#imagininggameofthrones

[multifandomhaven]

“And if we station men here,” Jon continued, eyeing his companions, “then-”

"We’ll have them surrounded,” you finished with a smile. “Brilliant.”

“What d’you think, Tormund?” Jon asked the Wildling leader with a slight smirk. The fiery haired man hadn’t taken his eyes off you once during the meeting. “D’you think it’ll work?”

Tormund said nothing, his eyes glued to the neckline of your gown. The black fur that surrounded you had him enraptured. He had always known you were beautiful, and had vocalized it on many occasions, but that gown...

“Tormund,” Jon said again, this time a bit louder, and motioned to the map. “What do you think of the plan?”

Tormund, not adverting his eyes in the slightest, nodded. “Yes, that looks good.”

[thefanficfaerie]

Misc. Fandoms End of Year Reading List

Tropes

Daddy!Character Jack and Cuddles by @a-court-of-stydia Aaron Hotchner 

A/B/O Dynamics Love and Protected by @It-sammi-matthews John Kennex

Modern AU Holiday with the Starks by @meganlpie Robb Stark  Can I Be Him by @meganlpie Robb Stark Mac N Cheese by @urwarriorangel Robb Stark

Canon Saving Date Night by @of-badges-and-guns Jason Bull Always on My Mind by @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse  Gavin A Patient Man by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord Killian Jones His Raven by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord Killian Jones Cookie by @ohbelieveyoume Nevada Ramirez Take a Break by @imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul Bruce Wayne Can I Have This Dance by @whatif-animagineblog Arthur Pendragon You’re My Queen by @winchester-writes Arthur Pendragon A Queen for a King by @winchester-writes and @mrs-squirrel-chester Arthur Pendragon Home by @goingknowherewastaken Bernie Webber The Doctor and His Doll by @rauliskafan Frederick Chilton The Doctor and His Idiot by @captainsbabysitter-blog Chris Pike/Phil Boyce

NCIS  Dwayne Pride  I’m not losing you again by @mardi-gras-imagines Ah’m the King by @lucifersagents

Criminal Minds Aaron Hotchner Cell Phone by @ncis-criminalminds Christmas Morning by @ncis-criminalminds Nightmare by @criminallysupernatural Sugar by @kaunis-sielu Nothing Without You by @theunholygrails Blanket Fort by @crimindsaspe Wrapped Around by @traceyaudette

Lord of the Rings Eomer You are bound to me by @coyoteimagines  Apricots by @coyoteimagines Two by @coyoteimagines  Swordplay by @coyoteimagines Sweet Dreams by @musamortem  Bedtime by @atari-writes  A Guard of Gondor and A Rider of Rohan by @meganlpie A Union of Lands and Hearts by @imoutofmyvulcanmind Little Miracle by @karl-urban-imagines  Break Time by @locke-writes 

Almost Human John Kennex I Got You by @imoutofmyvulcanmind  Nightmares by @imoutofmyvulcanmind  Tick Tock by @imoutofmyvulcanmind  Let’s Play a Game by @imoutofmyvulcanmind Short Noodles by @eyeofdionysus  It Takes Practice by @It-sammi-matthews  Joy to the Kennex Boys by @It-sammi-matthews Afternoon Delight by @bkwrm523  NSFW The Dinner Date by @dolamrothianlady 

Game of Thrones Robb Stark Robb Stark Imagine by @letsasoiaftogether Queen of the North by @thatoneimaginesblog  Lion on Ice by @meganlpie  Make Her a Stark by @littlemisscaptainfandom  Just a Soldier by @wordsonearth  Promise by @asoiaf-winter-is-coming The Fears of a Father by @ladychloestark I Lost Our Baby by @showandwrite The Jealous Little Wolf by @perkqularkreashions  Tenderness by @swimmingbyrd Falling for the Enemy by @imagininggameofthrones A Queen & Her King by @a-game-of-words

Jon Snow Home by @certifiedskywalker Day In by @certifiedskywalker Yes or No by @urwarriorangel A Queen Protects by @perkqularkreashions Treason by @reader-imagines Little One by @rhaenyx

Wonder Woman Steve Trevor Unsinkable, Part 2 by @goingknowherewastaken Change is a Good Thing by @goingknowherewastaken The Night We Met by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord   Don’t Let Me Go Tonight by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord Gone by @blossombarnes 

[multifandomhaven]

“M’lady,” Podrick bowed his head as you entered the room. How long had it been since you’d laid eyes on your brother’s former squire?

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Podrick. How’ve you been?”

“Better now, m’lady,” he answered quickly, his hands behind his back. “Have you been well?”

You nodded. “I have, and please, call me Y/N. How long have we known each other?”

“Several years, m’lady. I squired for your brother -”

“Then should we not be on a first name basis by now, Podrick?” You cut him off quickly. 

“M’lady, what happened before I left... it shouldn’t have happened. I should have stopped it.”

 “It pleased me,” you whispered. “You please me.”

“We can’t,” he said quietly. Sadly. “You know we can’t.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and nearly stamped your foot at his words. “Why not?”

“You’re a Lady!” Podrick said in a half whisper, half shout. “You’re a blasted Lannister. I’m only a squire.”

“A squire I’ve come to care about greatly, and I know you care about me, too,” you shot back. “Do you not want me to be happy? Have a good life? One that I choose, not one that my family chooses for me?”

“And you would choose me? I’m only just learning how to fight, m’lady. If we ever - I wouldn’t be able to protect you. And if we had children-”

“You saved Tyrion. I believe in you, Podrick.” Your voice had lowered to a whisper.

Podrick looked down. “I’m sorry.”

You stepped forward angrily and grabbed him by his collar, pulling him down to your height. “Stop me if you don’t want this.”

You waited for a moment, giving him every opportunity to pull away, then raised up and kissed him. It lasted for only a moment, just as it had last time, but it filled you with pure joy.

When you pulled back you looked at the man before you, his eyes still closed. You could tell he was debating something. Your grip on his collar loosened and you stood a bit straighter.

“I thought you-”

“Have it your way, then.” Podrick grabbed you and held you tight against him. It was the first time he’d ever touched you first, and you feared your heart would stop. He leaned in and captured you in a kiss that threatened to burn your lips. You smiled into the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck.

You’d done it, you’d finally gotten your squire.

[multifandomhaven]

Requested by whatshernamemaria

You stood beneath the the heart tree outside the gates of Winterfell with an entire congregation beside you. 

Ramsay had convinced Jon to come, not knowing what would transpire when he arrived, to earn the favor of the North Ramsay had penned in his letter. To save Sansa.

“You can’t do this,” Jon tried to reason with you. “Please.”

You shook your head, tears in your eyes. “Jon, I have to. He’ll kill us all if I don’t. Come back for me, for your home.”

“I’ll get you back,” Jon promised. He placed a kiss to the back of both your hands. “By the Old Gods, I will get you back.”

You nodded and sniffed, looking back at the Bolton bastard. “I know you will.”

[multifandomhaven]

Desire

Oberyn Martell x reader

Requested by anon

Sorry I’ve been absent for so long, guys! I’ve been fighting tonsillitis and the flu but I’m recovering now so hopefully I can get back into the swing of things!

It hadn't taken long for the Dornish prince to catch your eye.

At first it had been his colorful, silk garments, but it was when his lips parted when you had become completely enraptured with him. His voice was as soft and luscious as the clothing that adorned him, and the way his eyes followed your every move - it was almost scandalous.

"I realized that I have failed to make your acquaintance, my dear," he spoke one day as you passed by. At first you hadn't thought he had spoken to you, you were a simple handmaiden to a noble in King's Landing for the wedding of King Joffrey. Your footsteps faltered momentarily before you came to a complete stop and turned to face him, your breath hitched in your throat.

You felt your eyebrows raise. "I-Is it me you're speaking to, my prince?"

The Red Viper laughed heartily. "Of course it is," he smiled. "I have seen none more beautiful in this city. Where have they kept you hidden?"

Your face flushed. "I-I'm a handmaiden, my prince, no one special."

"Come now, that I doubt," he flashed another bright smile. "Your name."

"Y/N Rivers," you told him, a pang of shame shooting through your veins.

Oberyn clicked his tongue. "Ah, a bastard."

You ducked your head, your eyes searching the ground beneath you. "Y-Yes, my prince."

"Being a bastard is nothing to warrant such shame," the man spoke lightly. He reach out his hand, which was surprisingly cold even in the heat of King's Landing, and tilted you head up so you could look into his dark eyes. "You were born of passion, not of politics - there is no better way to enter this world."

You swallowed hard, your heart nearly beating out of your chest. "Your words are kinder than what I'm used to, my prince. Thank you."

"Come to my chambers this night, my dear, and I will show you exactly how kind I can be," Oberyn boldly requested.

Your face and neck burned violently. "M-My prince, you honor me, but I must decline. My duty is to my lady - if I am not there when I'm needed..."

Oberyn smiled once again, his hand sliding down to grip your hand in his. "Do not let this city destroy you, Y/N Rivers. There are far too few beautiful things in this world."

He brought your hand to his lips, pressing a firm kiss to it. "It was my pleasure to make your acquaintance, my dear, but I fear I must make my leave."

"Enjoy your stay, my prince," your voice nearly failed you.

Oberyn winked and then turned to leave. "You are welcome to find me whenever you desire."

[multifandomhaven]

If You’ll Have Me

Robb Stark protects you from Joffrey.

