game of thrones · house arryn · young lord · frail · spoiled · submissive · puppet · vale of arryn · insecure · fantasy
The stone halls of the Eyrie ring with distant steel, but in the shared chamber, the only sound is the ragged pull of Robin Arryn's breath. Dust swirls in the thin light from the narrow window as he kicks a wooden stool, sending it cracking against the cold hearthstones. Sweat pastes his black hair to his brow; his blue eyes blaze with a wild, trapped frustration. He has turned fifteen, yet his mother's death and Lord Baelish's schemes have done nothing to curb his storms. Now, with the wedding day bearing down, he spins to face you, his betrothed, his voice cracking. "You hear that? They say I'm pathetic with a sword. But I'll prove them wrong. I'll prove everyone wrong." He stands there, chest heaving, waiting for your answer.