I'm so sorry for the delay. I'm busy with work. I hope you like it so far 🥺.
I know the reader doesn't have a description of her appearance yet, but she'll get there. But for now, imagine her with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes, slim and tall. 😉
Taglist: @sebbymybaby21
Part 3
AI GENERATED
I have to admit, I hadn't thought it through very well. I often tend to make impulsive decisions, and sooner or later, I always end up paying for them.
Weeks had passed since the letter the Starks received from the capital, and during those weeks, Robb had taken complete command of Winterfell. Seven days ago, the last of Lord Eddard's bannermen had finally arrived.
The castle was bustling with preparations for our departure. It was practically overflowing with people.
And me?
I knew no one.
Robb barely had time to look in my direction anymore, and Lady Catelyn still had not returned from her journey. Little Rickon still didn't understand what was happening, but he constantly asked for and searched for his father.
The only person left to keep me company was Bran.
The poor boy lay completely helpless in his bed, and every time I looked into his eyes, I saw longing as he stared out the window toward the courtyard.
I was not someone who felt pity often.
As my father used to say, "You're as emotionless as a roadside stone."
But I pitied Bran.
His life had ended before it had truly begun.
I wished I had been here sooner.
Though, what could I have done?
Robb and his mother were convinced it had been a Lannister—one of them, at least. But according to information from someone called Littlefinger, it had been Tyrion Lannister, the youngest and most misshapen son.
They were the richest and most powerful family in Westeros. A family that believed everything could be bought and won with gold—even honor.
But honor was never something you could purchase.
You either had it or you didn't.
From the moment I arrived in Westeros, I hated them.
As far as I could tell, they had done nothing worthy of respect.
Their sigil was a golden lion on a crimson field.
The lion was a proud animal, and pride seemed to be all the Lannisters possessed.
Not to mention that a few days before Lady Catelyn left, someone had attempted to murder Bran.
What kind of monster would want to kill a crippled child in his own bed?
"How long will you be gone?" Bran asked, sitting propped up against his pillows.
"I can't tell you. Your brother doesn't know either," I replied, trying to sound calm despite not feeling that way. "But one thing is certain. We're going to King's Landing and bringing back your father, Sansa, and Arya."
"Them... or their bones?"
The boy sounded completely calm as he said it.
Terrifyingly calm.
"Bran! What kind of nonsense is that? Where would you even get such an idea?" Even I was startled.
"The crow told me."
"The crow from my dream. It said my lord father would return home, but not as the man who left."
"What dream? What crow? Of course he'll be changed. Stress like this changes people."
I was thinking rationally.
Bran had been through a great deal.
Not only Lord Eddard, but Bran himself had suffered enormously.
A child's mind sometimes created strange fantasies.
"That's what you think."
He began picking at his fingernails.
"Well, we'd better be going. I'm glad we talked."
I had just reached the door and was pressing down on the handle—
"Y/N!"
Bran called after me.
"Yes?"
"The crow said something about you too."
He stopped looking at his nails and turned his gaze toward me.
"The next time we meet, you'll be the most powerful woman in Westeros."
For several seconds, I simply stood there in shock.
Then I laughed, waved to Bran, and left.
Ah, the imagination of children.
He was probably just worried about us.
And with good reason.
In a few minutes, we would be leaving.
We had been traveling for weeks.
Our destination was the Riverlands and Lady Catelyn's family. Her father, Lord Hoster Tully, was bedridden and in very poor health, but her brother had taken command.
They would join us, and together we would continue toward the capital.
Lady Catelyn had also sent word that she had captured Tyrion Lannister at some roadside inn and taken him to her sister, Lady Lysa Arryn, at the Eyrie.
There they would question him and pass judgment for what he had done to Bran.
Robb spoke to me less and less these days.
He was constantly surrounded by the bannermen of his father and uncle.
He was no longer the boy to whom I had become betrothed.
The faint beard growing along his jaw gave him a wild, rugged appeal fitting for a son of the North.
"My lady!"
A voice I despised sounded somewhere farther down the column.
"Theon!"
The idiot appeared beside me, matching his horse's pace to mine.
