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luvinescent · 5 months

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Entangled Fates

Pairing: Robb Stark x fem!Targaryen!Reader

Summary: The Targaryen name has brought nothing but misery to Y/N— her half-blood placing a curse upon her. She's observed the toll her presence takes on the people she loves; no longer wanting to form a close tie with anyone. Nevertheless, her heart steered its own course. And it steered towards a certain man.

Warnings: angst. allusion to r*pe and death, nothing descriptive. a steamy make-out scene but nothing crazy. not really book or show accurate but f it we ball. also fluff. also reader has dark hair so just pretend u do if u don't xoxo.

Word count: 10.1K (beginning just has lots of background lore pls bear w/ me)

In life, there are those destined for lavish living and those made to struggle to see their next day. From a young age, Dorea knew she fell into the second category. She grew up orphaned; never knowing the love of a mother or a father. Despite the fact, Dorea was strong willed; she found her own kind of love. Love for herself, love for her friends, and love for her life. She knows that she did not have the best life; her dresses had holes in them, she had to work from dawn to dusk, and she often would need to go days without eating. That ultimately changed the day a close friend of hers had come to her with a new line of work.

“One of the castles maids was executed, so her position is open to take”.

Looking back, she should’ve said no from the way a chill went up her spine. She had heard the rumors of the king having gone mad; but at the time, that was not her problem. Being a castle maid sounded a lot better than being a candle maker. All she had to do was clean the chambers and mind her business and pay would be given to her. The task sounded easy— it should’ve been easy. Dorea had ways of not drawing attention to herself. That is how she has made it this far in her life; from hiding. The peace of obscurity brought her comfort; being anonymous was a safe refuge that protected her from prying eyes and the entanglements of wicked connections. The girl was pure and innocent.

Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans.

She truly had done all she could to stay out of the eyes of the royal family. She should’ve been more careful, more attentive, more aware of the eyes that followed her unknowingly when she walked the halls. Her foolishness had caught up to her one day when a guard had dragged her to the throne room; thrown to the ground to kneel in front of the king, Aerys II Targaryen. Dorea was ready to open her mouth and beg for forgiveness on whatever crimes she had committed but was silenced in fear. “You will meet me in my chambers tonight”, he said. Dorea could do nothing but nod as she could not go against the kings’ words. The only thing she could do was look to the Hand of the King for some form of help, but they stood muted. Moments later, she was whisked away by some female servants— some of them her own friends— and was prepared for the event. She was washed and dressed properly; never have been so physically clean yet so dirty internally.

Later that night, her virtue and gaiety of life was destroyed when the king came and took her. She had prayed to the Gods that it was only a one-time thing. But the Gods seemed to find her plea a joke. The king would request her presence many more times and many more nights afterwards. Her position as a maid in the castle vanished overnight. Now, she stood as something different; still, she did not know exactly what. All Dorea knew was she felt shame as those working in the castle started to treat her different, with more respect and caution. She dreamt every night for this nightmare to end, but it only continued.

“The girl is pregnant, your grace”. The maestar told the king. Both fear and relief spread through her body. Fear in the sense that the king would have her eliminated to hide such sin, and relief that he might just send her away forever. It had to be one or the other; from what she has seen, the queen is currently pregnant as well and due in a few moons. Furthermore, he already had two children born, why would he need her? Her thoughts were interrupted by the third alternative she had feared the most, “You will continue to stay here. You will have the child”. Later that night, Dorea prayed once more for all this suffering to end. Finally, her prayer had been answered in the worst way possible.

She had heard the talks of the rebellion, but she never thought it would come to where she resigned. The king’s heir was now dead, along with his wife and children. The queen was now dead; dying from childbirth. The middle child and newest member of the royal family had been sent to exile. And the Mad King was now dead as well; stabbed by a member of his own Kingsguard.

Death and misery surrounded Dorea everywhere.

For her own safety, and her chance once again at freedom, she did what she knew she had to do. She ran away.

Dorea took refuge in a small village that resided in the Reach. Selling all the gifts and jewelry the king had bestowed upon her; she and her unborn child were set for life. A few moons later, Dorea gave birth during a warm summer night. As she held the newborn in her arms, she thought the Gods had finally decided to take pity on her and grant her some kindness. For starters, she had given birth to a girl. Dorea was thankful in the sense that the child would not be seen as a threat to the line of succession of the Iron throne. Additionally, the babe had no features of a Targaryen. Caressing the small amount of hair on her daughter’s hair, she was given hair as dark as night instead of the silvery-gold feature of her biological father. Dorea let out a sigh of relief once the girl opened her eyes— no violet eyes either. Pulling the babe closer to her chest, she gave a quick prayer and smiled down at the sleeping babe.

Dorea named her Y/N.

As time passed, Y/N quickly grew before her mothers’ eyes. Both her and her mother were beloved by the village folks— Dorea giving money to those who were in need, and her daughter who was tenderhearted and befriended all. No one in the village had known about Doreas’ past or Y/N true linage. And Dorea wanted to keep it that way. She, however, knew that one day it would all come back to bite her. Despite having run away, she knew that there were some people who knew of their existence. It did not help her case more when Y/N had begun to show a great fascination with fire; something the mothers of the village made jokes about, but Dorea knew the truth.

“You have dragon blood within you”, Dorea had whispered to her daughter one quiet night. “You are part Targaryen, but you must keep this a secret. I am only telling you this for your own safety. There are people in this world who will want to hurt you, to take you away from me. Do you understand darling?”. At just the age of eight, Y/N was smarter and brighter than her peers. Hearing such solemness in her mothers’ voice, she nodded, “Yes mother”.

Such a topic was dropped and never brought up again— that was until Y/N turned ten. Since Dorea had the funds, she had hired a tutor for the young girl. Y/N’s instructor was a retired tutor who had taught many kids from noble homes before moving to their village. The old man was just supposed to teach her simple things like language, arts, music, and maths. Without her mothers’ knowledge, Y/N brought up the topic of history to her teacher, particularly the history of the Targaryen household. And that’s where everything started.

It was one calm afternoon in their shared bedroom when Y/N had asked the question. “Mother, am I cursed?”. Dorea, puzzled, stopped brushing her daughter’s hair and turned towards her, “What kind of question is that?”. Y/N looked sheepishly to the side and confessed everything, “I have been learning history with my tutor. Targaryen history”. Before Dorea could respond, the young girl continued, “You say I am half Targaryen, and based upon their history, I must be cursed”. Dorea questioned what she meant and then let out a loud laugh at her daughters’ answer: “I have black hair mother”.

Dorea caressed her daughters face, smiling and shaking her head, “Darling, your hair color does not mean anyth- “.

“But its true mother!” Y/N exclaimed, “It is shown all over their history. Rhaenyra Targaryen’s eldest sons were born with dark hair, and they all died before they could reach adulthood. Rhaenys Targaryen was known as the “Queen Who Never Was” and saw the death of her two children in her lifetime. Rhaegar Targaryen’s daughter was killed in the sack of Kings Landing. Valarr Targaryen was- “.

“What does any of that have to do with you?!”, Dorea shouted out, startling Y/N. The young girl felt tears come to her eyes as she hid herself in her mothers’ embrace, muffling her words, “They were not pure Targaryen. I am not a pure Targaryen, mother. I do not wish to fall to such misfortunes”. Dorea felt her heart break at the sound and thoughts of her daughters’ troubles. Shaking her head, Dorea raised Y/Ns’ head and looked straight into her eyes, “You are not cursed. Their misfortunes are not yours. Do you hear me girl? This is your life, and you control it”. Y/N could do nothing but continue to cry. "It's okay, sweetheart," her mother whispered, her voice a tender melody that carried reassurance. Dorea cradled the young girl, whose sobs softened but still lingered, the remnants of a storm that had raged within her fragile heart. “I will protect you no matter what”, she declared.

Y/N would forever remember that loving moment, amongst the many others she shared with her mother. While Dorea had said she would do anything to protect her, Y/N should’ve said the same thing back. Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans for the daughter. Not even a month later, Y/Ns’ mother died, succumbing to a mysterious illness that took her in a matter of days. It felt as though the moment she acknowledged the said “curse”, her world only came to be filled with hurt.

Being only ten years old and now orphaned, the people in the village were kind enough to take the girl in. Specifically, it was a family of three that consisted of a father and mother and a son her age who took her into their home. The boy, named Tomas, had always been a close friend of Y/N. The two would spend many days together, playing and running around in the meadows. He would pick flowers for her and in return she would do the same. There was even one early morning when the two stood by their village’s lake and shared a kiss with each other. Despite still being a child, Y/N felt as though she was feeling the love that was described in the fairytale stories her mother used to read to her.

Sadly, that love was taken from her as well. At the young age of one and three, Tomas had somehow fallen and drowned in that same lake. Y/N had never heard such a devasting scream as Edith, Tomas’s mother, held her dead son in her arms. The village was both in mourning and in query; Tomas had been taught to swim at the age of four, how could this have happened? No explanations were thought of, but Y/N had her own belief.

I’m cursed, she would toss in turn in her bed at night, I am cursed.

