Thank you so much for everyone who has followed, favorited and especially reviewed on this story. Honestly, you have no idea how much it means to receive feedback from all of you. Even just a couple of words brighten my day and inspire me to continue publishing new chapters. I've never written for Game of Thrones previously and to be honest, I've only watched up to the end of season 2 despite reading all the books so it is a little nerve wracking for me.
This chapter has some mature content and it is my very first time posting a scene like this so, well... let me know what you think, okay? I only rewrote it about a thousand times, so...
Brought to you by I Don't Own Anything and Probably Should Be Writing My Comparative Analysis Essay, here is the fifth chapter of Seven Winds:
. ... .
In the end, Robb's men had barely pawed upon her, tearing her dress in only two places and barely managing to unlace the top of her gown. Like Roslin had predicted, Robb was in much worse shape – his doublet was practically shredded, the shirt beneath it torn in several places as well. They were shoved into the room that had been prepared for them amongst giggles and, to Roslin's horror, suggestions on different positions to try.
Finally the door closed and Roslin latched it behind them with a flourish, thankful beyond all imaginings to have the piece of wood separating her and Robb from his men and her relations. As she turned to face Robb, she ran her hands nervously through her hair, casting a Silencing charm around the room as she did so. Her father would no doubt station guards outside the door and question them in the morning and she wanted them to have nothing to tell. He could have her maiden's sheet, and that was it.
To Roslin's surprise, Robb looked just as nervous as she felt. Surely this is not his first time, Roslin thought to herself as they stood in semi-awkward silence, one observing the other. While women, especially noble women, were expected to remain chaste before marriage, men were encouraged to visit brothels or sleep with servants before they married. Roslin wondered at the logic of that for only a moment before pushing it away – it would doubtless just make her angry.
"Would you like some wine?" Roslin found herself asking, her voice sounding strange and vulnerable, for whatever stupid reason. She had done this before, in the life she had once lived. She had even given birth to children there, after all. So why was her heart racing in her chest like a drum? Why was her mouth dry as bone?
Perhaps it was guilt. To be intimate with Robb before expressing her true nature to him did not feel like she was simply protecting her secrets, as she had done her entire life. It felt deceitful in a way that she had never been in either lifetime. She had been so obsessed with the idea of escaping Lord Frey that she failed to realize what it might cost her. It didn't help matters that Robb was obviously besotted with her, and seemed to be a very honorable sort of youth. Roslin had no doubt that if she gave him her maidenhead, he would not cast her out as a witch afterwards – he would protect her, as his wife. That realization made the guilt sink further into her stomach.
Whatever she chose, Roslin knew that her decision would irrevocably change the nature of her relationship with Robb. To start with the truth or to start with a lie?
Robb released a breath, relieved that the silence had been broken. He smiled, nodding, "I would love some," he said gratefully. Roslin nodded, walking to where the wine had been set upon the desk in the room. She managed to keep her arm and hands steady as she poured the two goblets. Roslin turned and found Robb much closer than before, standing in the middle of the room, eyes lingering on her form. Her stomach clenched in anticipation.
"My lord," she said, offering him one of the drinks. As soon as he took it from her, Roslin brought her own glass to her lips and took a large gulp. She did not often drink wine – alcohol did odd things to her magic – but now seemed a good time to break that particular habit. She quickly drained the entire goblet, physically shaking herself as she finished it, esophagus and stomach suddenly very warm.
Robb let out a short laugh at the sight, taking a large drink from his own drink as well, albeit a smaller than Roslin had. "Are you that nervous, Lady Roslin?" he asked, as he placed his drink on a near table, "I did not know you found me so intimidating."
Roslin placed her drink next to his own, feeling remarkably more relaxed. "You have obviously never been a maiden on her wedding night, my lord," she sighed, hiding behind her courtesies. Inside, her mind raced with indecision. She felt slightly sick. "The whole mess is intimidating, to be truthful," Roslin went on.
