This Was Perfect The Writing, The Emotions I Love All Of It

This was perfect 🧡 the writing, the emotions I love all of it🥰

GOOD LOOKING.

+ . aegon ii targaryen x f!velaryon!reader

synopsis. after the infamous dinner scene, you seek refuge in the comforts of a place you once knew. aegon follows. it turns out a bastard and a drunk make for an interesting pair without the eyes of others and with a weakness within one another.

3 + . contents. no use of y/n or any variation. canon-typical violence. unhealthy relationships? canon/period-typical incest. angst? canon-divergent. hurt w/ comfort. fluff. blood mention. 3.3k words.

The evening air is cooling against your face, the hard galloping of the horse you ride atop of brings a whistling of winds in your ears. Hands still trembling in anger grasp the reins of the steed with a firm grasp so tight that angry red indents form on the insides of your palms. White moonlight bathes you, the glowing full moon in a clear deep blue sky bathes everything. From the hooves galloping against the soft grass to the beautiful bursts of colors in the form of flower bushes amongst the mess of large trees casting streaks of white light and plain deep green shrubs. You feel slightly suffocated. Despite the distance you’ve put between yourself and the Red Keep, between yourself and the bitter truth that’s been pulled up your throat like a hook and feels impossible to swallow back down again, it feels difficult to breathe.

Until you finally reach the beautiful clearing you know all too well. The horse comes to a stop at the edge of the expansive lake and a pale brown-blue, you pant softly with a face still warm in anger and you look around. Your slippers find purchase on the grass when you slide off of the saddle, a gentle hand smoothing over the black, shining coat of the beautiful horse. Already, serenity and peace ease into your muscles and throughout your nerves burned by the One-Eyed Cunt as you whisper a sweet word of gratitude and order to the beautiful steed before you turn away and begin to step towards a place you once felt as much home as that of the Keep or Dragonstone. Both of which feel so cold in comparison now.

Walking along the grass, you weave past stones and keep your gaze on the lake. Gentle hands reaching up, steadier than before, to unclasp the jewelry you adorn. Piece by piece comes off of you, finding home in the soft tufts of grass beside your slippers until they too come off. Your bare soles shift on the soft grass that’s cool and wet with dew from that of the lake. Sighing in bliss, your eyes flutter shut as your hands come up to undo the style of intricate detail in your locks. Already, your skin pebbles in anticipation of what the waters you’ve not touched for years may feel like again. When everything has been so loud and uncertain.

Cold air brushes across your skin, through your hair, and beneath the white shift you’re left in when the final piece of your clothing is discarded. A pile of high born on the grass to leave you nearly bare and as common as you’ve always selfishly and ungratefully wished for. It’s soothing, calming, to not feel expensive fabrics and the heavy material they are made of to the heavy jewelry and headache inducing hairstyle. There’s almost a smile on your lips as you walk forward and grass soon becomes the icy cold lick of lakewater against your bare feet.

Soon enough, nothing else exists but you and the lake. Submerging yourself into the cold waters and nearly moaning beneath them. The fabric of your white linen dress sticks to you, your body adoring the embrace of the water and a smile on your face bathed in droplets and the moonlight when you resurface and smooth your hair. In the evening air comes only the sound of your soft breaths, the sloshing of the water, and the crickets hidden in the bustles of grass and greenery. It feels like all that has transpired since setting foot back in King’s Landing and that horrid dinner has escaped. It feels as if you are finally untouchable, finally at peace.

“Well, you surely haven’t given up your uncomely behaviors.”

Then it’s swiftly shattered.

Slowly, you exhale in hot annoyance. Tension rises in your muscles and a warmth rises in your face and across your nerves. You turn around in the waters and see the face of none other than Aegon himself, your uncle and the only one unfortunate enough to know this place of solitude of yours. All because of a few moments of weakness you both had in your youths.

Aegon stands with a grin, releasing the reins of his horse and slowly stalking forward with his hands folding behind his back. A bad feeling settles into your stomach, not fear or even intimidation – but disgust and anger, glaring at him so hot the water could boil if you angled your eyes down. Chuckling to himself, no doubt already forming words of weapon along his tongue, you speak before he can again – doing nothing whatsoever to conceal your disdain or contempt.

