Theon

He could feel Brienne watching him from the doorway as he moved about the room he'd been given in Riverrun. It hadn't been the nicest of rooms, at least compared to what he had been given at Winterfell, but after his travels on the road with Brienne, sleeping in caves and under trees with only a few supplies and whatever they could catch or scavenge, it had felt like the finest chambers in Old Valyria during its prime as far as Theon had been concerned. Brienne had been given a room right next to him, the steward of Riverrun quickly realizing that suggesting she sleep in the same wing was as the maidens and other womenfolk of noble birth would be a bad idea. Her need to be up at the crack of dawn so she might snag the best place in the yard to train proved that right. So instead she got a room right next to Theon and many evenings the two of them would end up together in one of them, swapping stories or playing dice or cards or simply enjoying each other's company as they checked over their weapons and armor. So having her standing there in the doorway as he stalked about wasn't that out of the norm.

Neither was him feeling so impatient these last few weeks, he silently admitted.

"Still no word from his grace?" Brienne asked, leaning against the doorframe. Thankfully when Riverun had been constructed the planner had either been a tall fellow or he had just liked massive doors; whatever the case it had meant that Brienne, for once since her transformation, didn't have to duck down in order to enter a room.

He looked over at her. She'd already finished with her midday exercises and thus wasn't wearing the armor that had recently been finished for her by the Riverrun blacksmith, who had been rather excited at the challenge of making something for a person her size, a woman at that, which could withstand not just blows from a foe but its own wearer's raw strength. No, she was just in a purple shirt and a pair of trousers. The shirt had been stitched together by seamstresses under Brienne's directive, the chest loose and airy while the sleeves were practically non-existant, showing off her thick corded muscular arms.

"None," Theon admitted. He had just come from the yard himself, having emptied a quiver of arrows into several targets to work off his frustrations. "Same as yesterday and the day before that and the day before that." He pulled off his shirt, needing a fresh one; he didn't merely aim at targets but ran about the yard, firing off shots while dodging leather balls that squires threw at him. Lady… Queen Catelyn's brother Edmure had suggested it as the man, while utterly useless when it came to commanding forces, was an amazing archer and knew how to use a bow not just in tourneys but battle as well. Theon had been utterly stunned to see the shots Edmure could make and even the Queen had stated that she'd only seen one other man in the entire Seven Kingdoms who was a truer aim than the future lord of Riverrun.

Brienne padded in, her bare feet surprisingly quiet for a woman of her size and build. There was no hesitation in the fact that Theon was naked from the chest up. She was no blushing maiden, after all, and Theon wasn't a stammering youth. 'Besides,' he thought to himself as he sat down on his bed and yanked at his boots, 'we saw much more of each other when we were traveling together.' They hadn't dared split up while fleeing from Renly's camp and later the Blackwood lands and thus both had quickly gotten used to seeing the other one naked. Especially after the Blackwoods. Theon Greyjoy would have been sporting an erection even at the hint of being naked with a woman. Theon Bracken now would politely turn his back and allow her to change.

He made a face as he finally got his boot off, cringing at the odor that wafted up to his nose before tossing the thing as far away from him as possible.

"I need to see a cobbler."

"And Lord Bolton," Brienne said. When Theon raised an eyebrow she smirked. "The Master of War is always looking for new ways to win a battle. We could use those as weapons against the Lannisters. Pitch them over a wall and they'll come screaming out the gate."

"Ha. Ha. Ha." Theon rolled his eyes but motioned for her to take a seat. "You work out harder than I do in the yard… are you telling me your garments smell of rose water?"

"Yes but only because I tear through them long before they can build up an odor."

Theon yanked off his other boot only to frown when that one didn't make his nose hairs curl. "Hell, that other one must have a hole or something."

"Still need to see a cobbler then," Brienne said casually, the chair she'd selected creaking a touch as she shifted her bulk. "It's odd, being in one place for so long. It's been over a year since I've stayed in a castle for more than a few days."

