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cdragons · 2 months

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No Hope - Robb Stark x Lady-in-Waiting!Reader

Summary: You ended it. It killed you to do so, but you had to do it. Soon, it won't matter anyway - you were set to travel with Lord Stark and Lady Sansa as her lady-in-waiting to King's Landing. It's not as if you two will ever meet again. How wrong you were...

Warning(s): Hard Dom Robb, OC is cold, Robb is dark AND delulu, Canon divergence, hard smut, slight BDSM, KIng's Landing criminal justice system, etc.

Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY DIPPY!!! I know I'm three days late, and I swear I meant to finish this on your actual birthday, but I ended up overwriting, and then I had to be at the DMV for about 7 hours and then had to pack up my house yesterday 🫠. ANYWAY, thank you so much for being such an amazing friend! It really has been such an honor to see how much you, your writing, and your blog have grown! Here's to another year of friendship and great writing!

The siege against King’s Landing was a success, resulting in an overwhelming victory for Stannis’ campaign as the new King of the Seven Kingdoms.

House Lannister, despite the arrival of reinforcements from House Tyrell, led by Ser Loras, was no more. While it was a clever ruse on House Tyrell’s part, neither house would have expected men from the Riverlands to join Stannis in his fight, resulting in an overwhelming victory. As a result, the futures of two of the ancient Seven Great Houses of Westeros now rest in the hands of a new ruler—King Stannis of House Baratheon, a figure whose emergence will undoubtedly shape the course of Westeros.

Despite being a wheelhouse dozens of miles away from King’s Landing at this point, the shouts and cheers of Stannis’ men rang clear in your ears. Inside were three young women transported to the Westerlands—to Robb Stark, the Young Wolf and King of the newly independent North.

The thought of seeing him again after the way the two of you left things off made the ride all the more unpleasant.

You remained silent and softly stroked your lady’s head as she rested her head on your lap. Tried as she could to stay lucid and awake, but it seemed that the stress and terror from being trapped as King Joffery’s former betrothed before being sold to his dwarf of an uncle had taken its toll. As she slept, you took in her features and noted the changes from the child you knew in Winterfell to the young woman trapped in King’s Landing. Her gorgeous red Tully hair lost some of its splendorous luster, appearing more matted and unkempt than you had ever seen it after years of being in Lady Sansa’s lady-in-waiting. Despite being in the South for over a year, her ivory skin seemed to pale until it was translucent. While the court believed her pale fairness to result from her Northern birth, only you and Shay knew that it was from Sansa’s inability to stomach more than a few meager bites off her plate during her mealtimes.

“The circles under her eyes have darkened further,” you thought as Sansa gripped your skirt – tightly clenching her fist as if she were a small child still terrified of the dark. “She’s grown too thin – she’s barely improved since I’ve returned by her side.”

It terrified you when Shae, who took your place as her handmaiden, informed you that her mood had improved tremendously since Lord Tyrion’s success in releasing you as a wedding gift to his new wife. Knowing that Sansa, to which your previous liege lord entrusted her care to you, was in such a state for months broke your heart. The bright and cheerful smiles you adored had become so rare since you returned to her side. But you hoped that due to recent events, your red-haired wolf would soon smile as brightly with all the more radiance as she did as a child.

“Do you think Lord Tyrion will be alright?”

You looked up to see Shae sitting across from you on the other side of the carriage. Her expression, while usually impassive and unreadable, was fraught with unease about the uncertainty of the future—hers and her lover’s.

“Stannis Baratheon is not one who shows mercy,” you answered truthfully. “It is likely that he will face the same fate as his nephew, as well as his sister and father.”

Perhaps your tone was too blunt, judging by the slight flinch Shay gave when you referred to Joffery Lannister. But, it would not help anyone, much less her, if you spoke anything less than the truth – that was what Ned Stark taught you since you were a child, and it was by that faith you would remain steadfast no matter what. She deserved nothing less than the truth; it was what you owed her. After all, from what Sansa spoke to you, she helped protect her however she could when you were not by her side.

And for that, you were most grateful.

“However,” you continued, “perhaps Lord Varys will vouch for him. The Master of Whispers holds Lord Tyrion in high regard, and out of all his family, your lover is admittedly the best of them. If nothing else, maybe he’ll pledge loyalty to Stannis and convince Tommen to do the same.”

She grew flustered, “He is not…we are not–”

“You will not find judgment from me,” you assured her with a bitter chuckle. You looked down at Sansa, her sleeping figure sparking a twinge of guilt in your heart. “Believe me, I am the last one to preach about the sins of an affair between a lord and his servant.”

It was a joyful reunion between mother and child. Before the wheelhouse fully stopped, Sansa flung open the doors and leaped out, racing into her mother's arms. Lady Stark was just as eager to hold her daughter – forgetting all forms of propriety and etiquette when she picked up her skirts to run. Both were a mess of wide smiles and joyful tears, and you don’t believe you’ve ever seen Lady Stark act so young. Seeing the two embrace – one who lost a husband and two sons and the other who lost a father and two brothers –made for such a beautiful scene that it made you weep in relief.

“I did it, my lord,” you silently prayed out, “I’ve kept my promise.”

You swore you felt your liege's gratitude by the gentle breeze that blew through the field. But unfortunately, the joy you felt would only further load the weight of the shackles of your guilt and self-loathing that refused to release you. Even if someone as good and honorable as Ned Stark could find it in his heart to forgive you – you couldn’t help but feel you don’t deserve his forgiveness.

…No…you knew you didn’t deserve it, and knowing that made the shackles heavier than you’ve ever felt.

Sansa was absent since Lady Catelyn insisted that her daughter remain by her side for the night. Shae accompanied her, and you remained alone as you lay on the cot set for you. A squire announced himself before entering the tent the men had set up for you and Shae. He called out your name and informed you that you were expected to wait in His Grace’s tent.

“His Grace requested a moment with you,” he explained, “he wishes to thank you for your service and loyalty to Princess Sansa.”

“Well, you can tell ‘His Grace’ that he can thank me here,” you scoffed. “Because I’m not fucking moving.”

You dismissed the young man without a second thought. Seriously? Did he genuinely expect you to come so quickly to him? Honestly, the nerve of that man.

It was not long before the squire returned.

“H-his Grace insists that you meet him,” he stammered.

The poor boy looked terrified, like a little puppy caught by its master for doing something it wasn’t supposed to. Seeing his discomfort was almost adorable – it nearly made you smile.

“And I insist that he let me rest,” you raised your brow and cocked your head to the side. “Or is he, in fact, ordering me to meet him? Ahh, and after such a long journey – honestly, he acts so spoiled sometimes, such a typical highborn born with everything.”

“Please, my lady,” he pleaded.

