Summary: All of his life Theon Greyjoy has only known winter.
Disclaimer: Game of Thrones does not belong to me so I make no profit off of this.
This is my attempt to get back into my writing groove. So this is just a simple oneshot. I apologize for my grammar I sadly have no beta so any mistakes are made by the author.
Title: Cold
Theon could never get use to the winter of the North. Winter seeps through the cracks of the castle, over fires and blankets and steals all the warmth like a greedy child or a poor bed partner.
When he was younger still too ignorant of his situation, before he realized that he would never return home and hear the sweet call of the sea. Robb would crawl into bed with him and like children they would curl close to one another. As he slept he would hum softly a lullaby to soothe Theon's childish fears.
The only time Theon's been warm is with another body to hold close. He could not stand the cold and the ache in his bones it would produce. But like the passing of the seasons the late night bed sharing would stop as they grew older and they began to grow into the roles life had prepared for him. So Theon had to find warmth elsewhere.
So much like an unwanted child that he was Theon drifted from one bed to another seeking a night to stave away the freezing winds of the North a willing bed partner to hold him close in the night.
Like a child he would cling to them with a sigh of happiness. Some of the whores would whisper softly to him sweet words bought by coin or pity and hum a lullaby as he drifted to sleep. The song were always off beat but something old and quiet in the silence of the howling winds an old Northern lullaby would be all that Theon heard.
As he drifted he would remind himself to ask the name of the tune in the morning. But when the sun in its meager heat would crept through the sky Theon would forget the notion of asking about the songs that were sang to him in the night.
It was just another mark of evidence of his status of the kraken in his blood. He was a child of the sea and there were never any soft lullaby's to sing. On the rare occasion he had no bed partner he would try to hum a song that was filled with half remembered words and a tune that was a mixture of memory and northern influence.
Theon could not remember the song of his home as it was shuffled somewhere in the echoes of his memory. But Theon did not need sweet words or a lullaby he was iron and steel and the dangers of the sea that were unforgiving and without mercy. He would contend himself with this knowledge as the truth.
But like everything else in his life he would regret that later among other things.
The only warmth he could remember of his past that did not come from a good hard fucking was from Robb. His brother and Lord, with him and his approval Theon never knew cold. He always had Robb to keep him warm.
He only worried about the cold when the night would come and he had to lie still with no continues movement keeping him warm. When the night came and the quiet Theon would hunt for a body to share a bed with.
Later he would learn that there were other times in life he would feel the icy claws of winter's grasp.
The rejection from his father who scorned his Northern upbringing, even though it was he who tossed Theon to the wolves. Theon who was the last of the Greyjoy sons given away to the winter like an unwanted babe.
Betraying Robb.
Having his men dismiss him and revealing the fact that he did not have enough of the sea in his blood to be worth following.
Betraying Bran and the people of the North who were never his family but the closes thing to a family he could consider his even though they themselves never saw him as one.
Meeting Ramsay Bolton.
Then becoming Reek who was cold all the time and never knew what warmth even felt like that did not included pain that burned so hot as it was akin to fire and sometimes it was literally fire that burned him.
Then hearing about Robb's death and Theon living with the knowledge that he was not there with him, not there to die with him. He was supposed to die with him at his side as he should have always been. But with Robb's death so too did Theon's hope die and he became Reek thereafter.
Little Reek who was born in the dungeon with the cold seeping into his weaken bones. Who never knew warmth or love or happiness except by the will of his Lord.
Small pathetic Reek whose tears only brought him scorn and more pain.
But it was what he deserved he did not die with his true King so how could he go on when his Sun had vanished from his world?
Neither Theon nor Reek could stand the cold.
And in the dungeons or the stables or anywhere that did not have Ramsey watching as he suffered he hummed a song that had no words but gave him comfort all the same.
I really hope Theon gets his redemption or arc or something because his life has been filed with so much heartbreak and cruelty. Some of it might have been deserved but damn. Poor guy.