#(almost...).

     HOW STRANGE IT IS TO HEAR THESE WORDS. something he would have deemed impossible a mere few years ago, now indeed happening; a small, soft little start to feelings of trust, loyalty       perhaps even something like love between brothers who once could barely stand one another’s company. over the past few weeks Maron has ventured deep into the realms of introspection and while he has figured that it’s a place he doesn’t like very much, the journey itself perhaps was quite necessary. a quiet voice in the back of his head at least keeps on whispering that Theon perhaps could have always loved him, if he had only given him the chance to do so.

      approaching his brother is strangely easy; what used to be tedious and strained now feels like a stroll across the sand, and just as easily does he wrap an arm around Theon’s shoulders to pull him into a brief, but remarkably loving embrace. contrary to what Theon may have ever believed, Maron is rarely one to shy away from physical touch. especially when it concerns family. the hug, brief as it may be, is tight, supportive almost. a quiet reassurance that yes, he can be relied on. he’s made a promise, after all. a promise to help his little brother become what he was always meant to be.

      “if you start crying I will have to slap you, you know that.” words that once may have been a threat are nothing but teasing now. some weakness and wavering remains in Theon’s voice and body. a shiver that has become a constant companion it seems. something to work on, to say the least. he releases Theon but keeps a hand on his shoulder; quiet support perhaps, he’s not quite sure either. and the look he then gives his brother is warm but quite determined. “you know I still believe Ramsay Bolton needs to die.” they’ve had the conversation before          no need not to drag it back up again.