#but she was a stark of winterfell and she cared and i’m going through it again

[dragonseeds]

the thing about winter is coming/the north remembers, the magic of it all, and the starks being raised with this sense of duty to protect their people is that thinking of it always makes me think of lyanna and howland reed and the story that started with them at harrenhal and ended in a tower in the red mountains. she protected him—beat a bunch of squires off of him, cleaned his wounds, talked him into feasting with them without thinking for a second that he was beneath her (and she found clothes for him so he wouldn’t be out of place), disguised herself as a knight and risked her life and reputation to enter a tourney (though of course she must have thought it was a laugh since… yeah) to fight and actually beat the knights who taught their squires to behave so dishonorably when he couldn’t do it himself—because aside from being the right thing to do, it was her duty as a stark to do it. (why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can’t protect themselves? / justice… that’s what kings are for) and it touched him so deeply that he went all the way to dorne for her, lied for her, protected her brother and her son, made her into a story he told his children. he remembers her.

[entitled-fangirl]

Lord and Lady.

Cregan Stark x reader

Summary: the reader is feeling sick, and Cregan gets worried.

Warnings: illness, slight talk of vomit

A/n: sorry I’ve disappeared off the face of the earth for a minute- but I’m back!!! And with HOTD shit!!!!

Masterlist

…………………………………

Y/n peeked open her eyes that were previously crusted with sleep hurriedly.

She stared at the ceiling for moment to gather herself before beginning to peel the heavy furs from herself.

She heard a deep groan and the arm that had went unnoticed around her waist pulled her back to her original position and the matching deep voice came soon after on her ear, "and where are you going?"

"Cregan, please." Her hand moved to her husband's, digging her fingers in between his hand and her waist, prying him from her. She began to get up once more.

Usually she would enjoy his touch. But for some reason, today was different.

She pulled back the furs again, faster this time and pulled herself to the edge of their shared bed.

Cregan's hand shot out as he forced his eyes to open. His finger tips barely grazed her wrist. Something was clearly wrong with her as she seemed to not even notice his persistence.

She grabbed a cloak, not caring whose or how it looked before wrapping it around her nightgown and rushing from the room.

Cregan sat up. He was so unused to not knowing what was happening in his own home that he hated it. Cregan Stark hated not knowing.

He called after her, "love?" When no answer came, he sighed lightly and pulled himself from the blankets as well, caring less for the loss of warmth that passed by the second. He grabbed a cloak as well and ran after her.

The Lady of Winterfell practically ran through the corridors. She would've if she had felt better.

She passed by two guards that were patrolling, one of them stepping to her. "My Lady, are you in need of assistance?" He seemed concerned that she was without guard at this early hour and in such a rush. Winterfell had grown to adore the girl, and would hate to see something happen to her.

"No. No, I'm quite well. Please, do not stop on my account," she called after him, not even stopping the brisk pace.

The two guards looked at each other with a sigh. Even married-in Starks were stubborn it seemed.

But as she turned the corner of the corridor, Cregan appeared on the other side. He was a bit out of breath and his head was on a constant swivel. He didn't think his wife would be such a quick thing.

The guards bowed their heads. "Lord Stark," one greeted. Cregan paused in his step. He looked down the hall, having the instinct to continue his path. He turned his gaze to them and pointed down the hall with a quirked brow. It was a silent question.

The second guard nodded.

That was enough for Cregan.

He continued his quick strides again, not caring for formalities.

…

Cregan opened the door to the Maester's quarters with a furrowed brow.

His darling wife sat in the older man's quarters, her legs curled up in the wooden chair next the table comfortably.

The great and terrifying Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North was a bit dumbfounded.

The maester turned to him with a smile, "Lord Stark, how good to see you. I do hope you are feeling well."

Cregan's eyes darted between the maester and the woman.

Y/n stood with a soft breath. "Perhaps we should just go to bed, Cregan."

The maester spoke up, "Rest, my Lady. I'll have the drought sent when it's finished."

She nodded and thanked him quietly before walking out, expecting Cregan to follow.

Instead, he stood there in a confused daze.

The maester tilted his head, "My Lord? Is there anything I may help you with?"

He shook his head and brought his hand to his forehead, trying to rub the ever-growing crease from it. "No. Thank you." He moved to turn away before pausing, "Is she alright?"

The older man nodded, "She will be."

He nodded as well, "Thank you."

…

When he returned to their room, Y/n was curled into one of the chairs by their fireplace, a large fur draped over her and a book in her hand.

Cregan would've smiled at the sight if he had not been so worried.

And now, he was able to take a good look at his wife. He hadn't noticed the light gleam of sweat on her brow, or the tangled mess of her hair. Her face had lost a bit of its color and her eyes looked dull. She really wasn't feeling well.

He approached her, taking the book from her hands and kneeling on the ground in front of her.

Her voice was soft, "'m sorry."

He managed a light chuckle. "For what?"

"I don't feel like myself."

"I don't see how that's your fault."

"But I've worried you," she tried to reason.

He placed his hands on her thighs as he leaned forward. "Look at me."

Her eyes wandered up slowly to his face.

"You feel unwell. That is not a fault. It passes." He leaned back on his heels, "I only wish you would've said something to me."

"I was worried I wouldn't keep everything down if I did."

Ah. There it was. "Oh. I understand. And are you feeling better now?"

She nodded, "starting to."

"I'll have the cook bring something up."

Her hand brushed his, "I am not ready for that yet."

He smiled and brushed a piece of hair from her face with his free hand. "Not ready to be alive at all yet?"

"Not at all," she chuckled.

"Very well," he stands and moves to the door, peeking out and muttering something to the guard there. When he returns to her, he holds his hands out for her to take.

She does so with a furrowed brow. "What have you done?"

His smile grows, "There is no Lord and Lady of Winterfell today." He pulls her to his chest and buries his face in her hair, "Perhaps today, we shall be mere maggots that rot away in here until tomorrow."

She hums against his chest, "That sounds lovely."

He kissed her forehead and pulled her towards the bed.

“I don’t wish to make you ill as well, Cregan.”

He laughed at that, “Love, I am Northern. It takes much to get me down.”

She smiled back at him.

The two spent the day as he promised, in bed, in each other's company, and away from the demands their life brought them.

And although the two knew that tomorrow would bring the demands back all the same, they enjoyed what they had until then.

……………………………….

[fantasydreamland]

Betrothed

cragen stark x fem tully reader x aemond targaryen

Summary: You have been betrothed to Cragen Stark since you were children and grew up in the North preparing for the day you would become the lady of the Winterfell. Your entire world changes when your parents decide to wed you to the cold prince Aemond Targaryen instead. When the war begins everything changes once again and you eventually find your rightful place.

Notes: 18+ ONLY!!! Smut, angst, fluff, p in v, loss of virginity, some spoilers

Word count: 5580

x thank you so much for this request x

Mini sequel - Mine

masterlist

You have been betrothed to Cragen Stark since you were children and grew up in the North preparing for the day you would become the lady of the Winterfell. Your parents visited often but remained occupied in the Riverlands.

Along the way, you and Cregan fell in love though neither of you would speak of it. Although you were to be wed, you were both shy about your feelings towards each other.

One day your mother and father return to Winterfell to visit and you greet them excitedly.

“There is a reason to our visit.” Your father says sternly as you hug your mother.

Your smile fades and they lead you to private room to speak. Your father explains that there was an offer from King Viserys to wed you to Prince Aemond Targaryen.

“What?!” You yell. “Absolutely not. Tell them no. I am to marry Cregan soon. That has always been the plan.”

“We have already agreed.” Your father states.

“You cannot marry me to that cold evil prince!” You raise your voice again in panic.

“Prince Aemond is an excellent match, my dear.” Your mother says, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“But I am to be lady of Winterfell! That is what I have been preparing for my entire life!”

“Well, now you will be a princess of the realm.” Your mother says.

“I do not care to be a princess!” Tears begin to fill your eyes. “What about Cregan? We have been betrothed our entire lives. He is the sweetest man I have ever known and now you are going to ship me away from him… away from you.”

“We would join you if we could, my dear.” Your mother says softly.

“But as you know we have a duty to the Riverlands. We cannot always choose our duties in life.”

“But father please-“

“There is no negotiating.” Your father speaks over you. “We have already promised the king. You should be grateful to earn such a title.”

“…When?” Was the only word you could choke out through your increasing tears.

“We will escort you there tomorrow.” Your father says.

“Tomorrow?!” You cry. “That is hardly any time at all!”

“Your mother and I need to return to Riverrun, we have no time to delay. I suggest you begin packing.” Without another word, your father storms out of the room.

“I’m sorry dear…” Your mother whispers to you as she follows behind him.

You collapse to the floor in tears. It feels like your entire world just went up in flames. You did not want to live in Kings Landing, you wanted to stay right here in the snowy North you had grown to love. You did not want to marry the prince, you wanted to marry Cregan who you had also grown to love.

‘Oh Cregan…’ You think. Breaking this news to him would be heartbreaking.

You pick yourself up off the floor and take deep breaths to steady your still shaky breathing. Once you have composed yourself you rush to find Cregan.

Cregan was standing alone in the Godswood looking to the tree before he turns and spots you approaching with a red nose and puffy eyes.

“What is wrong (y/n)?” He asks concerned.

You throw your arms around him and begin to sob again. He hugs you tightly as your tears dampen his fur cloak.

“Shh, it’s ok.” He pets your hair, causing you to cry harder, his tenderness being a reminder of what you would lose soon. “Tell me what is going on.”

“I h-have t-to leave.” You choke out before you begin crying again.

“What do you mean you have to leave?” Cregan pulls back to cup your cheek and look into your eyes.

“My father- he…” You can barely get words out between sobs.

“Take a deep breath darling. You’re ok.”

You do as he says and take a deep shaky breath before continuing.

“He is marrying me to prince Aemond. We leave tomorrow.”

You bury your face back into his furs as you cry harder. He hugs you tighter than he ever has and for a moment does not say a word. The shock of everything fogging his thoughts.

“Please say something…” you whisper.

“How is this possible?” He finally speaks.

“I do not know…” You sniffle as you lift your head. “But my father said it is already decided.”

“But…” He cups both your cheeks in his hands and looks into your eyes with intensity you have never seen from him. “I can not lose you… I- I love you.”

“Cregan…”

Before you can respond he crashes his lips against yours. You kiss him back with all your passion. The kiss is filled with so many unspoken feelings between you. You had dreamt about kissing him many times before but never in sad circumstances like this. You continue to kiss each other like it is your last day in this world. Which for you, it would be your last day in his world. Your lips finally part and you can see tears in Cregans eyes.

“I am so sorry, my love…” You whisper.

Cregan kisses your forehead and takes your hands before placing a kiss on each of them.

“He better treat you how you deserve. Because… you deserve the world (y/n).” Cregan chokes back tears as he speaks.

“You are my world…” You whisper, looking deep into his grey eyes.

“And you are mine…” He whispers back before pressing his forehead to yours and sighing.

You could not bear another minute of this heart shattering goodbye so you excuse yourself to pack for the trip. Tears stream down your face as you organize your belongings. Sitting on your dresser was a beautiful wooden horse your father gave you the day you arrived at Winterfell.

You run your fingers along it, remembering your excitement when you saw snow for the very first time. Your father had said it was to remember that although they were in Riverun they would always be by your side to support you in the North. You scoff at the thought of your father’s words and chuck the wooden horse into the fire.

You did not leave your room the rest of the day as you finished packing. You had no appetite at all and could not bear to see Cregan or anyone else for that matter. After sobbing in bed for most of the night, sleep finally pulls you under.

**********

The next morning your things are being loaded onto the carriage. The snow fell gently, snowflakes landing and melting in your red hair, for the last time. You spot Cregan coming to wish you farewell. You run over to him and he wraps you in a tight hug. You both remain there for a long moment, not wanting to let go. He knew once he let you out of his arms you would be gone for good.

“I do not wish to speak the words since I am leaving… but you know my feelings for you.” You sniffle against his shoulder.

“I know…” He says as you finally part. “Me too.”

Cregan held back the tears in his eyes while yours streamed freely down your face. He holds your hands in his and places a final kiss to your forehead.

“Farewell, (y/n).” He says quietly. “I wish you good luck.”

“Farewell, Cregan.” You sniffle, barely holding back from bursting into tears again.

As your hands slowly part you could literally feel him slip away from you. You rushed into the carriage, choking back sobs. As the carriage takes off you stare through the window having one last glance at Cregan, one last moment admiring the beautiful white snow, one last moment in Winterfell. You watch as everything you have grown to love fades into the distance.

The ride is long, and silent, your parents barely speak a word and you were constantly focused on keeping yourself from crying. When you reached a far enough distance the air becomes warmer, forcing you to finally take off your favourite furs made for a lady of the North. After an agonizing few weeks of travel you finally reach Kings Landing.

**********

You follow behind your parents as a guard leads you to the throne room where the king and his family await.

“Lord and Lady Tully.” The guard announces your arrival. “And their daughter, (y/n) Tully.”

You greet the king as he welcomes you and your family. Your eyes meet Aemonds as he stares you down, his face cold and unreadable. He was even more handsome than you could have imagined. You break the eye contact with the one-eyed prince and look down nervously.

The guard escorts you to your new chambers and leads your parents off to their guest room for the night. You did not want to see or speak to them ever again. When the guard returns to escort you to dinner you refuse despite his insistence. You knew it would be taken as an insult to the king but you did not care. You hoped it may even encourage him to deem you unworthy of the prince and send you back home.

Not long after someone bangs at your door, startling you. You approach the door and cautiously open it to see Aemond holding a plate of food.

“It is a great insult to refuse the kings welcome feast.” He says as he pushes past you and lets himself in.

You scoff as he places the food on the small table in your room.

“Forgive me for insulting the king, my prince. I did not have much of an appetite.” You say firmly. “And frankly, I do not care to see my parents again before they abandon me here.”

“You need to eat.” He says in a stern tone.

“What I need is to go home.” You snap back.

“This is your home now.” He states, unphased by your attitude.

You simply huff and cross your arms.

“You need to eat.” He repeats. “I know that you must be hungry by now.”

“I’m fine.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs before heading toward the door. “Goodnight, Lady (y/n).”

He bows slightly before closing the door behind him. You stand there with your arms still crossed before your stomach starts to grumble. You sigh as you sit down and tuck into your food, silently grateful he brought it to you.

