#robbstarkxreader

[yougottalovegameofthrones]

Almost Home Pt. 7 (Robb Stark x Reader)

A/N: Wowza, this one ended up being longer than I thought! But it’s pretty angsty, so get ready. XD  Thanks for reading!

-M <3

----

I never knew how much love could hurt, until it finally did.  Every morning and every night that past following that dreadful encounter were bitter and painful. I could only wish that I had the sanctuary that I found in sleep.

At first, it seemed that Robb Stark felt the same pain as I did.  We saw each other nearly every day, and whenever our eyes met, the sense of loss lingered between us. His lips parted to speak, but I always found an excuse to leave before the words could be heard. My heart always told me to go back… go back to him and apologize for rejecting him so harshly a few weeks previous. 
But I didn’t.

In nearly every moment except for when I was in my chambers, I knew that Catelyn Stark was watching, whether if it was through her own eyes or through one of the many people working around Robb and I.

If we were to be caught together again… my life would be over. And although my life was not much at this moment in time, I couldn’t bear the thought of losing it to… that ogre, Ser Larris Smallwood.  Who knew what he would do to me before he ended it all?

With the potential dangers that came with even talking to Robb, I couldn’t risk it. And as much as my heart hurt for watching his face fall every time I said I had to leave,  it was for the best. He would find happiness again… in someone who truly deserved it.

“Y/N, once you finish starting the bath, would you please come join me out here?” Catelyn Stark called from her perch on the balcony, her voice almost humorous as the words left her lips.

“Yes, my Lady.”  I finished what she required before walking to stand by her side. “What is it?”

“I want you to look down there, and tell me what you see.”

My eyes followed her extended hand, and my heart began to ache at the sight of Robb down bellow, laughing with a group of men. “My Lady, I thought you didn’t want-“

“I asked you to look.” Her tone was more clipped. “Look again.” 
When my eyes fell back to the group of men bellow, I noticed that a maiden was now amongst them. Her hair was long and tied back into a braid, her dress covering her body modestly, and the charming smile on her face drawing all of the men in… and from the looks of it, she seemed to be catching Robb’s attention as well.

If my heart had been hurting before, it was nothing compared to how it was feeling now. Shattered, crushed, split in two. A lump grew in my throat as I watched the woman approach Robb and begin to speak with him, her hand moving to rest on his arm before slowly moving up to his chest.

“Her name is Lady Lylian Wythers.” Catelyn Stark’s voice commented quietly, but contently. “I have a feeling that she will make my son very happy.”

My body frozen in place, unable to move as I watched Lady Lylian draw closer to Robb, eventually leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips.  My head began to spin, my eyes growing blurry with tears that I so desperately wanted to shed, and my hands began to shake.

After a few moments, Robb pulled away from the kiss and looked up towards where Catelyn and I stood. His face went slightly pale and he began to move towards where we were, but his mother grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back into the confines of her room.

“He may of thought that he found his happiness in you…” She whispered in my ear, her grip on my arm tightening. “But it turns out that any young woman can make a King happy.” She let me go. “Off to bed.”

I slipped out of her room and walked down the hall, praying to the Gods that I would not encounter Robb Stark in the way. Another hand grasped onto my arm and pulled me to the side, causing me to gasp. I came face to face with none other than the King of the North.

“What is it with you Starks about pulling people around by their limbs?” I snapped, yanking myself free from his grip.

“Y/N….” His voice was soft, as if he was afraid to break me with his words.

“What?!” At that point, the idea that I was talking to the King of the North did not matter. I was angry. No, I was beyond angry. I was devastated, and it would take more than a few kisses and gentle words to heal this wound.

“I didn’t know you were there.” Robb’s eyes were lit with remorse, and I had to restrain myself from feeling sympathy for him at this moment.

“So you would’ve kissed her if I wasn’t there, then?”

“I didn’t want-“

“Do not give me that load of bullshit, Robb Stark.” Judging by the surprised expression on his face, I don’t think he knew I had the confidence to say that sentence to his face. “You seemed perfectly content with having a pretty young Lady kissing you.”

“I don’t want her!” His voice was exasperated, and I rolled my eyes.

“Who do you want then, Robb? Or what, to be more exact? If it’s pleasure you want, I’m sure there are plenty of young women who would love to visit you in your chambers.”

For a split second, anger crossed his face.. But after a moment of hesitation, he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards his chambers, despite my protest. Once the door closed behind us,Robb turned around and pulled me into his embrace, pressing his lips against mine eagerly.

Without even thinking, I found myself kissing him back and the sound of satisfaction that Robb made had me wanting this moment to last forever. But after a few moments, he pulled away, his eyes gazing down at me wearily. “Does that give you your answer?”

“I don’t deserve you.” I shake my head sadly, and his eyes grow hard.

“Has my mother been telling you that again? Is that what she said to you the night that you ran from me?”

“And other things.” My eyes fall to the floor, but his fingers tipped my chin up, forcing me to look up at him.

“What other things?” Robb’s voice was gentle, and I felt the wall I built up around myself slowly begin to crumble.

