Dark wings dark words [Robb & Theon]

[Robb Stark]

'The young wolf' some people called him, but Robb couldn't help himself but to feel that it had been long since he had been truly young. The letter sent from the capital had arrived earlier this day by an black raven. '' Dark wings dark words. '' He had heard some of his men mumble to themselves as it had flown in over the camp. But refusing to be kept on hold Robb had taken up an quick pace, walking as fast as he could without breaking into a jog towards the maester who was in charge of the camps birds. When he arrived, he saw the maester's pained expression as this had 'accidentally' opened the letter already, and as he handed it to Robb his heart could already feel what was written on it. He felt his eyes scanning over the dots and lines that was printed on the beige paper, but they didn't register any of the words other than Eddard Stark have been executed.

Letting the letter fall out of his hands he had turned around briskly and started to walk towards the close by forest, and as in a coma had he heard the word spread like wildfire behind his back. '' Lord Stark has been killed! '' They yelled in anger. But Robb had kept on walking, walking until he couldn't help himself but to draw his sword from its scabbard, and as the first swing hit the tree so did his hidden away feelings leave his eyes in the shape of tears, and his throat in the sound of helpless grunts. He kept swinging his sword furiously at the tree, swung for all that his life was worth, until the blade had gone blunt and his head had been buried in his mothers shoulder. Then, had he felt young once more for the first time since this war had began.

The walk down to his tent had been an challenging one, as the soldiers who bowed their heads towards him with grief and acknowledgement had been an constant reminder off what he had just learnt. He tried to keep his focus at his feet and the road in front of him, painfully aware that the men who followed him into war saw his red, sore eyes and empty scabbard. Grey Wind also did his best to make him feel better, as he came silently to his side and just let Robb know that he was there if he'd need him.

When his walk was finished he had came to the tent that was his, and in the same moment as one of the guards positioned outside lifted up one of the openings, he noticed his friend already inside. His father had always been good to Theon and raised him as one of his own in everything but name, and it was hard for Robb to not see him as one of his family at times like these. But right now he couldn't tell wherever the man before him was sad or untouched by the grim news, and all he could manage to say came out with an slow and unsteady voice.

'' They killed him.. ''




Theon Greyjoy

[Theon Greyjoy]

Theon Greyjoy had been Eddard Stark’s prisoner for 10 years now, he’d spent more time in the North than he had in his homeland. Lord Stark had raised his 9 year old ward as his own, and now that man was dead. What was Theon supposed to think, what was he supposed to say, his jailer was dead, but that same man was also more of a father to him than Balon Greyjoy had ever been. When Theon had heard the news his first instinct had been anger, he wanted to see Joffrey dead, he wanted to punish the people who had wronged his… and then he remembered Robb wasn’t his brother, Eddard wasn’t his father, his family hadn’t been wronged the people who held him prisoner, who thought themselves better than him, and didn’t care about him one lick had been wronged. Theon’s rage simmered down, mixing with sadness about the loss of the only man who had ever given him respect, treated him like something worthwhile. Theon was always conflicted about the Starks, but today more than any other day he didn’t know what to think what to feel, so he chose to feel nothing. Everyone already expected that of Theon, they expected him to be cold, selfish and heartless, nobody expected him to be shaken up by the fact that Eddard had been killed.

Theon didn’t join in with the men who were drinking and screaming about what they’d do to avenge Lord Stark, nor did he sit with the men who were gathered around a fire telling stories about the honorable Ned Stark, no he would not join anybody who was mourning. Theon headed to the edge of the camp where the camp followers resided and picked out a choice prostitute, but he wasn’t in the mood, which was a first for the young Greyjoy. What was so wrong with him that he couldn’t get in the proper state of readiness to enjoy the company of a woman? Eddard was nothing to him, nothing, nothing at all, he kept telling himself that, but the pit in his stomach said otherwise. Theon headed towards the dining tent and grabbed a flask of wine, but he couldn’t stomach the taste, Lord Stark’s death had sucked the joy out of all of his favorite things. Theon slipped away from the group of men who were drinking, and sat down under a tree far out of sight of anybody completely defeated.

