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#Red Dragon: The Wedding
reds-self-ships · 2 years
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Learned this was a thing today and gives the perfect vibes for a more "period-appropriate" version for ᴍᴇ, ʀʏᴜᴜ, Q ᴀɴᴅ ᴋᴀᴢᴜᴍᴀ's second dance.
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15-lizards · 7 months
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Westerosi-sonas are so funny like. I’m gonna input myself into the most crapsack world ever. I’m gonna reform the canon so I can imagine myself as the minor lord of a shitty keep. This is Harlan he got sent to the wall for sodomy and lost all of his toes to frostbite. Here’s Aenon he was murdered like saint Sebastian during the blackfyre rebellions. Wynnafred is a repressed lesbian married into the riverlands ofc and will fall in love with a tomboy daughter of a high lord before dying of Woman in ASOIAF Disease
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crawlingonthewalls · 2 years
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Weddings, am I right?
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eliaism · 1 month
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TW for mention of SA and child death
I’ve noticed TG/Team “neutrals” who act like B&C is “worse” than the red wedding and the sack of King’s Landing or at the very least, they never let people talk about the other two without saying “bUt bLoOd aNd ChEeSe!”
As if guest rights being violated and a mother watching her first child be killed and then having her throat slit AND THEN her son’s decapitated corpse with his direwolf’s head sewn on him being paraded around isn’t horrific.
Elia Martell was abandoned by her husband and r*ped by Gregor with the blood of her infant son whose head he smashed in on his hands before crushing her skull while her toddler daughter was stabbed over 50 times by Amory Lorch.
STOP comparing what happened to Hel and her children to TRW and TSOKL as if they weren’t all gruesome and acting like B&C has to be mentioned every time the other tragedies are brought up.
In the BTS for S2 we see Jaehaerys’ body being paraded around during the funeral, prolonging Helaena’s grief, while Aegon, her husband and the father of her children, is not present. She’s being forced to endure her son’s body being taken throughout the city so the greens can gain sympathy. (Fixed: jaehaera wasn’t sa, i remembered it as something happened to both her and Jaehaerys but i remember wrong, thanks for the correction)
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jokey05 · 1 year
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Theon Greyjoy during all of ASOIAF:
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Hey if you don't mind could you please do a robb stark x reader? Idk how but maybe they survive the Red Wedding and she feels anxious about everything and leading robb to express his trauma and then it's just them comforting each other
- thank you <3
Whatever May Come
Request: Hey if you don't mind could you please do a robb stark x reader? Idk how but maybe they survive the Red Wedding and she feels anxious about everything and leading robb to express his trauma and then it's just them comforting each other
Hi! I’m so sorry it took so long to get to this, thank you for being patient. Thank you for the request, this is my first time writing for Robb. To make sense of the story a little bit, the reader is a Tyrell. Her sister is Margaery and her grandmother is Olenna. Also, I’m referencing the Vale in this fic, please pretend that it’s close to Riverrun.
Also, I wrote out Talisa for this request, obviously. She’s replaced by the reader, but the reader isn’t pregnant. She and Robb get hurt, but escape. The rest of the events still unfold as seen in the show, but Robb survives and escapes before the end. Also, I know Arya was there when everything happened, but I’m not writing her in either so I can just focus on the request.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!
(Warnings: swearing, death, blood and gore, weapons, guilt and trauma, slight mentions and allusions to sex, let me know if i missed anything)
You had grown up in Highgarden, with your sister Margaery. On Robb’s sixteenth nameday, he was informed of your Father’s and his father’s plans to eventually wed you both. You had met a few times before, when your Father would bring you along to the feasts at Winterfell. 
The North did not have many allies. They were an independent nation, content to govern themselves. But just as the Tully’s swore fealty to the Starks, resulting in Catelyn’s betrothal to Ned, the Tyrells did the same. 
As the second born daughter, and third child overall to the Tyrell family, your position was not as highly valued as your siblings. Loras was a knight, revered around the realm for his charm and skill in combat. Margaery was cunning and beautiful, sure to make for a lucky match with any deserving Lord of the realm. They were both destined for greatness.
You, however, didn’t have a fate as secure. Sure, your dowry was sizable, and your family valued. But you had no real promise for climbing the ladder. You’d eventually be the wife of a respectable Lord, and Mother to his children. It wasn’t a fate you wanted, but you endured it all the same. 
Robb would be Lord of Winterfell one day, and Warden of the North. Your Father had a soft spot for you, and wanted you to be happy, and marry well. Luckily, Ned had a respect for your House, and approved of you enough to court you with his son. He requested that you come to stay with his family, so he could see whether or not you were the right fit for marrying into his family.
You were sent from your home to Winterfell, arriving on Robb’s name day. 
You were scared, dreading the life ahead of you that you had been sold into. You hadn’t seen Robb in years, unable to make it to an annual feast since the two of you were mere children. 
