AN: This chapter took longer then normal (hahaha, me having a 'normal' writing time, pfff), mostly because I've not been around to write anything, and I've started to do something that I've never done for any fanfics before - outlines for the story, characters, et cetera.

Also, interludes are going to be used quite often, mostly because Theon is only one perspective on what's been happening in the story, and he only has a 90° view. More then other characters for sure, but that isn't enough in my opinion to guarantee a whole story on his POV.

Options and Opportunities

Chapter V

Enemy

It had been nearly five months since Asha had disappeared, and no progress had been made beyond the remains of wildling camps, and occasional skirmishes with said wildlings. It was frustrating beyond belief, and now, I've been starting to believe that Asha had wanted to disappear, and become a wildling.

There had been no wildlings beyond that fateful skirmish on the road, so how could she have not gotten to Winterfell? And all of the Free Folk had fled north when I had killed their leader, not north-west to Winterfell.

It was practically impossible that she could have gotten lost - the road to Winterfell was clear enough, and I didn't even know the geography of the North! Which I did mediate as soon as I could, with great assistance from Maester Luwin, but that's beside the point.

I shook my head, as I splashed some water on my face to wake me up. Jon and Robb had asked why I did that morning ritual, and I merely said that it was a custom from the Iron Islands. Which it was but only if you were a disciple of the Drowned God, which I wasn't. And even then, I'm not sure about that.

They wouldn't check anyway - those two hung on nearly my every word. It was why I made a concentrated effort to take out my frustration on Ser Rodrik Cassel whenever he was available to spar, who had been incredibly helpful in making me a better swordsman, which was one of the most important assets that I had at the moment.

I did have a plan after all, for when the War of the Five Kings starts, after all. Being one of those kings was a much better position then hostage, in my opinion, even if I did want to ally myself with whoever was the King in the North. Hopefully Ned, but I'd take Robb too.

The only problem was shadow assassins, but if my prediction fell through, I don't think that is going to be a problem. Stannis didn't need his ace in the hole, Melisandre, since he had the forces of the Stormlands at his heel, and what remained of the Iron Fleet.

All I prayed for, was that Balon cocked something up when he had to reconstruct the Iron Islands, for if not, he would have way more support then I would. Even if I did prey on his past mistakes, there were far too many variables for me to be comfortable with my attempted kingship plans. To be honest, I wasn't even sure if I wanted to be king - those people have a tendency to die in rather brutal ways, and I wasn't even sure if the Isles would recover from the loss of the Iron Fleet, which would make them essentially worthless in a war situation.

A few extra thousand men, which wasn't enough to assure a war, especially the war that came afterward.

I shook my head from thoughts of the future - canon had already changed once, why wouldn't other things change?

The waters were getting choppier and there is no port in sight, was a saying I could get behind at the moment. Even if it didn't exist.

I moved from the springs, and eventually found my room, changing from my bedclothes, to a thick wool shirt, and a pair of trousers - or breeches, I should probably start saying. The first month here was pretty tough, even from my childhood living in the French mountains, but I got used to it. Mostly by nearly always wearing socks to bed, but that's beside the point...

"Theon!" Robb said to me, as I exited my room. "You finished your morning ritual?"

"Have you, Robb, have you." I corrected absently, ignoring his scowl as I nodded. "Where's Jon and Sansa?"

"Jon's been reading about your namesake, and Sansa's still sleeping." He replied.

"My namesake?" I asked, blinking.

"Theon Stark, the Hungry Wolf." He elaborated, with a raised eyebrow.

"Huh. Don't think my father thought of that as he named me..."

"You know of him?"

"Yeah. He's the King in the North who repelled the Andal invasion, and expelled my ancestors from Bear Island and Cape Kraken." I recited, even as Robb gave me an exasperated look for my need to explain every little history thing that I knew.

"So, when you return to the Isles, you'll try to conquer us huh?" Robb asked, with a small grin.

"Probably." I returned, with a small smirk. "And then I'll be brutally killed by your sons."

"Well, somebody has to wipe that smirk off your face." The future Warden (or King) of the North retorted, not even bothering to consider that I wasn't joking like he had during my first month here. He knew that I was joking by now.

Our, to put it bluntly, brotherly walk continued towards Maester Luwin's office, which had calmed down from the last time we had gone there. Mostly, because of a training accident, and Jon had bloodied Robb's nose. I had a feeling that having to say it was an accident, was a disservice to Jon and Robb's friendship.

Luckily, Lady Stark had been distracted with little Sansa, which was starting to make me suspicious of the number of Stark children at the moment. If I remembered my timelines right, wasn't Arya supposed to be born by now?