Two more years would pass by, and no other unfortunate incidents would have occurred. But there is always calm before the storm. One day, something within Y/N had made her go explore the small forest that was near her village. It was nothing out of the ordinary; she had done it many times before. Yet, she stayed exploring for hours before that same voice within her told her to return. Upon seeing her village within the distance, Y/N should’ve never listened to that voice. She wishes she could’ve stayed back and continue being ignorant of everything. Her village— the homes, the crops, the trees, everything, was up in flames. Running down the dirt paths, Y/N did not have time (nor did she want to) to acknowledge all slaughtered men, women, and children that laid on the grounds. A small amount of hope had sparked within her when she saw that her home was not ablaze. That hope died upon entering the residence— Y/N crying out in distress at the sight of Edith, the women she had come to see as her second mother, dead on the ground. Her sadness was turned to fear when she spotted a large man in the corner, angry and hungry for blood. Before the crazed man could run at her, he was tackled to the ground by Lance— Edith’s husband and her adopted father. He was clearly injured; covered in blood from head to toe but still had the strength in him to scream at Y/N, desperation laced in his voice, “Run girl! Run and do not look back!”. Y/N, not wanting to witness his clear end, quickly listened to his order and ran out the door, trying her best to stay out of sight of all the other savage men as she made her way out the village.

She must’ve ran for hours before she knew she was no longer in danger. A day or two of traveling passed by before she took residence in a small city. That same night, under a dirty bridge, she finally acknowledged all hell that had occurred to her within the past forty-eight hours. The dams broke as she cried and screamed out in sorrow and pain. She cried, and cried, and cried until she had no more tears to let out; now consumed by numbness. Her mother, her first love, her caretakers, her childhood friends, her home; had all been taken from her. What had she done to deserve this? With her heart broken into millions of pieces, Y/N decided that she wouldn’t live like this. Never would she fall in love and never would she form a deep connection with anyone again. She wasn’t going to let herself be tied to the Targaryen name, to its blood, nor its curse. She wasn’t going to let this curse win and see her suffer again.

And so, she did; well, she tried her best at least. With the little money she had on her, Y/N jumped from village to village, city to city, and made sure not to socialize with anyone. There were some instances of people trying to get to know her, boys trying to court her, but she wouldn’t stay very long and would be gone the next day. It was a lonely life, a life she despised but knew she had to endure. That changed a bit when she came face to face with a woman with a fair complexion and silver hair.

Daenerys Targaryen. The “Mother of Dragons”. Her older half-sister.

Daenerys had always known about her half-sister’s existence; her older brother one day rambling that the throne belongs to a true Targaryen and not the current usurper, nor the “Targaryen-bastard filth” their father left behind. At first, Y/N was wary of the girl but soon found herself becoming fond of her presence. Daenerys felt the same way; with no family left on either girl’s end, they quickly found solace in each other— treating one another as the sisters they are. It was strange at first for Y/N; getting used to now having family once again and the companionship of dragons that came with it. Initially, she was terrified at the sight of the foreign creatures but quickly came to love them and their beautiful nature. She became quite close with the one called Rhaegal, favoring the dragon over the overs. Rhaegal doted and protected the girl the same; but still recognized Daenerys as its’ rightful mother. Y/N could say she just held the title of “favorite aunt” now amongst the creatures.

The thought of the curse still weighed heavy in the back of her mind, but Y/N hypothesized that whatever superstition was out to get her would not harm her sister; a true (and last) Targaryen. Y/N immediately recognized Daenerys as her queen and vowed to help her reclaim her throne. For some time, Y/N felt happiness once again entering her life as she spent more time with her sister and her allies. That bliss, however, turned out to be false hope.

“When the time comes and I reclaim my throne, I will legitimize you as a Targaryen”, Daenerys spoke to her one night. Y/N wanted to decline right away; she was content with not having a household name and did not want to be associated with the Targaryen name. Before Y/N could speak, Daenerys looked shamefully down while holding her sister’s hand, “There is a reason why I came looking for...”. Y/N felt a chill run up her spine and quickly encouraged the Mother of Dragons to continue. “I am unable to have my own children. When the time is right, I will need you to find a man, any man of your choosing..”, Daenerys sternly said as she looked into Y/N eyes, “I will need an heir to inherit the throne and continue my family name. Do you understand sister?”. Daenerys felt guilt creep up inside her as she finally confessed her true intentions from the start of meeting Y/N. She was asking too much of Y/N but, she, however, was on a mission to reclaim her birthright no matter what. Y/N stared agape at her, no words coming from her mouth. She wanted to decline even more— but, looking into Daenerys eyes, she saw the graveness within them and the true tone behind her words. She was not asking this of her as her sister. She was commanding this of her as her queen. And Y/N would do anything for her rightful queen.

“Yes, sister. I understand”. Y/N now found herself tied to the Targaryen name. Something she vowed never to be but couldn’t escape.

As time passed by, Y/N kept her promise and stood by Daenerys side as she continued her conquest; now finding herself at Dragonstone, her sister’s ancestral home. The preparations and campaign for Daenerys claim to the Iron Throne was in full effect but was interrupted momentarily.

“The King in the North?”, Daenerys questioned one of her advisors who came bearing news. “Yes my Queen. He sent a raven— detailing that he wishes to speak with you”. Y/N, standing off to the side, expressed her thoughts and question, “I had heard that the King in the North was dead”.

“As did I”, Daenerys said sharply. The man before them nodded his head, “Yes. There was an incident that had occurred that made everyone believe he was dead. But he is very much alive”. Daenerys raised her eyebrows up, skeptical about this so called “King in the North”— “And he trusts me with the information of his false death?”

“Well, according to his letter, yes.”

Y/N and Daenerys turned, staring into each other’s eyes, speaking with them. Not much emotion was shown behind Y/N eyes, but she was able to express with them, “What harm is there in seeing what he wants”. Sighing, Daenerys nodded her head and agreed with her sister.

“Send a message back. Invite him here and let him know I agree to speak with him”.

A few days later, Y/N stood on the shores, waiting to welcome her guests on the request of Daenerys. Once she saw the boats pull up on the beach, she made her way but stopped in amazement. Out from one of the boats came a large, thick furred animal— a dire wolf. She had only ever heard about the mythical creatures and now she was in close distance with one. Dragons and now dire wolves; she held a small smile on her face at the uniqueness that was the world. Clearing their throats, the two guards behind her had snapped her out of her daydream, reminding her of the task. Standing tall, Y/N put on her best welcoming smile and stood in front of the party, “Welcome to Dragonstone. I have been sent by our rightful Queen to give our greetings”.

Y/N voice had started loud and clear, but slightly quieted down towards the end as she made eye contact with a man. A very handsome man to be exact, she thought to herself. He stood tall and strong, a lean build with dark curls and blue eyes as blue as the water behind them. He smiled at her and before he could open his mouth, the older man next to him spoke up. “I present Robb Stark. Heir to the Stark household and King of the North”. Y/N raised her eyebrows at the discovery of the handsome stranger being the King in the North. Turning to him, she held a sort of mischief but harsh attitude in her voice, “Is the King in the North unable to speak for himself?”

The men in front of her were clearly taken back. Except for Robb Stark who let out a small laugh. “Forgive me, my lady, I am very capable of speaking. I am Robb Stark”. He held out his hand and was charmed when she firmly grasped it and shook it; opting out of giving her his hand to kiss.

“I am not a lady. Please, call me Y/N”. Robb was preparing himself to compliment her name but was cut off by the same man next to him. “She’s the Targaryen bastard, your grace”. Though it was meant to be a whisper for only Robb to hear, Y/N was in close enough proximity to have heard it as well. Robb swiftly turned to his advisor next to him, giving him a crude look before turning back to the girl, “Forgive the rudeness of- “

“No, it is quite alright” she waved her hand, “It is all true anyway. I am THAT Targaryen bastard”. Robb nodded, gulping as he tried to ease the tension, “I have heard a lot about you...and your sister too, of course”. Y/N wanted to let out a chuckle at the sight before her; a gorgeous man trying his best not to insult her. “And I have heard very little about you,” Y/N voiced, “Other than the fact that you were supposedly dead, which I can see you are very much alive”, looking him up and down with her eyes. Robb smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, “It is a long story”. Y/N let out a “hmm” sound, looking off towards the side to the dire wolf. “Is he yours?”

“Yes. His name is Grey Wind. I’ve had him since he was a pup”. Y/N nodded once more, noticing just how well behaved the wolf was, “He’s very beautiful”. Robb thanked her for the compliment, grinning widely, “I can see you are fond of animals. Do you have any of your own?”

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head, “No. I have children.”

Robb was clearly taken back by her words, a stuttering mess as he questioned her statement. “O-oh? You have children?”. Y/N could sense some disappointment in his voice towards the end as it cracked. Smiling, she shook her head. “No. But I do consider them children. Just not mine. I am just an aunt”. All the guests in front of her were puzzled by her words but ducked down in fear at the sound of a roar from above. Looking up, she smiled at the sight of Rhaegal and Drogon patrolling the skies.

