Chapter 14: The Ward of Winterfell

Eddard dined with the children in the great hall. Little Rickon was still nursing, so Catelyn had the servants bring her meals to her chambers.

Robb and Bran wore woolen tunics adorned with the Stark direwolf sigil. Domeric Bolton, draped in the crimson cloak of House Bolton, bore the rusted crown and crossed battle axes of his aunt's house, House Dustin. Before coming to Winterfell as Eddard's ward, Domeric had been Lady Barbrey Dustin's squire. Theon, in his black leather armor, displayed the golden kraken of House Greyjoy.

Jon Snow sat in the corner of the table. As the bastard of Winterfell, he had no sigil to wear.

Eddard had heard from Ser Rodrik Cassel, Winterfell's master-at-arms, that Theon had been training harder than ever in archery and swordsmanship. Previously, when Theon sparred with Robb and Jon, the eleven-year-olds were no match for him. Theon would always defeat them with a smirk.

But now, Domeric Bolton, the heir to the Dreadfort, had come to Winterfell as Eddard's ward. Domeric's swordsmanship, horsemanship, and lance skills surpassed Theon's. The admiration Robb and Bran once had for Theon had shifted to Domeric.

Sansa often sought Domeric's advice on music and songs, pestering him to play the harp for her. Arya, who had initially disliked Domeric, began to pester him for swordfighting lessons after seeing his skill.

As fellow wards, Theon was far less popular among the children than Domeric. The servants also preferred the gentle and courteous Domeric. Recently, Theon had changed. He began to actively engage with Sansa, Arya, and Bran in conversation—something he had rarely done before, aside from Robb. Theon trained harder, stopped making lewd jokes and advances toward the maids, and visited the brothels in Winter Town less frequently.

Eddard thought Theon might feel threatened by Domeric's presence. Despite Theon's usual cheerful demeanor, living as a ward in Winterfell, with another ward who was more talented and popular, had undoubtedly forced him to adapt. However, Eddard couldn't help but notice that Theon seemed to be trying to please everyone around him, while his relationship with Domeric had deteriorated. Whether in the training yard or at meals in the great hall, Theon rarely spoke to Domeric. The only thing that hadn't changed was Theon's attitude toward Jon. He remained as dismissive of Jon as ever.

A servant brought out a honey-glazed roast chicken, and Robb tore off a drumstick.

"Father, I heard from Ser Rodrik that the savages from Skagos attacked the salt pans in House Umber's lands, killing over twenty people."

Eddard nodded grimly. "Yes, news travels fast."

Theon chimed in, "Lord Eddard, the people of Winter Town are outraged! When I was patrolling with the guards, I heard many say that you should gather the Northern armies and teach those cannibals a lesson."

Sansa, wearing a sea-green gown with her red hair cascading over her shoulders, looked horrified. "Cannibals? How can there be cannibals in the world? That's terrifying. The songs never mention such things."

"Only fools believe the songs," Arya retorted. She was thin and wiry, her hair perpetually messy, and she never bothered with dresses, opting instead for a brown tunic and black woolen trousers.

Sansa glared at Arya, who ignored her and turned to Eddard. "Father, did those cannibals really eat people when they raided House Umber's lands?"

"Probably not," Eddard replied, unwilling to discuss such gruesome topics at the dinner table.

Robb slammed his fist on the table. "Father, we must kill those Skagosi raiders and avenge the dead. Can I go to battle?"

Eddard smiled. "Robb, you're too young. You're not even summer grass yet—more like a spring sprout. Have you seen the puppies in the kennels? Should we send them to war too?"

Robb frowned. "I'll be a man grown in three years."

"So will I," Jon added. "Lord Eddard, Robb and I can fight. We've beaten grown men in the training yard."

Bran, younger than the others, piped up while eating a slice of egg cake. "Can I go too?"

Theon laughed. "You little brats want to fight the Stoneborn? Are you going to deliver yourselves as food to those cannibals? The Skagosi raid by ship and harass the North's coasts. Who's more qualified to lead than me? I'm the heir to the Iron Islands, the son of Balon Greyjoy, a true Ironborn."

"Let the Ironborn defeat the Stoneborn. What could be more perfect?"

Domeric, who had been silent until now, spoke up. "Theon, the Skagosi do call themselves Stoneborn, but we Northerners usually refer to them as 'Skaggs.' It's a derogatory term. Stoneborn is what they call themselves. We Northerners don't give them such a grandiose title."

"'We Northerners'?" Theon's smile vanished as he seized on the phrase. "What do you mean by that, boy?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," Domeric apologized sincerely. "I was just sharing how Northerners view the Skagosi. You might not be familiar with it, since Ironborn have different terms for them. It's just a cultural difference."

Theon picked up his fork as if it were a weapon, his face twisted with anger. "Who do you think you are, lecturing me? I've been at Winterfell since I was ten. I grew up here. I had my first kiss and my coming-of-age ceremony here. Lord Eddard himself says I'm half wolf, half kraken. You've only been here a few days, and you're already trying to push me out?"

Sansa gasped. "Theon, that's so rude! How can you speak to kind Domeric like that?"

Arya agreed. "Yeah, Theon, you're being too sensitive."

Jon added, "Domeric already apologized, Theon. You shouldn't keep pushing."

Facing their criticism, Theon grew even angrier. He looked to Robb for support.

Robb glanced between Domeric and Theon, confused. "Theon, I think Domeric was just stating a fact. He wasn't targeting you. You shouldn't take it so personally."

Theon snapped. "Even you're saying that? What did I do wrong? Why is everyone ganging up on me?"

Domeric stood and placed a hand on Theon's shoulder. "Theon, I'm sorry. This is all because of my poor choice of words."

Theon slapped Domeric's hand away. "Don't play nice with me, flayer."

Robb shook his head in disappointment. Sansa scolded Theon softly, Arya threw an egg at him, and Jon cursed under his breath. Bran clapped. "Fight! Fight!"

"Enough!" Eddard's voice cut through the hall like a blade.

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