video — (ง •̀_•́)ง

[cetos]

Who: Asha Greyjoy and errybody
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS Paisley 
When: Today

[ Asha Greyjoy stands in a nondescript hallway aboard the SS Paisley. She is not so foolish as to think there are not those who would harm her among the fleet and would rather not fight in close quarters, if it should come to that. For now, she leans against a wall, unflinchingly gazing into the communicator, more comfortable than curious. Once sharply cropped black hair falls unevenly about her face, too long and shaggy for her liking. Though she would prefer to wear the ship-issued clothing, she dons her weathered, salted leather for this broadcast. It is important that she bear the look of her people when lost in space.

However, she has added her security issued automatic weapon to her ensemble, holstered where her axe once glinted in the light. ]

[ Lazily — ] I believe I’ve arrived in perfect time to represent my people. [ a pause (for the drama tbh). Is this a reference to Tyrion’s broadcast or her brother’s misadventures? Both, perhaps. Evidently, she did some back-reading before announcing her presence. She tilts her chin up, as if challenging her viewers. ]

I am Asha of House Greyjoy, daughter of the kraken, Captain of the Black Wind, and [ an abrupt laugh. ] wife of an axe. [ not some rusted man of the Crow Eye’s choosing. ] Now, I mean no disrespect to my dear captain of the SS Paisley when I mention my titles. You have my service and loyalty, Captain Russo, if only out of respect for the institution of a ship. [ Which is mostly true, if partly for diplomacy’s sake. ] I introduce myself as such so that I may not lie by omission. Secrets in close quarters make for silly disputes, don’t you think? And I’ve nothing to hide. [ She shrugs. ]

On the Iron Islands, we must drown before we may live. And if death has already taken me once, why should I fear life among the stars? Or the animals twinkling with them, at that. [ Shout out to her fellow Westerosi. ] I will not bore you with history, but if you should like to learn more of the reavers of isles, who trade as well as take, who travel to the farthest reaches of our realm but return to the stony shores because none but us survive there, well — [ Her face splits into a grin. It is an easy thing to be happy when you’ve escaped cannibals and burnings and your only worries are green men. ] — I’ll oblige you, provided you regale me with tales of your own adventures. A fair trade. [ because she isn’t some godless pirate please and thank you!! ] I’ve need of drink and laughter after enduring snow and somber company.

[ Her smile thins into an unreadable expression, certainly more weary than before but too neutral to truly judge. ]

— And Theon, it is time we meet again.

Comments

[cetos]

[ For differing reasons, Asha assumes Theon — or what remains of him — will tread slowly. As long as he responds to his name. That is what he said, isn't? In that whisper. That the name mattered most.

She thinks him fragile, not unlike their lady mother. In a kinder world, he and Alannys might find solace in each other, wandering the Reader's grounds. The thought sends a pang of something through her. Guilt? Loneliness? The likelihood of being the last true kraken grows higher with every second. Part of her wishes he wasn't here, so she need not see him all white and hoary.

The sight of him as he was in Winterfell jolts her more than his petulance ever could. Still, a retort forms easily. ]

A captain is a captain because of a loyal crew. [ That is to say, Russo earned being captain somehow. ] And I've no interest in mutinying over metal and stardust.

[ this garbage can is not a ship and space is not the sea pass it on. ]

[reek]

[ Just as he looked in Winterfell, and just as cross. His only saving grace is that he's lost that horrible crown. ]

A captain must earn the respect of their crew. She has not earned your respect or mine.

[ Says the man who could barely control his own crew for the short amount of time he had them. Its a hypocritical statement, but he's too angry to realize. As much as Theon dislikes Alex, all that petulance is directed toward Asha more than anyone else. He should be pleased to see her, but he's still sore from her refusal to help him hold Winterfell, and doesn't know how to let go of these things. Bottling everything up for ten years is part of why his siege of Winterfell went so horribly wrong. ]

You asked for me. What do you presume we have to speak of?

[ Stop pouting for just a minute and be happy to see your sister while you still have your teeth, Theon. ]

[cetos]

[ Her own childishness prompts a number of indignant responses. He sent us pieces of you. I bent the knee for you. None that she says, despite the way her expression twists into a frown and hardens. No one else need hear her troubles or see her break.

