Chapter Text
He didn't expect that this would be part of his life now. Not once.
All the years bedding any woman he had wanted in sight, he never expected to actually be a father. He knew that he likely had a bastard or two, but no one had brought one to him til now.
He had told the girl that it would be a boon if she swelled with his child; as he was the proud son of a lord who then proclaimed himself a king. That foolish boy knew little then; a foolish boy who had thought with a part he had no longer thought with.
He could not stand straight as he could before, but he stood as tall and proud as he could. The salty sea wind had gently brushed his hair as he held the boy with Jeyne by his side. She did not seem to mind him; that he had got a woman with child. But she was quick to tell him that she was not the same foolhardy girl from before. And that even if she wanted to bare a child from them both, that she couldn't. The Bastard had left enough of a mark on them both.
Jeyne still bore the scars on her body from where the Bastard had done his work on her, and he still bore a streak of white on his hair. While he could stand and walk better, he still needed the use of a cane. And he couldn't fight as well as before; which had been his pride and joy at one time. Yet, he found more joy in being a husband and a father.
When he had first heard of his son, it had been through a young maester who was Jon's close friend named Samwell. He had barely expected to survive but he had not expected that he would be a father and that the Myraham captain's daughter would be brought back to him. She was a little less plump then before, yet she had welcomed him back into her arms in spite of what had happened. And she had still wanted to be his salt-wife. He didn't know what to say or to think, but Asha had told him to accept the offer.
Given his state, he could not sire a child on a woman properly. The Greyjoy line was in danger with Crow's Eye, Damphair and Victarion gone. Even more distant relations like their drunkard cousin Dagon were gone as well. He, Asha and a cousin Quenton were the remnants of the Greyjoy line. And Quenton had found himself besotted with a girl from House Bracken, and Asha was allowed to name her own son with Qarl the Maid her successor.
It still boggled his mind that that woman wanted him and that he was a father. Yet, he had accepted it with all the grace and civility he could muster. Grisilla, that's what her name was, had mentioned that it was hard to take care of him at times. How he was a shrieking bundle of joy. Asha had once said that about him. When he looked at the boy, it was easy to see that he was a Greyjoy; with a giant mop of black hair that nearly covered his eyes and eye as dark as the night sky. She said she called him Walton, and he felt himself cringe at the name since it reminded him of the Frey's dastardly deed, but accepted it all the same.
Nuncle Rodrik said that little Walton had reminded him of his older brothers; rowdy and rambunctious. His lady mother had oft mentioned how he reminded her of himself at that age: spry and jumping off the walls. Jeyne had mentioned that Walton would have little ladies around him once he starts to grow. Hopefully, Walton would become a better man than he would. More often than not, he had been able to comfort his son when he began to wail.
Seeing his son grow before his eyes made him feel more stronger and more of a man than any fight or woman could have. And at times, it filled him with dread as he thought he could be like him; like the Theon Greyjoy from before. But Jeyne was often there to remind him that Walton will be a good man, and that that Theon was no longer there. Walton grew accustomed to his cousins; Rodrik and Galon. All of them screaming the names they would take once they would be knights: Ser Walton Whitewater, Ser Galon the Kraken Knight and Ser Rodrik the Red Storm. Asha had not taken well to motherhood but she had help from him and Jeyne.
Watching all of them becoming bright and beaming boys in front of him had made him feel like the hobbling mess he once was. But different from before, just knowing that they would be better men than them all. Grisilla had passed away quietly from a chill that taken her well into the night. He had held his son by his shoulder tightly as they sent her off to the Drowned God; promising him that he would not leave his side until he was a grown man with a wife and a babe of his own.
Soon enough, he and Jeyne would be having their own children soon. It was strange to have his own wife swelling with child in front of him. When he had touched her belly and felt the babes kick, he had felt his heart skip a beat. When his son and his daughter came into the world, he had never felt so proud. Gwyneth and Brandon will be greater than him and any other Greyjoy. He'll make sure of that. And he'll live as long as he can to make sure that they become great. For they will have the want of a father's love.