Chapter Text
When Robb was 8 years old, his father went to war. It wasn’t the first time; Robb had heard the stories of the war that happened when he was little, and he could see the physical proof of it in the existence of his half-brother Jon.
The King of the Iron Islands apparently rebelled against King Robert, and Ned had been called to put him in his place. Robb suspected his father was called for the job in particular because of the mark that had appeared on his arm about a year earlier, showing a picture of a kraken. Though there was no name there yet, Balon Greyjoy had only one daughter, so it would make the most sense if it was her. It had been quite a significant moment for him, and Sansa had been excited at the idea of him marrying a noble who was also his soulmate – not everyone was so lucky – but the thought of marrying this girl named Yara didn’t seem all that appealing. Besides, he could hardly marry the daughter of a traitor, could he?
---
The day after his father left, Robb felt a burning sensation on his wrist, similar to what he’d felt when the Greyjoy crest had appeared, warped and blurry as it was at first. He pulled down his sleeve to have a look, and see if he could maybe make out the ‘Y’ from the beginning of her name. He saw that part of his arm burning red, then fading to brown, then black, as the letters began to appear. The first letter might have been a ‘Y,’ but he wasn’t sure, and the lowercase letters were totally indecipherable. Still, he felt a little disheartened for some reason at the apparent confirmation of his father’s suspicion.
When he talked to Jon about it at archery practice, the other boy was a little confused. “Are you sure that’s a Y?” He asked, before revealing his arm, which showed an image of a skull with huge tusks, and a fuzzy name with lots of consonants that definitely seemed to begin with a ‘Y,’ “Only… my soulmate’s name starts with a Y and it doesn’t look like that.”
“Maybe it’s because it’s not clear enough yet, or maybe they come in different fonts.” Robb reasoned.
“I’ve never heard of that,” Jon said, smirking, before loading his bow again, “and I don’t think that’s a Y.” The arrow hit the bullseye.
---
A few weeks later, Winterfell received a raven from Pyke. Apparently, this rebel “king” hadn’t managed to put up too much of a fight, and surrendered after losing two of his sons. The letter said Ned was planning on recovering there for a little while before returning home with Balon’s daughter as hostage/ward/future daughter-in-law. But Robb was beginning to suspect Jon was right; each time he looked at his arm, that first letter seemed less and less like a ‘Y’ and more and more like a ‘T,’ and the name seemed to have more than four letters as well.
He didn’t really know what to do – he didn’t want to marry someone who wasn’t right for him, but it might be too late to tell his father not to bring her here. Jon said it might be best to find out who else it could be, and to do that he’d need to ask Maester Luwin. The old man scared him a little, as did the idea of the answer he might find, but he reminded himself he was a Stark of Winterfell and climbed the spiral staircase to the library nonetheless.
“Maester Luwin?” He said breathlessly as he walked through the door.
“Yes, Robb?” The old man was sat at a desk, meticulously copying a manuscript of some kind.
“Well…” He didn’t really know what to say, so he just stretched out his arm where the name was still slowly appearing.
“Ah yes, your soulmate mark,” he glanced at it, then back at Robb’s face, “are you not excited about the news of your father’s victory?”
“It’s not that, it’s…” Robb shook his head a little and pointed at the name, “Who do you think this could be.”
“Oh my, that doesn’t seem to say Yara, now, does it?” The Maester squinted at the boy’s arm. “I had feared your father was making too big of an assumption. Not everyone gets a soulmate they can marry under the laws of the Seven Kingdoms.” He seemed strangely wistful at that, but stood and turned before Robb could read his expression fully.
“What do you mean? Is it a bastard?” The boy asked, still puzzled.
“Oh, I don’t think so, no.” He replied, selecting a book from his shelf showing noble family trees. “It looks to me like your arm has a legitimate and quite important name on it.” He flicked through the book and opened it on the page showing living Greyjoys, pointing at the last child of Balon, Theon.
