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axelsagewrites · 1 year

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Robb Stark*Frey Girl

Pairing: Robb x F!Frey!Reader

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

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

Word count: 4127

Requested

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

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

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

Masterlist Here

Part one Here

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

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

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

“She doesn’t know you,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taglist: @twilightrows @graniairish @kimm4710

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luvinescent · 4 months

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Stealing Time

Pairing: Modern!Robb Stark x fem!Reader

Summary: Weddings should be an event full of joy and happiness for everyone involved. Especially for the bride and groom, who are the main focal point of it all. So, what is the reason for celebrations if they both have gone missing?

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, sexual content, smut, p in v, dirty talk, etc.

Word count: 3933

Additional: M/H/N stands for Maid of Honors Name.

A soft melody of a strong quartet could be heard through the air like a soft breeze as more guests continued to arrive. The venue was decorated with fairy lights that cascaded down, a crystal chandelier in the middle of it all, creating an inviting and dreamy atmosphere. The celebratory music pulsated on the dance floor, enticing visitors to sway and swirl in a joyful celebration. The air was filled with laughter and lively discussions that mixed with the sound of glasses clinking as toasts were being offered in honor of the newlyweds.

The only problem was that neither one of them were present in the room.

Catelyn Stark, mother of the groom, stood scanning the room next to the wedding planner— a young girl who looked to be on the verge of pulling out her hair. Catelyn could hear the small anxious mutters of “we’re off schedule now” as the girl kept analyzing the clipboard she held in her hand. Excusing herself from the girl and her husband, Catelyn went towards the hallways connecting to the venue. She was stopped in her travels by a distant relative on her husbands’ side, smiling at the old man.

“Catelyn!” he greeted heartily. “Where is that boy of yours? I haven’t seen him or the new Mrs.”. He let out a great laugh, holding onto his rounded beer belly for support. Catelyn returned the laugh, nodding at his question, “I was just about to go get him. I’ll be right back”.

She turned around; the sound of her heels clicking on the shiny floor echoed, causing any guests in her path to quickly shift aside. Catelyn walked with a confident stance, her chin up, shoulders back, and a big smile covering her face. A smile that was very deceiving and Jon Snow knew this when she came faced with him.

“Where is your brother?”

He stared wide eyed at her, caught off guard by her presence and her question. His face was a ballet of nervousness, revealing the false confidence he was trying so hard to keep up. “I-I, uh… I don’t know...”, Jon shrugged his shoulder, wincing a little at the look she gave him. Catelyn smacked her lips, grabbing a hold of Jons ear, “Don’t lie to me. Where is Robb? The nerve of that boy! Disappearing at his own wedding, and you covering for him. I thought I raised you both better than this!”. The entire time, the bride’s maid of honor had stood next to Jon, witnessing him get a scolding from his mother, but Catelyn could care less about his embarrassment. Before Catelyn could continue her interrogation, she was stopped by the sound of a familiar voice within her distance. “Have you seen Y/N?”.

Turning around, Catelyn saw the mother of the bride asking a family member before she turned and saw her. “Oh, Cat!”, the mother rushed towards her, “Have you seen my daughter? I can’t find her anywhere”.

Putting back on that wide smile, Catelyn turned her head to Jon and the maid of honor. “What a coincidence. I can’t seem to find my son either.”

The two looked like deer’s caught in headlights. Both their words jumbled out fast, inaudible to the human ear. Thinking fast, M/H/N leaped into action, her words both a hasty attempt and holding a somewhat truth to them. “Y/N went to go change from her wedding gown to her reception dress”. Jon nodded vigorously in agreement at her explanation, “A-And Robb wanted to change his shoes”. M/H/N whipped her neck and gave Jon a glare, his add on not helping as Robb did not bring extra shoes. Y/N’s mother did not have time to question any of what they said—being brisked away to go greet a great aunt.

Catelyn stood in front of the two adults once again. She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by their statements.

“Y/N went to go change?”

“Yes”, M/H/N said instantly.

“And Robb went to go change his shoes?”

“Yes”, now it was Jon.

“…and they went together?”

“…yes”, they both replied. Humming to herself, she continued observing them, knowing very well they were hiding something. “How long ago did they leave?”. They once again exchanged looks with one another, face flushed with embarrassment, “Uh, not that long ago…they’ll be here soon”. Catelyn’s skepticism deepened, her eyes darting from M/H/N awkward performance to Jon’s increasingly guilty expression. Letting out a sigh and rubbing her temples, she turned to return to the party, “Fine”.

With one hand tangled in his auburn curls, you panted against Robb’s lips, “mm you’re insane”. Robb chose to ignore your words, his lips choosing to instead attack your neck and his fingers gripping hard on your thigh— surely to leave bruises come morning. Craning your neck back for more easy access, you tried reasoning, “they’re probably looking for us now—“. You couldn’t even finish your sentence, his cock having thrusted into your walls so deep it left you gasping for air, “f-Fuck, Robb!”

He groaned against your neck, his hips moving in rhythm against yours, “Who cares what they’re doing when I get to have you like this to all to myself”. You almost bit your tongue when his hand slipped between the two of you, fingers rubbing at your sweet spot, “Fuck, I love it when you moan my name”.

It was almost close to an hour ago when your maid of honor took you to change out of your wedding dress into your reception dress. Coming out of the dressing room, you were met with both your newly brother-in-law and newly husband. While M/H/N and Jon engaged in some conversation about the band arriving soon, Robb and you took to wrapping each other up in arms. With a huge grin on his face, he planted small kisses all over your face, “My gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous, wife”. Laughing at how his stubble tickled against your face, you laid your palm up against his cheek, “Aye, watch the makeup”, quickly giving him a kiss on the lips before pulling away and looking into his blue eyes, “but thank you my very handsome, good-looking, very very very attractive husband”. You two shared a moment of silence and intense gaze before you both broke out in giggles, capturing each other’s lips in one another, moving tendering and deeply. Pulling away, Robb stared down at you, both love in his eyes but also a hint of something else.

“You know you really do look gorgeous. You look equally as beautiful in this dress as you did in your wedding dress”. You thanked him once again but gave him a puzzled look when he said he had other opinions, however.

“And what other opinions are those?”, you said, smiling while waving at a cousin who just entered the building. Turning back to Robb, you noticed the way his eyes had slightly shifted in emotion; something more carnal behind them. Bending down his head towards your ear, he whispered softly, “If we weren’t in public right now, I’d have you naked with my head between your thighs”. His voice brought chills up your spine as he blew a soft gust of air on your earlobe before going back to height. Biting your lip and playing with his tie, you titled your head to the side and chuckled softly “You would, huh?”. His only reply was a nod, watching your every move like hawk and gulping as your fingers started to trail along his neck now. Robb was being unfair; he knew just how much his words had an effect on you. But yours did too. Bringing him down by his tie, you’d thought best to return his teasing—fighting fire with fire.

Slowly, you leaned up, “…I want you inside of me. I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do right now”. You could hear his breath hitch behind his closed mouth. Both of you were once again stuck in an intense stare down, this time only desire and want in your gazes. You were quick to fix yourself up, distancing yourself a bit from Robb and plastering on an innocent smile as more guests arrived, “Hi. Thank you for coming”. You snickered to yourself; feeling Robbs eyes on your back as he hadn’t moved a single inch from his spot. Jon and M/H/N ended their conversation and turned to face you both, nodding their head in the direction of the main area, “Alright, let’s get going”.

You took one single step before Robb came up behind you, grabbing you by your forearm and pushing you towards his chest. “Actually”, he started, “Y/N told me her dress is bothering her”. M/H/N had stepped up, examining you from head to toe, “Oh, let me help— “. Robb had interrupted her by raising his hand and shaking his head, “No, it’s fine. I got it. Besides, we want to spend some quiet time together, don’t we babe?”. Looking up at him, you quickly assessed the situation and nodded along, “R-right, yeah. We’ll be right back. You guys go and have fun. Who cares about us anyways.”

Jon and M/H/N didn’t have time to argue back— the new couple running down the halls of the building, hand in hand with laughter being echoed throughout it. Jon tsked his tongue, shouting at his brother and sister-in-law who were still in view, “What do you mean who cares about you guys?! This is your wedding!”. They both turned to flip Jon off, turning the corner and disappearing to the next connecting hall. Sighing, Jon rubbed his face as M/H/N came to stand next to him in silence.

“You know there was nothing wrong with her dress”. “… Yeah”.

And that’s how you found yourself with Robb in some random office room in the building of your wedding reception. Robb’s patience was running low as he pushed you up against the wall and against the corner of what some seemed to be some bookshelf. Both your lips hungrily going at each other very frantically. A loud moan was swallowed by his mouth when his fingers went down, pushing your panties to the side and starting to play with your wet folds and opening. Wasting no time, you trailed your hands down towards his belt, quickly trying to undo it. Robb pulled away entirely from you, using the distance to unbutton a bit of his dress shirt and to take off his belt. Breathing heavily, you grabbed him back down by the neck for another kiss, biting his lip and sucking on his tongue. Pulling away, you raised an eyebrow at Robb with a smirk present on your face and his lips darkened and wet with saliva, “I’m almost positive this kind of tradition is reserved for tonight. You know, after the reception, not during”. Robb laughed slightly, pushing up against you and grabbing a hold of your thigh, wrapping your leg around his waist while the other stood for balance. His other hand was used to bunch up the fabric of your white party dress and to pull down one of its straps. “What can I say”, he bit along your neck, “you’re just so damn beautiful. So damn sexy. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to hold myself back when I saw you walking down that aisle”. His lips returned to yours. This kiss was messy with teeth almost clashing and tongues fighting. Both your hands were everywhere they could be felt; his on your thighs, ass, hips, breasts, and yours on his chest, neck, and back. Pulling away, Robb looked at you from head to toe and gave you a teasing smile, “And what’s all this?”. With both your body movements and clothes shifting, Robb had finally taken noticed of the white lace lingerie you had underneath the entire time of both your wedding dress and your reception dress. Rolling your eyes, you gave him a pointed look, “It was supposed to be for tonight. Way to ruin the surprise”. He pouted mockingly at you and let out a small chuckle, kissing your forehead before his previous lustful look returned, “We can keep it on for now. And for tonight, I’ll just pretend it’s my first time seeing it”.

The way he spoke and stared at you had sent something straight to your burning core and had made you shifted closer to him unconsciously. “Such a gentleman”, you spoke running a thumb along his bottom lip and started kissing him again. With his belt already undone, it only took a few seconds to push down his clothing layers just enough to free his cock. As a brief warning, sliding your panties to the side, he slid his tip through your wet folds for a couple seconds. The whine you let out was all he needed before he pushed entirely inside you. You gasped loudly and screwed your eyes shut as Robb gave you a few seconds to adjust to the sudden fullness. Shaking your head, you bit down on your lip, “Don't be gentle with me—I like it when you're rough”. Robb wasted no time, gripping your thigh and fucking deeply into you, “Ah, fuck”, he moaned out, “you feel so fucking good. My good girl. My fucking wife”. He moved his lips along your collarbone, groaning and biting down. “Mm, fuck” you muffled out as your pussy clenched around his hard cock with every thrust he made. Robb took a second to look down, watching the way you took him in and your sleek and arousal that coated him every time he reentered. He was in heaven. Looking back up, you stared at Robb whose pupils were dilated in rapture with a little sweat coating his forehead. You probably looked the same to him as well. Your standing leg was starting to lose balance, causing you to slightly shift. Robb was quick to grab a hold of you, causing the tip of his cock to hit your most sensitive spot and just what he was looking for. “Hmm!”, you moaned out, “fuck Robb, right there!”, you truly felt like you were seeing stars. He started to fuck into you even faster and harder, increasing his movements, your pussy clenching even more, indicating your release. Eyes rolling back, you let your head fall back against the wall as you let out a mixture of curse words, moans, and Robbs’ name. Your body filled with warmth and pleasure, trembling as Robb held onto you and continued trying to reach his own climax. His movements were starting to get sloppy; you knew he was reaching his dissolve soon. However, he had to stop his movements abruptly; the doorknob to the room shaking vigorously.

Despite having locked the door beforehand, it was Robb’s natural reflex to reach over and hold onto the knob. At the same time doing so, he had let out a groan, and you a squeak as he slightly pushed you with his body. You were caught off balance but were able to hold onto the corner of the bookshelf, giving Robb a glare while he raised his finger up to his lip.

“Is somebody in there?”

Both your eyes widened in mutual shock; mouths agape as you two exchanged a horrified glance. You both recognized that voice as Robb’s Aunt Lysa.

She started banging harshly on the door now, “I know that someone is in there. I can hear you! This is a private event! If the cops need to be called, I have no problem- “.

“It’s me Aunt Lysa”, Robb spoke out, slightly cringing. Your face was flushed red; both because of your current activities and because of shame. Looking down, Robb’s left hand still had your thigh wrapped around his waist and his cock still buried inside you.

“Robb?”, Lysa questioned, “Is that you? Your mother has been looking everywhere for you! What are you doing in there?”

Robb gave you a once-over before clearing his throat, “I’m just…changing”. Your grip on the shelf was losing itself, causing you to readjust and move — which caused you to slightly sink down onto Robb’s cock. He was quick to bite his lip to stop the moan coming from his mouth, almost drawing blood in the process. Robb knew you too well and covered your mouth with his hand, knowing you would do the same. The only probably was that he wasn’t as quick.

“Now, hold on,” Lysa loudly said from the other side of the door, “I can hear another person in there and it sounds like a woman. Robb Stark you may be my nephew but I swear to God if you’re doing what I think your doing - “

“It’s me Mrs. Arryn”, you finally spoke out too. There was a moment of silence from the other end before Lysa started speaking again, “Oh, Y/N. Of course… Your mother was also looking for you…”. There was some awkwardness to her tone as you tried your best to clean up the situation, “I’m just changing too. Robb’s helping me”. Another awkward silence passed, “Of course he is…”. You and Robb gave each other a side glance; it was clear she didn’t believe you two and knew what you two were really doing. “Well”, Lysa began, “I best let you two get back to uh…changing…oh, um, where are the bathrooms?”. Robb was the one to answer her question, “On the other side of the building”. With a quick thank you and goodbye, you could hear the distant sound of her heels from the other side before she was gone entirely.

Turning back to Robb, you slapped his chest, groaning into your hands, “Ughhhh, that was so embarrassing”. He only laughed, making you peek at him from the gaps of your fingers. “What are you laughing at? You heard her; our parents are looking for us, so we better go”. Robb’s only response was to kiss you sloppy, pushing back once more inside you. You gasped into his mouth, his tongue playing with yours. Robb then pulled out of you completely, making you whimper from the sudden emptiness. Grabbing you by the forearm, he dragged you towards the desk in the room, bending you over it, pushing your dress up and your panties down— exposing yourself fully to him. He caressed your ass before smacking it hard; making you huff, “Let them wait a few more minutes”, his fingers played along your glistening folds. Standing up behind you, he pushed himself back into you, thrusting in, and out, and in again. Each time rougher than the other as he stretched out your cunt. Grabbing ahold of your hair and arching your back for him, he spoke into your ear, “This is our special day, isn’t it?”. Your only answer was a loud moan, his fingers being placed in your mouth to suck on. “Besides, I’m not fully done with you”.

About twenty minutes later (some of which took up of M/H/N fixing your makeup and concealing your bite marks), you and Robb entered the main room holding arms. Guests were raising their glasses up to you in cheers— some already clearly starting to get tipsy. A close friend of yours came up to you both, hugging you and giving you your congrats while Robb shook hands with her boyfriend. Once they pulled away and moved aside, you both had clear sight across the room of the one person who was looking for you two the most: Catelyn Stark. To make matters worse, she was also conversing with her sister; both whispering and giving you two the side eye.

“Crap” both you and Robb said in unison, watching Catelyn with her wrath make her way towards you. Your sight was cut off by the wedding planner standing stressed and tired in front of you, “Okay, we can get back on schedule if we just follow with the original plan. Bride, it’s time for the father-daughter dance”. Your ears perked up at the familiar sound of the music you had chosen for this occasion and turned to see your dad already on the dance floor. Turning back to Robb, you gave him a sheepish smile, “Would you look at that… gotta go”. He was quick to grab a hold of your hand, “You can’t leave me. You vowed to be with me through anything”. Pulling your hand back, you raised both hands up in defense, “I had my fingers crossed when I said that”.

Seeing his pouted puppy look made you laugh, quickly blowing him a kiss, “I’m kidding. I love you”, turning to go dance with your father. Robb didn’t even have to turn around— already feeling his mother’s presence behind him. Wrapping arms with him, many passersby would see the scene as a mother coddling her son. But Catelyn was actually pinching Robb’s side, and hard. “You are so vulgar I swear. At your own wedding Robb, really? You couldn’t wait until after?”, she spoke through gritted teeth.

Robb winced a little at the pain, but his eyesight was also focused on you. Smiling and laughing with your father. “Why are you getting only me in trouble? Y/N was equally in on it”. Catelyn could only roll her eyes at her sons’ immature response, “Please, knowing you and knowing her it was probably all your doing”. Staring up at him to continue her scolding, she stopped momentarily at the look in her sons’ eyes. Following his line of vision, she was meet with you. A tender smile graced Catelyn lips. Nothing short of captivating was the way he gazed upon you. His unspoken proclamation of love seemed to go beyond words, and his eyes radiated an undying commitment. “Are you happy?”, she asked Robb. The song was coming close to the end. Robb turned to face his mother, a stern look on his face and nothing but seriousness was his tone, “Yes. I am”. From the corner of his eye, Robb could see your father leading you to him. Standing up higher, Catelyn gave him a quick peck on the forehead, “Good. That’s all I’ve ever wanted”. You and your father came face to face with the both of them, Catelyn giving you a peck on the cheek and your father handing you over to Robb, “She’s all yours’ son,” he patted his shoulder, “take care of her”.

Robb led you to the dance floor where the band had started to play a slower and more romantic song. Swaying to the tempo, you spoke up, “So, was she angry?”. Robb let out a small chuckle, smiling down at you. “She was,” he began, “but she said she’d forgive us if we gave her a grandchild”. Staring at him agape, you slapped his chest with a small gasp, “She did not say that!”. Now you both were laughing. The world around you two seemed to fade into a soft blur as you moved, lost in the embrace of your love. Resting your head against his chest, you felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I love you”, Robb spoke up, his hand tenderly placed on the small of your back. Sighing deeply, inhaling his scent and allowing yourself to bask in his warmth, both of you feeling safe in each other’s embrace, you let him know your feelings, “I love you too”.

Enjoying the moment's beauty, you both stayed in each other's arms as the music softly faded into the night. You both understood that this dance was only the start of an endless journey together.

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claymoresword · 4 months

Text

Where's My Love

Cersei Lannister x Stark Fem!Reader 🐺

Prompt: I was wondering if you could write a Cersei x Stark!fem!reader where she's Ned's youngest sister and Cersei's ex-secret lover. Reader is a rebel like Arya and never married but she's very protective of her nieces/nephews. She and Cersei had a bad breakup and are finally reuniting during the events of the first GOT episode when the king's court goes to Winterfell. You could write reader backing up Arya again Joffrey and Cersei seething 😂😂😂 you can include g!p and smut if you want.

