Aelon Greyjoy (deadcannotdie) wrote in awod, @ 2010-02-21 22:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | aelon greyjoy, week 2 |
May 10th: Long after sundown
Who: Aelon Greyjoy
When: Late at night
Where: Sailing past Dragonstone
Status: Narrative, closed
Rating: PG-13
The night was deadly dark, but the wind was just staring to pick up on the open water for the first time in hours, and Aelon's men were glad for the respite this brought from their dismal rowing. He had chosen only the best members out of the crew of his Grey Death, an Ironborn longship now masquerading as a sellsail's vessel, the smaller crew including the younger of his two brothers, Vickon Greyjoy, along with him as oarmaster of the ship. It was less conspicuous to travel when you were so small a crew, a behavior unlike the Ironborn that they all were, and it had been his brother's idea to switch the sails and stain the hull with sealing tar to make their disguise all the more believable. Although they were still a few leagues from their destination, an out-of-the-way section of the harbor in Kings Landing were the less reputable tended to moor and gather, their clothes were changed and the names they were to go by once entering the city were chosen as well. Aelon was to be Harlow Vance, a lowly bannerman to the Tullies of the riverland, who had swapped his blue and red cloak for that of a simple sellsail, and Vickon was to be his lowborn squire, Danion Rivers who had come along with him from the twins. The Freys had always had enough children to be confusing to anyone not well versed in their gigantic family tree.
However, Aelon disliked the idea tremendously of having to take the name of another, especially such a lowborn, unremarkable person as Harlow Vance, whoever he had been before he was killed, but at least he hadn't debased himself to a bastard's status. Vickon didn't seem to mind, which Aelon found to be both surprising and slightly bothersome. A Greyjoy should have more pride in himself and his heritage, especially his favorite younger brother. But he didn't think that the deception itself would be the greatest of difficulties. Aelon had been through many more tough trials in the past, and lying had always come easily and naturally to him, and the only resentment that he harbored at all was towards his father's decision to keep his middle brother Hecktor behind. Of course, he relished the opportunity to travel into the thick of the Seven Kingdoms to get the lay of the land, its people and its rulers, as the Iron Islands were often left out of such news and discussions. But with Aelon much more than most of the way across the world and his brother Vickon with him, the only remaining heir to Pyke was left safe at home on the rock, among only their servants, the seabirds and the lichen.
And the Greyjoys were not known for playing the game of succession peacefully.
But Kings Landing still lay only a day or less away across the water now that the wind had finally picked up, and the dark mass of Dragonstone was looming higher and higher against the horizon, black on black on black. Aelon could almost see the gargoyles and demons and wraiths that stared down from the walls and turrets with angry, vengeful eyes approaching, and out of pure curiosity he urged Vickon to pull the boat closer then was necessary. The sails snapped in the growing wind and carried them past in relative silence, their oars bumping against the hull as they were pulled back inside. Once Aelon thought he saw the flash of torchlight on the armor and mail of a sentry, but one of his bowmen's strings thrummed like a solitary insect in the night, and a shadow separated from the walkway to bounce off the wall, over and over again, all the way down into the ocean where it hit with a quite splash.
They would be pulling into the harbor sometime around sundown tomorrow, and Aelon was glad for it, as they were in desperate need of supplies. The voyage had taken the better part of a year due to summer storms and incredibly far distances, and the time had been wearing on Aelon and his brother. He lived for his time spent aboard a ship and on the water, where a captain was King on his own decks, but a long voyage with an invisible destination was rough on all hands. The entire crew was sick of the salt and the sea at this point, and longed for land beneath their feet just as much as the Greyjoys.
But they were arriving tomorrow, and now his name was Harlow Vance, and his brother was only a Rivers.