The Iron Thorn | Theon Greyjoy

50.

Massey

When dinner was brought to me, alongside the clothing Yara had promised to send, I was too exhausted to even look at the food. It was some sort of fish stew, and it was unpleasant to my nostrils to say the least. I ate only the small hunk of bread that came with it. The girl who dropped it off couldn't have been more than ten and four. She was pretty, meek. I wondered if she had been collected by some reaver, or if her parents perhaps forced her to work in this castle. Both thoughts disturbed me.

Yara returned a while later, relaying the message that her father preferred to meet with me the next day rather than be bothered in the evening. Instinct told me that she was sweetening his words to spare my feelings. She entered the chamber without a second thought, releasing a heavy breath as she sat down in a chair against the wall.

"You've not eaten," she said after a few moments of rubbing at her eye.

"I have," I denied rather quickly. "It was good."

She brought her eyes back to me with a look reminiscent of my mother's most stern expressions of my youth. "What meat's in it, then?"

"It's...well, it's fish," I stammered with a shake of my head as I diverted my gaze. "I do not know my sea fish well—"

"It's clam. You're from the Riverlands, a wealthy family, even. Yet, you can't tell a clam from a fish?"

She cocked her head as she spoke, slowing down her words as if accusing me of something. I brought my eyes back to her's and waited for her to say what she truly meant.

"You've not eaten," she repeated.

"I've not eaten."

"Why?"

"I'm not hungry."

"You are," she persisted. "You've not eaten since last night on the ship. We can't have that. This...arrangement will not work for either of us if you are not honest with me. What is wrong?"

I couldn't tell her what thoughts filled my head that prevented me from filling my belly. I couldn't tell her of the letter I'd burned, the confession Theon had made, my desire to return to him despite the danger. I couldn't say a word.

"You look pale," she added, her resolve unwavering. "Are you ill?"

"No, no. I'm alright."

She stared across to me, her eyes not leaving mine for a second. The room was noticeably tense at that moment. It felt like I was in trouble, like she knew what I was hiding. Or, she at least knew there was something to be hidden. Yara let out a final breath, stood, and made for the door, turning back for a moment before leaving me to sleep, but I spoke up before she could scold me again.

"Theon means to die," I said as I looked up at her in the doorway. "But, you know that, don't you?"

For the first time, she looked uncomfortable at my words rather than the other way around. There wasn't a dramatic shift on her face, but her eyes softened in a way that told me I was right. It was just a truth the both of us seemed to be dancing around.

"It does not feel right to be here...in his home, without him while he fights for his life, no matter what he has done."

"I know," she replied, her voice dipping into a more compassionate tone. "But, he refused my help, and this is where he wants you. You're safe here, and you must take care of yourself now."

"Refused your help?"

"I pleaded for him to return to the Iron Islands with us," she sighed. "Pleaded for him to abandon his post, to not die so far from the sea. He refused."