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dragon-creates · 1 year ago

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Royally Screwed!

Prince Jax of the Kingdom of Laphria was…well, he was a jackass. He kept pranking the servants, threw the wildest parties within the castle and always kept trying to run away from his duties. King Kaleb and his wise Queen Quinn were at their limit, hoping for something to turn their son’s head around. Their prayers were answered when a traveling circus visits the kingdom, including a talented jester named Pomni. Jax’s breath was taken the moment he laid eyes on her, he knew that no matter what, he had to have her. It would be a lot easier though if she didn’t hate his guts.

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we have a new fic!!! this might not be part 2 of 5+1 but think of this as a little treat until that comes out in the new year. truth be told, this au already had a life of its own before I started writing, artiesrump on twitter came up with the idea on one of their posts and then allhailthequeenuwu continued with making some awesome concept art for it. one thing led to another and I started planning this out during writing the last chapter of 5+1 and here's the first chapter! I really hope you guys enjoy this cause this au is gonna be a lot of fun!

Nothing You Can Take From Me

The kingdom of Laphria.

It was a place of peace and prosperity. Home to beautiful rolling fields and meadows, a sanctuary to its residents and weary travellers and cherished each time the sun and moon would rise, for it was the sign that another beautiful day was upon them. This land was ruled none other than the beloved King Kaleb and his wife Queen Quinn. A couple with the kindest hearts that anyone had ever seen, and I love so strong that it could be seen from oceans away.

Truly, Laphria was perfect…apart from-

“That’s it! I’ve had it!”

The bedroom door of the king and queen’s bedroom slammed open, with the two-chess piece’s rubbing sleep from their bleary eyes as a maid with rubber skin and pink hair stormed in, covered from head to toe in confetti and leftover pudding.

“Oh dear,” once they king’s eyes were focused, he realised the state that the maid was in, “Another party?”

“Yes!” she snapped as a few other servants came in behind her, all covered in the same mess as she was. “How did he make it worse than the last one?! There were spiders in the chandeliers your majesty. Spiders! What kind of party does the prince need that involves spiders?!”

“Well that’s definitely new,” the queen mumbled, not pleased with this at all. She turned to her husband, “I believe we owe our son a chat darling.”

“Agreed,” he nodded, “That boy needs his head screwed tighter before someone knocks it off if he’s behaving this recklessly.”

They threw their comforters off, with the servants and two stationed guards following behind as the couple trekked to their son’s room.

When they arrived at the prince’s room, they had hoped to find a lazy lump of purple fur within the blankets and sheets of the bed. However it seemed that Prince had different ideas. The sheets were still there, only they were tied together into a rope and thrown out his open window.

“Oh no,” the queen groaned as her husband facepalmed. “Not again.”

From a small distance they could hear the boyish and cheerful whoops of a young man along with the stomping hoofs of a horse running further away from the castle.

“Guards!” the king spoke up, alerting the two next to him. “Gather a search party and go after him, I’ll save the chat for when he gets back.”

“Yes your highness,” the wooden toy soldiers chorused, saluting their king before running off.

The king groaned, “Why did the lord make our son so difficult?”

The air, oh just smell that fresh air! That party last night was the perfect distraction for him to get out of there. And the spiders! That was so much better than the centipede trick he pulled last time! And now he was out of the castle, away from his parents pestering him and the servants eyeing his every move. No lessons, no fencing and best of all, no responsibilities. Just him and his freedom.

He eyed the sun rising from across the field, he had been out for a good few hours, making the guards lose their trail of him was the highlight of his morning. Anyway, now was not the time to think about that. He was free to do anything he wanted right now, what should be the first thing he could do? There was the bakery down the street, he could snatch a few loafs down there. Or maybe he could go the seamstress down the street and see if her daughter wanted to ‘spend some time with him' and maybe buy a new dress for his sweet mother. Wait, no, he had a better idea! The firework shop down the street, those would be perfect to create a little show for everyone! Oh this was going to be perfect!

He took off again, lifting up the hood of his cloak over his head to conceal his identity. Once he arrived in the village, he took his horse into a spare stable and kept him there before making his way to the shop. He was able to sneak in and out thanks to his combat training (and he begrudgingly left a few coins behind because damn his lovely mother and her teachings of morals).

He ran to the village centre, laying the fireworks in an upwards motion before striking a match and running into the nearest alleyway to watch the show go down.

Boom!

The confused and petrified screams of the villagers were nothing but melodies in his ears. He couldn’t hold back his cackles as some ducked for cover at the loud boom, others had dropped their shopping and started sobbing, some even jumped at least ten feet into the air and landed on the rooftops. An obnoxiously loud snicker escaped him when a spare firework failed to soar into the sky like its siblings, instead it chased someone around until he fell to the ground and it smashed into a shop window. Truly, this was the best morning he had in a while.

His fun was ruined however when the familiar sound of clanking armour and huffs of horses made him snap out of his trance. The castle guards were coming, great. And that little light show was definitely a massive help for them to find him. Only Prince Jax of Laphria could pull off a stunt like that. He didn’t want to be caught, not yet anyway. He wanted to have a little bit more fun before going back to his gilded cage. There was a pile of crates and an old market stall with the cover still on top, if he could climb on those and blend into the shadows of the walls, he could be able to hide until the guards leave. Hehe, Jax you are an absolute genius he smugly thought to himself.

And so he did just that, he climbed on the crates, jumped on the old stall and grabbed the edge of the roof while resting his feet on the side of the wall. Hidden within the shadows and from the guards. He was truly too smart for his own good. But just before he could properly pat himself on the back, there was a tiny meow above him.

He looked up, and right next to his hand gripping the roof was a small brown tabby kitten.

Mew

“Uh, hi?” The prince gave him an awkward wave.

Mew!

Jack cringed, that was a little bit too loud. The last thing he needed was to be outed to the guards by a tiny round ball of fluff. “Keep it down, would ya!” he hissed at the kitten, “You’re gonna blow my cover!”

The kitten tilted his small head, turning to look at the guards and then back to Jax. The prince sighed in relief when he kept quiet, returning his focus to the soldiers when he felt a tug at his sleeve. He whipped his head back round to see to kitten pulling at the cuff of the fabric with its teeth. “Hey, hey! Quit it!” he tried to shove him away with his free hand, but the feline had a tight grip and refused to let go.

Jax bit his lip, trying to keep an eye of the search party. There was no way he was going to get found out because of a stupid stray cat!

He let out a yelp when he felt a paw swipe at his hand, along with a hint of claws. Now the kitten thought his hand was a toy, and that this little interaction of theirs was now a game. “No, no!” Jax pushed him away again, but the feline just kept coming back with his claws now fully out and leaving little scars on the prince’s hand. “Piss off!”

The kitten pulled back, Jax swore he was literally glaring at him. He gulped when the kitten leaned back on his haunches and wiggled his tail as though he were a little lion hunting his prey. “Don’t you dare,” Jax growled.

…mew

The feline wasn’t put off by the empty threat however, launching himself onto Jax’s hand, biting and scratching as though his hand were nothing more than a scratch post. “AAAHHH YOU LITTLE-” he cried out in pain as he let go the ledge to escape the attack on his fingers, unfortunately that action sent him face first in the pile of crates – which were filled to the brim with grapes, soiling his clothes.

The guards turned at the sudden noise, only to see their prince covered in purple stains and looking as if he emerged from the greatest battle of his life.

Jax lifted himself from the squashed fruit underneath him, cringing as he felt the fruit’s liquid seeped from his clothes and onto his fur. He dramatically groaned when the guards crowded him. “So, did you have fun with your wild goose chase?” he remarked at the soldiers glared at him.

Jax practically stomped throughout the castle as the guards guided him to the throne room, there was no doubt that his parents wanted to have some colourful words with him about the recent stunts he pulled.

The doors of the throne opened, revealing a disgruntled King Kaleb and a disappointed Queen Quinn. Jax winced, he could tell that he was in for an earful.

“You! Young man,” Kaleb got off from his throne and descended down the steps below it, “You are restricted to the castle grounds. Until I give my word, you are forbidden to step one foot out of these walls unless you have my permission.”

“Or what?” Jax rolled his eyes as he plopped onto the last step, slouching in an un-princely manner. “Are you gonna force me to play a metaphorical game of chess and how ‘my attitude is a disgrace to the people of our kingdom and it somehow represents the chess pieces’ of the game and all that other shit.”

“Don’t mock me Jax,” Kaleb grumbled, making his way closer to his son. “You are the crown prince and heir to Laphria, you must treat your role with respect!”

Jax turned suddenly, glaring at his father, “It’s also my life and I should have the freedom to do what I want with it.”

The king was about to say another word, a slight growl leaving his throat before he was stopped by his wife’s voice.

“Kabel, please sit down. The last thing we need is for you to have a stroke.” Quinn stood and made her way towards the two men. “Jax, you were born to privilege and with that comes specific obligations. You are an important figure to our people, one day the crown will go to you. You have to know what it truly means to be leader. But first, you have to accept the responsibility that comes with it, not just as a royal, but as one of your people.”

Jax sighed, he could deal with his father giving him lectures (it was rather funny seeing the old chess piece get riled up), but his mother was an entirely different story. If the rest of the world was cold stone, Quinn was a diamond. His father was a good man, kind and caring to his son while teaching him everything to know about the kingdom’s past present and future, but Quinn was always there to hold him whenever he was sad, help him with a hard lesson when he got to frustrated if he didn’t know the answer, taught him the values of human kindness even if the world kept spitting it back out. Just seeing that look on her face, knowing he did the complete opposite of what she taught him, it felt as though he were carrying the worst plague known to man.

