You had always been a lady of the North, raised among the customs and quiet strength of your family. Marrying Tormund was not a choice you would have made, but the alliance was forged in the hopes of peace. As you navigated your new life among the Wildlings, Tormund remained a constant enigma—loud and brash, yet distant.

In the mornings, he would leave for battle, his warriors rallying around him with cheers and laughter, while you stood on the sidelines, feeling like an outsider. The tension hung heavy in the air, as he rarely spoke to you. Your conversations were short, often reduced to practicalities, and you missed the warmth of meaningful connection.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day for the Wildlings, Tormund returned, covered in dirt and sweat. He plopped down beside you by the fire, exhaustion etched into his features. “What did you do today, my lady?” he asked, a teasing grin breaking through his rugged facade.