"You sent him to Balon Greyjoy?" Catelyn snapped as soon as she had heard the news of Theon being sent to Pyke. She failed to believe what her son had done. She had told him that he could never trust a Greyjoy. They were not renowned for their trustworthy attitude.
Robb sat at his desk, his head in his hands as he thought about what he had agreed to. He knew that his mother would never agree to the conditions which Theon had set out. His help had cost a price, Robb knew that. If Theon truly cared for him then he would have given him aid without any consequence. But Theon cared for Cassandra more than he cared for Robb. The King in the North was well aware of that.
"Theon promised me that he could give me ships," Robb said. "We need the help of the Greyjoys, mother. You know that. They have ships and they fight for the same cause."
"You think that they will fight for your?" Catelyn wondered. "The Greyjoys will fight for themselves. You can never trust a Greyjoy, Robb. Theon will not come to your aid."
"He will," Robb said.
"Why?" Catelyn wondered. "What does he have to gain from it? What does Balon Greyjoy have to gain from joining the North?"
"Theon will see to it that it happens," Robb promised. He stood up from the desk and turned to face his mother, his arms folded in front of him. "Theon would never betray me. He would never do it because he knew that he would be betraying Cassandra too."
"Your sister has nothing to do with this," Catelyn replied, her head shaking back and forth with haste. She couldn't believe what her son had done. Robb was a good boy. He was brave, but often foolish. He had proved that.
"You know as well as I that Cassandra has everything to do with this, even though she is not here," Robb replied and Catelyn held her tongue. She knew what her son was speaking of. Cassandra had been holed up in Winterfell but she had suffered from this war as much as anyone. Her husband was proof of that.
"Have you heard from her?" Catelyn wondered. "Or Bran and Rickon?"
"No," Robb said lowly, his eyes glancing to the ground. "I write to her. She never replies."
"I have not heard anything of her, apart from what Maester Luwin sends me word of," Catelyn admitted, sinking down on her son's bed. "He tells me that she spends every moment she can with Bran and Rickon. She tries to avoid Lord Stevron."
"Can you blame her?" Robb asked. "She's been forced to marry him for a bridge. She was alone when he claimed her as his own."
"Bran and Rickon-"
"-They are children," Robb said back to his mother. "Cassandra is...she is my younger sister. She married a sixty year old man."
"Cassandra knew what she had to do," Catelyn replied. "I wish I was there, Robb. I wish I could have held her hand through it all. I would have held her to me, Robb. She is my little girl...even after all these years."
"Perhaps you should go to her," Robb suggested to his mother. "Cassandra needs you. She needs someone to be there for her."
"No," Catelyn replied. "As much as it pains me to say no...I cannot go to her. You need me here. I need to be here."
"Fine," Robb said. "I shall write to her and tell her of Theon leaving for Pyke."
"She does not-"
"-She does need to know," Robb contradicted his mother. "It matters not that she is married. She has a right to know what is happening to him. You know how much she cares for him, mother. You know that we cannot change the way she feels for him."
Catelyn shook her head, her chin resting in her hand as she remained sat where she was, Robb sitting beside her after a moment.
"Cassandra." Catelyn whispered. "My daughter...married...soon she will be with a child."
"Child," Robb whispered, his eyes widening. He hadn't thought about that. He had never thought about Cassandra with a child. A child by a man who she did not want. It seemed everyone suffered in war.
"We need to win, Robb. We need to bring the girls home. We need to go back to Winterfell as soon as possible."
"And that is what we shall do."
...
The voyage to Pyke had been a long one. It had been one which Theon had not enjoyed fully. He had spent most of his time in a cabin, sitting on his bed whilst reading through Cassandra's letter to him. It was on the second day when it was announced that they would be docking in Pyke soon.
Theon moved out from the cabin and stood on deck, looking onto the place where he had been born. The place that he had then been ripped from. He could barely remember Pyke well enough to call it his home. The only home which he knew was Winterfell. He had lived there longer than he had done in Pyke.
