I'm Theon Greyjoy

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***

A slight breeze fluttered Brandon Stark's slightly long, slightly off-the-shoulder red hair. He pulled the reins tighter and rested his face lightly against the warm wolf fur his older brother Robb had given him.

His father, Eddard Stark, had decided it was time for young Brandon to grow up and see the world through more informed eyes. At this point, the Lord of Winterfell decided to take his second son with him to the execution of a captured criminal.

Theon had mentioned that it was a deserter from the Night's Watch who had betrayed his oaths and tried to flee south, beyond the Isthmus, where he was unlikely to be caught.

Brandon, who was mounted on a small pony, looked ahead and saw a trio of young men leading their horses almost in a single line.

The one in the middle, with hair the colour of copper and a handsome, smiling face, was his older brother Robb Stark. He was the first son and heir of the North. Next to him, on his right side, rode Jon Snow, his bastard brother. He had a permanent frown on his face, and his grey eyes always looked with a kind of coldness that was unique to his father.

But Brandon had always had one of the closest relationships with Jon.

Theon Greyjoy, his father's ward, rode in the opposite direction, bow at his back and quiver of arrows. Tall as a pole, he was taller than Robb and Jon. But despite his supposed thinness, Theon was a strong young man - Brandon had seen Greyjoy defeat his brothers in sparring matches.

Next to him flew a bird strange enough for these parts. With many colours on its feathers, it had large, long wings and an equally large and sharp beak. It could also speak, like some of the particularly clever crows that came from the Citadel.

Recently this bird had been given a name by its master - Cicero. Many were perplexed by the name. But Greyjoy did not explain, but simply shrugged his shoulders and replied:

- I wanted it that way. It's a beautiful name.

Brandon didn't like Cicero - he was always verbally abusing little Brandon, sometimes even bringing him to tears... but after Catelyn Stark's mother, Catelyn Stark, née Tully, said something unkind to Theon, the parrot stopped paying attention to him.

But a certain dislike for the bird persisted.

Soon they arrived at the right place - a hilly clearing where the deserter was already waiting for his sentence.

Brandon dismounted from his pony and stood beside Jon and Robb. Eddard Stark, a man with an upturned face and brown hair, accepted a Valyrian sword from Theon, who stood beside him.

A huge, the size of two ordinary swords, the personal Valyrian sword of House Stark, bearing the name Ice. It was almost dark in colour and had many patterns engraved on it.

The deserter was muttering quietly, and the Lord of Winterfell heard it and frowned. He looked rather unkempt, and his clothes had many holes in them. The criminal's face itself was gaunt, with large bags under his eyes. His crazed gaze was constantly darting around, and sometimes Brandon would catch a glimpse of him....

-White walkers, white walkers ...

- Don't look away. - John whispered beside him. - Father will be watching.

- They exist... exist... -a quick swing of the sword and the deserter's head rolled down. Father made a quick and clean cut, not letting the outlaw savour the pain before he died. Brandon didn't turn away or even close his eyes.

Suddenly Cicero, flying somewhere nearby, came down, digging his sharp claws right into his head. He, perched on the severed head, shouted in a cheerful voice.

- W-zh-lived with a st-st-starch and died with a fight. Kha-Kha-Kha-Kha-Kha-Kha-Kha. - and the parrot burst out laughing with a cackling laugh that rang out across the clearing.

-Damned bird. - Snow muttered absent-mindedly nearby.

His father cast a meaningful glance at Theon, and the latter, in remembrance of the Old Gods, the New Gods, and even the Drowned God, kicked the parrot off the severed head. The one made a displeased sound and was forced to fly away, but Brandon heard Cicero repeating:

-"B-White Walkers! B-White Walkers!

'''''''''''''''''''''''''"'

Pulling the reins tighter so that the horse would not be rushed, Theon looked around. There was dense forest all around, and their small column returning from the execution was travelling along a rather rough road. Roads in the North were rarely good at all....

A hissed at Cicero flying nearby that wanted to claw at his shoulder and with his hand he pushed him away. The parrot had grown claws and having it on his shoulder was quite painful for Greyjoy. So he tried to let it sit on his shoulder as little as possible.

