Multifandom One Shots

Robb Stark [1]

I'm betrothed. I'm betrothed to a Frey. I need that bridge. I'm to wed another.

Despite his words, despite telling himself the same thing over and over again, Robb Stark found himself watching you anyway. You were admirable in appearance and yet...he had no idea who you were. You were a woman in his camp but the moment his eyes landed on you, he felt attracted and intrigued and afraid of what he might do if he spoke to you, he avoided you. He watched you from afar. He found himself wanting you from afar. He didn't know you but he wanted you anyway.

You were no soldier, Robb realized that quickly. You weren't much of a fighter at all, judging by the way he observed you, but you cared for the wounded and would leave at the end of the day to the tents that held his men, notedly the Bolton men. He wondered if you were someone's wife. You didn't act like someone's bride. He knew he should stay away, but after a few mere weeks of watching you each day between his walks and battle plans, he found himself approaching you. He needed to know who you were. No one else knew your name that he had asked. He finally allowed himself to talk to you for the first time. If you were someone's other half, then perhaps that would lessen his want for you.

You were stitching a hole in a shirt of your father's when you saw a shadow fall over you and you lifted your head, your gaze meeting those of the King of the North, Robb Stark. Instantly, you stood up and gave him a polite smile, but didn't kneel, unless he asked you to do so. It had rained the night before and you didn't want to ruin your dress. "Your Grace." You bowed your head in respect.

He was even more attractive up close. The same age as you, or a year or so older, he was dark haired and blue eyed and he had stubble lining his chin. You had never had the pleasure of being introduced to him, although you had noticed his eyes on you. You weren't overly observant but you weren't daft. You realized mere weeks before he was watching and admiring you. He seemed to like studying you, as if trying to figure you out and you knew he must have found you as attractive as you found him. You never approached him because oddly, you enjoyed his watchful gaze. You knew it would disappear when he found out who you were.

"Please, call me Robb." The King of the North insisted.

You smiled to yourself. "Robb." You nodded, but you felt strange saying it. It was almost unnatural.

"Pardon me, my lady, I seem to have forgotten your name." Robb spoke charmingly and you laughed, causing a smile to grow at his lips. He liked the sound of your laugh and he couldn't resist grinning at the sound of it.

"I never gave you my name, your Grace." You stated, holding your head up high with a smirk curling at your lips. It was fun teasing him already. "And I'm certain no else did either."

"And why is that?"

"Ah, your Grace!" Roose Bolton appeared at your side, a distasteful scowl in his eyes but a mask of emotion on his face. You've known the man your whole life; you knew him well. He didn't like the King in the North and that was not going to go away. He didn't like that the boy even younger than his firstborn was leading the North and didn't believe Robb had done anything to earn the title he was given. "I see you've met my daughter."

Robb's eyes widened. "Y-Your daughter? I wasn't aware you had a daughter, my Lord."

"Well, Y/N here isn't a lady, so you shouldn't declare her as one." Your father said simply, having caught the beginning of your conversation. You hung your head. "She's my youngest bastard, you see, my Grace. I have my boy, Ramsay, and I have Y/N. Different mothers."

Robb glanced at you, seeing your shameful expression and turned back to Bolton. "Well, Lord Bolton, do you mind if I take Y/N Snow for a stroll? I wish to show her the camp."