You impassively stared at the poor fellow briefly. His cheeks were flushed bright red underneath the dirt and grime, and his eyes looked close to crying. Gods, Robb – what in the Seven Hells kind of tongue lashing did you give the poor boy? Surely, he wasn’t so desperate to see you, especially considering how the two of you left things off.

“Fine,” you sighed, “I suppose I could spare him a moment. But it won’t be before I’ve had a bath – I’ve already called for hot water; it won’t be long.”

“Oh, thank you, my lady,” he sighed in relief. “His Grace will be most grateful to see you once he is finished speaking with his council in the war tent.”

Fuckin’ son of a–

You swore you felt a vein on your forehead pop. Did that idiot really summon you to his tent while he was in a council meeting?

The walk from your tent to Robb’s was a battle in itself - your mind dreaded what your heart longed for.

You had just finished your bath and changed into a simple linen dress (plain but clean) when you decided you kept His Majesty waiting long enough (two hours, give or take). You were just about to enter when a particularly irritatingly slow clap stopped you in your tracks. There was only one person who could bring out your ire in such a short amount of time. You turned around to see Theon Greyjoy – standing and smirking like the arrogant bitch you fought and played with since you were just a girl.

“Well, aren’t you a vision?” he smirked. “Makes you wonder how the men of King’s Landing kept their hands to themselves when they saw you.”

“Wouldn’t know,” you wryly replied, “after all, I spent most of my time there in a dark, damp cell. I barely had enough food and water to survive, let alone to be a vision.”

Although Theon still joked and teased like he always had, you could see the war had taken its toll on him. He grew thinner. His body had lost weight, and his muscles appeared leaner and more taut. His shaggy curls were more closely trimmed and no longer tickled his shoulders. But his eyes—how they looked so haunted and tired—made your heartbreak.

“He’s missed you,” he whispered. There was no need to state a name – you both knew who he was referring to.

“He got married,” you replied while looking away. To a Frey, no less.

“She's dead, and he never loved her.”

“That makes it better?”

“It does when you were the one who broke his heart,” he retorted.

You sharply turned back, “That is not–”

Light poured out of the tent behind you as the front flap opened. You heard your name being called out in that tone that always made your knees buckle—revering and filled with longing with an undertone of authority. It beckoned you to look at him, and when you did, you swore you felt your heart leap into your throat by him.

“You’re late,” he grunted.

Robb Stark, with his crystalline blue eyes not once looking away from you, shifted to the side and let you in. His gaze moved to Theon and narrowed when he noticed the lack of distance between the two of you. Saying nothing, you silently bowed your head before heading inside the warm tent. However, you remained close enough to hear the brief exchange between the Greyjoy and Stark. But after being away from Robb for so long, you couldn’t focus on any words between the two men.

Taking a deep breath, your body tingled as you took the familiar notes of fine leather and freshly burned smoke. You glanced at his bed and longed to lie in its furs without the hindrance of clothes. Your mouth watered at the idea of wrapping yourself in them. The idea of pressing your nose against the furs made your center throb and grow wet, as the idea of the scent of his hot sweat mixed with his musk trapped in those hides was almost too much to bear.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you nearly missed Robb calling out your name. You responded by regaining your composure as quickly as possible so as not to betray any lustful thoughts swimming in your mind.

“What did you and Theon talk about?” he bluntly asked, standing impassively as you remained silent.

“Was the journey smooth?” he tried again. Nothing.

“I hope my men–”

“Idle prattle doesn’t suit you,” you tiredly sighed. “Just tell me whatever you waited so long for, and then I can return to my tent and finally rest.”

Robb clenched his fists and stared at the ground. How cruel, how unfair – one word from you, just hearing your voice, struck every word on his tongue dead. War made him lax. He, of all people, should know how you could drive good men to insanity.

Yes – it felt like he was going mad.

He looked up from the ground and wanted to weep. There you stood – looking as beautiful as a fresh layer of snow and just as cold. It took everything in him not to reach out and pull you close. He wanted to feel your body close to his, to revel in the softness of your hidden warmth. He wanted to go back to Winterfell – to simpler times with his father and brothers alive and laughing, to when Jon was by his side and his brother and best friend, and to when you would look at him like he was your world.

How you used to look at him – how he still looked at you.

Robb tried to start a conversation to loosen the tense atmosphere, but it was clear you weren’t having it. You even cut him off on his third attempt. Your voice was so cold that it burned him like ice. He wasn’t even sure if you were looking at him or just at a corner of the tent so you could maintain that cold, domineering façade you had perfected since childhood. It was obvious to him that you were trying to goad him into losing his temper – giving you the perfect excuse to leave and ignore him again.

Why else had you sent his squire back to him after he requested your presence to wait for him at his tent? Furthermore, why else did you make him wait two hours for your bath?

“I wish to thank you for your loyalty towards my sister during her time as the Lannisters’ hostage,” Robb calmly said, keeping his voice steady but firm. “You acted bravely.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I acted as anyone else would have in my position. My loyalty to your sister and family is not something to be admired or coveted.”

“That’s not true,” Robb argued. “Your loyalty to my family is nothing short of admirable. It’s only right that–”

“Robb.”

It was infuriating how regal you looked, carrying the air of a queen.

“My loyalty will always belong to House Stark, that’s true – but,” you stared deep into his gaze, “all I cared about in that damp, rotting cell, where I was given barely enough water and food to survive, was whether my lady was well.”

Please stop it.

“I didn’t endure because my lady was a Stark,” you continued, “I endured because it was Sansa.”

He couldn’t bear it any longer.

“Is it only for Sansa that you’ve suffered?” he rasped in anger.

This wasn’t good; he just got you back. If he doesn’t properly utilize this chance, you’ll be gone from him forever. He knew you’d never leave Sansa’s side. Your loyalty to her, even when she still acted like the spoiled little princess of the North, drew him to you. As the eldest daughter, Sansa was the one closest to their mother. However, as the second eldest child, it also meant that she had to understand she could not always have their parents’ attention. Before Jeyne Poole, before Septa Mordane – you were Sansa’s first and constant companion. You were someone whose loyalty ran deep and remained unwavering in the worst times.

He collected himself enough to apologize for his outburst when your voice returned – regal and imposing, cold and distant.

“Not just Sansa,” you stated. “…I also made a promise to Lord Stark.”

Something in him snapped. Robb considered himself a good man, an honorable man. One whose father instilled lessons of honor and duty in him since he was old enough to walk. A father who he missed, whose absence was painful. But hearing you speak of him, of his father, it was like a bucket of ice water was poured over him, and it awoke a bitter memory he had long forgotten.

