#reekcd

╣❦╠ ƈօռզʊɛʀɨռɢ ֆȶօʀʍ ❧

Daenerys had heard enough of the argument between sister and brother, but the moment Asha had come before her to insist that Theon return to the Iron Isles with her, Dany had simply appointed him as her court liaison and Asha’s grimace told her all she needed to know about that decision. The Iron Fleet left harbor later that afternoon though not for long. The Ironborn were the new ship builders for Daenerys’ court. From their ranks would be the new captains protecting the coastline of Westeros and escorting merchant ships. A far cry from when they raided such vessels.

@reekcd asked: ❝ i don’t want to die. ❞ @ ramsay

Oh, the poor bastard. Hadn’t he learned anything? Death was too final; Reek would be of no use to him dead. Alive, he was a faithful servant. Besides, it was fun to see him transform from a man of cockiness and sarcastic remarks to the shell of a man, barely even a man anymore since his... transformation. Ramsay knew how sadistic he was, and he prided himself in being a Bolton, not a Snow.

@reekcd​ asked : “you look tired.”

     HOW STRANGE IT IS TO HEAR THESE WORDS. something he would have deemed impossible a mere few years ago, now indeed happening; a small, soft little start to feelings of trust, loyalty       perhaps even something like love between brothers who once could barely stand one another’s company. over the past few weeks Maron has ventured deep into the realms of introspection and while he has figured that it’s a place he doesn’t like very much, the journey itself perhaps was quite necessary. a quiet voice in the back of his head at least keeps on whispering that Theon perhaps could have always loved him, if he had only given him the chance to do so.

      approaching his brother is strangely easy; what used to be tedious and strained now feels like a stroll across the sand, and just as easily does he wrap an arm around Theon’s shoulders to pull him into a brief, but remarkably loving embrace. contrary to what Theon may have ever believed, Maron is rarely one to shy away from physical touch. especially when it concerns family. the hug, brief as it may be, is tight, supportive almost. a quiet reassurance that yes, he can be relied on. he’s made a promise, after all. a promise to help his little brother become what he was always meant to be.

      “if you start crying I will have to slap you, you know that.” words that once may have been a threat are nothing but teasing now. some weakness and wavering remains in Theon’s voice and body. a shiver that has become a constant companion it seems. something to work on, to say the least. he releases Theon but keeps a hand on his shoulder; quiet support perhaps, he’s not quite sure either. and the look he then gives his brother is warm but quite determined. “you know I still believe Ramsay Bolton needs to die.” they’ve had the conversation before          no need not to drag it back up again.

The midwife had insisted on putting down a sheet. It didn’t help, she could still feel the straw and dirt under her, but at least dirt wouldn’t get on the baby when it came. If it came. It had been hours already, laying on this filthy stable floor, like an animal, while Ramsay watched. The midwife said he should send his filthy servant away, but Ramsay insisted Reek stay in there, though Theon was relegated  to the shadows. 

The contractions were bad, waves of pain, but she wasn’t yet open enough to begin pushing out the future Lord of Winterfell’s son, not quite yet. Ramsay grew bored of watching her cry miserably, and hungry- Jeyne was hungry too, but told not to eat, she’d just vomit it up during the birth anyway- but Ramsay got to go back into his warm home to eat. 

A cat and a mouse--that was all they were now. Ramsay had done quite a number on Theon, that much was clear, but Robb’s greatest regret was not that he’d come too late, but that he’d not had the chance to ruin the man himself. The Robb Stark that had grown with this boy, fought with him, ate with him, cried with him, was long dead. And so, it seemed, was Theon. Two new men stood across from each other in the snow: Reek and Lord Stoneheart. If he was a kind man, he’d have gotten this over with quickly.

He was not a kind many any longer.