The moment that Theon laid eyes on the prince he realised exactly why he hated the spoiled little bastard and why he didn't want him anywhere near Sansa. It was a violent dislike and it wasn't helped by the fact that he was sickening powerfully jealous of her royal swain – and worse, he could confide in no one else about it, not even Robb his best friend.
Joffrey didn't trouble to lower his voice not caring how offensive his tone got. Now he was trying to be needlessly provocative, spoiling for a fight and knowing that Theon could do nothing about it. His royal blood gave him immunity to say what he pleased.
"Greyjoy, isn't it? He intoned, looking down his nose at him with a supercilious look remarkably like his mother the Queen.
"That's what I have the honour of being called." he replied with a mocking little bow. "-your Grace."
The blonde frowned as if he sensed he was being thoroughly mocked.
I don't know about honour-" Joffrey sneered, keen to sharpen the talons of his wits on someone new. "Your father was a rebel with ideas above his station."
"So everyone keeps saying. Thank the gods I have all you people to remind me just how wrong my father was."
"What was all that about?" Robb's brow furrowed in confusion. He was evidently surprised by the viciousness of Joffrey's verbal attacks but Theon wasn't. He knew the prince disliked him - and the feeling was mutual- but did he know enough to be his rival?
"No idea-" Theon said balndly, though he was furious inside.
"Ignore him Theon, he's nothing but a bully. He was being insulting to Jon earlier." his clear blue eyes so like his sister's and his mother's narrowed in the prince's direction. Evidently his friend's opinion of the prince was just as dire as his. "To be honest with you, I will be glad when the royal party leave and darken our doors no more. I suspect Father and Mother privately feel the same."
Obviously pleased by the way he'd gotten away with insulting Theon and sensing a new and rewarding target for his spite Joffrey stepped up his campaign. Theon soon learned to inwardly dread the appearance of the spoilt brat and his red and gold guards, even though he was not shy in retaliating with quips.
"It's about time you learned your place," Joffrey said not caring how loud and offensive his voice was. "Lord Stark should have kept you in the dungeons, fed you on bread and water."
Theon kept silent, wishing a painful and prolonged death on the prince. It was most satisfying to think up creative ways to inflict pain on Joffrey. Give him the sweating sickness, give him the stone!
He imagined playing a most vicious game of the Finger Game, making sure he injured the brat every time.
"Nothing but a peasant, a rebel and a traitor. No wonder your people steal from their betters, you'd all starve on those rocks of yours, wouldn't you?" He laughed at his own jape, smirking at his witticism.
Theon just stared insolently at the prince wishing an ignominious and miserable end on the little bastard.
"Those dirty little scuts in their rags and patches." Joffrey said to his guard with the horrific scar on his face, who just took in his hateful words with an impassive face.
"You know what I think? You're all backwards heathen animals worshipping some stupid Drowned God...What do you do, stand at the seashore with your arms raised wailing: 'Squid, oh mighty squid bless us with salt and iron'!"
Theon was in no way religious but he would gladly have struck him for heresy. How dare he insult everything about him and he get away with it because he is the Prince and we must all genuflect in front of him and his family they aren't any better than any of us. There's nothing special about them.
The only thing that made him feel in the slightest bit better was the fact that it was him who Sansa loved and had feelings for, not this spoilt brat! And no he didn't feel the slightest bit of guilt in dallying with her. Not any more when she would be better off without that spoilt little bully.
May the best man win, Joffrey Theon told himself, his mood considerably lightened. It certainly won't be you!
Theon rounded the corner of the stable and started to work on his saddle, cleaning and oiling the worn leather. He found the rhythmic movements oddly soothing, enabling him to think about things and turn them over in his head.
He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts and his work it was a while before he noticed he was not alone, as a figure came out of the shadows.
"Are we alone?" said a familiar feminine voice right behind him.
