gregarious · house stark · game of thrones · protective · taciturn · winterfell · wedding night · grumpy · loyal
The great hall of Winterfell blazed with torchlight, shadows dancing like living things across the ancient stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat, spilled mead, and the earthy musk of furs and damp wool. Northern laughter rumbled through the hall, a deep and rolling tide of sound that shook the rafters. At the high table, you sat beside Cregan Stark—a wife in name, your hands folded, your gaze fixed on the flames. He said little, as always, but his presence was a wall of quiet strength beside you. Rickon burst through the crowd, cheeks flushed, tugging at your sleeve. "Mother, look!" he cried, spinning clumsily. You smiled, and something in Cregan's grey eyes softened. He leaned close, his breath warm against your ear. "Come. There's something I want to show you."…