The Kraken and the Lion

Chapter 01

A Song of Ice and Fire fanfic

by Technomad

Asha Greyjoy

Asha could smell King's Landing before she could see it.

She was standing on the foredeck of her ship, the Black Wind, as she approached King's Landing, and the smell, even out at sea, was quite distinctive. She wrinkled her nose. She was a daughter of the Iron Islands, and much preferred the clean smell of sea air. How do people live like this? she wondered. Of course, King's Landing was by far the largest city she had ever been to. Her trading voyages to the Westerosi mainland and to other lands had mostly taken her to small towns or coastal holdfasts and castles.

She glanced off to port, to see one of the royal dromonds that was escorting her ship, and nodded approvingly. For non-ironborn, the crew seemed to be competent and know what it was doing. She wondered if she'd be allowed to go out to sea on a dromond while she was in King's Landing; she had a lot of professional curiosity about how they differed from her own people's longships. She made a mental note to inquire about a friendly visit to the royal navy.

Asha had never expected to go to King's Landing, and had been shocked by her father's request that she travel there. "But, father," she'd asked, "can't someone else go?"

"No, Asha," her father had replied. "Theon's been corrupted by the Starks, and is too closely identified with them to be welcome there, and I don't have anybody else I trust as much. You're smart, loyal, and able to handle those people. Besides, Asha, I want you out of Pyke. This new situation since King Robert died is fluid, and there are people who'd try to hurt me by striking at you."

She had argued, and even begged, but in the end, she had obeyed. Partly because she was a loyal daughter, and, she had to admit, partly from curiosity to see this new place. She had never been at a royal court in her life, and it promised to be different from anything she had ever seen.

The Black Wind had been met off the coast by the royal dromonds, and been "offered" an escort into the harbor at King's Landing. Asha had smiled and accepted the offer, knowing that if she didn't, her ship might well suffer a "tragic accident." Her people did not have a good reputation, and many folk still shuddered at the sight of an Iron Islands longship going past.

Black Wind sailed on into the harbor, its flag with the gold kraken on its black background flying proudly, as Asha took careful note of everything she saw, making mental notes about the fortifications, the shipping, and anything else that might be of interest. Her first thought at the sight of King's Landing itself was What a place to plunder! Then she grinned…she was an ironborn, no matter how unusual her kinsfolk considered her to be! Who else would look at a new place and immediately start thinking about how many ships-ful of men it would take to load up all the wealth that could be taken there?

As her crew tied the Black Wind to her quay, an escort of soldiers with black stags embroidered on their yellow cloaks came down to meet her. At their head rode a man in full plate armor, with a pure white cloak. Asha bowed to him, knowing that this man represented the king she had been sent to meet.

"Lady Asha, I am Ser Arys Oakheart of the Kingsguard. It shall be my pleasure to escort you to the throne room, where you may pay your respects to his Grace, Joffrey Baratheon, First of His Name."

Asha considered him. He was a well-set-up man, but she knew that the Kingsguard required its men to be celibate, and apparently, chaste as well. She had read up on everything she could find on the Westerosi court under the guidance of her nuncle Rodrik the Reader, and she had a hard time believing that anybody would join such an order, or take such prohibitions seriously.

Her men obeyed her orders to form up behind her and follow her to the palace, and she began to wonder if it would be possible to find out about members of the Kingsguard who were derelict in their observance of their vows. If I can seduce one of them, she thought, that will give me a hold on him, that I can use to gain information! Of course, she knew that this would be a dangerous course of action to take…blackmail was by no means a safe pursuit, in the Iron Islands as elsewhere…but she had not become the captain of the Black Wind, nor established her dominance over an unruly, all-male crew of ironborn, without learning to deal with danger.

