The Young Wolf

We shall howl in the fields of night for our fallen heroes. Long may the wolf prey on the enemies of the North.

[jakesperalta-archive-deactivate]

social media aesthetics + game of thrones

house stark → when the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives 

a bonus gift for my lovely secret santa @direwolvess

​

[ohladydimitrescu]

[worshipsonlydeath]

She flinched at Robb's touch, taking a second to catch her breath. When the second hand rested on her other shoulder, Arya blinked back tears, swallowing gunk in the back of her throat, slowly raising her gaze to meet her brother's, chest still heaving from uneven breaths.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

How she willed herself to keep together. But the tears were already streaming and she was so tired. "I don't know," finally came the answer. She didn't know what she was supposed to do, where she was meant to go. If she could not feel the warmth of his hands on her shoulders, Arya would convince herself that she was hallucinating.

"You're real..."

[russetwolf]

When she flinched away from him, Robb didn't try to follow, his hands hovering carefully. The last thing he wanted was to scare her in any way. But when it became clear that it was only a first, initial reaction and not because of him, he let his hands settle on her shoulder again. Gods, he just wanted to pull her close, comfort her somehow.

"I'm real," he promised and swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I swear I'm real."

Sometimes he didn't feel like it, more like a ghost haunting a shell. But here he was.

Gods, it was impossible to watch his little sister cry. Robb had reached the end of his tether, and he finally pulled her in, carefully, tenderly, and wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm so glad I found you..."

[worshipsonlydeath]

Broth, porridge... Arya searched the pots, finding some remanent of stew from the feast raging just hours ago. The pot still had lingering heat so she ladled some into a bowl and set it before Robb, before continuing her rummaging through the kitchen, staying ever in movement. The fear if she stopped the gravity of the situation would crumble wavering resolve.

She set down a chalice of water as well and other items each time she passed him, fruit, pastry, meat, whatever was warm and fresh. Mind occupied by next steps. Her plan had been to go south, back to King's Landing, kill the Queen. That wouldn't be viable with Robb. He'd need a place to rest, recover, and from the way he had looked at her when she told him the fate of House Frey... Arya hadn't found it in herself to share his gaze since. She did not want to see his disappointment, potential repulsion at the blood on her hands.

Regrets? Arya didn't have it in her to have regrets. The Freys had no mercy, broke guest right, murdered innocents, at least she had the decency to spare those who had no part in the treachery.

Heading north would not be ideal, she already had hesitations traveling through the Neck alone, but guiding Robb through a swamp would be too difficult. There was a chance for guaranteed shelter, anonymity, and food at the Inn at the crossroads if Hot Pie was still there. Her hands felt unsteady for the first time in months and the ache in her side reminding her to breathe. They would be fine. Things were different now. She could handle it. She was stronger, faster, better, braver.

Arya continued to pace, thinking aloud now for Robb's sake. It'd been so long that it seemed foreign having to force herself to verbalize plans when she'd only had to account for her own abilities for so long.

"I have a horse. Do you think you can ride on your own? We could attach a wagon, I suppose. A wheelhouse would draw too much attention. I stayed in an abandoned home not too far from here. We can't go north. The Boltons have Winterfell and you're in no state if we were to draw a fight."

[russetwolf]

The scent wafting up from the bowl of food put before him was enough for Robb to forget absolutely everything else for a while. His mouth watered almost painfully, his stomach gurgled, and he had to force himself to slow down and not devour the entire thing in moments.

The first spoonful was warmth and flavour exploding on his tongue. Robb shuddered near silently, almost bit his tongue, and then ate more, and his world narrowed to this while Arya bustling around him faded into soothing background noise.

He wasn't sure how much time passed, but suddenly, the bowl was empty, and Robb looked at the pot, wanting more. But Arya started speaking again, briefly pulling his attention towards her.

"I can ride," he said - he'd be damned if he could not hold himself upright on a horse. But then his hand clenched around the spoon and a wave of that old, black hatred washed over him.

The Boltons held Winterfell? The North?

Jaw clenching, Robb pulled himself up off the bench to refill his bowl, this time anchored entirely into the here and now.

"I need you to tell me exactly what happened ever since - the wedding."

[russetwolf]

"There are times I near forget you are a man now, when it seems so short a time since you were running about my skirts. And then there are moments when I feel as if I am looking at Ned, and I am reminded how grown you are."