He left the large ship for a smaller boat to get him to shore safely, his eyes never leaving the landscape which advanced on him as he went. He climbed out from the boat, his feet hitting dry land as he climbed up some steps and looked around.
"What are you carrying?" a man called out to Theon who turned to look at him.
Obviously people had forgotten who he truly was in his absence. Then again, it had been a long time since he had stepped foot on the shores of Pyke.
"I am heir to the Iron Islands," Theon declared. "The only living son of Balon Greyjoy."
The man simply sniggered at what Theon was saying, his head shaking back and forth. He clearly didn't believe him. And why should he? Theon Greyjoy was supposed to be a hostage living in Winterfell. That was his place, not here on Pyke.
"Of course, lad," the man said with a look of disregard.
"I am Theon Greyjoy," Theon snapped, refusing to back down as he glared at the man. "I require transport to the castle."
"I'm not heading that way, son," the man shook his head, refusing to take Theon where he needed to be. Theon opened his mouth, ready to say something to him regarding how he should be honoured to have a Greyjoy ask him for transportation.
"I am."
A female voice called out to Theon. He turned his head around to see a woman stood before him. Her hair was short around her face, stopping just at her shoulders. She wore breeches and a jacket instead of a dress, clearly a sign of her lack of femininity. Theon arched a brow as she regarded him with interest.
"I'll take you," she spoke, noticing exactly who the man in front of her was. It had been a long time since she had seen her baby brother. She had barely registered who he was as he stood in front of her, his face scrunched up as he wondered the same about her.
"Good," Theon declared.
He began to walk by her side, his head held high as he moved with her, his eyes constantly glancing around him.
"You have not been here in a while, Lord Theon," she informed him, a wry smile tugging at her lips. Theon smirked back, the sense of cockiness taking over him. He was to inherit all of this one day. It would all be his and then no one could control him. No one could tell him what he was and was not to do. He would have his own castle and he would have her by his side. He would see to that.
"I have not," Theon agreed.
"So what is it that brings you back?"
"I do not see how that is your business," Theon informed her with a snide glance.
She chuckled and shrugged.
"I was just curious," she assured him. "I am sure it is an enthralling story. They say war is looming on the main land."
"Aye, that is true," Theon said as she climbed onto a horse.
He took to sit behind her, his hands holding onto her hips as the horse began to move forwards and Theon kept quiet, his eyes widening as he saw the castle grow larger in front of him. The castle which he had been taken from as a child. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to remember what lurked inside of the walls, but failing.
"Nothing has changed," she assured him. "Everything is like it once was."
"And how would you know?"
"The castle is like a home to me," she said.
Theon said nothing more to her as they finally approached the castle and he climbed down from the horse, looking up at it. He only hoped that his plan worked. If not then he would have Cassandra's wrath to feel.
"Stay outside," he demanded from the girl who regarded him with a look of smugness. A look which Theon had seen many times before. He made his own way through the castle, watching as servants eyed him with suspicion. He said nothing to their stares, choosing to keep himself distanced until he was told where his father was.
Theon entered the room hesitantly, his footsteps echoing on the wooden floor underneath him as he went.
"Father." Theon spoke, his voice braver than he felt as he saw a figure sat by a roaring fire.
"Nine years, is it?" the voice called back and Theon winced. The years had passed by without hesitance. "They took a frightened boy. What have they given back?"
"A man." Theon said before taking his steps forwards, his eyes still focused on his father who remained sat in his chair. "Your blood and your heir."
"We shall see," he responded. "Stark had you longer than I did."
"Lord Stark is gone," Theon said; his voice emotionless.
"And how do you feel about that?" he asked, turning in his chair to look at his son with narrowed eyes.
Theon listened to the crackling of the fire for a few moments, wondering what the correct response would be to his father. He needed his support. He needed the ships.
"What's done is done," Theon replied with a non-committal tone. "I brought you a proposal from Robb Stark."