Had something happened? Maybe. I definitely wasn't friendly with the Lady of the manor, due to my fast friendship with Jon, but it was cause for concern. Mostly due to lack of heirs - only Jon could inherit if Robb died unexpectedly, and even then, that was only if he was legitimized, or the North recognized him as a Stark.

Sansa could as well, but I had a suspicion that the North would prefer Jon if they were at war - the boy was pretty good at swordsmanship for his age, and he was pretty keen on anything even related to tactics and strategy. Something had changed relative to canon - Jon had never been this motivated if my knowledge of the books was still up to scratch. To be honest, Jon had never been one of my favorite characters until ADWD, where he had truly started to shine. To me, at least.

"My lords! Come in, come in." Luwin said as we knocked on the door. It wouldn't do to come in unannounced.

"So, how's the history going?" I asked with Jon explaining gleefully what he had been studying. I had always been willing to talk with the poor guy, but thankfully, it was getting better for him - mostly because unlike canon, I didn't try to be a dick to him, unlike Theon.

And I made sure to visibly reassure him whenever Catelyn got into her 'Southern' opinions on bastards. Admittedly, some Northern lords and ladies were right, well, bastards about it too.

"Milords!" A man yelled, bursting through the open doors. "A free folk attack on the walls, the Lord wants you to be in the hall right now!"

Jon and Robb looked bewildered, and I hastily grabbed their wrists, leading the two boys with me, following the man with his furs and sword at his hip. "Your name, ser?" I asked, trying to make this stressful situation less stressful.

"I'm er, Norell." The man said as we exited the room. "And I ain't no ser, southerner."

I narrowed my eyes and stopped. Not at the perceived insult. This man's leather armor was roughly put on, in a hurry, probably. That sword was also just as hastily put in its sheath. "You're a wildling, aren't you, Norell?"

"Theon-" Maester Luwin tried to say but was interrupted.

"What makes you say that?" He said, suddenly becoming challenging - just as they were in the books.

"You stole a man's leathers and stole his sword. You're trying to kidnap us - lead us to whoever awaits us beyond." I continued, looking at his body - he didn't look comfortable in those leathers either.

"Oh, so you're a fucking guard now, eh, kneeler?" Norell sneered roughly, as he started pulling a roughly made dagger from his trousers. I slowly backed away, desperately glancing around for something to defend myself.

Managing to throw myself back to avoid the thrust, I smashed my fist against his stomach. Backing up further, I hastily grabbed the knife-

An impact, and then I was on the floor as he loomed over me, seemingly swaying. A sudden cry of action and Jon kicked the side of the man's bent knees, sending him crashing to the floor.

I lashed out wildly with my knife.

Norell gurgled, blood leaking from his throat, and I pushed it even further, realizing that I had struck his throat, as he tried to stab me, only for him to be stomped on by Jon, who looked downright wolfish as he glared down at the wildling.

I hastily stood up, staring at the corpse and his mangled throat, my knife nearly going through it in a gory sight. "Thanks, Jon."

He stopped glaring at the wildling to look slightly disturbed at the carnage, "do-" before seemingly stomping it down with a shake of his head. "Don't worry 'bout it."

"We need to find Sansa and Lady Catelyn," I decided, ignoring Robb's terrified, shell-shocked look. "Where would they be, Jon?"

"In the solar, with guards." He said, sounding grim. "I hope."

"Maester Luwin," I started to say, as the old man turned to me, with narrowed brows. "Barricade your room, whilst I and Jon try to find Sansa and Catelyn."

"What-what about me?" Robb tried to say straightly but stuttered at the fear coursing through him.

I felt a bit of sympathy for the boy but squashed it. "You're the heir. Stay with Luwin, help him barricade the door. Please, Robb."

"I-i... Okay." He said, before nodding, turning his head away.

I turned to pilfer the man's dagger and sword, only to find Jon handing me the sword and taking the dagger.

"I'm coming with you, Theon." The Bastard of Winterfell said, seriously, barely even looking at the corpse. "I can't let you go by yourself."

"I-" I tried to say, but it was obvious Jon would be far too stubborn. "Okay, but we are going to avoid fights."

"I can't let you go, my lords," Luwin said, with a forlorn look in his gaze as he looked to me and then, Jon.

"Duty tells me to keep Lady Catelyn and Lady Sansa safe, and we may be too late," I replied.

"That is why I am not trying to force you." He continued, acting as if he never heard me, sadness in his voice. "Please spare me the grief of losing my charges. Can you promise me that?"

