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It is currently WINTER in WESTEROS during the year 303 AC. The new moon cycle marks a full twenty years since the Mad King was murdered, and his son King Rhaegar ascended the Iron Throne in his place. Though the year is fresh, war in the Narrow Sea has left the Free Cities of Volantis and Tyrosh in ashes, and the Long Night continues to beckon from the Northern fringes of the Seven Kingdoms. With the Queen Lyanna presumed dead, the citizens of the realms look only to each other for survival.
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Alias: Ash
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Age: 20
Sworn To: Rodrik Greyjoy
Born to: House Greyjoy
Location: Pyke
Title: Captain
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Joined: 28-January 18
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Last Seen: May 9 2018, 07:41 PM
Local Time: May 22 2018, 01:09 AM
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ASHA GREYJOY

IRON ISLANDS

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Mar 1 2018, 01:10 AM
Something had to be done about Theon.

Whatever reasons her mother had for keeping the boy close to home could be honored no longer. He was a Greyjoy and a man grown; it was about time he started behaving like one. Asha had anticipated that their elder brothers would take that task upon themselves whilst she was fostering at Ten Towers, but Rodrik and Donnel had done no such thing. Sure Donnel had taken him to a brothel and bought him his first women - but bedding a woman didn’t make him a man, and it certainly didn’t make him captain material.

Upon first becoming Captain of her own ship Asha had fully intended to make her baby brother part of her crew. He could learn better that way, get his sea legs. See what it took to earn the respect of one’s men. But their mother had said no, she wanted him closer to home. At least for a little while longer. If that response was any indication of the man Theon had been raised to be, Asha wasn’t going to put up much of a fight. Making room for such a man on her ship would have called her own judgement into question, and at the time Asha’s place as Captain of the Black Wind had been far too uncertain. She’d still been working on proving herself.

But much had changed in the few short years that had passed since then. Balon, her father, had been returned from within the dragons clutches, for better or worse. He was a changed man, however, or so others told her. She’d never known the Kraken in his true glory, and was not particularly impressed with what he’d become. Neither was Rodrik, or so it would seem. Asha knew not what sort of coup he was planning, but she did know he’d requested her support in the months to come. In exchange Asha would be named Captain of the Iron Fleet - the first woman ever to hold such a title, if she was recalling her history lessons correctly.

The one condition she’d given was that Theon not be harmed in whatever was to come. Her eldest brother made no concrete promises; Theon was a grown man, after all, and his actions could not be predicted. Those actions may or may not have consequences. Thus the only thing she could do to ensure his safety was to ensure that he was indebted to her - loyal to her. When push came to shove Asha needed to know her youngest brother would be on their side, and he could not do so by hiding behind their mother’s skirts. It was time for Theon to become a man. A real man.

Having promised her mother that no harm would befall her precious babe, Asha kissed the woman’s cheek and headed for the docks where her ship was anchored. This was not the sort of journey she intended to casually invite her brother along for. Heading down to the docks, the Kraken’s daughter boarded her ship. ”Retrieve my youngest brother from the castle,” she instructed, turning her attention to the towering Rogan Rustbeard. ”Do not state your purpose. Use whatever means necessary.”
Jan 29 2018, 03:21 PM
TRIGGER WARNING: rape and other forms of violence against women


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<h1><iron>Captain Asha Greyjoy</iron></h1>
<h2>20 years old. the Kraken's Daughter. Ironborn. Amra Cerkezovic.</h2>
<h3>ash. 28. EST. discord/PM.</h3>
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<div class="genhead">We Do Not Sow</div>
<p>

The Kraken’s Daughter. I never quite knew how to feel about such a nickname. Pride? Perhaps. My father was known for being a ruthless champion of the Old Ways. But there is shame in such a moniker as well, for Balon Greyjoy was the Dragon’s prisoner for nearly eighteen years. I have no childhood memories of my father, only stories told to me by my uncle, Victarion. He too adheres to the Old Ways, forever loyal to my father, his liege lord even in absence. It seems such an odd contradiction, to remain loyal when power could be so easily grabbed. Perhaps this is why I’ve little respect for my father’s brother as a leader. His loyalty is admirable, but he is not the sort of Ironborn I wish to fashion myself after.
<br><Br>
From my mother I learned true strength. She is the ruler of the Iron Islands, in practice if not in name. My father’s absence was scarcely missed with her at the helm of our little kingdom of islands. My mother raised me to be bold, a brazen act for a lady, even on the harsh isles we call home. Women are intended to become a rockwife and subservient to their husbands, keeping the home for when they return. Such was never a life intended for me; the salt and sea are in my blood, and my place is the helm of a ship, not the hearth of a home. As a child I trailed after my elder brothers seeking to learn what made them so special that they might be afforded this lot in life that I was going to be denied. Donnel hardly seemed worthy of a loyal crew, despite his steadfast faith. It was Rodrik whom I aspired to be like, though I never said as much in his presence. He was, after all, barely entering manhood when I first left for Ten Towers to foster, and I was only ten. Still coming into my own when I arrived at Harlaw, my cousin Kristoff became as much a brother to me as those who shared my blood, and it was he whom I grew closest with. Eiya and Aaric, however, I despised. Aaeric is soft, like my youngest brother, though lacking Theon's potential to learn how to be a good captain and leader one day. And Eiya? How any ironborn, man or woman, could wish so strongly to leave the isles is beyond me. I respect my uncle as I do any of my kin, but his trueborn children are too soft; it is Kristoff who is his rightful heir.

