Thinking about dunk prepping you as much as he can before losing control. He’s big, large in every sense of the word, only emphasises by the shaky hands that swarm your own and the pale, broad shoulders that tower of your frame. And the thing is, he knows it.. laying you down gently on the comfort bed where the plush covers hit your back.
You urge him, beg him through every climax he pulls you through on his tongue, wet muscle lapping up your arousal hungrily as he pinned your hips down. His mouth latches onto your clit, unrelenting in the worship, your thighs hugged around his head.
“Please Dunk.. need you.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, breathless and desperate, eager to feel him inside of you. He rises only a touch over your mouth, giving ‘her’ one last kiss as he mumbles out.
“You got me, love..” He speaks bashfully, as if a dumbly sated smile were to appear on his face, almost innocent, like he hadn’t just melted you into a mess underneath him. But you saw it, rising between you as he crawled further into the bed, the hard and angry red at his flushed pink tip, near leaking. He was about to burst by the time he had his hands on you.. but now he was done for, and so were you
“No.. need you, now.”
He obliges, he always does, he simply couldn’t resist you. And so climbing over you, rising inch by inch, the mattress dipping under the weight of his knees and hands fisted either side of your head. Blue eyes flicked over yours, asking, pleasing, and you nodded, your hand circling around his back as he sunk into you with a burning stretch. Your mouth hung open from the ache, the wet heat of your sucking him in deeper and deeper with every move he tempted further. And you were certain he was done, pulsing and clenching around wildly as your head lulled back, his mouth ghosting your forehead, damp and sticky.
You let out a whine, guttural and wanton, and he shushes you gently, “Shhhh.. shh, I’ve got you m’lady.” And that’s when you feel it, the steady rock of him, moving inside of you as you grip his sides, tugging him closed through the searing pleasure pain igniting in your belly. He’s too deep, so deep you feel the press of him through muscle you’re sure of it.. but he’s being careful, as gentle as ever as not to hurt you.
And yet he’s still not all the way inside of you. The blood rushing to his tip seated deep in your cunt urges him to spill, to fuck you full and breed you. And Gods he wants to, needs to. But he holds back through shaky breaths, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
“S’too much..” Your words become babbles, rocking back and forth as your hips rise, fucking yourself back into his cock as he slowly follows, hips rolling back into your own with such a divine tenderness ready to snap. He slowly speeds up, shoving his face into the crook of your neck as his body curls over yours, moans spilling free from your lips as you take him.
“I know.. you can take it love.. we’ll make it fit.”
for some reason rook @corviiids and i have created an elaborate sitcom scenario wherein miya atsumu shows up with a very cute baby of mysterious origin. nobody in the v-league is of any help whatsoever
You’ve just gotten cozy in bed when your husband tells you, “You’re hot.”
“Thank you?” you replied, confused. “I’m not really in the mood tonight, though…”
Iwaizumi looked at you as if you’d grown another head. His brows are drawn together, mirroring your confusion.
“What? No, love, you’re hot.”
“I know I’m hot, Haji. You told me. And I told you I’m not in the mood.”
He sighed. “Hot-hot. You have a fever.”
“Oh?” You put a hand on your neck, feeling the temperature a lot warmer than usual. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
“How’d you know?”
He shuffled around your bedroom, going through the cabinets that had extra blankets, medicine, and a thermometer he kept in your nightstand. Iwaizumi sat next to you, the bed dipping under his weight.
“You’re quieter than usual,” he answered eventually.
“That’s it? That’s not even—mmph!”
You could only glare at your husband when he unceremoniously gives you the thermometer.
“Rude. Is this how you treat your wife? That is ill?”
Iwaizumi chuckled. “Sorry, sorry. I forgot to tell you.” He offered you the blankets and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand to show that he truly was sorry. You’re not sure if you want to believe him given that cheeky smile on his face. “Be right back. I’ll make you something warm and get some water.”
“But we just had dinner—”
“Just a little hot soup? Please?”
“But I just brushed my teeth, Haji.”
“I’ll help you brush your teeth after.”
You stared at him. There was no way you could win this argument. Iwaizumi was quite stubborn when he wanted to be.
“Fine. I want egg drop soup, though.”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
-
You’re about to fall asleep when Iwaizumi pulls you closer to him, murmuring, “You okay?”
“Mmh. Feels like it’s going to come down on me t’morrow.”
He shifted slightly, kissing your temple. “Weekend tomorrow. I’ll take care of you.”
You smiled, nodding along. Having a husband who could tell that you were about to fall ill just from the subtle tell-tale signs was a blessing.
Ushijima who hates when you carry any thing at all. He’ll take your backpack off your back and your water right out of your hands. It does not matter how inconsistent it is.
Ushijima who will check to make sure you are well through the day and if you didn’t order food to be dropped off at your door.
Ushijima who will run any fashion decision by you first before stepping out the door.
Ushijima who genuinely yearns so bad for you when you’re not there. If you’re gonna for a long time he’ll pull you into a long hug and say “I wasn’t quite myself with you gone.”
Ushijima who hates spending money on litterly anything. Clothes, food, even new equipment. But he’d spend every last cent on you. His brain litterly turns off when it comes to spending money on you.
Ushijima who learns how to braid hair to make your night routine as quick and easy as possible.
Ushijima who sits and watches you do your makeup and is mesmerized by your lipstick. He loves when you kiss him and you leave a little stain on his lips.
Ushijima who stresses FOR you when you run late and would sell his soul to make sure you arrive on time for any event.
Ushijima who could never get upset with you even if he tried. If you leave things laying around in the most messy and inconvenient manor he would just risk and say he has to be better at cleaning up.
Ushijima who massages your back every. Single. Day. Because he can not stand you being upset. Like he would have a cup of tea ready for you and every thing.
A.N: My loves, you're absolutely amazing, thank you so so much for your wonderful support, you've made me so happy! 🩷I hope you'll like this one as well, and please let me know what you think🩷 ILYSM, kisses! 🩷
Pairing: Robb Stark x F!Reader
Summary: Weddings can be very chaotic.
Word Count: 9k
Warnings: Explicit language, adult themes, getting drunk, a Borgias inspired scene. MDNI- Do not read if you're under 18.
