look at rickon

Wolf on a Leash

Hey all! This is the first little fic I’m writing in the GoT fandom and I’m super excited. Lemme know what you think pretty please? xxx

Pairing: Robb Stark x reader 

Summary: Robb mistakes the feeling he has for you as loathing. You mistake the returning feeling you have for Robb as disgust. After 16 some odd years of having to deal with the feuding that’s been going on between his eldest and you, Ned finally takes jurassic measures to put an end to it. 

Tags: AU where Jon Arryn doesn’t die and all of the Starks stay in Winterfell, Ned is a class A troll, Ayra’s a little shit, Stark family feels, fluff, humor, s l o w b u r n, angst at some point probably


Prologue 

Ned Stark is universally known for his wisdom and fair mind, his gentle but blunt ruling hand, his honorable intentions, his kind smile and sympathetic heart. But never in your entire time living with the Starks have you witnessed this level of fuckery.


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8

Stark kids + the classical elements (idea by celiatully)

5

Robb x Reader



Robb smiled and lent on the door frame as he watched you and Rickon sword fight with wooden swords. Rickon whooped as he almost made you drop the sword and scrambled onto his bed, dogging your retaliation with a wide grin.

 

“I am not one to ruin my brother’s fun but Lady Stark sent me to see how Rickon is settling down for the night.” Robb muttered after he cleared his throat.

 

“My apologies Milord, we got carried away.” You blushed and smiled at Robb when he chuckled.


“I won’t tell anyone, but he needs to rest we have a big day tomorrow.” Robb smiled as you ruffled Rickon’s hair and tucked the boy up.

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Jonsa S7 Summer Challenge - Day 2

day 2: celebration or nature

a/n: this time, i actually used the prompt properly. tho i’m still pushing it with the deadline. oops. @jonsa-creatives

still unbeta’d.

a prequel, of sorts, to this.

(jurassic world au)

He pinches the bridge of his nose, willing himself to count to ten, and hoping to forestall the incoming headache.

“Bran! Rickon!”

Jon sighs, walking up to the infuriating woman who seems hell-bent in driving him up the proverbial wall—or nearest tree, as may be the case here. He’s quick to muffle the next round of shouts by covering her mouth, risking retribution – oh he just knows she’ll get back at him for this.

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“Papa, look!  It’s snowing!”

“It is indeed.”

“Does that mean winter is coming at last?”

“Not just yet.  It’s still summer.”

“It’s been summer forever,” whines Osha.

“When I was a boy, summer lasted a full seven years,” Rickon says, running his hands through his daughter’s hair.  She is still quite small, and has her mother’s coloring of thick brown curls and a heart-shaped face.  But she has Rickon’s blue eyes.  My mother’s eyes.  Sometimes, when he closes his own, he can see her, the way she was before Bran fell.  Before she’d gone.

Osha’s hair is soft, and her curls are springy.   I swear that I’ll be around for you.  “Can we go outside and play, papa?”

“Finish your breakfast,” he says.  He glances at the door.  Serena has not yet risen, though even if she has, he may not know.  The maester told him that she may be having twins, and that she should remain in bed as long as she can.  So Rickon tends to their daughter at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, the way his mother once tended to him.  His father never had, but his father had been lord of Winterfell, and Robb had been older and in need of the lord’s attention, far more than baby Rickon needed his father.

Osha eats eagerly, and when she’s done, Rickon wipes her face with a napkin that he hands to the hovering nursemaid.  He finds a cloak lined with fur for her and fastens it under her chin, then takes her tiny hand in his great calloused one and leads her out into the lichyard.

The castle is still being built.  In retrospect, perhaps there had been no need to tear it stone from stone when Arya and her pack had thrown House Bolton into the sea.  Everyone still seemed to call it the Dreadfort, though only the great weirwood tree remained of the Bolton’s castle.  They should call you the Dreadstarks, Arya had japed, running her hand through Rickon’s hair as once Jon Snow had run his through hers, It will happen eventually if they call you the Dreadfort Starks, we may as well preempt the shift.  Rickon had forced a smile at his sister’s words.  

“Papa, come on!” Osha whines, tugging at his hand.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he says smiling down at her and lengthening his stride so that she can toddle along as quickly as she’d like through the lichyard.  Some of the workmen bow to him and Rickon nods to them, smiling.  

Osha leads him to the kennels, and Rickon feels a smile creep along his face.  “She’s still not ready for you,” he says.

