A Fish Out of Water

Vickon 

"That's White Harbor? It's tiny."

"White Harbor is one of the two biggest cities in the North, bigger than any of your puny islands."

He feigned offense, looking at Arya who looked at him pointedly, with a wide smirk.

Deep down, inside of his very gut, he didn't want to fight in this stupid war against the dead, he wanted to instead turn the Ironborn Fleet, and its Golden Company to where his daughter has been taken.

The House of Black and White, the ancient order of assassins, his greatest enemy since his father.

They've taken his daughter, holding her in their order, doing whatever those ungodly people do to children that they take in or kidnap.

Indeed, he was close to turning this fleet and burning the first Free City to the ground, taking their bank and coin, raping their women and putting their children on pikes from arse to head. He would feed the men of the city to sharks, but the assassins? Arya's mentor, he has special plans for them.

But, just before he settled on the plan, Arya convinced him that during her time in Braavos, she's taken to peeking at their defenses.

Braavos hasn't been sacked, not ever. The Titan of Braavos is a mastery of defense. Enemy ships can be steered onto the rocks by the watchmen inside the Titan, and stones and pots of burning pitch can be dropped onto the decks of any that attempt to pass between the Titan's legs without leave.

He would lose most of his ships before he even reaches their port, he will have been defeated before getting his little girl back.

It was painful, turning away from his fatherly urgings to rescue Alissa, but he has a better chance with Daenerys help and to get that, he needs to help Westeros deal with the threat Beyond-the-Wall.

So he reluctantly charted a course to the North, to aid his allies.

"Arya, hear me when I say that I've seen much larger Ports than this... I can show you when this war is done, that is if you like to?" He asked, it didn't sound like he imagined it to, in his head, it sounded brave and confident.

It is also because of the woman he is speaking to, Arya had comforted him during the days after they left that damned port.

In that short time, he's grown close to her, they've shared their laughter and a few stories. He's grown to know her as a person, not the girl he protected from the Faceless Men.

He blamed her a bit, aye, in his darker moments he accused her of what happened and cursed himself for protecting her. She wasn't a coward, she defended herself and, when it got a lot more heated, she punched him in the face, even knocked one of his teeth out.

"I don't plan on marrying anyone when I get home, I want to travel the world." She paused, and the dream she desires is a good one, one he likes. "I told this woman, Lady Crane, she asked me where I would go and I said: East is West, but what's West of Westeros? It's something I wanted to see since seeing my brother's headless body being paraded around his burning camp." It must have been painful, to see such a thing.

His mother, he was too young to know her. She was his uncle Victarion's Salt-Wife, with fire-kissed hair and yellow eyes. His father seduced her, his uncle nearly killed her and him at the time, he would have succeeded if not for his uncle Balon. The Lord of the Iron Islands had sent his father and mother away, and his father threw her overboard near Seagard only to return and take him when he'd heard that she's had a boy.

He was two, he watched his mother try and push him away, to stop his father from taking him. He was two years old when he watched his father, the Crows-Eye shed the blood of his birth mother on the floor with the same ax that he was given to survive on Sothoryos, the same weapon he used to kill Euron in the same way.

"Is that a yes, or a no? Princess, I would be glad to have your company." His tone was genuine, and his smile was kind.

Arya glanced at him, then to White Harbor, towards her homeland. She looked at it like it was like being reunited with one's family, just like that, he was reminded of his own home.

The Iron Islands; the soul, and body of the Ironborn people. Yet it isn't home, not for some time.

"I want to think about it, I mean, we have a war to fight... And I'm not a Princess, you arse!" He chuckled as he walked away, smirking all the while.

He walked up to his first mate, Baelor Blacktyde who stood in attention.

"A raven was sent ahead, King Vickon. White Harbor has set spots and the King in the North awaits our landing." The King in the North? Oh, Jon the Boy.

He does wonder what Jon the Bastard will think of him, bringing his sister from her self-imposed exile. Anger, anger is definitely one of them, the boy never really liked him to begin with because they both vied for the affections of Queen Daenerys.

Ah, to lay eyes on the beauty he hadn't seen for such a long time. I wonder if she is in the North, she should be before her army. His thought trailed to that night of lust and passion, so long after they'd taken King's Landing and killed Cersei Lannister.

"Then we better dress in our finer clothes, then." He patted Baelor on the back, "Baelor, we haven't known one another long, but you are loyal. You were the first to rise for me in the Kingsmoot, and defended me when we defeated my father on the Narrow Sea." He commented on Baelor's devotion to him, "You aren't an Ironborn, raised on the mainland by the Reach, but you've proven to be a god among men on the sea." Baelor nodded once to him, for his praise.

"Thank you, my King, it brings me much honor to be under your service and sail your ship." He smiled and looked on ahead, with a deep and sorrowful sigh.

"When I get my daughter back, I foretell that she will bring about a great change to the Ironborn. Before that, I will make a change to us, to discipline our people into more than a band of raiders on ships. I will lay the foundations for her, for my little girl." He said to Baelor who bowed his head as they inched closer to land.

