I'm Theon Greyjoy

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***

After the wedding, the island lords returned to their fiefdoms, where they set about gathering their troops and ships. A few weeks later the first ships docked at Lordport, carrying ironborn armed to the teeth. Greedy for glory and other people's wealth.

All the neighbourhoods around Pike were filled with tents, people from other islands, and ships obscured the horizon. Watching it from his balcony, Theon could only marvel at how such a resource-poor archipelago had so much power. Apparently, centuries and millennia of pillaging the rich West Bank of Westeros had taken their toll. Most flaunted iron armour and good weapons.

Returning back to his private chambers, Theon found his newfound wife in a nice reclining position on the bed.

The warm blanket was pulled back to reveal her uncovered intimate parts. Sly brown eyes looked up at Greyjoy.

- Do you prefer the cold wind on the balcony to my bed, Theon? - She murmured.

They made love every night: Theon to conceive an heir, Gwyn to discover a world of pleasure. Greyjoy was the reason for it, for he was experienced in bed and had already taught her a great deal.

- Of course not,' he snorted, stepping closer. His hand stroked the smooth skin on the bare part of her thigh.

-Theon, come here,' she pulled quietly and excitedly, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards her. He didn't resist.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''"'

The wind blowing in from the north chilled his face and made him squirm even under the protection of his warm, fur jacket. Theon, with a crown on his head, perched on his horse, watched from the stone shore as the shipwrights and their assistants inspected a large, single-masted ship with a huge iron battering ram on its bow, the end of which boasted a hammer-like spiked limb.

The ship had already been tested afloat, and now Sigrin and his assistants were inspecting the ship for any possible breaches or undetected problems. It was doubtful that any would be found, but caution could never hurt.

- What are you going to call it? - Vyctarion, also on horseback, asked. There are a couple of Greyjoy Guards behind them, and Cicero can be seen somewhere up ahead.

- I don't know yet,' Theon said thoughtfully. He could think of all sorts of names, but he didn't like any of them yet.

- There is something else we need to discuss,' he continued, turning the subject and looking towards Victarion, 'As we discussed, once we reach the first shores of the Expanse, the Iron Fleet will take a different route.

Uncle nodded without saying anything. He only looked sullenly at Theon, waiting for him to continue.

- You will take Cicero with you.

-Why? - The Iron Fleet captain wrinkled his nose as if he'd swallowed a peeled lemon.

- He'll be transmitting messages.

In time with his words, a parrot swooped down from below, landing its talons on the thick, leather shoulder pad. The weight of the huge carcass shook Greyjoy a little, but he regained his balance.

- The F-Feldjäger Service of the Iron Islands is ready to do its duty,' Cicero bellowed, making his master cringe at the volume.

- Your bird is saying strange things,' Victarion looked at Theon suspiciously. Was there some kind of insight in his eyes or confirmation of his thoughts?

- It is a bird, Uncle. Do we know what goes on in the minds of birds?

-I guess,' Victarion muttered.

If all went according to plan, the Spacers would be in for an unpleasant surprise. If only he had wildfire and men who could use it... oh, dreams, dreams.

- 'Iron Hammer,' Greyjoy said suddenly after a few seconds of silence, 'I'll call him that.

- That's your right. But it's not a good name. You're like your father in that - giving the wrong names.

The reminder of his father made Theon feel a muffled irritation.

-Let's not talk about Baelon,' his nephew looked at his uncle gravely.

- Your right,' Victarion repeated. Without a word, they watched as the sailors pushed the ship away from the shore with incredible effort and steered it back to Lordport. Theon had already fulfilled tradition by climbing into the ship first, and had allowed Aaron to consecrate the ship back in the port city, and now, having made his way here, he decided to return to the castle. His XO, Three-Finger, would manage to dock the Iron Hammer back at the anchorage in Lordport.

He had work to do at the castle: he needed to sort out the provisions, talk to a couple of lords, brief Harlow, and receive some of the priests of the Drowned God who had decided to honour Pike with their presence.

Not to mention sending a letter to Robb. Stark must be warned. Things in the Riverlands look good so far, but that's for now. The Tyrells and Lannisters must have their troops assembled and ready to move.

Turning his horse round, Theon led him towards the black castle on the rocky shore. His uncle, uncomfortable on the four-legged beast, followed him. The calm and even gloomy Victarion never uttered a word during the journey. Greyjoy was even grateful to his uncle for this silence during the short journey.

Pike waits.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''"'

- What people,' Theon smirked as he hugged Dagmer, 'Is something wrong, Scabbard?

They stood on the stone slab of Lordport. Hundreds and thousands of ironborn were climbing onto ships, carrying barrels of food, arrows, weapons, and more.

