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Wolf Pact by DizzyDG
 TV » Game of Thrones Rated: M, English, Family & Romance, [Robb S., Myrcella B.], Words: 163k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 1k+, Published: Dec 24, 2015 Updated: Sep 13, 2018865Chapter 13: XI: A Cold Bed
A/N: Hey guys! Bit of an early update for you since I'm heading off for a few weeks tomorrow. Keep your fingers crossed for internet access, if I don't have it you'll know when there's no update next weekend. There will be one the weekend after though for sure. Anyway, hope this keeps you happy for now!
Guest: Yes, Cersei is certainly rather delusional. It doesn't help that she doesn't listen to reason or rationality either.
Boramir: Thanks. Next chapter is coming up so you will get back inside Myrcella's head. You're very welcome about the questions on Theon. Also, I totally agree with your second comment about the Kings controlling so little. They need to rely too much on loyalty to keep their throne. While that might not be as much of a problem for Robb given how devoted his lords are to the Stark house, it is more of an issue in the south. In this scenario Tommen is keeping his throne through the might of his grandfather, and the cooperation of the North. You can bet Twyin installed puppets at Storm's End and Dragonstone after Stannis and Renly were dealt with, and the Tyrells technically have a queen. Even so, it is precarious, as you rightly pointed out.
Reader: There will be a snatch of Arya in this chapter, but I think you can imagine her reaction wasn't positive. When Robb returns home they will have a proper talk, but that's a few chapters away I'm afraid. I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter again, and I hope you enjoy this one too. Hopefully I can update, but it won't be too much of a disaster if I can't. I'm not leaving anything on a nasty cliffhanger haha.
unnamed visitor: Thank you very much, glad you enjoyed it. Robb won't be gone too long, don't worry about that. Well, right now Robb and Myrcella are blissfully unaware of what Cersei is up to, so she can't spoil anything for the moment. Thanks so much again, and to answer your P.S, no that isn't the plan. I want to wait a little while before that particular scenario crops up.
Right-ho folks, on we go!
:)
XI: A Cold Bed
Myrcella
It was strange, waking up unclothed with her skin pressed so tightly against someone else's. Her legs were tangled with Robb's as she blinked herself fully awake, and she stayed still in his loose embrace for a long moment, trying to memorise everything about this moment. How she felt. How he felt against her. The hair of his legs was coarse and rough against the smoothness of her own, but the contrast felt good. It felt so very good. She lifted her eyes up to study his still sleeping face. He was a handsome man. That had never been in doubt. His features could almost be described as beautiful if it weren't for the sharp angles of his jaw. She bit down on her lip, wondering if it would wake him if she ran her hand across his cheek. His beard was softer than she had imagined it to be, that had been surprising to learn when he had kissed her for the first time. She had imagined it would be rough, that it would scratch and irritate her skin.
Myrcella was glad that it didn't, because she rather enjoyed kissing Robb. His lips on hers made her stomach knot deliciously, and made her want to be as close to him as physically possible. She had been the night before. They had been joined as one. For a little while they had almost been one person. Separate entities, but joined entirely. It had hurt at first, feeling him inside her. It had almost felt like an intrusion. She supposed it was in a way, but it was one that her body slowly grew used to. There was still a dull ache between her thighs, but somehow she knew that it was nothing a hot bath would not soothe. Besides, she had a week or more before Robb could be with her so intimately again, and she imagined that would be more than enough time for the pain to fade. It would not hurt again, that is what she had always been told. That it only hurt the first time. She bit down on her lip as she continued watching Robb sleep, wondering exactly what he had meant when he told her he would make it up to her on his return.
She could not deny that his kisses had left her breathless, and that his touch had made her want to shudder in delight. When she had moved herself against him and felt warmth spreading between her thighs she had felt her stomach clenching hard in anticipation of something that had never quite come. Perhaps that is what he meant. The thought of what that might feel like almost made her want to rouse him from sleep and persuade him to bed her again before he left. Somehow she imagined that he wouldn't. He had been determined not to hurt her any more than necessary, and Myrcella could not deny that being with him again would probably make the pain between her legs even worse. She huffed, wondering if she could shift herself from his arms and stretch her body out without waking him.
Slowly she shifted slightly, and was about to roll away from him when his arms tightened around her waist, a shuddering sigh leaving him. "And where do you think you're going?" he asked her groggily, and she glanced at his face to see that he had opened one eye. The beautiful blue of it was watching her suspiciously.
