Theon Stark is the firstborn son and child to come from the union of his mother, Lady Alysanne Stark of the Dreadfort, and his detached father, the late Lord Jon Stark of the North. He is the first of six children to be born from their union, and their only son to have successfully made it to adulthood without being forced to forsake their family name or taken by the Gods.

As of the Twelfth Moon of 438 A.C., Theon Stark bears the title Lord of the Dreadfort, following his mother's passing at the clutches of illness.

Born many years after his three elder half-siblings, when they were long passed adults grown, Theon, while very much a Stark of Winterfell, was also a Stark of the Dreadfort. Such was a separation that for all the benefits of inheritance, only compounded upon their difference in age, as well as that of the other Starks of Winterfell.

His unique place in Northern society saw him often moving between the two Castles, with him coming to name them both 'home'. It was this lack of a proper and constant home that saw him develop a personal inward identity as 'the Wolf of Two Coats'.

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Appearance and Character

Theon has always been a lean individual, even as a child, and so, has never taken to fat or anything of the like. From birth possssed the hallmarks of his mother, those being, brown hair and grey eyes, unakin his late father's black hair and brown eyes. Resting atop his head is a mess of short brown hair, with a long and lean Stark visage resting beneath. Further so, while Theon is a lean youth, he has never suffered from an inability to put on muscle unlike some with a lean build. With his more slight build, one would not expect him to be wielding larger weapons. When his opponents are brought low, he relishes in mocking them for their defeat and overconfidence, whether it existed or not.

He is commonly known by a simple fact of his existence; his scar. A most notable fixture of his visage, the scar starts just above his left eye and cuts down just into the top of his cheek, where it meets in an upside down T-shape with its other half.

The scar is a divisive reality for Theon. At times, he readily embraces it, and thinks himself quite the handsome Lord-in-waiting when he gazes upon his reflection, seeing as a compliment to his looks and a statement of his martial prowess, as after all, do not all the greatest warriors and men have some scars. Yet, in contrast, Theon can also be incredibly sensitive over it, known to have quite thoroughly grown to rage on a few occasions for japes and laughter made at his expense.

Yet, to those select parties within the Dreadfort, it is known that despite his martial prowess, the heir does also have an inclination toward the methods and means of interrogation and torture. Theon's interest in such a pasttime is not that affliction of so many of the Dreadfort come before him, for by nature he is not actively cruel and malicious, simply somewhat different. Such is an interest Theon has actively engaged in since his permanent return to the Dreadfort after his father's passing in 434 A.C.

While Theon does certainly have a set of more merciless tendencies, he is by no means an outwardly repugnant individual. Having been raised closely by his mother, especially after they both dearly felt the loss of his younger brother, Cregard, to the Wall, he is well aware of how to present himself in public and within the upper eschelons of society, even if they are at times few and far between this far North.

For Theon, while there will always exist laws of the land, as well as those made official law by his betters, he does at time take an arbitrary approach to them, seeing what he refers to as 'the Lord's decision' taking paramount importance. While no incidents have been reported, there is indeed a select circle of individuals who know of what exactly does occur at times.

Never having grown to enjoy duels and spars, Theon possesses a different martial make. Where others prefer to fight with rules and honour, Theon moves forth in the most proficient and effective manner available to him. Yet, for all his indifference toward duels, the scar on his face that he is at times so sensitive about speaks to a fate he did not choose.

History

419 - 424 A.C. The Pup of Two Coats

Theon Stark was born worlds apart from his elder half-siblings and most of his kin. Where Dacey and Edderion were Starks of Winterfell, Theon was the heir to the Dreadfort, and seen as having no chance at Winterfell, and within his mind, even proper place within its walls. Even as a babe, and a toddler, Theon's father proved distant at best, and a mere name and title at worst. This distance only further served to leave Theon under his mother's over-bearing and constant care as a youth, spending nigh all his time with her and his younger brother, Cregard, and later, Sybelle as well.

