AN: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! I can't properly articulate how much the support means to me. This chapter was kind of tough to write but I'm pleased with where the story took me. Feel free to reach out on Reddit (u/errobotter) if you want to chat about the story the PM function on this site is pretty clunky for extended conversations. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

Jaime Lannister's loyalty was implicitly questioned every time someone referred to him as Kingslayer. Yes, he had taken vows to protect the king but the vow was nullified, in his mind, when the king was practically foaming at the mouth while repeatedly calling for those loyal to him to "Burn them all!" On that day, Jaime's loyalty to the realm outweighed the loyalty to the king. To this point in his life, there was one loyalty that never wavered for Jaime; Jaime had always been loyal to his sister, Cersei.

His loyalty to his sister was so intrinsic to his personality that he hadn't thought twice before pushing the Stark boy out the window after the boy had witnessed their tryst. It was that loyalty that was driving Jaime to ensure that the Stark boy would never be able to speak of what he had witnessed before his fall. Simple-minded men of the realms would never be able to understand the things he did for love but he never sought their understanding. He was perfectly fine with the exquisite brand of understanding that he got from Cersei and would do whatever it took to protect that understanding.

To those ends, he had made his way from Winterfell to the nearby Winter Town. Gone was the resplendent, golden armor that allowed him to stand out even amongst revered members of the Kingsguard, such as Ser Barristan Selmy. In place of his armor, he had donned a nondescript hooded cloak that would allow him to hide the blonde hair that would make him stand out amongst the generally dark haired northerners.

Though Jaime preferred direct action to subterfuge, he would take steps to avoid potentially linking House Lannister to the assassination. He had made the promise that he would find a way to silence the Stark boy forever. Today was the day that he would see that promise fulfilled or at least set things in motion so that the boy's fate would be sealed in the coming days.

It would help us to avoid suspicion if the attack happens after we leave the castle. Jaime considered the logistics for the murder that he was planning. We don't know when the boy will wake and we don't know what he will remember, if he wakes. Since the boy could wake at any time, we will have to take the risk of the attack happening before we set off for King's Landing.

I know that Cersei would prefer to be here so she could offer her sweet condolences to the Stark family while knowing that she was behind the blow struck against a House that would consider itself an equal of House Lannister. Thoughts of Cersei tended to bring a smile to Jaime's face and this one was no different. They will almost certainly reconsider that foolish notion when it is proven that they can't even protect one of the House's sons within their ancestral halls.

Jaime's contemplation continued as he walked through the quaint northern village. After a time, he found himself entering a tavern and taking a seat against the wall about halfway between the door that he used to enter the tavern and the far wall that was partially concealed from view by a fireplace that was currently unlit. If Jaime's fortune held, the spot would provide him opportunity to listen in on the conversations of other patrons while avoiding their notice.

It's a good thing that the services of the Kingsguard are unlikely to be called upon while stationed at Winterfell. Jaime considered as a bar maid made her way over to him and asked what he would be having. He gave her a gold dragon before ordering ale with the instruction to keep them coming. As long as I make it back before sundown, my absence probably won't be noticed or missed by the oafish king.

The taverns in King's Landing are a meeting point for the lowest of the low. I have to imagine I'll be able to find the ideal degenerate in a northern tavern. Jaime kept his head low over his cup while maintaining his vigilance and looking for that single person that was so perfect in their imperfection that they would betray the family that held power over their native land. I suppose that I could check the brothel, if I don't find the man that I'm looking for here. If a man has to pay to obtain pleasures from a woman then he'd likely be willing to take certain risks to get coin for his whores. Mayhap such a man would be willing to take part in a plot to murder a son of House Stark.

People and drinks came and went as Jaime held his position at his table, constantly listening. The conversations that Jaime overheard were mundane, not inflammatory enough to merit Jaime approaching any of them. He was starting to think that his sister was right, that the men of the north would only disappoint, until he inclined his head ever so slightly to listen in on the words being exchanged between two of the most recent patrons of the tavern.