Series Masterlist
You could swear you woke up smiling.
It was as if the sun itself had decided to rise inside your chest this morning, too excited to wait for your maid to pull open the curtains to let the light in. You were quite certain that you were the happiest woman in the North—or in the realm, delight filling you even before you opened your eyes and sat up in the bed.
Your wedding day.
It had taken you a long time to fall asleep last night, first from the excitement, then thanks to Robb and his drunk midnight visit that made your face burn even now; what he suggested—
Well.
It had to be because he was drunk, surely.
This was the North, you were certain they didn’t do that here.
“Tell me it’s not snowing,” you told your maid who was looking out the window and she turned to smile at you, then shook her head.
“No sign of snow,” she said, making you exhale in relief. “All from yesterday seems to have melted with the sunlight too. I’d say it’s a good sign from the gods.”
A happy laugh escaped you and you stretched out your arms over your head, then dropped them.
“I’m to wed the love of my life!”
“Yes you are, but before that happens we have a very strict plan for today.”
You nodded your head. “Yes.”
“You’ll have breakfast with the family first…”
“Then go to the sept, pray to the gods, and then—” You thought for a moment. “I still feel like I should pray to his gods as well.”
“Your wedding is happening in front of his gods, you’ll have the time to pray to them.”
You heaved a sigh. “Alright. I’ll have breakfast, go to the sept, pray to the gods, visit Frost quickly—”
“My lady.”
“She hasn’t seen me for a whole day!” you insisted, causing her to pinch the bridge of her nose before she heaved a sigh.
“I’ll bring her here while you’re getting ready, how about that?”
“Oh that sounds better,” you said, “thank you.”
“Remember,” she told you. “The wedding ceremony will hold place when the sun sets, so you must be here in the afternoon latest. It’ll take us hours and hours.”
You nodded your head again.
“The other maids will bring you luncheon, I’ve already arranged it. But once you’re back in this room, you’re staying. I don’t want you to try sneaking out to go see your betrothed while we’re getting you ready.”
Your eyes widened. “But Eadith, if I miss him during the day—”
“You’ll have all the time to see him tonight,” she cut you off and winked. “All of him.”
Your heart skipped a beat and you swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the heavy worry crashing down on you to poison the excitement in your chest.
The wedding night.
Gods, tonight had to go perfect.
Margaery’s grandmother Lady Olenna had always told you the wedding night would determine how the rest of your marriage would go. That was the reason why she had hired that lady of the night for you and Margaery, so that you two would know what to do to mesmerize your husbands on your wedding night completely, and so that you could pull them under your spell, ensuring that they would be under your control. The wedding bed, as everyone kept reminding you, was the place you could manipulate your husband and make him do your bidding outside your bedchambers but now that you knew you were in love, everything was much more complicated than that.
You wanted it to go great, not because it would serve your interests in the future and give you more power over him, but because you loved him.
You couldn’t take a wrong step. You couldn’t falter or fail. You couldn’t do anything that’d shatter tonight’s perfection because if you did—
“My lady?”
You blinked a couple of times, trying to snap out of your own worried thoughts but before you could answer, someone knocked on your door. You and Eadith exchanged glances and you shrugged, so she went to open the door.
Silas.
You furrowed your brows when he stepped in, a small laugh spilling from your lips.
“You look terrible!”
“I came back to the castle while the sun was rising.” He squinted his eyes at the bright room, then ran a hand over his face before fixing his gaze on you. “How do you feel?”
“Much better than you, I’d say,” you said with a grin and he came to sit beside your bed.. “How much did you drink?”
“Too much,” he mumbled and took a deep breath. “Are you sure about this?”
“About what?”
“Being wed to him,” he said. “Because we can just leave if you changed your mind.”
You tilted your head to the side. “Leave?”
“I’ve learned the secret pathways out of the castle. Say the word, and we will sneak out and go to the White Harbor, get on a ship to Dorne and—”
“Silas.”
“I mean the North is so far from the Reach, and it’s a completely different culture, I don’t know what I was thinking—”
“You were thinking of my happiness as you always do,” you assured him, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “For which I’ll be thankful to you my whole life. But I haven’t changed my mind, nor will I ever. I love Robb, and he loves me back, and I want to wed him.”
“But…” He pursed his lips. “But are you certain?”
“Very much so.” You gave him a bright smile. “You’ve made the perfect choice, why are you sad?”
There was a haunted look in his eyes before he blinked it away, then smiled back at you.
“I feel overly emotional, can you blame me?” he asked. “It’s my little sister’s wedding day.”
“I’m a woman grown, Silas.”
“Yes yes, I’ve heard you the first hundred times.” He waved a hand in the air. “So then. If I’m not sneaking you out of the castle, what’s the plan for the day?”
Robb and most of your brothers except Alton and Silas ended up not joining breakfast. You weren’t so surprised, Robb was in fact pretty drunk when he came to your door last night even though he kept claiming otherwise, so you figured he would sleep the exhaustion off. You had no idea what time the rest of your brothers had returned to the castle, but if you had to guess, it had to be around dawn like Silas, or perhaps even later.
You just hoped everyone would be feeling much better and awake by the ceremony.
On other news, Robb had a point in saying Lady Stark presided over the wedding in a way stricter manner than Lord Stark ruled the North. There really wasn’t much for you to do except to get ready and be in the Godswood at the specified time; everything else was ready for the evening and for the feast. When you thanked Lady Stark and expressed your concern about whether she would be too tired from handling all this, she only gave you a smile and told you that you would understand just how not tiring this was when the time would come for you to do the same for your future children with Robb.
If your calculations didn’t fail you, based on all the tales about the war and Lord and Lady Stark’s wedding, Robb was conceived on their wedding night.
You wondered if Lady Stark expected the same from you and Robb.
Even if she did, this was peace time. Back then, during war, heirs were of crucial importance, a matter of life-and-death for houses and bloodlines. It was different now; Lord Stark was alive, there was no war, no impending danger,—the noble families’ never ending battle for more power aside— no threat to the realm itself or the crown, or the North. Besides, Robb had never so much as mentioned wanting heirs this early on, so you figured he wasn’t in a hurry.
You just wanted to enjoy your marriage, anything and everything else could wait regardless of others’ expectations.