“Seven hells!” she heard one of Robbs’ men yell out. Turning back, she playfully spoke “My children. Beautiful, aren’t they?”. None of Robbs’ men were able to agree or speak; still in shock. Robb, still looking up to the sky, laughed earnestly, “Well, they sure are an eccentric sight to see”. Y/N smiled more at his honesty, clapping her hands together, turning and speaking to the entire party, “Well. I believe that is a sufficient way to welcome you all here. Now, I must welcome you into the castle. Please come, the Queen is curious to known what it is you wish to speak about”.

Upon greeting the Queen, Robb Starks’ words and terms were clear to her. He wishes to ally with her in her conquest to take the throne and create a fairer and just realm. “We both have a clear enemy,” he spoke, “I want the Lannisters dead for what they have done to my family, and you want them off the throne entirely”. Every so often, Robb would cast his eyes off to the side to look at Y/N; something she tried her best to hide her reddening face from. “My men, though small numbers, will be yours to use. We ask that in return, once you take your rule, you allow the North to maintain a degree of self-rule. We will recognize you as the rightful Queen, but we wish to keep the North the way it is”. Daenerys nodded her head, asking her advisors for their views on the matter, and taking Y/N by surprise when she asked her as well. “As I perceive it, the North is biggest land piece in Westeros. It would be better to keep them as allies instead of fighting them off. They recognize you as Queen, and the Stark household keeps the North in check for you, sister”. Daenerys responded with another nod, showing to be clear in thought at all the opinions given to her. The Queen stood up, still not fully convinced, but could not deny all the positives of the compromise, “Very well. I will continue to think about the matter. I will let you know that my thoughts are leaning more toward yes than it is no. For now, your men must be tired. Allow my people to escort them to rest”.

Later that night, Y/N made her way down the dark halls to the one place in the castle that brought her peace. She almost let out a small scream at the tall shadow that appeared around the corner, “My lady?”. Placing her hand to her chest to control her tachycardic heart, she saw that the dark shadow was Robb Stark. “Your grace. You almost scared me to death”, Y/N laughed, “And please, I am not a lady of noble birth. Call me by my first name”. Robb returned her laugh with his own, apologizing for scaring her. “Forgive me, my lad- Y/N. I was just curious as to why you are out so late”. She nodded her head in the direction she was originally heading in, “I can not sleep so I was heading to the library to bore myself with some reading” she joked, “Is it not late for you to be awake as well?”. Robb gave a similar answer; unable to sleep and practically full of energy. Y/N looked down at the ground for a mere second before glancing into his eyes, “Would you like to join me?”. He agreed to her invite, thankful for the darkness of the night hiding his blushed face.

Dimly lit by flickering candlelight, the shelves towered, laid with books that held centuries of knowledge and wisdom. Robb made himself comfortable at one of the chairs available while Y/N opted for the window nook. “Do you come in here often?” Robb asked. Y/n offered a silent yes, trailing her fingers against the rim of the book she had chosen, “I have not been here that long, but yes. I come here every night; I tend to have trouble sleeping”.

“Why is that?” Robb questioned.

“Nightmares”, Y/N replied. Her dreams were always filled with visions of her dead loved ones.

After a pause, Robb gave a “hmm”; silently admiring the girl for not being afraid to show vulnerability. “That’s something we both have in common” he gave a warm smile. Another quiet pause passed by until Y/N looked up at him, “You say that you being alive is a long story— can I listen to it?”. Robb gave a slight nod, standing up to sit next to her in a close but comfortable proximity.

“I was to marry the daughter of someone who I thought was my ally. I agreed initially but something within me told me not to carry out my word”. He slowly reached over for the book that was in her hands, both hands brushing slightly as he took it out of her grasp, now distracting himself with it. “The wedding still went on; I supplied another man in my place. But, there was bloodshed, and I was betrayed. I barely made it out alive, along with a few other men of mine”. Inhaling sharply, he continued with his outpour, “And I’m thankful I did. I have sources that tell me that even if I went along with the wedding, I was to be killed no matter what. The Lannisters long ago forming allies with the people I thought I could trust”. Coming close to a finish, he looked into Y/N eyes, softly smiling, “I guess it was fate that saved me somehow”.

Breaking eye contact, Y/N scoffed at his words. “Fate” she said with repugnance. Her reply caught him off guard, raising his eyebrows in surprise, “You do not believe in fate?”.

Y/N took in a long sigh, shaking her head, “No I believe in it”, she gently whispered the last part, “We just never have seen eye to eye. My fate only brings me bad luck”. Robb took in her words, trying to calculate what he should say next. “I believe fate can bring both good and bad luck”, he began with, “One can say it was my fathers’ fate to have been killed, or my sisters’ fates to be held captive”, Robb swallowed thickly before continuing, “But, it is my fate to avenge and save them. It is fate that has brought me this far; that has brought me here and to you”, he slowly spoke while staring deep into Y/N eyes. She quickly looked away, hoping her face wasn’t red and was successful in controlling her facial expression. Clearing her throat, she spoke firmly, “You must be confused; I believe you are trying to woo the wrong sister, Stark. Is it not my sister who you need as your ally?”.

Robb let out a low laugh, grinning widely, “That may be true, but”, he slowly scanned the room in a playful manner, “I believe that I don’t see your sister in here at all. So, no, I am not confused. I am speaking to the right sister”. A third pause passed by as the two continued staring, wating for one of them to speak or do something. Y/N was the first— standing abruptly, she moved her hair behind her ear and let out an awkward ahem. “I believe I must retire for the night. It was nice speaking to you Stark”. Before she could make her way out the door, he called out to her.

“It’s Robb”. Turning, she questioned what he meant. Smiling, he spoke, “You can call me Robb. You say you come here every night?”. Y/N nodded her head. “Would you allow me to see you here again tomorrow? Or even spend some time with you come morning?”.

Y/N wanted to say no. She needed to stop whatever friendship (or relationship) was forming between the two before she got too close. Before her curse got to him. He had already suffered enough. Despite the fact, deep down, her own selfish desires won over. She hadn’t felt like this in forever— she wanted this feeling to last forever.

“Yes. Of course, Robb”.

Come morning, they spent the entire day together, including the night. The next day was the same. Daenerys had granted Robb and his men a longer stay as there was much to discuss. It was late in the morning that he and Y/N were walking along the shores, discussing the most random of topics. Both were making a great effort to make the other one laugh: sprouting different jokes and funny stories. They both loved hearing the sound of laughter coming out of each another’s mouths. A gentle breeze roamed the air, blowing through Y/Ns’ dark hair. Robb stood silently still, stuck in a daze and awestruck by her appearance. Swiftly, he removed his fur cloak and placed it upon her exposed shoulders. Robb gestured to the area around them as Y/N looked at him in confusion, “I thought you might be cold”. She let out a small chuckle, shaking her head but not returning his cloak back. It provided her with a sense of ease. “No,” she confessed, “I don’t run cold that easily”. Resuming their walk, Robb gave her a look of admiration, “You would do great in the North then. Have you ever been there?”.

She answered with a clear no, stopping in her path to match Robb’s sudden cease of movement. Slowly, he placed his hands upon the cloak, further wrapping it securely around her. “I believe you would love it there. Maybe one day, you can come with me to Winterfell. I would love to give you a tour and introduce you to my mother, and hopefully my sisters too. I’m sure they would love you”. No further sounds were made; the distant sound of crashing waves serving as the only soundtrack to their wordless communion. Y/N leaned slightly into him — his closeness felt like a forbidden sanctuary, a place where she found solace and belonging but knew she shouldn’t enter. Y/N only response was a gentle nod and smile.

Many heart-fluttering moments continued to happen between the two. Stolen glances from across the table, hands brushing as they took their walks, laughter and smiles shared in the dark of night. There was an occurrence in the library when Robb had urged the girl to go to bed; taking notice of her eyebags forming from their long night of talking. “I can’t go to sleep that easily. And even if I can, I just have bad dreams I can’t wake up from”, she disclosed. They sat intimately close, sharing an intense gaze, both their features illuminated by the light of the candles in the room. Y/N could see every detail, every pore, every small scar that graced his beautiful face. She was caught by surprise, her breath hitching when he gently grabbed her hand, drawing small patterns into it.

“You can sleep here if you wish. I will watch over you and wake you at any sign of discomfort”. She wanted to decline, but there was something in his eyes that was persuading her. Y/N then found herself in his warm embrace, laying her head gently on his chest. She could hear every breath he took, every beat his heart made. Sealing her eyelids, he was the sole occupant of her dreams. She had never slept better.

Daenerys was no fool to what was happening before her very eyes. Sharing a private dinner with her sister, she brought up the topic.

“So, you and the Northern have been spending some time together”. Y/N nodded; not being able to lie since there was clear evidence in front of Daenerys. “He is a good man,” she smiled, “Very kind to his men, to his wolf”, she smiled even further at the memory of Robb introducing her properly to Grey Wind. She could still hear his laughter and the concern that replaced it when Grey Wind had tackled her to the ground with wet kisses. “We don’t want to get that pretty face all slobbered up now, do we?” fondness had colored his expression as he helped her back up. The smile upon her face slipped away, a frown and more serious look taking over.

