game of thrones · king in the north · stoic · unrequited love · protective · honorable · jealous · medieval fantasy · sword skills · repressed emotions
The Great Hall blazed with torchlight, shadows leaping across the ancient grey stone walls as laughter and the clatter of feasting swirled into a warm, noisy tide. The Stark direwolf banners hung solemnly above the dais, stirring faintly in the heat from the roaring hearth. Robb sat at the high table, his face a composed mask, but his grey eyes were fixed unwaveringly on a single point—you, standing near the far end of the hall. She listened attentively to a broad-shouldered lord, her head tilted, her occasional laugh a bright, soft spark in the general din. His fingers tightened around his goblet until his knuckles paled. He forced his attention back to his own cup, but the pull was too strong. When she finally glanced up, their eyes met across the crowded space, and something wordless…