After lighting your candle in the sept and saying a quick prayer to the gods, you stepped out of the sept, your mind still plagued with thoughts but you quickly snapped out of them when someone grabbed your arm. The small scream that left your lips turned into a giggle upon seeing Robb, and you let him pull you behind the nearest tree, your heartbeat speeding up as you leaned back to the trunk of the tree to look up at him. He cupped your face and stole a kiss from your lips, taking your breath away before he smiled down at you, a fond light gleaming in his eyes.
“Good morrow my love.”
You beamed at him, your face growing hotter.
“Good morrow,” you said, your fingers idly playing with the laces of his linen shirt. “You’re awake, finally. Any longer and I was going to come to wake you up myself.”
“Had I known, I would’ve stayed in bed,” he joked, making you scrunch up your nose at him. “Not too late still. Come to my bedchambers.”
“I cannot,” you said with a small pout. “I’m under very strict orders for today. My seamstress and my maids are in my bedchambers already, I’m sure. Every hour of today is planned.”
His thumb caressed your cheekbone. “Is that right?”
“Yes, I’ll have a bath first, and then—”
“You can have a bath in my bedchambers.”
You pushed at his arm, trying your hardest not to giggle. “Robb!”
“To save you the time!” he defended himself with a playful grin. “I’m merely asking you to come so that you can decide whether the room is to your liking. With your four poster bed and canopy with sheer curtains and such.”
Your eyes darted over his face. “What?”
“The carpenters put everything together while I was away last night, it looks like what you described,” he said. “But I think you should see it closer—the bed, to be exact, you should see the bed closer—”
“Are you serious?” you asked him. “You had them change it to my liking?”
“Of course I did, you said you wanted it,” he said, as if that was all the explanation you could ever need. You could swear your heart melted in your chest as you let out a breath, then pecked him on the lips before you pulled back to smile up at him.
“Thank you!”
He smiled back and dipped his head to kiss you again, but you pulled back and went under his arm to step away from him like you two were in a dance. He almost stumbled in his haste to chase your lips, but managed to regain his balance before catching up with you.
“Will I be able to get you alone before the wedding at least?”
You shook your head. “I’m told no.”
“By who?”
“By my maid.”
“By your—?”
“There’s so much to do!” You entwined your fingers with his, leaning sideways to his arm as you entered the courtyard. “I’ve made a very extensive list, and I’m still terrified I’ll forget something. I had a nightmare the other night, I was in the Godswood but forgot my earrings back in my bedchambers, and no one warned me.”
He stifled a laugh. “Disaster.”
“I know!” you insisted, then heaved a sigh. “Robb, can I ask you for something?”
“Name it and it’s yours.”
You could feel the butterflies in your stomach.
“I won’t have the time to see Silk,” you said, biting on your lip. “Eadith will bring Frost to my bedchambers, but I obviously cannot have Silk there. Can you take her out today? I fear she’ll grow restless if she spends the whole day in the stables, I don’t trust anyone else with her.”
A soft smile appeared on his face before he tugged you by your hand to pull you closer so that he could kiss the top of your head, making you gasp.
“People are watching!”
“They’re here for our wedding, they’ll be fine,” he brushed you off as you both entered the keep and ascended the stairs. “And consider it done, I’ll take her out for a ride.”
“Thank you!” you chirped. “And please make sure to give her an apple. A green apple, she likes green apples better than red ones.”
“Of course.”
You opened your mouth and closed it again, thinking over your question before you took a deep breath.
“Lady Stark tells me not everyone will be in the Godswood for the wedding?”
“The feast is a part of the wedding,” he corrected you. “For the Godswood ceremony, it’s going to be only specific people apart from our families. Everyone else will be waiting back in the Great Hall, at the feast.”
You hummed. “And the feast is as good of a confirmation as the Godswood ceremony even though they don’t see it?”
“Exactly.”
“The ceremony itself sounds rather simple,” you wondered aloud. “I memorized every step of it, but now to think of it, you are certain no one missed anything?”
That seemed to make him chuckle as you both turned the corner to your bedchambers.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know!” you insisted with a small laugh before you pouted. “I don’t know. I just—I overthink things when I’m nervous, you know that. I don’t want anything to go wrong, that is all.”
He stopped you, his hands cradling your face in the gentlest manner, making your heart skip a beat.
“Nothing will go wrong,” he assured you. “The ceremony sounds simple, because it is very simple. You have nothing to worry about, I swear it.”
You had a lot to worry about, he just didn’t know all of them yet.
You nodded your head, your eyes fluttering close as he dipped his head to kiss you again, making you heave a sigh and lean into his touch, nearly melting in his arms. You were certain that you were never going to grow tired of his kiss, and you had to repress a whine when he pulled back to rest his forehead against yours, nudging your nose with his to make you giggle.
“You might want to go in there before I change my mind about not dragging you to my bedchambers.”
You breathed out a laugh before you stole a kiss from him, then stepped out of his embrace despite your body begging you not to.
“I believe they are to be our bedchambers and not yours as of tonight,” you teased him as you walked backwards. “Since it’s decorated to my taste and all. Get used to it.”
“Get used to being there,” he teased you back, coaxing a giggle out of you.
“Sounds a fair trade,” you said. “See you in the Godswood tonight.”
With that, you dropped an exaggerated curtsy and entered your already crowded bedchambers, then closed the door behind you.
Eadith was right, getting you ready took hours and hours. You had spent more than an hour in the bathtub, soaking in warm water and flower oils that made your skin softer than silk. The real preparations began when you finally left the bathtub; your hair, your jewelry, your wedding gown and your cloak, they all had to look as planned. It had taken you a long time to decide on everything, but now that you were seeing all of it together, you couldn’t help but be proud of yourself and everyone else for their efforts.
You had chosen to abandon the intricate braids of the south and instead adapted the loose hairstyles of the north, save for two braided pieces that were wrapped around the thin crown of blue winter roses atop your head. Diamonds dangled from the silver filigree earrings in your ears, catching light whenever you so much as moved your head, much like the bracelet around your wrist. Though it was your favorite, you were leaving your signature goat head bracelet and Margaery’s gift on your vanity for the night, opting for a silver bracelet adorned with tiny diamonds you had custom made before you came here.
