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1.
Age 8
Theon was many things for certain - quiet, shy, a bit odd (if you listened to Jon) but anyone who knew him could tell you that he most definitely was not naive. He no longer believed that his family was the same as any other, no longer thought that the other kids bore bruises under their clothes too or that their mothers cried more than they did. He hadn't thought anything as childish as that for several years now. But where that whimsical hope had departed, now left a light jealous streak that he was still unsure on how to curb. It wasn't fair, he often mused, that his classmates could laugh and gush about their parents whilst he cursed every tick of the clock that brought him back to his father's hands. Those feelings were probably, he supposed, why he ended up distancing himself from the others. The other kids got the message quite quickly, and he was soon dubbed 'the weird one' that no one really wanted to be near.
No one apparently informed Robb Stark of that, though.
His family had just moved to the area from the Riverlands. He was tall with untamed red curls and bright blue eyes. He and his brother Jon had joined their year and whilst both had become popular within the group, the former had also decidedly attached himself to Theon's side. No matter what he did, Robb seemed to follow with his large smile of his and had soon dubbed the two of them best friends. Theon had never had a friend before, unless he counted Asha and she was spending less and less time with him the closer she got to fourteen, so Robb's enthusiasm had left him at a loss. His new companion, undeterred as always, began to teach him the 'most important' parts of being a friend.
One of those parts was apparently to go to each other’s houses. Which was now he had managed to get himself stuck in a situation such as this, shifting from foot to foot in the school parking lot as he waited for his turn to clamber into Mr Stark's car.
Jon had managed to weasel his way to the front seat, with Robb taking his apparently usual back seat and their sister Sansa strapped into her own car seat as she rambled on and on about what she had done that day in a way that only a five-year-old could seem to manage. Mr Stark had cut in every so often with short comments or questions directed his way. He asked about his family a few times, and Theon replied with quiet snippets that he had mastered long before. He understood the questioning though. Robb often spoke of his father the police officer and how big and brave he was. In the last year the police had been called to their house for 'domestic disturbances' more times than should have been allowed, so the name Greyjoy more than likely instantly placed worry within his mind for his eldest child. That was without touching the subject of his brothers, who had arrived home more in police cars than by their own accord. The elder seemed satisfied, however, with his answers and the remainder of the ride was occupied by comfortable silence.
The jealously spiked back as they pulled into the Stark driveway. Robb's house was easily twice, maybe three times the size of his own little dwelling in Pyke. But Robb smiled at him as he grabbed his hand and pulled him to the door and, for once, the streak seemed to subside.
Age 10
The Stark living room was always loud - six children always made it quite an easy task, but Christmas was always an exceptionally hectic time. Theon had spent every Christmas of his short life hiding in his room, hoping to every god that his dad got drunk quickly so that he would go to sleep. Never before had he been woken up by a way too hyper Brandon at an hour too early for mankind. Robb had laughed at his mock frustration. "I told you that was going to happen." Theon just rolled his eyes with a smile. He had been warned a half dozen times about the craziness that is Stark Christmases, but he had accepted the invite all the same - Christmas with his best friend was too good of an opportunity to be put off by a few siblings.
By the time the clock struck nine am, the floor had become carpeted in wrapping paper and boxes from toys. Sansa was busy creating a full plot for her two dolls, whilst Bran, Arya and Jon raced cars on the former's new track. Robb and Theon were sat on the sofa, with the former gushing over books that he had received.
"And here you go Theon."
The boy's head whipped around at Mrs Stark's (“Call me Cat, Theon, everyone does.”) soft voice. In cradled in one arm she held baby Rickon, whom Theon had held when he had first come back from the hospital. In her other hand she had an outstretched present wrapped beautifully in bright orange paper. He remembered briefly mentioning to Robb once or twice that orange was his favourite colour. (“You know, like sunsets." He had mumbled, embarrassed. "They're just nice to look at.”)
With furrowed brows he slowly stretched out his own hand and gasped the present. Careful fingers pulled back the paper, revealing a leather-bound book. Gold stitching decorated the edges, with crisp golden letters spelling out 'Theon' along the spine.
