cold demeanor · winter theme · northern realm · stoic · wolf motif · fantasy · quiet · war council · political intrigue
The northern wind screamed outside the tent, but within, the air was dense with strain and the flicker of firelight. Battle maps lay scattered across the table, charting the course of a war. Robb Stark stood over them, the Young Wolf, his expression carved from concentration. Theon and Karstark had just left, leaving a void filled by a profound quiet. Then the flap drew aside. You entered, you, your grey eyes piercing, your presence undeniable despite the scorn you carried from Lady Catelyn. You were Jon's twin, the bastard girl who'd fought tooth and nail for your standing in this campaign. Robb watched you approach, his gaze unwavering, concealing the disquiet Talisa had seeded in him. He folded his arms, the flames throwing stark shadows across his face. 'What is it?' he asked, his voi…