So .... My first fanfiction I've ever written 🙈
Hope someone like it :) I'd love to hear some feedback :)
...Almost forgot: Triggerwarning :
Don't read if you have problems with su**** thoughts or with soldier /war or trauma/ tourge (Not in this capter but coming)
How could he ever have told anyone what he had done?
Of course, he could hide behind the fact that he had been forced, that his spirit had been broken before.But what would that change about the things he had done with his own hands?
Nothing would change the cruelty and the suffering.
What would they all think of him?
Would the disgust be greater than their affection for him?
Shakily, the slender fingers of the eldest of the Stark sons brought the cigarette to his lips, where he sucked in the deadly nicotine deeply, trying to feel the relaxing effect with his eyes closed... closing his eyes, even now when he was not asleep, had become one of the hardest things to do in his life. Slowly the feeling of confinement and stench came back up in him and Robb opened his eyelids quickly, accepting the burning of the smoke rather than the images that forced themselves upon him each time.
He leaned against the cold stone wall at his back, his eyes fixed on the silence of the night ahead. The hotel he was in, and especially from the balcony he was standing on, had a beautiful view as it was higher than the city itself. The tangle of buildings where he had grown up, played with friends, gone to school, met Theon and had countless adventures with him, they had become the best of friends, even today... and they probably always would be.
Robb had always believed he would live here forever. Like his parents growing old here - watching his siblings grow up - he was sure Sansa would move away, away from here and to the sea... to where it was sunnier in so many ways.
Likewise Arja - she wanted to see the world, always had, and he knew she would - perhaps she would follow John before finding her own ways?
His youngest brothers had their whole lives ahead of them and everything was open to them.... it was far too early to worry about what path they would take here - he just knew they would have a good life and do what was right for them.
His parents would probably live here until the end - content, happy and in well-deserved peace.
Robb was sorry that he had disappointed his father so much, as he had chosen his path, followed in his footsteps and joined the military. But he had come back injured, so vitaly he was not the same and could never be again. He wished there was another way, a way back, but there wasn't and after much thought, he had found the best way forward he could do.
They would all cope - even Theon Grejoy, even he would be able to cope and continue on the path he had begun to go down a while ago - he had the strength to stand his ground and not give up the fight and face the demons....
A smirk flitted across the young man's lips - who would have thought that one day he would be envious of Theon? Of his strength and how he could cope with all the suffering....
Robb thought of the room behind him, which lay in darkness - Of the small bag he had come with, the towels from home he had taken out of the bag and spread on the bed - Of the letters to his family and friends he had long since written, which now lay on the small table in the room. Each envelope bore a name. Then he thought of the cold iron lying on the bed,... the cartridge lying next to it, waiting for him to insert it and the cool barrel he would soon taste...
The brunette with the short curls would not rush. He would savour the moment to the fullest, after all, it was the very last time he would have a view. He was all the more grateful that it was so wonderful - shown in such peace and thus it immediately felt much lighter, more liberating in a strange way, as if the world wanted to say 'goodbye' to him... especially because he knew the moment had come to relive it all again, to finish it then. Stark knew he had to let it go once more, to see every second again, to feel it, and then finally find peace for himself....
The last time he pulled on his cigarette felt heavy and final. To him, it was such a momentous act in this situation - but to the rest of the world, it didn't matter at all, even if someone saw him now, that someone didn't know what it meant. Robb stubbed out the cigarette on the metal railing of the balcony, pushing himself off the wall.
He dropped the cigarette butt into the bin next to the balcony door inside the hotel room as he walked in now. A thousand times he had gone over the scene in his head, but it was different now to actually do it, to actually be here - it felt very different from his imagination.
The sparse light from outside played around the outlines of the standardised room furnishings, helping him find his way inside. His eyes fell on the reflection of the gun on the bed. But his path led him first to the small desk on the opposite wall to bed. His fingers slid over the envelopes that lay there as he reread the curved writings to see that everyone really was there - Caytleyn, Ned, Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon, John and Theon. Of course he knew more people, but there weren't any more he wanted to say anything to, or rather leave anything for them...
Then he turned around to the bed. He moved to the side, sat on the edge so that he could continue to see the night and the clear sky out of the wide window.
His breathing was slow and little by little he closed his eyes now, letting the memories take over as he sat very still on the unused bed....
The soldier felt the warmth of his memory begin to reach him, the heat of the sun of that time. He could feel the wind, which did not cool but stirred up the sand around him and his squad each time - Robb could taste the sand - he heard his name, spun around and the next moment there was a loud bang and he fell, stumbling over one of his comrades who had been thrown at his feet by the nearby explosion...
--- End of Chapter One ---
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