#robb stark request

summary: You gave birth to your first son a few months ago, but your husband Robb wasn't there. Robb is at war. You cannot bear the thought of watching your son grow up without knowing his father. And even though Robb strictly forbade it, you decide to take matters into your own hands. words: 4.888 warnings: war themes, angst, fluff a/n: Based on this request. Thanks, anon. I hope you like it🩶.

no use of Y/N //English is not my first language// not proofread

requests are open / main-masterlist/ got- masterlist // AO3

A/N hope you like it anon. Gets soft at the end. Will edit later for historical accuracy. Requests open.

"Your grace," you began nervously as your husband threw open your bedchamber door. Opening it was hard enough so thinking of the force it took to rattle the hinges made you wince. Perhaps you could finally see the King Robb that maidens swooned for and bards sang of.

"Like a dog? A beast? Numbskulled brute? Is that what you said?" He spat out. His anger, so hard to provoke but equally hard to quell. Now it was righteous too.

“I didn’t mean any of it,” you nervously said. “I only wished to entertain.”

Robb walked towards you and you took a step back. You were vulnerable, only wearing your shift.

“And what did you call yourself? Little more than a whore I paid two coppers for? A greedy little queen, at the mercy of the king?” Robb said. “I can’t even repeat what I heard. Yet you said it when I have done nothing but treat you gently with kindness.”

“It was only my ladies, and I didn’t wish to disappoint, husband.” You said. You placed your hand gently on his chest. “They dream of you, and I couldn’t appear jealous. I needed to show you didn’t lack passion in bed.”

“Wasn’t just the ladies. My men heard you recount your pleasure and now they’re the ones salivating.” He shouted.

“Cease this! It’s childish and I will speak as I wish.” You said, feigning annoyance.

Robb looked madder with each word out of your mouth. He gripped your wrists to the point of pain and spun you around. With a hand on your back, he pushed you face down onto the furs.

"You talk like a whore you get taken like one."

He pushed your chemise up and you felt his fingers find the most sensitive parts of you. He shoved two in roughly, making you scream. Thank the old gods, your plan worked better than expected.

“And what of my men guarding you? Did they have to hear your of escapades? Know how you enjoy in my chamber?” Robb demanded.

The twist of his fingers in your unprepared cunt made tears spring to your eyes.

“Who do you belong to?” He asked. You refused to reply. You shook your head.

“You’re mine, you hear me?” Robb yelled. He slapped your arse to make his point. No need to trigger him even more, you decided. “Who owns ye?” He asked again.

“You do,” you mumbled.

“And I am your King, and your husband. And you had better remember that.”

“Yes, husband.” You whispered. You heard the sounds of him undressing. You didn’t dare move.

Robb held your hips on either side of you and pushed you into the bed.

“Who’ll take you now?” He demanded.

“You, my lord and husband.” You replied submissive. His breathing behind you told you he was still furious.

His hands tightened around your hips and you felt the impossible thickness of his member at your entrance. He'd taken you before, he was your goddamn husband, but never in anger and never like this.

He began to push in, deaf to your cries.

"Robb," you pleaded, your will breaking. He was deep in you but not to the hilt yet. This new position was physically uncomfortable adding to your humiliation. "Please, please." You begged. You didn't know what you were asking for, for him to let you go or for a moment to adjust. But you were so hot you could barely see. You had never felt desire like this. You anticipated your release like Robb returning home.

"No," he said quietly. "You will accept this, wife." He sheathed himself to the hilt within your body. You were glad he'd let go of your arms, so you could twist your fingers into the furs on your bed.

He was deeper than before in this new position, you felt like you were being split open. You reminded yourself you were trying for this reaction. Some part of your heart hurt most of all, knowing that your husband didn't care about the pain he inflicted upon your body. He was mean.

He pulled out again and pushed back in slowly. The deep pleasure knocked the breath out of your lungs. It added to everything you felt from the stretch of his girth.

Your cries grew louder due to pleasure, and you were screaming in abandon at how good he made you feel.

“More, husband, Robb, please.” You begged incoherently. The snap of his hips against yours set a harsh pace.

He tried to stop, to tease you, but he couldn’t. He was too excited looking at your body beneath him.

It didn’t take long before you were clenched around his cock in your pleasure, and he spent in response to you.

Robb collapsed atop you. He rolled over to the side, breathing heavily. You took a moment to calm yourself down and turned to face him. You took his hand in yours carefully, you wanted to know if his anger had been quelled yet. You were pleased when he brought your hand to his lips to kiss it.

