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#Talisa Stark
greenalicent · 27 days
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TALISA MAEGYR in GAME OF THRONES — 3x02 "dark wings, dark words"
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westerosiladies · 1 year
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"Difficult Damsels" -Nikita Gill
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rainwingmarvel7 · 2 months
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Once again, thank you so much @murmel-malt for another incredible commission!!! 💕
This is Nadya and Jon’s second child and eldest daughter, Princess Talisa Stark Tully. She is the wife of Edmure Tully and Roslin Frey’s eldest son (the one born in the show), Edmund Tully, and as such, the Lady of Riverrun. She is also a warg and gifted with greensight, and thus she was chosen by Bran to be the next Three-Eyed Raven. Talisa is also a gifted swordswoman, better than even most men.
I absolutely love this! From the expression on her face to her absolutely stunning outfit, it’s all so amazing!!!
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hiatuswhore · 1 year
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♕ ℓαѕт σƒ σℓ∂ ναℓуяια
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♕ A/N: I watches House of Dragons and LOVED it. So definitely had to find a way to incorporate it somehow. I just started writing for Game of Thrones so send me some requests! Also feedback is my motivator so please, please, please comment!
♕ SUMMARY: War is a game made for the clever and the ruthless, one without the other shall stumble and stammer. Stumbling and stammering has no place amongst the clever and ruthless. In war that can cost you your life. House Stark, known to be most honorable must find a way to navigate all that they do not know. Stumbling and stammering in the Lions Den.
♕ WORD COUNT: 2K
♕ WARNING: Season 3 Spoilers of GOT
♕ previous — masterlist — next
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(Y/N) STANDS WITH HER HANDS CLASPED IN FRONT OF HER. Her perfect posture and gleaming smile blend seamlessly into the crowd of spectators. She breaks her gaze forward, scanning the room. An endless supply of false smiles, speaking honey from their tongues as they pour venom into their ears. Do their hearts beat as fiercely as my own? She inhales sharply, her father's hands taking her own with a light squeeze.
"You're trembling, my dear. The course of action you take determines the future of Westeros," Cassian towers over his daughter, an unwavering veil of ease as she stares down at her plate. He kisses the side of her head, muttering into her temple, "We will defeat our foes no matter your decision."
The chorus of clapping pulls both Balter's back into the moment. Guests jump at the opportunity to wish Lord Edmure and his new wife Roslin congratulations. (Y/n) and Cassian doing so courteously before returning to their table. The music and animated chatter fail to reach (Y/n) 's table. She picks at the fruits on her plate, her leg bouncing without pause beneath her.
"—striking your King is an act of treason," (Y/n) freezes as the King of the North and his wife laugh amongst themselves. She fails to block them out as they speak of names for their unborn child. Her gaze shifting from the back of Robb Stark's head to the watchful glances around the room.
"They're all watching me," (Y/n) mutters, fiddling with her plate as her father scans the room. Walder Frey guzzles wine restlessly, his eyes bouncing between (Y/n) and Lord Bolton. (Y/n) cautiously brushes her hand against her father's forearm, her voice barely above a whisper as she avoids his gaze, "Father, please, help me. I know not of what to do?"
"My sweet girl, we are at war. Our hand has been forced into a difficult situation, but if you are ever to command the Azgeda army, you must be able to weather any storm. I have done my part. Now you must do yours," Cassian sighs, turning to his glass. (Y/n) keeps her gaze low before squaring her shoulders, straightening her back as she brings her twitching leg to a halt. Her eyes glazing over as she lifts her head, Walder Frey narrows his eyes as they catch each other's gaze. She offers a half nod, watching as the fickle man does the same to a Frey standing a few feet to the right of her table. (Y/n) stands, smoothing out her dress before circling her table. She stops in front of Robb and Talisa Stark's table. In the corner of her eyes, she ignores the watchful eyes of Lord Bolton and Lady Stark.
"My Queen," (Y/n) curtsies with perfect precision as Talisa smiles sweetly, "Lady (Y/n)."
"Your grace, I apologize for the intrusion, but I carry time-sensitive information. Will you walk with me?" Robb's smile falters, his eyebrows furrowing as he scoots to the edge of his seat. (Y/n) swallows thickly as he turns to his wife, pecking her cheek before rising to his feet.
"Lady (Y/n)," He says, offering his arm. She smiles weakly, offering Talisa a final curtsy before taking his arm. "Have you enjoyed the festivities?"
"Yes, your grace, it appears Lord Edmure is not as apprehensive about this union as before," The two move in sync at a leisurely pace, following the wall toward the back of the hall. (Y/n) nods absentmindedly as Robb jokes about making a mistake in not marrying a Frey, her eyes on her father as they pass him.
