THERE IS NO RAPE IN THIS STORY
[that is not a spoiler but a promise]
Sansa stares in astonishment at Theon in the flickering torchlight and wonders if he has gone mad to risk attacking Winterfell, and to think that he could simply abduct her. King Robb, her lord husband and all of House Umber, and possibly all of the North will demand his head. She thinks his sister Queen Asha cannot have countenanced such a rash act. She also wonders when and how Theon came to hate her so very much.
"I will not go anywhere with you, Theon," she tells him levelly.
"You will, Sansa; and your children. Get your nurse and get them ready," he stalks towards her and takes her arm. "Go on."
"You are not taking me and you are certainly not taking my children," she repeats stubbornly. "You will never get out the gates, Theon."
"My men are seeing to the gates, and to the green boys and old men your king left behind to protect you. Do you think I don't know everyone who could protect you is gone? There's not a decent, well-manned garrison between here and the Stony Shore. We'll sail to Pyke from there," he says moving to push her out the nursery door.
"Theon, let go of me," she orders. "My lord will kill you for laying hands on me."
"The Greatjon's north of the Wall with the rest of your Northmen, Sansa; and even if he does return you'll be long gone from here…and you'll be mine. He won't want you back; and he won't come after me when I have his children," he tells her smugly. "Mayhaps I'll send them back to him when you've given me a son."
"A bastard," Sansa counters firmly. "I am already wed."
"Now you'll be a salt wife…until your brother decrees we be wed properly. I know your family will do anything to salvage your reputation and theirs."
"Nothing can make what you are doing right, Theon; I'll never go with you," she hisses and twists to pull away from him. She knows that the captain of the guardsmen Hallis Mollen and the castellan Ser Rodrik must be fighting somewhere in the castle; and the men who work in the armory and the forge or even the kennels will stop him if he tries to leave with her and so she stalls him so that the others may hide and the soldiers and servants have time to find her and Theon. But his next words show that he is not to be so easily flouted.
"You will come with me willingly or I'll give Umber's boy to the Drowned God, Sansa," Theon threatens.
"Have you found your lady then, m'lord?"
"I have," Theon tells a man who steps out of the shadows in the hallway now. "We'll needs gather her children and go quickly; you and the others can do what you want with the castle when I'm gone," he says.
Sansa sees the man is in the garb of a commons though he has a fine sword; but it is his face that is most disturbing. His skin is pale and blotchy, and he has eyes that are pale and cold and small. But it is his mouth that frightens her most: it is small but fleshy and wormy, and it reminds her of Joffrey. He has dark hair though, and a sloped posture and soft body beneath his dirty and tattered clothes. Everything about him makes Sansa want to shiver with disgust.
Theon grips her arm tighter now. "Not all Northmen love your king, Sansa. It wasn't so hard to find men who would turn against him. All I want from this place is you; the others can have the castle."
"Why take her babes then, m'lord? They'll only slow you down," the man asks Theon. "Put them on spikes for her king and her lord husband to see," he grins malevolently at Sansa, who gasps and looks to Theon.
Theon looks her over assuredly. "I'll needs to keep this wolf in line. She'll do as I say if I have her brats. And Umber won't follow either if he thinks I'll hurt them," he brags. "The old man'll never dare set foot on Pyke." He steps closer to Sansa and leers as he looks down the body. "Robb was supposed to give you to me," he tells her angrily. "Instead he gave you to the Greatjon. You should have had better than an old man, Sansa…and now you will." He turns his head to the ugly man. "You can have her sister…if you want her," he says dismissively, "or their mother, or the queen."
"And why should I settle for what you won't have?" the man sneers dangerously now. "I've decided I like your wolf-woman. She's not going to Pyke with you; she's coming hunting with me."
Without warning, the man lunges at Theon with his sword, running him through to the hilt and twisting the blade. Sansa screams and her hands fly to her face when Theon lets go of her. His eyes are wide with shock and his breath catches and releases slowly as he sinks to his knees and falls over with a soft thud. As Sansa stares down at him, blood seeps out of his wound and spreads over the wooden floor.
"You…bastard," Theon breathes his last at her feet as she shakes from shock.
The ugly man thrusts his blade savagely into Theon again with a hard grunt and pulls it back. He turns to Sansa with a hungry smile.
"Never call me that," he commands her, "or I will give you to my men and watch as you scream," he advances on her now as she shrinks back to the wall, "then I'll slowly peel your skin off, inch by inch, and feed you to my dogs."
"Who- who are you?"
"Your new lord!" he tells her with a hard glint in his pale eyes. He looks down to Theon in mock surprise. "Why? Oh, did you want him?" He laughs. "Well, it's too late now," he considers and shakes his head. "Just-missed Greyjoy, they called him. He only wanted to fuck you; and he just missed his chance, didn't he?" He kicks Theon's body hard and Sansa jumps.
"Oh! Don't be scared, my lady…not yet. You see, when I said we were going hunting," he leans in closer to her, "I meant that I am going to hunt…and you are going to be hunted. You may even get away; some have, but I don't think I'd give up on you so easily. I've never hunted a wolf before…a hope you're good sport."
He flinches violently all of a sudden and his strange eyes go wide, and he looks down and both he and Sansa see the glint of steel sticking out his knee. When it pulls back he nearly buckles and he turns with his blade raised. Sansa sees a flash of auburn hair behind him in the torchlight and she instinctively grabs the man's sword arm with both her hands.
"No!" she cries, but the ugly man doubles over suddenly with a shrill screams and drops his sword to the floor where it clatters against the wood boards. Sansa brings her foot down on it, hard; and she sees young Eddard before the ugly man who has sunk to his knees. He holds his hands to his groin and there is dark blood pooling beneath him. In her son's hands is a large dagger, red to the hilt. He glares hard at the ugly man and his little face is fierce and angry.