“I love you,” he said. “And I have no desire to share you. Not this. Not our time together when we get so little.” Robb confessed. Your heart broke for him. Perhaps you’d gone too far in seeking his passion.

His face grew tense as you didn’t reply. “Have I hurt you, love?” He asked, caressing your cheek. You leaned into his touch with a sigh.

Ik i said i had a fic idea and i still do and i still wanna write it but i also want to write other things so if anyone wants to request anything I’d be sooooooooo happy and soooooo grateful to write it like I’ll write anything SOOOOO PLSS GIVE ME SOMETHIN i feel like a lil victorian kid on the street goin pls sir can I have some more anyway yeah just request if u can luv u

“I only lied to protect you! I couldn’t risk you being involved with any part of the war, I refuse to lose you over something like that,” Robb explains as you sit there in tears.

“You could have died out there Robb, what would I have done without you?” you retort, angry that he’d gone behind your back and got involved in yet another battle that could have coped without him. He’d promised you to take a step back from duties when you were married, but he couldn’t resist getting in on the action, and you were furious that he’d blatantly lied to your face about this instance.

“I didn’t though, did I?” he smiles, trying to get you to calm down.

“Robb, sometimes I hate the way you talk to me,” you sigh, fed up with his logic of if he’s fine now then it doesn’t matter that he lied.

“(Y/N), come on, I honestly didn’t mean to keep it a secret, I just knew you’d try to stop me and I-”

“And for good reason, too!”

He backs off, knowing it was going to take a lot more to get you to relax, and he sits on the chair in the corner of the bedroom, watching you carefully on the bed as you fiddle with the hem of the blanket you were sitting on. You could understand that he didn’t want you knowing, as you definitely would have followed him to try and stop him, and he didn’t want anything to happen to you, but there were better ways of going about this, or even just not doing it in the first place like any normal person.

“I hate the way you stare...” you add, flicking your eyes up to his gaze that hadn’t faltered from you in minutes. He looks away briefly, but his eyes are right back on you as soon as you take a deep sigh and look up at the ceiling.

“I know you’re upset, and thinking that I rushed into this too quickly without thinking, but we had a strategy, and it worked,” he says, as if hearing your thoughts.

“...and the way you read my mind...” you continue, giving him a suspicious look from the corner of your eye. He chuckles lightly, hoping this was an indication of you softening.

“Honestly (Y/N), I’m sorry, but I cannot risk anything happening to you. I love you far too much, and would never forgive myself. You’re everything to me, you really are, and I promise to never lie to you again,” he says quietly, shifting forward in his seat, but still not daring to make his way over to you just yet.

“I hate the way you’re always right,” you sigh, a small smile trying to make an appearance on your lips, “but I hate it when you lie.”

“I know, I know, and I can’t apologise enough for doing that to you, but look, I’m here, I’m okay, and I won’t do it again. And I got you something as well,” he says, digging around in his cloak and bringing out a small wooden figurine. He walks slowly towards you, as if approaching a shy animal, and holds out his hand to you with the figure in his palm.

“Grey Wind!” you chuckle, picking up the small wooden wolf from his hand, “now he can live in my pocket.”

“Exactly!” he grins.

“Oh, Robb, I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry,” you say, annoyed that he’d got around you so quickly with this sweet gesture, “you always know how to get me to give in, don’t you?”

“I happen to love when I make you laugh,” he replies, “it lights up your face perfectly. I just want you to be happy and not worry so much.”

“But I hate it when you’re not around,” you mutter sadly, stroking the back of the small wolf in your hands. It was true, you did hate it when he wasn’t there, because you needed him that much, he was your world and everything just made sense when he was there.

“I hate it too, I hate being apart from you, it’s hell for me. Every second I’m away, my heart sinks down in to my stomach, it literally aches for you,” he says, placing his hand on your cheek softly. His thumb strokes your skin, and you look up at him, standing in front of you in all his glory, his face filled with adoration for you.

“But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all,” you whisper, placing the small dire wolf on the bedside table.

“Which means you love me, right?” he smirks. You stand up, give him a nod, then reach around to your back, pinching the laces of your corset and pulling them to undo the knot, and you manage to wriggle it loose enough to slip down your body, revealing your slip dress underneath. Robb’s eyes widen and he immediately shrugs his cloak off, then starts to undo his trousers, pushing them hastily down his legs. You pull the hem of his shirt and lift it off of his body, then he carefully slides the straps of your dress over your shoulders, and watches in awe as it falls away from your body.