"The Queen is very lovely, your grace. There is no mistaking the way you look at her," (Y/n) 's smile hides the screaming shame beneath the surface. "One can only hope to find a love match as such."
"You are quite lovely yourself, Lady (Y/n). You and your father have continued unrelenting loyalty to my family and cause. You have both been invaluable to me. I assure you when this is over, I will make certain you get that love match," He stops her, making certain to look her in the eyes as he holds a wide smile. (Y/n) breaks her gaze continuing their stroll, the announcement of the bedding ceremony filling her silence, "Time-sensitive information? Should we summon my advisors?"
"Not necessary and not here, my King. Back in Azgeda, we say the walls have ears. What I am to tell you is for the ears of the King in the North only. We will win this war, but I need you to trust me," Stopping short as a large group of Northerners carry Roslin out of the hall with Edmure struggling to tame the invasive hands of women leading him out of the hall. Robb frowns at her words, her face void of a tangible expression. Then, as the stampede of Northern wedding tradition disappears, a Frey soldier side steps both (Y/n) and Robb at the doors.
"Lord Frey is about to toast," The soft hum of Rains of Castamere fills the halls as Robb frowns, his eyes bounding between (Y/n) and the Frey soldier.
"I am aware, and we shall return long before the toast. I escort our King at Lord Frey's behest," The soldier mimics Robb's frown as (Y/n) swallows thickly, the window of opportunity closing rapidly. (Y/n) glances back to find her father speaking quietly with Lord Bolton and Frey. At the opening of the doors, (Y/n) pulls Robb left sharply, her pace hastening in the dimly lit corridor.
"What is happening?" (Y/n) reveals a cloak pulling it around Robb. She carefully covers his head before handing him a dagger. She ignores his barrage of questions as she leads him toward the main gate.
"Lady (Y/n). Are you not supposed to be at the proceedings? We are locking down soon," (Y/n) stops in her tracks, turning to the soldier with a half smile. She sidesteps Robb, who keeps his gaze down.
"I've grown weary. My father sent me with my guard. I am to return to the Azgeda stronghold south of here. Come morning, we'll be war heroes, I suppose," (Y/n) glances at the gates where several Frey soldiers rush around with weapons in hand. The man frowns, tilting his head to look past Her. As she lifts her chin, her smile falls from her lips, "I think you forget your place, soldier. A foot soldier interrogating a high-born Lady, the last descendant of Old Valyria. I imagine the consequences would be unspeakable."
"My apologies, milady. I meant no offense," His gaze drops to his feet as he steps to the side. She clasps her hands, marching past him with her head held high and Robb shuffling in tow. Then, out of earshot, she pauses, standing at the edge where the torchlight meets the darkness that consumes the tree line.
"Follow me," She does not wait for a response or spare Robb a single glance as she marches toward the woods. Robb watches her retreating form before glancing at the twins. He knows something is wrong, but a nag in his chest beckons him to follow the last descendant of Old Valyria. His journey toward the tree line is short, even as he shuffles carefully with the dagger she gave him in hand. She stands speaking with one of her father's generals when he discovers the handful of knights hidden in the Forest.
His furrowed eyebrows fall as he clenches his jaw with narrowed eyes. (Y/n) approaches with her hands clasped in front of her, "Your grace—"
"What is the meaning of this?" The sound of swords unsheathing nearly drowns out the low grumble of the young King's voice. One hand holds her neck as the other presses his dagger to her throat. She stands rigid as he glares daggers at her, ignoring her father's soldiers that surround him.
"Stand down," She calls out—not to Robb, to her men. Her gaze on Robb unrelenting, with a chilling calm painting her features. The valyrian steel sits cold against her throat as no one moves a muscle, "I am the Lady of Azgeda. The last house with ties to Old Valyria. Chosen by the gods. Your commander, in my father's absence, I said stand down!"
The sheathing of swords and her commands do little to stifle the indignation in Robb's eyes.
"The young wolf. You've won every battle but have made costly mistakes, your grace," (Y/n) squeezes her eyes shut as Robb backs her into a tree. The soldiers' cries in the distance fill the air as the Red Wedding begins. Robb glances toward the Twins before speaking in a low hum, "Get to a point."
"Walder Frey and Roose Bolton have betrayed you. This wedding is a farce, a slaughter. I was tasked with separating you from your wife. She is to be the first target," (Y/n) grits her teeth as the dagger draws blood, Robb's grip tightening on her throat. His hands tremble against her skin as his eyes well with realization.
"You left my pregnant wife and mother to be slaughtered?" He scoffs, yanking her from the tree and turning her toward the Twins, knife still at her throat. The cries quiet down, and in the distance, Azgeda soldiers march toward the blood bath.