“Is it true?” Robb demanded unannounced after storming into his father’s private study. His father sat at his desk, appearing as tired and weary as the day of his departure from home to the vicious South treads closer with each passing day. Ned set down his quill and sighed deeply. He knew it would not be long before Robb would come in to demand an explanation. He supposed that, as his boy’s father, he owed his eldest son that much… if for not his own sake, then for the sake of closure. “…What may you be referring to, Robb?” he asked, despite already knowing what this was about. Robb furiously shook his head, “Do not pretend with me, Father. Did you or did you not plant the idea of a future engagement between her and me as treason against you?” “…Before I answer that,” Ned began carefully, not wanting to upset his son further, “am I to understand that when you mean ‘her,’ you are referring to a particular lady-in-waiting favored by your sister?” It frightened Ned how quickly Robb’s anger was snuffed out. He whispered your name with reverence and veneration fit for the Maiden. But just as soon as his heir’s fury went away, it came back at a speed and quantity tenfold. Ned could see it in his eyes. Robb may have inherited his Tully mother’s eyes, but the cold storm raging in them could only belong to one whose blood belongs to the Old Gods of the North. “Sansa requested her to accompany us while she learns to be Prince Joffrey's future queen,” Ned explained. “Robb… your sisters need people they can trust – now more than ever with Bran’s accident.” “And she’s agreed to this?” Robb interrogated. “You expect me to believe that?” “Yes,” Ned solemnly nodded, “because it was brought up to me by her…”

Robb didn’t believe it then, and he still didn’t believe it now. He refused to entertain the idea of you, of all people, who would propose to his father that you leave him. You, who Robb loved with a love more fervent and true than any fanciful tale sung by the bards in Southern courts. You, who listened to all of Robb’s deepest fears and worries since you and him were still small children. You, who whispered promises of love and devotion to Robb night after night since he first warmed your bed.

You, who cried tears of joy when he secretly proposed to you underneath the blood-red leaves and snow-painted branches of the weirwood tree, swearing his love to you before the Old Gods and New.

…No…no, no, no—it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be…but what other explanation was left?

“Robb…?” your voice gently called out to him. “If that’s all you wish to say to me… then I must be heading back to my–”

He walked forward and tightly grasped your arms, making you unable to escape. Robb felt your feeble attempts to pry his fingers off with your delicate hands. But it was to no avail.

“Why…?” Robb rasped, letting out all the pain and longing he had been keeping locked inside since you dissolved you and his affair. “Why did you leave? …Why did you leave me?”

“Damn you,” you thought. “Damn you, Robb Stark.”

It was pathetic… how easily this man broke down your walls. One word… one word from him was enough to make you want to surrender everything.

“I…I-I… only did what I thought was best,” you stammered. “For us…and for you…”

Robb scoffed because why wouldn’t he?

“For me…?” he rhetorically repeated. “Leaving me – no, abandoning me… that was for my benefit? Do you really expect me to believe that?”

You shook your head, “Belief is secondary to truth,” you explained. “And I am telling you the truth. I’ve never lied to you.”

“Right, of course – that’s why you ran off to King’s Landing with my sister,” Robb raged. “Yes, certainly that for my well-being. You, being paraded and courted by knights and nobles with their pretty words and fine silks – what a relief to know that you endured all that for me…”

Oh, this son of a – gods, how could one man be so beautiful, yet so infuriating?!

“Did you ever love me?” he asked, his voice a little rough from choking back tears. “Was it ever real? Any of it? Or was it all a lie?”

“I believe I told you I was expected to wake your sister for her early celebration…” you looked out the window, “…right now…? It would seem…?” It was the morning of Sansa’s eleventh birthday. Lady Stark planned to surprise her daughter with a splendid spread of leek pottage, freshly baked bread, slices of smoked meat, and a cup of sweet Dornish wine. She entrusted the duty of waking the little princess of the day to you, Sansa’s most entrusted companion. It was expected that you would take the role. After all, everyone in the castle knew what an absolute nightmare Lord Stark’s eldest daughter was in the early mornings. …But…it would seem that Lord Stark’s eldest son and heir did not understand the gravity of your role today…considering he remained insistent that you spend your morning with him… in his bed… without any clothes on your person. While usually, you’d be much more cross at his insistence… you couldn’t deny how delicious it felt waking up in his arms after a night of gloriously intense lovemaking. And the way he further convinced you by tracing feather-light kisses down your neck and collarbone was downright sinful. “I believe…” he momentarily nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, causing you to softly shriek and giggle. “…I told you never to speak of my sister or any member of my family while in bed with me.” His lips trailed further down to the valley of your breasts. “Stay here…with me…and let’s forget the world this morning.” Gods, it’d be so easy to give in …to remain hidden from the world within the arms of your beloved…but life was hardly so easy. “You know I – can’t…!” you sharply gasped at the feel of his lips around your teat. You pitifully whined his name. “Robb, please…” “Shhh—careful, my love,” he huskily whispered, “unless you want all of Winterfell to know how even one of its coldest women is powerless against her wolf…” You held his chin to press a soft kiss against his lips. Gazing into his deep pools of sapphire, you knew this was the only man you could ever give your heart to. “My wolf…” you corrected, “and only mine…” “Yours…” Robb agreed as the two of you got lost in each other all over again.

Instinct and fury blinded rationality and composure as a sharp crack rang within the tent as your palm made contact with Robb’s cheek. Hot tears spilled from your eyes as the wet trails streamed down your cheeks.

“Fuck you, Robb…” you grit out.

Did he not think you haven’t craved him and his love as much, if not more, since your separation? Was he so obtusely… thick in the skull to think that you hadn’t cursed yourself for plunging you both into the cruel depths of a life without the other? Had he not realized that what saved you from falling into despair… from the moment you were thrown into the Red Keep’s dungeons… was your sweet memories of him?

You angrily swiped away your tears on the back of your hand before shoving him aside so you could make your way out of the tent. You couldn’t stand to be so close to him, not anymore, not when it cut you so deeply.

What was the point? Of being so close to one when they cannot have the other?

But it seemed your king did not agree with your sentiments as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back toward him. Your chest collided against his, and you felt the hard planes of his muscles and wanted to sink to your knees while stripping him of all barriers that blocked his glorious body.

Robb growled as he felt the tremulous rhythm of your beating heart, effectively giving away all your true feelings and desires toward him – the same he felt to you.

“You’re a cruel woman…” he growled as he forced you to look into his deep, blue eyes by holding your chin, “but you’re my woman.”

Without another word, he seized you by the arm and threw you onto his bed. He tore off his tunic before gripping your ankles with both hands and forcing them wide open before he forcefully pulled your body to the end of the bed. Not wasting another moment, he clutched the neckline of your nightdress and tore it open, leaving you exposed and defenseless against him. You felt the peaks of your breasts harden against the cold air and tried to cover them with your arms, but Robb slapped your hands away and pinned your hands above your head.

