The Iron Thorn | Theon Greyjoy

55.

Massey

As morning began to seep into the room, I slowly stirred from my sleep. The cold worked to stiffen my body through the night, making my usual morning stretch a bit more work than usual. My arms reached out, cracking lightly as they found the pillows around me, where I noticed the absence of Rowen. I sat up, glancing from the dwindling fire to the kitchen table. It wasn't a large space by any means, but it didn't stop me from calling his name as if he could be hiding behind a broomstick.

   When I finally stood, I looked out of the front window to see the weather had cleared. The sharp wind was left lingering behind, but the only snow falling was coming in clumps off of the bare tree branches above me. I hurried to put on my layers again, one after the other before I creaked open the door and stepped outside. Rowen wasn't around, and looking off into the distance, he wasn't by the water either. I circled around the side of the cottage and my heart sank as my eyes found where we'd kept the horses. Now, there was only one. And, it wasn't even mine.

   Certainly he hasn't up and left.

   Fighting the urge to shout for him in fear of attracting the attention of anyone or anything else, I began to panic. I searched around a few minutes longer, but there was only one trail of prints to be found. Two, if you'd count the horse's. They went straight from the makeshift stable to the creek and they kept going back in the direction we'd come from. I grabbed onto the chilled bark of a tree near the water, closed my eyes, and tried to still my thoughts.

He has gone. He's up and left because I wouldn't allow him to bed me.

After reflecting there a few moments longer, I hurried back inside, where I realized only then that he'd taken his portion of things and most of the food. Scrambling so swiftly that I nearly fell over a broken plank on the floor, I searched frantically through my own belongings.

   From the pouch on top of my closest saddlebag, he'd taken only what I'd promised to pay him once we made it to the Wall. Even from an extra bag of money I'd hidden, nothing was missing. He hadn't taken anything else of consequence. I allowed a certain dread to set in as I sat on the floor counting my coin, a million things going through my mind.

   He's taken the food. That horse is too stubborn for me to start riding in such conditions. How can I make it to the Wall on my own? I've not even rested properly, I'm too weak. I'll freeze, collapsing just outside of my friend's reach. Jon doesn't even know I'm coming.

   In my solitude, I allowed myself to cry as my back found the bed. As I sat dejected, though, a chorus of encouragement weaved through the negative thoughts I'd had. The much needed, deeply buried positivity reminded me that I was resilient. I was brave. It reminded me to collect myself.

   After giving up only briefly, I decided that I could indeed make it on my own. Jon was only a few hours out, and I'd ridden just fine that far. I wouldn't need much food since the ride was relatively short. The horse would warm up to me, and I to it. I had my clothing, and I had the determination. The situation wasn't ideal, but I was only squandering daylight by pouting on the floor of a stranger's home.

   I stood and searched the blanket again for the pieces of Theon's chain. Only two had snapped, or at least that was all I was able to find. I worked carefully to squeeze them back together before braiding the chain through my hair, hoping to keep him with me as I set out on my own. My chest ached with shame for the fact that I'd given in so easily in a moment of weakness the night before. My vow was until my last day, not his.

With a renewed resolve, I gathered my things. On the kitchen table, Rowen had so generously left a bit of dried fish that we'd gotten from the inn and two apples. I scooped it all up, twirling one apple in my hand and resisting the urge to dig my fingers into its soft spots. The apple was as good a peace offering as any, I'd decided.