Okay, for this to work, You are somewhat a romantic replacement for Robb's wife. She doesn't exists in accordance with this, and his refusal to marry Walder Frey's daughter was out of the fact he thought it wasn't a good enough proposal for him- to give away his life to a random woman, and elevate the Frey's social status when he'd just get to pass through some land.
To think that you had gone from needing to murder him, to wanting to save his life. Everything was slow, as you mounted a horse beside him, his "Advisor sent from Sansa and some Little Birds", was the story- a story that you knew you'd have to break, if you were to save him from his fate.
"Stop! You can't arrange this wedding!" You protested, and by then, it was too late for you to go back on your words... the truth had to come out.
1 month prior
Gale force winds scraped against your skin, the glass-like shards of snow- no, ice- trying their utmost hardest to peel away your sinner's skin. You hated the weather up north- if it wasn't raining, it was snowing, and neither were good for long journeys from King's Landing.
It had taken you a week just to pinpoint the location of Robb Stark's encampment as of current; you refused the assistance of other Lannister scouts, because that would most certainly blow your cover, and put suspicion on the only legitimate evidence you had to help your case- a letter intercepted from Sansa, by the very little bird whom she gave it to. A letter with vague directions of a place up north, where Robb was leading his men from. She was to send him assistance- an advisor on the inside- who despite being in King's Landing for years as a noble, grew up north.
He was dead now.
You were sent in his place, the loyal Lannister niece/nephew you were, to find out more about Robb, and guide him into bad decisions, that would assist the your family in crushing him as a threat to their reign. And here you were, slowing your horse beyond the thicket of trees, ready to tarnish the short-lived reign of this 'King of the North'.
That had been your plan, until you had spent a few hours with him. He was a charming man, with a glint in his smile; his eyes twinkled with hope and his chest puffed out with the pride of living up to his name. He had an energy about him- of hope, and happiness- and you understood then why so many people chose to follow him; you were drawn in.
You were told to try and kill him the first night you arrived. If you didn't have the opportunity, they simply said to leave when given opportunity- and two weeks later they would say to leave after the red wedding, and give all that you had learnt about the stark family, even those not present.
You tried. You remembered distinctly having crept across from your own personal tent, set up out of civility of your merry conversations; trust that you were Sansa's little gift, a stringy connection all the way from King's Landing- you remembered standing above the sleeping wolf, your dagger glinting against the withering candle-light. You had seen his pale, sleeping face; his resting face so innocent and kind as always-
You had put away the dagger, sat by him for a few lone minutes, then retired to your tent once more.
You had felt like a fool. Weak. How could you not do such a simple thing?
And yet, it only took a week for you to deny to yourself the fact you had even tried to kill him in the first place- he won you over each time with his charm. One week, and you had connected with him, though you told yourself it was just so you could understand him more, for your job- for your reason.
Yet that trust became races through the woods on horseback on free days, snide jokes passed across an early morning breakfast table of bread; Three weeks in, and you were lying with your head against his chest, your eyes flirting between the stars in the sky and the stars in his eyes- it wasn't love, maybe no more than a good bond between friends to him- but for you, it felt exhilarating to have such an affectionate tie with someone for once, in a world where family came first- a world you were far from accustomed to.
You would almost forget you were a Lannister- until the notice came, about the Frey's "proposal".
Robb turned on his heels to face you, his expression so naïve and relaxed, as per norm. He chuckled- but it was a nervous chuckle, "What, is my advisor afraid of talk involving love?" His jest seemed almost flirty, and though normally you'd be giddy with charm, now was not the time,
"No- no. But look what happened before, you told me you upset Walker Frey. How do you know that he won't be trying to betray you now?" You irked; you hoped maybe you could carry on with your façade of knowing nothing, that you wouldn't have to tell him the truth. You were alone, at least- so if anyone were to kill you it would be him.
He approached you, and took your gaze into his calming stormy irises. You couldn't help but settle, just a bit. His hands fell upon your arms, and he leaned his head forward, "The Frey's are our bannermen. Walder Frey may have been angry, but if he's willing to listen to what we have to say, and propose someone else marry one of his daughters, then I trust him. We'd know if he had anything planned."
It wouldn't work. You trembled, and his gaze grew concerned- you would have to tell him. On the verge of breaking, you managed to tremor out, "You wouldn't. You don't. But you should." The tears came, and, though confused, Robb pulled you into his chest, tight, and held you. His head fitted into the crook of your neck, and the sound of him shushing you was loud and audible; it flowed right through you. Eventually, you felt able to speak,
"Robb... just let me do one thing before I say what I have to next." He said nothing, but his face was permitting. You pulled him back in, but this time, let your faces meet. He didn't pull back, and you shared a kiss that felt enough to last you a life-time- and you reckoned that it would.
You pulled away when your chest began to throb with anxiety and guilt, and before the tears came back, you whispered, "I'm not the one that Sansa sent. Im... I'm an advisor to the Lannister's. They sent me to kill you- but you showed me what compassion and loyalty are. And my loyalties changed.
The Freys are going to kill you, Robb. I don't care what you think of me now- don't let that happen."
He froze; his eyes went cold. Pulling back, it was evident that he was holding back all kinds of disgust and betrayal. His breath was shaky- he turned, and began to walk away.
You let him get ahead of you, and slowly followed in shame- you knew what was coming. You couldn't face him, but at least you'd had your moment; at least you'd done the right thing, even if it cost you your life.
Entering camp, Robb called for an announcement, and jumped up on his horse to get a sight on everyone. He cleared his throat, and stared off into the distance as the people gathered round, "Our advisor... has received a Raven. From King's Landing. A scout there reported meetings between the Lannister's and Frey representatives; we will be arranging no wedding, as it will cost us our lives. This betrayal makes things difficult..." he can't help but dwindle for a moment on you, "but we'll find a way to work things out over time. We'll find a way forward."
You feel shame, heat, relief- a whole ensemble of things wash over you. You know that he isn't just talking about the physical journey to King's Landing from here.
It will take time, but you have a spark of hope in you, that the Young Wolf, the King of the North, cared enough to make things the way they had been for the 'warmest' month of your existence.
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GOT ➨ Game of Thrones One ShotsFanfiction
*COVER HAS BEEN EDITED* No smut, but I'll go as far as a few minutely cheeky words. Basically Reader insert 1 shots with characters, either Requested by you lovelies, or just some idea I came up with in my head. I'll try dedicating my requests where...