Reek is in the keep of House Stout in Barrowton when Lord Ramsay Bolton’s “Frey search party” returns. As soon as Reek sees Ramsay, he knows that his mood is sour and that his hunt has been unsuccessful. That’s obviously not a good thing, since Ramsay is a psychopath.
Reek: Well, he’ll probably cut off some more of my fingers now in punishment for no reason.
Instead, Ramsay throws a rotting head at Reek. He then heads off.
Reek: New head. Who dis?
Big Walder: That’s some goat herder that we ran into along the way. Ramsay killed him for calling him “Lord Snow.” You know, instead of his new name, “Lord Bolton.”
Reek: S-so… your cousins, the other Freys. Lord Bolton did not find them?
Big Walder: Nah, not that I expected that we ever wood. I bet that fat, pie-eating bastard had them killed.
Reek: Wait… so just to catch the readers up, because these books love starting In Media Res… I just want to clarify what you’re saying. You’re saying that three of your Frey cousins have gone missing… those being Rhaegar, Symond and Jared Frey… the three that were with Lord Wyman Manderly in White Harbor. Now they have gone missing and you suspect Lord Manderly had something to do with it?
Big Walder: That is correct.
Later, Ramsay is throwing a feast in the hall of House Stout. Reek is chained up to a wall and is occasionally thrown some food that is thrown in the direction of him and Ramsay’s dogs. The door opens suddenly.
In walks Ramsay’s father, Lord Roose Bolton. Everyone gets quiet.
Roose: Leave us.
Everyone gets the hell out of there, pronto. Because everyone is creeped out by this guy.
Reek: Well, I’ll just be leaving too then and… oh no! Damnit. Chained to the wall. I can’t.
Roose: I take it that you did not find our missing Freys?
Ramsay: Nah, but who gives a shit about a few missing Freys anyway? There are so many of them.
Roose: Lord Manderly is most distraught that they have gone missing. He says he blames himself.
Reek sees a twitch in Ramsay’s eyes.
Ramsay: Those fools should have stayed with Lord Eel Pie’s party then, rather than riding ahead.
Roose: You know how fat and slow Wyman Manderly is. He can only travel a few miles a day, and stops for meals about 26 times. The Freys were anxious to ride on ahead. Then they mysteriously vanished.
Ramsay: DO YOU ACTUALLY BELIEVE THAT BULLSHIT STORY THAT MANDERLY IS FEEDING US?
Roose: What gave you the impression that I did believe it? Still, his Lordship remains… most "distraught."
Ramsay: Not so distraught that he’s lost his appetite over it and plans to skip a meal. AMIRIGHT?
Roose looks at his son with cold, dead eyes.
Roose: Manderly has a monstrous appetite. Obviously you have noticed this.
Ramsay: What I’ve noticed is that he has brought nobody that we can use as a hostage along with him. Obviously on purpose. That fast, feast-throwing asshole is really trying to screw us.
Roose: Speaking of feast-throwing, I see you’re doing the same. What is all this?
Ramsay: It’s nothing, really. A small affair in House Stout. Really, you should be throwing me a GREAT FEAST celebrating my return in Barrow Hall.
Roose: I do not run Barrowton, Ramsay. The Dustins do. And Lady Dustin can’t stand you. Which makes sense because you’re a monster. What with you killing your older brother and my only legitimate son, a boy who she helped raise. But Lady Dustin also blames Ned Stark for her husband’s death, which makes her our ally. For now. An asshole like you can easily make us outstay our welcome… and we need their support.
Rasmsay: NEED their support? No way! You get their support by FEAR! If she disrespects us, we burn her entire town down and murder everyone, just like I did to Winterfell. We should skin that bitch Lady Dustin alive and use her as boots.
Roose: Wow, sometimes you’re such a sadistic moron that I doubt you came from my own seed. And you speak falsely. Remember, it was Theon Turncloak who burned down Winterfell and killed everyone. Remember?
Ramsay: Oh right. “Theon did it.”
He turns and gives a knowing glare to Reek, who looks away and pretends like he wasn’t listening.
Roose: You need to me more disreet with your “amusements,” son. People are talking. It’s not good. Oh, and also human skin makes pretty terrible leather, so those boots you’re talking about would be pretty flimsy. Trust me, I know. I’ve tried wearing human skin leather. It tears so easily.
Ramsay: Whatever, enough talk about this dumb place. We need to talk about Stannis! We need to march on Deepwood Motte now and face him! He totally didn’t take the bait and head for the Dreadfort like the Karstarks set him up to go to, because they are totally double-crossing him and pretending like they’re on his side when they are really on ours.