“Forgive me mother, but shouldn’t I be the one to carry out how I choose to live my life than be restricted with what I’m expected to pick and choose?” he stood, facing Quinn. “And have you ever considered that perhaps I’m not worthy to be given the crown?”

“No, I don’t,” Quinn admitted. “A normal person who wasn’t worthy would not be trying so hard to fail.”

Shit. His mother always read him like an open book. “And what are you gonna do to stop me?” he retorted, trying to reel himself back in order to save whatever natural charm he had left.

“I will simply deny you the crown and…um, live forever!” Kaleb declared, his wife shaking her head at his ridiculous outburst.

“Finally,” Jax cheered, clapping his hands. “Thank you father. Now there’s something we can both agree on.”

Kaleb grumbled under his breath as his sudden mistake, letting his pride getting in the way of his logic were incidents that happened on the odd occasion, but it still meant that they did happen despite the rareness of it. Surprise, surprise, it was caused by his son. “You’re dismissed,” Kaleb waved his hand, “Take this time to at least attempt to reflect back on your actions.”

“No can do,” Jax bowed mockingly before the guards came back in to escort him to his room.

Once their son was gone and the doors were shut did Quinn turn back to her husband, “Seriously? Telling our son – who is doing everything in his path to avoid responsibility – that you’re going to not make him king was your best idea?”

“I know, I know,” Kaleb sighed. “Our son has a talent for making me lose my head sometimes. I just…I’m at a loss here Queenie, I don’t know what to do.”

She took his hands in her when he said his nickname for her, a silent calling for help. “Kinger,” She replied with the nickname she had for him in return, “I know how you’re feeling. It’s hard seeing him act like this, but he can only be helped if he allows someone to do so. But I have a feeling that something will strike that boy with realisation soon. He’s a good man and will be a great leader someday. We just need to let him find his sense of self first.”

“I hope you’re right,” Kinger sighed, “I think Jax is making me age faster than I should be.”

Queenie let out a small laugh, “Don’t worry, you’re still that same young man I met by the lake at midnight.”

“I still remember it like it was yesterday,” he said, letting the memory play behind his eyes. “You looked so beautiful, and I kept getting tongue-tied trying to figure out what to say to you.”

“It was adorable though,” she cooed. “Just wait until Jax gets his head turned, that will certainly be fun to watch.”

“Huh, now there’s an interesting thought,” Kinger chuckled. “Our son tripping over his feet over a girl or boy.”

“Perhaps that will knock some sense into him,” Queenie suggested as she rested her head on her husband’s shoulder.

“Only time will tell my dear,” Kinger patted her hand, “Only time will tell.”

Jax slammed his door, throwing back the curtains of his canopy bed before dumping himself face first onto his bed, letting out a load groan into his pillow. He was almost free, almost able to do anything he wanted without fear of consequences. If it wasn’t for that puny little stray he wouldn’t have gotten caught. That’s it, he now deemed cats as the worst animal in the world.

And what his mother said?! ‘Trying too hard to fail?’ Oh please, why couldn’t his parents except that he just wasn’t fit to be king? It would save them all both stress and time. There were plenty of other worthy noble figures in the kingdom, just toss them the crown and everything will be fine! He flipped over in his bed and onto his back, rubbing his hands over his face. He may be stubborn, but he would be damned if he didn’t inherit it from his parents.

He jumped when he heard a faint scratching sound at the doors of his balcony. He turned slowly to see a small blob at the bottom of the door window. He got up from his bed, going over and opened the doors. His stomach sank, sitting right in front of him was the stupid kitten that got him into this mess. “Oh no!” he glared at the tiny feline, “Absolutely not! You can’t come here after backstabbing me like that.”

Mew

The kitten ignored him and pattered inside, roaming around the room and taking in his surroundings. “Hey, get out!” Jax chased after him and picked the cat up by the scruff of his neck. “Don’t walk around as if you own the place!”

Mew

“Oh I get it,” Jax scowled at him, “You think you can act all cute and get whatever you want after what you just did. Well guess what fleabag? That shit won’t work on me.”

Mew

The kitten gently pressed a paw on Jax’s cheek, no claws and no malice. Just a small kitten reaching out for some affection. A lonely tiny creature…scared a hungry…despite how feral it seemed at first, all it really wanted was warmth for another being. Jax shook his head, “Nope! You are not cute,” he pointed his finger to the feline, “You hear me you are not-”

The kitten gave his finger a little lick.

Mew

Jack exhaled slowly, “I’m not gonna win this one, aren’t I?” The kitten purred against his finger, with the rabbit giving him a scratch behind his ears. “Alright fine. If you stay here at least you won’t be terrorising anyone else. I’ll accept ‘responsibility’ or whatever it was mother said. See, I’m able to do that.”

Mew

Jax shifted the kitten, sliding an arm under his chest and held him with his hand. “You’re gonna need a name first. If you’re staying here, the staff is gonna need to know what to call you,” he took a good look at the brown tabby, thinking for a moment what the best name would be for a small little feline like this. “Hhmm. How about…Motley?” The kitten only titled its head in response, “Yup, you look like a Motley.”

Motley let out a meow, purring as the prince scratched behind his ear again. Jax grimaced as he noticed dirt under the kitten’s fur, he must’ve been on the streets for some time if that amount of dirt had built up. “But first, a bath,” he declared, “The last thing we need are your paws trailing mud everywhere. Just be lucky my mother didn’t catch you, the last time I did that was the first time I believed the phrase ‘if looks could kill’ was about to become real.”

Motley went silent at that, seeming as he were choosing not to test if that were true or not with the queen. “Come on,” Jax carried him to the bathroom, “Time for a bath.”

The kitten let out a protesting mewl at that, Jax rolling his eyes. To be fair, he showed some resistance to baths when he was younger as well so he couldn’t fault Motley for that.

He stepped into the marbled bathroom and moved to the porcelain tub, turning on the water and testing the temperature before putting in the plug and plopping Motley down. The kitten was not happy at all with the sudden change, already hissing and clawing at Jax’s hands, trying to get out of the bathtub as the rabbit grimaced at the new scratches.

Yup, cats were just delightful.

Despite the gruelling process, he finally managed to get Motley clean. The kitten was glaring at him the whole time he was getting dried off. Honestly, Jax felt a little smug about it. Revenge for selling me out you little shit.

Although, there was something quite heartwarming about all of this once the kitten was dry. He lay on the mattress, nuzzling the soft blankets underneath him as he though it were the first time he rested on a bed. Fully trusting someone with his safety after a life on the streets.

Jax felt a smile on his lips, before shaking it off and picked up Motley under his chest again, “Come on. You can sleep later, let’s get some food in you first before my parents send the cavalry to my room just so I get to dinner.”

Mew

Motley seemed to like the sound of that, climbing up Jax’s arms and curled himself around the prince’s neck, with the rabbit automatically giving his head a scratch. “Yeah, yeah. Little attention whore.”

The cat didn’t seem to take notice of the prince’s comment, rubbing his face against the prince’s cheek (Jax was desperately trying not to coo at the adorableness of it all).

He made his way down the halls, not caring for the servants who stared at the new little creature round his shoulders. All he wanted was food and then sleep, maybe plan another escape plan if he had the energy for it. Finally, he made it to the dining room, his parents already waiting for him while chatting excitedly in hushed voices.

Now that intrigued Jax, not by much but still, “What are you two going on about?”

His parents turned at the sound of his voice, suddenly gawking at him as though he had grown a third head. “Uh…Jax?” Queenie spoke.

“What?” Jax placed a hand on his hip.

Kinger raised a finger to the feline, “Who is…um, your friend?”

Jax switched his gaze to Motley, the kitten staring at the two monarchs with wide eyes, “Oh him? This is Motley, he’s the worst thing in the world but I guess he’s my cat now. You don’t mind if he sticks around, would ya?”

“I-” Queenie was genuinely at a loss for words. Yes Jax had brought back to the castle much odder things – and people – but never once did she expect that he would bring back a kitten. “Well, he does look very sweet.”

“Here,” he lifted the cat off his neck and placed him down in his mother’s lap, “You can take him for a while, I need a minute to get away from the stench of kitten breath.”

The queen was about to say something to Jax, before Motley rubbed his head against her hand, silently requesting for her to pet him. “Oh,” Queenie cooed, unable to resist the small creature’s sweet eyes peering up at her as she ran her fingers down his back, “Well aren’t you adorable.”

“Adorably annoying,” Jax muttered under his breath.

“And yet you still chose to keep him,” Kinger retorted. He didn’t have a mouth, but if he did Jax swore he would definitely be smirking at him right now.

Jax scoffed at his father, pulling up a chair and immediately slumping once he sat down. The chef’s brought in the dishes and lifted up the lids to start serving the royal family their food consisting of mashed potatoes, steamed vegetables, freshly baked bread and a whole chicken - along with a little bowl of food for Motley once they heard about the surprise guest. As soon and Jax tucked into his meal, he turned back to his mother, “So, what were you two giggling about before I walked in?”

Queenie perked up at the mention, “I’m so glad you asked! There’s a travelling circus going around and is coming to visit our kingdom! There are lion tamers, tightrope walkers, even a contortionist!”

“Sound the same as every other circus,” Jax muttered as he played with his food.

“Your mother has been really excited for this,” Said Kinger, “Apparently they have a star performer that everyone is obsessed with.”

“Oh please,” Jax stabbed his fork into a carrot, “What could be so special about them that they’ve got everyone tripping over themselves for?”

“Word says that she has a special talent with magic tricks, so good that no one can tell how she pulled it off,” Queenie explained, “That and she has a beautiful singing voice.”

