#robbstarkxreader

[thenoblehouseofdayne]

Daughter Dearest 5 {Robb Stark x Bolton!Reader}

Series Masterlist Here!

{Warnings: mentions of mental illness, mentions of manipulative behavior, argument, some language.}

{Sorry for the long wait! I’ve been darting around on vacation for a few weeks, and haven’t had time to settle and write. To make up for it, here’s a lengthy Robb sequel! Kisses, TNHOD.}

Tensions were high inside the Stark encampment. It seemed that the men had forgotten that there was a war to be fought outside the village of tents, and were content to argue and dispute amongst themselves. Robb was the King of the North, but he was also your husband, and he was visibly worried for your safety at all hours. Ramsay, your half brother, was having a grand time being a pain in the ass, making comments about Robb’s feminine approach to ruling and his gentle touch. Roose was staying out of the argument all together, and had more than once suggested you do the same. 

You didn’t care, Ramsay could choke and you’d dance on his grave. He was a dirty rotten bastard, and he caused nothing but trouble. It was only a matter of time before he said the wrong thing, and your ruse would be through. 

That was another matter entirely. Was it a ruse? It had to be-- you were insistent on the fact. You didn’t love Robb, he was a means to an end, a position for your father, and a safe bed for the rest of your life. He could’ve been old or cruel or ugly, but the Gods had seen fit to give you the perfect husband. He wasn’t perfect for you, but he was perfect. 

Robb was pouring over maps, trying to find the perfect ground on which to engage the Lannister army. And more so, where he could hide you during the bloodshed. He was the King in the North, and he didn’t have to bend to the Boltons and their archaic customs. The bastard unsettled him, but he said nothing of it, other than a few snide comments to you in the privacy of your bedroom. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you are more interested in those maps than the men who made them,” you quipped from the bed, resting your chin on your elbows, observing his admirable ass with a half-smile. 

“I’m sure,” he replied dismissively, though a smile came to his face at the sound of your voice. He was deep in thought, scratching the comings-in of a beard that he hadn’t had the time or luxury to remove. “It’s late. You’re usually asleep by now,” there was an edge of concern in his voice, but he didn’t chide you. 

“You’re usually asleep by now,” you returned, pulling the heavy furs closer around your shoulders to shield you from the cold. “And I can’t sleep when I can feel the tension radiating off of you like heat waves,” you complained, lifting the edge of the blanket and offering an enticing smile, hoping to coax him to your side. “You need to rest-- or you’ll fall asleep with your sword in hand.” 

It was an amusing image, and it conjured a matching smile at his lips. Sighing, he extinguished the pair of candles on his desk, and began to shrug off the heavy layers of clothing that adorned him during the day. There was no grace or seduction to the movements, but they were done hastily, to close the distance between himself and you. 

Finally, he slipped beneath the offered sheet, and wrangled you closer to him, effortlessly sliding his arms around your waist. He stilled soon after that, his nose buried in your hair, breathing evening out as he allowed the tension to slide out of his shoulders. “Can I ask you something?” He murmured, almost lost in the sound of the wind howling outside. 

You nodded, fingers carving soft grooves in the plains of his chest. 

“That first night, after we...” he paused to allow you to fill in the blank, “you swore that you would never love me. You wouldn’t touch me. Called yourself my prisoner. What changed? You went from feral to docile practically overnight, and I just--” he sighed, “I don’t understand.” 

You felt like he’d just dropped a massive weight on your chest, and squeezed all the breath out of your lungs. You’d thought you’d been so careful... “I--” your mind reeled for a way to rectify the situation. “I don’t know.” You answered honestly, fidgeting in his arms so you could turn to face him, and see those hauntingly beautiful eyes. “My father used to love my mother, more than anything in the world. He was stiff, but he was happy. When she got sick, and when she started to lose her mind...” you hesitated. “I watched him fall out of love with her. Secluded her away to a tower, a few servants to care for her, and told me never to visit. Said it would only hurt more when we left.” You couldn’t look away from his eyes, from the pity in them, and the adoration that still lingered. “I didn’t want to marry you. I never wanted to marry. I didn’t want to be her, loving a man who would end up confining me to a little room to rot.” 

“You don’t have to--” his voice was softer now as he tried to pull you back to his chest, “I am never going to be your father, Y/N,” he insisted, metal in his voice. 

“You’re so lovely,” you continued, ignoring the sympathy in his tone. “And soft and sweet, and you want so badly to believe in love... and I took advantage of that.” It felt like a cool rush of relief to admit to the guilt that had been weighing on your conscious. “My father was worried that you would lose fondness for me, so I embellished a little-- just to give me time to truly grow fond of you.” 

He was very still.

“Robb?” You asked, wiggling in his arms to catch a look at his face. “No, that’s not what I meant!” You insisted, once you saw the hurt and color draining from his face. “I do love you, there was just a moment when--”

“That first time,” he asked quietly, “when you told me you loved me, that was him?” He didn’t release you, his eyes searching your face for truth. “Your father?” 

You were speechless, heart aching as you realized what jeopardy speaking the truth had landed you in. “He didn’t--”

Robb unwound from you at once, scrambling away from you like you’d burned him. “And when we made love, was he pulling the strings? The puppeteer, feeding you venom to spit back in my face?” He was indignant, snarling, hurting. “I loved you!” He spat, not even bothering to don clothes as he retreated to the far side of the tent. “You knew how much I loved you-- and you lied to me!”

“I do love you, Robb, please!” You pleaded, curling up on the edge of the bed, and watching his expression twist in disgust. 

“How do I know this isn’t another trick?” He demanded, cheeks flushing red with anger. “That these aren’t your father’s words leaving your lips?”

You opened your lips to respond, but saw the far tent-flap peek open, and a grinning Ramsay peer inside, seemingly close enough to have overheard the obvious spat. 

“My King,” his voice was oozing with smug pride at having caught his rival in a compromising position, “is everything alright?”

Robb, a fire burning in his chest and his heart-shattered into more pieces than he could count, looked to you. His love, the sweet woman that he had grown to adore-- tears shining in her eyes as she begged for him to forgive her... and he couldn’t hate her. He wanted to, Gods did he want to hate her, cast her out and remove the thought of her from his mind. But he couldn’t. Your brother, however... “everything’s fine,” he insisted, his voice low and testing. “We were having a disagreement.” 

“I’m sure half the encampment knows at this point,” he entered the tent without invitation, his eyes sweeping over to you and taking a look of lechery at your disheveled state. “Is there anything I could do to ease this?”

Robb’s jaw twitched, watching your half-brother ogle over you with shameless lust. He hated Ramsay. Without a word, he stepped forward, a fist curling at his side, and a cruel look in his eyes. “Yeah, actually,” his movements were sharp and predatory, “eat shit.” And Robb’s fist collided with his jaw in a brutal cracking motion. 

[yougottalovegameofthrones]

Almost Home Pt. 8 (Robb Stark x Reader)

A/N: Ooof. The ending is kinda shitty. But this one was an interesting one to write. XD. I’m hoping to update much sooner than I did with this one after Part 7, but we’ll see how school goes. I have the basic outline all ready,so all I have to do is write it out. :) Anyway, hope you enjoy!

-----

Rest did not fall easily on me that night.

Despite being held close in Robb’s warm embrace as the hours of night faded away, the intensity of my fear of us being together made sleep an impossible reality. Instead of letting my eyes rest, even for a minute, I stared up into the ceiling praying that we would not have to get up from this bed and encounter the monster that waited before us: Catelyn Stark.

I could not even begin to imagine how awful today would be. The bitter resentment that would last between mother and son after this conversation would not be easily forgotten, and it was all because of me.  Everything wrong… was because of me.

The bed frame moved slightly as Robb began to stir, and I closed my eyes, hoping he didn’t notice that I was awake. But the soft touch of his hand on my waist attempting to pull me closer and the nuzzling of his face in the crook of my neck signified otherwise. “How long have you been awake?”

“Not too long.” I lied quietly, smiling as I felt his lips press gently against the skin of my neck before moving to press against mine. His Tully blue eyes gazed into mine for several moments, before he spoke again.

“You were restless the whole night.” Robb’s hand moved from my waist to cup my face gently. “I could feel it. What troubles you?”

“I think you know.” I whispered, the lump in my throat preventing the words leaving me lips any louder than they had. His eyes flashed with understanding and he sighed gently.

“You have nothing to fear anymore.”

“What if she sent out the letter?” I could feel myself beginning to tremble, and I bit my lip to hold back my tears.  “I am as good as dead. I-“

“Do not repeat those words ever again.” Robb’s voice was a gentle, but stern murmur as he gazed down at me.  “Remember what I promised you last night? I won’t let anyone take you away.”

“What if its out of your control?”  My eyelids fluttered shut as his scruff gently brushed against my face as his lips touched my forehead.

“I will do anything in my power to make sure that it will always be in my control.”  I opened my eyes to find his eyes locked on me, soft but serious at the same time. “I can’t afford to lose anymore people that I love. I couldn’t save my father, but I most definitely will keep my family, and especially you, safe and sound. And that is a promise.”

“I know you will, Robb Stark.” I whispered, my eyes watery with tears before leaning in to kiss him once more.  Before another word could be spoken, a harsh knock broke the two of us apart.

My heartbeat began to pick up, my mouth going dry and my hands starting to tremble once more. Robb kissed my forehead once more reassuringly before standing up and dressing in a appropriate manner before opening the door, to find no other than Catelyn Stark standing before us.

Her eyes immediately found mine, but to my surprise, I couldn’t find much anger or shock in her gaze. She pushed past Robb into the room, shutting the door behind her. I sat in the bed anxiously, my fingers clenching the bed sheets as I waited for her to speak.

“I can’t say I’m that surprised to see you here.” Catelyn’s voice was clipped, but calm, slight disgust on her face.  “I am just disappointed… especially in you, Robb.”

“That’s enough, Mother.” Robb interjected, his tone also calm but stern as well. “You cannot control her anymore.”

“Excuse me?”

“Y/N tells me of the letter you wrote to her family, telling that she ran to avoid marrying the other Lord  and found refuge here. The death sentence that you have used as motivation for her to follow your order to stay away from me.”

