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axelsagewrites · 1 year

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Heya this is kind of Robb Stark but more of a friendship one where y/n is Robbs wife (Robert Baratheons only real child and is very nice a sweet and was in a arranged marriage to Robb but fell In love. She is famous for being beautiful has songs written about her and all that jazz)and it’s when Caytlen comes to camp with Brienne of Tarth and y/n is kind of amazed by her and finds her very beautiful. They end up having a conversation where y/n compliments her but Brienne thinks she’s joking but y/n is quick to correct her. y/n gives her a very encouraging speech about how she admires her . Not that Brienne would show it but she’s very touched by it and grows a soft spot for y/n just a very nice moment. If you don’t do these types of pens that’s fine ❤️

Queen in the North and South

Main Pairing: Platonic Brienne x f!reader

Second Pairing: Romantic Robb x f!reader

Summary: Brienne and the reader discuss to pros and cons of beauty and where to find it

Warnings: Mentions of creepy men

Word count: 2842

Masterlist Here

When you first arrived at Winterfell you were hesitant of your new life being forced upon you but soon grew to love it. In Kingslanding you had felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb. You didn’t share the same Lannister locks with your siblings nor your mother’s affiliation with wine. As your father’s oldest child, he adored you but as you grew, he began to show you off and flaunt you to the lords around.

“Gather round my lords and see the greatest beauty in all of Westeros!” He would cheer drunk on his ale and those around would join in. over time you learned to hide your embarrassment at the attention, and the glares your mother would give you for it and smiled politely. Men would come to court simply to play the songs they wrote for you, or lords would attempt to rhyme off pretty sonnets in your honour. It felt nice to be loved but as you grew you noticed the lust in many eyes and began to feel disgust.

But you smiled politely like you did when you first met Robb. He was of course very handsome himself; a true Tully look about him with all the Stark courage and honour. However, you tried not to obsess over looks like many had done with you and insisted on getting to know him as a person.

As it turned out Robb was more interesting than you first assumed however far too trusting of people. Something you tried to educate him on. Robb was just relieved that his wife was not just a pretty face, not that he complained about your looks since he adored them. Once you were wed you began to talk late into the night, discussing opinions and having debates. even when you told him his opinion was wrong, he couldn’t help but smile at the way you delivered the punch line.

You had learned one thing from your mother and that was that you wanted to be the opposite of her in every way. In Kingslanding you would often venture into the city to teach the small folk how to read or hear their folktales. It was how you first heard the songs they sang about you. The beauty of all the kingdoms. That’s what they called you and it meant so much more from then that it did the lords at court.

In Winterfell you spent time meeting and talking to everyone and anyone you could. Often you played hide and seek with the younger Starks and Sansa flocked to you like a mother hen. You also managed to gain the favour of many lords and ladies in the North as the South had taught you what to say and how.

When Ned Stark died it was not just the Young Wolf they rode out for and died for. It was you. While northerners cheered for Robb to be their king, Kingslanding silently begged for you their true queen to return and take the throne from your monster of a brother. You had even received letters from Dorne backing your claim. The king in the north and queen in the south.

However, you weren’t the only one who had a claim, a claim you had yet to announce you were fighting for to the world. Renly Baratheon also believed himself king. You couldn’t understand your uncles reasoning in the slightest. Stannis’s claim was the only logical one if Joffrey was a bastard and the lords sought a king not a queen. Why not join Stannis as his heir? Then you could never quite understand your uncle.

You hoped Lady Catelyn would however when she left to see his camp. Robb had insisted you did not go meet your uncle personally. While you had not announced your claim many rumours flew around about it and Robb was not prepared to send his wife off to a camp filled with your rivals’ men. Despite your marriage being a political one it had grown into love and admiration for each other. Little did Tywin know that it was not politically wise for him when he suggested it to your father who jumped at the chance to join houses with the Starks.

Every night she was gone you prayed for Catelyn’s return and your men’s safety so when you saw her arrive back at camp you began to thank them profusely. However, she returned with an extra man at her side. Or woman you should say.

Brienne of Tarth stood tall beside Catelyn, her hand always close to her sword. You were tending to the wounded when she arrived and did not have time to meet her just yet but as you gazed at her from across the camp you saw her eyes turn to you. when your eyes met you smiled and gave her a small wave. She was beautiful. Not in the typical sense you knew. But she was.

Robb was the one to tell you more about her. “Wait she was in his Kings guard? Like a knight?” You asked as you walked with your husband to the food area of your camp.

“Not a knight darling,” Robb had his hand linked with yours which kept your other free to wave to the Lords and soldiers who waved at you. even during war, they admired your elegance. “But she was his guard apparently. She beat Loras Tyrell in the tourney,”

“That couldn’t have been hard,” you joked, “that boy was all spindly legs when I saw him last,”

“He’s one of the best knights in the Kingdom,” Robbs laughed made your stomach flutter the same way it had the first night you met, “I don’t even know if I believe that she did,”

“I can believe it,”

“You see the good in everyone love,”

You snorted at his words as you took a bowl of stew from one of the men, “No,” you retorted as Robb got his own, raising an eyebrow at your words, “I just don’t announce my distrust to the world. Have I taught you noting?” you teased.

Robb rolled his eyes with a smile. You glanced over to where Brienne was sat alone and foodless. “You wanna go sit with her, don’t you?” he asked, and you nodded sheepishly, “Go on, make some friends,” Robb chuckled as he handed you another bowl of stew to give to the woman, “I’m gonna go eat with Lord Karstarks to talk battle plans,”

“Okay have fun, if that’s possible,” You grinned. Robb rolled his eyes before pressing a brief kiss to your lips and walking away.

You turned your attention to Brienne who was whitling a piece of wood with a knife. You smiled and nodded to all the men as you walked across the camp to where she sat on a log. “May I join you lady Brienne?” you smiled as you held out the bowl to her.

Brienne looked up quickly, her eyes wide, “It’s just Brienne. I’m no lady. I’m sure you would enjoy someone else’s company more your grace,” she said. You held the bowl out further his she finally took, “Thank you,”

“You’re welcome,” you said before sitting on the log beside her, Brienne looking at you as if she had three heads, “I thought your father was lord tarth?” you mused as you began to eat your stew, handing Brienne a spare spoon for hers.

Her eyes faltered between yours and the food, “Um he is,” she started as she turned her attention to stare into the camp, “I am a lady by birth right your grace but not by actions,”

“Life would be far more interesting if there were more ladies like you,”

“You don’t know me your grace,”

“Then what do I need to know?” you asked as you set your spoon down. “I’m all ears,”

Reluctantly Brienne began to tell you her life so far though not the personal bits of course. She told you how she found herself at Renly’s camp, how she fought for him, swore an oath to him, and became a king’s guard. You laughed at her stories, a genuine laugh that touched Brienne as you actually seemed to care. perhaps it was fake she thought. Perhaps that’s why people sang songs about you.

None the less she decided to enjoy your company at least for dinner, “It was about time someone knocked down Loras a leg or two. When I was eight, he spilled his father’s wine all down my dress because I told him his hair was ugly,”

Brienne couldn’t stop herself from laughing at your antics, “Maybe you shouldn’t have insulted him,”

“Oh, im sure he started it,” you joked as you set the now empty bowl on the ground, “if not him then it was defiantly Margaery. I refuse to accept it was my fault,” Normally Brienne would judge your words but the way you laughed made it clear unlike many you could handle a joke.

Something she appreciated as you laughed at hers. “I must say your grace you’re not what I expected from the songs,”

You groaned at her words, “Oh gods what do they sing about me over there?”

Brienne laughed at your fake agony, “Just the usual. That you’re beautiful and kind,”

“Have I offended you?” you joked turning to face her straight on, “Have I not been kind?”

Brienne flushed at your words, “Forgive me your grace. It’s just most Ladies I know aren’t as kind as you,”

“Or you,” you agreed, “Then again, I’ve never met another lady like you. it’s refreshing honestly. And for the record I hate those songs,” You confessed your longest running lie to a stranger, but Brienne moral code was stronger than the Starks.

“How can you hate being called beautiful?” she asked, and you could feel the resentment from her. the same feeling you got from many other ladies who would push you as a child or gossip about you as an adult.

You sighed as you placed your arms on your knees to lean forward, thinking before you spoke, “When Robb calls me beautiful I feel a warm feeling in me that spreads across me like a love struck plague,” you began, recalling the butterflies you had felt the first time he kissed your hand when you met. “The first time I heard one of those songs yes sure it made me feel good. Then I saw the way the lords would look at me. Then I heard what they sang and said when they thought I wasn’t around. They didn’t view me as a person,” you sighed as you recalled all the pervy comments and creepy stares.

“Im sorry you had to deal with that my lady,” Brienne placed her hand on your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze.

You turned your head to look at her and sat back up, “it’s not your fault. Besides everyone’s beautiful in their own way,” you mused.

Brienne barked out a laugh. “That’s where you’re wrong my lady,”

“You can find beauty everywhere. All you need to do is look,” you said as you looked out over the camp. “See him over there? With the dried blood covering his face?” you nodded towards one of the Karstarks boys and Brienne couldn’t help but noted how the battles must have harmed his face, “He has the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. Better than all the singers in Kingslanding and him,” you nodded towards another unassuming man by the fire, “Whittles these wooden figures that have so much detail and grace in every carving. Even him,” you nodded at the most closed off, grumpy one of your fighters who constantly looked ready to spit on someone, “has the biggest most beautiful smile when he laughs. Just because you can’t see the beauty at first glance doesn’t mean it’s not there,”

Brienne looked around the camp at all the different men and how they spoke, laughed, and moved. “Do you know all of your men?” she asked.

“I try to,” you answered as you took both your dirty dishes to take to be washed but one of your men stopped you to take them from you, “Thank you lord Umber,” you smiled at him before turning back to Brienne, “People respond far better to kindness than cruelness,”

“It’s a shame that most find it easier to be cruel than kind,” Brienne said as you both continued to walk around the camp. She enjoyed your company more than she’d like to admit.

You glanced to where Catelyn sat alone with her food in deep thought, “Hurt people hurt. While it does dismiss their actions it can help to explain them,”

“I suppose,” Brienne agreed, “But it’s hard not to hate them for it,”

“I know. trust me,” you said as you linked your arm with the woman who flinched initially at your touch. However, Brienne found comfort in the way you held her arm as you guided her around camp. “The sky’s so beautiful tonight,” you broke the comfortable silence.

“It is,” Brienne paused as she thought. She wanted to ask but worried you would think her weird. “Can you truly see the beauty in everything?” she asked. Brienne was mocked constantly growing up for her looks and how she acted. Men flinched when they saw her, but you looked at her with deep admiration.

“Everyone can. If they take the time,” you knew what she was thinking without her saying. You heard your own men mock her in the shadows and how they laughed. Some people were cruel, but you refused to be to those who had done nothing to deserve it. “I used to dream of knights as a child,” Brienne raised an eyebrow as you began your tangent. “Of how they rode their horses with such expertise and how they didn’t even have to look to know where their knife was about to strike. I used to admire their honour and their duty. Of course, I also dreamed about their armour and how imposing it made them look. I wanted to surround myself with them so that the men in their armour and imposing nature would protect me out of honour and morality.

Those dreams died the first time a knight made a pass at me at 14,” Brienne screwed her face up at the idea that anyone, any man, would dream of hurting you, “I remember how his head rolled off his body when my father executed him for it. so, I stopped dreaming of knights,” You stopped walking to turn to Brienne, taking her hands in yours. Your hands were soft and tender while hers were rough and scarred, “You however are the truest knight I have ever met. And that Brienne is far more beautiful than hair of black silk or just another pretty face. You’re the most handsome, beautiful knight I have ever laid my eyes upon so don’t let silly boys ruin what you see in the mirror,”

Tears lined Brienne eyes, but she had taught herself not to let them fall even when you gave her hands a gentle squeeze, “I am no knight my lady,”

“Not yet,” you said as you removed your hands from hers, “But when I am queen, I will make sure you are,”

Brienne had already sworn her loyalty to Renly but her king was dead and now she was stood before someone equally as kind as he had been to her, “You would make a fine queen your grace of the north or the south,” You smiled at her words, “But what of your brother?” she asked.

“That boy is the cruellest person I have ever met,” you said as you stared off into the distance, “He will only be beautiful when he is dead,”

Brienne had assumed by your appearance you knew nothing of politics and war but as she saw your jaw clench and your eyes gaze into the distance, she knew she had been wrong. The sound of her unsheathing her sword brought your attention back to her and you could hear the camp go silent at her actions. Your men’s hands flew to their own sword hilts as they watched her but relaxed slightly when Brienne went on one knee, holding her sword out to you, “It would be my honour to serve you your grace,” Brienne said, “As queen in the north and in the south,”

You smiled at her words, a genuine smile of love and compassion, “You honour me greatly Brienne of Tarth,” your hand came to rest on her shoulder, “When the war is won and Kingslanding has been saved and Ned Stark avenged I will have you knighted before the iron throne before the gods and the realm,”

Brienne looked up at you, her eyes wet with happy tears. You smiled down at her with love and sincerity, something even Renly’s eyes failed to offer at times. “A good day that’ll be your grace,”

#brienne of tarth #brienne of tarth imagine #brienne of tarth x reader #brienne x reader #brienne imagine #platonic brienne of tarth #robert baratheon daughter #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #robb stark x reader #robb stark imagine #robb stark

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rise-my-angel · 7 months

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Heart of the Great Wolf

20 - Visions in Eye and Flames

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

Length: 12.4k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, discussions of warfare, minor blood and violence, talk of executions, mentions of child death, mild gore, suicidal ideation, references to rape

Notes: We got a few big boy chapters coming up, so I'm posting this one early. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here.

Renly Baratheon spent so much of his days taking little of anything seriously. Only a child when he was given Storm’s End meaning much of the ruling had to be taught to him, if at all. Then being brought to King’s Landing when he became old enough did once more he get granted a position on the small council without ever truly doing the work to earn it. Most days he spent it laughing and gambling with Littlefinger and the more that piled onto Stannis’s desk the more tiresome he found his brother.

It was why he begun sending his eldest daughter away in the first place. Renly was spoiled and had no idea what true hard work it took to run Robert’s Kingdom for him and he had no intention of letting you become the same. The North was a surprising choice as it also was easy. Many of the Seven Kingdom’s were no different then the backstabbing of King’s Landing, and he found no ally he trusted in Dorne nor did he appreciate their much more free leisurely way of life.

No one would call Stannis a friend of Eddard Stark, but then most would not call Stannis a friend to any person. A bitter taste in his mouth after spending a year holding off a siege of Storm’s End, starving as slowly they made their way through the horses, then the dogs, the cats, the rats and finally just as there left was only option left to them, just as he was sure his wife as dying, did a boat appear carrying enough food that they could hold off for just a bit longer. Long enough to have it end. And it was Ned Stark who arrived, ending the siege and it was Ned Stark which was given the credit for the work.

He was the man Robert wished was his true brother, the one that was looked at and trusted in ways that he would never be. And as much as there was a stubborn resentment, he was smart enough to know that there was no glory or gain from the actions Ned Stark took. He was not a man who let his successes influence who he was and it was his best option.

Dragonstone was dark, and grim and you for a long time there were very alone with little in the way of friends. He could send you there for a time, and know you would learn as much from the man as you did gain from being around the Stark’s children. He had two sons around your age and it would do you some good to be around them.

Selyse had an issue with it. She had just lost her second boy before birth, and she considered the Northerners to be unruly and unbefitting of her daughter. Saying keeping her around boys as she grew up at that time would only serve a distraction. Putting suggestions of houses at least with a girl your age to be sent to, but Stannis trusted none of them to teach you. You learned a great deal from him, even in the months before the Jon Arryn’s death you would still travel to spend your time in Winterfell at Ned Stark’s side. Taking it as seriously as you did your first months ever there.

She wasn’t wrong about his boys however. You made friends with his sons faster then you did anyone on Dragonstone and the more you would write home or visit, the more you talked about them and not what you were learning. Each time you would come home a little more light in your eyes, a little more wild then before but that also was why he finally took you with him to King’s Landing. Selyse had Shireen to dote on by then, and he wanted to crush out whatever carefree nonsense the two Stark Boys were influencing you with. And he had watched as that wild streak tamed over time finally as you took far more after him then you did Renly, or the Northerners you stayed with. Or so he once thought.

Until sailing to Eastwatch by the sea, Stannis had never set foot in the North. He had no reason to, most didn’t. It was large, and cold, and the Northerners too difficult to control but somehow they had seen you as one of their own. He had hoped that meant finding allegiance in them would be easier then he thought, but they were a stubborn people.

As the snow mounted around his army, he had both demanded they stay quiet and out of word and sight to the rest of the Kingdom, as well as to find reassurance in their god which wasn’t burned in a fire. Early on his men asking for burnings as sacrifices for better luck and weather, but Stannis only told them “I will have no burnings. Pray harder.”

He had left the red woman behind on purpose, her fire god asking too much of him and the more he spent listening to her the less chance he had to gain the people’s support. He had lost it in the wildlings, and if he continued as such he would lose any new chance of an ally. Regret was not often a word in his vocabulary, but the longer the war went on, the more he looked back with disdain on the inhumane actions he had chosen so brazenly. He would remember that look of hate in your eyes that day in the field.

As much as he went on about how you were a traitor, realizing that you had died hating him, was the worst punishment Stannis could receive for his sins. A punishment for those sins that had yet to cease.

The Bolton’s were smart, keeping their presence around the North minimum but Stannis’s silence meant that they now had no idea if he was out there to attack. His biggest issue now, lay in the scattered remains of the Ironborn. With no unity to fight them out with, each House seemed doomed to fight them off on their own as their new wardens prepared for Stannis alone.

But the North it seemed, did not break from what his daughter had told him. What Robb Stark had told him. They wouldn’t have him as their King, and as his army encroached onto Deepwood Motte it was an itching question of who exactly would they even listen to at this point.

Robert many times went on often and loudly how difficult it was to control them, and truly Stannis was starting to understand that fact.

It was a tricky spot to approach in, not quite close enough to the waters to push them back into and corner them. It was going to have to be a risk of cutting himself a path and holding the line rather then trap them between two spots with nowhere to run. Then again, many of his moves now seemed to be gambles of varying pay off. His one with Jon Snow certainly didn’t.

A man as stubborn as his father but it was not his place to argue. He made his choice and Stannis had to plan regardless of the difficulty without him. He had seen great potential, but there was much holding him back that day and he could only guess as to what upbringing led a son of Ned Stark to be alone in the Night’s Watch.

He had hoped to feed into the injustice of what the Bolton’s had done to his family and his home, remind him that the man who held Winterfell was the same man who murdered Jon’s own brother but still he said no. Offered to make him a true Stark and become Lord of Winterfell himself and still he said no. What would get him to say yes, what was left in this world for Stannis to offer him that would finally pull Jon Snow out of the frozen waste of Castle Black and into the fight.

But if only for that particular day, he had to shelve that thought for later. Or at least he thought he did.

The men for House Glover had no fight, pushed back into their own home and not enough of an advantage to overpower the Ironborn infesting it. Coming up from the southeast, he was strategizing for just that fight. And as that fight proceeded, he knew he needed to push them back enough to give the Glover’s a chance to break into it on their own as well.

Only, it was not the allies of the North which came from the northwest. There in fact for the most part, were none in the hands of the men who came. Not Ironborn either.

Stannis had the line blocked so they could not pass through them but it was the men which came from above that circled around the rest and cut off any escape. Blocking the Ironborn in as their fight grew fruitless. Their fighting was a mix, some with a tactical approach others with a brutal bloodshed that charged with little fear.

Only in the midst did he realize he in fact, recognized there was at least one image he knew. Pressed into the shields and armour of the men was that of a bear. But it was the ones they fought with that was confusing. The very wildlings who had so adamantly denied his cause.

But as the fighting stopped finally, it was an image he almost thought he hallucinated the first few seconds he realized what he was looking at. But standing in front of him and not frozen away still.

So this was that feeling. It had been a long time since it passed through you, but you recalled the shaking in your bloodstream vividly then as well. This time you knew what to expect, but did you really?

The worst of the battles were eluding you by the end of the war. Lannisters on the run, and hiding away so much there was no fight to be found for some months. But now, after everything that has been between the last fight you remembered and now, you could very well be right before that first one in Whispering Wood. Uncertain for the safety of those you care about going into this, but far less of that was wondering of yourself.

This time as you sat in the Mormont’s armoury all on your own, slowly lacing up your boots in the quiet you contemplated something you had told Robb. Back in Winterfell when men once more were gathering around to prepare for war, “I know how to swing a sword, but maybe that doesn’t mean I have the right to be out there with you and these men.”

Robb had assured you on it then, but his words no longer reached your darker mind now. Maybe you were really just trying to play in something you couldn’t handle anymore, but who would you be if only now did you just hide away from it?

Only as a pair of gloves lightly smacked into your chest, your eyes instantly peeled up in a glare to the somewhat amused Theon. “I’d ask if you were alright, but I know you’d just lie.” Leaning back against the wall closest to you, he watched as you tugged them on irritated. “Don’t think I’ve seen you this wound up since-”

“I know.” Cutting him off you looked back down. Letting your foot step from the stone bench back onto the ground, you swung yourself to sit forward. “I can’t tell if knowing what the fight we are walking into will look like makes me feel more assured or less.” Pausing you looked up to him, his own eyes wandering off as he was lost in thought. “What about you? Ironborn are your own people, are you sure you’re up to being on the other side of them?”

He didn’t respond right away, but you felt the conflict. “Don’t know. Guess I’ll only find out when I’m actually out there again. Were you prepared to fight on the other side of your father?”

Your eyes snapped up, stuck to a meaningless spot on the floor before you shrugged and continued fiddling with the leather. “Always figured it was an inevitability. He thought I was a traitor, there isn’t much space for love in there to hesitate towards.”

“Thought I was the traitor.”

He said it so casually that when you looked up with a confused look, you could see the humour hiding his deep struggle of it. The sides of your mouth quirked up a bit to alleviate the weight on his shoulders. “At this point I’m not sure there’s even one of us who isn’t seen as a traitor to someone somewhere along the lines. Just something they will have to move past.”

“Oh, just like how you’re so good at moving on from things.” You glared up at him, but he just crossed his arms looking at you with a more narrowed, almost analyzing gaze. “Ever since the day you rode into Winterfell with the royal family you’ve taken every single problem and just put it on yourself with blame and never let anyone take any of it off. You just keep holding onto everything like you’re afraid to it’ll all crumble the second anyone helps.”

You didn’t respond, and you knew it was hypocritical of you to even do this. You had told Robb so assuredly, that he shouldn’t be carrying the burdens of leadership and war all on his own but yet you found no reasonable solution to such things other then to take it all on you. “Don’t know any other way, I suppose.”

“Could try not being so miserable all the time.” A small smirk shared between you at the insult but you found not the strength to really bite back on it. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but you’re likely not going to feel any better by assuming everyone wants to blame you. They’ll have enough to blame me for, so try letting me share some now.”

You bit your tongue in thought, trying to contemplate how these people even still saw any good in you when a pair of entering footsteps caught your attention. Looking up to the main door though, was not in a manner as subtle as you were perhaps hoping. He was having one side of thoughts, you were having the other and quickly the third part in Theon found no desire to be in between. Grabbing both sets of bows before leaving the room.