“She wrote a letter to my family, telling them that I abandoned them because I didn’t want to marry, and of my location. Your mother said if I continued to be with you, that the letter would be sent out immediately, and my fate would rest in the hands of…” I shivered slightly. “My husband.”

It was silent for a few moments, and I looked back up at Robb. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were ablaze with anger. My hands moved to cup his face and his eyes met mine again. “You cannot tell confront her about this.”

“Why not?” His tone was filled with disbelief.

“She will still send out the letter. I’m sure she made plenty of other copies in the incident that you found out.”

“Even if she is my own mother…” His fingers brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “I cannot stand for her to use her power to mistreat people that way. If she sends the letter, I will not let that man take you away. I’m the King of the North.”

“I don’t think this man will play fairly.” I whispered quietly. “He might come when we aren’t ready. Maybe even in the middle of night.”

“That’s why I need to confront my mother, and that is why you will be staying in here with me from now on.”

“But-“

“No buts.” Robb shook his head gently. “Your safety is not something to argue about. And at this rate, my mother will eventually find out again about us. I’d rather know you are safe than risk it by sending you back to your chambers.”

I let out a small sigh, and nodded. “Okay.”

“I’m glad you didn’t try to argue with me this time. “ A small smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “It would’ve been a much lengthier conversation if you had.”

“I’d rather not argue with you anymore. It’s a rather nasty affair.”

“I agree.” Robb leaned down and kissed me gently before adding, “I’ll talk to my mother in the morning. For now, I think we should get some rest. “

—-

The old man  had watched from afar as Robb stopped the handmaiden down the hall, his voice hushed but desperate. Eventually, the King of the North had taken her back to his chambers, and that led the old man towards Lady Stark’s chambers.

“My Lady… I have news.”

“I hope it’s good. I was just getting into bed.” Catelyn Starks voice was irritated as she approached the door to find the man standing there. “What is it?”

“Your son took your handmaiden back to his chambers. They were fairly quiet in their conversations, but I don’t think it’s good, My Lady.”

Catelyn Stark retreated silently back into her room, grabbing the addressed letter off of her table before turning back to the old man at the door. “Give this to the fastest rider, and get him on his horse, now. I want that letter delivered before sunrise.”

“Yes, my Lady.” The man nodded before disappearing into the darkness of the hallway. Catelyn shut the doors, shaking her head with a smile as she walked back towards the bed. She had given that young girl a chance to make a life her. But she had made one too many mistakes, and for that… she would have to pay the price.

[thenoblehouseofdayne]

Daughter Dearest 5 {Robb Stark x Bolton!Reader}

Series Masterlist Here!

{Warnings: mentions of mental illness, mentions of manipulative behavior, argument, some language.}

{Sorry for the long wait! I’ve been darting around on vacation for a few weeks, and haven’t had time to settle and write. To make up for it, here’s a lengthy Robb sequel! Kisses, TNHOD.}

Tensions were high inside the Stark encampment. It seemed that the men had forgotten that there was a war to be fought outside the village of tents, and were content to argue and dispute amongst themselves. Robb was the King of the North, but he was also your husband, and he was visibly worried for your safety at all hours. Ramsay, your half brother, was having a grand time being a pain in the ass, making comments about Robb’s feminine approach to ruling and his gentle touch. Roose was staying out of the argument all together, and had more than once suggested you do the same. 

You didn’t care, Ramsay could choke and you’d dance on his grave. He was a dirty rotten bastard, and he caused nothing but trouble. It was only a matter of time before he said the wrong thing, and your ruse would be through. 

That was another matter entirely. Was it a ruse? It had to be-- you were insistent on the fact. You didn’t love Robb, he was a means to an end, a position for your father, and a safe bed for the rest of your life. He could’ve been old or cruel or ugly, but the Gods had seen fit to give you the perfect husband. He wasn’t perfect for you, but he was perfect. 

Robb was pouring over maps, trying to find the perfect ground on which to engage the Lannister army. And more so, where he could hide you during the bloodshed. He was the King in the North, and he didn’t have to bend to the Boltons and their archaic customs. The bastard unsettled him, but he said nothing of it, other than a few snide comments to you in the privacy of your bedroom. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you are more interested in those maps than the men who made them,” you quipped from the bed, resting your chin on your elbows, observing his admirable ass with a half-smile. 

“I’m sure,” he replied dismissively, though a smile came to his face at the sound of your voice. He was deep in thought, scratching the comings-in of a beard that he hadn’t had the time or luxury to remove. “It’s late. You’re usually asleep by now,” there was an edge of concern in his voice, but he didn’t chide you. 

“You’re usually asleep by now,” you returned, pulling the heavy furs closer around your shoulders to shield you from the cold. “And I can’t sleep when I can feel the tension radiating off of you like heat waves,” you complained, lifting the edge of the blanket and offering an enticing smile, hoping to coax him to your side. “You need to rest-- or you’ll fall asleep with your sword in hand.” 

It was an amusing image, and it conjured a matching smile at his lips. Sighing, he extinguished the pair of candles on his desk, and began to shrug off the heavy layers of clothing that adorned him during the day. There was no grace or seduction to the movements, but they were done hastily, to close the distance between himself and you. 

