Theon/Reek hears news that one of the Bolton soldiers, a man-at-arms for House Ryswell, has been found dead and laying in the snow.
Roger Ryswell: Hrm, well. He probably just fell off the wall while drunk and taking a piss off the side in the middle of the night.
Theon: Yes. Going up to the top of the wall to piss off the side in the middle of the night in the freezing cold sounds logical. So that must be what happened.
Solider: No way! Stannis must have some secret agents inside the castle! These rogue agents are going to kill us off one by one.
Everyone Else: Hahaha, that’s stupid! What a dumb theory.
At any rate, conditions are pretty miserable here with the cold. Theon saw Roose Bolton beat and banish one guy who suggested that Stannis was being protected from the blizzard by the Red God. Morale is getting low since there is so little food, and that which exists isn’t really being distributed fairly.
Not long after, one of the Singer Abel’s Groupies shows up.
Groupie: Hey Theon! You know I’m not an actual groupie, right? I’m a Wildling Spearwife sent here from the Wall on an elite assassination mission to start killing Bolton men.
Theon: Yes, this is pretty obvious. Please leave me alone.
Groupie: Show me the crypts! We need to find a cool way to escape Winterfell.
Theon: LEAVE ME ALONE! YOU’RE PROBABLY A TRAP THAT RAMSAY IS SETTING UP TO GET ME IN TROUBLE AGAIN! I WON’T HELP YOU!
Theon leaves and thinks about killing himself to end his misery. But if he messes up and doesn’t do it successfully, he knows Ramsay will punish him slowly and painfully, which would be even worse. So he just sighs and goes back to being mopey about everything.
Soon after, two more Bolton men are found dead, both of which also appear to be “accidental.” Lord Bolton holds a meeting. One of the dead is Aenys Frey’s squire.
Roose: Yes. Accidents. Just a bunch of coincidental accidents.
Aenys Frey: REALLY?! REALLY?! No way! We’re all going to die one by one while these secret killers stalk us. Instead of sitting here and waiting to die, we should take the fight to Stannis! Also, we know who the real culprit is here – the one who is really on team Stannis and only pretending to be our friend. The one who conveniently “lost” three Freys. Lord Manderly!
Roose: ENOUGH! I’ll have none of these accusations. The deaths were accidents.
So says Roose. But Theon looks into his eyes and can tell that Roose himself doesn’t actually believe that. He is uneasy about what is going on too.
That night, the stables of Winterfell collapse, killing a large number of the Bolton army’s horses, and several of the men. Although most of the dead bodies seem to be victims from the collapse, one victim was clearly murdered – a man named “Yellow Dick,” one of Ramsay’s yes men.
Soldier: HOLY CRAP! Do you see that? Someone cut off his penis and stuffed it inside his own mouth so hard that it broke all his teeth!
Other Soldier: Well now Roose DEFINITELY can’t say that it was an accident.
The rest of the horses are brought into the Great Hall with the stables destroyed, and the whole place becomes super stinky. Not as stinky as Theon though, because he is still in his “Reek” persona.
One of Ramsay’s other yes men comes up to Theon.
Yes-Man: REEK! I bet this is you killing these men, isn’t it? Ramsay is going to slice your lips off!
Theon: N-no! It’s n-n-not me, I swear! I’m Reek! Ramsay’s loyal servant. It rhymes with “X-Men: Dark Phoenix killed off Mystique.”
Yes-Man: HEY! Spoilers!
Steelshanks then shows up.
Steelshanks: HEY EVERYONE! Remember me?
Theon: Not really.
Steelshanks: I used to travel around with Jaime a few books ago. But I haven't been given dialogue on this blog in FOREVER.
Theon: If you say so.
Steelshanks: Whatever. Oh Theon, you’re being summoned before the lords.
Theon: W-what? Why?!
Yes-Man: HAHA! Probably because they think you’re involved with all the killings. Well, have fun when Ramsay flays you some more.
Theon goes before the lords.
Roose: So you do this shit or not, Theon? We noticed that everywhere that the killings have been are places that you have also been seen walking around.
Lady Dustin walks up.
Lady Dustin: Him and everyone else in Winterfell. We’re all trapped here. Theon, take your gloves off.
