With all my Life
You know, I am ashamed in the lack of Robb/Theon slash, and so here some is.
But full of angst and unrequited crushes, of course.
(Also, just a thought, Theon Greyjoy is a badass name.)
This is probably my longest fic, but I can tell it's going to be the least read. Where are my GoT fangirls?
And I suck at titles, so whatever. This one doesn't even make sense.
Everything Theon did was for Robb. Every joke, every sly comment. He found himself wondering how Robb would react before every action, hoping, praying, that it would be favorably.
Theon lived for the laughs he coaxed out of Robb, every smile, inappropriate snort, elbow-jostle. Robb was too serious for his own good.
But just as often as he received those, just as likely as a heart-stopping smile, was a blank stare. A look of reproach, a small sigh of impatience. Just as Theon lived for Robb's smiles, his moments of indifference killed him.
Sometimes, Theon liked to close his eyes and dream: Eddard Stark had never kidnapped him, Theon had grown up as a proper lord, a confident, assured young man. And then, by chance, he would visit Winterfell, and just happen to meet Robb (or Robb would visit the Isles and see Theon, he couldn't decide which was better). They hit it off, and...
Theon never let himself get further than that. It hurt too much.
He didn't know where it had gone wrong. He and Robb had grown up as brothers, close but not too close. Theon had been certain it would stay that way.
And then Ned Stark had brought home his bastard, and maybe that was where it went downhill.
Because Robb and Jon had gotten along splendidly, and Theon didn't exist anymore. Or so it seemed. Jon Snow had taken his place.
It hurt, for the longest time. How could Robb prefer Snow, a lowly bastard, over Theon Greyjoy, a proper lord? It was laughable!
But, after some thought and time, Theon calmed down. Robb was a good man, a great man, as honorable as his father. It was his duty as a Stark to make Snow feel welcome, and he did it well. And maybe it was better that they were less close, less like brothers.
Because Theon didn't want to be Robb's brother.
He still, even now, when he was no longer a child, had those dreams. Those wild, half-remembered dreams (a flash of skin, a tug on his hair, the feel of curls in his hand) that pushed him awake, gasping and vaguely ashamed.
He tried to channel it away, now was not the proper time to act on his feeling. (But then, it never was, was it?) After each dream, Theon found himself at the whorehouse, trying to fill that aching hole, hoping to stop the pit of yearning that the dreams left.
It never worked, of course.
Not when each smile and laugh and approving nod increased the depth of the pit, the intensity of the ache.
Theon would do anything to fill that hole that Robb left. He dreamed of grabbing the other man, pushing him against a wall, over a table, and showing him what Robb did to Theon. He would convince him, right then, that Theon had been kidnapped for a reason. That they grew up together and that meant they had to spend their lives together, they weren't supposed to be drifting apart.
But he would never do it. He had only said the truth to himself once (on a painfully cold night, after a particularly vivid dream, his chest physically aching), in the loneliness of his room with no one else to hear, but Theon Greyjoy was a coward.
And then! Then! Jon went away to take the Black, and Ned Stark left, and Lady Stark went off on a mission, and it was just Robb and Theon. Or so it seemed, for a few, glorious days.
And then Bran was almost killed, and the half-man got himself kidnapped, and Ned was killed, and it was off to war.
But even that was OK, really. Because Theon was Robb's sort-of squire, and slept in the same tent as him, and spent every day with him, and he could feel themselves getting closer. With Jon so far away (not to mention forever unavailable), Robb began to lean on Theon more and more.
And, though he hated wars and fighting and hostage-taking, Theon began to think that, maybe, possibly, this war wasn't so bad.
But Lady Stark came back. She came back, and with her fell all of Theon's hopes. Robb got a squire and and bride, and where did that leave Theon?
Theon Greyjoy may be a coward, but he was a stubborn coward. It didn't matter if Robb was betrothed or even married, what mattered was love. You could have all the affairs you wanted, with whomever you wanted, if you were a lord. No one would say anything.
And so Theon would be there. Robb would realize his wife was not suitable, and he would do what he always did, turn to Theon.
That glorious day would come. He knew it.
Theon just had to wait and ensure that he was properly positioned, firmly in Robb's mind. Just as Robb was in his.
Theon Greyjoy may be a coward, but even cowards get their due, he knew.
Everything he did was for Robb, and eventually, soon, (hopefully,) Robb would see that.
And then everything Robb did would be for Theon.