I'm Theon Greyjoy

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***

-Are you sure you want to do this? - Theon asked Robb, walking beside him.

The red-haired king's head was framed by a crown, an open hoop decorated with the Runes of the First Men and nine sword-shaped metal spikes. The crown had been forged by Riverrun's blacksmith, and Stark had personally supervised its creation, so that his attribute of power would resemble that once worn by the Winter Kings.

- Beyond a shadow of a doubt. Tywin Lannister must realise who he's dealing with. - Stark said firmly, pausing for a moment to look at Theon. - 'I have already assembled the lords in the courtyard.

Robb continued tapping his boots on the wooden flooring of the castle gallery. Theon followed him, glancing at the King of the North's squire, Elmar Frey, who was walking behind him.

Like all Freys, he looked something like a ferret. Elmar Frey had arrived a few days ago and had immediately begun to hover around the King of the North as his personal squire. Greyjoy had seen this boy of eleven proudly strutting among his kin, boasting of his position.

A little further on came two footmen in grey cloaks and with wolf crests.

They passed the gallery, and came out into the courtyard of Riverrun, where almost all the lords of the North and Trident who were in the castle were assembled. They stood in a circle, and in the centre was a log with a semi-circular depression in it...

Jaime Lannister was also standing next to the log with his hands tied. Instead of his golden armour, he was now wearing a coarse grey shirt and breeches that were so dirty you couldn't even tell the colour of the trousers.

The Kingslayer's shoulder was bandaged - the Riverrun Maester, Wyman, had taken care of the wound.

- King of the North. - The Kingslayer threw Robb a sneer. - And a crown to match. As tasteless and shitty as your whole North.

There was a grumbling in the crowd, many of them unhappy with Lannister's words.

-Shut your filthy mouth, you lion bastard!

-Kingslayer!

- Damn you, you swear-breaker!

But Jaime Lannister smiled at the insults, finding it amusing to provoke a crowd of armed lords with his hands bound.

-Smiling, Lannister? - Robb glared at him. The dark circles under his eyes had become more 'light,' but they still made Stark's eyes look grim. - Luck has turned away from you today. Your father will like my gift very much.

The captive glanced at the half-sized, square log with the recess and grinned:

-Have you decided to chop off my head, Lord Stark? - He dropped the title of king, but Robb didn't react. - Have your sisters' lives become so insignificant to you?

- I will not take your life today. - The King of the North ordered the lancers standing behind Ser Jaime to untie his hands and move closer to the scaffold. Robb drew his blade from its sheath.

- Your father needs you alive, but no one said I'd bring you back in one piece! - Lannister was quickly pushed forward and bent over. One of the Stark guardsmen forcefully pulled one of the captive's arms out on the log.

A quick swing of his sword and the hand separated from the main body. Blood splattered against the wood.

The now one-armed Jaime Lannister stared at his severed hand in disbelief and cried out in pain.

He was led away to cauterise the wound with an iron stick prepared in advance and heated in the forge. A maester standing nearby, wrinkling his face at Lannister's loud shouts, began to work on the stump that used to be his arm.

Laughs erupted, some openly smiling. Even many of the river lords, who remembered how their estates and lands had been looted, looked on approvingly.

- I will send Old Lion the hand of his eldest son as a warning. - The King of the North said loudly, looking at the crowd of nobles. - Along with the letter.

-King of the North! Grim Wolf!' Amber shouted, and many others began to shout along with him.

-"King of the North! Grim Wolf!

-King of the North! King of the North!

-Dark Wolf!

'Is Robb really not afraid that the Lannisters will have their revenge?' Theon thought to himself. He noticed Elmar Frey staring fearfully at the severed hand. The young boy had not yet seen the real cruelty of this world, and this was a first for him.

Shaking his hand lightly off behind the shoulder of Frey standing next to him and receiving a frightened look in return, Greyjoy said soothingly to the squire:

-Just don't look over there. Look at the king.

Frey shifted his gaze to Robb, who stood stone-still, unmoving. He glanced back and forth at the Lannister's lulling hand, no longer shouting, and then at the lords who were raving.

