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Chapter 32: Ch 23 A chance to reach The Reach...

Chapter Text

Dacey led Jon down the spiralling stairs into the dank depths where the Ironborn imprisoned their captives. The oppressive humidity and putrid stench in the air were enough to quash anyone's appetite. If there was one thing you could always count on finding aboard an Ironborn ship, it was a prison for their thralls.

Over the past few years, Jon had painstakingly assembled a special crew from scratch handpicking skilled and trusted warriors from Winterfell, Bear Island, and a few neighbouring holdings. All of them underwent rigorous training in a nearby secret place to excel in sneak attacks and naval combat. And as they gathered experience they have become somewhat of an expert in hunting down Ironborn vessels to bolster Bear Island's fleet.

Hardly a month went by without their successful pursuit and capture of one or two ships and of course, most of the credit went to their scout Cory, Dacey's orca. So while the years had been very helpful in boosting Bear Island's nonexistent fleet, hunting Ironborn also had a very repulsive side effect.

The whole crew got to see first-hand all kinds of atrocities committed by the Ironborn against their thrall prisoners and so-called Salt wives. And after the first few times, Jon had learned to suppress his disgust, though he avoided the prison whenever possible. Seeing those atrocities was also one of the reasons Jon's crew never hesitated in completely massacring any Ironborn crew they come across.

"It is right down here..." Dacey said as she lowered her head due to the low ceiling and entered the gloomy prison, with Jon following closely behind.

As Jon descended, he caught sight of one of his men, Harold, standing guard outside a grimy, wet wooden prison divided into three cells. Currently, only one of the cells held two girls—an older one, dressed as a maid, who regarded him with vigilance and fear in her eyes, and a younger girl who clung to the older girl in fear as they entered.

The sight of the place and the knowledge that it likely held numerous female prisoners was too disheartening for Jon but he had accepted long ago that he was in a place where things like these were happening all around the world every single hour.

Jon was relieved to realize that his initial assumption was incorrect—the younger girl couldn't be Margaery since she appeared closer in age to Sansa.

Dacey noticed him standing there, observing the captives and offered an explanation. "The older girl serves as a maid in their household. It seems she shielded the Tyrell girl and convinced the Ironborn scum that they could fetch a higher ransom from the Reach if she remained 'unspoiled,'" Dacey concluded, her face contorted in disgust.

Jon nodded before he suddenly turned toward the massive Man who was standing beside the door with a sad look in his eyes and asked in a teasing tone, "Why didn't you unlock the door, Harry? Afraid of a little girl, are you?" He was trying to ease the mood a little.

"Of course not," Harry retorted immediately. He was Harold, a former fisherman from Bear Island, and also the one who Jon had warned last night not to shout before attacking. He was somewhat of a comic relief for the group Jon had created even though he was one of his most fierce warriors, he was also a little stupid so they always made fun of him.

"I think, Jon, he's still bothered by that story you shared by the fire a few nights ago," Dacey whispered loudly, grinning. "You know, the one about the House of Black and White and how they send young ones as assassins. He probably thinks the little girl is some kind of assassin."

"N-No! I didn't mean—I mean—Ugh," Harold stumbled over his words, flustered by their teasing. With Jon and Dacey snickering at him, he hastily excused himself, "I'll go check on... some things," and made his way back up the stairs. Jon heard a small snort of amusement coming from the prison, and when he looked, he saw a pair of eyes peering at him from the maid's protective embrace.

"Well then..." Jon said, waving his hand toward the prison. It was a signal for Dacey to open the door, but she remained motionless, causing Jon to look at her quizzically.

"What? Don't give me that look," Dacey shrugged. "I don't have the key. Do you think I searched every person I killed?"

"Ahem... Anyway, let's consider our options," Jon dismissed the awkwardness, resting his chin in his hand as he pondered. "If I'm correct, the keys should likely be with the person killed closest to here, and the bodies shouldn't have been disposed of yet—"

Dacey rolled her eyes and strode toward the door. Taking her mace from her waist, she smashed the lock in a single strike, causing the maid to gasp in surprise.

"—Or you can do that," Jon finished with a weak smile as Dacey smirked at him. Shaking his head, he addressed the maid, "Come on. Let's go somewhere cleaner and brighter than here, and we'll get you something to eat."

...

It all began with that cursed Starkhorse.

Tara could still recall that day vividly, as clear as the flowing waters of the Mander. Little Lady Margery had been to the market at the bustling port for a normal excursion, she was browsing through the goods that the merchants bought to Highgarden when she overheard a merchant from Lannisport gushing about a marvellous invention known as the Starkhorse

Like the child she was, Margery approached the merchant and bombarded him with questions. Learning that it was a wooden horse suitable for riders of all ages, even little girls like her, she was overjoyed as she had been having difficulties riding a horse and was very envious of her brother Loras who was a natural.

Immediately, she expressed her desire to purchase one, but her excitement was dashed when the merchant explained that only a limited number of Starkhorses were available in Lannisport, his hometown and that they were a speciality primarily made in the North so it was difficult to get a hand on them as the few people who had them weren't very keen on selling them.

