Author's Note: I meant to get this up yesterday night, but I somehow got busy and I missed my deadline. So, sorry about that. And once more…I didn't intend for this to be such a long chapter, I was going to add more, but I realized I should end the chapter where I did. Again, allow me to thank you, my dear readers, I really do appreciate all of you. Just some quick notes, we're going to go along with the show in the fact that the Greatjon was not at the Red Wedding, and therefore he is not being held prisoner at the Twins. And a reminder that I went with Yara as Theon's sister's name instead of Asha, simply because I posted this under Game of Thrones and not A Song of Ice and Fire.
Chapter 29
Theon stood on the deck of the boat, his elbows propped on the rail as he eyes looked to the west. He wasn't in a friendly mood that afternoon and he was no fit company for anyone. So he kept his distance from those he still traveled with. They had parted ways with Lord Manderly and his main party just the day before. Brienne and Podrick went with him, taking the fork in the White Knife that would lead them closer to Winterfell. Theon, Sansa, and Olvyar kept going North. He had handed over Needle to Podrick, telling him to make sure he got the sword to Arya. He also hadn't seen Nymeria since the group separated. Theon had figured the wolf had followed the others knowing that they were heading towards Arya. With those concrete pieces of her gone, he felt like the last little bit of her had been taken from him. He didn't like that, so he stared wistfully to the west, the direction where his heart was.
Silently, he felt a presence take up the space next to him. He did't bother to turn his gaze to the person who dared interrupt his solitude. There was only one person who would come to check up on him. Usually it was Olyvar who would keep Theon company, even if Theon didn't want him to. He was slightly surprised when the newcomer cleared their throat and it sounded more feminine than Olyvar's usual hoarse, guttural sound. Theon turned his head to see that it was Sansa who stood next to him.
"Can I help you with something, Sansa?" He said it quietly, hoping that he kept the annoyance that he felt out of his tone.
"I just wanted to see how you were." She answered him quietly. She didn't look at him, her own gaze drifted to the west. She wore a contemplative look, that made him think that she too, was thinking of Winterfell.
"I'm fine." He answered, knowing that she wouldn't believe him, but he hoped she would take the hint that her company was not required, nor was it wanted.
She let out an exasperated sigh. "You know, you're not the only one who finds this situation difficult. She's my sister." She turned to look at him, and he could see the anger and fear in her eyes. "It's my home we sail past right now. Winterfell is just over there, somewhere," she waved her hand in the general direction of where the keep would be. "I haven't been this close to it in a very, very long time. If we stopped this boat right now, got off and started walking, it would only take us days to get there. Do you know how much I long to do just that?"
There was a bitter chuckle that escaped Theon's lips before he said, "I might have some idea."
"And you also know that we can't do that. So, it makes no sense for you to sit there and mope about simply because you can't be the one that saves Arya this time." Sansa said. She did not mean to be unkind, and she hoped that he knew that was not her intention. When he said nothing, and she watched as he turned his attention back to the west, she frowned miserably. "You've been avoiding us. Olyvar thinks you're planning on doing something rash, that you're going to slip away from us one night and go to Winterfell on your own."
"Olyvar worries too much." Theon muttered.
"So you haven't thought about doing just that?" Sansa asked with a raised eyebrow. "Because, if I'm going to be honest, I've thought about it." She shrugged her shoulders when he gave her an incredulous look. "They've just been thoughts. I would never act on it. I know I don't have the skills that would be needed to carry out such a stupid plan, but I think about it. I feel like I owe it to my sister to try."
"Why do you owe it to her?" Theon asked bitterly. "It's not your fault she was taken."
"No," she agreed. "But she's in the position she's in because of me. Lord Baelish meant for me to marry Ramsay Bolton. When I was no longer an option, Arya was the only suitable replacement. Whatever she's going through right now, it was supposed to be me. It doesn't seem fair that I'm in a safer place than she is."
"She would tell you that you're being stupid." Theon commented.
Sansa let out a small laugh. "Yes, you're probably right. She would be right too, she wouldn't want me to risk myself for her sake. She wouldn't want you to risk yourself either."
"Now you're starting to sound like Olyvar." He said quietly. "The two of you have nothing to worry about. I'm not going to run off. I know our best chance at getting Arya back is to follow this path. I also know that the best way to ensure her continued safety is to take back Winterfell and defeat the Boltons. I realize that our part is just as important as Pod's and Brienne's. He paused there for a moment, then added in a voice barely above a whisper. "I just want to see her again, I want to make sure she's okay. She's all alone, and I promised her I would always be there for her."
"You don't have to physically be there for her to keep that promise." Sansa pointed out. "She won't be alone for very much longer. Brienne and Pod will watch over her for you." She lifted her shoulders in an knowing shrug. "And from the stories both she and yourself have told me of your adventures in the Riverlands, I don't think she's as helpless as you seem to think she is. She's smart Theon, I know that from growing up with her, she's not going to let the likes of Petyr Baelish and Roose Bolton break her."
"You don't know about Ramsay." He said quietly. He remembered how the man seemed to frighten his sister.
