Asha I

"Nuncle," Asha called, walking up to the steel-clad warrior and his group of captains. The uncle and niece were meeting on the docks at Torrhen's Square. The rest of Asha's men were still at Deepwood Motte under the command of her other uncle, Rodrik Harlaw. Victarion had sent her a raven telling her to meet him at the other northern castle under Ironborn command.

"Asha," Victarion said, nodding to the gangly girl. "You made good time."

"The Drowned God was helpful," Asha said. "Why did you call me here?"

"Theon's been captured," Victarion said bluntly. "The fool took Winterfell and then lost it."

Asha's eyes widened. "Is he dead?"

"No," Victarion said, shaking his head. "He's been captured by the Bolton's. According to the Damphair, Cleftjaw was with the boy too."

"Were they captured?"

"They were burned," Victarion answered. "Winterfell has been burnt to a crisp. My men found their bodies in the Godswood."

Asha cursed her brother and his foolishness. She knew that he felt slighted by their father, but she didn't think he'd go as far as to take Winterfell. The ironborn don't do well away from the water. Even Theon should have known that.

"Tell me what happened," Asha said finally. "Everything."

"The boy, Cleftjaw, and the Damphair raided Bear Island before they hit a village on the Stoney Shore," Victarion explained, his face emotionless and cold. "Theon and the Cleftjaw went after Winterfell and took the damn thing, capturing Lady Stark and her family. The Bolton's and other northern houses besieged the castle. My men found signs of an encampment around the castle. I then received a rider from the man who captured Theon and Lady Stark."

Victarion turned around and was handed a small wooden box, which he then gave to Asha.

"I was then sent that with the threat that more pieces would come if the ironborn remained in the North."

Asha opened the box and felt bile ride up in her throat. It was a pinky finger that had a gold ring on it. On the ring was a crude carving of a squid.

"So the Bolton's have my brother and Lady Stark," Asha said finally. "The Cleftjaw and his men were burned alive." She sighed. "We need to rescue my brother."

"No," Victarion said firmly. "We are leaving the North."

Asha's head snapped up. "What?"

"There is more going on than you know, girl," Victarion grumbled. "The Bolton's have turned their cloaks. The northern army is returning home. Eagle's Roost has been besieged and Bowden Hawker has returned to his nest. More men are returning to the North than we need, and they will strike at us as well as the Boltons."

"We can not leave my brother behind!" Asha cried.

"He made his choice, and we will not be beholden to the boy," Victarion growled. "The Iron Fleet will leave the North and head south to the Reach. Balon has sent word that the Redwyne Fleet is attacking the Westerlands."

Asha shook her head angrily. "I will stay." She said stubbornly. "I will not leave my brother to be flayed."

Victarion crossed his arms. "Theon is on the other side of the fucking North. You will obey me, girl. I am Lord Captain."

The two family members glared at each other, neither giving in to each other. Asha rested her hands on the axes at her side. "I lost Theon once. I will not lose him again. Take the rest of my men, but leave me two crews."

Victarion scowled but nodded. "Fine. I will leave you with the First Wind and the Sea Song. You have two months to save Theon. If you don't or can't, I expect you in the Reach."

Asha bowed slightly. "Yes, Nuncle."

"Get back to Deepwood," Victarion ordered, glancing north. "There's no telling how long the Seahawk will remain docked."

"What happened in the North?" Asha asked curiously.

"The Boltons and others turned their cloaks on the Starks." One of Victarion's captains explained. "Ryswells and Dustins among them."

"The northern host is close to Moat Cailin." Another added.

Asha raised an eyebrow. "How do you know all this?"

"Not all my ships have been raiding." Victarion rumbled. "They have been my eyes and ears along the western coast of the North. I was not going to be surprised by Hawker nor anyone else."

"Is Stark with them?" Asha asked.

Victarion shook his head. "That is not known. But we do not have the men to repel the northern army, not with where we are now. We will return to the Iron Islands, replenish what we need, leave our booty, and head south."

"Does my father know of this?" Asha asked.

"He will understand," Victarion answered. "The Damphair has already set his sails for Pyke."

Asha was surprised but did not pursue the subject. Her uncle was a mighty warrior and as a good a commander on the seas as any. But he was not a thinker, or at least not known as one. He followed Asha's father and the Damphair like a pet bear, the muscle to their brains. It seems that he was determined to not make the same mistakes that had happened in the failed rebellion years ago.

"I will return to Deepwood and send my men back to Pyke," Asha promised. "I wish you good fortune in the Reach."

"I advise you again, girl, do not waste your time with Theon. He chose to go away from the Drowned God's strength." Victarion said.

Asha shook her head. "I will not lose him again. Not while he's still alive."

The big man shrugged. "Fine."

And with that, Victarion turned and left, his captains following him back to the castle. Asha sighed and returned to her own ship, taking her place by the tiller as her crew disembarked and started their journey back down the river and back to Deepwood Motte.

Line Break

"I agree with Victarion, Asha." Rodrik Harlaw said, pouring ale for himself and his niece. "You know what the Boltons do to their prisoners."

"I thought flaying was outlawed in the North," Asha argued.

"Roose Bolton turned his back on the Starks. He can do as he pleases." The man known as the 'Reader' countered. "You told me yourself that the sick fuckers sent Victarion a finger. What would you have us do? Trek across the frozen tundra, breaking into a castle, and then go back across the fucking North with a half-dead body?"

Asha couldn't believe that she was hearing. She and her mother's brother had always had a good relationship. He was the most reasonable of her uncles and she normally went to him when she needed sound advice. The only downside to the man was that he was too damned cautious.

"He's my brother! I can not lose him again!" Asha cried, throwing her tankard against the wall. "I have to try!"

"You can't attack the castle." Rodrik scoffed. "We have less than five hundred men. The rest of our force has sailed for Pyke."

"All I need are a dozen," Asha growled.

Rodrik crossed his arms, looking at his niece. "There are twenty horses in the stable. You can take twenty men." The older man drained his ale and slammed the tankard back on the table. "Do not kill yourself trying to save your brother."

Asha went to speak, but Rodrik held up a hand to stop her.

"You are your father's heir." He said, his voice slow and deliberate. "If you die, then Victarion or the Damphair will become ruler of the Iron Islands. That can not happen. You are smarter than both. You need to live. Do you understand me?"

Asha, surprised by her uncle's words, nodded slowly. She knew her father had groomed her to be his heir. She just never thought about what might happen if she died.

"I understand."

Rodrik nodded. "Good. Now get your men and get what supplies you need. You have a long ride ahead of you. And you best keep a fucking good eye out."

"There's no one between here and the Dreadfort." Asha pointed out.

"There's the Mountain Clans. I believe they are very loyal to the Starks. Once you reach Bolton lands, it will be crawling with the bastards. The man's forces are there and Eagle's Roost."

Asha nodded, seeing the sense in her uncle's words. "Thank you, Uncle."

"Come back alive, Asha." The Reader responded. "For the Iron Island's sake."