You change out of your dress before curling up into the large canopy bed with red and golden curtains. You felt like a trapped bird in a royal golden cage. Your thoughts swirl around in your mind like a tornado. Your entire world has been flipped upside down in the matter of weeks. Everything you had envisioned for your life has just gone up into flames. Now you were stuck here with these strangers, forced to marry a man you did not know or want. You sob into your pillow until exhaustion finally drags you into a restless slumber.

**********

The next morning you sleep in and take your time dressing. You had no intention on intending breakfast either and having to see your parents before they depart. Once you’re dressed you sit at the vanity and brush your hair in the mirror. Suddenly, there is a loud knock on the door.

“Come in.” You call, placing your brush down.

The door opens and Aemond appears with a plate of breakfast food. He walks over and places it on the same table as before.

“I assumed you would not be at breakfast with your parents in attendance.” He says flatly. “But you should eat.”

He says nothing else as he turns to leave.

“Thank you.” You say as he goes to close the door.

“Mhm.” He nods, turning his head to look at you before exiting and shutting the door behind him.

You sit down to the plate full of a variety of foods from the breakfast table. His caring gesture felt so confusing when he acts so cold towards you.

**********

You finish doing your hair before looking through the small bookshelf in the corner of your room. Most books seemed to be about boring histories until you find a book about dragons. You pull it from the shelf and spend the rest of your day reading through it. You had never even seen a dragon but now you were about to marry someone who has the biggest one in the world.

That evening you plucked up the courage to attend dinner. You would at least not have to see your family anymore but you worried for how the this family would treat you, especially with how you had isolated yourself away from them.

The guard leads you to the dining hall where the royal family were seated for dinner. You were surprised by the warm welcome as the king offers you a seat. You did not say much as you ate looking down at your plate. The light conversation was mainly between the king and queen. Aemond sat across from you and kept his eye on you the entire time.

When supper was finished Aemond offers to escort you back to your chambers. You say goodnight to everyone before taking his arm. The air was tense as you walked down the halls in silence.

“I would like to take you on a walk through the gardens tomorrow.” Aemond says once you reach your chamber, the offer catching you off guard.

“I… um, I’m not sure.” You respond looking down.

Aemond lightly lifts your chin with his finger, making your eyes meet his. The contact made your heart race before he casually drops his hand back down.

“You must be bored remaining alone in your bedroom.” He questions.

“No.” You scoff. “There are plenty of books to keep me occupied.”

“What are you reading?” He raises a brow.

“Why do you care?” You glare at him.

He simply shrugs and slightly smirks at your attitude.

“I am not sure the title… it’s just a book about dragons. I thought it sounded interesting.” You shrug.

“Have you ever seen a dragon?” His smirk grows.

“No…”

“Would you like to?”

“I am stuck here in Kings Landing for the rest of my life… I am sure I will see one sometime.” You cross your arms.

“I have a better idea than a walk in the gardens. I will meet you here midday tomorrow.”

“But-“ You begin.

“Goodnight, Lady (y/n).” He says over you as he bows and leaves you.

“Goodnight, Prince Aemond.” You say under your breath once he’s out of ear shot.

**********

The next morning you attend a quiet breakfast. You pretend not to notice Aemond observing you the entire time. Midday you are reading in your chambers when there is a knock at the door. You answer the door to Aemond, as expected.

“Ready?” He asks.

“For what? You never told me where we are going.”

He lightly chuckles, the first time you have heard him laugh, and offers his arm. Without further questions you take his arm as he leads you through the castle.

You follow him into the dragon pit. You stop in your tracks when a gigantic dragon comes into your sight.

“There is no need to be afraid. She will not harm you unless I command it.” Aemond reassures you.

“And what if you did command it?” You question.

“Then you would be a pile of ash.” He smirks. “Lucky for you, I would not want to destroy such beauty.”

You blush at his response. He was acting so differently than the coldness you expected.

“Here.” He offers his hand to you.

You place your hand in his and feel instant sparks as he looks into your eyes, clearly feeling it too. He clears his throat before leading you over to Vhagar and moving your hand up to stroke her. She grumbles which startles you and you feel Aemond chuckle again behind you. He slowly removes his hand from yours as you continue to pet Vhagar.

“She seems to like you.” He says. “And she does not like anyone.”

You smile to him and see a rare smile on his lips. Not a smirk, a genuine smile.

“Would you like to go for a ride?” He asks.

You look to him with shock in your eyes as you contemplate the question. The idea terrified yet excited you. Not many people get the chance to ride a dragon in their lives and you could not pretend like you have not dreamt of it before.

Aemond seems surprised when you agree and then a wide grin spreads across his face.

“Very well.” He smiles.

You watch as he climbs atop Vhagar before reaching his hand to you, gesturing to climb up. You pull yourself up the ropes before grabbing Aemonds hand. He hoists you the rest of the way so you are sitting behind him. You were certain he could feel your heart beating rapidly against his back.

“Hold on tight.” He smirks.

You wrap your arms tightly around him, your body pressing up against his. The heat in your cheeks rise as you realize this is the closest you have been to him.

You don’t have time to dwell on the thought as Vhagar begins to walk out of the dragon pit before taking off. Your breath catches as you are lifted up into the sky. You close your eyes and squeeze Aemond so tight you were surprised he could still breathe.

“Open your eyes.” Aemond says, somehow knowing you closed them.

You open your eyes and for a brief moment you worry you had fallen off the dragon and died. The way you soared above the clouds was a sight of the heavens. After that you don’t shut your eyes for another second, taking in the sky around you and the lands below you. Aemond circles back around and you squeeze him tight again as he begins to descend. Once you’ve reached the dragon pit Aemond jumps off and helps you down off Vhagar.

“How did you enjoy your first dragon ride?” He smiles to you.

“I- I- I am hardly ever speechless.” You say with a beaming smile. “That was indescribable.”

Aemonds smile remains as he kisses your hand. You gaze into each others eyes for a long moment before you lean forward and place a soft kiss to his lips. He smirks to you before taking your hand again and leading you out of the dragon pit.

You and Aemond were both more lively at supper than usual, talking of the dragon ride you went for earlier. Once the meal is finished Aemond escorts you to your chambers for the night.

“I had a wonderful time with you today.” You say to Aemond as you walk down the halls. “That was honestly the first time I have felt true happiness since being here.”

“I am glad. I quite enjoy your company here. So I hope I can continue to make you happy.” Aemond responds.

“Well, now you have the rest of our lives to do so.” You playfully nudge him, making him smirk.

Once you reach your chambers you look to Aemond.

“Thank you, my prince. For everything.” You think back to the meals he first brought you when you refused to leave your room.

“Of course, my lady… Soon to be, my princess.” He takes your hand to kiss.

You gaze into his eyes with a heartfelt smile. He smiles back at you before leaning forward to place a chaste kiss to your lips. When your eyes meet again there is a strange tension in the air. You watch him glance to your lips again before he suddenly cups your cheeks and brings your lips back to his. The kiss quickly turns heated as you wrap your arms around his neck and his tongue dips into your mouth. Your heart races against your chest as he grabs your waist and pulls you closer against him. The desire between you both is electric. He pushes you up against the wall and you feel his hardness press against your hip, making you gasp into his mouth.

When your lips part you feel yourself almost lean back in, like a moth to a flame. You look at each other with wild eyes as you catch your breath.

“Goodnight, my lady.” Aemond places a kiss to your cheek.

“Goodnight, my prince.” You say bashfully.

Once you enter your chambers you let out a heavy breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. You get ready for bed, your thoughts full of Aemond. You did not expect to develop any feelings in this new marriage but now he was all you could think about. The fire between you was indescribable. You fall into a peaceful sleep as you begin to imagine your wedding and future to come.

**********

The next day everything changes. King Viserys passed away overnight. All the small folk are gathered to witness Aegon being crowned as the new king. Your family had pledged fealty to Rhaenyra when she was first crowned heir. You panic and worry for what may come from the throne being usurped.

The next few days pass by in a blur. You hardly saw Aemond and when you did there was never private moments to talk. He even stopped escorting you from meals. You could tell it pained him greatly but he could not find the time right now with everything going on.

One night a knock on your door startles you awake. You rush over, hoping to find Aemond on the other side. Your face drops with disappointment when instead you find a guard standing there.

“What is it?” You ask sleepily.

“Please keep your voice down my lady.” He says as he hands you a hooded cloak, making you arch your brow at him. “Your parents received a raven regarding this treachery. They asked I bring you home.”

“Home? What are you talking about? This is my home now... And why would they ask a gold cloak to take me away from kings landing? Why would you agree?” You babble.

“I will explain everything on our way to Winterfell. Please, my lady. We haven’t much time.” He says, peering over his shoulder.

“I would need to collect my things…” Your brain was hazy from sleep trying to comprehend what was happening.

“There is no time, my lady. Please, we need to leave now.” He begins to panic.

With no time to give it thought, you simply nod and put on the cloak to hide your vibrant red hair. He leads you cautiously through the castle through hidden passages you had never known were there. Eventually they lead you to the streets of Kings Landing. There was a carriage waiting for you just outside the city gates.

Once you are on the road you finally have a moment to process your thoughts. Your heart sinks and your stomach twists at the thought of Aemond discovering your disappearance. Tears run down your face at the thought. You did not want to leave Kings Landing, you did not want to leave him.

The next weeks of traveling was even more dreadful than when you were going to Kings Landing. Multiple times you considered jumping out of the carriage and running back to the Red Keep.

You could hardly eat with your stomach in knots. Aemond blurred all of your thoughts. All you could think of was him. The intense kisses you shared, the amazing dragon ride, his acts of kindness. It broke your heart to imagine how much you must have hurt him by leaving. You had disappeared in the middle of the night, leaving all your things behind. You worried how he would think you chose to abandon him, or worse, think you had been stolen in the night. Which in a way, you had been.

You begin to shiver as you get closer to Winterfell, the air getting colder. The guard notices and pulls a fur cloak out of a small chest inside the carriage. You wrap it tightly around you and try to steady your nerves.

“We should be there soon.” He says.

You simply nod and rest your eyes. The next time you open your eyes the carriage comes to a halt.

“Are we here?” You shoot up.

The guard nods and opens the door. You’re instantly blinded by the white of the snow. Your eyes adjust to see your parents waiting for you. You simply glare at them before your eyes land on Cregan and your expression softens. You had been so worried about Aemond that seeing Cregan nearly slipped your mind entirely.

You jump out of the carriage and do not hesitate to throw yourself in his arms. He hugs you back tightly and pats your hair.

“I thought I would never see you again.” He whispers in your ear.

You nod as the tears start again. You part and he wipes them from your face. You softly smile at him and he kisses your forehead.

“My darling, we are so glad you are safe.” Your mother interrupts to hug you.

“As soon as we heard Aegon was usurping the throne we knew we had to bring you home.” Your father says.

“Yes, thank you.” You say dryly. Your father goes to respond but you cut him off. “Thank you for dragging me away from my home, my life, everyone I have ever known. Then, deciding to bring me back and steal me away in the night. I am not sure the royals even know where I am.”

“We made them aware once you were a safe enough distance that they could not go after you.” He responds.

“Now you no longer have to marry that ‘cold prince’.” Your mother quotes your words from when you were leaving.

You think to Aemond finding out they had taken you back to Winterfell.

“Do you not think they will come after us? After me? They have dragons.” You cross your arms.

Part of you feared Aemond would come for you and steal you away. Another part of you hoped he would.

“They are far too busy with the coming war to worry about a stolen bride.” Your father says.

“That is all I have ever been to you, huh? A bride to be sold off to whichever family benefits you most.”

Before your father can respond you stomp off to the castle.

**********

You make your way to your previous bedroom, relieved to see it remains the same as you had left it. You sit down on the bed and cry into your hands. A knock at the door interrupts your sobs.

“Come.” You call dryly, assuming it was your parents.

Cregan cautiously opens the door and you stand from your bed.

“Cregan…” You say as you walk over to him. “I am so glad you are here.”

Cregan boldly closes the distance between you and pulls you into a searing kiss. All of the feelings you have for him come flooding back as you kiss him back passionately.

“(Y/n)… I have been so lost without you.” Cregan says lowly. “I feel like the luckiest man alive to have you in my arms again.”

“I missed you too.” You whisper as you rest your foreheads against each other.

He kisses you again, this time lifting you up and walking you over to the bed.

“My love… I don’t know if I can wait for our wedding night to have you.” He says as he puts you back down. “You are all I have been able to think about since the moment you left.”

You meet his eyes and they’re filled with so many emotions. Heartbreak, sadness, worry, relief, desire, love. You gaze back at him with the same feelings in your eyes.

“Then don’t.” You whisper.

Without hesitation, he kisses you again before moving his lips to your neck causing a small whimper to escape you. You tug at his cloak until it drops to the floor and he moves to push yours off your shoulders. You begin to underdress each other layer by layer, stealing hungry kisses in between. When Cregans upper half is finally exposed you run your fingers down his toned stomach. He moves his hands along the curves your body as you stand in nothing but your shift. You step back slightly and he watches as you slowly lift the thin dress over your head.

“You are so beautiful.” Cregan whispers before capturing your lips again.

You crawl into bed and watch as he unties the strings of his pants and they drop to the floor. Your eyes widen at his hardened length on display. When your eyes dart back up to his there’s a fire that lights within you both. He crawls on top of you before taking your breast in his mouth as his hand massages the other. You squirm underneath him as your hands move to his hair. His lips make their way back up to your neck.

“I love you (y/n).” He says lowly in your ear.

“I love you, Cregan.” You breathe.

His eyes meet yours and he smiles down at you with pure adoration.

“Are you certain about this, my love? We can wait until we are wed…” He asks, though you can tell there is only one answer he is hoping to hear.

You nod and kiss his lips. He dips his tongue into your mouth as he lines himself up to your entrance. You wince in pain as he slowly pushes into you. He moves slowly to give you time to adjust but also because he was barely holding it together. The feeling of you wrapped tightly around him made his head spin.

The pain soon begins to fade and you crave more of him. Something overcomes you as you move to push him onto his back and climb on top of him. He looks at you with wide eyes as you begin rocking your hips against his. You grind against his length and it sends sparks through your entire body. Cregan quickly closes his eyes, the sight of you above him as pleasured moans begin to pour from your mouth had him barreling towards his release.

“My love, please…” Cregan breathes. “I’m not going to last much longer if you continue to do that.”

You smirk down at him and watch a small gasp escape him as you line him up to your entrance and begin to slide down onto his cock.