Wordcount: 5.8k

Pairing: Cersei x Stark Reader

Warnings: g!p reader, smut, power play, depictions of physical abuse, cheating , very toxic , references to alcoholism, breeding kink if you squint, emotional manipulation, did i already say this was toxic ?

Note: thank you so much 🐑 for the prompt! i actually had a lot of fun writing this one. also important to note this is my first time actually publishing something y'all have requested me to write so hopefully i got this right.. i know i tweaked and added a couple things but i hope you don't mind! and if you hate this i'm sorry lmao i tried <33

(smut after asterisks)

Bouts of laughter erupt from your nephews as Bran once again misses his mark, the arrow flies way over the target.

You glare at the older boys, in response Robb places a hand over his mouth, Jon instead chooses to avoid your gaze entirely focusing his stare at the ground beneath.

All dirt and sleet on the base of your boot, the ground squelched with every step you took.

“Try again, Bran. Take a deep breath, aim properly.” You order placing a lingering hand on his shoulder.

The young boy nods obediently as you step back once more, he raises his bow arm.

He aims, soon releasing the string, and once again, he misses. The arrow pierces the edge of a barrel on the far left, leagues away from his actual target.

Once again the boys burst into fits of laughter, this time is it not you who reprimands them.

“And which one of you was a marksman at ten?” You follow the sound of your brother's voice, he is standing on the balcony above, Catelyn by his side.

“Keep trying, Bran.” Jon decides to cease his teasing, he encourages his half-brother.

A sudden gust of wind tickles your face, the cold breeze permeates the air, bleeding through the thin fabric of your doublet. You immediately regret not putting on more layers this morning. You have lost track of the days, but there is no doubt that winter is coming.

“Robb, make certain your brother continues practicing. I am going back inside, but remember– your father is watching.” You warn your eldest nephew, as stern as you can manage.

Shaggy streaks of red hair fall over his eyes as he nods.

You wrap your arms around yourself as you start up the stairs, but your plan to slip back into your chambers unnoticed fails.

“Y/n.” Cat appears next to you.

“Are you alright?” The Lady of Winterfell asks, and you force a sweet smile, one to disarm and hopefully quell her worries.

Catelyn didn't exactly warm to you at first, and neither did you with her, but over time you both grew to truly care for one another. She was like an older sister to you, the void left by your late sister Lyanna did not seem so large with her around.

“I'm fine, I just needed to fetch something from my bedchambers, that's all.” You lie. However, the older woman somehow always manages to see right through you.

She gazes upon you skeptically only to eventually release your arm. She takes a step back, allowing you to take your leave without further interrogation.

In truth, you were far from alright.

Despite yourself, you have been on edge since finding out that the King is on his way to Winterfell with his Lady wife and all of their children.

This visit is a sudden one. Upon the death of Jon Arryn you had expected things to be different, knowing how much the former Hand meant to your brother– but you never anticipated a visit from the King himself.

You hadn't seen Robert in nine years, and his wife for longer than that.

It is not by accident.

If it was up to you, things would be different. You would still be in King's Landing today, perhaps serving as Knight– or as Cersei had once intended, a personal guard for the Queen.

You were once certain that you would spend the rest of your days by Cersei's side, no matter the circumstances, but you merely held the high hopefulness of a young girl.

Since then have been forced to accept that life is nothing like the tales and songs you were fed as a child. The Gods are not always merciful, things rarely ever go to plan and love most certainly does not conquer all.

Life got in the way of your love, and pride did the rest.

You have not spoken to Cersei Lannister in a decade, yet your entire being continued to ache with every day that you have spent apart. Time does not heal the type of hurt that only yields to resentment.

When the King and Queen arrive for their visit on the morrow, you intend to avoid her Grace at all costs, for her sake and your own. Above all, you will have no choice but to grit your teeth and endure what you must.

You haven't seen Cersei in years, but you were bound to slaughter each other given the chance.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

“Come in!” You beckon whoever was on the other side of the door as you fastened the clasps on your doublet.

Ned ceases his knocking, pushing the door open, he looks upon you in a way he knew you hated, but your brother can hardly help it.

He worries about you. When you returned home all those years ago, you were inconsolable.

You are a Stark, not made for the South. Your brother tried in jest, but he knew it wasn't the weather, or even court politics that despaired you.

It was Cersei, it had always been Cersei.

"The King was seen riding up; he should be arriving any moment.” Ned states.

“Right, I'm almost done here.” You quip, but the man takes it upon himself to assist you with your sheepskin cloak, draping it over your shoulders.

He keeps his hands on you, his brows furrowed with evident worry, and for some reason you can't help but find it all a bit silly, you chuckle lightly. “I will be fine, Ned.”

Your brother appears less than convinced, you shove him playfully. “You worry about me too much, brother, it’s beginning to age you.”

Ned scoffs. “Aye, try being in my position for a day and you'll understand why I worry so much… but it is time that's aging me, little sister.” Ned quips in response and this makes you pause.

You notice the streaks of white, scattered across his dark locks. As the morning sun peeks through the window, catching his face, you observe more of those streaks in his beard.

Where has time gone?

Ned steps closer, it seems that he has mistaken your silence for something else. Your brother plants a quick kiss on the crown of your head as a result.

In times like this you can't help but feel like a girl of thirteen again, looking to her older brother for protection.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You watched as the Kingsguard rode through the walls of Winterfell, Lannister banners in hand. It unsettles you more than you thought it would. You gnaw at the inside of your cheek, turning to Sansa, her younger sister still nowhere in sight.

“Sansa, where is your sister?” You question and the girl only shrugs dismissively, but you aren't left wondering for long as Arya can be seen pushing through the crowd, quickly settling next to you.

The young girl was wearing an iron helm you had never seen before, her once pristine dress now ornamented with specks of dirt and grime. You shake your head disapprovingly, an effort to suppress your amusement.

Sansa scoffs at the sight of her younger sister, while you snatch the helm off Arya's head, she looks up at you with a scowl.

“Where did you even get this?” You ask, your tone manages to match the look on her face.

Arya gives you no response, and you aren't allowed the opportunity to press her further as you feel a nudge against your arm. Ned forces you to look ahead as the King can be seen dismounting his horse.

Ned kneels, and you and everyone else follows suit.

After a beat, the King's command all of you to rise, and soon you spot the carriage halting a few feet behind him.

You involuntarily held your breath as the door opens. The Queen emerges, she keeps her gaze ahead as she climbs down the steps.

Cersei looks the picture of poise and grace. She seems older, and somehow even more beautiful than you remembered. It knocked the wind right out of you, you had to look away.

Your eyes are no longer on the Queen, but your chest aches all the same.

“Cat!” Your attention is pulled to the display before you as the King addresses your sister in law, pulling her in for an embrace that she doesn't appear to be prepared for.

“Nine years. why haven't I seen you, where the hell have you been?” Robert addresses your brother once more.

“Guarding the North, Your Grace. Winterfell is yours.” Ned replies, practiced and noble as he always was.

Robert then turns to you, a scowl upon his face, one that stuns you slightly. Your mind turns to Cersei, you consider what she might have shared with her Lord husband in your absence.

She must have told him the real reason you left King's Landing, no doubt the King will want you punished for repeatedly bedding his wife all those years ago. but then the King's frown turns, and your mind ceases its torment.

Robert lunges only to pull you in for an embrace, a gesture that startles you, your body remains tense until he releases you from his hold.

“I expected better from you, Y/n.” The King narrows his gaze in a puckish manner.

“Unlike your damned brother here I thought you enjoyed the Keep. I was sure you wanted to serve in my Kingsguard.” He adds, and you force a grin, gallant yet strained.

“I admit that was a different time, Your Grace. These days, my passions lie elsewhere.” You reply, and you can hardly prevent the way your gaze flits towards the Queen for a moment.

Cersei has been stood beside her husband, staring at you relentlessly for the entire duration of this interaction. If the Queen has remained the same person she was all those years ago, then you know for certain this was her attempt to intimidate– but you were not so keen on letting her have the upper hand.

You drill your expression, unfazed.

The King snorts derisively at your answer, but says nothing more.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You had spent most of the afternoon, drowning in your cups. The knowledge that Cersei was only a few doors away was aggravating, everything you thought to have successfully repressed has now resurfaced.

Every inch of you calls out to Cersei, your very soul yearns for her. You craved the unbearable pain, and blinding pleasure that came with being around her.

You have laid awake many nights picturing the ways you would confront her. The things you would say to her.

You fantasized about the possibility of finally being rid of all of your pain. To hurt her the same way she hurt you. Your heart, dense and cold, obstructed by all things Cersei. Within you, you carried everything you despised about the other woman– and all the things you adored.

The Queen was a mistake you couldn't erase, and simultaneously the best thing that has ever happened to you. You hate her, but you cannot stand to be apart from her.

The sound of commotion snatches you out of your thoughts. The voices that permeate sound vaguely familiar to you, but you are only able to place them once you take a glance out your window.

You spot Arya and Bran in the courtyard. Prince Joffrey standing over them, your face falls as you spot his steel unsheathed from his scabbard and in his hand.

Without another moment's thought you rushed downstairs towards the training yard, prepared to pacify the affair, however dire it may be, but it seems Arya has taken the situation into her own hands.

Bran is gone, but the Prince is now on the ground. It seems that Arya has managed to disarm the older boy, his steel thrown to the side in the dirt.

Now she is threatening Joffrey with a wooden practice sword, her direwolf beside her, growling with intent at the Prince.

“Arya enough!” You intercept the blow, forcefully dragging your niece away from the boy.

“What the seven hells do you think you're doing?” You bark, and Arya drops the sword, her chest still heaving.

A young girl seething with unbridled fury was such an uncommon sight that it makes you grimace.

“He was trying to hurt Bran! I had to protect him.” Arya gestures to the Prince, the boy still whimpering in pain.

“Damn you and that stupid dog! I am telling my mother! I will report you to the king!” Joffrey hurls his threats, and Arya makes the juvenile decision to respond.

“Nymeria's a direwolf, not a dog!” She shouts and you sigh, placing a hand over your niece's mouth to silence her, an action Arya fights but your grip on her doesn't relent.

“My Prince, I am sure my niece meant no harm–” You try but the boy interjects.

“No harm?” The Prince hisses. “She nearly sliced my arm off!” Once again he whimpers like a pup that had just been trampled.

You take a step forward to examine the cut on Joffrey's arm, and it was only that– a minor cut, one that will heal without leaving as much as a scar.

Large footsteps approach, the Prince's sworn guard comes rushing to the scene, Sandor Clegane scowls at you before assisting the boy to his feet effortlessly with one hand.

“Some protector you are, dog. I almost died!” Joffrey then redirects his frustrations towards his guard.

He continues muttering insults as he retrieves his sword from the dirt, strutting out of the training yard.

Nymeria doesn't cease her growling until the boy was entirely out of sight, it was also only then you remove your hand from Arya's mouth.

“Have you completely lost your wits?” You gape, looking down at your niece disapprovingly, before kneeling to be at eye level with her.

“He was–” Arya starts, but you interrupt.“–I don't care what he did, Arya. You never attack a Prince.” You state firmly.

“You do something like this again and I will make sure you never get the chance to wield a weapon again, do you understand?” You assert, and your tone is harsh enough to make Arya wince.

She doesn't reply with words, she continues looking down at her feet as she nods.

“Let's go and get you cleaned up.” You state, you try to pull her by the arm but Arya doesn't budge.

“I was trying to be brave, like you.” She mutters under her breath, and you turn to look at the young girl once more.

“What?” You ask.

“Don't be upset with me, please, please. I'm sorry.” Then Arya states frantically, her voice small and frail– it shatters you.

“Oh, Arya– my sweet girl.” You say, kneeling once again. “I'm not upset, I was worried.” You pull her in for an embrace, your niece clutches you tightly in return.

After a prolonged moment, you cease the hug, wiping away some of the dirt from her face with the pads of your thumbs.

Then you took a quick scan of your surroundings, to ensure that you were alone before speaking again.

“Our Prince is a bit of a cunt.” You finally quip, earning a chuckle from Arya.

“He is.” Your niece beams at you, in turn this makes you fill with relief.

“I am proud of you for disarming him. but next time, leave it at that. Do you understand the consequences that come with attacking a King's heir?” You ask, and you watch as a realization graces the young girl, she averts her gaze, this time with guilt.

“Never again, do you hear me?”

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You were exhausted from the events of the day, and yet it was not close to over.

You decide to retire to your chambers, aiming for at least a few hours rest before the King's welcome feast later this evening.

Resting your hand on the pommel of your sword, you take large steps through the gallery. You crave the horn of ale waiting for you on your nightstand, the comfort of your warm bed.

You turn the corner, a figure appears before you and you swerve out of the way quickly enough to avoid whoever it was that decided to walk toward you in this exact moment from the opposite direction.

As you gather yourself to take a proper look at the woman who you nearly bumped into, your blood runs cold.

“Your Grace, forgive me.” You state curtly, inclining your head at Cersei.

Your hand remains resting on the hilt of your sword as you attempt to slip past her, but before you can successfully walk away, she has a hold of your arm, dragging you backwards to where you stood.

You yank your arm out of her hold, a scowl covers your features, but Cersei ignores your visible discontent as she speaks.

“That niece of yours tried to murder my son.” The Queen accuses.

“What?” You can't help the half-laugh that slips out of you. Cersei takes offense to this, her expression hardens.

“Joff will bear those scars for the rest of his life.” She is not backing down, and you can't pretend that you possessed the will to deal with her theatrics.

You only roll your eyes, finally slipping past her and into your chambers.

You step inside your room, but before you can close the door Cersei intercepts, forcefully pushing it open to let herself in.

She slams it closed behind herself.

“You dare walk away from your Queen?” She bellows.

This time you groan, collapsing onto your bed.

You ignore her statement, rubbing your hands over your face in frustration. “Oh, Cersei, it is a cut, it'll heal!”

A prolonged silence from the Queen, she only speaks again once you sit up in your bed.

“You've not changed a bit.” She remarks, treacherous emerald gaze meeting your pale greys.

“Neither have you.” You retaliate boldly.

More silence until Cersei is first to look away, clasping her hands infront of herself she assumes an impassive stance.

“I will have that girl punished.” The Queen threatens, her tone sounds spiteful. but you don't hide your incredulity.

“For what?” You ask, and Cersei's jaw clenches even tighter, you wonder if she might lunge at you.

“She attacked my son. the King's heir.” Cersei retorts, and you scoff.

“Is that what Robert’s teaching his sons? How to lose to a little girl?” You taunt, not backing down.

You knew Arya should receive consequences for her actions by right, but giving Cersei that satisfaction is the absolute last thing you plan to do.

“Or is it not the King's doing at all?” You ask again as Cersei fails to respond. You rise from the bed, stepping closer to the Queen.

“Is it Jaime's fault?” You tilt your head inquisitively, mockingly.

You are close enough to smell the lavender oil on Cersei's skin. Her eyes flit to your lips for a fleeting moment, and yours do the same to hers.

Then a madness overcomes you, prompting your next choice of words.

“I expect it is him you've been opening your legs for these days–” You utter, but you are swiftly silenced when Cersei's palm makes contact with your cheek.

She slaps you across the face, your head turns slightly from the force of it. Your face is now throbbing, raw and red with traces of Cersei's wrath.

She goes to strike you again, and this time it is intercepted by your firm grip on her wrist.

A fury reignites within you as Cersei tries to fight out of your hold, entirely allowing your emotions to guide your actions, your hand finds her throat. Before your rational mind can mitigate it, you have your fingers firmly wrapped around her neck. The back of her head slams against the wooden door as you forcibly pinned her upon it.

The Queen is clawing at your hand, struggling to take a breath as you restricted her airway. A real fear flashes across Cersei's face, and a part of you wants to watch her fall limp within your grasp, to quiet her once and for all, to destroy the cause of your agony. but you don't– instead you take a step back, releasing her.

Cersei gasps as air sharply re enters her lungs, roughly wiping away the tears that have made it down her cheeks.

The Queen attempts to regain her resolve the best she can, and the look she gives you is not one of shock, instead it is pure disdain, and you look at her the same. Cersei doesn't speak, she merely shoves you harshly with both hands against your chest, as you stumbled back, she turns to open the door.

You collapse on your bed once more as Cersei dissapears into the hallway, the door shutting behind her.

“Fuck.” You cursed under your breath. It seemed the Queen will never fail to elicit the worst from you– to make you act like an utter lunatic.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

The welcome feast has been dragging on now for what felt like an eternity.

The King was no longer seated as his high table, instead he was in the center of the hall, shamelessly flirting with some of the servants.

You roll your eyes, reaching for the flagon of ale infront of you, as you attempted to lift it, it doesn't budge. You fleetingly wonder if the liquor had caused you to lose all strength in your arm, only to realize your brother was holding the jug firmly on the table so it wouldn't move.

You squint at Ned, and he glares at you in return.

“Enough. You'll drink yourself into an early grave if you keep this up.” Your brother warns and it makes you snigger.

“That is the plan, brother.” You slur slightly, but Ned makes the deliberate effort to ignore you.

You slump backwards in your chair, when you've realized you lost this argument, as you often did when it came to the lord of Winterfell.

You eyes fall upon King Robert once more, he is still in the middle of the room, surrounded by maidens and even more whores.

This time he is no longer flirting with them, he is in a full lip lock with one of the women. He does this in the presence of the Queen, dishonouring her for all to see.

You grimace at the sight, an unwanted rage overcomes you. You can hardly believe this lecherous drunk was King of the Seven Kingdoms. Married to the most beautiful woman in all of the seven kingdoms, the only woman you have ever wanted.

You can't bear to look at Cersei's reaction to this, in fact you can hardly remain at this feast for a moment longer. You abruptly rise from your seat, Ned looks up at you, puzzled.

“May I please be excused?” You asked formally for the rest of the table to hear and your brother hesitates before nodding curtly in response.

As you walked back to your chambers you can't help but invision what your life would have been like if your brother had taken the Iron throne instead of Robert Baratheon. If you had remained in King's Landing– if you had wedded Cersei instead.

Perhaps in a different life.

You and Cersei would be married, and you'd rule together. In another reality Cersei would be your Queen and not Robert's. She would bear your children, your heirs. You would grow old together and live out your days by each other's side. In a different life, you would have remained faithful to Cersei, you would have given her everything she desired and in return, Cersei would offer you her heart.

You would have been happy.

In another life.

By the time you reached your room, the tears had stopped flowing, but the collar of your shirt remained drenched.

As you shut your door, you unclapsed your doublet, lifting it above your head, tossing it aimlessly across the room.

Now only in your tunic and breeches, you feel the urge to weep some more, but you refuse to allow your tears to fall this time.

You take a seat on the settee, head in your hands. The effects of the ale already wearing off, a headache rapidly setting in, you realized that you needed another drink.

You get up to fetch the flagon from the small table but as your door flings wide open, nearly hitting you in the process, you freeze where you stand.

A familiar golden haired beauty emerges through the doorway, and you allow yourself a deep breath. Clutching your chest slightly to calm yourself.

“Your Grace, the hour is late.” You state dismissively, starting across the room to fetch your goblet.

“If you have come to order my execution for my behaviour this afternoon, best get it over with.” You quip, the liquor in your system doing all of the talking for you.

You hear the door shut, without looking back you assume Cersei had taken her leave but you are perplexed when you turn to see her still standing by the door, watching you set down your goblet.