Requested by: lachicadelamanzana

You overslept the day King Robert finally graced the gates of Winterfell. You rolled out of your bed as quickly as you could and changed into a cleaner pair of dark breeches and boots before slipping into a nicer, dark blue tunic. With haste you pulled your hair over one shoulder and secured it into a braid and ran out to begin your duties once more.

There were people gathered around the courtyard, packed tightly to get a glimpse of their king and his family. You weren't inclined to lay eyes on the royals, they were people just like you and your family - and from what you'd heard they were rather a despicable crowd of people. If the rumors that swirled about the queen and her twin brother were true... You shuddered to think what would happen if someone were to hear your thoughts.

You watched from the outside of the stables, not to get a look at golden heads or the fat king and his army, but to see the man that had occupied your thoughts of late.

You watched as King Robert shook Robb's hand - he looked the part of Lord of Winterfell with his strong arms and piercing gaze, but you knew that his mind was his best weapon. Over the crowd of people Robb caught your eye and a large, boyish smile overtook his face. He winked at you, his blue eyes shining with mirth. You thought your hair might spark fire if it touched your face, but you smiled at him anyway, then ducked your head and went into the stables. You got to work at once, brushing and feeding and exercising the horses with your gentle care.

Once you finished with House Stark's steeds you sat on a bale of hay to rest for a moment. You closed your eyes and leaned against the wooden beam behind you, listening to the horses eat and play.

"Y/N," Robb greeted, dressed handsomely in his dark furs. "Are you well today?"

"I am, thank you, my lord." You looked him over, blushing. "And you?"

Robb grinned up at you. "I am much better now that I'm with you."

You felt your stomach flip and held in the giggle that threatened to pass your lips - you'd never felt like more of a love-struck maiden in all your life. "You are too kind, my lord."

"Now, what I have I told you about -"

Just then the swooping sound of rustling fabric and the clinking of armor cut you off. You both turned to see the source of the interruption - one of the golden haired bastards standing in the doorway of the stables. The prince's hair was cropped short and his eyes bore straight through you. His thin lips twisted into a frown and he stepped forward. Behind him was a large man, scarred and angry looking. You remembered him sitting atop a large, black courser in the courtyard - it was The Hound.

"If I caught my stable boy sitting upon his arse instead of doing his duties I'd have him whipped through the streets," the you prince seethed, pointing at you. "And you! How dare you not bow in the presence of your prince, wench?"

Your eyes widened and you quickly knelt, your head bowed. You'd heard of his wrath and did not want to face it yourself. "My apologies, Prince Joffery."

The boy spat on the ground beside you, his hands on his hips. "I do not need your apologies, stable girl. Lord Robb, should I have my father made aware of her insolence? I could have her punished."

Robb glared at the Prince, his blue eyes caught fire. "There is no need for that, my Prince," his words were poison. "She is a friend, and she has finished her duties as you can well see. I have only come to invite her to the feast as my honored guest."

Your head shot up, but you remained knelt on the ground. "My lord.."

"Y/N, if you will do me the honor?"

Joffery snarled. "You could have your pick of any woman in this frozen wasteland and you pick her? The cheapest whores in King's Landing look better."

"Then have yourself one of your whores, Prince Joffery," Robb barked. "And I will have Y/N."

Joffery said nothing, he simply turned on his heel and stalked out of the stables, his face a horrible, blotchy red. The large man stood there for a moment, his eyes raking over you both before he, too, turned to leave.

"You will cause such trouble for me?" You asked quietly. "The Prince won't take kindly to your suggestions."

"I go to war for you." Robb said gently, and held out his hand for you to take. You grasped it and he raised you from the ground. You stood straight and he kept your hand still clutched tightly in his. "I meant what I said, Y/N. If you'll have me."

You swallowed tightly and your heart beat wildly against your chest. "Why me?"

"Because you are the most beautiful thing I've seen in all my years. Because you are the most gentle person I've ever met," Robb began to list his reasons. "And because you make me happier than all the glory and gold in the world could. I would like nothing more for you to be by my side as the Lady of Winterfell when it falls to me."

Tears filled your eyes, but you smiled all the same. "You honor me, my lord."

Robb's grip tightened on your hand. "Say you will."

"B-But," You began to protest, but Robb cut you off by closing the space between you. He bent down slightly, pressing his lips to yours and for a moment you thought you might explode. His kiss was as soft and warm as you had imagined. His hands were gently running up and down the length of your back, pulling you even closer against him. As quickly as it had happened, the kiss was over.

Robb cupped your face in his large hands, his eyes boring into your own. "I will make you the happiest woman in all of Westeros, Y/N. I swear it."

"You already have," you breathed.

[multifandomhaven]

Death of a Flower

Cersei Lannister x Jaime Lannister x daughter!reader (Not a romantic imagine)

Request by whatshernamemaria

Happy reading! Requests are open x

Your mother hadn't left your bedside in days.

Her long, beautiful hair that was usually pulled into intricate braids and time-consuming styles had long since fallen to hang limply around her shoulders and down her back in lifeless waves. It no longer resembled molten gold, instead it looked to you like faded hay, left in the sun too long to rot. It did not suit her, you thought sadly as you beheld your mother in your last moments, it was not the image of Cersei Lannister, the strongest woman you'd ever known.

Her warm hand clutched your own, her long, slender fingers desperately trying to rub the warmth back into your own. She smoothed back your hair with a gentle touch, her eyes holding more emotion that you'd ever seen in them, and it was then that you came to terms with what was happening.

You were sick. Dying.

You weren't scared of death, per se, only of the unknown of what happens after this life.

If the seven hells were real you were sure you wouldn't go there. You weren't like your younger brother, Joffrey - he would surely burn for the crimes he'd committed, even at such a young age.

No, you believed you'd be welcomed into the seven heavens where your mother assured you your grandmother would be waiting to welcome you. You had wondered, in your delirious sleep, what Joanna Lannister looked like - she had to be beautiful for your grandfather to marry for love instead of politics.

It didn't matter, it wouldn't be long until you finally met.

A harsh coldness overtook your body, seeping down past your skin and laying to rest in your very bones. It seemed that no matter the amount of sunlight that streamed through the window by your bed, the heat of King's Landing could do nothing to warm your clammy skin. Your fingertips and lips had begun to turn blue, and your shivering hadn't ceased for two nights.

"Are you in pain, my flower? I can call for the maester to bring you milk of the poppy." Your mother's hand brushed your cheek. "I do not wish for you to hurt."

You blinked slowly, feeling so very tired. "No, mother. I do not feel pain. I only feel exhausted."

Cersei's lips quivered. "I know you're tired, my love. But if you could just hold on a just a little while longer - we have Archmaester Ebrose coming from the citadel. He may be able to cure you."

"I don't want to," you admitted.

Your broken whisper finally broke the dam that had built in your mother's eyes. She flung herself onto the cot you lay on. Her heartbreaking cries echoed off the walls of your chambers. She laid her head down beside your entwined hands, her chest heaving with breaths that couldn't escape her fast enough, and finally she allowed herself to truly weep for her lost child.

This wasn't right, you thought as you watched the Lioness herself lay by your side and bawled. Your mother was strong, she was Queen of the Seven Kingdoms - she wasn't this whimpering woman that lay before you now. Shame burrowed itself deep in your chest, the guilt for reducing your mother to this sobbing heap clawing at your insides like a rabid animal.

You took a page from your mother's book and used what energy you had left to place your hand on the back of her head. You were too tired to stroke her hair like she had done for you, but you could still speak to her.

"It's alright now, Mother," you whispered gently, a single tear escaped your eye and you made no move to wipe it away. "We've had a good life together, me and you. Please, tell my brothers and sister that I love them so very much. Will you do that for me?"

Cersei's raised her head and your hand fell limply back onto the cot beside you. "Of course I will, flower. And you know that they love you too."

"Of course I do," you replied softly. "And Uncle Jaime," your eyes felt so heavy. "Tell him I'm glad he's my father. Tell him I'm glad I wasn't the product of a bitter old drunk."

"My firstborn," Cersei whimpered, standing over your bed. She pressed her forehead softly to your own, her tears falling from her cheeks and onto your face. "Always too smart for her own good."

Their oldest child went that night as the sun turned to the moon. Cersei had sat with her child as the Archmaester searched her over, saying nothing as he left the room, no doubt going to speak with Jaime who stood just outside Y/N's chamber doors. She could hear their muffled voices through the door, but paid them no mind, instead she sat and stared at Y/N's beautiful face for as long as she could. She never wanted to forget a single feature.

The door opened behind her, but Cersei made no move to turn. She knew it was her brother who'd entered the room.

Behind her Jaime stood as still as a statue, breathing through the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. It felt like the breath had been knocked from his lungs when he saw his daughter's lifeless body that cot. He licked his bottom lip and stepped forward slowly, watching his sister rub the girl's cold arm unconsciously.

"She's gone," Cersei whispered, her eyes never leaving her dead child. "My poor little flower is gone."

"Our little girl," he said sadly as he finally stood by Cersei's side. "Our princess."

Cersei, having long since cried the final tears her eyes would allow, bowed her head. "What has the Archmaester said?"

"Natural causes," Jaime said as he bowed by his daughter's bedside.

Cersei snorted angrily. "Natural causes? She's a child, Jaime. No child dies of natural causes."

