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Theon had prayed to the old gods and the new that he would be spared the moment he stepped back into Winterfell. The people he had hated were long gone for the most part…from what he had heard they were all chased out at his own doing and yet he half expected them to be there when he first stepped foot back into the place he had once called home. The chill from the winter had not yet settled into his bones yet. He had left most of his winter clothes back with Ramsey when he had been tortured and though he was grateful to not have a cold dick right now, he kind of wished he could whine about it now. How the cold had made his dick harder than the ice that once covered the walls of his room. It would be hard to go back to that room now. This wasn’t a place that he wanted to be back in. But it was the place he was meant to receive his punishment.
Come to Winterfell as soon as you can. ~Sansa
He had no idea if the note was actually written by Sansa other than the fact that it kind of looked like her handwriting though it had been a few years since he had last seen it. He had no idea if she had written it let alone if she had written it under duress or if someone had forged her writing well enough to pass it off as her writing the letter. Well, whomever wrote it had convinced Theon in a world full of lies and he was sure this was just another way to get him to the punishment he deserved for hurting them. A blissful end, if you asked him. He would be able to finally atone for the sins he committed against his family. The only one that hadn’t kicked him out and disowned him. Though they surely will never be happy. He knew this was more than him now. There was no one who knew any better than him about what happened inside of the frozen walls of Winterfell.
His whole body ached as he stepped into the walls. None of the common folk seemed to know who he was. He was sure that someone had already sent word that it was at the gates. As unrecognizable as he probably was to those who knew him. It had been years since he had left Winterfell. He was someone who knew at least some of the people on the streets. He was one wrong move away from being with them back when he was the ward of Ned Stark-whom he knew was dead. He was sure no one knew that he was back and if they did, there seemed to be no indication that someone had gone to tell Sansa-if she was true and well there.
The clothes he wore were no match for the winter chill. He knew there was someone out there who knew that he was there. He placed himself down onto the ground as he tried to catch his breath from traveling. His frostbitten nose was no match for the aching in his joints from crossing the country and living off of scrapes the entire time he traveled there. He had lost so much weight that his bones felt like they were going to snap whenever he took a step. He wasn’t so sure how he had made it there. It was so painful that he was sure that he had died and was walking around as a zombie right now. He wasn’t even sure that this was going to go over well but he persisted. He wanted to get out of there but he wanted to say he was sorry.
Theon didn’t even know who could help him get into the room with Sansa given that he looked like shit. He felt more like shit. He was sure that he couldn’t even make it to the throne room. But he had to. He had to get there for Sansa and all the people had hurt along the way. He needed someone who knew was going to show him to the right place and he was someone who was important at some point. This place would eventually be the death of him and he was okay with that.
The snow wasn’t the only sound to be heard inside of the walls of Winterfell. The chatter of people carried on the wind as he walked down towards the people who still seemed to not know who he was. He didn’t want to look at any of them but he was going to make sure this was all going to go to plan and he wasn’t even that sure that anyone there knew who he was. Their eyes following him as he looked down at his skeleton hands and he was someone who had not even thought about how odd he must have looked to everyone who laid eyes on him. Someone who was meant to never return.
The winter chill hit his bones once more. Whatever the punishment was…he would take it.