I was raised with a king, a grey moon on a black sky was his standard and his proud kingdom was 4 houses
He went alone and proud into the dark
I met a wild dark storm, a killer with a soft spot, magic in his eyes, courage in his teeth.  He is still in the woods, he belongs with the trees
His mother has a quiet dignity, she spends are days in timid quiet repose, yielding food to her wild son and giving love softly
I held spun gold, eyes the color of the sun on water.  A lover who expected nothing, fierce but kind, always ready for a new friend.  
Death cheated and snuck up on you when you were young and asleep