Theon began to move forwards as his father spoke once more.
"Who gave you those clothes? Was it Ned Stark's pleasure to make you his daughter?"
"If my clothes offend you then I will change them."
"You will," Balon agreed, moving back to his son, looking him up and down as he did so. He clearly did not agree with the attire which his son was wearing. He reached out, his hand unclasping the cloak which Theon wore. "I will not have my son dressed as a whore."
Balon retreated back to the warmth of the fire whilst Theon remained confused, his hand still holding the parchment which Robb had given him.
"My fears have come true. The Starks have made you theirs."
"My blood is salt and iron," Theon defended.
"The Stark boy has sent you to me like a trained raven."
"With an offer which I proposed," Theon said.
"Did he heed your counsel?" Balon wondered.
"I have lived with the Starks. I have lived with Robb. I have hunted with him and fought by his side. I have been with the Starks longer than I have been here. They trust me. I am like a brother to Robb."
"No!" Balon snapped back. "Not here. You will not name him brother under my roof. The Starks are nothing on the Iron Islands. Do you understand me?"
"Robb Stark fights against the Lannisters. He fights like you fought years ago," Theon urged his father. "It was my idea to come back here. I needed to do it. Once Robb has won the war then he can name you Lord of Casterly Rock."
"Casterly Rock." A new voice entered the conversation. Theon whirled around to see the girl who had brought him to the castle behind him.
"I thought I told you to wait outside," Theon reminded her.
"You did," she agreed with him and moved to Balon's side. Theon's eyes widened as his father placed his arm around the girl and he finally came to see who she was. He barely recognised her. She had been a fat child the last time he had seen her, not one who held attractiveness.
"Yara," Theon whispered after a moment.
"Welcome home, baby brother," she spoke softly to Theon. "It has been a long time."
"Your sister here has proved herself worthy in your absence. More of her time has been spent on the sea than on land. She has done much more to prove herself than you have." Balon said to his son.
The words stung Theon as he looked to Yara. Her arms were folded tightly over her chest as Theon looked her. What did his father expect? Theon had been thrown away. He had been cast aside by his own father.
"What do you expect me to do?" Theon snapped. "You gave me away. I could hardly prove myself in Winterfell, could I?"
Balon regarded Theon with content for a moment, his voice low as he spoke back to him;
"Give me the boy's proposals," Balon demanded.
Theon stepped forwards. His hand outstretched and the parchment was placed into the palm of his father. Yara looked at her brother for a moment, any traces of the boy she had known as a girl had been lost. Her eyes caught the cloak which sat on the floor before she noted a piece of parchment poking out from the heap of clothing.
She moved forwards, Theon regarding her with content as she dropped down to her knees. He felt his eyes widen as she picked up Cassandra's letter.
"What is this?" she asked from him.
"It is mine," Theon said, trying to snap it from his hold. Balon took a moment to throw the paper which Robb had written on into the flames before watching the siblings.
"What is it, Yara?" Balon asked.
"A love letter," Yara spoke, peering over it to glance at Theon with an arched brow. "It seems he is closer to the Starks than we had thought. He's bedded the eldest girl."
Balon said nothing as Yara handed him the paper and Theon glanced to the floor. He didn't need for them to know of Cassandra. He knew that his father would regard him as weak. Balon chuckled before he scrunched the letter up in his hold. Theon winced as his father disregarded it into the flames to burn alongside Robb's letter.
"It seems you're closer to the Starks than I had thought," Balon said. "You have claimed the girl as your own. Is that why you come here? You come here for ships to win the war for her?"
"I came here for you," Theon said. "Robb has promised you that you can be the King of the Iron Islands and claim Casterly Rock. I thought about you as I did this."
His words were lies, he knew that.
"Really?" Balon asked. "I doubt that. I do not need the King in the North telling me who I can be."
Balon began to move out from the room which his son was housed in, unable to look at the boy who was more Stark than Greyjoy.