"Perhaps not, but I knew Joffrey." Sansa said, "he was cruel and he enjoyed hurting people. I saw it in his face every time he humiliated me and ordered his guards to physically abuse me. If I can survive that, someone who is stronger than me, someone like Arya will have no problems enduring whatever it is they do to her."
What she said gave Theon pause. It was the first time Sansa had opened up to him about what she had lived through during her time in King's Landing. He knew that she must have given Arya some indication as to what happened to her, but Arya had never given him any details. But Arya did mention, during those times when he and youngest Stark girl found themselves alone back at Runestone, that she thought Sansa had been forced to grow up in her time away from Winterfell, that Sansa had hardened herself, and that she doubted Sansa even realized it. "You're just as strong as Arya, Sansa, maybe in just a different way." Theon told her. "At least that's what Arya thought. She told me so many times before she was taken."
"Did you talk to her a lot about me?" Sansa asked curiously.
"Aye, a lot. She missed you, even before she was forced from Winterfell. She wouldn't have admitted it, even to herself, but she did. And after Robb was killed, she insisted that we try to rescue you from King's Landing. She wouldn't listen to reason when Olyvar and I tried to tell her it would be suicide to go. We were even on our way there before we came across Pod and Brienne and found out that you were already away from the city." Theon said. "She doesn't have as much sense as the two of us. I was never really certain what her plans were to rescue you, I don't think she even knew how to go about it. But I don't doubt that she would have found a way."
Sansa smiled at how well Theon seemed to know her sister. "She would have, when we were growing up, I remember her doing things simply because someone told her she couldn't. I missed her more than I thought I would when I went South. It's good to know that she felt the same." She let the conversation lull for a moment than peered over at hims seriously. "You would follow her anywhere, wouldn't you?"
Theon nodded his head. "I would, that's why it's killing me, knowing I can't go to her now."
"You love her, a lot." She looked at him and saw him nod his head. She let out a soft laugh, "it's funny how things work out. I grew up wanting to be the girl that would fall in love with the dashing, young hero. I had fantasies of finding a love that would rival the stories that made up the songs. She never wanted any of that. She would have rather been the hero. It's hard to believe that the dreams I wanted, happened to her."
"I'm not really a hero, Sansa." Theon said quietly. "And I doubt there will be any songs sung about Arya and I, unless of course it's a tragedy." He said, adding a forced lightness to his tone, to try and show he was at least attempting to make a joke.
"Of course I know that the songs aren't real." She said. "But she loves you, and that's enough isn't it?"
"I guess," Theon admitted quietly.
I've come to realize that there are no heroes like those in the songs. I'd be happy just to find a strong a bond with someone, a bond as strong as the two of you have. I think that would be enough for me now." She said, and she almost sounded sad when the words were uttered from her mouth.
"You sound as if you don't think that will happen for you." Theon observed.
"I'm already married." She gave him a half smile, and he was surprised to realize it wasn't forced. "I don't love the man I was forced to marry. He wasn't the tall, handsome man I had always hoped for, but he was kind, and he was intent on protecting me. I think maybe I could have grown to love him if I had the chance." She could not bring herself to look at Theon as she made her confession. She knew he was probably staring at her, eyes wide in shock. Thankfully, he said nothing, and after a moment of silence, she went on. "Once I became a Lannister, Tyrion did what he could for me to keep me away from Joffrey and his cruelty. In a way I suppose he's protecting me now, being his wife makes it difficult for anyone to try to use me as a pawn. Although, I suppose that makes it worse for Arya, she becomes the more important Stark sister. If he had to, I'm sure Lord Baelish would have come up with some way to prove my marriage to Tyrion was invalid. When he figured out who the two of you were, Arya became just a more convenient choice for him. If you think about it, even if I hadn't managed to slip from his grasp, he might still have preferred to use Arya instead. She doesn't have a husband to get in the way."
Again there was a bit of quiet before either of them spoke. They both looked out over the river and in the general direction of Winterfell. "And now pretty soon Arya will have a husband too, only he won't be as kind as your's is." He said in a bitter, quiet voice.
"The plan will work Theon." She said this with a confidence she didn't know she had. "Arya will do what she has to do, and then she'll come back to you."
He raised an eyebrow at her, "I thought you didn't believe in happy endings anymore."
She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "Perhaps not completely happy endings. Half of our family is still gone. Even if we find Rickon at the Last Hearth, Bran is still missing, and Robb and my parents are still dead. There will always be some part of me, and I think maybe Arya too, that will always be sad. But when I saw the way she was with you, there was a spark of happiness there. She'll fight for that. So even if I don't believe in happy endings. I do believe in my sister."
—
Sansa's conversation with Theon seemed to have improved his mood, if only slightly. While he was still upset and worried about Arya, he realized that he wasn't the only one who felt that way. He made a choice after talking to Sansa, that pushing away those who had the same fears that he did was selfish. So he made an effort to become part of their small group again. They had work to do, Manderly had sent them North for a reason, and he had to trust that Podrick and Brienne could take care of Arya. There was no use dwelling on things he couldn't change. Sansa had been right, Arya could find her way through this, he had enough trust in her to know that she would find her way back to him.