But even the most delicate jewelry couldn’t compete with your gown.
You had joked about it before with your seamstress. Back in the Reach, while you were planning it and coming up with ideas for your gown, she had asked you what you had in mind, and you had grinned at her.
“He’s a wolf, is he not?” you had asked. “Everyone says so. Then I’m to be his moonlight, for him to follow and admire.”
“Rylene,” you breathed out, gawking at your reflection while she fixed the back of your dress. “You are the most talented woman I’ve ever met, and I’ll cry for days when you go back to the Reach.”
She shushed you.
“This is not the time to speak of crying,” she chastised you lightheartedly. “Because I’ll cry as well, so let’s just focus on how beautiful you look, hm?”
You had no idea how she did it, but she had woven the moonlight into silk.
The gown itself was iridescent, many different shades of gray and the softest blue coming together to gleam in harmony at the smallest motion you’ve made, may it be your arm moving or your chest rising with your breath. To make it even brighter, she had spun a second layer; a net of pure silver threads as light as air draped over the gown. The soft fabric didn’t even seem like it belonged in this world, rather something that was gifted from far beyond, from the stars themselves perhaps, letting you borrow their shine for the night. If you weren’t the one wearing it, you would’ve thought it was a trick of light, too fragile to even gaze upon like the shy light of the moon who, despite being so powerful to rule the waters, had to retire behind night clouds from time to time to breathe in peace.
Your maiden cloak, which was decorated with your own house’s sigil, was only going to be on you until Robb replaced it with his own, yet you had made sure to stitch the small squares of goat embroidery Sansa and Arya had given you upon your arrival here on it. It was much bigger and heavier than the gown, but thankfully Eadith said she would carry it until you reached the Godswood, so you didn’t have to worry about whether it would make you trip or mess up your gown somehow on your way there.
“This is the most beautiful gown I’ve ever seen in my life,” Sansa said from behind you and you exchanged glances with Rylene in the mirror.
“You’ll have an even prettier one when you wed my sweet,” you told her, and Sansa batted Arya’s hand away when she reached out to touch the skirt.
“Ouch!”
“Don’t touch it you idiot, you’ll stain it!”
“I won’t!”
“Mother, Arya is trying to ruin the wedding gown!”
“But my hands are clean!”
“Arya, don’t touch the wedding gown,” Lady Stark called out from the other end of the room and you smiled at Arya while Rylene crouched down to inspect the hem of the skirt.
“You can touch it once we’re sure Robb has seen it,” you whispered as if giving her a secret and she shifted her weight, her gray eyes darting over the fabric.
“Your everything is shiny,” she pointed out. “Your gown, your jewels…Even your horse.”
“Silk is so gorgeous!” Sansa added. “I saw Robb take her out for a ride earlier.”
“Oh, good!” you said. “I was worried he wouldn’t have the time.”
“No no, he did,” Sansa said and frowned. “Do people in the south ride horses after their wedding?”
“Hm?”
“I heard some lords say Robb was going to have enough of a ride later tonight, so he shouldn’t have bothered.”
Your heart dropped to your stomach, your insides churning with worry but you managed to smile at Sansa, Rylene lifting her head from your skirts to steal a look at her.
“We sometimes hold jousts for wedding feasts,” you lied through your teeth. “Some southern guests still think we’re in the Reach and not the north, I suppose. They’re not familiar with northern weddings or customs.”
It was fine.
Everything was going to be fine tonight.
You weren’t going to mess it up.
“My flower, time to go!” Your father’s voice reached inside the room and Rylene fixed your skirts before she stepped away from you. You quietly thanked her, then tried to smile at Lady Stark who approached you.
“You look so beautiful my dear,” she said. “Are you ready to leave?”
“Actually, can I—can I have the room for a moment before we leave?” you asked, your voice cracking mid-sentence and she reached out to squeeze your hand.
“Of course,” she said. “Are you sure everything is alright?”
You nodded fervently. “I just need a moment, I think. I’m afraid I’m too excited.”
She gave you a knowing smile, then squeezed your hand in an assuring manner and turned to the rest of the room.
“Out, everyone.”
“Mother—”
“Yes Sansa, you too. You’ll wait outside with me.”
“But I could help!”
“You’ll help by waiting outside, come on,” Lady Stark said, and everyone in the room followed her, leaving you with Eadith.
“I know what you’re going to say—”
“I cannot mess this up, Eadith,” you said, blinking back the tears. “I cannot.”
“And you will not,” she said. “He loves you.”
“Right now,” you corrected her, pacing in the room. “But if I do something wrong, if I…if what I do tonight is not to his pleasure—”
“Not to his pleasure?” she repeated. “Do you hear yourself? He is too mesmerized by you to be displeasured with you, you know that.”
You shook your head, wishing for the thousandth time that Margaery were here despite how badly she broke your heart.
“I’m supposed to be perfect tonight,” you reminded Eadith, wringing your hands. “Everything that I do is supposed to be seductive and confident. But I—I don’t feel that way, I feel like a clumsy idiot who’ll say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing, and then Robb will change his mind and he will stop loving me because he’ll be disappointed in me, and I’ll be heartbroken and replaced and—”
“My lady.” She stopped you, rushing to grasp you by your upper arms so that you would stop pacing. “You will not say or do the wrong thing. I doubt he’ll hear a word you say while you look like this, he’ll be too busy trying to get the prettiest girl in the realm out of the prettiest gown in the realm.”
“Lady Olenna would always say the result of desire had to be even better than the anticipation,” you whispered, stealing a look at the door. “I’ve been keeping him on the edge for a month. That comes with a price, his expectations must be high, and if I fail to meet them—”
“His expectations are just you,” she whispered back. “You being your sweet self. Which will be more than enough, I promise you. He’s in love with you, you couldn’t disappoint him if you tried. You’ll calm down, and it will go great.”
You fanned your face and opened your mouth to argue, but the idea struck your mind like lightning, making your breath hitch in your throat. Eadith raised her brows as you stepped away from her, then turned around to rush to the chest Arys had brought you.
“What are you doing?”
“Arys brought me herbs for everything, and I checked all of them earlier, I swear I saw something…” You opened the chest and pulled open one of the drawers to take a look at the pouches before you moved to the next drawer. “Because he knows everything about everything, and—there!”
