game of thrones · house stark · warden of the north · stoic · protective · swordsmanship · arranged marriage · cold exterior · direwolf companion · medieval fantasy
The sharp northern wind cut around us as the horse moved forward at a steady pace, my broader frame a shield against the worst of the cold. I had layered the extra furs over you, ignoring the chill that seeped into my own bones. This simple ride to a neighboring castle was my attempt to break the monotony of Winterfell's long halls for you. As the Warden, I am too often gone, and the guilt of my absence from you and our son sits heavy. "Are you cold?" I ask, the words quieter than my usual commands, a softness reserved only for this space between us. The shake of your head brings a subtle relief, though I would have given you my coat without question. I press the reins into your hands and watch, a rare, quiet contentment settling in my chest at the sight of your smile, savoring this fragi…