A/N - This is not a Robb Stark imagine but the reader is in a relationship with him throughout the chapter. I hope you all enjoy it.
"Are you alright?" It was, perhaps, the most stupid question you had ever heard someone mutter in your life. You kept your eyes on your hands, folded in your lap, and ignored her words. "Please, (Y/N). I'm your Mother, you have to speak to me."
"Fine," you huffed, raising your head to look at her, your jaw tight and your eyes boring into her skin as though you hoped that you could burn her if you stared hard enough. "I am far from alright. I just watched my Father by Law murdered by your son," you growled at her before finally pulling your eyes away.
"Joffrey wasn't supposed to do that," she started and you scoffed at her words. "He's your brother, bound by blood, not by silly words under some hulking big tree in the snow."
"He's not my brother," you hissed at her, getting to your feet and crossing the room to shove her as hard as you could, causing her to stumble. "You thought I'd never notice how different I am to them but I'm not blind. Ned was right about you, about what they are. You disgust me," your rant was silenced by your mother's palm connecting with your face. You both remained silent as you raised your hand to your cheek, letting your cool palm rest against the red skin as you stared at her. "Get out," you muttered, tears brimming in your eyes as you shook your head at her. When she attempted to take a step in your direction you flinched away. "Just leave," you hissed, your voice lower now as you watched her turn and exit your bedchambers.
There were few Stark allies left in King's Landing by the time Ned had been put to death, but you had always been there. You had been wed to Robb when your family had traveled to Winterfell but you had demanded to return to the Capital to finish your studies with the Grand Maester. Since your new husband's family had come with you, you had grown close to his father and spent much of your free time with the Starks.
You stalked over to your vanity, sitting in front of the mirror and running your fingers lightly over the mark on your cheek. It would bruise, you were sure of it, and everyone would see just how cruel your mother could be. She loved you, that much was true, but she preferred the others. Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella had always been the ones she doted on, where you had been left to care for yourself much more often. You had been surprised when she had ordered you to remain in the Capital after your father's death, even though your studies had finished. It wasn't until Lord Stark had been arrested that you realised that you were now a prisoner at your mother's hand. She would not harm you but you couldn't leave King's Landing, you couldn't return to your family.
*Time Skip*
"Sandor, I require your help," you called into the hall. He always wandered the halls of the Red Keep at this time of night, you had been watching for a long time and had begun planning a way to get him alone. "Quickly, if you don't mind," you added and you saw the door open slightly to reveal his giant form.
"How can I help ya', My Lady?" He came in, leaving the door open and watching as you hurried past him to check that the coast was clear. As you returned you pressed the door shut as quietly as you could, allowing the lock to click into place before turning back to him.
"I need to leave King's Landing," you uttered, gesturing for him to sit in one of the plush seats as you crossed the room to sit opposite him at the table.
"Your mother won't let you leave," he answered simply, relaxing a little as you poured him some ale. Sandor had been your guard since you were a child and you had grown to enjoy his company, often bothering him with all of your questions and queries, your imagination had always been a burden he had endured with you.
"Which is why I'll need your help. She'll also not want Sansa to leave, but she'll be coming with us nonetheless," you spoke softly, and gave him the smile that you had always used to get your own way, though the twinkle in your eye was much more new.
"What are ya' doin' (Y/N)? Ya' gonna' get ya'self killed," he muttered, the rumble in his voice almost soothing as you tilted your head at him.
"And you honestly think that I'm any safer here? The King is a psychopath and I'm the wife of a man in open rebellion against the crown. You've seen how little control my mother has over him now, she can't help me." You pressed your fingers into your temple as you spoke and then let out a deep sigh. "And Sansa needs me; he'll kill her before she can be wed to anyone who would actually protect her," you paused for a moment, looking up at the large man through your lashes. "Please Sandor. This is the only choice I have."