Jon was better a this then you were, acting so natural as if there was nothing to think back so distractedly. Given better attire and armour by the Mormont’s set something off in your blood when it was not the time nor the place. Dressed not like others of the Night’s Watch any longer, his new colours draped in a dark, blueish green and browns in leather armour that all made him look like a proper warrior, a leader. Strapped around him still was Longclaw that stood out far more against this look then blending with the black before it.

Only sight was your eyes narrowing a little as you glanced to him, looking discreetly from his sword to his hair now pulled all the way back most wouldn’t think anything of it, but Jon knew better. Especially now. “Something on your mind?”

Quickly finding his eyes again before you closed yourself back up, fussing with the tightness of your boots laces only to find a distraction. “No.” You paused before trying to slip out in a flat tone, “I’ve never seen you dressed for a fight like this, is all. Caught me off guard.”

Unlike Theon, there was little wait in Jon approaching you, taking a seat beside you despite how you tried to not look at him. “I haven’t seen you like this either, remember?” You shrugged, to many nerves about too much at one running inside your mind. Jon called your name, turning your head slightly to his direction but it wasn’t enough for him. Saying it much more stern in a deeper tone, causing you to finally look up at him.

He looked incredibly handsome like this and you hated that you were even thinking about that right now.

“I want you away from the main fight as long as you can.” Once perhaps he would’ve thought you’d argue back but you just sat in quiet, eyes looking at him but still far away as he continued. “You haven’t been in a real battle in well over a year, and you’re not even fully healed yet. I can’t have you getting hurt out there.”

Biting your tongue, your nodded as a weight settled in your chest. Leaning your forearms over on your knees as you clasped your hands you quietly muttered, “No, I get it. Stay on the sides, out of the way.”

Jon was quick to jump on that, tone a little more tinged in a frustration. “That’s not what I’m saying, and you know that.” You sighed deeply, he was right but you didn’t really know what else to feel sometimes outside of whatever this hopelessness was. “If I let you out there, trying to risk your life just because you think you’re expected to, could you really tell me that you care enough about yourself anymore to not get hurt?”

Once more, you said nothing and he was right. Shaking your head slightly you sighed, “Sometimes I hate that you still know me so well. Especially now that you’re much bossier.” Leaning away from him, you missed the fond smirk slipping onto his face briefly.

“You stay closer to the sides with Theon, you were always a better shot with an arrow then you were with a sword.” If the nerves in you weren’t screeching you may have nudged him for that, and Jon picked up instantly how difficult it was to find that playfulness the closer to a fight it was. Leaning forward he matched your position but never tried invading your space. “You’re allowed to let other people do some of the hard work, you know.”

“You are King. And that means realizing you don’t always have to do everything yourself.”

Since when were you such a hypocrite? Were you always this was, and no one had made notice of it to you? Nodding weakly, you could feel his eyes on you, you only seeing part of him in your side vision without turning proper. “As long as you do the same. Make me do some of the hard work for you, I mean.”

By not looking at him, you did however miss the dark greed in his eyes flashing by quick, as he also swallowed, forcing something very not appropriate for this setting back down his throat. Trying desperately to focus on anything but how breathless you sounded with his name moaning from your lips the other night, and how much of a siren’s song the taste between your legs called to him as. “Think we could figure something out.” For a moment you both sat in the quiet together before he asked, “Are you ready?”

He knew you had too much anxiety to speak much, taking your nod as his answer. Standing up, Jon held a hand out to you to pull you to your feet. Looking at you closely for a second, giving a slip of softness in the heavy looming air. His hand letting yours go as it reached up, running gently down your cheek and cupping your jaw with a thumb running along the skin it just passed over.

In an easier time, Jon wouldn’t have hesitated to lean down and kiss you. But he told himself, ease you into things. The closer this fight got to Ramsay, the more he knew you would lose the capability to relax even when alone. Instead he pulled back, gently pushing you towards the door with a rasping, “Come on, they’re all waiting on us.”

It was Galbert Glover which was the one who displayed which side confused Stannis. In the final calm of everything, finding an easier victory then presumed as the Ironborn were not prepared for the wildness of the free folk being led with genuine strategy. “Never thought I’d live to see the day I was grateful to see the wildlings coming through those woods.”

Recognizing a once fellow soldier in Maege Mormont, the pair of them clasped arms in a firm shake, a gratefulness on both of them seeing the other still alive. “Can’t say I did either, but they get the job done don’t they.” She easily recalled the last time she had seen Stannis Baratheon, and the many since rumours she’d heard didn’t make the formal greeting any more welcoming. She let her little spitfire Lyanna send that raven for a reason afterall. Give him a taste of how the North felt about his claim.

Turning to look at him, as the free folk surrounded the Baratheon men unsure as to what fight they may be looking at next. Tormund staring down the man, no faith in what he would presume they were here for and he received it. “Your people deny my cause, and yet you show up in battle regardless.”

Tormund’s unimpressed voice rumbled out loud for all to hear, “We didn’t come here for you.”

Stannis asked for who, and like a parting sea in the crowd of free folk they all turned to make way a path for the one who did lead them. His own armour doused in as much blood as his sword dripped but certainly it was indeed Jon Snow. The men around him holding a confidence in how they looked to him come into the clearing.

Meeting each other half way, and certainly not looking for any kind of fight further, both men reached out to shake the others hand firmly. Stannis speaking up first as they let go, “I take it this means you’ve reconsidered my offer.”

But Jon was confident, a furrowed look in his brow as though it spoke of something he knew that the King before him did not. He knew two things, and both were as much as a hit to the gut as the other as far as he was concerned. “No. I haven’t, your grace. I’m not here to fight for you, I’m here to fight for them.” Looking to where both of those in House Mormont and House Glover stood before turning back. “I mean no offence to your help, but the North isn’t your home to defend. It’s mine, and theirs.”

Gesturing to those who stood behind him before finding all certainty full in his tone. “I’m not here to kneel, or to ask anyone else to. One of your men, Ser Davos, told me that as long as the Bolton’s hold the North it will suffer, and that just maybe I’m no use to anyone if I hide at Castle Black while my home gets torn apart. But I’m here for my people, to fight with them, and beside you if you will. Not to submit them to your cause.”

If Jon had to wager a guess, he would assume that the King was currently trying to decide if he admired him for his brazenness or hang him for his insolence. That narrowed, sharp expression in his eyes on top of a cold face gave little away and his tone gave even less. Even as it could sound. “You got them to follow you.”

Years ago, such a statement would have had Tormund stepping up in an angry defence, but things were different now. And Jon appreciated the trust in him to speak for them with honesty. “The free folk didn’t follow me beacuse they had to, they did it beacuse I asked them for help. Not to bend to me, but to fight beside me. After what we’ve seen, they understand we can’t let whose King of who get in the way anymore.”

Galbert Glover approached the pair, “If there’s a wildling army on my land, then that means you must be Jon Snow.”

Willing him not to say anything in front of all these people the two shook hands. “I am, my lord. It isn’t easy, asking to put years of fighting with wildlings aside but I’m grateful you agreed to hear us out.” A flicker of eyes between, Jon could recognize was the realization Stannis was having of missing key information. Jon stepping towards Lord Glover in a lower tone, “There are matters would be best discussed in private, my lord. If you still are willing to-”

Getting used to being treated with the kind of respect he could see these same men giving Robb, was strange but there was not a single ounce of ire in the interruption. “My home has been ravaged by the Ironborn for over two years, and that’s all ended now thanks to both of you. I am more then willing to hear your proposal.” For a second, Jon had glanced in the distance and if he was seeing Ghost he knew who was not far behind, and doing it in front of all these people was a big mistake.

The lord and the Southern King greeted each other at least showing the same degree of respect to his own fight for Deepwood Motte. If there weren’t so many people around, Jon may have tried it. But eyes were lingering too much in the crowd of a once battlefield and there was enough to discuss then to add that. He could only hope he was conveying enough to Ghost from their eyes meeting far off, that he understood to keep back. Ghost backing up a bit before turning around and taking off.

He wasn’t going to parade you around your father and his men like a spectacle to gawk at.

It wasn’t supposed to take this long to join, but truth be told there weren’t only hangups for you that were keeping it back. Beckoning the men with you to go on ahead you looked back up from your arm to them with a narrowed glare, “Keep this scrape out of your mouths, would you? No need to go blathering everytime I get a cut.”

You’d spent more time around these men then Theon did. Spent more years in a war with soldiers of the Mormonts on your side and it seemed the striking attitude was taken with a grin and a mumbled agreement as they left. Theon knelt at your side pulling the bloody leather on your upper arm apart enough to glance at it. “You think he’s not going to notice the second he sees you?”

Rolling your eyes you huffed, “I would just rather not be fussed over right now, I’d rather be anywhere then here right now.” You had been the one to spot out your fathers men right away and you were thankful if you had any skill with you still, at least you could hold your own with a bow. An excuse to stay as far away as possible. “What about you?”

Raising an eyebrow with a glint of mocking, “You asking if I want to be fussed over? Because if it’s by Snow, then no thank you I’ll pass.” You rolled your eyes again, finding no amusement in it but as Theon cleared his throat and tore the leather open a bit more to see how deep it was, you knew the facade wasn’t as strong as he pretended. “I don’t know, I can’t say I feel bad, didn’t know these men and they didn’t want to know me. The more we get on our side the more they’re going to start thinking that way about me. Hope you’re still coherent enough to defend me then.”

His voice hissing a bit as he seemed to finally have noticed it was deeper then you had admitted the slice to the arm was. You were taken by suprise by an Ironborn in the ends of the fighting, running behind you enough to slice at your arm before you could defend yourself. Theon sending an arrow through his throat moments after.

One fight back and you already were worse then the first one you ever battled in. A dreading promise of your future uselessness. Glancing up with a guarded, but almost regretful expression sinking into your eyes at Theon, he tried not to look as he carefully wrapped a bandage inside the tear of your armour and around the cut for now. “I will be, if my father doesn’t hang me for being a traitor that is.”

If you were joking, neither you nor Theon expanded upon that sentiment. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Satisfied with the wrappings for now, he pulled you up to your feet as you just looked at the other for a moment. You were both stalling, and you both knew it but finally you walked closer to the edge of the snowy cliff to snatch your bow. “I’ve done plenty wrong.”

The bodies around couldn’t help but make you wonder, if the Ironborn were still this prevalent in areas of the North and from what you had gathered there was little help from the Bolton’s, you wondered just what their numbers looked like. The houses on their side, and their now more untouched army having cleared their way to Winterfell would give them a mighty advantage should they have that amount against yours.

As you got closer, the more your nerves flared up. Seeing a clearing further from the Glover’s Keep, you found the stares from both sides to be unnerving. One side looked to you with knowledge of the dead and the other likely just saw you as a traitor to be taken care of. Stares of men you hardly knew anymore, and then stares of men you barley knew to start with but it seemed conversations had moved on without you.

For once, you were thankful not to be in on it. Your arm already was sore from your own incompetence, you nodded to Theon who parted ways, already reading what you intended to ask of him. The only other one around with any casual intention finding his way to you in the quiet mess. “One of these days I’m going to have to see what a pretty crow like you, looks like swinging that sword.”

Glancing up from your partially knelt over position, you raised an eyebrow at Tormund with a small huffing breathe of amusement before directing your attention back the count still holding on a number in your head. “Might want to start one now then. Once my father realizes I’m alive I’m fairly certain the upstanding holder of duty and justice will serve my treason a swift sentence.”

Coming around to see your face more clearly, it was twisted in a terse frustration that narrowed your brows into a scowl as you continued on. “You think any of us will let that happen?”

You shrugged, voice tight and restrained. “It isn’t up to you. It’s up to the King.”

Kneeling down, the wilder man took no issue with snatching the wiring you were coiling and tossing it out of sight. Leaning to follow your turn to watch it go before you relented. Once more making eye contact with him, eyebrow raised in waiting. His own features narrowed slightly, “How are you more stubborn then your crow, in there?” Head nodding to the Glover’s reclaimed Keep.

Expression did not move not twitch, flat tongued tone spilling out. “Spend a few years being raised by my father and see for yourself.” Tilting bit as your shoulders dropped, voice a bit more quiet. Not quite relaxed, but a relenting ease. “I spent three years at war thinking eventually, I would find myself fighting against him too. Called me a traitor and my husband a thief and a usurper, and the only reason he’d feel any guilt about it is beacuse he spent a year thinking I was dead. You’re likely not aware of this, but guilt is not exactly a strong motivator for a man like Stannis Baratheon.”

“So why’s it so damned strong in you?” As you braced your hands on your thighs to push yourself up, Tormund did so with no effort and dragged you up in the process like you weighed nothing. Your hands braced on your hips, knees slightly bent favouring one side he noticed, you were looking out to the snow melting landscape he got the sense you were simply trying to accept the worse case scenario. “As if you’re crow’s going to let anything happen to you. Can barley take his eyes off you for more then five seconds when he’s near you, you’re not going anywhere.”

As Theon reemerged, you nodded to your current companion lungs constricting with each step. You tilted your head slightly in question, and he did for what it was worth, look somewhat apologetic. Head dropping fully to one side as your face fell and eyes narrowed, he gave you an incredulous look in return. “You think your father’s going to hang you, well Jon would hang me if I sent you to him and didn’t mention you were hurt.”

“I’m not hurt, it’s barley-”

Theon didn’t give you the chance, walking passed you with a shove to your upper back. “It’s only going to be worse if you make him come find you himself.” Yelling fading as he got further away.

The walk to the keep was short, but felt an eternity passing each step forward. A childish wish weeks ago that maybe the gods would bring just your father to you when it was all you loved that you thought you lost. Now, you couldn’t possibly conceive of a less appealing idea then having to face what you did, and what she did.

And how if he didn’t hate you when you died, he would knowing you were what he has left and the pathetic failure to live up to what he had tried to teach you to be for your entire life. What leader were you by now that could live up in Stannis Baratheon’s eyes? Especially one with eyes as cold and dispondant as you were coming up the steps, guards at the main doors opened for you with mutterings of a title you wish wasn’t you anymore.

Even worse, as soon as you stepped inside, Jon all but accosted you too suddenly for your dreary haze of a mind. One hand on your cheek, inspecting anything major on your face as the other gentle just below the bandage clearly bleeding through. “What the hell happened?”

Shaking your head the nerves just raced inside it bouncing like coins. “Jon, I’m fine-”

“You’re not fine.” The hand on your cheek joining the other to pull your arm towards him, turning it as you looked at the slight blood and grime over him. “You should let me close this before it gets any worse.”

Trying to pull away, it didn’t even phase the far stronger man as he just pulled you back with a hand at your waist. The other peeling back the bandage enough to gauge how deep it was. “One cut, it’s one cut, Jon.”

As if something suddenly swam into the fore most of his mind, his fingers gently ran through the loose strands of hair at the side of your face before cupping it tenderly. His own eyes dark, tied between angry and upset that made your heart ache even more when his face twisted to the same expression match as he spoke. As if out of breathe, and full of a worry and irritation. “How the hell did Robb do this?”

Your face fell a bit, but he moved the other from your arm to the other side of your cheek, not pulling you any closer but keeping you right where he could see your eyes. “Do what?”

Both knowing it wasn’t anger at him, not at Robb. An anger however, at something far more complex in detail only made worse likely by both of you in visions of blood and death to the other. “Stand fighting knowing you were out there too. I hate it, hated every second not knowing where the hell you were or if you were alright. How did he just let you into the thick of all that and not lose his mind?”

In truth, you both were just more confident then. Fought and loved together it was easy to feel on equal grounds together with Robb. But who you had become? Now you were painfully aware that Jon was so much more then you were. Even when being generous towards your own worth. Wanting to reach out to him, but you hesitated like many times before, fingers stretched but flexed back into themselves rather then find somewhere on him to rest them. “Jon, it’s just a scratch. I barley did anything out there, regardless.”

The blackness faded away some as he calmed. The grey now looking over your face like it had been ages since he’d been allowed to see it. “You shouldn’t have to be out there at all.” For a split second, magnets coming together like a fate meant to be as Jon’s eyes slipped down to your lips and back up. And as quick as the force pulled him barley an inch closer did doors opening in the distance once more pull you apart entirely.

For the best you thought. You hadn’t felt his lips against yours since that first night and whatever restraint still existed in you was quickly dying each time you felt them anywhere on you at all.

Head tilting down for a moment when no one passed by or turned corner to interrupt, you broached with caution. “Does he know, or are we leaving that up to me?”

Sighing, Jon’s brows narrowed a tinge as he glanced between you and the path to your father. “Lord Glover has agreed to pledge his own men to us, saying that if Robb refused to bend to Stannis, then he wouldn’t either. But I think he’s starting to put it together.”

Feeling the breeze around you, sat atop your horse your memory could see the simple disdain for your choices in his eyes. That your duty was beside him as his daughter, but even still you found no favourable manner of crossing to his instead of the people who looked to you as their own. “Either way.” You dropped your arms from their crossed position of your chest to your side as your face stilled. “Suppose it’s time for me to find out what it is he still does with traitors.”

Jon tried taking a step back towards you, but how closed off you were becoming to him to stop in his track. Looking you over, eyes glazing across your arm. “You really should let me take care of that before you see him.”

The shrug on your shoulders didn’t sit well with him. Wishing you would find something within yourself to push for and still coming up short. “If he’s going to burn me, a little blood won’t matter much then will it?” Jon tried calling your name in a quiet warning, but you turned to walk towards the doors. Not needing the sight to know that Jon was following you.

The doors to the main hall opened, and inside was both Lord Glover, and Stannis Baratheon. One looked at you with the same shock most others did while the other was more challenging to ascertain the meaning. Yours was the same for him, however.

Eyes watching you carefully with heavy air and the scent of blood still fresh around you even so far removed from it’s vicinity. Your life and his both caked in layers of death yet never once stood on the same ground as anything but enemies. Not once in the emotion of care did footsteps carry you to the table they both found themselves around while your own heart was steady enough to keep yourself willed together.

Not as unseemly as the last, more full of colour and life as if the thing which took toll had long healed with eyes dull in colour giving away nothing. Or much and you simply did not know him well enough to detect anymore. The only man you were sure you could read was your father but as foreign to you as was as detached to the memories with you.

Those early days on Dragonstone as he continuously hit you with a practice sword, little instruction each time but a few words that you connected in a string of lessons. The quicker you became under his instruction, the more he would smile when you came close to striking him. No such fondness in the echoing quiet of the room.

Jon had approached to your side, “Lord Glover, I don’t want to impose in your own home but perhaps some privacy would be helpful.” You didn’t look anywhere but him, a coldness sitting so heavily within the colours of your eyes that where else was left for you to go but freeze over entirely.

Standing, he took no offence to you not making any motion towards him. Lord Glover clearly was used to you by now, even if it seemed like such a stand off behaviour for a not so keen eye. “Of course. The room is yours as long as you need it, your grace.”

Eyes of a father flickering to beside you, and the pieces fit closer to making the right image when he was not sure who it was the title was directed towards. But knowing the Glover was not looking or speaking to him. You cared not with him, it was a truth he had failed to face before and you would not stand for it again.

Two Baratheon’s staring with the same analyzing judgment before your tone came out, flat and even with not a hint of anything to detect behind it. “Heard you were dead.”

Stannis’s eyebrows quirked up only a single breathe as his voice was yours as yours was his. Clearly he raised to be like him too much. “The North is large, word of my whereabouts travel slow. Yours however, didn’t travel at all.” You spoke nothing and forced him to keep the conversation float enough to keep from sinking. “Rumours are rarely true, what am I to make of the one I know the Northerners are whispering about you.”

Match met in eyes, you saw them flicker down to where it could not be seen. “Just because I stand before you now doesn’t make them lies.” Images almost came upon his eyes as your father seemed to find little doubt in whatever it was was spoken of you.

Coming up to the thin table, you stood at the other side facing him directly. Your palms flattening across the smooth surface slightly wishing that this could just be done and over with. Your father was quiet, only not one that was comforting or easy. Faint sounds muffled and echoing both within the halls and outside them as you watched.

Your father spoke with more genuinity in his tone then you’d heard in years but you soon wished he didn’t bother. “I’m sorry about your son.” Instantly yours flickered away, to the side downcast as a heavy weight stole the breathe from your lungs and left only a burning that travelled down to the scar under your clothes. “I wish I could have told you sooner. Your mother and I know better then most, you didn’t deserve that.”

The force of your heart pounding made you want to throw up, the only hope that had been found in a long time for you both but a shattered memory that bled out just as fast. You didn’t look where you knew Jon was outside, close enough to hear. You didn’t even know if he knew. You didn’t want to know if he knew. You wanted no one to speak of it ever again and your father took your silence as that deceleration.

“You betrayed me. Siding with a crown that fought against my own.”

Peeling your eyes up to him finally, you leaned further into the table only to look away to nothing of important on the table once more. “What did you have in mind? Dragging me in front of your men up to your gods flames? Or have you found even a shred of mercy to have it be quicker then that?”

You saw not the blinding light of rage in the grey eyes somewhere behind. He and the King had come to an agreement already, but your acceptance of death made him uncomfortable and angry.

Stannis stood a little more with ease. “I’m not punishing you for those crimes. Or any of your crimes.”

Sharp eyes flickered up to him, a confused tint of rage that almost hissed along with your breathless tone. “Why?” He had no care for mercy when he was ready to stand against you and Robb. “You’ve never taken kindly to traitors, why change that now?”

Brows furrowing as he gave you a forming look of incredulity. “You’re my daughter.”

A hiss still seeping out only one thing came to your mind. “And Renly was your brother.” You could still recall the last day in front of him, begging with naivety for him not to declare King for himself. Not to do something so rash and stupid, and only having him throw back in your face that if you didn’t want the family torn apart you should’ve sided with them.

If it was guilt you caught, he smothered it just as fast as he grumbled out, “He denied my right as King, stole my bannermen, conspired to keep me off the throne. Tell me what is the penalty for treason under the law? What justice is there in letting him steal what was rightfully mine?”

You had tried for long not to believe such a thing but he didn’t make it easy. “Robb did too.” Trying to claim that was different, you cut him off with no care for how that looked. “It wasn’t different when you threatened to destroy us. Your grief over my death is not a forgivence for three years thinking you’d come for us one day.”

An aggravation slipped into his voice, bracing his hands on the chair in front of him similar to your own stance. “What is it you want me to do then, I can’t change the past or any mistakes I may have made. I don’t do this, any of this, to be cruel in intention. If the law is cruel, if our own duty is cruel, who are we to go against that?”

“I know half of what you’ve done was for what you think was right, but I also know the other half was only done because she demanded it so.” A sting in your eyes was at the sights and words haunting you from what whispered reached. “You aren’t a man who slaughters innocents, or burns people alive to appease some god a that woman whispered in your ear of. You were never that man until her.”

His eyes narrowed towards you, “She does what needs to be done, does what others aren’t willing to admit. I never asked for this, no more than I asked to be King. We do not chose our destiny-”

A flash of rage swam through your veins, palms slamming down onto the table with a bang with a biting anger so close to sorrow fighting for control in your throat. “Don’t speak to me about destiny. You had the gall to let that woman tell me of a future I’ll never have and stand in front of me now that I’ve lost all of it? You stand here and tell me this was all meant to happen this way, that everyone we’ve all lost was worth it just to get here?”