“And you have not given up being a cunt.”

Immediately, he laughs, shaking his head to shake those silvery-white waves on his head as violet eyes screw shut in amusement. Pink lips relax into a crooked drop of a grin as he slowly steps forward on the grass. “Oh, such a foul mouth from a princess but what is to be expected after the Strong bastards became savages at supper?”,he pushes with an obvious contempt in his gaze as he stops at your pile of clothing.

Grinding your teeth and pushing towards the edge of the lake, you scoff and contemplate if you should drown him. “Smug cunt…”,you mutter under your breath before you shake your head and stand on the surface of the lake near the edge. The waters move, lapping at your navel as you glare at Aegon. “What are you doing here? I’d think you had enough wine to put you to sleep for quite sometime – one would wish permanently.”,you speak loudly, sharply as your eyes flicker along his features.

Those doe-like violet eyes hold no shame in taking in your body made obvious in the clinging, wet fabric. You ignore the remnants of what existed in a time before, they linger in the depths of your stomach as Aegon finally develops the courtesy to meet your eyes. That lazy, smug expression painting his face of fair porcelain. “I knew you would come here after that little display at supper. What uncle would I be if I allowed my niece to dangerously dip into cold waters with no protection?” The idea of him being a caring man, makes you laugh in a barking, snarky manner. He continues with an eye roll. “And I am wounded if you think three glasses of wine enough to put me to sleep.”

“One wishes.”,you remark swiftly before you shake your head and turn away,”Leave. I am fine on my own. Gods know you’re about as good with your sword as you are with holding that serpent tongue.”,you speak a bit louder to be heard while turned away.

For a few moments there’s a stretch of silence and you foolishly, naively, pray Aegon is simply going to accept your words. Unfortunately, he chuckles. “Tell me, niece.”,he begins and your eyes roll so hard it nearly hurts,”And what if you were to lose your clothes by some thief?” Stiffening immediately, you turn quickly in the water and Aegon grins while holding your clothes in his hands. Grinding your teeth, you quickly leave the waters, his loud laughter only working to make you all the more agitated.

Cold air brushes your body soaked in water, you shudder and swear beneath your breath until you reach Aegon. Snatching your things from him, you shake your head and grunt in annoyance. “Why must you be this way! All these years and you’ve not changed from the drunken, boorish, cunt of a man you have always been!”,you shout furiously while dropping your things to the side to keep them from being soaked in your embrace. Aegon’s eyes widen, those already round doe eyes growing bigger in your words. But you continue, regardless of his reaction shifting from shock to anger. “Always the jester, right? Always the insufferable cunt that I would not even let Vermithor eat less I taint the poor beast!”

“Has he not been tainted already by a bastard whore sitting atop him?”,Aegon immediately snaps, getting so close to you that his shoulder knocking yours forces a stumble back. But you catch yourself, looking up at Aegon with wide eyes and a furious sneer in the face of words pushed through you like arrows of Valyrian steel arrowtips. “You’ve not changed either – high and mighty in your belief of superiority because of your dragon, your demeanor as sincere as a fucking snake’s with a mouth as tainted as her cunt.”

Always Aegon. Always. Usually so patient and refined, what a princess should be, it always feels as if you’ve inhaled something toxic and poisonous when you even come close to the atmosphere of your uncle. Something that makes you quick to anger, irrational, furious – everything bad and yet remnants of what once was, stir in the depths of your stomach as your eyes burn between his and hand twitches at your side. You’re trying to keep your patience, to not let him see how badly he’s pushed you and to not begin what will always end the same as you scoff and step back. Your eyes are searing into his face of anger.

“Fuck you.”,you spit, shoving past him.

“Yes, go on then, princess. Back to your bastard brothers and whore mo–”

The slap that ripples through the air stings your hand hot and jerks Aegon’s face to the side. Panting heavily, your wide, angry eyes look along his features with a heavy chest. Then you hit the ground when a rough shove sends you down.