Finally, he slipped beneath the offered sheet, and wrangled you closer to him, effortlessly sliding his arms around your waist. He stilled soon after that, his nose buried in your hair, breathing evening out as he allowed the tension to slide out of his shoulders. “Can I ask you something?” He murmured, almost lost in the sound of the wind howling outside. 

You nodded, fingers carving soft grooves in the plains of his chest. 

“That first night, after we...” he paused to allow you to fill in the blank, “you swore that you would never love me. You wouldn’t touch me. Called yourself my prisoner. What changed? You went from feral to docile practically overnight, and I just--” he sighed, “I don’t understand.” 

You felt like he’d just dropped a massive weight on your chest, and squeezed all the breath out of your lungs. You’d thought you’d been so careful... “I--” your mind reeled for a way to rectify the situation. “I don’t know.” You answered honestly, fidgeting in his arms so you could turn to face him, and see those hauntingly beautiful eyes. “My father used to love my mother, more than anything in the world. He was stiff, but he was happy. When she got sick, and when she started to lose her mind...” you hesitated. “I watched him fall out of love with her. Secluded her away to a tower, a few servants to care for her, and told me never to visit. Said it would only hurt more when we left.” You couldn’t look away from his eyes, from the pity in them, and the adoration that still lingered. “I didn’t want to marry you. I never wanted to marry. I didn’t want to be her, loving a man who would end up confining me to a little room to rot.” 

“You don’t have to--” his voice was softer now as he tried to pull you back to his chest, “I am never going to be your father, Y/N,” he insisted, metal in his voice. 

“You’re so lovely,” you continued, ignoring the sympathy in his tone. “And soft and sweet, and you want so badly to believe in love... and I took advantage of that.” It felt like a cool rush of relief to admit to the guilt that had been weighing on your conscious. “My father was worried that you would lose fondness for me, so I embellished a little-- just to give me time to truly grow fond of you.” 

He was very still.

“Robb?” You asked, wiggling in his arms to catch a look at his face. “No, that’s not what I meant!” You insisted, once you saw the hurt and color draining from his face. “I do love you, there was just a moment when--”

“That first time,” he asked quietly, “when you told me you loved me, that was him?” He didn’t release you, his eyes searching your face for truth. “Your father?” 

You were speechless, heart aching as you realized what jeopardy speaking the truth had landed you in. “He didn’t--”

Robb unwound from you at once, scrambling away from you like you’d burned him. “And when we made love, was he pulling the strings? The puppeteer, feeding you venom to spit back in my face?” He was indignant, snarling, hurting. “I loved you!” He spat, not even bothering to don clothes as he retreated to the far side of the tent. “You knew how much I loved you-- and you lied to me!”

“I do love you, Robb, please!” You pleaded, curling up on the edge of the bed, and watching his expression twist in disgust. 

“How do I know this isn’t another trick?” He demanded, cheeks flushing red with anger. “That these aren’t your father’s words leaving your lips?”

You opened your lips to respond, but saw the far tent-flap peek open, and a grinning Ramsay peer inside, seemingly close enough to have overheard the obvious spat. 

“My King,” his voice was oozing with smug pride at having caught his rival in a compromising position, “is everything alright?”

Robb, a fire burning in his chest and his heart-shattered into more pieces than he could count, looked to you. His love, the sweet woman that he had grown to adore-- tears shining in her eyes as she begged for him to forgive her... and he couldn’t hate her. He wanted to, Gods did he want to hate her, cast her out and remove the thought of her from his mind. But he couldn’t. Your brother, however... “everything’s fine,” he insisted, his voice low and testing. “We were having a disagreement.” 

“I’m sure half the encampment knows at this point,” he entered the tent without invitation, his eyes sweeping over to you and taking a look of lechery at your disheveled state. “Is there anything I could do to ease this?”

Robb’s jaw twitched, watching your half-brother ogle over you with shameless lust. He hated Ramsay. Without a word, he stepped forward, a fist curling at his side, and a cruel look in his eyes. “Yeah, actually,” his movements were sharp and predatory, “eat shit.” And Robb’s fist collided with his jaw in a brutal cracking motion. 

[thenoblehouseofdayne]

Daughter Dearest 4 {Robb Stark x Bolton!Reader}

Warnings: insensitive/incorrect discussion of mental illness

Series Masterlist Here!

The ride back to the encampment was pure agony. Between Ramsay’s baiting attempts at conversation and Roose’s cold dismissal, the snow was the most interesting thing for miles.

“I visited your mother,” Ramsay added casually, at the end of a story about a recent hunting trip. “She tried to claw my eyes out.” He was almost amused by the situation.

Both you and Roose cast him a glance- halfway daring him to continue with that train of thought.

“I meant no harm by it,” he justified, holding up his hands in mock-defense, “I just wanted to see if the old-bat remembered what I looked like.” He smiled. “She does- she says she wishes you visited more.”

You snarled, pulling your horse to a stop, aggression bubbling to cover rising guilt. “You say one more word about my mother-“

Roose interrupted as quickly as the fight began. “Stop arguing. We’re close to the encampment- there are prying ears here.” So easily could he dismiss the subject of your mother, without a care in the world.

