#robb stark x frey girl

[bellarkeselection]

[axelsagewrites]

Robb Stark*Frey Girl

Pairing: Robb x F!Frey!Reader

Warnings: Angry Catelyn angst, smut (f receiving oral, loss of virginity, p in v sex, that kinda thing) 18+

Summary: When the war is done Robb can finally enjoy alone time with his queen

Word count: 4127

Requested

A/N: This is basically 2 smuts in one but I didn’t wanna turn this into 3 parts so here’s one long one for yous all.

You don’t need to read part one but for context if not Robb marries a Frey girl and takes her to war with him.

Also alt timeline where Robb wins the war and goes back to the independent North

Masterlist Here

Part one Here

Robb had meant what he said on your wedding day. You joined him and his men on their journey and he brought you to all his council meetings much to his men’s and mother’s dismay. No one believed a word out of your mouth either because you were a woman or a Frey. However, Robb did not listen to their pleads to set you aside and continued to take your counsel. The men hated you for that.

That was until they won their next battle, following your plans, and crushing Tywin’s forces. It was apparent they had been waiting for Robb and his men when the Starks were easily able to flank them from the side and back, effectively trapping them in their slaughter. After that his advisors wouldn’t hold a meeting without you. Catelyn’s heart began to soften to you the longer her son survived but there was still a stale bitter air from her whenever you were present.

“She doesn’t like me,” you said as you lay on your bed in Robb and yours tent. He sighed and got up from his table, hands running through his hair, “I don’t mind that she doesn’t, but you can’t lie and say she does,”

“She doesn’t know you,” he said.

“Or like me,” you chirped, rolling over to sit on the bed facing him, “I don’t get why this upsets you more than me,”

Robb sighed as he sat beside you on the bed, his arm resting behind your back so you could lean on him, “Because I want her to like you! Like I do. Well not quite the same I suppose but still,” he said.

“I want her to like me too,” you said as you took his hand to hold, “but it’s hardly something we can rush. This is my war,” you said, and Robb’s eyes squinted in confusion, “Men go off and fight in battles with swords. Us women fight our war with words. For all your mother knows I’ve secured you and was sent to trick you,”

“My mother doesn’t think you seduced me,” Robb said, and you laughed in response causing a smirk to fall on Robb’s lips, “Or did you?” he asked as he grabbed your hips, pulling you into his lap.

You laughed at the sudden movement, but it was silenced by Robb placing his lips on yours. In all the time you had been at war you had yet to bed your husband, but you had been intimate in other ways so the taste of his lips was nothing new but still as intoxicating as before. “Maybe I did,” you grinned, bringing your hands to rest on his chest, your hips lightly grinding into his as you made yourself comfortable on his lap, “Are you complaining?”

Robb hummed as his hands fell from your hips to your ass, squeezing as they did, “I’m not sure. Do you think its wise to seduce your king?” he asked as he smirked.

You matched his smirk with your own as you began to place kisses to his jaw, “Only when they look like you your grace,” an airy laugh left his lips, but it stopped when you grinded against his lap again, this time feeling something twitch in his trousers. “Unless you’d prefer me to stop,” you said, removing your lips from his skin.

Robb’s fingers dug into your ass as he pulled you closer, grinding against you as he did, “Who said you were allowed to stop?” he asked as he began trailing his own kisses down your neck, stopping at your collarbone to nip it with his teeth before soothing it with his lips. You gasped at the feeling, grinding your hips into his again. his hands went to your hips to hold them steady as he brought his up to grind against you.

You pushed his chest, dethatching his lips from your skin, and causing him to fall back onto the bed. You knew he had only let you push him, however. You crawled to be on top of him, your lips going to his.

By now you had learned what he liked and brought your fingers to tangle in his curls causing moans to fall from his lips as he continued to grind his hips against you. His hands squeezed your hips tighter. His lips fit perfectly against yours and his teeth began to nip at your bottom lip begging for entrance which you quickly granted. The kiss was slow and tender, but you grew hungry for more. Weeks of making out and grinding but nothing more had left you feeling desperate for your husband’s touch.

As your hips grinded against his you felt his cock harden underneath you, threatening to break free. The feeling of his cock against you made you moan into the kiss. Robb’s hands went up to your waist, gripping it, and pushing you off of him to climb on top of you. He pulled out the kiss, his breath falling heavy against your skin, “Tell me what you want,” he asked as he began to leave sloppy kisses to your neck.

You moaned under his touch, “I want you inside of me,” you confessed.

Robb stopped his assault on your neck, moving to look you in your eyes, “Are you sure love? We don’t have to,” his hand trailed along your arm, moving down to hold your hand.

You smiled at your husband, ever honourable and noble, you had never expected to have to wait this long and you could only imagine he was as desperate as you, “I am. I want this. I want you,” you told him, your hand resting on his jaw.

Robb grinned down at you beneath him, “You have no idea how much I want you,” he confessed as he sat up, taking off his shirt and loosening his trousers, “I’ve dreamt of this every night,”

You giggled at his words as he undressed himself. “Help me with my dress?” you asked when he was finished and soon you were only in your shift which you decided to keep on. Despite knowing no one would dare enter the tent you were still aware of the number of men around you from the noises from outside the tent.

Robb laid you down on the bed, positioning himself above you, before placing a tender kiss on your lips. “If you want to stop, just tell me,” he said, and you nodded in response. Robb used one hand to keep him up and the other to grab his member, running it along your folds almost teasing you. You let out a moan at the feeling alone. When he pushed in you couldn’t stop the gasp. Robb paused but his tip remained inside you, “Are you okay love?” he asked, placing a kiss to your forehead, “Is it too much?”

You gripped onto his bicep, feeling how strong his muscle was compared to your grip, “Its just big,” you said, and Robb grinned at your words, “Just go slow,”

“Of course, my queen,” Robb said as he slowly began to push further inside of you with his eyes locked on yours. You held your gasp in this time as he began to stretch you until he was almost fully inside when he paused, “Let me know when you’re ready,” Robb said, and you nodded.

Your hand moved to his hair, pulling him down into a kiss which he gladly accepted. His lips began to devour yours as the burning sensation eased. Lust began to burn inside you as the feeling became more comfortable. You pulled away from his kiss, “You can move now,”

Robb nodded and slowly he did as you said. He began to slowly move his hips, thrusting in and out of you as the new sensation made your skin tingle. Robb’s eyes were screwed shut, soft moans falling from his lips from his movements. You began to feel more at ease with the thrusts and you craved more.

Breathy moans fell from your lips as your hands went to hold his shoulders, feeling how strong they were from all his training. “Robb please,” you gasped as he thrust into you again.

“Please what my queen?” he asked, opening his eyes but continuing his agonisingly slow pace.

You whined beneath him, “Go faster. Please. I can handle it,”

“Oh yeah?” Robb asked as he began to thrust his hips faster, “You think you can handle me?” he asked. You moaned at the new speed, moving your hips in an attempt to meet his. He held your hips down with his hand. “Lie still sweetheart,” he said as you moaned his name softly, “Fuck you’re so pretty when you do that,” he said as he began to thrust harder.

“Fuck,” you gasped as he began to hit new depths inside of you, “Please Robb fuck,” you gasped.

“Please what?” he asked as he gripped your hips tighter.

“Don’t stop,” you answered, your eyes screwing shut as an unfamiliar knot grew in your stomach, “Please don’t stop,”

Robb almost chuckled at your words, “I’m not done with you yet my queen,” he said as he leaned down to join your lips. The kiss was messy and sloppy as he continued his thrusts. Whenever the kiss broke you felt his hot heavy breath against your wet lips. Robb broke the kiss again, leaning his sweating forehead against yours, “I think I’m gonna,” he said, trailing off as he screwed his eyes shut.

Before you could respond someone outside the tent yelled Robbs name. “Don’t come in!” He yelled back, not stopping his pace, “Fuck I don’t think I can wait,” he whispered to you, unfazed by whoever was outside. In this moment he was your husband, not someone’s king.

“It’s okay,” you told him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. A guttural moan fell from his lips and suddenly all his movements stopped as his eyes screwed up tighter, his whole body going tense. You felt a new sensation in your cunt that was already wet from your actions but was now filled with his seed.

It was once you realised what had happened Robb basically collapsed on top of you, laying on you with ragged breathing. “I’m sorry love,” he said, and you cut him off by pressing your lips against his, almost shivering at his touch, “I’ll make it up to you I promise,”

Again, someone yelled his name from outside the tent. “I swear to fuck,” Robb whispered before turning his head to yell at the tents entrance, “I said go!” he yelled. As Robb began to move off of you the tent burst open. Robb scrambled to pull sheets on top of you both and your face went red when you realised who had burst in. “Mother?!” Robb said, his eyes wide as she closed the tent behind her storming in.

“We’re in a war and your advisors need you and your too busy bedding some woman “she began her rant, her face flushing red.

Robb sat up as you pulled the sheets closer to you, “She is my wife,” Robb said, his words spitting venom. “Isn’t this what I’m supposed to be doing?”

“You’re supposed to be making battle plans to win this wretched war!” she bellowed.

Robb straightened his posture and glared at his mother as you tried to avoid the crossfire beneath the sheets, “And what about after the war?” he asked, “I’ll need heirs surely. Is that not why kings have queens?” you felt your heart twinge at his words. Almost sensing your pain, Robb’s hand found yours under the sheets, “She is my queen. Your queen. You don’t have to like her, but I do,”

“Maybe I’d like her better if her father didn’t try and betray us!”

“And who was it that warned us of this?” Robb bellowed across the tent, his hand squeezing yours tighter, and even you were almost frightened of him in the moment. The movement outside the tent seemed to quiet as did the noise inside the tent. “You have no right to barge into my tent,” Robb said, his voice lowered.

“I am your mother,” Catelyn said, her voice low and shaky. “Does that mean nothing to you?”

“It means everything to me,” Robb said, “But so does she. And if you have an issue with it, I suggest you keep it to yourself,” A heavy silence hung over the tent which was only broke by the sound of Catelyn turning and storming out.

Robb sighed and flung himself back down onto the bed beside you. He raised his hand, still holding yours, and kissed the back of your hand. “That’s not how I wanted that to go,” he confessed.

You curled into your husband’s side and pressed a kiss to his clenched jaw, “It’s a good thing we have a lifetime to do it again,” Robb smiled at your words, “but for now,” you continued, “I think its best you talk to your mother,”

Robb sighed before turning his head to face you with a grin, “I hate how you’re always right,”

“You’re gonna hate it for a lifetime as well im afraid,” you smiled back at him, your nose scrunching as you did. Robb leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to your lips before you pushed him back gently, “Go. Before she starts another war,”

“Fine, fine,” Robb huffed as he climbed out of bed and began to dress, “but this is not over,” he said with grin, placing a kiss to your forehead before he left.

He was gone for a while and for many days after Catelyn avoided eye contact with you however eventually she slowly began to warm up to you. Every time Robb rode into battle it was just you and a few nonfighting men left so you had to talk eventually. Robb tried to leave Greywind with you for protection, but you insisted you were safe without him. Catelyn saw the way you spoke to her son before he rode to battle, how you leaned into his touch scared it would be your last, you reminded her of herself.

After so much time and so much loss the war was won. The seven kingdoms had become six and the North had its King back at Winterfell. A new monarch ruled in Kingslanding with an agreed understanding of your independence. Finally, you could ride back to your new home with Robb. It didn’t take long for the remaining Starks to follow and now everyone was safe at Winterfell.

It was Catelyn who suggested a second wedding to brighten the spirits of the North. You and Robb had a second wedding in the Gods wood to have your marriage recognised by the old Gods, Greywind still by your side. The celebration lasted days and was also celebrating the Norths independence amongst everything else.

Between the war and the celebrations, you had been so busy you had hardly saw Robb. After the weeklong celebration was over and most Lords had returned with their people to their castles or holdings you hoped you would finally have time with him.

The sky was dark and the only men in the castle were guards on night watch who bowed as you passed them. The queen in the north. Off to find her king with a direwolf by her side. You knew where he would be. You entered the newly assembled throne room with Greywind walking beside you and smiled when you noticed Robb sat on Winterfell’s new throne, with one of equal size beside it for you. He had insisted a smaller one was an insult to you, and no one argued with the king. Apart from his wife of course.

“What are you doing up so late?” you asked, shutting the doors behind you and walking up to your husband.

He smiled seeing you, but you could see all the emotions swimming behind his mind, “Its all finally sinking in,” he said. He looked down and saw Greywind by your side, “Does he follow you everywhere?”

“Normally yeah. I am his favourite after all,” you teased as you stood in front of him, your hand resting on his.

Robb smiled as he pulled you to sit on his lap, facing out to the throne room, “I can’t blame him. He has good taste,” he said, and you hummed in agreement. “How does it feel to be a queen?”

“How does it feel to be a king?” you answered his question with one of your own. Neither one of you knew how to feel but you knew with Robb beside you, you would figure it out. “If I’m queen does that mean I can do whatever I want?” you asked.

Robb hummed behind you, placing a kiss to the back of your neck, “I suppose so love. As long as you’re with me,”

You leaned back into his chest, “There’s nowhere I’d rather be my king,” Robb looked into your eyes before crashing his lips onto yours. They were hungry and strong like his hands that were gripping onto your hips, securing you in place. He ran his tongue over your bottom lip, and you were no one to deny your king. He gained entry, his tongue fighting with yours. It was sloppy and impatient but so fiery it made a warm feeling flood your stomach.

Greywind growled from beside the throne causing you to pull away, almost gasping for air, “I don’t think he’s so happy,” You said, giggling when Robb moved to kiss your neck.

“Then send him away,” Robb said before biting the spot where your neck and shoulder met. You gasped then moaned when he soothed it with his tongue.

You tried waving your hand, signalling the wolf to go but he only came closer. “Greywind no,” you said, moaning again when Robbs kisses trailed up to under your jaw. “Go Greywind,” you tried again. Finally, the wolf took the message and padded away and out of the door to the throne room. “The door,” you reminded Robb when you realised it was open still.

Robb groaned as he picked you up and set you beside the throne, “You better be naked when I get back,” he said before rushing over to shut the door. you quickly did as your king commanded. Due to the hour, you were only in your night clothes and a cloak anyway which you had kept tightly shut before getting in the room. Now the fabric was discarded beside the thrones.

He had a wolfish hunger in his eyes as he strode across the throne room to you. He pulled you in by the back of your neck for a frantic kiss before he shoved you by your hips to sit on the throne. “I’ve been waiting for this,” Robb said as he stripped himself of his tunic and undershirt. “That whole war all I could think about was getting home so I could please my queen,” he said as he sunk to his knees in front of you, “Would you like that?” Robb asked as he pressed a kiss to your knee, the another slightly further up and up, “Do you want me to please you right here on the throne?” Robb asked as he placed your legs over his shoulder, and he placed a final kiss to your inner thigh.  

He looked up at you with desperate eyes, his breath fanning over your wet core where his mouth was mere inches from. You nodded down at him, biting your lip as equally desperate as him.  Robb just chuckled though and pressed another kiss to your other thighs, “I want to hear you say it my queen,” he said.

It was as if your breath was caught in your throat. “Please,” you managed to breathe out, “Please my king. Make me come undone,” you begged.

“Your wish is my command,” he said as he ran a finger up your folds, “Your so wet for me,” Robb chuckled causing your cheeks to flush, “Such a pretty site,” he praised before leaning closer and pressing a kiss to your now exposed clit causing you to gasp.

Robb gripped your thighs as he brought his mouth to your core. He began trailing feather light licks up your cunt going slow and teasing moans and obscenities to fall from your lips. He slowly increased the pressure, his nose coming to nuzzle your clit as he brought his tongue closer. By now anyone in the hall could probably hear your curses as he was lapping up your juices, his tongue diving into your hole as his nose nudged your clit. A line of moans and gasps fell out your lips at the feeling of his mouth. It was the first time you had been touched in this way and you begged it would not be the last.

Suddenly you felt his fingertips circling your hole, his tongue moving up to focus on swirling around your clit. You gasped in pleasure when his fingers entered you, curling perfectly as he had learned to do over your rushed encounters in the war. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach grow and tighten as Robb increased his fingers speed till, he hit a sweet spot when a loud moan fell from your lips. You could almost feel his smirk against your cunt, knowing he had found it. his added tongue only made you crazier as begs and curses fell from your lips, begging him to keep going.

The pressure continued to build until you felt his teeth graze your clit then suddenly all the pressure released, and the most unladylike moans erupted out of your lips as your body shake under his touch. Your whole body was exhausted by the time Robb stood; his face wet with your juices but he didn’t seem to care as he dove in for a hungry kiss.

His lips were rough against yours as he lifted you off the throne to quickly replace you, placing you on his lap facing him. Robb pulled back from the kiss to hold your face and push your hair from your face, “Fuck you’re perfect,” he whispered against your lips, “Let’s see if I can make you do that again. Would you like that love?” he asked as he began unlacing his trousers. You kissed him in response, unable to speak from the tiredness that had overcome your body. Robb chuckled into the kiss, “You’re perfect,” he said.

You managed to force your body up enough for him to slide his trousers down. You looked down to see Robb’s hard cock spring free from his trousers. The tip was red, and you could already see his precum dripping off the top. Robb held your hips, pulling you closer and guiding his cock if for you to sink down on. Your breath hitched in your throat at the girth but there was little pain after how he had prepared you.

Robb cursed at the feeling of you sinking down on him and his hands stayed on your hips which he began moving to grind onto him, moans falling from his lips. “You feel so good,” He grunted as he hung his neck to rest on your shoulder, “You’ll be the end of me,” Rob told you.

Finally feeling more awake from before you began to grind your hips to match his, Robb’s head falling back to rest on the back of the throne as he watched you ride him on it. more curses fell from both your lips at the feeling. You weren’t going fast enough for the king however who decided to grip your hips tighter and snap his hips up to thrust into you. Endless moans fell from your lips as Robb thrust into you faster than before.

You felt the same knot as before build in your stomach as he thrust into you. Suddenly Robb licked his fingers before bringing them down to rub your already sensitive clit causing the knot to tangle a hundred times more. It didn’t take long for the pressure to build and crash again as you came undone around him a second time. As you squeezed around his cock Robb felt his own orgasm quickly approaching so as you rode out your peak, he chased his.

Robb let out a growl as his seed spilt into you and you fell onto his chest on the throne. The room was silent apart from both your panting. After a few moments of silence, you pressed a kiss to Robbs chest, “We should do that again sometime,”

“Oh, we’re gonna do this a lot more love,”

Taglist: @twilightrows @graniairish @kimm4710

[rheanyraaaa]

Water Lilly (Part 1)

Robb Stark x Frey!Reader (F)

Enemies To lovers

Summary: Y/N Frey (reader) is the youngest daughter of Walder Frey, her mother being just another woman who died in childbirth, here she learns about her union with Robb Stark, King of the North, and she’s more then displeased of the sudden arrangement, but when she looks into his eyes for the first time. Now that’s something.

warnings: alcohol consumption, forced marriage

i fear i don’t know what i’m doing ISNT PROOFREAD also switched out from “You/your “ pronouns and “She/Her”

this was all pre written in my notes w my OC’s name and without “Y/N”/ & or You so i apologise if u do see a random girls name that’s not Y/N or You lmao (unless you’re your actual name) x

——————————————————————————

Y/N stirred awake, blotches of orange and pink sunlight spilling into the room through the curtains, she fluttered her eyelids as she made sense of her surrounds as always, this was the cold, stone room she called home. The bed was cold and stiff, much like the Twins, but the warmth of morning softened the chill in the air. She lay there for a moment, blinking up at the heavy wooden beams on the ceiling, and sighed deeply. She missed Dorne. The dusty winds and golden sands, the gardens that spilled over with sweet-scented blooms, and the warm laughter that lingered in the air, all of it was so different from the grim and graying walls of her father’s keep.

She was born in the river lands in the Twins to her mother, Lady Frey, who unfortunately passed away from childbirth, another forgotten face who lost their battle on the battlefield of the bed. As a youngling, Walder Frey sent her of to Dorne, where her mother had been born and brought up. Though, technically her mother was of Myrish descent, who just happened to be one of those descendants of immigrants who crossed the narrow sea for work. That’s how Y/N’s mothers side ended up in Dorne with no actual dorneish blood. Y/N was mixed, which was uncommon in Westeros, since Essosi’s and Westerosi’s did not mix all the well, and it was worse when Y/N’s features took favour to her mother, atleast she didn’t look as boring or unappetising as her sisters (though Roslin has always been beautiful.)

She sat up, wrapping her arms around herself as a handmaid poked her head through the door. “Good morning, my lady,” the maid greeted with a small bow. “Shall I draw your bath?”

Y/N nodded, her thoughts drifting as the maids bustled around, bringing in buckets of steaming water. The scent of lavender and rosemary filled the air, oh that was her favourite scent in the morning. Two maids helped her undress, and she sank into the tub, sighing as the warm water soothed her.

As one of the maids gently poured water over her shoulders, Irene spoke, almost to herself. “I was happier in Dorne,” she murmured, trailing her fingers through the water. “I want to go back there someday. To see my family again, to be… me again.” She looked down, smiling wistfully. “I was freer there, you know?”

One of the older maids, Meg, nodded with a sympathetic smile as she rinsed your hair. “Aye, my lady. They say Dorne has a way of bringing out the heart in people. But your father has his reasons for wanting you here.”

“He always has his reasons,” You said softly, her voice edged with resignation. She leaned back, letting the maids scrub the last traces of sleep from her limbs.

“You’re still Frey dearie. You’d never stay in Dorne for too long, though it’s built you, made you smarter.” Meg cheerily said, scrubbing and Y/N’s hair, throwing whatever ointments. Y/N hummed to this, she’s still Frey, the reason why she lingered in Dorne until her thirteenth was quite the random decision.

The other handmaiden, Nora, much younger and atleast 17 said to Y/N, “My lady, there’s talks about Lady Stark coming over here, apparently she’s looking for a bride for her son.” She spoke excitedly, washing at your arms.

“Stark? Northerner? he must be a rugged beast with no sense at all, must be another one of those brutes they breed up there.” You replied quickly, to think that a Stark would want to marry a Frey was also unbelievable, who would want to marry a big wolf?

“Your father’s picking between your sisters, then they have to be confirmed by my Lady Catelyn.” Meg continued, as you let them condition your hair and add some extra oils and essences to your bath time.

You nodded, not that you cared�� well you thought it was interesting for one of them to ask for a hand in marriage, “What’s the reason for the marriage?” You asked, looking down in the soapy water.

“The crossing or something like that, they need it for the war.” Meg rattled on, scrubbing the last parts of you before preparing a towel for you.

“Of course.” You muttered, still sleepy from the terrible cold, wet night you all suffered from. “What’s the boy’s name?” You asked, less then cheery.

“Robb Stark? something like that. He’s know as the Young wolf, rides a wolf into battle, turns into one in the night. I think it’s a load of rubbish, but I do hear he’s handsome.” Nora spoke, rattling on about this Robb Stark and what good features he has and how much he resembles his Tully mother.

“Perhaps you have a chance though my lady.” Meg said calmly. As she was drying you off and wrapping yourself in a thick robe. “Lady Y/N,” she began, helping with the braid of her damp hair. “Your father could choose you, this rugged beast of a man could be your escape.”

“And leave you all behind? I doubt it.” You rolled your eyes at their failure at convincing you.

“It’s merely a suggesting. Do take it lightly.” Meg replied, trying to please you.

Y/N allowed the maids to dry her off, the steam from the bath still clinging to her skin, making the chill of the Twins feel sharper. She was dressed in a simple gown of dusky blue wool, plain but fitted, with embroidered vines of silver along the cuffs and neckline. Her hair had been braided into a crown, a few tendrils curling loose around her face, softening her expression as she wrapped herself in a fur cloak. She was ready to brave the drafts that snuck through the old stone walls.

As she made her way through the winding halls, Nora fell into step beside her. They walked slowly, their footsteps echoing off the stone, and Y/N’s voice was almost a whisper as they resumed their conversation.

“So, Lady Stark is truly searching for a wife for her son?” Y/N asked, her voice threaded with curiosity and a hint of skepticism. “Does she think it so simple to find one of us willing to move to the North? Nonetheless with this war, any one of us be part of it?”

Nora gave a soft laugh. “It seems your father thinks it’s simple enough,” she replied, glancing at Y/N. “But yes, word has it she wants a match to strengthen the ties between the North and the Riverlands. They say Robb Stark needs someone who’ll bring loyalty and strength to his cause, but also it’s an agreement for the crossing that will help him win the war”

“Loyalty and strength,” You mused, a smirk playing at your lips. “I wonder if Lady Stark knows much of the Freys.”

Nora chuckled at that, shaking her head. “Perhaps she only hears what she wishes. But you might surprise her, my lady. You’ve a spirit that could suit the North well. They say it takes a certain fire to keep warm in those freezing castles.”

You paused by an arched window, looking out over the river winding far below. The day was clear, and the wind swept in with a sharp bite, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and cold water. You wrapped your cloak tighter around yourself. “I wonder if he’s anything like her, Robb Stark,” You murmured, almost to yourself. “I’ve heard Lady Stark is as proud and steadfast as the North itself.”

Perhaps,” Nora replied, leaning against the wall beside you. “But I’ve also heard he has some of his father in him. An honorable man, loyal to a fault, like Eddard Stark. A woman could do worse.”

“Could she?” You asked, turning away from the view with a sigh. “The North is distant, Nora. Cold. Unyielding. I’ve only known heat and light, gardens that stretch as far as you can see. Here, it’s all stone, and there, well, it’s ice, isn’t it?”

Nora gave you a sympathetic look, but before she could reply, a loud, impatient voice interrupted them.

“Y/N!”

They turned to see your half-brother, Merrett Frey, striding toward them, his expression bored and slightly sour. Merrett was a portly man with thin hair and a perpetually furrowed brow, looking as though everything he saw annoyed him.

“Y/N” he repeated, glancing from her to Nora, “Father wants to see you. Now.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, though you masked your annoyance quickly. “Did he say why?”

Merrett shrugged, clearly uninterested in details. “Something about a match. Said he wants you in the hall at once.”

Y/N exchanged a glance with Nora, a mix of dread and resignation in her eyes. “So it begins,” she muttered under her breath before she straightened, squaring her shoulders.

“Very well, Merrett,” she replied coolly, giving a final look out the window, as though Dorne lay somewhere beyond, waiting for her. “Lead the way.”

And with that, she followed her brother down the winding corridors, a feeling like ice settling over her heart.

The great hall of the Twins was dark and drafty as Irene entered, her cloak trailing behind her like a shadow. Walder Frey sat at the high table, hunched over with age, his piercing eyes watching her approach. He gave her a thin, sly smile, a glint of satisfaction in his gaze that made her stomach twist. Around him, a few of her siblings and half-siblings lingered, pretending to be occupied with anything other than her arrival.

She stopped before him, lifting her chin defiantly.

“Y/N,” he began without ceremony, his voice as thin and cutting as the river wind. “I’ve struck a deal with Catelyn Stark, and I’ll hear no argument. You’ll be marrying Robb Stark, the Young Wolf, and doing your duty as a Frey. Our alliance with the Starks strengthens us. You should be proud.” He then took a chug out of his red wine.

You felt your throat tighten, her voice sticking as she forced herself to speak. “Father, surely… surely there’s someone else more suited to this—“

Walder’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll be good because I say so. We’ve not been offered a match like this, not in a long time. A wolf from Winterfell, boy or not, could make you a queen if you play it right. But you’re to do as I command,” he said, his tone turning as cold as steel.

You opened your mouth to protest further, but his stare silenced you. Your voice faded, her gaze lowering. You realized then, painfully, that you had no choice.

“Yes, Father,” she murmured, her voice resigned. “As you wish.”

He grunted, satisfied. “Good girl. Go on, then. I expect you’ll be a dutiful wife.”

Days later, Y/N stood in her chamber at the Twins, a quiet stillness surrounding her as she prepared for the wedding. She thought back to Lady Catelyn’s gaze when they first met sharp and cool. Catelyn had looked her over with an assessing eye, her expression revealing nothing as she took in Y/N’s every detail, from her posture to her expression. Y/N could practically feel the weight of Catelyn’s silent judgment, her assessment of whether Y/N would be fit to stand beside her son in both marriage and war. After what seemed an eternity, Lady Stark had finally given a curt nod, deeming her acceptable.

You slipped into your wedding gown, a simple yet beautiful piece the seamstresses had hurriedly prepared. It was made of silken ivory, with long, elegant sleeves that flowed to your wrists, and a fitted bodice embroidered with delicate silver leaves. The gown was free of unnecessary adornment, simple yet striking, with a modest neckline and a trailing skirt that whispered over the stone floor behind you.

Your hair, braided the southern way, with a shimmering veil falling infront of your face and behind you, covering up the meek expression you held.

“You’re shining.” Nora spoke sadly, knowing this was probably the last time they’d see eachother. Her voice soft and filled with acceptance.

Meg, the older maid who had helped raise you, stepped forward as well, her eyes misty with emotion. “Be strong, my dear. You’re braver than you think.” She reached out and gave your hands a squeeze.

“Il miss you both,” A knot in your stomach tightened, this was really it. You bid your goodbyes before making your way down the hall outside, your father taking your arm with that wretched grin he always had on, the doors opening, the Stark flag hoisted alongside your own one, you didn’t dare look up from your feet, the chill air hitting you immediately as you were clutching at your fathers arms before he let you go and you had met with what looks to be Robb Stark.

You couldn’t really see him well with the veil and you’re sure he couldn’t see your face at all. A moment later after the septa spoke, he removed the veil over your face, and his eyes.. something in it softened, they were pools of dark blue, and you swear you felt your heart thump a little faster. He was rugged yet handsome, with the wolf emblem on him, you saw him quickly look at someone else, rather this other young lady before looking back at you, that lady having a rather solemn look on her face. You knew straight away that was his lover, and this would be even more complex then you had anticipated. You said your vows and shared a kiss, your lips much softer against his chapped ones, but perhaps you felt that warmth again. Maybe this could work, or maybe you were doomed to fail.

——————————————————————————

tags!!! (Tell me if you want to be tagged in pt2)

@samieree @maysileeewrites

[dipperscavern]

╰┈➤ ROBB STARK MASTERLIST

fluff = ✿ angst = ❀ suggestive = ❁ nsfw = ❃

━━━━━━━━━━༺✰ ━━━━━━━━━━━

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･fics/works

comfort — established relationship, fem!reader; 2.3k words

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･thoughts

greywind + ghost being the first to know you’re pregnant

insatiable robb stark ❃

virgin!robb ❁

cregan & robb + corruption kink ❃

robb & jon + their suave w the ladies

robb stark loves annoying you

robb stark + teasing + eating you out ❃

you always have robb starks full attention

werewolf!robb ❁

robb + lannister!reader

robb + baratheon!reader

bi!robb + bi!reader

more robb + biting

robb + comforting you during thunderstorms ✿

do robb & theon ever share? ❁

robb stark x shy!reader

does theon ever get jealous toward robb & reader?

modern!au robb stark + theme park rides

robb stark + armor sex ❁

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･drabbles

being robb starks bookworm

early mornings with robb ✿

robb helping you out before a feast

you have a nightmare, & robb helps you out ❃

robb stark + tyrell!reader

robb stark + reader who hates the cold

more robb + cold reader ✿

comforting robb after a long day of war ✿

him telling you of his betrothal to the frey girl ❀

breathless & whiny robb stark ❃

robb stark & the way he looks at you

robb thinking you’re dead ❀ ✿

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･blurbs

robb while you’re on your period ❁

robb stark & random declarations of love ✿

robb + summerislesprincess!reader headcannons

suave robb stark

letting robb take his frustration out on you ❃

robb stark + teasing ❃

robb preparing to be a father headcannons

robb stark enemies to lovers headcannons

robb stark + cockwarming ❃

sub!robb stark ❃

jon x robb x reader ❃

playing with robb’s hair ✿

mean!robb stark ❃

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･the stark men

stark men + breeding kink ❁

the stark men + eating you out ❃

stark men + period sex ❃

stark men + possessiveness ❁

the stark men & their bedtime routine

sitting on the stark men’s laps ✿

stark men + pet names

stark men + manhandling

blowing the stark men ❃

the stark men + biting ❁

making the stark men blush ❁

the stark men & their northern accents

the stark men + bedding ceremonies

the stark men & how kinky they are

━━━━━━━━━━༺✰ ━━━━━━━━━━━

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

6 - King and Queen in the North

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (Slow Burn), Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 10.4k

Warnings: Angst/hurt comfort, slow burn, discussions of warfare, strained parent-child issues, mild mentions of blood and violence, smut, oral (m receiving), slight dom/sub dynamics, consensual degredating langauge, symptoms of post coital sub drop, secret relationship, unexplained nightmares

Notes: Robbs campaign in the Westlands begins now. Disclaimer, I am not a war expert so if you are, just don't read into it too closely. Series Masterlist Here.

