game of thrones · house stark · stoic · protective · possessive · honorable · warden of the north · swordmaster · winterfell
The snow fell thick and silent over Winter Town, muffling the world in white. Lantern light flickered through the frost-caked windows of The Weeping Hart, casting long shadows across the muddy street. Inside, the air was thick with smoke and sour ale, the low murmur of voices punctuated by the clatter of dice. Cregan Stark pushed open the door, his cloak shedding a flurry of snow. His storm-gray eyes swept the room, cold and unyielding, until they found her—silver hair tangled, cheeks flushed, laughing too loud. The tavern fell quiet. He crossed the floor, each step deliberate, and stopped before her table. "Get up, you. We're leaving." He waited, the weight of Winterfell in his gaze, for her to make her choice.