"I had a choice tonight. Allow you to be slaughtered with your people, lose this war and accept a reward from my mother's murderers. Or save your life and use this treachery to our advantage. These seasoned soldiers with us now will march us to our stronghold not too far North as the rest of the army murderers the Freys and Boltons."
"Why shouldn't I slit your throat?" He whispers into the shell of her ear, her back pressed to his chest. Dagger still at her throat, she lets out a dry laugh.
"Because all of this would have been for nothing. My men will kill you, my father will bide his time and side with the Lannisters as he plots his revenge, and your sisters will remain captives. Frey and Bolton have given us an advantage. Right now, your men, mother, and wife lay dead. My father will present your mother's body and a mutilated man to the crown. The world will think you dead, and my father will demand my protection and army set up camp in Casterly Rock away from the North until things calm down. Then, while they lick their wounds and celebrate their victories—their treacheries, you will command the Azgeda army in their ancestral home. We will take Casterly Rock and paint Kings Landing with Lannister blood. But go ahead, slit my throat, end our family names, and will be written in history books as casualties of the Red Wedding. Fools who thought they could wage war against the crown," Another dry chuckle leaves her lips as she watches her army overwhelm the Twins. Tears leave her as she pictures a fate far worse than death, the Lannisters getting away with it all. If Walder Frey or Roose Bolton still breathe, they are undoubtedly aware of her and her father's betrayal.
Robb's grip on (Y/n) loosens before he drops it entirely. She steps back, turning away from the Twins as Robb's legs buckle beneath him. On his knees, his eyes focus on the Twins. A quiet sob leaves his lips as she wipes blood from her neck. Her sworn protector, Azgeda's general at her side, checking for wounds.
"Your grace. Lady (Y/n). We must leave soon in the coverage of night. The Lannister army is arriving in a few hours," Nodding her head, her gaze remains on Robb, who does not move a muscle. Reaching forward, (Y/n) pauses, studying Robb carefully before placing her hand on his arm. He yanks away from her violently before rising to his feet and stomping further into the woods. (Y/n) gesture for men to follow him.
"Are you okay, Lady (Y/n)?" Swallowing dryly, she nods, offering a half-hearted nod.
"Send word to prepare our ships. We sail for Casterly Rock in the coming weeks."
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shiesie · 8 months
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I have not watched the show, so I’m genuinely asking - how the hell did the GoT writers explain away why Talisa - the noble, wealthy, girl from a powerful family in Volantis - never had her family coming after her killers?
Like, the Volantine are a tempestuous, vicious sort of people at the best of times, and you expect me to believe that one of the accomplished, beauties of their city who had just married the King in the North and was pregnant with his child didn’t have her entire city howling at the gates of King’s Landing for the heads of the Freys?
I know they had their hands full with Dany later on, but it still makes no sense!!!
Talisa’s family logically would’ve wanted vengeance
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joy1306 · 6 years
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Robb Stark (Richard Madden) & Talisa Stark (Oona Chaplin) - Game of Thrones.
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kaitlinj16 · 4 months
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🦋365 Days / 365 Characters🦋
[353/365] Characters 》 Talisa Stark
"I decided two things that day. I would not waste my years planning dances and masquerades with the other noble ladies. And when I came of age, I would never live in a slave city again."
💙💙💙
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meril-tospen · 2 years
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- When I speak to people from the North, they all loved your father.
- He was the best man I ever met. I know children always think that about their fathers, but…
- Children do not always think that about their fathers, believe me.
- He once told me that being a lord is like being a father, except you have thousands of children and you worry about all of them. The farmers ploughing the fields are yours to protect. The charwomen scrubbing the floors, yours to protect. The soldiers you order into battle. He told me he woke with fear in the morning and went to bed with fear in the night. I didn’t believe him. I asked him, “How can a man be brave if he’s afraid?” “That is the only time a man can be brave,” he told me.
- I wish I could have met him.
- He would have liked you.
- Most lords worry more about their gold and their glory than the charwomen scrubbing their floors.
- He didn’t care much about gold or glory.
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Game of Thrones: Episode: “The Bear and the Maiden Fair”
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Good Morning Saturday.
Oona Chaplin aka Talisa Stark Game of Thrones.
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bumblesimagines · 9 months
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Imagine:
Being the Frey girl betrothed to Robb Stark
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Request: Yes or No
Did not intend for this to be long
~~~
It was supposed to be the perfect day. Many little ladies dreamt of their weddings, dreamily wondering about their future husbands and the family they'd create together. Your dreams of the perfect wedding had been brief, crushed quickly under the boot of your father, Walder Frey, and you were forced to accept that you'd be marrying out of duty rather than true love.