Jaime's hand had found the back of Y/N's hand and he flinched from how cold she'd gone in just a few hours. "What else could it have been, my love? She's watched after day and night. She is loved by the common people, she-"

"She was loved by all but one," Cersei said dangerously low. "There was one person who had told me many times they wish she'd never been born."

Jaime's brow furrowed. He lifted his gaze from his daughter and onto his lover. "Are you implying what I think you are?"

"Joffrey wants a throne," Cersei whispered. "He desires it more than anything. You know that as well as I. Y/N was in the way, and now she's gone."

Jaime's spine felt like lead. It was plausible. The boy was more sadistic than most he'd met, save the Mad King. "What do you propose we do?"

Cersei inclined her head slightly. "We must bury our daughter," she said quietly. "And then try to save Joffrey from the fate he's brought upon himself."

[multifandomhaven]

Falling for the Enemy

requested by linakay98

Robb Stark x reader

You were terrified. The men that captured you beat against the bars of your cage with sticks, laughing and calling out to you with words that stung you to your very core. Your arms were bound to a post behind you and you'd long stopped trying to wiggle yourself free - it was no use, it only bloodied your wrists further.

"S' Kingslayer fucking you too?," a man taunted from the shadows. "Couldn't much blame him if he was with that pretty face ya got. Better than your sister's, that's for sure."

Jaime had threatened the man's life, only for the man to lunge toward him with clenched fists. Jaime's head snapped back with the harsh blows to his face, and you begged the man to stop. You begged your brother to stop, too. Just let them say what they will, you had told him, they were only words. Your tears had long been cried out, and now you simply sat slumped against the wooden post up your back.

"What are we going to do?" You asked, looking at your brother's bruising face. "They'll kill us, Jaime."

Jaime sighed and shook his head, his green eyes on yours. "They won't. The Stark girls are still in King's Landing, we will be traded for them. Do not worry yourself, little sister."

"I will not be bargained for." You wanted your brother to grab your hands like he always did when you were upset, but it was a fruitless thought. He was tied tighter to the post than you were. "I am worth nothing - I'm a bastard! Father will let me die while you live. I will be starved and raped and beaten-"

"Y/N, look at me! I won't let them have you, alright? Robb Stark hasn't arrived yet. He likely doesn't know you're here. If he's anything like his father he'll have more honor than he does brains - he won't let a woman sit in filth and starve. I'll give myself for you if I must. Do not worry."

"No!" You begged him. "If I don't die here and you give yourself up I will be hanged in King's Landing. If not by Father's hand then Cersei will have me killed. You can't, Jaime, please!"

"It will not come to that," Jaime promised in a quick whisper. "Don't draw any unneeded attention."

You nodded and closed your eyes, and tried to calm yourself like Tyrion had taught you when you were kids - deep breaths in through the nose, and out through the mouth. You repeated this like a prayer, and it wasn't long before you felt yourself falling into a dark, dreamless sleep.

Robb's gait began to slow when he saw the cage, a cold fury burned within him. He was so close the man who'd had his father captured and ultimately killed that his hand itched to grab the sword at his waist. Would he kill him, Robb wondered, if he opened his mouth to taunt him? He would feel like it, but he had more restraint than that. He had to have restraint if he were to get his sisters home.

Grey Wind growled darkly beside him, the fur raising on the back of his neck.

"Shh, boy," Robb said quietly, his hand on the great beast's back. "We've got him now."

Robb could hear something that sounded like crying. He furrowed his brow, a small smile coming to his lips.

Was the Kingslayer weeping like a bloody woman? The boy that still lived inside Robb wished to gather everyone in camp to let them see, but the man inside that stepped up when his father died kept him walking forward.

But no, Robb thought when he stopped in front of the muddy cage, that couldn't be right. It wasn't a man's cry that he was hearing. It sounded feminine. Broken.

In the moonlight he could then see that the Kingslayer wasn't the only person tied up inside the cage. Much to Robb's disappointment, Jaime Lannister wasn't the one crying. Attached to a post beside the man was a woman, smaller than the Kingslayer, and much more haggard. Her head was hung down to her chest, and Robb could see her shoulders shaking.

"Who are you?" Robb asked, his voice still that of a King, when he got close enough for the woman to hear.

She jumped, but looked up through her matted hair, her bloodshot eyes reaching his. The trail her tears had tracked shone in the light of the moon, and somewhere in his chest Robb's heart broke a bit for her. Robb thought that if it were under different circumstances, and after she'd had a bath or two, he might have found the woman attractive.

"Y/N Hill," the girl answered quietly, her raspy voice broken. His fingers nearly went for his canteen of water on his belt, but decided against it - too many people would see. He didn't think people would follow a king who so easily gave in to his prisoner's needs. He steeled himself with a deep breath and stood straighter, looking deep into her eyes.

"And what are you doing locked up in there with Jaime Lannister?" Robb asked hotly.

The girl breathed through her tears. "I would assume it's because I'm his sister."

"You're Tywin's bastard?" Robb asked quietly.

"Yes, Stark," came her brother's voice beside her. Robb watched the girl jump, clearly thinking he was asleep. The Kingslayer motioned to his sister with his head. "Is this how the Northmen treat women, then? Tie her up and leave her to rot without a proper trial? She had nothing to do with your father's execution. She was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time, this time and last."

Grey Wind growled threateningly at the Lannister, but Robb ordered him to sit. The great direwolf did as commanded, but never took his eyes off Jaime Lannister.

"You have some guts talking back to a King in you position, Kingslayer," Robb sneered. "But you're right. I don't treat women this way." Robb turned to the girl in ropes beside him, "I'll have the guards untie you. You will stay inside a tent, and no harm will come to you. I've will send word to your father that you are here and safe. We will trade you for my sisters when the time comes."

Robb turned on his heel and walked away, barking orders at one of the guards to cut the girl loose.

After you were sent to a tent, one very close to the King's own, you were allowed a bath and a change of clothes. The Northmen had no dresses or any of the pretty clothes you were used to, you were simply given a tunic and a pair of trousers much too large for you, not that you minded - you felt better knowing that you didn't smell of your own waste anymore.

It had been many weeks since you'd been taken out of your cage, and you were still terrified. You'd heard what happened to women who were taken as prisoners - they were raped, beaten within an inch of their lives. Some got away with the promise of gold or some sort of wealth in return, or because of their House's prominence.

You had no name to lean on. You were a Hill of Casterly Rock, conveniently born to a Lannister father.

You were going to die in a camp with the enemy, you thought, your mind racing in the dark. You felt your breath seize in your chest and your eyes began to water just like every night before. You didn't want to die here! You were still so young, you wanted to travel the Seven Kingdoms, you wanted-

"Shh, shh, shh." A voice quieted you. You felt a hand on your shoulder, and you backed away as quickly as you could. "I'm not going to hurt you. You're alright."

"P-Please," you begged sadly. "Don't."

A lantern was lit and you watched as Robb Stark's face was illuminated by the light of the fire. It was the first night he'd come into his tent by himself, and it scared you more than you were willing to admit. You'd had conversations with the King in the North. He'd even allowed you to speak to your brother on occasion.

"You're alright," Robb promised again, his blue eyes watching you sadly. "I won't hurt you, you have my word."

You nodded your head and bit your lip to keep it from quivering. For some reason, whether it was his kind eyes or sincere smile, you truly believed the King in the North. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry for what's happened," Robb started, easing toward you to show you he meant no harm. He sat at the edge of your cot, watching you carefully. "You weren't at Winterfell when the rest of your family came?"

You shook your head. "No. Cersei and my father thought it would be disrespectful for me to come."

"Where were you when my father was murdered?" Robb asked again, the hint of a fire in his eyes. "Did you try to stop it?"

"I was there. Everyone was there," you admitted, your words thick in your throat. "My nephew is a gruesome boy. Nothing I could have said would've changed what happened, my lord. He would have had me beaten, and then my head would have been on a pike along with your fathers had I uttered a word."

Robb nodded slowly, taking in your words. "My mother and I have spoken. We've come to the agreement that if your father doesn't return the girls to us alive and healthy we are going to kill the Kingslayer."

Your hand shot up to your mouth to muffle your cries. "P-Please-"

"No harm will come to you," Robb promised again. "I have made that clear to my men as well as my mother. Should we kill your brother you will be sent to Winterfell. You will stay there under my protection, not as a prisoner, but as a guest of the King in the North."

"You don't understand," you begged him still, "if you kill Jaime then my father will kill me! He will send forces to Winterfell just for revenge on his son's death. If I do not beg for his life then mine will end. Jaime will carry on the Lannister name, my father will release him of his Kingsguard duty and have him married off. I have nothing to offer my family."

Robb watched you come apart before his eyes and wondered sadly if you'd ever been given a choice on anything. Against his better judgment, he went with what his heart told him to do, and grabbed your hand in his own. "I won't let that happen."

"Why do you care about what happens to a prisoner of war? Your prisoner?"

Robb offered a small smile. "It doesn't happen often."

"I don't expect my father to write you back on my behalf," you told him suddenly, your hand unconsciously tightening around his larger one. "If my father agrees to trade your sisters for my brother then I will go to Winterfell. I will serve you as you see fit, but please let my brother live."

Robb's eyes were downcast. "He killed my father. He and your sister would see the rest of my family slaughtered if it please them. I can make no promises, Y/N, other than the one to keep you safe. Like you said earlier, it's not very often that a King spares his prisoners of war. It seems you've began to melt this icy heart of mine."