She knows this boy far better than the old man from the woods. Was it truly him? Stannis would not lie, as brutal as he was. Did their red god... No, their red god was as real as the drowned, perhaps less true than those bloody trees, but all more words than anything else.

Theon's anger assures her that it's him. There are a thousand words on the tip of her tongue. I should have stayed with you. I should have dragged you to the sea. I should have come for you. I should have killed you myself to keep you from Stannis.

Her reply is tired, not sharp. She is wary of this version of her brother. ]

I have been trudging through the snow knowing that I might trip over your corpse. [ harsh......... ] Is it so surprising that I presume to see you, mine own little brother?

[reek]

[ Her harsh response only serves to deepen his frown, but he draws himself up further, taller, determined not to show how he much smaller he feels beneath the weight of her words.

He should realize that in her own hard way, Asha is only showing she cares, but Theon takes it like a true little brother. He thinks her to be mocking him and his inability to hold Winterfell, trying to humiliate him yet again. ]

You left me.

[ He accuses, hands curling into angry fists at his sides. ]

You abandoned me with no reinforcements, and now you wish to speak?

[ Always the saltiest squid, he struggles to keep his voice from rising. ]

What did you do when you left? Did you send word to father about my failures?

[cetos]

[ Abandoned him -- when she came to his aid despite his violation of her father's orders? Her eyes narrow as her own temper rises. She faces countless grievances for naming him brother and ally.

The mocking comes only as byproduct of her nature. This is care, for Asha, else she might denounce him now for all to see. Jaw set, she ignores his questions in attempt to adjust his course. ]

Must you give our enemies a show? Scold me in the flesh, if you insist, for not dragging you back to the sea.

[ for not damning myself and my men for the sake of your pride goes unsaid, so as not to lose him in his tantrum. She won't chase him. Not then. Not now. ]

[reek]

[ It's true that his mouth and his temper have done nothing to earn him the favor of the fleet. His pride is too easily hurt by even the gentlest prodding, regularly provoking him to quick anger and poorly chosen words. Being outnumbered by Starks doesn't help either. Eddard Stark's children are well loved by the rest of the fleet. Whatever they may say about their father's ward is more trusted than any attempts Theon makes to defend himself. Sorry you have to deal with the fallout, Asha. ]

You should have.

[ He snaps, anger flaring as he thinks of how foolish he's been. His intentions were not cruel, but how could he have ever hoped to secure Winterfell? He should have been with Robb. He should have died alongside Robb. ]

You should have sent me home. [ He laughs bitterly, gnashing his teeth together in a horrible, force grin. ] Winterfell could have been yours. How proud father would have been...But you've no need to prove yourself to him. You've had your entire life.

[cetos]

I don't want Winterfell. [ the words ring childish even as she says them firmly, tinged by her fear of the trees and days as a captive. I want the shore and sea and the warmth of Harlaw. And the seastone chair, she reminds herself, having only recently allowed herself to want it again. Justice for Balon, and Theon for Alannys. ]

I could never have held Winterfell. Father could never have held Winterfell. [ voice rising — ] All the bloody Greyjoys in the sea could never hold Winterfell. The trees — [ hate us. Abruptly, she forces herself to stop, because she knows it will sound as mad as she felt in the woods. ] None but the North can hold somewhere so far inland, so chilled by winter. [ It was folly from the start. Even Deepwood Motte was too far. She should never have strayed from the water. ]

We lost Winterfell and Balon both, brother. [ and that is not how she wished to deliver her news, but she hopes it sparks an interest in what more she has to say. This time she does not demand; she asks. ] I want to see you, Theon.

[reek]

[ In his heart, Theon knows she's right. He could have never held Winterfell, not on his own and not with Asha's help. They are krakens. They were never meant to be so far from the sea. In the beginning, he thought he could be different. The Northmen knew him and had no true reason to mistrust him. He did not intend to rid Robb of everything, but playing the benevolent lord did not earn him their love. They hated him, they named him turncloak and would have sooner seen him dead than Lord of Winterfell.

