#theon greyjoy x y/n
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Lookalike (I)
Summary: When Jon Snow’s name day arrives, Theon Greyjoy hires you as a gift for him. But will you awake feelings they’ve been trying to hide from themselves?
WC: 2.9k words
Warnings: Canon divergence. Smut. Role play. Virginity Kink. Innocence Kink. Dirty talk. Prostitution.
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Masterlist
You were wearing your prettiest dress when you arrived at Winterfell, riding your horse into the gates just as the sun set down.
It was very nice, looking like a lady sometimes, with your hair up and people looking at you respectfully, and not trying to take a bite out of you.
The guards even let you step inside, and one of them showed you a place where your old girl could rest and eat a little bit, and didn’t ask you too many questions.
You weren’t even finished tying her into place when the young ward who’d brought you here arrived to get you.
Theon Greyjoy.
You were very familiar with him. This wasn’t the first time you saw one another - and probably wouldn’t be the last - but your interaction was new. All of the other times, it was he who came to you, visiting your brothel, but tonight seemed to be special enough that he had requested that you came to see him in Winterfell.
“My lady,” he smirked at you, cocky.
“Lord Greyjoy,” you scoffed, picking your bag from her.
Very funny of him.
“Oh, come on,” he rolled his eyes and gestured to you. “You are wearing away too much for a whore.”
You shook your head, moving to his side, and he slapped your ass, pulling your body close.
“Let me see what’s underneath that under a better light,” he teased you.
You skimmed away from him, slapping his hand out of the way.
“I don’t think Lord Stark will appreciate you groping a whore in his yard,” you remarked. “Much less my presence in his castle.”
He scoffed.
“I told them you are here to assist in the kitchen,” he told you. “And you are going to leave tomorrow because you were intimidated by me. It’s simple.”
Gods, what a mess.
“Oh, yes,” you taunted him. “Intimidated by the big and strong ward of Winterfell. Oh, Lord Greyjoy, don’t seduce me, I’m saving myself for farmboy lover. He promised he will marry me as soon as his father allows it.”
Your words were very quick to sour his mood, and he grabbed your elbow.
“Just get inside,” he grunted. l
You followed Theon through the walls silently. Winterfell was a big castle, and a true fortress. One could walk through it for days and never see all of it.
"What's in the bag?" he threw a look over his shoulder as you walked into his chambers.
When the owner of your brothel told you to come, she said Theon wanted you to look like you were going to stay in the castle, and not spend a single night. So, as to look convincing, you took your trip as a time you could use to buy a few supplies for yourself and the other girls.
"Needles, fabric, some herbs, oils..." you listed. "Nothing you would be interested in.'
He perked up.
"Is it a special kind of oil?" he asked. "Because I want to stretch you out, little whore."
You wanted to scoff but knew not to push it. Theon wasn't the biggest man you had ever had in your life, though he wanted you to act like he was.
"Some of them," you raised your chin. "Some are just to make us smell good."
He pulled you close, and this time you didn't reject him, just stretching your neck to the side so he could sniff you.
"And you always smell so good, don't you?" he ran his nose on your skin.
“I do,” you hummed.
Theon pulled away suddenly, and you watched as he moved to his bedside.
“Well, I need you to smell different tonight,” he loosened his cloak, tossing it on his bed. “You are… a bit of a gift tonight.”
You watched him closely. Of course, you knew this wasn’t a simple visit. You weren’t dumb to think he just wanted to change his usual environment.
“I believe you heard that Lord Stark’s bastard just recently turned 18,” he pointed out. “Jon Snow.”
There was no one in the Seven Kingdoms who hadn’t heard of Jon Snow. Lord Stark’s only fault, the torn in his flash. His little bastard boy.
The event, of course, was overshadowed by Lord Stark’s firstborn’s nameday, just a few days before his dear brother.
“And I’m his nameday gift?” you asked.
He grabbed a little bottle of oil and dangled it in his hands, walking to you.
“And since I’m a good friend, I got him the best whore in Wintertown,” he smirked.
He opened the bottle, and raised it to your nose, so you could give it a little sniff before he dabbed it on the two sides of your neck.
It was a rose perfume - and a very expensive one, considering how strong it smelt.
“So tomorrow, you are going to bathe, and put on this sweet oil,” he closed the bottle again. “You’ll braid your hair all nicely, and wear that pretty dress of yours, and you are going to surprise our Lord Snow.”
Tomorrow.
“And tonight?” you asked.
Theon smirked.
“You don’t think I would have you come all the way here and then not fuck you, right?” he asked.
You simply nodded. It made a lot of sense.
“And you’re going to fuck me in your bed?” you teased him.
“All night long,” he moved his hands to your dress, untying from around your waist. “It might be his nameday, but he isn’t the only one who deserves some fun, right?”
Theon kissed your lips before you could think much more, and you let him guide you along as your dress fell to the floor, and he did the same thing with the shift you were wearing underneath for warmth before pulling you along to his bed.
“You are a very sweet whore,” he touched your chin, raising your chin and moving his thumb over your lips. “But I need you to be an innocent girl for me tonight. That’s how you’ll be for Jon."
You raised your eyebrows in surprise.
“Innocent?” you asked.
Theon pushed your hair out of your shoulders, caressing your skin.
“An innocent little girl,” he spoke softly. “A virgin whore, if I may say.”
You had never been a virgin whore. A virgin? Yes. A whore? You’ve been that for a long time, but you were already fucking when you decided it was best to be paid for it.
“Milord,” you shuddered. “I… maybe you’ve asked for the wrong woman? I’ve… I’ve never done it before, I’ve never been with a man.”
His face showed a bit of confusion for a moment, but Theon relaxed the moment he seemed to understand.
"Oh, no, I did not," Theon purred, brushing back your hair. "You think I haven’t seen you? Teasing me down the halls? As your bosom blossoms…”
You forced your face to stay innocent as he spoke, and he caressed your neck.
"Do you know how much I wanted to have you for me, pretty girl?" he asked you.
You shook your head.
"I wanted to be your first man," he cooed. "Show you how good you can feel, how much pleasure I can give you."
"But milord!" you gasped. "We aren't even married."
Theon chuckled.
"You are going to be a virgin whore for Jon," he reminded you, very stern. "But to me..."
You waited. Of course.
"We don't have to be married, little love," he spoke softly. "It's alright."
He moved his face to your neck, kissing your skin, and you shivered.
"What about my father?" you gasped.
Theon licked and nibbled on your skin.
"Don’t worry about out that," he whispered. "It won't count."
He took his hands to your breasts, caressing your naked tits, pinching your skin.
“We won’t do much,” he promised. “I won’t spill inside you.”
You rubbed your thighs together, a little more excited than you wished he knew.
It was a sweet scenario, this one. One you had thought about in the nights when you had to warm your own cunt and make yourself wet for clients with good gold, but not much consideration.
Theon wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, carrying you to his bed and tossing you on it, and you were quick to close your legs and pull his cloak to cover your body, earning a lustful look from him.
“It’s alright, my little maiden,” he reached for you, taking your foot and slowly massaging it. “Don’t you trust me?”
You gulped, but nodded, knowing better than to drag this.
“I trust you, milord,” you whispered.
Theon smirked wickedly.
“Such a sweet girl.”
He reached for you, and undressed you once again.
“So pretty,” he purred. “Look at those perky little tits. I can’t believe you hide them away.”
You covered your tits with your half-assedly.
"Mother says I'm still young," you affirmed, feigning embarrassment. "That they'll still grow more."
He hummed along, clicking his tongue.
“I can make them grow for you,” he cooed. “Make your tits big and heavy, if you want to.”
You eyed him suspiciously.
“How?”
Theon smirked and climbed on top of you, kissing your collarbones before moving his lips to your breasts, and kissing your tit before wrapping his lips around your nipple, licking and sucking on it.
You gasped at the sudden touch, but soon it became a moan as he continued to lick, and suck and nibble, pulling on your nipple with his teeth scrapping your skin, and using his free hand to knead and squeeze your free breast before repeating his mouth movements with his fingers.
“You’re such a beauty,” he moved his lips away from your skin, moving his hands to your legs. “Men are going to kill for you, but they won’t know I was the first… the first one you let in…”
Theon kissed your stomach, licking the skin of your navel, and you shuddered.
He wasn’t… was he?
“The first one who ever got to get his eyes on this cunt,” he hummed. “And such a pretty cunt it is.”
You squirmed under his gaze, a little unease. Men didn’t take a lot of time looking at your cunt. Maybe at your tits, and at your naked bodies, but they never gazed at your cunt.
“Look at those fiery red locks,” he exhaled, touching you with his finger, and you sucked in a breath, startled.
Theon looked up at you, but didn’t seem much interested in the reasoning behind it.
“Pretty lady,” he rubbed you up and down, from your entrance to the button above it. “With a pretty cunt.”
You squirmed.
“Milord,” you whimpered. “What are you doing?”
“My Lord,” he corrected you softly.
“My lord,” you repeated.
He hummed along, reaching for you, and his finger reached your entrance, circling it slowly.
“Fingering you, sweet girl,” he said simply.
You panted, eager. His finger was slowly circling you, dipping in and then pulling out, not giving you anything.
“But my maidenhead,” you protested.
Theon didn't seem any detained, once again dipping his finger and pulling back.
"It won't break with just my fingers," he rested her leg on his shoulder.
A blatant lie, clearly.
"Are you sure?" you panted, a little needy.
Would he just fucking put that finger in?
"I am, my little lady," he kissed her thigh. "And you trust me, don't you? Your sweet Theon."
You nodded, looking for the meaning of his words.
"I do," you shuddered.
He slid a single finger into you, and you relaxed in relief, whimpering when he just pushed a second one right after, probably thinking it didn't matter for a whore like you.
"There you go," he purred. "There you go, my sweet lady."
"Theon," you moNed, not stopping to correct yourself.
He squeezed your thigh a little closer, curling his fingers.
"Yes, my sweet lady " he exhaled. "Do you like it when I touch you?"
"Yes," she confirmed, breathless.
He moved up your body, kissing your neck and chest as he fingered you, spreading you open, so sweet and patient he didn't even feel like himself.
"Theon," you whined as he pushed a third finger.
He angled his hand, and you moaned when the heel of his hand finally came to rub your bud.
Seven hells, you just wanted to peak! Couldn't he be merciful?
"Theon," you whined. "Please."
He nuzzled your neck.
"Please what, my sweet lady?"
You bit back your tongue.
"I... I..." you stuttered. "I don't know, just... Please. Please."
"Here?" he pressed harder against your bud. "This place, sweet girl?"
"Yes," you gasped.
He hummed along.
"And what do you need?" he purred.
You squirmed, and he fucked you harder with his fingers.
"I don't know," you arched your hips.
Greyjoy nearly growled.
"My sweet little lady," he cooed. "Your cunt is squeezing my fingers so much. Don't you know what that means?"
"It's strange," you panted. "I feel strange."
"It's alright," he assured you. "It's going to feel food in just a second. Let it happen, sweet girl."
You closed your eyes, moaning and arching your body, letting the pleasure take you.
"Theon," you cried. "Theon!"
"Peak for me, sweet girl," he hummed into your neck. "Let me feel your cunt squeeze my fingers, my lady."
You finally broke, peaking and crying as he continued to fuck you and play with you.
"There you go," he whispered into your neck. "There you go, sweet Sansa."
And finally, it made sense.
This wasn't the first time someone hinted or outrightly said you looked like Lady Sansa. You were older than her, and she was much prettier, but in the dark, all tall girls with red hair and blue eyes could be the daughter of the Lord of Winterfell.
All men wanted to fuck noble ladies. Many wanted to fuck the young innocent daughter of Lord Stark.
His ward wasn't any different.
He kissed you right after, devouring your lips hungrily, holding you close with his free hand.
“Theon,” you panted.
“Let me show you more,” he settled between your legs, and you could feel his hard cock against your entrance. “Please, sweet girl.”
You rubbed your nose on his.
“Sansa,” you whispered to him. “I’m your Sansa, Theon.”
His cock twitched under you.
“Sweet Sansa,” he held you tighter. “Let me make you feel good.”
You moaned, arching your hips, and he his cock into you, the thick head breaching your cunt’s entrance.
“You want me don’t you?” he hissed into your neck, breathing in deep, sniffing your perfumed skin. “Sneaking glances at me at dinner, letting me listen to your sweet songs?”
“I do,” you panted.
He pushed more into you.
“I want you so much,” you panted. “My Theon.”
Theon pulled your hips up tight, lifting your legs and putting them on his shoulders as he pushed his cock deep into you, making you gasp.
“I’ll fucking show you,” he growled. “I’ll be so good for you, sweet Sansa, I promise I will.”
You put your arms around his body, squeezing him close, knowing he wanted his fanstasy and giving it to him.
His hips moved in a sweet pace, fucking you slowly, as if to a little virgin he wanted to cherish and didn’t want to hurt.
“I’ll mark you as mine,” he nosed your neck, hungry. “Gonna breed you, give you a baby.”
You moaned, holding him closer.
“I’ll make you the lady of the Iron Islands,” he growled into your neck. “Fill that place with little redhead boys, show everyone how I fuck you every night, I’ll keep you pregnant all the time.”
Fucking beast of a man.
“Yes, Theon,” you moaned, and cried when his cock hit your sweet spot. “Please, make me your wife.”
His hand moved to your mouth, quickly covering it up with his hand.
“Careful, sweet Sansa,” he panted. “You father mustn’t know.”
You nodded, though still moaned when his cock brushed against your sweet spot again.
Theon was a fast learner. When he felt generous, he knew exactly when to make you feel pleasure.
And right now, you were his sweet Sansa, of course he would want you to feel the most pleasure.
Your peak threatened you again, and you arched your hips to him.
“Theon,” you panted, innocent, against his hand. “It’s… please… again.”
He growled into your neck.
“You’re going to peak for me again, sweet Sansa?” he asked. “I can feel your cunt squeezing my cock. Such a strong grip, my little maiden.”
“Please,” you panted. “I don’t know-”
“It’s alright,” he kissed your skin. “I can do it for you, sweet girl. Just take it. Keep giving me your sweet moans and I’ll do everything for you.”
You let him, and just rode your pleasure, peaking around his cock and taking it when you felt him trembling over you, spilling into your cunt as you still felt the sweet shocks.
He stayed inside you for a moment, tangled with you, sniffing your neck and holding you close, and you could feel the moment he remembered who he was laying with. Not his sweet Sansa, but just a whore.
“Alright,” he huffled, pulling away from you. “You can go now. Come back before the sun is down and I’ll help you dress up right to go to Jon.”
You frowned, confused.
“Go?” you asked. “Where?”
He rolled his eyes.
“Go down to the servants quarters or something,” he grunted. “They are waiting for a kitchen girl, anyway.”
You sighed, but picked up your things, dressing up and putting on your cloak, grabbing your bag.
“Fine,” you mumbled.
“I’ll pay you when you are done with Jon,” he warned you.
You nodded before leaving.
At least you would have a warm bed for the night.
. . .
"Lookalike" was posted on my Patreon back in October 2022! To read it before anyone else and have early access to my stories, consider subscribing to my page! It's just $2 a month, and it helps a lot!
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Be With Me
✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Robb Stark x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ When Robb over hears of your potential marriage, he cannot stand the idea of loosing you to some random lord.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Be with Me” by Ramin Djawadi. It was heavily inspired by the cave scene with Jon and Yigrette. P.S… IM BACK!!
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.4k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, sexual content, swearing, injuries, mentions of death, oral (male receiving), discussion of marriage…
(I’m saying it again! This was heavily inspired by the cave scene that involved Jon and Yigrette!!)
You walk out of the medic tent with a limp, It’s more than obvious that you were injured, and you feel the stares from other soldiers as your eyes are narrowed.
Robb caught up to you, grabbing your shoulder to make you turn around, “What was that?” Robb immediately said, “You thought it best to throw yourself into a fight?”
“A sword was coming from behind, you were too bothered to even notice.” You shake his hand off your shoulder and continue walking.
Robb grumbles a couple of words before speeding up to catch you, “I saved your life.” He piped up.
“No, I did.” You corrected him, you kept your eyes forward as you walked to your tent, “If I didn’t throw myself into the battle… You know I’d die for you.”
It makes Robb scoff rather loudly, ignoring your last words, “Let’s say you saved me. What about the other time or the other one?” Robb lifts an eyebrow, “You still owe me two more.”
“I owe you quite a lot, my lord.” You tell him, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to check the horses.”
He grabs your cloak tightly and pulls you back, nearly making you fall to the ground. You look up at him confused and angry.
He suddenly snatches your sword out of your scabbard, “I’ll take your sword as payment.” He then scurries away, you can hear him laughing.
“W-What?” You stand shocked for a moment before realizing what is happening, “Robb! Come back here, dammit!” You shout, chasing after him, “Robb fucking Stark! Give me my sword!”
You run after him, tumbling on a few rocks but don’t fall… Somehow. As much as you’re a fighter, Robb was a runner.
He ran so easily and didn’t take a second to look back and stop to give you some kind of better start.
“If you want it back, you’ll have to steal it back!” He runs from the camp and into a random cave. A random cave to you. You didn’t know the North like he did.
The cave is heated by a natural hot spring, which forms a waterfall and a pool. The rocks glistening from the humidity from the water and the light shining through.
Robb sets his sword against the rocks and begins to undo his armor. He starts with his gloves, crumbling them up and tossing them besides the sword.
Your peer your head into the cave, you rush into the cave when hear him, “Seven fucking hells, Robb-!” You loudly shout, but stop in your tracks.
“I heard from my mother that you were supposed to marry some random Lord.” He spoke with a hint of venom in his voice, he pulls off his brown leather boots, “Which means you’re a maiden.”
You choke on your words as you feel your face become warm at his bluntness.
He unties and unbuttons his armor, setting it down carefully, “I always wanted to beat the lord dead, just imagining you in his grasp made me feel so angry.”
Robb turns his back to your as his arms cross and grab the hem of his dirty shirt, he’s swift and impatient, tearing free from the constraints of fighting and riding.
His hands come to the strings of his breeches, “I wanted to be the one to marry you… To kiss you…” Until his breeches drop to the ground. He steps out of them, “To love you…”
Robb turns back to you, he is completely bare in front of you. You could see light bruises and scrapes on his body but little scars. They were faded but still there, it added to his muscular body. He was so beautiful… So perfect… So flawless…
Your eyes flicker around the cave and your eyes only set sights on him once. They move to the ground and you hear his soft steps against the wet stone.
He slowly closes the space in between you both until his face his near yours.
You feel Robb’s breath, one of his hands comes to your cheeks and cups it. But when he leans into you for a kiss, you pull back.
You swallow thickly and turn your head, “We shouldn’t, Robb.” You mumble under your breath, “We can’t be doing this.”
“Then look me in the eyes and say it. Tell me that you don’t want to go any further.” He says, and he slowly turns his head to eventually look at him, “Go on, tell me.”
You knew what was waiting for you back at home, you knew that the second you stepped foot back into your home, your life would be over, even more if your parents found out.
“Do you want to marry that lord?” Robb whispers in your ear, “Do you want a marry a man with selfish desires?” You could hear the pain in his voice, “Because my heart would not stand the idea of it… My heart is yours, it has been from the start, ever since your mother met mine, ever since you watched me train that day. Do you feel as I do?”
“I do.” You shakily answer him. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close and then you feel his lips on yours.
As your eyes shut and kiss him, you can feel yourself crying. You don’t know but he sees it, he does his best to keep you distracted and focused on him.
