So. I am a new writer, and this is my first series. This is probably going to suck, but I am going to try and actually write.
Chapters in future will be quite a bit longer.
Everything not original is from GRRM's original work. Support it or Gregor Clegane will feed you roast Goat.
300 AC
Death came as a shock to Theon.
He hit the ground, hard, and as his vision went from white to red in an instant. Then it went black. He remembered thinking that he was confused, he was in pain, he was quite cold, but a different sort of cold than that of which he had experienced over his years (Living in Winterfell for 9 was when he felt the coldest).
Ah. So I'm dead.
At this point, he was past caring. He was safe in the knowledge that he and Jeyne had escaped Ramsay Bolton. Snow, I'm dead and I died as Theon, I can call him Snow. Was he dead? He remembered that Maester Luwin remembered of a lecture taught by a Myrish scholar at the Citadel: "You cannot be dead if you can think" Maester Luwin said that he was so confused about how obvious this was and was paused in contemplation for a minute. It had the same effect on Theon, as, in the throes of contemplation, slipped on a stone when he was sparring with Jon.
I'm not dead then, so what am I then? Dreaming? Dying? Dreaming of Dying?
He heard another voice.
A bit more complicated than the first and second. Maybe not the third.
Who are you?
We have no names, answered another voice, slightly different. Both were so ordinary he could not tell whether they were male or female.
We are above names. Do you remember my voice?
He did. In the godswood. That was you? He could not distinguish this one from the first, but he also was not sure if it was the same one.
So, am I dead? Dying?
Dead, no. At this point he had given up on distinguishing them. But you are all dying, those who cannot live forever.
Reek would have agreed. Stark's ward would have japed. Theon kept silent.
You are supposed to be dead. In fact, your heart has stopped beating, what is left of it. You have stopped breathing, and your body is losing heat even now. But dead? No. You were not meant to die.
Then, how am I here?
You know nothing…
"Theon" said a woman's voice.
Theon opened his eyes, or rather they opened for him. He took his first breath, and realised something.
I remember being quite a bit bigger.
He was not a tall and strong youth, in fact…
…he was just a baby. He looked around confused, and realised he was on Pyke, recognising the colour of his first home. He then realised he was being passed along, and then caught a glimpse of his father's smiling face.
I have a feeling the gods have a sense of humour, Theon thought as he passed out from shock.
279 AC
He woke in a small crib, stuffed with straw, after dreams of the Dreadfort. Straw was quite common, but often times few Ironborn had need for horses. He closed his eyes, and thought on everything that had just happened. He moved slightly and realise he was still a baby. So. I've just been reborn.
It sounded stupid, and it was, but it was the only explanation. Waking up as a baby in the midwife's arms. He doubted that it had been a dream. The gods have a sense of humour, but they are not cruel. At least he had the wits of an adult. Without wits, he was just a baby again, and without his memories, doomed to make the same decisions. He knew that this world was exactly the same, he remembered his birth quite well, but never thought to think on it much.
I didn't really think on much. I did not treat people… well. Surprisingly, he doubted that allowing Winterfell be burned to the ground by Ramsay Snow would have ingratiated himself in the Stark's eyes. Worst mistake I ever made. Not again. The North was cold, and the people seemed colder, but I was wrong, and it was better. He wanted to go back to Winterfell, so he would have to be careful not to make a mess of the whole of Westeros. But the rebellion was far in the future. This was 279 years after the Conquest, and he knew what he had to do.
1. Save Robb. He was a king. He did not deserve to die in the Twins, while watching his leal men be slaughtered.
2. Save the North. As much as it pains me to go against my family, Winterfell was a better home than Pyke. And on that note:
3. Become a Stark. By taking Winterfell, I wanted to be a Greyjoy. By ruling it, I wanted to be a Stark. Hopefully I can still choose…
He thought how hard life was going to be, now that he had to change everything for the better. But nothing was going to be as hard as these next few years. He would have to pretend he did not know, and force ignorance to make himself re-learn everything. Or perhaps not. He could become a lot better than anyone else, well, almost anyone else. The journey begins with a single step, so he pretended to stir.
He was also astonished about how quickly he had made these life-changing decisions. So, he decided to unwind. What should his first word be? He had an idea:
"Sword" he said in a baby's voice.
His view was immediately obstructed by a large amount of black hair.
"Theon! You're going to live, Balon he's going to live!"
Gods, how long was I out?
"I know, I can see him." replied his father, as Alannys Harlaw turned. him round. "Did you hear his first word? "Sword"" He touched Theon under the chin. "He'll be a great reaver one day. I'm going to tell his uncles the good news. Victarion may even laugh for once."