“My wife,” he exhales, his eyes scanning your entire body, “oh, my love.”

You move back, getting on to the bed and laying down for him, then he climbs on top of you, hovering inches above your body. You take your opportunity to wrap your hand around his growing length, pumping it a few times before guiding him to your entrance where he quickly pushes inside, and you watch his eyes close as your warmth envelops him. He starts to move, making you lift your hips up a little to meet his thrusts, and you weave your hand through his hair to bring his face down to meet yours in a passionate kiss. Your free hand wanders up and down his back, then your fingernails dig in to his skin as he quickens his pace, your skin smacking against each other now as he finds his rhythm.

“Robb,” you moan, breaking the kiss. His cock twitches at the sound of his name coming from your mouth in that way, and he pushes against the foot of the bed to let him get some more power behind his movements. When you find the perfect synchronicity, you both find yourselves groaning with every thrust, and your bodies start to glimmer with sweat. Robb manages to lean down, giving you a sloppy kiss as you start to clench around him, and soon enough you’re tightening up again, this time letting go completely when you release, and the sensation sets him off quickly. He stays inside you as he rolls to the side, bringing you with him in a snug embrace, both of you still breathing heavily.

A/N requests open! Hope you enjoy, anon! There is just a sprinkle of nsfw at the end, but I tagged it with smut just to be safe ;) i think i used the word shy like a million times. Reblog/Comment if you want more!

You and your husband, Robb, were touring the North and providing supplies to the smallfolk to support them through the Winter. There were many grievances to address and you held court at all the small towns.

You hated the attention, and it was a small mercy that you rarely had to speak. Even when Robb needed your counsel, he asked for it in private so you weren’t embarrassed. The eyes of the people on you were enough to mortify you, yet you bore your discomfort silently and stood by his side.

At one such hearing, Robb ordered the Lords of the lesser Northern houses to visit. You were seated next to him on your throne, Greywind sleeping on the raised floor at your feet.

“The old ways have served the North fruitfully for years. Listen carefully, one war does not make a boy a man and you are yet to know the ways of the world.” Lord Karstark said, wagging a wrinkled finger at Robb.

It was the third time he had questioned your husband in front of his Council. You were furious.

All Robb had suggested was reducing the great burden of supporting lesser houses with tithes from the peasants. Many smallfolks families were missing men and weapons due to the war, and winter was coming. It would be his first Winter as King of the North and he wanted all his subjects to survive, not just the noblemen.

You thought it was admirable. You also knew how hard he worked, spending almost all nights this week pouring over papers and accounts.

“Don’t forget yourself, I am the King,” Robb chided him. Greywind woke up and went to him, a silent threat.

“No man that calls himself King is a true-“ Lord Karstark began in his crotchety old voice. Anger coursed through your veins. How dare this senile old man try to insult your husband.

You cleared your throat. The hall fell silent. Robb frowned and turned to look at you. His wife was a woman of few words but they were all worth hearing.

“My King husband would have no need of repeating his station if you would remember it, my Lord. And if you cannot, then perhaps in the evening of one’s life we must accept our limitations and resign to things we are capable of.” You said calmly, yet sharply. Robb’s jaw dropped in awe.

It took Karstark’s slow mind a moment longer to process.

“Control your tongue, woman,” he said said, eyes wild, pointing to you.

“Disrespect the Queen and you will feel my blade,” Robb yelled, stepping down from the throne and pulling out Ice, just as the direwolf by his side leapt into action.

Karstark did not know when to keep hush. He retorted back sarcastically, and the altercation ended with him being dragged to the dungeons for his impunity. The other lords were also greatly displeased with him, for now they had no chance of changing the King’s mind about restoring their allowances.

You were glad to see the end of the day, and walked into the chambers of your current abode with Robb trailing behind you.

“Lord Karstark demands hot oil for his feet, did you hear it, darling?” Robb said, crushing the piece of correspondence he read. “To send his demands with servants even when imprisoned. The gall of him.” He chuckled.

“I’ve had it up to here with that old bastard,” you said angrily. You let your hair down and started running your fingers through it roughly. The more you thought of it, the more your anger flared.

“How dare he set foot in your court, dine and dwell in our hospitality, and feel entitled to disrespect you like that? I will not stand for it, Robb.” You said, tugging at the lacing and stepping out of your gray court dress.

“Age does not guarantee wisdom, darling. Experience does. And the old fool has none.” Robb said, walking up to you and resting his hands on your shoulders. He pushed your hair to the side and kissed up your neck from your shoulders to your ear.