But Robb was the perfect gentleman, instantly easing your fears the moment he greeted you at the gate with his father, a kind smile on his face. 
You instantly clicked, becoming best friends. Neither of your families ever confirmed it, but you both knew that one day, you’d be promised to each other forever. It was like a dream come true. You couldn’t have asked for better.
It turned into a nightmare the day Winterfell received word that Ned had been arrested on charges of treason, and would be sentenced to death. In just a few days, Lords from all over the realm sworn to House Stark flocked to support their new King, effectively bringing everyone into an all out war. 
Robb refused to let you come with him, wanting you and his mother safe and out of harm’s way. You and Catelyn had other plans, eventually leaving Winterfell and joining Robb in the fight. 
In the midst of a war, as the proclaimed King in the North, Robb was responsible for the planning and executing of battle strategies. He knew his enemies were strong, relentless, and viewed as invincible by the common people. 
If he could take Casterly Rock, it would prove to the people that Tywin Lannister was not as strong as he seemed, and that the North had a good chance of winning the war. In order to take Casterly Rock, Robb would have to march his army through the Twins, a piece of land owned by Walder Frey. 
In the chaos of battle after battle and the constant moving of camps, you and Robb had nearly forgotten your family’s plans of marrying you to each other. 
That is until Lord Frey asked Robb to marry one of his daughters, in exchange for passage through his land and the use of his men. 
You told Robb to agree to it. If it came down to choosing you, or choosing his men, you wanted him to choose his men. If it meant that he would win the war with the least amount of casualties on your side, it was the only option he had, at least in your mind. You loved Robb, that was clear to anyone who took more than a second to watch the pair of you together. But you’d settle for being a mistress, or go so far as to give him up entirely, if it meant keeping him alive. He had to win. 
Even if he had to do it without you.
As infuriating as it could be at times, Robb was an honorable man. He would not marry a woman if his heart belonged to another, and he refused to give you up. 
You had told him it was a stupid idea. But no amount of trying to convince him would change his mind once it was set. He was one of the most stubborn men you had ever met, and you knew it wasn’t worth wasting more breath arguing over. You were married in a small ceremony, after Robb decided he couldn’t wait any longer to be with you. 
Every day, he woke up and risked his life for a cause much bigger than himself. He told you that he couldn’t go on, knowing that he wasn’t savoring everything he held dear to him. He wouldn’t take you for granted for another day, not when each day could be his last.
Even his mother agreed, finally approving the match and allowing you to marry.
Afterwards, there was still the matter of Walder Frey, and Robb’s promise to him.
As a compromise, Lord Frey agreed to marry Robb’s uncle, Edmure, to one of his daughters, in exchange for passage through his land. Robb kept his promise, and convinced his uncle to marry one of the daughters.
You attended a celebration, in honor of Edmure and his betrothed. 
Lord Frey allowed you into his home, extending his hospitality to you and the Northmen. Robb gave his apologies to Lord Frey, his daughters, and his granddaughters. You gave your apologies for your part in it as well. It was dismissed as water under the bridge, and the festivities continued. 
That night, while the men made camp outside, a small group of you attended the wedding. 
You stood beside Robb during the ceremony, watching as Lord Frey led his daughter down the aisle, where Edmure anxiously waited at the end. When the bride reached the end of the aisle, her father removed her veil, revealing his daughter to the room.
You let out a quiet gasp, and Robb turned to you, whispering in your ear. 
“What is it?”
“She’s beautiful,” you said, keeping your eyes on her. “You may have missed an opportunity here, I regret to admit.”
Robb fought a smile, returning his gaze to the betrothed. “Don’t be daft. You’re the most beautiful woman in this room, and you know it.”
You felt the heat creep up to your cheeks, ever so slightly shaking your head.
“Hush. Pay attention.”
You could hear the smirk in his voice. “Yes, My Queen. As you command.”
After the ceremony, the festivities were moved into the banquet hall. Men lined the banisters overhead, playing tunes for the guests. People laughed, danced, and chattered while the servants came around with ale. A group in the middle had taken to dancing, or for a more accurate phrase, stumbling around drunk. 
Robb laughed as he watched them, making you smile. The war had kept his smile from him for so long, it had been ages since you'd seen it or heard him laugh.
Somewhere throughout the night, Lord Edmure and his new bride had been whisked away for the bedding ceremony, a sight that you rolled your eyes at.
“It’s tradition,” Robb said, grabbing your hand in his.
“A barbaric tradition. As if it isn’t already a humiliating enough experience for a girl to be with a man for the first time. Now she’ll have half of the party in there, drunk and watching.”
Robb smiled softly at you as you spoke, squeezing your hand. “I couldn’t say no, darling. Lord Frey is already quite cross with me, we have to give him his little joys. My Uncle and Lady Frey were smiling, it isn’t as if I’ve forced them to do anything they don’t want to do.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” you said, smiling back. “It doesn’t make it any less of a stupid tradition. I pity her.”