He did laugh, thought Theon as he was fed. Or was it Aeron? It had been so long since the future Damphair had laughed. Wait, was that the right way of saying it?
So many things to find out. Hopefully I can just pass off the things I do know by being a bigger bookworm than Rodrik the Reader.
289 AC
So. Today's the day.
He had heard of Rodrik's death, head split by Lord Mallister's sword, then Maron's on the day Pyke fell to the Iron Throne, and a tower on top of Maron. He had been saddened by Maron's death, despite knowing it was coming, they were closer than in the past life. He thought it was necessary: the slightest deviation could mean disaster. Gods, how different the past life was. He was a boy of the same age, in the same clothes, standing in roughly the same area. But he was looking forward to meeting the Starks. Hopefully, he could actually manage to be treated as one of them. If he could win Maron over, with his cruel japes and lying tongue, he should be able to win over them. Should being a key word.
He was different in other ways, too. The past Theon had black eyes, dark hair, just less than shoulder-length, was handsome and been skilled with a bow but never was to archery as Jaime Lannister was to swordplay, and was also only slightly above average in swordplay, and despite being almost a good rider as Arya, could never get the hang of jousting. He was in better shape than the average 9-year old, slender and quick, but never very strong. He was also sullen on the day, watching his first home move out of sight. Most days he was loud and brash, always smiling, and was never very intelligent or skilled at sailing.
This Theon was different. In this world, he had his black hair long, past the shoulders and would often get mistaken for a girl from behind. He decided if his sister had a boy's hair, he should have a girl's. He had the same good looks, with a small scar on his left cheek not able to sully them at all, and he felt the hair and scar amplified them. Due to already knowing a lot of things, he had become better in pretty much everything. On the Isles, jousting was not taught, but he thought that he could do better this time, due to already knowing the basics. He was definitely a better swordsman, having been able to best Maron in sparring, to the middle brother's irritation and older brother's glee. He did not face his brother Rodrik, he was too old.
Most developed was his archery skills. He was able to shoot exact bricks on a tower while standing on a rocking wooden bridge. With hours of extra practice every night, he thought he was possibly one of the best bowmen in Westeros. Who knows, I may be able to shoot a dragonbone bow. They made the best bows. He had learned that from reading one of the books his uncle Rodrik gave him. He had decided to read more: lessons would be twice as boring now that he already knew things, so he may as well put his time to good use.
In 9 years, he would be off to war, and there was little he could do to change that. But, with better skills and what, in future, would turn out to be a lean, muscular and strong body, he was sure he could survive. He was more focused this time. Now, he was thinking whether Jeyne had come back, in the same way she did. Odds are she died too, and in the same way, so why not? Then again, he could have sworn the snow was soft enough for him to land safely. I remember that Maester Luwin once made a clay boy and dropped it off the walls to show Bran what it would be like if he fell. So many memories to remember, and now to relive.
Theon of House Greyjoy was excited as he glimpsed the boat approaching. Eagle Eye was a ship owned by Lord Jason Mallister, with a prow of a soaring, well, eagle. It was not a huge war galley, but it was large enough to take on boat of the Iron Fleet, as they were of a size. He kept it well maintained, with it running smoothly as the deep indigo sails approached, with the silver-grey eagle of House Mallister on them. Lord Balon was silent, guarded by some men assigned as a peacekeeping force. King Robert Baratheon took one look at the dreary atmosphere of Pyke, stayed to feast and drink in the Great Hall in the Great Keep, then sailed away on Fury.
Lord Eddard Stark was inclined to wait, and utilise the begrudging hospitality on the isles to keep Balon in check as the waited for the ship to arrive, which it soon did. There was no safe anchorage at Pyke, so ships docked at Lordsport, nearby. The captain came forth to welcome Lord Stark. Theon presumed Lord Jason, who was there as well, did not send his son Patrek forth. He thought this was because he was his only son, at the time, and after losing his first wife was rather cautious.
"M'lord!" came the voice of the captain. He was about 30 or so, with small flecks of grey in his beard.
"Ser Harold." said Lord Jason Mallister. "You made good time. Lord Stark, would you like to proceed?"
"Yes, Lord Mallister." said Lord Stark in a grim voice. "Lord Balon of House Greyjoy, I, Lord Eddard of House Stark, in the name of King Robert of the house Baratheon, the First of his Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingoms and Protector of the Realm, hereby proclaim your child, Theon, as a ward of mine, to be raised at my seat of Winterfell for an indefinite time."
"Yes, my Lord. Theon, go." said Lord Balon.