You tilted your head to give him more access. After a while he turned you around and kissed your mouth. You savored his languid kisses. His hands slowly pushed your chemise over your shoulders till it hung just above your breasts.

You pulled away, and leaned back, his strong arms holding you up.

“I’m sorry for speaking out of turn, love” you said shyly. You were bold in your anger but the shyness was starting to creep in now. “I love you, and I cannot bear to see you insulted after you pour your soul into this Kingdom.”

“Don’t be sorry, you were fantastic,” Robb said, apparently unable to keep his lips off of you. You gasped as he nipped at the bottom of your throat. “I would like to see the wolf in my little wife more often.”

You giggled at his words, and he walked you backwards till your calves hit the bed. Your chemise dropped to your hips and his hands made quick work of finding your breasts.

Your hands came up to cover yourself.

“Robb, the candles,” you said, eyes wide. His own blue ones lit up with mirth.

“I know now that you are not shy, let me see what is mine, darling.” He whispered, pushing your chemise to the floor. You stepped out of it, naked as the day you were born. Your skin felt hot under his hungry gaze.

“Lie back, Y/N,” he said, licking his lips and pushing you down on the bed. “I wish to show you some of my appreciation.” He knelt before you with a wink.

Robbs hands found your knees and he spread them apart. Your hands twisted into his auburn hair in surprise.

Yall tumblr was being a bitch and would literally not let me make a new post for whatever reason. It also deleted this ask from my inbox, thank heavens i had a screenshot. Enjoy, will edit it later to make it more medieval :)

Your marriage to Robb Stark didn’t come with a husband’s love, but nonetheless brought with it all the duties of the Lady of Winterfell. You felt robbed, neither your father not husband ever spared you a second thought. Yet you dutifully married Robb, and now were running his household.

You sighed as you helped one of the servants count sacks of grain in the great yard of Winterfell. The southern houses were yet to send the grain you bought. There was meat to be salted and firewood collected. Winter was coming, you thought worriedly, and there was still so much to do.

A frown fell on your face as you realized you were thinking like one of them.

Two months passed since your wedding. You thought you would get used to Robb openly loving Talisa. Yet these last few weeks you found yourself more quick to tears than you ever were. You didn’t care about Robb per se, but that he was your husband and shared his bed with a wench from the free cities.

You couldn’t even plead for an annulment, as you had consummated your marriage the night of the wedding. You remember feeling his caring touch, murmured apologies as he tenderly made love to you. He was determined but acted out of duty, not passion. You felt a spark of hope then, in the throes of pleasure. Perhaps now that he had you, Robb would be true and send Talisa away.

That hope was fleeting. He slept in her tent every night after that, for the rest of the war. Your broken heart hardened towards him, your humiliation turned to resentment.

When he won the war and you were seated next to him at the feast, you had foolishly hoped Robb would honor you on returning to Winterfell, and shun Talisa, but she remained by his side in your place. You felt despair, there was no light at the end of this tunnel.

You felt increasingly miserable this morning, and felt very light headed too. You had not been eating these last couple of weeks, and woke each morning retching. A wave of nausea rolled over you now.

“My lady, are you alright?” You heard a serf question as you faltered. You felt him guide you to a pile of hay but you were dizzy and sweaty, and fell into the inviting void.

When you awoke you were in bed propped up by pillows.

Catelyn was sitting next to you, and gave you a tentative smile when you looked at her.

“How do you feel?” She asked you gently. She patted you on the head. You felt too ill to reply.

The maester walked in and asked you a few questions. You answered curtly, you didn’t care for any of the northerners, not even him.

“My lady, I have examined you while asleep. I am happy to say you are with child,” he reported softly.

Your mouth fell open and your head whipped to look at him. “What?” You whispered. Catelyn squeezed your hand reassuringly.

You had given up on all hopes of motherhood when Robb went back to Talisa from the second night. You felt tears well in your eyes.

“Are you certain?” You whispered.

“We will know more as the months progress. The child will come before winter starts, if what we know is true.” He said, gently smiling.

You started to laugh. The hopeless despair ebbed away out of you. You were filled with joy so pure you started to cry.

“I thought it could never happen to me,” you muttered, unable to control yourself. Catelyn cringed but gave you a sympathetic glance.

You knew she felt bad for you and sympathized with you. She thought her husband’s bastard was the end of the world, but her son proved to be far worse.

You spent the rest of the day in bed, the maester’s instructions, and slightly rubbed your belly.

“Just you and me now, love,” you said, smiling to yourself.