Men in the camp all spoke of different stories to explain it, some fantastical, some of ominous warning and many in their spare moments keeping their eyes peeled to the sky following the slow moving streak of red. The tip of it burned brighter almost as an orange or yellow that deepened in colour as it stretched into a striking red tail. It appeared in the bright sun of the daylight it seemed many days ago and it had barley moved along the skyline as it peeked into the night. The moon was barley visible in comparison, the red comet burned so bright that it demanded all of the skies attention. 

Now in the dark of the night, it was much more the centre of talk and yet as you walked through the camp you paid it no mind. Olyvar Frey to his credit, was trying very hard to be a dutiful squire to the King in the North and he seemed to show you a similar level of respect. Yet as you heard his squeaky voice shouting, you felt a tinge of annoyance in your chest. You would like just one singular night that would allow you any sleep. “Your grace,” 

Turning to see him, he paused in front of you, leaning his hands onto his thighs as he huffed out, “Your grace, my apologies, I,” taking another breathe he hoisted himself up and straight as he held out a raven scroll. “A raven came in urgently for the King.” 

Grabbing it, you glanced at the unbroken wax seal to see that of a Stag. Heart picking up a small bit, you nodded a thanks to the squire and he took a moment before realizing you were waiting for him to take his leave. 

There was much getting used to now, this new title. The Northmen respected you as their Queen as much as they did when choosing Robb Stark as their King. You had stood beside him, fought beside them as he did, and knew the North as well as any foreigner could. You had knelt and pledged in front of his men, that you vowed more then that of a wife’s love to him but your sword and loyalty. Even when it would mean standing opposite of your own father. 

You could only wonder just how he had taken it, learning of your allegiance, that these people called you Queen in the North. Now with a letter in your hands to the King you knew him well enough that Stannis Baratheon was not one to broker peace after being insulted so. Coming to your own tent, you could see that Robb had barley gotten inside before preoccupying himself with the papers in front of him. 

So much so, you seemed to have not even been noticed. “Your grace.” Robb having propped part of his head up by a closed fist with his elbow perched on a table, he raised up quietly with narrowed eyes until they flattened out to an amused smirk. “I know a King such as yourself is ever so busy, but pray tell could he spare a few moments for a girl such as myself?” 

Standing up, the smirk grew to a more wolfish grin as he stepped towards you. Slow, purposeful steps that made you feel like the prey before he stood tall over your leaning his face into yours. “For such a pretty one, I have more then a few.” Two fingers pulled your face up to his from under your chin, as he pressed his lips gently to yours. His other hand moving up to find the back of your neck, but finding you pulling back before he had the chance. 

One hand on his chest plate, he glanced down to see what the other was holding. His eyes narrowed more in question, before you turned it in your fingers so he could see the sigil. You found the others eyes, him pulling you in further away from the entrance. He leaned back against the table, using one hand to pull you to stand between his legs so he could keep his touch at your waist. “What’s it say?”

Raising an eyebrow, “It’s for the King in the North.” 

Robb only shook his head in a slight no, running one hand smoothly up and down your waist to hip and back. “And you are my Queen, which means what I know, I want you to know too.” It still took getting used to even from him, “Read it for me.” 

If you took a deep breathe no doubt it would come out shaking, instead you let your lungs burn as you unveiled the writing. Not in your fathers own hand, but it was indeed in his words nor was it addressed to one person. Th contents though, made you raise your eyebrows in surprise. Whatever ideas the realm had of this war before, certainly they knew now. 

“To the High Lords of Westeros, all men know me for the true born son of Steffon Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End, by his lady wife Cassana of House Estermont. I declare upon the honour of my house that my brother Robert, our late King left no true born issues of his body. The boy Joffery, the boy Tommen, and the girl Myrcella being born of incest between Cersei Lannister and her brother Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer. By right of birth and blood, I do this day lay claim to the Iron Throne of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. Let all true men declare their loyalty. Done in the Light of the Lord,”

For a brief second, your eyes narrowed at the wording in a mix of confusion and then to a distant concern. All which were not missed by Robb as you continued. 

“under the sign and seal of Stannis of House Baratheon, the first of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and protector of the realm.” Your voice trailing out by the end with a mixture of acceptance and yet frustration in it’s sound. 

Robb pulled one hand back open as you handed it to him to scan over for himself. Your own hands now free, found themselves resting gently along the side and back of his neck. “It seems he’s not willing to make the same mistake.” Glancing up to you with a knowing look, “The whole realm knows now.” 

Robb meant no offence and you knew that. His father and you had made a few too many of them in both of your failing confidence in allies. Ned Stark, having sent one of his men to give a letter detailing the truth in the wake of Robert’s death meant for Stannis and only Stannis. Your own father however, seemed to think that no such subtly was required. “He wants everyone to know if you oppose him, then you’re opposing the one true King.” Your words a bit more pedantic then calm. 

There was no doubt when you chose to stand by his side what this meant for your family. It meant that now two of you were pulling the remains of the Baratheons apart, but before you could look to Robb, your men, and the united front that the Lannister forces how three times could not keep up with and ignore it. Now however? There was no more room to pretend otherwise. 

Robb would be considered a usurper, and you a traitor. At the least the punishment was the same for both crimes, but the once idea of your heads on spikes were whispered to be something new. Something this letter only added validity to such rumours. Robb gently calling your name, getting you to look him in the eye. “There is something else, something I wasn’t sure of until this.” Your fingers tapping at the letter. “He had said in the Light of the Lord,” 

“He did,” Robb watching carefully as you tried putting pieces together. 

Your nails lightly scratching at the ends of curly hair at the back of his neck almost like a nervous tick needing to fidget with something. “I’ve been hearing things from Dragonstone. About my father and mother.” 

It weighed in your chest unsettled and uncomfortable enough that you pulled out of Robb’s touch entirely as the feeling closed in on you. Choosing instead of sit back against the surface next to him as one arm draped across your stomach and the other with your fingers curling up against your lips. “My family has never exactly been considerably dedicated to the Seven, as you likely could tell.” 

A lightness in Robbs eyes glazed over as he looked at you, “Aye, considering there is actually a small sept in Winterfell and you never even considered getting married there.” 

Nodding, you didn’t think of the ceremony a lot actually. Most of it felt like a blur of anxiety that you barley remembered any of it until the crowd had left entirely. “My father and I approached it much the same. That the gods exist, but neither of us particularly liked them very much. He saw it was, we have our duty down here why should we too trap ourselves in obeying all of their demands as well.” 

Robb found himself trying not to laugh, unknowingly much like his father had said to his mother, “It is your gods with all the rules.” The Old Gods had not rules, but ways of life to adhere to that worked in conjunction with the way they saw nature was supposed to work. Likely why most Northerners found little care to move South, when many Southerners found little issue in going place to place. 

The Andals had came through the lands and cut down almost every Weirwood south of White Harbour, and pushed the First Men up behind that point to stay out of their way as they brought the Faith of the Seven with them. You smiled a little yourself. “My uncles weren’t exactly much different, just a little more into the debauchery of it all then us. But I’ve heard things about my father.” 

“He’s taken an advisor in a woman from Asshai. A red priestess of this,” You paused to find the words but none were too kind, “fanatical religion. One of the men here call it R’hllor. This red god that works through fire and blood magic and sacrifice.”

The image in your mind of the blackness of the cell in Kings Landing, your memory of that dream was so faded now all you could recall was a terrible chilling cold, and that of a flame that seemed to fly past you before you woke up. The dream at the time unsettled you then, and yet now as you could barley even recall anything but that it still did. 

You must have been quiet for longer then a moment, as Robb leaned closer into your side as he murmured your name. “Talk to me, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Shutting your eyes, you felt the nerves soothed once more by his thick warm voice draping like honey in your ear. 

You shrugged though, “I’m not sure. I shouldn’t even care, we have more to worry about.” He could tell you were rapidly changing the topic, but thankfully you knew that Robb knew better then to push you to talk when so much of how you worked things out was in the quiet of your head. 

“I’m going to speak to him.” Looking back at him, Robb had dropped more of the softness only you were privy to these days. “Jaime. He had admitted it to my mother, that he pushed Bran from the window. But now that the whole realm knows his secret, I want to hear him confess his crime to my face.” A look in his eye grew darker and harsher when he met your eyes. 

“I’d wish you luck, but I know neither of you need that now do you?” 

This time, he was far less soft as he pulled you into him by the back of your neck. Pressing his lips roughly to yours, and deepening it just enough to steal your breathe before pulling back with a bite to your lower lip. Smirking at the low look in your eyes as he brushed against your lips still as he spoke lowly. “Your King expects you to show me just how lucky he is later tonight, understood?” 

He kissed you once more before departing. If Robb was good at one thing, it was making you forget everything you were raised and trained to be as soon as he got that lustful, demanding look in his eyes. 

The growing disparity of numbers was doing your head in. So many men here, so many here and yet the amounts changed depending on the source and of course each man saw it differently. Lord Karstark across from you arguing about the sheer size in the Stormlands. “Even if he had twice that, he’s no better then a boy playing games. He’s fought no battles, and neither have half those summer boys camped out.” 

Biting your tongue as you considered it, you shook your head at the dismissal finally. “He has Highgarden and the Tyrells, which means he also has Randyll Tarly at his command.” 

The Greatjon beside you loud and brash as any, “Tarly’s more likely to inspire those men to pack their bags and head home then follow that rat into battle. Some say he had his eldest killed and his second sons not the sharpest one either.” 

Tilting your head in doubt you glanced up at him, “It doesn’t matter what he did, what matters is if he’s on Renly’s side then they have more leadership then none. I don’t care what the man’s like in private, I care about how quickly he can train his men.” 

Bolton to the right of you spoke much calmer much to your growing headache’s relief, “We should have approached the Tyrell’s before Renly married the girl.” 

Now that was a news you hardly could picture, no more then a political move but you had no concept of what your uncle was going to do to even try selling that reality. “There’s nothing we could’ve done, Renly’s been in with the Tyrells for longer then even Roberts been dead.” Roose glancing at you curiously as you elaborated. “He’d been trying to find a way to get Lady Margaery in Robert’s bed for over a year, and he didn’t just leave the city when Robert died he left with Ser Loras and fifty retainers with them.” 

“You think he already knew about the Queen?” 

Nodding to Karstark with confidence. “I know he did. There’d be no reason for it otherwise. He gets the Tyrells in with his brother, exposes the Queen’s secret and suddenly there’s a gap to be filled on the throne and oh would you look at that.” Hitting your palms with some force onto the table, “Someone already has a tie in with Highgarden that just so happens to have a hundred thousand men at arms.” 

“She’s right,” the gruff voice of Brynden Tully speaking up from the side of the room. “We dismiss Renlys army and it gives them the chance to smarten up without us noticing and sneak up behind us while we’re busy with Lord Tywin.” 

“Most of his men backed themselves into Harrenhal, he’ll join them most likely. Knows it’s too risky for us to march on him even in those ruins.” Your head continued to grow louder in it’s pain. There were four armies at this point, and frustratingly the North were the only ones who weren’t fighting for claim of the Iron Throne and yet it seemed all of the weight of this war was falling on your shoulders.

You stared at the lap, marks laid out as the debate continued. There was a certain amount of worry you were purposely keeping from them, one that you knew Robb was watching fester inside. You were not worried about Renly’s army against the North, no you knew better then that. 

Stannis would go after Renly first, considering him as his biggest threat having claimed his seat for himself and brought maybe ten thousand men of Storm’s End onto his side. Guessing you’d say your father was left with around five thousand which to most is something to scoff at, but you knew better then that. 

He had skill, drive, and little mercy for those who were in his way in ways that Renly had never even seen before. His enemy was Renly, then the Iron Throne and finally you had no doubt your father would end his campaign by coming after Robb. The North hadn’t declared independence just to hand themselves over to the crown without a fight. 

If Lord Tywin was your current enemy, it was your own father’s Iron fist that left you awake at night. The men around you bowing with mutterings of “Your Grace,” causing you to look up. Robb entering the room looking to you as you gave a slight grimace. Renlys numbers it seemed, continue to be the rotten apple of the bunch that was ruining the strength of the rest. 

Moving aside from where you were stood, palms braced against the table as you leaned over the chair as Robb moved around. Theon came in after him with a nod, “Your grace.” If there was one person who such formality felt odd being directed towards, it was the strangest coming from the Greyjoy. You had spent far too many years bickering and bantering to be used to being addressed as such from him. 

Taking a similar stance as you had, Robb looked over the map. “I assume we haven’t reached an agreement yet?” Brynden confirming that no you all had not, as he explained that the problem seems to be what to do about Renly. Robb considered the words, “He has the numbers, but he has the weakest claim and no talent for warfare. Last I heard he was busy holding competitions just to elect a kingsgaurd. Either we deal with him now when he’s no threat, or we let him turn into a threat and it is too late to come to any agreement.” 

Lord Karstark opened his mouth, speaking the first few syllables of protest before Greatjon’s voice bellowed pushing right back. “You not hear your King, Karstark? Or do you think this is up for debate.” 

The man muttering an apology, “No offence is taken, my lord. You are all hear to have your opinions heard.” Taking a seat, Robb begun to glance around to his men. “Now, why I’ve called you all here so late.” 

If you were being honest, it was far to much work to keep with the amount of Lannisters there. Some looked alike, some looked nothing like any you’d ever seen making you wonder just looks their parents had to create such a mix in appearances. The man in front of you had darker hair, somewhat similar eyes to his cousins but little else you saw that would place him but name. 

For all of the damage such striking blonde hair had caused in Kings Landing, the Lannisters did not seem to share the strength in familial looks that the Baratheons or Starks shared. He was still and quiet, but had nothing but an earnest respect on his face as he looked to the King now speaking to him. “You’re Ser Alton Lannister?” 

“I am, your grace.” 

He had been called upon in wake of the fresh defeat of forces, Robb to send him to Kings Landing and present the Queen with his peace terms. “She won’t care.” Renly’s voice had spoken once more in your head, and yet when telling that to Robb he wasn’t perturbed at all.  

“You’re right, she won’t. But then I’m the one who extended an offer to end the war, which means the fault lies with them for denying us. We have our enemies, but none who hate us quite as much as they hate the Lannisters.” 

It was clever to be honest. Make a simple offer of peace that could end Robb’s campaign against them with ease, especially considering it was incontestable the degree which they were losing the war against him. Give them one less army to fight and the North far more time to plan and resource how to handle Stannis should his own campaign for the throne succeed. 

“I offer your cousins peace if they meet my terms.” Robb spoke with the roughness of authority and yet the powerful calm of a man truly in charge. He suited his role perfectly, as if truly destined for him. “First, your family must release my sisters. Second, my father’s bone’s must be returned to us so he may rest beside his brother and sister in the crypts beneath Winterfell.” 

Your heart ripped a little at his demand. It ripped at his even though he did now show or speak it here and now. Your uncle had called such a place dark and depressing, when to the Starks it was where they belonged. A place they could stay together in the home they belonged in. Eddard Stark did not belong rotting away in Kings Landing, sick thinking of how long did they let his head decay away on those spikes. 

“And the remains of all those who died in his service must also be returned. Their families can honour them with proper funerals.” 

Alton for his part, had a look of understanding to each request so far. “An honourable request, your grace.” But your eyes narrowed at him, and he caught the look with a tiny shift to something more unsteady at the sight. You knew he wouldn’t take the next quite as easily as Robb too knew what he was asking him to deliver. 

“Third, Joffery and the Queen Regent must renounce all claim to dominion of the North.” Oh the look on the Lannister’s face that dropped so quickly. “From this time ‘till the end of time, we are a free and independent Kingdom.” 

The nervousness dripping from him as the loyal men surround you and Robb all unified in their words together, “The King in the North.”  

“Neither Joffery not any of his men shall set foot in our lands again. If he disregards this command, he shall suffer the same fate as my father. Only I don’t need a servant to do my beheading for me.” 

A chilling pride filling your veins. For as much learning as you had been given in your years growing up, none at all gave you anywhere near the ease of leadership that Robb had so quickly grown into. Alton Lannister in his place, stammered out “These are...Your grace, these are...”

Robb finding no issue in finishing his sentence for him. “These are my terms. If the Queen Regent and her son meet them, I’ll give them my peace. If not?” His voice dropping harsh and deep with no false or pretend in it to be found. “I will litter the south with Lannister dead.” 

As if he forgot where he was, Alton spoke out, “King Joffery is a Baratheon, your grace..”

“Is he?” 

Silence fell over the Lannister as he looked at you, a paleness in his face growing ever more white at the unblinking stare you gave him until the silence threatened to swallow the man whole. Robb had taken quite a bit of internal struggle to not smirk at just how quickly you turned the Northerners in the room to quick amusement at the mans expense. “You’ll ride at daybreak, Ser Alton.” 

Nodding, he was brought out of the tent as Robb dismissed the rest of his men. “That will be all for tonight.” 

Standing together, Robb raised an eyebrow with a playful glint in his eye. “Is he?” His smirk turning to more of a grin as you broke your own face into a smirk. “Nearly send that man into an early grave. Who would’ve sent the understanding Queen my oh so reasonable terms then?” 

Shrugging a shoulder at him, “I have no doubt there’s an endless amount of Lannisters around you can scare into it, my King.” 

Nudging you ahead of him playfully you both could see Theon waiting around the front as you three now stood at the opening of the tent. Looking to the camp settling itself in. “A word, your grace?” 

Robb sounded almost bashful as he turned to him, “You don’t have to call me your grace when no one’s around.” A small pocket of ease settled between the three of you, for a short moment you were not the leaders of a war as Theon shrugged. 

“It’s not so bad once you get used to it.” 

Feeling Robb’s hand run gently along your arm and wrist where he could find without looking, as you twisted to run yours over his hand back as he sighed. “I’m glad someone’s gotten used to it. “

Cutting to the chase Theon at least understood what was happening. “The Lannisters are going to reject your terms, know.” Robb wasting no breathe in affirming that of course they would as Theon turned to you both. “We can fight them in the fields as long as you like, but we won’t need them until you take Kings Landing. And we can’t take Kings Landing without ships.” 

Glancing at you, Theon could clearly tell by how quickly glanced to Robb that you could see exactly where this was headed. Both of your families had ships, but only one of you had any chance at bringing them to Robb. “My father has ships, and men who know how to sail them.” 

“Men who fought our fathers.” 

You felt doubt, not in Theon but perhaps in those who he was speaking of. He looked at you with a plead, and you felt for how long he must have considered bringing this up. “Men who fought against King Robert to free themselves from the toke of the south, men who fought against the very father that you’re siding against now.” Your jaw clenched, but you didn’t argue back. He wasn’t wrong. Not at all. 

“I’m his only living son. He’ll listen to me, I know he will.” 

Flickering his eyes to you, a trust was found in both of your eyes in the man before you both that had been as close as could be for over ten years now. Theon’s words were quiet, hitting you with an emotional weight that he hadn’t intended, nor do you think either considered. “I’m not a Stark, I know that. But your father raised me to be an honourable man.” 

You thought of those dreams, those visions of nothing in your eyes that appeared out of nowhere and disappeared just as quickly. A deep rasp that spoke too much of the same words, and yet filled with a pain that send him towards the edge of the world. Neither you not Robb had mentioned it yet but you both certainly felt it, especially as you, him, and Theon all stood here fighting for the same thing. 

A fourth person was missing and both of you felt his absence each day grow more difficult. 

It felt as if the night had never ended. One thing turned to another and another, and little by little by the point you had a chance to peel off the heavy fabric weight you down. Or was it the war around you doing that all on its own? You could hear just outside the quiet mutterings following by a distinct wolfish huff that had you smile. 

Something about the way only Robb could speak to Grey Wind intrigued you. Like it was a companion that understood him, maybe even others. The direwolf was smart enough, but seemed to choose to obey only one. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that Grey Wind did not follow Robb inside, choosing instead to rest comfortably out at the entrance like a lock to the door that didn’t actually exist. Also ignoring the dark look in his eye as he looked you over, turning away from his eyes as you hid how flustered he made you look. “She didn’t take it very well, I’m assuming.” 

“No she didn’t. To either.” Glancing over you saw him move to tear off the layers himself, narrowing your eyes as you crossed the room, motioning for him to turn around. Standing behind him, you had rise up on your toes to comfortably reach at his shoulders as Robb turned slightly to glance at you, a cheeky grin on his face. “You know I have a squire to do this right?” 

Pausing mid movements you leaned over more to meet his gaze, “My apologies, your grace. Shall I go fetch him to undress you tonight?” Robb tried turning to grab at you, only to be stopped by your hands bracing against his shoulders. “No? Then don’t move.” 

As you undid the pauldrons on his shoulders, the weight did nothing to rid him of the itensity in his muscles there, pausing your work only to run your palms over then. Digging in slightly, his breath hitched for a second, exhaling when you moved continued down his arms to undo the armour. “Told me never to trust a Greyjoy.” 

You were glad to be behind him, not wishing for him to see the irritation in your face despite how much you tried to hide it. “We’re not trusting a Greyjoy, we’re trusting Theon. She should know by now there’s a difference.” 

Robb could hear it in your voice however, but he didn’t blame you nor did he hide it in his own frustrations. “If we didn’t make allies in anyone who hasn’t been our enemy before, it’d be seven kingdoms all blindly fighting each other with no one to trust.” As his arms were released, you could see Robb flexing and relaxing them in a pattern, trying to keep the stress from tensing him too much. 

“Hell if that were the case I certainly wouldn’t be allowed to be here would I.” This time he turned to fast for you to hold him in pace. His eyes were unamused as they bore into yours. “I mean if this all goes the way we think it will, it’s not just the Lannisters we’ll be fighting against.” 

His voice was low, and the hefty concern in them made you feel small, or smaller perhaps. “I want you to listen to me.” Shaking off his chest plate he had far more room to pull you closer. “You are far more then just Stannis’s daughter. You’re my wife, the woman I love, and the Queen all those men out there call their own.” Grasping your face gently, he pulled you to look at him, his face serious but the blue in his eyes shined brightly in the dim yellow light. “If we fight him, we fight him. But you won’t do it alone.”

Staring at you until you slowly nodded, he gave you a light, gentle kiss before pulling back. “May I continue?” Kneeling down you started on the last of it quickly, having done it enough times by now for him. Walder Frey gave him a squire, but you much preferred doing certain things yourself for him, you had to share the other with some thirty thousand men out there the least the boy could do was find anywhere else to be at night but in your tent. 

You were quiet and didn’t glance up as you spoke, “I love you as well, just if we’re being honest.” 

The chuckle above you was darker then you thought, a shiver down your spine as he spoke. “Dangerous thing to say to a man when you’re on your knees before him.” Tearing your eyes up you had no way of stopping the way your gaze took it’s time strolling up his body as you freed him from the remaining metal. His hand ran over the side of your face, thumb brushing against your bottom lip before beckoning you up. 

Undoing the laces to slide off the thin material covering your own body, you felt your body want to shake from the sudden cold air but the deep breathe Robb let you as he rested his forehead against yours make you warm. His large hands grasping your hips and pulling you to press against him. “You cannot keep doing this to me, I’d like to get my whole thought out for once before you make me want to shove you into my bed.” 

Pulling back, you looked into his eyes now a much deeper colour then before as you very gently undid the shirt covering his chest. Not looking away still as you slid it open and off both his shoulders to let it drop to the ground. “Well, I’m listening.”  

Either such a quiet growl you were meant to hear, or something only meant for himself you felt his hands tighten against you. “How is it I have five siblings, and yet you’re the one whose the biggest brat?” Not moving, you much more calmly pressed your palms against his chest and up to rest along his shoulders and neck as he collected himself. “She tried telling me I should just send you instead.” 

You bit your tongue as the scenario played out in your mind, “The last time I saw Renly, I told him he was out of his mind thinking he could be a king, and not to do anything stupid. I’m not sure he’d be so keen on letting me walk in and out of his camp.” 

Robb adding, “Not to mention all they’ll see is their enemies daughter, not the wife of the King trying to offer a truce.” The conflict in your heart just never left did it. It was always bubbling to the surface waiting to escape and taunt you. “We agreed to stay together from now on. Where I go, you go, and right now we belong here, with our men fighting this war. I’m not sending you off miles away where anyone could take you.” 

Sliding your hands around the back of his neck, one threaded through his hair as he wrapped his arms around more to pull you into his chest properly. His voice muffled as he rested it in your neck. “I’m not fighting this war without you, and I don’t want to.” 

Sensing he needed more ease, you scratched your nails along his scalp but the shudder he let out was strong. “What do you need? From me, right now?” 

Hands rough along your hips as he started running them up and down, you could feel his heart beating fast against your chest. One of his hands slid back, grasping one of the cheeks of your ass tightly while his mouth slid up to ear your. “What I need, is for you to be a good girl for me tonight. Can you do that?” 

He knew he had you by the hitch your breathe and how much tighter your nails dug into him at his own touch against you. It was unseemly just how quickly Robb could unravel everything that made you stoic, and quietly intimidating to those under you when he got you alone like this. He could make your body buzz with need only to be quenched as he told you what to do. It was just unfair how easily be had you so freely wanting to submit to him. 

Pulling away to look him his eyes you nodded at him yes. “Good.” Moving back, Robb sat at the edge of the bed. Legs spread and nodding for you to knee before him. Trying to keep your breathe even as he once more ran his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly before moving his hand away to grasp at your jaw. “Pull me out.” 

Your eyes and hands as focused as they were undoing his armour only this time you felt the wetness between your legs increase as you tugged his pants down just enough to grasp at his cock. Already hard, it was thick in your hand as you freed him and shuffled closer. Robb slid his hand to the back of your head. “You want to please me? Make your husband feel better?” Your hand tightened around his length more firmly as he spoke as if unaffected by your touch. “Suck my cock.” 

Pulling you closer to him, your eyes slid shut as you gently took the leaking tip of his cock into your mouth. Not pushing you to take more, just letting you slowly adjust to how much he would start stretching your lips open the deeper you would take him. The saliva gathering quickly and mixing with what bit of precum was already there he held you until he was confident your mouth was more then ready to soak his cock. 

The tiny sigh you let out as he slid deeper, his cock heavy on your tongue as you tasted him. Once he started pushing you down, you knew he’d push as far as you could take it. Which by now, was far more then the first time you ever took him in your mouth. He had trained your mouth well. 

Just as he teased your gag reflex, Robb loosened his grip letting you pull back on your own. He kept his touch to the back of your head but let you bob up and down his cock. Your thighs pressing together as you let him fill your mouth, the bit of saliva trailing from the side of your lips only increasing the more you ran your tongue over his length.

Your hands braced against his thighs, Robb moving to give you more space as he let out a groan, his head falling back, eyes sliding shut at the feeling. You sucked him eagerly like you couldn’t get enough and maybe that was exactly the case. Taking him as deep as you could handle, your face pressed up against the coarse hair around his cock before Robb pulled you off completely, you gasping for hair as he held you close enough to see the mix of saliva and his own seed drop from your lips. Yanking you to look up at him, he was breathing harsher and his teeth gritting together. “Can you take more?” 

Nodding your head, Robb smiled like a man on the hunt and you were just ripe for the attack. “Anything,” 

Almost hissing at the words, Robb coaxed you forward feeding you more of his cock once more now that you had caught your breathe. “Is that so? You going to let me do anything to you? Whatever I want?” You hummed against his cock, the need between your own legs growing in desire. “Let me fill your mouth like a pretty little whore, and then I’ll show you what I really want.”  

Robbs words rough but they blocked out everything beyond his sound and touch and taste. He throbbed in your mouth as you sucked his cock before pushing you down to once more brush against the hair at his base. “Fuck- oh good girl,” 

His hand in your hair loosening as he let go, cumming in your mouth and caressing you through how much he was giving you. His cum warm and thick that made him hard to swallow down when he held you so close, but he spilled all down your throat as you moaned around him. His mouth running as much as his cock spilled inside you, “Swallow all of me, my love. That’s right, just like a good little slut.” 

When he finally finished, he slowly pulled you off his cock. Wasting no time, he pulled you to sit up and straddle his lap as he kissed your lips. No shame in being able to taste himself on your tongue you leaned into his chest. Robb running a hand all through your hair, making a tangled mess of things as you begun kissing down his jaw and neck. 

Him how shivering at your touch, you had learned he wanted you to be rough with him when he was with you. Nights like tonight, he was a wolf who wanted you to play. 

Biting at the skin you could already feel him growing hard again, your lips licking and pressing a kiss to each mark you made, sinking lower and lower as you could to leave them along his collarbone. He watched you with hooded eyes, lips still parted as he tried desperately to control himself and failing. 

Pulling you up to look him in the eyes, Robb trailed his hand down between your legs and just as he teased the idea of easing you into it, he pushed two thick fingers inside of you down to the knuckles. A loud cry leaving your mouth as he did nothing to stop you from it. Only fucking you with them at a far faster pace then was kind, and you couldn’t get enough of it. 

How he played you like an instrument and the sounds were your moans and pleas of his name, and the sound of how wet you had become as he touched you. Your insides tightening quickly, far faster then it took you to bring him to the edge. “Sucking my cock get you this worked up?” 

Catching your eye as he fisted your hair tighter, your hands digging into his shoulders to keep yourself steady. “Yes, yes, it did. You always do,” Your voice so light and breathless as it faded into another cry as his thumb brushed your clit. “Make me feel so good, every part of you.” 

Gods help you when Robb found the moods to tease you about the way you sound, even worse when he reminds you that there is every single chance that his men have heard you. Their head strong Queen in the North who begs and cries for her King’s cock in the night. Maybe it was a good thing Theon was to leave for a while, you certainly knew he had been stockpiling that material to make fun of you with in private. 

You wanted to bury your face in the neck you just marked up, but he refused. Forcing you back to watch you, like keeping you at a distance as he touched you was just another ploy to make you melt. “Cum for me, soak my hand like a good girl and I’ll fuck you full of my cock. Is that what you want?” 

Through almost painful cries as he pushed you closer to the edge, you shook your head. Robb asking in such a sweetly mocking tone what it was you wanted then. “To please you, I oh fuck- please use me however you want, that's what I want, I promise,” 

Smiling in such a dark, dominating manner he leaned to brush his lips against yours. “That’s right, you’re here to please me like the needy slut you are.” Pressing his lips in a light kiss be rubbed tightly against your clit as you came around his fingers. Shaking in his hold as he kept you in place, watching your eyes struggle to even stay open. 

