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No one
The sky above Dragonstone is clouded with the promise of a storm. Theon would be more pleased with a sunny day but the autumn does not show mercy.
Just like… No, it is too early to think of that. Or too late.
Shireen stands beside him on the wall and they watch the surging sea together. At least, Theon watches the sea. Shireen, obviously, watches him.
"I don't want you to die."
"I don't want that either, little lady, believe me." Theon looks at her and gives the girl a faint smile. "Unfortunately, it's not your decision or mine but our fathers'. And my father has already made his choice."
Stubbornly, Shireen shakes her head.
"It's not your fault that he rebelled against the crown. He should be punished for it, not you."
"He will be punished. With my death."
"But he does not care."
"Apparently not."
And that hurts. Even after all these years. He never loved his father – not the way Daven loved Davos – and, no doubt, his father did not love him either. But they share the same flesh and blood. It should matter, should it not?
Theon sighs. If it has to happen… well, he tries to be calm and brave. For Shireen. For himself.
"Beheading is not a bad way to die anyway," he notes. "It's quick. Clean."
"But it's still dying."
He cannot say anything to that.
He would like to stay with Shireen for a while longer – forever –, but Ser Axell comes for him. He seems angry that he had to look for Theon.
"Greyjoy. To the King."
Clearly, Theon does not obey quickly enough, because Ser Axell turns back and snaps at him.
"Move."
Years ago in Winterfell Lord Stark found him to be at the proper age to accompany him when he did justice. Theon saw men who accepted their deaths with a sort of quiet decorum, and saw others who were begging and cursing and struggling.
He knows whose example he wants to follow and he hopes he will be able to say farewell that way.
When he enters the King's solar, Stannis waves him to sit.
Theon tries to draw himself up as much as possible. But it only helps a little, because his face is pale as the sheet on his bed.
"After the Greyjoy Rebellion, my brother, the king sentenced you to die if your family took up arms against the crown again. And he made the execution my duty, and I was ready to comply…" Stannis takes a break, short as a heartbeat. "But I'm the king now."
Theon jerks up his head.
"And I believe taking your head would serve only your father. So allowing you to keep it will serve me." His voice becomes solemn, almost theatrical, but that is not unusual for him nowadays. "Prove that I'm right, prove that you are worth more alive to me, and when I gain the throne, I will reward you with your ancestors' lands."
Theon is unable to think, so he says what comes to his mind first. He says what the reality is.
"My life has been yours for years, my king, and it will always be. I couldn't expect anything in return. I won't either."
Stannis' expression does not change but he seems content with Theon's answer.
"Very well. For now, return to your tasks."
Feeling dizzy, Theon stands up, and with unsteady steps he leaves the solar while the whole world is swirling around him.