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He stands in the Godswood, whole and safe. He can’t remember how he got this way, but he knows what led him here. Theon’s hand touches his chest only to find smooth armor, free of any piercings or holes. The snow at his feet is white and light. Unlike when he had last seen it: thick with blood and sorrow. This was a Godswood entering spring, entering light. The storm has passed. Theon wonders if it will be the same for the real Godswood. The one he died in.
There is a soft crunch of snow behind him and Theon’s heart race. He hopes it is the one person he wants- no, needs to see. He wonders if he is really worthy of facing him a second time.
“You came back.”
Theon’s knees threaten to buckle at the sound of Robb’s voice. How many years had it been? How many long, painful years had it been since the two of them stood together here? It is once again that Theon’s wishes he could go back and change it all. Stay by Robb’s side, protect the North, keep Winterfell safe from the Boltons, keep Robb alive and safe and maybe, just maybe, they could have a happier life than the one they had led instead.
“I didn’t have a choice,” Theon finds himself saying, though he isn’t sure that if he was given the choice that he’d choose differently.
Footsteps approach but Theon still can’t face him. Can’t turn around and look him in the eyes. Not after another failure. Not after leaving Bran alone.
“You’re wrong. You always have a choice. Death has no bounds to anyone.”
A leather gloves hand comes to his shoulder. It feels too real and Theon’ bites his tongue to hold back the sob threatening to come forth.
“I failed you again.” Before Robb can say anything, Theon bows his head, knees buckling and dropping into the soft earth. It feels wet. Feels real. Is this really what death is like? Even life couldn’t feel so real. “I couldn’t save Bran.”
He feels Robb drop beside him. From the corner of his eye, Theon sees a flash a red and clenches his eyes shut.
“Is Bran here?” Robb asks, his voice already knowing the answer. Theon doesn’t answer. “You have nothing to prove; you never did. You-” Robb takes a deep breath, his hand grabbing Theon’s and squeezing. “You saved him. You saved Sansa. You protected Winterfell, our home. You owe my family nothing, yet you saved them.”
There is a pressure on his shoulder and when he turns his head towards it, he can feel the softness of Robb’s curls against his cheek, smell the pinewoods and smoke of Winterfell in it. It’s an old nostalgic smell, one from a time long ago. Theon allows himself this one comfort and leans into it, burying his face in Robb’s hair.
“You didn’t owe us anything, yet after everything you were still there. Thank you.”
Tears sting his eyes. Theon can feel them breaking through the dam. He changes the grip in their joined hands so he can squeeze Robb’s hand back, to hold his hand like they never got to before.
“Now and always.”
The laugh that bubbles from Robb is both one of comfort and understanding. “I’ve missed you. I’m missed you so goddamn much.”
Theon has a hard time believing him, but it doesn’t stop him from whispering it back.
He doesn’t know how long they stay knelt in the snow. Time seems to stay still, maybe it is death or maybe it is being with Robb. Either way, they stay there pressed against each other for what could have been hours. There was really no way to tell.
There is a pounding of footsteps. Theon is too slow to react and only really jumps when he feels a hot breath on the back of his neck and a nuzzle of a cold nose on his ear. Greywind whines, circling around the two of them before falling into the snow before them, watching them with sharp eyes.
“I think he missed you too.”
“The best of them,” Theon murmurs the quiet joke they had whispered so many years ago.
Robb moves first. Immediately, Theon wants to pull him back, keep the closeness a little longer. But as Robb stands up, he offers a hand to Theon and he realizes they have no time limit anymore. They truly have an always now.
“Come. Rickon is probably crying to see you. He wanted to come along to greet you, but I…I wanted it to just be the two of us.”
A faint blush comes across Robb’s cheeks and Theon wonders if he’d be allow to kiss it like he had done when they were boys, hiding from Jon and the others to be alone for a few moments.
Theon doesn’t know whether to smile or cry at the thought of Rickon. Robb and Rickon, both gone before their time.
Theon lets Robb pull him up until they are chest to chest. Neither move away. Seeing him again, seeing that red hair and those blue eyes and the mess of freckles across his cheeks- Theon never wants to look away.
“Smile, Theon,” Robb says, his voice soft and quiet. His hand comes up to caress Theon’s cheek. “You’re home now.”