So while he waited for her, he would do what he could to make sure what was left of her family would stay safe. He would find her younger brothers and he would make sure Stannis would be willing to help return the Starks to their rightful place in the North. With his new found resolve, the traveling seemed to go faster and before he knew it Sansa, Olyvar, himself, and the guards that Manderly sent with them, found their way to the Last Hearth.
They stood huddled together in the keep's court yard. The further North they had traveled, the colder the weather had gotten. They shivered as they waited outside. Theon's eyes drifted to the main building of the Last Hearth. It wasn't as impressive as Winterfell, Runestone, or the Twins, but it was solid and strong, much like the Umbers that dwelt their. It was then that he noticed the large doors had opened, and soon the Greatjon Umber himself stalked out of the building followed by a couple of his own guards.
Theon knew that Manderly had sent word ahead to the Umbers that Theon and his party would be coming, but it appeared that Jon Umber was being cautious. The large man came to a halt not too far from where Theon and the others stood, his stern glare moving from face to face scrutinizing each of them in turn. His guards stood there, hands on the hilt of their swords, ready to attack should their Lord command it. When Jon Umber's eyes rested on Theon, some of the tension that had been present in his eyes faded.
"I recognize you easily enough," Jon Umber said carefully, "from the last time I was at Winterfell, in the days before Robb Stark marched us South. You were practically the Young Wolf's shadow, I thought him a fool when he decided to leave you behind. I thought Theon Greyjoy would surely take his chance and run. It appears I was wrong. From what Manderly says, you managed to keep the youngest Stark girl alive. When the Boltons and Freys couldn't find any sign of you, we thought the both of you had been killed at the Twins, that your bodies had been lost in the chaos after that damned wedding." He stopped talking for a moment, his lips tugging downward in a frown. "Is it true, that the girl Bolton is marrying his bastard to is Arya Stark?"
Theon quietly said, "unfortunately, my Lord."
"And just how did that happen?" Umber asked harshly.
"It's a long story." Theon said, and when Lord Umber gave him a look that demanded more information he let out a small sigh. "We were out maneuvered by a man who is far more clever than I'll ever be."
Theon would have said more but Olyvar quickly came to his rescue. "Perhaps we could go into details once we're inside. It's awfully cold out here, and I have a feeling the Lady Sansa would like to see some of your other guests." Olyvar said pointedly.
Umber turned his attention to Olyvar and nodded his head to show that he understood. "I remember you, too, the young Frey boy who squired for Robb Stark. It seems you're more loyal to the Starks than your own family." Umber shrugged his shoulders in indifference. "Considering who your family is, I don't blame you. It seems you all have long stories to share. And you're right, it would probably be best to tell them in front of a warm fire." Finally he turned his attention to Sansa. "Lady Sansa, allow me to welcome you to the Last Hearth." He stepped forward and offered Sansa his arm, which she took graciously.
"Thank you, my Lord." Sansa said politely.
Jon Umber nodded to his guards and they visibly relaxed. He quickly snapped out some orders. "Take care of the Manderly men, make sure they're fed and made comfortable. I'll seek them out shortly. I know they have messages from Wyman, and I am eager to hear what they have to say. But first let me take our young guests to what they truly seek here at Last Hearth."
With that said the Lord Umber led them inside the great keep. He showed the three of them quickly to an empty sitting room that had a fire roaring in the hearth. There were several comfortable chairs and Umber motioned for them to make themselves comfortable. "You'll have to understand that I had to make sure my other guests were well hidden when you showed up. I had to be certain that you were who you said you were. Now that I know that you are, I feel more comfortable brining young Rickon Stark out from hiding. If you'll wait here for a few moments, I'll go and fetch him for you. I'm sure you're eager to see your little brother, Lady Sansa." It was the first time Lord Umber allowed a smile to touch his lips since they had arrived.
"Very eager, my Lord," Sansa said with a smile that matched their host's.
"I won't be gone long." With that said Umber turned and marched out of the room once more.
Theon found himself to be restless while they waited, and chose not to sit, instead he paced the room slowly, taking in the more rustic decor the Umbers obviously favored. Olyvar offered the chair that was closest to the fire to Sansa, then took a seat of his own. All of them quiet, lost in their own thoughts. They had been that way for several minutes when the door to the room burst open.
A young boy of about seven or eight raced through the threshold. Theon recognized him instantly as Rickon Stark. He had grown in the months since Theon had last seen him, but Rickon still had the auburn hair of the Tullys and the eyes that had mirrored his mother. From his bold entrance into the room, Theon could see that there was still a wildness to Rickon that reminded him of Arya. Theon couldn't help but smile at the boy, as his bright eyes searched the room for Sansa.
Once Rickon's eyes landed on his sister, he practically shouted, "Sansa!" The older Stark girl was already on her feet, her eyes shining with unshed tears of happiness. Rickon then bounded over to her and launched himself at her, wrapping his arms around her waist in a tight hug.
"Hello, Rickon." Sansa said with a small laugh as she returned the boy's enthusiastic hug. "It's so good to finally see you agin. I was so worried about you."
