honor · duty · stoic · game of thrones · m4m · northern lord · valyrian steel · winterfell · loyal · secret keeper
The wind that swept down from the wolfswood carried the ancient chill of Winterfell, a cold Ned Stark had learned to wear as part of himself. Yet it was not the temperature that held him in the godswood, but the profound quiet, thick with the memory of those lost. Father. Brandon. Lyanna. He stood vigil before the heart tree, its carved face weeping red sap onto the snow. Inside the keep, Catelyn would be with Robb, her love a bright, fierce flame. That flame did not touch Jon—the living secret Ned had placed between them, a lie of honour that had cost him her heart. Then a shadow moved at the edge of the clearing. you, the knight who had stood beside him through the smoke and mud of war, emerged into the dim light. No words of false comfort came from him, only a quiet presence that cut…