The Iron Thorn | Theon Greyjoy

41.

Massey

In truth, I could have been doing something more with my time, but I quite enjoyed fletching arrows. I had dabbled with it in my youth, but being with Theon had reignited the long dormant interest for me. Bran sat with Luwin at the same table they always did, studying and sorting through the responsibilities that seemed to pile on by the hour. Rickon and I, however, sat at the back of the training yard with a pile of cleaned feathers. He and I finished up a few more arrows and went again to practice his archery. We both knew that his mother wouldn't love seeing her youngest with a bow in hand so soon, but I figured one secret in her absence wouldn't hurt too much. So long as we were safe.

"Relax your grip," I instructed him, taking a step toward where he was standing and squatting to reach for his hand. "You needn't hold on to the arrow so harshly. Try squeezing your hand around it tightly once before holding on more loosely. You'll feel the difference."

He did, releasing his grip and sending the arrow flying at the target. It bounced off, having been too slow to stick, but his aim was truer.

"Well done, Rickon. Keep trying."

Watching over him as he practiced made me miss Arya and Jon. Granted, Rickon was not as skilled as his sister yet, and Maester Luwin did little to compare to Jon in the way of archery. Nevertheless, practicing with Rickon brought me comfort and broke up the monotony of the days since everyone had gone.

Not long after Rickon had begun gathering the arrows scattered about, Osha came to join us. She was in a good mood, speaking of taking the boys to the heart tree with a subtle smile on her face.

"You like quite pleased today, Osha. I take it the cooks are warming up to you, then."

"Some more than others," she muttered.

With a smirk, I brought my eyes up to her's searching for an elaboration. "Meaning?"

She looked at me suggestively, so I took a guess. Not much of a guess, as I had seen the two of them speaking in a manner that only a man and women who think they have total privacy would speak.

"Gage?"

"What?" She scoffed as she met my accusatory gaze and spoke in a whisper. "He's a gentle lover."

I busted out into a scandalous laugh at her unabashed confirmation, the first genuine amusement I'd felt in days. The fun didn't last long, though, as we buried the topic in favor of something more suitable to the boys' ears in case they should hear.

The boys went off with Hodor and Osha toward the Godswood in search of Summer and Shaggydog, Bran perched atop Osha's shoulders. As they trailed off, I found myself thinking what a welcome change it was to hear Rickon's laugh accompanying her steps instead of the clashing of chains. Maester Luwin stayed back and gathered his books to return them back to his turret.

"Here, let me," I cut in, beginning to scoop up the books myself. "I'd be happy to take them back for you, if you'd like. I'm sure you're needed elsewhere, and I'd like to check for ravens. Hoping to hear from my brother. It's been over a week now since I last wrote him."

Luwin met my sad smile with a reassuring one.

"Thank you, Massey," he replied in a sincere tone before handing me what little he was already holding.

I took the small stack a bit absentmindedly as I grew eager to check for a raven that I knew deep down wouldn't be there. After carrying myself up the bell tower, trudging step after step up and across the covered bridge there, I finally reached Luwin's turret where I considerately placed everything back in order. I lingered perhaps a moment longer than I should have, relishing in the last moments before the disappointment of not hearing from Broden again.