“Oh, what would you know? You didn’t have to do it,” he teased, grinning.
“And you were all the luckier for it. I wouldn’t have been as nice as I was, which if I recall correctly, you seemed to very much enjoy. You’d have left our chambers taking a few drunk Lords to the Maester and returned to a locked door. I do hope he knows how to properly heal broken noses.”
Robb let out a chuckle at your words, warming your heart at the sound of it. “Lucky I forbade it then, aren’t I? Saved a few people from a bloody evening.”
“And yourself from a rather unfortunate one, as well. I’d count us both lucky, Your Grace,” you teased back, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand.
The night continued on, the festivities still lively. Across the hall, Lady Catelyn was sitting with her uncle and Lord Bolton. A servant came over to fill their cups, when Lord Bolton abstained. 
You raised a brow, listening in on his words as best you could.
“I never drink, My Lady. It dulls the senses.”
“That’s the point,” the Blackfish said, standing to find a bathroom. 
You watched the path he took to walk out, stilling in your chair when you noticed that the hall doors had been shut just as he left. It was a wedding and a feast, people should have been able to come and go as they pleased. Why would the doors be shut? Lady Catelyn seemed to notice as well, standing up as a few stray men in armor entered the room.
The men on the balcony played a solemn tune, one you recognized to be The Rains of Castamere. 
You were not an idiot. You had heard that song before, you knew its origins. Your Grandmother, the Lady Olenna of House Tyrell, raised you and your sister well. She taught you to pay attention to every detail, and to never walk into a room without knowing every crevice of it. You had learned from the best. And you knew something was wrong. 
Lady Catelyn knew it, too.
You turned to your husband, grabbing his arm. “Robb–”
“Your Grace,” Lord Frey interrupted, standing up and silencing the room.
Robb stood up, walking to stand in front of Lord Frey’s table at the front of the room. You slowly and quietly backed your chair away from the table while everyone took their seats, giving yourself room to stand quickly. You tried to ignore the pit in your stomach, but it wouldn’t let you ignore it. Trusting your instincts, you slowly reached for your boot, where you kept a dagger inconspicuously strapped to it. 
That was another thing your Grandmother taught you. To always be prepared, to be one step ahead, and to always be the one to surprise.
“I feel I’ve been remiss, in my duties,” Lord Frey said, eyes on Robb. “I’ve given you meat and wine and music…but I haven’t shown you the hospitality you deserve. My King has married and I owe my new Queen a wedding gift.”
“Robb!” Catelyn suddenly called out, slapping Lord Bolton across the face, who bolted across the room the second he could get free. 
Robb turned just in time to see one of Walder Frey’s soldiers, coming at you with a dagger. Just as you felt a hand grab your shoulder and a sharp blade graze your throat, you dislodged the dagger from your boot, spinning around and plunging it into your attacker’s throat.
Robb moved to rush to you, but one of the men on the balcony shot an arrow at him, sticking him in the shoulder. He let out a groan, stumbling back. Across the room, his mother had been shot as well.
“No!” You screamed, diving to the floor as arrows began to fly, massacring the Northmen inside. 
Robb had been struck with another arrow, sending him tumbling to the ground. You grasped for him, hooking your arms under his and straining to pull him as close to you as you could. Shielded partially by the table, you held your blade’s hilt between your teeth, checking Robb’s wounds. He was bleeding, but luckily was still conscious, just in shock. 
“Y/N,” he murmured, dazed.
“Quiet,” you whispered, hushed. “I’m getting us out of here.”
Screams echoed throughout the hall, and you shielded Robb as men scrambled to get free. Chaos erupted around you, all while Walder Frey sat at his table, his goblet raised. 
You scanned around the room, looking for your best way out. You pulled Robb up, snapping the ends of the arrows off. If you pulled them out, he could bleed out. It was easier this way, and he’d make it long enough to be treated. He groaned in pain, tears brimming in his eyes. 
“I’m sorry,” you said, cradling his face. “You have to help me. You have to stand up. We just have to get to that corridor, it’s unmanned. Walder’s son was guarding it earlier, he isn’t there anymore. Robb, please. I can’t do this without you.”
“Mother,” he whispered, leaning up. “Where is she?”
You looked around, spotting her under a table. She had pulled an arrow from her back, and was reaching for the blade of a dead man on the floor. Suddenly, she was grasped by her hair and pulled out from under the table.
“No–”
You covered Robb’s mouth with your hand, willing him to be quiet. “If they see us, we’ll both die. I can’t let you die, I won’t.”
He struggled in your grip, and you bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. You shifted him off your lap, gripping your blade tight. “I’ll help her, alright? Please stay here. Please.”
