Part 21; To Come to Terms.

Nothing can dim the

light that shines

from within.

Theon

He had no knowledge of the amount of time that passed.

Was it hours? Minutes? Eternity?

He knew not.

However, it took him a long time to reunite with his mind. To cease rocking in the fetal position.

The servant girl's touch was frantic upon his arm. Her movements vibrated him. Rattled him straight to the core.

"T-Take it away…Take that t-thing, off of her!" Theon finally snapped at the servant.

Sea-green optics deadly serious. He would kill it. Strangle it—burn it. If she did not remove the monstrosity—Right. Now.

Horrified, the servant reached for the little babe. That now, had finished suckling. Scurrying from the chambers.

Turning on the bed, Theon wound an arm around Sansa's middle. Drew her in close. Let the heat from her bodice, warm his chilled to the bone, one.

Tears made a stream down either worn-cheek. "S-Survive…You h-have to s-survive…" Pleading whispers of despair.

"Y-You c-cannot leave m-me…I n-need you."

Those hunches, had been infallible. Sansa knew all along, what she was carrying. Nourishing—A monster. Why had he never believed? He had so desperately, longed to believe, the babe would be kind. Good. Like Sansa.

Birthing that thing; nearly cost Sansa, her life.

The thought penetrated to his core. Resulting in blood-chills up the base of his spine. Chin rested precariously on a bony shoulder.

Sansa was so thin. Bone-thin. Only the bloat of her abdomen provided the illusion of weight on her being. Structurally, every bone could be viewed, underneath pale skin.

How had he overlooked it? The boniness? Gaunt, haunted visage. This pregnancy nearly destroyed her.

For a monster.

Theon laid with his ear to her breast. His only hope to survey her breath sounds. Her heartbeat.

He could not bear it if either stopped.

If she gave up the fight.

One of his rough hands, clung hold of hers. Squeezed to will her his strength. She could take what he had. He would give her all of it.

All of him.

Whatever it took. He would not put her in the ground.

He could not.

All through the night he willed her to live. Held her near, permitted the monstrosity to feed—after some coaxing from Jon, himself.

But, only after Sansa's heartbeat, strengthened.

He would only use the chamber pot—refused to leave her long enough to use the privy. And he refused all food. He would not eat—not until he knew she would live.

Time passed in a blur. Morning streams beamed in through the curtains, but Theon hardly noticed.

Not until; Sansa stirred.

Little moaning whines emerged from her throat. Small maneuvers made on the sheets. Theon had resolved to hold her, balanced in his arms, whilst the servants stripped the bedsheets. Replaced the rabbit-furs with fox-furs. Clean bedlinens laid underneath their forms.

In silence, Theon had cleansed pale-white skin. Cleaned grime. Filth. Blood. Off of her. Same as she had for him, whilst he had laid unconscious. Only rose-scent permeated her skin.

Those Tully-blue optics found his—and Theon's heart nearly ceased to beat.

"T-Theon…" Drawn out whispers, emerged from dry—parched—vocals.

Fingers swiped through strands of crimson-hair just behind her ear. Tears rimmed green-eyes.

"I am h-here, Sansa…Right here." Light, tender-strokes were made against dull, cheek-skin with the ridge of his knuckles.

Seeking-fingers sought out his bony-wrist. Thumb pad lightly dragged, just there. At his pulse-point. Theon's eyes closed. Just moments ago, his belief was that, he may never know her ghostly-touch again.

"What…h-happened…" Little coughs, rattled her chest.

Theon's stomach clenched.

"You…went into l-labor. The baby…was turned the wrong way, you nearly bled to death." Trembling; Theon kissed her forehead. "Y-You almost…left me…"

Blue optics fell to him; sympathetic features lined her face.

"Where…is…baby?"

Theon wracked with chills. Fell, silent.

What could he say? The child was a boy? Reminiscent of Ramsey? Each statement made his belly churn harder. How could he tell her? Her worst fears were proved true.

"The baby…is a boy…b-but…" Swallowing—Theon flinched.

"But….?" Awakening further, Sansa's eyes frantically searched his.

Theon could not breathe. Crushing weight encroached on his lungs. Heart. Body. Rapidly—his head shook. Refused to meet her eye. How could he tell her?

"T-Tell m-me…What…is w-wrong?" Chilled-fingers cupped either cheek.

Tears flowed unabated down his cheeks. Sniffling. Twitching. Squirming.

Theon swallowed.

"He…H-He looks like R-Ramsey."

Sansa's hands dropped from his cheeks. Pure horror wrote into her eyes. Theon reached for her hands. Squeezed.

Tears overflowed down either of her cheeks.

"N-No...No…H-He cannot!" Sansa persisted.

Sansa

Reaching out—Sansa gripped him. Fear tugged her belly. Seared her insides.

Was this real? True? Could it be?

Skin fluttered with repressed chills. Heart beat with thick pumps. How could this happen?

Her hand lowered. Grazed the absence of the fetus previously nestled, within. Soft, bulging flesh still lingered—No babe.

