AN: This is one of the heaviest chapters I have written in a while! There is a lot of darkness and angst and insanity! It is also super long! Probably the longest I've ever written for this particular fanfic! You have all been warned, M'dears!
Part 45; To Gather Unseen Truths
Nothing is ever
cut-and-dried.
There is anguish behind
everything.
Reek
Despite feeling accomplishment in the sense that he'd mended fences with Robb, something entirely new appeared to have surfaced. He couldn't quite put his finger on what precisely it was that he sensed … but it was something.
Robb had returned to curling up in bed with the both of them, squeezed between their naked bodies and nuzzled into the cusp of either of their necks' while they slept, but Reek had a winding suspicion that Sansa was using Robb's return to their bed, as a reason not to have relations with him – again.
He pulled from Theon's memories and found that it was the same for his counterpart.
Neither of them had been touched by Sansa in the past week. Not since the day he'd taken it upon himself to work out the kinks in his and Robb's relationship.
It was more than that, however.
Colton, too was behaving strangely. The expressions on his face were often pained and reserved, especially when he occupied the same room as Sansa.
Neither of them would so much as glance at each other, and it wasn't long before one, or both of them would excuse themselves from the room if they happened to occupy it at the same time.
Colton spent a great deal more time in his chambers, while Sansa had almost completely shut herself away in theirs. Reek couldn't honestly say he understood what had transpired between them, but whatever it was, must have done further detriment to their relationship.
He knew that Theon had hoped for their friendship, but Reek couldn't see it actually coming to fruition, at this point.
He'd permitted the coldness and avoidance to continue for over a week. He hadn't challenged either of them … hadn't commented on Sansa's unwillingness to touch him. But it had begun to hurt. And though he dreaded the knowing about whatever had occurred to cause this sudden behavior, he knew that the subject could be avoided no longer.
Just that morning he'd watched Sansa nearly burst into tears when she reached for the sausage platter at the same time as Colton.
Their hands had grazed, briefly and she'd jerked back like she'd been shot and stormed for her chambers, with a hasty apology in his direction.
Before he could so much as throw a questioning glance at Colton, he too had launched to his feet and fled in the opposite direction, toward his own chambers.
Even Jon had begun to notice the distinct shift in the pair of them and had thrown Reek a questioning stare, which Reek had shrugged off, as though it were nothing.
But it was something … and these kinds of moments couldn't continue.
Theon agreed with him, that one of them desperately needed to confront one or both of them. And Reek decided that he would be the one to handle it.
He'd dealt with Robb … surely this couldn't be so difficult.
He understood why Sansa was hurting. Colton was the spitting image of Theon in his youth … of course that hurt her.
To look upon a man that was almost her age, one that called her 'Mother' on occasion? He could understand her hesitance. He was still growing used to Colton's presence himself.
So, with the decision in mind to mend whatever he could of this trying situation, he pushed open the chamber door that opened into Colton's bedchambers with a low sigh.
Colton was perched on the edge of his mattress, head in hands, tears wet down his cheeks.
Reek noticed how small his son looked, in the midst of his broken exterior, there was something so melancholy in the sight of him in such a way. It made Reek's heartstrings tug with sympathy.
Had he been wrong to grant Colton permission to stay in Winterfell? Was Sansa simply too wounded by the mere existence of his son to overcome the pain of seeing him every day? Reek rippled with shivers from the thought.
With a creak he closed the leaden door and Colton glanced up at him, wiping what remained of his tears.
"Father … I … forgive me, I shouldn't have stormed out like I did …" he began to apologize, but Reek wasn't here to extract an apology. He simply wanted to understand.
He wanted to know what made Sansa turn inward, unable to share her emotions … her feelings, with him. He wondered whether it was something Colton had done … or if it truly was a coincidence that came with Robb's return to their marital bed.
Or was it something Reek had done, himself?
Reek felt his stomach churn with the express possibility.
He'd always known his body wasn't desirable, perhaps Sansa finally decided she no longer wanted him. He knew she'd forgiven him for his past; for Colton … but what if she couldn't put it out of her heart? What if she couldn't forgive him all the way?
The last thing he desired was for these emotions to fester in her and ruin their affection – their trust.
"There is nothing to forgive, Colton," he reassured his son, warmly, concern in his tone.
He could feel his skin starting to crawl under his tunic and he forced himself to keep it together. He needed to have a conversation without the bad thoughts running out of control. He had to do this … it was the only way he could repair what was fractured in their home.
Colton seemed to go rigid with those words. Almost uncomfortable … then he lowered his head and refused to look Reek in the eyes, again.
"Which one of you is saying that? Theon? Or Reek?" Colton whispered in a low drawl that caused a rippled shiver to coarse up Reek's spine.
"Reek," he answered, hesitantly, "But Theon would say the same. There is nothing to forgive. You're our son. You're my son, Colton."
Colton stood from his place on the edge of his bed and reached for the decanter perched on the nearby table. Without looking up he poured himself a glass and downed the entire thing, without a pause.
Reek's stomach turned over as he bore witness to the forlorn display.
What troubled Colton so ferociously that it required a drink to bear? He finally decided he'd ask. He needed to understand.
