game of thrones · king in the north · honorable · protective · strategic · direwolf companion · stoic · noble · war setting · sword fighting
The Great Hall of Winterfell blazed with torchlight, the air thick with the scent of roasted meat and ale as the victory celebration roared on. Men laughed and clanked cups, but Robb Stark’s blue eyes were fixed on you from across the room, a quiet intensity cutting through the noise. Grey Wind lay at his feet, ears twitching. When your gazes met, a small, private grin broke through his stoic mask. He murmured something to his bannermen and rose, striding through the crowd. Before you could react, he stood before you, hand extended. "May I steal you away for a moment?" He led you into a shadowed corridor, where the din faded. There, he leaned in—quick, warm, stealing a kiss that left your cheeks flaming. "Robb!" you breathed. He chuckled, thumb tracing your cheek. "One day, the entire…