driftfleet | Chocolate-flavored Dessert Cream on the House

Chocolate-flavored Dessert Cream on the House

[The bunks are filling up, but the new faces just keep appearing!

Are you a travel-weary passenger having trouble keeping your crew roster straight? Perhaps you are a fresh new recruit, finding themselves dumped into a new (and much less shiny) home. Or, maybe you've been around for a little bit and just haven't bothered meeting the other weirdos on this ship yet--what is their problem, anyway?

Well, this is the place for you!

All new passengers from the last few Shuffles, especially those who haven't met their crews yet, are welcome to post starter-comments here to invite those living on and visiting your ship to come and interact. Newbies could be just arriving on the ship, busying around where others can find them, or you can offering multiple options for interaction--however you'd like to set up your thread is fine. Just make sure to include the name of your ship in the header, so your crewmates can easily find you!

Everyone else-- go meet those newbies! Whether they are new to your own crew, or on ships you frequently visit, now is a great time to bump into them.]

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[ For days, Theon has anguished over the possibility of running into Robb. He would rather face anyone or anything but Robb, and he gnashes his teeth together tightly when he hears his old friend's voice.

Of course.

He turns to greet him with a smile, but that smile doesn't reach his eyes. He can't even make himself force a laugh. There are no apologies he can possibly muster up and no excuses he can make for himself. Not now when Winterfell has likely been taken by the Boltons; not now when he knows he could have and would have killed Bran and Rickon. But he did what he did for a reason, and if he can just make Robb understand...The laugh finally comes, soft and bitter.

Robb will never understand. ]

Have you rehearsed this? You sound like an ass.

[ Another laugh, but the corners of his mouth threaten to turn downward. This isn't the conversation he wanted to be having the next time he met Robb. ]

No trouble, then. Understood. Bran and Sansa never wanted me near them to begin with.

[ His words come out stilted and forced. Theon had been there for the births of three of the Stark siblings, yet Robb was the only one who ever truly treated him as family. Somewhere along the line, all the children were taught who and what Theon really was, and that thought has always hurt. ]

And what of you? Shall I throw myself through this window so not to offend your Stark eyes?

[Robb finds it hard to think about what Theon must feel. Would there be remorse? Would he kneel and beg for forgiveness? Apologies? A fist to the face? Would he pull a knife and press it against his throat to strengthen his claim on Winterfell? He does not know the answer. All he knows is that sending his friend back to Pyke hasn't been a good idea at all.

Maybe it is all his fault. Just another mistake he could add to his growing pile of mistakes. And, well, he did rehearsed a little. It was either that or pulling his gun and shoot him.]

That would be the last of your worries, turncloak.

[When Theon laughs the look on Robb's face just turns more angry, yet he is unsure if he should be angry at himself or the man in front of him. I have been a fool to send you to Pyke.]

I care not. [He cares a lot but that is not something Theon has to know.] But if you insist, please do. [Robb wonders if his voice sounds steady enough when he addresses the man who used to be his friend. His best friend. As close as a brother.]

[ Remorse does weigh heavily upon Theon's shoulders. He's tried shrugging it off, but it seems like it's there to stay. What's done is done, after all. Apologies and explanations can be made for days, but Theon does not intend to beg for forgiveness that he know he'll never recieve.

You don't deserve his forgiveness. The blame is on you. It's only on you. Robb thought he was doing good by sending you home. By freeing you. ]

You care not? You wouldn't be here if that were the truth of it.

[ Again, he laughs. Laughter is the only thing that's keeping him going completely mad with guilt. ]

What should I be worried about, then? You're just as much to blame. You were the one who sent me back to Pyke. You should have known--

[ This is not his fault. ]

Did no one try to stop you? Did your lady mother not tell you to send someone else?

Do not flatter yourself, Greyjoy. [Robb's eyes narrow even more as he looks at the other. Suddenly he realizes how difficult it is to be truly angry instead of just sad and disappointed. When did you start hating us so? ] I came to tell you to stay away from Bran and Sansa.

[Gods, stop laughing! It sounds as if he is mocking him, laughing at him for being such a fool. Robb stays quiet for an awful long time, lips pressed together.]

