Game Of Thrones... With A Twist

A Game of Thrones - Chapter 12

He wasn't supposed to feel anything, but apparently, he still felt something in his currently useless appendages.

"Piss on Mance Rayder and piss on the North. We're going as far south as south goes. There ain't no White Walkers down in Dorne." The Wildling band leader stated strongly... just as one Robb Stark stepped onto the field.

"Drop the knife! Let him go and I'll let you live." The Heir to Winterfell stated as he drew his sword, drawing the attention of the band to the lone wolf standing before them.

The wildlings would not go so easily.

The leader signaled the wildling that had revealed Bran's straps as the wildling charged at Robb with a battle cry, axe held high to cut the Stark down. 

Three times he swung, and all three times, Robb dodged that deadly blows before placing his blade across the wildling neck... and drawing it in a shower of blood.

The wildling woman charged at Robb quietly with her mace, hitting him in the back, but the Acting Lord of Winterfell immediately turned and disarmed her of her weapon before holding her by her hair just as the other wildling charged at him.

Using the momentum of the wildling's charge, Robb thrust his sword forward and let the wildling run himself through on Robb's blade... before Robb drew it out and stabbed once more for good measure.

"Robb." Bran called, drawing the attention of the female wildling and Robb as the wildling leader held a knife to the unhorsed Bran's throat. 

"Robb." Bran called once more. 

"Shut up." The wildling leader growled at Robb before turning back to the oldest Stark present. 

"Drop the blade!" The man barked.

"No, don't." Bran spoke. 

"Do it." The man barked once more at the silent Bran, whilst Robb looked between the wildling and his captured little brother who couldn't run away. 

Slowly, Robb placed the blade down as the wildling leader had a slight smirk at the edge of his lips... only for the man to gasp as an arrow pierced through his back and out his chest, stealing his life away in a heartbeat.

The wildling dropped Bran and his knife before dropping to the ground himself, dead as he hit the ground.

And standing some distance away, his bow in hand... was one Theon Greyjoy, the last living son of Balon Greyjoy.

As Theon drew another arrow upon his bowstring, Robb left the wildling woman on the ground and hurried to pick up Bran. 

"Are you all right?" Robb asked his little brother with concern.

"Yes. It doesn't hurt." Bran answered, despite the size of the cut as Robb picked him up.

"Tough little lad. In the Iron Islands, you're not a man until you've killed your first enemy. Well done." Theon praised Robb and Bran as he held the wildling woman at arrow point.

Robb gazed around the field before he asked Theon, "Have you lost your mind? What if you'd missed?" 

Theon looked at Robb in slight confusion and outrage as he answered, "He would've killed you and cut Bran's throat."

"You don't have the right to..." "To what? To save your brother's life? It was the only thing to do, so I did it." Theon cut Robb off with some sense, although those words would come back to haunt the young Ironborn one day.

Robb turned his eyes towards the wildling woman, leaving Theon be for now, as he asked, "What about her?"

Theon turned his head to the wildling woman, and smiled at the thought of either killing her, or screwing her brains out as retribution for attacking the Starks.