Robb Stark x Baratheon!OFC, Jon Snow x Handmaid!OFC
Summary: The royal party goes to Winterfell to arrange a marriage between the princess and the future Warden of the North.
Meag sat by her favorite tree, book in hand, as she and her handmaid, Bev, watched the King’s guard train on the grounds of the Red Keep. Her brother, Joffrey, was with them, though he could barely hold a sword to save his life. The King’s guard didn’t dare spar with the prince, for fear of invoking his wrath.
“I know that look,” Bev says, leaning against the tree. “You’re thinking too hard.”
“Do you ever just want to escape these grounds, even for just a day? I’ve barely been out of the Red Keep all my life, Bev.”
Joffrey starts towards the keep and sends a glare towards his sister’s maid, who he hated with a fiery passion. He stops a few feet from his sister.
“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m to wed Lady Sansa Stark. Sister, you’ll be lucky if you wed Loras Tyrell. Except, I don’t think you’re his type.” He laughs at his own joke.
“Be quiet, Joffrey. You’re interrupting my reading.” She looks back down at her book and he grows angry.
“You can’t talk to your future king like that!”
“And you shouldn’t talk to your elder sister in such a way,” she retorts. “It’s not very regal, brother.”
He stomps off in a huff and Meag sets down her book.
“Say the word, my lady, and I’ll make sure that cunt doesn’t treat you in such a way again.”
“You’d risk treason for me, Bev? He’s to be your king.”
“I’m not loyal to the crown, especially not that fucking prince. I’m loyal to you, my lady.”
Meag smiled at that and the two of them sat by the tree for a moment of peace and quiet. This, however, was short-lived because Meag’s uncle, Jaime, walked up to them.
“Hello, my dearest niece,” he says, bowing in greeting.
“Uncle, it’s good to see you,” Meag replies. “By the looks of it, it seems these guards aren’t learning anything at all, and neither is my brother, it would seem.”
“Yes, I saw him stalking back into the palace,” Jaime says. “I was sent by your father to fetch you. He wants to see you in his study immediately.”
Meag rolls her eyes and stands, the grass staining the bottom of her skirt. She passes her book to Bev and follows Jaime into the Red Keep. He doesn’t say a thing as they walk along, which surprises her, as her uncle is usually very chatty. They finally reach her father’s study and she turns to Jaime, who gives her a solemn look before nodding to her to go in.
Meag knocks on the door before entering the study, where her father was pouring a cup of wine and his hand, Jon Arryn, stood to the side with a kind smile. She nods to Lord Arryn before taking the open seat across from her father.
He sets his cup down before eyeing the grass stains all over her dress.
“Have you been rolling in the yard again?” he asks with a chuckle.
“Just reading in the grass, father.”
“You’ve always got your head in the clouds. Seven Hells! You’re a Baratheon, and my daughter. My firstborn.”
“Mother would go berserk if I was fighting with the boys, father. Besides, southern ladies do not fight. They frolic and sew and run their households.”
“Have you ever seen your mother sew?” her father asks. He laughs again before taking another sip of his wine.
“Your grace, I believe there are certain matters we need to discuss,” Lord Arryn says.
“Of course, of course,” Her father replies. “Lord Arryn and I have discussed it, and we think it’s about time you be wed.”
“We’ve gotten quite a few offers from all the great houses,” Jon Arryn says. “But your father has rejected most of them.”
“My friend Ned Stark, you remember him, right?”
Lord Stark had only visited King’s Landing a handful of times, and never with his family, except possibly his wife, Lady Catelyn. He was very stoic, though gentle and kind. Her father and Lord Arryn always talked fondly of him.
“His eldest boy, Robb, is to be the Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell. He’ll make a fine husband for her, won’t he, Jon?”
“Absolutely. With Ned as a father, the boy must be very honorable indeed.”
“When will this wedding occur?” Meag asks.
“We’re going to visit Winterfell in a few weeks to talk about the details with Ned and Cat.”
“She does. She’s not too happy about it, but she understands.”
Despite what her father said, her mother did not understand.
Meag stood by her mother’s side, her hand maid stood a few steps behind the family. Tommen and Myrcella stood close to their elder sister, the young prince holding onto her arm shyly as they approached the Starks.
“Ned,” Robert replies with a chuckle. “You got fat.” They both laugh and Meag’s gaze wanders to the two girls. The elder sister looked excited to be there. She wore a pale blue dress and had her red hair done up in braids. The youngest seemed uncomfortable in her gray dress. She couldn’t be more than ten and one. Their brother, Robb Stark, walked up and tousled his youngest sister’s hair playfully. He had a stocky build, his brown hair fell in little wisps that met his ears. His eyes were the same piercing blue as his sister’s, as they both favorited the Tully side of their family. Arya, however, seemed to favor her father. The other boy joined them. His long hair was dark and curly. He was shorter than Robb and Lord Eddard, and he had a sword on his hip. He resembled Lord Eddard more than Robb did. He must be Jon Snow, the bastard.
