They Call Him The Young Wolf ⚔ Robb Stark

|| Chapter 11 ||

I needed to update. Like the juicy/drama/emotional chapters are coming up guys. Prepare yourself. Chapters are coming.

Okay, that was a bad joke. I'm sorry.

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When walking into the throne room in Winterfell, one must be on their best behavior, especially in front of the King in the North. They must move with utmost grace and elegance, with manner and integrity. But that was far from Elizabeth's capacity, she was naturally clumsy.

She hobbled into the throne room, towards Robb, half drunk. No, she wasn't drunk, she'd never admit that, she was tipsy. So, fittingly, she hobbled into the throne room, towards Robb, tipsily. If it weren't her half-lidded eyes, it was the slur of voice she had as evidence to prove everyone's theory.

Robb sighed as he went up to her and waited for her to fall on him, which she did. She tripped over a ripple in the carpet and into Robb's arms. He embarrassedly carried her over to the seat beside him on the little podium-stage and sat her there, against the back of the chair.

"Elizabeth," he muttered close to her face, but she drunkenly giggled in response. He looked around the room at every person before stating, "Leave us."

"But, your Grace, we have—," the maester began but was cut off by Robb's glare.

"We shall continue this at a later hour," he said, sternly.

The master looked up at him, in disbelief, before giving in and beginning to shuffle out of the room. Theon gave Robb a very firm stare as he ushered everyone out, then exiting himself, leaving Robb and drunk Elizabeth alone.

"What are you doing?," Robb says in frustration, kneeling in front of her.

"Welllll," she slurred, "I was at the pub with the other soldiers, and I had one too many Ale's."

"Elizabeth," he warned, "Why do you continue to behave like this?"

"Like what, my King?," she says innocently, turning her head to face him. Robb's eye caught the bruise on her neck, freshly placed as well.

"I'm going to kill him," he mutters, looking at the bruise, which was evident to be a hickey.

"Robb," she giggled, placing her hand on her neck, "if you're going to kill the man that gave me that, we won't have a King in the North."

Robb's face flushed, realizing that the magnitude of his anger, and the level of his jealousy was so high that he had forgotten that his mouth was the one to place the red mark on her esophagus. His hand grazed her neck, running his fingers across his mark.

"Well, why're you drunk?," he smiles, amusement in his eyes.

"Because it's fun," she replies, simply.

"It's not fun, Elizabeth, it's extremely embarrassing," he scolds, then burying his head in his hands, "What am I to do with you?"

"What do you want to do with me?," she mutters near his ear, quite seductively. Robb shivers at her voice, a tremble being sent down his spine. He pressed his ear against her mouth gently, just being in awe of the effect she had on him as she lightly grazed his earlobe with her teeth.

There was a sudden bust through the door, with Talisa walking in. Elizabeth immediately sat back down on her seat, then covering her neck with the palm of her hand. Talisa then dashed towards Robb, holding him in an embrace.

He was in a shock to react back fast enough, so he just hugged her back. His eyes peered down at Elizabeth, who had a small look of hurt on her face, with a hint of sheer disappointment. Sweat slicked on the base of her palms, getting a little nervous with Talisa's presence.