You moan louder and have to remind yourself to be quiet, you two were not really supposed to be doing this before you are wed. His choked out moans as you ride him makes the knot in your stomach tighten more and more. You cry out his name and before you could even comprehend what was happening your entire body feels like it lit up in flames. Your vision goes black and pleasure clouds your mind. Cregan finally opens his eyes and watches you as you come undone around him. The sight of you instantly triggers his release and he groans out as his fingers dig into your hips and he comes deep inside you.

You collapse onto the bed beside him and you both lay there panting. Cregan pulls you in close and wraps his arms around you. You nuzzle your face into his neck as you hug him back.

“I feel like I’m dreaming, I just cannot believe I am holding you in my arms right now.” Cregan says softly. “Please promise me this is not a dream. Promise me you are real.”

You move your head to meet his gaze. Your hand comes up to cup his cheek as you smile warmly at him.

“I promise you this is real. I’m real.” You say before placing a kiss to his lips.

“I hope so.” He smiles warmly back at you as he lightly strokes your hand on his face.

**********

The next few days are busy with wedding preparations as your parents did not want to waste any time. You spend most of your time with Cregan, chatting away like you used to and stealing private kisses in between.

The day of your wedding was quick to come. You were filled with excitement and nerves as you put on the last of your furs.

Snow gently falls from the sky as Cregan comes into your view. You smile to each other as you walk down the snowy isle. He takes your hand in his and the ceremony begins.

“She is mine and I am hers. From this day, until the end of my days”

“He is mine and I am his. From this day, until the end of my days” You recite together as you gaze deeply into each others eyes.

You seal your marriage with a kiss. Cregan holds your hand up to the crowd and they cheer for you both. As you smile widely to the crowd, the thought of Aemond crosses your mind and there’s a pang in your chest. You push the thought away and try to focus on the present moment. Standing side by side with Cregan, whom you loved deeply, you looked like the true lady of the North that you were always meant to be.

[novaursa]

You are an absolutely amazing writer and I adore all your stories.

If your requests for short stories are still open, I would like to request one with Cregan Stark and Targaryen reader where she is pregnant with their first child and gets jealous because Cregan is being secretive and she catches him few times talking to some of his closest men and mentioning an unknown female name. One day she can't take it anymore and confronts him. It turns out he found injured pregnant female direwolf and was taking care of her and her pups which he wants to gift to their child. (It would be fun if reader has already dragon but bonds with direwolf mom as well).

Daisy

Requests are closed!

- Summary: Heavy with your and Cregan’s first child, you get suspicious when your husband starts to sneak out to see Daisy. 

- Paring: targ!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: The reader is bonded with Silverwing. For more of my works, visit my blog. The first list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess

You pace back and forth, hands resting on the swell of your belly, anxiety bubbling like a cauldron on a fire. Your gaze drifts to the furs on the floor of your chambers, the large bed that feels far too empty most nights as of late, and the flickering light of the hearth that does little to soothe the unease gnawing at your mind. Cregan has been… distracted. He leaves early in the morning, returns late, his excuses as thin as the northern air.

And Daisy.

You’ve overheard him whispering that name, hushed and guarded, always to his most trusted men. Every time you approach, the conversation stops abruptly, like the snap of a trap. It's enough to make any woman suspicious—especially a woman heavy with child, swollen with not only your firstborn but a mix of anticipation, anxiety, and perhaps a bit of jealousy.

"Silverwing," you murmur, glancing toward the small window. Though your beloved dragon isn't visible from the Keep, you know she’s nearby, perched on the cliffs, her silver scales glinting in the pale sun. "Do you know what he’s up to?" But if she does, she offers no response.

You frown. Even your dragon seems to be in on this secret. Traitor.

Another morning arrives, and Cregan departs before dawn breaks. The soft murmur of his voice filters through the stone walls as he speaks to his men again, and you catch it—Daisy.

That’s it. You’ve had enough. It’s time for answers.

You pull a thick cloak around your shoulders and storm down the stone corridors of Winterfell. The biting northern wind whips at your face as you march toward the stables, where Cregan is often found before heading into the woods. Your feet, swollen and heavy, protest with every step, but nothing can stop you now.

There he is, standing with a few of his men, his tall figure unmistakable even through the morning mist. You watch as they exchange low words, but the moment he spots you, they scatter like children caught stealing sweets. You fix Cregan with a glare that could burn the snow around you.

"What is going on, Cregan Stark?" you demand, hands on your hips, the weight of your belly only adding to the intensity of your stance. "And who is Daisy?"

He blinks at you, clearly caught off guard by your sudden confrontation. "Daisy?"

"Yes, Daisy," you repeat, not giving him a chance to deflect. "I’ve heard you speaking about her. And don’t lie to me, Cregan, I’m pregnant, not deaf."

He opens his mouth, closes it, and then rubs the back of his neck, a nervous habit you’ve come to recognize. "Y/N," he begins slowly, "it’s not what you think."

"Oh, it never is," you snap, your voice rising. "You're sneaking around, speaking in hushed tones, all while I’m here, waddling about, wondering if my husband has taken to… to some northern woman!"

"Some—" Cregan’s eyes widen, and for a moment, his usually serious expression cracks into a brief smile. He quickly wipes it away, knowing well enough that your temper is not to be tested right now. "No, no, love. You’ve got it all wrong."

"I do, do I?" you huff. "Then explain. Who is Daisy?"

There’s a pause, then he sighs, realizing there’s no more avoiding this. "Follow me."

Still seething, you follow him into the woods just beyond the walls of Winterfell. The snow crunches under your boots, and the cold air stings your cheeks. You consider demanding answers again, but before you can open your mouth, Cregan stops beside a small thicket, gestures for you to come closer.

He kneels, parting the branches, revealing a small, hidden hollow where something stirs. Your breath catches as you peer inside.

Lying there, curled up with her pups, is a massive female direwolf. Her fur is thick and silver, speckled with dirt and a few patches of blood—recent wounds from a hunt gone wrong, it seems. But even in her injured state, she exudes strength, a fierce protectiveness as she shields her young.

"This is Daisy," Cregan says softly. "I found her a few weeks ago, injured and alone. Her pack must’ve been killed, but she survived with her pups. I’ve been taking care of them, bringing them food, tending to her wounds."

You blink, feeling the confusion melt into something else. "...You’ve been sneaking out to care for wolves?"

"Aye." Cregan chuckles lightly, glancing up at you. "Not just any wolves, love. I wanted to surprise you. I thought… a direwolf pup would be a fitting gift for you and our child. A symbol of the North, something to protect the little one, like Silverwing does for you."

Your heart softens as you watch the direwolf, her eyes meeting yours for a moment. "So… you weren’t keeping secrets from me about another woman?"

Cregan grins, a lopsided, boyish smile that makes your irritation melt away. "No. Only Daisy here."

You cross your arms, feeling more than a little foolish now, though your pride won’t let you admit it outright. "And why didn’t you tell me sooner?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise," he says, rising to his feet and wrapping an arm around you. "But you caught on quicker than I expected."

You narrow your eyes at him playfully. "You know what’s worse? Silverwing knew, too. She didn’t say a word."

Cregan laughs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Ah, dragons and direwolves—more loyal to each other than to us, it seems.

You huff, but you can't help the smile that creeps onto your face as you lean into him, the warmth of his embrace chasing away the chill. “Next time, Cregan Stark, no more secrets. Wolves, dragons, or otherwise.”

“Agreed,” he murmurs, his hand resting on your belly. “I’ll share everything with you from now on, Y/N.”

As you both stand there, watching the direwolf and her pups, you feel a sense of peace settle over you. The North, with its biting winds and endless snow, feels a little warmer now—filled with the promise of new life, both yours and the wild creatures that will grow beside your family.

"Perhaps we'll name our child Daisy," you tease, elbowing him gently.

Cregan groans. "Gods, no. One Daisy in this family is enough."

[starogeorgina]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐧

Warnings: Incest

Pairing: Cregan Stark × reader, Aemond Targaryen × reader

1.03

The hour was late, and there was not a soul aside from yourself and Prince Jacaerys in the guest house in Winterfell, so you were able to speak freely with each other away from any prying eyes. Your nephew's most recent revelation causes unexpected feelings of grief and sympathy to unfold.

The poisonous actions of your own family had spread so far it caused Rhaenyra to go into premature labor. “My condolences, Jacaerys. I did not know your mother had lost her babe.”

“Did word not reach the keep?”

“If it did, I was not informed.” You sigh, “Losing a babe is a lonely experience. I wouldn’t wish on my worst foe.”

“You speak as if you know this from experience?”

You feel a sudden chill; the only light in the room was from the candles on the table and the flames from the fireplace. Even in the dim light, you can make out the glossiness in his eyes; he was fighting to hold back tears. “A few years ago I had a babe that came early, a girl. I was going to call her Visenya.” You scoff, “Perhaps the name is cursed.”

“I’m sorry.”

The dead girl's birth was more painful than Maitland’s. The maester had no understanding of what caused the premature birth; the only thing you knew for sure was that you were completely alone. “I couldn’t bring myself to say it,” your voice begins to crack. “At her funeral, I couldn’t bear the thought of my own dragon being the one to set my tiny daughter pyre on fire, so Aegon commanded Sunfyre to do it.”

The mention of your brother causes Jacaerys to tense up. He looks furious.

“I know you think he is a monster, but he was the only one who helped me through my grief.”

Confused, he asks, “What about your mother, husband, or Helaena?”

You sit back in the hard wooden chair and smile at the mention of your sister. “Helaena is the most kindhearted and gentle of us, but she doesn’t cope well with death. It took her three moons for her to speak with me again, and even then my sweet sister only spoke in riddles.”

“What about Alicent?”

You lift the cup of wine sitting you had yet to touch to your lips in a poor attempt to hide the involuntary scoff. You rarely saw eye to eye with your husband, but your mother being untrustworthy was something you always agreed upon. “I have kept her at arm’s length and have for many years, trusting nought that she says.”

Jacaerys looks horrified. He was struggling to understand what it must be like to have a family that did not care much for one another.

“Do not fret, my prince,” you say reassuringly. “Not all mothers can care for their children in the way they perhaps wish they could.”

“Was Aemond not there to comfort you?”

Visenya’s death is what completely shattered your marriage. The broken feeling of sitting in your bedchamber alone after the silent sisters came for your daughter still haunted you. Not only should Aemond have been mourning with you, if he was there, they wouldn’t have taken Visenya away from you so soon. You prayed he would burst through the door when the midwives ripped the dead babe you had been cradling from your arms, but he never came.

He was with his whore, missing everything.

When Aemond returned and the maester told him what happened, he beat his knuckles bloody against the wall and only stopped when Ser Criston managed to restrain him.

“No, he was not,” you finally take a large gulp of the bitter-smelling wine. “My brother Daeron is kind, but he lives in OldTown. He wrote to me more than usual, but it was only Aegon who visited me when I was inconsolable.”

Jace says nothing.

“It’s not Aegon’s fault; all of this was my grandsire, Criston, and the men that sit in their council. They were the ones who plotted for years.”

“And your mother? Was she not the ringleader of the rightful queen being usurped?”

“My mother thinks she has a voice in the council, but she is yet to see that it was only possible previously because the king allowed it.”

“How did King Viserys die? Daemon thinks he was poisoned.”

“Perhaps he was.” You look down at the smallest candle and watch as the last of the wax melts away. “Will the queen be merciful when she sits upon the throne? Will she spare Helaena?”

“If you bend the knee, she will gladly take you into her heart, all of you. Our family doesn’t need to be torn apart.”

“It's not only our family who’s been affected. We’ve turned brother against brother. Ser Erryk is on Dragonstone while Ser Arryk remains in the keep. The kingdom's divide has already begun within the kingsguard. I dread to see what will become of the small folk.”

“When my mother takes kings landing, Daemon’s first act will be to hang all those who betrayed her, including the kingsguard who remain loyal to Aegon.”

“It’s not so simple, Jacaerys. Ser Arryk, he only stayed because he’s sworn to me, to my son. Not because he agrees with what happened. Everyone knows my father chose his line of succession; he wanted Rhaenyra on the throne then for you to be king.” You lean your arm over the table and take Jacaerys hand. “If I tell you something of value, you must promise that you’ll never say you heard it from me.”

“What—”

“Swear it.”

He nods, “Yes, I swear it.”

You let go of his hand; tears threaten to spill from your eyes. “On the day he was crowned king, Aegon tried to flee. And he has considered doing it again, but my mother and grandsire have the keep-on lockdown. But it may be possible if someone helps him.”

“Who… you would help him leave?”

It felt like a betrayal discussing Aegon in such detail with another, but you needed Jacaerys to understand the blacks weren’t the only threat to your family. “I would, and not because I don’t believe your mother would spare his life if he bent the knee, but because I know what would happen if he did.”

A look of understanding passes his features. “His own men would turn on him.”

“If Aegon is gone, his son Jaehaerys is next in line. Healena does not want this for him; she will gladly hand the city over to Rhaenyra, and without bloodshed.”

“I have the feeling you are still withholding.”

“Of course I am,” you chuckle lightly as the tears you fought so hard to hold back finally fall. “I do not wish to send my own brother to death. I want to save him from being crushed under the weight of a crown he did not ask for.”

“Do you really think he’d leave his wife and children?”

“Yes,” you answer honestly. “He cares for the twins, but it didn’t stop him from trying to leave before.”

Jacaerys looks uncertain, but how could he not be? There were things you couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t begin to explain that you’ve seen the threat from the north, his mother sitting on the iron throne. The death of thousands by the hands of dragon flames. How you just knew your mother would betray Aegon one day.

“It’s late,” Jacaerys stands up. “We should both sleep and speak again tomorrow. Goodnight, princess.”

“Goodnight, nephew.”

When Jace leaves and you are alone, you begin to crumble. You desperately try to hide the sobs escaping your mouth; exhaustion and pent-up emotions are finally catching up. You pick up the small wooden toy sitting on the table and hold it tightly. Maitland had many toys, and you hope he wouldn’t seek the one you took to feel close to him until you return.

Hearing a soft knock at the door, you rub at your eyes, and presuming it’s Jacaerys, you open the door and are taken aback when it’s not him. “Lord Stark,” you step back to let him in. “Forgive my unladylike appearance; if I had known you were coming, I would have dressed more appropriately.”