It was Catelyn who told Robb that you were carrying his child. When the maester revealed the news, she had hoped it was because Robb finally took you to bed. But he seemed surprised, and told her not since the wedding night had he touched you.

Robb drowned in regret that night. Talisa tried to touch him, to hug him, but he shrugged her away and went to peer out the window, feeling the crisp northern air. He wanted to go to the only other person who felt the same happiness as him, but you had chosen to give up your right of informing him about your baby.

The months that followed made Robb crumble with guilt whenever your paths crossed.

You were glowing at dinner one night, smiling and answering all sorts of questions.

Your face looked surprised all of a sudden, and Robb looked at you worriedly. You grabbed Catelyn’s hand and let her feel your babe move. She laughed, blue eyes lighting up, and assured you it was alright, your baby was strong.

Talisa saw the longing and pining in Robb’s eyes. He wished to feel his son kick too. Instead, he looked dejected and regretted the bed he made for himself by hurting you. He apologized to Talisa that night. He paid her handsomely for the inconvenience and sent her away back to the south where she could reunite with the Sept.

As the months passed you grew in size and walked funnily. You read to your child often, and you and Catelyn became the best of friends. You looked forward to the birth, sure you were anxious, but it would be worth it to hold your child.

When the maesters suggested you lie in bed till the arrival of the little lord, Robb noticed your continual absence at dinner.

“Can I go meet her, mother?” He asked Catelyn one night as she walked out of your chamber.

“Why do you hurry? Perhaps you must wait until the child is grown and you are on your deathbed?” Catelyn said sharply, and turned on her heels. It took a beat for Robb to register that she was being sarcastic.

“It is my child too. My first. My hier.” Robb protested, following her.

“And yet while she struggles, you have not acknowledged it, nor have you uttered a kind word to her.” She said sharply.

“I- I-“ Robb was at a loss. He didn’t imagine you could want his company in your delicate situation. He felt a sharp spasm in his stomach as his guilt grew, he knew he took the easy way out by assigning responsibility to you, when he was to blame.

“I am ashamed you are my son,” Catelyn said finally. Robb watched her go, his heart sinking in his chest.

He didn’t sleep at all that night, and the next, and the nights after that. One day, he couldn’t take any more of the anguish and decided to pay you a visit. It was the middle of the night and the whole castle slept.

Your door creaked as he pushed it open, and to his surprise he saw you still awake. You were resting against the furs, half sitting, and had a book propped up on your swollen belly.

“Lady Y/N,” Robb said softly. He had always called you Lady Y/N or Lady Fray.

“My lord,” you said, confused. You no longer felt any anger when you saw him, but he was the last person you expected to see at this hour. Let alone in his breeches with a half open robe thrown on top.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” he questioned gently. He carefully approached your bed till he sat on the edge, over the furs. You unwillingly noticed the strength in his shoulders, the hard lines of his abdomen. Maybe childbirth would lessen your desire, you hoped.

“I cannot breathe when I lay down. It’s like he rests on my lungs,” you said, affection infusing your voice as you spoke of your child.

“I’m sorry to hear,” Robb said softly. “I know I have not acted the ideal husband-“  He let out a self depreciating laugh.

“An understatement.” You said. He looked sad at that. Sad and pathetic.

He leaned forward and kissed your brow. “I cannot express how deeply sorry I am,” he whispered.

“I will try to atone for my sins. For you and for our child.”

“Robb,” you said quietly, eyes wide. “you can start by calling the maesters. I think he wants to come out.”

Robb sprung back and you noticed he looked younger than ever. His hair fell into his face.

“Now?” He asked, “Are you alright?”

You felt another sharp cramp hit. “The maesters, Robb. Now!”

Robb didn’t attend to his duties the next day. He sat outside your chambers, propped up against the wall with his legs spread out in front of him.

The maesters and even his mother warned that first babies were slow to come, he had better go about his duties. But his head was clouded with thoughts of you. He felt ice shards pierce his heart whenever he heard you moan or cry, but the silence in between was far worse to endure.

He prayed to the old gods and to the new that if you lived, he would spend the rest of his life making it up to you.

Robb didn’t wish to see anyone, and no one could convince him to go wait elsewhere. At last after sun down he heard the sounds of your baby. He waited to be let in, to see his child and heir.

It felt like ages before the door opened. Catelyn’s smiling face beckoned him inside. He found you seated on the bed again, looking drained but shining with pride and joy.

“Your daughter,” you said shyly to him, still looking at her. You rocked her as she let out a small cry. She did a tiny yawn and you cooed in response, your heart exploding with love.