He must have a death-wish. Of all the girls to end up entangled in a fraught secret relationship he only had to go and pick Sansa Stark. The treasure of the North. The apple of Lord Eddard's eye. The girl the whole family all had high hopes for. And here they were skulking round in an empty stable clinging to shadows to hide their embraces.
"Sansa!"
She flew into his arms, pressing her mouth to his. Theon kissed her sweet mouth, the taste of forbidden fruit proving irresistible. She wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him close and looking adoringly into his eyes with a gentle smile on her lips he wanted to taste. He couldn't help himself, he was like a horny squire round her. He couldn't believe his luck she seemed to want him back, gazing at him with adoring eyes.
He smirked, feeing gratified by the strength of her emotions displayed to him. "I take it you're glad to see me then?" he quipped, confident cocky grin in place. She must never know how deeply I care for her.
She punched him on the arm surprisingly hard. "Don't mock me."
Her rebuke made him serious, set him to soothing the delicious little scowl from her face. "I'm not, believe me." He stroked her copper bright hair tangling his fingers in the fiery strands. "I saw you in the yard."
"I know." She breathed, pressing another kiss to his thumb, which was still caressing her lips. "I had to see you. I fear it wasn't discreet. I'm sorry."
He rubbed his thumb against the softness of her bottom lip, so plump and kissable."Don't be sorry."
"Did you miss me?"
"You know that I did."
She leaned closer, her lips barely brushing his skin. "I want to hear you say it."
When did you learn to become such a temptress? When did I become so unable to resist your allure. I am a fool to want you, and yet I do. I always want what I can't have.
"Yes, I missed you. Happy now?"
She kissed him, a sweet smile on her lips.
"Your Septa will be wondering where you are." He told her, a trace of desperation in his voice. He made no move to get away from her, so she didn't take his protests seriously.
The couple were so wrapped up in each other intoxicated by their kisses, so entranced by one another they failed to notice a golden haired shadow watching them from the door of the stable. Silently he padded away vowing vengeance for this insult.
As Sansa spent more time with the Crown Prince she started to have second third and even fourth thoughts about marrying Joffrey. Much as she tried valiantly to make allowances for his royal birth, if she were completely honest with herself she found she didn't actually like Joffrey all that much.
Every time he was rude to one of her family, or the servants who laboured to serve him, her opinion of him fell even lower.
She decided to talk to her septa. Perhaps she would be able to give her some advice, to smooth out some of the tangled emotions in her head. She didn't want to disappoint anyone, and she knew what was at stake. But she couldn't help wanting Theon even though she knew that her parents would not approve of his suit, if she was honest he was the only man she really wanted to court her.
"Sansa, dear what is it?" Septa Mordane said noticing her hovering by her side once they were alone. Arya had made herself scarce eager to avoid more feminine pursuits and Jeyne was otherwise engaged. She was never going to get another chance to talk seriously to her septa about this.
"Can I talk to you?" she said, fidgeting a little. "-in confidence?"
The septa looked up from her needlework. "Of course you can dear. Come and sit, make yourself comfortable."
"Er...it's about the prince-" Sansa started, taking a seat next to the older woman.
Septa Mordane waxed lyrical about his favourite pupil's good fortune in nagging such a desirable match. "You must be so excited about marrying Joffrey! You've done so well for yourself. I'm very proud of you, my dear."
Normally Sansa would have agreed with her, but her forebodings made her wonder whether she had done the right thing in asking Septa Mordane for her opinion. She is never going to approve of understand my feelings for Theon or my misgivings about Joffrey. No sensible woman would, but I can't ignore my instincts.
"Septa...what if I were-"
The older woman looked up noticing the tone of her voice, her pale face and anxious wringing of hands.
"What is it, dear girl?" she asked in a gentler tone, seeking to reassure her star pupil.
Sansa decided to be bold as Theon would be and take the plunge. "What if I were having second thoughts?" she admitted.
Septa Mordane's face fell. Her mouth gaped in consternation at her favourite pupil's admission. "Second thoughts? What second thoughts?"
Sansa bit her lip, unsure about whether to go on and what reception her confession would have.