Theon knows he lost Winterfell. He knows Bolton men put it to the torch, but no one has been able to tell him much else. Until now. He's been silent, steaming in anger and regret while Asha forces him to face the harsh truth of the matter. When she mentions Balon, a fraction of that anger lifts, replaced by surprise and a hint of sadness. RIP dad you were a dick but you were still dad. ]

When...? How?

[ He almost regrets asking. He doesn't want to face her or more of her harsh truths. ]

[cetos]

[ It only takes her a moment to choose her course. There are merits to saying it now, so that all may know how traitorous Euron Crow's Eye is beneath his kraken armour, and Theon, especially, may immediately know the truth.

But seeing as he ignored her own demands and requests — ]

I'll meet you outside the cargo hold.

[ DISCONNECT. ]

HERE HE COME

[reek]

[ Of course, he hesitates. His anger has taken a backseat to the same sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that lingered there in Winterfell, and then once more when Robb revealed the details of his death.

A lie, he tells himself, not wanting to believe that he's just lost another piece of himself. A lie to draw you out of hiding. She's lied to you before.

Still, something draws him to the cargo hold, just as Asha demanded. She would have found him later anyway. This way, he's spared the embarrassment of her knocking down the door of his cabin. ]

I'm here.

[ It's a pretty pitiful announcement. Of course he's there. ]

Do you intend to answer my questions, or have I come for no reason?

missed u bro

[cetos]

[ When he finally arrives, she leans against the wall just as she did in the feed, having not taken a step on his behalf. This time, she's the one who hesitates, taking the time to pocket her communicator and look him over.

Suddenly, she feels the same stirrings of relief and grief as she does every time she sets foot on Harlaw. I'm afraid again. Afraid that the closer she looks, the more ghostly he'll become. Still, she manages to walk over to him. ]

We'll trade questions and answers. [ said much like the terms of engagement or battle. Without pausing, she curtly delivers the grave news. ] Our nuncle Euron Crow's Eye returned from exile and murdered our father.

[ As she closes in, one might think she'll either hit Theon or hug him. And she does consider those options thoroughly, to be sure, but in the end, she engages in something entirely more odd. With one hand, she grabs his chin, tilting his face this way and that for as long as he'll allow, checking for the teeth he lacked and scars he gained. If he rebuffs her, she'll yank at his arm and attempt to judge the damage there, too. Sharply — ] Are you hurt? Did these people heal you?

[ the fleet, she means. A broken ankle is simple enough, but Theon was broken in every way, when she saw him last. ]

miss u 2 sis

[reek]

[ As a child, Theon had feared his uncle and the black eye he concealed beneath that patch. So much malice shone in that eye, it isn't all that difficult to envision Euron as a kinslayer. But it's a strange thing to think about. Balon was nearly a stranger to his son, but the news makes Theon feel strangely empty, as if some part of him has been taken away.

Could no one prevent this?

He's still trying to work up a response when Asha closes in on him. He flinches at her touch, puzzled by her behavior. In more ways than one, she is truly the kraken's daughter. Like Balon, Asha has little warmth or affection to share, and the almost motherly response she has upon seeing him is strange and disconcerting. Theon almost has to wonder if it's truly her.

You've been fooled before, he reminds himself, but his uncertaintly doesn't last long. The much more familiar sharpness in her voice when he attempts to pull away is enough to ease some of his concerns, but not nearly all of them. ]

There were no wounds to heal.

[ He clenches his (still totally intact) teeth, struggling with all the new information that has been piled onto his shoulders. But they are trading questions, and it's Theon's turn. ]

Father is dead. As are Robb Stark, Tywin Lannister and Joffrey Baratheon. Jon Snow is Lord Commander and Margaery Tyrell is Queen. However it may be, you know more than I do. You all know more than I do.

[ But do you really want to know more?

The prospects frighten him, but he needs to know what his future holds. ]

When the Boltons put Winterfell to the torch, what became of me?

