#lykosog.

[stovmborn]

          they are to make their way north on the morrow, familiar lands to her, even more so than those of dragonstone. this silver haired queen had imagined the castle might feel like home, though dragonstone was a mere lonely spit of land, unlike anything that viserys had described. ghosts roamed the castles, those of her ancestors, she could feel them in the night, even if she could not see them. it was haunting, this place, though she could not imagine winterfell feeling any more like home, even if it was the place that she had been raised.

swallowing away the fear within her throat, daenerys looks out towards the sea, fingers tugging her evening cloak over her shoulders that little bit tighter, with apprehension in her eyes. just like the night she had arrived, a storm rages on beyond the castle walls. it howls in the night, screaming, as if to cause a devastation. somehow in its cries, daenerys recognises her own voice, though attempts to ignore it. lashes wisp to a close for a moment, drawing in a deep breath, slowly pushing it back out. and behind her, the door hinges sing, familiar footsteps entering the room. chin rests on her shoulder to glance over her shoulder, offering the young wolf a weak smile. ❝ struggling to sleep too? ❞

@lykosog.

[azmadaria-a]

@lykosog​ ♡’d  for  a  starter.

                      they  were  opposite  sides  of  the  same  coin.  a  flip  of  fate  itself.  daenerys  was  the  one  who  sought  to  reclaim  her  family’s  glory,  their  claim  to  the  iron  throne  and  the  ruling  of  the  seven  kingdoms.  to  be  a  queen  (  the  rightful  heir  ).  he  desired  to  be  king  in  the  north,  not  seen  since  aegon  i  had  conquered  westeros.  both  had  a  strong  backing  and  equal  reasons  to  deserve  such  a  title  :  it  was  she  who  had  brought  dragons  back  to  the  world,  just  as  he  had  ownership  of  a  direwolf  south  of  the  wall.  the  sigils  of  their  houses  rung  true.  the  dragon  queen  can’t  help  the  dread  that  builds  in  her  chest,  the  uneasiness  of  entering  the  north.  after  all,  they  were  a  proud  and  loyal  people.  the  north  loved  the  starks  and  were  wary  of  foreigners.  it  isn’t  until  she  reaches  the  hall  and  her  eyes  fall  to  his  figure  that  she  finally  lets  out  a  small  breath.  “  lord  stark,  i  presume?  ”