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janie_tangerine"You shouldn't go." Theon already knows that it's wasted breath, but still, he'll give it a last try.
"I can't afford not to," Robb replies curtly. "And it's not as if you have to come with me. Maybe you should stay with Jeyne, if -"
"Stark, I haven't picked your side because of Jeyne Westerling. If you're going, I'm going."
Robb doesn't try to convince him to do otherwise, and Theon is thankful for small favors. He doesn't like this situation at all, and clearly Robb couldn't have taken the easy way out. Someone had suggested to say that it had been Theon bedding Jeyne Westerling, and no one would have doubted it, probably; Theon had given his agreement, but Robb hadn't wanted to hear it. And of course - Jeyne Westerling might not belong to a great house, but it's not as if Theon is still heir to anything, after he left the Iron Islands to fight with Robb. His father has made clear that his name is as good as Pyke, right now. That farce would have been the same as marrying the girl to Jon Snow, and Robb Stark is his father's son - he'd have never ruined her life so.
Theon hadn't taken it personally, but he knew it'd have become trouble. And this Frey wedding affair looks shady from each angle you look at it.
The worst part is that when he had told Robb that it sounded too easy the first time, Lady Stark herself had agreed with him without even blinking, and considering what she thinks of him (nothing good) it's just further proof that Robb should find an excuse to stay at Riverrun.
As if. He never will.
"Very well then," Robb says. "We leave on the morrow."
He stands up and leaves. Theon can bet that in a short while he'll be sharing a warm bed with his pretty, lovely wife that he should have never touched.
He isn't expecting Catelyn Stark to come inside the room a minute after her son left.
"He's still going, isn't he?"
Theon huffs, looks up at her. "We can only hope that we're both wrong."
She gives him a curt nod, and she looks ten years older than she seemed before this entire war started.
"Stay close to him," she says after another minute, and then she's gone, too.
As if Theon would do something different. He lost hope in people other than Robb believing that he isn't going to turn his cloak at any given moment, but at the Iron Islands they hadn't even given him the chance - as if being taken as a hostage means turning your cloak regardless of whether you wanted it or not.
He curses the lack of whores in Riverrun, he could have used one right now, and he storms out of the room, towards the kitchens. Maybe one of the maids will feel like having a good time for a while. If he finds one with red hair it'll be even better.
--
He knew.
And damn, of all the times Robb listened to his mother, he had to ignore her when she told him to being the direwolf inside?
The moment he sees a blade flashing at his left, he's quick enough to kill whichever Frey bannerman had been trying to kill him, but when he turns and sees that Roose Bolton is about to stab Robb in the back he knows that he'll never manage to be quick enough.
And then Bolton isn't doing it, he's saying something, and Theon runs, throwing himself over Robb before the blade can sink in entirely.
Not enough - the second it happens, he sees blood staining his clothes. It's not even a fatal wound, the sword only got through Robb's hip, but there's no fucking way that they'll get out of here alive.
Then he raises his head and sees Catelyn Stark's body crumble to the ground, her throat slit - and isn't that Roose Bolton's bastard son? - and sees an empty hallway in front of him.
He doesn't have time to think about this. He stands up, grabs Robb's arm and starts running. It doesn't go as planned, obviously - Ramsay Snow sees them, and before Theon knows it there's a burning pain in his thigh. He kicks with the other leg, managing to buy enough time to run for the hallway. It won't be empty for a long time though, and his leg is hurting too much to run. And he can hear Ramsay Snow shouting behind him that he's going to have so much fun with him the moment he catches the both of them.
Then he turns towards Robb and he curses all the gods he can think of. Someone managed to stab him in the other hip, and now he's coughing blood into the ground.
"Should've listened to you," Robb blurts, and he coughs more blood.
Theon is tempted to answer that after all he's spent his life having people not listening to him, but it's not the time or the place. They'll be found soon, and there's a window ahead of them.
He can't remember how high they are, but he's sure that there's no chance that they'll survive a fall.
Still - it's not even a question of surviving it. It's plainly obvious that the entire point of this mummer's farce was killing Robb, and if Ramsay Snow wants him alive, Theon can't imagine that it means anything good. And he'd rather die by his own hand than let himself be captured.
"Look up," Theon says. "Do you see that window?"
Robb does, and it seems that even raising his head is painful, but his eyes are still clear. He understands what Theon is implying here.
"Better with you than because of them," Robb coughs, more blood spilling on the floor and over his mouth. It's everywhere - in his hair, on his pale skin, and on Theon's hands.