“I know, but I want to make sure her bed is ready,” Osha insists.  Rickon shares a glance with the kennel master.  They go to the back of the kennel near where Shaggydog is lying, old and sleeping.  He’ll fade soon, Rickon is sure.  His fur is more grey than black, and his eyes are full of cataracts, and he whines when he stands because his hips are stiff.  Rickon runs his hand over the wolf’s head.  “Your great niece and nephew coming soon,” he whispers to Shaggy.  “Stay long enough for them, will you?”  Nymeria had only had one litter, and in that litter there’d been only one female.  And that female had whelped twice now, and in this second litter was a new wolf for him, and one for Osha as well.  

Osha is in the pen that will house the wolf pups when they arrive from Winterfell, rearranging blankets and moving straw about with her foot.  “What will you name her?” Rickon asks.  He asks every day, and every day meets with the same “I’m thinking,” that makes him smile.

Bran had teased that he’d better pick a better name than Shaggydog this time, but looking back at his old wolf, Rickon can’t think of anything better than Shaggy.  The only thing that’s come close has been Stonetooth, for the man who housed him and Osha while they were on Skagos.  I suppose I’ll decide when I meet the pup.  Perhaps he’ll name his pup Shaggydog II, just to amuse Bran.  

But Osha still hasn’t answered.  She’s chewing her lip.  “Thinking?” he asks her.

“What if I can’t think of a name?” she asks him, very seriously.  Rickon crouches down so their eyes are the same height.  

“You will,” he says gently.  “I did when I was your age.”

Osha peers around his shoulder at Shaggy.  Shaggy licks his nose while he watches them with clouded eyes.  

“Will she look like Shaggy?”

“To some extent.”

“When will she get here?”

“Soon.”

“Good.  Come on papa, let’s play in the snow!”

fashi0nmistake  asked:

The writing prompt meme- #50 "I’m starting an idiot jar. Any time you do or say anything idiotic, you have to put at least a dollar in it—more depending on how stupid the thing that you said or did was.” The Starklings. It's such a sibling prompt!

“What? It’s a great idea!”

“Robb, it’s a terrible idea! Mom doesn’t even like hockey,” Sansa protested.

Her older brother looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Of course she likes hockey! She has never missed a single game any one of us has played in unless two of us were playing at the same time in different rinks! She’s been to more games than Dad, Sansa!”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “OK. She doesn’t like hockey unless one or more of you idiots are playing. This isn’t just Dad’s anniversary! Stanley Cup playoff tickets are a terrible anniversary gift.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re the only person in this family who never played, Sansa! You probably want to send them to the dumb old ballet!” nine year old Rickon protested.

“No, I don’t,” Sansa said, in a voice alarmingly like their mother’s when her patience was nearly at an end. “I’m perfectly well aware that Dad has no interest in the ballet unless I’m dancing.”

“Well, ballet’s boring,” Rickon pronounced, making a face that had Robb, Jon, and Bran all laughing in spite of Sansa’s glaring at them.

“I hate all of you!” Sansa exclaimed as she dramatically turned causing her hair to swish around her shoulders and flounce out of the room. 

From her perch on the back of the couch by the window, Arya sighed. She’d never admit it to a living soul, but she did envy her sister’s ability to do that kind of stuff with her hair, even if Sansa was acting like a baby.

They were all acting like babies. Stupid babies.

Before she could mention that to them, however, Robb turned on Rickon. “Nice going, kid!” he said sarcastically. “Now she’d bailed on us!”

“You laughed!” Rickon protested, throwing his empty Coke can at Robb’s head.

Robb ducked of course, and the can, which apparently wasn’t entirely empty, hit the wall behind him, splattering Coke on a portrait of their family taken on a vacation to the beach about seven years ago. Their mother loved that picture.

“Nice,” Arya said, swinging her legs over the back of the couch and standing up. “You all are just brilliant. We’ve all been saving money for a damn year, and now that it’s time to actually plan this thing, we’ve talked for an hour, decided nothing, chased off Sansa, and gotten coke all over Mom’s favorite picture.

As Robb and Rickon both started to protest, Arya spoke over them. “Robb, go get Sansa back here. I know she’s bossy, but she listens to you more than the rest of us, and does anybody think we can actually plan this without her?”

She looked around the room at her siblings and cousin. Nobody actually disputed that statement. “Go on, Robb!” she said when he didn’t move. “Grovel if you have to, but get her back here.”

“Rickon’s the one who pissed her off!” Robb protested. 