"Sansa can't barely look at me …"
Colton froze, decanter poised, ready to pour himself another glass. His head swiveled to land on Reek and a mournful expression passed his face.
"I'm sorry …" Colton said again, but this time, chills spiraled up Reek's spine from the clipped sound of it. It was the curbed edge in his voice … such a carefully controlled tone that made Reek's blood chill.
Reek swallowed thickly and inched closer to his son, still hesitant to do so. "She won't touch me …" another flinch from Colton and his hand began to shake, decanter and all, "and she looks at me with these eyes of pain and guilt … like she's sorry for something … but I don't know what she has to be sorry for …" Reek explained.
Colton raised the entire decanter to his lips and chugged large gulps from the glass rim. Reek's eyes widened at the sight, now thoroughly convinced something absolutely unseemly had gone on between his wife and his son.
Reek tried to balance himself, and surged forward, pulling the decanter down from Colton's lips, prying it from his hand, he replanted it down on the nightstand where it had previously been.
"Colton … What happened between the two of you? Why is Sansa like this …? Why are you like this?" he pried, trying to peel back the layers of Colton's soul.
He wondered if he should have gone to Sansa first … but he knew she would let whatever was bothering her fester until she was so far from her usual self, that she was unrecognizable. He needed to hear it from Colton, first.
"Why don't you ask, Sansa? Why me?" he breathed out, hollowly.
Reek tried to hold back the tears that brimmed his eyes. "Because … I … I don't think she'd tell me … she's been so distant …"
Reek's voice began to tremble. His skin pricked with the realization that he may be too broken by whatever this was … to come back from it.
Why else would Sansa keep it from him?
Why else would she stop wanting his touch? His love?
They were inseparable for so long … now she didn't want him …
Colton sighed, long and heavy, tears of his own trekked down his cheeks, "You'll hate me, Father … She told me you would … You'll never forgive me … and I ... I won't be the thing that permanently destroys your marriage …"
Reek's heart shattered and he took a few steps away from Colton. Was he admitting to what he believed he was? Had he … had he bedded Sansa? The thought made Reek's insides turn upside down and inside out.
He always knew Sansa couldn't be happy indefinitely with a man that wasn't functioning properly … He'd tried to tell her that he wasn't worthy of her, so many times over. So why hadn't she ever listened to him?
Colton was handsome and closer to Sansa's age than he was … and most of all … he was whole.
Whole … and the spitting image of a younger Theon.
He was intact between his thighs, even now, Reek could see the bulge of his son's manhood. Proudly nestled where it was always meant to be.
Had Sansa given in to that temptation? He couldn't think of anything else that would make her believe he'd never forgive the pair of them.
The truth was, Reek would forgive Sansa. For anything she did to him. Even if she took to Colton's bed. He'd forgive her … It would hurt severely, but she deserved to be happy. After so much pain and torment at Ramsay's hands … then dealing with him and his personalities … and their childless rutting … he could see the pain in her. The absolute, destruction that ravaged her heart every time she saw Jon's wife with all her babes around her.
"Did you bed her?" Reek's voice shook and his face crumbled as he tried to contain his emotions.
There was such anguish in him, even asking that question. Even mentioning it.
Colton's eyes widened to a bulge and his head shook almost immediately. "N-No, Father … I didn't … but we almost …" he blinked back tears of regret, "she kissed me and … and I almost … but she pulled away … It isn't what you think … it wasn't for the reason you think …" Colton tried to explain in a jumble of words.
Reek's heart cinched so tight he thought it might stop beating. He should be in shock. He should be reverting into his mind and zoning out right about now … but instead, he was standing still, listening to his son explain that they'd kissed … that she'd wanted him … wanted Colton in their marital bed … and Reek didn't know how to feel about it.
He felt so worthless and gross. He was once again in the way of Sansa and her happiness. If he wasn't her husband, she could have had Colton to herself. She could have married his son and had beautiful children. She might have been happy.
Not saddled with a broken, useless, creature such as Reek.
Reek swiped away a few tears and nodded his head.
"And what am I to think, Colton? I've always known Sansa needs a true man in her bed. I'm not so delusional as to believe that I am a worthy husband for her … I've never believed I was … If … If you can make her happy … if you are who she would prefer in her chambers … if that is what this is about … then she should know I would never prevent her from having that … from having you …" Reek tried to explain softly, "Nor would Theon …"
Colton swallowed; eyes wide with horror.
"Father, that's not …" Colton rubbed his forehead as though staving off a headache, before he chanced a glance back at Reek, "She wants your children, Father … children that resemble you … she wanted me because … because she believes my children … they would be your blood … they'd look like me … like you …" Colton shook his head, "It's not love … between us, Father … but I told her that I would happily give you both that … I told her I would … if its what she wants … what you both want … but she kicked me out … I suspect she's ashamed … for wanting that … for wanting your babies so badly she'd take mine in her desperation …"
Reek's skin fluttered and true realization passed through his veins. He understood the guilt that was eating Sansa. Eating Colton … He could see the anguish behind those sea-green eyes and knew in his heart, the cause was him.
His reaction to all of this was the reason Sansa had been avoidant of him. She didn't believe he would forgive her for kissing Colton … for wanting babies …
He hated himself.
