Jon Snow rubbed the tips of his fingers over the stubble on his chin, the tuffs on the tips of his black hair, like his father. He wore a wolf-skin cloak, with baggy trousers made of cotton as to be easily disposed of. Robb stood in the doorway, mumbling under his breath at Theon's tardiness.
"He'll face your mother's wrath if he's late, he won't like that" Jon said. Robb chuckled. The barber, father's personal trimmer, was sharper a small knife with a rock he'd found in the garden.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor, as a flushed Theon stepped into the room.
"Ros wouldn't leave until I paid her" his clothes were ragged; barely fastened to his muscled chest and arms.
"You fuck her too much" Robb told him "mind lending her to Jon? He hasn't had a woman yet. If you but your little member into her too much it'll tire her out too much"
"Oh, Mister Righteous are you?" Theon scorned "there's too much of your father in you" he chuckled.
"Right, who's going first?" the barber asked. He had thinning brown hair and a hairless face. His white shirt was pulled above his elbows, arm hair thick on his beefy arms. Theon removed his shirt first, revealing his toned, muscled arms and erect nipples. He lumped himself onto the stool, as his neck was groped by the barber. If only he would slit his stupid throat.
Knowing that there was no point in waiting, Jon and Robb removed their tops in unison. Jon was more muscled than Robb, as he fought with Ser Rodrik more. Jon had no claim to Winterfell, and so he trained day and night for the knighthood he so desired.
"Look at you two lovebirds" Theon smirked as the barber hacked away at his hair.
"Shut up, Greyjoy" Jon glared at his laughing face. Theon glared back, shrugging the fallen hair from his shoulders. Jon glanced down at Theon's trousers, noticing a small bulge covered by breeches and peasant trousers.
"Next" the barber called, pushing Theon off the stool. Robb took a seat, crossed his arms and sat amiably as the barber removed his forming goatee. Theon wiped the dead hairs from his chest and shoulders, and retrieved the shirt he was wearing before, but discarded it again.
"Why haven't you had a woman, Snow?" Theon asked. Jon turned slowly to face the heir to Pyke. He was walking slowly towards him, eying his chest and fluffy hair.
"You don't know the pain of being a bastard, Greyjoy" Jon smiled.
"Aye, but I do know what it's like to lose both my brothers"
"If you murder Robb, Bran and Rickon; your head will be off your shoulders and left for crow meat before Father could even call for Ice. He'll rip it off with his bare hands, Greyjoy"
"I am Lord Stark's ward"
"He can get a new one"
"Would you two love birds get a room?" Robb chuckled behind them as he shrugged hair off his shoulders and onto the wooden floor. He beckoned Jon to sit "be careful with his hair. There's nothing he loves more than his hair" Robb chuckled.
Jon sat quickly before his head was yanked back by the barber. The knife felt cold against his naked neck skin, as stubble fell like ants from an ant hill avalanche; tensing as he seemingly ripped the hair from its roots like weeds from a plant. Theon chuckled at Robb's remark.
YOU DECIDE!
WILL YOU FOLLOW-
JON?
ROBB?
OR THEON?
DISCLAIMER: ONCE YOU CHOOSE A 'BRANCH', DO NOT STRAY INTO OTHER STORIES!
OR ELSE!
ENJOY!