By the White 2/3heartlesskidsMay 8 2012, 05:11:24 UTC
It was later in his years that Jon thought to notice how similar they were, and how different. Jon was, as Theon would say, a “sullen, joyless bitch of a man” while Theon smiled with eerie pleasantry at almost everything. But Theon took Jon under his wing, teaching him to shoot and happily describing his experience with prostitutes. Sometimes, if Jon asked, he would tell about his mother. “She was pretty,” Theon recalled, lying out lazily on his bed. “Her face was hard, like Lady Catelyn’s, and she had long hair.” He touched his own hair. “Brown, I think. A little gray in parts.” Theon looked at his hands. “Sometimes, when Rodrik and Maron played too rough, she’d hold my hands and take me out to the shallow water. We made villages out of sand and raided them. Sometimes we picked clams and we’d have the cook steam them.” “Steam them?” Jon echoed. Theon grinned. “And eat them with salt and butter. Food back home was…it was fishier, but not as salty. Fruit was hard to come by.” He frowned. “I liked lemons, I think.” “Do you miss it?” Jon asked. Theon’s face tightened. “No,” he said, and it sounded like yes. -- It was even later that Jon noticed how Robb acted when he and Theon spoke privately. He became twitchy, almost sullen, and often retaliated by pulling one of them away shortly after. “He’s just used to attention,” Theon told Jon. “The prince of Winterfell’s bitter about not being loved the most.” Yes, the attention part seemed right, but Jon wasn’t sure it was the way Theon meant it. He wasn’t sure why, but Robb seemed almost angry when they laughed together, ate together, even though they both cared for him as well. To allay the strange tension, Theon took them all to a pub. He drank a lot more than he should have, and Jon saw Robb watching him with narrow eyes. Theon, of course, didn’t notice. “You’re a pretty little bastard,” he snorted into his drink. Jon rolled his eyes. “You could make more money than all the whores in Winterfell.” “Thank you,” Jon said dryly, and Theon laughed drunkenly. “You don’t know how to have fun,” he pouted. He squinted at his mug. “I think I need more ale.” “I think you need some sleep,” Robb said, and Theon slung an arm around Jon. “Look at him,” he whispered loudly. “Princess Perfect, so solemn and honrbl.” Theon shook his head and corrected, ”Honorable.” “You’ve had enough to drink,” Robb said icily. He nodded at Jon and they hauled Theon up by his arms, dragging him back toward home. They’d reached Theon’s chambers when he grabbed Jon’s shirt, pulling him with him as he fell on his bed. “You need sex,” Theon mumbled, and pressed a kiss to his lips. He fell back and slapped a coin to his chest. “No brother of mine is dying a virgin.” “I don’t plan to die at all,” Jon informed him. “I’m going to grow teeth and become a dragon, burning Westoros as I go.” Theon snorted and Jon turned to grin at Robb. His smile faltered at the strange, blazing hardness in his half-brother’s eyes. “Goodnight,” Robb said curtly, and he stormed off. ”Honor,” Theon snorted into his pillow, and Jon debated whether to smother him.
By the White 3/3heartlesskidsMay 8 2012, 16:52:09 UTC
“What in the seven hells is wrong with him?” Theon seethed. Jon assumed he meant Robb. “The little priss has been acting up all week, haven’t you noticed?” Robb had been in a foul mood, alternatively glaring at the both of them or dragging Theon off alone. Jon had his suspicions, but he wasn’t one to raise rumors. Theon had no such qualms. “He’s probably in love,” Theon grumbled. “With some lowly peasant girl, and now he’s taking it out on us because he can’t marry her out of honor.” He sighed. “We’re sad little sods, aren’t we? The beating boys of Winterfell.” “I don’t think that’s what Robb means to do,” Jon assured him. Robb squinted at them suspiciously from where he was with Bran and Jon tried not to roll his eyes. Gods, how could they both be so dense? Jon vowed not be as stupid as them. “Why is he staring?!” Theon burst out. Maester Luwin stared. “Is the sky falling? Have I caught fire?” “From your ego,” Jon said, and Theon tackled him. -- Jon approached Robb alone after supper, very aware that Robb preferred his company without Theon’s (or Theon’s without his, he supposed). “Theon’s my brother,” Jon said. Robb blinked at him. “As are you.” “I know,” Robb said, but he looked unsure. Jon leaned in close and said bluntly, “My brother. Nothing more.” They stared at one another for a long time and Robb finally nodded. -- Jon wished he could have said he was surprised when Theon stormed up to him, grabbing his arm and dragging him across the yard. From a distance he saw Robb, snow in his hair and looking flustered. “He kissed me,” Theon hissed in the privacy of his room. Jon sat on the bed, listening. “Not a kiss between brothers, he kissed me.” “Finally,” Jon muttered, and Theon pinned him with an accusing stare. “You knew?” he snapped, then paused. “Is this why -” “He’s been such a ‘priss’? Yes.” Jon tried not to laugh at Theon’s expression. “And he thought - you - me -” “I suppose.” Jon watched Theon splutter with silent glee - finally, some entertainment that wasn’t at his own expense. “What are you going to do about it?” -- Sometimes, Jon regretted helping Robb come to terms with his relationship with Theon. At least back then, he didn’t have to worry about finding them together. They were his brothers. “Even the Wall is better than this,” he muttered, storming out of the room. Theon laughed behind him.
Re: By the White 3/3brighterloveMay 9 2012, 23:41:10 UTC
This was lovely. Oh and yes Having a brother like Theon would make Jon less angsty. Thank God! See now I kind of want to read more of this pairing. Fandon is a blackhole of madness/darkness. lol
Re: By the White 3/3mybabyangelMay 18 2012, 10:12:00 UTC
YES GOOD. i love dense boys not realising they're in love and i love jon snow not being an emo kid. i love that he got to play matchmaker and that now it will bite him in the ass forever. i just love everything. thank you for writing!