“He’s very kind to me…I don’t think I will be spending much time with him anymore though”, she held her fork tightly in her hand. Daenerys questioned what she meant by her words. “Personal reasons”, Y/N said in a somber tone, “He will be leaving soon, and I plan to stay by your side”. Daenerys nodded her head, a part of her knowing that Y/Ns’ excuse was not the full truth. It’s not an exaggeration— Daenerys wasn’t a fool. She was well aware of Y/N’s standoffish attitude; practically a hermit as she kept to herself, or Daenerys. She saw the reasoning behind it— having an understanding of her past hardships. Additionally, Daenerys once tried to comfort Y/N during a nightmare of hers, hearing the word “curse” coming out of her mouth every few seconds. She badly wanted to comfort her sister, let her know that she was not cursed— life was just not fair to everyone. Daenerys, however, said nothing. Y/N was the only family she had left, and she did not want to lose her so soon, especially to some man. Forcing a smile upon her face, Daenerys tried to hide the distaste she felt towards her own selfishness. “That is good. Family must stick together”.

As the hours slipped away, Y/N and Robb were spending their last night together in the library. Robb and his men were set to leave tomorrow— all discussions and plans made with Daenerys were finalized. Robb, sitting across the room, was enamored as Y/N read to him out loud. It was a couple nights ago that they created this little routine; Y/N would read to him, and he would give his input at certain scenes. Right now, however, he was not paying attention to what was happening in the story. He was trying to memorize her gentle sweet voice, the way her lips moved with each syllable she said. Finishing a passage, Y/N put the book down to ask Robb his view.

“I can not lie to you. I was not paying attention”. Mouth agape, she pretended to be upset, throwing the small pillow she had next to her. Robb caught the cushion, letting out a hearty laugh that rumbled deep within his chest. Standing up, he walked across the room to her, placing the pillow behind her back. He knew she liked to read in comfort. Y/Ns’ smile was warm, spreading even more across her face at the words Robb spoke next, “You have a pretty voice”. Shyly looking down, she quietly thanked him. Robb’s compliments towards her only continued, “And a beautiful face”.

Biting her lip, she was readying herself to change the topic, but he only continued more. “I remember when I saw you for the first time”, he sat down beside her, sharing body warmth now, “I truly thought I had never seen a more beautiful woman before in my life”. Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes softly and replying in a joking matter “And then you saw my sister and I was the second most beautiful woman you had seen in your life”. Her heart quickened up when she looked up at him, no humor present on his face, only showing seriousness. “No”, he whispered, “you were still the most captivating and breathtaking beauty I’d seen”. Silence filled the room. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers interlacing with hers. “I leave tomorrow”, he spoke of the one thing they both had refused to acknowledge. “That you are”, Y/N said, her main focus placed upon their hands. Drawing small comforting circles into her skin, he asked her what she had planned for her future.

“My future is a mystery”, Y/N sighed heavily, “Regardless, I will continue to stand by Daenerys and be with her when she retakes the throne. She told me that she was going to bestow the Targaryen name upon me, but I’m not sure that is what I want”. Confusion etched Robbs’ features, questioning her meaning. Her face gave away a gloomy look, “I have never really been fond of my Targaryen blood. Daenerys is the only good thing that has come out of it”, she said truthfully, “I’ve gone long enough without a household name, so I don’t see the point in having one”. A smile graced her lips as she looked at him, “I won’t lie, it is a small yearn of mine. To belong somewhere and become a part of something special”.

A pregnant pause filled the room. The only sound being heard was the burning of the fireplace. Y/Ns’ laughter echoed through the room; Robbs’ next statement finding humor within her.

“You can become a Stark”.

Shaking her head, almost wanting to wipe the imaginary tears in her eyes, she continued her fits of giggles. “And how can I do that- “

Robbs’ next sentence caused all laughter within her to cease, her breath getting stuck in her chest. “By marrying me”, he said.

Another pregnant pause. Y/N stared at him in shock, becoming a stuttering mess, “R-Robb, I…”. Before she could finish, he cut her off, taking both her hands into his now, “I plead that you allow me to speak first”, he smiled but looked ready to cry, “I have never felt the way I have when I am with you. You truly have stolen my heart, and I don’t plan on asking for it back. Come with me to Winterfell— become my wife, my queen”. With affection, he raised her hand and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on it, “Grant me the wish to spend the rest of my life with you”. Robb had poured his emotions out into his speech, mistakenly only imagining what he wanted her reply to be. He was not prepared for what Y/N said next.

“No.”

Furrowing his eyes, he dropped one of her hands but still held the other. Shaking his head, he began to apologize profoundly, “I-I’m sorry. I thought maybe there was something between us. Did I ask too soon?”, he looked desperate in front of her, “I can take back the proposal. I can court you properly if that is what you wish – “

“No. No, Robb”, Y/N let her hand drop from his, both now becoming colder by the second, “I can’t marry you”.

The tension crackled in the air as Y/N words hung between them, heavy and unresolved. The room felt suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. Robb’s jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the ground, struggling to contain his emotions and appear unaffected, “Can I ask why?”. Y/N bit her lip, her own emotions consuming her, never wanting more than to cry. “Robb,” she sobbed, “marrying me— being with me would only bring you hell”. Shaking his head, Robb grabbed ahold of her face, staring into her eyes, “What nonsense do you speak of? That can be far from the truth”. Y/N wanted to push his hands off her but was brought warmth by his touch, “But it’s the truth. My presence alone carries a curse. All those I have cherished have been harmed and taken from me”, he delicately removed the tears that were dropping from her eyes, “I’m not supposed to fall in love with you”.

Robb didn’t know what to say, how exactly to comfort her. His only reply being, “there is no such thing as a curse”, which angered her to some extent. Standing abruptly, she screamed out in sorrow, “Yes there is! My mother, my first love, my home— everyone suffered because of me!”, she started hyperventilating, burying her face in her hands, sobs echoing through the room, “You have suffered enough Robb. I do not wish to cause you more misery”. Robb sprang up quickly and encircled her with an arm, drawing her in for a reassuring embrace. As she cried, he felt her body quiver against his chest. He rubbed her back in gentle circles, giving her a feeling of comfort and safety. “Shhh…”, he tried soothing her, “Even if there is a curse, I won’t let it get to me, or you. I will protect you with entire life; you will never be subjected to such pain”, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her head, “I can’t let you go— living out the rest of my life thinking “what if?”.

Shaking her head, she gently pushed him away, “No, Robb”. Y/N stared at him, her eyes reflecting her inner sadness, “This is for my protection and yours. I would not have the strength in me to live if something happened to you”. Walking swiftly towards the door, she ceased her movements when Robb called out to her.

“Y/N. You deserve better”, he spoke truthfully and with sorrow, “You can’t live like this. Someone as extraordinary as you deserves to be happy. To be loved”.

She gripped the door handle, almost hurting her own hand from the pressure. Turning her head, she offered him a pained smile, “Maybe you’re right”, she opened the door, “But such fine things were not made for me in this lifetime”. And she was gone.

Y/N was unable to sleep the rest of the night, tossing and turning in her bed. Come morning, she mentally prepared herself for a conversation she knew she had to make. Standing in front of the chamber rooms Robb occupied, she knocked. A few seconds later, he opened the door, clear surprise on his face at her presence.

“Hi”, she spoke softly. Robb did not verbally reply to her greeting; opting to nod to her instead. “May I come in?”, she asked, and Robb moved to the side to allow her to enter. Looking at him, his tunic was unlaced— a clear indication she had interrupted him in the middle of dressing up. Y/N was informed that Robb and his men were to leave early morning; all they had to do was suit up and prepare their ships, and then he would be gone.

Facing him entirely, she gestured to his packed supplies in the corner, “I came to wish you a safe journey. I enjoyed our time together”. Robb registered her words, taking a deep breath, “Thank you, my lady”. She didn’t have the strength to correct him. All the while, Robb was struggling to tie up the last laces of his tunic. His hands were shaking. Walking slowly to him, she reached for his hands, moving them away to replace them with hers, “Allow me”. Robb felt a fire ignite inside him as her gentle touch sent a chill down his spine. Focused on her work, Y/N laced up the complex pattern, her breath quickening as her fingertips touched his bare chest. Finishing up the last lace, she patted his chest and smiled up at him, “There. All done”. She only took one step back before Robb wrapped his arm around her waist, pushing her back to him. Y/N gaze softened, a silent acknowledgement passing between them. Slowly and hesitantly, she placed her hand upon his cheek, caressing him. Stretching her neck, she placed a small kiss on his lips, pulling away in mere seconds before either of them could comprehend it. Robb did the same; the two now sharing their second kiss.