You took out the pouch that was labeled “Relaxing the Mind” with Arys’ graceful handwriting, then untied the string around the top part.
“My lady,” Eadith warned you as you took a look inside the pouch, then took out two pieces of what seemed like dried pieces of plant roots. You popped one in your mouth to chew and swallow it, the taste making you grimace before you shoved the other into her hand.
“Keep it with you please,” you said. “If one doesn’t work, I’ll take another before we retire to our bedchambers.”
“I don’t think that’s wise—” she started but was cut off when the door opened, and Elinor stepped in to close it behind her.
“Make haste, everyone is waiting outside,” she said, her eyes finding the chest behind you. “What are you doing?”
You shot her a glare and put the pouch into its place, then closed the chest while Elinor leaned on her hip.
“What’s that?”
“It’s nothing!” you snapped. “Leave me be.”
“Aw, what’s happened?” she mocked. “Too scared to wed your barbarian? Now you remember there’s a reason why southern girls don’t marry into the north?”
You gritted your teeth and narrowed your eyes at her before you let a smirk pull at your lips, then nodded at her.
“How’s your arm?”
That was enough to wipe that smug smile off her face and you scoffed a laugh, then walked past her. Eadith rushed to open the door for you and you took a deep breath, then stepped outside and plastered a smile on your face.
“I’m ready.” You went to press a kiss on your father’s cheek. “Let’s go.”
The Northern wedding customs were rather different than those of the south.
In the south, all weddings took place in the sept in the morning, led by a septon. In the North however, the weddings were held at night by the torchwood, and the moonlight. There was no septon because the old gods didn’t have such structure, instead the groom’s father would officiate the wedding.
So, Lord Stark.
Gods, Arys’ herb hadn’t done anything to soothe your nerves, you were still shaking as you reached the Godswood. Eadith helped you put your maiden cloak over your gown before you clutched your father’s arm and started walking beside him, your brothers following you two close.
“You are the most beautiful bride in the whole realm, my dearest,” your father whispered to you as if he could hear your thoughts. “That being said, are you certain about this?”
You stifled a laugh despite the nerves. “Father, we’re quite literally walking in the Godswood to my wedding.”
“So what? I’ll start a war with the North if my beautiful flower has changed her mind.”
You blinked back the tears and shook your head.
“I haven’t changed my mind,” you said. “Nor will I ever, father. I love him.”
“I know sweeting,” he said with a smile, squeezing your hand in an assuring manner. “He loves you too.”
You could see the light of the torchwoods and the weirwood, so you swallowed thickly, your heart slamming against your ribcage before you stole a look at him.
“Father?”
“Yes dearest?”
“Thank you,” you said, making him turn his head to you. “For everything. I know that you like to say mother would be proud of me, but she’d be proud of you too, and how happy you’ve made me my whole life.”
You could see the tears rushing to his eyes but he let out a breath and waved a hand in the air.
“Don’t make me cry in front of all these northerners my flower, they already think we’re not as tough as them.”
That coaxed a small giggle out of you and you nodded your head.
“Alright,” you whispered, catching the sight of Grey Wind and his siblings afar. “Alright, I won’t.”
It was rather strange, how almost every woman, for thousands of years, had said the same words and went through the same ceremony, but somehow you felt as if you were the only one. You knew the ceremony, you had practiced it in your mind thousands of times but now that you were here, your whole mind had gone empty, especially the moment your gaze fell upon Robb.
By the Gods, he was so handsome.
The look of surprise that settled over his face was almost too familiar; it was the very same expression of awe when he had first seen you in that hallway, on your first night in Winterfell. You could hear the whispers of the guests as your father led you to the weirwood tree, and you gave Robb a tentative smile that made him let out a breath as if he was in too much of a daze at the sight of you. Your heart was beating in your ears so loud that for a moment, you were worried all these people could hear it over the words being exchanged; with Lord Stark asking who came before the gods, and your father introducing you and himself and your house, and Robb introducing himself as well. Much like steps to a dance, you found yourself repeating the words in your head along with them as they spoke, and it was almost a relief to find that no one said a different word than what you had already memorized.
In a second now, Lord Stark was going to ask you—
Your head snapped up when you heard your name, and Lord Stark gave you a small nod.
“Do you take this man?”
Seven hells, who were you going to look at when you made your vows? You had forgotten to ask that, were you supposed to look at the tree or Robb?
You swallowed thickly and decided to focus your gaze on Robb’s handsome face, praying that it was the right move.
“I take this man,” you said, your voice not shaky by a miracle, and a smile curled Robb’s lips before he let out an exhale of relief. He held out his hand and you entwined your fingers with his, then you knelt down before the weirwood tree with him, the whole Godswood going quiet while it waited for your silent prayer.
I know I’m not of the north, you prayed in your head, closing your eyes, but thank you. For him and for this, thank you. I’ll try my hardest to earn your approval, I swear it.
You could see the darkness behind your eyelids light up just a little as if someone lit a thousand candles. The moment you opened your eyes, you had to blink a couple of times because of the sudden brightness, then lifted your head to look up at the full moon bathing you in silver. Grey Wind howled at the moon, his siblings joining him immediately while you stole a glance at Robb who looked like he couldn’t drag his gaze from you.
That was a good sign from the gods if you said so yourself.
Lord Stark cleared his throat as if he was giving him a signal, and Robb snapped out of his daze before he helped you up, and went behind you to take your maiden cloak off your back. You could hear the surprised gasps of the guests at the sight of your gown shining under direct moonlight before Robb placed his own cloak over your shoulders, then dipped his head so that you could hear him.
“You look very beautiful tonight, my lady,” he murmured, his smile apparent in his voice. “You and your gown.”
You had to swallow your giggle before you turned your head. You could now see everyone under the moonlight; Lady Stark was smiling wider than you had ever seen her before, Sansa was wiping at her eyes while Arya clung to Jon’s side with a small frown. Rickon looked rather confused at the reason why Sansa crying and tugged at Bran’s sleeve to whisper something to him but Bran shook his head, whispering something back. You could see your father clasping Silas’s shoulder who faked a cough and used that pretense to wipe at his eyes, Elinor leaned her head on Alton’s shoulder, squeezing his arm as he rubbed her back. Cliff offered Arys his flask, and Perceon grabbed it before Arys could, earning a warning hiss from Braxton. Lord Stark gave you and Robb a smile and approached Lady Stark, all the guests making their way away from the weirwood tree and in the direction of the keep. You nibbled on your lip, at last turning your gaze to Robb to beam at him.
