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themockingpoint · 2 years

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Sorry a day late but here is day 15

Love

Five times Sansa helped her family find love and the one time they helped her

1. Sister

“I just don’t understand!” Said Sansa as she followed Arya.

“That is a new one.” Arya said with a roll of her eyes.

“Watch it…” Sansa warned. “You and Gendry are great together.”

“We are just friends.” Arya stressed.

“Yeah, I usually am struck speechless by my friend’s bodies as well.” Sansa deadpanned, referencing her sister’s reaction at the Stark-Poole pool party.

“You… You just don’t understand.” Arya said, pathetically.

Sansa growled in frustration before looking past Arya and smiling in realization. “Ok then. My friend Alla has expressed interest. I guess you would not mind if…”

“Absolutely not!”

“But you just said…”

“Gendry is mine! Back off!” Arya snapped, before there was a ‘het-hem’ behind her. Sansa’s sister’s long face got even longer as she recognized the source of the voice.

“Toodle-loo!” Sansa said, with a cheeky wave. “I am sure you two have a lot to talk about. Gendry? Our curfew is at 10pm. Try to have her back by then!”

2. Cousin

“Hey, Sansa.” Myrcella said, holding up a bag for the pool party.

“Oh! Hey Cella!” Sansa said, ushering her in. “You are… really early.”

Myrcella grimaced and Sansa waved her down when she realized how rude she came across. “I am so sorry! I just…”

“No! It is fine!”

“Sorry! I just got off of work and going home was the opposite direction and…”

“Cella, it is fine.” Sansa said, holding her forearms.

“Phew. In that case, is there anywhere for me to change?” She asked, and Sansa pointed her in the direction of the bathroom with the broken door.

“Thanks tons!” Myrcella said, practically skipping to the bathroom.

A moment later a voice behind her said, “Hey Sans, is there anyone in the downstairs bathroom?” Sansa turned to see Jon holding swim trunks at the base of the stairs. “Ma is hogging the one upstairs.”

“No you are good.” Sansa lied. Myrcella had been half in love with her cousin since the band incident but was too much of a chickenshit to do anything about it. Maybe Sansa could jumpstart it.

Jon walked over to the bathroom and opened the door without bothering to knock. Sansa got a good look into the room as Myrcella stiffened with her back to the door and her heart shaped butt on display.

Sansa stepped away so that she could not see into the bathroom to give her friend some privacy as Jon stammered out some apologies. Sansa smiled when instead of pushing Jon out of the doorway to slam the door, she grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him inside.

“About damned time…” She said to herself.

3. Brother

Sansa rolled her eyes at her baby brother, on his first date at the movies. She was somehow the one designated to supervise their date and munched on popcorn behind him.

Shireen Baratheon was a good family friend and it surprised everyone when he asked her out. With her scars the girl did not have the easiest time growing up and was a little untrusting when she was asked out by the handsome Rickon Stark. It was only Sansa interfering that stopped Rickon from totally mucking it up. (So Sansa was biased? Sue her!)

But it seems that Sansa is going to need to hold his hand for their entire relationship! Sitting in the row behind him, she saw how his hand kept rising to put over her shoulder before lowering, changing his mind. After the seventh time this happened Sansa rolled her eyes, grabbed his elbow as it rose and pushed it upwards and over the other girl's shoulder.

Shireen stiffened and looked over surprised. Rickon for his part looked just as surprised. The girl was not exactly convinced at his earnestness yet but leaned into the cuddle anyway, making Rickon look like the rooster who found the roost.

“Loser.” Sansa thought affectionately

4. Uncle

“I do not know…” Uncle Edmure said, scratching the back of his head.

“You like her. She likes you.” Sansa stressed, annoyed.

“She is your cousin.” Edmure said, looking at Myranda across the room sitting at their table looking bored.

“Exactly! My cousin!” Sansa stressed, even though that was a stretch. Her and Myranda shared a set of Great-Great-Great-Great Grandparent. Still their families were still close.

“Sansa I don’t…”

Sansa rolled her eyes and shouted, “Myranda! He said yes!”