"I don't know if I really want to marry him."
"Sansa, what are you talking about? It must be just nerves. Don't you realise how lucky you are? You must be the envy of every high-born maiden in the Seven kingdoms!"
She wanted to confess how horrendous Joffrey was, what exactly he was capable of behind closed doors but she couldn't. Septa Mordane and my mother will never believe me. What if they blame me?
-
She could still remember that awful afternoon he'd cornered her in the stable demanding liberties and refusing to listen to her protests.
"Joffrey? Why did you ask me to meet you here? You know we must be chaperoned. I'll go and get one of my brothers, I'm sure Robb or Jon will be in the yard-"
He blocked her path, barring the way with one forearm. "No, my lady. You'll stay right here."
She demurred, starting to be scared of Joffrey's bizarre behaviour and the feverish glitter in his eyes as he looked her up and down.
"It's not decent Joffrey! I really must leave-" her voice was rising in a panic. I have to get away from him. This was a terrible mistake!
"You're going to be mine anyway, so what does it matter if I have you now or later?" he sneered, pawing at her dress and making her feel like a piece of meat from the kennel. She wished she hadn't let herself be persuaded to be alone with him.
How could she have been such an idiot. I didn't think he would treat me with dishonour.
"Joff, no. Please, we can't." She struggled to get away from him, kicking out at him in a frantic panic but he was surprisingly strong holding her in an iron grip. "I don't want this. Please stop!"
"Stop mewling-" he'd sneered, his breath smelling of alcohol. Sansa wondered where he had got enough of it to get so drunk. "Why else would you come here to see me alone. Without your little friend Jeyne?" his eyes narrowed into a leer. "I should have both of you at once. Mistress and maid...Watch the both of you go at it together."
How dare he! Sansa was inwardly outraged at his lack of respect and the foul things he was saying to her. She'd managed to convince herself that he was keen to woo her and a small part of her girlish heart thrilled at having such a well-born and handsome suitor.
He was no Theon and he didn't make her feel half as desired and happy, but she could try to make the best of it for her family's sake. But seeing what was behind the courtly mask Sansa wanted nothing to do with him any more.
"I thought you just wanted to talk-" she said in a small voice feeling very foolish and unworldly.
Maybe she was the fool to have believed he would treat her honourably. She should never have listened to him. For all Theon's bravado and his dire reputation, he'd always tried to treat her with respect and a measure of gentleness.
She stamped on his foot hard in an attempt to get him to stop but she only managed to anger him even more.
"You little slut!" he hissed, slapping her across the face in a towering rage.
She was terrified at the look of hate in Joffrey's eyes, how he had turned vicious in the blink of an eye. She tried to scrabble away, opening her mouth to cry for help. Sansa hadn't liked him before but she was truly terrified of him now.
No, no, not like this. He wouldn't be as cruel as to dishonour her. No one would ever believe her if she tried to tell the truth.
Theon was heading towards the stables, keen to get away from Winterfell and the suffocating atmosphere of the royal visit. He could tell that he was not wanted here at the moment and the sight of smug Joffrey and King Robert who had blithely ruined all his prospects, when he'd proposed the match between his son and Sansa annoyed and irritated him beyond measure.
He thought he heard signs of a struggle in one of the far stalls, a muffled voice and scuffling. He moved forward, employing as much stealth as he could. Was that a female voice in distress he heard?
Wait a second, he would swear that was Joffrey the smug little bastard. He'd know that grating tone anywhere. What the devil was going on?
Keen to get some ammunition to pin on the aggravating prince and further his own cause he moved to the crack in the door, peering in. What he saw made him so furious, his hand went to his dagger unbidden.
I'm going to kill him, slowly with my bare hands. I won't even need a weapon. How dare Joffrey lay rough hands on Sansa, his Sansa. A flare of possessiveness ripped through him.
Aren't you in deep? He told himself. She's not yours, you know that she can never be yours now that Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn have spoken, she's promised to this venal little brat.