"The whole mess?" Robb laughed, reaching for her hand and drawing her over to a large armchair near the fire. He sat and drew her onto his lap, relaxing into the back of the chair with a comfortable air about him. "You make it sound like such fun, my lady wife. It is not all about duty, you know," he told her, his eyes traveling down to her collarbone and the smooth, unblemished skin of her arms.
Heat rose to her face and she smiled despite herself. Roslin wasn't sure how to act around Robb just now – she did not want him to think her some bumbling, awkward child, nor did she want him to think she was a wanton woman and question her maidenhood. But, honestly she couldn't even think of all that because she was a witch and could give him witch-heirs and the common folk could revolt and –
"There is something else that troubles me," the words burst free of her lips in a rush, her hands nervously going to her hair and beginning to undo the braids there. Robb watched her fingers with fascination, "I fear that I have not been completely honest with you," she admitted ruefully. She quickly rose and made to stand in front of the fire. She kept her back to Robb as she quickly removed the rest of her braids and ran her hands through the wavy mass of her hair, fidgeting with anxiety.
Robb watched as she gracefully removed herself from his lap before crossing the room to stand in front of the fire. He sat forward, reaching for his wine again. "Oh?" he asked lightly. They had only known each other for a little over a day – what could she possibly have kept from him already? He took a long drink, unsure what else to say. Robb watched as she slowly turned back to face him, her long dark hair flowing to her waist in wild waves. She was chewing, but not biting, on her left thumbnail and she looked very agitated and perhaps a little scared. Robb placed his goblet back down before he stood and approached her. "What is it, Roslin?" he asked, bewildered.
Her face rippled with emotion and he noticed that she was actually trembling. Robb hated to see such fear on his wife's face – or any woman's face, really – and instinctively sought to comfort her. "Come now, let us sit," he bridged the distance between them and took her hand gently, leading her back to the chair. After she sat he knelt at her feet, looking up to her face. "Tell me what has upset you. Did you do something?" he ventured, keeping his voice even.
Roslin sighed, shaking her head. "No, no, it's nothing like that," Roslin said quickly. She brought her full lower lip between her teeth and the sight distracted Robb for a moment. Even though he was looking directly up to her face, she would not return his gaze. Her brilliant green eyes were focused completely on the hands that rested in her lap.
Finally, after what seemed like ages, she raised her eyes to meet his own. There was a sort of determination there that he had not yet seen before in the emerald depths. "Robb, this is going to sound very strange," she warned, still looking very reluctant to speak despite finally doing so. "What do you know of –" Roslin hesitated for the most brief of moments, "– magic?" she choked out, with difficulty.
"Magic?" Robb blinked, surprised at the question. He hesitated for a moment, looking at her fair face for any signs of humor. He was tempted to make a joke of her question before he found none. Roslin looked so serious that it took him aback. "Uhhh," he stumbled, trying desperately to think back to stories Old Nan had told him in his childhood. "I know of wargs, my lady. Men who can go into the mind of animals. The Children of the Forest were said to be strong with magic…" he trailed off, trying to think, "I also know that those of Old Valyria were said to use the magic of fire and blood…" he trailed off again.
To his surprise, Roslin's eyes lit up. She reached for his hands, drawing them into her lap. "Yes, those are good examples," she complimented, nodding. "When I was little, my maester told me that in the Dawn Age, magic was everywhere in our world – the root of every tree, the blood of every creature, the song of each wind," she told him, smiling. Robb said nothing, his face impassive, and Roslin wondered if he was questioning her sanity. She decided not to think about it. "Anyway, after the Doom in Valyria, magic began receding in the world, even more so after the last of the Targaryen dragons died. The Maesters say that it is gone in the West completely," she sighed, but her spine was straight and chin set, "I know for a fact that this is not true. Magic is still there, Robb – for those who know how to grasp it."