I thought it would do you well. To return to your family, and I trusted you to... [A bitter snort escapes his mouth.] I have been in the wrong about that! About everything! [He notices he has raised his voice and that it echoes through the small hall of the ship.] I wish I could take your head right here!

[But he has no sword. And this is not Westeros.]

You've told me. I've agreed. And yet you're still here.

[ Another chuckle, because what else can he do? He could bare his soul to Robb and explain that home wasn't as he expected. He could describe how unhappy his homecoming had been; how completely alien he felt among those who were meant to be his own people. He could explain why he did what he did, how he never intended to harm Winterfell in any manner, how mistakes were made.

He could--but, no, he can't. He won't. Not only is he too proud, but none of that will excuse his actions in anyone's eyes, least of all Robb's. ]

You were wrong about a great many things. Perhaps you should have listened to your advisers. [ Do you think I never heard? Do you think I never saw how they looked at me? Like I was lower than the dirt beneath their feet? ]

What's stopping you, then? Who better to do the job? You would make your father proud. My life is no longer incentive for anyone's good behavior.

[Yes, Robb is still standing there and to be honest, he is not sure what it is that he wants to hear from Theon's mouth. He should just go back.

For a moment he stands there, speechless, unable to say a single thing. He lets Theon do the talking instead. Once again he hears of his many mistakes and once again the other laughs. As if everything is one big bloody jape. And maybe he has been wrong about it all, not wanting to hear of how they looked upon his lord father's ward. Just like he turned away from how his lady mother used to treat Jon.

And his muscles move faster than his brain does. Before he realizes it the fingers of both of his hands are curled into the collar of Theon's jerkin and he pushes him backwards.]

Tell me this. [He is hissing softly as he speaks.] Do you hate us? Have you done so all that time? [He sounds like a disappointed boy of barely ten who cannot practice with real swords and has to settle for a wooden one.]

[ Theon grits his teeth, immediately pushing back againt Robb's grip on him. They're nearly matched in height and strength now--not as easy of a fight as it might have been a year ago, but Theon won't let himself be the one trapped against a wall.

There's anger in his eyes, but something different there as well. He's hurt, genuinely upset by Robb's cruel assumption. Oh, how he had so badly wanted to hate them. He had promised himself he would hate all of them, the very moment he set foot in Winterfell. In the end, it had taken him less than a year to break that promise. ]

It was never you that I hated.

[ His voice is a strangely quiet hiss, for all his anger. ]

It was never your lord father, nor your lady mother, nor even your bastard brother.

[ It was me. It was myself that I hated. ]

You called me brother for ten years. You are not dense. You know it wasn't your family that I hated.

[Theon is still strong and it takes a lot to keep him close to that wall. He grits his teeth when he pushes back. At least he is able to win a fight from Theon now. Or well, a draw, at the least.
And he still does not know what to do. He wants to hate his so much but all he feels is some sort of melancholic sadness, mixed with frustration and guilt.

They weren’t going to be friends again. The North remembers and taking a castle and putting it to the torch is definitely something that won’t be forgotten.]

I wish that were the answer. [Robb’s voice is low when he responses, fingers tightening into the fabric of Theon’s collar.] That you hated us all. That this is some sort of revenge you have cherished for many years. That my foolish decision finally gave you the opportunity to turn your cloak.

[Robb looks hurt as well.]

I wish I could hate you... But all the memories I have tell me different. [And finally he lashes out and a fist lands right against Theon’s nose.] You should have stabbed me in the chest when you had your bloody chance. [Robb figures that would be better. Better than losing Winterfell. At least there would be a Stark there, as his lord father always said.]

I wish the same.

[ Everything would be made instantly easier if he had only been able to hate the Starks. He could have approached his father different, saving himself embarrassment and mocking. He could have approached the siege of Winterfell differently and been relieved of the knots his stomach is still twisting itself into. None of this would hurt so badly. He would have no friendships to lose. He wouldn't feel so guilty.

