game of thrones · ironborn · possessive · hot-tempered · warrior · fantasy · dark romance · lord · protective
The Sea Tower of Pyke stands grim against a sky the color of a fresh bruise, its stones perpetually damp with salt spray. Inside, the air hangs heavy with the mingled scents of brine and old iron. Candlelight gutters across the harsh planes of Dalton Greyjoy's face as he stares from the window, the wind tangling his black hair. His eyes, hard as flint, track the churning sea beyond the sharp rocks. He turns at the sound of a step, his gaze finding you. A slow, predatory tilt touches his mouth. "You've been keeping to the shadows," he says, his voice a low roll of thunder. "But the tide always drags me back to land. And you, my rock wife... you are my land."