For a while, they stood in each other’s embrace in silence. Robb took the next step, closing the small distance and cupping her face in his hands. With a mixture of yearning and desire, she leaned into his touch, gazing up at him as her heart ached. Reaching down, he kissed her with longing and tenderness. Y/N reciprocated right away, moving her mouth with his to match his rhythm. This kiss was longer, both wanting to savor the moment a bit more. The kiss had started off slowly but quickly came alive as they both deepened it. Robb fingers wove into her hair, pulling her closer to him; despite being as physically close as possible. Y/Ns’ body felt on fire; Robb’s touch both gentle yet firm as he traced her body with his other hand. Gasping into his mouth, she was taken by surprise (but did not fight off) at Robb picking her up by the thighs— walking to the small table in his room and dropping her on it. Opening her legs widely, he stood between them, both breathing heavily as they’re lips continued pressing together. Y/N did not know what to do with her hands, moving them all across his body and landing upon his hair, tugging slightly at his roots. Robb was the same; still opting to trace his hands across her thighs and up her breasts— igniting a moan out of her moth that he swallowed with his. Both their lips parted slightly, allowing them to slip their tongues into each other’s.

The room was heating up by the second. The only sounds that could be heard were their muffled groans and heavy breathing. Parting away, Y/N went to work to unlace his tunic— undoing her work. There was some urgency in the way her hands moved, Robb staring at her, intoxicated by her face contoured in rapture. He went straight for her dress, moving the fabric down to expose her shoulders, planting kisses on her. Y/N let out a loud whimper; the feeling of Robb biting into her neck sending a jolt of pleasure and goosebumps over her body. Grabbing his jaw, she returned her attack on his lips; their kiss now getting sloppier by the second, teeth almost clashing against. Y/N was readying herself to further pull her dress down but was interfered by Robb pulling away. Almost desperate like, she chased his lips but was denied.

“No,” Robb spoke, almost sounding to be in pain. His breath was ragged, chest moving up and down and fist clenched to his side, “Not like this”. Y/Ns’ common sense returned, slightly embarrassed that her hunger for him had taken over her completely. She was thankful that Robb had the strength and respect to keep her virtue safe. A few moments passed and their breathing became stable once again. Y/N watched as Robb gazed down at her, his lips red and bruised. Taking a hold of her face in his hand, Robb placed his forehead against her, “I love you”. Y/N could do nothing but nod, wrapping her arms around his torso, “I know”.

He smiled sheepishly at her, caressing her cheek, “Write to me at least. Please. Write to me about anything…even if you have nothing to talk about. I will always send a reply back. I promise”. She gave him a tight-lipped smile, kissing his hand lightly, “I’ll try”. Robb knew she was lying. As they held each other’s gaze, time appeared to stop and the outside world became less significant. With one last kiss to her temple, Robb picked up his belongings and went out the door.

Y/N waited a decent number of minutes to pass before she exited the room— making sure there were no prying eyes around. She was hurrying towards her own chambers; wanting to be alone and allowed let all her tears fall free. She didn’t make it far, stopping in her movements at the sound of someone calling her name.

“Y/N”, Daenerys called out at the end of the hallway. Approaching her, she offered her sister a happy smile, “I was looking all over for you. I came to see if you wanted to bid the North men a goodbye- “, Daenerys stopped talking momentarily. Her eyes taking in Y/N disheveled appearance, and the obvious love mark on her neck. “But I can see you must’ve already given your farewell to the King in the North”, she teased.

Y/N nodding, staring down at the ground with her hands picking at the skin around her nails, “Yes, I have. So, I have no need to bid them a further goodbye. If you excuse me, I will retire for the day”. She was barley able to turn her body around before Daenerys grabbed hold of her forearm. “Hold on”, Daenerys said letting out a low chuckle, “It is still early morning. Why would you retire so soon- “. Her amusement dwindled into silence, fully grasping the emotions displayed on her little sisters’ face. “What’s wrong? What happened?”, she inquired anxiously and hastily, “Did that Stark boy do something to you?”, now anger appearing in her voice. Y/N was quick to deny her accusations, “No. He did nothing. It’s what I’ve done to him”. The queen placed a comforting embrace around her sisters’ figure, soothing her hair. “He offered me a marriage proposal, Dany” she sobbed into her shoulders, “And I told him no. I broke his heart”. Daenerys said nothing to the information given to her. A short interval of silence ensured; disrupted by Daenerys taking in a deep breath.

“Do you love him?”.

She hadn’t expected such a direct question from Daenerys, especially about something she had been trying to conceal. Y/N hesitated for a moment— deciding there was no use in denying it, “I do”.

The older sister pulled away, smiling down lovingly at her, “Then why not go be with him?”. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, stumbling over her words, “Because I promised to stick by your side. To help you,” she defended. Staring back at the floor, Y/N inhaled deeply, “Because I am cursed- “

“That is a load of shit”, Daenerys cut in. Y/N gaped at her older sister in disbelief for her vulgar language directed at her. Daenerys persisted with her speech, “You are not cursed, Y/N. Our history might show that our ancestors without the inherited Targaryen traits suffered greatly, but that does not mean all of them will”. Putting both hands on her shoulder, she reassured Y/N, “I know that in their lives they were still able to experience contentment and love. And you should too”.

Whispering softly, Daenerys hold on her sister tightened, “You've gone through a lot, and life has made it difficult to look past your own suffering, I won't deny that. But you need not forget the positive impact that you have on others around you. You undoubtedly brought happiness and love into the lives of your mother as well as those from your pas, and me toot. I'm even more positive that you introduced that into Robb Starks' life as well”.

Daenerys took a moment to recover after her extended address; watching Y/N register every world she spoke. Placing a gentle hand on her face, Daenerys gave her final say, “So, why not go be with him?”.

Y/N expression mirrored her surprise at what she heard. Shaking her head, she repudiated, “B-But what about you? My promise to you- “. She was cut off once again. “I’ve been thinking it over”, Daenerys began, “And I’ve asked too much from you. You are my only family and I wish to keep you by me, but your life is not mine. You control it”. Y/N held her breath, a small tear forming in her eyes. A sense of déjà vu had come to her— those were similar words her own mother had told her. Daenerys smiled widely at her, taking both her hands into her own, “If I am to be a good queen and rule with fairness”, she gave her hand a gentle squeeze, “I should let you live your life. As your queen, I give you the order to go live a life of happiness with the man you love”. She sustained the cheerful curve of her lips, “Go to him— go be with him in the North. A change of scenery can be good, don’t you think?”.

Y/N didn’t answer her question; instead, she sprang and encircled her sister in a warm hug. “Thank you, Dany,”, she expressed her heartfelt thanks. Daenerys words had opened her eyes; Y/N was not brought into this world to fear it— she was brought in it to appreciate its gifts. The gifts being family, happiness, and love. Daenerys suppressed a laugh that wanted to escape her lips. Pushing the girl slightly, she encouraged her further, “Now go and tell him. Rhaegal will be sad but he’ll live”. Y/N was quick to turn and follow after Robb, but stopped abruptly at Daenerys calling out to her.

“Don’t marry him too soon”. Panic coiled in the pit of her stomach at the thought that Daenerys was taking back what she said. The older sister waved her hand, shooing the girl away, “I just meant that I wish to be present at the wedding. Now, go”.

Robb stood beside a couple of his men and advisor at Dragonstone’s port. He watched his men load up the ships, trying to listen to what his advisor was saying but his mind was elsewhere. He came here to acquire the Dragon Queen as his ally— and now he leaves with that success and a broken heart. He traced back the memory of their times together, the warmth of her hands completely enclosing his, the way her eyes sparkled with every grin. A longing buried deep in his chest arose with every thought of Y/N. It was a bittersweet anguish. His advisor next to him cleared his throat, grabbing his attention when he nudged Robbs’ side, “Your grace”. Following the direction of his advisor’s eyesight, his own landed on Y/N— clearly out of breath and showing urgency.

“Y/N”, he called out. Robb was quick to grab ahold of her forearms, inspecting her body for any signs of injury, “Are you okay? Is there something wrong?” he asked, concern shown deep in his eyes. Y/N nodded her head, calming down her breathing as she watched his men leave to give them privacy. Staring up at him, she confessed, “I will not write to you”. Robbs’ brows drew together in a frown, feeling as though she was taking a jab at his sorrows. A normal reaction would be to spit fire back, but he was too in love with her.

Swallowing thickly, he responded, “I figured that already- “

“No, let me finish” she interrupted him, “I will not write to you…because I am coming with you”. His eyes widened in disbelief at the statement— not given time to properly respond once again. Swallowing the lump in her throat, her palms grw clammy, “Robb…I love you”. At last, he managed to respond, "You do?" with a tone that hinted at both surprise and joy. Y/N nodded, vulnerability showing in the blush of her cheeks and grabbing a hold of his hand, “Yes. I should’ve told you from the start and I should’ve said yes to your proposal- “, she sucked in a trembling breath, “I care about you deeply and I’ve never felt this much love for anyone”. Y/Ns’ heart raced as her words lingered in the crisp morning air. With a subtle shake of her head, she redirected the conversation. “Though I’ve come to see the foolishness in it; I still don’t know if my curse is real or not. All I know is that I wish to spend every minute— every second of my life with you”. Biting her lip gently, she broke eye contact with him, “It is a big risk, I kno- “.

“A risk I am willing to take”, Robb finally cut her off, “I would do anything for you.” In their moment of confession, they wrapped each other in a tight embrace. With their foreheads resting against each other's, a warm yet hesitant smile spread across Y/N face. “So,” she spoke shyly, “is that tour of Winterfell still up for grabs?”