He does. Everyone sees his maimed hands with cut-off fingers.
Lady Dustin: Come on, people. Look at this sickly cripple. Do you think he has the ability to go around murdering people twice his size with all those missing fingers? There is no way this poor, sad, frail excuse of a person has either the strength or the courage to commit such crimes.
Theon: Uhh… thanks?
Roose: Hrm. Good points, I suppose.
Aenys Frey: THEN IT MUST BE LORD MANDERLEY!
Lady Dustin: Must it? Because as I recall, you shitty Freys VICIOUSLY MURDERED THE KING IN THE NORTH AND HIS MOTHER, PISSING ALL OVER GUEST RIGHTS. Based on how much everyone in the North hates you, literally anyone here could be responsible for killing a few Freys. Do you know what we call killing one Frey is called in the North? “A good start.”
Aenys Frey: HEY!
Roose: Now get out of here, Theon.
He’s dismissed and walks away. Later, he hears a horn signaling in the distance. It is followed by drums.
Theon: Hrm. Could that be Stannis? Is his army finally here? God, I hope so. Maybe Stannis will kill us all and I’ll get the death I so crave. Maybe I can convince Roose to even give me a sword to fight with. That way I can at least die as Theon, not Reek.
He goes to the godswood to pray for that.
Tree: *whispering* Theon.
Theon: WHOA! WTF?! Crazy ass talking tree.
Then then looks more closely at the tree. Somehow… for some reason… it looks sort of like… Bran.
Theon: Bran? Why the tree be Bran? I didn’t even kill Bran and Rickon. It was those two miller’s sons.
But just as Theon is about to explore the mystery of the talking Bran tree further, Abel’s washerwomen/groupies show up.
Groupie: Hey Theon!
Theon: Ugh. You all again? LEAVE ME ALONE!
Groupie: Maybe you want this dagger up your neck, just like we did to the others!
Theon: Yes, please. Oh god please, kill me! I know it’s you girls killing everyone. Please give me the sweet, sweet release of death.
Groupie: Quit your whining, little baby. Did Ramsey hurt you? Good. You deserved it. But don’t think you’re getting off that easy. No, before you die… you need to talk to Abel. He’s waiting for you!
Roger Ryswell: Hrm, well. He probably just fell off the wall while drunk and taking a piss off the side in the middle of the night.
Theon: Yes. Going up to the top of the wall to piss off the side in the middle of the night in the freezing cold sounds logical. So that must be what happened.
Solider: No way! Stannis must have some secret agents inside the castle! These rogue agents are going to kill us off one by one.
Everyone Else: Hahaha, that’s stupid! What a dumb theory.
At any rate, conditions are pretty miserable here with the cold. Theon saw Roose Bolton beat and banish one guy who suggested that Stannis was being protected from the blizzard by the Red God. Morale is getting low since there is so little food, and that which exists isn’t really being distributed fairly.
Not long after, one of the Singer Abel’s Groupies shows up.
Groupie: Hey Theon! You know I’m not an actual groupie, right? I’m a Wildling Spearwife sent here from the Wall on an elite assassination mission to start killing Bolton men.
Theon: Yes, this is pretty obvious. Please leave me alone.
Groupie: Show me the crypts! We need to find a cool way to escape Winterfell.
Theon: LEAVE ME ALONE! YOU’RE PROBABLY A TRAP THAT RAMSAY IS SETTING UP TO GET ME IN TROUBLE AGAIN! I WON’T HELP YOU!
Theon leaves and thinks about killing himself to end his misery. But if he messes up and doesn’t do it successfully, he knows Ramsay will punish him slowly and painfully, which would be even worse. So he just sighs and goes back to being mopey about everything.
Soon after, two more Bolton men are found dead, both of which also appear to be “accidental.” Lord Bolton holds a meeting. One of the dead is Aenys Frey’s squire.
Roose: Yes. Accidents. Just a bunch of coincidental accidents.
Aenys Frey: REALLY?! REALLY?! No way! We’re all going to die one by one while these secret killers stalk us. Instead of sitting here and waiting to die, we should take the fight to Stannis! Also, we know who the real culprit is here – the one who is really on team Stannis and only pretending to be our friend. The one who conveniently “lost” three Freys. Lord Manderly!
