Lord S.C.

Alive by Lord_SC, @lord-sc

Years have passed, but even time cannot erase the past. Theon is only too aware of that fact as his own personal ghosts haunt him day after day and night after night.

Perhaps he deserved it. Perhaps it is even a blessing. It doesn’t feel like it, of course.

Whether through your stories or events or comments or just your general kindness and insight, you’re always so impressive!

A Song of Ice and Fire:  Jeyne Poole

I keep seeing posts gushing about Theon earning his forgiveness by the Starks and becoming an honorary Stark and doing the right thing fighting for the Starks and dying in the North sacrificing his life for a Stark.

😒😕😟😧😬😟😤🤢

* The Starks fought in a war alongside the Baratheon-Lannisters to prevent the Iron Islands from gaining Independence.

* All of Theon's brothers died in that war.

* The Starks held Theon, the only living son of the Lord of the Iron Islands, hostage at 8 years old to his late teens in order to prevent the Iron Islands from rebelling again.

* Theon Greyjoy was 1st in line as leader to one of the Nine Kingdoms, a position higher than a royal House such as the Mormonts or Umbers or Freys or Boltons.

* Theon was separated from his family, home, and Kingdom. He was gone for so long he didn't recognize his sister.

* Theon was treated as a hostage-ward instead of a Lord's son.

* Theon was psychologically & physically tortured for years by Ramsay. He was tied up, starved, hunted, nearly raped, forbidden from bathing, fingers & cock chopped off, his genitals sent to his dad, slept in a dog kennel, forced to watch girls get eaten alive by dogs & raped, told to strip naked so his abuser could humiliate him by exposing his castration, and renamed Reek.

* The Starks, Baratheons, Lannisters, & other Houses who ran two little innocent Targaryen children out of their castle were not punished and didn't have to dedicate the rest of their lives to making amends.

* Theon died away from the sea, away from his sister, away from his new life.

* Theon died in the place he was held as a prisoner twice by two different families for half of his life.

* Theon died at 24. In his early 20s!

* Theon survived brutalization, mutilation, degradation, and just when he was given the opportunity to break free and heal and find himself and connect and breathe he was killed off because he once wronged the only family D&D actually cared about.

I hope this is ok sweet anon - I aimed to do both. It’s my first time writing them so thank you for the push. Here’s Arya coming home for Christmas 🥧❤️

After the long flight from Braavos, the chaos of arrivals is disorientating. With the sound of announcements over the tannoy and the noise of her fellow travellers and those greeting them in her ears, Arya walks like the sleep starved zombie she is out into the main hall, shivering in the cold of the North and hoping Jon will spot her quickly so as to save her from having to hunt herself.

She doesn’t regret the last minute decision to return home for Christmas, but she does regret having not made it sooner. Frantic cleaning and packing is not something that aids getting into the festive spirit.

When Arya spots him through the crowds, she stops still in her tracks and suffers the fate of a few annoyed tuts at the blockage caused. She’d already been feeling emotional. Now the tears spring in the corners of her eyes with no hope of holding them back.

“How…?” she asks once she’s recovered enough to approach him. “I thought --”

Gendry’s lips form a hesitant smile. “Jon called. I hope you’re not disappointed?”

“I… I’m so sorry.” Arya searches his face for a reaction, but his expression stays steady. “I was such an idiot.“

“I brought you something,” says Gendry, with only a small gnaw on his bottom lip to tell her he’s nervous, like nothing had ever happened. Like she hadn’t panicked and called off the attempted long distance relationship everyone had told them they were foolish to try.

Arya chuckles lightly, dabbing her eyes in a bid to contain herself. “I’m pretty certain I’m supposed to be the one bringing gifts.”

Reaching into a carrier bag, he produces a box of mince pies, and with it comes an unrestrained stream of tears trickling down her cheeks. 

“You remembered,” Arya laughs, recalling their first date and making the perhaps unusual choice of sweet in the coffeeshop, and his smile finally looks true to him. Pushing past the awkwardness she moves in to give him a one armed hug and finds herself looking up longingly at his lips. Then, in a moment of madness, she picks herself up onto her tiptoes hopefully. 

Her heart pounds in the couple of seconds it takes for Gendry to take up the invitation and kiss her softly on the lips. She inhales deep, he smells like home. “I love you,” she whispers, looking into sharp blue eyes. 

Gendry takes the pies from her and places them on the suitcase beside them, never moving his gaze from her. “I love you too,” he says right before he sweeps her into another kiss that eclipses all others. 

Thank you! There was a call for non angsty christmas greysnow and I pretty much managed it completely. I attempted to combine the two, but its only half 6. It’s Christmas morning 🎅

The first thing Theon feels on waking is the warmth of Jon’s body pressed up against him, complete with the hand on his hip. The second comes when he stretches, his foot hitting something lumpy at the end of the bed. Something that crinkles suspiciously.

“Snow?” he asks, sitting up to investigate with a yawn. The air is cold and makes him immediately long to be back in Jon’s arms. It’s not even light outside yet, but then how many households manage to sleep in past sunrise at Christmas.

Groggy with sleep, Jon only murmurs in response.

“Snow,” Theon tries again, “we said no presents.”

Eyes still closed, Jon cracks a cheeky smile at remembering both the deal and presumably what he’s done. No one else has crept in here to leave only gifts for Theon. “Mmm… ‘s from Santa.”

Theon takes something squishy from the stocking that only be socks and chucks it playfully at him.

“Ow,” Jon says feebly, and rather unconvincingly it has to be said, sweeping his hand over his bare chest where he’d been hit.

“You agreed, no presents!”

“You’re not the boss of me,” he mumbles, reaching out to stroke Theon’s arm. “Merry Christmas.”

Looking between the full to bursting stocking in his hand and Jon laid half asleep, particularly sweet with his bedhead, Theon’s chest feels tight. He drops the presents from his hands and leans back to kiss him softly on the lips. “I’ve not… not since…” Not since his mum had still been able to put together such a thing.

Jon opens his eyes just enough to see him and reaches forwards to move his hair gently back from his face. “I guessed.”

“You’re such an arsehole,” Theon accuses him.

Jon laughs. “Excuse me?”

“It’s too early for this level of sentimentality. Stop making me feel things before I’ve had coffee.”

The pad of Jon’s thumb brushes over his lips. “That’s where you’re going wrong.”

“Go on.”

“You seem to think I’d ever listen to you.”

After a roll of his eyes, Theon finally says, “thank you.”

“Now was that really so hard?” Jon asks against his lips.

“You’re pushing your luck,” says Theon right before he’s drawn by the hand at his jaw into a tender kiss.

He may struggle to articulate his thanks and, if he’s being honest, affection in words, but he’s not about to throw away the opportunity to show him how he feels. Jon moans, content and welcoming, when Theon parts their lips to deepen it from the planned peck, and then again when it becomes harsher, more demanding. Jon’s hands feel hot on Theon’s sides when he encourages his momentum to climb over until his knees bracket hips.