and the theon feels continue

Episode 6 was such a stone-cold disappointment that I approached the finale with trepidation, and found myself pleasantly surprised. I feel particularly vindicated in my continuing support for Theon Greyjoy. I had faith that he would pull himself together and gather the courage to rescue his sister, and I’m beyond thrilled to see that faith justified. His scene with Jon Snow was one of the most beautiful moments in the series so far, and while Kit Harington did a fine job, **Alfie Allen continues to bless us with phenomenal performances that are, above all else, immersive and honest**. I’ve never believed a character more than I believe Theon Greyjoy.
— panel discussion on Game of Thrones season 7 finale

Title: Acrimony
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Word Count: 1,100
Characters: Robb Stark x Reader
Reader Gender: Female
Warnings: Anger, making out
Notes: Request from anon for “Could you do a Game of Thrones imagine with Rob Stark? Where you gone of his Bannerman’s daughters and are more inclined to fighting, so you get rather close to him at times and end up arguing about what a proper lady should do and such. ‘If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you wanted me.’” // I omitted the part about “arguing about what a proper lady should do” because I just don’t really feel like Robb would do that. He strikes me as the type to not particularly care how traditionally ladylike a woman is, as long as she’s kind. // Set before the Battle of the Green Fork, in which Lord Hornwood dies, and prior to when Robb agrees to marry a Frey. Just in case anyone wanted to get technical with me. ;)

Originally posted by ladysanzastark

       Lady Y/N Hornwood liked to think of herself as a fairly easy-going individual. She always tried to get along with everyone – well, everyone who wasn’t an enemy. However, there was one person whom she desperately wished would take a long walk off a short pier. And, unfortunately for her, that was the same man her House had sworn fealty to: Robb Stark, the man who had been deemed King in the North – not that he deserved the title, if anyone asked her.
       “I had that Swyft soldier. You were only jealous that I’m a better fighter than you, so you stuck an arrow in him before I had a chance to kill him myself,” Robb said angrily as he and Y/N rode back from the battle, their horses trotting along side by side. He had a few cuts on his face and was covered in dirt and blood. She didn’t look much better, her hair a matted mess, and a deep gash on her arm.
       “If you weren’t so pompous, you’d be thanking me for saving your life. That man would have kicked your little ass,” she spat back, then gave a visibly fake smile and added, “Your grace.”
       “Oh, we’re keeping track of who’s saving whose life now, are we? You’re so busy trying to prove yourself by killing all of my opponents, you are incapable of watching your own back. I’ve saved your life more times than I can count, but you don’t see me gloating about it,” Robb retorted. Y/N opened her mouth to give a reply, but he cut her off, waving a hand and saying, “I don’t want to argue with you any more today, I’m exhausted. Just go to your father, or see if anyone needs your aid.”
       She shot him a glare before giving her horse a gentle kick in the sides and riding off. No one needed her assistance, so she returned to her tent, removed her armor, tended to her wound, bathed, and donned a comfortable dress. The sound of someone’s request to enter startled her a bit, drawing her from her own little world.
       “Come in,” Y/N called, and her father entered. He looked excited, which resulted in a quirked brow from his daughter. “What are you so happy about?”
       “We’ve won another battle, am I not allowed a smile?” Lord Halys Hornwood inquired, pouring himself a glass of wine and sitting at her table. She poured herself a glass and sat across from him and began braiding her hair.
       “I suppose you are,” she answered carefully. “Well then, what brings you to my tent, Father?”
       “The other reason I’m smiling,” he replied, then leaned forward on the table. “I’ve secured a marriage between you and the Young Wolf!”
       Y/N nearly ripped her hair out when her father’s words reached her ears.
       “You’ve what?!”
       “Robb Stark has agreed to marry you, my dear! In a fortnight, you’ll be Queen in the North!” Lord Halys declared gleefully.
       “Father, have you gone mad? The man despises me, you’ve surely gotten something wrong,” she insisted.
       “I assure you, I have not. I just left his tent from my meeting with him and Lady Catelyn. They agreed to the marriage, saying it’s a wonderful idea. You’ll be married in two week’s time,” he replied, then a sly smile appeared on his lips. “King Robb even admitted that he finds you to be incredibly beautiful.”
       “This has got to be a mistake,” Y/N muttered, standing and pacing a bit. She then stopped and decided she would simply go speak with Robb herself.
       “Where are you going, my dear? I know you’re eager to make an heir, but at least wait until your wedding night!” Lord Halys hollered, his booming laughter following her.
       Y/N flung open the curtain of Robb’s large tent in a fit of rage, not caring to ask permission beforehand. He looked up the table he was seated at, and a grin crossed his features – somewhere between a smirk and a genuine smile. Theon Greyjoy was standing next to him, and he immediately ceased speaking.
       “Feel free to continue, Theon. Lady Y/N will be my wife soon enough, it doesn’t matter if she hears our battle plans,” Robb said smoothly, crossing his arms over his chest. Theon said nothing, only walked over to Y/N, muttering, “You’re one lucky son of a bitch, Robb. There’s a very short list of what I wouldn’t give to see her without that dress.”
       Before Theon could react, Y/N slapped him hard across the cheek. He stumbled back a few steps, holding his hand against the now-red flesh.
       “There’s a nonexistent list of things I wouldn’t give to see that stupid look on your face after I slap you into next week, and oh – there it is,” she stated. Theon looked dumbfounded, at a loss for words for once in his life. She then turned to Robb, and saw that his smile had faded. “How about you stop your discussion on your battle plans for a moment, and let’s discuss your apparent plans to make my life Hell.”
       “Leave us, Theon,” Robb commanded, and Theon hastily exited the tent. Robb leaned back in his chair. “What exactly is the issue here, Lady Y/N?” he asked, then added with a smirk, “Most women would kill to marry me.”
       “Kill themselves, maybe,” Y/N huffed.
       “You know,” Robb began, standing and slowly walking over to her, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you want me.”
       Y/N laughed sharply, “You’re as arrogant as you are stupid.”
       “Is that so?”
       “So if I were to kiss you right now…” Robb inquired, leaning down so that his face was less than an inch from hers. Her breath caught in her throat as his lips brushed over hers. She could sense the warmth he radiated, feel the scratch of his beard against her skin, smell his scent, a mix of sweat, leather, and cologne – and then he pulled away. When she looked up at him, his smirk had grown. “You absolutely want me.”
       “Shut up,” Y/N spat, before grabbing him by the back of his neck and pulling him down to her, crashing her lips against his.
       The kiss was all lust, a clashing of teeth and tongues, paired with roaming hands on both sides. They didn’t stop until they became desperate for air, resting their foreheads against each other, breathing heavily.
       “I’ll see you in a fortnight,” Y/N stated, then left the tent without another word.