“And I’ll make sure you learn your place by the time I’m done with you…”

Time meant nothing inside that tent. The only things that mattered were Robb Stark, young King of the North and recently widowed, and you, his precious whore he loved so dearly. It could have been an hour, it could have been five –you couldn’t tell. All you knew was that your former lover was currently cementing his claim on you as his bitch-in-heat by making you cum twice with his fingers and thrice more from his cock.

“You *huff* …really…expe- fuck…!” The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, interrupted by the squelch of your juices mixed with his as he moved in and out of you. He loudly groaned when he felt your walls clamp down on his still-hard shaft. “Fuck – how are you still so fucking tight…?”

You didn’t answer him; you couldn’t – at least not with words. Each of Robb’s thrusts hit that spot inside you that made you lose all sense of logic and rational thought. All you could offer was broken garbles and moans of your ecstasy as your insatiable wolf continued to feast on your pleasure. And this only seemed to further incense Robb into driving himself deeper inside you, as if he had not already caused you to peak three times since he first pushed into you. Your vision became blurry as your eyes crossed, but he brought you back by delivering a hard slap against your bottom, the stinging pain quickly shifting to ebbing pleasure.

“Well?” he tauntingly jeered, thoroughly enjoying your sharp tongue could only be quieted by him fucking you dumb. “I expect an answer…!”

“Ah-ah-ah – FUCK…!” you cried out after he delivered another harsh slap on your bottom’s other cheek, making you sharply gasp and continue to slather your drool and tears into his bed’s furs. “I don’t know…!”

Robb cruelly smirked, “Don’t know…?” He grabbed the front of your neck and pulled you until your sensitive back was pressed flush against his hard chest. “Don’t lie to me… you know… don’t pretend that you don’t – but do you want me to tell anyway?”

Fervently nodding, you felt him grin as his hot breath panted against your neck, causing goosebumps to prick across your skin covered in bite marks.

“It’s because…” Robb quickened his pace from rough to erratic as your mind nearly blanks from feeling more and more of him hitting the entrance to your womb, “we both know that cunt belonging to such a cold whore like yourself…could only be thawed with cock like mine and only mine.”

The war changed him. The Robb you knew and loved would never dream of speaking to you in such a filthy and vulgar manner. Before, your Robb always made love to you sweetly with the gentlest touches, and as far as you could tell and feel, he was gone. In his place was a wolf with a voracious appetite who could only seem satisfied with your humiliation from his rough squeezes and unforgiving pace. The evidence was plain to see by how he littered your body with purple love bites down your neck, red bite marks over your breasts and inner thighs, and deep indents of his nails from gripping your hips too hard and too long.

And the worst part of it? You loved it. Every bit of his ministrations was a piece of heaven. If this were torture, then you would only crave pain for the rest of your existence. Everything hurts so good, from the way his thick, throbbing cock stretches your walls to the way his rough, calloused hands manhandle your body with his bruising grip. You weren’t sure if there was anything left of you that Robb didn’t already possess. Your eyes glazed over the veins in his arms bulge as you barely register the rasped grunts and growls leaving his lips. If you looked down, you were sure to see the outline of his cock bulging from inside you as he continued to split you open.

He stilled for a moment and whispered in your ear as you cried out your frustration and begged him not to stop.

“I’m going to cum in you,” he rasped with perverse glee, “and afterward, I’m going to make sure my seed takes root in your womb.” He pushed your face down to the furs and forced your hips to meet his thrusts without mercy. “You tried to… escape your fate by leaving. Well, *huff* let me tell you right now… that’s never going to happen – I’ll lock you… in the tallest tower in Winterfell and chain you to the bed if I have to…”

One of his hands left your hips and went below you as his fingers deftly sought out the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs that was your clit. You tried to protest, not sure if your body could take even more pleasure, but all that came out was a warbled cry as he pressed down and circled your bud. The overstimulation was proving to be too much as your body started shaking. You felt a cord tightening more and more until it just *snapped*, and you screamed out your release as your entire body trembled.

Robb refused to let up his pace, and he continued to thrust in and out of you as you felt him stiffen and – gods, how did he get even bigger? Before he released his seed inside you, he bottomed out – making sure that there was nothing of him that was not inside your sopping cunt. Your vision went white as he let out a loud and powerful groan from his release, and you could feel his hot seed painting your inner walls with his essence.

His peak seemed to drain him of all his energy as he gathered you in his arms without pulling out and resolved himself to finally rest. His sweaty forehead rested against your shoulder as he panted. Between each labored breath, he planted a kiss across your shoulders – your body still twitching from the intensity it endured as you, too, tried to catch your breath.

All was silent until you found yourself speaking, “…There was no hope, was there…?”

Robb lifted his upper body on one arm to hover over you. You repeated your question, to which he gave you a relaxed smile and tucked a stray piece of hair stuck to your temple behind your ear.

“No, love…” he confirmed. “But you must have known that from the beginning…I would have never let you go.”

…How does one respond to that?

You tried to search for the answer in his eyes, but all you saw was love… love, and madness. It was always there inside him; you’ve known that from the beginning… only you were blinded by his beauty and your love for him. But your lord knew the truth; he saw that obsessive love from the start; after all, Robb was his son. He warned you, but you didn’t listen. It wasn’t until you saw him beat a poor knight bloody and broken on the ice-covered ground – all because you made the mistake of smiling at him.

That’s why you ended your secret engagement. You had hoped that time and distance would ebb away the insanity flowing in his blood, or perhaps he would find someone else and eventually forget you – whichever came first.

But that was a fool’s dream; you knew that now.

Wordlessly, you nodded, to which Robb gently pressed his lips to yours, just as he had back in Winterfell. With each second, you began to respond more and more to the kiss. You wrapped your arms over his neck as his lips trailed down your next again, and you felt your sore body humming for more despite its sensitivity. Your fingers gripped his unruly, dark auburn curls as a tear trailed your cheek.

Forgive me, my lord…I’ve failed.

But you know you were secretly glad of it. After all, how could you not be? Life was growing inside you at that very moment.

Tagging: @dipperscavern, @ethereal-athalia, @axelsagewrites, @rise-my-angel, @anewpersonthatexists, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @lenasdmns, @justmymindandstuff, @aoi-targaryen, @vyctorya, @metalblindbitch, @h34rts-4uu, @aphroditesmoon, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @sylasthegrim

#robb stark x reader #robb stark x female reader #robb stark x fem reader #robb stark fanfic #robb stark smut #game of thrones fix it #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fic #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #dark robb stark #dark fic #my writing #asoiaf x reader

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wodania · 6 months

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“He’s me, Jaime realized suddenly. I am speaking to myself, as I was, all cocksure arrogance and empty chivalry. This is what it does to you, to be too good too young,” jaime viii, a storm of swords

Ser Loras Tyrell of the Kingsguard

#my angry teenage freak #loras tyrell #asoiaf #my art #extra tags:#fanart #artists on tumblr #art #digital art #a song of ice and fire #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf art #asoiaf fanart #house tyrell #kingsguard #a storm of swords

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loggiepj · 19 days

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To Love A Lannister

chapter 9 | chapter 10

You had always thought being betrothed to the one you love would finally make you happy. The one you'd remember as you grew old. A memory you'd cherish forever.