"I was worried about you too." Rickon said as he pulled away slightly so he could crane his neck up to look at his sister with a happy smile. Then he seemed to remember that there were other people in the room as well, he looked slightly abashed when he saw that Theon had been watching him. He quickly dropped his arms away from Sansa's waist. He straightened up, lifted his shoulders high, hoping that it made him look more grown up. Of course the fact that Sansa's arm remained draped across his shoulders ruined the effect. "It's good to see you again, too, Theon." He looked to Olyvar, then promptly ignored him, realizing that the other boy was a stranger. He cast his glance around the room as if he was looking for more people. He frowned when he brought his gaze back to Theon. "Where is Arya?"
Theon visibly paled when he heard the question. They must not have told Rickon that Arya had not accompanied them to the Last Hearth. In the way a child's mind could only work, he must have thought that since Theon had left Winterfell with Arya, the logical assumption would be that Arya had been with Theon the entire time she was gone. Rickon thought she should be there with him now. When Theon opened his mouth to answer Rickon, he had no idea how he would answer the boy.
Thankfully, it was at that moment that Rickon's wolf, Shaggydog padded inside the room, so he could take his place at his master's side. He was closely followed by two women one he recognized as being Osha, the woman who they had captured that day so long ago when Bran and Arya had been attacked by a small band of wildings. Finally Theon brought his attention to the other woman, who's eyes took him in with a cold glance. It was his sister. Instead of answering Rickon's question, Theon instead said, "Yara," by way of greeting.
"Little Brother," was Yara's curt answer.
Rickon, not realizing that there was a tension between Yara and Theon, attempted to ask his question again. "Theon, where's Arya?" He sounded a little impatient.
"Hush, little one." That had been Osha. She seemed to know that now was not the time for Rickon's questions. "There'll be time enough for us to find out what happened to her later. I'm sure Lord Umber will want to hear that story, too, but he had to go take care of some things. For now why don't you introduce me to your oldest sister. It's time now for Yara to say hello to her brother."
Theon was grateful for that. It bought him a little time before he had to tell Rickon why Arya couldn't be there. And it gave him a chance to deal with the unresolved feelings he had concerning his sister and the rest of his family. For a moment he watched as Rickon went about introducing Osha to Sansa and then Sansa went on to introduce both Osha and Rickon to Olyvar. Once it seemed like the four of them were settled down into an easy conversation, he turned back to Yara. She had distanced herself from the others, knowing that she and her brother needed to talk. Carefully he made his way to where she stood.
"I'm happy to see that you were able to escape Winterfell with the Stark boys." Theon said quietly.
"I hear I have you to thank for that." Yara commented.
Theon offered her a harsh glare. "Of course, do you think I would make arrangements for only Bran and Rickon? You are my sister, of course I wanted to make sure you were safe."
She shrugged her shoulders in an off handed gesture. "Last time I saw you, you seemed more Wolf than Kraken, so I was surprised that you even made the effort."
Theon frowned, at one time a comment like that might have hurt him and he might have felt the need to defend himself. The truth of the matter was that he was a Greyjoy. No matter what his sister thought, or even what his father might think, he had never denied that part of himself, even when he chose to stay at Arya's side when his father declared himself King of the Iron Islands. Nothing his sister could say would change who he was by birth, but the fact of the matter was, his time with the Starks had shaped him just as much as his blood did.
However all he said when he opened his mouth was, "beleive what you will, Yara, but even I can tell that you believe Father acted foolishly. Otherwise you would not still be here. You would have left for the Iron Islands the moment you escaped Winterfell."
Yara frowned, not wanting to admit that her brother was right, but he was. Balon should have never sent raiders to the Northern shores, he should have simply claimed the Iron Islands as his kingdom and continued to send his longships to raid further shores than those of Westeros. Her father had gotten too greedy, too quickly. She understood his folly now. They could have defended the Islands against foreign invaders, but they did not have the numbers to maintain control of any lands they might have stolen from the rest of Westeros. So of course she dreaded going back home, not only had she failed him, but she had abandoned his vision. She didn't want to have to tell him that he had been wrong.
She did not give voice to any of her thoughts. Instead she simply said, "I didn't go because those Stark boys needed all the help they could get."
Theon's eyes widened in surprise. "For all your accusations of me choosing the Starks over my own family, you do the same?"
Again she fixed him with her cold glare, then she shifted her gaze to where Rickon sat with the others. "Perhaps I have been a bit harsh with you on that account. I can see where you might have grown fond of at least some of the Starks. Both Rickon and Bran were very kind to me when I had been imprisoned at Winterfell, even when they didn't have any right to be. After you had left, before Ramsay came back to claim the keep, Bran had made the attempt to befriend me. Mostly because I was your sister, both of them seem to think very highly of you. It seemed like he wanted to repair any damage there was between you and your family. He helped me to understand some things about you, and about your time at Winterfell. I guess over those few days between you leaving and then that Bolton bastard taking Winterfell, I became fond of Bran, and Rickon too. There were only a handful of us that escaped, it was just myself, the Stark boys, Osha the Reeds, that simple, giant of a man," she had said meaning Hodor, "and that Bravosi Waterdancer,"
Theon looked surprised, he had not heard about what happened to Syrio Forell, he found that he was relieved that the man had escaped, Arya would have been happy too. But then he quickly brought his attention back Yara because she had not finished talking.