Robb reciprocated her smile with his own, gently lifting his hands to touch her bottom lip. “Yes. It still is” he breathed out, “And my proposal too”. With a gentle tilt of her head, Y/N moved in closer, “Then I say you take me to Winterfell and make me your wife”. Their lips meet in a tender and heartfelt kiss— all their troubles now resolved. A quiet vow of eternity was spoken as their lips moved in rhythm. A familiar roar was heard; Y/N breaking the kiss and laughing as she took notice of Rhaegal in the sky. Robb found himself smiling even more at the sight of her joy; pulling her closer to him.

A cheeky grin formed across her face, “I think Lady of Winterfell has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”

Robb chuckled, caressing her face, “I think Queen of Winterfell sounds nicer. I also think the title of “Robb Starks’ Wife” suits you even more”. Y/N jokingly jabbed her elbow into his side, slightly squeaking as Robb reclaimed her lips in his. They both were filled with excitement and anticipation for what their future together awaited.

#robb stark #game of thrones #robb stark fanfic #robb stark x reader #robb stark x y/n #robb stark x you #robb stark oneshot #richard madden #robb stark imagine #got x reader #got scenario #got imagines #asoiaf #robb stark x targaryen!reader #robb stark x fem!reader

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howyouloveyourdragon · 11 months

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threesome with margaery and robb please please i BEG

Taking Charge

pairing: margaery tyrell x reader x robb stark alternate universe: Margaery allies with Stark instead of Lannister, Robb survives (no necrophilia here thank you babes) pronouns: she/her anatomy: afab warnings: power dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, brief discussion of trauma (the red wedding) kinks & positions: threesome, dom/sub dynamics, brat taming, light bdsm, being gagged, oral (reader receiving), riding, masturbation, face riding, orgasm denial, fingering dividers by: saradika wordcount: 3,388

A/N: only the best for you ma'am, you told me i could go feral and i always deliver >:) i really hope you enjoy this bby! ♡ also margaery lowkey acts as a medieval marriage counsellor but we'll touch on that later ☠️

Margaery Tyrell is beautiful. You know it. Your husband knows it and the gaggle of raucous men know it as she flits her eyes over Robb. Her lips move but you are too entranced to doubt her words. You hear Robb gulp beside you and your own breath hitches as her shoulders roll back, a lithe hand exposes her neck by sweeping her hair behind her. She smirks as she curtsies--slow and deep. "Thank you, your grace for understanding my position." "Of course." Robb's voice utters but you can hear a familiar gruffness. He glances at two of his men as he gestures for two of them to lead her to a spare tent. You let a gentle hand rest on his forearm. "You need not," You tell the men, ignoring when your husband snaps his sights back to you. You smile pleasingly at Margaery. "We will find somewhere together, it has been a long time since I entertained guests." She returns your grin with the hint of surprise in her crystal eyes. The flicker across your form and her parted lips close. "Perhaps I should be entertaining you, my Queen." You feel as Robb tenses and squeeze gently. You merely hum to Margaery and begin to glide toward her but your husband snatches your arm quickly and tugs you back. His eyes stare deeply into yours as he guides a hand to cup your face, an intensity as he draws closer--prolonging each movement. He connects your lips effortlessly and drinks in the gentle gasp when his tongue treads along the seam of them. Your eyes flutter like the flap of a butterfly's wings until they shut closed. His fingers twist the hair at the back of your head and tugs just enough to let him drink in your soft whine. You don't have the chance to see as Robb's sights turn hard and warning as they lock with Margaery's. Her smirk only deepens.

Eventually you gather the inner strength to pull away with a wet smack and stumble back. As your eyelids slip open his darkening stare greets you, a quick tilt of his head permitting you to step away. His gaze stays locked on you as you leave, linking your arm with the new woman's. "He is rather protective of you." She notes as you walk throughout the camp. You hum in agreement and nod softly. "There was an incident a number of moons ago where he was supposed to marry one of the Frey daughters, we supplemented another man in his place but..." You pause, discomfort crossing your skin like a spider's thick web. Margaerys collects your free hand in the bed of her own hand and squeezes gently. It gives you the courage to continue. "The matter was not resolved. There was bloodshed and we lost a babe but we escaped and so..." Margaery steps in front of you, now holding both your hands. Your breath stutters but still you paint a sad smile across your lips. "I understand." She assures with a gentle smile. She wishes to reassure you. Two of her fingers rise to lift your chin to encourage you looking up into her eyes. "I would feel the same if I had a petal such as yourself. I would take my vows of protection over you just as carefully. And I would take those vows." Her voice purrs like a kitten curled in your lap, like it is a soft tail wrapping itself around your forearm instead of her hand.

The days pass with your forms close at every turn and under your husband’s watchful eye. Your nightly activities increase, a deeper need clawing up Robb’s chest. Tonight, you writhe in the sheets with Robb's pants fanning over your neck as his fingers bury deep within your core. He moans at the wet stickiness, letting it drip down his hand. You feel it growing–the wave about to crash–swirling deeper and deeper. It’s like a whirlpool that you are begging to let swallow you down. You want it, you need it and then–Then Robb retracts stops. “Say it,” His unusually gruff voice murmurs in your ear, ignoring your flailing legs. You try to grind back and forth but his spare hand pushes your hips down in warning. He leans up to your ear. “Say it.” He demands once more, rougher. “I love you.” You concede easily, gentle whimpers pouring out. His fingers roll fluidly again and the waves return. “Again.” “I love you.” The water spins you, an overwhelming heat distorts your sight. “Again.” “I love you.” And finally he lets the dam break inside you. Your heat gushes over his hand. His mouth drops down onto yours with a resounding kiss. His lips move sloppily but demandingly. He grumbles as he turns to lay his back on the bed and sling and arm around your own. “So good for me.” He rumbles. “My best girl, hm?” You mumble in approval while he moves to kiss your cheek before standing. Your whines return as he begins to leave you, presumably to visit the tent of your living quarters. Not for the first time you are grateful your husband is given special privileges but detest the sight of his back. He chuckles low. “A moment, my love.” He leaves, presumably to find a cloth and water. Your slick glistens down your rear.

Minutes pass, possibly twenty, possibly thirty but either way you are unsatisfied with your missing husband. You rise on shaky legs, bare all except a silk robe. Your feet lead you to the connecting tent, surprised at the closed sheets of it. Your breath hitches as you step toward the dark tent, your fingers about to part the sheets but two familiar voices interrupt the movement. “I heard you of course…” A Tyrell voice tuts and your eyes go wide. Surely she does not mean… “Denying your wife? I thought Starks were honourable.” A deep blush treads up your face with the wisps of wind. You shiver as the cold air creeps through your dress, hardening the pebbles beneath. You peek through the curtain and instantly clasp a hand over your mouth at the sight of your husband stiffened, the woman opposite trailing her fingers up his tunic. He snatches her wrist quickly and squeezes it harshly. You can hear her breath hitch. “What are you doing, Lady Tyrell?” Robb snarls to which she merely chuckles. She steps onto her tiptoes and leans into his ear. “I am going to teach you how to please your wife, how to please your Queen, how to…worship her.” She purrs the words like a playful kitten. His grip loosens enough for the highborn lady to grow bold and raise her other hand to his shoulder. He is silent as his eyes track her palm. It is almost soothing, the circles she rubs against the loose fabric. The wolf King clears his throat before he speaks. “How?” You would pity his vulnerable tone if it didn’t charge the throb of your pearl, if the pebbles of your breasts were not growing more sensitive with every word that flowed through your ears.

You almost gasp when you see her unravel two snakes of rope from beneath her skirt, letting it feed through her fingers as she pushes Robb down into a wooden chair though you are both aware it could not truly hold him unless he demanded his own body to still. Her hands glide down his arms, thick with muscle, her nails play with the top threads of his linen undershirt. The rose unlaces the ties of his shirt slowly, torturing. Your eyes hook their gaze to her fingers, mouth going dry at their graceful movements. She is a lot more experienced than she let on but it does not upset you...in fact it rather does the opposite, your pearl beginning to throb again. He watches her, eyes tracking her every motion. “Well first you are going to have to calm yourself. I would hate for her to join us too early, before we even have you prepared for her. You cannot see her face but you can imagine her serene smile. Her hands glide across his chest and push him down into a waiting chair. The bridge of rope between her hands follows down to slither between his legs. He grunts at the contact, his member still heavy from the activities before. He bites his lip. Margaery chuckles as she sinks to her knees and begins to bind his forearm to the wooden chair. “Do not worry, my King, we will fix that in a moment.” Your eyes widen and drink in the sight, watching as she binds his other arm as well. You gulp as she straddles his lap.

