#robb stark x tyrell!reader

[in-my-feels-probably]

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!”

#game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #robb stark x reader #robb stark #robb stark imagine #robb stark x tyrell #robb stark x tyrell!reader #the red wedding #hotd #house of the dragon #house stark #requests open

[julessworldd]

Red revenge Robb Stark fic

A/N: Basically i saw this Robb edit on tik tok and thought of about it for a fic. Basically the red wedding happens but everyone doesn’t realize Robb made it alive. So my fic is about that but also @valeskafics thoughts.. Bel said what if his wife was kidnapped by the the Lannisters and was forced to marry Joffrey. I made Y/n a Tyrell, Margery’s twin and youngest child of Mace Tyrell.

Warning: violence(Its a got fic so obviously there’s some blood shed lol), angst, marriage, child, pregnancy mention. Smut implied at the end. Bedding ceremony is mentioned(idk if that’s a trigger ) Jaime don’t gets his character arc yet, very much s1 Jaime, but set in s3. Love Jaime but it’s for plot, sorry Jeyne I stole your man for a plot 😘 okay enjoy babes 💚

Y/n Tyrell, twin of Margarey Tyrell, the prettiest rose. Margarey was beautiful with her bright blue eyes, perfect skin, red hair for days. The biggest smile that would make the strongest knight break down. Then there was Y/n, she was beautiful like her twin but she didn’t feel like that. Everyone forgot about her or at least she thought. Hiding in Marg’s shadow since day 1 she’s got used to be Margarey’s twin and the youngest Tyrell.

Mace Tyrell was in the north when the war broke out as Robb Stark brought his banner men down south. Y/n and Mace got separated but Robb found her. He swore he would get Y/n back to Highgarden to safety.

As the months passed, the two fell in love and Robb found a septon that ironically married his Aunt Lynna to Prince Rhaegar. They were married in secret much to Lady Cat’s disappointment. It was stupid to marry for love in this world but they didn’t care. Robb loved Y/n and wanted to protect her forever. Y/n loved Robb more than what she thought she could love anyone. More than her twin in Highgarden. Soon the Starks and their men went to a Frey wedding as Robb’s uncle is supposed to marry Freys daughter.

The wedding had ended as the couple were giggling and feeding each other as others danced. Robb and Y/n were watching the new couple as they talked.

“If you actually kept your oath, you would be eating out of her hand” Y/n smirked

“Perhaps I made a terrible mistake” Robb deadpanned.

Y/n gasped as she attempted to hit Robb’s shoulder but he grabbed her wrist gently pulling her close to him, “Hitting your king is an act of treason”

Y/n’s face soften as she giggled, “I’m sorry my love” Robb let her wrist go as he kissed her hand, “Good don’t do it again”

Walder commanded the bedding ceremony was to begin.. lords grabbed Rosylin and lady’s giggled as they attempted to take off Eddume’s jacket. Y/n watched as the group left, “I’m sure the gods would live if we didn’t have that”

“It’s tradition, Y/n/n” Robb replied

“Doesn’t make it right” Y/n said as the door shut and a Lannister battle song started. Y/n and Catelyn made eye contact as a Frey guard flipped tables and shot some Stark bannermen. It finally hit Robb what happened, he attempted to grab Y/n but a Frey man grabbed her and dragged her towards to door as she screamed and kicked.

Y/n was held by her arms as she watched Robb got shot by two arrows knocking him down. Walder said something but Y/n was in shock as she watched her love get shot and her mother in law screamed at him to get up.

“Get up Robb! Get up and walk out, take me as your hostage. He’s my son! My first boy!” Catelyn screamed.

Walder sat there as a Frey guard stabbed Robb in his ribs, “The Lannisters send their regards” Robb looked at Y/n as he fell to the ground. Blood poured out as she screamed. Catelyn screamed and cut Walder’s daughter’s throat. Someone knocked Y/n out and dragged her to Jaime Lannister’s horse waiting outside. Hours later Y/n woke up tried to scream but was gagged and had her hands and legs tied.

“Oh the wolf’s bitch is awake” Jaime chuckled.

Soon enough Y/n was in the Red Keep as Jaime had her over his shoulder as he carried to his father’s chambers

“Father, here’s your grandson’s bride” Jaime sat her on her feet.

“What?!” Y/n said but, Jaime still had her gagged.

Y/n was set to marry King Joffrey, her grandmother made an alliance with House Lannister. She never hated anyone until now. She hated her grandmother, her father, anyone else that influenced this marriage. She hated Walder Frey and his men. She watched her love die in front of her and her mother in law had to be dead as well.

Margarey walked in Y/n’s chambers with a big smile, “Sister, I’m so glad to see you”

“I can’t marry Joffrey, he’s a monster! He had Robb killed in front of me! You’re just like everyone else, can’t believe father is allowing this” Y/n yelled

“Y/n, Robb broke his oath. It’s horrible yes but we can’t forget that” Margarey said

“Shut up! We were married and loved each other, he was my world! And you let him get killed! He was good damn it!” Y/n yelled as her older brother walked in

“What’s all the yelling about?” Loras asked

“Why do you care? Mhm! Robb was the love of my life and he was murdered! I hate this fucking family and fuck the king!” Y/n spat, throwing a vase. Y/n was known for her quick temper and thin patience. She had enough of everything and everyone. She wanted Robb but he was dead.

A few weeks later Ceseri dragged Y/n into a council meeting.. The king, the hand Tywin Lannister, Lord Varys, Lord Balish sat and Lord Tyrion was there.

Cersei pushed Y/n down on the ground, Tyrion jumped down for his seat and held a hand out to Y/n, “Lady Y/n” Y/n looked at Tyrion and took his hand, “Thank you, my lord”

“Maester Pyell, give my uncle the letter” Joffery said

Tyrion got the letter and read it out loud “What’s this? Bad poetry?”

Joffery chuckled dark, “Robb Stark is dead and his bitch mother!”

The door opened as Robb walked in with his sword out, he seen Y/n and grabbed her into his side, “Oh is he?” Robb said in a deep voice.

Everyone was silent, jaws opened in shock and fear, Cersei stood in front of Joffery like a mother lion to her cub. Tywin grabbed his sword and walked towards Robb.

“Theon, get Y/n out” Robb gently pushed Y/n backwards as he stood his ground.

Theon threw Y/n over his shoulder, “Come on” Y/n kicked and punched him as he carried her out.. “No! I won’t let him die again!”

“Jorey, take Queen Y/n to the gates. I’ll get Lady Sansa before Robb is done” Theon said as Jorey grabbed Y/n in his arms.

Robb came out of the Keep with something in his grasp, he had a smirk on his face. A dark one at that. He got closer and threw the heads at his men. Y/n and Sansa looked, it was King Jofferys, Tywin, Ceresi’s.

Y/n jumped in his arms, “How are you alive? I watched you die” Y/n cried on his shoulder.

“Shhh! It’s okay I’ll explain later. Are you hurt? Did he touch you?” Robb hugged me tight

“No I’m not hurt. What about my family?” Y/n asked.

“They’re packing for Highgarden. You can go with them if you want. It’s home for you” Robb snuzzled in her hair

“No, I want you. I’m not losing you again i swear it, my love” Y/n said

“Let’s go home then my Queen” Robb sat her down as he went to hug Sansa.

A few years later, Robb made it back to Winterfell and was still King in the north. The north was an independent kingdom, Robb wasn’t going to bend the knee to anyone as long as he was breathing. Y/n got pregnant not too long after arriving in Winterfell. Wasn’t a shock as the pair were locked in their chambers for a week with each other. 9 moons later, Y/n gave birth to a curly haired auburn boy. Cregan II Stark, a remake of his father but his mothers smile. The perfect heir, perfect little son, a product of a loving marriage. Y/n was actually pregnant again, she wants it to be a girl this time, her mini me. They were happy as a family and that’s all that mattered to them.

#robb stark #robb stark x y/n #Robb stark x reader #got fanfiction #robb stark imagine #robb stark x Tyrell!reader

[luna-writes-stuff]

What types my favourite Game Of Thrones characters would fall for

Includes Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Jon Snow, Oberyn Martell, Margaery Tyrell, Brienne Of Tarth, Daenerys Targaryen, and Tormund Giantsbane

————————————————————————

Robb Stark:

Robin Stark is 100% the person to fall for personality rather than looks. And something he has always admired, is someone with a creative mind. In the North, there is a lot of pessimism and realism. There isn’t much room for glee, daydreaming and imagination. So when he first meets you in one of the garden, writing away in your own notebook filled with words of your own worlds and thoughts, he is intrigued. Of course, you are adamant about talking about your work, let alone show it. But Robb is patient. He spends every single day talking to you, entertaining you and even accompanying you on walks. This man is completely gone for you. So, when you ultimately decide to give him a sneak peek, his entire face lights up. And your writing? It’s insane. He needs a library filled with your books right now. He is constantly asking about new ideas, even offering some, though they’re usually a tad bit….dark. But he tries! Will absolutely brag about it to others. He knows you don’t like to show everyone, but he will definitely let others know that his significant other can write. Don’t ever shut up about your ideas and prompts. This man wants to hear all of them. Every single one, even the late night cold sweat dream ones.

——

Sansa Stark:

Sansa can be rough around the edges. And who is to blame her after all she’s been dragged through? She needs someone who will look at things the kinder way, yet be decisive. Someone who can make interest out of the best of their heart. Sansa deals with issues from a neutral perspective, unless it is something close to her. But she can use a compassionate look at things. Then, all the same, she needs a supporting shoulder constantly. Someone who is able to slightly alter her decisions, but still let her do the main thing. If she wishes to have someone punished, they will. But all in good due. When the sun sets, she can let her guard down and rant about all the issues on her mind. She needs a confidential person for that, and who better than you? A comforting hand, a loving embrace, a gentle kiss. A good nice rest in the arms of those she loves most.

——

Jon Snow:

Jon has humour. He does. It’s hidden, but he does. And we saw how he was with Ygritte. Make him laugh in any way, and his heart can - and will - skip a beat. Whether it is because you are clumsy, childish, mischievous, or simply hilarious. He adores you. Something like you in the North is rare, and he plans on treasuring it for as long as he can. And when there is a day you won’t be laughing or trying to make others laugh, he grows concerned so quickly. It’s all fun and jokes until you stop laughing. All over you, constantly. Hiding you under his robe, standing in front of you the entire time, shooting you reassuring glances and smiles, reaching for your arm often to check if you’re still there. He does it. It’s those little gestures that grow so endearing, that you cannot help but smile at him. And that’s honestly all he needs.

——

Oberyn Martell:

Give him a charismatic partner. Someone who teases him back twice as hard, returns his pick up lines and messes with him from time to time. Play around with him and tug on his heart strings just a little too tight. He loves it. Playful smiles, far-off winking, stares at each other from the other side of the room. He was taken with you when your eyes first met his. He immediately knew there was this something about you. He’ll introduce you to others constantly, even if you are not around. You don’t know he does this, but he is so enamoured with you, he wants to announce it to everyone, even though that might not always be as clever. You’re being under protection the entire time, even from a distance. He has to make sure you are safe, constantly. If something were to happen to you, he’d never forgive himself.

——

Margaery Tyrell:

Margaery is a very artistic person. She grow up with artists all around her, and though she is somewhat skilled herself, this doesn’t mean she doesn’t admire the others. You’d have met in her home castle, working on one of your pieces when she simply walks in. Initially, she had the rooms mixed up, but she remained once she found your projects. She was a princess: you couldn’t tell her to get out. Of a room. Of a palace. Which her family owns. She starts taking immediately, apologising for entering the wrong room, but then moving on to your works decorating the walls. It is a whole different technique than she is used to, and it is somewhat entrancing. She’ll ask for inspiration, motivation and all those things, genuinely curious about your manner of working. From that day, she shows up twice a day, once with lunch, once without anything. Those talks made her fall for you at first; not your art, not your looks - though that was a win -, but you passion about your hobbies and career. And seeing you so motivated about her, awes her so much.

——

Brienne Of Tarth:

BIG STRONG WOMAN GOES WHOOSH. But when big strong woman sees compassionate and kind significant other, she grows all soft. She’ll do anything to grab your attention, though she will be hesitant at first. She has dealed with a lot of prejudice and harmful words throughout her life, and she fears you will reject her. Deep down, she knows you wouldn’t. You couldn’t even harm a fly. But she’s insecure. Yet, the second you choose to talk to her after seeing her countless attempts, she freezes completely. You’re actually talking to her? Thoughts everywhere. No words whatsoever. You observe her when she’s training, stay by her side when she is travelling, and offer to clean her wounds after fights. And it’s so intimate and endearing, and Brienne grows so flustered of it every single time. There will never be a day she wouldn’t. Big strong woman turns into mush.

——

Daenerys Targaryen:

Daenerys is definitely the person who is interested in all kinds of cultures and arts. And what better way to introduce those to her than to write music about it? You’d accompany her on her journey to Westeros, offering entertainment and music on the ships and walks. Whether you can sing or play an instrument, it doesn’t matter to her. But when she first met you on that square, trying to earn a little bit of money for your family, she immediately offered shelter and food. And ever since, you have been with her. You’ll be sitting on your bed, creating your own musical piece, and she’ll simply join you, her hand resting on your lap as a silent encouragement, and - if possible - her head on your shoulder, staring out of the windows in simple bliss. After everything she’s been through and is going through, you are her rock; her one place she can be safe and let go for a short moment.

——

Tormund Giantsbane:

Ironically enough, I’d think he’d go really well with someone incredibly stubborn. Someone who is set to do things their own way and will do anything to get it. He falls head over heels for looks primarily, but the confidence you radiate in your speech and actions actually stuns him. You go against him or Jon? He isn’t insulted. Kind of turned on, which he wouldn’t admit to you. Jon knows all about it though. But you can, weirdly enough, intimidate him. You’re so sure of yourself, it makes him doubt himself. Surely you wouldn’t need someone like him? It is not that he gets insecure about it, not at all, he simply hesitates his attitude towards you. The last thing he wants is for you to grow pissed at him and never look at him again. He couldn’t live with that. Once you two do get together, it is like fire and fire. Usually, that would be a bad thing, but your playful banter, teasing looks and general breathtaking combination is something to actually die for.