"I wasn't going anywhere," she told him quietly, "I just wanted to stretch myself a little that's all. I didn't mean to wake you." He huffed and groaned in response, releasing her from his embrace so she could roll over onto her back. She arched her back and stretched her limbs before turning her head to see him rubbing at his eyes.
"It's a good thing you woke me, I will have to leave soon," he said tiredly, stretching his arms above his head before he rolled over onto his side and looked down on her. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his hand coming to stroke lightly down her cheek. Even that simple touch made her tingle in any number of places, but she imagined that may have more to do with the fact that they were both naked.
"I'm well enough, slightly sore but nothing to be concerned with," she told him honestly, "I think I will call for a bath once you have gone." He frowned slightly at her, moving his hand to brush a stray lock of her hair away from her face.
"That is very cruel," he said, "leaving me with the image of you bathing alone while I am riding through the cold North." She smiled widely at that, lifting her own hand to stroke down his cheek as she had been tempted to do while he was still sleeping.
"I'll be here waiting for you when you get back," she reminded him, and he hummed in agreement, turning his head so he could press a kiss to her palm.
"Right here in this bed?" he asked, before kissing at her again. "Or in the bath?"
"Whatever is agreeable to you, your Grace," she said teasingly, unable to stop a giggle escaping her as he smothered her palm with kisses.
"I think either would be perfectly agreeable," he answered her, and she rubbed her thumb firmly up and down against his cheek.
"It will be a long week," she said quietly, and he smiled regretfully.
"I know," he agreed heavily, "but unfortunately it must be done. I cannot just allow what is happening at Torrhen's Square to continue." Myrcella hummed her agreement.
"I know," she sighed, "and likely I am just being foolish. A week is not so long, I am sure I will just about survive without your company."
"I am sure you will find plenty to occupy yourself with," he said, "you can start by moving your things into my chambers. And you can have some of the men move the vanity and the dresser if you need them." Myrcella could not hide her delighted smile at that. She had been thrilled with Robb's words from the night before, but unsure if he would feel the same about sharing his space with her come morning. Most lords and ladies she had ever come across had separate bedchambers, even the ones who were fond of one another. Men took mistresses; that was well known. A man could love his wife, but would never truly be satisfied by her and her alone. Myrcella had expected Robb to be the same, but if he intended on bedding mistresses then why would he insist she share his chambers?
"Are you sure you want to share this space with me?" she asked him.
"Why would I not want you here, you're my wife," he frowned at her, and she smiled slightly.
"It's just not the done thing where I am from, that's all," she soothed him, but the frown was still creasing his brow.
"Myrcella, you know, even if things between us were not this contented, I would never be unfaithful to you. My father taught me the value of honour, and that included honouring the woman I took as my wife. He broke his vows, and though I know he loved Jon as he loved the rest of us, I also know he never forgave himself for betraying my mother. I do not intend to repeat his mistakes, especially now I have come to care so much about you," he told her quietly but firmly, and she swallowed hard to try and quell the tears that had begun to sting her eyes.
"I care about you very much too," she confessed, her voice barely more than a whisper. She could almost hear her mother's voice in her head, but she ignored it. Her mother was wrong. There could be nothing better than affection growing between her and Robb. It was how a marriage ought to be. Not poisonous and bitter like her mother and father's had been.
"By the Gods, I am going to give those looters hell for dragging me away from you," he practically growled, and Myrcella laughed slightly.
"Why do you suppose they are stealing?" she asked him curiously, hearing him sigh heavily in response.
"There are only two reasons for it in my mind," he told her, and she arched one brow, waiting for his answer. "Through desperation, or greed." She nodded slightly at that, and Robb shifted himself up onto his elbow so he was propped above her.
"I hope you will not give them hell if they are desperate," she smiled up at him as he stroked his hand down her cheek.
"I would not," he confirmed, "but something is telling me that this isn't being done out of desperation. Supplies fetch a fine price later in the winter when stores run low and bellies run empty. That is when the looters gain, they will take a families earnings for an entire year if they can."
"That's awful," Myrcella said honestly, and Robb leaned in closer to her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"Do not think on it, I will make sure it is fixed, and the looters weeded out," Robb said reassuringly as he pulled away from her again.
"What will you do with them?" she asked him curiously.
