Iron Price

The red curls were shining like the sun.

"Bring you gold?"

The wind stroked Theon Greyjoy's hair, the squawk of seagulls flying near his Sea Bitch flooded his ears, the wet and salty smell of the sea came to his nose. A sly smile played on his lips as all his senses were consumed by Robb Stark.

"And what will be my reward?"

"Reward?" Asked Robb ironically. "There will be no reward until I see the gold, Greyjoy."

"I will bring you so much gold that there would be left over to wipe your ass with it."

Robb laughed, Theon instantly chuckled when he caught him in his arms. His fingers pressed on the waist, completely taking him toward him. Theon cocked his head, tilting his lips to the opposites. He licked the lower, would have placed this on the others, however, Robb turned his face.

"I will reward you when I see the gold." The wolf's index finger stucked in the middle of his chest. "Meanwhile think what will you ask in return."

Robb turned away and vertiginous left the Sea Bitch.

"Then get ready to reward me for your whole life."

His view was held captive in Robb Stark at the time he sailed. Hungry his eyes were seeing Robb's legs, entirely, imagining how his hands would shake them and despoil them of that tight dark pants; these dilated as they went up the belly, in his elaborated mind hundreds of photomontages were created, in all of them Robb appeared around his arms, moaning and allowing him to satisfy his most minimum and greedy request. Although no matter how he imagined it, in his bed and his hands always he had one or another girl, minimally similar to his real desire.

His father had not given him any longship, all he gave him was a slap; not even in cases of looting Balon Greyjoy wanted to trust him. Theon every now and then went out to sea to loot, but with more longships and with Robb. This time he did so alone, only to gain the trust of his father, who was worth to nothing when asking for men and ships.

"Wex, bring me the bow and quiver."

The boy ran off in search of the weapons. He had forgotten how boring it could become the boy, he did not blame him, he would be more interesting if he had not been born dumb. Yet that's one of the things he liked about him, he obeyed without saying a word.

Wex held firmly the shield, while Theon tighten the bow and launched the arrows in the middle of the shield. At the end the boy removed the arrows, returning them to him and the game began again.

When his fingers got tired he left the bow and he spent the seconds recalling the times when looting with Robb and mocked of Jon Snow. There was one in particular who constantly stole a laugh of him, It happened one evening in particular, in a bar also somewhat unusual.

"Come on, Snow." It was what Theon said, squeezing the ass of a red-haired prostitute. The long, amused smile along the mockingly in her voice was not lacking. "Without teeth, won't bite you."

"Fuck off, Greyjoy." Jon answered him, finishing the last drops of his drink to go.

That night Robb laughed at all his jokes.

Two days later Wex gave him notice of the approach of a ship. Theon recognized in the banners the Flayed Man of Dreadfort, it was a Bolton longship. He had heard a hundred of stories about Bolton's, one more terrible than the last; he also understood that they were loyal to the Stark's. But not to the Greyjoy's.

His ironborn enlisted, with the promise of gold they stopped looking at him like a weak child of the green lands. They used the night to jump to the ship's deck, at the time his Sea Bitch collided with this.

Wex was the first to follow him, his soldiers did not take long to roll with fierce force. His ears were intoxicated by the sound of steel on steel, the fervent cries of his ironborn and piercing screams of the men who passed through the edge of his ax.

He paused to see how Wex's sword crossed a child's shoulder blades, almost the same age as his squire. Theon gave the boy a slight smile just when their eyes met.

It was the last smile he outlined that night.

As he turned in search of a new victim all he found was a robust torso against his face. He felt a blow on his belly, was of such magnitude that made him bend over and take arms around. The second blow came to the front side of his head, he fell without delay.

Stunned, his eyes lost in all the scenarios, one to one his men fell, Wex was the last: the child's throat was cut from side to side. For a moment he thanked the buzz around his ears, inconsistent and annoying, which pushed away the diying cries that his soldiers threw in their terminal seconds; and exhaustion forced him to lower his eyelids, he did not want to keep watching.

Gold, he would do so many things with such booty, however, exclusively he waited expectantly his reward, he already felt the juicy flavor of having Robb screaming his name while getting the climax. Then, Theon woke up, too far from reaching his goal.

Her eyelids separated with laziness, every tiny movement hurt. An abrupt inhalation brought consequently a burning cough, followed by a crowded spit of blood. A tight handcuffs gathered his hands around the main mast. He was on his knees, his legs did not respond because of the pressure exerted on them by his body, his head down, being inspected by the brave looks of the crew.

"Did you have a good sleep, Prince?" One of the men lifted his head, pulling his hair.

"Release me!" Theon roared. "Release me!"

A punch in the mouth shut him up, moved his jaw, sore and spat again the accumulation of blood from his teeth. The men laughed in unison, were laughing at him.

"Release me!" He insisted, the scream was not as as inflaming as before. "I'll kill you!"

The answers were the same, punching and mockery. He pursed his lips, sucking some of the blood emanated, he had no strength to menace. His head fell, exhausted, the blood dripped from his nose.

"You should be grateful that the Captain wants you alive." Theon whimpered, sniffing. "We would have done so much with that nice ass of yours."

The laughter and whispers stopped, a shiver ran down his spine. He looked up, the men gave way to the Captain: Ramsay Bolton. He was a big man with broad shoulders and belly; He had pale blotchy skin, flat nose, small, together and extremely blue eyes, and long, dark, dry hair.

"Well, what do we have here?" Ramsay crouched in front of Theon. He was wearing a pink shirt with two buttons undone, a black jacket, tight trousers and long dark boots; was wearing a cloth on his forehead, some of his bangs passed over this. He had a garnet ring carved in the shape of drop of blood on the right ear.

"I'm Theon Greyjoy, Prince-"

"I know who you are, Lord Theon." Ramsay interrumped. "How could I not know who you are? I've been waiting so long for you." The worm-shaped lips lengthened. "It's a real honor that you're on my boat."

"If you know me, please, release me. I'll make you Lord if you get me out of here."

"Lord? Well, you see, I want you and no title will replace my desire."

"Release me." He said in a tone that bordered on pleading. "Let me go."

"I see that the Lord is in a hurry to leave." The icy eyes nailed at him, causing more of a shudder. "I'm afraid to inform you that can not let go. You are the best treasure that I had never"