#christmas week with luna 2022 #got #game of thrones #Robb stark #robb stark x reader #jon snow #jon snow x reader #Sansa stark #sansa stark x reader #margaery tyrell #margaery tyrell x reader #Tormund Giantsbane #tormund giantsbane x reader #Oberyn Martell #oberyn martel x reader #brienne of Tarth #brienne of tarth x reader #daenerys targaryen #Daenerys Targaryen x reader #daenerys x reader

[howyouloveyourdragon]

threesome with margaery and robb please please i BEG

Taking Charge

pairing: margaery tyrell x reader x robb stark alternate universe: Margaery allies with Stark instead of Lannister, Robb survives (no necrophilia here thank you babes) pronouns: she/her anatomy: afab warnings: power dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, brief discussion of trauma (the red wedding) kinks & positions: threesome, dom/sub dynamics, brat taming, light bdsm, being gagged, oral (reader receiving), riding, masturbation, face riding, orgasm denial, fingering dividers by: saradika wordcount: 3,388

A/N: only the best for you ma'am, you told me i could go feral and i always deliver >:) i really hope you enjoy this bby! ♡ also margaery lowkey acts as a medieval marriage counsellor but we'll touch on that later ☠️

Margaery Tyrell is beautiful. You know it. Your husband knows it and the gaggle of raucous men know it as she flits her eyes over Robb. Her lips move but you are too entranced to doubt her words. You hear Robb gulp beside you and your own breath hitches as her shoulders roll back, a lithe hand exposes her neck by sweeping her hair behind her. She smirks as she curtsies--slow and deep. "Thank you, your grace for understanding my position." "Of course." Robb's voice utters but you can hear a familiar gruffness. He glances at two of his men as he gestures for two of them to lead her to a spare tent. You let a gentle hand rest on his forearm. "You need not," You tell the men, ignoring when your husband snaps his sights back to you. You smile pleasingly at Margaery. "We will find somewhere together, it has been a long time since I entertained guests." She returns your grin with the hint of surprise in her crystal eyes. The flicker across your form and her parted lips close. "Perhaps I should be entertaining you, my Queen." You feel as Robb tenses and squeeze gently. You merely hum to Margaery and begin to glide toward her but your husband snatches your arm quickly and tugs you back. His eyes stare deeply into yours as he guides a hand to cup your face, an intensity as he draws closer--prolonging each movement. He connects your lips effortlessly and drinks in the gentle gasp when his tongue treads along the seam of them. Your eyes flutter like the flap of a butterfly's wings until they shut closed. His fingers twist the hair at the back of your head and tugs just enough to let him drink in your soft whine. You don't have the chance to see as Robb's sights turn hard and warning as they lock with Margaery's. Her smirk only deepens.

Eventually you gather the inner strength to pull away with a wet smack and stumble back. As your eyelids slip open his darkening stare greets you, a quick tilt of his head permitting you to step away. His gaze stays locked on you as you leave, linking your arm with the new woman's. "He is rather protective of you." She notes as you walk throughout the camp. You hum in agreement and nod softly. "There was an incident a number of moons ago where he was supposed to marry one of the Frey daughters, we supplemented another man in his place but..." You pause, discomfort crossing your skin like a spider's thick web. Margaerys collects your free hand in the bed of her own hand and squeezes gently. It gives you the courage to continue. "The matter was not resolved. There was bloodshed and we lost a babe but we escaped and so..." Margaery steps in front of you, now holding both your hands. Your breath stutters but still you paint a sad smile across your lips. "I understand." She assures with a gentle smile. She wishes to reassure you. Two of her fingers rise to lift your chin to encourage you looking up into her eyes. "I would feel the same if I had a petal such as yourself. I would take my vows of protection over you just as carefully. And I would take those vows." Her voice purrs like a kitten curled in your lap, like it is a soft tail wrapping itself around your forearm instead of her hand. 

The days pass with your forms close at every turn and under your husband’s watchful eye. Your nightly activities increase, a deeper need clawing up Robb’s chest. Tonight, you writhe in the sheets with Robb's pants fanning over your neck as his fingers bury deep within your core. He moans at the wet stickiness, letting it drip down his hand. You feel it growing–the wave about to crash–swirling deeper and deeper. It’s like a whirlpool that you are begging to let swallow you down. You want it, you need it and then–Then Robb retracts stops. “Say it,” His unusually gruff voice murmurs in your ear, ignoring your flailing legs. You try to grind back and forth but his spare hand pushes your hips down in warning. He leans up to your ear. “Say it.” He demands once more, rougher. “I love you.” You concede easily, gentle whimpers pouring out. His fingers roll fluidly again and the waves return. “Again.” “I love you.” The water spins you, an overwhelming heat distorts your sight. “Again.” “I love you.” And finally he lets the dam break inside you. Your heat gushes over his hand. His mouth drops down onto yours with a resounding kiss. His lips move sloppily but demandingly. He grumbles as he turns to lay his back on the bed and sling and arm around your own. “So good for me.” He rumbles. “My best girl, hm?” You mumble in approval while he moves to kiss your cheek before standing. Your whines return as he begins to leave you, presumably to visit the tent of your living quarters. Not for the first time you are grateful your husband is given special privileges but detest the sight of his back. He chuckles low. “A moment, my love.” He leaves, presumably to find a cloth and water. Your slick glistens down your rear. 

Minutes pass, possibly twenty, possibly thirty but either way you are unsatisfied with your missing husband. You rise on shaky legs, bare all except a silk robe. Your feet lead you to the connecting tent, surprised at the closed sheets of it. Your breath hitches as you step toward the dark tent, your fingers about to part the sheets but two familiar voices interrupt the movement. “I heard you of course…” A Tyrell voice tuts and your eyes go wide. Surely she does not mean… “Denying your wife? I thought Starks were honourable.” A deep blush treads up your face with the wisps of wind. You shiver as the cold air creeps through your dress, hardening the pebbles beneath. You peek through the curtain and instantly clasp a hand over your mouth at the sight of your husband stiffened, the woman opposite trailing her fingers up his tunic. He snatches her wrist quickly and squeezes it harshly. You can hear her breath hitch. “What are you doing, Lady Tyrell?” Robb snarls to which she merely chuckles. She steps onto her tiptoes and leans into his ear. “I am going to teach you how to please your wife, how to please your Queen, how to…worship her.” She purrs the words like a playful kitten. His grip loosens enough for the highborn lady to grow bold and raise her other hand to his shoulder. He is silent as his eyes track her palm. It is almost soothing, the circles she rubs against the loose fabric. The wolf King clears his throat before he speaks. “How?” You would pity his vulnerable tone if it didn’t charge the throb of your pearl, if the pebbles of your breasts were not growing more sensitive with every word that flowed through your ears.

You almost gasp when you see her unravel two snakes of rope from beneath her skirt, letting it feed through her fingers as she pushes Robb down into a wooden chair though you are both aware it could not truly hold him unless he demanded his own body to still. Her hands glide down his arms, thick with muscle, her nails play with the top threads of his linen undershirt. The rose unlaces the ties of his shirt slowly, torturing. Your eyes hook their gaze to her fingers, mouth going dry at their graceful movements. She is a lot more experienced than she let on but it does not upset you...in fact it rather does the opposite, your pearl beginning to throb again. He watches her, eyes tracking her every motion. “Well first you are going to have to calm yourself. I would hate for her to join us too early, before we even have you prepared for her. You cannot see her face but you can imagine her serene smile. Her hands glide across his chest and push him down into a waiting chair. The bridge of rope between her hands follows down to slither between his legs. He grunts at the contact, his member still heavy from the activities before. He bites his lip. Margaery chuckles as she sinks to her knees and begins to bind his forearm to the wooden chair. “Do not worry, my King, we will fix that in a moment.” Your eyes widen and drink in the sight, watching as she binds his other arm as well. You gulp as she straddles his lap.

“Oh such a good boy…” Margaery coos, running her hand into the northerner’s hair and then gripping the curls tight. Having a King bound to a chair before you–inside a tent or not–is a rather quick way to encourage your confidence. For it to drip through your veins and pump the blood raucously. She smirks down at him as he groans. His eyes are as fierce as the wolf he is. “I almost feel guilty for playing with you but if you want to be a King, you will have to earn that right.” She licks her lips and dips a hand between her breasts. The King gasps, matching you simultaneously but then she pulls out a grey fabric and brings it to hover before his mouth. His eyes snap up to hers. “You must trust my practice, King Stark.” He growls but begrudgingly parts his lips enough to bare his wolfish teeth. Her giggling attracts your ears as she slides the gag in his mouth. She raises a single hand in the air and beckons you close. You freeze. “Come, my Queen.” Her free hand runs along his jaw then hardens it, pulling him closer with an intensity you didn’t expect. “He’s pretty isn’t he, dearest?” You merely nod, looking at your husband as the Tyrell tugs at him. Her eyes flit over to you as she smirks. “This is not the first time you have both played this game, is it?” Her grin deepens when your reluctant nod pleases her. Robb bites his lip, trying to hold back the moan. “I was wondering why you do not mind me playing with him but now I see…You enjoy it. Seeing someone else in power for once, taking him…” She slowly tilts her head. “Would you like to tame him? The big bad wolf? You will need to find your voice, pet.” A tentative step forward is all she needs to see to broaden her wicked grin. She slaps Robb’s cheek sharply and climbs off his lap. “There’s a smart girl.” Her hands reach you while her face squeals in girlish delight—a sight you are not used to. 

“We are going to have so much fun.” She purrs and releases one of your hands to stroke her index along a lock of your hair. Her eyes darken with a sea of lust pushing desperately against a restraining barrier. She brushes back your hair and leans closer until her breath is fanning across your lips. “And so we have acquired another player.” The sea crashes—taking your kiss with it—as she presses her lips to yours and drowns in it. Margaery Tyrell is a woman of many talents and one of those talents is knowing exactly what she wants but more importantly how to get it. A gasp slips from your mouth to hers as her fingers trail up your thigh. She slowly lowers herself until she has to pan her head to look at you. Her eyes stay misty. “I’ve always wanted to taste a Queen.” With the flick of her tongue, she pushes you back to lie on the table and spreads your legs with ease, rustling the wretched grey fabric. “Always so modest.” She tuts as she dives her face beneath and skips her tongue along your inner thigh. A rumble burns at your throat, your eyes squeeze as tight as your fists in anticipation. “So sweet,” Margaery commends before darting her muscle across your hidden pearl, wetting the fabric above. “Yes, I think I would like to join you on that throne of yours, we are going to have a lot of fun, sweet blossom.” Her hands turn commanding. “Oh such a good boy…” 

“We are going to have so much fun.” She purrs and releases one of your hands to stroke her index along a lock of your hair. Her eyes darken with a sea of lust pushing desperately against a restraining barrier. She brushes back your hair and leans closer until her breath is fanning across your lips. “And so we have acquired another player.” The sea crashes—taking your kiss with it—as she presses her lips to yours and drowns in it. Margaery Tyrell is a woman of many talents and one of those talents is knowing exactly what she wants but more importantly how to get it. A gasp slips from your mouth to hers as her fingers trail up your thigh. She slowly lowers herself until she has to pan her head to look at you. Her eyes stay misty. “I’ve always wanted to taste a Queen.” With the flick of her tongue, she pushes you back to lie on the table and spreads your legs with ease, rustling the wretched grey fabric of your robe. “Always so modest, hm? Don’t worry, we’ll fix that.” She tuts as she dives her face beneath and skips her tongue along your inner thigh. 

A rumble burns at your throat, your eyes squeeze as tight as your fists in anticipation. “So sweet,” Margaery commends before darting her muscle across your hidden pearl, wetting the fabric above. “Yes, I think I would like to join you on that throne of yours, we are going to have a lot of fun, sweet blossom.” Her hands turn demanding, her nails sinking into your thighs. A yelp rebounds from your lips in time with a distant growl. You sit upright on shaky elbows to let your heavy-lidded eyes gaze upon your needy husband, a dribble of saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth, gag wet. Perhaps fabric is not a desired material. She rolls an ‘r’ along your bud, delighting in your sharp intake of breath. Robb rumbles once more. Margaery sighs. “You can either behave or wait even longer. I will bring your wife to her peak once more for every sound that comes from your lips but you will receive nothing until you have learned to prioritise your beloved.” Her voice is muffled but resounding. She commands him as well as she would command a disobedient mutt. Her tongue licks up your residue. “If you were my wife, I would drink from you every waking moment and if I were your King, I would keep my face tucked between your thighs. Escaping my lips would be your hardest battle.” Margaery moans. Robb growls at the rose’s words but the soothing strokes of her tongue please you. 

She pulls back, smirking at the whines that drip from your mouth. “And so needy too.” She chuckles as she pulls away, her curls tickling up your thigh. You jump in sensitivity but it all makes her coo like caressing a flightless bird. “Aw, sweet darling. Need us to take care of you, huh? Is he not taking care of you? Poor thing…We’ll just have to take care of you, ourselves.” A deep growl permeates from your husband, his arms straining against his ties but as your eyes linger on his form, his cock looks aching as it strains through his trousers, the tip of it wetting the fabric. The poor man must be absolutely throbbing and yet that doesn’t make you pity him, it only entices you. Margaery raises a finger to rub pressured circles on your bud. She chuckles when you hiss and your elbows collapse you to lie back on the table again. The image of your husband’s hungry face lingers in your mind but it’s Margaery’s hair that you move to grasp between your fingers. Your hips grind as her tongue returns to lap at you. “That’s it,” You encourage, delighting in the wet noise.And then it comes again, the sensitivity crashing over your cunt. Your eyes shut tight and your face scrunches up as a long pitiful whine pushes past your lips. The whimper of the Stark King only sends another wave to flow onto Margaery’s tongue who doesn’t lessen her pace until she can swallow down every drop. 

Your body falls imp, sprawled out. Your legs tremble as they hang off the side of the table but finally Margaery’s greed softens and she pulls back. Your glistening wetness still coats her lips as they grin up at you. Her hands slither up your body, starting at your thighs until they settle on your waist. She squeezes gently before spreading them. You hiss briefly but are quickly hushed when she kisses up your neck in soothing patterns. “I will not mark you yet.” She whispers in purring vibration. “But if you ever tire of wolves, I will be but a moment away.” She kisses the space behind your ear. A tempting little rose she is as she pulls away, cupping your hands as she tugs you to stand on your shaky legs. She tuts. “So used today, don’t worry, it’s your turn.” The scent of her hair wafts thickly up your nose, clouding your other senses as she pulls you, one arm now around your waist. When you finally look up from the floor, you see Robb’s piercing eyes waiting for you with the patience of a wild boar. She slowly winds your legs so you can straddle your husband who quickly nuzzles against your neck. Margaery delights as she wraps around you from behind, kissing up your opposing shoulder as her hands help yours to slip down Robb’s smallclothes. However, it is you who raises your fingers to tear open the offending fabric on your husband’s chest and who rips the gag away to replace it with your lips. He grunts and ruts his hips. His member throbs, the top purple and preening for attention. You can almost feel it begging. Margaery’s warm palms roll your hips, grinding you against it but you do not complain. His lips are wet with saliva and sweat but it doesn’t deter you, letting the salt flit across your tongue. 

Margaery praises you as you gather the strength to slide onto his length, gasping out as it fills you for the first time in a week. He groans loudly, eyes already rolling back, it’s the final straw for him to snap off the ropes and capture your hips while you sink onto him. When you finally drop onto him, your arms hook around his neck. “Be good for me, that’s it,” You encourage as he whimpers like a pup. Margaery beams with pride as she brings her fingers to roll your nipples back and forth. “Tell her how much you want it.” Margaery prompts, voice growing gravelled. “That you want her, that you want to fill that sweet little pussy, hm?” Robb nods, and thrusts hard into you, a yelp streaming from your lips. “I want you.” He moans, hot breath panting as his grip tightens. “Want you more than I’ve wanted anything. Iw ould give up my crown and my line for you.” A high pitched noise escapes you as your hips rock faster back and forth. “Want to keep you full of me. You want that? You want me to keep you full?” Your nods are all he needs to finally let loose and spill, you tighten as Margaery flicks the pebbles of your breasts. You throw your head back but the rose of Highgarden is quick to rake one hand into your hair and tug you to face her. “That’s right, my queen. Release for us.” And you do, your womanhood spasming as a thick cream rings around your husband’s who sighs breathily and kisses up your neck. A line of wetness slides up as your companion chuckles low. 

