Iron and Blood: a Theon & Sansa Story

Chapter 13

Sansa
Sansa smiled down at her sewing, so elated that she did not notice the twinge in Septa Mordane's voice when the old woman inquired, "What is maddening you?"

"I'm only happy," Sansa replied, without looking up from her work. Beside her, she saw Jeyne Poole turn her head.

If a boy so much as shot Sansa a passing glance, she hurried to tell Jeyne. Even now, she wanted to—but she knew it was Jeyne that told Robb about Theon leaving her bedchamber the afternoon prior. If Sansa told her that she had kissed Theon and clung to him all night, what would stop her from running back to Robb?

Why did she run to Robb the first time? Sansa wondered. She could have come to me and asked what had happened.

Jeyne had always mused that Theon would someday bed her. She spoke of him with such vulgarity that Sansa often blushed at her words.

"Maybe someday I'll be Lady Greyjoy," Jeyne had posited a few months earlier. For all Sansa knew, Jeyne already had taken Theon to bed—though she could not imagine her friend would not tell her. They spent hours gossiping at meals and in the gardens, pondering which men of Winterfell were the strongest, the most handsome, or the one they'd most like to wed. Theon was a favorite of Jeyne's, though Sansa could not remember thinking twice of Theon for anything.

Now she wondered why he had not been her first choice for everything.

Sansa felt silly thinking about it: it was unlikely  that Theon had thought twice about the night they'd spent together or the kiss they'd shared that morning. Her exhaustion had emboldened her, and she worried her courage had run out. A part of her feared that Theon had not wanted any of it, but she had to be wrong—he had wanted her to stay in his chamber, had asked if he could hold onto her, and had kissed her readily in the morning. He had even carried her to the chamber down the corridor so he could lay her down in her own bed for the morning.

It felt exciting and secretive—unlike anything Sansa had ever known. She had never been one to disobey orders and break rules. If her mother knew the trouble she was making, she might have Sansa's head. Somehow, that made Sansa enjoy it more.

When Septa Mordane let Sansa and Jeyne go for dinner, she scolded Sansa for her shaky stitching. Sansa hollered her apologies as Jeyne gripped her hand outside the door.

"I heard your brother beat Greyjoy bloody," Jeyne whispered with a mischievous smile.

"I doubt Robb beat him bloody," echoed Sansa. She rolled her eyes and tried to play the mummer. "I passed him in the yard this morning," she added. "He didn't look like he was hurt."

Sansa had not seen Theon since that morning in her bedchamber, but he had not winced when he kissed her, even with the cut on his lip.

Jeyne yanked on Sansa's arm and said, "Helda and I saw him go to the tavern after Robb was done with him." Jeyne laughed. "Maybe he needed a soft womanly touch to take care of him after that."

As she said it, Jeyne scampered ahead to greet Helda at the door to the Great Hall. It gave Sansa time to consider what Jeyne had said.

Sansa did not want to believe she had heard properly. If Jeyne were correct, it meant Theon had been to the tavern just hours before Sansa crept into his room and touched his skin. The thought of another woman on his lips made Sansa's stomach lurch.

"Stupid girl," she hissed at herself, quiet enough so that Jeyne and Helda would not hear. They were so busy giggling that they did not notice Sansa shake away the tears that had gathered in her eyes.

As Helda and Jeyne came back to her, Sansa thought she might vomit. Instead, she forced a smile to entertain the other girls' giddiness. If they noticed something was amiss, they did not put a name to it.

The Great Hall was busier than usual—Robb had asked some of the other Northern Lords to dine with him in celebration of his sister's safe return to Winterfell. The North had no love for the Lannisters, and when the other houses heard what Joffrey had done to Arya, no Lord was silent. Lady Mormont of Bear Island even suggested Robb march all the way to King's Landing to bring the girl home safe.

Now that she had returned, the North could breathe easier—at least until it was time for Sansa to go South and face Joffrey herself.

As she had fallen asleep wrapped up in Theon's arms, Sansa had imagined him fighting off the villains from King's Landing when they came to take her from Winterfell. In her fantasies, Sansa had not envisioned Theon paying another woman for intimacy before spending the night with her.

Sansa sighed at how quickly the magic had crumbled to ashes. All of a sudden, she was just a stupid girl again, and soon she would be summoned to King's Landing to pay for her stupidity.

The Great Hall was hot with life. Visitors could not have guessed that winter was coming. Sansa knew, though, even if every other Stark had forgotten. She thought Theon knew, too, but now she was not so sure.

Robb chose not to use the dais for the evening, so the frontmost table hosted the Stark children, Sansa's mother, Lord Glover and Lord Manderly, and Theon, too. All day, Sansa had been looking forward to sitting beside him, grazing her fingers against his leg under the table, and perhaps squeezing close to him if too many guests joined their bench. Now, the thought haunted her.

Sure enough, there was room left beside him, but nothing could have motivated Sansa to sit so close. Instead, she led Jeyne and Helda to the open seats across from her younger brothers, where Ser Rodrik was gnawing at the leg of a chicken.

As her friends filled their plates, Sansa sensed his eyes on her, though she made no move to return his gaze. Slowly, she collected some vegetables and a thin piece of meat, in the hopes that Jeyne and Helda would not notice her hurt.

Of course you would cry over a stupid boy, she was saying to herself.

It was Bran who asked his sister if she was all right. Sansa perked at the sound of his voice, desperate to avoid more attention, and won Bran over with a smile. "I'm doing wonderful, sweet brother. How are you this evening?"

Even Arya joined their conversation, visibly bored with Robb and the other Lords' haggling over harvests and finances. Lady Catelyn listened and watched her eldest son as he spoke, though she would say nothing to undermine him, Sansa knew. It bothered Robb when his mother treated him like a child rather than the Lord that he was.

Theon was fidgeting in his seat, most of his food untouched. Occasionally, he would take a swig of ale, though it did not appear to ease him: Sansa saw his eyes wander to her as he listened to the Northern Lords. Once, she even looked back at him, but her gaze was stony. She could not let him see her sadness.

When it came time to leave Winterfell for King's Landing, she would have to tuck away her hurt forever.