#theon x hodor

[uluthrek]

making up wild asoiaf ships and posting them with a tag just to see if i’m the first weirdo who thought of them

[sowthetide]

Chapter 45: Hunger

The snow was still falling thicker than before, kissing her cheeks and slowly washing away the blood. She turned her face up to the iron-grey sky and closed her eyes. “It was a mercy,” she promised.

[jimcricket]

Not to be dramatic, but Brienne Of Tarth is my Queen

[anonwriter27]

Teen Spirit - Chapter Four :)

It was Halloween and the school had gone into overdrive. People wore costumes every day of the week and flyers were handed out to announce the various parties taking place.

Robb didn’t care much for Halloween; he had enjoyed it when he took his siblings trick or treating, but they did stuff on their own now. Except for Rickon; Robb could always count on his baby brother.

He walked past Talisa and her gang in the corridor, not even sparing them a glance, and walked to where Myrcella stood getting her books out of her locker.

“Hey, hows it going?” He asked and she smiled at him.

“I’m good thanks, I found a really good book for the project.” She answered and Robb adored the proud look on her face at her success.

“That’s great! We can look over it tonight if you want?”

Myrcella looked confused, “You’re not going out tonight?”

“Nah, Halloween’s isn’t my thing, you?”

“I love Halloween! I watch The Nightmare Before Christmas, eat cake, sing the songs...” Myrcella stopped herself, the voice in her head telling her she’d revealed too much.

She was brought out of her humiliation by Robb.

“We can do that tonight if you want?” He said.

“You want to watch The Nightmare Before Christmas with me?” She asked confused.

She used to have to hide as a child when she watched it. Joffrey didn’t like those movies, he had found them too scary. He always punished Myrcella when he caught her watching them, so she began to watch them on her laptop under the stairs.

“Yeah it sounds fun. We can hang out without doing work right?”

Myrcella looked over his shoulder to where the three witches stood. Talisa had been furious when she found out Myrcella was Robb’s project partner; two weeks had passed and she still glowered at the new girl.

“Are you sure?” She said pointedly.

“Absolutely.” He said, giving her a look that suggested he knew of her concerns.

“I’d like that.” She said shyly, looking down at her feet so he wouldn’t see her blush.

“Great, I’ll meet after class and we can watch it at my house. Sound good?” He asked.

Myrcella nodded and watched him leave to go to class. She felt that weird fluttering in her stomach again. It was the same feeling she got when they touched hands when he passed her a book, or the time he laughed at something she had said. She only got that feeling when she was with him, and like all the times before, she would ignore it.

…………..

Winterfell was beautiful and nothing like anything Myrcella had ever seen before.

Despite its somewhat bleak colouring and dark undertones, there was something oddly comforting about it. Everyone seemed real; back home Myrcella found everyone to be fake, their words saying something different to their eyes.

They hopped off the bus and walked up to Robb’s house. When they entered Myrcella could smell gingerbread and her stomach demanded to have some.

“I’m home!” Robb called out as Myrcella took off her shoes.

When Myrcella stood up she was greeted with a plate of gingerbread men smiling at her. The woman holding them was beautiful, with long red hair and kind blue eyes.

“Mother this is Myrcella.”

“Hello dear, I’m Catelyn.” She said, her voice as warm as her smile.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Myrcella said in a small voice.

Catelyn smiled at the young girl. She was shy and sweet, she hid behind her hair and twiddled nervously with her fingers. ‘Yes,’ Catelyn thought, ‘I like this girl.’

“We’re gonna watch a movie if that’s okay?” Robb asked.

“Of course! Here, take these with you.” She said handing him the plate, “Be careful they’re still a little hot.”

Robb bent down to kiss his mother on the cheek and headed to his room. Myrcella was stunned by how loving they were, she couldn’t imagine Joffrey being so kind to their mother.

“Sorry about the mess.” Robb said nervously as they entered his room. His desk was littered with books and papers.

“Oh it’s fine!” Myrcella insisted.

She sat on the end of his bed while he went to find the movie. His room was very him, she thought. It was filed with wooden furniture, dark oranges and reds found in the lamp shades and duvet.

“Found it!” He said and popped it into the DVD player.

“I thought this was a Christmas movie?” He said.

“It’s a Christmas AND Halloween movie, which means I can watch it for three months straight.” She said proudly and Robb shook his head and laughed.

They sat back on the bed, and while Myrcella was watching the movie, Robb was watching her.

She got all excited, wiggling when her favourite songs came on. She would hum along to the tune but Robb new she would be singing it if she were on her own.

……………..

It got to the end of the movie, when Jack and Sally sang ‘simply meant to be.’

“Do you have that?” Robb asked. “Hmmm?” “Someone you’re ‘meant to be’ with?”

“Oh! No… I’ve never, ummm…” “ I see.” He said, sensing her discomfort.

The song had finished before they spoke again.

“Do you?” She asked. “Hmmm?”

“Have someone?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, “I mean, I hang out with Talisa, we’ve kissed but… I don’t think we’re meant to be.”

“I see.” She said, ignoring her fluttering stomach.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. It began to open slowly when a messy head of curls popped out.

“Yes Rickon?” Robb said.

Rickon looked up then; he was a cute little boy with big eyes and a toothy grin, he was wearing a skeleton costume (He’d just come back from trick or treating with Bran). He walked up to them, his head lowered a little and stood in front of Myrcella.

“Hello.” He said and he blushed. “Hello.” She said smiling at the sweet little boy.

“Myrcella this is Rickon, Rickon this is Myrcella.” Robb introduced the pair.

Rickon was only six, but he had the charm of a gentleman. He took Myrcella’s hand and kissed the back of it, just like he had seen in one of Sansa’s movies.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He said, and Myrcella giggled.

“Alright Romeo, now what did you come in for?” Robb asked, amused at his brother’s antics.

“I heard you were watching a movie, but I see it’s finished.” He said, his voice sad.

“We can watch it again!” Myrcella said, not wanting to let the little boy down. They both turned to Robb, pleading looks on both their faces.

“Alright.” He said, and lifted Rickon onto the bed, a smug look resting on the little boys face.

They devoured the gingerbread men between them, they sang the songs together, scolded Oogie Boogie together, and smiled together when Jack and Sally were reunited

When Myrcella left that night Rickon vowed to marry her one day, much to the delight of their parents.

“I wish I had met her.” Ned said, noting how Robb blushed.

…………….

Myrcella was on a cloud her entire journey home. The Starks were lovely and she had enjoyed spending her evening with them, even if her stomach was in nots. She texted Ygritte when she got off the bus to let her know she was fine. Despite her relaxed attitude, Ygritte was a worrier.

When Myrcella got home she was surprised to find how cold it was. She turned on the lights and saw the windows were open. Myrcella was concerned but assumed she must have forgotten to shut them.

She walked into the kitchen and opened her cabinet to get a drink. Every glass had been shattered.

She turned around to look at her living room, the rug had been ripped up into little pieces, all scattered on the floor.

‘No.’ She thought.

She looked toward the front door but he was already there.

“Uncle Tyrion doesn’t keep a close eye on his address book.” Joffrey said.

“Why are you here?” She asked, her voice shaking.

“There’s a party down the street, thought I’d check it out. But then I remembered my sister is here. I thought she must be missing me, seeing how she hasn’t called, or visited in months.”

“I was going to…”

“Imagine my surprise when I knock on my little sisters door, and she’s not home. How do you think that made me feel?”

She could have ran, she could have screamed for help, she could have done anything; but the second he raised his fist, she knew there was no escaping.

…………….

“Hey Stark!” Ygritte called out.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“You seen Myrcella? I’ve been trying to call her all morning but she’s not picking up. Hodor and Osha went to visit her at her place but she wasn’t there.”

Robb was worried now, “She got the bus home from mine last night…”

“I know, she texted me when she got off the bus, but I haven’t heard from her since.”

“Hey!” They heard from a distance.

They saw Osha and Hodor running at full speed towards them. Jon and Theon joined the group, both seeing the look of worry on Robb’s face.

“Everything okay?” Jon asked.

“Hodor, Hodor!” Hodor yelled, tears in his eyes.

“Easy big guy, what happened?” Ygritte said, trying to seem calm.

“We bumped into the night manager of the building Myrcella lives in,” Osha started, “He says she was rushed to hospital last night.”

“What! Why?” Robb asked unable to mask his fear.

“He said some of her neighbours found her in a really bad way, the door to her flat was left wide open.”

All of them looked at each other, each wondering what could have happened to Myrcella Baratheon.

……………

She knew she was in hospital, she could tell by the bright lights and foul smell. She hated hospitals.

“Hello Miss Baratheon, can you hear me?”

She nodded.

“Are you feeling any better?” The nurse asked.

She nodded.

“Do you want something to eat?”

She nodded.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Myrcella took a deep breath and turned to the nurse.

“I fell.”

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ACOK: Bran VI (Chapter 46)

And he heard it again, clink and scrape. It brought him to his feet. His ears pricked and his tail rose. He howled, a long deep shivery cry, a howl to wake the sleepers, but the piles of man-rock were dark and dead.

x

His brother sat back on his haunches and lifted his voice in a ululating howl, his song black with mourning.

The horn that wakes the sleepers, he thought. - Jon V, ACOK 

Mmkay.

Nice of the author to tell us howling means danger and mourning, coming off that Catelyn chapter where everyone in Riverrun was howling.........

+.+

His brother came sliding through the trees, moving almost as quiet as another brother he remembered dimly from long ago, the white one with the eyes of blood.

Ghost appeared beside him, his warm breath steaming in the cold. In the moonlight, his red eyes glowed like pools of fire. - Jon III, ADWD

Ghost’s eyes look like fire & blood. 

+.+

Snarling, he paced back and forth in front of the gate, then threw himself at it once more. It moved a little and slammed him back. Locked, something whispered. Chained. The voice he did not hear, the scent without a smell. The other ways were closed as well. Where doors opened in the walls of man-rock, the wood was thick and strong. There was no way out.

There is, the whisper came, and it seemed as if he could see the shadow of a great tree covered in needles, slanting up out of the black earth to ten times the height of a man. Yet when he looked about, it was not there. The other side of the godswood, the sentinel, hurry, hurry . . .

DO YOU SEE THIS? The whispering IS Bran!

Calm as still water, a small voice whispered in her ear. Arya was so startled she almost dropped her bundle. She looked around wildly, but there was no one in the stable but her, and the horses, and the dead men.

Quiet as a shadow, she heard. Was it her own voice, or Syrio's? She could not tell, yet somehow it calmed her fears. - Arya IV, AGOT

BRAN. IT’S BRAN. He can see everything!

+.+

The smell of fear made his heart thunder and slaver ran from his jaws, and he reached the falling tree in stride and threw himself up the trunk, claws scrabbling at the bark for purchase. Upward he bounded, up, two bounds, three, hardly slowing, until he was among the lower limbs.

That’s awfully impressive.

