Hi! How did everyone like the season premiere? :D I know I loved it!

Sorry I wasn't able to get this out before I left, like I had promised. I still hope you guys like it!

I hope everyone had a happy Easter and happy Passover.

Enjoy! xoxo

Gisella

She could hear the clop clopping of horse hooves as they approached the inn. The air was damp and humid, smelling of rain, although she was not sure if it had already rained or if it would happen soon. He turned her towards the stables and they stepped off the narrow road. The mud and grass felt refreshing against her hooves and the slight breeze was welcome.

Once they reached the stables, he put her in an empty stall, tying the reins to a hook on the wall. He left the bow and arrow quiver across her back, as well as his trunk with what she assumed was his spare clothes. He told her to stay put, but how she was supposed to leave in the first place if she was tied up?

She looked around, trying to find a clue as to where he had brought her. There were only a couple others horses in the stables, and there were no carts or wagons outside the inn. She supposed it was a good thing that they were in a quiet and near-empty place. She didn't want them to run into trouble.

The odor of horse shit was strong and putrid, although it wasn't as bad when she was in a horse's body (thankfully she was, otherwise, she was certain that she would throw up on the spot). The scent of hay in the trough made her stomach rumble, but she would have plenty of time to eat later (and preferably in her own body, with some food she was actually fond of). She had to find out where she was before she did anything else.

The inn seemed familiar to her; she felt like she should know what it was. Next to the river, there was a tiny dock, but none of the rowboats and rafts had any sigils on their flags. Even the horses did not have sigils on their saddles. Either this inn was full of outlaws, lowborns and sellswords, or none of them wanted to be noticed, just like Theon. She figured it was the latter; when you bear a sigil, you can never be sure as to where you'll be safe.

The sun was beginning to set. She didn't have much time until it would be too dark to look for clues. She pulled against the reins, trying to take a few steps forward to get a better view of the inn. She managed to poke her head through the window on the stall door and her eyes scanned the area. She caught sight of the inn's sign, triumph swelling up inside of her.

She'd seen the sign in books before, and she knew the story that went along with it well. According to legend, this was the spot where Torrhen Stark, the last King in the North- besides Robb, of course-, knelt to Aegon the Conqueror. That was three hundred years ago, something that changed history, and all it got was this lousy, crumbling building. The Inn of the Kneeling Man.

Gisella got to the Inn of the Kneeling Man in the bright early hours of the morn. She was only a couple of hours behind Theon, and she assumed he would still be sleeping. She slung her arrow quiver over her back, her bow hanging off of her shoulder. She swung down from her horse, her palms sweating underneath the leather gloves. This is it.

She pushed the door to the inn open, the wood creaking loudly. The common room was empty and she let out a small sigh of relief. Even the innkeeper was not there, making her job that much easier. Up the stairs, and there I'll find my kraken…hopefully.

The longsword on her hip knocked against her knees every time she climbed a stair. She kept a hand on the hilt of the sword, her eyes darting warily about. She expected someone to pop out of the walls, or slide down the staircase and run her right through. On the next step, she lost her balance, grabbing the rail at the last second to hold herself up. Gisella was certain that her foot would fall through the rotten wood; each stair was more unstable and rickety than the last. Wouldn't that be something…death by stairs.

Upstairs, she was faced with several doors, each leading to a guest room. She heard no noise whatsoever from any of the rooms, which only made her doubts grow. What if he had left already? What if he had never stayed for the night, and only came in for a cup of ale? Too slimy, these damn krakens are…they slip right through your fingers.

A door not two feet away from her swung open, and in the blink of an eye, Gisella had strung an arrow and was pointing it at the person's neck. The hood over her brow obscured her vision a tad, but from the way he took a sharp intake of breath, she knew her aim was right on target. "You're coming with me, or I swear, this arrow is going right through your fucking neck."

Theon's lips twisted into a snarl. "You're bluffing." His hand groped around for his sword, but through the open door, she could see that it was leaning against the bed.

"Am I?" Gisella shook her head, the hood falling off. Fear instantly returned to his face upon seeing who she was; he knew she would never lie about something like this. "I'm a good shot, both you and I know this." She pulled the bowstring further back, her fingers turning white from gripping it so tightly.

"How'd you find me?" he demanded, glaring daggers at her. "Last I saw you, you were knocked out-"

"I warged into your horse," she answered simply, shrugging. "Not that hard to do. And you managed to come to one of the most famous inns in all of Westeros- nice job on that." She pursed her lips into a thin line. "Now, are you going to come with me, or am I going to have to put this through your throat?"

"Dumb bitch," he spat, his hands clenching in anger. Even from a few feet away, she could smell the ale on him; poor boy. So nonsensical when he's in his cups.

"Fine, then." Gisella shifted her aim a couple inches off and shot the arrow. It whizzed by Theon's ear, planting itself in the doorframe next to him.

His signature smirk played on his lips. "You missed."

She raised her eyebrows minimally, silently challenging him. "Have I? I've still managed to make you piss yourself." He believed the lie and took the bait, looking down at his crotch. She took the opportunity to swing her bow forward, hitting his shoulder and knocking the wind out of him. She kneed him in the groin and shoved his chest, bringing him to the ground. The redhead kicked his shoulders and sent him reeling back. He landed on his back with a thud and gasped when she held the bowstring against his neck. "Still think I'm bluffing, Greyjoy?" she gritted out, sitting on his chest.

He replied by spitting in her face.

She removed the bow and slapped him across the face. "You're coming back to King Robb's camp with me, and that is final. If you want to leave with your life, that is."

He ground his teeth together. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Robb sent me to go to Pyke, you know-"

"Look at you, a little puppy dog. The wolf's pup." She wiped the spit off her face. "Going back to the Iron Islands will only raise hell. Trust me." Her anger dissipated, and now she merely felt exhausted. She wanted Theon to believe her and follow her back to the Stark camp. "You trust me, don't you?" she whispered after he didn't respond for a few moments.

"Clearly, you don't trust me. Why else would you have followed me here?" He pushed Gisella off of him and pushed himself up off the floor. He brushed the dust off his nightclothes, his garments and hair disheveled. "Just tell me what's so damn important and maybe, just maybe,I'll go with you."

She sighed and stood up, facing him. "I had a dream." She swallowed thickly, her heart beating quickly under her breast. "One of those green dreams I told you about. The ones that come true."

He snorted and rolled his eyes, reaching for his tunic and breeches. "Right, and I'm Queen of Westeros."

"Shut up and listen, you git!" she ordered, smacking his shoulder. "You can't go back to the Iron Islands because your father will turn you against the Starks. Your father would plan a rebellion and he would have you attack Winterfell. If you're half the man I think you are, you would believe me and you wouldn't go back. Your place is by Robb's side. That's the best you can do, and don't take that the wrong way. We can get ships another way. Just trust me." The words came out hurriedly and she didn't breathe until she was done telling the tale.

He studied her for what seemed like an eternity. She could practically see the gears turning inside his head, the inner turmoil and conflict inside him. "You better not be fucking lying," he said finally, his hand gripping the bedpost.

"I'm not, I swear to any and every god there is."

Theon frowned a little and gave the tiniest of nods. "Fine. Alright. I believe you." He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Let me gather my things. We'll leave within the hour."

I sure hope you guys don't think that it's going to be clear skies from here on out. I'm leaning toward a Jaime-and-Brienne-esque adventure for these guys. You'll see what's in store ;)

Thanks for everyone who reads/faves/subscribes aaaaand reviews! Don't be afraid to show a little love, by the way...or constructive criticism! That would be nice too.

Until next time!

-Cas