Robb had never thought that any of this could happen. In his mind - a child's mind - he had expected that everything would stay as it was. That his father would be Lord of Winterfell for years and years to come, that Robb would get to grow and learn from him, learn everything he could. He would marry and have children of his own that his father and mother would hold on their knees.

In his mind, there had been years and years of the mostly peaceful life he had known before, eventually, they would die the way they were supposed to, old and happy and at peace, and he would be ready to be Lord of Winterfell and lead the North.

He had never expected this. Had never wanted this.

And as much as he needed to play at being grown up, at being a king, sometimes when it was only the two of them, Robb needed to put down the mask.

"Mother..."

Please, can we not just go back home?

But he couldn't, they couldn't, and all he could do was to hug his mother close to him and hope for just a smidgen of the comfort she had unfailingly given him as a child.

[russetwolf]

repost     &     fill     in     the     words     you     most     associate     with     your     character  .

animal  :   direwolf

color  :   muted dark blue, auburn, brown, grey, white

month  :   october

song  :   karmina - all the king's horses

I knock the ice from my bones Try not to feel the cold Caught in a thought of that time When everything was fine - everything was mine Run with my hands on my eyes Blind but I’m still alive Free to go back on my own But is it still a home when you’re all alone? All the king’s horses and all the king’s men Couldn’t put me back together again

number  :    5

day or night  :   day

plant  :   rowan tree

smell  :   frosty air, furs, pine wood, leather

season  :   autumn

food  :   freshly baked bread with herb butter

astrological sign  :   cancer

element  :   earth

drink  :   cream of wheat

tagged by: @gachcuid (thank you!!)

tagging: I think everyone I know on here has either already been tagged or isn't active anymore, so anyone who sees this!

[worshipsonlydeath]

@russetwolf continued from here Arya was still looking at him like she didn’t trust anything she was seeing, like she was going to wake up any moment, or like he’d pull a blade on her any second. It was so jarring to see, and Robb ached for the girl she used to be, who had never looked at him like his even once. Had they all gone through terrible things as a price for still being alive? Hearing her say she’d been there, at the Twins, was a shock that made Robb cold and numb at the same time. Even being reminded of what had happened there made his mind recoil, a sliver of ice going through his spine, everything in him simply refusing. “Arya…” Robb didn’t know what to say, what to do. He wished they could just go home, but… there was nowhere for them to go anymore at all, was there? Grey Wind whined quietly and shifted closer, half wrapping himself around Robb’s legs like he knew exactly how he was feeling. Robb sank both hands into his fur and tried to breathe. “Where - Where are you going?”

The screams and clashing of metal haunted her. In her sleep, the sounds of The Twins followed her, the fighting in the dimly lit night, the Hound's large hands around her in a death grip so she couldn't move. Arya had grieved their father's death. The helplessness trying to make her way from the statue before Yoren yanked her back. It happening again at the Red Wedding, she couldn't break free, always being held back. Always too late.

Where was she going? She couldn't recall anymore. There was Polliver, then the Hound and the coin from Jaqen. Right. All she had to do was show someone going to Braavos the coin and-- "I was... I'm just..."

oh, she'd dropped it.

Arya put Needle down, lowering herself to the dock and combing her hands along the cracks trying to find the coin, growing more frantic until hands touched cool metal. What would be the point in going Essos now? If Robb was here...and Robb was here.

He was alive, so what now? She gripped the iron coin tight in her palm, nails digging into flesh, trying to keep her breathing leveled. She shouldn't go, right? But where were two lone wolves meant to go?

[russetwolf]

With Grey Wind's fur between his fingers, Robb aligned his breathing with the soft rise and fall under his hands and watched as Arya scrambled to find something on the dock. And then, suddenly, from one moment to the other, she was there. His little sister.

"Oh."

He let go of his wolf, stepped around him and towards this girl he had grown up with, who may look different but was still her, and finally put a careful hand onto her shoulder.

"Arya... hey."

Robb tried to make her look at him, gently put his other hand on her shoulder too.

"Come here, huh?"

[theyoungwolfofwinterfell-blog1]

[worshipsonlydeath]

The plan was coming together, details and need-to-dos building atop another. It'd be easy to gather some more supplies, she already packed her horse but was sure there'd be many more to spare with every Frey responsible for the Red Wedding dead and gone. The women, children, innocents had been spared and she knew from living in the Twins that it'd be unlikely anyone left would challenge her. The family itself hardly kind to their servants and smallfolk that so depended on them.

It took longer than she'd like to help Robb out of the dungeons, a constant game in needing to slow herself down and not rush him beyond his capabilities.

