Burning the Wolf
by: Eclipsedwonderland
The letters sprawled across the page didn't even look like his own. The scratch was hard to read and obviously hurried, but Theon didn't care. His breath raced through his lips and down into his chest as he watched the words float before him. He couldn't take them back, he knew, but he wondered what had possessed him to write to Robb Stark. Robb was a wolf, hated by the Greyjoys. Yet... All Theon could remember was Robb the boy who chased him through the Godswood, Robb who led him into battle at the Whispering Wood and Robb the king whom he had sworn himself to. Robb wasn't a Stark at this moment, Robb was his closest friend and not one easily forgotten.
Theon's heart flew into a million directions trying to shred itself in its efforts, setting his insides ablaze like the Riverlands. Everything was torn and unfocused, everything so much less simple than it once was. When Bran climbed, Jon shot arrows with them, Arya rough housed and Sansa smiled politely. Winterfell was...
"Home." He realized with a start.
In some ways, he felt more wolf than kraken. Lord Eddard had taught him honor and humility, strength and courage. "Mercy" the wolf in him roared. He had sworn fealty, this was his honor. Yet the kraken knew no honor, it slithered silent in the deeps waiting, watching. At the opportune moment, it exploded turning ships to shreds in seconds and obliterating any sign of it. The kraken did not have courage, did not need courage. Only wit and iron skin. The wolf gave mercy, the kraken obliterated all, it did not matter who was innocent.
So where did that leave him?
He was no Robb Stark, willing to fight to the ends of the earth to keep the honor of his family, willing to ride headlong into battle without regard for his life. He was no wolf. Yet he was no oathbreaker, either. He rode headlong next to Robb and did not shy at the idea of battle. He was no kraken.
Who was he?
The wolf and kraken wrestled as his hand trembled, eyes scanning but hardly reading the page in front of him. It was a choice, he realized, an impossible choice. To choose one family over another. One loyalty over another. He tried to envision what Ned Stark would do, would he preserve family or honor?
Then he remembered. There was only family to choose from, Robb had made sure of that. "You are no Stark," howled in his head as the wolf bared its teeth and drove them straight into Theon's heart.
I am no Stark, I am a Greyjoy. Ironborn. Honorless. Hard. Merciless.
Theon bit his lip, wondering if he was making the right choice. Honor or family. Finally, his heart spoke. He sought a place back in his family, he sought glory and a throne. With a final resolve, he dipped the letter into the liquid flame and watched as it slowly caught fire. The fire wrapped its tentacles further up the soft white of the parchment. Theon saw Winterfell explode under the unstoppable force, Robb staring blankly from beyond the grave, the godswood bursting into a million reds and oranges as the flame made its slow conquering path. Soon the kraken gained speed and whipped across the parchment and, suddenly, right before turning to ash, Theon fancied seeing Ned Stark's face gazing at him with his hard, Northern eyes.
In a sudden rush, Theon slammed the letter down on the floor, crushing the last cinders of it beneath his roughened boot. He smiled his confident smirk as he repeatedly smeared the wolf until it disappeared into the stone floor of Pyke.
"I am a Greyjoy. I am a kraken." He whispered, but the wolf howled distantly in despair, "Turncloak, turncloak."
Hope you enjoyed, please R&R :).
-Eclipsed