Chapter Text
Robb had wanted so badly to go on the hunt.
The royal party had been in Winterfell for a couple of days now and Father had organised a hunt to celebrate the King’s visit. They had plenty of stags and animals to hunt in the Wolfs Wood and Robb had been training with bows and spears for the task since he was a boy. This was a perfect opportunity to show that the respect and admiration shown to his father was well-earned and that he’d raised his heir to be a great, skilled man too. Robb was going to prove to the King and all the Lords that he could hold his own and make a fair, smart kill; be the strong alpha heir the North needed.
And yet, here he was. Stuck in his room because his mother thought he looked a bit peaky this morning.
Robb’s cheeks still felt red with embarrassment from his mother’s fussing as they broke their fast with their guests. After her inspection of him, she had soundly banned him from going out, despite his protests. The King had laughed uproariously over his bacon at the display and said Robb had better listen to his mother; no man could survive Catelyn Stark’s fury. Robb’s father had just smiled on, quietly agreeing.
Theon, the prat, had mocked him through breakfast as had his other siblings, Arya taking a particular glee from it. Even the young prince Tommen and princess Myrcella had giggled into their porridge.
Robb was just glad the Crown Prince hadn’t witnessed the scene, though it was sure to get back to him eventually. Joffrey, despite his charming front when the caravan was welcomed to the castle, couldn’t quite hide the mean streak that lurked behind cold blue eyes, and Robb was sure the prince would take any opportunity to lord something over him.
The Crown Prince hadn’t appeared for breakfast and neither had the Queen until halfway through the meal. She had checked in on her son when he hadn’t risen with the rest of her children and found him rather bedridden, struck by the beginnings of a cold that he must have caught on his way up to Winterfell. She wouldn’t let the master see to him, but said she’d sorted him out with remedies they’d brought on the road with them, made him comfortable and left him to rest. The King just shrugged and continued eating, while Maester Luwin was too polite to show offense at the slight to his expertise.
Robb wondered if the boy was just putting it on to get out of the hunt. He’d seen him watching Robb and Jon sparring the day prior, not quite hidden in the shadows of the balcony, and noticed the tightness in his expression. The jealous disappointment at seeing someone better than yourself at something. Robb was familiar with that feeling, though he was practiced at letting it pass him by. Jon was better at the sword and Theon the bow, but Robb had his own talents that neither of them could compete with so he could content with that. He had caught the Prince’s eye from the edge of the sparring ring while drinking from a waterskin and tried to wave him down to practice with them, but the blond had just scowled and marched off, back into the warmth of the castle.
The brat was probably happy he wouldn’t get shown up on the hunt today, though Robb heard he was good with a crossbow at the very least.
He just wished he could have gone on the hunt himself. Even Bran got to go! Though it was probably more to watch than take part. His brother hadn’t been invited until that morning and Robb squashed down the bitterness that rose in him at the thought. Father had to be able to show off at least one of his heirs to the King, much to mother’s displeasure. Jon and a reluctant Theon had looked to be taking care of him during the day’s adventures as they set off together on horseback with the king’s men. Robb could do nothing but see them off with an encouraging smile from his bedroom window until they disappeared into the mass of the Wolfs Wood.
Now he was alone.
He paced his room a few times, refusing to rest as his mother intended. He was too full of pent-up energy to lay or sit still. He had opened and closed the book Maester Luwin had given him for reading several times and only ever gotten a couple sentences in before snapping it shut and pacing before the fireplace again.
Maybe a proper walk would help.
Robb cautiously checked if the coast was clear before leaving his room and starting down the corridor. He passed no one as he went, meandering down all sorts of hallways and rooms, through doors, no destination in mind. He wanted to go outside, but he didn’t want to be caught, so he stayed near the bedrooms where people were unlikely to be this time of day.
As he neared the guest quarter, a pleasant scent lapped at him gently. He almost didn’t notice it at first, subdued as it was on the still castle air. Soft, like a warm summer breeze rippling slowly through a flower field. Sweetness like honey, but only a spoonful, and a dash of citrus, bitter under it all.
Curious. Lemons were hard to come by this far North, even in the glass gardens.
Robb followed his nose.
It led him to the royal family’s suite of rooms. They were empty, most of them out on the Hunt or the little ones touring the Gods Wood with their Uncle Tyrion, from what he’d heard at breakfast. He didn’t know why a lush smell like this would be coming from here, especially when he hadn’t recognised it emerging earlier during the King’s arrival or in the couple days since.