With both hands he leaned on the hilt of his sword, on which drops of blood were dripping to the ground.

'It's getting harder and harder for me to understand you. Teen Wolf has turned into a fierce beast.'

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

Upon learning that Tywin Lannister had encamped with his army at Harrenhal, Edmar Tully tried to persuade his crowned nephew to let the river lords go to their lands for protection from raiding lion bands and bandits.

Stark strongly disliked this - he didn't want to weaken his army. He tried to persuade him otherwise, reminding him of Lord Riverrun's mistake in dividing his army. Very much in vain, his uncle by the looks of it clearly took offence at the reminder of the fatal folly that had led to the Riverrun Army's defeat.

Still, Robb had to let some of the River Lords go, mostly from the west of the Trident. The army is significantly weakened in numbers by a couple of thousand.

- Tywin Lannister sits at Harrenhal - Stark moved the lion figure to a point near the Eye of God. - A new army is gathering in the Westlands. - Another lion figure moves to the West.

- Shit. - stated Brinden Tully.

- The lions aren't doing so well either. - Gargled Lord Karstark, stroking his long beard. - Renly in the south, Stannis in the east. And all of them will want to take King's Landing.

They gathered in Lord Edmar's chambers - Robb stood over a map of Westeros spread out on a small table, with the Blackfish and Edmar Tully standing beside him, along with Theon Greyjoy.

Opposite were Lord Karstark, Amber, and Ser Wendell.

The rest of the influential vassals were either away from Riverrun or Robb, for whatever reason, had not invited them to the council of war.

- Lord Bolton took the Ruby Broad. - Finally, the figure of a wolf appears on the map. - If the Lannisters move in any direction, they'll have to deal with Lord Ruse's army at once.

- What are we to do? - Edmure Tully asked. - Should we lay siege to Harrenhal and lock the Old Lion in the damn castle?

- Harrenhal is too huge. - Ser Wendell said. - It would be hard to siege it, even with our army....

- And with an army gathering in the West. - Greyjoy spoke up. - We could be stabbed in the back during the siege.

- And we're going to get our arses fucked by lions? That's a brilliant idea, Edmure. - Brinden Tully grumbled. - But really... what are we going to do? - he stared at Robb, who was leaning even lower over the map now, his face furrowed in thought.

- We do what is least expected of us. - Robb pulled out another wolf figure and set it on Riverrun. - We will strike at the West!

The figure, guided by his hand, moved closer to the Western Kingdom.

- My king. - Amber began loudly. - But how will we get across these cursed mountains? The Golden Tooth is a tough whore to spread her legs so easily....

There were chuckles, but Stark, without any mirth in his voice replied.

- 'Perhaps there is a hidden path. We will stealthily head closer to the Western Lands, where scouts can survey the local mountains.

Everyone took this answer for granted.

- As soon as news from the West reached the Old Lion, he would immediately rush there to save his reputation. - Robb grinned. - And that will be his fatal mistake. Lord Bolton will let him pass, and then he'll press him from behind. And then we'll strike.

- Not a bad plan. - Blackfish looked at the others. They all nodded.

- Then we'll start marching west as soon as the wedding takes place.

At the mention of the wedding, both Tullys simultaneously grimaced. The fact that the Grim Wolf would be marrying one of the Freys in Riverrun didn't make them very happy.

Robb's fiancée, Roslin Frey, would be arriving at Riverrun in a couple of weeks. Stark decided to hurry up and confirm the deal between him and Lord Walder.

-I think we can call it a day for now. - Stark concluded, looking round the room. - My Lords.

The men slowly began to leave the room, leaving the Grim Wolf alone in thought. He leaned over the map and occasionally wrinkled his forehead. It was already nightfall, but Stark had a feeling he would not be able to sleep tonight.

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

Riverrun was preparing for the wedding. Despite the short siege and the hardships of war, Edmar Tully had ordered servants to pull everything they had from the cellars.

Robb decided to marry in both the sept and the boghorn, which won the approval of both sides, the northern lords and the river lords. But he had to wait for the bride to arrive from the Twins under a large escort of relatives and guards.