"Robb told us that you're enjoying art." His head snapped up once more, with Eddard Stark now being the one to look at him. "We figured that you might want a sketchbook of your own."
Theon's mouth was slightly agape as he brushed his fingers through the papers before he swallowed quietly and smiled. "I love it. Thank you."
"You do art?" Arya jumped up from her game and ran over to the elder boy, causing Bran to exclaim at the sudden disruption. "Can you draw me?"
"And me!" Sansa perked up, her dolls momentarily forgotten. "Please?"
"Children, it is Theon's decision what he does with his talent." Eddard's voice cut though the two sisters, with both mumbling out apologies to the other boy.
"You probably wouldn't even like it," Theon was quiet, his new book clutched close to his body. "I just like art, doesn't mean I'm good."
"You are though!" Robb smiled brightly. "You're the best in our class, everyone knows that. Even Roslin has said how good you are - just like she's really, really good at painting!"
Theon curled up on himself slightly in an attempt to hide his heated cheeks. Greyjoys did not blush, and even if he somehow did he couldn't allow Jon to see or he wouldn't hear the end of it until the next Christmas. And though the encouragement was made up of only words they were Robb's words – and so they were true.
Throughout the next year each Stark sibling received a drawing of themselves on their respective birthday, along with a small gift of toy or chocolate or something that made the gift for them. And when Robb mentioned that his parent's anniversary was approaching, they too were gifted a drawing of themselves sat together. Each of the drawings were toiled over with care and skill, with smiles looking all too realistic and eyes as loving as they were in the flesh. And upon each of gifting every Stark commented on how perfect it was, and each time Theon smiled – for he knew their words were true.
Age 14
"Theon? What...what happened?"
The elder boy forced himself to look up from the floor and into the eyes of his friend. He knew how he must have looked, black eye, busted lip and a nose that had only just begun to stop bleeding. He kept a tight grip on the strap of his backpack and wiped a bead of sweat off of his other hand on his trouser leg. “I-” He swallowed, his voice coming out tighter and strained. “I came out to my dad.”
A sharp gasp left his mouth as Robb threw himself into a tight hug, but Theon quickly found himself melting into the warmth of his best friend. When he had first questioned his sexuality, Robb had been the first person that he had told. He had grasped his arm tightly and smiled, quickly rebutting his fears.
“You’re not a freak. Some guys like girls and some like other guys. So what if you're gay? It’s just another part of you.”
Baron Greyjoy had not felt the same.
“Robb, who is it?” Catelyn voice rang though the hallway as she approached the pair, as did her own gasp as she caught Theon’s face. “Gods, Theon, what happened to you?”
The boy found himself unable to supress a flinch when her hand raised to his cheek, but his fears remained unfounded as Catelyn’s touch was softer than any he could remember having come before. Even Asha, who had always cared for him before having left two years prior, had been firm with him. Not unkind, and never close to the level of their father, but always distant in her own way.
“Robb, go to the bathroom and grab a washcloth. Ned watch the boy, I’ll get some water.” Theon was unsure of when or how they had arrived in the Stark kitchen, yet he found himself sat on one of their stools with Eddard looking at him, his brows furrowed in a way that Jon had managed to almost perfect. A cup of water was being placed in his hands.
“Drink up boy.” It never ceased to amaze him now soft Mr Stark’s voice could be when he willed it to be. “It’s alright, take your time.”
Theon tried, he swore he did, but his fingers were too limp and his hands too shaky. The cup, which he noticed was thankfully one of Rickon’s plastic ones, slipped from his grasp and clattered on the floor. He quickly jumped to the floor, grabbing a discarded tea towel from the side of the sink and attempting to mop up the spilt water with it. Eddard’s hand clasped onto his shoulder and this time his whole body seemed to shake.
“It’s alright Theon, just sit down.”
He stood yet stayed next to the puddle as the elder man began to clean it up himself. Little over a few seconds passed before the mess had been sorted and yet Theon stayed glued in his stance. Eddard looked at him, brows furrowed once more.
