Chapter Text
302 AC, The Free Cities…
“I don’t like leaving her.” His wife said. It felt weird to think of her as such, but Theon tried not to let it get to him. His marriage had always been one of necessity, not love, not convenience, necessity. Safety. He had to keep her safe. Her and Rory. They were all he had now. And despite not being in love with his wife, he did love her. She was his greatest friend.
“I know. Me neither. But we need to.” Theon responds. They’re leaving the Free Cities today. Taking the Seaflower and sailing home to the Iron Islands. And they need to leave soon. Now. They’re walking towards the dock as they speak.
“We didn’t even say a proper goodbye.” She laments.
“Daenerys…” Theon struggles for wording. He’s still not used to putting care into how he articulates things. Myrcella and Tommen were always so proper, you’d think after spending so much time with them he would be too, but no. He frowns when he realizes they didn’t say a proper goodbye to them either. They said goodbye, but they thought they had more time. It was them that was supposed to be leaving soon. Not Theon and his family. But alas, the tide had turned. “She’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. We’ll come back one day, when it’s safe to do so, we’ll bring Rory and we’ll see her again. But we have to leave now and I know you know this.”
She nods, and at the mention of her name, his daughter looks over at him, outstretching her arms for him to grab her. He readjusts what he’s already holding so that he can do that and holds her close.
Himself, his wife and his daughter board the ship, followed by the crew, and then they set sail. For home. The Iron Islands hadn’t felt like Theon’s home for most of his life, but it was his home for true, now that his father was dead.
—
Pyke, The Iron Islands, several months later…
The journey to Pyke is not a perilous one like Theon thought it would be. The wind is kind, the water smooth, and the weather pleasant, so Theon can’t think of anything bad that happened. Except for the fact that they reached the Iron Islands in record time. It’s strange to be back. As they reach the shore, Theon finds himself rather flustered, as familiarity and dread both begin to fill him.
He tries to stand up straighter, so that the Ironborn who can see him will see a proud man, a wise lord. He’s not sure if it’s working. He doesn’t think it is. Not until his wife walks to his side and takes his hand, intertwining their fingers.
“You’re my best friend,” She whispers to him, trying to be encouraging. “We'll get through this together.” She promises.
Theon nods his head and takes her hand in his. “We’ve survived greater odds.”
When the ship is docked, Theon grabs Rory, who’s been sleeping soundly, soothed by the sway of the sea, from the Captain’s quarters. She’s dressed in purple to match her eyes. Her mother’s eyes. An amethyst silk frock that Lady Myrcella had gifted to them before they parted. Something for her to grow into, Myrcella had said, and now she had.
The dress is embroidered with a combination of Rory’s parent’s sigils. The mix of silver and gold looks a little striking to Theon’s eyes, but his daughter wears it well. She’ll grow to be as beautiful as her mother in time, Ser Barristan had remarked. But he had only met her the once.
His wife, too, is dressed to match her eyes, making her dress more of a violet shade. Made of gossamer and silk and much better suited for the warmer climate of the South, the straps of the purple gown barely cover her shoulders and the skirt doesn’t quite reach the floor like it should. But still, she looks beautiful, in a way that’s almost hauntingly similar to someone that Theon used to know. Someone very near and dear to his heart. He tries not to think of her nowadays. It’s easier that way.
Turning to Lady, who had been patiently guarding Rory’s bassinet, Theon fixes the bow at her collar. The bow being the favor Sansa had made him years ago. Sansa. Just when he reminded himself not to think of her! It would do no good to do so. He was a married man. He was a father. And now he was a proper lord. He had responsibilities that far exceeded matters of the heart. She had probably moved on by now anyways. It’s the only reason he did. All those years and not a single word from her. No love letter or even a simple raven. He had originally thought she’d be all over that. That she’d spin their untimely separation into a romantic story to be told for centuries. One worthy of the songs. But he hadn’t heard a single tune about it, and he was not equipped to write one. There was a reason he favored paints and not pens.
He hadn’t even heard from Lord Eddard. No explanation as to why Theon was left behind. Theon had taken it as a sign to move on. And he had. Mostly. He still loved Sansa, a part of him thought he always would. But he loved more people now. There was his wife, his friends, his true friends, unlike Robb or Jon, who Theon hadn’t heard from in years as well. But most importantly, there was his daughter. Rory. He would do anything for her. Which is why he was coming home in the first place. To give her her best chance in life. In the Free Cities she was hidden, in Dorne she would have been a prize that one day several undeserving men would fight for, but in the Iron Islands, her ancestral home, she was a proper lady. Lady Aurora Rose of the Iron Islands. Theon wanted that for her. Going to Pyke would ensure her brightest future.
