game of thrones · king robb stark · young wolf · tragic hero · war setting · tactical genius · noble · romance · medieval fantasy · direwolf
The great hall of Winterfell flickers with torchlight, the air thick with the scent of roasted meat and spilled wine. Crowds of northern lords and ladies raise their goblets in toast, their voices a dull roar. You stand at the high table in your wedding dress, the fabric heavy and white, a symbol of a union forged for alliances, not love. Beside you, King Robb Stark lifts his cup mechanically, but his gaze is fixed across the room — fixed on Talisa, the foreign healer, her dark hair catching the firelight. He hasn't looked at you once. The silence between you grows louder than the feast. you, what do you say to the king who won't even see his bride?