A slight smile cracked at the corners of her lips as she stared at me, and I couldn’t help but tense as she walked towards the bed before stopping to stand a few feet away from me.

“Is that she told you?” I shuddered at the sweetness in her voice, a thin veil over the venomous words that she really wanted to say. “I did not write such letter.”

“Are you accusing her of lying?”

“Are you accusing me of lying? Your own mother?”

“Y/N would not lie about something this serious!” Robb scoffed, moving to stand between his mother and myself.  “Tell me, and do not lie to your King: Did you write this letter?”

The room was silent for a moment, before Catelyn sighed and spoke once more. “It was precaution that was much needed, Robb. You cannot marry her, no matter how attached your feelings are for her.”

“But  somehow it is your right to toss her life away like it is nothing?” Robb’s body was beginning to tremble and I could sense how angry he was. “Where is the letter now, mother?”

For the first time in the months I had resided amongst House Stark, I witnessed fear and hesitation in Lady Stark’s eyes.  And that was all it took for Robb to know the answer to his question.

“You didn’t.” His voice was bleak with disbelief and fury, and I stood to grab his arm to prevent him from moving closer to his mother. Robb shook his head before continuing. “When did you send the rider?”

“Robb, I did what was-“

“I said, When did you send the rider?” Robb nearly snarled, frightening both myself and his mother. I had never seen him so angry before, and apparently based on her reaction, neither did Catelyn.

“Late last night.”

“Oh no…”  My grip on his arm relaxed, as my body slowly melted back towards the bed, my eyes focused on the floor as my control slowly evaporated. My heart was thudding rapidly, my throat closing up  and eyes watering as I realized the reality of what was happening. My family was coming for me, or rather…. Ser Larris Smallwood. And I terrified of what he would do to me the moment he lay eyes on me again.

“Mother…” Robb shook his head slowly as he looked at Catelyn. “Since your actions these past few months have been extremely inappropriate and unpredictable, you are to remain in your bedroom at all times until I see fit. And to make sure you do so, I will be posting one of my guards at your door. “

“Robb…”

“I mean it, Mother.” His eyes were hard and his tone dark. “You have put Y/N’s life in danger by sending that letter, and you knew that. Until I know you can be trusted again, that is where you will stay.  And now, I think it would be best if you would leave.”

With no more words to say, Catelyn Stark opened the door and left the room, the door shutting rather loudly on the way out. I closed my eyes as I heard Robb walk closer to where I sat, before kneeling down in front of me. Warm hands touched my own, causing my eyes to flash up to his own. His expression nearly caused me to burst into tears, which were only a few seconds away from appearing. Robb squeezed my hands gently before speaking. “You know that I truly meant what I told you earlier, right?”

“About keeping me safe?” I whispered, the highest volume I could speak without my tears spilling uncontrollably.

“Yes.”  One of his hands moved to cup my face gently, and I leaned into his touch. “He won’t lay one single finger on you. And if he does, he will have to face me.”

I nodded slowly, before a tear trickled down my cheek, which were soon followed by more. I quickly ducked my head to hide them, but his finger tilted my chin up, keeping our eyes connected.

“You don’t have to hide from me.” Robb whispered softly, and wiped away the tears as they fell. “Not anymore.”

“I know.” I sniffled, before leaning in and pressing my lips against his gently. Our lips moved in sync for a few brief moments before he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him. My arms wove around his neck, and for the next few moments, we remained still.

Little did we know, that it would be one of the last moments of peace that we would have in a long time.

[yougottalovegameofthrones]

Almost Home Pt. 7 (Robb Stark x Reader)

A/N: Wowza, this one ended up being longer than I thought! But it’s pretty angsty, so get ready. XD  Thanks for reading!

-M <3

----

I never knew how much love could hurt, until it finally did.  Every morning and every night that past following that dreadful encounter were bitter and painful. I could only wish that I had the sanctuary that I found in sleep.

At first, it seemed that Robb Stark felt the same pain as I did.  We saw each other nearly every day, and whenever our eyes met, the sense of loss lingered between us. His lips parted to speak, but I always found an excuse to leave before the words could be heard. My heart always told me to go back… go back to him and apologize for rejecting him so harshly a few weeks previous. 
But I didn’t.

In nearly every moment except for when I was in my chambers, I knew that Catelyn Stark was watching, whether if it was through her own eyes or through one of the many people working around Robb and I.

If we were to be caught together again… my life would be over. And although my life was not much at this moment in time, I couldn’t bear the thought of losing it to… that ogre, Ser Larris Smallwood.  Who knew what he would do to me before he ended it all?

With the potential dangers that came with even talking to Robb, I couldn’t risk it. And as much as my heart hurt for watching his face fall every time I said I had to leave,  it was for the best. He would find happiness again… in someone who truly deserved it.

“Y/N, once you finish starting the bath, would you please come join me out here?” Catelyn Stark called from her perch on the balcony, her voice almost humorous as the words left her lips.

“Yes, my Lady.”  I finished what she required before walking to stand by her side. “What is it?”

“I want you to look down there, and tell me what you see.”

My eyes followed her extended hand, and my heart began to ache at the sight of Robb down bellow, laughing with a group of men. “My Lady, I thought you didn’t want-“

“I asked you to look.” Her tone was more clipped. “Look again.” 
When my eyes fell back to the group of men bellow, I noticed that a maiden was now amongst them. Her hair was long and tied back into a braid, her dress covering her body modestly, and the charming smile on her face drawing all of the men in… and from the looks of it, she seemed to be catching Robb’s attention as well.

If my heart had been hurting before, it was nothing compared to how it was feeling now. Shattered, crushed, split in two. A lump grew in my throat as I watched the woman approach Robb and begin to speak with him, her hand moving to rest on his arm before slowly moving up to his chest.

“Her name is Lady Lylian Wythers.” Catelyn Stark’s voice commented quietly, but contently. “I have a feeling that she will make my son very happy.”

My body frozen in place, unable to move as I watched Lady Lylian draw closer to Robb, eventually leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips.  My head began to spin, my eyes growing blurry with tears that I so desperately wanted to shed, and my hands began to shake.

After a few moments, Robb pulled away from the kiss and looked up towards where Catelyn and I stood. His face went slightly pale and he began to move towards where we were, but his mother grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back into the confines of her room.

“He may of thought that he found his happiness in you…” She whispered in my ear, her grip on my arm tightening. “But it turns out that any young woman can make a King happy.” She let me go. “Off to bed.”

I slipped out of her room and walked down the hall, praying to the Gods that I would not encounter Robb Stark in the way. Another hand grasped onto my arm and pulled me to the side, causing me to gasp. I came face to face with none other than the King of the North.

“What is it with you Starks about pulling people around by their limbs?” I snapped, yanking myself free from his grip.

“Y/N….” His voice was soft, as if he was afraid to break me with his words.

“What?!” At that point, the idea that I was talking to the King of the North did not matter. I was angry. No, I was beyond angry. I was devastated, and it would take more than a few kisses and gentle words to heal this wound.

“I didn’t know you were there.” Robb’s eyes were lit with remorse, and I had to restrain myself from feeling sympathy for him at this moment.

“So you would’ve kissed her if I wasn’t there, then?”

“I didn’t want-“

“Do not give me that load of bullshit, Robb Stark.” Judging by the surprised expression on his face, I don’t think he knew I had the confidence to say that sentence to his face. “You seemed perfectly content with having a pretty young Lady kissing you.”

“I don’t want her!” His voice was exasperated, and I rolled my eyes.

“Who do you want then, Robb? Or what, to be more exact? If it’s pleasure you want, I’m sure there are plenty of young women who would love to visit you in your chambers.”

For a split second, anger crossed his face.. But after a moment of hesitation, he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards his chambers, despite my protest. Once the door closed behind us,Robb turned around and pulled me into his embrace, pressing his lips against mine eagerly.

Without even thinking, I found myself kissing him back and the sound of satisfaction that Robb made had me wanting this moment to last forever. But after a few moments, he pulled away, his eyes gazing down at me wearily. “Does that give you your answer?”

“I don’t deserve you.” I shake my head sadly, and his eyes grow hard.

“Has my mother been telling you that again? Is that what she said to you the night that you ran from me?”

“And other things.” My eyes fall to the floor, but his fingers tipped my chin up, forcing me to look up at him.

“What other things?” Robb’s voice was gentle, and I felt the wall I built up around myself slowly begin to crumble.

“She wrote a letter to my family, telling them that I abandoned them because I didn’t want to marry, and of my location. Your mother said if I continued to be with you, that the letter would be sent out immediately, and my fate would rest in the hands of…” I shivered slightly. “My husband.”

It was silent for a few moments, and I looked back up at Robb. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were ablaze with anger. My hands moved to cup his face and his eyes met mine again. “You cannot tell confront her about this.”

“Why not?” His tone was filled with disbelief.

“She will still send out the letter. I’m sure she made plenty of other copies in the incident that you found out.”

“Even if she is my own mother…” His fingers brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “I cannot stand for her to use her power to mistreat people that way. If she sends the letter, I will not let that man take you away. I’m the King of the North.”

“I don’t think this man will play fairly.” I whispered quietly. “He might come when we aren’t ready. Maybe even in the middle of night.”

“That’s why I need to confront my mother, and that is why you will be staying in here with me from now on.”

“But-“

“No buts.” Robb shook his head gently. “Your safety is not something to argue about. And at this rate, my mother will eventually find out again about us. I’d rather know you are safe than risk it by sending you back to your chambers.”

I let out a small sigh, and nodded. “Okay.”

“I’m glad you didn’t try to argue with me this time. “ A small smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “It would’ve been a much lengthier conversation if you had.”

“I’d rather not argue with you anymore. It’s a rather nasty affair.”

“I agree.” Robb leaned down and kissed me gently before adding, “I’ll talk to my mother in the morning. For now, I think we should get some rest. “

—-

The old man  had watched from afar as Robb stopped the handmaiden down the hall, his voice hushed but desperate. Eventually, the King of the North had taken her back to his chambers, and that led the old man towards Lady Stark’s chambers.

“My Lady… I have news.”

“I hope it’s good. I was just getting into bed.” Catelyn Starks voice was irritated as she approached the door to find the man standing there. “What is it?”