You had barley even started to come down before Robb moved, pushing you face down onto the bed before yanking your hips up in the hair. You suspect if he weren’t so worked up, he may have made you beg to fuck you, but before you even came down from your own orgasm he pushed inside of you. The stinging stretch still came with every time he fucked you, but you clenched around him as the aftershocks of pleasure came back to spike into your core again. 

Pushing his hips hard to fill you completely, you cried out his name as Robb grit his teeth and held you so tight you’d be bruised come morning. Whispering almost just to himself in wonder, “Fuck you’re still coming down,” He held you tighter before pulling back and thrusting inside of you once more. 

The pace he set fast and greedy, your hands clenching the sheets below you as you made no sounds that contained words other then, “Fuck”, “please,” or “Robb”. His cock pounding inside of you right against that sensitive wall that took away the rest of the air in your lungs. You felt like he could ask you to say, admit, or do anything when you were fucked like this and you wouldn’t think twice.

One hand ran down your spine before once more tangling in your hair as he held your head into the sheets, leveraging himself to fuck you with rougher thrusts. The need inside of you coiling so tightly that you could feel yourself getting more wet around his length. “Do you want to cum for me? Be a good little whore and cum all over my cock just so I’ll spill inside you?” Nodding as best you could he knew that you were falling deeper. His hand more gentle around your hair before sliding around to your neck and pulling you gently up as he thrusted slow but hard. “You always want my cum don’t you?” 

“Always, Robb, always. Please, gods my love, I need you.” 

Oh did that ever do Robb in, fucking into you with little regard for any rhythm as he spoke low over the delicious sounds of his hips slapping against your ass. “I need you too, I always fucking need you,” Gasping into the sheets you felt the coil snap and the pleasure burned right through you and tensing every muscle. Clenching around him hard, Robb lost his final sense of control, pushing inside deeply as he spilled inside of you.  

You felt light headed, floating in bed as he slowly pulled out of you. For a split moment when you couldn’t feel him at all, you fisted the sheets below you tightly almost anxiety bubbling in your chest at the lack of touch. Before you felt him cover your back, turning you to your side as he pulled your sweaty hair off of your face, kissing gently below your ear. His voice soothing you back to earth gently as you felt the haze doze off. 

Relaxing in his arms, you reached behind you to run your hand through his hair. Robb capturing you hand to press a kiss to your palm before sending it on it’s way, your name on his lips gentle in your ear “Talk to me, are you alright?” You nodded, and he wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you back closer. “I didn’t push you too hard?” 

For all the rough touches and growling words Robb quickly learned that he didn’t feel relaxed after fucking you until he checked in. Making sure he didn’t go too roughly or was too strict with you. Shaking your head no he ran his nose over your cheek before relaxing behind you. 

It was quiet between you for a while before a question popped in your head. “Robb, why send your mother and not one of the other lords?” 

His voice was low and rumbling in your ear, not near sleep as you were but content to lay with you nonetheless. “I’ve known her my whole life, I trust her.” There was a pause before a tiny hint of a cheeky tone peeked through. “She’s also the least intimidating out of this lot. You really think Renly would respond well to someone like Roose or Maege?”

You both laughed in the others arms, “You have a point. A hundred thousand men and yet I don’t think any of them would be as tough as your mother is.” Once the Starks made you one of their own, it seemed like being a wolf is the inevitable outcome. 

What caught your attention just as you begun to drift off, was the way that no words or noise made from Robb in anyway occurred. His hand running up and down your side and yet as if obediently following a spoken order, Grey Wind made his way into the tent. His large frame circling around like any small dog before settling close by the bed. 

Robb’s hand had stopped moving as Grey Wind had done so, and only started up once the direwolf was inside and settling down for the night. To sleepy to focus on it, you let it slip your mind. 

The camp was in a hustle as they all prepared to move out, with the bulk of Tywin’s forces moving in on Harrenhal, it left pockets of lesser forces in the open. Robb determining they would be easy to wipe through, especially in the dead of night. Something, the Lannister forces had yet to catch on that it may be something to watch for. 

It was still quite early, the sun barley even awake as you made your way through the camp. Your eyes sharp, only softening a bit to nod at those giving a slight bow and “your grace” as you passed. Coming to one specific cell near the back, sat a face you wished you weren’t so familiar with. 

Ser Jaime Lannister, Kingslayer. As your father’s raven had so described him. Covered in filth and tied to a wooden pole, he didn’t look quite as fierce as his reputation proceeded. The guard opening the gate as you approached, obeying the nod of your head to step back for a moment to give you space with him. His mouth it seemed, was still working just fine. 

“I’m a lucky man, a visit from our dear Queen in the North so early in the morning.” Stepping inside, you felt the shiver of cold morning air that you could at least depend on going the more south you travelled today. “I can’t quite tell, is it just spending what? Months being dragged around by this ugly lot, or has leadership made you that much more ravishing.” You stared down as unmoving and unamused as ever before he dramatically rolled his eyes. “Still have your father’s charm I see.” 

Your arms crossing over your chest, voice as flat as could be. “I’d ask how you were fairing, but I think we both how little your answer would change anything.” Looking down at him, you still could see the same smug face that had mocked you and Lord Stark mere moments before a spear was shoved through his leg. “You had a late chat with the King last night, did you not?” 

“We did, hope that didn’t interfere with your plans too much. Though I suppose it didn’t, your husband doesn’t seem too bothered about anyone hearing you does he?” You only looked down at him, eyebrows raised as if to tell him if he has a point, to get to it. “Seems like a jealous man, making sure every man here knows what he does to you at night, just to mock them that it’s not them who gets it.” 

Stepping forward you marched right past his words. “Curiously, it seems like you did nothing but deny such allegations against you.” The pause in his face did in fact, stand out. “Odd because when Ned Stark approached your sister with the same, she sung like a bird. Told him all about how you were born together, so you belong together.” 

Something almost uncomfortable came over his face, for once, you found that hard to read. He was a hard man to read most of the time even past his words. “I assure you, my sister does an awful lot of talking and most of the time people just don’t seem to know when she’s lying.” 

“You also confessed to Lady Catelyn.” You also know a rough looking scar across his face was from a rock she hit him with. Even now, it made you proud that it looked like it must have hurt. “Told her the truth, told her how it was you who pushed her ten year old son out a window.” 

As if unable to find words, he just scrunched his face up in dismissal. “And?” 

Now that got a tiny smirk from you. Stepping closer once more, your eyes flickered to where his legs were spread. How easily he could kick you from here, but you were well aware he couldn’t get anywhere past those chains. “You push a child from a window beacuse he saw you with the Queen. You don’t deny pushing him, you don’t deny that you fucked her and yet when faced with the same thing you deny it to Robb Stark’s face. I’m just curious of the change of heart.” 

His eyes narrowed at you, both playing a game trying to read the other only it was a competition between two experts in such a matter. You hid in plain sight as well as he did, only with slightly less bloodshed and betrayals on your side of the river. “Tell me, would you confess your sins to him in my position?” 

Crouching down in front of him, you took no thought in how much you actually knew you should keep your distance. “Tell me, Lannister. What sins have I committed that you think puts me at your level?” 

He was quiet for a moment, but when he spoke, it was soft. Almost like a genuine question as something not as sinister sat behind his green eyes. “It’s not easy, keeping that sort of thing to yourself is it? No matter what your heart screams at you, the other part of you knows its far safer to keep it locked away. Don’t think about it if you don’t have to, and maybe it won’t eat away at you in guilt.” 

You stayed silent, watching him with a narrowed brow as he dumped it on you like a bucket of freezing water. “How close did you get? To giving yourself to him?” For all the pounding of your heart, you stayed as unmoving as a statue. “I wondered if you had at first, the way he looked at you, how you tried not to look back. Would have been easy I imagine. You spent so much time in the North, you both probably know just where to go to not get caught.” 

You shoved his face out of your mind. You made your choice, in mind and heart. And you don’t regret making that choice at all. Just let him play his game, he wouldn’t do anything more then say it to you. Hard to tell if he didn’t have any interest in playing the game of whispers as so many in Kings Landing did, or he just didn’t have the patience to try. “Next time I give myself to my husband for the first time I’ll be sure to invite you to witness the evidence first hand.” 

“He came close though. Very close. A man doesn’t look at a woman the way he did if he’s never been anywhere near close to fucking her.” Jaime leaned his head back against the post, almost resting casually like a chat between friends. “You wouldn’t let it get that far, though. Considering who you are, and who he is, or was should I say. Afterall you can’t get much further away from you then all the way up there.” 

It was hard to push him back out of your mind, the memory was clear. Most of your time with him as so clear you could reach out and brush your fingertips against it. But to do so, was to acknowledge what you wished would go away. Find a life that wasn’t marred in secrets of the heart. For a second you looked away, to the ground of nothing as a gear turned in your mind. 

If you didn’t admit the truth, you could pretend it wasn’t real. Meeting his eyes back with a curious scrutiny, you begun to suspect the same for him. Only you weren’t trying to make your way back to that life, you had made your peace with it and chose a future that could want you freely. 

You suspected Jaime Lannister however, didn’t have such a person in his life to give him that chance. 

In the quiet between you, keen ears begun to reach out to listen. The longer you spoke with him, the more that concern of you, perhaps the jealousy making it grow begun to take hold. Only the closer he got to the edges of the cage, the less anyone suspected. 

“It’s a shame. Tommen and Myrcella are good kids, maybe no one would quite have cared if your third didn’t turn out the way he did.” He had little to say, as you leaned in. “But the worse he gets, the louder those rumours are going to become. Best gets used to hearing them thrown at you, I won’t be the last.” 

As if something inside changed, he glanced over you. “Stark must be relieved you didn’t inherit your fathers looks along with his joyless personality.” Your face fell far more flat and whole unimpressed at his mocking. “Can’t imagine armour that dark or sleek looks good on any Baratheon, some dead ancestor of yours must have done the gods work to skip past all those brothers to land on you.” 

“I’ve seen enough of your family to know that most of your cousins weren’t blessed with the same looks.” 

The sheer confidence in him, to many times in Kings Landing had you spoken to him as he held such a high opinion, dangling it around like a marionette everyone should gawk and awe at. “Did I lose my hearing along with my freedom, or did the Queen in the North just give me a compliment?” 

Now this was a game you’ve played before, but with far more likeable and non condescending bantering partners. “I’m dull, not blind.” 

As he was cracking a smile, you heard the pattering of feed behind you curiously. “No, not when you’ve spent your life around Starks like that.” Nodding to the distance of nothing in particular. “You know, we aren’t actually related.” 

The steps grew behind you with no sound but them reaching you as the man spoke. “I always thought you’d be a bore in bed, but now I can’t help but be curious what kind of she wolf Stark has turned you into underneath all that.” 

In a second, a large figure leaped in beside you just as you stood to your full height. Grey Wind beside you in an aggressive display growling at him, Jaime leaning back with his eyes almost squeezed shut before you reached a hand out. Grasping onto the fur along the direwolf’s back ,Grey Wind backed off in a second. Standing large a foot out in front of you still, until you eyed the Lannister once more and turned away. 

Grey Wind took a moment before he too turned, and as he followed you along the way, you noted that he seemed much more like himself then moments before. Yet still followed you the way he only did for Robb. 

You didn’t clue in when later in the day, Robb had glanced in the direction of the cage Jaime was in as he pulled you into him with dark eyes and a greed in his voice that had your heart pumping a big harder. “If he speaks to you like that again, I’ll drag him into our tent and make him watch me take you apart until the sun rises.” 

It was a frustrating point the ride out, waiting on Theon about the Iron Islanders, waiting to hear on Renly. If they both said no, you and Robb would handle it but it was the in between times on horseback where you could see in the far off look in those bright blue eyes that spoke it. The frustration of trying to find just who your true allies were as so far the entire weight of this war rested on him alone. 

For all the talk of kings and armies, the only one who had the strength and ability to fight this war so far, was Robb. The only one posing a threat, even despite all the talk that he was young and over eager as the Lannisters continued to lose out. 

As unsure of his abilities as a King were in private, looking to him in those moments you saw nothing but what a real King is made of. Like Robb was not aware of the degree that his own men worshipped him. They chose him, and yet not once did he let any hubris take hold of that fact. 

Robb held his kingship like a weight that would sink him at any splash, and you couldn’t help but see something you had not watched in a King as long as you were alive. There were many claims of kings in this realm now, and perhaps it was your own bias, your own love that spoke of such an opinion. 

But the only one you could say had the strength of a man that makes him worthy of King, was the man next to you. Jaime Lannister had a point in some, but you had done what he refused to do. Chose a life, taken a path that would lead you to where you truly were supposed to be. 

And the way Robb looked at you back, and the way his men never looked at you as less then? It was hard to image yourself in this life that didn’t bring you to here and now. 

That confidence in the day however, wasn’t the same confidence that danced in your dreams once the sun went down. In the dark of nights, fast asleep was when the dreams of cold and ice came to you, ones that filled you with a fear you didn’t even think was yours. 

You told no one of the night you dreamt of that tall figure, of the cries of a newborn baby and the striking eyes so blue they felt not of this earth and how those eyes carried away those infants cries into the darkness before you awoke. 

Nor did you know why in the few seconds between waking from such a dream, to falling back asleep, did you think of Jon. 

[bonkbobl]

make a deal or play a game

ROOSE BOLTON X READER

a/n: guys im gonna be so fr with yall i legitimately dont know where this energy came from but here you go. this contains possibly the longest sex scene i've ever written in my entire history of fic writing and i did get a little carried away. like a little more than carried away. the keys just dont stop click clacking

summary: You find out Roose has been plotting against your King but you know the Northern cause cannot survive with the North divided between the King's loyalists and a Bolton-Karstark army backing their martyred liege lords. You and Lord Bolton need each other more than either of you would care to admit, grasping for power over each other.

warning: DUBCON!!!! as in the dubbiest of cons, power dynamics, forced marriage, roose bolton is secretly a perverted old man, EDGING like a LOT OF EDGING, wet humping??/thigh fucking, dacyrphilia, wait girl he's literally like obsessed with you eeeeeeeee

You were always Robb Starks most trusted advisor, and who was to question why. A ward, offered by one of the Starks most loyal vassal houses for the honor of have you join their family as a ward. Your father practically begged them to raise you when your Lady Mother succumbed to the failed birthing of your baby brother. He hoped one day you may reach a higher station that you'd have been afforded, and how better to reach that than through the Starks. Your father shared a great great, a few times over, great grand parent with Ned, and ever honorable, the Lord Stark agreed to take you in.

But its difficult for a woman to rise up in the world, even harder still, in the midst of a war. Men did not like to make room for women at war but Robb was like your brother. He trusted you. And he trusted your opinion on people. It's because while the Starks held that honor must be of paramount importance, you understood not everyone held that same principle. You make sure Robb doesn't trust everyone as he trusts you.

Trust is a funny thing because you could trust someone with your life but you may not trust them to cook a chicken correctly. You may trust someone to lead a garrison of ten thousand for you and not trust them with a knife in close quarters without a guard behind you. Trust was what you dealt in — advising Robb on deals that he was to make with other Lords, even so far as traveling on his behalf.

Deals, and diplomacy — charms, and words. That was your strength.

Robb Stark insisted that Catelyn take you to the twins to aid in negotiations with Walder Frey, he deferred to you to send letters to Renly and Stannis Baratheon, you were even the one who had sent out the rallying cry at the very beginning of his great war to all his Bannermen. Everyone knew it. He was the brain, you were the mouth. The pretty, cunning, biting mouth of the young wolf.

—————

One issue you were never able to resolve was Roose Bolton. He was cold, calculating, and distant. Though he seemed to care deeply for the Northern cause, you had little to believe he was truly as passionate about Robb as King.

It began with certain issues in which you would honestly take Roose's side instead of Robb's and since you saw Roose as an ideological ally, you would shoot glances at him after Robb declared he'd have his way after all. In those moments, a bitter gaze that lingered a few seconds too long on the King in the North roused suspicion in you.

It wasn't serious. You're sure its the frustration than anyone would feel being brushed aside so many times. But as the social tension within Robbs camp rose, you felt that you must do something about it.

You don't trust Walder Frey. He wouldn't so easily brush aside a slight as heavy as the King in the North refusing his daughter's hand in marriage. He wouldn't trade it so carelessly, not even for a claim in the Riverlands. The fact was that a young boy had made him a promise and quickly threw it all away the moment he got what he needed.

Frey's resentment of all the Paramount liege lords in Westeros already made any alliance between you fragile. Compound it with more insult and well, you just didn't know what you expected from this.

So when you saw a rave flying even in the general direction of the twins, you shot it down.

The Bolton seal, you noted, as you inspected the short scroll.

Tomorrow the white sun will illuminate the darkness clouding your castle. We will dine on fishes and the hour of the wolf will drown out in history. Ensure final preparations are made.

R.B.

As you read it, you could feel blood draining from your face and you really should have gone to Robb immediately but the need to find out what plot was brewing overtook reason. When the men were drinking and dining, you snuck into Roose Bolton's tent.

—————

"Letters, letters..." You muttered. You had already checked his desk but of course the man isn't dense enough to store proof of treachery in the drawer of a desk where any young squire may stumble upon them. So you were rifling through everything, casting aside bulks of chainmail, furs, coats, anything.

As you did, your mind ran endlessly about what might happen. So the Boltons and the Freys. Eliminate them and you're forced to then castrate your own army. We were already outnumbered greatly. Losing the Boltons is a blow we may not survive even if we survive this bloody wedding.

And the reference to the white sun illuminating the darkness was not so easily lost on you. You weren't sure, but coupled with the rising tensions with the Karstark men who currently stood one third of Robb's entire army, you could take a gander to why the white sun of their sigil was mentioned in Roose Bolton's death letter.

"Looking for something?"

Roose's voice cut clear through the room, it even felt like it sliced right through your heart. Well die tonight or die tomorrow night it makes no difference to you. But it makes all the difference to the North.

You should have gone to Robb first. Your foolishness.

You straightened up and flattened the blankets on his cot down. "Just tidying up. Waiting for you, my lord," And you took a deep breath, braving a sultry look on your face before turning around.

"Me?" Roose asked, pure amusement in his voice. You'd have to work to really get him to believe you.

"All this talk of weddings, it's all I hear now. Everyone, everywhere," You hoped your hesitation wasn't visible as you draped your arms around Roose's neck and stared into his eyes.

"And why are you here, my lady, waiting for me."

You sighed, careful not to drop the ruse. Of all men why did it have to be Roose Bolton. Any other man, after not touching a woman for years, wouldn't have questioned the logic of your seduction and you'd at least have a chance to hit him over the head with a lantern, maybe a knife if you're lucky. But Roose hed his gaze with you evenly. Challenging you.

How to get him to trust you...

"Isn't it obvious?" You tilted your head, staring with the biggest pleading eyes you could muster. And you looked at his lips, just a moment of hesitation overtaking you before you leaned in and slowly molded your mouth to his.

Your heart went wild as he kissed you back, a mix of emotions forming. You were still scared for your life but you were also happy that your trick seemed to be working. And under the two dominant emotions, there was a slight hint of something else at play. You chalked up to the scandalousness of it all. It wasn't your main worry, but as a proper lady you were raised to not be caught in close quarters with another unmarried man, especially if you were doing salacious things — or if it looked like you were about to. It was also the first time you'd ever kissed a man.

Not the greatest conditions, but alas, you could care less about a tender kiss or even a few. You just need a distraction and its working. Roose kissed you back so fiercly it made you dizzy. So dizzying that you hadn't realized he reached into your pockets.

When the kiss broke, you stared up at him, his face composed and hard as stone, almost as if it hadn't affected him at all. But his lips were swollen and he stared at you, eyes betraying him to look down at your equally puffy lips and you smirked.

You made sure to hold his gaze and you let your hand trail down his front, teasing just above his crotch. "Celebrate the happy betrothal with me?"

Roose cracked a smile and nodded, a sarcastic hum rumbling from him, "Your nerves give you away, my lady." Your heart sank. "You quiver like a virgin playing at being a whore. It was almost convincing, but..." He held up the letter that you had stolen from the raven.

You let the dread overtake your face and you ran.

But you couldn't even make two steps before Roose pulled you by your wrist, back into his chest.

You struggled for a few seconds but stilled as soon as you felt cool metal under your chin.

"A deal," You spoke quickly, equally as quickly deciding you really didn't like the feeling of a cold blade pressing against the neck, that you very much did like.

"A deal?" Roose breathed the question into your ear. He was so obviously not scared or even wary of you. And you scrambled to keep the upper hand.

"I could always scream instead. You could kill me, make some excuse to cover yourself up, but that excuse wont pass, not for our King's childhood friend. You could run. You'd be dead within the fortnight if they caught you." You hoped that you weren't just spewing bullshit, "The camp is so dense. How likely are you to make it to Frey before one of Robbs catches you first? And your plan would fail. Robb would know something's wrong."

He was permitting you to continue, so you did. He wasn't so much as urging you to continue but rather, watching, knowing you would.

"I could offer your head to our king. But I imagine you wouldn't enjoy that very much. So many options but I propose the best one — you could turn on Frey, tell Robb. Warn him about Karstark, too. Wouldn't you much rather become the new Lord of the Twins than deal with a petty mess?"

Roose considered it for a couple seconds before releasing you. You're right that making you disappear would be a little more annoying that simply a petty mess. He knows he can't just let you go either. He doesn't trust you.

Whats to stop you from running to tell Robb as soon as he let you go anyway? Then he remembers that his soldiers make up the largest portion of Robb Starks army aside from the Karstarks. And that there was his leverage. That's why you were trying to reason with him. Which really means, despite everything, he could even go as far to say that he's the one with the upper hand in this situation.

You, apparently unwilling to inform Robb of his treachery, asking him to warn your King and continue to fight by his side, all you had was a secret that only the two people in this room know. Not a very good hand. You don't even have proof anymore. Roose walked over to his bed, pulling a stack of letters out from a slit in the mattress.

You sighed, kicking yourself. You were so close. And you watched him, walking to the fire at the foot of his bed with his eyes trained on you. You watched helplessly hope was scorched in the flames.

Your heart was pounding out of your chest and only now had you permitted yourself to notice it. Sitting at the edge of his bed, You wiped your forehead.

Roose chuckled. Clever girl, weighing logic and strategy, no trouble following the shifting power between you two. You knew you needed him. You knew Robb needed him. You knew the odds of winning this war was slim already now that the Tyrells had joined the fray. You knew if you gave him a reason, he might slit your little throat tonight. And sure that meant Robb might get the hint not to attend the wedding, but the Northern army would still be crushed within half a year.

And perhaps you valued that pretty little head of yours above all else.

Now, Roose took interest, evaluating you with a new eye, "What is your proposal?"

"You go, tell Robb of the plans but tell him you intended on being a turncoat this entire time."

"And what do I receive in exchange for this act of mercy."

You chuckled, "My many thanks, redemption in the eyes of the Gods," you offered sardonically, knowing the answer would come as too dismissive. You could tell Roose wasn't impresssed, "I can still tell the King, my lord, if it pleases you.

Roose, ever perplexed by your mind, drew closer but stowed his knife back in his holster, behind him. He made it so that you had to tilt your head up to look at him. "Do not think for a second that you might have the upper hand in this position, my lady. I say that, not as a threat, but as advice. Know when you do not have the upper hand. Know when to serve."

You glared up at him, scanning his eyes, baffled by his audacity. You are— "I am a—"

"Stark Ward. But not a Stark. If you go to Robb, you have no proof. I might have my own story. You and Greyjoy, bitter that you'd never truly be accepted into the Stark family plotted the demise of the King in the North, who I so faithfully served up until now. There is no reason for Robb to view me with less trust than you... The King may grow weary with paranoia. First his brother... then he doesn't know to trust his closest advisor or his sister. "

"But you---"

"I am guilty. And you have no evidence. You are asking for a favor. Tell me, what difference does it make if the King dies tomorrow or three months later on the Battlefield without my men to back him." he questioned, enunciating each word clearly, staring down at you.

You cursed yourself for sitting. The scare was not over, you should have realized. Even if the cold blade was no longer physically at your neck, Roose Bolton still had a knife to you.

"What do you want?"

He chuckled, "One day I will have a need for you. And that day, you will obey. You owe me your life, my lady. And the King's life."

You glared at the ground, wishing you could say something of his arrogance, "And Robb?"

"I will tell him of the plans. And you will not tell him the truth. Any time you think you want to tell the young wolf what we discussed in these chambers remember that it is your pretty neck and your reputation that may be in my hands." Roose gave you one last look, then whispered, "Go on now. Back to your tent."

You stood, meeting him with one last glare.

He smiled sweetly at you, nodding, "I thoroughly enjoyed the display."

—————

Your promise to Roose Bolton loomed over you every day for a month. You spent your days watching his actions closely to know when he was plotting anything, but he's yet to step blatantly out of turn.

He was showered with honors for being savior at the Red Wedding, not only becoming the official Lord presiding over the Twins, but he was given a large portion of the remaining Karstark forces, which thankfully very few deserted the King in the North after the victory at the Twins. Roose sent his Bastard to serve in his stead at Karhold, which was now under close surveillance for their treachery.

You paled to hear these developments. Because in truth you still failed to trust Roose Bolton though you hoped these gifts from the King in the North sweetened the pot enough for him to follow through with his promise to you. You simply shivered at the obscene amount of power that was showered to him.

So long as he retained the upper hand you would continue to be unsettled. You wish he would just tell you what he wants from you quickly so that you may get it over with. Really, something you think he just enjoys watching you squirm.

"Milk of the Poppy," Talisa said calmly.

And you moved to argue with your queen but hearing the screams of agony of the man being tended you, you decided there was a time and place.

The queen finished up with him quickly and turned back to you. That's when you started, "My Queen, I'm sure you're tired of hearing. And I, more than anyone else here understand your concern for the wellbeing of unnamed Lannister boy-soldiers."

Talisa, laughed, ducking her head in preparation for your words.

"But truly... Milk of the Poppy?" You pleaded, "I know it may seem cruel but it's really more of a luxury in wartime than anything. Perhaps that can be saved for the men fighting for our King."

Your queen met your eyes again but then at something behind you. Turning, you saw Roose speaking with Robb. Robb glanced at you, spoke something back to the Dreadlord and patted his arm before making his way to you. Roose spared you a glance before walking in the other direction, toward his tent.

"I'll take your words into consideration, my lady," Talisa reassured, "I understand. Thank you for stating your opinion calmly and without judgement."

You smiled in sympathy, knowing the men in the army could be quite rough around the edges with their opinions.

Talisa started again, taking some time to gather her tools "My husband is coming. I think he wants to speak with you."

Robb came up to the two of you, placing a hand on the small of Talisa's back, pressing a kiss to her cheek and whispering something short in her ear.

"I'll leave you to it then," Talisa said sweetly and left to find more sick to tend to.

As soon as she did, Robb's features were cast with a stern seriousness. You evaluated it, wondering if it had anything to do with Roose Bolton's conversation with him just moments before.

"What is it?" You asked.

Robb sighed, "You don't have to agree. You can think on it for a while. I know it can be daunting seeing as I'm almost sure he's older than father."

"What is it?" You pressed urgently.

"Roose Bolton asked for my blessing to take your hand in marriage."

Your heart sank, the full weight of the deal you made with Roose falling on your shoulders.

"I gave him my blessing as I have no reason not to. But I warned him that I cannot force you to be amenable." With a laugh, Robb tried to cheer you up but to no avail, "I even warned him you shared Arya's disdain for marriage from a young age."

You simply nodded, expressionless and quickly muttered something to dismiss yourself and you ran straight for Roose Bolton's tent.

—————

The route to Roose's tent felt quick, like you had stormed off from Robb and landed right at his door. Your anger bubbled at your throat and you could hardly wait before storming in and yelling at the man sat at his desk.

"So that's it?" You asked, bewildered, "That's how you aim to make me repay my debt?"

Roose didn't even look up at you as he continued to write on a small strip of parchment. "It seems with my sudden acquisition of the Twins, even if I legitimize my bastard, it will not be enough to sustain my achievements. I'm in dire need of heirs. You owe me a favor."

You were speechless for a second and you felt a laugh be punch out of your chest, the mere ridiculousness — the scale of this favor. "A favor, my lord, usually doesn't include a lifelong bind. A favor, I would imagine is a one and done type of deal." Marching to the side of his table, you attempted to command his attention, "Was the twins not enough? Was having your bastard installed as acting Lord of Karhold not enough?"

Roose looked up at you, calmly speaking. "I'd like to remind you, my lady, that had I not warned the King in the North of the Freys and Karstarks treachery, I'd have been named Warden of the North by the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."

Closing your mouth, you huffed, amazed by this mans blatant selfishness. Titles.

"The Twins, and temporary reign over the Karstark maneuvers pales in comparison to what I had abandoned."

"Well you our deal wasn't for me to make that loss up to you, it was so you could keep your head and remain loyal to King Robb." You shook your head, "I wont do it. If you're the pragmatic, power hungry man you claim to be, why don't you plot your way into some other lady's bed — someone who could give you another stronghold to place your seed upon? I'd just be a cow to breed, nothing else to gain from there"

"A pretty cow to breed with a respectful name and no brothers to take your family home. I'd say you're as good a match as any."

You gasped at his blatant disrespect, blood rising to your head, and you landed a firm slap to his face. You even went for seconds but he grabbed your wrist firmly. You tried to pull it away but he wouldn't let you.

"Of course, we'll have to do something about that temper of yours once we are wed," He warned, pulling you a little harshly — not too rough but enough to make you fall forward and catch yourself on his table. He stood, circling around the table, as casually as he could managed but he did adjust his jaw from the slap you landed on him. "Your spirit and smart mouth have done you well in the past but only when they are in company with your wits. Don't go losing those wits and getting yourself in trouble. As I'm sure you are aware, there are dangerous men lurking in times of war."

"Dangerous men like you," You pushed yourself off the table and faced him again, crossing your arms, "I owe you my life. What happens if I decide I'd rather die than marry you?"

"Then what will be protecting your King, if not your life?"

That took any retort out of your mouth, as this was not an avenue you'd expected him to take. You stuttered dumbly for a moment. "M-my King? What of him? They—... House Frey and the Karstarks have been dealt with. You—"

"I can still betray him. He trusts me now more than ever. If I write to Tywin Lannister detailing how the plan had been spoiled and I explain that I'd counted our losses and regained the trust of the King so that we may try again well, that'd be easy enough," He stared down at you and said the next part clearly, "You are the only thing stopping me from doing so. If you'd rather die..."

You shook your head at him, scowling. The entire North, dependent on what you say to this man. "I don't want to marry you," you stood your ground as well as you could, "Anything else, I'll do."

Roose looked to the ground next to you, "Well then," He sighed.

Then he glanced back at you, giving you a lazy once over.

He sighed again, this time more sure, straightening his back and that's when you knew he'd had an idea.

You didn't like him getting ideas. You don't like his mind and the thoughts he spins.

"Another deal. A game, more like."

You didn't trust the slight tinge of a smile. Really you just didn't trust or like this man. Every moment you're in his tent feels like a gamble. "What game?" You especially hate the idea of playing his games. Right into the bear trap, it felt like.

Where you excelled in proposing deals that suited the interests of both sides perfectly, the Boltons were infamous for creatively constructing games that were rigged from the start, in their favor.

"Part of it is that you have to figure out the rules," He smiled.

You should have known the odds were against you. They always were when it came to Roose Bolton. How does one negotiate with a man like him?