Lord Stark rode beside him on his raven horse. He received only a fleeting glance from Eddard. He quickly rode up to his son Brandon and made some sort of conversation with him.

- Hey, Jon,' Robb shouted, 'come on, whoever crosses the river the fastest wins!

Without a word of reply, he galloped off. Snow followed, shouting after him. He did not invite Theon, for the reason that he would simply refuse out of habit, the heir to the North knew that.

Even after many years, Greyjoy still felt insecure on horseback. He wished he could sit on some galleys and smell the forgotten scent of the sea....

Perhaps he would soon remember that flavour; he would just have to wait for the right moment.....

Robb's shout was heard, and Theon snapped out of his musings and looked ahead, but saw nothing but distant shadows.

The convoy increased their speed, eager to find out what had happened - and in a minute they were at the spot where Robb had shouted from.

Theon immediately drew his sword, preparing to defend himself, but the alarm proved false. The she-wolf, its huge white carcass leaning against a tree, was already dead ...

He dismounted and came closer to examine the direwolf. He had never seen one before and was unlikely to see one again...

Lord Stark came closer and pulled the antler from the direwolf's pierced belly.

-A bad omen. - Eddard spoke with tight lips and looked round. The Guardsmen were crowded around him, and Jon and Robb were standing nearby, with Brandon and Theon.

Theon realised why Stark had said that - as he came closer he saw five little cubs lying next to the dead direwolf's belly - direwolves.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''"'

-Why do you think the king is going North, Theon? - Robb asked Theon. He hid his hair under a deep hood, wearing a long black cloak.

They were sitting in a corner, Robb with his back to his guests and Theon and Jon across from him. They were in the Smoking Log Tavern, and for some reason Stark had decided to conceal his identity so as not to attract attention.

- I see why,' Greyjoy said, sipping a strong northern ale. - The Hand died recently. The Hand is dead, long live the new Hand.

-So the king is coming to appoint our father Hand? - Robb asked. - Sounds logical enough. It would be strange if he travelled halfway across Westeros just to see his father.

- King Robert and our father are childhood friends, raised in the same place. - Jon spoke up. - Can we really just visit? - Snow asked, as if hoping for something for himself.

- Don't be absurd. The king would come all this way just to see our father. - His red-haired companion snorted. - You'll see, our father will be Hand. Sansa will probably be all glowing, hoping her father will take her with him.

Snow had grown sad, and Theon guessed the reason for his sadness. Becoming Hand meant that Lord Stark would leave Winterfell, leaving his wife alone with Jon Snow. She clearly doesn't like her husband's bastard, and may do some mischief in the absence of Eddard Stark's stern hand.

They've been meeting in this tavern quite often since the wolves, and Robb has kept his promise to invite Greyjoy to the tavern, hiding in a deep cloak as usual. And of course he tried to get him drunk - but it was Stark, and Theon, who had to carry him out of the tavern. After that incident, the animosity disappeared, replaced by a strange friendship where friends are always trying to beat each other at something.

The innkeeper was always leering at them; he knew who was hiding from prying eyes, and Baelon's son had told him not to worry about who was visiting. It wasn't hard to figure out who Robb was, given the presence of Lord Stark's bastard and Theon Greyjoy, his ward.

But if the stubborn heir to the North has his mind set on something, nothing will convince him otherwise....

- I saw my father send a party to Cailin's Moat to meet the king. - Stark said. - I'd like to see my namesake soon. Father told me about him... the Demon of the Trident,' he finished with a gasp.

King Robert was beloved by the people for his cheerful nature and somewhat good-natured disposition. There were many songs and stories about him. His attraction to women and his love of drink is legendary.

- Robb, Jon, would you like to have a little fun? - Theon asked suddenly, looking at them both with a foxy grin. The brothers looked amongst themselves and asked:

- How's that? - The scowling bastard asked.

-Well, for starters, let's have a drink!

He'd had the idea to do something like this for a long time, and now he didn't care about the future wrath of Lord Stark and his lady wife Catelyn Tully.