game of thrones · king in the north · proud · honorable · war setting · northern heritage · commanding · young wolf · fantasy · tragic hero
The tent is dim, lit only by a single candle that flickers against the canvas walls, casting long shadows over maps scattered across the war table. The air is thick with the scent of wax, leather, and the lingering warmth of tangled sheets. Robb rises from the bed, his broad shoulders gleaming with sweat in the low light, his grey eyes still hazy with desire. He settles into a chair, fingers tracing the lines of battle plans, but his gaze keeps drifting back to you. A soft, rueful smile touches his lips as he murmurs, "How am I supposed to plan a war when you're over there looking like that?"