#i hate killing robb

[rise-my-angel]

jon and robb being killed in the same way (a knife in the heart from someone they trusted) is very close and personal to me and also something that makes me wish i was dead

ISN'T IT JUST THE BEST AND WORST THING???

Both now in the highest position of the order in which they serve, both in the middle of their own fights rallying men for the right cause for the sake of their families and safety of the North. Both are lulled into a false sense of security and are attacked to incapacitate them before being stabbed in the heart by the very trusted men around them.

Jon being a warg means his mind is currently inside Ghosts head, and of course Robb Starks head-

#also at the same time robb is killed with multiple wounds to his body #jons body is shot and riddled too with arrows incapacitating him #only to return to the waking world properly to learn of robbs fate #i love it and i hate it

[6ebe]

can’t believe I just saw this video on YouTube who’d say this 😱

#this isn’t even hate I just saw this YouTube video title and wanted to #make it abt Charles so #like the actual video title was abt got and it was saying robb should have killed jaime to win so the point is the video was wrong anyway #f1 #charles leclerc #I made a version with Horner too maybe I should post that would that annoy less people #but I think it would also be less funny ..

[knownoking]

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.

#sorry for ranting #i’m very passionate about this #justice for robb stark #robb stark #talisa maegyr #jeyne westerling #game of thrones #asoiaf #richard madden #catelyn stark #ned stark #jon snow #bran stark #rickon stark #sansa stark #arya strak #house stark #oona chaplin

[floatyflowers]

Dark Platonic Mothers! HOTD/GOT (Cersei, Alicent, Sansa, and Rhaenyra) x Reader

Cersei Lannister

"You never love anything in the world the way you love your first child"

You are Cersei's first and only trueborn child with Robert.

Even though, your mother hates your father, doesn't mean you are hated, it is quiet the opposite.

Cersei would sacrifice everything to ensure that you stay by her side.

She would fight off any possible arranged marriages that Robert might have in mind for you.

Marrying you to Robb Stark? Cersei will make sure that Robert has horrible nights, until he removes this idea from his mind.

Joffrey doesn't dare to harm you in any way, because he knows what his mother would do to him if he touches a hair on your head.

After your younger siblings' deaths, Cersei becomes filled with paranoia that she might outlive you too.

She will make sure that you are kept safe even if it means stripping you away from your freedom.

Alicent Hightower

You are her favorite child without a doubt.

Maybe it is because you are not as drunk and perverted as Aegon or as vengeful and dangerous as Aemond or as dreamy and strange as Helaena.

Of course, there is also Daeron but he is in Oldtown, so he is not around as much for Alicent to favor him.

As a baby, you never caused tantrums when she came to spend time with you.

You consider her your friend, and tell her all your secrets.

Even that secret where you had a crush on a stable boy.

Strange how the boy disappeared the next day with a trance.

When Otto suggested the idea of marrying you off to Tyland Lannister, Alicent turned the idea down.

She would never give up your happiness, she would kill for your sake.

Sansa Stark

You are hers and Ramsay's daughter.

But you were given her last name, as Sansa didn't want you to be connected to the Boltons.

She thought she would hate you, but when she held you in her arms for the first time, she couldn't help but love you.

Like a little pup, you started following your mother around ever since you learned how to walk.

Sansa prefers it that way, you and her spending time together.

You filled the hole in her heart after her mother's death, she wants to have the same mother-daughter relationship with you as she had with her mother.

Everything was going on well, until Arya decided to visit Winterfall.

The moment your Aunt started speaking about her travels is the moment you realize you want to explore the outside world.

Sansa made sure that her younger sister is not welcome to speak to you again, especially after she accused her of locking you away like some bird.

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Your mother turned into a completely different person after the death of your younger brother, Luke.

She announced the annulment of your marriage to Aemond, even though it was already consummated.

She has forbidden you from returning to King's Landing to get your daughter, claiming it was too dangerous for you, and that your daughter is better off with her father.

Rhaenyra can't bear to lose you just like how she lost Luke or Visenya.

When you try to escape, you are caught and your dragon is taken away from you, given sleeping herbs to put the beast to sleep.

When you called her a hypocrite for wanting to protect you as a mother, but at the same time, forbidding you from seeing your own daughter.

Rhaenyra would only hug you tightly and forcibly by grabbing into your head.

"You have to sacrifice for me, just like I sacrificed for you and your siblings"

This is when you realize that your mother truly deserves to be compared to Maegor the Cruel.

#tw: toxic relationships #yandere house of the dragon #platonic yandere #daughter reader #alicent x reader #rhaenyra x reader #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #sansa stark #cersei lannister

[jaeedraszaerysz]

JON SNOW ☆ DATING HCS

SFW 💕💕

It would probably take him a while to trust you if you hadn't known him very long.

If you grew up with or close to the Starks he tried to befriend you before Robb did

He would always be scared that he would steal your heart away

You would spend hours mocking the men and women of the courts

When Robert Baratheon came to visit you both sat outside taking the piss out of all the Lords and ladies and any twat who dared speak low of either of you.

Tyrion Lannister defos assumed u were a couple and when you told him otherwise, he just shook his head.

Catelyn would probably despise you for being so close to him.

Ned would love you though, thanking the gods silently that the boy had someone by his side.

He would probably have kissed you before he left for the nights watch and spent his nights wondering whether leaving you was worth it all.

When you eventually found your way back to him it was rather chaotic.

You were probably interrogated by tormund on arrival

Atleast until Jon saw you, never forgetting your face.

You probably punched him square in the face and then proceeded to have a huge, westeros equivalent of Oscar worthy, makeput session infront of everyone.

Ghost, when not growling at random twats, would act like a second protector when Jon wasn't by your side.

Arya either loves you or hates you

Sansa is, just like her father was, happy Jon has someone.

Bran doesn't care. He's too busy wheeling around doing seven eyes Sparrow shit or whatever he called it.

You and Davos defos spend ages tryna talk some sense into him.

He always seems to be holding you in some way

Whether it be your arm, hand, waist. He would probably play with your hands or you hair often.

Is always bloody staring

Like never stops

His eyes are for you and only you

Takes. You. Everywhere.

Like no debates. He goes, you follow. Or vice versa.

He took you with him to meet with ramsay and if he made any comment whatsoever it was straight up a routine by now.

Death stare, holds onto you twelve times tighter, kills the offender within 24 hours.

Loves it when you fall asleep on him because he's happy you feel safe with him.

Head kisses.

Need I say more?

Everywhere anytime.

Head. Fucking. Kisses.

Walking past. Head kiss.

Sat next to him at dinner. Head kiss.

In an extremely serious situation requiring your full attention. Head kiss.

Dying. Head kiss.

It's like his fucking bread and butter.

When you first met daenerys it was bad vibes.

Like very bad.

No clue why she just doesn't sit right with you.

Either grows to love you or ends up hating you with a passion.

No in-between.

He dreams of having a normal life.

He would want three kids, two boys and girl so they could protect their sister.

Maybe another direwolf or four. One for each and one for you.

Can't sleep when you aren't next to him.

Teaches you to sword fight extremely early on in your relationship.

If you were ill or pregnant he would never leave your side.

Never ever ever never.

He's convinced that you could have a hundred children and you would still be the person he loves most in the world.

Would do anything for you.

Minors DNI below this line.

NSFW ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 (implied female reader)

Worships you like no one else

Touching you always.

Passes it off for his hand on your back but in reality he's secretly caressing your ass, or will have his arms under your cloak, passing it off as a hug, and will gently squeeze your boobs.

Neck kisses.

His favourite thing in the world.

Loves to leave marks on you wherever he can.

Has definitely kissed every inch of your body

Gives no fucks about scars or hair or anything of the sort.

Boobs.

Lives laughs loves your boobs.

Will lay with his face buried in them at any time.

Minor inconvenience? Someone was being a twat? He's tired?

Boob pillow.

Will eat you out for hours.

Insatiable.

You have any problems at all? Sit on his face.

If he's had a bad day he will legit just stuff his face between your thighs.

His fave place.

Says that if you suffocated him it would be an amazing way to go.

Probably prefers giving but he will never say no to receiving.

His dick is probs like 6-7 inches.

Takes tormunds advice very seriously.

Loves to see how many fingers you can take before he stuffs you.

Will go for as many rounds as you need.

Always a gentleman, making sure your comfortable and that your satisfied.

Cockwarming he loves.

Cuddles afterwards.

He will slide out of you and pull you onto on him, pulling the blankets up and wrapping his body around yours.

Calls you love but with his gorgeous deep voice.

Has a sexy asf morning voice.

He's so whipped for you he can't function somedays.

#jon snow x reader #jon snow headcanons #jon snow hcs #got x reader #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #GoT #smut #fluff #hcs #headcannons #jonsnow #aegontargaryen #jonstark

[cdragons]

"My Girl" - Robb Stark x Forest Fairy!Reader Drabble

A/N: This goes out to my girl, @dipperscavern! She needed a pick-me-up after the Tumblr app decided to be a bitch and delete her draft!!! But she still pressed on and wrote an incredible Robb Stark smut drabble! Pls go check it out!

"Please, Jon," Robb pleaded. "Just for today, and I'll make it up to you."

"Your mother will kill me if she finds out," Jon groaned. Normally, he'd be more than happy to cover for his brother, but what he was asking for was too much - even for him. "She hates me enough as it is."

"She doesn't hate you," Robb winced at the lie, but he was desperate. "Please, I have to see her."

"Why can't you see her tomorrow?" asked his half-brother. "The hunt is tomorrow anyway, you can just sneak away to see her then."

Robb shook his head. "You know how she feels about hunts. The moment the horn blows, she'll scatter far away, and I won't be able to see her for a week! A week - that's too long!"

Jon stared at his brother in complete disbelief at his dramatics. It was hard to believe that the first son of Ned Stark, Warden of the North, would be so far gone for a girl who lived so deep in the forest. A girl who lived a life completely shrouded herself in the mysterious beauty of the ancient woods.

A girl whose allure and grace were of a being so ethereal, she shouldn't exist.

Jon sighed. "Fine, I'll watch over Bran and Rickon by myself today - but if Father asks me, I'm telling him you skipped on your own!"

His brother whispered his shouts to avoid attracting attention from the rest of the keep, but Robb was already on his horse and raced out of the gates before he finished. He couldn't want to see you - his girl, his fairy, his mythic love.

Robb soon reached a part of the forest known to only very few in the North - his father included. The Starks were not only the Wardens of the North but the keeper of its ancient secrets.

Once he rode past the invisible barrier - accessible by those that carry the blood of House Stark - the wintery abode filled with white snow and blue ice melted away to a world of iridescent green trees and a kaleidoscope of colors eternally blooming. He finally saw the red leaves of the ancient weirwood tree whose twin linked your worlds together. Under the magnificent branches, he felt an explosion of love burst inside him at the sight of you.

You - his one and only love - sitting on the gnarled and overgrown roots of your tree. Your feet were bare as you only wore simple white linen dress that hugged your curves beautifully. He saw the flowers and small buds braided into your dark, wavy, umber-brown tresses.

"Fairy!"

Robb called out the nickname he had given you since he first met you in these woods as a child. He felt life flow inside him as he watched you turn around and saw the bright smile spread across your face. As soon as he was close enough, he slowed his steed to stop before jumping off and racing to the ancient tree where you and him would rendezvous in secret.

"Robb!" you called out. You waved in excitement before lightly jogging forward to meet him halfway.

Robb immediately took you in his arms and held you in a tight embrace. He pressed his nose into your locks and breathed in the lavender and wild grass notes. He felt time slow down until it seemed like the whole world stopped. Robb knew such a thing was impossible, but he thought many things were impossible before meeting you.

You slightly nudged him away until his face slightly hovered above yours. On your tiptoes, until they dug into the soft dirt beneath you, you firmly pressed your lips to his and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your mortal lover gladly reciprocated and tightened his arms around your waist until your chests were firmly pressed against each other.

When you finally parted for air, Robb lovingly stared at how beautifully flushed your cheeks became. He watched in a lust-ridden gaze at how your fingers swiftly undid the ties in front of your dress. He felt his breath stop as the garment pooled at your feet. Your body was completely bare and unclothed, and your skin was unmarred and looked silky-soft. You took his hand and held it at your breast - he could feel how fast and hard your heart was beating.

He wondered if you even knew how much of his breath you took away.

"I want to feel you, my love," you whispered. "Just us, under our tree, where only the witnesses of our love are our gods."

Robb choked back a groan. If he felt his cock growing hard at the sight of your skin, your words made his cock weep for your wet walls.

Gods, he loved you so much - how could he refuse?

Hurriedly, he took off his cloak and laid it down on the ground before removing his clothes with your help; Robb was just as bare and naked as you were. You gasped at the sight of him.

How could one man be so beautiful? How did such beauty become possible? How blessed were you to receive his love?

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. His tongue swiped your bottom lip, and your lips parted to grant his access to fully devour you. When it felt like you would collapse from the lack of air, his lips trailed down your neck. You heard him murmur against your skin.

"I love you."

He repeated it over and over again, and your breathing became heavier as he continued to trail down. On the tops of your breasts, he deeply breathed the addictive perfume of your skin and began to lay kisses within the valley. His gentle hands roamed and caressed your skin with so much tenderness as his fingers reached that soaked spot between your plush thighs. He slowly slid his fingers inside you, and he growled at how much your slick arousal coated his calloused fingers.

You, on the other hand, felt completely lost in the sea of pleasure Robb was drowning you in. He was gentle. He always was with you, but today...it felt like he was the one who would completely fall apart without you.

Despite you were in full knowledge that it was truly the opposite.

Because for all of his Northern roughness, he was a man who loved with all his heart. He was utterly loyal to those he loved and cherished—a sentiment he shared especially with you, and you could not have been more grateful.

"I want to be here with you," he softly mumbled. "I could never want for anything else if I lived the rest of my life here, with you and our children. You, my pretty fairy, as the mother of my children, and me, your loyal wolf, forever protecting you."

He felt your core clench at his words as hot pleasure shot up your spine. It was a dream the two of you often shared - a life without obligations or duty, no fussy mothers or pushy fathers to stand in your way, and no empty and bleak futures looming over you. A life where it was just the two of you, riding through your forest with your horses, the woods filled with the laughter of your children. And when the day ended, the night would be filled with endless pleasure as your thoughts would only be full of him and his full of you.

You tenderly stroked the curls from his face as you felt the dam holding your pleasure slowly breaking.

Your chest was heaving. "It will, my sweet wolf," you promised. "Ours is a love no one can take away—the gods have shown it to me. After all, our gods are the ones who brought us together in the first place."

It was not long until you completely fell apart and gushed over his fingers. Your back arched as you coated your inner thighs and his fingers with your slick. Robb huskily chuckled as he pressed kisses down your stomach as you tried to catch your breath. Your fingers intertwine with his lovely, auburn curls in an attempt to anchor yourself to this material plane.

"Lie down," he softly ordered. "I won't take you against the harsh bark of a tree."

"Oh, but on your cloak in the dirt is an acceptable alternative?" you teased despite lowering against the soft, dark furs of your lover's fine cloak.

He smirks at your mirth as he crawls toward you. His perfect form hovering over you as if you were prey and he was about to devour you whole.

"Of course," he confirmed. "After all, I plan to take you on it until the only word you know how to say is my name, and the furs soak up all of your cum until it's all I can smell on it until the end of time."

Biting your bottom lip in anticipation, you could hardly wait for him to make good on his promise.

Robb aligns his cock at your entrance, its head red and its tip leaking with precum, as he slowly pushes inside you as wraps his hand in yours. He was only halfway inside you before he fully pushed himself in and completely bottomed out.

You cried as white, hot pleasure shot up your spine and flooded every nerve in your body. You felt so full and could hardly wrap your head around the fact that you and Robb's bodies were joined together as one.

"Fuckin'- fuck," he gasps out. "How is it you're so tight every time I take you?"

"Because I'm yours, Robb," you answered breathlessly. "My body was made for you as yours was made for me. Such pleasures could only exist between us - us and no one else."

Feeling the pool of pleasure in his stomach overflowing at your words, Robb begins to slowly thrust - in and out - until he reaches a steady rhythm that makes you senselessly babble as you feel your body becoming dull to everything but Robb. You felt every slow drag of his hips, every lingering trail of his touch, every hot breath on your skin, and you wondered how one man could make you feel so good.

He hits that spot inside you—the one that makes you see stars that only he could reach. Your eyes roll back, and you beg him to kiss you. A wish he complies without question—because what is his purpose if not to grant your every wish in his power?

It isn't long until he feels your walls clenching around his cock, and he can feel his control quickly slipping.

"Fairy, my fairy," he pleads against your lips. "'m close, 'm cumming."

"In-inside, my love," you beg. "I want you to spill your seed inside me. Let it take root in my womb, and our child grow."

Your grip on his hand tightens as your love's thrusts become quicker and sloppy, and he hits that spot inside you even more harshly and roughly. You scream as your walls clamp down on his member as your arousal spills out and coats his cock. He quickly follows after you, pushing himself as deep as he can to fill your womb with his seed as a groan resonates deep within his chest.

Despite the exhaustion flooding his muscles, Robb does not collapse atop you or pull out. Instead, he presses a soft kiss on your sweaty temple and lies by your side. He holds you close and breathily chuckles at how close to sleep you look in his arms. He places a small peck on your nose and smiles at how it scrunches so adorably.

"Rest now, my love. I'll be here when you wake."

You let out a loud yawn. "Good...believe it or not, this isn't what I had planned for us."

"Oh? And what were we supposed to do before you...distracted me?"

Robb raises his brow before smirking at the memory of how you initiated seducing him. You swatted his arm.

"My mare successfully gave birth to a foal. He's so beautiful - a red and white coat. I already love him."

"Have you named him?"

"Yes, Kodak."

Robb wanted to ask why you decided to name him that of all things, but you were burrowed in his chest - already in a deep sleep. With a content smile, he followed suit and met you in a dream. A beautiful dream where it was just you, him, your children, and 'Kodak.' All of you laughing and smiling in your beloved woods.

Underneath the weirwood tree, you and he met all those years ago - when you were still a sprite, and he was still a boy. Underneath the weirwood where Robb saw you for the first time, and he swore to the Old Gods and New that he would love only you for the rest of his life.

A promise he swore then, a promise he still keeps, and a promise that remains true until his last breath.

@dipperscavern, if you've died from an overload of fluff and love delulu fantasies...then I've done my job

#robb stark x reader #robb stark smut #robb stark imagine #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagines #game of thrones #robb stark #forest fairy #asoiaf x reader #asoiaf

[chloe-skywalker]

For You - Robb Stark

Robb x fem!reader Baratheon/Lannister

Warnings: GOT, incest mentioned

Word count: 718

Summary: Y/n’s uncle has been captured in the war between her blood family and her family by law. The one person that really cared about her growing up. Will her husband kill the one person closest to his wife?

Authors Note: I know Jaime did a lot of crap to the Starks but I like this story and I’m not sorry. 

Masterlist

Game Of Thrones Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Robb stood there in their shared tent staring at his wife. He knew she was hurting but was bottling it up. She didn’t want to look weak or like a traitor to their men but Robb knew it wasn’t healthy. He could see it taking a toll on her and that was starting to hurt him as well. Once the last person had left the tent and they were alone Robb decided it was time to talk about it. “I am sorry my love.”

“For what your Grace?” Y/n asked confused on what he had to be sorry for.

“I know it hurts you to see him typed up out there.” Robb stated, cutting straight to the chase but still wanting to be considerate of her feelings.

It was silent for a few minutes. Y/n had a feeling that he had been wanting to bring this up for awhile. But Y/n didn’t know how exactly to explain how she felt about the situation.

“He is my uncle. He’s the only person that’s always been there for me and supported all my decisions.” Y/n couldn’t even begin to explain all that Jaime had done for her in her life. “My father could give a crap about us kids and my mother only cares about power. Jaime, he actually cares.”