Even as he told himself that, he knew deep down that it was not true. She is as much mine as I am hers, we were made for each other. He does not deserve to touch the hem of her garment!
"No, no Joffrey leave me alone!" she pleaded, scrabbling away from him.
The prince smirked and ripped her dress open leering at her exposed pale flesh. She struggled to cover her self but he was pulling her folded arms away, grinning at her distress.
"That's it, let's see what I'm getting, shall we?" he sneered.
That was it! Theon waded in, casting all caution to the winds. He was so angry, a haze of red descending across his vision that there was no telling what he might do.
He pulled the prince off her, shoving him against the wall of the stable.
Joffrey cannoned into the wall, squawking in outrage.
She let out a squeak of distress at being discovered in such a compromising situation, but Theon was too preoccupied with his revenge for the moment. He punched Joffrey in the face, feeling satisfaction as he felt the impact of fist on the bones of his rival's face.
"You blacked my eye! You've broken my nose, you bastard!" squealed Joffrey clutching his face in pain.
Sansa huddled in the corner desperately trying to pull the torn edges of her dress together.
"You keep away from her!" He found himself shouting at Joffrey, pulling him up by his furred collar, and shaking him like a rat. "What the hell are you playing at?"
Joffrey grinned through bloodied lips. "She's my wife-to be, Greyjoy. What's it to you what we do?"
Theon shoved him to the ground and kicked Joffrey viciously in the stomach. The prince groaned, writhing on the floor in pain.
Frankly he had no pity for the bastard. Every time he thought of what Joffrey had been planning to do to Sansa, that red haze of anger descended again. I'll tear the little fucker apart...
"You go near her again, and you'll get worse, I promise you, you little shit." he snarled. He turned to her. "Sansa sweetling, are you hurt?"
She stifled her sobs, shaking her head. "N-no Theon-"
Joffrey smirked, keen to get one last dig at his rival in. "I see how it is...you're jealous, Greyjoy! Is that it? You seethe with jealousy because you wish you could have had a go on her as well."
"What?" Theon looked at him appalled at his crassness.
Joffrey grinned, aiming to provoke Theon once more to violence. "You heard me. Tell you what, turn a blind eye and I might let you have a go on her once I'm done. I can't say fairer than that?"
Theon picked him up and pinned him against the wall. "I don't ever want to hear you say anything like that again. Don't think your royal blood is going to protect you."
"I'll get you for this. You wait until my father hears of this. You laying hands on a prince. They'll string you up for this, you peasant." Joffrey hissed.
Theon mocked him to his face, glad that for once the boot was on the other foot. Gods, it was satisfying seeing the prince squirm! "They'll have to catch me first, my lord and prove it." he dropped him like a sack of meal.
Joffrey landed heavily on his arse, narrowly missing some dung.
"Now crawl away from here before I change my mind, and if I hear you say a word about this, one word sliding out of that lying mouth of yours-" Theon let the threat speak for himself.
Joffrey gulped cravenly and started to crawl away from the scene.
"That's it. You crawl away, you little worm-" Theon snarled still angered by Joffrey and his exploits.
"Theon! You-" She stammered. "You're here. You came for me."
Gods, he'd saved her. She had never seen him in such a rage. It was terrifying yet secretly exhilarating.
He looked worried and yet a bit cross with her. "You never wander off alone with a man. Didn't your septa teach you that?" he shook her a little in exasperation.
"I thought he'd have his bodyguard with him. I didn't realise he'd give them the slip and get me alone. I really didn't. I tried to get away." She bit back another sob, trying to calm down a bit.
"You should have a care my lady. Not all men are as honourable as your father." She noticed that he didn't mention himself as honourable. "Anything could have happened to you!"
She realised that fear was at the root of his scolding. He'd been terrified for her, seeing her in that awful situation. Now that the adrenaline of combat had worn off, the implications of what happened had started to sink in for him.
"Please just take me home-" she said in a small voice feeling like she was about to collapse with the strain of the afternoon's events.
