Work Text:
Theon Greyjoy was in a tent full of Lords who were meant to be discussing backup plans and strategies. Instead, said Lords were all arguing with each other. Theon was sure their shouting could be heard all across the camp.
It was the wait for Lady Stark’s return that had gotten them all so riled up. No one knew for sure if she would return unharmed, and with everyone on edge it was just a matter of time before the arguing started. Discussions of what to do if Lady Stark didn’t return, or if they were denied passage over the Trident, had quickly turned into heated arguments over whose plan was the better one.
Theon stood silently at Robb’s side, keeping his mouth shut. It was hard enough to get anyone to listen when they were all talking over each other, and no one really cared for what the Greyjoy had to say anyway.
Robb had been oddly quiet during the whole thing. Normally he was quite the diplomat, but under these circumstances he was mostly silent and only made occasional comments here and there. Theon had tried to get Robb’s attention several times but Robb seemed too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice Theon’s gaze on him or feel Theon’s foot poking at the heel of his boot.
Finally Lady Stark arrived. Everyone went quiet as she entered the tent, relieved she had returned unscathed and eager to hear the result of her bargaining. Theon thought she looked a bit… tense.
“Well? What did he say?” Robb asked as Lady Stark approached them.
It was silent as the grave. No one dared make any noise, let alone speak.
“Lord Walder has granted your crossing,” Lady Stark declared.
The tension in the room dropped significantly. Theon grinned and looked over at Robb, trying to catch his eye. When his attempt once again failed Theon turned his attention back to Lady Stark.
“His men are yours as well,” she continued. “Less the four hundred he will keep here to hold the crossing against any who would pursue you.”
A fair deal. A Lord must be able to protect himself.
“And what does he want in return?” Robb asked.
“You will be taking on his son, Olyvar, as your personal squire,” Lady Stark answered. “He expects a knighthood in good time.”
“Fine, fine,” Robb agreed, a squire would be no trouble for him. But gaining passage over the Trident wouldn’t be as simple as taking on a squire. Surely there was something else to this deal that made Lady Stark so hesitant to speak.
It was silent for a moment as they all waited for Lady Stark to continue. When she didn’t, Robb spoke up.
“And?” he asked, getting restless beside Theon. Lady Stark paused before she spoke.
“And Arya will marry his son, Waldron, when they both come of age.”
“She won’t be happy about that,” Robb said. And it was true. Arya was as fierce as they came and she would certainly not be pleased to hear about her betrothal. She’d likely be kicking and screaming in protest all the way up to the altar.
But this was not all. Theon could tell Robb also felt it. There was something else Lady Stark dreaded to say.
“And?” Robb asked again, this time his voice was laced with worry.
“And…” Lady Stark hesitated. What could be such a big deal it even made Lady Stark nervous? “When the fighting is done… you will marry one of his daughters.”
What?
Marry one of Lord Frey’s daughters?
Marry?
“Whichever you prefer,” Lady Stark quickly added. “He has a number he thinks will be… suitable.”
Theon glanced over at Robb. He had gotten tense, his brows furrowed and eyes firmly fixed in front of him. He did not meet Theon’s gaze.
Theon was sure Robb would say no. There was simply no way he’d agree to this marriage, especially not without having time to think about it. And when Robb refused they would march their army on the towers and fight until they were allowed passage. It would be an easy win, they had the numbers after all.
“I see.” Robb stared blankly in front of him, his eyes clouded. “Did you get a look at his daughters?”
Theon couldn’t help the snicker that escaped him. Robb asking about girls’ appearances as if that would concern him might be the funniest thing Theon has heard all day. Although the bar wasn’t very high.
Robb shot him a glance but quickly turned his attention back to Lady Stark.
“I did,” she said.
“And?”
“One was…” She trailed off and Robb sighed.
Although Theon was still amused by the situation, he was eager for this whole thing to be over with. He couldn’t wait to joke around with Robb afterwards in his tent, maybe share some wine and other comforts.
“Do you consent?” Lady Stark asked finally.
Just say no and get it over with already, Theon thought. His feet were getting sore from standing for so long.
“Can I refuse?” Robb questioned, his voice strained. Of course he could, he had an army at their doorstep!
“Not if you want to cross,” came Lady Stark’s reply.
Theon waited for Robb to lock eyes with him and confirm he wouldn’t agree. A simple look of acknowledgement would be enough to get the point across. Then Theon would crack a joke about not being afraid of a little blood or something else equally stupid and Robb would laugh and they’d move on to make plans for battle.
But Robb just kept staring firmly ahead, opening his mouth to speak.
“Then I consent.”
He said it with such determination it took a moment for it to register in Theon’s mind.
Had Theon heard that correctly? Robb… consented? No, that… that couldn’t be right.
Robb pushed his way past a stunned Theon and moved out of the tent so quickly Theon didn’t even have time to react. By the time his reeling mind had caught up to the present Robb was already gone.
Theon’s head felt light. Robb agreed to the marriage. He was going to get married to some Frey girl that he’d never met, and he didn’t even talk to Theon about it.