General Taglist: (if your name is in italics and bold, that means i couldn't tag you, you will need to check your settings | to be added there you can creep into my asks) @hopelesswritergall @its-actually-minicika

Margaery Taglist: (if your name is in italics and bold, that means i couldn't tag you, you will need to check your settings | to be added there is a link attached to wear you can comment or you can step into my asks ♡)

Robb Taglist: (if your name is in italics and bold, that means i couldn't tag you, you will need to check your settings | to be added there is a link attached to wear you can comment or you can step into my asks ♡)

#margaery x reader #margaery tyrell x reader #margaery tyrell smut #margaery tyrell x fem!reader #margaery tyrell x fem!reader smut #margaery tyrell x reader smut #margaery smut #asoiaf fic #margaery tyrell x reader x robb stark #margaery x reader x robb smut #robb stark x you #margaery tyrell x you #margaery tyrell x yn #robb stark x y/n #robb stark x reader #robb stark smut #robb stark fanfic #robb stark imagine #robb stark x reader x margaery tyrell #robb stark x reader x margaery tyrell smut #asoiaf smut #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones smut

[dipperscavern]

idk if you would write but i would love to see in ur style a tyrell!reader x robb. imagine being the winter rose? omg living the biggest dream by being a beauty of the seven realms, having tales of ur beauty passed on, and then being betrothed to robb as a mean of house tyrell to guarantee their safety, but still, theres no northern or southern who can resist the tyrell beauty and robb is one of them

nana.. this ask did things to me. i love this idea smsmsm & thank u for sending it in !!

tyrell beauty was never anything that could be denied — by friend or by foe.

you & your twin sister, margaery, were the greatest testimonies to that. while margaery was no doubt beautiful, tales of your beauty had spread throughout the seven kingdoms. singers, poets, servants & kings alike had all heard and contributed to the spread of the tale of the tyrell rose — not only beautiful in physical aspects, but a gorgeous personality to match.

you & margaerys older brother, loras, was also rumored for his looks. safe to say, you three were widely known.. the beauties of house tyrell.

even the north, cold and harsh as it was, was not exempt from hearing the tales of you & your siblings beauty. jokes and speculations had long passed around winterfell, only increasing tenfold when hearing about house tyrell’s rumored interest in forming an allegiance with the north. when bran, rickon, & arya stepped into the castle, covered in dirt & almost soaking wet from that days ministrations, jory only sighed seeing them, ushering them to baths with a mutter of-

“the beauties of winterfell…”

robb only laughed at the teases he heard about you & your siblings, but sometimes found his thoughts wandering to you. his mind often drifting to think about the tyrell rose, absurd childlike questions, that he should’ve pushed away as quickly as they entered his mind. do the tales do your beauty justice? what are you like in person? are you warm? would you like him? what would you think of the north?

he focused on training, doing as he was told & preparing to become lord of winterfell one day, although he couldn’t stop the fleeting thoughts about you that arose every once in a while. a child’s dream, he thought.

so you can imagine his surprise when his father & mother sat him down, telling him of the alliance house tyrell wanted to make with house stark..

through marriage.

robb felt like he was dreaming. the beauty of the seven kingdoms, betrothed to him? he could barely keep the smile off his face, wanting to not only improve stature to his house, but do his duty as a husband. excitement pooled in his gut, as theon clasped his hands on robb’s shoulders at dinner, congratulating him. theon’s hands waved in the air, saying something about-

“the beauty and the beast..”

any other night he would’ve gotten a shove to the ground, but robb only threw him a playful smile. even theon’s relentless teasing couldn’t ruin this for him. if he was to be lord of winterfell one day, he’d need a strong woman by his side — he dreamed of a relationship like his mother and fathers, and he prayed in the godswood to the old gods that night, that they would guide your union as man and wife.

in the days leading up to your arrival at winterfell, countless preparations were made. the tyrell host was large, and all of the starks had done their parts to prepare to receive it. you were to stay in winterfell for a week before the wedding, and your family would leave shortly after. you had handmaidens and a few select soldiers to stay with you at winterfell, and you could visit high garden anytime you wanted in the near future. you asked your grandmother if she would visit you in winterfell again after the wedding, but she only put a hand over your own & said it would take the Father himself to drag her back to that “frozen wasteland”.

the day you arrive, robb thinks he’s might jump out of his skin, he’s so nervous. still, he puts on a brave face for his & his families sake, wanting to be everything you need and more.

you, margaery, and the queen of thornes are riding in the wheelhouse, while ser loras is in front of it, mounted on a white mare. his armor glints in the sunlight, doing wonders to illuminate his face. he’s handsome, robb can admit, and that only makes his curiosity increase about you & your sister. & once you both step out of the wheelhouse, robb feels his heart skip as many beats as it can without killing him.

a few of your cousins step out first, giggly as they curtsy to the starks and stand respectively to the side. margaery is next, gorgeous auburn hair & a button nose, a flattering dress with the tyrell colors proudly on display, and a sweet smile to accompany it all. she curtsy’s as well, standing more in front of the wheelhouse, as loras dismounts and moves to stand next to her.

when you step out of the wheelhouse, robb’s breath hitches. his body forgets every single instinct he’s ever had, & he has to remind himself to breathe, as to not kill himself. you’re beautiful. stunning. a sight for sore eyes. he doesn’t think there’s any word in the common tongue that can be used to describe your beauty without downplaying it. it seems like nobody can tear their eyes off of you, your aura doing wonders to brighten the damp atmosphere.

you curtsy to them all, along with a smile he wishes would never leave your face. robb can’t tear his eyes from you, even when you move to offer your hand to the queen of thornes as she steps out. you meet robb’s gaze in the moment everyones attention is not on you. the corner of his mouth tilts up in a smirk as he winks at you. you only tilt your head, brows lightly furrowing as you smile at him. your gaze falls to the floor as blush rises to your cheeks, retracting your hand from your grandmothers and smoothing out your gown.

pleasantries are exchanged, you and robb stealing glances to each other every so often. lady olenna & a few of your cousins go with ned stark & lady catelyn, moving to discuss the wedding, among other things. you take robb’s arm as he escorts you, margaery, and loras to where you’ll be staying at. robb drinks in every moment with you.

you’re gorgeous, soft, & warm. you have a kind heart, a love for the arts and children, and you’re very kind. your shy nature bubbles away as you grow more comfortable in each others presence.

that night, a great feast is held. everyone of the starklings is made to be in attendance, and robb prays that arya can keep her withering resolve just a little bit longer. you’re sat beside him, softly laughing at a remark ned had made. robb’s heart warms at the sight of you & his father getting along, but is quickly forgotten when he sees arya dash away & out of the hall. guards are sent after her, and robb bites back a smile at her daring antics.

he’s snapped out of his thoughts as your hand clasps his bicep, his head turns towards you as you lean into speak in his ear.

“forgive me, i must be excused. i’ll return shortly.” you say, a reassuring smile making its way onto your face as you get up. robb only nods, sighing in an attempt to soothe his frayed nerves.

it’s a few minutes later when the queen of thornes sits next to him, striking up light conversation. judging his character, no doubt. at the end of it she nods her head in approval, asking him to please find her granddaughter — wherever she’s run off to. robb stands up with an-

“of course, my lady.”

moving to follow the direction you went in. it takes him outside, and he looks around, before his gaze settles on you & a small form behind you, a guard approaching in front of you. robb was lucky to be in earshot of you.

“pardon, my lady, we’re looking for arya underfoot, ned starks daughter. ‘bout yay high, brown of hair. have you seen ‘er ‘round?”

you were stood beside a pillar, one arm behind your back as you discreetly pressed arya further behind you. one shift of your form & arya would be revealed, dragged back to the festivities she had just escaped from. robb watched you from afar, careful not to give away your position — but close enough to hear & see your response. curiosity spread through him as he and the guard both awaited your answer.

your brows furrowed in faux confusion, looking at the guard with a soft expression.

“i must confess, i haven’t seen her. brown of hair, you said?”

the guard swallowed, nodding as he eyed you up & down. you smiled sweetly at him.

“i will be sure to keep an eye out, ser…?”

you slightly raised your brows, and the guard quickly gave you his name. you repeated it to him, and the guard nodded, smiling.

“would you be so kind to escort me back to the festivities? a castle like this.. it’s so easy to get lost.”

the guard quickly agreed, not being able to resist you, & robb is enamored, having witnessed the tyrell charm firsthand. what happens next seals the deal for robb.

as you move to take the guards arm, you spot loras patrolling, his path sending him to pass on the other side of the pillar that you’re at. the eye contact between you both is minimal, and robb almost misses your eyes slightly widen & the small nod of his head. with one swift move, you’re grasping the guards bicep & using your other hand to gently push arya to your older brother, as he outstretches his hand just enough for arya to get the hint. as you walk off, loras has one hand on aryas shoulder, ushering her off with a wink — & robb watches the smile grow on aryas face as she slips away.

yeah, he thinks. you’re perfect.

his winter rose.

sorry if this was too long or not what you were envisioning, but i had sm fun writing this !! tyrell supremacy

#game of thrones #asoiaf #robb stark #robb stark x reader #robb stark imagine #robb stark prompt #robb stark x tyrell reader #also #i said loras was on patrol because it just made sense to me idk 😞 #perhaps don’t flame me chat #anyways i need his children #dippys asks #goodnight chat

[tinfairies]

Okay, I want a list of characters in your opinion from loudest to quietest during sex 💖

Loud, and shameless: Aegon, Margaery, Tyrion, Theon

Loud and embarrassed: Podrick, Jon, Sansa, Helaena

Moans, but isn't crazy about it: Daenerys, Rhaenyra, Robb, Jace, Alicent

Sighs, and groans: Aemond, Ramsey, Daemon

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd imagine #aegon targaryen #house of the dragon imagine #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen ii #alicent hightower #helaena targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #daenerys targaryen #margaery tyrell #sansa stark #robb stark #jon snow #theon greyjoy #ramsey bolton #tyrion lannister #podrick payne

[axelsagewrites]

For the sake of this not being 20 options long I'm posting a Dilf version with all the dads/anyone who looks over the age of 25 aka Jamie, Ned, Sandor etc etc

Vote for your Dilf here

#Jon snow x reader #Robb stark x reader #Bran stark x reader #Joffrey lannister x reader #Ramsay Bolton x reader #Lorrance Tyrell x reader #Viserys Targaryen x reader #Gendry baratheon x reader #Gendry waters x reader #Podrick payne x reader #Game of thrones #Game of thrones poll #Got #Got poll

[raspberryfingers]

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 9)

Tywin & reader on their way to have fantastic dialogue with a Stark sibling😁🫶

Ok yeah so this chapter is for plot development outside of Tywin and reader because I simply did not want to kill Robb Stark off (and also because it would cause a lot of political complications for Tywin and reader later on, trust me I’ve laid in bed straining my brain over it for way too many nights)

So basically, Tywin isn’t in this chapter but YALL SHOULD STILL READ cuz 1. It’s shorter than usual, but 2. Because there’s some mentions of Tywin sprinkled in that definitely make me giggle to myself

Either way hopefully the dialogue in this chapter is good enough to make up for the lack of Tywin🫶

—————

To my great relief, the wedding feast and everything afterwards had gone smoothly. Of course, Loras had cried in my arms the next morning, but explained that he’d been able to get through it. It seemed that both he and Sansa were a bit nervous and awkward, but everything had been fine.

For Sansa Stark, things were more than fine now. The three of us, accompanied by Ser Elias and a few other guards, were only a few miles away from Robb Stark’s camp.

“Lady (Y/N)… what if- what if I can’t convince him?” Sansa asked nervously, riding beside Loras and I.

“Then nothing. We’re here to make our best effort, and if it doesn’t work then at least we tried,” I explained, knowing she was afraid. Success would’ve been an expectation had she been with Cersei and Joffrey.

“Are you excited to see your brother, Sansa?” Loras asked with a smile. Her face lit up, and yet still there was a hesitance. She must’ve felt that letting herself be happy prematurely would let her down.

“I- I am. It’s been more than a year since I’ve seen any of my family. Well, not that you two aren’t family, you are now, but-“

I laughed softly at how eager to please Sansa was.

“I know, sweet girl. It’s different, you don’t have to pretend. You’ve been stuck in Kings Landing since your father died, I can’t imagine. After that, I’d be quite happy to see my family too,” I told her, to which she nodded.

“And Sansa, if all goes well and your brother agrees to our plan, you and Loras will go back to Winterfell with him,” I revealed, watching her eyebrows raise in utter surprise.

“Truly?”

“Yes, my dear, truly.”

She merely smiled and looked over at Loras, who smiled at her in return.

“Lady (Y/N), up ahead,” Ser Elias alerted. Our group halted, and over the hill we could see the extent of Robb Stark’s army.

Gods, it was smaller than I’d ever imagined.

I turned around and motioned for the guards with us to raise the Tyrell flag higher, then clicked and spurred my horse.

As we rode into the camp, we were instantly stopped.

“Ay, who are you lot?” One soldier questioned. I merely smiled.

“My name is (Y/N) Tyrell, and that is my brother Loras Tyrell. Please inform Robb Stark that we have his sister Sansa with us, and that we wish to negotiate peace,” I announced, watching his and a few other jaws drop in utter shock. It did not take long for him to run, nor did it take long for Robb Stark to arrive.

My group had dismounted, and we watched Robb arrive on his horse, going as fast as one could within such a crowded space. Right behind him was his mother.

When they set eyes on Sansa, and Sansa set eyes on them, they ran to each other.

“Sansa!”

“Robb, mother!”

The group embraced, tears falling and smiles emerging. I watched the scene warmly and hoped that this family would get to stay together. But, at the end of it, politics were politics.

Robb pulled back first, clearly curious as to why his sister had been brought back to him for—as far as he was concerned—no reason at all.

“Lady (Y/N) Tyrell, I presume,” he said as he approached me. I nodded and reached out my hand, giving him a firm shake.

“And my brother, Ser Loras,” I said, introducing the two. Robb shook his hand as well, and then looked back at me.

“Though I want to thank you for bringing my sister back, at least for now, I’m certain there’s a motive behind it,” he said frankly, voice even and calm.

“There is, though not a malicious one. I was hoping we might all talk in your tent, Lord Stark. You can take our weapons and search us first if you wish,” I offered, to which he nodded and looked over at two of his own guards.

Loras and I handed over everything we had, and then walked behind Lord Stark as he guided us to his tent. Sansa and Lady Stark followed as well, clearly talking and grateful to be together again.

Inside Robb Stark’s tent, he motioned for the guards to leave, and offered us seats.

“Thank you, my lord. Consider bringing in Sansa, she is part of this discussion as well,” I mentioned, watching as he stopped one of the guards and passed the message along.

“My men said you were here to discuss peace, is that true?” He asked, pouring two glasses of wine.

“It is, though I fear you’re not going to like it, simply due to pride more than anything,” I reasoned, to which he sighed and sat down.

Sansa joined us in the tent, and awkwardly took a seat next to Loras.