You walk across the room once more to take a seat on the settee, you remove your boots, setting them aside.

Cersei has remained silent for long enough that you nearly forgotten her presence entirely. Her next ask startles you.

“Look at me.” Her commanding tone leaves no room to argue, you glance at her.

Her eyes were swollen, her cheeks flushed. It is clear to you that she has been crying as well.

You rise from your seat abruptly, approaching her. “Are you alright?” You ask, and again the Queen says nothing.

She merely stares at you, hopefulness at your concern and despair at the fact that you needed to ask.

She lunges forward, before you can fully comprehend it, her lips crash against your own, she kisses you deeply, pure anguish and want. It snatches the air right out of your lungs, but you have no desire to pull away.

Your tongue makes contact with her own and Cersei moans, pulling you impossibly closer by the nape of your neck.

Your body pressed up against hers as she leans against the wall. You were now both panting into the kiss, all aggression and desire.

You had not been with Cersei like this in a decade, and yet there was a complete lack of uncertainty. It felt right, you were certain that you are meant to be with her like this, until the end of your days.

However, there still exists voice deep within you, whether it is pride or reason, you cannot say for certain. but it urges you to pull away, so you do.

The Queen chases your lips eagerly, but you pull back even further. “Cersei, stop. What is this, what are you doing?” You ask, every moment you spent without your lips on hers felt like pure agony.

“I just need you– please–” Cersei replies with a desperation you have never heard before, and this was enough to break you.

Any semblance of dignity vanishes into the very depths of yourself, all that's left is your deep and tortuous want for Cersei.

You kiss her again, rough and urgent, you are panting and groaning into each other's mouths. Cersei's hands immediately move to the hem of your breeches, she unlaces them in record time, slipping her hand inside.

You nearly lose it all when she wraps her fingers around the base of your cock, stroking it with such dexterity you fear your knees may give out.

“Gods–” You grunt, bucking your hips embarrassingly into her touch.

You find the strength to remove her hand from your breeches. Soon enough you slip them off, your slacks pooling around your ankles before you kicked them to the side.

You swiftly remove your own tunic as Cersei's trembling hands struggle to undo the laces of her dress.

Your patience wearing thin, you flip her around, indecently ripping the fabric open with one swift tug.

“Y/n–” Cersei scolds in response to your eagerness, glancing back at you with dissaproval, but her dress easily slips off her shoulders after that, her smallclothes follow suit.

The Queen is still facing away from you as you part her hair away from her neck, trailing open mouthed kisses against her hot flesh, as you reached a certain familiar spot, your teeth grazed the skin, before biting down on it briefly.

This earns a louder noise from Cersei, she is still trembling as she turns back around to face you, grabbing you firmly to pull you in for another sloppy kiss.

Lips still interlocked, the Queen walks you backwards onto the bed, Cersei doesn't waste another moment, straddling you as soon as you settled your rear on the edge of the bedding.

Your cock now stiff as a rod, poking at Cersei's entrance. The other woman begins moving her hips as you kissed, rubbing her cunt on the length of your shaft, coating it with her slick.

Your breath quickens, the sensation was maddening, you needed to be inside her now.

“Gods, I missed you.” You let it slip as your lips parted for a moment, but Cersei doesn't respond.

The Queen's grip on the nape of your neck moves to your hair as she grasps a handful of it, tugging your head back slightly. Her other hand travels south, she grips the base of your cock once more, this time lining it up to her entrance.

She begins lowering herself onto your length, Cersei moves quickly, with every inch that enters her, she lets out a gasp at the sensation. Soon you are sheathed inside of her to the hilt, and Cersei throws her head back, she releases an unrestrained moan, her hands now firmly on your shoulders.

She attemps to push you back against the bed, but you refuse to budge. Cersei relents, kissing you again as she moves her hips up and down the length of your cock. With every moan from Cersei you retaliate with a groan.

The feeling of her walls fluttering against your girth made you dizzy. The Queen felt so unbelievably good wrapped around your cock, you had forgotten just how intoxicating it was.

Now that you were experiencing it again, you never wanted it to end.

Vulgar noises of your coupling filled the room as Cersei moved herself desperately against your lap, your cock hitting just the right spots within her.

The Queen can feel her release already approaching, entirely overwhelmed by this she falls limp against you, but you manage to support her weight with minimal effort. Her hips still moving at a steady pace until it finally hits her, her orgasm washes over her like a wave.

Cersei cries out in pleasure, partially muffled against your neck, she holds onto you for dear life as her peak overcomes all her other senses, relentless and unforgiving. You feel her cunt clenching painfully around your cock, her short shallow breaths against your neck, she is trembling helplessly, and you never want to let her go.

“Seven hells.” The Queen breathes out, finally lifting her head to look at you.

Cersei's eyes were nearly glazed over, her chest heaving violently, but you were far from done with her.

You capture her lips with your own again, earning a content moan. You remained sheathed inside of her as you flipped your positions, now Cersei laid on the bed, with you on top of her. The other woman's gasp in surprise is muffled by your own mouth against hers.

Once again she moans into your mouth as you began your thrusts, deep and slow, you aim to feel every inch of her. Cersei wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you in even deeper.

The Queen gasps as your mouth found the swell of her breasts, your tongue leaving a trail of saliva as you expertly moved from one nipple to the other.

Your thrusts grow harsh and inconsistent as you felt your own climax building. Cersei's back arches, a deafening moan rips out of her.

You roughly placed your hand against her stomach, pinning her down against the bed as you continued to rut into her. Cersei was mewling and panting like a whore now as you used her for your own pleasure, heightening her own in the process.

The Queen finds just enough strength to pull you closer, her lips now against your ear.

“Tell me you love me.” Cersei pleads, and this takes you entirely by surprise, you slow your movements but you don't stop.

“What?” You ask, shaky, breathless.

“Just say it.” The Queen repeats amidst another moan, she clenches around your cock and the sound that emits from you then is guttural, primal.

You oblige without asking further questions.

“I love you, Cersei” You speak, from the heart, damning the consequences.

With that, Cersei reaches her peak again, her nails digging into the flesh of your back as she comes. The feeling of her perfect cunt milking your cock, accompanied by her writhing body underneath you was enough to push you over the edge.

As you attempt to pull out, Cersei kept her legs firmly wrapped around your waist, holding you in place. You are not given the opportunity to question it as it was already too late, you moaned as you released your load deep inside her, painting her womb with your seed.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

Nearly a candlemark has passed since your coupling and neither you or Cersei have said more than a few words.

Simply embracing each other under the sheets, she rests her head against your shoulder, tracing circles absentmindedly with her finger against your abdomen.

This position was achingly familiar, almost as if no time had passed.

Cersei soon moves her hand further up, she traces her fingers across your bottom lip before running her thumb down the bridge of your nose. The sensation earns a chuckle out of you, you finally had to reach up to remove her hand, guiding it away from your face.

Cersei's stare betrays an intensity that makes your heart constrict painfully in your chest.

Still unspeaking, it was your turn to explore her body, but you don't get very far, your fingertips trace the faint bruising on her neck, the marks left by your own cruelty.

The Queen then shuts her eyes, she doesn't allow herself to look upon your guilt any longer. Wrapping her arm across your torso, nuzzling her face against your shoulder.

“I'm not letting you go– never again.” Cersei mutters, and the smile that tugs on your lips is one of relief and acceptance.

You don't supress the urge to plant a lingering kiss on her temple, one the Queen allows herself to melt into.

#cersei lannister smut #cersei x reader #g!p reader #cersei lannister #ned stark #stark reader #fem stark reader #ned stark x reader #catelyn stark #g!p

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crownedtargaryen · 1 year

Text

tear you apart. modern werewolf!cregan

pairing: modern werewolf!cregan x reader (a/n): i’ll be honest i really didn’t wanna write this cause i am in no way a cregan enjoyer (idk why i just cant get into him) so im sorry if this feels lazy CW: p in v sex, breeding kink, mentions of blood, overstimulation if you squint, kinda a lot tbh he’s a beast. prns: she/her words: 1.3k tag list: @clairacassidy @ad-astra-again @hopelesswritergall @howyouloveyourdragon @daenerysapologist @twizzy123

Being with Cregan Stark was both a treat and a nightmare. A popular hockey player with a more reserved girl seemed like an unexpected match. If his team wins a game, you sit on the couch at this party. You watch the sweaty and shaggy men loiter and flirt loosely, Cregan trying to include me. You stare at him and smile as you softly reject his request. Though, he was a bit of an idiot when it came to understanding others' feelings, completely blind to negative emotions.

He's lucky he's attractive.

You sit on the couch, idly sipping the alcoholic beverage that rests in the red cup between your fingers, staring at the boys. With his shaggy dark hair and beautifully shaped facial hair, Cregan stood out. His toned muscles gleamed in the minimal light around him. You couldn't help the swelling feeling between your legs. Every time sex was brought up, Cregan avoided urges like the plague. You were unsure why since he'd called you his "destined mate." If you both were so destined to be together, why does he avoid intimacy like a plague?

That is, until tonight.

Something in him changes as he comes down from some high, his chest heaving as his hands clench into fists. Robb is nearby and spots a behavioral change. Quickly, you watch as he rushes towards Jon, whose eyes widen in surprise. What's happening? Did he get hurt?

You get up, heading for Cregan to check on him. But, before you reach him, a strong hand pulls you back. You turn around, looking at Jon Snow's familiar face, Cregan's distant half-cousin.

"We're leaving," he says sternly, his voice smooth like silk. You shake your head looking at Cregan. You only see him as Robb drags him off, his eyes fiery and full of something you can't place. When he looks at you, he's practically clawing Robb to get to you, a power trip between the two.

"I came here with Cregan! I can't just leave him," you snap, Jon's brows furrowing as he grabs you tighter and forcefully drags you off to his car.

"I'll get your things, just stay here and behave," he says, pushing me into the back seat and getting into the front, not saying another word. Despite your abundance of questions, Jon stays silent and stern. Is Cregan okay? What's happening? Why can't I see him? This is unfair, you have to tell me! Jon doesn't budge, continuing his one-track mind as you fall quiet, not dwelling on what you've just seen.

When you walk into the Stark house, it's a scattered mess. Arya and Sansa are whispering to each other, which silences when you enter, Robb, Jon, and Ned are all rushing around from Cregan's room to the kitchen, and Catelyn is sitting with the girls in dead silence. You hear the women ushering you to join them, to stay downstairs, but you don't obey. Slowly, you walk up the stairs to Cregan's room.

A shaky hand touches the hot doorknob as you open it slowly, spotting Cregan tied to the bed with anything they can, his chest bare and heaving desperately as his eyes hold a soft yellow hue that glares into your soul. Your heart pounds, closing the door and locking it quickly, rushing to Cregan and furrowing your brows.

"What the fuck is this?! What's going on?" You say with pained confusion. Cregan whimpers under your eyes like a dog, his jaw clenching as his hips push into the air. That's when you notice. His hands hold claws, sharp like an animal’s, yellow-hued eyes staring eagerly into yours, and his raging hard-on that hurt in his pants. It all made sense; why he was tied down, why the women stayed away while the men went around.

He wasn't a human.

You take your hand, placing it on Cregan's cheek, his body blazing hot as he moans and nuzzles into your palm, taking in the scent of your wrist. His k-9 teeth seemed more prominent now as he nipped at your skin with a desperate look in his eyes. You shiver with delight, biting your lip and moving in to kiss him, a banging on the door trailing your thoughts away.

Fuck it.

You ignore the knock, untying Cregan. Within seconds he's on you, his arms cradling your torso and his clawed hands trailing up your shirt. He cups at your breasts through your bra's flimsy lace.

"Mine," he growls lowly, pressing his hard-on to your clothed cunt, grinding his hips slowly. "Breed. Please." He looks at you, only barely restraining himself from forcing this upon you.

You moan in delight, tilting your head back as you return his waist movements tenfold, nodding quickly. "Yes, your mate," you whisper, lips parting slightly as a pathetic whimper escapes your lips. "Take me, Cregan. Please." The plea barely escapes your lips as he pins you against the bed, hands ripping off your clothing like an animal. You ignore the banging on the door, shivering at the heat rushing onto your skin, Cregan tearing off your underwear and pants, tossing the torn-apart clothing to the floor as she sheds his trousers, underwear nowhere to be seen. He grabs your thighs, pulling you up roughly and his mouth immediately abusing your throbbing cunt, tongue lapping at your folds and rolling in circles on your swollen clit, a euphoric groan emerging from him as those yellow eyes glare into yours, forcing you to keep your gaze locked with his. His tongue plunges inside of you, juices squirting onto the muscle as he fists his cock eagerly, grinding into his palm. You sink into the sheets, panting desperately and rolling your hips into his mouth, your thighs trembling. His claws dig into your thighs, harsh enough to prick the skin and draw small bits of blood.

With a filthy pop, he moves off your cunt too early for your liking. But, his regard for your pleasure is now extinct. You can't speak before his cock plunges into you. It took everything out of him not to rail at you. His eyes stare into yours, pushing you into a mating press and his eyes attempting to not roll back in his skull, sweat dripping from his tan muscles and down his freckled shoulders and face, shaggy dark hair dangling in front of your face as his cross necklace dangles in your face, almost taunting you to sink into this sin. Slowly, you grind your hips to tell him to start moving, which he gladly does with an animalistic growl, keeping deep and lustful eye contact as he slams his hips to yours, filthy wet slapping noises filling the room as his lips move to your neck, nipping at the fragile skin.

"Could rip you apart," he whispers, excitement coursing through you. "Tear your pretty body to shreds if I wanted." He slams harder into your cunt, making you whimper and scream his name, clawing red swelling marks into his skin. Cregan loves it, pressing his forehead to yours and huffing loudly. Growls mixed with heavy grunts escaped him. Since this was your first time in ages, you knew you couldn't last anymore.

His hips snap into yours as you tell him you're getting closer to your blissful finale. He ignores you, pounding it just as hard, slamming into that spongy spot inside you, pounding it when you squeal his name. When you see white, you feel him bite in an oddly specific spot on your neck, hard enough to draw blood. He licks up the red metallic fluid eagerly.

"That's it... Fuckin' take my pups in that filthy cunt. Fuck..." He groans in your ear, body trembling in delight.

"Cre- Cregan, stop- I-I can't take any more." You cry, overwhelmed with pleasure. He ignores your pleas, riding out his orgasm just as rough as he started, bursting inside you.

Gradually, he slows, looking into your eyes and panting heavily, keeping his cock stuffed in your cunt. With a loving kiss, he gently wipes away your tears.

"Don't pass out yet, I'm not done with you. You're all mine tonight, Cub. All. Mine."

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queenvhagar · 7 days

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"Catelyn knew how stubborn her son could be. 'A bastard cannot inherit.'

'Not unless he's legitimized by a royal decree,' said Robb. 'There is more precedent for that than for releasing a Sworn Brother from his oath.'

'Precedent,' she said bitterly. 'Yes, Aegon the Fourth legitimized all his bastards on his deathbed. And how much pain, grief, war and murder grew from that? I know you trust Jon. But can you trust his sons? Or their sons? The Blackfyre pretenders troubled the Targaryens for five generations, until Barristan the Bold slew the last of them in the Stepstones. If you make Jon legitimate, there is no way to turn him bastard again. Should he wed and breed, any sons you may have by Jeyne will never be safe.'

'Jon would never harm a son of mine.'

'No more than Theon Greyjoy would harm Bran or Rickon?'

Grey Wind leapt up atop King Tristifer's crypt, his teeth bared. Robb's own face was cold. 'That is as cruel as it is unfair. Jon is no Theon.'

'So you pray'" (Catelyn and Robb Stark, discussing the possibility of legitimizing Jon Snow, p. 629, A Storm of Swords).

This moment demonstrates a few things about the world of ASOIAF. First, despite Catelyn knowing Jon his whole life, she still expects the worst from him, largely due to the fact that he is a bastard. In this world, bastards are set apart from the rest. They are viewed as less than other trueborn people. Second, bastards can be legitimized by royal decree, and this is the only way a bastard can ever inherit. Third, a claimant to a seat of power, especially one with an insecure or atypical claim, may have to remove other claimants to secure their power, so if Jon or his children ever wanted the throne of Winterfell over Robb's line, they would have to take action to make sure none of Robb's blood could sit the throne.

So how does this inform us about the context of the Dance of the Dragons? First, it demonstrates the views that people have about the Strong boys and their mother. The very idea of Rhaenyra birthing bastards and trying to put them into lines of succession would have a negative effect on her politically. People would take issue with her and her sons having power. Second, the Strong boys could have been legitimized by royal decree, but they never were. They are still illegitimate in the eyes of the law and the people. Despite having a huge amount of political power and the backing of the king, their legitimization was never considered. Third, if Rhaenyra wanted to pursue her claim despite its rocky ground (due to her marrying Daemon, having three obvious bastards, killing Velaryons, being a woman, etc) she would have to get rid of all other claimants to secure her power, especially those with potentially stronger claims, meaning the king's sons and their sons would not have been safe. Rhaenyra and Daemon had already been willing to kill to secure their power in the past, and previously Rhaenyra asked for Aemond to be tortured to protect herself and her sons, so it is clear that someone on Team Black would take action to secure their own power.

#asoiaf #hotd #pro team green #anti team black

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rise-my-angel · 10 months

Text

Heart of the Great Wolf

7 - Shadow of a Fiery Stag

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

Length: 11.3k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, slow burn, nighmares, blood and violence, discussions of warfare torture and executions, character death, smut, p in v, light bondage, slight dom/sub dynamics, references to unwanted and aggressive sexual advances, canon divergence

Notes: Based mostly off the show, but certain sub plots here are pulled right from the books instead. Previous chapter here, series masterlist here.

It was during a night like this when you had been at the opposite end of this kind of attack. The rain that night had been heavy and only grew heavier the longer you were out there. Most would have given up by that point, called out their surrender or simply made their way back home on their own. That was not you however, not that night. Your teeth were shattering and your clothes were so soaked through it would take days to dry but what kept you was blind, dumb, determination. Or stubbornness.

It was a sweltering air of summer in that year, unlike now where the heat was dying to what everyone knew would be a longer winter. Your back was pressed against a tree as your eyes peeled around you trying to see in the darkness. You appeared to be alone but you were no fool on that. There was a wolf somewhere in these woods. There had been two as they hunted you and that of the sea, but one your partner in crime was caught, and the first wolf had given up once the rain grew heavier.

It was a game, really. To the younger Starks, it would be fun and easy. Chase them and you around the clearing until they tired out or the sun begun to dim and Lady Catelyn would bring them all in. But between the four of you, three all around eighteen and you at sixteen, the game was much more competitive. If the runners could hide out until midnight, well honestly you hadn’t remembered what the winning bet was for. But it had boiled down to the two teenagers who hadn’t grown up in the wolfswood had to last until midnight without getting caught by the two wolves who knew it like the backs of their hand.

The rain started to fall when they caught Theon, both Starks all but charging him into the mud and once the rain grew harder? Robb tried to call it, but when you wouldn’t come out, considering it to be a ploy? Well it seemed Jon took that stubbornness of yours as a challenge.

Now it was nearing midnight and the rain hard as anything, you knew Jon was still searching for you, never trying to call out or coax you to him.