“Oh such a good boy…” Margaery coos, running her hand into the northerner’s hair and then gripping the curls tight. Having a King bound to a chair before you–inside a tent or not–is a rather quick way to encourage your confidence. For it to drip through your veins and pump the blood raucously. She smirks down at him as he groans. His eyes are as fierce as the wolf he is. “I almost feel guilty for playing with you but if you want to be a King, you will have to earn that right.” She licks her lips and dips a hand between her breasts. The King gasps, matching you simultaneously but then she pulls out a grey fabric and brings it to hover before his mouth. His eyes snap up to hers. “You must trust my practice, King Stark.” He growls but begrudgingly parts his lips enough to bare his wolfish teeth. Her giggling attracts your ears as she slides the gag in his mouth. She raises a single hand in the air and beckons you close. You freeze. “Come, my Queen.” Her free hand runs along his jaw then hardens it, pulling him closer with an intensity you didn’t expect. “He’s pretty isn’t he, dearest?” You merely nod, looking at your husband as the Tyrell tugs at him. Her eyes flit over to you as she smirks. “This is not the first time you have both played this game, is it?” Her grin deepens when your reluctant nod pleases her. Robb bites his lip, trying to hold back the moan. “I was wondering why you do not mind me playing with him but now I see…You enjoy it. Seeing someone else in power for once, taking him…” She slowly tilts her head. “Would you like to tame him? The big bad wolf? You will need to find your voice, pet.” A tentative step forward is all she needs to see to broaden her wicked grin. She slaps Robb’s cheek sharply and climbs off his lap. “There’s a smart girl.” Her hands reach you while her face squeals in girlish delight—a sight you are not used to.

“We are going to have so much fun.” She purrs and releases one of your hands to stroke her index along a lock of your hair. Her eyes darken with a sea of lust pushing desperately against a restraining barrier. She brushes back your hair and leans closer until her breath is fanning across your lips. “And so we have acquired another player.” The sea crashes—taking your kiss with it—as she presses her lips to yours and drowns in it. Margaery Tyrell is a woman of many talents and one of those talents is knowing exactly what she wants but more importantly how to get it. A gasp slips from your mouth to hers as her fingers trail up your thigh. She slowly lowers herself until she has to pan her head to look at you. Her eyes stay misty. “I’ve always wanted to taste a Queen.” With the flick of her tongue, she pushes you back to lie on the table and spreads your legs with ease, rustling the wretched grey fabric. “Always so modest.” She tuts as she dives her face beneath and skips her tongue along your inner thigh. A rumble burns at your throat, your eyes squeeze as tight as your fists in anticipation. “So sweet,” Margaery commends before darting her muscle across your hidden pearl, wetting the fabric above. “Yes, I think I would like to join you on that throne of yours, we are going to have a lot of fun, sweet blossom.” Her hands turn commanding. “Oh such a good boy…”

“We are going to have so much fun.” She purrs and releases one of your hands to stroke her index along a lock of your hair. Her eyes darken with a sea of lust pushing desperately against a restraining barrier. She brushes back your hair and leans closer until her breath is fanning across your lips. “And so we have acquired another player.” The sea crashes—taking your kiss with it—as she presses her lips to yours and drowns in it. Margaery Tyrell is a woman of many talents and one of those talents is knowing exactly what she wants but more importantly how to get it. A gasp slips from your mouth to hers as her fingers trail up your thigh. She slowly lowers herself until she has to pan her head to look at you. Her eyes stay misty. “I’ve always wanted to taste a Queen.” With the flick of her tongue, she pushes you back to lie on the table and spreads your legs with ease, rustling the wretched grey fabric of your robe. “Always so modest, hm? Don’t worry, we’ll fix that.” She tuts as she dives her face beneath and skips her tongue along your inner thigh.

A rumble burns at your throat, your eyes squeeze as tight as your fists in anticipation. “So sweet,” Margaery commends before darting her muscle across your hidden pearl, wetting the fabric above. “Yes, I think I would like to join you on that throne of yours, we are going to have a lot of fun, sweet blossom.” Her hands turn demanding, her nails sinking into your thighs. A yelp rebounds from your lips in time with a distant growl. You sit upright on shaky elbows to let your heavy-lidded eyes gaze upon your needy husband, a dribble of saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth, gag wet. Perhaps fabric is not a desired material. She rolls an ‘r’ along your bud, delighting in your sharp intake of breath. Robb rumbles once more. Margaery sighs. “You can either behave or wait even longer. I will bring your wife to her peak once more for every sound that comes from your lips but you will receive nothing until you have learned to prioritise your beloved.” Her voice is muffled but resounding. She commands him as well as she would command a disobedient mutt. Her tongue licks up your residue. “If you were my wife, I would drink from you every waking moment and if I were your King, I would keep my face tucked between your thighs. Escaping my lips would be your hardest battle.” Margaery moans. Robb growls at the rose’s words but the soothing strokes of her tongue please you.

She pulls back, smirking at the whines that drip from your mouth. “And so needy too.” She chuckles as she pulls away, her curls tickling up your thigh. You jump in sensitivity but it all makes her coo like caressing a flightless bird. “Aw, sweet darling. Need us to take care of you, huh? Is he not taking care of you? Poor thing…We’ll just have to take care of you, ourselves.” A deep growl permeates from your husband, his arms straining against his ties but as your eyes linger on his form, his cock looks aching as it strains through his trousers, the tip of it wetting the fabric. The poor man must be absolutely throbbing and yet that doesn’t make you pity him, it only entices you. Margaery raises a finger to rub pressured circles on your bud. She chuckles when you hiss and your elbows collapse you to lie back on the table again. The image of your husband’s hungry face lingers in your mind but it’s Margaery’s hair that you move to grasp between your fingers. Your hips grind as her tongue returns to lap at you. “That’s it,” You encourage, delighting in the wet noise.And then it comes again, the sensitivity crashing over your cunt. Your eyes shut tight and your face scrunches up as a long pitiful whine pushes past your lips. The whimper of the Stark King only sends another wave to flow onto Margaery’s tongue who doesn’t lessen her pace until she can swallow down every drop.

Your body falls imp, sprawled out. Your legs tremble as they hang off the side of the table but finally Margaery’s greed softens and she pulls back. Your glistening wetness still coats her lips as they grin up at you. Her hands slither up your body, starting at your thighs until they settle on your waist. She squeezes gently before spreading them. You hiss briefly but are quickly hushed when she kisses up your neck in soothing patterns. “I will not mark you yet.” She whispers in purring vibration. “But if you ever tire of wolves, I will be but a moment away.” She kisses the space behind your ear. A tempting little rose she is as she pulls away, cupping your hands as she tugs you to stand on your shaky legs. She tuts. “So used today, don’t worry, it’s your turn.” The scent of her hair wafts thickly up your nose, clouding your other senses as she pulls you, one arm now around your waist. When you finally look up from the floor, you see Robb’s piercing eyes waiting for you with the patience of a wild boar. She slowly winds your legs so you can straddle your husband who quickly nuzzles against your neck. Margaery delights as she wraps around you from behind, kissing up your opposing shoulder as her hands help yours to slip down Robb’s smallclothes. However, it is you who raises your fingers to tear open the offending fabric on your husband’s chest and who rips the gag away to replace it with your lips. He grunts and ruts his hips. His member throbs, the top purple and preening for attention. You can almost feel it begging. Margaery’s warm palms roll your hips, grinding you against it but you do not complain. His lips are wet with saliva and sweat but it doesn’t deter you, letting the salt flit across your tongue.

Margaery praises you as you gather the strength to slide onto his length, gasping out as it fills you for the first time in a week. He groans loudly, eyes already rolling back, it’s the final straw for him to snap off the ropes and capture your hips while you sink onto him. When you finally drop onto him, your arms hook around his neck. “Be good for me, that’s it,” You encourage as he whimpers like a pup. Margaery beams with pride as she brings her fingers to roll your nipples back and forth. “Tell her how much you want it.” Margaery prompts, voice growing gravelled. “That you want her, that you want to fill that sweet little pussy, hm?” Robb nods, and thrusts hard into you, a yelp streaming from your lips. “I want you.” He moans, hot breath panting as his grip tightens. “Want you more than I’ve wanted anything. Iw ould give up my crown and my line for you.” A high pitched noise escapes you as your hips rock faster back and forth. “Want to keep you full of me. You want that? You want me to keep you full?” Your nods are all he needs to finally let loose and spill, you tighten as Margaery flicks the pebbles of your breasts. You throw your head back but the rose of Highgarden is quick to rake one hand into your hair and tug you to face her. “That’s right, my queen. Release for us.” And you do, your womanhood spasming as a thick cream rings around your husband’s who sighs breathily and kisses up your neck. A line of wetness slides up as your companion chuckles low.

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eviesaurusrex · 2 years

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“ʟᴀᴅʏ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴋ.” | ʀ. ꜱᴛᴀʀᴋ

Not my GIFs!

Robb Stark x Tyrell!Reader

summary: A request for something fluff with Robb Stark!

word counts: 1.8k

warnings: kind of protective!Robb, fluff, more fluff, first-time pregnancy, a bit of angst, but really just a hint

author’s note: I’m really happy about my first request (and work) for Robb because he was my first GoT love :D But I’m not really happy with how this one turned out, so I am really sorry. The next one hopefully will get better! Edit: I just saw that tumblr messed up with my writing, so I edited it!

