Post by The Light on Dec 8, 2012 13:54:00 GMT -5
Lord Jerron Greyjoy was dead. The news had come to him fifteen days prior and he had made his way to Pyke with haste. He had already been at sea by then, in the new ship Leman Harlaw had constructed for him. But the news had turned his slow journey into a rushed voyage through sun and storm, neither stopping nor slowing for none. Even now standing in his own home and castle, he still wore the dirty and soaked clothes he had worn when he arrived. A serving maid had offered him new clothes but he had refused. There were more pressing concerns at hand than the state of his garments. His father was dead. Lord Jerron Greyjoy was dead.
Vickon felt a great sadness at the loss of his father and he hated himself for it. His father had given him nothing. Why did he feel such sadness at the old bastard’s death? Vickon sighed. Although I hated him. He was still my father. He stood now, in his late Lord Father’s solar, overlooking the sea. The sky was a dark purple and the grey waters below were rough, a mighty storm almost imminent. Although the room itself was warm from a small fire the open windows allowed the cold storm breeze to penetrate and destroy the heat. Soon the room would be as cold as a crypt. Was the Storm God trying to tell them something about his father’s death? Vickon did not know. Leave the prophesying to the priests. “I suppose my younger brother will rule now. In name at least. With you as his regent I would presume? ” Old Lord Codd sat quietly in the room with him, his father’s castellan for as long as Vickon could remember. He continued, “The Iron Islands shall be weaker than ever then. Even my father was stronger than that. The other Lords shall rebel no doubt. They’ll battle it out with us and one another for dominance over the Iron Islands.” The Old man decided to speak then. “I am afraid that is unlikely.” Vickon pulled his eyes away from the encroaching storm and laughed at the old man. “You think they shall remain idle whilst a babe and old man rule over them? They are Ironborn!” Although it was dark in the room Vickon saw Old Lord Codd slowly shake his head. “Your brother shall not rule and I shall not be regent.” He stated calmly. "What?" Vickon did not understand. His young brother was his father’s only trueborn son. “One of my sister’s then?” Old Lord Codd shook his head again, “No, Lord Vickon. Your father legitimized you on his deathbed. You are to be his successor. Although he disliked you, it is true, he knew the Greyjoy’s would be destroyed if he did not.” Vickon was shocked. “Me? A Greyjoy?” He shook his head violently. “That’s not possible. Only a king has the power to legitimize a bastard, even here on the Iron Islands. Surely my father knew that.” Old Lord Codd gaze slowly shifted to Vickon then, a look of expectance and hunger in his eyes. Suddenly, Vickon was struck with realization, as a great storm strikes a lone ship at sea. “Oh.” Lightning flashed, the roar of thunder soon following it and the rain began falling with gale force. The Storm God was angry.
Vickon Pyke becomes Vickon Greyjoy, King of the Iron Islands.
Vickon felt a great sadness at the loss of his father and he hated himself for it. His father had given him nothing. Why did he feel such sadness at the old bastard’s death? Vickon sighed. Although I hated him. He was still my father. He stood now, in his late Lord Father’s solar, overlooking the sea. The sky was a dark purple and the grey waters below were rough, a mighty storm almost imminent. Although the room itself was warm from a small fire the open windows allowed the cold storm breeze to penetrate and destroy the heat. Soon the room would be as cold as a crypt. Was the Storm God trying to tell them something about his father’s death? Vickon did not know. Leave the prophesying to the priests. “I suppose my younger brother will rule now. In name at least. With you as his regent I would presume? ” Old Lord Codd sat quietly in the room with him, his father’s castellan for as long as Vickon could remember. He continued, “The Iron Islands shall be weaker than ever then. Even my father was stronger than that. The other Lords shall rebel no doubt. They’ll battle it out with us and one another for dominance over the Iron Islands.” The Old man decided to speak then. “I am afraid that is unlikely.” Vickon pulled his eyes away from the encroaching storm and laughed at the old man. “You think they shall remain idle whilst a babe and old man rule over them? They are Ironborn!” Although it was dark in the room Vickon saw Old Lord Codd slowly shake his head. “Your brother shall not rule and I shall not be regent.” He stated calmly. "What?" Vickon did not understand. His young brother was his father’s only trueborn son. “One of my sister’s then?” Old Lord Codd shook his head again, “No, Lord Vickon. Your father legitimized you on his deathbed. You are to be his successor. Although he disliked you, it is true, he knew the Greyjoy’s would be destroyed if he did not.” Vickon was shocked. “Me? A Greyjoy?” He shook his head violently. “That’s not possible. Only a king has the power to legitimize a bastard, even here on the Iron Islands. Surely my father knew that.” Old Lord Codd gaze slowly shifted to Vickon then, a look of expectance and hunger in his eyes. Suddenly, Vickon was struck with realization, as a great storm strikes a lone ship at sea. “Oh.” Lightning flashed, the roar of thunder soon following it and the rain began falling with gale force. The Storm God was angry.
Vickon Pyke becomes Vickon Greyjoy, King of the Iron Islands.