As the dark inches closer

[JON SNOW]

the true enemy won't wait out the storm,

Often, Jon had been accused of a bevy of things. Of being naive, and stupid, and foolish. Of being proud, and entitled (him, a bastard, entitled?) and myriad other things. Sometimes, there was a kernel of truth to such accusations. More often, there were ulterior motives at play.

Now, though, Jon had to grudgingly admit that mayhaps the Lords and Ladies had a point. He had left as King in the North, against their advice, and returned as Warden of the North, side by side with a queen bringing dragons and men. So many men - he did not think he had ever before seen numbers like that, aside from Mance's army and the Army of the Dead. He understood what it meant, should they fail. How catastrophically large the Night King's Army would grow. But he also understood that now at least they had a chance - because of the two great beasts soaring overhead.

He had heard the rumblings from the Lords and Ladies, and from his kin alike. They did not like he had bent the knee; did not think he understood what it meant. In turn, he did not think they understood just how much problems were circling them. The Night King, the Army of the Dead, Winter. What the Lannisters would or would not do was of little consequence if they didn't live past next full moon.

And then there was that other revelation, which had shook him worse than the glares and whispers behind his back had done. He had grown inured to such sentiments at the Wall, where most of the brothers of the Night's Watch had not embraced him as one of their own. All he could do was keep Ghost at his side, a hand on his sword, and be vigilant for friends and foes wearing daggers or other weapons. But what Sam had told him... That had set his mind reeling.

Always he had wondered who his mother was. Fath- Ned Stark had never spoken about her, to him or anyone else as far as Jon was aware. He had heard plenty of rumours, from common girls to Lady Ashara Dayne, but Ned had never told Jon, despite repeated requests. To learn of the reason why was... Illuminating. He understood why the man had done what he had done; the Targaryens had been actively hunted, and to have a babe believed to be the product of rape? From the loins of the new king's beloved? Even a fool could see the trouble that spelled.

But to have no claim to the name Stark, to be a trueborn Targaryen... It was yet another kick that the gods felt fit to give him. He did not want to rule, to be family of Daenerys, to be a dragon. All he wanted was to be Jon Snow, to be with the Starks, those he had believed to be his siblings. The inner turmoil had not abated any as the sun rose past the horizon and cast a watery light on the white expanses outside the fort.

The last of Daenerys' army was still arriving, the number of men and horses too vast to travel compactly. And with it, one of the men he wanted to speak with was arriving. He had not consciously timed it so that Theon would have had little time to recover from the hard travel, but he did not regret it either. Though he felt sympathy for what the man must've gone through, as Ramsay's prisoner, he could not quite shed the memory of hearing about Bran's and Rickon's death, even if it turned out to be faked. He had forgiven the changed man for what he could, but he hadn't quite forgotten, and he wasn't quite sure yet if he shouldn't put the Greyjoy on trial and deal Northern justice.

Ghost silently slunk at his side, head and tail held low, red eyes alert. It was his sudden change of pace that had Jon glance over and spot the Greyjoy man. "Theon," he intoned, drawing the man's attention. Then, deliberately copying the words Theon had said to him last time. "May we speak?" Except now, it wasn't really a question - it was much more of an order. Theon's presence would cause some unrest, of that Jon had no doubts, and though he had an idea about what to do with the Greyjoy, he needed to know more before daring to do so.

Just below the walls of Winterfell

Hope this works?

THEON GREYJOY

?

[THEON GREYJOY]

Theon had started questioning his decision to sail back to Winterfell the moment he caught sight of the fortress’s great walls. Looking up at them from below, it had been a wonder he and Sansa had survived the jump without being severely injured. Thoughts of what would have happened had they not gotten away that day sent a shudder down his spine, and he quickly averted his gaze to the snow on the ground. That was when his reservations started rearing their head.

What if they didn’t want him there? What if Sansa hadn't meant what she said, or if she changed her mind? How helpful would one more person really be, in the grand scheme of things? Would they kill him, or just lock him up? He didn’t think he would survive another stay in Winterfell’s dungeons. But he knew he wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he didn’t try to offer his help in the coming fight. Yara didn’t need him to help take back the Iron Isles. With Euron’s fleet gone, that would be an easy mission. Protecting the North from those things.. on the other hand.. he probably wouldn’t have believed they existed had he not seen one himself... There was no question they needed every man they could get. 