“Your son took your handmaiden back to his chambers. They were fairly quiet in their conversations, but I don’t think it’s good, My Lady.”

Catelyn Stark retreated silently back into her room, grabbing the addressed letter off of her table before turning back to the old man at the door. “Give this to the fastest rider, and get him on his horse, now. I want that letter delivered before sunrise.”

“Yes, my Lady.” The man nodded before disappearing into the darkness of the hallway. Catelyn shut the doors, shaking her head with a smile as she walked back towards the bed. She had given that young girl a chance to make a life her. But she had made one too many mistakes, and for that… she would have to pay the price.

[thenoblehouseofdayne]

Daughter Dearest Series Masterlist {Robb Stark x Bolton!Reader}

Neither of you wanted this marriage- but in times of war, sometimes it was easier to pretend to love someone than it was to fight back.

Not Completed

Part One Here!

Part Two Here!

Part Three Here!

Part Four Here!

Part Five Here!

[yougottalovegameofthrones]

Almost Home Pt. 6 (Robb Stark x Reader)

A/N: Hey y’all! Sorry for the big gap in updates. Had lots going on. But here ya go, Pt. 6. :) And I apologize for the ending. It’s a bit choppy.

---

It was another late evening, but instead of being curled up underneath the blankets in my room,  I was being lead to the middle of the small square. With everyone asleep and out of sight, Winterfell felt almost deserted.

“Don’t you think its risky?” I sighed as I let Robb pull me gently outside, insisting that I should learn how to shoot a bow. “It’s not like we’re in the woods.”

“You are telling me that you would rather sneak out into the woods, in the middle of the night, not knowing what could be out there?” He raised an eyebrow, and I rolled my eyes.

“No, I am not.”

“Then hush. I promise you that this will be fine.”  His lips touched my cheek gently before he pulled away to find the bow and few arrows we needed for our lesson. “Besides, you’re with the King of the North. What do you have to fear?”

“Your mother, for one.”  The words left my lips before I could stop them, and I watched Robb’s face drop. He wasn’t angry, but he definitely wasn’t happy at my words.

“Y/N…”

“Is there any point ignoring the truth?.” I sighed and turned, walking closer towards the target. “She clearly does not care for me, and would rather I was gone, in one way or another.”

A warm pair of arms wrapped around my waist, before gently turning me around. Robb Stark’s Tully blue eyes gazed down at me gently, filled with a mixture of sadness and love. “But I don’t want you gone, not now and not ever. Isn’t that enough?”

“Always.” I smiled gently, and brushed my hand against his cheek, my smile growing as he leaned his face into my palm. “Now, and forever.”

“Good.”  His curls tickled my face as he leaned into kiss me, and I giggled slightly as his lips brushed against mine. He pulled away a moment later, frowning slightly. “What?”

“Don’t you think it’s time to cut your hair?” My fingers moved to play with the now rather long strands of his hair. “I do love it, but isn’t a king supposed to look… more sophisticated?”

“Wow.” Amusement lit up his eyes as he shook his head slowly. “Way to put it gently, love.”

“I’m not trying to be mean, Your Grace.” I tucked a curl gently behind his ear, and gazed up at him. A humorous smirk lit up my face. “But I think it’s time you transitioned into the more sophisticated ideals of appearances.”

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” He scoffed, and I giggled as his fingers slightly tickled my sides.

“Just a little.” Managing to pull free from his gentle grip , I walked over to where he set down the bow and quiver of arrows. “Now, are you going to show me how to shoot this thing or what?” 

“I do not believe that such activities are meant for someone like you, Y/N.” My blood ran cold as the all too familiar voice of Catelyn Stark interrupted the joyous atmosphere. I turned around quickly to find her standing a mere ten feet away from us. Her eyes were cold and her expression hard, displeasure a word that could only begin to describe how she must have been feeling. 

“Lady Stark, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean-” 

“Didn’t mean to get caught?” A sneer formed on her face, and I could only stand there and listen, completely speechless. “I’m sure you didn’t.” 

“Mother, she was with me.” Robb’s voice was stern, and I turned to see his gaze focused on her. “I don’t see any reason why I couldn’t show-” 

“You may be the King of the North, but you do not get to associate yourself with people of the likes of her,  not in this way!” Catelyn stormed forward and snatched my arm in her grip, her fingers digging into my flesh. “She is not wor-”

“Do not finish that sentence!” I felt Robb’s hand clasped onto my other arm, leaving me stuck in-between the the two as they continued to bicker. “No matter how low you might place her, she will always be worthy to me.” 

"The moment that you find yourself wedding a woman like her will be the moment that you have lost the respect of your people... and of your family.” I was yanked away from Robb, but winced as I felt his grip tighten on my arm, keeping me in place.

“You are in no position to talk to your King in this way.” 

The air felt thick with tension, and I knew in a matter of seconds, the conversation would take a turn for the worst.  I pulled away harshly from Catelyn’s grip before turning to Robb. 

“Be calm,  my King.” I whispered softly, as my hands moved up his chest to cup his face. “It’s not worth an argument this late. It’s my fault we are even in this mess. Let’s leave our words for the morning, when we have calmed down and gotten some rest.” 

His lips parted to speak, but I leaned in to kiss him gently for a few moments, only to be yanked away again by his mother moments later. I let her lead me away, my eyes meeting Robbs as he watched helplessly from where he stood.  The moment we rounded the corner, out of sight from Robb, Catelyn stopped walking, causing me nearly to run into her. 

“You know, my dear...” Her voice was calm and almost sickly sweet as she released me arm. “I have something I need to show you. After that, you may take your rest for the evening.” 

“O-Okay.” I swallowed nervously as I followed her down the hall, my heart nearly in my throat  with each step I took. 

She opened her bedroom door and walked inside. “Come inside.” 

I did as she asked, and looked around the room hesitantly before my eyes fell to the floor. Catelyn Stark’s footsteps echoed across the cold floor for a moment before they stopped in front of me. 

“Child, look at me.” 

My eyes slowly left the floor and met hers. Her expression was unreadable, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips as she held a folded up piece of paper in her hands.  “I hope the brief, yet intense affair you had with my son was enough to get it out of your system.” 

“Get what out of my system?” 

“Your urges for things that don’t belong to you, and things that you do not deserve.” Catelyn’s voice grew icy and I tried to ignore the ping of hurt from her words. “You are not to see him anymore. His reputation is much more important than you, and I won’t let him destroy his rule because of a girl who was willing to share her body for one night to get his attention.” 

“I did not sleep with him!” I scoffed, and she simply rolled her eyes. 

“Silly girl, I am not blind. I saw you together and I saw him come into your room. It is in your best interest that you do not lie to me.”  Catelyn held up the piece of paper. My heart sank to the pit of my stomach as I saw who it was addressed to. “This letter explains what you have done and where you are. If you so much as look at Robb the wrong way, I will have this letter sent to your family quicker than you can apologize. And after that... your fate will rest with your family, or rather... your husband. Who knows what will happen then.” 

My mouth felt dry and my head began to spin slightly as I processed the words that left her lips.  

“Are you alright? You look rather pale.” 

“I’m fine.” I whispered, ignoring her taunting words. “May I go to bed?”

“As long as you stay there till morning.” She sighed, placing the letter on the table nearby. “I will see you bright and early to get started on chores.” 

“Yes, my Lady.” I nodded, before making my exit from the room.  The tears that I tried so hard to hide began to fall from my eyes only a matter of steps away from my chambers, and I had to stop in the middle of the hall to try to calm myself.  

A hand grasped my shoulder and my mouth open to scream, but a warm hand quickly covered my mouth. I looked up to find Robb standing in front of me, his eyes concerned as he took in my state. “What did she say to you?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” I mumbled, as I reached up to wipe away my tears. “Why are you here?” 

“I’m here because I care about you...” His voice was slightly hurt, and I wanted so badly to comfort him. “What did my mother say to you?” 

“Robb, you deserve better.” I sniffled and lifted my head to look at him. “And your mother thinks you do too.  So it’s not my place to stay when you could have someone so much better.” 

“What?” His voice was soft, and it made the tears all the harder to conceal. “There is no one else I want, but you.” 

“Robb-”

“There isn’t, and there never will be. Don’t you understand?”Robb’s hands moved to cup my face, and my heart fluttered as his lips grew closer to mine. “You are all I want and all I need.  And I do not care what my mother has to say about it, because I love you.” 

Before I could respond, his lips were pressed against mine, soothing away the brokenness inside of me and inviting me closer. After a moment of hesitation, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in closer. 

For a few moments....we stayed like this. Happy, perfectly content in the bliss of being together. But I knew that it couldn’t stay this way... not with his mother threatening everything I had left. 

I pulled away and gazed up at him through watery eyes. “I love you, my King... but I am not what you deserve.” 

I slipped out of his embrace and ran down the hall, away from his voice calling for me to stop. I opened my chamber doors and nearly slammed them shut as I made it back. If my heart had been broken before, it was nearly destroyed now. I slowly made my way to my bed and laid down, curling in a ball as sobs of sadness washed over me. 

Eventually, a restless sleep overcame me and I drifted into darkness... unsure of what the next morning and the rest of my life would bring. 

----

[thenoblehouseofdayne]

Daughter Dearest 4 {Robb Stark x Bolton!Reader}

Warnings: insensitive/incorrect discussion of mental illness

Series Masterlist Here!

The ride back to the encampment was pure agony. Between Ramsay’s baiting attempts at conversation and Roose’s cold dismissal, the snow was the most interesting thing for miles.

“I visited your mother,” Ramsay added casually, at the end of a story about a recent hunting trip. “She tried to claw my eyes out.” He was almost amused by the situation.

Both you and Roose cast him a glance- halfway daring him to continue with that train of thought.

“I meant no harm by it,” he justified, holding up his hands in mock-defense, “I just wanted to see if the old-bat remembered what I looked like.” He smiled. “She does- she says she wishes you visited more.”

You snarled, pulling your horse to a stop, aggression bubbling to cover rising guilt. “You say one more word about my mother-“

Roose interrupted as quickly as the fight began. “Stop arguing. We’re close to the encampment- there are prying ears here.” So easily could he dismiss the subject of your mother, without a care in the world.