But you seem to have other ideas…
Once you manage to calm down and enjoy the kiss for a few more minutes, taking a couple of seconds to catch your breath before returning… Your hands move down his body and you slowly begin to kneel, planting kisses down his chest.
Robb chuckles, “Come back up, I wanna-” A sudden moan leaves his mouth when he feels your mouth wrap around his hard cock.
He throws his head back and allows himself to moan loudly. He was confined in the cave, just with you and no one else to see or hear. He closes his eyes and his hand comes to your head to move faster.
“F-Fuck!” His voice cracks as he curses, “H-How are you so-” He grunts and hisses, watching you close as you get him off.
Moments later, Robb is lying on the warm stone ground with you by his side… His fingers graze over your skin as he listens to the water pouring, feeling the warmth coming from the hot spring beside them.
Robb looks down at you with a grin, “How did you know to do that?” He questions you with an eyebrow raised.
You shrug, “I didn't learn it from anyone, I just wanted to. You looked like you enjoyed it.” You drag your nails over his chest.
“Surely there must’ve been a man you practice with.” Robb sits up, he’s genuinely curious but still playful, “Was it Theon? Or Jon?”
You swat at his leg and he snickers in response, “I swear, Robb. There wasn’t any other man.”
“So you are a maiden or were.” Robb stands and grabs your hand to help you up, “Join me, would you?” You didn’t need to say anything, he could see the answer in your eyes.
He leads you into the hot spring, feeling the warm water make contact with your skin. You wrap your arms around his waist and lay your head on his chest.
“They may be looking for us.” You tell him, unsure what to do now as you are held in his arms.
“I know.” Robb huffs as he rubs your back, “But let’s stay for a little longer…. I don’t wish to leave.” He holds you even tighter and places a kiss on the top of your head, “I do not wish to lose you once this is all over.”
“I… I’m sure I can convince my parents somehow. My mother could easily be swayed, but my father-”
“I’ll deal with him.” Robb interrupts you, “I’ll talk to my mother about it. There’s no way I cannot lose you to that man.”
Robb then moves to cup your face, swiping his thumb over his cheek, “Let’s not leave for a little longer.” He pulls you into another kiss, adjusting you comfortably on his lap.
You shudder and shiver, feeling his cock enter once more, “Don’t let me go.” You say to him, your hands hold grab his shoulders, keeping yourself up.
Once he was sheathed inside of you, Robb finally answers, “There’s no way I’ll let you go. Even if they try to pry my dead body off you, I’ll never let you go.”
© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.
#x reader#x female reader#fluff#robb stark#robb stark x reader#robb stark x y/n#robb stark x you#game of thrones#game of thrones x y/n#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones smut#Jon son#theon greyjoy#robb stark smut#robb x reader
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Valentine’s Day with GOT/HOTD babes modern
A/N: A quick idea for you guys and my present for saying thank you for the support of my writing. It’s been amazing writing for a new fandom and getting new mots y’all are the best! So happy Valentine’s Day from me :) I love you guys 💓 @daenerysapologist @valeskafics
Warnings: grammar/spelling errors, implied smut, marriage proposals, romantic shit
Robb: Okay man is a simp all year round, but Valentine’s Day and your birthday he goes all out each year. Breakfast in bed with your favorite breakfast foods and drinks. Dinner at the restaurant you had your first date at. He’s a sentimental man, like his daddy. Buys you an outfit and takes you out on the town, a walk after dinner. Then takes you back home and you have a nice night in the backyard under blankets looking at the stars. You definitely know how much you are loved with Robb
Theon: A romantic but loves an excuse to buy you stuff without you telling him he’s wasting his money. Wakes you up by kissing you all over and whispering sweet words of love in your ear. Definitely messes with you the whole day, making out in bed, on the counter, where ever he can get you. Gets you a pretty necklace, a nice outfit, a pink lingerie set from Victoria’s Secret (reference to bels cam girl series 💀💖) a good ole fashioned wine and dine with Theon
Jon: Loves Valentine’s Day he gets to show you how much he loves you on that day and your birthday. Jon makes you breakfast in bed, makes the bed, draws you a bath with nice soaps, bath bombs, roses in the water, candles around the tube. Still gets nervous about asking you if he can join the tub. Of course you let him, he lets you lay your back on his chest. Washes your hair and body while kissing you and laughing enjoying the time with you. Would be a guy to propose on that day. I don’t think he would make it a restaurant proposal, more of a scenic view type. Where you two go on walks and relax in nature, he had Sansa and Arya make it all cute with candles, fair lights and pictures.
Jaime: Jaime loves spoiling you no matter what day it is, but is like Robb two days out of the year he goes all out. Wakes you up being under the covers messing with you. Afterwards, he carries you to the kitchen for a breakfast. Tells you to get ready because he’s taking you out for the whole day. Takes you to your favorite places, a little shopping, a cute lunch date at your favorite restaurant, flowers. Then dinner he takes you to a fancy restaurant, gifts you a necklace that has his name. Later on you notice the wait staff is watching you guys. Soon as you ask him what’s going on, you seen him on one knee and a velvet box in hand. He takes you to the place he first said he loved you and tells you how much you mean to him and how he still loves you.
Aegon: Aegon is definitely someone that shows his money off even to you. You love him for him not his family’s money, but that’s his love language. A huge shopping spree, a fancy lunch and dinner, sends you money to get your nails done but request you to get something he wants for the special day.
Aemond: A secret hopeless romantic for his partner all year but valentines is one day he shows it off. Him and Jaime would do the same thing, take you shopping, a nice lunch just the whole day is about you and just you. Aemond would hand write you a poem and would mean every word. Definitely would think about proposing to you that night but wants it to be the perfect moment.
Cregan: My boy is a simp like Robb! Plans this day out after your birthday so it’s a ways a bit from that he plans it out big. Takes you somewhere nice and warm like Hawaii, Costa Rica, Bahamas the week before. A romantic getaway for you two, would definitely propose on the beach at sunset. A nice dinner that’s outside a private beach. tells you how much he loves you and wants to be with you forever. Cregan and Gomez Addams give the same vibes for their partners. Starks are simps in my book
#hotd x reader#hotd x y/n#got x reader#robb stark x y/n#jon snow x reader#theon greyjoy x reader#aemond x reader#aegon x reader#modern hotd#modern got#cregan stark x reader
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𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 — ɢᴏᴛ
A/n: So I am watching Game of Thrones for the first time and I always knew it would be an emotional commitment but damn. The Red Wedding put me in SHAMBLES. I know I’m super late to this fandoms but I’m currently on season six and could not get this fic out of my head until I wrote it. FEEDBACK please! So I’m gonna go watch some more episodes and then email therapist, thanks:)
SUMMARY: Oh to be young and in love. Foolish really, in the Game of Thrones there’s no room for love. Only life and death.
WORD COUNT: 2.4K
WARNING: Season 3 spoilers and Season 4 spoilers.
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The cries that leave her lips are unlike anything Jon has ever heard from her before. He grabs her arms, steadying her as her legs wobble beneath her weight. The cry of the twins drowns into nothing as Jon listens to her sobs in his arms. Samwell coos at the children to ease their sorrow, but they mimic their mother.
“(Y/n), you must gather yourself for your children,” Jon says as she buries herself into his shoulder.
“They have every reason to weep. If anyone learns who they are, who I am, Jon you know we will never be left in peace,” The room stills as Samwell calms the children. His smile falters at (Y/n)’s words, the giggling of the children filling the silence, “Jon?”
He says nothing as he waits for her to speak. Instead, she stares at the twins for several seconds. Eddard’s eyes twinkle as he giggles at the sight of his mother but not his sister. Raina stares as if she understands the news her mother receives, the blue of her eyes and the pull of her eyebrows reminding the world of her father.
“Where’s his body? Where is Catelyn’s body?” Jon inhales sharply, his body tensing as (Y/n) observes him. He tries to assure her that she does not want to know, “Please. I will never get closure if I do not know.”
“They—“He takes a deep breath, glancing at the twins again. Robb shines in his daughter’s eyes as his son wears his gentle stare. Jon’s gaze shifts to (Y/n), pulling her into a sudden hug before he speaks, “They stripped Catelyn naked and threw her body in the river. Robb was beheaded, and they sewed Grey Wind’s head onto his body.”
(Y/n)’ s eyes flutter shut as she grips Jon tightly. The two say nothing as they hold each other. After seconds? Minutes? Hours? (Y/n) pulls back, her voice thick with tears, “Robb always did say I have a pesky habit of being right.”
“(Y/n), you’re back!” Arya rushes to her side, nearly tackling the transient to the ground. “How long are you staying this time? I’ve been practicing what you showed me with shooting arrows. If my father says yes, will you teach me swordplay and hunting like you?”
“Arya, slow down, (Y/n) just arrived, and you crowd her,” The young Stark girl pouts as Robb cuts her short.
“Quite frankly, it is you who crowds me,” (Y/n) crosses her arms, joining Arya’s side, who grins devilishly. Robb closes the space between himself and (Y/n), ignoring his younger sister entirely.
“The seconds I take my eye off of you, you find yourself gone by the fortnight usually less,” Robb says, flicking your necklace holding a Stark sigil pendant, “Nothing has changed. I still intend to marry you.”
His face mere inches from her, she ignores how Arya stomps away, grumbling about her brother. (Y/n) studies his features as she wets her lips with her tongue. Robb watches with his mouth ajar as his eyes focus on her lips. She leans in painstakingly slow with a smirk tugging at her mouth. The moment their lips meet, hers take his own fervently, and she pulls away without warning.
She speaks in an enchanting whisper, with Robb clinging to her presence, “We will never wed, my wolf.”
“You were going to marry. Robb loved you more than anything,” Jon runs his hand down her arm before retreating entirely.
“It does not matter. We did not, and now I raise bastards that the crown will want dead. Descendants of a traitor and usurper,” Eddard calls out Mama holding up his hand to show nothing but slobber and dirt. A weak smile takes her lips at her children, but tired eyes plague her.
“They are Starks, and so are you. Smart and Resilient. The grandchildren of the honorable Eddard Stark, the hand of the King. Son and daughter of Robb Stark, King of the North,” He watches as her eyes do not leave her children. Raina’s unwavering stare, just as intense as her mother's. (Y/n) chuckles wryly, looking off at nothing—her mind elsewhere.
“Are you going to marry my brother?” Sansa asks the second her mother leaves the room. (Y/n) laughs asking if all the Starks await her answer.
“Of course we do. You are perfect for each other; you must be together!” The young girl exclaims, unaware of how cold the real world can be. (Y/n) smiles softly, stuck between pitying and envying the beautiful young Stark.
“You love, love stories, Sansa?” The question pulls an enthusiastic nod from the young girl, “That is the thing, Sansa, they are only stories. Marrying your brother and becoming a Stark is a big decision. Much larger than just love.”
“But one day, you’ll be the Lady of Winterfell. You’ll make little Stark Lords and Ladies. You’ll be happy here,” Sansa’s hopeful smile spreads like a contagion. (Y/n) offers a weak smile, requesting a moment alone in her chambers. At the shut of her door, she stands in front of her mirror, hand on her necklace, allowing a long sigh to pass through her.
“What am I to do, Mother? What would you do?” Her hand on her necklace, running her finger over the pendant she added a few years back.
"I should have heard the advice I tried to teach Sansa. Love stories are merely stories,” She runs her hands over her face as Jon mulls over the past few years. He frowns, unable to phantom the thought of all she must have endured leading up to their reunion at Craster’s Keep. Jon’s sure she was not alone with her children, as she claims.
“You’re wrong,” His voice is low and gruff with a hint of a matter-of-fact tone as Samwell lulls the twins to sleep. She narrows her eyes at the stoic man with skepticism in his eyes.
“Not a chance Jon Snow lectures me on love,” She says, failing to see how Samwell quietly listens in.
“The last time I spoke to Robb, he grinned ear to ear after announcing the betrothal. When we all thought Theon had killed you I sent out a raven but I never heard back from Robb. People say he was devastated. Just because it ended in tragedy does not change the fact your story was one of love.”
She peeks up at Robb as he leans on his elbow, carefully tracing a finger down her spine. The fire and furs keep the room warm as the two lay bare and tangled. Robbs' eyebrows pull together, focusing intently.
“What is on the wolf's mind?” His traces halt before he meets her gaze, a smile painting his lips at the sight of her. The firelight makes her eyes shine, only adding to the features he already finds mesmerizing.
“My father is the hand of the King, so I must assume the responsibilities of Lord of Winterfell,” Robb speaks in a low hum as he studies her face. A sardonic smile takes her lips as a glint shines in her eyes.
“Oh no, Lord of Winterfell! The horror!” (Y/n) rolls away, giggling as Robb playfully grabs her. She struggles beneath his weight until his hands pin her wrists above her head. The following pause consists of heavy panting as she smiles at him. Robb’s smile softens as he catches his breath. The look in his eyes far different than his usual longing stares.
“Sansa is set to marry the Prince. Arya will likely marry some high Lord, and Jon is taking the black. Things are changing (Y/n). I want this, us. Lord and Lady Stark. One day Warden and Wardeness of the North,” Robb loosens his grip on her wrists as he near begs. (Y/n) made sure to steer clear during the arrival of the King and his family. The King, Lord Stark, and the girls were set to leave for Kings Landing and Jon for Castle Black in the morning.
“Why are you so certain in us?” She speaks barely above a whisper as Robb joins her, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling.
“Because I know you, and I can make you happy. A simple life in Winterfell. Name a better match than us,” He challenges, saying his parents' names; the two of you chuckle quietly. The two falling quiet as she imagines the life Robb envisions for her in the North.
She does not dwell on the matter for long; staring up at the ceiling at his side, she cannot deny enjoying his presence. (Y/n) breaks the silence with amusement lacing her tone, “Your family is going to kill us for announcing this just before everyone leaves.”
Robb's head snaps in her direction as if she will disappear when he takes his eyes off her. She bites back her lower lip to reel in the giant smile that threatens her features. It takes Robb a few seconds to process her words before he cups her face. He grins like a madman as he captures her lips into a hasty kiss.
“Let’s marry with all your family in attendance,” She breathes in between kisses as he smothers her with his own lips.
“Our family,” He murmurs against her mouth as she places a gentle hand on his chest, pushing him back.
“You’re rather eager,” She teases; leaning close, he studies her thoroughly. Before holding a mocking tone and wide smile that glimmers in the low light, “We have a very serious responsibility of creating little Lords and Ladies of Winterfell.”
“Oh really?” Her playful smirk and soft chuckle erase all worries of the Starks heading to King's Landing.
“Of course, my Lady. When we have a girl, we shall name her Raina after your mother,” His words make her smile falter, her hand shooting to her necklace, “When she gets older, you can pass your necklace to her.”
“And if we have a boy?” Her eyes mist over as she covers with a gentle smile at his excitement.
“When we have a boy, little Robb Stark, will be second of his name!” Robb’s eyes twinkle as she rolls her own.
“Absolutely not,” She says, rolling to her opposite side, back facing the smirking Stark. He carefully kisses the crook of her neck, journeying up to the shell of her ear. His voice low and raspy, “I’m not done with you yet, Lady Stark.”
The door flying open makes the three rise to their feet. Ser Allister yells at Jon and Samwell that the Wildlings are coming. (Y/n) lifts the twins quickly, managing to not rouse them from their slumber, her sword dangling on her hip.
“Follow me. You can stay with Gilly and Little Sam,” Samwell says cheerily despite the circumstances as Robb exits the room first. Samwell follows behind Jon, and she walks behind them both. At the touch of the crisp North air, (Y/n) pulls the twins a little closer to her chest. She expertly navigates, walking downstairs, holding the two without looking down. At the bottom, Samwell turns left as Jon turns right, leaving (Y/n) to stare at Jon’s retreating figure. Her voice almost catches in her throat before she manages to call out his name. Jon halts, turning to find her staring with furrowed eyebrows and misty eyes.
“I—I can’t take another loss. Truly I am drained.” Her voice wavers as Raina snuggles further into her shoulder. She blinks back tears as Jon approaches her with a look she cannot figure out in his eyes.
“I’ll return to you soon. I promise,” Jon runs his hand gently over Eddard's face. The boy leans into the touch, blissfully unaware of the severity of the situation. (Y/n)’s face pales at his words as she fails to get insight on what the only other person she has left thinks.
“Robb made the same promise. I never saw him again,” Jon meets her weary gaze, sighing deeply at his promise. A promise that can very well be empty, one he cannot guarantee, at the sound of yelling from above marks the end of the conversation. Jon shakes off her words as ensuring she and her children not dying at the hand of Wildings becomes a top priority. Jon leaves her without another word, disregarding the haunted look in her eyes as she watches him walk away. Her eyes linger in his direction for several seconds before Samwell pulls her away.
(Y/n) sits with Brandon on his bed. Her days consist of helping Robb keep Winterfell afloat with both Lord and Lady Stark gone. Besides that, she spends her day keeping the little Lords company. The days seem almost ethereal as if (Y/n) and Robb hold all the happiness in the world.
Like a smokescreen before destruction, word of Lord Stark's arrest brings a halt to (Y/n) and Robb's domestic fantasy. She says nothing as Robb says goodbye to Brandon first. Waiting outside the door, she fidgets with her sleeve. Robb steps out of his brother’s room in full armor, appearing at ease.
“Let me come with you. You’ve seen me with a sword. You know I can handle myself,” (Y/n) pleas, stepping closer to him. He kisses her as if she’s made of glass taking her hands in his own. She sighs as he rubs patterns with his thumb on her palm.
“Exactly why I need you here with Bran and Rickon. In my absence, I gave word that my betrothed is the Lady of Winterfell to aid Bran. So when I return with my father and sisters, we will wed that very night,” The optimism in his tone does little to curb the uneasiness that boils in her chest. He moves to turn down the corridor, but she holds his hands a little tighter. A chuckle leaves his lips as he pulls her into another kiss, leaning his forehead against hers.
“I love you,” She mutters, and he smiles, saying the three words he has told her since they were small children.
“Don’t worry. I’ll return soon. I promise,” Robb says, walking with him to the gate. She lingers back as Robb and Theon speak. Grey Wind whines at her hand, begging her to pet his head which she obliges, muttering for the dire wolf to bring Robb home. At the sight of Robb climbing onto his horse, her mouth dries. Grey Wind runs toward the gates ahead of Robb, who slows and looks back. She wants to say something, anything really, but she does not. Robb flashes her a hopeful smile before riding off. She watches the gates long after Robb disappears from sight, unaware of what he takes with him and all he leaves behind.
#Robb stark#Robb stark imagine#Robb stark x reader#robb stark x y/n#robb stark x you#Game of Thrones#game of thrones imagine#game of thrones au#game of thrones fanfiction#eddard stark#catelyn stark#theon greyjoy#sansa stark#arya stark#brandon stark#rickon stark#grey wind#robert baratheon#cersei lannister#jaime lannister#house of dragons#Jon snow#Jon snow imagine#Jon snow x reader#Jon stark#Jon stark imagine#Jon stark x reader#joffrey lannister#direwolves#iron throne
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Robb: what's are team name?
Theon: oh... I dont know...
Robb: what about Throbb?
Theon: oh, I like that. I like that a lot actually
Robb, trying not to laugh: is that your first time hearing that? Do you know what it means?
Theon: ???what? No? What's it from???
Robb: it's our ship name
Theon: oh god, really?
