Welp, it's certainly been a while, hasn't it? I hope you guys don't hate me too much, I've been working rather diligently on my Harry Potter story (with little success, I'm afraid.)
But anyway, I do have to put a disclaimer on this chapter - there are definitely some adult themes. Who am I kidding? There are lemons. Definite lemons. So if you're offended by that then this chapter isn't for you.
Anyway, you have been warned so... on with the show...
Chapter Nineteen: Dinner and a Show
I had never really understood it when Corlin had said that his girls ate like they wanted to impress him. Was eating an arena that warranted impressing? How exactly did one go about this matter?
However, watching Lysa Arryn picking at her stew while fawning over Lord Baelish quickly put my confusion to rest. Robb's face held the same kind of strain that I'm sure even my desperately crafted mask couldn't hide.
Not to mention that boy. He simply couldn't be a moment out of Lysa's grip, his face always pulled into this simper that made my skin itch.
"Oh but my dear Robin has just learned his letters!" Lysa exclaimed suddenly, pulling away from feeding the boy a steaming rice stew. Her face tugged into a gruesome masquerade of a smile, nudging her son's arm. "Go on, my dearest. Show them how smart you are."
Beside me, Robb's face had gone slack with boredom, his eyes occasionally lighting with some sort of fury when Lord Baelish's eyes drifted to the considerable mass of cleavage bursting from my pink gown. I had wanted to go more towards the bimbo role tonight so I had borrowed a dress from one of my lady's in waiting. A good choice since Baelish's ferrety little mouth curled into a derisive smirk whenever I opened my mouth.
Even Catelyn was wearing an expression halfway between agony and despair. Even that was somehow better than the blank look that had smoothed over Sansa's face, her knife and fork tapping rhythmically at the plate in front of her. Obviously, ignoring what was right in front of her had become some sort of an art form.
"F, G, two, three…" Robin continued on, gnawing away at his thumb as his mother clapped along with him. I resisted the urge to scream, digging my hands into the thin, gossamer skirt at my thigh until I was able to pinch down on a decent chunk of skin.
In all honesty, a child rarely learned their letters and numbers. If they were living in a hovel on the side of the road. For a boy Robin's age to not fully understand his letters when he was being plumped up for his father's position as Lord of the Vale… It was only a step short of a disgrace. Even my own father with his plethora of children had educated us enough to be decent livestock to sell off to the lords and ladies of the land.
"Oh bravo, my darling!" Lysa cooed, clapping loudly even as Lord Bealish gave a pained smile. "Bravo! I doubt any child is equal to you."
Hiding my sneer, I stuffed a whole slice of chicken into my mouth. There was no response that I could give that would get me further through this horrendous encounter. Beneath the table, one of Robb's hands had begone to toy with the fabric of my skirts, his eyes still glazed. Discreetly, I slapped at his hands, receiving only a slight flick from him in return as he went back to tugging at the material.
"Lady Frey- Oh, my apologies, Your Grace-" The sickly sweet smile that Lord Baelish gave me made it all too clear that the mistake was more like a deliberate jab. "I wondered when you learned your letters and such. Lady Catelyn was whip-smart when she was younger so I know that her boys must have learned it very young."
My eyes narrowed at the question. It was a poorly veiled insult and really - I had no idea how anyone could stomach the man. He thought so highly of his brain but one stumble into the power that Lysa's title could give him and he was a slobbering oaf.
"Our father was rather keen on our education as well, Lord Baelish," Robb rumbled out, his eyes crackling with barely contained malice as his hand curled around my thigh sending an agitating burn through my veins. His hands were so big that it almost reached halfway around, a fact that made me irrationally flustered.
Sansa gave a delicate cough. "My sister and I were the first to learn our words and correspondences actually," she cut in lightly, giving a small smile.
Catelyn smiled, her eyes warming for a moment. "Yes. Eddard was so intent on allowing you the freedom that an education would give…" Her words stumbled off into melancholy silence. The sort of silence that can only be understood by someone who has lost someone that they wanted to spend their lives with.