He and his landing party disembarked off of the Silence, meeting a group of men gathered at the port gates.

He recognized the man, Ser Davos. Most of all, he recognized Jon Snow, and Snow definitely saw Arya, he watched as she ran to her brother, embracing him tightly.

It was sweet, really. Arya's often spoke of her brothers and sister, especially Jon Snow. I don't like him, probably never will, I do enjoy Arya's company. He sighed and put his hands behind his back, waiting for the King in the North to notice him, but he noticed that Jon was purposely ignoring him.

"Vickon," Jon grumbled out, he smirked and mockingly bowed to greet his grace.

"King Jon, first of your name." The tension was palpable, that is no understatement just from him and Jon staring- No, more like glaring with hate.

Jon knew what he wanted to hear, and if not for Arya nudging him, then he wouldn't get it.

"King Vickon, I want to thank you, for bringing my sister home... I longed thought she was dead." Now there it is, the reluctance to thank him was a pleasurable thing to see.

"... It was no trouble, she has a right to fight this war too." He looked at the weapons carried by some of the Northmen, black-rocks. "How much Dragonglass did we mine out? Hopefully enough to stem the tide of the dead." He hoped and from the grim looks on Jon, that doesn't seem the case.

"Out of Dragonstones, we were able to fashion 29,037 weapons out of the Dragonglass. Mostly spears and ax's." He smirked, reaching around and pulling out his weapon.

Obtaining a hammer and some help, he tore the bladed part out and handed it to Baelor.

"Then I'll need some stone for my ax. We have work to do, right?" He asked Jon and Arya, they ain't got a lot of time to waste.

There is a war to fight.

Four Weeks, Later 

The Wall and all of its castles were full, nearly eighty-thousand soldiers manned the defenses and camps lined the forts, especially Castle Black.

His fleet patrolled the waters at East-Watch by the Sea, Jon said that he doesn't know if the dead can swim, but he wouldn't be under-cautious about it.

"There has been no word, our scouts have reported no movement in the forest, it is dead- No animals were seen except for ravens, but my brother controls them," Jon said around the table with everyone in attendance, he honestly felt very bored, to say the least.

His blue eyes instead eyed Arya, who glanced at him before turning away, shifting awkwardly and listening to what Jon was talking about.

"Where is this undead army? Can't Lord Bran see them." One of the Northmen said, and Jon shook his head no.

"His visions are limited, he sees nothing more without the Night King interfering with his powers." That is troubling, all these mystics aren't going to stop the dead.

"I say we move and take the fight to them, we have eighty-thousand men, more coming with the Dragon Queen. Her dragons will bring the dead to their knees!" He had enough, he had to say what most of these people were thinking.

Alas, they have to wait for her grace to arrive, whenever she finally decides to bring her forces and dragons to finish this threat beyond this hunk of ice. Everyone was eyeing him, mainly because he wasn't one for outbursts, well, not during these damned meetings.

He left picking up his ax and storming out of the feasting hall, it was moments later when he was forced to turn around and face Arya Stark.

"Want to tell me what that was about, or are you going to keep pouting?" He grimaced, when did Arya become so annoyingly caring? He shook his head no.

"Why don't you go away, I am sure Lord Gendry would like your company." He sulked back and thought she had walked away, but she didn't.

"I don't want to see Gendry, I want to be here." She said, Arya's tone was genuine and he wished that it wasn't.

It would make pushing her away that much easier, but then again, he also doesn't want her to be pushed away.

Four weeks it's been, he delivered on his promise to bring the Golden Company to the Wall, he delivered on his unofficial quest to bring Arya Stark back to her home. He should be away from here, his fleet can act as a defense in the case of the Dead learning to swim, but other than that he doesn't know how to lead units or hold to strategize on land, there is no use for him here... So far from the sea.

It was Arya who wanted him to stay at her side, such as when they went to Winterfell, then to the Wall and Castle Black. He wished he could leave, especially when he would see Arya and Gendry get, familiar, with one another.

He wasn't a jealous man, far from it, he'd partake in sharing a current bed-mate with his crew or a good friend.

Yet, over the time from Braavos to getting the Golden Company and coming North, he's grown fond of the She-Wolf, fonder than he'd liked to. Seeing her and that bastard Stag speak as they have, it frustrated him and he has concealed it until now.

That and it's been a long time since he's had a woman, much too long and the dirty thoughts he's had about Arya has given him one too many restless nights.

Should I tell her, about my desires? No doubt Good King Jon will have my head for it. He usually threw caution to the wind for things like this, he did so with Daenerys, but with Arya? It's become quite difficult.

"... Arya, I want to say something." He hesitated for a moment, Arya was looking at him, waiting for him to finish, "Ahem, Arya Stark... I- "

He didn't get to finish, because he heard the roaring sound of three dragons... Daenerys was here, finally.