Theon opened his mouth as if he were about to say something else but he spotted the distress she was in.
Sansa was shaking like a blade of grass in a high gale. She looked pale and fragile. A strong urge to protect her came over him. I won't let any man hurt her, even the crown Prince himself. There was going to be trouble, no doubt, the moment Joffrey squealed to his parents and Lord and Lady Stark that he'd beaten him.
"You're shivering, love. Here." He slipped off his cloak and fastened it round her. "That should keep you warm until we get back to the castle."
Joffrey
Joffrey had been unable to hide his injuries from Lord Ned and the rest of his party. Of course he hadn't wanted to admit exactly how he had earned those bruises. It was just his bad luck that his Uncle Renly spotted his injuries and would not shut up about them. The stupid dandy enjoyed making him look a fool and needling him so subtly that others didn't notice. But Joffrey did and he hated his young glamorous uncle so handsome and admired by the ladies.
"What happened to you, Joffrey. You look like you've been in the wars?"
"What happened, lad. Did ye get in a fight?" the two royal brothers laughed their heads off highly amused by the thought.
Once he drawn attention to him and directed the gaze of Lord Eddard to him, he'd been forced to lie through his teeth, not wanting anyone to find out exactly what he had been doing in the stables.
Queen Cersei made a fuss the moment she saw his bruises. "Joffrey, what happened?"
He could see the amused slightly malevolent glance of the Greyjoy lad watching him with an intent eye. He stumbled over his words conscious of the threat that lay within.
"I tripped and fell down some stairs-" he said with some reluctance.
"Where?" Cersei and Lady Catelyn looked alarmed.
"-on the East tower." he said hastily hoping he wouldn't be pressed for details.
"You might have been seriously hurt. Shall I summon Maester Luwin to heal your wounds? He is a marvel with herbs and bruises-"
"No, I don't want a fuss." he snapped at Lady Catelyn who looked worried. And so she should do! It was her responsibility. If she had kept Greyjoy on bread and water, clapped in irons none of this would have ever happened!
Joffrey had gone to his chamber to nurse his wounds, when he found his mother already in the room.
"Mother, you startled me."
She sat on his bed, unconcerned by his alarm. "We need to talk Joffrey. Shut the door please-" he knew that uncompromising tone when he heard. He was going to get no peace until he admitted the truth.
"Do you not think I know a lie when I hear one? What really happened?" her little silk clad foot tapped on the stone flooring. "I'm waiting, Joffrey."
Joffrey pouted, remembering his humiliation as Theon had punched him, leaping to the defence of the girl. Their secret kisses in the stables when they thought they were alone. All his jealousy and hatred came spilling out.
"It's the Greyjoy boy."
"Him? What did he do?"
Her question infuriated him. "Didn't you see him dancing the Tarantelle at the welcoming dinner and making a spectacle of himself? How he stared at her after my father announced the match like a love-struck pup?"
"He obviously has a crush on her. Ridiculous since he hasn't a hope."
"She returns his affections-" he said bluntly.
"Are you sure?" she asked him shrewdly.
"I saw them in the stable kissing. He's mad for her, and she's all conflicted about her duty. But she certainly was not fighting him off."
Her eyes gleamed with malicious delight. The opportunity to get one over on these sanctimonious Starks was too good to miss and as for it being their pretty little Lady Sansa that they were so inordinately proud of...well it was better and better!
"So who gave you the bruises?"
"He did."
She was so astounded she stared at him in disbelief. "He did? He struck you?"
"I was in the stables taking the opportunity to chastise my lady-love when he barged in crazed as a wilding and punched me in the face. He shoved me to the floor and kicked me in the stomach. Look, I still have the bruises to prove it-" he lifted the hem of his rich tunic displaying a contusion which was turning an impressive mix of yellow blue and purple.
"It was an unprovoked attack?" Cersei said with undisguised eagerness. "We could have his head for this!"
Joffrey had the grace to look shifty. "Well, not completely unprovoked..."