Not with rage which matched yours but as he stood there with a radiating feeling around him that was as tense while it was intertwining with yours. “We’re at war, we lose the people we love. That’s the sacrifice we have to make.” You shook, trying not to let it break but the water was spilling over and the glass begging to crack open. “Even when it’s our own. We don’t have to like it, but we have to accept it.”

A whisper all you could muster in case the sounds otherwise to high and break it. “You truly believe that? That we have to sacrifice the people we love, our families just to fight for some future of a god so few of you even have faith in? That even losing your children is worth what she speaks of?”

Your father thinking it was your own being referred to. Tone softening a bit as he found your glaring eyes. “Your son is gone, you can’t change that. I thought I lost you, but something brought you back for a reason and you need to accept that regardless if you don’t like it.”

It was a mistake letting it come out of your mouth, because as soon as it was spoken into the air there was no avoiding it. “And if it was Shireen?”

Stannis knew in an instant something was wrong, something as a horror painted over your eyes and your skin paled had him suddenly standing at a cliff’s edge of a nightmare. “If Shireen what?” You couldn’t breathe, or move. Stuck in that position as the world stopped spinning and all you could feel under your palms was the horribly smooth glide of a blade before a blazing fire in the snow had followed.

He called your name, but you didn’t look at him. Wanting only to flee or cry, likely both as the thoughts and feelings still fresh in your hands was as if you were there once more. Only it was worse, because you knew she never could be again. The fires in your mind was bright but you saw nothing of a god in them, only loss that was your fault.

Turning round the corridor, you tried to shake away your father’s new duty for you. Only repeating in your head as there was no escaping this fate, he’d drag you into this duty if he had to but your father knew better then to think you’d truly make any fuss.

The grim walls surrounding you were darker and more closing in then the previous, and the air was thick and heavy where there were there not windows flowing the wind through. But as you neared the room you were headed towards, you felt both a breeze and the sound that followed.

Voice a little more solid then last, two years making quite the difference you imagined as the gentle singing reached your ears. No doubt sitting by the window so the singing could be heard by whatever birds passed by it. Leaning against the open door, she continued to sing running her hands along a doll you recall having gotten for her.

It had been a while since you had visited her, her nameday rapidly approaching and yet you had not seen her since a little over two years. Dragonstone was easier to visit then the North and you had been on ships heading there countless times. You had only just reached your teens the last time, old enough to be trusted on your own for such journeys across the bay and still young enough that your duties were not quite your fathers yet.

That would change this time. Two years in Winterfell had done a number on your willingness to return to King’s Landing and this time you insisted on being here first. You needed something to occupy your mind after the final few months there had changed into.

Finally whispering into the afternoon air in a lull of her song. “Hey silly girl,”

Turning in an instant, she yelled your name and jumped up. Running for a hug as you met her half way, kneeling down to catch her as she all but lept into the final few feet between you. Both of you laughing with joyful grins as you both kept a tight hold.

Finally pulling back you held her at her arms, looking her with a mocking squint up and down before running a hand along her hair. “You’re going to be grow to be even prettier then the Queen at this rate.”

Huffing at you with annoyance, making you laugh even more as you kissed the top of her head. “You’re older then me, that makes you the pretty one.” Face twisting into a playful doubt and shake of your head that had her insist further. “It’s true, you look so pretty coming back from the North.”

You felt your heart soften a bit. It was why you didn’t like to visit her while departing King’s Landing, needing time to come down from the aggravation such a city caused, but the ease from the North still feeling the remaining trails of something like home. Standing up, you both moved to sit on her bed as she crawled to sit in the middle more.

Once more you ran a hand over her hair, moving strands to the lay behind her shoulder. “Well, I am just going to have to find a way to convince father to let you come with me one of these days, aren’t I?”

She nodded before hesitating, a little more dejected then before. “And mother.” Your eyes narrowed a bit in question as the girl looked away, like she was debating a secret to tell. “She says the North isn’t helping, that you are still too wild and that Lord Stark’s sons are a bad influence. Mother would never let me go.”

She never said it in so many words to you, but had made it clear she thought your attitude as too lively and quick when returning from there. This time was especially bad. Two years had truly made it feel like home and those in it. Chuckling you raised an eyebrow at her, “Being honest with ourselves, Shireen? I think there isn’t much mother does like whenever I come visit.”

Not even the age you were when first visiting Winterfell, she was too young to understand if you tried to tell her about it the way you wanted, you had no one here nor King’s Landing to discuss it with. Her eyes widened suddenly, “I made you something, come look.” Flipping onto her stomach she hurled half her body over soft surface to a small cupboard to the side of her bed, rifling through things to grab a piece of paper. Pulling it back, you turned to your stomach as she flipped it over.

Her drawing far better then the last one she included in a raven to you. She was unstoppable about sending things to you now that she knew how to write. A winter scene no doubt she tried to copy from one of her books, and in the middle were two stags, one smaller then the other and beside them was a large wolf bigger then the other two. The stags coloured with browns and yellowish golds and the wolf was a deep black that made it look menacing. You smirked at her, turning your head slightly. “Are you trying to warn me about something?”

She nudged you with a bashful smile and you nudged her back. “No, I thought about making it look like us but when I grow more I didn’t want to have to redo it, so I made us our house animals.” Pointing to the first taller stag, “That one is you. You’re fully grown already so I had to make me a bit smaller, but that’s okay it can just mean this one’s younger.” The second being smaller clearly her.

You nodded to the wolf, “So whose that?”

The little grin turned a bit shy, you tilting your head to the side to better look at her as she flickered between you and the drawing before settling on the drawing. A shrug she finally relented. “I can make a new one if it’s wrong but you said he has longer black hair. I didn’t mean to make him so scary looking, it just turned out that way.”

Were she not so innocent and so young you may have told her how ironic it was she made you this while you were away in Winterfell finding a new dynamic with the wolf in question. “I think he’d find it amusing you made him so scary and menacing.”

“You have to keep it a secret though, mother says you talk too much about him in your letters. Says you shouldn’t be so distracted with a boy.” The North in general were not suited to your mother, loud and charming in their own unique ways, some bold and brash that would not sit in her stomach well. “So I have to keep it until you leave, so you can take it with you and she’d never see it.”

Hiding back, you both stayed in that position whispering like misbehaving children. “Well, I’m not leaving for King’s Landing until after your name day. So, we have plenty of time to figure out how I am to smuggle it out. What do we think your onion knight would do?”

You didn’t want to think about how long he and your mother were talking with no sign of either of them. What on earth they could be saying to each other now that it was all out, but perhaps it wasn’t your business anymore. He didn’t react as much as you knew it crushed his heart but you had to be the one who did it. It was your hands the blood was spilt and stained too forever, but you couldn’t lie about it.

Talks back and forth between the Northern Houses now pledged to you, as well as the free folk who followed beside him, went back and forth but as you stood with your back against a stone wall, arms crossed as your eyes just glazed over the images and plans splayed out you knew you were being of no help.

You hadn’t even been allowed outside further then the overhands and balconies of the second story or the high peaks of the castle walls that were no escape but a painted mess. You were out of your depth, no knowledge anymore of the state of the Bolton’s army or what their strategy may look like. But more then that, all you could think of was that look on your fathers face.

Wishing it was just a desperate plot from two people who had no concept of what to do without Shireen between them, you knew better. You could see how that look behind his eyes was as in awe as he was cautious of his words. Telling him the truth that if you didn’t send that woman away you wouldn’t have the restraint later to not shove a blade through her. That all you could see was here lies.

“I can’t tell you what to believe for yourself, but I won’t follow it. How many more have to die before we find any true fate in this destiny she speaks of? How much more of this family do we have to lose. How much more do you and I even have left in us to give?” You still didn’t ask about Renly, maybe you didn’t want too. Didn’t want to hear what he was capable of doing to his own brother, but then, you were the one to wield the dagger yourself for her.

Perhaps you were as guilty as he was. Traitors to more then just each other because it was the only choice you saw, the only duty left in front of you.

Speaking low, in a rumble as he stepped back towards the other end of the table. “I saw a vision in the flames.” Slowly, your head rose up, peeling from it’s nonsense focus and following the path up to meet his eyes, as if recalling what should not be possible. It had been a very long time since you had recalled such an incident, but not with him. “A great battle in the snow, I saw it.”

Dreams were one but images in your minds eye were others, nowhere near sleep nor flames but they had been there all the same no matter how much you pushed them away, how much you tried to deny they were there. You could go the rest of your existence avoiding looking at it, but the scar along you felt as real as inhuman it was. Your eyes looked to the other, a strange pulse in your heart as you saw not an enemy.

Stepping forward, he braced his knuckles onto the surface leaning towards you in mimic, a knowing on his tongue that you know didn’t come from you. “And I know you saw that you raised him from the dead.” That freezing cold from your dreams swept over you but ran straight through your veins and down your spine. Eyes falling from his as you recalled how the marks felt on his cold corpse that very first time in horror.

Quietly murmuring your name, there was a genuinity in his face that was one you knew carried the truth of his conviction. “I never used to believe, but when you see it, when it’s right there in front of you. As real as these stone walls, how can you deny that you have a true purpose here?”

By the time Jon found you again he had spent much of the time planning that you had lost in your own head. If you listened closely, you could still hear her faint singing as you would always walking the halls of Dragonstone only to have it replaced with the hissing in your ear of words still haunting you the closer you came back to him.

“If you’re a lucky girl, I’ll find you a pack of real wolves to replace all your dead ones. Strip you right down and throw you in with them. We could all finally see our Queen in the North back where she belongs, just something for the wolves to fuck until I kill all of them too.”

When the true wolf came upon you, you almost jumped out of your skin. Jon moving to reach out and steady you, but you already had moved back a step with a gasping sigh and leaning back against the stone wall. Looking out into the thick of the snowy woods. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

You barley shrugged as he leaned back for himself beside you. Both arms crossed in front of your chests but his didn’t have any shake in it, unlike the one you were trying to hide. “Did we come to an agreement?”

Jon nodded, “We have. Lord Glover seems confident the Manderlys will give us a chance as well as the Hornwood’s.” Only nodding being any indicator you heard him, your eyes were trained on the sun lowering itself to hide behind the trees. “It was strange they said. Having me be the one in charge and you not there at all.”

You shrugged again. Something in you was mentally drained and you just did not have the energy to talk about leadership in that moment. “And my father?”

From the side you could tell Jon had turned in place to look at you, still leaning as you were but his sights now only on you ignoring him in favour of the setting sun. Voice rasping out your name gently wanting you to just turn and look at him. But you couldn’t. You didn’t want to see the colour in anyone’s eyes right now save they fade away.

“Come on, I’m patching you up. Now.” Not bothering to wait, Jon encouraged you forward with him and you just didn’t bother arguing. The bandage was soaked through and blood drying thick by that point and you knew it wouldn’t be a pleasant sight.

Never questioning where he was heading, it was always like that with him. You’d follow him anywhere he’d lead you and even in moments now where it felt like the world was between you you still managed to just trust where he was taking you. The voice in your head though, he you’d fight everytime. Only make it worse as you wondered what else could he have planned and yet it was always worse then the last.

It wasn’t until Jon already had you sitting down, him sideways next to you, sitting a few things out did you notice he was far more cleaned up then before. You truly hated how easy he made it at any time to admire him. Gesturing towards your outer layer, “I need that off.”

Looking down you swallowed that feeling before starting to wince as you slowly pulled it off, only to feel flushed in an instant as Jon swiftly reached over to pull it off without any effort, only to feel winded as he also pulled off the softer long sleeve underneath where there was only enough material on left to cover your chest. But he only put them to the side, reaching back to peel off the bandage.

Trying your best to look forward instead of the soft glint in his eyes towards you, right now it might break you and you just didn’t want to deal with that. Not now, not here. “Is your quiet signifying good news or does it look infected?”

You missed the small shake of his head, but you heard the deep exhale. “No, it looks like it should be fine if I stitch it up now.” Turning and gathering what he brought over, you felt the burn of the slightest bit of water, gently running across to clean it enough for Jon to see better. Pausing as he glanced up to you, “Ten years ago you would’ve already complained about that.”

Smiling a bit, you raised an eyebrow. “Ten years ago we were still all teenagers chasing each other through the wolfswood.” The smile on your lips small, but enough that it brightened the grey in Jon’s eyes.

You did hiss slightly as he first pushed the needle through, but didn’t move otherwise. Collecting yourself as he continued on. “If I’m remembering correctly, me and Robb were the ones doing the chasing.”

Neither of you noticed in that moment, but it was the first time Robb had been brought up between you both that didn’t skip to pain or distant agony. Mentioned in passing with a fond smile on both at the memories alone and none of the blood came forth in that moment.

“Pretty sure that was the point. See if I could hold out until midnight and not get caught.”

With each wince or hiss, Jon’s eyes flew up to your face but saw none of the unfamiliar points of agony that used to come with cleaning such injuries. And a little more heavy something weighed in his chest at how you didn’t notice you were so used to it.

His hands were large and rough, yet such a gentle touch as he continued to stitch the sliced skin together. Much like the tone of his voice sounding as a tender rumble despite the husking deep thickness of his accent shining through. “And how’d that go for you? Not getting caught.” You just rolled your eyes playfully as he looked back between you and his work. “Hard to believe we just came home that night, and no one suspected anything was different.”

You never forgot it, the way he gained the upper hand and had your back against a tree so you couldn’t run only to press himself against you in a kiss. A kiss that somehow led all the way to right this very moment together. “Hard to believe there used to be a time you didn’t make me nervous.” Your eyes both flickering to the side to peek a glance at the other as you turned them to the floor. “Though I always wondered if you simply got a kick out of making me nervous around you for fun”

“I did.” You’d turn to him were it not to jostle his steady hands still very carefully sewing the wound together. “It was cute, that out of the two of us, it was you who was always nervous. Always a bit shy whenever I’d go to kiss you after. Not that much has changed.”

You didn’t look past at the memory, trying to look forward. Not wanting to base whatever careful balancing act it was you held with Jon at an impasse, for a night you both had not repeated. The other night, that first on Bear Island came the closest, but he had directly told you he wouldn’t kiss you. So how would he truthfully knew if it still made you nervous or not?

For a while it was just quiet. Just your shaking breaths every now and again before Jon had finally finished clearing up your arm, and wrapping it fresh. You weren’t sure why it slipped out, but there was no stopping once your mouth betrayed your thoughts. “I thought of you sometimes. When Ramsay would...it wasn’t always but sometimes the only way I could cope was to focus on something else..and I often ended up thinking about you.”

Your name came out in a husk, his eyes narrowed as he looked at you. “How often did he hurt you?”

Trying to recall, the time was varied in your mind. Unsure of how long you were really at the Dreadfort locked way. “He only started when the Lannisters had officially made him a Bolton. Around the time they retook Moat Cailin, so..whenever that was. It started then. Only got worse, made it worse for myself ,honestly. Fighting back as much as I did. Think he actually enjoyed when I put up a fight.”

That feeling of the cool air on your skin as you rode into Winterfell that paired so ugly with how horrific of a journey it was to get back. It only got worse when you were given an actual room to live in that he could visit whenever he wanted.

Jon was deathly silent and you dared not look at him. “Sometimes he’d drag Theon in..force him to watch. Would tell me I was lucky he.. otherwise he would’ve forced him to help.” Looking down your nails dug into whatever skin on your fingers it could find but the pain served no distraction from the nightmares.

“They took everything I still had with Robb and tainted all of it, Ramsay plastering his nightmares all over it like this was all I was ever worth after Robb. As if I was supposed to feel worthless without him, not be able to think of him without thinking of how Ramsay came and ruined all of it..the only thing that they didn’t ruin was you. You were the one thing still intact enough that I could escape to when it got too much.” You inhaled a shaking breathe that followed with tears, no point in pretending they weren’t there, or hide them. Jon always caught onto your state, always knew what you were trying to hide in your feelings.

Shrugging with a fake lightness in your eyes that played on your lips as if to placate whatever was behind you within him. “Sometimes it feels like I’m now just ruining you in the same way. That all this I dragged into you is going to stand out more then...then..”

“More then what? More then how much you mean to me?” You rolled your eyes, not wanting him to do the same placating but Jon had none of it. Moving to crouch in front of you forcing you to look in his eyes, somehow raging yet flashing of a softness. “You didn’t deserve that, any of that. No one does.” A glint of doubt in your eyes and Jon reached up to cup both your cheeks in his hands. “I know you wish you could just be fine, but you’re not. You’re not fine, darling. And I can’t seem to get through that beautiful head of yours enough to convince you that it’s okay to not be alright.”

You smiled weakly, and in a risk of your heart, one hand of yours gently reached up. Wrapping around one of his wrists, which only made him hold tighter and lean into you closer. “I was always stubborn, wasn’t I?”

Thumbs running along your cheeks, you could see he wanted to be angry, wanted to be furious but also found none of that red when you looked into his eyes. Only a love that was as strong as it was the day you two left one another on the Kingsroad with a screaming in your hearts that parting was more then sweet sorrow, but blood and horror. “You’re also clever, quick in a fight, and I know behind all this you’re someone who inspires these people. But, you’ve also been through hell, and it’s just going to wind up killing you if you don’t let someone in, let me in.”

Pushing the ends of the fabric around his wrist you gently ran a thumb over his pulse, eyes almost slipping closed at the reassurance. “I don’t know if I have it in me anymore, Jon. I don’t know if they’ve left any kind of a leader I once was in me. I don’t know where I fit in here anymore, or where I’m supposed to be.”

Leaning forward, Jon pressed his forehead to yours murmuring your name as one hand readjusted against your cheek and the other gently ran along your hair at the back of your head. “You don’t have to always be the one carrying everything yourself. If you don’t think you can stand on your own, that’s okay but I want you by my side. You have to let me protect you, let me take care of you, if you don’t think you can do it yourself.”

Heart wanting to melt away in your chest almost crumbling to dust. “Why are you still so sweet to me, after everything I’ve put you through?”

Hesitating in his own right not to kiss you, he gently ran his nose along the length of yours, nudging you until you leaned more into his touch properly. Letting him cup the back of your head to stay closer then you were before. “We gave each other up once, and we both ended up dead. But you’ve been given a new chance, you gave me a new chance and this time, I need to be the one to protect the woman I love. Because you belong with me, and I’m not giving you up to anyone else ever again.”

Pulling you to your feet, Jon only let you go long enough to change where his hands sat, pulling you into his chest. Your hands spared no time wrapping up around the back of his neck. Jon’s were split between holding the back of your own head into his neck so he could lean down to nuzzle his own into yours, and the other wrapped tightly around your waist keeping you both close.

Only the calming of each other’s breathing sounded in the air. Every single thing outside of this small moment could be entirely ruined, a horror waiting for you both as soon as you left this room. But as long as you both stood there in the others arms it felt like maybe you both weren’t so beaten down and broken.

Jon for his part however, knew a striking hot rage was building and the closer you all got to Winterfell the more he knew it was going to be likely impossible to properly contain it.

Especially when the next day’s early morning sun rose and arriving with it, a vicious note of terrorizing threat towards Jon for not giving you back. Laying out the vile, bloody thing’s he’d do to you in front of him before killing him just to prove his “bride” didn’t belong to Jon. But it was what came with the letter that was the beginning of an urgent nightmare that no longer could take it’s time getting there.

The bloody, rotting, decapitated head of a black direwolf.

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

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 2 months

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Game of Thrones Fic List

��= tw:dark content

🍑= smut

📚= series/multi-part

💌= requested

For Whom the Bell Tolls (Margaery Tyrell x Baratheon!Reader)

A glance and a sassy comment. The more time you two spent alone together, the less of a sister you became to one another. It wasn’t your intention to fall in love with the wife of your brother. You had never really felt bad about it when Maragery was married to Joffrey, but now that she was wed to your sweet Tommen. . . You couldn’t do that to your sweet lion.

Between Saints and Sinners (Sandor Clegane x Reader)

It had been years since you last saw Sandor Clegane. Years since you had last been in employment at Lord Baelish’s brothel.

A Stark Bride (Aegon Targaryen i x Stark!Reader)

Aegon Targaryen reduced your father, Torrhen Stark, to a mere lord. The Targaryen conqueror had taken the title of king for himself. You wanted to depise them, those beautiful Targaryens with their lavender eyes and silver tresses. But they were beautiful. Terrifying and beautiful just like their dragons.

Promises (Oberyn Martell x Reader) 🖤

Having witnessed the brutal murder of your family, your uncle Oberyn is the only one to fend off your nightmares and the only one you could ever feel an attachment to.

Shedding Skin (Arthur Dayne x Targaryen!Reader)

You wouldn't let your brother Rhaegar humiliate you. No. Faking your own death, you travel to Dorne and there shed your dragon skin to become a new person. A happier person.

A Touch of Gold (Margaery Tyrell x Stark!Reader)

If Renly was to have a lover, then Margaery wanted one as well. And she decided that it just had to be the visiting (y/n) Stark.

Gold and Red (Jaime Lannister x Reader) 🍑

How could you bring yourself to have sex with your child husband? Jaime, however, was a full grown man.

Stupid, Pretty Little Things 🖤

She was the only gift Joffrey wanted for his name day. And Joffrey would be damned if anyone forbade him to what was his.

Targaryen Daughters

After so long staying safely hidden in the privacy of a Sept, you discover your younger sister Daenerys is very well alive. Alive and with three dragons.

A Good, Mean Dog (Sandor Clegane x Baratheon!Reader) 📚

The Princess and the Hound. What a story that would be

Horns That Hold A Crown (Rhaegar Targaryen x Baratheon!Reader)

The only daughter of Steffon Baratheon, and to Aerys you were th eonly suitable bride for his son Rhaegar. Your previokus engagement to Ned Stark was broken. Now you found yourself the bride of a dragon instead that of a wolf.

Ruined Hallelujah (Margaery Tyrell x Baratheon!Reader)

You had expected such a move from Robert, maybe even Stannis, but never from your brother Renly. He was well aware of your affair with Margaery, even supported it. Yet he had married you off to Robb Stark, King in the North.

Misfit (Daenerys Targaryen x Greyjoy!Reader) 🖤

Nightmares, your nightmares were filled with the blazing symbol of a kraken. As you travel with your siblings to Meereen you hope Queen Daenerys would be willing to help you in defeating Euron.

One True Queen (Rhaegar Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader)📚

What he had done was the greatest insult to you. One that you thought he would never do. You knew he loved you with all his heart, that was certain. You were his sister and his wife. However, that all changed when he took Lyanna Stark as his second wife.

Knight in Blue and Red (Rhaegar Targaryen x Tully!Reader)

You wanted to be in charge of Riverrun when your father died, but because you were the third and youngest daughter of Hoster Tully that was highly impossible. You would show him. Show him that you would be a better successor than your brother Edmure.

Belladonna (Young Robert Baratheon x Reader)

With the death of his father, Robert Baratheon found himself the young lord of Storm's End. A new lordship requires a wife.

