your father’s body was judgement day - closed to robb stark [september 26th]

tgreyjoys:

His heart fucking breaks with that, and he pulls Robb even closer, guiding his head to rest against his neck and – Jesus, he can feel the tears against his skin and he feels like crying himself. He feels that would be almost insulting to Robb’s grief, however, and he forces himself to gather some composure.

It’s so fucking difficult though. He can’t bear seeing Robb like this, having to endure this.

Robb was right. It wasn’t fair.

If he was a superstitious man, he’d suspect the Starks were cursed.

“You don’t have to stop it. You’re not to blame, Robb, it’s the fucking government, the one you stood up to.” He turns his face into Robb’s hair, breathing him in. “I’m not going anywhere, I swear. Not ever again. Not without you.”

That doesn’t calm him at all, truth be told. Paranoia has finally started to set deep in his bones and he bites his lip, unsure. Is it actually wise, for Theon to be so close? Everyone around Robb seems to be dying, why should Theon be the exception? 

He’s never wanted so badly to take everyone he loves, put them in a plane and fly somewhere - anywhere, far away from here. New York wasn’t so bad. They had more than enough money, it’d be easy enough. Rickon and Bran would surely love it, it’d be an adventure. 

But they’re Starks and they’re the heart of Scotland. This country, this child of a country who’s just beginning to give its first few steps, needs them. It needs the Young Wolf. 

He speaks against Theon’s neck, his voice muffled into his skin. 

“It wasn’t an accident. I know it. I’ll find out… I’ll give him justice.”

your father’s body was judgement day - closed to robb stark [september 26th]

tgreyjoys:

It takes a couple of moments for Robb to respond, and in those seconds, Theon fears rejection – because if Robb pulls away, Theon doesn’t know what else to do, doesn’t know what else he can offer by way of comfort.

Thankfully, he soon yields to Theon’s touch, buries one hand in his hair whilst the other hugs him close, and Theon clutches him back with all his might.

“I know,” he murmurs softly, bringing one of his hands up to cradle his neck whilst the other remains at the small of his back. “He didn’t…” God, but life is cruel. He’s lost an uncle, a friend, and now a father, how much more is a man supposed to take?

He hopes Robb can take it all. He hopes this is not his breaking point, although it very well might be.

“I don’t…” How does he even begin to answer that? What could Robb do? If he’d grieved his own father, he might have been able to offer him advice, something that could console him. But when Theon had learned of Balon Greyjoy’s death, all he had felt was numb.

It hadn’t been much different with his brothers. He wonders if that makes him some kind of monster.

“You don’t have to do anything. There’s… Just don’t think about that right now.”

He can say nothing to that, there’s nothing he can say to that, so he only hugs Theon tighter, tries to focus on how warm and solid and alive he’s in his arms. He can feel every breath Theon takes, could even feel his heartbeat if he concentrated. It’s such a cliché but it immediately sends him thinking, makes him wonder. What is it, that keeps it all together and functioning? Who or what gets to decide when that perfect machine collapses? 

Am I next? His uncle Brandon has been dead for decades, even before Robb was born, so it only makes sense. Do they want to kill all of us? 

But not his mother. Or his siblings. I won’t let them. Not again.

He can’t die, because he can’t let anything happen to them. 

“Everyone’s dying. Benjen, Eddie, dad. Even fucking Daryn Hornwood is dead, and all those murders in England… I don’t know how to stop it.” And now he’s shaking, the tears clouding his vision again. He closes his eyes tightly to get rid of them. “Don’t die, Theon. Promise me you won’t die. I can’t lose you too.”

your father’s body was judgement day - closed to robb stark [september 26th]

tgreyjoys:

But he can’t even think of anything else to say, and so he’ll have to rely on actions – he crosses the room in several quick strides and wraps his arms around his boyfriend, pulls him close, hoping he won’t jerk away. Praying he isn’t crossing some kind of boundary here, even if Robb was his boyfriend – but what was proper protocol when your partner’s father is fucking dead?

If he believed in his uncle’s God, any sort of higher power at all, he’d curse them for all of this, how many more goddamn deaths is Robb supposed to take?

But he doesn’t, he doesn’t believe in much more than the man before him and thus all he can do is hold him and hope that is enough, even though he already knows it is not.

Theon crosses the room, hugs him close and Robb just stands there for a moment, unmoving. He’s supposed to hug him back, he knows, but it’s like since last night everything has slowed down, his reflexes have turned too clumsy. He slowly raises his arms, then stops.

And he clutches Theon back tightly, burying one hand in his hair and the other hugging his back with all his force. 