Sansa had been welcoming, which was a great relief, but Theon couldn’t follow her around all day. She had been summoned off to do something undoubtedly important as the Lady of Winterfell, and that left him to his own devices for the time. He wandered outside but didn’t get far before the roads began to crowd with people watching the troops ride past. Winterfell had never had a very large population, and Theon didn’t think he had ever seen so many people in one place before in his life, save maybe on a battlefield. He stood with his back against a wall, his eyes darting back and forth as people from Daenerys’s army passed by. Nobody really paid him any mind. Not until Jon came out.

His head snapped up and to attention at the sound of his name. The question made him nervous, but he nodded quickly. ”Yes. Of course.” He was.. very well aware that it wasn’t actually a request, but an order. Not that he would have said no if given the option. Jon had, after all, listened to him when he made a similar inquiry, and he had had much less reason to do so. He waited for the other man to take the lead, unsure what he wanted to talk about, or where he wanted the conversation to take place.

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0

[JON SNOW]

the true enemy won't wait out the storm,

The Theon he saw in front of him was nothing like the Theon he remembered from before. Before he went to the Wall, before Theon joined Robb marching to the South, before everything fell apart around them. He didn't know exactly what Theon had done, or had not done. He'd heard rumours, reaching far enough North that even at the Wall they had heard about the deaths of Bran and Rickon, of Theon taking Winterfell. He hadn't been able to hold it, but he had taken it, that grand old fort, and that had surprised more people than just Jon. He didn't think that the castle had fallen to invaders in a long time. But then, it hadn't exactly been a foreign invader, had it?

That was what stung most about those events. After everything the Starks had done for him, the home they'd given him, how close he and Robb had been, still Theon felt fit to betray them all. Even if he hadn't actually killed Bran and Rickon, that still meant he had killed two innocent boys of the right age simmply to present them as the Stark boys - and Jon didn't know what he thought was worse. He couldn't reconcile all the stories and rumours he had heard about Theon ton gel into that one picture. Was he a craven, or was he courageous? Had he suffered enough? Could he redeem himself?

Though theoretically that didn't matter right now. Though Jon had grand ideas about justice, he was also pragmatic. With the Army of the Dead marching ever nearer, set on extinguishing the Living, every man that could hold a sword and swing it was valuable, and for all his faults, Sansa had spoken well of Theon. He didn't know his sister as he used to, if he ever had, but she had seen foul things too, and grown wiser than her years dictated. He wasn't wholly sure he could trust her - the time she called in reinforcements came to mind, although he would admit they had been a deciding factor in that battle. But it had set a precedent, and not necessarily a good one. He wanted to trust her; he wanted to rely on her, to trust her, to count her as family even if it had turned out she was only a cousin and not a half-sister. He wasn't sure what to think of it - during the day, he tried not to think of that particular revelation at all. Much better to remain busy with matters that were important.

Or less important, but still physically and mentally demanding, keeping his thoughts occupied and exhausting him enough he could sleep at night without churning over what Sam had told him, and what it all meant.

Theon's quick agreement also unsettled him a little. The Greyjoy heir had always made a show of being better than the Bastard of Winterfell, and to be listened to so easily... Well, it was strange. Even now that he had been in (unwilling) position of authority for a while. Better enjoy it while it lasted. "I suspect you have seen the way the Northerners watch you," Jon started, not shying away from what was likely a painful topic. He wasn't too eager to have this discussion, but it needed to be had. Even if Theon had not noticed the wary looks thrown his way, he certainly should notice Ghost's flat, angry stare, the red eyes not wavering. "My sister spoke well of you, and the Queen seems to have use for you," he continued. "She is not of the North, though, and the North remembers," he added, glancing up at the castle once more bearing the Stark banners.

"So tell me... Why should I forget? Why should I give you another chance?" Though Jon did not lay a hand on Longclaw's wolf-head pommel, or a dagger, or any other kind of weapon, the intense gaze resting upon Theon was meant to be intimidating.

He could not easily integrate Theon in the North's fighting forces, nor could he, as of right now, trust the cravevn Kraken. All that remained was choosing what to do with him - sent him to the front lines as fodder for the enemy, or something less lethal?

Just below the walls of Winterfell

Hope this works?

THEON GREYJOY

?

[THEON GREYJOY]

”I suspect you have seen the way the Northerners watch you.” Theon nodded his head. Though he’d largely stayed out of the way since he arrived, it had been hard not to shrink at the stares of the few who recognized him. None were faces that Theon could place as people who had been in the city during the Bolton’s occupation, but he was hardly difficult to pick out with the kraken sigil plastered on his chest.