#gays on the fyp#game of thrones incorrect quotes#game of thrones#incorrect game of thrones quotes#inncorrect game of thrones quotes#theon greyjoy x robb stark#robb stark x theon greyjoy#theon greyjoy x reader#theon greyjoy#theon greyjoy x male reader#theon x robb#theon greyjoy incorrect quotes#robb stark x y/n#robb stark x you#robb stark x reader#robb stark#robb stark x male reader#robb stark gay#starklings
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Like the Wave, She Broke; But Like the Sea, She Persevered
Chapter 2: You are my Best Friend, the Family I Chose, the Home I Found
Previous Chapter, Next Chapter
A Robb Stark X Yi Tish Reader/OC Story
Author's Note: The Reader/OC will be mentioned but not written in this chapter, but she will make an appearance in the next one. I do not own Game of Thrones or ASOIAF or any of GRRM works. But please no hate, but please comment, like, or reblog if you liked reading this story and want me to continue! Also the OC's name and her pet's name are not in Mandarin but in Romanization because the characters in this chapter are thinking in English.
Also many thanks and love to @valeskafics as my beta! Check out her work if you don't follow her already, she's amazing!
Warnings: sexual content, sexual abuse, mentions of SA and r*pe but no descriptions, violence and violent themes, depression, suicidal actions, mentions of PTSD & survivor's guilt, offensive and racist terms, GOT canonical misogyny & sexism, angst (so much angst), and dark/yandere attitudes.
Previously in “Like the Wave, She Broke; But Like the Sea, She Persevered”:
“A place where she would meet another Greyjoy, but a different Greyjoy, a better one. A Greyjoy whose blood was Ironborn, but his heart would be northern. A northern boy whose blood carried the salt of the sea, but whose heart and soul were strengthened and bathed by the snow, the trees, and the winds of northern land. A boy who she distrusted before slowly and surely becoming her found brother, and she becoming his found sister.”
Theon’s POV:
Theon Greyjoy was somewhat of an enigma to most people, and to himself if he dared to be honest. He was known as Robb Stark’s best friend and brother, but Gods Old and New help him if he forgot that he was young Lord’s, no sorry, the young King’s inferior. He was the rakish and obnoxious ward graciously taken in by the honorable Eddard Stark, late Lord of Winterfell and House Stark, Warden of the North. But the term “ward” doesn’t hide the fact that he was their captive, their hostage. A hostage who at the age of ten, was robbed from his family, his culture, his home, after witnessing hundreds of Iron Island sailors and civilians being completely annihilated, just to be plopped down in the middle of a frozen mainland where no one likes him. Ned Stark may never have beaten him, but that didn’t mean the fact that he could with full jurisdiction send Theon to the gallows with a single word, and no one would bat an eye. He was supposed to an Ironborn, except he wasn’t, not since he lived amongst mainlanders for the past decade. He wasn’t a Northerner and couldn’t be a Stark, and he certainly wasn’t an Ironborn and he despised being a Greyjoy. He wished he wasn’t one the moment he stepped foot on the mainland, since he was brought to Winterfell, since he felt the gaze Lady Catelyn Stark’s cold and righteous eyes. But by the Drowned Man, he never hated his family name so much until he knew you.
Oh gods, you. He couldn’t help the sheer pride and love in his smile thinking about you, even in his sorry state. Because despite how his body still healing from the wounds brought by the ambushed arrows, the pure elation and shock from you storming the shit-stained Frey keep with five-thousand men (if he wasn’t so fucking plastered, he would’ve cried) and saving Robb and most of their asses, with minimal losses of only 157 men 158 if you include Talisa. You had even managed to subdue both Roose Bolton and Walder Frey before dragging their asses to the prison cells, along with the rest of their traitorous kin. However, there wasn’t time to celebrate their (really your) victory as you immediately put everyone to work. For someone who worked in the shadows, you looked so natural in organizing the camp to sections reserved for healing those who survived, and preparing the burials for those whose lives were lost. After that, you rushed every lord whose mind was just lucid enough in the largest empty tent. You insisted that finding whoever assisted the Frey’s in this ordeal, as Walder Frey may have been a vile greedy cunt, he wasn’t a tactical mastermind. And while Roose Bolton was an apathetic amoral sociopath, he could never possess the imagination for something so grand scale. After countless sleepless hours, the pieces were all put together, and ice that froze every lord’s blood in learning that this was a premeditated trap engineered by one fucking Lord Tywin Lannister of Casterly Rock. The chaos and fury that followed was a sight to be memorized and passed on for years to come, any lost morale before that moment came back by a thousandfold strong. The southern snakes had really done it now, even if the plan had worked, the North would only drawback until they could strike once more. If there was one thing about the North that would always remain true, it was the fact that the North and its men never forget, especially an act as sacrilegious as what they now call the “Red Wedding”.
Every lord was shouting and screaming out blame, whether it be the execution of Lord Karstark, the release of the Kingslayer, the broken oath to the Frey’s, and on and on did they go. They didn’t stop until Lord Umber blamed on Theon for his father’s invasion to the North (despite that 1) he didn’t even know about the bloody invasion, and 2) he never left the fucking camp), and the usually mild-tempered Daiyu leapt on the table and knocked the Greatjon Umber on his great ass in retaliation. The sight of you in command will never leave him, not even when he had forgotten his own name and was too feeble to wipe his own ass. Even in your most irritable state, you dared not publicly showcase your emotions. But everything from the cold fury in your eyes to the raw determination in your spine, was enough to freeze a dragon’s fire. By reminding everyone while nothing can change the past, this event only further proves how there is no limit to the Lannister’s teachery, and that it was imperative to secure the North’s independence from the Southern leeches. You then told them of how you learned of the plan through a deal with a stranger wearing a red tunic and grey cloak, and that if they managed to survive the treachery, they were to immediately send word to Dragonstone.
“Dragonstone,” shouted out Lord after Daiyu grew bored of him and was now contently purring against Theon’s legs as he stood by you, “why in the seven hells would we send word to Dragonstone? So that we can get pissed over by Stannis Baratheon? How do we know you didn’t just make up the deal so that we could bend the knee to Stannis, or perhaps you’ve been working for the Lannister’s with the Boltons and Frey’s? Well? Answer me you chink-”.
Theon drew out his sword the second before he could finish, “You take those words back and beg for my sister’s forgiveness right now before I cut your tongue out and feed it to my falcon, you rancid shit.” Theon could allow disrespect against him, he grown used to it after all; but he would be flayed, eaten by hounds, and broken to a shell of a man before he allowed anyone to utter a word of disrespect to you, let alone that word. Each of the bannerman’s eyes shifted between the men, as most knew better than insult the mysterious spy from the far orient in the presence of the young Kraken. If Theon was not with their king, he was by his sister’s side, arm over her shoulders and her head on his, more often in silence as words were never needed in order to take comfort in one another.
And the girl was no different in her devotion to her brother, as her protection over him was as ruthless as it was creative. More than once had there been instances of soldiers throughout the camp making claims ranging from mad visions in their sleep to horses stampeding them throughout the woods to those who spoke ill of the Stark’s ward. The bannerman would have demanded their king to call for her head hadn’t her punishments been more amusing than irritating. Not that it would have worked, if there was only one thing the two young men had in common, it was the devout protection they showered the stoic spy. Even when the young king broke his oath to the Frey’s to marry his pretty foreign healer, did he remain true in his defense if anything it only grew. Such was the case with his own direwolf, who although remains steadfast in guarding his currently comatose companion, adored the Yi Tish girl far more than the now late queen if they were honest, as he was often seen being petted and fed scraps by her and even playing with her shadowcat. However, they just reasoned it was due to being acquainted with one another since the pup’s arrival at Winterfell shows what they know.
You placed a hand on your brother’s wrist, stopping any further action on his part towards Lord Umber. Theon’s eyes immediately darted down to your hand, and then looked at you. To an outsider, the act would look no different than a scolding to a child; however, those who had watched the two grow together, like one Lady Catelyn Stark, recognized the interaction to be one of the many of silent conversations between the two of you. Her eyes darting down to her late husband’s ward’s wrist, eyeing the rather poorly made charm bracelet you had gifted him for his name day so many years ago. Being a ward to one of the seven great houses, Theon was gifted many precious things, from expertly made blades to fine cloaks; but that little…thing was the item he treasured more than life itself, that and his loyal falcon, Ari. A falcon abandoned by its mother, was found by Theon and was assisted in healing the poor creature by none other than you.
A moment passed, and another had gone by, followed by a few more before Theon reluctantly lowered his arm and sheathed his sword. You turned your gaze to Greatjon once more, hand still holding on your brother’s wrist, before speaking in a loud and clear manner, “I will graciously ignore you accusing that I would ever betray House Stark, even going so far to suggest that I would ever switch loyalties to a southern house I had never cared, but may I first ask you what is the purpose of the North’s campaign to the South?”
“Pah! Aye, I can tell you, to march down to King’s Landing and swing our steel at enough of their piss-haired inbred to free the North-,” Greatjon was interrupted by the slamming of your fist to the table.
“WRONG!” You exclaimed, “Our goal from the beginning, our true purpose was to free our Lord Eddard Stark and his daughters from King’s Landing, and upon his death, we swore to avenge him and rescue his children! Have you forgotten my lords, forgotten Ned Stark, late Lord of Winterfell, the man you swore fealty to when you bent the knee to his house? Now we stand, fighting in a war, leagues from our North, miles from King’s Landing, from his daughter who he loved and cherished so dearly that he confessed to crimes he did not commit in attempt to save her from the lion’s den? Does Ned Stark stand here, does his daughter Lady Sansa? In fighting for the North’s freedom, we had forgotten our first goal, our true purpose! To avenge the blood of House Stark, to fight and protect their children! And as a result, the Gods have punished us for forgetting that purpose to the state we see ourselves in now. We have lost our greatest bargaining chip, half our men in taking Lord Karstark’s head, and now with greater losses in numbers with the betrayal from both House Frey and House Bolton. We may have regained one wolf, but such a miracle cannot be claimed by us as it had been Ser Sandor who brought her home.” Your words brought the attention of Sandor Clegane, who was standing in a corner. He was observing the scene unraveling before, in both shock that you thanked him for his act, and cursing you for bringing any attention at him at all.
“And do not ignore that another young wolf still remains at the lions’ mercy. And if Sandor’s words of her treatment hold truth, then I fear that her livelihood is at more risk than ever when word reaches the Red Keep that Tywin Lannister’s plan had failed.” Your voice grew more somber and quieter as you finished your speech. It seemed as if time had stopped, shame overtook every lord’s and lady’s face at your words, and Lady Catelyn knelt on the ground, sobs overtaking her body. The relief and joy in being reunited with her Arya, was overshadowed by the realization that still had one daughter far from her arms. Greater grief struck her in learning that her sweet Sansa had been routinely beaten and ridiculed at court by Joffery’s orders.
Ever so carefully, you knelt beside her, and gently placed your hand on her shoulder before grasping her to stand while allowing her to take comfort in your strong but gentle grip. You quickly called for a squire to fetch some cool water before handing Lady Stark a simple but clean handkerchief to wipe her tears. Such an act of familiarity to a highborn from a lowly spy would never be tolerated in normal circumstances, but no one dared to point this out, fearing that their Lady would fall apart had it not been for your support. After what seemed to have been an eternity to pass, Lady Maege Mormont of Bear Island stepped forward.
“The girl is right.” Her voice left no room for argument, “In fighting for our freedom, we had forgotten our people, our past leader, and his own blood. We lost sight of our true goal, and in doing so we allowed ourselves to be vulnerable to our enemies. Right now, Stannis Baratheon is our best hope in retrieving Ned Stark’s daughter. And we need all of the hope we can get, be it in numbers or supplies.” The next words coming out the fierce Mother Bear of House Mormont shook everyone to their core, “I can sacrifice our independence, I can bend the knee to another Southerner, but I cannot call myself a northerner if I forget my oath in avenging the Quiet Wolf, along with Jory Cassel, and the rest of the northern men that died in that rotten keep.”
“But how can expect Stannis to hope true in his word, is he even aware such a deal took place?” Lord Rysell rose from his seat, his voice filled with trepidation. “After all, was it not Stannis who killed Renly, his own brother, his very own blood? How can we expect a Southerner, nay, a KINSLAYER to hold even a weight of honor after witnessing the mutiny we all had barely escaped with our lives? And what of the cost? What was traded for such information?”
“Stannis Baratheon along with Jon Arryn had been running King Robert’s kingdom throughout his entire reign. While Jon Arryn tried to reign in Robert, Stannis was the one who had actually proposed new laws in attempt to benefit the kingdom. This was a man who at age of 17, held his brother’s castle at Storm’s End and ate shoes and rats rather than surrendering to a hopelessly superior army from both land and sea. He, who ensured that his men, smallfolk, and his little brother were fed before him. And more importantly, Stannis has ships, ships that can lay siege to King’s Landing by targeting Blackwater Bay, should he want for an alliance.” Theon couldn’t keep the pride out of his eyes, here you stood, recounting the accomplishment of one man, stunning every lord by your extensive knowledge of military history in perfect clarity. Those hours spent in the Winterfell library and extensive lessons with Maester Luwin seemed to have paid off.
“As for the matter of honor, this war will not be won through honor, no this is war that will be done on the matter of duty.” Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you braced your body in continuing, “Ned Stark’s duty as Hand of the King was to the kingdom. In choosing his honor, he lost his head. Robb Stark chose love over duty, and it cost him the lives of his wife, his child, and nearly 3000 of our men. Our duty to the North was to avenge Ned Stark’s death and protect his children, and in that we have failed miserably. Whether Stannis Baratheon is honorable remains to be seen, but it was his devotion to his duty had made his men so loyal to him and his enemies call him a man ‘truly just.’ As for the matter of proof, I would hope that this message that bears his seal to provide some comfort.” You hand a creased letter to Catelyn Stark for confirmation. After vigilant investigation, she confirmed that it was indeed written in his hand and that seal bore House Baratheon’s sigil, along with the seal of Dragonstone.
“And I can assure you my lords that the price was more than fair,” your confidence was slowly diminishing as you chose your next words carefully, “all that was asked from the stranger was that I sail from Seagard to a locate an individual and escort them to somewhere Beyond the Wall, afterwards I would be told more details of my mission from there.”
“What comes after you get those details and finish escorting them?” Theon didn’t recognize his own voice. “Do they send you somewhere else, who’s this person, where are you going?” Seven hells, is that panic in his voice? “When do you come back?”
You looked towards your precious brother, eyes trying to convey a hidden message you don’t dare to speak aloud. You take a deep and shaky breath before clearing your throat in an attempt to keep your voice steady and clear, “I don’t.”
And just like that, chaos erupts once more.
Theon doesn’t realize he was asleep before being so rudely pulled out of his dream…memory?
“Well, memory it may have been, but a nightmare to relive it once more.” Theon thought as he tried to focus on his surroundings, before seeing the reason he was awoken in the first place. On his chest, stood a majestic falcon gazing into the eyes of his owner. Despite being a first-class hunter, one would think this bird of prey that feeds on both fish and birds alike by swooping at tremendous speed with little to no sound, was really a smaller parrot if others knew how spoiled Ari was for attention and treats. “Forget Robb, the real challenge will be in keeping this little fellow from going mad from losing his main benefactor,” thought Theon as he lovingly stroked a finger on Ari’s head, the falcon sweetly preening from attention from his beloved savior.
“THEON!” A familiar voice bellowed as the footsteps whom Theon was sure belonged to one auburn-curled king grew louder as they stride closer to his tent.
“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Knowing what will soon come, I only hope to find a barrel of ale to drown my sorrows in afterwards.” And with that being his final thought before rising from his cot and just finished dressing himself before his tent’s flap flew open, and in came the Young Wolf with a fury so terrible it would bring down the Wall.
Robb’s POV
After arriving at the camp, Robb immediately jumped down his horse and demanded a steward to take care of his steed before he marched forward with only one person in mind, Theon Greyjoy. His father’s ward, his best mate, his brother without blood and in-arms, and the brother to one particular Yi Tish girl that was sailing further and further from where she belonged. If there was one person who knew where she was going, it was Theon. He had to know, Li and Theon had a bond between them. A bond that Robb loathed to admit many times, as it was that bond that could not be easily shattered or poisoned as such with the bonds of mere companions or even lovers. For companions, some periods of time apart would often do the trick, but even on the most drawn-out operations his father sent you out on, time only proved to strengthen the bond as you would return with tales of the people you were sent out to watch, and even come back with small gifts as tokens of fond remembrance. Every single one of those gifts, no matter how often Theon would act as if he were given something burdensome, were treasured and placed inside a wooden box that he secretly commissioned one of keep’s craftsmen to create in order to store them. Even if you two were lovers, however painful that would be for him, it would be of great comfort to Robb knowing that it such affections would one day pass. No matter how great the flames of passion arose, they would usually die out, especially in one’s youth. In your case, hopefully in a way so spectacularly horrendous that it would kill any hope of rekindling those flames ever again. But no, instead you two stubbornly remained siblings, and your bond was that of great platonic love and adoration. It baffled Robb to no end as to why the two of you remained so insistently loyal to one another, but it was the same answer every time Robb brought out his frustrations.
“He is my brother,” you would say without fail. “He is the family I chose to love and cherish, and so I will choose him. I will choose him every time.” You would look directly at him, with your big brown almond-shaped eyes, so warm and frank, as if you were stating so completely plain and obvious to a tempering child.
“Can’t you choose me? I would choose you. I could be your family.” Robb exclaimed in great exasperation at your persistence. After all, why couldn’t he be your family? He who saw how well you played and calmed his younger siblings when he, his mother, his father, and even the septas were too busy; who would always help you whenever you stumbled upon a difficult word that you couldn’t spell or pronounce; who would show you the secrets of the Winterfell Keep that he would not even show to Jon or Theon; he who saw your secret smiles and hidden protection you bestowed upon the many strays and smallfolk children in the village town. By the Seven’s sake, he was to be the Lord of Winterfell and of the North after his father, who better than him to take care of you?
“No,” you stressed out, “No Robb, you couldn’t. You and I could never be each other’s family, not the way that he and I are, not in the way you want us to be.” You looked at him with your eyes, your big, brown, warm, cruel eyes; eyes that looked so genuinely apologetic that it almost made him forget his anger, almost. “I’m sorry.”
“Why not?” Robb was sure that he sounded pathetic, but he needed to know, to understand, why he couldn’t be the one for you. Was it the differing status between you both, did his mother speak ill to you when he and his father were unable to witness it, or was it because you had feelings of love for someone else, someone not him? Oh gods, he could feel his young heart breaking at that final thought.
“Theon and I…”, you tried to find the words that could capture the meanings you didn’t know the words to, words that were not in any of the languages you had learned and spoken, “he and I are bonded. In a way that goes beyond words, beyond simply moments and memories. It is built on an understanding that only the two of us know of, something you have never and I pray that you never will understand, because it is a pain that very few our age knows about, and that is really all I can say of the matter.” With that being the final word, you turned and walked away, leaving the young heir more lost and aggravated than ever.
“Oh Li, my sweet, darling Li.” Robb thought as he admonished your words with tender childing. “How could you be so blind to your so-called brother’s selfish and arrogant ways? Do you not see how he would ruin you, how he would twist your naïve and tender heart with his cunning words and leering eyes?” After all, brother or not, Robb was not as stupid as many would like to him to be. Yes, he would admit that marrying Talisa was in poor taste, especially in letting her believe that she meant far greater to him than her original purpose. A purpose to strictly bring physical comfort and to destress after hard-fought battles, as well as to help him forget that he was to marry one of Walder Frey’s daughters and to forget about you. While he had never meant in their affair to go so far, he will admit that he got carried away with her. He got lost in their conversations and banter, in her altruistic warmth and kindness, he allowed himself to give into the idea of championing love and how it would conquer any obstacle set before him. But most of all, he longed for the idea of sharing a love with someone new, someone who didn’t know him from his youth. He wanted to love someone who didn’t know of the many insecurities that plague his mind whenever he planned for his next battle. He pined at the idea of someone who didn’t see the vulnerable boy he hid away to project the undefeated wolf marching towards the lion’s den. He was desperate for the warmth and frankness that would be rewarded to him from a woman whose love was sweet and generous and easy.