You felt his thumb run over the back of your hand softly. "My King, are you falling for the enemy?"

"I fear I could be," Robb admitted quietly. "Would I be mad to think it could be returned?"

Your heartbeat sped up slightly, but you answered him anyway. "I know not."

"When the war is over, we could marry. Give you a proper last name and a proper title." Robb told you with a wolf's smile. "You could be a Queen, Y/N. Better than your sister or your nephew or anyone else that befalls the Iron Throne."

"My King," you whispered in disbelief, "is this truly your desire? To marry a bastard you hardly know?"

Robb chuckled. "My mother and father did not know each other when they were wed, and they grew to love one another fiercely. We could do the same, maybe even know more than the love they shared. I could give you anything your heart desired, Y/N."

"If I agree," you whispered, still shocked at his admission, "you could not kill your future brother by marriage. You would be called kinslayer."

"And your family if they slay my sisters."

Your eyes lit up, and for the first time since you'd been captured you truly felt hope. "My King, marry me now."

"What?" Robb's eyes were wide, but his smile was even more so. "You've come to terms with the proposal rather quickly."

You nodded quickly. "Yes! We will wed now, and I will write my father. I will be Queen in the North! He will not attack his own daughter, bastard or not. I will demand he send your sisters home as I send Jaime back to King's Landing. Your sisters returned will by my dowry, and Jaime will go to send the happy news."

Robb sat there silently, his eyes boring into yours. "Aye. We will marry with the sunrise. We will send a raven after the ceremony."

"You are a good King," you told him quietly. "You have just saved thousands of lives."

"Our marriage will save my sisters," Robb smiled. "It will save your brother. Most of all it will make me a happy man."

A/N: And they lived happily ever after. They all went back to Winterfell and the Queen had all kinds of babies. :) No red wedding! That's my version anyway. Happy times with the Starks ALIVE AND TOGETHER!

[multifandomhaven]

My Lady

For this I've combined two requests:

Hi! Can you do a Jon snow x reader where the reader and Jon Snow were in love, but he had to go to the night's watch and she later became a captive of Ramsay Bolton (like Sansa). Ramsay baits her to Jon, and then they reunited at the end of the Battle of the Bastards. This is kinda detailed, so I understand if u can. Thanks!

Requested by: hiphorann

and

Jon snow super angst with a fluffy ending! Pls!

Requested by: Anon

Jon watched you with a sadness in his eyes.

"Please, Jon, reconsider for me." You begged desperately, clutching onto the black furs that he now wore with pride.

Jon winced and lay his hand on yours. "I've made my decision. Y/N, I'll never have a life here. I'm the Bastard of Winterfell. At least at the Wall I'll be known as something more than Lord Stark's mistake."

"You're more than that to me, Jon - you're everything to me. We can leave, go somewhere far away, wherever you want to go. Just us."

Jon wanted to, he truly did, but what kind of life could he give you away from the security of Winterfell? He was a good swordsman, he knew, but if he left his home for another he'd just be another man looking for work. A bastard isn't given a choice.

"I'm sorry," Jon said again, this time with finality. His chest was heaving and his eyes hard. "I'm sorry, Y/N."

Tears finally sprang from your eyes and a harsh sob tore from your throat. "Don't you know I love you?" You'd asked him through your tears.

"Of course I know," Jon whispered, bringing his hand to your cheek. "And I you."

You shook your head. "Then why are you leaving me?"

"I must do this, Y/N."

Your sorrow was rapidly being replaced by betrayal and anger. You shoved his hand away from your face with a sneer. Why did everyone you love go away? 

"Then go, join your Night's Watch. Leave your family and leave me." You turned on your heel to leave, unable to look upon his face any longer.

"Y/N," Jon groaned. "Don't leave us like this-"

You stopped, but never turned. "There could've been an us, but there is no longer."

Jon watched you weave through the crowd that had gathered, some looking and others going about their normal routines. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned his head slightly to see his Uncle watching him with a saddened expression.

"She'll find love, my boy, do not fret. The hardest part is over, we must leave now."

Jon nodded, but stood in place for a few moments longer. "Goodbye, my love."

You sat in a small room, watching the snow fall from the grey skies. You were scared, you’d been scared for as long as you could remember. It was only a matter of time before you, like so many before you, met the wrath of Ramsay Bolton.

Behind you, the door opened. Sansa grabbed onto you, her blue eyes boring into yours. "Come, Y/N, we're leaving."

Your mind began to race. No, no, you couldn't leave. Ramsay's dogs - they'd find you. They'd kill you.

"We can't - we can't," you wheezed. "He'll find us, Sansa. The hounds."

Sansa stood straighter. "If I am to die, then I will die while there is still some of me left. I will not die in my own home as a shell of who I once was." She grabbed your hand and held it tight. "I grew up with you. As a girl you were strong, stronger than I ever hoped to be, and look at you now. Ramsay's hurt you, used you. But he has not broken you. Come with me and we will have a chance to begin anew. We may live, but if we stay here, Y/N, we are sure to die."

You stared at her with tears in your eyes. "I can't. I can't. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Sansa looked at you without emotion and said nothing more. She simply left and you let her.

Later that night when Ramsay had returned he was angry. He was so very angry, but he knew better than to have you killed at once.

"They will come for you," he chuckled, his icy eyes dancing. "Oh yes, they will come for you and then I will have them both. Come, darling, and write your bastard a letter."

Jon looked at his sister with confusion. "You wish to go back there?"

"It's our home," Sansa said, shaking Ramsay's letter in her hand. "It will always be our home, and he's there with his flayed man banners. We must take it back."

"I'm tired of fighting, Sansa," Jon said quietly. He looked down onto the scarred table. "I've fought all these years, and I'm tired."

Sansa shook her head lightly. "I will reclaim our home with or without you. I will rescue Rickon and Y/N."

Jon's shoulders sagged upon hearing her name. "Has he harmed her?"

"He harmed us all." Sansa's voice was thick, but her eyes never strayed from the letter. "And he will kill her if we do nothing."

Jon sighed heavily and closed his eyes. He couldn't leave her there, his love. He'd left her once and regretted it every day since.

"We will fight."

The battle was long and bloody, and when you saw Ramsay ride back through the gates on his horse you feared the worst. Had Jon fallen? Had he died?

The guard that held you tightened his grip, but as painful as it was you couldn't tear your thoughts away from Jon.

"Hold her," Ramsay ordered quickly, rushing over to get his bow and arrows.

You were pushed down onto your knees in the snow and mud. The guard grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled tightly, his other hand producing a dagger and pressing it into the skin of your throat. The blade bit into your neck and you closed your eyes tightly.

"If you fight me you will die," he hissed into your ear.

There were a series of harsh thuds against the gates and you wondered what the outside forces were using to penetrate Winterfell's legendary defenses. You didn't have to ponder for long, however, because suddenly a large monster of a hand broke through. The archers fired it it's giant fist, but it's assault continued. It broke through the door like it was nothing more than than a splinter.

The large creature charged through the gate like a bull, it's great head down and it's shoulders clenched. It's breaths left like the winds of a storm. Arrows were stabbed into the large thing from every angle, and more continued to pelt it, but it was Ramsay that killed it with an arrow to the eye. It fell to the ground with a ground shaking thud.

Your eyes searched the men that ran into the gates, and it was then you saw him. Bloody and heaving and weary from battle. He'd grown different in the time he'd been gone, but you'd know him anywhere.

"You did suggest one on one combat." You heard from in front of you. Ramsay stood with his arms out, challenging Jon. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea."

Jon looked around at Ramsay's forces and, when he got to you, he stalled. He barred his teeth and glared at Ramsay with a look of pure rage. He rushed forward and grabbed a Bolton shield, holding it before him. Ramsay fired arrow after arrow, and Jon simply continued toward him. Once he was in reach of Ramsay he knocked the bow from his hands and delivered a sharp blow to his chest with the tip of the shield.

A gurgle came from behind you and you felt the weight of the man with the dagger to your throat sag against your back. A hand quickly pushed him away and grabbed you, pushing you behind him - a wildling, you could tell by his garb, with wild red hair and a beard to match. You held onto his arm tightly, the stress and fear weighing you down instantly.

"Hold onto me, girl," the man said, his speech slightly broken. He nodded in front of them. "It'll all be over soon."

You opened your mouth to tell him you felt faint, but no words left you. The last thing you remember a voice behind you telling someone to catch you.

Jon sat by your bedside solemnly, his eyes looking over you. He'd requested that you be taken to his room, and that you be cleaned and checked for every possible injury.

The bruises that were left on you sickened him, and he wished that he could relive the end of the battle once more, this time granting Bolton no mercy. He sighed and took your hand in his. He thought back on the time he'd taken you down to the small opening in the Godswood and kissed you for the first time, how small your hand felt in his on the walk back to the castle.

He had never as happy as he had on that day, the way you looked at him - as if he were something more than a bastard.

"At least you still look better than everyone else while you brood."The statement shocked Jon out of his memories.

The corner of his lips twitched, but he never smiled. He rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand as gently as he could. "It's good to see you, Y/N."

You clicked your tongue and shook your head. "I thought I'd never see you again, Jon Snow, and yet here you are to save me again."

"I'd save you a thousand times over," Jon whispered lightly. "How d'you feel?"

You were quiet for a few moments, your eyes searching his. You'd missed his dark brown eyes, it seemed like everyone else's were dulled in comparison. "I missed you. I missed you so much."