I barely caught the tilt of Lord Baelish's lips, the disgusting sort of possessiveness that flashed through his eyes as he eyed Catelyn. He would have gobbled her up, I realized. If she had been anywhere near him after Eddard's death, he would have towed her under the waves like a creature of the sea.
Lysa's mouth twisted sourly, something venomous seeping into her eyes as they flicked between the two. Say what you would about the woman but at least she was so obsessive that she had developed almost a sixth sense when it came to Baelish.
"I was one of the first to learn to read among my sisters," I cut in, adding a short giggle to punctuate my point. My eyes cut over to Robb, giving my lashes a bat as he smirked. True, I wanted to look as dumb as possible while I was in front of Lord Baelish but playing myself too into that one role would make my act apparent. "In the Frey household, we learned our words before anything else."
A single pepper grey brow rose, Baelish's eyes narrowing slightly as I beamed across the table at him. "And what does the rest of your studies consist of?"
He was testing me. What a pig. Did he really think that my father was so incompetent that he couldn't even see the benefit of teaching us to read? Robb's shoulders had gone up angrily beside me, a tick in his jaw going off occasionally as he glared across the table at the little man. If he wanted to, he could rip Lord Baelish's throat out. I grinned, delighted by the image.
"My sisters and I were taught the daily household duties of a wife to a large estate." There was that derisive little smirk again. "And my brother was given lessons on - well, I don't particularly know." I gave a ditzy laugh. "Manly things I suppose? Robb darling, what do men learn?"
I widened my eyes as I turned to my husband, his head tipped to the side as his lips twitched.
Lord Baelish gave a small laugh, his eyes crinkling in obvious joy - an astonished sort of joy as if he couldn't particularly believe his good luck. "Oh, I'm sure that you needn't worry your pretty little head about such things, dear," he said on a laugh. Beside me, Robb let out a low growl, so low that I was sure only I could hear it. "Queens rarely need to use their heads in such a way."
My blood boiled. This was exactly what I wanted, I told myself. But a million miles below me, the vines that I had felt at the base of this horrid, little tower flexed, clawing into the stone slabs below and causing a tremor to shiver up to us.
"Oh, dear!" Lysa exclaimed, clutching up her son as he gave a small whimper. The silverware jangled together, clicking against each other nervously. All around us the stones shivered, scraping along each other until even the gathered guards stumbled. Lysa's eyes flicked nervously around. "That's never happened before."
"Rather unsettling," Catelyn murmured as I took a deep breath, trying desperately to calm myself. Beneath me, I felt my vines wither, lashing out against my panicked attempts to calm them. My rage was theirs. My hatred beat through them. And if I wasn't going to handle this than they were.
I shut my eyes, thinking back to the plan. The long term plan. And that was to figure out Baelish's motives before I did anything rash. Or worse, I set in motion something that I couldn't undo. I opened my eyes, watching Catelyn and Sansa whisper to each other across the table, their brows knit in concern. I needed to be careful. This wasn't simply about who was the most powerful in this room. This was about who could think ahead. And right now, I suspected that Lord Baelish had too many cards hidden away for me to go toe to toe with him. No. It was better to wait.
Fully in control now, I settled back, putting on a grin that I hoped made me look light-hearted and empty-headed. Of course, that faltered a bit when I noticed the attentive way that Robb was staring at me, those blue eyes sharp and chilling. And just behind him, I caught the intent gaze of Baelish as well. Which wouldn't do at all.
"Darling," I whined, falling dramatically into Robb's side to his obvious surprise if the way that he jerked was any indication. "That made me feel so sick." I tipped my head up to his, giving him a shy smile. "Can you take me to bed now?"
The ensuing silence was deafening on more levels than one. Across the table, Catelyn and Sansa had stopped their chatter, their faces twisted into identical expressions of horror. And from the glazed expression that had stilled Robb's face, he was equally as shocked. I even saw a little dusting of red color his ears, his adams apple bobbing appealingly. He was so dashingly handsome. Especially when he was embarrassed. The thought flashed across my mind before I could stop it, a sadistic sort of glee making my hands tighten in his collar.