No you were the prey being stalked by a quiet, and stealthy wolf and you had the great feeling he was toying with you. Purposely letting you get close to winning before he striked. From here, if you ran as fast as you could, you just might make it to the small lake a bit ahead and then you knew how to get back to the castle easily from there.

Your eyes had narrowed, looking to the sides and in front but nothing was there. The tree was thick enough to hide you entirely so by the time he spotted you, you might have made enough of a head start. You had to risk it, and risk it you did.

Taking a deep breathe you begun to sprint in the direction of the lake, only to be grabbed almost instantly by two strong arms yanking your back into their chest. You could feel Jon’s smirk, he didn’t even have to say anything. He had snuck up on you, and hid on the other side of the very tree you were hiding behind, and you never heard a thing.

Struggling against the far stronger one, you huffed out with a laugh. “Alright, alright, you win, now let me go.”

Oh he was definitely smirking, you could hear it in his voice as he spoke lowly into your ear, only in this instance for some reason you picked up on the raspiness of it. A husk in his voice that had been there for a long time, but for some reason as it growled in your ear it made you still in his hold. “I think you’re forgetting who the wolf is here.”

If he noticed your sudden change in demeanour, he didn’t show it. Your voice a little more out of breathe for someone who hadn’t even broken into a spring yet. “Stags are bigger then wolves, Snow.”

His hold previously pinning your arms to your sides, moved gently to unravel as they rested against your upper arms. Him not having moved you away from him, nor backing up to give you space. Once again, the deep raspiness of his voice made your breathe hitch. “Stags are male. Besides, you’re too small to be one anyways, you’re more like a deer. You know what deer are to wolves, Baratheon?”

Jon’s tone putting a mocking emphasis on your own last name. Turning your head slightly, you could see his dark curls, quite long at that time and soaked as they brushed against the side of your cheek. If you looked any further, you may have caught his grey eyes, so dark at that moment they could’ve been black. Your voice was higher pitched, and it was obvious to both of you something in the air had changed but you didn’t have the words in your mind to pin why. “Prey?”

As he chuckled, you tried to take one last chance. Not really for the sake of this little game, but maybe beacuse your head was overwhelmed. Even over the rainfall, he was close enough you could smell him and it made you dizzy to find that you liked it. But Jon wasn’t one to give up, as you broke free of his hands, you only made it a few feet before he called your name.

Coming up behind, he grabbed and spun you to press your back against a tree as he stood in front of you, only when you looked up at him it wasn’t Jon.

Something tall enough you had to stretch your neck to see, and staring back down were two shockingly blue eyes that glowed against the darkness of the figure. A freezing wave casted around you like a fog and in the distance you heard the echoing cries of a baby.

Your memory having turned to something new, playing the events out right until it turned into a nightmare of cold you didn’t understand. It was that dream that you thought of as you sat atop your horse in the rain.

Only this time, the two wolves were on your side and you were the one doing the hunting. Ahead of you were a good number of Lannister men, lead by Stafford Lannister. An easy job, even as they outnumbered your six thousand men they were poorly trained and with even worse command. Men were beside you, on the front ready as you and the King in the North were, but he had one trick up his sleeve first.

You were staring ahead, but the small glance you took to the side as you waited out Grey Wind’s attack, you swore for a split second Robb’s eyes looked almost white. But then an aggressive growl rang out, and whatever you think you saw was once more his blue ones, dark and sharp in the night.

The watchmen ripped apart by the direwolf, and the men led forward by who some had begun calling The Young Wolf. The King in the North, Robb Stark, the Young Wolf ravaging the Lannisters throughout the south with his Queen, his Silent Stag at his side.

They had put up little fight, at least in respect to what you thus far had been used too. The dark and the rain had confused them, making all the worse by the orders given to those acting as archers just before. “Kill the men, not their horse. A dead horse is good cover in the dark.”

The light came quick and the victory came quicker. Still freshly painted with blood, you walked through the scattered remains on the field beside Maege Mormont, keeping track in your mind of the enemy survivors being counted for. “That’s what? At least five of them for one of ours?”

Nodding with narrowed as as you looked around, “So it seems.”

The large woman next to you seemed to have sensed the mood, “It takes getting used to, your grace.” You turned with a raised eyebrow in question as she nodded with her chin to the dead around you. “All this. Every fight it feels like it never gets better, but one day you’re standing on the winning side and your too focused on how many of you, ‘ya got left then focusing on how many you killed.”

She took a pause as she looked you over, the distant and stoic expression she had started to learn wasn’t that of a cold inside or uncaring. Just more of a shell that’s been long taught to cover you on the outside. “And if you ask me, the longer it takes to get used to it, it means you’re still human in the inside. Treasure it while you still have it, your grace.”

Both of your eyes followed a path in the distance to where Robb was having a similar chat with Roose Bolton, but you both could tell there was some disagreement being discussed. “Some lose it faster then others.”

Nodding with a slight grimace you turned to her, your hands resting on your hips as you both watched the pair for a few seconds. “You know, I can’t tell if I respect him or am terrified of him.”

An easy laugh left her that was more of a knowing “Ha” then anything. Maege took a step towards you leaning down closer to your level. “Bolton terrifies most. I can bet if it weren’t for the King, he would’ve been hanging and flaying open those Lannisters the second the fighting stopped.”

Jaw clenching you tore your eyes away from him, “As long as they have his sisters, he won’t risk doing anything that gives Joffery and Cersei any more reason to hurt them.”

Raising an eyebrow at you, “You think they’re hurting those girls?”

You could still see the look in Joffery’s eyes that day in the throne room. An unhinged look that only added up to all the separate times you’d seen him act out so egregiously. “That little psycho isn’t above dragging them into the throne room and having his sorry excuse of a Kingsgaurd beat them as much as he can get away with.”

It weighed on Robb a lot. Knowing that they suffered with each of his own victories, that in his campaign to free them and his people for good he has to sacrifice their well being. It was something you know Catelyn was struggling with. Trying to convince her son that they will give them her daughters for Jaime, but you know handing him over is too risky.

Information, details, secrets, and worst of all, you’d lose a hefty leverage over the Lannisters knowing that they would never grant the same in return. The North loses, people die, Robb surrenders in any way and they will drag you him into the public and end you both just as they did Ned Stark.

Continuing down, it was nice to have found a companion in Maege. She was large, brash, unafraid to speak her mind to just about anyone while keeping a good sense about her. You had asked if all Mormonts were as towering as her and Dacey, to which she gave a pretty good laugh. “Most of ‘em seem to be. All but my youngest, Lyanna she’s a tiny thing but hell if she makes up for it in that mouth of hers.”

You smirked, “Wonder where she could possibly get that from. You have all girls?”

Nodding there was a pride in her face, “Aye, and thank the gods for it. Men in this family were starting to drive us up the wall, now it’s at least a little more quiet.”

You had kept to yourself and only Robb that her nephew, Jorah was a spy working with the now single living Targaryean. He had already disgraced their house enough you didn’t think they needed one more slight added to their pile. It already was a stain that left them bitter, what he did. “My brother always said I was the short tempered one, but I’ve never met a man who could yell quite as loud as him.”

Noting the amount of your own dead, gathering names and families to write for as Olyvar had come to your side at the ready. Maege had glanced at you with an amused smirk, but you shook her off with a close to flat smile of your own. Robb had accepted him, but he hadn’t the patience for a squire that wasn’t quite use to knowing when to leave him alone.

So he had started coming to you, you having no qualms about sending him off on any task just to keep the boy busy. “Be sure to write to Lord Frey yourself about Ser Stevron. I’m sure he’d more appreciate hearing it from one of his own boys.”

“Right away, your grace.” Maege laughed as he took off and you found yourself chuckling alongside her quite freely. “He’s hard working, I’ll give him that but I have no idea how Walder Frey means to make a knight out of that boy.”

“The most aggressive I’ve ever seen him get is when one of the goats bashed him in the ass a few days ago. Think it made him drop his grace’s meal judging by how much he was trying to yell at the thing.” You smirked, that may explain how strangely apologetic he was one evening about being late, when in reality neither you nor Robb had noticed. There was plenty to go over keeping you from noticing the time.

Glancing her over you asked her, “How are you with livestock?”

Her eyes narrowed in question before shrugging. “I can carrel them better then that boy can, that’s for sure.”

Nodding you turned to face her properly. “Good, I want you and Dacey to take your men and start moving along the lines and capturing as much livestock as you can, start getting them into the riverlands so they can get a jump on some before they get too slim or the Lannisters pick them off first.”

An easy grin on her face, “And here I thought you were going to give me something hard, that’s not even a challenge. I’ll get them ready to go by afternoon.”

“Keep an eye out the closer you get. With us heading to Ashemark, then the Crag, Tywin’ll assume Stannis is going for the Stormlands meaning he’ll start heading west for us. Don’t be in his cross hairs when he does.” You glanced around again, “There’s too many men here even with you here.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You felt thankful she knew you well enough that she put her hand out. Yours clashing into hers with a steady force as she gave it a shake.

You held it there for a moment as you gave her a much more easy going look, “Don’t get killed, Mormont.”

“Nor you, your grace.”

Taking a moment to look over the field alone, you went over in your head trying to organize just who was where and expected by when. Starting to understand how your father always seemed to wrapped up in paperwork, you think you needed a tome full just to keep track of your own men. Greatjon Umber should be close to the Gold mines at Nunn’s Deep, while the Glovers and Karstarks had moved to start raiding along the coast.

“You seem troubled, your grace.”

Your palm having been running over your forehead, you rose up in surprise to find Roose Bolton approaching you. Shrugging you could spot Grey Wind in the distance behind him, suspiciously keeping you in his eyeline it seemed. He’d been keeping his eyes on you as much as he always did Robb now and you were finding the sight of the giant direwolf close to comforting in a way. Turning your attention back to Bolton, “Not troubled. Just struggling to find a way to keep track of things without feeling like my head’s going to explode.”

Chuckling, beside you, you always found him to be an odd man. He was someone with a commanding presence, full of a calm respect, and offered as much as he did listened well. And yet part of him spooked you to the core. “I’m afraid that feeling only gets worse with age. Finding a good outlet helps.”

Face remaining impassive, “And what kind of outlet does a man such as yourself engage in?” Quiet ran between both of you, the tension growing a tinge thicker as he looked as calm as you did, only a single flicker of his eyes betrayed his thoughts as he glanced to where you could distantly hear Robb speaking to a group of men. “He told you no, I am to guess?”

“He did. His grace dies not condone the use of torture, even now in times of war.” There wasn’t discontent in his tone or face, but certainly his words put you at a feeling of unease that was rather similar to what Robb had previously felt at such suggestions.

“You torture a person long enough, and they’ll tell you anything you want just to make it end. Even if it’s nothing but lies, and we’d be none the wiser.” You thought not of rumours of Dragonstone, and how all too much of it was vastly outrageous and some inhumane. It was easier to tell yourself none of it was true here as well.

Roose conceded, following as you both walked. “I must say I am surprised, your grace. I didn’t think a woman such as yourself would have been raised to believe in fighting war with kindness.”

The smell of blood and rotting death festered all around the field, it stuck in the air and would attach itself to you for as long as this war went on. “I don’t believe in that, my lord. Not at all. I think if you’re too kind then you risk letting any fear slip passed by those looking to take advantage of it. But this?” Passing in front of you, a small trio of Silent Sisters passed on, all with gloves drenched in blood and bodies to follow.

The two of you share a glance as you both waited, giving them space to work. “This isn’t kindness, though. And the King has no intention of showing them any.” He looked at you with a lighter expression, eyes a bit more open to your words. “If he was showing these men kindness, then Lord Tywin would have no reason to hide away in Harrenhal, would he?”

Roose tilted his head slightly at you, and in a moment of surprise, you recognized the same strange unspoken pride that you had seen from your own father. In earlier years, you had said when being taught the Great Houses of Westeros, you couldn’t imagine what growing up under “those kinds of people” would be like, when identifying the flag of a flayed open man of House Bolton.

But as you stood with the man now, you started to think maybe you already did. It just took your own father a bit longer to get to the cruelty of it all. Interrupting your thoughts he spoke, “And yet he sent Lady Catelyn to broker a truce with Renly Baratheon.”

He noticed how easily you smirked at such a comment, a sight so rare on the silent Queen. “Renly has had everything given to him by others, my lord. Robert gave him Storms End when he was only a child, he spent his days on the small council laughing and joking with Petyr Baelish instead of taking it seriously, and he has never been involved in anything more violent then getting knocked off his horse like a fool.” Arms crossed over your chest, you could see the men in the distance all looking to Robb with almost worship. “Renly has as many men as he does, because he thinks all a ruler needs to be is charming and his men will do the rest. I think sending her was the safer option, he isn’t really a leader who responds well to anything that might actually intimidate him.”

Was this how your father felt? A love for his brother turned sour as he was wronged more and more, and watched him get rewarded for it? The men of the Stormlands would have turned to Stannis most likely if not for Renly, and of Highgarden? You couldn’t be sure. The allegiance of the Tyrells seemed to be something that eluded you.

“It’s all just a game to Renly. And it won’t last forever.”

You had been sitting partially atop the table, your legs up with knees bent against the seat of a chair as you read and reread the contents of the raven. Robb watched you try not to break into a smirk as the returned Lord Karstark stood present. “And you are sure this was meant for-”

“Lord Damon of House Marbrand, your grace. No doubt about it. The details match what your scouts have reported.” He explained, turning to address the King himself. “A right fuck up, these southern men can’t even read, now.”

Robb much more freely joined in the amusement Lord Karstark had brought to you with a smirk. “Thank you, my lord. I’m sure the Lannisters would thank you as well for such a prompt delivery. If you would give us the room if you would.”

As the room fell quiet your face fell into your palm. “Everything I’ve heard about Ser Amory Lorch, and suddenly him not being able to read makes a whole lot more sense.”

Coming to your side, Robb leaned back against the table, grabbing the letter from you with a mix of amusement in his tone. “By the time Lord Tywin realizes it, we’ll have taken Ashemark already.” A raven had been sent to Lord Marlyn of House Dormand, keen eyes being able to tell the general direction which a raven has been sent from one of Karstark’s men recognized a flight path coming from the direction of where they knew Tywins forces had been pushed back too.

It wouldn’t have even passed them at all had it been sent to House Marbrand of Ashemark like the letter was addressed. Details of infantry movement telling both of Lannister forces pushing back out of Riverrun, garrisoned across the river, and of instructions to the very place your own forces were marching onto. “We started writing in code to avoid this.”

“We were also ten years old, and afraid of our parents finding out what pranks we wanted to play on our siblings.” His voice trailing off in fondness at the thought. It was after your first visit to Winterfell, Robb and yourself would get caught the most getting into trouble and by the time you were to return to Dragonstone, both of you came up with a way to plan out things without getting caught.

As you looked over at him, it was as if a wave of softness came over your heart. The gentle smile on his lips and the bright eyes that always spoke so much in them. It wasn’t fair, the only thing that finally brought you together so deeply being war. A war started for a father he still lost, and a family that was scattered across the rest of the realm and it all now weighed on his shoulders. Any loss, any mistake, any bad thing to happen all fell on him no matter what now and you knew there would be no way for anyone to understand what he’s truly given up to do this.

He knew it was his responsibility to protect his family, and he knows that there is no losing this war that doesn’t end with him ending up beside his father. Robb can’t just give everything up for his sisters and surrender, because he knows that his surrender won’t mean anything to the Lannisters. Not after what they’ve shown themselves to truly be. He had no choice anymore, this was his duty and he has to do it.

“We do not chose our destiny. We must do our duty, no? Great or small, we must do our duty.”

You could hear him even from here. His words ringing out in lesson after lesson, hammering it into your head until you could say it backwards in your sleep. It wasn’t your fathers choice to inherit a throne he was never meant to have, and it wasn’t Robb’s choice to lead his people who had spent generations being shoved away and forgotten by the very throne your father now sought after.

Robb gently calling your name brought you back to the present, standing tall over you once more with a narrowed look in his eyes. Just as he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, and just as you felt the gentle brush of his hand on your waist you lifted a hand up to gently cup his jaw. Pulling his lips to yours as the rush of comforting warmth ran through your veins once more.

Almost too sweet and innocent of a kiss for where you both were, one that felt so much like the gentle kiss in front of the Weirwood. So many women in your life told you that your duty was simple, you were a highborn lady. You would marry a high lord, have his children, should you be so lucky have a quiet and simple life in his home. But you and Robb were nowhere near that.

Far from home surrounded by a war that depended on him and all you had brought from your side was a broken family who hates each other. Pulling back, he could see the trouble in your eyes but the sounds of someone entering broke the spell between you. You had at least, gotten more used to not feeling so flustered at Robb’s lack of care about showing such physical affection in front of his men.

Keeping his hand on your waist as you stood up and turned to face Brynden Tully, “Pardon the interruption, your grace.” Pausing he looked at you, even in his normally hardened expression you could see the apology for being the one to deliver it. “I thought you should hear it before the rest of the camp start squawking about it. Renly Baratheon is dead.”

Your heart both stopped and pounded at the same instance, a dizzy feeling flushing your mind as you slowly brought your palms down to brace against the table in front of you. You’re glad it was him who delivered it, a man who at least wouldn’t take any offence to the cold roughness in your tone. “How?”

As Catelyn entered the tent, you at least put together how he found out so fast. “Maybe we should speak in private.” Glancing at her uncle, you shook your head, nodding for him to come in.

“Stay.” Brynden didn’t question it, as he nodded to Robb still behind you, the hand on your waist wrapping more around your back as he came to stand more next to you. He understood that if he continued to find some semblance of solace in his mother you at least were starting to find an amusing kind of understanding with the older Tully.

Catelyn seemed to say something quiet to someone outside the tent before Brynden closed you all in as she looked to you, almost confused. Your name coming out in a cracked tone as she found the words trying to form. “I don’t know how to even describe this without sound like I lost my mind..”

Robbs hand around your waist tightened as he could see your knuckles turning white as you tensed your hands on the wooden surface. Your jaw set so much it looked like it would break. “Try, mother.” He was more quiet beside you, but in a serious tone.

Exasperated, she stepped closer to you on the other side. “We were speaking in his tent, when the wind picked up and...” Her voice trailed off as her head turned away, only to see yours snap up with a flash of something you knew she couldn’t quite read behind them. “This, black smoke seemed to just..fly in as it..” She found no doubt in your eyes, so she only looked to you. “It looked like it turned into a man, and stabbed Renly right through the chest before disappearing.”

“Cat-”

“I know how it sounds, Uncle. Trust me, I do. But it happened right in front of my eyes, there was no mistakening it. The woman I came back with, she saw it happen as well. One of his kingsgaurd, no doubt they’ll blame it on her but I promise you, that’s what I saw.” Your eyes had trailed down to focus on nothing in particular on the table.

Whispers in your head, images in your mind, and nightmares you’ve never spoken of all seemed to make this sound like the more rational thing. You could hear Robb and Brynden try to find reason with her that she was mistaken, when Catelyn once more said your name. “There is one more thing. The woman with me, she didn’t just see it. She claims she saw the...figure in the shape of the person who did it.”

The hesitancy in her voice, and you felt something constrict around you. Being at war with him was one thing, but this? No, there was no way. Your father would never stoop to something like this. Ned Stark’s words in the small council chambers that day sung in your ear, “You’ll dishonour yourself forever if you do this.”