“So she can sing a little and show someone their spade card, so what?” Jax said, “Anyone will put a label on someone to promote something because they know it’s gonna attract an audience. Like dangling a toy in front of a cat…no offense Motley.”

Mew

“Regardless,” Queenie sighed, “As the royal family, we’ve agreed to watch them on opening night when they arrive. And you’re coming to Jax, no exceptions.”

“You’re kidding?” Jax groaned, slamming his fork onto his plate at his mother’s words.

“Please Jax,” Queenie’s eyes softened towards him, “I understand the apprehension, but this is something that I really want to do with us all together. Not just as an expectation of us as royals to see an event, but to spend time as a family to see a fun show. Please sweetheart, for me?”

Jax’s heart twisted at the look on his mother’s face. He sighed, he didn’t like putting on all this stress for his parents, for his mother took it harder the most. She saw so much good in him, so much faith in him in both as a prince and son. His father still expected more from him, but his mother – no matter how many times he was an absolute prick to her – always saw the best in Jax, somehow knowing that deep down there was that light that needed to be reached. It was annoying…but that was what he loved about his mother. He should at least to this for her, she’s been through enough as it was.

“Fine,” Jax sighed, picking up his cutlery today, “For you mother. But I’m bringing Motley too, he has to suffer with me.”

Mew

“I think I would enjoy his company very much,” Queenie nodded, petting the kitten, “After all, he’s part of the family now.”

“Oh, great,” Jax muttered, sipping some water.

“You’re the one who brought him home,” Kinger teased in a sing-song voice.

The prince scowled, muttering, “Shut up Dad.”

The theatre was packed. Anyone who was anyone in the kingdom had all been invited to see the travelling circus, but more so, they were curious about the star performer that no one could stop talking about. The whole theatre was built as a circle, for the audience to watch while a door on the far side of the circular ring was connected to what people theorised to be the tent.

The royal family had a special booth reserved only for them to oversee the show from the best angle, wearing their best attire and crowns. Jax slouched in his chair, ignoring his father’s bickering for him to sit up. He really didn’t want to be here, but his mother looked so excited. At least he brought Motley so that he was forced to indulge in the prince’s misery. Although he wouldn’t bet on the cat being that upset, after all he was well fed, groomed and sat on Jax’s lap to watch an amazing show.

“You’ll see Jax,” Queenie whispered to him amongst the chatter, “There’s gonna be something in this show that’ll leave you breathless.”

“If that happens, I’ll eat my crown,” he muttered, folding his arms over his chest.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Kinger retorted, stifling his laughter at Jax’s annoyed expression.

The lights dimmed, spotlight centring the stage as the crowds went silent. Jax scoffed, everyone got excited way too easily over a room doing dark. He ran his hand over Motley’s head, the kitten’s eyes entranced by the bright colours. Honestly he should have expected it from him, he was a cat after all, you could swing a necklace in front of him and he would think it was the best thing in the world.

The drums rolled, and from the back of the set-up tent, a clown ran out onto stage. “Welcome one and all to our circus!” he bellowed, the crowd applauding madly in response. Jax clapped slowly in an unimpressed manner while Kinger and Queenie gave out a cheer. “My name is Kaufmo and I will both your ringmaster and clown for this evening! We have a very special line up for all you lovely folks! From lions! To tightropes! And our own special star that I know you’ve all been waiting for!”

The crowd went rapid at that sentence. Jax just scoffed, everyone was such a sheep these days.

“But I won’t keep you waiting any longer, let’s get right to the sho-woah!” Kaufmo suddenly slipped on a conveniently placed banana peel before landing face first into the ground, making the crowd erupt into laughter.

Really? Jax thought to himself, this is what gets people going?

“Oh, sorry ladies and gentlemen,” Kaufmo brushed himself off with a goofy smile, “But I’m sure we can move on from here.” As if timed perfectly, a bucket of water fell on his head, soaking him to the brim.

Jax sighed at the audience overexcitement of the shenanigans. “Everyone knows that this is rehearsed, right?” he whispered to his mother, “This is so cliché!”

“Oh shush,” Queenie waved a hand at him dismissively, “It’s funny Jax. Just have fun.”

Jax feel back into his seat, trying to seek an accomplice in Motley, but he seemed to be as addicted to this as the rest of the crowd.

The clown continued with that as his act, tripping and falling while telling jokes left and right at the same time. Jax found the whole thing pretentious, why was everyone acting like they hadn’t seen a clown before? Were they really that desperate for entertainment?

As soon as he finished with his act, a ragdoll with red hair wandered on stage, waving and smiling sweetly at the audience while carrying a couple of hoops over her shoulder. Kaufmo patted her on the shoulder as she set up the hoops before he went back into the exit of the tent. It seemed that the ragdoll seemed to be caught up with her setting up, for two lions prowled out with her back turned.

The crowd murmured as they stalked closer, sitting back on their haunches, ready to pounce. Everyone’s cries to the Ragdoll fell on deaf ears as she continued to hum and prepare. Suddenly, the lions pounced! The crowd screamed! The ragdoll whipped round, and raised both of her hands, placing it each on the lions’ noses respectively. The audience gasped. She moved, the lions going backwards with her as she led them to the corner of the ring.

She reached into her pocket, pulling out two strips of meat. “Stay,” she commanded, the lions obeying her word.

From the top of the ring, there were jumps set up, each one of them a different height and climbing up like a staircase on each side until meeting at the same height in the middle. Both lions went on each side of the steps, jumping and climbing until they reached the top. With a snap of a finger, the first lion jumped down, standing on all fours in a circle while the second lion jumped on its back, balancing there for a few seconds as the audience applauded.

But it wasn’t over yet, the second lion jumped down and both trotted and separated themselves to the two set up rings respectively. With another snap of her finger, both lions jumped through at the same time. Jax put his elbow on the arm of his throne, resting his cheek in his palm. Woah, animals jumping, so revolutionary. The ragdoll disappeared off stage for a moment, returning with a flaming torch as the audience murmured. Everyone faces dropped once they realised what the flame was for. Without sparing a moment, she lit both the rings on fire.

She snapped her finger, the lions ran, without a moment of hesitation, they jumped.

The crowds held their breathes, some even shutting their eyes out of fear.

Both lions came out unscathed and the fire went out. There was a beat, before the audience cheered and whistled and the ragdoll and lions bowed before going back off stage.

“That was incredible!” Queenie exclaimed, “I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it!”

“Imagine the courage one must have for that!” Kinger agreed, “That young woman was fearless!”

Jax shook his head at his parents’ antics, “Oh come on! No one actually believed that they were gonna go on fire! There wouldn’t even be a circus at this point if that happened!”

“Jax, you have to admit that her skills were impressive,” Kinger pointed out.

“You’re just easily amused,” the prince huffed. Motley was kneading Jax’s trousers beneath his paws, copying how the lions kneaded the ground each time before they performed a trick. Jax patted his head, “Sorry to break it to ya buddy, but you’re only gonna be the size of a foot when you’re older. Might as well give up on those lion dreams of yours.”

Mew

Someone new came on, a pink and yellow amalgamation of parts who looked as though they were going to fall apart any minute. Their routine was simple enough, twisting and stretching their limbs in the most unbelievably flexible ways. The audience oo’ed and aa’ed at how far he could take it without even showing a wince on her face.

“He’s cheating,” Jax muttered, “He can literally detach himself, it doesn’t count.”

This time it was Motley’s turn to shush him, swiping his paw at the prince’s shirt with a mewl. Jax pulled a face at the kitten but quieted down anyway.

Once the contortionist went back off stage, the lights started to go upwards, revealing a tightrope with two performers at the top. The first seemed to be a woman with the head of a Moon on her shoulders, while the other was a man around her age who shared the appearance of the Sun. Nodding to the Sun, the Moon began her routine. Tip toeing across the rope, seeming as though to fall off – to the audience’s collective shock – before breaking out into a pirouette, as though there wasn’t a fifty-foot drop beneath her.

The Sun started to do the same, spinning on one foot before both of them stopped at the same time. Both of them ran to the middle, taking one another’s hand before producing canes from their sides. The two began to perform a little tap dance on the rope, waving their canes around without a care in the world with grins on their faces. While the audience was losing their mind, Jax inspected his nails to make sure there wasn’t any dirt in them, far less interested than everyone else.

The Sun and Moon ran off back to the ends of each side of the rope, pulling out a unicycle and mounted them before cycling back onto the rope. They went back and forth, pulling out a few small balls from their waistcoats and began to juggle them,

Jax was sure he had read about this scene in a book before, nothing new here.

Finally, the duo finished and bowed for their cheers before running back off again.

The next act seemed to have the entire circus cast out, including a new member, a body of ribbons and a mask on her face. A few tables and chairs were set up as well as some sort of makeshift kitchen area. The ribbon girl seemed to be playing some sort of waitress, stumbling and shaking in an exaggerated manner. Jax groaned, realising that this was going to be a slapstick act, just great.

The act was predictable, a couple played by the ragdoll and clown were on a date, the sun and moon were bystanders and the contortionist was the owner of the pretend restaurant. The ‘waitress’ was attempting to get a meal out to the ‘couple’, but was constantly messing up. Whether it was tripping over a ‘customer’s’ foot, absentmindedly eating the food herself, even forgetting which table to bring the food to. Each mistake would lead her back to the start of her journey. It all escalated when she tripped one more time, bumping into the clown and making him get on one knee, as though he were proposing. The act ended with the ‘couple’ getting together, the other ‘customers’ being happy for them, even the ‘owner’ was happy for them and the ribbon lady keeping her fake job.