Dragon (Daenerys Targaryen x Reader)📚

She had trusted her Unsullied with her life. That was why when one attacked her with a knife she doesn't have him killed. Instead Daenerys wants to get down to the problem. Only when she removes the Unsullied's helmet she is met with the face of a young girl.

A Lion’s Vow (Jaime Lannister x Stark!Reader)💌

This game the both of you played was your only real entertainment in the mess that was the Red Keep. Knowing it’s true nature, your father attempted to keep you close to his side. Reminding you not to trust anyone easily, especially those that belonged to the House of the Lion.

A Mouse in a Lion’s Den (Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader)📚

A little mouse surrounded by ferocious lions? It didn't look to be a good situation, even if those lions happened to be your family.

Exiled (Arthur Dayne x Reader)💌

You run into Ser Arthur Dayne in Essos. Along with a dark haired, gray eyed child.

Glow (Daenerys Targaryen x Reader)

Why she had taken a liking to you among all the others she had freed, you would never know. You had been a personal whore for one of the masters and had gotten pregnant. There were many others like you. Your story was nothing special, but Dany had found you worthy enough to be her close companion. There were even times when you thought that maybe you could be more than her companion.

The Doe That Chases the Hound (Sandor Clegane x Baratheon!Reader)

Normally in a hunt it was a hound’s duty to chase down deer. You went against the natural order of things. This time it was the doe who sought after the hound.

Crimson Lady (Ramsay Bolton x Bolton!Reader, Sansa Stark x Bolton!Reader) 🖤

Sansa should have known better. Of course she'd be every part of a Bolton as her brother Ramsay was.

Loveless (Rhaegar Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader) 🖤💌

There was nothing Rhaegar could do about your sudden engagement. Try as he might, he couldn’t persuade Aerys to marry you to him. It didn’t matter that he proclaim his undying love for you. Didn’t matter how you got on your knees in front of the iron throne and begged him to reconsider. Instead of mercy, the Mad King simply laughed at you.

Just For You (Ramsay Bolton x Reader) 🍑💌

The cruel Ramsay Bolton has an unknown side to him. Not just for anyone though. Only for the maid whom he loves to taunt.

From the Ashes (Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader)📚

A year has passed since (y/n) and her brother Jaime fled from King's Landing to the vast and foreign world of Essos.

Mine First, Mine Last, Mine Even in the Grave (Ramsay Bolton x Reader) 🍑

Even at such a young age, Ramsay was proving a difficult and willful child. He was somewhat twisted in nature that sometimes disturbed his mother. However once he laid eyes on the little baby, he immediately grew attached to her.

Birth of Dragons (Aegon i Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader) 📚

It wasn’t fair of him to choose a favorite between his sisters. Fearless Visenya, playful Rhaenys and loving (y/n). Above them all he secretly placed (y/n) close to his heart.

The Most Impossible Battle (Robert Baratheon x Targaryen!Reader) 🍑

Robert hated all Targaryens. Wise words from those close to him though make Robert Baratheon give in to the idea of taking (y/n) Targaryen as his bride.

Wrap Around (Oberyn Martell x Martell!Reader) 📚🖤

Oberyn was beside himself at the return of his baby sister (y/n). For a year she had been off in Essos, experiencing the rest of the world outside of the safety of Sunspear. Now she was returning to Dorne. Returning to Oberyn.

By Any Other Name (Margaery Tyrell x Reader)

Another Life (Rhaegar Targaryen x Stark!Reader)

Lyanna watches Jon from atop of the courtyard's parapet, her eyes crinkling with pride as she watches Jon best Theon Greyjoy at the dance of swords. Every victory Jon made resulted in him outgrowing the label of bastard. He was so much more than a bastard of Winterfell. Not even Catelyn saw him as such. Many were so shocked when the news came that Ned had brought back his bastard one day. In fact Cat had shown up at Winterfell by his side as he held the infant in his arms, for she was one of three that knew the truth about Jon Snow.

What We Sow (Theon Greyjoy x Greyjoy!Reader) 🍑🖤💌

This was his home, a place where the salt of the sea and the cries of seagulls were a constant presence and where you were. Waiting so patiently as always. His queen, his sister, his wife. He'd been dreaming of the moment when he'd be reunited with you after so long.

Omission (Theon Greyjoy x Stark!Reader)💌🍑

Robb wasn't being dramatic when he claimed your change toward Theon. From innocent children to teenagers, everything happened so fast that you weren't really able to comprehend what was going on with your own head. When Theon first arrived to your family, you were a small child. You and Robb grew attached to him immediately. For so long you saw him as a brother. Then it just stopped the moment you bled.

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in-my-feels-probably · 1 year

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

- thank you <3

Whatever May Come

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

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

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

Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even if he had to do it without you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?”

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

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

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

“Hush. Pay attention.”

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lady Catelyn knew it, too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N,” he murmured, dazed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No–”

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

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

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

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

“What shall we do with her, sire?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m hearing you. Where do we go?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Robb cut down every man in your path that night.

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He cried himself to sleep, nearly making himself sick.

—

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

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

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

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

Unlike Robb, you could hardly leave your chambers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There. Are we ready?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, my love. I know.”

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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jimblejamblewritings · 2 years

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snow falls hot | part 1.

Summary: (Y/N) Snow isn’t a Snow at all. She’s a Targaryen— Rhaegar’s child. Taken in by the Starks, she leads her life as another on of Ned’s bastards. Will she be able to live in Westeros comfortably? More importantly, does she have any ambition to see herself one day on the Iron Throne?

Warnings: in this part none but this is game of thrones so… specific parts will get specific warnings though

Pairing: robb stark x reader

Word Count: 5k

(Series Masterlist)

“Lady Stark, your son is—”

A very young Robb Stark ran into the bed chamber before the maid could finish her sentence.

“Mother—” Robb stopped as he watched you and Catelyn Stark scramble to hide what you were doing.

“(Y/N)?”

Catelyn Stark grabbed a young five year old Robb. “You must swear to not tell anyone what you saw, Robb. On (Y/N)’s life it is important you never say a word.”

That was the day Robb Stark learned (Y/N) Snow was not a Snow, not his father’s second bastard child along with his brother Jon. That the honorable Ned Stark didn’t sleep with the two whores at a brothel one night when they had one a major battle and ended up getting them both pregnant like he said he did— one of the women having darker skin than they were used to seeing in Westeros.

That was the day Robb learned the two bastards didn’t share the same name day, you were born several months— almost an entire year before Jon. You weren’t even a Northerner. You were a Targaryen. The last surviving Targaryen, only living daughter of Rhaegar Targaryen and a woman that no one knew if she was still alive. Rhaegar knew his fate was sealed when the rebellion of Robert Baratheon started over Lyanna Stark. He could do nothing for Elia and his other children but he went back for you. You were hidden away in the Tower of Joy where Rhaegar was keeping Lyanna Stark.

At his dying sister’s command, Ned didn’t harm the child but took her with him. A raven was sent to Rhaegar’s last known relative, Maester Aemon at the Wall. The Wall was no place for a child. Castle Black couldn’t take care of a baby. So it was agreed between him, his wife, and Master Aemon that since a babe was not responsible for the acts of her father— Rhaegar never even earned a chance to rule the Seven Kingdoms, you would be raised as Ned’s second bastard.

No one could understand how Catelyn had love for one bastard but couldn’t bring herself to love Jon. Winterfell assumed it was because until Sansa, you were the only girl. The only problem the Starks ever had was the blonde hair, undeniably Targaryen. It was fine when you were a toddler, but as you reached true childhood questions would be asked. Maester Luwin scoured the books of Winterfell, any knowledge he had from the Citadel to find a solution. The strong dyes for their cloths, the only thing that could stain the Targaryen hair and keep it stained for good.

“What are you doing to her hair?” Robb asked. He watched as your blonde hair turned into the famous Stark black color.

Septa Mordane smiled at your finished needlepoint. You were dismissed leaving a happy Sansa and very annoyed Aria to continue their work. You walked through the courtyard of Winterfell until you found the Stark boys. Robb gave you a smile as you approached. The two of you were practically twins, two sides of the same coin. The only person Robb could never beat was Jon— you and Robb might have shared your secret but you and Jon had the bond of bastard children. Especially with how Catelyn treated him, Jon needed someone growing up that was always on his side whether he was right or not. You sat on top of a barrel, letting little Rickon sit on your lap, as you watched Bran practice archery. Jon and Robb laughed when Bran missed; you tried to hide your snickering behind Rickon.

“Go on, Bran. Father’s watching,” Jon encouraged. “And your mother.”

This time you didn’t laugh when Bran missed, you could see how he was becoming increasingly frustrated. Robb and Jon made no attempts to hide their amusement. You reached over Jon to hit Robb for laughing— an indignant look crossed his face as he realized you didn’t scold Jon for laughing.

“And which one of you was a marksman at ten?” Ned shouted down to his children from where he and Catelyn were watching up above. “Try once more Bran.”

“Loosen up your bow arm,” Robb offered up the advice.

You cheered when an arrow zipped past you and landed on the bullseye until you noticed Bran’s arrow was still notched in his bow. You looked behind him to see Arya. She smiled in surprise that she had actually made it. You laughed as Bran threw down his bow angrily and started to chase Arya. The mood of the courtyard was cheerful until a messenger ran in.

“Lord Stark! They’ve caught the deserter.”

You scooped up Rickon. The rest of the boys would go with Ned; but, an execution was no place for a six year old. You released Rickon to his mother and went to saddle your horse. Ned walked over to you with a raised brow.

“I’m going with you and the boys, and don’t say I can’t because I’m a woman or lie that I’m too young. I’m almost Robb’s age, almost an adult. Jon just turned my age and you let him go. Even Bran is going and he is ten, Papa.”

Ned smiled— a glint in his eyes. You only called him Papa when you wanted something, usually opting for Father or Lord Stark. You pulled your shoulders back to try and appear larger. The defiance of a Targaryen was plain as day to him. Ned grabbed your saddle from your arms and strapped it around the horse without another word. With excitement, you raced out of the stables to where the boys were— Bran on a pony instead of a large horse like the rest of you.

The deserter was brought out to a field far away from the castle grounds of Winterfell. You all hopped off of your horses. The deserter began spewing what you could only describe as nonsense as he talked of white walkers and dead things coming back to life. While you heard Jon tell Bran not to look away because Ned was watching, you quickly realized an execution was not a place for you despite wanting to prove your place in Winterfell.

The large, almost too large, sword in Ned’s hand started its downward path. You tucked your face into the boy closest to you, Theon. He gently rubbed your back at your sharp intake of breath and patted you twice when it was over. You made a point not to gasp as you saw the head separated from his body. It was over. There was nothing more for you all in the field and it was time to head back.

“What is that?”

The others squinted at what you were pointing to so far away from them. You always had the keenest eyes and could spot something from a mile away. The object in the road you had been pointing to was a dead stag upon closer inspection. Everyone got off their horses, following Ned’s lead because he wanted to see what had killed the creature. It didn’t take too long. Theon called everyone over to a large and very dead direwolf. There was part of the stag’s antler and it was apparent both creatures ended up not surviving their encounter with each other.

Barking drew everyone’s attention and Theon held up a pup. Without much thought, you held out your arms. Theon obliged and dropped the pup into your arms. The older men were debating what to do— wanting to end the pups now. Give them a mercy kill instead of them dying from the cold and starvation. You looked at Robb and Jon with large, sad eyes as you bounced the pup in your arms. Jon looked at the wolf pup in your arms and then at the others he could see.

“Lord Stark,” he spoke up. “There seem to be five wolves. You have five children, trueborn.”

Jon quickly added the last part after seeing Bran and Robb’s faces. They didn’t like when you and Jon separated yourselves from the rest of them. You thought it was pointless, especially with the way you looked. At least Jon closer resembled them— and actually was Ned’s son.

“A direwolf is not a pet,” one of the men said.

Ned and the other men thought about Jon’s words more and debated. You brought them all to your attention as you yelped when the direwolf bit your hand. You assured them that you were okay and they laughed a bit at Theon’s comment about the irony of a direwolf not taking to a Stark.

“It’s because I’m a Snow. I think this one wants you instead.”

You dropped the direwolf in Robb’s arms where it seemed to calm down greatly. Ned conceded that the wolf pups could come back with you all. The pups were scooped up, a smaller sixth one found underneath the others and given to Jon. He tried to hand you the pup but you shook your head.

“Are you sure? I don’t hav—”

“It’s fine Jon. The direwolf is yours.”

Ned smiled as he watched the two of you and patted your shoulder. His hand guiding you through the forest. You broke from his grasp and before the others could open their mouths, your skirts were in your hands as you ran a little bit. With a grin you turned back to face them. The men gasped in a sort of disbelief. There was another pup in your arms, jet black that it blended with the shadows of the forest floor.

“Mine.”

That was the only word you muttered not that there were any protests. The other Stark children were overjoyed when you returned with the direwolves. Each claimed one for their own, each wolf with a unique name.

“What will you name yours?” Sansa asked as Lady sat at her feet.

“I don’t know. How about you name her?”

If her smile could grow larger, it would. Sansa felt special whenever you asked for her advice. It made her feel good that her older sister needed her. Sansa thought deeply about a name that would fit both you and your direwolf. She decided on Godswood after the place that you were most often found in Winterfell.

“Godswood, let’s go.”

The pup, already quickly growing, followed behind you. The king was coming and everyone was getting ready. You were going to give Godswood a bath so she was presentable. This was your least favorite day as you stood next to Jon and Theon in the line behind the trueborn Starks. Every time you were near Robert Baratheon, you were worried that something would give you away. Nothing should have set him or anyone else off but it still made you nervous. Robb moved to stand as much in front of you as he could without it looking like he was hiding you on purpose. Catelyn nodded proudly at her eldest son.

It was better when the formalities had ended. A large feast was the perfect time to let loose without any qualms. A drunk Robert wouldn’t look twice your way. The Starks sat at the high table at the end of the hall with Robert and Cersei watching the party in front of them.

You weren’t at the same table as your siblings, being a bastard, but you were seated fairly close. Despite the separation, you weren’t lonely at all— switching between laughing with the family at your table and exchanging faces with your siblings. The music picked up and you and Theon were the first up. The whole of Winterfell cheered as the two of you wildly spun around the room and, before you knew it, everyone was up on their feet.

“That child is loved by all of the North,” King Robert said as he watched Robb tap Theon on the shoulder to switch places. “Have you found her a suitor?”

“She’s a Snow,” Ned started. “It isn’t exactly easy.”

Robert thought. “We should strengthen our houses nonetheless. Sansa and Joffrey, Arya and Tommen, Bran and Myrcella. (Y/N) should have a place too.”

“Her place is in Winterfell.”

“Robb and Rickon have Winterfell. Is she to be in her brothers’ keep forever? She’s a Stark to you in everything but name… there’s our answer.”

Ned, Catelyn, and Cersei’s eyes wandered to where Robert had stared. In place of Robb was Jaime Lannister, his hand momentarily leaving your waist as he spun you under his arm. The two women almost choked on their drink.

“Absolutely not. You want her to be with the Kingslayer?” Ned asked.

“Is she not young, Robert?” Cersei asked, Catelyn nodding frantically in response.

“You were younger than her when betrothed to me. Your brother hasn’t taken up a wife, he’s too married to his title to care about the title of another. A Snow is a Snow but that one is a Stark and it’ll do him good to be attached to one. Besides, now the Lannisters have a tie here as well under your own banner. Be grateful.”

There was no point arguing more. Robert was now annoyed with Cersei that anything Ned and Catelyn said would not make a difference. Instead the couple shared worried looks before returning back to the scene in front of them. You were smiling largely as Jaime attempted to keep up with the fast pace dancing of the North.

“I think you’re doing a wonderful job, Sir Jaime.”

“I think you flatter me Lady Snow.”

You thanked him for the dance and left to find the one Stark you hadn’t seen the whole night. The night was cold and the slight wind bit at your face as you searched for Jon. Your Uncle Benjen rode off on his horse as you rounded the corner. You could hear the voices of Jon and Tyrion as you got closer. For once, Jon didn’t look happy to see you.

“Lady Stark thinks it inappropriate for one bastard to attend but has no problem letting another.”

You didn’t say anything back, instead choosing to sit on the fence next to where Tyrion had been standing. Jon was angry and he needed to vent. Even against you, you were always on his side. Tyrion eyed you, noting your choice to let Jon be upset. You didn’t appear sad one bit and he found himself wanting to defend. The two of them continued to talk and you continued to sit quietly.

“It doesn’t matter, anyway. None of it matters when I take the Black.”

You jumped up from your spot on the fence to approach him.

“You’re doing what? You can’t. You and I are children of Winterfell forever. I won’t let you leave me, I command that you don’t.”

Jon looked at you with sad eyes. He pulled you in for a hug, a quick kiss pressed to your hairline. He had made up his mind and nothing you could say would change it. You tried not to seem angry as you left Jon’s arms. Even in the morning, you were still upset as you and Godswood took a walk around the grounds.

“He’s an idiot, Godswood. A death wish. That’s all Jon has been after since we were seven, I swear. Summer?”

Bran’s direwolf ran up to you, barking madly. You and Godswood followed at Summer’s heels. Your screams echoed as you saw Bran lying there in the dirt, not moving. You scooped him up and ran into the castle shouting for Ned or Maester Luwin or anyone that was close enough to listen. It took them hours to pull you from Bran’s side even after Maester Luwin assured you that he would live. It wasn’t until you were reminded that you had to pack for your own journey with the other girls to King’s Landing that you left Bran’s room.

“Father?” You greeted Ned who had knocked on your door.

He entered with a small chest. Locking the door behind him, Ned set down the chest on the bed and unlocked it. He pulled back the layer of fabric and furs to reveal two large round stones. Carefully picking one up, Ned placed it in your hands.

“Lyanna said this was left for you and for… that you would know what to do when the time came.”

“What are they?”

“Fossils of dragon’s eggs. Your father left them for you.”

You stroked the stony egg and placed it back in the trunk before locking it. Giving Ned a hug, you whispered a thank you. It was hard for him to say anything about Rhaegar— you assumed it was because of what he did to Lyanna. In a last minute decision, when Ned had left the room, you took the egg fossils from the trunk and placed the fur they were wrapped in inside of your saddle bag.

Morning came and you spent it eating breakfast in Robb’s room— Catelyn would have had a fit if she knew you all had taken to eating in Robb’s room. Of course Sansa was eating in the hall, like a proper person. And Arya was nowhere to be found but neither was Jon so it was easily assumed they were together. So it was just you, Robb, Theon, and little Rickon eating the dry, plain, and hot breakfast of the North.

“I can’t believe you’re going with them,” Theon commented.

You shrugged.

“Father won’t tell me why. I suppose they want to make me a lady in waiting, Sansa will be married to Joffrey after all. It would do her well to have me with her.”

Robb made a gruff of disapproval. “I don’t like you or Sansa anywhere near that prince.”

Theon nodded in agreement. You all finished breakfast and left to where the traveling party had gathered outside. Reluctantly, Rickon allowed you to set him down on the ground. Theon hugged you tightly and let go with a nod of his head. Robb removed his large fur cloak and wrapped it around you.

“If you find King’s Landing too warm, send a raven. I’ll personally ride down and come get you myself, just say the word. I promise I’ll be there.”

Robb let go of you after you nodded in promise you would write to him. Years ago, after seeing the two of you as close as two people could possibly be, Ned considered telling the truth. Not that you were a Targaryen but that you weren’t his. Even Catelyn agreed, the two of them considered revealing you had no relation in order to promise you to Robb. He couldn’t remember what had caused them to delay and decide not to say anything but now he regretted it. Because you would be in Winterfell with a boy that knew your secret and could protect you instead of headed to King’s Landing to be with a man that was responsible for the death of more than one of your family members.

Instead of taking the carriage with Cersei, her children, Sansa, and Arya, you rode outside with the others. Robb lifted you onto your horse. Ned watched his eldest son squeeze your hand before letting go and stepping back. The ride felt too short as you already approached the fork in the road— one path to King’s Landing, the other to the Wall and Castle Black.

It was too soon to say goodbye to Uncle Benjen and Jon but you found that you had to. Quick goodbyes were given to Tyrion and Benjen while Ned talked to Jon. Even though it was best to stick to the schedule, none of the party dared to interrupt you and Jon’s moment.

“You aren’t allowed to die out there,” you said causing Jon to huff out a laugh.

“I will try not to.”

“I’m serious. The only thing allowed to kill you is time. I’ll kill you myself if I’ve found out you died. You come back to me Jon Snow, okay?”

Jon nodded and grabbed your arm— the best he could do for a hug when you both were on top of horses. You brought your horses closer. Fishing into your saddle bag, you took out the small bundle of fur holding one of the egg fossils and placed it in Jon’s saddle bag.

“What is it?”

“I wrote you a letter… you must promise to burn it after you read it.”

“What is—”

“Promise me, Jon.”

“I promise.”

Jon lifted the fur a little to see the egg in his bag and the letter right under it. He looked at it in confusion and then up at you.

“Thank you for the rock?”

“I just felt like you should have it. Father gave me two of them, there are only two of them in the world. I don’t know, I just wanted you to have the other. It feels like it belongs to you.”

“And you have the other?”

You nodded and patted your own bag. “It’s our gift only we have, no one else.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t give it to Robb then.”

“Us bastards have to stick together.”

That earned laughter from Jon. “This isn’t farewell, just goodbye. I promise you will see me again. Goodbye, Lady Snow.”

“Goodbye, Lord Snow.”

You watched Jon and Benjen’s horses stalk down the path headed towards Castle Black— his direwolf, Ghost, keeping pace next to him. You led your horse back to the group. With a smile to the others inside the carriage, you moved forward in front of everyone else.

“Do you know where you’re going girl?” Robert called out.

“Is the path to the South not just this straight line, Your Majesty?”

Robert’s hearty laugh at your response sent the others into laughter. Four of the knights pushed in front of you to lead the way. You stared out at the lands of the North until a horse and its rider, Jaime Lannister, started to walk next to you.

He reached out a hand and you almost pulled back when his fingers seemed to get closer— the Kingslayer was well known to you. But instead of pulling back, you let him brush his fingers against your face— more in shock at the action to begin with. Robert watched in satisfaction at what seemed to be the start of a connection, Ned watched with a frown on his face.

“You’ve been crying. Is that why you’ve pulled so far ahead?”

“I was hoping no one would notice.”

“They wanted me to bring you back closer to the carriage where it’s safer Lady Snow… if you aren’t done crying I guess I could stay up here with you. Robert can’t protest much to your safety.”

“I don’t know whether to thank you Sir Jaime or wonder if that was an insult.”

“What are the tears for? Most are excited to escape the North.”

“The only family I know is up here.”

“You seem dull up here in the cold. I heard your mother was from Dorne, isn’t the South more your speed?”

“The cold keeps me aware. I get too comfortable in the heat.”

“What is wrong with comfort?”

“Nothing. I just find it’s not something I seem to be afforded at the moment.”

“I don’t suppose you’re going to give me anything more?”

You stopped looking at Jaime and returned to looking at the North that you were slowly leaving behind. It was the same routine for days, much to Ned’s dismay. You would ride right behind the four knights, next to Jaime and then return to Ned and the other Starks when it was time to rest. The camp had approached the most prominent stop on the way to King’s Landing, the Crossroads Inn.