Jon hung his head. "I should have stayed. If I could go back I would stay and we would have gone wherever you wanted to."

You sighed. "There is no good in the choices that should have happened. We can only go forward from here."

"And where do you wish to go?" Jon asked quietly. "Do you wish to stay here? In a place where so many horrible things have happened to you?"

Your throat felt tight, and you did your best to swallow down the emotion that overwhelmed you. "I wish to stay with you."

Jon's eyes softened. "Then we will stay here. We will stay and rebuild and have the life you always wanted."

"I still love you, Jon." You admitted quietly. "I don't think I ever stopped."

Jon smiled. "And I never stopped loving you, Y/N. I don't think I could."

"Here we are, at the edge of the world, and it's almost as if we've gone back in time, isn't it?" You whispered. "Only now you're much more than a bastard. You're Lord of Winterfell now, Jon Snow, and all the realm is better for it."

"Lord of Winterfell," Jon breathed. "The Lord must have a Lady, Y/N."

"Sansa will be -"

Jon cut you off quickly. "Will you be my Lady?"

Your breath caught in your throat, but you nodded, tears shining in your eyes. "I've always been your lady, Jon Snow."

Jon leaned down, carefully, and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "And now you always will be."

[multifandomhaven]

A Mother’s Love

Robb Stark x reader

Requested by tayrae515

Also, guys, requests are open! Reader inserts and fanfictions. I am still working on The Warden’s Duty Ch 3 and I have another imagine in my inbox, so keep on the look out for those.

If you want to see anything for your favorite characters send it in! x

You were nearly asleep, the rhythmic sound of horse's hooves padding on the ground below you, the motion of the horse almost like a mother rocking her child. You leaned back further against the warm, fur covered chest behind you to get more comfortable. Your eyes felt heavy and you were tempted to let them finally close, knowing that the arms that encircled you would never allow you to fall.

"Y/N," Robb whispered, his head leaned down. His breath warmed the side of your neck, forcing an involuntary shiver to come over you. "We're nearly at camp now."

You nodded lazily and yawned, bringing a closed fist up to your mouth to smother the sound. "How long have we been riding?"

"Nearly a day," said Robb quietly. "Mother should have already arrived at The Twins by now. We will meet halfway - Gods willing she'll arrive with good news."

Lady Catelyn had gone to negotiate with Old Walder Frey. You knew from stories of him as a child he wouldn't be a pleasant man - you'd never heard a good tale about Late Lord Frey. You, too, prayed for good word to be sent.

"He would be a fool to refuse my King," you encouraged, a small smile on your face. "The old man will grant you passage, Robb. If not we'll beat his bald little head like a war drum and go through after."

A breathy laugh left fell from his lips, and you felt the scratch of his beard when he leaned closer and you felt his lips on teh shell of your ear. "Your tongue's grown sharper than my blade of late, Y/N."

"War does that, I suppose," you quipped. "As does sitting on a horse for hours on end."

"Aye," Robb chuckled. "I supposed it does."

Finally, long after night had fallen, you reached a place to make camp. Robb climbed down from the horse, then turned to lift you from the beast as if you weighed no more than a feather. His hands were strong, but firm on your waist, and he didn't release you until he was sure you had your footing. His warm hands ran from your shoulders to your elbows and then back again.

"We'll camp here for a few days, let our troops rest while Mother charms Lord Frey. You will be in my tent," Robb told her gently, "separate cots, if you wish it."

Your cheeks burned with the heat of a thousand fires. "What is your wish, my King?"

"My wish is for you to be safe and happy behind the walls of Winterfell," Robb admitted quietly.

You felt your shoulders drop - did he not want you here with him to witness his wins and help him recover from the losses of war?

"Oh," you breathed. You could find no other words.

Robb's smile lengthened as he continued to speak, his eyes glazed by an emotion you couldn't name. He was looking at you, but you suspected his mind had traveled back to his home.

 "My wish is for you to bear me many sons and daughters and sit beside me in our home, to grow old with me. Y/N Stark, Queen in the North."

You felt your throat tighten at his words, but could not fight the beaming smile that threatened to split your face. "Your wish is for us to wed?"

"Of course it is," Robb hummed.

You reached your hands up to his face, stroking his thick beard with the tips of your fingers. Tears collected in your eyes, and as hard as you tried to blink them away, a few found themselves down your cheeks. You lurched forward and Robb responded quickly, his arms wrapping themselves around you with vigor. Without a care as to who was watching you pressed your lips to his hungrily.

Robb tasted like pine, wild and enduring through even the roughest storms. His lips were what you imagined the feel of clouds would be like, soft and gentle with you, but you knew, like the rolling thunder, those lips could command the tens of thousands of men that followed them to slaughter any enemy that stood before them.

You felt a heat in your chest as he gripped you tighter, his gloved hand twisting itself in your hair, tugging the ends of if slightly. A groan left your throat, and when you heard it you pulled back slightly, embarrassed at your indecent behavior.

"Robb, I-"

Robb cut you off with another kiss, this one much shorter, but still the emotion lingered. "Stay with me this night, Y/N. Not as your King, but as your future husband."

Your breath failed you as your brain turned to mush. "I will."

Catelyn returned to camp late the next night, her heart heavy like a stone in her chest. She dismounted her horse and strode to the tent she knew her son was in, stopping when she heard the familiar laugh of a woman inside.

Y/N.

Catelyn had known the girl her whole life, and had even began to care for her. Robb was fond of her, she knew, and it made the words she had to say taste even saltier in her mouth. Catelyn swallowed down her nerves and called for Robb to meet her outside the tent.

It was only a few moments she had to wait, before her son came forth, his shirt thrown on haphazardly and his hair mussed. Catelyn knew what had happened and nearly cried.

"My son," she started. "We have been granted passage by way of The Twins."

Robb gleamed and Catelyn saw, for the first time since their journey started she saw true hope in his eyes. "Mother, I could never thank you enough."

"Robb, there were conditions to our passing," Catelyn admitted. "Lord Frey’s conditions were that if he let us pass you'd repay him by marrying one of his daughters."

Robb's smile faded considerably, slowly forming a deep frown to match Catelyn's own. "What?"

"I'm sorry, Robb. It was the only way."

Robb stared behind her into the dark before he began to pace, his hands moving to run through his hair. "Damn that Frey bastard," Robb whispered hotly.

Catelyn sighed. "Do you truly love her?"

"Y/N?"

Catelyn nodded shortly. "Yes, Y/N. Do you truly love her?"

"More than anything," Robb responded without a thought.

"Then I will marry one of his sons in your place." Catelyn stepped in front of Robb to stop his mindless wandering, her hands resting on his shoulders. "If it is her your heart truly desires then you shall have her."

"Mother, I can not ask you to do that! We will find another way, we have to-"

You felt horrible. It was your fault, you knew, as you listened to the hushed voices of Robb and his mother outside the tent.

Everyone had always said you were a stray, taken in by the pack, waiting on her place in the world instead of earning it like everyone else had.

You believed them now.

You knew what you had to do. Robb needed his mother - she was more experienced than you were in most things, knew more about wars and fighting. You'd never had to fight for anything in your life, Robb had done so for you since he'd made your acquaintance back in your youth.

I have to, you thought as you stood to your feet and readied yourself for what you were about to do - it was finally time to fight.

"I'll do it," you said as you stepped out of the tent. “I will marry a Frey boy.”

Robb and Catelyn both turned, matching looks of surprise on their faces.

"Y/N?" Catelyn said quietly. "Were you listening to us?"

You nodded, a bit ashamed. "I was. I will do it. You will not have to marry a Frey girl, Robb, nor you a Frey man, Lady Catelyn. I am young, a ward of a noble family who's raised me as their own. I will do it."

Robb shook his head with fever. "Absolutely not."

"Robb," you said desperately. "You are a king now. You must make decisions best for you kingdom. If you are tied to the Freys this early in your reign then you have no way to secure an even better alliance somewhere down the line with a marriage pact."

"I don't want to secure an alliance by marriage." Robb nearly begged. "I want to marry you."

"Oh my sweet boy," Catelyn said, her voice wavering and tired. She turned her sad eyes to Robb. "Let me do this, Robb. Please, let your mother take care of the only child left in her care. I can't do anything for Arya and Sansa until we get them back, and Bran's still at Winterfell with Rickon. You are here. And you are my son."

Robb's eyes glistened. "Mother..."

"Y/N," Catelyn turned to you. "Robb loves you. Let him love you as Ned has loved me. Do not marry a Frey boy. You are a true wolf, through and through. I only ask of you to watch over my sons, Bran and Rickon. And when the time comes look after Arya and Sana. Do me this and I will happily go in Robb's place."

You fell to your knees before her, your eyes filled with water. "Is this truly what my lady wishes?"

"It is." Catelyn said somberly.

You nodded, and Robb knelt to help you from the ground, his strong arms around you. He plucked you up and made sure you were steady before he released you and rushed to his mother, wrapping her in a tight hug.

Robb pulled back, holding his mother at arm's length. "What am I going to do without you?"

“Marry Y/N. Raise your sons and daughters as I have raised you. Be the king I know you are, and you will be just fine.” Catelyn leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the side of Robb’s head. “Your father would be proud.”

Robb’s lips twitched into a small smile. “I will make you proud too, Mother. I swear it.”

Catelyn smothed his hair down, a motherly tenderness in her eyes. “You already have.”

[multifandomhaven]

You had loved Robb Stark for as long as you could remember.

