2) Theon et Yara : What is dead may never died


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All around them there was water, a lot of water (nda : once again, we had no idea in order to begin – we think it will be our running gag ^^).

Theon could not stop looking at the opponent fleet which came right in front of them. Their uncle Euron led it, without doubts : he recognized the bow of the Silence from where he was and no one else would have dare to command her. Near to the young man was the Black Wind, the vessel of his sister, had taken the lead of the Mother of Dragons' fleet. He would have rather naviguate at her side, on the same ship, however she had judged that it would be better for him to guide his own crew, because he already had some experience in this matter, more than any Dothraki. He was a Greyjoy after all, and this time he did have plan to act like one.

The time to fight was coming and even the dragons of Daenerys semmed to be restless, sensitive to the ambiant pressure. The sound of the foghorn resonated in the cold air of the morning, followed by the grinding of the mechanisms establishing. Theon saw, out of the corner of his eye, a missile going right to the Silence and miss her, only causing a few more waves in the sea.

This was the beginning of the fight. The dragons took flight in the directions of the ennemies, getting around them in order to breach out them and to prevent their escape. The first jets of flame spewed out their monstruous jaws to blaze the opponent vessels. Though the ship of Euron did not even slow down when the huge wing had pass and, at the contrary, she continued to gather speed, going right to the Black Wind – his priority was to put away the one who threated his claim to the throne.

Despite the catapults and the dragons who harassed them, the Iron-borns went nearer and nearer and the boarding was imminent. Theon refocused his attention on his crew, only composed of Dothrakis, much to his regret. At the perspective of the fight, they had stop to fear the sea – and therefore to soil the ship with the content of their stomachs.

"To you places ! ordered their provisionnal captain."

And once again he wondered at them obey him without hesitation. That seemed so unrealistic to him, even if Daenerys had explained them that the lords of the Large Grassy Plain taked as thei leader – thei khal – the best ridder. And, on the wooden horses, he was definitly superior. However...

He suddenly noticed a vessel which charged right over them, her passagers preparing themselves to the boarding. While his own men begined to clash their arakhs in order to impress their attackers, Theon bent his bow. Trying with difficulties to forget about Ramsay – he was the best bowman he ever met -, he aimed his target and smiled in statisfaction when the arrow sank into the chest of an opponent.

A few seconds later, the two vessels were side by side and the sailers boarded on the deck, where the Dothrakis welcomed them as they had to. Their captain could only shot a few more arrows before the fight ended in a bloodbath, thus increasing the volume of disgusting organic substances on the wooden boards. Then, without his crew directly threatened, he looked at the surroundings. What he saw then froze his blood in his veins : the Silence had violently crash over the ship of Yara. The metallic figurehead of Euron's had open a large breach into the broadside of the Black Wind, and the water run into it. The Iron-borns aboard the stricken vessel boarded their attackers in order to take the control of their enormous ship and thus avoid to drown in the sea. The fight began under Theon's stunned gaze. Quickly, the niece and the uncle found theirselves in front of each other, and the duel for the Salted Throne began. Some of the fighters had stopped in order to watch their leaders fighting, but the majority didn't even look at them.

They crossed swords during what seemed like hours to younger Greyjoy, until Euron reach his opponent in her chest. Yara took a few steps back, reeling, then she droped her sword to press both her hands on her wound. Her winner pushed her and she did not manage to keep balance, weakened : she fell into the water, where she sank under he weight of her armor and of the victorious gaze of her opponent.

His brother gasped of horror. When he could finally stop looking at the place where the corpse of his sister was engulfged by the waves, it was to look at Yara's murderer. Without thinking at what he was doing, leaded by his grief and his anger, he took the helm and moved to the Silence, planning to slay his uncle with his bare hands if necessary. It was only a few steps towards the other vessel that he reminded his bow and the fact that it would probably be more efficient than a boarding, especially with his crew.

His arrow pierced the eye of Euron and the man died before even understanding what was happening. After that, to his nephew, the battle came to pass in a fog until the opponent fleet was annihilated.


"I avenged my sister."

In Theon's mind there were only those words, along with the last vision he had had of her, one second before she dissapeared in the water. While he was gazing without seeing at the ceiling of his cabin, the last moments of the duel played and replayed in front of him. Maybe he could have act before and save her... He should have do, but he didn't managed to. The opponent ships have sank hours ago and since this moment he had no strength or no will to move. Why sould have he ? He had fighted for Yara, to support her claim to the throne, and now she wasn't here any more – just as her opponent. So why ? For the Mother of Dragons, to help her conquest this Iron Thrones he never saw and he didn't care about ? In fact, henceforth nothing mattered to him any more, he had only wished to fight for his sister – and now she was dead.

He had lost everything : his real and adoptive families, all opportunity to found a new one, all hope... And he didn't even wanted to try to pick up the pieces of his life, because this last tragedy had broken him so deeply that it had become impossible.

At this moment his argue with Yara, at this brothel, came back in his memory. This day she had permitted him to forget Reek, to turn the page about this years. But now... now he tought that she may have been right, that he could take control of his fate this time and end with all of this. Of course it scared him, the tought of the long night, but he could not continue to move forward this life which had taken everything from him, including his sister, his last support in this world. Without her... he was afraid that he was nothing more that this aimless creature that Ramsay had made of him. And yet he had promised to himself that he would not allow it to get over him again.

His gaze was caught by the dagger laid on the table, within his grasp. His heart taced into his chest while his plan was materializing in his mind. Extend hand, denude his wrist, cut into his skin... That seemed so easy, almost harmless, and at the same time so definitive that he still hesitated.


/!\The next paragraph contain a scene of self-mutilation /!\


Then he stopped thinking and he grabed the weapon firmly to not let it slip despite his lacking fingers. The icy touch of the metal against the palm of his hand made him shiver but he forbide himself to change his mind. He press slightly onto his skin seamed with scars until a scarlet drop run off along his forearm then, taking no heed of the pain, he pushed the blade deeper into his flesh. He took a depp breath before taking the knife in his other hand, henceforth streaming with blood. There was no turning back now, he had to finish it. Theon wanted to incise his second wrist but his hand was shaking so hard that he struggled. Fighting the feeling of vertigo, he finally managed to open a new notch in his flesh, less deep than the other however. But it would be enough seeing how his head was already spinning.


/!\The scene is over /!\


The dagger slipped between his weakened fingers whereas he leaned back the wall of his cabin. It seemed to him that the roll of the ship had suddenly strengthened... This abrupt darkness, was it the lamp lackinf of hoil or his own vision that blackened ? He did not try to find out because the answer did not matter. He felt exhausted but serene, quiet as he did not have been since a long time. The mattress was soaking by his vital fluid pouring out his wounds, yet he didn't feell the pain. It seemed that he was sinking into a trouble, cold and wooly ocean.

The world around him flickered one last time, before he closed his eyes and did not try any more to cling to the remaining shreds of his consciousness. A faint smile played on his lips. He did not have any regrets : now he could rejoined his sister.

His men found him juste like that the next morning, as asleep if there was not his pallor contrarsing with the scarlet of his spread life.



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