But Lady Margery, it seems was adamant this time so the moment she went back to Highgarder she immediately threw a rare tantrum at her father and Lord Mace, bless him, was in polite words, a pushover and immediately agreed with his daughter's request without giving it much thought.

So two ships were arranged to be sent toward Lannisport immediately so that they could buy the Starkhorse thingy his daughter wanted. Little Alla, Margery's friend and aspiring lady-in-waiting, who had longed for travel, accompanied her. Tara, Lady Alerie's maid, joined them as well.

And as for the reason they didn't even think of sailing straight to North to buy these Starkhorses, where they were made, was an obvious one, 'Ironborn'.

Any ships that wanted to sail from Reach, Dorne or Lannisport to the North had to go through the chain of Islands where every single Noble family had fleets of ships that they liberally used to pirate, even though at the moment they didn't do it too openly due to the recent war.

And the journey by road from Reach to the North would be long and arduous and more importantly incredibly expensive. It was also one of the reasons there was no trade between these kingdoms. So they only had one option from the beginning.

And for a few days, everything was fine, the weather was good, the winds were in their favour and they were making good time for Lannisport but it was then that they ironically encountered three Ironborn ships, the very thing they were avoiding.

Out of nowhere, just before sunset one day, the Ironborn descended upon them. The Ironborn were known across the world for their speed so the captain of the ship knew escape was futile. Gambling on battle, he hoped to defy the odds, but alas, they lost that wager.

Every single warrior present on their ships fought valiantly to their last breath and Ironborn who hadn't been expecting such resistance incurred huge losses both in people and ships. It was also probably the reason they slaughtered every single person without taking any thralls in their anger.

Tara and little Alla were the only survivors, having hidden themselves during the onslaught. Yet luck was not entirely on their side and they were found out soon after the fight was over. Fortunately(Or Unfortunately) for Tara, the Captain found her pretty enough to consider taking her as a salt wife and little Alla was spared because of Tara's urging him about her prize as a ransom as she had tricked him into believing that she was the daughter of Lord Mace.

Thus, Tara found herself imprisoned, enduring the aftermath of her ordeal at the hands of the captain. She sought solace in comforting little Alla, succumbing to the despair that threatened to consume her.

Then, two days later in the dead of night, the sounds of battle reached her ears. She had been equally hopeful and scared at that time, hopeful that somehow their Home had gotten news of their peril and sent a rescue party and scared that the attacking party could just be another band of pirates, potentially even more brutal.

When the towering Northerner entered the prison cell, Tara braced herself for the worst. However, to her surprise, the giant figure merely surveyed the surroundings before inquiring about her identity. Upon learning that she hailed from the Reach and had a little girl from House Tyrell with her, he immediately sent the information up the chain. And a minute later entered the Man or rather the teen along with the woman named Dacey, and almost immediately he got them freed from their prison.

And now she was in the Captain's room standing along with little Alla who was trying her best to look like a noble in front of the teen who seemed to be the leader around here and beside him stood the woman Dacey from before, a beautiful but a wild woman who was too comfortable with a mace for Tara's taste.

...

"So, tell me, what is your name?" Jon inquired, standing at ease behind the desk. A plate of apples and other provisions that were usually available on a ship were placed before him, which he had already encouraged the girls to partake in.

With a respectful bow, the maid promptly responded, "I am a maid at Highgarden, Milord. I serve Lady Alerie herself, who, if you are not familiar, is the wife of Lord Paramount—"

"I am aware of who she is," Jon interjected, flashing a smile, before turning his attention to the young girl with brown eyes and hair. He addressed her kindly, "And what is your name?"

Casting a swift glance at the maid, the girl said in a single breath, "I am a Tyrell and I am sure that if you bring me back to Highgarder you will han-hand-handchomely rewarded,"

Amusement danced in Jon's eyes as he observed the little girl's attempt to not look intimidated He then shifted his gaze to the maid, who he was sure had taught the little girl to say exactly those things, "Now, correct me if I'm mistaken, but the only daughter of Lord Mace I know is named Margaery Tyrell, said to be the most beautiful flower in the Reach. However, she is even older than me. So, you're not suggesting that you're Margaery, are you?"

"That is—Umm," The little girl was flustered and immediately looked at the maid in panic who instantly stiffened. It seems they had not counted on Jon being knowledgeable about Lady Margery's age.

It was clear to Jon that their intention was for him to mistakenly take the little girl as Margery, which the maid probably believed would improve their chances of survival. He was sure that this would have easily worked on the Ironborn who were said to be even more isolated than the North with the South.

"Ah, it seems there's a misunderstanding here," Jon remarked, his tone soothing, as he tried to calm the girls before him, "I am not trying to find out about your identity for ransom or anything like that. I can assure you that I would try my best to make sure that you reach your home as safely as possible no matter who you are,"

The maid remained sceptical, reflecting the negative perception of Northerners in the South, where they were often considered barbarian, and Dacey wasn't helping much, with her amused expression and leisurely eating the apple that was surely from the Maid's ship before they were looted by the Ironborn.