The world was spinning. Lady Stark was moving out the tent, so was everyone once Robb left. Theon braced himself against the wooden table and tried to regain his composure.
Robb was getting married. And it was fine, really, it was no big deal, at least not to Robb it seemed. Who cares what Theon Greyjoy thought about the situation, right? Let’s just agree to the marriage and throw everything else out the window! It’s not like what they had mattered to anyone anyway, least of all to Robb, since he seemed so eager to join with someone in marriage without even sparing Theon a second thought.
Stop complaining, you’re acting like a girl, Theon thought to himself, gripping the edge of the table harder.
Whatever. It’s not like Robb was his beloved anyway. Sure, they’d kissed on several occasions – sometimes doing even more than that – but that was all it was. The physical stuff. They didn’t whisper sweet words to each other, or make promises, or say I love you. They weren’t like that.
Still, Theon thought it had at least meant something to Robb. That he meant something to Robb.
But sure, throw Theon to the dogs when better things were promised! Forget everything they’d shared, it was no big deal! Who cares if Theon Greyjoy gets his heart broken, no one loves that boy anyway. Crush him, destroy him, and leave his body for the crows to feast on.
Theon would’ve gone to a brothel had there only been one nearby. He would’ve paid the prettiest girl in gold to make him forget all about his seething anger for one night. And then he would’ve done it again and again and again, until all thoughts of Robb’s marriage were gone from his mind.
Of course, there was no brothel out here and the only girl in the camp was Lady Stark, whom Theon absolutely did not want to bed.
So instead he ended up in Robb Stark’s tent.
Theon practically ripped the tent flap open and barged in like he had all the right to be furious with Robb. In a way he liked to believe he did.
Theon liked to believe a lot of things. That he was not a disappointment to his family, that he was welcome with the Starks, and that he meant something to Robb, just to name a few. It seemed not even one of those things were true.
“Theon?” Robb questioned, a puzzled look on his face when he saw the Greyjoy stomp into his tent. “What are you doing?”
“Why did you do it?” Theon shot back through clenched teeth. His hurt was turning into rage as usual.
“Do what?” Robb asked. It should be a crime his eyes held no malice when Theon was so furious with him.
“Oh come on Stark, you know very well what I mean,” Theon said, clenching his fists so hard they shook with the sheer force of his anger. “‘Then I consent’? What the hell was that?”
A look of realization washed over Robb’s face, replacing his confusion with something new, something Theon couldn’t quite place. Robb was silent for several moments, his mouth opening and closing before letting out a heavy sigh.
“I had no choice,” he said at last. “It was the only way for us to get passage across the Trident.”
“Bullshit!” Theon spat out. “You could’ve refused! Told them no! We have eighteen thousand men, they wouldn’t have stood a chance against us and you know it!”
“There was a way to avoid spilling needless blood and I took it,” Robb protested. “The war will bring enough death as it is! I don’t want anyone to die if it could’ve been avoided.”
Theon just glared at him. The Starks and their stupid selflessness. Ned Stark had given up his freedom to help a friend when he accepted the role as Hand of the King, and now his eldest son had done the same in order to prolong the lives of men destined to die.
“Look,” Robb began. He moved forward and placed a hand on Theon’s shoulder, probably as a gesture of comfort. Theon flinched at the touch. “I’m just as unhappy about this situation as you are, but there’s nothing we can do about it.”
Theon scoffed and stepped back, breaking the touch.
‘Unhappy’, he thought. Someone was unhappy if they missed breakfast or lost a bet. Being robbed of your freedom didn’t make you unhappy, it was too weak of a word. It would rather be misery or agony you felt. At least that was Theon’s experience with it.
Robb gave him a look, one that was filled with sadness and hurt and longing. It was strange to admit it mirrored Theon’s own feelings. Was there a possibility he did mean something to Robb after all?
But then Robb looked away and the moment was gone.
Theon hated Robb for making him feel like this, like he was nothing and everything all at once. Robb wanted this, then he didn’t want it. He says he’s unhappy but acts like he doesn’t care for Theon at all. And Theon hated it. In the deepest corners of his heart he despised feeling like this. He wished he could just hate Robb and be done with it all.
But of course Theon couldn’t. Because how could he truly hate the one person who was kind to him, who showed him respect and treated him like a person worth trusting, a person worth knowing? It was humiliating.
Theon wanted to punch Robb, hurt him, shatter his pretty face with his fist and watch him bleed. He wanted to grab Robb by the collar, shove him against a wall and kiss him until Theon could taste the iron on his tongue.
Maybe hatred and love was all the same, Theon couldn’t tell the difference anymore.
Robb sighed.
“I’m sorry,” he said, looking back at Theon again. “But this was bound to happen sooner or later.”
Of course it was. Robb was the eldest of the Stark sons, it was expected of him to marry at some point. And Theon had known this before going deeper into their tangled mess of a relationship, of course he had known. But knowing didn’t mean acknowledging.
“Won’t you say something Theon?” Robb’s hand gripped his upper arm.
“It should’ve happened later!” Theon shouted. “Or better yet, never at all!”