Roose: ENOUGH! I’ll have none of these accusations. The deaths were accidents.
So says Roose. But Theon looks into his eyes and can tell that Roose himself doesn’t actually believe that. He is uneasy about what is going on too.
That night, the stables of Winterfell collapse, killing a large number of the Bolton army’s horses, and several of the men. Although most of the dead bodies seem to be victims from the collapse, one victim was clearly murdered – a man named “Yellow Dick,” one of Ramsay’s yes men.
Soldier: HOLY CRAP! Do you see that? Someone cut off his penis and stuffed it inside his own mouth so hard that it broke all his teeth!
Other Soldier: Well now Roose DEFINITELY can’t say that it was an accident.
The rest of the horses are brought into the Great Hall with the stables destroyed, and the whole place becomes super stinky. Not as stinky as Theon though, because he is still in his “Reek” persona.
One of Ramsay’s other yes men comes up to Theon.
Yes-Man: REEK! I bet this is you killing these men, isn’t it? Ramsay is going to slice your lips off!
Theon: N-no! It’s n-n-not me, I swear! I’m Reek! Ramsay’s loyal servant. It rhymes with “X-Men: Dark Phoenix killed off Mystique.”
Yes-Man: HEY! Spoilers!
Steelshanks then shows up.
Steelshanks: HEY EVERYONE! Remember me?
Theon: Not really.
Steelshanks: I used to travel around with Jaime a few books ago. But I haven't been given dialogue on this blog in FOREVER.
Theon: If you say so.
Steelshanks: Whatever. Oh Theon, you’re being summoned before the lords.
Theon: W-what? Why?!
Yes-Man: HAHA! Probably because they think you’re involved with all the killings. Well, have fun when Ramsay flays you some more.
Theon goes before the lords.
Roose: So you do this shit or not, Theon? We noticed that everywhere that the killings have been are places that you have also been seen walking around.
Lady Dustin walks up.
Lady Dustin: Him and everyone else in Winterfell. We’re all trapped here. Theon, take your gloves off.
He does. Everyone sees his maimed hands with cut-off fingers.
Lady Dustin: Come on, people. Look at this sickly cripple. Do you think he has the ability to go around murdering people twice his size with all those missing fingers? There is no way this poor, sad, frail excuse of a person has either the strength or the courage to commit such crimes.
Theon: Uhh… thanks?
Roose: Hrm. Good points, I suppose.
Aenys Frey: THEN IT MUST BE LORD MANDERLEY!
Lady Dustin: Must it? Because as I recall, you shitty Freys VICIOUSLY MURDERED THE KING IN THE NORTH AND HIS MOTHER, PISSING ALL OVER GUEST RIGHTS. Based on how much everyone in the North hates you, literally anyone here could be responsible for killing a few Freys. Do you know what we call killing one Frey is called in the North? “A good start.”
Aenys Frey: HEY!
Roose: Now get out of here, Theon.
He’s dismissed and walks away. Later, he hears a horn signaling in the distance. It is followed by drums.
Theon: Hrm. Could that be Stannis? Is his army finally here? God, I hope so. Maybe Stannis will kill us all and I’ll get the death I so crave. Maybe I can convince Roose to even give me a sword to fight with. That way I can at least die as Theon, not Reek.
He goes to the godswood to pray for that.
Tree: *whispering* Theon.
Theon: WHOA! WTF?! Crazy ass talking tree.
Then then looks more closely at the tree. Somehow… for some reason… it looks sort of like… Bran.
Theon: Bran? Why the tree be Bran? I didn’t even kill Bran and Rickon. It was those two miller’s sons.
But just as Theon is about to explore the mystery of the talking Bran tree further, Abel’s washerwomen/groupies show up.
Groupie: Hey Theon!
Theon: Ugh. You all again? LEAVE ME ALONE!
Groupie: Maybe you want this dagger up your neck, just like we did to the others!
Theon: Yes, please. Oh god please, kill me! I know it’s you girls killing everyone. Please give me the sweet, sweet release of death.
Groupie: Quit your whining, little baby. Did Ramsey hurt you? Good. You deserved it. But don’t think you’re getting off that easy. No, before you die… you need to talk to Abel. He’s waiting for you!
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