He had always been there for you - even as a child who always fell to skin her knee. He'd run over, wipe your tears and help you to your feet, sometimes going as far as evening carrying you until you insisted he put you down.

"You're alright," he'd coo in the middle of the night when you woke him from his sleep. He would wrap you in his arms, and his gentle voice always worked in quieting your fears. "You're alright, now."

As you grew into a young lady he was the one who chased off boys with horrid intentions. He'd gotten into quite a few scraps for you, then got the scolding of his life when Lady Catelyn finally realized what had happened. She chastised him, but Lord Eddard only smiled, proud of the man his son was becoming.

When his father died Robb did not turn to you for comfort. Instead he turned to his blade.

You'd found him that day hacking mercilessly at a tree's trunk, tears pouring from his Tully blue eyes like the rain from storm clouds. His face was twisted into a picture you wished you'd never have to see again, you feared that if you saw it again you would die of a broken heart. This person before you did not look like the Robb you knew. His face was red and blotchy, his teeth barred like a wolf in battle.

"Robb," you said gently, your feet planted firmly in place. "Robb, I'm so sorry."

He said nothing, only continued his beating on the tree, a growl far in the back of his throat.

You flinched, your chest tightening in sadness at the sight before you. Robb had always been so strong. The things people said or done to him rolled off his back like water, and yet there stood a man grown before you, reduced to the tears of a young boy. You understood, of course, you remembered when your own father had died - albeit not in such a horrific way.

You remembered what Robb had done when it were you - he'd grabbed onto and didn't let go until sleep claimed you. He wouldn't have stood there as you had and watch grief chip away at you. You desperately wanted to return the favor, to let him know hat you were there, but the sword in his hand made you nervous - you knew what happened to people with sadness in their heart, it clouded their minds.

What if he hurt you? Your fingers balled into fists as you realized your thoughts. Robb would never hurt me, you reminded yourself. Without another thought you stepped forward, leaving your worries behind you. You placed your hand on his shoulder and squeezed with a gentle pressure.

"Don't," came his voice finally. It sounded harsh and cracked with despair. "Y/N..."

You blinked back tears. He'd never spoke to you in words so full of rage, and although it was him hurting, his words wounded you to your core.

"Robb, please," you whispered. "Please don't close yourself off. Your father wouldn't have wanted-"

Robb turned sharply, his eyes wild. "My father wouldn't have wanted to die, Y/N. He wouldn't have wanted to leave my sisters in King's Landing. He wouldn't have wanted those damn Lannisters to have pushed Bran out of that window. He wouldn't-"

"I know," you cut him off softly. "A lot of bad things have happened. But, he'd want you to be happy. I knew Lord Eddard Stark, and I know that he valued his children above all else."

You watched in horror as his grip on the hilt of his sword tightened. Robb breathed through his nose, his eyes still wet with tears. Your gaze went back up to his face and you saw him watching you, his face nearly blank from emotion.

The sound of his sword clattering to the ground shocked you, and you jumped in spite of yourself.

Robb rushed forward and gathered you into a hug so tight you feared your bones would be broken once he released you, but you didn't push him away. You put your arms around his shoulders and cradled the back of his head in your hands. He was stock still for a few moments, simply living in your embrace before he started to shake. Gut wrenching sobs left his throat and it made your stomach clench.

"Shh," you whispered into his ear, "I'm here, Robb."

Robb whimpered and buried his head into the crook of your neck. You ran your hand through his curly auburn hair softly, hoping that it was a comfort to him. His hands balled the fabric at the back of your dress, something you thought was meant to ground him.

You let him take as long as he needed, your hands never ceasing to rub his back, shoulders or through his hair. You had closed your eyes long ago, and leaned your head to rest on his own. His hold on you had lessened considerably, and now he leaned heavily against you.

"I'm sorry," Robb whispered, his voice raw. "Y/N, I'm sorry I was such a prick."

You shook your head and squeezed him a little. "Don't you apologize to me, Robb. There has been nothing done to warrant one."

Robb nodded, then let out a rugged breath. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"You deserve a lot better than me," you whispered. "Robb, I'm sorry for what happened, but you know that I'm here for you. I'll always be here."

Robb pulled his head back to look at you for the first time since you'd found him that evening. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, and his nose was raw, but he still looked as handsome has he always had. He pulled you in by the back of your neck and placed a warm, wet kiss to your forehead.

"I love you, Y/N," Robb whispered, his lips still against your skin.

You smiled softly and rested your hands flat against his chest. "And I you. Always."

[multifandomhaven]

Arya had never been so cold in her life.

The fire that crackled to her right kept her warm enough to stay alive, but the bitter cold lapped at her fingers and toes like a dog starved of water.

She hummed and rubbed her gloved hands together for warmth.

Maybe The Hound was right when he told her she’d die on her own. She almost died when she was No One. She had almost in King’s Landing all those years ago.

But she hadn’t, she remembered, she lived and walked and breathed.

Arya winced when her stomach growled. 

The gnawing pain of hunger had almost consumed her a handful of times during her travels. She had learned from her mistakes, and when she met Hot Pie she asked for as much food as he could spare. 

She dug into her pack for something to eat - she still had some cheese and a small piece of bread. She picked off a small piece of bread and chewed it, lost in her thoughts.

She must be close, she knew, to her home. She’d been riding for too many days to keep count, but she knew these woods. She knew she was nearly home.

Winterfell. 

She had heard The Hound tell Brienne that it was gone, a pile of rubble. Was it true or just something he’d said so he could ransom her to some other noble house that had sworn banners to her father?

But Jon was in Winterfell, she remembered Hot Pie’s words. He was King in the North.

 Her stomach leap with anticipation, desperate to see her brother once more Even if she had no home to go back to, she still had at least one member of her family left.

She hadn’t heard of Sansa, Bran, Rickon, or Y/N’s wellness, but she prayed to every God she knew that they still lived.

Sansa, with her needlepoint and tales of knights and true love - Arya hardly thought Sansa still clung so desperately onto tales such as those with what she had endured at the hands of Joffery and his men during their captivity in King’s Landing.

And her brother Bran’s love of climbing had come to a bitter end when he fell from the window, and with it, Arya knew, his childhood had been cut short.

Her youngest sibling Rickon, her sweet little brother with his love of all things wild. She wondered if Shaggydog, the most wild of all the direwolves, kept him safe as the Bolton’s ravaged their home. Maybe he’d found refuge in his beloved forest, she hoped.

She thought of Y/N, her eldest sister that had stayed behind to help her mother with Bran after his fall, and to watch over and mother Rickon as if he were her own child.

Y/N had become Lady of Winterfell when Robb marched off to his death, taking their mother with him. Like father always said, Arya thought bitterly, there must always be a Stark in Winterfell.

Arya wrapped the bread back in its cloth after she’d ate her fill and placed her pack down beside her. She curled up next to the fire on the cold ground, her pack acting as a pillow, and tried to get some sleep.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

Footsteps to the left, Arya calculated. One person, not heavy by the sound of it. An easy kill most likely.

Even in her sleep-deprived state Arya had conditioned herself to keep her sword by her side. With her eyes still closed her hand moved toward Needle, her grip on the handle as strong as the steel itself.

“Drop your weapon,” you commanded her, “and I’ll spare your life.”

Arya’s eyes opened, in the light of the fire you stood with a dagger in each hand ready for Arya to make a move. She had recognized you instantly - and dropped Needle as if were on fire.

You clearly hadn’t seen her face, Arya knew, so she stood slowly, tears blurring her vision.

“Y/N?”

Your hands faltered slightly, your eyes becoming wide. “Arya?” 

Even in a whisper Arya knew your voice. She moved toward you with the speed of a snail, waiting for you to put down your blades. You quickly sheathed them just before Arya jumped into your arms, squeezing so hard you feared for your life.

“My sweet sister,” you cooed, your voice cracking. “I’ve missed you, Arya. Thank the Old Gods and the New you still live.”

You both stayed in each other’s embrace until the tears had stopped, then you pulled back and smoothed your sister’s hair. “Where have you been, Arya?”

Arya simply smiled. “It doesn’t matter. How close are we to Winterfell?”

“We’re just a few miles away,” you said. “I was to venture out with a group of Wildlings to find food for those who remain in Winterfell.”

“Those who remain?” Arya asked quietly. “Is Jon still there?”

You shook your head sadly. “No, he’s gone to Dragonstone to meet with Daenerys Targaryen. Sansa is with us, still.”

Arya couldn’t fight the smile. “And Bran and Rickon?”

You shook your head sadly, but wrapped your arm around her shoulders with a tight squeeze. “Come with me, sister. We have much to discuss.”

[multifandomhaven]

The Stable Girl

Robb Stark/ OC

Requested by: imaginingyournotsolikelyfuture

So sorry I’ve been neglecting the imagine requests in favor of the fanfics I’ve been working on. I’m hoping to get back into the swing of things.

Also, requests for imagines are still open, only the fanfic requests have been closed!

Your hands were nearly raw from gripping the mass of straw for so long.

The horses had to look perfect, you knew, for the King and his horde would be in Winterfell within the next day. You'd been working away tirelessly for hours, combing, washing and prettying House Stark's most esteemed horses.

You'd finally worked your way to Dancer, the young Lord Bran's gelding, who was the gentlest of all the horses.

"Hello boy," you smiled, patting his muzzle fondly. "Are you ready to be lavished upon, my sweet?"