Your attention was drawn back to him when his hand came up to the pin that secured your cloak to your shoulders. He undid the on on the right, then the one on your left. And you could do nothing but watch it fall to the floor, heart racing, because suddenly you understood.

Why did you have to say "Anything"?

Of course... You watched him, his clenched jaw, barely holding back from just ripping your clothes off, and you realized: Roose Bolton is just like any other man. He only wants one thing. Married to you or not.

One and done, you wondered, Is that better?

He pulled the laces securing your dress in the front, watching his eyes greedily take in your chest as more of it was exposed. Soon, your dress hugged your waist and shoulders, barely covering your top half.

You smacked his hand away as it reached under the fabric draping at your shoulders.

The silent question in your eyes was What the fuck do you think you're doing?

Roose simply chuckled softly, “Letting me see your tits is not as bad as marrying me, is it, my lady?” Dark intentions coated his syrupy smooth voice and it made you shiver.

Breathing a long, angry sigh, you looked up at him, “I could just kill you.”

“Even if you managed, your king desperately needs Bolton men. They'll only follow a Bolton,” He spoke matter of factly, tugging your sleeves so they fell off your shoulders.

He's right. The Starks and the Boltons had no love for each other. Centuries of hate. Many Karstarks remained loyal to Robb because of the history of love between the houses. There was no such history between the Starks and Boltons.

The cool air hit your exposed skin. “Trust me,” Roose smiled satisfied with the sight before him, taking a firm handful of your breast, caressing over it and pinching the nipple as he let go, “You’d rather handle me than deal with my bastard.”

You shivered and took several steps back from him and his touch, and moved to cover your breasts with your hands as well as you could.

You’d definitely heard about his bastard. From what you knew, he was a more unhinged, less predictable version of Roose, more willing to get his hands dirty, more eager to act. You stood and let Roose’s eyes rake over your body, disgust bubbling at your throat.

“So conveniently, my best option is to either marry you or let you fuck me and ruin any marriage prospects in my future?”

“Who said anything about fucking?” Roose raised his brow, playing innocent, “I just want to see you, touch you... feel you touch me. I wont put anything inside your cunt unless you ask me to.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, you dont trust his mercy, especially the last clause. Unless you ask him to. Why in seven hells would you ask him to? “What do you want me to do?”

Roose smirked widely and the look should have terrified you — you’ve never seen such twisted joy on a persons face before, especially not stoic Roose Bolton.

He stepped closer to you once more, hands coming to cradle your face and neck gently. Your hands instinctively followed, grabbing his wrists cautiously. Though a hint of that devious smirk lingered, he looked at you with gentleness between his eyes, “Lets start with another kiss,” He said, condescension lacing his voice, “seeing as my lady was so eager the last time we saw each other.”

You couldnt help but fall a little under his spell, eyebrows furrowing as you tried to figure out why you felt dizzy with him so close to you, cold eyes darting all over your face. Why your mind whirred with the memory of how hungrily he responded to you last time you were in his tent. You wondered if perhaps you had sparked something in him. If that was why he was so insistent.

You nodded softly, so soft that upon thinking on it, you wondered if it was even noticable. But Roose had been watching you closely for any sign of submission and he closed the gap between you before you could move to do anything else.

He noted how you tensed just as his lips met yours and he carefully took your hands, guiding them to wrap around his neck. You tried to relax into it as much as possible and kiss him back, but it proved difficult until his arms came around and pulled you closer to him.

His bare hand on your back made you jolt and he chuckled deeply, the rumble of it making you shy away. "Roose," You started, unsure of what you would say. That you already need a break?

Roose ignored you, hands coming back up to cup your breasts, "Fucking gorgeous. And you've been right in front of me this entire time," He spoke so lowly you almost thought he was muttering to himself. But his eyes trained on you told you different.

He leaned down the few extra centimeters to meet your lips again, this time toying with your hardened buds as he did. Your hand shot up to grab his wrist but he just pinched in response. You squealed, lips parting from his but he kept you held close.

"Behave."

You whined, glaring at him, your dignity clinging to any sliver of hope it had of remaining intact.

Roose glared right back and took your hand, leading you toward his cot. He sat you on his lap and again, turned his attention toward your chest after kissing you a few times. This time, his lips wrapped around the bud on your right while his hand toyed with the other.

You tensed as a moan threatened to escape you, especially with his tongue circling around the way it did. When he sucked and continued that technique at the same time it was difficult not to enjoy. To be honest, you didn't even know a man could enjoy a woman's body like this — so shamelessly lewd. But he promised no penetration. You assume that means he deigns to make use of your body in any other way.

It was quickly proving to be too much. You grunted a few times when moans caught in your throat, gutteral noises and sighs to keep the really embarrassing noises down. But even that was wearing thin. Your hand shot up to his head and tugged at his hair. Your back arched into him, body twitching when he'd trigger a sensitive nerve.

And before you could stop it, you sighed something a little too audible, too close to a full moan. You began trying to push his head away.

Roose grabbed your hands firmly, pushing them away and gave you a small nip as a warning. You yelped, staring at him incredulously. Then he switched to your more neglected nipple.

This same torture continued for far too long, but the result was worse than the torture itself, because you couldn't deny the pool forming in your small cloths. The pleasure of him toying with your sensitive buds just goes straight down there. You can't help it.

"My lord, h-how much more."

"I'll play with you until I'm satisfied, darling," He answered cooly, "Don't ask again."

You nodded, looking at his intense, watchful eyes. And he crashed his lips on yours again. This time, he reached beneath all the heavy layers of your skirts and pulled your breeches down. You helped him kick them off.

When the pads of his finger met your cunt, they circled around in search but he cut his search off, chuckling at what he found. You pulled away from his lips, hiding in his shoulder because you already knew what he was laughing at.

"Look at my little whore. Never been touched like this, have you? You're going to let me ruin you for your King?"

You groaned, feeling his fingers gather your slick, then he found a bundle of nerves. It felt like when he was licking your nipples— the way it tingled down there— but he was touching the exact source of it. Sometimes you'd cross your legs or gyrate your hips against a pillow and feel the same way but Wow you always thought that sensation was coming from something deeper inside you. Turns out its right there. Right at the front of your vulva.

And Roose knew. You gripped his knee and spread your legs for him as he toyed with you in ways you hadn't even known to toy with yourself. Your lips fell open but you wouldn't allow a single sound to come out, though you knew this would be far more difficult to bear than what he was doing previously.

Your body would twitch and tense up under his ministrations. Something was building within you. You'd felt this kind of feeling, grinding against soft pillows, but then the feeling would die after a little while. You'd walk away satisfied with the morsel of pleasure.

But with Roose, it wasn't going anywhere. It kept building and building.

Eventually, you thought that perhaps an end to the build was near but he diverted his fingers, playing with your opening instead, gathering more slick.

You calmed yourself, taking a few breaths to calm yourself. You looked down to see Roose staring at you, eyes hooded with a dark cloud of lust, lips parted, just taking you in like you were the most interesting, captivating thing he's ever seen.

His finger teased your entrance, pushing slightly and you ripped your gaze away from his intense eyes, studying you. Gods... Oh gods. You rolled your hips but he pulled his hand away finally.

Roose wiped his hand on your skirt. "Do you like being touched by me?"

You refused to answer, turning your head and looking anywhere else. Weakly, you shook your head no.

"Don't lie," he scolded.

You forced yourself to meet his eyes, brows furrowed, confusion behind your eyes, wondering how your body could betray you like this. But its just biology. Simple as that.

"You came close."

"Close to what?"

That made Roose smirk wider, a twinge of surprise and excitement, "Close to a release that some women can achieve while fucking." Roose took a second to compose himself before continuing, "A release that you won't experience tonight, unless it's around my cock."

Fear filled you, "You said you wouldn't."

"No, I wont," Roose cooed, a false comfort, "Not until you ask."

"I wont."

"We'll see, darling," He moved his arms from you and nudged your behind a little, "Up. Take off your dress."

You stood and obeyed, albeit hesitantly. He also took to stripping himself, but left on his small clothes. You, having already rid yourself of your breeches, were bare as the day you were born once you took off your dress.

Roose, with a hand to your waist, pulled you into him, standing in between his legs and he pressed a kiss to your stomach, trailing down to your dripping cunt. You shuddered at the thought of his tongue circling around that spot the way it circled your nipple. You don't think you could bear that.

Unfortunately for you, that was exactly what Roose had in mind. He lifted your leg so that your foot rested on the edge of his bed, which sat low on the ground. It's height provided the perfect angle for him to duck under and lick a flat stripe over your clit.

Your cunt convulsed and you were embarrassed for it because unlike your moans, you could not hide the reactions of your cunt as easily. His tongue dipped a little further, barely dipping into your hole to taste you and collect your essence on his tongue.

He groaned into you, the vibration making you bite your lip. He feasted on you like a starved man, wrapping his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves and gently shaking his head as he sucked. Each time he flicked his tongue sent shocks through your body and you'd buck your hips against his face.

Even just the image that you were met with when you looked down— Roose Bolton burying his face into those parts...

If him licking your nipples was considered lewd, you didn't know how to describe this correctly. You hadn't even realized that men did this in the first place. Frankly it felt like something a man like Roose would normally consider to be too debasing and submissive.

There was nothing submissive about the way Roose licked up your juices. This was a man who was confident he held all the power and you'd be stupid to underestimate him.

Whines, real wanton whines pushed through your throat, filling the open air of his tent and that only seemed to spur him on. You submitted to it, feeling his hand come under your buttock and his other wrap around your waist. He then hoisted you up in the air and gently laid you down on the bed.

Roose not so gently spread your legs and settled between them, continuing his treatment on you.

Again the coil in your core tightened impossibly tight and just as you thought you'd reach some higher pleasure. He pulled away, peppering kisses to your thigh to calm you. You breathed heavily, staring at the ceiling.

This time, having him stop was frustrating. You cant lie. And you had a feeling you were in for a rather long night. Your hand twitched, almost wanting to give yourself the pleasure that he refused but you knew Roose would not let you. This was his game.

The game where you win if you steel through and manage to out last him.

You whimpered, legs quaking softly when he carefully bent and flicked his tongue against your clit again. Even, at this point, the feeling of his stubbled cheeks brushing your inner thigh was almost too sensitive to bear. Your body was responding to everything.

Soon you were bucking against his face, cursing the gods, and repeating the process again and again.

He learned what you liked quickly and tried everything under the sun. Dipping his tongue into you, he brought you just to the precipice of something amazing by fucking you with nothing but his mouth.

Once you had settled from the near high a fourth time, Roose pulled your body closer to him and through his lustblown eyes. He whispered to you as his fingers came to tease your entrance again, "May I?"

You looked down at him, biting your lip and you wanted to say yes. Your entire being begged for it. But your pride told you to say, "Do I have a choice?"

He merely chuckled at the loss of any desire to argue within you, and he plunged two thick fingers into your cunt. You cried out, the stretch somewhat shocking to you. But you were so wet that it really just felt nice, despite being foreign.

The noise you made was something you didn't even think could be produced within you. You moved to cover your face, laughing into them neverously because holy shit you need to get a hold of yourself. You need to. You've never felt this weak in the hands of someone else.

His fingers filled you nicely but you dreaded to admit it wasn't enough. And you didn't like how stiff they felt inside you. Something softer might feel more like it belongs. something longer and thicker... Something like—

Roose growled and that noise brought you out of your trance. You stared at him for a second, his eyebrows knit together frustratedly. His fingers did their work inside your cunt while his mouth continued to torture your clit.

"Fuck! Ahhh... fuck fuck—" You groaned, gritting your teeth together as you tried to keep yourself up to watch him.

You breathlessly but sort of victoriously took note of his clear frustration. You were proving to be more stubborn than he bargained for, you assume. But he was persistent too. There was no mistaking who had the power here.

He groaned, pumping his fingers into you. It was difficult not to imagine how it would feel when you finally gave in to him. So he let you know, "Your cunt loves me, my lady. You feel it clenching around me. You're so desperate for more. All you have to do is ask."

"Eat shit," you choked out. You meant to say it more confidently, less weak and shuddery but it created the same effect within Roose as it would have either way.

His lips returned, doing only what garnered the strongest reactions from you. And you were tumbling back down the hill again.

Of course he stopped, again.

You needed more than a second to recover from that one. What was it? Five rounds of the same torture. Your body was sure to be feeling the effects of it. Your cunt continued to twitch around nothing after his fingers were unceremoniously pulled out.

You lay there, unable to do anything but watch him clean off his fingers with his mouth. And it was hot because he didn't necessarily make a show of it. Ever the practical man, he probably only used his mouth because it was the easiest, cleanest solution. But you'd never seen anything so salacious and wrong.

Well, you concede, perhaps its not wrong, just something you, again, wouldn't thought of doing. It made your hips wriggle involuntarily and your cunt clench around nothing again, missing his fingers stretching and making you feel a little closer to whole.

Roose made quick work, ridding himself of his breeches and shirt.

You barely had enough time to appreciate the defined lines of his body, toned, even at his age because he stayed active.

He's undeniably handsome. If he wasn't so evil you'd have jumped at the chance of marrying him. Even now, staring at him, the man in control of your pleasure, you wondered if being married to him would even be so bad.

And his cock... You glanced at it, then trained your eyes back on his icy gaze. He cant see you staring down there, he'll get the wrong idea like he's winning or something. But the image was burnt into your mind. You could end your suffering now and beg him to put it inside you. You could.

But then your pride jumped in and told you to stop acting a fool.

He climbed up the bed, staying to one side of you, then wrapped his arm under you, kissing you briefly. Very briefly. So briefly that when he pulled away, you felt trained to chase after his lips, expecting more. The very accidental admittance of submission was not lost on either of you, an approving chuckle leaving him as he flipped your body on its tummy.

He crawled over you, snaking a hand under your stomach to pull you up and your entire backside felt his bare skin upon it. You bit your lip to stop yourself from whimpering at that feeling alone, again your cunt whined and begged you to just give in. Its right there, hard and pressing against your ass.

It was dizzying, the entire experience. You'd been denied so many times.

"Remember the rules," he murmured in your ear before taking a small bite and kissing down it. "Keep your thighs tight. Until you're ready to spread them like the good little slut you are." And with that, he used his free hand to slip his cock between your damp thighs.

You'd been so stripped of any and all resistance that the dominant emotion filling you was pride at his praise, calling you a good little slut. Something so debasing shouldn't stir you this much.

You were shocked at the warmth, initially scared that he was trying to slip it inside your cunt without you noticing, but Roose stayed true to his word. He wasn't going to put it in unless you asked, unless got to the point of wanting to beg him to. That didn't mean he couldn't put it right next to the entrance to tempt you.

It took him all but two seconds to begin slowly thrusting into the crack of your thighs and you wondered if it was supposed to feel like anything for you because it felt really amazing.

It wasn't as intense as his lips on your cunt but it was more tempting. The head of his cock, when his hips would slap against your ass, would grind deliciously over your clit. You whimpered each time it happened. It was all so wet and warm down there, his cock doing nothing but spreading the mess between your thighs.

His hand came around you to grab your neck, pulling you up so that he could fuck your thighs, using you as leverage. Your cunt pulsed with desire again, wishing he'd angle his hips incorrectly on accident and it'd just slip inside.

Please just slip inside. Please, please. Please slip in.

"Fuck, Roose, It... Its so... please," You said without even thinking

A dark chuckle vibrated right next to your ear. He chewed your lobe and kissed the top of your jaw. "Tell me."

"I... mmm nothing, nothing. I..." You growled frustratedly, burrying your face in the pillow.

Tears pricked your eyes.

The frustration was really getting to you.

Five times denied.

Your hips met him, rolling back to make his thrusts easier and he growled, landing a firm smack to your buttock. You cried out into the pillow.

Having had enough of your muffled cries, Roose pulled you up, situating your neck in the crook of his arm and he hoisted you up to your knees, cock still pumping drenched between your thighs.

It was pure debauchery. Unadulterated debauchery. You felt dirty and you couldn't even bother to be embarrassed by it. You just wanted him to have an accident and slip in. But you knew Roose. You knew he was too careful.

You had to give in first.

Your heart sank, realizing this could go on for so much longer. If he really wanted to, he could release right now, between your thighs and toy with your body mercilessly until he's ready to try with his cock again. He could go on for much much longer than you could ever dream of.

Especially in this position, it was difficult not to imagine him spearing you, your walls clenching and welcoming him instead of your thighs.

Gods, the way he was just using your body. Any part of your body. You were dizzy with pleasure and longing.

“Roose just do it, you win. Fuck me, please,” You spoke through sobs. Frustrated tears trickled down your cheeks.

Roose slowed his movements but that only made your wanting worse. Your thighs literally quivered for him. He took one look at the tear streaks on your face, not having noticed the fact that you were fucking crying for his cock, since your face had just been buried in the pillows a second ago. Roose's heart nearly had a tender little lapse, but it instead, swelled his pride to see you so desperate.

He wiped your tears away with his free hand and kissed your cheek. He wasn't completely done toying with you. He had to make sure you understood what it meant to be fucked by him. Truly understood. “And take my lady’s maidenhead? Will any respectable man take you to be his bride then?”

Your heart sank deeper than it ever had, real dread filling you. You finally understood his play here.

“Of course, as an honorable man, It’d be my duty to inform them of your compromised purity. Tell them this little whore's been tainted.”

He'd riled you up this far. You thought naively that he simply wanted you to admit defeat that you desired him as much as he desired you before taking you passionately.

In reality he wasn't going to let you go even after you gave in. The second another lord comes along for your hand in marriage, Bolton will reveal this little tryst you've had.

This was his goal since the beginning.

Marriage to you has been his goal since the very beginning of this little parlay.

You whined, stomach twisting because your dignity has become a whispered scream within you, telling you not to give in. But your psychology, your biology, everything else was screaming for him. He wanted not just to fuck you but to own you.

Your thighs tightened and you grinded against his long shaft. Still in the weakest attempt to remain stubborn, you stuttered, “Just… only a little, my lord. Only the top part. If you must. But please dont put it all in. Not far enough to break the… m-my maidenhead.”

That was the moment both of you knew you lost. You'd say it was stubbornness. Maybe that's what it was. Maybe you just liked feeling helpless under him, knowing what was inevitable.

Roose reached down, the strain that his smirk had on his cheeks being felt against yours. You're happy he's happy. Truly, you are. It twists your stomach again. You think if your stomach twists again you'll just melt into Roose Bolton. Completely at his mercy.

You whimpered as he used his hand to guide his cock to your entrance and pushed in, only far enough for the tip. Breathy moans tumbled out of you, all effort to hide them completely foregone. You threw your head back against his chest, eyes closed, enjoying the teasing feeling of just his cockhead stretching you.

He alternated between faster pumps and slow ones where you could feel his tip just barely broaching your entrance before pulling away again. He liked to feel your cunt try to suck him into you. Could you get any wetter? Any more ready to take him?

You tried to cheat, you'll admit it. Bucking your hips back, but he always managed to follow your movements, not giving you a single bit more than what you asked for. Tears pricked your eyes again but your heart soared from it. You're at his mercy completely.

“Whats wrong, my lady, you seem distressed.” He wiped a tear away from the corner of your eye, threatening to fall. And the way you whined at that moment, so frustratedly, almost like you hated him, like you might kill him if you had the chance... it actually managed to crack Roose’s composure and he laughed a good hearty laugh from the bottom of his chest.

Still smiling, he tilted his head, giving a condescending hum of mock sympathy.

Roose took your chin in his hand so he can get a good look at you as he continued to tease the tip of his cock in and out of you. Your big eyes looking up at him and begging, begging. He would love to give in but you have to say it.

“I am but your loyal and humble servant. I only do what is bid of me.”

“Fuck me,” You crack, the words coming out not as intelligible words but as part of your moans.

He hummed a deep and clear “Hm?” Pretending he didnt hear but he did. You know he did.

“Please, fuck me.”

“And...”

“Please fuck me and marry me," You forced out, you cringed at the way your voice sounded, so whiny you would have thought it to be annoying and too high pitched. But it deepend the clouds of lust behind your lord's eyes. It made you keep going "Please, my lord, take me as your bride. Fuck me and then save my honor from ruin.”

Your eyes fluttered close, shutting tightly. You expected more taunting from him, anything, but you forced your eyes back to him when you felt his hot breath on your cheek, then his nose ghosting over as well. He pushed his cock in a little past the tip and you whimpered, grateful, melting into him. Your stomach twisted again. Your legs were so so so weak.

Roose tilted his head, leaning in closer and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. When he parted, you blinked, looking up into his striking blue eyes and you whimpered again because he thrusted back in, deeper, only slightly, but he met the little barrier within you and you braced yourself for the striking blow.

He captured your lips more roughly this time as he pushed through, claiming you as his. Your soft squeaks of pain and pleasure getting lost in his mouth. Roose pumped his cock in and out, slowly, waiting for you to stop tensing.

When your ass twitched upward against him, he took that as the permission. Your lips disconnected from each other, both of you left gasping. You stopped trying to hide your pleasure long ago.

Your husband to be let go of you, letting you fall down back to the bed and you caught yourself on your elbows. He grabbed your hips, using your body mercilessly as you damn near sobbed from pleasure.

The view of you bent over for him, the side of your face pressed into the sheet and submissively crying out for him was almost too much. Roose braced himself to last longer but it seemed you were also tumbling embarrassingly quickly to your release after having been denied the pleasure five times over.

"Perhaps tonight," Roose paused to grunt and in his deep, baritone, it was just too good, you whined in response, "Tonight, I will put our first baby in you. A bastard, but no one else but you and I will be privy to that technicality."

"Yes," You shook beneath him, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. And as your cunt tightened around him, Roose knew you were close.

"Beg," was the one worded command, and having learned your lesson, you obeyed nearly immediately.

"Please, let me release. Please, let me carry a son for you, husband. Whatever you need from me, please."

Roose could not deny such sweet words, he came inside you with a few purposeful jerks of his hips and you shuddered for it, the pleasure feeling as if it could blind you if you were even the slightest bit more wound up than you were in this moment. You were unaware of the fact that your pussy, having a mind of its own, continued to pulse, milking Roose Bolton for everything he had to offer.

The sizable load immediately spilled out onto the sheets after your intended slipped out of you. You laid there afterward, with your ass up, desperately attempting to recollect yourself as quick as possible.

You moved to get up but Roose landed a firm but not too painful smack on your ass. It wasn't too hard but in your state, it succeeded in knocking you back down to your hands with how weak your legs were.

"That's for striking me earlier," He said, icily, then he handed you a cup of water, waiting for you to take it before he started to wipe away at the mess he'd left between your legs with a spare rag of his.

The act was more tender than you'd have expected from Roose, especially when he pressed a small, short kiss to your buttock and gave it another playful smack.

"Stubborn little wife."

That brought a pleasant little heat to your cheeks.

[starkskeep]

Oh, all I used to do was pray (r. stark)

Oh, all I used to do was pray r. stark imagine

Pairings - Robb Stark x female!Reader

Summary: Robb Stark is the King of the North and the Riverlands after defeating the Lannisters. He was persuaded to keep his promise to Lord Frey and marry one of his daughters on the march back from King's Landing. No one except Walder Frey is happy with this arrangement. Robb Stark's new wife is forced to bear the weight of his hatred and the North's indifference to the new queen.

Word Count: 1,790 words

Warnings - Angst, violence, arranged marriage, mention of infidelity

Songs I listened to while writing: Would've, Could've Should've, Bigger Than the Whole Sky, The Great War, mad woman, Right Where You Left Me (Taylor Swift)

You were one of the many daughters of the Late Lord Walder Frey and an unnamed noblewoman who lost her battle on the birthing bed. Just one of the faces to be lost in the background. Not the most beautiful, not the most outspoken, not the best at singing, dancing, or embroidery. Just ok. Enough not to be ridiculed but not enough to be praised. Maybe that is why Catelyn Stark chose you to be the wife of her son. You were not incompetent but you would not overpower him. You would not be able to control the King of the North in order to advance the standing of House Frey. Walder Frey was surprised when you were the one chosen to marry Robb Stark but a man with as many children as he couldn’t bring himself to actually care. The wedding ceremony was a quick event performed in the faith of the Seven. The celebration was hurried. Your new husband wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. The sooner he was married, the sooner he would leave The Twins, and the sooner he and his men would be back in the North. There was much to be done with rebuilding Winterfell and establishing the reign of the Starks as the kings of the North for the first time since Aegon’s Conquest.

Disappointed was not the word you would use to describe your feelings. Dreaming of a wedding and a husband was something you had not done as a young girl. You never expected to be forced into a marriage as there were so many daughters born before you. This was not how you imagined your life to be like. Traveling east was your dream. A daughter not paid attention to by anyone in her household would have had an easy time sneaking away. Now you were the wife of a king and traveling North. You had to do your duty, even though you felt your heartbreak and your dreams die a little more each time you caught Robb staring at you with pure, unadulterated disdain. His family and his people were not much more welcoming. It seemed as if the Northerners had ice in their hearts when it came to outsiders. 

You stood in the courtyard of Winterfell unsure of what to do and feeling completely out of place. The Starks were being welcomed back into Winterfell with open arms yet you knew that this did not extend to you.It was clear to you from the moment you were married into this family that you were unwelcome and unwanted. Thankfully, you were given an excuse to leave the courtyard when a servant came up to you. “If you would follow me, my lady. I will show you to your new chambers.” You accepted the servant’s offer and followed them to your new sanctuary. Though the rooms were large, warm, and filled with everything you could possibly need to be comfortable, you could not help but notice that they were located as far away from your husband’s chambers as possible. “Maybe this is a blessing in disguise.” You thought to yourself, “At least I do not need to be overwhelmed by the tension being near him, of always having my guard up.”

Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months. You have tried to become closer to the Starks but are rebuffed each time. Instead of wallowing in pity, you devoted yourself to the reconstruction of Winterfell. You learned how to heal minor injuries and sicknesses from the Maester of Winterfell. You spent your time at the orphanage in Winter Town, caring for the children who lost their parents in the war. If you weren’t going to be accepted by your new family, you were at least going to prove that you were not useless. Despite this, no kindness was shown to you so you found your own peace and refuge where you could. More often than not, you were able to be located in the Godswood. It is there during your sixth moon at Winterfell that you were interrupted by Jon Snow. You smiled at him. Despite Jon being Robb’s brother, Jon is the only one who has been kind to you rather than being cold and detached. He had admitted to you during one of your many conversations that he knew what it felt like to be brushed aside. He wanted to make sure that you weren’t completely isolated.

This time, however, you do not give Jon a smile as he approaches you. You are focused on nothing, just staring blankly ad picking the grass by your sides. Jon is quite concerned for you so he decides to speak up. “My lady. Is everything alright?” He says as he clears his throat. It draws your attention so you flash him a weak smile. “I’m sorry Jon. I didn’t notice you there. You must have thought me quite rude for not greeting you.” “No, not rude… I was just concerned for you.” Jon looks down into your eyes. He looks like he wants to say more but is trying to stop himself. “Are you ok? You just seem… not like yourself. I can leave if you would prefer. If I'm bothering you…” You can see in his eyes that Jon truly wants to help you so you open up to him. You don’t know if he already knows or not, since he is Robb’s brother. “Talisa Maegyr is pregnant. My husband’s mistress is pregnant. I can hear the whispers from the people in Winterfell. I expect to receive a letter from my father soon, bemoaning my inability to become with child and cement my place as the Queen of the North.” Judging from Jon’s shocked expression, his brother had not told him. You hate yourself a little more for putting him in such an awkward position with Robb. Unable to distract yourself from the guilt that is clawing at your throat, you leave Jon in the Godswood, giving the excuse that you wish to be alone on a walk. Jon sadly watches you go.

Your good brother thanks the Gods that you already had left the Godswood. Not a few minutes after your departure Sansa and Robb arrive. Jon knew that if you couldn’t face him, you would definitely not be able to face your husband at that moment. “Jon,” he says with a deep breath. Robb’s face is solemn and he seems tense. “Have you seen my wife?”Jon is absolutely furious that Robb has the nerve to ask about you, now knowing that he has fathered a bastard. He looks at his brother with a frown. “She knows, Robb. She knows that you got your mistress pregnant. Leave her alone for the time being. She doesn’t need more of your disapproval.” Jon says tiredly. The fact that his brother would get another woman pregnant knowing how it felt for Catelyn when Jon was brought home by Ned and how Jon was then treated eats away at Jon.

Robb is silent, the pain on his face plain. He looks down at John, seeming to take in his words, processing them. He sighs and sits down, looking up at Jon. “You're right, Jon. I'm sorry.” Robb shakes his head and looks down at his feet. He's clearly in a lot of turmoil, though he takes Jon's words without argument. Maybe there were other things on his mind as well. Sansa steps forward and ends the silence between her two brothers. “Is...is she ok? Is she upset? Jon speaks again, “She was devastated, so devastated, but she wasn’t angry. This family has pushed her away so much since her wedding to Robb but she is still so eager to prove herself to us that she isn’t even angry that her husband got another woman pregnant.”Robb began to tense up, his face darkening and his fists clenching. Robb tenses up, his face darkening as he clenches his fists. “Jon.” Robb's voice is low, and Jon can tell he's on the verge of snapping. “I know, alright? You don't need to rub it in.” His voice is pained. Robb doesn’t know if he is angry at Jon or if he is angry at himself. His reaction makes Jon angrier. “No. You don’t know.” Jon looks at Sansa as well, “None of our siblings know. Everyone has been cold to Robb’s wife, our good sister, and resented her for the entire seven months that she has been in Winterfell. She was forced into the marriage as well, or did you conveniently forget that? So much time has been spent blaming her for the actions of Walder Frey that no one has stopped to consider that she is just as much a victim of circumstance in this marriage as Robb is.” Jon is so upset that he can’t be around them anymore.

After you left the Godswood, you went to the stables and requested that a horse be saddled As soon as it was brought to you, you took off through the gates of Winterfell, intent on getting as far away from everything as you could. It briefly crossed your mind not to go too far lest a search party be sent out after you, but you dismissed the thought. It would take a while of being away from Winterfell before anyone actually noticed the absence of their queen. You urge your horse to ride faster and faster toward the forest.

The Wolfswood is beautiful. Its trees stand tall and a stark contrast against the white landscape, giving the surroundings a majestic quality. The snow is thick on the ground. Suddenly, you can hear a sound in the distance. It's muffled at first, getting louder and louder. Soon the source seems to be obvious: A pack of wolves, howling. As you get closer to the sound, you realize that you were gravely mistaken. A pack of wolves would have been preferable to the sight that is in front of you now. It is a group of men laughing. A banner of a flayed man hangs behind them and is replicated upon their clothing. Even worse, they are holding Arya and Rickon. Likely just having fun in the woods that they were kept away from for so long yet now likely feeling as if their return home has been cut short. You decide that you need to do something immediately. Picking up a rock, you throw it to distract the men. This allowed Arya and Rickon to escape the hold on them. In the commotion, you to your good sister and good brother. “Run! Take my horse! Ride back to Winterfell! Quickly!”

Next Part

[asa-do-your-thing]

The rainbow trout

Robb Stark x Frey Reader 18 + MINORS DNI WC: 5,1k Warnings: forced marriage, mentions death, alcohol, dubcon, angst

You knew you weren't his first choice. You also knew what would happen, should Robb Stark, the Young Wolf, not accept your hand, so you did everything in your power to convince him to marry anyone of your female relatives. You sent him coded messages, diguised yourself and warned his pregnant lady... You did everything in your might to persuade him.