The crowd clapped again once the act was completed, Jax however felt as though he was about to fall asleep. At least there was only one act left and he would be down with this fiasco.

“Just you wait Jax,” Queenie leaned over to him, “I’ve heard far and wide that this star performer has entranced every audience she’s come across.”

“I for one am very excited,” Kinger said, “She must be very talented if she’s the most talked about.”

“As long as it’s the last act, then I’m fine,” Jax sank further in his chairs, Motley now sitting straight instead as he prepared himself for the final act.

What he didn’t know was said star performer was currently hiding within the shadow of the ceiling, taking a breath to calm her trembling nerves before she had to go on. She looked to Kaufmo within the tent, behind the scenes on the ground. He looked up to her, mouthing to her if she was okay. She nodded and closed her eyes, she could so this.

The lights dimmed one more time, as two red aerial silks fell from the roof. Jax’s eyes wondered to the top, a small trapeze swing between the two silks. He could barely see what was up there, there was a shape of a body but it wasn’t even visible. Why would anyone get excited over someone they couldn’t see-

-You can't take my past

You can't take my history

His ears perked. A voice rang out into the empty quiet like a melodic bell.

You could take my Pa

But his name's a mystery

It had to be the most beautiful thing he ever heard in his life. Soft and delicate yet commanded everyone’s attention, including his.

Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Oh nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

The body stood, grabbing both silks in her hands and startled twirling down, the strum of a guitar started playing and the audience clapped along with the upbeat tempo. Once the lights shone on her, Jax stiffened, his voice caught in his throat and his heart started throbbing madly in his chest.

The woman holding and sitting on the silks was a jester, with short and shiny brown hair, mesmerising red and blue eyes, along with milky skin that seemed to be smooth to the touch. She wore a regular jester hat, only the bells were replaced with two gold spheres and wore a glittering red and yellow leotard with long sleeves instead of a usual get up he’d come to expect from that line of work.

And her voice, of her voice. How it charmed him, like a river, both calming yet ready to be powerful when needed. His lips began to quirk into a smile as his foot involuntarily tapped along with the music.

You can't take my charm!

You can't take my humour

You can't take my wealth

Cause it's just a rumour!

Putting her body weight into one of the silks, she let go of the other one and started to swing round the ring, putting out her hand to the audience as they tried to reach her. Once the silk slowed, she used her other hand to grab it and twirled upside down as she kept singing.

Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Oh nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

She lifted herself up, twisting the ribbon until she was in a sitting position one knee up to her chest and her other leg pointed out.

Thinking you're so fine

Thinking you can have mine

Thinking you're in control

Thinking you'll change me

Maybe rearrange me

Think again if that's your goal!

She uncurled the silk, twirling back down to the ground in a graceful manner until her feet hit the ground and she faced the crowd. The audience went wild, shaking one another in their seats as the jester continued to dance. Jax found himself cheering along as well.

Queenie took a moment to look at her son, bewildered by the fact that he began to enjoy himself. Sure the act was amazing, but there was something else about him. His posture became more relaxed, his smile seemed to be genuinely happy and free of malice, and his eyes were locked in and focused on the jester…wait a minute. She looked back to the jester and then back at Jax before letting out a gasp of realisation.

“Darling? What’s wrong?” Kinger asked, worry lacing in tone for his wife.

“Nothing, nothing my dear,” she reassured him, “I think our son is in love.”

The jester stopped for a moment, bringing her bare feet together before lifting a hand again. She waved it around her head, a navy night blue mist appearing from it. Just like lightening, she vanished!

The crowd and Jax gasped, whipping their heads round to find where she could have gone.

Cause you can't take my sass

You can't take my talking

They followed her voice and found her in the right corner of the ring, continued her song with her harmonic voice. She waved her hand and disappeared again. This time, appearing in the royal family’s booth. Both Queenie and Kinger exclaimed in surprise and delight.

The jester made her way towards Jax, reaching out to him. His pulse thundered in his ears and heat began to rise to his cheeks. To his shock, she pulled her crown over his eyes and disappeared again, making Jax snap up and push his crown back as he tried to look for her again.

You can kiss my ass!

Then keep on walking

She was back in the middle of the ring, strutting as if nothing has happened. She waved her hand one more time, making the silks levitate on their own, surrounded by the blue mist as they neared her.

… Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Oh nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

As they travelled slowly, the red silks slowly faded into the same colour as her mist, the crowd awing at the trick. Jax noticed her leotard and hat doing the same, the yellow and red disappearing, replacing it with a diamond-sequined deep blue with spaghetti straps instead.

No sir, nothing you can take from me is worth dirt

Take it cause I give it free, it won't hurt

She grabbed the silks again and lifted herself, twirling them around her until she was sitting on them like a swing.

… Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

No nothing you can take was ever worth keeping

The music quickened as she climbed up the silks again, Jax’s eyes following her every move, too entranced to look away. Both she and the music got faster, climbing and climbing and climbing until she grabbed and pulled herself back onto the trapeze swing, saluted the audience – and with one more wave of her hand, sparks erupted from her place, dazzling the audience. Once they had faded, the crowd looked back. She was gone, as if she was never there in the first place with the silks returning to their original red colour.

There was a beat.

The audience stood, cheers and screams ripping from their throats as a thunder of applause ripped through the crowd. Jax couldn’t stand due to Motley in his lap, but he was still just as loud. Motley meanwhile was looking at him, titling his head from the prince’s reaction to the jester. It intrigued the little kitten to say the least.

The entire cast ran out, including the jester, giving one final bow as the crowds cheered louder before disappearing back into the tent.

The lights went back on as everyone began to murmur and whisper to one another about how amazing the show was. Jax was left awestruck, frozen in his chair, unable to process the complete and utter dazzlement that was the singing jester.

“I take it my son has a crown he has to eat now,” Kinger chuckled, brushing his robe a little bit.

Jax didn’t reply, still stuck in his own head.

“Jax, are you alright?” Queenie asked, getting a bit worried.

“That jester…” he breathed.

Oh, now Queenie understood, her suspicions being confirmed. “I see,” she nodded slowly, “I take it you like her?”

Jax turned his head so fast that he nearly got whiplash. “Like her?” he questioned his mother, “She’s incredible! Her voice! Did you hear her voice?! It’s not like anything that I’ve heard, and the fact that she can sing while doing all that in the air! And her magic tricks! Oh mother, she was amazing!”

He caught himself when he saw both his mother and father raising both their brows at him. He decided to save himself further embarrassment, he already knew that they would tease him about this enough as it is. An idea went off in his head. The circus had a while before they went back to whatever inn they were staying at to rest, perhaps he could pay the little jester a visit before he left.

“You guys hold onto Motley for a while,” he stood, picking up the kitten as he mewled while being placed in his mother’s arms. “I’m gonna go give that jester my congratulations.”

“Uh, Jax?” Queenie said, but Jax was already running out of the booth, “Jax!”

“Oh dear,” Kinger muttered, “I believe we made a mistake.”

Pomni sighed with relief, her blue leotard reverting back to its yellow and red while talking off her hat as soon as she was back behind the scenes, everyone hugging one another and giving each other high fives.

“You guys did great!” Kaufmo grinned, “I’m so impressed of how are far you’ve all have come!”

“Not bad for opening night,” Zooble placed a hand on his hip, “Although I think most of it is owed to Gangle and her creative skit idea.” She gave the woman a wink, the ribboned woman blushing at her partner.

“Zooble,” she giggled as they pulled her close, “You were great too.”

“Being out there has never made me feel so alive,” Moon let out a relaxed breath, recalling the euphoria of being on the tightrope.

“I agree!” Sun beamed, practically jumping up and down with joy, “It was spectacular, amazing, show-stopping, fantastic, spectacular- oops, I said that already, didn’t I?” He rubbed his neck bashfully.

“Don’t worry about it Sun,” Ragatha patted his shoulder, using her other hand to pet her lions. “However I can’t deny that Pomni stole the show, as she always does.”

Pomni gave her a shy smile, shuffling her feet a bit, “Stop, you’ll make me flustered.”

“Because its true!” Ragatha exclaimed, the rest of the cast nodding their heads in agreement, “You’re a stable of this show!”

“A true star, and trust me, I know a lot about them,” Moon gave her an amused look.

“You were like a million stars at once!” Sun cried, “Though if you think about it, stars are also suns, so you were like a million suns! Wow!”

“I mean, I agree…I still liked Gangle the best though,” Zooble murmured.

“I always love hearing you sing Pomni,” Gangle took her hand, “You have the voice of an angel.”

Kaufmo came up and placed a hand on her shoulder, “I for one couldn’t be prouder.” He gave it a reassuring squeeze, with Pomni placing her hand on his.

“Thanks Kaufmo,” she smiled back.

“How are you doing kiddo?” he asked softly, “I saw you shaking up there before you went on. Did you have those nightmares again?”

Pomni paled. It was quite jarring how easily he could read her. Kaufmo had been her rock since day one after all, he knew better than anyone when she had hard nights. She opened her mouth to answer when someone barged into the room.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the cast of the show,” Prince Jax jeered, making himself at home, “Don’t mind me, I just wanted to thank you guys for an awesome show. Especially you little lady.” He winked at Pomni.

Pomni choked, why on earth was the prince waltzing in here unannounced? Didn’t he have princely duties to attend to? And why the hell was he calling her little lady?!

“Oh well, that’s very kind of you-” Gangle began to walk up to him but was pushed aside by him and she fell right into Zooble’s arms.

“Hey!” Zooble snarled, checking Gangle for any injuries. “What’s your problem?!”