Arya loved her oldest brother, she truly did. He was a wonderful guy. But sometimes when he felt angry or unjustly accused, he could be the biggest baby of all of them. “Yeah. And he’s NINE. Your twenty. Suck it up, Robb. You all laughed, and it was your dumb suggestion that we send Mom and Dad to the playoffs as our gift which got Sansa riled up in the first place. Besides,” she turned to glare at her youngest brother, and the smirk he’d been directing at Robb disappeared immediately. “Rickon has to go get a rag and clean his damn mess. None of us will be alive to give Mom and Dad anything if Mom sees that picture that like that!”

Rickon, fully aware that he couldn’t escape responsibility for the Coke can incident and with no desire to end up on the receiving end of the wrath of Catelyn Stark (in spite of the fact that Mom tended to let him skate more often than anyone because he was the BABY), scampered toward the kitchen in search of cleaning supplies immediately. 

Robb made a face at her that caused him to look alarmingly like Rickon, but he then agreed to go in search of their sister, muttering under his breath as he went. “And she calls SANSA bossy!”

“Well?” Arya asked as Bran and Jon stared at her in silence. 

“Well what?” Bran asked.

“Well where do you two think we should send them?” she asked in exasperation. These two had contributed very little to the discussion so far, although to be fair, neither had she–except to give them an update on their general budget. 

Even the older kids agreed that fifteen year old Arya was the best of all of them at math, so while Robb had opened the bank account last year because only he and Jon were over eighteen and could do it without their parents’ knowledge, Arya had managed it. The others had given her their contributions and she’d made deposits with Robb’s permission and kept track of the balance. Considering that only Jon, Robb, and Sansa had jobs–and they weren’t exactly full time or well-paying, they’d managed to collect quite a sum over the past year. Arya herself had done some math tutoring to raise money. She’d even babysat a few times, which was torture. Of course, she’d never tell the others that the primary way she’d managed to make her contributions almost as big as those of the older three was by giving Gendry money to bet on various sports events. First of all, she wasn’t supposed to still be seeing him and she didn’t want Dad to murder him, and second of all, Dad would likely murder HER if he found out she was gambling. Even for a good cause.

“They’re not really my parents, Arya,” Jon mumbled. “I really think you five should …”

“And THAT has got to be the stupidest thing of all the stupid things said in here so far today!” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “You’ve practically lived here your whole life, Jon, and you gave the most money out of anybody! You get a vote!”

“I didn’t put money in to get a vote,” Jon said almost sullenly. “I did it because Uncle Ned and Aunt Cat have given me pretty much everything I have.”

“They love you, Jon,” Bran insisted. “You’re as much their kid as any of us.”

Jon nodded a bit, but he didn’t smile, and under his breath he muttered something like “But they never had to do that” which caused Arya to roll her eyes again.

She adored Jon. It was almost funny because even though he wasn’t technically her brother, his was the face that came first to her mind if anyone asked if she had a favorite sibling. After all, he’d been the one who convinced her mother to not only allow her to play hockey, but to let her play on the boys’ team. But if Robb could drive her crazy sometimes with his belief that things were always supposed to go his way, Jon could make her equally nuts with his insistence on martyrdom at times.

“Seriously, boys, we’ve got enough to give them a really nice vacation somewhere. Not airfare, but Grandpa Hoster said he’d kick that in so we need to come up with something great.”

“What about Disney World?” Bran asked. “They both said that was a great trip when we all went three years ago.”

“Because we were all there,” Jon said. “It was a great family trip, but neither of your parents cared much about most of the rides. I think for just the two of them, maybe someplace else will be better.”

Bran frowned. “But what will they do anywhere without all of us there? I mean … they never go anywhere without us–except for Dad’s work trips. Won’t they get bored?”

Arya met Jon’s eyes and both of them tried mightily not to laugh. Bran was thirteen, old enough and smart enough to understand what went on between men and women, but still young enough to be completely oblivious to the idea of their parents as anything other than just their parents. Heck, she was fifteen and had a not-so-secret much older not-a-boyfriend and still didn’t like to think too closely about what went on in Mom’s and Dad’s bedroom when the door was locked, but she had no doubts they wouldn’t get bored on a kid-free vacation!

“They won’t get bored, Bran,” Jon said. “They do like each other, you know.” He laughed just a bit and reached over to ruffle Bran’s hair. 

Bran blushed then. “I know that!” he sputtered. “I just meant … I just …”

“Don’t worry, Bran,” Arya laughed. “It wasn’t even close to the stupidest suggestion we’ve had.”

“What about you, Bossy?” Robb asked as he came back into the family room, followed by a still pouting Sansa. “What brilliant ideas do you have?”

“I don’t know,” Arya said. “But it should be someplace they would both like. So no hockey. And no ballet.”

“I never said …” Sansa started.