+.+

Torrhen's Square was under attack by some monstrous war chief named Dagmer Cleftjaw. Old Nan said he couldn't be killed, that once a foe had cut his head in two with an axe, but Dagmer was so fierce he'd just pushed the two halves back together and held them until they healed up.

Rare miss, Old Nan.

+.+

I'm Prince Theon now. We're both princes, Bran. Who would have dreamed it?

More people than you realize.

+.+

He had expected that Hodor would come for him, or maybe one of the serving girls, but when the door next opened it was Maester Luwin, carrying a candle. "Bran," he said, "you . . . know what has happened? You have been told?" The skin was broken above his left eye, and blood ran down that side of his face.

Noooo! :(

+.+

Cruel places breed cruel peoples, Bran, remember that as you deal with these ironmen.

He laughed. "Windy and cold and damp. A miserable hard place, in truth . . . but my lord father once told me that hard places breed hard men, and hard men rule the world." - Theon I, ACOK

+.+

Theon Greyjoy was seated in the high seat of the Starks.

(...)

"Theon's sitting in Robb's chair," Rickon said. 

That bodes well for Theon.

+.+

"Haven't fucked no one since they took me, m'lord. Heke's me true name. I was in service to the Bastard o' the Dreadfort till the Starks give him an arrow in the back for a wedding gift."

Theon found that amusing. "Who did he marry?"

"The widow o' Hornwood, m'lord."

"That crone? Was he blind? She has teats like empty wineskins, dry and withered."

"It wasn't her teats he wed her for, m'lord."

Claiming lands that don’t belong to you doesn’t come naturally for Theon.

+.+

The ironmen slammed shut the tall doors at the foot of the hall. From the high seat, Bran could see about twenty of them. He probably left some guards on the gates and the armory. Even so, there couldn't be more than thirty.

Thirty men. It took thirty men. This is a tragedy. I’m mad at everyone.

+.+

"Listen to your little lordling, Mikken," said Theon. "He has more sense than you do."

A good lord protects his people, he reminded himself. "I've yielded Winterfell to Theon."

I can’t wait for Bran and Edmure to run Westeros.

+.+

"Louder, Bran. And call me prince."    

+.+

"Bugger that." Mikken wiped the blood from his mouth. "I serve the Starks, not some treasonous squid of—aah." The butt of the spear smashed him face first into the stone floor.

"Smiths have strong arms and weak heads," observed Theon. "But if the rest of you serve me as loyally as you served Ned Stark, you'll find me as generous a lord as you could want."

On his hands and knees, Mikken spat blood. Please don't, Bran wished at him, but the blacksmith shouted, "If you think you can hold the north with this sorry lot o'—"

The bald man drove the point of his spear into the back of Mikken's neck. Steel slid through flesh and came out his throat in a welter of blood.

Gendry was only spared because he'd admitted to forging the horned helm himself; smiths, even apprentice smiths, were too valuable to kill. - Arya VI, ACOK

Not the brightest people.

+.+

If Robb Stark can stave off the Lannisters, he may reign as King of the Trident hereafter, but House Greyjoy holds the north now.

He’s so dumb. Is that how he sees this playing out? Good lord.

+.+

"M'lord Greyjoy!" Osha stepped past Mikken's body. "I was brought here captive too. You were there the day I was taken."

I thought you were a friend, Bran thought, hurt.

"I need fighters," Theon declared, "not kitchen sluts."

"It was Robb Stark put me in the kitchens. For the best part of a year, I've been left to scour kettles, scrape grease, and warm the straw for this one." She threw a look at Gage. "I've had a bellyful of it. Put a spear in my hand again."

Eerily similar to what Tyrion wanted to do with Shae.

Don’t worry little one, trust in Osha.

+.+

"Someone kindly shut that halfwit up."

Two ironmen began to beat Hodor with the butts of their spears. The stableboy dropped to the floor, trying to shield himself with his hands.

x

Hodor was given the task of bearing Bran back to his bed. His face was all ugly from the beating, his nose swollen and one eye closed. "Hodor," he sobbed between cracked lips as he lifted Bran in huge strong arms and bloody hands and carried him back out into the rain.

Noooo! :(

Fuck you Theon!

Final thoughts:

Depressed.

-> return to menu <-

[hollowwhisperings]

ASOIAF character ages going into Winds of Winter (300AC).

KEY

• [X AC] = X years after Aegon I Targaryen's Crowning in Oldtown.

• [~X] = almost/roughly X years old.

• [X-Y] = age range of X to Y years old.

• [X~Y] = minimum age to maximum, given contextual evidence.

• [x*] = if x character is not dead

~ All ages are derived from birthdates on the ASOIAF wiki, as given in canon or as calculated by fans ~

OLD AS HECK

• Brynden "Bloodraven" Rivers (125)

• Lord Walder Frey (92)

• Lady-Dowager Olenna "Queen of Thorns" Redwyne (82)

ADULTS

• Ser Barristan Selmy (64-73)

• Ser Brynden "The Blackfish" Tully (~57)

• Lord Wyman Manderly (48-61 y/o)

• Lady Maege Mormont (41-61 y/o)

• Ser Jorah Mormont (~46)

• Prince Doran Martell & Captain Areo Hotar (~43)

• Ser Davos Seaworth (40-45)

• Ser Jon Connington & Lord Roose Bolton (~40)

• Lord Mace Tyrell (37~44)

• King Stannis I Baratheon (36)

• Lady Alerie Hightower (36~43)

• Lord Howland Reed (35-40)

• Ser Jaime Lannister & Queen Cersei I (34)

• First Ranger Benjen Stark & Aurane Waters (~33)

• King Euron "Crow's Eye" Greyjoy (32~43 y/o)

• Lord Petyr "Littlefinger" Baelish (32)

• Victarion Greyjoy (31~43)

• Ser Sandor Clegane* (~30)

• Obara Sand (~29)

• Ser Harrold Hardyng (~29)

• Tyrion Lannister (27)

• Ser Gerold "Darkstar" Dayne (26-30)

• Lord Edmure Tully (26~33)

• Nymeria "Lady Nym" Sand & Lady Taena Merryweather (~26)

• Asha Greyjoy (~25)

• Ser Willas Tyrell (24~31)

YOUNG ADULTS

• Princess Arianne Martell (24)

• Tyene Sand & Ser Garlan Tyrell (23)

• Theon Greyjoy* (22)

• Mya Stone & Myranda Royce (~21)

• ~20 y/o: Brienne of Tarth, Wynafryd Manderly & Sarella "The Sphinx" Sand.

• Steward Satin of The Night's Watch (18-20)

HODOR

• Walder of Winterfell, 15~25.

TEENAGERS

• ~18 y/o: Aegon VI "Young Griff" Targaryen, Ramsay Snow, Lady Roslin Frey, Ser Loras Tyrell*, Lancel Lannister.

• Penny (17-19)

• ~17 y/o: Queen Margaery I, Queen Jeyne I*, Meera Reed, Lord Commander Jon Snow*, Novice Samwell "The Slayer" Tarly, Queen Daenerys I Targaryen, Irri.

• ~16 y/o: Jhiqui, Gendry Waters, Lady Alys Karstark.

• Wylla Manderly (14-16)

• Martyn Lannister (13-15)

CHILDREN

• ~14 y/o: Sansa "Alayne" Stark, Jeyne Poole*, Jojen Reed, Podrick Payne, Elia Sand.

• 13 y/o: Trystane Martell, Lord Ned Dayne*, Edric Storm, Devan Seaworth.

• ~12: Missandei of Naath & Obella Sand.

• 11 y/o: Arya "No-One" Stark, Beth Cassel*, Princess Shireen Baratheon.

• 10 y/o: Bran Stark, Lyanna Mormont, Elmar Frey, Princess Myrcella*.

• ~8 y/o: Lord Robert "Sweetrobin" Arryn, King Tommen I, Dorea Sand.

• 7 y/o: Loreza Sand.

TODDLERS&BABIES

• Rickon Stark* (5)

• ~2: Ghost, Nymeria, Summer & Shaggydog* (born in 298AC, AGOT).

• "Monster", Drogon, Viserion & Rhaegal (born 299AC).

• Prince Aemon Steelsong, son of Dalla (born 300AC).

UNKNOWN: Ellaria Sand, Lord Yohn Royce, Lord Orton Merryweather, Dolorous Edd, Queen Selyse Florent, Ser Ilyn Payne, Daario Naharis, Hizdahr zo Loraq, King Mance Rayder, Magnar Sigorn of Thenn, Tormund Giantsbane, Osha, Val.

*IF NOT DEAD

• Ashara Dayne, dead at 14~23 y/o in 283AC.

• Ashara Dayne, (~36): for rumours of Ned/Ashara to be at all plausible to me, Ashara must have been 16 years old at MINIMUM during the Tourney of Harrenhall (well within her approximated birthdates of 260-269AC).

[ao3feed-tywin]

I swear it by the Old Gods, and the New (Sandor Clegane x Female!Reader)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3g8f8t7

by Squiish

You had grown up allies with house Lannister, a high-born young woman such as yourself would be an ideal Queen for the recently-crowned King Joffrey, refusing such a proposal would surely mean devastation for your houses' centuries-old bond, however your heart lies elsewhere and you'd sooner die than marry the King of Winterfell.

Words: 1080, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Game of Thrones (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/M

Characters: Female Reader - Character, Original Female Character(s), Sandor Clegane, The Hound - Character, Tyrion Lannister, Myrcella Baratheon, Cersei Lannister, Jaime Lannister, King Slayer, Joffrey Baratheon, Tommen Baratheon, The Mountain - Character, Gregor Clegane, Sansa Stark, Jon Snow, Arya Stark, Ned Stark, Samwell Tarly, Gilly (ASoIaF), Daenerys Targaryen, Tormund Giantsbane, Petyr Baelish, Littlefinger, Robb Stark, Brienne of Tarth, Gendry Waters, Bran Stark, Margaery Tyrell, Catelyn Tully Stark, Rickon Stark, Davos Seaworth, Robert Baratheon, Stannis Baratheon, Ramsay Bolton, Tywin Lannister, Podrick Payne, Oberyn Martell, Benjen Stark, Hodor (ASoIaF), Kevan Lannister, Original House Lannister Character(s), Theon Greyjoy, Grey Worm, Yara Greyjoy, Euron Greyjoy, Balon Greyjoy, Grey Wind (ASoIaF), Alannys Greyjoy, Aeron "Damphair" Greyjoy, Original House Greyjoy Character(s), Greyjoys (ASoIaF), Lyanna Stark, Brandon Stark, Rickard Stark, Original House Stark Character(s), Alys Karstark, Starks (ASoIaF), Khal Drogo, Varys (ASoIaF), Mae

Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Reader, The Hound/ Reader, Ser Clagane/ Reader, GOT/ Reader, The Hound (Sandor Clegane)/ Reader

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3g8f8t7

[closethedoorandcomehere]

Spoilers, profanity, Jaime x Brienne. Game of Thrones. A Song of Ice and Fire. ACoK Bran VI

Close The Door And Come Here - Bran VI

Theon is such a dick. The Walders are kind of delightful. Osha is no kneeler. And don't you Ironborn dare lay a finger on our sweet Hodor!