Being in a nightgown and robe with only Jacaerys as company didn’t phase you, but in front of the Lord of Winterfell it was rather embarrassing.

“Forgive me, I saw the candlelight and presumed you were still awake... We can speak in the morrow.”

“No, my lord,” you cross your arms over your chest and smile. “It’s fine.”

He stares at you for a few seconds before continuing. “From the moment I returned to my chambers, my son has been all over me. Apparently he’s going to meet the bronze fury.

You smile. “He asked today if he could come with me to see the dragons, but I wanted to check with you first.”

“I—can you assure he won’t get hurt?”

“No dragon can ever be completely tamed, but their emotions are entwined with their riders. And since I hold no ill-will towards your son, he’ll be safe.”

“Okay, he may go with you.” He reaches to open the door. “I best be going; try and get what little sleep I can, as I’m sure Rickon will be up early with excitement.”

“Goodnight, Lord Stark.”

“Cregan,” he locks eyes with you. “When it’s just us, you can call me my first name.”

Mother above, you could only imagine the look on the dowager queen's face if she heard a lord give you leave to speak his name.

“And when it’s just us, you may still refer to me as princess, Cregan.”

He smirks at your teasing. “I’ll see you in the morrow, princess.”

—

𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳. 𝘎𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘶𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺—𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺.

𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘴, 𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦, 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦.

𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥’𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳-𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘺𝘭𝘷𝘪. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴.

𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵.

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮’𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘞𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵. 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘭 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘯.

𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵, “𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘦.”

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘸, 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦. “𝘔𝘺 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺—”

𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. “𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦?”

“𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘦𝘭. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦.”

“𝘐𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦?” 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘵, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦’𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴.

"𝘕𝘰, 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶.”

“𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦.”

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘥. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩. 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.

𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘯’𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦; 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘶𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘔𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯, “𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘐 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘶𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘵? 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.”

𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘢𝘻𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘹𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳. “𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦, 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘞𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘥, 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵; 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘱𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯.”

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘨. 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯?

“𝘕𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦; 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦,” 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘭𝘺.

“𝘠𝘦𝘴, 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦,” 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴.

𝘉𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘺, 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥.

“𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯?”

“𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘝𝘩𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭,” 𝘔𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘺. “𝘈𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮.”

𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘴, “𝘍𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵; 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘝𝘩𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘳. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 ��𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥.”

“𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘳.”

—

“As you say it’s difficult with sons, I dare say I spoil my boy. He’s inherited most things from me, even the things I wish he did not.” You lean against the wooden bannister, standing beside Lord Stark, watching as Rickon plays with his direwolf on the snow below. “Your son, Rickon, is a very kind boy; you must be proud.”

“Northerners are born hardened; it’s in our nature, but I do sometimes regret my son not having the softness of a woman to help guide him. But as you say, he is kind, and that’s all I could ask for.” Hearing the Lord of Winterfell speak of his son in such a way was bittersweet. You didn’t doubt Aemond’s love for Maitland, but your son being kind wouldn’t be high on his priority. “And I’m sure the young prince is lucky to have a mother who loves him dearly.”

You clear your throat. “I find it rather fascinating how different things are outside the city I grew up in. A young lord or lady not marrying soon after their spouse dies is almost unheard of.”

“I could have,” he muses. “My marriage was political, but I was lucky; I grew to love my wife, Arra. She was soft-spoken and would sing a lot. I did not believe it would be possible to find another like her or anyone so deeply devoted to loving another woman’s son. The ladies I entertained with the idea of marrying showed little to no interest in Rickon, so I chose not to bring them into his life.”

You turn to face him and say, “Not many men would say that. Most of them would put desire above love and duty without a second thought.”

Cregan rests his arms beside you on the bannister and leans in ever so slightly, a mischievous smile pulling on his lips. “Tis possible for both to exist; even the most dutiful of men and women still have desires, princess.”

Heat creeps into your cheeks, and you can’t help but smile. “You wouldn’t have fared well growing up in the keep as a lady, my lord. I was taught if a woman had improper desires or urges, they were to go pray in the sept for forgiveness.”

You feel the warmth from his body when his broad shoulder brushes against your own. His voice is lower than before when he says, “Winterfell doesn’t have a sept to pray in.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Vermithor landing just outside the walls of Winterfell.

“I believe it’s time for Rickon to meet my dragon.”

—

True to your word, Rickon was unharmed when you took him to greet the bronze fury up close. You even flew around the outskirts of Winterfell three times before Vermithor landed beside Silverwing from the same location you left.

Rickon took your hand and excitedly pulled you through the castle grounds until he spotted Lord Stark and the maester, who were patiently waiting on him. As you watch the young boy go to attend his lessons, you jump, hearing a voice beside you.

“A morning he will never forget.”

“Nephew,” you take in his appearance. “Are you going hunting?”

“Yes, I’ve been invited to join several of the lords; however, I reckon whatever I catch will be devoured by Vermax.”

Jacaerys offers you his arm, which you take. “Very ill-tempered for a little thing, I imagine he will be formidable when fully grown.”

“Big enough to saddle two, so the dragon keepers say. I wanted to let you know the queen has written; she has refused Aegon’s terms.”

“What terms?”

He narrows his eyes, “the ones your grandsire, Otto Hightower, spoke of when he stepped foot on Dragonstone. Did you not know?”

“I was unaware he had even left the keep at any point.”

“The former queen claims me and my brothers will be treated kindly; after my own mother bends the knee.”

“Alicent speaks with two tongues.”

“I suspected as much. She spent years calling us bastards.” When you reach the stables where the other lord's horses are being prepared, he lets go of your arm. “Lord Stark isn’t going; I believe he is staying so he can speak with you in private.”

“I won’t go back on my word. I will do what I can to help your mother sit on the throne.”

He nods and begins to walk towards the stables.

“Jacaerys,” you call after him. “It’s true you don’t share the same features as your mother, but that does not make you a bastard.”

“Do not jest,” he says defensively.

“People will believe what they wish and may whisper behind your back, but it doesn’t change the fact you are of blood and fire,” you cup his cheek. “Ser Harwin had blue eyes. You have brown eyes, as did Ser Laenor.”

You almost feel guilty seeing the look in his eyes. Had the young boy not thought of this before? The rumors of Rhaenyra’s sons being bastards were most likely started, but those on the Green Council as another way to belittle and discredit a woman in a position of power. It is known Aegon has bastards, but not once has it ever been mentioned at court.

You are caught off guard when you turn to walk in the opposite direction, and Cregan is waiting for you. Smiling, you walk towards him, “my lord.”

“Princess, I was wondering if you care to join me in the godswood.”

“Of course.”

“I’m glad; I believe we have much to discuss.”

[gtgbabie0]

Scraped knees and warm baths

{Cregan Stark knows how to take care of his wife}

I’ve been wanting to write for him so bad, I just haven’t had the time to write for any hotd characters recently, anyway hope you enjoy!! 💕💕

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You hadn’t meant to stay out so long, just for a small walk, you told yourself however time seemed to slip away from you, as you took in the serenity of nature, how the packed snow crunched underneath your feet, or the soft joyous melodies of birds, the crips air filled your lungs and it felt refreshing, it was good to get out the castle.

However it came with its dangers, ice, and somewhere along your journey you had lost your footing, slipping with a gasp against the stony path your palms grazing against the ragged surface along with your knees, just your luck, you think standing back to your feet with a huff.

And while you take your calm stroll outside Winterfell castle walls, Cregan was losing his mind, going mad with worry as he searches for you frantically and you’re nowhere to be seen, your absence sends his mind spiralling with horrid thoughts.

“She can’t have gone far my lord, I’m sure she’ll return… eventually” Maybe it’s the lack of worry in his tone or the smug smirk that teeters on his lips that sends Cregans’ skin tingling with anger as he turns to the guard.

“Ser Duncan I suggest you go help the rest of the men prepare- no one sleeps until my wife is found” he snaps walking closer to him, “Do I make myself clear?” He asks, trying to bite back the concern that sits on his tongue.

“Of course, my lord” and with that Cregan walks over to the stables a crease haunting his brows as he racks his mind for where you could possibly be.

“Lord Stark! She’s been found!”

Cregan is quick to look over and sure enough there you are, an overwhelming feeling of relief washes over him as he looks at you, bright-eyed with a giant smile, your dress stained with mud and he runs over to you, wrapping your shoulders with one of his furs protecting you from the harsh northern winds.

“Silly girl” he murmurs, urging you into his arms tightly.

You can hear the unease that weaves through his tone and it nips at your heart making you feel a little guilty, "I'm sorry" you whisper.

he pulls away slightly, looking at you with gentle eyes before turning around, “Lyra prepare a hot bath,” he says and she nods curtly, turning on her heels.

You silently scold yourself for causing so much trouble as you look around at all the men and women gathering around, you didn’t realise you were gone for so long, his hand rests on the small of your back leading you back to your shared bedchambers.

“I almost had the whole north searching for you,” he tells you, his big hands cupping either side of your face and he just can’t bring himself to be mad at you, the way you smile so sweetly at him, “I reckon you’ll send me to an early grave my dear” he sighs pressing a kiss to your forehead.

His hands reach for yours, and you gasp as fingers brush against the graze on your palm, “What? What is it- what happened?” He panics, taking your hands and studying the abrasions that adorn your palms with concern.

“It’s nothing, Cregan,” you say pulling your hands away, and before you can dismiss his worries he’s already pulling up the fabric of your dress noticing the blood that stains your knees, along with the small cuts.

“How did you manage this?” He asks, guiding you to the steaming tub, his fingers make work with untying the lace of your dress, letting the sleeves fall down to your arms and he peppers gentle kisses to your shoulder.

You giggle at the memory, “I slipped on ice, it wasn’t too bad” You smile stepping out of the dress, and you're not too sure if you're trying to convince him or yourself, your hands grasping at his arms as he eases you into the bath, the warm water soothes the dull ache in your muscles.

His hand cups at the water pouring it over your skin, “Wasn’t too bad? Look at your knees my love” he says nodding over to your knees that are pulled to your chest, he leans to press gentle kisses to them careful of the cuts, “I’ll go get the Maesters to take a look at it, don’t want it getting infected” he presses a kiss to your forehead and he goes to stand but you're quick to stop him.

“Wait- stay for a second more” you whisper and his face softens, he doesn’t think he could ever say no to you.

He sits back down on the wooden stall, picking up the small jug, “Of course my dear” takes his forefinger resting it underneath your chin as he pushes your head up slightly before pouring the warm water over your hair.

He washes you gently, peppering occasional kisses to your wet skin, “Come on my dear let’s get you warm and something to eat” he says helping you out of the tub, the water now lukewarm, he dries you off with such loving eyes, helping you change into something comfortable.

You sit by the fire humming at the pleasant warmth that surrounds you like a blanket, “Thank you Lyra” Cregan smiles as she places a hot bowl of stew on the table along with bread before walking out of the room with a nod.

“Eat something, my dear, I’ll go get the Maesters,” he says, pressing a kiss against your temple.

“Thank you, Cregan” You look up at him as his thumb brushes against your cheek, his chest blooms with love and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you.

He looks at you with adoration in his eyes, “Of course, anything for you” and you swear your heart stops at his love, the lord Stark of Winterfell, how you owned his entire heart.

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[sunnytarg]

How would Yandere!Aegon I, Aemond, Daemon and Margor react to a Stark!Reader who refused to marry them on religious grounds? (As in she doesn’t want to marry and have children with someone that doesn’t worship the Old Gods)

I’m still having a hard time writing Daemon and I have no idea if anyone can tell through my writing. Anyways, enjoy!

TW: Somnophilia, dubcon, kidnapping(?), and stalking.

Aegon I (The Conqueror)

Aegon was a persistent man. When he wanted something he would eventually get it even if it took him a while.

None were surprised when after the Lord of Winterfell finally bent the knee to him, Aegon soon set his eyes on conquering another part of the North. The Lord of Winterfell’s sister. Unlike most that had come before her, she was not bending over backward to fulfill his every want nor was she cold and distant. She was dismissive, as though he didn’t have a dragon perched outside the walls of the cold castle. The more she acted as if he was not there, the more attention he paid to her.

He soon learned she was unwed and that every day she would take a stroll out to a tree that he had been told was where they worshipped the Old Gods. While his sister-wives were entertained by the feasts the northerners put together in their honor, Aegon found himself following Lady Stark out into the forest. He tried his best not to be seen. He watched as she knelt in front of the tree’s face for several minutes before getting up to leave. He didn’t follow her back that night. He only stayed for a few moments longer and watched the tree. He knew nothing about the Old Gods and why the northerners worshipped them. Truthfully, he didn’t care enough to know. He couldn’t see why it would be so important to him.

The next morning as Visenya and Rhaenys still slumbered, as well as most of the castle, Aegon went to the Lord of Winterfell. With the Lady barely giving him the time of day, he knew he wouldn’t get the answer he wanted so he decided to ask her brother for her hand in marriage. The man agreed quickly, stating that his sister only needed to agree, and once she did they would be wed.

Aegon had not expected an immediate yes but he hadn’t expected the Lady to say no so quickly and with so little thought. She refused to marry him due to her Gods. The Gods he did not worship. She stated that she could not marry nor bare children for a man who did not understand her Gods or the way of her people. Aegon had suggested that a Weirwood tree be brought to King’s Landing for her to which she only laughed, claiming he clearly understood nothing of what it represented. With a forced smile, he nodded and left the Lady to herself.

That night he had asked his dear sister-wife Rhaenys to find a Weirwood tree and place it in King’s Landing. She left without question and when Visenya raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for an answer he gave none.

He went to the Lord of Winterfell again who patted Aegon on the shoulder and pitied him for the rejection. Aegon had only to remind the Lord of the two dragons that stood outside his gates and what had happened to his previous enemies when they went against him. It was a threat and the Lord could see that. It was something Aegon appreciated because he didn’t care to dance around this for much longer.

The next morning, Visenya made sure that their things were packed and atop their dragons. Along with Lady Stark’s belongings. When the Lady herself was brought into the room in which Aegon stood with her brother, the look of boredom that was present on her face every time she saw Aegon was wiped away with a look of worry. Aegon stood back as her brother explained to her that she would not be wed to Aegon, as she wished, but she would be going to King’s Landing with him. When a look of confusion appeared on her beautiful face Aegon smiled and took her hands and told her that she would live with him as his mistress. She would not need to bare him any children and a Weirwood tree had been brought to her new home for her.

It may not have been what he wanted initially but perhaps after years as his mistress and years without a child of her own, Aegon could only hope that the love he showed her would be enough for her to finally agree to wed him but for now, he could settle for this.