There'd been some hope and a spark of relief when your sisters had rushed to your bedchambers, giddy and eager to speak of your betrothed: Lord Robb Stark of Winterfell. He had visited briefly and been allowed his pick of the litter, but when he provided no response, your father chose for him. You knew of the Starks of Winterfell. They were an honorable family and close as could be. And from the accounts of your sisters, Robb was a handsome man. Young, handsome, eyes blue as sapphires, pretty brown hair, and incredibly polite. You hadn't seen him as you'd been occupied the day of his visit, but everything your sisters told you filled you with glee. An honorable, kind husband who you'd surely fall in love with.
Or so you thought.
You'd been there when one of Walder's men had requested his time and spoke of Robb. The words that followed had sent you reeling, stomach twisting and heart shattering. Robb had a lover. A healer from Volantis named Talisa Maegyr. Your father's rage had been brief, calming when the man assured him Robb still planned on wedding you. He hadn't broken his promise to House Frey, and that had been enough for your father. You shouldn't have been surprised. Walder himself had fostered many bastards throughout his countless marriages.
"A man has needs." He'd said, curling his bony fingers around his ale and bringing it to his mouth. He cared little for the tears forming in your eyes. "I cannot fault him for that."
You spent the rest of the day weeping in your room with your sisters around you, murmuring comforts and trying to brighten your day.
"You'll be Lady Stark and Queen of the North soon, dear sister." One had attempted, a brush delicately going through your hair. "His mistress will be just that. A mistress."
But it hadn't been that. No, you wept because a mistress before the wedding had even been planned meant a loveless marriage where you'd have to battle for your husband's attention, battle to ensure you had his child first. You'd seen firsthand how much a loveless marriage affected a bride. Your father had many wives after the death of your own mother, each of them young and full of light that dimmed with each passing day until they were a hollow and empty shell. You wept for what could've been a happy future far from the grim place you called home.
But the sadness turned to bitterness and anger over night. The Stark's prided themselves on being loyal and honorable, sticking to their oaths and promises even if it meant putting their own happiness aside. Why couldn't Robb done that for you? Why had he taken a lover so quickly after the announcement of your incoming wedding? He hadn't cared about how shameful it would be for you. How humiliating. You'd be known as Lady (Y/N) of Winterfell, the woman who'd been cast aside before ever meeting her husband.
The wedding date had arrived sooner than later, something you loathed. You stared at the reflection in the mirror as both maids and kin tended to you. They brushed your hair, powdered your face, and tightened the wedding dress to your body while fawning over how beautiful of a wedding it'd be. They praised you at the end, gushing over how pretty of a bride you'd be. They hadn't thought to realize that Robb would be envisioning his little healer in your place when you walked down the isle.
You ensured to keep a stoic expression throughout the ceremony, not even mustering a smile for your husband when he lifted the veil and took in your appearance. His eyes, as pretty as described, had widened considerably and flickered over to the pews where his family sat. The ends of his mouth had quirked up into a smile and he muttered a soft 'my lady' before turning to the Septon. You would've scoffed if it weren't for the stare Walder gave you.
The ceremony went by in a breeze and you kept your stoic, cool composure, even when your father had lowly whispered for you to smile after being seated. He no longer had control over you. You relished in the thought. The only good thing that had allowed for you to have an appetite as Starks, Freys, and other allies celebrated. You spent most of the celebration searching for her until you noticed Catelyn Stark speaking with a young woman who stared at Robb hopelessly. Talisa, you presumed from the frankly exasperated look on Catelyn's face. She was pretty, you'd give him that.
"Are you feeling well?" Robb asked quietly and reached for your hand, delicately placing his over it and staring at you with knitted brows. You pulled your hand away swiftly and set it on your lap, eyes moving onto your beloved sisters to keep your emotions in check.
"No." You answered after a brief pause. Robb was handsome, incredibly so, but his presence alone irritated you. You had to act quick before the bedding ceremony took place, a tradition your father insisted on keeping alive. "I feel unwell, Lord Stark. I'm afraid I'll be retreating early."
"Shall I go with-"
Rising from your seat, you shook your head, still refusing to meet his eyes. "No, My Lord. That will not be necessary." You carefully lifted your dress and breezed past your father, ignoring the glare he speared into your back as you glided down the steps and toward the exit.
Slipping out into the familiar halls, you exhaled deeply and released your gown. It dragged along the stone floor, dark gray clashing with white. You itched to get out of it as soon as possible. The thought of burning it crossed your mind but it felt too childish, too improper of a lady.
"My Queen." A voice echoed down the hall and you halted. Queen of the North and Lady Stark of Winterfell. Right. Your new titles. No longer one of Walder's many overlooked daughters. You looked over your shoulder, spotting her auburn hair first, a signature trait of the Tully family. Catelyn Stark.
"My Lady." You greeted her, turning to face the older woman. She smiled sweetly, gazing at you with the warmth of a mother. Catelyn grew closer and took your hands into hers, smile turning into a shamed smile.