“And what is it that you propose?” He asked, hands coming together in front of his face with his arms propped up on the arms of his chair.

“I propose that you take your men and march back to Winterfell, along with your sister and my brother. If you do this, the Tyrells and the Lannisters will stand down and let this damned war call itself done,” I said, watching his eyebrows raise as he pondered what I’d offered.

“Essentially, you’re asking me to abandon my cause for no reason,” he said plainly, and I could tell the idea annoyed him.

“Not for no reason. You get to take your sister home,” I told him, crossing my legs and leaning back in my chair.

“My sister’s already with me, why would I care about your terms when I could easily have the two of you murdered right here and right now, before you could even think about taking her back?” He questioned.

“Oh Robb please don’t. They’re not like the Lannisters, Lady (Y/N) is a good woman, and Ser Loras is unbelievably kind,” Sansa pleaded, seemingly worried for the man she’d recently married.

“I won’t, Sansa, don’t worry about it. I’m simply wondering why their offer matters when it’s a possibility,” he told her, looking over at Loras and I as he said it.

“Because- because I’ve already agreed to their terms,” Sansa said softly. Robb instantly turned his gaze back to her, somewhat shocked.

“What?”

“Robb- your numbers- your numbers are low and even if you had me now, the Lannisters would crush you eventually. And when they did, you’d all die and I’d just be taken back to King's Landing anyways. And so, I’ve agreed to go to Highgarden should you deny Lady (Y/N),” she said softly, eyes pleading and hoping that her brother would do the right thing.

Robb only scowled and leaned back in his chair, considering my offer.

“As long as that boy king who took my fathers head is on the throne, I will never stop fighting. Especially because you still have Arya,” he said bitterly.

“No they don’t, Robb. Arya hasn’t been seen since father died. She escaped, and the Lannisters have been lying,” Sansa revealed, watching the surprise settle into his face.

We all sat in silence for a moment, broken my own sigh.

“Loras, Sansa, could the two of you please let me talk with Lord Stark on my own?” I requested, watching them nod and rise, quickly leaving the tent with their arms intertwined.

“Quite bold of you, making my sister leave like that,” he said.

“It’s not bold of me, it’s necessary and quite polite. Why make her sit there and suffer through a conversation she’s not involved in? I forced my own brother out too, because he’s of no real political use,” I said honestly, to which Lord Stark gave a soft smile.

“The nightshade of the garden. When I was younger, my brother Jon and I would stay up talking about you. Both of us had heard stories, made bets about who would marry you,” he admitted, laughing softly. I couldn’t help but smile.

“And here we are, you’re happily married with a child on the way, and Jon Snow is a member of the night's watch,” I said, to which he nodded.

“Even then, I’d heard you had quite the sharp tongue. I suppose I’m about to find out, aren’t I?” He reckoned, sipping the wine from his own cup.

“Well, it mostly depends on how much convincing you take. And I will apologize in advance if I appear to be rude, I don’t mean it. I’ve truly got quite a lot of respect for you, Lord Stark, but I fear I can get quite passionate when trying to convince others. I’ve raised my voice at Tywin Lannister quite a few times, too,” I mentioned, watching his eyebrow raise.

“Then you must at least be reasonable, I don’t know how else you’d get away with that,” he joked, making me smile.

“It’s truly a miracle, Lord Stark.”

We stared at each other for a few moments, and he set his cup down.

“Well, we better get on with it. I’m not going to bother explaining why I don’t want to retreat back to Winterfell, you already understand all the implications,” he said, crossing his arms and waiting for my response.

“I do understand, especially because I myself would be hesitant to do so. But the reality of it is, you need to ask yourself why you began to fight this war in the first place,” I began, plotting out what I was going to say right then and there. Of course, I already knew what I specifically had to say, but it was always something that needed to take shape as I spoke.

“I went to war for my father, I wasn’t going to see him put in chains.”

“Of course, and once he was dead, why did you continue? For revenge? Perhaps, but in all honesty, it was for your sisters, wasn’t it? Well, here we are, bringing you Sansa and admitting that Arya hasn’t been seen since Ned Stark was slaughtered.” I forced him to consider that his true motive for being at war was no longer a concern.

“Exactly, he was slaughtered by the Lannisters. If I make peace, that means I’ve allowed that,” he shot back, to which I nodded.

“Of course, I understand the implications. But the truth of it is, he was murdered by Joffrey, nobody else. Your sister pleaded for them to have mercy on Ned, and even Cersei was in favor of that. You had Jaime, after all. It was only Joffrey,” I revealed, knowing that though Cersei could be impractical, she knew what killing Ned Stark would result in.

“Even so, he’s sitting on the iron throne. How can I allow that?”

“You must. Otherwise your army will be destroyed, and so will you and your family. That’s not a threat, merely a fact, and it’s the reason that I’m here,” I explained, casually sipping from my cup.

“You’re here because you’re empathetic? Be realistic, Lady (Y/N).”

“I am being realistic, Lord Stark. If you need further proof, allow me to give it. Only a few weeks before your sister married my brother, Tywin Lannister asked for my advice on something, do you want to know what that was?” I began, setting my cup down and leaning forward to show just how serious I was.

“Lord Tywin had received a letter from Walder Frey, explaining exactly how he planned to marry his daughter to your uncle. He also explained that, with Lord Tywin’s help, he wished to have your mother, wife, and unborn child slaughtered in front of you. And of course, you would not leave with your life either,” I revealed, watching a horrible realization settle inside of him. It had just clicked in his head, and he looked as if he was going to be sick.

“I could have easily encouraged Lord Tywin to take that opportunity, to end the war without a single doubt. It certainly would’ve saved both of our houses quite a bit of money. But I didn’t. I did not want to see an entire family slaughtered that way, nor did I want the entire north to forever distrust our two houses. And so, to save the lives of both you and all those you love, and to hopefully restore at least a fragile peace to the seven kingdoms, I’m here. I’m here, Lord Stark, humbly asking you to do the right thing and go home. This is not guaranteed to work, in fact it takes away the one thing we had to bargain with before. But it’s the right thing to do, and as your fathers son, I hoped you would appreciate that.”

“I do appreciate that, Lady (Y/N). My family means more to me than anything else in this world, and you saved our lives. But how do I know that they’re safe once I’ve gone back to Winterfell? What if Joffrey decides he wants us gone?” He asked, licking his lips anxiously. I could tell he was still shaken by what I’d just revealed.

“Lord Tywin rules, not Joffrey. But either way, I know that Joffrey isn’t going to be king much longer. I’ve been made aware that someone has certain intentions to murder him, and I’ve said nothing. Perhaps that makes me dishonorable, but if I’m honest, removing a sick human like Joffrey from the earth improves the lives of others. To me, that is honor,” I reasoned, again watching his eyes go wide.

“You’ve certainly managed to shock me, Lady (Y/N), and deep down I know you’re right. I fear I’ve ignored counsel one too many times, perhaps if I hadn’t this wouldn’t be necessary. But, here we are. I want to accept your terms, I truly do, but what will my men think? I’ve led them for far too long, let their sons and fathers die in battle. How am I supposed to tell them we’re turning around and going home after all that?” He asked with a sigh, clearly feeling quite defeated. I placed my hands on the table, looking at him with the utmost honesty in my face.

“By being honest with them. They know just as well as you do that funds and men are low, they know the odds are practically zero. They’re not dumb, Lord Stark, but they’ve been holding on for you. Most of those men want to go home to their wives and children, and want to harvest their crops in time for winter. They want to do exactly what you do, and now that your sister is back, perhaps it’s time we let this be. Let the dead bury the dead, Lord Stark. Your father is gone, and soon Joffrey will be too.”

I watched Robb contemplate all that I’d said, looking over at the military table beside us and sighing.

“I want to do it, Lady (Y/N), I truly do, but it’s hard.”

“I know it is. But at the end of the day, consider what’s best for the men serving you if nothing else.”

He nodded and rubbed his forehead.

“You know, the rumors don’t do you justice,” he said randomly.

“Rumors?”

“About you being persuasive. I had not a clue it would be so intense,” he admitted, hand coming to the back of his neck. I smiled.

“I told Lord Tywin this once, that people often mistaken nightshade as an innocent berry. They only realize it’s poisonous once it’s too late.”

“You speak with Tywin Lannister quite a lot, don’t you?”

“I believe he respects me quite a lot. In some ways, I think I keep him from getting too bored,” I said with a grin. Robb simply gave a small laugh.

“Just as my wife does with me.”

—————

“Men!”

Lord Stark had gathered his entire army, and stood before them now to announce what we’d discussed. At least, I hoped he would.

“I stand before you today to announce something important. Some of you might like it, some of you might not, but you’d better hear it from me,” he began, swallowing and watching their faces closely.

“Lady (Y/N) Tyrell, and her brother, Ser Loras Tyrell, have brought back my sister. They did this with the hopes that peace could be negotiated between us. After some discussion, I have agreed to it,” he revealed the reason for his speech, and the crowd immediately began to talk. Someone yelled ‘silence!’ after seeing that Robb wished to keep speaking.

“Like I said, some of you might not like that. I know most of you have lost sons, brothers, and fathers in the war. Well, I have too. And now that my sister is back, with no knowledge of where Arya is, the Stark family is as together as it can be. And for all of you, as my men, I want the same. I want to return you home to your wives and daughters, to let you harvest your crops before the upcoming winter. We’ve all fought long, and we’ve fought well, but there’s no point in getting any more of us killed. Our numbers are too small now, all of you know that just as well as I do. And now, one of the main things we were fighting for is with us. I know many of you want revenge on Joffrey for taking my fathers head. I did too. But you all knew my father, wept with me when he died. He wouldn’t have wanted any more of us to keep dying in an attempt to take Joffrey’s head. You named me King in the North, and you’ve all followed me with the utmost loyalty. I hope that you can appreciate me doing the honorable thing, rather than the prideful thing.”

There was silence for a moment, and then one man yelled ‘King in the North!’ and knelt before Robb. After him, it seemed as if they all fell like dominoes, chanting for the young man they were following. Robb smiled, clearly relieved that his men were not upset with him.

When it was all done, he came up to me.

“I feel I can thank you fully now, Lady (Y/N), for bringing my sister home,” he said, taking my hand between his.

“Of course, Lord Stark. And I’ll thank you for doing your best to restore a fragile peace to the realm. I don’t expect you to trust House Tyrell or House Lannister anytime soon, but I hope you will remember that I try my best to do the honorable thing. I hope that should another threat ever come for Westeros, you’ll join us as part of the seven kingdoms,” I said, smiling at him.

“Perhaps I’ll just say I won’t, it might give me another chance to be convinced by you,” he joked, laughing just as I was.

“Another thing, Lord Stark. Tyrion Lannister promised to return Ice once peace was made. I’ll carry this out and have it returned to your family,” I said, and he nodded.

“Thank you, Lady (Y/N). It’s much appreciated. And please, don’t worry about your brother. He’ll be freezing at first, but we’ve got the best coats and tunics to keep him as warm as possible. Over time, he’ll adjust. And I’m glad to say my sister seems quite happy with him,” he assured me, looking over at Loras and Sansa who were chatting and laughing together.

“It was not a love marriage, but I’m certain they will be great friends, and that is certainly better than most marriages in Westeros,” I remarked with a sigh.

“It certainly is. I certainly wish upon you the happiness that I’ve had in my marriage,” he said genuinely.

“Thank you, Lord Stark,” I replied with a nod, though I truthfully wanted to add ‘perhaps I will if Lord Tywin feels like remarrying anytime soon.’

We gave each other a mutual look of respect, and though I expected him to walk away, Lord Stark pulled me into a hug.

“Thank you so much, Lady (Y/N), for being the bravest person in all three houses and doing something unusual to end the war and bring peace in Westeros,” he whispered.

I merely smiled and hugged him back.

“Of course, Lord Stark. I was tired of all the men making stupid decisions.”

He chuckled at that, and pulled away.

“I’m certain I’ll see you again someday, Lady (Y/N).”

“I hope so, Lord Stark.”

With that, we parted ways. Ser Elias and I were set to go back on our own, and the rest of the guards that had accompanied us would stay with Loras and Sansa.

I cried after saying goodbye to Loras. I knew I’d see him again once Winterfell was completely rebuilt and prosperous again, but it still hurt. At the very least, I reassured myself in knowing that I would get to break the news to Tywin. I couldn’t wait to see his face when he realized I’d successfully talked Robb Stark into peace. I hoped he would pull me into his arms and tell me he was proud. Though I knew he wouldn’t, I wanted him to cup my face in his hands and kiss me.

But, even besides all that, I was proud of myself. I was proud to know that I’d been able to restore a family and at least partially restore the realm. It had not been Tywin, nor Robb, nor anybody else. It had been me.

TAGLIST:

@cheyxfu @lemonscoffee @groovy-lady

@ladysindar @vesta-ro @exo-nova @paola-carter

@prettykinkysoul @nothing2113

@fullmoonshadowwrites

#tywin lannister x reader #tywin x reader #tywin lannister #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #robb stark #sansa stark #house tyrell #house lannister #a lion in the garden

[luvsfics]

GAME OF THRONES MASTERLIST —

Credits to @anitalenia for dividers!

🕯️= NSFW

🩰= Fluff

💭= Angst

•

•

•

•

#game of thrones #got fandom #got fanfiction #daenerys targaryen #daenerys stormborn #jon snow #sansa stark #robb stark #bran stark #arya stark #margaery tyrell #tyrion lannister #oberyn martell #khal drogo #queen daenerys #daenerys targaryen x reader #jon snow x reader #sansa stark x reader #robb stark x reader #margaery tyrell x reader

[ravensinthedaylight]

GOT/HOTD Masterlist

Taglist

Daenerys Targaryen x Daughter!Reader

City of Ash -  You struggle to look at your mother, Daenerys, after the burning of King's Landing.

Margaery Tyrell x Daughter!Reader

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#game of thrones #masterlist #house of the dragon #daenerys targaryen #daenerys daughter #daenerys targaryen x daughter!reader #margaery tyrell #robb stark x margaery tyrell #robbaery #alicent hightower x daughter!reader #alicent hightower #cersei lannister #cersei lannister x daughter!reader

[gulnarsultan]

🐺❤🏵

Robb Stark's source of trust.

Jon Snow's defense fortress.

Theon Greyjoy's the cause of approval.

Bennard Stark's mind teacher.

Sansa Stark's role model.

Jocelyn Stark's confidant.

Arya Stark's dare point.

Bran Stark's support friend.

Rickon Stark's compassion center.

#yandare game of thrones #yandere husband #yandere eddard stark #yandere house stark #house stark #eddard stark #eddard stark x reader #tyrell reader #house tyrell #robb stark #jon stark #jon snow #theon greyjoy #sansa stark #arya strak #bran stark #rickon stark #jocelyn stark #bennard stark #yandere asoiaf #yandere concept

[cdragons]

The Eastern Wind & Moon Sail to Winterfell

READ THIS FOR CONTEXT

Previous Part

Summary: 美灵 (Měilíng) and 明阴 (Míng Yīn) visit House Stark after news of Jon Arryn's death and murder arrives at Winterfell. Ned Stark senses a trouble brewing in the air. Are the vultures from King's Landing circling to soon feast on his family's flesh? Is there any way to stop it? Meanwhile, the Young Wolf begins to battle his desires for the heart and affections of one tempestuous YiTish Sea Captain.