Maegor

When it is whispered that the Stark family might join his nephew in rebelling against his claim to the throne, Maegor himself goes to Winterfell to sort things out with the Lord of Winterfell. When he first arrived, though, it was not the Lord that caught his eye but one of his daughters. She was beautiful, Maegor noted, but that was not what drew him to her. There was a fire in her eyes that he had truly ever seen in dragons when she looked at him.

That night, as he was talking to the Lord of Winterfell, he brought up his daughter. He claimed she was a Snow, a bastard, but he had loved her mother very much and had agreed to raise her alongside his sons. Maegor seeing the opportunity had suggested that if the Lord held no objections to Maegor marrying her, he would simply forget about the talks of the Starks rebelling. The Lord quickly agreed, knowing how Maegor handled his enemies and he wasn’t going to disagree with the man whilst his dragon, the same dragon that frightened his father enough to bend the knee, was outside the castle walls. Despite his agreeing to give his daughter's hand to Maegor, he warned the king of how devoted his daughter was to the Old Gods. Maegor simply laughed and said that it could be dealt with.

The next morning, as they were breaking their fast, Lord Stark announced the union that would be had between their House and House Targaryen. When his daughter heard this news she immediately protested but it didn’t matter. Maegor had already decided she was to be his wife so under his command he had his men take her to her rooms and have her locked in there. She was only to be let out that night when they were to be married. Lord Stark said nothing as the guards took away his daughter, who only spat in Maegor’s direction before she was out of view. When everyone at the table was settled again, Maegor smirked and said to no one in particular, “I think I will enjoy this marriage.”

When night fell he stood before the Weirwood tree and awaits his bride. When she was walked down to Maegor by her father, her beautiful dress could not hide the chains Maegor had requested be placed on her. She glared at him the entire ceremony and after she said her vows, she declared that this was a mockery of The Old Gods. Maegor refused to acknowledge her as the ceremony continued and when it ended he brought her to the chambers he was staying in by himself, although, he refused to remove the chains. She would learn that despite his name, he could treat the things he wanted well as he believed he did when he had their wedding ceremony before her precious Weirwood tree.

Daemon

Daemon had asked the sister of Lord Stark to marry him on several occasions. The first time in his youth and the most recently after his first wife had died. He made no secret his love for the Stark woman. Proclaiming she was his to anyone that had ears. She was not his, of course, as she would remind people. She never would be. She could never marry anyone who did not understand and worship the Old Gods. She would not compromise on this it infuriated Daemon because he was no king and his brother had refused to make the match on the grounds that the Lady, herself refused.

So, Daemon watched her. He was lucky enough that she lived in King’s Landing as one of the queen’s lady-in-waiting. When many thought he snuck down to the city and the depravity below them, he only snuck through the hidden passageways in the castle to find Lady Stark in her chambers. She mostly read or slept and when he saw her leave her room he would enter it. Searching for things that smelt like her. Once, he found her nightgowns and decided to take them all. Knowing that until she could have more purchased for herself she would have to sleep naked. It was something he enjoyed watching immensely. He didn’t know if she knew that he was behind the stolen clothes or if he watched her every step but even if she did, he would not stop.

Eventually, though, as most Ladies-in-waiting do, she got married. It was to a man who belonged to a Northern House a house no one could really remember. He did pray to The Old Gods, though, and apparently, that was enough for the woman he had so longed to marry to agree to be another man’s wife. Luckily, because he was not the Lord of his House the Queen could request that they stay in King’s Landing.

Daemon was glad that his love wasn’t going to be taken away from him but he couldn’t help but roll his eyes and glare daggers into the ungrateful man that his Lady now called her husband. At the feast to celebrate such a joyous event, Daemon made sure to sneak out when the newly married couple decided to take their leave for the night. He hide in his usual spot and watched as his Lady undressed for her new husband and laid down on the bed with her legs open for him. Daemon pulled out his own hard cock at the sight of her naked form. Her breasts her soft and he would give anything to taste her cunt. Her new husband didn’t even think to have her on his tongue, he only climbed on the bed and thrust his cock into her.

Daemon watched as her tits bounced with every thrust and pumped his own cock harder when she moaned. Her own husband had finished before she had and rolled off of her and promptly fell asleep. Daemon bit the inside of his cheek to not growl at the thought. How could a man have this beautiful northern lady underneath him and not have her cum with pleasure? He stayed long enough for her to fall asleep and he debated with himself for a few seconds on if he should enter the room.

Her husband had drunk so much wine, Daemon doubted that a wild horse running about their chambers would wake him. His lady had also had a fair amount to drink, especially after her husband had fallen asleep. So after a moment of rationalizing to himself, Daemon snuck into the chambers for the first time that she was also in there as well. He walked over to her side of the bed with his cock still out. He knew simply jerking off to her would no longer simply suffice. So he positioned himself on the bed carefully, so as not to jostle her husband or wake her, and slipped his hard cock into her. Her poor cunt was still wet and after a few slow and deep thrusts, he could tell it was just begging to be pleased.

He leaned down and latched his mouth onto one of her soft tits to muffle his moans as he continued to thrust into her. He brought one hand to her weeping cunt and rubbed at her clit. She clenched around his cock which made him buck harder into her. She moaned in her sleep but did not wake and when Daemon was sure she wouldn’t wake he continued until he felt her clenching again and soaking his cock with her creamy cum. When he felt her release he quickened his own thrusts and finally spilled his seed in her. When he pulled away he stood and looked down at his Lady. Her cunt was a mess of her own cream as well as her husband’s and Daemon’s seed. He snuck out of the chambers the same way he came in and told himself he would find another opportunity to taste her on his tongue.

Nearly nine moons after her wedding she gave birth to a son and when Daemon finally saw him he smiled in triumph. The babe had patchy white hair on the top of his head and large lilac eyes. Despite her marrying another man, Daemon had still managed to make it so they were bonded through blood.

Aemond

When Aemond is sent out to all of the great Houses of Westeros to gain the support of his brother he wasn’t expecting his attention to be grabbed by a widowed Stark. While the Lord would deliberate and talk to his counselors, Aemond would find himself sitting with the Lady and talking. He learned of how her husband was a Stark and how he died of a fever a little less than a year ago. When Aemond offered her his sympathies she only smiled sadly and shook her head saying, “I prayed to The Old Gods, and they saw it right to take him. Who am I to argue with that?”

After their talks, Aemond would find the library in Winterfell and read about The Old Gods. They clearly meant quite a bit to this widow. When he searched out a maester who resided in Winterfell and believed in The Old Gods, he told Aemond that the widow he had his eye on would never marry him nor bare his children because he did not worship The Old Gods. Aemond refused to believe the old man and on his second week in Winterfell, he went to his dear widow and asked for her hand. She smiled sadly at him and declined. Claiming that she had grown to care for Aemond and that despite her love for The Old Gods she would never want him to pretend to believe in something he truly didn’t. She kissed him on the cheek in parting and left.

Aemond didn’t know what to do with himself. He was certain he loved the sad woman despite barely knowing her. He wouldn’t force her to marry him and she was right, as fascinating as The Old Gods seemed, he didn’t believe in them. When he realized that his affection for her couldn’t go on any longer he drowned himself in ale with a rather burly northerner.

The northern man took pity on Aemond and brought him to the only brothel in Winterfell, there Aemond found a woman who looked like his widow from behind. He spent the entire night with her and when he married her the next day he was still slightly drunk because that was the only way he could look at her face and see the woman he truly wanted. By the time he left Winterfell, he did not have the North’s allegiance to the new king nor the widow he had coveted but a new wife who when he bedded her he would moan the name of another.

[lunafreya24]

A Passion of Ice and Fire

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon/Cregan Stark

Chapter 5: Jace speaks to Baela about his time in Winterfell and what he discovered there. Their betrothal hangs in the balance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jacaerys made the short trip to his cousin’s chambers. When he arrived, he found the door slightly ajar, with only a handmaiden inside. 

“Excuse me, have you seen the Lady Baela?” He asked her.

“She said she was going for a walk, Your Highness.” She responded sweetly.

“Thank you.” He said, leaving the room. He knew her normal route well. They had often walked it together. It was one the few times they could be fully open with each other. He walked until he found her sitting on a flat rock, looking out onto the sea. She reminded Jace of his mother so much in that moment, he knew she would make an amazing queen one day. That is if she still wished to marry him after hearing what he had to say. 

He approached her. “May I sit here?” He asked bashfully, Baela looked up at him and nodded, sliding over a little so they could share the most even part of the stone.

Jace took a deep breath, trying to find the words. “I’m sorry,” he began. 

“What for?” Baela countered. 

“For my callousness earlier today. I didn’t mean to be that way; I just didn’t know how to face you after what has happened.” 

“What do you mean Jace?” 

“While I was in Winterfell… I…. discovered something…. about myself.”

“Discovered something?"

"Yes. Something that will make see me...... differently."

"Jace, I don’t understand. Just speak plainly.” 

“I slept with another man.” Jace blurted out, shutting his eyes and feeling his cheeks flush from admitting his actions so bluntly. 

“What?” Baela questioned, in shock. 

Jace rushed to defend himself. “I did not do this to hurt you. It just…. happened. I don’t know how to explain it. I understand if you’re angry.” 

“I’m not angry. I am a bit stunned though.” she said, laughing a little. 

Jace visibly relaxed at her words. “I can understand that. I just hope this doesn’t change our friendship.” 

“Oh no, of course it doesn’t. You and I have been close friends for over a decade now. It will take much more than this to break us.” She said with confidence. 

“That’s good to hear.” Jace paused before continuing. “And what about our betrothal?”

“What of it?”

“Do you still wish to go through with it?” 

“Are my wishes anyone's concern? Do they even matter?” 

“They matter to me, Baela. My mother said she would speak with you if you were unhappy. She, of all people, understands our situation.” 

“Thank you Jace, that means a lot to me, but I think this betrothal is the best thing for everyone. And besides, our choice of spouse was never truly ours to begin with. Now our families and our legacy will be secured. We’d be far from the first royal spouses that didn’t love each other romantically. And at least we are fond of one another. I would much rather be married to a friend than any of the other possible suitors. Nothing but spoiled children fresh off of their wet nurses and fat grouses old enough to be my grandsire.” Baela relented. They shared a laugh together. Jace felt his body completely relax. Despite his worries, he had expected this kind of response from her. They both knew the importance of duty and the sad fact that marrying for true love was a privilege, not the custom. 

“You’re right. And I still wish to marry you as well. I think you will make an incredible queen one day. But I still wish for your happiness. You would be allowed to find your real love with whomever you wish." Jace said, gently taking her hand. “I only ask that you are careful who you lay with, if only for your own safety.” 

“You as well." Baela said, a touch of fear lacing her voice. "Especially after what happened to your father. Both of them.” 

“I know.” He acknowledged. They both knew the grave danger of such things. Jace sighed and rested his head on Baela’s shoulder. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds being the crashing of the waves against the beach. 

“Does this other man have a name?” Baela asked, breaking the silence. 

“Lord Cregan Stark.” Jace whispered, not lifting his head from her shoulder. He could feel Baela turn her head, her gaze burning right through him. 

“Lord Cregan Stark?” Baela asked, astonished. This story was getting crazier with every word. Jace picked his head up, hardly suppressing his smile after seeing Baela’s stunned expression. 

Quickly, her gaping turned into a mischievous grin. “Tell me everything!”

[misguidedasgardian]

The Winter Sun (4)

4. An Icy road

MASTERLIST

Summary: You come face to face to Cregan Stark again, and to ask no small thing out of him

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, medieval and asoif customs, AGE GAP, Cregan is 12 years OLDER than reader), arranged marriage, talks about having sex, might miss some warnings +18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 2.8k

Notes: IT’S HERE PEOPLEEEEEE, THEY ARE MEETING UP AGAINNNNNN

Stunned was the word that described more properly the face of the Warden of the North.

Your proposal had been so blunt, and unabashed that it was completely out of guard.

“My Princess…”, he started, but cut himself off, he looked behind him and they were all stunned as him was

That had been an hour ago, now, he had invited you in while he took counsel with members of his Winterfell court. And you walked aimlessly through a room that you guessed was to receive people.

The castle, unlike their outside, was comfortable and warm on the inside, every room held a big fireplace, tapestries in the walls, and warm color dressed each room you had been in, it was pretty.

The Red Keep was the most luxurious place, but this was… homey.

“Psst”, someone tried to catch your attention, and as you looked at the corner of the room, you saw a girl, the same one that cheered after your abrupt proposal. 

“Come this way”, she said, and you followed her, she guided you through a small corridor, in the middle of it, there was a vent, from where you could hear what was happening in the main room.

“I’m Sara Snow by the way, Cregan’s half sister”, she whispered, and you smiled

“I’m (Y/N)”, you introduced, “Is nice to meet you”

“I was waiting for you”, she whispered

“What?”, and then she shushed you, and you both listened in

“Nobody will discuss it, that she is a nice, beautiful Princess, but, my lord, what you need to do is marry a Northerner girl, with blood of the first men pumping through her veins!”, said Lord Karstark, palming his forearms

“Someone like your own daughter?”, mocked the Lady of the Dreadfort, “your motivations are so transparent”

“We all heard the rumors about the princess, that she is dismissed from her own family, unwanted, a pariah… her own birth, if not for King Viserys, she would be a bastard, technically…”

“That’s enough”, sentenced Cregan 

“She traveled half the continent to offer herself to you my lord, she has no shame”

“I said enough”, he said again.

“Say thank you, but no thank you”, reasoned another, “send the princess back to King’s Landing, she is a Targaryen, dragons don’t fair well when they come North”

“She might not be what we expected from a princess, but she was sent by the King, refusing her would be refusing the King himself”, fighted another 

“She is the daughter to Aegon Targaryen!”, interrupted one voice, the maester of arms of Winterfell, “I don’t like the Targaryens more than any of us, but “the conciliator” was the kind of man that shows up once in a lifetime!”, he continued, making you smile, “he improved the roads throughout the North, he managed to lower our taxes during winter, and created bonds with the Tyrells for us to get more and better grains…And they sent us his only child to marry our Lord Stark, we should be honored”. Your eyes filled with tears, there he was again, your father, taking care of you even if he was gone

“I agree”, relented the other, “But she is more lamb than dragon, I’m afraid”

“Perhaps that is just what we need”, said the maester

There was a silence, a good silence

“She is just a child”, muttered Cregan, and your heart broke a little bit

“She has been of age for the last two years”, said the maester, “she is a woman” 

“I’ve known her since she was a child”, corrected Cregan. “She follows other gods, other cultures, she…their houses go against our beliefs…”

“She was born a natural daughter from Falena Stokeworth and Aegon Targaryen, she was not born off of incest”, reminded one, and you knew that he was looking for excuses. 

