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]

[ 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.