Who has to know?
Title: Who has to know?
Fandom: Game of thrones
Pairing: Robb/Theon
Spoilers: Nope.
Rating:PG
Prompt: Dirty little secret - All American Rejects (Choosen prompt under the cut)
Warnings / Contains: Hint of slash. Hurt/Comfort. Fair warning: I'm Italian and this is my first attempt to write in English so...
Word Count: 354
Summary: Made for throneland. I imagined Robb having one of Ned's related dreams.
Disclaimer: I don't own Game of thrones ( IN THAT CASE NED AND ANOTHER FEW GUYS WILL BE STILL ALIVE.) and this is just for fun.
Who has to know?
When we lives such fragile lives
It's the best to survive.
" Robb "
The voice disperses itself as a distant echo in the clammy feeling which grabs painfully your chest, envelops -cold and slippery- every fiber of your body and soul; that very soul you feel thrashing around without success in search of a relief which does not arrive.
There’s something in the darkness in which you move, or come moved, something familiar that you refuse to recognize; they’re smells, colors, forms you deny to recognize, they crowd your mind as ravens around a dead body.
Dead.
That word shakes in your head and clasps your throat, forcing you to remember.
" Robb "
Again a sound reverberates in your ears and you’d like to turn around and see where it comes from, but it’s too dark to focus on those corners where something could hide away; looking forward, you can hardly see soft lights attracting your attention, while your blood freezes.
Acknowledge comes even before the first gauge arises from the glow of fire: the crypts of Winterfell.
Your heart beats to the rhythm of warnings you often mocked of with your brothers, but this time it is true, you know that is true because despite you refuse to move forward, despite your shaking legs, despite the breath is not enough to scream, you know that if you close your eyes your very conscience will drag you in a deeper abyss than those crypts.
Breathing in deeply, your heartbeat gets back to calmness while weak eyelids close heavily.
" Robb "
You breathe out only when you realize, even vaguely, there is no crypt, no darkness; wet hair are annoyingly glued to your face and sweaty hands frantically move blankets in the verge of falling from your ad libbed bed.
" It was only a dream, Robb. "
Theon’s voice against your ear is like fresh water on a body consumed with fever, and you cling to the beating of his heart pressed against your back to find the courage to close your eyes again.
Fandom: Game of thrones
Pairing: Robb/Theon
Spoilers: Nope.
Rating:PG
Prompt: Dirty little secret - All American Rejects (Choosen prompt under the cut)
Warnings / Contains: Hint of slash. Hurt/Comfort. Fair warning: I'm Italian and this is my first attempt to write in English so...
Word Count: 354
Summary: Made for throneland. I imagined Robb having one of Ned's related dreams.
Disclaimer: I don't own Game of thrones ( IN THAT CASE NED AND ANOTHER FEW GUYS WILL BE STILL ALIVE.) and this is just for fun.
Who has to know?
When we lives such fragile lives
It's the best to survive.
" Robb "
The voice disperses itself as a distant echo in the clammy feeling which grabs painfully your chest, envelops -cold and slippery- every fiber of your body and soul; that very soul you feel thrashing around without success in search of a relief which does not arrive.
There’s something in the darkness in which you move, or come moved, something familiar that you refuse to recognize; they’re smells, colors, forms you deny to recognize, they crowd your mind as ravens around a dead body.
Dead.
That word shakes in your head and clasps your throat, forcing you to remember.
" Robb "
Again a sound reverberates in your ears and you’d like to turn around and see where it comes from, but it’s too dark to focus on those corners where something could hide away; looking forward, you can hardly see soft lights attracting your attention, while your blood freezes.
Acknowledge comes even before the first gauge arises from the glow of fire: the crypts of Winterfell.
Your heart beats to the rhythm of warnings you often mocked of with your brothers, but this time it is true, you know that is true because despite you refuse to move forward, despite your shaking legs, despite the breath is not enough to scream, you know that if you close your eyes your very conscience will drag you in a deeper abyss than those crypts.
Breathing in deeply, your heartbeat gets back to calmness while weak eyelids close heavily.
" Robb "
You breathe out only when you realize, even vaguely, there is no crypt, no darkness; wet hair are annoyingly glued to your face and sweaty hands frantically move blankets in the verge of falling from your ad libbed bed.
" It was only a dream, Robb. "
Theon’s voice against your ear is like fresh water on a body consumed with fever, and you cling to the beating of his heart pressed against your back to find the courage to close your eyes again.