Truth be told, it had never been easy being a Greyjoy in Winterfell. Theon remembered receiving similar looks when he first arrived in the North. ’The Ironborn are animals. Lord Stark’s a fool to let him wander the halls.’ had been the kind of thing visiting lords sneered. ’I should have put a sword in your belly instead of in your hand.’ Maybe Ser Rodrick had been right. It certainly would have saved them all a lot of trouble in the long run.

As soon as Jon uttered the words so often associated with house Stark, he knew where the conversation was going. His eyes remained fixed on the ground, away from Jon’s sword, and the direwolf’s prying gaze. Questions as a whole made him uncomfortable now, after the mind games Rasmsay had put him through, but it didn’t take long to come up with an answer.

”You shouldn’t,” he said, his voice betraying his nerves, though he spoke clearly, and honestly. ”I don’t deserve your trust. And I’m not here to ask for it.” Theon had no disillusion that he would be welcomed by the Starks, invited to their war meetings, or given a place at their table. ”I can leave, if that’s what you want. I just thought, if you were willing to fight alongside the Lannisters..” The very same people who murdered Ned, Robb, and Catelyn in cold blood.. well, what excuse did he have not to fight.

He was silent for a moment, but then he continued. ”I didn’t mean to do what I did.” he said, the words almost spilling out of his mouth. ”It’s not an excuse— It was my fault, and I’m the only one responsible— but it wasn’t what I wanted to happen.” He had never actively plotted against the Starks. He hadn’t woken up one day and decided to betray his only real friend. In fact, it had been attempt to help Robb and his army which had led him to Pyke, and began the chain of events which he’d wished desperately that he could forget about.

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0

[JON SNOW]

the true enemy won't wait out the storm,

Theon was resolutely ignoring Jon's gaze, despite his efforts to catch the man's gaze. Whether it was fear or something else, Jon couldn't tell, not yet. He didn't have Ghost's keen nose to pick out what one was feeling or not. The wolf was calm, though, not growling silently or otherwise responding to Theon's behaviour, so for now Jon would let it go. He knew they all had changed, Jon included. He was far from the bastard who'd join the Wall dreaming of glory and fame defending the Realm. Ironically, he'd gained some of both with his actions on and beyond the Wall, never mind having been chosen as King in the North. He'd gained it when he no longer wanted it, when his eyes had been opened to the truth of the men manning the Wall, and the threat behind it. The glory of war had long since faded for him, turning it into a dark and bothersome inevitability.

Oh, he'd fight, it was what he did best, and he had no place asking his men to fight an enemy like the one they were up against whilst remaining safe behind Winterfell's walls. Insofar those walls were safe. He'd seen them, the ruthlessness and determination of the wights. Hardhome's walls had been wood, not stone, but the wooden walls had barely formed an obstacle to the hordes. No, when they came, he would fight, and he might die. Again. At this point, it wasn't such a horror as it used to be. Death certainly would absolve him of a number of regrets, of guilt and fear and this responsibility for not just the Notherners, but all people currently gathered in the Winterfell. Daenerys had come, with her armies and her dragons, and she may be enough to sway the tide of battle in their favour, and she may be the Queen, but even though he had bent the knee, a thought that still chafed, he hadn't surrended the responsibility.

Part of him felt for the man, nerves audible in his voice. Theon was a shade of his former self, the cockiness and the arrogance having eroded under rough times, shoulders bent under the weight of... Guilt? Fear? Cowardice? Again, Jon lacked Ghost's keen nose and couldn't quite tell. It was why he hadn't made a move against the Greyjoy yet. He'd met thieves, murderers and rapists at the Wall, men who had done crimes to find food for their children and men who had done so simply because they could, because it pleased them. If he had been able to work with them, he could work with Theon. Besides, much as he did not want to admit it (out loud), the (former?) Greyjoy heir had a point in that he was willing to fight alongside Lannisters. Just the two of them, really, and Tyrion's change of heart wasn't very recent.

He was surprised Theon was still that astute, given how... Withdrawn and small he seemed these days. That made him more dangerous, not less, but it was good to know. That way, he could be prepared.

His words were... Heartening, to a degree. They seemed to be heartfelt, and though he had no doubt that Theon had considered his words, they did not seem rehearsed or practiced. "Stay," he answered, before he had really considered his words. "We need every able man capable of handling a sword or other weapon," he contineud, sounding older than his years. Then, thinking of the other Lannister, realised it wasn't even about able men, just men capable of handling weapons. And themselves, in a fight, which he wasn't quite sure about with Theon.

