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━━ . ⋆ ★˙ ° /
ROBB STARK remembers that day very clearly as if it happened yesterday. He remembers the way his six-year-old twin knocked on his door late at night frantically —and how she flung herself into his arms as soon as he opened it. The way her whole body shook as hot tears poured down her cheeks, and how she sobbed into the hollow of his neck and shoulder as she held on to him tightly, desperately, like she is afraid if she let go, then he would disappear forever.
Robb didn't know what could have such an effect on Leyla until this very minute —she wouldn't say no matter what. It had been Leyla, who used to comfort Robb and Jon —advised them to be courageous even when they came face-to-face with their greatest fears.
And so, seeing her in such a state, day after day —it broke him.
It was then Robb vowed to himself that he would do everything in his power to protect his sister. And so, even if he couldn't keep her nightmares at bay, he decided he could shield her from the physical dangers. Something Robb knew quite well, that his twin would never approve. "I will fight my own battles, Robb," Leyla would say, time and time again, ruffling his hair and giving a kiss to his cheek whenever the younger version of himself proclaimed he would win wars in her name. "And if need be, I will fight yours too."
Still, it was for Leyla; Robb and Jon trained relentlessly. For the sister who helped them walk, talk, read, and write. For, she had been the one who understood them —who helped her brothers when time demanded it. While he, Jon, and Leyla were all of the same age, Leyla had always been the mature one of the three, more intelligent, and both Jon and he had long adapted to following her lead in most matters.
"You really need to get a haircut," a very familiar voice said from behind. Robb turned around to see Leyla standing there with a smile. His grip on his wooden sword was slick with sweat after the drill he competed in minutes ago, but he paid it no heed as he thrust it through his belt.
Leyla was dressed in blue velvets trimmed with white, a silver chain hung around her neck. Robb beamed at her while Jon, who had been beside him the whole time, greeted her with a grin, "Leyla."
"You both would look even more handsome if you are clean-shaved," Leyla continued as she stepped forward and reached over to lightly tug at their wild curls absently for a moment before releasing it with a sigh. She then peaked behind them, "Don't think I forgot about you, Theon," she said, narrowing her eyes at the Grejoy heir who had been seated on the sill, one leg drawn up languidly to his chin.
Theon scoffed. "I am not cutting my hair," Theon said with the resolution, shaking his head. "It's part of my charm."
Jon and Robb scoffed at that, while Leyla just shook her head at Kraken heir. "How was the practice? I heard from Jory that Ser Rodrik had been a little hard on you recently."