"We should have been on the road again," Theon muttered leaning back against the bed. "We should be in the Neck… through the Neck actually now that I think about it. We should be on the way to Winterfell… and we aren't!" He let out a frustrated huff. "How can you be so calm about this?"

Brienne scoffed. "Theon, I am never calm. I just know how to use my frustration and rage properly, constructively."

"You mean you find something to brutally destroy with your bare hands."

"Sometimes I kick it," she stated.

Theon managed a weak laugh but that was about it. "This is all because of the damn message King Eddard received."

They had been a day away from riding out when the rider had arrived with the sigil of the Starks upon his mount's caparison, demanding to see the king at once. His grace had seen him in private in his solar only to send word to Theon, Brienne, and the riders that were preparing to accompany them to Winterfell that they were to remain in Riverrun until given leave. After that King Eddard had sent out command for his Small Council to return to Riverrun and the ruler of the Northern and Riverland Kingdoms had sequestered himself away with his Master of Whispers, Fury. What they discussed no one knew… not even Queen Catelyn had been informed of what the note contained, much to the woman's annoyance. She had even asked Theon if he had been told anything about what was being discussed and when he'd told her he did not she had for the first time since he'd known her truly commiserated with him.

That had been a fortnight ago and still no change had come. Thus Theon was left in an odd state of limbo, not quite sure what he should do. He could not leave Riverrun to help in the war, lest his grace call for him to serve. But none of the tasks that might be given to him within the castle of the Tullys actually needed him, for others had long been assigned to complete them. Thus he was left to his own devices, wandering about the castle wanting to do more and unable to do so.

"I haven't been able to glean anything about what has happened." Theon rubbed at his chin, feeling the short beard scratching against his palm. He grown out the stubble during his ride with Lord Bracken and when he'd come to Riverrun he had liked the look of it. Before he had looked like a boy playing at being a man. Now he was beginning to finally resemble who he wanted the world to see. It also helped that he had taken to cutting his hair shorter, getting the castle barber to sheer it to the same short length as his beard. The lose of the unruly mop and addition of a close crop beard helped do away with Theon Greyjoy and bring about truly Theon Bracken. It helped that his father had always preferred long hair and a clean face; another way to thumb his nose at the man he had once called father.

"No one has," Brienne stated.

"And that is what worries me," Theorn admitted. "If it were only a minor delay Lord... King Eddard would have never been so secretive. It isn't in his nature to be so concealing. Not because he doesn't see the need for it, but because he prefers to use such a weapon only when needed." He sat up and looked at her. "A man that always holds secrets doesn't shock anyone when he holds another one. But an honest and open man who suddenly begins to whisper in the shadows?"

"It means the need for secrecy is great."

He nodded. "And the only reason I can think of for him being so secretive is that something has happened in Winterfell. Some very bad." Theon pulled himself to his feet and began to pace again. "I should have gone with Robb. I shouldn't have let him go on without me."

"You couldn't have known-"

"But I should have!" Theon exclaimed, his pent up frustrations and fears finally bursting forth. "I should have suspected! Just like with Lord Jonos! I didn't notice the signs and he died and now Robb is dead and-"

Brienne was suddenly on her feet and, as much to Theon's surprise as her own, wrapping him in a hug. He struggled for a moment but it was a futile gesture and finally he felt himself calming as she simply forced him to be still.

"There were no signs," she said softly. "I was around Renly more than you were and I never suspected. I pledged my sword to him and was ready to die for him and I never suspected the monster he was. And even then it was not Renly that killed Lord Jonos... not truly. It was a random twisting of fate. The same fickle hand that saw your brothers die but you live during the Siege of Pyke, that saw me made ill and then made strong, that saw his grace survive King's Landing and be crowned. You can't look for signs that weren't there."

"But-"

"And you can't lament that which has no happened. Yes, Robb could be dead... or he could be alive and well and it is some other matter that causes his grace to pause our journey. Perhaps the Eryie has finally decided to march and our leaving would cause havoc. Or the Lannisters agreed to trade for Sir Jaime and this is the final negotiations before the war ends. There could even be secrets and messages we don't know of and that letter from Winterfell was merely the final one in a long chain." She finally let him go and Theon looked up at her. "You must have faith, Theon."