"I-i... I can." I said, water in my eyes before I tried squashing my emotions. I turned around, entering the hall with Jon at my side, hearing activity behind it as I closed the door.

"Where we going?" I commanded, without any hesitation.

"Father's solar is to the west," Jon replied, as we ran through the halls, eventually arriving in front of the solar.

"Lady Catelyn, it's us, Theon and Jon! Robb's safe with Maester Luwin!" I called.

"Prove it." I heard the slightly panicked voice of the Lady of Winterfell say. "How can I tell that it's you?"

I wracked my brain, but Jon beat me to the punch. "Sansa's first word was 'Robb', and her second was 'Jon', milady."

Momentary silence, before a child's voice rose from behind the door. "Jon-jon?"

"Shh, shh," Catelyn whispered quickly before her voice became hard. "Bastard, Greyjoy. Find my husband and help him push back the wildlings."

Her voice cracked a tiny bit, desperation seeping through. "I can at least trust you to do that, bastard? Can I?"

"Yes, milady," Jon replied, with a tiny bit of warmth. For Sansa's sake, I guessed. "I swear by the Old Gods."

I looked at the bastard, and we both nodded at each other. We ran towards the courtyard, where the main fighting seemed to be happening and saw total and utter chaos - but the wildlings were on the back foot, and seemed to be less and less with each swing of the Stark bannermen's swords.

Eventually, they tried to flee, but they were quickly culled by precise shots from the men from the battlements.

Only a few remained, and they quickly surrendered.

"Send them to the dungeons," Eddard Stark's voice rose. "We shall see to justice after I've checked after my family."

"Yes, milord!" They all shouted with respect obvious in their tone.

"You shall be rewarded for your quick service in defending Winterfell accordingly," he continued, before motioning to a blond-haired man with grey eyes next to him. "Ask Commander Ralt for more details."

"Alright, you mongrels..." The blond-haired man said, with a smirk on his lips, as the Lord of Winterfell turned to us, his worry visible on his long face. He quickly hurried towards us, grabbing Jon in a fierce hug, and patting me on the shoulder.

"Lady Catelyn and Sansa are in your solar, and Robb and Luwin are in the study," I said, after giving Jon a quiet moment with his dad. "Somebody posed as a worried guard, and tried to lead us out of the keep to his 'King'."

"Is he alive or dead?" The Lord asked, detaching himself from his bastard son.

"Dead," I said, grimly. "His corpse is with Luwin. He nearly killed us all when Jon helped me kill him. I apologize my lord, but Robb saw it all."

"I see." Ned Stark said, a frown on his face.

"Theon isn't going to be punished, is he?" Jon asked, concernedly. Nice to know that whilst Jon is way more ruthless then before, he still cares for people.

"I would never punish somebody for defending themselves against murderers, Theon is no exception just because my heir witnessed it." He explained to Jon, who merely nodded in agreement.

"My lord," I said, deciding that forthrightness was the best way to deal with a Stark. "I believe that a traitor may be within the guards of Winterfell. It is the only thing that explains how a wildling got the leather jerkin of the House Stark bannermen and a normal iron sword."

The Lord of Winterfell's eyes hardened. "I shall deal with this. Return to Robb and Maester Luwin, I shall be with my wife. You may all come soon afterward."

I nodded and quickly left to get Robb, as my thoughts started whirling.

What in the name of God had happened there? A full-on attempted assault on Winterfell?

This was going to escalate in another war. The Free Folk had been a blight on the North for centuries, and this was just adding petrol to the fire, so to speak.

To attack the Warden of the North... What was their plan? What was this puzzle piece that I was missing?

I sighed, and continued to Robb and Maester Luwin with Jon at my side, stormy snows booming from above.

That was rather poetic of me - because Robert Baratheon wasn't going to let the wildlings attack his foster brother, never in his lifetime.

AN: I am convinced that if Ned had just fought off an attack like that, on his own home, he'd be quite affectionate with his family when he saw them - especially so soon after battle.

Yes, I am making things more fucked up then canon, even if indirectly - the Free Folk really did fuck up this time.

(also, ((!spoiler warning!)) the king may not be Mance. Just saying.)

Theon did nearly die there - that wildling was merely a swing away from killing him. Jon really did save him from a dagger there.

Jon is far more ruthless in this story then in canon - which is mostly due to Theon making him read up on the old Kings of Winter who were pretty pragmatic and ruthless, but more importantly, they got shit done, and most of them were good kings. (don't verify that, I only know of a few of them)

He definitely isn't going to be the same Jon as in canon, especially with the amount of fighting he's going to be seeing. Oops. Spoilers.