Yet you never thought it would be a complete torture — wanting someone who doesn't want you. Not even a bit.

Queen Mother Cersei continued to ignore you through the days that come, as if you were a common guest in the Red Keep. Queen Margaery however, were already talking nonstop with you, asking how the two of you first met and interacted with each other.

Everyone had apparently heard the news. Tommen had avoided you. Jaime looked bitter everytime you saw him at dining halls and hear his father Lord Tywin discuss your engagement to Cersei and where to hold such event.

The Tyrells did not take it lightly at first, but knowing Ser Loras' character, the decision was for the best. In fact, the Tyrell Lord was happy he was set free from marrying the vicious queen, he'd always talk about inviting you both to see Highgarden to spend time as newlyweds.

Of course, there was always the talk about your sexuality and your special appendage, and you knew Cersei was shamed about all of it as she kept shoving glass of wine into her mouth, as if she needed to be drunk for that kind of conversation. You knew then her father meant this proposal as her punishment. And yours.

Tommen was crowned as King the following day, finally diminishing the gossip.

Yet, the continuing appearance of Jaime inside Cersei's chambers, or along side her at times, never not following her, only made your blood boil. Even after the engagement, he knew how to make you furious, he knew what was your weakest point.

One time you even stopped Jaime by holding unto his fake hand, making him almost stumble. He was about to follow Cersei into her chambers once again. You knew he was part of the Kingsguard, yet it didn't sit well on you for him to guard Cersei. You'd request Lord Tywin to change that once you had the courage.

"What are you doing?" you spat, glaring at the golden haired man.

"Following the Queen—"

"You don't have to do that," you interjected, maintaining your hold. "I trust another loyal Kingsguard can do your job."

He then laughed. "Are you jealous I might start another scandal?"

"You—"

"He's my Queensguard and my brother, Lady Y/n," Cersei spoke, making you both glance her way. "Let him go."

You swallowed a lump in your throat before your grasp weaken.

~~~

"I hear congratulations are in order," Tyrion said, laughing. "Here I thought you had listened to my advice. Yet you had to wear the noose or lay your head down unto the guillotine."

You sighed as you looked at the ground, kicking dirt after dirt. With nothing else to do and nowhere else to hide, you decided to visit Tyrion in his cells in the castle's dungeons.

"I . . . I don't know what I'm going to do," you said. "I . . . I have sent a raven to ask for my father's help. She . . . She doesn't . . . doesn't return my feelings."

"See, I told you she's cruel."

"I . . . I have loved her, you know. I . . . I know she has done terrible things in life, but I. . . I still find myself at a loss of words around her. My heart would still skip a beat every time she's near me. And I hate it. She's . . . She's my weakness and I hate it."

Tyrion looked at you sympathetically. "She's always adored when she doesn't deserve it."

You only stayed silent. Tyrion observed your dilemma and sighed. "I was once betrayed by the one I truly loved."

You glanced at him. "Surely you're not talking about Sansa—"

"No, no." He laughed. "Shae. She's a whore. I fell in love with a whore. And I truly believed my feelings were reciprocated. I should've trusted my gut that it was all a farce. I thought she was different. I thought she'd love a dwarf like me. Funny how that turned out when she told the court the other day how I was guilty in killing Joffrey."

You both stayed silent for a moment, regretting about your past actions.

"I mean, it can't be that bad, right?" you asked expectantly. "Marrying Cersei."

"She'd torment you, of course."

He coughed, leaning against the wall. "I want to feel sorry for you though. However, I might no longer be there to give my sympathies."

"What do you mean?"

"I requested for a trial by combat as a result of betrayal in court," he began. "And Cersei picked the Mountain as her champion."

You stared at him in disbelief. "The Mountain?"

The Mountain. Gregor Clegane. He was the largest, strongest and most feared man in Westeros. No one had ever outmatched him.

"You see, Y/n. When my sister hates someone, she'd do everything in her power to get rid of them. I have lost Bronn to my father's nicer offers. I lost my brother Jaime to Cersei even since birth, but I doubt he can even fight with one hand against the Mountain."

"What are you going to do then?"

"Well, Y/n," he said, smiling weakly. "I have always enjoyed having our talks, no matter how brief. But I believe this is goodbye."

~~~

You were heading back to your chambers when you accidentally bumped into Jaime only coming out from Cersei's. It made you push him against the nearby wall and clutch his armor.

You were envy, it wasn't a question anymore. You couldn't decipher how attached the twins were, and how no one could intervene.

"What do you think you're doing inside? Queensguard are supposed to stay outside the doors."

He chuckled, making you let him go. "She's in a good mood right now, Y/n. Don't try to break it."

"You—"

"I told you we have each other's backs no matter what," he went on in a whisper. "I know you'll be married one day. And one day, Cersei will finally bear another child. I'm sure you couldn't help but wonder once your son or daughter would be born with golden hair," he leaned closer into your ear, "Would it be yours or mine? Robert didn't notice. But I know you're clever enough to see."

The argument stopped when Cersei stepped out the door of her chambers. Your gazes met, and somehow underneath you could still see the Cersei you had known the past couple of weeks. And you knew then you had to let her go. For your own sanity. And hers.

What was once a hardened gaze softened as you stepped away from the Knight.

"Your Grace." You bowed at Cersei before hurriedly leaving.

~~~

You had avoided the Lannisters the following days. It was the only way you could move forward without getting affected. You knew you had to face them one day, but at the moment, you'd savor the time away from them.

At dinners, your seat was always empty, making Lord Tywin ask Oberyn of your daily activities.

You had found a secluded place in the Capital, one that's rarely visited. You could see the entire King's Landing from where you sat and wondered how you wanted to leave that place, how you wouldn't want to be tied down to Cersei in such a depressing place.

If she could only love you, her love would make this view bearable. But she didn't. She wouldn't.

You were still waiting for your father's response to your letter. The violent way was to offer Princess Myrcella, Cersei's daughter, in exchange. But you doubted Tywin would see that as a threat. And you knew you wouldn't choose that way anyway.

You met with Tyrion in his cells later that night when a certain idea finally came to you.

It was the only thing keeping you sane as you finally made your presence known inside the Red Keep. Oberyn even wondered why you were suddenly enthusiastic out of nowhere.

And even when you saw Cersei and Jaime as they entered the dining halls together, you didn't let it affect you. Oblivious of the way Cersei's eyes widened when she saw you at your seat, you went on talking to Margaery about her upcoming marriage to Tommen. You then could see why Cersei never liked Margaery. She was a parasite. And she thought you were too, marrying the Queen Mother and all.