“I know you never said ballet,” Arya interrupted quickly. “I’m just trying to make a point. Nothing that just Dad loves or just Mom loves. It has to be something they love together. What do they both love?”

“Me!” Rickon offered with a grin as he walked back in with glass cleaner and a rag. 

Everyone laughed. “Well, yes, Rickon,” Bran said. “We’ve already established that Mom and Dad love all of us, but this trip is just for the two of them.”

Before Arya and Jon could even cover their smiles at Bran’s about-face on couples trips, Rickon grinned more widely. “I didn’t say us,” he said, sticking a tongue out at Bran. “I said me. They only had all you losers trying to get a kid as awesome as me! That’s why they stopped once they got perfection!”

“You wish!” Bran told him, pulling the little cushion he kept behind his back in his wheelchair out and flinging at at the youngest Stark. Of course, he hit a vase which fell to the floor and broke instead.

“I’m not cleaning that!” Rickon announced.

“Could everyone refrain from doing anything stupid for longer than five minutes?” Arya asked in frustration.

Jon, who’d been standing closest to the vase, bent to start picking up the pieces.

“They both like the country as opposed to big cities,” Sansa said. “I mean, Mom likes the city, but Dad hates it. And even Mom is happier surrounded by green.”

That was actually a useful observation. Sansa really was good at this stuff. Even if she was constantly in other people’s business and wasn’t as perfect as everybody thought. “That’s good, Sans,” Arya said. “What else?”

“Water,” Robb offered. “Mom loves being on the water. And Dad does, too, as long as it’s not too hot. No place tropical.” 

“But warm enough to swim,” Jon put in, having somehow dispatched Rickon to fetch a broom and dustpan without making a fuss or raising a protest from the kid. “Aunt Cat loves to swim, and Uncle Ned loves watching her do it.”

“Eww!” Robb protested. “That’s my mother you’re talking about Jon.”

“Yeah, I know. And it’s obvious your dad thinks she’s the hottest woman around every time he looks at her, and this IS an anniversary trip.”

“Just shut up already, Jon,” Robb said, getting a bit red in the face.

One look at Jon told Arya that wasn’t going to happen. Jon and Robb were almost exactly the same age and had been closer than any real twins their whole lives, but they did love to aggravate each other. With a wicked gleam in his grey eyes, he said, “We definitely need to make sure the hotel room is really nice–in case they never leave it.”

Robb flew at Jon and tackled him. Thankfully, nothing fell to the floor except the two of them, and neither of them was truly angry so they just wrestled for a moment with Jon laughing so hard the whole time that Robb finally couldn’t help laughing as well. “Idiot,” he muttered, as he stood up to let Jon off the floor. “Just shut up about my parents’ sex lives, okay? Five times. That’s all I’ve got to acknowledge, man. Five times.”

Of course, that comment caused Sansa, Arya, and even Bran to dissolve into laughter until Rickon finally asked, “Five times what? And you’re not supposed to talk about sex. Big Walder Frey got sent to the principal’s office for talking about sex to some girl on the playground. She called him a dirty liar and told the teacher!”

That stopped the laughter pretty quickly. 

“Hey, bud,” Robb said, going to put an arm around Rickon. “Whatever that Frey kid says about anything is probably wrong.” Arya was honestly quite impressed at how quickly he’d gone from total dork into mature responsible big brother mode.

Rickon looked up at Robb a moment, as if considering his words. “Yeah. He lies a lot,” he said finally. “Is it true that …”

“Later, Rickon,” Robb interrupted with only the slightest hint of red returning to his cheeks. “Ask me later. Or better yet, ask Dad.”

“Please,” Arya said. “We need to stick to the topic at hand. Mom and Dad will be home soon, and who knows when we’ll get everybody here at once and them gone again. So no more acting like idiots. Are we all good with finding someplace in the country–on a lake maybe?”

“With a great big bed …” Jon mumbled, before bursting into laughter again.

Normally, Arya loved seeing Jon’s playful, teasing side, but as Robb punched him hard in the arm, and Rickon looked as if he were trying very hard to puzzle something out, she’d had enough. “That’s it! I’m starting an idiot jar. Any time you do or say anything idiotic, you have to put at least a dollar in it—more depending on how stupid the thing that you said or did was.”

“Hear, hear!” said Sansa. She turned and pulled a little basket down off one of the shelves. “This will do for now,” she said. “We can get an official jar later. Now, let’s get this trip planned.”

All the boys adopted serious expressions, and everyone who’d been standing found places to sit. Arya looked gratefully at her sister. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d wanted so much to just hug Sansa.