"While Osha, the Reeds, Forel, and those wolves that are always following them, are more than capable of protecting the two boys, I didn't feel comfortable leaving them. Especially when it was decided that the group should split into two" Yara said carefully.
Theon had been wanting to ask his next question from almost the moment he had seen Rickon burst into the room. He was happy the topic had finally been brought up. "Just where is Bran?"
He must have voiced the question louder than he had thought and the words must have carried over to Sansa's ears. Because she was quick to interject "I would like to know that too."
Theon craned his neck to look over at Sansa, and noticed that the others were also looking at his sister and him curiously. His sister must have concluded that their time for private conversation was over and took a few steps towards the larger group. Theon followed suit, he knew there was still some underlying tension and that there were still many things unspoken, but perhaps his sister and him and come to a temporary truce.
When Yara knew she had everyone's attention, she said, "we didn't tell Lord Umber, nor anyone else. We thought it best to keep his whereabouts a secret. I suppose you at least, have the right to know, Lady Sansa. Bran went further North."
"To the Wall?" Sansa asked curiously, there was a touch of a smile upon her lips. "To go to Jon? Perhaps we'll see him sooner rather than later. The Wall is not that far."
"Not to the Wall, m'lady." Osha said grimly, "further, beyond the Wall."
A tense hush fell upon the room.
After a few moments, Sansa simply asked what Theon and Olyvar had wanted to know. "Why?"
"He said it was his destiny." Osha said.
"What in the Seven Hells is that supposed to mean." Olyvar asked incredulously.
"He was seeing things, in those dreams of his." Osha said. "And that Reed boy kept on feeding his fantasies. He said that he was supposed to find something, or someone beyond the Wall. I tried to tell him there was nothing there to find except death, but he wouldn't listen. Him and the Reeds were determined to go."
"It's true," Yara said. "They would not listen to reason. Reluctantly, we had to let them go."
"You couldn't have stopped them?" Theon asked bitterly. He had this strange feeling that Bran Stark would be forever out of their reach. "Syrio agreed with this?"
"Forel said it was none of his business and stayed out of the discussion." Yara snapped.
"And where is he now?" Theon asked, he had a few questions for the Bravosi.
"Once we reached the Last Hearth, he made sure we would be safe here, then left, claiming he needed to make his way back to Bravos." Yara said. "I didn't see the need to stop him from doing so."
"Nor could you stop a cripple boy, two children, and a feeble minded man from going to their deaths." Theon commented in a mean tone.
"Stop it. The both of you." Osha hissed. "What's done is done. And we couldn't have stopped him. Even if I didn't want him to go, those dreams he has, they do mean something, m'lord. Perhaps it really is what he is meant to do."
"He does have something important to do North of the Wall, Theon. I don't know what, but I can feel it." Rickon piped in quietly.
Theon looked down at the youngest Stark, he could tell the boy was scared for his brother, but there was also a look of resolve within the young boy's eyes. He had accepted his brother's choice to willingly walk into danger, and Theon supposed he could do no less. He just hated to have to be the one to tell Arya about Bran when he saw her again. He looked to Sansa, and she saw that he looked just as worried and frightened for her brother. He let out a reluctant sigh, "the Reeds are with him. Meera can handle herself in a fight. Summer is also with him. He has a chance to survive whatever it is that he's doing." He said the words more to convince himself then anyone else.
After that, they remained quiet for a time, no one really knew what to say. It was an uncomfortable silence, that was only broken by the rustling of clothing as bodies shifted to find a more comfortable position. It was finally Rickon who broke the silence. "Now could you tell me what happened to Arya?"
It was also at that moment, that Lord Umber choose to make a reappearance. He must have heard Rickon's question as he stepped inside the room. "I would like to hear that story, too."
And so, Theon complied. He had started the tale from when he and Arya left Winterfell to go join her brother at the Twins and he told of what happened to them up until they had parted ways with Brienne and Podrick only a few short days ago, omitting only the most intimate details between him and Arya. Sansa and Olyvar added their own stories and soon enough the others had a pretty good idea of what had happened to them over the past few months.
"Well, that really is quite the story." Umber murmured when the whole of it had been told. "I know most of what Manderly has planned and I support it, make no mistake on that. Pretty soon I'm going to have to make my way to Winterfell under the guise of attending Lord Ramsay's wedding. I won't be able to drag my feet any longer. Bolton is anxious for all of Stark's former banner men to swear loyalty to him. If I hold out any longer he'll be suspicious. And I suppose you'll have to head to the Wall sooner, rather than later." He looked to Sansa. "My advice would be for you to stay at Last Hearth with Rickon while Lord Theon and Olyvar treat with Stannis. The Wall is no place for women and children."
"No." Sansa said with conviction. "I would go to the Wall. I need to see my brother, Jon is part of what little family I have left."
Theon interrupted before anyone else could say anything. He was surprised by Sansa's concern for Jon Snow. He had thought her indifferent to her father's bastard. She had certainly never called him brother before. "I wasn't aware you felt so strongly about him."
"Perhaps there was a time when I didn't." Sansa admitted. "But he is of Stark blood, and that makes him family. I know I was not always kind when it came to him, I would change that now. I have so little left, I know I should cherish what I do have. I want to see him."