"She is right," an old voice croaked out and Theon turned to see standing in the doorway a whizzed old man. Not the Maester of Riverrun but rather a servant who, perhaps, should have given up his post long ago but did not out of love for the Tullys. "Though perhaps the lesson has come too late... his grace King Eddard seeks your presence. Both of you."

Theon nodded and Brienne moved to go to her room and change into something a bit more appropriate for meeting a king while Theon finished dressing, making sure to take a moment to wash the sweat from his face and hair and splash some scented water onto himself before dressing. His bow he left behind but he did take with him a dagger for while Southerners may have frowned on meeting a king with a blade at the ready men of the North refused to go anywhere unprotected. Brienne, wearing no armor but one of the nicer shirts she owned as well as a pair of calf boots, had her sword at her side; she had clearly decided the North had the right idea of it.

Once, when he was young, he'd been told by… someone, he honestly couldn't remember, perhaps the Maester of Pyke or some servant… that a man's solar should reflect who they were. That when you stepped into that room, the domain of the Lord of the Castle, you should understand at once who they were. That it showed how they ruled, what they valued, and how they treated both enemy and ally. The solar was a physical representation of a man's soul brought into the world for all to see. Theon had thought often of what his own solar would look like and agreed that as he had aged and matured so had his desires. As a child he'd been focused on what would impress others… swords, shields of his enemies, the bones of sea serpents and leviathans. Later, up until the arrival of King Robert in Winterfell, he had wanted to be different from the stuffy lords and make his solar little more than a private brothel with lewd paintings and a place to play dice without having to kneel and wine always on tap. Now? He wanted something that would make warriors fight by his side and bring pride to those that had helped him along the way. He saw a room that was a blend of the sea and of the North… charts of the currents all along Westeros' coast, perhaps a few bows from distant shores, a good desk where he could manage his lands. He was a Bracken now, the first Bracken of the North, and he would not dishonor Lord Jonos or King Stark by being a reckless lord. Where ever he ended up, whatever spot of land he was given, he would see it rise to great heights and have his descendants be proud to call him the founder of their new house.

His father's solar had definitely reflected his soul. It had always been dark, even when the skies were bright (and in Theon's memories his birthplace was always caught in a gray storm), because the windows had been cut wrong and prevented the sun from truly piercing the room. The only true light was the fire that constantly burned but it failed not just when it came to illuminating the great space but also chasing away the chill that seemed to forever hang about room. He remembered how he'd hated going in there as it always felt colder than the rest Pyke. It had been so damp too, with the walls weeping and the furniture coated in a fine sheen so that some brought cloth with them to wipe down their seats. Not his father though; he was too prideful and thus would walk around with a wet ass rather than admit his solar was clammy. Even though the room was in the highest tower of the castle in Theon's mind he always placed it below the waves near the cellars. He also remembered how big it was, made to feel all the larger because of how little filled it. Just some ancient trophies from better days, broken chairs and tables that his father refused to throw out because 'they had history', and a crude map of Pyke that made it the center of the world.

Theon considered that perhaps it was the vagueness of childhood that made him remember it as such, forgetting the good parts of it, but he doubted that.

By contrast King Eddard's solar in Winterfell, back when he had merely been Lord Eddard, had been inviting to all that entered it. White stone that was warm to the touch, plenty of space but not to the point that it felt empty, with maps of the North that had been kept constantly updated by Maester Luwin. Yet… it hadn't felt like it belonged to Lord Eddard. Every time Theon had seen him in there the Lord of Winterfell had looked out of place. Not as an interloper… but rather that he was sitting in a chair that didn't belong to him, waiting for another to come and take what should have been theirs. Over time the feeling had gone away but Theon reasoned that in the man's eyes the solar was his father Rickard Stark's and meant for his brother Brandon. Neither would ever ride from the South to claim it but he was left keeping it ready, should they ever return.

