Oh gosh well I truly don't know where to start! Thank you so much to Eidolon02 for your amazing review, it caused me to write this chapter and post it on the same day that the last one went up! Now a small disclaimer for this chapter. To be honest I don't know if Theon is entirely in character for this chapter but I just kind of wrote it without really thinking about it. And Theon becomes such a vicious man in 'A Clash of Kings' anyway and I thought that that type of behavior couldn't just pop up unannounced, he must of had the tendency to be slightly horrid before he took over Winterfell in the later book. Sorry about this large Author Note but I thought I should just clarify it. Thank you so much for the follows and the favourites. I'm going to see if I can update at least once a day for the next week, but I'm not keeping any promises!

So please keep on reviewing and doing what you're doing!

Slightlynerdy.

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter Four.

Bran had been the person to see the first lines of the King's Party come up the King's Road. They were slow moving for amongst them was a sort of rolling house, which she had been told was where the Queen and her two youngest children; Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen resided throughout the long journey from King's Landing to Winterfell. The stream of horses and carts stretched far as they eye could see as she and Bran stood beside one another in one of the watchtowers that surrounded the walls of Winterfell, their wolves sat between them. This watchtower was quite close to the castle, so that they wouldn't be late for when the King actually arrived.

"Look that must be one of the Kingsguard, he's wearing a white cloak." Bran pointed at a speck of a man who was cresting one of the hills. Bran had sharper eyes then her, that was sure.

"Do you see the banners Bran?" She decided to test him, he knew of course the crowned stag of the Baratheons but strangely enough a yellow ripple of silk flew in the air as well, the banner of the Lannisters.

"Crowned Stag, Baratheons, and the yellow must be for the Queen's house, the Lannisters." She nodded, telling him silently that he was right, several moments passed as they continued to gaze out across the landscape, before Bran broke it with his curious questioning. "Theon told me that he wants to marry you Tarynn. Is it true? Did he ask you to be his wife?"

She looked down at her brother, whose eyes were still trailing the King's entourage. She had spoken to Theon earlier, courteously telling him that he wouldn't be getting an answer for his proposal until after the King had departed from Winterfell. He had asked her why and…

"I just don't feel that I'm in the correct state of mind to give you an answer yet, when I've had a chance to mull it over, I will then give you your answer."

"But a whole week? You need a whole week to decide."

"Yes."

"Fine, I think I can handle the wait. Just remember that this union will benefit both of our houses, at least take that into consideration when you consider me."

I'm sure the whores will speed along the waiting for you.

She was brought back out of her memories when she realised that Bran was staring up at her, "Yes. Yes he did ask for my hand."

"What did you say?" He swung his leg over the window ledge, sitting as if he was astride a horse, his feet dangling free, his attentions back on the line of soldiers, knights and servants.

"I didn't, I asked for time in order to contemplate his offer."

"Oh… Mother says that marriage is tricky. Maybe once your married things will be different, Theon's nice, and he's always helping me with my bow."

"I'm thinking about it Bran."

"Sansa thinks you're lucky, that Theon is giving you so much attention, and she says that Theon is handsome… Look a raven!"

Bran slipped from off the window ledge but not towards her, rather towards the huge drop.

"Bran!"

His voice was muffled when he responded, "I'm climbing down Tarynn. I've never fallen once, I'm fine."

She peered over the edge of the window sill; she could just about see the top of Bran's head as he swung down and around the tower. Once he was out of her sight she too began to make her way to the solid ground of the earth. She ran down the stairs, which were old and rotting, and every step she took the whole structure would creak. There was a small bark and Tome sprinted down past her, his tongue lolling in his mouth, close behind was Bran's wolf, who Bran still had not given a name to.

When she reached the ground she darted through the trees, holding her skirts up so she did not trip. Bran was ahead of her, his laughing coming out between distorted breaths, his direwolf hot on his heels. They had grown larger over the past three days; Tome now came up to her knee. She ducked beneath a low hanging branch and burst into the yard, almost colliding with Jory Cassel but he managed to side step just in time. She caught Bran as he ran into a corner, not realising he had nowhere else to run. She picked him up from under the arms and whirled him in the air, just like she had done with Rickon. He giggled, gasping her name throughout.