[iliumheightnights]

Remembrance | Robb Stark x Male Reader

Fandom: Game of Thrones

Pairing: Robb Stark x Male Reader

Summary: (M/N) finds Robb alive after thinking he was dead. 

A.K.A, an alternate universe where Robb survives the red wedding somehow.

…

“King Robb and Lady Catelyn are dead! Killed by the Frey’s at the twins!”

(M/N) stopped as he heard those words. Not just two days had passed since he had left his love to deal with Theon. He had been worried about leaving Robb, but the man assured him he would be okay. He should have trusted his instinct. Now Robb was dead and he wasn’t there to protect him...at the least to die with him.

When they arrived at Winterfell they found that the ironborn had all been killed or captured and the Boltons now held it as their keep. (M/N) couldn’t believe it, there was practically nothing left for the Starks. He knew that if he tried to retake Winterfell he and his forces would die. He ordered his forces to fall back and then disbanded the war party. “Return to your keeps, swear loyalty to the Boltons,when I find Bran,Rickon, Arya or Sansa...be prepared to retake Winterfell.”

…

It had been months since the events of the red wedding happened. (M/N) was haunted by the visions of Robb. He couldn’t remember if he told him that he loved him before he had left. That was the part that (M/N) worried about the most. He didn’t want the last thing he said to Robb to be awful or an argument.

It was a common occurrence for him to see Robb in his dreams whenever he went to sleep. Robb would be standing there like any other day and smile at him with that stupid grin. (M/N) would try to get to him but before he could reach him Robb would look like he had just been stabbed and would fall just out of (M/N)’s reach. And those were the good nights.

Sometimes when he would be travelling he would believe that he had seen his lover standing in the treeline, or sometimes he would think he was among the crowd of people. It was never true. He couldn’t seem to get it through his head that Robb was gone, the king of the north was dead. He thought about what Robb would say if he could see him now. He’d laugh at him for being so weak, for not being able to move on. 

No. Robb wouldn’t think that at all. Robb would apologize for worrying him, apologize for leaving so soon. He would tell him how much he loved him and how they’d meet again. (M/N) knew that's what Robb would really say. He saw how broken his love was after his father was killed in kings landing, he’d never judge (M/N) for grieving.

Sometimes (M/N) hated the fact that he was alive. Why was he still breathing when Robb and most of the Starks were dead or missing? Missing. He had to find the Stark kids, that’s the least he could do for Robb, Ned and Catelyn. So that became his next mission, he knew that Sansa was being held by the lannisters. Bran had been at Winterfell with Rickon if anything Osha and Hodor would protect them both. Arya was what concerned (M/N), the lannisters said they had her...but he knew they were lying. Arya couldn’t be captured by anyone.

So that’s what (M/N) had been doing now. Searching for the lost Stark Girl. He had looked everywhere, From king's landing to even casterly rock. Everywhere he looked he didn’t find her. His search finally brought him to one place he was hoping to avoid. The Twins. Of course, he couldn’t just go around asking for a missing Stark. They’d have his head before he even thought of escape. His best chance of finding out if she was here would be to sneak into the dungeons.

Sneaking into the dungeons was no easy feat, for some people. For (M/N) all he had to do was kill a guard and take their uniform. Maybe it wouldn’t work for say the Lannisters, but for the Frey’s they were too stuck up to truly notice that he didn’t belong. He approached the dungeon and spoke to the guard. “You lucky Bastard. Lord Frey says you get to go have fun with the others, I get stuck guarding the pigs tonight.” The guard laughed and handed him the keys before he started walking away. “Sucks for you! Imma go find a nice woman to bed.” (M/N) rolled his eyes and waited for the guard’s footsteps to quiet. Once the coast was clear, he turned and entered the dungeon.

The cells were mostly empty, probably because Walder Frey liked to execute his prisoners rather than waste food on them. The few cages that did have prisoners looked like they had been there for a while, but no sign of Arya so far. Then (M/N) caught his breath as he took in the sight of someone he didn’t think he’d see ever again. “No...it can’t be. Robb?” He stepped closer to the cell and the man inside looked up. The man’s eyes widened and quickly stood up rushing to him. “(M/N)! By the gods what are you doing here?” (M/N) felt Robb’s hands grab his own on the bars. He actually felt him. He was real, he was alive. He looked exactly like he had, but with more messy hair and beard. “How are you...nevermind. Let’s get you out of here.” (M/N) quickly unlocked the cell and was engulfed in a hug by Robb. “Oh gods...It’s so good to see you. I thought I’d never see you again.” (M/N) hugged him back but quickly let go. “I thought the same, we’ll talk later but now we have to go. Here.” He handed Robb a cloak from the wall. Must have been left by another guard. The man quickly put it on. “So what’s the plan?” Robb asked. “You follow my lead.” He gripped Robb’s shoulder and began walking out of the keep. (M/N) quickly checked the hallway and was glad to see it still empty. “We’ll go through the secret entrance. That’s how I got in here.” Getting out of the Twins was surprisingly just as easy as getting in. They never expected someone to come and steal the king in the north.

(M/N) and Robb made it back to where (M/N) had left his horse. “Okay you’re up first, we need to go.” (M/N) quickly undressed from the Frey uniform and got back into his regular outfit. He grinned as he caught Robb watching him. He helped Robb onto the horse and followed soon after. “Okay let’s get out of here before they realize you’re missing.” (M/N) wrapped his arms around Robb’s body and grabbed the reins. The two booked it as far from the Twins and the Freys as they could.

As they rode it seemed to be too quiet. “What happened to you? I thought you were dead?” Robb stiffed a bit. “I thought I was. I had been shot multiple times and stabbed, but somehow...not enough to kill me. Walder Frey wanted to use me as a hostage in case the North retaliated...but I can see that isn’t going to happen anytime soon.” (M/N) let out a huffed, forced laugh. “North’s in a large civil war right now. No one’s saving anyone anytime soon dear...I heard they sewed Grey wind’s head onto your body. I’m guessing it was some other poor sap?” Robb nodded. It got quiet again. “I’m sorry about your mom Robb. She was a strong woman and I’m sure she’s watching over you with your father right now.” Robb didn’t say anything but leaned back into (M/N). They were quiet the rest of the ride.

They rode on for another day and only stopped to rest when they were sure they were far enough not to be followed. They arrived at an old hut, it seemed to be worn down by the weather. “Here, this looks abandoned. We can rest in here for the night.” (M/N) jumped off the horse and helped Robb down. “I’m fine, I’m fine. You don’t need to coddle me.” (M/N) tied up the horse. “Oh I think I do. I thought you were dead for months. I don’t want you out of my sight again.”

The inside of the hut was at least still stable. The roof didn’t look like it was about to collapse so that was the most important thing. (M/N) started a small fire in the fireplace and pulled out his pack. He took out a knife and threw it towards Robb. “Here. Get yourself cleaned up. Looking more like a wildling now.” Robb laughed and took the knife. “You wish.” Robb was going to start but stopped as he had an idea. “Why don’t you help me?” He wiggled his eyebrows at his love.

(M/N) sighed but grabbed the knife and began shaving him. He kept his hands steady as he worked his magic. “I’ve missed this...well not shaving you but just getting to feel you. I never thought I’d get to do this again. Glad I was wrong.” Robb smiled and rubbed (M/N)’s arm. “I’m glad you were wrong too.” (M//N) finished shaving Robb and cut his hair down back to the length it was at before the red wedding. The two looked into each other's eyes and leaned in. (M/N) felt Robb’s lips on his and pressed deeper. It had been so long and he almost forgot what his love felt like. 

The two broke apart and cuddled together in front of the fireplace. “So what happens now? I can unite the houses and rally them against the Boltons and Freys.” Robb said but (M/N) only shook his head. “I can’t see that going well. The red wedding killed many of your loyal men and the survivors won’t easily come back just yet. Perhaps you and I should figure out how to save Sansa or to find Arya or Bran and Rickon.” Robb frowned. “We’ll find them, I want them to be safe. Protected. But I also want my family home back. Those Boltons-” (M/N) interrupted him. “Will pay for what they’ve done. But there’s nothing we can do right now. For now just try and relax and we’ll come up with a plan tomorrow. For now…” He let his fingers move across Robb’s chest. 

“Let’s make up for lost time.”

[thejustmaiden]

GoT Tag Game: Season 7 premieres in less than two weeks! Answer the questions then tag 7 people.

1. The first character I fell in love with: probably Jorah tbh and I still got nothing but love for him

2. A character I never expected to love as much as I do now: Jaime (I was always intrigued by his character, even before the bathtub scene. Still, I didn’t think I would grow to love him as much as I do now. He’s my fave in the whole show!!)

3. A character everybody else loves but I don’t: don’t really have one but a popular character I’m kinda indifferent towards is the Hound (sorry lol)

4. A character I love that everybody else hates: Theon seems to fit here

5. A character I used to love but don’t any longer: Arya (I still love her character, don’t get me wrong. I’ve just been disappointed in her storyline for a while, that’s all. I’m excited to see she’s now made her way back to Westeros. Thank the gods!)

6. A character I would kiss: Jaime, Jon, Jorah…all the J’s, baby! I mean, why the hell not?! :P

7. A character I’d slap: Cersei orrr wait Littlefinger actually edges her out

8. A character I’d want to be like: Brienne or Margaery, or even a combo of the two!

9. A character I would like to act out/play in the show: Brienne or Arya, because defying gender roles AND kicking ass?? sign me up!

10. A character who makes me laugh: Tyrion will always be the wittiest but Bronn still surprises me with how much he can crack me up.

11. A character I miss the most: Ned…or Oberyn…or Hodor!? don’t make me choose.

12. A pairing I love: Jaime x Brienne (always); there are a few others I can get behind but I don’t really put much stock in any of those

13. A pairing I hate: ship and let ship, buttt since you asked, Cerse! x J@ime, because omg no!

I tag: @rockinarounduniverse @godomischief @jellybaby74 @wackygoofball @weirddreamergirl @housedovalle @francescasalazarus

[scripts4dreamers]

Long Road to Happy

AN: You’ve loved Bran Stark for as long as you could remember, but now everything has changed and you’re not sure you can hold on to this fantasy for much longer. Characters: Bran Stark, Meera Reed, Arya Stark.

Pairing(s): Bran Stark x reader Spoiler(s): plotlines for season eight. Warning(s): Mentions of death.

----------------------------

“Gods above!” You cursed as the cold air bit into the parts of your face and hands you hadn’t managed to cover.