"Ramsey, I was able to convince father to let me take you to Winterfell because you swore a solemn vow that you would not do anything that brought dishonor on House Bolton." The man spoke from a position of power and authority to his companion. "After the Reek situation, our father was more than willing to let you spend your days in the town of your birth without the opportunity to travel to the other places of importance in the north."

Jaime had taken care not to fall into his cups, despite having his drink replaced several times since he arrived at the tavern. His mind was racing as he considered the young lord's words, he was aware of the Lord of the Dreadfort and his heir, Roose and Domeric Bolton, but he had not heard of Ramsey Bolton. A son of a lord that has potentially done something that would bring dishonor on his lordly father? This Ramsey boy, a bastard perhaps, could be exactly the person that I'm looking for to wield the knife that will end the Stark whelp's life.

"Domeric, brother, I hoped that you would realize that situation with Reek reached the only possible conclusion after our friend decided that he wasn't obligated to show the proper respect to a son of House Bolton." Ramsay's voice was sure but Jaime had his doubts about the boy's ability to plan ahead. "Our friend, Reek, was a traitor and I did my duty to the north by teaching him the error of his ways. After his extensive reeducation, I have full confidence that he will never fail in his duties to House Bolton and the north."

"It's a disgrace that you would bring the wretch with us to Winterfell." Domeric declared with a gravitas that Jaime had come to associate with the handful of knights that managed to gain some degree of his respect. "If the Lord of Winterfell looks upon Reek then he will know that the practice of flaying is still happening at the Dreadfort. Father would not be pleased if the Dreadfort was to face sanctions, higher taxes or if he was put on trial since House Bolton was found to be in defiance of the order to stop using flaying as a means of torture and subjugation."

This is perfect. A smile spread across Jaime's face at the thought that House Bolton was already acting against House Stark. It seems that the bastards of the north are far more entertaining than the trueborn northerners. A Bolton bastard that has already knowingly and willingly defied edicts of House Stark seems like exactly the sort of person that would be willing to help me to tie up the loose end that was the Stark whelp. I only have to pick my moment to approach the bastard and find an opportunity to get him away from the heir to the Dreadfort.

"Reek was given to me by father to serve a son of House Bolton," Ramsey countered. "I couldn't very well go to Winterfell while not allowing Reek to do the duty that father ordered. The Lord of Winterfell would never get close enough to the servant of a bastard of House Bolton for it to cause issues for father."

That's just what I was hoping to hear, Jaime thought. The bastard doesn't have the inflated opinion of Ned Stark that most of the northerners seem to have. A bastard from a House that rivaled House Stark when the North was an independent kingdom has motive enough that would quiet any whispers of Lannister involvement. I believe that people of the North are fond of the phrase The North Remembers.

"Hold your tongue, bastard," Domeric hissed while looking around to see if any others had noticed their exchange. Through the shadow that his hood cast over his face, Jaime could see the other man focus on him. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Jaime pointed to the door before standing and removing a gold dragon from his purse and setting it on the table next to his now abandoned drink before walking out the door and making his way to an alleyway near the tavern. He stalled for a moment to ensure that the Boltons would see him going into the alleyway so they could follow him.

After a few moments, the Boltons emerged from the tavern and walked towards him as he made his way into the alleyway. A quick look revealed that there were no windows on the walls of the buildings on either side of the alley. Though they could still be seen by anyone passing by, if they happened to look down the alley, it was still preferable to having the conversation in a more exposed position and it had the benefit of being far enough from the streets that people used to travel through the village that Jaime would be able to see any that wished to get close enough to overhear the conspiracy against a son of House Stark. Jaime wouldn't be surprised if Varys had managed to get his 'little birds' into the North.

Domeric's face was reproachful as his gaze shifted between Jaime and his bastard brother. In short time the Boltons were standing mere paces from Jaime. Domeric was the first to break the silence, "Look friend, I don't know what you think that you heard in the tavern. It's well known that too much ale can muddle a man's thoughts and cause him to think that he's heard words that were never spoken."