“You bitch–”

“Get off of me!”

Loud shouting and arguing fills the air as Aegon falls down to straddle your lap, your kicking doing nothing and the hits of your hands and arms only doing so much. It isn’t until you land a punch across Aegon’s face that the hot, tense, and violent atmosphere shifts. Shifting when Aegon turns sharply to look down at you and a droplet of blood from his nose drips down onto your face.

You flinch at the warm droplet and your eyes widen as you look up into his violet eyes. Both of you pant heavily, Aegon’s left hand pinning down your wrist while his other presses to his face. Your hand not restrained is still clenched in a fist against your chest. Panting heavily, your brows twitch as more droplets spill where his hand shifts to hold his nose. Aegon’s violet eyes flicker along your features, his white brows furrowing slowly as he rubs at the underside of his nose with his sleeve then slowly sits up and releases your wrist. For a few moments, you expect retaliation in a hit or some sort of impact.

But Aegon simply pushes off of you with a hot scoff.

Slowly, you sit up and look up at him. Only allowing yourself two seconds before you scoff yourself and get up, gathering your clothes.

“It is so like you to ruin something good…”,you mutter angrily while frustratingly tugging up the garments.

Aegon is silent, unnervingly so. Then he isn’t.

“I’m aware, niece.”

Pausing, you turn and look at him as he holds his nose, face smeared in blood and hand the same. Seeing the blood stain his skin makes your jaw tighten, some horrid remnants of what you once held for him bringing about guilt in your stomach. This place once one of solace for not just you but him eventually, solace away from the crown in empty talks of fleeing and finding home someplace else to never be seen again. You shift your teeth and you hesitate before you sigh, anger still trembling in your veins and breathing still slightly heavy as you walk past Aegon. But your hand catches his index and middle finger wrapped in your fingers, guiding him to the edge of the lake.

Aegon follows slowly and when you sit down in your loose garments, he follows with violet eyes burning into you but his body more relaxed and at ease. You kneel in the grass and rip at your shift, ripping the soft white linen sleeve and dipping the fabric into the water before you turn. Aegon’s face begins to begrudgingly soften as you cup his jaw and clean the blood from his face with the cloth staining red. Droplets still roll down your nose and cheeks from your wet hair and hairline. Your uncle only some years your senior watches you.

Then he breaks the silence when you sweep the cloth along his chin.

“You still hit like a brutish man.”,he speaks, uncharacteristically quiet and soft.

This would bring an amused smile on your lips in any other case, but your soul and mouth is so bittered of Aegon you can only muster a gentle curl of the corner of your lips. “You still fight like a girl.”,you reply. Aegon seems more inclined to an ease, his pink lips smiling a bit as you lift his jaw to get the splashes of dark blood beneath it. Then you shake your head and exhale softly, brows furrowing in anger at him. Both from the depths of your soul and an obligation to your brothers and mother. When you release his face, you dip the cloth and take his hand covered in blood.

“I still come here.”,Aegon breaks the silence. Your movements pause for a moment, eyes flickering up to look into his doe-like violet eyes. Aegon nods, his violet eyes watching your hand clean the already drying and smearing blood. Then they shift and you blink, following his gaze to a slab of stone. In the moonlight, you can just make out glasses spilled about and bottles the same. Something aches in your chest and you turn back to his hand, your movements quickening just a bit.

His unusual softness feels as if things may take a turn. You don’t want them to. Out of fear that you’ll be unable to offer sentiments in return. And fear that you will.

“You’re drunk, uncle.”

“Three glasses.”

“Perhaps your tolerance has–”

“You’ve become quite a princess.”

Stopping your movements on his hand, you shake your head and you look to his eyes focusing in on you. Soft and slightly glassy.

“Aegon. Please stop.”,your voice is firm, brows furrowing together and lips in a thin line, hand fisting around the bloody torn cloth. Aegon’s violent eyes flicker between yours and he shakes his head, he leans in close and you’re unable to push him away or stop him – out of weakness internal not external – when his arms wrap around your waist. His presses his face into the center of your breasts and exhales shakily. You stiffen up and grind your teeth, looking up to the sky. “Oh…Aegon…”,you exhale shakily, dropping the cloth in the grass to cradle his head against your chest.