The young teen swallowed gently before asking, “You’re…not mad?”
“No, of course not.” Ned’s voice left no room for argument in a manner that only left Theon more confused.
“But I messed up.”
Both hands returned to his shoulders as Ned knelt down and looked straight into the boy’s eyes. “It was an accident, son. You did nothing wrong.”
Theon’s throat tried several times to swallow the lump that had formed with little success, but if any tears appeared then they went unmentioned by Ned, as well as Catelyn and Robb. Once he followed Robb to the other boy’s room he decided not to question how a mattress was already made for him on the floor and simply allowed himself to be swallowed by his exhaustion.
Age 17
The sound of laughter rang out through the hallway as the last straggle of students each raced to get out of the school, eager to start the weekend. Theon found himself being pulled along by Jon's new actual-girlfriend Ygritte, who apparently had taken a liking to him. Her boyfriend, along with Robb as well as Sam and Gilly - close friends of Ygritte and recent additions to their group, followed along behind. The younger Greyjoy was still dressed in his sports kit, having just come back from archery club. The others had all waited for him with the promise of going to the ice cream parlour nearby after he had finished, a tradition that had started at the beginning of the year when their group only consisted of the brothers and Theon and had continued even as their friendship circle had grown. All that had changed was that more people would crowd onto the bleachers on the field and watch him shoot.
Ygritte rambled on to the group as a whole about a new movie out, some comedy with lots of blood staring Jaime Lannister that she was trying to convince the rest of them to go and see with her.
"Apparently Lannister is actually good in this one." She smiled, fire in her eyes that none of them had ever seen extinguished. "At least there's more than one person in that family who has some talent."
The somewhat famous actor's nephew Joffery had gone to their school up until an incident the year prior involving his bruised then-girlfriend Sansa, 5 extremely pissed off siblings and Theon's blood-stained knuckles. (He'd been suspended for three days but always said told people how it was worth it, especially since the little monster had soon been transferred). With the damage from the 'slight accident' done, the family was working on pulling themselves back up to the top of the social ladder. The only one who seemed to be different was their history teacher Tyrion, who had long since disassociated himself from the spotlight and, apart from contact with Jaime, had released himself from the Lannisters entirely in all but name.
"You're sure this one isn't a horror movie? You said the last one was a comedy too." Gilly asked as she clutched Sam's hand.
"Okay, that one was a horror-comedy so I wasn't really wrong." The redhead shrugged. "But yes, this one is defiantly just a comedy - it just so happens to have a lot of blood in it too."
"Theon!"
The group paused only a few steps outside the main doors at the sudden yell. Each of them turned, but the boy in question found himself stepping forward alone.
"Asha?" He didn't recall his voice being as small or quiet in years. Not since his father at least, and he had not stepped a foot into his childhood home in three years.
A light hand rested on his arm. He turned and saw Robb looking at him, concern etched across his features. "You okay?"
Theon smiled back softly and genuinely. He'd dropped his use of fake grins not long into his permanent stay at the Stark household. He had no reason for it anymore.
"Yeah," He confirmed, "I'm good. You guys go ahead, I'll catch up."
The main bulk of the group began to walk away, the conversation renewed with as much vigour as previously found, and yet Robb remained. Theon looked at him, the smile still upon his face until Robb smiled softly back and turned to re-join their friends.
"Is that the Stark boy?" He turned at the re-emergence of his sister's voice. "The one you were friends with as a child?"
"The same."
"He didn't half grow bad." Asha lent to the side so she could look at the retreating figure. Theon took the sight in. It was her, undoubtedly – five years had not changed too much. She was taller, her previously lithe figure having developed some muscle and yet still as thin as all Greyjoys seemed to be. She had cropped her hair close to her head with only a fringe and a small amount on the top left free and had acquired tattoos in the years gone, the ending of a sleeve poking out from her jacket. She leant against a motorcycle that she had not owned when she left, and yet it seemed as if it has always been there, as if it was just an extension of Asha herself.