“Excuse me,” Ragatha placed a hand on her hip, “You can’t just do that to one of our own. Not when we travelled all the way here to put on a show for you and your kingdom!”

“Look doll-face, I didn’t ask for you to be here,” he sneered, before turning his gaze back to Pomni. “Not that I’m complaining though.”

Pomni scoffed, gaping as she looked to Moon and Sun, the former of the duo looking furious. “I have the right mind to drag you out by the ears of you don’t apologize to Gangle right now,” Moon hissed.

Sun gulped, hiding behind his twin sister.

Ragatha’s lions had even began to have enough of his presence, growling and baring their teeth at him as he backed away slowly.

“Now, now,” he tsked, “We don’t want the crown prince of Laphria to go back out with his handsome face all mangled, now do we?”

Everyone’s faces fell. He was right, one wrong move and they’d all be imprisoned.

“All I want is to speak to your little jester here, is that such a crime?” he pouted.

They all turned to Pomni, awaiting her decision on what to do with this situation. “Kiddo, Pomni, you don’t have to do anything he tells you to do,” Kaufmo reassured her.

“Don’t worry Pa,” she said, a little nickname that she saved just for him, “I got this.”

Kaufmo’s eyes flickered to Jax, glaring at him before going back to Pomni. He smiled at her and let her continue.

Pomni walked to Jax, the prince was already acting smug about it too. “So, Prince Jax of Laphria,” she raised a brow at him, “In the flesh.”

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me,” he grinned, it seemed to be starting off well. She looks even lovelier without her hat on.

“Oh I’ve heard of you,” Pomni confirmed, “You’ve got quite the reputation it seems.”

“All good things I bet,” The prince smirked, looming over her.

Pomni didn’t move a muscle, the height difference didn’t affect her for what she was going to say next. “Actually,” she began. “I heard you’re a no-good son of a bitch who spends his days disrespecting those who sacrifice their mornings and nights just to serve whatever little thing he wants.”

Jax’s eyes widened, this was not how he thought this was going to go.

“Awful to the people who not only rule this kingdom but spent every day of their lives raising you just for you to turn out to be a jerk,” Pomni continued to list it off.

Jax was going to admit it, that one stung a little.

“You embarrass those you deem beneath you and refuse to take responsibility when their reputation is ruined because of your words and actions!” she scowled.

Okay yeah, he’ll admit it, he took that one a little too far.

“You cause destruction and mayhem in your own home with the worst of the upper class because you feel like it!” another flaw she pointed out. “And what was your most recent one? Let me think. Oh yeah, you set off fireworks and nearly set fire to a village you’re going to rule over one day!”

Jax rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Word really got round fast about that, huh?

“So excuse me your royal highness, but I would like nothing for you to leave this tent and never step ten feet toward me again,” she gave him an exaggerated bow, still glaring at him. “Now if you don’t mind, leave!”

He opened his mouth to speak, only to be faced with the glares of a protective clown, a ragdoll with a knife, a Moon holding a noose and two lions looking at their next meal. Yup time for him to leave.

Pomni sighed with relief the moment he left. She didn’t think she would have the courage to stand up to someone as important as the prince like that, but she was glad she did. Everyone patted her on the back, impressed with her accomplishment as well, including Kaufmo. “Great job kiddo,” He murmured.

Pomni smiled warmly, “Thanks Pa.”

Jax walked out the tent, meeting the dissatisfied looks on his parent’s faces. “Well, we did try to warn you,” Queenie muttered, handing him back Motley, “But I’m afraid this is one of those cases where your heart is bigger than your brain.”

Motley mewled in seemingly agreement with the queen, rubbing his head against Jax’s palm so he could pet him.

“Let’s head back home,” said Kinger, taking Queenie’s hand lovingly before whispering in her ear. “I have a feeling that star performer won’t be leaving his head anytime soon.”

Queenie nodded subtly in agreement and the royal family headed out of the theatre.

During the carriage ride back, while petting Motley, Jax couldn’t stop thinking about that jester…no, Pomni was her name. That was what the clown said, right? The bite of her words, the ice within her eyes, the sharpness of her tone. All of it was meant to push him away…it was a good thing that Jax was determined and stupid.

He would show her that she wasn’t what she said he was! He’s a prince, he could do anything! He was going to shower her in the most lavish gifts known to man. Whether it be gowns, food, new equipment for her shows, anything! He was going to show her that he was worthy of her time.

In fact, he sure that be the end of the week, she would be fawning at his feet. Jax chuckled, he was way too good at this.

Motley could only watch in despair as his new master set himself up for failure.

Song Credit: Nothing You Can Take From Me by Rachel Zegler.

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justmymindandstuff · 1 month ago

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Hello, how you doing ?

Could i request Cregan Stark x Daemon's first daughter, born from Rhea Royce ?

She is a Targaryen and has a dragon, but she is very shy and tends to keep to herself, so she doesn't tell Cregan about being bullied by Arra Norrey's maids, who think she is not good enough for their lord.

He figures it out when he finds her letters to Rhaenyra and sees her trying to put her bags on her dragon to flee in the middle of the night.

Feel free to ignore this if you don't like it, have a lovely day ☺

Shadows of the past - Cregan Stark x TargaryenReader

summary: Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell, is forced to remarry after the death of his first wife and childhood sweetheart. His new bride is the eldest daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce. Cregan fears the worst. But his wife is sweet, gentle, beautiful, kind. Everything he could wish for. He starts thinking you are slowly building a life together in the north, however he realizes that it is not as idyllic for you as he thought.

words: 7.244

warnings: angst, mention of bullying, mention of sex (not explicit), slow burn

a/n: I love writing for Cregan soo much its not normall anymore. Thank you anon for your request🧡. I hope you like it. Sorry that it took me so long.

no use of Y/N, and as always: English is not my first language, no beta, AO3.

requests are open// main masterlist// hotd masterlist

When the offer of your hand from Dragonstone came, Cregan was skeptical. The eldest daughter of the rough prince as a wife. But he needs a new wife. It is his duty as the Warden of the North. And an offer from the Targaryens is not something you simply refuse. So he agrees.

Cregan had expected you to be a spoiled, arrogant, selfish princess.

The girl who arrived in Winterfell on her dragon is exactly the opposite.

You are shy, reserved, calm.

Outwardly, you are entirely Targaryen, with long blonde hair, deep lilac eyes, gentle facial features, beautiful.

Internally, there is none of the infamous Targaryen temperament in you.

When you speak, your voice sounds like a melody, always soft and gentle.

If it weren't for your dragon, Silverwing, Cregan would never think you are Daemon Targaryen's daughter.

The first few weeks, you were very closed off. Never speak unless you are spoken to. Spent most of your time in your chambers, with work or with your dragon.

So he tries everything to make you feel comfortable in Winterfell. He walks with you through the Goodswood, has your favorite food prepared, makes sure you have enough warm cloaks and dresses. When he introduces you to his son Rickon, he is more nervous than he should be, but your eyes begin to shine as the heir of Winterfell greets you politely, just like Cregan has practiced with him.

On your wedding night he swore to you he would never take you if you didn't want to, he gave you all the power in your marital bed. That night you allowed him to lie with you, he was careful, always aware of your fragility, making sure that you also felt pleasure. After that night you didn't invite him into your bed again. Cregan longs for you, but he would never pressure you.

In your first weeks as Lady Stark you spend a lot of time with Winterfells Measter, ask a lot of questions, slowly working your way into your duties as Lady Stark. Cregan quickly notices that you are well prepared for the role of a Lady of a Great House in Westeros, but Winterfell is unlike other castles. You surprise him by quickly get used to it.

The moon hasn´t passed fully since your wedding, when he finds you one day in Rickon's chambers. You are sitting on the floor with his son and play with wooden soldiers, Rickon is telling a fantasy story and you are encouraging him. Cregan's heart swells slightly at the sight.

He clears his throat to get your attention, you flinch violently, when you look up at him you look like a deer.

You get to your feet immediately, surprisingly elegant despite your hectic behavior. "My Lord." you say and lower your head in front of him. A gesture that he couldn't drive out of you.

"My Lady. What are you doing here?"

"We're playing papa." Rickon intervenes without being asked. "Are you playing with us?"

"Unfortunately, I can't today, I have duties to attend to. I just wanted to check on you, my boy."

"I'm fine, father. We're playing great. I have so much fun." he holds up his favorite woodknight.

"Then I don't want to disturb you any further." he smiles at his son, nods to you and then leaves the children's cambers again. His Lords are already waiting for him.

In the evening you come to his chambers, standing uncertainly in his room. Cregan was not expecting you anymore, he has already changed for the night. He offers you a mug of warm beer and a place by the fireplace. As you sit down your cloak slips and the white of your nightgown flashes through. Cregan has to concentrate not to let his gaze wander.

"What brings you to me so late, my wife?" he asks curiously, sitting next to you at the fire.

"I'm sorry." you don´t look him in the eyes.

Cregan has to blink a few times, doesn't understand what you mean. But you don't say anything else, avoid his gaze so that he has to ask. "What are you sorry about?"

"I didn't mean to upset you." your hands play with the fabric of your cloak.

"You didn't upset me, wife. What makes you think that?" he asks, confused. Did he behave differently? Did he speak in a too harsh tone with you?

"Today with Rickon. It upset you that I played with him. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I have no intention of replacing his mother, your late wife."

Cregan has to suppress a laugh. How wrong you are. "It didn't upset me, sweet wife." his voice is soft and you finally look him in the eyes. Your eyes are wide, surprised, your lips open slightly. Cregan wants to lean forward and kiss you, but he doesn't. "I'm glad that you're spending time with Rickon. Maybe you can be a mother figure to him someday." he expresses his wish hesitantly.