"Fine," he grunted before getting to his feet. "But we go now, or we don't go at all," he added before moving towards the door.
"Where are you going?" You cried out, moving to follow him.
"To get your Sister by Law from her chambers, or else it will be sunup by the time we get out of the city," he told you, gesturing at your bedroom. "Try to pack lightly."
You smiled as he made his way out into the hall, looking both ways before disappearing towards where Sansa's chambers were, only a few rooms away from your own. You pressed the door shut behind him, clicking the latch into place before hurrying around your room for anything small enough to use as a bag. You wouldn't need much, a few dresses, some underthings, perhaps the old wooden stag that your uncle Stannis had given to you on the day you were born. You turned it over in your hands for a moment, looking at the engraving on the bottom, '(Y/N) Baratheon, first of her name'. It seemed almost unusual to know that the man you knew as an uncle had ever been as soft as to give you something so sweet and caring. In fact, he was the furthest thing from sweet with your siblings, but he had always been kind to you, allowing you to sit on his lap and play with the wisps of his beard. If it had been Joffrey toddling over to beg for his attention he would have been sent away, as would Tommen or Myrcella, but you were different. Perhaps he had known your mother's secret deep down all along, you were the only true Baratheon child of the King, and your uncle had seen it almost immediately though he refused to admit it out loud. Perhaps when you had reunited with Robb you would visit with Stannis. You could bring the two armies together, Robb didn't want the Iron Throne, he had told you as much in his letters, and Stannis cared little about the North and those who ruled it.
You were drawn from your thoughts of family by a knock on the door and you quickly shoved the stag into your bag before darting across the room and glancing through the view slot. Sandor stood there, Sansa close at his side with a small bag on her shoulder. It seemed she had been ready for your escape plan, though neither of you had mentioned it before. "Hurry up, or we'll get caught out here," Sandor growled under his breath and you quickly unlatched the door allowing them to pass you. "We've gotta get moving soon," he told you, pushing Sansa lightly towards you before going over to slump in one of your chairs.
"What's going on?" Sansa asked, her eyebrows knitted together as she watched you smile at her.
"We're leaving King's Landing, We're going back to Robb and your mother." You hand came to cup her face for a moment and she let out a small chuckle as tears escaped her eyes; you pulled her into a tight hug. "Come on, we should go," you uttered to Sandor as you pulled away from Sansa, grabbing your bag and swinging it onto your shoulder.
Sneaking through the halls of the Red Keep was much less difficult than you had thought it would be. Sandor knew the routes the guards took and which rooms to avoid, and you and Sansa had both been raised to be ladies, quiet and dainty and graceful, able to move without making a sound.
Once you made it out of the Red Keep the real problem was getting through the gates, though Sandor already had a plan. He stopped you both just before you rounded the corner and pulled your shawls over your heads, he stood back for a moment to admire his work but paused before coming towards your both again. He knelt down in front of you, ripping the hem of your dress and causing you to jump a little.
"What are you doing?" you exclaimed as quietly as you could. He looked up at you before digging his hands into the dirt of the floor and then rubbing it all over your skirts. "Sandor," you began to scold him again when he moved away and repeated his movements on Sansa's gown. She seemed far too tired to react to his actions and instead just pulled the shawl closer to her head.
When he got back to his feet he smiled at you, one of his rare, cocky smiles. "Trust me." He moved between you, gripping the backs of your dresses and nudging you both forwards, around the corner and towards the guards at the gate. You tensed for a moment, pulling your shawl closer around your head and looking down at the floor.
"Halt," the guard yelled, taking a few steps in your direction before stopping, "Oh, it's you, Clegane. What d'ya want?"
"Found two beggars sittin' on the steps a' the Red Keep, Shit job you two a'been doin'," he growled, continuing to walk towards the men, his grip on the two of you still tight.
"They need to be punished, then," the guard started but Sandor cut him off with a snort.