Talisa had been all of that, and more, so much more. She was opposite to you in every way, physical and emotional. The only similarity that could be shared between the two of you would be that your hair was dark, but even in that there were too many differences. You had routinely cut your hair to your armpit, whereas Talisa’s hair flowed past her midback. And upon further inspection, one could see very things streaks of silver and grey as a result of stress, meanwhile there were no such signs in his late wife’s dark locks. Both of your faces were beautiful and similar in some features but your beauty differed in hers not only in the regions of birth, but in evidence of treatment. Both of your faces had a straight nose, downward turned lips, and almond-shaped eyes. But Talisa’s elegant and angular visage contained no markings or blemishes of any kind. There were no crow’s feet, or scars. Even after witnessing her most laborious treatments and amputations, did she contain an angelic maturity that would envy the wealthiest of highborn women. Everything about her… her willowy and pliant frame… unblemished reddish hue complexion…angelic lips…legs that stretched for miles and were connected by full hips…all of it in the form of one truly mythic beauty.
Whereas you…if Talisa’s beauty could be compared to an angel that glowed compassion and wisdom, yours was that of a survivor that radiated the hardships from years of regimented training for an enduring body and great mental fortitude. Your shoulders and rib cage were broad, but your stomach was slim with a taut core. Your arms were a bit trim, but years in learning how to properly shoot a bow and arrow, along with varying combat made them toned and fine. Your calves were strong and thick and they stretched your trouser legs, and while many insisted you looked more man than woman, you relished in their power in action. Your waist was sinched in a way that showed off the fullness in your hips, and perfectly gave way to your marvelous ass that he stared at more times than he likes to admit, especially with Theon’s overly protective gaze following him no matter the time or place. But he had remained respectful in his gaze if you don’t count the number of times, he spied you while swimming in the springs with the sheer small clothes as your only barrier, or when he watched you bathe in your quarters in the secret compartments or whenever he stroked his cock with an unwavering gaze as you rubbed your clit calling out his name.
While Talisa’s skin bared no markings, there seemed not to be a single patch of skin on your outer framework that didn’t contain a fading mark or scar. Even your proportional facial features: with downward lips that usually remained stoic, and straight framed nose that rarely crinkled even when it was red in the harshest of winters, and eyes that seemed unemotional until one paid close attention in order to see the carefully guarded mirth and gentleness that brightly shone in your peace; were littered with marking brought by you whenever you spied a pimple and removed it, letting it bleed and fester before it healed and scarred. This aggravated his mother and sister Sansa to great lengths, especially Sansa as she would insist that you were spoiling your own beauty and that no man would ever want to marry a woman with such awful scars on her face. You would turn to her stating that you would likely never marry in the first place, nor did you want to leave. Marriage would mean leaving Winterfell, the Stark family, and your new friends, including her who gave you your first gift. This shocked and flustered Sansa, as that “first gift” was a poorly embroidered handkerchief she just wanted to throw away, but instead gave it to you. Not long after, Sansa gifted you a much prettier embroidered handkerchief, one that had little blue flowers sewn across the borders. She insisted that you throw out the first, but you told her that she made both, so both were too important. So, you bought a small wooden box from your meager savings, and tucked both away neatly and lovingly. She still chided you something fierce whenever she caught you picking and scratching your own face. But sometimes Robb would pass by Sansa’s chambers, and double back in shock seeing the two of you conversing (well, more akin to Sansa gossiping and fantasizing about the South while you gave monosyllabic responses) on her bed while she practiced braiding your hair.
This brought up the most glaring difference between you and Talisa, although neither of you were born in Westeros, let alone in the North. But Talisa would never, could never be a Northerner, not in the way he and his family were Northerners as they were Starks, not in the way you grew to be a Northerner. She would never be able to adapt to the bitter cold and snow, could never love the harsh and biting winds, take comfort in the fresh air and scent of smoke wood burning in a hearth the way you had when you were brought to Winterfell by his father. There was no doubt that she would be respected, admired even, but the North and its people would never take to her in the way they took to you. You, who after weeks of careful interrogation and healing, took off running in the Godswoods, climbing its trees, breathing in its holy air, sitting before the weirwood tree with no fear as if you knew it your whole life. While it took a good while for you to gain the castle’s staff trust, it hadn’t taken much time for the village folk to look after you, despite being a foreigner who barely spoke the language. Granted there was the occasional drunk and youthful miscreant who still called after you in offensive terms, but they were quickly taken care of by Theon (who was the third in the keep to take you under his wing, after his father and Maester Luwin).
In return for their kindness, you became somewhat of a silent guardian. You made sure that no wild animals harmed anyone, even those who lived outside the village and in the deep forests; ensured that no child was lost after dark, often returning with bitemarks and long bleeding scratches; and fought off cruel men to the women working in the brothels and the barmaids in the Smoking Log. You even went so far as to “educate” the men who crossed your ire with you... somewhat disturbed skillset from the streets of Qarth. These particular teachings brought you much favor with the town’s women, none more so than Ros (who just so happened to your brother’s favorite whore). So much so that she liked to refer to herself as your “best friend,” a sentiment you returned wholeheartedly, as she was one of the few who heard you laugh, not just a giggle, but a full-bellied laugh, and seen you genuinely smile more times than anyone (besides your brother of course and him). And animals, gods. Don’t even mention to Robb about the animals, he could go on and on about how you seemed determined to take in every stray that wondered around aimlessly, hoping for some scraps of food or a place with walls to keep out the cold. In the first year you were brought, Robb could name over a dozen separate occasions you brought in a stray to care for before being found out. His father had hoped that by letting you keep your beloved shadowcat, you would stop this habit. This caused the very opposite of his hopes to happen, as you had no intention to stop taking in every stray that looked you with sad eyes. You only made sure to hide them in more…discreet locations, mostly in Jon’s and Theon’s rooms, as they shared a fondness for a singular cute creature with sad eyes (you).
But even that was not the limit of your protection. You even provided help to the wives whose husbands abuse them in cruelties beyond imagination, to where these men’s cruelties extend to their own children. These circumstances were tricky to say the least, as there was little to be done as the wife and children belonged to her husband and father, as he was usually the main provider of the family. Very few women dared not indicate any signs of abuse to anyone, much less towards his lord father. Robb was in his father’s solar at the time, learning about his future duties when in you barged in, holding a thick stack of evidence and documentation of not only the alleged offenses, but also proof in showing that these women willingly came to you to bring forth justice, knowing that their Lord Eddard Stark could only do so much. Not only that, but you also found evidence of reports of similar offenses being thrown out, meaning that you took the time and energy to fish out the documents from every trash heap in order to properly present your case.
This is where your true talents laid, in your relentless empathy and your perseverance for change. You may hide your heart in guarded walls made of heavily forged iron, but that didn’t take away the fact that you cared, you cared so deeply. You would use the skills you tirelessly trained for the purpose to protect those who cannot demand protection from those in power and cannot afford to bring attention upon themselves. In presenting the evidence, you asked whether this would be enough to request a change in policy regarding the protection of women and children in not only Winterfell, but across the North. Your body in steeled posture, expecting refusal and rejection, froze in shock in hearing that he would immediately establish a new policy regarding the treatment of familial relations, and punishment in violating that policy would result in amputation or beheading. Immediately, you raced across his desk and hugged him so tightly that Ned Stark was sure you had been possessed by a strange benevolent goblin. Noticing your precarious position, you straightened yourself out and apologized profusely before thanking him and swiftly exiting his solar. When brought up to House Stark’s vassal houses, many protested, though none more so than Lord Roose Bolton, as rumors of him leeching and torturing his wife and smallfolk were legendary in infamy. He questioned why such Lord Stark felt it necessary for such a policy to be implemented, but Robb’s father remained firm in keeping your anonymity, knowing you would be targeted for serious punishment if the lords knew of your identity.
“Being a Lord is like being a father, except you have thousands of children and you worry about all of them. The farmers plowing the fields are yours to protect. The charwomen scrubbing the floors, yours to protect. The soldiers you order into battle.” He paused before continuing, “But it seems, I have forgotten what it means to be a father to many others. I have evidence, of hundreds, if not thousands of reports stating the mistreatment by a family head’s hands. Reports that were never brought to me by men I thought I could trust. As Warden of the North, it is my duty to care for these women and their children, but I have failed in my duty. That is why I have created this law, and any violations of this law will be brought to my attention by the official guards of each house’s town. However, any knowledge of these violations going unpunished will be informed to someone else, someone personally placed and hidden that not even your best spies will find. They will be my eyes and ears; they will be my messengers. Should you bring your own twisted sense of justice upon them, I will know, and as you all know, I’ve never been one to use a headsman to do my beheading.” With that being the final word of the matter, Robb’s father dismissed his men, and called for the ravens to carry out the new law across his land. Robb would never forget those words for as long as he lived.
True to his father’s words, reports of these violations were kept in the known, and the Northern houses were expected to carry out the law’s sentences. Wicked men who violently struck their wives and children without proper justification had their hands chopped off. Those who starved their families were thrown into the dungeons without food or comfort for varying periods of time. And vile rapists had public castrations, and were also faced with beheadings. The lords ceaselessly hired the best spies and sellswords to find Ned Stark’s eyes and ears, but nothing came out of it. Soon enough, crimes of not only this offense, but other unrelated offences started to cease. Time continued forward, and the number of reports continuously dwindled until women felt it safe to walk at night without the need of a dagger, children felt it safe to play with outside after dark, and those with wickedness in their hearts learned what it meant to act properly without needing intervention of a higher power.
Smallfolk across the North sung praises to Ned Stark, for his kind and noble heart, for his true sense of justice, for being a man with true honor and knew the meaning of a lord’s duty of his people. But the women and children of Winterfell knew the truth, and it was you they silently revered. After all, only you listened to their cries, to their pain and anguish. You who searched for proof and evidence until the amount grew so great that you knew it could no longer be ignored. Things were not perfect, no far from it, but they were better. They were so much better, and they had you to thank for that. You were their paragon of justice and truth, someone who pushed for action in their lord’s idleness. One young man came up to you in privacy, and cried his thanks. He revealed to you that he and his brother were raped by their mother since their father’s death, but he could not tell anyone the truth, he could not bear the shame. But thanks to you, that wretched cunt was beheaded, and he could finally take his siblings far down south, where they would hopefully find better work and start a better life. You were silent until you carefully asked the young man if you could have his permission to hug him. When he granted it, you carefully and slowly placed your arms around him before both of you were sobbing and wishing good fortune to one another.
“No,” Robb thought as he almost reached Theon’s tent, “Talisa would never be accepted as his queen, not when you had taken the hearts of Winterfell’s inhabitants.” And as much as he felt guilty for her death and how he wouldn’t truly love her, he knew that this was for the best in the long run. Talisa was intelligent, and kind; but the coming winter would be ruthless, and her warmth would be swept out long before spring would arrive. He did mourn for his child, but he knew that with you by his side, there would be plenty of opportunities to create new heirs, and soon enough Winterfell will be run amok by little wolf pups and laughter once more. “Even if you do not understand it now, you cannot hide your feelings from your mate, little dragon.” As furious as Robb still was by you running from him, he knew that sooner or later that the two of you would find each other once more, and in finding each other, you would rule by his side as his queen and the North would only prosper in your reign together. A reign that would come a lot sooner than later, if he knew where in the seven hells you were off to.
“THEON!” Robb shouted before he stormed into Theon’s tent, he watched with furious eyes at his oldest friend and greatest enemy when it comes to you as Ari off his shoulder and perched on top of Grey Wind’s head. His chest was heaving, his nostrils flared in barely veiled anger, as he vented out the words, “Where is she?”
“With all due respect, your grace,” Theon quipped out as he began to pour himself some water, inhaling it in a few gulps before continuing, “you’ll have to be more specific. I don’t have the faintest idea of who this ‘she’ would be?”
“Oh, so that’s how he wants to play this out,” Robb thought out as he took a deep breath. He should have known better than to expect Theon Greyjoy of all people to give a straightforward answer. He quickly sent Grey Wind out to guard the tent, and not anyone in before curtly replying, “Don’t act dull. You know exactly whom I am referring to.”
Theon sat at his desk before pretended to ponder with his chin in one hand, and elbow in another, before continuing, “No, no, I’m afraid not, your grace. ‘She’ could really be anyone, would ‘she’ happen to be your mother? No, no, no…how about Arya, or perhaps Sansa? No, Arya just got here, and Sansa’s still not here, no thanks to you…Oh! Might ‘she’ be your late wife? The one who you fucked, then married and got killed- “Robb grabbed his throat before he could continue on, fury finally getting the better of him, and slammed the back of Theon’s head on top of the desk.
“Don’t you start with me Greyjoy,” Robb could barely contain himself, but he knew he had to, if only to get the information of where you were heading. He swallowed his pride before loosening his grip, and spoke his next words through clenched teeth, “Where is Long Li going? Don’t even think of lying to me!”
Theon’s eyes softened at the mention of your name, before whispering out, “Are you demanding an answer as my king?” His eyes and voice hardened to prepare saying the next words without spitting at the man above him, “Or as my brother?”
“Aye, I am your brother, now and always, but right now, I come to demand you answer me,” Robb’s voice grew stronger as he stated his next words, “as the man who intends to take her as my future wife and mother of my children and future heirs.” As he finished speaking, Theon felt anger surge throughout his body, and he gripped Robb’s doublet with both hands and flipped him onto his back.
“What makes you think I know?” Theon venomously spat out with a bit of condescension, “And for that matter, what makes you think that I would ever tell you? The boy who threw duty for love, that’s what everyone’s calling you. And for good reason too. Robb Stark, King in the North, the Young Wolf that never lost a battle, almost got 3000 men killed for love, and did get his wife gutted for it.” Theon let out a mocking laugh Robb, who struggled to get out of his grip, only to remain pinned on the desk. “If it weren’t for Li, we’d all be dead, bodies thrown into the river, rotting at the bottom. And because of you, she’s gone, gone with some mad man who could do anything to her.” Theon could feel his throat constricting, but didn’t bother to restrain his worst fears. He wanted Robb to bleed out more than when Roose Bolton shoved an arrow to his chest, “She could be gutted, maimed, or raped by now, and it’d be all your fault.” Theon released his grip and quickly turned away as he wiped the tears running down his cheeks at the thought of you getting hurt, and him not being there to protect you. Recalling your tearful goodbye, filled with gripping hugs and sweet words, and refusal to acknowledge the fear of never seeing each other again. The thought of you, the only person he truly, completely, and unconditionally loved, gone forever killed him. He tried to not completely fall apart as he remembered the final look you gave him before urging your horse into a gallop to put as much distance between you and the camp on your way to Seagard.
“I begged her to not go. I told her that no duty was worth her, that she’s done enough for others and that she should just stay here, where she could be safe.” He let out a bitter laugh before persisting while pacing around his tent, “But she wouldn’t hear of it, said that she had to go, and worst of all, I couldn’t go with her. She said that she needed me here, to make sure that you had your head an’ wits still with you after you wake up. She told me, ‘Robb’s lost too much already, and you’re his best friend. He just lost the woman he loves and their child, he’s going to need you to keep him grounded more than ever now.’” He poured more water, and swung it back before continuing, “‘Keep you grounded’, yea’ fat load of grounding I did before, eh? No matter what me, your mother, or Li told you…you still married your pretty healer queen, because you thought you were entitled to more happiness than the rest of us. Some king you are, you fuckin’ piece of shit.”
Theon finally stopped before sitting on his bed, elbows on his knees and head in his hands, sounding so tired and small that Robb wouldn’t have believe it was him if he weren’t right in front of him, “My sister is gone and might turn up dead and it’s all your fault, Robb Stark. And even if she’s alive, she can’t come back. You’re a shit king for making her doing this, for everything she did so that you’d and your family be safe.” Theon looked up, tears still streaming down his eyes, and stared directly at Robb as he scoffed out the next words, “She left feeling guilty, for so many things, all out of her control. First, for being too weak and injured to outfight the Tarth bitch; second, for not guarding those Lannister boys well enough, and the final part? The last’s the worst ten times over, because she thinks it’s her fault that Talisa and your child got murdered, that if she were just a little quicker and a little smarter and a little better, she’d get there earlier and both of them would make it out breathing. She almost went mad over it you know. I almost had to talk her out of throwing herself off the fucking Frey bridge, as if she hadn’t lost enough of her sanity already.” Both of them went silent after that, only until Robb walked over and sat by Theon and broke the tense silence.
“I didn’t love Talisa,” he rasped out, “I thought I did, I wanted to, but I couldn’t.” He looked at his feet, shame overtaking him as he only just realizes what Theon had lost as a result of his selfishness. “I cared for her, I loved our child, but I didn’t love her. I couldn’t, not when I already love Li, not how I will always love Li.”
“I know,” Theon responded, “I know.” Because while he was still angry, he knew Robb was genuinely sorry, even if he was an entitled prick.
“So,” Robb looked over to ask his old friend, “what happens now?”
Theon took in a deep breath, eyes closed in careful thought before answering, “We get out of this tent, execute some Bolton’s and Frey’s, meet with the bannermen, and make the preparations to Maidenpool to meet with Stannis to bend the knee or some shit.” He then turned his head to look at Robb with his trademark smirk and quipped out, “But before that last part, we’re going to find the biggest barrel of ale we got, and then drain the whole damned thing.”
Robb barks out a quick laugh, and tries to grip himself together in saying, “Perfect, what comes after the ale and before Maidenpool?”
“After the ale, we fight some more, drink some more, and then probably piss ourselves in our sleep.” Theon lists off before the two young men erupt in laughter, both tired of being mad at their best friend. “And before you ask, we’re meeting Stannis at Maidenpool because we got no bloody ships, and it’s going to be you, me, Arya, and Blackfish.” He saw the confused look in Robb’s eyes before going on, “The note asked for me specifically, probably to call me out for treason in being a Greyjoy or something. You’re coming because you’re the King in the North, Arya because two Starks are better than one in this case and your mother is in no state to continue on, my guess is that the bannermen probably want to send her back to Winterfell. And Blackfish is going because he’s a Tully of Riverrun, but he’s not your fuckup Uncle Edmure Tully of Riverrun.”
Robb chuckled out, “Aye, at least he’s not Edmure. And it’d be good for my mother to return to Winterfell, she likely wants to see Bran and Rickon more than she wants to see Sansa.” Satisfied with everything out in the open, the two men got up and called for their animal companions who guarded the tent from onlookers as they had their squabble.
“Come on now,” Theon slapped his king’s back as Ari flew to his right shoulder, “let’s spill some traitor blood and finish this meeting quick. Ale waits for no one.” And Robb laughed and smiled, remembering how good it felt to be laughing with Theon like he had in Winterfell. When everything was alright, his father alive and well, his sisters bickering but together, his mother with all her children, him with Jon and Theon in the training yard teaching Bran and Rickon how to shoot. No war to fight, no battles to be won, and most importantly, you were still by his side.
Please like, reblog, or comment your opinions if you want to, but please remain respectful. If I missed any warnings, let me know.