Robb had seen first hand when they visited Winterfell how her parents were. And he saw how close she was with her Kingsgaurd uncle. “I’m sorry.”

Robb knew they had good parents growing up, one’s that cared. His wife didn’t have that.

“And if the rumors are true than I guess, he’s my blood father.” Y/n feared  saying it out loud. Not anything against her ‘Uncle’, but the fact why would anyone want to be around or love the child of incest. She had a hard enough time finding love  just having Lannister blood run through her veins. “That makes me someone you shouldn’t be with.”

Y/n dropped her head trying to hide her tears and defeated expression. She had truly come to fall in love with her husband and now because of her family's mistakes she could lose him.

Robb rushed over to her cupping her cheeks and pulled her inot a passionate kiss. “I love you, I do not care about who your parents are. My love for you will never change. That I promise.”

Y/n gave him a watery smile. “I love you to my wolf.”

“I won’t kill him.” Robb spoke up after some time.

Y/n pulled back to look at her husband, giving him a sad but appreciative smile. The fact that he wants to spare Jaime for her is heartwarming, but she knew he couldn't. “You can’t promise me  that. As much as you’d like to, you can’t. If your men-”

“Fuck what my men want.” He cut her off. He was King of the North now he could do what he wanted.

“He injured your father.” Y/n continued back with sad eyes.

“He’s not the one that killed him.” Robb pulled her closer by the hips. Yes she had a point with both things. But so did he.

“I’m sorry-”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Robb cut her off again. She was not to blame for anything that had happened.

“They’re my family, and they're tormenting yours. Their the ones doing all this.” Y/n hated that she was put into the middle of everything just because of blood and marriage.

“You’ve been with me the whole time. You have had no part in it. In any of it, so none of it is your fault. You are not to blame. They’re tormenting you as well by putting you in the middle of all this.” Robb pulled her against his chest with an arm around her waist holding her to him, while the other rested on the back of her neck. Looking her in the eye’s to prove his seriousness. “I won’t kill Jaime. For you I won’t. But the other Lannisters. . .”

Y/n nodded knowing what he meant. “I know. . . Thank you.”

“You are my wife, my Queen. You do not need to thank me.” Robb shook his head. With him she’d always have a voice. He would never dictate her life.

Taglist: @gruffle1 @padawancat97 @misspendragonsworld

@starkleila

#robb stark #robb stark imagine #robb stark imagines #robb stark x reader #robb stark x lannister reader #robb stark x lannister!reader #robb stark x baratheon reader #robb stark x baratheon!reader #x reader #imagine #imagines #y/n #north #winterfell #kingslanding #got #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones imagines

[axelsagewrites]

Ramsay Bolton*My Father Would Kill Me

Pairing: Ramsay x F!Reader

Summary: The reader decides to try convince Ramsay to help her family in less honrouble ways.

Requested by @darkrose33

Warnings: Ramsay, swearing, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, fingering, humiliation, spanking, rough sex 18+

Word count: 3411

A/N: Ramsay is a terrible terrible person who did terrible terrible things that I do not condone...however Iwan Rheon made him so attractive in a strange way so you cannot blame me for writing smut for him

Masterlist Here

Ever since Ned Stark had died and Robb rode off into war the north had fallen into what you honestly thought was madness. The trade between Winterfell and the rest of the North had basically been cut off then randomly started again then slowed down then stopped then picked up again. Crime was all over the place since there was no Stark to fear.

Lords began to try snatch more power after Robb was murdered and the fights. Good gods the fights between houses and lords and ladies were endless. Petty fights turned into alliance breaking feuds. Up until recently your family had been relatively okay. until wilding attacks began more frequent in the surrounding villages. Before the Starks deaths they used to send men patrolling around the villages and outskirts for criminals and wildings, but the Boltons had no continued this. They didn’t care how the rest of the north was as long as they had Winterfell.

“We can’t continue like this,” you overheard your father tell your mother, “I must go to the Boltons and plead for their help,”

“What use is that? Roose hated you before he took the castle. You think he’ll help us now?”

But then the news came. Roose Bolton was dead. many said it was his bastard son had killed him and was the new Lord Bolton of Winterfell. Everyone knew before her death Catelyn Stark was terrified that a bastard would take Winterfell from Robb. How could she know that the bastard would turn out to be Ramsay Bolton?

Despite the news making your stomach churn it gave your family a brief glimmer of hope. The enemy of my enemy is my friend after all. Your father insisted this was your only hope and bundled you into your finest furs to go to Winterfell alongside him.

Now you were sat in Winterfell with your father waiting for its new lord to come and speak to you. It was hard not to grow nervous the longer you were forced to wait for Ramsay’s arrival. You had met him once years ago as a child. He had picked you a daffodil from the gardens to give to you, he must have been no older than seven. You had found it sweet at seven but when the other children noticed they teased him for presenting a lady with a weed. Ramsay pushed over the boy who had started the teasing however unfortunately for him that had been ten-year-old Theon Greyjoy who tattled on him, and Ramsay was dragged away by his father.

However, the Ramsey that entered the courtyard where you waited with your father looked far different from before. He no longer had noodle arms and knobbly knees. He walked with confidence oozing off him and a strange look on his face you could not quite place. His hair was no longer an overgrown bird nest on his head but a curly mop of locks that fit his face. If it weren’t for the rumours, you had heard about him on first glance you would have assumed he was a respectable lord of a noble house.

When Ramsay approached you noticed almost a twinkle in his eye. He ignored your fathers outstretched hand to take your hand into his. His hands were rough, but you noticed how soft his lips were when he placed a kiss to the back of your hand, “My lady,” he greeted, “How lovely it is to see you again,”

You tried not to blush as you bowed your head and gave a slight curtsey, “As it is to see you Ramsay- “your father shot you a shocked look at your slip up, “I mean my lord,” you tried to correct but Ramsay just chuckled at your embarrassment.

“Its all right My Lady. Old habits are hard to break,” his eyes lingered on you before going to your father. “How may I be of assistance my lord?”

Your father tried to explain the situation as best he could, but you could see Ramsay bore as each word carelessly fell from your father’s mouth in a half-jumbled mess. “As you can imagine lord Bolton it can be quite the struggle. It means so much to my family-to my daughter,” he said as he grabbed your arm desperately trying to keep his interest, “If you could spare even a few men- “

“I’ll have to take some time to consider it,” Ramsay cut your father off with a fake smile that made your stomach churn, “In the meantime you’re free to roam around Winterfell. I’ll tell them to set each of you up a chamber,” Your father’s disappointment was written across his face. He hadn’t expected this whole thing to last more than a couple of hours, but Ramsay clearly enjoyed having the upper hand, “If you’ll excuse me my lord, my lady,” Ramsay bowed his head, eyes focused on you before walking away with his hands clasped behind his back.

“When Ned Stark was in charge,” your father whispered in your ear, but you gave a sharp elbow to his side, “What?” he spat.

“Give him a chance,” you shot back in a whisper, nodding your head to where the guards stood obviously trying to listen into your conversation. “Lets just wait and see,”

Once you were in a private chamber your father began his long and incessant vent. While you could understand the frustration you also just wanted him to shut up. “I have half a mind to march up to him and- “

“Let’s not be hasty,” you cut him off, practically pushing him into a chair, “Why don’t I go enquire about food and we can figure out what to do after supper? We’re clearly not going home till tomorrow anyway,” he grumbled but finally agreed.

After you had requested for the kitchen to send your father some food, hoping a full belly would calm his temper, you suddenly found yourself walking to Ramsay’s chambers where the maids told you he’d be. You knew if you left it for your father to do it would not go so well. You paused in front of the door, unsure of what to say when you went in or if he would even let you speak. It was so out of the norm for you to be in a lord’s room especially alone. Perhaps this was a mistake.

Then the door swung open. A maid with a full basket of washing stood in front of you with a shocked expression. “What is it?” you heard Ramsay call from inside.

“You have a visitor milord,” she said, her eyes darting away from you. “The lady (Y/N),”

“Send her in,” Ramsay said but you could hear the smirk in his voice.

The lady gave you a sad smile before hurrying past you. you took a deep breath before entering the room, closing the door partially behind you, “My lord,” you greeted with a curtsey.

Ramsay was stood in his trousers and undershirt, and you blushed at the sight. Without the tunic and cloak, you could see he was far more muscular than you had expected. “What happened to Ramsay?” he enquired with a raised eyebrow as he crossed the room to where you stood by the door.

He was less than a foot away from you now and you could smell the sweet musky scent off him, “It would be improper my lord,” a smirk crept on his face.

Ramsay leaned in closer, one hand moving to shut the door behind you. his ears were by your lips, and you could feel his breathing on your skin, “More improper than visiting my chambers unattended?” he said before pulling back to where he stood before.

You blushed under his gaze, “My lord I came to- “

“Ramsay,” he corrected.

“Ramsay,” you smiled, the blush now spreading to your ears, “I came to plead for you to- “Ramsay sighed as he stepped back and walked to a table that held a jug of wine and two goblets. He poured two as you repeated practically the same speal your father had. He held one out to you and you took it without instruction to which he smiled at, “So it would mean so much to me if- “

“What do I get out of this arrangement?” he asked cutting you off. You were stunned for a second as you began to stammer for a response, “I’m a reasonable person my lady. I like to think at least. Its not crazy of me to expect to be compensated for my losses,”

“Of course, my lord,” you said, “It’s just that- “

“That your father has nothing to offer?” he asked, and you nodded sheepishly, “Perhaps then we should consider other options. Perhaps you have something to offer for instance,”

“My lord im afraid I have no more than my father,”

Ramsay laughed as he finished his wine, “I promise you my lady you are very,” Ramsay began to close the gap between you, now towering over you, his eyes gazing down into yours, “very mistaken,”

A flush spread across your cheeks at the look in his eyes and your gaze fell to the floor to avoid it, “I don’t understand what you mean my lord,”

Ramsay’s fingers went to your chin which he gently pulled up to force you to meet his eyes again, “I think you do though,” he said, his voice low, “I think you wouldn’t have come to my chambers if the thought hadn’t crossed your mind,”

You swallowed and stuttered under his gaze. While you had found him incredibly handsome you were a lady. To sleep with someone before you were wed could be catastrophic, “I cannot jeopardize my virtue,”

“Who would have to know?” his head dropped so that his lips were beside your ear again.

You shivered as his hot breath kissed your skin, “Its wrong,” you stuttered, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Can it be wrong if it feels so good?” he whispered before placing a kiss behind your ear.

You gasped slightly at the gesture and felt his smirk against your skin, “My father would kill me,”

Ramsay pulled back from your neck and took your face into one of his hands, his thumb stroking across your cheek bone, “As if I would let him to such a thing to such a pretty little thing,” it was hard not to lean into his touch.

“I’ve heard of the things that you do,” you stuttered, and it only caused his smirk to grow.

“A good girl doesn’t listen to the hens clucking,” he tutted, “All I have ever done to you has been kind,”

The memory of the daffodil brought a sad smile to your face, “Ramsay I- “

“If you can look me in my eyes and tell me you don’t want this, I’ll let you leave,” he said as his hand fell from your face.

His eyes never left yours however and you squirmed under his gaze, “I- “

“I’ll know if you lie,” he added as he stepped closer to you leaving no space between your bodies. His hands went to rest on your hips, “Tell me sweet girl,” he leaned closer, so his forehead was pressed onto yours, his lips an inch from your own. The words were caught in your throat as you tried to answer. “No one has to know,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over yours.

Without thinking your hands crashed onto his however while you intended a quick kiss Ramsay’s hand quickly went behind your back, pulling you closer to him and deepening the kiss. They felt like velvet against yours and you felt yourself get lost in the kiss. You had forgot about the goblet of wine you held until it fell to the floor with a clatter, the wine splashing on his fur rug. “Ramsay im so sorry,” you stammered as the kiss broke when you noticed the stain seeping into the carpet.

“Its okay,” he said taking your jaw in his hand and forcing you to face him. “You can make it up to me,” his lips dived back in for another kiss but this time his lips were far more desperate. He bit down on your bottom lip causing you to gasp into the kiss. You felt him smirk before he slid his tongue in. you moaned into the kiss at the feeling of his tongue mixing with yours.

You had kissed a couple lords before but none like this. No ones hold felt as strong as Ramsay as he pulled you as close as possible to his body. Your hands rested on his chest which felt so strong under your fingertips. Your hands crept up to his wide and muscular shoulders that were barely covered by the thin undershirt. Ramsay’s hand slid from your back to your arse that he dug his fingers in over your dress. You gasped when he suddenly spanked it and Ramsay just chuckled in response. With his hand lower down and pulling you in you could now feel his hard member pressing against you.

Without much warning Ramsay broke the kiss to harshly turn you around as he hastily began to unlace your dress. It came off quickly along with your shift. The air felt cold against your skin despite the fireplace in the corner and you flushed under his hungry eyes, “Much better than any of my dreams,” he grinned from behind you, his hands going to hold your breasts as he pressed himself to your back.

You gasped when he began to squeeze your breasts, his lips falling to press hard kisses along your neck. You felt his hard on pressing and grinding into your ass as his hands massaged and squeezed your chest. His kisses turned into sucking hickeys into your skin. “We shouldn’t,” you said but it came out as moans.

Ramsay chuckled as he let go of you before turning you to face him, “Then why are you moaning at my touch darling?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. His hand trailed down your body and your breath caught in your throat as his finger ran across your folds, “You’re so wet,” he chuckled causing your skin to turn hot, “And you’re blushing,” he laughed, “You really are desperate, aren’t you?”

His lips captured yours again this time your hands holding onto his arms to steady yourself as his finger teased you, running up and down your fold but never going in. you whined into the kiss as his finger ghosted your clit. “Please,” you whined against his lips at how tortuously gentle he was going.

 Ramsay let out a dark chuckle as two of his fingers quickly dove inside of you. the burn of him filling you up made you gasp but Ramsay didn’t stop as his fingers began to massage inside if you, “Is this what you want darling?” his other hand grabbed your jaw as he forced you to look into his eyes. “You want me to fuck you with my fingers?” The way he began to curl his fingers made you moan but you didn’t answer, “Answer me,” Ramsay gripped your jaw tighter.

“Yes, my lord,” you said.

“Im beginning to like the sound of that,” Ramsay smirked as he repositioned his hand, so his thumb was now rubbing your clit. Your fingers dug into his strong biceps as you tried to steady yourself as your legs began to feel less stable and a knot was growing in your stomach. He clashed his lips back onto yours in a messy desperate kiss. His spare hand went to your ass. He placed a hard spank on your ass before rubbing his hand over the read mark. He enjoyed your gasps and moans each time he spanked it and praised the growing red mark.

Suddenly Ramsay pulled his fingers out of you causing you to whine as the growing knot suddenly disappeared. Ramsay spanked your ass at your protest before shoving his fingers that were wet with your juices into your mouth. “Suck,” he commands, and you greedily complied. Ramsay moaned at the sight of your soft lips around his fingers, “I’m going to ruin you,” he said before he pulled his fingers back.

Without warning Ramsay almost threw you onto the bed that was thankfully soft. He didn’t waste time in crawling over your body, leaving dark hickeys across your skin as he did. You moaned at the feeling of his lips sucking your skin, your fingers in his hair pulling it gently. “You look good enough to eat,” Ramsay said, and you shivered at the suggestion. His mouth wrapped around your nipple which he began to suck on the hard bud. His hand went down to your soaking cunt, rubbing sloppy circles on your clit. This plus the way his teeth grazed your nipple caused a series of moans to fall from your lips.

Ramsay let go of your nipple before he quickly flipped you onto your front. As you lay on the bed, face in the pillow, you heard Ramsay shuffling behind you and soon he was back behind you, lifting your hips up to be against his now naked length. Ramsey began to tease his cock up and down your slit causing you to whine. “I suggest you hold onto something darling,” Ramsay said as he lined his tip up with your hole before pushing into you. you gasped as it filled you up far more than his fingers had. Your hands curled into the sheets beneath them, your knuckles turning white at how strong your grip was, “I’m not very good at being gentle,”

And with that Ramsay began his thrusts. They were deep and precise as he filled you up completely causing a mix of gasps, moans, and curses to fall from your lips. You could hear his own grunts and moans as he thrust into you. his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips which you figured would leave deep marks by the time you were done. Ramsay sped up his past, his thrusts slightly sloppier but still just as deep.

“God your amazing,” Ramsay grunted as his thrusts grew quicker. “You take me so fucking well,” he said as one of his hands moved to rub circles on your clit. Your moans only grew and to try hide muffle them your face buried into the soft pillow. Ramsay’s hand shot to grab your hair, pulling your head up and out of the pillow as he pounded into you harder, “I want to hear you,” he grunted as he relentlessly pounded into you causing loud moans to tear through your throat, “That’s it,” he said, “Moan my name,”

“Ramsay,” you moaned, your voice shaky from the pleasure building within you. Ramsay’s hand dropped your head but this time you did not try concealing the moans he caused. He slapped your ass yet again before grabbing your hips tightly. His fingers sped up their circles and your moans grew louder, “Fuck. Please Ramsay. Please don’t stop,” you begged.

“That’s right,” he said, his thrusts becoming sloppier, “Who’s making you feel this way?”

“You are,” the knot from before was back and the pressure built even quicker than before, “I think im gonna- “you tried to warn as you felt your walls start to clench around him. Ramsay had moved your hips slightly causing him to hit a new spot that sent the pressure over the edge. You were practically shaking around him as the organs ripped through your body causing your lips to almost give out.

Ramseys arm went under your hips to hold you up. His thrusts were even faster as you rode out your orgasm but the way you had began to clench around him made his own come even quicker. “Fuck!” Ramsay groaned when he suddenly spilled inside of you. his grip on you was tighter as his orgasm took his breath away.

You crashed onto the bed when Ramsay’s arm fell away from you. he soon fell beside you on the bed sweaty and naked and panting. You forced yourself to roll over and stared up at the ceiling as you realised what you had done, “My father’s gonna kill me,”

Ramsay rolled over to place a kiss to your lips, “You’re far too valuable now to let him do that love,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy

#ramsay bolton smut #ramsay bolton #ramsay bolton imagine #ramsay bolton x reader #ramsay snow #ramsay now smut #game of thrones smut #game of thrones show #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #iwan rheon #iwan rheon smut #requested #asoiaf #asoiaf smut

[what-do-1000-swords-look-like]

Rewatching 8x05 for writing reasons, which is just a brilliant episode, despite any reasons some might have to hate it, valid or invalid. Miguel Sapochnik is directing and you see his talent and epicness in every shot (that man deserves a freaking Emmy already, I said what I said) but also there are so many things being shown here that if you muted the episode after Daenerys makes her decision, during the battle scene, you would be able to tell exactly what each character is thinking and what's really going on in the story besides the surface action.

Which brings me to that one scene that a lot of people said the woman being attacked as a stand-in for Sansa in the episode for Jon. They are correct and here's how.

Jon is walking through the melee, only coming to life to defend himself when Lannister soldiers are trying to attack him. The Northerners aren't listening to him, they're attacking innocent civilians, Grey Worm is on a killing spree, Davos is trying to help people get away from the bloodshed, Dany is burning the city, Tyrion is off somewhere horrified, Cersei is watching in terror from the Red Keep... But during this scene, the sound is muted to a point where the sounds of battle happening all around Jon sound very far away. We're now seeing what Jon sees, we're in his shock fugue with him. We see on his left civilians, namely women, being brutalized by soldiers -> he keeps walking. We on his right a woman being knocked down to the ground while a child is watching in horror, blood spatter and bodies all around her (and obviously traumatized & also in danger herself since no one is left to protect her) -> he keeps walking. He then sees a Lanniser soldier telling people to run, something his soldiers should be doing (and something he himself should be doing like Davos) but he's not. While the sounds are still muted, Jon notices another Lannister soldier about to rush him and he goes into autopilot & fights the soldier off. He then looks around in horror.