Before he could protest, you began crawling out from under the table. You eased your way as out of sight as you could, following where Catelyn had been dragged. She was doing her best to fight off her captor, and was successful, if only for a moment. 
Soldier’s came to the man’s aid, holding her still as they brought her in front of Lord Frey’s table. 
“What shall we do with her, sire?”
Lord Frey pondered it a moment, smirking. Lady Catelyn fought with her life, scratching and kicking her captors, drawing blood. They groaned and faltered as she screamed, clawing to get free. 
Finally, Lord Frey pointed to her, before calling over more of his men. “Kill the bitch.”
You watched in horror as her hair was grabbed by a man from behind, her head tilted back. In the end, it took five men to hold her still, hardly able to contain her. A blade was passed to the closest man, and her throat was slit. She crumpled to the floor in a pool of her own blood, her eyes still open and staring right through you. 
You scrambled to get back to Robb, who had pushed himself up to his knees. Tears were freely falling down his face, and he let out a sound of anguish as you slid to his side, pulling him into you. 
“Don’t look,” you said, holding him tight. “Don’t look. Listen to me, Robb. We have to get out of here. We have to keep fighting, alright? Are you hearing me?”
He nodded into your shoulder, pulling his head up. Your heart ached as you saw the look on his face, nothing but pure agony. He willed himself to be strong, to be strong for you. He shelved his emotions, his face growing cold as he looked around. Roose Bolton had reentered the room, presumably looking for the two of you. Robb turned his attention back to you, grabbing your hand.
“I’m hearing you. Where do we go?”
You pointed to the corridor in the corner of the room, still left unmanned. “We have to go that way. It will lead deeper into the castle, but away from the camps outside. He will have sent most of his men outside to kill our armies.”
Robb seethed, his eyes filled with rage and sorrow. You shook your head, squeezing his hand. 
“Robb, listen to me. We will avenge them. All of them. And we will get revenge for your Mother. The North will always remember, and they will never forgive. We’ll gather our armies. We’ll fight, and we’ll win. We have been betrayed, but we have not lost. We will win, I promise you that…but only if we get out of here. It will mean nothing, and they will have died for nothing, if we don’t get out of here.”
Robb hurriedly nodded, placing your dagger back in your boot. He reached for a dead man’s sword, passing it to you. He unsheathed his own sword, crawling out from beneath the table. He reached for your hand, quickly pulling you up. 
“You know how to use it, and you must. Hold on to my coat. Stay behind me, and whatever you do, don’t let go.”
You nodded, holding onto him. You gripped the sword tight in your free hand, the other clutched tightly to Robb’s coat. You wildly looked around, waiting for an opening. The second one cleared, you yelled for him to go, quickly following after him.
Robb cut down every man in your path that night.
Every soldier that got within a few feet of you both, he cut down without hesitation. You clung to him, stabbing and slicing whatever came near you. Together, you made it out of the hall and into the corridor, where you took the lead. 
You led the pair of you out the back of the castle, while the front was in battle. Together, you fled into the night, trying your hardest not to listen to the sound of your men’s screams. 
That night, you fled on foot. Robb was injured, and couldn’t travel fast. Luckily, a few bands of men had escaped the Frey’s attack, and found you on the road with a few horses. You rode through the night all the way to the Vale, where you arrived in the early morning. 
Robb’s Aunt, the Lady Arryn, allowed you and your men into her home, as you seeked asylum. 
You trusted her well enough. After all, she was Catelyn’s sister. While you were not particularly close with either woman, a familiar name brought you comfort. Stark, Arryn, Tully, it was all name to a house you and Robb would be welcome home in. 
Robb was seen by the Maester, who bandaged him up as best he could. He told you to keep Robb off his feet as best you could for the next few days. It was best to lie low anyways. Although the Eyrie was loyal to the North, and would protect the man named King in the North, there was still the possibility of spies and betrayal. 
Just as you got Robb into bed in your chambers, a raven arrived from Riverrun. You promised him you’d be back shortly, and went into the throne room to hear Lady Arryn deliver the message.
The Blackfish, Catelyn’s uncle, had escaped the Twins and returned to his home to prepare his army for a potential battle with the Lannister army. He would hold his fort, and await for further instruction. Edmure Tully had been captured. Roose Bolton had betrayed the North. Tywin Lannister offered to name him Warden of the North, only if he was successful in assassinating you and Robb. Your deaths and the death of your army would end the war, allowing the Lannister’s to pull their army back to King’s Landing. 
Although the attempts on your life were unsuccessful, others weren’t. Nearly three quarters of the combined army who had followed you to the Twins were slaughtered there. The rest narrowly escaped with their lives, and assumedly were fleeing back home. It was confirmed that Lady Catelyn, Robb’s mother, had been murdered. Greywind, Robb’s direwolf, had been slain as well.