“The mountains,” Robb said. “Dad likes mountains, and it doesn’t get too warm there ever. But as long as it gets sunny and warm at all during the day, Mom will swim. You know her.”

“Yes!” Sansa nearly squealed. “And there are places with warm springs. I bet I could find someplace like that! And they could take long walks and go hiking and watch sunsets and have breakfast in bed and …”

Arya smiled as Sansa waxed poetic about the ideal vacation spot for Mom and Dad. The others actually all looked pretty excited now as she talked about it, and Arya had every confidence that their sister would get on-line and find a real-life place that wasn’t too far from the image in her head now that it seemed they’d agreed on a general idea. 

Maybe she’d keep the idiot jar (or basket), though. With this bunch, she could likely raise enough to do a vacation for the entire family next in no time at all. 

My King (1/?)

Pairing: Robb Stark x Reader

Warnings: Swearing & cheating

A/N: I read a series, but I can’t find it anymore, so I wanted to write something along the same premise (Robb cheating on the reader). This will be Part 1 of a series I probably won’t finish. Enjoy!

Originally posted by richard-madden


I didn’t believe it when I got the raven, but a part of me knew Catelyn would never lie to me. She thought of me as a daughter and I had given her her first two grandchildren. 

Robb and I had been wed a year ago and I gave birth to our twins just before he left to fight the Lannister army. Robb only got to spend two weeks with the kids, so I’d been on my own most of the time.

Our wedding was arranged by our fathers, both powerful northern lords trying to end a feud. When we first met, we couldn’t stand each other. For weeks we argued about everything, until one night when Robb shut me up by kissing me. I, of course, slapped him and then we kissed some more, only stopping when Jon cleared his throat. Since that day I had known I would fall in love with Robb.

So naturally, when Cat told me that he had been getting friendly with a nurse of the battlefield, I began to worry. And when I got word that the nurse had been seen coming out of his tent, I sobbed all night. But I was a northern, I sucked it up. 

“Bran I am leaving. I will be back soon, please look after Rickon, okay?” I whispered to him as he was in bed, falling asleep.

“Why are you leaving? Are you taking Ed and Lyanna with you?” He asked, referring to my twins.

I nodded, “I must take them. They are children, little lord. You will do good here. Be brave, never afraid. Watch out for your brother okay? I’ll be back before you know it.”

He nodded and closed his eyes.


The next morning, I was in a wagon with my twins and my handmaiden. I had sent a raven to Cat, letting her know I was coming. Four armed guards road with us. 

After three days time, we made it to the campsite. The guards were talking to the others guarding the camp. I was ready to get this confrontation over with. I knew Robb would be mad that I brought his heirs into a war zone, but I was too pissed to care. 

The door opened for me and my handmaiden, Alysa, stepped out first, before helping me. I held both children in each arm, shaking them gently to keep them quiet. As soon as I stepped out, Cat greeted me.

“Y/N, it is good to see you. I only wish it were under different circumstances.”

“As do I, Cat. Thank you for everything, would you like to hold Lyanna?” I asked handing the baby towards her.

“Aw, she has grown so large. She is a beauty, like her grandmother.” She said, causing both of us to laugh. “We can bring you to see Robb, He is discussing battle plans with the other lords.”

Alysa and I followed Catelyn to the war council tent. Cat spoke to the guard and told him to inform Robb that his wife was here.

After a few moments, several lords left the tent, nodding at me and Cat. I took Lyanna and went into see Robb by myself.

As soon as he saw me and the twins, his face lit up. I almost believed Catelyn had been wrong. He smiled and rushed over to hug me.

“Y/N! I’m so glad your here. I’ve missed you my love.” He kissed my head.

He stepped back and grazed me over, “What’s wrong?” He asked.

I took a deep breath before replying, “I know what you’ve done Robb. I know everything, okay?”

His expression dropped, “What do you mean?”

“DON’T lie to me. Not after everything we’ve been through. Don’t.”

“How did you find out?” He asked, defeated.

“Is that seriously all you care about?! Really Robb? I should be the one asking you how. How’d you end up sticking your cock in some whore!” My voice was growing louder and louder.

“Y/N please cal-”

“I swear if you tell me to calm down, I will leave right now!”

He fell silent.

“How could you? Please, please just tell me why?! I spent many nights crying over you. I’m tired. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“I’m sorry. Okay? I was lonely, war is harsh. Winter is coming. I missed you and the kids and I needed something.”

“You think I wasn’t having a hard time? Raising our children, alone! I missed you, I was lonely, but I didn’t fuck someone else. I’m done, Robb. I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“Well than WHAT do you wanna do, huh? It’s all about you.” He exclaimed.

