[ In Theon’s mind, fathers are just like that. They beat their sons. Ned Stark was the rare father who didn’t. It isn’t the slap that wounded him so deeply, but the way his father belittled him, hurt his pride, and spoke to him as though he wasn’t his son at all.
Theon simply laughs again. He’s trying so hard to build up his walls once more, but they crumble around him each time. With every attempt at a smile, he collapses. ]
No.
[ He snaps, clearly agitated. His hands are shaking, he still hasn’t taken that deep breath, and he’s still searching for a place to run. ]
Ten years. I was--I was gone for ten years. He greeted me as he would greet a thrall.
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Theon simply laughs again. He’s trying so hard to build up his walls once more, but they crumble around him each time. With every attempt at a smile, he collapses. ]
No.
[ He snaps, clearly agitated. His hands are shaking, he still hasn’t taken that deep breath, and he’s still searching for a place to run. ]
Ten years. I was--I was gone for ten years. He greeted me as he would greet a thrall.