You wrapped your thick cloak more tightly around yourself and stared out over the courtyard of Winterfell. Preparations for the Great War seemed to be going well but, deep down you knew that they wouldn’t be enough. Even if every man and woman in the north worked for ten years, they would never be enough, the dead were too numerous, to unfeeling, too unstoppable. In the back of your mind you heard their screams, the thundering of their feet against the cave floor and felt the sense of hopelessness crash over you again. You shivered and tucked your hands into the crook of your elbow, squeezing your body tight. You’d think that having spent so many years in the north, growing up in Winterfell and dragging Bran around beyond the wall would have made you accustomed to the cold but it seemed like, as far as your body was concerned, you’d always be a southerner.

“It’ll get a lot colder in the next few weeks,” Arya Stark commented, appearing beside you like a ghost.

You jumped, but gave Arya a tired smile and tightened your grip on your stomach, “Well, luckily for me, I’ll probably be dead by then, and I’ve been lead to believe that the cold doesn’t bother zombies.”

Arya didn’t exactly smile, but her eyes crinkled up at the sides and the edges of her mouth twitched up. She followed your gaze out across the courtyard to where the red leaves of the godswood were just barely visible and you felt, more than heard, her shift her weight uncomfortably.

“The last of the wagons are leaving tomorrow. I’ve asked them to save you a spot on one headed to Highgarden, but you have to decide soon.” she said gently. You swallowed hard but didn’t move to meet Arya’s gaze, keeping your eyes locked on the godswood. She sighed and continued, “It’s been weeks since Meera left, Y/N. If you’re still conflicted-”

“I’m not talking to him about it, Arya,” you interrupted, “I already know what he would say.”

“No, you don’t.”

“He sent Meera away without so much as a goodbye!” You reminded her, surprising yourself with the intensity of your frustration, “After three years, three years of feeding him and protecting him he just-” you broke off and shook your head, blinking back tears, “I don’t know if I could handle him treating me that way.”

“But you’re not Meera Reed,” Arya insisted, gripping your forearm and forcing you to turn to face her, “you’re Y/N Y/L/N, you grew up with us, we’ve known you since we were children.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“It does!” she corrected, “Y/N, Bran-he-” she paused, “nothing is certain right now. As you said, we could all be dead in the next few weeks. You can’t leave without telling Bran, not now. Give him a chance to prove you wrong, or you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

“He’s not Bran anymore, Arya.” you said softly, your voice breaking.

“Yes he is,” she replied gently, “for you, he is.”

---------------------

As you made your way through the courtyard, you tried to pretend that your heart wasn’t pounding in your chest. You felt as though everyone was staring at you, like they knew what you were about to do and thought you were an idiot for even trying. Part of you agreed with them of course. After all, you’d been the one who had to listen to Meera and help her find her way home.

“Meera I’m sure Bran didn’t-”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Y/N? He’s not Bran anymore! He’s the three eyed raven, and surprise surprise, the three eyed raven doesn’t give a shitt about you or me.” Meera fumed as she shoved her few possessions into a bag.

You pressed your lips together, unsure how to navigate the situation at hand.

“Maybe if I just go and talk to him about it-” you tried, your voice fading off as you realised that you had know idea what to do.

Meera rolled her eyes but replied, not unkindly, “You think he loves you, don’t you? Or maybe you hope he does?” You blushed bright red but didn’t contradict her, which Meera took as a sign of agreement, “Well, if he ever loved you back, I think those days are gone Y/N/N. I’m sorry, truly I am, but I can’t stay here.”

You blinked back into reality, the unpleasant memory leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. Meera was your friend, you’d survived so much together and seeing her leave the way she did had broken your heart. You wanted to be angry on her behalf, you really did. You wanted to rage and scream and storm out of Winterfell and never look back. You wanted to make Bran feel the hurt he’d caused her. Or at least you wanted to want that. In reality, you just wanted Bran.

The smell of smoke from the forges burnt your nose as you inhaled and you were reminded again of how much everything had changed. Winterfell barely resembled the castle you’d grown up in, now everything was harsh and sharp, ready for battle, ready for death. In a morbid sort of way, it was just like you. You suddenly had a sharp pang of longing for your childhood, for the easy days when you and Bran would chase one another through the passageways, play knights and kings in the godswood and clamber up onto the ramparts. Everything had been so beautiful then and, up until now, you’d never truly understood how far behind you those days were, how irretrievable. Bran had known, you thought to yourself, he’d known for years.

The firelight danced off the darkened trees, casting terrifying long shadows that you tried to avoid seeing. Everything beyond the wall felt strange and alien, but some small part of you still thrummed with excitement. No one in your family had ever gone this far north and, no matter what else may happen, you were with Bran. For a rare moment, everything seemed peaceful. Hodor was warming his hands, Meera was out hunting and Jojen seemed to be feeling stronger. Only Bran seemed discontent. He’d been avoiding you for days now, ever since the run in you’d had with a pack of wolves. Summer had scared them off well enough, but not before you’d gotten a nasty scratch and made a fool of yourself by sobbing like a little girl over it. Part of you wondered if you’d simply lost his respect, another part thought that maybe you’d never had it in the first place. Suddenly, Bran looked directly at you and your heart fluttered in your chest as he met your eye, smiled sadly at you from across the fire and gestured for you to join him.  

“Are you alright?” you asked, trying to hide your excitement and passing him a skin to drink from.

Bran was silent for a long moment, giving you time to trace his face with your eyes, drinking in every dip and curve like a person dying of thirst looking at the last river in the world. Something was wrong and you knew it, something was weighing heavily on Bran’s mind. He was beautiful; dark and handsome with a smile that made you feel like your stomach had turned to molten lava whenever it graced his face. But now his face was sad and drawn, as though he’d seen too much which, you supposed, was accurate enough.

“I miss home,” Bran finally said, his voice small, “I miss Winterfell.”

For a moment he sounded young again, like the boy who had fallen from a high tower, and your heart pinched with concern.

“I do too,” you admitted, “but we’ll see it again someday. Once we’ve found the three eyed raven and fulfilled your destiny, we can go home and start again. We’ll take back Winterfell and reclaim the North, and everything can go back to how it was.”

Bran looked at you, something welling in his eyes that hovered between pity and awe. It made your skin tingle, like lightning was about to strike or a storm was about to break.  

“You really believe that, don’t you?” he asked, staring like you were a puzzle he enjoyed trying to crack, “You believe that everything is going to be alright in the end, that we can go back and start over?”

The weight of his gaze made you want to look away, but you didn’t. You held your head up and shrugged with one shoulder, answering, “I have to. Every morning that I wake up cold and hungry or afraid, I have to believe that the next morning will be better, that all this suffering isn’t for nothing.”

Bran nodded thoughtfully, his eyes becoming sad and pained as he turned back to the fire, “I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately, having had this conversation countless times over the years, “Bran-”

“I put you in danger Y/N! I put your life at risk all so that -” he broke off quickly.

“All so that what, Bran?” you asked, feeling yourself hit the same wall he threw up every time this fight started, “You know I wouldn’t have been safe at Winterfell, and I begged to be allowed to come with you.” You reminded him. Bran pressed his lips together but didn’t answer. Your chest pinched and you forced down your frustration, leaning forward to hold his forearm and willed him to face you again, “You really think, after all the years I’ve known you, I would’ve just let you and Rickon disappear into the wilderness without me?” you asked, covering his hand with your own, “Or that Theon would’ve just let me go home after he found out that you’d gotten away? We’ve been over this so many times now Bran, all so what?”

“All so that I wouldn’t have to say goodbye to you!” he blurted out, his dark eyes flicking up to meet yours for a second before flicking back to the ground, “I was being selfish, and now you’re stuck out here, hundreds of miles away from everything you’ve ever known, surrounded by danger with no one but a cripple who can’t even protect himself, let alone protect you.” Bran continued, words pouring from his mouth like an opened floodgate. You felt something bloom in the silence, a kind of tension that made you oddly breathless, He stared down at your hands and slowly swiped his thumb over your fingers, sending a shiver down your spine and igniting a warmth from everywhere your skin touched, “I should be sorry,” he continued softly, his voice barely more than a whisper, “that’s all I’ve been doing these past few days, trying to be sorry. When I saw you surrounded by those wolves, I was. I would've given anything to send you far away and know that you were safe, but now,” he said, squeezing your hands in his and shaking his head incredulously, “now I’m just glad you’re with me.” You swallowed hard and opened your mouth, willing yourself to say something, anything, but nothing came out. This time, when Bran smiled, it was sweet and fond and, when he brought your hands up and brushed his lips against your fingers, he held your gaze, “See? I told you I was selfish.”

You shook your head and let out a shaky breath, the memory of Bran’s smile swimming before your eyes as you stepped into the godswood. You found him exactly where you thought you would, beneath the sprawling weirwood, staring into the distance. The sight of him still made something in your chest leap and ache, but you pushed it aside. At the end of the day, you were here for a reason. You didn’t announce yourself and he didn’t acknowledge you.

“The night king has made it past the wall,” Bran said, as though he was commenting on the weather, “his army will be here soon.”

“Yes, I heard,” you responded. The silence that followed felt, to you, like every single word, every gesture and touch that had ever passed between you and Bran, every lost chance, and it nearly brought you to tears. You sniffed and wiped your face, hardening your resolve and forcing your emotions down.

“I’ve been wanting to see you,” he said pleasantly, “it’s been a long time.”

“I’ve been packing,” you explained, “I’m going south. Tomorrow.”

That got his attention. In no time at all the faraway look vanished from Bran’s face and he met your gaze head on, with more presence than he’d had in weeks. Some small part of you was pleased by his hurt expression, pleased to see any reaction at all really, but it was drowned out by the breaking of your heart because now it was him, Bran Stark, the man you’d been in love with for nearly a decade. He was right there and gods had you missed him.

“You’re leaving?” he asked, shocked.

“First thing tomorrow,” you answered and then, vindictively, “I thought you would have known that already.”.

“No, you can’t leave, not now.” Bran replied, his voice coloured by something that felt a lot like hurt, “Y/N please-”

“Give me a reason not to,” you replied, horrified at the note of pleading in your voice, “I don’t want to-”, You swallowed hard, “give me one good reason and I swear I’ll stay.”

Bran stammered, his dark eyes wide with shock and pain, “I still need you.”

“To do what?” You laughed as you begun to lose your battle with your tears, “stand around like a good little servant while you sit in silence and stare at nothing? Take up space until you send me away like Meera?”

Bran frowned, “I could never send you away, Y/N, you know that.”

“Why not?” you asked desperately, years of emotion coming to a head, “Why could you never send me away? Why am I still here even though our quest is over? Why were you never sorry? Why me, Bran? Why should I stay here and die with you rather than go south and die with my family?”

“Because I love you,” he answered, equally passionately, “I love you Y/N and I know, I know you love me too.”

Whatever shock you may have felt was lost in the veritable tidal wave of conflicting emotions that were tearing you up. You wanted to laugh, to cry, to scream and rage and throw yourself into Bran’s arms. A million thoughts and none at all rushed through your mind but, eventually, all you said was,

“You knew. You’ve known this whole time and you never-” you broke off, pressing the heel of your hand to your forehead as a hot tear rolled down your cheek.