Robb’s eyes widened, and he looked again at his arm, the Maester was right, he was sure of it. “But…”
“It’s okay that it’s another boy, Robb. I think you’d be surprised how many people have a soulmate of the same gender and just don’t tell anyone.” It was clear the old man was trying to be comforting, but the meaning of what he’d just said hadn’t escaped Robb.
“So I won’t be able to be with him?” He asked dejectedly.
“Oh, no, Robb. I don’t think you will.” He replied.
The young boy ran from the room, trying to stop tears from falling down his cheeks until he knew he was alone.
He got to his bedroom eventually and heaved wretched sobs into his pillow until he ran out of energy, before curling under his furs and falling into a deep, troubled sleep.
---
Later, there was a knock at his door. It was Jon.
“Leave me alone” Robb called into his pillow.
“You missed dinner.” Jon said, ignoring him. “I brought you some bread and stew.”
“I’m not hungry.” Still, he sat up, looking out the window so Jon wouldn’t see his sore eyes.
“Well, I’ll leave it here for you anyway.” There was a pause as Jon put the food on the bedside table and sat beside him. “What happened with Maester Luwin?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He said, and picked up the food so he wouldn’t be forced to talk.
Jon smiled at him. “Arya was a bit of a menace at dinner. She just ran around the table and wouldn’t sit down, eventually father managed to catch her. I thought for a moment he’d resort to tying her to the chair, but she seemed to give in once she sat down, like she’d accepted defeat. Or maybe she realised she was hungry after all.”
“Uh huh.” Robb replied.
“Did the Maester work out who it was? On your arm, I mean.” Jon asked.
“Yup.”
Jon waited for him to say something, “Well…?”
Robb sighed, putting down the bowl and turned to face his brother. “It’s Theon, Balon’s youngest son.”
The other boy seemed shocked for a moment, eyes wide yet distant. “Oh,” he finally said, as though everything suddenly made sense.
Robb just nodded and bit his lip.
“Well, what are you going to do?” Jon asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe I should just marry Yara anyway.” Robb shrugged sullenly, going back to his food.
“No way. She’s not right for you. You need to tell father, he’ll understand.” Jon argued.
“No, he won’t.” The boy snapped, before collecting himself again. “I mean, how could he have been so sure it was Yara unless he wouldn’t accept it being one of Balon’s sons?”
“Maybe it hadn’t occurred to him.” Jon tried to put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, but it was shrugged off.
“I doubt it, Maester Luwin said a lot of people get soulmates of the same gender. How could he not have thought of it?”
“Well, perhaps father would be okay with it if he knew?” Jon suggested, “Who knows, he might even take Theon back instead of Yara.”
“Look, Jon. It doesn’t matter anyway. I can’t marry another man, so what’s the point in getting father to bring him back?”
“At least you’d get to meet him.” Jon said, and got up to leave.
---
Though the night before Jon’s idea had seemed like a mad fantasy, this morning it seemed to make more and more sense. It was at least worth a shot, right?
So Robb picked some nice clothes that didn’t have any stains or mothbites on them, and went to meet his mother in the great hall. In his head, he reeled through a few arguments he thought might go in his favour, but decided to leave the soulmate thing till last, so he wouldn’t have to reveal that information if she seemed convinced by the fact that a son is more valuable hostage than a daughter. If she was accepting, however, Robb thought Theon being his soulmate might be a more convincing argument to her. But he didn’t want to risk telling her unless he had to.
His mind was racing and the conversation was a blur he could barely remember afterwards, he faintly remembered showing her his arm, but one sentence stood out to him. His mother had said, “I’ll ask Maester Luwin to send your father a raven.”
Robb managed to find Jon in the stables, brushing his horse. Limply, he went to give him a hug.
“Did you talk to your mother then?” Jon laughed.
“Yeah.” Robb pulled back, putting his hands squarely on Jon’s shoulders. “She’s gonna tell Father, Jon.”
“That’s huge!” Jon gripped his brother’s arms at the elbows. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Robb said. “Wanna go riding?”