Jaime had to grin at the boy's attempt at subtle intimidation. He would be a formidable lord one day, provided he had enough caution and sense to make it to that point. "I think you'll find that my hearing is quite good, my lord. In fact, I think that we can come to an agreement that will prove mutually beneficial to all of us."

The Heir to the Dreadfort chuckled at Jaime's proposition. "Oh, a mutually beneficial agreement, you say? How about this, I give you a few golden dragons and you forget what you think you've heard, forget that you've ever seen us, or I show you exactly why the words of House Bolton are Our Blades Are Sharp. We have no time for your mutually beneficial agreement."

"Tsk, tsk," Jaime admonished with a wave of his hand while turning his attention to Ramsey. "So quick to violence, that one is. I could only imagine if he was to encounter a person who was not scared of how sharp he claimed his blades to be. How about you boy, are your blades sharp too?"

Ramsey's eyes were alight with mischief as a crooked smile spread across his face, "Oh yes, Reek could testify to how sharp my blades are. Alas, father prohibited me from carrying them with me on my travels. The fun I could have with a blade."

"How intriguing," Jaime commented while pulling a sheathed dagger that he had requisitioned from his brother from his cloak and tossing it to the boy who caught it eagerly. "Perhaps you could prove just how sharp your blades are by plunging that dagger into your brother's heart."

Domeric pulled a dagger from his furs and lunged forward to stab Jaime but the experienced knight was able to evade the blow with practiced ease. Domeric's eyes widened as the tip of the dagger that Jaime had thrown to Ramsey emerged from his chest.

By attacking Jaime, Domeric had left his back unprotected against his bastard brother and the bastard took advantage of the opportunity to plant a knife in his exposed back. There were no last words as Domeric slid off the knife and fell to the ground.

"Oh, very good," Ramsey was positively joyous. "This knife is far sharper than my usual toys. With nary a hint of resistance, it slipped right through poor Domeric."

"Indeed," Jaime agreed. "What a shame for poor Domeric. He could have been a great lord. Alas, if you are more reasonable than your late brother then I think this could be the beginning of a wonderful friendship."

Jon ultimately decided to hold on selecting Perks until he was able to reach level 20 for his skills. I get one Perk Point per level. Once I use up the Perk Points that I've acquired so far, it will take a lot more Experience per level to get new Perk Points. Right now, the natural perks that I've acquired hold up pretty well when compared to the Mastery perks that were available for each of the system skills.

Mance's goal will take time to accomplish and there should be plenty to level my skills and get Experience while traveling with the Free Folk. Jon was feeling confident that he helping Mance accomplish his goal would present many opportunities to get Experience. I've no doubt that there'll be plenty of opportunities to improve my sword skills. It may be more difficult to train some of the non-sword skills but maybe I'll be able to train the Free Folk in those skills to grind Experience.

After telling her that he was not looking to settle down right now, Ygritte had initially taken to giving Jon the cold shoulder. However, after a dull morning of traveling in silence, she seemed to revert to her usual boisterous personality and her teasing ways. While Jon was unsure what had prompted the changed attitude, he was also not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Along with Ghost, the pair had been able to cover significantly more distance than Jon would have expected if they were traveling with a larger party and had to worry about setting up and tearing down camp when they stopped for the night and set off for the morning. Food and water had not been a problem, game was plentiful in the Wolfswood and both Jon and Ygritte were experienced enough with a bow to ensure that when they shot at prey they were able to secure a meal.

The pair had stopped for a break, rather than pushing forward at the height of the day's heat and Jon was dozing off while he sat in the shade with his back against the trunk of a tree. As he dozed in his comfortable position, Jon was dreaming of a wonderful scene that featured Arachne, Ygritte and Ysolda dancing before him bereft of their furs before starting towards him in a way that promised many joys for Jon before the scene shifted to a rush of forestry while his senses of sight, smell and hearing increased to an absurd degree.