~~~

Offer him Castle Yronwood. He'd set you free from the arrangement.

Yronwood. The castle you won fighting against the lords from the Stormlands when you were young. It was the reply your father sent to your raven.

You knew you had to offer it to Tywin to set you and Cersei free. She wouldn't ever have to marry anyone she doesn't like. She wouldn't have to marry you.

Deep in your thoughts, you didn't notice Cersei approaching you in the balcony.

You greeted and stepped back as she approached the railing and stared at the horizon.

The Queen would always stay beautiful in your eyes, no matter how ugly she was inside.

"Can't sleep?"

You shook your head. "Been thinking a lot."

She snorted a soft chuckle. "Aren't we all these days?"

You smiled at the horizon. There was a long silence before you spoke, "Don't you feel like running away from all this?"

"To where?"

"Anywhere."

"Having cold feet?"

And you laughed, realizing she was referring to your marriage.

"I am not," you managed to reply. "It would be an insult to deny your hand, Your Grace."

She looked at you. "Why are you still nice to me when I'm nothing but awful to you?"

You fell silent as you avoided her gaze. She went on. "Kindness is a weakness, Y/n. For women like us. You should know that by now."

You could see Jaime on the grounds below, talking at another Kingsguard and when you finally looked at Cersei, she was also looking at him. And if your heart could only break more, it would.

"I am cold," you announced as you shivered, stepping away from the Queen. "I'm heading back inside. And I suggest you do too, Your Grace. It won't be wise to catch a cold these days."

"Y/n?"

You stopped in your tracks. "Yes, Your Grace?"

"Nothing happened between me and Jaime," she said, making you glance at her. She sported a genuine look in her face. Yet, you didn't know if you should believe her or not. Maybe, she did care for you. Or maybe she's scared you'd tell her father about it.

But what was the difference if she was saying the truth. She didn't want you. She'd never love you. She hadn't ever loved you once. And you knew that now.

