Chapter 16:

Sansa and Arya Stark fled through the yard and down endless corridors, dangerously close to the hall with the sounds of swords and screams of death following them. They did not whisper a single word to each other; both of them knew these halls and could walk through them in their sleep. Neither of them trusted the fact that the place was empty- Roose Bolton had every man at the feast it seemed, only bothering to install guards outside.

Surely Theon will have guards. He is a Greyjoy, he must have value as a hostage? As they drew closer to the dungeons, Sansa held Arya's hand tighter and tighter until Arya pulled it away. In order to calm her nerves Sansa held Wolfsong in both hands.

"Only use one hand." She heard Arya whisper.

"What?"

"The sword must be part of your arm. You only need one hand for it."

Sansa took a deep breath, tempted for a second to say that it didn't matter, surely. But then she told herself to be quiet, and gently let go with one hand. But of course, Sansa was not accustomed to handling swords. I should have asked Sandor to show me how to use it. If we are going to cut our way to Theon, Arya would probably have better luck on her own.

They had arrived at the dungeons, and discovered to both their amazements, that they were not guarded. Whilst that was surprising, Sansa's heart sank. Theon can't be here. He's worth too much as a prisoner. They pushed open every door and unhooked every latch, but to no success. Theon was nowhere to be seen.

"Perhaps Asha was mistaken?" Arya suggested, "Maybe the Boltons took Theon somewhere else?"

"I think they would want to keep him close…" Sansa murmured, lifting the latch on the final door they could find. As it slowly swung open her heart suddenly leapt. She could hear breathing coming from within. There was almost complete darkness in this pathetic little cell. She reached up and lifted the torch from its hook. She had to squint to make out what was in the centre of the small room, but she could tell it was something large and cross-shaped. The sigil of House Bolton. A man suspended on a cross. And there was definitely a man bound to this large shape. She smelt Theon Greyjoy before she saw his face. It wasn't even possible to describe how awfully he stank. His skin was sunken, almost hanging off his bones and his face was hollow and lifeless. He's not dead, thank the Seven. Asha would abandon this whole thing if we brought back a dead brother.

Closing the door behind them, Sansa and Arya cautiously approached him. The smell worsened with each step. It would appear he hadn't even heard them enter.

"Theon?" Sansa asked quietly. The shell of Theon Greyjoy shuddered, and then he spoke in a cracked, terrified voice void of hope:

"My name is Reek."

"Reek?" Arya said.

"It rhymes with freak. You have to remember your name."

Seven save him. He's mad. Sansa stepped closer, holding the torch as close as she could without the flame burning him. The light did no favours to his face. His eyes were two lifeless shapes on his face without any colour, and his hair was stuck to his head in a gruesome substance that was nothing like she had ever smelt. Both the girls could tell by his harrowing thinness that he wouldn't be able to walk unaided. An unpleasant task that Sansa didn't want to think about quite yet.

"I'm Sansa. Do you remember me?"

There was a flicker in those eyes that had once been full of life and arrogance.

"Reek doesn't know anyone called Sansa. He did, once."

"You did. And your name's not Reek. You're Theon of house Greyjoy, our father Eddard Stark raised you with Robb and Jon, our brothers. I'm Sansa, and this is Arya. You remember us, don't you?"

Theon raised his head. His neck made an awful snapping sound, as if his body was a rusting old device that had been cranked back to life after years of rotting.

"You remember your name…" His voice was barely more than a choked whisper. Arya stood on her toes to tell him:

"We'll get you a drink once we get you back to your sister."

There was something more in his eyes now. It was recognition. "Asha Greyjoy. She's come all the way here to save you and take you home."

"Sister?"

"Yes. Your sister, Asha Greyjoy. She's waiting for you. You are coming with us."

Arya had begun sawing through his bonds with Needle. Sansa grimaced as she drew nearer, ready to catch him should he fall. When Theon's ankles were free he began to slowly wriggle them. When his hands were free he brought them to his face and began to sob. Sansa could remember him back when Father was alive, if she tried. He had always been by Robb's side, boasting of whatever girl he had bedded recently. Now he was a ruin of a person. Both she and Arya were astonished to see he could stand by himself. He put his hand on Arya's shoulder as he struggled to walk. Sansa poked her head timidly around the door to make sure no one had appeared. They were still safe.

Can the same be said for Sandor and Brienne? The screams they had heard could have come from anyone. As Theon came up next to her, swallowing every deep breath that he had, Sansa thought of Sandor's last kiss on her lips.

"Arya, take Theon back to his sister. Send in her men. I'm going to look for Sandor and Brienne."