Bran’s eyes widened and he leaned forward, as if to touch you, before realising his mistake and sitting back.

“Not for long,” he said quickly, “I only saw it a few months ago. I wanted to say something, I did but-”

“But it doesn’t matter,” you finished, “it never mattered, you said it yourself. You’re the three eyed raven now, you belong to the realm. Gods, I’m such an idiot”

“Y/N, I will always love you,” Bran promised, taking your hand in his, “if it was any other time, any other threat I would tell you to go, to find someone who deserves you, but I need you now. I can’t do this alone.”

You looked away, knowing that his earnest, open look would break you. Everything inside of you felt raw and tender, like an exposed nerve. You felt naked and vulnerable, like Bran could see into your very soul. He loves you, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you. You should’ve been happy. You should’ve been jumping with joy, but instead Bran’s confession did nothing but make you feel even more alone.

You shook your head, “That’s not enough,” you said, sadly, “I wish it was. I want it to be a good enough reason, but it isn’t.” You looked back at Bran, hoping he could see the sincerity in your eyes, “Can you promise me, right now, that the night king will win?”

“No,” he responded, “we could beat him. I think we will.”

“Then this isn’t the end,” you said, kneeling in front of Bran’s wheelchair, “I love you, Brandon Stark, I really do, I have since we were children, but I can’t spend my life waiting for you to be able to love me back. I don’t know what being the three eyed raven means for you, what you’re capable of doing, of being, but I know that, if I stay here, I’m condemning myself to a life of hoping for a future that may never even be possible.”

Tears welled up in Bran’s eyes, pouring over his cheeks like liquid diamonds. He squeezed your hand tight, swiping his thumb across your fingers, just like he’d done that night next to the fire.

“Y/N I-”

“Shh,” you said, through your own tears, “I need to say this. I deserve to be happy. I deserve love, and peace and comfort and a man who wants to be with me-”

“I want to be with you,” Bran interrupted, “but I can’t give you a family, I could never be a true husband, I-”

“I don’t need children, Bran,” you continued, “what I need is a partnership. I need you to be as committed to me as you are to being the three eyed raven and you can’t do that, not now at least.” You explained. You paused, willing him to contradict you, but he didn’t. You sighed inwardly but pressed on, “I need to leave. I need to find out who I am without you but, if we survive, if somehow we defeat the night king and Cersei and whatever else comes up, and find a way to live in peace...if that happens and you still love me, if that happens and you can be the man I think you still are, come and find me. I’ll be in Highgarden with my family.”

“What if you’re in love with someone else?” Bran asked quietly.

For the first time you openly traced his face with your eyes, every dip and curve, committing each to memory, as though this was the last time you would ever see them and, slowly, you leant in and pressed your lips to Bran’s. The kiss was sweet and chaste, and filled you with something that felt like sunlight and tasted like spring and you thought, maybe, this could be enough.

“I won’t be,” You promised when you broke apart.

Bran looked at you with wonder, his dark eyes heavy with love and loss and pain, but also acceptance. He brought your hand to his lips and kissed your fingers.

“Promise me you’ll be safe,” he eventually said, “so that I can find you when this is over.”

“I promise.”

Bran nodded and cupped your face with his hand, “I love you Y/N Y/L/N, I always will.”

You smiled sadly and stood, letting his hand fall back into his lap, “I love you too. Good luck.”

“I’ll come back for you someday, Y/N. I swear it by the old gods and the new.”

----------------

The days were shorter now, and snow had begun to fall in Highgarden, carpeting the grounds in white as you strolled through the garden. Your family had a new liege lord apparently, Ser Bron, and, according to your father, you had a new king too. You had been home for a few months now and, while the memories of Bran had stopped aching, he was never far from your mind. It had been horrible at first. You’d wept yourself to sleep for weeks, cursing yourself for leaving, cursing him for staying, cursing the gods for making both necessary. Now, though, things were better. The kingdom was finally at peace, the night king was gone and life had regained a tenuous feeling of normality. You were yourself again, without fear or pain for the first time in years and it felt…...right.  

King Brandon, first of his name. You smiled to yourself, it was still so strange to think about. He would be a good king, moderate and calculated, with no desire for power and a real connection with the people of the seven (you mean six) kingdoms. Your heart still ached for him, but you knew you’d made the right decision in the end. If everything really was connected, then your leaving had to happen and, if you could go back, you would do it all again.

Somewhere nearby, a raven croaked, familiar and calming, and the sound of an opening door and footsteps caught your ear.

“Y/N, come inside!” Your father called.

You frowned but followed his instructions, shrugging off your thick cloak and brushing the snow from your hair as you made your way to the main hall.

“Father?” you questioned, “Father, what is it? Is something the matter? I heard the door open, is someone here?”

“Just an old friend,” a familiar voice answered from behind you.

Your heart stopped and, for a long moment, you were too afraid to turn around, in case there was nothing there and you’d simply imagined it all but, eventually you turned, and let out a sound that was halfway between a whimper and a sob. Without a second thought you threw yourself at Bran, collapsing onto your knees ad wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him close.

He laughed gently into your ear and hugged you back, burying his face in your hair, his lips just barely brushing the skin of your neck.

“You came,” you laugh-cried, “you really came.”

“Of course I did,” he responded fondly, “I promised you I would.”

You smiled as you pulled away from the hug, wiping the tears of happiness from your cheeks and standing.

“Where are my manners?” you said jokingly, dipping into a deep curtsey, “Your Grace.”

Bran snorted and smirked back at you, more relaxed and happy than you’d seen him in years.

“I’m still not used to that,” he admitted, “I don’t know if I’ll ever be used to that.”

“You will,” you assured him, “after all, you are the king.”

Bran looked up at you and, for the first time, he looked unsure.

“Could you love a king?” he asked and, at that moment, you realised what he was asking.

Could you love me like this? Could you love a man who’s married to the realm? Could you love a man who would make you queen, but never give you children? Who hurt you and neglected you out of fear? Who let you walk away? Could you love me? You heard him and you smiled.

“Yes,” you answered honestly, “Yes, I rather think I could.”

[canonconspiracy]

Reek (1&2)

Fandom: Game Of Thrones

Pairing: Theon Greyjoy x Reader

Warnings: Clues to Rape and Abuse, but nothing graphically written pertaining to either.

Written By: @rmorningstar21

Cross Published on here and Wattpad (@rmorningstar21). On Wattpad, I have this in two separate parts.

AN: The escape may be a little less than accurate, and I apologize for that. A little fluff at the end, but mostly angst.

____________

It had been weeks since Ramsay had taken Winterfell, and with Winterfell, he had taken you as a lowly servant.  You had been unfortunate enough to be helping take care of Bran when the siege took place, and were grateful that Hodor had gotten out with Bran, though you were not nearly as lucky.  From that point on, you had become a multiple purpose slave for Ramsay, as a maid sometimes, someone to take out his anger upon, as well as someone he would have his way with when he was feeling up to angry sex.  

It had never been mutual, and typically landed you with a great deal of damage to your genitalia, leaving you a crying, bruised and broken mess.  Your only relief during your days was the occasional visit in the barn you would get from Reek, where you would be ordered to fix up the wounds that Ramsay had given him.  Though Ramsay could have just allowed him to bleed out, that would have been a great deal less fun for him. Reek was his entertainment, and his revenge.  

Reek was once the stunning, valiant, and flirtatious Theon Greyjoy, and each time you came to his aid, you stared at the face of the broken man.  Tonight, you were trying to be as gentle as possible, knowing that Ramsay had beaten Reek far worse than usual. The tears that you could see staining his beaten face merely confirmed the awful chorus of screams you had listened to prior.  

Your hands shook slightly as you brought the warm cloth to his face, gently dabbing at the bloodied spot upon his cheek.  Reek shrank away from your touch, causing you to grimace, before attempting once again to dab the wound. "I'm not gonna hurt ya," you whispered gently, "I love you too much.  I just want to ease the pain."  

The broken Greyjoy seemed to respond to your words, allowing you to dab at his wound as gently as you possible could, while his eyes turned towards you.  You were able to catch a glimpse into the broken blue eyes, seeing maybe a small touch of Theon still hidden behind the immense abuse that he had sustained over time from Ramsay.  

You had not lied when you said that you loved Theon, either.  The two of you had grown up together under the care of Lord and Lady Stark, though neither of you were looked fondly upon by Lady Stark.  Catelyn had found it a bit much that Ned had taken both of you as the Stark's wards, especially since you had been brought home at the same time that Jon Snow entered the picture.  

You grew closer and closer to Theon, though you strayed further as he begun seeing the whore that he paid to bed.  You did not comprehend why the young, handsome Theon Greyjoy would always bed a whore, when you thought you had made your advances rather obvious.  Though he was oblivious, he had his own reasons, and you felt that you had to accept it.  

After a while of dabbing at his wounds and stitching what was necessary with a threaded needle, occasionally hearing a whimper escape his lips, you watched in shock as his bloodied lips formed your name.  At first, it was a silent speech, as if the slave was silently screaming for aid, though no matter how silent it was, it had brought your attention to the lips that you planned to clean last. Your gaze studied the broken man's features, showing him that he had your attention.  

"Y/N," he whispered, barely above a whisper.  The damaged man's voice crumbled as he spoke, though it still tugged your heart strings to hear him speak a word to you.  Over the weeks of tending to his wounds, this had been the first time he had any recollection to you at all.  

Feeling a shaky hand reach to cup your cheek, you felt as if you may break down in tears right there.  His hand was warm, despite his condition, and you softly nuzzled into it, though you made with haste to get his wounds taken care of.  Never had Ramsey allowed you enough time to care for "Reek" anyhow, and you knew the tyrant would enter simply to hinder your care for him.  

"Theon," you murmured out, a whisper nearly inaudible, but just enough that he would be able to hear you.  Through his pain, he managed to give you the lightest smile, as if he were fighting to do so despite his condition.  "I need to get you out of here." 

"The Wall," he said, struggling to form each word, as if he were battling the abused form that had become of him to speak each one.  "We will be safe there, with Jon." Each word he spoke was hushed, thank the old and new gods for it, since you would not want to know what could possibly happen if Ramsay were to overhear.  

"In a fortnight I will come to your chambers and we will make our escape," you whispered in return, placing a gentle kiss upon his forehead before turning to leave.  "Be ready." With that, you made your way with haste back to report to the cruel man you served, making sure he was to know that you had completed your task.  

What you had not heard as you walked out of Reek's cell was that small bit of the old Theon, holding a broken, hushed tone as he let the words slip from his mouth for the first time.  He may have assumed that you would not hear him regardless, but he felt the need to say them as he watched your broken figure walk away from him. The two of you were in rough shape, counting the days that either of you would be able to withstand the barbarous treatment from Ramsay Bolton.  He hoped to the old gods and new that you were right - that the two of you could escape the callous treatment you received.  

