The Iron Thorn | Theon Greyjoy

17.

Massey

"You hunted with your father?"

   "Not always," I answered with a grunt as I released the arrow.

   "Then who?" Arya pried further, handing me another. Jon looked on with raised eyebrows.

   "Mostly with Broden, my twin brother. And, there was...a boy. We hunted together once." I looked down to her, lowering the bow. She waited for me to elaborate. "Or twice. His name was Barret. He lived with his family outside of the castle walls, and his mother sold all sorts of things. Bread, pastries, candles, even jewelry some days. We met as children when my mother would take me out to the market with her. I must have been, what? Nine? He was eight. That sounds right. Our mothers became fast friends, and so did we since we'd see each other at least weekly. We grew up together. Over the years, I'd sneak away to see him, or he'd do the same. We'd play games, read, even just talk. Sometimes, our meetings were all I had to look forward to. Once, a few days after my fifteenth nameday, we went to the woods together. I took my bow for the first time in a long time. He wasn't a skilled hunter. He wasn't a skilled anything, but his family had fallen on hard times. I wanted to help. Jon?"

   I held out the bow and guided Arya around me so that Jon could get her started.

   "Then what happened?" She asked curiously as she followed Jon's cues.

   "Well," I sighed. "I did what I could. I was rusty, but I relearned quickly. I hunted for their family for months. I found rabbit, mostly, but it kept them fed. I would take what I could from home as well. Spare fruits when no one was looking. Until my oldest brother found us. Gareth didn't like that, didn't like him. Barret was small, not from a good family. He was so angry when he came upon us in the woods. So unbelievably, irrationally angry, as he always seemed to be. Just the volume at which he screamed was enough to scare Barret off. He took my arrows right from my hands, and he-" I stopped myself, pulling the sleeve of my gown down and absentmindedly clenching my hand into a tight fist. "Well, nevermind, that's unimportant. My point is that my brother thought to make my choices for me, so he involved my father. I don't know exactly what happened, but after that day, I never saw Barret again. Almost two years later, a few weeks before my mother passed, I found out that he had died. My brother and father had run their family out of town. Bribed them, I suspect, to relocate. Once they did, even harder times fell on them. Barret had turned to stealing for his family. He stole from the wrong person one day, and well," I huffed and gave a shrug. "That was it."

   Mostly, time went by for me without a thought of Barret disrupting my day, but when I did stop to remember him, the heartbreak felt fresh again. With the weight of my ailing mother on my shoulders, I never had the chance to properly grieve him. The day Gareth had found us just outside of our family's orchards was the day I realized my life was not my own. No matter what I did, no matter who I loved, a man in my life would always have the final say. My father, my brother, and eventually, my husband would always have the louder voice in the room. Lost in thought, I hadn't realized Arya was speaking to me again.

   "What?" I finally responded, shaking my head lightly in an attempt to clear my thoughts.

   "I said...I said, that's awful. I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that."

   Arya had lowered the bow and turned to face me. Jon stood with his arms at his side, facing me as well. I quickly realized just how much I had turned their attention away from the lesson. Dismissing their pity, I apologized, and we finished up and sent Arya to bed. Jon and I headed to the dining hall for a late dinner. There was some barely warm stew left for us, alongside some bread and a small serving of cheese. We got settled and began eating before Jon and I became lost in more conversation, speaking about how well Arya did and eventually landing on the topic of my mother's time in Winterfell.

   "My mother was heartbroken to leave Lyanna. Their friendship was one she mourned for the rest of her life."

   "I didn't even know that they knew each other," Jon said as he refilled his cup.

   "Oh, yes. Lyanna was her closest friend. She told me once that they would plot to arrange a marriage between my mother and Lord Stark," I whispered scandalously, as though there were anyone nearby to hear. "Imagine that. I could have been your sister."

   "I'm not sure it works that way."

   I pointed my fork at him accusingly. "But, you're not sure it doesn't."

   He laughed at that before deciding to carry on the conversation from nearly an hour ago.

   "Did you love him? Barret?" Jon asked cautiously.

   "I think so, yes," I answered with my head down as I tore some bread off to share with him. "As much as someone that young could love someone. I knew that my family would never allow us to be together. I'm not sure there was any purpose to even trying. I suppose I'll never know."

   I smiled at him, but not sincerely. The kind of smile that was only meant to reassure the person on the receiving end. Jon could sense that, of course. He reached out and placed his hand on top of mine for a moment, a silent apology. Quickly and quietly, as though he were scared to offend me, he added something that made my heart drop.

   "And Theon?"

   I set my fork down and brought my eyes to his, trying not to show that my heart had begun thumping just a bit more rapidly. "What of Theon?"

   "You love him," he said, more statement than question. I believe he saw the panic behind my eyes at the first time someone else had spoken of this out loud. "I'm sorry, I-"

   I shook my head gently to prevent him from rambling through an apology. "I don't know."

   "But, Robb. You do know that."

   I kept quiet for a long moment, not even shaking my head to deny what he was saying. "And you could just...tell?"

"I've seen the two of you together."

  "What am I to do?" I asked just above a whisper.

   He shrugged and spoke in a tone that matched my own, his dark and strangely sympathetic eyes boring into me. "Keep going until you do know."

   Jon was right, I did not care for Robb the same way I cared for Theon. If he could see it so plainly, could everyone else? My father wanted me to be happy, but my happiness wasn't all that mattered here. Besides, I could see through to his true desire of joining our family with House Stark, and I could not blame him for it. Did I think myself so important that my desires could dictate subversions to the expectations of my name? Was I so exceptional that I could be the first in my family to disregard the work of my father and his father before him that had put me in such a privileged position that I seemed to show no gratitude for? No, surely not. Aside from that, I still didn't know how Theon truly felt. I could be squandering an opportunity at a wonderful future for a man who simply wanted to bed me and wash his hands of me. Still, my heart wandered along with my mind. Part of me wanted to spew everything I was thinking to Jon, but the shame from my conflicting loyalties stopped me. Could what I was feeling for Theon truly be more important than my duty to my family? More important than what I felt I owed to Robb at this point? And if not, I'd have to make that decision quickly, as people were apparently starting to take notice. For the time being, at least, I'd have to appear as though my head were on straight.

"What I know is that I'm expected to marry Robb. I did not come here to find Theon. It was a...misjudgment," I said unconvincingly, as if with some faux authority over my own thoughts. "No matter my confusions, I'm going to do right by my father."

"Which would mean?"

I took a prolonged pause before answering him, trying to convince myself that I was telling the full truth. Beneath the table, I picked at the tips of my fingers and the ends of my gown anxiously.

"Robb," I uttered simply.

   Jon understood, not just what I was saying, but also what I wasn't. Instead of pushing me any further, he nodded silently and went on to assure me that he'd never betray my trust by telling anyone what we'd discussed this evening. I was lucky to have found a true friend in Winterfell, one who understood me and cared for me. That much was not lost on me. We finished up our dinner in comfortable silence before parting for our chambers, where the relentless melody of my own emotions found me once again.