Robb VI
A/N: Sex scene, if anyone isnt keen then jump to the end for some more plot stuff.
Robb held Roslin tightly against him, feeling her body tremble. A wave of concern washed over him, and he wanted to ask what he had done, but deep down he feared the answer. Roslin pressed her face into his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of him—earthy and warm, a stark contrast to the chill that lingered in her heart. Robb gently pulled back to look into her eyes, searching for answers in the depths of her distress.
"Roslin, are you okay?" he asked, his voice a mixture of concern and confusion.
She hesitated, the weight of her encounter with Joffrey pressing heavily on her. "It's nothing—just been a long day," she managed to say, though her voice wavered.
Robb frowned, not convinced. "You can tell me anything. You know that."
Roslin looked up at him, her trembling gradually subsiding. "Please, I don't want to spend our last night together talking about him." Gently, she wrapped her hand around his neck and pulled him down to her, kissing him deeply, as if trying to anchor herself to him and not let go.
Robb pulled away, sensing her turmoil, and he didn't want her to bottle up her feelings. The expression on her face was one of surprise. "Roslin, please don't shut me out."
Roslin took a breath, the weight of the moment hanging between them. "I'm not trying to shut you out, Robb," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "I just... I want you tonight. I want you to have me like its the last time we will ever be together."
Robb's heart raced at her words, a rush of emotion flooding him. He cupped her face in his hands, searching her eyes for any hint of uncertainty. "Roslin, we have time—"
"Maybe not enough time," she interrupted gently, her gaze steady. "I want to feel you—right now."
He leaned down, capturing her lips with his, deepening the kiss as the weight of the day melted away. She pressed against him, her hands weaving through his hair, anchoring him to her. The warmth of their bodies ignited a fire within him, and all his worries faded into the background.
She gently broke their kiss and walked over to the bed, her movements fluid and graceful. As she removed her overdress, she revealed the delicate slip beneath, the fabric clinging softly to her form. Robb stood mesmerized, his eyes tracing the curve of her silhouette, drinking in the beauty of every motion she made.
He followed her, his heart racing, and positioned himself at the side of the bed, just in front of where she now lay. Leaning in closer, he let his thumb glide gently across her lips, savoring the softness of her skin. The warmth of her breath mingled with the tension in the air, and he felt an overwhelming urge to bridge the distance between them. His gaze lingered on her eyes, searching for permission, as he traced the outline of her mouth, feeling the electric connection that surged between them. In that moment, everything else faded away, leaving just the two of them and the unspoken promises that hung in the air.
Roslin pulled back slightly, her cheeks flushed, eyes bright with intensity. "Robb, I need you to promise me something," she said, her tone shifting to something more serious.
"Anything," he replied.
"Promise me that no matter what happens, you'll remember this night. Remember us."
He nodded, his expression resolute. "I promise, Roslin. Always."
He ran his hand up her thigh and under her dress as she continued, "Even after a long battle, when you're exhausted and there are a dozen whores waiting at your tent, pleading to share your bed…"
"I'll turn them away and think only of you," he replied, his voice low and gravelly, a fierce sincerity in his eyes. His hand continued to travel up and her dress raised as he did so revealing more of her body, he rested it on her waist as she continued.
"Don't lie, Lord Stark," she teased, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "When you're all alone, you're telling me you would turn away a beautiful woman?"
Robb raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Are you trying to test my resolve, my lady?"
Roslin leaned closer, her voice low and teasing. "Oh, come now. You can't expect me to believe that every nobleman doesn't have his weaknesses. A moment of weakness with a beautiful woman would mean nothing, wouldn't it?"
He chuckled, a rich, warm sound that filled the space between them. "How could I be with anyone else when I know the most beautiful woman in all the realms is waiting for me? Especially one who carries my child—my heir."
His gaze held a mix of affection and determination, and Roslin felt a flutter in her chest. The weight of his words wrapped around her like a comforting embrace, anchoring her in the truth of their bond.
Roslin's smile softened, and she felt a flutter of warmth spread through her chest. "Then I suppose I should be flattered," she replied, teasingly.
Robb's hand slipped from her waist as he climbed onto the bed, his broad frame looming over her, casting her in shadow. His presence was both protective and commanding, his gaze never leaving hers, filled with a raw intensity that made her breath catch. Leaning down, his warm breath brushed against her skin, lingering just above her face. He paused, his lips close to her ear, and whispered, "Take it off."
He stood back from her and watched as she did as he instructed. Her body was still trim and was yet to shown the signs of the child she carried. Robb felt a pang of longing as he considered how much he would miss this moment. The next time he saw her, she would likely be heavy with their child, and he had dreamed of watching her blossom. He longed to witness the transformation as their child grew, stronger and more vibrant within her.