When you returned to your chambers, the hour still early, Robb had sat up in bed, groaning in pain. You sat down next to him, gently laying your hand on his arm, With tears in your eyes, you informed him of the betrayal, and the confirmed deaths on your side. 
“The Blackfish sent word. Roose Bolton and Walder Frey betrayed us, paid off by the Lannisters. Over half the Northern army is dead, the rest captured or seen fleeing. Greywind was put down…and your mother.”
His face crumbled, and he broke down into tears. He slumped into your lap, desperately clutching at the fabric of your dress. He gripped you tight, sobs muffled into your stomach. You fought your own tears, wrapping Robb tight in your arms.
He cried himself to sleep, nearly making himself sick.
The next morning, Robb didn’t speak of the night before. 
In the following days, he didn’t utter a word about it to you, only speaking of it to the Lord’s who still supported the North. Ravens came back and forth to the Eyrie, and only a seldom number of houses knew you and Robb had seeked shelter in the Vale.
Robb spent much of his time distracting himself, in the training yard with his young cousin Robyn, or out on horseback. Lords came and went, speaking of battle plans.
You didn’t know much about them. You weren’t there to hear them, and Robb wouldn’t tell you when you asked. 
Unlike Robb, you could hardly leave your chambers.
You were not a weak person. You weren’t raised to be easily frightened or overwhelmed. You had been taught better than that, your Grandmother made sure of it. But when you awoke the morning after you arrived at the Vale, and your husband was able to get up and leave your chambers, you were simply frozen in bed. Petrified and paranoid, afraid that anyone who made it past the guards had come to collect for the price on your head.
It tormented you for days. Slowly, you were able to leave your chambers, but you couldn’t go far. Robb kept to himself, finding it hard to even look at you. He did his duties, and returned to your chambers every night, but he wasn’t really there. 
One evening, Lady Arryn called everyone to dinner, in memory of her sister. The thought of leaving your chambers made you sick, but you didn’t have it in your heart to say no to either Robb or Lady Arryn. You were obliged to attend, and you and Robb got ready in silence. You still wore black, as a sign of mourning. 
Across the room, Robb finally called for you. He hadn’t spoken more than a few words to you in days. But he finally did, standing in front of the mirror. 
“Y/N?” He asked, turning to you. “Could you help me?”
You stood up from sitting on the edge of the bed, moving to stand beside him. “What is it?”
He slowly handed you an embroidered black ribbon, the edges frayed. You furrowed a brow, looking up at him. His face was solemn. 
“It was my mothers,” he said, and your face softened. “I want to wear it tonight, but I don’t know where to put it. My Aunt said she used to tie it in her hair.”
His voice caught at the end of his sentence, and you rested your hand on his shoulder, easing him. 
“As pretty as you would look with a ribbon in your hair,” you grinned, making Robb crack a small smile. “I expect we can think of something more practical. How about we cuff your sleeves? We can tie it around your wrist. Hmm?”
He nodded, letting out a shaky breath. He held out his hand for you to take, and you gently rolled his sleeve before securing the ribbon around his wrist. You pulled a ribbon from your own hair, tying it around his other wrist.
“There. Are we ready?”
He nodded, holding his arm out for you to take. “We are. Thank you, love.”
He guided the pair of you to dinner, a pit settled in both your stomachs. A cloud of sadness hung over both your heads, casting its shadow over the rest of your evening. During the meal, Lady Arryn told stories of her childhood with her sister, with tears in her eyes. You laughed together, remembering Catelyn. Robb told a few stories of his own. 
“You’ll remember this, darling, you had already come to stay with us,” he said, turning to look at you. “It was the day we found the direwolves. One for each of us. Mother griped and griped at Father when we returned with them, a pup under each arm. It took us days to get her to accept them. She called them beasts, always tripping with them underfoot while they followed us around. I think the first time she accepted them was when Y/N and I were out in the courtyard. Mother was on the balcony, watching us play with Rickon.”
Robb smiled as he spoke, reaching for your hand. “Rickon was running after Y/N, and he accidentally stepped on the back of her dress. The end of it ripped, and they both fell. Nobody was hurt, they were laughing by the time they hit the ground. But Greywind bounded over, sniffing around. Making sure they were alright.”
Robb paused, looking at his lap, taking a minute to pull himself together. 
You squeezed his hand, running your thumb over the back of his knuckles. “I’ll finish the story, love.”
“No, no,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I’m alright. I can do it. Anyway, I rushed over, making sure they were alright. Y/N was being dramatic, making a big fuss over her dress being ripped. She was trying to make Rickon laugh, he looked a little bewildered and guilty. The whole time, Greywind was standing over us all while we were sitting in the dirt. A guard came over, and he bent down to help Rickon and Y/N up. But Greywind, still only a small little thing, darted in front of them. All teeth and snarls, blocking the guard from getting to them. I doubt at that age he could have done much damage, but he sure was ready to try his best.”