He hated that he was the cause of her suffering, even indirectly. Again.
Reek took a stride forward and drew Colton into his arms. It was all he could think to do in the moment. He wanted his son to understand how much those words meant to him. He needed to belay how grateful he was to have a child that loved deep enough (and was compassionate enough) to offer a broken woman the children she desired.
It was bred into Winterfell – into the Stark children – that a large family was a happy one.
Theon himself had bore witness to the beauty of their massive family, Reek could sense it in Theon's memories. He yearned for it with all his heart. To be surrounded by his and Sansa's babies … and he couldn't provide her that. But Colton could.
Colton could provide them children.
If it would make Sansa smile … if it would make her happy … why shouldn't he allow it?
Colton went rigid with shock from the sudden embrace, but recovered quickly and wrapped his arms around Reek's middle. Reek kissed the side of Colten's cheek and retracted after a moment of standing there, like that.
"She should know that I'd give her anything, Colton. If she'd only asked … I'd have told her she has my blessing …" he sighed.
It was going to be a lot to take. He knew that everyone in Winterfell was well aware of his inability to father children. Enough of them had caught him with Sansa rutting on these grounds. They knew what his mangled bits looked like. Most whispered about it.
About him.
If even Robb had heard those whispers, it meant that the whispers would be made ten-fold if he allowed them to embark on this course.
Everyone would know the children she swelled with were not Theon's. Not Reek's. And when they came out with his features combined with hers … well … everyone would know who fathered them. And they would talk.
Talk and spread the news. From here to King's Landing. Probably as far away as the Iron Islands … and it would be humiliating … but he'd endured far worse than whispers and rumors. He could survive this.
"I only want to make you happy, Father … I'd do anything for you …" Colton breathed out; his green eyes thoroughly calmed in their resolve.
"I know, Son. I'm not cross with you. Children are the one thing I cannot provide for her … and I regret that … I've told her I'd do anything to change it … and she has to know I love her enough to allow her this …" Reek worked his jaw, ignoring the ripples of pain in his heart.
"She doesn't want to hurt you, Father," Colton admitted, gently. "But you should speak to her about it …"
Reek knew he had to talk to Sansa. He didn't know how he was going to broach the subject, but he would try. Even if his skin rippled with sadness and his heart ached to think of Sansa in bed with his son, the idea of a babe was too formidable to let go.
He would grant her permission, even if it ate at him to do so.
Sansa
Ever since that day between her and Colton, she couldn't find a way to distract herself from it. The thought of a child – the closest thing to Theon'schild she'd ever know – running around Winterfell, growing up with Robb and its cousins, learning to shoot an arrow with Theon … So many happy memories that could never be.
She couldn't stop her mind from wanting another child.
Little Robb was soon going to come to a point where he didn't want to be close to her anymore. Right now, he seemed to revel in sleeping in their marital bed, cuddled up bare without boundaries between them, but despite his claims to the contrary he was bound to age. And with age, his need for privacy would come with it.
He'd no longer feed from her breast, or ask inappropriate questions. He'd be like all children when they eventually grew up.
He'd be independent.
Sansa was so ashamed when she thought about how close she'd come to letting Colton take her to bed. Even more ashamed when she found herself wondering what it might feel like to have a man inside of her. It was wrong … and it wasn't fair, but she'd always wondered what gentle intercourse might be like.
Ramsay had always been rough and punishing, but the way Colton had kissed her, had been needy but gentle. Like Theon's own touches.
Had she closed her eyes; she could have pretended it was Theon that had been touching her with that same cusp of soft longing in his graze. Kissing her with passion and timid traces of an eager tongue on her bottom lip. And it wasn't fair.
She felt so disgusted … so ashamed that she'd betrayed Theon so completely.
Her heart couldn't take the brokenness inside of her. That sensual longing to have a man burrowed in her. And not just any man … but her step-son. He'd called her 'Mother' just before she slammed their lips together for fuck's sake.
She couldn't get over it.
She didn't know how to get past these thoughts. These emotions.
They were eating at her from the inside out.
And she could see what she was doing to Theon and Reek. Both personalities were at odds with her. Because she'd shut them out. Again.
She'd stopped letting them touch her … again.
And it wasn't fair. Gods above … none of this was right or fair.
And that morning at breakfast, she'd known just how unfair it was. When Colton's hand had brushed hers and sent instantaneous tingles shooting everywhere underneath her skin.
It had felt like a thousand suns burning her everywhere, all at once. And need – lust – had shot straight into her belly and made her want him.
She hadn't stopped sobbing out her heart since she stormed into her chambers. And that is where she currently resided. Perched on the edge of her marital bed … the last place she should be, because in her heart of hearts she'd betrayed the man she loved.
She'd betrayed Theon – Reek – she'd betrayed them just by looking at Colton. And she'd betrayed her marital vows by wanting Colton's touch.
In that moment, during breakfast, she'd wanted to lace her fingers with his and feed off the shooting sensations between them. That's why she fled. That's why she couldn't bear to come out of her chambers. These chambers.
She was despicable.
The creak of the door opening, startled her. She expected one of the servants to come in and clear away the used water beside her bed, or possibly clean the chamber pot. But it wasn't one of the servants, like she hoped.