Yet despite the burgeoning relationship between Theon and Sybelle, in 424 A.C., another child was due to be born to their parents. The girl was born dead, stillborn, nothing but a corpse to bury. The divide between their parents afterward was clear as the summer skies, leaving their mother to retire to the Dreadfort more frequently and for longer stretches of time in the coming years.

For the pup of Winterfell, and the Dreadfort, these years were a peace he would never again know, for they were a peace of innocence. It was a peace that would soon be lost with the coming of the Blue Winter and its harsh judgement.

425 - 428 A.C. The Snows Come in Earnest

The North was prepared. It always was. Theon's father, for all the distance he had placed between them, had indeed readied the North for the times ahead. The winter was harsh, none could doubt that, and the realm did greatly suffer under its tidings, but the Starks of Winterfell, and the Starks of the Dreadfort, would do as they had always done. They gathered the harvest, filled their food stores to the limit, closed their doors to the cold, and simply, as they had done hundreds, if not thousands of times over, waited.

Yet, in 427 A.C., the Black Draft came a-knocking. Their benevolent and just Lord Paramount called for all the second sons of the North to be sent to the Wall and join the Night's Watch, not for any crime other than that of being secondborn. And so, Theon was forced to say goodbye to his younger brother and close playmate, Cregard Stark, a boy of only seven years. The tearing of his brother from his life would prove to be something Theon would never forget and never leave in the past, resolutely holding that action against his father to his death and beyond.

By the Gods, that was not to be the end of the taking of Stark sons. For in that same year, Theon's eldest half-brother, Ellard, passed from this world. Strikingly, as Theon found himself at as half-brother's funeral, he was without sadness for the loss, a loss felt by the entire North but him. Had it been the distance between them? Their status as half-siblings? Their rare encounters? Their few commonalities? Gods knew. Soon enough the lad was in the crypts, and gone from mind and thought.

Without Cregard, Theon felt ever more alone within Winterfell, for while he could play with the other children, both they and he always knew he was truly of the Dreadfort. Truly not one of them. In Theon's eye, even the smith's son, the kennelmaster's son, and the cook's son, were more of Winterfell and aprize of their own father's eye than he would ever be to his father.

Gradually, as the winter proved a long one, and Sybelle grew ever older, Theon began spending increasing amounts of time with her, albeit the age gap of a few years. While Sybelle was but a babe to Theon, she was his kin, his true kin, and no matter how much shorter, how much less proficient at walking and talking, and no matter that was she no Cregard, Theon loved her dearly.

Four years they waited. By the time winter ended, Theon was nine years grown, and while through these past years he and his sister had bonded closely, he would never come to consider hs sister a fair trade for the brother he lost. Alas, these were never feelings or thoughts that the great Jon Stark would come to see or hear, for he never had time for his thirdborn son, the pup of the second litter, or any of those pups born with the Dread Wolf. So on the rare occasion when Jon's gaze did fall upon Theon, he smiled, as his mother had taught him, bowed his head, and uttered the words, "My Lord father". Jon always seemed most pleased, for the handful of seconds he gave Theon.

429 - 433 A.C. Beginnings of Youth

With the Blue Winter finally abated, the North came alive once more. Theon's trips between Winterfell and the Dreadfort gradually become ever more frequent, with his mother began to expect more and more of him, after all, with the loss of his younger brother, he was but one of two sons of Alysanne Stark, with the younger of the two, his recently born brother, Torrhen Stark, being but the youngest of youths. It was oft that Theon saw the strain of motherhood upon his mother, after all, before his own birth she had lost a son, her first son. A babe named Beron, had the whispers told him, with her first husband, the once co-ruler of the Dreadfort, Benjen Stark.

However this would not by any means serve to stop Theon from enjoying his days for the most part. Both Winterfell and the Dreadfort were plenty when it came to riding, sparring with other lads his age, practicing the bow, and the joys of being a highest of lordlings. The North had always been its own country, even while the Targaryens and Baratheons had in truth ruled them, the North had been of its own make, of its own rulership. And while the land of Theon's forefathers had for a time been stolen away by the Boltons, albeit for the shortest of times, they were in truth, Theon's forefathers as well.

