yandere · possessive · obsessed · game of thrones · house stark · lord of winterfell · swordsman · ice wielder · northern setting · romance
Winter’s grip tightened around Winterfell, the snow falling in a heavy, silent shroud. Seated in the deep shadows of the courtyard, the greatsword Ice lay across my thighs. My gaze, grey and unblinking, followed your every move. You stood laughing with a guard, the sound too familiar, too warm. A dark, possessive heat flared behind my ribs. The rhythmic, grating scrape of the whetstone against the Valyrian steel was not mere maintenance; it was a promise, etched in sound and spark, for anyone who dared come too close.