The silence was stifling before you glanced to Brynden. “Do we know where his forces have moved too?” Walking over to where the plans had been laid out, he leaned over it as you came around to his side. Robb giving his mother a stern glance to drop it, to let him deal with this.

“If our scouts are correct, then most of them are headed to Stannis’s side. Except for the Tyrells, who we haven’t heard where they ran off too.” Your eyes fell onto Storm’s End, he wouldn’t risk going from there. The charge from Dragonstone to Kings Landing was right in his path and he knew those waters better then the Lannisters did.

Robb beside you came to the other side. “I know where they’ll go.” Looking up you could see him catching your eye. “You said that Renly had been trying to find a way to get Margaery Tyrell at Robert’s side, right?” Nodding slowly, you tried to clue in the dots he was, but you couldn’t push past the thought. “Robert dies, Renly declares himself King and Margaery his Queen. So where is the next best place they could think to go that’d give them that advantage?”

Catelyn was more unsure. “But if they already sided against the Lannisters once-”

Robb with no doubt in his tone, once more an easy shift to that of a real leader. “What do the Tyrells have that is more important to Tywin Lannister then gold or men?”

You bit your tongue as you tried to keep your breathe even as Brynden answered for you, “Food.”

As you exited the tent, you were met with a flash of a darkish gold shine leading up to a face you hadn’t seen before. Trying to place her but coming up short, “My Lady, I assume I’m correct in saying you must the one who came with Lady Catelyn?”

Her voice was calm, polite, and as formal as one could ever hope for. “I am, my lady. My name is Brienne of Tarth-”

Coming up beside you was Brynden, “Pardon me,” more stern then you had expected from him, but he moved right through her mid sentence regardless. “But this isn’t your lady, she is the King in the North’s wife. That is, she is our Queen.” A recognition painted in her eyes, and something must have clued in for her.

So this is the woman who thinks your father was behind this. Whatever was in her mind, she found it in her to push aside as she nodded to you. “My apologies. You have my sorry for the passing of King Renly, rest assured your uncle was well loved by all of his followers.”

“Followers that all ran to Stannis once he passed.” Onlookers had noticed tension between the three of you, but all but none would dare interrupt. “And it takes more then just calling yourself King to make you one.”

Something irked inside of the woman and you almost were just itching to have her let it out. In a stroke of likely good luck, rings of “Your grace” spoke up as Robb approached. Giving a nod to Brienne with nothing but a polite but firm look in his eye. “Pardon the interruption my lady,” Hard to see from where anyone was standing as Robb put a hand flat over your lower back with a slight pressure. “But the Queen and I have many things needing attending too. I’m sure you and my mother are tired from your travels. I’d ask you do well to make sure she settles in.”

Nodding, you could see her catching the eye of what likely was the woman in question behind Robb as she lost much of the tensity she spoke to with you. “Of course, your grace.”

As she begun walking off, you caught Catelyns eye whose gaze was full of a complex sympathy, not an easy position you’ve been put in in her mind. Robb having quietly sent his great uncle off with something he pushed you with him in the opposite direction. “If you’re going to scold me-”

Robb letting a small amused smile slide onto his face, “I wasn’t. I was going to say that we’ll talk about it in private later.” Sensing your muscles relaxing, he let go of you before moving up to stand in front of you closer. “I’m having Grey Wind stick to your side from now on.”

Your eyes narrowing in question he looked at you with a stern darker look in his eye not to argue about it right now. “I can’t ask you to-”

“I’m not asking.” His hand coming up to run over the side of your neck and jaw. “If I’m not with you, then I want him to be. And to answer your next question, yes this is an order.”

Something stirred underneath him that you could feel was worry, neither of you really had any reason not to believe her but without the time, energy or ability to question it further? You would have to accept for now that Robb would feel better if you weren’t left on your own without a watcher as trusted as himself or his own direwolf. Nodding, you ran your hand over the wrist closest to your face, sneaking under all the coverings to run your thumb across his pulse. Your voice for now, just that of a whisper. “Understood.”

You both nodded at the other, your eyes taking too long to look away as a protectiveness was clearly swimming in his, but was calm enough to not let it overtake. You both had things needing your attention, you would at least have to wait until tonight to give yourself a real chance to breathe.

Or not, in the ever growing day that provided nothing but issue. Only this time the offence was far more personal. And the anger felt in the room wasn’t just contained to fester on the inside of your heart, no Robb was a Stark and when that anger was felt it would wash over the camp like the sea.

The news came in from more then once place. Trusting in the man he’d known for over ten years, the person who oathed to stand by his side and had never shown an inkling he would do this. Theon had left in high spirits, and instead of giving Robb the news one answer or the other, Theon chose a third route. A brutal betrayal. From a man who swore himself to the King in the North, this was treason.

Greyjoys had landed in on the areas around the North, raiding and all the worse which comes with their warfare. Theon had led the Iron Islanders himself to the heart of Winterfell and had taken it for himself, taken it in the name of his father.

One King dies, and another took his place. Stamping out any alliance with the North that Robb had offered, an offer which respected their once rebellion to be independent again. Two kingdoms who had enough of the Souths choke hold on them, and yet when given the chance to work together Balon Greyjoy had instead sent his only living son to take the place he grew to be a man in.

You supposed, this must have been how those words felt, father. His daughter, a Queen to her husband the King in the North. You know knew what mocking words felt like. King Balon, and Prince Theon. You could take those words and wrap them around the decrepit old mans throat and leave him to choke and die in the sea he loved so much.

Robb sat with the words in his hand. His mother stood with a shock of her own of her own while you and Roose Bolton kept the only calm in the room as you stood next to where Robb sat, and Roose standing across from him. You were angry, and there was no question about it but Robb was angrier. “This cannot be true.”

Roose confirming what he had informed you of moments prior to bringing the news to the King, “We’ve had ravens from White Harbour, Barrowtown, and the Dreadfort. I’m afraid it is true.”

You could see it grow, if not even in his voice or eyes you could feel it in the air, the betrayal was more then an insult, it hurt. It truly hurt. “Why? Why would Theon..”

“Because the Greyjoys are treasonous whores.” Looking up to him, you tilted your head with a pointed look that with a flicker of his eyes you knew the man caught. Asking of Bran and Rickon, Roose confirmed only, “We’ve heard nothing of them. But Rodrick Cassel is dead.”

Your chest feeling a sinking weight in it like being dropped off a cliff, he had taken his home and murdered his men. Men he’d known his entire life. Robb was silent, but it was right at the edge and you knew there was no stopping it.

Catelyn with a waver in her voice, “I told you never to trust a Greyjoy.”

Your head rising up with a warning in your eyes, “Catelyn,” As quick as she realized the seriousness of your warning, Robb reached his limit on his own.

“I must ride North at once.”

Moving to step in front of him before he could reach the front you pushed him back, making him look at you. “Robb, we’re still at war-” Even from how many layers sat between your hands and his chest underneath you could feel his heart pounding and screaming at him as it rose up.

An almost furious desperation in his yell as he looked at you. “How can I call myself King if I can’t hold my own castle?” You felt him shake under as you kept him right there in front of you, knowing if no one stopped him, he’d take off right then and there. “How can I ask men to follow me if I can’t-”

Finding his eyes, you stood tall as your own voice was laced with it’s own anger, yet low enough to try and soothe that wolf clawing to come out. “You are King, and that means realizing that you cannot do everything yourself.” He wasn’t calm, and he felt no less in a need for bloodshed but Robb stood still and evened out his breathe as you looked at him with the calm he needed.

Catelyn stepped to you, “Let me go and talk to Theon.”

Both of you whipped your heads to her, “No.” The same look as you warned her with earlier, now in the sharpness of your tongue. “We won’t talk this out, he dies for this.” You felt in a tight grip that almost could be painful as he ran a thumb over your pulse, finding something relieving knowing that you were only as calm as for his sake. Your pulse ran fast, however.

The woman wasn’t made for war like this, not to this kind of violence. Never trust a Greyjoy she said, but even hearing from you that death is the only fate you saw fit left her a bit stunned.

Roose approached the pair of you, Robb not making any move from you. “Let me send word to my bastard at the Dreadfort. He can raise a few hundred men and retake Winterfell before the new moon.”

Glancing at you, it was hard to not soften at those eyes. Anger and hurt and it tore at you knowing there was nothing to take that back. You leaned up more, ensuring his eyes looked deep into your own. “We have the Lannisters on the run. If we turn around now, we lose everything.”

“My boy would be honoured to bring you Prince Theon’s head.”

Robb kept his hand on you, looking with a steady approval in his expression to Roose. “Tell your son Bran and Rickon’s safety is paramount. And Theon, I want him brought to me alive.” The question in the other man’s eyes melting out to an approval that for once, you both could stand on even ground over.

Robb’s voice almost rough enough to be a growl. “I want to look him in the eye and ask him why, and then I’ll take his head myself.”

The three of you stood in an approval, as he nodded. “I’ll send word at once.” He glanced to you, “Your grace, a word?”

For a moment it almost looked like he was split about you leaving him alone with his mother, the last thing Robb needed was to be told that something he had no way of knowing about, was this much of a mistake. But, it was your mistake too then. You both trusted him, and you both sent him off without the worry of betrayal. If it was on Robb it was on you.

Your eyes narrowed in question, but he just nodded. Not a day that left either of you without an exhausting rage. Stepping out into the night, you spotted Grey Wind sitting up in one direction and Roose in the other. Tilting your head to the direwolf, he seemed to be content to obey as he stood and followed close behind.

Eyeing the sight with a bemused curiosity he nodded to the wolf, “I see you’ve attracted the attention of more then one wolf, now.” You shrugged a shoulder as you glanced back with a fondness in your eye for him, apparently you did, didn’t you. What was the saying, two is coincidence and three is a pattern?

“I seem to have a knack for it.”

Chuckling, the pair of you begun walking through the camp. Looking to the men all around who deserved better then to have their King stabbed in the back by one they called their own. One that was raised by Ned Stark for more of his life then not. “I’ve underestimated you, your grace.” Raising an eyebrow to him, he gestured around the pair of you. “Every man here is a northerner, the first men blood runs strong in our own, and yet they all look to you like you’ve never been anything but one of them.”

“I may not have grown up there, but I’ve been in the Stark’s lives since I was eight. Lord Eddard treated me as well as his own daughters, and I’ve been friends with his eldest sons for as long as I’ve know them. Hell, I even married one of them.” Somberingly, you thought of Renly. How he would tell you that you were never suited for Kings Landing, that the only place that agreed with you was the North.

“You’ve even stood against your own father for them.” Roose seemed to sense the tightness in your throat at the subject but he pressed on. “Married or not, if it’s the Iron Throne Stannis wants, then it’s the throne he’ll fight for and I think most had dreaded that you would side with him.” You had a chance, you really did. But what had Ser Barristan told you? That your duty now was to your family?

“My place is beside my family, and the Starks were family long before I married the King. I suppose I should be grateful that more men aren’t looking at me waiting for my turn.”

What surprised you was the ease which he spoke next. “For a while, I was the only one.”

Heart picked up in speed as you paused in your step. Looking to him with a hesitant wide eyed look as he turned to face you. “Is that what you asked me out here for, my lord? To tell me Robb’s men don’t trust me?”

“Quite the opposite. You’re a hard woman to read, your grace. Everything I know of your father, I see very heavily in the way you carry yourself, and yet I see you in there like you’re the only one who can get through those Starks tempers.” You hadn’t really seen it that way. You just acted in the only way you knew, the only way you’ve ever been with Robb. Or any of them. Wolves can be temperamental, yet you’ve never once worried about that being directed at you.

Your own silence seemed to prove something of a point to him. “I’ve underestimated you for some time, and I’m happy to be proven wrong. I see quite a formidable foe in you, you just need room to let it out.” Looking at him with a more squinting look he stepped in closer, your eyes glancing to calm the slight growl from Grey Wind.

“What did you call me out here for?”

“My bastard has his own way of doing things. I could tell him to simply do only as he’s been told, or I could tell him to make the Greyjoy feel some of that pain the King he betrayed is feeling. And the Queen.” An impressed look on his face, truly something about him reminded you strangely of your father, finding things to be proud of that most would tell you to ease up with. “Sometimes, we must punish pain with pain. Leave our enemies with a bit of fear.”

You didn’t think you knew what he was trying to ask of you. Or if you liked it. As if what he saw in you was a darker feeling then you had ever intended to show. You had heard of what your father has done, and you’ve spent much time trying not to think of it. Not to consider the horror of fire that has been used as a tactic of fear.

Inhaling a steady breath you looked at him, “Tell your son that Bran and Rickon need to be safe and unharmed. Have him find that out for us, and then it’s Robb’s decision from there. He is the King, and it’s his choices I stand by, now and always. Is that all, my lord?”

There was a pause, as he seemed to be unsure of where you yourself was standing at his suggestion, but made his leave without a shred of discontent. “It is. Goodnight, your grace.”

He startled you as he stormed into the tent. Grey Wind immediately taking leave to stand out the door, and yet the look in Robb’s eyes was something you didn’t recognize. You had assumed you were here before him, but judging by his dressed down state he had only walked out for a short while. Tossing something you couldn’t see in his hands down onto the bed, Robb walked up to you.

Grabbing both sides of your face with his hands and pulling you up to him, his lips hovering just over yours as he almost seethed. You could feel him as you whispered, your hands gently finding his torso and resting flat. “Talk to me, my love.”

Eyes squeezing shut he shook his head before hissing out. “I need to hear it.” Stunned for a second as where this was coming from, Robb felt his patience wear thin, yanking you to press up against his front. Already you could feel how hard he was. “Tell me you’re with me.”

There was the hurt, the betrayal from someone he never expected and the need to turn that anger into something else. Gently you danced your fingers up to run them behind his neck and into his curls. “I’m with you, I always will be and I will keep telling you that everyday if I have too.”

His hands on you tightened before he slid one to rake through your hair. Nudging your cheek now with his nose before mumbling deeply into your ear. “You trust me?” Nodding, he ran his hand over your hair comfortingly, “I need you to say it.”

“I trust you.”

You should have been tipped off by how worked up he was, how much he was trying to keep himself in control as he held you but the softness of his voice was a trick that you truly fell for. One that revealed itself as Robb spun you around, holding your back firmly to his chest as he held both your hands at your sides like he was pinning them. “If I do anything you don’t like, I want you to tell me right away.”

Despite your nod, he leaned more over your shoulder grasping at your chin to turn you to look back at him. “I will, I promise.” You dared not move your hands.

Finally, a soft smile came over him. “That’s my good girl.” Leaning down Robb closed the gap and kissed your roughly. Pulling a gasping moan from your mouth into his almost right away as your fingers itched to reach back and run your hands through his hair. He lightly bit your bottom lip and as you opened with a little breathe he slid his tongue to brush against yours. The hand on your jaw trailing down, reaching slowly into the top of your shirt and smirking into the kiss as he found nothing in his way.

Biting your lips once, twice more before trailing down your neck. His facial hair scratching at your neck, leaving raw red marks where he passed that added to the delicious sting of his teeth. Your eyes fluttered shut, cries wanting to leave your mouth so desperately only to come out loud and needy as he kissed and bit at such a sensitive spot.

You hadn’t realized Robb turned you in the room until he pressed your hand to your side firmly in a warning to keep it there. Reaching over you tried to look but he pulled you back to strain your neck back at him. “Ah, ah you keep your eyes shut for me.”

For a second both his hands left you only to find him yanking both your hands back and wrapping what felt like a rope around your wrists before pulling at it to test how tight it was. Robb knelt down behind you dragging your breeches down slowly. “You drive me insane wearing these, you know that?” Carefully helping you step out of them before he ran his hands up your legs as he stood, grasping your ass roughly with both hands. “Walking around this camp, not even realizing how much every one of them would kill for even a peek at this.”

A smack at your ass pulled a shocked gasp from you before a shaky breathe sent shivers running down your spine. Smacking the same spot again before he roughly groped at the plush skin. “They don’t-”

Another smack, this time harder then either before as his groping increased in greed. “Oh they do, all those men want a piece of my pretty little wife and not one of them will ever get it.” On the unabused cheek, he gently massaged the skin before smacking it too, all the while watching your face twist in a fight of pain and pleasure. “I could walk you out there right now, and not a single one of them wouldn’t be hard as a rock at the sight.”

Stepping forward Robb moved around you to sit on the bed, pulling you carefully up to straddle his lap, when you swallowed nervously at the feeling, his touch turned soft on your hips. “I’ve got you, you’re safe I won’t let you fall.” Shifting back enough so that you could firmly sit in his lap, both your knees pressed against the fur beneath.

Smoothing his palm out to run back and pull you right over his cock by your ass, he other ran along the back of your hair much more gently. He pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, “I’m sorry,” your eyes narrowing in confusion as he kept you on the edge with both his hands on such different places. “About today, all of it. You were angry, then I was so angry I didn’t even bother asking if you were alright.”

Shaking your head, you both hated yet understood why he kept you tied back. It was too easy for you to distract him with your touch, “You have nothing to apologize for, I know you care even if you don’t say it.”

“Aye, that’s the problem.” Like he was trying to drive your senses crazy, Robb ran his mouth along your jaw once more, nipping along the skin on the other side now. “If I don’t ask, you just won’t tell me when you’re not okay. I don’t want you assuming I don’t care if I don’t show it, you do nothing but be there for me and if I’m not doing the same? Then I’m a bad husband.”

Your fingers flexed again, “I love you, and you love me, that’s all we need, Robb. Just us-” you cut yourself off as he bit a little harder, marking the other side of your neck to match his previous. “Are we talking or are you seducing me?”

Smirking into your skin, he pressed his hand into your ass a little tighter, “Can’t it be both?”

“I don’t know, maybe you’ll have to tie me up a little better if you want me to really listen.” Pulling back his eyes were dark as they stared you down, his hand finally moving from your hair down to hold onto the rope tie at your wrists. In a second, the world spun as he pulled you up onto the bed, and flipping you over so your hands sat behind your back.

Robb pushed both your knees open before reaching behind him, pulling a small dagger out. One hand rested on your inner thigh as he kept your eyes on his, so you could watch him carefully tip the blade down to the top of your shirt before slicing into it. The sound of the tearing fabric almost screaming in the silence of the room otherwise. Tossing it down, he pulled back to rest on his knees as he took his own clothes off for you to watch.

Your knees being kept wide apart as he knocked them open more with his own and knelt in between them, watching you grow more and more wet as he undressed. “You think any of them are lucky enough to have a woman like you in their bed, soaking their sheets when they’ barley done anything?”

You shook your head, “They’re not missing anything special.”

Leaning over top of you, you felt his cock slide hard and thick between your legs. “Oh but they are, and they know it. I could buy each and every one of them as many whores as they could handle, but none of them would make them anywhere near as greedy as you make me feel for free.”

Both hands braced beside your head he dragged is cock along more ever so slowly, your voice coming out in strained breaths as you stammered out. “F-fuck, could start charging. Be good for morale.”

Capturing your lips in a biting kiss, Robb wasted no time in deepening it as he let you soak his cock more and more. Pulling your hips up to his level, but never using the leverage to try and tease you more then dragging along your folds. “You think?”

