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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 23: XX: Home Sweet Home
A/N: Hey guys! New chapter for you all! Good news is, Robb's back this time round!
Guest: Thank you!
Boramir: Thank you! You will find out about the letter in time, Myrcella is going to have forgotten about it for the time being, but it will crop up again.
Guest: You're very welcome.
So, just another reminder about the M rating, if you're not a fan of smut you might want to skip to the line break ;)
Right-ho folks, on with the chapter!
:)
XX: Home Sweet Home
Robb
It was early evening when he and his small band of men clattered into the courtyard of Winterfell. At once his eyes pulled to the main doors of the keep, seeing his mother, Arya, and Rickon all stood out waiting for him. He frowned slightly, noting Myrcella's absence, and dismounted at once. His thanks to Billy as he took the reins of his horse were distracted, his mind fixed on discovering the whereabouts of his wife. Before he could ask he found himself embraced by his mother. "Welcome home," she said happily, beaming at him when she pulled away.
"Cold enough for you?" Arya asked him with a smirk, and he swatted at her.
"Where's Myrcella?" he asked, ignoring his sister's question.
"When they called down that you were approaching she went in to make sure hot water was brought up for you," his mother told him, and he felt his tensed stomach relax. "She had hoped to get back out before you arrived, but clearly she was unsuccessful."
"Well, I suppose I ought to go and find her then," Robb said, kissing his mother's cheek, before sidestepping her. He ruffled Arya and Rickon's hair on the way passed, taking the steps up to the main doors two at a time. The guards bowed him through, and he gave them his thanks, bypassing the main stairs to head for the back one's which would find him at his and Myrcella's chambers more quickly. He took them two at a time as well, emerging in the above hallway, a short distance from their chambers. As he turned towards them he recognised the familiar golden head of his wife retreating down the other way. Clearly she was headed towards the main stairs and he hurried after her at once.
"And where do you think you're going?" he asked when he was mere feet away, his hands reaching out for her waist. She shrieked in surprise, turning around to face him with wide eyes. It only took a second for her to smile, and in the next moment she had thrown her arms around his neck. He held her tightly against him, burying his head in the crook of her neck and breathing her in. By the Gods he had missed her.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there," she pulled back from him slightly so their eyes could meet, "I thought I would have enough time."
"There is nothing to apologise for, I have you here now," he replied, and she smiled up at him again. He couldn't help but lean in and capture her lips then, slowly teasing them apart so he could deepen their kiss. A hum of undeniable satisfaction left her, and before he knew it he had her pressed up against the wall, her fingertips digging into his scalp as she fisted her hands in his hair. She pulled away from the kiss with a gasp in the next moment, and Robb took up his cause at her neck instead. He delighted in the little murmurs of pleasure that left her as he nibbled slightly on her delicate skin.
"Your bath…will, get…cold," she stuttered out as he continued his ministrations, his hands slipping down to the curves of her hips. He pressed a kiss behind her ear in response, before somehow summoning the strength to pull back from her.
"I am very tired, you know," he told her in an amused tone, his eyes full of intent.
"Is that right?" she asked him with a raised brow, clearly reading his mood with ease.
"Weary," he confirmed, "I'm not sure I have the strength to bathe myself."
"Hmm, perhaps I ought to call Billy?" she suggested, and he nipped at her waist, delighting in the slight giggles that came from her mouth.
"I would prefer a woman's touch," he practically growled at her, pulling on her hips so they pressed closer to his own.
"Any woman?" she responded, that brow raised again, and he kissed her hard for a moment.
"My wife," the two words dripped with lust, and she shuddered in his arms, her own eyes darkened with desire.
"I'm sure that can be arranged," she whispered, her warm, sweet breath teasing his lips.
"See that it is," he told her, pressing his lips firmly to her forehead before somehow managing to pull himself away from her.