Robb snaps him out of his thoughts when his fist connects with Theon's nose in an explosion of blinding pain. Theon stumbles backwards in a daze, but recovers by shrugging it off with a laugh. He smiles horribly, gingerly wiping blood from his nose with the back of one hand while the other twists tightly into Robb's collar. ]

When would I have found that chance? When your lady mother's back was turned?

[ Gods, it hurts, but he only forces himself to grin wider as he aims a fist for Robb's face. An eye for an eye and all that--rather, a nose for a nose in this case. ]

What a bloody mess.

[Robb hisses the words and rolls his eyes while doing so. And he wants to know of the why’s and how’s of it. Maybe he could understand, maybe there could be some context he could relate to. But he ends up with nothing instead. There is this odd sort of angry guilt that consumes him.

His gaze drops to Theon’s bloody nose and the ridiculous sort of grin underneath said nose. He is laughing again. Gods, what is so funny about this? There is no reason to laugh, definitely not for him.]

You would have found that chance. [He spits the words out, laced with anger and frustration.] Like you have found your chance to take Winterfell and put it to the torch. [Robb realizes he needs to find a reason for Theon to hate him then. Apparently taking a castle is not enough. When the older man aims a fist at his face Robb manages to duck away. Not enough because that fist lands right into his left eye, leaving him nothing but stars to see.

Groaning he stumbles backwards and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment.]

That is all? [Robb snorts a little.] Gods be good...

[ That accusation will always sting, but coming from Robb, it's like a knife to the chest. No one has ever been allowed anyone to truly know the real Theon Greyjoy. He's built up too many walls around himself over the years, hiding behind smiles and laughter and reckless behavior, but Robb was still the person who knew Theon the best.

He should know you well enough by now to realize--

His next bark of laughter is rough and too loud, and that horrible grimace of a smile is still there as he pulls his fist back to take aim at Robb again, weakly and halfheartedly. He can't turn his hurt and anger into hated, no matter how much he wishes he could. ]

I took Winterfell. That, I will never deny. [ His voice is hoarse, like he's trying to stop himself from screaming to be heard. ] But it wasn't I who put it to the torch.

[ "Burn it, burn it all." Ramsay's words are still loud in his head. Too loud, always ringing in his ears. I was a fool to trust him. ]

You can think my words lies if you like, but I will not take credit for another man's achievement. Roose Bolton's bastard gave the orders. I had nothing to do with it.

[ He pushes Robb back once more, then drops his arms to his sides and looks away, suddenly exhausted by this fight. ]

I was ready to take the black.

[Robb notices how his eye is swelling and tearing up. Gods, as if he could forget that Theon has really mean punches sometimes. Finally he looks around him. I should leave before my anger takes the best of me. Before guilt would knock on his door again and before he would start to think about how everything could have been.]

Father should have never gone to King’s Landing. [He mutters the words to himself more than to Theon and sadness darkens his face for just a moment. Yet, he snaps out of it when Theon mentions Roose’s bastard son, his good eye widening a little.] Bolton? Why would he...? [Robb has to be honest, Roose is not a man he trusts but so far he has never done anything to prove that. At the least... For a long while Robb just stands there and he realizes that it is difficult to frown with a swollen eye. Did those orders came from Roose himself? Is he an even bigger turncloak? It is not that the Starks and the Boltons have had a good understanding through times...]

I have received word that Bolton's bastard captured you. That the fire has been your doing and that you would receive proper punishment. My brothers... [Was this a trick? Why didn't he know. Why did no one sent anything to him? Why didn't he know Joffrey died? Why didn't he know about Sansa being at the Vale?

Robb can feel how his heart hammers in his chest. It is as he once said to his mother. Winning every battle but losing the war. He has been cut off any vital information, everyone he cares for has become a pawn in a game he started and the Dreadfort has turned against him?]

I do not know of anything. [His voice trembles a bit.] I need to return home.

[ There was a time when he and Robb loved nothing more than to exchange japes about Roose Bolton and his leeches and soft voice. To think that those days are gone hurts more than any punch Robb can throw at him.

If he could have stayed, if Robb had only never sent him home, none of this would have happened. Perhaps he could have helped to foresee the Boltons' true intentions, and Winterfell would have been saved. ]

Ramsay Bolton has no reason to capture me.