“Of course, you’re trying to make me the villian. Robb I am done. I don’t wanna talk, I don’t want to do anything with you.”

“Despite my mistakes, you are still my wife and I am your king. You will listen to me, you understand? You and the twins will stay here with me, until we work this out. You will sleep in my tent with me.”

“I will NOT sleep in the same bed you had your whore in.”

“Fine! I’ll get a new one put into my tent and you will stay there with me, understood?” He finished talking.

I nodded, no longer wanting to be in the same room as him. 

“Here.” I handed Lyanna and Edward over to Robb. “You should spend time with them, Alysa can help you. I must rest.” I walked out without letting Robb speak. 

Catelyn waited outside for me and led me to her tent. I cried myself to sleep as i laid in her tent.

Everything hurt.

6

Modern AU

In which Rickon Stark and Shireen Baratheon are dating in secret with only a selective few knowing and trying to keep Stannis from finding out. But now Rickon has made it a habit to test the Old Gods and New by attending the galas her father has been hosting in Dragonstone in order to see her. 

Runaway: Jon Snow X Reader

Request: Prompt # 22: “RUN!”

Warnings: Ramsay. Just saying. Feels. Death of a character. Battles. Pain. Just real sad.

Originally posted by kingcrow-snow

You held Rickon Stark’s hand tight as Ramsay tugged you along. You whimpered, falling to your knees but Rickon picked you up before Ramsay could notice.

“We are almost home Y/N.” He sighed, “Almost with Jon and Sansa.”

  Jon and Sansa…. Jon and Sansa couldn’t win the war. You thought to yourself. They don’t have enough men and their claim is gone. He’ll kill Jon horribly and just treat Sansa a million times worse.

Jon….

Oh how I miss Jon.

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Chapter Seven: You Win or You Die

Originally posted by admireforever

PREVIOUS PART

*there will be smut in this chapter


After a week filled with dress fittings and last minute wedding plans, the day had come. I hadn’t been allowed to see Robb all day, something about it being bad luck. But I had been preoccupied by my handmaidens, who were busy getting me ready for the small evening ceremony in the Godswood.

My long dark hair had been braided and wrapped around my head to create something like a halo. A small tiara that my father had gave me for my 13th nameday was nestled in the braided halo as well. He had told me that he’d had it made for his betrothed, Lyanna Stark, before she had been kidnapped. I figured it was fitting to wear it.

My dress was the most soft and beautiful thing I had ever worn. It was exactly meant for colder weather, so I would be a little chilly out in the woods, but I could deal with it for a little while. 

The flowers on it were just as I imagined, starting right under my breasts and wrapping around the back of the dress. I couldn’t be happier about how it turned out and I had thanked the seamstress profoundly.

The giggling of my handmaidens was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in!” I called out, turning around once more to look at myself in the mirror to make sure everything was perfect.

“Are you ready? Robb is making his way down to the Godswood, m’lady,” Maester Luwin asked as he stepped into the room, followed by Hodor carrying Bran and little Rickon trailing behind slightly, both looking adorable in their fancy coats and furs.

“I think so,” I answered nervously before addressing the two boys. “Don’t you two look dashing!”

“You look beautiful, Leina,” Rickon said softly, coming forward to give me a hug while Bran nodded in agreement.

“Well thank you,” I blushed. “Shall we get going then?”

We all made our way down to the Godswood, Maester Luwin walking ahead to tell Robb that we were on our way. Bran, Hodor, and Rickon then ran ahead to stand as witnesses to the wedding, along with my handmaidens and Theon. 

As I turned the corner to what we had determined to be the aisle I would walk down, I caught Robb’s eye. As soon as we made eye contact, I felt a few tears well up in my eyes as a huge grin appeared on Robb’s face. 

As I walked up to him, he grabbed my hands and held them between us.

Throughout the entire ceremony, I barely listened to a word that was said, only responding when prompted. I was too lost in Robb’s blue eyes. Before I knew it, the ceremony was over and Robb was kissing me softly as everyone around us clapped happily.

It was then when I realized how cold I actually was in the dress that I was wearing. I shivered slightly as we broke away and Robb rubbed his hands up and down my arms in an attempt to warm me up.

“I told you to wear your cloak,” he chided me as he took off one of his furs and wrapped it around my shoulders.

“And I told you that if I did wear my cloak, all the flowers on my dress would be covered!” I laughed at his incredulous expression.

He just laughed and kissed me again before leading me back inside the castle for the feast that had been prepared.