Everyone broke off to do their own thing. You watched Arya run off with the butcher’s boy whose name you were sure you heard that morning but couldn’t remember now— both of them carrying large wooden swords. Out of the corner of your eye, Joffrey took Sansa’s hand and the two of them started off. You scoffed at the sight.

“You could try to hide your disgust.”

Jaime laughed as you jumped from where you were sitting on a large rock. The egg fossil dropped from your hand and rolled to his feet. Godswood lifted his head from the piece of meat he had been chewing on, settling once again when he saw it was only the knight. Jaime handed you the egg back. You continued to rub the wet fabric back and forth over it, occasionally dipping the fabric in cups of water and vinegar.

“What is that?” Jaime asked.

“An egg fossil. A dragon’s egg, Father won it when he killed Rhaegar Targaryen.”

“A stone of a dragon’s egg…”

“It’s a shame, isn’t it? It’ll never be a dragon… Dragons in Westeros isn’t that a funny idea.”

Jaime laughed with you. He watched you dip the fabric in vinegar and go back to rubbing the egg.

“What exactly are you doing?”

“Well, some of the dirt chipped off the other day and you can see a bout of color peeking out. I’m trying to clean it. Maybe I’ll put it on my dresser or save it for Sansa as her wedding present.”

“I thought you didn’t approve of Sansa and Joffrey.”

“I don’t particularly care for your nephew but he makes my sister happy. So, that makes me happy… Sir Jaime?”

“Lady Snow?”

“If I were to ask you to teach me to defend myself with a sword, would you agree or think it unbecoming of a woman?”

“I would first ask what reason a lady wants to learn?”

“Arya went off with the butcher’s boy to learn. She seems to enjoy it, I want to know if it really brings someone that much happiness.”

Jaime walked off and for a moment you thought he would just leave or even worse tell Ned. Not that you thought Ned would disapprove but he would worry. When it concerned you, Ned always worried. But Jaime came back with two swords in hand. You smiled and set down the egg by Godswood who watched it like his life depended on it. Jaime stood straight and extended his arm holding the sword, you mimicked.

“Happiness is from whatever you deem to give you such a feeling.”

“Is this what makes you happy? Being a knight?” You mimicked every one of his moves.

“It was until that dreaded nickname… what about you?”

“Me?”

“Is happiness also something you aren’t afforded at the moment?”

“I’ve never really thought about it before. Family makes me happy. Taking care of little Rickon, keeping Sansa level headed. Being the little Lady of Winterfell.”

“I’m surprised. Wouldn’t a bastard revel in the little expectations of them?”

“I like ruling, the responsibility. Besides, Robb would lose his head without me to keep it on.”

“And what about Lord Stark now?”

“He has his mother still… and Theon, not as good as me but good enough.”

Conversation died and turned into merely instructions as Jaime showed you the most basic way to fight with a sword.

“I’ve heard of your keen eyes. You know arrows would probably fare you better.”

“I’ll consider it.”

Jaime was about to say something else when Sana ran past him and into you.

“Careful, sister! You could’ve run into the blade… what’s wrong?”

Ned came over to where you were, ignoring the Lannister’s presence and focusing only on you and his daughter. With a nod from Ned, you guided Sansa back to the inn. Godswood following behind you, carrying the egg gently in his mouth. Arguing was all that filled your ears as you entered the inn. Arya was about to lunge at Joffrey, barely held back by Ned. You listened to the argument of what happened between Joffrey who had apparently been bit by Arya’s wolf. Joffrey turned to a flustered Sansa who in turn looked at you.

You rubbed her back in comfort, knowing she had to choose between her sister and her intended. After giving her answer, Sansa looked to you again. You nodded at her— her answer was the most neutral she could possibly make it. Arya, however, was not satisfied at all and once again had to be pulled from lunging at her sister.

“Where’s the wolf?” Cersei asked.

“Ran off.”

“A punishment must be in suit, there is another wolf here.”

Sansa gasped. “Lady didn’t do anything! It isn’t her fault.”

“The one behind your sister.”

It was your turn to gasp. Shaking your head, you tried to say something. It wasn’t fair. Joffrey got himself in the situation and Nymeria wasn’t even there anymore. Why did your wolf or Sansa’s have to die in its place? Your eyes flitted to Ned. Jaime stepped up.

“Her wolf has been with us all day.”

“You’ve been with Lady Snow all day?”

“Just keeping her company. Her wolf shouldn’t have to pay when it was nowhere near the crime in question.”

“A wolf must die to serve out the punishment of the crime in question,” Cersei said through gritted teeth. “Would you rather it be the one of a trueborn Stark or a Snow?”

“Enough!” Robert yelled. “This is madness. The young girl was there, the wolf at the scene gets punished. Snow, take your sisters and your wolf and go rest.”

You grabbed Arya and led a struggling Sansa out of the dining hall. Godswood stayed very close to your body as you bounded out of the hall. Sansa cried in your arms. She denied your offer to give her Godswood and you suddenly felt bad. You weren’t a Stark by any name. The direwolf was not yours to claim and you still chose to sacrifice her wolf over your own. Arya quietly sat next to the two of you, her own silent way of apologizing for what she viewed as her fault.

(Part 2)...

#game of thrones fic #asoiaf fic #robb stark x reader

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the-dendrophile-bookdragon · 1 year

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Block in the Road

Pairing: Robb Stark x fem!werewolf!reader

Warning: forbidden love, a lot of anger, angst

Summary: Robb can't hide his feelings for you.

Wolfsbane Masterlist

Robb all but sprinted down to the great hall. He ran past servants carrying more food, drinks and festive decorations. He got some weird looks which he ignored.

His father sat at one of the tables. Scrolls lay scattered around him as he worked. “Father, could we talk?” Ned looked up and pointed at a seat next to him. Robb sat down and waited for his father to begin the conversation. “We should wait for your mother. I value her opinions very much.”

Robb’s nervousness increased as his father told him his mother would join them. He knew he had to talk to his mother, but he thought his father gave him his blessing before telling his mother the news. The young Stark had the feeling his father knew his intention even if he didn’t say them out loud.

Both Stark men didn’t have to wait long for the Stark matriarch. She floated into the hall in all her Tully glory. She had a soft smile on her lips which widened the minute she saw her eldest son. Robb stood up and offered his seat to his mother. She thanked him by kissing his cheek. “What do both of you have to talk about where you need my humble opinion?” Ned scoffed at his wife’s self-critical joke. “Your opinions are very much valued my dear.”

Ned took his wife’s hand gingerly and kissed the back of it softly. Robb watch the interaction between his parents, wishing this kind of love for himself. “Robb has a request for both of us.” The man’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead. He stammered around the topic till his father put his hand on his shoulder to stop him. “The young woman traveling with him from the wolve village. He has feelings for her.”

Catelyn was quiet for a long time. She had a faraway look on her face. Robb’s nerves went haywire. He fidgeted in his seat till his mother turned to his father. “I don’t think it is a good idea. She is the daughter of a lower bannerman. It won’t be wise.”

Robb opened his mouth to protest his mother, “But Sansa is promised to the oldest son of King Robert. We will be second in Westeros after her union!” Ned turned to his upset son. He put his hand on his shoulder to calm him. Robb would have felt the reassurance if his father wouldn't take his mother's side. “This isn’t fair!” Both his parent's sight at his outburst. They understood him but they knew of the burden of a highborn.

Catelyn looked at her son with a sympathetic look, “Forget her, my son. And try to stay away from her. Maybe the feeling you believe to have will fly away faster.” Robb smacked his hand on the top of the table. His face was contoured in rage. He stood up without a word and rushed out of the great hall.

Catelyn turned to her husband. Their hands were intervened tightly. “Did we do the right thing?” Ned sighted deeply. “Only time will tell. But I hope we did the right thing.”

You walked around the courtyard watching the people doing their chores. You saw a young girl holding a stick in front of her. In front of her one of Robb’s companions, Jon. You watched them dance around each other. The young girl clumsily danced around with her training sword. Sometimes she would sight in annoyance when the older boy would hit her.

You walked on and saw a young girl with hair as red as embers sit and sow with a septa next to her. She seemed to be engrossed into her work. But as if she could feel the gaze on her she looked up. Ice blue eyes seemed to stare into your soul. She laid down her needle work and turned to the septa. The older woman nodded before packing everything and walking inside. The girl walked over to you.

She stopped a few meters away from you to have a better look. “Who are you?” Before you even opened your lips to tell her your origin the ward of the North booming voice rescued you. “Sansa, let us feast in the great hall. We must welcome our guest into our home.

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peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology · 2 years

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The Night We Met

That Which Binds You III

Pairing: Stark!Peter x Blackcat!Reader

Warnings: canon typical violence

Summary: Time for you to break into Stark Towers. What could go wrong?

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Masterlist

Series Masterlist

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

With only five days of planning the job was bound to be a bit of a mess. There just wasn’t wasn’t enough time for you to execute the break in with the level of precision you preferred. You’d set up some cameras on nearby buildings to watch during the day and spent the past five nights staking out the building in person. In an ideal world you would have been able to find some untraceable way in and out, but it just wasn’t doable, the building was too well guarded.

You’d determined that your best bet was going to be the helipad. Every hour a single Shield agent would come out to do a security sweep, but other than that the area was left unguarded. All you’d have to do was take out one agent and slip inside, but it was a bit of a Hail Mary after that. Normally you were able to gain access to the blueprints of the buildings you were breaking into, but everything involving Stark Towers was inaccessible.

All you could find regarding the building's interior were a few interviews and office tours done by Tony and his wife, Pepper. It wasn’t much, but you’d at least been able to confirm what floor his lab was on. You’d considered trying to get a tour from Peter, but quickly decided against it because you hated the idea of using him.

If you had a little more time you would have tried to figure out if any of the Avengers were slated to be there that evening. At the very least you had confirmed that neither Peter nor his dad would be there that evening. Tony was at a tech conference in Europe, and Peter told you that he was going to the movies with Ned. That was two of your biggest worries gone.

“It’s now or never,” you mumbled to yourself as the Shield agent stepped out onto the roof.

You jumped off the roof you were perched on and zipped towards the tower. You fell onto the helipad just behind the agent and placed a chloroform soaked ragged over her mouth. She fell unconscious in a matter of seconds and you picked up her key card before setting her gently down on the concrete. You used her card to let yourself into the building and began looking for the stairwell.

Luckily you found it was empty, and the lab was only two floors above you. You peaked out of the door carefully after climbing the stairs to make sure no one was waiting on the other side. You climbed onto the ceiling so you could creep through the halls undetected. A few guards were patrolling the halls but security was surprisingly minimal, you managed to make it to the lab without any hiccups. Once you entered the lab you pushed a large metal table into the doorway to wedge it open in case they initiated some kind of lockdown. It seemed that everything was going your way until you got the drive plugged in.

“Intruder detected,” a robotic voice called out as alarms started to sound within the building.

You weren’t surprised, you knew there was no way you’d be making it in and out without being spotted. All you could do was hope the drive would work fast and you’d be able to run before security showed up.

“Hurry up,” you begged, waiting for a small loading bar on the screen to fill up, “Come on, come on…”

“Well correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure you’re the intruder everyone’s looking for.”

You whipped around and spotted Spiderman, hanging from the ceiling above you. You were confident in your ability to out maneuver most people, even most Avengers, but he was going to be a problem. He was faster and more agile than you, plus he’d have the advantage in the air. You had no idea how you were going to slip away from him.

“Blackcat right? Or at least that’s what everyone’s been calling you,” he hummed, “I guess it makes sense with the cat ears and all.”

“And you’re Spiderman,” your lips drew to a smirk when you addressed him, “What could you possibly want with a little kitty like me?”

“To talk,” he dropped from the ceiling and stepped towards you, “Why are you here? You’ve been targeting Hammerhead, I thought we were on the same side. You don’t need to steal from us, we can help you take him down.”

You nearly laughed at the idea.

“I don’t take sides Spider,” you purred, reaching behind yourself to grab the drive, “I’m just following orders.”

“Who’s orders?” he pressed.

“Well I normally don’t give up information for free,” you slipped the drive back into your pocket and grabbed a smoke grenade, “But maybe if you can catch me we can have a little chat.”

You tossed the grenade at him and ran past him as the room began to fill with smoke. You dove over the metal table still wedged in the door and took off down the hall. Shield agents were starting to gather but you didn’t have time to fight them with Spiderman still following you. You tossed another smoke grenade in the hall and ran up the wall, over the group of agents trying to grab you. There were even more agents waiting in the stairwell, you swept your legs under one of them, knocking him over before you threw yourself over the railing. You landed a floor down and slid down the railing to the door you’d originally entered from. You swung open the door, two more agents were waiting at the exit for you.

“Oh come on,” you groaned.

They drew her guns and Spiderman shouted behind you, “Don’t shoot her just grab her!”

“You worried about my safety Spider? That's cute!” you called back, elbowing one of them in the side of the head.

You punched the other, knocking him back before you grabbed his wrist. You swung your elbow back into his stomach and ripped his gun from his hands. You shot it at the roof before you ran out the door. Debris tumbled down in front of Spiderman, buying you just enough time to get into the air before he reached the roof. Being in the air wasn’t good for you, the grappling hooks at your waist weren’t nearly as flexible as his webs, but you needed to get out of his sight as quickly as possible.

You attempted to round a corner and found that one of your grappling hooks wouldn’t retract. Spiderman had shot a web at it, trapping it in the building it’d been lodged in. The momentum sent you slamming into the large glass wall. You swore and used your claws to try and cut through the webs. Spiderman came crashing into you before you could get yourself free. He set his hands on either side of your head, trapping you between him and the building.

“You caught me Spider,” you teased, “What now?”

“Tell me who you’re working for,” he demanded.

“Oh I’m not giving it up that easy,” you chuckled, “Don’t you know cats have nine lives?”

You slammed your head into his and brought both legs to his chest, using them to kick him off of you. Your claws tore through the webbing and you sprinted up the side of the building with him following right behind you. When you reached the top of the building you threw yourself onto the roof and went sprinting for the other end. Another web caught one of your feet and you fell onto your stomach. You flipped over quickly and attempted to cut yourself free again. He shot another web at your hand, sticking it to the ground beside your foot.

“Now,” he took a hold of your free hand, “Do you want to waste all nine lives running from me? Or do you want to tell me who you’re working for?”

You gritted your teeth and racked your brain for a way out.

“I’ll talk if you let me up,” you tried to bargain.

“How about you talk to me and then I can help you,” he offered.

“Help me?” you scoffed, “What makes you think I need help?”

“You’re obviously scared of whoever it is, I can help you get away from them,” he promised, “I know your track record, I know you aren’t a bad person. I think you just got involved with the wrong people, and I can help you get out of that. You just need to talk to me.”

You opened your mouth but quickly closed it again. You weren’t a bad person, at least you didn’t think you were. Trusting him wasn’t an option, but maybe you could use him. If he took the drive you could just tell Fisk he’d caught you, that the job was just too big. Shield would have time to warn their double agents that Fisk was after them, and no one would have to die.

You took a deep breath before finally speaking again, “Take the flash drive, it’s in my waist pocket.”

He reached into your pocket hesitantly and grabbed the drive, “Can you tell me who you’re working for now?”

“I’m only doing this because I don’t want anyone’s death on my hands, not because I need, or want, your help.”

He frowned, “What’s on here?”

“They told me it’s the identities of double agents, it could be more though. I have no idea what that drive did, they just told me to plug it in.”

“Okay,” he relaxed his grip, “Will you tell me who they are?”

You knew you couldn’t do that, if you told him about Fisk you’d also have to reveal your identity. Everything would fall apart. There’d be no more college, no more normal job, no more better life.

“No can do Spider,” you ripped herself free of his grip, slashed through the webbing, and jumped to your feet, “I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again, try not to miss me too much before then.”

He stood by when you ran off the roof, letting you disappear into the city and out of his view. You knew he’d let you get away, but you didn’t know why. Some sort of savior complex is what you figured. He was sorely mistaken if he thought he was somehow going to rescue you, but you’d let him believe it if it meant he was going to take it easy on you.

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

The door closed softly as you could and tip-toed towards your bed. You slid your bag under your bed and dug your pajamas out from your dresser. Fisk had berated you for the better half of an hour when you returned without the drive. He’d made it clear that if something like that happened again there would be consequences. You’d expected as much and promised him to do better before you retreated to the dorm. MJ was passed out in her bed when you got back so you were trying to be as quiet as possible.

“(y/n)?” MJ croaked, squinting at you in the darkness.

“Yeah, sorry, I tried to be quiet,” you apologized.

“It’s okay,” she yawned, “How was the party?”

“It was good,” you pursed your lips, “How was the movie?”

“It was good, I wish you could have come.”

“Oh, thanks,” you blushed before adding, “You don’t have to invite me to hang out with your friends you know? I won’t be offended if you don’t.”

MJ sat up and turned on her clam shaped lamp, “I didn’t feel like I was obligated to invite you or something, I like hanging out with you, we all do. If you don’t want to go though you can’t just tell me no.”

“Yeah,” you gripped the pile of clothes in your arms and sighed, “I’m sorry MJ. I know I can be a little cold sometimes.”

“Well that’s alright, I’ll just keep bringing Peter around. He doesn’t seem to have a problem warming you up,” she smirked.

You decided it was best to ignore the comment, “I’m gonna take a quick shower, and I’m sorry again, I’ll be more quiet coming in next time.”

“Don’t worry about it, I always wake up when you come home.”

“You do? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was so loud.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she repeated, “I like to know you got back safe anyway.”

You felt your cheeks flush under the dim light. It was a sweet gesture and you didn't know how to respond, so you just retreated into the bathroom without another word.

next chapter

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fandom-puff · 3 years

Text

Family, Duty, Honour (p2)

Pairing: Tyrion Lannister x reader

Warnings: pregnancy/pregnancy symptoms including vomiting, prejudice towards dwarfism (discussion as to whether Tyrion and YN’s child will inherit his dwarfism; not a widely accepted condition in Westeros), childbirth, details of the death of Joanna Lannister (dying in childbirth/traumatic birth), reference to miscarriage

(Part 1)

Gif creds to owner

“Pardon me, Milord,”

Both Tywin and Tyrion turned around to see a young girl, one of your handmaidens, hurrying towards them, remembering a clumsy curtsey in her haste.

“Speak,” Lord Tywin said sternly, and the girl paled briefly before turning instead to his son.

“It’s Lady YN,” she said, and Tyrion instantly stood up straighter, even more on edge. “She’s… sick, my Lord. Can’t keep anything in her stomach, and just now she fainted,”

“Where is she?” Tyrion asked urgently.

“Her bedchamber, Milord. We got a squire to help her back into bed,”

As Tyrion made to hurry after the girl, Tywin’s hand rested firmly on his shoulder. “I will send the maester. He will prove whether or not you have done your duty to this family,”

***

“YN, my dear, can you hear me?”

Slowly, your heavy eyelids slid open, and you turned your head to the source of the noise. Smiling weakly, you squeezed your husband of two month’s hand.

“Are you alright, my lady wife,” he asked you gently, brushing his lips over your knuckles.

“I’m fine. I just got a little dizzy. Must have stood up too quickly,” you said gently, but you did not soothe Tyrion’s worry.

“Your handmaiden said you’ve been ill?” He prompted, and your cheeks heated slightly.

“It’s probably just… my women’s troubles,” you said quietly, still unused to talking about such delicate matters with anyone other than an old septa.

“Or lack thereof, lady Lannister?” The maester spoke up from the end of your bed and you frowned, about to say there really was no need for all this fuss. “The maids say your linen has been clean since your wedding night,”

Clean linen.

Those two words instantly reminded you of when Cousin Cat came to stay at Riverrun with her brooding husband. She had stayed for over a month, and halfway through her stay, you heard gossip of clean linen as you wandered the corridors of your home. Later on that year, she had birthed another child for Ned Stark.

“Does that mean…” you began.

The wisened maester smiled at your bewilderment. “Potentially. If my Lord and Lady are agreeable, I would like to examine lady Lannister to be certain,”

Tyrion smiled gently and kissed your hand once more. “I will give you some privacy, my dear,” he said, and once you nodded, he left the room to bang on the door to his father’s office.

***

“Have you put a babe in her belly?”

Tyrion rolled his eyes at his father’s callousness. “She is being examined as we speak,”

“Good,” Tywin said, hardly looking up from his paperwork. “You’d best hope she is with child and not ill. There aren’t many noble families willing to pawn off a daughter to us,” Tywin sighed and gestured to the chair opposite his desk. “Sit,” he said. “You clearly have something more to say,”

Tyrion was silent for a moment. “I do not want to lose her. She is young. Too young for… this,”

“She is only a few years younger than you. And besides, that didn’t stop you consummating the marriage, did it?”

If anything went on in Casterly rock, Tywin Lannister certainly knew about it within a day.

“No, it didn’t,” Tyrion said. You were nineteen after all, and you had consummated your marriage out of duty to your families.

The night-time visits, on the other hand…

“I’m scared that a baby will… that it will kill her,” Tyrion blurted out, and he could have sworn he saw some semblance of sympathy flash through his father’s eyes. “I am scared that my child will be too much like me. That it will rip her in two and kill her. That it won’t even live in her womb. That it will suffer. That… that she will suffer,”

Tywin stared long and hard at his youngest son, his bastard in all but name as far as he was concerned and sighed. “So am I,” was all he said, before gesturing to the door. And as he left the office, Tyrion knew that Tywin did not care for your suffering, for his suffering, or even for the child’s suffering. He cared only that his legacy remained.

***

Casterly Rock was alive with gossip.

No matter which corridor you walked down, people would stare, both openly and discretely at your belly, which barely showed thanks to the layers you wore (Tyrion insisted you wrapped up warm whenever you walked through the gardens, lest you catch a chill). You could not go a day without the maester inquiring about your general health, and when your swollen ankles were brought to your husband’s attention, he had the cobblers fashion you a pair of comfortable, yet fashionable flat shoes.

***

You were laying in your husband’s bed one night on the sixth moon of your pregnancy, a hand resting on your bump. “Leave the books, husband, and come to bed. I need you to tell your child to stop kicking me so we can all go to sleep. He seems to only listen to you,” Tyrion looked up from his books and sighed, shutting them over and coming to bed, his hand resting over yours. “You’ve gained a sudden interest in midwifery, I see,” you teased, but when he did not smile at your jest, you frowned. “What’s bothering you, husband?” You said gently.

“I…” Tyrion fumbled for the words, his eyes firmly on your belly. “I am frightened, YN,” he said quietly. “That the baby will… will have… will be a little too much like me.”

Of course. You cursed yourself for not even thinking that this could be plaguing your husband. You clasped Tyrion’s hand in yours. “Tyrion… even if the baby is born a dwarf, we will not treat him the way your father treated you,” you insisted, drawing small circles on the back of his hands.

“But what if it kills you like I killed my mother,” your heart ached for him, and you tipped his chin up to face you.

“Then you must promise me to love this child regardless,”

Tyrion’s heart ached. Neither of you had wanted this marriage, yet in the few short months you had been wed he had become fond of you, affectionate. He wanted to protect you from the horrors of a kingdom still reeling from the Rebellion that saw the end of the Mad King. He wanted to see you happy and comfortable and healthy. He would spend all of the gold in Casterly Rock to ensure your safety, despite the fact that your marriage was merely one of strategy arranged by his father and your uncle. You were still his wife, the most precious thing in his life.