It was strongest by a door near the end of a corridor. Robb pressed his forehead to the grain and inhaled deeply. There it was. The scent filled his head thickly and he could almost imagine he was out on a picnic during the summer years, eating the rare lemon cake with honey while the sun shone on high and bees buzzed at the buds around him. He swallowed the saliva that pooled on his tongue and panted, suddenly realising how dizzy he felt.
Between the throb of his own heartbeat in his ears, Robb heard a keening call from inside the room.
Before his brain could even form the want, his hands scrabbled at the door handle and shoved it open, crossing the threshold faster than he thought possible. He was immediately bowled back against the closing door with a slam, foreign hands fisted in his jerkin.
Cold blue eyes stared into his own with an intensity he had never been subject to before. The mop of pale blond hair above was messy and slick with sweat. Pink skin glistened everywhere with it, all the way down, and further still. Oh my-
The Crown Prince Joffrey was in here, and he was naked.
Robb would have let loose a startled laugh if the whole sight hadn’t stirred something viscerally in him. He gasped wetly. And then-
It was in his mouth. The smell, the taste. It was in his lungs, in his veins, all around him.
If there had been any room to move between the door and the body pressed to his front, Robb would have shuddered. As it was, Joffrey somehow moved closer against him still. His gaze pinned him in place like a bug in a maester’s collection, unblinking and fierce. He grew closer and closer. Robb’s blown eyes crossed before his vision was full of gold threads and a hot nose was pressed to the sensitive skin of his neck tucked under his jaw.
A deep inhale against Robb’s throat. The keening call sounded once more, so close now; Joffrey. It vibrated along Robb’s own throat and he growled back instinctually, their voices resonating and making the air roll around them. Goosebumps raised along Robb’s spine.
Sharp teeth clamped at the base of his throat and bit down. Hard. The skin covering Robb’s mating gland broke.
Omega.
Robb clutched at the creature before him, wide expanse of skin firm beneath his frantic hands. He wanted to touch every part of this divine being, this wonderful thing. This new and better part of himself. He felt lifted, a bird on the wind. This must be what flight felt like. He soared.
His omega.
The omega nuzzled at the mark he’d made on Robb and nipped the space around it gently. He licked at the light blood Robb could feel beading at the bitemark on his neck and moaned at the taste. Robb moaned too, helpless to do anything but let the omega do as he pleased.
A far part of his brain wanted to question something. Something was not quite right here. There was something important he was missing.
But with his arms full and his attention occupied, Robb let the feeling wane. There were more worthy matters at hand.
Fingers clawed at the carved buttons of his jerkin and then the doublet beneath, lightning fast, dexterous even in desperation. Robb hurried to help, wanting as much skin on skin contact as he could as quickly as possible. He shrugged the layers off, dispatched his belt, whipped his tunic off, breaches, small clothes, until he was bare before his lover, because that’s what they were now, lovers, that’s what they would be.
The omega jumped up into his arms, wrapping his legs around Robb’s waist, a fist in his hair tugging sharply to the left. Robb followed the direction, taking him to the bed and dropping down with his prize into what he now realised was a beautifully constructed nest of furs and tunics. It smelt strongly of his omega. Delicious.
The hand in his hair tugged him towards a long, flushed neck, ripe for the taking. Robb ran his lips up the length of it in stilted bursts of chaste kisses, unsure where to lay his affections first. It seemed obvious; the mating gland summoned him like moth to a flame, but still he hesitated. He closed his eyes tight and pressed his forehead to it instead.
It was then that he realised they had been grinding feverishly against each other since they entered the nest. His hips wouldn’t still, driven on by the rampant desire plaguing him. His cock swelled where it pressed against the omega’s hard prick, occasionally slipping below, skating between his thighs, and collecting slick from the sweet hole that waited for him, to smooth their wild friction. A knot was forming at the base, thick and urgent.
His omega’s other hand went down to Robb’s cock, directing it to press against his entrance, and on the next thrust – there! Robb was inside his omega. It was unreal. It was godly. Wet and slick and tight and his. But not his quite yet. Not technically.
Again the hand in his hair pulled. This time anxious, a desperate but pleasured whine from its owner that rang forlornly in the short breaths between them. His head was adjusted to get his lips back to level with the mating gland, unmarked and singing to him of summer and treats, nature and a lifetime.
Robb’s hips sped up to the jackrabbit speed of his racing heart.
It was right there.
He felt his canine’s itching with the need to sink his teeth in and claim. It was getting unbearable. Excruciating to hold back. Right there. Right there.
Robb could feel tears drop into his hair above him and tears from his own eyes slid down to merge with the sweat soaking the skin below him.
A word whispered against the shell of his ear.
“Please,” Joffrey said.
Robb bit down savagely and came, knot popping on his final thrust.
His omega tasted of salt.
The world turned white.
And then black.