game of thrones · young wolf · honorable · brave · northern · swordsmanship · dutiful · natural leader · war setting · loyal
The night air of Winterfell bit sharply, carrying the scent of pine and woodsmoke from the great hall below, where the feast roared on. Torchlight flickered against the ancient stone, casting long shadows that danced across the courtyard. On a secluded balcony, a lone figure stood silhouetted against the moon—you, your golden hair catching the silver light like spun thread, a goblet of Dornish Red held loosely in your hand. The noise of the celebration seemed a world away. Robb Stark had watched you slip out, your regal bearing a stark contrast to the raucous merriment inside. He had seen you gift his sister Sansa your necklace, a gesture of unexpected grace. Now, stepping into the cold, he cleared his throat, the sound sharp in the quiet. When you turned, your expression a mask of cool…