"What did you think would happen?" Jon asked, equal parts curious and holding back his fury. He hadn't been there, and he was aware that that might warp how he viewed things, but all he had heard made him... Wonder. He still wasn't sure if he was going to believe Theon just because of what THeon said, because he knew the power of words now, and though he wasn't a master at wielding them, or even parsing the truth behind them, he had grown more cautious. Betrayal could come from unexpected angles.

"You won't be joining the main army," he stated, coolly. He'd forgiven Umber and Karstark for the crimes of their fathers, but it was not so easy for Theon - he may have committed these heinous acts for his father, but he had been the one committing them. Putting him amongst the men of the Northern Army would mean his death in a way JOn was far too familiar with. Much as he disliked Theon, he could not condemn him to that fate. That did not mean he was going to send Theon away; as he had said, they needed everyone. And if he was willing to stay... Well, the situation was dire enough. He had an idea on how to make him useful, but he wanted to gauge Theon's reply first.

Just below the walls of Winterfell

Hope this works?

THEON GREYJOY

?

[THEON GREYJOY]

”What did you think would happen?” The edge in his tone almost made Theon apologize, take back his words he had said by default. If this was a game, he would have lost. Were Jon a different man, he could practically feel the knife scraping his skin. ”I thought my father would give us ships.” It sounded so simple.. put like that. So stupid. ”To take Kings Landing. To rescue Sansa and Arya. Robb and I worked it all out. There was no other way. That was why I went back to the Iron Isles.” He looked at Jon, but only briefly, as if to ask permission before continuing.

”I thought they’d be happy to see me— I thought they’d listen to me when I said we should ally with the North. I was wrong… My father didn’t care about me. He told me I was dead to my face. That Winterfell had made me too weak and soft. Can you believe it?” To be told he was too soft after a lifetime in Winterfell being told he was too harsh. ”That I would never rule the Isles, or sail a ship. And that the Ironborn word never fight alongside the Starks.” And that was how that plan went straight down the gutter.

He didn’t elaborate on his own thoughts or actions but Jon could put together the pieces. His entire childhood, Theon had spoken of his family with revere. He had been proud to flaunt that he was Ironborn, even when it got him sneered at by the old Northern men. He had thought himself above Jon, because of his position as Balon’s heir, and had known— or thought he’d known— with certainty, that one day he would rule the Northern seas while Robb saw to the lands. And to lose that title, that dream, and that entire piece of his identity in less than five minutes… he hadn’t known how to deal with that.

”I never planned to keep Winterfell.” The Greyjoys had no use for the ancestral home and Theon knew that when he took it. ”But I thought.. if I could hold it until my father got word.. show him that I was capable.. show everyone.. I would ceed it back to Robb.. broker a deal between our houses or something..” It hadn’t been the most well thought out plan, but Theon hadn’t really had time to think. He had been hurt and confused and didn’t feel like he could go back to Robb or his father empty handed. Taking Winterfell, as easy as it was, had been a move get people to take him seriously. To realize that he wasn’t just some pawn to be moved around, as he had been, without his consent.

”I promised Bran I wouldn’t hurt anyone… and I meant it, when I said it.” He supposed the young Stark might be the only person who could truly vouch for his story. Theon hadn’t been cruel to Bran or Rickon when he took the castle. He hadn’t hurt them, hadn’t even locked them up- one of the few decisions he made that he thanked himself for. ”But people fought back, and the Ironborn don’t take prisoners. They’d have done worse— to everyone. So I thought, if I just made an example of one person, that’d be it.” The Ironborn would respect his authority and the Northerners would see that it was stupid to rise up against him. He’d have to kill someone, but someone who had actively fought against his men. Someone who would have killed him if given the chance. Men had been justly killed for less.

”I was wrong.” he admitted, again. One death hadn’t been enough, and the hole he dug had just kept getting deeper and deeper until there was no way out in sight. ”I was wrong about everything. I should have gone back to Robb. I should have died with him, at the Red Wedding.” And he regretted that he didn’t, every single day of his life.

He furrowed his eyebrows slightly, surprised when Jon said that he would not be joining the main army. He assumed that Jon would want to put as little effort into dealing with him as possible, and throwing him into the main army just seemed like the easiest way to make him someone else’s problem. He wasn’t a great fighter anymore, not after the things that had been done to him, but he could still hold his own, and they were arming people with far less skill. But perhaps he was being punished after all, a warriors death too good for him. ”I’ll go wherever you see fit.” It was Jon’s choice and Theon wouldn’t argue it, whatever it was.

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0

[JON SNOW]

the true enemy won't wait out the storm,

The way Theon described his version of events was... Plausible, perhaps. Jon understood the power of parental approval, of striving for that. For years, he had tried to be the perfect son, in the hope that one day Lady Stark would no longer frown at him. He had never succeeded in gaining her approval, or even her ignoring him. He wished it had, sometimes. He had almost felt like a real Stark sometimes, a real son to Ned and a real sibling to Robb and Arya, but Lady Catelyn and Sansa had always ensured he remembered he was but a snow. Or that was what they believed in, then. Still, he did not think he would ever have stooped so low, even if he truly believed he might gain her approval, and with hers, that of father too. He had no trouble believing that Theon's father held that piont of view, and told him to his face. The Greyjoys weren't known for their kindness and consideration.

But it was plausible enough he could let it slip by, for now. These were desperate times, after all.

Carefully, he refrained from responding. It turned out that the boy could learn, could become a man. Because he'd never seen Theon as particularly strong. Then again, he had only seen Theon in peace time, back at home in Winterfell, before everything happened. None of them were then as they were now. All of them had changed, had withstood the test of time one way or another, and come out changed. He knew he was stronger, now, but it had come at a price. One he didn't like to think about - and he had a feeling the same went for Theon.

"My.. Sister vouched for you," he told Theon, sure he would understand the gravity of those words. He supposed that Bran's acceptance also counted for something; he had an uncanny knowledge of past and future alike. Still Jon would not blindly trust the Greyjoy again. If ever. "You will serve in the castle, as Lady Stark's detail," he finally decreed. Sansa was one of the few who saw something better in him, and he had proven loyal to her before, willing to risk his life to help her escape. And sticking close to her would likely also protect him from the worst of Northern scorn, without wasting precious resources. "Do know, though, that I have executed men for lesser offenses. Should you cause harm to Sansa, or fail to protect her, I will not hesitate to ensure it is the very last time."

Just below the walls of Winterfell

Hope this works?

THEON GREYJOY

?

[THEON GREYJOY]

Jon’s silence was agonizing. It had been a long time since Theon had spoken so many words at once, words he’d wanted to say, and he half expected Jon to cut him off before he’d finished. By the time he mentioned Robb, he was genuinely emotional, though he did his best not to show it. Theon’s decisions on their own hadn’t been what led to Robb’s demise. But Theon had never had a chance to explain himself to Robb, nor had he had a chance to mourn him. He wasn’t quite sure what he believed in, in terms of an afterlife, but if there was one, it was Robb’s judgment that he feared and forgiveness that he hoped for, far more than Ned Stark’s or Balon Greyjoy’s.

”Thank you.” he said, still a little surprised by the position Jon had given him. Being assigned to Sansa’s guard was an honor he didn’t feel like he deserved, and far more than he ever would have asked for. On top of being a responsibility that was actually important, it took away a lot of his anxiety about being in Winterfell. ”I would never hurt her.” Theon asserted. That was one thing Jon didn’t have to worry about. He would swear to that— swear his life on it. He supposed he couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t fail to protect her. He could die, they could all die at the hands of the dead. But he would do everything that he could to see Sansa survive it.

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0

[JON SNOW]

the true enemy won't wait out the storm,

It was easy enough to see the tension in Theon's body language as Jon deliberated on a decision he had essentially already taken. Theon's answers had been the right ones, insofar there were right ones. But since he and Sansa had reunited, he couldn't help but worry about the safety of his sis-cousin. She had suffered enough; he did not want to pile upon her old hurts. But she had vouched for Theon, and he seemed dedicated enough to her. Besides, there weren't many other options.

"Don't thank me yet," was all Jon said in response. The man had come to quite possibly the most dangerous place in the Seven Kingdoms - although the Wall, or what remained of it, was likely even more dangerous. Not something he wanted to think about; he'd lost enough people already, and Edd had kept the Wall manned in continuance of his orders. Those deaths were on him. He'd worry about it later, though, if there was a later.

"I'm sure she can sort out somewhere for you to sleep," he continued with the more practical matters. He wasn't quite invested in housing etcetera; he'd always either been on the receiving end of such orders, or a steward to do something like that. There likely was one around here, too, but he preferred to send Theon straight to Sansa. He needed to protect her, she was best suited to decide where Theon was to stay.

Just below the walls of Winterfell

Hope this works?

THEON GREYJOY

?