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Law Onto Himself

Chapter Text

Theon had a problem.

Really, Theon had many problems, not the least being that Balon was refusing to pay his law fees and the last thing Theon needed was trying to pick up extra hours at the Winterfell, his almost-family’s inn. In fact, it was his almost family more than his flesh and blood that was bothering him. More specifically, Robb Stark.

He had always distantly been aware that Robb was beautiful. He had played wingman often enough, able to charm ladies from all over the continent with tales of luscious red curls or soulful blue eyes. Still, the english major hadn’t really been on his radar until his recent catastrophic break-up with Roslin Frey. Catelyn Stark had doted on the little weasel more then Theon and Robbs other almost brother, Jon, put together. You could see the future marraige written in her wistful glances and soft smiles every time her son was in the same room as the Frey. Of course, when it turns out she was only in it because she wanted her fathers chain of dingy hotels to acquire the Winterfell property, it was hastily broken off.

Unfortunately, Robb managed to get his heart broken in the process. As Theon comforted his best friend, he preached about how Robb deserved better. After all, the ginger was kind, passionate, had a fantastic flair for english, was good with animals, unbelievable at sports, and somehow managed to remain almost entirely down to earth. At some point during that monologue, Robb had perked up, and at the sight of that half hidden dimpled smile, Theons mood plummeted.

He had a massive crush on Robb Stark.

The law student crashed onto his creaking bad that evening, letting loose a long groan as it sank in. The noise summoned Lyanna Mormont, the only other Northerner currently slumming it up in their dingy little corner of paradise. She took one look at him, and began to laugh.

“Oi!” Theon chucked one of their pathetic cushions at the government majors head, but she didn’t even have the good grace to stop laughing as she ducked.

“Don’t mind me. Just thinking of all the money Danny and Jaime owe me. Neither of them reckoned you’d figure it out before graduation.” She shook her head, leaning up against the wall and stifling the last of her laughter at Theons miffed expression.

“Has half the campus been betting about my love life, then?” said Theon, in a tone that was absolutely not whinging, thank you very much. “Oh no, more than that. Probably almost all of it except Robb himself, at this point. Even Professor Seaworth slipped me some pocket change. I did buy something for you with it, though.” The scholarship girl ducked out of the room. She came back with a bottle of rum in her hand, and sat down beside Theon to the bed springs loud protest.

“So, what do you plan on doing about it?”


So began the most hairbrained scheme of campus history, sure to be told and retold as part of the lore till the end of time. Very few people would say no to Lyanna Mormont, and those that would would be sure to reconsider when sweet Sansa Stark followed closely behind. By the end of the month, somehow, they had a full cast of prepared jurors for the trial of the century: Theon Greyjoy vs Robb Stark.

Professor Baratheon, due to a little bit of careful cajoling by Professor Seaworth, gave them access to the campus courtroom. Daenerys Targaryen had turned up the first day with her own gavel, and appointed herself judge. Lyanna had decided to represent Theon, with a strict “shut up” at the mans weak insistence that he could do it himself. On the opposite bench, Brienne had somehow convinced that pompous boyfriend of hers, Jaime Lannister, to sit in as the prosecution. Technically, he had only taken one law class as part of his business degree, but as Lyanna had taken none, they were on equal footing. Brienne herself had decided to act as some sort of bailiff, foreseeing the inevitable fight.

Their jurors represented all walks of life that were reasonably assured to show up- Margaery and Loras Tyrell, plus his boyfriend Renly Baratheon, for the inclusion of some popular people. Elia Martell, much like her favourite in-law, had simply turned up and refused to leave the jury box, citing her membership on behalf of the Dornish. Jaime tried to object, especially after Rhaegar was struck from the voting list for being “a bit of a crazy stoner, uncle, and also rather rude to Lia”, but she remained. Benjen Stark claimed to represent the staff, but realistically, he was here as the resident Stark. Tyrion and Mya Stone turned up, to represent the underdogs who would never hear such good gossip without a presence. Finally, with the addition of exchange student Ygritte Giantsbane, who wanted to see what all the fuss was about with Westerosi legal systems, they were ready to begin.

