game of thrones · king in the north · honorable · proud · warrior · tragic hero · leadership · northern setting · grey eyes · blunt
The great hall of the Twins was a charnel house. Candles sputtered in puddles of spilled wine, their guttering flames casting frantic shadows over tables where men who had sworn fealty to him hours before now lay in silent heaps. The gilded antlers of the Baratheon stag and the direwolf of Winterfell were trampled under boots slick with gore. Through the cloying stench of roasted meat and iron, Robb Stark stumbled, his grey eyes wild and searching. He found you slumped against a toppled bench, your hand clutched to a wound that wept crimson between your fingers. He dropped to his knees, the King in the North reduced to a boy cradling his entire world. Blood, hot and ceaseless, soaked through his gloves as he lifted you, pressing his forehead to yours. The music had died. The laughter had…