"That is...interesting, my lady," Robb said after a moment, his voice full of confusion. He looked awkward and uncomfortable, unsure at what Roslin was going on about. "But I am not sure what any of this has to do with us or you, for that matter…"
Roslin noticed this and groaned, "Oh, gods, I'm rambling. It is just...I have never told anyone this before. I just…" she trailed off. "I'm just going to say it. Going to just say it out loud," she repeated like a mantra, taking a deep breath. "I'm a witch," she blurted, eyes shooting to his face instantly.
That was it. Roslin had taken the plunge, finally said the words out loud. She looked upon her lord husband's face, taking in his reaction. His mouth fell open slightly and his eyebrows shot up towards his hairline before he caught himself, closing his mouth and moving to stand. Roslin's chest tightened, "A witch?" he repeated, and he rubbed his forehead, as if an ache had formed there. "Like a...woods witch?" he asked. There had been a woods witch outside of Winter Town, Robb recalled – she mostly sold tonics and poultices for those who could not afford traditional treatment given by a maester.
Roslin shook her head, "Sort of, but not quite like a woods witch," she told him, reaching for his hands again. She was glad when he did not pull away from her touch. "Do you believe me?" she asked, feeling quite small.
Robb looked at her face for a long moment before he answered. "I do not see why you would lie about such a thing, my lady," he granted. "I am afraid I'm still not quite sure what you're trying to tell me," he sighed, pulling away from Roslin and reaching for his wine. He drank like a man dying of thirst, and Roslin inwardly laughed at the image. He seemed to be taking this well – perhaps this wouldn't be a complete disaster after all. He pulled the goblet away from his mouth, having drained it completely, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.
"Do you need more wine, my lord?" Roslin asked, her heart pounding in her chest. He lifted his face to reply but before he could, the pitcher of wine on the far end of the room behind her lifted from the desk. After reaching arm level it floated steadily to Roslin's awaiting hand, and she clenched her fingers around the handle. Robb watched the entire process with wide eyes, though this time his well-defined jaws stayed hinged, dignified. He hesitated for a moment before simply holding his goblet out for Roslin to fill.
Roslin smiled gratefully, and for some odd reason her eyes began to water. Blinking hard, Roslin took it and filled it once more. She refilled her own before walking to place the wine back upon the desk. When she turned, Robb was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall in what appeared to be – shock? Wonder? Roslin wasn't sure.
Placing their wine on the stand, Roslin joined Robb on the edge of bed. "Please tell me what you are thinking," she blurted, after he continued to be silent. "Do you find me positively deceitful? I should have told you before the wedding ceremony, I know, but everything happened so quickly and I did not know how to – "
"I do not find you deceitful, Lady Roslin," Robb interrupted her fast-paced word spew. He was looking at her now, and Roslin had the sense that he was seeing her clearly and true for the very first time. Perhaps the first time that anyone had, in this life. "When my brother Jon and I were very young, we used to play magic in the Godswood at Winterfell," he admitted with a small smile that quickly faded. "But Maester Luwin has a chain of Valyrian steel – he has always said that magic lived only in the legends of ages past. I never thought – "he cut off, grabbing his wine again.
"It is a little unsettling," Roslin agreed quietly, after a moment. "None of my other siblings have shown any signs of it. Not even my full siblings," she told him, "Just me. I'm not sure why." His reaction was encouraging but she didn't want to push it and say anything about her past life – how much crazy could one man take in a day, after all?
"What else can you do?" Robb asked curiously, taking another drink from his chalice. "I've heard that woods witches can brew love potions. Is that true?" he asked, just a hint of a smirk on his lips.
Roslin rolled her eyes, trying to resist the urge to smile and almost succeeding. "No, no love potions," she told him, though it wasn't quite the truth. She was certain she could, with the right ingredients, but she never would. Nasty things, love potions. "Love isn't something one can brew, after all," she told him, smoothing out her skirts. "I can make potions to heal most general ailments. Oh!" her eyes brightened. "I can make a potion that can make a person spontaneously burst into feathers," she told him proudly, thinking of the potion she had designed especially for Black Walder, which she planned to dose him with at the soonest opportunity.