"I intend to love him as if he were mine." you say, a smile creeping onto your lips. Cregan is brave and reaches for your warm hand, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. You don't pull away and continue speaking. "But he shouldn't forget his mother."

"Don't worry about this, Lady Selina, Lady Darcy and Lady Alys will keep the memory alive."

"The Nursemaids. What does that mean?" you tilt your head slightly, examining him closely. The soft light of the fire catches in your hair and makes your skin glow warmly. Gods you are beautiful. Cregan has to swallow before he can answer.

"They were my late wife's friends, her Ladies. After Arra died, I asked them to stay in the household to look after Rickon." remembering how overwhelmed Cregan suddenly was by everything, and how much the loss of his first wife hurt him, he needs a moment to ground himself before he can continue speaking. "If that bothers you, then of course I can dismiss them and send them away from Winterfell."

He knows that this loss will hurt Rickon, he has been surrounded by the three Ladies his whole life, Selina was Arra's best friend. However he would do it for you, he wants you to feel comfortable and Rickon would get over the loss of his nannies, he is a Starkman after all, one day he will be as tough as winter. He has to be.

"No. No, please don't send them away." you squeeze his hand a little. "It is important that her friends are here. They need to tell him what his mother was like. I mean his real mother. My mother also died when I was young. I hardly remember her and I have nobody how can told me something about her." you suddenly sound sad. Cregan is surprised by your words. Additional to the Ladies, he regularly speaks to Rickon about his mother, takes him to her grave, tells stories, has a portrait of her hung in Rickon's room.

"Your father doesn't talk about her?"

You sigh, a narrow smile on your lips. You look into the flames again before speaking quietly. "No, never." you bite your lower lip and then whisper. "I was told he killed her." Cregan doesn't doubt for a second that it is true. He squeezes your hand gently. You look at him again, a sad smile on your lips. "It hurts when you don't know your mother. It's like half of yourself is missing. And my other half is a monster. I'm glad Rickon is learning about his mother and that his father isn't a monster."

A lump forms in Cregan's throat, he doesn't know what to say. Your words touch him, but at the same time make him angry at your father and he feels sorry for you. Your life doesn't seem to have been particularly bright.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"Thank you. But I don't need your pity." for the first time, Cregan feels like he sees the dragon blood in your eyes. "My stepmothers both treated me as if I were their own blood. I didn't grow up without love."

"I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't." your gentle smile is back on your lips. "So I can take care of Rickon?" you avoid his gaze again, your cheeks are slightly red.

"Of course. I'm glad you're getting along well."

"He's great. A good boy." you smile and then get up elegantly from your chair. "I'm retiring now. Good night husband."

"Good night sweet wife." he sinks into a slight curtsy before leaving his chambers. Cregan takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair. He's happy that you want to take care of Rickon. That you want to be a part of his family. This is something he wanted for this marriage, that you can be a family.

Cregans efforts take fruits. He has the feeling that you are slowly thawing and starting to trust him.

A light summer snow falls down and gets caught in the fur of your hood. Cregan has take you for a ride through the Wolfswood today. Cregan is surprised how well you can hold yourself in the saddle. In the next moment, he doubts his sanity. You are riding a dragon. Such a horse is of course easy for you. You look around with wide eyes and a gentle smile on your face. Cregan can't help but stare at you, captivated by your beauty.

"I missed that at Dragonstone." you say, looking over to him. Cregan flinches slightly, doesn't quite understand what you mean.

"Forests?" he guesses. He has no idea about Dragonstone's vegetation.

"No. To see something new. Dragonstone is an island, if you live there long enough, you've seen everything." you shrug your shoulders.

Cregan has to chuckle slightly. "You have a dragon, sweet Wife. You could have seen the whole world."

"I would never have left my family." you say firmly. Are you angry?

"I didn't mean to offend you." he tries to circle back. He is always a bit unsure when he talks to you. He wants you to feel comfortable, that you are doing well, and he wants you to like him. Maybe someday you will love him. He finds it hard to be patient. If he is honest with himself, you had him from the very first moment. Your beauty overwhelmed him, your kindness and gentleness captivated him, and your smile. Gods, your smile makes his heart beat faster.

He knows that he loves you. Even if he can't tell you. Not yet. He is afraid of scaring you. So he holds back. He tries to give you space so you can get used to your new role, your new home, and him.

He would love to scream his feelings for you from the wall so that the whole world hears it.

But it is not the right time for that yet.

A soft smile is on your lips again. "You didn´t husband."

He is relieved and returns your smile. "Do you want to go back? It's a little cold today."

"I'm not cold. I'm from the blodd of the Dragon. The cold doesn't bother me. It´s almost like I belong in the north." in the next moment your eyes widen and you look down. A blush spreads across your cheeks and Cregan has to swallow, his heart skips a beat.

"You are Lady Stark. You belong to Winterfell now." he says, trying to take away your insecurity. You don't look at him again, but he sees a smile on your lips. Maybe you'll even belong to him someday. He hopes so.

Back in Winterfell, you let him help you off your horse. His hands stay on your hips for a moment too long, but you don't seem to mind. You look up at him, your cheeks turn slightly red but you manage to hold his gaze. Cregan drowns into your beautiful, violet eyes. He leans forward slightly, wanting to feel your lips on his even if it's only for a moment. You don't back away.

"Papa." Rickon's voice echoes across the courtyard. Cregan and you flinch apart. He lets go of you and turns to his son. Anger flares up in him briefly at the disturbance, but when his boy jumps into his arms with a broad laugh, it immediately disappears.

"Rickon! Don't be so wild." Lady Darcy comes running out of the castle after him. Cregan notices you shifting your weight from one foot to the other next to him, out of the corner of his eye he sees you turning to your horse. A strange feeling spreads through him. At that moment Lady Darcy comes to him, opens her arms to take Rickon. "My Lord Stark, welcome back," she greets him and curtsies slightly.

"Papa, can I visit the dragon? Darcy says it's too dangerous alone, but you're back now," his son calls excitedly. Cregan's stomach tighten, he keeps himself as far away from Silverwing as possible. He is not comfortable with the monster. Even if there have been no problems so far, your dragon only hunts prey, stays away from people and the farmers' livestock. She usually flies further north, you told him that she has a cave there.

"I think that's a bad idea." Dracy interjects. "The monster is unpredictable, far too dangerous."

Cregan thinks for a moment, of course the nursemaid is right, Silverwing is dangerous. But you know your dragon better. You will certainly be able to judge whether your dragon poses a danger to Rickon or not. He turns to you to ask if it's okay for you to go visit your dragon with him and Rickon, but you are no longer standing next to your horse. His gaze searches the yard, but there is no trace of you. You sneaked away quietly and secretly. Cregan's eyebrows furrow.

"Papa, please, please. I promise I won't pet the dragon either. Just a quick look."

"My lady wife must go with you, Rickon. But she seems to have other things to do today. Another time."

Rickon's lower lip trembles slightly, but he knows better and doesn't burst into tears. The heir of Winterfell doesn't cry over such little things as a denied wish.

"What important things Lady Stark must have to do." Cregan is surprised by Dracy's bitter tone, but he pushes the thought away; perhaps he simply misunderstood her.

The Maester warned him that summer could soon be over. It has been summer for four years now. That means more work for Cregan as Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell, he has to make sure that his people survive this winter, at least most of them. Winter demands his victims, every damn time. Cregan can only keep the losses as small as possible. So he sinks into paperwork and negotiations with the Lords of the North. Nobody wants to share supplies, everyone is afraid that there won't be enough for themselves. Cregan's tasks is it to find compromises. He would much rather spend his time with you, he longs for you, for your gentle smile, your kind words, the time you have spend together. He wonders if you miss him too?

He only ever gets brief glimpses of you, when you meet in the hallway you give him a smile, when he makes it to the hall for dinner you are usually already sitting there with Rickon, greet him friendly and assure him that you are happy to see him.

Cregan is on his way to a meeting with the carpenter. The houses in Winter Town need to be made winterproof and the villagers need his help. As he walks across the gallery that spans one of the courtyards of Winterfell, your laughter pulls him out of his stride. He stops immediately and turns his head towards the noise.

You and Rickon run across the courtyard, playing catch. His little boy jumps back and forth in front of you, laughing loudly. You let him win, pretending you have trouble catching him.

Lady Selina steps beside him. Her lips are drawn into a thin line.

"My Lord." she slightly bows her head before him and Cregan smiles faintly, he finds it hard to take his eyes off you and Rickon.

"What can I do for you?" he asks and hopes that it's nothing urgent. He's considering canceling the meeting and taking you and Rickon to the Goodswood instead, where you can spend time together as a family without being disturbed.

"I am worried, My Lord." now she has his full attention. His shoulders tense up.

"What happened?" Unrest among the lords, a fight? The servants usually know this things before he does.

Selina gives him a smile. "Nothing happen, My Lord."

He breathes a sigh of relief. "What troubles you then?" Cregan tries not to sound as annoyed as he is. Selina knows that he has a lot to do at the moment. Neverless for the sake of the love he had for his first wife, he always tries to be friendly, even though Selina can often be irritating. Sometimes she takes herself more important than she is, behaves like the Lady of Winterfell, and Cregan has had to remind her of her position more than once.

"It's your new wife, My Lord." she starts, her smile is friendly, doesn't really fit her tone. At the mention of you his heart beats faster, he just has to think of you and he feels like a little boy with a crush. Seeing you makes him float on cloud nine. Cregan turns back to the side and looks down at you again. The broad smile on his lips is unusual for the young Lord.