"Eddard!" she breathes in astonishment.
"He- he's just a boy," the ugly man seems to laugh weakly.
"I'm an Umber!" her son shouts as he takes a step and thrusts the dagger with both hands up into the man's neck with a high-pitched grunt. He holds firmly for a long moment before pulling back; there is a gurgle and a soft hiss of air and blood spurts onto the boy's face and hands.
Sansa stifles a shriek and steps forward to grab her son and pull him out of the way as the ugly man half-turns and tilts over to fall to the floor and die. His strange eyes stare emptily up at the ceiling.
"Eddard, Eddard," she whispers fervently, "are you hurt? Let me look at you."
His little face and eyes are hard as she looks at him but the all at once he trembles and is a boy again. His big eyes look up at hers pleadingly and trustingly.
"Did he hurt you, Mother? I heard you scream and so I came to help you. I promised Father I would," he tells her.
Sansa looks wide-eyed at the bloodied dagger in his hands and remember suddenly: his gift; it was a secret between them.
Before she can speak again, she hears light, quick steps scuffing against the floor and turns.
"Arya," she breathes in relief. Her sister is holding her sword Needle and Sansa can see that both she and the blade are bloodied. She stops before the bodies on the floor.
"Theon," she pronounces angrily as she recognizes him, "and who's the other?"
Sansa shakes her head, "I don't know. I-"
Arya sees Eddard now and her eyes widen slightly. "Did you kill them, Eddard?"
"There's not time for that, Arya," Sansa tells her urgently. "Bring me a sword," she nods towards the ones on the floor as she braces herself with a hand on the wall and stands shakily.
When Arya just stares at her, Sansa explains: "We needs take their heads."
….
They hurry through the Keep breathing hard, each with their grisly burden in one hand and a sword in the other. Their footsteps creak along the deserted hallways and the heavy sword Sansa carries keeps clanking and throwing sparks when she scratches the tip along the stone wall as she tries to run in her heavy fur robe, now with the hem soaked from the pools of blood. When they reach the bridge to the armory, Arya moves quickly and tosses the head of the ugly man into the yard below where there are still men fighting. Some of them see it and stop and turn to look around and behind them. Arya then holds aloft a torch she has snatched from the wall.
"Here is your leader!" she shouts, and Sansa holds out Theon Greyjoy's head by the hair and his sword in her other hand. "They were killed by women! Throw down your weapons and we'll show mercy; fight on and you'll die by the she-wolves of Winterfell!"
All of the men look up to them now, and one drops his weapon; another is run through by the guardsman Alebelly when he takes too long to decide. Below them, Bran's direwolf Summer runs out of the Keep and into the yard followed by Ser Rodrik and another soldier with their swords drawn. When Ser Rodrik looks up to the bridge, they see his face is as bloodied as his sword. The last of the men attacking Winterfell drop their weapons when they see the tremendous direwolf with its muzzle dripping fresh blood.
"Put them in irons," Arya calls, "and take them to cells."
Ser Rodrik looks up to them now with wide eyes but then nods respectfully.
"It will be done, my lady…my ladies," Hallis Mollen calls to them.
Arya continues to stand overlooking the yard with a fierce expression but Sansa can feel herself begin to shake again.
"Can I put it down now, Arya?" she whispers, "I feel that I may be sick." The stench of blood had first reminded her of Sandor Clegane on the night Kings Landing fell, and she had taken strength from that; but now the sickly-sweet stink was too much, and she feared that she might vomit.
"Drop it then," Arya replies distractedly, "but don't let them see you look weak."
"But they're being led away now. Arya, I needs find Serena and her nurse…and Mother-"
"They're safe and well hidden, Sansa," Arya tells her without turning to her. "Robb had fashioned a hiding place for Bran since he cannot run or fight, even with Summer at his side. Roslin and the girls and Serena are there as well with their nurses. I made sure once you left Bran's room."
"Mother?" Sansa asks her.
Arya looks at her now. "…has a dagger of her own: Ser Rodrik taught her to use it."
Sansa is speechless, and the only sounds now come from the men in the yard and the burning of Arya's torch.
"Mother? Is it safe now?"
Sansa turns to the dark archway of the bridge leading to the Keep where young Eddard stands, still holding his dagger.
"Yes, Eddard, I think so; but stay with me and Aunt Arya until we are certain. Ser Rodrik and the guardsmen's captain will have the soldiers come to tell us." She looks carefully at him now as he walks towards her and takes his face in her bloodied hands. "Are you certain that you are not hurt? I cannot tell with all the blood," she worries.
"You're all bloody too," he tells her dully, and she looks down the front of her robe and sees that he is right. Suddenly she is very cold and she pulls her son to her to hold him. My sweet boy killed a man.
"You did well, Eddard," Arya tells him firmly.
"Yes, Eddard: your father will be so proud," Sansa tells him, though almost tearfully, "as I am; but I am concerned as well. We must keep what you did a secret for now."
"Why?" Arya asks.
"We don't know who these men are but for Theon; I don't want anyone taking their vengeance on my son," Sansa tells her cautiously, and she looks the boy in his eyes again. "Eddard, we will tell your father when we see him; but not before. Do you understand?"
Eddard looks disappointed but he nods to her. "Yes, Mother."
"You were so very brave, my boy," she tells him shakily. "I never saw or heard you until that man turned," Sansa tells him and Arya.
"Swift as a deer. Quiet as a shadow," Arya recites at him proudly.
Eddard looks to her and then to Theon's head which lays near Sansa's feet and then back to his aunt.
"Valar Morghulis," he recites back to her.