you could taste heaven perfectly; [OTA]

[king_in_the_north]

WHO: Robb Stark
WHERE: The field
WHEN: October 12, morning
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: n/a
STATUS: Closed to new threads

---

There had come a point approximately three days ago when Robb had legitimately begun to wonder whether the rain was ever going to cease. Never in all of his life had he ever even heard of such rain, from dawn to dusk and all through the night, an unending torrent that kept the skies murky gray and made the days smudge disconcertingly into one another.

When he'd woken today, something had felt off -- Just a bit to the left of where it ought to be. It had taken several drowsy minutes of laying in his bed, listening to the earnest warbles of the early birds to realize that the strangeness was that the rain had stopped. He'd almost not believed it, had felt certain he'd step outside and find the shower was simply lighter than before, but there was nothing but an early-morning mist rambling across the lawn and the first soft rays of sunlight smearing over the broken clouds.

And gods, it was practically blissful to step down onto the front walk and stay dry. It didn't even bother him that there was now so much to do, so much time to be made up as hastily as possible. The serendipitous feeling wouldn't hold, he understood that well enough, but he might as well throw himself into what needed to be done while it lasted. Winter was coming.

He'd still not grown relaxed enough to work without a shirt on, but he was down to his sleeveless undershirt today, the white long ago turned to gray and now streaked with dirt as he applied himself to working amongst the beans in the humid mud of the field. It was early yet, but he had a feeling that the small group of them out there would quickly grow once the sun was properly up.

Comments

[tooktheblack]

"You're his true-born son. You're as much like him as I am. I am only so much like him because I have spent my entire life trying to be what you are naturally," Jon pointed out.

It was something he had never voiced aloud, exactly, but it was true: Jon wanted to be what Robb was simply by nature of his birth. He was envious, yes, but he never wanted to take from Robb to have for himself. He still wanted Robb to have everything alongside him.

[king_in_the_north]

Jon's logic was hopelessly flawed, Robb thought, particularly now, with their father dead and Robb not long after him, and Jon the only one left to defend Winterfell, their house, the North. Robb hadn't earned either of his titles, even if he had endeavored to be worthy of them, yet Jon and fought his way into both of his with little else to recommend him but his damnable tenacity.

Yet it was the name, Robb realized now, perhaps more fully than ever before. The name was the sticking point despite it all. And little to be done about it.

He shook his head with a soft smile. "I reckon it's reassuring to know you're still bloody rubbish at taking a compliment."

[tooktheblack]

"Compliments don't win wars or sit thrones," Jon pointed out. It was a horrifically dour thing to say, worthy of Edd or someone else at the Wall, but it was also true. Jon hadn't won against Ramsay Bolton because someone paid him pretty words. He'd won using his sword and his wit. He'd also won because of Sansa, because of her refusal to take no for an answer. That was a secret he'd keep for the good of them all.

"I suppose we would know that better than most. I never thought you let winning those battles in the south go to your head the way the gossip wanted me to think it did."

[king_in_the_north]

"They might not, but that doesn't make them worthless, Jon," Robb replied as he stared back at him. "It's a bit like giving a gift, you know. It smarts when the other person tosses it aside, particularly when they're sincerely given. It isn't the easiest thing to admit, that you're likely the better son. Just take the damned compliment."

Gods, but he didn't want to think about the South, or the battles, or all the ways he'd failed to measure up that Jon really couldn't fathom. They both of them had their regrets; the difference was that Jon couldn't help his.

[tooktheblack]

"I'm not the better son," Jon said, shaking his head. "You're the better son. You're the one with the name and the claim. I just have the sword and the shield to back you up. That's how it's always been and that's how it always should have been. It's never going to change."

Jon wished he'd have gone south with him, honestly, and had kept him safe. Perhaps he could have seen the Frey plot and kept his family from dying; perhaps he could have prevented it.

[king_in_the_north]

Robb dropped his head with a noise of frustration. Apparently what also was never going to change was the Stark stubbornness, which Jon clearly had more than enough of to be worthy of the name.

"Do you know what?" Robb said at length, and lifted his head with a faint, resigned smile. "Neither of us are the better son. Obviously that title went to Bran. Although I can legitimize you right here in the mud if you'd like, if it'll stop you going on about how you're not a proper Stark. Technically you could legitimize yourself, Your Grace, but that might be a bit awkward with the reaching around to pat your own shoulder."

[tooktheblack]

"Legitimized or not, if you were around, you'd be the king," Jon pointed out. It was a stupid thing to argue about, to be certain, but this was a wound that had festered since childhood, a poison that had flowed in his veins based on comments from Lady Catelyn, from his own insecurities. Being granted a crown on a battlefield wouldn't change it.

"None of us are kings here, though. You're a farmer and I'm a hunter. I don't know what Lady Margaery fancies herself to be. A shepherd?"