"One seat cannot accommodate two claimants. Why not allow the Iron Throne to arbitrate your dispute?"
Osha's hand rested casually upon her sword hilt as she offered this suggestion with a smile that did not reach her eyes.
The Great Hall fell silent for the span of several heartbeats before erupting into even greater tumult than before.
The Iron Throne?!
Aeron "Damphair" could not contain his glare of outrage.
"The Drowned God watches over our sacred traditions," he spat. "How dare you profane this hall and the Seastone Chair with such words!"
Osha's expression was one of practiced confusion. "Strange. Were you not present when Balon reaffirmed his allegiance to the Iron Throne? Or did you simply fail to hear his proclamation?"
The Iron Throne indeed possessed the authority to arbitrate disputes among its vassal lords—and the obligation to resolve conflicts that threatened the realm's peace.
But therein lay the question that hung over the assembly like storm clouds: were the Iron Islands still truly vassals of the Iron Throne?
Many captains raised their voices in protest, a chorus of defiance rising from the long tables.
Free ironborn will never wholeheartedly bend the knee to the king of the green lands!
Slaughter these interlopers and offer them as sacrifice! March upon the green lands!
Such thoughts churned in many minds—yet ultimately, none dared voice them aloud.
The new King of the Iron Islands had not yet been chosen. The future relationship with the Iron Throne remained uncertain. Words spoken in haste could bring either glory or ruin upon the speaker.
Baelor Blacktyde, Lord of Blacktyde and a follower of the Seven, cast his gaze toward the high platform, his expression unreadable.
Victarion frowned but held his tongue.
Asha's eyes sought out her mother's brother. "Rodrik the Reader" sat quietly in his place, offering only the faintest of smiles in return.
She then turned her attention to the Crow's Eye.
Euron stood with arms crossed against his chest, silently observing Osha and her party with predatory interest.
Twenty-one intruders had forced their way into the hall.
The woman who led them was slender yet tall, with the fluid grace of one who knew the dance of steel intimately.
Beside her stood a young slave boy with an oddly perceptive gaze. Perhaps, thought Euron, he would make an amusing plaything.
And the nineteen who followed them...
The smile in the Crow's Eye's lone orb gradually faded. These were dangerous warriors indeed—half bearing swords at their sides, the others carrying strange iron boxes that hummed with an energy he could not name. He could smell the magical aura emanating from their very flesh.
Especially one particular soldier.
Crow's Eye fixed his gaze upon this man, staring directly into eyes that returned his scrutiny with a glance filled with potent sorcery and arrogant mockery.
In that instant, a premonition of death—terrifying in its certainty—filled Euron's heart like black water into a drowning man's lungs.
They are warning me, the Crow's Eye realized with cold clarity.
Joffrey's gaze gradually shifted downward, coming to rest upon Euron's Valyrian steel scale armor.
Recovery runes, fortification runes, mental runes.
What a marvelous treasure.
The dense scales shimmered with golden light, adorned with vortex patterns, hieroglyphs, and mysterious symbols that resembled the majestic scales of some legendary dragon.
Even one ignorant of such crafts would be captivated by its exquisite craftsmanship.
Excluding the influence of the magical network he himself had established, the only place to obtain such a wonder would be the fiery ruins of Valyria itself.
Perhaps he should journey there personally to uncover the secrets of Valyria's destruction.
And what of the Dragon Horn rumored to be aboard the Silence?
Soon there would be answers to these questions and more.
Joffrey withdrew his scrutiny, calculating the current situation and the timing of his revelation.
Victarion commanded the Iron Fleet and the loyalty of several chieftains—no small force—yet he was not the ideal candidate in terms of either reputation or advantage. Having already declared for Asha, it was all but impossible for him to now claim the kingship for himself.
The Crow's Eye had returned with his crew of mutes and monsters, winning considerable support through his fearsome reputation, mysterious powers, and grandiose promises.
Asha enjoyed the backing of her uncle's House Harlaw and Victarion's formidable strength, yet her status as a woman would inevitably make it difficult to secure the unwavering loyalty of the more traditional captains.
Osha's twenty-person force might appear insignificant, yet none could ignore the Iron Throne she represented.
Even among the ironborn, there existed those who yearned for peace and respected the authority of the Iron Throne.
For instance...
Joffrey's gaze settled upon a young lord seated at the long table, his rich attire marking him as distinctly out of place among the surrounding chieftains.
Baelor Blacktyde.
The Lord of Blacktyde was a follower of the Seven who had been taken as a hostage and educated in Oldtown during his formative years.