Once she was undressed, she positioned herself back on the bed and Robb raced to undress himself. He walked across to her, tracing up her legs, across her waist and finally cupping her breast. He wanted to savor every detail of her, to commit to memory the way the light caught her hair, the softness of her skin, and the warmth of her laughter. In that moment, he felt an overwhelming desire to take his time, to explore every curve and contour, to memorize the way her eyes sparkled with mischief and joy. He wanted to imprint her image in his mind.
"Robb" She purred, "I need you", she pulled him from his daydream and back to where they were.
He smirked at her playfully and, with a swift motion, grabbed her ankles, pulling them down until she lay flat on her back. She let out a surprised squeal as she fell back against the soft sheets.
He positioned himself between her legs, and with one finger delicately touched against her entrance, she was already anticipating him and it took Robb no effort to push inside her. As he did Roslin bucked against him, so needy and wanting. He intended to play with her and repeated the action slowly, again and again feeling her writhe under him each time he did so before he eventually inserted another finger.
With that, Roslin began to softly moan, her voice barely above a whisper as she pleaded, "Please, Robb."
Robb had known lust before, he had slept with whores in Winterfell after Theon had dragged him to a local brothel but he had never known anything like this. With them it had been selfish, he had only thought of himself but with Roslin, he wanted nothing more than to hear her call his name, to feel her come undone on his fingers.
With one swift movement, Robb brought his head to her sex and began to circle Roslin's clit with his tongue. Roslin's moaning increased tenfold as Robb increased the speed of his fingers, it didnt take long until Roslin reached her peak, she bucked underneath him, moaning his name as he refused to stop until he was sure she had completely come down.
Robb brought himself to her face and kissed her deeply, and gently ran his thumb across her swollen clit. She jolted suddenly and shot a look of teasing disapproval at him as he laughed.
"You have to come back to me, Robb," Roslin said, her teasing tone underlined by a deep sincerity in her eyes.
"I, Robb Stark, swear that I will fight tooth and nail," he replied, a fierce determination in his voice. "I'll slay monsters and beasts, and I'll claw my way out of the Seven Hells themselves just to return to you." He lay beside her, drawing lazy circles on her stomach with his fingertips. "And besides," he added with a chuckle, "you're far too beautiful to be a widow."
Roslin couldn't help but laugh as she playfully shoved him away, her heart lightened by his words.
Robb rolled onto his back, feigning offense as he placed a dramatic hand over his heart. "I meant no offense my lady, I am merely stating a fact!"
Roslin laughed, the sound ringing like music in the dimly lit room. She leaned over him, her hair falling in a cascade around their faces. "You think that will save you from my wrath?"
He grinned, capturing her wrist and pulling her down closer. "I welcome your wrath, my lady."
Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the world outside faded away. "Just promise me you'll stay safe, no unnecessary heroics," she murmured, her expression shifting to one of earnest concern. "I can bear the thought of many things, but losing you…"
Robb's expression softened as he brushed a stray hair from her face. "You won't lose me. I'll return, and when I do, I want to hear your laughter echoing through Winterfell." In a sudden, playful motion, he swept Roslin up, flipping her onto her back with a gleeful laugh, his body hovering above hers. "But for now, I'll need something to help me through those long, lonely nights," he said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
Roslin laughed softly, her heart racing as he hovered over her. "And what might that be, my lord?"
With a glint of mischief in his eyes, he brushed his lips against hers, teasingly light at first. "The memory of what it feels like to make love to my wife" he murmured.
He moved quickly to position himself at the entrance and pushed himself inside her, she was still wet and ready from his earlier attentions. As he buried himself inside her, Roslin gave a deep moan that only encouraged Robb further, he pushed deeper inside her, feeling her around him.
He moved slowly, determined to enjoy every moment. He ran his hand slowly across her thigh as he pulled it up to grant him further access into her. Beneath him Roslin groaned against him getting louder and louder until he crashed his mouth into her.
They moved together each craving more connection, more feeling. Robb pushed into her harder and faster, knowing that his end was near but he wanted her with him. Reaching between Roslin's legs he began to quickly work her clit, which only caused her to moan deeper against his lips.
Robb felt the intense pleasurable feeling surge through his body as he came inside her, only for Roslin to follow not longer after.
Once they had both come down, Robb moved to pull away from her but Roslin stopped him and the two of them locked eyes.
"Just a bit longer" She begged, "please just a moment".
He was happy to oblige and remained where he was, burying his head deep into the side of her neck as she ran her hands through his hair.
The air was heavy with stillness in the frozen night. Robb found himself standing in the heart of a dense forest, surrounded by towering trees, their branches weighed down by thick layers of snow. The biting cold stung his cheeks and filled his lungs with each breath, but he felt little discomfort. His attention was drawn elsewhere.