You continued to sulk. No doubt he was here to cause trouble, and you planned to keep him at arm’s length for his entire visit here- and away from Robb, for that matter.

But it seemed that fate had been against you all day- as Robb waited for your arrival with a neutral expression, though his eyes brightened as you came into view.

Ramsay was quick to slide off his horse and approach his brother-in-law. He gave a crooked smile, extending a hand, “I thought you’d be taller.” He glanced over his shoulder at you. “I expected the King of the North to loom a little larger- has Y/N tamed you already?”

Robb’s own smile grew tighter and more severe. “I’m glad your travels were safe- one of the soldiers,” he lifted a finger to summon one effortlessly, “Will escort you to your tent. Y/N? A word?” His dismissal was cold and swift- and you found yourself hiding a smile as your brother’s face fell.

Roose glanced at you with warning, but said nothing as he attended to his second favorite child.

Robb pulled you across the camp and into a tent- laying a firm and fast kiss on your lips. “I realized I’d never said goodbye before you left- I could hardly focus while you were gone.” He teased, holding your cheek gently, thumb tracing the extent of your cheekbone. “I heard rumors about Ramsay, but-“ he exhaled lowly, lifting his brows ever so slightly. “He exceeds expectations.”

You nearly laughed again- but bit it back. It was good to see him, and good to grow friendlier with him, but you wouldn’t fool yourself into verbalizing your distaste of your half-brother. Comments turned to dissent, dissent to revolt, and the Bolton line was unsteady enough as it was. 

The two of you spent a few moments sharing idle conversation, and you found yourself beginning to enjoy the warmth in his eyes when he looked at you. It seemed that pretending to love him was easier as you grew to genuinely like him. He was a good man, but not suited for a Bolton.

“I hate to send you away again,” Robb began, his expression suddenly more serious. “But the Lannisters are making a move, and a battle will come soon- I need to send you to Winterfell with my Mother.” It was clear he’d been considering this for a while. A Queen was good for morale, but, in times of war, it would do no good to have her here.

“That would be a stupid thing to do,” Ramsay chimed in suddenly, his hand parting the tent-flap and peering inside. “I meant to wait until after you finished your gossip, but I couldn’t tolerate the insinuation that Y/N is some sort of weak-stomached maiden. Your Grace,” the title was dripping with sarcasm, “she’s a Bolton. A little blood won’t frighten her.”

Robb managed another forced smile. “Maybe we should discuss this with your father before I decide on your sister’s life,” he quipped back, his expression vexed at best.

Roose was quickly found and delivered, and listened for a moment, his expression unimpressed, glancing to his daughter before speaking. “I agree with Ramsay- hiding her won’t help, it’s better that she’s within reach, Winterfell’s already a target.”

Robb opened his mouth to protest, before glancing to you, and seeing your own indifference mirroring your father’s. He sighed, looking deflated.

It seemed you’d be staying after all.

[thenoblehouseofdayne]

Daughter Dearest 2 {Robb Stark x Bolton!Reader}

warnings: brief use of strong language

{As I was sifting through the mountain of requests that remain, I realized I’d hit a string of Robbs, so apologies if my blog seems a little Robb-centric as I finish up some older requests. The sequel to this has been long requested, so here it is!}

Part One Here!

The indifference between the King and Queen of the North was palatable, and uncomfortable for all other parties involved in their extended lover’s spat. He treated you as a token of your father’s loyalty, one that even his tender heart exploited. You publicly questioned his decisions and ability as a leader, which was equally as damaging to his reputation. 

The most recent example of this proverbial winter was a meeting of banner-men, during which, you were asked to leave, a first since your union months ago. 

You lifted a brow and glanced briefly towards the men watching your reaction, including your father, and back to Robb. “What are you doing?”

He barely looked up from his maps, his posture stiff and unflinching. “I asked you to leave, Y/N. You have no business in our military proceedings.”

You saw through his tough exterior in a moment. “You want me to wait with the other women outside the tent, do you? Want to flex your authority and treat me as a whore that you can order to your bidding?” You could feel your father wincing at your lack of etiquette as your voice rose in volume and the other conversations in the room halted suddenly. 

Robb took a breath, and steeled his resolve, attempting to weather through another of what he perceived to be tantrums. 

“Enjoy their respect, my King.” You turned on your heel and left the tent in an furious flourish, ignoring the sinking feeling of your boots in the half-frozen mud, finding the large tent that you shared with Robb and drawing a bath, asking one of the handmaidens to draw closed the flaps of the tent, and asking one of your father’s men to stand guard at the door, before submerging yourself into the near painfully hot water, watching ripples of steam rise into the chilly winter air.

Your muscles relaxed, and you eventually drew yourself back from a fever-pitch, pulling your knees to your chest and thinking on the time you’d spent here. You were miserable. Robb was miserable. Would it not be better for the North if you returned home, or even ran away? Robb could marry one of those pretty northern girls you’d seen him eyeing, and you could...

Your lip quivered, and you drew a shaking breath, before allowing the silent tears to spill down your cheeks, dripping down into the bath water as you allowed your pent up emotion to overcome you in one burst of anguish, homesickness, and jealousy. You wanted to go home.

You heard your father’s voice, snapping at the soldier to abandon his post, before he entered the tent, clearly upset. He took a look at you and sighed, pulling the flaps closed behind him again, and lowering his voice. “Gods sake, girl, control your tears, this isn’t the time to show weakness.”

It was the closest thing to affection he’d shown you in recent weeks, and slowly, you sniffled and wiped away your tears. “What did he say?”

“Nothing about you or your spectacle in there, did I raise a fool?”

“You didn’t raise me.” You snapped back, rebuilding the tough exterior you’d cultivated as Roose Bolton’s daughter.

He lifted a hand to silence you and continued. “It is in our interest to remain in the Starks favor, which will wither with each of your jabs. Can you not learn to love him?”

Your silence was indignant.

He reached down to grip your chin and hold it firmly, meeting your eyes with his own calculating and cold ones, allowing you to wriggle in discomfort for a second before he spoke. “Learn to, or learn to pretend.”

He was gone just as quickly, leaving you in a once comfortable bath that had long since run cold. You decided. If you could not conjure love on your own, you’d be better off pretending, if only to preserve your standing in his life. 

Robb did not return for two hours more, still wading through his duties and nursing his pride, dragging his feet on the way back. But, he entered your chambers none the less, finding you brushing through your long dark hair, dressed in nightclothes. “It’s the middle of the day.”

“I was feeling ill. As you have little need of me, I figured I’d be better off spending the day in bed and waiting for you to return.”

He sighed, leaning in the doorway to give you a long hard stare. “How long will you torment me? Can we not be civil?”

You glanced over your shoulder. “Why didn’t you want me in the Small Council meeting this morning? Have I not proven useful enough to sit by your side?” You allowed vulnerability to slip into your tone, as facetious as it was.

His expression broke as he thought that he’d finally made a grand discovery in your behavior. “I was tired of the fighting, was all. I needed a morning where you commended my decisions, not questioned them. I didn’t realize you-”

You stood, moving to approach him with the tentative grace of a doe, trying to make the changes in your demeanor profound. “I’ve been being unfair.”

He smiled with relief, moving to embrace you. “Yes, thank you for coming to me and sorting this out. It was certainly challenging to fight a war, and my wife.”

The mention of their vows rose a lump in your throat, but you swallowed it and buried your head in his shoulder. “Can I have you to myself for a few hours?”

And Robb, the sweet summer child who’d maintained hope in the found cause of the Bolton girl, believed you, hook, line, and sinker. “For as long as you want me.” 

{Possible part 3 to wrap things up? Drop me an ask and tell me what you think? Hope you enjoyed the sequel!}

[thenoblehouseofdayne]

Absence {Robb Stark x Lannister!Reader}

@andtheytoldustotellyouhello requested “Could I request a Robb x lannister!reader where they get married before the show/serious starts and how they react to the king’s visit to winterfell?”

[Warning: Some references to sex]

[I'm struggling a bit with writing the sequel to Pride, so I might post a few one shots while I'm feeling inspired. Requests are still open, and totally encouraged!]

§

His fingers traced over the exposed skin of her shoulders, his lips pressing light kisses to her neck.

Y/N shifted slightly in her sleep, her eyes fluttering open, and she spared him a small smile, usually reserved just for her Stark husband. Pressing her face against his chest, she drew deep breaths, sunlight streaming in through the open window.

“Are you nervous?” Robb’s voice was full of warmth, a husky tone deepening in the morning hours.

She was silent for a moment, before nodding begrudgingly. “You’ve heard the things they say of me. The Lioness who runs with the wolves?” She laughed almost bitterly to hide her hurt. “I am a traitor to them.”

Robb frowned imperceptibly, continuing to rub small circles into her back. “It’s only a few days.” He offered comfortingly.

§

Y/N watched the young Starks line up beside their father, taking her place beside Robb. She smiled as his arm wound around her waist and she squeezed his hand gently. No words were exchanged and all conversation seemed meaningless when the royal procession came into view. She felt her chest constrict when she saw the golden adorned carriage glint in the meager winter sun.

Robb couldn’t focus on how the crowd buzzed, or how his father’s posture straightened up, or how his sister seemed to hold herself differently when the crown prince came into her sight. He could only focus on his quivering wife and how tense she became with each passing moment.

The King greeted Ned Stark and let his eyes drift down the line, giving a brief nod of acknowledgment to Robb and Y/N.

The carriage door swung outward and Cersei emerged, her gaze downcast. She scowled at the procession gathered to meet them, taking a reluctant place beside her husband. Her hardened eyes softened imperceptibly when they settled over her sister.

Joffrey emerged from the carriage, and Y/N greeted her nephew sparingly, giving him a gentle smile that seemed contrived. The other two Lannister children emerged after him, and Y/N pressed a kiss to the tops of each of their heads.

Jamie was next, and he pulled his youngest sister into a loose embrace, eyeing her northern husband with distaste. This marriage hadn’t been his choice, and if he had gotten his way, his youngest sister would’ve never married and died an old maid on the Rock. But a Lannister being the Lady of Winterfell was a strategic advantage, and even Jamie could see that.

Tyrion followed his siblings, and his somber expression split into a broad grin as his elder sister came into his view, rushing forward to embrace her.

