Robb Starks Imagines

Queen in the north

Crdts. Owner (this is kinda long since I put all part 2,3,4,5 and 6 altogether)

It was nice of Sansa to say that she was almost done poking and prodding and adjusting your dress, even if you all knew that it was a lie. Sansa had and affinity for dressing you up, claiming that if she tried it with Arya, she would lose a finger. You couldn’t say that the idea was entirely off base.

The dress was lovely. It looked a bit delicate in comparison to the usual style that ladies favored in Winterfell.  It was somehow different and you’re the same as the dresses that you favored on an everyday basis. Although you had lived in Winterfell for most of your life, your mother and father had lived much farther south.

So, you tended to favor lighter dresses, made of silk and lace in a wide array of colors. Jon liked to tease you that you were the brightest thing to ever live in Winterfell. What you didn’t know is how much Robb silently agreed with him. The dress was white, with layers of gray peeking through towards the bottom. It was lovely, although you had no idea how Sansa had managed such a lovely effect in the short amount of time since she had asked you about making a dress.

“I may have been working on it for a little while before I asked if it was okay,” she said, picking it up off of the bed and motioning for you to change into it. “But I knew that you were going to say yes anyways.”

You laughed, she was right. You had a hard time telling people no, especially when they were doing something so nice for you. After all, the Starks were your family. And if they were willing to put the time in to help you, then there was no way that you were going to refuse. It did make your schedule feel a bit cramped at times, in between dagger lessons with Arya and the boys, knitting with Sansa and tea with Lady Stark, who was forever insisting that you call her Catelyn, there were never enough hours in the day, something you often fought about with Robb.

“Well then, put it on!” Sansa laughed, tossing you the dress and pulling out her needle and thread, claiming that there were a few alterations that needed to be made. Sansa worked in silence, adding a few stitches here and there. And somehow, when she was done, the dress looked even more spectacular. She had managed to somehow make it fit you like a glove at the top, yet have the perfect amount of sway and flow in the skirts.

“Thank you, Sansa,” you said, admiring the skirts in her mirror. If you hadn’t been so caught up in how nice it was for Sansa to make you this lovely dress, you might have noticed the smug look on her face as she admired you admiring her dress. And you might have noticed that you were wearing in the Stark family’s colors. “But I really think that I should go see if your mother needs help preparing-”

“I was downstairs with her all morning. While you were fretting over nothing, I was making sure that you didn’t have an excuse to run away.” She laughed, guiding you over to the chair that was set up in front of her mirror. “Now, you have to stay and let me do something with this.” She sighed, motioning to the braid that you wore every day. Sansa took your braid in her hands, making quick work of fanning it out across your shoulders, running a brush gently through the ends or your hair.

“I cannot understand why you never take the time to style your hair unless I force you to. You know that anyone would do anything for you.” Sansa rain her hands through your hair, twisting it one way and then another, attempting to choose a style for that evening.

“I would rather spend my time with other engagements. And I’m sure that every single person in this castle has at least five things that they need to be doing at any given time. And shockingly, none of them include helping me with my hair.” You laughed, raising an eyebrow at her in the mirror.

“And does one of those things include pretending that you aren’t in love with my brother? Or is that simply a given, considering it is something that you do every waking minute of every day?”