"If she's giving her kisses to Greyjoy why should I not have a taste?"
"So why did you lie when Renly drew attention to it? That I don't understand?" she asked. 2Theon cold have earned a flogging at least?"
"Think mother-" Joffrey said with impatience. "I need irrefutable proof. They'll get careless and when they do..."
"We'll be there."
"But will you still want her after she'd shamed herself with the Ironborn boy."
Joffrey gave her a scornful smirk, enjoying his plan. "Of course I will! She is beautiful and if I don't have her as a wife, she'll make a perfectly acceptable mistress, will she not?"
Cersei smiled at her favorite son. "I like the way you think. But let's keep it to ourselves, shall we?"
He hadn't dared to say a word. What business did he have looking at a girl like her? None at all. He was here only on the sufferance of Ned Stark and his brand of mercy.
"What did he do to you?"
He slipped off his cloak and wrapped it round her. She gave him a grateful look. "He kept ranting and raving. Talking about how I was going to be his anyway. How can he have so little respect for me? How can I marry someone like that?"
"He's a prince."
She looked right at him. "So are you-" she said, in a small voice.
That wasn't quite the same thing. There was a world of difference between them.
Joffrey's father wasn't a failed rebel, ruler of a heap of barely fertile rocks in the harsh inhospitable ocean. He ruled the Seven Kingdoms instead. He couldn't offer a tenth of what Joffrey could, so why was she saying that and looking at him like he was her only hope of redemption?
Thank you-" she said.
"What for?"
"Thank you for saving me."
Theon tried and failed not to show how thrilled he was by her heartfelt simple thanks. "If he ever bothers you again go to one of your brothers. Robb would have had Joffrey's head for this!"
She looked at him appalled by what he'd just said. "I-I can't"
"Why not?"
"If I tell my brothers or my father what Joffrey's done wha1t he's capable of, they'll kick up a fuss."
"Maybe that's what's needed." If they knew the truth they wouldn't make Joffrey marry you, he wanted to say so badly but he held his tongue.
"No, you don't understand!" she looked at him with big distressed eyes. "If they realise what Joffrey did then they'd be forced to challenge him. There'd a be a huge scandal- and I would be ruined. Please Theon, I trust you to keep this between ourselves."
"There you go, trusting me again. You shouldn't, you know." he told her gruffly. He was warning her for her own good, but she had already made up her mind about him. She believed in him much more than he believed in himself and somehow that made him want to be a better man and earn her love.
"Why do you always say that?" she asked him.
"Because 'tis truth?"
She shook her head.
"You're too trusting Sansa."
Her eyes gleamed and she pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. "Or perhaps I see you as you really are." she whispered softly in his ear.
Sansa
Theon's annoyance bothered her like a stone in her boot. Why was he so vexed with her? She hadn't meant to get trapped with Joffrey, that he would play such a trick on her.
But afterwards when he realised how upset I was, how kind he was. He gave me his cloak. He defended me.
True, he hadn't done it in a chivalrous fashion punching Joffrey in the face and kicking him in the stomach, but he'd certainly been effective.
I wish that I could marry him, that he could give me his cloak for real... to be his, Sansa Greyjoy, not Baratheon - never Joffrey's bride.
I need to be with him. I don't know if I can give him up and live without him.
How can I persuade him this is what I need?
"You wanted for nothing all your life. I have nothing except what your father deigns to give me. How can I marry you?" Theon asked as they met secretly in the godwood once more. "- not that I wouldn't...you know I would, in a heartbeat but...gods, I wish it wasn't so damned hard. Your father and mother will have none of me. You mother warned me off most fiercely."
"Why?" Sansa asked.
His mouth turned up in a cynical curve. "She thinks I am a bad influence on you and Robb. Because of my blood-"
"Do you think I care about that?" she told him. "It's you that I want. It's always been you, from the beginning. Why can't they see that?"
So much for being practical, thought Theon willing himself not to get his hopes up at her words.
