THE FALLEN HOLD
BRAN
He had been woken up by the arrival of a stranger followed by Theon.
"I have taken your castle now.", Theon spoke and Bran's sleepy head only registered half of the words.
"Theon?"
"It's Prince Theon now." Theon moved a step closer to Bran's bed before speaking again, "Get up. You have to get dressed now. I have taken Winterfell. I took it. I'm occupying it. I am taking this castle."
"What? You went with Robb.", Bran speaks remembering the day he had said the armies march out.
"And he sent me to Pyke. I'm a Greyjoy. I can't fight for my father and Robb both."
"My men are bringing your people together in the courtyard."
"Why?", Bran questioned.
"So you and I can go down and tell them how you have yielded Winterfell to me."
"I won't.", Bran rebelled even if he was not the superior one of the two.
"Yes you will." Theon spoke angrily, flinging himself towards Bran.
"I won't. I will never yield. We will fight you and throw you out." Courage is not something Bran possesses in abundance but he is the ruling Prince at Winterfell as Robb continues the war. Courage and bravery are some things he needs to show.
Theon sighs in arrogance before moving to sit on Bran's bed. "The castle is mine but the people are yours. You will yield to keep them safe, to keep them alive. That's what a good Lord would do. Think carefully about what you want to say next."
With those words Theon leaves the room and Bran is left alone in his to-be yielded home.
He had stood by Maester Luwin as the old man bowed to Theon, Prince Theon, to be exact. The Prince of Winterfell. Bran stood as a weak, miserable boy while the Iron-born took over Winterfell, claiming it as theirs. He thinks for a moment that all of this would have never happened had Robb been here. Robb was a warrior now, a King who could hold his castle against invaders unlike Bran, who himself is a crippled boy.
Ser Rodrik is caught and beheaded while Bran watches, horrified at what had come. This was Theon, Theon Greyjoy, his father's ward. A boy brought up at Winterfell, a man Robb had considered brother. How had the war changed to this? Theon was supposed to be with Robb, fighting by his side.
THEON
He had been having nightmares as of late. Two days since becoming Winterfell's Prince, he had not once stopped hearing the deafening howls of the direwolves. Which is why he is instantly alert when he hears no howling tonight. The wolves had not stopped since the day he had come.
He sends for Urzen first, ordering the man to go down to where the wolves were locked up and find out what was going on. Theon himself had woken up Wex, who was in the chambers next to his own, to go and check upon the Stark boys. The wolves and the boys seemed to have an unnatural bond. At the back of his mind, Theon fears the worst, like the boys running of and a part of Theon is slightly worried for the boys. Them running off would not be safe for anybody. They needed to be safe and sound.
The entire hold is awake by the time Wex returns telling him that the boys and their direwolves are gone. Wex also informs him that a couple of his ironmen had also been killed outside the Hunter's Gate.
"Search the whole castle. I want everybody else accounted for. And send some to search for the boys! Now!", Theon commands, moving to grab the nearest servant.
"Do you know anything, boy? Tell me now if you value your life."
"No.. No, my Lord.", the young boy cried, "Please My Lord.. I know nothing. I do not know anything." Theon leaves that simpering, weeping boy behind. He was too much of a fool to know anything. However, there had to be somebody, anybody, who would know where the boys were. Bran was a cripple, he could never get by without that half-wit Hodor.
Wex comes back again this time informing him of the absence of Hodor, the Reeds and the wildling Osha and Theon knew he should have cut that wildling's head off when he had the chance. He laments that missed opportunity.
"Prepare the horses. I want a party ready to leave now, do you understand? The boys need to be found. " It would be humiliating if his sister came to find out that Theon could not even keep two little boys in his grip. How she would laugh at him. His father would be even worse. None of them would see what Theon had achieved, of how he had captured Winterfell of all places. No, there would only be humiliation if the boys were not taken care of properly. Theon's patience after all has finally run out. The boys would have hell to pay upon being found.
VISENYA
He was beautiful, Visenya decides, as her hands glide over his scales. A small little beast of black with flaming red eyes. She had named it Vhagar even if the beast looked like Balerion the Dread reborn. There was something about this dragon though that attracted Visenya the most. Simply because the other two would never come close enough. The cream coloured one would come close sometimes before flying away, wild and unruly that he was but not Vhagar. Never Vhagar. Vhagar was controlled, often nuzzling her hand or stomach as though he knew a child was growing inside her.