He immediately sighs, shaky and slightly broken. Then he swallows thickly. “You hate me?”,Aegon mutters against your chest.

You, sincerely and honestly, nod. “How could I not?”,you breathe, your chest aching and stomach twisting. “You hate me just the same do you not?”

Aegon nods without hesitation. “I wish for your death earnestly. I believe it’s the only time I pray.” Your brows sew up and you nod, then his hands bunch in the fabric of your gown dampened by that of the dress beneath. There’s a lull of silence, your breathing, his, the whistling wind and distant crickets. Then he exhales and nods. “Do you wonder how different we could have been had we been married against the wishes of my mother and wants of your own?” Your chest clenches and your eyes screw shut, your hand gently smoothes through his silvery locks. “I believe I would’ve been a good man.”

“Or I a caged bird.”,you reply softly, not willing to admit you don’t think of it from time to time but not willing to lie either.

He hums, then he sighs and shakes his head. “I would have been a good husband to you, I could have been. I was good before, wasn't I?” And Aegon slowly pulls his head back, you look down at him as those violet eyes gaze up at you. He exhales shakily despite the obvious attempt he’s holding to remain hardened. “Before all that transpired…before the words of my mother – before the crown…”,Aegon trails off. As if it’s too painful to even reiterate or discuss all the various ways a family was torn in half.

The way you and him were torn in half.

Your eyes flicker across his face, you nod with a weak smile. “You still could have been great, Aegon…”,you’re almost breathless in soft whispers, throat suddenly full and words thick. A stinging shifting your nose and bringing the matching glass appearance to your eyes that Aegon’s harbor. “You could still be good, great…it isn’t too late.” And Aegon shakes his head, he exhales deeply.

“I do not care for it if it is not for you…before you…I suppose it proves how horrendous I truly am.”,he bitterly remarks. Your brows furrow and he shakes his head as he looks across your features. “I believe this hate will exist and rot out my insides for as long as the poison lives. Until…Until my father and mother pass on. You’re a bastard – whether I love you or not the fact remains such and I am…well I am worse.”

Aegon’s words make your heart bleed, ache, it makes all of you heavier and more exhausted with that of the crown and all expectations. Screwing your eyes shut, you shake your head and lean down to meet his forehead with your own.

“Mayhaps once my mother takes the throne…death will not be needed. Perhaps all we might need is our dragons.”,you whisper softly, his body shifting to sit up. Not disconnecting your foreheads but rather taking your cheeks in his cold hands.

He shakes his head. “Naath.”

“The palm trees.”,you whisper softly, words of naive youth before being broken by a missing eye and final word of a forbidden swear fill the air.

He smiles just a bit. “The butterflies.” You smile a bit and you exhale shakily, when he leans in, you feel his lips brush your own. Your body urges you forward, but your head and soul know better.

Then you slowly tilt your head back and away from him, his hands slip so his thumbs rest together against your chin. Looking into his eyes, Aegon nods and you shake your head. “I refuse to kiss you when you taste of wine…you know this…”,you hum as you reach up and gently hold his wrists. Thumbs stroking his pulse points.

Aegon hesitates before he parts his lips and shuts them, then he opens them and he exhales deeply. “Return on dragonback on the morrow…you’ll find no wine.”,he promises without the words. Your eyes widen and lips part, Aegon nods eagerly and he holds your face just a bit tighter. “I–Perhaps you are right, when my half-sister sits upon the throne, mayhaps we will finally find solace. I hate you, you hate me but once all is settled and assured…we–we can be as we were, in Naath as we promised years ago.”

His words throw you off, your eyes wide and lips parted. Your heart aches and twists, but that familiar feeling once thought to be squashed rises slowly. A soft smile toys at the corner of your lips and Aegon smiles softly, his white brows sewn upwards. “I…will return on dragonback with my mother.”,you nod gently, your brows twitching.