"You won't stand a chance against the Lannisters on your own!" Theon snapped after him as Yara stood beside her brother.
"Who said anything about the Lannisters?" Balon snapped back.
Theon watched his father leave, his face one of shock. He never thought that this would be the greeting which he would receive.
"Quite the homecoming," Yara spoke as she took a seat at the long table. Theon watched her with intent as she poured herself a goblet of wine, offering him the seat opposite the table. He hesitantly took it before his sister handed him a goblet.
"You will never be able to persuade father about this," she informed Theon with a smug look. "He detests the Starks. We are Ironborn. We take what is ours."
"And what do we intend to take?" Theon asked. "What did father mean about not attacking the Lannsiters? Who does he intend to attack?"
Yara looked at him suspiciously.
"Do you intend to attack with us?" she asked him. "Or do you intend to go running back to your Lord Stark?"
"He is not my Lord Stark," Theon spat back.
"No," Yara agreed, "but his sister certainly is yours, isn't she? How long have you been fucking her?"
"It is none of your concern," Theon snapped back at his sister.
She drained more of her alcohol before glancing at him. He was her brother. She should feel something for him. But she struggled to feel anything. He was no Ironborn. He was a Stark, through and through, tainted by their eldest daughter.
"Father intends to attack the North." Yara said simply.
Theon took a moment to think, his brain comprehending what was in the North. Who was in the North. Yara saw the cogs ticking over in his brain before she nodded in agreement with what he was thinking.
"Winterfell will be the last to fall, no doubt," she said to him. "But, we both know who is in Winterfell, don't we? The precious Cassandra Stark. Tell me, did Robb Stark promise you his sister if you could persuade father to ally with him?"
Theon drank some more of the wine, the taste sour on his pallet. He failed to care as he drained off the liquid.
"She has already been wed to another."
"Falling for a married woman?" Yara smirked, the story seemingly becoming better with each passing moment. "Naughty Theon."
"She wed a sixty year old Frey. She did it to keep the house's alliance."
"Sixty?" Yara checked; her brows arched with a slight look of disgust. "You need not worry, Theon. Her husband won't make it far once we attack the North."
"And her?" Theon asked his sister. "I know what Ironborns do. They take what is theirs."
"And she will be theirs once Winterfell falls," Yara assured her brother. "I have been on enough pillages to see how it works. A Stark bitch will suffer in the North. That much is obvious."
"No," Theon replied, standing up. "I am Ironborn. I will take what is mine. She is mine."
"How touching," Yara drawled, pouring herself another goblet. "In that case you have no choice but to come with us, do you? You have no choice but to come North and find your precious Cassandra."
Theon thought for a moment, knowing full well that if he agreed to attack the North then he would be a traitor. He would be going against Robb. He would take Winterfell for his own. But he would do it to keep her safe. He had no choice.
"Do you forget who you are, Theon?" Yara asked him. "You are not a Stark. You are not affiliated with them. You're a Greyjoy. You cannot have two families."
"This is my only family," Theon replied.
"Then prove it," Yara snapped back at him. "Prove that this is your only family and renounce any loyalty which you have to the Starks, including the little bitch."
"And if I don't?" Theon asked from Yara.
She regarded him with hesitance for a moment. She stood up, looking across to where Theon stood opposite her.
"Then you leave the Iron Islands back to your master. You go back to your brother, and we take the North. By the time we have struck it will be too late for the Young Wolf to act. We will have pillaged every village before taking Winterfell. And you know what will happen when we take Winterfell." Yara assured him.
"Yet you tell me that I cannot have her if I want to be part of this family," Theon replied and Yara shrugged.
"You can't have her," she spoke. "But you can make sure no one else does."
She walked away from Theon, leaving him stood alone in his father's chambers as he contemplated his sister's words and what they meant. Theon sank back down onto the seat, his hands holding his head as he thought about the genuine dilemma which he was caught in.
...