She didn't even know why he visited her and why the other girl never did. Daenerys Targaryen, Ser Barristan, had told her was across the Narrow Sea when he had left the Kingsguard. Across the Narrow Sea, living in exile with her brother for her father's sins. The girl was her aunt though. Her blood, the last of the Targaryens and Visenya wanted to meet her.
She remembered the day the dragons had hatched. Visenya had stood in the fire, watching in fascination, as the three dragons slowly came out of their eggs, clinging to Daenerys. She had dreamt it then and even now, as she pets Vhagar, she knows it is a dream but a part of her finds it all to be so real, like this is where she actually should be, wherever this place is.
"Your Grace… Your Grace." She hears Alys call out and her eyes flutter open to find the girl hovering over her. "You keep dreaming, Your Grace, even when the sun shines over head." Alys chastises her.
"It is the babe.", Visenya answers instantly. Lately, what ever happens, it is cause of the babe. She wakes up at ungodly hours, pukes more number of times than she has eaten. It is the babe, always her little babe.
"A raven arrived this morning, Your Grace.", Alys speaks and Visenya instantly thinks of Robb finally writing to her.
"Where is it?", Visenya asks referring to the letter which the raven brought. Her smile however, dies when Alys looks on in worry.
"What is it?", she asks, fearing the worst. "Is it Robb? Has something happened to him?"
"You Grace, the letter came from the North. I know not what it said but the kitchen girls were saying it is ill news." Alys answers.
"Who has the letter?"
"Lady Stark, Your Grace.", Alys answers obediently.
"Well then, have my food sent to Lady Stark's chambers. I shall break fast with her."
Alys bows down before leaving Visenya and instantly she grabs her gown to dress. Dark wings, dark words. That or something like that was what people said about ravens. And the only ill news that could come from the North would be from Winterfell. From Bran and her little Rickon, who she loved so much.
Visenya knocked on the chamber doors before speaking, "Lady Stark? May I enter?"
A few moments before Brienne of Tarth opened the door. Both the girls nodded in acknowledgement before Visenya entered to find Lady Stark. Lady Stark was still dressed in her nightgown, her red hair unruly and unkempt, a letter clutched to her hand.
With fear in her heart, Visenya addressed the Lady. "I heard a letter came from the North. May I read it?"
Lady Stark finally looked up at Visenya and the image of a teary, red-eyed Lady Stark surprised her so much that she took a step back. With slightly shaky hands, Lady Stark handed her the crumpled piece of paper.
Ironborn… taken over Winterfell… Prince Theon…. Bran and Rickon Stark dead….
No, no, no. This could not be happening. They couldn't be dead. Not Bran and Rickon. Rickon was a babe. She doesn't even notice she is on the floor until Lady Brienne is trying to help her get up and Lady Stark is chastising her, reminding her that she is with child. She is crying and it is Lady Stark who envelops her in a hug as she rubs her back.
How could this be happening? They could not be gone. First Lord Stark and now the boys. Robb wasn't even here and Robb needed to know. And Sansa and Arya were under the Lannisters clutches. Visenya hadn't even realised how much the Starks had come to mean to her up until this moment.
ROBB
He had been fighting in Crag and been grievously injured. The Westerlings had taken his army in and started aiding them. That is the last clear thing he remembers before it is all a blur as he is high on milk of poppy.
He remembers somebody nursing him to health and he was sure it was Visenya. He still couldn't speak properly, his fever dreams far too many. But Visenya was in every one of them, telling him to be safe, healing him, kissing away his wounds. Atleast, he thinks that it was Visenya in the dreams.
He had been awake for merely a few moments, his thoughts still a little distorted and his sight still hallucinating when one of his Lord had told him about Bran and Rickon. He had wept then and as a body moved to console him, he clung to her. It was Visenya, it was certainly Visenya for it could be nobody else. He had clung to her as she had whispered some words which had escaped him. His Visenya was here helping him and saving him as always and so he moved to kiss her. His vision is blurry because of the tears and the taste of the lips isn't the same but he blames it all on the milk of poppy. He hears his wolf howl nearby as though in pain but he does not care at the moment. He has Visenya and Visenya is all he wants. So he takes her that evening. His movements are hard and fast and he doesn't think of Visenya's pain for the moment. He thinks of nothing and all he feels is anger. He is hurt and angry at Theon, the betrayal stinging him. Theon was a brother and now he is nothing more than a traitor. Robb will have his revenge though. Come dawn, he would command a few of his Lords to retake Winterfell. Robb would himself be the one to swing the sword that would separate Theon's head from his body.