“I need to fix my hair before we go ashore,” his wife reminds him, and Theon nods while making a face at Rory and earning a soft giggle.
“Take your time,” Theon says. “Rory, Lady, and I will be waiting on the deck.”
By the time everyone’s ready, a larger crowd has gathered on the shore, awaiting his and his family’s arrival. Theon can recognize his mother and sister right away, and he thinks he sees his aunt as well, but he doesn’t see any of his uncles. Not even his Uncle Rodrik. His favorite uncle, from what he remembers.
His wife is now holding Rory, and Theon’s got his hand on her back and his other hand holding her free one so he can help guide her off down and off the ship. Lady follows close behind, on high alert now that they’re somewhere new.
Theon wastes no time, he walks straight towards his mother and sister, unable to help the smile on his face at seeing them again. It takes a moment to reach them, given his wife’s state, but the people around him are so mesmerized to see him again, after all this time, that they’re momentarily patient for a change.
“Mother! Sister!” Theon says in greeting, before his mother engulfs him in a tight hug.
“My baby boy,” she whispers. “You came home.” Theon nods, and lets her hug him even after the hug has run its course.
“Who are they?” Asha asks with a smirk as she pulls Theon into a quick side hug.
“Mother, Asha,” Theon starts, taking a deep breath before continuing. “This is my wife, Lady Aurora, and our daughter, Rory.”
“Wife?” Asha questions, but before he can clarify, his mother engulfs Aurora into a hug.
“It’s so lovely to meet you, my dear!” She says meaningfully. “And you too, dearest!” She smiles down at her granddaughter. “Come, my sister and I will get the two of you situated and Asha can fill Theon in on all he needs to know.”
His mother begins to walk off, his wife, daughter, and aunt following after her, and after a beat, Theon sends Lady to go with them too. Extra protection, should they need it.
“She’s too pretty for you,” Asha says immediately when they’re alone. Well, not alone, Ironborn still surround them, but none are close enough to hear.
Theon grins. “I’ve missed you, sister.”
“Aye. Now, be a proper lord and address your people.” Asha says, turning and looking at the Ironborn, finally acknowledging all of them. Theon gulps, he’s unsure what to say, but he knows he needs to speak, and so he does.
—
Later that night, after a haphazard feast, Theon found himself in his father’s old chambers that now belong to him. He doesn’t like it at all, and tried to get another room by gifting this one to his mother, but she refused to let him give her a ‘gift so grand’ as she had put it. So Theon was stuck in this large and dark and shaggy room, but at least he had Aurora and Rory with him.
Rory should be in the nursery, but Theon felt uneasy about leaving her alone, so he had a bassinet brought in and put it in the closet, which was better described as a small room. It had two windows and was far too spacious for the little amount of clothes Theon and his wife had combined. That may change in time, but by then Rory will be old enough for a more proper chamber anyway.
“Your mother is having us get fitted for new clothes tomorrow morning. She thinks we need things more suited for the water and weather.” Aurora tells him as she brushes her hair. Theon nods his head in agreement.
“You’ll miss your old dresses,” Theon tells her with a soft smile. “We don’t exactly wear silks on the Isle.”
Aurora smiles sadly, and sets the brush down. She adjusts Rory in her lap and begins to fix her hair. Not exactly brushing it, but helping it to be smooth.
“Do Rory and I need to wear all black now?” She asks.
“Sometimes. Not all. The both of you look too pretty in purple anyway. But maybe switch to gold instead of silver.” Theon says. Thinking about clothes, about fashion, is reminding him of Sansa. She would know exactly how to dress as the Lady of the Iron Islands. She’d look perfect, she’d look beautiful. That’s not to say Aurora won’t look beautiful either. He’d always found her quite entrancing. She had this look of doomed beauty, a sadness within her that made her shine instead of squander. Though of course, she’s much happier now. But things like this always came naturally to Sansa. Perhaps she’ll be a perfect lady wife to some Northern lord. More likely she already is, Theon thinks, but the thought feels bitter in his mind so he shoves it aside. “What did you think of my mother?” Theon asks. He is genuinely curious. His mother, her family, along with Asha, were some of the only good things he remembers of his childhood.
“She’s kind, and gentle, and pretty. She’s not as saddened as you made her seem.”
“She’s not as saddened as I remember her.” Theon agrees.
“She told me to call her Mother if I wanted to,” Aurora confesses with a shy smile. Theon smiles back in return, and Aurora continues. “I told her I think I’d like that.”