"We can be glad that she is here with us." his voice is gentle. He has to clear his throat and straightens his shoulders. He quickly slips back into his role as Lord Stark, not the lovesick idiot.

"Can we?" the sharp tone makes Cregans skin crawl. He furrows his eyebrows, turns around. Lady Selina does not flinch from his gaze, but straightens her shoulders. She is a northern woman, intimidation does not work on her. She is like him, hard as winter, unyielding as the wind.

"Is there something you wish to tell me, Lady Selina?"

"No, my Lord. It's just that I… we think that a southern girl might be too weak for the important task of being Lady of Winterfell." she chooses her words carefully, smiling. "I´m only thinking about Rickon and his upbringing. I want the best for him, you know that."

The mention of his son causes his anger at Lady Selina to evaporate. Of course she is only thinking of his son, she wants the best for him. Loves him like her own child.

"My wife is a princess, a Targaryen. She does her job well. Or have you heard something else?"

"No, of course not." Lady Selina lowers her head slightly, no longer looking at Cregan. "I'm just worried about Rickon."

"I really appreciate your concern and care for my son. But your doubts are unfounded. Now if you would excuse me."

"Of course, my Lord." She clenches her jaw and sinks into a curtsy. Cregan walks past her to finally meet the carpenter, he is already too late.

Negotiations with the lords are going badly, Cregan is buried in work and doesn't know what to do. The sun has long set but sleep does not come to him. Instead he sits by the fireplace in his chambers, the taste of beer on his lips and stares into the flames. He sighs. He needs help. Could you give him some advice? That would kill two birds with one stone, he could finally spend some time with you again and maybe find a solution. Without thinking twice he calls for his servant and sends for you.

It doesn't take long before you enter his chambers. You look around uncertainly, you have thrown a cloak over your nightgown, your long blonde hair falls loosely over your shoulders. You are sight for sore eyes.

"My Lord husband," you whisper, curtsying deeper than usual. You slowly take a few steps into the room and stop in the middle. You tremble slightly, your breathing is faster than usual and your hands fumble with the hem of your nightgown. "You ordered me into your bed." your voice trembles as you take a step towards his bed.

Cregans heart sinks, he is on his feet in a heartbeat. You flinch. "My sweet wife, no. I told you I would never do that." he says quickly. It was stupid of him, of course you would think he was ordering you into the marital bed.

"Oh I just thought. Because some time has passed since our wedding night. I thought you might be impatient."

"No. I just wanted to discuss something with you. Please sit down next to me." he points to the chair in front of the fireplace. The fire gives off pleasant heat, sweat forms on Cregan's forehead. However, you are shaking slightly. Cregan reaches for his cloak and puts it around your shoulders before sitting down himself again.

You smile. "Thank you husband." you whisper.

"I'm sorry about the misunderstanding. I just thought you might be able to offer me some advice."

You smile again and Cregan is happy about it. "I don't know if my advice is really useful."

He has to suppress a snort at your modesty. You handle your duties as Lady Stark flawlessly.

"I'm sure it is. And besides that, well." he interrupts himself, noticing the blush rising in his cheeks. "I've hardly had any time for you in the last few days. I'm sorry about that too. I wanted to spend time with you."

Your smile widens. "I've missed the time with you too." you whisper and Cregan's heart starts racing. You missed him. You shift back and forth, making yourself comfortable. "How can I help?"

He starts to describe the problems to you, the stubbornness of his lords, the lying about their supplies even though he knows full well that they have more than they admit. The arguments among themselves.

"Can't you force them to give up some of their stock?" you ask after listening carefully.

This time Cregan snorts, leans back a little in his chair. "And how am I supposed to do that?" Inciting Bannerman against Bannerman would only make things worse.

"Silverwing could help."

"No!" his tone is sharp, his voice too loud for the pleasant atmosphere. You flinch in shock, look at him with wide eyes before avoiding his gaze again.

You swallow. "I'm sorry. It was just an idea. My father always uses Caraxes to get his way." you whisper. Cregan leans forward, reaches for your hand. His heart stops while he waits to see if you pull your hand away. You don't, his fingers carefully wrap around yours.

"Using your Dragon would fulfill the purpose, but I don't want to intimidate my men with her. I don't want to rule with fire and blood."

You nod. "I understand. It was stupid of me."

"No." he shakes his head and gently strokes the back of your hand. "I just hope for a peaceful solution."

You straighten up a little. "Then let's look for a peaceful solution." You both start to brainstorm, but your conversation quickly drifts off. You talk about your childhood in Pentos, your days on Dragonstone and your siblings. Cregan manages to open up about his uncle, how he had to fight for his inheritance and for his rule.

It's good to be able to tell you all this, to have someone to confide in. Only when you yawn after every word and Cregan has trouble opening his eyes again after blinking do you decide to end the evening.

"I'm going back to my chambers then." you say and pull his cloak off your shoulders.

"I'll call a guard for you."

"No, please don't wake anyone up. I'll find the way myself," you say, but your look is uncertain. Cregan also has a bad feeling about letting you walk through half of Winterfell at night.

"Then I'll accompany you."

"Please, husband, don't make yourself so much trouble because of me. You're exhausted yourself and it's an unnecessary journey for you." you object.

Cregan looks at his bed, it's big enough for both of you. Arra has also spent most of her nights here.

"You could sleep here?" he suggests quietly. Your eyes dart to the bed and then to him. You swallow. "Not to fulfill your marital duties, just to sleep." Cregan quickly clarifies.

"What will people think?"

He has to suppress a laugh. "You're my wife, my lady. The people won't think anything."

Your cheeks turn slightly red again. "Right." you think for a moment and then pull your own cloak from your shoulders. Cregan has to look into the flames so that his gaze doesn't get stuck on the curves of your cleavage and he stares like an iron born. Only after you get comfortably under the furs and blankets of the bed he slips off his own clothes and lies down next to you, keeping a safe distance.

"Sleep well, sweet wife."

"Sleep well, husband."

When Cregan wakes up the next morning, you've already disappeared, but your side of the bed is still warm. He turns to the side, buries his face in your pillow and inhales your scent deeply. Cregan knows that you prefer to fly with Silverwing in the morning, so he doesn't worry.

He's tired, but he still throws himself into work.When he returns to his chambers late that evening, you are already sitting in the chair by the fireplace. You turn to him, your cheeks red, but you look him in the eyes. Your hands shake slightly as you hand him a cup of wine.

"I got it from Pentos. I told you about it yesterday." He nods. He's still surprised that you're sitting here, he can hardly believe it. Warmth flows through him and he can't wipe the smile from his lips. He slowly takes your wine and sits down opposite you. "We didn't find a solution to our problem with the Lords yesterday." if you plan to come to him in the evening until you've found a solution, he wish there wasn't one.

Three evenings later you are sleeping in his bed again, two weeks later you snuggle up in his arms before you go to sleep and in the morning you kiss his cheek before you set off to see your dragon. Cregan can hardly believe his luck. You open up a little more every day, now you reach for his hand yourself, brush strands of hair from his face, kiss his cheek, lean into his embrace.

But suddenly you start to close yourself off again. It started with you not waiting for him in his chambers one evening, you send a servant to excuse you for that night. He thought you might be sick. But you don't come the next day either, he doesn't see you all day. In the morning he sees Silverwing flying over Winterfell towards the south, the sun is already hanging low on the horizon in the evening when the dragon lands again in front of the castle gates. Cregan feels like you're slipping away from him again. His heart aches at the thought. Did he do something wrong? Was he rude to you without realizing it? Was the longed-for closeness you built up just in his head?

Neverless Cregan was able, or rather you were able, to settle the arguments between the Lords a little. From your place at the high table, you reminded them in a gentel voice that everyone only wanted the best for the North and how wonderful it is that the Northern Lords were fighting the winter together. A little lie that you told, a smile and even Lord Bolton's tense features softened. It's a step in the right direction.

You hardly give him a smile anymore. Cregan doesn't know what's wrong. He is frustrated and sad. In his mind he goes through every moment, looking to see if he has done something wrong. He doesn´t find an answer.

His steps lead him through the corridors of Winterfell, he wants to go to Rickon. Because of all the work and his spiraling thoughts about you, he hasn't visited his son much in the last few days.

He hears laughter from the nursery, recognizes Lady Selina and Lady Aly's voices. Without knocking, he opens the door. The two ladies flinch at their place in front of the fireplace, the conversation falls silent. They both jump up, curtsy briefly and greet him with a "My Lord Stark." Both Ladys exchange a nervous look, Creggan's stomach tightens. He has the feeling that something is wrong but he doesn´t know what it is.

"Papa." Rickon jumps up from the carpet, his toy dragon falls to the floor and he runs to him. Cregan bends down to his son and takes him in his arms.

"Leave us alone," he dismisses the ladies. He wants to spend a little time with his son, show him that he is important to him despite all the stress. Rickon should never think that his father doesn't love him. Alys and Selina leave the nursery. Cregan puts Rickon down again and sits down on the floor next to him. Rickon immediately has his toy figures in his hand again.

"Are you coming to play?" he asks and holds out the dragon figure to him, big eyes sparkle at him and a radiant smile is on his lips.

"Yes." Cregan answers and takes the dragon, it looks small in his hand.

"That's my favorite toy."

"Not the knight anymore?" Cregan laughs quietly.

"No, no." says Rickon in a serious voice, as if it were the most important thing in the world. "The dragon. It was a gift from my princess."

Now Cregan can't hold back his laughter. "Your princess?"

"Yes." Rickon nods.

"You mean my wife, my dear. You really like her a lot, don't you?"

