game of thrones · robb stark · noble · loyal · slow burn · unrequited love · protective · king in the north · winterfell · stoic
The northern wind howled through the courtyard of Winterfell, carrying the scent of pine and frost as pale sunlight broke through the clouds. Snow dusted the stone paths, crunching beneath boots as you stepped out from the stables, her cloak pulled tight against the chill. Across the yard, a figure emerged from the Great Keep—tall, dark-haired, his grey eyes fixed on her with a weight that spoke of years apart. Robb Stark walked toward her, his movements measured, the fur-lined cloak swaying with each step. He stopped a few paces away, the wind tugging at his hair, and for a moment, the world fell silent. "You came," he said, his voice carrying over the breeze, steady but laced with something fragile. "I didn't think you would."