“We grew to hate one another from love…we can grow to love again from hate…”,Aegon whispers softly, nodding firmly with dull eyes suddenly brighter,”Tomorrow.”

You smile softly and nod.

“Tomorrow.”

It seemed childhood naivety never left a bastard far too forgiving and a drunk far too insecure, because tomorrow would come but love would never bloom from hate. Not again.

I don't know why but everytime a Dragon starts from Dragonstone I just think wow that looks so cool. I want to do this so bad!!!

could you make a robb stark x baratheon reader where they grow up together as friends and were promised to each other, at the beginning reader thinks robb doesn't wanna marry her but then he tells her he loves her

if you could please add smut at the end (afab reader btw)

Robb Stark*Arranged

Pairing: arranged marriage!robb stark x princess!reader

Word count: 2272

Warnings: arranged marriage, anxiety, talks of running away, making out, (smut in part two but this is mostly wholesome), fluff

Masterlist here

A/N: sorry this (and everything else lol) has taken so long but part two with the smut will be up in the next couple of days :)

despite being a Baratheon by blood, by title, and by name most days you felt more like a Stark than anything else. Your father had sent you up to the North on your eleventh name day to become a ward of Ned Stark as part of an alliance of sort. Marrying his eldest daughter to a well-respected and established house only strengthened your fathers claim.

It had benefits for you, well at least he told you all his reasons in the letters. You’d be safe under lord starks protection, able to grow up alongside Sansa Stark who was only a year younger than you, become the future lady of Winterfell, and most importantly, to you at least, marry your childhood crush.

Yes, that’s right from the time you met him at four, him being five, you were smittened. Your father had travelled north on business but also happened to attend the wedding of one of the northern lords. He and ned laughed loudly, clinking their glasses together, as they watched you force Robb to walk down a pretend aisle with you that Jon helped you set up with chairs.

Of course, it was just a silly crush. It’s not like four-year-olds understand what a wedding is. By the time you moved to the north at eleven it was just a fond memory of your fathers he would tell at dinner parties.

In the nicest way possible when you first arrived Robb didn’t even care you were there. He was twelve and running about with wooden swords to practise with Jon and Theon while you and Sansa would practise hairstyles in each other’s hair.

However, by fifteen something dreadful happened. You fancied him.

Sure, in theory it sounded great but there were so many awkward moments. After all you were only fifteen. You couldn’t help that your face went beat red when he gave you a necklace for your birthday and when he told you that you looked ‘pretty’ one day you could barely muster out a thank you, you were so shocked.

You did your best to shove it down and pretend everything was normal over the years, but the crush never went away. You got better at hiding it. you had to as you’d grown closer over the years. Since Sansa had no interest in horse riding you were left to go with the trio, as you called them, instead. It soon became one of your favourite past times and you quickly grew close with the three boys. Especially Robb.

You figured it was a good idea especially as the talks of your marriage began cropping up more frequently. Your parents started pushing you to go on chaperoned excursions to markets and walks through the gods’ woods. They had no clue, or at least pretended, about the unchaperoned ones. Often you disappeared into the gods wood for some peace or the fields behind Winterfell to race. Robb began to bring food in his satchel so your excursions could turn into late lunches in the few sunny days of Winterfell.

“I definitely won,” he grinned as he dismounted his horse.

“Yeah right,” you scoffed as you jumped down, “you cheated,”

“How?”

“You went before I said go!”

“It’s three, two, one, go on one,”

“No, it’s not. Its three, two, one, go,”

“As in go already I said one,”

“As in you’re a cheat,” you huffed as you sat down against a thick oak tree.

Robb laughed at your antics as he sat down beside you, pulling his satchel out, “Truce?” he offered as he pulled out a parcel of sandwiches.

