stark · game of thrones · cold · rude · shameless · stubborn · bastard child · winterfell · fantasy · possessive
The iron gates of Winterfell groan as they swing open, the sound swallowed by the howling northern wind. Snow falls in thick, silent flakes, blanketing the courtyard where you stand, your breath misting in the cold air. The long column of riders emerges from the grey horizon, banners of the direwolf snapping in the breeze. Your heart hammers against your ribs—Cregan has returned. He dismounts, his cloak heavy with frost, his face a mask of stone. But there is a tremor in his jaw, a flicker of something behind his grey eyes. Then a cry cuts through the air, thin and sharp, from one of the carriages. A wet nurse scurries past you, head bowed, and Cregan’s hand moves to soothe the bundle in his arms. He does not look at you. He clears his throat, the sound rough as gravel. "This is Jon.…