There's noise coming from the end of the hallway. Damn. There's no time.
Theon stands up, cursing the pain in his leg; he grabs Robb's arm, bringing him to a standing position, too. He breathes in - he has to do this for the both of them, since Robb can barely move.
"Well then. Let's hope that it's on the river's side," Theon mutters, as if it's going to matter, as if Robb won't be dead anyway before they hit the ground.
"I'm sorry, you know," Robb whispers. "I never - I never though they'd -"
"Too late for that, isn't it?"
He should have done this already, but he doesn't know if his leg will hold long enough. He looks at the end of the hallway - there's noise and he sees blood stains on the floor, but no one has come for them right now.
He can spare another twenty seconds.
"I was going to - when the war was over, I was -" Robb starts, and then coughs more blood over the hand he had brought to his mouth.
"Robb, don't -"
"No, I have to - I have to say this if we die now. If we won, I was going to marry you to my sister," he blurts, his voice barely audible, his teeth covered in red.
It isn't the situation to be surprised, but Theon can't really help it. "You were going to do what?"
"Marry you to Sansa - when I had her back. It's not as if I'd have - I'd have found her a better match, not after everything, and -"
"Don't kill yourself talking now. I understood."
There's more noise coming from behind them.
For a moment, Theon lets himself think about what Robb had just said.
He isn't stupid - marrying Sansa as he is would have meant that he'd have taken her name rather than the contrary, and he knows what Robb would have offered if it had been the case.
It's a pity, that he'll never have a chance to walk into Winterfell thinking this is home without feeling guilty a moment later. It's a pity that he'll never have a chance to call Robb his brother knowing that they technically were.
Then again, his life has never gone the way he wished it to, and if he has to die now, then he's happy that it's at Robb's side rather than anywhere else.
"I'm going," he says. "I'm sorry."
"All right. And don't be. I'm glad it's you."
Theon forces himself to stand up and he runs. His breeches are soaked in blood and every step hurts, but he gets to the open window. He looks down. They're on the river's side - small mercies. And then he sees people coming in from the other side of the hallway. He drops Robb's arm and reaches down to take his hand instead.
"Now?" Robb croaks.
"Now," Theon says. He tastes blood in his mouth, and his fingers are sticky with it.
He lets himself drop forward, dragging Robb down with him, and they fall.
"I can't afford not to," Robb replies curtly. "And it's not as if you have to come with me. Maybe you should stay with Jeyne, if -"
"Stark, I haven't picked your side because of Jeyne Westerling. If you're going, I'm going."
Robb doesn't try to convince him to do otherwise, and Theon is thankful for small favors. He doesn't like this situation at all, and clearly Robb couldn't have taken the easy way out. Someone had suggested to say that it had been Theon bedding Jeyne Westerling, and no one would have doubted it, probably; Theon had given his agreement, but Robb hadn't wanted to hear it. And of course - Jeyne Westerling might not belong to a great house, but it's not as if Theon is still heir to anything, after he left the Iron Islands to fight with Robb. His father has made clear that his name is as good as Pyke, right now. That farce would have been the same as marrying the girl to Jon Snow, and Robb Stark is his father's son - he'd have never ruined her life so.
Theon hadn't taken it personally, but he knew it'd have become trouble. And this Frey wedding affair looks shady from each angle you look at it.
The worst part is that when he had told Robb that it sounded too easy the first time, Lady Stark herself had agreed with him without even blinking, and considering what she thinks of him (nothing good) it's just further proof that Robb should find an excuse to stay at Riverrun.
As if. He never will.
"Very well then," Robb says. "We leave on the morrow."
He stands up and leaves. Theon can bet that in a short while he'll be sharing a warm bed with his pretty, lovely wife that he should have never touched.
He isn't expecting Catelyn Stark to come inside the room a minute after her son left.
"He's still going, isn't he?"
Theon huffs, looks up at her. "We can only hope that we're both wrong."
She gives him a curt nod, and she looks ten years older than she seemed before this entire war started.
"Stay close to him," she says after another minute, and then she's gone, too.
As if Theon would do something different. He lost hope in people other than Robb believing that he isn't going to turn his cloak at any given moment, but at the Iron Islands they hadn't even given him the chance - as if being taken as a hostage means turning your cloak regardless of whether you wanted it or not.
He curses the lack of whores in Riverrun, he could have used one right now, and he storms out of the room, towards the kitchens. Maybe one of the maids will feel like having a good time for a while. If he finds one with red hair it'll be even better.
--
He knew.
