Work Text:
Dear Theon,
Dear Greyjoy,
Theon,
Greyjoy,
Jon sighed and put the quill down for a moment. When he had made the decision to reach out to the other man, he had not anticipated that it could be so hard.
When Theon and he had been both Wards to his Uncle Ned, (in the widest sense since Theon was always a hostage first and a ward second.) they had been at each other constantly for the most part. If his time in Winterfell had ended just a few months earlier he wouldn’t be here, back in King’s Landing struggling to quelch a yearning he barely understood.
Theon,
I write you after arriving in the capital I hope you are doing well, and your return home was everything you wanted it to be.
Knowing that our relationship didn’t have the best start, I hope you can appreciate me reaching out to you now, as a gesture of friendship. I miss you already. I do wish for our friendship to continue, even if it is complicated by the distance between our homes.
In good faith,
Jon.
He felt quiet silly for writing it, even after. Silently debating if he should just leave it here on his desk, burn it or just crawl in a hole and die, Jon remembered the way Theon had manhandled him against the heavy door and kissed him if both of their lives depended on it. (It sure had felt like it.)
Now back home (the word really did not fit for King’s Landing and he knew that this was the case for Rhaenys and Aegon as well…) he missed the quiet of the North already. In the Cownlands everything seemed to happen all it once. His siblings weren’t even married yet and already people were throwing their daughters at the spare prince. While all Jon wanted was to figure out his own tangled up feeling and mayhaps deal with his sexual frustration.
He waited for Theon to answer.
And waited.
But nothing happened.
So, Jon being as stubborn as he was, wrote another letter.
Theon!
I know you did receive my last later. I can practically see you laughing about letting me wait for an answer. You do always think you are so funny.
Maybe you don’t understand how hurtful it is to treat you like an adult and friend, while you still pull your pranks as if we were still no older than eleven! You are supposed to be three years my senior, you do remember that, right?
Was it all just a joke to you?
The last few honest moments of camaraderie we shared before our departure at White Harbor?
Did you convey attachment to me that you might not feel?
Maybe you are truly laughing at my attempts at friendship.
I thought our time together had ended on a promising note, that we would be able to talk and meet and train on equal respect and understanding.
I thought it meant something to you too.
Jon.
The right people around him noticed his foul temper soon. It was Rhaenys who had apparently suggested to his mother (actually it turned out to both their mothers) that it wasn’t merely the order to return to the capital that spoiled his mood.
Being a grand court there were already rumors flying. One was more outlandish and distant from the truth than the next.
He had deeply fallen in Love with a Snow girl up north and his Uncle Eddard had betrayed them to his father, which lead to their separation. (The people weren’t able to agree whether he had fallen for a lowly Lord’s bastard or for a daughter of his Late Uncle Brandon.)
Speaking of cousins: Some were very convinced he must have fallen in Love with one of the Stark girls but whether it was Sansa because she was so beautiful and amicable or Arya because she was truly of the North and like his mother, was debated with heat.
(Jon liked Sansa fine enough and treasured the slow moments of songs and stories they had occasionally shared, while Arya was so much like himself he had found the little sister he never had in her.)
Of course, there were the voices that swore he was jealous because he wanted to wed his sister. But again it wasn’t clear if it was out of some unrequited tragic love or because he was apparently very power-hungry and wanted his brother’s place.
(He should write the girls about the rumors. Arya would have something to laugh for at least a month, and Sansa would relish in the romantic tragedy of the tales, as untrue as they were.)
Instead of even wasting an ounce of attention to.. all that.
He wrote Theon a third time.
And a fourth
And maybe a fifth time.
But even when he watched the cheeky raven he had entrusted with the sixed letter take flight, he was already anticipating further silence. Silence that was telling enough and if Jon wasn’t so stubborn, he might have already acknowledged it as answer.
But it wasn’t fair, wasn’t it?
The Wedding came and went.
Rhaenys and Aegon seemed pleased enough with each other. Their father was definitely pleased with the match. And even Jon would let himself be talked to entertain the one or other Lady. He liked some of them well, would have be delighted to be their friends, but that was not what this was about.
He had even kissed the one or other pretty girl just to maybe chase his troublesome infatuation away. Margaery Tyrell had been sweet, but she only seemed to do what she thought would make him marry her, not what she as a person wanted. Her kisses were nice, pushy maybe but not as life-altering as the one at Whiteharbor.
Eventually when Jon was fearing that he should just move on, a letter arrived. The raven that had brought it to the Red Keep eyed the prince with curios black eyes.
Your Highness,
I ask you to cease the attempt at communication. House Greyjoy feels honored for the realm’s prince’s attention for its heir, but I do have too many responsibility to foster a friendship beyond friendly allegiance.
With well wishes,
Theon Greyjoy
Jon’s heart sank painfully. He had known that Baelon Greyjoy had his qualms with being under Targaryen rule, but he had never thought that those resentments extended to Jon and Theon as people.
But as a Prince he should have known that everything was political to him.
Maybe Theon had some romantic or at the very least sexual feelings for him and his father had forbidden him from staying further to the continent by not only growing up at Winterfell but by corresponding with a Targaryen so frequently.
Maybe he just wanted to proof that he was able to not only seduce women but highborn men too. What better person to brag about than a prince? (If that was the case he would have pushed to sleep with Jon at some point, right? It wouldn’t have been a desperate kiss at the end of their time together.)
Maybe Theon just did what he wanted to, not caring for other people’s feelings.
When he had flicked himself onto his bed to stew a bit in his misery, his sister knocked. How did he know it was Rhaenys? She did not wait for him to answer and just walked straight over to him, a thick sheet of parchment in her hands.
“Did I tell you to come in?”
“No.”, she shrugged. “But you definitely want to see this.”
She handed him the letter and for its avid use of paper it was a rather short and impersonal message from one Asha Greyjoy, congratulating the Princess to her wedding in her father’s stead. Jon furrowed his brows confused.
“One might think she just wanted to brag with the expensive paper she uses, as heavy as it is, but if you look carefully you can see slight separation on the bottom corner. The kind of thing the Maester wouldn’t pay too much attention to with the sheer volume of letters we’ve got lately.”
She pointed at the corner and pulled it apart in front of him. Underneath the official letter was another hidden.
She smirked.
“It’s for you.”
Jon jumped up and yanked it out of her hand, fast enough that she hopefully didn’t read too much.
Dear Jon,
I hope my sister get’s away with this well, stupid plan, and that your sister is smart enough to notice. But in case you do read this.
I did get your letters and I wanted to answer you. I did answer you, but my father didn’t think it appropriate, I do not think he is over the idea if gaining independence. (Not that he has any resources to do anything in that direction). I guess me not sharing his contempt for mainlanders was something he wants to train out of me.
I miss you too!
And I do wish to write you more often! Asha has volunteered to help some more as in that you can write to some of her other properties, of course without any official sigils.
Hopefully I can see you again soon.
Yours,
Theon.
On the bottom there was an address scribbled to one of the densely populated parts of Harlaw.
Jon couldn’t help the bright smile that spread on his face when he cradled the letter close to his chest. Theon wanted to see him again.
Rhae watched him with annoying amusement, but he didn’t care that much.
Theon wanted to see him!