You almost laughed if he didn’t capture your lips between each word before running a hand down, pressing a thumb against your clit, sliding down to gather the wetness he knew you were still giving him and ran small circles against it firmly. Pulling back with a small bite to your bottom lip, Robb slid two fingers deep inside of you, the sound almost obscene with how wet you were around him.

“Those men have no idea do they? Not a clue how much of a needy little whore their Queen is, how desperate she is for her King to fuck her every single night.” His fingers started to thrust slowly, almost pulling out before a rougher push back in, a moan crying from you every time. “Or maybe they do, you don’t seem to bothered about letting them hear you moan like one.”

Your core burning, head thrown back as he suddenly let a third join as he fucked you with them, “Please, Robb, of fuck please, I-” You could barley finish a sentence how worked up he had you, how much your inside twisted with pleasure at the sting three was giving you.

Leaning his head down, he pulled your forehead to rest up against his as he held the back of your neck with a rough voice, “Remember my love, when you asked why would a woman want it to hurt?” You felt lightheaded as you nodded, the wolfish grin ready to devour you as he pressed a kiss to your lips. “It’s only because the one fucking them, knows exactly how far to push before. Knows right where it’ll hurt just the perfect amount that it makes you cum.”

Your whine this time was a little harsher, Robb gently shushing your cries as he slowly shoved a fourth finger inside of you. Your body already sweating from the heat of him on top of you, the fur below and the need inside of you. Tears falling from the side of you as he paused just as he pushed them as deep as they could go, “Talk to me,”

“Don’t stop, please. I, fuck, you make me feel so good I promise.” His smile this time was a little more soft, the gentle kiss a little more innocent. The wetness sounding obscene as he fucked you this way, but the heart pounding pleasure you were feeling in between the aching sting was too good. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

Robb actually breathed out a laugh into your neck, leaving another kiss where his lips lay.

Only in an instant, you felt that coil snap, back arching as much as you could as Robb gently fucked you with his fingers through your orgasm, his lips along your neck making the same bite worse. Pulling them out just as you started to shake, he yanked your hips up and pushed inside of you.

You could barley think as he almost pushed you right into another orgasm, the stretch was thick and you clenched around him from the sparks of pleasure before he started to fuck you. Right up against that spot that had you sing for him, both of his hands now shoving your thighs as far apart as they could go he fucked harder.

Slow, pounding of his cock that slapped against your skin loudly. His eyes dragging over you as you weren’t even trying to hold your moans back. From the deepness of his cock and how each rough fuck sent you closer to burning in the fires you weren’t even sure you were aware of crying out his name, and how much Robb groaned each time.

All you could see and feel was him, and your heart pounded suddenly at the idea that he would ever consider you wouldn’t be there for him. The wolf making you feel utterly crazy from his touch like he wanted to possess you as much as you had his own mind and heart.

Almost falling on top of you, like Robb needed to feel you pressed against his skin, he buried his face in your neck as his hands roamed all over you. You pushed closer to the edge and this time the fall off would be into waters you never wanted to swim up from.

“Robb, please, fuck, cum inside me, my love. My king, please I want to feel you so badly,” The hair around his cock rubbing against your clit as his facial hair did the marks on your neck. His cock pushing hard against such a sensitive spot inside you that you snapped, coil twisting and breaking as your orgasm pushed you off the cliff. Arching into him and Robb holding you close as his hips fucked into you now faster as he seeked his own end deep inside of you.

“My needy girl wants me to fill her?” His voice rough as it was cracking from his own pleasure, your thighs burned from the strain, your neck from his teeth and your hips already sore from how hard he was pounding inside of you.

“Make me yours, Robb.”

Something came over him as he reached his orgasm. His hands on you rough as he started to cum, hot and thick like you could feel every drop of it deep as he spilled inside of you. His teeth clenched onto your neck and for a split second it was like as he came, he was gone and an aggressive and loud growling came from Grey Wind just outside.

Only just as he started, he stopped and Robb pulled back to press his lips against yours.

It took some time to come down, for both of you. Robb undoing the rope as he turned you onto your side away from the entrance as Grey Wind wandered in. You were pulled back into his chest as you both held the others hands tightly between your breasts as you both settled your hearts.

It was late into the night when he spoke quietly to you, “We need to meet with him, both of us. If he has Renly’s men now, he might stand a chance.”

Snuggling back into his touch, you sighed at how warm he felt. “He thinks I’m a traitor, thinks you’ve stolen half his kingdom.”

“All the more reason to try, we combine our numbers then the Lannisters have no legs to stand on, and if he doesn’t? I may have an idea for that anyways.”

Laughing lightly, your eyes slipped closed as he ran his nose along the back of your hair. “You think about my father a lot when we’re in bed, your grace?”

You got a smack on your ass one more time for that one. He likely could tell you were too close to slipping away to get into it, but Robb was awake for some time that night. Not only was his head stirring with any and every strategy he could conjure these days, but also at one other thing. Renly Baratheon being killed by a black mist in the shape of a man didn’t seem to insane, not to Robb.

Not when he could no longer pretend what was happening with Grey Wind was just his imagination.

Another direwolf on the other side of the world also sat curled up close to his master, but there was no sense of calm as they lay there that night.

One more night out in the cold beyond the wall, and another night Jons dreams were filled with tormenting images of you and Robb. Like the old gods were cursing him, more then they already currently were. You were his brothers now, he shouldn’t be forced to have such dreams that drive him insane, haunt him with knowing what you sound like in ways he almost had.

It was impossible to forget you in the dead of night, when something was filling his mind with sights and sounds of you and too many of them were like an alluring mockery of what Jon knew he gave up. But as he looked up in front of him one of the two actual things he could see just made this worse then being stuck here already felt.

Ghost first, being the only comfort he still had, beside him and facing the second figure carefully. His sharp red eyes watching as on guard as Jon’s grey ones were. It almost made him more frustrated. The woman who spoke as if she had no hypocritical thoughts that she spat at him, as if her kind hadn’t done as much bad as his and yet she never knew when to stop that mocking.

Taunting him for what she caught right away as inexperience and did she ever torment him for it. She had the gall to act as if The Night’s Watch were the true irredeemable enemy, and yet here Jon was, a grown man who certainly knew how to fight, having to put his own direwolf between them at night just to keep her aggressive advances away from him.

Whatever she thought this was, Jon couldn’t possibly tell her enough times she was wrong. She refused to listen, mocked him, and had no care of being told no. And now, each night he was mocked by dreams of the one person who showed him the exact opposite of the abuse thrown at him currently.

With the brother who always got what Jon never did, and still the one person who was the only thing Jon once ever had to himself. Ygritte could taunt him all she wanted for whatever she thinks he doesn’t know.

But Jon certainly did know what being consumed with a burning love for you feels like, and how much he hated that being forced closer to the wildling made him feel like a traitor to you.

He had to watch you and his brother for who knows why, but he told you to do it. To find love with Robb, and you listened to him, you always listened to Jon. But for him, on top of everything in this new life he had to deal with, feeling like Ygritte’s advances somehow betrayed him to you even now?

Just let the cold of the night take him out already, he thought.

#jon snow x reader #robb stark x reader #game of thrones #jon snow #robb stark #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #jon snow x you #robb stark x you #jon snow imagine #robb stark imagine #game of thrones imagine

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ladystoneboobs · 1 month

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no of fence to jon snow fans who for some reason care about his exact age, but these discussions just annoy me no end. not only bc there's no way any weirwood flashbacks bran has to rhaegar/lyanna will come with time/datestamps, but also bc there's always comments like this:

SEVERAL turns of the moon (ie, months)?! have these people never seen a human baby before or just have no concept of their ages? even if we take into account travel time from the toj to wf, meaning jon was not a newborn too fresh out the oven when catelyn and robb arrived, there's still a difference between a newborn and a 3mo and an even bigger difference between those infants and an older baby 5-7mo. there's very good reasons these lines were cut. whatever birthdates can be worked out internally for jon and robb from when they're first mentioned as 15 and 16 don't matter in the end, bc grrm doesn't care about a consistent timeline and the actual text of catelyn's pov and ned's convo with robert about cheating on her should outweigh any guesstimates about jon's official nameday wrt robb's. catelyn may not have cared for jon, but she would sure as hell have noticed his nameday if it came before robb's and made him ned's firstborn. if jon's birthday canonically came before robb's then either ned's cover story would not involve adultery (not impossible for him to sire a bastard before his wedding), or he'd just give jon a new nameday along with his new name to fit the adultery lie. it makes no sense for him to lie about one and not the other, undermining the big lie with a little public clue of his story not adding up. whatever else she was as a stepmother, cat wasn't stupid and a bastard who was actually the eldest son being raised alongside her trueborn heir could be an even bigger insult than whether he was born of adultery or not.

BUT, the unknowability of jon's true birthday is not the only reason this annoys me, it's bc this is all based on the assumption that jon must be older since rhaegar/lyanna ran off together before ned married cat, as if both boys must have been conceived asap as robb canonically was when his parents consummated their marriage. and that's not how human reproduction works! even if you don't understand how fast babies grow in the first year, you should know that people who get pregnant do so through ovulation cycles and a lucky sperm finding an egg and all that, not just immediately getting knocked up as soon as one has p-in-v sex for the first time. not unless you only know mean girls sex ed where if you have sex you will get pregnant and die. (even tho lyanna did die, there's plenty of canon examples where pregnancy did not lead straight to death. also examples of people who did not get pregnant right away and even some who are/were sexually active and childless without always having moon tea on hand.) we can't know how long lyanna was having sex before that sperm+egg match happened or even how long she was with rhaegar before losing her technical virginity. if they were married, doesn't it make sense to think they didn't consummate their relationship until the wedding night either? that's the only leverage there is to ensure a status as wife rather than just mistress.

and while i just said grrm doesn't care about exact timelines and a lot is still foggy surrounding the rebellion and esp rhaegar, there is one timemarker wrt robert's rebellion he voluntarily threw in, time and time again: that stannis was besieged at storm's end for almost a whole year. that siege, which mind you, did not match the duration of the entire war. it only started after robert won his battles at gulltown and summerhall, returned to storm's end, and then went out and lost the battle of ashford, leaving his homeland open to the reachermen. the same siege which only ended when ned made a detour there after the sack of king's landing, before going to the toj. even if lyanna may not have given birth that exact day ned found her, she could only be waiting in that bloody bed for weeks at the most, not months. so if rhaegar knocked her up the very same night he carried her off and jon was still a newborn when ned found her after the siege of storm's end had ended, wouldn't that mean lyanna was pregnant for well over a year? that's not how human pregnancy works either! so, maybe that's proof that jon and robb, whichever order they were actually born in, were actually very close in age as babies, much closer than if they were both conceived asap.

and really, jon's actual birthdate does not matter imho, when he was raised not just as the bastard to robb's trueborn heir, but with robb also known by catelyn and the world as ned's firstborn (which he was, in any case, as jon was ned's nephew by birth). what difference could a birthdate before robb's make (even were there some means of discovery) after ned, cat, and robb are all dead? if one is looking only at his birth parents then he's only a firstborn child on lyanna's side, but definitely a second son on rhaegar's side. maybe he was always meant to be a second son with a not much older half-brother! even if the aegon fka young griff is not in fact rhaegar's son, he'll still be known as aegon vi targaryen, meaning jon will never be known as any father's elder son. if i may reference mean girls again, it's not going to happen.

#valyrianscrolls #asoiaf #asoiaf meta #robb stark #jonathan snowflake starkgaryen #i want him to succeed me as king in the north #jon snow #ned stark #lyanna stark #like this isn't prompted by anyone except that reddit post and its comments this has just annoyed me for so long #that's why i made that show!robb/show!jon coming of age gifset years ago bc narratively jon is always a second son #bc robb did everything first as elder bro and the only milestones jon will hit first will be the those robb can't since he's dead for good #(obviously starting with jon being first male stark to be brought back from the dead)#not that everyone interested in this debate thinks this way but it just feels tied to the idea of jon being a trueborn heir #not only was he never a bastard he was an eldest boy! eldest surviving boy with those pesky half-dornish sibs gone! point missed.#sorry i just dont think grrm means for a targ restoration with king jon any more than fake eldest boy kendall roy could win his succession #(c)lsb #i had to look up all the quotes on the big storm's end siege bc it makes me feel like i'm taking crazy pills #thinking what abt stannis starving for a year while others are like we just can't know how long rr was. was it even 9mons?#like yeah lollys's pregnancy doesn't add up but bc grrm really slowed the tl down postacok prob w/o really thinking #thats diff from repeatedly saying something lasted almost a year when he didn't have to give such a timeframe!

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catofoldstones · 3 days

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The thing about arya fans' argument that arya comes before sansa in the line of succession because robb disinherited her because of her forced marriage is the underlying misogyny and victim blaming of it, and their assumption that grrm thinks the same. We don't have jon [you know the actual person robb chose over sansa, and i think its time we start talking that the will specifically was about sansa and jon and that shit means something narratively] asserting that winterfell belongs to sansa despite everything and him not falling to the bait of stannis calling her a lannister, to just assume that according to grrm what robb did was OK. If people actually think grrm wants to show robb was right and girls truly are not important and thus his disinheritance of his sister's rights will be upheld, then they need their heads checked. Its not like he showed us that jaehaerys's sexism was what led to death of the dragons and downfall of targaryens even though grrm considers him a good ruler. Ultimately, catelyn will be validated when brienne saves either sansa or arya with oathkeeper and sansa will become lady of winterfell/qitn DESPITE robb's will. He [and arya fans] can suck it.

Hi soulmate anon,

Before we start, I have to let you know that one our previous posts was screenshotted and circulated in the arya stans circles because “we’re spreading our agenda on a neutral public platform” or something along those lines. Idk if you’ve seen that or not but I had to let you know before we go off kicking another hornet’s nest lol.

Anyway, that out of the way, to the Arya stans who are so hellbent upon removing Sansa from the Stark succession, Robb declared Jon as his heir, pushing Sansa further down the line (not disinheriting her jesus fuck) because through her Tyrion may lay claim to Winterfell, landing it in the hands of the Lannisters, exactly what Robb and Cat are trying to prevent. Robb didn’t “disinherit” Arya because he thought she was dead. Hope that helps.

WAIT!

the will being specifically about Jon and Sansa and that we need to start thinking about that narratively

SCREAM

Okay, I have now moved on (I have not). Though please feel free to talk about this more, I wanna know more. Guess I’ll now have to add jonsa tag to this answer hehe :P

I mean Robb did come from a place of “authority over the female members of his family” here with the will and that’s exactly the kind of thing we have to side eye. Taking it at face value and uncritically thinking about it is not a fair way to engage with the text I feel. You’re right when Jon himself reiterates Sansa’s claim over Winterfell, we are supposed to think twice whether Robb’s action was equitable or not. Stannis calls Sansa “Lady Lannister” to coax Jon into staking a claim over Winterfell so that Stannis gets a good reason to march to Winterfell and attack the Boltons (which he will anyway, but Jon’s, a member of the Stark family, support would mean political backing and reason). If we fall in the trap that Stannis thinks Sansa is now a Lannister, and therefore she is now a Lannister with no claim to Winterfell, then we’ve lost the plot and are coming from the same misogynistic hypocrisy (he wants Shireen on the throne if he dies but calls Sansa a Lannister, how does that work old man?) that destroys Westeros (your Jaehaerys example). And are no different from a crusty medieval era middle aged man btw.

It’s so fucking funny when the readers start emulating the same sexism that the author wants them to critique, and then start calling themselves feminists because they’re supporting a woman’s rights! Which woman’s rights besties? Because the one that clearly has them, you’re actively against her staking her claim. Wait till they read the books with their eyes open and realise that Arya comes at the end of the heirs to winterfell list, despite Sansa getting “disinherited” lmao. And I love Robb, he’s just a boy trying to do his best, but he truly made mistakes, especially with not listening to Catelyn. We also cannot deny the undercurrent of misogyny and chauvinism that Robb demonstrated with the will. Re Sansa’s rights and Jon’s decision to be with the Nights Watch. I will patiently wait for Catelyn to be validated and Sansa to be the Lady/QiTN not only because that subverts reader’s expectations and Westerosi patriarchal standards but because I want to see Sansa antis have a grand old meltdown.

#soulmate anon #asoiaf #anti arya stans #pro sansa stark #sansa stark #jon snow #robb stark #jonsa #anon your mind #anon asks t #long post don’t look

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in-my-feels-probably · 1 year

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Hey if you don't mind could you please do a robb stark x reader? Idk how but maybe they survive the Red Wedding and she feels anxious about everything and leading robb to express his trauma and then it's just them comforting each other

- thank you <3

Whatever May Come

Request: Hey if you don't mind could you please do a robb stark x reader? Idk how but maybe they survive the Red Wedding and she feels anxious about everything and leading robb to express his trauma and then it's just them comforting each other

Hi! I’m so sorry it took so long to get to this, thank you for being patient. Thank you for the request, this is my first time writing for Robb. To make sense of the story a little bit, the reader is a Tyrell. Her sister is Margaery and her grandmother is Olenna. Also, I’m referencing the Vale in this fic, please pretend that it’s close to Riverrun.

Also, I wrote out Talisa for this request, obviously. She’s replaced by the reader, but the reader isn’t pregnant. She and Robb get hurt, but escape. The rest of the events still unfold as seen in the show, but Robb survives and escapes before the end. Also, I know Arya was there when everything happened, but I’m not writing her in either so I can just focus on the request.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

(Warnings: swearing, death, blood and gore, weapons, guilt and trauma, slight mentions and allusions to sex, let me know if i missed anything)

—

You had grown up in Highgarden, with your sister Margaery. On Robb’s sixteenth nameday, he was informed of your Father’s and his father’s plans to eventually wed you both. You had met a few times before, when your Father would bring you along to the feasts at Winterfell.

The North did not have many allies. They were an independent nation, content to govern themselves. But just as the Tully’s swore fealty to the Starks, resulting in Catelyn’s betrothal to Ned, the Tyrells did the same.

As the second born daughter, and third child overall to the Tyrell family, your position was not as highly valued as your siblings. Loras was a knight, revered around the realm for his charm and skill in combat. Margaery was cunning and beautiful, sure to make for a lucky match with any deserving Lord of the realm. They were both destined for greatness.

You, however, didn’t have a fate as secure. Sure, your dowry was sizable, and your family valued. But you had no real promise for climbing the ladder. You’d eventually be the wife of a respectable Lord, and Mother to his children. It wasn’t a fate you wanted, but you endured it all the same.

Robb would be Lord of Winterfell one day, and Warden of the North. Your Father had a soft spot for you, and wanted you to be happy, and marry well. Luckily, Ned had a respect for your House, and approved of you enough to court you with his son. He requested that you come to stay with his family, so he could see whether or not you were the right fit for marrying into his family.

You were sent from your home to Winterfell, arriving on Robb’s name day.

You were scared, dreading the life ahead of you that you had been sold into. You hadn’t seen Robb in years, unable to make it to an annual feast since the two of you were mere children.

But Robb was the perfect gentleman, instantly easing your fears the moment he greeted you at the gate with his father, a kind smile on his face.

You instantly clicked, becoming best friends. Neither of your families ever confirmed it, but you both knew that one day, you’d be promised to each other forever. It was like a dream come true. You couldn’t have asked for better.