Later on, after a few hours of eating and dancing, it was time for the part of one’s wedding day that I was terrified of: the bedding ceremony.

I had heard some stories, and I knew that I would inevitably have to do this, but it seemed shocking to me that it would happen tonight. And to say I was nervous would be an understatement. I wondered if Robb was as nervous as I am.

Maester Luwin had told us that we needed someone in the room with us when we…. did it, I suppose. This was to ensure that we had actually… done it. It was tradition, he had said. I had become flustered after he had said that and Robb had gripped my hand a bit tighter in comfort. He had then suggested that maybe, if someone had to be there, one of my handmaidens could be the one to do it. That way I could be more comfortable.

So as Robb and I made our way to his chambers, Jane, one of my handmaidens, followed behind us and sat quietly in the corner of the room.

The fire was ablaze in his fireplace, well I guess it was now our fireplace. I was to move into his room tomorrow now that we were married. So it was a little bit warmer than the main hall where we’d had the feast, but still a little bit chilly over where the bed was.

As if he could sense my nervousness, Robb kissed me softly.

“Don’t be nervous, love,” he whispered. 

“It’s just… I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“And you think I do?” he chuckled softly. “I haven’t done anything like this either.”

I blushed then and he took off his remaining furs and I followed suit, taking off the cloak that he had given me earlier on. 

I boldly reached over and started to untie his shirt and he then lifted it over his head. I sucked in my breath at the sight. 

“May I?” he asked me, reaching for the delicate sleeves holding my dress up. 

I nodded and he slipped them down my arms. I covered my breasts as he laid the dress down on a chair. He kissed me again, a little more fiercely now. He pulled my arms away from my chest and I hesitantly wrapped them around his neck, pressing my bare chest against his.

His hands wandered down to just underneath my bum and he lifted me up. I made a sound of surprise and wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me over to the bed. 

He laid me gently on the bed, pulling back so he could take his trousers off. I got a glance at his manhood and I sucked in a breath as I had never seen one before. 

He climbed onto the bed after me and pulled the sheer curtains around the bed so that there was at least some layer of privacy.

He kissed me again, squeezing one of my breasts in his hand. I moaned softly as he rubbed my nipple between his fingers. He shifted slightly and wrapped his lips around my other breast and my hands gripped the hair at the back of his neck slightly.

I squeezed my legs together slightly, feeling something that I hadn’t ever felt before down there. I could also feel his length hardening on my thigh and I lifted my hips slightly, earning a grunt from Robb. 

He kissed up my neck until he reached my lips, tugging at my bottom lip slightly, as his hand wandered down. His hand cupped my womanhood and I let out my loudest moan yet. 

“Robb,” I breathed out as my fingernails dragged down his back. “Oh gods, I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispered. “Are you ready?”

“I… I think so… it’s going to hurt, isn’t it?”

“I’ll go slow, my love,” he reassured me.

I nodded and he pecked me on the lips once more before starting to press into me. It didn’t hurt at first, it was only slightly uncomfortable, but it did get worse as he pressed in.

I gasped slightly and Robb stopped abruptly. 

“No, don’t stop,” I assured him. “I’ll be fine.”

He kissed me as he pushed in the rest of the way, holding it there for a minute until I gave him the go ahead. He pulled out slightly, pushing back in again, and then continuing. It hurt a bit at first, but I got used to the feeling of it eventually. 

I encouraged him to go faster and he happily did so. Moans were flying freely now and hands were all over. I could feel something in my tummy building up as Robb thrusted. 

“Oh gods,” I moaned. “Robb… I-”

“Shhh,” he comforted me. “It’s alright. Let it out.”

I moaned louder as I rolled my hips into his. The ball in my tummy kept building until it was almost too much. And when that ball burst, it was the most euphoric feeling I had ever felt. 

I stiffened slightly and tightly gripped Robb’s curls. He grunted as his thrusts became sloppier as he came as well. I could feel him inside me and that made my orgasm last longer. 

He pulled me in for another kiss and didn’t stop kissing me until we had both calmed slightly.

I heard the door to the room open and close softly, signaling that Jane, my handmaiden, had left the room to give us privacy.

“I love you,” he confidently told me, pecking me on the lips one last time before slowly pulling out of me. 

He grabbed a towel from the table near the bed and cleaned us both up before pulling back the furs on the bed, letting us both get under the covers. 

I cuddled closer to his warm chest, resting my head on it as he laid on his back and wrapped his arms around me tightly.

The tiredness that I was feeling finally caught up to me right after Robb kissed me lovingly on the forehead.