You continued to sulk. No doubt he was here to cause trouble, and you planned to keep him at arm’s length for his entire visit here- and away from Robb, for that matter.

But it seemed that fate had been against you all day- as Robb waited for your arrival with a neutral expression, though his eyes brightened as you came into view.

Ramsay was quick to slide off his horse and approach his brother-in-law. He gave a crooked smile, extending a hand, “I thought you’d be taller.” He glanced over his shoulder at you. “I expected the King of the North to loom a little larger- has Y/N tamed you already?”

Robb’s own smile grew tighter and more severe. “I’m glad your travels were safe- one of the soldiers,” he lifted a finger to summon one effortlessly, “Will escort you to your tent. Y/N? A word?” His dismissal was cold and swift- and you found yourself hiding a smile as your brother’s face fell.

Roose glanced at you with warning, but said nothing as he attended to his second favorite child.

Robb pulled you across the camp and into a tent- laying a firm and fast kiss on your lips. “I realized I’d never said goodbye before you left- I could hardly focus while you were gone.” He teased, holding your cheek gently, thumb tracing the extent of your cheekbone. “I heard rumors about Ramsay, but-“ he exhaled lowly, lifting his brows ever so slightly. “He exceeds expectations.”

You nearly laughed again- but bit it back. It was good to see him, and good to grow friendlier with him, but you wouldn’t fool yourself into verbalizing your distaste of your half-brother. Comments turned to dissent, dissent to revolt, and the Bolton line was unsteady enough as it was. 

The two of you spent a few moments sharing idle conversation, and you found yourself beginning to enjoy the warmth in his eyes when he looked at you. It seemed that pretending to love him was easier as you grew to genuinely like him. He was a good man, but not suited for a Bolton.

“I hate to send you away again,” Robb began, his expression suddenly more serious. “But the Lannisters are making a move, and a battle will come soon- I need to send you to Winterfell with my Mother.” It was clear he’d been considering this for a while. A Queen was good for morale, but, in times of war, it would do no good to have her here.

“That would be a stupid thing to do,” Ramsay chimed in suddenly, his hand parting the tent-flap and peering inside. “I meant to wait until after you finished your gossip, but I couldn’t tolerate the insinuation that Y/N is some sort of weak-stomached maiden. Your Grace,” the title was dripping with sarcasm, “she’s a Bolton. A little blood won’t frighten her.”

Robb managed another forced smile. “Maybe we should discuss this with your father before I decide on your sister’s life,” he quipped back, his expression vexed at best.

Roose was quickly found and delivered, and listened for a moment, his expression unimpressed, glancing to his daughter before speaking. “I agree with Ramsay- hiding her won’t help, it’s better that she’s within reach, Winterfell’s already a target.”

Robb opened his mouth to protest, before glancing to you, and seeing your own indifference mirroring your father’s. He sighed, looking deflated.

It seemed you’d be staying after all.

[thenoblehouseofdayne]

Daughter Dearest Series Masterlist {Robb Stark x Bolton!Reader}

Neither of you wanted this marriage- but in times of war, sometimes it was easier to pretend to love someone than it was to fight back.

Not Completed

Part One Here!

Part Two Here!

Part Three Here!

Part Four Here!

Part Five Here!

[thenoblehouseofdayne]

Daughter Dearest 3

warnings: mentions of sex, emotional manipulation, mentions of illness, 

Part One Here!

Part Two Here!

{This is one of my favorite series to write at the moment, and since I’m flowing with inspiration at the moment, here’s part three.}

You could feel the tangle of his limbs with yours, and a slight nausea tickling the back of your throat as you rested in the shadow of your ‘reunion’. 

Robb had proven a more than able lover, no different than the last time you’d laid together. His arms were snug around your waist as he kissed up your shoulder. 

You felt unnerved at how easily he’d grown to trust you, forgetting weeks of torment and misery the moment you’d implied that you had any meaning behind your actions. It was easy being married to him, as easy as breathing, because he so badly wanted you to harmonize with him, he bent over backwards to achieve his intended bliss. In the afterglow, you had difficulty finding your words, but he was quicker to recover. 

“I mean no offense by this, truly, but I have difficulty believing you and your father are cut of the same cloth. Even in your tougher moments, you’re so full of passion and emotion and he’s... devoid of it, always.”

“Your romantic banter could use improvement.” You murmured with a soft smile, shifting on the mattress to better face him, allowing yourself to relax in his grasp. “But I understand what you mean. He’s not an incredibly emphatic man.”

Robb felt a growing warmth in his chest as he examined the intricacies of her face, but allowed it to linger as she spoke, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. “And what of your mother?”

The comfort you’d barely indulged in was gone in an instant, and your expression sobered. “She’s been ill since I was a child.” You averted your eyes as you revealed this small truth to your suddenly regretful husband. “But even if her condition improves, she’s not the same as she was. So my father distances himself from her entirely.” You shifted again in discomfort. “It’s somewhat of a sore subject.” 

