Game of Thrones - One Shots/Imagines: Part Three

Robb Stark X Greyjoy!Reader - Try a Little Tenderness

A/N - This chapter is based on the song 'Try a Little Tenderness' by Otis Redding. I hope you all enjoy it.

When the royal family had come to Winterfell, you had been a little out of sorts. Every inch of the place you had grown to love was filled with strangers, all of them dressed in their finery, and you stood out like a sore thumb in the gown you had sewn yourself. You had never been too fantastic with a needle and thread, and you were lucky the thing even stayed in one piece, with its frayed hem and awkward fit. Seven Hells, it looked ridiculous. But Septa Mordane had insisted that both you and Sansa would wear a dress of your own making. 

Theon had found it quite funny when he had first spotted you in the crowd, looking absolutely miserable in the sloppily made dress, chuckling to himself as he made his way across the Great Hall. "Mother would be so proud," he teased, watching as you rolled your eyes at his comment. 

"Dick," you muttered back, causing another chuckle to fall from him.

"That isn't very ladylike." 

You shot him a glare, raising an eyebrow in his direction. "Say one more word and I'll show you bloody ladylike," you stated, finally allowing a small smile to come to your lips. "Septa Mordane claimed that this weekend would involve finding me a husband, but I don't think anyone will be too interested when I'm dressed like this," you uttered, gesturing at your body slightly. "I look ridiculous."

"You do," he murmured. "These boys from the capital wouldn't be right for an Iron Islander anyway. Most of them look like they could be defeated by a brisk wind."

You snorted at his comment, your eyes drifting over the crowd slowly. "You have a point."

"I'll find you a proper husband at some point, anyway." 

"Oh Gods, I hope not-"

"Evening," Robb's voice interrupted, catching your attention and silencing you. "You look nice."

You sighed. "Don't you start. Theon's already had his laugh at my expense," you hummed, shaking your head when he grinned down at you. 

"With that," Theon started, rolling his sleeves up and giving you his sweetest smile. "I intend on finding the prettiest girl in this room, and convincing her that I'm in need of love." 

"You're disgusting," you uttered, rolling your eyes again as he pushed off of the wall and made his way into the crowd.

"You shouldn't worry about it, you know," Robb murmured, nudging you with his elbow as he shifted to lean against the wall beside you, and drawing your attention back to him. "No man will be looking at your dress with a face like yours." 

Your heart dropped at his comment, your mouth falling open in horror. "And what's that supposed to mean?" you spat, a frown etching itself deep onto your lips. 

Robb's eyes widened in realisation. "I didn't-" he paused for a moment, floundering under your gaze. "It was supposed to be a compliment." You didn't look so convinced, your cheeks tinted red as you continued to glare at him. "I just meant to say that you're really pretty and no one will mind that they dress isn't perfect." 

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, giving a short nod. "Well, in future, I think you ought to stick to a more simple compliment," you murmured, your voice lowering as your tongue darted out to wet your lips. "It may save you a lot of trouble." 

He nodded, offering you a weak smile. "Can I start with you?" Your brows knitted together in confusion as you glanced up at him again. "I think you look beautiful, no matter what you wear." 

A smile pulled at your lips at his comment, and you reached out to take his hand in yours. "That's a lot better. You're going to sweep some lucky girl off her feet tonight." 

"No, I-" Robb paused for a moment as you watched him carefully, waiting for him to finish his sentence. "I don't think I'd want a southern girl. Too delicate for me." 

You nodded slightly, a half smile still draped across your lips. "It's all a little intimidating, isn't it?" you murmured, your mind drifting. "All these people vying for attention, all hoping they'll be the lucky one that gains favour. Knowing that someday we'll be doing the same thing to find a space in society for our children-"

"Our children?" 

You chuckled slightly. "Well, my children and your children. Obviously." 

"Why obviously?" 

"Because you're going to end up married to some very wealthy Lord's pretty daughter and giving her children. And I'll end up with some Iron Islander who I can hardly tolerate and having his children, however unwilling I may be to do so." 

Robb looked a little pained at your comment. "That hardly seems fair," he uttered, and you gave a small shrug.

"Life is only ever fair for rich men, Robb. Luckily for you, you'll never know any different." 

"And what if I say I don't want to marry some rich Lord's daughter?" he started again, defiance painted on his features as he looked down at you, his eyes focused on the way you thought for a moment. 

"Why wouldn't you want to?" you asked him softly, pausing for just a moment. "You're life would be perfect."

He shook his head. "No, my life would be boring. But with you I'd be happy-"

"With me?"

Robb blinked blankly, dragging his eyes away from you. "With someone like you. You know what I mean." 

"I'm not so sure I do," you uttered, biting down on your bottom lip as shifted to face him properly. "Unless, what you mean is that you want to marry me." 

His eyes found you again then, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find a good enough answer for you. "I think that's exactly what I mean."

"Robb, that's sweet, but-"

"Please don't finish that sentence," he murmured, taking your hand in his and linking your fingers. "'Robb, that's sweet' is all I need to hear," he added, causing a small chuckle to fall effortlessly from your lips. 

You glanced around you, checking nobody was looking in your direction. "You know, if it was that easy, I would say yes." 

"It is that easy."

You lifted a hand, touching his cheek in a fleeting motion; a barely-there contact that disappeared as soon as it had begun. "No it isn't, My Sweet." He dipped his head, his eyes finding his feet as you took a deep breath. "You are going to be the head of your house, and you will need a wife with a lot of influence in the world. I'm an Iron Islander. And I'm not even my father's first daughter." 

"That doesn't matter to me."

You paused for a moment, the honesty in his comment leaving you a little breathless. "It should." 

"No, what should matter is that I love you," he murmured, leaning a little closer to you, his lips brushing yours before you pulled back, slipping away from his contact. 

"Robb-"

"Please. Even if it's just this once." 

He leaned in once more, only stopping when your hand came to rest over his mouth, stopping him on the spot. "Your mother will see us." You shifted away then, keeping his hand in yours. "We need to talk about this properly. Somewhere private. When Winterfell isn't filled with people who will go spreading rumours if they see us together."

"I love you." 

A small smile came to your lips. "Another time," you murmured, placing a small kiss to his knuckles before releasing him completely and moving away from him and into the crowd.

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