Chapter 18

Tanith

The clouds loomed over the camp ominously, creating a swirl of dark grey and black. Tanith missed the feeling of the sun on her skin, but it was not worth being in King's Landing for.

She had not spoken to Theon since their kiss a few nights before, as their respective duties had taken precedence during the ongoing journey to Seagard. While he spent his nights planning with Robb and hunting in the woods, she remained at the medical tent and kitchen. She did not mind: she liked having a purpose, even if that was just to look after medical supplies, equipment, change dressings, help serve meals and clean dishes. She had gotten over her fear of blood, managing to clean and dress now-healing wounds on the Stark soldiers without a grimace. A few weeks ago, she would have fainted at the mere sight of a deep cut.

"How long have I been with you?" she asked Talisa as they tended to some cuts on one of the Stark soldiers. They had been tending to him for some time now. His wounds were taking a while to heal, the haggard scars creating zigzags down his left leg. He would recover though, Talisa had said.

"Not long enough." The soldier interrupted. His name was Maddox. He was a few years older than Tanith, but looked much younger with his freckled cheeks, cheeky grin and spiralling red curls of hair.

"Oh stop flirting, you've to take it easy," Talisa warned him playfully. "I would say about two months, my lady, although I must agree with our friend here that it has not felt as long."

True enough, it did not feel as long. Tanith was in the Red Keep for less time, yet that felt like an entire saga of her life. Although whenever she thought of it, she shivered as if she were recalling a past life. Locking those memories away in a box in her mind made her feel better and that she was settled here, with the Stark army, with Talisa, with…

"I hope it will continue," Maddox winked at Tanith, hauling her out of her thoughts. "I wouldn't enjoy myself as much without you here."

Tanith blushed. Maddox let out a hearty laugh. She admired his energy despite the state of his leg. "I always make you do that."

"What?"

"You've gone red, milady," he smirked. "Almost as red as m'hair!"

"You flatter me more than I deserve," she said shyly, returning her focus to his dressing. "Now I hope you are resting this leg like you are supposed to."

"Rest is for the old, I feel fine!" he jeered in his unmistakable Northern accent. When he saw Tanith's expression, he held his hands up in surrender. "Only joking, milady, I know I've to rest it good."

"See that you do," Tanith playfully swatted his arm with a spare bandage. "I hear you are quite the swordsman. King Robb needs you back on your feet."

"No problem," Maddox grinned, and hauled himself to his feet to the surprise of both the ladies. "See, I'm fi-woah, wooah!" Tanith let out a squeal, louder than she intended to, as Maddox pretended to lose his balance and fall into her. She grabbed his arms and they fell into a hug, and she laughed as he quickly returned to his seat.
It was good to laugh at something. It was good to be in the company of people who made her feel at ease. She felt silly thinking it, as she was providing medical aid to a soldier in an army camp, but she sometimes forgot there was a war on.

"I think I shall retire now," Talisa announced, packing away the rest of the supplies. "I suggest you two do the same, you must be exhausted after all this carry on! Goodnight."

Tanith, still laughing, bid her friend goodnight, and let out a small yawn. "It is late, I think Talisa is right."

"Pardon me, milady," Maddox said firmly. It was the first time Tanith had seen him with a straight face. "I know it's not my place, and a fine lady like you could do much better, but I were wonderin' if there were anyone special in your life."

"Is that a question?" Tanith asked coyly.

Maddox smiled. "I suppose so. Because if there is, I wouldn't want to intrude any further."

"You are not intruding," Tanith said, resting her hand tentatively on his forearm. "I enjoy talking to you. But I feel I must admit that I do have another in my thoughts."

"That's a weird way of saying you've got a betrothed!" Maddox laughed, shaking the obvious disappointment from his face.

Tanith smiled, feeling slight relief that Maddox would accept the rejection without anger, but she felt a pang of something bad in her stomach. He had a point. She was not betrothed to anyone. She did not even know what Theon felt for her, other than a fleeting kiss that had not been capitalised on since. Where was he now? Everyone around them was laughing, talking and winding down for the evening. If he wanted to see her, he would have come looking for her. Was she pinning her hopes on someone who did not have any intentions, let alone honourable ones?

"You are right," she sighed. "Not a promise has been made, out loud at least, but there is someone else."

Maddox held his hands up, shaking his head. "Say no more, milady. He is a lucky gentleman, and I hope he knows that!" With that he kissed her hand, rose to his one good foot, bid her goodnight and hobbled off to his tent. Tanith sighed, feeling rotten at the rejection of a genuinely lovely man. But a flicker of excitement engorged her stomach. Perhaps it took this conversation with Maddox for her to realise that whatever she was to him, Theon Greyjoy was something to her.

Was it a bad idea to go and find him? Talisa had suggested she lay her cards on the table, and Robb had said Theon felt something for her he had not felt for another. Maybe he was pacing in his tent, deliberating how to approach Tanith? Maybe this once, she had to make the first move, so he would know how she felt.

She smoothed her dress, tucked a stray curl behind her ear and rose to her feet, gazing up briefly at how black the sky had turned. She looked back down to find him standing there, about ten, perhaps fifteen feet away. He was in his trousers and just an undershirt, unbuttoned to tease the slightest reveal of his chest, which she had longed to see again after that day he invited her into his tent. Even in the dark night, a nearby fire meant she could make out the sweat beads draped across his collar bone. Something in her ached.

"Theon."