Robb was immediately apologetic. “I had no idea, Y/N, I’m sorry that I-”

You quieted him soon after he began speaking. “It’s been some time, it doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. I just get a bit downtrodden when talking about her. Childhood woes, I suppose.”

His arms grew slightly more lax around you and he seemed less social as silence settled between the two of you. 

“My liege!” Impending footsteps approached the tent, and both scrambled to make themselves decent as a soldier burst into the tent. He flushed and recoiled as he saw his King and Queen wrapped in an intimate embrace. “I didn’t realize you were indecent-”

“Excuse yourself while you still have dignity. He’ll speak to you when he’s decent.” You snapped, watching him duck back out of the tent. 

Robb chastised you with a sideways glance, but stood to ready himself, fastening his trousers and touching your chin with an unspoken softness as he disappeared out the front of the tent to greet his awaiting masses. 

You were slower to redress, but emerged shortly after Robb, finding your father waiting for you, impatience in his stance. “Glad to see your tardiness hasn’t expired with age.”

You didn’t bite, rolling your eyes and beginning to walk beside him, adjusting your heavy cloak to shield you from the wind. “I didn’t realize you’d be waiting for me. I thought you’d be in the crowd of hopefuls following him like trained pets.” It was an honest observation, watching the trail of young and old lords tracking each of his movements and whispering in his ear.

“I wouldn’t insult my pride so gravely.” He took your arm as you moved towards the perimeter of the camp, and towards a pair of horses, neatly groomed and prepared for a ride. 

“Where are we going?” You questioned, your eyes catching Robb as he spoke to a few of his audience, no doubt providing some obvious answer that they’d overlooked, based on his pleasant smile and their gracious expressions. 

“To retrieve your brother and escort him into the encampment.”

Your head swiveled in shock, and you felt your breathing stall. “Ramsay is coming here? I thought he was in Dreadfort, watching over the castle?”

Roose helped you atop one of the horses with a slight grimace. “Wrote that he’d grown tired of the domestic life, and that he craves the thrill of battle. He’ll be gone in a few months, by my guess.”

You paled, tightening your grip on the reins. “Does Robb know?”

Roose mounted his horse beside you, slowly easing his to a trot. “Of course he knows. I’ve warned him in advance, did he say anything of it to you?”

Your expression twisted in realization. That’s where all the sudden questions about your family life had been leading. “He didn’t mention it, oddly.” You kept pace with your father, watching the trees pass as you left the boundaries of the encampment. “Couldn’t we have sent soldiers to retrieve him? Did he request our audience personally?” 

Roose sighed. “Demanded it, in fact. He’s going to be a prick for his entire visit, don’t expect him to act with decency now that you’ve acquired a ring.”

It was true to form that you and Ramsay hadn’t seen eye to eye in the past, but more often than not, you’d been able to avoid him with frequent trips to visit your mother or other nobles throughout your adolescence, but in the past few months, you’d enjoyed being free of his nuisance. 

You two rode up over the hill, seeing the seemingly endless fields of perfect white snow before you, and at the far end of the meadow, you could see an approaching mounted figure, cloaked in black, a Bolton banner slung over an additional horse bearing his luggage. 

Your half-brother, Ramsay, arrived with a wicked smile and a darker heart, waiting the was within a stone’s throw to speak. “My, how you’ve grown, dear sister.” 

Your expression was stone, but your eyes betrayed the smallest amount of fear as you began the ride back. He’d always been a wild card, but now, with granted power and status, and only growing cruelty, he made your own mean streak look docile. 

“-and your Stark keeper, Y/N, does he serve as a suitable admission to your collection of lovers?”  

[thenoblehouseofdayne]

Daughter Dearest 2 {Robb Stark x Bolton!Reader}

warnings: brief use of strong language

{As I was sifting through the mountain of requests that remain, I realized I’d hit a string of Robbs, so apologies if my blog seems a little Robb-centric as I finish up some older requests. The sequel to this has been long requested, so here it is!}

Part One Here!

The indifference between the King and Queen of the North was palatable, and uncomfortable for all other parties involved in their extended lover’s spat. He treated you as a token of your father’s loyalty, one that even his tender heart exploited. You publicly questioned his decisions and ability as a leader, which was equally as damaging to his reputation. 

The most recent example of this proverbial winter was a meeting of banner-men, during which, you were asked to leave, a first since your union months ago. 

You lifted a brow and glanced briefly towards the men watching your reaction, including your father, and back to Robb. “What are you doing?”

He barely looked up from his maps, his posture stiff and unflinching. “I asked you to leave, Y/N. You have no business in our military proceedings.”

You saw through his tough exterior in a moment. “You want me to wait with the other women outside the tent, do you? Want to flex your authority and treat me as a whore that you can order to your bidding?” You could feel your father wincing at your lack of etiquette as your voice rose in volume and the other conversations in the room halted suddenly. 

Robb took a breath, and steeled his resolve, attempting to weather through another of what he perceived to be tantrums. 