As Theon and Brienne entered Riverrun's solar he was struck by the same feeling as he had when he'd seen Lord Eddard back at Winterfell: the man didn't belong there. And he knew it. The solar of Holster Tully was one dedicated for work but also for his family to relax. Plenty of couches and chairs to sprawl upon, a great large window overlooking the river, old toys lovingly placed on tables long after their owners had outgrown them, paintings of Tullys past lining the walls. But it wasn't Holster Tully that sat to greet them by the King in the North, looking out of place amongst such warmth and Southern hospitality. Queen Catelyn looked more at home, as well she should, but the King sat in the chair trying to hold himself regally but coming off more as impatient to leave the room and never return. It was like finding a block of ice in the middle of Dorne.

"Your grace," Brienne said with a slight bow, Theon mimicking her, a smile tugging at his lips as Queen Catelyn frowned. Women were expected to curtsey but Brienne was no maid but a warrior and a warrior bent at the waist when showing respect to their king.

King Eddard motioned for them to rise. "Now I understand why Robert scowled all the time when people did that." He rubbed his chin and waved his hand towards two chairs that sat in front of the desk. "It hasn't been easy for you two, not knowing what is going on, and I apologize for that. I've needed the time to determine what to do, how to handle the news that came." He glanced at his lady wife before letting out a sigh. "There is no way to put this gently so I will come out and say it: Winterfell was attacked."

Theon went rigid in his chair.

"There was loss of life and that attackers briefly held it under their control but they were driven back. Maester Luwin sent the message," he gestured at a scroll that lay on his desk, "detailing everything. But let me assure you now that Robb is alive." Theon felt himself sinking back into his chair, relief flooding his body, but the king's face did not lose its somberness. "Theon… if it were merely that I would have told you. But there is more."

"Who died?" Theon asked. He knew that Maester Luwin lived but there were others, like Roslin and Jory and Ser Rodrik-

"That is not the problem," Catelyn stated. "It is who led the attack."

Brienne was the one to speak up. "Iron Born."

"Iron Born," Eddard confirmed. Theon grimaced at that but the king shook his head. "You could never have gotten to us in time. They already had men in position and their forces sailed far quicker than you could march. Riverrun would have needed to grow legs and race to you in order for you to have arrived in time to let us know of the danger and allow us to get a message to Robb. We were only able to learn all this because you arrived and my messenger met the one Maester Luwin sent out on the road."

Theon nodded. That was a small comfort but it was better than nothing.

"There… there is more," Catelyn stated and the small sliver of relief he had felt began to whither away. She was showing sympathy to him… she'd never done that. While loving to her children to anyone she saw a threat she was as cold as the Others themselves. The only reason he hadn't faced the brunt of her wrath was that Jon had existed. For her to be showing him kindness… that scared him.

Eddard finally spoke. "The Iron Born were led by your sister, Theon."

Asha.

"Are you alright?" the king asked.

Theon leaned forward, rubbing his forehead. "I'm sorry but… in my mind she is still a child, wearing more mud than clothing. That is who I see leading the Iron Born against Winterfell and it just… it would be like me telling you Rickon had led an army and I had seen him as an adult but you only knew him as a child." He shook his head, trying to banish the visible of his little sister in pigtails and a muddy dress trying to lead an army. "Was she captured?"

"She has escaped North. Maester Luwin states that Robb ordered trackers to find her but he is not hopeful."

Theon didn't know how to feel about that. "But why wait this long to tell me?"

Eddard was prepared to say something only for a crack to fill the air. Theon turned to see that Brienne had snapped off a hunk of Lord Holster's desk, her eyes glowing green as she glared at the King and Queen. "If you dare say you thought him part of that scheme…" Theon quickly reached over and placed a hand on her shoulder, never once looking at the king or queen but rather focusing on her, getting her to pay attention to him and to gather herself. The last thing he wanted was for her to go on a rampage in Riverrun; not because he feared for her safety but because he knew she'd regret it in the end.

