[debut]

[farfromthesea]

Theon.

Bodies of those dead and living litter the ground in the godswood, and with Bran’s eyes iced over and distant, Theon knows himself to be alone. His arrows are long gone, and with them the possibility to halting the advance of the Night King’s guard, the Night King himself. Theon’s kept himself and the shell of Bran alive with his spear, but he can feel the Night King arrive even before the second truest monster he’s ever known shows his undead face.

There could never be a monster like the one that’s already met his end in Winterfell, not for Theon Greyjoy.

If he’s honest, the first Theon Greyjoy died under Winterfell too.

If he’s honest, the Theon he is now will die at Winterfell before very long, and though he can think of plenty of ways he might like to live, he can’t think of a better way to die.

You’re a good man.

He hears Bran’s voice and turns, and whatever Bran is now, he knows to give him confirmation of the only question Theon still struggles to answer. Only the heat in his eyes tells him that he cries to be given this benediction; his face has long lost the ability to feel.

Theon lets himself take one last look at the heart tree, with long and white limbs, the fiery red leaves caught in a winter wind. He thinks of another time when he’d stood in front of it, not even a man, let alone a good one.

Thank you.

Only one choice left now, only one more charge.

If it buys Winterfell, if it buys his family, even a few moments, then his life will be worth more than it ever has been. He could not imagine anything mattering more.

The Night King steps forward, his Walkers behind him, and the fire raging through Winterfell behind them. Theon adjusts his hand on his spear, and before he can think a moment longer, he charges forward, screaming into the long night.

He runs for longer than he thinks he will, and then his spear buckles, breaks under the Night King’s hands. More than the pain, he registers the soft punch of the spear going through his middle. He looks up, at dead, malevolent eyes, and when he drops, it’s into darkness.

He wants to look at the heart tree when he dies, see the red against the white limbs, the sky, but it’s dark. Theon falls a long, long way through the darkness, and the moment he realizes he’s only dying, not dead, he realizes he’s no longer in the godswood.

There’s grass under his cheek.

It’s warm.

Comments

[myfavoritedream]

"Yeah, I don't know how the fuck I'm supposed to do that when you're wearing armor," I muttered, sliding a leg under his head, my other knee against his back, keeping him tipped up on his side, so the longer end of spear stays off the ground.

The call finally connected and I rattled off the address, talking with the dispatcher, who basically told me the same thing.

The back side looked the worst, blood oozing from the torn edges of his armor plate. Setting the phone down in the grass, I yanked off my shirt, wrapping it as gently as I could around the spear to try and staunch some of the blood and keep it still.

Through the phone's speakers, I could hear the dispatcher's tinny voice trying to keep me calm. I ignored it. "They're like, three minutes out, man. You gotta just hang on."

[farfromthesea]

Theon can't figure it out, who this man is, and where he is. It's not the first time he's been badly injured, floating on the edge of death and sanity, but somehow it's become the strangest. At least his new companion seems to be in contact with others, and is able to keep the weight off his wound.

Three minutes.

Theon fades in and out of awareness, but as he tries to last these three minutes, he can hear himself mumbling raggedly. "I wanted to die in the godswood. I wanted to see the tree. Can't see Sansa, she needs to be safe. Did you see the Night King? Where's all the snow?"

While fully formed thoughts when in his head, he sounds far less coherent, with a little more gurgling.

[myfavoritedream]

"You're not gonna die," I said, a promise I knew I couldn't keep, because he was pale and rigid with pain and gurgling on his own blood.

"It's not gonna make a whole lot of sense, if I try and explain it to you right now," I said, pushing his hair back from his face. He was dirty, splattered with blood and soot, plucked right out of the middle of battle.

"Everything's fine, man. I'm sure she's safe. You just gotta stay awake right now," I said, looking at him upside down, his head resting on my thigh. He looked like he was about to drift again, and I gave his cheek a tap with my palm. "Come on, eyes open. I can hear 'em coming."

In the distance, there were sirens. Unless he was in the middle of a fuckin' cosplay session gone wrong, he was about to be really fucking freaked out by the ambulance, but there was nothing I could do about that.

[farfromthesea]

Theon tries and fails to place the accent, vaguely registering the stranger's similarly unrecognizable clothing. But the man's touch is gentle enough that Theon lets himself believe, believe that the stranger has him in a place away from winter, that Sansa is safe, that he will live long enough to make any sense of this.

How much he wants to sleep, though he supposes if he does, he'll just wake up again, bleeding out in another strange place. He jerks a little at the tap to the face, though his eyes focus, like he's really seeing the stranger for the first time.

"Who are you?" he croaks. "Do I hear horns?" There are strange lights in the edges of his vision, and a roar. "Don't tell me there are more-- more dragons."

[myfavoritedream]

"No dragons. At least not today," I said, trying to keep his focus on me instead of the approaching ambulance. "They're here to help, okay? It's all going to seem really fucking weird, but trust me, it's okay."

He had no reason to trust me, of course, but if he got spooked, all he was going to do was make himself worse, and stranger or not, I didn't actually want to watch some guy bleed out in the vacant lot by our apartment.

"My name's Neil," I said, glancing towards the ambulance as it pulled up to the curb, two EMTs hustling out. "I was just on my way past. It's my lucky day, I guess." I managed a smirk, staying put even as the EMTs rushed over, their eyes a little wide as they took in the scene.

"Little help?" I asked, giving the first one, a woman, a thin-lipped smile.

[farfromthesea]

"I don't think the dragons were much help," Theon says, voice thready, trying to hold on even as stranger things begin to happen around him. "Whole battle plan was--" He has to stop, take a deep rattling breath.

"Neil," he repeats, trying to push his attention back to the current moment. "I'm Theon. Who are they?" They appear to be-- healers, of some sort.

"Neil," he says again. "Where am I? This isn't Winterfell." He can taste his own blood, and growing panic. "I fell. The battle was still--" He breaks off as the EMTs begin to get him ready to move.

[myfavoritedream]

They start trying to shove me aside, working quickly to secure the spear. Another truck pulled up, a small fire engine, and a guy with a pair of what looked like garden sheers hurried over. Jesus Christ.

I wanted to tell them to back off, to give him room to breathe, to at least give him a second to understand what was going on, but I also knew there wasn't really time for that. They spoke to him clearly, explaining what was happening to him, assuring him they were there to help, but I doubted it would've made a whole lot of sense, even without all the blood loss.

"Fuck off," I hissed, when they told me to step aside, but the firefighter— a huge motherfucker with arms as big around as my head, yanked me up by the elbow. "You need to step aside," he said calmly, pointing me over just a few feet away.

"You're in a place called Darrow," I said, trying to stay where he could see me. It took the two EMTs to hold him still while the firefighter clipped the spear off closer to his body, so it wouldn't get knocked in the ride over. With that over, the two guys rushed to bring over the stretcher, the woman crouching to quickly running an IV line out of the back of Theon's hand and giving him what I fucking hoped was some strong pain killers. "The battle's still going on with out you, man. I'm sorry."

[farfromthesea]

Theon tries to keep his head above the waves of darkness that keep threatening. He knows he should try to stay awake; somehow he is still alive, and Neil's said the battle continues. They put a needle in his hand and if he were able, he'd jerk away. He's had all sorts of needles in him before, and he hates them.

Before he can struggle, a wave of distant calm washes through him. The pain starts to subside, but he's having a more and more difficult time reaching for thought, for words. "Neil," he calls, his voice wet. "The godswood is undefended now." He's going under the waves again, warm and dark. "The crypts. Sansa."

Then the ocean swallows him.