"Tarynn!"

She stopped spinning and pulled him close, the bubbles of laughing subsiding as she hugged her little brother tightly. She kissed the top of his head, his smooth hair brushing against her lips. "Go tell Mother and Father that the King is near, an honour guard should ride out to meet him." She settled him back on the ground.

"I will," He ran towards the Castle, his companion following him all the way.

She smoothed out her skirts and moved her braid so that it fell to the middle of her back, and not on her shoulder. Once she had righted herself she looked up, Theon was lounging against a wooden column that held up the roof of the small smithy that was in the yard. He caught her eye and grinned but she ducked her head, not wanting him to start a conversation.

"Tarynn, have you seen Robb?" Her mother's voice crested the air and so she looked up, "I'm glad you chose that dress, it look's pretty on you."

Tarynn looked down at the dark blue fabric of her dress. She wore a slip of white fabric around her neck to keep it protected from the cold and her fur cloak on her shoulders. The dress itself was high necked, plain, with a few seams and darts to show off her curviness, the skirt fell to the floor, where it dragged in the dirt.

"Thank you Mother, and no I haven't. The last I saw him was when he and Jon were going to have their hair cut and beards shaved."

"Oh, in that case could you ask Theon? I have to prepare Bran, Arya and Rickon. To make sure they know where they're standing. It will be in age order by the way, but Robb is to stand next to your father, you are to be in between Robb and Sansa. Reason being is that Robb is to be Lord of Winterfell after your father so it is only fitting that he stands beside him. "

She nodded, and took her mother's hands in her own. "Stop being so flustered, everything will go smoothly."

"But that Lannister woman that Robert married…"

"She will just have to grow accustomed to the ways of the North, this is our land not hers. And we shouldn't have to put on such a show just to please her." She kissed her mother's cheek, "Don't worry, I'll find Robb."

She left her mother and warily approached Theon, who straightened from his slouched position when she neared him.

"Theon have you seen Robb? You were with him when he was having his hair cut yes?"

"He said something about going to the Godswood, do you wish me to accompany you?" His eyes glinted, as if daring her to turn him down and she was on the verge of doing just that, if her mother had not interrupted.

"Yes Theon, that's a very kind gesture. And if Tarynn went on her own she would only get side tracked by something. Wouldn't you?"

Tarynn gave her mother a pointed look, and sighed, "Yes."

Theon gestured towards the Godswood, "After you." His unnerving grin settled on his face once again. She walked at a quick pace, but Theon and his long legs had no trouble keeping up, "I was wondering what would be the name of our firstborn, I was thinking Balon after my father…"

She whirled on him, pointing her finger at his face, "You go too far Theon, constantly. I reject your marriage proposal. There I said it. Why don't you ask one of your whores to marry you instead? Marry twelve of them for all I care, but I will not be another notch on your bedpost even if I was your wife. Never ever!" The look on his face changed from confusion, to rejection, to anger all in a manner of seconds. His trademark grin turned into a snarl and he gripped her wrist so tightly she thought it might bruise, "Theon… please…"

"No one rejects me." He gripped harder and tears started to fill the corners of her eyes. "No one…"

"Theon? Tarynn? Is that you?"

What happened next passed in a blur, she heard Robb's voice calling out and Theon did too, he was still gripping her arm and she was struggling to break free, "Ro…" Theon's other hand clamped down on her mouth cutting off her shout. He twisted them around so that her back was against the tree and released the hold he had on her arm. He leaned in close; his hand still clamped over her mouth and looked into her eyes.

"No one rejects me." He grinned again before removing his hand from her face only to smother her scream with his mouth. She pushed against him, struggling against his hold but he was insistent, pushing her even further into the tree, his lips rough against her own. His tongue trying to force its way into her mouth, she pushed her lips together, denying him access. His hand rested on her waist, dragging her closer to him as he got into the kiss. His own eyes were closed, but Tarynn's were wide open. When she realised that she could in no way push Theon away she went rigid, unmoving as Theon continued forcibly kissing her. When he had finished, she remained quiet. Not wanting to provoke him into kissing her again.