The situation was not unlike what Jon experienced when he was north of the Wall and had passed out after the encounter with the Cave People. His four limbs worked in unison to propel him through the forest. Despite the presence of the dense tree coverage, Jon was able to locate the sun in the sky to determine the direction that Ghost was running. Though Ghost was unable to speak with him in the standard tongue, his desire to ensure that Jon and Ygritte could move through the forest unmolested was evident to Jon.

If I remember correctly, one of the Speech perks would allow me to communicate with Ghost directly, Jon considered as Ghost continued running through the forest. Ghost does a good job of communicating with his thoughts when we are joined like this and seems to have a better understanding than most animals when we are in our separate skins. I could gain other advantages by being able to communicate with other animals since, no matter how quiet he can be, Ghost is too big and too easily noticed to possibly act as a spy in the future.

Ghost stopped and raised his nose into the air. Jon was able to interpret Ghost's thoughts about the scent that the direwolf had managed to pick up. There's another predator in the area. Ghost doesn't seem to be overly worried but that isn't too much of a surprise, given how he's grown. I can tell that he wants to prove that he won't let me down and that he can be trusted to keep away beasts that would seek to make a meal of me.

With his hackles raised in a silent snarl, Ghost followed the scent through the Wolfswood. What he found was not surprising to Jon, given the name of the forest that they were traveling through. Surrounded by she-wolfs and a few pups, there was a large male with blood dripping from his muzzle, an alpha-male that had clearly seen his share of conflict, based on the scars on his muzzle and his missing eye. Though the alpha was smaller than Ghost, he was undoubtedly larger than the other wolves that had joined his pack and would have made Jon wary if he had encountered him without Ghost.

The reason that the alpha's muzzle was covered in blood quickly became apparent as the pack members fanned out and revealed the body of a stag that had clearly been taken down by the pack. Based on the relative cleanliness of the other wolves, it seemed that Ghost had interrupted the feeding before those that were lower in the pack's hierarchy were able to feed.

The grizzled alpha let loose a rumbling growl when it became aware of Ghost's presence. Standing up to confront the beast that would dare to challenge for feeding on the pack's quarry, the alpha's head came up to Ghost's shoulder. He bared his fangs at the intruder and moved to put his body between the intruder, his pack and the hearty meal that his pack had worked to procure.

Within Ghost's mind, Jon was able sense Ghost's reluctance to attack one of his brethren. It's almost like what I would expect to feel if Robb felt threatened by my presence at Winterfell and he thought, for some reason, that I was there to take what was his. Ghost wants to avoid conflict since we are merely passing through the pack's land but he will do what he needs to assure his own safety. Hopefully the alpha of this pack will recognize that Ghost does not seek to take over his pack and steal his kill. I'm pretty sure that Robb would know that I wouldn't consider doing such a thing but we were raised together. Unfortunately, the alpha of this pack doesn't know Ghost the way that Robb knows me.

As the moments passed by with no overtly hostile actions, it seemed that the alpha would be content with Ghost leaving. However, when Ghost turned to leave, the old wolf launched its attack. The smaller wolf surged forward with a bite aimed at Ghost's hindquarters. Though Ghost was able to jump forward to reduce the surface area available to take the attack, Jon was able to perceive Ghost's irritation and pain when the wolf's teeth were able to slice through Ghost's hide.

The injury would likely be sufficient to send a lesser wolf scampering but Ghost was not a lesser wolf. Turning on a golden dragon, Ghost spun and raised a paw that he used to club the other wolf's head. The blow landed true and the wolf appeared to be staggered momentarily before regaining its senses and baring its teeth toward Ghost who replied in turn.

After lowering the front of its body over its paws, the alpha launched towards Ghost with the intention of capturing the direwolf's neck. Ghost jumped back and avoided the alpha's lunge before rearing back on his hind legs, raising his paws and slamming them into his adversary's chest.

The wolf backed away as quickly as it could but its motions, once it re-centered itself, indicated that it was not in the best shape after the blunt impact to its chest. Ghost growled and Jon was able to interpret the warning that it was giving to its less wild brother.

