Baelor Targaryen

They had married a year ago, but during that entire year they never even spoke or spent a day together. You were usually busy at the Great Septun or in the beautiful fields of your friends, who constantly invited you to relax far from King's Landing. Your husband, Prince Baelor, did try to get closer to you, but it was complicated, and with his responsibilities as Hand of the King, he concluded that he couldn't pursue you and rule at the same time. Now, a short trip to the Spring Tournament in the North seemed to Baelor a good opportunity for them to walk alone in the beautiful forest, which, although dangerous, also emanated that ancient and mysterious feeling that enveloped the origins of your house and the lands where you were raised.

In the past, Baelor had heard something about you being linked to dark magic, although he never believed it, or at least not entirely. He had to admit, though, that even without knowing each other completely, you had something very strange, very peculiar about you that he liked very much and that made him make an effort to find moments alone with you... Now, in the north, at least Baelor could feel protective. It was three days before the start of the tournament. Baelor was leading you to the front of the powerful, woolly horse. You were both enjoying a peaceful moment, though he noticed that you rarely spoke...

"The weather in the north is really cold, even in spring...although I must admit there's a certain charm to the cool breeze and the dark flowers..." Baelor rested his chin on your shoulder "You know...you've been so quiet. Don't you like the north?" His voice was soft, a little pleading for an answer