#robb stark#robb stark imagine#robb stark x reader#robb stark x fem!oc#robb stark x oc#robb stark x y/n#theon greyjoy#theon greyjoy x reader#platonic!theon greyjoy x reader#got imagine#asoiaf imagine#got x reader#asoiaf x reader#poc reader#poc oc#tw: depression#tw: long post#tw: survivor's guilt#tw: ptsd#read the warnings#yi ti
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Forbidden Fruit
Theon Greyjoy x Male Reader
Warnings: Smut, Theon in his asshole era, anal sex, loss of virginity, doggy style, use of the word ”whore”, use of the word ”maiden” for a virgin man because it’s a thing in the GoT/Asoiaf, Theon referring to your ass as a ”cunt”, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding, spit as lube, everyone kinda wants to fuck you too…
Summary: Theon has his eyes set on you and wants to be your first…
——
The sounds swords clanging against each other rang out over the courtyard of Winterfell as Theon Greyjoy and Robb Stark practised their swordfighting. Both of them in full focus on the task of beating the others.
Theon was just about to land a winning strike when someone behind Robb distracted him, stealing his focus. A beautiful young man, Y/n Poole, the son of the steward of Winterfell. Theon was distracted just long enough for Robb to be able to knock him to the ground.
”Come on Theon, keep your eyes on your opponent” Robb said annoyed and turned to see what Theon had been looking at, his eyes landing on you. ”Y/n, the steward’s son?” Robb questioned his friend. ”I’ve heard one of the chefs claim he took his virginity but he was drunk so i think he might have lied” Robb gossiped as he continued looking at you.
”I wouldn’t mind fucking him myself” he then said to the annoyance of Theon. ”Oh please, is the little lord Robb Stark gonna fuck the steward’s son?” Theon mocked him. ”He needs someone to take his boy cunt like the little whore he is” Theon said looking hungrily towards you as you were talking to a couple of castle guards.
”And that’s going to be you?” Robb questioned sarcastically. But Theon wasn’t listening he was already planning.
——
That night during dinner…
Theon watched you as you sat next to Jon, chatting cheerfully. Theon needed to catch you alone. Luckily for him he’d get his shot soon… You were also sat next to Sansa Stark which put you in the crossfire between her and her sister Arya’s never ending war.
Arya loaded her spoon with a piece of meat pie and launched it towards Sansa… but she missed hitting your chest, dirtying your light grey tunic. ”Arya! Look what you did?!” Sansa scolded her younger sister. ”I’m so sorry about her” Sansa apologised frantically as she tried to wipe of your shirt with a cloth napkin.
”Don’t worry about it Lady Sansa, i’ll just go change” you said calmly, standing up from the table and walking off. Theon saw this was his chance to finally meet you alone.
He soon managed to sneak away from the the dining hall. He stopped by the kitchens and snagged two goblets and a pitcher of wine, then he made his way through Winterfell castle towards the small part occupied by Steward of Winterfell and his family.
He knocked on the door he knew belonged to you. ”One moment” came your voice from the inside. Then the door opened revealing you in a nightshirt and underwear, you quickly wrapped yourself in a thin blue robe to cover up more for you’re unexpected visitor.
”Theon” you said happily at sight of him. ”Sorry, i’m not more properly dressed i was just about to go to bed” you said tying your robe. ”Oh no worries” he said with a flirty smile, you were gonna be even less dressed once he was done with you.
”How can i help you?” you asked. ”Oh, i just wondered if you’d like to have quick drink with me” he said holding up the pitcher and the two goblets he brought. You looked unsure. ”If your not too tired of course” he quickly added.
”Of course, a drink wouldn’t hurt” you said and held open the door for him, letting him in to your bed chamber. Theon observed the room, it was smaller than his own. It had a small square window with a nice view. A little fire place where a fire was burning, heating up the cold castle room.
A square table with a set of two chairs and a clothing chest right next to it. And finally the bed, which was draped in soft blankets. Above it hung a banner for your House, House Poole. The room was textbook definition of what Theon would describe as cozy.
You sat down in one of the chairs by the table, as Theon put the goblets on the table, pouring wine in each and then putting the pitcher down. He sat down in the other chair, you both grabbed your goblets. ”Cheers” Theon said and you clinked your goblets together and drank.
The two of you talked for a while. Theon decided to start testing the waters. He moved his leg slightly making it rest against yours, your eyes drifted to his leg for half a second before you looked back to him but you didn’t move away.
Time passed as you told Theon a story, once you finished it became quiet through the chamber. ”You’re really pretty you know” Theon stated boldly filling the silence in the room. Before you had time to respond Theon started talking ”Some of the staff has been talking about it, how they want to fuck you. Even the lordling Robb Stark said so”.
”And i understand them, you are very pretty” he continued. You looked rather unsure what to answer. ”Tell me Y/n, have you ever been fucked before?” Theon asked shamelessly, leaning closer to you. ”I… no, i have not” you told him, trying to stay casual.
”Would you like to be?” Theon then asked immodestly, leaving you slightly stunned. ”By-…By you?” you asked, Theon gave you a smirk as comformation. ”I-I wouldn’t know what to do” you said shyly. Theon played with the strings of your night shirt and said ”Don’t worry, i’ll show you”.
He then pulled you in to a kiss, his lips pushing hungrily against yours. Theon pulled you both up from your seats leading you to the middle of the room as you made out. Theon pulled of your robe, then his own jacket and he continued until you were both left naked in front of each other.
Your dick had gotten erected from Theon’s sudden interest in you and it made Theon’s own manhood swell with pride. He took your wrist in his hand and guided your hand over his slightly fuzzy chest down to his erect manhood. It was the first time you had ever touched another man in such a manner.
He made you enclose your fingers around his hardend cock and tug at it a little, rubbing him off slowly. ”Feel what you do to me Y/n” he uttered.
He led you backwards towards your beds and your naked bodies climbed up on it. Theon laid you down on the bed and the two of you passionately made out. Theon moved his hands to you ass and let his fingers graze against your hole.
You were unfamiliar with his action as you had never experienced it before but let Theon continue. He slowly started pushing his finger inside you, making you audibly gasp against his lips at the feeling of being streched out. ”That’s right relax” Theon instructed.
Once he added next finger he did it more hastily, making you yelp quietly. Theon let out a small chuckle ”Such a warm nice cunt for me to fuck” Theon said before shoving in a third finger.
Theon then stood up on his knees, he grabbed you and positioned you on all fours, ass spread out in front of him. He spit in to his own hand rubbing it on his manhood. ”I’m gonna take you like a real lord would” Theon said which you wasn’t sure if it was a statement or a warning.
Theon didn’t waste any time and started pushing his rockhard cock inside your virgin hole, making you groan, feeling yourself be filled. ”Fuck your tight around my cock” Theon said pleasureably sheathing himself fully inside you.
Before you had time to adjust he snapped his hips forwards thrusting into you making you release a small cry. ”Was this what he had meant? Was this how lords fucked their wives?” you thought to yourself.
Theon grabbed your hips and started setting a pace a his hips thrust against your ass. His raw cock forcing your walls to stretch, you released several whines as Theon roughly plowed in to you. ”Fuck Theon, you’re so big” you said through your pained but pleasured moans.
Theon grabbed your head as he pounded your ass saying ”What would your steward father say? Seeing his son deflowered by Eddard’s Stark ward like some common whore”. As he thrusted as hard in to you as his body would let him.
”Maybe i should go get him after this and make him come look at his son’s cum stained ” Theon said cockily. You however couldn’t answer him as you had your face pressed against the matress moaning endlessly from the ecstasy of Theon’s cock fucking you.
”Maybe i should start coming by every night and make good use of your cunt and fill you with my seed” he suggested, his thrusts rocking your bed back and forth. ”Shame you can’t have my bastards” he added.
From the endless groans to the creaking bed, you hoped no one could hear you getting your virginity fucked out of you by Theon. You felt your own cock twitching getting close to your orgasm. ”I’m gonna cum” you moaned. And soon after your load dripped down on the sheets below.
Theon kept plowing in to you for several minutes, claiming your ass as his. Sweat glazed his and your body as the room had gotten hot and damp. He grunted and uttered a satisfied ”I’m gonna fill you with my cum”.
With one last rough thrust Theon shoved his manhood deep inside you, his cock erupting staining your innocene with his warm seed. He then pulled out of you with a smirk, seeing his cum leak out of puckered hole and running down your legs. You collapsed on to the matress below in exhaustion.
Theon was just about to get ready to leave but he couldn’t leave you like this. He covered your nakedness under the covers and blankets. He then started getting dressed and before he left planted a kiss on your forehead saying ”You were so good to me, Y/n, better than any common whore, you were divine”. He then gave you a last kiss before he left your bed chambers with a smirk and a feeling of satisfaction, and maybe even a little bit of love.
#theon greyjoy x male reader#theon greyjoy x male!reader#a song of ice and fire x male reader#game of thrones x male reader#game of thrones x male!reader#asoiaf x male reader#x male reader#male reader#x male!reader#theon greyjoy x male reader smut#game of thrones x male reader smut#male reader smut#x male reader smut
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Best Friend
Pairing: Robb Stark x F!Reader
Summary: after a decade of friendship Robb is finally able to recognise his love but only after his best friend starts looking for a husband that isn't him.
TW: swears and Theon being Theon.
Fluff and angst all in one.
Word count: 2838
Masterlist Here
Robb Stark was so not in love with his best friend who he spent all his time with, who he taught how to ride and swing a sword just encase, who he ate lunch with every day in the gods wood, who he gazed at from his seat at the table, who he threatens every potential betrothal of, who he would constantly bring up in conversations nothing to do with them. No obviously not. Jon was crazy for suggesting the future lord of Winterfell would be in love by his best friend of near a decade.
“Of course I don’t fancy her you idiot,” Robb said as he and Jon sparred, “She’s my best mate you twat,”
Jon laughed as he half-heartedly deflected his brothers blows, “Of course not brother. Why else would you stare at her?”
“I do not stare,”
“You stare more at her than Theon does at arses,”
“It’s true,” Theon piped up from his spot a couple feet away. Robb sparred and learned from Jon and then Theon from Robb. Theon was stood close to the boys waiting for his turn against Robb. It was a routine they had down from their year of training together. “You’re in love with her mate,”
“Am not,”
“Am too,”
“Am not,”
“So can I try wooing her then?” Theon asked.
Robb spun around and pointed his sword just in front of his throat, “Don’t even think about it Greyjoy,” Robb swung his sword back and continued sparring with Jon, this time with more force in his swing. Jon faltered slightly as he quickened his pace to keep up, “We all know what you mean by wooing and if you dare try fuck her-“
“Hey guys,” Robbs eyes went wide and he quickly lowered his sword and shut his mouth, “Whatcha talking about?”
Jon and Theon snickered as Robb tried to ignore his face growing hot. “Nothing much. Just these too idiots,” Robb said and (Y/N)’s smile did not help his blush. “You know what Theon’s like,”
“What poor girl are you tormenting this week?” (Y/N) asked Theon with a grin.
Theon gave Robb and even bigger grin before walking up to (Y/N), “Could be you if you wanted darling,”
The girl rolled her eyes with a smile but a slight grimace at the same time, “You wish Greyjoy,”
“Who doesn’t?” Theon flung his arm over her shoulder which was met by a glare from Robb.
“In your dreams idiot,” she shrugged herself free from his lose grip before turning back to Robb, “You still on for today?”
“Yeah I’ll meet you in the woods when I’m done here,”
“Okay Robbie see you then,” she said as she walked past him, touching his shoulder as she passed, “Bye Jon, see you never Theon,”
“Bye (Y/N),” Jon called after her as she entered the castle, presumably going to the kitchen to sort for her and Robbs lunch. “Not in love still?”
“Shut up and duel me idiot,” Robb snapped.
(Y/N) was already sat by the weirtree in their usual spot in the woods when Robb arrived. “I wish you would wait for me to walk you here,” He said when he approached. Robb was always worried especially over his best friend. You never know who will be in the woods. What would he do if she got hurt? He dared to imagine.
“Nothing bad has happened to me yet,” she said, patting the spot beside her which he quickly filled, “besides you take ages,”
“Do not,”
“Do too. But I forgive you,” (Y/N) smiled and Robb hummed in fake annoyance. “I brought lunch,” she pulled the basket she had brought over, “They even prepared it ahead of time today,”
“They’re probably so used to this by now,” Robb said as he took the basket from her, “Ooo raspberry tarts,” He grinned and passed one to (Y/N).
“Aren’t those for after the sandwiches?” she asked but was already taking a bite out of it.
Robb smiled and watched as she ate it, “But they’re your favourite so why wait?” he said, leaving his own tart in the basket.
The two shared lunch and talked about the random things they had heard through the day. Along with a healthy amount of gossip of course.
“So, who was Theon talking about before I came along?” she asked as she handed Robb her apple.
Robb took the apple and his dagger from his belt and began to peel it for her like he had done every day for the past almost year since they started this tradition, “Oh it was nothing,”
“It sounded like something,” she said, “C’mon you always tell me his latest whorey history,”
“It wasn’t about a whore,” Robb felt his neck grow red and begged it wouldn’t go to his face, “he was talking about you,”
(Y/N) made a face, “Like in general or how he talks about his whores?”
“Id slit his throat if he talked about you like that,” Robb said with no laugh in his voice. He passed the now peeled apple back to her, “Nah he was just being a dick and that and talking about you to try wind me up,”
“Why would talking about me wind you up? We’re best friends,”
Even the way she bit into her apple was cute. Why had it took his friends pointing it out for Robb to realise how over the moons he was with her? And why did he feel the need to spit it out in a stream of word vomit that would surely end the friendship they’d grown? It took everything in him to shrug his shoulders and change the conversation.
The whole subject and talks with his brother had sent his head spinning that the only thing that snapped him out of it was (Y/N) saying, “My fathers looking for a suitor for me. I hate it,”
“He’s what? Why?”
“Because apparently im going to die an old maid if I don’t wow some fancy dancy lords son or ancient lord soon,” she sighed as she dug through the basket for another treat, “He’s talking about sending me all over the north or ever down to the reach to go to random balls and tourneys to try meet more people,”
“You cant leave,” Robb felt like all the air had been sucked from his lungs, “You’re my best friend I wont have you shipped across the country to some random old fucker who-“
“I don’t want to go either,” She cut him off, “I don’t think he’s going to send me out the north yet but he wants me to go to some ball the Karstarks are throwing for one of their sons. He’s even ordered me a new dress,”
“You don’t need a new dress. You need to stay in Winterfell,” Robb grabbed her hand before even thinking. The idea the possibility of her leaving. He didn’t want to let her go. Not yet. Or ever.
“I’m trying Robb. I promise I am. But he needs a reason to keep me here. We’re not kidding anymore,” her smile was sad and she squeezed his hand in return.
They fell silent for a few minutes. Robb knew she was right. Hell, he knew her father was right. But he didn’t want her to marry a random lord. He didn’t want her to leave.
He barely spoke the rest of the day. During his family dinner he sat and poked at his meat as his sisters bickered and his brothers argued. His mother tried to defuse the situation while his father tried to stop his wives glares at Jon. His father had insisted he at least joined their private dinners.
None of it really mattered to Robb who just pushed the potatoes from side to side. With a sigh Catelyn turned from her daughters to her eldest, “And what’s bothering you darling? Has Jon broken your comb as well?” Sansa scowled and Arya sniggered to which they both received a sharp look, “You’ve barely ate,”
“Not hungry,”
“You need to eat,”
Robb didn’t reply and instead turned to his father, “Are we going to the Karstarks ball thing?”
Neds’ eyes widened but he quickly relaxed, “I wasn’t planning on it. How come? You’ve never been into balls son,”
“Was just wondering,” he continued picking at his food as his father attempted to lighten the mood.
“Who told you about it? Did lord Karstark ask you? Cause I’ve been avoiding him recently,” Ned chuckled, “I’m still looking for an excuse to stay here,”
“(Y/N) told me,”
“She is going then?” Ned asked. Robb nodded, “Is that why you’re upset?”
“Never said I was upset,” Robb let go of his fork, letting it clatter onto the table, “Just not hungry and was wondering about the Karstarks. Sorry for being informed,”
“Don’t talk to your father like that,” Catelyn snapped. The table grew quiet and his siblings shared concerned looks. Never not once had they heard Robb be snarky towards either of their parents. “Whatever has gotten into you-into all of you, cut it out. Im sick of it. finish your dinners everyone. Robb if you’re not hungry you can leave,”
Robbs chair screeched across the floor as he left the room without a word. Ned laid his cutlery down and stared at his plate before standing from the table and following Robb. The room was silent as he left.
“Wait right there,” Ned called after Robb who was about to go around the corner to his chambers. Robb huffed and stared out a window as he waited for his father to approach, “What’s wrong?”
“Sorry for being snarky,” Robb mumbled.
Ned sighed and grabbed his son’s shoulder and spun him to face him. He held Robbs shoulders and forced the boy to face him, “What happened son?”
“Lord Karstarks and his stupid sons are having a stupid ball with stupid lords who stupid (Y/N) is going to do stupid dances with because her morainic father has stupid ideas,” Robb felt his eyes water but he couldn’t care anymore,
“Well I’m glad you know more words than stupid,” Ned sighed and dropped his hands from his shoulders, “but you shouldn’t be calling the girl stupid for looking for a husband,”
“But- “
“But nothing,” he interrupted him “you obviously love the girl so don’t be calling her names,”
Robb sighed and wiped away the tears that had spilled, “I don’t know why I’m being like this. Im sorry I should- “
“Should. Look son,” Ned sighed and began to walk Robb to his chambers, “Life is hard. Really hard. Marriage is even harder. Then eventually there’s children. Trust me you lot are the hardest,” he laid a hand on Robbs shoulder, “but its much easier when you love the person sharing it with you. If you love this girl, if you truly do, neither me nor your mother would dare try stop you from marrying,”
“But what if she doesn’t want me? What if she wants some fancy lord with silk robes and shiny hair?”
Ned looked his son up and down, “First of all remember who you are. You’re a stark. Women love us,” Robb cringed at his father’s joke, “Don’t think I don’t know about the lotions you get from Maester Luwin for your hair,” this time Robb managed to laugh, “but more importantly its you she spends all her time with. And even if she didn’t want to marry you,” Robbs smile quickly faded as he faced the reality that she may reject him, “eventually you will have to marry. And you will spend the rest of your life regretting not at least finding out,”
Ned stayed longer and comforted his son and told him stories of his early days in marriage. The ways in which he wooed over his already wife and how she looked on their wedding day. Robb had never been more certain. His father had briefly mentioned that even politically she was a good match considering her father but neither Stark cared overly about that.
Jon had stopped by after a while to check on him and Robb confessed everything. The tears and the build up all spilled out. Jon patted his brother’s shoulder, “Of course she’ll marry you. She’d be an idiot not to. Who wants a Karstarks over a Stark?”
Then eventually Robb was left alone. He tried to sleep but it wouldn’t come. He watched the moon from his window and wondered what he would say. How would he even bring it up? Would he propose straight away? Just kiss her. Confess his love first then kiss her? What would she say? What would her father say?
Before he realised what he was doing he was stood at the door of her chambers. he paced back and forth wondering whether or not to knock. It was late. The moon was high. She was probably asleep. He held his hand up to the door and sighed. He waited a minute and then he heard footsteps. If his mother heard he was out here at this time she’d kill him. So, he knocked. Rather quickly. He kept knocking until the door finally opened.
(Y/N) didn’t have time to question the boy before he rushed in her room and she peered down the corridor in confusion. Upon seeing no man with a sword running to kill Robb she finally shut it, “What’s your deal?” she yawned.