This is not what he signed up for and he almost looks lost, like he doesn't know what to do. Then the sound comes back fully and he hears a scream. In all of the melee, chaos, and death around him, he hears this one woman above the rest and turns to see her being dragged into an alley to presumably be assaulted by one of his own men.

Sure enough, she's about to be and she is trying to crawl away when the man catches her again. Jon ends up saving her, threatening to run his sword through the man. When the latter tries to fight him off to go back to assault this woman, Jon kills him and tells the woman to hide.

So how is this woman standing in for Sansa besides the obvious?

Two ways.

1) Ramsay was the former Warden of the North, the former bastard of Roose Bolton who was a Northerner who "served" Robb Stark, the first King in the North, before betraying him to the Lannisters. The soldier Jon faces off with is a Northerner and is supposed to be under Jon's command as Warden of the North and the former second King in the North.

2) Sansa is who stirs Jon into action when he feels lost.

Every.

Time.

And the parallels between the gif above with Dany and the dagger to the Northern soldier that had Jon's sword run through him, and Jon's staring almost sadly at the man, realizing he had to kill one of his own are far from being coincidental.

Not only was this a precursor to what would occur in 8x06 (and why Jon would make the decision he did) but it also is symbolic of the dynamic between Jon and Sansa as a whole. She's the one who stirs him into action, no matter how terrified or traumatized or angry he might be in that moment (like the shock fugue). No matter how lost he might feel. She gives him direction and dare I say a purpose when he has none (after his death; after the WW are defeated & Dany has gone into tyrant mode).

No wonder we weren't allowed to see Sansa's (or Arya's) reaction to the news of his being a Targaryen.

No wonder Jon told Melisandre not to bring him back if he lost the Battle of the Bastards (after Sansa told him if he lost, she wouldn't be going back to Ramsay alive).

No wonder Jon was not happy with Sansa on the dock in 8x06.

She's always stirred him into action when he doesn't want to be or know how to do it himself (after his death).

He passed a woman he could have saved.

He passed a child he could have helped.

He saw someone on the other side helping and doing the right thing.

The only time he steps in to help someone else is the woman about to be assaulted.

(x) "You are the shield that guards the realms of men. You've always tried to do the right thing. No matter the cost. You've tried to protect people. Who's the greatest threat to the people now?" (no reaction)

"Do you think I'm the last man she'll execute? Who is more dangerous than the rightful heir to the Iron Throne?" (no reaction)

"And your sisters? Do you see them bending the knee?" (a little bit of a reaction)

"Why do you think Sansa told me the truth about you? Because she doesn't want Dany to be queen." (more of a reaction)

"No, but you do. And you have to choose now." (he hesitatingly goes to confront Dany and then 🗡️)

It's not just about her being his "sister" or because she's Lady Stark or family or because they were the last two Starks once upon a time. She literally stirs him into action and gives him purpose. Her pushing to go back to Winterfell led to him caring about the WW invasion again. Her being the one he chooses to protect ended a tyrant and changed history, leading for her to become the first Queen in the North and regain Northern Independence, where she can be forever safe.

It was always Sansa for him, starting in 6x04.

#jonsa #jonsa meta #jon x sansa #jonsaposts #metaposts #gotposts #game of thrones #got #jon and sansa

[dipperscavern]

secondincommand!reader getting hurt shielding robb during battle.. rubbing my hands & feet together like a fly on the wall

word count: 1.4k.. how to say oopsie in 14 different languages

robb stark x f!secondincommand!reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜.・。.・゜✭・.

war was unpredictable. anything could happen, nothing was guaranteed — except one thing. war was bloody.

he hated every time you fought with him. robb knew why you did, of course. how can you command men you won’t even fight for? why should they listen to someone who’s afraid to get their hands dirty?

you weren’t budging, & even though you knew they’d still follow you if you didn’t fight, robb didn’t, and it worked in your favor anyways. robb could barely focus when fighting, knowing you were out there, but he was the king. he had to stand strong & lead by example, so he did. & things went well enough.

until they didn’t.

robb always led the vanguard, constantly put wherever the fighting was thickest. you were usually commanding the archers, being better with a bow than you were with a sword. though skilled with both, you didn’t mind being with the archers, & theon sometimes joined you. he’d either fight beside robb or help out with the archers, and you didn’t mind the help.

the battle had gone as smoothly as battle could go so far, until you broke from the archers & took an arrow for robb.

luckily, the archer wasn’t a great shot, the arrow lodging in your upper thigh. but to robb, it didn’t matter where it settled — you were hurt.

the man who shot you was quickly cut down, & robb caught you from falling. his head swam, vision going fuzzy from the thought of you being hurt. he would’ve paused the whole goddamn war right then and there, if theon didnt wrap your arm around his shoulder and promise to get you to the medic tent.

he wanted to keep you with him, take you there himself, but theon argued-

“there’s still fighting to be done!”

& robb knew he was right. with a silent prayer to the old gods, he mounted once more, ignoring the pain in his chest as he drew his sword.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

robb’s head was swimming, filled with thoughts of only you. as soon as the fighting was done, he set off to find you. nothing could stop him, & anyone who was in his way knew to get the fuck out of it. he spotted theon escorting you back to you & his shared tent, one of your arms slinked around his shoulders. you had a bandage wrapped around your upper thigh, spots of blood showing through the fabric as you hobbled as best you could.

he ran over, entering the tent just as theon was gently setting you down on one of the chairs inside.

“thanks, theon-“

“what in seven hells was that? hm?”

you & theon’s heads turned to look at him, both of you caught by surprise at his tone. you swallowed, looking at theon — a silent plea to leave before robb’s anger turned to him. he looked at you both, before turning & walking out.

“that was me-“

“almost getting killed?”

“protecting my king.”

robb just blinks, looking at you for a second. he can’t understand how you aren’t as utterly distraught as he felt in that moment, catching you in his arms as you fell.

“y’can’t just do that! just- take arrows whenever you feel like it!”

this is the first time robb has yelled at you. ever. you know he doesn’t mean it — or at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself, to keep the tears at bay.

“i would do it again.”

robb huffs out a laugh, turning around and looking at the floor, before looking at you once more.

“this is war, okay? i don’t have time to watch you while ‘m puttin’ a sword through a man’s belly!”

“then don’t?!”

“looks like i have to!” he says, motioning to the bandage on your thigh.

you sigh, “this is war, robb. people get hurt.”

he only shakes his head.

“gods- i shouldn’t have to watch over you like a child. y’should be better than that..” he says, turning & leaving you alone in the tent.

and for once, you’re glad robb leaves. the tears rolling down your cheeks wouldve embarrassed you if he saw.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

you weren’t mad at him. by rights, you should be, & if you were, you knew nobody would blame you — but you weren’t.

you had prided yourself on being the person to fix everything. you were always the solution, not the problem. you hated the shame you felt, and even though you’d take the arrow for robb a hundred times more, you hated when he was mad at you.

still, you knew robb would come to you when he was ready. he rarely let his emotions get the best of him, & you knew how much stress he was under. you sat at the table, maps & books spread out in front of you. you were upset, and burying yourself in your work was a reasonable solution.

you stayed up until the wee hours of the morning, back aching from your hunched over form. you sighed, finally deciding to turn into the bed that’s been calling your name.

wandering hands & soft calls of your name woke you up.

you opened your eyes, brain still clouded with the fog of sleep. you woke up quickly, seeing robb’s form above you.

“robb?”

“hey, pretty.”

your brows furrowed, cheeks heating at his comment. “thought you were mad at me..”

he shook his head, gaze softening. “came to say ‘m sorry. can i?”

you nodded, tongue darting out to wet your lips. he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, your own parting to give him access.

“‘m sorry.”

he mumbled against your lips, kissing you again. his lips trailing down your neck, mumbled apologies spilling from his lips between kisses.

your breathing gets heavier as he trails down, removing your nightgown & his own clothes.

“when i saw y’ take that arrow.. gods, doe..”

he’s gentle. he always is, but more so than ever before. he’s taking his time, full on cherishing you. it’s clear in the gentleness of his calloused, war stricken hands. the very same hands that had taken the lives of lannister soldiers earlier that day were now caressing you, softly roaming your body & sliding into the slick place between your thighs.

“wanted to stop the damn war right then, right there. hold you close, never let you go.”

he feels you clench on his fingers at his words. hot pleasure shoots up your spine, the throbbing pain in your thigh now reduced to a forgotten ache. he wants to do this for the rest of his life, he thinks. take off the crown, bed you all day long. give you so much pleasure you forget a time where anything ever went wrong, fill your brain with thoughts of only him, him, him. he makes a silent promise to do so, once you both return to winterfell. reward you for all the times you’ve saved his arse out here.

“y’couldve.. wouldn’t have- mm! complained..”

he chuckles at your words, tilting his head to the side.

“yeah? woulda liked that?” you nod. “yeah, i know.. i know it, pretty.”

it’s not long after, you’re gushing on his fingers. back arching as you coat your inner thighs & his hand with your arousal. robb presses kisses to your belly as you catch your breath, hands coming to intertwine with his curls as he trails up your torso. little-

“‘m sorry.” & “forgive me? please?”

‘s are muttered between kisses, and you don’t have the heart to tell him you forgave him hours ago — before he even came back. he aligns his cock with your entrance, slowly pushing in as he wraps his hand around yours.

“didn’t mean anythin’ i said. not a word. i was- seven hells… i was so afraid.”

you’re so full. tears brim your waterline at his words, his hands, his cock — just robb. he thrusts, in & out, movements making you shutter as you’re hyper aware of everything. every touch, every slow drag of his hips. goosebumps trail along your body as you bite back a shudder, feeling utterly oh so good.

you ask him to kiss you, & he’s compliant to your every need, pressing his lips to yours. he’d fulfill your every request, go to the ends of the earth if you asked him to. what teasing he may normally shower you with is out of the window now, savoring every moment he has with you, as if you could vanish at any given point in time. watching you take that arrow reminded him of that. that you could.

he hits the right spot, over and over again, making you see stars. it’s not long before your grip on his hand tightens, walls clamping down on his cock as you cum. he follows suit, cumming with a groan that reverberates deep in his chest.

he cleans you with a damp washcloth, making sure your stitches didn’t tear either. you’re both laying on your sides, you facing his chest as his hand traces up and down your spine. the silence is comfortable.

“you forgive me?”

“i forgave you hours ago.”

your laughter echoes into the night.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜.・。.・゜✭・.

@cdragons @ghostinvenus (just lmk anytime u wanna stop being tagged!)

guys i went a little ham w this but oh well. posting smut on tumblr is soooo scary okay bye

#game of thrones #asoiaf #robb stark #robb stark x reader #robb stark imagine #robb stark prompt #theon greyjoy #second in command reader #goddddd #need his babies #LMFOA IM SORRY #me saying sorry as if i didn’t just write about him putting his cock inside of u. get out #i feel filthy posting this #perhaps i am #perhaps i’m filthy #hashtag we filthy today #sigh

[poisonsage808]

hiii! i wanted to say first off that I love your work! i always come back to them whenever I'm in need of some sandor time and they never fail to make me smile.

i wanted to ask if you could do something w/ "i was so worried. it was killing me, not being able to reach out and touch you" from that secret relationship prompt list. I thought it was fitting for sandor cause that man secretly loves physical touch does he not?

♡ Strong Enough ♡

Sandor Clegane x Stark!Reader

a/n: hello there! i see your user all the time, i’m so happy you requested something and thank you for your constant support! i tweaked it a bit to suit him more but i hope you like it xoxoxo

tw: blood, violence, death, swearing

The gods were having a laugh at him, weren't they? Giving the ugliest brute in Westeros the heart of the sweetest thing he thinks he’s ever seen in gods know how long just to take them away. Of all the people in the world to weasel their way into the Hound’s heart, it had to be you. Twin to the Young Wolf, Robb, fucking you. A fucking Stark!

You’d somehow befriended the Hound during his stay at Winterfell but then you kissed him on the way to King’s Landing. He was certain you’d hate him after he killed that butcher's boy and end whatever it was the two of you had, but you didn’t. Then he was even more certain you’d hate him after he took you and your sister, Sansa, hostage, but you didn’t. Sandor was abso-fucking-lutely certain you’d hate him after King Joffrey ordered your father to be executed… but you didn’t.

“It’s not your fault,” You told him, some of those times through flooding tears, “Don’t risk your head, alright? Not for me, not for anyone.”

Gods, he hated it when you cried. And Sandor had been seeing you cry a lot ever since Joff had your father beheaded. Even so he allowed it, especially because you never cried in front of anyone else. You were strong like that, never giving them the satisfaction of knowing how you were truly feeling. Your red rimmed eyes may say otherwise, it was proof enough but Sandor still thought you were strong and he would hold you whenever he had the chance.

“Keep your head down, little wolf, and do as you're bid. Tell your sister the same.”

‘They won’t hurt you’ he wanted to say but they could. They did and have, whenever they had the chance. They being the Lannisters— Baratheons, whatever, the royal cunts he worked for. Sandor never felt guilt as heavy as he did these past months. He felt it every damn time he saw your stoic face, albeit the red under your eyes seemed to be permanently stained that way, in court or dutifully beside your sister.

The gods were testing his restraint as if Sandor needed a bloody test. He damn near gutted Meryn yesterday for the punch he gave you in front of everyone. He’d take a tongue lashing or walk the gallows for it, gladly. Then he met your eyes. Don’t risk your head, your voice ricotched inside his skull so loudly it stilled him. Sandor had never been so happy to see the dwarf in his life, ending the beating before Meryn’s sword struck you and only you. The little bird with her ripped dress sobbing on her knees tucked into your protective arms. He would’ve killed the Kingsguard himself if it wasn’t for Tyrion and, as much as he wanted to, he didn’t want the last time he saw you to be in that room.

Sandor bandaged you himself, undoing the shite work that old pervert Pycelle did.

“No one’s gonna hurt you again, little wolf.” He swore— no, he vowed, and the Hound didn’t do vows, “No one, you hear me?”

“I’m ok, Sandor.” You assured him as you always did, each time sounding weaker than the last. Never quite yet a lie, you were still strong.

Sandor felt the shift in the air less than halfway to the Red Keep, the walk was eerily quiet. He knew King Joff wasn’t beloved by any means but utter silence was a warning and he’d curse himself if he didn’t chance a look at his surroundings. He’d tell himself this anyways but his eyes landed on the little bird… then his little wolf following behind her.

You didn’t smile when you caught his brief gaze looking back at you over his shoulder. No, you felt the same tense aura he did and he could see the worried expression on your face. Fear. He thinks he hates that look on you more than tears. Sandor wished he could just grab you, hook you under his arm and make sure you stayed there until he saw you to safety.

Don’t they always say “it happened so fast” well it fucking did. Sandor blinked, Joff was hit and his sword was drawn out right after. Then everything went to shit. The Bread Riot they would call it by tomorrow but Sandor Clegane could name it right here and now; his worst fucking nightmare come to life.

Joff was fine, he made certain of that firsthand but when he turned around, though his body never ceased moving, his heart stopped. You and the little bird were nowhere to be seen. Sandor felt like he could breathe at least when he found Sansa, just in time by the looks of it. His sword hacked through flesh and bone then he swung the girl over his shoulder. She cried the whole way back, never ending blubbering was just as bad as her chirping. Only this time they were both thinking the same.

“Where are they!?” She sobbed, “Please, you have to—“

Sandor didn’t need to be fucking commanded to find you, so he didn’t stay to hear the rest of her pleas. He went back to face the riot a third time. Occasionally some idiot came at the Hound only to meet their gorey demise at his sword. Sandor shouted your name until his throat hurt, growing more panicked the longer he went without a response.

Until you called back.

Footsteps come closer, heavier, faster. Rounding the corner his nerves finally leave him alone with relief. Sandor’s shoulders slump as lets out a breath that takes away some of the tension he was holding onto. He takes one step closer while you close the distance with a leap. Your arms locked behind his neck, the blood on his armor smearing against your own attire. You didn’t seem to care, he certainly didn’t. The deathly grip on his weapon shook and his sword clattered when it hit the ground. Sandor enveloped you in his arms and breathed in the scent of your hair. He almost thanked the gods that laughed at him that you were alive—

Then he pulled away harshly, hands flying to your cup your cheeks and turning your head all around looking for any bruises or cuts. He ignored the way you said his name until he inspected every fucking inch of you, making sure you weren’t bleeding or something worse had happened. If you were it would all be his fault, he made fucking vows for you! He—

“Sandor.” You said again

He sighed then begrudgingly met your red rimmed eyes, “It.. it fucking killed me not to reach out and touch you.”

You somehow smiled and attempt to gently pry his hands away to hold them, “I’m ok, I—“

“No.” He growls and holds your face still in his grip.

His eyes are wide, boring into yours. His breaths short and shaking with every exhale. Is this fear? In the Hound— your Hound?

“It would’ve fuckin’ killed me if something happened to you. Do you understand me? I’m strong but,” Sandor sighs and blinks away any traces of fear you thought you saw but he doesn’t meet your eyes for the final part of his little speech, “I’m not strong enough to lose you.”

Halfway through his admission your brows punched up and tears welled in your eyes. You managed to swallow down the sob that almost escaped. Words aside, the seriousness and earnestness in his voice had you choking up. Including his statement, it was just about the closest Sandor Clegane has been to admitting he not only cared about you but quite possibly loved you.

“Look at me,” You managed to say, “I’m right here, Sandor, I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes find yours again. You’re smiling that bloody smile that twists his guts in a way he doesn’t necessarily dislike. It’s weak… but it’s there and it’s mighty reassuring. Sandor’s thumb catches a tear that drips down your cheek. He hates it when you cry.

“Alright…” He swallows hard on nothing.

#sandor clegane x reader #game of thrones imagine #imagine #x reader #game of thrones #sandor the hound clegane #poiboidrabbles #sandor clegane imagine #sandor x reader #sandor clegane

[starkskeep]

Right when I felt the moment stop (r. stark)

Right when I felt the moment stop r. stark imagine

Pt. 2 of Oh, all I used to do was pray

Pairings - Robb Stark x female!Reader

Summary - Robb Stark and the rest of his family bear the consequences of their actions toward you.

Word Count - 1,899 words

Warnings - Angst, violence, mention of infidelity, mention of an animal attack

Songs I listened to while writing: mad woman, Right Where You Left Me (Taylor Swift) Washing Machine Heart (Mitski)

Jon was in the courtyard when he caught sight of Arya and Rickon rushing in on horseback. He had been trying to avoid Robb after their confrontation so he avoided going over to his younger siblings as Robb and Catelyn were trying to figure out what happened. Instead, Jon watched from the side. 

"Rickon, Arya, what happened? Are you alright?" Catelyn's voice is comforting, but the look in her eyes screams one word: What happened?

Arya whispers, still in shock, “Rickon and I were in the Wolfswood. We were surprised by Ramsay Bolton and his men. They were talking about using us for ransom or hurting us to get back at Robb. Then Y/n showed up. She used a rock to distract the guards holding me and Rickon. Y/n told us to take her horse and ride back to Winterfell.”

Jon walked up to the group after he heard the commotion. He spoke urgently as he heard your name but did not see you after scanning the courtyard. “Y/n? Where is she now?”

The look of dread on Arya and Rickon’s faces is enough to confirm the worst. 

Catelyn holds back her instincts and tries to remain calm so as not to frighten her children. She takes deep breaths and looks at her eldest son. “Robb, this is very bad. You need to do something.”

Jon speaks up quickly, cutting off Robb’s response. There isn’t time for him to be respectful, even if his brother could take his head as the king. “I’m taking men and I am going to search the Wolfswood for her. This is Ramsay. We may already be too late. He thrives off the pain of others.” Jon immediately goes to round up some men and head off.

Robb stares after Jon. He can’t believe what he has just heard. You would risk your life for Robb’s siblings after how they all treated you?