Robb hesitated a moment, presumably trying to decide if she were joking before bursting into laughter. Roslin grinned into her wine, the last of her unease fading away. She breathed a sigh of relief – Robb accepted her, even knowing the truth. She would tell him more of her powers later; it was their wedding night, after all.
"Do you still...desire me, my lord?" Roslin found herself asking, biting her bottom lip. "I know this was very…unexpected…" she trailed off.
Robb said nothing for a moment, grabbing her drink from her and placing it and his own on the table near them. Then he looked back to her and Roslin wondered if she had ever seen such an open and honest face. "I don't think I've ever desired anyone more, my lady," he told her with a charming smile and Roslin blushed at how ridiculous he sounded. Ridiculous and...sweet, she thought warmly. "What, you do not believe me?" be asked playfully once he noticed her dubious expression. "How about I prove it to you, lady wife?" he suggested, his eyes falling to her lips.
Roslin kept her face impassive other than a slight quirk of her lips and a single eyebrow that rose in challenge. "Why don't you?" she quipped in the same playful tone. She needed to say nothing else before Robb pulled her to her feet, spinning her around so her back was to him.
Roslin felt Robb's fingertips graze over her shoulder blades, moving her hair to the side and no doubt wondering how he was supposed to get her out of her dress with all the complicated knots and ties. An idea struck her and she released a small tendril of her magic. Right before his eyes the ribbon and ties down her back moved of apparently their own accord, faster than would be possible even if servants had been doing it. Roslin looked over her shoulder at him mischievously, raising an eyebrow.
Robb looked surprised, but only for a moment before he grinned fiendishly. "That could very much come in handy on the road, lady wife," he said cheerfully before he lowered his mouth to kiss the skin at the curve of her neck. Roslin trembled lightly as Robb's hands gently ran down the sides of her body, drawing her gown down until it fell to a puddle at her feet. The most expensive puddle Roslin had ever stood in, surely.
Feeling exposed in just her thin shift while Robb remained fully clothed, Roslin turned around and ran her hands over the silver direwolves that served as clasps to hold together his torn doublet. They came undone as her hand passed over them, as did the buttons of his soft linen undershirt. Robb gave no resistance as she pushed the fabrics down, allowing them to fall off of his frame.
Roslin sucked in a breath of air at the sight of her husband's bare skin. Hours of training with his weapon's master must have paid off, as his arms were muscled and strong, his chest and stomach lean and defined. Her eyes fell to below his belly button, where there was a trail of dark, downy-looking hair that led down and disappeared below the top of his trousers.
Robb let out a small, quiet laugh and Roslin's eyes snapped upward, her face flushing from being caught staring at him once again. He did not seem to mind though, Roslin thought as she looked upon his face. His eyes seemed different, somehow – darker, as if grey had somehow steeped into the crystal clear waters. It was no matter; they were still some of the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen.
Made bold by the desire she saw in his dark depths, Roslin reached behind and pulled the string that kept the top of her shift secure. It slipped down her shoulders and Roslin caught it with her other arm before it slipped down completely. She looked back to Robb, who was watching her with a heated sort of attention before she dropped her arm. The thin fabric fell past her waist and Roslin tucked her thumbs into the sides of it, drawing it down her legs before she stepped free of it.
As she stood there, naked as the day she was born, Roslin found herself wondering what this was going to be like. She did not remember how it had been in her first life, and in this life there was no one who had explained anything other than her duty to please her husband and give him heirs. Beyond that, it was Roslin's imagination and her basic understanding of human anatomy that had filled in the blanks.
Her nervous thoughts stilled as Robb bridged the distance between them, his calloused hands falling on either side of her waist. "You're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, my lady," Robb told her. Roslin raised an eyebrow in disbelief but she could tell from his tone that he spoke true. He kissed her then, much harsher than he had in her gardens or after their wedding ceremony in the godswood. Roslin didn't mind – her lips tingled as they moved against his and her stomach felt as though she was falling from a distance. Before Roslin could even register the movement she felt the back of her knees hit against the bed. With a gentle push from Robb she was falling backwards, landing on the soft feather down.