Warning(s): MDNI 18+; Canon doesn't exist here *shhhhhhhh*, Ned is having a crisis, Stannis may be OOC; Robb Stark wants to Dom the hot sea captain when he's clearly a Sub; Catelyn Stark is kind of a bitch; GOT is GOT (shit's gonna go down); Yi Tish dialogue is Bold, Italicized, and Green

Author's Note: Author hasn't seen Game of Thrones in a long-ass time, so if the characters are OOC...my bad 🤷🏻‍♀️. I used Mandarin for YiTish, and translations are at the bottom. Game of Thrones belong to GRR Martin, and the regions of Yi Ti are all credited to @anya-snow. If you liked reading this, please check out the masterlist!

Arya continually stabbed her needle in the fabric as Septa Mordane gushed over Sansa’s pretty embroidery. She looked beside her and met eyes with his youngest brother’s betrothed, Shireen Baratheon. The young girl gave an encouraging smile as she also struggled with stitching and embroidery. The young Baratheon heiress preferred to lose herself in the ancient library in Winterfell or with Maester Luwin as they discussed the history of House Targaryen.

The Stark girl smiled back at the young Baratheon. She liked Shireen very much, and thought her excellent company. At night, she would recount tales and stories her sister, Minna, shared from her travels in letters or from herself. Arya felt her mood drop again as he looked at Sansa. Shireen was so lucky to have an older sister as exciting and fun as Minna—someone who would fight and travel the world. The girls were only sisters through marriage. Shireen was from Stannis Baratheon’s first marriage, as Minna was the daughter of her mother’s first in Yi Ti, but they loved each other so fiercely that blood hardly mattered.

Minna didn’t care that Shireen was scarred from Greyscale, nor did she treat her as a pitiful creature to grow with her face. Minna and her mother, Lady Mei, loved the girl to the seven hells and back. The woman loved Shireen so much that she demanded her new husband swear that Shireen’s place as his heir would not be changed if they ever had a son. Arya still remembered the night she overheard Shireen tell Rickon how Minna told her that the gods gave Shireen her scars to prevent the Maiden from cursing her.

“Minnie told me I have the most beautiful soul,” she whispered just loud enough for Arya to hear her from outside an open door. “If I were beautiful both inside and out, the Gods would have cursed me for having too much, like Aphrodite had done to Marcaria.”

Arya bitterly continued with her stitching as a dull thud entered her ears, and she turned her head in the direction of laughter outside in the courtyard.

Bran struggled as he pulled his arm to draw out the bowstring. His older brothers, Jon and Robb, stood beside him in observation to guide his lessons while his younger brother, Rickon, sat above them on a mounted saddle. When he released the bowstring, the arrow shot up and over the target and outside the wall. He looked down in dejection as his brothers began to laugh even harder.

“And which one of you was a mark smith at ten?” his father, Lord Eddard ‘Ned’ Stark, called out above them. He and Lady Catelyn Stark, nee Tully, watched him practice. Ned Stark looked at his young son and encouraged him. “Keep practicing, Bran. Go on.”

Jon Snow lowered to whisper in Bran’s ear. “Don’t think too much about it, Bran.”

“Relax your bow arm,” remarked Robb.

Just when Bran was about to release his draw, an arrow shot past him and pierced the red center of the target. Whipping his head behind him, Bran saw it was Arya with a bow about twice her height. She curtsied with a smile before Bran went after her. She let him chase after her, and soon, they were running around the courtyard.

“Quick, Bran! Faster!” called out Jon as he and Robb watched their two siblings joyfully play.

Rickon remained seated on the mounted saddle. He looked up at the window where Sansa and Shireen should be. When his mother and father told him he would marry Stannis Baratheon’s daughter last year, his mother was enraged. He overheard Mother plead with his father to reconsider the match. She did not want her youngest boy to be with someone deformed by the gods. But Father dismissed her claims.

“Shireen Baratheon is Mei’s daughter now, and she confirmed that the girl’s illness is no longer contagious.” Ned Stark firmly stated.

“You would risk our family’s health over some foreign woman’s ‘confirmation?’’ Catelyn Stark exclaimed. “How is she to know? How can you possibly trust her words so much? A woman from a land as far as hers has no way of knowing such remedies. What if she and that girl–”

Her husband cut her off. “That’s enough, Cat. I understand your worries. I do. But I will not allow you to besmirch Mei’s and her daughter’s good names. She has been a long friend of Stannis Baratheon, and now she is his wife. She would never harm children. Never.”

He noticed his words frustrated his wife, and he placed a gentle hand on her arm before laying a soft kiss on her brow. “Mei is probably the wisest woman I have ever known. And sending Shireen with her daughter isn’t so much for an engagement – but to make her comfortable around others. The boys are long used to her sister’s presence; they will take up nicely with Shireen’s.”

And the matter was settled. Rickon remembered how Mother and Sansa kept their distance from the girl when she first arrived with Minna. Minna would only stay for the first month before leaving to travel to the Reach and then Dorne. When Shireen first approached him during Luwin’s lessons, he was amazed by the book size she was carrying. The moment she opened her mouth about things like Jin and huakaʻi pō, Rickon decided that it would make him extremely happy if he spent the rest of his life with Shireen. His mother was less than pleased and stormed off to lock herself in Winterfell’s Sept. But Father only gave Rickon a proud smile and gave his hair a good tousle.

As Ned Stark and his wife laughed at the scene, they were interrupted by the small pattering of a child’s footsteps running towards them. They turned and saw Shireen Baratheon escorted by Theon Greyjoy, the Ironborn ward. The odd pair first bowed respectfully and greeted Lord and Lady Stark with their titles before Theon stepped aside for Shireen. The young girl was beaming so widely that it warmed the old Lord’s heart. He couldn’t help but pity the child for the hand life dealt her, but it filled his heart to know that she would at least experience some kindness outside her own family.

“Ah, Lady Shireen,” he greeted the girl. “What brings you here? Come to watch Bran practice?”

Shireen shook her head. “No, my lord. I just received news from Shadow. My sister is currently docked at Dragonstone, and she, Mother, and Steffard will be arriving in White Harbor in a week’s time from tomorrow!”

Ned’s eyebrows shot up in bewilderment. “A week? From Dragonstone to White Harbor? How will they make it so fast with her crew and that giant ship of hers?”

“They won’t be coming with her,” Shireen answered. “She’s traveled to after stopping at King’s Landing. Father is Dragonstone to take care of some things while she sails alone. My sister is a very accomplished sailor blessed with the winds’ favor, my lord. I wouldn’t be surprised if she arrived here in just five days or less.”

Ned gave a loud laugh. “Knowing she’s your mother’s daughter, it wouldn’t surprise me either. Thank you for telling me.”

“I’ll be sure to prepare a guest room for them,” Lady Catelyn informed her husband before turning to Shireen. “Will your sister and Lady Baratheon bring their own handmaidens, or will they need one provided? Will your brother need a wet nurse?”

Shireen shook her head. “Oh no, my lady! My sister greatly dislikes the idea of handmaidens and ladies-in-waiting! But Minnie said that she would be bringing Wu! And my mother prefers to nurse my brother.”

Lady Catelyn Stark’s smile faltered slightly while Ned’s widened at the mention of Lady Minna’s ‘pets.’ The beasts resembled more killers than travel companions. Catelyn Stark almost preferred the ruffians that made up her crew to the animals.

Shireen turned to Theon. “Do you think Ari will enjoy spending time with another bird? I would feel awful if he became lonely from Shadow’s arrival.”

Theon gave a sincere smile to the young girl before tousling her hair. “I think nothing would make him happier, my lady. He was bored out of his mind being alone with the ravens before Baleor’s arrival. What’s one more?”

Rodrick walked up to his lord and lady to inform them that they had captured a deserter of the Wall, and they were ready to give his execution. Ned Stark’s expression became somber hearing the news as his eyes darted to the young Shireen. He ordered Theon to escort her and Rickon to Maester Luwin for their lessons before telling Robb and Jon to saddle their horses. When the Greyjoy ward left, he informed Rodrick that Bran would join them. This gave concern to his wife.

“Ned,” she pleaded. “Ten is too young to see such things.”

“He won’t be a boy forever,” her husband replied. “And winter is coming.”

Bran kept thinking about the words his father had imparted to him after he had taken off the deserter’s head with Ice.

“The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.”

It still confused him. He wanted to ask Robb when Father stopped in the middle of the road. He made a right turn toward the river. Jon was right behind Father while Bran followed. It was a direwolf! But…it was dead, and it had pups! But as excited as Bran was, he made no sound. Everyone around him was silent as they all stood in awe at the dead symbol of their house.

“It’s a freak,’ remarked Theon.

Father corrected him. ‘It’s a direwolf–” he looked at Rodrick for a moment in shock before grabbing the antler lodged in its throat “–tough old beast.”

“There are no direwolves South of the Wall,” commented Robb.

“Now there are five,” remarked Jon, picking one pup in his arms and handing it to Bran. “You want to hold it?”

The pup’s fur was white with speckles of grey across its body. Its body squirmed as it whined and whimpered at the change of its surroundings – and for the death of its mother.

Bran looked up at his brother. “Where will they go? Their mother’s dead.”

With a heavy heart, Rodrick answered the young lordling’s question. “They don’t belong down here.”

Ned Stark stood with his sword in hand. “Better a quick death. They won’t last without their mother.”

“Right,” Theon unsheathed his blade and reached for the pup in Bran’s arms. “Give it here.”

“No!” Bran cried as Theon looked mildly distressed at the boy’s plea.

“Put away your blade,” Robb commanded his friend. He didn’t like to give Theon orders – especially since the boy was more like a brother to him than just a ward his father brought from the Iron Islands, but he didn’t want to spill the direwolf pup’s blood.

Nonetheless, Robb’s words irked Theon. “I take orders from your father, not you.”

But Bran couldn’t allow the pups to die. He continued to plead with his father. “Please, Father!”

“I’m sorry, Bran.” The lord didn’t like seeing his young so upset, but he needed to understand the way of the world. It would be cruel to let the pups live – only to struggle to live and die before winter comes.

“Lord Stark–” Ned turned around to his son’s voice “–there are five pups—one for each of the Stark children. The direwolf is the sigil of your house. They were meant to have them.”

“And what about you?” thought Ned. “Are you not my child? Why should you be denied the right to wear and own the sigil of my house – your house? Even if you carry neither mine nor your mother’s name- are you still not of my blood?”

 He looked at his son with sad and hurt eyes as if reliving a memory from another lifetime ago. When everyone turned to him, waiting for an answer, he replied sternly and somberly.

“You will train them yourselves. You will feed them yourselves.” And with bitter anger on his tongue, he spat out. “And if they die, you will bury them yourselves.”

As Jon handed two more direwolf pups in Robb’s arms, Bran turned to his brother. “What about you?”

Jon hesitated before answering. “I’m not a Stark. Get on.”

But as they began to leave, Jon heard small and faint whimpers from below. He walked down to try and locate it. Robb and Theon stopped to ask if there was a problem. For his answer. He held up a sixth direwolf pup – one with stark white fur like snow and piercing blood-red eyes.

“Ah, the runt of the litter,” Theon quipped with a smug smirk. “That one’s yours, Snow.”

Jon looked at Greyjoy with exasperation, while Robb looked pleased and grateful for the albino pup’s existence. At the very least, his favorite brother also had a direwolf. He was a Stark – whether his mother liked it or not.

The ride back to Winterfell was quiet in the front, with the grown men still somber and sullen from the execution. But the boys were speaking with one another with great excitement for bringing home new members of their family. Robb and Theon were riding in front of Jon and Bran. Bran was still thinking about what the deserter said about the white walkers. Was he lying? Was Father right about mad men seeing what they want to see? But…he didn’t look mad.

“Quite the day for the lad. Eh, Bran?” Theon called out to him as Bran broke from his thoughts. “First, your first deserter execution. Next, you and your siblings are getting a direwolf each. And to think, I thought Shireen’s sister’s arrival would be the most exciting news of the day.”

“What?” thought Bran. His thoughts about white walkers and deserters were quickly replaced by news of his friend's arrival.

“Minnie’s coming?” he excitedly asked with a broad smile and bright eyes. “Did she say when? Is she bringing Wu with her?”

Theon’s news also caught Jon’s and Robb’s attention. Jon was lost in his thoughts since finding the albino wolf pup. Robb was thinking about Arya’s and Rickon’s reactions to receiving the privilege of caring for their house’s sigil. But now, something of greater import came to their attention.

“Ming’s coming?” asked Jon. “Are you sure?”

Theon smirked at the bastard’s excitement. “I was with her when Shadow flew up to her with a message tied on its leg – escorted the Lady Shireen myself when she told Lord and Lady Stark. Lass was practically jumping off the walls after reading it.”

“Did she say when she would be arriving? Are Lord Stannis and his lady wife coming with her?” asked Robb.

Theon shook his head. “She says she’s in Dragonstone to prepare for her stay. She’ll be at White Harbor in a week. She’s bringing their mother and brother, too. But Lord Stannis won’t be joining them this time.”

This greatly confused Bran and his brothers. Lord Stannis was infamous for his sour expressions and austereness – but anyone who had the privilege of meeting him now would see how much the company of his second wife softened his hard nature. Stannis Baratheon was a man who showed no love for his brothers, but he adored the women and girls in his life. An adoration now extended to his youngest child, his only son.

For such a man to not travel with his wife was a strange and unusual occurrence.

“Why is Lord Stannis not traveling with Minnie and Lady Mei?” asked Bran. His brows furrowed before worry took hold of him. “Did he and Lady Mei fight, and she’s running away with their son?”

“Bran, that’s enough,” ordered Jon. “Everyone knows how much Lord Stannis respects Lady Mei’s advice. I’m sure he's not joining them because there’s too much to do at King’s Landing. Being King Robert’s brother gives him a great number of duties.”

Theon turned to Jon with a wide smirk. “Awfully defensive of Lady Mei’s honor – aren’t you, Snow? Think that’ll grant you any favors from her daughter, ‘Minion’?”

“Don’t call her that!” Bran called out.

Jon sputtered his response with red-tipped ears. “You know how much she hates being called that. Or do you want a repeat of what happened in the courtyard when you and Robb first called her that? And, of course, I care about Minna’s mother – I’d be a bad friend if I didn’t.”

Jon shouldn’t be as excited as he was at that moment. But he couldn’t help himself. Ming – his Ming – was coming to Winterfell. She was everything Jon wanted in an older sibling. She was invincible and told him as such. She and her mother had never once treated him differently from the rest of the Stark Children after learning of his bastard status. Whenever he got in over his head about his birth, she would always manage to ground him in some way. Once, he asked her if she was trying to trick him. She stared at him briefly before rolling up a piece of paper and swatting his head.

He still remembered her scowl with fondness.

“Do I look as stupid as Catelyn Stark to you?” she interrogated. “Who cares if you’re a bastard? You care about your siblings and work hard to be a worthy son despite the world giving you an excuse not to. I’ve given you some of my favorite fruits from my homeland, and you dare ask me if my friendship towards you was a ruse?! Don’t be stupid, Jon.”