"I am deeply sorry for what my son has done." Her voice sounded sincere, full of guilt and shame. She shook her head. "I taught him better than that. He knows better than that. But rest assured, that woman will not cause problems for you."
You'd nearly forgotten. Eddard Stark had returned home from the war with a bastard son called Jon Snow and raised him as a trueborn alongside the rest of his children. You remembered the murmured rumors of how Catelyn detested him and had fostered a particular dislike for bastards. Perhaps that dislike extended to mistresses.
"She may share his bed, that is true. But he is my husband now, and as his wife, I have duties that I will not forget. I can assure you, Lady Stark, I will give your son an heir and do what needs to be done for House Stark to prosper, just as you have done these many years." Her eyes softened considerably, fingers lightly squeezing the palms of your hands.
"Oh, sweet child." Catelyn cooed gently and brought a hand to your cheek. You yearned for your mother's embrace, her soothing words. You pressed your lips together to keep them from trembling. "You shall make a wonderful queen and a wonderful wife. I... I will ensure Robb does his duties as husband. You need not stress over Talisa."
"I appreciate it, Lady Stark. I'm afraid I'll be heading to my- our bedchambers for the rest of the night. Please assure everyone that I am well." You pulled your hands from hers and lowered your head in respect to the monarch before turning and resuming your walk down the hall.
Another deep breath and you reached the one of the many guest bedchambers. Most of your belongings had been packed up for you, likely already sitting in Robb's tent out on the field. You dismissed the servants that offered to help you ready for bed, only agreeing to have a warm bath drawn so you could relax after the day's events.
Slipping out of your wedding dress, you watched it slump on the cool floor and stepped out of your shoes. You released your hair and ran your fingers through it as you dipped one leg into the bath and then the other. The water dug into your skin, easing away at the tension in your muscles. A soft sigh of relief escaped past your lips, shoulders dipping below the surface. You leaned your head back against the wall of the tub, eyes fluttering shut and mind forgetting about the day.
You would've stayed in the tub for the rest of the night, even slept in it, if it hadn't been for the sound of the door creaking open. Your eyes snapped open and you lifted your head, gazing down at the water as heavy boots stepped across the room. Robb passed by the tub, shedding his coat and draping it over a chair. You brought your knees up to your chest when he turned.
"I thought you would've been asleep by now." He spoke softly, undoing the buttons of his vest. "Are you feeling better?"
The consummation. You nearly grimaced. "No."
"Should I call for a maester?"
"It's likely nerves, My Lord."
"We're husband and wife now. You may call me Robb." He gave a boyish smile and you turned to look at the towel perfectly folded on the stool beside you. You reached for it and let it unravel outside of the tub, eyes jumping back to the Stark. Robb's fingers had paused on the last button, attention trained fully on you but when he noticed the icy look, he turned his back. You stood, the water sloshing around as you dried yourself and retrieved a nightgown.
"I would like to sleep in my old room tonight. It's likely the last time I'll see it."
"I'd like to believe that, (Y/N). But I am no fool. I am your husband, you may speak openly with me." Your jaw clenched at his words. He claimed to be no fool yet remained oblivious to your anger. "And I hope you'll grow comfortable enough to sleep at my side."
Picking up a candle, you lifted it to the lantern keeping the room lit and pulled away once the fire flickered onto the end of the wax. "I believe your lover would prefer otherwise, My Lord. I bid you goodnight."
He blinked. "(Y/N)-"
"I bid you goodnight."
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violette-hue · 2 years
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I just read ‘Let’s get to know one another’ with Robb Stark and Reader and fell in love with it! Since your requests are open, is it possible to get a second part to this fic?? Like with Talisa trying to hurt the reader after the reader and Robb reveal that they are expecting a child?? And Robb panics and freaks out on Talisa and is super worried about the reader and confesses they love the reader?
Summary: Part two to Let’s Get to Know One Another. Talisa is not happy and threatened that you are expecting Robb’s child first.
Trigger Warning(s): pregnancy, vomit, mentions of vomit, violence, mentions of violence, jealously, cheating/affair, mentions of an affair, unedited
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: Thank you so much! I happy you loved it 😊 Hopefully you’ll love this one just as much! I , however, don’t think this is one of my best works. I don’t think Talisa is an aggressive person to hurt anyone, so I  had to kinda make things up. Sorry if you don’t like it!
500 Match-Up Event
Requests are open!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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You knew Talisa would be a problem from the moment you agreed that Robb could have his affair. As of late, she had been pining for his attention more than usual. Of course, Robb had obliged. You couldn’t understand how Robb could make love to you one night, then rendezvous with Talisa the other.