"Could say the same about you, lettin' 'em through. Someone could'a been hurt," he told them. By the time he had finished talking you had made it past the gate. "I'm takin' 'em down ta' Baelish's place, seems like punishment enough." The guard nodded and watched sheepishly as you made your way down the road. "Keep those things on ya' head until we get out of the city," Sandor growled low in your ears, his grip loosening slightly as he spoke.
*Time Skip*
You seemed to avoid trouble for a long while after leaving King's Landing, sticking to back roads and avoiding staying in any place for too long. You could see that Sansa was struggling, she was tired and hungry, but there was nothing you could do to help her for now. When you reached Robb it would all be okay, he would help you.
You were already two weeks into your travels when you came across a Lannister Guard who was hunting you. "What are you doing out here, M'Lady?" he asked, his hand reaching for you, but you moved away from him, pulling Sansa closer to you and hoping that Sandor would come back soon.
"My Sister by Law and I are visiting with my Husband," you uttered as steadily as you could manage as you continued to back away from him. You could feel the small knife, Sandor had given you, nestled against your ankle, though there was no way for you to get to it.
"You're going to want to step away from the Ladies," you heard a little voice interrupt the tense silence of the clearing and out of the corner of your eye you could see a little girl with a sword clutched in her hands and two boys, each trying to look tough but failing behind her.
"Arya," it was barely a whisper that passed Sansa's lips but it was clear enough for you to hear her.
"And you're going to make me, are you?" the man grunted at her before letting out a snort of laughter. "Go home, girl," he added and the girl's entire body tensed before she unleashed like a coil, attempting to launch herself at the man, only for the taller of the two boys to grab her and hold her back, making the man laugh again. In the moment of chaos you managed to look at the girl, she looked different but there was no missing that it was Arya.
"What's goin' on 'ere?" Sandor's voice seemed to silence everything and the guard shrunk away from you all, his laugh coming to a quick stop.
"Clegane, you're with these people?" He asked, his brows knitted together as he watched the larger man stalk towards him.
"That's right," Sandor started, coming to a stop now that he had placed himself in front of you and Sansa. "I'm escorting them, keeping them safe."
"But the Queen," the man began and you snorted before cutting him off.
"My mother is no longer the Queen," you bit out, moving so that you could look around Sandor's arm. "I would suggest you go home and tell her that I won't be returning anytime soon," you continued and the man nodded, his eyes lingering on the sword at Sandor's hip for a moment before he turned and mounted his horse, heading back the way he had come from.
"Arya what are you doing here?" Sansa was the first to break the silence, running over to where her sister stood between the two boys and drawing her into a rather surprising hug. The two lingered in their hold for a moment before separating and taking a few steps apart.
As Arya begin to explain, you turned to Sandor. "How far are we from Robb?" you asked and the larger man shrugged.
"A day or two more, shouldn't be long now."
"We have to keep moving, he'll bring back more soldiers," you murmured, trying to remain quiet as to not worry the Stark girls.
"It'll be fine," Sandor started and you shook your head for a moment.
"You can't protect us all, Sandor. We need to keep moving or we'll all die out here." Your words seemed to shock the man but he nodded.
"Fine," he grunted, moving away to pick up the bag you had dropped to the floor just a few moments before.
"Arya, you and your friends must come with us." The smallest Stark girl turned to you, her face scrunched up in disgust.
"I won't go anywhere with him," she started, gesturing in Sandor's direction. "He murdered Mycah."
"Yes, he did, under the future King's orders. He had no choice in that," you told her softly, moving closer to her. "Joffrey is cruel and doesn't like being bested and he used Sandor to make himself feel better about that," you paused for a moment. "Please don't blame him for that, we need him."
Arya crossed her arms, scowling in Sandor's direction as you stopped speaking. "Fine, but I still hate him," she growled, her teeth gritted as she kept her gaze focused on the large man.