Y/N stooped down to hug her youngest brother, admitting how much she’d missed Tyrion. She hugged him tightly, finally releasing him and standing back to her full height. She couldn’t help but feel a bit lightened, her mood soaring after seeing her siblings again. It seemed as if she’d been away for years, and it certainly felt like it when she saw how old Cersei’s children had gotten. She subconsciously remarked on her lack of child, and glanced over to Robb unnoticeably. She could only hope that he had more sense than most lords whose wives remained without child.

The assembled family and friends continued their greetings and introductions as her mind wandered, a faraway smile atop her gentle expression.

Robb felt his own mood lift when he saw his wife’s change in spirit. He silently thanked the gods that none of siblings betrayed any feelings of animosity towards them and their marriage, and yet silently he wondered how long such a peace could last. He pressed his lips to Y/N’s temple, inhaling the scent of her hair, and pulling away slowly, his demeanor visibly more relaxed.

“So,” Jamie interrupted both their thoughts, and he gave a seemingly amiable smile. “Has your Northern husband been treating you well?”

Cersei side-eyed her brother releasing a quiet warning. “Jamie…”

Jamie barely glanced at her. “What? I just intend to know if he misuses her.” His eyes flicked back towards his younger sister. “Does he treat you well?”

Y/N frowned slightly, her eyes hardening if for only a moment. “He treats me like a Queen.” She professed honestly, trying to ease how tense Robb’s arm had become around her. “I’ve never been happier.”

Jamie hummed quietly, not seeming to care that even the King had fallen silent now, watching the tense exchange between the two siblings. “And the marital bed? Does he satisfy you sexually?”

Cersei was immediately in uproar. “Jamie!” She snarled, taking a half-step towards her misguided brother.

Y/N was stunned into silence, going completely still.

Robb felt a slight blush come over his cheeks, quickly shifting to anger as the noble men began to chuckle as his flustered wife.

Y/N’s hand on his shoulder stopped him from doing something impulsive as she quickly regained her composure. “He satisfies me completely. So much so that the rooms surrounding ours had to be vacated. I hope you enjoy your stay here.” She spoke with complete poise before grabbing Robb’s hand and turning on her heel, pulling her husband after her. Taking the Stark name did not mean that she didn’t have the temper of a Lannister.

The King chuckled softly as he watched their retreating forms, silently glad that the eldest Stark had found happiness with the tamest of the Lannister Lions. They were a good match and he had no doubt that the two would attempt to prove Jamie wrong later that night.

[thenoblehouseofdayne]

Daughter Dearest {Robb Stark x Bolton!Reader}

@andtheytoldustotellyouhello requested: “bolton sister reader married Robb before they head south for the war?”

[Thanks for the request! Brief strong language warning. Hope you enjoy!]

§

Her sneer was unimaginably cold, and she glared at her father across the table. “What… strategy is this?” Her meal sat abandoned in front of her. “You would make me a hostage, a token of your submission? Marry me to some Stark brat?” She was more Bolton than she knew.

Roose calmly let her finish her temper tantrum, his hands resting on the edge of the table. “Robb Stark is a King.”

There was a pause, and she scoffed lowly. “He’s not my King.”

Roose blinked in a bored way, continuing to jab at his food with the dull knife. “He is your King. Do you know what will happen if we do not bend the knee?” He didn’t let her retort, continuing in an effortlessly calm way. “Our lands are pillaged, our fortress ransacked. I am executed as a traitor, and you become the only whore for an entire army of northern men.” He cast her a blank glance. “I would sell you to a Wildling to prevent that. You’re marrying the Stark boy, even if our men drag you there.”

§

Robb stared back at his mother with skepticism clear in his expression. “A… Bolton?” He frowned, examining the seal on the letter. Molded into the red was a flayed man, the same sigil that had been haunting the North for centuries.

Catelyn nodded. “It’s the best way to ensure their alliance holds. It’s unfortunate that Roose Bolton managed to avoid the bloodshed this war has wrought, and the girl comes with an army.” She laid a hand on his shoulder affectionately, maybe a bit remorsefully.

§

Y/N winced painfully, managing to hold her breath for a few seconds as her corset was laced. Another handmaiden tugged on the small braids in her hair, letting the dark locks drape around her neck, drifting over her shoulders. The dress was heavy, and the skirts swished noisily when she walked. She peered at her reflection in the mirror briefly as she was hustled out of the meager tent where she’d been forced to prepare. She was almost taken aback. She looked like a Stark

The Weirwood tree looked especially ominous that night, and Robb finally caught his first glimpse of his bride. He admired how the dress contrasted against the snow, and how snowflakes got caught in her dark hair, but mostly he watched her expressions. She appeared to waver slightly, her face twisting when she saw him. Just as quickly as it had appeared, the expression disappeared.

§

Robb found himself staring at the Bolton girl again, watching as she pulled the blankets to her chest, obscuring her nude form. She seemed… embarrassed? He made his way towards the bed, slipping beneath the furs. His leg brushed against hers, and he watched as she flinched, pulling back.

Y/N couldn’t look at him. She was still processing the consummation, processing the fact that she’d been forced to bed a Stark. Anger welled up in her stomach, and she bit back a thousand curses for her new husband.

Robb let the silence hang for a moment before he spoke again. “I hope we can make the best of this.” He offered, pulling the sheets up his waist.

Before she could stop it, a scoff ripped free from her lips. Finally, she decided didn’t want to bite her tongue any longer. “Let’s be clear Stark. I don’t love you, and I don’t plan to be a docile wife who knits by the fire while you fight for my honor. I don’t care about your vows. I won’t be your prisoner.” A night of biting her cheek, and forcing a laugh, and snide comments about her father’s submission had rendered her to the end of her rope.

Robb’s expression hardened, and a minuscule part of him was disappointed that he hadn’t been wrong about the Boltons. “Fine.” He turned his back on her, adjusting beneath the covers as he processed what had just happened.

She shifted on the mattress, moving as far away from Robb as possible, pulling up the covers again to preserve her modesty.

In silence, there they laid. Husband and wife indeed.

[thenoblehouseofdayne]

Loyalty {Robb Stark x Male! Reader}

@andtheytoldustotellyouhello requested “Or where male!reader is the heir of the vale and he comes to pledge for the king of the north, his cousin?”

[Thanks for the request! Cousin incest and smut warning!]

§

Even the gray skies could not dampen his spirits.

His eyes were filled with wonder, taking in every inch of the war encampment. It was as if he was five and ten again, watching the Knights of the Vale spar in the courtyard.

Men were gathered in the thousands, all united behind his cousin, the King whose name is Stark. A whole village of tents and the bustle was intoxicating. No man seemed to mind him, and he brushed shoulders with several as he passed through the large crowds. He was invisible here. Not the Heir to the Vale, or the eldest son of Jon Arryn. Just a man.

“Y/N!”

His head shot up, and he searched for the source of the voice.

Theon Greyjoy waved him over. Clapping him on the back, he smiled brightly. “To what do we owe the pleasure, my lord?”

Y/N smiled wistfully at the distant childhood memory. Titles meant nothing then, and they carried nothing but weight now. He was the Heir to the Vale, and the eldest son of the former Hand of the King. He couldn’t act as he had in his younger years, and he couldn’t pretend that the thought didn’t terrify him. “I’ve heard we have a new King.” He played along, giving Theon a teasing smile. “I thought I’d size the bastard up.”

A deep chuckle sounded from inside the tent. “Watch yourself, Arryn. I could have your tongue for that.” Robb stepped out of the tent, embracing his cousin tightly- and for a moment too long. He held Y/N at arm’s length, smiling widely. “It’s been too long. Look at you, you’re a man grown.”

Y/N’s smile faltered slightly, and he tried not to show the impact of Robb’s words. “Indeed.” He gnawed on the inside of his cheek, struggling with the newfound awkward silence.

Robb held back a tent flap and gestured inside, carefully closing it behind him. “We can discuss in here.” He turned to face his cousin, eyeing him again before speaking. “Why are you here?” He pried curiously, taking the seat across from Y/N.

Y/N managed a polite smile. “I’m here on behalf of the Vale. I must bend the knee before our new King.” There was a teasing tone to his words, and it was not missed by Robb.

“Indeed.” He mused in a mockingly haughty way. “I presume you have terms?” Robb’s smile was something else, bright and warm.

“I would stay in the war encampment as one of your bannermen in lieu of my mother.”

Robb nodded. Careful not to miss a single word. Despite how close the two were, this was Lysa Arryn speaking, not his dearest cousin.

“The Knights of the Vale would be at your disposal. And I would be on your small council.”

“This all seems quite reasonable,” Robb confessed, getting to his feet. “I believe we have an agreement?” He held out a hand as if to shake on it.

Y/N smiled and nodded, shaking Robb’s hands, and silently noting how warm they seemed to be.

“Now,” Robb began, letting his fingers trace the edge of the table. “For the sake of tradition. I need you to bend the knee and promise me your loyalty in the battles to come.” His smile was anything but serious and regal.

With a lackluster energy, Y/N carefully plopped down onto his knees, sitting back on his heels and staring up at Robb. “What do you want me to say?”

Robb’s hand caressed the boy’s chin, his fingers tracing his jawline, seemingly purposely ignoring his cousin’s question. “You look good like this.” He had so effortlessly crossed the line between proper and improper. “You always did.” And he veered wildly into an improper territory.

Memories flooded his mind, old and hazy memories of summers spent at Winterfell, and nights spent in Robb’s chambers. The Young Wolf did enjoy the power that accompanied forcing his lover to kneel before him and pleasure him. “Robb…” Y/N murmured warningly, casting a wary glance towards the tent flaps.

"I missed you.” Robb continued, taking a gentle grip of Y/N’s chin and forcing the boy to meet his eyes. “Did you miss me?”

How easily they fell back on old routines. “This isn’t a good idea…” Y/N murmured, with dwindling reluctance. He could only hold out for so long.

“Well,” Robb released his cousin’s chin, taking a seat in a plush leather-lined chair. “Prove your loyalty to me. Pledge your loyalty to your king.”

Y/N crawled forward, pausing in front of the chair and staring up at Robb. “Are you sure?” They weren’t children anymore, and this wasn’t harmless fooling around. There were feelings attached, and they both knew that.