Edmure gave her a look of horror and Sansa gave her a cheeky grin. “I expect to be a bridesmaid at your wedding!”

5. Aunt

Sansa sat playing with her doll and Margaery cleaned up the play area. The girls did not get to spend time together as they liked so they used the time they had had to the fullest.

“Is Willas picking you up?” Sansa asked.

“Probably. Why?”

“Nothing.” Sansa said, unconvincingly. “It is just… Aunt Lyanna gets happier when is the one to pick you up.”

“Really?” Margie said, mischievously.

“Yeah. And she said…” Sansa began before blushing hard.

“Go on.”

“She said that he has an… butt for days.” She finished causing both girls to start giggling in hysterics.

“You know what this means!” Margie asked. “It means she likes Willas! Old ladies only talk about boy’s butts when they like them!”

“We could be family!” Sansa whispered. “Aunt Lyanna?”

“Yes, sweetling?”

“Do you like Willas?” Sansa asked, and Lyanna turned scarlet.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Do you like Willas? Margie’s brother?” Sansa said.

“Sansa…”

“You should ask him out!” Margie said, and Lyanna tilted her head. “I once heard him talk about how much he likes how you are with the horses.” Margie confirmed and if that was not a declaration of true Love Sansa did not know what was.

“I don’t know girls…” Lyanna began and Sansa piped up.

“You said that it is a woman’s world now too! And they should not hesitate to grab life by the treats.” Sansa said, reminding her aunt.

“By the what?”

“Treats!” Sansa said, beaming.

Lyanna finally realized what Sansa meant and she did not realize that she was there during that conversation with Lysa and was mortified that she was using that euphemism. But the girl was right. She should be the one to make the first move. Willas was plenty handsome and she deserved some of that man butt!

“You two are right.” Lyanna said, ruffling hair to both girl’s displeasure. “Maybe I will ask him out.”

Lyanna couldn’t help but grin as both girls jumped up and down and started dancing in successful glee.

1+ Family

Sansa looked up from her book as Uncle Edmure and Gendry walked in without a word. “Hey guys, what's oomph!” Sansa was taken off guard as the only two family members taller than her both picked her up and carried her to her room

Quicker than Sansa could think, she was deposited in her room where Myranda, Arya, Margaery, Myrcella, Shireen, and her Aunt Lyanna were waiting. “What is going on?” Sansa asked, but got no answer other than being stripped of her cropped sweatshirt, yoga pants and even bra.

The group (mostly Margaery and the Baratheon girls) quickly had her hair done up and make-up done, talking and joking with each other ignoring Sansa’s questions. Finally they were finished making her look like she was going to Prom again and Ed and Gendry picked her up and brought her to the door.

“Why do I feel like I am being sold?” Sansa asked rhetorically.

“Welllll….” Arya said, “You want to play matchmaker so badly we figured that we’d return the favor. My Friend Edric Dayne is outside.”

“What!” Sansa hissed, but before she got a response the door opened to see Ned in a sports coat and holding a Red Rose.

“Hi Ned.” She said, but the entire group behind her seemed to be intimidating him.

“Get her back at a decent hour!” Edmure said.

“But not too decent!” Myranda said with a waggle of her eyes.

“If you hurt her I will find you.” Lyanna said in a low growl.

“I- I am really looking forward to this.” Ned said, earnestly.

“Yeah, me too.” Sansa said.

“You had no idea this was happening did you?” Ned asked, completely unfooled.

“No.” She said, as he opened the passenger door to his purple truck. Between that and the rose, he was easily the most chivalrous man she had ever gone out with (not that Joffrey and Harry put up a great competition. “But that does not mean I am not excited!”

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callalily2000 · 2 years

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“The winters are hard, but the Starks will endure. We always have.” - Ned Stark

Ft.