To make matters worse, your feelings had grown for Robb. So much so that nearly the scent of him lingering on his pillow called you down. You loved him with every fiber in your being. If only Robb felt the same way.
You sighed, pushing a fat sausage across your plate. You had no appetite, the smell of the sausage making you more nauseous than anything. You didn’t want sausage, you didn’t want eggs or toast. You wanted stew. A nice, rich and warm beef stew. You sighed again.
“Are you alright? That’s the second time you’ve sighed,” Robb asked, looking over at you with worry.
You looked over at him startled. “I’m fine, My Lord,” you responded, placing your fork down. “Just tired.”
A couple of guards snickered, no doubt their minds in the gutter. Robb shot them a glared and they immediately ceased.
“You haven’t even had a bite of your food,” he stated, reaching over to grab your hand. He idly brushed his thumb along your knuckles.
You smiled at him in hopes to quash his worry. “I’m not hungry, my love,” you said and blushed at the pet name. We’re you allowed to address him like that in front of everyone?
Robb’s eyes softened and he smiled back. “Please do try to at least eat some of your breakfast.”
You nodded, removing your hand from his to grab your fork. All you had to do was eat one sausage, then Robb would be content. You stabbed the sausage with your fork and took a small bite. Nausea rolled through your body like violent waves and you fought to keep the small piece down. You took another bite, this time bigger and chewed. Robb smiled to you and started conversation with his mother, his eyes away from you. You took a few more bites of the sausage, chewing the meat, but not swallowing it. Once it was gone from the plate, you stood, silently excusing yourself and made way to your chambers.
Unfortunately, you weren’t able to make it to your chambers before you doubled over and vomited. A nearby handmaid rushed to your aid, pulling your hair out of your face and rubbing your back.
“Are you alright, m’lady?” she asked, helping you step away from the bile.
You shook your head. “I’m so hungry,” you said, wiping your mouth with your handkerchief. “But I can’t stomach breakfast.”
The handmaid smiled sheepishly. “Would you like to make a request of the kitchen?”
You thought for a moment. You didn’t want to bother the kitchen staff with a silly request. But, ultimately, you didn’t think you could stomach anything but beef stew.
You nodded. “Please—beef stew.”
The handmaid arched her brows, a look of surprise drawn on her features. The surprise quickly left and was replaced with a small, gleeful smile.
“I’ll let the cooks know and bring the stew to your chambers.”
You nodded and made your way to your chambers. Tiredness seeped into your bones out of nowhere and you sat down at the foot of your bed. Perhaps, if you just lay down for a bit...
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The next few days were just as bad. You couldn’t keep any food you weren’t craving down, and it was harder to vomit in secrecy. A few times you had to completely miss meals, for the smell was too nauseating. Robb grew worried, and finally asked Maester Luwin to have a look at you. 
“I’m afraid My Lady will be in this condition for quite some time,” the maester spoke, rinsing his hands in a bowl of water. 
“Condition?” Robb asked, his arms crossed tightly along his chest. 
“A child,” Maester Luwin stated, a large smile pulling on his lips. “Congratulations, My Lord.”
Robb looked to you, then to the Maester. His arms slowly uncrossed and reached for you. 
“A child,” Robb repeated, eyes locked on your stomach in awe. “Do you know how far along?”
Maester Luwin shook his head. “How long has it been since your last cycle?”
You thought for a second. “A month and a half...” you responded, trailing off. Had it really been that long? Between worrying over Robb and Talisa’s relationship and vomiting nearly every day, you guessed you had lost track of time. And also lost track of your cycle. 
“Then my guess is about four to six weeks. Give or take. If I may give some advise, My Lord... It’s best to keep this good news quiet until My Lady is showing.”
“I understand,” Robb responded. “We’ll need to double your guards.” Robb smiled wide and looked down. His callused hand moved to caress your abdomen. “A child...our child...”
You placed your hand over his, your cheeks hurting with how hard you were smiling. Your other hand moved behind Robb’s neck, your fingertips tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. He rest his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. 
“Thank you,” he whispered. “You’ve made me the most happiest man in all of Westeros today.”
You placed a soft kiss against his lips. “We must tell your mother at once,” you insisted. “No one else will know.”
Robb nodded and the two of you stood there for what seemed like ages, smiling until your cheeks were sore. 
Catelyn had taken the news wonderfully. She had cried almost immediately after telling her, and since then she’s been a huge support with your pregnancy. Your morning sickness and nausea to certain foods had been nearly cured with her remedies. She kept a close eye on what you ate and craved, claiming to know the gender of the baby just on that knowledge alone. She claimed it was a boy. The thought made you smile. A boy would be wonderful, and his name would be Eddard. Like his late grandfather. 
