Can you do one story of Robb and his wife during the war and she is giving birth and he sits behind her and supports her through an extremely difficult birth. And afterwards he is so protective now because he doesnโt just have his wife to protect but his newborn baby aswell. Thank you
GoT || Robb Stark || Labours.
โโโโเญจเง Pairing; Robb Stark x Reader.
Setting; During war, though none specifically specified.
Warnings; Pregnancy and childbirth, childbirth complications and unconsciousness
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โโโโเญจเง Authorโs note; I loved this request!! Hopefully I captured what you were after. Itโs currently past midnight for me and I donโt function properly at this time, Iโm usually asleep so i apologise for any mistakes, it will be edited shortly.
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THE WAR HAD TAKEN MUCH FROM HIM-. Peace, sleep, certainty and now, we were about to welcome another worry into this world.
"You're doing so well, princess," he whispered against my dampening hair, his voice low and unsteady, as if words cost him more than he could afford. Strands of my hair clung to his brows like a dark veil, sweat darkened and disordered.
His composure unraveled in quiet pieces with every laboured breath I drew. His eyes found no place to rest. They followed my pain as though it were a blade turned slowly in his own flesh. Every tightening of my body, every broken gasp, every contraction that bent me into something unrecognisable.
And yet, he couldn't look away.
Not at my face alone, nor the ruined bed beneath me, where blood stained linen bore silent witness to the cost of bringing life into this world. It was a sight that threatened to undo him, and yet, he stayed, because his presence alone anchored my suffering.
"I can't, Robb" I whispered, my voice breaking as a sharp spear of pain drove up my spine. His hand found my cheek, steady and warm against the tremor in my skin. He drew my face towards his and our eyes met, blue upon blue, like two storm tossed seas pressing against one another, refusing to break apart, even as the world was splitting me open.
Sweat clung to my lashes, gathering in heavy beads. "Yes, you can," he said, though the words came right as if he fought to keep them from shattering. There was steel in them, but they bent beneath what he saw.
A cry tore from me as my body seized involuntarily, tightening around pains I could not command it to bear. Robb moved at once, pulling me closer, bracing me between his legs as though he might lend me the strength in his own bones. His hold firmed as the midwives worked around us and the room itself seemed to hold its breath.
"I'm scared." I admitted, the words tasting like iron on my tongue. I had heard the tales told in hushed corners, some women who called childbirth a blessing, others who never wanted to speak of it at all. Joy and tragedy spoken of as if they were sisters. None of it prepared me for this waiting darkness, for the way pain could arrive like a siege no wall could hold. Not knowing what was happening, even after the cries echo off stone and timber.
Robb pressed a kiss to my brow, his hand steady though I could feel the tension in it. When he spoke, his voice was quieter than I had ever heard. "So am I," he admitted. "But you are not alone. You will never face anything alone."
A breath of laughter escaped me, broken by a sharp sting that stole it halfway. "Shouldn't it be you who isn't afraid?" He gave a soft, humourless chuckle, though it did not reach his eyes. He had stood in battle while arrows darkened the sky, but nothing had ever made him look as helpless as he did now, holding my hand as though it were the only thing keeping him from breaking.
"How could I not be," he said, voice low, "seeing you in such pain?"
"One last push, princess." The midwife urged from between my legs, her hands and gown marked with the crimson proof of my labour. The words barely reached me through the roar of my throat. My face twisted in a way I had never known it could, as though my own body had turned traitor. Pain seized me anew, relentless and consuming, and my body answered before thought could. Forcing a push I did not will, my abdomen tightening as fire lanced down through my limbs.
"I..I can't-" I gasped, the words breaking apart as something vast and final built within me. Then, all at once, the world changed.
The agony cut away like a blade withdrawn. Breath rushed back into my lungs in ragged bursts, and for a heartbeat there was only stunned silence where pain had been.
A cry followed, sharp, fragile and alive. And in that moment I understood, through tears and trembling relief, our child had come into this world.