“Good evening, my husband.”
“Good evening, my wife,” he greeted you back, that fond light playing in his eyes before he kissed your temple. “Ready?”
“For what?”
Your answer came in the form of him literally sweeping you off your feet to lift you up in his arms, the high pitched squeal that escaped you echoing in the woods, earning laughter from the crowd. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging tight.
“Robb!”
“I’m supposed to carry you to the feast,” he told you with a wink. “Northern customs. Did they forget to tell you about that part?”
An hour, the second piece of Arys’ herb and multiple drinks later, you were finally relaxed and having fun.
Had it been an hour or two? Or mayhaps three, you really couldn’t tell.
But what you could tell was, from your first dance alone, Robb was a very good dancer even though he preferred not to take part in the rest of the dances. It wasn’t just you having fun, a lot of northerners had already told you that this was the biggest celebration the North had ever seen, and though you weren’t familiar with the other northern celebrations, you were very familiar with southern ones.
And this surpassed even the biggest feast back in the Reach.
You had danced with everyone after Robb. You had danced with your father, and your brothers, and Lord Stark, you had even danced with little Rickon and Bran; both of whom had very serious expressions on their faces as if it was the most important matter, so you had made sure to compliment their dancing skills afterwards.
In addition to that, as a very pleasant surprise, the southerners and northerners looked like they were getting along much better than anyone could’ve anticipated. In fact, you had already heard multiple of your friends planning to exchange letters with their northern dance partners once they were back in the Reach, and many lords and ladies seemed rather taken with each other. Loras had asked you for a dance for old times’ sake, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were back in the Reach, like you were going to rush back to Margaery once the dance was over.
“The infamous Knight of Flowers,” you teased him as you circled each other and he grinned.
“The infamous Blossom of the Reach,” he teased you back. “Or do we call you the Flower of Winterfell now?”
You let out a giggle as you took a step towards each other, your movements fluid as if you were trailing on water, both of you too trained to look anything but perfect.
“You seem happier than ever, and that’s saying something.”
“I am!” you chirped. “I really am.”
“Good,” he said with a chuckle before he twirled you, your skirt flowing around you like waves in the ocean. “I really hope he’ll make you happy, Blossom.”
“He will,” you told him. “And can you tell Lady Olenna I said thank you for everything?”
He made a face. “I did not need to know that.”
“I said nothing!”
“You don’t have to say it, I know what it means.”
Your laughter echoed in the hall, your body following the steps of the dance almost on instinct after years and years of practice.
“Blossom.” He took a deep breath, his eyes searching your face. “About Margaery—”
“I’m not talking about her tonight,” you cut him off and he raised his brows, then nodded.
“Very well,” he said after a second. “Just like we’re not talking about what exactly you’re thanking my grandmother for.”
“To repeat, I said nothing!”
“And to repeat, you don’t have to say it,” he joked. “Will I get my face broken by your husband for daring to dance with you? I’m asking because I watched him beat a knight merely two days ago.”
“Loras!”
“But hey, at least now we know the North is in good hands. If the whitewalkers come, he’ll just beat them up.”
You both took a step back before stepping towards each other again, your hands brushing as the dance required.
“I still remember you joking about white walkers to scare me and Margaery off,” you told him, scrunching your nose up. “Father had to swear to me they weren’t real.”
“You were so easily scared as a child,” he reminisced with a chuckle before eyeing you up and down. “Now look at you. The Lady of Winterfell, hm? It’s your turn to scare people.”
You let out a giggle, sticking your nose up in the air with an air of exaggerated arrogance. “And all shall tremble before me.”
When the music came to a stop and applause rippled in the hall, you dropped a curtsy and thanked him, and he bowed before you two walked away from each other back into the crowd. Robb seemed like he was trapped in a conversation with Lord and Lady Karstark, stealing a glance at you while you tilted your head, trying to decide whether you should interrupt or not—
By the gods, Robb was so very handsome.
Someone touched your arm, snapping you out of your thoughts, and you smiled brightly at Arys.
“Hello!”
“Hello back,” he said with a small smile. “Having fun?”
You nodded your head so fast that for a moment you got dizzy.
“So much fun!” You grabbed a goblet from the tray a footman was carrying, then took a sip of wine. “I got upset about Margaery for a moment but um—I wanted to thank you!”
“Thank me for what?”
You took a deep breath. “The herbs you brought, they work! At first I thought they didn’t but they do, I feel so relaxed and calm and…warm, strangely enough.”
He pulled back a little. “Herbs?”
“I was rather nervous earlier, so I checked the herbs you brought me, and I found the pouch with the uh…it looked like pieces of dried roots? It said Relaxing the Mind,” you said. “I had to eat two pieces, but they’re working!”
Arys blinked a couple of times, his gaze falling on the cup in your hand before back to your face.
“You ate two pieces,” he repeated. “And you’ve been drinking?”
You nodded again. “I ate one before the Godswood, and then it didn’t work, so I ate the second piece when I got here.”
It wasn’t everyday Arys was at a loss for words, and the last time you had seen this exact expression on his face was when Braxton had dared Perceon to swallow a dead grasshopper when they were six. He muttered a curse under his breath, running a hand over his eyes before grabbing you by the arm.
“Come with me.”
“Where?”
“Closer to the light, come,” he said and pulled you closer to one of the candles, then tilted your head up. “Let me see your eyes.”
You blinked up at him and he carefully inspected your eyes, then lowered his hand to take out a coin from his pocket.
“Catch this.” He flipped it in your direction and you caught it, then squinted your eyes at him.
“Why are you throwing me a coin?”
“What’s going on?” Silas’s voice made both of you turn to him and Arys licked his lips.
“She’s fine—you’re fine,” he told you and stifled a laugh. “Good news my dear sister, you won’t be nervous at all for the rest of the night.”
You pumped your fist in the air. “Hooray!”