-"I want Jon to be my heir. - Robb told Greyjoy one day as they played another game of Westerosi kaiwassa.

- Jon took vows to the Night's Watch. So how are you going to make him heir? - It's not that it's impossible to pull Snow out of the ancient order. But the Watch won't let him go so easily, not even at the request of the King of the North.

- One hundred new recruits instead of one. What's not a good deal for them? - Robb made a new move, shifting his figure on the playing field.

- He'll be released from his vows and returned to Winterfell.

-Lady Catelyn won't be pleased. - Theon remarked.

- Yes. Stark agreed. - But when our house is in great danger, I will have to act against my mother's wishes. Jon will be my heir until my son is old enough.

Greyjoy said nothing, but made a new move. And so they continued, playing in silence, until the game was over.

-You've lost.

Robb frowned unhappily. He didn't like losing, even in kaiwassa. Probably one of the rare character traits that had survived from a time when he hadn't been so moody.

Returning what had been an indifferent expression, he asked:

-Theon, have you forgotten our conversation about the Iron Islands? - rhetorical question.

-No.' As he settled back in the curule chair, Greyjoy looked at his friend, the king, with interest. - So the idea of an alliance is alive?

- Yes. I want to send you home after my wedding. You will ride with Lord Jason to Sigard and cross to Pyke.

- You're not sending me home empty-handed, are you? - Theon asked.

-With a letter and assurances of eternal friendship between the North and the Iron Islands. - He said the last word indifferently, but somehow Theon could hear the irony in it. That was most likely the case.

- Father will appreciate that last one. But I was wondering what you wrote in that letter.

-Your father will like it. - Robb smiled a creepy smile. He hadn't smiled much lately, but every time he did, the slight movement of his raised lips became more predatory... at least, that was the impression Greyjoy got.

- Shall we continue? - Theon offered, but Stark declined.

- That's enough for today. I should see what's going on at the army camp near Riverrun and see if there are any problems. Especially with provisions. - Robb left the curule chair with its leather inserts and went to the courtyard.

Still sitting on the chair Theon sighed.

' There's not much left to be patient about. Really...I don't really know what happened back home while I was away. How do they treat me there now?'

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

Though Lord Hoster is still alive and formally ruling the Riverlands, all the threads of governance have long been in the hands of Edmar Tully, his heir. Edmar Tully's father is in very poor health.

And no doubt, before organising the wedding, Edmar's nephew had made arrangements for the celebration in Riverrun with him in advance. Robb's uncle may have been resentful of him for a while for his wry remark about his foolishness at the start of the war, but he must have forgiven him. Or maybe he just didn't show his resentment overtly.

A couple of weeks after the council of war, Roslyn Frey arrived with a rather large escort. A dozen relatives, almost everyone with their own retinue, and a couple of hundred foot soldiers. The roads are dangerous these days.

The day after Robb's bride arrived, they were married in the sept and the boghorn, in a double wedding ceremony.

Riverrun's sept was much larger than its Winterfell counterpart. It wasn't surprising, after all, the Old Gods are worshipped in the North, and the small sept had been built at the request of Lady Catelyn, Robb's mother.

White marble walls and rounded windows in them. Seven statues of the gods, six of which have a countenance and the seventh, the Unknowable hid his face in a cloak.

There were quite a few people gathered in the sept - lords and knights.

Standing before everyone, a septon in white robes, thundered prayers to the gods and blessed the marriage seven times.

- Are there those among you who are against this marriage? - The septon, a short, pious, thin-looking old man, addressed all those present.

No one spoke against it, and Robb exchanged cloaks with the bride. The cloak with the two towers on a blue background gave way to the cloak with the direwolf running across the field.

- With this kiss, I pledge my love to you and recognise you as my lord and husband

- With this kiss, I pledge my love to you and recognise you as my lady and wife.

Now husband and wife kissed. Robb, dressed rather modestly despite even wearing a crown on his head and Roslyn Frey with her solemn wedding attire and pretty face. Throughout the ceremony she kept throwing shy glances at Robb while Stark kept his face stony.