“I need to talk to you,” Robb turned to face the girl before quickly averting his gaze. But he had already saw her in her night gown which did little to cover the shape of the girl he had been secretly pining over. It was rare for him to see any women undressed let alone (Y/N) in such a natural state.
She looked down, noticing what Robb had and a pink tinge coated her cheeks. (Y/N) quickly grabbed a lounge robe from her chair and pulled it around her. “What are you doing here Robb?” she asked as she approached him.
“I-,” he stopped himself and looked out the window as he tried to think of the perfect sentence but none would come to him. She stepped closer and Robb turned back and grabbed her arms gently, “I was thinking. You shouldn’t go to the ball. You should stay here,” Robb led her to sit on her bed and she took his hands into hers.
“I want to stay Robb,” she said “but my father- “
“Wants you married I know. But why can’t you marry someone here? You could stay in Winterfell, start a family,” he was almost begging at this point, “Why do you need to start your search so far away?”
“It’s barely a two-hour ride. I’ll be safe trust me. I’ll be with my father and my family and-“
“Not with me,” Robb gripped her hands tighter. It was now or never. Ignoring his body screaming at him to stop he continued, “I want you to stay here. With me. In Winterfell. For so many more years to come,” Robb moved the stray hairs from her face. He had never seen it flow like this. It was messy from her sleep and not tied back or braided like it usually was. He wished to see (Y/N) like this a thousand more times.
“Of course, I want to stay,” her voice was equally desperate as his, “but I’m not going to be gone forever. Its one ball Robb and I’ll be back here. I promise,”
“For how long though? A week? A month? Another ball will come up or a tourney. You said yourself your father was thinking about the reach- “
“I don’t know for sure- “
“I want you to stay,” he cut her off and she sighed in return. Robb edged closer to her on the bed, “Wouldn’t you like to stay?”
“I would want nothing more,” her voice was almost a whisper now, “I’d happily stay here forever with you just so we could have our lunches but my fathers right. I need to find a husband,”
“Maybe you’ve already found one,” his voice was equally low now and with every second they seemed to be closer, “Why do you need to go so far to find someone you already have?”
“But Robbie your family- “
“Have already approved the match,” Robb began to rub circles on her hand with his thumb, “And im sure your father would do the same. But only if you want to. I wont force you to stay but if you want to it would be my honour to marry you,”
A smile fell upon her lips. It was soft and gentle and sweet and caring and everything Robb felt about her. her eyes glistened but not from sadness. This time she was the one to shuffle closer, “Then the gods have finally listened to my prayers. There’s no one I’d rather spend my life besides,”
A/N: this all started because I was eating an apple and didnt want to do my uni work. However I am tempted to possibly maybe try writing some kind of smut sequel maybe possibly (cause I have never wrote straight up smut so I trying to tackle that will be interesting lol)
#robb stark#robb stark imagine#robb stark fluff#robb stark angst#game of thrones fluff#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones imagine#game of thrones#got#got imagine#robb got#robb stark x reader
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Another Life
Pairing(s): implied/referenced Rhaegar Targaryen x Stark!Reader, Ned Stark x Catelyn Tully, Robert Baratheon x Cersei Lannister
Warnings: canonical character death, illegitimacy, cat actually loves jon in this story, drabble, short, robert and cersei actually like eachother
Words: 1269
Lyanna watches Jon from atop of the courtyard's parapet, her eyes crinkling with pride as she watches Jon best Theon Greyjoy at the dance of swords. Every victory Jon made resulted in him outgrowing the label of bastard. He was so much more than a bastard of Winterfell. Not even Catelyn saw him as such. Many were so shocked when the news came that Ned had brought back his bastard one day. In fact Cat had shown up at Winterfell by his side as he held the infant in his arms, for she was one of three that knew the truth about Jon Snow.
Heartache nibbles at her heart when she recalls fifteen years prior. She remembers her sister (y/n). The fever of her cheeks as she held her newborn son in her arms. But she wasn't faring well. Birth rendered her near lifeless, allowing her to slip slowly away into the Stranger's arms. It was only a matter of time. She refused to leave the Tower of Joy, understood her fate as well as her siblings and sister-in-law did. (y/n) had just been content with the fact that she'd birthed a healthy baby boy.
"Jon." Her watery eyes turn up to Lyanna. "His name is Jon."
After Rhaegar's closest friend. Jon Connington was the one to deliver the note to Winterfell, ensuring it fell into the safe hands of the young Warden of the North himself. He'd been instructed by his revered lady, Princess (y/n) Targaryen.
The name was a slap to the face. A year prior to the birth of her son, (y/n) had supposedly been kidnapped by Rhaegar Targaryen who was supposed to marry Elia Martell the following day. Both up and vanished without a trace. Lord Rickard Stark was beside himself with grief and agony that they stormed to the capital to demand answers from King Aerys himself. Lord Rickard and his heir Brandon accused the king of hiding the location of Rhaegar and (y/n), said that she was to be returned immediately and the prince punished. But Aerys didn't take kindly to the slander they were slewing against the crown. He had them executed.
Ensuing blood shed consumed the Seven Kingdoms. Rhaegar appeared only on the battlefield with his own men. They fought against not just the king, but Ned and his own allies which included Storm's End. No sign of (y/n) nearby.
After Robert Baratheon killed Rhaegar and the regicide of the Mad King by the young lion Jaime Lannister, there was still no clue as to where (y/n) could be.
Robert, though it was Jaime who slew the king, secured the Iron Throne for himself. That meant Lyanna would be queen as she was engaged to Robert. She refused.
When Ned implored her to marry Robert, she gave him the tongue lashing of the century but it did the job in shutting him up. He couldn't force Lyanna to do something she didn't want to. That lesson was learned in childhood. If she desired to stay in the North then she would stay. Slighted at first, it didn't take him long to choose another bride. Cersei Lannister. A beautiful couple. Lyanna was happy that Robert even seemed to be truly smitten with the golden haired girl. They couldn't keep their hands off of each other.
Or so she was told. She couldn't attend their lavish wedding, not when her sister was still out there somewhere.
Day and night she worked in searching for (y/n). Northmen scattered across the vast land took part in looking for her.
They'd nearly given up.
And then Jon Connington delivered a letter in (y/n)'s handwriting.
She and Rhaegar had eloped. Rhaegar couldn't marry Elia Martell, he didn't love her but there was absolutely no way that Aerys would let him marry (y/n) Stark. Even (y/n) had kept her love for him a secret from everyone in her family.
Getting married as soon as they could. They had a short honeymoon for the war started shortly after. Jon Connington was entrusted with (y/n)'s safety, and though he wanted to be with Rhaegar on the battlefield, he held (y/n) in high regard. He agreed without much hesitation.
Soon she discovered she was pregnant. The pregnancy wasn't going well for her. She was constantly sick and weak. She didn't have long.
In her note, (y/n) specifically wanted Lyanna, Ned and his new bride to come. Only them. They were not to tell anyone else. Cat was loathe to leave her own baby Robb but knew how important this was for Ned and his family so of course she agreed to go. Leaving Robb pained her.
Jon was but a week old by the time they arrived to the Tower of Joy. The Sword of the Morning himself stood guard at the tower's entrance.
The babe was healthy. The same couldn't be said of his mother.
She was gaunt, so gray. This wasn't the sister Ned and Lyanna grew up with. Her smile was still the same though, even if it was a little strained. To each of them she spoke to, having the other two wait.
All of them, including Jon Connington and Arthur Dayne were to take this secret to their graves.
(y/n) died two days later.
"I know that look."
Lyanna jolts at Ned's voice, ripped from her melancholic memories. She presses her lips together. Ned grew into a fine lord. A horde of children filled the halls of the castle. Among them was the boy they thought their bastard brother. "Sometimes I can't help but think about her when I see him. He has her big, sweet eyes."
Ned nods. "He does." He rests his forearms on the wooden rail and looks down into the courtyard where Jon swung his sword in the way that Arthur Dayne had shown him that morning. Off to the distance was Jon Connington watching with a close eye. Theon and Robb are trying it out as well.
Jon was thriving. No one caught on to the truth of him. Never even breaching the surface. Many asked who the mother was since Ned agreed to claim fathership over him.
Bittersweet for the siblings watching their nephew grow up without his real mother and father. It was better this way. (y/n) wanted her son to grow up in the north opposed to the death and discrimination he might receive from being raised in the capital. Not just that, but Robert Baratheon was now entirely against the entire Targaryen line. He was already trying to locate the missing Prince Viserys and Princess Daenerys with plans to execute them if they're ever found. Children. It was insane that his queen was supporting the king's search for them. His claim to the throne was in danger as long as there was even one Targaryen left alive. And unfortunately Jon was included.
That day his sister died, Ned swore to her that he would protect Jon with his life; even if that meant protecting him against his own friend he thought of as a brother. Lyanna, Ned and Cat had spent sleepless nights speaking about the possibility of Robert finding out about Jon. Their voices hushed, only the quiet flame in the fireplace bore witness to the secrets being discussed.
They would never allow the secret of Jon's parents to become public knowledge. (y/n) entrusted Jon's life to them and they would not disappoint her. They would defend the boy with their life and take his secret to the afterlife.
#reader insert#reader insert fanfiction#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones fanfic#asoiaf fanfiction#game of thrones#asoiaf fanfic#asoiaf fandom#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones reader insert#a song of ice and fire x you#a song of ice and fire x reader#a song of ice and fire fanfic#a song of ice and fire fanfiction#got fandom#got fanfic#got fanfiction
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freedom las vegas!!! eventual bolton?(;D)!reader x theon greyjoy
your bastard brother ramsey bolton was torturing some guy again. you sighed as you heard the screaming, wishing he’d just shut up so you could focus on dissecting the dead baby fox in front of you. you licked its blood off your finger as your bedroom door pounded.
“what?” you called out, pissed that ramsey got to be the heir and u didn’t.
“mr bolton wants u to cum to his torture room. NOW!!!!1!!” you recognised miranda’s stupid preppy voice. she tried to be dark and evil like u and ur brother but she was too much of a whore.
“fuck off slut!” you heard her huff and stomp away. regardless, you obeyed your brother - he was a man after all - and hopped to his room.
“ah y/n!” he grinned when you leapt through the door frame, feeding your momentum into an army roll into him.
“what do u want?” you roared, flirtily.
“this fucking man is theon greyjob.” he pointed to the very thing and panting man tied up, spread-eagle on the cross of jesus christ our lord amen.
“sso?” you retorted.
“i am torturing him.” he whispered back.
“and?’
“i am fucking torturing him!!!!!!!!1!!!!!” he had had a stomach ache so was being a cranky pants >:( ((((((a/n poor ramsee >o< love u bby ramsey boltun: love u 2 author-chan me: >:00))))).
“fine. i will suck his toes” you sighed. ramsey grinned as you go to your knees.
(((((((((((a/n incest is sexxy if you are incestrophobic then gtfo!!!! >>>:[))))))))
but when you looked up, theon’s dirty big toe sat on your tongue, your eyes met his light blue orbs. they were....... beautiful.
the toe dropped put of your mouth with a slimy pop, “theon handjob. i am in love with you!!”
his crystal cerulean sight balls filled with tears, “babygirl I love you 2!!!1!”
you stood up and with your bare hands you snapped ramseys neck.
“now we r free my love.” you roared. and grabbed his hand.
theon laughed, “seize the means of production.”
you laughed too.
it was time to be yourself: y/n targaryen, the lost princess of old valyria and heir to throne of gondor.
#bad got imagines#bad game of thrones imagines#game of thrones x reader#got imagines#game of thrones imagines#got#game of thrones#theon greyjoy#theon greyjoy x reader
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Who's the best character in Game of Thrones and why is it Theon and Robb?
#game of thrones throbb#throbb#theon greyjoy x robb stark#robb stark x theon greyjoy#theon greyjoy x reader#theon greyjoy#theon greyjoy x male reader#theon x robb#theon#robb stark#robb stark x reader#robb stark x y/n#robb stark x you#starklings#gay#gays in love#gays on the fyp
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Tell me a tale
Pairing: Jacelyn Bywater x Fem. Reader (House Greyjoy / Third person POV)
Themes: Angst | Soft
Warnings: Mentions of nightmares | Death | Blood | Fire | Pain | Loss of limbs
Wordcount: 1.8k words
Summary: Jacelyn Bywater wakes up from his injuries and finds himself with someone else in his chamber.
Rules and tag form here.
Based on the results of this poll | Inspo for Lonely Light
Jacelyn lay abed, dreaming.
Red-haired and red-garbed Thoros charged through a gaping hole with that flaming sword of his, then a lordling from Bear Island. And him.
He was the third through the breach and the first to kill. Some petty lordling, one whose name he would never remember. The air was thick with the smog of smoke from so many fires, and foul with the stench of burning wood and blood and death. Towers were ablaze, the flames that engulfed them rising higher and higher. Screams of the dead and dying rattled around the stone walls, mingling with the bitter song of steel clashing against steel. Pain of the acutest kind coursed through his arm. He screamed.
A strange but sweet sound chased him to waking. Jacelyn's eyes flew wide open. He looked around his chamber, at the weak fire sputtering in the hearth. He felt the salt and damp lingering in the air, the dressing covering the stump that was all that remained of his right hand. He sighed.
And heard her. She scurried about, spreading fresh rushes over the stone floor. The sweet sound he heard was her singing a haunting air, one that was full of promise and magic.
"You..." he croaked feebly, trying to sit up. It was such a simple act, one he took for granted. Jacelyn found he could not do it, not with a missing hand and a body feeling like it had been set ablaze from head to toe. "Help me. Please."
She came to his bed, shyly, hesitantly. Soft hands slipped under Jacelyn's arms. He bit his tongue when unbearable pain threatened to cripple him. He cried out when he could no longer bear it. It shamed him.
"My pardons, my lord." She fussed over him, fluffing his pillows, arranging his coverlet, and making him more comfortable. "I did not mean to hurt you."
Jacelyn took one deep breath after another. The pain slowly ebbed and turned into a dull but bearable throb.
"It is not your fault," he conceded and opened his eyes, studying her with barely disguised curiosity. She did not look like a servant. She certainly did not dress or carry herself like one. And the way she spoke, her words clear and direct, like she was high-born. Jacelyn was puzzled. Balon had no daughters, none that he knew of anyway. "Pray why are you here?"
“This room needed fresh rushes,” she murmured. “And the servants were busy elsewhere.”
“My thanks,” Jacelyn said. “May I ask who you are?”
"Y/n Greyjoy," She introduced herself and padded to the fireplace. She knelt by an old wicker basket and picked fresh blocks of peat for the fire. "If it please you."
"Greyjoy?" Jacelyn's eyes went wide with surprise. “You are Balon’s daughter?”
"Yes. Yara and myself." Y/n dusted her skirts and rose, satisfied that the fire was burning brighter now. "She is here too, on this floor. Lord Stark insisted. For our safety."
"And your brothers?"
"The Drowned God called Rodrik and Maron into his embrace. Theon is all that remains now." Y/n glanced at Jacelyn, her hands clasped behind her back.
He was tall, so very tall. It was just happenstance that they had a featherbed long and wide enough for him. And he was so heavy, like an ox. Y/n felt it when she helped him sit up. Her eyes drifted over a thick tangle of black wavy hair that fell to his shoulders and deep-set brown eyes. A handsome man, one that was brave and honorable, so the other soldiers said.
"You do not grieve for them, my lady?" Jacelyn observed. Y/n eyes were clear, even in the light of the fire. If she wept for her slain brothers, no sign showed upon her countenance.
"I wept for them." Y/n shook her head and returned to his side. She sat by his feet and leaned against the post. "If that is what you mean. But what good would more tears do? Rodrik and Maron made their choice. He who dwells beneath the waves decided the rest."
A harsh place breeds harsh people, a maester once said. Jacelyn could not blame the Iron Born for it. The islands were unyielding and needed fierce people to rule them.
"You think I am cold and unfeeling," y/n smiled sadly. She had seen something flash in his eyes. Whether it was judgment or something else, she could not tell.
"I do not," Jacelyn protested weakly. His head swam when pain sliced up his right arm like a thousand blades, forcing him to lay back. "The... pain..." he breathed, his voice hoarse and ragged. "Something... anything..."
Y/n had already risen to her feet. She made her way to a small chest of drawers, opening and closing them until she found what she was looking for. When she returned, she held a small glass bottle filled with milky fluid in one hand and a tiny spoon in the other.
"Open your mouth," she ordered, and sat beside him.
Jacelyn did as he was bid while she poured out a measure of milk of the poppy for him. What washed down his throat was bitter and grainy, but the relief that followed was palpable.
"Thank you," he mumbled gratefully.
"Shall I call for a Maester?" Y/n inquired. What knowledge she had in the healing arts was limited to tending to her brothers' bruises and the rare spoonful of milk of the poppy. And Jacelyn had paled. It alarmed her. "Let me fetch one. Truly, you look like you need one."
"No," Jacelyn mumbled weakly. He had grown weary of being fussed over and prodded at by Maesters. "No Maesters. Please."
Y/n nodded and left to put the bottle and spoon away. When she came back, she found Jacelyn looking at her intensely.
"Where am I?" he inquired after a while.
Y/n smoothed her skirts and sat by him. "The Bloody Keep, my lord..."
"No my lords," Jacelyn interrupted her, not unkindly. "I am no lord, my lady. I am not even a Ser. Just call me Jacelyn. And please... go on. Why is this place called the Bloody Tower?"
"It is the guest tower," y/n flushed when he smiled, a weak but gentle smile that lit up eyes that were warm and open. "We call it the Bloody Tower because once, over a thousand years ago, the sons of a River King were slaughtered in a room above this one. If you listen carefully of a night, you might even hear their wails."
The knowledge gave Jacelyn the shivers. Y/n merely laughed. It was a sweet sound, as enchanting as her singing. Jacelyn found it more soothing than any tonic.
"There is nothing to worry about, my lo..." she quickly corrected herself when he arched a brow. "Jacelyn. Their wails, such as they are, are almost always drowned out by the roar of the waves. And their shades harm no one. You are perfectly safe, I assure you."
"Hmm," Jacelyn hummed. He did not wish to hear bloody crib tales. He already had his fill of blood and violence. "Perchance you have any other tales, my lady? Something with a sweeter ending?"
A story. Jacelyn wanted a story, something with a happy ending. Y/n was a lady of the Iron Islands. Tales with happy endings were few and far between here. Still, it was what he wanted to hear. She thought and thought, and then a story her mother used to tell her came to mind.
"There is a tale about Lonely Light," she started her tale. "The land is barren. No living person has set foot upon its shores and lived to talk about it, save for one."
Jacelyn nodded, eager to hear more. He had heard of this strange isle. None but the dead may visit there, so the singers said. "Go on."
"Mermaids live there." Y/n turned and looked out the window. There was a full moon out, its light hidden by smoke. "When the moon is full, they swim out of their caves and sing. Sometimes, if the wind is still, you might even hear them. They are wild and wilful, blessing whom they wish and hindering whom they wish. It is who they are—generous and cruel, like the seas they call home.”
The words came to her easily. “Once, long before the building of the Wall and the Long Night, a young fisherman got lost at sea. His boat was caught in a terrible storm and blown off course. He did not know where he was. Clouds hid the stars. He was stranded, certain of his doom. And that was when he heard her. Her song was one of old magic. It had no words, none of which he recognized. That melody grew louder and louder as she swam closer and closer to the boat."