That was why it hurt you even more that when he came to the Twins and told you all to stand in a big semi circle ordered by your ages - you stood almost at the farthest end, having only just flowered - and he walked over to your aunts and older cousins, all past the ages of five and twenty. Everything within you itched to call out to him - King of the North, 'tis I who saved you!

But Robb Stark, the Young Wolf, was a man known for his honor and duty. He gave each woman a polite nod, exchanged pleasantries and, with a hint of discomfort in his eyes, moved along the line. You watched him as he went from your eldest aunt, Lady Amarei, a stout woman with greying hair and a face that had lost the battle with age long ago; to your cousin Alyx, then onto Waldene and Wylda - all older than you by several years and already mothers to their own broods, though you supposed it was pleasing for him to see their fertility.

The air in the Great Hall was thick with expectation as the Young Wolf made his way down the line of eligible Frey women. The flickering light from the hundreds of candles gave an ethereal glow to the scene, casting dancing shadows along stone walls adorned with the ancient heraldry of House Frey. The wheels of your father's great wooden chair creaked as he shifted his weight, watching his potential son-in-law examine his flock.

As Robb Stark drew closer to you, your heart pounded in your chest. Despite your best efforts to maintain decorum, your hands were clammy against the lush fabric of your dress. When he finally stood before you, his azure eyes met yours with an intensity that stole your breath away. His face was unreadable; he made no comments about your youth or offered any compliments as he had done for some of your relatives.

He nodded once before moving on to your younger sister - a girl who barely even knew how to keep her hair out of her soup bowl - and then carried on down the line. You could feel the disappointment welling up and looked up in amazement when he went back up to his previous spot. He... knew what would happen should he not accept any one of them? What was he doing?

Robb Stark, the Young Wolf, turned back to look you in the eyes. His gaze caught yours in a strange dance, akin to two foxes circling one another before withdrawing. He thanked your father, Lord Walder, for his hospitality and the introduction to his lovely daughters and nieces. His voice echoed along the stone hall, each word punctuated by silence from the gathered Freys.

"Before I proceed," he announced, raising an eyebrow as if he had just been struck by a sudden thought, "I would like to ask a question about a small rainbow trout." The hall fell silent.

Your heart leapt into your throat. The 'rainbow trout'. The code you had used so many times in your letters to him. You had used it as a symbol of danger, warning him of impending peril. And now he was using it back at you.

The question Robb asked was incredibly mundane in its nature for anyone else. Yet behind those words, there lay a hidden realm of understanding known only to Robb and yourself; its context spread across a plethora of secret letters exchanged between you two under various pseudonyms over the years. The audience stared at him blankly while your mind raced to pick up the hidden message in his query.

Just then, your innocent little sister nudged you and whispered in your ear right below a breath. "Has King Robb gone coo-coo?" You could hardly suppress the laughter that bubbled within you at her naive words. She didn’t understand what was passing between Robb and yourself and for that, you were both relieved and eternally grateful.

"No dear one," you whispered back, patting her small hand. " he's simply curious about our streams."

A hushed murmur passed through the crowd as they tried to comprehend the Young Wolf’s peculiar question. Lord Walder, from his high seat, let out a puff of irritation. "Is this a jest, Stark?" he asked gruffly.

The Young Wolf looked at him, his eyes hardening. "Not at all," he replied sternly. "In fact, it is rather important."

You noticed the subtle change in his demeanor and felt your heart flutter with anticipation. Robb turned his gaze back to you, the hardness softening once more into a look filled with intent and secret understanding.

"Your rainbow trout seems quite interesting." The Young Wolf finally spoke in his clear voice, echoing through the hall, carrying a message for you alone amongst the throng of confused onlookers. His words were enigmatic and carried an underlying layer of significance that no one but you could decipher.

The corners of your lips curled into an involuntary smile as you met his gaze and nodded subtly. You understood what he was trying to say, what he had so bravely alluded to in front of all your family members.

"And what would such a trout want?" asked Lord Walder impatiently. His sharp gaze pierced through Robb Stark who merely smirked and shrugged lightly.

"That’s for the trout to know," replied the Young Wolf cryptically. Before anyone could question further, he bowed courteously towards Lord Walder and then swept an arm towards you in an elegant gesture. "Perhaps your young lady there can provide me an answer?"

"Walderette?", your father croaked out and raised an eyebrow.

A big rumble went through the hall and you blushed up to your roots, not used to being stared at. This was pressure and you needed to handle it quickly and well - so well that your old, disgusting flea of a father would forget about this instance.

"Yes, Father?" You responded, managing to keep your voice steady, despite the thudding of your heart. Your eyes slipped towards Robb who looked at you encouragingly.

Your father huffed, "You'll entertain The Young Wolf's humor about our trout?"

"Of course, Father," you replied softly, your gaze locked with Robb's. An understanding passed between you two, an assurance that somehow he would make things right.

You then cleared your throat and addressed the hall in a voice far more confident than you felt. "Rainbow trout," you began, glancing at Robb who nodded subtly as if urging you to go on. "Is a delicacy in our rivers. It’s versatile and can thrive in different environments. It can be elusive yet it can be caught if one is patient and diligent."

The room was quiet as everyone watched you curiously. Your father squinted his eyes at you while your younger sister nervously bobbed up and down on her feet. He didn't dare suspect anything, or else your fate would be just the same - being slit open by your family.

"It is very good when smoked and lasts long, and it is easy to transport. It goes well with pickles-"

Lord Walder raised his hand and shrugged. "Yes, Wald... Walderette your name was, right? Rainbow trout is good." He looked at Robb, who gave him a relatively neutral look. "And you are sure you want... her? I have girls with prettier faces, bigger tits and that talk less nonesense."

Robb didn’t flinch under Lord Walder’s crude remarks. Instead, his gaze seemed only to harden, a touch of steel flashing in his eyes as he coolly met the old lord's gaze. "Aye," he said, holding your gaze again with a softness that contrasted sharply with the icy tone he had used for Walder.

"I'm sure." His blue eyes glittered with certainty and warmth. Your heart fluttered, nearly missing a beat at his declaration. To have him, Robb Stark, The Young Wolf, choose you in front of everyone felt as surreal as it was exciting.

Lord Walder grumbled something incoherent under his breath, shifting uncomfortably in his high seat. His gaze oscillated between you and Robb before finally settling on the young king with a grudging acceptance. He sighed heavily and grunted out a curt, “Very well.”

A murmur rippled through the hall, turning into excited whispers that echoed around the stone walls. This was unprecedented; a Frey girl chosen to be betrothed to the King in the North!

Your sisters looked at you with wide eyes, surprise and envy coloring their expressions. You could almost feel their piercing stares burrowing into your back, but you didn’t care. Robb had chosen you. And even though this was part of a grand scheme that remained secret from most, an indescribable joy surged within you at being chosen by him.

Robb then leaned slightly towards you, his voice barely audible above the hushed chatter. "I hope I picked the right trout," he murmured to you, a glint of worry in his eyes.

"There is only the one, my King," you reassured him with a small smile and breathed out once everyone went back to their seats - even the women, which gave you the greatest hope of there not being a massacre tonight. "Though if I find out anything that will hurt you or your... uh, friend, I will give you a signal and lots of likeminded trouts will help."

Robb nodded, his gaze fixed on yours. His eyes were the color of a stormy sky - deep, chilling, and deadly if challenged. Without breaking the eye contact, he whispered back, "I am looking forward to seeing what a school of like-minded trouts can do, thoug I hope I shall never feel the need to see them."

A hush fell over the room as Lord Walder straightened in his chair and clapped his hands together sharply. "Enough of these fish conversations," he barked, his voice echoing throughout the hall. "It's time to sit down for the feast. You're to be wed! My grandson shall be a King!"

As the guests began to shuffle towards their seats, you took Robb's arm and led him to the high table alongside Lord Walder and his newest wife. The woman, who was no more than a year older than you, was beautiful in a fragile kind of way. Her honey-coloured hair was bound up intricately with tiny pearls gleaming in between her locks. She shot you an encouraging smile as you both took your seats.

Throughout the feast that ensued, she would lean towards you from time to time, whispering coded words in your ear between bites of her meal or sips of her wine. "Remember," she once whispered casually as she spread some butter on her bread, "the pickles are of a dangerously spicy sort."

"Just the pickles?" You asked just as casually, keeping your gaze focused on your own plate.

She nodded subtly in response before turning her attention back to her own meal.

The night wore on with laughter and merriment filling the air beneath the vaulted ceilings of the hall. Everyone seemed at ease - even Robb appeared more relaxed now. However, underneath the surface, you were still fully ready to run. Your father was everything, but a honest man and nothing could fully guarantee your safety.

As the feast came to a close, Lord Walder rose to his feet with all the grace of a prowling cat despite his advanced years. "May I have your attention!" he bellowed, effectively silencing the chatter throughout the hall. He nodded his approval at the sudden quiet before turning his steely gaze towards you and Robb.

"It seems to me," he began, his voice carrying an uncanny edge that made the hair on your neck stand up. "That we're forgetting one important detail of this evening."

His gaze intensified as he continued, "These two lovebirds are yet to be wed!"

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. You felt Robb stiffen beside you, but your father's newest wife pressed a reassuring hand on your arm. It was, after all, part of their ploy.

A frail old septon shuffled forward from among the crowd. The wrinkles on his face gathered into deep crevices as he smiled warmly at you and Robb. He held out a red silken ribbon - your symbol of unity in this farce of a marriage.

You found yourself whispering vows under his quiet instruction, your voice choked by anticipation and fear while Robb's steady and firm words only added another layer to your pounding heart.

"And now," Walder announced gleefully once you'd both spoken your vows. "Seal it with a kiss."

Robb hesitated for a moment before leaning in, his warm lips brushing against yours in a chaste but lingering kiss. The hall erupted in cheers, and for a fleeting moment, it felt real - like true love had finally found your side, yet you knew that this'd be a farce. But then again, what would a loveless marriage be against dozens of dead innocents?

"Take the lovers away! Undress them!", croaked Walder and grinned implishly as a mass of Frey girls came and picked Robb up. Silencing his prostest with the smallest of nods, you, in turn let yourself be carried by some Stark men.

The crowd of Stark men was like a sea of shadows, each figure blurred into the next by the dim candlelight. The soft murmur of their voices was punctuated by the occasional chuckle or whisper as they carried you away through a labyrinth of stone corridors. The cold, rough-hewn stones beneath your feet were a stark contrast to the warmth and merriment of the feasting hall. The ancient walls echoed with tales of grandeur and battle, each echo ringing in your ears as an ominous forewarning.

With each step, you felt your heart drumming wildly in your chest - this was unchartered territory, a dance with danger and uncertainty. You stole a glance at the jumbled mass of Frey girls disappearing with Robb into another corridor, his eyes locked onto yours for an infinitesimal second before he was swallowed by the throng.

You were ushered up a winding staircase, its spiralling steps leading you to a chamber high above the ground. The door creaked open to reveal a room bathed in soft moonlight. It wasn't chained and barred like the dungeons you'd feared, but rather adorned with silken tapestries depicting intricate hunting scenes.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you entered. The room felt strangely comforting with its high vaulted ceiling and large canopy bed draped in furs. A lone window overlooked rolling meadows bathed in silver moonlight, their serene beauty belying the uncertainty that lay ahead.

The Stark men began to undress you, their roughened hands deft yet respectful on your garments. Your heart pounded in your chest like a wild bird trapped in a cage and only stopped once Robb came into the room, dressed only in a sheet that was held up by your giggling sisters. He quickly excused his men and gave the girls the same, stern look.

"Good night, little fish!", "Have fun!" and "Make sure that you'll make a king tonight!" were their parting words as the filed out, giggling.

The heavy door shut behind them with a reverberating thud that echoed in the silence of the chamber. The echo faded, leaving only your heartbeat to fill the quiet space. You turned to face Robb, his striking blue eyes filled with an uncertainty that mirrored your own. The bronze-toned light of the hearth danced across his features and played in his hair, casting him somewhat divine in your sight.

His broad shoulders lifted and fell in a heavy sigh that seemed to shake the very air around you both. The silence hung between you two like a tangible veil as he slowly approached you.

"We needn't…" he began, his voice gravelly and low – softer than you'd ever heard it. Suddenly, all of his kingly stature seemed to melt away, leaving behind only a boy burdened by expectations.

"I know," you quickly cut in, eager to relieve him of his discomfort. "I could just…" You trailed off, suddenly aware of the crude absurdity of your plan. But you pressed on, forcing out the words as your cheeks burned with embarrassment. "... just scratch myself open…"

Robb's gaze flickered downward before snapping back up to meet yours, a horrified look crossing his face.

"I mean... people just want some proof… or else... or else there will be talk... we could pretend…” You stumbled over your words, unable to keep eye contact with him anymore.

A moment passed where only the crackling flames dared break the silence. Then Robb let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly before he met your gaze again.

"You remind me why I chose you for this alliance," he said with a warmth in his voice that took you by surprise, his hand reaching out to gently cup your face. "You're willing to hurt yourself just to protect our farce, and the people we're sworn to protect."

His thumb swept across your cheekbone, drawing a shiver from you. There was honesty in his eyes - a rarity in this world of duplicity and deceit - and it was startling.

"You don't need to do that," Robb continued, the corners of his mouth curling up into a small smile. "We'll find another way. A better way." He let his hand drop, but the warmth lingered on your skin, spreading like wildfire through your body.

"Robb…" You began, but he cut you off with a shake of his head.

"No need for formalities," he said with a small grin, trying to lighten the mood. "We're married now, remember?"

He was attempting light-hearted banter – an attempt to alleviate the tension hanging thick between you two, and it was surprisingly endearing. Still though, unease crept back into your heart. After all, what other way could there be?

"But they will expect…" You started again.

"We'll be careful," he interrupted once more. "And we'll be smart. Let them think what they will."

A knock resounded at the door then – a single, harsh rap that echoed in the chamber and made both of you jump.

"Shall I pour the wine?" A thin voice floated in through the heavy oak door, belonging to an old servant woman probably sent by Lord Walder himself to see their progress.

"Yes," Robb called back after sharing an understanding glance with you.

The Lady came in and hobbled her way towards a small table, filling two cups with a cheap red wine, one that smelled more like a tincture than a lovely Dornish Red. To add to that, she set down a small dish of pickles. "If you do not manage to do your duties tonight, your Lady sends this dish to bring you back to your senses.

You began to panic slightly and nodded at her, doing your best to mime an innocent. Walking over to the small table, you dismissed her and quickly gave Robb his glass. As soon as the Lady went away again, you stripped and gulped down the beastly drink, positioning yourself on the bed like a bitch in heat.

Robb, for his part, wore a look of sheer surprise as he followed your unceremonious actions with wide eyes. He took a deep breath, setting his own glass down on the table beside him before he turned back to you. His cheeks were flushed a delicate pink - a stark contrast to his usual pale complexion - and he looked almost boyish under the soft candlelight.

"Please," he started, his voice rough in the quiet of the room, "You don't need to do this. Not like this." His gaze was steady and honest as it met yours, and his words tugged at your heartstrings.

But your mind was filled with vivid images of Lady Catelyn's tear-stained face and Rob's pregnant girlfriend - their lives hanging by the thinnest of threads because of you. You swallowed hard, pushing away the comforting warmth of his words. "We can't risk it Robb," you insisted. Your voice wavered despite your best efforts to keep it steady.

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his mop of auburn hair. But he made no move to stop you from lying back against the bed – your back cold against the rough fabric beneath you. He looked at you then – really looked at you – taking in your determined expression and your trembling hands.

For a moment, all was silent in the room - save for the crackling flames.

Then, without another word, he began to disrobe himself with an air of solemnity that felt too heavy for the occasion. He moved carefully, meticulously even, stopping momentarily to kick away his modesty sheet before he joined you on the bed.

"Lie on your back, Walderette. I needn't take you like an animal," he whispered solemnly as he made sure to keep his eyes on your face.

His voice was low and gentle, a tender lullaby whispered in the quiet of the night. It was an unexpected sweetness that only made your heart hurt with more force, your guilt gnawing away at you like a starved beast. But you nodded, complying with his request and shifting position, your heart pounding in your chest like a war drum.

A silence descended upon the room as he settled down beside you, his broad form dwarfing yours. His muscled arms propped him up as he leaned over you, his gaze never wavering from your face. You closed your eyes, your breath hitching as you felt the cool touch of his hands against the bare skin of your sides.

He stayed silent as his hands began to wander, their slow and deliberate movements adding an excruciating tension to the silence. He explored without hurry; his fingers ghosting over every rise and fall of your body as if committing it to memory.

You could feel the heat radiating off him – a feverish warmth that made goosebumps rise on your skin. Any other night, under any other circumstances, the feeling would've sent pleasing shivers down your spine.

"I…" you choked out, opening your eyes to find Robb hovering over you. His body pressed against yours in an almost comforting manner but it did nothing to dampen the guilt-ridden fear gnawing at your insides. "I… don't know what I'm doing," you admitted softly.

Robb's eyes darkened slightly at your confession but he gave you a small smile nonetheless. "It's alright," he whispered back reassuringly. "Neither do I, really. I've never... had to... take someone."

You blushed and gave him a shy smile. "I am not completely against it. Just... do whatever needs to be done and if we will not manage to create an heir, I am sure we will be able to do this... everything, under better circumtances."

“Are you sure about this?” he asked again, his voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes met yours, the steady gaze filled with an equal measure of fear and determination.

"Yes," you answered just as softly, your heart pounding in your chest. Despite your fear and uncertainty, you knew there was no other option. The lives of those you cared for were at stake. This was a small price to pay for their safety.

Robb nodded, his face a solemn mask. His eyes held yours, a lingering connection in the quiet room. He moved closer, laying his body against yours in a slow, deliberate manner. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, the rapid beats of his heart echoing your own.

"Close your eyes," he whispered, and you complied without question. His lips found yours then, a tender kiss that tasted of wine and apprehension. His lips moved against yours gently, coaxing you into a rhythm that was as haunting as it was comforting.

His hands moved up your sides, skimming past the sensitive skin of your torso to rest at the sides of your face. He pulled back slightly from the kiss, his breath warm against your cheek as he began to whisper words meant only for you. They were soft promises of safety and care; sweet nothings that melted your worries away like morning fog under the sun's rays.

In spite of the circumstances, the tension in the room dissipated at his gentle ministrations. Your body relaxed under his touch, fear and uncertainty replaced with a sense of security.

Then he was moving again, inch by agonizing inch. The heat of him was all-encompassing now; a comforting weight pressing down on you with each passing moment. You let out a gasp when he finally pushed forward – a soft sound drowned out by the crackling fire and rustle of fabric.

It was not painful nor pleasurable - merely an odd discomfort that became more bearable as Robb began to move with slow rhythm, whispering soothing words into your ear. His hands never left your body – one rested on the small of your back, the other cradling your face. His thumb stroked your cheekbone in small circles, drawing out a soothing pattern that almost lulled you into a trance.

The room had become warmer, or maybe it was just the heat radiating from Robb — every inch of his bare skin touching yours, filling your senses with his presence. You clung to him, hands clenched on his broad shoulders, fingers digging into his flesh as he moved with quiet determination. You kept your eyes closed, taking in every sensation, every small sound he made as time stretched thin between each heartbeat.

He smelled of wood smoke and winter air. A hint of the strong drink you both had shared still lingered on his breath mixed with the warm scent of his skin. Each breath he drew was a low sigh against your ear, a soft symphony playing under the rustle of linen and crackle of fire.

His movements remained slow and deliberate — no rush, no urgency. He was careful with you, maintaining a rhythm that was mindful and tender. His touch was gentle but firm, holding you close yet giving you space to breathe. His lips found your forehead once more, pressing a soft kiss there.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly once again, pulling back slightly to look at you. His voice was barely audible over the slow rhythm of his body and your combined breaths.

You opened your eyes to meet his gaze. His eyes held an intense mixture of concern and uncertainty, but also a strange form of peace, as if in this moment he had found some sense of purpose.

"I... am," you answered truthfully – Your body was tingling from the strange experience but there was no pain or discomfort anymore - only an odd sense of warmth... and maybe even something akin to contentment.

His gaze held yours, his expression softening at your words. A sigh of relief escaped him as he lowered his lips to meet yours again. His kiss was languid, unhurried, a complete contradiction to the rapid beating of your hearts.

He whispered your name between soft kisses and gentle touches, turning it into a sweet lullaby that danced with the crackling flames in the hearth.

Gradually, your world shrunk until it was made up of Robb alone—the rhythm of his breaths matching your own, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, and his whispered words filling the silence. Time seemed to stretch on endlessly; seconds turning into minutes and minutes into hours as you lost yourself in him.

When he finally pulled back after depositing his hot spend in you, it was slow and deliberate. You felt a pang of loss as the warmth of his body disappeared only to be replaced by the cool air of the room. His fingers lingered on your skin for a moment longer before he moved them away too. He didn’t look at you as he rolled onto his side, putting some distance between you two.

It was understandable, you thought to yourself. His true love was outside, in th tents, worrying about her lover, the father of her babe.

For a long while, there was only silence in the room. You could still hear the faint sounds of Robb's steady breathing and feel his warmth beside you, but there was a sense of melancholy in the air that you couldn’t ignore.

The embers from the fire were slowly dying out and you knew that dawn was approaching; still, neither of you made any attempt to speak or move.

Eventually, Robb broke the silence, "I'm sorry..." His voice was barely audible over the dying embers. He turned towards you again, worry etched on his face, quickly wrapping the towel around himself.

"I don't know why I did that... I shouldn't have..."

His words hung in the air, heavy with regret. You turned your gaze to him, seeing the anguish painted across his face. The light from the dying fire cast a soft glow on his features, emphasizing the shadows of guilt etched deep within his eyes.

"It's okay..." you whispered, laying a hand gently on his arm. "It was necessary."

But even as the words left your lips, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. You were both trapped in a situation neither of you wanted to be in. Each decision made out of obligation, not desire. It was a cruel reality, one that seemed determined to tear you both apart.

He looked at you then, his eyes searching yours for any sign of resentment or pain. When he found none, he let out a sigh, heavy with relief.

"I wish things were different," he said after a long silence, his voice barely audible over the crackling embers. "I wish we could choose our own paths."

You chewed your lower lip, contemplating his words. You knew what he meant. Your lives were dictated by forces beyond your control-- duty, responsibility and a looming war that threatened everything you held dear.

"We can't change what's already happened," you said quietly, meeting his gaze. "All we can do is move forward and make the best of what we have."

He nodded at your words although his expression remained pained. He reached out to take your hand into his own larger one and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"Thank you," he murmured softly, getting up and handing you your dress.

"No, thank you, my King," you said with a small smile. "Let us leave this horrid place."

[rosalinrabbit]

Nectar of the Gods

Blue Banisters Track List

Pairing: Robb Stark x Fem! Mormont Reader

Warnings: Hurt, hurt no comfort, past relationships, family deaths, briefly mentioned violence, final goodbyes, pure angst, Robb being an idiot and putting the North in danger

Summary: After the death of your aunt and your father, you knew you had to return to Bear Island. You couldn’t take it anymore, watching Robb live a life you weren’t a part of any longer. When the King in the North himself finds you packing your bags, many things left unsaid finally come to light.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N:  This is the start of the Blue Banisters Track List!! (A new project which is likely going to be a bit inconsistent in terms of order and posting)

This fic is a mix of show and book canon if that makes sense? I was rewatching the show and every time we get to the whole Robb x Talisa plotline I lose my mind at how weird it is but I digress. 

You are in charge of your own media consumption. Please read responsibly.

Do not translate or re-upload any of my work. Works are only cross-posted on AO3.

< What sweet world is this? Honey on the vine..

School kid dreams came true, then passed in the night

I used to dream about people like you, now I don’t know why… >

-Lana Del Rey, Nectar of the Gods

You hurried to pack your things from the tent you had once shared with your aunt, the one you still shared with two of her daughters, your cousins, Dacey and Lyra. Maege’s oldest and third oldest. The rest, Alysane, Jorelle, and Lyanna, remained at Bear Island. 

The she-bear is no more. When her daughters decided to remain by the King’s side, you knew you could not. Then, the message came from up North. From the Wall.

To your luck, the raven’s message landed in the hands of Catelyn Stark, not her son’s. It was Catelyn who came up to you, pulling you into her tent to talk alone. Her eyes alone saw the tears when she told you.

Your father was dead. Killed by his own men in a mutiny beyond the wall.

You were taught better than to react in the way you did, in disbelief and agony. In shock. You had stared at the older woman for a few moments before you could even process her words, yet your eyes seemed to beat your mind to it, tears streaming down your face as you stared past Catelyn, towards the opening of the tent and out into the beyond. 

When the sobs broke through, you felt her hands on your arms, holding you up so you wouldn’t fall over, bringing you close and providing you with the comfort only a mother could, even though you would never get to call her by that name.

Even though she herself had expected you to one day.

You were thankful that Catelyn atleast understood your pain. While you hailed from Bear Island, while you held the name Mormont and were loyal as can be to House Stark, while you knew how to fight and lead like the rest of your family, the pain of it all weighed on you. As much as you tried to hide it, for the pride of your house, for your own dignity, it was far too much, and you and the Stark matriarch both knew the pain went beyond the death of your father.

It was everything inbetween. 

The two Stark girls whom you loved like sisters, in what felt like increasingly mortal danger because of Robb’s rebellion. 

The death of your aunt, who cared for you as though you were her own when your mother died, when your much older half-brother Jorah disgraced the house, and when your father left to take the black.

The fear for your house and your future, leaving your dear young cousin Lyanna at home and in charge of Bear Island with her mother’s most trusted advisors.

The fact that your father was killed by his own men, by the job he had commited his life to. 

The heartbreak of Robb moving on.

The anger caused by his stupidity.

The moment you learned he had married that Westerling woman, the one who traveled along with the infantry, healing men who probably didn’t have a chance, you knew this war was doomed. Not because of what Walder Frey would do, but because of Robb’s clear lack of foresight. How could he not see what the rest of you saw? All for one woman.

You had never asked that of him.

Your engagement had been broken off when the war began. He told you he wanted to keep the engagement but did not want you to be a target, and you had told him that the greatest chance he’d have at winning this war was through an advantageous marriage. One that would offer far more than your family could. You didn’t do it because you didn’t love him, no. The both of you were desolate at the reality of it all. In your mind, you hoped he would refuse to marry throughout the war. Hoped the “young wolf” would be strong enough, that he wouldn’t need to. But you knew better, and you knew he needed the numbers. If Arya and Sansa were going to survive, he needed a stronger army and a wife that could offer more to him standing by his side. 

When he promised to marry Walder Frey’s daughter, your heart broke. Yet the passage was worth it. The North was worth it.

You would do it a thousand times over for Sansa and Arya, and you’d do the same for your own young cousins that were like sisters to you. Not that Dacey and Lyra needed protecting, but if they did, you would do it for them without much thought. 

For his family, for his sisters, you broke the engagement. 

And Robb threw all of that away, and the North along with it, by marrying Talisa.

As you changed into more suitable riding clothes, you couldn’t help but think of the past. Of when you thought you had it all figured out. You closed your eyes, and tears slipped out at the memories of him.

Holding his hand and walking through the glass gardens. Braiding Sansa’s hair. Chasing after Bran and Arya as they climbed up walls and through windows.

Or when he kissed you in the Godswood, telling you that you were standing on the spot where you would eventually marry.

Lies.

You would never have any of those things again.

“Y/n?” 

You startled at Robb’s voice, wiping away any stray tears and turning around to prepare to face him, hiding your bags behind your back. 

“Yes, your highness?” You responded bitterly as he entered the tent on your response.

“Please don’t call me that. When did you ever get so formal?” He muttered.

“I’ve always been formal to those who require it.”

“I do not require it of you.”

“Your station and our relationship does.”

“You mean our lack of a relationship?” He bit slightly before calming again.

You stood, unmoving, eyes glazing past him as you waited for him to get on with it. He stepped forward and you stiffened.

“I had realized we never spoke about Maege…” He stepped even closer and his hand reached up before you quickly took a step back from him, confused at his purpose and his words. He looked at you with a pained expression at your coldness, and it just made you angry. None of this was your choice. “Your aunt was a great woman,” he began. “I know you loved her deeply, and she looked after you like you were her own. I am truly sorry for your loss.”

Perhaps, under different circumstances, Robb’s condolences may have made you soften. May have had you second-guessing your choice to leave. Now, looking at him, you could hardly recognize the man you once loved. He spoke with the compassion he always seemed to hold within him, yet the way he stood, the way he looked, he had this strange self-righteousness. As if this could save you from your pain… and what of your father? He must not know.

You stood there staring at him before you spoke, in as neutral a tone as you could muster. “We have all made great sacrifices, your highness. I believe my aunt may rest easy knowing her own sacrifice, that of her life, saved countless others.” Unlike you, you thought to yourself. No, he sacrifices others. Not himself. 

Robb wasn’t an idiot, and his expression sunk at your words. “I appreciate every sacrifice that has been made on behalf of the North.”

Sadness and anger were welling up within you, and gods, you wanted to yell at him. You wondered if you could still get away with something like that, yet you simply muttered, thinking of your father, your aunt, the stark girls. “And a great many, indeed.”

“Y/n… do not insinuate that I do not know sacrifice. I have lost as much, if not more, compared to all those here.” 

“Whatever you believe,” you spoke, looking directly into his eyes, “it doesn’t really matter in the end, does it? It doesn’t matter what we’ve lost, it’s already gone.” You turned your head away, willing tears to stay put in your eyes.

“I am sorry.”

You didn’t know what he was apologizing for. “It is what it is.”

“I made you a promise. And I broke it.”

“You did.”

“Why must you always act like it doesn’t matter to you?” He scoffed, frustrated. There was a pause. “Were you.. were you packing up your things to leave?”

You turned to look at your bags on the bed.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, your highness.”

“Don’t call me that, please, for gods sakes. And all I ever wanted was an ounce of pushback from you! We were to be married, and you gave that away so easily, yet now you punish me for it every day because I married Talisa!”

“Robb,” you spoke harshly, stopping his rant, giving him what he seemed to want. An honest response. “You’re right, I am angry with you. Just not for the selfish reasons you think I am.”

“Well if you’re abandoning the war effort, it’s better for me to hear it now before you’re taken prisoner.”

You sighed at his childish threat. “I think you haven’t seen a single thing I’ve done. Of course breaking the engagement mattered to me! How could you not see that? You know how much I loved you, how on earth could you really think I gave that up so easily? Without second thoughts? I did it for you! And you’re so far up your own arse at this point that you can’t even see that! I sacrificed my love for you for the lives of your sisters. For the chance to win this war. Is that not a good enough reason for you? It’s not that you married Talisa, it’s that I agreed to end the engagement while under the impression that it would change the tides of the war. That you would marry a Frey and secure the twins. But you didn’t do that, Robb. And it felt like a knife in my back.” Robb stood a few paces away from you, a hurt expression across his face, one of shame and sadness. “I made that sacrifice for nothing.”

“I love her. That’s why I married her. I loved, I still love, you… I could not marry a woman I did not love. It wouldn’t have been right for either of us.”

“This is not about love, Robb. It is about duty, and honor. I know you believe what you did was honorable, honorable to the sanctity of vows and marriage… but you killed hundreds if not thousands of our men with your choice. Is that worth it to you? Is that truly so honorable, if it meant breaking your promises?”

“We will make it right with the Freys, and pay our debts another way. But you, you broke your promise to me. And now you stand here with your bags packed, is that not breaking your promise, too?”