Of course you had yet to tell Robb these things. How could you? “Your mother things our child will be a boy, and I  want to name him after your late father.” There was no possible way you could bring that up organically. Robb hadn’t even brought up any possible names. 
You shifted in your shared bed to get more comfortable. Only, you couldn’t. Robb’s chest was flush against your back and your legs intertwined. His hand lay protectively against your now growing bump. A bump that was now very hard to conceal under furs, cloaks, and muffs. Gods if you didn’t sit up now you might be crushed by your own child. You wiggled again to free yourself.
“Stop moving,” Robb mumbled. You craned your neck to see his face. His eyes were still closed and a loving smirk etched across his lips. He pulled you further into him.
You huffed and continued to try and get up. You pushed his leg off of yours and maneuvered your hips to push him back. Robb groaned behind you and in an instant you were laying on your back, pinned to the bed by your husband. He looked at you with feral eyes and pressed himself against you.
“I warned you, darling,” Robb said, his voice darker now. His head dipped and his lips found place on your neck. His tongue darted from his lips to draw pleasurable circles along a vein.
In any other circumstance you’d welcome this, trailing your nails along Robb’s bare back and whispering his name. But right now was not that circumstance. Robb pressing against you only made you have to pee more and now your baby was practically sitting on your lungs.
“Robb,” you gasped. You felt him smile against your neck and you placed your hands against his chest. “Robb, stop. I can’t breathe.”
He pushed himself off of you at the same time he pulled you up. “What’s wrong?” His eyes darted to your now very noticeable baby bump. “Is it the baby?”
You nodded and took deep breaths. “It’s just—” Another deep breath. “—it feels like he’s sitting right on my lungs when I lay down like that.”
Robb arched a brow. “He?”
A bashful blush creeped up your neck and you stood, your fingers running along your swollen belly. “Your mom thinks it’s a boy.”
Robb chuckled softly and moved to you. “I’m guessing she’s spinning you old wives tales about cravings?”
You nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Amongst other things. But I think I believe her. He feels very troublesome.”
“Arya’s very troublesome. I’m not quite sure that proves anything.”
“That’s true…” You worked your bottom lip between your teeth. Now was the perfect time to bring up names for your babe. “I was thinking—”
A rushed knock shook the door to your chambers, startling you. Robb sighed deeply, almost as if he were annoyed by the interruption.
“Enter,” he called, tugging over a loose linen shirt.
You grabbed your fur lined robe near by and hugged it on as well. Your room was warm and toasty now only for the fire in the fireplace. Once that door opened all the cold would seep in here. You climbed into bed, placing the covers up to your shoulders in hopes it would somewhat conceal your belly.
No announcement had been made yet, so no one knew you were with child. Save the Maester and Catelyn, of course. The announcement would be made later in the week, Robb just hasn’t chosen a day. It felt almost as if he were reluctant to tell his people. You guessed it was for your safety, and not to hide it away. He barely wanted you to leave the walls of Winterfell as it was, and you were always accompanied by a guard wherever you went.
“My Lord, Lady Talisa is demanding to speak with you,” the guard said once he was inside. His eyes fart between you and Robb and a look of sympathy crossed his features. And that made you angry.
“Send her—”
“Bring her in,” you demanded, interrupting Robb.
He turned to you, and you could tell he was angry. “Why?”
You narrowed your eyes and shot Robb a glare mustered with an anger you didn’t think you were capable of feeling. “She’s come all the way here—to our chambers. Clearly it’s important.”
The guard reluctantly exited your chambers, but kept the door held open. His presence was quickly replaced by a frantic and blubbering Talisa.
“Robb,” she choked out, rushing to your husband. She practically threw herself on top of Robb, her arms shaking around his neck. “Robb—”
Robb pulled Talisa’s arms off of him and pushed her back gently. “Why did you come here?”
A chill ran down your spine. You had never heard Robb speak like that. He was emotionless, indifferent. You watched as Talisa stumbled back, shocked. Her brows knit together and tears freely fell down her cheeks.
“Why are you being so cold?” Talisa asked, bringing her hands to her chest.
“You’ve come to my private chambers I share with my wife. Why have you disturbed us?”
Talisa scoffed. “Your wife? Us? Might I remind you that you were the one who sought me out to have an affair. How would your wife feel knowing I was here? How would she feel when she finds out I’m with child. Your child?”
Cold fingernails raked down your spine and squeezed your heart. She was with child? Robb’s child? You looked to Robb, desperately trying to hold back tears. He was already looking at you, moving towards you.
“I swear on my father’s grave that is not my child,” Robb insisted, grabbing your hands in his.
You stated at him, numb. How could you believe him? This affair had been going on since before your marriage. After all, you were the other woman. You felt a tear run down your cheek, followed by another, then another.