Everyone chuckled, taking sips of their drinks around the table. You smiled at the memory, squeezing Robb’s hand again. He continued.
“I had to call Greywind off. Just like that, he was back at our sides, all content. As if he wasn’t ready to chew off that guard’s hand. He was so protective of us all, from the beginning. And he minded well. We got everyone up and headed to get cleaned up, and Mother whistled from the balcony. We all looked up, and she was grinning. ‘Bring me my son,’ she said. ‘And get that dog a bone.’ And she went inside. That was it.”
A tear streamed down Robb’s face, and he quickly wiped it away. “I’m really going to miss them.”
Lady Arryn nodded, wiping her own tears. “Me too, my boy. Me too.”
That evening after dinner, you guided Robb quietly back to your chambers. He didn’t say a word on the way back, only stopping to open the door for you. You both undressed, getting ready for bed. You had your back to him, only turning around once you had finished. When you finally turned around, your heart broke at the sight of him.
Robb stood in front of the mirror with his shirt off, pulling at the scars the two arrows left on his torso.
It was the first time Robb had left his shirt off long enough for you to see them in a while. The day he stopped needing you to help him dress, he kept them covered and out of your sight. But here he was, right before you. Vulnerable, and sad. 
You slowly walked over to him, laying your hand on his shoulder blade. His eyes met yours in the mirror, and his face crumbled once again. You wrapped your arms around his waist tightly, resting your cheek in the middle of his back. He clutched at your arms, his head hung low. 
He turned around in your arms, bringing you into his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
You shook your head, pulling back to see his face. “Why are you apologizing? There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“There is!” He said, angrily wiping at his tears. “I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t protect any of them!”
“It is not your fault,” you reassured, gripping his arms.
“It is! You’re cowering around the castle, barely able to leave our chambers. I can barely look at you without being eaten alive with guilt. I should have seen it coming. But I was selfish, and I let my men pay the price for it. And Greywind…my Mother…”
You threw your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into you. He held you tightly, hiding his face in your neck. You could feel his tears land on your skin, and you felt a twinge in your heart.
“My sweet boy,” you said, moving to cradle his face in your palms. “You will not blame yourself. I won’t hear any more of it! It isn’t your fault, no more than it is mine. There was no way to see this coming. We did what we had to do, Robb. We couldn’t save them. But we could avenge them. And the only way to do that was ensuring we made it out alive. I’m so sorry we couldn’t do more.”
You gently ran your fingers along the scars on his torso, feeling him tense under your touch. You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder. 
“I won’t lie to you, Robb. I was scared. I’m still scared. But hear me, and hear me well. It is not, and it will never be your fault. There is nothing you could have done. Nothing. But we will avenge them all, I promise you that. They didn’t die for nothing.”
Robb covered his eyes with the heels of his hands, nearly gasping for breath as he cried. He clutched at his chest, his voice raw. “It hurts. Make it stop, please.”
He looked small like this. Just a boy, thrust into the nasty grip of war. It was tearing him apart. You gently walked him back until you reached the foot of the bed, easing him down onto it. He sat, and you stood between his legs, cradling his face.
“I know, my love. I know.”
After a while, the air had calmed. You were now in bed, laying facing each other. Robb was running a finger up and down your arm, keeping his eyes low.
His voice was quiet. “I miss them. I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing them.”
You nodded, settling into his chest. “That’s alright. I think you’ll always miss them. But it will get easier…it has to. They’ll always be with you.”
Your voice shook as you spoke. He protectively wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him. He pressed a kiss into your hair, holding you tight. It was quiet another moment, before he spoke again, whispering to you.
“You’re safe with me. You know that, right?”
You nodded, but he didn’t feel assured. You didn’t, either.
“I mean it. You never have to worry about your safety with me. I’ll protect you with my life if I have to. And I plan on living a long and happy life, with you by my side. You’re stuck with me, alright? My girl. My Queen.”
You let out a breathy laugh, feeling tears well up in your eyes. You closed your eyes to keep them from falling, pressing yourself further into Robb’s side.
“I believe you, my love. My King. We’ll be alright. I believe that, too.”
A/N - Hi! This one got a little long, sorry. I hope it was what you were looking for, and I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think!”
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melxhunter · 10 months
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A WARRIOR’S VOYAGE
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"With the sins of the sun and the sadness in the sky, you shall wonder why the universe never loved you back."
— In a world overrun by the corrupt and mad, driven by lust, greed, egoism, desire and obsessionalism, having a sweet and innocent nature always ends with death. Being honorable and having a strong moral compass is viewed as something ethereal one can only dream of.
That being said, her chances were slim. But she wasn't going to let that stop her.
It was winning or dying.
And Fiyona Mormont was not ready to die.