“I did it for your family! I did it to try to save your sisters, and I did it for you! How can you not see that? And I’m leaving now because my family is in trouble, my cousins just lost their mother and now must rule the island. I’ve given up so much for you, for your family…” You rose your voice in anger, beginning to lose control of your emotions, hands beginning to shake as you tied up your bags.

“Even if they are family, what would your father think of you being a deserter?”

“Do not speak of my father-“ your voice broke, tears welling up in your eyes. 

“If you were under his command he’d have you killed for abandoning your position, y/n,”

“He’s dead, Robb!” You yelled, eyes locking to his, tears dripping from your eyes like spring rain. “My father is dead.”

“Y/n- I didn’t know,” Robb’s face had fallen to one of sympathy, his hand reached out for you, to comfort you like he had so many times in the past. And this time you let his hand reach your shoulder. You stiffly let him protectively put a hand on the top of your head, and pull you into his embrace. After a moment, you relaxed into his warmth, exhaling shakily as the tears kept coming. “I know how much he meant to you. I am so sorry…”

“Robb, you have to let me go,” you whispered, and you knew he understood you meant he needed to let you return home, because his hold around you was maintained. “I don’t have anything left for me here. I want another chance. A chance to be happy. I want to protect and defend my home, and the family I have left.”

“I can’t,” he told you earnestly. “I can’t.”

“You’re married, you moved on… So why won’t you let me?”

“I didn’t, really. I couldn’t.”

“But you did. You can’t take any of it back, Robb. And I know that I can’t either.” You paused to collect yourself before continuing. “Do you want to know how my father died?”

He was silent for a moment before asking, “how?”

“His own men killed him. There was a mutiny.” His grip around you tightened. “My father was an incredibly respected man. And in the end, no matter how much he did right, he did not pay enough attention to what was right in front of him. I don’t think he ever considered just how possible it was that his men would turn on him.”

“The North is stronger than a band of criminals. We have a family name to stand behind, we have bannermen who swore oaths for generations. It is different,” he rationalized, looking down at you. And you looked up, and then, you could remember why you fell in love with him. With his handsome face and dark curls, his fierce yet pragmatic nature, the overwhelming protection, and the way his adoration for you shone through his eyes. The way you could feel it. And your heart hurt, because you thought he might be wrong. His eyes stayed on yours as you spoke.

“Nothing is as strong as it seems, Robb… You just crossed Walter Frey. One of the most selfish men I’ve ever met, the lord of a great river lands house, and of the crossing, which you desperately need for this war… I could be wrong. I could be, but I’ve already lost you. I’ve already lost your sisters. I’ve lost my aunt, who raised me as her own, and I’ve lost my father. I cannot be here anymore. There is nothing for me here, and while I can never forgive you for the choices you made, I also cannot bear to lose more of you than I already have.” 

Robb brought his hands up to your face, brushing the water from your eyes as his own eyes welled with tears. 

“You have to let me go,” you pleaded again, voice barely even a whisper. 

“I know,” he nodded. “At least let me get a horse and supplies for you. Meet me at the eastern edge of the camp.”

And with that, he quickly withdrew his hands, leaving your tent without a second glance.

As you waited, you ensured you had packed everything. You double-checked the items and re-laced your boots before throwing on a warm cloak and stepping outside. The air was growing colder, and with the winds came winter.

You quickly made your way to the edge, and by the tree line you spotted him. Standing with your horse, already saddled.

He was silent when you approached, and could not meet your eye as he took your bags and attached them. He automatically held a hand out to help you mount, but when you took it, he looked at you again. And he truly looked at you. His eyes ran over the details of your face, like he was committing it to memory, and held your hand like a lifeline. He looked at you with sad desperation, pulling you into a hug once more, tucking your head under his chin and holding you so tight you could hardly breathe. When his grip loosened, he placed a tender kiss to your forehead, and within it held every memory, and every touch. 

“You know where to go. Just promise me to be careful. Go quickly, don’t stop for anyone… I love you, y/n.” His voice sounded hoarse, too much emotion behind it to even speak of.

“I love you too, Robb,” you told him, staring deep into his eyes as you cried for what felt like the millionth time that day. “And I am sorry that wasn’t enough.” 

He simply nodded, and helped you onto the horse.

He did not look at you as you fixed the hold on the reins or the lay of your cloak along your back, but as you urged your horse into a galloping pace and you looked back, his eyes were fixed on you.

You knew then that you would always love him, and no matter how lost he made you feel, and while you could never forgive him, you could now move forward. You knew you could find your way.

Whether Robb made it through or not, your situations wouldn’t change. Too much had transpired to ever go back.

No, even if you both survived this war, you knew that this would be the last time you ever saw Robb Stark.

[idksmtms]

Hi babes!

Can you do a rob stark x frey reader/ jon snow x frey reader?

Robb is set to get married to the frey girl like in the show but he marries reader who is a beauty so when he sees her and spends time with her he regrets his whole relationship with talisa but reader has already decides to have a marriage only for both houses and not love

Meanwhile she meets jon and they fall HARD and they have their moments so much so, that there are songs and poems about their looks and longing

I LOVE ANGST

AAAAAH QUEEN I LOVE ANGST TOO!

Firstly, this is such an interesting idea and thank you so much for requesting it! But I have to disappoint you 😭 I am not taking requests for anything other than tennis players and F1 drivers right now because I have a huge backlog of angst requests and the ideas I have already posted on my masterlists.

If you could hold onto this idea and send it to me when I reopen my angst requests at some point, then I would love to write it! Thank you sm!

[bellarkeselection]

Frey Wolf

Robb actually marries a Frey girl. The pair wait to have their wedding night until she's ready. Set where he wins the war of five kings

Robb Stark

The name of my betrothed. It's the only information my father gave me. A marriage for a bridge crossing is how I got swept up into all this. My sister Mary finishes tieing the lases of my wedding dress. Our father has slept with a lot of women and that's what I'm most afraid of. That must husband will be old like him and only care about sleeping with me. When I die he'll get another and make more children without a care. I haven't seen any other life outside of these walls, so it's probably my fate.

The doors of the throne room open for all eyes to face me. Taking in a deep breath I slowly walked down the aisle. At the end of it stands my father and all my other siblings standing in a line. Lady Catelyn Stark and her son, my betrothed. Looking him over I see curly brown-red locks and grey eyes of the Starks. He doesn't seem to be happy about this arrangement either as he draped the Stark cloak over my shoulders. But he isn't old like I thought. Looks to be my age actually.

"In the sight of the seven. I hereby seal these two souls binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words." The Septon spoke. Robb's eyes gazed down to mine reciting the words. "I am hers and she is mine. From this day until the end of my days." I hold in a sharp breath saying back. "I am his and he is mine from this day until the end of my days." Slowly his hands cup my face leaning down kissing me gently. I had to admit he was a good kisser causing me to kiss him back for a quick second hearing clapping from the crowd.

The feast was crazy but the Northern bannerman started cheering 'bedding' which makes me stiffen. Robb's hand takes mine squeezing it gently getting to his feet he declared. "There will be no bedding ceremony tonight. Enjoy yourselves for we have beaten the Lannisters who wanted us on our knees!" Before anyone can object he leads me to our chambers closing the door and removing his fur cloak. The only light provided is from the fireplace. Here it comes Y/n. Slowly I start pulling down the straps of my gown prepared to lose my virginity to the King in the North. "Lady Y/n stop." His deep voice makes me stop confused.

"I'm sorry, my lord?" I turned around to face him confused. He's only down to a tunic and trousers slowly he steps up to me. "I won't share your bed. Not until your absolutely sure." Parting my lips in shock I still can't believe him. "My lord it's our duty to-" He rests a finger to my lips cutting me off, locking onto my eyes deeply. "I am king lady Y/n. I can choose to wait for your sake. But please call me Robb." I smile lightly fiddling with my dress nervously. "Robb can, could you kiss me again?" A small smile meets his lips leaning down he gently kissed me. I kissed him back for a few minutes. He's nothing like my father.

Weeks have passed since our wedding night and we still haven't consummated. My father was getting suspicious but I think I'm finally ready. My mother had died during my birth so I wasn't fully prepared. Rumor was the first time there would be a lot of pain. Yet Robb has been gentle slowly getting me used to his touch. Kissing me and cuddling beside me in our bed until I go to sleep before he'll go to his own chambers. Nothing about him showed force or roughness that most women faced in arranged marriage. I was one of the lucky ones. The Stark's are fierce on the outside but gentle on the inside.

"Hey Robb. I've been thinking." I trailed off entering our chambers to see him laying on our fur bed. "Yes, lady wolf. What is on your mind?" I sit on the edge of the bed wearing a tunic and trousers from returning from our horse ride earlier. "I'm ready. To sleep with you." He leans up on his elbow resting a hand to my cheek, searching for uncertainty. "You're sure. I don't want to pressure you my lady." I nod my head leaning over and kissing his lips. He slowly kisses back still holding my face in his hand until he breaks the kiss. "Roob what is it?" I questioned seeing a playful smirk on his lips.

He climbed out of the bed coming to my side. One arm sliding underneath my legs and the other under my arm, I wrapped my arms around his neck giggling. "Robb, what are we doing?" He goes to the open doorway carrying me over the threshold and laying me on the bed, kicking the door closed with his foot. "Doing this properly. My lady wolf deserves this to be loving and fun." He slowly removes his tunic and I feel my cheeks turning red as I admire his chest seeing him smile. He slowly comes to stand in front of me his hands reaching for the bottom of my tunic. "Are you sure about this, Y/n?"

I slowly nod my head wrapping my arms around his neck playing with his curls. "Yeah. Just...be gentle, I've never..." He gently pressed his lips to mine whispering. "I promise. I'd never wish to hurt you my wolf." His hands slowly pulled my shirt off pushing me onto my back on the bed. Robb hovers above me smiling sweetly pressing his lips onto mine. I immediately kissed back feeling his lips trailing my neck causing me to moan when he hits a certain spot.

"My mother spoke once that there will be some pain for you but I promise I'll be as easy as I can." He stopped his actions staring deeply into my eyes. My hands play with the hairs at the nape of his neck lisening closely. Gently pulling his lips down to mine smiling into the kiss I mumbled against his lips. "I love you, Robb Stark." His hands slowly run through my hair deepening the kiss. "And I you, Y/n Frey."

Comment and reblog 😊

[dipperscavern]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could write about Robb’s childhood best friend/lover finding out about his betrothal between him and one of the Frey girls? Love your writing!!

i won’t lie… this one hurt my heart a bit (i’m grieving) but we persevere — i’m glad u enjoy my writing & thank you sm for the ask </3 (i am a shell of the man i once was)

robb stark x fem!reader (angst, doomed by the plot i fear)

war is unforgiving. war is harsh, it is mean, and it doesn’t change direction for anyone’s feelings. terrible things happen, terrible choices have to be made, and there’s nothing you can do about it. this is a hard lesson that you’ve had to learn, ever since lord eddard stark (or as you knew him, ned) was beheaded, and the north declared war.

it all seemed to happen so fast. one thing after another, like the stone of tragedy was rolling down the hill and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. fate has been cruel, and especially cruel to your lover, robb.

and here sits another obstacle for him to maneuver. lord walder frey.

you needed to cross at the twins. there was no other option, and it was crucial that you win the freys to your side. it was so important, that catelyn stark herself went to treat with them. she was confident that her past with lord frey would ensure her safety, and hopefully make her negotiation that much easier. you bit down on your bottom lip watching her leave, in a poor attempt to soothe your nerves.

you didn’t like this. you liked things you could control, things you could fix. this was completely out of your hands, and you found yourself praying to the gods on behalf of lord walder frey. things really have gone downhill. you spared a glance to robb, to find him already looking at you. he gives you a small nod, which you return, and you move to start heading back to the camp.

you can’t really say why this is the thing that made you so anxious, but you need to keep it together. robb needs dependability, so you did the one thing you were good at. staying busy. there was never a shortage of things to do or problems to fix, and you happened to be especially good at keeping the camp running smoothly. you had no doubt robb would find you once catelyn returned, providing you with an answer — or, with something that needed a solution.

“We’ve been granted crossing.”

you turn around, seeing robb walk in the tent you’re in. he’s got a mixed expression of relief, and the usual cloak of exhaustion & grief that doesn’t seem to leave his face much these days. there’s something else wavering underneath all of it, but you leave that discussion for later.

you exhale, nodding, and you send a silent thanks to the gods. you turn, moving to continue your organization of the maps. most were unorganized, half of them outdated, and they all could use a rewrite.

“Not without a price, I’m sure.”

your words weigh much more heavily than you intended, meant as a jest to the ever prickly walder frey. you’re messing with the scrolls, waiting for a reply. but you don’t get one. robb has hesitated.

that makes you stop your ministrations. you and robb could always talk to each other about everything. you were each others outlet, and conversation always flowed easily — even if there was grievous news, he never hesitated. you turn around, looking at him, and finally, you recognize the micro expression you saw when he first came in.

guilt.

a soft call of his name brings him out of his head, and squeezes his heart at the same time. how can he do this? can he even bring himself to look at you? he’s on autopilot, hand moving by itself to close the flaps of the tent behind him. he turns back to face you, and the expression you wear almost makes his knees buckle.

“Don’t scare me. I hate when you scare me.”

he knows. he remembers how he used to jumpscare you as children, until you told him (with tears in your eyes) not to — and he found himself wanting to heed your every wish. the next time theon scared you, it was robb you sought out. he pranked theon to make you feel better (oh, how you laughed). why does it have to be him? why him to do it? heavy is the head that wears the crown.

“Lord Walder Frey has granted us crossing through the twins,” he exhales. “but not without price.”

all of your attention is on him, and for the first time, robb doesn’t relish in it.

“I must take Olyvar Frey as a squire, a knighthood is expected in due course.”

you watch him intently, waiting to listen to whatever’s made him hesitant to talk to you. doesn’t he know you’re steadfast, in it for the long run?

“Arya, when recovered, will marry one of Lord Walders sons.”

“She’ll like that.” the mere mention of arya is enough to make you smile. he finds himself returning it. you look so pretty when you smile, how can he make you do anything but? can he even?

“And…” he trails off. he’s gripping his gloves so hard his knuckles turn white. “And I must take one of Lord Walders granddaughters to wife.”

the tranquility melts off your face. your smile is nowhere to be found. he has. he did.

he can see the gears in your head turning. your expression morphs into sadness, grief. he watches you try and steady your breathing. can he reach out for you? is that his place anymore?

you’re nodding, as if you expected this as a possibility, but the tears welling up in your eyes betray you.

“We… we can cross, that’s…” you swallow down your tears. “that’s good.”

you’re picking at your hands now. you do that when you try and hold yourself together. it’s not working.

robb isn’t fairing much better. if you took your attention off of choking back your sobs, you’d see his expression is helpless. painful. he understands your pain, he feels it tenfold. when did his eyes get so wet?

“I need…” you pause as if you don’t even know. “I need you to go.”

he whispers your name. he wants you in his space. he wants you closer, and you want him away. you turn away from him, and he begins to take steps towards you without even realizing it.

“Robb, please,”

“Don’t make me…”

“I need you to leave. Please.”

all the times you’ve pulled him towards you echo in his mind — now you’re pushing him away. he’s approaching you. you have a hand on your stomach, trying to steady yourself. you sense his presence, putting a hand out to the side he’s standing on. he’s slightly behind you, trying with everything he has to respect your wishes. his heart wins. his giant, aching heart.

he puts a hand on the one you have outstretched in a poor attempt to keep him away.

“Robb,” you begin, tensing up. you tense at his touch. his. “don’t.”

he’s never been a good listener. he reaches for you. at first you pull away, cries of his name spill from your mouth as your voice breaks. he doesn’t stop. you melt into him. selfishly, you find comfort in his arms. you grip him like he could disappear. but he’s not disappearing, he’s leaving.

you are touching another woman’s husband. they will share a bed. they will share a soul. he’s not yours.

his heart is, but his body never will be. and isn’t it all the same, at the end of the day?

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

33 - Blood, Roses and All Lies

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 16.1k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, past character death, mentions of rape, mental duress, disturbing imagery, descriptions of blood and gore

Notes: No, I'm fine, it's cool. Nothing at all is wrong, everything is fine. Don't look at me. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

As you had sat down, it was already suspected what the response was going to be. Some would be fine with it, others wouldn't be as happy and a spare few left would likely stand and argue over the matter in principal but there was no more room left for chance. Beside you, Jon stood tall as his voice projected in the vastness of the main hall. “Everyone aged ten and up will drill daily with spears, pikes, bow and arrow.”

A laughter waved across the hall as Lord Hornwood spoke up with an air of amusement in his tone looking to the men by him and over. “It's about time we taught these boys of summer how to fight.”

Biting your tongue, you held your expression as still as could be knowing the protest about to come, but Jon had the confidence in the decision to not waver. “Not just the boys. We can't defend the North if only half the population is fighting.”

Room falling quiet, many eyes found Lord Hornwood as he stood with a narrowed expression and judgment sitting upon his tone. “You except me to put a spear in my granddaughters hands?”

Considering the one who started you on your own path of weaponry stood beside you, it was easy for Jon to find a calm but collected response.

“I mean no offence, my Lord, but that was a command.” Many heads turned to either their King with pride, or Lord Hornwood with a question of doubt sat upon their eyes of what he would say. Jon however, was not finished. “I'm not asking you, any of you, to be comfortable with your wives, daughters, granddaughters learning how to fight. But this isn't a normal battle we are preparing for. If we fall, there will be no one left to protect them and these things will not care how young they are.”

More silence rippled through, and unnerved speculation fell upon the crowd. But Jon was at Hardhome, he had seen who the army of the dead rose up with and not for a second did how young any were make them not as dead as before. Or as blue eyes to terrify as every other. Children died that day the same as their mothers and fathers falling beside them.

Your voice was quieter then Jon's, but the silence of the room heard it all the same. “If your granddaughter knows nothing of how to fight, it will be far more difficult to expect her to know how to defend herself when the time comes.” Something sat at the edge of his mouth, but you stood up with a voice finding itself louder. “As a parent, you do everything in your power to protect your children. But there is a strong difference between protecting them, and coddling them. When they come, they will not pass by our daughters and granddaughters because we wish to keep them away from it.”

Raising an eyebrow, you knew that without looking despite the flatness of your voice and face a smirk found it's away onto Jon beside you. “Besides, I assure you my lords, your King is none to happy when I've been on the field of battle but he suffers through it all the same.”

Your eyes found Maege Mormont and she stood in agreement. “She's right. I lost one of my girls that night at The Twins, but I haven't let that stop me from making sure my four youngest can fight as well as my Dacey did until the end.”

The Frey's were only men, the Others were not. The death to follow when they come through these lands would be worse then the ones which killed so many already. Any who had no training whatsoever would stand not a second of a chance this time as Jon continued. “I'm not preparing our children for battle, I'm ensuring they know how to protect themselves. I'm not asking us to like it, but I am telling you, telling all of us, that this isn't about what we want anymore. It's about survival.”

Many waited to see if Lord Hornwood had any left to say against his King's word but sense seemed to find him more as the eyes turned to him in waiting judgment. None had noticed the figure slinking in the back of the room, short and unseen by most. Just as he begun to speak, “No one here is questioning-”

But the voice spoke up. Similar to you, it was on the air of quiet and soft spoken but as many turned to the voice they clearly felt the certainty in their words. “Your granddaughter does not need your permission to defend the North. My daughter is the fighter between her and her brother, and if they have no issue with it, neither should any of us.”

It took a moment as eyes watched for it to click, but it was easy for Jon. Catching a better glance at him as the crowd parted somewhat to make the man visible. Clothes made in tones of black and deep greens and the sigil etched into him of a black serpentine lizard. Judging by both age and wear in his eyes as the man found that of Jon's he knew right away who had stepped into his hall.

“Lord Howland, I've never had the pleasure.”

Howland Reed had looked up at Jon in silence for a moment. Something behind his eyes that had your lungs catch as if you recognized the hidden intent. But found little in your present mind to focus on it as such. He stepped between the standing crowd, pulling the hood down to properly address him. “I had not the courage to come before now, your grace. I ask to be given the chance to make amends for not stepping foot into the fight against the Boltons. Forgive my silence and allow me to serve you now when I had not your brother, our late King.”

It was quiet in the room as Jon had nothing but respect in his eyes. “You saved my fathers life during the Rebellion, without you many of us might not be standing here as we are today. You will always be welcome a place here, my lord. There's nothing to forgive.” Howland Reed nodded, as did Jon before the former took his time taking his leave to slink at the wall of the main hall and hide amongst the larger men as a shadow would.

Jon turning once more to the crowd, as you had not sat down as he hadn't. Finding a silence with sharp, narrowed eyes but listening as intently as all others. “While we're preparing for attack, we need to shore up our defences. The only thing standing between us and the army of the dead is the Wall, and the Wall hasn't been properly manned in centuries. The last we had seen them was at Hardhome, the closest fort to there is Eastwatch by the Sea. Now if they do breach the Wall, the first two castles in their path are Last Hearth and Karhold.”

Interrupting, a womans voice came from the back of the room, “The Karstarks betrayed the North.” A rumbling ran through the hall, and you spared a glance with Jon. Both of you sitting with unease at the riling up which easily could come through and a question on his at how deep did this issue run he did not know the details of. “Their Keep should be torn down with not a stone left standing.”

As voices begun to rile up, you glanced through the room, eyes finding Smalljon Umber, sitting himself quiet with something trying to breach his tongue. Your own voice spoke first, “The Karstarks did not betray the North. Rickard Karstark betrayed his King, that is a far cry from-”

Even as other voices spoke up, you were thankful this was not your first time acting as a speaking leader to a rowdy crowd of Northerners . But you did not quite grasp why it seemed Lady Barbery Dustin was so intent on vocalizing her disagreement when before she had not. “So there is no punishment for treason?”

Glancing to Jon, there was a darker tint in his eyes that did not reiterate whatever it was they were aiming towards as he addressed her. “The Karstarks have fought beside the Starks for centuries. They've kept faith generation after generation-”

“And then they broke faith.”

You didn't like that you couldn't place her tone. Something was frustrating that put the hall into silence as heads all turned to Jon, many you could see teetering on speaking up in defence of their King. But he was not a man who needed others to do that for him. Not now. His brows narrowed slightly as he once more let his voice speak loud and verging on losing his patience. “I'm not going to strip a family of their ancestral home because of the crimes of a few reckless sons.”

Baited breath all waited, the tint of anger seeping in Lady Barbrey's voice making your own eyes narrow. “So there's no reward for our loyalty, but the House you fought against with the Boltons receive nothing for their treason?” Something kept banging in your head, but you didn't know what and it had been a long time since you felt it for something not so urgently dire. You just couldn't place what the feeling was.

Not for a moment however, did Jon entertain this debate. Waiting for the whispering to settle before he addressed the room as a whole. “When I was Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, I executed men who betrayed me. I executed men who refused to follow orders. My father always said, the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword, and I have tried to live by those words.” His eyes found hers, and he too, couldn't place something standing out of her comments. “But I will not punish a son for his father's sins, and I will not take a family home away from a family it has belonged to for centuries. That is my decision. And my decision is final.”

But, it instead seemed, the question found its way to Smalljon Umber as he stood, “Your grace, if I may. I have been close with many of the Karstarks my whole life, and I do not disagree with your decision but there is one who has not come forth.”

Say it, you thought. Say what you had all been thinking since that day in Deepwood Motte. Tell Jon how his little brother ended up on the path to his burial in the crypts below.

“Ramsay Bolton spent much time trying to organize manners in which to get our Queen back in his captivity. And it was through those plans which he found Rickon Stark, knowing if one Stark could be found he assumed you would be willing to negotiate a trade.” Looking guilty, you knew it wasn't going to be easy admitting it. He and Harald had been close friends as long as you had known both men and whispers begun once more to flourish through the halls at his words, but he continued regardless. “Harald Karstark had held bad blood between him and our Queen for his fathers execution, and saw his vengeance fit as leading men to search out for Rickon Stark and bring him to Ramsay.”

Anger rippled through as the sight of Rickon falling to the ground played right before your eyes, and a burning in your veins at what you didn't do to stop it. In your chest the increase of your heart felt unkind. Jon's voice beside you was as tight and restrained as you could see in the clenching of his jaw as your eyes flickered to his tone. “Lord Glover put the same accusation forth, but if you have no more proof then we had then-”

The court went back and forth, but you couldn't hear. Or feel or see anything as something dark encroached your vision. The voice of one man screamed in the halls over the sounds of pouring rain that all boomed so loudly you almost flinched. “Kill me and be cursed. You are no King of mine.”

What were they saying around you? Your pounding heart cut every path to your lungs and it burned within you as you suffocated in the sounds of yelling and whispering all as voluminous as the other.

“If Rickard Karstark was alive, Rickon would be alive too.”

“If you stayed dead, his brothers wouldn't be.”

“They all know its your fault.”

“Jon blames you.”

“Ramsay's whore.”

Was anyone speaking anymore? Were you alone in the hall and yet not many noticed how white from strain your knuckles had turned as your palms braced against the wood. What was anyone even saying all voices felt as if they were fading away and the room dimmed from the afternoon to something dark and only just as you lifted your head to the room did you hear it.

The voice calling your name clearer then anyone and in the hall at the end was one you knew, and yet in your waking hour your understanding escaped you of who you had seen. You had no voice though, you found no way to call out to him as he was finally in front of you after so many years. But he walked carefully, an arm outstretched as he spoke almost upset and desperately. “I didn't mean for this, any of this, to happen this way. I was trying to help but now I don't know how to make it stop..”

You once more failed to open your mouth with words instead only blood spilled out. He came forward looking more and more upset and as he to stand in front of you? An arm reaching out to you like a boy desperate to fix things did the strings begin to play.

They played and they increased so loud you knew the both of you no longer could hear any including each other as they grew enough he had to cover his ears it was so painful. But then you heard one more voice behind you. “Afterall, my King is long overdue a wedding gift for he and his Queen.”

The boy tried grabbing you with both hands to pull you away but the stringed music was so loud you couldn't even hear him call your name until the music stopped and the hall was silent was you heard Catelyn yelling Robb's name in desperate warning.

A different set of hands grabbed you from behind to pull you back and the other reached around forward and just as the sharpness of the blade sunk deep into your stomach did you startle back to the world.

The cup in front of you had been knocked down in your startle as it clanked against the ground and the contents spilled across the table and dripping to the floor. Interrupting what was seemingly a display of commands from Jon as a few other men now stood in the clearing near the high table but all eyes looked at you.

The only pair of eyes that were not looking in worried fear, were in the very back from a now very curious Howland Reed.

By the time the meeting had dispensed, Jon instantly almost threw his hand down on one of yours against the table the second you made to move. Not a thought in your mind in that second but the list of things you were intending to do that day, but Jon squeezed it and it kept you in place, if not willingness of your own then by his strength alone.

You had almost missed half of the meeting, and part of you worried that it was a scolding coming your way, in what you knew was a strangely childish notion. Ser Davos made his way from the now depleting crowd towards the high table as Jon glanced at you with a raised eyebrow for a moment. An almost indiscernible slow blink that told him enough to decide to let your hand go. “Not common from what I've seen that one of your own people argue with you so freely.”

Giving the benefit of the doubt, Jon exhaled out the irritation to let it simmer. “Northerners don't tend to hold back how they feel. Can't blame her for that.” Still, not one of the three of you looked with any ease as if the strange scenario of the whole meeting sat amongst everyone still now.

Footsteps came approaching, directing the attention to Howland who gave a courteous bow as he approached. “If I could spare a moment of your time, your grace?” Jon nodded and Howland closed the gap stepping up the small stairs to the high table where you all stood with much less authority. “Your father was a friend who meant a lot to me, but I feel as if I've failed my duties to what remains of his family. I sent aid but did not join Robb Stark's war in the South, nor did I come to your aid in either battles you have lead since.”

Jon shook his head, tone deeper now as it fell in volume to a more normal softness. “One of my brothers from the Nights Watch met your two children, told me that they're part of the reason why Bran is still alive, still out there. They may not be here to thank, but I can thank you for sending them to help him.”

A fond smile on the mans face formed, thoughts of children he could sometimes barley understand and yet knew them better then a soul else. “Hardly my choice, your grace. I raised them to be too much like myself, made that choice all on their own once they knew what needed to be done.” Crossing his arms he inhaled, “My boy, Jojen, he was the one who realized it was your brother who needed help. He has the Sight. He can see things in his dreams, from the past and things that haven't happened yet.”

“Promise me, Ned.”

Ser Davos could see your unnerved silence, and decided he had not the patience for such mysteries, not after seeing what happened that night on the ship with you. His tone was short and verging on an irritation that didn't mean to be directed at anyone, but came off at the man anyways. “And how would he be able to do that?”

“I'm afraid I don't have all the answers for you. Jojen had the Sight, not myself. I only know what he told me and that is very little compared to the power behind this sort of thing.” You wanted to flee the room but you were glued down in your very feet rooted in place. “But whatever counsel I can offer to both of you, I am here to make available to you, should you wish to have it.”

Directing his attention back to Jon, you could only glance to Davos as you both felt more uneasy about what was being said on this day then either Northerners seemed to come off as. And it wasn't until you both made your leave, did either of you say word of it. “I'm not here to pass judgment, but the more people talk around you of magic and visions the more stress it's putting on your shoulders.”

Standing out in the breeze of the walkway overlooking the training yard, you both kept eyes on the men begin running through some very basics with the the young ones around. You voice distant as was the glaze over your eyes watching as if years ago looking back to yourself. At least this time you knew it was that of only a memory. “Everything always falls on Jon now, it seems only fair I take some of that burden for myself.”

Your forearms were leaning against the railing, hands clasped together as Davos moved to mimic the posture as to speak quiet to only you. “And he's far better at handling it then you.” Only a single nod was given in return, you had nothing to deny of that. “What was it they said about the Targaryeans? Every time ones born the gods flip a coin? Maybe we should check with Selyse, make sure your father's not secretly one of them, that's making you lose your mind.”

It was a joke, it was Davos making light of the worry to quell it in both of you for the conversation but it strangled you until you felt your heart pounding so hard you felt dizzy. Trying to utter out in jest, and failing at the tone, “Not sure that's how it works. You don't become mad, you're born that way and only time and power will bring it out eventually.”

He could sense something rigid in your posture that wasn't there before, but no idea what would be running through your mind to cause it. “Put a lot of thought into it, have you?”

Your eyes found Jon in the distance, and you felt that strangulation surround you and overwhelm your senses. Vines stemming from blue roses wrapping around each limb until it consumed you as they burned and pleaded of a promise.

“I grew up in the shadow of the Targaryeans. Difficult not to.”

It was in a moment alone did you finally reread it. Alone now up on the landing, you leaned down enough to grab something hidden in your boot, a long standing way you've kept papers from hidden eyes when you needed to keep it on you. Wolkan said the letter had come in while away on Dragonstone and he had only shown it to you, the contents being unusual as it was addressed to you specifically.

After learning what you had, you didn't want to risk anyone finding it out until you could ensure they were somewhere safe, enough had been done to them all at that point and so few of you left. But Jon would want to know why and for what you had to go there and you didn't want to risk that answer before you understood what was going on. Any hint of who was there in the wrong hands could mean the worst, and enough of that had happened already.

Writing in a crude style of code seemed to be a habit in that line of blood. You knew right away what was being said, however. Repeating something particular he once said. The day you and Eddard Stark had gone to the armoury of Tobho Mott, that was what the boy had said when asked if Stannis had questioned him at all.

“He never said a word. Just glared at me like I was some raper who done in for his daughter.”

You could only imagine how alone he was, for you to be the one he found a way to reach out too.