He wept like a baby. He had never felt so happy in his life, and all he could do was thank his friend while weeping for joy. And to make him stop crying, she let him cry on her shoulder as she softly stroked his hair.

“Yeah,” snorted Theon. “Friend – sure.”

“That’s enough,” Robb cut in. “All of you. You want Father to scold us?”

Robb could tell his brothers were ecstatic about Ming’s arrival, but he had conflicting emotions about the news. Ming Yin Baratheon was a woman grown who was older than him by two years, the same age as Theon. Ming always had a wicked and brash tongue on her. When they first met, she was his height but so skinny and dressed so plainly with dirt streaks on her face.

Was it really so bad if he assumed she was smallfolk?

Then Theon dared him to tug on her braid while she was reading a book in the courtyard. A stupid dare between stupid boys resulted in them running for their lives with tears down their cheeks as a short and bookish girl chased them with a broom twice her height. She shouted out curses and promises of all the vile things she would do to them as she violently swung the broom through the air with fire in her eyes and poison on her tongue.

It took the combined efforts of Stannis, his father, Rodrick, and Jory to pry her off when she caught up to them. In the end, Robb’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as Luwin treated his bleeding nose, black eye, and bruises across his body while he and Father occasionally snickered to themselves. His mother nearly had a heart attack at the state of her eldest child. When she heard what had happened and tried to scold the girl, Ming only responded by blowing her tongue and spraying her spittle at the Tully woman. Even with more dirt on her cheeks than before and her braid ruined, she carried herself in such an unrelenting dignified manner that Robb couldn’t help but envy it.

At the very least, Theon was in no better state than him.

How in the Seven Hells could a girl of nine years manage to fight off four grown men? The memory stumped Robb then and still stumped him now.

“Scared of meeting the Demoness from Dragonstone?” Theon smugly asked when he saw his friend staring in the distance. “Or are you worried she won’t be impressed with your new height and strength when she sees you haven’t improved your writing?”

Robb scoffed at Theon’s words. “No, don’t be ridiculous.”

He refused to believe that he cared so much for some quick-tempered girl who always teased him– even if she had shiny black hair that ended at her waist and sharp, expressive dark eyes with full lips. It didn’t matter that she haunted his dreams every night since she was in Winterfell when she turned fourteen. It didn’t matter to Robb that Minna was the epitome of an exotic beauty with enough fire in her soul for any Northern winter to freeze her. It didn’t matter to Robb that she was closer to Jon than to him.

“I’ll kiss you when you finally beat me.”

It didn’t matter to Robb – none of it.

“I’m not scared of Minna, Theon – so stop trying to bait me.” Robb let that be the final word before riding ahead just behind his father.

Meanwhile, Ned had heard everything passed between the boys while riding in the front. He chuckled at Bran’s excitement. He was sure he would be climbing the gates of Winterfell every day to wait for Minna’s arrival. It was no secret to anyone in the Stark family or those working in Winterfell that Bran had a bit of a crush on the tempestuous sailor. While his wife disliked the girl, Ned was very fond of her. Her temper and sharp tongue reminded him of Mei when he first met her. Not to mention that she was the spitting image of Mei at that age.

He wasn’t too old to be oblivious to how his sons acted around pretty girls – especially girls like her. Northern women were one thing, but Mei and Minna were an entire league of women. There had never been two women who would turn Westeros upside down and inside out as much as them. Mei had turned the forever stoic Stannis Baratheon into a feeling human, became the most respected woman in the Keep, and opened trade opportunities for Westeros. At the same time, Minna tore down every obstacle in her path to pursue knowledge and made Dragonstone one of the richest keeps in the Seven Kingdoms – not that Robert or his queen will ever get a hold of a single coin from her.

When Ned and his sons returned to Winterfell, he was immediately bombarded with questions from the rest of his children about whether Minnie was really coming to Winterfell. They asked if he knew about whether he knew she was bringing gifts from her travels. Arya wanted to know if she would give her a dagger forged by the Master blacksmiths from Qohor. Rickon hoped she would bring any sweets and candied fruits.

Even Sansa couldn’t hide her excitement. Despite the girls' differences, Minna would bring Sansa the most exquisite fabrics, accessories, and books. The gifts were more often than not used as a way to distract her from any pranks or tricks pulled on her. Thankfully, Mei would be here as well. Sansa held Lady Mei Baratheon on nearly the same high pedestal as her mother. She would tell how beautiful Sansa was growing and how her grace and charm rivaled the most beautiful empresses from her homeland. She would sing praises of how her stitching looked more impressive than the last time she’d seen it while sharing news of the latest trends worn among noble women worldwide.

Excitement filled the halls of Winterfell at the news of their guests. Preparations were underway for their arrival. Ned went to the Godswood and shone his sword under the branches of the Old Weirwood tree for some peace. He was grateful for the life the Old Gods blessed him with. This was not the life he was meant to have. Everything of his should have been Brandon’s – his wife, his title, his responsibilities – but he wouldn’t change any of it, not for all of the power and gold in the world.

But his world would be crashing down around him when his wife arrived with a message from King’s Landing.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” Catelyn told him with sympathetic eyes. Then she told him Jon Arryn had died, and Robert and his wife would travel to Winterfell with their children and the Queen’s brothers.

Ned looked down at his feet. “If he’s traveling this far North, it’s for one thing.” He looked at his wife in hidden fear. “He wants to make me his Hand.”

“First Mei, now Robert,” thought Ned when he shared the news to his children. “May the Old Gods and New protect my family for what’s to come.”

Bran watched the road to his father’s keep from the top of the gates. He saw a single dot moving closer and closer until the dot became a wheelhouse. His eyes widened in excitement as his smile broadened in anticipation for his friend in the horse-drawn carriage that carried House Baratheon’s banner. He stood up and ran across the edge or beginning to climb down the tower. He reached the ground to run to his father at the stables.

“They’re here! They’re here!” he exclaimed when he reached him. The boy was practically bouncing on his heels for barely containing his elation.

Ned chuckled at the sight of his son. “Who, Bran?”

“Minnie! There’s a wheelhouse coming! It carries the sigil of House Baratheon!”

“Was anyone carrying the banner?” his father asked with a quizzical brow raised.

Bran shook his head. “No, but I saw it painted on the top of it.”

“Alright, then,” nodded Ned as he gave his son instructions. “Gather your brothers, sisters, and Shireen. I’ll prepare your mother. Tell them to gather in the courtyard to greet them.”

Bran nodded before doing as his father instructed. He swiftly ran through the familiar halls of the Winterfell keep that was his home. He found Sansa, Arya, and Shireen with Septa Morgane. They were learning their sums when Bran burst into the room. Septa Morgane scolded him for acting so brashly, but her words were quickly ignored when Bran told the girls that Minnie and her mother would soon arrive. As soon as the news left his mouth, Shireen dashed right past him, followed by his sisters.

Jon, Robb, and Theon were already in the courtyard, sparring with wooden swords, when Bran found them. They immediately put away their wooden swords and met their father with Rodrick right behind them. Father and Mother stood side-by-side when Robb stood to Father’s left. Rickon stood next to their mother, and Shireen stood next to him with an eager smile beaming on her face. Sansa stood to Robb’s left, Arya on her right, and Bran was on hers. Jon and Theon were behind them – Theon was a Greyjoy, but Ned Stark’s ward. Jon was a Stark by blood…but not by name.

Shireen was bouncing on the tips of her toes in hopes that time would move faster. The days since her sister’s letter of her arrival moved so slowly, and she could hardly sleep a wink last night for this moment.

“Do you think she missed me?” she whispered to Rickon.

“Of course! Minnie loves you more than anything!” Rickon replied. “Even more than her own ship, I think.”

The loud creaks and groans of the aged wood crept closer and closer until the wheelhouse stopped in the courtyard’s center. The driver ensured the horses were calm and stable before leaping from his seat and opening the doors. A vision in a marigold silk tunic with trumpet sleeves and gold floral patterns paired with a gold belt around her waist. It was a shame that such finery was hidden underneath a thick wool cloak with a thick fur mantle. Her lustrous, flowing, jet-black tresses were bound with a green ribbon and golden stitching in a single braid trailing down her back. The pendant of her husband’s sigil hung down from a simple gold chain over her bosom.

Lady Měilíng Baratheon was the second wife of Stannis Baratheon and the mother of his only son. As she stepped down from the wheelhouse, she stepped on the dirt with such grace and poise that it seemed the Mother of the Seven had come instead of a highborn lord’s wife. A woman over forty years of age who still managed to get pregnant and carry a son to term – she looked far too young to be her age.  

A small boy who could not have been taller than Ned Stark’s knee shuffled behind her. It was the little lording, Steffard Baratheon, the only son of his father and second-in-line to inherit Dragonstone after his older sister, Shireen. He wore a fine coat from a stag’s hide and little shoes to protect his feet. Like his mother, he too wore a gold pendant of his father’s sigil hung from a simple chain. Despite being blessed with most of his mother’s soft features, he certainly inherited his father’s bright blue Baratheon eyes and inky-black curls.

Seeing the boy standing next to his mother, Ned felt a hundred years older than he was. Where had the time gone? He, Mei, and Robert were all children once – children involved in a war to decide the fate of a country for its future years. Ned had once pitied the YiTish girl for the hand she was dealt in life. As a foreigner, she should have had no part in Robert’s Rebellion, but she experienced loss and grief like the rest of them nonetheless.

And now, all three of them were leaders with their own children and carrying burdens on their shoulders that their children would inherit – how the years escaped them.

Měilíng searched for her young daughter and beamed when she found her. She nudged her little son and guided his eyes to his sister. His eyes lit up as he toddled to her, warming her heart. “希希 (XīXī)!” he exclaimed as Shireen ran towards him. Her arms were spread open as Steffard leaped into her arms and wrapped his arms around her neck. “I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!”

“I missed you too!” Shireen giggled as her body was flooded with her baby brother’s warmth.

Still locked in their reunion, the two young siblings spun in circles before falling on the ground in laughter. The scene loosened the tension as House Stark looked at the pair warmly.

When they stopped laughing, Shireen helped her brother as she looked at their mother. Mei’s smile shined as she squatted on the ground, balanced her body with her feet, and spread her arms wide open to greet her daughter. Shireen needed no instructions to race into her mother’s arms. A cocoon of love and happiness blanketed the young Baratheon girl as her face was dotted with pecks and kisses. She buried her face in the crook of her mother’s neck and breathed in her scent – her mother always smelled like the salty sea breeze of Dragonstone and peonies. To Shireen, it was as if she was transported home, and if she closed her eyes, she was back on the shores of the Dragonstone beaches, walking alongside Minnie.

“How are you, my little doe?” her mother asked as she tenderly stroked the back of her head. “Did you enjoy the books your sister and I sent you? Did you enjoy your lessons with Maester Luwin and Septa Morgane?”

Shireen answered her mother with a broad smile and starry eyes. “I am well, mother. I loved the books! But–” Shireen looked behind her mother to try to find her sister “–where is Minnie? Was she not in the wheelhouse with you and Steffard?”

Meiling shook her head as she laughed to herself. “Do not worry, little doe, your sister is here. But she is a little worse for wear after days in the wheelhouse.”

Their mother rose from her feet as her hands remained grasped with Shireen’s. She turned to the wheelhouse behind her and called out her daughter in the language of their homeland. “明阴 (Míng Yīn)! How long do you intend to keep your sister waiting?”

A weary and pained groan exited the horse-drawn transport in response. “Would you give me a minute? I’m a little busy trying not to die here!”

“You are not dying!” Měilíng scoffed. “How long do you want to keep Ned and his family waiting?”

“As soon as I’m done making sure I won’t shit or vomit my guts out! I don’t want to have to pay any additional fees for this torture device on wheels!”

“Do you need a brush for your hair?”

“NO!” A few moments passed. “OKAY! I’m good!”

The giant wooden box creaked as Shireen’s sister finally exited the wheelhouse, and she immediately breathed in the fresh air only found in the North. A young woman an entire head taller than Měilíng stepped into the light – despite the bags under her eyes and the slightly tired look on her face, she was every bit as beautiful and poised as her mother.

Míng Yīn was exactly how Ned Stark imagined her mother would have looked if Mei trained herself in combat and fighting as a child. Her dark almond-shaped eyes could either enchant a man enough to willingly give her his life or scare the souls of all her enemies. Her muscles grew and hardened after years of training under her biological father in Yi Ti before traveling around the world on open seas – fighting anyone who dared cross blades with her and leaving a trail of blood and corpses for fish to nibble on. Ned did not doubt that she would bankrupt his boys if they even dared to try and bet against her in combat.

Míng Yīn wore her hair in a half-up-down style with a part of her hair bound in a simple braid on the back of her head. Her outfit was more fitting of a sailor than a highborn noblewoman. She wore a mid-length dark blue wool robe with a silver border stitched on the hem and long sleeves. The robe was wrapped around her body in a way that left her neck, collarbones, and the slightest hint of her cleavage out in the open. The dark linen sash that held her sword and dagger further emphasized the curve of her hips and waist. The black leather breeches hugged her lower body, and the tall black leather boots highlighted the muscles of her calves.

A large black jaguar had quickly come outside the wheelhouse as well. Its pristine and shiny coat shone in the faint sunlight that bathed Winterfell. Without missing a beat, it promptly stood beside its mistress, scanning the new environment for any dangers that would risk his beloved mistress’ safety and well-being.

So, Míng had indeed brought Wu. Robb’s mother wouldn’t like that.

But unlike her mother and brother, Míng Yīn did not wear the sigil of her mother’s second husband’s house. On her neck and sitting on her breasts was a black jade pendant with a small dragon with a white eye carved into it hung from a red string. On each side of the pendant was a tiny Dragon’s Bloodstone bead.

Robb unconsciously straightened his posture at the sight of her. He felt himself release a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding until Ming came into view. Years’ worth of memories flooded his mind as she reached for her younger sister.

The young Baratheon girl launched herself in her sister’s arms. “Minnie! You’re here!”

Robb watched on the sidelines as Ming greeted Shireen with a dozen kisses for each month since they last saw one another. He wondered if she still smelled as cool and crisp as the ocean’s wind that blew through her hair. Or if her skin would taste as warm and bright as the sunshine soaking her skin while she stood on her ship’s dock on cloudless days.

He longed for a sample – anything would be enough.

When the two sisters parted, Wu gently lowered himself to nudge his head against Shireen. Loud purrs came from his throat as the young girl scratched that spot under his chin and stroked his back.

“Oh, Wu! You’ve become even more beautiful! Thank you for protecting Minnie!”

The beast preened at the attention. Míng Yīn was his mistress and savior and, therefore, his favorite. His eternal loyalty and love would forever belong to her. But if he had to choose a second favorite, it would belong to Shireen Baratheon – for she had the purest soul and kindest heart in all of the Seven Kingdoms.

Rickon could also not contain himself and joined his betrothed to embrace her sister. The sight of two small children clinging to the person who brought fear and awe to every sailor, sea merchant, and trading company from Westeros to Essos was both comical and heartwarming. A scene that became more comical was when Míng Yīn grabbed one child each and flung them on her shoulders as if they were small sacks of flour. Wu jumped on his hind legs to play as he licked their tiny hands.

