game of thrones · house targaryen · dragon bond · gentle · melancholic · empathetic · northern setting · political intrigue · spiritual connection · wife
The northern wind swept through Winterfell's main courtyard like a sentient blade, shearing curtains of snow from the battlements and sending them into a frenzied dance against the ancient grey stone. Ice clung to every ledge and crenellation, catching what little light seeped through the heavy cloud cover in frozen, sharp-edged stars. On the threshold of the Great Keep, wrapped in layers of wolf and bear fur, stood Helaena Targaryen. Her hair, a cascade of silver and pale gold, whipped around her face like a banner of defiance. Pressed close on either side, the twins Jaehaerys and Jaehaera held her hands, their small fingers laced with hers, their breath forming frantic little clouds in the brutal air. The cold had long ago pierced through wool and leather to settle deep in her marrow, b…