As she said his name aloud, it echoed in her own ears as if she had screamed it across the Seven Kingdoms. He said nothing, and at first she thought him shy. She began to speak again, but looked at his face more closely. Theon Greyjoy was many things, but shy was not one of them. As the silence continued, he looked… angry.

"Don't mind me." He said viciously, before turning away and storming into the night.

Theon

As if I needed any more fucking convincing that she regrets that kiss, Theon thought. He knew what he saw. Her laughing her head off with that ginger prick. Touching his arm, hugging him, all over him. He was embarrassed for her. It made him sick.

Tears blinded him as he tried to see his way through the dark night. He could hear her calling, only faintly, but he kept going. His ego couldn't take her explaining that she didn't want him, that the kiss was a mistake. All of it was a mistake.

He picked up his pace, and eventually he was running into the woods. The faint chatter and eerie glow of the campfires faded into nothing, and he was in total darkness. He shoved branches out of his way, muttering and cursing under his breath as he pushed through the woods. Perhaps if he kept going, he would reach the sea and just swim to Pyke.

Why stop there? He could go west of Westeros. Away from all of it. He was getting sick of it. Always an outsider. Not quite a Greyjoy, never a Stark. The one thing silencing these angry thoughts that had been clambering around his head for the last twenty-five years in the last few weeks was her. He would have gone through it all, the rigmarole of going to Pyke and getting his father's army for Robb and fighting the stupid fucking campaigns for him. The sooner he did all of that, the sooner he would be back to her.

He felt like a fool. In these weeks he had been calmer and kinder. He hadn't risen late in the day, hungover and full of dread with a naked whore wrapped around him. He woke with a drive to do his duty and to be someone she would want. He would wake early, but daydream of her and imagine her in his bed. At first he just wanted to fuck her, and he would try to imagine it. Of course he still wanted to fuck her, but not just like a cheap whore. He wanted to touch her and feel her. He wanted to lie next to her. He wanted to please her. He wanted to love her.

But none of that was going to happen, and although Theon knew all along, he let himself be seduced by her beauty. Why did she have to be so beautiful? She had such an angelic face, with those green eyes, her dimples and her smile. And then there was her body, which Theon wished he could see, but he knew it would be cracking.

He had slowed, realising he had no idea where he was. The clouds had passed and the moon shone through a clearing, providing him with the only light he would find in these woods. He moved over to the clearing and sat by a log, panting and out of breath. He gazed up at the moon, and wiped another tear from his cheek.

"Theon!"

Fuck, how did she find me?

"Theon, where are you?"

It was definitely her. He could not see her, but he could make out a tiny dot of an amber light nearing him. Her voice grew louder too. Eventually he saw her, wading through the jutting branches and into the clearing. Her dress was covered in mud at the bottom, and her hair stuck to her forehead, glistened with sweat. Her chest bounded up and down as she regained her breathing. She was holding a lantern, and held it in front of her as she approached him.

"Go back to camp, Tanith."

"No." Theon was slightly impressed at how indignant she sounded. "I want to know what happened back there." She rested against the log next to him and reached out her hand to touch his shoulder, but Theon got there first and stood up straight, walking away from her.

"I saw you."

"You saw me?"

"Yeah I saw you!" he shouted, turning to face her. Their faces were inches from each other. He was about five inches taller than her, and he could see the moon glint in her eyes as she looked up at him. "With that prick! Laughing and joking for all to see."

"Who, Maddox?"

"I don't give a fuck what his name is."

"Theon, please! All I was doing was cleaning his leg wound."

"Yeah right." Theon barked, turning away from her again. He didn't want to see her pleading. "You don't laugh like that with a man unless it means something."

"That is not true! He may have said that he thought highly of me, but I made it clear to him that I…" she trailed off, and Theon looked around at her. Tears were welling in her eyes, but they had not fallen yet.

"You made it clear that what?" he demanded. She shook her head, and began crying. "Nah, don't start that now!" he grabbed her arms and shook her. "What did you say?!"

"Stop it, STOP!" she pushed him away with all her might, and as he was not expecting it he stumbled back a bit. She did too, and dropped the lantern.

"Fuck's sake." Theon stomped out the light before it caught onto the grass below them. It was much darker now, and they could only see each other's silhouettes in the moonlight. Theon could still hear her crying though.

They both stood, a few feet apart, the night air being filled only with the flowing water of a nearby burn and her quiet sobs. Theon approached her awkwardly from behind, gingerly placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry for grabbing you like that," he muttered. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You didn't." She wiped her face with her sleeve and turned to face him. "Not like that anyway."

"I just… I saw what I saw."

"You were wrong, Theon," she said, her voice still wobbling a little from her crying. "I told Maddox I did not feel that way."

"Really?"

She said nothing, but Theon saw her silhouette nod. He knew she was looking right at him, and the intensity of her stare made him burn, even in the pitch dark.

"Well," he coughed. "I'm glad."

"You are?"

He cleared his throat. He wanted to kick himself for getting the wrong idea. He was no good at this, and he felt not good enough for her. But there was a war on, and she showed up in his life on a little rowboat out of nowhere. If there was anything Theon had learned lately it was that anything could happen. She was standing before him now in the middle of a dark forest, and they felt like the only two people in the world. Before they returned to whatever awaited them, tonight and for the rest of their lives, he had to say it.

"I don't want you to be with anyone else." He reached out his hand and found her cheek, brushing it with his fingers. He could feel the corner of her mouth rising. He used the other hand to grab her waist and pull her close to him. She did not resist as he buried his face in her hair.

"I want you to be with me." He whispered into the night.