But over the past nine months, he could do nothing to alleviate your discomfort. He could only hold back your hair and rub your back as you vomited, the only thing you could seemingly keep in your stomach was dried bread. When you could manage dining anywhere but your chambers, he ordered for the things that turned your stomach to be kept well away. When your legs and feet ached, he could only rub them in hopes of soothing the throbbing. When the baby kicked like mad at night, he rubbed your swollen belly so that you could rest, if only for a few moments at a time.

He watched as the veritable mountain that was your bump sapped you of your energy, and he knew there was nothing he could do to restore it.

And when the time came for you to birth the child, he knew his heart would ache even more as you laboured for hours in agony, with him unable to do anything to take the pain away.

***

You went into labour at night, your sharp gasp of pain as you heaved yourself out of bed waking your husband.

“My dear, are you alright?” He asked urgently, not groggy despite the fact he had been snoring like a boar just thirty seconds prior. As he lit a candle, he saw you grasping onto one of the bedposts, lips pressed together, suppressing your groan. “I will be back in a moment, YN, okay? I’m going to get help,”

“Hurry,”

True to his word, Tyrion returned a few moments later with a few sleepy maids and a septa, who laid fresh linen over the bed and began to send for boiling water. The maester was hot on their heels, scrambling to loop his chains over his neck, before shooing Tyrion and the maids out of the room.

Your groans and cries of pain permeated the walls of your bedchamber and down the hallways of Casterly Rock, and by sunrise, coins were being exchanged on the outcome of your labour. The smallfolk crowded near the walls of the castle, eager to call out prayers in hopes that the rich old lions felt generous after the birth.

Tyrion paced just outside of the room you were in, and every time a maid went in with fresh, boiled water and clean linen or came out with bloodstained cloths and empty bowls, he asked urgently how you were doing, but no one gave him an answer.

The septa left the birthing room, walking straight past the father of your child to… the grandfather. They talked in quick, hushed voices, that could not be heard over your pained cries, but Tyrion caught the two of them looking over their shoulder at him several times.

As the septa went back into the birthing room, Tywin walked over to Tyrion. He seemed to be in no apparent rush, his steps stately. Tyrion resisted the urge to scream at his father, to curse him for tormenting him while you laboured.

“When you were brought into the world,” he began, voice level and low, so Tyrion had to strain to hear what he was saying. “You were born, for lack of a better term, arse first. But then your shoulders got stuck inside the womb, and when you finally emerged, you dragged half of your mother’s womb out with you,”

Both men paled. Not only were they weak stomached when it came to the secretive world of a birthing chamber, but Tywin was plagued with memories from twenty or so years before, and Tyrion was plagued with guilt for killing his mother when he was a newborn, and fear that his child would do the same to you.

Tywin continued. “But the Septa has reported that the child is being born head first, as it should,” Tyrion nodded slowly. Tywin was about to continue when the door opened again.

“Pardon, Milords,” a maid carrying an armful of bloodied linen said. “Lady YN has asked for Lord Tyrion to… support her. The maester has permitted it, so long as Milord stays at the top end of the bed,”

Tyrion was frozen for a moment.

“Go,” Tywin said lowly, giving his son a small shove. “Your lady wife needs you now,”

Tyrion looked over his shoulder, and he was sure he could see a small glimmer of… sympathy in his father’s eye. Kindness even. And it was this look, paired with the shift in the way you screamed that had him running into the birthing chamber.

“Tyrion!” You sobbed, one hand reaching for him, the other reaching above you to grasp at the headboard. One of your trusted hand maids, who you had brought with you from Riverrun was at your other side, pressing a cool cloth to your forehead. Tyrion hurried to your other side, just in time for the maester to tell you to push, and the child was at last parted with your body.

All was silent for a tense few moments, until sharp cries filled the room. You could hear the cheering from the corridors.

“A boy, my lady,” the maester called out, and you sobbed for joy. “A healthy son. A little on the delicate side-”

“Is he-”

“No. He is not like you, my Lord. I delivered you and your siblings, and your son is exactly the size your brother was when he was born,”

“Can I hold him?” You whispered, your arms reaching out.

“Of course, my lady. He is your son,”

The child was handed to you, nuzzled against the bare skin of your breasts, his little cries soon petering out to soft snuffles of sleep. The maester left to deliver the good news to the Lord of Casterly Rock, but your world consisted only of Tyrion and your son.

“He’s perfect,” he said, letting out a relieved laugh. “And he’s going to tower over me when he’s a man grown,” You gave a laugh, happy tears streaming down your cheeks as you rested your head on his shoulder. Tyrion pressed his lips to your temple. “You wonderful, wonderful woman, I love you,” he murmured. “I swear to you on the old gods and the new that I will protect you and my son from all harm,”

You rubbed your son’s back gently, not wanted to disturb his sleep and you looked up to your husband. “Thank you,” you whispered. Tyrion, my Lord husband. My love,”

Tags: @sociallyawkward-princess @lazyotakujen @janelongxox @honeyofthegods @lxoxtxtxi @fullmoonshadowwrites

#tyrion lannister imagine #tyrion lannister x you #tyrion x you #Tyrion x reader #Tyrion Lannister x reader #request #2021 #family duty honor #part 2 #got #game of thrones one shot #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine

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what-the--curtains · 3 years

Text

There Are No Wolves In the Desert

( Oberyn Martell x f!reader, Robb Stark x f!reader)

Part 1 - The Wolf and The Outsider

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Summary: The series of events that have lead to you being in Dorne and why you can never return home.

Authors notes: Oberyn is not in this chapter but he will be in all subsequent chapters! This part is mainly context corner to build up the character! The reader is a distant relative of the Targaryens but I only mention hair colour and eye colour everything else will remain non- descript! Let me know if you want to be tagged (or untagged) in this story 😊😊

Tw: Swearing, violence, mentions of and allusion to sex (none depicted), war, murder the usual GOT stuff, major character death (I wonder who it could be👀👀)

Word count: 5.7k

Tagged: @evyiione

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Kings landing

Cersei tilts her head, eyes thinning as she gazes out over kings landing, the moon illuminating the gold plated roofs of the upper class, the stench of the poor unable to reach her here. Jamie sits on the bed she had shared with her late husband, slowly re-donning the white armour of the king's guard. He turns watching as the summer breeze blows the ends of her golden hair. His shin guard is clipped into place just as three short knocks sound out against the wooden door, filling the quiet air of the night. Sighing loudly Jamie stands up to answer the door, a smile forming on Cersei’s lips as she trunks to greet the visitor.

“Littlefinger, to what do we owe the displeasure,” Jamie asks, sarcasm dripping off every word.

“Funny… I thought knights usually waited outside the bedchamber of those they swore a sacred oath to protect,” he queries smiling, the candlelight illuminating his prominent front teeth.

“Is it done,” Cersei asks through her teeth, tiring of the man’s desperate attempts to hold some semblance of power.

“Yes. Not a soul left alive that isn’t loyal to house Baratheon... or is Lannister perhaps more apt. The north is ours for the taking now the young wolf has fallen, and Sansa is under control here.”

“What of his wife?” she asks, walking towards a nearby table, decanting wine into a goblet turning with eyebrows raised. Littlefinger was not the only one in Kings landing with ears everywhere. She had heard a rumour, one she wished to squash as soon as she can.

“His widow, you mean,” Jamie states from the door frame, dissatisfied at being left out of the conversation.

“Gone, left in the wee hours of the morning from what I heard,” Cersei says, eyes staring into Littlefinger’s, locked in a strategic game of mental chess.

“So she’s alive, ” Jamie adds, despite his previous statement being ignored.

“Not for long,” Littlefinger states , brushing him off.

“Who saw her leave?” Cersei demands, a hint of concern slipping through as she swirls her wine around in the glass.

“No one left alive,” Littlefinger reassures

“So she's...” Cersei begins,

“She’s set to land in Dorne two days from now, she will be dealt with when she arrives. She is…inconsequential.” Littlefinger finishes.

“And so ends the reign of the wolves,” Jamie remarks, as Cersei raises her glass toasting the gods.

Dorne (2 days later)

You watch the docks appear along the horizon as the ship begins to reduce its speed. The sea spray from the trip spattered across your skin was yet to dry, cooling you off, as the southern sun bares down onto you. You lick your lips, the salty taste leaves you parched in a heat the likes of which you’d never known. You’d never been to Dorne, though you’d heard stories of it’s fair weather, people and architecture, and you were eager to see if they held true. You’d heard the wine here was the sweetest the world had to offer, you planned on returning home with some, even if Dorne was merely a stopover. It was not a honeymoon you were here for, no you were here to complete a task of utmost importance. You came in search of the so-called dragon queen at the behest of your husband. He wanted to see if the rumours were true and if they were he hoped to make an ally of her. He had sent you in hopes that your shared lineage, though distant, would work in his favour. The Targaryens held family in high regard, especially with so few of them remaining. You smile as the shore comes into view, the birds above singing to your arrival. The golden hues of the late afternoon sun paint the tents of the markets in the docks. A sense of bliss rolls over you as the crew ties the ship to the dock. It would be one of the last moments of peace you would know for some time. Your feet make contact with the ground, legs wobbling slightly at being back on solid ground. You stumble slightly and a man with a blue beard catches your elbow.

“Winter is coming,” he whispers and you look up as he discreetly passes you a note. You open it. The letter is long and the script rushed, but seven words stand out ‘the King in the North has fallen’ the sheet slips from your fingers and you drop to your knees. “Quick, we haven’t much time,” he says dragging you up, as the first arrow pierces the sky, hitting the captain of your ship in the neck.

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Winterfell, 7 years prior (age 17)

You had always stood out in the north, a caveat of the family you were born into, all of you were outsiders here. Your grandfather was a Targaryen, second cousin to the mad king and when war broke out he led a small rebellion that tried to push back the Baratheon troops storming the capitol, but to no avail. Your father and his brothers were there that day, fighting alongside him, but they were outnumbered, and no amount of skill would keep the combined Starks and the Baratheon forces at bay. After the capitol was taken, your grandfather was hanged and your grandmother took your father and his brother and feld while Robert butchered any descendents of the Targaryen line that would weaken his claim to the throne. Your father had split from his family opting to head north, while they trekked south. He never saw them again. Upon his arrival in Winterfell he built a small homestead outside the city walls and sought work, thankfully the distinctive hair and eye colour had skipped him and he could blend in with the northerners. He found work as a stone mason, crafting formidable architecture admired and paid for by the nobility. The payments allowed him to move up the social ladder and while he remained in the forest he had gained the respect of the elite and was accepted as one of them. His hands soon grew tired of creating. They craved the weight of a sword and so he gave up masonry and offered his services to Ned Stark. Your father became a confidant to the King in the North as he moved up through the ranks. He ended up training many of the soldiers, and for a while, even Ned’s own sons. His proximity to the crown brought him into the path of your mother.

A ball was held in celebration of their eldest child's first name day and your mother was in attendance representing the Tyrells. He spotted her across the room, and to this day he swears the sun shone down on her despite being inside a hall. He approached her that night and they married during the long summer, your brother Illirion was born a year later, then a year after that it was your turn. Their final child, your youngest brother Rhaevar was born two years after you, thus completing your family unit. While the honeyed eyes and dark toned hair of the Tyrells presented well with your brothers, the Targaryen traits that had initially skipped your father came through in your genetic composition. Your hair was as white as the snow that came to the north during the winter, and your eyes a lilac similar to the foxgloves that grew in the spring. You attended a local school until you reached the age where girls were no longer allowed to study. Whilst there you heard whispers from the other children. Every now and then a comment of “murderer” or “traitor” would be shot your way, much to your confusion. It wouldn’t be until years later than your parents would tell you why such comments were made. After school ended officially you continued your education at home and studied the methods of healing that your mother had been trained in while in Highgarden.

Your father insisted all his children learn how to defend themselves, the north was a dangerous place after all, and the threat of war loomed large. The stability between kingdoms was teetering, it had been peaceful for too long, a storm was coming. You’d proven to be of high talent, had it not been for your eldest brother's size you would have been the strongest fighter in the family. Illirion married at 18 to a noble girl of high status, and it wasn't long after that you lost many of your friends to marriage. Some of the pairing were good, some bad and some even for love. Despite being propositioned a few times, you had no interest in being a bride.Your parents did not mind now that your brother had secured a wife and would be able to care for you once they passed. Your father also had it on good authority that you all were to be cared for so long as a Stark sat at Winterfell.

You were acquainted with the family since childhood, though outside of parties you rarely saw them. During the gatherings you and Sansa often gossiped together and Arya would sneak you into the courtyard and beg you to train her. The time spent with them was greatly cherished. Their brothers were often gone during such events, off showcasing their prowess to girls of higher status than you, women who would one day be their wives. Little did you know, Jon and Robb had been told to stay away from you so as not to ruin your reputation. That rule had been followed until one day when a particularly cruel comment from a noble girl sent Arya running directly into your path.

You were out tracking a wolf that had killed one of your family's horses. It wasn’t revenge you sought, but its attack on your homestead meant it was getting closer to town, and growing far too bold for your liking. You’d stopped your trek once you realized it was headed back towards the wall. Approaching your house you see Arya sitting on a log outside your house near the fire pit. Her feet swinging, intermittently kicking at the dirt below.

“Arya?” you question placing your gear down on the ground as she turns to face you, her nose running, eye slightly red.

“Is Rhaevar around? I wish to play” she demands, her childlike nature apparent now more than ever.

“I’m afraid he’s gone off in search of the children of the forest, but perhaps we can find something to do together?” you offer sitting beside her, she was upset, evidently so.

“I have no want to stitch,” she huffs, causing you to laugh at her attempt to insult you.

“Good neither do I. I’m no good at it anyways,” you admit and she looks up at you “Well what do you wish, Arya? Perhaps I can be of assistance.”

“I wish to know how to shoot my arrow so it hits the target every time. I don’t care what Robb says, Jon thinks I can do it so I want to try.”

“Well, I can help with that, come I’ll show you a trick. You’ll hit it every time. Prove your eldest brother wrong,” your comment earns a rare grin from the youngest Stark daughter. After a few goes she gets the hang of it, hitting your practice targets one after the other.

“By the gods,” you chuckle, you’d never seen such natural talents before. Caught up in your admiration of her gift you fail to catch her turning to aim at a farther target still. The arrow soars through the air as two horses approach your homestead, the arrow only just missing them.

“Arya!” you shout, grabbing her arm “You must be careful!” you exasperate as she looks up to you her mouth ajar. The sound of the horses fast approaching.

“Get behind me,” you murmur, pushing in front of her and aiming the bow true.

“It’s Robb!” she shouts, pushing against you attempting to make a run for it. Despite her efforts to throw you off balance you manage to grab her arm, dropping your weapons in the process.

“Why are you running?” you ask, not releasing your grip on her scrawny arm.

“Because I don’t fit in!” she finally admits.

“Well a secret Arya, no one fits in, we're all different, it's what keeps life interesting and what will keep you alive in your years to come,” you say watching as she stops struggling a softness suddenly coming over her features.

“She said I had a face like a dog,” she whispers, chewing on her lip, eyes down. The cruelty of children was always surprising to you.

“Well I’d find it hard to find someone who does not see the tenderness of a pup, or the strength and beauty of a dire wolf. Either way, You have talents, beyond what beauty can measure, ones that will never abandon you,” you reassure. She sniffs and looks up at you offering a rare smile. You see her shift back into her tough persona, the scowl returning to her face as she runs towards the horses belonging to her brother and who you assumed must be his ward Theon. You watch the eldest Stark, now two years your senior drop down allowing Theon to help Arya, as he strides towards you.

“We’d be lucky to have you in our ranks, if you can teach her to nearly take my head off from a mile away,” he laughs, easing your nervousness slightly, his northern accent heavier than you had remembered.

“I did remind your sister to be more careful lest she be tried for treason, or worse yet, get me tried for treason. As for my services, they are always at the will of the Starks, if you wish me to join the army who am I to refuse,” you say, tilting your head and offering him a smile.

“Women are not allowed in our ranks, lest of all those who look like you,” he charms, an unexpected compliment from a man you rarely got the opportunity to speak with.

“Not yet, but rules are meant to be broken after all my Lord.” You retort, eyes meeting his steel grey gaze causing an unexpected chill to run down your spine.

“Are they?” he laughs, the warmth of it causing a sudden heat to rise within you, counteracting his gaze.

“You should remind your mother of that when you return Arya to her,” you offer, as he hands you the arrow that almost took off his head.

“Thank you for returning my sister, wolves have been prowling about, heaven forbid they got to her before us,” he says, concern etched in his face.

“The wolves have moved north, I do not believe they will return this way, and Arya is stronger than you give her credit for,” you assure, his brows raising at your competence.

“I know, and I think she does too, I fear she’ll outlive us all,” he offers, rubbing the back of his neck, the two of you standing there for a moment, the smirk that usually danced replaced by a nervous grin. His head dips down before turning back to the horse, but he stops one last time swivelling round to face you.

“My lady,” he calls after you.

“Yes my lord,” you say, turning back to face him.

“I look forward to our next meeting,” he offers sincerely.

“As do I,” you say curtseying in such a way to make him smile before you both head back towards your respective homes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2 years later (age 19)

“What is it?” you ask your father as you lay down your quiver and the pair of small pheasants you’d brought home for dinner. He takes a long drag of his pipe, gaze glued to the treeline. “Father tell me?” you stress, knowing he only ever smoked when bad news had arrived.

“Illirion, he’s...” He stammers and drops his head letting out a strangled sob. You shake your head at the suggestion. Your brother had gone down to kings landing a week ago to serve as a bodyguard to Ned Stark who had been summoned at the behest of King Robert Baratheon. Arya and Sansa had gone with them, leaving Catelyn and the boys in Winterfell, Robb currently ruling in his place.

“Ned Stark would never allow…” you begin, sure your father had once again fallen trap to the rumour mill.

“He’s dead, they’re all dead, all of them...” he whispers, dropping his head to his hands.

“What happened tell me everything,” you stress, pushing your own sentiments aside for the moment.

“Beheaded, Ned for treason, for the murder of Robert Baratheon, his greatest friend, unlikely story. They killed your brother as Ned’s head fell. Arya, is missing, presumed dead, Sansa is a prisoner, to be wedded to that horrible snot nosed inbred Joffrey.” He continues in fragmented sentences.

“Mother?” you question.

“She’s in bed still, hasn’t left, I dare not tell her the worst of it,” he admits tear streaked eyes meeting yours.

“What the worst of it?” you ask, unable to think what could possibly be worse. “Lean on me father, there is no else left for you to confide in, lend me some of the burden,” you stress rubbing his arm in encouragement.

“War is upon us and each family must provide a soldier. Since my knee… I am no longer able to fight, the Starks know this. So your youngest brother…” he starts, but a sob catches in his throat stopping him.

“He can’t go, he’s too…” you begin, swallowing as you try to think of the right word.

“Soft” your father offers.

“No, he’s just not skilled enough, at least not in the ways of the sword. Skilled as he is as a mason he wouldn’t last a minute on the battlefield,” you pause, only one path was clear to you “Let me go in his place,” You say, before you have time to process what you had just offered to do.

“No,” your father says without hesitation.

“Let me go and you may end this life with two of three children. If he goes, I will be the only one left and I could not bear it,” you say pushing back tears at the thought of losing another brother.

“Your mother...” he begins

“Knows I was the best fighter. I had the best teacher in all the seven kingdoms after all,” you say nudging him with your elbow. He places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, before pulling you into a tight embrace.

“When do I leave?” you ask.

“Tonight. It’s a good thing your brother isn’t tall, his armour will fit you, take this helmet. Do not remove it, keep your hood up, any trouble and cut off their cocks, or else I will.”

“I'll see you again, I swear it,” you state, with every intent of keeping your promise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The battle rages forward, men fall around you, but you refuse to meet a similar fate today. Your sword penetrates through the opening of a Lannister’s armour turning quickly to slice the backs of the knees of another soldier, both falling in tandem. You hear a horse whinny on your left and you turn to see Robb Stark fall from his horse becoming trapped beneath the dying creature. You weave throughout the battle towards him. Your blade intercepts the longsword of an enemy soldier just as it’s about to penetrate Robbs armour. You drop your shield to Robb and you push up against the attacker. Releasing your force he falls forward and Robb pushes the shield up hitting the man’s face swinging his head back. Grabbing the man by his hair you slit his throat. You drop your sword and pull Robb out from beneath the horse. He grabs your shoulders giving you nod before returning to the forefront of the battle. As the horn of retreat sounds you celebrate the victory with those around you, surviving the first of many attacks.

You're walking back to the tents when you hear a familiar voice call out to you.

“You, wait,” Robb demands, chuckling with those around him. You continue on your path hoping he was talking to someone else. “It is not wise to disobey your king.” He sounds out again, forcing you to turn towards him.

“Come now friend, we mean no harm. I wish to look upon the face of the man who saved me and invite him to ride alongside me.” he states.

“Perhaps he is too ugly to show his face, my lord,” one of his lieutenants states causing a laugh to erupt from the surrounding crowd of men except for Robb. Though a slight smile pulls at the corner of his mouth breaking the cold façade he’d donned since his father’s death. A moment passes then another until the silence is so prolonged you have no other option but to obey. Slowly you lift your helmet up your eyes meeting his for the first time in a year.

“A prize for the army, my lord?” one of the men questions, hungrily eyeing you up as he fervently steps towards you. Robb's arm stops him in his tracks and you draw your blade.

“Touch me and risk losing more than just your hand, I have fought alongside you. I am your equal. You will treat me as such,” you demand, your voice unwavering despite the uneasiness in your stomach.

“You have a cunt, you are not our equal, though perhaps in bed…” another from the crowd offers.

“Stop! Leave us” Robb orders, and the men retreat back towards the camp ground the sound of laughter and whistles picking up once out of range.

“I did tell you rules were meant to be broken,” you say, watching as he tries to suppress a smile.

“Well they certainly have been now” he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Are you going to hang me, my lord? Or is it my King now?” you question, a bolder move than you should have felt comfortable making.

“To you it's Robb and no I am not going to hang you, but you are going to come with me,” he says offering you his arm which you brush by looking back at him to follow.

“How have you come to be here? Does your father know?” Catelyn stresses,eyes growing wide as she scans over you assessing the damage.

“My lady, yes, he does. You see when the war was announced and after my brother’s death, we knew someone from our family would have to fight. My father’s leg as you know isn’t... as it used to be, and my younger brother while talented in many ways, cannot hold a blade to save his life. My mother’s grief was already far too much for her to lose another child.” You say, eyes risking tears as she meets her gaze.

“So they sent you?” she explains to herself.

“Yes my lady I was the best fighter in the family, or the most skilled at least.”

“Well, we will not make your brother come to fight, but you cannot stay in the army,” she explains softly, hand running up and down your arms in reassurance.

“She saved my life today,” Robb interjects and Cat looks at you as you look at him.

“Then I am indebted to you.” She expresses.

“As am I,” Robb states the two of you not having dropped eye contact, much to the notice of Cat.