"I see now. I was dazzled by Joffrey and his princely good looks. But he doesn't care for me. I'm nothing but an object to him. But everyone expect me to meekly do my duty and marry him. I'm so torn-"
"And what about what you want? About Your happiness?"
"I can't afford to think that way. Not with everyone expecting me to do my duty-"
I might be nothing but a fool and I have little to offer you. But I care. I always have, and I always will. Oh Gods, if only they would let us be-" he told her, holding her close. "-you make me want to be a better man. A man who'd earn the right to be at your side."
She rested her head against the fine wool of his doublet seeking comfort from his arms.
"I'll think of something I promise. What will become of us both, dearheart?-"
She looked up at him. "Dearheart?"
"Aye, for you are dear to my heart you know that."
"You haven't called me that in years..." she smiled.
Catelyn
Catelyn decided that she needed to have a word with her eldest daughter. She was concerned by what Septa Mordane had confided in her that morning. We must nip this in the bud before anything more comes of it. Sansa cannot be allowed to shy at the prospect of an advantageous match. Not when so much is at stake-
Sansa hovered at the door to her solar, looking pale and anxious. "Mother, you asked to see me?"
She smiled trying to set the girl at ease. "Yes, come in dear."
Sansa entered the room and sat opposite her mother, gazing at her with big worried eyes. She licked her lower lip, worrying silently at what she could have done wrong.
"Septa Mordane mentioned that you were worried about your upcoming match with the prince. Is that true?"
"I don't know if I can go through with it. If I can marry Joffrey."
"Why, have you made an arrangement with someone else?"
Sansa blushed, but said nothing.
"I couldn't help but notice you and Theon are still rather close? You do spend quite a bit of time with one another. And there was that Tarantelle at the welcoming dinner- "
She noticed how the girl froze, fidgeting in her seat and biting at her lip. A rather telling sign of guilt, Cat suspected.
"He's a friend. We have done nothing wrong, I promise. Theon has been a gentleman to me."
Cat repressed a snort at the thought of it. "You're not ...fond of him are you?"
By the hectic flush on her face Cat had her suspicions confirmed. So must for it just being ambition as Ned thought. Of course Greyjoy had been courting Sansa on the sly, plying her with sweet words. She had to nip this in the bud before it caused any more problems.
"Apart from the fact he has nothing to offer a girl like you." Cat pointed out. "-he has no business courting, or making love to you. He should get that nonsense out of his head right now!"
"Nothing is going on between Theon and myself." Sansa said stiffly.
"Has he...Cat's voice trailed away delicately. "Has he ever taken liberties with you? Done anything that made you feel uncomfortable? I'm your mother. You can tell me in confidence."
Sansa thought of their kisses, their intimate walks in the Godswood. His arms round her waist, dancing with him and sharing a tantalising taste of the physical intimacy she craved. I wanted him to do everything we'd shared. He didn't force me.
"He's grown up to be a strikingly handsome man. I know the girls sigh over him. Girls like a rogue. But when the night falls and the dawn comes what does he have to offer you?"
"You have a chance of rising very high by marriage. Joffrey and his parents are very keen for you to wed him. Out of all the high-born maidens in the Seven Kingdoms, He wants you."
"But Mother...what if I don't want him?" she admitted.
Her mother looked at her sharply. "Sansa, is there something going on? Is there any reason why you are refusing a prince?"
Sansa didn't know what to say. How could she tell her mother what Joffrey had done? How she felt about Theon when she disapproved of him so severely?
"You've never been one to balk at your duty. Don't you see you wedding to the prince will benefit our family, our region? You will be the queen of seven kingdoms. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
Sansa just looked miserably at her hands, feeling more and more trapped by everyone's expectations.
"I know it's going to be a big change for you. I can understand you being scared of what's ahead and I won't pretend that life at court is going to be easy. But you mustn't stand in your own light. Let's have no more talk of not wanting to be wed." she sighed, knowing the next bit would not be received well, but someone had to say something before it became an issue. "but there is one thing you must do, my girl"
"What is it?"