I woke up the next morning to the sunlight shining softly through the windows. My legs were tangled up in Robb’s and my chest was pressed up against his.

I shifted slightly, realizing we were both still naked. I glanced up at him to see that he was awake as well.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

“Morning,” I whispered.

“How are you feeling?”

“A little bit sore,” I answered. “But I’m so happy that I’m your wife now.”

“And I am happy to be your husband,” he replied and then kissed me. I kissed him back, wrapping my leg higher up on his waist.

He gripped my thigh with one hand while the other stroked my cheek. 

“Unless you want to have a repeat of last night,” he pulled away. “I think we should stop.”

“What made you think I want to stop?” I smiled.

He grinned and pulled me in for another kiss before rolling on top of me.


A few weeks later, while getting ready to go to sleep, there was a knock on the door to Robb’s chamber.

“Come in,” Robb called. I continued to brush my hair, taking it out of the braids I had it in all day.

“My Lord,” the boy started. “I’m sorry it’s so late, but an urgent message just arrived from Kings Landing.”

The boy handed Robb the envelope before closing the door behind him as he left. Robb sat at his desk and opened the letter, quickly scanning it.

“Who’s it from?” I asked.

“My father.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Umm… everyone’s is fine,” he replied.

“Why does it sound like you’re lying?”

He was quiet after that. I turned around, setting my brush down. He was leaning over the letter, glancing at another piece of paper that looked like it had been ripped out of a book. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly shocked by what he was reading.

“Robb,” I said as I stood and walked over to him. “What is it?”

His only response was to hand me the letter that his father sent him.

Son,

I write this letter to inform you of some disturbing news. Tensions are high here in Kings Landing and I’m afraid that the news from your mother has contributed to that tension. I do believe that Cersei Lannister is responsible for Bran falling from that tower and I have discovered something else. Earlier today, I was directed to a book that Jon Arryn, the previous hand, had read just before he died. There was a certain page in that book that shows the lineage of the Baratheon family. I have ripped out said page and sent it with this letter. And as you can see, all children of the Baratheon line have had black hair. Never blonde. Even when the wife or husband of the Baratheon had blonde hair. The only children in the line that don’t have black hair are Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen. That being said, I believe Leina to be the only legitimate child of Cersei and Robert. She is the legitimate heir to the throne, not Joffrey. I also believe that Jon Arryn discovered this information and that is the reason that he died. I send this letter with great caution, but it was something that you both needed to know.

Your father,

Lord Eddard Stark

“Leina?” Robb asked, concerned after there was a moment of silence. “Are you alright?”

“I’m…. fine,” I replied.

The wheels in my head kept spinning. Was this true? I guess it would make sense…. My mother always treated me differently than my siblings. I just thought it was because I looked so much like my father. I knew she hated him. But if my father wasn’t my sibling’s father, then who was?

“Do you believe it?” he asked, grabbing my hand and pulling me closer to him.

“Yes,” I answered. “It would explain why she’s always hated me.”

“She’s your mother,” he tried. “She doesn’t hate you.”

“Yes she does, Robb!” I exclaimed. “She’s always treated me differently than my siblings and she has mentally and sometimes physically abused me throughout my childhood. The only thing that I want to know now is who her lover is.”

“Shhh, my love. It’s alright.”

“My whole life is a lie! And what if my mother finds out that I know!? She’ll kill me! She doesn’t want me to be Queen! Oh gods I-”

Robb cut me off with a soft kiss on the lips.

“Do not think like that, Leina! I won’t let anyone hurt you. I will protect you. I would die for you.”

“I love you too.” I said and kissed him fiercely. “No matter what.”


Leina’s wedding dress:

Leina’s wedding hair (obviously black hair):

Crown that she wore:

What she is wearing when the letter comes:

PART EIGHT

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@scarletxwitch

@rheelyglenn

a new song

At long last, after years and years, I am writing asoiaf fic again. Okay maybe months but it feels like it’s been years. This has shades of Jon x Sansa, which should surprise no one. This pretty much ignores show canon in a lot of ways.

This is for @sansapotter​, who asked for a fic where the starklings get in a snowball fight.


Sansa felt the impact of the snowball long before she registered the feeling of cold water dripping down the back of her dress. Bran looked up at her questioningly as she gasped lightly.

“What happened?” he asked.

Sansa didn’t answer as she turned around to see who dared to throw a snowball at the Lady of Winterfell when she was on her way out of the godswood after praying with her brother. It wasn’t until she heard the ghost of a laugh on the wind that she narrowed her eyes and her suspicions.

“Sansa? Bran?”

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