Unfortunately, despite coming out worse for each of the previous exchanges, the alpha was unwilling to let the direwolf retreat. The older wolf paced around Ghost with his head bobbing up and down, before he lashed out again. This time, Ghost channeled power into his paw in the same way that Jon had done against the being with white hair, grey skin and glowing blue eyes that they had encountered the last time that Jon had unconsciously used the Warg ability.

The direwolf's paw lit up as if it was set aflame and his lunge took him through his opponent as Ghost landed about two of the wolf's lengths away from his adversary after striking with his magically enhanced blow. The former alpha fell to his side as Ghost turned around to face his adversary.

When the former alpha fell, the she-wolves and the cubs got to their feet before raising their heads and howling towards the sky. At this the other pack members retreated, leaving their former alpha along with the prey that they had been able to bring down to the beast that had managed to take down their alpha.

The sheer volume of the howl startled Jon when he heard it with Ghost's enhanced hearing. The shock caused him to inadvertently break his connection with Ghost. Now back in his own body, Jon put a hand against the tree and used it as leverage to stand up.

Jon tried to avoid disturbing Ygritte, who had also taken advantage of their break to have a quick nap, but his efforts were for naught. Ygritte opened her eyes and was quick to focus on Jon.

"Not trying to run out on me, I hope?" Ygritte had a faux stern expression but it was broken when her face stretched as she yawned. "I would expect someone from a fancy castle to have better manners than to sneak out while the lady sleeps. Maybe it's a good thing that you aren't ready to settle down if that's how you intend to treat your lady."

Jon chuckled while running a hand through his hair. While it was true that he was planning to leave her, it wasn't like he didn't intend to come back to her. "Nay, Ghost took care to secure a meal for us to break our fasts. We'll have plenty of venison to see us through until we are reunited with the Free Folk. I trust that you don't object to venison?"

Ygritte elected to stretch out whatever kinks had developed in her body while she was napping before responding, "What would a girl like me have to fear from a deer? I know well enough how to avoid being stuck by random horns."

Jon's tried to be subtle while turning his head to look in the direction that he knew Ghost to be as his face flushed, imagining how he could stick his horn in Ygritte. He took a few moments to get his thoughts under control and allow his coloration to normalize.

"That's good to know. Ghost should be this way. Since you're awake, we should be off." Jon stated walking, trusting that Ygritte would follow. "We don't want the meat to spoil under the sun."

Hearing Ygritte moving behind him, Jon interpreted the sound of her agreement as he set off.

Archery +1,200
Alteration: Warg +5,000
Light Armor +500
One-Handed +800
Evasion +400
Two-Handed +400
Destruction: Flames +1000

Back at Winterfell, Bran's body was still in the same bed that he had occupied since his fall. However, his mind had been transported far beyond Winterfell's walls.

"Bran, I need you to pay attention." The voice did not contain the exasperation of a person who had given the same direction multiple times but it did convey the exhaustion of man who has lived beyond his years and seen things that no man should have to see. "Magic has returned to the realms in a way that I never could have foreseen and I was able to use the newly awoken magic to bring your mind to join me in this place."

Bran was sick of dreaming and ready to wake. This caused him to be more fidgety than usual but he forced himself to make eye contact with Bloodraven. "Alright, magic has returned. I just don't see what it has to do with me," Bran voiced his confusion. "I've never used magic before and I don't know how to use it now."

"Indeed." Bloodraven easily agreed. "In every future that I had been able to see, you were destined to lose the use of your legs; losing your legs would be the catalyst to a series of events that would have led you to take my place and fly higher than any man has flown before. This will no longer come to pass because the one you know as Jon Snow released magic to the world. When he released the magic, it not only allowed him to heal your legs but it made it easier for both friends and foes with magical affinities to unlock their abilities. The great enemy will have access to more magic than ever before and I don't believe that merely training you in my abilities will be sufficient to counter the power that he has gained."

"If Jon was able to heal me, then he should be strong enough to take care of your enemy for you," Bloodraven seemed to approve of Bran's faith in Jon. "He's gotten strong and will only get stronger."