Theon again noted at how much King's Landing seemed to have changed Sansa Stark. He said nothing, but he nodded his head to her to show that he understood.
Sansa looked to the others, and then continued talking. "Besides, Olyvar is from the Riverlands and Theon from the Iron Islands. Neither of them are of the North, you need a Northern voice to talk to Stannis. Rickon is too young, that leaves me." She paused a moment, "I can do that, with Olyvar and Theon's help."
For a moment, the rest of the room's occupants just stared at her stunned. Finally it was Umber who spoke. "Well, alright then. I guess that's settled. Sansa will go with you. I'll send along a couple of guards, that should see you safety there. There has been some wilding activity, but the Watch and Stannis seemed to have put that to rest. But I'd feel better knowing you had an escort to the Wall."
"I'd like to go with, too." Yara said quietly.
Again there was a moment of silence before Theon put forth, "any particular reason?"
"Perhaps I'm feeling a little protective of my younger brother," Yara answered in jest. "Or maybe I thought it time someone talk with Stannis about what his intentions are with the Ironborn."
Theon doubted Stannis had anything good planned for the Iron Islands if or when he claimed the rest of Westeros. Perhaps Yara going to meet with the man would not be a bad idea. Even if he was certain his father would not be pleased with it. Who knows, maybe Theon could even help with those talks. At least he could do something for his family in the long run. Again, Theon just nodded his head to show that he agreed with Yara's addition.
"Anything else then?" Umber looked around to all his guests, waiting to see if anyone else had any requests. When everyone remained quiet, he looked satisfied, "then I suppose we all have much to prepare for. I'll have some of my people escort you to your rooms. I'm sure the three of you will want to rest up."
—
The past couple of weeks at Winterfell had been, interesting to say the the least and Arya had reveled in it. What had started with Ramsay striking her, followed by an accident that had claimed one of Ramsay's friends life, had turned into a series of unfortunate mishaps to fall upon the Boltons and those very few families who were loyal to them.
That wasn't to say that her time in Winterfell was pleasant. Ever since their little meeting in the Godswood, Ramsay had become even more determined to spend time with her. She often had to endure his company when she walked the grounds, and the Godswood had no longer become a safe haven for her. He was far from pleasant company. He often found subtle ways to hurt her by bringing up her dead family members, or Sansa, or Theon. She tried not to show any emotion when he was particularly cruel, she had realized that was her mistake that day in the Godswood. He had enjoyed her reactions, thus making him want to provoke her more.
However one morning after a particularly restless night, he had fell into step with her and she was not prepared to deal with his cruelty. He seemed intent on talking about Robb that morning. He asked questions about the wedding. She never answered any of them, of course, and she did her best to ignore him as he chatted away happily. For all her silence, her discomfort must have been plainly written across her face because he was particularly gleeful and wasn't as careful as he usually was when he was tormenting her. When they had walked past several men, all of who she recognized as being Glover men, or men of those houses who were on friendly terms with the Glovers, Ramsay had made the mistake of making a particularly hurtful comment about the so-called King in the North. That, of course got the North men's attention, and then they saw the Lady Arya, pale, with her lips turned down into a frown, and her eyes watery from trying to keep from crying. She may have exaggerated her reactions to Ramsay for the North men's benefit (she had become good at hiding her emotions) just a little. She was rewarded that same afternoon for her little act. There had been an accidental fire in the rookery, several ravens had died before they were able to put the fire out.
There was another time when she had braved the Godswood again, Ramsay of course followed her. She didn't have to worry about putting on an act for sympathetic eyes. No one but Ramsay and her guards accompanied her to the weir tree. On that afternoon, he was intent on getting and keeping her attention. She did not comply easily. When she had tried to walk away from him, he grabbed her wrist and held it firmly in his grasp, so tight that it had left bruises. Her long sleeved dresses normally would have hid that evidence of Ramsay's violence. However, the Boltons and Arya had taken supper with Lord Glover that same night. As luck would have it, she had been seated next to him. Subtly she had pushed her sleeve up, every once in awhile, hoping the man would have caught the dark marks on her skin. The next morning it became apparent that Glover had seen them. Another one of Ramsay's friends had failed to report for his morning duties. The castle was searched, but not a trace was found of him. Glover had made the suggestion that the man had deserted the Boltons, but Arya knew better.
There weren't a lot of these incidents. But they happened often enough that Roose Bolton was suspicious that there was more to these accidents than met the eye. Fortunately for everyone except the Boltons, there was no way to prove it. Roose must have realized that the problems that plagued Winterfell had all started when Ramsay had started to pay more attention to Arya. Suddenly Ramsay had seemed to lose interest in Arya and the accidents stopped.
Then a couple of Walder Frey's sons arrived, along with the men-at-arms he had promised to Lord Botlon and a new tension had blanketed Winterfell. Most of the Northern lords that had gathered at Winterfell had lost someone at the Twins the night of the Red Wedding. There had been several days of a tentative peace between the Northerners and Southroners, but Arya had the feeling that the smallest spark would set something off.
