"Father, what is it?" Sansa asked, her hands twisting in the folds of her skirts. "Septa Mordane said you wanted to see me right away."
"Sit down, both of you." Lord Eddard sounded weary as he spoke to them. "King Robert has a proposal he'd like you to hear-"
Sansa and Theon sat down opposite her father and the King, dutifully waiting for them to speak.
"We have been thinking for a long time about your prospective marriage, Sansa. You are a growing girl, and will soon be a woman." Robert started, sounding a little pompous. "As a daughter of one of the great Houses, your marriage is important to us all."
Theon still thought of her a little girl, always prissy and put together, never a wrinkle or a hair out of place. Her and the Poole girl used to linger in the yard while he trained with the Stark lads, blushing and giggling like the silly girls that they were. In a couple of years she would be a looker, the evidence was there already. He had more than enough sense not to think any further on it. She was surrounded by two brothers who were friendly enough but would have his guts if he even thought of her in that way. It just wasn't worth the aggravation and the hassle even going down that road, not when there were other girls available to slake his needs.
None as pretty as her though.
"Sansa you are coming to the age where we have to seriously consider a match for you." Ned sighed as he talked, backing Robert up. "It is unfortunate that Joffrey proved unsuitable. It would have been a great match but we had to consider your safety. I have talked to King Robert here, and he offered a solution. It was good of him to consider your welfare, even when it clashes with his son's self-interest."
"What did he say, Father?" Sansa gave him a wary look. "Your Grace?"
"He suggested I marry you to Theon, to secure the Iron Isles."
"He did what?" Theon felt his voice rise into an undignified squawk. He started at his lord, shocked by his statement. Whatever he had expected, Ned had just swept the feet from under him.
Ned carried on, ignoring their equally shocked faces. Sansa's face was drained pale. She clutched the arms of the chair, willing her hands not to tremble.
"I have to say, this was somewhat unexpected for me too. It was King Robert who proposed this idea to me." "Is this your will, your Grace. You want me to marry Theon?" she asked Robert, her voice perfectly steady and polite even in her shock and distress.
"Aye, lass. It would be the best thing for you. If you're married and bedded by the time we return then the Lannisters can't do anything about it. Joffrey won't be able to have you if you're already wed, can he?"
She opened her mouth, actually struck dumb for once.
Robert went on, pressing his advantage. "You could do something that no one else can. You with one union could bring peace to the region. Isn't that a noble thing to do? You'd be a heroine."
Ned doubted that when Sansa dreamt of being a heroine from a tale she had envisaged her fate turning out like this. Despite her best efforts at concealing her disappointment her face fell.
"I must approach your father with details before things are finalised but we think it might be the best solution for all involved. Perhaps we might be able to arrange a return to your homeland. You have been with us for many years." Ned said, turning to Theon. "Perhaps this union can be the basis of a new peace treaty. A way to amend and build bridges-"
"Yes you'll make a fine couple. A new era and a turn in the fortunes of House Greyjoy. You should both be pleased!" Robert announced, very pleased with himself for thwarting his wife's machinations.
Sansa threw herself onto the bed. She couldn't believe what her father had just told her. She could have died of mortification.
Her to marry Theon Greyjoy? To leave her home and all she knew to join him in the Iron Isles?
She knew little about the place. Only the tales of the other men and Theon himself. It sounded like a grim forbidding place, a harsh uncompromising landscape, now to be her home.
She had thought that when her father said he had made arrangements for her marriage that the king had spoken on his visit to Winterfell and made an offer on Joffrey's behalf. She had not been mistaken, there was definite interest from the prince and Cersei had praised her beauty and been very kind.
Father knew she wanted to make a good match, to marry a grand lord and make her family proud. She had been less keen when the incident with Bran had happened but she didn't think that Father would change his mind and decide to give her to Theon instead.
Septa Mordane and Arya were already in her mother's solar ready to work on their tapestries.
"So what did Father want?" Arya asked as soon as she saw her elder sister.
"Arya Stark, there's no need to be so nosy! Your sister will tell you in her own time, if she's going to tell you at all." reproved Septa Mordane giving her charge a disapproving look.
Arya pouted and made a face behind the Septa's back.
Sansa sat down and bit her lip, willing herself to be strong and not cry at the thought of being married to Theon. "Father gave me a proposal of marriage. I can't quite believe it."
"Oh Sansa, I can't believe you're going to be married! How lucky you are!" Jeyne's eyes shone with happiness and excitement for her dearest friend, envisaging the ceremony and new dresses and feasts. "Who is it? Where are you going? Dorne? Highgarden? The Twins?"
"Pyke." Sansa's voice was a leaden undertone.
"What?" Arya and Jeyne spoke at the same time astounded by what she had revealed. Surely this was some kind of a jape. The King and Father couldn't have really given her to Theon instead. No wonder she looked like she was on the verge of tears!
"I'm going to Pyke. They're marrying me to Theon Greyjoy. They're sending us both to the Iron Isles."
"Oh you poor girl-" Septa Mordane said, her voice full of sympathy. "The match with Prince Joffrey is off officially. Father and the King want me married off as soon as possible. They have a plan to return Theon to his home with me as his bride." Sansa's voice was muffled from Septa Mordane's maternal hug.
Arya started to feel a little bit sorry for her if she was honest. Sansa had been so looking forward to marriage and even though she had been perfectly insufferable when she was engaged to Joffrey, this had to be a major come-down.