<Br><Br>It had been my uncle Victarion who first taught me to sail, but my uncle Rodrik, my mother’s brother, who taught me to be one with the sea. A good captain earns the respect of his crew, but a great one knows humility and how to keep a level-head, for the Drowned God claims even the most capable of sailors. Still, it is not an easy task to earn respect of one’s crew, particularly as a woman. Had I been born with a cock between my legs my name and skill alone might have been enough to sate any rowdy crew. Fate sought to test me, however, a challenge I was more than willing to accept.
<br><Br>
On the occasion of my first raid as Captain of the Black Wind the opportunity to establish my dominance presented itself. I sailed my crew from Ten Towers, where I’d been fostering with my uncle Rodrik for some six or seven years, along the coast of Seagard. They were a rowdy bunch, and not particularly keen to take orders barked at them from a woman, despite familiarity with my skill. Seagard always was an easy target, though their lot are a particularly spiteful bunch, having been raided often over the years. Some of the crew went after riches, others sought salts to warm their beds at sea. I personally cared little about the gold - not this time. This raid was about gaining something more than a bit of coin.
<br><br>
Long, chestnut hair caught my eye, as did the curves attached. She was running, not from anyone in particular but rather away from the dangers any one of my crew might have presented. Heading her off, I rounded a corner to get there first, the element of surprise allowing me to knock her unconscious with the handle of my axe. Another might have been able to take her kicking and screaming all the way back to the ship, and perhaps that might have been satisfying in a way. But I was no fool - she had more than a few pounds on me, though I had her in height and my slender frame always had masked my strength. Still, losing grip on her as she squirmed was not an embarrassment I was willing to risk.
<br><Br>
She was beginning to come to again as I tied her up back at the ship, a few of my crew gathering around in what appeared to be amusement. I’m not the gambling sort, but I’d bet every gold dragon in my purse that they did not expect their new captain to bring back a woman as part of her spoils. ”A woman?” she scoffed, taking in her surroundings. There was mockery in her voice, and the laugh she gave made my blood run cold. ”Least I know me maidenhood is safe, eh?” The last of her words were hardly out of her mouth before the back of my hand smacked her across the face, causing her to cry out.
<br><Br>
Fingers raking through her hair, I yanked her head to the side. ”That’s Captain, to you,” I spat in her face, ”And if you don’t think I can fuck you just as well as any man in this crew you’re in for a bit of a shock.” My own laugh was cruel, unrecognizable even to myself. Taking a step back I ordered the crew undress her, arms crossed over my chest as I was, a sly grin on my lips. My men looked confused, intrigued even, and obeyed if only to see what would happen next. I may not have been born with a cock, but for the right amount of coin one could be procured - made of leather, with a sort of holster that allowed it to be worn and used as any man might use his own. There are few things in life I’d willingly pay the gold price for, but this was one of them. Typically I left it locked away in my quarters until I had need of it, but this had very much been planned, so I’d worn it raiding. The leather straps weren’t overly comfortable, but it was worth it to be able to drop my breeches then and there on deck. Bending my prize over the rail of the ship I thrust into her from behind, yanking her head back by her hair anytime she cried out.
<br><Br>
A man might have finished with her sooner, overly excited by his spoils and spilling his seed too quickly. Another perk of a leather cock is that it keeps going until you decide you’re done. I fucked the mainland wench until there was no fight left in her, then tossed her to the ground before my crew. ”I’ve no use for an insolent salt. Take your pleasure with her then get rid of her.” She’d served her purpose, now I was done. Heading below deck to the captain’s quarters I locked the door behind me before retching into a bucket beside my desk that usually served as a privy. It was the last time I’d ever take a woman against her will. It had needed to be done this time, but as a general rule I preferred my women begging me not to stop rather than begging me to let them go.
<br><Br>
Truth be told I never was much of one for the Old Ways. The Kraken’s Daughter - some joke, huh? I would see our house returned to glory, the shame of my father’s imprisonment gone, but I could never advocate for a way of life that did not include raiding and raping. It is difficult enough to make my way in the world as a woman, but to do so and push for something new? My crew would eat me alive, and then where would I be? Perhaps that was why I found myself amenable to my brother Rodrik’s plans. The promise of being named Lord Captain of the Iron Fleet didn’t hurt matters much either. Our uncle’s influence is strong in both of us - Rodrik the Reader, teaching us there might be another way of life, something to learn from the stories of old. This man I am told is my father only strives for more of the same, but what did that get him before besides a cushy cell in the Red Keep? It is time House Greyjoy charted a new course, but I fear we cannot do so with Balon at the helm.

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