“Enjoy their respect, my King.” You turned on your heel and left the tent in an furious flourish, ignoring the sinking feeling of your boots in the half-frozen mud, finding the large tent that you shared with Robb and drawing a bath, asking one of the handmaidens to draw closed the flaps of the tent, and asking one of your father’s men to stand guard at the door, before submerging yourself into the near painfully hot water, watching ripples of steam rise into the chilly winter air.

Your muscles relaxed, and you eventually drew yourself back from a fever-pitch, pulling your knees to your chest and thinking on the time you’d spent here. You were miserable. Robb was miserable. Would it not be better for the North if you returned home, or even ran away? Robb could marry one of those pretty northern girls you’d seen him eyeing, and you could...

Your lip quivered, and you drew a shaking breath, before allowing the silent tears to spill down your cheeks, dripping down into the bath water as you allowed your pent up emotion to overcome you in one burst of anguish, homesickness, and jealousy. You wanted to go home.

You heard your father’s voice, snapping at the soldier to abandon his post, before he entered the tent, clearly upset. He took a look at you and sighed, pulling the flaps closed behind him again, and lowering his voice. “Gods sake, girl, control your tears, this isn’t the time to show weakness.”

It was the closest thing to affection he’d shown you in recent weeks, and slowly, you sniffled and wiped away your tears. “What did he say?”

“Nothing about you or your spectacle in there, did I raise a fool?”

“You didn’t raise me.” You snapped back, rebuilding the tough exterior you’d cultivated as Roose Bolton’s daughter.

He lifted a hand to silence you and continued. “It is in our interest to remain in the Starks favor, which will wither with each of your jabs. Can you not learn to love him?”

Your silence was indignant.

He reached down to grip your chin and hold it firmly, meeting your eyes with his own calculating and cold ones, allowing you to wriggle in discomfort for a second before he spoke. “Learn to, or learn to pretend.”

He was gone just as quickly, leaving you in a once comfortable bath that had long since run cold. You decided. If you could not conjure love on your own, you’d be better off pretending, if only to preserve your standing in his life. 

Robb did not return for two hours more, still wading through his duties and nursing his pride, dragging his feet on the way back. But, he entered your chambers none the less, finding you brushing through your long dark hair, dressed in nightclothes. “It’s the middle of the day.”

“I was feeling ill. As you have little need of me, I figured I’d be better off spending the day in bed and waiting for you to return.”

He sighed, leaning in the doorway to give you a long hard stare. “How long will you torment me? Can we not be civil?”

You glanced over your shoulder. “Why didn’t you want me in the Small Council meeting this morning? Have I not proven useful enough to sit by your side?” You allowed vulnerability to slip into your tone, as facetious as it was.

His expression broke as he thought that he’d finally made a grand discovery in your behavior. “I was tired of the fighting, was all. I needed a morning where you commended my decisions, not questioned them. I didn’t realize you-”

You stood, moving to approach him with the tentative grace of a doe, trying to make the changes in your demeanor profound. “I’ve been being unfair.”

He smiled with relief, moving to embrace you. “Yes, thank you for coming to me and sorting this out. It was certainly challenging to fight a war, and my wife.”

The mention of their vows rose a lump in your throat, but you swallowed it and buried your head in his shoulder. “Can I have you to myself for a few hours?”

And Robb, the sweet summer child who’d maintained hope in the found cause of the Bolton girl, believed you, hook, line, and sinker. “For as long as you want me.” 

{Possible part 3 to wrap things up? Drop me an ask and tell me what you think? Hope you enjoyed the sequel!}

[thenoblehouseofdayne]

King of the Flowers {Robb Stark x Male!Reader}

Anonymous requested: “I wonder if you could whip up another Robb Stark x Male Reader with smut please. Something along the lines of a royal visitor arrives at Winterfell with whom Robb is extremely taken with, the visitor likewise and they sneak off in the dead of night to do the deed.”

warnings: sexual thoughts and actions, sexual teasing and descriptions

You’d always had a weakness for the pretty ones. The first sons of Lords who had a veritable endless inheritance, but would bet it all on a single night of unfamiliar pleasure. It’d become a game for you. A few words, followed by a few glances, and if everything turned out well...

You were one of the lesser Tyrell cousins, little to inherit and even less expected of you, so you experienced a certain degree of freedom unusual for men of your standing. You’d begun a grand tour of Westeros, starting in King’s Landing and drifting through several other cities, before finding yourself in the temperate (to put it lightly) North. 

The Stark family had treated you kindly, and invited you to stay as long as you’d like, and with their vision of an eldest son, you planned to be abusing their hospitality for a few weeks longer. 

You’d heard once or twice that Robb Stark was attractive, or easy on the eyes, but Gods, if that wasn’t the understatement of the century! With those dark curls and blue eyes, you were safer averting your eyes, lest you be caught staring. 

He’d been polite to you, offering to spar or accompany you on your morning rides through the woods, and every interaction had been pleasant, with conversation ranging from where you’d grown up to old folktales and everything in between. 

His attraction to you had gone relatively unnoticed during your visit, until yesterday morning. You’d caught him staring, carnally, and his obvious deflection didn’t stop you from placing two and two together, and returning, determined, the next morning. 