His mouth uttered the words in a way that they fell with care from his shaken mouth, saying, "I love you, Y/N," paired with Reek's stutter.  Something about his recollection of you had brought some of Theon to the forefront of his mind, attempting to stash away the Reek that Ramsay Bolton had created of him.  

***

The fortnight from your prior meeting with Reek was upon you, and you had courted Lady Sansa into your escape as well.  You were to retrieve Theon from his cell and meet Sansa at the wall close to the entrance of Winterfell, where the three of you would have to scale the wall and make your escape into the nearby trees.  With enough running towards the North, the three of you would be able to reach the Wall, Sansa reunited with her half brother, and the two of you seeking shelter in the wall until you knew what the two of you would do from there.  

You knew as well as he would have that Jon would not be fond of Theon after everything that had happened before the siege.  Theon had gotten too big for his name and created falsities that were unforgivable to most, especially for the Starks. Tonight, your main objective was to get yourself, Theon, and Sansa away from the merciless tormentor that you had almost become accustomed to.  

Theon, as Reek, stared at you with wide eyes initially as you walked in, reaching a hand to him.  Meekly, you managed to coax the fractured man to take your hand, before you noticed that he was limping.  Thinking quickly on your feet, you brought your shoulder underneath his arm, helping him to walk without placing pressure upon the leg that was injured.  

With this action, you were able to walk semi quickly from the cell, to the wall to meet Sansa.  No one dared utter a word as the three of you hopped down from the wall, trying to partially scale it.  You could hear from a distance that your ruse was already caught on, and that Ramsay had begun sending the hounds out for the three of you.  Ominous sounds in the malicious chorus of blood seeking hounds filled the chilled air as the three of you made your way out of Winterfell and into the wooded area.  Sansa had the easiest time making it through in the beginning, and was in front of the two of you. You still had to support Theon as the two of you made your way out, which had made you significantly slower than the redhead, but you moved with all your might, taking Theon along the way.  

The three of you made haste in the snow, though the bitter cold nipped at your skin, especially newly felt cuts that Ramsay had riddled your bodies with.  It stung to the point that tears dared well in your eyes, but none of you could look back. Further and further the three of you sought towards the direction of the Wall, freedom seeming to draw closer, yet still be so far from reach.  

One or two hot tears dared to fall from your e/c eyes as you made haste towards the wall, your body beginning to tire already.  It had seemed like Theon was moving faster than you were, but you pushed your body to your limits to keep pace with him. Occasionally, you had stolen glances to see Theon's sad yet determined face, causing you to let your lips curl lightly into a smile.  

His determination seemed to give you more strength, and it was as if the two of you were beginning to catch up with Sansa, when in actuality she had slowed her pace slightly during the escape.  There was no knowing how long the three of you had been traveling by this point, but the duration was wearing on everyone. The chorus of hounds grew close to your group, as did the sight of Castle Black, your destination.  The Wall was within sight, chill and exhaustion eating at the three of you, while Ramsay's hounds were right on your tail.  

Theon tried pushing you off of him, saying, "You will get there without me," in a broken tone.  It could have truly torn your heart to pieces, and you knew what he was thinking. He would not be accepted at Castle Black by Jon.  Both of you were already more than aware of what he had done, and the pentance that he likely would need to pay just to get into Castle Black's safety, but you did not plan on leaving him behind.  

You tightened your grip around him, shaking your head.  "You are coming with, Theon," you said in an affirmative tone.  Sansa had agreed with other words, and yet you barely even heard her.  Your attention was purely focused on Theon by this point, and you were determined to get him to safety, even if it would be temporary. 

"Y/N…" he attempted to counter, while he watched you shake your head once more.  

"No, Theon," you said firmly.  "I don't care if you don't love me as well. I refuse to let any more harm come to you again.  It may take some time, but Jon will understand. If he doesn't, I will find another place to keep you safe." 

Through your words, you were blind to the solidity that your walls had been broken down, tears onset in waterfalls down your cheeks.  It had only been when his free arm reached to your face, using his thumb to remove the tears that he could from your cheeks that you were made aware of it.  Unwittingly, you had nuzzled into his hand as he did so, causing him to allow his lips to turn upward the slightest bit.  

"We need to go, now," Sansa stated, fear laced in her voice as she brought attention to the hounds drawing even more near the three of you.  

All the same, your moment had been cut short, and Theon had simply nodded, the three of you making your way through the openness to Castle Black.  Even with it in sight, it was a long and precarious journey from the woods to Castle Black itself, and through the way Theon and yourself were especially struggling to make it to your destination.  The two of you were trailing behind Sansa, chills continually shifting down your spine as you made your way with him.  

The three of you had finally made your way to the front, greeted not by anything initially despite the large drawn door opening, followed by it shutting behind the three of you.  Catching your breaths, Sansa was the first to be recognized by Jon himself, and the two of you watched with panted breaths as the two of them shared a long, wonderous embrace. If you were to get yourself caught in the moment, you would have allowed a smile to stretch brightly against your skin, seeing their happy reunion, though you knew it was not time for rejoicing quite yet.  

Jon's eyes glowered as they met the two of you, though the look was mostly towards Theon Greyjoy, the one whom had disgraced the Starks and denounced them with the lies that he had spread for fear.  You let go of Theon to allow him to stand in his own solidarity, though you conceded into a look of sympathy, your heart tied in knots at the scene before you.  

"You brought a traitor into Castle Black," Jon spat out, venom laced in each word.  

Theon bowed before Jon, as if for a moment he was once again Reek, waiting for his punishment.  Jon was in fact not Ramsay, though, and would not lay a hand that was undeserving upon Theon. Sansa was the one to grab her brother's arm initially, and pled her side of Theon's case before anyone else was able to utter a word.  

Much to your relief, Jon's expression had seemed to change from Sansa's words, and you allowed yourself to release a breath that you were unaware you were holding.  "I want to apologize for all my misgivings, Snow," Theon said submissively, his eyes meeting Jon once again.  

"Bran is alive, from what I last saw of him, Jon," you said, barely above a whisper.  You dared not speak at a normal tone. "He was accompanied by Hodor." 

Jon smiled lightly at you, acknowledging you with a simple nod.  "The two of you may stay until other arrangements can be made," Jon had declared, before ordering one of the men to set up a chamber for the two of you.  Since they had not had a copious amount of room, you had assumed, that was why it was simply one chamber being altered for the two of your stay.  

With his last words, Jon had disappeared in his office area with Sansa, expectedly to catch up with his lost half sister.  The two of you were left alone near the entrance of Castle Black, seemingly warmer than you were in the wind, though the cold temperatures still nipped upon your skin.  Your eyes had shifted to Theon, where you saw there was still a hint of shock inside of those blue eyes, and the brokenness still had yet to dissipate from the hell that Reek had provided.  

After a few minutes, what you had presumed was Castle Black's Maester had appeared, hushing the both of you into his study.  The old man had started with you, since you had been far more injured than Theon. It was not because of Ramsay's sheer hatred taken out upon you, though, and instead was the fact that Ramsay had never had someone tend to your wounds.  Even with your knowledge of needle work and first aid, you were unable to perform the majority of it upon yourself.  

"If you would be more comfortable, my lady, this could be in private," Maester Aemon as you had learned, had said to you in his almost sickening tone.  You knew precisely what he was referring to, as he would need to check you out fully, and you in turn shook your head. It felt as if tears were going to once again descend down your face as he lifted your dress to see the damage that Ramsay had done to your nether regions.  

The maester's lips turned to a frown as he examined your pelvic area, and did the little that he possibly could to fix you up.  "I regretfully inform you that you may be barren, my Lady," he mused out as he placed your dress back down, covering you once more.  You simply nodded, unable to formulate words for the news you had received. 

He had moved to work upon Theon next, and was shocked to see the torment that Ramsay had truly done to him.  Thankfully any stitching up and cleaning did not take longer than it took to get your chamber situated, and the two of you were led to the chambers that you would be staying in for the duration of your time at Castle Black.  Once the two of you were alone, Theon managed to catch your attention, grabbing your wrist gently to make you turn towards him.  

You bit your lip gently as your gaze met Theon's, taking in each bruise and scar that was exposed on his upper body.  Ramsay had truly broken the man in front of you, and all you wanted to do was lay with him in your arms, comforting him.  "Theon," you mused out softly, after what was longer than an uncomfortable time of silence, unable to even form the words you wished to say to him.  

"Y/N," he said gently, straightening his posture out as best as he could.  His eyes reflected the seriousness that he was attempting to convey, though his mentally and physically fractured features made it difficult.  "I'm so sorry…" 

You shook your head, trying to plaster a smile upon your own face.  "We're both alive, Sansa's alive, and we're safe," you assured him gently.  "We're free, after all." 

Despite the plastered smile upon your face, tears did threaten to spill from your eyes.  Neither of you would be able to have children, you barren, and him without the tools for the task either.  Both of your bloodlines would end with the two of you, but you did not wish to dwell upon it for his sake. What you had not expected was that he brought you into his arms tightly, resting his forehead in the crook of your neck as he held you.  

The warmth around you was incredible, as if you had stepped beside a fire, though you presumed he was as cold as you were prior.  You wrapped your arms into him in return, holding him closely. "I want you to know, I love you, too, Y/N," he whispered gently, his voice breaking as he did so, but you felt as if your heart may have stopped the moment you heard it.  

The two of you separated just enough to stare into one another's eyes.  Meekly, the two of you slowly closed the gap between your lips, as if the two of you were too scared of one another's reaction to meet quickly.  Your lips moved cautiously at first, treating him as a glass that could easily shatter with the wrong move. As the two of you continued, though, your feelings seemed to ooze through the kiss, passion and love reflecting on either side.  

When the two of you separated for air, both panting at the lack that both of you had allowed yourselves to receive, you motioned to the bed.  "Will you lie with me, then, Theon?" 

For a moment, his mind did not process what you meant, and thought that you meant more, causing you to sadly chuckle.  "You're likely as exhausted as I, and I wish to fall asleep in your arms," you clarified, giving him a genuine smile.  

He nodded, delicately separating from you and joining you upon the cot.  Theon lied on his back, beaconing you to lie your head upon his chest. You were cautious at first, hoping not to harm the man, but did as you were motioned, feeling his arms wrap around you protectively.  "I have always loved you," he murmured softly to you, holding you closely.  

You smiled in return, cuddling closer to him.  "And I have always loved you, Theon," you whispered to him in return.  It did not take long for either of you to fall into slumber, comfortably resting in the comfort of one another.  Though you may never bare children for him, he would never be able to spill his seed, and the two of you would simply need to love one another in any way you would ever love.  That was the most comforting thing that either of you could do.  

[sowthetide]

Chapter 47: The End

As the thrumming in her ears faded, Quen could make out Meera’s soft cries and the savage sound of Shaggydog’s jaws as they tore flesh from bone. Neither noise stirred her. Snow continued to fall, but for once, she hardly felt the cold.