As he stood at the edge of a frozen pond, he leaned closer to the surface. In the mirror-like reflection of the water, he caught sight of a lone wolf. Its silhouette was strong and graceful, a ghostly figure moving with purpose through the silent woods. Its fur thick and silver, nearly blending into the snow-covered landscape. Robb retreated and he noticed the deep impressions left behind—paw prints that carved their way through the pristine blanket of white. He knew he needed to find something, he was desperate.
Robb moved silently, his breath came in quick bursts, visible in the cold air, as he scanned the woods with growing urgency. The forest felt endless, the thick snow making it harder to push forward, but he never stopped. He pressed on, determined.
The silence of the woods was broken only by the crunch of snow beneath his paws. Robb could hear his own heartbeat thudding in his ears, syncing with the rhythmic steps that he took. Then, after what felt like an eternity of searching, he paused.
Ahead, through a break in the trees, lay a small clearing bathed in soft moonlight. At its center was another wolf, lying in the snow. Robb's heart raced. The second wolf looked injured, its fur matted with patches of snow and ice. It struggled to rise, its legs trembling, but collapsed again with a faint whimper.
Robb approached cautiously, sniffing the air, his head low as he circled the other wolf. But as it drew closer, Robb saw the truth — the wolf wasn't injured. It had just given birth. A small, wriggling pup lay beside it, its fur slick and dark, barely visible against the mother's body.
Robb, once frantic and driven, lowered his head gently to nuzzle the mother wolf, reassuring her. The tension of the search melted away, replaced by a deep sense of calm and completion. Robb felt relief, joy, and something more — a sense of renewal, of life beginning anew amidst the frozen world.
The pup squirmed closer to its mother, letting out a tiny yelp that echoed in the stillness. There was something about the newborn, something powerful and fragile all at once. It was a promise, a future that had been fought for.
As the wolves settled in the snow, Robb laid protectively beside the mother and pup, he understood now what he had been searching for all along.
In the distance, the first rays of dawn began to break through the treetops, casting a soft light over the scene. Robb could feel the warmth on his skin, melting the frost, but as the world began to brighten, the dream started to slip away, fading into the mist of morning.
With a start, Robb awoke, his heart still pounding in his chest, the vivid image of the wolves lingering in his mind. He lay still for a moment, the remnants of the dream swirling like fog around him, filling him with an inexplicable sense of urgency. Turning his head, he found Roslin asleep beside him, her features softened in the early light. The gentle rise and fall of her chest brought him comfort.
The morning light painted her in warm hues, illuminating the delicate strands of hair that fell across her face. Robb reached out, brushing a stray lock behind her ear, careful not to disturb her slumber.
As he watched her, he thought of the wolf he had seen in his dream—the one searching, searching for something vital. What was he searching for? And why did it feel so connected to him? The questions lingered like the fading shadows in the corners of the room. But for now, all that mattered was the warmth of Roslin beside him, the promise of their time together before the day would inevitably pull them apart.
Dawn arrived all too quickly, and Robb found himself dressed for his journey, standing at the Dragon Gate, ready to depart. He hadn't brought much to King's Landing, so there was little to pack—his clothes were all he needed for the road ahead, the rest of his belongings would remain until he returned after the war.
Yet, as he looked around, he saw carts brimming with luggage. Arya and Ned had brought everything they had traveled with months ago, each piece carefully secured for their return to Winterfell. The sight of the familiar belongings tugged at his heart, a reminder of home and the family he longed to protect.
Sansa and Roslin stood on the castle steps, their faces etched with sadness as they observed the men busily loading carts and preparing for their journey. While everyone else was poised to depart, they were left behind, feeling the weight of impending separation. Robb approached them, his steps purposeful, eager to share a moment before the inevitable goodbyes.
As the carts rolled by, laden with supplies and armor, Sansa hugged her arms tightly around herself. "I can't believe they're leaving us here," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Roslin turned to her, searching Sansa's face for understanding. "It's only for a little while," she replied, trying to inject some hope into her words. "Robb will return, and when he does, we'll be together again."
Sansa nodded, her voice tinged with worry. "Yes, and then he'll take you away, and I'll be truly alone—"
Her words trailed off as Robb reached them at the top of the steps. "Sansa, you must be careful with what you say. Joffrey will be your husband, try to make your peace with that" he reminded her gently.
Robb glanced down the steps and noticed his father and Arya approaching, the weight of the moment settling in. He turned to Roslin, his expression serious. "It's time," he said softly.
Sansa's gaze dropped to the ground, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Roslin placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, trying to offer some reassurance. "You're not alone, Sansa," she said softly, her heart aching for her sister-in-law.
Robb felt the tension in the air as he shifted his weight, the reality of their departure pressing down on him. He wanted to reach out to Sansa, to reassure her, but he knew words would only go so far.