She saw the tender, yet wounded eyes of her husband staring back at her.
The instant she laid eyes on him she knew that he knew … he knew something. She launched to her feet and swung away from him. Her sobs only heightened and she couldn't breathe.
She simply couldn't gain her breath … because this wasn't happening.
She didn't mean to tell Colton to tell him the truth … she'd been sarcastic when she shouted those words … and she thought he knew that … it was over a full week later, after all … Had he finally worked up his nerve and revealed something?
Sansa thought she might be going to be sick. She felt her stomach lurch and her head pound.
And then Theon was there with his arms coiled around her middle from behind. Brushing the course of her stomach, the curve of her side – her waist – her full breasts …
He was tasting her neck, kissing her collarbone to her shoulder … holding her firm to his front.
He wouldn't let her fall – let her collapse – as she'd been about to do.
He held her up with the bulk of his muscles and kissed her cheek, near the shell of her ear, lastly, so that he might whisper gentle, calm words inside.
"You should have told me what you wanted from Colton …" his voice was almost culled. There were breaks in the vocals, cracks that told her it was Reek that said these things … not Theon.
Gods … Reek was the one dealing with the truth of what she'd done? That was worse than if it were Theon … so much worse because Reek is so fragile. He's always one bad thing away from breaking at the root and core ….
"R-Reek …" she gasped when one of his hands fisted her dress, raked up her skirts to press the hiked material to her abdomen with his forearm, leaving her bared parts ondisplay. His thumb found her clitoris and her knees buckled as she whined, but he held her up – she still didn't fall.
Pleasure screamed in her veins and she tried like hell to fight her way out of it because she didn't deserve to be engulfed in pleasure right now … Pleasure was the last thing she should be feeling …
Not with the betrayals in her heart … in her mind … in her bodice …
She squeezed her thighs, trapping his hand in place as she attempted to stave off the pleasure, he was providing … stoking in her … such a sinful contortion of pleasure … but he wasn't having it. He used his strength to circle the swell of her pearl, round and round until she was delirious and moaning for him.
Dripping for him.
Sex was a language that always returned them to each other. It was their home base … their continent … But that didn't mean it was right. Not when she was so packed with guilt, she believed an orgasm would make her literally burst and die from it all.
It wasn't fair that he was using it against her. Using it to control her emotions … to make her loose and agreeable.
"You want his babies, Sansa …? You want my kin to grow inside of you?" his voice was low and sultry. Intoxicating …
He was stroking the fire in her veins. Showing his control when it came to her bodice. The knowledge he wielded like a pleasant weapon against her guilt … her shame … and he was breaking her down before she could even tell him why she was so ashamed.
She whimpered high-pitched in her throat. Her muscles vibrated with need for him.
Her husband.
"I'm s-sorry … s-so sorry … I w-want your b-babies, R-Reek … you know how badly I've burned to have them …" she moaned louder when his thumb peeled back the hood of her clitoris, so his index finger could rub and tease the exposed bundle of nerves.
She was on fire – encompassed by those damned bursts of sensation. He breathed on her skin in warm bursts of air and she shivered all down her spine. All while he built her need, forcing it to rise in her core.
"I do, Sansa … I know how you ache for it … I know you've prayed for our children, Love …" he kissed her neck again, and she shuddered against his front. Sansa could feel the hard bulge of his stub, pushed into her spine. It made her pulse with primal urgency for him.
Gods … this wasn't fair …
"W-Won't … hurt … y-you …" Sansa managed to whine out between loud heaves of air from her lungs. She cried out when his spare hand reached for her breast, thumbed her nipples until milk trickled into the fabric of her dress.
"You hurt me more by refusing my touch …" his index finger purposefully pressed on her clitoris to accompany those words, making her mewl with the force of her need, "by not telling me what troubled you …" he thrust forward and she felt his stub pulse with what must have been excruciating want under his breeches.
"Didn't m-mean … to … Reek …!" she squealed when his finger rubbed extra-hard against her clitoris, until her eyes rolled back and she came over his fingers. Felt hot liquid stream down her thighs, as she squirted for her husband. Showered his hand in her juices and shuddered, bodily in his hold.
He turned her around then, hoisted her up and launched her onto the mattress. She barely had time to prepare, before his mouth was on hers. Kissing and exploring her cavern, running his tongue across her teeth and hiking her skirts back up around her middle. He tore open his breeches and his skin met hers.
Fire and ice flooded her and she succumbed to Reek's need. His mouth found her breast, his hand having freed it by tearing the fabric, and attached to the nipple, sucking down her milk in needy pulls. She tangled her fingers in his hair and gave in to the overwhelming sensation of his stub between her cunt lips and his hands over her waist and breasts.
When her milk ran dry, he reattached their mouths, allowed her to taste the creamy essence on his tongue. It wasn't until after he'd done it that she understood what he was doing. He retracted from her lips and delved down to kiss her earlobe, then whisper again, inside.