The sounds of Lady Stark’s cries when she heard the news still rang in Theon’s ears. He could still picture the completely broken look on Robb’s face, as he’d walked into the woods, was that what grief really was? Theon had felt sorry for himself so many times, but he had never felt sorry for somebody else. He hadn’t been able to handle it, to see Catelyn so hurt so broken, to see the pain in Robb’s eyes, Theon hadn’t cried when his brothers had died, he hadn’t cared that was the Ironborn way, emotion was weakness. Theon had been 9 when his brothers had died but yet he felt worse about a man who wasn’t his blood’s death than he had about theirs, what did that say about him?

Thinking about her pain was too much for Theon, he didn’t know why, he couldn’t understand it, but the idea of Catelyn in so much pain cause him pain. Slowly a few tears trickled down Theon’s cheek, the man who had raised him, the man who had showed him more kindness than his own father was dead, it may be weakness, and the Starks probably all hated him, but right now he was mad, sad, and hurt because Eddard was dead and because the woman who had taught him to ride, and had watched over him when he was sick was in so much pain. Theon couldn’t process his sadness, he didn’t understand it or why he was feeling it, but right now he just felt the pain. Bunching his hand into a fist he punched the tree, he punched it again as he cried trying to force these feelings out of him, force the weakness away. Theon could feel the his skin break against the bark of the tree, and he could feel the warm blood trickle down his hands, but he didn’t care. He kept hitting the tree, until the tears dried from his eyes, and he reached a point of calmness again.

He had been weak and now his hands had paid the price, Theon was furious at himself, he should be glad that Eddard was dead, the old man had done nothing but look down on him and keep him prisoner. Theon uncorked the flask he’d brought with him and drained it. Most of the wine filled his belly, the rest went to clean his cuts on his hands. Theon walked back towards the camp grabbing some bandages for his hands along the way. After he wrapped his hands the Kraken made his way to Robb’s, Lord Robb’s now, tent. Theon wouldn’t say it out loud but Robb was the closest thing he had to a friend, and he should be there for the new Warden of the North. Theon wasn’t good at empathy or emotions, but he knew Robb would need somebody to talk to somebody who wasn’t one of his bannermen and Theon would do his best to at least try and support Robb. As Robb walked in Theon could see the change in his posture, this was not the same man who had woken up this morning, this was a man who had felt real pain. Robb had the same haunted look in his that Theon had seen on his mother’s and Father’s faces when his brothers had died, or whenever they’d been seriously hurt or sick. It was the look that people wore when something bad had happened to somebody they loved, Theon’s parents had never looked at him like that, nobody had ever looked at him like that. Theon couldn’t help but wonder whether despite his efforts to hide his confused feelings, whether he had the same look in his eyes. Theon didn’t stand when Robb entered the tent, Robb may be the new lord, but as of right now he wasn’t going to stand every time the younger man entered.

”That they did, and one day you will get to stick Joffrey’s head on a spike. They did it to make you weak, to scare you, and to quiet any whispers of rebellion. The king is afraid of you. You can either keep crying and I’ll go find you a skirt to wear, or you can take some of this wine and prove to me that you are a wolf.” Theon took another swig from the flask of wine before holding it out to Robb. Motivational speaking wasn’t his strong suit, but seeing Robb all emotional made him sick, and there were very few problems wine, violence, or women couldn’t solve.

[Robb Stark]

His friends straight words had hit where they had aimed and Robb raised his head gratefully towards the man, who had been just a boy when the two had met for the first time. Robb looked at the mans face, and for an short second he saw in its place the face of the Greyjoy boy who had came home with their father as he returned from the war. When they had first seen him come through the gates in company with their father, his mother had leant down slightly and told him too be good to Theon, and treat him as he would his brothers. Eager to meet a new face who looked little as the ones he was used to, the two had became the best of friends, at least from Robbs perspective, and someone that he could trust. His eyes dragged off and went to the flask offered him. Taking a step up he let his hand close around its neck.

'' You're right. '' His voice began as he gave the man an shallow nod. He knew that the mans words were true, that the young king was probably pissing himself in fear of the Northern host that was marching, getting closer and closer to the Capital with every day that passed. What felt like an lifetime ago, Robb had called the banners with the goal to save his father from captivity, but that war had ended a few hours ago with the arrival of the raven. Now, he lead a war to kill the king.

'' There will be no mercy for Joffrey. '' He spat behind gritted teeth as he sat down on the opposite side of the table. '' I wish there would be an easier way for me to meet him, so that I could defeat him and ask him why. '' The fire that had began to grow within Robb was obvious, his eyes turning to the flask again as he took a swig before offering it to Theon. '' For father. ''




Theon Greyjoy