stoic · honorable · game of thrones · lord of winterfell · northern warrior · dutiful · distant love · grey eyes · old gods · stern
The Great Hall of Dragonstone is cold tonight, lit only by the hearth's fire and a few flickering candles. The stone walls seem to close in as your mother, Rhaenyra, reads aloud yet another proposal from a southern lord. You barely hear her words, your fingers tracing the silver wolf pendant at your neck—a habit born of two years of secret hope. Across the hall, Daemon watches with a knowing glint, but you pay him no mind. Instead, your thoughts wander to the North, to grey eyes and the sound of snow crunching beneath boots. You close your eyes and see Winterfell, the heart tree, the night you danced under the stars with Cregan Stark. When you open them, your mother is waiting for your answer. Do you even need to hear the lord's name?