Hello there! It would be so amazing if you could write a Robb Stark x reader! (Y/N) met Arya while she was in Westros and helped her disguise herself as a young boy to easily escape the city. Before they part ways, (Y/N) makes Arya the promise that she will travel to the North and tell her mother that Arya is alive and well. (Y/N) keeps her promise and while in the North, she finds herself falling for the eldest Stark boy. - Requested by anon.
I love Game Of Thrones and I took great joy in re-watching Season 2 and 3 in order to be able to write this. Anon, you handed me an excuse to re-watch GOT, again xD I hope this is to your liking… no idea how long it’s gonna be, though.
GIF NOT MINE
“Psst.” You hissed between clenched teeth, clutching the wall with dirty hands, keeping your body as close to the wall as you could. “Psst. Arya.” you hissed again, desperate to get her attention through the chaos on the streets.
The young girl spun around, fear in her eyes, though this died down quickly when she caught sight of you. “Y/N!” she smiled sadly and hurried over, the sadness giving way to a newfound determination.
“Come with me.” Your hand wrapped around her wrist, and you half-marched, half-dragged her through the streets, being mindful of your grip on her. People were running in one direction, and the sinking feeling in your stomach told you that something was very wrong. You needed to get yourself, and Arya, out of King’s Landing.
You didn’t know much, but you knew that you had to run and survive, or stay and die.
“Where are you taking me? Y/N?” Arya’s tone grew more and more frustrated the longer you were silent, before finally, you turned the corner into an empty alley way, having reached your destination. You hurried over to an alcove, pulling out a tatty sack that held your most precious belongings. You pulled out a pair of scissors, and turned back to Arya.
“We need to get out of here.”
Arya’s gaze moved from the scissors, to your face, and back again. She took an unconscious step back.
“What are those for?” Arya’s jaw clenched.
“Your hair. You’re too recognisable to be able to leave easily. We need to disguise you - your clothes are as they should be, but your hair needs to match.”
Arya nodded, her gaze steely. “Give them to me. I’ll do it.”
You handed her the scissors and watched as she mercilessly hacked at her hair, the messy strands falling to the floor, pooling around her feet.
As you watched her strip away more and more of the girl she was, you noticed that, even now, she was changing. Holding herself differently. The sword she carried had already become a part of her, an extension of her arm, and her long hair had stopped suiting her. You watched as Arya Stark became a boy orphan, abandoned on the dirty streets of King’s Landing.
Finally, she was done, handing you the scissors. You stuffed them in your sack, not looking. There wasn’t time.
Together, you hurried through the winding streets, navigating your way past guards and the like, being careful to keep your heads down. Both you were easily recognisable, and you needed to escape, not be captured by the Lannisters.
All too soon, the two of you reached the designated ‘safe zone’ that Yoren and his recruits had agreed upon, and you both jumped into one of the carriages, travelling along the King’s Road, not knowing where exactly you were headed but knowing that you were safe.
You’d completed your task - to get Arya Stark to safety.
You hopped off at the next inn, where the horses were to be fed, watered and well-rested before the continuation of their journey tomorrow.
“Arya. This is where I leave you.”
“What? No, y-”
“This is how it has to be. I promise you, My Lady, that I will travel to the North and find your mother, and tell her that you are safe and well. Be careful, and don’t trust the others,” you nodded your head towards the entrance of the inn, where raucous laughter of men could be heard, “if they find out who you are, they won’t hesitate to harm you. Or worse.”
Arya nodded, sadness on her too-young face as she surged forwards, wrapping her arms around your waist and holding you as tightly to her as she could for a girl of twelve. Idly, you marveled at her strength.
The hug wasn’t nearly long enough, but you swallowed the lump in your throat, and blinked back your tears. “Goodbye, My Lady. Be safe on your travels, and stay close to Yoren. He won’t harm you, and nor will any harm befall you when you are with him. This is goodbye.”
You stepped back from her completely, turning and walking away, your tears flowing freely now. You couldn’t look back for one last glance at her. If you did, your already weakened resolve would crumble and you’d break, run back and vow never to leave her side. You had to be strong. You had no choice.
Days turned into weeks as you travelled a different road to the one Arya was using, and before long, you reached the North. You were tired, weakened by hunger, dirty and in desperate need of a wash, but you had made it. You had connections to the Starks - you were Arya’s handmaid back in Winterfell - and so you knew that their loyalty would mean that they wouldn’t turn you away.
“Who’s there?” The guards were instantly at attention, their eyes and weapons all trained on you.
Despite your nerves, your voice was strong. “I’m Y/N, the handmaiden of Arya Stark. I was instructed to deliver a message to her mother, the Lady Catelyn Stark.”
“Let her pass. I’ll take her to my mother.” A deep, familiar rumble met your eyes, and your eyes flew to Robb’s face, drinking it in. You noticed that his stance, his eyes, even his smile was sad, and you knew that the news of his father’s demise had reached him. This was not a happy reunion.
Walking with him, you surveyed your surroundings. “What’s happening here?”
“We’re in the middle of a war with the Lannisters. We’re burying our dead and taking care of our wounded, making plans to save my sisters from King’s Landing, where they were captured. We haven’t heard anything about them since we left Winterfell -”
You cut him off. “That’s why I’m here to speak to your mother. I have a message, My Lord, from Arya.”
Robb stopped dead, his eyes frantically searching your face. He was close, now, his breath misting in the air from the cold, his cheeks red from the winds. Your eyes flickered down to his lips, and then back to his eyes. “You’ve had word from Arya?” he demanded, though still respectfully, continuing to walk.
