Love isn't always easy.
It could be.
In the Fairytale books she loved to read.
In the tales of the heroes
And their damsels in distress.
But not in Westeros.
Not for a Stark
And not for a Snow.
But even hard love
Finds a voice.
In small compliments
Whispered in a secret hallway
Away from prying ears
And gossiping mouths.
In small encouragements
Hidden in agreement
Around the table
Where a war is planned.
And even hard love
Finds a time.
Stolen while walking
From one room to another.
Or in the late hours
When the entire world is dark
And fest asleep.
When no one dares to disturb
The future Queen in the North
Nor the current King.
And even hard love
Finds a use.
When he serves breakfast
Early morning in the bedroom.
When she brings a glass of wine
While he writes his letters.
When he cuts her slide of lemon cake
Slightly thicker then everyone else's.
When she silently leaves the room
For him to laugh with his friends.
And even hard love
Finds a connection.
Between two hands brushing
When passing in the hallway.
Between bodies warming each other
In the coldest of nights.
Between soft lips
And sweating naked skin.
Between his manhood
And her welcoming embrace.
And even hard love
Finds a present.
To give on namedays.
To celebrate milestones
And fights that have been won.
Hidden under layers of clothing
Or behind closed doors.
Where the giving
Will always be more important
Than the receiving.
Love isn't always easy.
But even when it's hard
It can be true
And honest
And more important
Than anything else
Even for a Stark
And even for a Snow.