It was during this years that Theon did find himself growing closer and closer with the bow, finding to have in it a true passion. And as the years did pass, such a passion grew into tangible skill. Yet, that would not be all the skill Theon would find himself possessing of, for soon enough he also found such in the art of combat from the shadows. With dagger in hand, and footsteps as silent as the dead of the night itself, Theon was less than even a shadow on the wall, less than a mere reflection, he was as a direwolf of grey, while of blackest fur as well, and of lightest paw, yet the heaviest strike, he was, the Wolf of Two Coats.

And as the years passed evermore, Theon also found himself to possess a true understanding of war and its ongoings, of how the great conquests had been so successful, in more detail than just 'dragons'. He learnt of great past battles and wars alike, all the way from the invasions of the Andals, to the Battle of Winterfell, which saw the Stark dyansty re-established within the North and once more occupying its rightful seat, as well as that of the Dreadfort soon enough, ending the male Bolton line for all times.

Yet the true fun for one of the most powerful and prominent lordlings of the North was only to begin to make itself known to Theon in 433 A.C. Come this time, he was of an age where siblings had increasingly become less than enough for travel between the Castles and direct lands of his individual parents, and so, soon enough, a band of lads of similar ages joined Theon in his regular procession. The boys were a mixture of men-to-be, one was a petty noble by the name of Whitehill, another a stablemaster's son, the third a boy of his mother's household, whose father served diligently in one capacity or another, and at least another four lads.

Now with a motley retinue of his own, Theon did become ever the independent young lad, and ever the troublesome one too. From girls, who he found he liked very much, to the causing of grief for the local peasantry every so often, to the hunts they went on with minimal servants and guards, this son of the North enjoyed it all. Undoubtedly, it went to his head, as it does for so many noble children. Not to mention, Theon was no ordinary noble child. Born of the Warden of the North, the Lord of Winterfell, and the Lady of the Dreadfort, the latter of the two to whom he was heir, he was in a unique position, while he would not inherit Winterfell and the North, he would so come into land and title of his own, and still retain the prestigious position owed to him by virtue of his father.

434 A.C. The South Bleeds

Of course it was the south. Southron lords and ladies never had had the strength of their counterparts of the North. When war broke, the North at first remained a sleeping giant, awaiting its call-to-arms, awaiting its time. That time came in 434 A.C. Lord Jon Stark called his banners and marched south, and Theon was not of a mind to let his father forget him.

His mother granted him command of the contingent of men sent from the Dreadfort, alongside their Castellan, as after all, he was only four and ten at the time, and so they marched, meeting with the greater Stark host north of the Neck. By now, it had been some moons since Theon and his father had greeted one another, as he had spent a fairly lengthy stretch of time at the Dreadfort under his mother's tutelage, nevertheless, for a few moments, Theon thought he saw something of emotion dart across his father's visage, yet to this day, he still remains unsure as to whether it was pride or sadness or any other, for his father was, in truth, a stranger to him.

When the host reached the Twins, Theon thought it a truly unique castle, a tactical utilisation worth its lack of a greater, more consolidated keep. Then it happened, the Freys exacted their toll. A toll they have exacted for as long as their chokehold over passage across the Green Fork of the Trident has existed. It was a toll the likes of which would never be forgotten by the northmen present there that day, an extortion and act of such dishonour that it nigh joined the Red Wedding upon its platform of unwavering infamy.