- Lord Eddard Stark A.K.A. Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, Hand of the King, The Quiet Wolf

- King Robb Stark A.K.A. King in the North, Lord of Winterfell, The Young Wolf

- Lady Catelyn Stark née Tully A.K.A. Lady of Winterfell, Lady Stoneheart

- Rickon Stark A.K.A. Prince of Winterfell

- Jon Snow A.K.A. Prince Aegon Targaryen, The Prince Who Was Promised, Lord Commander of the Knights Watch, King in the North, The White Wolf

- Queen Sansa Stark A.K.A. Queen in the North, Lady of Winterfell, Wardeness of the North, Alayne Stone, Sansa Lannister, Lady Bolton, Little Dove, Little Bird

- Arya Stark A.K.A. Arya Underfoot, Arry, No One

- King Brandon Stark A.K.A Bran the Broken, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Six Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, The Three Eyed Raven, The Winged Wolf

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flowerandblood · 1 year

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A Winter Beauty (1)

[Aemond Targaryen x fem!Stark reader]

[warnings: kissing and fluff]

[description: Aemond and his family arrive at Winterfell for Rickon Stark's Name Day. There, Aemond meets his daughter, who arouses his desire. I changed some names and facts for the sake of the plot. Viserys is also slightly younger in this version.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next parts: Masterlist

_____

Viserys and his family have come to Winterfell to celebrate the Name Day of Rickon Stark, Lord of Winterfell. It was a nod to the north, a sign of respect for their loyalty and devotion to the crown for generations. Viserys decided that this visit, although for trivial reasons, would be of great political importance and would positively affect their image in this sometimes forgotten part of the country.

Neither Alicent nor his children had ever been to Winterfell before. Although his children were reluctant to leave Kings Landing, in the end they all went on this long journey. During their absence, the state was to be administered by Otto.

Aegon, Aemond and Helaena flew on their dragons. Neither of them wanted to be crammed in for more than a week of traveling in a cramped carriage or on horseback.

The king and queen were forced to take the land route. Viserys' condition deteriorated with his age, but despite Alicent's pleas, they did not turn back. Viserys knew it would be a huge slander for Winterfell, they must have been preparing for this visit for months.

When they finally arrived, the dragons made a great impression on the inhabitants, causing some to panic. The biggest was Vhagar's, landing in the great snowy wasteland far from the castle, so she posed no threat. She was visible from many meters.

When they entered Winterfell, already on horseback, the entire welcoming committee was waiting for them, including Lord Rickon Stark and his wife, Lady Lyanna Arryn. Lord Stark knelt before Viserys, as did all his family, paying him homage.

"My king. It's an honor." He said in a serious, calm tone. Viserys smiled gracefully, doing his best to hide the fatigue of his journey, and stretched out his hands to him, wanting to hug him like a brother. Lord Stark seemed embarrassed for a moment, but he got up from his knees and embraced the king, the crowd around started cheering.

After a short rest and changing clothes, everyone gathered in the great hall of the castle. In its center stood a large wooden table, arranged perpendicularly to the 6 other tables below, intended for other lords and less important guests. Lord Stark has prepared a lavish feast for the king with music and dancing.

Aemond was one of the last to enter the room, sitting on the edge of the table next to his sister, Helaena. Next to her sat Aegon, then Alicent and the king, next to him Lord Stark, his wife and their eldest son, Cregan. The seat next to Cregan was empty.

Although Aemond was initially discouraged by the expedition itself and the change of environment, he found Winterfell a gray but interesting place. The fields and forests filled with snow in the sun looked beautiful and clean, almost fairy-tale, at least compared to some streets of Kings Landing, where sewage simply flowed.

After a while, a girl came in from the other end of the room. Aemond saw her long, slightly wavy black hair out of the corner of his eye.

They weren't combed in any hairstyle, they were just thrown over her shoulders, which were bare because her dress seemed to be made so that it barely held on, creating a boat neckline that showed nothing more than she wanted. The dress was a dull soft blue that rustled as she walked. It accentuated her bright, glowing eyes. She was grinning at Cregan Stark, and Aemond thought, seeing her eyes, that she was his wife.