[galadrieljones]

Game of thrones? :)

Thnks, love!! Tbh I’m not caught up past “The Long Night” so keep that in mind. Even though I’ve been spoiled on some stuff I’ll pretend I haven’t. 

the first character i ever fell in love with:

Arya. For obvious reasons. She was young, tough, and compelling from the get-go.

a character that i used to love/like, but now do not:

Daenerys. Sorry, maybe? I used to think she was so cool, the Dragon Queen, freeing slaves and marching around the world like a true force of nature. But over time, her character fell increasingly flat. The dragon thing became less and less interesting. By now, her hubris grates on me to an intense degree. Plus, she was mean and uppity to Sansa in Sansa’s own house. I just…can’t abide by that.

a ship that i used to love/like, but now do not:

Arya x Gendry. I personally found their sex scene to be gratuitous. 

my ultimate favorite character™:

Sansa Stark. She’s really the only main character who has never acted selfishly or out of hubris. She’s by far the most compelling Stark. Her story is nuanced and deeply feminine. I appreciate her as a heroine who doesn’t have to act like a “hero” to be interesting. 

prettiest character:

Queen Margeary. Ugh. So pretty. BEST dresses. 

my most hated character:

Joffrey, dude. Who else?

my OTP:

Idk if i really have one. I have lots of platonic OTPs, like Arya and the Hound and Brienne and Jaime. Yes, I’m aware of certain…developments between them, but I like them as comrades, not lovers. I also like Jaime and Bronn and Sansa and Theon (platonically). I guess if I had to have a TRUE OTP, I’d pick Sam and Gilly? Tbh this show doesn’t have many other…healthy “true” love stories, imho. 

my NOTP:

Jon and Daenerys. I think the actors have shitty chemistry and mostly that’s why.

favorite episode:

“The Door.” I cried…a lot at the end of “The Door.” I still think about it and how compelling it was and how that ending was TOTALLY unexpected and yet entirely earned.

saddest death:

Hodor. ;_;

favorite season:

Idk. The season where Arya is in Harrenhal and pretending to be a boy and hanging out with Tywin Lannister. Those are *maybe* the greatest scenes in the entire show.

least favorite season:

Pretty much season 8 so far. I also disliked that season with the “Sand Snakes.” Whatever that was.

character that everyone else in the fandom loves, but i hate:

I have no idea what the GoT fandom is like?

my ‘you’re piece of trash, but you’re still a fave’ fave:

Idk?

my ‘beautiful cinnamon roll who deserves better than this’ fave:

Sansa.

my ‘this ship is wrong, nasty, and makes me want to cleanse my soul, but i still love it’ ship:

I mean, idk I sort of like Jaime x Cersei. It’s desperately romantic in some very fucked up and believable ways. It helps that they’re both played by tremendous actors.

my ‘they’re kind of cute, and i lowkey ship them, but i’m not too invested’ ship:

Daenerys x Jorah Mormont. I…really love his arc. And his end. ;_;

Send me a fandom!

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

AGOT: Bran VI (Chapter 53)

Lord Rickard himself led them, his sons Harrion and Eddard and Torrhen riding beside him beneath night-black banners emblazoned with the white sunburst of their House. Old Nan said they had Stark blood in them, going back hundreds of years, but they did not look like Starks to Bran. They were big men, and fierce, faces covered with thick beards, hair worn loose past the shoulders. Their cloaks were made of skins, the pelts of bear and seal and wolf.    

Must be the male line, because Alys Karstark is described as looking similar to Arya.

Starks are smol beans, confirmed.

+.+

Only two days ago one of Lord Bolton's men knifed one of Lord Cerwyn's at the Smoking Log.

Oh look, a Bolton man knifing an ally.

+.+

"Don't act the boy with me, Bran," Robb said.

(...)

He was using the voice of Robb the Lord when he said it; Bran knew that meant there was no appeal.    

The dichotomy between man and boy is a persistent theme with all male Starklings.

+.+

"Twelve thousand men, or near enough as makes no matter."

(...)

"He must march soon, or not at all," Maester Luwin said. "The winter town is full to bursting, and this army of his will eat the countryside clean if it camps here much longer.

Tell me again how on top of all their own people, Winterfell will host three dragons, eight thousand Unsullied, and every man from every khalasar during winter.

Almost like that was bullshit.

+.+

The only tricky part was doors. Sometimes Hodor forgot that he had Bran on his back, and that could be painful when he went through a door.     

I know what this is referring to, but I’m not sure how.

+.+

His baby brother had been wild as a winter storm since he learned Robb was riding off to war, weeping and angry by turns. He'd refused to eat, cried and screamed for most of a night, even punched Old Nan when she tried to sing him to sleep, and the next day he'd vanished. Robb had set half the castle searching for him, and when at last they'd found him down in the crypts, Rickon had slashed at them with a rusted iron sword he'd snatched from a dead king's hand, and Shaggydog had come slavering out of the darkness like a green-eyed demon. The wolf was near as wild as Rickon; he'd bitten Gage on the arm and torn a chunk of flesh from Mikken's thigh. It had taken Robb himself and Grey Wind to bring him to bay. Farlen had the black wolf chained up in the kennels now, and Rickon cried all the more for being without him.    

Noo the baby. :(

But also, clues?? Rickon vanished, half the castle searching for him, and when they found him he was in the... crypts? No, I don’t like that.

BUT he’s also fighting with a king’s sword, aided by his demon direwolf?

Man, I don’t know! I’m going to ask the audience.

+.+

Stout, grey-haired Maege Mormont, dressed in mail like a man, told Robb bluntly that he was young enough to be her grandson, and had no business giving her commands … but as it happened, she had a granddaughter she would be willing to have him marry.

x

Lord Cerwyn means to take his daughter south with us. To cook for him, he says. Theon is certain I'll find the girl in my bedroll one night.

Want to know how I know something was terribly off about Jon and Sansa’s storyline on the show? While attempting to secure allies for two separate wars, at no point did anyone petition for marriage.

+.+

"She says Father conspired at treason with the king's brothers," he read. "King Robert is dead, and Mother and I are summoned to the Red Keep to swear fealty to Joffrey. She says we must be loyal, and when she marries Joffrey she will plead with him to spare our lord father's life." His fingers closed into a fist, crushing Sansa's letter between them. "And she says nothing of Arya, nothing, not so much as a word. Damn her! What's wrong with the girl?"                 

Bran felt all cold inside. "She lost her wolf," he said, weakly, remembering the day when four of his father's guardsmen had returned from the south with Lady's bones. Summer and Grey Wind and Shaggydog had begun to howl before they crossed the drawbridge, in voices drawn and desolate. Beneath the shadow of the First Keep was an ancient lichyard, its headstones spotted with pale lichen, where the old Kings of Winter had laid their faithful servants. It was there they buried Lady, while her brothers stalked between the graves like restless shadows.

Robb, you’re a bright young man, surely you could figure out if your father is imprisoned, your sister is not the one composing these letters. Not your best moment.

She lost her wolf. :(

+.+

She had gone south, and only her bones had returned.

People loved to use this as a predictor for Sansa’s future. How could they not see it’s screaming Lyanna?

+.+

A faint wind sighed through the godswood and the red leaves stirred and whispered. Summer bared his teeth. "You hear them, boy?" a voice asked.    

(...)

"No, stay," Bran commanded her. "Tell me what you meant, about hearing the gods."                 

Osha studied him. "You asked them and they're answering. Open your ears, listen, you'll hear."

Is it the Old Gods or is it something else?

Brandon the Builder sought the aid of the children while raising the Wall. He was taken to a secret place to meet with them, but could not at first understand their speech, which was described as sounding like the song of stones in a brook, or the wind through leaves, or the rain upon the water. - TWoIaF

+.+

Maester Luwin sighed. "I can teach you history, healing, herblore. I can teach you the speech of ravens, and how to build a castle, and the way a sailor steers his ship by the stars. I can teach you to measure the days and mark the seasons, and at the Citadel in Oldtown they can teach you a thousand things more. But, Bran, no man can teach you magic."    

Wait a minute. WAIT A MINUTE. I think he did it again!

I can teach you the speech of ravens -> Bran

How to build a castle -> Jon

The way a sailor steers his ship by the stars -> Arya

No Sansa or Rickon, but have no fear, Maester Luwin is unable to teach Bran how to be a Queen or High Septon. Like the Maiden & Warrior, sometimes a kid or two is missing.

JON THE BUILDER. 🤩

+.+

Beyond the castle walls, a roar of sound went up. The foot soldiers and townsfolk were cheering Robb as he rode past, Bran knew; cheering for Lord Stark, for the Lord of Winterfell on his great stallion, with his cloak streaming and Grey Wind racing beside him. They would never cheer for him that way, he realized with a dull ache. He might be the lord in Winterfell while his brother and father were gone, but he was still Bran the Broken. He could not even get off his own horse, except to fall.    

How could you possibly read his point of view, and passages like the one above, and come away with the opinion that two Targaryens and a pretend one are the key to saving the world? This fandom is tragic.

+.+

"Hodor?" he said sadly.                 

"Hodor," Bran agreed, wondering what it meant.

Final thoughts:

On a re-read it’s almost laughable how obvious it is Robb is marching to his death.

-> return to menu <-

[mylittlefandomfanfictions]

Robb Stark - Lady Wolf

Summary: The young wolf and the King in the North, Robb Stark has been away from Winterfell for quite some time. However, his mind kept wandering back to the castle and to his brothers and to one very special lady. The girl they called his lady wolf. He wonders if they will ever be reunited. One day, his prayers are answered and he is reunited with his lady wolf.

Pairing: Robb x Fem!Reader

Characters: Fem!Reader, Robb Stark, Grey Wind, Edmure Tully, Catelyn Stark. Bran Stark, Rickon Stark, Ned Stark, Jon Snow, Sansa Stark, Arya Stark, Theon Greyjoy (Mentioned). Jamie Lannister, Osha, Hodor (Briefly mentioned)

Warnings: Mentions of death, fluff

A/N: So, I’ve been crushing on Robb Stark/Richard Madden recently and when this idea came to me, I just had to write it.

A/N/N: A huge thank you to @mo320 and @pollaluci for being my wonderful betas for this. Another thank you is in order for @mo320 for helping me with the title.

Leaving Winterfell had been one of the hardest things Robb had ever had to do. Not only was he leaving his home, the place that he had grown up in, he was also leaving behind his brothers, Bran and Rickon. There was also one other person he was leaving behind, his best friend and the person he had been in love with since he was a boy, Y/N. It had broken his heart to say goodbye, neither of them knew if they would ever see each other again.

That had been a long time ago, he hasn’t stepped foot in Winterfell for what felt like years. His father was dead and now he thought his brothers were dead too. Possibly even his darling Y/N thanks to Theon Greyjoy, a man he had loved and trusted like a brother.

