TRIGGER WARNING: near the end of the chapter is a brief rape scene. If that is an issue for anyone reading, I apologize and suggest you not read this chapter. I will be happy to provide a summary of the chapter to anyone who does not wish to read this chapter due to the scene mentioned above.

Theon

He was cowering in the corner of Lord Bolton's solar in the Dreadfort. Lord Bolton and his Master were standing and discussing the capture of Moat Cailin. Reek had been quaking in fear ever since Theon had made an appearance at Moat Cailin. Fear that his Master would know he was still Theon. Worse still, his Master was in a good mood. Whenever his Master was in a good mood, he liked to "celebrate" by taking pieces of him.

"You did well to take Moat Cailin," Roose told his son. "What happened to the Ironborn that were there?"

"They were enemies of the North. I treated them as such," Ramsay replied.

"You flayed them?"

"That is our banner for a reason, Father."

"My banner. You're a Snow. Or have you forgotten?"

"No, Lord Bolton. I would never forget that."

"Good. But you need not remember it any longer." Taking a scroll from his desk, Roose held it out to Ramsay. "This is an edict from the King. You are a Snow no longer. By order of King Joffery Baratheon, from this day until your last day, you are Ramsay Bolton, my trueborn son and heir."

Ramsay seemed to almost swell with pride before replying, "Thank you, Father. This means a great deal to me."

"There's more as well. If we are to secure our claim to the North, we need to solidify our claim to Winterfell over Ned Stark's bastard. So, I have something else for you as well."

Saying that, Roose gestured to the guard inside the door with his chin who nodded and stepped out of the solar before returning a moment later. With him was a girl with brown eyes and dark hair. Reek felt his eyes widen in recognition. He knew her. Well, Theon had.

"Ramsay Bolton," Roose continued, "I give you Arya Stark, your bride."

Wait. Arya? That wasn't Arya. That was Jeyne Poole, Sansa's friend and the daughter of Lord Stark's steward.

Ramsay gave "Arya" a smile. Reek knew that smile. It was predatory and anticipatory. His stomach churned. He knew what his Master would do to Jeyne. Gods, what would he do to her if he knew she wasn't really Arya? Reek kept his head bowed and his eyes fixed solidly on the floor at his feet. He couldn't let his Master know the truth about Jeyne. Not until Ramsay ordered him to tell.

"Lady Stark. Welcome. I look forward to getting to know you better. I know this is likely as much a shock to you as it is to me. But I promise, I will make you happy."

"Th-Thank you, My Lord. I-I will do my best to make you happy," "Arya" told Ramsay.

"You'll wed tonight in the Godswood," Lord Bolton said. "Lady Dustin and Lord Ryswell will be here later today to witness your wedding."

"Thank you, Father. I look forward to it."

"Go prepare for your wedding. I'm sure Lady Stark has much to do before being wed tonight."

Nodding to his father, Ramsay turned to Reek and said, "Come along Reek. You must prepare me for tonight."

In a broken voice, full of terror and subservience, he replied, "Yes, Master."

As his Master strutted down the corridor with his chest puffed out, his new station making him even more arrogant and self-assured, Reek meekly followed behind him with his eyes cast down on the floor. Did the Bolton's really think that Jeyne Poole could pass for Arya? Especially with Jon alive and laying claim to Robb's crown? Did Lord Bolton know that the girl wasn't Arya?

Ramsay suddenly stopped and turned to face him and said, "Reek. I've just had a wonderful idea. Why don't you help Lady Arya prepare for tonight? I can manage without you, but this is a strange place for my bride and she would take comfort in having a familiar face to assist her in her preparations for tonight."

"Yes, Master," Reek replied while bobbing his head. As Reek hobbled off towards Jeyne's, he meant Arya's, chamber, he could feel his Master watching him. Reek started to tremble in fear. His Master must sense Theon inside him. Finally his Master turned and walked off towards his own chambers.

Hobbling along until he reached Jeyne's, no, that's wrong. He must always think of it as Lady Arya's chamber/cell, he knocked on the door before opening it and limping his way inside. Jeyne was sitting on the edge of the bed and sobbing quietly. Reek felt something he hadn't felt in a long time: anger. What did she have to cry about? What could she possibly have suffered through compared to him? She had no idea what true torture was.

"My Lady," Reek said in his broken voice with his face turned towards the floor.

Jeyne looked up quickly, startled at the interruption. The distraught girl had been so absorbed in her own misery that she hadn't even noticed when Reek had entered the room.

"My Lady, my Master has commanded me to help you prepare for your wedding this evening. He...he felt that a familiar face might make things easier on you."

A familiar face? Hah! He looked to have aged forty years since Jeyne had last seen him. His own flesh and blood wouldn't recognize him now. How in the seven hells would Jeyne, someone he barely knew, recognize him? And even if she did, why would she want anything to do with him? It was then that realization dawned on Reek. This was meant to be the start of his Master's torture of the girl. Even his own wife would not be spared his sick and twisted attentions. Idly, Reek wondered what bits and pieces he intended to remove from Jeyne.