I looked up towards Robb, his eyes wide and alight as he watched the midwives clean and tender to our child. Then his gaze fell to me, and his face broke into a smile so unguarded it almost hurt to see. "You did well, princess," he said softly. "So well."
His hand came to my cheek, warm and steady and I leaned into it as though it were the only solid thing left in the world. But my smile faltered. The edges of the room began to darken, as if ink had spilled across the wall of my vision.
Sound grew distant, voices rising and falling like waves upon a storm shore, no longer fully belonging to me. The warmth of the bed, the weight of my own body, all of it slipped away in even pieces.
"Help her." Robb's voice cut through the blur, sharp with command and fear he could not fully hide. "I need you to leave the room, my Lord." One of the midwives said.
"I cannot leave her..-" he began, but the rest was swallowed by encroaching darkness. The world narrowed to a thin thread of sound, then to nothing at all. And I sank, without pain, without thought, into a deep unending sleep.
Time had passed, though I could not have said how much. It came to me in fragments, like broken glass beneath a tide of darkness. There had been only night for a time, endless, suffocating night, filled with dreams that were not dreams at all, but fevered shadows that clung to me long after waking. Yet slowly, cruelly gentle, the dark began to loosen its grips.
Light returned first, faint and trembling. Candlelight, warm and golden, flickering against stone walls. Then scent followed, fresh broth, herbs, the clean bite of vegetables simmering in a pot somewhere beyond my sight.
"Princess," came a voice I knew as well as my own. "You're awake." The bed shifted as he moved closer, his weight settling besides me. My eyes opened at last, though the world swam at the edges, too bright, too real. I blinked hard, trying to bring him into focus.
I reached for him before I could think, my hand finding his cheek, grounding myself in the warmth of him. "Robb..what happened?"
His mouth opened, something in his expression faltering, but before he could answer, memory surged back like winter water breaking through ice. The labour, the pain, the darkness swallowing me whole. My breath caught sharply. I pushed myself upright at once, a hiss tearing from my throat as pain flared through my lower body.
Silence followed for a heartbeat. Then, a sound broke it. A soft, uncertain coo from somewhere nearby. The faintest cry, fragile but alive. My head turned before I thought, drawn towards the sound like iron to a lodestone. There, along folded linens and warm furs, a small bundle shifted, tiny fingers uncurling, a face still wrinkled with newness and life.
Relief struck so fiercely it nearly stole my breath. Robb followed my gaze, rising at once. He crossed the space between us and returned carrying the child as though she were something sacred.
"A girl," he said, voice low as he passed her to me.
"A girl," I echoed. My throat tightened. "She is perfect."
Robb's hand brushed over her cheek, wonder softening every line of him. "She looks just like you."
"Lyra," I whispered at once, as though the name had been waiting behind my teeth all along. I held her closer, instinctively, fiercely, as if letting go would mean losing her again to the dark. "Her name?" Robb asked.
"Lyra Stark," he repeated, testing it like a vow. "It's perfect.โ
โI was so worried..when you would not wake."
At that, my smile softened. My gaze moved between them, between the man I loved and the child I now held as though she had always been ours to protect. "I am here now, my prince," I said quietly. "I am not going anywhere else."
"You should rest." I spoke up once more, my voice still thick with exhaustion. Robb did not answer straight the way. His gaze remained fixed upon the child in my arms, as though the world beyond her had ceased to matter. There was something distant in his eyes, starlight caught behind a storm.
"I do not think I can," he said quietly.
My brows drew together. "Why?"
His thumb brushed softly over Lyra's cheek, careful as a man handling something more fragile than glass. When he spoke again, his voice was lower still.
"Before, I slept with one eye open," he said. "I had only one person to protect." His eyes lifted then, meeting mine. "Now," he continued, "I cannot sleep at all."
He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead, brief and steady to anchor himself to what was real, before his hand returned to Lyra, as though he could not bear to let go for even a moment.
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