He remained standing and Roslin shifted on the bed, awkward in her naked state. She went to shield herself with an arm when Robb made a noise of protest. "You need not cover yourself, lady wife," he told her, a wicked grin on his face. His features were different, somehow – perhaps it was the light of the fire, Roslin did not know – his cheekbones seemed sharper and his expression reminded her of nothing so much as a wolf. His eyes bore up and down her frame for a moment before he crawled forward to join her on the bed. She shivered in anticipation as she felt his skin slide over her own and gooseflesh rose on her skin as she felt something hard brush against her leg.
All thoughts and concerns left her as Robb began kissing her again, his tongue slipping past her lips. Roslin moaned softly at the intrusion as she returned it readily, heat running through her veins.
Robb pulled away from her after a moment but did not give her time to feel bereft at the loss for suddenly his mouth was everywhere – his teeth pulling gently at her earlobe, his tongue trailing hot and wet down her throat, his lips kissing and suckling at her nipples. It was almost too much, her senses afire in ways that she had never felt before. She kept her magic in check sharply, having no idea what would happen if it were to be freed while she was in such a state.
Roslin felt Robb's lips on the inside of her thigh and her heartbeat kicked up a notch in her chest. "Robb, what –" Roslin managed to speak, voice rough before Robb interrupted her.
"Have you ever known a man before me?" he asked curiously, his voice light and cheerful as if commenting on the weather. Roslin let out an indignant sound as she propped herself up on her elbows. "Of course not!" she replied hotly, a small tendril of magic escaping her grasp and making the air around them crackle with energy, "How could –"
Roslin's words stopped as she watched Robb's head lower, his pink tongue escaping from his mouth and finding purchase in the slickness between her legs. She let out a quiet gasp at the sensation, her eyes going wide and never leaving those of her husband's. Roslin felt him flick his tongue against her flesh and when he groaned, Roslin felt the vibration even as she watched his gray-blue eyes close contently.
Roslin gripped the quilts beneath her tightly with both hands, unable to keep the sounds of her surprise and pleasure from escaping her in soft moans. She was suddenly very glad for the silencing charm she had had the foresight to cast. Roslin had never imagined anyone's mouth where Robb's was now – had it even happened before? she wondered – and was wholly unprepared for the onslaught of sensation. Her legs trembled, as if they wanted to move but Robb held them in a vice grip, unyielding to her squirming as he moved his tongue through her folds almost lazily. Every now and again the tip of his tongue would flick hard against the bundle of nerves at the top of them and Roslin could swear that it made stars burst behind her eyelids.
A sort of exquisite pressure had started to build in her lower tummy and she felt her entire body start to tighten and clench like a string being pulled too tight. Her hips bucked against his tongue of their own volition and Robb groaned, pulling her hips closer to repeat the motion again and again, a sweet rhythm that left Roslin gasping and moaning.
Slowly, something began to build inside of her and her eyes flew open, "Robb – Robb, wait, I think – " the words came out disjointed and choppy like her thoughts were. Robb paid them no heed, beginning to lick in earnest, catching the sensitive spot each time he pulled her hips against his mouth.
Roslin cried out wildly, a sound that she hadn't even known existed inside of her. Her world grew smaller and smaller until nothing existed other than Robb's tongue, creating a white-hot ball of fire that grew and grew until she could think of nothing else, completely lost in –
She came suddenly, her entire body spasming and lifting as her cry pierced the air. Her body pulsed into an entire kaleidoscope of colors, her breath leaving her in a rush. She continued to tremble even as Robb pulled his mouth away from her, his mouth and chin glistening from his attentions. He looked at her hungrily, eyes never straying from her own as he made quick work of the strings that held his pants in place.
Roslin felt soft and pliant in the wake of whatever that had been and watched Robb's movements, unconcerned. She had just a glimpse of the length that stood hard and erect between his legs before he rejoined her on the bed, crawling his way until his face was level with her own and she felt it hard and solid between her thighs.