"How about this..." Jon took a deep breath and spoke with the utmost solemnity, "I promise you, in the name of my father Eddard Stark, the Lord Paramount of the North, that I mean you no harm. I will do everything in my power to ensure your safe return to the Reach, regardless of who you are,"

The little girl gasped, her eyes widening with realization. The maid, meanwhile, narrowed her eyes and asked with caution, "Are you Robb Stark?"

"No I am not Robb Stark," Jon shook his head and before Tara could ask any follow-up question he said with a charismatic smile, "I am his more handsome half-brother, Jon Snow,"

Understanding dawned in the maid's eyes, while the little girl blurted out, "You're Lord Stark's bastard—" Before she could continue, the maid swiftly covered the girl's mouth, offering a deep bow of apology to Jon. "I beg your forgiveness, milord. She is but a young girl who knows no better. Please, forgive her—"

"No need to worry," Jon assured them, gesturing for them to rise from their bowing positions, "As I promised you I won't hurt you and she didn't say anything wrong—I am a bastard and I am not really offended by it or anything,"

Still unsure, the maid cautiously observed Jon and calmed down when he didn't show any sign of anger, which bastards usually had in their eyes when their parentage was mentioned. She was still effectively under their mercy at the moment and didn't want to provoke him so she immediately gestured toward little Alla who got the meaning and said with a remorseful bow, "I apologize for my rudeness, MyLord,"

"As I said you have no need to apologize and I am not a lord," Jon replied patiently, "Now I believe it is time you tell me who you are and where you were headed,"

After a brief pause, the maid took a deep breath and began, "I spoke the truth, Milord. I am Lady Alerie's maid, and this young girl," she gestured towards the child, "is a Tyrell, though not from the main branch. She is the daughter of Ser Leo Tyrell and Lady Alys Bessbury. She is Lady Margaery's cousin and is also in training to be her Lady-in-Waiting..."

Jon pondered the information for a moment, recalling one such character in the ASOIAF novel who came with Margery to King's Landing as her aide and was also the one who befriended Sansa, among other things.

"...and while on a trip to Lannisport to buy some Starkhorses we encountered those pirates who even though had no obvious sigil I am sure were part of the Ironborn—"

"Wait, did you say Starkhorse?" Jon's curiosity peaked, his eyes sparkling with interest.

"Yes, Milord," The maid continued to call him a lord, probably in the hopes that he would be flattered but Jon didn't care about it at all, "Lady Margery had heard about it and wanted one so we were going to Lannisport where it is said to be available,"

When the Starkhorse Factory in Bear Island finally started producing at a smooth pace and he was satisfied with their amount of Stock. Jon felt that it was time for him to fulfil his vision of selling Starkhosrses to all the cities in Westeros and Essos. Starting with Lannisport, the nearest major city in the West, Jon embarked on a slow and deliberate introduction of his Starkhorses to the market, releasing a few batches at a time over the past few months.

However, the volume of exports remained relatively low. The trade relied solely on their own ships, as no merchant fleet dared to navigate the treacherous route between Lannisport and Bear Island.

They were the only ones who could sail away from the coast using easy directions provided by Jon with Frost's help or if he wasn't available, Dacey was also a good navigator with Cory's help. This allowed them to navigate a course that steered clear of the Iron Islands by a large margin. With each Ironborn ship, they captured, their fleet's size grew, giving Jon hope that they would soon have enough vessels to export as much as they desired.

Yet, the resounding success in Lannisport took Jon by surprise. He had hoped to impress local merchants with a few Starkhorses and secure them as distributors. This approach was preferable to handling the buying and selling himself, which would have required establishing a shop and establishing connections with local nobility—a hassle he sought to avoid.

Regardless, Jon continued steadily supplying Lannisport with batches of Starkhorses, enjoying a higher profit margin than the ones sold in the North. On his selling trips, he also took the opportunity to purchase inexpensive local products from the Westerlands, bringing them back to bolster the economy in the western part of the North, which didn't enjoy a port like the White Harbour.

And he was just looking for a way to do the same in Reach, so when the wonderful opportunity presented itself before him he was ecstatic. Because he knew that if he played it exactly right then not only would he be able to penetrate the market of Reach, but he would also be able to access their dirt-cheap corps which would be a boon for the whole of the North.

"Ah—You must be hungry," Jon smiled warmly as he addressed the maid and the young girl. Then he turned to Dacey and requested, "Dacey can you get someone to give them a room and also provide them with some food, I think they deserve it after their harrowing experience,"

Dacey nodded in understanding, taking both girls with her as they gratefully followed along. Left alone in the room, Jon pondered for a while before reaching a decision. The first order of business was to write a letter to his father, Lord Stark. If he wanted to fully seize this opportunity, he would need to wield some of his father's authority and influence.