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WARNINGS: reader is a Velaryon with some Targaryen features but not an OC, this is just some story building there will be other parts. I just finished the books and I am obsessed with GOT wither way I was bored and this is the result so beware ... I think that's it. Also Theon is a pookie in this fic because I said so

PAIRING: fem!reader x Robb Stark (romantically), fem!reader x Jon Snow (platonically), fem!reader x Theon Greyjoy (platonically)

part 2

The cold wind still raged on, hitting the walls of Winterfell. Her room was one on the lower floors next to Jon's and Theon's rooms. The sunrays gently fell on her sleeping figure dragging her from her deep slumber. The fireplace was filled with ashes and the chill in her bones was reasonable. It might still be summer on the North, yet the occasional snow always drifted down from the dark grey clouds. A discreet knock pulled her out of her thoughts and Theon's irritated voice filled the room.

"If you are not in the courtyard in two minutes, I am ratting you out"

Like clock work the same words sounded the moment dawn greeted the North. It was a small routine they had formed two namedays ago. She covered herself in Robb's old furs, the ones he secretly gave to her and claimed he lost them. They had kept her warm for over six moon cycles, they had holes in several places and the edges were coming apart but it was her most prized possession. At first it smelled at him and she was always trying to bask in his scent, that was until Theon caught her smelling the neckline while wearing it and she wouldn't hear the end of it until she openly caught him staring longingly at Sansa.

Unfortunately, they were both in the same position, they wanted people they could never have, and only each other knew. They would drink together glasses of wine and they would stumble giggling around the castle. One time he had drunk so much that he composed atrocious poetry about the beauty of his lady Sansa and her copper hair and then about the Northern prince that fell in love with a girl that had mud brown hair adorned with streaks of silver grey and deep violet eyes that appeared dark blue in the right light. She knew that her appearance betrayed her ancestry the Targaryen blood that flowed in her Velaryon veins.

Her family had been brutally murdered, she had heard and read the tales of how her mother gave her life to protect her dark-haired girl and the bloody necklace that hugged her fathers throat. At the tender age of seven moon cycles her whole family had perished and she had been the only survivor. Ned Stark had found her in a bundle of fabrics crying her heart out and once he saw the sword that could have taken her head, he swore to protect her and take her in as his ward. She should have been grateful, she knew as much, he had given her everything, a warm house, plenty food, clothes and a loving family one she wasn't actually a part of and maybe that was the reason she was closer with Theon and Jon, the outsiders. It wasn't like she didn't like the Starks, she loved them to bits and yet she could never be one of them. She would be the squire under their Maesters care with her nose hidden in ancient books and scrolls, lost in maps and various languages and basic training as a healer. But her new passion was sword fighting. As a woman she had only been allowed to practice archery that she was quite good at and always betted with the boys around their performance.

And that was how Theon found himself at incredibly early hours with a wooden sword in his hand, frowning at drawings of fighting styles freezing his "balls" off. She had bested him at the fine art of combat at practically her fifth lesson in a few hits. She had a strategic mind and she was quick on her feet, the most perfect and most deadly combination that existed.

He pitted the man that would take her as his wife, because most men were incredibly controlling but there was no chance, she wouldn't get things her way. He was proof enough.

She had the three of them wrapped around her little finger from all those years back. She had grown up with them from when she was a babe, but at her seventh nameday her and the Maester left, since she was his squire, she had to follow him, he had taken her under his wing, she had practically been his daughter, the one he never had. At that day and several later they had cried so much that even Lady Stark was regretting her decision, she liked the girl enough, she had the tendency to wreak havoc and get lost in her books a bit too much, neglecting her chores and her lessons at needlepoint half the time, but she made her kids happy and she was too smart and witty for her own good that it was impossible not to have a sweet spot for the orphaned girl. She had been overjoyed when she learned about her return nine namedays afterwards. Her son, her calm and collected Robb was shuffling at his feet, nudging rocks around and toying with the hem of his cloak, the bastard and the Greyjoy ward were portraying similar behaviors and she had to control herself not to laugh at their antics.

Ned had pushed his son forth, claiming that it was around time he greeted their guests, he shot him a glare and his parented watched him as he wiped down his palms at his breeches and headed towards the carriage, his hand shook as he lightly grazed the handle and pulled the door open while staring into place, not ready to accept that his best friend might have changed. He was frozen in his place as a girl wearing a dark blue dress and heeled leather boots stood before him. She tilted her head to the right and only then did he notice her hair.

A knot at the back of her head that was a swirl of chocolate brown and silver white strands that framed her face beautifully. Her violet eyes hid a familiar mischief that he had dearly missed. She nodded at him, before facing his father and dropping into an elegant curtesy. It was as if he was on a trance, unable to tear his eyes from her form. It wasn't until he heard her voice, she was speaking in a language he didn't understand, yet he could recognize the bite on her tone. His father wore an amused smile as he answered her back. He would learn at the evening feast what had caused such reactions, the news almost swept him from his feet, his whole existence reduced to one word. Betrothed. Ever since then it was like they were walking on eggshells around her. All three of them longed for their missing link.

