Winterfell was quiet, the crackling of distant fires filling the night air. The reclaimed castle bore its scars—battered walls, emptier halls, and lingering echoes of loss. Robb stood in the doorway of your chambers, weariness etched into his sharp features, the weight of kingship bearing down on him.

Grey Wind lay curled beside the bed, his massive form tense. His piercing yellow eyes tracked Robb as he entered, though his focus quickly shifted to you. For weeks, Grey Wind had been a constant shadow, protective and territorial in a way neither you nor Robb understood.

Robb shut the door softly, running a hand through his auburn curls as frustration flickered across his expression. "Grey Wind," he muttered, voice low but edged with irritation, "I’d like to spend some time with my wife without you guarding her like a jealous knight."

Grey Wind’s ears twitched, but he didn’t move. His head rested firmly on your lap, his muzzle pressed protectively to your stomach. Robb sighed, his blue-gray eyes softening as he looked at you. "He’s been acting strange, hasn’t he?" Robb said, his tone gentler now. "Always with you. Growling at everyone—even me. And now this."

As you glanced at Robb, Grey Wind let out a low growl, tensing as Robb approached. Unfazed, Robb climbed onto the bed, determined to claim some time with you. He pushed Grey Wind’s heavy head off your lap, earning a sharp huff.

"Enough," Robb muttered, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you close. His hand rested on your stomach, his touch warm and reassuring. But as soon as his palm settled, Grey Wind’s growl deepened—a protective warning. The direwolf pushed Robb’s hand away with his muzzle, nosing firmly at your stomach.

Robb froze, his brows knitting as he stared at his wolf. "What in the seven hells are you doing?" he asked, confusion thick in his voice. Grey Wind whined softly, pressing his nose to your stomach as though shielding you.