SCROLL DOWN FOR MORE…
HOUSE MORMONT of Bear Island is a vassal House which holds fealty to House Stark of Winterfell, to the Warden of the North. They had always been a small House – it was no secret. But somehow, that alone just made them even prouder.
It didn't matter how many overlooked the island's inhabitants and failed to see the whole picture. For even if most didn't fully realize it, House Mormont was fearsome enemies but also excellent allies. Even if they indeed are a very small house.
Their ancestral home of Bear Island is an island far to the northwest of Winterfell, its location and densely forested areas with a large bear population the main reasons to why it's the home to mostly woodsmen, crofters and fisherfolk. Despite that, Bear Island was one of the places within the Seven Kingdoms known for their skilled warriors. Known for how impeccable they were at sword fighting.
Not only that, but Bear Island was also one of the few subcultures within Westeros with an tradition of female fighters. You see, over the age of time, there had always been dangers of imminent attack from ironborn raiding ships while the men were out at sea which eventually led to the women of Bear Island being expected to defend their homes from attacks. Sometimes it even was attacks from wildings who avoided the wall completely by using boats to cross the bay from the Frozen Shore.
Thus people who hail from Bear Island are mostly strong, hardy, loyal and deep down compassionate and kindhearted. When they know what needs to be done, they don't hesitate to take action.
Fiyona Mormont was no exception. The young she-bear was taught to be a warrior from an early age, and she had always known the true horrors of the world, known about the monsters hiding in the shadows since the early stages of her youth.
Fiyona was no stranger to death either, for she had watched the life leave disappear from the animals which she hunted, even watched the life slip away from her father's eyes. It was horrible, but she knew it was a part of the harsh world she lived in.
Nothing could ever change it. It was the way it was, the way it always had been and always would remain.
What Fiyona was a stranger to, however, was love. Not the kind of love you receive from your mother, a sibling or a dear friend. No, Fiyona was a stranger to the kind of ethereal love which exists between two souls. Between two hearts which ignites in such a heated flame whenever they're near one another.
Not even in her life as Mia Nordin had she ever experienced it... not that she remembered that life...yet.
As the Seven Kingdoms seemed to hold its breath while preparing itself for yet another war, completely amid the world where greed and power reign supreme, Fiyona's life collides with a another's...under arranged circumstances.
Thus began the story of Fiyona Mormont and Robb Stark. Two young humans who would change the course of the game itself.
The future Warden of the North and the former heiress of Bear Island.
The Young Wolf and the She-Wolf.
The King and Queen in the North.
As brave as the dusk & as fierce as the storm.
Fiyona Mormont's tale is filled with broken pieces, terrible choices, betrayals and ugly truths. In spite of those parts indeed being heavy and literally true, they are nevertheless misleading. For the tale is also filled with happiness, heroism, love, humanity, kindness and peace in her soul.
It's an entangled tale in which a black bear is forced to run with the wolves only discover she was one of them all along.
A tale of the wild wolves and the black bear.
Interested to read more? Then check out the story A Warrior’s Voyage on my wattpad profile melxhunter!!
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weirdero · 5 months
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Blood and cheese will be the closest thing we have to the red wedding and the impact it made.
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helaenahightower · 2 years
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Alicent Hightower in the Episode 5 Preview
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rozsesandart · 1 year
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ROZSESANDART’S ASOIAF FASHION SERIES 🪡
Dress inspired by: House Bolton 🫀
Motto: Our Blades are Sharp🫀
Location: Dreadfort, The North, Westeros 🫀
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Art by @rozsesandart
Art masterlist
Commissions OPEN
I am @rozsesandart on twitter- Tumblr- Instagram-Pinterest
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The Red Wedding 🤝 Blood & Cheese
Being horrendously brutal and seeming smart in the moment, but actually being poor decisions in the long run due to turning the smallfolk against you and eliminating the rules of war
(Credit to @kirby.alice on TikTok for her analysis of The Red Wedding)
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alannybunnue · 1 year
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Ok, You Asked For This: Daemon Blackfyre and his Red Wedding
Based on this ask from last year, i present you all this insanity. I tried my best, unfortunately my mind has been destroyed lately.
Requested by: Anon (😢)
Tags: @rosaryos - @haven-is-happy
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What a blessed day
You thought as you were dressed and prepared to finally marry a wonderful man, you couldn't be happier.
You were committed to fulfill your duty at last, after years of despair, your father finally found the perfect suitor for you, giving a way to escape the rollercoaster you were stuck on.
Both of your parents were proud of their little girl finally free to live her life for once, soon, you found yourself walking down the aisle to be reunited with your betrothed.
A wonderful, brave and wise gentleman your father found for you, everyone said and to you, they couldn't be more right.
As you walk with your father by your side to your soon to be husband, you looked around to see your family and friends looking emotional, so happy for you...until you saw a familiar figure in the crowd.
Daemon Blackfyre, the bastard son of Aegon IV.
And soon the memories rushed in your mind, everything he did so far.