“Lady Catelyn, I am a capable fighter, but if you will not allow me to so, at least allow me to tend to the wounded or to serve you in some other manner. I am here after all, put me to use.” you say and she lets out a sigh.

“Well, if you believe yourself able to defend yourself, and if what my son says is true then I would be remiss to send you home, though you will not sleep out with the rest of the army, you will stay with me.” she says.

“And during the battle you will remain close to me,” Robb stresses “not for your protection, but for mine”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1 year later (Age 20)

Robb watches as you kill another soldier, the sight never failing to impress him. You had remained close over the past year, both in and out of the battlefield. He kept you close at all costs, your company bringing him some semblance of joy, even in his darkest moments. Rumours swirled amongst the men and the other kingdoms, though nothing between the two of you had come to fruition. Due to the colour of your hair, the enemy soldiers had dubbed you the white wolf, in an attempt to link the Starks with the treacherous Targaryens. While the insinuations at your extracurricular activities with Robb pushed the narrative that he was impure, that northerners were savages, who did not abide by the values of the seven kingdoms.

As you wipe the blood from your eyes, an arrow catches you in the shoulder, the force knowing you back into a tree. Robb is at your side in record time, his hand stopping yours from pulling the weapon out.

“Medic!” he shouts, eyes not leaving yours.

“Go! you need to lead your people, I will be fine,” you emphasize and he shakes his head “Robb, it is a shoulder, nothing of importance lives there.”

“No but it is attached to something of the utmost importance.”

“Go you have a war to win,” you state as the medic helps you to your feet and brings you back across the line.

You sit in Robbs tent, despite your insistence at being treated in the same manner as the other soldiers, he had demanded you be brought there instead. A skilled nurse had removed the arrow from your shoulder just as you heard the rambunctious cheers of the men outside, victory had been secured. Unsurprising considering Robbs keen strategic mind, he was smarter than you'd have accredited him for in your youth. He enters the tent blood spatter still on his face, seeing you alive and fine he takes the moment to remove his armour. He pulls his undershirt off and walks to the water basin wiping himself clean of the sweat and grim coating his skin. Your eyes watch his bare skin intently, studying every scar, every freckle. He grabs a fresh cloth dunking it the basin and wringing it out before heading over to you. He kneels before you, staring up at you eyes telling you to drop the blood soaked rag currently held to your wound, and you oblige.

“I must confess I long hoped to share an intimate moment with you, though these circumstances are not as I imagined,” he says, gently dabbing at your wound, you smile at his concentration.

“And under what circumstances would you have hoped to be intimate with me, my king? At one of your fancy parties, in the secrecy of a barn, somewhere no one would know you had been with a Targaryen girl.” You ask trying to keep your eyes forwards and not at his muscular physique.

“Every man in Winterfell had dreamed of sharing a moment like that with you, though none have found any luck,” he says, standing up and walking back over to the basin.

“I have no need for a husband nor do I have the want to be wife,” you say, watching the muscles of his arm flex as he wrigns out the rag.

“and what about a queen?” he queries, as his hand braces against your thigh, continuing to clean your wound, his eyes still focused on the gash.

“Do you ask all your foot soldiers such bold questions,” you quip, laughing at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

“Only the ones naked in my chambers,” he retorts, eyes darting up a grin plastered to his face.

“A bare shoulder is hardly naked in your chambers,” you state, and he raises his eyebrows mischievously.

“My fondness for you was never allowed,” he admits, dabbing the cloth into a salve and applying it to the wound.

“Oh wasn’t it,” you ask as he looks up to you

“No, my mother feared one of us would ruin you,”

“A Targaryen In the north, perhaps it was fear of you boys being ruined.” you laugh, but when you look at him the tone has shifted.

‘When that arrow hit you, my feelings were confirmed, I no longer wish to be more than a few feet from you at any given moment. I wish to marry you. If you'll allow me”

“Don’t be stupid my king, you’re to be married to a princess from what I understand.”

“I'll be married to whom I please” he assures.

“Robb is that wise?” you question, unfamiliar with the high stakes games played with marriage.

“The Frey’s will recover besides, we’ve crossed their bridge already, and I have no love for anyone but you.”

“Love? We barely know each other,” you say.

“Only our whole lives,” he reminds you.

“I fear you’ll wake up tomorrow and regret your words, so I will not answer you tonight.”

“Then I will return to these chambers tomorrow morning and restate my intentions to make you my wife.”

“What will they say if you allow me to take your bed for the night?” you ponder aloud.

“I guess we shall see” he states, slinging his bloodied shirt over his shoulder.

“Goodnight my King” you offer, watching in amusement as he attempts to find the tents exit without turning around.

“It’s Robb. For you, it's always just Robb”

True to his word he returned the next day and asked again, and this time you accepted. You married a few days later under an old willow tree, with Catelyn and a few others standing witness. The morning after your wedding you awake in his chambers, the sun yet to rise. Robb snores faintly beneath you, the warmth of the fire sending a chill up your skin that had become exposed in the night. You scan over his features, a peacefulness you hadn’t before on his face. You reach over brushing the white patch of hair amongst the mass of soft brown curls on his head. As you do his eyes open looking over to you propping himself up on his elbow and learning over to kiss your forehead.

“What is it my love?” you ask, kissing his cheek, then his lips .

“I need you to do something,” he says, serious as always.

“What we just did wasn't enough, my king? How else may I please you tonight,” you offer hands dancing across his chest, he grins shaking his head slightly.

“You have pleased me in every way imaginable for the past year, and even more tonight. This favour isn't a pleasure of the flesh however, I need you to complete a task. You’re the only one I can trust,” he states.

“You shift up to face him, the furs falling off you slightly, “find the Targaryen girl. I wish to make an ally of her, to destroy the Lannister once and for all. You are likely the only family she has left, she may listen to you.”

“I'll do what I can, and I'll do it fast, I do not wish to be parted from you for long.” you admit as his hand traces over your back.

“Take this with you, that way i'll be protecting you even while we are apart,” he leans over grabbing his dagger, the one made for him by his father, offering it to you.

“Robb I…” you begin.

“Will return it to me a fortnight from now when you come back. I suggest we make the most of tonight, so you have another reason to return to me,” he states

“I'll always return to you, even in death,” you reassure and he wraps the blanket back over you pulling you tightly to his chest. And so as Robb took his seat in the halls of Walder Frey to watch his supposed bride marry another man, you were catching a boat destined for Dorne.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Present day (Age 21)

“Come with me now Lady Stark, your life depends on it,” the stranger says, pulling you to your feet and shuffling you into a nearby tavern ushering you quickly up the stairs. You see a pile of clothes laid out on the bed and immediately strip, all notions of decency erased in favour of time.

“You must disappear, make them think you are dead,” he says, averting his eyes as you change into clothes typical of local mercenaries.

“Who killed him, what happened?” you ask, needing some kind of answers.

“There is no time, and it's safer if you do not know.” He says eyes darting from you to the door.

“I have a right to..”

“The Freys betrayed you, everyone at the wedding is dead, you have no claim to Winterfell. The Lannisters have taken the North”

“Everyone at the wedding..” you echo, sitting on the bed

“Stay here..” the blue bearded stranger says, returning a few moments later with a cloak, sword and black dye in hand, placing them down and grabbing for the clothes and the dagger on the floor, Robbs dagger.

“That stays” you stress grabbingthe dagger from his reach.

“It’s too…” he starts

“It stays, it's all I have left of him,” you whisper harsher than intended, fighting back tears. He nods and you take it from him. You grab the dye from his hand and rub it through your hair, staining it a deep ember.

“Keep your eyes down, they're the only thing we can’t disguise,” he states

“Who are you, why are you helping me?” you question memorizing the man's face.

“You share a common enemy with powerful people. You have allies here. Goodbye Lady Stark I hope we meet again,” he says, and with a swift turn he exits the tavern leaving you alone with your thoughts. You wait a moment before donning the cloak and pulling up your hood. You walk out the tavern, putting as much distance between you and the docks as possible. Keeping your eyes down as men scoured the streets for the person you once were

#oberyn x reader #oberyn martell x reader #prince oberyn x reader #robb stark x reader #oberyn x you #oberyn martell #game of thrones fanfiction #oberyn martell x you

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tonystarksfavoritedaughter · 3 years

Text

Crazy Rich Avengers: Chapter 2

Peter Parker x Reader

Chapter Summary: Tony is oblivious, Shuri is a queen as always, Peter is breakfast man and Y/N’s a grandma

Warnings: swearing and one mention of sex

Word count: 2589

*Flashback to Wednesday*

“Alright troops, let’s get this party started.” Tony walked into the debriefing room that was used for only meetings, but this week it had a new purpose: discussing Wanda and Vision’s wedding plans. Everyone was gathered around a circular table with plans and maps strewn out across the table.

“What made you guys want to get married in Maui?” Nat turned to Wanda and Vision. Wanda simply shrugged, “We just wanted to see what the island has to offer.”

“Plus Mr. Stark has that lovely beach house in Spreckelsville,” Vision added.

“Are y’all inviting Peter and Y/N to the wedding?” Sam asked

“Of course! Why wouldn’t we?” Wanda seemed kind of offended that Sam would ask that. She was very close with Peter and the way he talked about you always made her warm inside knowing that he found someone he really loved. She was kind of like a second aunt to him in a way, though no one could top Aunt May.

“Oh, I love Y/N so much. Did you guys tell her happy birthday two weeks ago?” Nat asked.

A couple of ‘I forgot’’ and ‘Oh shit’ replies made their way into the group and Nat just shook her head.

“Wait wait wait. Who’s Y/N?” Tony was so confused. He had never heard of a Y/N Y/L/N before. Was she an employee close with Wanda? And why was she with Peter?

“What do mean who’s Y/N?” Steve asked.

“She’s Peter’s girlfriend, Stark.” Bucky stated it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And it kind of was. Peter would come into the Compound on the weekends sometimes for training and just gush about you to everyone and even Bucky seemed to know who you were. And he never pays attention to Peter. Tony just sat there, not knowing what to say to hearing his intern having a girlfriend.

“Pete has girlfriend?” How come you all knew and I didn’t?”

Thor took a swig of his drink. “Because you do not listen to the Man of Spiders.”

At this moment Shuri, T’Challa, and Okoye walk in, with papers and blueprints in only T’Challa and Okoye’s hands, while Shuri sips her iced coffee, like the bad bitch she is.

“Hey what’s up losers?” She walked in and took the papers from their hands and spread them out on the table. She turned to Wanda and Vision. “Okay so I developed a knew sound system for the reception that does not require a DJ, and you can choose which one you want!” They all look at the plans and sure enough, there were about four different designs that they could choose from. Wanda and Vision had put Shuri in charge of all the technological elements of the wedding because she was clearly the smartest out of all of them.

T’Challa stepped up to the table. “Sorry we are late; my sister had to bring all of her designs and took about three hours to pack.”

“What? I have to look my best for the wedding. We all know you just throw clothes into a suitcase and call it a day.” She turned towards everyone else. “The only shoes he brought were his flip flops.”

“What you don’t like my royal sandals?” He puts up his foot to show off his shoes and turned to Okoye for support. She just shook her head. “I’m not getting in the middle of this, but if I were to choose a side, I agree with Shuri.”

Shuri laughed in T’Challa’s face and fist bumped Okoye and he looked at them and shook his head.

“What do you two know what fashion?” He asked.

“More than you,” they both said at the same time. This got everyone laughing around the table and Steve did his classic belly laugh where he grabbed the side of his chest and basically fell over.

Shuri turned to Wanda, “So, whose all invited to your big day?”

“Well, we invited Peter and Y/N –“

“Yes! Sorry I just can’t wait to meet her for the first time. Go on.”

Wanda laughed, “Aren’t we all? Also, Peter’s friend Ned is invited because he helps us all out on missions. What is it he calls himself?”

“The Guy in the Chair,” Vision replied.

“Ah yes, and of course all of you people. We wanted to keep it small,” Wanda finished.

“You know,” Sam started, turning to the royal bunch. “Stark over here didn’t know that Pete had a girlfriend.”

“What?” They all three gasped.

Okoye spoke this time, “We live all the way in Wakanda, and knew about this. You live twenty minutes away.”

“We know. It’s ridiculous,” Rhodey spoke.

“Okay and is there a specific song that you are walking down to?” Shuri asked.

“We chose the song ‘To My Future Wife’ by Mr. Jon Bellion,” Vision replied

“Oh, I love his songs!”

“We figured it represented our love for each other,” Wanda looked at Vision and gave him a peck on the lips, with hearts in both of their eyes. A bunch of aw’s filled the room as a response to the couple.

*Flashback ends*

You wake up at around three thirty in the morning to your alarm. You were essentially trapped in Peter’s arms and had to pry yourself out to get up and get ready. You threw a pillow at him to wake him up.

“What was that for?” He groaned.

“Come on. We got to get up or we’ll miss the flight.”

He got up with a sigh and got ready. He just dressed in jeans and that tight black t-shirt that you loved. Why would he pick that for a flight? You bit your lip and just turned away getting ready yourself. You picked out your black leggings and a white shirt because you wanted to be comfy for the 12+ hour flight ahead of you.

You packed your purse as your carry on which had your phone chargers, headphones, perfume, you know, the essentials for flying.

“What are we going to do for breakfast?” He asked. Peter was a breakfast man and so deciding what to eat in the morning was very important for him.

“There’s a coffee place at the airport; don’t worry, Pete.”

You left your apartment at around four in the morning and made sure that everything was turned off and nothing was out of the ordinary. You two take an Uber to JFK and almost fell asleep again. One thing was for sure, you were taking a nap as soon as you got on the plane. When you got there, you checked in with the front desk and saw that your flight would take off at 5:30am. So, you took Peter to the little coffee stand in the airport to get him some energy and food. He got a mocha iced coffee with a blueberry scone and you got a caramel macchiato and a breakfast bagel. You sat down near where your flight would be boarding and ate your food. You were so excited to eat because your favorite breakfast item was just a good bacon, egg, and cheese bagel. You bit into it and sighed out in a state of peace.

You had downloaded a few episodes of your favorite shows on your laptop so you and Peter could watch them together. You had downloaded some from The Office, Brooklyn 99, Parks and Rec, and The Good Place. You pulled out your laptop and headphones and gave one earbud to Peter so he could watch too. You decided to watch the episode of The Office where Michael hosts the Fun Run for Rabies.

About an hour later they started to board for your flight and packed everything up and walked over to the flight attendant.

“Right this way,” she said. She led you past the economy class and into first class and you started to get suspicious. There was no way you could afford this. Sure, you had some money put into savings, but it wasn’t much. She led you into one of cabins and you put your purse down.

“Uh ma’am?” You called out.

“Yes?”

“Um there must be some mistake, I mean… we’re economy people. Like, we’re broke, there’s no way that we’re in first class.”

“Are you sure? You two are Y/N Y/L/N and Peter Parker, right?” She asked confused.

“Tony, I swear,” Peter sighed.

“What?”

“I told Mr. Stark to not upgrade us because we were fine, but I guess he didn’t listen.”

“Oh.”

The flight attendant walked away and you fell on the bed. The cabin had a little TV on the opposite wall and the bed facing it. Night tables were on both sides of the bed with little lamps that made it kind of cozy. You walked around the small room looking at the different little pictures of beaches from different countries. There were a set of silk pajamas on your nightstand and you held them up to Peter.

“These are nicer than my actual clothes!” Peter just laughed at how excited you were and pulled you down on the bed. He rubbed your thighs and started to kiss your neck and sucked lightly and slowly worked his way up to your ear and nibbled on it.

“As much as I would love to continue this, I am not having sex on a plane,” you laughed.

He laid down on the bed with you, “Well what do you wanna do then?”

“Tell me about everyone that’s going to be there. I want to be prepared to meet them when we get there.”

“Okay for starters, there’s Wanda and Vision, Wanda has like these mind-reading powers, so be careful about what you’re thinking around her. There have been plenty of times where I’ve thought about you in an adult way that’s caused her to not to be near me sometimes. But she’s awesome. She’s kind of like my second aunt when May’s not around; we’re really close.”

“Good to know. It’s also a good thing she’s not here right now because all I can think about is you in that shirt,” you wink at him.

He laughs and kisses your nose, “Vision is also pretty cool. You’ve seen Vision in like pictures and everything so you know he can shift between robot and human form, so that’s cool. Um, he’s just really chill and laid back. There’s also Sam and Bucky.”

“Oh yeah you’ve told me about them. Do they still tease you a lot?”

“Not much anymore, but I’m sure they will when they see us together,” he sighed. Yesterday when he went to the Compound for his camera, they had mentioned that Peter wouldn’t be getting much packing done if he knew what they meant. Peter did know what they meant and just rolled his eyes at them.

“Sam’s pretty cool when he’s not teasing me, and then he’s kind of a jerk, but overall he’s cool; you’ll probably get along more with him than anyone. He’s got a good sense of humor so,” he trailed off.

“Oh okay. Now what about Bucky?”

“Bucky still doesn’t really like me, all because of what happened in Berlin.”

“Sounds like he’s petty.”

“Yeah he kind of is,” he laughed.

He goes through telling you about all the Avengers and what they’re like. They all sounded pretty chill and fun to hang around.

“By the way, Ned is going to be there.”

“What? Really?” You neatly shouted because you haven’t seen him since about a month before college classes started. He had gone all the way to MIT for college, and the last time you saw him, was when you and Peter had helped him move into his dorm.

“Why is he going?”

“He’s like our ‘Guy in the Chair’ for the team. Tells us where to go on missions, and helps out with the team, so I guess Wanda and Vision wanted him there.”

“At least there will be someone I know and close with,” you laugh at Peter’s fake hurt expression.

“You’ll have me, baby.”

“Yeah, but you’ll probably be talking to everyone and doing wedding stuff and I’ll be just hanging out. But now I have Ned! Now, tell me about Mr. Tony Stark. I know he’s kind of like your father-figure as you put it sometimes. Do you think he’ll like me, or will he go all Papa Bear on me and tell me that I’m not good enough?” You joked.

“He should be cool with you. Mr. Stark’s a pretty easy-going guy so I don’t think there will be a problem. Unless you try to crash the wedding,” he smiled.

“Yeah I’m totally gonna crash it and just get shit-faced at the wedding.” It was now close to seven o’clock in the morning and you and Peter were wide awake and couldn’t go back to sleep and still had another thirteen hours to go, so you just pulled your laptop back out and put on one of your shows and cuddled with Peter.

He held your waist against his and laid his head on top of yours. Your arms were wrapped around his torso and head on his chest, watching TV. You stayed like this for a couple of hours. You eventually got bored and started playing a game on your phone.

“Whatcha playing?” He asked.

“Candy Crush.”

He laughed at your game choice. “You’re such a grandma.”

“What? Just because I like candy crush that makes me grandma?’

“Yep.”

You lightly slap his chest as a response and watched his smile turn wide into a laugh. God those eye crinkles, I swear, you thought. It was kind of true though, everyone in your family and in high school called you the grandma friend of the group because you picked crocheting and baking of all hobbies, just like a grandma. And apparently Candy Crush was now considered a grandma game.

“Okay, I’d like to see you beat an ultra-hard level where you only have twenty moves to save 10 gummy bears,” you challenged him.

“Is that seriously a level on there?”

“Yes, and I beat it on the first try. Why, you scared?”

“No, had me your phone.”

You gladly give it to him and throughout the level you have to hold in your laughs because seeing his face scrunch up in frustration may have been the best thing ever.

“Shit!” He exclaimed

“What, did you lose?”

“No,” he lied. You held out your hand for your phone and saw that he lost on the level.

“Ha! Loser,” you poked his chest as you teased him. “It’s a shame you lost though, because losers don’t get prizes.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s my prize?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

You shrugged. “Guess you got to win if you want to find out.”

This time he held out his hand for your phone. “Just know, you got four more chances to win before you run out of lives.” Peter tried so hard at the game and gently slammed your phone in frustration and you giggled. Let’s just say that Peter didn’t get his prize. The rest of the flight consisted of watching TV and eating the surprisingly amazing airline snacks. When the nighttime came, the flight attendants turned all the lights off, kind of like a silent go to sleep call for all the passengers. You and Peter snuggled up against each other and waited for the rest of the flight to be over.

Tag-List: @randomstufflol29 @spideyspeaches @binnotjin @lolooo22 @multi-universe21 @ladykxxx08

A/N: We got an Avengers flashback! Yay! I really wanted to incorporate the Wakandan bunch because a) Black Panther is my favorite movie, and b) They are all just amazing and I love the way that Shuri and Okoye tease T’Challa all the time and wanted to put that in this. The whole Candy Crush scene had actually happened to me before and I thought it would be nice to add a piece of me in the story, and Candy Crush is honestly underrated if you ask me lol. I hope you all really like this chapter, because the next one is going to be awesome! Thank you all for reading!

#peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker angst #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x y/n #peter parker series

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disneygirl626 · 3 years

Text

Peter Parker x Reader :Journey: (2/2)

(Y/n) stood sideways in front of the mirror, a frown etched deep in her features.

“If you keep frowning like that your face is going to get stuck.”

She jumped and turned, watching her husband walk over to her. “Haha, very funny.”

“What’re you doing anyway?” Peter asked with a chuckle.

“Pete, look, the baby bump is already showing! They’re going to see right through me!” (Y/n) said, looking back at the mirror and placing her hands on her stomach.

While she was right, there was a bump, that’s also all it was. A bump. Barely even that, to be honest.

“Honey, I don’t think they’ll notice it,” Peter said, wrapping his arms around his wife from behind. His hands landed on her stomach and she smiled.

“What time is dinner again?” (Y/n) asked.

“Pepper said to be there at 6, but Tony said 7 so I have no idea,” Peter said, earning a laugh from (Y/n).

“May and Happy are coming too, right?” (Y/n) asked.

“Yep. How do you think we should tell everyone about the baby?” Peter asked.

“I don’t know. There’s so many options!” (Y/n) had been watching YouTube videos all day in preparation. She figured this is something they should’ve planned beforehand, but time had gotten away from her and before she knew it it was the day of the dinner and they still had no plan.

“We could do the picture thing,” Peter suggested.

“But who would take it?” (Y/n) asked as she went back to getting ready.

Peter plopped down on their bed with a bounce. “Oh yeah… Why don’t we do the onesie thing? Where it says ‘coming soon’ or something like that.”

“I think you have to have those custom made,” (Y/n) said.

The couple sat in silence, each racking their brains to think of something.

“What do you think of the ultrasound idea?” (Y/n) asked.

“Nah, it needs to be more creative,” Peter said, making his wife smirk.

“What’s that look for?” Peter asked, grinning.

“You’re just adorable,” (Y/n) said.

Peter’s grin widened before it slowly started to fade. “Have you.. have you thought anymore about telling your parents?”

His wife’s smile faded as well. After (Y/n) had gotten engaged to Peter, she and her family had gotten into a huge argument with her family. Her parents highly disapproved of Peter and wanted (Y/n) to go back to school instead of settling down so quickly.

They’d been invited to the wedding but no one had shown up. When Tony found out about that, he had offered to walk (Y/n) down the aisle and give her away. To say that she had started crying was an understatement.