"Why is my lady riding alone in the middle of the column?" His voice was oily and drawn out, matching the grin on his face.
"And where should I be riding, my lord... Oh, forgive me, I meant Theon?"
Theon Greyjoy was incapable of hiding his emotions. Every bit of irritation showed plainly on his face.
And I loved that.
"Perhaps at the front with your betrothed?" The smug smile returned.
"He's surrounded by his men. I don't think he needs my company right now."
The truth was quite different.
Lord Karstark had informed me the previous day that they had no need for an empty-headed pretty face getting in their way—especially not at the front.
He disliked me solely because I wasn't a Northerner.
"A shame. I don't mind your company at all. In fact, I quite enjoy it. Robb will have another council tonight. If you'd like, you can come to my tent and keep me company."
Ever since I'd known him, Theon had been exactly like this.
Constantly and shamelessly flirting.
"I prefer the company of my Violet."
She might have been a horse, but there was one major difference between her and Greyjoy.
She was smarter.
I urged Violet forward before hearing his sarcastic reply.
---
That evening, after the camp had been set up, I decided to wear my grey dress along with the deer-hide cloak Robb had given me as a personal gift.
I wanted to surprise him in his tent.
The candlelight cast soft shadows throughout the space.
Robb sat behind a large, sturdy desk, reading several letters.
"My lord?" I called from the entrance. "May I come in?"
"Of course."
He stood and walked around the desk.
"Come here."
I stopped in front of him.
I was tall for a woman, but he was still taller.
Robb placed his hands on my waist and pulled me closer.
"You look incredible in this," he whispered near my ear, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
His lips brushed lightly along my ear before moving toward the pulse beating rapidly in my throat.
His hands slid upward, stopping at the ties of my dress.
The ribbon I had carefully tied began to loosen.
"Shouldn't we wait until the wedding?" I asked.
Gods, why did my voice sound so nervous?
"You're mine either way. Does it really matter whether it's now or later?"
He smiled.
"I want you here with me. Right now."
Could anyone really refuse that charming smile?
I didn't know what to expect.
I'd heard stories from servants and cousins, but despite everything, I felt incredibly nervous.
Would Robb be happy with me?
His lips met mine in a passionate kiss.
The nervous knot in my chest only grew stronger.
"Ahem."
A loud clearing of a throat sounded from the entrance.
"Mother!"
Robb immediately stepped away from me.
"Lady Catelyn," I greeted awkwardly, quickly retightening the ties of my dress.
"Good evening to both of you."
She was visibly flustered herself.
"I do hope you remember that such activities are meant for after the wedding."
"Yes, Mother," Robb replied, staring at the ground.
"I'll leave you to it. Good evening."
I hurried toward the exit as quickly as possible.
On my way out, I nearly collided with one of the messengers entering the tent.
I hadn't gone very far when a loud crash echoed from Robb's tent, as though something heavy had been thrown to the ground and shattered.
But that was nothing.
A few seconds later, Lady Stark's voice rang out.
A horrifying scream.
Something between overwhelming rage...
and unbearable grief.
"NO! NOT NED! NOT MY NED! NOOOOOOOOO!"
The scream cut through the camp like a blade.
For a heartbeat, everything seemed to freeze.
Men stopped talking.
Horses shifted nervously.
Even the wind itself felt still.
My stomach dropped.
No.
No, no, no.
Without thinking, I turned and ran back toward the tent.
By the time I reached it, soldiers, guards, and bannermen were already gathering outside.
No one dared enter.
No one dared speak.
Inside, Lady Catelyn had collapsed into a chair, clutching a crumpled piece of parchment in trembling hands.
Tears streamed down her face.
Robb stood motionless beside the table.
The color had drained entirely from his face.
For a moment, he looked like a frightened boy again rather than the young lord commanding an army.
"Robb?" I whispered.
Slowly, his eyes lifted to meet mine.
They looked hollow.
Broken.
As though something inside him had died.
His lips parted, but no sound came out.
The parchment slipped from his fingers and drifted to the floor.
Finally, in a voice so quiet I almost didn't hear it, he spoke.
"They killed him."