"The enemy that I speak of is the enemy to all men." Bloodraven corrected gently. "Jon Snow will play his part in the battle against the one that brings the cold however he is but one man. He can do much but it would not be prudent to have him fight the battle on his own. Nay, what I would task you in doing is gathering others with magical abilities and training them to wield magic against the great enemy."

Bran tilted his head in confusion. "How could I gather others with magical abilities? I've only had ten name days. Why would anyone follow a boy with only ten name days or want to learn from him?"

Bloodraven nodded along at Bran's questions. "While it is true that you only have ten name days, you also have a greater pool of magic than any, save Jon Snow, on this side of Westeros and carry the Stark family name. Your father is aware of magic. When you wake, you must tell him of this conversation. If he is willing to provide you with an entourage, I can use the new magic to guide you to others with magical abilities while also training you in the use of magic."

Bran looked excited at the prospect of learning magic though his apprehension regarding the endeavor that Bloodraven wanted him to undertake was evident. "Even if we can find people that can use magic, how would you be able to teach me to use magic?"

A satisfied smile spread across Bloodraven's face. "Just as I was able to bring you here, we can journey through memories to see how Jon Snow learned to channel such magic. Between us, we will be able to recreate the spells so that you will be able to teach the others. Eventually, you will be one of the strongest wielders of magic in Westeros and you will be able to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Jon Snow when he does battle against the last enemy."

Though the boy was green, his face was resolute at the mention of battling beside Jon. "I don't know that I can do what you've asked but I'll try my best."

"That's all that I ask of you, Bran. I will do what I can to keep the great enemy at bay for as long as I can. Eventually his power will overcome my resistance. By that time, it is essential that you and the other mages that you assemble that are prepared to pick up the fight." Bloodraven's conviction was evident in the tone of his voice. "You, Jon Snow and others will prove that you are up to the challenge. You must or all is lost."

Bloodraven's words seemed to echo through Bran's mind as it was transported back to Winterfell. With a gasp, Bran opened his eyes. His waking caused his mother's eyes to widen as she stood from her seated and rushed over to him, taking his hands in hers.

"Bran, sweetling, you're awake. Thank the Seven!" Tears fell from his mother's eyes as she expressed her relief. "You had all of us so worried. It was bad enough that your father made me leave the room for his bastard to do only the Seven knows what. Even still, you wouldn't wake."

Bran's mind was reeling from the discussion with Bloodraven and from his mother's words. "Jon is back?"

"Oh, my sweet boy," Catelyn released one of Bran's hands to caress her son's face. "Even after your injury, your first thoughts are about others. The bastard came and went. After attacking Theon and putting you, your brothers and sisters and the whole of the north in danger, he chose a life amongst alleged Wildlings. The castle is better off for it. Eventually he will face the king's justice and you won't have to worry about him hurting you anymore."

"But mother," Bran was confused by his mother's words. "Jon would never hurt me. I don't know how he did it but he was able to heal me."

"You're so young, Bran," the Lady of Winterfell's tone was patronizing. "Eventually you will see what I see. That bastard took one of Theon's eyes. It was only a matter of time before he lashed out against you or one of your brothers or sisters. He would have taken Winterfell for his own, if he thought that he could get away with it. Now he will never have the chance."

Bran looked at his mother as if she had grown a second head. "Um, I really don't think that Jon would do any of that. I need to speak to father. Can you send for him?"

"Yes, your father," Catelyn seemed to realize that there would be others that would want to know that Bran had woken up. "You stay here and rest up. I'll get your father."

With a kiss to Bran's forehead, the Lady of House Stark rushed from the room. Bran was left alone with many thoughts as the door was closed.

There were several things on Theon's mind over the weeks since his eye was injured. On the day of his injury, after the emotional conversation with Lord Stark and the king, Theon sought out Maester Luwin. The maester did his best to heal Theon's eye and was able to save the organ, having Theon return every other day to check how the eye was healing and provide potions to help alleviate the pain from the injury.