Thankfully it was only a short walk back to their chambers, and he tugged Myrcella in after him, sorely tempted to ignore the bath and drag her right to their bed. It looked so inviting, and so did his wife. She seemed to have other ideas though, somehow slipping away from him and moving to pour some wine. He exhaled deeply. It was good to be back. "Don't be too long," he told Myrcella in mock warning as he made his way behind the screen that concealed the bathtub. It was emitting waves of steam, and he sighed in contentment, already imagining the warmth relieving his aching muscles and cold bones.
"Patience is a virtue, your Grace," Myrcella responded to him as he unwound his furs and tossed them aside before unclasping his cloak and letting it fall to the floor.
"Did your Septa teach you that?" he asked her, pulling on the laces of his doublet.
"She did," she confirmed, "did no one ever think to teach you?" He chuckled at that, shrugging out of his doublet before bending to unlace his boots.
"No," he answered simply, hearing his wife hum knowingly in response.
"I thought as much," she commented, as he rid himself of his boots, straightening up to tug his tunic up and over his head. He unlaced his breeches next, ridding himself of them before finally stepping into the water. A groan of relief left him as he sank down into the steaming warmth, his eyes closing in satisfaction. He had been right, it was just the thing to soothe away the near week of riding he had undertaken to get back.
When he opened his eyes again Myrcella was standing at the foot of the bathtub, his robe tied incredibly loosely around her waist and a cup of wine in each hand. She extended one out to him, and he took it with thanks, his eyes not leaving her. "To your safe return," she raised her own cup to him, and he did the same.
"To us being together again," he added his own words, and she smiled widely before taking a sip from her cup. He took a long drink from his own, almost draining half of it, before he lowered it again. Myrcella set her own down on the side table nearby before turning her attention back to him.
"Are you still feeling weary?" she asked him, slowly tugging on the tie that was barely keeping his robe from revealing her glorious body to him.
"Very," he confirmed, and the robe fell open in the next moment.
She shrugged it from her creamy shoulders before moving slowly towards the bathtub. Robb could not move his eyes away from her, unable to help looking her up and down. It had been far too long since he had been in the presence of her perfection. Quickly, he drained the rest of his wine, allowing the empty cup to drop to the floor when he was finished, before his eyes found her again. He shifted himself further up in the tub as she came closer, stepping carefully into the water in the next moment. Her dainty little feet came to rest on either side of his thighs, and he couldn't help but run his hands slowly up her calves as she sank down until she came to rest astride him. He was already hard for her, and he knew she knew it from the way her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she shifted her hips slightly against him.
He let his hands travel further, slipping over her smooth thighs, his thumbs slowly massaging against her soft skin. Her own hands travelled up his arms, mimicking the action of his thumbs when she reached his shoulders. Gods, he had missed her touch. He slipped his hands up to her hips, pulling her closer against him and eliciting a gasp from her slightly parted lips. "It's good to be home," he told her, moving his hands slowly up her back, which arched under his touch. Her breasts came within kissing distance at her action, and he would be fool to ignore them.
"I missed you," it was half whisper, half gasp that came from her mouth as he occupied himself at her breast. He teased one of her hardened buds between his teeth, and she moaned softly, her fingernails pinching crescents into his shoulders.
"Show me," he murmured against her skin, lapping his way up the valley of her breasts until he could latch onto the sensitive skin of her neck once more. Myrcella lifted her hips slightly at his command, her hands leaving his shoulders and slipping slowly down over his chest and lower towards his stomach. His length twitched as her touch found him, and he groaned out against her softness as she guided him into her sweet warmth. She exhaled deeply as she sank down onto the length of him, and he allowed his hands to roam back down towards her hips. Myrcella tilted her head back as she began to slowly rock back and forth, her hands resting on his chest as his came to her hips to guide her movements.
