[ Theon had pulled a knife on Ramsay the first time they met here, and he had been unable to bring himself to use it. He had been more confident in himself then, but he’s already turned into someone altogether different. Ramsay has hardly even gotten his claws into him and he’s already a meeker, confused man, more lost than he ever was in Winterfell.
It should have been Robb, he can’t help but think as he tries to regain some of that old confidence, lifting his chin. It's a poor facade. He isn’t frightened by Ramsay, but he is frightened by his own memories. Who or what is he to trust? ]
I don’t believe in gods.
[ He’s never said it out loud. Having an uncle who’s a drowned priest, being surrounded by Northmen who believe—it was never something you said. ]
You never told me who or what started the fire in Winterfell.
no subject
It should have been Robb, he can’t help but think as he tries to regain some of that old confidence, lifting his chin. It's a poor facade. He isn’t frightened by Ramsay, but he is frightened by his own memories. Who or what is he to trust? ]
I don’t believe in gods.
[ He’s never said it out loud. Having an uncle who’s a drowned priest, being surrounded by Northmen who believe—it was never something you said. ]
You never told me who or what started the fire in Winterfell.