was having some robb stark thoughts last night trying to fall asleep… sigh

you and robb usually rise in the mornings at the same time. queen & king in the north, you have duties to attend to that force you both out of bed earlier than you’d like. but sometimes, robb has to be up before you.

his weight dips down on the bed as he sits beside your sleeping form, fully clothed & ready to leave. he wants to let you sleep, knows you need your rest—but you’d kill him if he left without waking you up to say goodbye.

his hand comes to tuck your hair behind your ears, soft murmurs of your name rousing you from sleeps hold. he pulls his hand back as you open your eyes, both of you smiling at the sight of the other. you reach out, still half asleep, hand finding robb’s. he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it as you look up at him—love etched in your pupils. you pull him closer, & robb chuckles at your neediness, voice warm & dripping like honey. he leans in, pressing chaste kisses to anywhere he can reach. he starts at your cheek, trailing down to your jaw and eventually your neck. each kiss grounds you firmer and firmer to the present, pulling you out from the hazy state sleep puts you in.

he eventually stops, resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. he closes his eyes, soaking up your presence before he has to become king in the north. right now he’s just robb, the man you grew up with at winterfell. your hand comes to run through his curls, as your other thumb massages lightly at his temple. he relaxes further into your touch, a groan rising from deep in his chest. robb’s body had been wound up tight during his time at war, as to be expected. the weight of his burdens sit heavy on his shoulders, long days of fighting not only lannister armies, but sometimes his own men—clouding his mind with headaches that only you seem to be able to relieve in the slightest.

“keep doin’ that and I won’t be able to get back up.”

he’s only teasing (he’s completely serious), making you laugh as you retract your thumb from his temple. his eyes flutter open, sighing at his own stupidity, wondering how he could ever ask you to stop making him feel good. his mind takes over, reminding him of his duties. if he doesn’t get up now, he surely won’t be making it out of this tent by high noon. he can already hear greywind rustling from his guard outside the entrance of the tent, warding off someone’s presence.

he gathers his wits, trailing kisses back up your neck. once he gets to your cheek, he even teases by placing a kiss at the corner of your mouth. he smiles at his own antics, proud of himself, before he presses his lips to yours. his hand comes to cradle your jaw, kissing you long & firm, as he sits up. your lips chase his, and he places a quick peck on your lips once more as he stands up. his hand leaves your jaw, and you could almost whine at the loss of his touch.

you watch him turn & walk away, he doesn’t turn around to look at you again, knowing if he does—he’s going right back into your arms. he grabs his sword, opening the flap of the tent & walking out. you stretch, content with his goodbye. you’ll get up in a few minutes, and you’ll see each other around the camp, but it’s the quiet mornings before the world wakes up that keeps you both sane. you smile, hearing robb & theons voices outside the tent as they walk away.

“what took you so long? greywind almost had me for a snack, you know.”

“would be a small meal.”

is screaming at your own writing something u shouldn’t admit cause AHHHHHHH. put me & him in a room tg & we BOTH walking out pregnant.