Cassandra had never felt so sore in her life. The sun streamed in through her window and rested on the stone floor. Stevron stirred slightly, his snores coming out in short breaths. Cassandra had barely slept the previous night after Stevron had taken her. He had been rough and she had been unprepared. He had prayed for mercy as he watched her squirm uncomfortably underneath him.
She had prayed for it to end soon.
The thought of carrying his child filled Cassandra with dread. She didn't want to have his child. She didn't want a child to look after, especially not one with the name Frey. What would Theon think? He wouldn't want her. She couldn't blame him, either. But it would not be her fault if she could not conceive, so long as they tried. It would not be her fault at all.
Cassandra stood up quickly and grabbed her dress from her wardrobe. She changed behind her screen, looking at the bruises on her thighs and hips where Stevron's hands had held her tightly to him. She ignored them as she dropped the blue dress over her head and left her room.
The castle was still quiet in the early hours of the morning as she headed down to the Maester's chambers. She knocked once, waiting for an answer before entering.
"My Lady," Luwin said, taking a stand as Cassandra closed the door. "Is there something I can do for you?"
"I understand you told Bran and Rickon of father," she whispered. "How were they?"
"Upset," he said and Cassandra cursed herself for asking such a stupid question. "They were asking for you. I told them you were grieving with your husband. He had asked for some privacy."
"I did not gain a chance to grieve," Cassandra whispered, sitting down on the seat across his desk. He watched her with an arched brow as she pushed her hair behind her ears. "My husband seems intent on impregnating me." She blurted out.
"As it should be," Luwin agreed with her. "You are expected to give him an heir, Lady Cassandra."
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, shaking her head as she looked at him with pleading.
"I don't want to," she said. "I don't want to have his children. I don't want to give him one...when Robb wins this war...and he brings Theon home..."
"We do not know if the young Greyjoy will come home, my Lady," he reminded her.
"Until I hear of his demise then I refuse to give up hope," Cassandra said. "And I refuse to have Lord Stevron's child."
Luwin heard what she was saying to him and he shook his head. He couldn't give her moon tea again. It was possible that she could become infertile.
"I need it," Cassandra said when she saw him shake his head.
"He will continue to lie with you until you give him what he wants. The sooner you are with child then the easier it becomes for you. He will not take you, my Lady."
"I don't care," Cassandra assured Luwin. "I will not have his child...I cannot..."
"You would grow to love the child." He assured her.
"I do not doubt it," she said. "But...Theon is all that matters to me. It is bad enough I have married, never mind become pregnant."
"You can never marry, Theon," Luwin reminded her. "He is a Greyjoy."
"And what does that matter during a time of war?" Cassandra asked. "You serve the Starks, Maester Luwin, correct?"
"Yes, my Lady," he said, knowing full well that he would give her the tea if he wanted to keep his title.
"Then you serve me," she reminded him. "And I require moon tea."
"Do you know the implications of taking it so often?" he asked her. "You could become infertile."
"Good," Cassandra agreed. "Perhaps then he will stop forcing me to bed him."
Luwin sighed but stood up. He began to prepare the tea as Cassandra sat in the seat, nervously shifting around until it had been brewed. She took it from him, draining the contents before standing up again.
"Can you make a supply?" she asked him.
"A weeks supply, yes," he nodded. "No more for the herbs would not be fresh enough."
"That shall suffice," Cassandra spoke, her hands in front of her as Luwin bowed at the waist.
"If you wish for it, my Lady," he told her. "Although I would advise against taking too much-"
"-And your advice has been noted," Cassandra cut him off. "Thank you very much, Maester Luwin."
Cassandra made her leave from the room, her hand on her stomach as she thought about what she had done. Not once did she have any regrets. She would not take any chances. She refused to carry his child. She refused entirely.
...
A/N: Thank you to cgluv, x XRoweenaJAugustineX x and starrysky7 for reviewing chapter 11! Hope you are enjoying so far and the updates aren't coming too fast!