Game of Thrones - One Shots/Imagines: Part Two (Completed)

Theon Greyjoy X Targaryen!Reader - Sit Still, Look Pretty

A/N- This imagine is based on the song 'Sit Still, Look Pretty' by Daya. The lyrics contain some of my favourite feminist ideals, and I love it. In this story Daenerys does not exist and Reader is the last Targaryen. I hope you all enjoy it.

Robb Stark's camp was bigger than you had expected. Sure, you knew he was leading a Northern army, but you had never truly imagined so much of the North to actually be following him. He was still a boy, though perhaps only a few months younger than yourself, and had had little in terms of life experience.

You had left Robb and his advisors speechless when you had stalked into their glorified tent, masquerading as a war room. There was no mistaking your heritage; the violet eyes that scanned them and the short silver-white hair was enough to make it clear. 

It had been Robb who had finally spoken, breaking the silence. "I didn't think there were any Targaryen's left in the Seven Kingdoms."

"There aren't," you answered, a small smile finding it's way onto your lips as you allowed your eyes to roam the map in front of you, "or at least, there weren't until very recently." 

"The Targaryen's have no place in the North," one of the men grumbled, his face contorted in disgust. He was a large man, though much of his mass appeared to be fat rather than muscle and you couldn't help but nod along with his statement.

"Indeed," you muttered along, "what my father did to your people was..." you paused for a moment, shaking your head, "unthinkable. But I am not him."

The man puffed up like an angry kitten, glaring at you. 

"She's got a point," a young man started, pausing when your glanced over at him. "My father isn't a good man, but you don't treat me differently for his actions." Your eyes ran over his chest plate, a kraken hammered into it, and a smile appeared on your lips.

"You were raised by the Stark's," the old man huffed, shooting a glare at the young Greyjoy. 

"And I was raised in Pentos," you murmured, releasing a small sigh, "it seems that there are some double standards among your men, Lord Stark."

"Hold your tongue, girl. You're speaking with a King." The man's face was growing so red by now that you worried he may just keel over from the pure rage flowing through his veins.

Your smile dropped as you turned to him. "And you are speaking with the one true heir to the Iron Throne, My Lord. You'll stop speaking if you know what's good for you." The man shook, as though he was ruffling his feathers, but finally gave in, his tense shoulders releasing as he gave a short nod. The young Greyjoy snorted, drawing your eyes back to him, a small smile appearing on your lips. "I want to join our forces," you murmured, finally drawing your eyes back to the King in the North. "After all, we both want the Lannister bastard off of that throne."

"And how would that benefit us?" It was nice to see that Robb Stark had a voice of his own, and you raised a brow at him.

"I have an army, albeit a small one. And I'd be more than happy to allow the North it's independence," you paused for a moment, smiling, "once I have my throne back." 

*Time Skip*

Negotiations had gone quicker than you had thought they would, and soon enough you were allied with the Starks. They had gone about sorting you accommodation as soon as an agreement had been made, assuring you that you would be included in any and all war-based discussions. 

The Greyjoy boy had, seemingly, taken a shine to you, insisting on walking you back to your tent and grinning as he paused outside. "You never told me your name," you told him with a smile, turning to face him properly.