The horse whinnied happily, bending his head to nip your shoulder gently. You winced at the slight pressure of it, but continued onto your duties.

You were the stable hand, and your father the Master of Horse, of Winterfell - you'd grown up around horses, and you prided yourself on knowing how to care for them. You combed the horse with the bound straw softly, cooing to him all the while.

"You're a good boy, aren't you?," you asked as you brushed down his side gently. "Of course you are! You're the most handsome of them all, aren't you, boy?"

You heard a deep chuckle behind you. You turned your head slightly to see Robb leaned against the threshold of the stall, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked very regal in that moment, the setting sun casting an orange glow around him. "You're very kind to the horses, Y/N."

A blush crept over your cheeks, and turned your body to face him, cursing yourself for being such a fool. "Lord Stark."

"Y/N," Robb chided. "How many must I tell you to call me Robb?"

You blushed, but kept his azure gaze, and picked at the pieces of straw that were escaping the bundle in your hand. "Once more, as always, Lord Stark."

Robb smiled, his face looking all the more handsome for it. "How many more horses do you have to groom?"

"I saved Dancer for last," you said. "Is there something you needed, my lord?"

"No," Robb grinned, "I only wished to know if you'd accompany me to the wood once you've finished your duties."

You gulped and looked down at your dirty breeches and stained tunic. "You honor me, Lord Stark, but I fear I am not dressed to accompany you."

"We are not attending a ball, Y/N," Robb laughed. "We are only going for a ride. And I care not for the state of your clothes, I care only whether or not you wish accompany me."

You thought for a moment - how long had it been since you'd taken your mare, Honey, on a good stroll? "Alright. Allow me to saddle Honey once I'm done here and I'll meet you at the edge of the wood."

"Until then," Robb bowed and shot you a wink. "Oh, Y/N?"

You smiled once more. "Yes, my lord?"

"You look more beautiful in your stable clothes than any other woman could hope to in their fancy dresses."

[multifandomhaven]

As Long As You’ll Have Me

Arya Stark x female!reader imagine.

Request by lovely-wagner

This is a longer imagine, I tried to cram all 7 seasons into a one-shot. I’m not very good at kiss scenes, so I apologize in advance if it’s completely horrible.

Happy reading, and remember request are open! x

Winterfell was different now, Y/N thought looking around the small stone room that had been gifted to her by Jon and Sansa just after the Battle of the Bastards was won. 

They had told her that's what Arya would have wanted, for Y/N to stay at Winterfell with their home won back. Y/N had accepted graciously, happy to have her childhood home back.

Y/N's family had always been close with the Starks, she'd been taken in as a ward just as Theon had been, only shortly before her sixth nameday.

Her parents had lost their only son and her father Lord Y/L/N had began to go mad with rage - he had lost his only heir, the only little lord that he saw fit to leave his house to. 

Y/N had grown scared of her father, and her mother knew what she had to do to save her daughter’s life. Within the fortnight Y/N was sent, with a group of Stark soldiers that had come to escort her, to the castle further north. 

Y/N was withdrawn when she first came to Winterfell. She felt unwelcome in the eyes of the Stark's mother, Catelyn. The red haired woman was tall and cold and watched her with an unwavering glare. Y/N cried herself to sleep every night after she arrived.

It wasn't her fault, she thought as she cried, it was her mother and her father's fault. She hadn't asked to be sent here to this strange place.

Every night she bawled beneath the furs on her bed until the youngest daughter of the Starks, Arya, had heard her relentless sobbing one night.

Arya peeked through the crack of Y/N's door, her wondering eyes taking in the small, shaking lump on the bed. Arya put her hand on the door and it creaked open to reveal the lump was actually a young girl - her family's newest ward.

"Are you alright?" Arya asked quietly, her dark brows furrowed. "Should I call my mother or the maester?"

Y/N's head flew up, her hair that had fell from it's braid looked a bit wonky, sticking out from both sides of her head. "N-No, my lady. I only miss my family is all. It's nothing your mother or your maester can remedy."

Arya's heart ached for the girl. She didn't know what it was like to be taken away from her family, and would rather be ignorant to the feeling if she were to be honest.

 Arya walked quietly to the bed, chewing her lip in thought. "I know you're lonely, but you'll find happiness here if you try. I can help you!”

Y/N sniffed. "T-Thank you."

"You're welcome," Arya smiled. "If you ever feel unsafe or alone my room is just down the hall. You don't have to sleep by yourself if you don't want to."

Y/N nodded, a yawn escaping her not two second later. "I apologize, my lady. I haven't slept well, you see."

"It's alright," Arya whispered. "Get some sleep, Y/N. I'll come get you in the morning."

After that night Y/N and Arya had been inseparable - where you found one the other was sure to be only seconds behind. Their friendship had blossomed over night and when Arya was sent to King's Landing with Lord Eddard and Sansa Y/N felt like she was that small girl again, crying in her bed once the darkness overtook the castle.

Y/N was there as Bran got better, she was there when Robb and Catelyn got killed. She was there when Theon sacked their home - she'd hidden under the bed in Arya's old room when it had happened, listening as people screamed around her - and she had survived. 

And then there were the Boltons, by the Gods they'd almost been the death of her. She thought she'd die so many times it felt like the finality of death was a long lost friend.

She tried to hide the scars on her arms where the bastard had began to flay her. Had it not been for Jon and Sansa reclaiming their home later that day she was sure she would have been dead come nightfall.

 Ramsay was a sadistic man that was undeserving of the end Sansa gave him. 

Y/N had wished to flay the man himself, to end him the same way he had so many others, but Sansa reminded her that he may enjoy leaving the world that way. He should have suffered, Y/N thought.

Y/N knew that she had no place giving orders to a Stark, so she stepped back and let Sansa have him killed in whatever way she chose - he had done so much worse to Sansa than herself, she remembered.

She had never felt a great joy than when a group of Stark soldiers had taken her down from the platform she was strapped to. They had done her a courtsey and turned as she pulled on a robe they had found discarded.

Y/N was ashamed of what had been done, but she never stopped fighting for her home.

"Y/N." Sansa's voice brought her back to the present. Y/N looked at the red haired girl that looked so much like her mother Catelyn, and wondered about the smile that threatened to split her face. "Someone’s arrived and they wish to speak with you."

"Someone to see me?" Y/N asked, her eyebrows raised high. "Who in the seven hells would come to see me?"

"Well," Sansa began, her thin lips stretched to their length's end, and moved aside to let Y/N's visitor inside the room.

For a moment all was still in the world. No breath left Y/N's lips and no movement was made from the inside the room. The only thing Y/N could hear was the background noise outside those cold walls.

In her room, right before her eyes, stood the only person Y/N could think about all those times death almost claimed her.

She looked different than Y/N remembered. Her once long hair had been crudely cut, now hanging just above her shoulders, and she wore breeches now.

Her eyes, thought Y/N, hadn't changed at all, though. They were still the same sage color she seemed to drown in each time she remembered the young wolf.

"Arya," Y/N whispered, tears filling her eyes. 

Arya stepped into the room and Sansa slipped quietly from the room, shutting the door behind her. The two girls stood in silence for a few moments, both taking their fill of the other before Arya began to creep forward slowly.

"I never thought I'd be back here," Arya said in a voice little above a whisper. "And I never thought you'd still be in Winterfell after all this time."

Y/N shook her head sadly, tears now falling freely down her reddened cheeks. "Oh, Arya. Where have you been all these years? What happened to you after King's Landing?"

Arya lips twitched upwards. "I've been all around Westeros. I've traveled with bandits, and with killers. I became No One and lived to reclaim my identity. I've avenged and I've killed."

"You're home," Y/N dried her eyes on her sleve. They stood nearly nose and nose now, both of them bleary eyed from the wetness that piled in the corners of their eyes. "You've come back to me."

"And you?" Arya said quietly. "How did you survive the raids on our home?"

Y/N stared at the ground in silence wringing her hands. She sucked a deep breath through her lips to calm her crying, then cleared her throat. 

 "I thought of your parents taking me in - they gave me a place to live, food to eat,” she admitted softly. “Someone to love.”

Arya blinked. "Someone to love?"

"Yes." Y/N breathed. "Someone I've loved for a long, long time." Y/N raised her arm slowly, her hand reaching out to Arya's face to caress her cheek. 

"Arya, you are what kept me alive when death was so very near. It was you I thought of when the coldness almost claimed me. It has always been you that I cared the most for."

Arya's bottom lip quivered slightly. "And I you.”

Y/N's hand rested on the nape of Arya's neck, playing with the ends of her nut brown hair. "Promise me you'll never leave again."

"I promise," Arya whispered.

Their breaths danced together as their faces inched closer and closer. Y/N felt her eyes slid shut at the closeness of Arya, wanting nothing more than to lean in a hair's width and kiss her.

"I've never kissed anyone before," Arya admitted. "I've never wanted to before now."

Y/N's tongue darted out to wet her lips, her eyes opening. She saw the darkness in Arya's eyes and hoped that she wanted this much as Y/N did. "May I?"

The Stark girl said nothing so Y/N took it upon herself to use the hand on the back of Arya's neck to softly pull her in, giving her any opportunity to pull away if she so wished.

Arya's lips felt much like Y/N thought they would. Hard, but not rough, soft, but not like the pillows they'd shared as children. Y/N thought it a good combination for the young wolf.