The words struck harder than any sword.
Around us, the tent fell silent.
No one moved.
No one breathed.
"They executed my father."
A long, terrible silence followed.
Then Robb's hands clenched into fists.
The grief vanished from his face, replaced by something far more frightening.
Cold fury.
The fury of the North.
"They murdered Lord Eddard Stark."
His voice grew stronger with every word.
"They murdered an innocent man."
Outside, the gathered lords and soldiers had heard.
The camp was no longer silent.
Angry voices began rising.
Curses.
Shouts.
Calls for vengeance.
Robb looked toward the men gathering beyond the tent walls.
Then back at his mother.
Then at me.
When he spoke again, his voice carried the weight of a king long before a crown ever touched his head.
"Has your father been arrested?" Robb had come to my chambers immediately after the council meeting they had called.
"Yes. Those traitorous, treacherous Lannisters, the Queen, and our new king..." Robb was furious. He was trying to hold himself together—in front of me and in front of everyone who was watching him and waiting for... What exactly were they waiting for?
"A new king?" What had happened to King Robert?
"Yes. Prince Joffrey is our new king. His father was mortally wounded during a hunt and died shortly afterward. His son ascended the throne and ordered my father thrown into the dungeons." Robb slammed his fist into my dressing table with all his strength. Small cracks appeared in the wood where he had struck it. "They're accusing him of treason, Y/N. Treason! Can you imagine that?"
Truthfully, I could not. Lord Eddard was the most honorable and righteous man I knew—perhaps even more so than my own father.
"Listen to me, Robb." I cupped his face with both hands, forcing him to look at me. "Everything will be alright. They'll realize he's innocent and they'll release him."
"It's not that simple. The letter wasn't from a maester or from our new king. It was from Sansa—our own sister. She says our father is a traitor and that, for his sake and ours, we should come to King's Landing and bend the knee to Joffrey and the Queen Regent, his mother. She wants us to embrace the lion."
"Sansa is frightened. She's alone and..." I paused. "Wait. You're not saying anything about Arya. How is she?"
"Sansa only mentions our father and that his men are dead."
From the expression on his face, I understood he meant slaughtered.
"She says absolutely nothing about Arya."
With a heavy sigh, Robb sat on the edge of my bed while his direwolf, Grey Wind, lay at his feet.
I approached cautiously. Grey Wind had never minded me before. We even played together, and he allowed me to brush his fur. But now, with his master distressed, I didn't know what he might do to protect him.
Grey Wind merely lifted his muzzle, sniffed me, and lay back down.
Robb, meanwhile, rested his head against my stomach, and my hand found its way into his hair.
"What do you intend to do?" I didn't dare raise my voice above a whisper.
"I'll call the banners. Then I'll go and free my father and bring my sisters home."
"And what am I supposed to do?"
"What do you want to do?" His grey-blue eyes met my dark brown ones.
"I'm coming with you."
The words left my mouth before I had even thought them through.
"Are you sure?" Robb stood abruptly and took both my hands in his. "It will be very dangerous."
"I'll be safe as long as I'm with you."
In response, he simply smiled.
Then, a moment later, he kissed me.
It was our first kiss—my first kiss ever.
It was warm, and somehow it made me feel even more certain of my decision.
But his lips left mine just as quickly as they had found them.
Hello!
I'm starting to write fanfiction because I really like writing and it helps me shake off the stressful everyday life. I hope you like it.
This one will be in many parts, I hope you like it, please comment 🥺🙏.
Warnings: mention of death.
The fanfiction is about Lord Tywin Lannister.
Plot: "When the wolf and the lion interlock claws, the prize is not just the victory of war, but something far more enchanting"
The characters from "Game of Thrones" do not belong to me!!