"Winter came for House Frey," is all the explanation she gave, not bothering to speak quietly. If anyone intended to take issue, Arya would gladly dispatch them with her blade. She guided Robb to the kitchens instead, helping him to a seat before rummaging through, pulling foods that would travel well and among the leftovers from the feast.

"What can you stomach?" Before Robb had the opportunity, she knocked the jug of wine beside him over for safe measure. "Don't touch any of the wine."

[russetwolf]

Winter came for House Frey.

The words sent a shudder down Robb's spine. There had been a time, early in his imprisonment, when grief had made room for barely tamable, red-hot fury. When he had wanted nothing more than for the Freys to pay for what they had done, to strangle them all with his bare hands. There had been nothing else for him to do, so the fantasies had filled his empty hours for days on end, until he had no energy for them left.

But another part of him couldn't help but wonder what the price had been for the cold running through his little sister's words.

But he shouldn't think about that right now, should count his blessings instead. Even though her sudden panic over the wine and the implication of that were impossible to miss.

"Is there - Broth?" he guessed, a little too hopeful, mouth watering at the thought. "Porridge works... bread...?" Robb added on with a lot less enthusiasm. But it didn't matter. As long as there was something in him that would give him the energy to stay on his feet for however long she needed him to.

[leias]

War had melted all the softness from his face and left him hard and lean.

[worshipsonlydeath]

Beric Dondarrion, the name rings familiar, there were stories and she had seen it herself during her time with the Brotherhood. It made enough sense, yet for a girl so desperate to believe, this felt exactly the sort of cruel trick fate would pull. To offer hope, then rip it away.

She was so desperate to believe, it clouded better judgement, the voice within that compelled her to survive the unthinkable. Arya lowered her blade, taking a step back instead of approaching, already conceding what she could manage.

“I was at the Twins. I saw…” The words don’t come, how could she describe the slaughter of her father’s men, of Robb’s men. The would-have-been resting place of her brother and their mother. The grief. The last bastion of innocence within that scattered like glass, never whole again.

[russetwolf]

Arya was still looking at him like she didn't trust anything she was seeing, like she was going to wake up any moment, or like he'd pull a blade on her any second. It was so jarring to see, and Robb ached for the girl she used to be, who had never looked at him like his even once. Had they all gone through terrible things as a price for still being alive?

Hearing her say she'd been there, at the Twins, was a shock that made Robb cold and numb at the same time. Even being reminded of what had happened there made his mind recoil, a sliver of ice going through his spine, everything in him simply refusing.

"Arya..."

Robb didn't know what to say, what to do. He wished they could just go home, but... there was nowhere for them to go anymore at all, was there?

Grey Wind whined quietly and shifted closer, half wrapping himself around Robb's legs like he knew exactly how he was feeling. Robb sank both hands into his fur and tried to breathe.

"Where - Where are you going?"

[russetwolf]

Arya was still looking at him like she didn't trust anything she was seeing, like she was going to wake up any moment, or like he'd pull a blade on her any second. It was so jarring to see, and Robb ached for the girl she used to be, who had never looked at him like his even once. Had they all gone through terrible things as a price for still being alive?

Hearing her say she'd been there, at the Twins, was a shock that made Robb cold and numb at the same time. Even being reminded of what had happened there made his mind recoil, a sliver of ice going through his spine, everything in him simply refusing.

"Arya..."

Robb didn't know what to say, what to do. He wished they could just go home, but... there was nowhere for them to go anymore at all, was there?

Grey Wind whined quietly and shifted closer, half wrapping himself around Robb's legs like he knew exactly how he was feeling. Robb sank both hands into his fur and tried to breathe.

"Where - Where are you going?"

[russetwolf]

@worshipsonlydeath continued from here:

She held onto him, doing her best to steady the man and her own emotions. This was real, not a ghost, not her imagination. Even though he was still taller, his frame was far too slim, it was easy to help maneuver him to the wall for additional support. A horrid thought in the back of Arya's mind, if she hadn't thought to come to the cells, would Robb had been left here to rot? She never would have known, never could have known. She caught the glassiness of his gaze and swallowed the swelling urge to cry herself. There was a ways to go until she could let her guard down, most of the Freys were dealt with but she wouldn't feel at ease until they put enough distance between them and this haunted place. A plan cut through the haze. With an objective, her thoughts cleared and resolve hardened; grief and relief would wait, Arya ducked under Robb's arm and pulled it across her shoulders so she could fully support his weight, letting him have a moment to get a better grip on her. "It's a long story. It's... years worth of a tale. Let's just get you out of here first."