Finally, Lady Měilíng of House Baratheon and her children brought themselves to stand before the Lord of the Winterfell and knelt with one knee on the ground in a show of respect. Ned told them to raise before bringing his old friend in a tight embrace.

When they parted, he gave her a look-down to take the sight of her in fully. “Gods, look at you. How many years has it been?"

Měilíng gave a kind smile in response. “I’d say almost two years – far shorter compared to when you’ve last seen Robert.”

“How is Robert in King’s Landing? Is he working Stannis to the ground?”

Měilíng huffed in annoyance at the mention of her brother-in-law’s name. “Oh, of course. The man’s too stupid and fat to do anything else but order his brother, my husband, and his Hand to run his kingdom while he eats, drinks, and whores himself to ruin.”

Everyone apart from Ned widened their eyes in shock at the woman’s words. Did she not fear for her head? Was it alright if the wife of the King’s brother said such things of him? But Mei only turned to Ned’s wife as she bowed in respect for Lady Stark.

“Lady Stark,” she spoke in a clear and calm voice. “On behalf of my husband and House Baratheon, I humbly thank you for opening your home to allow my daughter to stay with your children this past year. Your generosity was further extended to allow room for my family’s visit. I cannot imagine the stress my eldest daughter gave you when her letter stated that we would be here in less than two weeks.”

Catelyn bowed her head in response. “Think nothing of it, my lady. Lady Shireen Baratheon had been our home's most polite and wonderful guest. I am grateful you and your husband sent her to my family’s home to host her. She had quickly become my youngest son’s most favorite playmate.”

Měilíng smiled at the woman’s words. She then turned to the Stark children before greeting each and every one of them. She marveled at how tall and handsome Robb had become since childhood. She softly whispered in his ear if he were hopeful that his sparring skills improved enough to beat her daughter. Seeing him sputtering and pale skin blushing made a very amusing scene. When she came across Sansa, she gasped and held the girl’s hands in her own.

“Oh, Sansa!” she exclaimed. “Look at you! You’ve grown so beautiful and tall since I last saw you. I thought you were a princess! And your cloak – tell me, did you do the stitching?”

Sansa softly giggled as she blushed from the praise. “Yes, Lady Baratheon. I’ve improved a lot in my stitching and needlework since you last saw me – I’m sure I could even make you something, if you’d like.”

Měilíng put a gentle palm on the girl’s cheek. “I would love nothing more. Perhaps you would even convince my eldest to practice her needlework. Or even try to persuade her to stop wearing breeches and trousers when she’s not at sea.”

“Never going to happen, Mother,” interjected Míng Yīn, who had finally put Shireen and Rickon on the ground after greeting Lord and Lady Stark. “I do enough needlework on my own. Thank you very much.”

Míng Yīn’s mother turned to her daughter in exasperation. “The only time you practiced as a child for needlework was to sew wounds close after training with your father.”

“…Yeah, exactly,” Míng Yīn nodded with a slight shrug and a blank expression. “What more needlework skills are necessary after that?”

“Minnie!” shouted Arya and Bran as they both made their way to crowd the woman. After exchanging warm greetings and kind words, the most essential questions came from the younger Stark daughter’s mouth.

“Did you bring gifts?” she asked in an eager tone.

“Arya!” exclaimed her sister and mother. Both women’s faces turned red at Arya’s impoliteness as Ned and his friend only laughed at the girl’s bluntness.

Míng Yīn stroked her chin as if deep in thought. “Did I bring gifts? Huh…I wonder…that doesn’t sound like something I’d do. Is it?”

Bran jumped like a child of four after eating too much sugar. “You did! Can we see them? Please?” He turned to his father with pleading eyes.

Ned slightly shook his head. “Come on now, Bran. Let our guests first get settled in their rooms. Judging from Lady Minna’s expression, she could do for a bit of rest.”

“But after they get settled, can they give us the presents?” Rickon sweetly asked while holding Steffard’s hand on one side while Shireen held the other as they placed the baby on Wu’s back.

His mother answered as she softly stroked his head. “After they rest for a bit, then we will have supper. The cooks prepared a feast for our guests’ arrival. There will be plenty of time tomorrow.”

Even Sansa deflated a bit with her younger siblings that they couldn’t receive their presents sooner rather than later.

Míng Yīn grabbed Shireen by the back of her cloak before placing her sister on her back. Shireen was a bit shocked before she giggled at the display of her sister’s open affection and wrapped her arms around her neck as Míng Yīn looped her arms around her little legs.

“Anyone been doing this for you while I’ve been gone?” she smirked.

Shireen responded with glee. “No! I only like you doing these!”

As Robb watched his parents and sister walk off with Lady Meiling and Steffard, he figured now was as good a time as any to approach Ming. Shireen jumped off her back to her mother’s side to try and hold her brother the rest of the way to their rooms.

“Ming!” he called out. He felt his palms grow sweaty when she turned around in his direction.

He walked towards her with long, confident strides. He thought he looked intimidating, but he realized that wasn’t the case when she burst out laughing. The young lord’s ears burned at her reaction, and they only grew hotter when he heard Theon and Jon snickering behind him.

She only stopped laughing long enough to gasp out a response. “What’s with that face? You look like you swallowed a lemon!”

…Fuck, what was Robb to say in response to that? He had to be smart about this. He would not make a fool of himself. He tried his best not to stare at the jaguar staring at him with hollow eyes.

“…I’m finally taller than you,” he dumbly stated.

“Shit,” was the only echoing in Robb’s mind as he heard Jon and Theon loudly guffawed as they heard him.

He didn’t have to look behind him to know that the bastards collapsed on the ground, gasping for air.

But Míng Yīn only walked toward him while Wu did not come any closer before stopping a few feet away as she traced her eyes over his face and down his form. He saw her dark eyes crinkle with appreciation as a sweet smile spread. She snorted out through her nose as she stepped even closer until only a few inches of air were between them. Wu still hadn’t moved, but he was staring more intensely than before, and Robb wondered if his death would be from a jaguar clawing out his throat.

“Yes,” she whispered as her eyes darted to his lips. “You’re much taller now.”

Blue met black as only the noises came from their parents walking farther and farther away. Their growing distance made the space between them seem more like a separate reality. One where it was only the two of them and no one else. Robb’s eyes quickly glanced down to Ming’s lips, and his Adam’s apple bobbed at the thought of them around his cock.

But that bubble burst when Míng Yīn bumped her fist into Robb’s chest and backed away with a cheeky grin and mischievous eyes.

“笨蛋 (Bèndàn), I’m still going to kick your ass in the courtyard, though.” She turned to Wu before walking. “Come on, 无牙 (Wú yá)! Let’s catch up to 小希 (Xiǎo xī )! I want to take a bath before dinner.” She turned to walk back to her family and called out to him without looking back. “You’ll always be a hundred years too early to beat me in a fight!”

Robb only stood in a daze as he watched her walk away. When Theon slapped his back, he finally came to and saw that Jon was beside him.

Theon snickered at the glare his friend gave him. “Stare at her ass any longer, and I’ll think you’ve become more scarecrow than wolf. Plus, I think the cat can sense your eyes.”

Robb only shrugged. “It’s a good ass to stare at.”

“It’s a great ass to stare at. That doesn’t make you look less stupid.”

“Can we stop talking about Ming’s backside?” Jon begged. He didn’t like talking about their friend in such a disrespectful manner, and he liked the idea of Wu tearing out their throats even less. “Let’s get back to sparring with Rodrick before the feast.”

Another reason to adore Míng Yīn – she hated it when Jon wasn’t included in the feasts while she was staying at Winterfell. The feast of her first coming to Winterfell with her mother was marked mainly by how she walked out of the Great Hall and returned with Jon. She dragged him by the wrist before seating him right next to her at the table.

Jon was terrified Lady Stark would berate his new friend for deliberately bringing the bastard to the feast. But all that came was a stare-down between the Lady Stark and Ming Yin. Lady Stark’s face was red with embarrassment, and she stared down at the girl with the most terrifying look Jon had ever seen. Just remembering the expression gave chills down his spine.

But Ming refused to back down. She unblinkingly returned the lady’s stare with her own, and it was as if a silent war had broken out. Ming wasn’t afraid of the red-haired fish with crow’s feet under her eyes. A wolf by marriage was hardly a wolf at all. She wasn’t going to be beaten in a battle of wills – not then, not ever.

Ned sat by his wife, wondering if Mei would bring war to his feet if his wife killed her beloved daughter. Meiling sat beside Lady Stark in rapt interest for the events unfolding. She always loved it when her little goblin decided to enact her idea of justice. She loved it even more when she took charge.

After what seemed like hours, Lady Stark conceded to the girl as she returned to her meal. Ming turned to Jon with bright stars in her clever eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you?” she asked with a broad smile. “I’m invincible.”

Since then, Jon has always included every time a feast was held for the YiTish women. An act of genuine kindness that was appreciated by all of Jon’s siblings and his father.

An act that only deepened the infatuation of a confident young wolf with dark auburn curls and bright blue eyes.

An infatuation that the Gods saw morph into obsession as they felt shivers course through their divine forms in anticipation of the future ahead.

*Additional Notes:

The characters from Yi Ti and other countries in this stories will different ways of how they are referred

Míng Yīn's Nicknames and Who uses them:

Ming - Robb, Theon, Jon, Sansa, and Catelyn Stark

Minna - Ned (he is the only one allowed)

Míng Yīn - Luwin

Minnie - Shireen, Rickon, Arya, Bran

Měilíng's Nicknames and Who uses them:

Mei - Robert, Ned, Renly, and Stannis

Translations:

希希 (XīXī) - Hope Hope; 希 means "hope"; Shireen's name in Chinese is written as 希琳 (Xī lín), in which 希 means "hope," and 琳 means "forest." Because Steffard is a baby who grew up hearing Yi Tish and Westerosi Common, it makes sense he would refer to Shireen with a nickname.

小希 (Xiǎo xī ) - Little Hope; another nickname for Shireen, but specifically from her older sister. Míng Yīn is a girl who is thousands of miles away from her hometown, Wan, in Yi Ti. When her mother married Stannis, she had to leave everyone she ever loved, including her older brother. But seeing baby Shireen have her hope that everything would turn out for the better.

明阴 (Míng Yīn) - 明 means "bright," and 阴 is the character used for "yin" in the Chinese philosophy of "yin and yang". The character's direct translation is "negative," but it is also used to describe "femininity, moon, water, and earth" as it represents the female principle of the universe

笨蛋 (Bèndàn) - Fool or dumbass; 笨 means "fool," while 蛋 means "egg." Technically, the direct translation is "foolish egg," but most people will use it to call someone an idiot.

无牙 (Wú yá) - toothless; 无 means "none," while 牙 means "tooth"; Míng Yīn named him this because when she first found him as a cub, he didn't have any teeth.

杀手 (Shāshǒu) - killer; this is Shadow's actual name; Shadow is a Peregrine Falcon

Tagging: @succnfuccubus, @valeskafics, @arcielee, @anya-snow, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @jamera-ash, @lillian-morningstar, @strangedragonqueen, @writingsofwesteros, @a-libra-writes, @leonkennedyslefthand, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @hd-junglebook, @what-the--curtains, @axelsagewrites

#stannis baratheon x reader #stannis baratheon x oc #stannis baratheon #stannis the mannis #robb stark x reader #robb stark x oc #yi ti #yi ti oc #margaery tyrell x oc #margaery tyrell x reader #shireen baratheon #shireen baratheon x rickon stark #shireen x rickon #theon greyjoy #theon greyjoy & reader #jon snow & reader #jon snow & oc #theon greyjoy & oc #ned stark & oc #robb stark #got x reader #game of thrones x reader #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf x reader #got imagine #game of thrones imagines

[julessworldd]

Queen of the North- Robb Stark x Tyrell!OC

A/n: I haven’t wrote in so long so I’m sorry if it sucks. I just wanted to see if I could still write. Tyrell!reader/Oc, I’m seeing a mix of Margery and Alicent when I wrote this. More of Alicent since i described her with auburn curly hair and dressed in her green some. But feel free to have your faceclaim :) I apologize in advance if the smut is too porn like or like a 13 year old Wattpad.

Warning: p in v, fingering, pussy slapping, mention of female masturbating, meandom! Robb. Squirting, overstimulation. Unprotected sex(Wrap it before you tap it). Stabbing, wreck, death/grief, depression, mention of SA, pregnancy(trying)

Tags: @valeskafics @foxyanon @angelwonie had to tag my fellow Robb lovers 🫶🏻

Lydia couldn’t sleep, the camp was still awake and thriving, Margarey’s snores were loud. Margarey swore she didn’t snore but Lydia knew that wasn’t true. Deciding she couldn’t sleep she got out of bed. Pulled on her green robe and walked out of the tent. The bannermen were drinking around fires, laughing, some had women on their laps as they forgot about the war. Nobody even noticed Lydia walking away as she sighed.

Robb couldn’t sleep either, he had too much on his mind. Avenging his father, getting his sisters back to Winterfell, taking the north’s independence back. All at 16 years old, a few months ago he was helping Bran with his bow and arrow, laughing with Jon and Theon. He wasn’t expecting anyone to be on this walk with him. Hearing some branches snap he pulled out his sword and called out to the sound.

“I said who's there?” Robb held his sword high and proud.

Lydia turned around as she looked up at Robb who had his sword pointed at her, “It’s just me”

Robb put his sword back in his side holster and smiled, “Margarey?”

“No. Lydia” Lydia giggled at the young King’s mistake

“My apologies, lady. What are you doing out of your tent? It’s late” Robb asked

“Couldn’t sleep” Lydia said

“Come, I’ll walk you back to your tent. It’s too dangerous for you to be out here with a guard” Robb held her bicep gently in his hands

“I can handle my own. I’m not a damsel in distress, your Grace” Lydia sighed

“I’m sure you’re not but let me take you back to bed. A war camp isn’t a place for ladies” Robb said walking back towards her tent

“Your war interrupted my fathers tour, I apologize for being a inconvenience for you” Lydia scoffed

“Even so, you need to be in a tent with a guard for you and your sister. Where’s your mother? With your father?” Robb asked

“She passed when I was 13, your Grace” Lydia said

“I’m sorry for your loss, my lady. Don’t call me your Grace when it’s just us” Robb smiled

“Then don’t call me your lady” Lydia smirked as she held his hand

Robb got Lydia into her tent without being caught by anyone. He smiled as he watched her crawl into bed before walking to his own. The next morning he was riding to Kings landing for his father, his sisters, the Stark name and for the people. King Joffery and Queen Regent Ceresi would be no more. Along with every gold haired he found in the red keep. He was determined the North would only know one king and his name is Stark.

He was fixing his armor when he saw a glimpse of auburn hair and vanilla and rose perfume hit his nose. He looked up to see Lydia. She was even more breathtaking in the sunlight, her hair was glowing practically. Her green dress hugged her waist and made her body pop. The sleeves were green and gold with flowers. It was cut some to give the illusion of her breasts in the corset.

“Lydia, you look beautiful today” Robb smiled.

“Thank you! I uh wanted to see you off before you leave” Lydia blushed. She wasn’t as easy going as her older sister. Men scared her, she couldn’t flirt like Margarey and have them in her hands. She left her chest filled with pain.