It turned into a nightmare the day Winterfell received word that Ned had been arrested on charges of treason, and would be sentenced to death. In just a few days, Lords from all over the realm sworn to House Stark flocked to support their new King, effectively bringing everyone into an all out war.

Robb refused to let you come with him, wanting you and his mother safe and out of harm’s way. You and Catelyn had other plans, eventually leaving Winterfell and joining Robb in the fight.

In the midst of a war, as the proclaimed King in the North, Robb was responsible for the planning and executing of battle strategies. He knew his enemies were strong, relentless, and viewed as invincible by the common people.

If he could take Casterly Rock, it would prove to the people that Tywin Lannister was not as strong as he seemed, and that the North had a good chance of winning the war. In order to take Casterly Rock, Robb would have to march his army through the Twins, a piece of land owned by Walder Frey.

In the chaos of battle after battle and the constant moving of camps, you and Robb had nearly forgotten your family’s plans of marrying you to each other.

That is until Lord Frey asked Robb to marry one of his daughters, in exchange for passage through his land and the use of his men.

You told Robb to agree to it. If it came down to choosing you, or choosing his men, you wanted him to choose his men. If it meant that he would win the war with the least amount of casualties on your side, it was the only option he had, at least in your mind. You loved Robb, that was clear to anyone who took more than a second to watch the pair of you together. But you’d settle for being a mistress, or go so far as to give him up entirely, if it meant keeping him alive. He had to win.

Even if he had to do it without you.

As infuriating as it could be at times, Robb was an honorable man. He would not marry a woman if his heart belonged to another, and he refused to give you up.

You had told him it was a stupid idea. But no amount of trying to convince him would change his mind once it was set. He was one of the most stubborn men you had ever met, and you knew it wasn’t worth wasting more breath arguing over. You were married in a small ceremony, after Robb decided he couldn’t wait any longer to be with you.

Every day, he woke up and risked his life for a cause much bigger than himself. He told you that he couldn’t go on, knowing that he wasn’t savoring everything he held dear to him. He wouldn’t take you for granted for another day, not when each day could be his last.

Even his mother agreed, finally approving the match and allowing you to marry.

Afterwards, there was still the matter of Walder Frey, and Robb’s promise to him.

As a compromise, Lord Frey agreed to marry Robb’s uncle, Edmure, to one of his daughters, in exchange for passage through his land. Robb kept his promise, and convinced his uncle to marry one of the daughters.

You attended a celebration, in honor of Edmure and his betrothed.

Lord Frey allowed you into his home, extending his hospitality to you and the Northmen. Robb gave his apologies to Lord Frey, his daughters, and his granddaughters. You gave your apologies for your part in it as well. It was dismissed as water under the bridge, and the festivities continued.

That night, while the men made camp outside, a small group of you attended the wedding.

You stood beside Robb during the ceremony, watching as Lord Frey led his daughter down the aisle, where Edmure anxiously waited at the end. When the bride reached the end of the aisle, her father removed her veil, revealing his daughter to the room.

You let out a quiet gasp, and Robb turned to you, whispering in your ear.

“What is it?”

“She’s beautiful,” you said, keeping your eyes on her. “You may have missed an opportunity here, I regret to admit.”

Robb fought a smile, returning his gaze to the betrothed. “Don’t be daft. You’re the most beautiful woman in this room, and you know it.”

You felt the heat creep up to your cheeks, ever so slightly shaking your head.

“Hush. Pay attention.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice. “Yes, My Queen. As you command.”

—

After the ceremony, the festivities were moved into the banquet hall. Men lined the banisters overhead, playing tunes for the guests. People laughed, danced, and chattered while the servants came around with ale. A group in the middle had taken to dancing, or for a more accurate phrase, stumbling around drunk.

Robb laughed as he watched them, making you smile. The war had kept his smile from him for so long, it had been ages since you'd seen it or heard him laugh.

Somewhere throughout the night, Lord Edmure and his new bride had been whisked away for the bedding ceremony, a sight that you rolled your eyes at.

“It’s tradition,” Robb said, grabbing your hand in his.

“A barbaric tradition. As if it isn’t already a humiliating enough experience for a girl to be with a man for the first time. Now she’ll have half of the party in there, drunk and watching.”

Robb smiled softly at you as you spoke, squeezing your hand. “I couldn’t say no, darling. Lord Frey is already quite cross with me, we have to give him his little joys. My Uncle and Lady Frey were smiling, it isn’t as if I’ve forced them to do anything they don’t want to do.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” you said, smiling back. “It doesn’t make it any less of a stupid tradition. I pity her.”

“Oh, what would you know? You didn’t have to do it,” he teased, grinning.

“And you were all the luckier for it. I wouldn’t have been as nice as I was, which if I recall correctly, you seemed to very much enjoy. You’d have left our chambers taking a few drunk Lords to the Maester and returned to a locked door. I do hope he knows how to properly heal broken noses.”

Robb let out a chuckle at your words, warming your heart at the sound of it. “Lucky I forbade it then, aren’t I? Saved a few people from a bloody evening.”

“And yourself from a rather unfortunate one, as well. I’d count us both lucky, Your Grace,” you teased back, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand.

The night continued on, the festivities still lively. Across the hall, Lady Catelyn was sitting with her uncle and Lord Bolton. A servant came over to fill their cups, when Lord Bolton abstained.

You raised a brow, listening in on his words as best you could.

“I never drink, My Lady. It dulls the senses.”

“That’s the point,” the Blackfish said, standing to find a bathroom.

You watched the path he took to walk out, stilling in your chair when you noticed that the hall doors had been shut just as he left. It was a wedding and a feast, people should have been able to come and go as they pleased. Why would the doors be shut? Lady Catelyn seemed to notice as well, standing up as a few stray men in armor entered the room.

The men on the balcony played a solemn tune, one you recognized to be The Rains of Castamere.

You were not an idiot. You had heard that song before, you knew its origins. Your Grandmother, the Lady Olenna of House Tyrell, raised you and your sister well. She taught you to pay attention to every detail, and to never walk into a room without knowing every crevice of it. You had learned from the best. And you knew something was wrong.

Lady Catelyn knew it, too.

You turned to your husband, grabbing his arm. “Robb–”

“Your Grace,” Lord Frey interrupted, standing up and silencing the room.

Robb stood up, walking to stand in front of Lord Frey’s table at the front of the room. You slowly and quietly backed your chair away from the table while everyone took their seats, giving yourself room to stand quickly. You tried to ignore the pit in your stomach, but it wouldn’t let you ignore it. Trusting your instincts, you slowly reached for your boot, where you kept a dagger inconspicuously strapped to it.

That was another thing your Grandmother taught you. To always be prepared, to be one step ahead, and to always be the one to surprise.

“I feel I’ve been remiss, in my duties,” Lord Frey said, eyes on Robb. “I’ve given you meat and wine and music…but I haven’t shown you the hospitality you deserve. My King has married and I owe my new Queen a wedding gift.”

“Robb!” Catelyn suddenly called out, slapping Lord Bolton across the face, who bolted across the room the second he could get free.

Robb turned just in time to see one of Walder Frey’s soldiers, coming at you with a dagger. Just as you felt a hand grab your shoulder and a sharp blade graze your throat, you dislodged the dagger from your boot, spinning around and plunging it into your attacker’s throat.

Robb moved to rush to you, but one of the men on the balcony shot an arrow at him, sticking him in the shoulder. He let out a groan, stumbling back. Across the room, his mother had been shot as well.

“No!” You screamed, diving to the floor as arrows began to fly, massacring the Northmen inside.

Robb had been struck with another arrow, sending him tumbling to the ground. You grasped for him, hooking your arms under his and straining to pull him as close to you as you could. Shielded partially by the table, you held your blade’s hilt between your teeth, checking Robb’s wounds. He was bleeding, but luckily was still conscious, just in shock.

“Y/N,” he murmured, dazed.

“Quiet,” you whispered, hushed. “I’m getting us out of here.”

Screams echoed throughout the hall, and you shielded Robb as men scrambled to get free. Chaos erupted around you, all while Walder Frey sat at his table, his goblet raised.

You scanned around the room, looking for your best way out. You pulled Robb up, snapping the ends of the arrows off. If you pulled them out, he could bleed out. It was easier this way, and he’d make it long enough to be treated. He groaned in pain, tears brimming in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you said, cradling his face. “You have to help me. You have to stand up. We just have to get to that corridor, it’s unmanned. Walder’s son was guarding it earlier, he isn’t there anymore. Robb, please. I can’t do this without you.”

“Mother,” he whispered, leaning up. “Where is she?”

You looked around, spotting her under a table. She had pulled an arrow from her back, and was reaching for the blade of a dead man on the floor. Suddenly, she was grasped by her hair and pulled out from under the table.

“No–”

You covered Robb’s mouth with your hand, willing him to be quiet. “If they see us, we’ll both die. I can’t let you die, I won’t.”

He struggled in your grip, and you bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. You shifted him off your lap, gripping your blade tight. “I’ll help her, alright? Please stay here. Please.”

Before he could protest, you began crawling out from under the table. You eased your way as out of sight as you could, following where Catelyn had been dragged. She was doing her best to fight off her captor, and was successful, if only for a moment.

Soldier’s came to the man’s aid, holding her still as they brought her in front of Lord Frey’s table.

“What shall we do with her, sire?”

Lord Frey pondered it a moment, smirking. Lady Catelyn fought with her life, scratching and kicking her captors, drawing blood. They groaned and faltered as she screamed, clawing to get free.

Finally, Lord Frey pointed to her, before calling over more of his men. “Kill the bitch.”

You watched in horror as her hair was grabbed by a man from behind, her head tilted back. In the end, it took five men to hold her still, hardly able to contain her. A blade was passed to the closest man, and her throat was slit. She crumpled to the floor in a pool of her own blood, her eyes still open and staring right through you.

You scrambled to get back to Robb, who had pushed himself up to his knees. Tears were freely falling down his face, and he let out a sound of anguish as you slid to his side, pulling him into you.

“Don’t look,” you said, holding him tight. “Don’t look. Listen to me, Robb. We have to get out of here. We have to keep fighting, alright? Are you hearing me?”

He nodded into your shoulder, pulling his head up. Your heart ached as you saw the look on his face, nothing but pure agony. He willed himself to be strong, to be strong for you. He shelved his emotions, his face growing cold as he looked around. Roose Bolton had reentered the room, presumably looking for the two of you. Robb turned his attention back to you, grabbing your hand.

“I’m hearing you. Where do we go?”

You pointed to the corridor in the corner of the room, still left unmanned. “We have to go that way. It will lead deeper into the castle, but away from the camps outside. He will have sent most of his men outside to kill our armies.”

Robb seethed, his eyes filled with rage and sorrow. You shook your head, squeezing his hand.

“Robb, listen to me. We will avenge them. All of them. And we will get revenge for your Mother. The North will always remember, and they will never forgive. We’ll gather our armies. We’ll fight, and we’ll win. We have been betrayed, but we have not lost. We will win, I promise you that…but only if we get out of here. It will mean nothing, and they will have died for nothing, if we don’t get out of here.”

Robb hurriedly nodded, placing your dagger back in your boot. He reached for a dead man’s sword, passing it to you. He unsheathed his own sword, crawling out from beneath the table. He reached for your hand, quickly pulling you up.

“You know how to use it, and you must. Hold on to my coat. Stay behind me, and whatever you do, don’t let go.”

You nodded, holding onto him. You gripped the sword tight in your free hand, the other clutched tightly to Robb’s coat. You wildly looked around, waiting for an opening. The second one cleared, you yelled for him to go, quickly following after him.

Robb cut down every man in your path that night.

Every soldier that got within a few feet of you both, he cut down without hesitation. You clung to him, stabbing and slicing whatever came near you. Together, you made it out of the hall and into the corridor, where you took the lead.

You led the pair of you out the back of the castle, while the front was in battle. Together, you fled into the night, trying your hardest not to listen to the sound of your men’s screams.

—

That night, you fled on foot. Robb was injured, and couldn’t travel fast. Luckily, a few bands of men had escaped the Frey’s attack, and found you on the road with a few horses. You rode through the night all the way to the Vale, where you arrived in the early morning.

Robb’s Aunt, the Lady Arryn, allowed you and your men into her home, as you seeked asylum.

You trusted her well enough. After all, she was Catelyn’s sister. While you were not particularly close with either woman, a familiar name brought you comfort. Stark, Arryn, Tully, it was all name to a house you and Robb would be welcome home in.

Robb was seen by the Maester, who bandaged him up as best he could. He told you to keep Robb off his feet as best you could for the next few days. It was best to lie low anyways. Although the Eyrie was loyal to the North, and would protect the man named King in the North, there was still the possibility of spies and betrayal.

Just as you got Robb into bed in your chambers, a raven arrived from Riverrun. You promised him you’d be back shortly, and went into the throne room to hear Lady Arryn deliver the message.

The Blackfish, Catelyn’s uncle, had escaped the Twins and returned to his home to prepare his army for a potential battle with the Lannister army. He would hold his fort, and await for further instruction. Edmure Tully had been captured. Roose Bolton had betrayed the North. Tywin Lannister offered to name him Warden of the North, only if he was successful in assassinating you and Robb. Your deaths and the death of your army would end the war, allowing the Lannister’s to pull their army back to King’s Landing.

Although the attempts on your life were unsuccessful, others weren’t. Nearly three quarters of the combined army who had followed you to the Twins were slaughtered there. The rest narrowly escaped with their lives, and assumedly were fleeing back home. It was confirmed that Lady Catelyn, Robb’s mother, had been murdered. Greywind, Robb’s direwolf, had been slain as well.

When you returned to your chambers, the hour still early, Robb had sat up in bed, groaning in pain. You sat down next to him, gently laying your hand on his arm, With tears in your eyes, you informed him of the betrayal, and the confirmed deaths on your side.

“The Blackfish sent word. Roose Bolton and Walder Frey betrayed us, paid off by the Lannisters. Over half the Northern army is dead, the rest captured or seen fleeing. Greywind was put down…and your mother.”

His face crumbled, and he broke down into tears. He slumped into your lap, desperately clutching at the fabric of your dress. He gripped you tight, sobs muffled into your stomach. You fought your own tears, wrapping Robb tight in your arms.

He cried himself to sleep, nearly making himself sick.

—

The next morning, Robb didn’t speak of the night before.

In the following days, he didn’t utter a word about it to you, only speaking of it to the Lord’s who still supported the North. Ravens came back and forth to the Eyrie, and only a seldom number of houses knew you and Robb had seeked shelter in the Vale.

Robb spent much of his time distracting himself, in the training yard with his young cousin Robyn, or out on horseback. Lords came and went, speaking of battle plans.

You didn’t know much about them. You weren’t there to hear them, and Robb wouldn’t tell you when you asked.

Unlike Robb, you could hardly leave your chambers.

You were not a weak person. You weren’t raised to be easily frightened or overwhelmed. You had been taught better than that, your Grandmother made sure of it. But when you awoke the morning after you arrived at the Vale, and your husband was able to get up and leave your chambers, you were simply frozen in bed. Petrified and paranoid, afraid that anyone who made it past the guards had come to collect for the price on your head.

It tormented you for days. Slowly, you were able to leave your chambers, but you couldn’t go far. Robb kept to himself, finding it hard to even look at you. He did his duties, and returned to your chambers every night, but he wasn’t really there.

One evening, Lady Arryn called everyone to dinner, in memory of her sister. The thought of leaving your chambers made you sick, but you didn’t have it in your heart to say no to either Robb or Lady Arryn. You were obliged to attend, and you and Robb got ready in silence. You still wore black, as a sign of mourning.

Across the room, Robb finally called for you. He hadn’t spoken more than a few words to you in days. But he finally did, standing in front of the mirror.

“Y/N?” He asked, turning to you. “Could you help me?”

You stood up from sitting on the edge of the bed, moving to stand beside him. “What is it?”

He slowly handed you an embroidered black ribbon, the edges frayed. You furrowed a brow, looking up at him. His face was solemn.

“It was my mothers,” he said, and your face softened. “I want to wear it tonight, but I don’t know where to put it. My Aunt said she used to tie it in her hair.”

His voice caught at the end of his sentence, and you rested your hand on his shoulder, easing him.

“As pretty as you would look with a ribbon in your hair,” you grinned, making Robb crack a small smile. “I expect we can think of something more practical. How about we cuff your sleeves? We can tie it around your wrist. Hmm?”

He nodded, letting out a shaky breath. He held out his hand for you to take, and you gently rolled his sleeve before securing the ribbon around his wrist. You pulled a ribbon from your own hair, tying it around his other wrist.

“There. Are we ready?”

He nodded, holding his arm out for you to take. “We are. Thank you, love.”

He guided the pair of you to dinner, a pit settled in both your stomachs. A cloud of sadness hung over both your heads, casting its shadow over the rest of your evening. During the meal, Lady Arryn told stories of her childhood with her sister, with tears in her eyes. You laughed together, remembering Catelyn. Robb told a few stories of his own.

“You’ll remember this, darling, you had already come to stay with us,” he said, turning to look at you. “It was the day we found the direwolves. One for each of us. Mother griped and griped at Father when we returned with them, a pup under each arm. It took us days to get her to accept them. She called them beasts, always tripping with them underfoot while they followed us around. I think the first time she accepted them was when Y/N and I were out in the courtyard. Mother was on the balcony, watching us play with Rickon.”

Robb smiled as he spoke, reaching for your hand. “Rickon was running after Y/N, and he accidentally stepped on the back of her dress. The end of it ripped, and they both fell. Nobody was hurt, they were laughing by the time they hit the ground. But Greywind bounded over, sniffing around. Making sure they were alright.”

Robb paused, looking at his lap, taking a minute to pull himself together.

You squeezed his hand, running your thumb over the back of his knuckles. “I’ll finish the story, love.”

“No, no,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I’m alright. I can do it. Anyway, I rushed over, making sure they were alright. Y/N was being dramatic, making a big fuss over her dress being ripped. She was trying to make Rickon laugh, he looked a little bewildered and guilty. The whole time, Greywind was standing over us all while we were sitting in the dirt. A guard came over, and he bent down to help Rickon and Y/N up. But Greywind, still only a small little thing, darted in front of them. All teeth and snarls, blocking the guard from getting to them. I doubt at that age he could have done much damage, but he sure was ready to try his best.”

Everyone chuckled, taking sips of their drinks around the table. You smiled at the memory, squeezing Robb’s hand again. He continued.

“I had to call Greywind off. Just like that, he was back at our sides, all content. As if he wasn’t ready to chew off that guard’s hand. He was so protective of us all, from the beginning. And he minded well. We got everyone up and headed to get cleaned up, and Mother whistled from the balcony. We all looked up, and she was grinning. ‘Bring me my son,’ she said. ‘And get that dog a bone.’ And she went inside. That was it.”

A tear streamed down Robb’s face, and he quickly wiped it away. “I’m really going to miss them.”

Lady Arryn nodded, wiping her own tears. “Me too, my boy. Me too.”

—

That evening after dinner, you guided Robb quietly back to your chambers. He didn’t say a word on the way back, only stopping to open the door for you. You both undressed, getting ready for bed. You had your back to him, only turning around once you had finished. When you finally turned around, your heart broke at the sight of him.

Robb stood in front of the mirror with his shirt off, pulling at the scars the two arrows left on his torso.