“Yes,” Robb breathed a bit exasperatedly. “I want you.”

Y/N’s smile was sunny and endearing. Calmly undoing the strings of Robb’s trousers, and resting back on his heels. There was something so breathtaking about that moment. The way Robb’s cheeks flushed, or how neither was concerned with watching the door. The familiar way Y/N wrapped his soft hands around Robb’s length, or the gentle kisses he’d lay up and down the shaft. The way one of Robb’s hands would remain tangled in his lover’s hair, or the way he’d groan lowly.

It was only a few moments, but it felt like an eternity before Robb spoke again. “Open.”

It was a simple command, and Y/N obliged willingly, letting his jaw relax as he began to engulf Robb’s length with his warm and wet mouth.

Robb’s chest rose and fell heavily, his lips parted as he moaned softly. He began to lift his hips, working his length further into the other man’s mouth. It was different this time, as they knew it would be. They weren’t children now, and they both knew what they wanted.

It was a shame they didn’t want the same thing.

Robb’s hips stuttered, and he released his seed onto Y/N’s tongue. He groaned loudly as he finished, taking a moment to catch his breath. He gave his cousin a lazy smile, his head lolling back as his posture visibly relaxed. “You’ve proven yourself most loyal indeed.” Robb laughed breathlessly.

And Y/N gave only soft chuckle in response, his heart in his throat.

They weren’t children anymore. Titles meant everything. Robb was a King. He’d marry a pretty lady and she’d be his Queen. They would never want the same things, and any love between them was doomed.

But Y/N fell for him again and again.

[thenoblehouseofdayne]

Alliance {Robb Stark x Targaryen!Reader}

@future-ll-evans requested: “What about a Targaryen!Reader and Robb Stark? Early ally? Dany sends her sister and Barristan (because he ain’t dead to me) secretly to gain the northern allies.”

Warnings: sexual content, mentions of pre-marital sex? 

(Sorry for the wait! Summer vacation is quite hectic for me, and my update scedule is going to be patchy for the rest of July, but to tide you over, here’s a Robb Stark!)

---

You had quite a few nightmares as a child. Not about the Rebellion, no, you were too young to remember that, but other dangers from Esos stuck in your mind clearly, and served as fuel for some night terrors. Your brother Viserys’ cruel hand, an old beggar snarling at you when you’d reached for the coins he’d dropped, loud and raucous storms that seemed to shake your bed.

None of it compared to waking up knowing you had to leave your sister and set sail for Westeros, possibly to be killed or to never return. 

You ate in silence, and met Ser Barristan down by the docks, accompanied by your sister, who’d come to see you off. You exchanged an embrace, she wished you safe travels and walked back to her palace discreetly. 

You had to take a small fishing boat, to avoid suspicion from passing ships or employees at the docks. Your sister had sent ahead letters to respectable families, alerting them of your incoming arrival. You planned to sail to the Bite, and work your way North, they had seceded from the Crown, and could benefit from a strong alliance- regardless of what side they had taken in the Rebellion. 

---

After meeting with Lysa Arryn, and traveling through the Neck, you arrived at Winterfell, hoping to convince the King of the North to bend the knee to your sister, or at least agree not to take up arms against her. From what you’d been told by other nobles, if Robb Stark agreed to an alliance, the other Northern houses would fall in line. 

Ser Barristan at your side, you approached the gates of the great fortress, heavy snow pummeling your personage as a blizzard raged. A small brigade rushed to receive you, offering to help you down from your horse and tend to your luggage. You were quickly ushered inside and seated beside a fire, and a few minutes later, the King of the North arrived to greet you. 

Concern was immediately apparent as you rose to meet him, and he insisted you remained by the fire, eyeing your bluing skin and silently wondering if you’d catch cold. “I apologize for the lack of preparation, we didn’t think you would brave the blizzard, and frankly, I’m not sure you should have.”

You laughed a little quietly, glad the feeling was returning to the tips of your fingers. “I suppose I underestimated just how severe the storm would be, I am not quite used to this Winter business, you Northerns must wear such heavy cloaks.” You griped, pawing at your blue cloak which seemed to disappear under a heavy wind. 

He chuckled in return, taking a seat beside you on the fur throw. There was a beat of silence between you too as the conversation settled, until eventually, he spoke. “What is it like? Out East, I mean.” 

You thought for a second. “I haven’t really been anywhere else, we left Westeros when I was small, and I don’t remember it well. But, it’s warm. I’ve seen a lot of the coast in our travels, and the water seems a little bluer there.” You gave a fond and homesick smile, watching the flames flicker in the hearth. “There’s a lot more sand.” You offered, a bit dismissively. You glanced over, examining his features fully for the first time, begrudgingly impressed by the strong cut of his jaw. 

Robb pretended not to notice you staring, and thought on how to continue the conversation. “Your name, it’s Y/N, correct?”

You gave a nod, inwardly pleased that he hadn’t pronounced it incorrectly like other northerner’s had. Something about their accent made Valyrian sound... oddly forced rather than the smooth transition of syllables- as you’d been taught. “Would you prefer Robb, or Lord Stark?” You responded, not wishing to offend. 

He thought for a moment. “Robb.” He said, with decision. “I don’t think I’m quite ready for Lord Stark.” 

You smiled in return, and turned back to the fire. 

---

Your quill touched the parchment lovingly as you penned your sister’s name, before dipping your quill back in the ink, ignoring the presence reading over your shoulder. 

Daenerys,

Thus far, my travels have been pleasant. I’ve been received well at all the castles I’ve visited, and the nobles have been nothing short of polite, in particular-

His lips pressed a soft kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder, as he brushed your hair back to better access the skin. 

You attempted to ignore his teasing and continued to write. 

-in particular, the Starks have been most gracious hosts and agreed to hold Ser Barristan and I a few more weeks until the weather settles. The winters this far North are brutal, I’ve never seen so much snow in my life! But, the castle is warm and-

He bit down quickly, before soothing the area with a brush of his tongue, continuing on a trail up your neck. “Take a break.” He murmured. 

You attempted to brush him off again. “I have to finish this-”

His hand moved to the straps of your slip, slowly removing the left and then the right and taking your exposed breasts in his hands. “She can wait a few minutes.”

You dropped the quill and began to move from the chair, when he swept you off your feet and tossed you onto the bed, a wolfish grin on his face. It seemed as though he’d been only a hair away from ravaging you anyways, and was simply waiting for you to deliver yourself to him. 

---

Daenerys had been particularly surprised to hear of your courtship, and more so, your plan to wed, but supported you none the less. Strategically, the move was perfect, and if he truly made you happy, there was no downside. She urged you to elope privately, for her presence was still not fully welcome in Westeros, and her army built slowly as she conquered more and more slaving cities, but supported your wishes to marry as soon as you could. 

As her ascension picked up steam, the Lannisters made moves to counter her, unknowing that the seeds of her revolt had already been planted in Westeros, and that the North already planned to rally behind her when the time came. 

The war was brewing, but in your marital bed, your alliances grew only stronger. 

[thenoblehouseofdayne]

Tender Mistakes {Robb Stark x Baratheon!Reader}

Anonymous requested; “The Reader is the trueborn daughter of Robert and Cersei. She is betrothed to Robb at a young age and is sent to Winterfell soon after. She grows up beside her future husband and both are utterly in love. They get... physical a few years before they are supposed to marry and the reader falls pregnant. How do the families react?”

Warnings: pregnancy, mentions of pre-marital sex,

You’d loved Robb since you were a child. You’d loved him since the day he confronted you in the courtyard of Winterfell, thrusted three winter-roses into your hands and pressing an painfully awkward kiss to your cheek before scurrying back to Theon- red in the face. 

The thorns had been digging into your palms, but all you could do was stare after him, floored. 

It was a few months before you had garnered the courage to return the sentiment. A girl of three and ten, you weren’t yet inventive, but you’d caught him staring enough times to know that his feelings had not yet faded. 

Your footsteps echoed across the stone of the great hall, and you narrowly dodged Jon, side-stepping around him to grab hold of Robb. You clutched his upper arm firmly, and flashed a nervous smile. “Catch me if you can.” You were gone in a flurry of skirts, darting through the courtyard with intense purpose. 

Robb stared for a few seconds before rushing to follow, nearly colliding with a servant on the way out. He shouted an apology over his shoulder, and tracked you with his eyes, quickly closing the gap between you two. By the time you reached the Godswood, you were just outside his grip. 

You skittered to a stop, heaving and panting, offering a tense smile. 

Robb’s hand touched your shoulder gently. He grinned broadly. “Caught you.” He teased softly, his nerves forgotten for a few seconds. 

“You did.” Surging forward, you pressed a violent and searing kiss atop his lips, clutching the fabric of his jerkin between your fingers, before releasing him entirely and taking a few steps back. “Let’s see if you can do it again.” And with a swoosh of fabric, you disappeared beyond the treeline. 

This was the first of many such encounters, spanning the next few years of your stay at Winterfell. Stolen glances and hidden kisses, and nights spent nearing the same conclusion. You’d feel your heart pound and your cheeks flush, and as you grew older, a new feeling grew to accompany this. Lust. 

You knew you weren’t the only one. Out of respect for you, and the vows you two would swear in a few years time, Robb had contained himself. But he grew closer and closer each time, his hands growing more and more bold. The first night the two of you became intimate, you knew you could resist him no longer. 

The way his hands gripped your thighs and hips, pleasuring you with that sharp tongue of his, or the way his groans vibrated against your skin, his thrusts shallow and sporadic as he met his climax. 

Perhaps you were not as careful as you should have been. 

You missed your bleeding. Once. Twice. The third time, you went to see the Maester, fear welling up inside you. He confirmed what you already knew. You were with child, Robb’s child, a third of the way to your delivery. 

Robb reacted positively, his own worries masked by a growing adoration of the idea of creating a family with you- his love. He promised to defend your honor, and if need be, steal you away and keep his family whole. 

 Robb’s parents were another matter. Catelyn was horrified, both at the disregard of tradition and the consequences this would bear. You were the King’s daughter, and Robb had managed to impregnate you within your first year of intimacy. Ned was stoic, throughout the spiel Robb gave defending you and the child. Robb took the blame, claiming to have convinced you to join him preemptively. It was better than being branded a harlot. 