"Now…" He placed a hand against the trunk of the tree, "I think you might want to rethink your decision." His voice was full of his original cockiness, no trace of anger remained. She didn't say a word.

She pushed past him, "Robb!" And disappeared between the trees, leaving her 'betrothed' leaning against the tree, grinning from ear to ear.

If I had a knife I would slice that smile from off his face.

Dark thoughts coursed through her mind as she stood between Robb and Sansa, waiting for the King and his entourage to arrive in the yard.

Who does he even think he is? That… bastard. Does he just think that I'll accept him? Without as much as a fight?

She looked down at her wrist and at the pale skin which now had small bruises covering it from where Theon had gripped it. Somewhere behind her he stood, looking like the cat that got the cream, bragging to all his disgusting friends how he had finally got Tarynn Stark to kiss him. She felt the urge to turn round and punch him in his stupid smiling face.

A horse whinnied and the cart wheels grew louder. She pushed the thoughts aside; she would just have to avoid this intended union like it was a plague. Instead she focused her attention on the glamorous entrance of the King of Westeros, a couple of men wearing snow white cloaks rode in first, escorting a sort of house on wheels.

"That's Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer." Arya's thin voice drifted through the air.

A tall man with yellow hair was the first of the Southerners to ride into their home, he was handsome sure, but there was something generic about him, as if he was born to be a knight. He had the perfect look, the perfect amount of masculinity, he was rather too perfect.

Sansa gave a retort, "Shut up."

The King himself rode into the yard then, and by the Gods was he fat. She felt truly sorry for his horse. His hair was thick and black as a raven's feather but it had begun to grey slightly, which betrayed his age. He wore a crimson doublet, his house sigil of a crowned stag stitched on it. Behind him more guards spilled into the yard, along with a slender boy with golden hair.

That must be Joffrey then.

She watched his eyes as they glanced over the line of Starks, she swore they lingered on Sansa for a moment longer, and her assumption was proven to be true when she glanced at Sansa's face. Robb must've seen it too, for when Tarynn looked at Robb they shared a knowing look.

Behind the golden boy came a man with a helmet shaped into that of a snarling hound on his head. It intrigued her.

"That's the hound," Came Arya's whisper, this time Sansa was too busy making moon shaped eyes at Joffrey to shut her sister up.

Tarynn's eyes lingered on the man that Arya had identified as the hound. He was large, but not in a fat way, but more of an imposing, strong, burly way. She watched as he reached up and yanked the snout of his helmet apart.

The King dismounted and as if everyone shared the same mental link, the entirety of the Stark household knelt, and bowed their heads, respectful of their King. Her interest in the Hound lost, and her curiosity of him had disappeared.

She heard the sound of heavy footsteps, and then a pause before there was a squeak of leather. Her father began to rise and she followed suit, realising that there was now a nice mud splatter all across the front of her dress from having to kneel in on the wet dirt. She would have to get the dress cleaned.

"Ned." The King stepped forward clapping her father on his arm, "How long has it been? And you never once visited me."

"You had the South to guard, I have the North." Her father grinned, his face lining even more.

"The King moved on first to her mother, "Cat." He kissed her cheek.

"You're Grace."

He ruffled Rickon's hair, who stood beside their mother. The King laughed, deep and jolly. He then moved onto the rest of the Stark children.

"And who is this?"

The King cast a searching look over Robb, "I'm Robb, your Grace."

"Heir to Winterfell. You have a determined look about you my lad." Robb nodded at the compliment but didn't say anything else.

He's trying to look stronger and older than he is.

The King then moved onto her, as he stepped closer she could smell the stench of wine on him, "And you are?"

"Tarynn, your Grace."

"Tarynn… Ah, the bookworm, yes your father writes to me about your academic exploits. How many tongues do you speak?"