"They will be placed on basic rations, and publically shamed," he replied. Myrcella nodded at that, thinking it was a fair enough way to treat those who sought to exploit their fellow townsfolk when desperation began to set in. "I really ought to prise myself away from you," Robb said regretfully before leaning into her again and pressing his lips to hers. She kissed him back gladly, feeling more confident now in the way she moved her lips with his than she had done the night before. He deepened the kiss in the next moment, kissing her so forcefully that she could barely breathe, before he pulled back, his breathing slightly ragged.
Without another word he rolled away from her, slipping out of the bed and walking towards his dresser. Myrcella's eyes followed his progress, unable to stop herself from admiring the muscles of his back as he stood facing away from her. Sinfully she allowed her eyes to wander lower, over the curve of his bottom and down the powerful muscles of his thighs and calves. When he extracted his clothes from the dresser and turned back towards her she fixed her eyes determinedly on his face until he had pulled on his breeches. As his attention was caught up with lacing them she allowed her eyes to wander his bare chest. She had admired it the night before, the strong muscles and the countless scars that marred him. In truth she thought they made him even more attractive. Made him even more of a man, and she silently promised herself that she would learn the story behind each and every one of them.
She could guess the one behind the three gashes that ran across his left shoulder and a little way down his chest. Only the dragon could have inflicted such a wound. She already knew the one behind the one on his right bicep, as he had told her the night before at her bidding. Vaguely she wondered if he would tell her about them all, or if some of them were too secret or too painful. She knew well enough how that felt, and so she made another promise to never push him on any of them. She had the faith that he would reveal everything to her eventually. Just as she herself had faith that one day she would be able to be completely honest with him and keep nothing hidden inside. Neither of them were ready yet, she knew that without even asking him, and she knew that he knew the same from words he had spoken in the past. "I can tell you don't want to tell me everything, and I won't push you on it, but don't promise me. Don't lie."
"What are you thinking so hard about?" Robb's amused voice interrupted her thoughts, and she instantly brought a smile to her face for him.
"Nothing in particular," she told him, noticing now that he was fully dressed, only his travelling cloak and furs left for him to put on. "Are you leaving now?" she asked him, and he nodded slightly, approaching the bed. Myrcella sat herself up, drawing the furs closer around her as there was a slight chill in the air.
"I'll have them come and set a fire, and bring you hot water for a bath," Robb told her, perching himself on the edge of the bed. She thanked him, scooting further towards him as best she could. He leaned into her, his hands cupping around her face to encourage her lips to his. Myrcella didn't really need his encouragement, she imagined she would always be glad to kiss him. "I will be back before you know it, stay warm," he smiled, and she nodded her head.
"And you," she returned, "stay safe." It was his turn to nod, before he pecked at her lips once more before moving away from her and going for the door. He turned back once more as he opened it, looking as though he wanted to say something else. His eyes were fixed on her for a long moment, and the intensity of his gaze made her almost shift uncomfortably. In the end he said nothing else, merely inclining his head to her and smiling once more before he slipped from the room and closed the door behind him. Myrcella sighed heavily and dropped back down against the pillows, her hands coming up to her head and the strangest desire to laugh taking over her. Here she was, lying in Robb Stark's bed the morning after their wedding, missing him already. Her mother would have a fit. She clasped a hand over her mouth to hide her smile, what in the name of the Gods had gotten into her?
"My queen!" Lady Stark's amused tone hailed her as she walked down the hallway, and Myrcella turned and smiled at her.
"I think it will take me a little while to get used to my new title," she told her good-mother honestly.
"I don't doubt it, I remember turning from a Tully to a Stark. It took a good deal of getting used to, but I would not change it for anything now," Lady Stark smiled slightly wistfully, and Myrcella would not have to be a clairvoyant to know she was thinking of her late husband. Myrcella was wary of saying anything else, not wanting to pull her from whatever fond memory she had found herself immersed in. Her black clothing was back in place today, and Myrcella wondered if she would ever wear real colours again. She had looked lovely in the blue, but it too had been dark and almost mournful.
"Do you have much planned for your day?" Lady Stark seemed to snap herself out of her daze, an expectant smile on her face.
"I was returning this to the library," she held up the book in her hand, "and I thought I might find Bran there. Then I suppose I really ought to write to my mother about the wedding, though I imagine I will be wasting my time." Myrcella knew she had likely said too much, and with too much bitterness, but Lady Stark merely smiled sympathetically at her.
"It can be hard for a mother to see her children grow up, to know they have passed under someone else's protection," Lady Stark told her, and Myrcella just about resisted rolling her eyes.