She was proven right. Roose and Ramsay had been generous with the Frey men, and one night after having drunk a rather large portion of the Bolton's ale, they had gotten a bit loud as they told war stories. Most of which had been about their exploits at the Red Wedding and they only got louder when they realized that there were several Northerners near them who could hear their every word. Of course a fight had broken out. Roose Bolton had managed calm the situation before it got too out of hand.
However, the next morning, two Frey men had been found dead, apparently they had succumbed to the elements. They were vastly underdressed for the cold Northern nights. No one knew why they had been outside in such a state. The Northerners had laughed disdainfully and made comments at the stupidity of foolish Southroners. Everyone had suspected foul play and that some of the Northern men were responsible for their deaths, but again there was a lack of evidence.
On the morning of this latest incident Arya had found herself in the court yard watching the chaos that the newest deaths had brought to Winterfell. She watched the scene quietly, her guards a respectful distance from where she stood. She had to force herself not to smile as several men started to cart the dead away. She had seen Lord Bolton's expression when he had saw the dead men. He was worried that he was starting to lose control and she was enjoying that immensely.
Once things started to settle into a tense calm, she knew she should make herself disappear for awhile. Ramsay would no doubt be looking to cheer himself up after such an eventful start to the day. That meant he would be looking to torment her and she did not want the man to ruin her morning. Without drawing too much attention, she slipped away from the main court yard and started for the place that had become her new safe haven since the Godswood was no longer a choice.
Strangely enough that place had been Winterfell's crypts. She had of course known the crypts were there, she had played in them as a child with her brothers, but it never occurred to her to use it as a place to hide from Ramsay Bolton. It wasn't until the man had started to pay closer attention to her that she realized it was a prefect place to get away from him. The first time she had ventured down the cold, dark stairs she carried a lantern to help guide her way, and her guards followed her wearily. She could tell that they were uncomfortable, especially when the statues of long dead Starks seemed to stare down at them with stone eyes that seemed to judge them harshly. They didn't stay down there long. They inspected the crypts as quickly was possible, and when they realized there were no hidden tunnels that she could use to escape Winterfell, they thought it would be safe to leave her there alone while they watched the door to the only entrance of the crypts. Of course they had to check her for weapons every time she emerged from the stairs, just in case she got it into her head to steal any of the real blades the stone statues carried. They didn't have to worry, Arya would have never stolen a sword that had belonged to her ancestors. It would have felt like a violation and Winterfell had been violated enough.
Arya was able to slip into the crypts easily enough with only her guards taking notice as to where she had gone. She picked up the lantern that she had stored off to the side on the top step. She had never bothered to light the lanterns that had hung on the walls of the the crypt. She preferred the one she carried, had the crypts been brighter she feared that other people might find their way down there to bother her. Before she started down the stairs she turned to the guards and said coldly, "I won't be long." Then left them behind in the safety of the daylight and the living.
She took the familiar path down the stairs, and walked past the Starks who had lived long ago, who had once been kings before Aegon the Conquerer came and Torrhen Stark bent the knee, she had walked past the Stark lords that came after, until finally she had reached the statues that she had been told was her grandfather, Rickard Stark, her Uncle Brandon, and the lone woman who's bones lie in the crypt, her Aunt Lyanna. She stopped walking, and looked at the empty space next to them. The place where her father should have been put to rest, and Robb too. It saddened her to know that her father and brother might never return to Winterfell. She supposed their bones would be forever lost.
She didn't know how long she had sat there, mourning her brother and father, when a cheery voice interrupted her. "Such a dreary place." She turned to look at the person who had disturbed her and frowned. Of course it would be Ramsay Bolton. He held up a lantern of his own, and gave the Stark girl an easy smile before he set the lantern down at his feet.
"Must you follow me down here as well," her voice sounded resigned and tired.
"Not to worry, my love, I'll not bother you here often. Lord Baelish told me a few days ago that this is where you go when you want to avoid me. I realize you must have some time to yourself. I won't interfere when you come here to pay your respects to the dead." He said as he turned to look at the statue that had resembled Lyanna Stark, he seemed contemplative as he took in her stone figure.
Arya held tightly onto her own lantern, her hand squeezing the handle in frustration. She should have known Lord Baelish would know where her hiding place was. He probably watched her as closely as the guards that Lord Bolton had on her. Or who knows, maybe he paid some of those guards to tell him what she got up to. She remained silent as she glared at him.
"I suppose it is hard to carve a true likeness into stone, I heard your aunt was supposed to be quite beautiful. She must have been if we're to believe the stories of Rhaegar Targaryen stealing away with her." He gave a confused sigh, "looking at this particular statue, I don't really see what all the fuss was about." He turned back to look at Arya.
For her part, Arya soundly ignored his deprecating comments about her Aunt. "Did you want something, or are you here simply to bother me, after you just told me you wouldn't interfere with my time here."
"Oh yes," he said with a little chuckle. "I almost forgot, I was so caught up in your family history that there was a reason I came down here. I'm here to tell you that Lord Manderly will be arriving today, my father would like you to be in attendance to greet him. He's one of the last of the Northern lords to arrive at Winterfell. Now we just have to wait on Jon Umber to make his way here. Once he has come, our wedding will finally be able to take place."
"Then I pray Lord Umber takes his time," Arya muttered lowly, under her breath so Ramsay could not hear her.
