[51] Promise of a Good Show

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I found myself standing in what had once been an old storage chamber under the Great Keep. It was a dark, cramped room lit by a single flickering torch. Shadows flickered across the stone walls, revealing cracks and chipped mortar that spoke of Winterfell’s age. This place was over 8,000 years old, after all.

I felt the cool underground air steady my thoughts as my lungs were filled with them. I was mostly done, except for this.

I had spent most of the morning settling the unrest. After Sansa reunited with Bran and Rickon, the people of the North went hunting for the remaining Ironborn. No shortage of them tried to hide in the corners and cellars of Winterfell, but all were found. Unlike my initial plan, I had them executed. What use were they, after all, if Theon Greyjoy was already in my hands?

Sansa had stood with me as I addressed Winterfell’s surviving folk. With her calm, resolute presence, the crowd settled, and we promised to hold the castle until proper order could be restored. A few questioned having a Targaryen in charge, but Sansa vouched for me, so they begrudgingly bowed their heads. I loved my wolf pup already.

No doubt some would remain wary, but I wouldn’t expect otherwise. For now, peace was held by a thread.

And that led me here, inside this dim corridor, facing Theon Greyjoy.

“Can't believe he's still unconscious in a situation like this,” I said, taking a look at him.

The fool was bound to a wooden chair, wrists tied behind him with rope thick enough to restrain a direwolf. He’d been unconscious when we dragged him down. Blood crusted near his temple where I’d struck him earlier, and his mouth hung slightly open, shallow breaths escaping.

I stood near his shoulder, Sansa close by my side. She stared at him, her expression one of anger and disappointment—perhaps betrayal. Although the last one had lost its edge by now. They’d grown up together once upon a time, so she felt betrayed, but she'd already come to accept that.

“What are we going to do with him?” Sansa asked, and I gestured my chin at her.

I approached the chair. My footsteps filled the hollow halls. I placed a hand on his shoulders and jerked him slightly. “Wake up, Greyjoy.”

Slowly, Theon’s eyelids fluttered. A low groan came from his throat. He shifted, then jerked upright, blinking furiously as he realized his predicament. Panic flashed across his face; his gaze darted around the dark room until it settled on us.

“You—” he rasped, voice scratchy. His eyes trembled when he recognized me. “This must be a bad nightmare. Yes. A Targaryen in Winterfell… a dragon… all that can’t be right.”

I let out a low, humorless laugh. “Are you truly that surprised, Greyjoy? It’s been an interesting turn of events, but it's not a dream.”

He flicked his gaze to Sansa, and some sort of desperate cunning lit in his eyes. “Sansa—listen to me,” he said, tone cracking into a plea. “This man… He can’t be trusted. He’s just using you and your family. Targaryens have always—”

I laughed, which cut off his words. “Look at this guy,” I said and slipped behind Sansa, sliding my arms around her waist. She stiffened at the public display, but she didn’t pull away. My chin rested on her shoulder, and she let out a shaky breath. “He thinks he can turn you against me,” I said, amused. “Isn't that funny, my dear?”

Theon’s face twisted. “W-What are you doing to her?!” he demanded, voice brimming with alarm.

Sansa managed a small squeak, turning her head slightly to look at me. “We’re— hey, someone is right in front of us—”

“And?” I gently turned her chin to face me better, ignoring Theon’s sputtering. “Why should humans care if a dog sees them mate?” Her eyes widened, and my lips met hers in a deliberate, unhurried kiss. She melted against me with a stifled moan.

“Mhm…” It was our first true kiss, more than a quick brush of lips on cheek, and the sensation of her warmth, the press of her body, flickered through me with satisfying heat. My hands tightened around her waist, feeling the heat of her flesh.

For a moment, it was as if Theon and the rest of the world ceased to exist.

She wiggled, pushing herself into me, her body craving my kiss. At one point, she started liking this. She started liking showing this side of her to the dog.

When the kiss broke, I kept my forehead lightly against hers, savoring her breath. “Your lips are delicious, Sansa.”

Theon let out a low growl. “You… you bastard—”

I returned my attention to him with a sly smirk. In the books, I heard that Theon dreamed of marrying Sansa. He must be losing his night right now. That’s when I noticed something else about him—an uncomfortable bulge in his trousers.

“Oh…?” I said with mocking sympathy. “Look at him. This Ironborn pig definitely had his eyes on you, Sansa, from the day he was a ward here. Look at that little tent. What a weird bastard. And you Stark kids considered him a brother.”

Sansa stiffened, then scowled in Theon’s direction. “You… you’re so disgusting! Even this aside, you killed two poor farm boys,” she snapped. “You loser, you piece of shit… You betrayed my family, Theon! My father believed in you—Robb believed in you. We all trusted you!”

Theon’s face twitched, shame warring with anger. “At least… at least they weren’t—” He swallowed. “Bran and Rickon. You should be grateful that I didn't kill your brothers!”

“What?” Sansa was stunned.

I moved in a blur, my fist cracking across his cheek. Theon shouted in pain, head snapping to the side. “You speak like that in front of me one more time, Greyjoy, and you will never speak again. Whether they were Stark boys or not, you still murdered innocent children. You’re in no place to defend yourself, or bait rage from Sansa.”

He glared back, bloody lips curling up in a sneer. “You’ll pay for this, lizard,” he spat, the corner of his mouth bleeding. “My sister, she’ll come for me. She's already been travelling for a while now. Asha is not like me, she’s stronger, and her Ironborn men are—”

“Ah. Asha, is it?” I mused aloud, stepping beside Sansa once more. My hands drifted along her waist, drawing a small whimper from her. “Good. That’s what I needed to know. That's why I came to you. How nice of you to tell me about the Ironborn’s next plans so easily. Very good. But Theon, do you really expect your sister to defeat my dragon?”

He froze, realizing he’d just handed me a vital piece of intelligence. Anger flared in his eyes, but no words came.

Smiling, I leaned into Sansa’s ear. “You should go, baby,” I murmured. “Let me finish with him. We don’t want you to see things you’d regret.”

She swallowed, color high on her cheeks. “I… Fine,” she said softly, glancing at his bound form one last time before stepping away from me. The door creaked as she left, leaving only me and the prisoner, along with the quiet drip of water from somewhere in the darkness.

I watched her retreating figure for a heartbeat, savoring that bright red flush across her face, and the sway of her full hips. I loved that she was already an adult in this world, it was much better to look at.

I turned to Theon, who glared defiantly despite the ropes biting into his wrists. “Now that we're alone…”

“What… what will you do to me?”

“Oh no, don't get me wrong. I didn't send her away to torture you. I just want to tell you something that I can't in front of her,” I smiled.

“...What is it?”

“Let your sister come,” I said lightly. “I’ll be waiting for this Asha. And you, Theon,” I laughed, stepping closer, letting him see the glint in my eyes. “Since you like to watch so much, you’ll have a front-row seat to the show. To what I'll do to your dear, strong, sister.”

Theon's lips pressed into a thin line, fear, frustration and dread visible in the set of his jaw.

I ran a hand over the stubble of his scalp in a mock-pitying gesture. This was fun. “Just be patient,” I told him. Then, with that, I spun and strode out of the room, leaving Theon alone in the darkness to seethe.

Outside, the torchlit corridor smelled faintly of old stone and dust. I paused, collecting my thoughts, already forming new plans for dealing with Asha Greyjoy.

“Hey, you're out…” Sansa was waiting, flustered by our little display earlier. A smile touched my lips.

One more loose end to tie up. Admittedly, I should deal with Sansa properly before Asha’s Ironborn forces came.

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