"Never," the king said firmly once Brienne had managed to unclench her jaw and actually listen to what he had to say. "Never," he repeated, looking to Theon that time. "I have seen you mature and grow this year, becoming the man I knew you could become. I remember your brothers, Theon, what they were like, and I hope you take it as the highest of compliments that there is nothing in you that reminds me of them. I see Robb in you, and Bran, and Jon."

'You are my son'

It didn't need to be said but the words rang in his mind and Theon smiled at what Eddard was saying without actually voiced it.

"But," the king said, rising from his chair and moving to gaze out the window. That was very much unlike him and Theon began to feel the ice water of the King's beloved North trickle down his spine. "But… your family attacked Winterfell, Theon. Not just the Iron Born… but your blood. And you are here before me."

"…fuck," Theon whispered.

Brienne looked at him and then to the queen. "I don't understand."

It fell to Catelyn to explain. "Theon was not fostered in Winterfell out of kindness. He was brought to us to serve as leverage against his father. He became his father's heir with the death of his brothers and it was known that should Lord Balon rebel again his line would be ended." She looked at Theon but he barely noticed, staring instead of the king's back as the man continued to look out upon the Riverlands below them. "With his sister having attacked Winterfell…"

'Face it like a man,' Theon mentally commanded himself. He squared his shoulders and rose from his chair, head held high and proud. "I am ready. I will not beg, your grace."

Eddard whipped around, eyes wide with shock, just as Brienne leapt from her chair and drew her sword.

"You'll die before the axe falls!" she roared. The guards, which Theon had completely missed in his worry over Robb, drew their own blades but Brienne merely turned, letting loose a snarl low and deep, her muscles beginning to swell all the larger as her rage began to consume her. He could see the seams of her shirt begin to strain and pop as her enchanted blood rushed through her veins.

"Don't!" Theon commanded her, hurrying to place himself between her and the men. "Brienne, don't. Don't."

But she grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him behind her, falling into a protective stance as the guards tensed and readied themselves to launch forward.

"Stop this madness at once!" Eddard bellowed, moving from behind the desk and standing between Brienne and his personal guard. Quick as a flash he had daggers out, pointed at both his guard and Brienne; Theon hadn't even seen him draw them.

"Brienne!" Theon said firmly, sliding back around her and placing a hand on her chest. He could feel her heart thundering in her chest but his touch calmed her and she slowly lowered her sword. Theon looked to Eddard who nodded in approval before speaking, his own daggers disappearing into their sheathes.

"I told Robert I was a poor choice to foster you, Theon. Others pressed for Stannis to take you into his house and Tywin Lannister desired to have control over you. But Robert asked me to do it as he knew Stannis and Tywin would be far too rash and would take your head for the slightest sin… or see you dead from an accident. But I told Robert I was a poor choice… because I knew I'd never be able to kill you, no matter what your family did." His motions slow and his eyes locked on Brienne to make sure she saw that he meant Theon no harm Eddard reached over and clapped him on the shoulder. "But I am not the only one you should fear."

At once Theon understood. "Who has called for you to kill me?"

The king grimaced. "A few men at Winterfell, according to Maester Luwin. Not said in Robb's presence… not after he made clear he'd have the tongue of the next man who threatened you." It warmed Theon's heart that his friend still remained loyal to him. He could see him standing in the Great Hall of Winterfell, silencing some feast and glaring at a serving man who had made the comment a bit too loud before making his own opinion known. "But it is said all the same. There are plenty that lost friends, family, and brothers-in-arms to the Iron Born Raiders and your sister. And those that did not in the raid still remember your father's rebellion and loathe that he was not punished for his actions and see this now as an excuse to have their revenge."