"Are you alright?" he asked as he peered at her face, though his voice sounded almost pained. She found herself charmed at his concern.
"Yes," Roslin breathed, opening her legs wider for him. "Please, Robb…" his eyes flashed at her words and his teeth snapped together, as if fighting the urge to bite her. He took a deep breath before he spoke.
"I am told that this could be painful," he told her, as if she didn't already know that part. My lord husband is a sweet one, Roslin found herself thinking languidly as he spoke. "I will try to be gentle," he told her.
Roslin nodded, her arms reaching for his shoulders to steady her. She gasped as she felt him at her opening, groaning as his length began to slide inside of her. It was a strange sensation – a type of pressure that Roslin was unaccustomed to. He moved slowly until Roslin felt him encounter some sort of resistance inside her. "I'm sorry," Robb murmured, his lips ghosting at the sensitive skin of her throat. He hesitated a moment before he pushed forward with one strong stroke, encasing himself inside of her up to the hilt.
Roslin yelped at the pain of the intrusion, her nails digging into his shoulders. It was almost drowned out by the sound of Robb's groan of pleasure. He held still for a moment, his head falling into the curve of her shoulder, breathing heavily at the effort it took not to move.
There was a bit of pain and unfamiliar pressure but Roslin was so aroused that after a couple of moments she just wanted more. It was a burning sort of sensation but it felt almost good, like a promise of something she didn't yet know. Driven by instinct Roslin grinded her hips upwards against him, moaning as the motion caused the sensitive spot at the top of her folds to rub against his groin. The sound seemed to encourage her lord husband, who began moving slowly – very slowly – in and out of her. He groaned softly as he relaxed onto his elbows, using them to support his weight as he continued to move.
Slowly the pressure lessened and Roslin became aware of another sensation, a sort of shock that sparked every time he pushed inside of her. She began moving against him, moaning softly as she pulled her hips upward so that he would graze that spot every thrust. Roslin heard Robb growl low in his throat at her movement, so quiet that she only heard it due to his proximity to her ear. He began moving faster then, unable to hold back any longer for Roslin's sake. Not that Roslin minded. The burning sensation was gone – in its wake left a clawing need that left her panting. She wanted to feel as she had when Robb had used his mouth on her, wanted that release that made her magic surge and dance under her skin.
"Robb," Roslin panted, soft and pleading as she squirmed under his long, quick strokes. "Oh, gods," she groaned, long and low in her throat.
He seemed to know what she needed despite being unable to describe it, taking her impossibly harder and deeper, sending jolts of lightning into her belly and up her spine. Her arms wrapped around him, gripping at his back to find the purchase that allowed her to move against him, her hips matching his rhythm as if by instinct.
Robb groaned weakly and his thrusts became erratic, though somehow no less forceful. Roslin cried out again and clung to him, desperately trying to pull him closer – she needed that feeling again and she was so close.
Robb cried out loudly as he slammed inside of her once more, stilling. Roslin thought she felt a rush of warmth between her legs but did not have time to consider it before she felt Robb's teeth come down hard, biting her on the curve where her neck met her shoulder. Roslin moaned loudly – it hurt, but combined with everything else it was just pleasurable enough to push her over edge. She clenched around the softening length inside of her, eyes rolling as she clawed his back in delicious agony.
When she came back into awareness, Robb had already rolled off of her and was laying in the space next to her body, still touching. His breath came in heavy bursts and Roslin felt similar, as though her lungs could not keep up with her body's demand.
She glanced down at herself and saw that her both sides of her thighs were a sticky mess of pink and red stains, as was the sheet under her. She was slightly surprised – she had not expected quite so much blood, to be honest, but she also was annoyed that she had to leave such evidence for her lord father. Maiden's blood was a rather potent potions ingredient, although the brews it was typically used in were a little bit on the dark side – still, it would have been nice to have. Inwardly she rolled her eyes at the whole situation but her thoughts were interrupted by Robb's face appearing in her line of sight.