"Three."

"Two more than I do," He laughed before moving onto Sansa, Arya and Bran.

"My, you're a pretty one."

The King's jests with Bran about being a knight faded when the Queen stepped out of her moving home. She was tall, slender and very beautiful. She had bright gold hair that flowed over her back. With her were two small children, the Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen. Both had hair the colour of sunshine, they did not look a thing like the man who had sired them.

The Queen approached Eddard Stark and held out her hand expectantly, Ned took it, "My Lady." He kissed her hand and released it where she slid it beneath the fabric that she was using to keep her hands from becoming frostbitten.

"Take me to the tomb Ned; I want to pay my respects for the dead."

Queen Cersei's voice was soft and elegant, "We've been riding for a month my dear…"

The King ignored her, instead gesturing to Ned to lead him to where the remains of the past Starks were buried, "Ned."

When her father left the line of people who had amassed in front of Winterfell Castle the rest dispersed. Her mother led the Queen and her children away, most likely to show them their quarters, and Robb went to greet Prince Joffrey, not without asking herself to accompany him.

"Please Tarynn; I dare not ask Sansa for she will just stare at him with her mouth hanging open." She had consented, partly because she didn't want her brother to stick his foot in it, and partly because of the tall man who stood next to the King, the Hound. But then her brother called another name and her whole body froze, "Theon!"

Theon was almost to where they stood in the middle of the yard when Tarynn regained her composure, "Why did you call Theon over here?"

"He is the last remaining son of the Greyjoy line, and heir to the Iron Islands. He wanted to make a good impression on the Prince. That boy will be our King throughout our lifetimes Tarynn."

Robb had sound logic but her stomach knotted in discomfort, especially when Theon moved to stand beside her instead of beside Robb. Now, knowing what he was capable of doing, his very presence made her feel ill. They approached Joffrey and his Hound.

"Prince Joffrey, I am Robb Stark heir of Winterfell. Welcome to our home."

"Well met, your home…" The boy looked around, scorn of the place evident in his eyes, "Is satisfactory."

She could feel Robb bristling from the boy's statement and so she placed a hand on his arm, to calm him somewhat.

"How was your ride my Prince?" Theon's voice made her stomach churn.

"Uneventful… We poached some rabbits off your land," His comment was intended towards Robb, "I hope you don't mind. But then again why should you when it is my father who owns all of Westeros." He turned his attention back to Theon, never once did his eyes linger on Tarynn. "And who are you again?"

"Theon Greyjoy, heir to the Iron Islands." Theon grinned.

"Iron Islands, did your brothers not get slain by Lord Eddard? Funny that you're warded with the man who killed your family." Theon looked down at the ground, before looking back up, the grin gone. Instead it was replaced with a stony look. "Hound, I must find my mother, I need to change before we feast." He directed his next sentence towards the three people who had come to greet him, "A good day to you."

The boy smirked, before walking off; his Dog trailing him.

"Theon are you alright? Don't listen to the little prick."

Theon looked at Robb, and then to Tarynn, she felt she should say something. She had never seen Theon so… taken a back, not in a rejection sort of way but in a more he's finally realised that his predicament, about living with the man who had ordered the deaths of his brothers, was ridiculous. He had just been outright insulted by the future King of Westeros. Her voice was soft, as she mumbled her next words.

"Yes, don't listen to him Theon."

This time when Theon leaned in towards her she didn't move out of the way, he had just been insulted by a thirteen year old boy, even though a small part of her relished that he had been knocked down a little bit she didn't really want to see Theon mocked for his situation. He didn't cause what happened he was a mere boy of ten when he had been taken from his home to be warded in Winterfell. When his lips touched her cheek, the violence that he had used against her earlier couldn't be found in the kiss that he left her with. He turned from them, storming off. She was left with her brother in the middle of the yard. Theon's kiss felt like it was tainting her, spreading through her body like poison. She brushed away the feeling of his kiss with her hand, a childish act.