[ For such strong words, he sounds incredibly uncertain and worried. Even under the guise of Reek, Ramsay had been bother clever and sadistic. If he managed to infiltrate Winterfell so easily, he would find a reason to hold Theon hostage. Ironic, isn't it? He almost has to laugh again. A prisoner half your life and likely a prisoner once more. ]

You know they'll never let you return home. All you have is my word, however much faith you put in it. I've been truthful about taking Winterfell. Why would I lie about everything else? Those boys-- [ He hates thinking about them. He was desperate and made an awful decision. ] They weren't your brothers. I couldn't find Bran and Rickon. I wouldn't have... [ But I could have. I might have. ]

You are the heir to the Iron Islands who has seized Winterfell. [Really, Theon, really?] You are important to many lords. Northern or other. [A pause.] And their bastards.

[Robb realizes once again that it is urgent that he returns. Lord Bolton is present at the wedding and he should speak to him after all the apologies towards lord Frey are over and done. Speak to him and put him in chains until he speaks the truth.

The look in the eye that is not swollen sharpens a little when Theon says that. He wishes that this were all truths and somewhere deep inside he wishes that he could just call the other his friend again. He hates losing all those he loved and he hates the fact that he feels as if he is responsible for that.]

You would have. If you’d find them you would have... [A sound between a chuckle and a sob escapes his mouth.] ...I should not have... [Robb cannot even finish that sentence anymore and all he does is shake his head.]

Just leave my family be.

[ That first statement earns another bark of laughter, seeping with bitterness. His teeth clench into a pained, twisted smile as he fights his own emotions, but there's a slight quiver in his voice that betrays him. ]

Am I? My father named Asha as his heir. My sister.

[ Or at least raised her to be his heir. It still feels like a slap in the face. Did he ever even once think about the son he allowed to be taken from him? ]

The Ironborn do not abide by the laws of the green lands. I have no birthright. [ Again, he laughs. ] I have nothing at all.

[ He's been a fool. He can't possibly recover from the awful decisions he's made. He's made an enemy out of his only friend and lost the one place he truly could call a home. Worst of all, Robb is right. If Theon had found Bran and Rickon, who knows what he might have done? Perhaps Luwin would have been able to talk him down, or perhaps his anger and frustration would have gotten the better of him. If the bastard of Bolton has truly taken him prisoner, it's a better fate than he deserves. ~~Oh, how little he knows about what's to come for him.~~ ]

After all this time, you're finally correct about one thing. You should not have. You should not have sent me home to Pyke.

[ Again, a laugh, this time somewhere between a sob and a chuckle. ]

Will you ever stop being so dense? It's done. I mean your family no harm.

[If Robb were truly cruel he would’ve laughed and called it Theon’s problem and his alone. And if he were truly angry he’d tell the other that it is nothing but fitting. But all he feels is a heavy sort of sadness lined with guilt. Always guilt. Of course lord Balon would do such a thing. Why wouldn’t he? It wasn’t planned that Theon would return to him, now was it?

Would that mean he took it all by sending him back? He knew some things about Ironborn but nowhere enough to anticipate this.]

I hope it is not pity you want from me. [Robb hopes his voice sounds stern enough. Because he definitely heard that soft waver in the older man’s voice just yet.] You have never been a craven. I... [Once again words fail him and he coughs briefly.] So you had to take Winterfell instead, is it not?

[Theon is right about that. He should have never let him return. Then Winterfell would be safe and all the people living inside of it. His fault.]

I wish I could believe you, Greyjoy.

[Robb realizes he should go and wallow in his guilt alone.]

[ It isn't pity he wants. It's understanding. He wants Robb to understand that none of this was done out of spite or hatred. He want Robb to understand that he never intended to harm Winterfell in any way, that Balon had forced his hand, that Theon had tried to make reason with him and failed.

It's better to be feared and hated than to be humiliated and made a fool of. ]

What does it matter? You'll only be pleased if you hear that I took Winterfell out of hatred for your House. I can tell you differently one hundred times, but you will never take it as the truth.