It had been born. The monstrosity was here—and terrorizing Theon.

She viewed it in his eyes. Scared. Helpless. Wracked with tremors. Sansa's heart cinched.

"Breathe—T-Theon…B-Breathe." With more strength than she knew she had. Her hand enclosed around his.

Squeezed.

Tears tracked trails down exhausted-cheeks. Theon curled near. Like a cat. Nuzzled within the crook of her arm.

"We w-will survive…I will n-not let him h-hurt us." Could she guarantee such a folly?

After, the horrors she bore witness to, in Ramsey's cruel stead.

Sons were difficult. Impossible to control. She prayed to the Gods his temperament was that of her brothers. Her family. That he could be like Robb—or Bran. Fierce—but loyal.

She prayed—but would her prayers be answered?

"I…I want to see him." Daring to say the words. Her eyes cracked open.

Theon met them with sorrow-written within his own. For a long moment—Sansa thought he might, deny her.

Finally, He piped up.

"A-As you wish." He stood.

Sansa recognized his nudity—for the first time, since she woke.

"Have you not dressed?"

Theon halted, seemed to recognize himself, his lack of attire.

"No." Sheepishly, shy-eyes met hers.

"Put on a tunic at least…" Mild, amusement lit in her eyes. Perhaps she could find a bit of enjoyment—somewhere.

If not in the child she now had to contend with.

Blushing, furiously, Theon crossed their chambers. Yanked a tunic from the dresser, hurried it over his head—prior to scurrying out the door.

Left alone in emptiness. Sansa listened to the crackle of the fire. Recalled the rough, firm kicks of the child as it grew. Recalled her fear. The adamant manner in which she claimed it would kill her. This babe nearly had—and yet…

She was still its mother.

The only babe she would ever know. And it was tainted.

Toxic.

Just like her.

Sansa jolted as the door hinges creaked. Theon entered. Infant-bundled in a woolen-blanket, tucked within his arms.

He would not peer down at it. All signs of insistence that the babe would be good—were gone.

She witnessed disdain in his eyes. Hatred. Fear.

Preparing herself. She took the babe from him.

Let her fingers brush the sleeping cherub of the babe's cheek. Thumb swiped over soft, angelic-skin. There was warmth. Light.

She felt her heart slow. The babe opened its eyes. Blue things found their way into hers. Cheeks upturned in a little, slight, smile. Eyebrows furrowed. Theon was stock still by her bedside.

"Sit."

He complied. Stripped off the tunic-Nestled right up to her side. Permitted bare skin to touch.

"He has Robb's eyes, Theon." Calmly, she surveyed the babe. Rubbed, soft fingers through curly-wisps of hair-strands. "Robb's hair…"

Tears flooded her eyes—this time—for a different reason.

Sansa did not see Ramsey in her son.

But her beloved brother. Her father. Her mother.

She saw her family reflected back at her. Theon was stock still.

Unmoving—uncommenting.

Could he see it now, too?

This babe she feared so completely—was no monster.

It was just a child.

Theon was right before—he was hers to raise. Influence.

Love. And she would love him. Ramsey, never knew love. Not from a mother.

In silence, Sansa nestled the little being at her breast. He suckled, gentle, pulling sucks.

Theon gaped. Apparent astonishment written on his face.

"S-Sansa…"

"Do you not see it? You looked upon my brother's face for so many years. Can you deny the similarities?" Docile whispers came from her throat. Rocking the little creature, she made humming noises in her throat.

Theon swallowed. "I do, Sansa." Finally, he agreed. Flickers of light shone in his eyes.

Hope.

"We will raise him to be good. Like you said. You can teach him to be a man, and I will teach him to be loving. Kind." Her head leaned on Theon's broad-shoulder.

"I…I cannot. I know not, how to be a man, Sansa. Not anymore."

"You are a man, Theon. You never stopped being a man. Ramsey could not take your gender from you." Shaky-fingers closed around his. "You are the father of my son. He will need you."

For an instant—light shone in sea-green orbs.

"Y-You want me to be his father?" Seeking approval.

Sansa nodded. "You always were. You are my husband." Reassurances parted from soft-petals. Love shone in her gaze.

The babe suckled her dry—and she shifted him to the other breast. Let him drink his fill.

"What will you name him?"

For a long moment—she thought on it. "Robb. He shall be named, Robb Greyjoy."

Shocked tears, parted down Theon's cheeks. Speechless. Theon gaped.

AN: Sorry for the delay, between parts! I am working on a few different Game of Thrones fanfictions at the moment! The Yara/Theon one is very long, and taking alot longer for me to write the three intended parts! I am also working on a separate Theon/Sansa one, that will be in a different timeline than this one! So if interested in reading them, they will be posted on here, as I write them! The first part of Yara/Theon is up. And I am currently working on the second part. I have yet to post the second Sansa/Theon, but will do soon! I love hearing from you all, and adore the excitement surrounding this fiction! You all make my days!