As Lyonel strode away from the training yard with Ser Arys and Sandor Clegane at his side the yard behind him had gone deathly quiet.
the silence shattered into low, urgent whispers, marveling at how the young crown prince had dismantled Theon Greyjoy five years his senior and wielded his sword with such brutal precision.
"Did you see that?"
"He disarmed Theon in one move…"
"A boy five years younger…"
"He moved like he was born with a blade in his hand…"
Ned Stark exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple.
"Take Theon and have Maester Luwin see to him," he ordered.
Two guards hurried forward and lifted the unconscious, bloodied Ironborn boy.
Lyonel's POV
Sandor's laughter rumbled as he clapped Lyonel on the back. "Good job, you brat. You showed that pampered boy his damn place."
Lyonel smirked.
"Thank you, Clegane."
Ser Arys, walking on the other side, shook his head with a smirk of his own.
"Clegane, please mind your tongue in front of your prince."
Though the words were formal, Arys's tone was light clearly not a real reprimand. Everyone knew Lyonel didn't mind Sandor's rough speech.
Sandor flashed a wild grin. "It's you who should loosen up, Arys."
The trio laughed together the sound carrying across the yard.
Lyonel reached up and patted both men on their armored shoulders.
"Let's go spar. My training today was very lacking."
Sandor laughed even harder.
Arys joined him, shaking his head.
They headed toward a quieter corner of the yard, already loosening their shoulders for another round.
Winterfell – Theon's Chambers
Ned entered to find Maester Luwin tending Theon, who lay motionless on the bed.
The boy lay pale and still, face swollen and bruised, one arm splinted.
"How is he, Maester?"
Luwin sighed.
"He'll survive, my lord, but I do not know when he'll wake," Luwin replied.
Ned stared at the ceiling for a long moment.
"What will you do, my lord?" Luwin asked. "Will you write to the King about his son's behavior?"
"I should…" Ned admitted, "but I doubt he'll do anything. In fact, if I know Robert, he'll be proud because that's exactly how Robert was when he was young."
They shared a silent moment before Ned said, "Keep seeing to Theon, Maester." He left for his solar, already composing the letter to the king in his mind.
King's Landing – The Red Keep – Four Days Later
Maester Pycelle entered Robert's solar, letter in hand. Cersei hovered close, eyes sharp with curiosity. Ser Jaime and Ser Barristan, on duty nearby, both angled closer when they heard the letter was from Winterfell.
Robert cracked the seal and read. Suddenly, he burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the room. "That's my boy! That's my fucking boy!"
Cersei, who had been peeking over his shoulder out of curiosity, smirked with clear satisfaction.
Ser Jaime and Ser Barristan moved slightly closer, intrigued.
Barristan asked, "What did the prince do, Your Grace?"
Robert calmed himself enough to explain grinning the whole time how Lyonel had utterly destroyed Theon in a spar, breaking his arm and beating him bloody after Theon demanded Red Rain as a stake.
Both Kingsguard shared a smirk.
Jaime chuckled low.
"Sounds like the boy's learning well."
Barristan allowed himself a small, proud smile.
The mood in the Red Keep was unusually bright that day.
Winterfell – Theon's Chambers – Seven Days Later
Theon woke, pain radiating through every limb. Maester Luwin was at his bedside.
"Slowly, Theon. Do not try to stand yet."
"Everything hurts, Maester. What happened?" Theon's voice was groggy, bewildered.Luwin looked at him with a questioning expression.
"Do you really not remember anything?"
Theon frowned, fragments returning.
"Only that I was about to fight Lyonel… but what happened later?"
Luwin paused, then sighed.
"You lost, Theon. Very badly."
Theon's eyes widened as memory slammed back.
"Fuck…"
Winterfell – Lyonel's Chambers
Two years had passed.
Lyonel was now two-and-ten and 5'6" tall, already matching the height of the seventeen-year-old Theon (who stood at 5'7"). His shoulders had broadened from relentless training.
He finished writing two letters: one official, addressed to his father, the other, discreet to Ser Barristan, instructing him and Ser Jaime to prepare for the journey.
He handed the second letter to a servant. "Send this to the White Sword Tower, Lord Commander's chambers." The man nodded and melted into the shadows.
Lyonel stood, strapped on Red Rain, and walked out, his Kingsguard waiting outside his chambers guarding him Arys and Sandor immedietly fell in behind him as he made for the Maester's tower.
Lyonel knocked on the doors.
"Come in!" Luwin's voice called.
When Lyonel entered, Luwin stood and bowed. "My prince, what brings you here?"
Lyonel smiled and waved off the formality. "Maester, I told you to stop bowing."
Luwin shook his head with a small smile. "You know I can't."
Lyonel handed him the letter. "Can you send this to my father? I need him to read it soon."
"Of course. I'll send the raven at once. It will reach King's Landing within five days at the latest."
Lyonel nodded. "Good."
He left the tower.
As he walked away, he turned to his Kingsguard.
"You two have the rest of the day off."
Both raised an eyebrow.
Then they exchanged knowing glances and Sandor said grinning. "Enjoy your date, you brat!"
Arys laughed, and Lyonel rolled his eyes. "Whatever. You're free to get as drunk as you want!"
He stormed off toward the godswood where Arya was already waiting for their training session.