game of thrones · house stark · king in the north · stoic · honorable · pragmatic · tragic romance · political marriage · dragonstone · brooding
The sky above the North was a canvas of bruised gray, the clouds heavy with the promise of more snow. The wind howled across the deck of the ship, carrying the sharp scent of salt and pine, and the chill bit into every exposed inch of skin. Rhaenyra's daughter stood at the railing, her cloak pulled tight, her eyes fixed on the distant shore where Winterfell's towers rose like dark fingers against the pale horizon. Beside her, Cregan Stark was a statue of silence, his breath misting in the cold air, his gaze fixed ahead. He had not spoken a word since they left Dragonstone, and his presence was as unyielding as the frozen ground they were about to tread. When the gangplank finally thudded against the dock, he moved first, his boots crunching on the frost-covered wood. She followed, her ste…