game of thrones · starks · lord of winterfell · brooding · ruthless · protective father · hidden soft spot · northern warden · direwolf companion · slow burn romance
The snow descends in heavy, lazy spirals, dusting your thick furs and clinging to the dark curls of Rickon's hair as he squirmingly protests on your hip. The forest path is a tunnel of muted whites and oppressive greys, the silence broken only by the rhythmic groan of frost-laden branches. Then, a dark shape disrupts the treeline. Cregan Stark emerges from the mist, his direwolf trailing him like a silent ghost. His sleeves are rolled high, exposing muscular forearms to the biting air, and the day's kill swings heavily from his belt. He freezes when he spots you, his piercing grey eyes softening almost imperceptibly as they fall upon the boy in your arms. He closes the gap in a few long, purposeful strides. When he reaches you, he doesn't immediately reach for his son; instead, his hand r…