After the punishment Ned had bestowed upon Theon, a sense of normalcy had returned to Winterfell. Or so it appeared.
Those who kept their eyes and ears open could easily sense the dangerous undercurrents brewing beneath this placid surface. With the King scheduled to arrive in a couple of weeks, it was entirely possible that the fragile peace could take a rapid downward spiral. No one knew how the king would react to a sudden decision like this. Will he be willing to look at things from the perspective of Ned Stark?
The only source of relief for men like Maester Luwin and Rodrik Cassel was the fact that Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon were lifelong friends, some would even say brothers. They could only hope that the King would not drag the diplomatic matter out any further.
Catelyn, on the other hand, was deeply upset. Ned had punished Theon harshly, and she simply could not let it go. She had tried to argue with him immediately after he announced the verdict, but Ned had refused to entertain her pleas. He maintained that he had made his decision after much careful thought, and there would be no going back. That whatever he had done was the correct thing.
But Catelyn was not looking at the situation from a political perspective. Her thoughts were twisted in only one direction. Toward the unknown woman for whom Ned had stained his honor. The mother of Jon Snow.
Now, with everything that had happened, compounded by the undeniable, meteoric rise of Jon himself, a deep and gnawing insecurity had taken firm root inside her. She could not help but feel that her entire world was on the verge of crumbling.
Naturally, this had caused a severe, unspoken rift in the relationship between the Lord and Lady of Winterfell. Yet, given that both of them were overwhelmed with preparations for the King's impending arrival, neither had the time to truly sit down and confront the fracture growing between them.
Theon was sprawled across the bed in his chambers. Though his hands and legs were not bound, he was very much a captive. He was strictly forbidden from leaving his room. Two armed guards were permanently stationed just outside his heavy door.
The blinding pain of his shattered bones had eased over the past few days. It had settled into a dull and persistent ache. Yet, he still did not know when he would be shipped back to the Iron Islands.
An expression of raw anger, mingled with agony, was plastered across his pale face. He could not fathom how things had spiraled to this point.
He remained deeply dissatisfied, his blood boiling at the memory of his humiliation. He craved revenge. He wanted nothing more than to carve his blade into the heart of that bastard Jon Snow and that bitch Sylvia.
But in the quiet isolation of his captivity, a bitter realization had begun to sink in. It was impossible. Neither he nor his House possessed the capability to strike back at Lord Aeos. In truth, perhaps the entirety of Westeros combined might not be able to touch him.
Theon had never been able to forget the brutal humiliation Jon had handed him years ago, right before the bastard had fled Winterfell. Though Jon had not broken any of his bones back then, the beating had left Theon bedridden for an entire week. That memory had festered inside him like an open wound.
And once the staggering tales of Jon's marvelous feats across the Narrow Sea began to trickle into the North, the rage bubbling inside Theon only intensified. The more success Jon attained, the more his fame grew, the more Theon raged. A feeling of hatred formed inside him. Every whisper of Lord Aeos's glory caused the old humiliation to clench tighter around his heart.
When Jon finally returned to Winterfell with all his pomp, wealth, and grandeur, Theon's fury had reached its absolute peak. The bastard who had cleaned stables and rubbed floors of Winterfell was welcomed into the very same castle with all the protocol reserved for the lord of a great house.
Yet, he was not entirely stupid. He knew the gulf in power between him and Jon was now unimaginably massive.
So, Theon did the only thing he could. He kept his head down and tried to remain invisible. Jon, meanwhile, had not even bothered to acknowledge him. It looked as if the grand Lord Aeos did not even remember who Theon Greyjoy was, and that casual indifference stung Theon even more than a physical attack.
But then, an opportunity for some small measure of revenge had presented itself. He had learned that Jon had left the castle early in the morning for a ride around the outskirts. And he got the opportunity to seek some pleasure for his humiliated heart.
That was when he saw Sylvia practicing in the yard. He had heard the whispers that she was a fine warrior, and he had seen her defeating her own soldiers in spars. But he simply refused to believe it. He was convinced it was all an exaggeration. A mummer's farce meant to build her legend. Watching her duel her own men, Theon certainly did not think her invincible.
And so, he had decided to step into the fire. His plan had been simple. He would insult and humiliate her publicly, force her into a duel, and defeat her in front of the entire yard. It would not be a direct attack on Jon Snow but it would satisfy him.
He was confident that even if things escalated, and things got worse, Ned Stark would let him off with nothing more than a slap on the wrist. He held a special status, after all. He was a political prisoner, a ward, and the rightful heir to the Iron Islands.
But he had never expected things to spiral so wildly. The vicious, precise insults Sylvia had hurled right back at him had shattered his composure, making him lose his mind to a blind, frenzied rage. And now, lying broken and banished in his room, he could only shake his head in deep, agonizing regret.
He was still lost in his thoughts when the door of his room was pushed open. He craned his neck to see who it was. And his eyes widened in a bit of surprise. It was Robb.
"Robb Stark," Theon mumbled, in his raspy voice.
#
#
#
[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