Chapter 2: Theon III
The ride back to Winterfell had calmed him considerably. Theon tried to think more rationally as he rode, muttering to himself at first to try and remember how events had played before. But as it went on, a thought occurred to him; maybe it had all been a dream.
A dream, brought on by nearly dying in the river. There was no war. No torture, no suffering, no risen dead. Theon wanted to believe it. He didn't, but he wanted to. If it was a dream, then he could just try and drink away what he had seen, let it fade away. But Theon knew it wouldn't be that simple and easy. His life had never been easy. As they rode on and on, Theon tried and failed to sell himself on the idea that he didn't have to try and prevent several years of conflict or face legions of Winter incarnate.
By the time Robb had gotten him to his bed, Theon had coaxed himself into a strange sense of contentment, as he tried to just enjoy this new life before him. As he sat down on the blankets, he laughed, the same rasping, choked hiss of a laugh he had developed in the Dreadfort. With a full set of unshattered teeth, it sounded a bit strange to his ears. It must have sounded even stranger to Robb too, who said, "The maester's coming, I'm sure. We'll get you something for that cough."
Theon, a touch confused, just waved his hand. "Cough? I'm just havin' a laugh. Never thought I'd get to just rest in my bed here in Winterfell ever again."
Robb frowned. He looked so young and boyish, even if it wouldn't have been long before he was commanding armies. "Were you… that scared to die?"
"No I'm not scared to die," Theon said without much thought. That had been true for a long time. "It was more like I just… accepted things. Accepted I'd never get to come home. Dying's not as scary as I thought it'd be." Another choked laugh. "I don't recommend it, though."
Robb offered a half-hearted laugh before he gave his friend a long, concerned look. "Theon, what—"
The door of the room interrupted the eldest Stark boy, as Maester Luwin shuffled in. "Ah, Robb, excellent. I hope you can provide me with some additional details about the incident."
Luwin. A good man… Who killed him, I wonder? Was it Dagmer and the mutineers? Or was it Ramsay's men in their 'reclaiming' of the castle? I suppose if not one, the other, and my fault all the same.
"Maester? I, w-well, of course, but… Well, where's my father? He saw more of what happened."
"Your father gave me his best summary a moment ago, but he has other matters to attend to."
"Other matters?" Robb asked, tone angry. Theon leaned back against the wall, touched by Robb's passionate concern.
Not that I deserve it after what I've done. Even if it's all been undone, I still did it. Or I would have if I didn't already. But this time I will do more than atone. I create something better for you, Robb.
"Yes. Other matters. The King will be on his way to Winterfell soon."
Robb's eyes went wide in surprise, while Theon's did the same in panic. "The King is coming here?" Robb asked.
Luwin nodded. "Indeed. And not for a joyous occasion. Your father's mentor, Jo—"
"Jon Arryn is dead," Theon on said, his brow furrowing as a wave of sorrow crashed against him. He hadn't realized just how quickly everything would be happening. In his own memories, things were often jumbled. It was hard to remember if finding the wolves had happened on the same day as the raven from King's Landing. And yet it must have been. "He's dead, and the King is coming to make Lord Stark his Hand."
It was quite rare for Luwin to look shocked, from what Theon could remember of him. He always seemed in control of things, as if he had studied so much knowledge that there was nothing he could not predict or understand. But as Theon spoke knowledge he should not know, he looked at him as if he had grown a third thumb from his forehead.
"Confusion doesn't suit you, Maester," Theon murmured, not realizing he had said it aloud. Luwin looked at Robb, stumbling to find the right words. But Robb's own bewilderment made it clear that no one had told him any such thing. And since Robb had been the one to escort Theon from his horse to his bed, then no one could have told it to Theon. Luwin turned back to bed and walked closer, at a slower pace, as if he were approaching something dangerous.
"How did you know that, Theon?"
It was an obvious question to ask. But Theon didn't know how to answer.
I can't tell him I've lived eight years of war only to die fighting the undead. I can't tell him I was sent back across time to live again at the behest of the Drowned God. Just knowing about Jon Arryn has made him think I'm mad. They'll send me to Oldtown to be interred for insanity if I say the whole truth…
He'd wanted more time to think about what to do. His plan that he had formulated on the road was to never tell anyone the whole truth but to work in the background. Warn people in the rights ways, suggest things to make events play out differently. He'd had no set details yet, but having to reveal his knowledge so soon was not part of the plan at all.
A dry throat gripped him in panic, and he tried to clear it. However, he only caused himself to truly cough, then again, and then hard. An attack hit him, and he could feel his lungs desperate to get out whatever last drops of river water were irritating them.
It seemed to snap Luwin out of his confusion and fear. The maester moved to sit beside him and lightly pat his back while using his other hand to keep him from curling forward. "Robb," the maester called out, "fetch some water from the main hall." Luwin turned to Theon, who tried to pause his cough and whisper out "I'm sorry."
"Don't speak. Just try to breathe and calm the cough. Drinking water will help. Let's just let you rest for the moment. We can save the speaking for a little while longer."
Luwin… always so kind. And wise. I should have listened to you. Spared those farmboys. Given up the castle and taken the black. Jon'd've killed me, of course. But it'd've been a swift and just death.
By the time the cough had stopped, Robb had come rushing back in with a pitcher of water in one hand and a stone cup in the other. Theon's throat felt raw and ragged. The cool water was refreshing, and for a time the room was still. Theon sipped his water, Robb refilled it when it was empty, and Luwin sat there rubbing his back. While it hadn't been pleasant, Theon was grateful for some time to formulate an answer to Luwin's questions.
