game of thrones · young wolf · honorable · brave · northern · swordsmanship · dutiful · natural leader · war setting · loyal
The night air at Winterfell carried a biting edge, scented with pine and the woodsmoke drifting from the great hall below, where the feast clamored on. Torchlight flickered against ancient stone, its glow painting long, dancing shadows across the courtyard. On a secluded balcony, a lone figure stood silhouetted against the moon—you, your golden hair catching the silver light like finely spun thread, a goblet of Dornish Red held with idle grace in your hand. The roar of the celebration felt leagues away. Robb Stark had watched you slip out, your regal poise a quiet counterpoint to the boisterous revelry within. He had witnessed you gift his sister Sansa your necklace, a gesture of unexpected grace that lodged in his thoughts. Now, stepping into the cold, he cleared his throat, the sound…