"Oh to be so young again," Lysa said dreamily, her arms clutching Robin to her chest with such force that he let out a squeak. Beside her, Lord Baelish gave a disinterested smile, his interest in me having obviously dimmed. Lysa's spidery little hands reached out to flit along his collar - the gesture reminding me of a man near-drowning. "Why just last night-"
"Yes," Baelish cut her off, tipping his chin in our direction. "Last night we didn't hear you two. After all your boasting we thought we would have some competition."
The very thought made my stomach roll. I hid my resulting gag by turning more into Robb's shoulder, his warmth, and familiar scent a balm against my now throbbing head. It was an absolute delight to know that the footman that had attended us last night had scampered off to Lysa with the information about our nightly habits.
"Odd," was Robb's bland response. "If you'll excuse us…"
I squeaked as he scooped me up, going airborn for a moment as he hefted me into his chest and then carried me toward the doors with a hand under my back and knees. Our exit was accompanied with the cackles of both Lord Baelish and Lysa. Which was a sound that I never wanted to hear at my back ever again.
"Let me down," I hissed as soon as we had rounded the corner, a pair of attendants following at a distance. Robb's gave flicked to me briefly, obviously unswayed. His face showed a lack of strain that was admirable even under my current mood of general aggravation.
"I don't like the idea of people chattering about our bedroom activities." The low, raw words were enough to startle me into submission. Startled, my fingers curled into the leather of his overshirt, scraping along my fingers. I think it said something rather morbid about our surroundings that he had rarely taken off his sturdier clothes, choosing to stay with leather instead of cotton. His eyes were brooding as they stayed on the corridor ahead of us.
"I'm sorry that I opened those doors up to the rest of the Vale," I whispered finally, getting a dark glance from him as he rounded the final corner to our halls. Situated at our doors were some of our own men, finally having gotten a full night's sleep and a good meal. Silently they opened the doors, their heads bowing. "But we needed to know if the servants were instructed to report on our every move."
"Whoever come's by, send them away," Robb said, his words clipped and hard as we came to a stop in the lamplit confines of our room.
"Yes, Your Grace," the two murmured and I glanced around Robb's imposing figure, catching sight of the raised brows as the pair shut the doors softly behind us. Dimly, I realized that I was still in Robb's arms. Beneath me, the muscles in his arms tensed, his hands flexing where they held me.
"I don't like the idea of people thinking about you moaning," he growled, his voice so soft that it doesn't register at first. His eyes swirl from blue to black and just that one glance makes me hot. Swallowing down the sudden dryness in my mouth, I try and squirm from him, only getting my way because he decides to let my legs drop to the ground. But he keeps an arm around my waist, my chest flat against his. His eyes are heavy and dark as he leans closer to me. "Now everyone in this goddamn place is thinking about what you're like in bed - how you sound, how you…"
He doesn't finish, a riot of curls falling into his eyes as he leans closer - close enough for me to reach up and - and kiss him. All I would have to do was lean a little bit closer, go up on my tiptoes. Just like before - I shake my head, trying to shake some sense into myself as well.
"Robb," I whisper but that one word sounds raw and I have to start over as his lids go down, his breath blowing against my lips warmly. "Robb, this isn't-"
"Real?" he snarls, making me flinch as thunder lights his eyes. "Is that what this is for you, Willa? A game? You get to go around, toying with me-"
"Toying-" I splutter, blinking up at him in alarm as his free hand curls around the nape of my neck, dragging me close enough that I can feel the ghost of his lips against mine as he speaks.
His face hardens, something raw and almost feral twist his face. He looks like he's just a step away from pure agony. "Do you know how maddening it is to have your hands all over me one moment and then gone? How much agony that you put me through from one second to the next?"
I blinked, heat curling along my neck. "I-I-"
"Of course you don't," he snarled, his lips dragging along mine in a way that made me ache for more. He was wrong. Having him this close drove me mad. It tested me in ways that I didn't understand. Our first time had been rough and brutal, a way to finish a contract that had been made from the blood of my innocence.
But his kisses, his light touches - they made me ache. They set my very blood on fire. His hands tightened on me, his eyes flickering and then dimming as he stared down at me.
