text / action on the Blue Fish

[kingofbadlifechoices]

Who: Robb & you!
Broadcast: to all
Action: to all / people who are on the Blue Fish
When: 2nd of November

Network/text
My name is Robb Stark.

I wish to know if those who know me are still here.

You have my thanks.


On the Blue Fish
[After waking up Robb does not stay inside his bed for long. He can be seen walking towards the showers, followed by a trip towards the kitchen because he is hungry enough that he can eat an entire horse. He is also thirsty enough that he can drink an entire river.

After that he goes to visit his siblings to check up on them, knocking their doors to see if they are still on this ship.

He has a hammering headache and finds it difficult to determine how he feels. From the second he woke up until now it feels as if he has been slammed into a wall. He had not expected his lady wife to be here all of a sudden and he is somehow scared to hope for some sort of future together here.

After eating he can be found inside the weaponry, doing his duty as if nothing has really changed. As if he isn’t anything else but a corpse back home while lord Bolton’s bloody words keep echoing in the back of his mind.]

Comments

[reek]

A wise man. That's what they're calling you now?

[ Theon rolls his eyes as well, but he forces himself not to carry on with the japes and mockery. Not right now, at least. If he doesn't say what he has to say now, this might devolve into a punching match before he has an opportunity.

I'll be quick, then, so that you might actually live up to the wisdom people shockingly believe you have. The fall that crippled your brother wasn't an accident. He was pushed from that tower by Jaime Lannister. He told me as much himself.

[kingofbadlifechoices]

Better that than to be called a Turncloak. Or to be a Greyjoy in general. I understand that that must be a burden to you.

[Couldn’t Theon just stay away, really? Robb lacks the energy to deal with him and it shows on his face.

And when he hears that he utters a frustrated sort of sound.]

And what do you want me to do about that? Kill the Kingslayer?! [Finally he rises.] Or...mayhaps I can take King’s Landing and behead him!

My lady mother let him go and I am dead.

[Robb moves both hands through his hair.]

Gods be good why do you come here to tell me that, Theon?! [He starts to rub his face.] I think we have already established that we hate one another. Why would you want to push that any further?

[reek]

[ He would love to stay away, to put an end to this and be free of the frustration of trying to speak to Robb. He can't, though. If he'd never allowed himself to grow fond of the Starks, it would be easier, but it's too late for that now. ]

Seven hells, how can you still be this dense?

[ His eyes darken and his teeth clench, his voice rising as he bristles like a cat. He's trying his hardest not to physically lash out, but Robb's stubbornness is making it very difficult. ]

How many times do I have to knock you around before I finally get it through your head? I have never hated you. I never even claimed to dislike you, thick as you may be. Think me a viper, think me a turncloak, I don't care anymore.

[ Regardless, he steps forward and grabs Robb by the collar, teeth gritted. He really does care. He cares a lot, but his focus right now is to get Robb to listen to him. ]

But when I bring you this information, I expect you to heed it well. Everything about Arya, everything about Ramsay Snow and Winterfell, and now Bran. You would know none of it without my word. Does your death suddenly stop you from caring about your brothers and sisters?

[kingofbadlifechoices]

You call me dense?!

[Really now? Fucking really now, Theon? He clenches his hands to fists.]

You realized that before you took Winterfell or after?! [There is a lot of frustration in his voice and it grows with every word that makes it past his lips.] Or after your lord father gave you a spanking?! [Robb shakes his head.] Oh no, you do care! You do bloody care and as long as you care you will come to me to...

[Robb stops talking when Theon grabs his collar. And the more the other speaks, the angrier he becomes. At times Robb can be rather hotheaded and stubborn but apparently Greyjoy is keen on pushing his anger far beyond just that.

Finally he punches Theon in the face and manages to free himself out of the other’s grip. Anger has blurred his vision and finally he curls his fingers firmly into the collar of Theon’s shirt and slams him into a wall with every bit of strength he can muster.]

No! You don’t get to say that! [There are tears in his eyes now.] I know it is my fault! Everything is my doing and I regret every passing hour where I realize I am unable to undo it! You, Sansa, Arya...all my fault! And I cannot put any man to justice for what has happened.

I care more about my brothers and sisters than you can ever imagine.

[He hisses the last words in Theon’s face and finally lets go. After that he turns away from the other, doing his best to fight off the tears that keep on coming.]

[reek]

[ As Robb's fist collides with his face, a dry bark of laughter escapes from Theon's throat and his smirk begins to creep through. It's just an automatic response now. No matter how hard he may try to stop himself, laughter and smiles are the only way he knows how to handle pain and disappointment.

He doesn't retaliate, though. Not this time. Instead, he dips his head to hide the tears of pain welling in his eyes and to wipe away the blood that has begun to trickle from his nose. ]

After. Long after. When I arrived here. You've just confirmed it for me once more.

[ His head is spinning, but he laughs once more. Despite his insistence upon Robb's lack of intelligence, that isn't really what he means. He believed in Robb from the very start, and that never truly changed. Robb could have been a just and fair king, just as Theon once saw him, had he not been so young. He isn't actually dense; he's just foolish and naive. Theon's temper tends to do the talking for him, though, and his words come out far crueler. ]

If you care for your siblings, why don't you start showing it? Stop blaming yourself and teach them not to repeat your mistakes. [ Wiping the blood from his nose once more, he gives a lopsided grin. ] Teach them not to let the prisoners go free, no matter how fond they may have grown of them.

[kingofbadlifechoices]

I have tried many times, but all you do is give me more reasons to hate you!