"It's okay, Cersei." You gave her a weak smile before leaving.

~~~

"What the seven hells is this, Y/n?" Oberyn's yell surprised you when you entered the breakfast hall where the Martells dine the next morning. Ellaria was holding back his hand as if to control his temper. But you knew, she had no chance of doing that.

You then looked at the scroll he threw at you, giving him a sarcastic smile before reading the contents.

"Your father would kill me, Y/n!" he said. "The Mountain would kill you."

Yes, you had offered yourself as Tyrion's champion for his upcoming trial.

"I had to help him, Oberyn. Someone has to help him—"

"It doesn't have to be you!"

"Come on, my dear," Ellaria interrupted, rubbing Oberyn's chest to calm him down. "I'm sure Y/n can still back down-"

"And let the innocent man die? There's no justice in the world unless we make it."

You had never seen Oberyn this furious before. And you were at the receiving end. He then looked around the soldiers and ordered, "Leave us."

You then added once the Dornish soldiers had left, "Besides, Cersei won't get to marry me if I die—"

"You can't die, Y/n. Not in my watch. I won't let you die," he said with gritted teeth.

"Thank you for your support. I can fight well on my own—"

"The Mountain has his own mind. He only knows two things, and that is to kill and kill."

"I've fought worse enemies than him, you know that, Oberyn."

"You can't die because you are one of the rightful heirs to the throne," he said in a whisper.

"What?"

"You're my brother Doran's bastard daughter."

"Our cousin Prince Doran? You must be losing your mind."

"He had an affair before Robert's Rebellion, before the Mad King became madder. And Doran had no idea, of course. Still has no idea. For he would have given you away, Y/n. Your mother hid you under her Maester's care in the Capital, but before your mother left for Dragonstone, she sent for me to take you to Dorne. Me and Elia took you to Y/f/n, a distant relative of ours, under your father's care."

"Why would he give me away?"

"Because your house was meant to be removed from existence. Because you weren't supposed to be alive. Your mother is none other than Rhaella Targaryen."

#cersei lannister x reader #cersei lannister #game of thrones #g!p reader #angst #song of ice and fire

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efpizza · 1 year

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Some art of Sansa's fantasy of marrying Willas Tyrell, based on this excerpt:

"She pictured the two of them sitting together in a garden with puppies in their laps, or listening to a singer strum upon a lute while they floated down the Mander on a pleasure barge. If I give him sons, he may come to love me. She would name them Eddard and Brandon and Rickon, and raise them all to be as valiant as Ser Loras."

(sansa, a storm of swords)

I do love how every time Sansa thinks of Willas, it always ends in her fantasising about Loras instead. Sorry willy

#a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #asoiaf art #valyrianscrolls #a game of thrones #sansa stark #willas tyrell #sansa

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jestersjitters · 3 months

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One Piece rare pair week: día 2 Laughter/Tears

Germa encontró una intrusión en sus sistemas de seguridad, los príncipes tienen la tarea de encontrar al intruso, pero Yonji está distraído pensando en la risa genuina del nuevo mayordomo del castillo, ya que todos parecen reír falsamente a su alrededor, no puede evitar pensar en lo increíble que es la risa de Sabo.

Esto puede ser un futuro fanfic o cómic, todavía no lo sé jsjs

Germa found an intrusion in their security systems, the princes are tasked with finding the intruder, but Yonji is distracted thinking about the genuine laughter of the castle's new butler, as everyone seems to laugh falsely around him, he can't help but think how amazing Sabo's laughter is.

Omg i forgot the direction of the eyebrows la concha de la lora

OpRarepairweek part 1

Oprarepairweek part 3

#one piece #fanart #digital illustration #artists on tumblr #digital drawing #revolutionary sabo #sabo #oprarepairweek #one piece sabo #vinsmoke yonji #vinsmoke family #germa 66 #vinsmoke ichiji #vinsmoke niji #vinsmoke siblings #fan comic #mini comic #one piece fan art #yonbo

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catsteeth · 4 months

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Sugar & Violence

Podrick Payne x reader

+:✿ Chapter 4 ✿:+ : Loyalty

1-2-3-_-5

Summary: You’re a Mormont being held hostage by House Lannister. You are acting now as the Handmaiden for Margery Tyrell, whom you’ve grown quite close with. But it seems that a squire has caught your attention as you have caught his.

CW: afab reader, SMUT(ish), MDNI, teasing, grinding, minor character death, talk of pregnancy and contraceptives, insanely sweet fluff, mention of alcohol consumption, mention of NSFW themes.

Word Count: 2868

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

As you and Margery walked, we discussed the night of passion you and Podrick had shared.

“Sounds like I was right about the tea.” She teased, she leaned into you and held onto your arm tighter “I’d say you love him.”

“I’d say I do, enough to stay here.” You said coldy, but gave her a small smile.

“Don’t be so selfless. You are giving him your life you know? You didn’t even give me that.” Margery did not understand how or why you would allow yourself to love a man so much that you’d allow yourself to remain captive. And she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a bit jealous.

“I know that well.” You nodded, you didn’t understand it yourself. But you knew you loved him enough to stay.

“He has some gift if it makes whores refuse money and you refuse freedom.” She jested, making you smile,

“I guess he does.” You held back a laugh.

“I am happy to have you stay.” She said as she rubbed your arm with her palm.

“I am happy to be with you.” You said, smiling back at her.

“Has he proposed to you?”

You shook your head, and looked down “No, but he has talked about… being…”

“Oh please, you can talk about bedding him but not wedding him?”

“Seems more intimate than fucking.” You said wincing slightly

“You’d be a good match.” She said warmly

“You’ve never heard us speak together,”

“No but if a man as common as he is has inspired such idiotic selflessness from one of the most willful women I know he must be good to you. In more ways than one.” You and her smiled at one another, you held her arm closer to you. “Come now, my grandmother wants us to pick a necklace for the wedding.”

“You haven’t picked one yet?” You raised an eyebrow,

“I have, she hasn’t.” You both giggled,

Walking off you and Margery met Olena who was still unimpressed with the necklaces presented.

However she was impressed with the Lady who came to talk with Margery. And you would be lying if you said you were not also.

A large and strong woman, Brienne of Tarth.

You’d heard stories and murmurs about her strength. She was able to best Loras, knocking him to the dirt.

You were so taken with admiration you couldn’t wait to tell your most adored companion about it that night.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You walked into Podricks chambers late that night, just to be sure that he’d be there and not attending to his lord.

He was sitting on his bed, only in his breeches and tunic, taking off his last boot.

As you entered, you closed the door, leaning back against it.

“Hello, there Ser Podrick Payne.” You said in a half serious seductive voice.

“Hello Lady Mormont,” He smiled at you, and you began to walk up to him, smiling ear to ear. “You look happy.” He said, reaching his hands out to you. You took his hands, intertwining your fingers together as you stood between his thighs.

“I’ve just met the most extraordinary knight-“ You began but saw his face change from delight to jealousy, “Oh don’t look like that it was a woman,” You said as you started wrapping his arms around you

“A woman knight?” He said confused,

You wrapped your own arms around his neck, “okay maybe she wasn’t a knight but she was everything but.”

“you seem quite taken by her.” He smiled up at you, his hands traveling up and down your back.

“You should see her. Nearly seven feet tall I would wager, I hear she fights better than all the men in this shit city. Stronger too… Maybe not as strong as the hound or the mountain but… strong.” You spoke about her as if you’d just witnessed a wonder. You climbed on top of his lap, your legs on either side of him. “When I was a girl, I would have wanted to be like just her.”

“And what about now? What do you want to be like now?” He asked as you pushed him down onto his bed, still smiling.

“Like this… I like my position now.” You smiled, running your fingers down his chest. “It’s quite comfortable.” You said leaning down kissing his lips.

“I like seeing you like this.”

“On top of you?” You teased, raising an eyebrow

“Happy.” He smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear. “But yes, that too.” He kissed you once more, “What was this lady knight's name?”

“Why? I’ve spoken so highly of her, you wish to run away with her?” You jested as you kissed his neck.

He let out a small groan at the sensation, but held it in as you continued. “I wish to know the name of the ser lady who’s brought my lady such happiness.” He petted your hair as you continued to kiss his neck.

You stopped for a moment, looking at him lovingly, ‘my lady’... you thought. But unwilling to draw any attention to it, you answered him. “Brienne of Tarth.”

“If she’s brought you such joy then she is worth every bit of praise.” He said kissing your neck and collarbone.

His hands roamed your body, caressing the sweet spots that he’d learned fairly quickly were your weaknesses as you learned his was his neck.

You let out a sweet breathless whimper as you caressed his face, pulling it away from your chest, and placing a kiss on his lips before you spoke “We mustn’t. But your hands are… as always quite inviting.” You smiled weakly

“I haven’t held you in some time.”

“Not since your Lord's wedding night.” You lips teasingly grazed his own,

“How have you felt… since that night. I mean, you’ve not had any uhm-“ He stammered, but you knew what he meant.