From the Twins, the Stark host marched south at a rapid pace. It was not long before they were amidst the thick of the Second Hammer Uprising. The Siege of Oldstones was, in truth, the last of the uprising within the Riverlands, but for the Starks it was only the beginning of their war, and for Theon, it was a turning point of considerable affect in his life. Amidst the thick of the siege within the ruined castle, a treacherous Riverlands noble caught the heir to the Dreadfort by surprise, and with a swift two strikes, carved Theon's face open as if it were a chicken on a chopping board. It was a moment of utter shock and horror, but in the heat of battle, with the blood of the direwolf and the first men coarsing through his veins, Theon managed to strike back. He smashed his mace into the man's helm, letting forth a scream borne solely of his survival instinct, knocking the man off his stance, before ending him with a second blow to the chest, the spikes of his weapon ending the traitor's being.

Moments later, Theon himself stumbled and fell. Till this day he remembers no more of the siege after such, but only remembers waking with a maester tending to him, and several high ranking Stark men of both Winterfell and the Dreadfort surrounding his bed. They were evidently relieved, the castellan of the Dreadfort greatly so, no doubt he had dreaded having to relay the news to Theon's mother, the Lady Alysanne, that her eldest son and heir had died in battle, his first battle of all things.

With the uprising in the Riverlands crushed, the Stark host soon marched back north. Theon was barely cognisant for the earliest stages of it, still enthralled by the pain of his wound, no matter his consumption of milk of the poppy. It took some time for the pain to abate, and as it did, in its place it left quite a scar across the left side of the lordling's visage, a feature that has made him most recognisable ever since.

435 - 438 A.C. We Are The Winter

North of the Neck once more. There was a safety to have Moat Cailin in between the entirety of the south and oneself, one Theon felt greatly and close to his heart in the aftermath of the Uprising. His wounds, with time, had healed, but they had left quite the scar. There was an incident. One within the Dreadfort was overheard to be making a jape at the Heir's expense. This was the first time the rage that was of the Wolves of the Dreadfort truly shined through in Theon Stark.

While for many years Theon had thought of himself as the Wolf of Two Coats, it was not until now that such a beast was truly born. The rumours know not the precise truth, and have been thoroughly silenced by Theon's mother, but they do still survive within the Dreadfort amidst the quietest of tones. It is said that a Stark banner hung nearby, and in that moment, the Heir to the Dreadfort tore it down and made his use of it, wrapping it around the neck of the servant and holding tight until all life left their person. It was the first time Theon took a life outside of battle.

As Theon saw it, it was his right, his duty, and his place, to take the life of the servant, and any others who might oppose him with such slander and mockery. He was the son of Lord Jon Stark of the North, and Lady Alysanne Stark of the Dreadfort. Within the world that was the North, he ranked above the vast majority of peoples, and they would know that even if it cost them dearly.

The Dreadfort was his home now. With his father gone and his niece inherited, Winterfell was less so his hunting ground now. And with him of the original seven retainers, were now just four Rogar, Barthogan, Willam and Arnolf. The other three had not been so fortunate as to survive the Uprising.

Time at the Dreadfort would see Theon's skills in the arts of archery improve greatly. His precision with a bow was like no other, the master-at-arms alongside many others within the Dreadfort began to oft remark upon just how stunning his skill was, for it seemed that no matter the weather, the conditions, the light, the target, even with winter growing all around them, Theon shot true.

Not was the bow his only tool. These years saw Theon's tact for the shadows, for combat with blades of a short length, daggers, improve fiercly. Between his skill with a bow and his skill with the dagger, it soon became oft remarked that Theon was indeed the Dreadfort made flesh, for what was of greater dread than a foe one cannot see coming, than a foe that strikes silently and swiftly, and is gone long before the cry of the dawn.

Yet the dawn did come, each and every day. But it was the night's that were of the truest revelations. War changes a man. Especially a young man. It did not take Theon long to indulge for the first. She was of simple station, a pretty serving girl. Theon was near six and ten when it happened. Their dalliance last some two moons, just past the close of his sixteenth nameday. He grew tired with her, and so pushed her aside. But it was cold now, with winter having enthralled Westeros, and Theon desired the warmth he had found in the serving girl.

