The Dalyngridge Girl ➝ Bran Stark

Chapter 13

"Alright, both of you, up," Mare heard a voice growl. Mare sat up, startled, and saw Theon Greyjoy with a sword and armor on.

"Theon, aren't you supposed to be with Robb?" she asked, shaking Bran awake.

"Shut up, you little-" he started, but was cut off by Bran.

"Theon, what's going on?" Bran asked, his eyes turning a darker shade of brown.

"I've taken your castle," Theon said. "And it's Prince Theon now."

Bran just sat in bed, staring at the now-Prince Theon in confusion. Mare thought she mirrored his look. She couldn't believe that Winterfell had been taken. Especially by Theon, who was supposed to be with Robb Stark. She was always told stories about how the Greyjoys were traitors and not trustworthy by Catelyn; of course, she was the only one that had been told these stories. She didn't want any of her actual children to know.

"Well, get up, you have to get dressed! You too, wench," Theon spat at Mare. She noted that there was some hesitation in his voice and a sad look in his eyes. Her blood started to boil anyway, but Bran beat her to a response.

"She is the future Lady of Winterfell, you will not call her that again or you will have severe punishments," Bran said in a low voice, but Mare put her hand on Bran's.

"Last thing I knew, she wasn't marrying me," Theon said smugly, "but that can be arranged."

"Theon, she's meant to marry me," Bran said, his voice turning into a growl.

"Theon, why're you here?" Mare asked, annoyance lacing her voice. "Why can't you just kindly leave?"

"I told you, I've taken Winterfell," Theon shot back.

"Why?" Bran asked. Theon thought for a moment, picking his words carefully.

"To take the castle. Where's Hodor?"

"I don't know," Bran admitted, looking at Mare almost longingly. Theon turned to his guard.

"Find the half-wit," Theon said flaty, and his guard walked off. "My men are getting your people together in the courtyard."

"Why?" Bran asked.

"So you and I can go down to tell them how you have yielded Winterfell to me."

"I won't," Bran said with finality, a side of venom threatening to spill from his words.

"Yes you will," Theon spat, walking over to the bed, his hand traveling to his sword. Bran pulled himself up.

"I won't. I'll never yield. I'll fight you and throw you out," Bran said, and Mare looked between them both, not daring to step into this fight. She knew when to keep her mouth shut, and now was definitely one of those times.

Theon came and sat down on the bed next to both of them. "The castle is mine, but the people are still yours," he explained, his voice a little more gentle than before. "You will yield to keep them safe, won't you? That's what all the good lords do."

Bran stayed quiet for a moment, and Theon got up to leave. That was when Mare finally spoke.

"Theon, have you hated all of us this whole time?" she asked quietly, tucking her hair behind her ear. He looked quickly at the both of them before storming out the chamber, slamming his door on the way out.

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"I've yielded Winterfell to Prince Theon Greyjoy," Bran spoke to the crowd. Mare looked at her people, wishing she could somehow convince them that everything will be okay.