He kept her pace slow, wanting to savour her for as long as possible. Her head tilted back even further as they continued, irresistibly low moans leaving her beautiful lips. What else could he do but lean forwards and press kisses all the way up the exposed flesh of her neck? Her nails pinched into his chest in response, her head lifting back up. He pulled his own back, their eyes meeting with a frightening intensity. It was only a second. Perhaps two, and then her lips had found his, and he released a groan into her glorious mouth as her thighs twitched around him. She was already so close, and he was glad of it because he didn't know how much longer he could hold on.
One of his hands came up to fist in the hair at the base of her neck, their kiss becoming more furious, her hips rocking that little bit faster. His other hand he slipped between them, to touch her the way she always liked. The way that always made her body shake and writhe. The way that had desperate, wanton little cries leaving her mouth. The way that always made her utter his name pleadingly as he brought her closer and closer to her release. He wasn't disappointed. Her thighs clenched tighter around him, her lips pulling back from his. Each gasp for air was accompanied by a cry of anticipation. With each rock of her hips she grew louder and more desperate, and Robb bucked his own hips up beneath her, ensuring he gave her absolutely all of him.
It appeared that was enough, a strangled cry leaving her before she gasped out his name, her body trembling, limply falling forwards against his as she clenched him to his own end. She was panting against his shoulder, and his own breathing was coming sharply as he placed his hands on her back and rubbed soothingly up and down the soft expanse. Little tremors were still running through her body, and he could still feel her tightening around him every other moment. He let out a long breath of satisfaction, before pressing his lips firmly to her shoulder. His action seemed to rouse her, her golden head slowly lifting up from his shoulder.
Their eyes met, and they smiled in unison, her eyes lighting up as she continued to pull air through her lips more quickly than usual. "Welcome home," she whispered, and a near breathless laugh left him as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Most welcome," he murmured after catching his breath, "perhaps I ought to go away more often?"
Robb made his way down to the dining hall for dinner feeling utterly content and satiated. He had left Myrcella to get ready on her own after finally managing to crawl out of bed and into his own clothes. If he had waited for her then he didn't think she would have got much further than slipping out of the sheets and furs before he dragged her back beneath them. He was late down to dinner as it was, and he was feeling utterly exhausted, but she was more than worth it. His family were already present, and he smiled widely at them as he made his way to the centre of the high table, an undoubted spring in his step.
"Evening," he said to them as he sat himself down, his hands moving up to straighten his doublet.
"Is Myrcella not joining us?" his mother asked as he reached forwards to pour himself a cup of wine.
"She'll be here soon enough, fixing her hair," he told her. It wasn't a complete lie, he supposed. His mother hummed in response, but said no more as Robb began pulling dinner onto his plate.
"Don't eat too much," his mother warned him, "Myrcella has arranged a sweet course especially for you."
"Has she now?" Robb said in an amused tone, unable to help thinking that his wife had already served up a sweet course for him.
"She has," his mother confirmed as he tucked into his meal. No one spoke for a while, as Robb demolished half his plate in one sitting, suddenly aware of exactly how hungry he was.
"So," he spoke up after gulping down some wine, "what have you all been occupying yourselves with in my absence?"
"I've been learning the names of the old Targaryen dragons," Rickon piped up, and Robb nodded, taking another sip of wine. Dragons weren't exactly a favoured topic of conversation, but he remembered the Maester teaching them all about them when he was a boy.
"And how many have you learned so far?" he asked his youngest brother.
"Over thirty, I think," Rickon told him, and he smiled at him.
"That's good, Rickon," he praised, and his little brother looked delighted. "What about you, Bran? Have you discovered anything yet that will change the world?" Robb asked, eyeing his brother, and seeing an amused smile twitching up at his lips.
"I've been looking more closely at plants with the Maester," Bran told him, "I think there are new medicines just waiting to be discovered and brewed."