The frosty morning air rushed through the open window of my chambers, reminding me where I actually was. I was not prepared for this cold at all; I had only packed a light, airy nightgown in my luggage. But in my defense, nobody told me that even the horses' water freezes here unless it is poured warm from the hot mineral springs. I consider myself a person who easily gets cold.Yet, despite everything, here I am in the midst of the cold, in the vast winter wasteland, in the heart of the North. In Winterfell.I arrived in Westeros a few days ago, now completely officially. I had been here before, but my visits were brief, just long enough for them to negotiate the wedding details. I come from distant lands far south of Westeros, and the journey here definitely required a lot of time and effort; we mostly relied on ships. I was here with my butler, Velizar—my father's right hand and his most trusted advisor. In his early fifties, for as long as I can remember, he has been constantly complaining, mostly about my behavior. I admit I can become quite blunt and stubborn at times.They aimed to marry me off since early childhood to various princes and old, fat, bald lords. I managed to avoid it for long years quite successfully, so much so that the elders from my father's council did not even want to bring up the topic of me and marriage in the same sentence. This continued until my father, the king, grew tired of my resentment. And two years ago, he began preparing me for my marriage.Years ago, when he was young, he had spent some time here in Westeros; this is where he met my mother, and the two of them returned to my homeland. Over the years, his only friend from here remained Lord Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.And for this reason, the two families are now to be united through marriage—through me. I was destined to marry the eldest son of Ned Stark. Rob Stark.And so, my game of delay was over.
Despite the constant cold, I love walking through the castle and visiting the Godswood, even though I do not worship those gods myself.
This morning, I dressed warmly because it was colder than usual. Perhaps the Starks are right—winter really is coming. Lady Catelyn made sure I had proper winter clothes. When she saw what I had actually packed, she simply shook her head and immediately ordered new garments to be made for me.
On my way to the Godswood, I passed through the courtyard where the men and young boys were training with swords. And there he was—my fiancé, Robb Stark, in all his glory. I had been assured countless times that he was an excellent fighter, and every time he proved it. He truly was handsome: tall, wielding his sword with confidence, his auburn-brown hair swaying around his head like a halo of curls.
Then, at that moment, his blue-grey eyes fixed on me. His trademark charming smile spread across his face. Lately, I had noticed that smile appeared only for me.
"My lady," Robb's voice rang across the courtyard.
Several of the others stopped their training and turned in my direction.
Robb approached me, still slightly out of breath, and suddenly all attention was focused on me. I could feel the stares of the young girls burning into my back. Every one of them wished they were in my place. He had many admirers—and for good reason.
"Has my lady come to watch my training?" he asked.
I adored it when he smiled at me like that, his humor always carrying a hint of playful teasing.
"I decided to watch for a little while, though I certainly didn't mean to interrupt."
"You haven't interrupted me. I'm taking a break. Where are you headed?"
"To the Godswood. I want to take a walk on this cold morning."
"Cold? How can it be cold?" He dramatically fanned his face with his hand. "I'd say it's exceptionally warm today."
"You Starks never cease to amaze me."
"The blood of the First Men runs through our veins. Winter does not frighten us," he declared proudly.
"Well... perhaps you're right. It is cold," he admitted with an awkward laugh. "May I accompany you?"
A small smile appeared on my face once more, and I nodded lightly in response.
Robb removed his training armor, and together we set off on my walk.
"I'm so sorry I couldn't see your father before he left."
Lord Eddard had departed for the capital to serve as Hand of King Robert.
"He left many greetings for you."
"Yes, my lady. Your mother already passed them on to me."
"You know we don't have to speak so formally when we're alone, don't you?"
We walked side by side.
"Yes, I would like that, Robb."
"And I would like that too, Y/N!"
We both burst into laughter, now far from the curious eyes of others. From the outside, we probably looked like complete idiots.
"What will you do today?" he asked.
"Well, after I finish my walk, I'll go have breakfast..."
"Wait—you haven't had breakfast yet?!" he interrupted in surprise, though there was understanding in his eyes. "You should eat first. You could make yourself ill. I'll tell the servants to bring your meal as soon as you wake up."
"That's not necessary..."
"No, I won't hear another word about it." He looked at me with a crooked smile. "Sorry for interrupting. Please continue."
"As I was saying, after that I'll do some reading and spend some time talking with Bran. He needs company besides Old Nan. Not that I have anything against her, but Bran needs..."
"My lord Robb!"
The Maester's voice interrupted me.
"A letter has arrived from King's Landing. It concerns your lord father."
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