Reek I (Theon Greyjoy x Reader)

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AN: I may have gotten a tad carried away with this Oneshot, so I split it into two parts.  The second part is significantly longer than this part, though I split it in the most understandable place. 
Warnings: Mentions of rape and abuse, but nothing entirely graphic.

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It had been weeks since Ramsay had taken Winterfell, and with Winterfell, he had taken you as a lowly servant.  You had been unfortunate enough to be helping take care of Bran when the siege took place, and were grateful that Hodor had gotten out with Bran, though you were not nearly as lucky.  From that point on, you had become a multiple purpose slave for Ramsay, as a maid sometimes, someone to take out his anger upon, as well as someone he would have his way with when he was feeling up to angry sex.  

It had never been mutual, and typically landed you with a great deal of damage to your genitalia, leaving you a crying, bruised and broken mess.  Your only relief during your days was the occasional visit in the barn you would get from Reek, where you would be ordered to fix up the wounds that Ramsay had given him.  Though Ramsay could have just allowed him to bleed out, that would have been a great deal less fun for him. Reek was his entertainment, and his revenge.  

Reek was once the stunning, valiant, and flirtatious Theon Greyjoy, and each time you came to his aid, you stared at the face of the broken man.  Tonight, you were trying to be as gentle as possible, knowing that Ramsay had beaten Reek far worse than usual. The tears that you could see staining his beaten face merely confirmed the awful chorus of screams you had listened to prior.  

Your hands shook slightly as you brought the warm cloth to his face, gently dabbing at the bloodied spot upon his cheek.  Reek shrank away from your touch, causing you to grimace, before attempting once again to dab the wound. "I'm not gonna hurt ya," you whispered gently, "I love you too much.  I just want to ease the pain."  

The broken Greyjoy seemed to respond to your words, allowing you to dab at his wound as gently as you possible could, while his eyes turned towards you.  You were able to catch a glimpse into the broken blue eyes, seeing maybe a small touch of Theon still hidden behind the immense abuse that he had sustained over time from Ramsay.  

You had not lied when you said that you loved Theon, either.  The two of you had grown up together under the care of Lord and Lady Stark, though neither of you were looked fondly upon by Lady Stark.  Catelyn had found it a bit much that Ned had taken both of you as the Stark's wards, especially since you had been brought home at the same time that Jon Snow entered the picture.  

You grew closer and closer to Theon, though you strayed further as he begun seeing the whore that he paid to bed.  You did not comprehend why the young, handsome Theon Greyjoy would always bed a whore, when you thought you had made your advances rather obvious.  Though he was oblivious, he had his own reasons, and you felt that you had to accept it.  

After a while of dabbing at his wounds and stitching what was necessary with a threaded needle, occasionally hearing a whimper escape his lips, you watched in shock as his bloodied lips formed your name.  At first, it was a silent speech, as if the slave was silently screaming for aid, though no matter how silent it was, it had brought your attention to the lips that you planned to clean last. Your gaze studied the broken man's features, showing him that he had your attention.  

"Y/N," he whispered, barely above a whisper.  The damaged man's voice crumbled as he spoke, though it still tugged your heart strings to hear him speak a word to you.  Over the weeks of tending to his wounds, this had been the first time he had any recollection to you at all.  

Feeling a shaky hand reach to cup your cheek, you felt as if you may break down in tears right there.  His hand was warm, despite his condition, and you softly nuzzled into it, though you made with haste to get his wounds taken care of.  Never had Ramsey allowed you enough time to care for "Reek" anyhow, and you knew the tyrant would enter simply to hinder your care for him.  

"Theon," you murmured out, a whisper nearly inaudible, but just enough that he would be able to hear you.  Through his pain, he managed to give you the lightest smile, as if he were fighting to do so despite his condition.  "I need to get you out of here." 

"The Wall," he said, struggling to form each word, as if he were battling the abused form that had become of him to speak each one.  "We will be safe there, with Jon." Each word he spoke was hushed, thank the old and new gods for it, since you would not want to know what could possibly happen if Ramsay were to overhear.  

"In a fortnight I will come to your chambers and we will make our escape," you whispered in return, placing a gentle kiss upon his forehead before turning to leave.  "Be ready." With that, you made your way with haste back to report to the cruel man you served, making sure he was to know that you had completed your task.  

What you had not heard as you walked out of Reek's cell was that small bit of the old Theon, holding a broken, hushed tone as he let the words slip from his mouth for the first time.  He may have assumed that you would not hear him regardless, but he felt the need to say them as he watched your broken figure walk away from him. The two of you were in rough shape, counting the days that either of you would be able to withstand the barbarous treatment from Ramsay Bolton.  He hoped to the old gods and new that you were right - that the two of you could escape the callous treatment you received.  

His mouth uttered the words in a way that they fell with care from his shaken mouth, saying, "I love you, Y/N," paired with Reek's stutter.  Something about his recollection of you had brought some of Theon to the forefront of his mind, attempting to stash away the Reek that Ramsay Bolton had created of him.  

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