You pretended to think it over before nodding, “Truce,” For a few moments you sat in silence eating the sandwiches before you finally decided to tell him the news that had been weighing over you for the past week. “My mother sent me a raven,”

“Oh?” Robb paused, mid bite with concern written on his face. Your father sent you letters on a weekly basis but so far, your mother had only sent three since you left. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, well, I think so. I’m not sure,” you paused for a moment before just blurting it out, “She’s coming next week. With a seamstress,” Robb stared at you confused, “For the wedding,”

“Oh,” the word shattered your heart. While you had become friends over the year neither one of you ever spoke about the impending nuptials. Sure, you wanted to marry him, but you were terrified. Not of marriage. He was a good man. He would treat you right whether he wanted this marriage or not. But that’s when the fear came in. what if Robb could never love you? “Aren’t most girls excited about fancy dresses?” he tried to joke, lighten the mood like he always did. Its what he always did whenever the wedding was brought up. Play it off, make a joke, laugh. It was all an awkward joke to him.

“I suppose, Sansa will be,” you laughed. She really had become like a sister to you over the years, “I suppose though this means it will be arranged soon,” you tried to look at him, but Robb just stared down at his food. “Unless we escape somehow,” you joked, copying his defence mechanism.

He looked up a smiled a little, “Quick you grab the horses, I’ll pack the bag. We’ll ride at dawn,” he joked.

“Imagine. Take all the back roads till we get to Riverrun,”

“Bribe the Frays into letting us cross,”

“Then straight down to Dorne,”

“Sounds like a plan,” he smiled, knocking his knee against yours. “Jon would never forgive me if I left him behind,”

“Him and Arya can come with. We’ll become sellswords,”

“Sounds like we’ve got it all planned out,”

-

When you returned to Winterfell Catelyn ran up to you both in a tizzy, “Where have you both been?” she whispers shouted, smiling at a passing lord before scouring, “A messenger from the king has arrived,”

You knew she meant well but your stomach dropped. you both followed her to the hall but soon the sorrowful look on your face was replaced by a grin, “Uncle Tyrion,” you rushed up to him immediately.

“Ah my favourite niece. Finally returned from some dingy pub I assume,” he joked though Cat couldn’t help but frown a little. They were both protective just in their own ways. “Don’t worry I’m not here to stay long. Just come down on your father’s behalf to organise the wedding. Speaking of, Lord Stark I do believe this is the first time we’ve met,” he extended a courteous nod to a very nervous looking Robb.

“Lord Tyrion,” he bowed.

“It goes without saying if you hurt my niece, I will have to have my men kill you,” he said, head tilting to the side making Robb gulp, “But other than that it’s lovely to meet you,” he grinned widely like a jester.

“Don’t tease him uncle,” you shook your head, but Tyrion just laughed, “I’d say you’ll get used to him, but no one has so far,”

“You’re so kind niece, truly,” he laughed, “Now onto business The king has organised his travels and shall be in Winterfell by the first of next month so we shall have to act swiftly,”

Panic set on all three of your faces. Though Robb and yours was far different than Catelyn’s. “My lord that’s awfully soon. We may not have the provisions to afford so many guests so soon- “

“No fear my lady. I was also sent with my father’s gold. No Lannister shall have anything less than a golden affair,” you could see the relief melt from Catelyn but yours was just setting in.

-

For the next three weeks every discussion you had was about the wedding. cakes, flowers, food, music, dresses, veils, and most daunting of all; organising the preparation for Robb’s and yours new chamber. Tyrion even sent a seamstress to your room to organise an outfit for your wedding night. It was all quickly becoming too much.

You’d barely even seen Robb since the planning began. There was no time to calm down and no one to remind you to breathe. That was his job. Whenever you got nervous, he would gently grab your wrist under the table, running his thumb over the back of your hand. But he was nowhere to be found.

You eventually managed to find Jon who told you Robb was under the same stresses. His mother had him arranging with traders and mingling with the growing number of lords appearing at Winterfell’s gates. “Suppose this is the stresses of being a lady,” Jon joked.

It was only then it hit you. Soon this whole castle would be yours to run. How would you ever have time to breathe let alone enjoy your husband’s company if he would even have you.

Despite missing your family, the night before their arrivals, you cried quietly in your chamber. Their arrival tomorrow only marked the three remaining days you had left as a maid. Perched on an open windows ledge, the cold air stung your cheek but at least as you watched the birds fly you could feel a little of their freedom.

