"Theon Greyjoy," Ned boomed, his voice carrying through the immense hall.
An oppressive silence had settled into the hall. Ned's authority was projecting on every individual seated in the hall. Call it respect or the deep-seated fright of Ned Stark that had been wired into him since childhood, despite the intense hatred and fury bubbling inside Theon, an instinctive response erupted from his lips.
"Yes, Lord Stark," he replied, his voice a pathetic mixture of a stammer and a painful groan.
"I believe you are very well aware of why you are standing, or rather, sitting before me for this hearing," Ned stated coldly. "I believe you are aware of the crime that you have committed."
Theon did not respond. He only lowered his head, his gaze fixed stubbornly on the stone floor.
"Yesterday," Ned continued. "You committed a series of grave offenses."
"You began by disrespecting General Sylvia who is a distinguished and very important guest of Winterfell," he said. "What you did was not only a vile breach of how a guest should be treated, but a stain you deliberately painted upon the honour of House Stark."
"And as if that were not enough, you committed another act. An act about which I had explicitly warned you never to repeat years ago," Ned boomed. "You insulted the mother of Jon Snow."
Theon, who had been glaring at the ground, snapped his head up to look directly at the Warden of the North. His eyes were bloodshot and his breathing was heavy. He was raging.
Despite his shattered leg, he forced himself to stand on his good foot, leaning heavily on the wooden chair for support.
"Lord Stark," he spat out defensively. "I did what you said, but it was she who initiated it! It was she who insulted my mother and father. She was the one who humiliated my House first!"
"Was I wrong, though?" a soft, calm voice echoed through the tense hall. "Was not everything that I said was the truth? About the thralls and someone being cockless?"
It was Sylvia. Theon clenched his unbroken hand into a trembling fist. His anger flared even further, but he forced himself to remain quiet, his eyes fixed pleadingly on Ned Stark.
"But you did not insult General Sylvia's mother in return, did you?" Ned challenged, his tone unwavering. "You insulted Jon's mother. And it was an offense you had been strictly warned against years ago."
Theon remained silent, his jaw tight. He knew that Ned was right. If he had insulted Sylvia and her own family, perhaps his defense might have held some water. But Jon Snow had not even been present when the confrontation occurred. Truthfully, before Theon himself had brought him up in a blind fit of rage, Jon had not been mentioned in their exchange at all.
Ned turned towards Sylvia.
"General Sylvia," he said. "I expect that, though you are my distinguished guest, you will maintain decorum in my court."
Sylvia did not say anything. She merely smiled in amusement.
"Theon," Ned said, turning his harsh gaze back to the captive. "Do you have anything further to add in your defense?"
Theon, though very unwillingly and with a swarm of venomous and spitting words for Slyvia still biting at his tongue, shook his head in response. He simply collapsed back into his chair, utterly defeated.
"Very well," Ned sighed.
"Theon Greyjoy," he boomed. "For the acts that you have committed, you will be banished forever from Winterfell and sent back to the Iron Islands."
The entire hall was shocked and stunned. Men like Maester Luwin and Rodrik Cassel, who fully understood the political significance and gravity of the decision, stirred uneasily in their seats. They could not believe it. They were looking at Ned with almost a pleading gaze.
Catelyn, too, was stunned. She stared at Ned with unblinking eyes, her breath hitched in her throat. It was far too extreme from anything she had expected.
Even Jon was surprised. He raised his eyebrows slightly. It was a massive decision. He had not expected Ned to go this far, knowing the political ramifications it entailed.
"I know that after the Greyjoy Rebellion, I took the responsibility of keeping Theon Greyjoy as a hostage. It was as a guarantee to prevent House Greyjoy from ever rising in rebellion again. But I never treated him like a hostage. Instead, he was raised as a ward. He was given all the facilities and resources that were available to my son as heir of Winterfell. Yet, he has now crossed certain lines that cannot be ignored any further."
"I know that the Crown might not take this decision well. But I cannot allow any further staining of the honor of House Stark," he declared, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Theon Greyjoy will be sent back to the Iron Islands. It will be up to the Crown to decide whether to send him to another place as a hostage or to let him remain on his islands."
"As a grace and an act of kindness," Ned continued, his tone softening only a fraction. "Theon will be allowed to recover from his injuries here at Winterfell. Once he is sufficiently healed, he will be sent on his journey. But until that day, he will remain in strict captivity in his own chambers."
"Take him away," Ned ordered.
"Yes, Lord Stark," Jory replied, snapping out of his reverie.
He and the other guard hauled Theon Greyjoy up by his shoulders and practically dragged him away.
"The court is dismissed," Ned boomed.
Following his declaration, the attendees began leaving the hall one by one. Most of them were all too eager to discuss the decision Ned had just made and debate what its consequences would be. Jon looked at Ned for a few lingering moments before he, too, left the hall, accompanied by Sylvia and Melisandre.
The vast room emptied shortly. Only Catelyn and Ned remained behind. And as soon as the heavy doors shut behind the last person, she rushed toward her husband.
"Ned," she said, her voice desperate. "What decision have you made? Are you aware of the consequences?"
#
#
#
[Add the book to your collection. Send it some power stones. Leave a rating and a review.]
[Access advanced chapter on P@treon. Replace @ with a. One additional advanced chapter each week on P@treon. ]
[email protected]/imaginarywriter