“It’s not fair,” he mumbles, and his voice breaks but it doesn’t stop him. “He was good… it’s not fair. He didn’t deserve it. I don’t… I don’t know what to do.” What are you supposed to do, when the man whose steps you’ve been following your entire life is gone? When those steps disappear right before your eyes? “What am I going to do?”

your father’s body was judgement day - closed to robb stark [september 26th]

tgreyjoys:

And that’s where Robb finds him, in the midst of grappling with a fucking Death Lord. His entrance is enough to give his foe the upper hand, and Theon curses, pausing the game and turning to greet his boyfriend.

Holy shit.

Robb looks like fucking shit, his eyes red raw and it’s clear he’s been crying. Pretty fucking hard by the state of him, and Theon immediately springs to his feet, concern etched in his expression.

“Robb? What’s happened?”

I don’t have to do this. That’s what he tells himself, even though his feet don’t seem to register his thoughts. I don’t have to. It’ll be okay, if I don’t.

He could just let Theon find out by himself, let him turn on the tv and see the news, as it would happen sooner or later. He could let Theon come to him instead, simply sit and wait for his comfort. Telling Bran has been bad enough, Robb could use a break. For all that he promised his mother he’d do it and be useful and help, he had never quite expected it to be like this. 

But honestly, he needs Theon to know. He needs -fuck it, fuck it all- to hug him and maybe cry some more. The last time today, he swears; might as well take advantage that he already looks like shit. And once he composes himself, he’ll get it together. He has to. 

Theon is playing some video game -what was its name? Robb’s played it enough times but he can’t seem to recall it- and he watches him in silence for a moment, holding his breath. He wishes his biggest worry right now wasn’t, will he care? Robb’s not sure he could deal with Theon awkwardly fidgeting and fumbling for words. Watching himself and his family crumbling apart is agony carved in his flesh but he’s not sure he’s ready to face anything that isn’t pain. 

It’d feel wrong.

He’s hesitating, wondering if he should just leave and let Theon be blissfully oblivious, but Theon catches sight of him and - too late. Too bloody slow.

“I-” He wets his lips, they feel too dry. They might even crack. “There was…” His arms are hanging by his sides, big and useless, so useless. “My father’s dead. His car crashed. He’s… dead.” Dead, dead, dead. Better get used to it, Robb, not doing it won’t make it any less true. “Last night. It happened last night.”

(Source: robbstark)

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(Source: rchmadden, via robbstark)

.this is not like home. [[closed to robb stark - sept. 11th (early hours) ]]

tgreyjoys:

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(Source: stonehearting, via dreamingundone)

i had not seen you underneath my skin | robb stark & ramsay snow | september 13

redhelm:

His candor is completely amiable, totally poe-faced, a groomed gentleman throughout to the point that he barely even has to think about what to say. And Ramsay practically follows him down the road, clasping his hand and smiling nonchalantly.

“Pleasure’s all mine.”

I didn’t know Roose had a son, Robb Stark says.It doesn’t smack of an insult.

Well, you should, he thinks and looks down at the file.

Robb Stark’s ignorance is Ramsay’s opening; he doesn’t even seem to know about Domeric and therefore there’s no assumption that he may be some spectre instead. Some imposter who slid out of the shadows. He’s just the same as Robb Stark, standing here in the screened-sunlight and their work shirts. It’s the perfect disguise. 

“No,” he shakes his head. “No, I wasn’t. My father called me down in the recess and had me pick up some notes.” He realises that the other man looks rightly exhausted, the skin beneath his eyes transparent from stress and lack of sleep. “That bad is it?”

Robb smiles a bit as he lets go of Bolton’s hand, deciding that maybe he shouldn’t judge so early, now that the first impression’s come and passed without any remarkable detail. His stomach grumbles a bit and he hopes it’s not as loud as it seems from his point of view. In the distance, a phone won’t stop ringing and Robb wishes that someone would pick it up already. 

“Yeah, well, let’s just say you’re not missing out on anything particularly fun.” His eyes trail down to look at the notes. That’s more of a secretary’s work, to be honest, but he’s not going to point that out to a man he barely knows. “You have his eyes,” he says instead, sort of absent-mindedly, his head still in that meeting room and in Roose Bolton’s cold stare. “Do you have any siblings? Like our fathers, we’re going to work together someday, I might as well start getting to know you already. Assuming that you’ll continue Roose’s work, of course.”

.this is not like home. [[closed to robb stark - sept. 11th (early hours) ]]

tgreyjoys:

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