[ Again, he bares his teeth in an awful grimace of a smile. ]

I was treated as a stranger when I returned to Pyke. My own father--he thought I'd become too much like you. That I'd grown too close to your family. [ His smile becomes tighter, teeth clenched to prevent himself from screaming. He was right, but was I meant to nod my head and agree with him? ] He would not even contemplate the words in your letter. How was I to defy him?

[In return, Robb wishes he could understand. That he could justify this to the feelings he had towards the other. But Robb has grown frustrated over all of it. How his house slowly perishes and he cannot do anything. He could not stop Wintefell’s siege, he could not come to his brother’s aid, he cannot come to his sister’s aid either.

All of these thoughts make Robb utter a frustrated sigh, moving a hand through his hair as he does.]

It is not that! You tell me you do not hate us...yet you act the opposite of that!

[Now Robb had expected that Balon Greyjoy would not listen at all. That he would not agree to any form of an alliance. And he had hoped Theon could convince him. But he had been underestimating this situation greatly.

Foolish hopes of a boy, probably. A king should know better.]

You should have turned to me. [Was he really asking a son to abandon his own father?] I could have helped. I could send a ship for you. [But it isn’t that easy. Or that simple.] If he thinks you a Stark... [This is foolish, I am behaving like a bloody boy. I cannot ask for such things.]

You did not want to turn your back on your lord father, is it not?

[ On his journey to Pyke, Theon had harbored a foolish hope that his father would listen, that he would consider Robb's attempts to form an alliance at least enough for Theon himself to persuade him to agree. Gods, he had tried, and what did he get for his efforts? Cruel words and assumptions and Balon questioning to whom his only living son was loyal.

That's something that even Theon himself doesn't know the answer to anymore. There are so many "if"s muddling his thoughts. If Robb had never sent him home, his loyalty to the Starks would have never wavered. If his father had never given him up, the Starks would have always been his enemies. If he had acted more quickly, he could have gone to the wall where he could have dropped all ties to any house. If, if, if.

Loyalty is such a flimsy thing. ]

You think everything so simple. [ Teeth still clenched, his voice comes out in a hiss. ] But at least you have the right of one thing. You know how deeply blood runs. I could not turn my back on my own blood.

[ It's strange to think about. One way or another, he was destined to become a turncloak. Turn his back on the Starks, or turn his back on his own family? There was never any right decision. ]

The entirety of the Iron Islands would have branded me a traitor. And if I had returned to your family-- [ A soft, forced bark of laughter as he puts on a voice to mimic no Northman in particular: ] 'That Theon Greyjoy--who else would choose to return to the life of a prisoner? It's all he knows, ain't it? It's all he's ever had.'

[ It's better to be feared than to be made a fool of. ]

Imagine yourself in my place if you care to.

[It could very well be some sort of foolish dream. A hope Robb had while he should not have that in the first place. War twists everything and turns friends into enemies. He should have known. Things he thought that would be forever vanished as well. Of course, he knew of Theon’s position as his father’s ward, he knew where Theon came from but he never realized that there was more.

He was being a fool and a boy and he cannot stand it.

This is not something that could be mend and maybe it has been broken from the beginning. And he did not know. He never knew. A long sigh escapes his mouth and he crosses his arms.]

I have been a fool to think... [Or hope. Or anything, really. Even more than ever he feels as if he is on the losing side. Losing the war, losing all he thought he could trust. Robb finally clears his throat.] ...Aye.

[The last words Theon speaks make him feel more sad than angry. Something heavy settles in his heart. A prisoner. Has it been like that for him? All that time?]

Have you always felt a prisoner? [Robb can imagine it, though. Theon has never really been home. He has been used as a tool to keep Balon at bay. In a fact it was exactly what Theon was. The only difference is that the boy never wore any chains and that he had a soft bed with furs on top of them.]

Ah...never mind... I think I know the answer. [Robb has to force himself to look stern again while straightening his shoulders.] Mayhaps it is so...that we could never stay friends and I should... [He should stop hoping and wanting things he simply cannot have.]

We were meant to become enemies eventually.

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Chocolate-flavored Dessert Cream on the House

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sorry for the incoherence of this tag

shhh no it's perfect

thanks bro

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