Asha sails to her uncle Rodrick Harlaw’s castle, the Ten Towers.
Asha: Oh, here we are. At my uncle’s tower. He’s probably up hiding in his Book Tower and reading books instead of being an awesome warrior like people in the Iron Isles are supposed to be.
Asha’s Yes Man: Yeah, probably.
Asha: I don’t see a lot of ships here. I though I sent out a message telling all the ships to come here and meet with me as I proclaimed myself as the new Queen of the Iron Isles.
Yes Man: Well, you did send out the message. Doesn’t look like too many people came though. I mean a few. Look, there is Lord Botley’s ship.
Asha: Ugh. Weirdo Tristifer Botley. Yikes, that is going to be an awkward meeting that reminds me of my youth.
Yes Man: And your mother is also at this castle.
Asha: Yep. Crying and grieving for all her dead sons and husband. Whatever. I guess now is not a good time to go and tell her that I just got news that Theon has probably been murdered too.
Yes Man: No, probably not.
Asha: Ugh. Whatever. Okay, well anyway… I have a bunch of prisoners and captives from my time in Westeros. I’ve got Lady Glover and her children as hostages. Better make sure they’re safe and don’t die. Dead prisoners aren’t very effective bargaining chips.
Yes Man: True, and I will obey you. Since I am your yes man.
And thus Asha then goes up to the Book Tower to meet her uncle.
Asha: AH! There you are, you big fucking nerd. Reading books just as I expected.
Rodrick: Yep. Hi niece.
Asha: So my dad. Was he murdered?
Rodrick: Meh. Probably. Yo momma thinks so.
Asha: Surely the timing of the Crow’s Eye is suspicious. Euron has been gone forever. Then when he shows up my dad dies. Crazy, right?
Rodrick: Come on Asha, why are you bothering me? This is a really good book I’m in the middle of. What do you want?
Asha: I want to know why there aren’t a bunch of ships here to support me as the new ruler! Only about twenty ships showed up! I mean… where the hell are the people I thought would be here for me? Like Baelor Blacktyde! Surely Baelor would be here for me!
Rodrick: Oh yeah. Baelor went off to Old Wyk.
Asha: Old Wyk? Why the hell would he go to Old Wyk.
Rodrick: OH SNAP! You didn’t hear? Really? Your Uncle Aeron has called a Kingsmoot.
Asha: DA FUQ?!
Rodrick: Yeah, I thought you would have heard by now since it was mentioned almost an entire book ago now.
Asha: And Euron and Victarion are on board with this crazy Kingsmoot idea?
Rodrick: *shrug* I guess.
Asha: Hrm. I guess better a Kingsmoot between us than a war.
Rodrick: Well, actually… the two might be the same thing. I was just reading a book about the last Kingsmoot, which happened thousands of years ago. When one of the losers didn’t like the result… well… long story short, the isles were littered with dead bodies. Anyway, you shouldn’t go. The whole thing is a terrible idea.
Asha: I shouldn’t go? Well then how the hell am I going to wind up being the new ruler?
Rodrick: Look neice, I love you, but that’s a bad idea. Really, what you should so is just make some alliance with the Lannisters and help them win the Iron Throne. Then the Lannisters will probably grant us a bunch of new lands that we took away from the North as a reward for our loyalty.
Asha: Pffft. Look, I’m not saying it’s not a good idea… but it’s something I’ll think about doing AFTER I’m sitting on the Seastone Chair.
Rodrick: Hey now, niece. You get an “A” for ambition, but it’s just not going to happen. The world is a terrible, sexist place and they’re not going to choose a woman.
Asha: But I have the best claim!
Rodrick: And there is a pretty little Targaryen girl over in Essos that has the best claim to the Iron Throne here, but you don’t see her ass in Kings Landing, do you? Life ain’t fair. So anyway… your mom is doing better. You should go and see her.
Asha: Maybe later. Does she know about Theon yet?
Rodrick: No. Are you 100% sure that he’s dead?
Asha: No. But Winterfell was just a pile of dead, mutilated bodies. Yep. A bunch of carrion. With birds flying around them. Black birds that could eat them. If there was only some good, descriptive way to phrase that.