"Taste that Sansa? You're going to feed our babes with that milk …" he breathed, "You're going to let Colton into our marital bed … and you're going to let him make love to you … because you deserve to have a babe made purely out of love …" he coaxed in-between ruts of fiery need and Sansa fought back tears, this time for a far different reason, "… he's the Gods answer to your prayers … You're not going to feel guilt when you swell with his babes, however many times you swell with his babes … because his kin, is mine … his blood, is my blood and I want you to experience what a man that is whole of my blood feels like…"
Sansa couldn't contain her tears. She couldn't help the hurricane that was sweeping through her heart and lashing against her bones with every word Reek spoke. He was tearing at her from the inside and wrenching something deep, she didn't even realize existed.
Sansa wasn't even aware she could love another human being as much as she loved him. And she didn't previously believe it possible that she could ever love him more than she already had … but in that moment … she did.
She returned his kisses with fervent passion and pushed her hand down between their bodies, used her thumb to graze and push against his throbbing stub. She knew how Reek reveled in touch, above rutting. The friction of touch was more intimate than the working of their flesh together. And she knew his stub. She knew where he liked to be touched …
In seconds of her thumb being there, he stilled and came. She could feel the pulse of his need. Hear the catch in his breath and the spasm in his muscles.
"Tell me you're truly alright with it … promise me you will not break apart at the seams when he comes to our marital bed … promise me, Baby …" she cooed, all whilst driving him into the same cusp of insanity and pleasure that he'd just driven her to.
The place where it was difficult to think. Impossible to resist.
Deeper than any non-intimate souls could venture.
She needed his truth. She needed to see into his soul and she would only find it, while he was twisted and writhed in pleasure.
His muscles bunched on his shoulders and his pupils dilated, fully encased by his lust. His emotions.
"P-Promise … P-Promise, S-Sansa …" he uttered, laboriously, "H-He belongs in h-here … in o-our chambers … R-Robb said s-so …" his voice was meek and small. His skin was practically a bustle of heat and fire. She could smell the sweat on him and taste the truth when he shuddered and kissed her.
His eyes had gone somewhat distant, when the kiss broke. Her fingers were still pressed hard against his stub, working him into an orgasm that reverberated again and again throughout his muscles and veins.
His entire body was quivering from it. And her heart pondered the thought of Little Robb asking for Colton in their bed.
"You won't break?" she whispered again, still disbelieving it.
Reek's tremors worsened and his eyes clenched as another orgasm ripped through him.
"P-Promise …" he managed to stutter.
She felt a trickle of his urine spill uncontrollably over her fingers and knew she was on the verge of overstimulating his body past the brink. And she didn't want to break him. She never wanted to break his mind … his body … ever again.
What she'd retrieved from him had to be enough.
The instant she felt him leak, she retracted her fingers. Left his stub to pulse and throb until it was back under control. Until he could think properly again, without the haze of orgasm and pleasure clouding his psyche.
He visibly relaxed and laid over her, tremoring and twitching from the stress of too much stimulation. Reek was still breakable. And she had to remember that.
She had to always remember that.
She tilted her chin down and kissed him, full on the lips.
"You win, Reek … I'll have his babies … I'll give us a family …" she cooed into his ear.
Reek was still heaving with a great lungful of air every few seconds, as he grappled to control himself again – and she sucked his neck, kissing the skin, lovingly, helping to pull him through.
Reek's arms wound around her and his face nuzzled the side of her head.
Suddenly, the feel of the bed dipping startled the both of them. And Sansa realized it was Little Robb clambering up onto their mattress.
'Where the hell had he come from?' she wondered to herself.
"Am I gonna have a little brother or sister?" Robb nudged himself against Sansa's arm, not at all perturbed about the pair of them mostly naked and pressed against each other.
Reek's face turned beet red and she could see shame reflected at her, once he realized that Robb must have been spying on their wanton intimacy …
When Robb pushed into her side, Sansa felt the slight nudge of his boyhood, but what shocked her was the erection he sported. She'd laid with her son more times than could be counted, but she'd never felt his boyhood stiff before and she didn't know what was more horrific: The idea that he'd been watching them, or that he'd been excited whilst watching them.
Ramsay used to brag about his sexual awakening at a young age. He used to climb on top of her and whisper about how he'd touch himself and watch the castle servants fuck behind closed doors. How he'd imagine torturing them and fucking them until they bled.
Sansa's stomach turned.
"Robb! What did I tell you about spying?! Huh?" Sansa lashed out at him, with fire in her eyes.
Robb startled and peeked back at her with a guilty expression on his face. For a brief instant – for a flicker – she'd seen Ramsay in his eyes. In the little smile when he'd pressed close and asked about potential siblings.
And it haunted her. Because she couldn't see into his mind. She didn't know what he was thinking … why he was spying. Was it, curiosity? Natural … boyhood curiosity? Or was it something else altogether? Was something wrong with him? Most children couldn't bear to watch their parents so much as kiss, but Robb encouraged it. Seemed to bask in the sight.
"I-I just w-wanted to see …" Robb gave her a bruised look that ordinarily filled her with sympathy, but this time … it only sought to unnerve her further.
"Why Robb?! Why do you want to see what we do, in private? Why do you want to watch, huh? Tell me! Right now!"
it wasn't like her to yell at him for his childhood curiosities, whatever they may be. But that was before she knew her son was aroused by it.
