A/N: Standard disclaimer here. I don't own ASOIAF and only write for fun.
Theon
He took a deep breath and slowly bent down and swiped the apple from the grass. He slowly picked it up, and in a fluid motion threw it as far and high as he could. He quickly lifted his bow, snapped the drawstring back, and let the arrow fly… the arrow pierced the apple and hit the makeshift target he made on the tree. He was five for five.
"Still can shoot better than the rest of us," Jon commented from behind him. He didn't know he was being watched. Ghost was next to him, and it looked like Jon's newest pet had found a home between the large wolf's ears.
"I practice when I can," Theon responded simply, again picking up another apple, throwing, and shooting. "Have you named it yet?"
"Gaelithox," Jon responded as if it was as simple of an answer as Theon gave him.
"Gaelithox?" Theon questioned, struggling to pronounce the name. He never did pay attention when Maester Luwin attempted to teach them Valyrian.
"Ser Arthur told me that the Targaryens of old named their dragons after the gods of Old Valyria. I thought it would be fitting to do the same."
"What is Gaelithox the god of?" he asked.
"The god of fire, the stars, the moon… of the sun and the dawn…"
"Oh…" Theon responded. It made sense that Jon would name it that. Looking at the small creature it fit. He was red like fire, but if Gaelithox was the god of the dawn…
"Have you gotten as good with your sword hand as you have gotten with that bow?" Jon asked, changing the subject.
Theon smiled. "I never was you. I gave Robb a couple of lumps when we were smaller, but I'm no fool to challenge you Targaryen."
Jon made a face at him. Theon laughed. "Sounds weird, doesn't it? Doesn't roll off the tongue as Snow did."
"I'll get used to it," Jon answered
"Like you have a choice, your majesty," Theon laughed again causing Jon to crack a smile.
"You know Robb told me something similar," Jon said.
"That's not a surprise. It's just odd, isn't it? I used to talk down on you, tell you that you were just a bastard… and now look. If only I'd had known."
"Is that your way of saying sorry?" Jon laughed.
"Ser Arthur did always say I was shit at giving apologies," Theon answered, grabbing the back of his head. He closed his eyes. It was still such a sore topic for them all, and if he were honest he felt forgotten it all. Sure, Jon was the closest to him, but he was his teacher too. The lessons, the time they spent together, the stories he told… Theon would never forget. How could he?
"I'll miss that about him," Jon said. "I could always trust him to be honest. I'm afraid where I'm going that honesty will cease to exist. They will be afraid to speak their minds because I'm the king."
"Or," Theon said, "they will refuse to speak their minds on purpose to gain favor just to put a knife in your back. The game of thrones, as your father likes to say."
"Our father," Jon corrected him. "Just like Arthur was our teacher. I should have checked on you, comforted you, made sure you were okay."
He appreciated it but still shook his head. "Don't go getting soft on me now Targaryen, you can't afford it where you're going."
"What would you rather me say?" Jon smirked at him.
"Tell me that you'd take the knife out your back and cut their throats with it," Theon responded seriously.
"You care about me?" Jon asked. "Look who's soft now Greyjoy."
"When the snows fall and the white winds blow…" Theon started.
"The pack survives," Jon answered and paused stopping to stare at Theon curiously before speaking again. "What will you do after all this is over? After we have won the wars and go back to the boring lives that were our childhood."
"Travel the world, I suppose," he responded. Convince father to let me marry Sansa… he didn't say that out loud but he thought it, a thought that he would have to quickly lose. It would never happen. "I'll take a ship and go see what the world has to offer."
"You haven't thought of going home… to Pyke?"
Another sore subject. He frowned and sighed. "You would let me return? After all this time?"
"You aren't my hostage Theon, I would hope that I could rule these lands peacefully and that includes the Iron Islands."
"I can't go home," he spoke sadly and hoped that Jon would take the hint.
He didn't. "Why not?"
"It's not the same there Jon," Theon replied, starting to feel frustrated. "I can't just go marching in there and say "I'm the Lord of the Iron Islands " now. I'm an outsider to them. I would be the Lord only in name. They would never respect me. I've never paid the Iron price."
"Surely when your grandfather died, your father took over as he was the next in line?" Jon asked.
"You don't understand," Theon responded. "He was raised there. He learned to sail when he was still young and by the time he was ten he scaled Flint Cliffs and the Blind Lord's haunted tower. By thirteen, he was an expert oarsman, and at fifteen he had taken his first two salt wives. By the time he was my age, he was the captain of his ship… they won't accept me."
"So you just would give up your home?" Jon said, his brow raised, his voice challenging.
"Winterfell is my home," Theon responded. "I've accepted that. I want to travel the world, Jon. See what I can see, find the treasures that I can find. When I'm done with that, I will return to Robb in Winterfell, ask for a nice keep, marry a nice girl and have a bunch of children."
