Bran, who had just narrowly escaped danger, was still dazed and confused.
He had no idea what was happening around him.
Theon, on the other hand, had gone pale with terror. His legs trembled uncontrollably.
Jaime studied his reaction and understood immediately: Theon must have heard everything he and Cersei had said.
Bran's presence was just an unfortunate accident — though in truth, Jaime found himself almost grateful. If the boy had not made a sound, he would never have noticed Theon clinging outside the tower wall.
Jaime looked at both boys in silence, quickly deciding what must be done.
Neither of them could be allowed to leave freely.
But he could not kill them both at once — Ned Stark would sense something was wrong. First an "accident" for one, and the other could be dealt with later.
His cold gaze drifted between Theon and Bran. Finally, he fixed his attention on Theon.
"Theon Greyjoy," Jaime said quietly. "Do you wish to live, or die?"
Theon stiffened, afraid and uncertain.
"You… what are you talking about?"
He tried to sound brave, though fear crept into every word.
"This is Winterfell. I am Lord Stark's ward. Bran is his son. You would be wise to let us go."
Cersei's expression darkened with fury that Jaime seemed to be bargaining at all. She drew a breath to lash out, but Jaime lifted a hand slightly.
"Trust me, Cersei."
She forced herself to remain silent, glaring at the two boys.
Jaime stepped closer, his knuckles popping softly as he flexed his fingers.
"You saw. You heard. Do you actually think I can allow you to walk away?"
"But… you are right about one thing. If both of you died here and now, Stark would tear this castle apart looking for the truth."
Jaime leaned in close to Theon's ear.
"But if you were on our side, the story could change."
Theon didn't believe him — not truly. He had seen too much. If he were Jaime, he would not spare a single witness.
He clutched Bran tighter, eyes flicking wildly around the tower, seeking any way out.
It was hopeless.
"You are the rightful heir of the Iron Islands," Jaime continued softly. "Yet you serve the very man who humiliated your father."
He watched Theon's expression shift.
"Kill Stark's boy," Jaime said calmly. "Do that, and this never happened. The queen will convince the king to send you home — to claim what is yours."
Theon shuddered. He never imagined Jaime would demand that.
"You're mad…"
But Jaime heard the hesitation buried in his voice. He kept pushing, voice low and poisonous.
"Think of how Stark yelled at you last night — for speaking the truth. You were born a ruler's son. Yet here you bow to those who wronged your bloodline."
"Even the Seven Gods must pity you."
Theon's grip tightened. His thoughts twisted in panic.
Bran struggled now, truly frightened.
"No! Theon, don't listen to him! Please!"
He tried to pull away, tears rising, but there was nowhere left to retreat. The open window was at his back and Theon's hands locked tight around him.
Jaime spoke again — the final blow.
"Choose, Greyjoy. Kill the boy… or you both die."
Theon's breath came in short gasps. Memories rushed through his mind — laughter in the Great Hall, shared hunts, warm nights by the fire with the Starks.
Then came the harsh glares and scolding words from the night before.
"How... can I trust you?" he whispered.
Jaime laughed, the sound cold.
"You kill him. We have a hold over you. You have one over us. Neither side betrays the other."
Cersei smiled thinly.
"And House Lannister rewards loyalty. Surely you've heard… a Lannister always repays what is owed."
Theon's eyes burned red.
"Swear it. Swear by the Seven you will send me home."
Jaime hesitated only a heartbeat. Then he and Cersei spoke the oath Theon demanded.
Bran froze, horror choking his voice as he saw Theon turning toward him.
"No — stop!"
Bran reacted suddenly, sinking his teeth into Theon's wrist. Theon cried out, acting on instinct. He struck Bran away.
Heart pounding, Bran tried to run past Jaime — but Theon grabbed him again.
"You bit me!!" he shouted, fear boiling into fury.
Before he fully understood what he was doing, Theon hauled Bran to the window.
He hesitated — a fraction of a second.
Then he shoved.
Bran screamed as he slipped into empty air, his hands clutching for anything to hold. There was nothing. The courtyard below rushed upward.
*THUD!*
In an instant, he hit the ground far below and lay still. His young direwolf bounded to his side, crying out for help.
Jaime looked down, satisfied Bran did not move.
"Well done," he said coolly.
He clamped a hand on Theon's shoulder. "Do as I say and you live. Say nothing. You were never here."
Theon nodded stiffly. He turned and ran, panic driving his steps as he fled the tower.
Only after he was gone did Jaime gather Cersei in his arms and hurry her down the stairway.
"Why let the squid live?" Cersei asked sharply. "When do you plan to finish with him?"
"He is scared," Jaime answered. "Fear makes a person obedient. Here in Winterfell, he will not speak. Once we return to King's Landing…" He glanced at her calmly. "He will be dealt with."
Cersei smirked.
"And we can always send his corpse home. We never promised it would be breathing."
Jaime did not respond.
They slipped away into a quiet passage with no witnesses.
High above them, a raven circled the tower silently. It watched until servants discovered Bran lying unconscious on the stones below.
Then it beat its wings and vanished into the sky.
Winterfell filled with fear.
__________
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