“We could never afford feeding her dragon especially in winter”

“But we would have a dragon as an ally to the North, the greatest ally”

“My Lord”, sounded the same similar voice, Lady Bolton, “you are the one that is going to marry her, sleep by her side every night, and give her your children, it's your decision, and we will support you, no matter what you decide”

You didn’t want to hear anymore, Sara watched your face and followed out of the passageways.

You came back to the same room they asked you to wait in, and Sara accompanied you

“It was nice to meet you but I think they will send me back to King’s Landing”, you said bitterly

“I don’t know about that”, she said, as Cregan came out of the hallways and walked towards you, you took a step towards him with a scared look on your face.

“Your grace”, he said solemnly

“My Lord”, and as he looked at you he pondered, about you, about the first time he ever saw you, about the second one, and that he hadn't seen you in five long years. “Please my Lord”, you whispered, “don’t send me back…”, you begged him with your eyes and to him, you turned to be that thirteen year old again, hiding from her own family, and that turned his legs to jelly. You were begging, but you didn’t care.

You might have been desperate, you might beg, but this was your only shot, you need to make it count.

You didn't want to go back to King’s Landing, and he didn’t want to be pestered anymore about taking another wife, this… might work

But you were a young southern girl, did he have the patience to teach you, to guide you through the wilderness? The North wasn’t like King’s Landing, it was cold, and inhospitable.

As wolves didn’t fare well in the south, dragons didn’t do it in the North.

“I beg your grace to give me a day to think about it”, he said solemnly, “in the meantime you will be our guest here, in Winterfell”, he muttered

“Of course”, you muttered with a shy smile. “All the time you need, I will happy to spend the day here, I have never traveled so far North”, you said with a shy smile, and he drew one small one as well

“Good”, he then with his eyes looked for Sara, and nodded, “I trust than my dear sister can show you and tell you everything you need to know, and see”, he said with a smile, a fake one.

“What about you?”, you asked without even thinking

“I have meetings with the Lords, have come to discuss measures to be taken throughout the winter”, you nodded

“Of course My Lord”, so that’s why everyone was discussing you, you arrived at the worst possible moment. He left and Sara came close to you and smiled reassuringly.

“I’ll show you around”, she said and you smiled, you were starting to like her.

She took you all over the castle, and even though you were cold as hell, you remained thinking it was cozy and inviting.

You had heard awful things about the North, how it was a wasteland, a paramo. A mood pit, but when Sara took you to the battlements from which you could see Winter Town and a whole valley decorated with ice and snow, towards the right, you could see a beautiful green forest 

“It is breathtaking”, you whispered

“You like it?”, she asked, smiling widely, but your smile turned bitter

“I love it, but I might not get to see it again”, you said sadly

“You will”, she muttered

“He is not the man I remember”, you whispered. Sara looked at you sympathetically 

“He has been through a lot”, she said gently. She took your hand with a shy smile. “Let’s see the rest shall we?”, you nodded enthusiastically, and after the castle had been already seen, she took you outside. Where the charm and beauty continued.

You took a stroll through the Gods Wood, it was even bigger than the one in the Red Keep, a small creek ran through it.

You were not a religious person, but even you could tell the aura in this place was different, mystical, your breathing became heavy and when you were here you could feel there was nowhere else in the world

“It takes your breath away, doesn’t it?”, she asked, and you nodded

“It does”, you whispered, not wanting to interrupt the aura of the place. 

You took a seat by the roots of the heart tree

“Do you follow the new gods?”, she asked

“the seven?”, she nodded, “no, I… I’m sad to say I don’t quite follow religions”, you said, “Is Cregan devoted?”

“Yes, to the old gods”, she whispered, “we all are”. 

“I could follow the old gods”, you suggested with a smile, “do you think they will take me?”, she laughed 

“Of course they will”, you smiled gently, but with a little nostalgia. “Tell me about you”, you suggested 

“Well, I don’t know who my mother was, she gave me up in the gates of Winterfell when I was a baby, Lord Rickon Stark raised me”, she said

“Do you like living here?”, you asked

“I love it”, she admitted. You smiled, but as you looked behind her, golden eyes returned your gaze amongst the trees. As you looked more determinedly, you saw black fur and…

“Sara”, you muttered, “I think there is something in the woods”, she turned around to look at what you were seeing, and then she turned to you.

“That is a Direwolf”, she said

“A direwolf?”, you asked, “I thought that they were a legend”

“They are rare”, she muttered, “He is bound to Cregan”

“Really? like I’m bonded to my dragon?”, she didn’t answer as you both looked at the majestic animal, he didn’t take his eyes off of you as he roamed amongst the trees, not ever approaching you

“Is he going to eat me?”, you whispered, and Sara shook her head

“But Cregan might”, she giggled

“Stop it!”, you laughed. The sound of your cackle might have attracted the giant wol, as he patted his way through the snow towards you.

“Don’t panic”, Sara warned.

The Direwolf approached you, it was huge, taller than you standing up. It was black and gray, shaggy and wild. He came so close you could reach out and touch him, but you didn’t dare, you just stood really still. His eyes reminded you of Vhaelar, they were like melted gold. 

“Please don’t bite my face off”, you begged, and he only sniffed you, and he let out a small growl, and then he left. “He hates me”, you mocked

“He doesn’t”, you both looked at the entrance to the Godswood and Cregan was standing there, “our guest is freezing Sara”, he chided, “lend her a cape, can you?”, he asked 

Sara, more than happy, left the Woods towards the castle. You stood up hastily, as you encountered him 

“How are you finding Winterfell, princess? I bet it’s quite different than King’s Landing”

“It is”, you said with a shy smile, “but not badly… I mean… good different, not bad different”, and you started babbling, oh gods why were you so nervous?? He seemed amused by your nervousness, so you just stopped yourself, and then you took a long breath. “It is beautiful”, you confessed looking up at him. “it is a bit cold but the snow, and the acoustics.. and the colors…”, you started looking around with a big smile on your face. “You have a beautiful home, my lord”, you said finally, meeting his eyes again. You noticed that he was staring at you, his gaze probably never leaving yours.

“Thank you princess, I see you have met my Direwolf”, he muttered

“What’s his name?”, you asked

“Autumn”, he told you, you smiled

“It’s beautiful”, you said, and you looked down at your feet. “Would you like to meet my bonded animal?”, you asked, looking up at him. He nodded

As you were walking outside, Sara met you, and offered you a fur cape. It was gray fur and black fabric, and you placed it around your shoulders.

You could feel Cregan’s gaze on you, but you pretended you didn’t, your blushed cheeks gave him an idea. 

You walked outside the castle walls, where a mountain of snow had gathered. As she felt you nearing, she raised her head, appearing in the small mountain, she purred

“This is Vhaelar”, she cooed when she saw you, the kids of Winter town had gathered around her, each of them wanting to see her more closely, but hiding, not daring to approach.

She acted as she didn’t even saw them

Cregan seemed nervous, but he looked down at you and you smiled reassuringly. 

“Would you like to touch her?”, you asked, and he seemed weary, but nodded. You approached her first, and invited Cregan to do the same. 

He removed the glove from his hand, and then he let you grab it gently. Vhaelar purred and she neared you slowly, until she could be in your reach, and then you placed Cregan’s hand over her snout

She purred again, sniffing him, she closed her big eyes and when she opened them again her pupils were enlarged, her eyes looking almost black as you released him and took a step back, leaving him alone against your dragon.

And Cregan smiled warmly. 

He would never admit how nervous he was, but that had vanished, when he felt the noble beast take to him

“She likes you”, you observed and Vhaelar cooed, like agreeing with you

“And I like her”, he said, and you smiled widely. He then turned to you. “Ride with me?”

“What?”, you asked

“You do ride horses? it’s easier than riding a dragon I’d venture”. He muse

“I do”, you said, and you couldn’t hide your excitement.

Perhaps he was testing you, and Cregan actually was.

Sara liked you, Autumn didn’t bite your hand off, and you loved his home. You did. And the cape fits you like you were born a northerner.

Could you ride through Ice, snow and forest?

He had all setted up and when you both arrived back inside the courtyard of the castle, the maester at arms himself, Barth, had saddled your horses. 

Alright this was it. You accepted the remains of a beautiful mare of brown mane. You climbed easily, and Cregan did the same to a black stallion, and you let him lead you out of the gates that they opened for him, and out of the lands of the castle. 

He led you through the snow and towards the wolf’s wood. Far to the right you saw the big wolf trotting alongside you, and went into the woods. 

These woods were different from the ones of the King’s wood, the trees were more leafy, and taller and the logs thicker. It was autumn, so the snow wasn’t sticking yet, but it looked beautiful nonetheless. 

You were so distracted watching the scenery, that you didn’t see as Cregan looked at you trying to gain your attention.

“Why?”, he asked, pulling you away from your thoughts and back to reality

“Why?”, you asked back

“You flied your dragon all the way North, just to offer your own hand in marriage to me, why?”, and you froze, and you clinged into the reins of your calm horse, who didn’t even need guidance to lead you through the woods she probably knew so well.

“It was the small council’s idea”, you said, trying to tell the truth, but at the moment you didn't think bringing up Aemond would be a good Idea. “They were trying to find a good match for me… And they agree you would be… good”, you whispered, but because of the acoustic and the snow, he heard you just fine. “And I remembered you fondly, so I decided to take matters in my own hands”. You added more cheerfully

“You said you didn’t want to get back to King’s Landing”, he said then, and that you couldn’t quite explain.

“Well…”, you muttered nervously, “I never thought of King’s Landing as my home…” you admitted. “I want to have my own chance at happiness”, you admitted, “I wanted to get away from that place”, this was it, you gathered all the courage you could muster, and looked deeply into his eyes. 

Yes, this could work, he thought, you were pliant, willing, good, no evil behind your actions. You liked it, you liked it here, in the North, at his home. You wanted to get away from King’s Landing… the lords, ladies and counselors will stop hunting him… 

You needed a refuge, he needed a cover

“Princess (Y/N) Targaryen”, he said, “I Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell, and warden of the North, accept King Viserys’ proposal, for us to be wed”

taglist! ❤️ @severewobblerlightdragon @missusnora @stargaryenx @poppyreader @chainsawsangel @court-jester-stuff @batprincess1013

[countrymusiclover]

3 - Day with Aemond

Part 4

A Wolf Among Dragons

Tag list ( just ask to be added ) @tallrock35 @kmc1989 @starkleila @noirrose21-blog @lover-of-books-and-tea @immyowndefender @iamavailablesstuff

“I am going to miss you, dear daughter.” My father said weakly laying in his bed in his chambers at the very end of his illness that had fallen to him.

He had declared that I would be wed off to the king's brother to further our alliance with the South since me and my brothers were taught to never forget the oaths we had sworn to one another. “I don’t want to leave you, father. Not if this may be the last time I see you.”

“Stark’s don’t forget their oaths, daughter. We must keep our word even if those in the South may not do the same.” He declares to me while holding onto my hand that was tightly squeezing his.

Sniffing through tears I didn’t want to leave for a city I had never been to. Winterfell was my home. I didn’t want to be trapped inside a castle for the rest of my life. “I’m well aware father but - what if they change who I am? What if I no longer act like a Stark?”

“Stark’s don’t go down without a fight. They won’t destroy who you were raised to be. You will always be a Stark of Winterfell just like our words will always reign true.” My father Rickon coughed into his sleeve keeping a brave face when he spoke so strongly to me.

I recited our family words like it was a prayer. “Winter is Coming.”

“And we must protect ourselves. You must protect yourself when in their family. I won’t be there to protect you anymore so you must find a way to protect yourself.”

“I love you, father.” Kissing my fathers forehead I heard the chamber door creaking open meaning it was time for me to go to my new home and be wed to a dragon man. I wouldn’t let Kings Landing break me if I had anything to do about it.

Sitting underneath one of the Godswood trees simply reading a book quietly to myself. Flipping the page over I didn’t even notice someone walking up to me so ingrained in mh reading till the person spoke up. “Fancy meeting you here, Lehna.”

“My prince - uh Aemond forgive me. I wouldn’t have imagined you ever taking a stroll in these woods.” I admitted clearing my throat remembering the arrangement we had made about simply addressing each other by their first name with no titles being used.

He teased me with a smirk on his face. “Are you saying a prince cannot have other interests? That we can only be interested in swords and our next fight rather than enjoying a stroll through the trees.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you, my prince. In my experience most men, including my lord husband, don't care much for the scenery.”

Aemond nodded, putting his arms behind his back. “Normally I don’t stroll through the gardens but I thought it would be a good change after sparring in the courtyard. From our conversation the other day with your daughter I have already noted that not too many ladies of the court carry a sword so it seems we’re both even when it comes to not following society's rules.”

Sending him a genuine smile I met his gaze. “I suppose you’re right about that.”

“What are you reading there?” His one good eye not covered with a black eye patch shifting downward to the open book seated in my lap.

“Princess Nymeria led her Rhoynar across the Narrow Sea on 10,000 ships to flee their Valyrian pursuers. She took Lord Mors Martell of Dorne to husband and burnt her own fleet off Sunspear to show her people that they were finished running.”

It was almost hard to catch whenever the prince was actually happy. He was always so reserved and kept a serious composure about himself to act like he felt absolutely nothing. Until this very moment that is when I saw a huge grin cross his features. “The Targaryen histories. What made you want to learn about my family history?”

“You wanted to know about my family. I figured I should do the same since I'm already wed into the Targaryen family. I even thought about trying to teach myself High Valyrian given the fact that Daemon hasn't yet.”

The dragon prince tilted his head. “What has he taught you then?”

“Perfected my ability to use a sword and not ride a horse side saddle like we're taught.” An idea popped inside my head thinking it would be fun to challenge him a little. “Have you ever rode a horse side saddle?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Would you do it if I dared you?”

He was clearly taken back by my question. “What are you asking me, Lady Lehna?”

“I propose we dare one another and whoever wins the most turns gets to pick what the loser has to do with them. What do you say?” I held up my right hand towards the prince.

He stepped closer, shaking my hand in his firmly. “Deal, lady Stark.”

We left the gardens and made our way through the keep until we ended up first in the kitchen. One of the kitchen workers brought us some hard ale in two big goblets before leaving me and the prince alone. Aemond reached for his cup being the first one to suggest a dare challenge. “Whoever can finish the whole thing wins.”

“Three, two, one, go!” I cheered and together we began quickly drinking from our separate cups at the same time. Daemon had me drink some ale in the city streets but never this quickly so I had to stop having a little bit left before I watched Aemond slam his remaining liquor down. “Seven hells! How can you do that so fast?”

He sat the cup down holding a hand to his head feeling a little dizzy from that much liquor. “Aegon had me get drunk with him when we became of age. I managed to do that for two rounds before it made me quite sick. I’ll never do something that ridiculous ever again - oh and it appears I’ve won.”

“Fine, fine, yes you win. Now it’s my turn.” Getting up from the chair I ran from the kitchen and he followed me to my chambers. Letting him inside my chambers where I shut the door and headed over rummaging around in my clothing closet grabbing a pair of heels that I assume might fit. “Put these on and try to walk from the door to the window.”

Aemond scowled back at me, eyeing the heels hanging from my hand. “I will not put those ridiculous shoes on.”

“Would you rather attempt to do needle work and prick your fingers a bunch of times?” I challenged him. “Or are you a chicken refusing to do either.”

Aemond glared at me with one good eye. “Watch your words.”

“You weren't hurt me, not intentionally anyway.” I responded surprisingly not afraid of him putting his hands on me. “There’s a good person in you from where I'm standing.”

He crossed the room taking the heels from my hand and undoing his boots slipping them on. He stumbled across the room and fell on his knees hallway in the middle where he gave up causing me to laugh before he glanced over his shoulder at me. “You win, Stark. But don't you ever tell anyone about this.” I helped him up off the ground and he switched back to his shoes waiting outside the room for me to change into a tunic and trousers rather than attempting to fight in a gown.

We had one more challenge given that it was whoever won out of the three. Aemond and I had agreed on the last one being sword fighting given that me speaking good High Valyrian would take far too long and he’d obviously win. He drew his sword first before I drew mine and we got into a fighting stance. We took some swings that caused our swords smack against each other before gently shoves me backwards in the training yard. "What would the people of court think about this? A highborn lady fighting their prince?" I grunt, taking another swing at him.

He swung back circling me to make our sword press against one another for a moment. "I don't care what the court public think and neither should you." He steps back a little sword still raised as I get back in a fighting stance.

I raise my sword trying to strike him but he lightly elbows me in my side to strike me from below. I switch my sword to my left hand for a moment to knock him away. "Your form is better than I thought it would be."

"Thanks -uh!" I grunted out, pressing my sword against his. He pressed his sword against mine, never losing gaze with mine.

He started to loosen his hold on his sword when we pushed the other back but suddenly he knocked my sword from my left hand, knowing we both are dominant in our right hands. I dodge his next attack to reveal a dagger from inside my boot and block his sword coming down on me.

"Impressive, very impressive indeed." He parts his lips when I push his sword down getting up from being on my knees.

“Thanks for the compliment. But you still are a better swordsman than I, so you win. Two for two. So what will we be doing?” I slipped the dagger hidden back into my hidden spot.

Aemond stepped closer to me with both our swords swaying when our bodies moved. His eye lowered down to meet my soft eyes as he softly whispered. “Have you ever rode on Dragonback?’

“No, I haven’t.” I nervously gulped not sure if he was being serious or not.

Aemond simply replies. “Then that's what I want to do with you. I want you to ride Veghar with me.”

[winter-soldier-101]

You are not her! Part 8

Word count:1177

Warning⚠️ 18+ talk of assault and sexual assault 

“Rhaenyra I think it best you stay here another day I fear father won’t be with us soon” (Y/N) tells Rhaenyra.

“Why? What is happening (Y/N)?” Rhaenyra asks you.

“I’ve had dreams and I’ve seen what is to happen if you leave. I saw death and felt the pain of seeing it. I need you and your family here” (Y/N) tells Rhaenyra.

“I will stay here (Y/N)” Rhaenyra tells you.

“We need to be close to our father” (Y/N) tells Rhaenyra.

The passing of King Viserys

Alicent stood by as (Y/N) and Rhaenyra took care of Viserys. Alicent got the tea and was about to give it to Viserys.

“What are you doing?” Rhaenyra asks

“Rhaenyra he needs it” (Y/N) tells her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry you wanted to know if I believe it to be true” Viserys says.

“What to be true, My King?” Alicent asks.

“The Song of Ice and Fire Aegon's dream” (Y/N) tells Rhaenyra as they both sit on the bed near their father.

“I’d thought you remember Aegon his dream the sacrifice you’ll find it is true what he saw in the North the prince that was promised the prince to unite the realm against the cold and dark it is you, you are the one you must do this my little dragons Rhaenyra and (Y/N)” Viserys says as both girls let the tears fall Alicent looks at both and asks.

“The dream that Aegon the conqueror had before he took the the Seven Kingdoms his dream is why we rule and why Rhaeynra is heir and Queen and Alicent if you or your father tries to usurp the throne I will kill both of you so don’t try it Rhaenyra stay with father I have something to do” (Y/N) says as she leaves the room.

(Y/N) makes her way to Otto Hightowers chambers with her loyal guards behind her as she opens his doors.

“Otto Hightower, my father will not make it through the night and I’m here to tell you that you are no longer needed here guards take him to the black cells” (Y/N) commands the knights as they take Otto.

“Make sure the Queen stays in her room and don’t let anyone in till I tell you otherwise to your face” (Y/N) tells the knight.

(Y/N) walks back to Viserys’s room and as he is taking his last breath with Rhaenyra by his side.

“Oh… my Aemma… my love” Viserys says as he takes his last breath.

“Rhaenyra” (Y/N) says softly as she holds her and they both cry.

“Ser Harwin is here and he will watch over fathers body till morning” (Y/N) tells her.

The next morning

(Y/N) walks the halls till she reaches Rhaenyra’s room and opens the door and tells her it’s time.

(Y/N) had gathered her siblings and their children and members of the small council and people filed The Red Keep and (Y/N) addressed the people.

“It saddens me to say my father and King passed away last night in his sleep with myself and Rhaenyra by his side” (Y/N) tells the masses.

(Y/N) takes her fathers crown and puts it on Rhaenyra’s head.

“Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen first of her name Queen of the Andals the Rhoynar and the first men Lady of the Seven Kingdoms protector of the Realm” (Y/N) says as everyone clapped and cheered for her.

The dinner

“Where is my father?” Alicent asks (Y/N).

“He’s in the black cells; he will be let out soon and he will be sent back to Old Town”(Y/N) tells Alicent.

“Why is he there (Y/N)?” Alicent asks.

“He wanted to take the Throne for my sister and I was not going to let that happen. Alicent that’s why you were all locked in your rooms for a little while” (Y/N) tells Alicent.

Alicent looks at you with wide eyes before continuing eating.

“My husband will be here soon Rhaenyra and I will be here for some time with him here but we will leave soon after” (Y/N) tells Rhaenyra.

“Who is your husband?” Daemon asks.

���My husband is Cregan Stark the Lord of Winterfell” (Y/N) says.

“How did you come to marry him?” Daemon asks.

“I flew North with the twins. I wanted to see the North again and I met him and his sister and his new born son and his wife had passed away and we talked and we grew to love each other and married” (Y/N) says.

Daemon didn’t look too happy that you’ve moved on and found love.

Rhaenyra looks at you and smiles “I’m happy that you’ve found love sister”

“Thank you Rhaenyra” (Y/N) says smiling at her sister.

(Y/N) and Rhaenyra were left alone.

“I could never forgive Daemon and Laena and you” (Y/N) tells Rhaenyra.

“I understand that I’ve hurt you by being with him and loving him and for that I’m sorry” Rhaeynra tells you.

“I know Rhaenyra and you can’t help who you love but he hurt and broke me and I will never forgive him for that” (Y/N) tells Rhaenyra.

Harwin knocks on the door and (Y/N) leaves them alone to speak alone as (Y/N) walks back to her room.

“Why him?” A voice says as you close the door to your room.

“What? Why are you in my room Daemon?” (Y/N) asks Daemon.

“Answer me why him?” Daemon yells out at you.

“Because he loves me and cares for me and he loves my children as his own” (Y/N) tells Daemon.

Daemon looks at you and stands up and grabs your face and pulls you close.

“You are mine not matter what you may think you are never going to be free of me (Y/N)” Daemon says holding your face close before pushing you on the bed and pulling at your clothes and starts to kiss you and pull down his pants he starts to force himself into you and on you as you cry out and yell for help but on one came to help.

“Let’s see what your wolf thinks when you have another one of my bastards” Daemon says laughing while walking out of your room not noticing Rhaenyra and Harwin standing their as they finally hear your cries and see Daemon pulling up his pants and they see you laying in the bed Rhaenyra walks up to Daemon and slaps him as Harwin tries to pull her away (Y/N) gets up and grabs the dagger from the table and runs at Daemon and stabs him over and over as he begs for you to stop but you don’t till he stops moving and you drop the dagger and fall to the floor and cry out as Rhaenyra pulls away from Harwin and runs to you and holds you crying.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry” Rhaenyra cry’s out to you.

Taglist: @secretdreamlandmentality @malynn @stargaryenx @urmomsgirlfriend1 @splaterparty0-0 @siriusdumblittlepuppy @devils-blackrose @thefandomimagines @impartinghades @immyowndefender @melissarose234 @lazyotakujen @whitejuliana1204 @elizad @thanyatargaryen @afro-hispwriter @aegon-andaemondtargaryenslut18 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @hc-geralt-23 @snh96 @animelover18 @danielle-leah1997 @angeliod @lightdragonrayne @talkdiffently6 @yeah-just-a-fan @1950schick @billiesbeans @daemyratwst @impartinghades @nats-whore @dc-marvel-girl96 @noname2246 @targaryenmoony @scarlettqueen190 @slutmeoutsworld @ivanna6026

[novaursa]

eek! Hope I'm not too late! it's already 30th here!

If you'd write for Tyrion plz could I get a x wife!reader where she takes care of him (running him a warm bath, massages, pain relieving tea etc) when he has a particularly bad pain flare up?

As someone who knows first hand what chronic pain is like I know all too well how difficult it is to accept help at times, even when you probably need it, and I get the strong impression that Tyrion would be more stubborn than most, but sometimes its nice to have just one person that you trust enough to let help.

For Better or Worse

Requests are closed!

- Summary: Tyrion is in pain and refuses to admit it. But you are stubborn as any Stark.

- Paring: stark!reader/Tyrion Lannister

- Note: The reader was married to Tyrion instead of her sister, Sansa.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

You watch Tyrion from the corner of your eye, his movements slow and careful. His usual swagger seems muted tonight, replaced with an uncharacteristic stiffness. He’s trying to hide it, of course—sipping his wine a bit too quickly, cracking a joke that lacks its usual bite—but you’ve known him long enough to notice the way his hand clenches around the arm of his chair, the way his brow furrows when he thinks no one’s watching.

It’s one of those nights. The kind where his pain flares up, gnawing at him like an uninvited guest.

“Tyrion,” you call softly, approaching him with the kind of ease you know won’t set him off. “Are you all right?”

He glances at you, offering a smirk that’s meant to reassure. “Ah, my sweet wolf, ever the doting wife. I’m fine. Really.”

You narrow your eyes, not buying it for a moment. “You’re terrible at lying, you know that?”

“Is that what they say in Winterfell? In the South, we call it ‘selective honesty.’” He chuckles, but it’s short-lived, and you catch the wince he tries to mask with a sip of wine.

You sigh, crossing your arms. “You’re in pain.”

Tyrion waves a dismissive hand. “A minor inconvenience. Nothing to worry your pretty head over.”

“Right.” You give him a look that says you’re not leaving it alone. “You’ve been shifting in that chair for the past hour like it’s full of splinters. When was the last time you had some relief for your back?”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by your persistence. “Relief, you say? Are you offering, my dear?”

“Don’t distract me.” You step closer, laying a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension knotting under your fingers. “Let me help.”

Tyrion sighs, but there’s a softness in his eyes that betrays him. “I appreciate the offer, truly, but I’m fine. I’m not some frail thing in need of coddling.”

“I know that. But even the smartest man in Westeros needs a bit of care now and then.” You kneel beside him, looking up at him with a determined glint. “Please, Tyrion. Let me make you some tea, draw you a bath… do something.”

He huffs, leaning back in his chair with exaggerated annoyance. “You’re as stubborn as a mule, you know that?”

“Must be the Northern blood,” you quip with a grin. “Come on, just this once. You don’t have to be so damn proud.”

Tyrion stares at you for a long moment, his defenses slowly crumbling. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

“Gods, how did I end up marrying the one Stark who’s more persistent than the Other?”

You smile triumphantly and start preparing the tea. In the dim light of your chambers, the soft clinking of the teapot fills the silence. The scent of herbs wafts through the room, soothing in itself, and you bring the steaming cup to him.

“Drink this,” you command gently, “and then I’m running that bath.”

He gives you a mock scowl. “You’re bossier than I anticipated when I married you.”

“And you’re more stubborn than I anticipated,” you shoot back, gently pushing the cup into his hands. He takes it with a resigned sigh and drinks, the warmth seeming to ease him a little.

When the bath is ready, you help him out of his clothes, Tyrion muttering something about feeling like an old man. You ignore the remark, guiding him into the warm water with a care that surprises even him.

“This is… oddly nice,” he admits after a long silence, the tension in his shoulders beginning to melt away. “I might have to make a habit of this.”

“Only if you promise not to be so difficult about it next time.”

Tyrion grins. “No promises.”

Once he’s soaked long enough, you coax him out, wrapping a soft towel around him before guiding him to the bed. He watches you with an expression caught somewhere between appreciation and disbelief, like this kind of tenderness is foreign to him.

“Turn around,” you instruct as you straddle the edge of the bed behind him. He raises a brow but does as you ask.

Your hands move to his back, gently kneading the knotted muscles, feeling the way his body tenses and then slowly starts to give in to your touch. He sighs, a sound of relief that’s almost inaudible.

“You’re too good at this,” he mutters. “You should charge me. A Lannister always pays his debts, after all.”

“Consider it part of the marriage agreement,” you tease, your fingers working into another knot. “For better or worse, remember?”

“I recall something along those lines.” He shifts slightly, his voice softer now. “You’re a patient woman, you know. More than I deserve.”

“I think you deserve a bit of care,” you say quietly. “Whether you believe it or not.”

Tyrion is silent for a moment, letting your words sink in. “You’re… far kinder than I expected, marrying a Lannister.”

You press a kiss to the back of his neck, feeling him relax further under your touch. “Well, you’re not just any Lannister.”

“Flattery,” he mutters, but there’s a warmth to his voice. “It might work.”

It’s a quiet moment, one that feels both intimate and oddly vulnerable, but there’s an ease to it, too. For all his bluster and pride, you know that beneath it all, Tyrion is simply a man who’s not used to being taken care of.

And tonight, you’re more than happy to remind him that he doesn’t always have to carry everything on his own.

[moseslikellamas]

Thorn of Winterfell pt.4

Pairing - Stark!OC x Benjicot Blackwood

Summary - Harrenhal shenanigans!!

Warnings - graphic depictions of violence, lore™️, sketchy depictions of medieval hierarchies, blood, death, depictions of shock, dubious battle mechanics.

Word count- 2.1k

We’re back! Sorry for the delay work is crazy rn. But yay, Harrenhall time!

It was guaranteed that Syana was going to run into the Blackwood lord, as he spent every moment awake in the yard eager to bash some unlucky souls head in. This morning it was hers. She could tell he’d been up for a while, his back was soaked through with sweat. She wondered if he had thoughts in his head or if he just felt the urge to hit something with his sword all the time.

“Care for a flesh opponent?” She asked and he swung around so quickly it startled her. His sword inches away from her face.

Seeing it was only her, he dropped his arm. Sheathing his sword before wiping the sweat from his forehead with his equally as drenched shirt. Then he tossed her a wooden sword. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“You want to keep your sword up, you work on arm strength.”

She barely managed to block the first blow he threw at her.

“No warning when the enemy wants your blood on his hands.”

She blocked several more but missed twice as many. Hissing when the wooden sword would hit her skin, she knew she would be bruised.

“Stop watching my feet, it doesn’t matter where I’m moving. Anticipate that I’ll come from anywhere. You have to block it or you're dead!”

Syana was starting to break a sweat herself as she parried and blocked against his never ending onslaught of blows. He kept pressing forward relentlessly and managed to knock her leg out from under her with a nasty blow to her knee. She was sprawled out on the ground, chest heaving only a second before having to scramble away from the blow that nearly clocked her in the head. She gritted her teeth and pressed onward despite the screaming pain in her leg.

She could not say how long they fought, circling each other. Only that her arms began to shake and she struggled to keep her sword up when he handed her a heavier wooden blade.

“Come on, this one’s almost as heavy as your real sword. Get it up, all the way!”

His voice was grating beyond belief a mix of jeering condescension and a victorious gravitas that drove her mad with anger. Pushing through the tremors in her muscles, she pulled the sword back up to the proper position. When the first blow hit, he knocked the sword clean out of her hands. Then using his own leg, swept hers out from under her again.

“Poor form, terrible sense of awareness.” He said from above her before offering her his hand and pulling her up with too much force, nearly sending her sprawling in the other direction.

“I don’t know how you’re still alive.”

She spat a wad of blood out of her mouth where he had busted the inside of her lip.

“Join me at the archery range and I’ll be glad to show you up.”

Looking around Syana was shocked to see a noticeable crowd had grown around them.

“Doubt you’ll be able to pull right now.” He said half laughing as she tried to pick the wooden sword back up, only to drop it again.

She didn’t get a chance to respond before several eager men took her place, plucking the sword up and starting the exercise with the lord. She stood back, one hand holding her bruised ribs while she watched him take on another set of three like it was nothing. He seemed inhuman the way he never tired. After he defeated the first set he continued on even after she had limped her way to the archery range.

It took her a good while for every part of her body to stop throbbing with pain but she was determined not to quit. She stood there for ages, pulling and loosing arrows. The only sound alive to her was the soft whump of the arrows embedding themselves in the target. It was meditative to her and helped bring her mind back to a focused center. The castle around them was eerie, she could feel the shadow of something that wasn’t right roaming the halls even outside in the yard. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end without reason and the hand her brother slapped on her shoulder made her jump.

“I take it you found another sparring partner?” Cregan looked tired but jovial as he surveyed the targets in front of her.

Syana followed his gaze and was shocked to see arrows in every target lined up. She hadn’t remembered moving targets.

“I dunno that you could call it that brother. More like I got my ass handed to me by that freak of nature.” She nodded towards where the young lord was still going at it.

But her brother had only frowned at that. “Blackwoods are strange people.”

She had to agree with him there. “No stranger still than this castle.” She was gazing up at the melted towers, she could swear she saw something moving in one of them but it was gone in a flash. “The riverlands are a queer place, have you seen their heart tree?”

Syana had only caught a glimpse on the march in, but the face had been a horror so unlike the one back at Winterfell that it filled her with a terrible dread. It was different from the cold empty feeling the dead tree at Raventree Hall had given her. The tree seemed too alive here, watching them closely.

“You’ve been listening to our mother's tall tales for too long, sister.”

His heart was not in the jest though and she had shook her head. “The old gods are closer here in the damp air, I think. Their blood runs hotter.”

“And their roots grow deep.” He nodded along with her. “We should keep a close eye on them here. Weird magic is in these walls. We don’t need them fighting amongst themselves before the enemy arrives.”

At his words the yard was cast into momentary darkness as the prince flew overhead. Syana was on the move long before he landed. Cregan did not follow her as she approached the gate. She waited anxiously for Jacaerys to appear, bouncing on the tips of her toes as she did. The gate was pulled open at last with a loud groaning clank and the prince strode through. He didn’t look any happier than before they had set out.

“Anything of note, my prince?” She asked, striding up to walk beside him.

“Nothing. Just as we hoped, they turned back and have yet to meet up with another host.”

That was good news. It meant they had time to prepare before the enemy would arrive and try to take the castle, a foolish move.

“And your uncle?”

At that question Jacaerys exhaled irritated. “He flies above, he wanders below inside the castle walls. He avoids me at all costs. I cannot catch him.”

Syana was struggling to keep up with the punishing pace the prince had set. Her ribs were screaming in agony by the time they reached the yard.

“We will make the most of it with or without him. Help me keep the riverlanders from ripping each other to pieces before the lannisters have a chance will you?”

He finally slowed down at that, pinning her with a piercing stare. “You think there’s dissent among them?”

She crossed her arms staring back. “I think this castle is a queer place to store an army. It’s unnatural, a cursed environment. We should all be wary of how this place affects us.”

Jacaerys took her words seriously, in his time up north he’d seen enough to know the truth in what she was saying. Beyond that he was a dragonrider, if anyone could sense magic she assumed it was him.

“Do you think perhaps Daemon-?” He trailed off looking at her inquisitively.

“I think you should write to your mother, I’d feel better with at least one true adult aware of our situation.”

Surrounded by young, eager, reckless men made her nervous. Ser Dustyn was a fine man but he wasn’t exactly the most politically savvy and knew even less of magic. The rest of the men around him lacked any life experience, they were all too young. It made her feel like they were all winging it, freefalling towards whatever fate might become them. Queen Rhaenyra wasn’t old by any means but Syana knew she was a lot wiser than the bloodthirsty fiends around them.

Prince Jacaerys hadn’t bothered to respond, just left, walking twice as fast as he had been on the way up. She felt exhausted just looking at him. Maybe the blood of the dragon gave them an unnatural energy. It made sense to her, riding on dragonback had to be exhausting. She slowly followed behind him, cursing Harren the Black for the grand staircase that led up from the yard to the main keep. The stairs were made of a black stone that shined like oil in the sun and was oddly slick under her feet. The castle inside was worse, dark and damp.

She limped slowly up the spiraling stone staircase to the room she had been given. She tried three times to relight the torches on her walls before she gave up. Instead she placed several more pieces of wood on the fire and grabbed a thick cloak. The walls seemed to leach every bit of warmth from her body. She did not linger long in the room, feeling uneasy. Instead she’d donned the cloak and set out on finding her brother. She wanted them both to go visit the godswoods here. She needed to get a better look at the heart tree here, the gnarled face replaying in her mind's eye as she walked.

Perhaps her brother was right, and she had been listening to her mother’s stories too much, but she didn’t think so. The castle was possessed by something even if it was just the horrible energy that had been poured into it as it was built. The hundreds of souls that died here imbued the walls with their memories of misery. Walking along the halls, she found herself wishing the enemy would show up soon. She would rather deal with the real tangible threat than the psychic magical threat that would wreak havoc on the minds of the many men encased in the walls.

The ceiling of the castle was too far away to be natural, she decided as she walked. It stretched impossibly tall and she was never quite sure where it ended. Sometimes an odd torch would be lit up high and it would shatter whatever illusion she had about the height of it. Engrossed in her observations she forgot all about finding her brother and before she knew it her feet had led her into the broken part of the castle that opened into the gods wood.

The godswood here was the largest she had ever seen and possibly was the largest in all of Westeros if she had to guess. The trees were tall and stretched high, creating a dense canopy that made the underside dark. She walked the short way into the trees and towards the creek in front of the heart tree. The roots were sprouting up and over the bank of the creek, stretching down into the water in a mass of writhing limbs. She approached slowly, taking her time to admire the full tree. The leaves were huge, larger than her head and in the breeze they grasped, pulling at each other desperately. The eyes of the tree were weeping a thick red sap in an uninterrupted stream that flowed into the water below it. The mouth was open in a silent scream of agony beneath the crimson tears. Syana reached a hand out, her fingers brushing against the coarse white bark.

“It's a bit late to be wandering the godswood alone in a strange castle now, isn’t it?”

Syana turned around to see a woman with dark hair smirking back at her. She frowned at the woman, confused. When did the sun set? She had only just walked out here, hadn’t she?

“Lost track of time I suppose.” She replied, turning back to stare at the weirwood tree behind her. The creek itself was all red, dyed by the sap of the tree. When she turned back to the woman she was gone and a thick fog had settled over the forest of trees.

“Strange place indeed.” Syana muttered to herself as she quickly walked to exit the trees.

Overhead the caws of a crow sounded as it flew across the bay to Dragonstone.

Taglist: @drwho-ess

[esther-dot]

do you think sansa x willas could still happen? i read somewhere that grrm said that he wished willas (among with other characters) was in the show bc him and garlan are going to be in the last two books

I didn’t remember that quote anon, but I’m quite intrigued by it:

Before we get carried away though, just above it he mentions Jeyne Poole:

(link)

Obviously, we loved seeing Jeyne again, and she’s a big part of Theon’s story in ADWD, the belief that Ramsay has Arya is important to the Northern Lords and Jon, but we don’t actually get much of Jeyne in there? Lots of impact on the Northern plot, but I didn’t get major vibes for her, her story, and seeing that…well, kinda makes me worry about when he talked about having plans for Rickon and that it might be something similar. Less about him as a character, more about his existence impacting the plot in big ways (Northern succession crisis). So I think we must be very careful when trying to figure out his plans based on his interviews, he’s kinda operating on a different wavelength than we do. I’d imagine that part of needing to have preexisting characters around is making King Bran believable, having lords who might choose him to be their leader will be important in selling that ending imo.

As for a Sansa/Willas romance, I really do think Sansa goes North and that she’s pivotal in getting LF’s head stuck on Winterfell’s walls. We have two prophecies (girl in grey, maid slaying a "giant") and Sansa building Winterfell out of snow and sticking a dolls head on the walls which all seem to be leading there. Once she’s in Winterfell again, I can’t imagine her wanting to leave Winterfell, even if the idea of a betrothal is floated later? Willas was an escape from Lannisters so she quickly romanticized the possibility of marrying him, but once she is home, nothing will feel safer. And whether Jon, Rickon, or Bran is KitN, no matter who appears first or is recognized as head of House Stark, (and I still hold out hope for QitN Sansa!), I can’t imagine one of them forcing her to, not after what she’s been through. I think the surviving heroes have to evolve past previous missteps.

In an AU, Sansa x Willas could be very sweet though! I talked about it some here.

[aegor-bamfsteel]

I really don’t mind Alicent mourning Viserys in the show. Even thought it made sense, I liked how she reacted. It reminded me of my grandmother and her sisters. Their mother was horribly abusive (not gonna mention some of the stuff she did, it turns my stomach) yet all three cried when she died/at the funeral. It always made sense to me

If you found emotional resonance in that scene of Alicent mourning her abuser, I’m not going to tell you you’re wrong (nor could I; your reactions are your own. I’m sorry your grandmother and her family had to go through that.). I just disagree, because it’s so one-sided and out of nowhere to me.

GOT Season 7 had a more balanced take on a woman “mourning” a man who abused her, when Sansa Stark had some moments of reflection by with Arya after the execution of Petyr Baelish.

Baelish was involved in her father’s death, molested her, sold her to be married to the horrific Ramsay Bolton, tried to isolate her from her siblings…yet despite all that, she wasn’t happy when he died. She told Arya, “It’s strange…in his own horrible way, I think he loved me” while acknowledging with Arya’s prompting, that she was right to sentence him to death as the Lady of Winterfell. She acknowledges that Baelish’s “love” for her was messed up, and that she needs to put her whole faith in the Starks, who love her unconditionally. And this is Season 7, acknowledged as one of the weakest seasons of the series (contrast Season 8 Sansa, who drew criticism for essentially telling Sandor that the abuse she faced made her stronger “I would’ve remained a little bird all my life”).

By contrast, Alicent mourning Viserys:

There’s no dialogue. Alicent watches at the window as the Silent Sisters wrap up desiccated mummy husband, she takes the crown and puts it on his chest, sniffling and crying as she does so. There’s no acknowledgment of the hell he put her through, forcibly wedding her at 15, the marital rape, constant belittlement, refusing to stand up for her and her kids in the face of D&R, almost waiting for her to be implicated in high treason, essentially telling her he views her as a replacement for Aemma. She doesn’t have any of her kids to play off of, as Sansa had Arya; her sons at least either don’t care or even seem amused that Viserys died, and they might be able to bring some balance to her grief. There’s no evidence in the scene that she’s sad for other reasons than Viserys dying, such as an inevitability of war/possible destruction of her family (quickly accomplished by a shot of her looking out the window at idk Helaena and kids playing in the courtyard). