Post by ironsalt on Aug 19, 2014 23:20:33 GMT -5
Firstly, English is not my mother tongue. (Obviously.) So please excuse bad, broken grammar, etc.
Also, this is the first English work I wrote, so it bounds to be much flawed.
I started this from the kinkmeme 'Theon, what's a saltwife?' I drew the cartoon first, then shortly after wrote this. The original meme and the cartoon were to be silly and cracky, but somehow this writing headed to the opposite direction. I guess I wanted to make it bittersweet? I might and want to try a few different storylines based on the saltwife meme thing, but as my English is much limited, I'm doubtful.
Anyways, for now this is all I've got.
--
1.
He, the only living son of Balon Greyjoy, was ten years old when he first arrived at Winterfell. Robb Stark, the eldest son of the house Stark was four years junior to him. The young six year old boy greeted Theon with an innocent, angel like smile on his face. Theon never admitted outwardly, but he appreciated and found the boy's welcoming heartwarming and comforting as he was surrounded by whole new different people and in an unfamiliar place from his own.
2.
It was when Theon had just turned twelve that Robb Stark asked him 'that' question.
"Theon, what's a saltwife?"
Robb asked, flopping down on a stump next to Theon whilst he was fletching arrows.
"A saltwife is-"
The little child who was always tagging along Theon was now looking up at Theon's face with bright shining eyes.
Theon cleared his throat and continued.
"In war, if you think someone's really pretty and want to keep them, you steal them and take them home with you. That's a saltwife."
Listening to Theon, Robb's mouth -a youth's lips, small and plump- turned into an 'O' like shape. Even after all those two years it was still hard for Theon to understand the Northerners' customs. They were so different from which those at his home, back in the Iron Islands. And him being a hostage here, Theon always received glances full of suspicions from people here, the people in the North. However, despite all that, the little lord of the Starks at times made Theon smile a small smile without him really realizing it - and this was one of those moments.
"Theon, are you my daddy's saltwife?"
...Until Robb said those words with that cute, round lips. He almost smiled that smile. Almost.
"NO."
3.
And for some while after that incident, Robb followed Theon everywhere and said:
"Theon, I'll make you my saltwife!"
"Robb!"
Theon, with red colours in his face, called the boy's name.
"Theon?"
"Robb, you don't say such things."
"Why? Why not...? I think Theon's really pretty..."
"Robb!"
"You said so! If you find someone's really pretty and want to keep them- then take, make them your saltwife."
"......"
Robb retorted with those pretty pouty lips and now Theon buried his face in his hand.
His cheek felt like a burning coal on the palm.
4.
Still after that day, Robb never ceased to say out loud that he would make Theon his saltwife. Maester Luwin's white eyebrows went downwards funnily everytime he heard Robb's speaking of Theon the saltwife stuff. People at Winterfell all made funny faces when they heard it, too, knowing fully what that so notorious Iron Island's tradition of saltwives. And that made Theon's cheeks burn like so much not only from embarrassment caused by childish teasing, but also from something similar to rage - he couldn't really name it down, though.
That was probably the reason why Theon lashed out and threw a snark remark to the small red headed boy who was following Theon to the armoury.
"You cannot take me as a saltwife!"
"Theon?"
Robb closed his mouth and stared at Theon with wide eyes, certainly startled with Theon's unusual, sharp tone towards him.
"A saltwife-, I'm not a woman, Robb."
"Doesn't matter. I think Theon's pretty no matter what - be a girl or a boy."
"That's not it!"
Theon's lips thinned. He turned his back on Roob and resumed his walking.
Robb shouted at Theon's back.
"Theon's mine. You're my saltwife!"
"I am not your saltwife, Robb. Stop being silly and go back to your room."
Now Theon said through his grit teeth and realizing the now lower voice of Theon, Robb's changed its tone as well. It was no longer a voice of an eight year old child, of a young boy, but of one that belongs to the future lord of Winterfell. Solemn. Serious.
"You are my saltwife, Theon."
To that, Theon spun around swiftly, like an arrow that left its home.
"You're not an Ironborn!"
"......"
It seemed Robb was going to say something more, but then it didn't happen. The boy shut his mouth and now some emotions, something akin to sorrow flashed across his face. This confused Theon greatly and at the same moment he felt something unfathomable burgeoning in his heart. -And why? How come? Shouldn't have it been Theon that must hurt with and from those words, not Robb? Theon was a stranger. Here at Winterfell. He was Ironborn, was born in somewhere leagues away from here, but now he was at a big and cold castle. And this was not his home. He was a kraken who should've been feeling, inhaling salty wind from the sea and swimming against strong currents of the deep ocean, but instead was captured and caged up in this cold, unfamiliar northen land. He was alone, all alone - even though and despite the warm, brotherly affections from this little boy in front of his eyes...
You're not an Ironborn. You cannot take nor have a saltwife. You're a Northerner. You are a Stark. You are a wolf.
...We are different. You and I are different.
The end.
Also, this is the first English work I wrote, so it bounds to be much flawed.
I started this from the kinkmeme 'Theon, what's a saltwife?' I drew the cartoon first, then shortly after wrote this. The original meme and the cartoon were to be silly and cracky, but somehow this writing headed to the opposite direction. I guess I wanted to make it bittersweet? I might and want to try a few different storylines based on the saltwife meme thing, but as my English is much limited, I'm doubtful.
Anyways, for now this is all I've got.
--
1.
He, the only living son of Balon Greyjoy, was ten years old when he first arrived at Winterfell. Robb Stark, the eldest son of the house Stark was four years junior to him. The young six year old boy greeted Theon with an innocent, angel like smile on his face. Theon never admitted outwardly, but he appreciated and found the boy's welcoming heartwarming and comforting as he was surrounded by whole new different people and in an unfamiliar place from his own.
2.
It was when Theon had just turned twelve that Robb Stark asked him 'that' question.
"Theon, what's a saltwife?"
Robb asked, flopping down on a stump next to Theon whilst he was fletching arrows.
"A saltwife is-"
The little child who was always tagging along Theon was now looking up at Theon's face with bright shining eyes.
Theon cleared his throat and continued.
"In war, if you think someone's really pretty and want to keep them, you steal them and take them home with you. That's a saltwife."
Listening to Theon, Robb's mouth -a youth's lips, small and plump- turned into an 'O' like shape. Even after all those two years it was still hard for Theon to understand the Northerners' customs. They were so different from which those at his home, back in the Iron Islands. And him being a hostage here, Theon always received glances full of suspicions from people here, the people in the North. However, despite all that, the little lord of the Starks at times made Theon smile a small smile without him really realizing it - and this was one of those moments.
"Theon, are you my daddy's saltwife?"
...Until Robb said those words with that cute, round lips. He almost smiled that smile. Almost.
"NO."
3.
And for some while after that incident, Robb followed Theon everywhere and said:
"Theon, I'll make you my saltwife!"
"Robb!"
Theon, with red colours in his face, called the boy's name.
"Theon?"
"Robb, you don't say such things."
"Why? Why not...? I think Theon's really pretty..."
"Robb!"
"You said so! If you find someone's really pretty and want to keep them- then take, make them your saltwife."
"......"
Robb retorted with those pretty pouty lips and now Theon buried his face in his hand.
His cheek felt like a burning coal on the palm.
4.
Still after that day, Robb never ceased to say out loud that he would make Theon his saltwife. Maester Luwin's white eyebrows went downwards funnily everytime he heard Robb's speaking of Theon the saltwife stuff. People at Winterfell all made funny faces when they heard it, too, knowing fully what that so notorious Iron Island's tradition of saltwives. And that made Theon's cheeks burn like so much not only from embarrassment caused by childish teasing, but also from something similar to rage - he couldn't really name it down, though.
That was probably the reason why Theon lashed out and threw a snark remark to the small red headed boy who was following Theon to the armoury.
"You cannot take me as a saltwife!"
"Theon?"
Robb closed his mouth and stared at Theon with wide eyes, certainly startled with Theon's unusual, sharp tone towards him.
"A saltwife-, I'm not a woman, Robb."
"Doesn't matter. I think Theon's pretty no matter what - be a girl or a boy."
"That's not it!"
Theon's lips thinned. He turned his back on Roob and resumed his walking.
Robb shouted at Theon's back.
"Theon's mine. You're my saltwife!"
"I am not your saltwife, Robb. Stop being silly and go back to your room."
Now Theon said through his grit teeth and realizing the now lower voice of Theon, Robb's changed its tone as well. It was no longer a voice of an eight year old child, of a young boy, but of one that belongs to the future lord of Winterfell. Solemn. Serious.
"You are my saltwife, Theon."
To that, Theon spun around swiftly, like an arrow that left its home.
"You're not an Ironborn!"
"......"
It seemed Robb was going to say something more, but then it didn't happen. The boy shut his mouth and now some emotions, something akin to sorrow flashed across his face. This confused Theon greatly and at the same moment he felt something unfathomable burgeoning in his heart. -And why? How come? Shouldn't have it been Theon that must hurt with and from those words, not Robb? Theon was a stranger. Here at Winterfell. He was Ironborn, was born in somewhere leagues away from here, but now he was at a big and cold castle. And this was not his home. He was a kraken who should've been feeling, inhaling salty wind from the sea and swimming against strong currents of the deep ocean, but instead was captured and caged up in this cold, unfamiliar northen land. He was alone, all alone - even though and despite the warm, brotherly affections from this little boy in front of his eyes...
You're not an Ironborn. You cannot take nor have a saltwife. You're a Northerner. You are a Stark. You are a wolf.
...We are different. You and I are different.
The end.
