Zokla | Theon Greyjoy

Chapter 12

Theon refused to leave the kennels.

Lyarra was informed by Anni after Maester Wolkan had unsuccessfully told Theon of the Bolton mass-poisoning. Theon didn't believe it– he thought it a trick, a test from Ramsay. Thus, the lady of the household would need to convince him herself.

She held up her skirts as she entered the kennels, who no longer barked at her. "Anni," she called, the girl lingering behind carrying Minisa. "Please inform the others that from now on, these dogs will be fed regularly and they will never again have human flesh."

She nodded and left. Lyarra went to the last cage in the row, staring through the bars at Theon, who glanced at her skeptically and turned away.

"Reek," she said gently, giving up on her attempt to hold up her skirt and simply kneeling beside him. "Maester Wolkan was not lying. Ramsay isn't here anymore. He can't hurt you."

"He'll hurt," said Theon softly. "He does it. If you don't do what he says, he hurts you."

"I know that. He used to be able to do such things. But he's gone now and so are his Bolton men. It's just us now. Would you like to go for a walk? I can show you that they are not here."

He turned his head, but did not budge. "It isn't a trick," she said. She sat up, unlocking the door and opening it. She began to walk, beckoning him after her. "You can come along now or later, but I swear to you, all is well."

He began to follow once she reached the end of the kennels. Shoulders slumped forward, eyes tracking his feet, he trailed after her meekly. She waited for him at the entrance then continued on into the castle.

It was quiet. He noticed the servants removing the flayed bodies. "That could not happen unless Ramsay were gone," said Lyarra. "He cannot torment anyone anymore. Come, into the castle."

She led him through past the dining hall first, so he could see where the servants had covered the dead bodies with sheets. She walked him up to Ramsay's room, so he could see it was empty.

"This was your old room," she said, stopping in front of his chambers, now belonging to Lady Walda. "And this..." She beckoned him down the hall, closer to her door, "is your new one. Right next to me."

She pushed open the door and showed him the bath that was drawn. "That's for you," she said. She approached, dipping her fingers delicately into the water. "It's warm." She let him examine it as she brought forward a pile of clothes that'd been left on his bed. "And this is what you will wear. No more rags, Reek. Would you like me to help you bathe? If not, I could step out."

His hands shook as he tried to undress. "How did you do it? How did you..."

"After I was taken from Winterfell, an Ironborn named Dollen tried to take me back to the Iron Islands. Nana killed him, and then we were found by a kind witch named Maggy. She taught me about plants. Wait here, I'll show you."

When she returned with a smaller bag of seeds and a bowl, she found he'd already lowered himself into the water. He still flinched when she opened the door, but watched her curiously as she popped a floorboard under his bed and poured the seeds there, coiling her fingers to make the flowers sprout.

"I grew poison," she said. "I dosed Myranda with daffodils. I used tansy to keep myself from growing pregnant. I used chamomile to relax Ramsay and the dogs. And tonight I dosed everyone else. Winterfell is mine again– ours. Remember the story I told you, about Theon Greyjoy?"

His eyes flickered in recognition. "Yes. Ramsay had me pretend to be him to retake Moat Cailin." He cringed at his own words. "I was Theon Greyjoy. But not anymore. I am Reek."