Chapter Text

At a nod from Brienne, Daenerys banged her gavel on the desk. A small dent appeared in her trestle table. She called for order, and when Renly Baratheon continued his unfortunately accurate impersonation of her, narrowed her eyes. “So begins the case of Theon Greyjoy versus... Robb Starks sexuality?” The dragon looked to the two lawyers, who shrugged. “Disturbing this court is considered treason. If you decide to commit treason, I’ll feed you to my dogs.” The room stilled, and Brienne leaned over to whisper again. Daenerys sighed. “I mean, make you clean up after them. Of course. Lyanna, opening statement?” The dragon surrendered the stack of boxes they were using as a podium to the northerner. She was wearing a very fancy, professional looking suit, which was absolutely ruined by the King in the North band t-shirt underneath. She hopped up on the stool they had ready, and began.

“Welcome, everyone we could get to turn up. Today, in this- I suppose it’s a hallowed hall, we will prove that Theon and Robb have been madly and obliviously in love for long enough that a crowd turned up to watch this unfold.” Somehow, her manner of fact tone mortified Theon more than if she showed how much she was enjoying herself. “Everyone in this room knows the truth. These two have been hopeless for too long. If we win, we’ll force the prat to ask Robb out.” Theon turned the colour of Robbs hair as he tried to sink beneath the desk and the cheers of the assembled watchers, but then it was Jaimes turn.

“Firstly, I think your speech might count as bias. Can someone with a full law degree check that?” He looked over at the assembled jury, where Tyrion nodded. Jaimes smile turned irritatingly knowing as he continued. “Secondly: really? Robb Stark? If he isn’t as straight as an arrow, at the very least, he’s too oblivious for the bear to prove anything,” he kept going, ignoring the murmuring from the jurors. “Easy win for me and my... client.”

As one, the room looked at the fold up chair beside Jaime. Someone had sat one of the Stark direwolves on it that morning- Sansa, judging by the fact that it was still there- and a sign on the table proclaimed it to be as good as they were getting as it came to Robb. Junior Bailiff Payne was busy distracting him across campus, and everyone agreed this should be kept away from his knowledge. Not that that was hard. Daenerys banged her gavel again, and looked to Lyanna. “Who is your first witness?”

Lyanna stood up again, and gestured to the row behind a curtain. (To preserve anonymity, said Margaery, for as long as we can. For dramatic effect, agreed everyone else.) “The defense calls Yara Greyjoy.”

When Yara stood up, Theon nearly fell out of his chair. His sister was meant to be off, piloting around the world with dubious legality. Had she seriously flown back to embarrass her brother? Yes. Yes she had.

“They say a mother always knows? Pile o’ piss. Our mother doesn’t know shit about Theon. I can tell you I always knew, though.” Yara had been sworn in on a DVD copy of the pirates of the Caribbean, which she claimed to be close enough to her bible. Daenerys had ruled it good enough, over Brienne and Jaimes protests. “He chased skirts like i chased selkies. Never expected to catch one, and not really sure what to do if he did. I remember, when he was a little-“

“Objection!” yelped Jaime, who had just been kicked in the shin by a ruby red Theon. “As much as I enjoy torturing the poor kraken, what on earth does this have to do with Robb Stark?”

Yara rolled her eyes. “Someone’s in a bit of a rush. To get to a good finish, you need to work your way there, don’t you?” She smirked at Lyanna as she said it, before going on. “Anyway, hasn’t he been half living with the little wolf since we were both baby fish? Bet the cute ginger over there’s seen more of him than I have.” She nodded to Sansa, who had a significantly more obvious reaction than Lyanna; she went brick red. Lyanna, unphased, turned to the resident Targaryen.