"Your friendship with Greyjoy has to end soon. It isn't appropriate."
Sansa looked at her with appalled eyes. "Mother!"
"As a future queen you must be beyond reproach, as you are now. There must be no question-"
"I've done nothing wrong and neither has Theon. He-"
"Sansa, be sensible." Cat cajoled her. "You are walking into a metaphorical Lion's den. You will have intrigues and enemies ready to snipe at you. You cannot have a weakness and he will be one of them. Cut him loose while you have time."
"He's a friend-" Sansa cried out. "How can you ask me to turn my back on a friend?"
"Since he is just a friend as you claim, he will understand. Do it soon Sansa, it will hurt less. He'll find another girl to latch onto; he's handsome and has swagger, they all like that. But he'll destroy you if you let him."
Theon
"You want us to run away together?" he asked, when she broached the subject to him. "When you're still promised to Joffrey Baratheon?"
"Yes."
She couldn't be serious. Did she have the slightest idea what she was asking of him? Lord Eddard was a decent honourable man, but if he had the merest inkling of his secret relationship he would have his hide, and Theon knew he would deserve every moment of his punishment.
Robb was his best friend here, the only one who actively enjoyed his company and believed the best in him, no matter how he behaved. And this was how he was going to repay him? Stealing away his beloved sister?
It was selfish and it was wrong, and if he were sensible he would walk away from her. But Gods help him, he was weak and he wanted her. Wanted her so desperately he was considering doing something incredibly rash.
"Has something happened between you and he since? Something I need to know about?"
"He wrote to me again."
Theon's grip on her shoulders tightened on hearing that. He thought he'd made it perfectly clear to the royal brat what would happen if he persisted in bothering Sansa ever again.
"What did he say?"
She flinched at the harshness of his voice. He stroked down the sleek length of her back to soothe her.
"Hush, sweetling, I'm not angry at you." he murmured soothingly. "I just hate the thought of him daring to try it after what he did to you."
"Here, read it." she took the letter from her bodice and handed it to him. "I have no secrets from you."
Theon's lip curled as he read Joffrey's arrogant scrawl.
"I don't know how he dares-" Theon muttered underneath his breath. He crushed the paper in his hands, wishing he had his hands firmly round Joffrey's neck instead. "Arrogant little shite. He still wants to marry you? Despite what he did?"
She nodded. "The king and my father think it a marvellous idea. A link between both our houses, to echo their friendship."
"They're sensible. He would be a good match for you." He observed, reading the crumpled paper with a frown on his face.
"Is that what you believe?" she asked him, her voice rising in her distress. "You want me to meekly go back to Joffrey as if nothing ever happened?"
"You're the one who said you had to be practical. Think of your future."
"Tell me you don't care for me." She said, looking him straight in the eyes as she said it. "Say it, Theon."
This was the moment he should be sensible and let her down gently but he found he couldn't- overwhelmed by the strength in her personality. He was a selfish bastard and gods help him he wanted her too much. "You know that I can't. Sansa, don't do this."
"I don't want him. The only person I want is you-"
Such sincerity in her voice. She was so sure of her love, of them. He wished he could be so sure.
"But where would we go? We can't return back home to the Iron Isles." He hadn't been back there for so long he no longer dreamed of the sound of the waves crashing on the shores, the taste of the salt air on the lips.
Deep down he wasn't sure that his father would welcome them with open arms. Would he be furious with him for breaking the terms of the treaty and taking his enemy's daughter as a bride? Or would he praise him for stealing away Lord Eddard's treasure?
"I don't care. I don't care about where we go as along as I am far from here. Far from Joffrey. With you-" she wound her arms round him, melding her body to his. "I need you Theon, as I have never needed you before. Please-"
He was weak; he was nothing but a fool and he didn't care. How was any red-blooded man meant to resist that?
When she asked him like that, and kissed him so sweetly how could he refuse? He only hoped that they both wouldn't live to regret it.