Pee-Wee Herman and crew stand just off-camera, but since Asha never says the words, they stay there.
Asha: Anyway, there was no way to ID Theon. I mean DNA research hasn’t been invented yet.
Rodrick: Well, I implore you again not to go to Old Wyck. It is folly. Why don’t I just name you my heir to this castle? Shouldn’t that be good enough?
Asha: I am a Kraken of House Greyjoy! I will sit in the Seastone Chair!
Rodrick: Ugh. You know what you are? You’re just another crow, screaming for carrion! One might even call that dead bodies you speak of, “A Feast for Cr— ”
Asha: --No! STOP! NO! DON’T SAY IT! If you say the title of the book, then Pee-Wee Herman, Chairry, that stupid Pterodactyl thing and all those others will jump out and start screaming about the secret word or whatever. I do not have time for that. It LITERALLY JUST HAPPENED IN THE LAST CHAPTER! PLEASE, NOT TWO IN A ROW!
Asha leaves before that happens and goes to the courtyard and OF COURSE runs into Tristifer Botley because OF COURSE SHE DOES. The only reason this character was even mentioned earlier was as a Chekov’s Gun.
Asha: Ugh. Oh, hi Tris.
Tris: Oh! ASHA! *eyeballs are replaced by hearts*
Asha: Yikes. Well, I’ve seen you’ve grown up.
Tris: Yes, you have too… even more beautiful than before!
Asha: Uhh….
Tris: I’m so sorry about your father. Surely your uncle killed him!
Asha: Yeah, probably.
Tris: Also I’m sorry about how it must have hurt.
Asha: Huh? Hurt? What must have hurt?
Tris: When you fell from heaven!
Asha: Oh gawd, I just thew up in my mouth a little.
Tris: And uncle Euron has also been bribing other people to be on his side. He’s given away half of my lands to other Lords as bribes.
Asha: Well, when I am given the Seastone Chair, I will ensure that your lands are rightfully restored. You’ll be there to support me at the Kingsmoot, right?
Tris: You're going to the Kingsmoot? Oh no, that’s a bad idea. You shouldn’t try to be ruler of the Iron Isles. You should become my wife. Let’s get married and have tons and tons of children.
Asha: OMG Tris. Look. When we were little kids we boned each other, okay? Was there a time I thought I loved you? Yeah. But there was also a time that I played with My Little Pony. And grown ass people don’t play with My Little Pony any more.
Tris: Some do. Especially adult makes approaching or just passed their 40s.
Asha: Yes, I do not understand that at all and it is quite worrysome. But my point is this… I am not a little girl anymore, fumbling to tear our clothes off and figure out how to do the nasty. I’ve moved on and so should you.
Tris: So should I? What do you mean! I’ve been waiting my whole life for you! I’ve saved myself for you and touched no other woman!
Asha: HAHAHAHA… what? Like… like REALLY?
Tris: Y-yes. Of course! Surely you’ve been saving yourself for me too!
Asha: Oh you’re serious? LET ME LAUGH EVEN HARDER! HAHAHAHAHAHA, oh wow… Tris, Tris, Tris. I have not saved myself for you. I cannot COUNT the number of men I’ve slept with. And that’s just the men. Women is a whole other story.
Tris: W-w-what?! NO! It can’t be true! You’re mine!
He grabs her to hold onto her and that WAS NOT A GOOD IDEA. She immediately spins him around and sticks a blade up to his neck.
Asha: DO. NOT. TOUCH. Unless I ask for you to touch me. #feminism #metoo. You wanna have a woman? Fine. Have a woman tonight. I’ll send you one. There is this girl I know who even looks a little bit like me. Wrong hair though. You can put a wig on her and pretend she’s me. Work out all that repressed sexual tension. But you know what you’re not getting? Me. I am not your woman. I AM YOUR QUEEN.
She drops the mic. Even though she wasn’t holding a mic and microphones aren’t even a thing that have been invented yet.
She releases the knife from his neck and a drop of blood slowly runs down it. It’s a very visually artistic way to end a chapter visually. You know, I guess. It’s a book so you have to imagine how artsy it is. Black and white? Sure. Maybe saturation and a close-up. Whatever.
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