I'm Theon Greyjoy

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***

They sailed under Stark sails. The North didn't have a full-fledged fleet, but the Starks still had a couple of dozen galleys. They'd split up with an equally small flotilla of Manderlys, who'd sailed with the Boltons and Flint ships from the Widow's Watch.

Theon had studied the coats of arms of all the houses of Westeros well, so he could easily recognise many of the banners. He paid particular attention to the major houses in each region, whether it was the Boltons or the Manderleys in the North or the Roys in the Vale, along with all the Freys and Florents.

Stark stayed away from Theon during his time on the ship - they only exchanged a couple of phrases. He was assigned a separate cabin, where he sat for most of the journey. Food was brought to him by one of Lord Stark's guards.

Occasionally he went outside, only to be met by the sullen silence of the Northerners. He didn't try to strike up a conversation - he took a breath of fresh air, let his pet flap its wings, and went back out.

He also did a lot of thinking. About his future, about what he should do.

All the plans Theon had made had fallen apart. His father's war had failed, ending the independence of the islanders for a long time. Now he was a hostage, and they would never let him go any further than the outskirts of Winterfell.

And even if he could escape, where would he go? Home to the Iron Islands? Chances are the Iron Throne will know where he is and demand he be brought back. If Father refuses, there'll be another war. And the Iron Islands don't stand a chance.

To Essos? It was a possibility. But then we'd have to start all over again. Theon lost all his looted savings. Just left in Pyke. All he has with him is his sword and a couple of sets of clothes, along with his chain mail and helmet. Chances of joining some mercenary band are slim.

Who would take an eleven-year-old boy into a squad, even if he could swing a sword and shoot a bow? He'll stand out a lot, thus revealing his identity.

Maybe it's not worth the trouble, Theon thought. I have no chance of escaping, so should I try to make contact with my guards? The only thing that was certain about Eddard Stark was that he was a man of honour. He wasn't afraid to criticise Tywin Lannister and Robert when Rhaegar Targaryen's children were killed. It was appreciated by many, even the Martells, relatives of those very murdered children, said something approvingly. Well, if you believe the rumours that come to the Iron Islands. Especially from merchants.

This man has balls and he's an honourable man, not some self-serving bastard. Still, it's worth getting in touch with him.

A few weeks into the journey, they rounded Cape Kraken and docked at Barrowton. We were met by the local lady who runs the place. Lady Barbrie Dustin, née Risswell. She greeted us courteously, politely, but coldly.

She was tall and rather slim. And not even wrinkles spoilt her cold beauty.

A feast was held in honour of Lord Stark's arrival, and the army was positioned outside the city.

The feast took place at Barrowhall Castle, which was inside Barrowton itself. Theon sat on a high platform, but on the very edge. He especially did not eat much, and no wine was poured for him. He only fed the parrot sitting next to him and watched the people around him.

Sometimes some northerners, who didn't really know who he was, came up to him, mostly because of the parrot. They asked him what kind of animal he was and where he was from. Theon answered honestly, but reluctantly. Few kept their faces when they found out who they were talking to. Only the local maester kept his face the same, completely interested in the parrot. Attempts to pet it only provoked the parrot's anger:

-Idiot! I'll poke my eye out!

And so passed the feast for him. The next day Lord Stark left Barrowton with the Winterfell Guard. He watched the wooden walls of the ancient city disappear from sight.

He was mounted on a horse - and Theon felt unsure of himself as he sat on it. What to speak of when the horse, shifting its hooves, went forwards? He almost fell off, but he held on.

- First time on a horse? - asked the rhetorical question of Lord Stark, who had been watching all this time. Apparently, the Silent Wolf had decided to make contact first. Theon was not against it, and even in favour.

- Building a ship is easier for me than taming that filly. - Theon replied, nearly falling over once more. - And for you, I suppose, Lord Stark, it's the other way round?

Stark smiled. A good sign, it meant he was favourably disposed towards him.

- I was brought up in the Vale, under the walls of the Eagle's Nest. When I grew from a boy to a young man, I often went on horseback rides. - He looked round at the column of horse behind us. Farther ahead were bands of Stark guardsmen. Already many of the Guardian of the North's vassals had separated from them, heading for their own lands. So the overall army had thinned. But in addition to the wolf banners, he saw a roaring giant tearing a chain, a white sun on a black background, and many other banners with different crests.

There was a man of enormous stature, John Amber, chuckling a little behind him, and beside him rode a lean man with a grey head on his shoulders. Rickard Karstark.

- And what's it like living in the Vale? - Theon continued the conversation politely.

- The Vale is no less a harsh land than the North. - Stark confessed. - Rocky terrain, lots of dangerous wildlife, and the Highlanders won't let anyone live peacefully in the land.

- And you have encountered these Highlanders? - That was interesting. Why not let Lord Stark reminisce about his battlefield past? Talking about the past can sometimes bring people together. And Theon wanted to get to know his captor.

