Yara Greyjoy arrived at Winterfell one morning. Anera watched her ride through the gate with a group of men at her back. Yara circled Theon on the back of her horse a few times before she rode on past him without a word. Anera watched Theon's smile fall. She couldn't stop herself from making her way over to him, taking his arm. He froze at the touch, then, slowly, relaxed.
He allowed her to join him as he stepped into the dining hall to see Yara and her men eating. "Why it's the Prince of Winterfell," Yara said, which earned the laughter of her men. Her eyes fell on Anera and she added, "who's this pretty thing?"
"Envy isn't attractive," Theon said.
"Envy?" Yara asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You should be proud of your brother's achievement. I took the great castle of Winterfell with twenty men."
Yara rolled her eyes. "You're a great warrior," she said. "I saw the bodies above your gates. Which one gave you the tougher fight, the cripple or the six-year-old?"
Her men broke into laughter and Anera closed her eyes. Brandon and Rickon may have been alive, but there were still two boys dead. Theon was growing angry. "I treated the Stark boys with honor," he stated as he moved to look Yara in the eyes, "and they repaid me with treachery."
"You treated them with honor?" Yara demanded. "By butchering them?"
"Before I had to kill them I treated them- -" he began.
"You seized their home, as is your right. We're ironborn, we take what we need."
"Exactly."
"Then you made them prisoners in their home and they ran away. Is that treachery? I'd call it bravery."
"They made me a promise," Theon stated.
"Your little boy prisoners made you a promise and you got mad when they broke it?" she asked. "Are you the dumbest cunt alive?"
"Don't call me a- -"
"A cunt? A dumb cunt who killed the only two Starks in Winterfell? You know how valuable those boys were."
"If I didn't kill them, the Northerners would think me weak," Theon said.
"You are weak," Yara replied. "And you're stupid."
"I'm warning you."
She looked up at him, eyebrows raised. "Go on, then," she stated. "Warn me."
Her man lowered their cups to look at Theon, who stood stiff, unmoving. He breathed out a sigh, looking at the men. "You haven't brought enough men," he said finally. "How am I supposed to defend Winterfell with just this lot?"
"You're not," Yara said. "I've come to bring you home. Father wants a word."
"Is this a joke? Winterfell is the heart of the North."
"Aye, it is. Hundreds of miles from the sea. We're islanders, baby brother, or have you forgotten that? Our power comes from our ships. And now that you've decorated your walls with the bodies of the Stark boys, every man in the North wants to see you hanged. When Robb Stark finds out- -"
"He won't find out," Theon interjected. "We've killed all the ravens. We have all the horses. I've taken Winterfell. And I will keep Winterfell."
Yara shook her head. "Leave us," she said to her men, and then she looked at Anera. "You, too, beautiful."
Anera hesitated a moment, looking at Theon. He gave a nod which she returned before she joined the crowd of men leaving the room.
Anera had begun spending her nights in Theon's room. And much of her day. Wandering the courtyard no longer held any enjoyment for her. The bodies that loomed overhead were too terrible for her to look at. It was not Brandon and Rickon, only two farm boys, but it still pained her to see their small bodies, burned and blackened and strung up for everyone to see. She should have hated Theon for it, but she didn't, strangely, and that was terrifying for her. She had promised herself that she would kill him, but every night she spent in his bed, that thought would fade just a bit more. She couldn't help but to think that maybe, maybe, her hatred for Thoen Greyjoy was becoming something else.
Men surrounded Winterfell one morning. At the ramparts, one of them blew a horn as loud as he could. The sound seemed to bounce off the very walls. Anera thought she was going to go mad hearing the sound all day with no quiet. She sat perched on the arm of Theon's chair in front of a warm fire. The firelight cast the room in faint orange and red, making her black hair shine a deep burgundy color. "I will kill that man," Theon stated as the horn blew again outside. "I don't care how many arrows they feather me with, how many spears they run through me, I will kill that horn-blowing cunt before I fall."
From the doorway, Maester Luwin answered, "they want you to know you're surrounded."
"I know I'm surrounded," Theon said. "I know that because I stood on the battlements and saw I was surrounded."
"They don't want you to sleep," Maester Luwin said. "They want to sap your spirit before- -"
"Thank you, wise bald man. Thank you for explaining siege tactics to me."
Anera sighed as the horn let out three long blasts. "No word from my father?" Theon asked.
"No," Maester Luwin replied, and he stepped further into the room.
"Send more ravens," Theon instructed.
"You killed all the ravens."
Theon shook his head, lowering his eyes to the floor. "The first time I saw Winterfell..." he was cut off by the sound of the horn starting up again. "The first time I saw Winterfell, it looked like something that had been here for thousands of years and would be here for thousands of years after I was dead. I saw it and I thought, 'of course Ned Stark crushed our rebellion and killed my brothers. We never stood a chance against a man who lives here.'"
"Lord Stark went out of his way to make it your home," Maester Luwin stated.
"Yes, my captors were so very kind to me," Theon snapped. "You love reminding me of that. Everyone in this frozen pile of shit has always loved reminding me of that. You know what it's like to be told how lucky you are to be someone's prisoner? To be told how much you owe them?"
Maester Luwin said nothing. Tears were beginning to form in Theon's eyes as he continued. "And then to go back home to your real father..." the horn blew once again, and suddenly Theon was on his feet, nearly knocking Anera to the floor.
"I will kill that man!" he cried out the window. "I swear it to the Drowned God, the Old Gods, the New Gods, to every fucking god in every fucking heaven, I will kill that man!"
"Theon, listen to me," Maester Luwin said. "I serve Winterfell. Now Winterfell is yours. I'm bound by oath to serve you."
"And what's your counsel, trusted friend?" Theon asked.
"Run," Maester Luwin said. "Five hundred Northmen wait outside the walls. You have twenty men. You can't win. Wait for nightfall and run."
"There's nowhere to run," Theon replied. "I'd never make it back to the Iron Islands. And even if I did, even if by some miracle I slipped through the lines and made it home, I'd be a coward. The Greyjoy who ran. The shame of the family."
He sat back down in his chair, letting Anera squeeze his arm reassuringly. "Don't go home," Maester Luwin said after a moment, moving to take Theon's shoulder. "Join the Night's Watch. Once a man has taken the black, he's beyond reach of the law. All his past crimes are forgiven."
"I won't make it to the Wall," Theon said. "I won't make it ten feet past the Winterfell gates."
"There are ways. Hidden passageways built so the lords of Winterfell could escape. The road will be dangerous. But with a little luck..." he moved to meet Theon's gaze fully. "The Night's Watch is an ancient, honorable order. You'll have opportunities there."
Theon surged to his feet. "The opportunity for Jon Snow to cut my throat in my sleep," he spat.
"The opportunity for you to make amends for what you've done," Maester Luwin corrected and Theon looked out the window into the darkness.
"I've done a lot, haven't I?" Theon asked. "Things I never imagined myself doing."
Maester Luwin shook his head. "I've known you many years, Theon Greyjoy. You're not the man you're pretending to be."
He took Theon by the shoulder once more. "Not yet," he said.
Theon nodded weakly. "You may be right," he agreed. "But I've gone too far to pretend to be anything else."
The horn cut through the silence in the room, and Anera closed her eyes. It was going to be a long night.