It wasn't until a few days latter when they invited her on a hunt that they could glimpse on what they were. They had found a boar and his in bushes only to lose their horses in the process. They had been walking for hours and all it took was an ill-fated joke from Jon.

"No. I do not love you. Of course I lied to you. Yes, it does make you look fat. No, I have never been in the Riverlands. It is pronounced Eyrie. And all of this pales to utter insignificance if we are to let ourselves be food for the hounds."

They had all been tired and snappy, making comments left and right and picking fun at her the way they used to. They had been waiting quite impatiently for her to snap back and the moment she did, loud laughter echoed in the woods. And just like that everything was back to the way it used to be.

Ever since then life seemed dreamy to Robb, he had his friends and his family all getting along and everything seemed perfect. But reality hit him hard each night knowing that the girl he fostered feelings for was promised to another.

WARNINGS: reader is a Velaryon with some Targaryen features but not an OC, this is just some story building there will be other parts. I just finished the books and I am obsessed with GOT wither way I was bored and this is the result so beware ... I think that's it. Also Theon is a pookie in this fic because I said so

PAIRING: fem!reader x Robb Stark (romantically), fem!reader x Jon Snow (platonically), fem!reader x Theon Greyjoy (platonically)

part 1

The King arrived at gloomy day, filled with dark grey clouds and thundering skies. An alliance was to happen by wedding, the heir of the Iron Throne, a snotty kid that as too proud and too arrogant was to wed his Sansa. Theon was a bundle of nerves and restless energy as he stood beside his Velaryon friend and puffed up his chest as Jon did to hide her from the eyes of the King. He was silently seething with anger and the only thing that lifted his mood was the jabs that she and Jon made about the royal family. Yet their tries to protect her were to no avail, as the Kings beady eyes focused on her. Really, she wasn't trying to go unnoticed, she had worn a bright red dress with black detailing, Targaryen colors and starred at him in the eyes smirking tauntingly. Robb was bitting his tongue to withheld a comment for her bold attitude and Lady Catelyn's eyes held an immense disapproval, the only one that enjoyed her antics was Ned that had chuckled when he had first seen her in the dress and he said that she should do something to make the silver in her hair more prominent.

Her undefined gaze was going to be haunting him until his last days. The babe he had tried to kill was staring back at him. He had been shocked to the core and the boys at her side to visibly restrain themselves from grabbing her, placing her somewhere away from him. It was too much.

At the dinner feast they hadn't been allowed to sit at their usual places, not fit to dine with the royals, yet they seemed to be having a blast, as Theon was a beetroot red and Jon was gaping at him like a fish and she had been laughing uncontrollably.

"That cannot possibly be true." Jon's exasperated voice whispered as he finally connected the dots. And she was singing under her breath "Theon and Sansa walking in the woods K I S S I N G." Eventually what had done it was a broken wineglass in Theon's hand as he watched the snotty kid stroke Sansa's hair.

"As if you are any better. Laughing at my face you prick. 'Oh, he is just so handsome, I want to have his babies."

"I never said that." She weakly defended herself.

"What? Who -?"

"Little miss perfect over here is head over heels for your brother."

"WHAT?" Jon's voice echoed in the room and he hastily apologized before gapping at her, as she cursed them both and asked them to be quiet. "That can't be true." With one look he could tell. "It is? Oh, seven hells, why are you both like this."

"It's the eyes alright?" They both claimed at the same time and then proceeded to glare at the other, practically promising bloody murder.

"Wait... is that why when you barged in like a bull while we were shaving you went bright red?"

"No" she answered with a small voice as Theon hissed "At least I kept up my part of the deal."

"What deal?" Jon question and regretted it immediately as they both exclaimed "nothing" with one voice.

"Well, at least I hide it better than you."

"As if! You are practically ogling him right now. I have finesse, whereas you are like a creepy maid."

"I didn't notice if it makes you feel better."

"Thank you, brother." Theon said appreciatingly as she muttered under her breath "You wouldn't notice a flying dragon over your head also." Small pieces of bread land on her as they attacked her and booed her comment. Her laughter quiet as she yielded.

"I will have you know. I notice a lot of things. Like did you know that Arya's maid is sleeping with a stableboy."

"Yeah. For years."

"Those are old news Snow."

"Bullshit. You are lying the lot of you."

"Oh, my dear gentle innocent Jon. Who do you think introduced them?" Theon said in a mimic of a seductive voice. "Sir Lover."

"Is that supposed to be you?"

"Obviously."

"Ha, Sir can't keep-it-in-his-pants more like."

"Or Sir too-lovestruck."

"Tease me all you like, my sweet haters. But I shall win my girl."

"Keep dreaming Greyjoy."