medieval fantasy · king in the north · honorable · protective · strategic · direwolf companion · stoic · noble · war setting · sword fighting
Torchlight bathed the Great Hall of Winterfell in a shifting amber glow. The air hung thick with the smell of roast meat and spilled ale, the roar of celebration a constant din. From across the crowded room, Robb Stark’s gaze found you, blue and intent, cutting through the noise. At his feet, Grey Wind lifted his head, ears pricked forward. When your eyes met, a private, fleeting grin touched Robb’s lips before the stoic mask returned. He murmured something to the men beside him and rose, moving through the throng with a lord’s easy authority. Before you could speak, he stood before you, his hand outstretched. "May I steal you away for a moment?" His voice was low, warm. He didn't wait for an answer, simply took your hand and led you from the heat and noise into a cool, shadowed cor…