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[turncloak]

Not Theon Greyjoy, but a device made to mimic his sweet words. If you're soliciting goods, I've got no interest, unless you're a lady and they're yours by birth. If you're from Westeros you'll have better luck trying to send a raven. Bar the obvious exceptions. But this message is long enough — time for yours.

TEXT / VOICE / VIDEO

Comments

[northerner]

It is no longer such a simple matter to take you at your word, Theon Greyjoy.

[turncloak]

I broke a promise, aye, but never once have I lied to you.

[northerner]

[ there's a pause. ]

Perhaps not. Perhaps you haven't.

[ and another pause. ]

Stannis Baratheon told me of his suspicions. I am...sorry, for doubting the truth of your account.

[turncloak]

[ That's not an apology he expected to get, and it's obvious. Theon swallows. ]

I forgive you.

[ See how easy that was dude? ]

[northerner]

I will not forget it again.

[ such an awkward pause. ]

[turncloak]

[ NO YOU'RE AN AWKWARD PAUSE!!!1 ]

Have you properly courted the Lady Caroline yet?

[ He means properly in the dirtiest possible sense. ]

[northerner]

[ alkgsjlkfdjalgkjalfdkja ]

No. I've a wife in Westeros, Theon.

[turncloak]

We had this conversation, about Westeros. Don't make me repeat myself.

[northerner]

I made promises to Jeyne.

[turncloak]

And then you died.

[northerner]

[ the silence stretches out. robb will never enjoy hearing that truth. ]

And what if the Door brings her here as well? What am I to say to her then?

[turncloak]

That you moved on, as widows tend to.

[ A pause, like the next thing seriously hasn't occurred to him. ]

Or did you love her that much?

[northerner]

[ robb says nothing for a very long time. his lady wife, speaking of her is a very particular sort of pain. ]

I would have, if I'd lived longer.

[turncloak]

Would you? Passion that singers make into ballads does not appear simply because you wish it so.

[northerner]

Yes, I would have.

[ his voice is quiet, but steady, sounding more certain than he actually is. ]

I never wanted to be in songs, regardless.

[turncloak]

Doubtless a bard has written one anyway. About me, as well, though there's not much rhymes with turncloak.

[northerner]

Not all would reference you as such.

[ there had been other battles, before, but robb cannot quite carry off convincing in his tone. ]

[turncloak]

[ A wry laugh. ]

Oh, do you think so? Perhaps not in Pyke, but they're not much for singing there, and most do not know my name.

[northerner]

[ robb is quiet for a few moments. ]

When last I was here you gifted me with a sword and a note, upon which you wrote "resworn." Did you mean that truly?

[turncloak]

[ ABRUPT TOPIC CHANGE. ]

I...

[ Yes. ]

What use have you for my allegiance? Targaryen is the true queen of Westeros.

[ Which isn't actually an answer to the question, but he's sullen with long weeks of only anger, decided already that the gesture was an idiotic, vulnerable one and he should keep his cards closer to his chest. ]

But you can keep the sword.

[northerner]

The note had more worth than the sword.

[ which is why robb keeps it still, safely tucked away to examine late at night when memories keep him from sleep. ]

[turncloak]

You never said so.

[northerner]

I was younger then.

[ and the cut of betrayal was something still intangible and far off, beyond his comprehension. it had been so easy to put the thought of it aside. ]

But I say it now.

[turncloak]

[ He wants to say too late as cruelly as he can, but it isn't at all, and he ducks his head. ]

Would you accept it, then? Is that what this is?

[northerner]

Yes.

[ his voice is quiet, steadier than it has any right to be. ]