When Ned finally spoke, he offered a word of suggestion. If Robb spoke to the King alone, he would not live to tell the tale. Ned agreed to accompany him and work to contain Robert’s anger. Ned also suggested that you not attend this meeting, knowing that if your father saw your swelling belly, his rage would only grow. 

After two tense hours with no word one way or the other, Robb returned with a weak smile. 

You met him at the door, embracing him firmly. “How did it go?”

“I’m a scoundrel and a knave who stole your purity.” Robb sounded weary, kicking off his boots and shambling in the direction of the bed. “Your father wants me executed, and your mother wants me to wed you tomorrow before you begin to show more. Father’s trying to get them to see reason.”

You paused, blinking, and attempting to assist in removing his clothes. “Well, why not?” You tossed aside his slacks, climbing atop the bed and sitting comfortably. 

Robb gave you a curious look over his shoulder. “What?” 

“Why don’t we marry tomorrow?”

Robb stared at you, momentarily bewildered. “Y/N... are you certain that’s what you want?” His tone was concerned, and he enveloped your hand in his. “I don’t want to pressure you into making this decision lightly. We’re young, and we can move past this-”

“Can we?” You snapped, noticeably vexed, your head in your hands. “The assembly is already whispering, and we don’t have much time before I begin to show.” Softening your tone, you continued. “I want to wed on my own terms, Robb. I don’t want to be sequestered away and hastily shoved into a gown. I want to make this decision for myself. I adore you, Robb, that won’t change in three years between then and now.”

Robb- though touched- looked a bit unconvinced. “If this is truly what you want,” he chose his words carefully, his arms winding around you tightly and holding you to him. “Then I’ll wed you- tomorrow if need be.” His voice grew steady by the end of his sentence, and he pressed a soft kiss to your hairline. “I’ll speak to your father tomorrow morning, I’ve had quite enough of him for tonight.” 

Though you could keenly spot his nerves, you knew that he was more weary than frightened. A good night’s sleep would do him well, and the two of you could discuss more when morning came. 

Despite the scandal surrounding your... situation, both of your families managed to offer support on your wedding day. Your father had yet to speak to you, but you supposed that his indifference was the best gift he could give you. If he avoided making a scene, the wedding would run smoothly. 

Your mother said little, but entered your chambers near midday and dismissed the servants tending to you, laying her hands on your shoulders and meeting your eyes in the mirror. “Do you love him?” There was a note of disappointment, as unspoken as it was. Cersei had always silently hoped that the arrangement with the Starks would give way for a better alliance, a better husband, or a closer one at least. You were her oldest child, and she loved you to the moon and back. 

“I do.” With no hesitancy, you responded. The wedding had come together quickly, but your feelings for Robb had not changed. Married or unmarried, with or without child, Robb was your true love. 

She squeezed your shoulders lightly, offering a tense semblance of a smile. “Then hold to him. Never let anyone separate you. The Gods care little for lost loves.” There was something aged and ornery in her distant gaze, as though recalling an instance of affection from her youth. Without another word, her fingers began to undo the plaits pinned to your scalp. Upon your curious gaze, she offered a few rumblings. “You’re a princess, not a tart.”

When your hair sat in loose waves down your neck, she finally paused to take stock of what she’d done. She nodded in a satisfied manner, pruning for a moment before helping you to your feet and guiding you to the reflecting glass. 

You were stunning. 

For a moment, you stood shock still, awestruck, staring at your reflection. You looked like a queen. You looked like a bride. You looked like a goddess. Before this moment, you hadn’t yet come to terms with your immediate future, but here, you were thrust forward into your wedding- your marriage to Robb. 

The wedding was not the grand affair that you had dreamed of as a child. It was quick and ill-formed, with only a few essential nobles surrounding the two families. The Sept of Baelor had been emptied for the proceedings, save for a priest or two. 

You felt your heart stutter as Robb came into view, draped in black and grey, his head swiveling to catch a glimpse of you, and smiling warmly when he did. 

Smiling to yourself, you lowered your gaze, wanting nothing more than to rush forward and embrace him. But, you took your time, eventually coming to a stop just beside him, and sneaking a peek in his direction, meeting his eyes and blushing. You still managed to feel like a bashful bride on her wedding day, despite the circumstances leading to it. 

The vows came easily, they were the same ones you’d been practicing since childhood, imagining a moment just like this. Robb’s hand in yours, his cloak over your shoulders, his name in place of yours. 

And when his lips finally pressed to yours- as husband and wife- you smiled, because you knew that you were finally home. 

[thenoblehouseofdayne]

King of the Flowers {Robb Stark x Male!Reader}

Anonymous requested: “I wonder if you could whip up another Robb Stark x Male Reader with smut please. Something along the lines of a royal visitor arrives at Winterfell with whom Robb is extremely taken with, the visitor likewise and they sneak off in the dead of night to do the deed.”

warnings: sexual thoughts and actions, sexual teasing and descriptions

You’d always had a weakness for the pretty ones. The first sons of Lords who had a veritable endless inheritance, but would bet it all on a single night of unfamiliar pleasure. It’d become a game for you. A few words, followed by a few glances, and if everything turned out well...

You were one of the lesser Tyrell cousins, little to inherit and even less expected of you, so you experienced a certain degree of freedom unusual for men of your standing. You’d begun a grand tour of Westeros, starting in King’s Landing and drifting through several other cities, before finding yourself in the temperate (to put it lightly) North. 

The Stark family had treated you kindly, and invited you to stay as long as you’d like, and with their vision of an eldest son, you planned to be abusing their hospitality for a few weeks longer. 

You’d heard once or twice that Robb Stark was attractive, or easy on the eyes, but Gods, if that wasn’t the understatement of the century! With those dark curls and blue eyes, you were safer averting your eyes, lest you be caught staring. 

He’d been polite to you, offering to spar or accompany you on your morning rides through the woods, and every interaction had been pleasant, with conversation ranging from where you’d grown up to old folktales and everything in between. 

His attraction to you had gone relatively unnoticed during your visit, until yesterday morning. You’d caught him staring, carnally, and his obvious deflection didn’t stop you from placing two and two together, and returning, determined, the next morning. 

He seemed flustered as you’d knocked on his door to wake him this morning, only half-dressed when he came to the door, muttering something about waking later than he’d intended, pulling on a tunic and a pair of boots and brushing past you to quickly walk to the stables, one hand adjusting the loose ties that secured the front of his trousers. 

Your curiosity was peaked. “Is everything alright, Robb? You seem distracted.”

He swallowed, turning his face away. “Like I said, I just lost track of time.”

“Hm. Quite. Busy morning?” You mussed his hair as you passed with a smirk, beginning to prepare your horse, as you did before each of your rides, grooming and outfitting the mare. 

He choked, cheeks flushing as he concealed it with a unsubtle cough. “What do you mean?”

You turned, an eyebrow raised. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Robb, we all have our needs. I can step out if you need a moment to yourself.” Your eyes flicked down towards the hastily tied trousers, before returning your attention to your horse.

“I wasn’t-” He blustered, unable to meet your eyes, his modesty and lingering embarrassment obvious in his astonished tone. “Let’s just go on the ride.” He mounted his horse and shifted impatiently as you poked and prodded until approval, mounting yours alongside him. 

You were smiling as you rode ahead, entering the privacy of the woods, and feeling the growing warmth of his gaze on your back. He wasn’t exactly being subtle here. 

“The southern kingdoms, they’re more liberal with their beliefs, yes?” He called ahead, waiting until you idled enough and kept pace beside you on the narrow path. 

“In a way. We’re certainly less stiff-collared about it, but even we have our moments. I was only teasing this morning, it’s none of my business who occupies your fantasies.”

“And if it was you?” 

You blinked, processing this for a split-second. “All the more reason to share that information, Stark, but if you’d like to compare my talents in and out of your dreams, I’d be willing to provide a trial.” You carried a jovial tone, but the intensity of the heat bouncing between the two of you was far from casual. 

He gave a soft laugh, though it sounded a little breathy and nervous. “We’ll see what the future holds, then.”

In your few weeks together, you’d never seen him like this, anxious and lovesick like a teenager. It was enough to spur on your taunts. “What if I’m not willing to wait?”

Robb’s horse came to a stop, and you could hear the serenity of the woods around you slow to a deafening silence as this confession was made. He didn’t respond, watching you slowly dismount the animal and fasten it to a limb.

The leaves crunched beneath your boots and you drew a quick breath, allowing your hands to skim the trees as you passed, eyes searching for a break in the trees. 

“Y/N...” his voice echoed out behind you, and you could hear the haste in his footsteps as he followed you. 

You rounded the bend and found your prize, a small pond at the bottom of a small hill, perfectly and serenely encircled with a lovely ring of trees, giving you the illusion of privacy and secrecy in the center of the woods. Your hands drifted to the fasten of your cloak. 

He crunched through the foliage, pausing just behind you, and watching you lay your cloak out on the slope. “It’s practically winter, you’re going to catch cold!” He complained, rooted to the spot as your hands moved to the fasten of your trousers. 

“You’ll keep me warm, won’t you?”

A warmth bloomed in his cheeks, but he didn’t protest. 

You again redoubled your effort of unlacing the breeches, tucking your thumbs into the waistband and glancing up to discover his rapt attention on your hands. “Would you like to do this bit?” 

He moved forward, eager but hesitant, pausing as his hands came to rest on your hips. “I’m not as experienced as you, I’m not sure that I’ll be the perfect companion for-”

You lifted a hand to his cheek. “Your innocence is one of your most endearing qualities, Stark. Shows there’s a sheep beneath your wolfish exterior.” You pinched his cheek, a teasing grin lighting up your face. 

His nerves seemed to dissipate with this latest jab, and his hand drifted to cup your member over your pants, giving a testing squeeze and hearing the soft exhale that resulted, before pushing you towards one of the trees that surrounded the grove. 

You lost your breath as you collided with the tree, instantly caught off guard as the wild streak emerged. 

Robb’s lips were fierce and suddenly upon yours, being sure to keep you pinned as he began a frantic and inexperienced exploration of the male kiss, eventually melting into it as the initial spark rose into a steady and bright flame, one hand still massaging your member. 