"That would be useful indeed, no doubt," Robb said, and Bran nodded his agreement. "What about you?" he nodded towards Arya. "You're being strangely quiet, did your tongue fall out while I was away? Or have you just done nothing but spar?" From his mother's pursed lips and Arya's sly grin he knew well enough that his sister had likely spent the majority of her time in the tiltyard. "
Ser Rodrik says I could be Master-at-Arms when he grows too old for the post," Arya told him, and he snorted in a rather undignified manner.
"I bet he said no such thing," Robb practically cackled, shovelling another mouthful of food into his mouth.
"He did," Arya insisted, and Bran and Rickon dissolved into laughter on Robb's other side. Arya was growing red in the face and Robb noted that even their mother was trying to hide an amused smile.
"Arya," Robb managed when he had swallowed down his mouthful and his amusement, "I have no doubt you are skilled enough with the sword, but you have no lasting patience."
"So?" she shot back at him indignantly, and he took a drink of wine before answering her.
"So," Robb rolled his eyes at her, "how do you suppose to teach young boys how to wield a sword when you will lose your temper with them for being hopeless?" Arya glowered at him, stabbing a piece of meat with her fork far harder than was necessary.
"I could so do it," she muttered to her plate, and Robb sighed, deciding to take pity on her.
"Why don't you take a few of the boys from the town under your wing," he suggested to his sister, "see if you can improve your patience with them. And for the love of the Gods, Arya, will you just try and remember that they are children, and that we all had to start from scratch once upon a time. They will not get good overnight, you need to work with them – nicely."
"I can be nice," Arya said, in a tone that suggested that she had never even heard of the word.
"You might want to tell your face that," Bran told her, and Robb pressed his lips together tightly to stop himself from laughing. Rickon didn't have the restraint, and he and Bran dissolved into hysterics at the murderous look that crossed Arya's face. Robb reached for the wine again, noticing his mother studiously drinking hers as he did so.
"You all sound like you're having fun," Myrcella's amused tone sounded just behind him, and in the next moment she was slipping elegantly into the chair at his side.
"Arya is taking on a new role," Robb told her, trying to use his most serious tone as he could sense his sister was close to losing her temper.
"Oh, what's that?" Myrcella turned her attention to Arya, whose tense features softened a little at the genuine curiosity in Myrcella's voice.
"I'm going to be training some of the boys from the town to wield a sword properly," Arya told her, and Myrcella smiled.
"What a lovely idea," she said happily, "I suppose not many of the smallfolk get the opportunity to be trained with lords, or ladies," she added quickly, and a satisfied smile spread across Arya's face.
"See, Myrcella thinks I'm nice," Arya told Robb pointedly, and he rolled his eyes.
"Are we forgetting that it was my idea?" he shot back at her, and she stuck her tongue out.
"Well, I think you're both lovey," Myrcella said happily, before turning her attention to serving some dinner onto her empty plate.
"Very diplomatic, my queen," Robb said in an amused tone, and a light blush rose up on her cheeks as he whispered his fingers along the back of her hand for a moment.
"Diplomacy is very important," she responded, and he grinned.
"Shall I pour you some wine?" he asked her, and to his surprise she shook her head.
"I have rather lost my appetite for it," she told him, "I have grown rather fond of that spiced milk. It is all I ever seem to want."
Robb chuckled slightly at that, reaching further down the table for the milk flagon. Usually it was only Rickon who indulged in it, but he filled Myrcella's cup to the brim, earning him a beaming smile and thanks from her. He settled back down in his chair, letting out a happy sigh as she started on her own dinner. "I do hope you are not too full," his wife commented after a while, "I have ordered a sweet course especially for your homecoming."
"So I've heard," Robb returned, "don't worry, I have not overindulged." She seemed satisfied with his answer, smiling happily at him before she moved to sip down some of her milk. The servants were already moving through the hall, clearing away the empty dinner plates. Myrcella was still only part way through her meal, and Robb noted that she began to eat slightly more quickly. He moved his hand to her back and held it there a moment. "Take your time," he told her quietly, but if anything her pace increased even more.