"At least you won't be marrying Joffrey. That's something, isn't it? Don't tell me you actually liked him?"
"I wouldn't expect you to understand. I could have been a queen-" Sansa had to suppress a sob. She knew she was being childish and silly, that Joffrey had hurt Bran and easily could have killed him. That she was scared of marrying with his volatile temper and penchant for cruelty.
"You are really upset about this, aren't you?" Jeyne squeezed her hand, her large dark eyes wide with sympathy.
Septa Mordane decided to take charge, noticing Sansa's upset. "Arya, Jeyne leave me with Lady Sansa, please."
"Does that mean we're excused lessons?" Arya said slyly taking advantage of the situation. "We can go early?"
"Just this once." the Septa said in a severe tone, her thin mouth drawn into a line. "- but don't get the idea this is going to be a regular occurrence!"
Arya tried and failed to look suitably contrite even at the prospect of a free afternoon liberated from the tyranny of the needle and the harp. She scarpered away before the Septa could change her mind.
When Jon and Robb heard the news about Sansa and her new match -with Theon Greyjoy of all people - they couldn't quite believe it.
"What is father thinking? He can't really want to admit him to the family?" Jon frowned as he sharpened his sword by the Godswood, Robb sat near him
"Theon's not so bad, once you get to know him." Robb said, trying to be reasonable even though he was as shocked as the rest of the family. "He's still coming to terms with it himself. But it's a great chance for him and his clan. He'd be a fool not to accept and at least he would be able to return home with honour and as the heir to the Iron Isles."
Having been on the end of his sharp tongue more than once Jon begged to differ. He couldn't see his ladylike gentle-bred sister living with the Ironborn with any harmony.
"Does he even want her? Because he's never any sign of interest before."
"Well he wouldn't, would he? But he would be a fool to say no, and it's the King's will by all accounts."
Jon was not convinced. As far as he was concerned, Theon Greyjoy was not remotely marriage material and not for his sister!
"There's obviously something wrong, so come out with it and stop sulking, Snow." Theon said, irritated by Jon's sighing and glares. He was worse than a sulking maid sometimes, he swore. If he clucked his tongue at him one more time, he would cut it off at the root ans serve it to him for supper.
"The fact of the matter is I don't think you deserve her!" Jon burst out, as if he had been dying to unburden himself for some time. The words exploded out of him like water from a suddenly breached dam.
"Deserve who? What are you going on about?"
Jon was so wound up, he burst out with it, heedless of the reaction he might get. "Sansa. You don't deserve my sister!"
Well, don't hold back, Snow, say what you really think! thought Theon, irritated by his negativity. Annoyed by his assumption that he was going to mindlessly abuse his betrothed like some uneducated brute.
"You dare to speak to me like this. Do you have some kind of a death wish or something, Snow?"
Jon's face reddened in anger. Theon felt a familiar sense of satisfaction at provoking Jon. It was far too easy like shooting trout in a barrel.
"I know what you're like. Spending all your nights up at Winter Town, tupping whores and getting dead drunk."
"You're not going to hold that against me? Just because I like to have a good time? There's precious little else available to do here." he mocked, enjoying getting under the skin of the other man.
"You're not cheating on my sister." Jon's fist clenched by his side, his mouth set in sheer sternness.
Theon wouldn't have been surprised if he had intended to swing for him soon. Theon stopped mid-stride. "Who said that I was planning to?"
"I know you-" Jon scoffed.
Theon gave him a rather sharp smile calculated to wound. "So you keep saying."
Jon's chin went up."You deny what everyone knows. You've boasted enough times of Salt Wives and lovers. Sansa is young and innocent I won't have you taking advantage and hurting her."
"You think that I'm going to take Sansa as a salt-wife?" Theon let out a burst of inappropriate laughter at the thought. Frankly he wouldn't dare.
Lord Eddard and the king had taken him aside and made it very clear to him the terms of his release back home the the Isles. If he were to take Sansa, she would be his true married wife in sight of law and custom or no deal. "They'll be no salt-wives for you lad. You'll be faithful to the girl, or Ned here and I will want to know the reason why."
"Yes, your Grace." he said meekly, not wishing to test whether Robert Baratheon's meaty fist was as heavy as ever.
"I and my family take a great interest in the girl's future. Just because she isn't marrying my Joffrey doesn't mean I don't care what happens to her. I'm settling some lands and a suitable dowry on the lass in addition to your father's provision. You won't go hungry in Pyke, I assure thee."
Theon wasn't sure that was a great idea. He may not have been to his homeland in some time, but even he remembered they were a proud race. Charity even in the guise of a generous dowry would not go down well.
"I know you have a low opinion of us Iron-folk but I don't think I'm actually that stupid. So rest assured, she will be perfectly happy. Not that it's any of your business." he strode off before Jon could irritate him further, leaving him gaping in shock.
I can't allow myself to get angry. He's saying these things because he cares about her. Even after he'd told himself that, Theon still rankled under Jon's warning. How dare he talk to me like that? To be rebuked by a bastard! Even as he thought it, Theon had to admit that Jon had a point. He'd scarcely tried to hide his exploits at the brothel at Winterfell Town, almost proud of his reputation as a ladies' man.
All eyes are going to be on me. They're all waiting to see me fail. Well, I'm not going to give them the satisfaction.
