Snow fell softly outside, just as softly as Sansa's tears. They fell. One. Two. Three onto her pillow without a sound. As each tear rolled down her pale cheeks she remembered another reason it would be better to be dead. But Sansa would not cry for long; just long enough to say the names of those she would avenge. She said them under her breath in that of a prayer. "Father...Mother...Robb..Arya.. Bran...Rickon…" Their names were her solace. She said them before she ate. Before she slept and when she woke. She said their names within her mind when Ramsey came to her at night. When she walked the empty halls that used to feel like her home. Whenever she needed to remember why she was in fact, alive, she repeated their names. To remember and to avenge.
Today her tears came quicker and wouldn't leave. Ramsay hurt her more than just forcing himself on her every night. Sansa already knew his heart must be made of cold iron but, she also discovered his fists were the the same when he struck her for daring to refuse his nightly desires. She now laid on a bed that disgraced and shamed her; with fresh bruises that cover her legs and tear stained cheek.
The tightness in her throat threatened to cut off all the air left in her body as Theon, or what was left of Theon, entered her chambers. Sansa didn't realize he was in her room at all until he placed her food on her nightstand. When she heard him, she quickly wiped her face clear of any tears, and when she met his eyes she had to control herself from letting the walls around her heart crumble.
Theon...The one miserable person in all of Winterfell who might be as reduced to shame and tears as herself. When she first saw him sleeping with the dogs, Sansa believed he deserved every ounce of cruelty that befell him. When Ramsay forced an apology from Theon's lips, it surprised her, how much it hurt to hear he was sorry.
At that time she didn't believe a word of it, still didn't, but it pained her all the same. On her wedding night when he said Ramsay would hurt him she could have laughed in his face to think she should care. Oh how wrong she had been…Ramsay is wretched in a way even Joffrey never was. Or perhaps they are exactly the same and different levels of power changed their ability to be sadistic monsters.
Whatever the case Sansa realized on her wedding night just how dangerous it was to be back in Winterfell. Ramsay is a bastard both by birth and character. Theon knew that. Looking at the ghost of the man she once greatly admired, Sansa, for the first time since arriving in Winterfell, wondered what hells Theon endured at the hands of her husband.
His once handsome face looked sullen and depressed. His broad shoulders hunched and shaking. But his eyes were still alive, but even now they were hooded with fear. This was not the same man she knew when she was young, but she also believed he was not the same man who killed her brothers and betrayed her family. Sansa though, was not naive enough to believe that, that meant she could trust him.
He looked away, and before Sansa had a chance to say something, he was gone. Not that she knew what to say. Certainly not any form of thanks or pity… Well perhaps pity? She would tell him how much she hated him. She would tell him how sorry she was for not taking his arm at her wedding for surely that is why they both suffered that night. Sansa would tell him many things of King's Landing, and the hell she endured there. She would make him cry for the crimes he committed against her family. She would say everything vial she had to keep within herself since arriving in Winterfell.
Yet the only words she spoke, barely above a whisper, to the place Theon had stood was "help me."
A/N: Feedback maybe? This is my first non-oneshot so please be gentle with it.