Indeed, she took a seat next to him. Cregan took her hand and kissed it, she laughed heartily at something he said. Lady Lyanna bent over her, questioning her with a frown - she obviously resented her being late. The girl explained something to her quickly, Cregan just laughed under his breath, and Lady Stark stepped back, smiling slightly herself. Apparently, her explanation did something.

Aemond looked away, deciding that it wasn't right to look at someone's wife like that. He exchanged a few words with Helaena, but looking at her he couldn't stop his eye from darting back to the girl sitting next to Cregan Stark.

She was talking to him lively, didn't seem to notice them at all, and didn't seem to care that the king and queen were sitting next to her. Her face was bright, warm and happy, she looked like it was the happiest day of her life.

They seemed to get along perfectly well. Aemond thought about Helaena's soon to marry Aegon, and his throat tightened. He genuinely felt sorry for her, but he couldn't help her.

Suddenly the music started. Cregan immediately extended his hand to the girl he was talking to, who gladly accepted it. They both got up and wanted to head downstairs to the dance floor, but Lord Stark's voice stopped them.

"Merciful king, I haven't had time to introduce my daughter to you yet." He said, pointing to the girl, who looked surprised at her father and became ashamed as if she suddenly realized who she was facing. "Y/N Stark."

The young Lady Stark bowed with dignity, closing her eyes. Viserys and Alicent looked at her kindly.

"What a winter beauty." Alicent said, sincerity in her voice. "I congratulate you, Lord Stark, on such a reason to be happy."

The girl blushed at her remark, pursed her lips in embarrassment. Only now could Aemond hear the sound of her voice.

"Thank you for those kind words, my queen." She spoke warmly, her voice lively, gentle and calm, full of energy. Aemond shivered for some reason. He felt his heart pounding as he looked at her. She, to his frustration, didn't turn a single glance in their direction. She merely turned to her brother and followed him down the few steps to dance.

Aemond wasn't used to situations like this. Usually, ladies, even if they feared him, knowing that he was a prince, paid him a lot of attention - which most often bothered him and which he avoided. His father planned for him to marry one of Borros Baratheon's daughters.

He had visited Storms End several times with his father, and recalled it as an ordeal. Each of his daughters was vying for his attention, but they were trying to pretend they weren't. They accidentally bumped into him during training or on walks while he was reading, so he would retreat to his chamber, tired and discouraged.

Nothing was official yet, but he knew that sooner or later he would have to choose one of them. He was furious with himself that his attention was drawn to a woman who didn't even give him a single look. He couldn't help but watch her dance, his fingers tapping gently on the table. They were talking about something with Cregan, self-absorbed, laughing. There was a slenderness and grace in their movements that he lacked in dancing.

Suddenly Cregan leaned over her and whispered something in her ear, and she turned to look at Aemond with puzzled eyes. Aemond immediately looked away to the other side of the room, his heart pounding, feeling like a fool caught red-handed stealing. He wanted to burn himself with shame. He pursed his lips and decided not to look at her again.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw various lords of the north come up to her, asking her to dance one by one, and she politely agreed. He tried not to look at her, but he saw that she spoke to everyone gently and with a smile, not exceeding the limits of decency. He was mad for some reason. He thought he had drunk too much wine.

Cregan Stark approached Helaena and asked her to dance. His sister accepted the offer with a smile. Aemond saw Aegon get to his feet and, encouraged, moved toward the young Lady Stark. She looked at him, surprised, and smiled when he offered her a dance. Aemond's jaw clenched at the sight.

To his surprise, in front of his father and mother, Aegon at least pretended to be able to behave. Aemond watched tensely to make sure his hand didn't go too low. He would whisper something in her ear sometimes, and she would turn her head away in embarrassment mixed with amusement, but she didn't seem discouraged and looked at him kindly. On one of the turns, he saw her look at him again, this time with curiosity, and he looked away again, burned. Compared to Aegon, he always felt deficient.

Although his mind was more receptive, full of knowledge, enthusiasm, humility, his body was more efficient in combat, he knew that first impressions count. Aegon, when he wasn't lying in his own vomit between the whore's legs, could pass for a very handsome, interesting man.