“Awfully kind of you, Lydia. I appreciate your support and your family’s bannermen and gold. But I must be going now” Robb said as he held the hilt of his sword.

“Wait!” Lydia grabbed his wrist before he could walk off even further.

Robb looked at her hand and then to her green eyes “Lydia”

Lydia took a deep breath and closed her eyes to get composure. She opened her eyes and grabbed Robb’s jaw as she kissed his cheek. Robb gasped in shock as he felt her soft plump lips on his beard and cheek, “Good luck, my king” Lydia smiled sweetly.

“Th- thank you, Lydia. I’m sure to repay you for the luck, I’ll bring you back something from the soon to be dead queen” Robb held her hand

“Okay. Nothing with a lion, I don’t want anything that reminds me of those blond bastards” Lydia said without realizing what she said. Robb grinned and laughed when he heard her request.

“Noted my lady. Take care of yourself, little rose” Robb smiled “I should be commanding on my horse now. My lady” he nodded before walking off.

A year later

Robb had killed the Lannisters for good, his men raided the keep finding stuff to take. Robb found Lydia a nice necklace with some lilacs wrapped in sliver metal. The north was now an independent Kingdom and Stark ruled them. Since he left and came back, the Tyrells had suffered tragedy after tragedy. Margarey was set to marry a lord around the storm lands. Loras accompanied her as they traveled, one night a bad storm hit. The carriage had lost control and flipped, some men found them. Margarey was killed but not from the wreck, she was still alive. She was stabbed multiple times in her stomach, the men thought she was pregnant. Loras was dead from the impact. A villager found them the next morning and found a maester to send a raven to the Tyrell family.

Lydia’s heart broke as she ran into her chambers crying as she flung herself on her bed. She let out a gut chilling scream as she cried for her late brother and sister. She went to the viewing and threw up seeing her dead siblings like that. She refused to come out of her chambers. Meals were brought to her, the maidens gave her baths in her room, books were brought to her. She slept and slept then she would wake up screaming. Her father had the maesters fill her up with milk of the poppy. She wasn’t the same Lydia that kissed the king of the north and told him to bring her gift from the red keep. She was a shell.

Present time

Robb was delight when he got the invitation for Lydia’s 18th nameday celebration. He had missed the green eyed beauty, but being king was busier than what he thought. His hand was on him about finding a wife to have to produce heirs. Robb wasn’t interested in throwing a wife and queen into the mix right now. The carriage stopped and Robb was greeted by Lord Wilem Tyrell and Lady Olenna. He asked to see Lydia and the guard took him to her chambers. Even the guard was hesitant to take him to Lydia’s chambers. Lydia had became mean and feral, she yell at the handmaidens, throw things at them and anyone else that came near her. She practically lived under the blankets on her bed.

“Your Grace” the guard nodded as he held the door open for Robb

****

“My lady?” Robb asked as he closed the door behind him

“Go away, Talia! Gods you’re annoying!” Lydia sighed from her mountain of blankets

“Lydia” Robb said

“I’ve lost myself to madness, I’m hearing shit now” Lydia cried

“No. You haven’t, it’s me. Robb” Robb said gently removing the blanket. Lydia moved to find a dagger she had in bed and had in hand as Robb grabbed her ankle

“No! No! Leave me alone!” Lydia swung the dagger in front of her as Robb held his hands up

“It’s okay Lydia. I won’t hurt you I promise. I come to visit you” Robb said gently

“Robb” Lydia whined as she cuddled a pillow crying

Robb crawled into bed and gently pulled Lydia into his chest “Shh! Robb has you,

I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you. Oh Lydia what happened?”

“Everything” Lydia cried as she hugged Robb back “Margarey and Loras are dead. I got touched by a maid in a way i didn’t want. I slept all the time. I think I lost my mind”

“A maid? Lydia what are you talking about?” Robb asked as he petted her auburn hair

“She tried touching me like a man would his wife. That’s why I stabbed her but nobody believes me. They think I stabbed her because I’ve been screaming and crying for months. My father keeps me locked up and drunk off of Milk of the poppy” Lydia said

“Shhh shh, it’s okay. I won’t let anyone else hurt you, my love” Robb said

“You love me?” Lydia asked innocently as she looked up from her lashes

“Yes I do. I want to ask your father your hand, you’re going to be my queen” Robb smiled

“They say I’m crazy and you won’t want me” Lydia sighed

“I want you as mine. I want you all the time. No one else will be a better queen and wife than you. You are my queen” Robb said brushing some hair out of her face.

“I love you” Lydia said

“I know. I love you too my queen” Robb looked at her and smiled

“Kiss me” Lydia said

Robb kissed as he held her jaw in his hand as he tasted mint and felt the plumpness of her lips.

Lydia pulled away from Robb needing air as he took hers away “I want you to be my first. If my father says no I at least want us to have this moment”

“Lydia” Robb said

“Please! All I want you is to make love to me tonight. I need you” Lydia whined.

“Okay. I can grant you that and your father saying yes. Every father wants their daughter to queen” Robb smirked

Lydia grinned as she took the sheet from herself as she sat on her knees. Her pale curves and breasts were exposed to Robb as he looked at her. She took her hair out of the braid, her auburn curls falling around her body. Robb thought he was in the Seven heavens as he seen her body. He wasn’t expecting her to be naked in front of him.

“Take off your clothes” Lydia looked him up and down as she laid back with her legs spread open.

Robb grabbed her by her chin and kissed her as he took off his fur that was clipped around his neck. Lydia whined as she watched him undress more and more. He stepped out of his pants and Lydia looked at him in shock. The gods had blessed Robb with muscles, a nice chest with hair and a thick and beautiful manhood. Lydia wasn’t sure he could fit all the way in her, she was tiny and Robb was almost a foot taller than her. The thought of him squeezing into her, made her clench her milky thighs together.

Robb grinned as he pushed Lydia on the bed “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, Lydia?”

“It won’t fit and looks like it will hurt me. I never been with a man” Lydia blushed.

“Shh, I’ll make sure it won’t hurt my queen” Robb said as he ran his fingers over nipples, pinching the left one.

Lydia gasped “Robb”

Robb grinned as he rubbed her stomach and hips “I know pretty girl. It’s okay” Robb’s fingers ran between her folds.

Lydia bucked her hips up “You never once touched yourself? Middle of the night, fingering yourself mhm?” Robb asked

“Gods! Touch me please” Lydia whined bucking her hips back on his fingers that curled in her.

“Answer me, Lydia. I’ll leave you desperate and marry someone else. Now have you fingered yourself before or I am the only one?” Robb slapped her pussy, making her jump.

“Fuck! Only you. No I did once but i didn’t put them inside” Lydia gasped.

“Did you play with the wetness and make your clit tingly?” Robb asked as he rubbed her clit in fast circles.

“Oh Gods! Yes but never felt the way I do when you’re doing it” Lydia gasped as she tried moving Robb’s hand. But he pinned her hands down with his free one.

“Poor thing is all hot and bothered. Needed a king to come make her cum” Robb smirked as he rammed his fingers back in her

“Mhm. Robb please let me cum, I’ve been good” Lydia whined as she pouted her lip at the king above her.

“Okay. Let go, soak my fingers like a good queen” Robb said as he rubbed her clit more making her hips buck.

Robb didn’t give her time as he had his head buried between her thighs. Rubbing his nose on her puffy pearl as he lapped at her core. It didn’t take Robb long to have her shaking in pleasure again. He went straight in before she could finish cumming the first time. “Oh fuck! Robb don’t stop. Don’t” Lydia threw her head back as she wiggled against the mattress and Robb’s skilled tongue. Robb kept going as he ate her pussy like a god, Lydia whined louder as Robb tried drinking her juices like a mad man on his last meal.

“Robb! Why does this one hurt? Wait ro-“ Lydia panicked, . “Robb!” Lydia screamed as she squirted in the air. Robb still didn’t come up as he wanted to get as much of her wetness as he could. Lydia was a whining mess as Robb came up gently slapping her pussy and clit. “Didn’t think you had it in you to do that, my good little queen”

“I’m sorry for that. Gods your face is dripping” Lydia blushed.

“Don’t be. We’re definitely seeing if you can do that again. Such a pretty pussy for a pretty queen”

Robb smirked as he kissed Lydia, rubbing her hips.

“Are you gonna?” Lydia asked

“Am I what?” Robb asked “Gonna fuck you? Yes I am, you’re my queen”

Lydia looked up at you and nodded as she gave him permission to continue. Robb smirked as he flipped her into doggy, spanking her ass. Seeing her pussy all in the open for him made him crazy. He jerked her legs open as he rubbed his cock over her folds.

Robb grabbed Lydia’s hips as he pushed his thick cock as Lydia’s walls sucked him in, “Ah fuck! Sucking me in like a whore, such a good pussy”

Lydia whined as she backed herself on his cock and finished bringing him in as her walls accepted him. Lydia was face down the middle of the bed as she felt her breast starch across the mattress. Her nipples were hard and red, she reached between her legs touching her clit. She whined as her fingers rubbed her clit to match Robb’s thrust “Fuck! You’re so big”

“You can take it, your pussy is made for me and me only. You understand? No man will ever be in you like I am. No man will ever be able to reach your stomach like I can” Robb moaned as he picked up the pace

“Only you. Your pussy!” Lydia whined

“That’s right! My pussy. My womb I’ll fill up with my babies. Only my babies!” Robb groaned. “Come on sweet girl, I know you’re close”

Lydia saw black as she screamed Robb’s name and felt herself squirting again. It coated her stomach and pussy as Robb pulled out. His thick white cum hit her pussy lips as he rubbed his dick over it. Robb collected the cum between them and pushed his fingers in her worn out hole. “Mhm. Robb m’sore”

“I’m just making sure my cum stays in you during the night my queen” Robb said as he plugged her weeping hole.

“M’love you” Lydia sighed as she laid on her back “I want your babies, I want your cock every night”

“You will, my queen. As your king I promise you that” Robb smiled as he brought Lydia to chest “You did so good”

********

Lydia was watching the people as they danced, drinked, laughed together in the crowd. It was her 19th nameday, a year after her and Robb married. Her blue dress complimented her pale skin as she paired it with silver earrings and a the illiac sliver necklace. She rubbed her stomach as she sighed watching the crowd. Lydia wanted Robb’s babies badly, a little human to take care of. Robb had his kingdom, his crown, the people loved him. She didn’t have anything, her grandmother and father died after she married Robb. Lydia felt so alone in this world anymore, sure she had Robb but it wasn’t enough for her. She needed more purpose than Queen.

“Only you would sad at your own nameday and wedding feast” Robb said as he sat beside of her.

“Not sad, just thinking” Lydia reached for his hand.

“What about, my queen?” Robb asked.

“I want a baby, Robb! We’ve been married for a year and I’m still not with child” Lydia sighed.

“Is this about Lady Mormont being 4 moons and only being married for 2 moons?” Robb asked.

Lydia looked down and sighed “No”

“Lying to a king is treason, Lydie” Robb said rubbing her back

“I don’t get it. Why do the Gods do not want me to be with your child? We slept together before we got married, seven hells we should be celebrating our child’s first nameday” Lydia said growing into frustration

“It will happen, my love. You’re not relaxed and it probably doesn’t help you’re stressed. I’m not sure as I am king not a maester, but it will happen. By this time next year you’ll be cuddling our baby by the fire in our chambers. If I have to have Theon lock us in our chambers and throw away the key. Until you’re with child then I will” Robb rubbed her leg as he kissed her cheek.

“Or I’m cursed. My siblings are dead, my parents, my grandparents are too. I’m the only living Tyrell and I’m beginning to think I won’t be. I won’t be able to give you an heir like you need me to” Lydia said trying not cry

“Lydie, you’re not cursed. I don’t know why the gods have thrown you into tragedy these past years. I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you I promise you as your king and husband” Robb said “Now come”

“Where?” Lydia asked

“Are you questioning the King’s word, my lady wife?” Robb cocked his eyebrow.

“N- no no” Lydia said standing up “He can take me wherever he pleases”

“Please calm down, my queen. I just want to dance with my wife. Is that okay?” Robb smiled

“Yes you can have this dance” Lydia giggled

“So many woman are dying to dance with me but I told them no. I only dance with one woman and she is queen of the north and my heart” Robb pulled Lydia into his chest as he lead her with his hand on her waist.

“Queen of your heart? Now you’re just being too doppy now” Lydia smiled

“Just dance with me and forget about our duties and people. That’s an order, Queen of the north” Robb said as he kissed her cheek.

“As you wish, king of the north” Lydia smiled.

#robb stark x tyrell!reader #robb stark fanfic #robb stark x reader #robb stark imagine

[spxllcxstxr]

• Game of Thrones Masterlist •

Do not repost my works. Do not translate my works without asking.

Requests: Open

Sandor Clegane

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[theredquill]

MY ASOIAF OCS ( FEAT THE SEVEN GODS )

1. You pray to the Father for justice: leada tyrell 
2. You pray to the Smith for protection: cassandra algood 
3. You pray to the Warrior for courage : aryana stark 
4. You pray to the Mother for mercy: aemma velaryon 
5. You pray to the Maiden for beauty: marysa manderly 
6. You pray to the Crone for wisdom : lainey hightower 
7. You do not pray to the Stranger, because the Stranger is death : heistia umber

#asoiaf oc #house manderly #ocs #asoiaf fanfic #oc: marysa manderly #oc: leada tyrell #oc: cassandra algood #theon greyjoy x oc #robb stark fanfic #robb stark x oc #oc: aemma velaryon #oc: laney hightower #bran stark x oc #jon snow x oc #got fanfiction #theon greyjoy x reader #oc: heistia umber #hotd oc #hotd fanfic #aegon ii x oc

[appleanon]

Fandoms/Characters I write for:

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid

Emily Prentiss

Game of Thrones

Sansa Stark

Oberyn Martell

Margaery Tyrell

Robb Stark

Star Wars

Din Djarin

Obi-Wan Kenobi

FNAF

William Afton

Michael Afton

MCYT

Wilbur Soot and his variations (argbur, simpbur, etc.)

Marvel

Wanda Maximoff

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Stranger Things

Steve Harrington

Robin Buckly

Rules

MINORS DNI. This blog is strictly 18+, any and all minors need to KEEP AWAY. Anyone without their age in their bio will be banned.

What I will write:

SFW

NSFW

Fluff

Angst (although I'm lowkey shit at writing it)

Daddy/Mommy kink

Choking

Somnophilia

AFAB, fem!reader, and gn!reader

Most AU's

There's more, but the gist of it is I'll write most of what is not on the do not write

What I will NOT write:

SA

Necrophilia

Piss/scat kink

Beastiality

Incest

Feet kink

Pedo/age play

AMAB, I'm not AMAB and it wouldn't feel right for me to write for it

Any questions? Send in an ask!

#steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wilbur soot x reader #simpbur x reader #argbur x reader #william afton x reader #michael afton x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandolorian x reader #obi wan x reader #sansa stark x reader #robb stark x reader #oberyn martel x reader #margaery tyrell x reader #spencer reid x reader #emily prentiss x reader #steve harrington x reader #robin buckley x reader