"Where did you go?" He saw no point in beating around the bush.
"You know as well as I do that we couldn't stay with dad. You left too."
He tried to keep the resentment out of his voice. "Not my choice."
"I gathered." Asha looked at him, her eyes softening. "I went to dad first, but you weren't there. He said-" She cut herself off.
"What?"
"You won't like it."
"I can guarantee he's probably said worse."
She looked off to the side once more, her jaw set, and bit out, "He said that his sons died six years ago. That-" She swallowed harshly, "that faggots didn't count as sons."
Theon stayed silent.
He thought.
The words hurt, they were designed to do just that and he knew it. He knew that a part of his dad died with his brothers in the gun battle when he was eleven. The policeman – Officer Baratheon, had come over several times before and yet that time had been so different. His dad had sat in his chair unmoving whilst his mother cried his heart out into the chest of the officer. Asha had taken him upstairs to her bedroom and played music whilst he drew. No one had recovered that night, not really. His mother became delusional, calling for her dead children whilst ignoring those she had. She was placed in a care home two months later after striking a neighbour who tried to help her see reason. The neighbours didn't talk to them again, and less than a year afterwards there had been only two Greyjoys left in the house that had once proudly carried six.
Then there was one.
Theon supposed that the part that hurt the most was that he wasn't surprised that his father had said those words. He could picture him spitting them out at his daughter as he clutched a bottle tightly in his hand.
Theon wondered whether he had ever been Balon Greyjoy's son at all.
The breath left him as he was enveloped in Asha's arms. He clutched back on before realising what he was doing, it had been so long since the two siblings had hugged.
"I don't care who you fuck." Asha whispered, her voice strong and laced with genuine passion. "I don't care if you fuck every man in this town. You are my brother Theon. You are a Greyjoy."
"I'm not." They both pretended to ignore his voice break. "I don't think I've ever been a Greyjoy. Not like you, or Rodrik, or Maron. The closest I've ever been is-"
"A Stark." She finished. She pulled back and took his face in her hands. Last time they had seen one another she had bent down to him to say her goodbyes, and now she looked up to meet his eyes. "Then be a Stark Theon. Just let me be there for it."
"Of course." He whispered. The only confirmation that Asha had heard him was the tightening of her grip. "Of course."
"And if that Stark boy hurts you I'll kill him."
Her words soon caught up with him and he tried his best to swallow his embarrassment. "We're not, Robb and I aren't even-"
"I'm not blind. You may not be dating but you want to. I might now have seen you for a while, but I know that you don’t just look at anyone like that." Even whilst avoiding eye contact, he knew that she was smirking. His arguments left his head as he simply sighed and fell limp in her arms once more. "Just don't get hurt, little brother." His eyes slid shut.
5.
Age 20
Theon groaned as the light flooded the room and attempted to pull his duvet up in order to shield his eyes. His best friend, however, seemed to disagree with him and pulled the covers down to the foot of the bed.
"Nope!" He announced too loudly for seven in the morning. "Your exam is in three hours and you need to get ready so you're not running to get there again."
"That was one time!" Theon was aware that he was whining but it was early, it was his second to last exam of his degree and the sun was too bright.
"One time too many. Get up!"
The exhausted man only gave a non-committal grunt in reply, which soon became a yelp as he was pulled from his bed and onto the floor. "Robb! What the fuck!"
"Shower!"
"No, you've killed me." He lay spread out across the floor of their shared apartment bedroom. "See this, this is a dead best friend."
"Theon, I will put you in the shower myself. With or without your clothes." Robb smirked down at him.
Theon jumped to his feet suddenly, hoping that the sudden change would hide his reddening face (he was perfectly aware that he only blushed around or because of Robb, thank you very much). He tried to place one foot in front of the other in an attempt to run towards the shower, lest Robb try to make true on his threat, but managed to instead tangle his feet amongst each other and ended up back on the ground. Robb looked at him from his unchanged place, a bewildered expression on his face.
"What the hell was that about?" Robb questioned, his eyes wide.