He could see the confusion on Jeyne's face. She clearly had no idea who he was. He would have to tell her. But how? He wasn't Theon. He was Reek. And she didn't know Reek, only Theon. He began to quiver in fear of what his Master would do to him when he discovered that he had failed. And his Master would find out. He always found out.

From deep within him, Theon awoke and shoved Reek aside. Theon was disgusted with Reek. Ramsay had broken him so thoroughly that he was completely incapable of doing anything beyond what Ramsay ordered him to. Now that he was in control again, he would have to see the mewling wretch of a creature that Reek was through yet another crises.

Looking up at Jeyne, Theon said in a soft voice lest others hear, "My name is Theon Greyjoy, Lady Poole. I was the Ward of Lord Stark. Now I'm the prisoner and servant of Lord Ramsay. He intends to torture you much as he did me. He believes you to be Arya Stark. What better way to torture you than forcing you to accept help from someone you have every reason to want dead? And it won't stop here. Ramsay is a monster and he will make you wish for death every day that you remain alive."

For a brief instant, Theon saw a fire burn in Jeyne's eyes as she remembered who he was and what he had done to her childhood home. But it was quickly extinguished and she hung her head. In a whisper so soft Theon had to strain to hear her, she said, "Then he can do nothing that hasn't already been done to me in Littlefinger's whorehouse. I already wish for death every day and I've already been subjected to more torture than you will know. I've been raped, with my mouth and my ass used to provide pleasure for anyone that Littlefinger forced on me. And if I refused, I was whipped until I was bloody and passed out. And then I would be used anyway. I know what monsters are. Ramsey can do no worse to me than has already been done."

Theon slowly shook his head. Jeyne truly had no idea what was coming for her. For as awful as her life had been up till now, it was about to get far, far worse. Ramsay was a horrible monster far beyond anything Jeyne could ever imagine even in her worst nightmares. Ramsay would likely spare her face, he would need that intact, it was the supposed face of Ned Stark's daughter. But the rest of her would be endlessly and mercilessly tortured.

"Lady Poole, I know this will not be comfortable for you, but Ramsay has ordered that I prepare you for your wedding tonight. I'll draw a bath for you. You can wash while I prepare your clothes and help you dress."

Jeyne just meekly nodded her acquiescence. Gods, Theon thought. She really had been broken by Littlefinger, hadn't she? What would Ramsay do to her now? He couldn't kill her. At least not until she gave him an heir. But gods, her life would be hell until then. Theon really didn't know what he could do to help her. He tried to think of ways he could help as he prepared her bath, but everything he thought up only got them killed or required him to do things that he was no longer physically capable of. Like swing a sword or draw a bow.

As he hobbled his way back into Lady Poole's bedchamber, Theon felt his breath catch in his throat. Jeyne had partially disrobed and had her back turned toward him. Her back was nothing but a mass of scars. She truly had been whipped mercilessly. There was not a single piece of unbroken skin on her back.

"My Lady," Theon said. "Your bath is ready."

"Thank you," Jeyne said softly.

The rest of the preparations for the wedding tonight went by in a blur. Mostly because Theon was waging a war within his own head to keep that disgusting creature Reek out. While still having to act like Reek. It was tearing him apart inside. He didn't know how much longer he would be able to remain as Theon before Ramsay finally completely broke him and turned him into Reek permanently.

And Ramsay's torture of Jeyne only got worse as the night progressed. At her wedding, Ramsay had forced him to give Jeyne away. The Northmen present, well, they all agreed that Ramsay had given him exactly what he deserved. If only they knew. Even these hard bastards would be revolted by what Ramsay had done.

It wasn't until the dinner feast that Theon began to feel a glimmer of hope. While serving Ramsay and "Arya" at the head table, he overheard Lord Ryswell tell Lord Bolton that Jon had retaken Winterfell. Apparently, the castle had been left abandoned after Ramsay burned it. If he could get Jeyne away from Ramsay, they could run for Winterfell. But he would need to do it quickly, before Reek could take him over again.

Shortly afterwards, Ramsay had him escort his bride to his bed chamber. As Theon brought "Arya" to Ramsay's chamber, he could hear the girl sobbing softly. She knew that she was about to be raped again. This time, he felt compassion for her. He couldn't imagine what she was feeling now.

As Theon brought Jeyne into Ramsay's chamber, he heard his "Master" enter right behind them. No bedding ceremony for Ramsay then.

"Ah, My Lady," Ramsay said. "It pleases me to see you here. Do you know what is expected of you tonight?"

"I...I've had training, My Lord," "Arya" replied.

Theon could guess exactly what kind of training she'd had, being forced into one of Littlefinger's whorehouses. Hells, the poor girl had already told him that she'd been forced to give her mouth and her ass to anyone Littlefinger told her to.

