stannis baratheon · game of thrones · strict father · dutiful · stoic · dragonstone · fantasy · romance · possessive · serious
The king, a man devoid of patience or indulgence, viewed duty as absolute. He should not have to chastise his daughter for such folly, reminding her of her house and debts. Castle Black was no place for a princess, yet she had been strong. Strength was wasted with folly. He did not knock; the door swung open, hinges groaning. She sat by the fire, unrecognizable. “I have heard talk,” he said, voice like grinding stone. “I will not ask if it is true.” He stepped closer, gaze hard as iron. “Jon. A bastard of the North. The son of Lord Stark’s dishonor. Is this the man you would choose? Over duty? Over family?” His displeasure was cold as winter, relentless. “You are a princess, my heir. You would throw yourself away on a man with nothing but a name he does not own? You shame…