Reek had sat up by this point and so had she. Little Robb had inched away from her a bit, but she could still see him. All of him. And he was still rock solid between his thighs. Tears began to well in the rims of his eyes, when her voice rose.
"I'm s-sorry, Mama … I'm s-sorry …" He wiped his eyes and started to sob and she felt her skin prickle with unease.
"Sansa … it's okay, I'm not mad at him …" Reek massaged her spine and grazed her shoulder, giving it a squeeze.
"Our son is erect, Reek! He's getting off on watching people!" She brushed Reek's hand off her shoulder and rounded again on a still sobbing Robb.
Reek's eyes widened as he seemed to recognize the erection their son was still sporting and his eyes went glassy. She didn't have time to check and make sure he hadn't just disassociated.
She was determined to get Robb to answer her.
One way or the other.
She cupped his cheeks and forced him to look her in the eyes, "Tell me the truth. I'm your mother and I'll know if you're lying," she spoke evenly. She no longer wanted to scare him, she simply wanted him to answer. But she could see fear pass behind those little eyes, either way. As though he was afraid to lie to her.
She remembered interrogating the men that tortured her husband. She remembered how she'd reveled in it. But she wouldn't do that now. This was still her son.
But he was Ramsay's, too – By blood. And if he was on course to becoming his father she needed to know – now.
Robb sniffled, but looked her in the eyes. All joy had gone from the center of them. She could see a deep sadness in her son. A layer of him that he kept to himself. Something smart … something cunning … she pushed those thoughts away.
"Why do you like to spy on people? What do you think about?"
She knew if Ramsey was capable of cruel and disturbing thoughts at a young age, so then, was Robb.
Robb trembled in her hold, his shoulders slouched, his arms went limp and she could see the erection softening against his thigh. She didn't know whether to be relieved that he didn't enjoy her forcefulness, or uneasy, but either way, if it was pleasure, he found while spying on them, it was entirely gone now.
"I'm s-s-sorry …" he sniffled out and tried to turn his face away. He closed his eyes and Robb's tears caught on her fingers.
"That isn't an answer. Answer me. You will not leave until you tell me the truth!" she snapped and Robb flinched. "Do you touch yourself? Do you touch your private part when you spy on couples?" she asked, outright.
Robb reopened his eyes and looked at her somberly. "It feels tingly when I watch … a-achy …" he confessed and she could see there was shame behind his eyes. Shame placed there by her. And he continued in a low, tremoring voice, "I d-did touch … a f-few t-times … I just wanted to feel g-good … it made me f-feel good … I'm s-sorry, M-Mama …"
Her heart stung as she saw bits of sincerity in his blue eyes. But there was still something he was hiding. Something underneath all the rest. And she didn't soften, couldn't soften yet.
"What do you think about when you touch?" she asked, very carefully.
Robb tried to turn his eyes down, but she kept his cheeks firmly gripped between her hands. She wouldn't allow him to look away. And he went limp, allowing his head to tilt back against the headboard, his darkened eyes pairing with hers.
"I t-think about y-you, Mama …" Chills traveled up her spine, but she didn't acknowledge it – couldn't acknowledge what he was saying.
She had never seen such anguish in his eyes before. There was distress and a flicker of betrayal in them. She was betraying her son, betraying the trust between them with her questions. She had promised she trusted him not to become like Ramsay. But she didn't. She would always fear Ramsay's imparted traits, in him. It took until now for her to realize just how deeply seeded that fear ran.
"I think about y-you … t-touching me … and h-how much I l-love you … and P-Papa … and then it j-just starts to a-ache … so I t-touch …"
His voice was hollow, the emotion was gone from his words. And she could see something delicate and fractured reflected back at her in his lightless eyes.
"I've s-seen you l-look at me t-this way b-before, M-Mama …" Robb breathed in a quiet whisper, still without emotion.
She lowered her hands from his cheeks, squaring her shoulders, shocked by his words.
"What do you mean?" she inquired.
Robb reached up to wipe away his snot and tears, leaving streaks of tears across his face, he re-lowered his arm.
"With fear in y-your eyes … d-disgust …" More tears rolled down his cheeks. And Sansa's eyes widened.
"What?" Her frame quivered.
"I-It's okay, Mama … it's how e-everyone l-looks at me, when they t-think I w-won't notice …" he heaved out.
"They w-whisper that c-children of b-bastards shouldn't be s-so happy … and that R-Ramsay was a b-bastard …" Robb blinked and two more tears rolled down his cheeks, collecting at his chin. "So, I … I h-hid that I t-touch, M-Mama … I hid t-that I feel so g-good when I t-think of y-you … when I … w-when I love you …" he squeezed one of his hands into a fist, turning the skin white.
"I hid and I w-watched and I … I tried s-so hard to be g-good … your g-good son … not too h-happy … not too w-wrong …" he sniffled and choked on a sob.
Sansa was too horrified to speak. She didn't know what to say … How to fix this …
Robb gave a sideward glance at Reek. Sansa could see that Reek was listening too. Even through his glassy-eyed expression, he was still there. Still present. Just couldn't react. He was too stunned.
"A-And then Papa said he l-loved me … and t-that he looks into my e-eyes and s-sees me for m-me and the g-good that I h-have but I'm n-not good, Mama …" he choked out a whole slew of sobs.