They were coming along the high table now, clearing all their plates. He kept his eyes on them, noting the cold, hard stares that Myrcella was earning when they looked to see her still eating. It was tempting to open his mouth and tell them to show more respect for their queen, but his mother caught his eye as his brow furrowed, her head shaking ever so slightly. He sighed again, irritably this time. His mother smiled at him sympathetically on hearing it, and he moved his eyes back to the servants. Those furthest away were clearly muttering to one another, and he bristled.
He knew chastising them would be a bad idea, they had to learn to respect and show kindness to Myrcella by themselves. If he forced them into it then likely they would only grow more resentful towards her. It irritated him, but there was nothing he could do about it that would not make it worse. Myrcella was a naturally kind and warm-hearted person, eventually he imagined they would thaw towards her. For now he would just have to try and endure the hostility they showed towards her and try not to let it get to him.
She placed her knife and fork down against her plate in the next moment, her meal not finished. One of the servants came forwards at once. "Are you finished, my queen?" she asked rather stiffly, and Robb bit his tongue, knowing his own gaze was hard as he fixed his eyes on the woman.
"Yes, thank you," Myrcella's voice was all warmth and politeness, a smile on her face. She got nothing in return, and Robb clenched his fist against the arm of his chair. If they were this dismissive of her in his presence then he dreaded to think what she had had to put up with in his absence. She sat back in her chair in the next moment and he immediately reached out to take her hand.
She turned her smile on him, her eyes soft on his. He returned her smile, rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. "You should have taken your time," he told her with raised brows, and she sighed.
"And give them more to whisper about behind their hands?" she asked him pointedly, and he shook his head. "It's fine," she stressed before he could say any more, but he was still irked, his head imagining the worst of what they could be saying about his wife.
"They will learn to treat their queen with more respect if they wish to keep their positions," Robb almost snarled, and he could feel his mother's eyes turn on him as Myrcella's widened.
"Promise me you won't," she gripped his hand harder, "it will only make things worse, please, Robb." Her eyes were wide and insistent, as she twisted in her chair so she could meet his gaze. "It's getting better," she told him, nodding her head, "the servants might still be cold but the townsfolk have been nice to me. Thom and his wife were here yesterday, and they were lovely."
Robb stiffened slightly at that, feeling his mother do the same on his other side. While he was pleased that the townsfolk were warming towards Myrcella, he could do without her striking up a friendship with Ada. "And," Myrcella continued, "the builders are happy enough with me. They will be even happier if you allow them to begin work on expanding the stables…" she tailed off, her tone persuasive and her eyes wide and hopeful.
"I intend to," he told her, and she looked delighted.
"Good," she said happily, "now why don't we just enjoy the rest of your homecoming meal? Ignore them, Robb," she squeezed his hand, "I have learned to."
"Very well," he huffed, still irritated but placated for the most part. Myrcella didn't seem too upset by the behaviour of the servants, and so he would do nothing for now. They were returning to the hall now, some with flagons of wine to replace the empty ones along the tables, and two with plates of cakes. They were set down at the high table, and Robb smiled at once, recognising the delicious smell they were emitting. "Apple and cinnamon," he said knowingly, his smile widening as Myrcella nodded her head. "I was reliably informed that they were your favourite," she told him.
"Very reliably," he agreed with her, guessing that his mother must have told her. "They look wonderful," he added, moving to grab a few before his siblings could demolish them.
"Well, I hope you enjoy them," Myrcella smiled, caressing the back of his hand for a moment before she too moved to take one of the cakes.
"I'm sure I will," Robb smiled, before he bit into one of the soft cakes. It tasted heavenly, and he knew he would likely be able to eat several more of them. He reclined back in his chair as he enjoyed his favourite sweet treat, thinking about just how happy he was to be home again.
A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed that, more next weekend!
:)
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