Roose: Not until you are married to “Arya Stark,” my son. And that shall not happen here. I have a better idea. The best place for you to marry Arya Stark, and secure the North… is in WINTERFELL.
Ramsay: Say what now? I burned down that… uhh… I mean THEON burned down that place. It’s a lousy mess of smoldering stones.
Roose: It must be rebuilt. It’s symbolic value is too high. As is its strategic battle for the fight against Stannis. If we are fortified in Winterfell, we will be well-defended. And Stannis should know that there is no way he can win the north without winning Winterfell. That will mean Stannis will have to come to us, not the other way around. Additionally, when Stannis marches on Winterfell, he will bring the forces of Arnolf Karstark with him. It is there that they will turn on him and join our side in the middle of the battle.
Ramsay: Ugh. Whatever.
Roose: Also, I’m taking your little… thing… with me.
He points at Reek.
Reek: W-what? M-me? No! Please! I’m just here in the background to hear everything you discuss but not to interact! I’m just here as a convienient POV character in the background to push the plot forward! P-please! Just l-leave me be!
Roose: For my plans, I will need the former Prince of Winterfell, if you have not already ruined him beyond having any use.
Ramsay: Grrr. Yes father, you may have him.
Ramsay goes over begridingly to Reek and unchains him. But he also whispers in his ear.
Ramsay: Oh, you are SO DEAD for this. I’m going to torture you so much.
Reek: P-please, n-no! I didn’t ask for this.
Ramsay: Be my spy. Tell me everything that my father has to say to you. I want to know it all. But say nothing about how I have treated you so far.
Reek: I mean he can see that I’m missing all sorts of fingers, am covered in filth, and am chained to wall along with some dogs. So, you know, I think he knows.
The two then ride through the city to Barrow Hall, where Roose engages in the closest thing to “pleasant small talk” that he knows how to.
Roose: My son is a predictable moron, so don’t act like I don’t know what he asked of you. He told you to spy on me and report back everything I said.
Reek: N-no, my lord. I just… he… uhh…
Roose: Oh come on, I remember the REAL Reek and you’re not him. That dude had major B.O. problems. They were natural. He would bathe and bathe and bathe and still stink. You’re only like this because Ramsay doesn’t let you bathe. You need to clean yourself up and act like the high lord you are.
Reek: N-no, my lord. I’m just Reek. It rhymes with “on Fleek.”
Roose: First of all, never say “on Fleek” again. Second, you said “my lord,” instead of “m’lord.” An easy way to tell that you’re not a filthy peasant. You give your true identity away.
Reek: Y-yes my lo… uhh… m’lord.
Roose: I gave the original Reek to Ramsay sort of as a cruel joke, but the two became inseperable. I’m still not sure which one corrupted the other. You know, Ramsay only exists because I raped his mother under the corpse of the woman’s hanged husband. I had trueborn children as well… my son Domeric. But Ramsay murdered him. I suppose I’ll have other children too with my new wife. Although I expect Ramsay to murder them too. Whatever, I’ll be an old dad so it’s not like I was going to live long enough to see them grow up anyway.
Reek: Yikes, now I see why he grew up to be such a sadistic fuck.
Roose: Anyway, I need you to wash up and wear clothes again instead of rags. I need you to be Theon Greyjoy one more time.
Finally, they reach Barrow Hall, and meet with Lady Dustin.
Lady Dustin: Who is this frail old man with loose skin and white hair that you’re bringing to be?
Roose: Hahah… frail old man? This is, like, Theon Greyjoy. Rightful heir to the Iron Isles. He’s 22 years old or somethig like that.
Lady Dustin squints and looks at him closely.
Lady Dustin: Holy crap, that IS Theon Greyjoy. What did your bastard do to him?
Roose: Eh, he removed some parts. Nothing essential.
Reek gets down on his knees.
Reek: Please, m’lord! M’lady! No! T-there has been some terrible mistake! I’m not him! I’m not the turncloak! He died at Winterfell.
Lady Dustin: Died at Winterfell? You mean when the Night King killed him defending Bran?
Roose: Can we please stop making TV show jokes? It's getting pretty tiresome.
Reek: I'm not the turncloack! My name is Reek! It rhymes with “boutique.”
Roose: Boutique? Well, I guess it’s better than the last one he said.
Lady Dustin: James Vanderbeek?
Roose: I would have killed him if he said that. I’m team Pacey.
Lady Dustin: Hell yeah, Team Pacey all the way.
They fist bump on Pacey.
No comments:
Post a Comment