"Yes, I like her a lot." suddenly his eyes turn sad and he rips the toy out of his father's hand, pressing it to his chest. Cregan frowns, wants to scold Rickon, but he is already speaking again. "But she doesn't like me anymore." his voice trembles. Cregan has to swallow at the sight, puts a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Why do you think that? She likes you a lot."

"But why doesn't she play with me anymore? She hardly ever comes to visit me. Only when the teacher is there. She doesn't want to play with me at all, she just wants to supervise my lessons." he sounds defiant, as only children can, and Cregan has to sigh. He doesn´t have a answer for his son.

Why are you behaving like this? You wanted to take care of him and you enjoyed it. You often told him how much you enjoyed spending time with his son, what a good boy he is. That you love him like he is your son. Cregan has a bad feeling. He knows that something is wrong, even if he can't quite put his finger on it.

The door opens and you step uncertainly into the room, your gaze wanders around the room and then stops at Cregan and Rickon. A radiant smile appears on your face.

"My Lord husband." you say and nod slightly. Cregan is glad that you have finally stopped curtsying to him. "I didn't know you were here." Is he imagining it or do you sound relieved? Cregan doesn't know how to react to you now. Lately you have been acting absent and distant, shy like at the beginning. At other times you grab his hand, lean on his arm or smile at him with sparkling eyes when he speaks. He can't figure you out. "Can I sit with you?" you whisper, tearing him out of his thoughts. He nods and you sink down onto the carpet next to him and Rickon. His son immediately demands your attention, happy that you want to spend time with him.

It takes a few moments, but then Cregan lets himself be lulled by the warm, happy atmosphere. In these moments he completely forgets the thought of you withdrawing from him again. The time with his family is good for him, that is exactly what he always wanted. A happy family, safe behind the walls of Winterfell.

However his little bubble of family happiness bursts just a few hours later when Lady Darcy enters.

"My Lord Stark." she curtsies to him. "I'm here to pick up Rickon for his bath."

"No, I don't want to!" Rickon calls out. A single stern look from Cregan is enough to silence him. He stands up and takes a few steps towards Darcy. "Can my princess take me to my bath?" he asks quietly. Darcy rolls his eyes, looks at you, just like Cregan. You look at Dracy and then shake your head.

"Go with Lady Darcy." you say quietly, is your voice shaking? Rickon doesn't contradict and follows the nursemaid out of the room. Cregan turns to you with a smile, maybe you two can finally spend a little time toghether again, but you don't meet his gaze. When he reaches for your hand, you pull it away and jump up.

"Excuse me." your voice is quiet and you storm out of the room. Were those tears in your eyes? Cregan shakes his head, no, that can't be. The light was probably just reflected. He sighs and tries to fight down his anger and hurt because of your rejection.

He paces back and forth in his chambers. You haven't shown up for your evening meeting again. What's keeping you away? He just has to talk to you, he wants to find out what is bothering you. Did he make a mistake? Worry spreads through him and he sets off to look for you. His steps quickly lead him up the many stairs to Lady Stark's chambers.

Your chambers lie deserted before him. Cregans heart sinks. Where are you? It's almost midnight. You should be here. Did something happen to you? He is looking around your chambers. The chambers of Lady Stark are traditionally located at the top of the North Tower. They are the warmest chambers in the castle. Perfect for a dragon like you. Sweat beads on Cregan's forehead, yet he searches the chambers for a clue.

He feels guilty about looking at your private things, but he has no choice. Maybe you are in danger. Nothing seems unusual. To be honest, he can't be sure, he is hardly ever in your chambers. It is your private area, but it seems as if you only have a few things here. That surprises Cregan a little.

He goes to your desk, it is covered with papers, scrolls and letters. He knows that you write a lot to your family, and that you receive a letter from at least one of your family members almost every week. Only your father doesn't write to you, you told him that.

His gaze flicks over the first line of the letter you had started.

Mother, please. It's so terrible here.

He reads the first words and his heart aches painfully. Is it his fault? Do you hate him?

My husband Cregan is everything I could wish for, kind, tender, and warm; he has such a big heart. I love him. But the problem are the maids of the late Lady Stak. I wrote to you that it doesn't seem like they like me. But now it's getting worse.

I tried to take care of Rickon. Just like you always took care of Baela, Rhena, and me. He is such a sweet boy. But the Ladies are so terribly mean. I know they were Lady Norrey's friends, but I don't understand how they can be so horrible. What did I do wrong? I don't understand how I could have upset them so much that they hate me.

They say terrible things to me, I don't want to repeat them. Even bad things about our family. The insults hurt so much. The worst thing is when they laugh at me. I feel so stupid when they do that.

I don't want Rickon to find out about this, so I stay away from him. It breaks my heart. I'm afraid to talk to Cregan. I don't want them to lose their last connection to Lady Arra.

Please, I can't take it anymore. I want to go home. Please let me come home.

On the pages, there are small dark spots where your tears have dripped onto the paper and smudged the ink.

Why didn't you tell him anything? Guilt overcomes him. He should have known, he should have noticed something.

Hot anger towards the Ladies rises within him. He would love to have them all executed.

A growl catches his attention. With two steps, he is at the window. The full moon illuminates the night outside, the snow reflects the light. He sees a slender figure walking across the fields outside the Keep. Silverswing's massive body rises from the snow as you run towards your dragon.

Cregan whirls around and sprints down the stairs. Fear and worry burn in his heart. He pushes the door outward a little too hard. The wood creaks as it slams against the stone walls. Every breath burns in his lungs as he inhales the cold air. Nevertheless, his steps do not slow down.

Silverwing whirls her head around before you notice him. At the sudden movement, you slip and one of the bags you were just about to attach to the saddle falls from your hand. A few of your clothes fall into the snow. Cregan realizes that you really were about to run away. Run away from him. His heart hurts by this thought. The next moment he remembers himself that you are not running away because of him.

He calls your name. You whirl around, your look like a startled deer.

"Cregan." you whisper. He recognizes tears in your eyes, tear stains on your cheeks, your eyes are slightly red

"What are you doing?" he asks, while he tries to catch his breath. Cregan tries to let his voice sound as soft as possible, you already look like you will faint for fear every moment.

"I wanted to visit Silverwing," you lie, your hands cramps around the leather of the saddle. Silverwing lets out a growl. Cregan needs all his strength not to jump back in fright.

"Please come down." he almost begs, he stands much too close to the dragon for his liking. Silverwing is very gentle. You once told him that. Nevertheless, the hundred-year-old monster can swallow him in one gulp.

You hesitate. "Go back inside," you say then, but you don't look at him.

"No." his voice is firm now. "Either you come down voluntarily or I'll come up and get you." it's not a bluff, if he has to he'll climb on that dragon to get you down. Even if Silverwing will probably tear him into pieces before he even gets close to you.

Silverwing stretches out her wing, the claws on her forefoot digging into the snow just a few steps in front of him. Is that a threat? You look at your dragon, then swing to the side and slide down the wing. Without thinking, Cregan moves closer and catches you. You wrap your arms around him and he pulls you closer to him. Warm tears drip onto the skin at the crook of his neck. You sob, take a breath and try to say something, but only another desperate sound comes from your throat.

"I found your letter to the Queen." he admits. You tense up, wanting to pull away from him, but Cregan holds you tight. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't want you to be angry."

Oh he is angry, but not at you. He would love to cut off the ladies' heads, but women are not executed in the North. The North is still a place of honor.

Now he lets go of you, pushes away slightly to look you in the face. He carefully wipes the tears from your cheek. You lean into his touch, sighs quietly and closes your eyes. Cregan leans forward and kisses your forehead.

"What did they say to you?" he then whispers.

You swallow, open your eyes before you start to speak. "At first it was just little taunts. But over time it got worse and worse. They said I would ruin the North, that many people would die next winter because of my stupidity." the tears come back to you eyes and you have to sob. Cregan pulls you into his arms again, strokes your hair as you bury your face in his chest.

"Those are lies. You did nothing wrong. On the contrary, you are a great Lady Stark."

"But that wasn't even the worst part. They also said that I am not good enough for you. That you only put up with me because you were forced to marry me. They said that you will never love me and that there is only room in your heart for Lady Arra, that she is your first and only love and I am just an intruder."

Cregan's heart breaks, he knows that you took the Nursemaids at their word. Again he pushes you away, carefully puts his hand under your chin and forces you to look at him.

"Those are lies too. Yes, I loved Arra. But that doesn't mean that I can't love you. You are not an intruder. I want you here with me."

Tears well up in your eyes again. "What about the Ladies?" you ask quietly, but keep eye contact.

"I will throw all three of them out first thing tomorrow morning. Let the Others get them, I don't care. Maybe Silverwing wants a little snack."

The dragon lowers its head to you, looks at Cregan as if she agrees.

"Rickon needs them."

"No. Rickon only needs me and you, his family." Cregan insists. His son will cope with the loss, he is sure of that.

"I would like to be your family."

Cregan has to smile at your words. "I love you, sweet wife." he whispers. Your lips open slightly as you look at him in surprise. Then you stand on your tiptoes and kiss him gently. His heart almost burst, butterflies explode in his stomach and despite the cold night he feels warm.

You sink back on your feet, your cheeks are red, but you smile. Silverwing blows hot air from her nostrils towards Cregan, he flinches back and you giggle.

"That means she likes you."

"And what about you? Do you like me too?" he asks, his lips twisting into a grin.

"I thought you read my letter to Rhaenyra." you say, also grinning."

Please say it anyway."

"I love you, my sweet husband." Cregan leans down and seals your lips with a kiss.

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