It was a disappointment when you had to separate for a short gasp of breath, a lazy smile curling up towards your eyes as you recovered from the intensity. “I see.” Gently pushing him off, you slowly kicked off your boots at the base of the tree, moving down towards your abandoned cloak. You looked over your shoulder at him again, your eyes darker than they had been in moments previous. “I want you, Robb Stark.”

He smiled back for the first time. “And how will you have me?”

---

{OO, surprise fic! Hope you enjoyed, even though there hasn’t been smut (yet), feel free to request a second part if you feel I’ve been a bit of a tease ;), and welcome to all the new followers!}

[thenoblehouseofdayne]

Daughter Dearest 3

warnings: mentions of sex, emotional manipulation, mentions of illness, 

Part One Here!

Part Two Here!

{This is one of my favorite series to write at the moment, and since I’m flowing with inspiration at the moment, here’s part three.}

You could feel the tangle of his limbs with yours, and a slight nausea tickling the back of your throat as you rested in the shadow of your ‘reunion’. 

Robb had proven a more than able lover, no different than the last time you’d laid together. His arms were snug around your waist as he kissed up your shoulder. 

You felt unnerved at how easily he’d grown to trust you, forgetting weeks of torment and misery the moment you’d implied that you had any meaning behind your actions. It was easy being married to him, as easy as breathing, because he so badly wanted you to harmonize with him, he bent over backwards to achieve his intended bliss. In the afterglow, you had difficulty finding your words, but he was quicker to recover. 

“I mean no offense by this, truly, but I have difficulty believing you and your father are cut of the same cloth. Even in your tougher moments, you’re so full of passion and emotion and he’s... devoid of it, always.”

“Your romantic banter could use improvement.” You murmured with a soft smile, shifting on the mattress to better face him, allowing yourself to relax in his grasp. “But I understand what you mean. He’s not an incredibly emphatic man.”

Robb felt a growing warmth in his chest as he examined the intricacies of her face, but allowed it to linger as she spoke, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. “And what of your mother?”

The comfort you’d barely indulged in was gone in an instant, and your expression sobered. “She’s been ill since I was a child.” You averted your eyes as you revealed this small truth to your suddenly regretful husband. “But even if her condition improves, she’s not the same as she was. So my father distances himself from her entirely.” You shifted again in discomfort. “It’s somewhat of a sore subject.” 

Robb was immediately apologetic. “I had no idea, Y/N, I’m sorry that I-”

You quieted him soon after he began speaking. “It’s been some time, it doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. I just get a bit downtrodden when talking about her. Childhood woes, I suppose.”

His arms grew slightly more lax around you and he seemed less social as silence settled between the two of you. 

“My liege!” Impending footsteps approached the tent, and both scrambled to make themselves decent as a soldier burst into the tent. He flushed and recoiled as he saw his King and Queen wrapped in an intimate embrace. “I didn’t realize you were indecent-”

“Excuse yourself while you still have dignity. He’ll speak to you when he’s decent.” You snapped, watching him duck back out of the tent. 

Robb chastised you with a sideways glance, but stood to ready himself, fastening his trousers and touching your chin with an unspoken softness as he disappeared out the front of the tent to greet his awaiting masses. 

You were slower to redress, but emerged shortly after Robb, finding your father waiting for you, impatience in his stance. “Glad to see your tardiness hasn’t expired with age.”

You didn’t bite, rolling your eyes and beginning to walk beside him, adjusting your heavy cloak to shield you from the wind. “I didn’t realize you’d be waiting for me. I thought you’d be in the crowd of hopefuls following him like trained pets.” It was an honest observation, watching the trail of young and old lords tracking each of his movements and whispering in his ear.

“I wouldn’t insult my pride so gravely.” He took your arm as you moved towards the perimeter of the camp, and towards a pair of horses, neatly groomed and prepared for a ride. 

“Where are we going?” You questioned, your eyes catching Robb as he spoke to a few of his audience, no doubt providing some obvious answer that they’d overlooked, based on his pleasant smile and their gracious expressions. 

“To retrieve your brother and escort him into the encampment.”

Your head swiveled in shock, and you felt your breathing stall. “Ramsay is coming here? I thought he was in Dreadfort, watching over the castle?”

Roose helped you atop one of the horses with a slight grimace. “Wrote that he’d grown tired of the domestic life, and that he craves the thrill of battle. He’ll be gone in a few months, by my guess.”

You paled, tightening your grip on the reins. “Does Robb know?”

Roose mounted his horse beside you, slowly easing his to a trot. “Of course he knows. I’ve warned him in advance, did he say anything of it to you?”

Your expression twisted in realization. That’s where all the sudden questions about your family life had been leading. “He didn’t mention it, oddly.” You kept pace with your father, watching the trees pass as you left the boundaries of the encampment. “Couldn’t we have sent soldiers to retrieve him? Did he request our audience personally?” 

Roose sighed. “Demanded it, in fact. He’s going to be a prick for his entire visit, don’t expect him to act with decency now that you’ve acquired a ring.”

It was true to form that you and Ramsay hadn’t seen eye to eye in the past, but more often than not, you’d been able to avoid him with frequent trips to visit your mother or other nobles throughout your adolescence, but in the past few months, you’d enjoyed being free of his nuisance. 

You two rode up over the hill, seeing the seemingly endless fields of perfect white snow before you, and at the far end of the meadow, you could see an approaching mounted figure, cloaked in black, a Bolton banner slung over an additional horse bearing his luggage. 

Your half-brother, Ramsay, arrived with a wicked smile and a darker heart, waiting the was within a stone’s throw to speak. “My, how you’ve grown, dear sister.” 

Your expression was stone, but your eyes betrayed the smallest amount of fear as you began the ride back. He’d always been a wild card, but now, with granted power and status, and only growing cruelty, he made your own mean streak look docile. 

“-and your Stark keeper, Y/N, does he serve as a suitable admission to your collection of lovers?”  

[thenoblehouseofdayne]

hello! can i request #9 & #13 + robb stark from your prompt list? some fluff if possible! thank you so much!!

#9; “If you ever touch her again, I’ll blind you.”

#13; “I can take care of myself.”

EXPLICIT LANGUAGE WARNING, MENTIONS OF SEXUAL HARASSMENT

You could always find Robb defending your honor. Rain or shine, without fail, if someone so much as sniffed at you, Robb would be at their throat- Grey Wind not far behind. It was… admirable, how highly he thought of you, and the protective shine he’d taken to you. 

Being a woman of lower standing, you hadn’t grown up in a palace, or a great keep, just a sleepy northern village two days ride from Winterfell. You’d dreamed of one day becoming a princess, and similarly to most children, you’d lost the fallacy as you grew older. You took care of your own, fed your family, and did what you could to help the realm. 

Then the war began. 

Suddenly, it wasn’t enough to keep your head down and tend to the failing farm. Your brothers were enlisted, and you were petitioned as a battlefield medic. You’d been catapulted headfirst into a bloody conflict, and been ripped through the wringer as men died beneath your watch. You mourned each one, knowing there were countless more corpses that were beyond saving on the fields beyond the canvas flaps of your tent. 

Robb liked to say it was your undying compassion that drew him to you. 

It was under the cover of a balmy winter night that you confessed to him. Some of the men had been away from their families- their wives- for months and had become a bit… rough with some of the nurses. It ventured differently for all types- some demanded kisses to make their wounds heal faster, some came onto you outright, grabbing and fondling. 

You watched as he shifted from concern to silence in a matter of seconds, then watched anger flicker in his eyes. 

“If this happens again, come straight to me. I’ll sort this out, I promise.” He cemented this promise with a soft kiss to your hairline, pulling you closer to his chest. 

As it turned out, he would be fulfilling his promise much sooner than he expected. There was no great battle, no influx of wounded, simply those who were injured to greatly to move about the camp. 

One of these men, a Karstark soldier whose name you’d yet to learn was the worst of your troubles. He continually goaded you about your relationship with Robb, asking invasive questions about your relationship in the bedroom, asking if you liked it rough, asking whether or not the ‘Young Wolf’ lived up to his reputation. 

You felt your face flush red as two of your coworkers snickered, listening in on your mumbled responses. “I don’t think it’s any of your business what happens in my-” You gasped as you felt the an abrasive hand offer a firm squeeze to your backside. 

The man offered a toothy smile. “Lighten up, love, I was just teasing.”

As it turned out, Robb Stark was always on guard to defend your honor. 

Now, Robb was as honorable as his father, and the subject of maiming a man unable to defend himself was a topic that he shied away from. It wasn’t a reputation he wanted. But in that moment, when - in passing- he heard that comment through the thin walls of the tent, he was ready to start another fucking war. His sword was out of his sheath in a moment, and in a blind rage he flew through the parted doors of the tent. Lunging for the bed, his Kingsguard only a half-step behind. “What did you say? What the fuck did you say?” It took two Kingsguard agents to keep him from ending the man’s life right there. He still managed to throw a solid punch, practically foaming at the mouth as he caught sight of you, frightened and embarrassed by the theatrics. It was only when you quickly fled the tent that he gave pause. 

The two nurses had begun to scream at the shock, and had distanced themselves from the scene. 

Robb shook off the guards, and grabbed hold of the man’s collar, leaning in and flashing a murderous expression. “If you ever touch her again, I’ll blind you.” Then his quick footsteps followed you out. He caught hold of your arm, and recoiled as you slipped out of his grip. “Are you alright?”

Rubbing your arms against the cold, you didn’t turn to face him yet. “You didn’t have to make such a scene.” You murmured quietly, looking out over the pine ridges that spotted the northern encampment. “I can take care of myself.” 

Robb faltered. “I only meant to defend you.”

You turned, not angry, simply embarrassed and a bit remorseful. You stepped forward to caress his cheek with deft fingers. “He was a drunk.” You offered diffusely. “I can handle some things.” You pressed a soft kiss to his stubble, embracing him. “I promise, if I ever need your help, I’ll find you, okay?” 

He gave some semblance of a reassuring smile, and pulled you close to him. “You know I trust you, I just worry sometimes.”

You smiled back softly. “I know.” You peppered his jawline with kisses, dismissive of who was watching. “Next time, let’s tone down the dramatics, okay?” 

Robb only offered a grumble of begrudging defeat.