Then there was a quiet but rapid knocking. The faint sound brought your attention to the door which was shut less than a second after it was opened. “Hey sorry I’ve not come sooner- “Robb’s voice entered the room, for some reason making your tears sting more. Robb shivered from the cold, “Why’s the window open? You’ll freeze princess,”

Robb rushed to your side, leaning past you to shut the glass to preserve what little heat he could. His confusion fell from his face when he saw your tears, “What’s the matter?” his voice was soft and tender as he sat across from you to hold your hands, his thumbs stroking over the back on them.

“I don’t know,” you lied in a whisper.

Robb knew. He always knew when you lied. He just nodded gently though. “I’ll start a fire,” he was on his feet again.

“I can fetch someone if you wish- “

“But I’m already here,” he teased as he knelt by the fireplace.

As he got to work in silence you padded across the floor. The stone floor felt like ice against your bare feet making you quicken your pace till you could sit on the small sofa in front of the fire Robb had started. “Easy, see,” he said, joining you on the couch, “We’ll get a heat in you,”

“Thanks,” you sniffled.

You sat in an easy silence though when you left out another sigh Robb was compelled to place an arm around your shoulder. You leant into his touch, your head rested on his shoulder and his on yours. A few moments passed before he spoke, “Jon said you were asking for me,”

You weren’t sure why you tensed, “I just worry sometimes,”

“I know,”

You couldn’t stand the next silence that followed so made a joke, “Thought you’d ran away,”

“Without you?” he said, pulling back to grin back at you, “Nah we have a deal princess. Say the word and I’ll get the horses,”

His smile made your stomach drop. It all felt like one big tease, “I thought,” you began to stutter, “You may have been running from me,”

Robb’s face fell, “Why would I do that?”

You sighed, turning to face the flames again as the tears threatened to spill, “It’s not like you chose this marriage. You weren’t exactly ever given the option. I wouldn’t blame you if you objected to it,” you muttered.

When he pulled away you could’ve sobbed but it was quickly replaced by confusion when he knelt in front of you, “Why would I object? all I desire is to be a good and faithful husband to you and may gods help me I will be. I wouldn’t desire another option if I was given a thousand,”

“Why?” you could feel venom briming in your voice, “Because my dowery? Because the king commanded it?”

The hurt on his face felt like a stab to the gut but his words only twisted the knife, “Because I love you,” he took your hands in his, “and I understand that you don’t feel that way for me and may never, but nothing will stop the way I- “

You didn’t even realise you’d moved till you pulled back from the kiss. Without thinking your lips had found his and now you stared into his eyes. It only lasted a second before Robb lusted forward, reconnecting the kiss into a messy, desperate thing.

As you felt him raise, you followed, standing to kiss him as his arms wrapped around your back, pulling you flush against him. Your hands rested on his shoulders, now fully able to appreciate his strength.

You wanted more but he pulled away, your lips chased his making Robb breathe out a laugh. “You’re something else,” he muttered, a grin on his face, “I can’t imagine not wanting to be with you,”

This time your arms tightened, burying your head into his neck as you hugged him close. Robb followed suit, his muscular arms keeping your warmer than the fire, “I feel the same way,” you eventually managed to stutter out, “But I- “

“You don’t have to say it,” he mumbled, kissing the top of your head, “I understand,”

“How did I get so lucky?” you pulled back to smile up at him.

He just smiled back, “I ask myself that each night,”

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@bdudette @mysunflowerspace @3lisia @sashadevil766 @lonely-girl2423 @qardasngan @cookielovesbook-akie @thirteenth-fangirl @ladygrimmx @hopelessromantic727 @carpinchootaku @ladtoffandoms @ladyoffandoms @catbusloki @certifiedhaters

Robb Stark Taglist

@kimm4710

oscar tully new official member of the "humble daemon the king CONSORT" club featuring alys rivers as president and rhaenys targaryen as founder

frater meus, you're beautifully made and to you i'm forever grateful

Claire Wyndham - Kingdome Fall