*Time Skip*
You had traveled through the night, worried that the Lannister soldiers would catch up to you if you stopped for too long in any one place, but it had taken less than a day to reach Robb's camp. You all stumbled out of the tree line and were soon surrounded by Stark bannermen and soldiers. You were the first to get down to their knees, placing your hands on the back of your head and nodding your head for the others to copy you. Eventually, you were all knelt in the mud, awaiting anyone who would address you.
"Move aside." A smile came to your face when you heard Robb's voice, and you quickly raised your head to look up at him as he made his way towards your group of misfits. "(Y/N), What are you doing here?" he asked as his eyes locked with yours. It took him no time at all to get close enough to you to pull you to your feet, and soon he was surveying the rest of the group. "Sansa, Arya," he started and the two of them looked up, small smiles coming to their faces.
You released Robb's hand where it gripped yours and pushed him towards his sisters, taking a blanket that was being held out to you by one of the bannermen you had met at your wedding. "Thank you," you muttered slightly, allowing your body to relax. It was then that you remembered what Sandor had told you after he returned from an inn with food. Your uncle Jaime was here, somewhere. "Robb, would it be possible for me to speak with the Kingslayer?" you asked across the crowd, causing his head to shoot up to look at you.
"Let me settle everyone and I'll come with you," he told you sweetly as he made his way back to you.
"I'd rather go alone if it's alright with you," you quickly answered. "I won't be long, I just need to speak with him for a moment."
"If you're sure. Lord Bolton, could you please escort (Y/N) to her uncle's cell," he continued, giving you a small smile before turning back to his sisters.
"Right this way, Your Grace." Lord Bolton spoke in a way that had always made you uncomfortable, there was little emotion in his voice, nor in his face for that matter. You often scolded yourself for being cruel to the man but something deep inside always felt unsettled around him.
You saw Jaime before he saw you, huddled in the mud and attached to the wooden pole that kept him as still as it possibly could. "You can leave us, he won't hurt me," you muttered to Lord Bolton, who nodded and made his way back towards where your husband would be waiting for you. At your voice your uncle's head popped up, locking his eyes on you as you shook your head at him.
"(Y/N)," he whispered under his breath, you eyes continuing to watch him. You were aware that you only looked slightly better than he did. He was coated head to toe in mud and you were tired and tattered.
"You look well," you told him, taking a few steps closer to his cell, though it was more like a cage for a rabid dog. He remained silent as you crouched to look him in the eye. "I know," you started and he looked on in confusion, his brow furrowing and causing the mud that had dried there to crumble and cascade down his face. "I know about you and my mother, about Joffrey and Tommen and Myrcella," you continued and his eyes closed slightly.
"Your father never deserved her," he muttered lightly and you chuckled.
"That's where you're right," you started and you stood back up to full height, just outside of the cage as you looked down at him. "My father deserved better than her, you both did" you continued and he shifted slightly on the spot.
"He was a disgusting oaf of a man," he growled and you chuckled.
"He was, but he still deserved better than a Lannister," you told him, causing him to grow even more agitated. "There will come a time when you realise how bad she is for you, and when you do there will always be a place for you among my husband's bannermen," you uttered, turning to leave him.
"You take after her you know," he grunted after you. "You can be just as ruthless when you need to be. Look at you now, so proud of how you've hurt your poor, old uncle."
"I'll never be anything like her," you spat back at him.
"Stop lying to yourself. You already are her," he pushed as you began walking again. "You'll always be a Lannister, no matter how hard you try to deny it." Once you were out of his eye line you stopped in your tracks, pulling your shawl tighter around you and sniffing away any tears that threatened to fall. You took a few deep breaths before continuing back to where your husband had last been, finding Robb waiting for you with a thick fur.
"Lord Bolton told me you would need this," he started softly, moving to wrap it around you and pulling into a light hug. "Come, let me show you to our tent," he added, pulling away to take you by the hand and usher you towards your new home.
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