"I don't doubt that is how many mothers feel," Myrcella conceded, "but that is not my mother. Forgive me," she shook her head, "you do not need to hear any of this."
"I will hear anything you want to tell me, we are kin now, Myrcella," Lady Stark said kindly but insistently.
"I appreciate that very much," she smiled, "but today is not the day, I woke up in a rather joyous mood and I do not want to sour it." Lady Stark smiled at that, reaching her hand out to pat Myrcella reassuringly on the shoulder.
"You only need find me, should you ever need to," she promised, squeezing Myrcella's shoulder lightly before letting go.
"Thank you, my lady, but I rather think there are others who need your ear more than I," Myrcella said pointedly, catching sight of Arya over her good-mother's shoulder. Lady Stark turned her own head, and a distinct sigh came from her. Arya looked murderous as ever she did whenever she caught sight of Myrcella. They had not spoken since the incident in the crypts, but Myrcella could still feel the waves of resentment crashing towards her each time they were in one another's presence.
"She will get there eventually," Lady Stark assured her in an undertone.
"But until then I ought to avoid conflict," Myrcella said wryly, and Lady Stark smiled sympathetically.
"I ought to go and speak with her, again," her good-mother said heavily, and Myrcella nodded.
"Do not push her on my account. I came here expecting everyone to feel for me the way she does, believe me, reality has been a welcome surprise," Myrcella said, and Lady Stark smiled slightly, shaking her head.
"You're a sweet girl, Myrcella," she said, "I will not keep you any longer. Enjoy your time with Bran, and good luck with writing to your mother. You know where I am."
"I do," Myrcella agreed as her good-mother turned away from her and made her way back towards the entrance hall where Arya was still glowering. Against her better judgement she lingered where she was for a moment, watching Lady Stark approach her younger daughter and place an arm about her shoulders. Arya promptly shook it away, and Myrcella could distinctly hear raised voices, though she could not hear what they were saying. Likely that was for the best. She sighed heavily and decided she had lingered too long already, turning away from Lady Stark and her daughter and continuing on her journey to the library. The door was ajar as usual when she arrived, and she slipped around it, making her way at once down the row of books that led her right to Bran's usual desk.
He was there as she had expected, and he had clearly heard her coming as he turned his head and smiled at her. "Good afternoon, my queen," he grinned, and Myrcella couldn't help but return the gesture.
"Enough of that," she mockingly scolded him, coming to take the seat next to him.
"What brings you here?" Bran asked her, and she lay the book she had brought on top of his desk in response.
"All finished," she told him, and he smiled again.
"Did you enjoy it?" he asked her, and she nodded her head in response.
"Very much so, the description was so vivid, the only one I could not bring myself to read about was the white walkers," she reported to him.
"You are afraid of them?" he enquired, raising his brows.
"I do not think anyone is overly fond of them," she rolled her eyes, and he chuckled.
"There is nothing to fear from the dead, that's what my father always used to say," Bran told her, and she half smirked at him.
"Bran, I have no doubt whatsoever that your father was a very wise man. But on this occasion I think he may have been mistaken, I think there is much to fear from an army of walking dead," she said, and he laughed again.
"Robb took issue with that one too," Bran said, and she smiled slightly at the mention of her husband.
"I don't doubt it, not after what he had to face," she said, vaguely wondering if any of his scars had been inflicted by the walkers.
"Indeed," he agreed, his eyes searching as he pondered her for a long moment.
"What?" she asked him suspiciously, and he shook his head.
"Nothing," he said quickly, "you just seem a lot more relaxed recently, that's all."
"I suppose I am," Myrcella conceded, "things got better, just as you said they would." Bran grinned at that, a trace of smugness in his features that had Myrcella rolling her eyes again.
"I'm glad," he said seriously, and she smiled at him.
"Thank you," she returned, and he nodded his head, reaching out for the book she had brought back and turning it in his hands a few times.
"I could find something else for you if you like, nothing with white walkers, I promise," he grinned at her and she laughed lightly.
"I'd like that, thank you Bran, I need something to occupy me while Robb is away," she smiled, moving her eyes to see what books he had piled up in front of him. "I see medicine is your next area of study," she commented with a raised brow.
"I'm just interested, that's all. Mostly just the remedies, it's amazing what can come of a few handfuls of leaves," Bran said.
"I'm sure it's fascinating, though not something I have ever given much thought to," Myrcella told him honestly, and he smiled faintly.
