Jon wiped himself clean of all the sweat with the help of a wet cloth and dressed himself in a cleaner pair of clothes.
He was itching to hold a sword and take the feel of the weapon he was made for to wield. But sadly, his room did not have a sword, and more importantly, he was not even allowed to touch a real sword.
With a shake of his head, Jon travelled through the corridors of the iconic castle of Winterfell. And Jon had to admit that the castle was really special.
It did not scream of riches or lavishness of a lord. Instead, it spoke of strength and magnificence. Jon had to admit that it resembled the North in all manners:
Powerful. Sturdy. Vast. Barren. Yet sothing that made people love it.
He entered the great hall of Winterfell, and it was as if all eyes were imdiately drawn towards him. He was the centre of attention, but he paid no heed to it. He walked towards one of the walls and took his seat on one of the wooden stools.
Standing in the centre of the hall was Theon. Although he seed to be in so distress, Jon did not have any difficulty in spotting the ever-perpetual smirk present on his face.
As far as Jon was able to guess from the whispers of the servants, Theon had been locked in his room, a kind of detention imdiately after the incident. He had only been provided with food and was allowed to go out only for his daily rituals.
Ser Rodrik Cassel was standing not too far away from Theon with a stern expression on his face and his eyes almost fixed on Theon.
Rodrik Cassel was an honest and an upright man. The incident had occurred on his watch, and even though no one would bla him, Jon knew that the man was considering himself guilty.
Robb Stark was sitting in the front of the great hall, and he had not noticed Jon entering the hall. His face was slightly stiff, and whether he was worried about the well-being of his brother or about the imminent punishnt to his friend, only he knew.
Many other mbers of the household—Jory Cassel, the Maester, the Septa along with other household servants were also present in the hall.
A few monts passed, and Catelyn entered the great hall. A ten year old Sansa was in tow with her. Arya, eight years old, and Bran, four years old, were considered too young to partake in the hearing. Rickon Stark who was only few months old of course did not attend the gathering.
Her eyes spotted the bastard boy seated near the wall, and Jon detected a slight change in her expression. Disappointnt? That he had survived. Hatred for he was simply present. Jon was not sure, but it was definitely not pity or sympathy.
She walked and stepped up to the podium and took her seat next to the Lord's chair. Robb also followed behind her and sat next to his mother, while Sansa sat next to Robb.
Perhaps Robb spotted his bastard brother from the high table or not, Jon could not say. There was no change in Robb's expression to indicate anything.
Only a few monts later, there was another commotion as Lord Stark entered the great hall. He was his usual self. Tall. Stoic. Expressionless. Steady steps.
Every occupant of the room was on their feet to welco their lord. As Ned crossed towards the high table, his eyes too spotted Jon, and perhaps there was a pause in his steps. But ultimately, he continued walking towards the high table where he took his seat on the Lord's chair.
"Sit down, everyone," he bood, and all the occupants of the room, save Rodrik Cassel and Theon, were seated on their chairs.
"Ser Cassel," Ned continued his voice firm with authority. "You are the one who witnessed the entire incident from a close distance. I would like you to narrate the entire incident from start to finish before we proceed. Do not miss any details."
Ser Rodrik Cassel nodded. "Yes, My Lord."
He then proceeded to narrate the entire incident from the beginning. He did not miss any details, including the taunts and insults Theon had thrown towards Jon.
"And Theon wildly scread 'son of a whore!'" Rodrik finished, "after which he swung his wooden sword wildly, striking Jon on the back of his head."
Jon spotted Ned's knuckles tightening as his palms balled into a fist. His sister had been called a whore, after all. But he was powerless to do anything about it. At least that was what he had forced himself to believe.
"Do you have anything to say, Theon?" Ned asked as he cald his emotions. Though his voice was calm, the northern chill in his voice, made it clear that he was in no mood of any kind of nonsense.
"No, Lord Stark," Theon replied briefly. There was nothing he could say to defend himself. Every word Rodrik had said was absolute truth. But he also had no reason to worry. Like every person, seated in the hall Theon too was aware that he was going to get nothing more than a slap on the wrist.
"Theon," Ned's voice bood. "You will apologize to Jon for your behaviour. You will cease any kind of insult towards him."
"And additionally, you will clean the stables, feed the animals and take care of them for an entire moon," Ned announced.
Jon scoffed internally at this. What was punishnt for Theon, he had done much more on Catelyn's behest for many moons during the Greyjoy rebellion.
"Am I clear?" Ned asked.
"Yes, my lord," Theon replied.
"And I do not want repeat of any of these things," Ned added. "This ti I am letting you go with a lighter punishnt but next ti I would not be as lenient as this ti."
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