Anyway, she hadn’t heard from her family since before the wedding so she hadn’t planned on telling them about the baby.

“I’ve thought about it. I just don’t know, Peter. There’s only two ways this could go and neither of them are good.”

“It’s completely up to you, (N/n). I’ll support whatever you choose,” Peter said. (Y/n) gave him a small smile.

She finished getting ready, but couldn’t shake that thought out of her head. If she did try to call them they could either ignore her or answer and give her a lecture about how she’s too young to be a mom and yada yada yada.

Her and Peter discussed how to surprise the rest of the family during the whole ride to the compound and came up with the perfect plan.

(Y/n) began shaking with nervous excitement as they pulled up to the compound.

“You ok?” Peter asked, frowning a little bit.

“Mhm,” she replied, climbing out of the car as May came to greet them.

“Hi guys!” she said happily. She ran over to (Y/n) and squeezed her in a hug. “I’ve missed you both!”

(Y/n) laughed as she hugged May. “We’ve missed you too!”

“Are you ok? You look… different. Not bad different, just different. Like you’re… glowing almost.”

(Y/n) froze for a split second. Peter saved her from having to answer as he walked over and squeezed his aunt in a hug.

May eyed (Y/n) suspiciously as the trio headed inside, but she didn’t say anything else about it.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Tony said with a grin.

Peter rolled his eyes but (Y/n) just smirked. The night continued on with (Y/n) on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She was sure they saw right through her. What if they weren’t happy about it? What if they thought they were too young to be parents? Her mom had been in her life, but she wasn’t exactly the best mom in the world. What if she wasn’t a good mom? What if-

“Hey.”

(Y/n) pulled herself out of her spiral of worry and looked up to find her husband watching her with a frown. “You ok?” he whispered, giving her hand a squeeze.

She forced a smile and nodded. “I’m ok. Just… tired I guess.”

Peter didn’t look like he believed her, but they didn’t have the chance to talk about it before FRIDAY announced the takeout they ordered had arrived.

As they sat around the living room and munched on the food, (Y/n) caught her husband’s eye and nodded, biting her lip in a smile. Her hands trembled as she handed May and Happy and Tony and Pepper a small gift as the conversation died down.

“What’s this?” May asked suspiciously, eyeing the small rectangle box with a little smile.

“A present,” (Y/n) replied, sitting next to Peter and taking his hand.

The couple’s opened their respective boxes, pulling out a sandwich baggie with ‘Spider-baby coming soon!’ written on it and a positive pregnancy stick in it.

Pepper was the first to catch on. She let out a happy little scream and jumped up, throwing the baggie at Tony in the process.

(Y/n) stood as Pepper practically bounced over and threw her arms around her and Peter. (Y/n) laughed as May caught on next, having about the same reaction as Pepper. Happy and Tony caught on shortly after that. They were excited but their reaction was a bit calmer than the women.

The months seemed to fly by after that. The first trimester had been rough. Morning sickness had hit (Y/n) like a brick wall. Most of the time she could only eat a couple saltines and drink some chicken broth.

There had been one point where they’d almost had to go see Helen, but thankfully everything worked itself out. They did call Dr. Cho a couple times, but without being able to actually see (Y/n), she had to guess it was from the radiation that changed Peter’s DNA.

“But-but he or she isn’t going to be an actual spider-baby, right?” (Y/n) had asked, having gone pale.

“No, I don't think so, (Y/n). He or she might have some powers, but I highly doubt it,” Helen had replied.

During the second trimester, the morning sickness gradually left and (Y/n) was hit with a whole bunch of cravings. The second trimester became (Y/n)’s favorite part of the pregnancy. She was able to actually eat normal food without puking her guts out ten minutes later and she felt great!

“(Y/n), are you sure you should be up there?”

“Ned, relax, it’s just a ladder.”

“Exactly, it’s a ladder! It could topple over at any second!”

“It won’t if you’re holding it.”

Ned tightened his grip on the metal ladder as he watched one of his best friends attempt to paint the wall in front of her. They were keeping the baby’s gender a surprise until he or she was born, so they had been a pretty sage green for the walls.

Peter was returning tomorrow night from a business trip with Stark Industries, so (Y/n) had called Ned and MJ to come help her decorate the nursery to surprise Peter.

The puking from the first trimester had taken its toll on (Y/n). She was a lot thinner now, except for the growing bump, and got dizzy pretty easily.

(Y/n) inched closer to the wall, much to Ned’s dismay. “(Y/n), do I need to call MJ?”

“No, I’m perfectly capable of doing this,” (Y/n) said, tongue poking out the side of her mouth as she concentrated on not hitting the ceiling.

“Capable of doing what?” MJ asked as she walked in. She carried bags from various baby stores, which she set in a pile in the middle of the room.

“(Y/n)’s trying to give me a heart attack,” Ned replied.

Said woman glared at him. “Am not.”

“(Y/n), do you really think you should be up there? What if you have a dizzy spell?” MJ asked, crossing her arms.

“I’ll be fine. Just let me get this last part then I’ll - oh!”

MJ and Ned raced over, but (Y/n) didn’t fall. Instead, she dropped the roller as her hand flew to her bump.

“What? What’s wrong?” Ned asked.

“He or she kicked!” (Y/n) said, grinning. She got down from the ladder and grabbed her friend’s hands, placing them on her belly. The baby kicked again, making grins pull at Ned and MJ’s lips.

“I wish Peter was here!” (Y/n) said, smiling bigger than she had in a while.

“(Y/n)?” someone called, making all three heads turn to the living room.

“Peter!” (Y/n) said happily, running to the doorway. She planted a kiss on his lips before grabbing his hand and putting it on her belly.

“(Y/n), what-?”

“Shh! Just watch!”

Sure enough, the baby kicked Peter’s hand. “Whoa!”

He grinned and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug.

The third trimester brought cramps, swollen feet, and weekly checkups. As the baby grew bigger, (Y/n)’s body began having a hard time adjusting. She became iron deficient and was confined to bed rest within the last couple weeks of her pregnancy due to other complications.

“Peter, I swear, I’ll be ok. Go be Spider-man for a little bit. I’ll call you if anything happens,” (Y/n) said, giving her husband’s hand a squeeze.

“But-”

“No buts. Baby and I will be ok, I promise.”

“What if you have to go to the bathroom? Or what if you get hungry?” Peter asked.

“I called MJ. We’re going to have a girls night,” (Y/n) said, one hand rubbing her large stomach while the other held her husband’s hand tightly.

Peter hesitated. “You swear you’ll call me if anything happens?”

“Yes,” (Y/n) said with a loving smile.

“Fine. I’ll only be gone for a few hours though, ok?”

“Ok. Stay safe, love,” (Y/n) said, pecking his lips before he got up.

“You too,” Peter said. He gave her belly a kiss before suiting up and jumping out the window.

“I will never get used to that,” (Y/n) sighed.

MJ showed up half an hour later and the girls filled up with junk food and cheesy rom-coms.

“So when are you due?” MJ asked as she left to refill the popcorn bucket.

“Two more weeks. But we don’t even know if it’ll actually happen on that day,” (Y/n) said, resting her head on the pillow behind her as she scrolled through Instagram.

A sharp pain shot through her body, making her wince. She didn’t think much of it, it’s been happening a lot lately. Then water began pooling under her thighs. She paled and muttered a curse.

“Uh.. Michelle?”

“I’m coming! Don’t play the movie yet!” MJ called back.

“MJ, my water broke!”

A crash came from the kitchen as MJ ran back into the bedroom. “Are you ok? Does anything hurt?”

“No-no, I’m ok. What-what should I do?” (Y/n) said as the situation began to set in.

“Call Peter. I’ll get your bag and your shoes,” MJ said.

(Y/n) had never been more thankful for her friend’s calmness before now. She tried her husband five times before giving up and leaving a message. She then tried Tony, who answered on the third ring.

“Hey, (Y/n), what’s up?”

“Tony, my water just broke and I can’t get a hold of my husband. I sent him out to be Spider-man for a little bit, but now he’s not answering!”

“OK, stay calm, (N/n). I’ll go look for him and make sure everything’s ok. Are you by yourself?”

“No, MJ is here with me. Call me when you find him!” (Y/n) said as MJ ran back in with (Y/n)’s sandals and hospital bag.

“Will do, kid.”

They hung up and called the hospital. Due to all of her complications so far, they told her to come in right away.

So MJ hailed a cab and helped her very pregnant friend down the stairs and into said cab. ON the way, they call Ned who met them at the hospital.

(Y/n) was called back into a room almost immediately with her friends by her side.

“Anything from Tony?” (Y/n) asked MJ.

As if on cue, her phone began ringing. MJ put it on speaker and said, “Tony? Did you find him?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. We’re on our way now. How’s she doing?”

“I’m fine, just get here quickly please!” (Y/n) said.

“We’re almost there!” Tony said before they hung up.

Well, after that phone call things rapidly went downhill. They gave her an epidural, and shortly after that (Y/n)’s blood pressure began dropping drastically, resulting in some panicked nurses and doctors.

(Y/n) began having trouble staying awake and the epidural wasn’t even working, which meant she was still in pain.

“MJ!”

MJ and Ned looked up from the seat they’d claimed as Peter and Tony ran in. Peter had a black eye and a cut on his cheek, but other than that he looked ok.

“Where is she? Is she ok?” Peter asked.

“Her blood pressure is dropping. They kicked us out,” Ned said.

“She’s in that room,” MJ said, pointing discreetly to the room across from them.

Peter raced in to find his pregnant wife pale and asleep while a doctor and nurse talked next to her. They both looked up when Peter walked in.

“I’m Peter, I’m her husband. What’s going on?” he said quickly.

“We’re going to have to do an emergency c-section, it’s not healthy for your wife or your baby if we try to wait,” the doctor said.

So that’s what happened. Almost three hours later, the Spider-baby was brought into the world and (Y/n)’s blood pressure started rising back to normal. She woke up almost thirty minutes after the baby was born to find Peter sitting next to her bed and holding her hand.

“Is the baby ok? Where-what happened?” she asked weakly.

“The baby is great. They have her in the NICU just to be safe for a couple days, but they said as soon as you feel like it we can go visit her,” Peter said, a soft smile on his face.

“Her? It’s a girl?” (Y/n) asked, smiling.

“We have a daughter, (N/n),” Peter said.

They found (Y/n) a wheelchair then went straight to the NICU.

“You must be Baby Parker’s parents. She’s doing great, she should be able to leave in a few days,” a nurse said with a kind smile.

“Thank you,” Peter said.

“Pete, she’s so beautiful,” (Y/n) said with tears in her eyes.

“What should we name her?” Peter asked.

“You pick the first name and I’ll pick the middle name,” (Y/n) said.

“Clara,” Peter said almost instantly.

“May,” (Y/n) said, just as quickly.

They smiled. “Clara May Parker.”

——

A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for reading! I know I brought up the parent thing, then never did anything with it so I was thinking of doing a little spinoff oneshot of this later on. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed these twoshots!

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #reader inserts #x readers #pregnant reader #peter parker x pregnant!reader #tom holland #zendaya #jacob batalon #tony stark #may parker #robert downey jr #michelle jones #ned leeds #fanfiction #fanfic #marvel #spiderman #marvel movies

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dumbbitchenergy17 · 3 years

Text

New Life Pt. 2

You lived any normal life get up, go to school, head back home, and repeat. It was until your school had an interesting meeting with the one and only Tony Stark. Will meeting him be the best moment of your life or worst

Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader, future-Peter Parker x Reader

Words: 2688

Previously

“You got that equation down well not even college students solve it. So you got a name kid.” He smiled holding a hand out.

“Y/n. Y/n Y/L/N.” You shook his hand with a small smile. Tony freezes for a second looking you up and down studying you making you slightly nervous.

“Nice to meet you but this might be weird but I just might be your dad.”

You laughed and not a chuckle a full-blown laugh leaning against your knees trying to catch your breath.

“Oh god. That’s good.” You stand straight wiping the tears looking at Tony still staring with no smile on his face. You look at Ned and Peter and they both have their jaws dropped

“Oh shit you’re serious.” You said. Tony nods shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah this is really weird, soo I’m just gonna go.” You point behind you and being to walk backwards.

“Wait,” Tony grabs your arm making you look back at him

“Look Mr. Stark this is just some huge coincidence and I would know if my dad the Tony Stark.” You try to ease the blow. Right before Tony try to respond

“Y/n!” Harry calls out making you look back to see him and Principal Mortia, “Your principal called really on your first day of scho-” Harry beginning to reprimand you when he sees who is still holding onto your arm he freezes and looks at Tony then back at you.

“Harry?” Tony askes in recognition.

“Mr. Mortia I’m sorry but Y/n will not be attending Midtown anymore,” Harry says and everyone freezes and your heart drops.

“What!” You, Peter, and Tony yell at the same time.

“Sir please think about this. Y/n is a bright student with a gifted mind and will excel greatly here..” Your principal tries to change his mind.

“Harry what are you doing.” You try to get him to realize what he is doing.

“Y/n we’re leaving.” Harry comes over and grabs your arm and begins to drag you out.

“Harry just stop.” You push away from him, “I like this school. I feel normal here and not the freak that knows too much.”

“We are not discussing this not let’s go.” Harry ended the conversation.

“She got a bright mind think this through, Harry.” Tony tried putting his opinion

“Stay out of this Stark.” He hissed back going back to grab your arm but you pulled back.

“Do you too know each other?” You asked looking at Tony and Harry.

“He was best friends with my ex-wife,” Tony said you look between him and Harry. You knew that Harry was best friends with your mom before she left.

“I think we should take this somewhere private.” Principal Mortia tried ushering the group to somewhere more private as a crowd was forming.

“What was her name.” You said over everyone arguing with each other. Tony look at Harry then looked at you

“Y/M/N.” He said making you suck in a breathe tears building up.

“Kid come on let’s go talk about this somewhere else.” Harry tried to guide you out of the crowded hallway.

“Did you know.” You deadpanned still looking at your shoes.

“Kid you know that I would-” He tried to defend himself.

“Don’t fucking lie to me. Did. You. Know.” You hissed out looking at him Harry looked down ashamed

“Yes.” You let out a laugh at how he felt guilty.

“How could you.” You whimpered a tear slipping down your face and you turned to look at Tony who looked equally upset.

“And you. How could you not try to look.” You shook your head wiping your face

“Y/n let’s just-” Harry tried to talk

“Just! Don’t” You lifted your arms up trying to put distance from them “just don’t” You grab your bag and rush through the crowd until you hit the door that leads to outside.

“Y/N!” they yell after you. The cold air hits your face causing pins and needles to appear as you make your way further away from the school towards the subway.

“Y/N Stop!” You turn and see both Tony and Harry standing there Peter and Ned behind them. You weave through the bystanders as you hear footsteps after you. As you enter the subway you make your way to the turnstile and try to get your metro card to work but won’t pick up the scan

“Y/n..” You hear your voice

“Come on. Come on. Come on.” You catch the attention of an elderly lady

“Here dear those things always are trouble-some.” She swipes her card and it lights up green.

“Thank you so much, ma’am.” You rush through the turnstile and rush down the stairs to the platform not even caring where the subway takes you. You just needed space from all this. You see a subway at the end of the platform boarding right as you hear your name beginning called.

“Y/n. Come on stop.” Harry yells. You run as fast as you can to get to the subway right as you are about to board an arm grabs you and rips you away from the doors, people still entering and exiting.

“Y/n, Don’t do this let’s talk.” Tony tries to reason with you.

“Talk, You had 16 years for you to talk, so just stay away from me.” You pulled your arm away from him watching his face fall. You enter the subway and the doors close right as Harry catches up and you both stare at each other as it moves and you are gone. You walk over to an empty seat, you lean your head back trying to keep your tears at bay.

You couldn’t remember where this subway was leading you to, but after almost an hour it stopped and most people got off. Walking out of the station and ended up on the street you looked at your phone and saw you were in Lenox Hill which was pretty far from home. You felt your phone buzz and saw multiple text messages and missed calls some from Harry and some from Peter.

9 missed calls from Harry Murphy

3 missed calls from Peter Parker

‘I’m sorry Y/n I should have told you please come home so we can talk.’ -Harry

‘Please come home I don’t know where you are’ -Harry

‘Please be safe wherever you are’ -Harry

The messages were all the same and you read one from Peter

‘Hey Y/n I know this might be so crazy and everything but please be safe, you’ve been gone for a while and know I’m here for you’ -Peter

You shoved your phone in your pocket and began wandering around the city just going where your feet took you. Before you even realized you had ended up in Midtown Manhattan the defining feature was Stark tower maybe 5 blocks away from where you are. You sigh going to turn away and just head home when thoughts about why you never met Tony or what really happened.

“Damnit just turn around and go home you’re only causing more pain for yourself.” You mumbled trying to force yourself to go home and forget it all ever happened. But you somehow ended up right in the lobby of the Tower workers and people made their way around the room with purpose, while you just look like a lost kid.

“You go up and ask if anything you get kicked out and look like a fool.” You hyped yourself up, you took a deep breath, stood up straight, and walk to the front desk where a woman sat typing away at her computer. When you go closer she looked up and gave you a smile

“Hi, do you have an appointment today.” She asked pulling up a calendar. You shook your head and immediately got nervous and ran a hand through your hair.

“Um...No, but I need to talk to Mr. Stark.” You said trying to seem as sure of yourself.

“I’m sorry but if you don’t have an appointment you can’t go.” She gave you a pity smile You nodded and began walking away before you turned back

“Can I give you a message.” You asked and she nodded. “Um tell him I’m sorry and I want to know more about my family.” The woman nodded typing it into her computer

“Thank you.” You gave her a smile and fixed your bag and made your way towards the door, right before you got outside.

You heard rustling “Miss! Excuse me!” you turned around to see the woman from the desk rush over to you. “I don’t know how but Mr. Stark would like to see you.” She said leading you towards the elevators. You nod as she presses one of the buttons and the doors begin to close when a hand pops in and they open again and it’s Steve Rogers.

“You’re Captain America.” You said in awe looking at the Avengers standing right next to you.

“Yeah, but Steve is fine, uh what floor.” He pointed to the array of buttons you pointed back towards the lobby

“I think the lady already pressed it.” Steve nodded

“Friday, to the common rooms.” He asked,

“Right away Captain Rogers.” A voice called out making you jump and Steve cracked out a smile.

“So what brings you to the tower.” He asked leaning against the wall watching the lights flash as you hit a floor.

“Um.. I have a meeting-thing with Mr. Stark.” You said running your hand through your hair nervous about what to disclose or not.

“You one of the Tony new prodigy kids he claims.” He jokes but you freeze at the thought of him having other ‘kids’ even though he did have one.

“Um not exactly.” You wrung your hands together feeling your hands get clammy.

Before Steve could respond the doors open up and you see most of the Avengers just sit around. Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes were playing some kind of game, while Natasha Romanoff sat next to Clint Barton who was drinking something while having a conversation, and Wanda Maximoff sat on the floor talking to Vision. But they all froze when they saw you standing there with Steve.

“Hey Cap, who’s the kid.” Sam called out causing more eyes to move to you and you could feel your hands shake nervous to be under the gaze of many heroes. “She here to see Tony.” He responded making Natasha chuckle “Another kid for him to claim.” Your breath hitched hearing that same word ‘kid’ were you his kid or just some random stranger who is just in the wrong situation. Before anyone else could talk Tony walked in and both of you stared at each other.

“Hi.” Tony breathes out scanning over you trying to take as much detail in as possible.

“Are you my dad?” You asked causing someone to choke on their drink

“I’m sorry I must be deafer than I thought. Did she said, dad?” Clint said making Natasha smack him in the arm.

“Well- I... I mean the logistics of it being.” Tony stuttered waving his hands but you cut him off

“Just a yes or no. Are you my father?” You stated your voice shaking trying to keep the tears at bay

“Yes, I think, god I hope.” Tony breathed out trying to smile. You nodded walking up to him and he opened his arms expecting a hug but a loud smack made everyone’s jaw drop. You slapped his square in the face so hard that even your hand hurt.

“Sixteen years,” You said as he pressed his hand against his cheek not even looking you in the eyes. “You had sixteen years to contact or I don’t know at least try to look.” You hissed clenching your fist up trying to get it to stop shaking. “Did you even try were you relieved that I was gone.” You cried

“Of course not..” Tony tried to console you

“Then why didn’t you try..” You whimpered a tear slipping down his face a hand touched your shoulder making you jump and you saw it was Steve.

“I think we all need a minute to just calm down and then we can sit and talk ok…” You and Tony both nodded. “Natasha can you stay with-” Steve started and was cut off

“I got it, Steve.“ Natasha stood up and wrapped an arm around you and began to lead you out and Wanda got up and followed you two and the rest of the men stated in the common room. You ended up in the kitchen and you sat at the island with Wanda next to you, while Natasha went to grab you water. “Here..” She stretched not knowing your name

“Y/n.” You thanked her grabbing the glass and taking a sip.

“So this must be a lot right now so just take your time.” Wanda rubbed her hand up and down your back calming you as you drank most of the water. You placed the glass onto the island and rubbed your eyes ridding the tears from your face.

“I never knew my dad that well just vague memories. All my life I thought there had to be some reason he wasn’t here, but there he was a fucking train ride from me.” You sniffled. Natasha nodded and Wanda grabbed your hand giving it a squeeze.

“Tony must have had a reason for this.” Wanda tried to console you

“Miss Romanoff, Captain Rogers would like you and your company to come to the common lounge.” Friday’s voice rang out

“Thanks Friday.” Natasha responded as she stood up, “You ready kid.” You nodded grabbing your bag and you three made your way back to the common room. When you got here most of the avengers had left giving you privacy, sitting on one of the couches was James Rhodes and Tony, with Steve standing in the middle.

“Can you stay.” You looked at Natasha when you felt her pull away. She nodded and Wanda gave you a brief hug before leaving you too to sit on the other couch.

“Uh, Bruce is gonna come and take some of your DNA for a parental test.” Steve explained and you nodded feeling eyes on you. Tony just stared at you his eyes red hair all messed up probably from running his hands through it a lot. Dr. Banner walked in with a kit and a computer as well.

“Hi, Y/n I just need to swab you.” He gave you a smile and you nodded letting him swab you and then he went over to Tony and swabbed him as well. “This should take about five to ten minutes.” Bruce walked over to one of the tables and started plugging stuff into the computer. You all just sat there in silence neither you nor Tony was looking at each other making things more awkward before Steve cut the tension by talking

“So Y/n where do you live?” Steve tried to start small talk

“Queens.” You mumbled and he nodded knowing he wasn’t making the situation any less awkward.

“You must be really smart to go to Midtown.” Steve added making you look up and then at Tony. He probably talked about you while you were in the kitchen

“Not anymore.” You remember you don’t go there any more thanks to Harry. Before anyone could talk Bruce walked back

“Uh the result is in.” he said making both you and Tony look at each other. “Friday.” Bruce called out to.

“The results from a Miss Y/n show a 49.3 percent relation to Mr. Stark and a 50.7 percent relation to Mrs. Y/l/n.” You could feel eyes on you as you stared at your hands.

“Wha-What happened to my mom.” You asked trying to focus your breathing looking up at Tony as looked back at you. Tony looked back down

“I-I don’t know.”

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