Vulnerability crashed down on me in a sudden, cold flash. How could I tell him all those things? Men didn't marry for love. It was better to keep him far away. It was better to lie.
"I'm sorry if I have hurt your feelings, Robb," I choked out, flinching at the way that his eyes narrowed, his lips tightening. "But this is to protect us. This is all - well, just think of it like a play."
I winced at the word, dread making it impossible to say anything more as let out a long, low growl.
"A play?" he hissed, his eyes flashing sharply.
"Yes?" I said uncertainly. His jaw tightened, his eyes rolling with anger.
"Well, this is about to be the best fucking play you've ever gone to, kitten," he whispered and my mind spun dumbly. What in the Seven did that mean-?
Without another word, Robb lifted me walking me backwards until my back hit the hardwood of the door.
"Robb," I hissed, gasping as he sunk to his knees, his forearm keeping me pressed tightly to the door. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"
"The Lord and Lady of Arryn want some entertainment tonight, kitten," he drawled, his free hand lifting up my skirts as he gave me a look that was glittering with anger.
"Robb Stark," I snarled, grabbing onto the mass of his curls and yanking until he gave a growl. "You better stop this nonsense."
"The next sound coming out of your mouth better be something closer to a scream," he rumbled and I gasped as I felt his hand skim over the bare flesh of my thigh and then up further.
And then that hand that was keeping me against the door was underneath my thighs, hoisting me up as his bare hands dug into my ass. My skirts were bunched up to my waist, my fingers still tangled into Robb's hair as he kept me against the door, his shoulders pressed me wide open for him.
"Gods, you're even more beautiful than I thought you would be," he growled and his breath rolled over my lips, brushing along the most intimate part of me. Unwanted, I shuddered, my toes curling.
A short scream burst from my throat as Robb's tongue rolled across my slit in one long lick. My head spun, my thighs quivering as my most intimate parts clenched. He wasn't -
My fingers tightened in his hair as his tongue rolled around a something that made my toes curl, sparks zinging through me. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't even see anymore because what he was doing was… amazing. I could feel how wet I was, feel the slick slide of him as he devoured me.
Robb's fingers needed my ass rhythmically as he circled that little spot. Against my sensitive flesh, his stubble was rough, abrasive as he ground against my lips.
"Robb-" I whimpered out brokenly, trying to fight against the sudden feeling that I was sprinting towards the top of a hill with no ability to stop. Fear clenched through me, my pussy clenching around his searching tongue.
He gave a long groan, the sound vibrating across my lips, forcing a scream from me.
"When you cum, I need you to scream, kitten," Robb says and I sob as he pulls away. Was he going to stop? I squirm, yanking on his hair until he gives a low, anguished groan, staring up at me like I'm so much more than I actually am. Like I'm a goddess come to bless him. His cheek rubbed along my thigh, his beard wet with my juice and harsh against my skin. Expression one of agony, he turns, his teeth biting lightly into my thigh until I give a whimper.
His eyes flick up to meet mine, his gaze hot with possessiveness. Desperately, I nod, tugging at his curls. Anything to make the ache go away.
When his tongue drags along my lips again, I see stars. He flattened his tongue, rolling that little button enough to make me go blind. I was a moaning mess by now, incoherent and lost. He was in control. Wasn't he always when it came to my body?
My core began to tingle as my body went tight. Like teetering on the edge of a ledge, I felt something tip, something amazing. Something that made me want to scream and cry and ask for more all at once. And then Robb forced his tongue into my hole and I was falling, screaming as I tripped and tumbled into the middle of something that made my toes curl and a hot blossom of ecstasy bloom right at my core.
Light's popped behind my vision, my head going fuzzy as I slumped, clutching at Robb for support as he gently curled me into his chest. Mindlessly I went, glad for his warmth and his musky scent.
"Gods, you're a fucking goddess," he growled, his hands running over my possessively. "And you taste like fucking candy."
Even in the dazed state that I was in, I had to disagree. If anyone was a God it was Robb. And a dangerous one at that.
You know what to do.