As they passed through the streets, Asha noted signs that all was not well. There did not seem to be much food available, and what there was, was very high-priced. The people appeared ill-fed, staring sullenly and apathetically as the procession passed them. Asha had expected hostility; the ironborn were not popular on the Westerosi mainland. However, instead of hostile glares, she and her crew were treated to indifference. Asha began to have dark suspicions about the state of affairs in Westeros' capital city.

I've heard that there was war, but if this city's not being kept well-stocked with food, things might be rougher than I had believed! Asha's sharp mind began considering how this might be turned to ironborn advantage. At the moment, the Iron Islands were more-or-less neutral, and she knew that other areas were still well-found for food. If the ironborn started sailing convoys of food into Kings Landing, they could easily make large profits, and make themselves some new friends. The world was bigger than many ironborn thought, and they were not a numerous people. Friends, and allies, could be very useful.

OOO

The ironborn were escorted into the Red Keep by white-clad knights of the Kingsguard and gold-cloaked men whom Asha had learned were members of the City Watch. Once the gates of the Keep had shut behind them, Asha noticed that some of her men were nervous.

"Keep calm, lads," she muttered. "We're an embassy, and they won't hurt us." Privately, she hoped she wouldn't be proven mistaken. She had never heard of an embassy being attacked, but she also knew that there was a first time for everything, and much of what she had seen disquieted her.

Asha entered the throne room and looked up, at the Iron Throne. As she had been told, it was clearly made entirely from swords, and looked singularly uncomfortable. A herald intoned: "The emissaries from Balon Greyjoy, Lord of the Iron Islands, wish audience with His Majesty, Joffrey Baratheon, First of His Name, King of the Seven Kingdoms!" Asha and all her men bowed respectfully, keeping to the etiquette they had been told was mandatory.

To Asha's sharp eye, Joffrey Baratheon did not look particularly regal as he lounged in the Iron Throne. He looked to her like a petulant, spoiled boy, bored and irritable, and she knew that combined with the power granted him by the crown on his golden…golden?…hair, his immaturity made him dangerous and unpredictable.

"We gladly greet you, and welcome you to Kings Landing. Our small council will deal with you, and We shall see you at the feast prepared for you tonight." The words were correct, but drawled out in tones of utter boredom and disdain. Asha bristled slightly, and felt her men stiffening as they sensed the King's contempt for them. They were ironborn, and tended to feel that they were an elite among men; knowing that they were seen as little better than barbarians angered them. Asha urgently signalled them to keep their tempers. It would not do to have her embassy ruined by some of her men losing control as they were presented to the King!

As they were escorted to the chambers prepared for them, Asha wondered what they would be feasting on. Kings Landing was not under siege directly, but she had seen more than enough signs to know that food was scarce; she did not think that the smallfolk would like it if they were going hungry while their King and his men stuffed themselves in the Red Keep.

Once they were in their chambers, Asha sat down and began mentally composing the first of her reports to her father and nuncle Rodrik. She also began putting together an inventory of the furnishings and decorations she had seen; she did not think there would be any real chance of an ironborn sacking of the Red Keep, but the thought was there.

A little while later, a deferential knock on the door announced the servants. Asha was used to thralls, but free servants were something different. She decided to treat them as she would her crew. "Good. Stow my seachest over here by the side of the bed, where I can reach it quickly." The servants did as they were told, giving her fearful glances, as though she were her nuncle Victarion and likely to kill them for existing. Asha inwardly sighed. She liked respect, but mindless fear was something else entirely.

She changed into her finest Iron Islands clothing for the feast, knowing that she would be on display before many of the notables of Westeros, and not wanting to shame her people by looking like a wharf rat. When the summons came, she followed a servant down to the Great Hall, smiling at the smells of good food that wafted along the corridors. Then she remembered the signs of the smallfolks' hunger she had seen outside, and shook herself slightly. Were these people fools?

OOO

Tyrion Lannister

Tyrion Lannister studied the Iron Islands delegation as they filed on into the Great Hall. He had been surprised to see that they were apparently led by a woman. From what he knew of the Iron Islands, they were even less fond of the idea of female rule over men than his own people. This woman may well be a useful person to know, he thought.