“Margery gave me moon tea and I’ve had my blood. You don’t need to worry about unpleasantness.” You knew your quick answer and tone would have signaled that you were angry or annoyed but it was just how you spoke. Direct and to the point.

“I didn’t mean to- I am sorry I just wanted to be sure. If we did it… create.. one it would be a-“ He stammered again,

“A bastard. I know this. Exactly the reason I drank the tea.” You tried to soften your tone this time as you ran your fingertips through his hair.

“But if we were- perhaps in different circumstances- we could have seen what would have come?” He said sweetly, you caressed his cheek before kissing him.

“Sweet boy.” You said into his lips, kissing him deeper, “Mmm” you moaned out as his tongue found yours. You ran your fingernails against his neck, dragging them slightly making him groan. “I can’t, I’ve a wedding to ready Margery for.” You said sitting up, as you did you felt his stiffened cock pressing against your inner thigh, “Oh,” You looked down and saw the bulge straining against his breeches, “I’m sorry-” You squeeked

He held your hand, “It’s alright, I enjoyed it. Truly, I missed you.” He said softly with a smile.

“Sweetest boy.” You said pressing a kiss into his hand.

“I shall see you at the wedding?”

“Naturally. You going to dance with me?” You asked teasingly, you took his hand and bit on his finger lightly.

He smiled at your bite, “I’ll beg my Lord to let me if I must. Are you going to dance with any other men?” He asked somewhat in jest but also wanting to know.

“I’ll spit in their drinks if they even ask.” You assured him,

“You will?” He let out a dry chuckle,

“I will say that I am promised to a great and honorable knight.” You smiled, but he looked confused, “You, Podrick.” You clarified.

He shook his head, “I’m not a knight,”

“You are.” You said earnestly, kissing his hand once more.

He smiled up at you, longingly “Are you sure you cannot stay longer?”

“Oh you wish for me to stay?” You teased. Podrick nodded with the same smile as before, “I can’t stay long.”

“I don’t need long.” He said strangely confidently.

“Oh? And what would you do?” You asked, kissing his neck, you could feel him twitch under you.

“Many things.” He grunted out,

“Like what, Podrick?” You loved teasing him like this, and he liked it too. “Anything you wanted.”

“You want me to tell you?” You asked sweetly and he nodded, “I want,” You kissed his lips softly, “your tongue,” you grazed his bottom lip with your own tongue, “Between my thighs.” you whispered into his lips. He groaned. “I want you to lick me while you fuck me with your fingers.” His hands roamed your sweet spots again, gripping them tighter. “I want to bite your neck right… here” You licked and bit at his neck, he bucked up into you involuntarily from the sensation. He moaned sweetly, “While I grind my cunt against your cock.” You began to roll your hips against his cock, “I want your hands to grip onto my breasts harshly when I finally push you inside me.” You sucked at the skin of his neck while you continued to roll your hips, “I want you to feel so good, you stop being so fucking sweet, and you pull my hair.” you bit at his neck slightly harder this time, “I want to feel your heat in my body when you finally melt.” You finally moved away from his neck and kissed his lips once more before pulling away. “You like it when I talk like that?” you asked softly and sweetly.

“Y-yes,” He stammered, his cock was so hard it almost hurt.

“Good,” You said, hopping off of him, “Cause that’s all you're getting until this horrid wedding is over with.” You began walking towards the door,

“What?” Podrick asked as he sat up on his shoulders.

You looked back him, “I like teasing you, makes you fuck harder.” You smiled mischievously, “I don’t enjoy your pain however,” You hiked up your skirts, pulling your small clothes down with it. “Here.” You handed him your dampened, small clothes, “Until tomorrow.” You said with a final kiss before leaving the room.

“Gods…” He said into your small clothes, slumping back into the bed and shoving his hand into his breeches.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

The day was taxing.

Margery’s hair, makeup, and dressing was a five woman job. The doll that you had the duty of dressing was no longer yours.

You hoped that this marriage would be easy on her, hopefully Joffrey truly loved her enough not to harm her. You couldn’t guarantee that if he did you wouldn’t kill him.

The only thing that relieved the stress was the guarantee that you’d be good and fucked by the end of the night.

The entire wedding was extravagant… and exhausting.

You stood behind Margaery and Joffrey as you held a pitcher of wine during the entire feast. That was until you noticed Podrick standing beside Lord Tyrion. He was staring at you with an adoring smile, which involuntarily evoked the same smile on your own face. Margaery looked back at you and noticed. She then dismissed you of your duties, allowing you to set down the wine on the table and walk to the side of the wedding floor.

Podrick whispered something to Lord Tyrion who then dismissed him as well.

When Podrick approached you, you smiled.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help with your headache last night. My Lady demands much of my time, and my healing duties sometimes suffer for that.” You spoke in code just in case anyone near heard you.

“Your gift helped.” He smirked at you, he leaned in a bit closer and whispered to you “You think this will be a happy union?” Looking over to Margaery and Joffrey.

You nodded, “The King Joffrey inspires great emotion.” You said, sneeringly making Podrick hold back a laugh.

“There has been far too much amusement,” Joffrey suddenly shouted, “A Royal wedding is not for amusement, but history. It is time we remember it! I give you the war of the five kings!” He said as a group of five dwarfs ran onto the wedding floor dressed as the five kings.

“Gods…” You mumbled as you rubbed your temples.

“My Lord says to pay them well afterwards.” Podrick whispered to you,

“A decent compensation for humiliation.” You whispered back sarcastically.

As you continued to watch you felt an overwhelming sense of anger. If there was one thing that stayed with you from your upbringing as a Mormont it was loyalty. Loyalty to the North. You’d forgotten this wound, but seeing the Lannisters making a joke of it only opened it again. As you looked at the dwarf who played Robb you felt disgust when you realized what was on his head. “Is that… a direwolve’s head?” Podrick looked at you with sympathy. “My aunt died in that war… I can’t watch this.” You said as you walked off, unable to bring yourself to continue it.

As you walked on, you felt a hand grip your arm, as you turned around you realized it was not Podrick by a Guard, “Get your hand off me,” you spat at him

“You handled the wine tonight did you not?” He questioned,

You tried to rip your arm away to no avail, “I served the Queen Margery. If she wished for wine she got it.” You said with venom,

“No Queen anymore, Bear Bitch.” He said before dragging you off to be questioned for the poisoning of King Joffrey.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

It had been a day since you were confound to the confines of your chambers. Unable to be let out but you couldn’t complain. Tyrion was in the dungeon and you in your chamber. Margaery assured you, no one believed you had done it. However a Mormont holding the wine of a poisoned Lannister was not unnoticed. They needed you for questioning and if Tyrion somehow was able to prove his innocence, you would be called upon next.

You laid on your bed, angry. You’d kicked away all the food they tried to give you. And spit in the face of every Guard that came into your chambers.

When you heard your chamber door beginning to open you sat up and were about to shout at them to let you out when you noticed who it was.

“Podrick,” “(Y/N)” You both said in unison as you both rushed to one another's arms.

“Are you alright?” He asked as he held your face examining you for any signs of harm “No one touched you did they?” His eyes piercing into yours

“No, no,” You lied, but he couldn’t do anything about it so why upset him? “Margery says they’ll let me go soon enough. They seem content with it being Tyrion.” You said, trying to calm him, ”Was it?”

“No.” He shook his head, then looked down as if he were disappointed in himself for what he was about to say next, “Some man, I didn’t know his face, offered to knight me. Under the condition that I testify against Lord Tyrion.” He looked back at you

“Tell him you’ll do it.” You responded swiftly. You wanted him to take any chance he got to get out of this situation.

“I already gave an answer, I said no.” He said, softly.

“Podrick, they’ve begun an investigation on Bronn have they not? They’ll find a reason to arrest him. They’ll do the same to you.” You held onto his face, you spoke directly trying to get him to see reason.

“Lord Tyrion commanded me to leave the city.”

You nodded, “You should leave.”

“But you-” He began but you interrupted him.

“That isn’t a suggestion.” You shook your head, “This is goodbye.” You began to tear up but fought it hard. “See to your duties whatever was commanded of you, then leave. Go far, far north.”

“Leave with me-” He asked desperately as he still held onto you,

“They won’t let me go, Podrick. I never wanted to be here. I’m a hostage, and now a prisoner. I can’t have the same for you.” You said softly, shaking your head.

He began to tear up as well, a single tear pushing its way through and falling down his cheek, “What if the moon tea didn’t work, what if you need me-”

“Podrick, you’re running out of time. Leave.” You commanded him as your own tears began to fall.

“I wanted to marry you.” He whispered,

“Podrick…” You held him closer, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, “I’ll find a way out soon enough, but first you go.”

He kissed you once more deeply before he whispered, “I’ll find you.” He promised it. He embraced you tightly once more as he ran his nose down your neck, breathing in your scent one last time before he did as you commanded.

As the chamber door closed, you slumped to the floor, and cried.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

NOTE:

I be blue balling yall. sowwy.

Xoxo,

Bambi

BELOVED TAGS:

@ryn-away @boojaynaqueen @holierthancunt @symonedoesart

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