It was very easy for him to talk to the ladies, to make contact with them, to flirt with them, which Aemond couldn't. Even though he had a lot to say, he couldn't put it into words.

The dance ended and Y/N and Cregan returned to their seats. Out of the corner of his eye, Aemond saw her bare arms glistening with sweat and exertion, and felt the heat of his lower body. He felt remorse for thinking that way about a woman when his mother and sister were sitting next to him, and he only took a sip of wine, as if he wanted it to wash away all impure thoughts from him.

The rest of the feast passed peacefully, the guests slowly dispersed to their chambers. Y/N and Cregan soon said goodbye to everyone. Aemond's heart leaped as he saw that before she could get through the door, she turned toward him, her gaze bright and warm.

Aemond promised his mother that he would watch over Aegon. So he obediently stayed with him to the end, tearing him away from the kitchen wench and leading him to his chamber. He made him lie down on the bed, and after initially struggling, he gave in and fell asleep, snoring.

Aemond closed the door to his chamber and stepped out into the cloister, heading for his own room. He froze, seeing her figure slinking by with only a candle in his hand. She was already dressed in a long white nightgown, over it she had a white night robe tied at the waist. With her fair skin, dark hair and eyebrows and white robes, she looked like a ghost.

She looked around as she walked barefoot to see if anyone was seeing her, and when she saw him, her eyes widened in surprise. He wondered if she was on her way to see her lover. They stared at each other for a moment in silence. Aemond felt he had to speak to her, that if he didn't do it now, he never would.

"Should a lady go unattended alone at night in a castle?" He asked, there was an involuntary coldness and indifference in his voice, in which he tried to dress his words so as not to show how much his heart was pounding. To his surprise, Lady Stark smiled as if she was about to laugh.

"She's allowed if it's her castle." She said carefully. Aemond pursed his lips at her remark. She saw it and smiled even wider. "Will you accompany me, Prince Aemond?" She asked, a sudden shudder ran through his body. He felt the heat and tension in his lower body again, and he wondered what she was implying. She didn't let him think too long.

“I heard you love philosophy and history. You may be interested in the crypts of my ancestors. I was just on my way to pay my respects to my grandmother. Today is also her name day." She said embarrassed, as if she felt that what came out of her mouth earlier could sound very ambiguous.

Aemond swallowed softly, feeling relieved and disappointed at the same time. He just nodded his head, letting out only a quiet grunt of approval. He would went to see anything with her, as long as he could look at her up close.

Lady Stark led him down the stairs to the underworld. Her candle was the only source of light. He wondered if she was cold, but she didn't seem that way. She moved through the dark corridors with remarkable ease. They passed sculptures of her ancestors, staring at them solemnly and menacingly, the shadows on their faces disturbing.

Finally, they stopped in front of a statue of a pretty woman holding flowers in her hand. Y/N lit other candles from her candle, standing at the feet of the sculpture, the corridor slowly began to be flooded with their light. Aemond stared heart pounding at her profile.

He wondered how she could trust him so easily. Go underground with a strange man, where no one would hear her cries for help. If she had come down here with Aegon, she would have been lost by now. He himself was battling some wild, alien desire that now possessed his body.

He was completely bewildered, always able to control himself perfectly, also when it came to his sexuality. After an adventure at the age of 13 in a brothel served to him by his brother, such matters did not attract him much attention. Now, looking at her, he felt hunger.

"Is it wise to go down to the crypts with a strange man, at night?" He finally asked impassively, looking at her tensely. She looked at him surprised, as if she didn't even consider the possibility that anything could happen to her. She smiled calmly.

"I didn't come down here with your brother, so I guess I'll be fine, my prince." She spoke calmly, though her voice trembled slightly. Aemond's pupil dilated in shock. She had to watch Aegon at the banquet and see how closely he spoke to the servants.

Aemond swallows silently, looking away. They stood in silence for a moment. He could smell her scent in his nose. A mix of lavender, flowers and herbs. He felt like his head was spinning and that he should go back upstairs because the tension in his pants was unbearable.