“Your honor, I would like to enter into evidence pictures of Robb Stark and Theon Greyjoy’s shared bedroom. Note the two small beds- hardly big enough for either of them alone, ay?” She winked at Theon, who hissed like a balloon that was surrounded by little traitorous needles. Jaime raised a hand. “Can I object? Sounds like she’s suggesting they’re screwing, when they could be just sleeping in the same room on uncomfortable twin beds for fun. In theory.” When Theon shot him an irritated look for his lacklustre defense, Jaime shrugged. There wasn’t really much to be done to defend that. The jury noticed too, murmuring. Daenerys banged her gavel again, this time hard enough to really damage professor Seaworths table. The next witness, as it happened, was a drinking buddy of both Theon and Robbs: Oberyn Martell.

Oberyn swore himself in on a bottle of tequila. Jaime put his head in his hand, but didn’t protest. The Dornish prince clicked his tongue, when asked what he knew about the pair, and then continued. “I have never, in all my years, seen two so clueless. That includes Jon Connington and the Silver Prince. You can’t blame it all on them, of course- you northerners are all too cold. In Dorne, they’d be free to discuss how beautifully grey the others eyes were to the other, not your poor drinking buddy.” He raised his bottle to Theon. “All the bars in the city will weep when you two get drunk in your own home, not in my arms. And all the students you’ve forced to listen to you will cheer.” He breezed out as suddenly as he entered, as Theon frantically wondered why someone had been describing beautiful grey eyes to Oberyn. Robbs eyes were blue.

The next several witnesses went in a similar way. Bronn was more than willing to describe Theon getting drunk and clingy, or Robb asking for a very specific type of ironborn looking girl in The Mockingjay. Bran, the little traitor, declared to hearing them mumble each other’s names in their sleep. And that the trees saw it coming, but that was just his way of giving a blessing. Hopefully. It was the final witness that truly annoyed Theon.

“The defence calls to the stand- Sansa Stark!” with a final squeeze of her girlfriends hand, Sansa glided serenely to the box. She diligently ignored Theons glare as she swore by Lady’s mane, (the fake Robb having gotten bored of the treats some time earlier,) to only tell the truth. She looked directly at Theon as she spoke.

“Those two have been pining for as long as I’ve known the word. He never looked at Roslin like he did you, or Talisa, or Alys or Gwyn or anyone. And Theon, I’ve never seen you look at anyone else at all. You’re my brother in all but name,” she said softly, with a twinkle in her eye, “and I wouldn’t mind you taking that either. In awhile.” By this point, even a thoroughly defeated Jaime cooed at the sweetness. Although he would claim to have simply sighed, later.

“Well,” said Daenerys, “if no one has anything to add, I suppose we can let the jury-“ suddenly, the doors slammed open. Light streamed in from the corridor, and silhouetted in its centre stood Robb Stark. His hair was like fire made flesh as he stalked down the aisle. “I object!” He yelled, grabbing Theon by the wrist and pulling him towards the centre.

“What is this, Theon?” His voice was calmer now. More like smooth honey than the jagged confusion it had been.

Theon blushed once more. “A trial?” He squeaked out.

Robb laughed. “Of you? Of us?” Theon went to glare at poor Podrick Payne, who had evidently failed to keep Robb away from the courtroom, but Robb tilted his chin back so they were looking eye to eye. Shy grey met determined blue. “Oh, Theon,” he whispered, “all you had to do was ask.”

Their first kiss was sweet, and short. Practically vanilla, by anyone’s standards, but more than enough for the two overwhelmed northerners. In the background, money changed hands. Ygritte Giantsbane snapped the picture that would later grace the front of the school newspaper and (begrudgingly) Catelyn Starks Christmas cards. Jaime went to mourn his defeat with his girlfriend, and Daenerys’ attempt to regain order by smacking her gavel through the table was ignored.

Lyanna Mormont and Sansa Stark grinned at eachother as the two boys broke apart to wolf whistles they barely heard. Not bad, for the least logical law hearing Westeros had ever known.