He seemed flustered as you’d knocked on his door to wake him this morning, only half-dressed when he came to the door, muttering something about waking later than he’d intended, pulling on a tunic and a pair of boots and brushing past you to quickly walk to the stables, one hand adjusting the loose ties that secured the front of his trousers. 

Your curiosity was peaked. “Is everything alright, Robb? You seem distracted.”

He swallowed, turning his face away. “Like I said, I just lost track of time.”

“Hm. Quite. Busy morning?” You mussed his hair as you passed with a smirk, beginning to prepare your horse, as you did before each of your rides, grooming and outfitting the mare. 

He choked, cheeks flushing as he concealed it with a unsubtle cough. “What do you mean?”

You turned, an eyebrow raised. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Robb, we all have our needs. I can step out if you need a moment to yourself.” Your eyes flicked down towards the hastily tied trousers, before returning your attention to your horse.

“I wasn’t-” He blustered, unable to meet your eyes, his modesty and lingering embarrassment obvious in his astonished tone. “Let’s just go on the ride.” He mounted his horse and shifted impatiently as you poked and prodded until approval, mounting yours alongside him. 

You were smiling as you rode ahead, entering the privacy of the woods, and feeling the growing warmth of his gaze on your back. He wasn’t exactly being subtle here. 

“The southern kingdoms, they’re more liberal with their beliefs, yes?” He called ahead, waiting until you idled enough and kept pace beside you on the narrow path. 

“In a way. We’re certainly less stiff-collared about it, but even we have our moments. I was only teasing this morning, it’s none of my business who occupies your fantasies.”

“And if it was you?” 

You blinked, processing this for a split-second. “All the more reason to share that information, Stark, but if you’d like to compare my talents in and out of your dreams, I’d be willing to provide a trial.” You carried a jovial tone, but the intensity of the heat bouncing between the two of you was far from casual. 

He gave a soft laugh, though it sounded a little breathy and nervous. “We’ll see what the future holds, then.”

In your few weeks together, you’d never seen him like this, anxious and lovesick like a teenager. It was enough to spur on your taunts. “What if I’m not willing to wait?”

Robb’s horse came to a stop, and you could hear the serenity of the woods around you slow to a deafening silence as this confession was made. He didn’t respond, watching you slowly dismount the animal and fasten it to a limb.

The leaves crunched beneath your boots and you drew a quick breath, allowing your hands to skim the trees as you passed, eyes searching for a break in the trees. 

“Y/N...” his voice echoed out behind you, and you could hear the haste in his footsteps as he followed you. 

You rounded the bend and found your prize, a small pond at the bottom of a small hill, perfectly and serenely encircled with a lovely ring of trees, giving you the illusion of privacy and secrecy in the center of the woods. Your hands drifted to the fasten of your cloak. 

He crunched through the foliage, pausing just behind you, and watching you lay your cloak out on the slope. “It’s practically winter, you’re going to catch cold!” He complained, rooted to the spot as your hands moved to the fasten of your trousers. 

“You’ll keep me warm, won’t you?”

A warmth bloomed in his cheeks, but he didn’t protest. 

You again redoubled your effort of unlacing the breeches, tucking your thumbs into the waistband and glancing up to discover his rapt attention on your hands. “Would you like to do this bit?” 

He moved forward, eager but hesitant, pausing as his hands came to rest on your hips. “I’m not as experienced as you, I’m not sure that I’ll be the perfect companion for-”

You lifted a hand to his cheek. “Your innocence is one of your most endearing qualities, Stark. Shows there’s a sheep beneath your wolfish exterior.” You pinched his cheek, a teasing grin lighting up your face. 

His nerves seemed to dissipate with this latest jab, and his hand drifted to cup your member over your pants, giving a testing squeeze and hearing the soft exhale that resulted, before pushing you towards one of the trees that surrounded the grove. 

You lost your breath as you collided with the tree, instantly caught off guard as the wild streak emerged. 

Robb’s lips were fierce and suddenly upon yours, being sure to keep you pinned as he began a frantic and inexperienced exploration of the male kiss, eventually melting into it as the initial spark rose into a steady and bright flame, one hand still massaging your member. 

It was a disappointment when you had to separate for a short gasp of breath, a lazy smile curling up towards your eyes as you recovered from the intensity. “I see.” Gently pushing him off, you slowly kicked off your boots at the base of the tree, moving down towards your abandoned cloak. You looked over your shoulder at him again, your eyes darker than they had been in moments previous. “I want you, Robb Stark.”

He smiled back for the first time. “And how will you have me?”

---

{OO, surprise fic! Hope you enjoyed, even though there hasn’t been smut (yet), feel free to request a second part if you feel I’ve been a bit of a tease ;), and welcome to all the new followers!}

[thenoblehouseofdayne]

Alliance {Robb Stark x Targaryen!Reader}

@future-ll-evans requested: “What about a Targaryen!Reader and Robb Stark? Early ally? Dany sends her sister and Barristan (because he ain’t dead to me) secretly to gain the northern allies.”

Warnings: sexual content, mentions of pre-marital sex? 