[cetos]

[ Suddenly, she realizes she wants to tell him everything. She wants to explain the kingsmoot and the Crow's Eye and the disappearances of their other uncles. She wants to assure him that Alannys waits for him even now before she must explain his or their mother's states. She needs to talk of Deepwood Motte and the choir of red followers always singing of burnings. She even wishes to mention the She-Bear and the Massey boy.

She doesn't want to know this much.

Even Theon should know the way she hesitates before her words ring softer and lower bodes far worse for him than any omen. ]

I thought you had died, Theon. The ravens said all the ironmen in Winterfell died that day. [ He has to know that. That's what the ironmen would have done — killed them all. How could they have known the Boltons were different? A look at their sigil might have served. ] We were fools to think so simply. All in the North know that the Boltons' sigil is a cruel promise now. [ as an afterthought: ] Somehow, they found Arya Stark as well and made her the bastard's bride.

[ She stops inspecting him, hands resting on his shoulders in a move that's almost comforting. In truth, it's more bracing, as she fears he might fall if she says too much, too quickly. ]

I became a captive, too, but of Stannis, and some of his men or Jon's men or northmen [ that part doesn't matter — ] found me in his camp on their way to see the stag king. They had you. [ "I have a gift for you," the Braavosi said. But if this is a gift, I do not want it. ] You looked like you'd been dead for weeks. Your skin — [ Her grip on his shoulders tightens unconsciously, and she can't stop her mouth twisting in revulsion at the thought of him in the snow. ] — you were beaten and broken and flayed. [ and even that explanation is soft, she realizes, withholding the snatches of horror he conveyed. ] You tried to tell me everything, but we only had moments. [ and you were half-mad. ] But you saved her, the Stark girl. You said you took her and jumped from the walls of Winterfell.

[ There's a desperation foreign to her in her black eyes, frightened that he'll revert to that state at any moment. If he remembers his name and knows that he helped the girl, maybe that will ease the rest.

Asha is feared on land and sea, yet she feels small beside her little brother now. ]

[reek]

[ It's a lot to take in all at once. His father dead, his sister a captive, and himself...?

He never expected Asha to gentle him or soften the the blow, but even in a softer tone, the picture she paints for him is enough to make his stomach turn. He can feel it twisting into worried knots as she speaks, all his remaining hope slipping away with each word.

He isn't entirely daft; it was easy enough to assume he would be taken captive by the Boltons, perhaps used as a price to draw the ironborn into an alliance. Asha may have been raised as Balon's heir, but Theon's life would still hold some value in a political move such as that. He was right about the captivity, then, but but the torture...the flaying...

Death would be a kinder fate. ]

The captives we took at Winterfell...he wanted to flay them. Ramsay Snow.

[ He speaks softly, as if to himself rather than to her.

Ramsay Snow, not Reek.

He should have known. He should have seen through the bastard's act the moment he suggested stripping the captives of their skins. His eyebrows knit together and he shakes his head, trying to bring himself to his senses. The color has drained from his face and if not for Asha's grip on his shoulders, he would likely be on the ground by now. Even still, he has to grip his sister's arms to feel as if he's actually steadying himself ]

Stark girl...?

[ He asks in that same soft tone, but he does meet Asha's gaze this time. Still Theon, except in a state of shock. ]

Which Stark girl? Lord Eddard...he has two daughters. Both travelled to King's Landing along with him.

[ Far from the mess Theon made of their home. ]

[cetos]

[ Both his footing and wording slip, and all she sees is a reversion to his prior sorrowful state. I don't want to be the last. Even though Theon was a fool to claim Winterfell and a fool to kill those boys and a fool to trust that bastard... he is her brother still, so she holds tight and steady, even in these uncertain waters. Her grip is far from soft, but the fact that she holds him at all is evidence of her care. She won't reassure him that his mistakes were harmless or easily made because that isn't true.

And he must be strong to help her now. Sweet lies are poison to the ironborn. That isn't to say she won't blunt the truths, however, as she always has with their mother... ]

[ soft and slow — ] The youngest, Theon. [ a beat. ] Arya. The Lannisters made Roose Bolton Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. The girl must have been part of their deal.

[ She now knows how Northerners are, how the She-Bear's loyalty to her wolf lords has never wavered. A Stark was necessary to ensure victory — she sees that now. ]