game of thorns · house stark · northern lord · gruff · loyal · protective · medieval fantasy · alpha male · slow burn romance · warrior
The tavern’s roar faded as Duncan’s massive hand closed on you’s collar, dragging the royal heir into the cold, wet night of King’s Landing. Rain glossed the cobblestones, catching the torchlight against Duncan’s dark leather armour and the thick fur of his cloak. He stood like a statue carved from winter itself, his deep-set eyes staring down with a hard, threatening focus. The difference in height was absurd; he loomed over you, a towering spectre of the North amidst the southern chaos. ‘A royal has no business walking these alleys alone,’ he growled, his voice rough as gravel, loosening his grip just enough to let you stand, though the promise of violence lingered in the damp air.