Re: By the White 2/3brighterloveMay 9 2012, 23:38:14 UTC
a “sullen, joyless bitch of a man” That line right there sums up Jon perfectly. God Bless his heart, but man is he an emo little bastard. Love him dearly anyway. These boys are love
Sometimes, if Jon asked, he would tell about his mother.
“She was pretty,” Theon recalled, lying out lazily on his bed. “Her face was hard, like Lady Catelyn’s, and she had long hair.” He touched his own hair. “Brown, I think. A little gray in parts.” Theon looked at his hands. “Sometimes, when Rodrik and Maron played too rough, she’d hold my hands and take me out to the shallow water. We made villages out of sand and raided them. Sometimes we picked clams and we’d have the cook steam them.”
“Steam them?” Jon echoed. Theon grinned.
“And eat them with salt and butter. Food back home was…it was fishier, but not as salty. Fruit was hard to come by.” He frowned. “I liked lemons, I think.”
“Do you miss it?” Jon asked. Theon’s face tightened.
“No,” he said, and it sounded like yes.
--
It was even later that Jon noticed how Robb acted when he and Theon spoke privately. He became twitchy, almost sullen, and often retaliated by pulling one of them away shortly after.
“He’s just used to attention,” Theon told Jon. “The prince of Winterfell’s bitter about not being loved the most.”
Yes, the attention part seemed right, but Jon wasn’t sure it was the way Theon meant it. He wasn’t sure why, but Robb seemed almost angry when they laughed together, ate together, even though they both cared for him as well.
To allay the strange tension, Theon took them all to a pub. He drank a lot more than he should have, and Jon saw Robb watching him with narrow eyes.
Theon, of course, didn’t notice.
“You’re a pretty little bastard,” he snorted into his drink. Jon rolled his eyes. “You could make more money than all the whores in Winterfell.”
“Thank you,” Jon said dryly, and Theon laughed drunkenly.
“You don’t know how to have fun,” he pouted. He squinted at his mug. “I think I need more ale.”
“I think you need some sleep,” Robb said, and Theon slung an arm around Jon.
“Look at him,” he whispered loudly. “Princess Perfect, so solemn and honrbl.” Theon shook his head and corrected, ”Honorable.”
“You’ve had enough to drink,” Robb said icily. He nodded at Jon and they hauled Theon up by his arms, dragging him back toward home. They’d reached Theon’s chambers when he grabbed Jon’s shirt, pulling him with him as he fell on his bed.
“You need sex,” Theon mumbled, and pressed a kiss to his lips. He fell back and slapped a coin to his chest. “No brother of mine is dying a virgin.”
“I don’t plan to die at all,” Jon informed him. “I’m going to grow teeth and become a dragon, burning Westoros as I go.”
Theon snorted and Jon turned to grin at Robb. His smile faltered at the strange, blazing hardness in his half-brother’s eyes.
“Goodnight,” Robb said curtly, and he stormed off.
”Honor,” Theon snorted into his pillow, and Jon debated whether to smother him.
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Robb had been in a foul mood, alternatively glaring at the both of them or dragging Theon off alone. Jon had his suspicions, but he wasn’t one to raise rumors.
Theon had no such qualms.
“He’s probably in love,” Theon grumbled. “With some lowly peasant girl, and now he’s taking it out on us because he can’t marry her out of honor.” He sighed. “We’re sad little sods, aren’t we? The beating boys of Winterfell.”
“I don’t think that’s what Robb means to do,” Jon assured him. Robb squinted at them suspiciously from where he was with Bran and Jon tried not to roll his eyes. Gods, how could they both be so dense?
Jon vowed not be as stupid as them.
“Why is he staring?!” Theon burst out. Maester Luwin stared. “Is the sky falling? Have I caught fire?”
“From your ego,” Jon said, and Theon tackled him.
--
Jon approached Robb alone after supper, very aware that Robb preferred his company without Theon’s (or Theon’s without his, he supposed).
“Theon’s my brother,” Jon said. Robb blinked at him. “As are you.”
“I know,” Robb said, but he looked unsure. Jon leaned in close and said bluntly, “My brother. Nothing more.”
They stared at one another for a long time and Robb finally nodded.
--
Jon wished he could have said he was surprised when Theon stormed up to him, grabbing his arm and dragging him across the yard. From a distance he saw Robb, snow in his hair and looking flustered.
“He kissed me,” Theon hissed in the privacy of his room. Jon sat on the bed, listening. “Not a kiss between brothers, he kissed me.”
“Finally,” Jon muttered, and Theon pinned him with an accusing stare.
“You knew?” he snapped, then paused. “Is this why -”
“He’s been such a ‘priss’? Yes.” Jon tried not to laugh at Theon’s expression.
“And he thought - you - me -”
“I suppose.” Jon watched Theon splutter with silent glee - finally, some entertainment that wasn’t at his own expense. “What are you going to do about it?”
--
Sometimes, Jon regretted helping Robb come to terms with his relationship with Theon. At least back then, he didn’t have to worry about finding them together. They were his brothers.
“Even the Wall is better than this,” he muttered, storming out of the room. Theon laughed behind him.
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“Even the Wall is better than this,” he muttered, storming out of the room. Theon laughed behind him.
less angsty Jon is fun (& I loved him mentioning Theon's ego)
And both Theon's & Robb being obvious & annoying in their own ways ♥
(and now Jon is going to regret helping them forever haha)
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