[At this point Robb is livid, trembling slightly as he speaks. And he does not entirely care about the tears that are streaming down his cheeks. Kings do not cry. But he isn’t a king anymore. He is just Robb Stark without any lands, titles or heirs. And he has no purpose and no way to undo the big mess he left in his wake.

It is frustrating and here Theon Greyjoy comes to rub it in some more. It does not help he already feels as if he has failed everyone around him, that guilt cripples him and nightmares haunt him. And even though Robb wishes he could be a man or a king, all he can do is be an absolute boy over everything.]

I hate you. [It is all he can say to the other.] With all your false accusations and assumptions. I hate you. I hate you more than I hate Walder Frey and Roose Bolton together! At least they looked me in the face when they betrayed me!

[And after those words he lashes out for a second time, fist aimed at Theon’s face.]

[reek]

[ Even now, as the blood begins to gush from his his nose at an alarming rate, Theon's smirk widens, and he laughs. What more can he do? He was never equipped to handle these things properly. A laugh and a smile is the best weapon he's ever had. ]

And here I am still. You asked me to kill Roose Bolton, but you've yet to kill me. It may not take, but you'd get some sort of satisfaction out of it, wouldn't you? Killing the person you hate so.

[ Blood streaming down his face, he takes a step backward and spreads his arms in defeat. His smirk is still intact as if to ask, "you've always hated me, haven't you?" ]

Atroma will love it.

[kingofbadlifechoices]

[Robb could kill him. He has said so to his men, he has said so to his mother and he has said so to himself. And he is sitting here with weapons around him and he could just stand up and do it. What entertainment would that provide! King Robb would definitely take hold of his longsword and chop his head off, yet Robb Stark would not. He simply couldn’t.

He could not kill a friend who he cared for. He could yell at him and punch him and spew hateful words. But killing was no option... And the blood that is streaming over Theon’s face barely is a satisfying sight.]

It has never been about what I want, Theon.

[He hisses the words.]

In the grand scheme of things the will of a boy is nothing compared to the demands of the realm he rules over. [In a way it is a relief to say that. To admit to such things.] Now that realm is gone.

And I do not serve these Atroma. They can kiss my bloody arse. [He shakes his head and heads for the door.] Leave me be. [Still the story about the Kingslayer throwing Bran from the tower bothers him. Everything seems to get more worse the longer he stays here.]

[reek]

[ Theon doesn't want to die, but he would rather die by Robb's hand than suffer a fate worse than death by Ramsay's. At least it's something Robb has earned. After all, Theon took nothing from Ramsay, but he aided in taking a great deal from Robb.

More than anything, Theon wants to be finished. He's frightened, exhausted, and tired of fighting with himself and with others. Sleep would be nice. A long sleep, empty of nightmares. ]

I am offering you what you want, ten times over! Stop playing the hero. Stop playing the tortured boy.

[ His eyebrows knit together as he struggles to understand. If their places were switched, would he be able to kill Robb? The thought of Robb being a traitor is laughable at best, but Theon knows the answer. Perhaps, but the guilt would eat you alive, just as it's doing now. ]

I don't understand you. You were prepared to forgive me. Just because I can't kill the Boltons for you doesn't mean I can offer you nothing. I'm trying to help you.

[kingofbadlifechoices]

[Robb stops halfway, hand hovering just above the button that makes the door open when you press it. It feels as if he still has to find his way in this world. To seek his place. Even though a place as a brother, a friend and a husband seems comfortable to him, he cannot forget what he left behind. His crown, his war.

It makes him feel as if he is floating in the middle of it.]

But it would not be wise for me to take it. And you know I want it as well. For us to be what we were. Friends...brothers, even. [He sighs and his shoulders slump as he does. A tired look appears on his face.] Where we would ride out and hunt together. And I would laugh at your japes about Lord Leech. [Bloody Lord Leech was no laughing matter.] But when I consider it... Our friendship...it cannot be anymore. And I cannot kill you. Because I... [Because he hangs to the memories he loves the most.] ...I am a bloody craven. [It is not even a lie. But he rather says that than admitting to how he cannot let go of his past.]

And even if I want to. I cannot.

[reek]

I was never your brother.

[ Though it had felt that way once. Perhaps it's just easier to pretend it never did, to pretend that Robb was just as distant and cold as his own true brothers. After all, you can't be hurt by something that was never there to begin with. ]

You always knew what I was.

[ His smile is wry and burdened, not his usual cocky smirk. If he could turn time back, he would do it. If he could return to Pyke and talk sense into both Balon and himself, he would see it done. He would block out the laughter and the japes and the doubtful stares of the Ironborn and do what he felt was right, not what would earn him favor. ]

It seems we're both willing to admit to something, then. A turncloak and a craven. What a pair we make. [ A wry chuckle to match his wry smile. In a way, it relieves him to hear some semblance of the truth in a manner that isn't directed toward his own faults. ]

Very well, then. I've told you of Bran. [ He dries his bloody nose on his sleeve once more, shoulders slumping slightly. He would love nothing more than to have his old friend back, but he's tired. He didn't come here to argue. He came to deliver a message and nothing more than that. ] Should you ever wish to speak once more, you know where to find me. I'll do my best not to trouble you again.

[kingofbadlifechoices]

I know that now.

[The look on Robb’s face is a cold one.]

I must say that I have been blind to that before. We grew up next to one another, I used to think otherwise. [Robb shrugs, trying to pretend he does not care but the hurt look in his eyes says something completely different.

If he could undo all of this, he would have done it. No war, no loss of Winterfell and all those he loved. He realizes that more than ever now.

A part of him expects Theon to continue the discussion and he finds himself relieved when the other decides to end the conversation.]

I would appreciate that.