In late 435 A.C., a trip to Winterfell was called for. It needed to take place before the snows fell too thick. Theon visited the crypts, and his father's resting place. The statue was not yet complete, no doubt it would not be for ready for some years yet. Of course, Theon visited upon his niece, the new Warden of the North, Lady Berena Stark, but she proved not to be the main attraction of his short stay. Such attraction proved to be the Lady Sansa Slate, wife to a distant cousin, Osric Stark. She was four years his senior, but Theon looked a man now, and Osric had always been a dull one. Even as children, Osric had little held the interest of any within Winterfell. It did not take long for the affair to begin. Osric clearly wasn't doing his job.

For the remainder of this erstwhile Stark of Winterfell's time within these walls of northern power, Sansa Slate was his self-given mandate. Consequently, Theon and his retinue remained longer than they should have. Osric grew suspicios and atttempted to give Theon the steel that the Dreadfort heir had metaphorically been giving to Osric's wife. He almost succeeded, if it had not been for Willam and Arnolf, Gods know. Some months later, word reached Theon that Osric Stark and Sansa Slate had been blessed with a son, Cregan Stark.

Home once more, the snows thickened, winter's grip tightened, and the cold came evermore. The thought briefly crossed of his mind as to how his brother faired upon the Wall. It had been so long since he had seen him, since they had talked. All those years ago, they had sworn to one another that they would write. They had, for a brief while, and while the Night's Watch did indeed prefer to keep those bonds strong if they could, so as to gain men and support from nearby Houses, the letters grew sparse and few, and soon had become none. But the present drew back Theon's mind from the northernmost edge of the world.

Yet such was not to stop the northernmost edge of the world coming south. In the height of winter, in 436 A.C., Theon's youngest brother, Torrhen, succumbed to a winter fever, leaving the Dreadfort with but one male heir, Theon himself. Unlike the previous loss of Cregard, which had been felt long ago, and the stillbirth of Wynafryd in 424 A.C., Torrhen had been as a junior to Theon, as one he could mold and teach, yet also one he could readily enjoy bouts of mischief with. Torrhen's death struck Theon hard, and it was a loss that would be felt for sometime.

So in late 436 A.C., Theon found a bedwarmer once more. Unlike previously with the serving girl or Sansa Slate in Winterfell, the relationship blossomed more so than the previous two had. Raya Whitepeak, whose family served Starks of the Dreadfort, proved a more than suitable lover in Theon's eyes. Notably, she allowed him the freedoms he desired as a Stark and the heir to the Dreadfort, and was more than open to his proclivities. And so, even with the break of winter some two years later, their relationship remained, ending only as Theon grew tired of her.

Recent Events

438 A.C.

Theon travels with his mother, Lady Alysanne Stark, and his notably older niece and liege, Lady Berena Stark, to Fairmarket, to see his niece, Gilliane Stark wed to Lord Androw Tully.

Within the Dreadfort there have been whispers of a possible match for Theon himself.

Theon placed third in the melee at Fairmarket, using only a dagger.

Theon placed first in the horse race at Fairmarket, besting his remaining competition by quite a distance.

Theon marries Jeyne Frey. While the marriage is consummated, some whisper that the bride was not entirely willing.

439 A.C.

Theon ascends to be Lord of the Dreadfort after the death of his mother.

Theon participates the in the war against the Wildlings.

With the death of the king and news of the Great Council, Theon heads south to King's Landing.

Family

Theon Stark and two of his five younger siblings; Sybelle and Serena, are the product of the union that brought together the two separated lineages of House Stark. Although his other siblings Cregard, Wynafryd and Torrhen were from the same union, as consequence of vows and premature death, they are removed from the succession. As such, Theon, Sybelle, and Serena hold a unique position within the North, as children of the previous Warden of the North, while also heirs to the Dreadfort.

House Stark of Winterfell

House Stark of the Dreadfort

Retinue

Rogar Whitehill, childhood friend.

Barthogan Bitchbreaker, childhood friend.

Willam Redmyn, childhood friend.

Arnolf Greystone, childhood friend.