#reeckd

𝙷𝙴 𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚂 𝙰 𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙾𝙽 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙽𝙴𝙿𝙷𝙴𝚆'𝚂 𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳𝙴𝚁,  the touch not nearly as comforting as it should be.  there is no pity to be found in his eyes and even less when it comes to the fingers closing around tired bones  ——  almost rough,  unyielding and void of softness.  shouldn’t Aeron Greyjoy know better,  however  ?   he is familiar with the weight of terrible memories,  is he not  ?   yet he has also drowned them out,  washed them away with salt water and his own unwavering faith,  made his body into a vessel,  a tool for the drowned to use and nothing more,  his voice manifested to the people.  Aeron cannot afford memories to distract him from his purpose,  yet not even all the salt in the sea is enough to truly scrub him clean,  and sometimes they come for him all the same,  during the few hours he allows his body to rest. «  only faith can help you now,  Theon.  if you are strong enough to let it.  are you  ?   »    the words he lets out sound as harsh as the wind billowing around them,  piercing and cold.  they might sound cruel,  yet there is no intent to hurt for the simple sake of it hidden behind the vowels.  they are the words of an ironborn  ——  of an emissary of their god.