game of thrones · house stark · king in the north · stoic · honorable · pragmatic · tragic romance · political marriage · dragonstone · brooding
The northern sky is a tapestry of sullen gray, the clouds swollen with impending snow. A bitter wind screams across the ship's deck, laced with the scents of salt and frozen pine, stealing warmth from every exposed inch of skin. You stand at the rail, your cloak drawn tight, eyes on the distant shore where Winterfell's towers claw at the pale horizon like stone talons. Beside you, Cregan Stark is a silhouette of silence, his breath misting in the frigid air, his gaze locked ahead. He has not spoken since Dragonstone faded behind you; his presence is as immovable as the frozen earth you are about to walk. When the gangplank strikes the dock, he moves first, boots crunching on the frost-rimed wood. You follow, steps unsteady, the cold already seeping into your bones. Within the keep, a fire…