There came a knock at the door, and Septon Chayle entered. Theon could see the curiosity in the young priest's eyes, and he knew he was out of time.
Chapter 3: Robb I
It almost felt like the setup of a bad joke. A septon and a maester sitting at an ironborn's bedside, asking him about how he nearly drowned. Robb had politely gone to the opposite end of the room, by the door, but he had refused to leave. Septon Chayle had wanted to argue, but Maester Luwin let it go.
At first, they had asked simple questions. What he remembered of his fall, of the river. How he was feeling. Luwin preferred physical details, about his chest, his lungs, his throat. Chayle was focused more on Theon's feelings, about nearly dying, about falling, about his life.
And I almost didn't notice. He might have died if father hadn't been looking over all of us like a real lord should. Like I should have been.
They went on for a while, with the maester pulling out a few tools from his pockets to examine Theon's throat, pulse, and eyes. All while the septon mumbled prayers for Theon's health. Robb knew what was coming eventually. Theon seemed fine physically. But his behavior had been off. Some moments he was jittery and confused as if he barely recognized anyone. In others, he had a melancholic calm, like an old man reminiscing. It had to be addressed, alongside his strange outburst about Jon Arryn.
Maybe it was just a guess. Or he heard something while we walked here that I didn't. Theon's no seer.
It was Luwin who broke the seal on the topic. "Well, I'm glad to hear your throat is better. Perhaps then we should discuss what I was asking before your coughing fit." Chayle looked confused but didn't interrupt. Luwin leaned down to look Theon more closely in the eyes. "Theon, I came here to examine you. When I did, I also wished to explain why Lord Stark was not here with me. But before I could explain his reason to you and to Robb, you already knew. You already knew that Jon Arryn was dead, and you already knew that the reason Robert Baratheon was coming to Winterfell was to ask Lord Stark to serve as Hand of the King. That is something that even Lord Stark and I have only theorized about, but that we presume based on our experiences." Thus far there had been no question, only a statement of fact.
Chayle, while initially surprised and concerned, had seemed to calm after a moment. He stroked his chin as Luwin just stared at Theon, who remained silent. Theon kept his lips pressed close together as the two waited for him.
Come on, Theon. Say something. They'll think you're mad at this point.
After a moment, Robb couldn't hold himself back. "Tell us how you knew, Theon. Please."
Theon put both hands between his legs and looked down. It was such a demure, submissive pose. It was disturbing to see. In the morning before the ride, Theon had needed to be chastised for being arrogant, for forgetting his place as a ward of the Starks and not a Stark himself. Now they were back home, and Robb was staring at a man who acted like a servant scared of a whipping.
"I… When I fell into the river, when I… drowned. I saw things. Things I don't understand, things I can only barely remember even now," Theon said. He was nervous and scared, and Robb felt sick to his stomach. "But I can remember some things…"
"What kinds of things, Theon?" Chayle asked, his voice gentle.
"Things that haven't happened yet."
Luwin frowned. "Theon, surely you must have hallucinated, or merely dreamed, based on something you overheard, perhaps. Maybe you heard Lord Stark mention that the Lord Hand was sick, and Lord Stark is a logical replac—"
"No!" Theon said, cutting off the maester yet again. "I saw it, heard it, I was standing right there. I was there, hearing Lord Stark explain that Jon Arryn was dead. I was there when he told us he would be leaving for King's Landing to serve as Hand of the King. I was there when we learned Lord Stark had d—" Theon closed his mouth and scowled to himself.
When he what? What's going to happen to father?!
"Theon, tell us more!" Robb snapped. Luwin turned to glare at him, and Chayle held up a hand.
"Let us all calm ourselves. Theon? Theon, I believe you. Maester, with all respect, there are tomes in our own library that make mention of seizures being connected to visions. One theory has said that the body cannot handle the Seven touching our minds, or that it is a response to trying to process the sudden flow of information." Chayle sounded almost excited. "Please, Theon, allow me to transcribe all you have seen. If the Seven is wishing to work through you, I will do whatever it takes to be a part of it!"
That seemed to make Theon laugh. It was that same ugly laugh he'd been doing since the river. It made Robb think Theon was being strangled. But then he turned to look at Chayle, and was almost sneering. "Not your Seven-faced God," he said.
"P-pardon?" Chayle asked.
"It was not your New God that showed me anything. Not the Father, the Smith, or the Warrior. Not the Mother, the Maiden, or the Crone. Not even the Stranger, or any other mask of your green land god." Theon spoke with a fire Robb had rarely seen in him, a conviction and certainty of truth that was usually wielded by Septa Mordane when she preached to the Stark children about their misbehavior.
Theon turned to Luwin then. "I need guidance, but not from a septon. I need a raven sent to Pyke. I need a Drowned Man."
[A/N]: Alright so we're on Chapter 2 and Theon has already started to fuck up his secret time traveler fix-it plan. But it's OK, he has a good excuse: being chosen by god! That'll go well, right? If you're wondering "Theon, what in the Seven Hells are you thinking saying all that?" then you'll just have to wait for the next chapter when we get Theon's POV and you get a look at his thought process.
Oh and if the inclusion of Chayle wasn't an indicator, I'm operating as most authors do on a principle of "unless the show directly contradicts, things in the books are canon". With canon divergence, that means leaning a lot on the books over the show. As noted, I'm keeping Asha as Yara (I just like the name better), and I will also be keeping Jeyne Westerling as Talisa Maegyr because I find Talisa to be a much more interesting character.
Please feel free to leave reviews and favorite this story, you have no idea how much they help motivate me to write. Knowing the fic has fans makes me want to give you more.