- Yes, he had. - Eddard said thoughtfully. - They fight fiercely, like wild beasts. And if they feel they are losing, they hide in the mountains. It's a good thing the wild Highlanders can't smelt steel, fighting with stone weapons or trophy weapons.

- And the valley lords can't deal with them definitively? Like finding their lairs in the Moon Mountains and slaughtering them all?

Eddard frowned, clearly disapproving of Theon's words. Apparently Lord Stark is not a fan of spilling unnecessary blood.

- The Highlanders know the Moon Mountains like the back of their hand. Finding them there is like looking for a needle in a haystack. The Knights of the Vale have tried it many times and failed miserably.

- I see. - Greyjoy said flatly. Their conversation faded and Stark gave him a few more glances and pulled his horse back a little as Jon Amber came up to speak to him.

So they walked on to Winterfell, first crossing the Kingsroads and then walking straight into the stronghold of the former Winter Kings.

Theon's gaze passed over wide, lightly snow-covered fields and vast forests. The North was vast, Theon realised as soon as he looked at a map of Westeros. But realising it by looking at a map and driving through the vast expanse himself were very different things.

The winter had recently passed, too short, but no less cold because of that. And while southern Westeros had already regained its green meadows instead of snow-covered wastelands, the North was still snowy.

Troops were thinning, vassals were leaving, and when they entered the Starks' personal domain, the army consisted only of detachments of the Starks' personal vassals and their own soldiers.

They were still talking to Lord Stark on various topics. Not much, but it was enough to understand the Master of the North a little. And that made Theon breathe a sigh of relief. The man could be reasoned with. All that was needed was a relationship with Stark.

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

Sometimes Catelyn missed her ancestral home. Summer Riverrun flew through Lady Stark's memories, making her smile nostalgically. The Tully family castle was built at the confluence of two major rivers in the Riverlands and had always been renowned for its impregnability.

Katelyn fondly remembered how she and her younger sister, Lysa, had watched Uncle Brynden fishing while playing with their childhood friend, Petyr. How they walked around the neighbourhood of Riverrun, amusing themselves amongst themselves. How they listened to amusing stories from Hoster Tully and studied together under the supervision of Maester Wyman.

But those times are irrevocably gone. Lysa was now Lady Arryn, wife of Lord Jon Arryn. Petyr, as far as the former Tully knew, was in the Vale, in Gull City, holding some important post.

Catelyn herself was now Lady Stark, mistress of Winterfell. And in her husband's absence, she had to look after the Stark fiefdom.

Life with Eddard Stark was peaceful, warm and cosy. They were able to fall in love, even though they had known each other only a day at the time of their marriage.

She was betrothed to Eddard's older brother, Brandon Stark, whom everyone called the Wild Wolf for his wild and wilful temper. But Brandon died, struck down by the Mad King, and Catelyn's husband became Eddard to cement the alliance between the North and the Riverlands.

With each new year, Brandon's image became more vague. But she still remembered the Wild Wolf and his last words before he left for King's Landing.

Katelyn's reign was still a burden, for she was pregnant. She already had little seven-year-old Robb and five-year-old Sansa. If it's a girl, Catelyn will name her Arya. If it was a boy... the image of Brandon rose in her mind again.

-Milady, Maester Luwin called out to her. The man was the heraldic colour of the Starks - short, grey eyes and a robe of grey wool trimmed at the edges with white fur. - The sentries spotted a large troop carrying our banners. Lord Stark has returned.

Catelyn nodded graciously and, after giving final orders to a couple of maids to prepare a warm bath for her husband, went to the castle courtyard to meet Eddard. She took seven-year-old Robb with her. The Maester went with her.

Many servants gathered in the courtyard, all to meet their lord.

A column of riders, led by her husband, began to pass through the large open gate. An elongated face, brown hair and grey eyes. Eddard's cold gaze warmed at the sight of Catelyn, and he dismounted.

-My husband. Winterfell is yours.

They embraced, and little Robb ran around them, begging for his share of his father's attention. Eddard lifted his eldest son with a smile. With some distaste, the former Tully noted the way her husband's eyes wandered through the crowd, looking for someone.

It was no secret to her who Eddard was looking for and had not found. Jon Snow, her husband's bastard.

Sometimes the Seven were too cruel. And Jon Snow was proof of her thoughts.

That's when she noticed a boy approaching on horseback. Catelyn's heart skipped a beat. Was it really...?

-Katelyn. - Eddard said softly. - It's Theon Greyjoy.

A tall, thin boy with black hair unskilfully dismounted from his horse and bowed briefly, too briefly. A harsh, cold gaze met hers. Next to the boy flew to his shoulder an unusual, multi-coloured bird with a large beak, and quite large in size itself. Katelyn's eyes widened in surprise. And what followed next made her heart twitch a second time.

- H-cold, f-f-fucking-lutely!