OLD RP - The Iron Islands

[Hypnos]

 

[TheFordee20]

Murrough Greyjoy

They ate in an almost eerie silence. A crackling fire covered them from the sound of thunderous rain outside. I hope my kin are enjoying their stay in King’s Landing, where it rarely storms whatsoever. Murrough stabbed a slice of dried mutton with his fork and forced it in his mouth. It was, mayhaps, the worst mutton he had ever tasted. And there had been many a plate of mutton in his lifetime. Murrough sat at the top of the table, next to the seat in which his brother would usually sit. Joanna sat across from him, along with Oran. At the other end of the table sat Ruarc and Theon. Joanna casually chatted to Oran, but besides that- no one else in the dining hall spoke.
Oran’s eyes grew wide as a thunder boomed from outside.
“It’s okay.” Joanna spoke softly to him.
Murrough chewed on the mutton and managed to swallow it. “Are you afraid, boy?” He asked his son, who was still nothing more than a child.
“No, father. I am not afraid.” Oran said, smiling nervously.

Murrough smiled back.

I am afraid. There hadn’t been a storm this bad since that night, many years ago. The night in which Vickon decided that their youngest brother would be put on a ship and never came back. The storm of that night and the storm of this night were strikingly similar. Murrough was frightened by that.
He sipped his ale. Murrough’s eyes met with Theon who was pouring himself another cup. Is that his eighth or ninth?
“You are drinking our island dry, Nephew.” Murrough said, stoically
“As is his right. He is our lord’s son after all.” Ruarc said.
“It was a jest, my son.” Murrough replied.
“Not a very good one.”
Murrough looked at his son. “Watch your tongue.”
Ruarc in turn rolled his eyes. “Or what, you will cut it out?”
“Ruarc-” Joanna began,
“No. I am sick of it. Your awful japes, the leaking roofs- this dry mutton that we have been eating night after night.” Ruarc stood up, “I should be in King’s Landing with my uncle. Not here in Pyke with the old bastard he left in charge.”
Ruarc stormed off from the room. A loud clash of thunder was his applause. Murrough sighed and pushed his cup of ale away. I’ve had enough of that. “I better go and have a word with him.” Murrough himself stood up.
“Joanna, do you mind taking Oran for the night?”
She nodded. “We shall play some cyvasse, yes?”
Oran smiled brightly at the sound of that.
“Also, make sure your brother doesn’t drink too much more.” Murrough whispered to Joanna. She nodded once more. He soon left the room, hoping he wouldn’t have to eat another plate of that mutton in there again.

The Main Hall was dark, and dreary. Ruarc was right. Rainwater dripped through some of the cracks in the stone ceilings. The castle was not like it used to be. But, it was their castle still. Their home. My home.
Murrough loved his family. Family was all there was in this world for him. Ruarc, as of late, was a mess of moods. Oran was an innocent boy, yet to be scarred by life itself. Murrough wanted to protect them for as long as he could. Both boys were all he had left of his darling Ena. Who he missed with every breath he took.
I have to talk to Ruarc and help him calm down. He needs to learn to not be so impulsive and to control what he is feeling. If he doesn’t, it may get him into trouble. Murrough thought about what he said a little more. He called me a bastard...
It wasn’t much of a secret to Murrough that Ruarc loved his Uncle Vickon more than he did his own father. Ruarc was a promising warrior, and he always spent time with Vickon and Dalton. So when he was asked to stay in Pyke, he was quite upset.
Maybe I should of told Vickon to bring him al-
The doors of the main hall flew open. Wind and rain entered. Along with a hooded man. Murrough swallowed. He had a gut feeling something had happened. Or was about to, at least.
The hooded man ran up the hall shouting:
“Murrough!”
He took his hood down, revealing himself to be Loron Greyjoy.
“What is it, cousin?” Murrough asked. They were more distant relatives than cousins. Loron stopped to take a breath. “A ship has sailed into Lordsport,” He panted, “A ship called…”
Murrough knew.
“Envy’s Amulet.” Murrough spoke.
Loron stopped and looked up at him, before nodding slightly.
The same ship that carried his brother, Conn, away all those years ago. He was so young. Vickon saw him as a threat. But Murrough always struggled to see the green boy as one. He was just a boy. Murrough let out a sigh.
“There’s more- five portsmen are dead.” Loron told, “And a horse as well.” Murrough sat on a step that lead to an upper level of the hall. “Do you really think it is him? Is he back?” Loron asked. Murrough didn’t know the answer to that question. But he had a gut instinct that he was. Murrough stood up and put his hand on Loron’s shoulder.
“Go to Maester Bevan; tell him to send a raven to King’s Landing. To Vickon.” Murrough commanded. “Telling him what?” Loron asked.

“Telling him that his brother is back.” Murrough stated. “Conn is back.”

@Lancelot ​