He let go of Theon and walked back to his desk, the guards returning to a ready stance. "I called the Small Council together, along with trusted friends, to decide how we might deal with such thoughts. I had hoped to decide where you might be settled, perhaps give you command of some of our forces to rebuild a village and earn some good will that I could report to Winterfell. But instead I came to discover the whispers were not limited to Winterfell." He clenched his hand into a fist. "I will not name who among my own Small Council demanded your death. Nor the lords that they said asked for the same. You can guess them easily enough."

'Bolton,' Theon thought darkly to himself. 'And the Blackwoods.' He had hoped that his lie would help ease the tensions between his new House and their ancient enemies but it seemed that the peace between them had only been fleeting. As for others he had a few guesses… the Karstarks possibly, due to their holding of grudges. There were a few others but he'd need to think on that. And, perhaps, seeing how Brienne was still struggling to control herself, it was wise to keep such names to himself.

"How can they do that?" Brienne snapped. "He renounced his father and his house and all it stood for!"

"But for some such things can never be renounced," Catelyn stated with a sad shake of her head. "There is a saying in the Riverlands, "A dog may shed its hair, may learn to swim, and never walk on the land again… but it will never be a fish"."

"Foolishness," Brienne snapped.

"But she is correct, all the same," Theon said quietly.

Eddard finally turned to face him. "Robb has requested that I return to Winterfell. He says that developments have come about that can only be spoken of in person. But this has created a new issue. I can not bring you with me Theon, for demands would be made for me to take your head and with me separated from our armies I can not risk appearing weak. If I go against my duty, despite whatever reasons I give, there will be those that will consider turning to the Lannisters. But…" he grimaced, "you can not remain here."

Catelyn spoke then. "My father passed two days ago. We have kept it quiet because of the call to return to Winterfell and the Iron Born." There was a slight quiver in her voice but like a true Queen she did not let her tears fall. "Edmure is the Lord of the Riverlands. But like Ned his hold on his power is tenuous. Too many remember the boy he was and not the man I know he can be. If you were to stay here he would be forced by some lord to do what Ned will not…" Brienne brought her foot down hard and the room shook slightly, "…or try and I would ask you not to destroy my family home, Brienne. I have fond memories of it."

"Then what is the answer?" Brienne managed to get out. "Exile?"

"No," the king said. "A task. One that will see you prove yourself to all that doubt your commitment to the North, Theon, and also keep you away from those that would harm you until tempers cool." He picked up a piece of parchment from the desk. "The Iron Bank of Braavos has contacted us, wishing to speak of debts and payments. The Lannisters, I am told by my Master of Whispers, have been contacted as well and will be sending a representative of their own. We must meet with them first, to prove our case and receive favorable terms. The Iron Bank must hear that our cause is just and our position stronger than Joffrey's. Only then will we receive fair terms; the Iron Bank will play both sides but not equally. If they believe the war to fall to the Lannister side the loans we must take out will destroy us completely. We do not have the wealth of the Lannisters but if we can prove that our standing is firmer things will change. We must also ensure that the debts Robert forced upon the Seven Kingdoms do not affect the new Northern Kingdom. The Lannisters will do all they can to lessen the burden and we must see that we do not pay for the tourneys and feasts of plump Southern lords.

"I have decided to send Lord Manderly to Braavos to negotiate with the Iron Bank and you and Brienne will go with his party. I trust Lord Manderly greatly and he knows that you are not your father. You will be safe with him and his men; he is selecting only the most loyal of mens." He paused. "This isn't merely me sending you off, Theon. You saw Stannis and Renly's forces. You understand better than anyone I have what their forces are. Even with Renly's disappearance there is the knowledge of the Tyrell forces, now that they have sided with Joffrey. This is knowledge that can sway them to our side."

He knew that what King Eddard was saying was true. He also knew the man was lying and this was all about getting him far away from Westeros until cooler heads could prevail and if it weren't the Iron Bank it would have been something else he was tasked to do. But it also meant saving his life and he couldn't find himself to hate the man for doing so.

'Many lords would have killed me already,' he thought. 'And if I had been a Stark and sent to my father… I would have died within a month.'

So he lifted his chin and said with determination, "When do we leave, your grace?"