“I swear,” Robb pleaded. “When I found out you were with child I stopped pursuing her, I swear. I haven’t touched her in these six months.”
You pulled your hands away from his grasp. “I don’t believe you,” you whispered. Your throat opened and closed, preparing for a shattering sob. You crawled out of the bed and padded towards the separate bathing chamber.
You stole a glance at Talisa. She looked to be in shock, her eyes focused on your swollen belly. When she caught your eye, her expression quickly changed to a smirk.
“Robb will always choose me,” Talisa said, placing her hands on her hips. “Im the one he really wants.”
Those words stung. You always knew that. Robb had made it very clear from the beginning. You were just a fool to think Robb was starting to love you. That a baby could actually change something between the two of you.
You didn’t answer, and instead continued to the bathing chambers. It was so hard to walk. The grief coupled with your child in your womb threatened to tip you down. You took another step and your knee wobbled.
Talisa gripped your arm as you tried to take another step forward. “It’s rude to ignore people, My Lady.”
Your other knee wobbled, giving out. You fell to your knees and in an instant and every emotion rushed into you at once. A sob pushed pass your lips and shook your body. You had never experienced this type of betrayal of this magnitude. You knew Robb loved Talisa more, why would you ever try to think otherwise? You heard Robb shout and felt strong arms wrap under your arms.
“Are you hurt? Is the baby alright?” Robb asked hurriedly.
You pushed away from Robb and steadied yourself. You rubbed your eyes to clear the tears clouding your vision and opened your mouth to speak.
“I didn’t do anything!” Talisa shouted.
You looked to her and suddenly realized the reality of the situation. She had grabbed you. Hard. And you had fell. Though that had nothing to do with Talisa’s actions, Robb hadn’t seen it that way. The guards from outside your chambers had rushed in when Robb shouted, and they know held Talisa tightly by both arms.
Robb was now in front of you, examining your body for any injuries. “Are you hurt?” he repeated.
You nodded. You were fine, aside from your slightly bruised knees. The cold stone floor wasn’t exactly cushioning.
“I’m—” The gods had a cruel sense of humor. You winced as you felt a sharp kick to your kidney. How cold such a small child in your womb have this much strength?
But of course Robb didn’t know your child was using you as a personal target dummy. His face paled and he quickly escorted you to sit on the nearest surface—your vanity chair. He knelt at your side, placed a hand on your bump and looked to the guards.
“Take that woman far away from here,” he ordered. “I, Robb Stark, first of my name, King in the North nearby banish you. That unborn child is not mine, and you will pay for your crimes.”
You supposed you should stop this. After all, Talisa was an innocent woman. She had harmed you in no way physical, and had not harmed your baby either. But with her gone, you would have Robb all to yourself. She would no longer come in between you and your husband.
You looked down and caressed your pregnant belly. It was the greater good. You’d do anything for your child.
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Part 3
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knownoking · 10 months
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i actually hate talisa maegyr. i think her whole plot with robb was so stupid. like in the books robb’s marriage with jeyne is this tragic situation that’s really a culmination of the stress and grief that robb has been going through and unable to truly process because he is a child trying to lead his people in a war. he gets injured and then learns that his former best friend has just betrayed him, captured his home, and killed both of his younger brothers which adds to growing list of loss in his life. his father got executed, his sisters are being held hostage, his best friend betrayed him, and now his brothers are dead. so while he’s injured and kind of being consumed by his grief, jeyne westerling is there to comfort him and they do the deed and this only makes things worse because of how robb was raised and instilled with his father’s honor, as well as seeing how jon was raised, robb feels compelled to marry jeyne to preserve HER honor which ends up being his downfall. but nooooo in the show robb falls in love with foreign beauty talisa maegyr and dies because he’s an idiot and couldn’t keep it in his pants. like don’t get me wrong i love robb’s scenes in the show richard madden call me i just think the story could have been so much better and been true to the tragedy that it is in the books.
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stormborns · 2 months
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GAME OF THRONES 2.08, The Prince of Winterfell
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atopvisenyashill · 19 days
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Sorry to be a bother but I’m obsessed with your nedcat sex headcanons like omg
lakjsfd listen george put that "it was a good soreness" line in there and i'm supposed to NOT think about how ridiculous those two must have been and how traumatized Robb probably was because they're discreet but also He Knows What Theyr're Doing He Saw That Hickey On Ned's Neck Dammit and he can't complain to anyone because Theon just laughs at him, Jon hates knowing about this even more than Robb does, Jory thinks its romantic, and Bran is not old enough to know how embarrassing their parents are. Arya asks why Robb always looks upset when Ned brushes Cat's hair out of her face and then Cat yanks him in to kiss and Robb just fully walks away and goes outside to hit something.
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echos-muses · 2 months
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i want to infodump to someone SO BAD
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