Slowly, he returned his broken eyes to her, "I'm n-not good because I do f-feel too h-happy for a b-bastard's son … and R-Ramsay caused so m-much pain … a-and you a-are afraid of m-me, M-Mama … e-even though I just w-want you to l-loveme like I love y-you … and n-not fear m-me … I feel s-so good w-when you t-touch my skin or I d-drink your m-milk …" his voice trailed off and his eyes returned to hollow, distant things.
"Papa said you deserve a b-baby c-created from l-love, Mama … I h-heard him …" Robb's eyes traveled between Sansa and Reek.
Sansa could feel her heart cracking apart at the seams and held her breath. "Is that w-why you want P-Papa's babies? So, y-you will have c-children you don't f-fear? C-Children that a-aren't w-wrong? A-Aren't d-disgusting? L-Like m-me?"
Sansa burst into tears of her own this time. Because she had planned to tell Robb, later. Under different circumstances. She realized now that that was partially why she was so upset when she'd realized he'd been spying on them. She never wanted him to hear the likes of that … that he wasn't good enough.
"Robb … N-No, Baby … No …" She extended her hand to brush his cheek but he flinched away.
Cowered from her, that same heart-wrenching expression on his face – In his eyes.
How could she repair the damage she'd rendered upon him? She didn't even know if all of these damaged pieces could ever be repaired now …
"I s-see how you k-keep looking at m-me, Mama … N-Now that I've t-told y-you … now t-that you know t-that I f-felt g-good … that I t-touch you and f-feel good …" he sniffled, then added, "w-watch you and P-Papa … and d-dare to f-feel good …"
Robb pinched his thigh, and she could see how excruciatingly tight he pinched – rough enough to bruise his precious skin. And she realized it wasn't the only bruise in that area. There were about ten circular bruises on either of his thighs …
Why hadn't she ever noticed before? Why hadn't she looked so closely at her little boy's skin?
She reached out to dislodge his little fingers … to stop him from further harming himself, but the damage was done. And his skin had already started to bruise.
"Robb … Baby …"
She didn't know how to tell him that she loved him. That she would always love him. That he was allowed to be happy – he was allowed to feel good … and happy … that he wasn't wrong – wasn't bad …
"You love Papa … and P-Papa loves y-you … so you m-make each other f-feel good … because t-that's what l-love is … a-and that's how l-love is s-shown … t-touches … k-kisses …" Robb mulled the words over as he spoke them, seemed to be drawing conclusions that were right, but she was the one that failed to teach him the difference between a parent's love and a spouse's love.
"T-That's why you d-don't want me to t-touch … t-that's why you m-made me admit w-what w-wrong I-I've done …" he returned his hand to his thigh and pinched again and she wanted to stop him but knew he'd go right back, "b-because I'm d-disgusting … b-because it felt g-good … d-despite how you d-deny it I'm j-just the disgusting b-bastard's son you n-never wanted … and it m-makes you s-sick that I t-touched you when I f-felt good … that I feel g-good at all …" Robb inched off the bed on wobbly legs and Sansa reached for him, but he jerked away.
"D-Don't worry M-Mama … I w-won't touch a-anymore … and if I s-start to feel g-good … I w-will make it g-go away … and when y-you have the b-babies you w-want … I w-won't touch t-them … t-they will b-be good … t-they will deserve to f-feel h-happy … I w-would only r-ruin them … make them h-hurt … like I make y-you hurt, M-Mama …"
Sansa drew up, off the bed, and let the tattered remnants of her dress fall away. Her eyes stared into Robb's and she felt her stomach churn with regret. She shouldn't have confronted him. Shouldn't have pinned him to the headboard and made him tell her things. Because his mind was different … but it wasn't different like Ramsay's.
Robb tortured himself. He used his own thoughts as reasons to make himself unhappy. And that was the opposite of Ramsay. Ramsay had reveled in his sickest compulsions. He'd found happiness in the most twisted of desires and Little Robb was plagued by shame by even the simplest act of touching himself when he throbbed with arousal.
Hearing his words broke her heart.
Seeing him this way … so broken – so irreparable … it made her want to fix him.
Like she fixed Reek. Like she fixed Theon …
But the difference was that Reek and Theon weren't broken by her.
Not like Robb had been.
She'd stolen Robb's light. She'd filled him with this darkness … this regret. And she didn't know how to draw him back into the light.
"That isn't what I want, Baby …" She knelt down to his level once she was right in front of him.
Robb turned his cheek away, refused to look her in the eye.
"It is, Mama … You d-don't want me …" he sniffled.
Sansa leaned in and planted a tender kiss to the self-inflicted bruises along his thighs. She drank in the sweet scent of his skin, the rosemary and honey from his morning bath. The salty tang from his sweat and the unique scent that was always there … always part of him.
He did look at her then. She saw his inquisitive eyes watch her kiss away the hurt – His self-given punishments.
She finished and leaned in, and gave his neck a tender kiss. Her hands reached up and roamed his skin. Brushed his sides, cheeks, back. Everywhere. Until he was shivering against her.
"Mama … W-What are you d-doing …?" he groaned as she drew him off his feet and carried him back to bed.