There was a part of him - a significant part - that hadn't yet accepted that this might be real. A part that was waiting for him to wake up and not look into his little sister's face, but into that of one of the guards that he had seen day after day after day until they had blurred together and lost all meaning.

So as much as his heart felt all over the place about what was happening, it was still shrouded in a numbness that might be protecting him from breaking down entirely right now.

And he still had no idea at all what was going on, but Arya was right. If there was any chance of them walking out of here - Gods, he needed to.

His little sister didn't feel so small anymore under his arm, nor as weedy as she used to. She felt strong, took his weight without faltering - or maybe that was simply testament to his own weakness and lightness.

"Alright," he said, quietly. If Arya managed to walk in here and was confident they could walk out of here, he would trust that to be the case.

They walked up the first flight of stairs, and by the time they emerged from the depths of the dungeon, Robb was out of breath. Despite his dizziness, he tried to keep an eye on their surroundings, to listen and see what was going on around them. But there was no one, a place that seemed only inhabited by ghosts.

"What happened here?" he whispered, not daring to be louder just in case it could bring Freys down on them like a swarm of bats.

[russetwolf]

🔥 types of people : dungeons and dragons classes

Tagged by: found this in my likes, stolen from @smalljonumber

Tagging: Anyone who sees this!

Repost! No reblog!

Bold What Applies!

𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙰𝙽 »   toothy  grins,  stories  around  the  campfire,  clothes  covered  in  pet  hair, hot  temper,  old  jeans,  heartbeat  in  head,  potatoes  and  steak, beaded  jewelry,  bruises  like  galaxies,  mementos,  backpack  stuffed  full,  craigslist  furniture,  spontaneous  road  trips, air  ripped  from  lungs

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[getthelala-deactivated20190721]

♣ Favorite Game of Thrones Characters - Robb Stark

“You think I’m fighting this war so they’ll sing songs about me? I want to go home.”

[russetwolf]

worshipsonlydeath‌:

In theory, the appearance of the direwolf ought to be enough to convince her that her brother was standing before her. And yet she couldn’t believe it, not… she didn’t want to believe it. Because if Robb was alive… all this time, then why did it hurt so damn much. She let out a shuddering breath and took a step back at the mention of Needle’s origin.

No one else could have known.

Arya refused to lower Needle but stepped back in order to leave a small space between them. She wasn’t sure if she ought to run, scream, or cry. She wanted to somehow do all three at once and wrap her arms around the figure before her.

It was as though years of fatigue, physical, emotional, mental exhaustion caught up to the young girl. She was so tired. She didn’t want to be strong anymore. 

Quietly, she uttered the few words she could muster. “But… you were gone.” 

There must have been enough in his words to stop her from wanting to slice him up with the flick of her wrist. Robb breathed out and lowered his head, but his heart was still beating all the way up in his throat. He still just wanted to hold her, hug her until they both felt real again. But he needed to wait for her to come to him, to be on the same page.

She looked so tired. Like she could shatter at a light tap, a feeling he was painfully, intimately familiar with.

There were so few words that could explain, and so much he had to say. But for now, all he could do was nod. “I was. They threw my body in the river, and Grey Wind - Beric Dondarrion found me.”

Maybe it was as simple as that.

[richard-madden-archived]

“Well, I’d walk up to the guy, avoid eye contact, step to the side, look him in the eye and I’d be gone.”

[russetwolf]

what symbolic fruit are you?

Clementine.

In Chinese culture, clementines, known for their bright orange, waxy exterior, were symbolic of gold, and by extension, wealth, good fortune and abundance. Trees that bear clementines (or mandarins, as they're also known as) are often used to decorate the thresholds of Chinese households as a sign of good luck and prosperity. As lucky as Clementines may be, so are you and those around you. With a sunny disposition, and a knack for seeing the best in everyone, and the good in the world around you, you're someone who believes that the glass is always half full. Things can always be worse, and they will always get better, one way or another! Like the vibrant clementines you're known for bringing light to those who need it, and always bringing laughter to your friend group. However, such a bright exterior can sometimes hide a deep and lingering sadness. Remember: even the light sometimes has to dim, and even the sun has to set. Don't worry; it'll always come back.

tagged by: @ach1llean

tagging: @hisoath @reinerose @daeremiros @nevrdaunted @astormofsilk @neithergodsnormen @packsurvivcs @steel-winter-rose @worshipsonlydeath