And damn, of all the times Robb listened to his mother, he had to ignore her when she told him to being the direwolf inside?
The moment he sees a blade flashing at his left, he's quick enough to kill whichever Frey bannerman had been trying to kill him, but when he turns and sees that Roose Bolton is about to stab Robb in the back he knows that he'll never manage to be quick enough.
And then Bolton isn't doing it, he's saying something, and Theon runs, throwing himself over Robb before the blade can sink in entirely.
Not enough - the second it happens, he sees blood staining his clothes. It's not even a fatal wound, the sword only got through Robb's hip, but there's no fucking way that they'll get out of here alive.
Then he raises his head and sees Catelyn Stark's body crumble to the ground, her throat slit - and isn't that Roose Bolton's bastard son? - and sees an empty hallway in front of him.
He doesn't have time to think about this. He stands up, grabs Robb's arm and starts running. It doesn't go as planned, obviously - Ramsay Snow sees them, and before Theon knows it there's a burning pain in his thigh. He kicks with the other leg, managing to buy enough time to run for the hallway. It won't be empty for a long time though, and his leg is hurting too much to run. And he can hear Ramsay Snow shouting behind him that he's going to have so much fun with him the moment he catches the both of them.
Then he turns towards Robb and he curses all the gods he can think of. Someone managed to stab him in the other hip, and now he's coughing blood into the ground.
"Should've listened to you," Robb blurts, and he coughs more blood.
Theon is tempted to answer that after all he's spent his life having people not listening to him, but it's not the time or the place. They'll be found soon, and there's a window ahead of them.
He can't remember how high they are, but he's sure that there's no chance that they'll survive a fall.
Still - it's not even a question of surviving it. It's plainly obvious that the entire point of this mummer's farce was killing Robb, and if Ramsay Snow wants him alive, Theon can't imagine that it means anything good. And he'd rather die by his own hand than let himself be captured.
"Look up," Theon says. "Do you see that window?"
Robb does, and it seems that even raising his head is painful, but his eyes are still clear. He understands what Theon is implying here.
"Better with you than because of them," Robb coughs, more blood spilling on the floor and over his mouth. It's everywhere - in his hair, on his pale skin, and on Theon's hands.
There's noise coming from the end of the hallway. Damn. There's no time.
Theon stands up, cursing the pain in his leg; he grabs Robb's arm, bringing him to a standing position, too. He breathes in - he has to do this for the both of them, since Robb can barely move.
"Well then. Let's hope that it's on the river's side," Theon mutters, as if it's going to matter, as if Robb won't be dead anyway before they hit the ground.
"I'm sorry, you know," Robb whispers. "I never - I never though they'd -"
"Too late for that, isn't it?"
He should have done this already, but he doesn't know if his leg will hold long enough. He looks at the end of the hallway - there's noise and he sees blood stains on the floor, but no one has come for them right now.
He can spare another twenty seconds.
"I was going to - when the war was over, I was -" Robb starts, and then coughs more blood over the hand he had brought to his mouth.
"Robb, don't -"
"No, I have to - I have to say this if we die now. If we won, I was going to marry you to my sister," he blurts, his voice barely audible, his teeth covered in red.
It isn't the situation to be surprised, but Theon can't really help it. "You were going to do what?"
"Marry you to Sansa - when I had her back. It's not as if I'd have - I'd have found her a better match, not after everything, and -"
"Don't kill yourself talking now. I understood."
There's more noise coming from behind them.
For a moment, Theon lets himself think about what Robb had just said.
He isn't stupid - marrying Sansa as he is would have meant that he'd have taken her name rather than the contrary, and he knows what Robb would have offered if it had been the case.
It's a pity, that he'll never have a chance to walk into Winterfell thinking this is home without feeling guilty a moment later. It's a pity that he'll never have a chance to call Robb his brother knowing that they technically were.
Then again, his life has never gone the way he wished it to, and if he has to die now, then he's happy that it's at Robb's side rather than anywhere else.
"I'm going," he says. "I'm sorry."
"All right. And don't be. I'm glad it's you."
Theon forces himself to stand up and he runs. His breeches are soaked in blood and every step hurts, but he gets to the open window. He looks down. They're on the river's side - small mercies. And then he sees people coming in from the other side of the hallway. He drops Robb's arm and reaches down to take his hand instead.
"Now?" Robb croaks.
"Now," Theon says. He tastes blood in his mouth, and his fingers are sticky with it.
He lets himself drop forward, dragging Robb down with him, and they fall.
