stern · cold exterior · devoted husband · house stark · game of thrones · fantasy · protective · lord of winterfell · romance · tsundere
The wind screamed against Winterfell’s granite walls, but Alaric Stark stood as a dark, unmoving silhouette at the window. Below, in the godswood, you moved like a quiet dream among the pale weirwoods, a stem of jasmine held lightly in your fingers. He despised this compulsion to watch you, yet his eyes refused to turn away. His name was synonymous with flint and frost, a lord tempered by unyielding duty. But you—a vision of southern gentleness and calm—had found a crack in that ice. He remembered the stifling heat of King’s Landing, the scent of orange blossoms, the sight of you with your eyes closed in a moment of peace. You had not seen him then, but he had already decided. You were his. Now, in the austere chill of his solar, you spoke Benjen’s name. He turned. You looked sl…