Chapter Text
The ritual wasn't as terrible as Thea had imagined it was going to be. It required King’s blood, and lots of it. She had thought for one moment Aemon was asking her to kill old King Robert, but of course he was more sensible than that.
They all had King’s blood; Robbyn and Thea through their father, Aemon from his ancestors, even Harlen volunteered some, though unknowingly, when Thea persuaded him to play a risky bedroom game involving ropes and a knife. Mother's blood was most potent of all, being both mother and sister to a King, with her coming from the ancient bloodline of Winter kings.
Aside from Harlen, all of them had their blood sucked by leeches, which were then ground up into a paste. On the night of a full moon, a lump of it was stirred into a thin broth Thea had to drink, which also contained dragon blood, wolf meat and the eye of a stag. The rest of the paste was spread out into curious symbols on her stomach, which glowed unnaturally when Aemon chanted over them, his eyes glinting blood-red in the firelight.
Thea could not wash off the leech paste until it burned, telling her a child had been conceived. She lay with Harlen repeatedly that night, wearing a dark night dress so the dark marks would not be visible through it. In the hour of the wolf, her stomach began to sting, and she hurried to her water bowl, and used a rag to wash away the evidence of the blood magic. She poured the incriminating bloody water out of the window, and settled back into bed with her oblivious husband. Sleep did not come easy, but then she did not expect it to ever again, now that some kind of half-breed monster was growing within her.
*
When she returned from breaking her fast in the morn with Robbyn and Mother, outside in the gardens, (having insisted that the babe needed fresh air and for her not to be cooped up inside every single day), Thea found a surprise guest in her solar.
A dark and silent hulk of a man stood in the corner the room when she entered it. His dark brow was heavy with a natural scowling look, his features best suited to grim expressions. Thea started in surprise, before a wide smile broke out on her face.
“Nuncle!” She cried, running forward to throw her arms about Victarion Greyjoy’s beefy neck. “Oh, what a lovely surprise!”
Her late lord father’s uncle patted her on the back gently, a man very much aware of his own strength.
“And a sweet sight you are, lass.” he said gruffy, with a small grin.
“Have you come to King’s Landing for trade? Or is it only a waypoint to somewhere more adventurous?” asked Thea, her eyes bright with excitement.
She rarely saw her Ironborn relatives, living as she did at the other side of Westeros. And with how distantly they were treated by the Baratheon court at King’s Landing, she could not blame them for not wanting to make the journey often. Though they were always received with joy by Thea herself, the rest of the court were leery and would often make rude japes at their expense. Only to make the situation more uncomfortable when the Ironborn responded in kind. Thea could not blame them for it; her people were proud of their heritage and rightly so, even if they only raided far from Westeros’ shores now, as per the agreements set down after the war of the False Stags.
Mother entered the room behind her, silent as a grave.
“He is here for me,” she said, and Thea turned to her in shock. It had been many years since Mother had set foot on the Islands. She said they were too full of ghosts and memories for her, the entirety of their shores barren and unwelcoming, now that Father had alighted from them forever.
“For you?” Thea clarified, “Are you going home to Pyke, Mother?”
“No,” said Mother shortly. “I told you I am done providing an escape from calamity, for you and your sister both. And unlike you girls, your brother Urrigon is perfectly capable of seeing to his own affairs, without my help. Jon, likewise, does not need me either.”
“But surely you cannot mean…?” Thea trailed off uncertainly.
Mother and Father had travelled far in their day. Her youngest brother had even been born in Essos, during their far-flung adventures. But Mother was not the sort of woman to go gallivanting off on her own, without the protection that a marriage afforded her. Mother hadn’t left the comfort of their family since father died; first advising Uri when he won the Kingsmoot, then spending several years in the Reach with Robbyn. Mother visited King’s Landing occasionally to check on Thea, or else went to Jon at the Crag, in mainland Ironborn territory. It was extremely out of character for Mother to want to leave them, and that worried Thea.
“But where shall you go?” She pressed, “Do you truly mean to leave Westeros?”
“Did I not say as much already?” Mother reminded her, “My nerves cannot take being the shelter for your every storm. Send your pleas to Uri, and hope that he will save you from yourself.”
“There won’t be a need for it in future!” Thea wailed, “Mother, please don’t go!”
“Hush, child.” Mother said firmly, “It shall not be forever. But it is past time that I visited your brother in Volantis.”
The set of Mother's chin was firm, her burning red hair bouncing faintly as she shook her head, resolute.
“Volantis?” repeated Thea faintly. “But there have been rumours of grave dangers in the Summer Sea, even so close to Westeros. The Stepstones have closed themselves off, and the Dornish report more and more strange occurrences by the day!”
“Why else would I call upon your Uncle to defend me?” Mother pointed out, “Do you think me ignorant of the world outside our family, Thea?”
“No, Mother,” Thea blushed, chastened. “It is only that I worry for you, and I need you here. It is my first babe Mother. What if I cannot raise it properly?”
“It will be a babe like any other,” said Mother reassuringly, with a warning glance toward Nuncle Victarion, who of course knew nothing about the magic. “You have your goodmother and sister here at court. Margaery can provide you with much motherly comfort, and I will write to you. You are not alone, and I have not seen my youngest son for years. Letters alone cannot ease a mother's mind.”
Thea signed heavily. She did not know what manner of beast was growing within her, and doubted even Robbyn could ease her worries over it. Selfish it might make her, but she needed Mother more than her brother did. Men were expected to cope alone. But a woman grew to rely on the ladies around her for support. It was not fair of Mother to leave her now, at such a crucial time. But Thea could see that Mother would not be moved by this, so tried another tactic.
“What of yourself Mother?” She said carefully, “Do you not worry what might happen, should you be separated on the journey? Nuncle’s protection is formidable, but an unwedded woman with a prestigious name, is always at risk. You could be forcibly wed for your perceived wealth.”
Mother levelled her with a flat look. “Clever girl. Did you think that was a conclusion I would miss? That is also why your uncle is here.”
Thea looked between her two relatives. Nuncle, silently brooding, a man built like a brick wall. So like Jon in looks, that their brother constantly wore his hair and clothing in the manner their father did, to avoid the japes that he was actually their Nuncle’s get. Now the silly rumours would begin again in earnest.
Thea pointed this out, but Mother only laughed.
“It will be a marriage in name only, and anyone who knows us well will understand that.” She dismissed Thea’s final argument with a wave of her hand. "This way I will not have to give up the Greyjoy name, which I shall relinquish for no man."
Mother stepped close to her then, placing her hands on the sides of Thea’s face.
“This is not a punishment, my darling girl,” she said softly, “Do not take it to heart so. But it is time that I left these shores. Everywhere I look, I see echoes of your father. Of the life we spent together, in such love and laughter, cut short in its prime. It breaks my heart, at each and every reminder that we will never reenact those moments together again.”
“But to go so far?” Thea sniffled. “Must you, truly?”
“I have never been to the part of Volantis which Sandor calls home,” Mother replied, “It will be an adventure. Which is excellent, as I am in sore need of one.”
Thea surrendered then, and allowed her lady mother to pull her close. Whatever creature was soon to be born, suckle from her and call her ‘mother’, she must learn to deal with, without the protection of her own. She supposed it was probably a fitting consequence. To be plunged into such a circumstance by the Drowned God, in recompense for almost destroying the lives of his most devoted followers.