Lord Robb Stark (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
king_in_the_north) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2016-10-11 11:17 pm
king_in_the_north) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2016-10-11 11:17 pm
you could taste heaven perfectly; [OTA]
WHO: Robb Stark
WHERE: The field
WHEN: October 12, morning
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: n/a
STATUS: Closed to new threads
There had come a point approximately three days ago when Robb had legitimately begun to wonder whether the rain was ever going to cease. Never in all of his life had he ever even heard of such rain, from dawn to dusk and all through the night, an unending torrent that kept the skies murky gray and made the days smudge disconcertingly into one another.
When he'd woken today, something had felt off -- Just a bit to the left of where it ought to be. It had taken several drowsy minutes of laying in his bed, listening to the earnest warbles of the early birds to realize that the strangeness was that the rain had stopped. He'd almost not believed it, had felt certain he'd step outside and find the shower was simply lighter than before, but there was nothing but an early-morning mist rambling across the lawn and the first soft rays of sunlight smearing over the broken clouds.
And gods, it was practically blissful to step down onto the front walk and stay dry. It didn't even bother him that there was now so much to do, so much time to be made up as hastily as possible. The serendipitous feeling wouldn't hold, he understood that well enough, but he might as well throw himself into what needed to be done while it lasted. Winter was coming.
He'd still not grown relaxed enough to work without a shirt on, but he was down to his sleeveless undershirt today, the white long ago turned to gray and now streaked with dirt as he applied himself to working amongst the beans in the humid mud of the field. It was early yet, but he had a feeling that the small group of them out there would quickly grow once the sun was properly up.
WHERE: The field
WHEN: October 12, morning
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: n/a
STATUS: Closed to new threads
There had come a point approximately three days ago when Robb had legitimately begun to wonder whether the rain was ever going to cease. Never in all of his life had he ever even heard of such rain, from dawn to dusk and all through the night, an unending torrent that kept the skies murky gray and made the days smudge disconcertingly into one another.
When he'd woken today, something had felt off -- Just a bit to the left of where it ought to be. It had taken several drowsy minutes of laying in his bed, listening to the earnest warbles of the early birds to realize that the strangeness was that the rain had stopped. He'd almost not believed it, had felt certain he'd step outside and find the shower was simply lighter than before, but there was nothing but an early-morning mist rambling across the lawn and the first soft rays of sunlight smearing over the broken clouds.
And gods, it was practically blissful to step down onto the front walk and stay dry. It didn't even bother him that there was now so much to do, so much time to be made up as hastily as possible. The serendipitous feeling wouldn't hold, he understood that well enough, but he might as well throw himself into what needed to be done while it lasted. Winter was coming.
He'd still not grown relaxed enough to work without a shirt on, but he was down to his sleeveless undershirt today, the white long ago turned to gray and now streaked with dirt as he applied himself to working amongst the beans in the humid mud of the field. It was early yet, but he had a feeling that the small group of them out there would quickly grow once the sun was properly up.
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Before he reached the door, he swung her back down and settled her on the edge of the closest counter, leaning in and bracing his hands beside her, watching her through the riot of her hair. "Doesn't sound like much of a punishment, Your Grace. And don't forget who began this game."
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When he set her on the counter, she felt her head spinning, slightly out of breath and flushed from the excitement. She brushed her hair from her face, leaning into him. "I don't know what you are talking about. I'm the picture of innocence." She said, still giggling. "I will find an appropriate punishment for you, my lord."
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"I'm sorry," he quietly continued, a gentle seriousness edging into his expression. "If I upset you earlier. And being spectacularly stubborn even when I really don't want to be."
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Her face warmed as tenderness overtook lust. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You were right." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "I admit that your stubbornness can be a bit frustrating, but I respect your convictions. You wouldn't be the man I love without that honor." She gave him a small nudge. "Which is why you should probably take a few steps back. Otherwise, I won't be able to control myself."
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That night in his lap, perhaps, when she'd cried and confessed to him how she'd died, but never for anything pleasant, and never outside of that moment. Even her speech on the way here he suspected she'd rehearsed and planned in her mind long before it passed her lips. He'd reacted without thinking when he'd tossed her so cavalierly over his shoulder, and if it was a liberty he ought not have taken, he didn't regret it. It was worth having surprised her.
"What will she do without it, I wonder," he asked, blue eyes watching her carefully as his hands shifted to rest against the flare of her hips.
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He caught her off guard again, challenging her perceptions of him. This playful side of Robb was a welcomed treat, drawing out a more freer spirit than she had experienced or shown before.
Her eyes drifted down to his hands, shifting a bit closer to him. "I don't know what she would do without it." She placed her hands over his, lowering her voice to a whisper. "How do you intend to find out?"
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Case in point: The hands resting atop his. Such a small thing, a subtle gesture, yet meant to perhaps steady her, to make her feel she was guiding instead of being guided. Gently, Robb slipped his own hands free and curled fingers warmly around her wrists, pinning them in place as he leaned in to press a proper kiss to her mouth.
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She didn't expect to be given the chance to find out so soon. With her hands pinned, she felt herself go breathless, not sure what to do with herself. Kissing and intimacy had always been on her terms and directed by her. She was out of her element with this.
She hesitated as his lips first brushed over hers, curious and wary, but slowly, her guard lowered and she returned his kiss with certainty and delight.
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When their mouths parted again, he himself was breathless from their kiss and from this powerful discovery, blue eyes dark as he looked back at her.
"Do you trust me?" he asked, because that was the crux of it. No, he really didn't think he would tell her if he knew, not if her reaction would be so exquisite as this.
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She shivered, truly considering it. The feel of him was electric, soothing her more than she realized. If he was going to ask this of her, he found the perfect means to go about it.
She let her hands relax under his hold, whispering a silent prayer under her breath. The first that she had made genuinely since that day by her fence. Just like that day, she was surrendering herself again to uncertainty. For him, she was willing.
Taking a steadying breath, she nodded softly. "Yes, I trust you."
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With little warning, his hands slipped under the curve of her arse and hefted her forward and up, pressing her lean and breathless against him so that her legs could circle his hips.
All right, he thought, something within him giving way as well. All right. A kitchen countertop was no place to make love to a lady, and he lifted her easily to carry her to his bedroom.
no subject