Just then, their father reached the top of the steps, his expression solemn. Arya followed closely behind, her youthful face a mixture of confusion and determination.
"Robb," Ned said, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "Are you ready?"
Robb took a deep breath, his resolve hardening. "I am, Father."
Robb stood by, his heart heavy as he watched the bittersweet farewell unfold. Arya and Sansa embraced tightly, their arms wrapped around each other.
Sansa's voice trembled slightly as she whispered something in Arya's ear, a small, private reassurance meant only for her sister. Robb could see the tears glistening in Sansa's eyes, reflecting the early morning light like fragile crystals. Arya, always the stronger of the two, squeezed Sansa tighter, her own expression a mix of determination and sorrow.
As they finally pulled away, Sansa wiped at her cheeks, trying to maintain her composure, but the tremor in her lip betrayed her.
Ned stepped forward, his presence a steady anchor amidst the emotional whirlwind. He knelt slightly to meet Sansa's gaze, his eyes softening as he brushed a gentle hand through her auburn hair. The familiar gesture spoke volumes—a father's love, a silent promise of support even in their separation.
"Sansa," he began, his voice rich with warmth and sincerity, "I want you to know how deeply I love you." His words wrapped around her like a comforting embrace, soothing the anxiety that swirled in her heart. "I am so proud of the woman you are becoming."
Sansa's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, the weight of his approval filling her with a bittersweet blend of joy and sadness. She leaned into his touch, finding solace in the connection they shared. "I'll be okay, Father," she whispered, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her uncertainty.
Ned smiled, a mix of pride and sorrow flickering across his features. "You are stronger than you think," he assured her, his gaze unwavering. "Remember that, no matter what happens."
As they pulled away from the embrace, the moment felt suspended in time, a cherished memory that would linger long after their parting.
Arya turned and dashed toward Roslin, wrapping her arms around her in a quick but heartfelt embrace. "I will miss you so much, Arya," Roslin said, her voice thick with emotion as she held the girl tightly for a moment longer.
Ned watched the exchange, his gaze shifting to Roslin as he added with a father's gravity, glancing at Sansa as he said "Keep her safe." The weight of his words hung in the air, a silent plea mingled with the bond they all shared. Roslin nodded, her resolve firm. "I promise," she replied, the sincerity in her tone reassuring.
With a last glance at each other, Arya and Ned began to make their way down the steps. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Ned directed Arya to the carriage that would carry her on the month-long journey back to Winterfell. She climbed in, looking back over her shoulder one last time, her expression a mix of determination and longing.
Ned mounted his horse, his posture commanding yet tender as he scanned the gathered party, preparing for their departure.
"Sansa," Robb said softly as he noticed his sister's tears spilling over, her composure unraveling further. "I will be back soon. By then, you'll be a lady grown, and we can plan your wedding together. You'll be Queen."
"I don't want to be Queen anymore, Robb," Sansa replied, her voice choked with sobs. "I just want to go home."
"Sansa, you need to stop this," Robb urged quietly, glancing around to ensure no one was listening. "You have to take care of Roslin just as she takes care of you. Promise me you'll do that."
"I promise," Sansa said, her voice trembling but resolute, as she wiped her tears away. The weight of his request settled between them, a bond of responsibility that would tether them even in his absence.
Robb turned to Roslin, his heart heavy. He reached for her hands, holding them tightly between them. "I'll be back, I promise," he said, trying to infuse his voice with certainty. "No matter what happens out there, I'll return to you."
Roslin's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but she managed a small, brave smile. "I know you will."
He nodded, his grip tightening as if to anchor them both in this moment. "Just stay strong for me, and look after Sansa."
"I will," she replied, her voice steadying. "And I'll be here waiting for you, counting the days."
They leaned in closer, and in that shared breath, the world around them faded. Robb brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "I love you Roslin, more than I thought possible" he whispered, his words laced with all the emotions he struggled to articulate.
"I love you too," Roslin said softly, her voice a gentle echo of his.
Robb hesitated, then pressed his lips to hers, the kiss both tender and desperate, as if trying to imprint this moment in his memory forever. Time seemed to suspend as they savored the taste of each other, a bittersweet reminder of what was at stake.
Finally, they pulled away, the reality of their situation crashing down around them. Robb took a deep breath, forcing himself to step back, though every part of him wanted to remain. "Stay safe, my lady," he said, a hint of a smile returning to his lips despite the sadness in his heart.
With one final lingering glance, Robb turned to rejoin the others. He spotted his horse waiting by his father, who gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
"I remember what it was like to leave your mother for the first time," Ned said, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "We'd only been married a week when she waved me off from Riverrun. It was difficult, and I didn't love her yet—not fully, at least. I cared for her, of course, but when I returned, she was holding you in her arms."
"Father—" Robb began, turning to meet Ned's gaze. "Roslin is with child—"