Jon and the men with him come upon the clearing that Ramsay and his men were obviously just at. Although, it may just be Ramsay now. There were several bodies strewn, bloodied with scratches and bite marks. By the luck of the gods, your body is not among those fallen but it means you are most likely alone with Ramsay. The rescue party continues on by following tracks left in the snow. Farther into the forest, there is a fallen bear with arrows embedded in it. This is obviously the animal that killed Ramsay’s men. 

A shrill scream sends Jon and the men running toward the sound. They end up at the bank of a frozen river. Ramsay has you trapped against him, a dagger held to your throat. The fear and panic were quite clear in your eyes, even from all the way across the river.

“Hello, bastard. I see you’re still at the beck and call of your brother. It’s unfortunate that he won’t be here to see as I slit his wife’s throat, although from what I hear, he would probably thank me for doing so. Be sure to describe in detail the events that happened. I would hate for him to be left wondering. Shame the other two runts escaped. I’ll be sure to make your good sister’s death painful for the loss she caused me.” Ramsay sneered as he pulled you tighter against him.

As Ramsay was distracted by his taunting of Jon, your good brother subtly directed one of the men to move to his side of Ramsay. The soldier pulled back his bow and sent an arrow flying right into Ramsay’s side. This caused Ramsay to let go of you, unfortunately slicing your collarbone as he fell. The impact of his body against the river ice created fissures in the frozen water. Jon went to step onto the ice in order to get you to safety.

“Wait! Don’t—“ Your words were cut off when the pressure created a crack so large that the ice beneath you broke and sent you into the cold river. You frantically tried to get back onto the ice but could not maintain a grip on the slippery surface. You fell back into the water and the current swept you underneath the ice. Jon immediately sprung into action and sprinted onto the ice, jumping over broken slabs while still trying to be as light as he could. By sheer luck, Jon was able to reach an area in front of your path and break through the ice. He hauled you to safety and rushed back to the group. They were smart enough to have a cloak ready to wrap you in and bundled you onto a horse. Everyone set off to Winterfell. 

When Jon made it back through the gates of Winterfell, he ignored the questions from everyone. His only focus was on getting you to a maester. Once you were being tended to, Jon turned to his family. They had followed him to your chambers and were waiting to hear what had happened to you.

When Jon spoke, his voice was deeply serious. “The men and I found y/n being held by Ramsay on the river. His men had been attacked and killed by a bear. Only he and she escaped the animal. We were able to kill Ramsay. He sliced her collarbone as she fell. The wound isn’t deep enough to kill her but she fell into the river when the ice broke. I tried to get to her as quick as I could. She was breathing as I brought her back but she was pale. So pale. Her lips were blue. I don’t know what will happen to her now.”

Robb nods his head as Jon explains, he has to know. ”Do you think she'll make it?" He knows this is a question only the Maester can answer, but he wants to hear it for himself. And right now, he wants nothing more than to hear good news.

Jon glares at Robb and spits out, “We wouldn’t have to worry about that if she hadn’t left Winterfell because of you.”

Robb's face pales, and his expression turns to anger. He hadn't expected Jon to lash out at him, and his mouth opens and closes as he tries to respond. He looks down at the ground and away from his brother, clearly ashamed. Robb knows that Jon is right but he doesn’t yet want to admit that out loud.

You woke up a week later. The maester had healed you to the best of his abilities but you were still quite weak. When you awoke, you were confused as to where you were and what had happened to you. You were even more confused when you saw Robb sitting beside the bed you were lying in.

“My lord husband. I…I” You say as you try to push yourself up.

Robb looks down at you, his face full of mixed emotions. He is grateful that you are alive, but he knows the damage the attack from Ramsay has done to you. You look... unwell. He puts his hand on yours and his expression is soft. “Y/n, don't try to get up. The maester has tended to you as best he can, but you need to rest in order to heal. You nearly died, and you need to let yourself recover. Is there anything you need? A... any water?”

You pull your hand away from Robb’s and recoil slightly as you bring your hand close to your chest. Your eyes don’t leave Robb, watching him warily and expecting him to blame you for the events that happened. “No. I’m fine, your grace.”

Robb sees your hand slide away and he pulls his own hand back with a disappointed expression on his face. He stares at his lap, upset at himself that he couldn't do more to help you, and hurt by the fact that she doesn't want anything from him. What else could he do? His eyes drift to the door, and he gives a quick nod to the guard outside. The guard nods back and leaves the room, closing the door behind him and leaving you and your husband alone in the room.

You speak up in order to make this interaction less awkward. “Are Arya and Rickon alright? Did they get back to Winterfell safely?”

Robb's face drops when you ask this. He nods and forces himself to smile. Don't show her your pain. "They are alright. Don't worry about them, y/n.” He forces himself to smile again, but his voice is shaking. After a moment, he closes his eyes and takes a breath. When he opens them again, he looks at you more steadily. "But now, I must worry about you.”

You brush aside Robb’s concern. The thought of your husband suddenly caring for you after mostly ignoring you for the past six months makes you wary and uncomfortable. The fact that he is only now showing concern after you almost died makes you angry. “You do not need to, your grace. There are many more important things for you to be doing. The maester has everything under control.”

Robb is shocked. For a moment, this makes him angry, that his own good intentions didn't mean anything to you. After a deep breath, Robb speaks again, “Y/n, that was an unkind thing to say. I'm trying to make you feel better, and you just..." Robb bites his lip and looks down at the bed. He is at a loss for words. He looks back up at you and asks again. “Y/n is there anything I could get you? Anything…" Robb is practically begging you at this point.

Your face hardens for a brief second before it slips into an expressionless mask, “You’re right. You are my lord husband. I should not have spoken out of turn. I merely worry that you have many tasks already. It is a wife’s job to care for her husband but it is not the husband’s job to care for his wife.”

Robb's face has a mixture of irritation and shock etched upon it. it. He can't tell if you are making fun of him or not, but either one is enough to make him boil over with anger. “How can you say such a thing? I am not some cold lord who has a wife only as a showpiece. I am not like him." He spat out in disgust. “Y/n, what is this? Do you want to be alone? I’m trying to be a better husband here.”

You begin to sob and the maester interrupts you and Robb out of concern for your health. The old maester speaks as he ushers Robb out of the tower, “My lord. You need to let the lady rest. She can’t be put under such emotional distress. Please leave and come back once your wife has recovered a bit more.”

Robb feels his expression falter as he sees the tears running down your cheeks, and he turns his gaze to the floor. He feels a sharp pierce of shame in his chest as he realizes what he has put you through, and he nods to the maester.

"I... I understand." He says, looking at the older man and then back to you before turning to leave. He leaves the room slowly, quietly, and with a heavy heart.

Next Part

#robb stark fanfic #robb stark imagine #robb stark #robb stark x reader #got x reader #got imagine #king of the north

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

31 - Light in the Darkest Storms

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

Length: 19.5k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, past character death, flashbacks, discussion of virginity, references to past rape, smut, oral (m and f receiving), p in v, breeding kink

Notes: Holidays are over so we will go back to the regular posting schedule from now on. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

Winter Town had scarcely ever been meaningfully populated in your time outside of war. Many who worked in the castle walls of Winterfell would find homes there but the town itself was not needed much when it had been the warmth of summer. But the closer you got the more you could see as the people all found settlement rivalling that of White Harbour or Barrowton, should you wager a guess you would say the more the people gathered it would be perhaps a fortnight or twice that before some fifteen thousand Northerns made home.

Only this time, it would be a King in the North to which the Northerners were gathering to settle close by in the winds. But whereas Jon Snow fit in this world without a shadow of a doubt, it was those echos of doubt shadowing over looks certain people were giving you. More then normal now, and many with a sense of unease.

The display on the journey home had rattled your own people and now they looked at their dead Queen as if her mind had snapped and were waiting for the rest of it to show it’s ugly head. But you didn’t know what to say to them to quell such concern, you had barley accomplished enough of it to bring Jon back down to something calm. He hadn’t been since that night, his eyes on you were not that of the same disturb as the people, but they watched you dark and close all the same.

Your horse riding beside his and constantly you tried to pretend as if you couldn’t feel his gaze, but in truth if you turned to look behind you, many gazes would’ve suddenly turned away abruptly. At least Jon would hold it with the same look.

Narrowed eyes with something protective behind them that he wasn’t sure how to express, not with how you’ve been.

When he had brought you back to your quarters on the ship, he had sat you on the edge of the bed, crouching in front of you with his hands keeping you steady on your upper arms. Asking you what happened, but you only stammered. “I’m- I don’t even remember getting out of bed, never had a dream like that..” You could only hear Hazzea’s screams that erupted into nothing as it was charred away along with the rest leaving nothing but black bones to haunt you. Or the look in the eyes of that dragon which was terrifying as it was angering.

It looked to the girl with nothing but a need to kill and then flew off, but how could you tell him that without sounding like only a dream? It must have been, but you didn’t feel like it. Your dreams varied from ominous to vivid and confusing but they never made you feel as if you were standing in the real world. It felt as real in that temple as it did when you turned around to find yourself back on the ship.

Cupping the sides of your cheeks, you hated how Jon’s face had been twisted into something just as upset as you felt on the inside. Grey eyes still tinted with a red behind them as your hands curled into your palms to keep them from shaking. His thumb running over your cheek as his voice was a bit breathless in his own worry, “Darling this wasn’t just some dream, I’ve never heard you scream like that..” Looking over your just as unsure state, Jon tried to tilt your face down to meet his eyes as they drifted away. “You weren’t -do you even know what language you were speaking?”

Your answer however, was specific. Too specific to the point it took Jon entirely off guard as his head jolted back a small bit. But it also dawned on you as you once more fell from his gaze, how specific that answer came in an instant.

It was the first flag that made you both feel uncomfortable over the matter, you had dreamt and spoke in a language you knew nothing of despite recognizing it coming from your mouth. “Do you know what you were saying?”

Distantly you nodded a yes, you could see everything in that temple clear as Jon was now. The enormity of a foreign culture you were ignorant to, the languages far from Westerosi common, the guards, the Queen at the very top and the two knights beside her. It was not the misting blurs of a dream world as you would recall. It was only half a story, one that was rambling as your mind still felt attached and Jon hardly could grasp how such a dream linked to what he saw.

Whispers of a Targaryean with three dragons and on the journey home you have a violent dream of dragons burning a child alive, Jon thought it could be a coincidence, but he felt doubt over it.

You had hardly slept since then, spending much of the nights out against the side of the ship looking out to the blackness over the night waters. One night he would convince you to try and sleep, the next you wouldn’t budge. It was as if you feared sleeping in chance of another dream, and perhaps you did.

Now as the sights of Winterfell came close as you all rode up, Jon beside you looked somehow like every other Northerner, and yet with the air of a King. Warm with the dark fur around his shoulders once more made him look intimidating but not with such in eyes. Grey eyes wide and bright, looking at his people with more then a humble nature, still finding it odd in his mind, that they would bow and kneel to him as “your grace”, as he nodded and acknowledged many of them.

You could only hope you didn’t look as lost and exhausted as you felt, tired of looking weak and pathetic at Jon’s side. The Queen who was losing her mind in the eyes of his people. A shame on his family that should be considered.

It had been busy the moment the gates of Winterfell rose up, neither you nor Jon bothering with much decorum. Things needed to be done and you wanted little time to spend watching people watch you. A decent number of resources on their way but you had to trust in others to covey details to the smiths on what exactly they were looking at. Groups finding purpose here and elsewhere as men around all worked to attend to the King in the North’s return but as you climbed from your own horse, your hands stayed attached to the saddle. Glancing around as whispers found their way in your mind, tingling against your skin as each flicker of eyes towards you spoke of judgment.

As one of the stable boys took the liberty of guiding your horse away you stood in the clearing feeling lost. Gloved hands now at your sides tensing and retensing as the whispers dulled to the increasing loudness of your beating hard in your ears, until it all came to a heart stopping end as Selyse came to your side. Eyes narrow and sharp as she quietly called your name, you could still feel your heart in your chest as you looked at her, but with a silence on your tongue waiting for her to speak first.

Glancing to the side before coming a step more to your front, “Maybe it is best if we bring you inside for now.” It might have been concern on her, but it was hard to see and every single even minor look in your direction made the whispering grow deafening. As if only a girl, you swallowed before nodding saying no words.

It was as Selyse shared a look across the way to Ser Davos, did the man’s attention diverting grab Jon’s eyes. Noticing your mother place a hand at your back and guide you inside without a word to anyone.

She knew her way around the castle well enough by that point, a fortnight here after your departure to White Harbour and she knew when places were busy and when not. It also, was the perfect time to bring you into the more quiet side of the kitchens to sit you down. Requesting a tea from one of the ladies there as she sat down at a small circular table just slightly to the side to look at you. A grown woman you were, but you knew your mother was looking at you and could replace it with the image of a young Shireen having a bad day in need of quiet away from others.

Not much of a mother to you in a long time, but she had been for Shireen’s entire life and for now that would have to do. Her voice was thankfully low in nature as was yours, “I haven’t seen you that nervous in a crowd since you were a girl.”

Quietly thanking the woman who placed a warm mug in front of you, it was brought just enough to your lips to blow ever so slightly at the steam before wagering a sip. Too hot to taste still, but the heat warmed your blood and sent out the remaining shivers of cold from you. Having another before slowly beginning to take off the cloak around your shoulders and let it drape over the back of your seat as did your mother. Hands still in gloves but felt the heat as they both cupped the side of your mug, “You should have seen me at my wedding. I was so nervous I wasn’t sure I was going to even make it to the Weirwood before passing out.”

Hardly letting out a chuckle, Selyse watched you for another quiet moment. “Celebrations were never quite a tradition in our family.” You knew she wished to ask, but instead found other things to occupy her voice that eased you into things. “The first time you came home from the North, you had asked your father and I, if feasts were supposed to be loud and chaotic. I remember not knowing if you were disappointed we never had ones such as that or not.”

You mustered half a smile, “Likely a bit of both.” She rose an eyebrow in question as you took another sip, “I enjoyed watching the others have such a good time, but I was worried you and father would be mad at me if I participated. Was worried about a lot of things from that first visit, thought if you both knew I’d never be allowed to return.”

Tilting her head in slight amusement with a lighter air on her tongue, “That assumption clearly did not work out in that manner.” Nodding at her, your eyes felt distant. Trying to not see the stares and hear the whispers and you felt your chest tighten again. Leaning forward to you, she lowered her tone with a murmur of your name. “Is there nothing more you can say of that night?”

Hand stopping as it was reaching the liquid to your lips, you sighed and let it drop back down. If the servers milling about were listening, they did a very good job at not showing it. “I told you, I wasn’t even aware I had gotten out of bed, I know even less then what they all saw.” It was silent for a second before you looked down at the table away from her, “It felt as if everyone was speaking about me out there, like everyone was watching and whispering about what happened.”

“No one was doing such a-”

Your tone almost snapped, but it reigned in almost as soon as you opened your mouth. “They were, we both know they were. Everyone had been. I have one nightmare and now my own people look at me as if I’ve lost my mind.”

Your mother was quicker then you it seemed, “You look at me as if I’ve lost mine some days.”

Narrowing your brows for a moment, you relented just as fast in acceptance. “You are following a belief, a faith. I had a dream that made me walk and scream in my sleep. Two very different kinds of insanity, I would say.” Your nails tapped at the mug as your eyes slipped closed as long as you inhaled deeply. “I’ve hardly slept since that night. As if I know falling asleep one night I will have another dream just like it, but maybe this time I’ll do worse then scream.”

Both knowing the answer to it, she put the suggestion forth regardless. “I can speak to Maester Wolkan, essence of nightshade could help you sleep-”

Your tone was sharp as was your eyes, “I’m not about to begin relying on a few drops of poison every night just so I don’t have scary nightmares, mother. Besides, it wouldn’t help how little I’ve eaten either.” All you could see was the bones, those black, charred bones of Hazzea as clear as day and then you’d hear her fading scream and all appetite would leave you. Nothing felt appetizing when such senses invaded your mind.

Leaning into the quiet, only sounds around that of shuffling, bubbling and whatever they were preparing behind you, your mother was more stern then before. “You barley take care of yourself as it is. Always running yourself ragged trying to do everything, you will be able to do that even less if you have no food or sleep in your body.” Trying not to roll your eyes, knowing she was only stating the honest truth. “Dying once has not made you immune from starvation.”

Sighing deeply, you knew she meant well. Taking food for granted was not something she nor your father were uncaring with. “Plenty of books in Winterfell, could always made soup if I let things get that dire.”

The dropping look in Selyse’s face was one you knew she had given Shireen too many times when she got too clever for her own good. “I am trying to get you to care of your well being. Strange events have followed you since your death and they are only getting stranger. You need to be looking out of more then only other people now. Especially if-”

Cutting her off sternly, you didn’t want to hear about this. Not now. It hadn’t been brought up since before that dream and you were beginning to feel a creeping voice in your mind that had been gone since the months leaving Castle Black. Ones that you were too much of a burden, too much of a problem again.

Jon knocks down one problem with you, and another takes it’s place in a matter of days. You should have stayed on Dragonstone with your father, at least you wouldn’t be in Jon’s way thousands of miles apart. Maybe if you got up and left right now, everyone would be too busy to notice you disappear.

It choked your throat and down to your lungs in an ill sensation at the anxiety of, would Jon secretly be grateful once you were gone? He was too kind to tell you to leave his life, he always was. Always placated your burdens as if they didn’t weigh him down horribly. Once afraid you would be dragging Robb into a miserable life married to you, but it seemed he was the wrong wolf you were the constant of issues for.

Silence painful before you sighed, not a sign of strength holding your resolve left in your eyes. “You and father don’t have to worry about this sort of thing.” Softening in your eyes, was an apologetic sorrow that was bright for any to see. “You haven’t had to wake up every single day for months, worrying you are getting in his way. Standing between him and real happiness because you don’t know how else to contain how you feel. I was worried in Castle Black I was ruining his life and now it feels like I’m back to doing just that. What do I even offer him? What as a Queen do I even bring to his cause he could not do himself, better?”

Selyse didn’t have an answer to that, because you did not want one. It was a spiral that begged for others to toss you away in worth or use as you spent a year in a new life being tortured with. More for you had changed in those months then many encountered in a single lifetime.

It hadn’t been sitting there to pressure you, it was almost hidden away so any who wandered in might not have spotted it, but you did. You saw it almost right away and the second you traced your fingers over the fabric you found yourself sitting back on the edge of the bed. Material in hands as you ran over the details. It was clearly made to fit you with detailed accuracy.

Had it been meant as something in your face, likely there would’ve just been people there already to put you in it. Instead it sat alone, in the quiet room for you to contemplate. It would be your choice this time, both of you and somehow that felt more strange then it did the first time. Neither you nor Robb had a say in it, and it was to happen at the end of what turned out to be the start of a nightmare that had yet to end.

Not much of the ceremony did you recall. Were your life to be staked on it you’d have no way of saving yourself if the only rescue was to recite the words you spoke. Did you even breathe? You were a blur walking towards the Weirwood and part of having no choice in the matter made that memory easier to look back on then the willing one you had now.

Women like you weren’t supposed to choose. It wasn’t how it worked, you never grew up expecting you’d have a say in it. The way Cersei Lannister made it sound like you’d be sold off like some broodmare and perhaps for many it was as such. You were lucky it was Robb, more lucky then most highborn women ever would get. But here you were with a choice of freedom and that was more difficult to do.

Coming to terms with having love after Robb was growing a bit better, more time spent considering the truth that he would not want you to be miserable after him, but marriage? Forsaking the name he shared with you and taking that of his brother? Jon came first, but Robb was never less then he was.

It was all so complicated in your mind.

Still now, you could see the hateful eyes in Catelyn, how if you made this choice she would look down at you forever as something more horrid of a word then you’d prefer to think coming from her. A woman who parts of your life acted as a mother, was your mother by marriage in war for three years and ended that life on nothing but good terms. If you chose to do this, she would hate you for eternity.

“I can't tell if you hate it or not.”