Y/n paused to gather her breath. Jacelyn placed his hand over hers, gave it a gentle squeeze, and whispered, "Go on."
She flushed again but continued. "He was struck dumb when the cause for such beautiful singing became clear. I am hungry, the Mermaid said, and in his own tongue. Pray do you have anything to eat?
“He did have something. Just this wet loaf of bread and salt fish, he cried. It was all he had, but he gave it to her anyway. He sat and watched while she ate and had her fill, thinking she would swim away and leave him to his fate."
"She did not?" Jacelyn asked hopefully.
"She did not," Y/n replied and smiled. "She called her sisters to her, and they pulled his boat to Lonely Light. They let him stay with them until the weather cleared, fixed his boat, and sent him away after giving him enough to last the journey back home."
"And that was not all, was it?" Jacelyn smiled again. He found himself drawn in, not just by the tale, but by y/n herself.
"That was not all," Y/n's smile grew. "The fisherman always took his boat to the same place he first met her, and she would always come to him. He told no one of her or how he always struck good fortune with his nets. He spoke to none of their trysts. She soon gave him a child, a son. That child could not live with her. He was part mortal. His father kept him and brought him out every day to visit with his mother. My mother says that boy was the father of our House. She said, there is still a touch of that Mermaid's blood in us."
Jacelyn sighed in relief. "That is a much better tale. Thank you, my lady."
Y/n nodded, and rose to her feet. "I will leave you to your rest. Good night, Jacelyn."
"Will I see you tomorrow night?" He called to her when she reached the door. The room already felt dreary and more than a little cold. He did not want to be alone. He did not want y/n to leave. "Perhaps you can tell me another tale?"
Y/n turned to face him. She found herself possessed by an odd but pleasant sense of anticipation. "What would you like to hear?"
"Everything," Jacelyn heard himself say. "I want to hear everything."
#Jacelyn bywater#jacelyn bywater x reader#jacelyn bywater imagine#reader insert#x reader#a game of thrones#game of thrones#game of thrones imagine#game of thrones x reader#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf#asoiaf x reader#asoiaf imagine#fanfiction#writeblr#💫whimsy's shenanigans#💫a world of whimsy writes
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I'm Yours, But You Can't Be Mine | Dark!Robb Stark x fem Knight!Reader
Summary: The Freys and the Boltons were so close in their attempt to assassinate Robb Stark and switch the tides in favor of the Lannisters. But a knight's devotion to her king should never be tested. Her loyalty always remains true, even if she breaks the heart of the man she loves in order to protect him.
Trigger Warning(s): MDNI 18+, blood, gore, graphic violence, forced abortion, violence against women, canon character deaths (not Robb or Starks), graphic smut, more hurt than comfort, Talisa is a spy (and a ho), Reader has post-murder clarity and guilt
A/N: A couple of days ago, I woke up and chose violence (emotionally and "literature"-ally) ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ. Also, Theon Greyjoy never betrayed Robb in this fic bc I said so - HOORAY! Also, if anyone can tell me how I can use different fonts in my posts, that would be great.
Walking out from the tent where the emergency council meeting was held, you steeled yourself for the information you would have to discuss with your king. With each step falling to the ground, bringing you closer to his tent, the boulder in your stomach grew more and more heavy.
“This is a bad idea,” you thought to yourself. “This is a bad idea and a mistake; he will never forgive you if you go through this.”
But you made a promise – and as Ned Stark taught you, you would keep it because it was right and honorable. Because when choosing between what is right and what is easy…you must always choose what is right.
You stopped before the two Northmen who stood outside your king’s tent as guardsmen. Their postures straightened and appeared as imposing as possible when facing you.
“Turn back, Ser (Y/N),” one guard said. “No matter how familiar with King Robb, we are on strict orders from Lady Catelyn that no one but her and Princess Arya are permitted to enter His Grace’s tent.”
“I need to speak with the King,” you spoke in your best militant and authoritative tone. “His lords and I just held an emergency council meeting to discuss House Frey’s betrayal. I need to ensure that no information is held from him.”
“Perhaps it be best you let His Grace rest,” the other guard spat out. “He had just lost his queen and future heir at the hands of Walder Frey – even if his wife was a spying, traitorous cunt sent by Tywin Lannister. We could all use some time to mourn.”
You snarled and grabbed your dagger when you saw the sigil sewn on her sheath. He belonged to House Blackwood. Your eyes softened as you recognized him as Bywin Blackwood, cousin to Lucas Blackwood, one of the four hundred casualties slain by Hosteen Frey. Taking a deep breath, you tried to appeal to their sympathetic natures.
“I concur, Ser Bywin,” you said. “But you cannot deny that time is of the essence. Three days have passed since the failed Red Wedding, and word has surely reached Tywin Lannister and the rest of the Red Keep of their failure. I fear for Princess Sansa’s life if we do not take action soon. Her well-being is entirely dependent on King Joffery and his bitch mother’s whims and wishes. The faster I can bring our king up to speed, the faster we can retaliate and bring our former liege lord’s daughter back.”
You watched them glance at one another before delivering the final blow. “And then we can all go home so that we may finally properly mourn and honor the lives lost in this war.”
They let you through, and you entered your king’s tent. Seeing your friend lying so still on his cot broke your heart. His chest was wrapped entirely in gauze and bandages, and the memory of seeing the arrows puncture his body swept chills down your back. Grey Wind sat beside him as dutifully as ever and did not even turn his head to look at you when you entered. Like his master, Grey Wind was a beast of discipline and strength. He and Robb shared the same qualities of holding the stoic appearance of a leader – even when the world around them came crumbling down. But here, at this moment, Grey Wind was neither a beast nor a leader. At this moment, he was simply the pet whose mind was running rampant with worry from fear of his dearest friend never waking up.
You held out your hand and called out his name. “Grey Wind.”
His head finally turned to face you. You often wondered if he was more man than beast, sometimes based on how soulful his eyes looked alone. You crouched on the ground and beckoned him to you.
“Come here, boy. Are you thirsty? I brought you water.”
He immediately trotted to you and showed his joy in seeing you were alive by licking your face and nudging you with his wet nose. You softly laughed at his eagerness to shower you in love while also inspecting your body to see if you were injured or carrying weapons. His body stilled, and his fur stood as he stopped to sniff the sword resting on your hip. He took a sniff and bared his teeth to let out a low growl when he recognized the scent of Talisa’s blood soaking the metal of your blade underneath the leather sheath.
You petted him and spoke in low whispers to calm him down. “It’s alright, boy. She met her end – you and I both ensured that.”
A pained voice rasped out. “I don’t suppose you got any information out of it?”
Your eyes widened at the only other voice in the room, and Grey Wind immediately returned to Robb’s side.
Tears filled your eyes as relief flooded your body. “Robb,” you sobbed out.
Before you could stop yourself, you flung yourself to hug him. “You’re alive! Oh gods – you’re alive!”
Returning your embrace, Robb held you close. “I am, and so are my mother and most of our men—all thanks to you.”
But the happy atmosphere became sour and somber when he looked down at your sword. The memory of your hands covered in his wife’s blood as you stormed into Frey’s Great Hall with the rest of his men was fresh in his mind. Fury swirled and thundered inside him as he learned he had been played as a fool by Tywin Lannister. Using one of his vassal house’s daughters as a spy while disguised as a healer so that she could seduce him was a low he never thought those fucking lions would stoop down to, but they had, and he will have their heads on spikes.
His grip on your arms grew harder. “Did she suffer?” he asked.
You looked him straight in the eyes. “Every second until she had her last breath.”
“Good,” was his only response.
“Robb,” you started. What you were about to tell him was cruel, but he needed to know. “I tore her child out from her womb…it had blonde hair.”
Robb let out a bitter laugh and clenched his fists. “So not only was she a spy, but she was also a whore.” He shook his head. “I was a fool.”
You took his hand in yours. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. She had us all fooled.”
Robb shook his head. “Not you. She never fooled you. You hated her the minute you saw her, and you were right, too.”
You never once hid your distrust and dislike for her from the moment she and Robb locked eyes, a distrust that only grew more intense when Robb decided to marry her, thus breaking the vow he made with Walder Frey. But despite your skepticism of Talisa Maegyr, you never suspected she was a spy under Tywin Lannister. Eventually, though, you began to trust her after observing her for countless hours.
She wasn’t a Frey girl, but she might be good to Robb. Maybe she would make him happy.
Robb tucked in a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Who would’ve thought that your natural hatred and distrust for anything pretty would come in so handy?”
“I do not hate all things ‘pretty,’” you scoffed. “I just have a natural distrust for things that seem too good to be true that happen to be pretty. Why do you think I ran away from you for so long?”
Robb smirked. “But you always trusted my father?” he chuckled.
"Ned Stark was someone who was born into privilege and knew it," you shrugged. “Besides, he was old and fat when he found me. And I didn’t think it would be useful until now.”
You thought it strange to see her leave the feast so early, claiming that she felt ill, and one of Bolton’s soldiers escorted her to her chambers. You whispered to Theon that you needed some air before quietly following them. You found them discussing how everything was set and how House Stark would fall that night. Talisa’s true name was Joy Marband, one of House Lannister’s vassal houses in the Westerlands. Tal- Joy ensured Lord Bolton that House Lannister would reward him for his loyalty to the crown. Horrified by this revelation, you rushed to where Grey Wind was locked up and freed him after slaying the guards that stood in front of his kennel.
“Grey Wind, gather the men,” you ordered. “Gather as many as possible and lead them to the Great Hall! We don’t have much time!” Grey Wind howled before doing exactly as you ordered. When he parted, you set off to find the spying whore. On your way to find her, you slew every son, guard, knight, squire, and steward that came across you.
You found her all right – found her in her chambers getting fucked from behind by one of Lord Frey’s many bastard sons. You took out your dagger and gutted him from balls to the chest before cutting off his pathetic cock. It gave you a sick amount of pleasure to see how his blood sprayed across the room – from the walls to the bed, on the traitorous cunt’s back he was fucking to on your clothes. His body went limp as a massive puddle of blood surrounded him. After watching him die, you turned your attention to her.
“Please,” she cried while clutching a blood-splattered sheet close to her chest. “Please, I am with child – Robb’s child!”
You reached out, and your hand squeezed around her throat as she tried to claw her way out of your grasp. Anger being your drive, you slammed her head against the headboard of the bed and watched as her lips turned blue from lack of air.
“Don’t you say his name,” you growled. “Don’t you EVER say his name!”
You flung her like she was a simple ragdoll as her body slammed against the stone wall adjacent to the bed. She coughed and gasped for air while rubbing her throat – the bruises were already forming. You stalked towards her before she could crawl away.
“Robb trusted you!” you thundered. “Lady Stark trusted you! The North trusted you – I TRUSTED YOU!”
You towered over her, grabbed a fistful of her umber-shaded locks, and forcefully yanked it until her face was only inches from yours. “AND WHAT DID YOU DO? YOU TOOK THAT TRUST AND REPAID IT WITH BETRAYAL!”
She tried to crawl away before you stomped on her hand and felt it being crushed underneath the sole of your boot. Your former queen wailed in agony from the pain that almost hid the sound of her bones cracking. The dagger you used to fill the bleeding corpse was still in your other hand, and you knelt to trace Lady Marband’s pretty face with its tip.
“W-w-what are you going to do to me?” she pathetically sniffled.
“I have – STOP CRYING! I have only one question for you,” you harshly whispered. “Did my king truly sire the child in your womb?”
“YES!” she cried out quickly…too quickly. Your jaw clenched so hard you thought your teeth would break from all the pressure.
“…Liar,” you hissed.
With nothing left to stop you, you took your dagger and stabbed it into her body. Dragging the blade until her insides were spilling out into your hands, you dug your find to find the child. Her screams howled louder than any beast at night, and you were almost worried that her wails would give away your position. But all those worries went away when you tore the fetus from her womb. Pouring water on it, you found tiny wisps of hair…straight, blond wisps of hair that more resembled the color of golden wheat than Robb’s dark, russet curls.
Hearing Grey Wind’s howl outside the window, you knew it was time. Still holding the whore’s limb and bloodied bastard in your hand, you raced to find Grey Wind. If your suspicions were true, most of the archers for House Frey were already inside the Great Hall while the feast was happening. If you didn’t hurry, you and the men Grey Wind gathered would be too late. You managed to locate him quickly and were relieved to find thousands of men behind him as he immediately trotted to your side.
“Queen Talisa Maegyr is a traitor working for the Lannisters!” you loudly roared. “She belongs to House Marband—one of their vassal houses! Tywin Lannister had sent her to spy on and seduce your king!”
You raised the dead babe high above your head for all the men to see. “The babe in her stomach is not even Robb’s! If you wish for proof, see for yourself!”
You flung its body to the nearest man. He picked it up, and you can see his eyes widen and fill with rage before confirming your words as truth.
“BLONDE!” he bellowed for all his comrades to hear. “BLONDE LIKE JOFFERY AND HIS WHORE MOTHER, HIDING IN THEIR RED SHIT-STAINED CASTLE!”
Cries and shouts of outrage and anger amongst the men. You watched with bated breath as the surge of revenge and the need for bloodshed filled their hearts. You then revealed that Walder Frey and Roose Bolton were also in a secret allegiance with House Lannister and watched as enraged spirits filled the men with enough fury to take down an army of ten thousand. The North needed something to boost morale, and here it was. You looked down at Grey Wind. He stared back into your eyes with the same loyalty he gives Robb, and you know what you must do.
With one swipe, you unsheathe your blade, ‘Purge,’ and raise it above your head as the men go silent.
You shouted before leading the charge into the keep. “COME WITH ME AND LET’S TAKE THESE FUCKING FREYS TO THEIR GRAVES!”
Grey Wind howled to the sky, and the men raised their weapons to let out their battle cries as they followed you, storming into the keep. You shouted orders for the Riverland archers to run to the upper levels to take down the Freys perched there. Your king’s direwolf raced ahead and took down any soldier that tried to cross him. By the time you and the men reached the doors leading to the Great Hall, all of Grey Wind’s face was soaked with spilled red liquid life save for his golden eyes.
You pushed the door open just in time to see Robb stagger back from the arrows piercing his chest. Just when Roose Bolton tried to deliver the final blow, Grey Wind let out a booming bark before dashing to Lord Bolton and clamping his teeth into his neck. Meanwhile, you went to where Theon was held and removed the heads of the men who were pinning him down with a single swing. You grabbed him by his doublet’s collar, yanked him to his feet, and shoved a spare sword in his hand.
“Grab Robb and his mother, and get out of here!” you ordered.
He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you–”
“Dammit Theon! Don’t argue with me!” you shouted. “Just get Robb and Lady Catelyn somewhere safe!”
Theon looked at the chaos unfolding around him. “What about Queen Talisa?”
“She’s dead! I killed her!” you answered.
“WHAT?!” Theon’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head.
You rolled your eyes. “Tywin Lannister sent her to spy and fuck Robb – NOW, GO!”
Once you saw Theon take Lady Stark and they dragged Robb’s bleeding body to safety, you could finally focus on the fight. You focused your sights on every man who wore a Frey or Bolton sigil and didn’t stop until each one was lying at your feet. The blood spilled from each slash, stab, and chop from Purge soaked your clothes and caked your face. But it was as if a dark ritual had taken place, as their blood only seemed to empower each and every one of your attacks. Before long, it was too late for House Frey and House Bolton. Walder Frey and Roose Bolton were bleeding at the Northmen’s feet, and any reinforcements called were immediately subdued and taken into custody.
As far as you were concerned, the only Frey left in the hall was Roslin—but whether she and the rest of her sisters would keep their heads after their surviving brothers would soon lose theirs didn’t really matter to you.
“I’m alive,” Robb began while cupping your cheek, “because of you. The North survived because of you. How can I ever repay you?”
You held his hand. “I didn’t save you for your gratitude, Robb. I didn’t save you so that you could repay me with titles, money, or lands. I saved you because it was my duty. I saved you because I swore to that night Joffery called for your father’s head, and we named you ‘King of the North.’ I saved you because I…”
Robb titled his head. “Because you what?”
“Don’t make me say it,” you whispered.
“Because you love me?” he softly asked. Pressing his forehead to yours, he continued. “Because I do…you know I do.”
You shook your head. “No, Robb – please. Please don’t do this to me. Don’t say things you don’t mean to make me look less foolish.”
You tried to move back and away from the man you’ve longed after for as long as you could remember. But Robb took your hands and pressed them close to his chest as he implored you to remain by his side.
“That night, after they named me ‘King of the North.’ Do you remember? We were in my tent. I told you I wanted to be alone, but you refused to leave me. I cried and lashed like a screaming child, but you never left.”
This was getting too far. This wasn’t why you came here. “Robb, you need to listen to me–”
But Robb didn’t stop talking. “You just stood there – taking it until you finally took me in your arms and held me. You didn’t say a word; you just let me cry out my pain. Like that time when we captured the Kingslayer, you held my hand when I kneeled in front of the Whispering Wood to mourn the men I lost. You didn’t speak of how brilliant I was or how the lives lost were for a good cause; you let me be me and mourn.”
“Robb–”
“That’s when I knew I loved you – that I’ve always loved you. And then, when we kissed–”
“I’m leaving,” you blurted out, “to Maidenpool tomorrow morning.”
The silence between you two seemed to echo louder than any wind that howled during the fiercest storms. Shock was the first thing on Robb’s face before complete and utter horror took over.
You may have spoken too quickly. “Well, no…technically, I and…a few other riders will be headed to Maidenpool tomorrow morning. We need to prepare a ship for your voyage to Dragonstone.”
“…What?” His voice sounded so broken that you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.
You combed your fingers through the stray hairs in front of your face. Then, you took a deep breath to prepare for the little speech you had prepared for this moment. This was the plan you and all lords agreed on. It was a good plan, and it was going to work. That’s all you needed to believe to convince Robb.
“Stannis is the realm’s best chance for peace. Perhaps he’s too stubborn but needs more people on his council. Your lords and I decided it was best if you traveled to Dragonstone to try and convince him to become allies with us. But you still need a few more days to recover. So, by the time you arrive at the docks, the ship will be ready. That’s why I – we’re traveling to Maidenpool… to travel to Dragonstone.”
“And after?” Robb breathily asked. His grip on you tightened in desperate hopes of keeping you close. “After we speak with Stannis, we’ll come back? You and me—we’re coming back together?”
You looked away. “You’ll be coming back…along with everyone else. But I…I won’t be coming with you.”
“But I…I won’t be coming with you.”
Robb dropped his hands as if you burned him. You were lying. You had to be – you weren’t genuinely thinking about…about leaving him.
“No,” he panted with terrified eyes. “No, no, no, please.”
You cupped his face. “Robb, please understand–”
“What’s there to understand?!” he cried out. “I love you! And you love me – and yet you’re leaving me! Why?”
“You don’t love me,” you countered. “You’re only saying you love me because you’re angry and hurt by Talisa–”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about that whore,” he spat out.
You rolled your eyes. “Robb, please. You married her. You took her as your wife and nearly ruined the North because of that choice. Of course, you loved her. And, understandably, you’re lashing out because she betrayed you. But don’t lie to me and say you didn’t love her.”
“(Y/N), love,” he beseechingly thought, “you have no idea how wrong you are.”
Robb snarled like the wolf he was at your words. “I married her because I thought she was carrying my child, and I didn’t want my future heir to be a bastard.”
“Even so, that doesn’t explain why–”
You were going to hate him for what he was about to say. “Because you refused me.”