"You never dance, my prince?" She asked suddenly, looking pensively at the figure of her grandmother. Aemond looked at her in surprise. His eye traveled down her body, he saw the faint outline of her breasts and thighs. He swallowed, feeling his heart pounding.

"Never." He said indifferently. He didn't know what else to add. "I can dance, but I don't enjoy it." He finally exhaled.

Y/N looked at him surprised and smiled understandingly. She nodded, looking down at her legs. Aemond pursed his lips. He thought he couldn't stand it.

His hand involuntarily reached for her soft cheek, grabbing it. She gasped at his touch, jumped in surprise, and looked at him with wide eyes. The words stuck in her throat as he turned her face towards him and stepped closer to her. He pressed her forehead against his, they could feel each other's breath on each other, breathing raggedly, loudly.

He didn't hold her roughly, he wanted to give her the feeling that she could pull away at any moment and run from him. She looked stunned for a moment, her eyes expressing terror, uncertainty and something he couldn't describe. They looked at each other in silence.

He felt a huge shiver run through his body as her hand touched his scarred cheek. They both took a deep breath. He wondered what they were even doing, what his mother would think if she saw him. But he couldn't think about it anymore. He had been frustrated throughout the feast, watching her dance and touch every man but him.

He leaned over her and pressed his lips greedily against hers, and she moaned softly in surprise. He kissed her lustfully, and after a moment, to his delight, she opened her mouth, allowing him to caress her. He moaned low as she started kissing back, her hand tangling in his hair.

He thought they must be crazy, that the wine had gone too far into their heads, but he couldn't tear himself away from her. He held her in an iron grip, the wet sounds of their mouths echoing down the hall, pausing sometimes for a moment to catch their breath, but neither of them could really stop, they continued kissing, moaning into each other's mouths. He held her close but kept his distance so she wouldn't feel what was going on in his pants. He didn't want her to think he was trying to take her by force now. He wouldn't be able to refuse her, if she offered it.

They finally broke apart, as if remembering who they were, where they were, and what they were doing. An expression of uncertainty and embarrassment crossed their faces, and they took a few steps away from each other, terrified. Aemond thought she could hear his heart pounding. He had never felt so much desire before. He prayed to the Seven to give him the strength to turn around, climb the stairs, and not touch her.

"Forgive me, my Lady. I didn't mean to scare or embarrass you. Let me go to my chambers." He said, and with the last of his willpower he turned away, heading for the stairs, leaving her in the candlelight.

_____

Between the first and second part of my regular series, I also started writing something else, in the subject of HOTD. I'm curious what you think and if you'd like a little mini-series out of this! If you want to be tagged in the next parts, let me know. ~

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jimblejamblewritings · 2 years

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snow falls hot | part 1.

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

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

Pairing: robb stark x reader

Word Count: 5k

(Series Masterlist)

“Lady Stark, your son is—”

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

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

“(Y/N)?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure? I don’t hav—”

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

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

“Mine.”

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

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

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

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

“Godswood, let’s go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Her place is in Winterfell.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think you flatter me Lady Snow.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are they?”

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

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

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

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

You shrugged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will try not to.”

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

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

“What is it?”

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

“What is—”

“Promise me, Jon.”

“I promise.”

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

“Thank you for the rock?”

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

“And you have the other?”

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

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

“Us bastards have to stick together.”

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

“Goodbye, Lord Snow.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was hoping no one would notice.”

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

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

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

“The only family I know is up here.”

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

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

“What is wrong with comfort?”

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

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

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

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

“You could try to hide your disgust.”

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

“What is that?” Jaime asked.

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

“A stone of a dragon’s egg…”

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

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

“What exactly are you doing?”

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

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

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

“Lady Snow?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me?”

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

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

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

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

“And what about Lord Stark now?”

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

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

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

“I’ll consider it.”

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

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

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

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

“Where’s the wolf?” Cersei asked.

“Ran off.”

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

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

“The one behind your sister.”

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

“Her wolf has been with us all day.”

“You’ve been with Lady Snow all day?”

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

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

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

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

(Part 2)...

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

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