"What was that, my love?" The amused smile played easily on his lips, as his eyebrows raised in curiosity at her. "Aren't you excited." When he saw her icy glare, he let out a low chuckle. "Don't tell me you're nervous." He took a step toward her, and unconsciously she took a step back. That seemed to amuse him further. "Tell me my sweet Little Wolf, is it the wedding night that you are worried about?"
She had to stop herself from reacting to Little Wolf. Perhaps if she ignored him when he used it, he would tire of trying to get a reaction out of her. And she definitely wouldn't dignify his question with an answer. She watched as he took another step closer, she forced herself to remain in still. When he took another step, one that put him directly in front of her, she lifted her chin up proudly, as if to show him she wasn't frightened of him.
He offered her another smile, "I'm certain most young, noble born brides find themselves scared of what's to happen on their wedding nights. If their new husband is not gentle, the first time can be very painful for the girl." He lifted his hand and let his index finger trace along her jaw. If it had been anyone else the gesture might have seemed tender. "Not to worry, my love, there will be some discomfort at first, but I promise you I'll be gentle with you." His tone however, betrayed that he would be anything but gentle.
For a moment all she could do was look at him in disbelief. Finally she couldn't help but let out the laugh that had been bubbling up inside her throat. She raised the hand that hadn't been holding the lantern to push his hand away from her. She was amused by his scare tactics, but she still couldn't stand his touch. She laughed even harder when she saw the confusion that had passed over Ramsay's face.
"What is it that you find so funny, my lady?" he asked.
Once she had her laugh under control, she looked at him, amusement still showed in her eyes and a smile was still curved on her lips. "I can't decide which amuses me more. The fact that you think my virtue is still in tact, or that you think you will have the opportunity to touch me." She couldn't help but let out another soft laugh after she had said the words.
The confusion had left his expression and was replaced with the rage. Before she realized what was happening, the hand that had first touched her reached up to grab her neck. His fingers curved around the back and his thumb rested on the front of her throat. He held on to her firmly, it wasn't enough to impair her breathing, but it was still uncomfortable having his hand there. His other hand he placed on her hip, this time the grip was tight and she knew there would be marks there. He looked down at her, his pale eyes flashing dangerously. He pulled her closer to him, and finally some fear managed to come to her. The lantern she had held, sputtered out as it fell from her fingers and clattered to the ground. She raised her hands in an attempt to push herself away from him, but he held her tightly.
"I will have plenty of opportunities to touch you, my love. Remember that these Northern lords won't be here forever. Once they leave there will be no one here to protect you. That is when the true fun will begin." He seemed to be able to calm himself slightly, and he tilted his head as his eyes studied her and the fear he saw in her expression. She had stopped struggling, she must have realized that he was in charge at the moment. The pad of his thumb stroked her throat, as if he wanted to remind her how easy it would be to crush her windpipe. Then with a sick smile he said, "it disappoints me that I won't be the first to bed you. Let me guess, it was that Greyjoy boy who had that honor. That does anger me a little, I'll have to see about acquiring him from Littlefinger. I'm sure I'll find a creative way in which to punish him. I do not like it when people touch my things. Remember, Arya, you are my Little Wolf now."
Then without warning, he let her go. She could feel herself shaking when he did so. He had frightened her more here than he did in the Godswood. He said nothing as he turned from her and she said nothing to him. He picked up the lantern that he had brought and then turned back to her. The smile that he wore so often when he thought he was being friendly was back in place. "Shall we go my love. We've lingered down here too long. My father will be looking for us." He offered her his arm.
Arya could still not find her voice, but she was able to slip her proud mask back into place. Woodenly she raised her hand to take his arm and he started to lead them out of the crypts.
—
Author's Note: I was going to have going to have Arya meet Lord Manderly in this chapter, but it got kind of long. So that will happen next time. Also, Stannis will finally enter the picture. I know some of you have been waiting for that.
To Tommyginger: Someone needed to tell Brienne that she needed to focus on the living. I love the woman but sometimes she's just too focused on avenging Renly I'm glad you agree. :)
To Narutoske: Oh, Ramsay does like Arya's wild side. I would think he would find it fun to try to break her of it. Arya in the books is very lucky not to be used as a political pawn when it comes to betrothal. I often wonder about what would have happened should Arya have been in Jeyne's position. Because I could see her constantly fighting back, or I could have seen her biding her time waiting to attack Ramsay when he didn't expect it. I don't think she would have been the doormat that Jeyne was.
To Lord of Carrion: Don't worry, this Stannis will not be show Stannis. As for the rest, I shall not say what happens, but I do know how everything is going to play out.
To jean d'arc: Haha, I think we both share the same views on what happened in season 5, I understand the rant. The show runners missed out on some of the more interesting plots, especially with what was going on in the North. I'm glad you liked the last chapter. Sorry if I got your hopes up in thinking that Nymeria would come and finish Ramsey off.
To ATP: As much as I find what GRRM did in the books concerning the wildings more realistic, and better thought out, I'm going to go with the show numbers on this with this one. Mainly because I need Jon to have witnessed what happened at Hardhome to further along certain character's story lines. (Thank you for the compliment by the way.)