Joffrey had not deigned to show up for the feast himself. "His Majesty is indisposed," an official declared, solemnly enough that most people would have believed him. Tyrion hid a smile. He knew that his nephew was being kept well away from the Iron Islanders. Joffrey's loose mouth and impulsive bad behavior could lose the court any chance of enlisting the ironborn as allies of the regime.

A septon pronounced a blessing, and everybody fell to eating. The ironborn seemed to all have hearty appetites, which didn't surprise Tyrion any. He knew from his reading that the Iron Islands were poor…their motto of "We do not sow" was partly because they didn't have very much good farmland. As the Hand of the King, Tyrion was seated near the head of the table, across from the young woman who had headed the ironborn delegation. Queen Cersei was at the head of the table, eating in lonely majesty and speaking to nobody, which suited Tyrion right down to the ground.

He studied her, liking what he saw. She was slender but looked to be quite strong, with dark eyes and short dark hair. In some superficial ways, he was reminded of Shae, and tamped that thought down firmly. The idea that such a woman might find him attractive was impossible.

She was studying him closely as well, he noticed. She quirked a smile, which transformed her face from one that was merely handsome into one with true beauty. "So…you're Lord Tyrion, I take it. I've heard of you."

"And you're the leader of the Iron Islands delegation. You're not what I expected." Tyrion smiled back at her.

She smirked slightly. "Yes, I'm considered a bit freakish at home. Most ironborn women stay home and raise babies. I don't even have a husband."

Tyrion raised an eyebrow. "Really? Are all the men blind, then?" To his amusement, the ironborn woman blushed slightly.

"I think they don't know what to make of me. I captain my own ship, the Black Wind, which makes me an independent ruler in my own right. We have a saying that 'every captain is a king on his own ship,' and most men are not wild about marrying a woman that outranks them. The other captains are themselves all married men, and their wives see me as a threat to their positions. That doesn't leave many men for me, I'm afraid."

"I have a similar problem, my lady. On the one hand, I am a Lannister of Casterly Rock, which makes me very, very eligible. On the other hand, I am…" sweeping his hand down to indicate his short, stunted body…"the one they call 'the Imp.'" He gave her a bitter smile. "Most noblewomen would sooner marry Gregor Clegane than me."

"Gregor Clegane?" The ironborn woman was puzzled.

Tyrion raised an eyebrow. "They call him 'The Mountain that Rides.' He's seven or so feet tall, as broad as he is tall, and as mean as he is big. He serves my family, but he's a monster. He loves nothing more than inflicting pain and suffering. He's been married several times, and his wives all died…mysteriously." Tyrion grinned humorlessly. "I'd say there's nothing mysterious about their deaths. Nonetheless, many fathers will still offer him their daughters, simply because he's a Clegane and well up in my father's favor."

The ironborn woman quirked an eyebrow. "If I were his wife, there'd be a death, all right. But there'd be nothing mysterious about it!" She pulled the top of her jacket aside, revealing a small fighting axe and a dagger strapped to her side. "Ironborn, remember? Even normal ironborn wives take no abuse lightly. After all, they have to stay home and keep the house going when the men are gone trading or raiding."

Tyrion thought about finding Gregor Clegane stabbed in his bed, and decided he quite liked the idea. "I like the way you think, my lady." At the head of the table, Queen Cersei signalled that the meal was over, and everybody rose. "Since I am the Hand of the King, in my father's absence, we shall meet again, my lady."

As she turned to go back to her quarters, the ironborn woman gave Tyrion a long, considering look. "My name, my lord Hand, is Asha. You may address me by it, if you prefer. We ironborn are less fond of empty courtesies than you."

Tyrion bowed. "And, at least in private, you may call me Tyrion." For some time after the ironborn delegation had left, he looked after them, his mind churning.

END Chapter 01