It was the first time Robb had left his shirt off long enough for you to see them in a while. The day he stopped needing you to help him dress, he kept them covered and out of your sight. But here he was, right before you. Vulnerable, and sad.

You slowly walked over to him, laying your hand on his shoulder blade. His eyes met yours in the mirror, and his face crumbled once again. You wrapped your arms around his waist tightly, resting your cheek in the middle of his back. He clutched at your arms, his head hung low.

He turned around in your arms, bringing you into his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, pulling back to see his face. “Why are you apologizing? There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“There is!” He said, angrily wiping at his tears. “I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t protect any of them!”

“It is not your fault,” you reassured, gripping his arms.

“It is! You’re cowering around the castle, barely able to leave our chambers. I can barely look at you without being eaten alive with guilt. I should have seen it coming. But I was selfish, and I let my men pay the price for it. And Greywind…my Mother…”

You threw your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into you. He held you tightly, hiding his face in your neck. You could feel his tears land on your skin, and you felt a twinge in your heart.

“My sweet boy,” you said, moving to cradle his face in your palms. “You will not blame yourself. I won’t hear any more of it! It isn’t your fault, no more than it is mine. There was no way to see this coming. We did what we had to do, Robb. We couldn’t save them. But we could avenge them. And the only way to do that was ensuring we made it out alive. I’m so sorry we couldn’t do more.”

You gently ran your fingers along the scars on his torso, feeling him tense under your touch. You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder.

“I won’t lie to you, Robb. I was scared. I’m still scared. But hear me, and hear me well. It is not, and it will never be your fault. There is nothing you could have done. Nothing. But we will avenge them all, I promise you that. They didn’t die for nothing.”

Robb covered his eyes with the heels of his hands, nearly gasping for breath as he cried. He clutched at his chest, his voice raw. “It hurts. Make it stop, please.”

He looked small like this. Just a boy, thrust into the nasty grip of war. It was tearing him apart. You gently walked him back until you reached the foot of the bed, easing him down onto it. He sat, and you stood between his legs, cradling his face.

“I know, my love. I know.”

—

After a while, the air had calmed. You were now in bed, laying facing each other. Robb was running a finger up and down your arm, keeping his eyes low.

His voice was quiet. “I miss them. I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing them.”

You nodded, settling into his chest. “That’s alright. I think you’ll always miss them. But it will get easier…it has to. They’ll always be with you.”

Your voice shook as you spoke. He protectively wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him. He pressed a kiss into your hair, holding you tight. It was quiet another moment, before he spoke again, whispering to you.

“You’re safe with me. You know that, right?”

You nodded, but he didn’t feel assured. You didn’t, either.

“I mean it. You never have to worry about your safety with me. I’ll protect you with my life if I have to. And I plan on living a long and happy life, with you by my side. You’re stuck with me, alright? My girl. My Queen.”

You let out a breathy laugh, feeling tears well up in your eyes. You closed your eyes to keep them from falling, pressing yourself further into Robb’s side.

“I believe you, my love. My King. We’ll be alright. I believe that, too.”

—

A/N - Hi! This one got a little long, sorry. I hope it was what you were looking for, and I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think!”

#game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #robb stark x reader #robb stark #robb stark imagine #robb stark x tyrell #robb stark x tyrell!reader #the red wedding #hotd #house of the dragon #house stark #requests open

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stormborns · 9 months

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GAME OF THRONES 1.08, The Pointy End

#gameofthronesedit #gotedit #housestarkedit #catelynstarkedit #robbstarkedit #game of thrones #house stark #robb stark #catelyn stark #show: got #show: s1 #h: house stark #p: catelyn robb #*mine

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dontbotherwiththepronunciation · 3 months

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This escalated a lot, (which was a good distraction from everything so I'm taking that as a good thing), so now I have to give:

Warnings: Discussions and mentions of all the horrible things we warn for in Theon's Plotline, particularly the ones about depersonhood, sexual violence, casual violence, classism, and so on and so on + a few suicide jokes and links to artistic depictions of the aftermath of rape.

I moved a few weeks ago and haven't been able to unpack because I got injured during the moving and my other arm is also fucked up because of something else that happened this year and today I finally got to clean around and actually do stuff and arrange my room and I started with my book shelf, which obviously means I didn't actually do much because I just started rereading whatever book I hadn't seen in a while got to my hands. And after realising that I certainly have a type for narratives and characters I started thinking about Hannah from Until Dawn and how amazing it was to have a dead female character with little to no characterisation that subverted the "haunt the narrative" thing we see in many of the asoiaf girls from the dead ladies club and yeah I am thinking about Kyra again and that is not a good mentality.

Elia and Lyanna are given a personality and a face through those who loved them, they feel real because the pain of those who mourn them feels real. Even Joanna Lannister gets some of that through what little we find out of her.

Kyra is a dead lady but she’s not a member of the Dead Ladies Club™. She doesn’t get that privilege. The only person who thinks of her is Theon and it is not done lovingly.

Kyra has a personality we are not privy too. She is a satellite character that is mentioned exclusively in relation to Theon, even in the exception of Bran's POV. Her existence is conditioned to Theon.

Jeyne Poole, although often called one, isn't a satellite character. From the very beginning of the story she is already a presence in multiple POV character's lives, even if her role in the story and her characterisation is weak; She is Sansa's friend, Arya's bully, even Catelyn mentions her and in relation to Robb, but we don't ever see her interacting with her father and none of those characters seems very concerned of her well-being. I don't even know if Ned was planning on sending her with Arya & Sansa or if she was supposed to stay with her father. She later ascends a bit by becoming a secondary but fundamental character in Theon's POV and the Northern plot.

Kyra however is a blank page with a name. This isn't meant as something derogatory. I still have flashbacks of my 2016 experience in this fandom and the way the only kyra stan I ever met would wage a war on jeyne p fans. This isn't my intention.

With exception of Theon there are four other characters that are mentioned to have interacted with her.

Bessa, another serving wench who is implied to have participated on a threesome with her and Theon some time before Bran V, AGOT (Oooh she and Theon were bi4bi!)

Wex Pyke, is mentioned to have slept at the foot of Theon's bed, a bed on which Kyra slept as well. (Oooh Dog imagery and the implied possible witnessing of rape!)

Ramsay Snow...not going to write that. We all know what happened.

Ben Bones, "[...] Even if we do escape, Lord Ramsay will hunt us down, him and Ben Bones and the girls." generalised statement by Theon during his escape with Jeyne. Ben Bones isn't mentioned in relation to Kyra and him being caught during their failed escape.

These aren't even brief versions of her connections, I'm reaching out with many of them.

What else do we know about her?

Ok. She is a serving wench and probably works at the Smoking Log (Source: Bran)

She blushes easily and seems to be embarrassed by public talks of her sex life (Source: Theon)

She seems like an eager lover and seemed to be excited when Theon first took her to Winterfell (Source: Theon)

She had never been at the castle before (Source: Theon)

She acted as the big spoon as they slept together (Source: Theon)

She still refers to Theon as "M'lord" during early ACOK, even if the aforementioned positioning of the two would have us believe there might be more emotional intimacy or closeness between the two (Source: Theon)

Theon raped her (Source: Theon)

Ramsay possibly raped her (Source: Ramsay saying he wanted to bed her)

She was taken prisoner with the other women and children who were at Winterfell after Ramsay sacked the castle. (Source: Theon)

At some point she managed to set herself free, stole the keys to Theon's cell, liberated him, asked him to help her back to Winterfell and failed (Source: Theon)

She threw a rock at Ramsay when he caught her and Theon again, and missed by a foot (Source: Theon)

She was mauled to death by hounds (Source: Theon)

Ramsay named a hound meant to kill other women during future hunts after her (Source: Theon)

He had run before. Years ago, it seemed, when he still had some strength in him, when he had still been defiant. That time it had been Kyra with the keys. She told him she had stolen them, that she knew a postern gate that was never guarded. "Take me back to Winterfell, m'lord," she begged, pale-faced and trembling. "I don't know the way. I can't escape alone. Come with me, please." And so he had. The gaoler was dead drunk in a puddle of wine, with his breeches down around his ankles. The dungeon door was open and the postern gate had been unguarded, just as she had said. They waited for the moon to go behind a cloud, then slipped from the castle and splashed across the Weeping Water, stumbling over stones, half-frozen by the icy stream. On the far side, he had kissed her. "You've saved us," he said. Fool. Fool. It had all been a trap, a game, a jape. Lord Ramsay loved the chase and preferred to hunt two-legged prey. All night they ran through the darkling wood, but as the sun came up the sound of a distant horn came faintly through the trees, and they heard the baying of a pack of hounds. "We should split up," he told Kyra as the dogs drew closer. "They cannot track us both." The girl was crazed with fear, though, and refused to leave his side, even when he swore that he would raise a host of ironborn and come back for her if she should be the one they followed. Within the hour, they were taken. One dog knocked him to the ground, and a second bit Kyra on the leg as she scrambled up a hillside. The rest surrounded them, baying and snarling, snapping at them every time they moved, holding them there until Ramsay Snow rode up with his huntsmen. He was still a bastard then, not yet a Bolton. "There you are," he said, smiling down at them from the saddle. "You wound me, wandering off like this. Have you grown tired of my hospitality so soon?" That was when Kyra seized a stone and threw it at his head. It missed by a good foot, and Ramsay smiled. "You must be punished." Reek remembered the desperate, frightened look in Kyra's eyes. She had never looked so young as she did in that moment, still half a girl, but there was nothing he could do. She brought them down on us, he thought. If we had separated as I wanted, one of us might have gotten away. - Reek I, ADWD

A few things:

2) Kyra's own involvement

I've often seen people take Theon's inner thoughts as a fact. Most of us are convinced that this was all something Ramsay planned all along, that any possible escape was frustrated from the very beginning. I have often even seen fan works in which Kyra knows and tells Theon that Ramsay is planning to hunt them, but when looking closer to the text I find it difficult to believe that everything was a set up. In Theon's memories he mentions how the gaoler was drunk and had his breeches down, which I think implies that maybe it was Kyra who deliberately planned this. That maybe it was her who orchestrated him getting frunk and eventually also had sex with him, perhaps to get closer and take the keys. "She knew a poster gate that was never guarded" also implies that she wasn't held prisoner in the same way Theon was, but maybe was set up to become a slave/servant like Arya at Harrenhall and spent enough time roaming "free" to notice such things. If this was the case and it was her plan instead of Ramsay (who might or might not have maybe set up her environment and conditioned her thoughts of escape) then I think we can maybe add some other traits to her characterisation; we can assume she is observant, resilient and very brave.

3) I wanted to name this section "The Kiss" but then Klimt came to mind so we are naming it Frame 00:09:31 and Frame 00:09:38 of Belladonna of Sadness (tw the links for artistic depictions of the aftermath of rape)

There is often speculation going on whether the lack of something textual in these books can be seen as proof for something else. Canon romantic Jon/Sansa and the idea that Dany considers the Dothraki subhuman are often backed up by this sort of thought process (I admittedly don't believe in any of the aforementioned examples) but I don’t think we’ve ever seen it used in cases like that of Kyra, where I personally find it more fitting. Particularly when it comes to that scene and how Theon doesn't describe her response. I have always seen people take this as something reciprocal and sometimes even beautiful, and Theon internally chastising himself as he thinks of it is often attributed to thinking there was a chance of escape, when it could as well be him chastising himself because he kissed her without really considering how frightening the entire situation must have been for her. Her reasoning for setting him free is that he knows how to go back, not that she loves him or has forgive him. She is said to tremble as she pleads for help, her face is pale, and I can't help but wonder if part of her fear also came from having to beg her rapist to accompany her in her escape.

Based on her throwing a stone at Ramsay, who probably raped her in the past, I like to believe that when he kissed her she screamed, bit Theon and pushed him away.

4) The Girl

There are a few things in that text about Theon & Kyra that in hindsight remind me of Theon & Jeyne.

Some of it is relatively obvious and I have mentioned it in the past, such as the

"You've saved us," he said. - Reek I, ADWD

"You saved me," Jeyne had whispered, - Theon I, TWOW

and

"We should split up," he told Kyra as the dogs drew closer. "They cannot track us both." The girl was crazed with fear, though, and refused to leave his side, [...] If we had separated as I wanted, one of us might have gotten away. - Reek I, ADWD

"Stay close to me," Jeyne said. "Don't leave me." "I will be right beside you," Theon promised - Theon I, ADWD

but also

"Take me back to Winterfell, m'lord," she begged, pale-faced and trembling. "I don't know the way. I can't escape alone. Come with me, please." - Reek I, ADWD

He put a finger to her lips. "We can talk about that later. You need to be quiet now. Come with us. With me. We will take you away from here. Away from him." - Theon I, ADWD

and

Reek remembered the desperate, frightened look in Kyra's eyes. She had never looked so young as she did in that moment, still half a girl, but there was nothing he could do. - Reek I, ADWD

The eyes of the bride were brown. Big and brown and full of fear. It was not right that she should look to him for rescue. - The Prince of Winterfell, ADWD

Overall my perception of things tells me that there was a drastic change in Theon's character after her death. It is him who this time has comed up with a plan and has to beg/repeatedly ask for someone else to accompany him. Something I find peculiar is how he describes fear being visible through their eyes and the sight of it makes him feel guilt over his lack of agency.

When comparing his behaviour during the failed escape and the flight we see that he no longer plans on leaving Jeyne in order to escape by himself (and we see him prove that during TWOW when he comments on how her ribs broke so HE CARRIED HER jdsfskdjfnsdkjf aren't you supposed to be emaciated???). And while I find that a very noble development, as I consider salvation to be symbiotic, it leads me to wonder:

5) The AU

So many fanworks often depict Theon holding her hand and going ahead as they run, it's a beautiful image but it doesn't follow into what the canon is telling us.

Kyra being the active one in this event, her having to be the one who not only approaches Theon with thoughts of escape but also begs for his help, implying he might have been hesitant at first, she being the one who refuses to leave him although he is set off on their(/his?) chances of a successful escape being higher if they part ways, all this points to him probably not wanting to hold her hand through it, much less lead her through his same path.

And then I think of Theon's promise

The girl was crazed with fear, though, and refused to leave his side, even when he swore that he would raise a host of ironborn and come back for her if she should be the one they followed. - Reek I, ADWD

Would he? Would he have returned with a host if ironborn to get her? I don't think he would have. I don't think he was consciously lying to her or that he would just forget of her and leave with no remorse and never think of her again. I think it would have become inconvenient to return and he would have told himself it is impossible and she would haunt him nonetheless, but what consolation is that for her?

If he had miraculously managed to get to his sister or to Dagmer Cleftjaw, had miraculously managed to rapidly heal and regain his strength, would he have been able to get himself a host of loyal ironborn that would follow him far far far into the land, away from the realms of he who dwells beneath the waves, just to save some random girl he used to bed? Ad given how emotionally constipated is, how introverted, how he rarely displays vulnerability, what could he have said in order to change their mind?

Even her physical appearance, something that Theon, a somewhat libidinous young man, might have remarked on, is omitted. She doesn't have thick auburn hair, which could have made some readers use her as "proof" for him being "psychosexually" (another word most people in here don't know how to define but will use regardless) attracted to Robb/Sansa/Cat. The eyes of the girl aren't "big and brown" for me and a few other delusional people to claim as "foreshadowing" for a future romance. There aren't any mentions of her having a sharp nose that could have made us think of her as a semblance of his own family back at the Islands. There is nothing. She is nothing.

Sometimes we readers attempt to give closure to Kyra through fan work; I have seen art depicting her as a ghost "forgiving" Theon, there are fics in which Theon takes care of the hound that was named after her or (I am guilty of this too) him taking care of Jeyne is somehow seen by the narrative as atonement for his past mistreatment of Kyra. None of these works are inherently bad or disrespectful and I can appreciate what they do and I enjoy many of them (@/ghostlyturncloaks has a very beautiful fic involving Theon and Kyra, the hound), but none of them will give Kyra, the actual Kyra who used to breath and was then killed by hounds, closure because that is simply impossible to do given how she is not a real character compared to those who surround her. When people in this fandom talk about "stanning the girls who suffer/are victims" it is often done either in a holier-than-thou light or in a derogative manner but it never refers to Kyra because Kyra isn't allowed to be a person in the text.

Taking care of Jeyne or the hound won't make things right for her and there are no reasons for her to forgive Theon when Theon refuses to even think of the act with indisputable textual remorse. We can read between the lines and realise that Theon feels guilt, the fact she "and her keys" haunt him is already proof of that, but does he feel guilt for her terrible death, for him raping her, for how little he valued her as a person or for all of these together?

And I don't think that Theon is inherently a bad person for not valuing her and not being interested in her as a person, I think such situations are cruelly casual and rarely intentional. I think most people across their life will come to realise that they should have valued someone more. Our feelings aren't reciprocal and that isn't necessarily a sign of vileness. And, to my shame, I admit that part of my obsession with my unlucky trio of Jeyne, Falia and Kyra is somewhat motivated by my own feelings of depersonalisation and overall worthlessness and irrelevance.

It is difficult to explain, at most I can maybe compare it to the way Dany has managed to appeal to so many woc through her journey. Cersei, Dany, Arya and Sansa are all well written, interesting and profound characters that will go down in history both in and out of universe as such. Kyra won’t, neither will Falia, the Jeynes might have but they weren’t enough and were quickly replaced without many mourning that change in the way we mourn Daenerys' popularised end game as a mad queen or Arya's popularised endgame as a badass assassin without any nuisance. And I can understand why! This anger is purely mine!

With Kyra there is a world to explore, but only as long as Theon is no longer there. We can't give her a respectful characterisation if our only source and voice is that of Theon, if we were to that it would probably be highly ooc. But then again we can't even interact with her without Theon being in the picture. What happened to Bessa? Was she killed during the Winterfell sack? Were they friends? I imagine they were close if the two worked together and also had a threesome. Did she feel fear and maybe a pang of jealousy when she saw her being summoned to the castle to never come back to their inn? Did Kyra have a family? Maybe they were working the fields in the late summer/early autumn and were hoping to see her in winter again. I will be arrogant by referring to the images meme I recently made for her but yeah, Nathaniel Russel's fake fliers you will go down in my memory:

Even something as benign and well meaning as giving her a face, be it by a film/show/comic-adaptation or fan art, is somewhat counterproductive to what I think might have been aimed by the writer through her being a faceless pain. A face can make someone become sympathetic or interesting, meanwhile Kyra is pain unbridled and without any mentioned outer or inner beauty to get us to be invested in her. I might have my headcanons for her, with and without Theon, but I am not meant to have them.

The most common Tumblr tag for the sharing of Kyra related posts is "#kyra and her keys" and although this will be perceived by may as a holier than thou attitude I think it speaks on itself that we readers, the few readers who care enough about Kyra to dedicate a post to her, have decided to refer to her with a concept Theon chose for her. We define her through Theon without any real consideration for her own feelings. "#kyra asoiaf" has about three posts last I checked.

#my thesis was mildly related to all this and now that I know it will never see the light of the day + everything + the kyra image meme #I've been having feelings about her and yeah those aren't nice.#Its weird because officially cerse¡ and d@ny are my favourite female characters but I don't think about them nearly as much as I think abou #kyra of winter town #je¥ne p and w and f@lia #speaking #asoiaf #the narrative didn't doom me it just ditched me

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