Meag had nothing against bastards. Seven hells, her father had at least four bastards for every legitimate child he had.
Two little brown haired boys stood close to Jon Snow. They were the youngest Stark children, Brandon and Rickon.
Meag’s father reaches over and puts an arm around her, bringing her closer.
“This here is my pride and joy, Ned. My eldest.”
“Princess.” Lord Stark bows his head and Meag nods in greeting.
“Lord Stark. My father always speaks so highly of you.”
“And those are my others,” the king says, gesturing towards Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella. “My heir, Joffrey, my daughter Myrcella, and my youngest, Tommen. Now, introduce me to your brood, Ned.”
The red headed girl stood closest to her father and grabbed his arm.
“This is my oldest daughter, Sansa. Next to her is my oldest,Robb. Then there’s Arya, Bran and Rickon.”
The king stared down at the little brown haired girl for a second. It wasn’t long, but it was enough for Meag to notice. She turned and locked eyes with her mother, who clenched her fist in frustration.
“Yes, well come on, we best get to the crypt to pay our respects,” the king says, releasing Meag and walking away with Ned. The Stark and Baratheon children all looked at each other for a moment before Cersei headed inside with her guards, Myrcella, and Tommen.
Joffrey walked across to Sansa with a smirk on his face. The eldest Stark brothers sent twin glares in his direction as he began to gloat to Sansa.
Surprisingly enough, Joffrey offers his arm to Sansa and she takes it hesitantly as they walk off towards the godswood.
Meag practically jumped back three feet when she realized Bev had materialized next to her.
“We should probably get you ready for the feast, my lady.”
“Oh, yes.” Meag turns back to the young wolves who were still standing there.
“I’ll see you at the feast, Robb. It was lovely to meet you.”
“Bev, must we attend the feast?” Meag asks.
“The Stark heir seems quite taken with you,” Bev says with a smirk.
“Robb? What do you mean?”
“Did you not see the way he looked at you when you two were introduced?”
“I don’t know a thing about him, Bev. I don’t want to be married off like some broodmare. I want to explore the world!”
Bev’s lip curls into a cheshire grin. “My lady, get your cloak and meet me at the training grounds. We are going out.”
When Meag walked up to the training grounds, what she didn’t expect to see was her handmaid standing with a horse from the stables.
The horse she’d chosen was Saffron, the horse her father had given her for her fourteenth name day. Saffron had a reddish brown coat and mane. She was saddled and ready to leave the castle. Bev was feeding her a carrot as Meag walked up.
“My lady. I couldn’t take more than one horse without it seeming suspicious. I will walk, you should ride.”
“Nonsense, we can both fit on the saddle,” the princess replies. Meag took her friend’s hand as she mounted the horse, Bev following suit.
Bev sat in front, handling the reins. Saffron took off and Meag held onto her friend.
“Where are we going, Bev?”
“For a ride outside of Winterfell, my lady! Hang on!”
Robb stood on the edge of the crowd as everyone danced and ate. This feast was to commemorate his father taking the position as hand of the king, and his and Sansa’s engagements. Sansa was dancing with the weasley little prince and Arya was talking Ser Barristen’s ear off about the knights of old. Jon was outside with the direwolves talking to Lord Tyrion. Theon walked up to him.
“Shouldn’t you be off winning the heart of the fair princess?” Theon asks teasingly.
Robb sends him a glare. “She seems like a nice lass, but I don’t want to get married to someone I don’t know, Theon.”
“You’re the heir to Winterfell and the future Warden of the North,” Theon reminds him. “You really didn’t expect to be married off by your parents?”
“I just thought I might have more of a choice in who my bride might be. I don’t want a ditzy little princess as my lady of Winterfell.”
Theon shrugs. “Talk to her,” he suggests. “You might find you like her.”
Robb chuckles. “Who are you and what have you done with my perverse best friend?”
“And if she still doesn’t like you,” Theon says cheekily, putting an arm around his friend casually, “Maybe you could send her my way.”
Robb shoved his arm off. “Too far, Theon.” He stalks off out of the great hall in frustration, walking right past Jon and Lord Tyrion, the former shouting after him. Grey Wind was on his heels as he started towards the gods wood, where he might have a moment alone to think.