Head snapping up, only then realizing you hadn’t even heard Jon enter, or the door close behind him either. Your brows narrowed in question before he gestured down to the material in your hands, an easy breath coming out close to something of a laugh as you shook your head. “On the contrary, it’s eeiry how well you knew what to tell them to make.”

Stepping closer, Jon gave half a smile. His voice low and somewhat quiet as he sat next to you, but a decent foot of space between his body and yours was almost staggering in the quiet. “Almost like I’ve known you most of my life.”

A more genuine grin came about you, looking up to not anything of significance on the stone wall ahead as your tone fell in an amusing monotone. “My father’s known me my whole life and he couldn’t even tell you if I have a favourite food of any kind.”

The lightness in Jon’s voice had you without notice, forming an easy grin on your face even if it didn’t quite match the soft but combating glaze over your eyes. “Easy, you love peppercrab stew, stuffed clams, anything that comes from the sea.”

Muttering a playful in mocking return, “Almost as if I grew up on an island.”

Jon ignored your jest, “And even though you claim you don’t like sweet desserts, you would live off of blueberry tarts if it was possible.” That time he caught the playfully offended look in your eye at being called out, a laugh easier on his lips then it came huffing from yours. “I also know you hate Dornish wine because every highborn in King’s Landing drinks it by the barrel, and that you think serving pigeon pie at weddings is disgusting.”

Your fingertips were tracing along the ornately stitched design, noticing it was almost a seamless blend of what looked like carvings of antlers as they trickled down into outlines of a wolf only noticeable up this close. None but you or him would even be near enough to make out such details but you knew they were intentional. “You would too if you were saw how many dead and bloodied pigeons end up inside those things before they’re cut open.”

Leaning back a bit, his palms braced more against the fur along his bed as Jon kept his eyes on nowhere but you. “Good thing I didn't tell them to make it.” Your head rose up a bit, hands stopping in motion as you looked to nothing once more hesitant in your shoulders, as Jon leaned forward again this time a bit closer as his voice rasped more beside you. “We don’t have to do anything, we can go back out there and just let our people enjoy a good night, but I need you to tell me if you want this or not.”

You could hear Robb clear as day, voice warm and soothing behind you as his hands ran along your arms before giving yourself over to him.

“If you don’t want this, I need you to tell me. We don’t have to do anything, but you need to be honest with me about it.”

He had given you the exact same out, and you didn’t take it then and it ended better then you could’ve imagined for the time you and Robb had with each other. Would taking that opportunity from Jon now be nothing but a regret? Or was otherwise being too selfish?

“Before I married him, I told Robb I was worried he would be trapped in a miserable marriage being with me. But we didn’t get a choice, we had to do it no matter what. But this time, if you marry me, it’ll be my fault if you end up hating your life.” Looking back up to meet his eyes, Jon was closer then before and instead of even entertaining such an idea, he cupped both sides of your face, pulling you up to meet his lips in a gentle kiss.

Your hands dropping the material into your lap as your hands reached up to press against his chest with your palms flat. It was soft, not teasing but keeping you just on the edge of needy as he would pull away just long enough that you wanted to whine and chase his lips, returning back to you as one of his hands danced back to run his fingers through your hair.

Pressing another innocent one, Jon then pulled back only enough that he could look you in the eye as yours slowly opened again. “You make me happy, and I make you happy. That’s enough. But we don’t have to do this-”

Shaking your head, heart almost so light it could fly from your chest and be lost to the skies hiding above the stone walls. Your hands ran up to gently wind around the back of his neck as you leaned up to kiss him, even a more gentle one then before. Almost just a tender press of lips before you pulled back. “I do, I- I just, my head is so confusing how it feels. One moment I’m sure as any has ever been that I want to be with you, and the next I’m terrified I’m wasting your life and you’ll hate me for it.”

Tracing his nose along the bridge of yours, Jon’s voice was a low rasp, “I suffer through a lot of things I hate, just add one more to the list is all.” If his intent was to make you fight between laughing and rolling your eyes he succeeded. Pulling away from him with a failing to hide grin fighting against him trying to yank you back.

“I only want you to be sure you won’t regret this down the line. Not easy to change your mind about a wife when you’re King.” His thumb running smoothly along your cheek and jaw, nudging your nose with his before capturing your lips once more. Only pulling back enough so your lips brushed his as you spoke, “You’re making it very hard to have a serious discussion, do you know that?”

Kissing you once more, Jon muttered against your lips, “Good.” Before capturing them again, one hand swiftly moving the fabric from your lap off to the side with a small toss blind, before moving you back, hands at your hips to all but toss you to the middle of his bed that time. Eagerly climbing up over you, meeting you with a sweeter kiss then was suitable for how much he just handled you like a rag doll. Both of his hands sat at the sides of your head, his voice deep as his grey eyes shined bright down at you. “Do you need me to prove how sure I am of marrying you? Because it also happens to be the same as showing you what my favourite dessert-

Calling his name indignantly, you laughed while feeling a fluster rise up your chest and into your cheeks instantly, Jon laughing brightly down at you. “Isn’t the man supposed to act a gentleman? Treat the innocent maiden with respect before a wedding?”

Jon trailed his lips easily down your neck, nothing more then greedy kisses to the sensitive skin as he spared you from him marking it with his teeth, muttering into your skin, “Innocent maidens as far as I’m aware, don’t normally let the man take her the way I do you, before the wedding.” He grinned again you tried to move out from under him, only making that embarrassment in you worse as he leaned more so you couldn’t hide from his words.

“If I ask any crew on our journey home if they think you have any innocence left for me to take from you, they'd say yes?” Running his lips down your neck to your collarbones, tone twisting to a deeper husk. “Or did everyone already hear how hard I took you at night? How much you tried to keep quiet but you just can’t stop yourself from sounding so beautiful when you cry out for me,”

Just as Jon shifted, one of his hands moving down along your dress as he reached the skirt already bunched up from his movements did you reach out and snatch his wrist. A playful mischief in his eyes as he pulled back to look down at you again, wanting to laugh at the narrowed look in yours. “Did you and Robb form a secret pact to endlessly embarrass me, because you’re both naturally quite good at it.”

Pushing up more to look down at you again, palms back braced against the furs of his bed, Jon smiled more softly this time. “No, but I do need you to tell me what you actually want to do. We can stay right here, I’ll strip you bare and taste you until the sun sets before I finally fuck you and everything can stay the same.” Leaning down to kiss you once, your hands running along his shoulders and one wrapping behind his neck gently as he looked back at you. “Or, we could do all of that, just a bit later after I’ve married you. But you have to be the one to decide. I’ve wanted to marry you since I was a boy. I made it this many years, I can wait as many more as you need.”

Rarely did this embarrassment extend passed only such a small amount of people, but as you heard the knock on your door did you know it was exactly that. You didn’t have much of other options, and asking felt like a child playing a game of fantasy, but it would be a sad display for you to do it alone. The guard outside the door calling to you, “Ser Davos here to see you, your grace.”

Inhaling deeply as your heart raced, you grabbed a long shall to partially wrap around you almost to hide what you were clearly wearing. “Send him in.”

Walking in, he could tell instantly what you were feeling. Having done mostly everything yourself, you preferred unlike last time, not to have handmaidens fuss over your hair and face, but it also meant you had spend some time now alone with your thoughts. “Your grace,”

Dropping any act of formality right away, your voice was higher in pitch as you also spoke probably too fast to sound proper. “Is it childish of me to ask if I look even halfway decent?”

Davos laughed however, walking in more with a comfort. “I’m not exactly a man with the best sense of dress, especially if you ask my wife, but you look beautiful.” Watching you sigh out as you almost defeated sat down on the edge of the bed, you found little comfort in what now was your former bedroom. Davos watched closely, finding a similar assessment Ned Stark had before him. “Of all the things to make you nervous and this is it.”

Your head made a move to fall into your hands, only to recall you at least had attempted to hide your lack of sleep with some kind of makeup. Leaving them flat on your lap as he sat next to you. “If it’s possible I think I’m even more nervous this time then the first, and this is when I know what I’m getting myself into.”

Looking you over closely, he asked the question on the tip of his tongue that he suspected you were just nervous enough to answer honestly. “Why not tell your father you might be getting married when we left Dragonstone?”

Wanting to shrug you knew that wasn’t the right response. Sighing deeply, your hands wrung together as your head stayed hanging down. “When I married Robb, the only family I had there was Robert. Renly wasn’t there, Shireen wasn’t, my father or mother..I was just shipped off to the North with no one there with me.” The last thing you wanted was to feel this choked up, forcing it down deep inside to not break you, even as it peeked through in a tiny crack of your voice. “Lord Stark gave me away last time. Raised me here almost half my life then, and even when I thought my own father was gone he was still the one I missed. The one I miss now. And I know that makes me sound horrible-”

“It doesn’t.” Looking up at him, your eyes stung red as your heart constricted trying not to feel like such a child at how much you wished Ned Stark was here this time too. Davos though, held not a single ounce of judgment in his face but a comfort only that of a father could give. “I admire your father in many ways, but I’m not blind to the difficult relationship you two have had your whole life. He’s a tough man to get close too, and Lord Stark was father enough to you that when it came down to it, you chose to return to your husband to try and save his life together when everyone else thought you’d go to Stannis.” Leaning forward more to ensure he had your proper attention, “If I can miss your baby sister like she was my own daughter, then you can miss Ned Stark when he was your father by marriage. It’s okay to miss the people we love.”

Nodding, you swallowed harsh to force down those heavy pains in your lungs to the depths. “My father sent me to marry Robb all alone, and then called him a usurper and a thief for leading his own people when they felt like they had nothing. Called me a traitor for siding with the husband he married me to.” Almost lost for a moment, in the memory when Robb had reassured you so gently that if fighting your father was what was to happen, he refused to let you shoulder it alone. “I know you barley knew him, Robb..but you know Jon..”

Davos reached an arm to wrap around your shoulder, glad on the inside at how easily you let him comfortingly pull you into his side. “I do, and I know he loves you more then anyone in this world could love someone. Was quite the grouch when you were in White Harbour because he didn’t know what to do with himself without you.” You huffed a laugh, but moved little else. “It doesn’t matter of these things come for us all in winter, because as long as Jon has you, he has a reason to keep going, to keep fighting back.” He was quiet, hoping you’d listen to him more then only hear him. “I know I’m not Ned Stark, but I’ve known you your whole life, so how about we get ready to give you away before your husband to be just comes looking for you himself.”

Laughing in his side, Davos joined as well. Giving you a moment to collect yourself, you breathed deeply as your heart slowed to something more manageable. “I know you’re only here because of my fathers order, but I’m still really grateful you are Ser Davos,” Your hand reached up to the necklace that you had yet to take off once. “And I know Shireen is too. She didn’t get to be at the last wedding, but thanks to you she will get a front seat this time.”

Pulling you up, you knew he could see the threat of tears wanting to fall and without even a doubt did he pull you into a hug. You couldn’t have known it, but you fell right into it just as Shireen had the day she learned of what happened to you. And he felt that pull of a father just as strongly. Before coming to the door, Davos stopped and turned to you, nodding down to the shall wrapped around you with a pointed stare.

Anxiously you gripped it tighter before exhaling deeply and undoing it. Nervously putting it down on the bed as the ivory dress now was allowed to breathe. “It’s almost unnerving how well Jon knows you, was trying to find the right way to describe it when he wrote back here from Dragonstone. Complaining that he knows what you looked like in his head but hadn’t the life of him to figure out how to describe it.”

You didn’t realize that Davos knew Jon had been thinking about this, and the surprise was shown in your eyes as your lips parted slightly with an unspoken question. “Ended up having to go ask your mother what he should be telling them,” Your eyes widened more as he laughed. You beginning the question of if she knew when he only answered, “Honestly, your grace, I think he was relying on you being a bit oblivious at times. By the time we left harbour you were likely the only one who didn’t know.”

Shaking your head, Davos in a clearly practised manner, held his arm out for you to loop around and you felt none of the awkwardness which your actual father would’ve provided you with. “Thank you for this, Davos, for everything.”

An easy smile came over his at the very faint one you were trying to hide on yours. “Nothing to thank me for, I’m here because I care, not because I was ordered to be. Your father would’ve kept me on Dragonstone had I not been the one to suggest coming back North with you to be his eyes and ears.”

The halls of the castle were cool in the fabric, but it had been made with something warm enough that you were certain at the least would not freeze you to death. “Why?”

“I believe in your father, but I’ve also spent over four years watching him make questionable choices. As far as he’s come, I’ve felt much more useful at you and Jon’s side. Better listeners you two are then Stannis Baratheon if anyone can believe that.” Your laughter echoed through the empty halls as you came to the doors leading to the main court yard, and from there it would be a nothing walk to the godswood where it was all waiting.

Standing by the doors, you inhaled shakily. “All our lives we never thought we’d be able to be together, and now I’m supposed to just walk out there and marry him like it’s easy.” Don’t let your eyes sting you told yourself, not now.

“It is easy, you just walk out there and do whatever it is Northerners do when you pray to a tree.” Both of you almost burst into a heavier laugh at that, swallowing a doubt down with a nod as he prompted you to stand straighter as he did. “Come, time to give that man the one thing that might make actually him happy for once in his life.”

Jon knew Arya would’ve been mad she wasn’t the first person he told. She had seen him kiss you in the stables when he was sure you both were alone, and later came storming into his room with a shove far too strong for a girl her size, angry he didn’t tell her.

Amusingly, she had gotten more angry the more he refused to admit it. Trying not to yell at him when Jon told her sneaking around with a highborn girl wouldn’t be a very respectful way to treat you. Saying you were nothing more then a friend, only to have her huff, turn away from him muttering “I forgot it’s normal to shove your tongue down your friends throats for no reason.”

Giving her a nudge in the back as he snapped back at her, “When you're my age, try go making some and then you’ll find out.” At that point she had thrown something at him, only to get tossed over his shoulder like she weighed nothing more then a pillow to get unceremoniously tossed onto the bed in her own room as she shouted this conversation wasn’t over yet.

But, he knew she was smart enough to realize why he and you were hiding things, and didn’t really bring it up again. Instead she sometimes would end up playing diversion to give you and him time alone without the others pestering you. Arya had always adored you, and while he never confirmed anything to her face they both understood she got what was happening.

Then that damned raven came. The month leading up to their arrival was filled with Jon growing increasingly unhappy, trying his best to placate Robb’s misgivings about what you and him were being forced into. All without giving away how angry he was that Robb was finally getting the very last thing Jon had solely to himself.

It was a little easier once he was already at the wall. Far from direct reminders of you, he had the time to let that heartache simmer, even though he was aware it had not once gone away. Instead he found a life full of other recruits who hated him, an instant contempt in Ser Alliser Thorne who from day one made it his life’s goal to make Jon as miserable as possible. If the knife wounds in his chest spoke anything, he’d say the man did indeed succeed in that endeavour.

Slowly it became a bit easier, learned how to better tune Thorne out when it mattered, and found common ground amongst the other recruits. Then one day, Jon was in the training yard helping teach Grenn a better grasp of the basics when he stopped mid way through and looked behind Jon, “What in seven hells is that?”

While Jon didn’t think much of Samwell Tarly at first, it changed soon. Watching the man stammering through an introduction with nerves worse then yours, only to watch Rast enjoy beating him senseless despite him being on the ground asking for it to stop. The normal thing to do, would be to let it happen and Pyp had even tried to pull Jon back as he moved forward. But it lasted only as long as it took for the man on the ground to yell in pain that he yields.

If Thorne had thought putting Sam with him as his watch partner was to punish him, he underestimated just what kind of person Jon was. It took barley any time standing up there as Sam told him why he was there for Jon to realize it. This was someone who had bravery in his own way, being able to tell him how his father had considered him worthless and would either have him take the black or would kill his own son for not living up to his expectations. He was someone who didn’t deserve to be treated the way his father had, the way Thorne wanted everyone else to treat him as well.

After that, being friends with him was easy. It had been a long time since Jon had met anyone who was just easy to talk to, easy to be friends with. They had been scrubbing down the tables one day, Sam having brought up how the brothers would sneak off to Mole’s Town to see the girls at the brothel and for whatever reason, Sam had the right combination of Jon’s trust that you came into his mind and refused to leave for a second. You were right there, and he couldn’t look away.

Jon hadn’t even so much as said your name since stepping foot outside the Winterfell gates and gods help him did Lord Tyrion ever try. But as he listened to Sam he felt that familiar ill in his chest that he did when riding away from you. “Don’t you think it’s a little bit unfair? Making us take our vows while they sneak off for a little Sally on the side?”

Glancing up to him with a bemused twist on his face, Jon almost mocked him for it, “Sally on the side?”

Relenting a bit, Sam found it in him with no malice to be amused as he was slightly put off by the topic at hand. “It’s silly, isn’t it. What, we can’t defend the Wall unless we’re celibate? It’s absurd.” Jon almost offhandedly spoke, not really thinking of it in the same terms, as he had only ever eyes for one. Once you came along, Jon didn’t really have the energy to care about other girls. Commenting from his own point of view that he didn’t think Sam would’ve been so upset about it.

Feeling bad instantly as Sam dropped his expression a little as if expecting better of him, “Why not? Because I’m fat?” Jon saying no earnestly, and while Sam clearly hadn’t taken Jon in offence coming from him, he suspected this was someone who was used to having his character put up in scrutiny a lot of his life as he found an almost jesting lecture of a tone to him. “I like girls just as much as you do.” A pause in his words as he came down to something more in the world of Sam’s own realism. “They might not like me as much.” Then it came down to a shadowing of insecurity that Jon knew too well on himself. A wish to shrink in on himself and hide way from a world ready to look at him in judgment, but a trust in this room that at least Jon wouldn’t. “I’ve never...been with one...” Glancing up from his work to Jon he tilted his head at him as if in on a truth that didn’t exist. “You’ve probably had hundreds.”

Were Sam not so serious, Jon genuinely might have laughed. Initially thinking to himself if Jon was what Sam thought someone girls would want, introducing him to Robb might just break the remainder of his mind. Whether he even found them attractive or not, not once did the girls around Winterfell or the scatterings coming in and out of Winter Town ever look Jon’s way once when Robb was around.

But, he also found not any reason to lie to him. Jon looking up at Sam with a quiet honesty, “No. As a matter of fact, I’m the same as you.”

Doubt was the first look, then a disbelief as if he must be full of it. “Yeah..I find that very hard to believe.” That was a fair point he contended. There was no denying that girls would look at the two of them and find more of a general majority with a preference to one over the other, but not much of that shallow attributing of looks mattered to Jon.

He didn’t think much of Sam when he first stepped into the training yard, but quickly found a friend that was becoming someone he could genuinely trust. And perhaps, it was that feeling of trust which made Jon fight internally as Sam looked at him. That wonder of, what did it matter?

Jon spent his entire life hiding what he felt for you, because he knew it was never going to be a life he could have outside of fantasy. Six years he would sneak in the shadows with you, and in public he had to always be aware of how close he was getting. Not to get too handsy, not to be too physically playful or affectionate, not to look at you too long when he wasn’t supposed to.

But here? In a frozen exile at the end of the world? What harm would he do to you here by speaking life into the love still agonized in his heart? He took yours here with him, and Jon wondered what it would feel like to talk about it. He never had, denied it to Arya even when he had been caught, but never had he said a word about what you two were to each other.

Sam though, Jon had the feeling that if Sam was trusting Jon not to be judgmental of him, he should trust the same in return. A lightness in his grey eyes washed over as he could still see you as if it were months ago in your last visit to Winterfell, at least your last visit leaving a Baratheon.

“I came very close once.” Sam’s attention perked up, but Jon struggled to find the words to describe without giving away the truth of who you were, and his generalization came off as awkward. “I was alone in a room with a naked girl, but…”

“Didn’t know where to put it?”

Clearly he was amused by how easily Jon snapped his head over to him with a glare, despite how it was most definitely a jest. “I know where to put it.” But he still wasn’t explaining himself well.

Sam trying to prompt him with any details that could paint any picture. “Was she…old and ugly?”

