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———
"Who knows," he added thoughtfully, leaning back slightly, "he might even be able to give you a proper fight. Or he would, if… well," Robb hesitated for just a fraction of a second, "if he wasn't a Snow." The unspoken weight of that name, the difference between a Stark and a Snow, hung in the air for a moment, a reminder of the rigid lines drawn by birth and status in their world.
…
"A bastard?" Tytan echoed Robb's words, then took another thoughtful sip of wine. He looked from Robb's earnest face to Theon's still-smirking one.
"Honestly, I don't mind fighting a bastard," Tytan said with a shrug that conveyed complete indifference to the label.
"Makes no difference to me what side of the sheets someone was born on." A faint, almost invisible smirk touched his own lips for a moment.
After all, he himself had been born a bastard in his previous life, back when he answered to the name Percy Jackson.
The whole fuss and stigma surrounding illegitimate children in Westeros seemed ridiculous to him, born purely out of the greed and fear of established nobles, all terrified someone might pop up with a claim, however flimsy, to challenge their precious titles and lands.
"Besides," Tytan added with a grin, "in the very unlikely event this Jon Snow does actually manage to land a hit on me tomorrow… hell, I'll buy the lad a drink afterwards for managing it."
He paused, swirling the dark wine in his goblet. "Though," he continued, his tone shifting slightly, becoming more serious, "I honestly can't figure out why anyone would want to join the Night's Watch these days. From everything I hear, it's nothing more than a frozen cesspit at the edge of the world. A dumping ground for the Seven Kingdoms' trash thieves, murderers, debtors, and rapists who chose the Wall over losing their heads or worse."
Theon and Robb both nodded slowly as they heard that, their expressions growing a bit more somber. It wasn't the first time they'd heard such talk.
Many of the Stark guardsmen, veterans who knew the realities of the North, muttered similar things. Even some of the northern lords spoke dismissively of the Watch, seeing it as a shadow of its former glory.
Robb had even tried bringing up some of these darker rumours with Jon before, warning him about what he might be getting into, but his half-brother got incredibly defensive and prickly whenever the topic came up, refusing to listen.
"Wait a second," Robb suddenly frowned, leaning forward again, clearly puzzled by something Tytan had said. "Why did you say castrated rapists? I thought the law was clear: caught rapists either take the black and join the Watch, or they get their manhood cut off. It was one or the other, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, that used to be the law," Tytan replied bluntly, his sea-green eyes hardening slightly. There was no amusement in his voice now.
"I had it changed a few years back. Didn't seem like much of a choice, letting scum like that keep their balls just because they agreed to freeze them off at the Wall. Nowadays, rapists caught and convicted get a simpler choice: they take the black and they get castrated before they go. Or they face the headsman right then and there. No more loopholes."
Tytan had seen enough vile acts in his old life and this new one; he had zero tolerance for that particular crime, and now that he actually had the power to enforce real consequences, he used it.
"Gods… brutal," Theon muttered, instinctively shifting in his seat and almost covering his own crotch with his hand, wincing at the mere thought.
Robb, however, just stared at Tytan, looking genuinely surprised. His mind seemed to be working, processing the implications. It wasn't just the harshness of the new law that struck him, but the casual way Tytan mentioned changing it.
"Wait… you had it changed?" Robb asked slowly, realization dawning in his eyes. "You mean… you personally? Not the King?" He was suddenly seeing a glimpse of the real power the Crown Prince apparently wielded, far more than just being the King's eldest son.
Before anyone could say more about laws or punishments, though, their small group was suddenly interrupted. Two small figures darted between the crowded tables, weaving expertly through the legs of drinkers and servers.
It was Arya Stark, her brown hair escaping its braids as usual, and her slightly younger brother, Bran, following close behind her.
Both of them had wide, excited eyes, and they skidded to a halt right beside the table where Tytan, Robb, and Theon were sitting.
Tytan cocked an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by their sudden appearance and even more by the looks on their faces.
They weren't looking at Robb or Theon; their excited gazes were fixed squarely on him.
Considering he'd barely exchanged more than a polite, formal greeting with either of them when he first arrived a quick nod, maybe a "Well met" he couldn't imagine why they'd look so thrilled to see him now. Did he have food on his face?
"Hey, Arya! Bran!" Robb spoke up first, sounding like the responsible older brother. "Shouldn't you two be in bed by now?" He glanced quickly towards the high table, checking if their mother, Lady Catelyn, had noticed their escape.
She was still locked in that stiff conversation with Queen Cersei, neither woman paying much attention to the rest of the hall at the moment.
Though Robb did catch the Queen casting a few calculating, speculative glances towards where Sansa was still sitting, happily chatting with Joffrey. That made Robb frown slightly.
Arya, however, completely ignored her older brother's question. Her attention was laser-focused on Tytan.
She practically bounced on the balls of her feet, her grey eyes, bright and intense like chips of northern stone, twinkling with sheer excitement as she looked up at the tall Crown Prince.
"Is it true?" she blurted out, her voice clear and eager.
Tytan leaned back slightly, a flicker of amusement crossing his face at her unrestrained energy. "Is what true, little wolf?" he asked, playing along.
"Is it true what the servants are whispering?" Arya pressed on, leaning forward conspiratorially, her voice dropping to a loud stage whisper that carried easily over the surrounding noise. "That you were blessed by the gods? That you have… magic powers?"
At her words, a sudden hush fell over their immediate section of the table. Robb and Theon, who had maybe been about to exchange amused looks about the kids being out of bed, both snapped their attention fully onto Tytan, their earlier conversation forgotten.
Their own expressions turned curious, interested, waiting intently for his answer.
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