Game of Thrones: The Wolf of Deepwood Motte

Theon Greyjoy returned to his bedchamber in low spirits. After shutting the door behind him, he collapsed heavily onto the bed, his face filled with frustration.

Tonight's feast had been full of unexpected twists.

He had spent the entire evening running around trying to carry out Lady Catelyn's plan, only to end up making a fool of himself in front of everyone.

Not only had he failed to stop Garon's engagement to Sansa, but he had also thoroughly angered both Ned Stark and Robb.

Worst of all, that damned Galon Glover had actually won the trial by combat.

"Why?"

"How could the gods make him so monstrously strong?"

The moment Theon recalled Garon killing Meryn Trant so effortlessly, a chill ran down his spine.

Even a Kingsguard knight had died beneath Garon's sword.

How was Theon supposed to contend with someone like that?

"Tomorrow's hunt…"

"He'll definitely use it as an excuse to target me again."

"And after tonight, Lord Stark and Robb probably won't even bother helping me."

The more Theon thought about it, the more regretful he became.

"If I'd known things would turn out like this, I never would've agreed to Lady Catelyn's request."

A thought suddenly surfaced in his mind.

"Should I explain everything to Lord Stark?"

"I could tell him it was all Lady Catelyn's idea…"

However, the thought only lingered briefly before Theon immediately shook his head.

Offending Ned and Robb was still manageable.

After all, he understood their personalities well enough. Given enough time and a proper apology, they would eventually forgive him.

But offending Catelyn Stark was another matter entirely.

If he angered her, his life in Winterfell would become far more miserable than it already was.

Theon sighed deeply.

"When can I finally return home…"

For years, he had tried to convince himself that Winterfell was his home.

Yet tonight, as he looked around the chamber he had lived in for nearly a decade, he suddenly felt an indescribable loneliness.

Just then, something caught his eye.

"Hm?"

"What's that?"

Near the head of the bed, beneath his pillow, a corner of folded parchment protruded slightly.

Theon froze for a moment before reaching out curiously and pulling it free.

He unfolded the letter.

"Tomorrow morning. Meet at the Broken Tower. This matter is extremely important. Tell no one else. Balon Greyjoy."

The content instantly shocked him.

An unbelievable thought surged into his mind.

"Father…?"

"Has Father come to take me home?"

Theon immediately stood up in alarm, instinctively preparing to inform Ned Stark.

But after only taking two steps, he abruptly stopped.

"What if something happened on the Iron Islands?"

"If Father used this method to contact me, then it must be something important…"

"And if I report it to Lord Stark, what if I ruin Father's plans?"

Theon tightly clenched the parchment as his expression shifted uncertainly.

He paced back and forth across the room, his thoughts in complete turmoil.

Then the image of Garon's disdainful gaze resurfaced in his mind, followed by Ned and Robb's furious expressions during the feast.

Gradually, determination filled his face.

"I'll go tomorrow and see what this is about first."

"After that, I'll decide whether I should tell Lord Stark."

"If something truly happened on the Iron Islands…"

"Then maybe I can finally go home."

Theon's eyes filled with anticipation.

After everything that had happened over the last few days, Winterfell had become increasingly unbearable to him.

Especially after tonight's humiliation.

If he truly had a chance to return to Pyke, it would be far better than continuing to live beneath another man's roof.

Remembering that the letter had specifically warned him not to tell anyone, Theon walked toward the candle beside the bed and silently burned the parchment.

The flames quickly consumed the message.

Meanwhile, elsewhere within Winterfell, Ned Stark and Catelyn Stark had already returned to their chambers after bathing and were discussing the events of the banquet.

"I never imagined that boy's swordsmanship would be so extraordinary."

Ned stood beside the narrow window as usual, gazing out at the dark night surrounding Winterfell.

"Even a Kingsguard knight was no match for him."

His voice still carried traces of shock.

Everything that had happened during the feast had caught him completely off guard.

If Garon had not reacted decisively and proposed trial by combat, the Stark family's honor and the North's reputation would have suffered greatly before all the southern nobles.

The more Ned thought about Theon's behavior tonight, the angrier he became.

"What exactly is wrong with that boy?"

"I warned him beforehand, yet he still repeatedly caused trouble for Garon during the feast."