Met once and never forgotten that feeling as you looked him in the eye. Like you were looking at your twin. And now you knew two things for certain, he knew you were blood family and the only living one of Robert Baratheons bastards was Gendry.

You were glad he was alive, but you also felt somewhat ill that it wasn't Barra. She would have been what? Four years old? How horribly was she ripped away from that young girl who was her mother? All the years passed, and the young girl in Petyr Baelish's brothel likely still wouldn't even be the age you were when you met her. The brightness in her eyes as she looked at you cooing at what was your newborn cousin, asking if you agreed that she looked just like him.

And she did. Dark hair growing fast as Baratheon babies always did, bright green eyes and a look of mischief you knew was present as well in your blood. You desperately hoped the girl was doing alright. That she had gotten free of such a life and found love elsewhere that wouldn't be stricken by blood.

Knowing the kind of man Petyr Baelish was, you doubted it.

It was later Jon had startled you when he finally came across you in a moment of quiet. Very suddenly a warm presence at your back as two hands slid across before pulling you gently back against his standing position to your sitting one. “Do you know how to relax anymore?”

A hum left your throat, as a small half smirk formed on your face. “For your information, I have been scouring through letters looking for desperate marriage proposals.” A deep grunt barley made it out of Jon's chest before you huffed a laugh as the feeling of his hands increased in tightness. “I never said they were for me, my King.”

Glancing up and slightly behind you, Jon raised an eyebrow teetering on his own amusement before leaning more down to put his head more level to where yours was. Tone a deep rasp in your ear as one hand left your arm, “And I'd say no to them before I even got to their name.” Grabbing the raven scroll in your hand he mindlessly tossed it onto the table in front of you before turning you to look back at him enough he could press his lips to yours.

Soft and gentle they were, nothing but a coaxing for you to follow his lead as you relaxed into his touch with a sigh into his own mouth. A motion causing Jon to pull away only long enough to laugh a smile into his next kiss which was a little more innocent of a peck then the other. Yet just as you were to melt into him, your own hand reached up suddenly and grasped at his hand wandering towards sneaking into the top of your dress.

A chuckle left him deep as you pulled away with narrowed eyes as he pressed another kiss to the side of your head. Mumbling at him in playful disapproval, “How am I supposed to help run your kingdom when every time I get somewhere, you come along and distract me?”

Almost without even thinking, or without any effort much to your constant surprise. Jon all but yanked you up off the seat to take the place himself, pulling you back down onto his lap sideways with a yank at your dress. A small yelp leaving you as you steadying yourself with arms around his shoulders and back of his neck as you glared at him. Jon barley even reacted to your irritation. “I'm the one running this Kingdom.” A hand wrapped around your waist keeping you to him while the other gently begun to run through the hair loose at the side of you face. “You, are here to keep me from losing my mind, and to relax for once in your life.”

The same hand now danced along and begun raking through the hair at the back of your head, gently readjusting every time he came across a slight tangle to not jostle you as he did so. Your nails mindlessly scratched very lightly along his neck and what you could reach of his collarbone. “We both know one of those two things I am abysmal at.”

Grey eyes bright as he looked at you, Jon gave another half smile only a little softer to match the genuity behind the rest. “You're right. I can lose my mind just looking at you too long.” He laughed more freely the second you rolled your eyes, making your own cheeks warm at the sound. It felt like you so rarely got to hear him laugh anymore. There was rarely reason for it. Saying your name gently, he prompted you to look at him. “Everything you've been through, sometimes I think you forget that you've barley had a chance to breathe since getting away from them.”

He wasn't wrong. It hadn't even reached a year since you escaped that day with Theon, and yet it felt as if more then a lifetime had passed between you all. Many lifetimes had passed for you and Jon especially.

It was one thing after another and the only time in between them were a day or two before something else. Biting your tongue as your eyes narrowed lost away in thought, one of your hands instinctively reached up to run along the facial hair scratching at his jaw, while the other slipped right down and pressed over his heart.

Only months ago you had stepped into the Ice Cells of Castle Black and traced over the wounds in Jon's chest. Dead and cold long enough he had turned tints of blue creeping into his skin. If that was months, then the Twins felt like decades. “Hard to remember that sometimes.”

Quiet between you for a moment, you instead couldn't move past the thought. It lingered a second too long and now took up space in your consciousness that couldn't be ignored. Slowly and deliberately, you had begun the process of unlacing the shirt covering his chest. Shaking your head as he spoke your name in a question, to just let you work.

Not all the way, but you opened it enough that a hand could slip inside of the material and trace along his chest. Pulling back more naturally as you did so, you exposed the scars littered about. They looked truly just as gruesome as when they were hours fresh. You weren't sure you'd ever be able to look at them, and not feel as sick and horrified as you did the first time.

Your eyes far away as you traced them, narrowing in sharpness following the path of each and feeling how they both had not healed, but seemed to just exist outside of him. You could feel the skin around your wounds but not when one touched the scars itself, and you imagined it was the same as you did so now.

Only feeling your touch when your fingers jumped from one scar to the next and never when tracing their red path. Glancing up suddenly, you found the ones by his eye. One faint and white now as it sat at the top and bottom of his eye only visible if you were close enough. The other, sometimes it was easy to forget about. You had been used to seeing Jon with blood and scratches on him, but then there was this one.

Reaching up, you traced along it as your face could have come off as cold or angry to any who weren't the man in front of you. It still sat red. It was red and painful looking now but didn't heal since, long and curved along the side of his face by his other eye. That one wasn't healing either. You still had marks from an arrow lodged in your upper back and by your shoulder, even though at the time, you didn't even register it.

They hit you, but you barley comprehended it. You had barley comprehended your stomach, as you looked up at Robb before collapsing to the ground as you grew freezing cold in seconds.

“Why us?” Jon watched you closely, his quiet speaking the question for him. “Why only us that came back? No one else came back, that woman was trying to do some ritual to accomplish it..but we..no one did anything for us. We just..woke up..” Your hand still sat on the scar beside his eye, voice far and lost. “I didn't understand it then, and I still don't.”

Grabbing your hand for himself, Jon pressed his lips to your palm before holding it over the mark right on his heart. “Maybe we're not meant to.” Your eyes dropped, but Jon moved the arm around your waist back so he could tilt your chin back up gently to look at him. “Everyone wants to be special, or look to someone else like their special. But you and I both know coming back like this doesn't feel like that. I'm tired and walking around worried I came back so angry I'm going to lose it one day, you came back and think that you're the one everyone wants to lose it on. Coming back didn't make you and me some chosen ones, it just brought us back different.”

Your free hand continued it's path, tracing gently along his jaw and thumb brushing briefly over his bottom lip before you relented. Leaning forward to press your lips to his, leaving but a light peck that lingered as your held hands over his heart tightened together but did not leave one another. Resting your forehead against his you ran that hand along his jaw once more. “Says the one who can warg into his own direwolf.”

“That's not exclusive to me.” A small grin on his face as you almost shook your head at him.

Both of you sat in the quiet for a little while, nothing but the crackling of fire to accompany you until you spoke up once more. The dry tone returning to your voice. “By the way, your grace, you in fact did get a proposal of marriage.”

The swiftness in which Jon pretended to find interest had you drop your expression so flat it made him laugh quite a lot. Standing up from him, you pulled your dress from his attempted grasp to yank you back to him, with a childish glare. “If you're so interested, my King, go right ahead. Shame you won't have much time though, your new betrothed is rather old in her years. Bearing children might be something of a challenge, I'm afraid.”

If he had expected someone to know something of that secret, Howland Reed certainly did not think it would be the Queen in the North. Accosting him in his quarters the evening after he arrived in Winterfell for the first time in decades. But the moment you had knocked on his door, you all but barged in and locked the door behind you. Walking in towards the fireplace before turning to him as your hands braced on the wooden table in front of it.

Looking up at him as he tried to speak, you chose first. “You saved Lord Stark's life during the rebellion. Why?” Howland looked taken back for a moment when you repeated yourself but with much more sternness behind. “Why save his life? Why were you fighting to the death in the first place that day?”

Squinting in curiosity at you, he certainly played it safe. “I'd expect you know the story as well as any, we had gone there to rescue his sister, and the Kingsguard keeping her there did not take kindly to us accomplishing that.”

Once more you asked why, your eyes dark and your nerves racing like fire in your blood. “Rhaegar Targaryean took her there at the start of the rebellion, but by the time you had reached it? He was dead, the Mad King was dead. There was no one left to follow. Why fight to your death to keep an already dying teenage girl locked in a tower she can't escape from?”

Walking up to the other side of the table, Howland rested his hands more calmly at the top of the chair across you. His voice low but collected. “Kingsguard uphold their vows to a fault, even when it goes against protecting the innocent. He ordered them to keep her there, and they were going to follow it.”

The room was painfully silent before you shook your head. “She was dying, she couldn't run, she couldn't escape, there was no way to save her by then why not just let her brother come through and see her one last time? Why keep them away when the ones who gave them that order are dead, and it wouldn't make a difference to let him in the room to see his dying little sister?”

There was a pause in the man's eyes that you didn't miss for a second. It was a painful subject, you suspected few had ever asked in an aggressive manner as such before. Not to him at the least.

“If I could tell you why they would not allow it, I would. But I can't-”

“Can't you?” Standing up with an inhale you paced mindlessly deeper in the room before spinning to face him, arms crossing in front of you. “Lyanna was dying, you all would have found out eventually, it doesn't make sense to act as if they could hide that forever.” Your eyes found his, and he didn't move an inch. “Unless Lyanna wasn't the one in that tower they were trying to hide.”

The tension could be cut thick, it was brutal as both parties gave nothing away in their expressions almost in expert. “How did you-”

“I dreamt it.” You knew to a man like him, he'd take that without explanation but it sounded so silly as it came from your mouth you instantly stepped forward to justify it in ramblings. “I saw something in my dreams, more than once I saw it and it all kept leading me to that day and I never quite could figure it out until..” Sighing out, you leaned against the table with your back turned against it.

Your voice was hardly a whisper. Looking over to Howland he stood in stillness watching with any breathe hardly passing through him. “Everyone used to say Arya looked like Lyanna, but in truth she just looked enough like Ned that being a girl made the connection in their minds. But that also means if Ned looked enough like Lyanna that his own daughter was similar in appearance to her..then he would have an easy time passing off Lyanna's son as his own, wouldn't he?”

Once more he didn't speak, and you knew he wouldn't until you stripped this secret down to it's raw truth no matter how much you hated it. So you looked right at Howland Reed, giving him one more chance. “Who is Jon's father?”

His only response was but a whisper, “Ned was the man who raised him, who loved him. That's the father that matters.”

But it made you upset. It wasn't just about that, it wasn't a doubt of love. It was about a truth that had plagued Jon his entire life that was the core of so much of what happened. Turning to him, you spoke just as quiet. “Jon's wanted to know who his mother was his whole life. He's never felt without a father, he knows he had a father who loved him. But he deserves to know who his mother was.” Stepping closer your voice dropped more. “I know she begged him to promise to keep him safe, but look around. What of his life would put him at such risk anymore if he knows? It'll hurt, but it's always hurt him not knowing.”

Howland was dreadfully serious, “Ned kept that secret for almost twenty five years and he died with it. I've kept it now almost thirty, we did it to protect him. What happens if people knew? We could have done anything. Do what was done with the Mad Kings youngest, ship him off to Essos. Hid him somewhere in the realm with a no one family where he'd never find out, have him raised somewhere in the North away from Catelyn and her children but he didn't.” His whisper was angry as it was upset in your eyes. “He took that child in and raised him as his own son, because he loved him as his own son. With him, Ned knew without a doubt he could be safe.”

It choked in your throat, turning away as you ran a hand over your mouth to force it back down before you spoke. A sick memory coming back up and it felt dizzying to know. It was never just about right or wrong, it wasn't just about honour.

“You'll dishonour yourself forever if you do this.”

You almost didn't say it but it came out of its own accord. “Robert would have killed him.”

Looking to Howland, he stepped closer much less defence in his posture as you both ended up sitting down at the table to steady you on your uneasy feet now. “She was dying, covered in blood gods know how they had so little care that they left her there like that. He was no more then a week old when we got there, so she had to spend a week with her newborn son. Knowing the whole time she was going to die, and not knowing until that final day what would happen to him when she did.” It choked in Howland's voice too, a long time likely since he thought of what happened in that room.

Finding his eyes you recounted that day in the small council chamber, what the news was, what Roberts reaction was and Ned's too. “Gods it was never about honour, it wasn't about what was right. He stood there listening to his closest friend prove that even now if he found out the truth, it wouldn't make a difference.”

“Why do you think he let him join the Night's Watch?” You looked away from him, something choking in your throat. “His family was about to be deeply intertwined with the royal family again, and letting him go to the wall meant he was as far from anyone who would know or find out as could be. He was doing what he thought was best to protect him. That's what he always tried to do, he loved that boy until his last day I can promise you that.”

It was quiet in the room, and what you said next broke that as if your whisper was a shout. “I'm going to tell him.” Standing up, Howland followed coming to your side instantly in protest but you shook your head. “He needs to know-”

“We've kept this secret for decades to protect him, what was this all for if we just-”

Your voice however, wavered in more shattering upset rather then the anger you wished it sounded as instead. “Jon deserves to know the truth. He deserves to know he had a mother who loved him, and he deserves to know why she isn't here.”

Trying to move in your path, Howland kept you from reaching the door. “Twenty five years Ned let people think he was unfaithful to his wife to keep this a secret, let Jon be raised thinking he was the one who caused that smear on his honour.” Trying to keep you at arms bay, “Ned Stark did not do this to spend all of it in vain-”

But you shook from his grasp in an anger. It wasn't about them anymore, any of them. “This may have been Ned's secret, but it's Jons life.”

You hadn't been in the crypts since burying Rickon. You hadn't really been in Winterfell long enough to spend much time of any in here since that night. But you knew the path without any effort into figuring it out, or even paying attention.

Which you couldn't do, not now. Walking down here close to the ground where beneath the castle floors laid hot springs which kept the halls as warm as could be in the winter. You could feel your heart racing and your head filled with a lightness that made you dizzy but you had no choice now. It wasn't about you.

It was cruelly fitting, that Jon was down in the crypts to see his father as you walked to him. The truth was going to be all around him with no one but you to force it onto him and you hated it. You wished you could let Jon be ignorant and happier for it, but he deserved better then that. Everything he has been through, you wanted him to have the truth of his life.

But as you approached, Jon turned to the sound of your footsteps. Your name gentle on his lips and it carved a horrible agony in your lungs that stole your remaining breathe. Coming up to him, you paused as you took one last look before you ruined it. Again.

Hair still pulled back from the day, and not quite kicking the habit of his once position, the leathers and fabrics on him were sparser then before but dipped in black. A Snow, a Northerner more then any you'd ever met, and that was who he was inside, but you had to say it anyways. It was the right thing to do, but it didn't feel it.

You didn't notice you hadn't said anything until Jon gently cupped the sides of your cheeks, tilting you up to look at him, grey eyes bright and soft that made you want to cry to shatter them. His voice was a gentle rasp as he leaned down to you more, “Darling, talk to me. What happened?”

Looking up at him, you could only think in retrospective, that maybe you should have stolen one last kiss. You were already forgetting what it felt like in the days since. Sitting at a table inside of a tavern in Barrowton, looking across to Gendry certainly felt like another lifetime away from that night in the crypt however.

Tilting your head in question, you drew the sound of the letters out. “Satin?” Narrowing at you back you opened your mouth slightly to guide him into mouthing the fake name you had so he could say it out loud in the ruse. Keep it up as long as you two were in public at least.

“Mya? Would say I almost didn't recognize you, but think we both know that's a lie.” Pointing down at Olly he asked, “Whose this?” A suspicion on his face that you easily dismissed with a wave of your hand in his direction.

Your tone trying much more to fall into something a little less proper, a little less practised in formality then your father taught you for in public again. “Let's call him my ward. Ward this is Satin, Satin this is my ward, Olly.”

Leaning with a narrowed whisper, the boy asked why you got a fake name but he didn't, but it was Gendry who answered for you as he sat down. “Beacuse your a kid, and no one cares about the name of some kid in the middle of the North.”

Looking at you, and you back, there was a strange moment between you, where you two almost laughed simultaneously. Choosing instead to lean your arms against the table, “So, I heard my father tried to kill you. Glad we have something in common.”

Olly watched the tense silence, before watching in even more confusion as it was that which made the pair of you give a disbelieving laugh. A ridiculous set of events and ruin brought you here finally, but you at least knew one thing so far.

Gendry thankfully seemed to have inherited Robert Baratheon's ability to laugh in the most bizarre or uncomfortable situations. Ordering something for him to eat, you had a feeling the three of you were going to have a long night ahead.

Perhaps it should have been weirder, how easy it was to talk to him. But also, in a way it wasn't totally dissimilar to the way in which you got along with Renly. An easier going personality without as much smugness that made you want to slap your uncle sometimes, that was a major difference in a positive way. It was clear Gendry wasn't looking at things in terms of the life he could've had but rather the one he always did anyways.

“Nothing left for me in Kings Landing, tried figuring out where to go. Spent some time on and off ships anyways since, finding work, failing to find work. Not much out there.” Leaning forward, your gloves taken off as you had tried to find yourself more settled as you had asked him about how he even got this far North in the first place.

Glancing up, noting it getting at least somewhat darker out in the back of your head. “How bad are we talking?” Your mind trying to stretch all the way to the Riverlands and knowing you were simply without reach and even if you could who was left there to care who you used to be.

Shrugging, “Kept away from it mostly.” Biting your tongue you glanced a few times to the night sky out trying to keep the thoughts back again as he continued. “Anywhere that isn't at war is just poor and hungry. Think up here is the only place anyone has anything even sort of together.”

Arm crossing over the table, you narrowed your eyes at a spot of nothing in thought. “Wasn't easy getting here, only have barley begun even..” Looking up, it was as if both knew a conversation to happen but not here in the public view. “It's rather late, especially for this one.” Olly protesting as you nudged him as if a young child.

“If you've got nowhere planned to say, I have a spare room.” Gutting his chin outside to an Inn nearby explaining, “As long as I do the lady there free work, she lets me keep a room. Knowing how to smash metal with a hammer comes in handy anywhere turns out.”

The night was far cooler then when you had entered. The sky black and stars shining above as if none of the world turmoiled below them. Wrapping your cloak around you more tightly, and without a second of your own notice forcing Olly to do the same as if fussing over him. The air showing your breathe with every step. “How in seven hells do you get used to this?”

Glancing to you specifically, you shrugged. “Spent half my life here, either you get used to the cold or you complain and everyone is annoyed for it.” That glare wasn't meaningful but you didn't pass by how easily he looked at you in a familiar bantering as if you hadn't met more then just once over four years ago.

Teeth almost shaking as he walked, “Well I'm not used to it. So you best get used to me complaining about it.”

As Gendry made his way to the Inn front, you paused as you stepped right before the doors threshold, a strange feeling making something in your spine crawl up and leave a tingling behind. People were walking and passing but nothing that stood out and yet you watched anyways. As if sensing eyes on you, but there was nothing in your sights, and you walked in regardless.

“You're being silly.”

An almost indignant tone came over Sam as he looked at Gilly with a look he hoped was serious. “I am not, I think we have good reason to be careful. What we have?”

Giving him a doubtful look, Gilly turned to Little Sam who was now actively taking things from her own bowl of stew and putting it in his mouth. It had been a long trip, and just getting to the North itself had taken its tole on the small boy. “Who are the maesters going to send? Or know where we are?” Trying to feed her son now instead of letting him run rampant, she then gave Sam a look. “You should eat too.”

Grimacing, the sheer idea of it now made him unwell. The journey to Oldtown the first time was no pleasant experience, but this time it was a smaller ship on even rockier waters. The moment they sailed up the smaller rivers to where they were to stop in Barrowton, Sam had to all but put the texts he took with him on the other side of their small room he was so sure he was going to throw up on them.

Now they sat with their small amount of things at his side, or would stay in their room as long as they were here. The small set of tables sat on the bottom floor of the Inn, not many were around as the night grew colder and people settled in. Not that cold bothered them the same way, not where they met.

“If I eat now, I'll be getting up in three minutes to bring it back out as soon as it hits my stomach.” He glanced with a playful glare at Little Sam, who when catching the look playfully gave one back. “I wish I was as good as you are, napping whenever we set sail. Would save myself a lot of trouble.”

For the most part they ignored everyone else, they weren't staying here long. Enough to rest, and make a plan to get to Winterfell easy as possible. It was weird to think about, Sam had never seen it before and never thought he'd have reason too. But now, he was heading there not just for one person he knew, but to request an audience.

Glancing back to Gilly, Sam leaned in a bit as if keeping a secret, when in truth everyone around him obviously was entirely aware of who Jon was. “Hard to imagine that he's King of this, all of this. How do we even think that happened? He turned down King Stannis's offer of being Lord of Winterfell, turned down being made a Stark but now he's King in the North. You think he wears a crown?”

Little Sam laughed, trying to get out half decent sentences in his young age and on top of being just tired enough to not swallow his food before doing so. “He'd look funny,”

Gilly turned him more to face her with a grin, “Do you even remember what he looks like?” Her hands poking at her son playfully. The small little family sat there, minding their own when the front door opened to let the cold wind blow in. Just enough that mists of snow flickered about the floor.

Two dark haired figures walked in, one looking more at an ease while the other had sharp eyes looking around with a more stern expression which matched the cold outside. A shorter, younger one came in close to the woman, but instinctively Sam drew his attention elsewhere. But, just as fast as Sam glanced away, he looked back suddenly with his own sharper gaze. But the third person he had looked back for now was turned with his back to them and a thick cloak covering most of him.

Gilly had to call his name twice before Sam looked back to her, as she asked what was he looking at. But Sam watched the now empty staircase as they disappeared down the hall, eyes blinking heavily as he shook them out. “Been at sea too long. Think we could all do with some sleep.”

Too many nights with his head overboard, and Sam was already starting to see things.

“He seems attached to you.” Glancing to the now closed door where Olly slept, both you and Gendry shared a more sullen glance. “Just something I've noticed in the whole two hours I've known you.”

Shrugging, you turned from the sight with more down trodden of a tone then before only hinted with a tinge of amusement. “If we include the first time we met, we can make it a whole two hours and three minutes.” The chuckle shared was genuine from him, not from you and he easily picked that up. A long beat passed before you turned the mood down significantly, a weight heard in your throat. “I almost don't want to ask how you found out the truth.”

It shifted in him as well, something more serious and uncomfortable to think on. “Where do I even start? Where I left Kings Landing the first time, or when the red woman showed up.” Your eyes flew over to him with a dark tint as your jaw clenched, and you felt that sinking inside you. “I ended up in the Riverlands, was with the Brotherhood Without Banners and they told me I could stay on with them, serve Lord-”

Interrupting him, a hand waving out as your face twisted in confusion. “Maybe we should begin where I had last actually seen you, because I feel as if I've missed a few key details.”

It was simple, explaining how his master got sick of him, sold him to the Nights Watch and left him on the Kingsroad. That was until he mentioned the Gold Cloaks. “They showed up, came looking for a bastard named Gendry. Yoren threatened them, told them to piss off and they left. Until more came in the middle of the night a while later..killed a bunch of people and took the rest of us hostage to Harrenhal.”

Everything as Lord Tywin Lannister showed up, and you felt a sickness in your blood trying not to think of that night. Explaining that they had escaped when you once more interrupted. Asking when this all had happened. Trying to estimate a time, you had begun doing your own thoughts in your head and you not in any way liked the implications that you came close too. By the time Tywin had left, they escaped soon after and you realized how close you had missed him by.

Were you already on the road to Harrenhal when this happened? How close to Edmure's attack did they come? “I don't know how she did it, but Arya managed to get this Jaqen fellow to help us-”

“Arya?” If your blood cooled before it ran fast and dizzying now.

Nodding, he seemed to think perhaps you knew but judging by the slightly agape of your mouth and wide eyes in disbelief, he realized that no, maybe it made sense you didn't know about this. “Yoren was taking her to Winterfell, disguised as a boy, or trying to at least. Convinced this guy Jaqen to help us and we escaped, ended up running into the Brotherhood and in turn ran into The Hound.”

Your arms came up to the table between you, resting your forehead in your palm as your elbow sat perched. The world spun too much then and now, too much here and there and names you never thought you'd hear of again. The last you had seen Arya was the morning you were arrested, she had been upset she was leaving, but still otherwise was just a girl. But this tale Gendry spun wasn't one that would have let her stay that way.

No one had heard from her, and every mention from the capitol didn't include her and you, Robb, and Catelyn all didn't like to talk about what you felt that implied. Most seemed to presume her dead, and you had none the reason to think otherwise, and yet you sat with a pull at your heart that she had been so close.

She was so close to her family, Robb came so close to getting to her and now it was all for nothing again. “Anyways, the red woman showed up, and they sold me to her. Dragged me off in a cage and I never saw Arya again. Don't know where she is, or if she's still alive. All I know is how mad she was when the woman came and took me. Not that things went well after that either.”

You two were there for a while, a back and forth of what happened, what the red woman did and what your father almost let her do until Ser Davos was the only one who did the right thing. It was nothing short of a miracle Gendry would even want to try and find you after all of that. The quiet burned around you both, and there was little left in either of you to say.

You lacking the ability to have words you knew to say, and Gendry used up the remains of ones he had all spoken. Nothing meaningful at least. “Said something about how there's power in our blood, whatever that means.”

It burned under your dress, the scar. There was something in your blood, blood from Kings as you sat alive with a wound so fatal you faded in but minutes. But how would you even tell him that? Tell anyone that. No one understood, no one but one, and you had no idea if he even still cared. Or you were just too much of a coward to want to know.

“So what now?” Gendry meeting your eyes, finding a purposely colder and stiff look giving little away in your own. “You're in the North, what do you do now? Stay here or what?”

Shrugging, he leaned back in his seat. Glancing to the window shining bright before speaking with a casualness you wished you had ever possessed. “Don't know. Most of my life I've just been dragged from one thing to another. Never really had much choice all on my own before now. Think I'm just trying to enjoy what that feels like for the first time.” You nodded absentmindedly before he gestured to you. “What about you? Queen in the North all the way out here pretending to be some commoner like me, what's your plan?”

Nothing of how you were here was like you, but what else did you know anymore? Who were you but a liar, and liars don't get to have detailed life plans as you had done so before. You had no answer, and it seemed he filled in the blanks for you.

“Maybe you could try being me for once. Just do whatever comes your way until something else drags you away from that. Not very Queen like but it's not like you care about looking like one.” Your eyes narrowed in a playful glare tinged with an exhaustion as he chuckled to himself. “Came all this way to meet me, we might as well stay here a bit and find out if we hate each other or not.”

You almost laughed, and he at least caught the intent in your eye. “Won't take long I imagine. Not like my side of this family is known for our charm.” Your eyebrows raised in a passive amusement as his brightened with more of a nodding grin. “Though, I can't say Robert was exactly the perfect image of an admirable man.”

As you stood up, Gendry followed with a question of his own. “Is that meant to be mocking me?”

You shrugged one shoulder, “Do you drink a lot?” He shook his head no, “Spend a lot of time with whores?” The shake of his head that time was a fervent no. Waving a hand in the air before letting it drop to your side, you relented. “Already have two things more going for you then Robert did.”

It was quiet again for a bit, at least until like children you found things both to be petty about. Gendry it seemed, wasted no time in finding ways to make fun of you for with your title. “I would be humbled for the Queen to take my only remaining bed. Sleeping on the floor would do me a great honour.”

Throwing a small pillow at him, which he caught with ease, you shook your head as you passed him by, moving towards the main room away from both chambers. “I slept on the floor of a dungeon for six months, I think I can manage one more night without a bed.”

Gendry turned with a point. “Is everyone in our family this insufferable?” When you smirked, he tried not to as well. “At least we're consistent.”

As the night progressed and more silence fell over the quarters of the Inn, you could at least find any semblance of solace that this truth of family did not destroy the only good thing you had in your life, not yet anyways.

Sam could not figure out why the trio he saw the night before was still fresh on his mind. It was as if in another life they were people he had met, when Sam had hardly been anywhere in Barrowton yet beyond the docks and the path to the Inn. Even now as Gilly and Little Sam were beside him, as she was enjoying the sights as she always managed too, Sam was still thinking about it.

He could see closer to the water front, two figures. Backs to him, but one with long dark hair against a thin cloak which reminded him of before until he realized it was in fact them. The boy was next to her, and the third of the group was nowhere to be seen as of yet. He hadn't wanted to seem as if spying was what he was doing, but as Gilly was distracted, and he couldn't help himself.

Closer, but far enough away a man like Sam appeared no out of the ordinary, he could barley hear voices. The boy sounded familiar, but not recognizable through the fading distance and the woman was closer anyways. He was sure he had not recognized hers, but she spoke more refined then her appearance would speak of.

“Have you never been this close to the open water before?” The boy shook his head no, and the girl nudged his shoulders for a moment, leaning more against the stone. “This is nothing, you should see how the sea looks on a ship. Only water for miles, like it never ends.”

“Maybe it doesn't.” The boy still didn't peel his eyes from the view. “My father used to say the Sunset Sea never ends, no one's ever survived a journey out there.”

What sounded like a smile could be heard on her voice, even from where Sam strained. “Is that what sounds adventurous to you? Well let me know when you plan dying at sea, I'll pay for the ship myself if you are so inclined.” Another pause between them, Sam wasn't sure what the boy said, he was rather quiet against the sounds of the town around them, but she once more spoke far clearer, making her the one Sam could listen too. “You follow along the river long enough, you'll reach out to Blazewater Bay and from there the sea is yours to follow as much as you want. Maybe you'll end up on the other side of the world eventually.”

He said something and the woman laughed fairly freely. “I don't know if I have ever heard something sound so amusingly forced coming from your mouth before. But I'll have to pass on that opportunity. I have no interest in seeing that far West, or East for that matter. Westeros is large enough as it is for how little I've seen of it.”

“Sam?” Turning his head, Gilly has rejoined him with a question bright in her eyes. “What are you doing?” All three of them looked the way Sam did, the pair speaking too quiet to catch either of their voices now.

Tilting his head, he wondered if he had spent too much time around Maesters and the open sea. He was starting to read into things which didn't exist. He had too much on his plate to start that now, he would have too much to look into anyways when they got there, part of him still hoped he would be allowed to stay, just for a little while.

Looking back to Gilly, he shook his head. “Thought one of them looked familiar, is all. Are you ready to go back, yet or is there more you want to see?”

Thinking to herself for a moment, she adjusted Little Sam in her arms, before both of them glanced back to each other with a more amused look. “I think Sam here might start getting cranky if we're out here much longer.” The poor boy looked tired, spending that much time so young at sea must not be good for a young one his age.

Trying to look as if he was fine, Sam smiled as he didn't buy it. Running a hand over Little Sam's bright blonde hair, he leaned in. “Then how about we find you and your mother something to eat before she gets cranky right with you.”

Indignant as she was amused, Gilly protested. “I do not get cranky.”

Sam could only laugh as they begun to walk. “Oh, yes you do.” But it was then he looked over the closer they walked. The perfect moment did Sam look and the boy turned around to the town and Sam stopped in an instant.

Looking at one another, Sam knew he recognized him. Nudging Gilly, he whispered as his eyes kept on the boys, now wide as it registered to him as well. “Gilly isn't that-” Sam had no inclination as to why, but he looked not in a register of familiarity as they parted was of, but something fearful.

Her own eyes narrowed in confused recognition. “What is he doing all the way out here?” Too right a question Sam thought, what was all the way in Barrowton a place Olly just so happened to be in? With a pair he didn't recognize and certainly given a woman was by his side, not from the Nights Watch either.