With his heart beating fast, Theon ascended the gangplank at a normal pace, taking a look around the deck of the galley as he did so. It was well maintained, as while it was not the swiftest galley in Lord Mallister's arsenal, (that honour belonged to Seasoarer, the the fastest between Lannisport and White Harbour), nor the strongest (that honour belonged to Talon, not to be confused with the oldest Arryn galley, which had been stationary in Gulltown ever since Jon Arryn took it in the opening stages of Robert's Rebellion.), it was the most dependable. With three decks and 250 oars, it was certainly large, but crumbled in comparison to ships like King Robert's Hammer, which had four decks and 400 oars.
He took a position on the stern, looking at his crying mother and saddened sister, he felt as if a breath of new life had come through him when Ser Harold began bellowing commands, and the Eagle Eye began makings its way home. As hewatched the stronghold disappear into the horizon, a grim voice sounded behind him.
"Theon."
Theon turned to see Lord Eddard Stark looking at him in his austere way.
"Lord Stark." Theon was unsure whether to kneel or not, but he decided against it.
"Do you know why you are coming with me, as my ward?"
Theon gave a tiny smile. "Well, as a hostage, because I doubt after having to cut your way through Ironborn warriors you are feeling kind enough to take a Greyjoy as your ward."
Stark seemed to relax a little. "Yes, It's not a perfect circumstance."
Theon widened his smile. "I have always wanted to feel the edge of a Valyrian steel blade. I won't get time to properly savour it though. At least my head will be looking satisfied as it rolls in the snow."
Lord Eddard Stark said "If all goes well, you should not need to feel Ice's blade. Though with all said, you're awfully cheerful for a boy leaving the only home he's known behind."
Theon's smile grew into a sarcastic smirk. "Yes, and what a home! A smell of salt that made my eyes water, a brother that made my eyes water as well, and to top it all of, for all the talk of the Ironborn being great sailors, we don't have safe anchorage at our Lord Paramount's seat!" He sighed. "Do you know what my uncle said once? About the Islands?"
"No. What?
Theon recalled the words as best he could : "Men dig the earth and plant crops and mine for ores, and die. Men fish or reave in their boats, and die. Women give birth to children, and die."
Eddard Stark gave a slight smile. "Theon, I have to confer with the captain about the time we are going to make back to Seagard. Shall I send my son up? I think you could with some company."
Theon said without thinking : "I look forward to meeting Robb, my lord." Crap! He never told
Disaster averted.
Lord Stark turned and left. Disaster averted. Theon turned in a Pyke-wards direction to wait. Soon after, a young voice piped up, confused:
"I thought Theon was a boy's name…"
Theon turned, grinning. "It is."
"Oh! Sorry, you just look a lot like a.. a.."
"Girl? Well, it's not good to think that all girls have long hair. Me and my sister often get confused for one another, to the inexperienced eye."
Robb laughed. Ahh… so many memories… he did laugh a lot. "Well, you got me there. So, you're coming to live with us at Winterfell?"
"Yes I believe that is the defintion of a ward…"
"So you a smart-ass. I'm never going to get used to that."
"I believe you are going to have to. Unless, you want to send me back to the Isles, kicking and screaming?" Theon grinned. "Actually, please do try. I don't think you'll be able to."
That angered Robb. "I came to try and talk with you, but that's not working, so..
"Sorry. Just messing."
Robb looked uncertain. "So… do they teach you to fight on the Isles?"
Theon just looked at him. Robb realised and said: "Stupid question, yeah… all you ironborn are fighters." Robb suddenly looked upset. "How can I be friends with someone whose family killed men of the King's?"
"Well, you don't have to, and I find it passing odd to be judged for things I committed not…"
"Why are you talking like you have a stick shoved up your arse?"
Theon smiled. "That is for me to know and you to find out."
Robb grinned. "Anyone could work that out."
They talked, and eventually found common ground on talk about swords. Robb, as in his previous favoured a longsword and shield, Theon, unlike the previous life, a bastard sword and shield ("I like to be able to kill with one or two hands."). Robb was doubtful about Theon's alleged skill with a bow, which Theon promised to show him. As they began to approach Seagard, the conversation turned to the Stark children.
"You already mentioned Jon, and you said you have a sister?"
"Yeah, Sansa. She doesn't like Jon that much, just like my lady mother."
"Because he's a bastard, and he looks more like a Stark than the trueborn kids?"
"Yeah, that's wh- how did you know that?" Robb's face crumpled up in confusion.
"Oh! I.. ahhhh…" Thick as a castle wall. "You guessed?" suggested Robb innocently. "Suuuuureee, let's ah… go with that." said Theon in a panicky voice.
Robb was about to call him out, but was interrupted by the sight of Seagard in the distance.
One step closer to home…