However the maester was very clear, when speaking with Theon, that he thought it to be unlikely that the boy would ever see with the same clarity of sight that he possessed when the eye was its original icy blue color now that the eye was a cloudy, white color. After the first week Theon had started to see blurred silhouettes through the damaged eye but that ended up being more distracting than helpful, which prompted Theon to cover the eye with an eyepatch.

The Lord of Winterfell had requested an audience in his solar a few days after Theon had brought his grievances to him and the king. The conversation between the lord and his ward was another topic that frequently demanded Theon's attention over the past fortnight.

Flashback Start

"Thank you for joining me, Theon." Lord Stark greeted him as he entered the man's solar. The man had been sitting at his desk with an assortment of papers strewn before him but he rose and gestured for Theon to take the seat across the desk from his position. "I hope that your eye is feeling better. Maester Luwin told me that you sought him out and he was able to start a healing regime."

"Yes, Lord Stark." Theon was still angry about what had happened to his eye but, having rested and consumed potions to help dull the ache from the wound, he was in a better headspace to speak to the man that had raised him along with the Stark children. "There is still pain but it is not as severe as it was when the wound was fresh."

"There are some pains that never quite leave us," Lord Stark acknowledged with a somber nod. "I wanted to take the opportunity to talk to you, after you had some time to cool your head, in a place where we can be candid with one another without having to concern ourselves with how others may use our words to try and steer our actions to further their own plans and agendas."

Theon nodded but did not immediately respond.

"Even though I still want to hear Jon's perspective, I believe that I have a fairly strong understanding of what happened but I would have some clarification from you." Lord Stark made eye contact with Theon's uncovered eye as he spoke. "You mentioned that you had an encounter with Jon and his companions in the wood before you captured one of those companions. Did something happen that caused you to give chase in the first place?"

"Lord Stark," Theon began. "I already told you that I heard them talking of the land beyond the Wall. How could they have known of those places unless they were Wildlings? I know that I'm not a Stark but I was there with Robb when you spoke to the other northern lords that brought stories of Wildlings raiding their lands. I wanted to do my duty; a duty that I had seen you place upon the lords that pledge their fealty to you."

"While I certainly appreciate that you want to uphold the virtues that I've attempted to instill in you over the years, I suspect that there may be more to it than that," Lord Stark asserted with a raised eyebrow. "Was it truly just hearing them speak of lands north of the Wall that provoked you or was there more?"

Theon cast his gaze downward as his face lightly colored in embarrassment as he remembered other times throughout his childhood when Lord Stark would pull him away from the others for private discussions after altercations to discuss his temper. "There may have been some insults exchanged that caused the ginger to punch me in the face. I may have let my temper get the best of me after being hit."

"You are to be a Lord of Westeros, the same as Robb, Theon. A lord that can't control his temple will find it to be far more difficult to rule his lands than a lord that people trust to be fair, despite his personal opinions on matters," Lord Stark prompted. "If you were acting as a lord in that situation, how would you have handled it differently?"

Theon leaned forward and clasped his hands together as he considered the lord's words. After a few moments, he met Lord Stark's gaze before speaking, "Even though I believed then, because of her words, that the ginger was a Wildling. I did not have to force the encounter by myself. If I had shared the information with you and the others, we could have got to the truth of the matter and, if my suspicions were proven to be true, there would have been no need to chase the Wildling down or get into a fight with Jon."

"Your words are well reasoned, Theon." The Lord's face was stern but there was approval in his expression as well. "What happened next?"

"The purple-haired girl was able to create a sticky substance that restrained me. This, after having been punched in the face by the ginger, did no favors to my temper. I'm unsure exactly how long it took but after a time, the sticky substance had weakened to a point that I was able to free myself."

"I'm surprised that this was not brought up in our discussion with the king," Lord Stark had a mildly surprised look. "Even though it doesn't really have anything to do with whether or not they may be Wildlings, it seems like something that would be brought up in the hopes of bringing more suspicion on that group."

