-Chapter 43-

-Chapter 43-

-POV Theon Greyjoy-

I was in the Great Hall of Winterfell, head held high, sitting on the Lord of Winterfell's seat.

Taking the castle had been a bold move, but despite everything, it remained a stab in the back of the Starks, a family who had raised me and whom I cared for like my own family. And yet, I felt that beyond all this, my claim was legitimate; it was my right as a Greyjoy.

'I am a Greyjoy, we do not sow. I must prove myself to regain my father's favor and inherit the salt throne upon his death.'

The fire crackled in the hearth, and the silence in the room was interrupted only by the occasional roar of the flames.

While lost in my thoughts, the door suddenly opened and Asha entered, her dark hair flowing behind her. She walked with confidence, the stride of a captain who had conquered seas and lands.

"Theon," she said, her tone betraying slight concern. "We need to talk."

I frowned and responded before she could speak: "I am not leaving, Asha, Winterfell is mine."

I already knew what she wanted, and I would not give up because Winterfell was too great a prize to simply close my eyes to all my efforts and return to Pyke with my tail between my legs.

'The Ironborn will never respect me if I don't hold Winterfell and come back as a loser.'

She approached, her expression serious, and said sternly: "Robb Stark has made peace, Theon. He is coming back, and he is coming back in force with his entire army."

I laughed, trying to hide the growing anxiety within me, and said nonchalantly:

"What can he do? Winterfell is mine, it's my castle."

Asha looked at me incredulously, laughed in the same tone, and said:

"And what will you do alone against 20,000 men with only a garrison of 20 men? How long do you think your men will follow you when they are offered safe passage back to the Iron Islands if they betray you? You know what Robb Stark will do to you if he captures you. Are you ready to die a traitor, Theon?"

Her statement made me shiver because she was right. The Northerners are a people who despise betrayal above all. The grudge they hold against me will only be satisfied with my blood and nothing else.

If Robb came back with his entire army, I had to admit that I stood no chance.

"What do you suggest?" I asked hesitantly, seeing the situation for what it really was and realizing that I had no choice.

"We have to leave," she replied firmly.

I looked around, at the stone walls, the Stark banners still hanging. I had taken this castle, I had proven to my father, to my peers, that I was a Greyjoy worthy of the name.

And yet, reality was setting in: I could not keep it.

'Prince Theon of Winterfell… pathetic,' I thought.

But leaving also meant abandoning the men who had followed me, who had believed in me.

"And the men?" I asked, my heart heavy.

Asha lowered her eyes for a moment, then raised them again, filled with determination:

"You know what we have to do. If we leave them alive, they will talk. We cannot take that risk."

The implications of her words overwhelmed me. I would have to kill my own men, those who had fought alongside me.

It was an impossible choice, one family against another, one heritage against another, my reputation against the lives of my men.

Every step I took made me feel like I was becoming a monster more disgusting than the day before.

I took a deep breath and nodded: "Let's do it."

What followed was a massacre. My men, confident and unsuspecting, didn't see it coming.

I helped Asha, killing them one by one, some in their sleep, in total confusion.

With each life taken, a part of me died too. The weight of my actions crushed me, but I knew I had no choice.

'I had to keep moving forward. As long as I was alive, everything I did would make me better, stronger, just to survive.'

When the last man fell, silence returned to the castle. The fire in the great hall was almost out, leaving only a faint glow in the darkness.

I returned to the great hall, took a bottle of wine, and drank greedily to try to forget, to stifle the remorse, but the screams and looks of betrayal kept haunting me.

Asha approached, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"It's time to leave," she whispered.

I nodded, leaving the empty bottle on the table. With one last look around, I left the castle, riding into the night with Asha by my side.

The pain of betrayal, the pain of abandoning my second family, the Starks, was unbearable.

But I knew I had done what was necessary to survive. Yet, even as I fled Winterfell, I knew I could never escape the weight of my actions.

I was a Greyjoy, but at what cost?