Your family was part of the court in Aegon's reign, there you met his son with the "Queen" Daena, Daemon.
You both became friends pretty quickly at the time, you never judged the fact that he was a bastard, even if your parents tried to warn you that something was wrong, something didn't seemed right this friendship of yours. But in your stubbornness, you accused them to judge the boy.
You regret your words to this day.
Months went by, and you finally reach adulthood, many marriage proposals started to show and you soon met some of your suitors.
Many had distinctive personalities, some you enjoy more than others. But the end was always the same, they would let you down some how, many gave up and left.
You started to wonder if there was something wrong with you. So you put your heart out to your dear friend and Daemon would reassure you that there was nothing, that your suitors couldn't see what wonderful lady you were...
"They weren't worthy of you"
You were too oblivious, you didn't see the signs. Once most of your suitors were gone, Daemon asked you to marry him, declaring that you both could run away from all of this.
You didn't saw him like that, the thought of leaving your family was too much for you, too much pressure.
You denied him, and consequentially, Daemon caused a Rebellion against his half-brother Daeron.
Your family ran away from the chaos, you were finally in peace.
Or so you thought.
Once the ceremony was done, you tried your best to ignore the presence of your old friend who was looking at you with eyes that you knew would hunt for the rest of your life.
The eyes of madman.
Other than that, everything was going smoothly for you, the celebration was going well.
You finally left for your bedding, which was the part that you were more nervous about, even if your dear husband reassure to you that it would be fine, you were still insecure about this.
Too much to hear what was going on in the other room.
You stood still while nervously taling off your gown, as your husband helped you, he also kept repeating his sweet words and gestures to calm you down.
Once you were finally bare, you heard a knock on the door, both of you looked confused, since no one should interrupt you in this moment...
Your husband decided to answer the door to question who was it and why were they interrupting, but in the moment that he opened, a sword crossed through his body.
You screamed at the top of your lungs as the body of your newlywed was thrown on the floor to reveal who was his killer, Daemon. You immediately covered yourself as the man walked inside and admired you.
He stopped right in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours, the fear was growing fast as he forced you to show yourself to him, your body was irresistible to him.
He picked you up immediately and thrown you on bed, your screams and little punches didn't stopped him, since he always loved when you fought back.
.
.
.
It was a blessed day
That was what you thought as you walked down with your legs trembling in that same aisle, that was once beautiful, but now was covered in the blood of all the guests, your family and friends.
In the place of the guests, were the all of Daemon's allies who helped him since the beginning. They were all there covered in the blood of innocent people.
The only survivor of the massacre, the poor Septon, stood in front of you and Daemon as you repeated the same vows that were meant for your beloved. You knew that he had no choice but to comply to Daemon's demands, just like you.
The cheers and applauses from the crowd just made you shake, in your despair, you silently wished this was an awful nightmare.
But Daemon's kiss was what truly showed you that this was reality, he kept his lips on you as if he would devour you completely, he was a hungry beast that was insatiable.
There's no point for the bedding ceremony after what happened last night. So your new husband took you away from that place, for it was no longer your home. Your home was with him and his people, for soon you would be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, or so he said.
But your attention wasn't on Daemon's words, but yes on the body of the poor Septon whose duty was fulfilled, so there's no use for him anymore.
You wished in that moment, that you would be granted the same fate as him, once your duty as a wife was done, you would be freed from this nightmare.
But Daemon wasn't that merciful.
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A/N: I really hope this was good, because i had a bit of a headache to do this one. Didn't wanted to be cliche. Thanks for reading until here 💖
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g0oshtt · 1 month
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Sometimes I think I'm a little stupid for being so shocked by B&C but I already watch and read GOT 🤡
and I thought it was all "calm"
(Before anyone militates, I don't speak English very well and there is no correct translation for the word I wanted to use, so I used calm.)
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allovesthings · 2 years
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you know sometimes I wonder if I complain about the costumes in GOT too much but then I do a side by side comparison of two outfits that Alicent wear probably on the regular with what Catelyn was wearing both regularly (for the first one) and at the red Wedding (you know an actual royal wedding since Edmure is part of the royal family of the Starks at that point) and No, I don’t think I complain enough.
The Starks and the Tully are great houses and by the red wedding, Catelyn is queen mother. She deserved better costumes.
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thewingedwolf · 1 year
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Visenya is my Tywin Lannister, I love how cartoonishly evil witch queen-y she is, every time she does more bad shit with magic or commits a war crime i’m like “THIS IS WHY SHES THE SUPERIOR SIBLING”
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carebooks · 2 years
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obviously it made sense to hold a secret wedding, that way it was quick with no fuss and no one to oppose it but real talk? after every single westeros wedding going badly with at least one murder they weren’t taking any chances with a big gathering. they said let’s do a vegas elopement to spare any drama and i love them for it
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