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his shameful reveal. Robb never felt more rueful and penitent of his naivety than now. The last thing he wanted was your disgust and hatred, but he needed you to understand how long he’s loved you. He needed you to realize that you were always the one who held his heart and sanity – without you, he was nothing, as was proven by the Freys and Boltons’ betrayal.
“Robb, I…I don’t – I don’t understand,” you stammered. Your eyes showed that your mind was running amok with questions and a desperate need for clarification. “Wha-…what are you talking about?”
Robb took a deep breath and tried to swallow the lump lodged in his throat.
“That night when my bannermen named me ‘King,’ you followed me to my tent. I kept lashing at you like an angry child, but you never left my side. And then…we kissed, and it led to more. The following day, I wanted to find you – to declare my love for you fully. But every time I got near you…you turned away like I was poison. That’s why I turned to Talisa…to try to forget about you.”
Your eyes widened in horror as your chest moved up and down with shaky breaths. “You broke your vows with Walder Frey…was because of me? You bedded and married Talisa because of me? …I hurt you… a-a-and–” You let out a trembling sob. “–Oh gods, this is all my fault! I-i-if I hadn’t confused you that night–”
Robb could feel you slipping away and continued to try to tether you to him.
“No, my love,” he cooed. “You never confused me. You’re not listening to me. I’ve always loved you, even before that night.”
Robb tried to hold you close, but you harshly shoved him back and stood. He watched as tears continued to fill your eyes, and your face carried an expression that could only be described as overwhelming guilt. Robb flung the covers off him and tried to walk towards you, but each step he took closer to you made you step further back.
You stared at him with a shameful expression. “Robb, I…I was wrong to let things escalate between us. You had just been declared king and were grieving for your father, and I took advantage of your grief and vulnerability–”
Robb tenderly held your face. “No, no, no—you didn’t, though. (Y/N) That night…you gave me your love. You didn’t say it, but you gave me your love, and I gave you mine. I never regretted that night or laying with you. How you spurned my attempts to connect with you afterward—that was what hurt me the most.”
“Robb…” you sobbed his name as tears strolled down your cheeks. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just wanted…I thought if I weren’t beside you…I’d also be protecting you from distractions from the war and your duty to the Freys – oh gods, I’m so sorry.”
You put your hand over your face. “Robb, if that night never happened…if I never followed you to your tent then…then, we wouldn’t be in this mess! All of this is my fault! Talisa, the Lannisters, the broken vow with Walder Frey – the North is more vulnerable than ever, and it’s because of me! …I mutilated a pregnant woman and murdered her unborn child.”
Robb helplessly watched as you continued to blame yourself for his foolishness. Knowing you would want your privacy, he sent Grey Wind away to guard his tent. Gods, his father would be so ashamed of him if he saw him now. He watched as you fell to the ground and began to weep out apologies to every soldier who was murdered by the Boltons and Freys at the Red Wedding.
…Lucas Blackwood…Dacey Mormont…Patrek Mallister…Robin Flint…Ser Wendel Manderly…Owen Norrey…And over three hundred other men and soldiers whose blood were spilled that night.
You even begged for forgiveness from the old gods and new ones, for the blood that belonged to Joy Marband that will forever remain on your hands, along with the stolen breaths of her unborn son.
But then the tears stopped…and an eerie calm cloaked the tent. Your eyes were red and swollen, but a spark of mad clarity was dancing in them. Very slowly, you stood with your head still bowed.
“I have to leave,” you whispered. “I have to leave and never come back. If I stay, I’ll only continue to ruin you and our cause more than I already have.”
You turned away to leave, but Robb reached out to stop you before you could take another step. He begged you to look at him, pleading for you to listen to reason before making any rash decisions. When you stubbornly refused, he grabbed your jaw and forcefully turned your head to face him. His crystal-blue eyes were wide with fear and misty from anguish. He had to make you understand that your leaving was not an option.
“(Y/N), look at me—please, love,” Robb implored. " If you leave me, I will never recover. If you dare leave my side, I will tear all of Westeros apart—leaving no stone unturned, no cave unsearched, no village left unplundered. We belong together. You and me – ruling the North, side-by-side in Winterfell. Us, together, spending every night in each other’s arms, with each morning beginning by being greeted by our children.”
He pulled your face closer until your lips were only a few inches away, and your individual breaths intermingled to become one. You want that life with him—just as he wants that life with you. So why can’t you embrace it and share it with him?
You shut your gaze from him and tried to choke down the pain. “It doesn’t matter what either of us wants. All that matters right now is what we need. What matters is how we can gather ourselves from these losses and try to form allies. And if me being here distracts you from that, then…then I need to leave.”
Robb determinedly shakes his head. “No, no – I don’t accept that.”
“Robb–” you tried to reason, but all of your pleas were cut off when he pressed his lips against yours.
And just like that – all words floated away like debris falling into a steady river.
A warm and tingling sensation ran down (Y/N)’s body as their lips met, and she closed her eyes to fully succumb to the sensation. She knew that she should have pushed him away immediately. But as Robb continued to hold her face gently to deepen the kiss, all sense of reason fled from (Y/N)’s mind when his lips moved against hers with gentle and firm urgency. In that moment, nothing mattered – not the messy past, the unstable present, or the uncertain future. At that moment, (Y/N) felt completely free of all worries and fears as Robb’s hands began to trail down to wrap his arms around her waist to hold her closer while (Y/N) wrapped her arms over his neck.
Despite the constriction of their lungs, neither wanted to part. If they could die in this embrace, then so be it. (Y/N) felt every hard, warm muscle of Robb’s body pressed against hers as they began to walk back until the back of his knees hit his cot’s edge. They tumbled onto the cot, and the fall caused Robb to fall on his back with (Y/N)’s soft and supple frame to press further against him. He slightly winced in pain, which caused the two lovers to finally part. As (Y/N) stared down at her king with a concerned expression, Robb thought an angel was with him.
He stared at her flushed cheeks and lust-glazed eyes with naked longing. Her (h/c) strands tumbled to form a curtain hiding their faces. Staring at the mythic beauty over him, Robb knew he wanted this with (Y/N) forever. Meanwhile, (Y/N) gently swept his curls from his face before trailing her hands down his bandaged chest to search if any wounds had been opened.
“Do you need me to stop?” she asked, her heart beating a hundred miles a minute. “You’re still healing, it might be best if we–”
“If you even think of finishing that sentence with ‘stop,’” Robb interjected. “I’ll bind your hands and take you from behind over and over until the only word you can say is my name – just to show you and everyone else that I could be dying from a cut-off leg if it means I can have you.”
(Y/N) rolled her eyes and giggled. “You’re so dramatic sometimes. I just don’t want you bleeding out and dying before I finish.”
Robb sat up, wrapped his arms around her, and forced her to straddle him. The sudden realization that Robb had been naked this entire time had somehow escaped (Y/N)’s attention as she felt the evidence of his heavily growing arousal against her body. His lips hovered as his warm breath hit her skin, and his low-timber voice whispered into her ear.
“At least you know where this night will take us,” he huskily growled. “Because I don’t plan on stopping until your womb is so full of my seed – it leaks from your cunt.”
He lowered his hands to grasp her hips before trailing them down to sink his hands over her ass. Showing his canines with a lecherous grin, Robb teasingly ground his hips against hers. He rubbed his hardening manhood against her warm core and reveled in the gasps and whimpers escaping her plumped lips. (Y/N) threw her head back as she could no longer hold back her cries of ecstasy. Taking full advantage of her exposed neck, Robb latched his lips just under her and traced the column of her neck with his soft, hot lips. The feeling of his lips combined with the scruff of his beard against her skin was nothing less than euphoric.
“Oh, Robb,” she breathily panted as their bodies rocked together in sync. “Gods, don’t stop!”
Her hands roamed until her fingers fisted around his dark copper curls. (Y/N) felt her lower body clench when he bit on a pulse point before giving languid strokes of his tongue on it. The contrast between his hot, wet tongue and the chill of his breath when he blew on it gave her goosebumps. (Y/N) softly pushed him back as she longingly gazed into his sapphire-ice pools with her (e/c) eyes and twirled one of his russet curls with her finger. Robb leaned forward and pressed a small peck on her lips as an overwhelming feeling of love encompassed him at her smile.
“I love you,” he sighed out, “do you know that? I love you, (Y/N). I love you so much.”
(Y/N) wanted so desperately to say it back, but the words failed. Seeing how much his love struggled, Robb cupped her cheek and reveled in her warmth as she nuzzled into his palm.
“You don’t have to say now,” he reassured her. “I just—I just want you to know that. Promise me no matter what, you know that.”
(Y/N) nodded. “I promise,” she said with a trembling voice. “I…I want it to say back. But I just…with everything that’s happened—I can’t help but feel like…if Red Wedding wasn’t going to be the thing that causes us to lose this war, I’m so scared of what will.”
Robb pressed a soft kiss to (Y/N)’s temple. “Don’t be scared. I know we’ll make it. We will win this war and take King’s Landing from the Lannisters. And when we do, Sansa will finally be free, and we can all return home.”
“To where you’ll rule the North as King in Winterfell,” (Y/N) mused in a wistful tone. “It feels like a sin to even dream of it now.”
Robb stroked his thumb over her cheek. “It’ll be your home, too.”
(Y/N) gave her beautiful king a genuine but sad smile. “I don’t want to talk about the future right now.”
Robb’s brow furrowed at her foreboding words. “What do you want to talk about?”
When (Y/N) pulled away and stepped off his lap, Robb was prepared to chase her through the camp naked if she dared run away while he was in this state. But she just stepped to the center of the space before removing her boots, followed by her stripping the dark leather breeches slowly down until the bare skin of her legs was revealed. She then lifted her tunic over her head along with her chest binder.
Robb was so painfully hard just from looking at her. He cursed himself for thinking he could ever be happy with Talisa, knowing that perfection was standing before him in his tent. His eyes drank in the sight of (Y/N)’s naked body as if looking away would kill him. He took it all in, from every scar that faded to a pale sliver to every beauty mark unique to her. He wondered if she truly knew how beautiful she was…if she understood how much she had completely and utterly bewitched his soul just with her presence. He wondered if she knew how much he wanted to kneel at her feet so that he could beg for her permission to let him worship her for the rest of his life.
(Y/N) began to walk toward him, and it felt as if the world around them was fading into incoherence, and only the two of them were left. When she finally reached him, she took his hand and placed it over her heart. She wanted him to feel it racing from his touch, from his gaze. Then, she lowered herself until her eyes leveled with his as she sat on the cot’s blankets. With her hands, she cupped his face and poured all her love for her king from her eyes.
“I’m tired,” she sighed. “I’m tired of pretending I don’t want this…of pretending I don’t want you. But most of all…I’m so tired of pretending that I…that I don’t love you.”
It felt like an enormous weight had been lifted off her shoulders as (Y/N) finally confessed her love for her king, Robb Stark. The man she marched with from Winterfell when Joffery first imprisoned his father. The man whom she fought beside and watched mourn for every good man who fell fighting for him. The man she’s loved since before she knew what love meant.
(Y/N) let out a heavy sob. “Because I do, Robb. I do love you. Gods, I love you so much – not just as a soldier loves their king, but as a woman who loves a man.”
Robb hadn’t realized he was crying until (Y/N) wiped a tear with her thumb. He took his hand from her chest and pulled her face towards him until their lips met again. Wet laughter mixed with tears and kisses made for a strange sight for an outsider, but it was a moment filled with more love and happiness than these two dared to hope. The way their bodies moved and swayed before (Y/N) fell on her back underneath Robb Stark as he hovered above her looked more akin to an awkward entanglement of limbs than an impassioned embrace. But for the two lovers, kissing each other seemed as easy as breathing and soothing like a gently falling summer snow. (Y/N) marveled at how easy it was to kiss Robb. It almost felt organic, with how naturally drunk they became by the taste of the other.
Soon, the kiss became more heated as (Y/N) and Robb grew more hungry to explore more of each other’s bodies. The more heated Robb kissed her, the more eager (Y/N)’s hands grew to explore his strong, muscular body. Her hands caressed his warm skin, and her fingers softly traced the scars that made him all the more desirable. His lips trailed to her chin and traveled down her neck until he had just reached the tops of her breasts. Grinning at how hard she was breathing, he took one breast in his hand and twisted her nipple. A needy cry left her lips at his harsh tugging before turning into a high-pitched whine when he bit the other.
Pleasure coursed through (Y/N)’s body like blue-hot lightning as her back arched into his body, and her entire frame felt paralyzed from it. She felt her core leaking from arousal as Robb’s hard, throbbing member was pressed against her stomach. Deciding that if he waited any longer, then he would likely burst, Robb used one hand to roam down (Y/N)’s body until he settled in the special place between her legs. He then took the other breast and tugged its nipple between his teeth before using his other hand to tug and twist the one previously in his mouth. Meanwhile, (Y/N)’s mind was so clouded in lust that she could not feel Robb stroking her clit with one finger before sinking two fingers inside her walls.
“Fuck…your walls are so tight on my fingers,” he huskily groaned as (Y/N) wept in ecstasy. “Such a wicked girl…avoiding your king and keeping this sweet cunt away from me. Every time I laid with that whore, I had to fight the urge to call out your name when I spilled into her. But you won’t do that anymore, will you? You know better to run now, right?”
“I-I-I won’t run! I’m yours, Robb! I only belong to you!” She stammered as Robb began to rub tight circles with his now-soaked fingers on her clit. She thrashed against the covers, fisting the furs on his bed to somehow anchor her. Her core tightened, and no matter how much she wanted to close her legs, his hips prevented her from doing so. As a result, (Y/N) had to take it and continue drowning in the pleasure that was Robb Stark’s love.
“Good girl,” Robb darkly chuckled as he straightened his back and placed his hands on the back of her thighs to spread them wide. He took his cock in his hand and rubbed its leaking tip against her folds. “Are you ready for me to take you? Are you ready to know how a wolf breeds his mate?”
(Y/N) quickly nodded. She couldn’t take the waiting any longer. “Please, Robb,” she begged. “Please take me—make me yours!”
With a single thrust, Robb plunged his entire length inside until he bottomed out, and the tip of his manhood kissed the entrance of her womb. The stretch of his thick, hard member against her walls gave the most delicious burn that made (Y/N) peak from the feeling of how deep he was inside her. Meanwhile, Robb’s face snarled at how warm and tight (Y/N)’s cunt felt around him. As her walls tightly clamped down on his length, he bit inside his cheek so hard that the coppery taste of blood coated his tongue to prevent him from erupting right then and there. His hand traveled to her hair and sharply tugged it back so that he could roughly kiss her. His blood only further aroused (Y/N)’s lust for the man inside her as she considered it another sign that she had tasted more of her king and another piece was inside her. Emboldened by this action, she wrapped her tights around his hips to further mold their bodies as one.
The way (Y/N)’s body was pressed against his inflamed Robb’s ardor as he pulled out until only the tip was still inside before roughly thrusting himself in fully. Each time he pulled out and pushed back in, she gave him a symphony of cries and begging that could be heard throughout the camp. The slapping of their skin from each thrust inside of (Y/N) made him grip her hips so tightly that she could already feel the bruises forming on her skin as a steady pace had been reached.
Sweat built on both the lovers’ bodies as (Y/N) began to dig her nails into Robb’s skin and claw long scratches down his back. The twinge of pain only made the young king want to sink deeper and deeper into her until they became one inseparable being. Robb tried to remind himself to go slower to avoid harm (Y/N), but one look in her eyes told him there was no need to hold back.
“Take me,” her eyes begged. “Make me completely yours from this day until my last days.”
Upon her request, it felt as if a dormant beast had taken over Robb, as all he could think about was how much he wanted to take her faster, harder, and rougher – until the only word she could say was his name. As he set off at a new pace, (Y/N)’s eyes rolled back as she began to babble out incoherent cries and moans. It felt like there was no part of her mind, body, and soul that wasn’t wholly drowning from waves of pleasure crashing into her.
She was sure the following day, she would do everything in her power to avoid everyone’s eyes, as they all likely heard her moaning for their king like a common whore. But for now, at this moment, she wanted to only exist for Robb and continue drowning in his love.
Soon, it wasn’t long before the familiar feeling of a knot tightening inside her began to coil more tautly as Robb continued to lavish her in his adoration. (Y/N) could feel her pleasure climbing higher and higher until the knot grew so tight that it snapped. It felt as if a dam had burst, and a heavy flood of pleasure crashed into every muscle of her body. The release had made her feel as if her body had reached new heights of pleasure so immense that it became almost painful as tears started to roll down her cheeks. (Y/N)’s eyes shot wide, and she opened her mouth as her back arched into him, but no sound was made. There was nothing that could adequately convey the
Feeling (Y/N) release on his cock, Robb growled as he felt the last vestiges of his sanity snap and lost all composure. He began to increase his pace until his thrusts became rough and frantic to chase his end. He pushed her thighs until they were pressed against her chest before wildly thrusting deeper inside her walls to feel more of her heat. He was able to fuck into her once, thrice, ten more times before his body went taut, and he spilled his seed into (Y/N)’s womb. Her soaked, vice walls gripped around him and tried to milk all of him in desperate want to carry his child.
As Robb felt the last of his cum leave him, a wave of exhaustion crashed into him, and his arms were no longer able to prevent his body from falling atop (Y/N). Panting for air and resting his head in the crook of her neck, Robb turned to rest on his side while making sure her body was still connected to his. His touch became soothing and gentle as he whispered his dreams and hopes for a child with her hair and his eyes to be borne from this night. She tiredly giggles as he delicately kisses her cheeks, nose, temple, and brow while he talks.
He wanted to weep tears of joy. He felt almost…blessed. After aimlessly wandering in a barren wasteland with no clear end, Robb felt as close to peace as the first time he shared a bed with (Y/N). Robb wraps his arms around her frame and brings furs to cover them as a chilling breeze enters the tent, and (Y/N) shivers from the chill. He tightens his embrace as sleep takes over him.
He whispers in her ear, “I love you, (Y/N). We will be so happy together. I know we will.”
She slightly hesitates before replying. “I am yours, Robb. I swear this to you.”
Her king was so lost in his bliss that he didn’t notice the sadness in her eyes and the tremble in her voice.
A gentle stream of light stirred Robb awake. He stretched his arms and blearily rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Based on how loud it was outside his tent, it was late in the day. He reached out to hold you once more…when he felt your side of his bed feel cold. Immediately alarmed, Robb shot up and looked around his surroundings.
There was no sign of you anywhere.
Your clothes…your bag…your sword…even your bloody scent was gone!
Robb shot out of bed and hastily dressed himself in only his breeches and doublet to begin searching for you. But just as he was about to leave after putting on his boots, a small scroll had been placed in the middle of his desk. He dashed over and quickly opened it. The instant relief from recognizing your handwriting cruelly died as he read over your words, and he could feel his heart breaking.
Every word I said last night holds true – from this day to my last day. I am yours, Robb Stark. But you cannot be mine.
Also, I plan to make this a...3 part series? Let me know if you want to be tagged!
Please comment your thoughts and reblog if you think more people would like to read this!
Tagging: @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @llonelygoddess, @arcielee, @countrymusiclover, @yns-world, @axelsagewrites, @bre99, @katzoinks, @asongofrhaenyra, @rise-my-angel, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @anewpersonthatexists, @bogbutteronmycroissant, @sylasthegrim, @writingsofwesteros, @julessworldd , @dipperscavern
#robb stark x reader#robb stark x female reader#robb stark x fem reader#robb stark fanfic#robb stark smut#game of thrones fix it#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones fic#game of thrones#a song of ice and fire#dark robb stark#dark fic#my writing
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samcaitforever
Без названия