“What is this?” Your tone was full of amusement and merriment, eyes scanning the letter so deftly tucked beneath a stack of books.
Jamie froze, half-torn between lying and tearing the letter away from you. In the end, he did nothing, staring blankly at the red insignia of a lion imprinted on the wax.
Your expression sobered quickly as you read the signature near the bottom of the letter. You fixed him with an accusatory glare, clenching the thin paper in your right hand as you addressed him. “Cersei.”
He approached you cautiously, holding his hands out as a sign of surrender, reaching for the letter contained in your hands.
You quickly pulled it out of his grasp. “You said you cut off all communication with her. You lied to me.”
“I did!” He defended. “I told her to leave us be, but she’s my sister, she’s family. I can’t just disappear without a word!”
“Is she more? Is she more than family to you?” You demanded. You’d never heeded the rumors, believing him when he told you that she was his past and you were his future. But some part of you had always wondered if the whispers about your husband were true. The conflicted expression he wore seemed to disturbingly push you towards the truth.
“Y/N…” he warned lowly, drawing closer and again reaching for the letter, this time a bit more insistently. “Give it here.”
“No,” you asserted, again moving out of his grasp, “answer the question!”
Jamie’s expression was cold, defensive, and so unlike how you’d ever seen him. “I told you to ignore those rumors.”
“Is that all they are? Rumors?” Your upper lip trembled, but you kept your expression as neutral as you could manage.
His silence betrayed him.
Your firm exterior crumbled. You took a step back, and then two, and then three. You clasped a hand over your mouth, breathing stuttering and trembling. Your back collided with the wall, and you let the letter finally tumble from your grasp. Your eyes watered, and your chest squeezed painfully. “I feel sick.” You sunk lower, back pressed to the wall, hitting the floor and pulling your knees up to your chest.
Jamie finally snapped into action, sliding down onto his knees and drawing close to you, desperation clear in his body language. He reached to cup your cheek, dismayed when you pulled away. “Hey. Hey. It doesn’t mean anything, I’m still here, I married you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you!” He spluttered promises like a drunk spluttered lies.
You pushed him away, grasping for the traitorous letter and thrusting it at him. “You don’t understand Jamie. This,” you gestured between the two of you. “This won’t work, this can’t work anymore.” You held up your hands to keep him at bay. “This was all built on a lie! You were never running with me, you were always running from her!” You scrambled to your feet, tears spilling onto your cheeks. “I never want to see you again!”You snarled at him, hiding your hurt in anguish.
Jamie watched as you disappeared from your home, and disappear from his life. All he could do was stare.
You’d been bickering with Robb since the day you met him. Always small trivial things, blown way out of proportion. A side-mouthed comment, something callous and crass usually did the trick of setting you off.
Initially, it had just been children being children, arguing for the sake of argument. But when you two grew out of adolescence, childhood anger faded away and repressed attraction began to rule Robb’s life. Suddenly, you weren’t the sweet girl with round cheeks who he liked to tease. Now you were beautiful, and other boys began to take notice. Theon flirted with you relentlessly, as did a few other boys from Wintertown. Suddenly, Robb didn’t have you to himself anymore, and it annoyed him to no end. So, he did the logical thing.
He became even more of a prat in an attempt to once again capture your attention.
Alternatively, you’d been rather busy politely refusing the advances of a few very brazen boys who’d begun a quest for your attention, all while the boy who’s attention you actually craved ignored you completely. When he did speak to you, he was cruel and teasing, and more than once you’d been brought to tears. The things he said didn’t affect you as much as the anger in his expression, the coolness of his tone. You’d fooled yourself into believing Robb harbored no feelings for you.
Robb grip on your wrist was almost bruising, dragging you away from some poor son of blacksmith who’d finally worked up the courage to flirt with you.
Your ears rung as you poured over the things he’d said. No sooner had the boy tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear than Robb had stormed over and laid into the boy with a series of angry exclamations before finally turning his back and taking you with him.
Anger reared within you. How dare he treat you so cruelly and punish those who treated you with kindness? Grinding to a halt, you pulled back on his hand, planting your feet and forcing him to a stop. “You need to apologize.”
Robb scoffed, hiding the hurt that lurked beneath the anger in his eyes. Jealousy had overtaken him, seeing you with another man had sent him into action, which he now regretted, knowing it would only lead into another round of questions from you. “I don’t need to do anything.”
“Robb Stark, I have never seen you act like this. Are you a child? If you have some issue with me, I’d be glad to sort it out, but you are not allowed to berate those I keep in my company-”
He chuckled sparsely. “Why do you think you’re entitled enough to tell me what to do?” He couldn’t stop himself. There was something about the way yours eyes flashed when he angered you, something addictive.
“Why?” You parroted, staring back at him in a stunned awe. “I’ve known you since we were children Robb. I was there when you lifted your first sword, when you won your first fight, when you kissed your first maiden.” You sounded off, expression rippling as you worked yourself up. “Why do I get to tell you what to do? Because I love you, you bastard!” Your fists clenched by your sides, you finally caught sight of Robb’s expression.
He was shell-shocked, completely silent and staring with a slack jaw.
Your nerve began to give way and regret flooded your veins. You began to backtrack. “Robb, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
He surged forward, smashing his lips to yours and holding you firmly in his arms, one hand on each of your biceps. The kiss was raw and fiery, the result of too many years of holding back. When he finally pulled back, he laughed. “I should listen to you more often.”
andtheytoldustotellyouhello 