“Bad news is, you might not remember tonight in general.”
“Oh.” You pouted, your shoulders dropping. “Not hooray.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Silas asked and Arys cleared his throat.
“Remind me to give you a very long speech about herbs and responsibilities tomorrow,” he told you, then stopped a footman. “You. Your duty is to bring my sister water for the rest of the night, alright?”
“Yes, m’lord.”
“But I’m drinking wine!”
“You don’t need to drink anymore, trust me.”
“Are you drunk already?” Silas asked you and Arys heaved a sigh.
“Worse.”
“What do you mean worse?” Silas asked, his gaze sharpening in a second. “Arys?”
“Don’t Arys me, I did nothing—”
“He threw me a coin!”
Silas’ frown deepened. “What in the seven hells are you two talking about?”
“He threw me a coin but I caught it,” you said helpfully and Arys pinched the bridge of his nose while you opened your palm to show Silas the coin. “Here. Is it a charm of the sort?”
“Uh, sure. A charm.”
“And his herbs are working, Silas!”
Silas gawked at you in complete silence before he slowly turned his head. “Arys…”
“Before you finish that sentence, let’s all remember that the gods curse the kinslayers,” Arys recited in a solemn manner. “I’m your kin, Silas.”
Silas gave him that perfect courtier smile of his in case anyone was watching. “The gods didn’t say anything about breaking your kin’s jaw, you fucking—”
You gasped when Robb touched the small of your back, a bright smile lighting up your face.
“My betrothed!”
“Your husband, lamb,” Robb corrected you with a smirk before he pressed a kiss on top of your head, and you giggled, hanging onto his arm with both hands to rest your head on his shoulder.
“I forgot,” you said. “It’ll take me a while I think. It’s so strange, being married, you’d think I’d get used to it by now. I mean how long has it been since the weirwood, four hours? Five?”
“Barely two,” Robb said, stifling a chuckle. “How much did you drink?”
“That’s my fault,” Arys said before you could say anything. “She was uh…she was rather nervous, and I gave her an herb to relax her mind. Didn’t think to tell her not to drink, wine heightens the effect.”
Robb’s smirk was replaced by a worried frown in a second. “What?”
“But she’ll be fine!” Arys said in a haste while Silas ran a hand over his face as if trying to control himself. “It poses no danger to her wellbeing at all, she’s just drunk.”
“M’lady.” The footman brought you a cup of water and you smiled at him, then took the cup from him.
“Thank you!”
“Silas!” Your father called out, making him turn his head. “Arys! Come here!”
Silas cursed under his breath while you gulped down your water.
“I’ll be back, just…”
“I’m with her, don’t worry,” Robb assured him. “You go ahead.”
“Come on.” Arys tugged him by the arm and they both made their way to your father while Robb stepped up to stand in front of you, his gaze softening.
“And how does my lady feel?”
You lowered the cup and took a deep breath.
“Time is strangely slow—Robb, I was thinking,” you added, gazing up at him. “Should I tell my gods?”
He reached out to push your hair behind your ear. “Tell them what, my love?”
“That we’re wed,” you said. “I mean your gods already know, but mine might not? I feel like I should go tell them, lest they misunderstand. The sept is right there, I doubt anyone would notice my absence if I tell them very fast and come back—” You stopped mid-sentence when Perceon who was holding a bloodied cloth to his nose entered your sight. “Perce, why are you bleeding?!”
“Oh it’s nothing,” Perceon brushed you off. “Not broken or anything. Robb, is House Fenn important to House Stark?”
“Depends. Why?”
“I just broke their heir’s jaw,” Perceon said, making your eyes widen.
“You what?”
Robb looked rather calm about the issue. “What for?”
“Where’s Braxton?” you insisted and Perceon waved a hand in the air.
“He’s fine, he’s in the rookery.”
“In the middle of my wedding feast?”
“He’s drunk,” Perceon said. “So naturally he decided that it was of utmost importance Myria knew how much he loves her. He is going to send her a raven, I think he’s still writing a letter there.”
You pressed a hand on your chest, getting distracted for a moment by the idea striking your mind. “Robb, we should send each other ravens too!”
“It’d be a short flight,” Robb pointed out, “considering we both live in Winterfell now.”
“It’d still be rather romantic!”
“So anyway, I went out to find him, but on my way there I heard two idiots talking about courting a lady in a very vulgar manner, so of course I had to stop them, and I find breaking someone’s jaw is the perfect way to do so,” He lifted the handkerchief from his nose to motion with his hand. “One is lying in the courtyard face down and the other has multiple broken teeth, I doubt either of them will be able to speak for a while.”
“Good work,” Robb commented while you covered your mouth and Perceon grinned.
“Thank you. Who’s Jorelle Cerwyn?”
You exchanged glances with Robb before lowering your hand. “Why?”
“That’s the lady they were speaking of, and courtesy demands I go apologize to her for letting such talk take place anywhere near me before I stopped it.”
Robb repressed a smile and nodded in Jorelle’s direction, who was in a deep conversation with a lord. “Over there.”
Perceon followed Robb’s line of sight and did a double take the second his eyes found her.
“That one?”
“Aye, in the green gown.”
“…Oh,” Perceon said after a beat and cleared his throat. “How do I look?”
“Bloody,” you replied and Robb smacked his back.
“She’s northern, she won’t mind. Go on.”
Perceon lingered in his spot for a moment before he took a deep breath, then made his way to Jorelle while Robb turned to grin at you.
“Should we have told him about the mistress issue?”
You shoved at his arm. “Very funny.”
“You never know, he might be disturbed by our vast and passionate history of dancing twice—”
“Why did we dance only once?” you cut him off, your brows pulled into a small frown. “You danced with her twice, why did you dance with me once?”
His grin widened. “You’re certain you can dance?”
“That’s the same as asking if I can sleep, Robb,” you whined. “Just as natural for me.”
“Very well then,” he said as he laced his fingers with yours, then lifted your hand to press a kiss on the back of it, making you giggle. “If my lady wife wants to dance, who am I to say no?”