Theon had a sheepish look on his face, "I wasn't in the best state of mind for details during that conversation. I was angry. My eye was in pain. That detail slipped my mind."

"Yes, in your anger, you demanded an eye for an eye from Jon or even his head as recompense for your injury." At this, the lord's face turned grave. "Even though I don't like it, and wouldn't want any of you pitted against each other, I understand why you made the demands. What I don't understand is why, even in your rage, you entered into potentially dangerous combat with live weapons. I know that both you and Jon have been trained to know that there is always the possibility for injury when using live steel. I don't know if Jon was injured but I can say with complete sincerity that brings me no joy to see you sitting before me injured."

Theon had to stifle the annoyance from showing on his face at being reminded of words that were drilled into him when he had started training with Ser Rodrick. However, he could hear the sincerity in Lord Stark's voice and believed the man's claim that seeing Theon injured brought him no joy. "Aye, I remember the lessons. I was just so angry. I still don't know if I will ever be able to see out of my eye. Truly, I don't want to see Jon or any of your children hurt but, at that point, it seemed justified."

"It lightens my heart to know that you do not wish harm on my children, it may be too late to do anything about it since the king has called for Jon to be put on trial." Lord Stark looked exhausted. "Having your demand backed by the queen and mine own wife has created a situation that will be hard to ignore. I would encourage you to petition the king to dismiss the trial though, now that the boulder has started rolling down the hill, it will most likely be hard to stop."

There it is, Theon immediately sought subtext from Lord Stark's words. This was never about me. This was always about Jon. I was injured while trying to live up to Lord Stark's expectations. Could I have gone about it differently? Maybe I could have but, the fact remains, I was injured and I am almost positive that Jon made my bow-string snap, even if I have no way of proving it.

The moments passed as Theon considered the interaction with Lord Stark. Eventually he broke the silence, "Lord Stark. Yohan proved it possible to use magic to throw ice. The purple-haired girl used some kind of sticky substance which seemed unnatural, possibly a form of magic, to restrain me. Would it be so unbelievable that Jon could use some kind of magic to make my bowstring snap?"

Go on, deny it. Theon's thoughts were full of vitriol despite the leveled tone that he had used to deliver his response. Prove to me that I will never matter to you as much as your children. Prove that, in your eyes, I am no better than a bastard.

Lord Stark took a deep breath and exhaled audibly before replying, "I wish that I was able to answer differently but there is logic in your words. I would like to think that, if Jon has access to some kind of magic, he would not use it to harm you or any member of Winterfell but I can't dismiss the possibility."

Theon's mouth fell open momentarily but he was quick to close it before responding, "You truly believe me?"

"I believe that it is a possibility. I still need to hear Jon's side of the story before I would be willing to form a verdict. Just as I would not condone you intentionally harming him, I would not condone him intentionally harming you either," Lord Stark proclaimed. "Until I can speak with Jon, I will not be able to punish him for his part in this foolishness. However, for the part that you played you will have to muck the stables for the next fortnight. See to it that you control your temper and act the part of a lord when you find yourself in this type of situation in the future. I don't want to hear about your temper causing harm to you or anyone else in this castle."

Flashback End

Theon had accepted the punishment meted out by Lord Stark, knowing that it could have been much worse. Dealing with literal horseshit was something that Theon had only had to do a few times since he had arrived at Winterfell. In the past, he would usually have Robb there with him since they were often involved in the same scheme that had caused Lord Stark's ire.

I know that the bastard, Theon shook his head before correcting himself, internally. Jon had been made to muck the stables many times after Lady Catelyn petitioned her husband after perceived slights and improprieties. I'll get through this just as I have before.

Things aren't as they've been before though, are they? Theon's eye narrowed. I may never be able to see out my eye again. Sure, I understand why Lord Stark would punish anyone in the castle for attacking another with the intent to cause harm but, if the bastard purposefully attacked in a way to cause permanent injury then was it wrong to attack as I did or was it wrong not to accomplish the task of maiming the bastard before he was able to do the same to me?