Septon ended the ceremony by raising a seven-sided crystal.

- Before the faces of gods and men, I solemnly pronounce Robb of House Stark and Roslin of House Frey husband and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul from now and forever, and let him who comes between them be damned.

Immediately afterwards, a ceremony was performed in the godswood as well. Lord Walder Frey, Roslyn's father, was absent due to his old age, so Stevron Frey, his eldest son and heir to the Twins, became the planted father.

The old gods have no priests of their own. They do not require loud prayers and supposed loyalty. The ceremony in the godswood was much quicker than in the sept and the people began the most important part of the wedding. The feast had begun.

The Great Hall of Riverrun was filled with a huge number of people, seated at many long tables. Servants scurried between the tables, and there was a clamour in the hall so loud that it was sometimes ear-splitting.

The strings of bards, hired by Lord Edmar, rang out, and toasts to the glory of the King of the North and his queen were sung. People ate, drank, danced, and laughed. There was a cheerful atmosphere in Riverrun, probably for the first time since the war began.

Theon sat among the northern lords. Next to him sat Darin Hornwood. They'd had a few mugs with him.

- Greyjoy! - laughed Hornwood. Lord Hornwood. His father had died in the Battle of the Green Tooth, and now Darin had succeeded him. - How about a little argument?! Who drinks the most?

- Come on. - Theon grinned, and immediately drank a mug of red wine diluted with spices. Darin followed him.

Mug after mug, and on the eighth, Hornwood looked round the room with cloudy eyes, suddenly staring down at his plate.

- You... lost... eek. - He felt uncertain himself, ready to pass out at any moment. But he tried to hold on.

His vision had become cloudy, he could only see various figures constantly shifting, and even his hearing was a little muffled from the amount of drink he'd had.

A bright multi-coloured bouquet flashed in his periphery and immediately landed nearby.

- Idiot! G-give me Z-grain!

Theon blinked and shook his head. It felt a little better, but only for a brief moment.

- Cicero, back off. - A demanding wave of his hand and the parrot flew away. But he left a present.

Greyjoy was about to touch the wine again, but a hand stopped him.

-Don't. Your pet pooped in your mug. - A woman's voice came from nearby and he looked round.

- Lady...eek...Mormont! - Theon tried to stand up politely, only to fall back into the chair, picked up by the woman's strong arms.

-You've had your fill of the swine, Greyjoy. It's time you changed your Kraken crest to a pig crest.

- It's not a funny joke, My Lady-- eek!

- Of course it's not funny. And you're a drunk. - The Lady of Bear Island stretched out disappointedly and left Greyjoy's company.

Theon sat down more comfortably and glared at the newly arrived Cicero.

- Ah, you naughty boy... eek! - he wagged his finger at his parrot in a cheerful voice. - Shitting in your master's mug is gross disrespect!

- Z-grain! Grain! G-give it to me!

-Eh, you.... - Theon reached out for a loaf of bread lying on a plate nearby. Accidentally hitting Hornwood, who didn't react in any way, Greyjoy broke off a couple of pieces and tossed them to the parrot.

-Eat up, you ogre... where do you get all that stuffed in you? - He felt a little better, but he was still dizzy and desperate to fall asleep on the table.

- It's farewell time! - Edmar Tully exclaimed drunkenly.

-'The king has taken off his crown, the queen her slipper...' the bards sang at once, and the crowd rushed to see Robb and Roslin off.

Theon stayed where he was - he didn't feel too well. Hornwood was proving to be a tough nut to crack, and Robb's look at his own wedding was too grim.

'There's the way he looks in the direction of those groping his queen. He'll hang them all in the morning because he groped where he shouldn't have,' was the thought that Greyjoy found funny, and he grunted with laughter. His body couldn't take it anymore and he passed out, face down in a bowl of barley soup and beef chunks.

- S-pig! M-M-Marine Pig! - And the parrot, emitting a short chirp, flew off somewhere upstairs, leaving its sleeping master alone.