A Feast For Dragons

Theon

The Hounds howled in their kennels and the bells rang above the Great Hall, waking the Northmen; waking Lord Bolton's bastard son. The guards raced down the spiral stone steps like a southern storm, their swords at hand, ready for the taste of blood. Sansa was crossed. If they followed after Jon, they would surely get caught and their bravery would be for naught. If they exited through the dungeon gates the guards would find them and piece the puzzle together. Then watched the shadows of many men dance along the castle walls. Sansa stood behind him, her fingers tugging at the rags that were his clothes.

"Lady Stark." Theon looked back at the young woman he's admired from afar for years. He held out his hand for her to take. "Do you trust me?"

Sansa stared at the Ironborn with weary eyes. The guards were closing in. Soon they would have them locked in chains for what they did, and Ramsay's wrath would be enough to break their not just their bones, but what little remained of Theon. Sansa wondered what exactly Roose Bolton's Bastard did to Theon to bend him so far back. After a moment's hesitation Sansa decided; she extended an arm to take hold of Theon's hand. He pulled her close, as close as he could.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered, then balled his hand into a tight fist and struck her in the face as hard as he could. Sansa fell to the hard stone floor, out cold. He pried the key's out of her hands and hooked the metal ring around his wrist. He grabbed a spare torch and took a step back, just in time for the guards to find him. He pulled a candle off the wall and held it tightly in his hand.

Theon knew Ramsay would be out and about by now, so he took the chance and broke out into a run. He followed the tunnel back into Winterfell and rushed up the broken tower and to the room where Ramsay spent most of his time. The guards were looking for him now. Sansa had been carried out of the dungeons and back to her chambers to rest. They believed the picture Theon had painted: that he had been the one to set Jon Snow free and attacked the Lord's wife in the process.

Theon used the flame from the torchlight to set the candle afire. He set it on the windowsill, just as Sansa had asked. Hounds howled and barked and men dressed in fine leathers and heavy armour searched all of Winterfell for Reek, but they will never find Reek... because reek was dead.

Ramsay pushed open the wooden door in the broken tower and, as he expected, found Theon standing there, his eyes no longer lifeless and cold. Ramsay frowned deeply and furrowed his brow. "Reek? Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Theon balled his hands into tight fists. He stood in front of the candle so Ramsay couldn't see it flickering in the night. He lowered his head and closed his eyes. Heavy hands ripped at his arms, yanking him away from the window and out of the broken tower. Ramsay followed them down the stone steps and back to the courtyard. He did not catch the candle in the window, but Theon hoped that whoever knew what it meant, did.