Jon looked at him, disappointed.
"Don't give me that look Targaryen," Theon shouted angrily. He hated that look. Ser Arthur gave him that look. Lord Stark gave him that look. Sansa gave him that look...
"I just never thought that you'd be the one to give up so easily. We were kids once remember? We played lord of the castle. Robb was the Lord of Winterfell. You were the Lord of the Iron Islands and not another ship in the ocean would stand in your way… What happened?"
Jon walked away. "Don't you walk away from me Snow!" he shouted, trying anything, everything, to hurt him. He was ignored and left to his thoughts. He sighed. What had happened?
They arrived at Bitterbridge a couple of days later. It was amazing the difference between a Lord Stark-led army and the one led by the late King Renly. Seemingly overnight they had become faster, more disciplined.
As they rode toward the castle, he couldn't help but remember what Maester Luwin taught him about this place. The ironborn used to raid it. A battle at Stonebridge was one of the many battles during the Faith Militant uprising against King Maegor I Targaryen. The savagery of that particular battle made the Mander run red with blood for twenty leagues and the castle had been called Bitterbridge ever since.
It was funny, a place that his ancestors once raided yet he was welcomed with open arms. He wondered what they would think of them.
Lady Catelyn and the Tyrell host waited for them as they rode through the gates. It seemed like all of the Tyrells were present. The only was missing was Willas Tyrell, who stayed behind in Highgarden to run the castle while Mace Tyrell was away.
The most impressive of them all though was Garlan Tyrell. He stood tall amongst them all and looked like an older version of Loras with a beard. He was less famous than his younger brother, of course, but if you listened to the Tyrell men speak, he was more formidable in battle. It was hard to believe, Loras was good, but the Tyrell man swore by it. He had an aura to him that reminded Theon of Ser Arthur.
Immediately, as Jon hopped down from his horse, the people that had gathered in the courtyard kneeled and bow to him. It was quite a sight to see, Jon standing there, uncomfortable as only Jon could be, with Ghost sitting staring blankly at the crowd next to him and Gaelithox sleeping peacefully between the wolf's ears. Both the animals were so unbothered by the crowd. It felt like they were beneath them all.
It was amazing how much the small dragon was like the large direwolf. It too didn't make much noise. It found comfort and warmth in the direwolf's fur and ate only when Jon tossed him raw meat that he could burn. Ghost tried to bring the young dragon food when he hunted, but the dragon wasn't interested in anything Ghost bought.
Jon wasn't an idiot though. He made Ghost give him the food before he gave it to the dragon. That seemed to work.
Although he and Jon hadn't spoken since their disagreement, Jon didn't request that someone else guard him, so he got to see the daily trials of raising a dragon. It was quite interesting, to say the least.
When everybody had risen, Lady Catelyn moved forward to hug Lord Stark, before moving on to Jon. It didn't surprise him one bit when after Jon, she searched for him. She hugged him too, with all the warmth and love that his mother used to. "I'm glad you are safe, and I know my children would be glad too."
It didn't take long for the crowd to disperse. Lord and Lady Stark joined Jon and the Tyrells in the Lord's solar to discuss what would happen next. It was clear to him that it was time to march toward King's Landing, but he wasn't sure that it was the decision that would be made. It wasn't up to him.
He decided not to stick around long and instead rode back toward the river to try to find a place to set up his tent. He wouldn't be offered a place in the Castle, so he had to quickly find a good place to camp, else he would end up sleeping in the mud.
He quickly found a spot near the rest of the Stark men, close enough to the river to fetch fresh water and fish, but far enough from the banks that it wouldn't get muddy around him. As he finished setting up his tent, a messenger came to him.
"King Jon would like to speak with you," the messenger said. He was led away from the camp, surrounded by four guards and their horses. It was strange, to say the least.
When he arrived in the Lord's Solar, Lord Stark was waiting for him with a grim look on his face. Ser Garlan Tyrell was there as well, a frown spread across his face as he looked at the maps on the table. Jon was facing the window, while Lyarra, Ghost, and Gaelithox lay by the fire.
"You called for me, my King," he smirked and hoped that the disagreement between him and Jon could be over, that the boy he grew up with would turn to him, and say something smart that would make them both laugh.
Jon turned around, as grim of look on his face as Lord Stark, and spoke gravely. "We received word that Balon Greyjoy has attacked the North."
His head started spinning. He felt like he was going to be sick.
A/N: Here is another one. I have fully updated chapters 1-15 with correct spellings and such using the Grammarly toolbar on Google docs. Hopefully they read better now. Let me know.
Some more Drake lines in here for those of you that can find them. Shouldn't be too hard.
Again thanks for all the reviews and responses. See you all soon!
Youngthundercat67