He didn’t prompt you to continue, but you did so anyway, launching into your story. By the time you had finished, you had reached the tent where Lady Catelyn was staying.
You and Robb walked into the tent, side by side. Lady Catelyn looked surprised to see you, an old face, and looked to Robb for explanation.
“She has word from Arya, mother.”
“Arya?” Lady Catelyn echoed, somewhat breathlessly, her face now not leaving yours. Her eyes roamed your face for the truth, her hands clutching the table in front of her so tightly that her knuckles were white, the skin straining and pulled taut.
“Yes, My Lady. I’ve spent some time with Arya. She’s alive and well, travelling up to Castle Black to be with Jon. She’ll be posing as a new recruit for the Night’s Watch. There’ll be a raven when she arrives, from the Lord Commander.” You spoke quickly and calmly, your heart pounding in your head.
“This is welcome news in these troubled times.” A man spoke from where he was stood behind Lady Catelyn, and you smiled tensely, wanting nothing but a wash, some edible food and sleep.
You swayed on the spot, and Robb’s gloved hand gripped your elbow, holding you up until you righted yourself. Your elbow burned with a delicious heat where he had touched you, though it had been through several thick layers of clothing.
Lady Catelyn looked you over, a maternal look in her eyes. Finally, she looked to Robb, her eyebrows raised expectantly. “Get Lady Y/N to a prepared tent, Robb. She needs food, some fresh water and a rest.”
You bobbed into a courtesy, your old habits washing over you now. “Thank you, My Lady.”
Lady Catelyn inclined her head in acknowledgement of your thanks, though this also served as a clear dismissal.
You looked to Robb, and he smiled at you. “Good evening, Lady Y/N.”
You stepped back, bidding Lady Catelyn and her son, Robb Stark, a good evening, and turned away, being escorted by one of the guards to a tent where you could recuperate, safe in the knowledge that you had completed your duties as Arya’s handmaiden.
In your tent, as you cleaned yourself and dined on edible food, your stomach was in turmoil, your heart in your throat and in your eyes, your elbow throbbing where it had been gently gripped by Robb a few hours before. One thing was clear… you were falling in love with Eddard Stark’s eldest son.
Oh phew, that was waaaay longer than I expected! I think it fell short when she actually met Robb in this imagine, so I hope you can forgive me for their short, unfulfilling interaction. I hope they were in character! Stay safe, my lovelies! <3
I need someone to blame for this!! I was up until 2:30 am watching Game of Thrones. I have to be at work at 8am. So here I am tired af. Do I blame Kit, the spectacular show or my new found kittens? Who did this to me?!! I need an answer!!
<b>Beautiful cinnamon roll shows:</b> Good writing, characters are treated well, diverse cast, ships are in tact, I watch because I genuinely love.<p/><b>Trash bag, garbage, oil spill shows:</b> Bad writing; characters ooc and treated like shit (especially poc and women); not very diverse; ships are a mess; only watching because I'm in too deep and if I don't find out what happens at the end I will literally go mad.<p/></p>
My girlfriend begged me to watch Game of Thrones, then proceeded to spoil it for me...
So about 2 months ago, my girlfriend convinced me to start watching Game of Thrones. It’s not an easy show to get into for me because it’s so complex, but I persevered until I started liking it. However, my girlfriend kept wanting to talk about it with me, and then accidentally spoiling no less than 5 major events! A week before the Season 6 finale, she was complaining to me how she wouldn’t be able to see the finale until the next day. She was vulnerable, and I was capable.
I saw my opportunity, and I got to work. I binged Seasons 4, 5, and 6 within that week. My girlfriend said she would be staying off social media until she watched it. It was a good plan, but not perfect. She had not a clue that I had caught up and trusted me to be spoiler free; she couldn’t have been more vulnerable and I soaked in the glory I was about to feel.
30 minutes into the episode, I found the perfect event that involved her favorite character dying. I baited her attention with a:
“hey, can I ask you something?”
I got a response in 10 seconds. I had her full and undivided attention…. and I struck with grace
************* GAME OF THRONES SPOILER BELOW
Because I watched the Princess Diaries 2 and can’t get this Jily AU out of my head.
“Let’s sneak to the kitchens and snag you some real food.”
They happily discussed their lives- Marlene’s recent tryst in Monaco, Lily’s graduation and move to Gryffindor, as they wove their way across the room. Lily was so involved in a story about Marlene’s favorite new bartender in Ibiza that she was unaware of the rather tall man she promptly walked into, smashing her heel onto his foot in the process.
The man winced, a hand flying to his jet black hair as he tried to settle himself without swearing. Lily’s hand flew to her mouth, apologies spilling from her lips.
“That’s alright, your highness, the fault was entirely my own,” his voice was still strained he gave a bow, and as he straightened Lily took stock of him.
His hair was a mass of black, sticking out in all directions as if he hadn’t even tried to tame it. His eyes were hidden behind thin-rimmed glasses, but they swirled a mix of brown and green, leaving a beautiful hazel staring back at her. His face was angular, a nose just bordering on large. His lips were curved in a wide smile, teeth shining brilliantly back at her. Marlene poked Lily hard in the back, spurring her on.
“Are you sure you don’t want to exchange licenses or proof of insurance?” She joked, hoping he would understand the quip. So many of the nobles she met would take offence, or stare blankly at her, never having driven a day in their lives.
“No, no,” his smile twitched, crooking to one side, “These shoes were a little large anyway, the swelling should help them fit.”