She lowered him onto the mattress and laid him delicately between her and Reek.
She looked to Reek, whom had been watching their exchange without comment up until that point. Sansa inclined her head, needing his help to reassure Robb of his self-worth.
He was loved.
He mattered.
And no number of children she gave birth to would ever make her love him less.
"If I have another baby, another child … you will be with me. And you, Sweetheart, will be the first to hold your new sibling," Sansa whispered in the cusp of his ear. And Robb shivered, bodily, against her.
Reek reached out with one of his hands and traced the curve of Robb's spine and Robb trembled from the touch. A low whine escaped and Sansa felt his boyhood stiffen against her hip, and this time she didn't say anything.
"W-Why would you w-want me to t-touch your b-baby?" Robb breathed in a partial whine, as she rubbed circles across his stomach and chest.
"Because you will be its big brother, and that's what big brother's do. They take care of their siblings … love their siblings … Just like my big brother used to do for me. He made me safe and happy. He is the first one that taught me to lay like this … to lay naked like this … and to love …" Sansa explained, tenderly.
Robb's eyes were still troubled, despite the way she'd stirred him up inside with all of the tender, easing touches.
She knew it would take a long time to fix what was now a festering, open-wound in Robb, but she wouldn't give up until she succeeded.
Reek spoke next, surprising them both, "When I was Ramsay's prisoner, he used to tell me I wasn't worthy of anything. I wasn't worthy of soft touches … or a woman's love … I wasn't worthy of even smiling. He used to cut into my skin and make me bleed. He's the reason I can't have babies of my own … but despite everything he took from me … he gave me you, Robb. And just because you are his son … just because you want touches and kisses to feel better … it doesn't make you bad … or wrong. If you want to touch and think of those you love, that makes you normal compared with Ramsay. It makes you good …" Reek explained, gently.
Sansa couldn't have spoken the way Reek was. She never could have whispered into their son's ear and made him understand the way Reek could. Because she'd never known the same kind of mental breakage that those two had.
It took a broken soul, to delve inside and seek out another.
Sansa wasn't so broken as the pair of them.
Reek sighed. "But if you spy on us and climb into our bed while we are together as man and wife, then there will be those that do not understand, Son. It isn't usual for a boy to crave touches and want to watch like you do … it isn't wrong … it just … it isn't done …" Reek delicately continued to explain.
Robb's eyes turned sad again, and Sansa furrowed her brow at him.
"What if I don't care what's done? What if I just want to be with you and Mama?" Robb asked, still with his back to Reek, drawn back into Reek's front.
Reek relinquished a low sigh and Sansa leaned in to kiss Robb's forehead, snuggling close to him.
"Then you can never tell another soul. It has to be another secret and this one … this one you can never tell anyone. They would condemn us. All of us. It's one thing to lay as we do … but another to let you in on our intimacy … our love is meant to be different than the love I have for your Papa …"
Robb seemed to ponder what she was saying, analyzing it and processing it, slowly.
"Why? Why does it have to be different, Mama? When it feels so good …"
Sansa worried her teeth against her bottom lip and brushed his hair from his eyes.
"It just does …" she admitted.
"Will it be different for your new babies? Will they be left out?"
Sansa shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know yet, Sweetheart …" And she didn't. She didn't know if the perversion she'd caused in Robb was just because of these moments pressed together this way, or if it was going to be something that was twisted in every child she'd ever have.
After all, this perversion had been in her brother Robb, too. It lived and breathed in her veins. Not Ramsay's. It wasn't natural … wasn't normal, but they'd done it first … And it now carried over into her son's needs and wants.
She looked over Robb's shoulder to Reek and his expression was unreadable.
"If it isn't normal … then why amI like this, Mama …?" Robb asked her, in a tearful whisper, "Why do I feel like I'll die if you don't touch me?"
"I don't know, Baby …" she cooed into his ear.
Sansa reached out to rub and brush his skin. Massaging his shoulders, dipping up over his neck and across his chest. Causing little whimpers and whines as she went. Robb's skin flushed and body lurched, as he pushed himself into her, seeking friction to the part of him that needed it most. And she closed her eyes and tucked her arm around him, while she met Reek's eyes.
She knew she should push their son away. She shouldn't encourage Robb's vices … not these. But she never wanted to see him talk himself into such a lowly despair-filled pit, again. She never wanted him to believe he was so filthy for natural bodily reactions. For needs she prayed to the Old Gods would fade given time. He'd find a woman to love one day. Right now, he just wanted his mother's love and he believed touches and kisses were the way to attain it. She had to keep telling herself that – convince herself that's all this was – or she'd lose her sanity.
She loathed herself for letting him become this way and not realizing what she'd done to him.
It wasn't as bad as she'd initially suspected, but his compulsions weren't normal, either.
Reek leaned in and kissed her and she returned the kiss, let herself fade into the sensation of her husband's lips. Let herself meld into the kiss and didn't think about the hard-little rod pushed into her belly, nor about the way her son whimpered and shivered with his dry release.
She just kissed Reek, let her mind fall away and brushed her fingers through her son's curls, and prayed that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, for Little Robb.
Because after what she'd just seen of his descent into pieces … he desperately needed that light or they risked losing him, into the ebbing dark.