The puffing breaths of the black horse condensated in the cold air around her, the sound of heavy hooves sinking into the soft ground of the forest floor was the only sound echoing through the tall-growing trees around Winterfell. It was always peaceful out here, which was such a stark contrast to the busyness within the walls of the castle that YN loved to escape from time to time. She loved her life up here, as Lady of Winterfell, far from her former home where she was as useless as a pretty bush of roses.

Growing up in Highgarden, down in the Reach, had been pleasant but never fulfilling. As the eldest daughter of Lord Mace Tyrell and younger sister to Willas Tyrell, her father’s heir, she had nothing else to do but marry an old, lazy lord and continue and secure his unsuccessful lineage. Her father never had a high aim for his eldest daughter, even though her grandmother Olenna always had a greater future planned for the Golden Rose of Highgarden—in her grandmother’s eyes, she had been the perfect match for a king or prince. Olenna never wanted to waste her precious granddaughter to a low lord as her imbecile of a son had in mind. Instead, the Queen of Thorns had managed to secure an alliance with the North, and the match had been, luckily, a love match. It had taken time, but the instant sympathy and attraction from both had been a reliable support for a blossoming romance.

It certainly had helped that YN was quite fond of the winter and cold.

The sudden sound of heavy paws ripped the woman back into reality, and turning in her saddle, her eyes almost immediately spotted the dark grey dire wolf prowling through the forest, his bright eyes trained on her. Smiling, YN whistled softly, and Grey Wind trotted over the small path and sided with her on their slow way back to the castle.

Riding through the gates, the Lady of Winterfell was greeted with respectfully bowed heads by the guards while some of the children waved before getting ushered back to their tasks. Hullen, the master of horse, exited the stables at the sight of his returning lady and walked over to the courtyard. His left hand grabbed for the reins while he extended his right to YN to help her down, but he thought it through and pulled his hand back again. He knew that his lady was more than capable of getting off the horse herself. YN slid off the saddle and down onto the hard ground. “Thank you, Hullen. Treat him with the biggest apple you can find—he deserves it,” the woman smiled while patting the strong neck of her beautiful stallion Robb had gifted her shortly after their wedding. Aden had been her trustworthy companion on her rides ever since.

“Of course, m’lady,” the master of horse said, bowed his head, and led the horse back to the stables. Meanwhile, YN turned around to see Robb striding towards her, the dark fur on his cloak framing his handsome face, his dark curls still a tad tussled from their escapades a few hours prior. Smiling, the former Tyrell waited patiently until he reached her—strong hands enveloping her frame beneath the black cloak she had thrown over earlier, their faces only mere inches apart. “Wife,” he whispered in a greeting before nuzzling his nose against hers. “Husband,” YN returned, smile still on her lips, while her glove-clad fingers tangled themselves in his brown curls.

Softly and lovingly, the eldest Stark son pressed his lips to hers, and YN sighed deeply at the familiar feeling of his kisses, which still ignited a fire in her body, unlike anything she had ever felt in her life. Kissing Robb was always thrilling, always on the brink of satisfaction, and it always made her feel loved and cherished. YN really was grateful for her grandmother’s plans for her very person.

“I was worried,” the Stark mumbled against his wife’s lips before distancing himself a bit to intently eye her face. “Grey Wind was a great companion on our way home.” Robb smiled at her words but soon turned serious again. “You did not overdo it, love?” Softly, YN shook her head while her thumb caressed his cheek tenderly. “We were perfectly safe,” she promised in a whisper and laughed under her breath as the strong, serious man sighed deeply and let his hand rest on her lower stomach where a slight curve had made its appearance several weeks ago—and which kept growing steadily. “I only want you two safe and sound.”

Instead of saying something, YN pulled Robb down at his neck and kissed him with all she had, while his hand kept laying atop his first, still unborn, child.

With pleased looks on their faces stood Catelyn and Ned at the railing circling the walls of Winterfell and watched their firstborn son and first daughter-in-law. “I cannot remember seeing him this happy,” the mother mumbled while Ned held her close. “I am sure he wasn’t before she stepped into his life and turned everything upside down. I know this feeling all too well.” Catelyn looked up to her husband and smiled. “Sometimes it is good to rearrange one’s reality. It certainly didn’t harm Robb.” Ned laughed deep in his chest. “No, it definitely did not. Quite the opposite. Are you happy, Cat?” At her husband’s question, Catelyn looked up again and nodded. “I am. She is perfect for him, he is perfect for her. They await their firstborn, Maester Luwin thinks it will be a pleasant pregnancy judging by the signs so far. My son is happy, and that is all a mother can hope for.”

;

The sound of cracking wood in the grand fireplace accompanied YN in her endeavors to rise from the furred and soft chairs in front of the warm fire in their bedchambers. Suddenly, the door got opened, and Robb entered their room; the sight of his struggling wife pushed a smile on his lips. He closed the door behind him and walked over to her. “You know I can help you with that, love?” His teasing voice tickled a groan out of her, and the pregnant woman gave her attempts up. “This is nothing to laugh about. I’m not even halfway through this pregnancy and already struggling with the easiest tasks—getting out of this bloody chair on my own, for one instance,” she grumbled, and the Stark laughed lightly under his breath before kneeling down in front of his wife.

“I love you,” he told her with the most serious expression. “I love you both.” And with that, Robb bent his head and pressed a lingering kiss on her ever-growing stomach. Her fingers instantly tangled themselves in his soft brown strands, and a smile full of contentment stretched across her lips. “You are lucky you are the most loving husband in all of the Seven Kingdoms. If not, I would have chased you away a long time ago.” Robb grinned up to her and leaned his face further into her hand, which caressed his cheek, his soft beard tickling her skin. “I must be really lucky then,” he mumbled before spreading her legs and pulling his wife to the edge of the chair.

She gasped for air and rested her arms around his neck as Robb held her close and raised to his feet with her in his arms. The man carried her to the fur-covered bed and lowered her onto the soft mattress. “We have a family gathering to attend,” YN reminded the lord, but Robb only climbed over her and situated himself in the furs, pulling her body closer to his by her waist. “They will not die if we miss one dinner.” Her skin muffled his voice as he littered her throat with soft kisses before she pulled his face up.

They stared into each other’s eyes, the blissful atmosphere seeping into every corner of the room, and their body relaxed even more. YN let the tip of her nose brush against his, and Robb sighed, turning into the soft man he always was around his wife.

It still amazed him how his life had turned ever since the Golden Rose of Highgarden had entered it. Before the fateful day of her arrival, Robb Stark had only lived for his family and duty as the firstborn son of Ned Stark and future Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. He had held objections against marriage as both parents had reached out to him with the suggestion of finding and taking a wife as future Lady of Winterfell. He had never shown any interest in the daughters of the northern houses, and as his mother came to him with a letter from the Reach, he had been… intrigued but still unsure if he was ready to be a husband. But his mother and Lady Olenna had arranged a meeting halfway through the realm, and Robb must’ve been blind if he didn’t feel the attraction towards the woman now lying safely in his arms.

The thought of her in another man’s arms alone made his blood boil, and instantly, his arms enveloped her closer and pulled the woman closer and closer.

“Are you happy?”

Robb’s unsure voice pulled YN out of the daze she had fallen in while almost drowning in his dark, kind eyes, and her brows furrowed tremendously. “Do I seem unhappy? Not content?” She asked in return, now unsure herself. YN never wanted to make the impression of being unhappy up in the north, or as if she wanted to return home to the south, back to the warmth, because quite the opposite was the case. In the four years since their small wedding ceremony in the Godswoods, YN recalled not one single day filled with longing thoughts for her former home.

The Stark barely shrugged and propped himself up on one arm, looming now over her. His other hand softly caressed the soft strands of her hair spreading over the pillows. “I suppose no one ever asked you if you want to be dragged up here in the cold north. A place without the lush gardens of Highgarden, always cold and icy…-“ But YN pressed her finger against his lips to silence him. “Robb,” she whispered tenderly, grabbing his chin in her fingers and stroking over his beard with her thumb. “Do you really believe I would still be here if I were unhappy? That I would have married you and vowed my love in front of your family, in front of the gods?” Robb looked helpless as he shrugged again, and YN smiled up at him while taking his hand from her face and letting it rest on her stomach. “I would not be carrying your child if I wasn’t happy with you in the cold north, with you by my side. I was never this content in my life than here in Winterfell.” A soft grin graced her lips, and Robb sighed, clearly put at ease. “I don’t know where those thoughts came from. Sometimes the things Theon says about you are getting to my head,” the Stark tried to explain himself, but YN only shook her head. “It is all right, my love. And specifically for your mind: You are making me the happiest woman in all of Westeros.”

;

This got really shitty, and I’m super unhappy with it, but the ideas didn’t want to come for another piece, so I went with this one. I’m sorry for even uploading it xD As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated! Thanks for reading <3

#robb stark x reader #robb stark request #robb stark x fem!reader #robb stark x pregnant!reader #robb stark fanfiction #robb stark fanfic #robb stark blurb #robb stark oneshot #robb stark imagine #robb stark #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones blurb #game of thrones imagine

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cdragons · 27 days

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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

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