Arya didn't know what to do with her hands so she simply let them rest on Y/N's waist - she'd seen people kiss before, but never really paid much attention to where their hands went. It felt right, to be able to feel the person she’d so wished to see for so long. Arya’s hands tightened on Y/N’s waist, pulling her closer.

The kiss lasted only for a moment longer before Y/N pulled away breathless. She leaned her forehead against Arya’s her eyes still closed. 

"Was that okay?"  

"It was more than okay," Arya breathed, still holding the girl close to her. Y/N opened her eyes and pulled back slightly to get a better view of Arya. "I'm glad you did it, I never would have thought you felt this way about me."

Y/N felt herself stiffen at her words. "Am I mad to think you could ever feel the same about me?"

"You're not mad," Arya said with a grin. "I always felt something for you that I didn't understand. As I grew older and saw the horrors of the world,” Arya paused momentarily, her eyes somewhere far away. “I could think of nothing better than growing old in my home - our home."

Y/N nodded. "It's understandable you'd want to be home, I wish I could have done something about your mother, your father. Robb -" Arya cut her off. 

"I miss them more than you can imagine," she said sadly. "But I still have Jon and Sansa and Bran. And I still have you."

Y/N's smile rivaled that of Sansa's as she stood in the doorway just a few moments ago. "And I you, little wolf."

Arya leaned in to capture Y/N's lips in a single, brief peck. "I will never leave you again, as long as you'll have me."

[multifandomhaven]

“Sandor,” you smiled, sitting next to him by the campfire one night. You were surprised to see his hulking figure sitting so close to the one thing he feared most, but you said nothing of it to him, deciding to sit quietly by his side instead. 

The man grunted, one of his usual ways of letting you know he heard you, and tilted his head back to give you a quick look over, a trait he hadn’t buried with his Hound persona.

“What’re you still doing up, girl?” His gruff voice came as a shock each time he spoke. “Don’t ya know what’s waitin’ in the dark for pretty girls like you?”

You knew he was trying to frighten you with tales of monsters among men so you shrugged your shoulders and chuckled. “You’ll keep me safe, though, Sandor, of that I have no doubt.”

“Aye, I’d not let any harm come to ya,” Sandor admitted with a heavy sigh, “but it’d be much easier with some fucking steel in my hand.”

You laughed at his colorful language, but agreed nonetheless. Your eyes searched him over, he’d healed very well considering the state you and Ray had found him in. 

He still walked with a slight limp from his broken leg, but everything else seemed to heal perfectly.

“Are you needing help moving some firewood to your camp, then? “He asked quietly, gulping a drink from his wineskin heavily. “Or need help scaring one of the lads into leaving you be?”

You arched a brow at him, but smiled all the same. “Excuse me?”

Sandor gave you what you could only describe as a look of sass, his lip tugged down into a frown. “C’mon, girl, no need to be fishin’ for compliments from an old dog like me. Everyone with eyes knows yer a looker. I’ve seen the lads starin’ at you longer than what most would see acceptable.”

Your cheeks flushed, and as you looked into the fire you wondered if the flames burned as hot as your face was at that moment. A chuckle was stuck in your throat and your breath left you in short puffs.

With a glance in his direction you saw him looking pitifully at the fire, and something in you stirred. You raised from your position on the log beside him and walked behind him. You had never been very courageous in your life, but at that moment you felt the need to let your feelings be known.

You placed your hands softly on the man’s broad shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze when he froze. He didn’t like to be touched, even by a tiny little woman, but you carried on anyway.

“Between yourself and I,” you began, your mouth close to the ear that had been savaged by his brother, “you’re the only person I wish to hear compliments from.”

You gave his shoulder a final squeeze and made your way back to your tent for the night. You turned to Sandor one final time that night and gave him a heartfelt smile.

You hadn’t seen him smile since he came into your company, but that night by the light of the fire you swore you saw him grin.

[multifandomhaven]

Of Whispers and Dragons

Okay, guys, I'm so, so sorry it's taken so long to get this out, loves!

I hope you enjoy this chapter! I know it's more of a filler chapter, but it was really such fun to write!

Let me know what you think! x

Chapter Seven

"How could I not have known?" Tyrion asked, not awaiting a reply from the people that surrounded him. "The hair, those eyes. I am such a fool."

Raenerha watched him with a small smile, the man's antics stirring a bit of joy within in her - everything about the place, even the sticky, humid weather, had made her happy. She was with Daenerys again. What else could she possible ask for?

"Well, I had coaled my hair, Lord Tyrion." Raenerha tried to ease his obvious tensions. "You weren't the only one I fooled."

Tyrion, however, paid her statement no mind - his mind was the only thing he had that separated him from the rest - how had he let it past him? Daenerys said nothing to Tyrion as he ambled around them, his hands still clasped behind him. Instead she turned to her sister, her eyes watching her intently.

"How have you come to me after all these years apart, Raenerha?" The Dragon Queen asked quietly. "How were you not hunted to the ends of the earth like Viserys and myself?"

Raenerha turned her head from the pacing half-man to her sister. "It has not been an easy path for me to walk alone, Sister, of that I will not lie. But I have not seen such things as you."

"Come now," Daenerys encouraged with a stern look. Raenerha remembered that look from their brother as well, although his was much more pronounced, however. Daenerys made no threats of dragons awakening or anything of the such, she was genuinely curious. "I know you were sold in to servitude by our brother, but nothing more. Tell me of your travels, dear sister. I wish to know. Truly."

"Very well," Raenerha sighed. "Viserys sold me to House Antaryon in Braavos. I stayed put there for a few years. I was happy there. I helped with their children - readied them for events, helped them study. Then, one day they tired of my services and I was sold to the Lannisters of King's Landing, as your Hand here very well knows."

"And they never caught you?" Daenerys questioned. "Not one got suspicious of you at all?"

Raenerha shrugged her shoulders, her silver hair falling from it at once. "They never asked, for all they knew I was simply a very skilled, sought after nanny. I, again, was in charge of the Princes and Princesses of King's Landing, two of which are so lovely. The other one, the eldest boy, was not."

"Yes, the only good things that have ever come from my sister," Tyrion added. "And I think you should know of their fates."

Raenerha's hand went to her chest - she prayed to any God that would listen that they were safe. "What of them?"

"Before I departed I had arranged for Myrcella to go to Dorne to marry one of the noble boys from House Martell. Oberyn's paramour decided to get her revenge of Cersei, however, and poisoned Myrcella just before her journey home."

Raenerha frowned deeply, an ache deep in her chest. "Poor, sweet Myrcella."

"And King Tommen is on the Iron Throne since Joffery's death." Tyrion added quickly. "I know you were close to my niece, my lady. I am sorry."

"Yes, it is very sad." Daenerys looked at Tyrion, her dark brow raised high on her forehead. It wasn't that she felt pity for the young girl, she was sure she was innocent in the game of lies, but they were her enemies - it was one less person she'd have to worry about later in her reign as Queen. "Now that the Lannister news has been relayed to you, sister..."

In that moment, with the look of sadness on both their faces, one for the loss of such a sweet life, the other for the pain of her sister, they looked so very similar.

Tyrion began to pace again, trying to make peace with his ignorance. "Well, I did spend more time in the brothels there than I did in the castle. I kept my eyes on only who I needed to see. I was not to be bothered with a handmaiden." Tyrion was still in shock, he kept looking from one sister to the other, cursing under his breath. "I am sorry, my lady, if I caused any offence."

"No, my lord, none." Raenerha waved his apology to the wind. "You know, you were always my favorite of the Lannisters."

Tyrion's chin raised slightly at her admission. "You jest."

"I do not," Raenerha retaliated quietly. "You were the only one I think I'd ever seen crack a smile - well, unless we're including your horrible sister's sinister grins whenever she got her way or when someone she hated died."

"Ah, yes, those I remember quite clearly," Tyrion agreed with a grimace. "Tell me, did my dear siblings ever realize who you truly are?"

Raenerha took a sip of the wine in her goblet before she answered. "I believe they had been made aware of my presence. Had it not been for Lord Varys I would not be here. He arraigned my travels perfectly."

"Yes, it seems he is shockingly skilled at hiding such high profile outcasts." Tyrion added.

Raenerha looked back to Daenerys . "After I left the King's Landing I was told to go North."

"North?" Daenerys repeated curiously. "Why North?"

Raenerha took another sip of her wine. "We have an uncle at the Wall, Daenerys. Aemon, he's the Maester. Varys urged me to make contact with him, that he would keep me safe until you and I would meet again. And he was right. There I met a Wildling, Gilly, and we became fast friends. I also met Jon Snow and Samwell Tarly - they helped me, kept me safe. Jon Snow even escorted me to the boat that brought me here."

"It seems you've traveled nearly as much as I," Daenerys smiled. "I am glad you've made friends over the years, dear sister, we will need to call on them soon."

Raenerha watched as Daenerys stood slowly, looking around at her advisers, her friends and, now, the last of her family. "However you've gotten here, Sister, I am ever grateful. I will repay those who've helped you on your way to me. Lord Varys will be first."

Raenerha nodded slowly. "I think, my Queen, that is a very kind and wise decision."

"I am proud of you, Raenerha, never forget that. All that you and I have overcome just strengthens our hold on the Iron Throne. We will have it back, that I promise you." Daenerys gave her a small smile. "Now, sister, it is time to retake our home. We will sail for Dragonstone within the fortnight. We will take back our home. We will take back our kingdom with Fire and Blood."