"Fables of House Stark?" Bran offered her a book from the shelf behind him, and she reached out for it at once.
"This looks like a hefty read," she observed, weighing the book in her hands.
"There are a lot of legendary Starks," Bran said teasingly, and she smirked at him.
"Allegedly, at least," she said pointedly, and he laughed at her.
"You know many myths and legends are more than likely to have their basis in fact," Bran informed her as she inspected the first few pages of the book.
"Is that right?" she said vaguely, her eye already caught by the beautiful illustrations.
"Of course," he answered, "a thousand years from now the tale of Robb and the dragon will be legendary, and yet we know well enough that it happened."
"But a thousand years from now the story will be exaggerated beyond recognition," Myrcella countered, closing the book with a snap. "The dragon will have two heads, or become twice the size, and Robb will have wrung its neck with his bare hands," Myrcella raised a brow and Bran laughed at her.
"Then the answer is simple," he said, "when you are reading the tales from the book you only need think of the simplest way it could have happened. That way you will likely be much closer to the real truth of it."
"If someone reads Robb's tale that way in a thousand years then they will likely say he decapitated an overgrown lizard with a great-sword," she said with a raised brow, and Bran dissolved into laughter once more.
"I do not believe I have an answer for that one," he chuckled at her, shaking his head slightly.
"Well, if I have stumped the great Bran Stark, who is known to be the font of all knowledge, then I know I have achieved something with my day," she smiled at him. "And now, I will take this and leave you in peace," she indicated the book, and he inclined his head to her.
"Enjoy the rest of your day," he said, as she rose back up to her feet.
"The same to you," she inclined her own head, "I will no doubt see you tonight at dinner."
It felt strange, retiring to different chambers after dinner. She still thought of them as Robb's chambers, and being in them without him made her feel slightly on edge. Likely she would soon get used to it, it had taken her a time to get used to her own chambers when she had first arrived at Winterfell. Over the course of the day she had moved everything she owned into the space she would now be sharing with her husband. Husband. She still couldn't quite get her head around that, and it made her feel a little bit giddy every time she referred to Robb by that title in her head. Myrcella closed the door of the chamber firmly behind her once she was inside, her eyes moving to the fire in the grate and seeing that it was burning well. She would still add more wood before she went to sleep, but it was perfectly warm for now.
Slowly she began to loosen the ties of her dress, her eyes finding Robb's robe slung over the screen that hid the bath from view. She had borrowed it this morning, having realised that she would look utterly ridiculous retreating back to her old chambers in her wedding dress to retrieve her normal clothing. It had been so soft and warm, made of a thick flannel material that was far more substantial than her own robe. She bit her lip and wondered if he would mind her wearing it while he was gone. There was no reason she could think of why he wouldn't allow her too, he had said that he wanted her to share this space with him after all. She slipped out of her dress and swiftly dropped her shift before pulling the robe down and wrapping it around her. Gods, it even smelled like him. She inhaled deeply before gathering up her dress and shift and tidying them away properly before settling herself at the vanity to take the pins out of her hair and brush it through before bed.
Once she was done she picked up the book she had acquired from Bran and retreated to the bed. She snuggled down in the furs, propping herself up against the pillows before opening up the book. It was difficult to focus on the words, as thoughts of Robb kept drifting into her head. She wondered what he was doing at this moment, whether he was still riding or if they had stopped to make camp for the night. Gods, she hoped he would be warm enough. She herself couldn't help feeling that the bed was a little colder than it had been the night before. Colder without his presence. She knew it was preposterous, that with Robb's robe and the mountain of furs on the bed she would be more than warm enough. Her hand went to the side of the bed where he had slept, and she sighed heavily. How could she miss him next to her after only one night of it?
It was no good. She couldn't concentrate properly on the book to enjoy it, and so she snapped it closed and reached over to place it on the bedside table. Again, she looked towards the fire and decided she couldn't be bothered to get out of bed again to toss a few more logs on it. Likely she would rue it in the morning, but she would deal with that when it came. She snuggled further down into the furs, rearranging the pillows so she could lay comfortably. Myrcella tugged Robb's robe further up around her and sighed in contentment. She closed her eyes and determined to sleep, doing her best to ignore the absence of his warm body lying next to hers.
A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed that. I will update next weekend if I can, if not, it will be two weeks. Which isn't too bad, I hope haha!
Catch you later!
:)
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