Just as he reached the weirwood tree, he heard voices further into the wood. Grey Wind’s ears perked up and Robb looked down at the wolf.
The direwolf runs into the woods and Robb curses under his breath before following Grey Wind into the forest.
When the direwolf finally stopped, they were in a clearing, and before them stood the princess, her hand maid, and horse. The princess was frolicking in the snow while the handmaid fed a carrot to the horse.
Robb looked down at Grey Wind, who was sniffing the air. The wolf started slowly towards the princess.
“Grey Wind!” Robb rushed through the trees after his wolf, which had walked up to the princess. She stopped and looked down at the direwolf before kneeling down to pet him. Grey Wind sat at her feet as she scratched behind his ears and Robb breathed a sigh of relief.
“You’re not scared of him?” he asks, stopping in front of her and Grey Wind.
“I love animals,” Meag replies. “They’re much better than most humans. Besides, he’s just a pup.”
“We found a litter of them a few days ago in the woods,” he says. “The mother had been killed by a stag. Father let us take the pups to the castle.”
“Your father seems like a great man,” Meag says. “Your family all seem very kind. That brings me much comfort.”
“Why aren’t you at the feast?” Robb asks. “Your parents sent the Hound to look for you.”
“I hate such gatherings,” Meag answers. “I am not the perfect princess my mother wishes I would be. I would rather spend all day in the library or the gardens than learning how to sew or dance or any of the more ladylike professions.”
“We have a massive library here,” Robb replies. “So many stories that you could get lost among the shelves.”
“I wanted to be a maester when I was younger, to study at the citadel,” Meag says. “But of course all maesters are men, and my mother wouldn’t let me study the art of the sciences.”
“I can ask Maester Luwin to teach you,” Robb suggests. “I’m sure he would love to have an enthusiastic student.”
“Oh thank you, Robb, truly.”
Meag held onto Robb’s arm as they took a walk through the grounds of Winterfell, Meag’s handmaid trailing them a few feet behind. Meag leans close to her betrothed’s ear.
“Your half-brother can’t seem to take his eyes off my handmaid.”
Robb turns to look at Jon, who was staring at the brunette. She stared right back at him, muttering something. Meag turns to her friend.
“He seems quite taken with you.”
“Don’t waste your time,” Robb chimes in. “He leaves tomorrow for the Watch.”
“That’s a pity,” Meag replies. “They could have been a fine match.”
Bev approached Jon Snow while his back was turned and he was slicing at the practice dummy with his sword.
“I think you got him,” she says. He turns and smiled sheepishly at her.
“You’re the princess’s maid.”
“I prefer friend. But yes.”
“Aye. How are you liking Winterfell, friend of the princess?” he asks, sheathing his sword again in its scabbard.
“The chill is refreshing, if I’m being honest. It is fucking hot down south.”
He chuckles. “Does your princess know you talk like that?”
“You should hear that mouth of hers,” Bev says, shaking her head. “She doesn’t show it, but when she’s angry, you should see it.”
“And you’re the more outspoken one, I take it?” They both laugh, and then, an awkward silence settles over them. Bev clears her throat.
“I’m a bastard too, you know. My mother was a kitchen maid, and she said my father was a knight in the Red Keep. I never knew him. A sickness took her last year, so I never got to find out who he was.”
“I never knew my mother either,” Jon replies. “Father promised he’d tell me about her when he comes back to visit. All I know is that she died giving birth to me.”
“We’re two of a kind, aren’t we, Jon Snow?”
“Achem.” Jon looks up behind her head, his eyes widening in surprise. Bev turns to face the knight that had approached. It was Ser Clegane, the Hound.
“Run along to your princess, little girl.” Bev nods, hurrying to find Meag and Robb, not catching the glare that the knight sends Jon Snow.
“And this is the old tower,” Robb says, gesturing to his left. “It’s run down, so we don’t use it anymore.”
“It appears your brother does,” Meag says with a chuckle, pointing towards Bran, who was climbing the tower.
“Bran!” Robb tells up to his brother. “Didn’t mother tell you not to climb?”
“I’m fine!” the boy calls back. “Go show the princess the library!”
“Oh, the library!” Meag exclaims.
“Then, let’s go, shall we?” Robb offers his arm to the princess, and just as they turn away from the tower, they hear a scream, and then a thud. Robb is the first to act.
“Bran!” he runs to his brother, who had just hit the ground hard. The princess starts towards them, until Bev rushes over.
“My lady! What happened?”
“Lord Brandon fell from the tower,” Meag says hurriedly. She looks up at the tower, and she can just make out a figure in the window, facing inside the tower. She swore it looked just like her uncle…