All the kindness in the world won't make me forgive him for the way he treated me in the Godswood. I should have told father what had transpired between us.

But she hadn't, mainly because she was ashamed with how she was dealing with the situation. But she didn't know how to handle the prospect of marriage, or anything to do with it. It just wasn't for her.

"I feel sorry for Theon." Robb turned abruptly, not allowing her to speak. His words had a double meaning, she knew.

Theon's his closest friend; he doesn't like the fact that I don't reciprocate his feelings, that I'm pushing him away.

She looked after Robb as he walked away. He would soon be a man grown, how the years have flown by.

The feast was nearing; the majority of Winterfell would be drinking and eating within the castle walls. She had dressed appropriately for the evening, a tight fitting gown of silver, it had a sweetheart neckline and wrapped around her tightly. She had been forced into it be Gerta, and was also not allowed to wear her favourite boots. As she sat at her desk, Gerta fussing over her hair she gazed out of the window.

The sun had set and glowing torches had been lit to cast light across the yard, a couple of servants flittered back and forth, laden down with things for the feast that was close to commencing.

"A copper for your thoughts?" Gerta's soft voice lulled her out of her daydream, "You seem preoccupied."

"It's just…"

"You don't have to say it Tarynn. I know it's Theon who has put you in such a downcast mood, I saw you and him in the yard today, and he certainly is full of himself."

Her maid placed the brush on the table and begun braiding her hair, her fingers quick as she gently pulled the strands of hair into place, "I don't want to marry him Gerta."

"I know you don't, you always seem so… tense around him. You don't fully relax in his company, me and my Jed… Ah but that's a different relationship."

"There's no love between us, our marriage would be one for convenience. Just to strengthen ties between our houses. It's a diplomatic one." She turned in her chair to face her beloved friend, "You're so lucky you have Jed."

Gerta smiled softly, "You'll find the man of your dreams soon, and I'm sure."

"Yes, but in the meantime I have to rid myself of Theon."

"You're clever, you'll think of something."

There was a knock at the door, and Gerta went to answer it, it was her father.

"Gerta, would you leave us for a moment?"

"Of course my Lord." Gerta dipped her head and left the room, pulling the door shut.

Lord Stark stood in the middle of his oldest daughter's chamber, "The King has offered me the position of Hand of the King, as I'm sure you know."

She had heard, through her mother whilst she was helping her coax Rickon to have a bath. Her mother had spoken rather heatedly about it.

"I have heard father, are you going to accept?"

"I don't know how I could not, Robert has asked me to help and it has always been the duty of the Starks to help the King."

He moved to stand next to the other window in Tarynn's room, she stood, pushing her chair under her desk.

"When will you be leaving?"

"The day after tomorrow. The Queen is anxious to return to King's Landing so they have shortened their stay considerably…" Her father directed his gaze at her, "Your sisters will be accompanying me, as will you."

Tarynn registered the words quickly, a smile gracing her features. "Truly father? I will be able to go to King's Landing?"

"Yes."

"But what of… Theon?"

"I know you have no wish to marry him, I am not going to force you into it, I don't want you to live your whole life unhappy with it. Consider this as an escape."

She rushed towards her father and he laughed, accepting her into his arms. "Thank you father, so much."

"You really dislike him that much?" He laughed again, "I must go, before your mother skins me alive for being late."

She nodded, and he moved to leave but a thought crossed her mind, "Father the news that you were going to give us a few days ago?"

"It no longer matters Tarynn, circumstances have changed and so now that news is obsolete…" He opened the door and called out to Tarynn's handmaid, "Gerta you can come back in now. I'll see you at the feast Tarynn."

When her father had left Tarynn stretched out her arms and laughed breathlessly.

"Good news?"

Before Tarynn could answer there was another knock at the door, Gerta opened it once more, revealing Maester Luwin.

"Tarynn I was wondering if you were kind enough to accompany me to the… Why you look like you've just been given a full library of books." Maester Luwin repeated what Gerta had said only moments before, "Good news?"

"Amazing news, I'm going to King's Landing."