Lying upon the bed, Catelyn's heart skipped slightly, but she still defended Theon.

"You know about their conflict already."

"From the first day Garon arrived in Winterfell, he provoked Theon."

"It's understandable that Theon lost his temper for a moment."

"Besides, Garon ultimately won the trial by combat anyway. Since the outcome turned out well, there's no need to punish him."

Although Catelyn outwardly claimed to be satisfied with the outcome, inwardly she still felt bitter resentment toward Garon.

Even now, she could hardly believe he had resolved the entire situation through trial by combat.

Worse still, his martial skill was terrifying enough to kill a Kingsguard knight.

"Could he truly be favored by the gods?"

For a moment, Catelyn found it difficult to accept.

Ned, however, failed to notice her inner turmoil.

Thinking about the growing hostility between Theon and Garon, he sighed heavily.

"Tomorrow, let Theon rest in his chambers."

"It's better if they don't meet again for now."

Just as Ned began considering how to separate the two during tomorrow's hunt, a knock suddenly sounded at the chamber door.

Ned frowned immediately.

"Who is it?"

A servant's voice answered from outside.

"My lord, Maester Luwin is here. He says he has urgent business."

"Urgent business?"

Ned's brows furrowed deeper.

The chaos caused by tonight's trial by combat had barely ended, yet now another urgent matter had appeared.

"Let him enter."

Ned walked toward the wardrobe and draped a thick robe over his shoulders while Catelyn also put on a nightgown and sat upright upon the bed.

A moment later, Maester Luwin entered the chamber.

"My lord," he said respectfully, "forgive me for disturbing your rest, but someone left a letter for me."

Ned's expression immediately darkened.

"A letter?"

"Who delivered it?"

"Did a messenger arrive today without my knowledge?"

Maester Luwin shook his head.

"No, my lord. No messenger arrived."

He paused briefly before continuing.

"While I was dozing in my observatory, someone placed an intricately carved wooden box upon my desk."

"My servant claims no one entered, but it must have been brought by someone who traveled south with the King's party."

"We've had no other southern visitors recently."

"A wooden box?" Catelyn suddenly asked.

Maester Luwin nodded.

"Yes, my lady."

"It contained a finely crafted lens, along with a secret letter hidden beneath it."

"A secret letter?"

Ned extended his hand immediately.

"Let me see it."

But Maester Luwin hesitated.

"My lord… the letter is not addressed to you."

"It specifically states that only Lady Catelyn may open it."

Catelyn's curiosity instantly deepened.

She rose from the bed, accepted the letter from Maester Luwin, and after only a single glance, immediately recognized the sender.

"It's from Lysa."

Ned also noticed the crescent moon and falcon seal pressed into the pale blue wax, and a bad feeling immediately formed in his heart.

"Open it."

Catelyn broke the seal carefully.

Her eyes rapidly scanned the contents.

At first, confusion crossed her face.

Then suddenly, realization dawned.

"When we were girls, Lysa and I invented a secret language that only the two of us understood."

Ned immediately asked:

"Can you decipher it?"

"Yes."

At that moment, Maester Luwin respectfully interjected.

"My lord, perhaps I should leave you now."

But Catelyn shook her head.

"No, Maester."

"Ned and I may need your counsel."

She continued deciphering the hidden message line by line.

Then, as she finally reached the end of the letter, her body suddenly stiffened.

Fear spread visibly across her face.

Ned immediately noticed.

"What does it say?"

Catelyn slowly raised her head toward him.

Her voice trembled.

"Lysa says Jon Arryn was murdered."

Ned's expression changed instantly.

"Murdered?"

"By whom?"

Catelyn swallowed hard before answering.

"The Lannisters."

"She says the Queen herself was responsible."

Ned stood frozen in place.

"Old gods…"

"Does she understand the accusation she's making?"

"Of course she does," Catelyn replied softly.

"That's why the letter was hidden so carefully."

"She knows very well that if anyone else discovered this message, she would surely die."

Catelyn looked directly at Ned, her voice filled with urgency.

"Ned… you must help her."

Ned said nothing.

He slowly turned away from them, walked toward the narrow window overlooking Winterfell, and stood there silently for a very long time.