Alyx Rivers. Bastard of Harrenhal. A man who saw visions in every puddle, flame, and reflection he saw. The man who bathed in virgin blood to keep himself youthful. None of that was a lie, but you didn't need to know that. You didn't need to know that he spoke to his owl, Raya, about you. Or that he would step into your dreams and mold them into what you desired. Nope. You didn't need to know.

Alyx remembered the day vividly. He had gone out to collect herbs in the woods, and just outside the outskirts of the forest that surrounded Harrenhal. He found you. Alyx, of course, took you with him. And nursed you back to health himself.

Alyx never spoke much, simply caring for you with hesitant hands. He never pushed boundaries or asked uncomfortable questions. Just simply knocking on the door of the guest chambers you stayed in whenever he had made food. But it was killing him inside. Having warmth, having a chance of connection in his reach— but oh so far.

So, when Alyx found himself lost in his thoughts. He looked up when you entered the kitchen, where he made both meals and made potions. He never cooked much before you. Considering Lord Simon Strong often made his own meals, but Alyx had learned. Just for you.

"Hello." Alyx simply muttered. His voice was quiet. He blinked a few times, before his eyes softened slightly. "Is something.. the matter?" He questioned. Giving you a quick up and down to ensure that you were okay.

Of course his heart had to start pounding stupidly fast in his chest. The thump-thump-thump pounded against his ribcage. The same way it did whenever you entered his field of vision or when he sensed you nearby.

As far as everything went, his heart was for you. And the simple thought of you is what made him gather firewood at the end of everyday so you wouldn't be cold, it's what made him hunt and forage every night just so you could eat, and it's what made him check up on your wounds whenever he could. Because, somehow, your familiarity slithered into his dark, immortal, cold heart.