Jon shook his head, voice low as if offended by the sheer idea. “No. No, she was..beautiful. More beautiful of a girl then I had any right to have in my bed.” It tipped on the edge of his tongue, but the moment your name came from Jon’s lips it was as if it all spilled out and he had no sense to contain it. “She’s-she was my best friend. Knew her for almost fifteen years, came to Winterfell to learn under my father but the second I saw her? I don’t know if there was ever a time I wasn’t in love with her.”

He could see Jon wasn’t really here, his physical present but there was sad softness in his eyes that was so distant that he was trapped in a memory. “And you two almost..?”

Nodding, he almost breathed out a laugh. “We had never done much, thought we had all the time in the world. We liked taking everything slow, but we were still each others firsts for everything. Spent six years sneaking around with her behind everyone's backs and finally we thought we were ready. We were alone, I had her in my room and she let me take off all her clothes..”

Many years later from that moment, together in that hot bath after reclaiming Winterfell from the Boltons, Jon had tried guiltily to skirt around the subject when you had innocently asked what he told Sam about you. Considering that when Sam in that moment had tried to discreetly ask about your breasts Jon had looked away for a moment before shaking his head at him. Both of them amused at how clearly there was a bit of a perverse image in Jon’s mind as Sam asked, “That good?”

“Better.” The smile on his face though was still as far away as it was genuine. “More then better, soft, like they were made to fit in my hands perfectly, sensitive too..” Almost laughing to himself at how easily he found even just a simple amusement in teasing that, “Gods she was so sensitive to anywhere I touched her. We never got very far together but with what I did do, sometimes I’d have to kiss her just so the whole castle didn’t hear..”

Coming back around to the point, Jon could still see every part of your nerves as you looked brightly up at him. “We were alone, and I had her naked on my bed, I was nervous but I knew she was too. Could barley convince herself to take my shirt off without my help. But I was hovering over her..and..I couldn’t do it..”

It wasn’t just a simple insecurity in his voice turning then, and Sam was smart enough to pick up on the mood change easily. Asking why he couldn’t, and Jon looked at him with something akin to a bit more pain then Sam expected. “What’s my name?”

“Jon Snow.”

Jon guiding him to an answer that Sam was forming behind his mind, asking him, “And why is my surname Snow?”

It didn’t really clue in his mind at that time, but Sam seemed almost hesitant to say it. As if about to call him something that to Sam, didn’t seem very nice. He was someone who was likely ridiculed and looked down on his whole life, and perhaps the idea of Jon experiencing that in a different way felt strange to him. But he knew what answer Jon was waiting for. “Because…you’re a bastard from the North.”

Come the present it had been a long time since he had felt that pain strongly, but in that conversation, in the memory as he hovered over you on his bed? Jon knew exactly the fear he had felt looking down at you, despite how much he truly wanted you. And it came out in that level of pain he felt.

“I never met my mother. My father wouldn’t even tell me her name. I don’t know if she’s living or dead, I don’t know if she’s a noblewoman, or a fisherman’s wife, or a whore. That day though..it should have been easy. I had my girl all to myself, no clothes on, but all I could think was, what if I got her pregnant? And she has a child, another bastard named Snow?” Swallowing down something that flashed in a self hatred in his eyes, Jons voice lowered almost just to himself, despite Sam hearing it easy. “I couldn’t ruin my own child’s life just because I was in love with a girl I wasn’t allowed to have.”

As Sam looked at him, once more Jon wondered, what was the point in hiding it? He said your first name, but in what world would telling Samwell Tarly in Castle Black have such a backlash that it would destroy the marriage you now had. “I don’t think I understand, you’re father’s still a Lord. Why wouldn’t you be allowed to be with her unless she was someone -”

When it was out there, it was out there and clearly whatever common girl Sam was imagining was nothing close to the truth. “Unless she was someone in the royal family?” The wide look on Sam’s eye was missed as Jon clenched his jaw now looking back to the table. But the strain in his hand refused to let him distract by going back to work. “Someone like King Robert’s niece. A beautiful Baratheon girl who spent her life in the Crownlands and the capitol. Around all the other royals and nobles, sitting on the small council because on top of everything else, she’s so smart too.”

He exhaled deeply, “A girl like her would never be allowed to marry a bastard. And if I slept with her, and I got her pregnant? I’d have been the one to ruin her life. Our child would grow up just another Snow being looked down at for existing..” Trying to shake off that heavy weight on his shoulders, Jon tried to look back up more casually at Sam but it wasn’t really a facade either bought. “That’s not a good life for a child.”

But then the gears in Sam’s head begun to turn, begun to connect the dots to come to the conclusion Jon had still been dancing around. “King Robert’s niece, but that would mean she..”

It wasn’t anger or even jealousy, just defeat in Jon’s voice. “It means she’s the girl who just got married to my brother. To Robb.” It wasn’t pity in Sam’s eyes but Jon felt sick over it all the same. It would be later that they would talk more, that Sam had come to learn about Jon’s family in general and clearly no matter the sore spot there, he didn’t hate Robb for it, not even close. But it didn’t mean as the two men stood there it didn’t still hurt.

In the quiet that followed, Sam did what he did best. There was nothing left to say that Jon wanted to share, and there was no use in keeping him feeling as tense as he was. Leaning against the other side of the table, Sam found light jest in his eyes as he said, “So..you didn’t know where to put it.”

Maybe the memory wouldn’t have been such a sour one, if the rough housing as a result of being made fun of wasn’t interrupted by the despising contempt of Ser Alliser Thorne. Ironic in a sense Jon thought, that the conversation he walked in on, was about you. Was about the woman he would murder Jon for going to rescue, was about the woman who would behead the man himself for said crime.

As he stood by the Weirwood, his eyes finding Ghost sitting a respectable distance away to not spook the crowd of spectators, Jon couldn’t help but think about Arya. About how she would’ve been endlessly offended that Jon had told Sam the truth of you before he had told his own sister, and as he considered the truth, that he now knew without a doubt, her direwolf Nymeria was still alive and well out there? He wondered if in another world where Arya was still alive, how mad she would then also be to not even be at Jon’s own wedding, to you of all people.

But in truth, Jon was still hoping he wasn’t going to wake up from this as a mocking nightmare. He had long given up the idea of marrying you. The very fear he told Sam of accidentally giving you a child came right from knowing a Snow wasn’t going to be allowed to come close to marrying you.

Yet now he stood as the last of the Stark’s, even if only in his blood. The one his people called King in the North and you were willingly setting aside both strong family names given to you by birth and blood to be down at his level. He told you you didn’t have to, but you refused his entire life to let him think you saw him being a Snow as any indicator of how you looked at him.

He was scared of having a child with you, a bastard named Snow. Only now, that was exactly what your children’s name would be, but without a single shred of the prejudice against being a bastard. His children being called Snow, would merely be seen as the King’s children. Not the King’s bastards, not the bastard boy’s own bastard children.

Just his and your children alone.

“Am I allowed to say it’s weird seeing you here?” Jon smirked a little at the voice, he felt weird standing there. Turning to look properly at Theon, they both knew it hadn’t stopped being strange that the only ones left were the three of you. The ones always odd out of the family, two of which never belonging to it by any sort of blood in the first place.

As the two men stood out in the cool air, Northerners around much more quiet and respectable then when the crowd had been full of Southerners and the royal company. The snow around them in winter and no one but the North that mattered here to witness it. It felt weird, but it also was right. Jon’s voice low as he looked between Theon and the woods as if you’d appear from nowhere. “My last night in Winterfell, I stood on the other side and had to be the one watching her marry Robb. I only hope Robb is okay with me taking his spot with her this time.”

Theon however, was only calm with no doubt as he shook his head. “He’d be grateful it was you.” As Jon looked at him, eyes shining with something like hope for that to be true he elaborated. “It started to feel weird the longer you weren’t around. The three of us would stand there and we all knew you were missing. He didn’t talk about it much when she was there, had enough on her mind with her father. But Robb would say he at the least wished you could’ve been there just so she had someone to talk to. Hated that the only thing she knew to occupy herself was work more, and Robb could never find the time to force her to relax on her own.“

Jon couldn’t tell if he wanted to smile or let his heart drop. He would wonder did you miss Robb for this, prefer him to Jon for that and yet Theon was standing there telling him Robb wasn’t far from the opposite side of that dilemma. “Trusting me with his Kingdom is a far cry from saying he’d want me marrying his wife.”

Theon however, felt something of confidence in a fate he knew was worse. You and him both knew that Robb died hating him, died thinking he was a traitor who killed Bran and Rickon. There was little that could top such an ending for the two of them. Almost as if rapidly to change the subject between them he moved to ask Jon, “What do you reckon is running through her mind?”

It was quiet, but the exhale was there and it was shaky. “Knowing her nerves, probably deciding whether or not she thinks she’s making a mistake.” Jaw clenching slightly, his voice lowered so there was no chance another heard. “Spends too much time worrying about if she’s a burden, can’t think of another way to make her realize it’s the opposite then this.’ He was quiet, of all people Jon had certainly never said anything near it to Theon. “But I’ve always wanted to marry her. I’ve never not been in love with her, my whole life I knew I’d have to give her up. Used to spend hours as a boy wondering how to convince my father to let me marry her one day. ”

Nodding, he was glad Theon found a way to ease that tension still sat in his throat. Looking away from him with a shrug, “Well I’ll force you two to do this if I have too. Sick of watching you both be shit at doing anything that would make you happy.” Jon raised an eyebrow at him, unsure if he was on more the edge of somewhat offended or amused that he wasn’t entirely wrong. “Don’t give me that look. You being King in the North doesn’t mean I can’t tell you when you’re only being miserable because you’re too stubborn.”

Something akin to part of a laugh found Jon, both of them looking away in jest. It was a strange dynamic carving itself out now with him, he was always closer to Robb and then all he knew of him was how he betrayed Jon’s family. Theon had cemented himself as someone that Jon couldn’t stand by and yet he brought you to Castle Black when Jon failed too, and you both arrived together with a bond that left behind the betrayal that once had you and Robb calling for his execution.

But Robb was gone, and Jon wasn’t. Moving forward between them was slow, but every day it got a little easier.

In the quiet as wind calmly blew around in the snowy landscape of the godswood, Jon only hoped that if Robb was watching, he found peace that he was trying to mend the bridges that Robb died before he could finish building. The North was their kingdom, their people. Jon wasn’t the King that Robb was and he couldn’t try to be. But he hoped he was putting the work Robb died for back together enough to make his brother proud. He also couldn’t help but hope that everything he’s done, and now marrying you?

Jon hoped that his father was proud of him too in his own way.

“I’d rather face a thousand armed men then get married in front of all those people.”

You had never seen an inch of war when Ned Stark had told you that, and yet now you fully understood exactly what he was talking about. Having eyes on you wasn’t the nerve wracking aspect, you could do that in a sense of duty but this was more spectacle. Eyes for entertainment in it’s own manner and that was not what you were used too. You were not the one calling for attention.

The sight around the godswood was almost the opposite of the last time. Instead of a bright sun still prevailing lush green surrounding it with the small pond sitting by it reflecting off, it instead was that of cold. Yet, it almost felt more fitting for Winterfell as a whole. The pond partially frozen over on one end a snow banked the edges of the other.

Leading all around the snow was so white that it blended into the Weirwood and the red of it’s leaves stuck out as if it were the only colour to truly exist. The sky was fading from the gold peak of evening and found itself in shades of blue turning darker by each passing hour that had not taken away from how illuminated it all fell onto.

The last it seemed as if too many people were there, too many eyes and so much of it was ones that would turn around and stab you and the Starks in the back. Yet this time, even as the ones attending were people you both knew and trusted the right people weren’t there. There wasn’t enough.

Many were missing that deserved to be here, and their absence made the whole affair feel on the edge of bittersweet. It had taken blood and death to get here, but you two had risen from that darkness when none else had. It almost however felt identical as the moment anything came into view did ragged nerves deafen and blind you to everything but the pounding of your heart.

No decorations, no pomp, just the North and the godswood as it always was. And this time, no eyes you needed to hide from or avoid, yet still, they made you nervous all the same.

Ser Davos had adjusted his hold from light to something firmer and more comforting, sensing the tension as eyes all fell upon you. None could hear from such a distance, but he leaned more to you with a soothing “Don’t look at them, look at him. They aren’t here.”

You barley reacted, but he could tell by the small exhale of air from your lungs that you tried to ease down, relaxing more. The air was a bit stinging on your skin, but perhaps that helped you feel so drastically in the moment.

In the sights of the Old Gods, little needed to be presided over in terms of vows for marriage. Seen as a bonding of two people and less like an agreement upon two parties that requires much guidance, witnesses. No septon leading both to the end as if the marrying parties need to be hand held along the way. It was common amongst the Faith of the Seven, septons would do all the work, all the speaking when in truth there was little which needed to be said.

This wasn’t about the crowd, it was about the couple.

Faces that now you fought beside watched you both, others more proud then admiring. You dared not look at Maege Mormont. She'd had a mouthful to say to you about how you left for Dragonstone separate, and came back to a marriage.

No fanfare for the Southerners watching as the only ones who were there needed none for their sake, and the rest all knew this had nothing to do with them as people or even the North. Your mother, while not with the Old Gods, didn't follow the Seven anymore, and Ser Davos didn't care.

The Starks had been raised with the Old Gods and the new, as Catelyn grew up under the Seven. They all varied in who followed what stronger, but there was no question that the one who felt no connection to the new Gods was Jon. Catelyn was not his mother, he had no obligation to follow the Seven except for doing as such so Robb didn’t do it alone. But the older he got the more he let go of it.

You could remember once, jesting to him and Lord Stark that they both looked as if they were worried about bursting into flames if they set foot in the sept. Perhaps it was fair no one was left in Winterfell who preyed to the Seven. As much work as Jon still was putting in to rebuild what of Winterfell had been left in ruins, the Sept built specifically for the woman who shut him out his whole life did not quite reach the top of his priority lists.

Jon needed nothing but the Old Gods in his life and thus as he stood by the Weirwood it was that connection that mattered only. Without a shadow of doubt, Jon Snow was of the North.

“Don’t look for me in the ceremony. I’ll be there, but don’t look for me. You’re going to be Robb’s now, and I want you to be okay with accepting that.”

You listened to him that day. Knowing your future lied with The Young Wolf you were marrying and had to let Jon take that part of your heart away with him, and so you didn’t glance to him once. Now though, there was no one to look at, no one to hide your gaze from. This time, The White Wolf was the only one there with anything that mattered, and there was no use in hiding.

The dark fur around his shoulders made him look strong and fierce, sat broadly over his shoulders as the leathers across the rest of him were tied between greys, and browns and shades of black that made him stand out against the snowing land around him. You couldn’t pay attention to the way he looked at you, you already had to focus to keep your heart steady. You couldn’t handle how easily Jon painted thousands of words in the shine of his eyes when looking at you.

But you were handed over to him, a gloved hand reached out to pull you gently to him and truth be told there could have been yells and screams of war right beside you and you’d hear none of it. Just you two, in a place that you both grew up thinking was the one thing you’d never be allowed to have with one another. The freedom to be each others.

As Jon’s fur cloak was draped over your shoulders, the nerves melted into the ground and left you the longer his bright eyes refused to leave you. Still with your hand held in his, he carefully guided you to kneel before the carved face of the Weirwood in the cold of the snow and hadn’t let go as both of you closed your eyes as the wind blew around you.

You had prayed once to find a true life and love with Robb, and the Old Gods had granted you that. This time however? That love was still real, and it was real towards Robb just as strong and pure as it was towards Jon. You didn’t need to pray for love or a future that would bring a marriage peace. Not this time.

As the wind blew cold through your hair and dancing in a sting across your cheeks, you slowly opened your eyes, turning to look up to the carved face of the Weirwood. A quiet moment passed as you both stayed knelt there, lives so much more complicated then the last time you had been here and yet the nerves which had you shy and meek with Robb didn’t find it’s way back this time once more.

Jon no longer felt the need to hide what it was between you, and he would not pretend it was otherwise ever again. He was a man who felt things very deeply and very raw, and having to hide that all from people seeing the way he wished to be with you was a step too far in this new life. You couldn’t help but hope and pray that you were still good enough for him.

The gloved hand still wrapped on the cold ground with yours tightened to grab your focus back as if he could sense your mind drifting away. Flickering your eyes to the side, you could see his grey eyes shined so bright that they could light up a pitch black night sky. Standing with ease himself, one hand still holding yours to lead you up, and his other gently steadied you at your waist as for a moment you looked to one another.

Only one final thing was left, and the last was innocent and small as Robb sensed your ragged nerves, but Jon looked deep into your eyes with a softness that could drown you. And you knew it was only love he wanted to show these people he felt for you.

Taking a step close as you turned to look up more at him, the hand in yours leaving to gently cup the side of your cheek, thumb running along the skin. Just as your palms innocently found a resting place flat on his torso, Jon’s other hand left your waist.

Cupping your other cheek and lower to your jaw so he could tilt your head up to fit him. Closing the gap between you, it was not a shy peck but something needing with passion radiating from it. Lasting a few moments more than appropriate, but he kissed you with the same energy as if alone, almost sending you a step backward had your hands not been held tight against his chest. Only pulling back when your arms slid up more to his neck and the temptation to deepen it was found in him.

If the crowd had made a sound, neither of you heard it. His thumb still running over your cheek as he pulled from your lips to look at you before a genuine smile fell over him. Almost breathing out a laugh along with how brightly he smiled and you hadn’t even realized a teary eyed one came over you.

A moment of weakness, Jon leaned in for one more kiss. One a bit deeper as the sounds of a proud and amused crowd filtered in finally. But just as Jon pulled from your lips, gently tracing the bridge of your nose with his, he turned partially to look at his people. A playfulness in his tone that many had not heard from him so easily since having all been reunited under a new King in the North. The other hand on your jaw slipped down to your hip as he turned to them.

It was a bit love sick, but you hadn’t looked away from him yet. You found no desire to, just looking at a man too handsome for his own good that now gifted you his own name as you stood not just a King and Queen, but man and wife.

“It’s been a tough few months, and I think I speak for us all when I say it’ll do us all good to enjoy a celebration even just for tonight.” You only at the last second noticed a tinge of mischief in his voice as you failed to also catch the arm on your hip sliding down over the skirt of your dress. Just as Jon’s voice raised to a playfully louder projection, Jon knelt quickly to wrap an arm under you and in an instant swept you right off the ground as if weighing nothing. “Now, let’s get this one inside before she freezes.”

The surprise of the action, had entirely caught you off guard, barley able to wrap your arms around the back of his neck in a laughing protest “Jon-”

A wedding of Northerners indeed, all of them laughing in approval and goading into their King’s playfulness despite you almost wanting to hide in his neck in an amused fluster at Jon picking you up in his arms in such a grandiose display. Certainly not what the rigidness of the Seven usually called for.

Ser Davos looked a mix of proud and amused at both, before sharing a glance with Selyse with a tilt of his head as if to tell her to ease up in any disapproval of the people's entertainment. This certainly hadn't been how Stannis treated her at their own wedding that was for certain.

But, without saying a word of it to any, Selyse did feel a smile as she gracefully followed the crowd near the back. She had never met the man Stannis married you off too, and many times regretted the things she said about him when you all stood on opposite sides of a war.

She never met Robb Stark, but she knew Jon Snow and she could certainly say, she's never seen anyone pull such an easy smile and laugh out of you then he was doing now.

It only for a moment, had slammed into your mind as you stood there. You were fine, and it hadn't come into your thoughts up until music begun to play. It sounded not a single thing like that sound, but all the same your eyes darted to those playing it. As if waiting to see when they would brandish their blood soaked truth. Heart beginning to race in that moment your lungs tightened to something you could choke on, in a second did a whisper hit your ears but you wanted to whip around to see him nowhere near you. Despite the cracking of his voice speaking loudly in the hall.