Theon was followed by a couple dozen guardsmen, Erich and a couple of ordinary sailors with Three-Finger. He was about to board the Iron Hammer, but the unexpected arrival of the old pirate prevented it.

- I wanted to see my apprentice,' Dagmer smiled, which was an eerie sight. But the king was used to it in so many years, -There is a conversation, my king, that does not tolerate unnecessary witnesses.

'Wow, that's some wording. I didn't expect you to say that, Scabbard.'

Theon nodded to his retinue, and Erich, Three-Finger and the sailors began to climb onto the Iron Hammer on the bridge. The guardsmen stepped back only slightly.

- Speak,' Theon said imperiously.

- There is a question that gnaws at me,' Dagmer began, 'you have always been strange, my king. I noticed it when you were a boy.

Such words might have made a man with a crown on his head angry, but to Theon it only evoked interest and wariness in one bottle. Did Dagmer really know something about... him?

- Your pet and yourself are clearly connected by something more,' Bristle's gaze grew heavy. Theon himself tried to look calm, but the slightly narrowed eyes said otherwise.

- Tell me straight, Scabbard,' Greyjoy snorted.

-How long have you been a warg?

- As soon as Cicero became my pet,' Theon didn't lie, 'What's next, Dagmer? You already knew the answer to your question.

- I have seen many sorcerers in my long life, though I have never seen a warg among them,' Dagmer shook his head, his brooding countenance making Theon even more wary, 'and I have only one request, Your Majesty. It has to do with your ability to control animals.

- You are quite eloquent today, Scabbard. I've never noticed that about you before....

- I've had to deal with the Lords of Westeros on more than one occasion. I was lucky enough to fool one of them. He was a Lannister.

-Lord Tywin? - The king was surprised beyond measure.

- His name was Titus.

-Never mind. Go on,' the king said, and then put his hand around the tip of the sword in the scabbard where Crimson Rain rested.

- I have many bastards, but only a few are important to me because they were born of the woman I love. And I am sure one of them is of the same breed as you, my king.

- That's how it is. Are you sure of that? - Theon asked.

- He has a crow with him all the time, a crow he picked up when he was a raven. Sometimes it behaves strangely, not in the bird's way... and sometimes my son does not look like a human and behaves too strangely. I've noticed the same with you, my king.

- Do you want me to raise him?

Scabbard nodded silently.

Theon himself was not averse to taking a boy of such ability as a page. The opportunity to raise a loyal man with warg powers is worth a lot. And the weapon master's motives are pretty clear.

-We'll talk about this later, Scabbard. I will take your son as a squire, but after we finish our campaign in the Expanse.

- May it be your will, Sea King,' the old pirate bowed gratefully, 'I am your debtor.

- You seem strange today, Dagmer.

-A bad feeling, my King.

They parted as soon as they had finished talking. He climbed into his new ship, the Iron Hammer, and ordered it to start moving. Horns sang and the assembled huge fleet began its movement. A strong wind blew in their faces and made the banners on the masts flutter.

They would round the Bright Isle, reach the shores of Spaceland, and there Victarion's Iron Fleet of a hundred ships would leave them, moving away. Theon's remaining fleet will begin to plunder the lands of High Oak before reaching the Shield Islands. Let the news spread throughout Westeros, and most importantly to the capital, where many of the lords of the High Oak are. Worry for their homelands must outweigh the desire for glory and future victories on the Trident.

- And God help us, right Cicero?

- And may C-ctulhu devour our enemies! - the brazen parrot flapped his wings as he perched on the barrels. The parrot gave a bird-like, disgusted chuckle.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''"'

The Small Council Chamber was still richly furnished, despite the siege and even the battle between Stannis's loyal Lancers and the warriors of the Alliance of the West and the Expanse. The defenders of the castle fought to the death, knowing that no one would spare them. It took the servants several days to restore the room to its former glory.

Kiwan sat at the head of a large round table. The Regent of the OWLs looked at everyone who remained in King's Landing and held a position on the Small Council.

In place of Mace Tyrell sat Olenna Tyrell, who had arrived in the capital with her granddaughter, Margaery. The Hand himself had travelled with a huge army to the Riverlands, entrusting his mother with important affairs of state. Lannister was not surprised.

Along with the Lord of Highgarden went many lords of the Common and the West, including Tarly. It added peace of mind about the military campaign in the Riverlands.

Twenty thousand infantry, eleven thousand mounted men, hundreds of wagons full of provisions, thousands of attendant servants, not to mention the prostitutes, the retinues of all the lesser lords on the campaign. This armada had left days ago, as soon as the wedding of Tommen and Margaery Tyrell, now Baratheon, had taken place.