He had learned that Theon had betrayed him and taken over Winterfell. He would never be able to forgive him for that. He had put all of that anger into winning this war. He had to win for the sake of his remaining family. Then and only then could he take back Winterfell from Theon. He wanted nothing more than to win this for his family and the North so they could return to Winterfell and be together again. Maybe he could even convince his mother to allow Jon to come back, or at least allow him to visit.

Robb was walking through the muddy field where he and his men had set up camp. Grey Wind was right by his side. He was making sure everyone was well rested and fed. He was stopped in his tracks by his uncle Edmure approaching him on his horse. He had hold of the reins of Robb’s own horse.

“Lord Stark, you have a visitor,” Edmure told his nephew. He waited for Robb to get on his horse before they set off in a trot towards Robb’s tent. Robb’s wolf was walking right alongside them. Edmure was sure that the wolf never left the young mans side.

“Who is the visitor?” Robb asked as they rode.

“I’m afraid I do not know. Your mother sent me to fetch you,” Edmure replied.

When they got to the tent, Robb climbed off the horse and landed on his feet with all the grace of a wolf. “Thank you, uncle Edmure,” he said with a gracious smile. Edmure gave him a curt nod before riding off. Grey Wind nuzzled at his hand with his snout and he smiled down at the direwolf before scratching him on the top of his furry head. “Let’s go see who this visitor is shall we?” he asked. Grey Wind obediently followed him inside the tent where he found his mother and someone else who had their back to him, a hood covering their head. “Mother, I hear I have a visitor.”

“You do, son. I think you will be very happy to see her,” Catelyn smiled, her eyes briefly going to Robb’s visitor.

You had traveled a long way from Winterfell to Robb’s location. You had fled in the night after Theon took over. Winterfell was no longer your home without the Starks. During your many nights in inns, you had heard that Theon was looking for you. He had already killed Bran and Rickon, or so you’d heard. Now he was looking for you. You knew why he was looking for you. He wanted to take you as his wife. He knew that it would distract Robb from the war, that his attention would shift back to home. If Robb’s attention was on his home instead of the war, he would be killed.

You had found Robb’s camp after overhearing two men in an inn talk about the King in the North setting up camp a few miles away and you also heard that he’d caught the Kingslayer, Jamie Lannister. A burst of pride had shot through you upon hearing of Jamie’s captivity. You had left immediately and gotten on your horse. You had been turned away by the guards, but you had refused to leave until you saw Robb. You told them you were from Winterfell, but they just laughed. If Catelyn hadn’t walked past when she did, if she hadn’t overheard the conversation and recognized you, you would’ve had no choice but to leave.

You smiled at Catelyn and removed your hood before turning to face Robb. A smile still etched onto your face as your eyes met his blue ones. “Hello, Lord Stark, it’s been a while,” you said with a smile and a curtsey.

Robb’s eyes went wide when he saw Y/N. He never thought he would see her again. “Y/N,” he gasped before taking a few quick and fast steps towards her. He pulled her into a tight hug as he fought back the happy tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes. “I thought you were dead,” he whispered into her ear as they held each other as though their lives depended on it.

You chuckled lightly at Robb’s words, a hand went into his dark, curly hair as you hugged him, you always did that when you hugged him. You pulled away and smiled at him. “It will take more than a man like Theon Greyjoy to kill me, Lord Stark.”

“I am glad you’re safe,” Robb smiled. He couldn’t quite believe his eyes, Y/N was really here. She was really standing right in front of him. She looked as beautiful as he remembered. He noticed that her cloak was fastened at her chest with a pin that was the sigil of the Stark house. That pin had been a gift from him on her last name day. “I’ve missed you. I dread to think what horrors you went through at Winterfell when Theon took it,” he said, his voice soft as he gently took her face between his hands, his gloved fingers touching her soft cheeks.

“I ran from Winterfell. Bran and Rickon told me to flee because they wanted me to be safe from Theon, they told me to find you. They were planning on escaping with Osha and Hodor. I should have stayed long enough to know that they were safe, but they insisted I leave. I pray to the Old Gods that they made it out and that they’re not really dead,” you told him, placing your hands over his, tears filling your eyes as you thought of the two young boys. “I am so sorry. I should have stayed in Winterfell. I should have stayed and protected them,” you sniffled as the tears began to fall.

Robb removed the leather gloves from his hands and gently wiped the tears away from her cheeks. “Don’t apologize. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I shall leave you two to talk in private," Catelyn said with a smile.

“That will not be necessary, mother,” Robb said. “Y/N, will you walk with me?” He slipped on his gloves again and offered her his arm.

“Happily, my lord,” you smiled, hooking your arm through his.

“You can call me by my name, Y/N. We have known each other since we were children,” Robb smiled.

“My lady,” you said to Catelyn, giving her a curtsey before you and Robb left the tent. She smiled back at you and Robb.

Grey Wind followed right behind you, the wolf gently nudged your hand to get your attention and you scratched him behind the ear. You had missed the wolf as much as you’d missed Robb.

You and Robb walked arm-in-arm through the camp, chatting as you went. People were looking at you with curious eyes, but you ignored them, all of your attention was on Robb. You were glad to be with him again.

You and Robb stopped at the top of a hill between some trees, Grey Wind sat on his haunches by Robb’s feet. You were quite far from the camp, but not too far that you couldn’t hear the roaring laughter of Robb’s bannermen floating through the air. You looked out over the sprawling fields around you. The cold air was blowing through the air making the leaves and the grass dance.

“I’m sorry about your father,” you said softly, breaking the silence. You removed your arm from Robb’s and fiddled with the material of your cloak with gloved fingers. “He was a great man and did not deserve to die the way he did,” you added in an apologetic tone.

“Thank you,” Robb replied.

“He would have been proud of you,” you smiled. “He would’ve been proud of the man you have become.”

Robb felt his cheeks flush and a smile spread across his face at the compliment. His father truly had raised him well. “You know, my father really liked you. I would stand on the walkway and watch you chat with Sansa, Arya, and Jon or play games with Bran and Rickon in the courtyard below. I'd even watch you in the stables when you would spar with Jon and Arya. Father would come to me and tell me to stop watching you and go talk to you instead. He even called you my lady wolf,” he confessed with a nervous chuckle. He combed a hand through his hair. “When you and I would walk through the courtyard arm-in-arm while chatting and laughing, or when we would spar with those silly wooden swords or when I would teach you how to shoot a bow and arrow, I would often find him watching us from the walkway, he would have a smile on his face. Whenever we weren’t together, he would say ‘where’s your lady wolf, son?’ Then he would laugh and clap me on the shoulder when I got flustered. Jon often joined in with the teasing too.”

You chuckled and nodded, that definitely sounded like something Ned and Jon would do. “I never told you, but whenever your father would see me, he would greet me as lady wolf. I remember once that I asked him why he was calling me that and he simply smiled and said ‘people call Robb the young wolf, you’re always with him. It seems fitting that I and everyone else call you lady wolf’ and then he bowed his head and left.” You smiled and laughed a little, more out of nerves about what you were about to say. “He was very intuitive, he always knew how I felt for you.”

“And he always knew how I felt for you,” Robb added. “I don’t want to ruin the moment, but did Theon harm you in any way? You said that Bran and Rickon told you to run so you were safe from him. What did he do to you?” he asked, turning his full body to face her and taking her hands in his. “I will kill him if he hurt you. I swear to the Old Gods,” he said once she turned to face him.

“Theon wanted…” you hesitated. You didn’t quite know how to put it into words and you didn’t know how Robb was going to react. “Theon wanted me,” you said after what felt like an eternity of silence.

“He wanted you? Why?” Robb asked. He clenched his jaw. Theon knew Robb loved Y/N, he’d always known. He contained his anger for the moment.

“He wanted me as a wife,” you scoffed. It sounded ridiculous to say it. “In all honesty, I don’t think he really wanted me, not truly. I believe he only said that he wanted me to get to you. He knew that once word had reached you that he had taken me as a wife, that your focus would shift to Winterfell and that you would be so distracted during battle that you would probably be killed,” you said. “I couldn’t allow that to happen. Not to you. That was when Bran and Rickon told me to leave. They knew Theon would do whatever he had to do to gain power.” You blinked away your tears and looked down at the ground.

Robb placed a finger under Y/N’s chin and tilted her head up to face him. “Please, do not blame yourself. Bran and Rickon loved you like a sister. They would be happy that you’re safe,” he reassured her. “Never blame yourself. Grieve for them as I have grieved for them, but do not ever blame yourself. Their murders lie at Theon’s feet, not yours.”

“You certainly have a way with words, Lord Stark,” you smiled.

“I get it from my father,” Robb smiled. “I am fighting this war for my brothers, for my father, for my mother, for my sisters, for the North and for you, my lady,” he told her.

“And I believe you will win. You have so many great and loyal men on your side.” You let out a gentle sigh as Robb held your hands in his and you looked at the trees and fields for a moment before turning back to him. His blue eyes connected with yours and he had a soft, beautiful smile on his face. It was a smile you had fallen in love with a very long time ago. “I should leave soon. I can’t risk Theon finding me,” you said sorrowfully. You didn’t want to leave.

Robb’s face dropped. “No, stay here with me. Please. I’ve just got you back and I will not let you go again. I will not let anything happen to you, I give you my word. I cannot lose you again.”

How could you say no to Robb? How could you leave him now after finally being reunited? “I shall stay,” you replied.

“I will be glad to have you by my side,” Robb said. Grey Wind nudged the back of his legs, pushing him slightly closer to Y/N, that made her giggle. That one sound made his heart swell in his chest and brought a bright smile to his face.

“I think he’s trying to tell you something,” you chuckled.

“I think he is,” Robb agreed with a smile. “Y/N, I have loved you for the longest time and I cannot stand the thought of losing you again. I would like for you to stay by my side and truly become the lady wolf. Please, stand by my side.”

You gently removed one hand from Robb’s and touched his cheek. “I have loved you since childhood. I shall stand by your side, my lord. Now and always.”

Robb cupped her chin in his fingers with one hand and laced his fingers with her other hand that he was still holding. “It will be a pleasure to have you by my side, lady wolf,” he smiled.

“Nothing would make me happier than staying with you.”

Robb grinned widely and she grinned back at him. Grey Wind nudged their interlocked fingers with his nose and cocked his head to the side as he looked up at them. That made them both laugh a little. “My lady, may I finally kiss the girl of my dreams?”

“The King in the North asks for permission to kiss a lady. I like that. You have my permission to kiss me whenever you would like. From this day forth,” you replied.

Robb smiled as she said that. He leaned forward and sealed their lips together, his fingers moving from her chin to her cheek. He reluctantly pulled away when they needed to take a breath and rested his forehead on hers, both of them enjoying the intimate moment. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

Robb’s eyes searched hers as he admired her for all that she was. He had a strong, beautiful lady by his side and he swore by the Old Gods that he would love, cherish, and protect her from this day until his last day.

Thoughts?

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