AN: I do have to point one thing out: I am completely and utterly against torture. It's nearly useless in most case and it's a fucking horrible thing that should never have been conceived by our species. Case in point: I've heard of a Nazi interrogator in WW2, who became friends with the prisoners, and thus were far more willing to give reliable info in their conversations. It's manipulative sure, but I sleep better at night thinking on that, then thinking on people getting waterboarded.
Also, medieval people are quite nasty when you get down to it. Their torture devices are some of the nastiest things I've seen or heard about. Theon knows this, but he's only... Witnessed it now, in the last interlude. And he's been getting a pretty softcore version, relatively.
On a far more happier note, I'm also completely willing to reply to people who PM to me about this fanfic. I'll not give away any major plot information, but I am willing to give explanations to things that I may not have given a valid explanation to, in-story.
Options and Opportunities
Chapter VI
Compassion
I quickly ran to the springs as soon as Ned had gone beyond the corridor, and I could let my mask slip. What the fuck was that?!
I felt horrified, despite my intentionally cold expression. How in the name of god do they think that is an okay thing to do? It was ineffective, cruel, like how do they think that this is going to bring any relevant information?! Not to mention that sadistic fuck of Joren thinking that psychological torture was even better!
A sudden grim, hard determination came over me. I was going to prove all these medieval idiots wrong, that stabbing or flaying people doesn't provide good results.
I walked back the way I came, ignoring any of the servants that wished to wipe the grime off my breeches. I eventually arrived in front of the unguarded dungeons and walked in.
"What the fuck do you want, you fucking sadistic cunt?" One of the wildlings screamed at me, and I barely restrained my flinching.
"I'm not here to torture you," I said. "I'm here to help you out."
There had to be a reason to the wildlings invading the North now.
"How? You're just another one of these kneelers..." The one spearwife that had been captured said, with a defeated tone, and a nasty bruise on her rather beautiful face, and dirt on her dark locks.
"I'll... Be able to convince the Starks to give you the Gift." I quickly tried to think. "They aren't without reason. If you just tell them why or who, they'll be merciful. I swear."
"Why, you won't believe us anyway, kneeler." The spearwife replied, after silencing her brothers, seemingly being the leader of this small band. "And who, you won't recognize him anyway."
"Maybe. But you've got two options here - you get tortured for info that leads to a war, or you listen to me that may lead to peace and your wish since your ancestors were first kicked beyond the wall." I said as I turned to leave.
"Your name, kneeler?" The spearwife asked, with some fire to her tone.
"Theon Greyjoy. What about yours?" I replied as I stopped in front of the exit.
"My name is Jalla, and the rest of these idiots are Tarren, Mund, and Thulri," Jalla replied, something approaching warmth in her tone.
"I'll make sure to remember those names," I said sincerely, as I left the dungeons to rush towards Ned's solar. I had to convince him... Otherwise...
I had to do something. The wildlings were running away from something. The Others, or maybe a more mundane threat... There was an explanation. Somewhere. The Free Folk had never been prone to... This large-scale attack, especially beyond the Wall.
I hadn't thought of it before, too consumed by being... Westerosi, I suppose. Too focused on myself and the people around me.
I knocked on the door, entering when I heard that muffled 'enter'.
"My lord," I said, kneeling, only rising after a second or two on the floor. "I've come to you on the matter of the wildlings."
"Theon... I know that your sister is dear to you-" He tried to pacify me, but I interrupted quickly. Mentioning Asha only brought me frustration at the moment.
"My lord, if you may, it isn't about that. It's about the reason why the wildlings are invading." I said, praying that Ned was feeling patient today. "I've been in a bit of a history craze at the moment, and I've noticed one thing - the wildlings have never tried an all-out attack like that, in all of the history that I've managed to get my hands on."
"This matters because...?" Eddard replied, raising his brow, willing me to continue. He was trying to get me to explain myself... Luckily, I was in a rather rhetorical mood.
"The wildlings have to be running away from something. They were trying to gain a bargaining chip by kidnapping Robb, Sansa or even Jon and negotiate to some kind of terms. Unfavourable ones for sure, but..." I said, taking a moment to catch my breath.
"So who is chasing them? The Others have been gone for centuries..."
I thought about it for a second, and then I realized what that tortured man had nearly said before Joren had stabbed him. The Weeper. One of the most sadistic men within the Free Folk. "They're running away from one of their own."
"Why would they run? Why not just fight him off?" Eddard asked.
"Yes, but within the wildlings, they still have the remnants of the Old Magic. Greenseers, wargs. Imagine if, under this man, they all formed a banner and decided that whoever rebelled would feel the might of the old magic and the madness of their leader? It'd be impossible to fight off, within the constraints of their primitive tools and weaponry." I replied, adrenaline coursing through me.
"It's a valid explanation," Ned replied, in a tone that I wasn't quite sure of. "However, how am I going to justify fighting on behalf of wildlings? To the Umbers, the Mormonts and the Glovers especially?"
"Divide the governance of the Gift between them three, with the main power being you of course. We'll allow the wildlings to elect a leader to give them a voice, and as they get used to a life of not pillaging, they'll eventually be able to govern their own lands." I replied, thinking through the details in my head. "The North'll gain quite a lot of men, and if the tales are true, other mystical creatures that the wildlings can communicate with."
"The political fiasco with the South will be catastrophic." He said, and that when I knew that I had him. The North did not care for politics unless it was within the North itself.
"Your friends with the king, the hand of the king and allies with the Riverlands, which can be defended if we manage to gain permission to build castles and fortifications along the borders with the other kingdoms. The Tullys will agree, mostly due to the fact that the Riverlands is nearly completely undefendable on its own. The Blackfish will testify for you if I've heard the stories about him correctly." I continued.
"The Westerlands nor the Reach will agree to it, but the Riverlords will always have a place in the North." He replied, as I mentally added 'as long as they transport all their food with them as well'. "I'll see what I can do. Firstly, let's see if you can get them to get more information out of them. You're doing a far better job then Joren is doing."
I managed to stop myself from saying that he shouldn't have been used anyway, but nodded and left.
"Good job, Theon." Eddard Stark said, and I suppressed my smile as best as I could, as I hurried to the dungeons. There was still work to be done after all.
I had both stopped and started a war, and I had managed to do it within a single conversation. The thought chilled me, just as much as I felt guilty pride. Varys and Littlefinger would be proud of me, I'm sure.
The worst thing is, I'm not even sure I'm even right. I was working on guesses and knowledge that was starting to barely have any meaning any more.
For all I know, I'm being played for a fiddle by Jalla.
That was the worst thing of all. Having that niggling doubt that you were only a pawn, trying to be a player.
AN: If you're disappointed that all of the wildlings aren't going to meet Bobby B's hammer, all I have to say is that Theon is only a fish in a massive pond. Having the potential to be big enough to make waves, but not quite there yet.
I hope that Ned is feeling in character as I felt he was last interlude. Also, I was originally going to have a minor exposition dump, but instead plot happened. I only hope that the story isn't going too fast for you guys. I'm just really, really excited to get to canon with all of the changes that are happening - both known and behind the scenes.