Theon nods, and the mood shifts to somber. Too many girls never knew their mothers. Aurora’s mother died when she was young. Daenerys' mother died in her birth. Myrcella was torn from her mother at such a formative age. And Rory, well, there was a brief moment for her too where she was completely motherless. But that was over now. She had a mother and a grandmother, an aunt and a great-aunt. His daughter would not be lacking for a maternal figure the way he or the girls in his life did. It was a calming thought. It made the dread at being home almost feel bearable. And Aurora was sure that the rest of the dread would continue to disappear as time went on. Theon hoped that would be the case.
They go to bed soon, and just as Theon thought might happen, just as he hoped might happen, in his dreams he wakes as Seasmoke. It’s late in Winterfell, though not too late. The sky is a deep blue and speckled with glowing stars. Seasmoke is sitting on the ramparts of the great stronghold, and beside him, Sansa is there, stroking his fur. He turns his head to look at her better, and something on her hand catches his eye. It takes him a moment to register what it is, but once he does he’s taken aback. On her right hand is the ring he’d picked out for her. He had forgotten he’d given it to Lord Eddard to hold onto. For some reason, on the rare occasions he thought of the ring, he’d always thought he’d lost it at some point during all the scuffle that was leaving King’s Landing. But no, he’d given it to Lord Stark, and sometime in the last five years, Lord Stark had given it to Sansa. Why? Why would he do that?
Theon startles out of Seasmoke’s skin, and bolts upright in bed. His skin is lightly peppered in sweat, despite the open window letting the ocean air into the room. He looks beside him, and his wife is sleeping soundly. Letting out peaceful, quiet snores every few seconds. On the other side of the wall, his daughter is fast asleep as well.
He needs to let go of Sansa. Once and for all. It’s the best case scenario for everyone involved.
The water winds are strong tonight, and the curtains are flapping rather abruptly. Lady is perched just in front of the window, staring at the curtains, watching them dance. He’ll never let go of Sansa while he has Lady. Not completely. Certainly not when she has Seasmoke. He needs to exchange the wolves. Winterfell isn’t far from here. He could go and be back in less than a month if he wanted to be especially quick. He could even bring Aurora and Rory, another little adventure before they settle down. It was Theon’s old home, too. He could bring his girls, and she could see her home. What could have been her home. Had everything been different.
Aurora shifts in her sleep, turning on her side and scooching closer to the center of the mattress. Theon lays back down, scooting closer as well and resting his hand atop her arm. Aurora stops moving around almost immediately, settling again into a blissful slumber. Theon does his best to fall back asleep as well.
The following day is busier than Theon could have thought it might be. All sorts of tasks and duties and things to learn, people to get reacquainted with.
And then, right after lunch, Asha pulls him aside to discuss a ‘private matter.’
“Your old friend, the Stark lord, has been sending you letters periodically over the years.” Asha informs him.
“Robb?” Theon asks, surprised.
Asha nods. “I wrote back after the second or third letter explaining you weren’t here and I had no way to get the letters to you, but he wrote back saying he’d continue to write anyway, so that you’d have word from him should you ever come back here.”
She hands over a stack of papers. “You read all of my letters?” He asks.
“Of course,” Asha shrugs, completely unashamed to admit it.
Theon picks up the top most letter, figuring it’s the most recent. It’s dated about four moons ago. It’s short and simple, to the point.
Theon,
I convinced Roslin to name our son after you. I figured you’d like to know that. He’s not born yet, but he will be any day. You should come visit him. I’d like him to meet his namesake.
Robb
Theon smiles at the raven, and then reads the next one, and the one after that. The next few are boring, so he flips through the stack to find an older one. And then another. Each is filled with some little update, either about Robb’s personal life or political matters that were relevant at the time they were written.
He’s happy to read them all, but he doesn’t have time for that. He promised Aurora and Rory he’d come check on them, and when he gets to his chambers he finds his mother with them as well, Rory in her lap, playing with a wooden figurine, and sitting next to Aurora, watching her embroider a piece of fabric Theon knows from this morning’s fitting that Aurora’s hoping to incorporate into a dress.
“Theon, my boy, there you are! We were just talking about you.” His mother greets.
“You were?” He asks, looking to Aurora for answers. She merely grins and wiggles her brows. So clearly they weren’t speaking in Theon’s favor.
He sets the stack of letters on his desk and then walks over to them. He crouches down and leans into Aurora, kissing her check, but really so he can be close enough to whisper and ask, “are you alright?” He’s not worried now that she’s with his mother, but earlier today she’d been around a lot of Ironborn and had seemed rather frazzled, but Theon had been unable to intervene and check on her.
She nods her head, smiling at him. “All good,” she promises.