Both had approached that direction, but Olly had turned to the woman by then. Speaking in low tones, her head turned around and a dark, narrowed look came about her eyes as she whipped it back in whispering tones. Back and forth they went until she turned to face as they approached.

All but forcing Olly to stand behind her protective stance. Whatever they were whispering about, it left Olly more on edge then Sam had seen the boy in a very long time.

Sam knew they were not ones looking threatening, but the woman glared at them as if they posed one all the same. Regardless, Sam asked, “Olly, what are you doing all the way out here?”

But he glanced over to the woman, who kept him behind her without question. As she spoke without wavering or question, there was more then just something refined in her tone, there was something that of a stern authority as she only asked a question in reply. “How do you know him?”

Head tilting back a back, Sam was a bit on air of confused as Olly seemed tense and her even moreso. It was a strange way to see him again. Sam trying to explain himself as not confronting as possible, but he barely got half a sentence out before she struck another question. “I, he came to Castle Black, we met-”

“What's a man of the Night's Watch doing in Barrowton then?”

Truly he, Gilly and Little Sam couldn't possibly look that much of a threat. But as she offered up no information, Sam realized he wasn't sure what to say either. After everything it took to get all the way North again, he had not prepared such an explanation for that wasn't the only truth he thought he'd need to share. So caught up in where he needed to go, forgetting what he'd tell people on the way. “Olly, is everything alright? You know this woman-”

“You think he's with me against his will?” More taken back, Gilly beside him was quiet as she was also watching the woman with a curiosity that she seemed to not appreciate. “He is with me under my protection, no less, no worse.”

It was then Gilly stepped forward, trying her own hand with a quiet but lulling sound to her voice, “Look, maybe we should start over, we meant no harm. Just wanted to make sure he was okay.”

Olly's voice was short but Sam wasn't sure why. He seemed defensive in a fearful way, not aggressive as the woman was. “I'm fine. I was sent here to look for someone, and Mya was helping me. She's my friend.” Easing up a bit it seemed, she moved so her arm wrapped back to pull him more into her side, still not quite as openly hostile but refusing to ease up on her distrust.

Sam paid no mind right away. “Sent by who? Jon- well I suppose not, if he isn't Lord Commander anymore. Whose there if he's King now? Oh, I'd hate for it to be Ser Alliser.” Something uneasy sat between the two of them that was hard to understand. But Gilly once more spoke up.

Readjusting her hold of her son before looking around and back. “We just wanted to know if he was okay, we meant no harm. Right, Sam?”

Sam, looked at her almost offended for a moment as if that thought never crossed his mind. That he could look the one who was threatening. “What?” Before whipping back to the woman, Mya. “No, of course not. I just..I know what you've been through, Olly. I just wanted to know why you were all the way out here alone.”

“Well, he's not alone.”

He hadn't answered why if he was from the Nights Watch why he was here and neither had she explained what she was doing there with Olly, and yet the tension was broken by a growing familiar figure walking up almost the most confused. The dark haired man Sam saw enter the Inn first the night before. He spoke far quicker, and with a much more casual attitude. “I leave you alone for a few hours and you get yourself into trouble?” Their eyes almost glared at one another before he turned around to face Sam with a far more simple air of apology. “Sorry about my sister, I got our mothers charm, she got our fathers attitude.” Turning to her with an amused glint in his eye, “Just so talented at making friends everywhere you go, aren't you?”

It was hard to tell if the look in her eye was wanting to shove her brother, or tell him to shut up. A close tie it seemed, that won draw in doing nothing but glare. Sam looked between them both, before turning to the two beside him. “You're right, we should start over. I'm Sam, this is Gilly.”

Gilly nodding to the young one in her arms, “And you can call this one Little Sam.”

If anyone, which was everyone, was surprised at how easily Mya lightened up, it was tenfold as she gave a little wave to Little Sam, who gave a shy wave back that had her smile gently. Her brother directing attention back. “I'm Satin, this is my sister Mya. We're just helping Olly here out is all, meant no trouble for the Nights Watch or anything. Gods know it's cold enough here without being forced the way up there for getting in your way.”

Gilly looked at her curiously, and still she and Sam could tell Mya didn't like it one bit. But despite the distrust, she ignored the look in Gilly's eye, and came up with the suggestion anyways.

Mya's green eyes more then once had glanced to how closely they kept their things on them, and Sam could only hope they didn't think her a thief or anything. He'd keep their things close no matter what, it was just not simple to explain that. Little Sam now sat on the opposite of the table to her, as all six of the group had agreed to sit down and perhaps start over a little less hostile. Olly stuck by her side, deathly quiet but calm.

“I'm not sure there's anything nice I'd say about Bravvos. Crowded, and it feels like every other person is judging you knowing you don't fit in.” Somehow the discussion had turned to what places they all had seen and without revealing much details as to why he was there, Sam found himself going on about their time in Bravvos.

Sipping at the ale in the mug given to him, Satin tilted his head a bit. “Anything's better then Flea Bottom. Crowded, dirty, everyone's poor. Half the nobles there are too afraid to go to the sept without protection like we're going to attack them at random or something.”

Gilly asked if that was where they both were from, and for a moment they glanced at one another in a matching expression he couldn't figure out before Mya answered for them. “Was. Sometimes it felt though like I'd go years without seeing you, how busy we both were down there.”

Not quite realized at the table, the degree of lying happening on all sides and yet it wasn't being even slightly addressed.

“So is he yours?” Nodding to Little Sam and then to Sam himself, Satin gestured with a pointed look. “I mean he's named after you, just wondering why someone from the Nights Watch is allowed to have a kid.” Mya whipped her head over in a glare, making him raise his hands back slightly in defence. “Just making conversation, not like you're doing anything about that one.”

Sam however, just chuckled. “No, it's alright. It isn't normal, I know but-”

“He's not breaking his vows.” Olly looking up, glancing between he and Mya. “Our vows say we will take no wife and father no children. So really, you haven't done anything wrong, right?”

Something on the air of relieved came over Sam, nodding as he looked at the two with him. “I'm not his blood father, so I don't think that's actually breaking a rule. Besides, I'd guess there are a few brothers who probably have one or two somewhere and don't know it. The amount of them who used to sneak off to Mole's Town for a little sally on the side,”

Leaning a bit forward, her eyes narrowed at him almost in mocking. “Sally on the side?”

Saying he was trying to be discreet in front of the child, Olly ironically spoke up with a more boy like ingidnance. “I'm thirteen, not seven. And I do know what a brothel is.”

At the same time amusingly enough, in a flat tone both siblings simply said “You shouldn't.”

His hands smacking down on his legs, as Mya turned back. Her question was innocuous, or so she had thought. “I was wondering, if you're going back to Castle Black why come through Barrowton? Don't most go through to Eastwatch by the Sea since the path from there is straight?”

Sam and Gilly glanced at each other, “Well, we need to make a stop first. And it was easier to do it getting on the Kingsroad.” Her brows narrowed in question, and only her posture slightly tensed as she found such an answer. “We only stopped here to rest, and find an easy way to stop at Winterfell first.”

“Why?”

Mya was blunt, not rude but didn't quite mince her words trying to get to the point of what someone was saying. In a strange way, in fact, in a guilty way, Sam almost briefly had thought to himself that Jon would like her. “I have..information that I think the King in the North should be made aware of.”

Her quiet afterwards though, spoke something odd in and of itself.

It wasn't until evening fell upon the town, Sam and Gilly spoke amongst themselves, did it come up. Glancing to Mya, Satin, and Olly all in a smaller circle discussing something did she turn with a curious look back to Sam. “Doesn't she remind you of someone?”

Sam looked with furrowed eyes but from here the girl had turned enough he struggled to see her face from anything but the side. “I don't know, I can't really see that much detail from all the way over here. Why who does she remind you of?”

Confident in her voice, she also had no way to know. “Shireen. The princess, King Stannis's daughter.”

Sam squinted from where he sat, only to relent with ease. “Oh, you're sort of right. She does look sort of like Shireen. Of course, unless King Stannis has a pair of twins he doesn't know about.” The two of them however, just looked back at Mya again. It was odd, to Gilly, she really looked strikingly like Shireen just as her twin brother in his way looked like King Stannis.

Sam however, was distracted thinking of something else entirely. He hadn't seen Jon in over a year by now. What happened to make him a King? How did that relate to him fighting against the Army of the Dead? Was Jon coping with you being gone any better, or was it worse? Living in the castle he both grew up in and fell in love with you in. It was only a matter of time before he found out, he supposed.

Sam just hoped that Jon would understand why he came all this way to see him. Glad though, that he'd be seeing him in Winterfell and not Castle Black right away, where he knew Ser Alliser likely would be ready to take charge and demean Sam for just one more thing he failed at.

Much later into the night, it was a fire that started the events. Rumblings outside that grew until they became yells. Many wandered out into the cold of the night only to see a glow of orange and red light the sky up as a building in the distance was engulfed in flames. All walked out the doors to see what appeared from nowhere, only for that of arrows to fly out.

In the watching confusion, many were hit and warnings were yelled of “Raiders,” and it was from the opposite sides of the flames they came out. Using it as a distraction to sneak from the dark behind and screams yelled as blood was spilled.

Sam had grabbed Gilly, her clutching Little Sam to her chest and taken back by the sudden onslaught of chaos. Pulling her into an alcove, he held Heartsbane as if he was confident enough to use it. Not so far away, he could see the girl, Mya, grabbing Olly imploring him to hide, and Olly protesting. “I'm not lea-”

Grabbing him by the upper arms, she seemed to give him one firm shake, “You hide, understand? Hide,” Pushing him to the side of the street did Sam and Gilly grab him. The later pulling the struggling Olly to her front as she held Little Sam tight in the other.

Eyes wide, Sam watched as Mya did what he wished he could. Finding a dagger on her person, he watched her fight with such a practiced ease it was no fluke. Her move to attack and defend in a way commoners didn't know how to, or shouldn't.

Pulling it out did it slice through a mans neck, Mya then turned and dodged another before shoving that same blade into the back of his neck. Fire blazing that drew people to an area, and men everywhere that appeared to only be here to cause chaos and death as Sam felt his heart begin to pound. Fighting up close in one on one combat wasn't how he killed a Thenn, and this time he felt the fear that he knew Gilly and Little Sam were nowhere safe if he left to fight here and now.

Brave men of the North did what they always did though, fight to protect their people. Swords, axes, blades, many came out and some were slaughtered while others cut down those coming at them.

More then once did he watch Satin and Mya both yank the unarmed and innocents back behind them, and sneak up to run the blade through those attacking them. Turning in time, did one man almost get the best of the girl, pushing him back enough before she could get hit. Flipping the blade in her hand, she moved faster then he did, only to confuse him enough as she almost spun to duck under his thrusting arm.

His body turning to her, only to have it shoved deep into his eye, splattering it across the side of Myas face. If this was one thing she could do that was impressive, as her eyes caught Sam she gestured to Heartsbane and yelled, “Do you know how to use that?”

Glancing down, he responded, “Probably not as well as you.” He held it out as she grabbed the hilt and not for a second did she seem to consider anything more. Sam watched, and it hit something odd in him, that in her own way, Mya's way of fighting was quick and graceful.

It reminded him of Jon.

As the clashing of metal dimmed in one's ears did figures come from the distance of where the fire was. They looked more put together then the wild men sent the people's way and as the dark haired twins pushed a group into the nearest door, they both turned with a heave as the men spoke with a yell of authority. A yell of a name Sam hadn't heard in a long time.

“We seek your Queen in the North, that is all. No one else needs to die tonight, but you will have to hand her over.” Satin glanced at Mya, as did Olly, and it was only then did Sam catch the way both of them felt a fear did something unknowing grow inside his chest. No, he thought, she was dead, everyone knew she was dead, and yet these men seemed to think she was hiding here.

An arrow came and hit from random, sending someone to the ground, and quick another as the figure thought none of it. Those Sam did not know the name of held bravery as they stood defiant, “The Queen isn't here, and even if she was we wouldn't hand her over.”

Chuckling the man looked almost uncaring in his eyes. “We don't need you to do it, your precious Queen will hand herself over. Isn't that right, dear?” Arms held out with no weapon and no fear he shouted. “The longer she hides the more of her people suffer on her behalf.”

Two arrows quick shot out, as soon as screaming came to follow, Satin had aggressively moved in an instant to hold his sister back. Turning with something painful and red in her eyes, she tried to move again only to have Sam step forward as well. Arm outstretched as if he wanted to do something, but there was a feeling deeper behind his eyes that made the weariness in Mya's look worse.

And suddenly, he knew, that you knew, Sam just figured it out.

Jon's girl was alive and right in front of him and Sam hadn't realized it until it seemed like it was too late. The men shouted more as you now stood shaking in the group with a jaw so clenched Sam thought it might snap.

“See we don't want any trouble, you people've done nothing wrong yet. But your Queen has a higher power she has to answer to, sins that demand she pay for and if not? We'll just keep killing people right here until she does.”

Sam and Satin both went to stop you again, but you shoved against them, stepping right into the clearing. A smug smile came over the one leading them as he stepped forward as well. Whispers rippled through those still watching. Loud and yet controlled, Sam could see your your eyes blazing strongly almost as the fire behind the men. “Who are you?”

“Come with us and find our for yourself, your grace. Or we could always decide to approach the King in the North to let him decide, I'm sure a man as honourable as he would graciously take your place.”

You were silent, and everyone watched in worry. The moment you spoke Satin tried to walk to you as Sam did, Gilly holding Olly to her as he seemed in a panic. Your voice however, when you did speak finally was heavy.

“On one condition.” Protests waved through the people but you held a hand up as they obeyed in quiet without question. “You leave this city, and these people. I go with you, and when we are done, you leave the North and do not come back. Not for them, not for my King. You want me to answer for my sins? Then I answer for the rest of the North. I'm not here to send any of my people to a slaughter.”

Just as he smiled with a deal, did Gilly have to pull Olly back again. “You can't-”

“It's too late, lad. Your Queen has given herself over for your safety. Very admirable, if the accused stands true it might be the only honourable thing she's ever done.” Sam watched as you said nothing in a glare, only for it to soften when you looked to the group then finding Olly. Shaking your head, but he tried to protest as this time, he didn't hide the tears in his eyes watching you.

Holding your hand out, palm to the men, you made a slow path to go to Sam as he closed the distance. Handing him the blood soaked blade, your eyes begged him in what almost looked like a sorry as he grabbed it from you. Sam wanted to do too much he wasn't capable of. You were supposed to be dead. But it was Satin who broke the silence again. “Anguy?”

The one with the bow raised an eyebrow, “Would you look at that. It feels like it's been a long time, Gendry. Happy to see you aren't dead, yet.” So Mya was really you and Satin was hiding his true name as well, and you travelled with Olly? What in seven hells had Sam stumbled across?

Coming forward, the archer seemed he was the only one to be recognized by Gendry and the rest remained in the dark. “You come with us, but we're taking Gendry and the fat one too.” Pointing to where Sam was close to you. “As collateral. You run, we kill them. You see your trial through to the end and we let them go. So you don't run, your grace. Understood?”

Only the two next to you could see the conflict. The water behind them wanting to fall and the way your muscles and jaw all tensed as it all went to hell once more. Gilly yelled for Sam, and Sam shouted back. “Take Olly and Sam, get to Winterfell, find Jon-” But he was grabbed as was the weapon in his hand as the innocents yelled in protest. Sam could see the devastated way you and Olly watched one another before his vision was over taken just as the men put a hood over you and Gendry as well.

You knew painfully, it had turned into a mess mess. The way he looked at you as you said it was bad, but the way he barley could look at you now that it was out there, was worse.

Jon stood so many feet away from you as his face twisted into a heartbreaking betrayal, you had to tell him the truth and it went as badly as you feared he'd one day look at you with. “My father was the most honourable man I ever met, and now you're going to stand there and say he lied to me all my life.��

You felt the sting in your eyes, he'd been horribly upset the second it came out. But you couldn't know and not tell him. Your voice cracked trying to keep it together, barley able to even come a single step towards him before he'd make that distance even greater. “He was trying to protect you-”

“From knowing who my own mother is?”

He rose his voice and you had to as well, only yours was tinged in guilt and his anger. “From everyone else, from the very family who left three of yours dead, from a life of danger. Robert would have killed you if he knew, if he ever knew.”

You don't think Jon has ever been angry with you, not like this, and it begun to spiral something in your mind that overwhelmed each time he spoke angrier. “So he lies to me, lies to everyone. How long have you known?”

Stammering, you didn't have the right words or calm to explain the dreams and how confusing they left you feeling. Only able to mutter out, “I've..suspected since Dragonstone-”

Not wanting to cry, but you felt your eyes sting with tears anyways. “You've thought this for weeks and are only now just telling me? So this is it? I was born and everyone started lying their asses off. Is any of what he told me even true about her-”

You didn't mean to yell the way you did, but it came out like a scratch as even in his state, Jon could sense a sob trying to claw it's way out of you. “Why do you think he never wanted you around Robert? What do you think would make him want you dead more, if you were born from some secret romance or if you were born because Rhaegar- I knew Robert, and if he knew that's how you came to be, it didn't matter you were Ned Starks son, he would've killed you no matter what.”

Running a hand over his mouth he turned away, taking a few steps before looking back at you. “I've never hidden something like this from you, never. And you let me marry you holding this over my head?”

“I told you as soon as I learned the actual truth. I married you because I love you. Who do you even think I am?” You couldn't come down to earth, Jon was angry and he'd never been angry at you before, never truly yelled at you before and something inside you was losing your grip. Something was scratching at your insides the longer he looked at you almost in hate. Like you were losing the only thing keeping you tethered to this earth the worse that look got.

Not for a second could you figure out what was behind his eyes. They spoke thousands of words and you had not the language to read a single one like this. “I always loved you, but maybe I don't know you anymore. Maybe I don't know anyone, or ever did.”

“Loved? You loved?”

If you were of a less raging mind of chaotic screams of panic, you might have caught the look on Jons face. The one realizing he had just worded that in the worst way he didn't mean. But he was too worked up to know how to figure out how to fix that, and the way he found no way to break the silence from the noise in your own head only made that gap between you both feel like a nightmare.

He knew how badly it came out, and he didn't have the strength to say it in any other way that wasn't going to give you the worst image even when he didn't mean it. But his head was too loud, and his heart wanted to crack into pieces and he didn't want to cry only feet away from his mother's own burial place. “I need to be alone. I can't do this with you right now. I can't think when your around me..”

In truth, Jon didn't know if you actually heard half of this conversation. He had a horrible feeling, that what he said to you, was spoken in a different voice entirely. Beacuse as much as he had never been angry at you like that before, you had never looked at him in fear before. You had though, looked at one other that way.

But there was too much in his mind and heart to recognize that in the moment. So he left, and didn't look back to see that you still hadn't quite come down to earth.

It was Jon's voice, but whispers of Ramsay's words in your mind.

[vhagarsback]

robb stark and jon snow thoughts

warnings: smut, masturbation, authority kink, slight exhibitionism, cheating, robb x you, jon x you

Robb is a good man, he would never do something you did not agree with.

However, he has these urges.

He was already betrothed to another woman as a way to strengthen his alliances, and still, that didn't stop him from pursuing you.

"I only wish to know your name, my lady." Robb smiled directly at you, he was charming enough to make you not so hesitant anymore. You weren't highborn and didn't consider yourself worthy of having the king's attention.

"I am not a lady, your grace." You kept your head down, not daring to look him in the eyes. Robb looked amused and seemed to not care about your words.

"You are very pretty." And he would compliment you until you finally gave your name to him. He was enchanted, wishing to know more about you.

That was his mission as he would wait for his marriage to the Frey girl.

He would do anything to make himself seen trustworthy, to make you come to him whenever you needed advice.

Eventually, you started to fall for his charms and would agree to anything the prince asked you.

It started with small, innocent favors you just couldn't refuse.

"Would you be kind enough to bring me some water?" Robb asked sweetly, going through the papers on his desk once more. You didn't hesitate, failing to see the smirk on his face.

Once he saw how obedient you were becoming, he began to ask more from you.

"Could you run me a bath?" The king was visibly tired from planning his next war, it just wouldn't be polite to not do it.

But when you were preparing the water, Robb came unannounced, putting his hands on your shoulders from behind. You swallowed in a nervous action, feeling his fingers caressing your skin over the thin clothes you were wearing.

"You do so much for me, I can not thank your kindness enough." Robb continued to lower his hands, whispering in your neck as he inhaled your scent. He was dizzy, and his words were lazier and lazier.

"My purpose here is to serve House Stark, my Lord." You murmured trembling, sighing as he took his hands off you.

"I am forever grateful for that." He smiled, and you froze as he began to take his clothes off. "Care for helping me? I am just so tired."

He took full advantage of your loyalty, teasing you and making you embarrassed at every opportunity.

You caught him naked one day, you apologized profoundly and said you would never come to his room without knocking again. He only laughed and asked you to come closer. "You ever seen a naked man?"

You denied with your head, words failing you. He made a motion for you to step closer.

"Just look at me. Look at my body, dove." Robb finished and your eyes were on his chest, his hair dark and going all the way down to his crotch, arms and legs toned and thick with muscle.

You were blushing, cheeks burning, and he turned around before you could invade his intimacy and look at what you weren't supposed to. You saw his large back and shoulders, firm ass, and hands at the sides of his body. He smiled once again.

His nakedness became regular, you often found him reading bare in his room, muscles and legs all for you to see.

You were careful not to stare too much and to not let your eyes travel too far again, but you were eager to know more.

"Lord Stark?" Robb had called you to his chambers, and you came as quickly as you could. He took in your appearance, from the way your lips were plump and shiny to the way your thighs clenched at the mere sight of him.

Robb knew he succeed at making you want him, and that just made everything simpler.

"Sit at my feet." He ordered and your mind was quick to obey as if it were trained for it.

Robb always looked intimidating to you, he had the eyes of a true king, and having his presence so close and his attention solely on you made butterflies fly in your stomach. At his feet, he looked bigger, stronger, like he could break you into pieces with his hands. You thought he only needed his words.

You were itching to make a comment, to make him proud of you in a way. However, you were paralyzed.

"Unbuckle my belt." The king commanded as if he was talking to his soldiers, but his hand went to your hair and gently petted your head.

Your hands were shaking, you felt your belly ache and your breath was not as controlled.

He was just in his trousers, and even though you had seen him naked countless times, that seemed too intimate.

Your knees started to burn, you didn't mind and looked up at him. You almost didn't recognize Lord Stark, his eyes were darker, expression was almost haunting.

You didn't realize that was just how he always looked at you, starved.

"Suck my cock." He licked his lips as the words left his mouth with a certainty that was final, you just couldn't question him.

You did what you were supposed to, obeyed Lord Stark.

Jon knew it was wrong in all the ways possible, but he didn't know how to stop wanting you.

He made a promise, took a vow and swore to take no wife, to not let women distract him from his duties. He knew it was going to be hard and he managed, until he saw you.

You were married to a southern Lord he didn't care enough to know the name, and you needed help from the people in the north.

The lord commander agreed on letting you and your husband stay for a few days, and Jon knew it would be his downfall.

He wouldn't be the only one to stare at you during dinner, the men in the castle couldn't handle pretty women, but his intentions were the clearest, he wanted you in a way he wasn't able to explain.

Jon would subtly avoid you, only speaking to your husband when he needed to, and would try to not meet your eyes. You thought it wasn't polite, but you were intrigued.

"I think this is yours, Jon Snow." A letter he was supposed to send that morning was now in your hands, waiting for Jon to take it with a gentle smile on your lips.

He seemed surprised and quickly took it from you after rasping out a thank you. His voice was hoarse, a little shaky, but he was brave enough to stare into your eyes.

It didn't last long, as your husband appeared behind you with a hand on your waist. Jon left, and you sighed quietly.

That night, he forgot about being a man of the Night's Watch and touched himself thinking about the way your fingers touched his, about how sweet you smelled, and the way you said his name. He spilled his seed on his hand and as he came down from his high Jon thought about how you'd look tasting his cum.

Jon felt guilty, dirty and promised himself to not think about you that way anymore.

"For some reason, I fear you do not like me." Your voice came as a gift when he was training alone, sword hurting the target as your steps were closer. He stopped, almost amused at how wrong you were.

"I do not know you enough." He spent enough time looking at you to know a few things, but his mouth wouldn't betray him.

"You could." You smiled and his heart beat fast, he was confused and a bit nervous. "Come to my chambers tonight, my husband will be meeting with the Lord Commander."

Jon blinked, still staring at you. His eyes travelled to your mouth and back to your eyes, you understood. Your mouth moved without your permission.

"See you tonight, then."

a/n: pls write more for my stark brothers guys </3

[starkskeep]

And the life I gave away (r. stark)

And the life I gave away r. stark imagine

Pt. 4 of Oh, all I used to do was pray, Right when I felt the moment stop, And I might be okay, but I'm not fine at all

Pairings - Robb Stark x female!Reader

Summary - A letter from your father spurs Robb to take action to become a better husband.

Word Count - 1,551 words

Warnings - Angst, Walder Frey's A+ parenting

Songs I listened to while writing: Midnight Rain, All Too Well (Taylor Swift), Moral of the Story (Ashe), We Go Down Together (Dove Cameron & Khalid)

The days following are long for you. You stay in your chambers and refuse entry to anyone but the maids. You eat only broth and bread, unable to stomach anything else. Despite the child being a bastard. Part of it is worry. News has no doubt already reached your father of the events at Winterfell and it deepens the pit of dread thinking of the letter that will no doubt arrive from the Twins. However, you do not allow your grief to disrupt Winterfell the birth of their lord’s child. Robb is a good person who would not allow his child to be ill-treated and you would never hold the circumstances of a child’s birth against them, especially a little girl. The world is already cruel enough to women even without their status being held against them. 

The days are equally long for Robb. From the moment he left your chambers to see Talisa and his child, he had wanted nothing more than to return to you, wrap his arms around you, and tell you that he was sorry for everything you have endured since leaving your father’s household. But he knew he wouldn’t be accepted. The pain was something that you two would have to take separately. The king of the north hoped that by some miracle of the gods you would call for him, but you never did.

You were alone in the Godswood reading the letter that had finally come from your father. It’s the first time that you have ventured out of your chambers in weeks. 

To my worthless daughter,

How stupid do you have to be not be pregnant yet? There must be something wrong with you. Instead, I should have given one of your sisters or nieces to the Stark boy. They would have likely been impregnated already. It’s not that hard to lay on your back and take it. It is your duty and you have failed. It’s evident by the existence of a bastard that he has no issue producing children and the problem lies with you. You are a disgrace to the Frey name. If you don’t produce an heir for Robb Stark soon, I will have you dragged away from Winterfell and you will be replaced with another one of my other girls. This is not a threat to be taken lightly.

Remember your duty.

Lord Walder Frey

You sob as you read the letter. Your tears end up smudging some of your father’s words. No mention of your injury or how you almost lost your life. The letter only contains threats and reminders of your failures. You don’t know why you expected anything else from Walder Frey. It’s not like the man ever acted as a father. But still, you would have thought there would have been at least the tiniest bit of concern that he almost lost you. 

It is this scene that Sansa comes upon when she enters the Godswood. She stops in her tracks when she sees you: first surprised that you are out of your rooms and then startled that you are crying. She walks over to where you are and read the letter as best as she can from over your shoulder. Sansa’s expression oscillates between worry and outrage. There is nothing she can say to you that she believes would alleviate your pain so she instead chooses to sink to the ground beside you and rubs your arm in comfort. “Can I do anything for you?” Your good sister asks and the words come from the bottom of her heart. The letter was cruel and undeserved. Sansa truly wants to help you, to make your pain go away.

You hastily wipe your tears as Sansa sat beside you, standing up after her question as if it scared you off. “N…n…no. I’m sorry that you had to see me in this state. If you would excuse me, I must be off.” You rush out of the Godswood.

In your haste, you had dropped your letter. Sansa notices it in the grass and walks over to pick it up. She knows that she needs to let someone know how Walder Frey is writing to you. Even though you are his daughter, you are now the Queen of the North and you require respect from everyone. Not wanting to disturb Robb and not believing him to be the best person to handle this, Sansa decides to show it to her mother. Lady Catelyn will know what to do.

Catelyn looks down at the letter that Sansa had brought to her. An expression of disgusted disbelief spreads across her face as she reads it. What a cruel, cruel man Walder Frey is. When for him, this is shocking. She could never imagine her late father sending a letter such as this at the beginning of her marriage to Ned. Catelyn shakes her head and purses her lips, letting out a deep breath in an effort to calm herself and organize her thoughts. Something needs to be done about this. It is despicable and she refuses to let you be subjected to this kind of vitriol. Robb must be told about this. He is the only one with enough power to take action. No one deserves to be treated as such, especially someone such as yourself.

Robb stares down at the letter that his mother had just brought to him. He is livid. This is the very last straw for Walder Frey. The man shall truly become his name, the Late Lord Frey. 

The king’s anger only grows as he reads line after line. “Did he truly say this to her?” He asks incredulously as he shakes the letter in his hand. “How dare he!” The rage building in him is undeniable and hard to contain. He clenches his fist and when he finally looks back up, there is fire behind his gaze.

Catelyn speaks to Robb, rubbing his back the way she had done when he was a boy in an attempt to calm him down. “My dear boy. You need to go speak to your wife about this. This is her letter, from her father, with these vile words written about her.”

He looks down at the letter again, making sure that he saw everything correctly; that this letter is as disgusting as when he read it the first time. When Robb is finished rereading it, his face shifts from anger to contempt. The words stab at his heart. “How could someone say as much to their daughter? To someone with a heart as kind as my wife’s? She sacrificed her safety for Arya and Rickon without expecting anything in return even after the way this family initially rejected her presence at Winterfell. She is the best of us and to have these words written about her should be met with removing the writer’s hands.”

“While I detest Walder Frey even more for writing this and vehemently disagree with most of the letter’s claim, there is some truth to his claims. Not the threats about y/n being worthless, which is very much not true, but about you and her not having a child together yet. A woman’s position in the household she marries into is only secure so long as she provides her husband with children. Even more so when those children shall be the heirs to a kingdom. As much as I love my new granddaughter, the birth of your natural-born child has put your wife at great risk. People will begin to speculate whether or not she is able to bear children when in reality, it is the fact that you do not lay with her.”

Robb’s heart begins to race. Not only is it embarrassing to hear his mother talk about his relations with his wife, but the guilt that has already been building since your accident worsens. The facts behind Walder Frey’s letter were true but to say what he said to you was monstrous. He would not let anyone talk about or to his wife like that. 

“That doesn’t excuse the cruelty of the letter. This is disgusting.” Robb grits out as he throws the letter down on his desk. He really wants to throw it in the fireplace until it becomes nothing but ash yet he decides to keep it should he ever need evidence against your father. Catelyn watches as Robb storms out of his study.

Meanwhile, you are back in your chambers. Sitting in front of the fireplace, Jon has his arms around you as you sob. He pulls away slightly in order to procure a handkerchief for you. After wiping away your tears, Jon pulls you closer to him. He places a kiss on the top of your head and smoothes your hair. 

You choke back tears as you speak. “Jon. I can’t find the letter that my father wrote me. The contents are mortifying. I can’t bear the thought of someone finding it. Will you check the Godswood for me? That was the last place I remember having my letter. It’s where I read it. 

“Of course. I would do anything you ask of me.” Jon replies to you sincerely. Neither of you has noticed that Robb has entered your chambers. 

Next Part

[dragon-la]