(Sorry for the wait! Summer vacation is quite hectic for me, and my update scedule is going to be patchy for the rest of July, but to tide you over, here’s a Robb Stark!)

---

You had quite a few nightmares as a child. Not about the Rebellion, no, you were too young to remember that, but other dangers from Esos stuck in your mind clearly, and served as fuel for some night terrors. Your brother Viserys’ cruel hand, an old beggar snarling at you when you’d reached for the coins he’d dropped, loud and raucous storms that seemed to shake your bed.

None of it compared to waking up knowing you had to leave your sister and set sail for Westeros, possibly to be killed or to never return. 

You ate in silence, and met Ser Barristan down by the docks, accompanied by your sister, who’d come to see you off. You exchanged an embrace, she wished you safe travels and walked back to her palace discreetly. 

You had to take a small fishing boat, to avoid suspicion from passing ships or employees at the docks. Your sister had sent ahead letters to respectable families, alerting them of your incoming arrival. You planned to sail to the Bite, and work your way North, they had seceded from the Crown, and could benefit from a strong alliance- regardless of what side they had taken in the Rebellion. 

---

After meeting with Lysa Arryn, and traveling through the Neck, you arrived at Winterfell, hoping to convince the King of the North to bend the knee to your sister, or at least agree not to take up arms against her. From what you’d been told by other nobles, if Robb Stark agreed to an alliance, the other Northern houses would fall in line. 

Ser Barristan at your side, you approached the gates of the great fortress, heavy snow pummeling your personage as a blizzard raged. A small brigade rushed to receive you, offering to help you down from your horse and tend to your luggage. You were quickly ushered inside and seated beside a fire, and a few minutes later, the King of the North arrived to greet you. 

Concern was immediately apparent as you rose to meet him, and he insisted you remained by the fire, eyeing your bluing skin and silently wondering if you’d catch cold. “I apologize for the lack of preparation, we didn’t think you would brave the blizzard, and frankly, I’m not sure you should have.”

You laughed a little quietly, glad the feeling was returning to the tips of your fingers. “I suppose I underestimated just how severe the storm would be, I am not quite used to this Winter business, you Northerns must wear such heavy cloaks.” You griped, pawing at your blue cloak which seemed to disappear under a heavy wind. 

He chuckled in return, taking a seat beside you on the fur throw. There was a beat of silence between you too as the conversation settled, until eventually, he spoke. “What is it like? Out East, I mean.” 

You thought for a second. “I haven’t really been anywhere else, we left Westeros when I was small, and I don’t remember it well. But, it’s warm. I’ve seen a lot of the coast in our travels, and the water seems a little bluer there.” You gave a fond and homesick smile, watching the flames flicker in the hearth. “There’s a lot more sand.” You offered, a bit dismissively. You glanced over, examining his features fully for the first time, begrudgingly impressed by the strong cut of his jaw. 

Robb pretended not to notice you staring, and thought on how to continue the conversation. “Your name, it’s Y/N, correct?”

You gave a nod, inwardly pleased that he hadn’t pronounced it incorrectly like other northerner’s had. Something about their accent made Valyrian sound... oddly forced rather than the smooth transition of syllables- as you’d been taught. “Would you prefer Robb, or Lord Stark?” You responded, not wishing to offend. 

He thought for a moment. “Robb.” He said, with decision. “I don’t think I’m quite ready for Lord Stark.” 

You smiled in return, and turned back to the fire. 

---

Your quill touched the parchment lovingly as you penned your sister’s name, before dipping your quill back in the ink, ignoring the presence reading over your shoulder. 

Daenerys,

Thus far, my travels have been pleasant. I’ve been received well at all the castles I’ve visited, and the nobles have been nothing short of polite, in particular-

His lips pressed a soft kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder, as he brushed your hair back to better access the skin. 

You attempted to ignore his teasing and continued to write. 

-in particular, the Starks have been most gracious hosts and agreed to hold Ser Barristan and I a few more weeks until the weather settles. The winters this far North are brutal, I’ve never seen so much snow in my life! But, the castle is warm and-

He bit down quickly, before soothing the area with a brush of his tongue, continuing on a trail up your neck. “Take a break.” He murmured. 

You attempted to brush him off again. “I have to finish this-”

His hand moved to the straps of your slip, slowly removing the left and then the right and taking your exposed breasts in his hands. “She can wait a few minutes.”

You dropped the quill and began to move from the chair, when he swept you off your feet and tossed you onto the bed, a wolfish grin on his face. It seemed as though he’d been only a hair away from ravaging you anyways, and was simply waiting for you to deliver yourself to him. 

---

Daenerys had been particularly surprised to hear of your courtship, and more so, your plan to wed, but supported you none the less. Strategically, the move was perfect, and if he truly made you happy, there was no downside. She urged you to elope privately, for her presence was still not fully welcome in Westeros, and her army built slowly as she conquered more and more slaving cities, but supported your wishes to marry as soon as you could. 

As her ascension picked up steam, the Lannisters made moves to counter her, unknowing that the seeds of her revolt had already been planted in Westeros, and that the North already planned to rally behind her when the time came. 

The war was brewing, but in your marital bed, your alliances grew only stronger.