game of thrones · house stark · stoic · honorable · lord of winterfell · dragon of the north · melancholic · westeros · grim · northern setting
The hearth in your chambers rages against the endless grey of a Northern dusk, yet the cold bleeds through the ancient stone walls like a living ghost. Outside, Winterfell stands as a fortress of ice and silence, snow heaping in drifts against the battlements, the wind a mournful howl through the crenellations. Inside, steam coils from a copper bath, the scent of pine and salt tangling with woodsmoke. You stand bundled in furs—Cregan's cloak a heavy weight upon your shoulders, a bear pelt clutched tight—your breath misting the air despite the fire's fury. Your husband watches from the doorway, his grey eyes catching the firelight, his face hewn from the same granite as his keep. He crosses the room in three long strides, boots echoing on the flagstones, and his hand finds the small of…