"Your neck – my lady, I'm so sorry – I don't know what I was–" he sounded so contrite that Roslin had to smile. She brought her fingers up to her throat and winced; the flesh there was rather tender, and she could feel the groove marks of each tooth. Still, it was nothing a quick poultice couldn't fix, she was sure.
"You were quite – animalistic, weren't you, my lord husband?" she teased, interrupting his bumbling apology with a sensual smile. As she looked at his face she noted that his eyes seemed to be back to normal – crystal clear blue, hiding an unfathomable depth. Briefly she wondered what that was about before she realized that Robb was looking at her with a new appreciation, an eyebrow raised.
"Perhaps you bring that out in me, lady wife," he said in the same tone, kissing the side of her throat that he had bit languidly.
Roslin gasped lightly at the sensation, biting her bottom lip. "The thing that you did...before," she hesitated, feeling herself blush. "How did you –? I mean, is it something –" she didn't know how to word the question she wanted to ask but her voracious desire to know out won her embarrassment.
"Is it something they teach us northron men?" Robb cut her off, smiling wickedly as he rolled half on top of her, eyes straying to her breasts. "Do our maesters teach us such things just as your septa teaches you embroidery?" he teased.
Roslin blushed deeper, swatting at his shoulder, "I will turn your hair green," she threatened, but all Robb did was grin. He continued to kiss at her throat, nuzzling her lightly. She felt him shrug a bit as he kissed the length of her jaw.
"I'd never done that before," he admitted, and Roslin felt rush of warmth in her chest at his words. "I don't really even know why I did it," he continued, and Roslin's heart started racing in her chest as she felt him hardening against her thigh once more. "I just knew I had to taste you," his voice was almost a growl, and he nipped lightly at the lobe of her ear.
She sucked in a breath, her thighs rubbing together unconsciously. "Do you hurt, my lady? Sore?" Robb asked, courteous even as his tongue traveled down her throat and chest until his mouth reached her nipple, sucking gently.
Roslin moaned, and it felt as if she awakened again, just as hungry as before. Yes, a bit, she thought, even as she felt her legs opening again, "No," she told him, her voice rough.
He took her again, before her maiden's blood had even dried on her thighs.
. … .
Dawn was fast approaching as he finally rolled off of her, his arms grabbing for her and pulling her close to his chest. They were both sweaty and physically exhausted and both knew that they only had a few hours before first light. Part of Roslin craved sleep but she felt oddly energized – plus, she definitely wanted to bathe before they headed out.
She felt Robb's hand tangle into her hair, running his fingers against her scalp as he sighed contently. They were silent for a moment, and Roslin reflected that everything seemed brighter and she had never felt more alive.
"Roslin," Robb started reluctantly, and Roslin immediately lifted her head at the tone of his voice. Just what could he have to say, sounding like that? "Traveling will be difficult. It's not for leisure," he warned her, sounding regretful. "It is a war campaign. Are you sure you would not rather remain here, comfortable and safe in the house of your father?" he asked her and Roslin's heart plummeted right into her stomach.
"No," she said at once, her tone forceful as she lifted from his chest and looking him straight in the eye. "I will not stay here, Robb," she told him. "I will not be a burden on campaign. I might not be able to wield a blade but that does not make me useless. I can help you," she said resolutely, her eyes wide. Would he really leave her behind after tonight? "You need an heir. How can we do that if I am not with you?" she asked, grabbing onto the one card she knew she had as befit her station.
"That might have already been accomplished my lady," he said, with a self-satisfied grin. Roslin fought not to blush, instead dawning a hopefully seductive look despite the fear that still held her in its grasp.
"I think not, my lord," she said with mock-seriousness. "I think we need to try more. Many, many times more," she nodded.
Robb laughed, pulling her close once again. "If you're sure," he said, with a yawn, completely relaxed. Roslin let out a sigh, relaxing as well.
She had never been more sure of anything in her life.