"Good," Ramsay told her. "Take off your clothes."

Jeyne darted a worried glance at Theon and then slowly, with trembling fingers, began to disrobe. Theon took the hint and slowly turned and took a step towards the door.

"No, Reek," Ramsay said. "You stay. I need a witness to me taking Lady Arya's maidenhead and putting an heir in her belly."

"Arya" froze at hearing that. Theon had warned her that she didn't know what Ramsay was capable of. Now she was learning first hand. Theon too froze. This was a new low, even for Ramsay.

"Yes, Master," Theon told him, using Reek's broken and miserable voice.

Turning back towards "Arya" Ramsay said, "Well, girl? I told you to remove your clothes. I'm not in the habit of repeating myself."

"S...S...Sorry, My Lord," Jeyne told him.

As she started to remove her garments again, Ramsay gave a frustrated huff, stood up from the chair he had sat down in, walked over to the terrified girl and sliced her clothes away from her with his knife, leaving her naked and trembling in the light from the fire. Roughly forcing his hand between the girl's thighs her groped her most intimate parts before pushing her away from him to land on the bed behind her.

"Gods girl," Ramsay exclaimed. "You're dry as a bone. Reek. Get over here 'Prince of Winterfell.' Why don't you use your right of first night with the bride?"

"M...Master? I...I...I have no...no..."

Slapping Theon across the face, Ramsay said, "Idiot. Prepare her for me. She's drier than the Dornish desert. Put that mouth of yours to work, Reek."

Giving Jeyne an apologetic look, Theon lowered his mouth to her sex and began to pleasure her. Despite Jeyne's obvious horror and fear, she began to get wet and an occasional moan even escaped her lips. Theon always had been good at this. Just as he was about to make Jeyne climax, Ramsay ripped him away from his bride, grabbed her hips and thrust himself inside her with one cruel, savage stroke, tearing her maidenhead and fully impaling her on his manhood.

Turning his head away, Theon saw that he had landed next to the pile of clothes that Ramsay had discarded. And among the clothes, was Ramsay's belt with his knife in it's sheath. Jeyne's screams as she was savagely and brutally raped seemed to stir something within him. Looking quickly at Ramsay, he saw that the sadistic bastard was fully engrossed in the rape of his bride.

Easing the dagger from its scabbard and slipping it into his rags, he stood slowly. As he stood, the tip of the blade pierced his flesh and the brief flash of pain seemed to galvanize him and let him keep Reek away, despite the wretch's mewling and begging him not to do this, to let him take over again. Instead Theon got shakily to his feet. He was only a foot or two away from where Ramsay was furiously rutting in Jeyne's cunt.

Slipping the knife from what passed for his pants, Theon lunged at Ramsay and slammed the dagger into the side of Ramsay's neck. Ripping the blade forward with every ounce of strength he had left in his ruined body, Theon felt his tormentor's throat split open and his hot blood gush out over his hand. On the bed, Jeyne had a horrified look on her face as Ramsay's blood sprayed over her naked body, staining her skin red.

Ramsay, clutching at his ruined throat fell to his knees, his rapidly deflating cock falling from Jeyne's abused sex. With a shocked look on his face, the evil bastard tried to grasp at Theon. Instead, Theon spat in his face before burying the dagger up to its hilt in Ramsay's eye. His "Master" fell to the floor, dead before his head hit it.

Ripping the dagger free of Ramsay's eye, Theon threw clothes at Jeyne and grabbed Ramsay's belt. Wrapping it around himself, he slid the knife back into the scabbard. Looking back at the shocked girl, Theon told her, "Get dressed. Hurry. We have to run. They'll kill us both if we stay."

Finally coming out of her stupor, Jeyne began to dress while Theon tied the bedding into a rope. Fortunately for him, Ramsay's chamber was on the wall of the Dreadfort. His father had not yet moved him into the inner keep as would befit his new station as the heir of the Dreadfort. Throwing the improvised rope out the window, Theon urged Jeyne to hurry, that they didn't have much time.

As the two struggled out the window and down the rope, Theon was in agony. His broken body lacked the strength for this. What strength he did have had largely been expended in killing Ramsay. That thought at least brought a smile to his face. The look of shock and betrayal on Ramsay's face as he died would be a cherished memory for the rest of his days.

Halfway down the rope, Theon's strength gave out. He fell the remaining distance to the ground. Hitting the ground, he felt the air rush out of his lungs. While he was struggling to suck in a breath, Jeyne reached the ground beside him. Fighting his way to his feet, Theon pointed to the woods in the direction of Winterfell. Wheezing, Theon said, "That way. We have to run. They'll turn the hounds out soon."

Hobbling as fast as he could, Theon and Jeyne fled into the woods, leaving the Dreadfort, and Ramsay's rapidly cooling corpse, behind them.