Roland Crakehall, whom Kiwan had forcibly kept in King's Landing. He needs a master of the laws here, not in the Riverlands. Especially when the Hand has joyfully left them, eager to gain undying glory by defeating the Grim Wolf.

In Paxter Redwyn's place was Ser Desmond Redwyn, his cousin. Ser Desmond wasn't a lord, but he knew as much about ships as anyone of his kind. And most importantly, he wasn't as clever as his brother.

However, another old Redwyne on the council levelled this advantage - she was not called the Queen of OWLs for nothing, and a few long and detailed conversations with her had exhausted Kivan more than a continuous day's journey.

The Master of Ships himself had been absent from the capital for a month - without waiting for the wedding, he had travelled with his fleet first to Dragonstone and, leaving a number of galleys to blockade it, had sailed on, rounding Westeros. The Ironborn were suspiciously quiet, and there was no news from the Isles themselves.

Redwyn left with great pomp, confident that he could easily drive the pirates back to the Isles. Redwyn's Castle, which had already acquired a sweet courtier like a vermin, was abuzz with excitement. Lord Arbor was vaunted as the victor of the famous sea battle off the Bright Isle and the only hope for calm on the western seas.

Lannister agreed with the latter, but the first statement... Stannis had won with the Royal Navy at his command. But not Paxter Redwyne, who gladly accepted all this praise. To take credit for other people's victories is exactly the love of the Redwins, not the Tyrells. Lord Mace's mother is of the grape family....

'Whatever the consequences... But Redwyn is a skilful naval commander after all, and has a double advantage over the pirates.'

Furthest away sat Lord Giles Rosby, appointed Master over the Whisperers. The old lord was not to be expected to have skills like Varys, but neither did Kivan need them. Rosby was favoured by both High Houses, the Tyrells and the Lannisters. A handy figure to keep the already powerful Roses from being strengthened.

A perpetual cold, racked with coughs and runny noses, Lord Giles was not as simple as he appeared. And he knew a thing or two about espionage - Rosby had already organised a network of spies, and information was flowing into the hands of the Small Council. Not that Keevan didn't have his own kind of whisperers and spies, but a new source would definitely be useful.

Not quite dangerous and not quite useless, the Master of the Whisperers suited Kivan as well as the Tyrells. How long would he last in his post? Lannister wanted as long as possible.

The temporary replacement for Petyr Baelish, Master of the Coin, Haris Swift, his wife's father, sat next to Lord Giles, who tried unsuccessfully to hide his squeamishness for the perpetually coughing Master of the Whisperers.

Dead Pycelle had been replaced by Maester Gormon, assuming the position of Grand Maester. Gormon is of Tyrell lineage, but Kivan didn't have much choice. Staromestes is the fiefdom of the Hightowers, and the Hightowers are loyal vassals of the Lords of Highgarden....

He had weakened the power of the Roses in the capital as much as he could, sometimes making concessions and sometimes stubbornly standing up to them. But the fact remains, the Lannisters are slowly becoming junior in this Alliance, not equal. And for now, the Lannister had no power to change that. Not in such troubled times.

The warm Myrian rug Kivan sat on was giving the old lion's feet some rest. Even with his boots on, Kivan could feel its softness, and it gave him peace of mind.

His gaze shifted now and then from the faces of those present to the paintings hung on the walls of the chamber by various masters of Essos - picturesque descriptions of nature, battles, the capital city, and many other topics.

A legacy of the old Targaryen kings that even King Robert was reluctant to throw into the dustbin of history. Maybe because he never attended the Small Council much.

Sometimes Lannister had too many questions for the late Arryn.

King Tommen was absent, as was the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. The former was unable to attend due to his studies and busyness, while the latter guarded him diligently. Loras Tyrell had recovered from his wound, and was eager to accept the White Cloak. And his relatives were very much in favour of making him Lord Commander.....

The Silent Lion, as he had been dubbed in the capital, looked round at all the members of the Small Council, or their substitutes, and announced:

-We should begin,' Lannister said briefly, 'and I give the floor to Lord Giles. Lord Rosby, any news from the Stormlands?

-The lords loyal to the crown have laid siege to Storm's End, both land and sea,' Lord Rosby said, coughing steadily and hiding half his face behind his handkerchief.

'The Bucklers, the Swanns, the Grandisons, the Cafferens, the Erolls, the Selmys, the Wyalds, and many, many others...'

Silent were some of the Maroc lords, silent was Lord Tarth, who had not forgiven the Knight of Flowers who had killed his daughter.

But the existing forces of the Stormlands lords would soon be joined by a five thousand man corps of Westerners. Kivan had sent them on purpose, believing that the fall of Storm's End was already a done deal. The lions would sit under the Limit, keeping a certain part of their forces safe.