“I’m sorry about how cruelly I treated you.” Robb apologized.

“Robb-“ you said, trying to stop him, but he cut you off.

“Neither you nor I entered this marriage willingly, but I have been most unfair. I do not wish to dishonor you. Love is something we build brick by brick, not momentary passion.”

“Why now?” You asked, confused. “Why now after all this time?”

“Because I’ve fallen in love with you.” You gasped.

“I know you do not share my feelings but we have a lifetime to correct it.” He continued, smiling cheekily.

A/N: Requests open! sorry! No smut in this but I swear I have a spicy part two in the works. Reblog/Comment for more!

Robb hesitated before he knocked on the door to Y/N’s chamber. The Stark direwolf handles confirmed that the doors lead to the chambers of the Lady of Winterfell.

“I’ve no desire to dine in your presence,” he heard her say even before he raised his hand to knock. The door opened shortly afterwards. He had to peer down to meet her dark eyes. His beautiful wife. Beautiful, but cruel wife.

“Always on the hour, husband.” She said, words dripping with sweet venom. “It’s unfortunate but understandable that I wish to dine in my chambers.”

“Y/N, I need you there. We have important guests this eventide and I must appear strong with my lady by my side.”

“I must apologize, my Lord, I have a headache. I hope you find your meal most satisfactory.” She said, her curtesy was the most performative thing. Bile rose the back of Robb’s throat. He was still looking into her glossy eyes when she shut the doors on him.

It had all been his fault, really. He’d wanted to continue the tradition set by his late Lord father, that a peasant man may dine at the high table every evening.

He did not anticipate, but he should have, that one day a northman might offend his Dornish wife. And when she turned to Robb for justice, he turned her away. He scarcely saw the hurt in her eyes before she picked up her skirts and deserted the hall.

The meal today was as drab as every other without her. Her prolonged absence did not go unnoticed and Robb’s mother offered to pay her a visit, to check on her health. He refused her kindly, but his concern was evident to all those there.

That night, Robb broke protocol and went into her chambers after the castle had gone to sleep. The candles in her room were still burning, and the fireplace overpowered the room with heat.

Robb felt a twinge of affection in his heart for his Dornish wife, maybe her coldness was borne from how cold she must feel in the North.

“A lot of my- our, subjects, remarked on your poor health these days. Perhaps you will quell their fears tomorrow evening?” Robb said to her. She was reading and half lying down under heavy furs, he could only see the top of her dressing gown.

“I can no longer pretend to enjoy your gatherings. Perhaps you will find someone more suited to these demands,” she said cooly, closing her dusty book and placing it on the bed beside her.

Robb was weary, in his cups, and crushed by her words. Yet she was the most gorgeous woman he had laid eyes on. Her hair, long and dark as the night, hung loose and tumbled over her shoulders onto the sheets. He had never seen it unstyled, not even their wedding night.

Robb walked over to her and stroked the side of her head gingerly.

“Whatever I have done to offend you, wife, it was not my intention. The serf has been punished, and my subjects know to hold their tongue.” Robb said. He didn’t expect her to snap back from his touch, but the movement crushed his heart.

“It must be comforting to never face a different perspective.” She spat out.

“That is not true,” he said.

“I wish to return to Dorne. My father is dead, and he sent me here to this marriage. My eldest brother has written to me assuring me I would be received as per my station.” She said haughtily.

“That is not possible.” Robb said darkly. “Not without a war, dearest. You became my wife the moment you wore my cloak.”

“Hardly. You find me so vile you slept on the ground the night of our wedding.” She said, her anger made her forget her courtesy.

Robb hesitated. She had entirely the wrong idea.

Her disdain of him was obvious from the moment they met. She thought of him as a barbarous northman and herself a lamb to the slaughter. He could not imagine she could ever come to love him, if he had agreed to a bedding ceremony nor bedded her by force. There were some fractures that never healed.

He would have to correct her silly notions. But the fire in her eyes told him it would be a long time before she could accept that she wanted him.

“You will dine with me, I will hear no protest. If it is my men that bother you, then we will eat breakfast and dinner together, alone in the corridor between our chambers.” He said.

She opened her mouth, words threatening to spill out. He placed a finger to hush her. Blood rushed out of Robb’s head when he felt her warm and soft lips against his skin.

“Un huh,” Robb said, shaking his head. “No more, wife.” He leaned down and kissed her, not shyly but not too rough. Her soft gasp made him harden in his breeches.