"Nothing. Gonna go take a shower, that's it." He tried to push himself back up but found himself blocked by his friend as he crouched down.
"Theon, what's going on? You do this every time I say anything like that. What's wrong? If you're not comfortable with me saying that then just tell me and I'll stop." His voice was matted with concern.
Theon swallowed. Robb had threatened before to place him into the shower, or to kiss him awake if he slept in too long. Each time he had attempted to brush of the jabs and continue on but apparently he hadn't been as subtle as he had wished. "I just- Gods Robb, you don't know what you've done to me."
"What?" His friend seemed mortified. "What did I do? Whatever it is I'm so sorry, I'll never do it again-"
"It isn't you." Theon pushed himself up so that he was sat with his knees drawn into his chest. "You- I think I love you."
"I love you too Theon, you know that."
"No," He tried not to bury his head in his knees, "not just like that. I don't know when things changed, maybe I've always been in love with you but I know it's impossible. I know you won't want it but I don't know how- Robb, the fuck are you doing?"
Robb had begun to laugh about halfway through Theon's confession, in what the latter had first assumed to be disbelief, but it was beginning to border on hysterical. Eventually the Stark man managed to calm himself enough to look his friend in the eye. "We're both fucking blind."
The other man blinked once. "What?"
Robb chortled once before leaning forward and grabbing Theon's cheeks in his hands. "Mate, I'm bi. I think-" He looked down before glancing back up at him. "I think you made me realise that."
Theon wondered if it was possible for a brain to short circuit entirely. All replies that he could have possibly pulled out seemed to disappear from his head as he simply stared at his friend's face.
Robb leaned closer. "May I?" Theon was unaware of how he managed to find the strength to nod but found it completely worth it when his lips were captured by Robb's own. Both of their lips were dry and somewhat cracked, the summer having not been kind at all to them, yet neither seemed to notice or care. Rather they seemed to become lost in each other's face as they tried desperately to make up for lost time. When Robb pulled back for a breath, his friend found himself chasing the warmth of his lips.
Robb laughed quietly, "I take it you enjoyed it."
"Shut up." Theon whispered. "Just kiss me."
Robb complied.
+1
Age 25
For the infinite time in the last year, Theon thanked the Gods that Sansa had chosen wedding planning of all careers to go into. Having your fiancé's sister plan your wedding cut out a lot of middle men and made the whole process as stress free as they could all manage.
No planning could have prepared him for the big day, however. He tried desperately to will his palms to stop sweating as he mused how scared he must have looked. His fingers had shaken too much to do up his own tie, Asha having to step in and help in what she had dubbed ' yet another best woman duty '. Robb, however, looked as calm as he always did. A gentle brush of his thumb over Theon's hand helped to ground them both as they stood.
"Robb Stark," The officiator's voice brought them back to the present, "do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
"I do."
Theon would swear for the rest of his life that he spotted a tear leave Jon Snow's eye as he stood behind Robb as his own Best Man, a fact that not only would he hold over his head for a long time, but also gave him strength to continue without Asha having to catch his fainting body.
"Theon Greyjoy, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
"Fuck yes." He couldn't find himself to be ashamed that he had sworn in front of the entire congregation – little Rickon had turned fifteen not long before so at least he wasn't corrupting any young minds as much as he already had. He heard several laughs from the audience anyway, one defiantly belonging to Arya (and another sounding suspiciously like Ned's own). Robb rolled his eyes, the smile taking over his face.
"Then it is my pleasure to pronounce you two husband and husband. You may kiss one another."
It was not their first kiss – not by a long shot, but it was possibly their sweetest.
"Ladies and Gentleman, Mr and Mr Greyjoy-Stark." A specific choice between the two of them. As much pain as Theon's father had given him over the years, his mother was still a Greyjoy as was his sister. But now he was a Stark as well, or perhaps he had always truly been one.
Perhaps it had never truly mattered.
Robb clasped his hand lightly as they walked back down the aisle together, smiles bright on both of their faces as they were cheered and congratulated by all – and Theon couldn't help but finally feel at home.