Robb, holding every promise sacred, indeed danced with you as many times as you wanted, so much that eventually Lady Stark had to approached you to remind you that you were both also dance with other people even though it was your wedding feast. Robb entrusted you to Jon, muttering something to his ear that made Jon suppress a laugh though he had looked rather unwilling to dance at first. After you danced with Jon and then with Theon, your brothers pulled Robb aside for some reason while Jon took you to the High Table so that you could sit a little. It was yet another good surprise that he was allowed to sit at the High Table with you during the wedding, but you had a feeling it had less to do with Lady Catelyn and more to do with Robb’s insistence.
When you crossed your arms on the table to rest your head on them, you were still talking with Jon, so you had no idea when exactly it was that you dozed off. All you knew was that one moment you were talking to Jon about how he had to see the Reach, and the other you were having the weirdest dream about someone asking Robb—very loudly— whether it was the time for the bedding ceremony, and many guests cheering for it.
“There will not be one, Lord Burley,” Robb’s voice had none of the warmth it usually held with you, earning many displeased groans from the hall.
“Robb, it’s the tradition!”
“Aye, it is!”
“Come on!”
“The whole Reach came all this way!”
“We came all this way too!”
“There will not be a bedding ceremony,” Robb repeated sternly. “If anyone wants to disagree, make sure to ask Ser Gwayne how his injuries feel first.”
His words had the same effect of drawing a sword, the whole hall falling into stunned silence for a couple of seconds before Ser Gwayne spoke.
“Not good!” he called out, making laughter erupt in the hallway, dissipating the tension in the air. “Wouldn’t say it’s a pleasant experience.”
Music and loud chatter filled the room again, and you felt yourself being pulled out of the comfortable embrace of sleep as Robb’s soft murmur of your name caressed your ears, his hand on the small of your back. You raised your head, squinting your eyes at the bright light, barely aware of the pout on your lips before you blinked a couple of times, trying to focus. He helped you up and your father forced a smile as if he was trying to hide the worried look in his eyes.
“Good night, my dearest.”
“Good night father,” you muttered, leaning to Robb’s side before he scooped you up into his arms. Your head dropped to the crook of his neck, your fingers curling into his shirt as he carried you out of the hall, away from the chatter and music. You repressed a yawn while he walked down the hallway, then started climbing the stairs.
“I wasn’t done dancing,” you murmured. “I was just resting.”
Laughter vibrated in his chest as he reached the top of the stairs, then turned the corner to step into the hallway leading to his bedchambers. “You can dance all you want tomorrow, time to retire now.”
“Where’s Grey Wind?”
“In the Godswood with his siblings,” he said. “Too many people in the hall.”
“We must make sure to see him tomorrow, I don’t want him to feel excluded.” You couldn’t stop your yawn this time. “I have so much to tell you, I’ve met so many people, and I think some of them like me. Well, I hope. I don’t know, northerners smile less than southerners so it’s still rather difficult to tell, but they seemed rather friendly. And Jon isn’t half bad when it comes to dancing, I have no idea why he looked that tormented at the suggestion of it.”
“That’s just his face at this point.”
“And before I forget,” you mumbled, “I’m glad you were so calm and polite to Lord Meadows’ comment about Winterfell’s warmth.”
“What do you mean, calm and polite?” He frowned down at you. “Wasn’t he asking about how we keep it warm?”
You shook your head, trying to keep your eyes open though they felt like they weighed a ton. “No, he was being rude.”
“Is that why you brought his castle into it?” he asked with a small laugh. “When you said he had nothing to worry about the upcoming winter in the Reach, because his castle is small and cozy?”
“That was an insult.” You nodded this time. “I insulted him.”
“I will never understand the way you southerners speak.” He opened the door to his bedchambers, stepped in, then closed the door and made his way to the bed to put you on it gently.
Despite your vision being slightly hazy because of wine, you could still tell that the room looked exactly like how you described it to him. There was a sofa and a smaller table by the fireplace, a plate of fresh fruit and a bottle of wine and two cups on it. The furs bundled up in front of the fireplace looked so cozy that if you could stand, you would go and bury your hands into them to see if they were as soft as they appeared. The bed looked nothing like how you remembered it either; each corner of it had a wooden column carved with direwolves. The sheer curtains draped around it made it look out of an enticing dream in the candle light, and your eyes darted over the carvings of snarling direwolves on the huge headboard before you reached out to trace the small figure of a lamb with a smile.
“It’s so beautiful,” you breathed out, sleep still laced in your voice even though you tried your hardest to sound sober. Robb pulled the half folded sheet on top of the actual sheet from underneath you, coaxing a giggle out of you while he walked to the small table to grab the knife from the fruit plate. You lifted yourself on your elbows and narrowed your eyes to get rid of the blurriness on the corners of your vision while he nicked his thumb.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing of importance my love, go back to sleep.” He came back to the bed to let the blood drip from his finger to the half folded sheet before he threw it near the door so that the maids could pick it up next morning when they entered the room, though you had no idea why he wanted to stain a perfectly good sheet. Although you wanted to ask him, you were rather exhausted and your eyes were way too heavy to keep them open so you fell back on the bed.
“Robb?” you murmured into the pillow when he sat beside you on the bed, and you couldn’t help but heave a sigh when he leaned in to kiss your forehead, his pleasant scent filling your lungs.
“Yes, my beautiful wife?”
You let out a giggle. “We’re bound forever now.”
“We are,” he whispered, his voice as soft as his touch on your cheekbone. “Finally.”
And in less than a mere second, the warm haze of sleep claimed you, pulling you into darkness.
Oh we love a considerate man 🙂↕️ Robb really did think of everything. And I love how he wasn't even mad about the fact that she fell asleep immediately, he was just happy to finally be her husband (offically) and to have her in his room 🩷 that's all he wants, everything else is secondary
Also I love that Grey Wind gets to spend time with his siblings, I feel like that is a part that people usually leave out and forget about but like, he has a family too 🥺 and it's not just Robb, it's his siblings too. I feel like especially during the war arc he would be missing them so much and then all three of them would be going through the same.. Grey Wind doesn't have his siblings around, Robb has half his family taken away and has to leave the other half behind and Blossom is separated from all her brothers by the war 🥺
Everyone talks about Neil banging out the tunes, but no one talks about the fact that there are four known images of Neil, which document him learning piano in a single day! Now that is talent!