Thus far, he had neither supported Asha nor acclaimed Euron. He had shown no excessive reaction to Osha's arrival and proclamation—indeed, he had offered her what appeared to be a genuinely cordial smile.
Joffrey mentally classified House Blacktyde as a neutral faction in the unfolding drama.
Through his arcane sight, dozens of figures around the hall now glowed with a soft blue light, marking them as potential allies. Hundreds more burned a threatening red, denoting enemies, while countless others remained unmarked, their allegiances yet to be determined.
Gradually, the clamor in the Great Hall began to subside, replaced by an eerie stillness that seemed to hold its own weight.
The principal actors sized one another up with calculating eyes, none willing to be the first to break the silence. The lesser chieftains and captains, naturally, dared not speak out of turn.
Only the eternal sound of the waves filled the void, a constant reminder of the sea's indifference to the ambitions of men. Human hearts were as unpredictable as those same waters.
Declare war on the Iron Throne? Fight for whom? Who would emerge victorious? How terrible would be the consequences of choosing poorly?
Many shifted uneasily in their seats, hands never straying far from their weapons.
Joffrey adjusted his posture, turning his attention to the kraken-shaped throne of oily black stone.
The Seastone Chair was indeed no ordinary object, concealing within itself a rich reservoir of energy. It appeared to be a superior conduit for mystical power than even dragon crystal.
A pity that no new runes had yet been discovered to harness its potential.
Clang~
A crisp, jarring sound of metal striking metal suddenly rang out.
All eyes turned instinctively toward the source. A captain had dropped the dagger he had been toying with onto his plate, the sound startling in the tense silence.
"Messenger of the Iron Throne."
"Qarl the Maid," one of Asha's loyal men, rose to his feet.
"Surely you don't intend to prop up Theon as Lord of the Iron Islands? To make him grovel at the feet of your king and offer up the blood and longships of the ironborn to green land lords?"
Though Qarl was not a captain of significant standing, none objected to his words in that moment.
"Indeed, Uncle," Asha said with a light laugh, turning to Victarion. "Father personally revoked Theon's right of inheritance, in the tower of Pyke. You were present—you heard his decree, did you not?"
A falsehood, and Victarion knew it for what it was.
Yet if Balon could witness the present scene, he likely would have disinherited Theon regardless.
A merciful lie.
The Iron Islands cannot be surrendered to the Iron Throne. Not to Asha, not even to the Crow's Eye.
A necessary deception.
Victarion nodded heavily. "Both Asha and I can testify that Balon revoked Theon's claim to the Seastone Chair nine years past."
Asha felt a surge of triumph—her uncle had committed fully to her cause. The Iron Islands are mine!
She glanced toward the Crow's Eye. Though she wondered at his continued silence, she no longer feared his challenge. At worst, she would claim her throne through steel and fire.
"Osha," she said, her voice already carrying the firmness and majesty of one born to rule. "According to all laws and traditions, the Iron Islands should pass to me. Do you object? Even the Iron Throne cannot act with such arbitrary disregard for custom!"
"Not at all." Osha remained unperturbed, though her grip tightened almost imperceptibly upon her sword hilt.
"Theon's position is not that of Duke."
"Nor King."
A soldier behind her stepped forward, moving toward the Seastone Chair as Osha continued to speak.
"But—"
The soldier moved past her, Osha following in his wake.
"Regent of the Iron Islands."
Regent? Before Asha and the others could contemplate the meaning of this title, they noticed the soldier's brazen advance and immediately called out to halt him.
"Soldier! Stand fast!"
A wave of invisible yet terrifying power swept through the hall.
Asha and those nearest the throne stiffened suddenly, their eyes glazing over as though caught in some unseen spell.
Everyone else in the Great Hall rose in alarm, hands reaching for weapons.
Three stone steps ascended to the Seastone Chair.
As the soldier placed his foot upon the first step, his plain breeches shimmered and transformed into garments black as the midnight sky, adorned with glittering silver stars.
Upon taking the second step, his unremarkable cloak shifted into a magnificent mantle embroidered with the forms of black stags and golden lions.
Those who had surged forward to intercept him faltered, their footsteps uncertain.
When he mounted the third and final step, the soldier's ordinary brown hair blazed into existence as golden as the summer sun.
And then...
He pushed past the frozen figures, seated himself directly upon the Seastone Chair, and turned to face the hall.
Only a handful recognized him in that moment of revelation.
"King Joffrey!"
The Crow's Eye retreated hastily, his face pale as he cried out: "Drowned God!!"