“Your Grace, I feel I’ve been remiss in my duties. I’ve given you meat and wine and music, but I haven’t shown you the hospitality you deserve. Afterall, my King is long overdue a wedding gift for he and his Queen.”

Barley for a moment did you stand there on your own, but the hall was no longer the warm comfort stones of Winterfell, instead the stuffy air of The Twins as blood rushed from your veins to pool in your stomach and mouth as the world faded to muffles. The sounds as if they had been underwater, your vision so blurry you barley knew the world outside Robb in front of you.

Blue eyes haunted you and so did the powerful voice which would be the last thing you though you would hear. As if speaking into your ear, looking over the hall of people enjoying themselves as you stood back amidst a nightmare. You hadn't considered what was said in that moment, your mind was fading so fast you had perhaps mere seconds left and it meant nothing as Robb fell beside you.

“Jaime Lannister sends his regards.”

It echoed, and echoed in your mind. You heard it again and again right until the truth of music came back into sounds as a warm figure came to your side. Just as a hand tilted your chin to look over at him, you found Jon's grey eyes in a warm concern and a silent question. Looking back to the hall, you were in Winterfell and you could breathe once more.

Instead of any answer, you forced the echo out of your ears as you cupped his jaw gently and leaned up to press your lips gently to his.

Public affection as such was not Jon's preference, nor did you wish to be one to initiate it, but if just for tonight here was the only place it made sense. If you judged by the way Jon's hand found your waist to pull you a bit more into him, he agreed if just for tonight.

It was easy to laugh and speak that night. None of the girlish fears plagued what was to come, and none of it too was buried under the new feat of having it with one you never thought you would have. Last time there was hardly any food to speak of that sat in your stomach and only wine to stop the nerves from overtaking, even though they did anyways. Robb had at once point placed a gentle hand on your thigh whispering that you should try and at least at something.

Now, it was not at all the same. You knew what you were in for in terms of what came after such a reception and none of it was unknown. Food and ale were shared and the longer they were consumed the more rowdy the Northerners became, much of the night spent speaking with many as Jon would ensure you stayed right beside him with an arm pulling you into his side if you strayed too far.

The way in which some joked with you, did Jon's hand on your waist hidden by his fur still over you, slip down to your hip in a tight grip had you wondering just as you did over four years ago.

What exactly did this wolf have hiding in his desires?

When the crowd had noticed the newly weds had snuck off, they had no idea when you both had done so. Only some with the vague memory and ideas, that such a practice seemed common amongst the Stark men on their wedding nights. The tradition is fun when it is anyone but their own wife.

It was almost strange that it felt normal. As your eyes were trained out of the window, the new moon overhead on the clear night as Winterfell felt alive and the woods just beyond were as calm as they looked serene. Crackling of a fire increased as more wood was added to it before that warmth came and enveloped your back.

Jon's hands weren't greedy as he slipped his fur from your shoulders, letting it sit to the side as he pressed his chest into your back, one arm slipping around your front and holding your hand firmly over your stomach, the other running up and down your waist as he silently looked over you from his angle.

Neither of you rushed anything when he brought you back to his room, Jon's gentle rasp murmuring in your ear to give him a moment to stoke the flames that had gone low in his absence, leading to you finding the open window. His room was always on the colder side, more air blowing through that chilled things right down but in exchange Jon was diligent about keeping the fire properly tended too. Keeping warm in the bed was not an option for so long, only the easy to fake innocence of spending time on the fur before his fireplace was where Jon would explore you in early years together.

Both of you for the time were content looking out the window, Jon resting the side of his head against yours as you partially turned to nuzzle a bit into the feeling. Your voice was quiet as you could feel two scenarios swirling as images in your mind. “Jon, I know it won't change anything or why I'm even thinking of it..but, before everything, before Robb..I'm sorry I wasn't ready for you that day.”

His brows furrowed as he looked down at you, but your eyes looking wide at the outside winter but your voice was quiet and restrained. “There's nothing to be sorry for. I wasn't ready either.”

But you shook your head, throat a bit choking as you spoke. “I know, but I- we promised that day, that we would wait for the other to be ready. To have our first proper time with each other..but I didn't..” Jon tried to follow your thoughts but it went somewhere he didn't expect you to go on such a night. “I promised I'd wait for you, but I didn't. My first time was with Robb.”

You swallowed heavy, no regret was in that night together but the other image in your mind was something you thought you knew what it was, until he had yelled at you otherwise. Your voice quiet, “I'm sorry it meant that you..” You trailed off, but a distant and strained low tone in Jon finished as the hand around your front pulled you closer.

“It meant my first was Ygritte.”

He said nothing of it, but you felt the stiffness behind you. Your hand running along his arm as you moved to push the soft material up over his wrists to lightly trail over his skin. “No one deserves that to be their first. It should've been with someone who actually cared about you.”

Feeling him hid his face somewhat in your neck before turning to press a gentle kiss to the skin he found there, his voice was heavier then he wanted you to pick up on. Something painful he wanted to hold back from you noticing. “Don't apologize for what she did. None of that was your fault, you married Robb. You're first time was right to be with him.” Trying to protest that he didn't deserve what happened to him but he cut you off. A more firm and confident kiss pressed to your neck this time.

Silent for a moment, but what he said next had made you firmly pause. “I saw you, in the middle of..I saw you.” The hand over your front slowly made it's way to your scar as your breath hitched. His voice low in your ear, “You were telling Robb you were pregnant. I saw you both, could hear you together, and I kept seeing a child that looked like mine. Had your eyes, but looked like me. I kept seeing it, and it's the only thing that got me through that night.”

Finally turning in his arms, Jon settled them along your waist both as you reached up to cup his cheeks, leaning up to press a single kiss to his lips. Pulling back his grey eyes were painted over with a tenderness that was brewing with something close to adoration, and he found exactly the same in yours to his. Speaking in a whisper as you ran your thumb along the facial hair trailing his jawline. “I can't take away what she did, but now we have all the time in the world to let me make it up to you.”

Leaning forward more, you could feel his breath on your skin, his hands smoothing down to your hips running them over your dress a bit more sensually. “You've more then made it up to me, and I don't want her to have any part between you and me. She's gone, we're here and you're my wife..” As he tried finishing his thought, a breathless laugh left him weakly as he looked you over, a shine melting down to a genuine smile as he look at you. “My wife, you're really my wife..”

Nodding, your smile was close to something that threatened to swallow you whole, the ingenuity in his face that was so incredibly rare. “Your wife. Baratheon, then a Stark, and now a Snow.” He shook his head with a half hearted laugh trying to act as a scolding disapproval but not a hint of malice was in your words and it clearly struck something deep in his heart over the ease of it on you. “Hey, you were the one who claimed it sounded pretty attached to my name.”

Invading your space, Jon ran his lips again over your neck making a sensitive path to just below your ear before rasping into it, “And you're the one who said I was biased about you.”

Your hands trailed to grasp at his shoulders, ever so slowly moving to take his leathers and armour off as you tried not to shiver. “That was because you were trying to pretend as if men wanted to get my attention when we both know that's not true.”

Chuckling, Jon didn't stop you from slowly undressing him. Knowing the moment he took your dress off he wouldn't stop, and you almost shivered more at the thought. Your early time with Jon was so soft and innocent, going from that to Robb's dominating and filthy nature had been something close to a culture shock at the time. But now, it was finding out the darker part of Jon's mind may have been locked away more then you once thought.

The leather armours and tunic now off, left in a softer grey undershirt he snatched your hands when you went to pull it off. Looking down at you with a darkening in his eyes. “I could name fifty men out there who would do anything for a chance to fuck you.” An embarrassed fluster ran over your nerves so fast that Jon even picked up on it. Stepping forward with your hands still in his as they now sat at your waist, him pushing you backward. A small smirk at you trying to modestly shake your head, “So if I brought Tormund in here you're going to tell me he wouldn't jump at the first chance he gets to be inside you?”

Gods be good, Jon and Robb were both just as sadistic about embarrassing you, and you were pretty sure they both got off on it. Everything about the woman you tried to be all your life, and the two wolves with the love of your heart managed to be smug that they knew how to make you fluster in an instant. “He..we don't, it's only banter Jon I promi-”

Pushing you back further his eyes darkened more and his voice dropping more to a husk every time he spoke, “That wasn't an accusation, darling. Only a fact.” Just when you found a voice to say something playful back to try and gain any upper hand, Jon let go of your hands just as he shoved your back into the stone wall, pressing you into it as he rested both hands on either side of your head.

A knee pushing your legs apart as much as he could from under your dress but he refused to take it off of you. Just enough space to slide his foot in the under of your skirt to keep you more trapped on most sides to escape him. In juxtaposition to his rough tone, Jon gently ran his nose along yours before nudging it playfully. Your hands reaching up as he spoke, letting his curls fall loose. “If I wasn't here, he'd be the one to spend all night fucking you.”

Fingers raking through his curls, stopping gently to readjust when they'd reach too wild of a tangle to be gentle with, each time your nails scratched his scalp as he swallowed harshly enough you could hear as he did so. “I only want you, Jon. I promise, you alone.” He exhaled heavily, the fact that his mind was tied between his lust and such an innocent way you had spoken that with had him stop his teasing.

Trying to reign himself in to not scare you off, but you continued to run your hands through his hair and for a moment of weakness, Jon let his head fall into your neck with a grunt at how good it felt. Not even pulling or tugging, just raking through his curls as you felt his chest rising and falling a lot to keep himself collected. He tried murmuring your name, but the soft tone was light and airy close to your ear, now that held no seductive, playful intention despite how pressed into the wall he had you.

Jon pulled back a bit more from you. One hand running through your hair as he looked at you with a quiet in them. “I try to be gentle, I want to be gentle with you.” A conflict once more sat in the grey as you let one hand run over his hair back, while the other rested close to his cheek. “When I would imagine what our first time would've been, I always thought it would be slow. Take our time, never imagined me being so rough with you.”

This time, you grabbed his hands making your way both to his shirt as you covered his to pull it up and off, letting the material drop wherever it landed without a care. Reaching himself, you still in the ivory dress Jon had made specifically for you, knelt down carefully. Your palms braced on his thighs as you looked up with eyes shining wide at him. “And yet I love you all the same.”

Not waiting much for him to respond, you moved to take everything else off, leaving only his pants before you looked back up at him. The black ink seeped into his gaze again, one hand ran down the back of your hair while he looked at you with a silent, dark sternness as he nodded down at you.

A shaky exhale left at just how brooding yet confident he seemed as he looked down to you, slowly pulling them down his legs until there was nothing left on him. Your hands returned to his thighs, flat against his skin as you were so close to his cock. Already it looked thick, and painfully in need like he had been hard for quite some during throughout the night before even getting to his room.

But you didn't presume, and you waited for Jon as he moved to gently gather enough of your hair in a large hand, holding you steady without controlling your every movement. Enough that you knew he intentionally made sure none of it would fall in your face. Him putting his mouth on you made you nervous, but somehow as you knelt there, you knew he was struggling to let you do it to him.

His voice husking in a deep gruffness, “This is what we're going to do,” Your posture straitening up instinctively at the low authority he spoke with. “I'll let you take me like this tonight, but you have to promise me that you're not just doing it beacuse you think you should.” Your brows rose in a surprised question as he let his free hand trail across your jaw and lips. “I don't expect this, and I don't want you thinking I expect this. I'll let you have me in your mouth tonight, but you need to promise me you'll let me take care of you properly from now on.”

Your heart raced, something strange at how wanted to be the one to taste you, without any return when you'd give it willingly as much as he wanted. “Can we not negotiate equal terms, your grace?”

Jaw clenching, you also felt how much he was trying not to tighten his grip too much with his handful of your hair. “I want to take care of you, the only thing I want you to do when we're together is to feel good. Help me make you feel good, and I'm happy.” Your name came from his lips softly, “Are we alright with that?”

Genuinely watching with a true question before relaxing as you nodded. “I am.” Seeing there was something else on your mind he waited patiently as if his cock wasn't tinged a bit red there was so much blood rushing into it. “Is it still alright if I..” Your fingertips braced on his thighs a bit more as you bit your lip a bit nervously as if he'd say no. But he nodded silently for you to continue.

Gentle licks to the tip of his cock before you slowly made your way down his length, licks and pressing your lips all down him like a kiss. Down one side and then the other as Jon's stomach tensed at the sensation. One proper kiss to the tip before you slowly took him into your mouth, cock sliding easily in your mouth from how well you already licked his length but you didn't stop until you made it half way down.

Letting him slide in and out of your mouth half way, a hum around his cock too as you sucked. You wanted to savour it, savour how heavy he felt on your tongue and how much your jaw stung from the stretch so early.

Your eyes were closed as you made another small noise in your throat like a humming whine when you went deeper. Took more of him, half way to over two thirds of the way before you hadn't had enough air, by the time you could suck up and down his entire size up to the black coarse hair around the base. Your heart racing at the panic of him so deep but you just whined instead. Jon's cock soaked in your warm mouth, you hating coming off of him for too long, wanting to keep him in your mouth properly, always making him feel good, always feeling him twitch and throb at each deep suck.

Your fingers tensed against his thighs, and with not much room to go behind you at the wall, Jon readjusted his grip on your hair before ever so slowly moving. Giving you enough time to relax your throat, as he guided your head to bob along his cock at a steady, slow rate. Pulling you nearly off him before sinking so deep in your throat you couldn't take anything else and slowly right back. Never giving you a second to catch up but he also never pushed you anything close to rough or demanding.

Throbbing in your mouth, Jon felt that sensation almost too soon. Worked up almost from the very moment he had seen you looking at the very dress still adorning you. Him bare with his cock being soaked by your warm mouth as you almost lost yourself to the feeling. The beautiful ivory dress showing nothing even risque. Just modest, long and covering like you were most comfortable with but the image of such a sight mixed with such a filthy act drew him close.

He told you he'd let you have this, but his insides burned and the feeling too out of control as the desire to shove you down his entire cocks length roughly, over took him, did he suddenly pull you off him entirely. The sight of you gasping for air as a mix of your saliva and what of his seed already coated your tongue visible from the sudden movement.

Looking up at him with a question, “Jon?” But as Jon helped you stand he barley gave you any time to form more of a sentence before he grabbed both of your cheeks. Pulling you into him as your hands wrapped around his waist to steady yourself. Shoving you hard against the stone wall Jon pressed himself tightly against you, one hand slipping to your jaw to tilt your head up, making it far easier for him to bite your bottom lip and slide his tongue into your own mouth.

Your hands pressed flat against his chest, the jagged feelings of his scars sending a distressing feeling in your mind but Jon wouldn't part from your lips long enough to let you linger on the thought. Licking and brushing his tongue against yours as he felt you start to writhe against him.

Trying to call his name between the only breaths be let you have, Jon pulled back with a heaving pant and seething in his teeth as he looked you over. A full foot back from you as he eyed you down as if you had nothing before he knelt just enough to grab the skirt of your dress. Pulling it up and up until he could toss it onto the ground, yanking the fabric hiding your soaked core from him down enough that it tore as he slipped it down your legs.

A hand on your hip almost prompting you to step out of them as Jon looked you over once more, were it not you one might have mistaken his look for unimpressed but you knew all to opposite. The darkness in his eyes as he grabbed one of your hands, guiding it to his cock. You looked small trying to wrap around how thick he was, even moreso as his hand stayed, guiding you to stroke his cock with tight, quick and somewhat rough strokes.

Your eyes flickering up to his, Jon nodded in bright approval before letting you stroke him on your own, one hand cupping your cheek and the other around the back of your head, threading through your hair and somewhat grabbing the back of your neck. Jon once more captured your lips, biting your bottom one every time you let his kiss distract you. His breathing as he kissed you picked up, demanding you let him deepen the kiss as the sounds were almost loud against the fire crackling on the other side of the room.

Your veins felt too hot, the room cold with the window beside you wide open but you could feel sweat forming as if your entire person burned in Jon's presence. His grip on you tightened as he shook in your touch, cock twitching in your hand.

Just as he groaned a mumbling of your name into your mouth, Jon send the hand on your cheek down to wrap around your hand on his cock again. Moving along with your strokes as he came, painting your lower stomach where your own scar was with his seed and on your mound. Grunting out as he moved to bite at your neck as the last of him covered your skin.

You almost felt too overwhelmed, like Jon's mind was racing far quicker then you could keep up. Finally moving your hand from his cock only to grasp at your wrist, and slamming it up in his hold against the wall beside your head as he stared at you. A small ask of his name as he stared you up and down.

Pulling away suddenly Jon did outstretch a hand to guide you to the other side of the room. Turning to stand somewhat behind you running all along the skin of yours he could reach. “Our first time was almost right here.” Leaning to rasp in your ear, “Will my wife let me fuck her in our bed?” Nodding, Jon kissed the side of your head in response. Pushing you forward, “Lay down for me.”

Braced up on your palms as one knee bent slightly as you lay on the fur, Jon just looked at you with a shake of his head to drive a thought out of his mind it appeared. Slowly he almost appeared to approach you on the bed like a predator, prowling towards what he wants. Climbing up on top of you though, Jon left a lot of that on the ground outside of here.

Kissing you gently, no tongue, no teeth, your hands innocently running along his shoulders and back as Jon held himself up with one hand and caressed the skin of your waist with the other. Nudging your nose with his in between each kiss, he pulled back to look at you, that intense greed not so close to the surface. Jon moved to partially lay beside you but leaned over enough so you were on your back still looking up at him, your legs intertwined with the other. His hand tracing your cheek as he leaned to kiss you softly again.

Your hand ran along his shoulder and up through his curls. “I love you.”

The smile was almost boyish that came over his face. A brightness back in the greys of his eyes as he muttered back, “I love you, more then anything. A year ago I still thought you were dead, now you're my wife.” A small huffing laugh like he was simply in disbelief.

“And you're King in the North. Finally home where you belong.”

Almost a bashful look came over him, your grin pulling a incredulous one from Jon as he rolled his eyes playfully. “Big home for just the two of us.” Your heart lightened but Jon just looked at you with an adoration as he felt lost in his own mind. “If we're lucky, this time next year maybe we'll have at least one more to add.”

Both of you laughing at how easily you slipped such a dry, “Oh, just one? Changed your mind?”

Jon looked at you once more before leaning down to kiss you, marking his way down your neck and collarbones, as you sighed out high pitched. Jon climbed back to rest between your legs, stopping his mouth at your breasts. Greedily grasping rough handfuls in both hands he groped the skin as his lips kissed around them before jumping with a bite to your nipples. Pulling a gasp and your legs failing to close now as they were on either side of his body.

You could feel the spark inside of you growing, you core feeling more like matches striking at it trying to ignite but still overwhelmed as you hissed at each rougher tug of his teeth. Just as you cried out at one did Jon relent, soothing your breasts in more of a caress before moving to pull your legs open more to fit his broad upper body.

Slinking his hand through his own seed covering your mound, Jon dragged two fingers through it before landing on your clit, rubbing tight, harsh circles into it that had your head arching back. Your core burned the touch and yet you couldn't decide if you needed more of less, but you trusted Jon to give you exactly what you needed. Rubbing rough and fast your orgasm snuck up on you suddenly, a tightening in your stomach that had you cry out.

Legs around Jon shaking just at the peak of you lungs stopping in desperation of on overwhelming pleasure swimming through you, Jon tugged your hips up to his mouth. Licking sloppily at your clit and down flat along your folds. Running that pattern up and down as if smearing what wetness you granted him to soak all over you, before he would taste it all for himself. Sucking at your clit making you jump with a surprised whine of an over stimulation.

But Jon licked and sucked more at your clit, holding your legs and moving them over his shoulders before grasping tight at your hips, as he ran his tongue just as his fingers did but he kept soaking you. Licking, a nibble of his teeth that had your back arching in sparks of need only to have him sooth it with a kiss before licking gently back down to your cunt where you were soaked.

His tongue running inside you, your breathe hitching even more as if no air would come to you, but Jon's hands were gentle and his tongue was precise. Knowing what made your insides twist like a burning coil, your hand gently running through his hair and none of it held the intensity of just before neither of you rushing towards an end this time.