He smiles back at her. “Well, I can’t stay long, I just wanted to check on my girls. I’ll see you all at supper.”
He leaves them be and goes to meet up with his Uncle Dagmer and old friend, Tristifer. They go over the matters they need to, and then go for a drink. He’s nearly late for supper. But he makes it there on time.
His mother wanted it to be an intimate matter tonight, so it’s just family. His mother, his Aunt Gwynesse, Uncle Rodrik, Uncle Aeron, Asha, Aurora, and Rory. There’s plenty of different fish, greens, and potatoes. Some sort of seedy bread that Aurora claims she loves. Theon ends up giving her his share of the bread as well, just to see her smile grow. He knows the Isles are not at all what she hoped they’d be. But he wants her to find happiness here, even if it comes from simple things like bread.
After supper, his mother takes Rory, saying she’ll put her to bed, and Theon and Aurora go for a walk along the rocky shore. Lady runs ahead of them, her feet moving in a steady little trot.
“What were all those letters for?” Aurora asks.
Theon offers her his hand to help her walk across a jagged stone. “My friend from Winterfell, Robb Stark. Apparently he’s been writing to me all this time.” Theon answers.
“Lady Sansa’s brother?” She questions, clearly pleased with herself. She lets go of his hand and jumps to the next stone, nearly stumbling but catching herself with grace.
Theon’s mouth pulls into a line. “Please don’t start that up again. It’s over between us. It has been for a long time.”
“But you said–”
“I think we should go to Winterfell.” Theon interrupts. “I’d like to get my wolf back. And we can give Lady Sansa hers. Robb technically invited me in his most recent letter, so I could write back saying I’m taking him up on his offer. He’s going to name his son after me!” He grins.
“How romantic!” Aurora pretends to swoon. Theon chuckles. He doesn’t mind it when she teases him. He never has, even when they’d first met and he’d still been a bit of a grump. Her jests have only ever made him want to smile. Besides, through an unromantic lens, he is touched that his old friend wishes to name his son after him. It erases away some of the thoughts Theon had had that Robb was okay with his father leaving him behind.
“Winterfell was my home for some time. It could have been Rory’s, had things worked out differently. I want Rory to see it, at least once. Even if she can’t remember it. We can go for a few weeks, exchange the wolves, show Rory where I grew up, you can see some snow, and winter roses. I can see some…old friends.”
“Okay.” She agrees easily. “But we can’t go yet. We only just got here. Write back to your friend and tell him we begin our journey in three moons.”
“Yes D–dear,” Theon answers. He’s never really called her that before, but it just sort of slipped out and he had to commit to it.
“Dear?” Aurora questions teasingly. Theon can feel himself blush.
“Yeah, I know, I don’t like it either. I’ll work out something else to call you.” He says quickly. Aurora’s still giggling at him though, so Theon charges at her playfully and throws her over his shoulder, before running to the waves.
“Theon!” She screams, but she’s not angry. She’s laughing happily as Theon begins to wade in the water. “Put me down!” She asks, not thinking of the implications.
“Okay,” he shrugs, and he quickly leans her towards the water, dipping the tip of her hair first, and then dunking her under.
“Theon!” She squeals again when she’s surfaced. She splashes him with water and he laughs. They stay like that, swimming and splashing until the sun has set. That’s another one of the few things Theon had missed about his homeland. Sunsets on the shore.
The sky turns orange and purple first, before shifting to darkness that cloaks the land and the sea. He’ll have to paint it sometime. It would do him good to do so soon. The last painting he’d done had been of Sansa, and he needed to escape that frame of mind.
When the stars come out, shining down on the land and the sea, he and Aurora stop their commotion to sit and watch. They think of home, their old home. Be it Sunspear, Starfell, the Free Cities, or any of the other places they had been these last few years. They think of their old friends, family, and Theon hopes he made the right choice in bringing the three of them here. Perhaps they would have been safer in Essos? Perhaps they would have been happier there?
Theon looks to his side only to see Aurora already looking at him. He can tell all the same questions are running through her mind. If he’s worrying about it, she’ll only grow more anxious, so he wishes his fears away and grins at his wife.
After a moment's pause, she smiles back.
They’ll be fine. They have each other and that’s enough. Soon, he’ll get his wolf back, and he’ll feel even more assured. But he’ll also have to see Sansa again, and while his heart is floating the idea that it’s a good thing, his mind is a strong current crashing against it. Time will tell which part of him will win that battle. All he knows is he wants Seasmoke back, and he’ll have to see Sansa to accomplish that. It’s almost as frightening as it is exciting, the idea of seeing her again after all of this time.