“Keep your voice down!” Robb scolded him. “Do you want us to get caught?!”
Theon freed himself from Robb’s grip and took a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm himself.
“Well forgive me if I was being too loud, my lord,” Theon said and rolled his eyes. That last bit he added on just to see the hurt look on Robb’s face. “I just don’t understand how you could agree to marry some girl you’ve never even seen without so much as talking to me about it! I thought-”
Theon cut himself off and shut his mouth quickly. What did he think? That they had something special? That he mattered at all to Robb? That Robb loved him? Pathetic.
“Are you jealous?” Robb asked, his eyes shimmering with frustration. “Is that it? Would you rather have me all to yourself?!”
Theon trembled at the question. The thought of Robb being his, and no one else's, was thrilling beyond comparison.
Theon’s eyes snapped up to meet Robb’s gaze. It was steady and unmoving, his eyes burning into Theon’s own until he felt as though Robb could see even the darkest corners of his mind. Theon was ashamed to admit that yes, he did want Robb all to himself, more than he’d ever thought he did.
But what Theon Greyjoy wanted was not his to take. He could grasp at Robb with all he’s got and yet he could never truly hold him.
Theon wished he was a direwolf so he could claw and bite and scratch. Leave his mark, any mark. Maybe if he had claws that could leave marks, Robb wouldn't have agreed to the marriage. Maybe if Theon had teeth that could bite down on something and never let it go, Robb wouldn’t be so quick to leave him behind.
But Theon was no direwolf, he was a Greyjoy. And Greyjoys didn’t have claws or teeth to leave any marks with.
“Do you really think I would rather be with some girl than you?” Robb’s voice cut through Theon’s racing thoughts.
It didn’t feel like Robb meant what he was implying.
“Yes,” Theon said. “You would.”
Robb stared at him in stunned silence.
“I don’t want to marry her,” Robb said. “I want to be with you.”
“And what will become of me when you do marry her?” Theon asked. He knew when men married girls they didn’t want there were always mistresses hidden in the dark.
I will not be your mistress, he thought, feeling the anger bubbling back to the surface again. I will not be your whore. When you marry I will not be the dark secret you keep hidden from the world.
“I will not be your servant,” is what he settled for.
Robb’s gaze softened.
“Of course not,” he said. “You know you’re more than that to me. You’re my companion, Theon.”
Companion.
Theon almost wanted to laugh. It was too sweet of a word for such an ugly feeling.
Robb reached for Theon’s hand. Held it gently, stroked his thumb over Theon’s knuckles.
“I don’t know what will happen to us after this,” Robb admitted. Theon tensed. “But I do know that I don’t want to lose you. Not to this war, and certainly not because of a marriage that doesn’t mean anything to me.”
Theon felt a pang of guilt bury itself in his chest. Robb was being so kind to him when just moments ago Theon had been thinking about how much he hated Robb.
Theon never thought of himself as a particularly good companion for Robb Stark, he was a Greyjoy after all. And yet, Robb didn’t seem to care much about any of that.
Robb brought Theon’s hand up to his mouth and pressed a tender kiss against his knuckles. Robb’s lips were rough on Theon’s skin and yet there was a softness to it that he didn’t know he had been craving.
“The wedding won’t take place until after the fighting is done,” Robb mumbled, eyes closed and lips moving against Theon’s knuckles. “Let’s savour what we have right now and worry about the rest later.”
Robb opened his eyes and their gazes met. Theon realized Robb was pleading before he’d even said it.
“Please. I don’t want to fight with you.”
Theon was breathless for a moment.
“Okay,” he said at last, letting Robb dissolve his anger completely. It was unfair that Robb could weaken him like this.
Robb smiled, a small and warm one meant just for Theon. He briefly wondered if Robb’s future wife would ever see that smile. Something made Theon believe she wouldn’t.
The thought was exhilarating.
Robb kissed Theon’s hand again, this time without breaking eye contact. His lips lingered for what felt like an eternity and Theon felt his entire arm tingle at the touch.
They were moving far too slow for Theon’s liking.
“Come on,” Theon said, grabbing Robb by the waist and pulling him closer. “Kiss me properly, you coward.”
Robb was eager to oblige. Their lips pressed together messily and Theon couldn’t help but smile when Robb’s hand tangled in his hair. Maybe Robb did want this after all.
“I love you,” Robb suddenly whispered between Theon’s lips.
Everything ground to a halt.
Theon stopped moving. He almost forgot to breathe.
One of Robb’s hands came up to cradle the side of Theon’s face. He kept his eyes shut.
“Theon?” Robb asked gently, stroking his thumb over Theon’s cheek.
He cautiously opened his eyes to find Robb looking at him with the most worried expression Theon had ever seen.
No one had ever looked at him like that before.
Something fluttered in Theon’s stomach and he surged forward to kiss Robb hard. His hands grasped at Robb’s face, pulling him as close as he could. Theon would make sure to leave his mark. If not with claws or teeth then with this moment.
Theon would mean something to Robb, maybe not forever but at least right now.