Despite the cold air from the window blowing in you felt a thousand leagues warmer then you should have between the fire beside, the fur under and Jon between your legs you could feel sweat dampening your hair, stuttering breaths as you felt the coil twisting inside as Jon licked deep inside of you along a sensitive wall that almost made you feel something swell up like tears.

His hands on your hips tighter before finally yanking you to his mouth, soaking you as much as you were him. One hand changing paths, Jon reached up grasped at your breast, groping as the hand not in his hair held onto it, Jon licking sloppily along your cunt to your clit and back before burying his mouth inside you, twisting the hand on your breast to hold yours resting now in the space between them.

That burning pleasure tightened and tightened until the coil snapped and you were blinded by the light that had you arching your back and crying out Jon's name. Growling into your cunt more as your hands tightened in his hair until you were shaking from the sparks of pleasure still hitting you after. Rising up, Jon used that hand with yours to push it against the bed, keeping your fingers interlocked as he used his other hand now to align his cock with your soaking core.

Looking down at you, your eyes wide and red from tears begging to fall as you heaved for proper air Jon gave you one kiss before slowly sinking inside you. Not a single instance of resistance as his cock slid as deep inside of you as you could take him, clenching soaked, tight and warm around him he already throbbed inside of you with a groan. Burying his face in your neck as he slowly pulled out only enough to get halfway before needing to seek you out again.

Whatever show the open window let sounds out free to be heard with, was non existent in the reality of your own ears. Jon slowly thrusting in and out of you, face buried in your neck as the sounds from you were weak cries that you couldn't spare the energy to muster enough for. Only music for Jon it was what he could hear of how wet you were around him.

His other hand reaching up grab yours, and push the same down just on the other side of your head fingers intertwined as he kissed you. Tongue asking for gentle permission across your lips before brushing against yours, his kiss as sensually slow as his cock sliding in and out of you.

Pulling now out to almost completely outside of you and right back to as deep as you could get. His hands held yours tightly as his kiss grew more needy, a bit deeper and urgent as you clenched around him. His cock dragging along such a sensitive wall you were almost embarrassed it was causing you to soak him so much more.

Legs shaking around him, Jon slowly fucked right along that wall until you cried out against his lips, a beg for air and reprieve neither of which was granted to you. Fucking you slowly, until Jon had to start thrusting harder to get as deep when he had enough. Grunting he let go of your hands and snatched you up, surprising you as he flipped you both so he lay on his back.

You now more perched up in his lap, looking down at him your hands braced on his chest as you suddenly turned very flustered at the angle he was looking at you like. Lungs paused, not normally a position you found yourself in, but Jon's eye were bright and adoring as he looked up at you.

Finding your hips he guided you to hover back over his cock, your nervous eyes finding him as he husked out, “It's alright, darling. You're doing so well,” His grip slowly helping you sink down on his cock but from this angle he was deeper then ever, seated so fully inside of you if he came this deep inside you, you didn't know how you wouldn't find yourself with child in the morning. Groaning himself, Jons head flew back against the pillow as his eyes closed. Hands never leaving you, guiding you to move up and down his cock at his own strength and his own pace.

Moving you so that you were dragged along that sensitive wall against him as your eyes sealed closed with a stuttering breath. Airy voice as your nails dug into his chest as you moved slowly along with his hands moving you up and down. “You-fuck, Jon you feel so good, so, so good inside of me please..”

But Jon didn't speed you up or let you speed up. Just keeping you on a slow, overwhelming pace that had you feel every single inch of him every wet slide inside you. Dragging you along for his own ride that had your muscles burning and tingling, a fire amongst the wetness Jon sunk his cock inside.

A whine clawed it's way from your throat, begging his name but your eyes sealed closed trying to catch your breath with each thrust inside. Sitting up suddenly, Jon shifted you both so you were straddling his lap more, as one of his arms wrapped around behind you to keep you steady against him, the other holding onto your hip as he begun to move you a little harder against his cock.

Your hands reached for him, winding behind the back of his neck and up into his curls as finally the sounds of the room begun to slap together more as you moved with him bouncing on his cock with a more raw need. Tight around his neck, Jon took the arm behind your back and grasped at one of your breasts, tugging and twisting your nipple as you kissed him.

By each second you lips were exploring one another, Jon moved you harder up and down on his cock. A bigger yank to pull you onto him as you moved just as eagerly as the pace increased in speed. A steady sound smacking of your skin together and your cries grow more to quiet whines that stuttered with every single bounce on his cock.

Tugging somewhat at his hair, made Jon fuck up into you a little harder each time you did as he moved from your breast to keep your lips to his, a hand at the back of your head not that you wanted to go anywhere else. Let the fire of his desire burn through you until nothing was left but what you could offer his lips and his cock.

Faster and rougher, using both hands, yanked your hips up and down on his cock as the sound grew louder in volume and tempo. Holding onto one another tightly Jon felt you seize up in his arms the coarse hair around the base of his cock raw as it rubbed against your clit each time and just as your orgasm washed through you was it mixed with the hot seed spilling deep inside you. Balancing the other out as your legs almost widened around your straddling more almost desperate to feel such hot cum was tearing through you but kissing Jon meant you wanted no parting words over it.

But then he kept fucking you, kept bouncing you on his cock at the same speed and roughness. Instead of easing you back up he dove back in, the wetness graced his ears as music better then anything someone could come up with. Letting go of your lips, Jon looked up at your eyes, his own blown out and pitch black, now both his hands on and guiding your hips still. “Fuck, should never leave.” His voice a deep rasp, “Should stay like this together for good, keep you right here with me until I know I've given you a child..”

A faint moan came from your mouth as you felt that burn of desire again and Jon swallowed your cries into his kiss until you could compose a sentence.“Anything to make you happy..I promise...”

Nodding, he whispered up at you, “Then we stay here, right in our bed, however long it takes..” Your orgasm slipped past your notice as he was shallowly thrusting deep, seizing in his touch and around his cock before Jon groaned your name out too, spilling deep inside you again and yet he still was hard.

Kept fucking you, as you both wrapped your arms around the other as you felt tears for the pleasure setting you on fire only screaming for Jon, the world outside of him did not exist.

Once or twice you rested, Jon keeping you on your side more as he would gently move to tip a drink of water gently down for you, keep you with the right energy, but it wouldn't last. Jon would flip you once more onto your back as he took you more times then he or you could count.

For once, neither of you had any real dream of sorts and as you stayed wrapped up in each others close arms facing one another, Jon pulled you into his chest. Neither of you also had noticed that you both only fell asleep mere hours before the sun rose.

You fell into a slumber with no real thought, cunt burning and aching from Jon's cock, stomach thighs anything else painted with whatever cum you couldn't take deep. Your mind was safe and settled that night in Jon's arms, and Jon had no dreams to haunt him the same.

The only peace left in the brewing storms of the world at least was found in your bed, in Jon's arms.

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

[jackoshadows]

I end up writing a lot about Jon Snow and Arya Stark because their relationship is indeed special in the world of Asoiaf.

However, in terms of siblings bonds, love and friendship, Jon is also incredibly close to Robb. As Jon puts it, his best friend and rival and constant companion. And even just reading Jon's memories of Robb and their interactions before he leaves for the Wall is just some of the emotionally heavy moments in Jon's POV chapters. He thinks of Robb more than even Arya. When he says farewell to his best friend Samwell in book 5, it's Robb that he remembers. If we look at mentions of the Stark siblings in Jon's POV chapters:

I know GRRM has mentioned he regrets not giving Robb a POV and I have to agree because I would have loved to burrow into his thoughts on everything.

It's clear from the text, IMO, that Robb understands and empathizes with Jon being a bastard where Arya (and Bran) are too young for the same. When Robb is a little kid he doesn't get it - the same way Arya and Bran don't get it when we meet them at the start of AGoT. We have Jon's own memories of him and Robb playing and Robb declaring that Jon can never be Lord of Winterfell because he's a bastard.

An older Robb, however, keenly empathizes with Jon. I imagine it can't have been easy to accept that he was destined to be a Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North while the half brother who grew up side by side with him had no proper future planned out for him. It would not have been easy for him to see Jon seated separately or not allowed in the training ground with a prince. He would have sensed Jon feeling ostracized and bitter and understood the cause for it.

Robb would have understood that Jon had nowhere else to go when Jon chose the Wall. That with Ned and the other adults not offering other options for Jon, the Wall was a chance for Jon to be a ranger like their uncle Benjen.

It can even be argued that Robb marrying Jeyne after she 'comforted' him was so as to not do what his father did. We see Jon wrestle with the same dilemma with Ygritte, determined not to be like his father and avowing sex so as not to have a bastard.

He seemed to have trouble saying his brothers' names. "That night, she . . . she comforted me, Mother." Catelyn did not need to be told what sort of comfort Jeyne Westerling had offered her son. "And you wed her the next day." He looked her in the eyes, proud and miserable all at once. "It was the only honorable thing to do. She's gentle and sweet, Mother, she will make me a good wife." - Catelyn, ACoK

The little bit where Robb and Jon say farewell is so loaded with both of them leaving things unsaid but understanding what was left unsaid at the same time.

In fact all of Jon's farewells - with Bran, Robb and Arya in that order - establishes the kind of relationships he has with the 3 of them in increasing order of importance. Robb and Jon's conversation in particular, demonstrates their maturity, understanding and love, and touches on a shared sense of empathy between them.

"You Starks are hard to kill," Jon agreed. His voice was flat and tired. The visit had taken all the strength from him. Robb knew something was wrong. "My mother …" "She was … very kind," Jon told him. - Jon, AGoT

Without Jon saying anything, Robb senses an emotionally heavy interaction with Catelyn. This speaks to Robb knowing how Catelyn has previously treated Jon and Jon's own response to that.

In the same vein, Jon, not wanting to hurt Robb while saying goodbye, assures Robb that Catelyn was 'kind'. That's Jon acknowledging Robb's love for his mother even as he himself hates her.

Robb looked relieved. "Good." He smiled. "The next time I see you, you'll be all in black." Jon forced himself to smile back. "It was always my color. How long do you think it will be?" "Soon enough," Robb promised. He pulled Jon to him and embraced him fiercely. "Farewell, Snow." Jon hugged him back. "And you, Stark. Take care of Bran." - Jon, AGoT

They just love each other so much.

It also speaks so much to their bond that Jon was ready to risk desertion to help Robb in his war and begs for Robb's forgiveness when he then ultimately decides to stay at the Wall and Robb declaring - despite opposition from his mother and Theon's betrayal - that Jon will be his heir, Lord of Winterfell and King in the North, looking past prejudice and bigotry

And that's the beauty of their bond, where Jon when considering Stannis' offer of Winterfell, recalls Robb's hurtful words and is so emotionally distraught that he blacks out in fury.

“You can’t be Lord of Winterfell, you’re bastard-born. My lady mother says you can’t ever be the Lord of Winterfell.” - Robb

When all the while this was what Robb was saying about the brother he loved.

“Should I die without issue, I want him to succeed me as King in the North.” - Robb

This is why Robb Stark's last decree is important. For closure for the Jon/Robb relationship and Jon's own conflicted feelings about accepting Stannis' offer of Winterfell. To know how much Robb loved him and accepted him as a brother. That it was not all one sided - that just as Jon wanted to desert to help his brother, Robb was declaring Jon his heir and Lord of Winterfell. The decree speaks to that bond of brotherhood, trust, loyalty and love.

Jon refuses Stannis's offer because of preconditions like burning the Winterfell Godswood - the Old Gods of the North - and his guilt of taking what was Robb's. With Robb's decree there are no such preconditions and it affirms Robb's trust in him to do what's right.

And I hope some day GRRM finishes TWoW and we get to read Jon Snow's reaction to getting that final decree and knowing that Robb did indeed think Jon would be Lord of Winterfell.

#Robb Stark #Jon Snow #ASoIaF

[swallowtail-ageha]

Scrolling through your asoiaf tag and you have such good and correct opinions like how can anyone love just Dany or just Sansa or just Arya like how can anyone not see the parallels between Dany and Sansa it makes me feel so crazy like why are there so few people who love all the girlies?? I genuinely love every single female POV character and can’t imagine hating any of them. I mean sure yeah Cersei is a villain but you’re telling me her tragedy doesn’t touch your heart? Watching this woman desperately try to avoid her prophecy as it unfolds before you doesn’t have you in a death grip? Or like are you unmoved by Sansa telling an annoying snotty little boy how brave he is because she wants him to feel better? Dany comforting Missandei when her brother dies? Arya getting to the house of the black and white and immediately thinning to being a man a cup of water (or at least what she thought was water)? How about Sansa telling Joffrey she hopes Robb cuts his head off? Dany sassing the man who wants to open the fighting pits? Arya telling Jaquen to kill himself? Like please come on. All three girls are obviously different but they share so many very endearing traits. I am fiercely holding tight to my delusion that Dany and Sansa will bond over stories and songs and Arya will teach Dany about all the flowers in Westeros and then Sansa will show them how to make flower crowns and embroider little emblems on Arya’s clothes

First of all tysm!!!!

The whole arya vs sansa vs dany fandom fight frustrates me to no end, mainly because all parties involved seem to have little to no empathy to the characters whose stans they oppose. It's all maliciously extrapolating some parts of the text to make them see worse than what they are (ex: daenerys' "if i look back i am lost" getting twisted from "dany knows that dwelling on what ifs and turning your back after you have taken a commitment will only damage you in the long term" in "dany doesn't want to reflect on her past mistakes and will go mad and get stabbed to death" or sansa getting frustrated at sweetrobin being a sign of her being ableist and classist while it's. Just a normal reaction of a stressed and traumatized 13 yo who is otherwise very sweet to her cousin)

For loving the female characters same! Even those who commit outwardly villainous acts do get lots of humanizing moments, Cersei, as awful as she is, is simply a product of the hyper misogynistic society she lives in plus years of parental and spousal abuse (and the doomed by prophecy vibes) and. I genuinely don't get how people can look at the walk of shame and say it's a fitting punishment to her crimes

Overall all the hate for female characters that are more complex or more driven or more morally ambiguous than what most female characters are presented as in other media in a fandom who (supposedly) prides itself in liking morally ambiguous characters is.. frustrating, really. I blame both fandom misogyny but also the GoT series, as it's outright changes in female character's actions and stories to make them look better or worse than what they originally were skewered the visions of almost everyone in the fandom (arya is an egregious victim of this. Scenes such as her caring for Weasel or her befriending sex workers in braavos don't exist and they added that "all girls are idiot" scene that i hate and they removed all her plan to free the northmen from harrenal and she got turned from traumatized child to hashtag no one super cool assassin and her character got straight up murdered in the tv series.)

Oh and also for kickstarting the whole jonsa vs jonerys thing which i'm pretty sure is the origin of the stupid dany vs sansa wars

And yes!! Dany Sansa and Arya should get to meet and reunite! While i do think that there will be some slight tensions between Sansa and Arya because they left on Not So Well terms, they have also matured a lot, so i do think they would have an heartfelt reunion. Meanwhile Dany and Arya could bond because of both their connection to Braavos and Arya's admiration for those who free slaves, and Dany would empathize (and feel a common ground) with Sansa for her being a child who had all her family die and got married extremely young while beeing creeped on by older men, while Sansa, who is shown to admire women like Margaery or Myranda, who are shown to be very keen regarding politics or social issues, something that Dany is

In the end, i genuinely hope that all three of these traumatized little girls get their happy ending and none of them dies, they all are interesting and complex characters that share parallels with each other, and it sucks that because of stupid ship wars or discussions on who would get the throne they get pitted against each other. THEY WOULD BE FRIENDS Y'ALL

#anyways i am holding onto the hope that ADoS ends with dany legalizing gay marriage and marrying sansa #sorry if it gets super rambly and incoherent anon because i always tend to do this when i get an ask #i just want to tell you that your ask made my day and it was all on point!!!! i hope you have a nice week month year life #asoiaf

[dracodazaii]

im sorry but i can never be a lyanna stan guys.

just lemme explain.

obviously this is only if she willingly went w rhaegar

To begin with, the situation in its simplest form is that Rhaegar and Elia are married, amicable yet not in love, and Rhaegar runs off with Lyanna, causing chaos to ensue amongst the realm.

Even if no war occured and everything was fine, how can Lyanna try to justify running away with a married man, especially on the way to her brothers wedding which feels very selfish, even if Brandon didn’t want to marry Cat, like she still ruined their wedding day.

Not to mention, that running with Rhaegar meant that shes inserted herself into his marriage which is Elia’s place. How nonsensical it is to run away with a married man and somehow marry him!

There’s two routes people go to justify it, and I’ll explain why I think they suck:

1) E-R-L is a polygamous marriage: This is not appeasable to the realm at all! Nobody will accept that. The only reason Aegon+Rhaenys+Visenya were accepted was because they were conquering Westeros, and like you can’t say shit about the guys conquering you!! Also the Targs were on thin ice then, and Maegor also tried, and look what happened afterwards!

2) E-R was annulled and R-L are married: I don’t think this is reasonable at all. Considering that Rhaegar is only HEIR, just like Daemon, for example. Both wanted annulments and both need the permission from the King and/or High Septon, but also considering how the likes of Aegon IV couldn’t annul his own marriage, do you really think a measly heir could?! At least in Daemon’s situation, he had no children, but as Aegon IV and Rhaegar both had kids (Elia giving birth twice in 3 years) theres no grounds for annulment, and it would disinherit his children potentially anyway, or even start a second Dance. As soon as you have a second wife, whether polygamous, annulled or dead first wife, war will be almost inevitable between the potential heirs.

Also Ik its not possible.. but can we stop with the E/R/L shipping in a serious manner (crackship is fine but in canon is 😐)

Like genuinely thinking mid-20s Elia would want to romance a 14 year old girl, would be fine with her husband romancing said 14 year old, or join in together, is so crazy to me. Like, yes Rhaegar is very much in the pedo-realm but why would Elia also follow suit??!

And like not to be a huge Robert Baratheon stan here (i hate GOT era him) but you can’t deny that it is the rebellion+it’s repercussions on his life, that change him so heavily into this twisted abusive, pedo man. He was not a great guy pre-rebellion, he slept around, was loud and rowdy, but I feel like you can’t really say that Lyanna somehow predicted that he would be this abusive evil man, tbh it seems like she just disliked his promiscuity which is valid, but in doing the same to Elia, her point gets invalidated in my eyes.

Also next point is the age-situation.

Now i know that obviously in a real life situation, a 14 year old girl is at no blame for the groomer actions of the adult…. however just look at how GRRM perceives this. like not as an “oh medieval girls married at 14, its fine” because they were still mentally children… but i mean how GRRM perceives relationships akin to R-L and characters by Lyannas age in ASOIAF-verse.

Ok so GRRM thinks R-L is romantic, which means that the groomer undertones aren’t necessarily meant to be there, and its meant to be more of a Romeo-Juliet situation (which heavily fucked over Romeos girl Rosaline ie Elia). He also believes Dany-Drogo and San-San is healthy, so I don’t think age heavily affects characters romantic feeling and actions much then.

Then if we see character Lyanna’s age, they’re treated as adults (yes some do have child impulses but overall adults). You have Robb acting impulsively like a kid, but ultimately being treated as an adult and being killed. I feel like even though they have kid impulses, they’re meant to get adult consequences for their actions.

Also ages as a whole is fucked up in ASOIAF in comparison to real world, like you have baby Rickon Stark going feral in Skagos, you have 3 year old Joffrey Velaryon/Strong squaring up to Aemond, and you even have 11 year old Benjicott Blackwood being an absolute beast of a warrior when in the real-world, he’d be just a kid, useless in defence.

#asoiaf #game of thrones #anti rhaegar x lyanna #lyanna stark bashing #elia martell #rhaegar targaryen #rhaegar targaryen bashing #lyanna stark #a song of ice and fire #got #elia martell deserved better