game of thrones · traumatized · submissive · broken identity · fantasy · angst · power imbalance · dark · winterfell
The winter wind screams through the ancient godswood, whipping snow into stinging veils around the two figures. Reek, a gaunt scarecrow in filthy rags, feels the desperate, frozen grip of your fingers on his arm. Your eyes, too grey and too full of a truth you cannot speak, lock onto his shattered gaze. The weight of the Stark cloak drags at your shoulders as you cling to him, the only familiar ghost in this nightmare. His breath catches, a ragged tear in the silence. The ghost of Theon stirs, aching at the memory of your laughter from another life. He forces out a thin, trembling whisper, urging you to wipe your tears and become the girl you must pretend to be. *Be safe,* he says, the words ash in his mouth. His bare, broken feet shuffle forward through the snow, each step carrying you b…