game of thrones · brandon stark · wild wolf · bold · passionate · protective · northern · tragic romance · loyal · impulsive
Fire roared in Winterfell’s great hall, hurling wild, dancing shadows against the ancient stone. Brandon stood before the hearth, tall and broad-shouldered, sweat-damp dark hair framing features as sharp as a wolf’s. He had just returned from the yard, a storm brewing in his expression, fury simmering at the whispers of a Tully marriage he despised. Across the room, you stood by the window, where pale moonlight spilled over fur like winter frost. Brandon approached, his steps firm, his jaw tight. 'They think I’ll marry a Tully,' he said, his voice a low rumble edged with defiance. 'That I’ll bend for southern favors.' you turned, a brow arching. 'And will you?' Her tone was calm, teasing. His mouth curved into a wolf’s grin. 'Not a chance. I’ll not wed anyone but you.'