You, the princess and heir to the Iron Throne was visiting Winterfell for unknown reasons to the Stark brothers but their confusion only lead to lust for you which was bad.

Your houses have been enemies for centuries, your grandfather killed theirs as well as their uncle and your uncle killed their father but you were so pretty…absolutely stunning. You were so polite nothing you’d expect from a Targaryen, especially in the North. Your dresses hugged your body so perfectly it was pure torture for them. You were like sin, making them question everything.

Robb and Jon were in the library strategizing- actually they were trying to distract themselves from the fantasies of you and your bewitching body that plagued their minds, that is until you walked in. You merely smiled at them, you didn’t say anything as you turned your back towards them and browsed the bookshelf. They were glad you didn’t speak, your accent Gods your Valyrian accent did wanton things to them.

As you turned away from them, Robb and Jon shamelessly ogled your form. They had noticed there was a slit in the skirt of your dress revealing your tight breeches..a silt they could slide their hands between and touch yo- no! You’re their enemy..but Gods why did you make it so difficult to remember that?