GOT: Wolf Becomes Stag

As it often does, plans don't go as one desires. Such was the situation for Tommen Baratheon. The boy was sent to the Wall to trick Jaime into joining the Night's Watch. Once Jaime had taken the oath, he was to return to King's Landing.

Sadly, the Ironborn invasion happened during that time. Winterfell was taken over, and that meant Tommen couldn't head south as planned. On top of that, his royal status, no matter how weak it was, made him a target.

So, Lord Commander Jeor Mormont decided to do the best he could to protect the young boy and sent him to Bear Island for its unlikeliness of being targeted by the Ironborn. Hence, the cold, remote place became a temporary home for Tommen.

Clank!

"Aaaaagh!"

Thud!

"How can you be a boy? You can't even lift a sword."

Tommen felt utterly humiliated, but he persisted in trying to beat the little girl before him. It had been just a few days since he met Lyanna Mormont, a girl four years younger than him, and yet so talented in fighting.

He hated her, but he knew he shouldn't throw tantrums like Joffrey. He tried to fight her every single day, trying to gain some ground. But she was so quick with her tongue and feet that each fight ended with him landing on his butt, humiliated.

"You truly never learned to swing a sword?" Lyanna Mormont asked with interest. "Mother says you're a bastard, but once, you were a prince. Don't princes learn to fight? I read that Prince Rhaegar Targaryen was among the finest swordsmen. Though I'd wager he wasn't half the warrior King Robert is."

Tommen embarrassingly grunted and pulled himself up again. "No, a Prince doesn't need to swing swords. He has people to protect him."

"Truly? Then tell me, why did Prince Rhaegar die? Did he not have those sworn to guard him?"

"..."

Tommen was out of ideas at that point. Honestly, he wasn't against learning to fight. He just never got to since Cersei was so insane about teaching everything to Joffrey all the time. Still, whatever he knew, he thanked Robert for it.

"I will beat you soon." He declared.

Lyanna Mormont shrugged and walked away. "I'm going to steal apples from the farm. Why don't you come along?"

"That's wrong!"

"Ugh, so weak." Lyanna scowled. "Go find some dolls to play with then."

At that point, it was a matter of honor.

Tommen ended up joining her.

####

"Your Grace, this way!"

At the same time, another Mormont led King Robert through Wolfswood. Dacey Mormont, the six-foot-tall woman from Bear Island, was the definition of beauty with brawns—Strapped in her leather armor, her long black hair in one thick braid behind.

Robert walked beside her, leading a hundred men to raid Winterfell and save Bran as well as Rickon. They moved slowly, careful not to alert the enemy, all the while they waited for night to come.

"How many climbing ropes do you have?" Robert asked her. "We'll need to scale swiftly and deal with men on the wall."

"We have ten, Your Grace," Dacey answered. "I can climb fast."

Robert nodded and looked at the other men behind. "Find more quick climbers. Get 'em ready to scale the walls. We can't let them sound the alarm before we've got Bran and Rickon."

With that, Robert prepared to enter the castle. Beside him, Robb helped to command the men as most who came were Northerners. Furthermore, he couldn't be the first one to climb due to his weight. He could scale the walls, but not as fast as he needed to.

As time went by, the sky began to darken in a dusky hue. The birds returned to their nests, raising a ruckus before slowly going silent. By that time, the castle became visible in the distance. Majestic and colossal, a daunting task to scale.

But no one complained and prepared to make a move. They waited a little more for the sky to turn fully dark. By then, they expected the Ironborn to have relaxed and gone to eat or fuck whoever they could find.

"Scale it," Robert commanded in a hushed voice.

Instantly, ten figures left the treeline, all draped in dark clothes to blend in the darkness. With ropes and metal hooks, they rushed to the castle's wall. After that, they waited for the patrolling guards to make one rotation before throwing up their hooks and starting the climb. At 80 feet high for the outer wall and 100 feet high for the inner wall—it was an extremely challenging task.

"They're up." Robert started moving finally. "Stay alert."

With his warhammer dangling on his back, Robert reached the wall and started scaling the same rope that Dacey used before. With the patrolling men already dealt with at the top, he led all his men up.

From there, they divided into two large groups of fifty and went in two directions. Scaling the inner wall was simply not possible, so they had to get access to the gates through actual fighting. But the trick was in being quick.

No matter what, the Ironborn didn't have enough men to completely turn the castle into a fortress. They were divided into too many areas to focus on.

"Kill them."

Robert charged forward towards the inner wall's entrance. Only three men guarded the gates, so they surrounded the men from all sides and killed them as quickly as possible. Although some shouts were made, the entire castle was already filled with many screams from all over. The sick Ironborn were committing heinous tortures.

"Kill any Ironborn you see without hesitation," Robert ordered and finally entered the inner castle.

From there, the slow bloodbath ensued. It wasn't that the Ironborn were less in numbers. They were simply unprepared for an ambush like that. Found eating, bathing, fucking, or sleeping, killing them was as easy as stepping on rats. With no discipline of an army, no centralized command, and Victarion already dead at Robert's hands, the castle was wild territory.

Robert knew the entire castle like the back of his hand and swept through every possible place Bran and Rickon could be. Every now and then they'd engage in easy skirmishes, killing the Ironborn.

As the night went on, Robb rejoined Robert after sweeping through his side of the castle. Eventually, that left very few places empty for Robert to search.

Bam!

Robert kicked yet another door open and raised his warhammer. At last, he saw a glimpse of his sons, but they were in mortal danger. He halted in the distance, glaring at the two figures holding daggers at Bran and Rickon's throats.

"Stand back, King Robert! If you want to save the—"

"If you kill them, I'll still kill you," Robert bellowed, his gaze never leaving Theon Greyjoy, who held the dagger at Bran's throat. "I'll make it slow, and it will last many fortnights. I know that rat, and you must be his sister. If you want to live, surrender. I'll let your father pay your ransom."

Theon Greyjoy and Asha Greyjoy looked like cornered cats in that dark room. Both their faces held fright at the sight of Robert's large frame and his blood-soaked warhammer. The brother and sister were waiting for more reinforcements and didn't expect the sudden attack.

They didn't consider Robb Stark to hold that much will and never calculated Robert Baratheon's drive to save the two boys. Why the King would place his life on the line for people not of his own blood confused them, but it didn't matter anymore. They had already lost.

"I considered you my brother, Theon! How could you betray us?!" Robb shouted at Theon, pain in his voice. "We drank and fought together—did that mean nothing to you?"

"I was your hostage!" Theon growled back.

Robert glared at Robb and placed one hand on his shoulder. He felt angered, even enraged that Robb was so foolish to not know when to stay quiet. All those emotional outbursts could have waited until after getting Bran and Rickon to safety.

Too emotional, too honorable, and too indecisive. Is this all that I taught him? Robert, or the soul inside, questions himself. I have failed as a father, as a Lord… Such a disgrace.

"Make up your damn minds!" Robert bellowed. "Live or die?"

Silence spread for a short moment. Robert, with all those behind him, waited for an answer. Bran and Rickon kept silent, fear in their eyes. Meanwhile, Theon and Asha looked at each other for a moment and nodded.

"L-Live," Asha declared and removed her dagger from the boy's neck.

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