The fleet was scraped together by the Storm Lords themselves - a couple of dozen galleys would be enough to close the port of Storm's End from supplies from across the sea.

- Good,' Roland Crakehall smiled, 'now the Baratheon fief is under siege again. Isn't it time the castle defenders got used to the bow again? - he joked.

- What of Lord Tarth and those who have not answered our call,' Kiwan asked the Master of the Whisperers, ignoring Crakehall's words.

- Silence, my lord, is all I can tell you. Nothing is unknown to me.

Despite these words, Lord Casterly Rock nodded gratefully.

I would like to see Storm's End fall as quickly as possible, but that is only a dream. A man loyal to the late Stannis sits in the Praedale, commanding the garrison. Perhaps when the men feel the grip of hunger they will open the gates, but we must wait.

In the Prairie was Robert's recognised bastard, for whom Kiwan had definite plans.

- What about the Vale? Any word from there? Had the Lords already assembled their troops?

To this question Kivan already knew the answer, but decided to notify the others through Rosby... who had no spies.

- The armies of the Vale have already left the Bloody Gate, my lord. No more than ten thousand warriors, Lord Lannister.

'Not all agreed to cross blades with past allies,' thought Kiwan. It wasn't good for the Guardian of the West, but ten thousand was already a good result.

Baelish would get Harrenhal, but the Riverlands would go to someone else... though Lannister had convinced Littlefinger otherwise.

Of course, the Dark Wolf already knows that, Keevan thought, but the others shouldn't be told yet. If the Northmen and Rivermen defeat the Vale, it will be a great gift to the Lion House - Robb Stark will be weakened, and it will weaken the Vale, which may lock itself in its mountains... Littlefinger Kiwan didn't trust.

And the North's weakened army will be defeated by the Vale. Tarly intends to march slowly, laying siege to every fortress and city in his path.

- Are the rumours that Petyr Baelish has married Lysa Tully and declared himself Lord Protector of the Vale true? - Ser Desmond suddenly asked.

-Faithful, sire, kha-' Rosby coughed.

- Loving hearts have found each other at last, have they not, Lord Regent? - The Queen of Spikes cooed, folding her wrinkled hands into a lock.

-Yes, my lady,' Lannister bowed his head in agreement, 'but we have bigger problems.

- Ironborn,' Paxter Redwyne's cousin muttered.

- That's right... the bloody pirates have gone quiet,' the Grand Maester interjected, 'that's never a good thing, and Prostor knows it well.

- After the carnage they've caused on their islands? - Roland Crakehall snorted, 'Staying quiet is the smartest thing they've done in the last... three hundred years.

- The Ironborn are just rebuilding their fleet and preparing,' Desmond Redwyn said confidently, 'you'll see, they're about to strike - the Shield Islands are their target.

Paxter Redwyn outlined his plan to lure the ironmen to the Shield Islands. They think no one is waiting for them, but in truth, Westeros has long been used to raids and knows that the Iron Men can attack at any moment. So, always on guard... especially the people of the Shield Isles and Arbor.

'But they still attacked the West suddenly,' thought Keevan bitterly, 'Shield Island, Cayce, Lannisport... they fell too quickly, and Casterly Cliff, for the first time in centuries, experienced a siege

- We must hope that Lord Redwyn will bring us victory in the Sunset Sea,' Giles Rosby murmured, 'I'm afraid I can't tell you anything about what's happening there. All the merchants fled there, or were locked up as soon as Lord Baelon invaded the West. And rumours of a massacre at Old Vic came from the Riverlands...

- Let us leave these sea raiders to more important matters,' Olenna Tyrell intervened, 'strange septons have begun to come from the Trident, ranting about the cursed alliance between House Tyrell and House Lannister... and other unpleasant rumours about King Tommen.

The council's discussions took a different tack - the problems of the capital, rumours from around the world, and the squabbles of the king's bannermen, who couldn't care less about war.

The Small Council had been going on for several hours, and during that time the grey-haired Kivan had a headache. Everyone left the chambers, only the Regent remained, thinking about his next steps.

The Dornish were strangely quiet, and the demand for the return of Princess Myrcella was ignored... The Lannister dreaded to imagine what the Martells might do to the little girl. What was Tyrion thinking?

The rumours about Daenerys were worrying the High Lord of the West more and more. Something had to be done, but what was it? Send assassins? How many assassins had Robert Baratheon sent? None had ever reached the fugitive Targaryens. Someone was covering for members of the dragon dynasty, and a guess to that effect was already in Keevan's mind.

Defeating the Grim Wolf should be the final point in this civil war. The remaining enemies would no longer be able to do anything - not the Ironborn, not Dragonstone, not the Dornish with some of the Storm Lords.

Is Tywin's dream closer than ever?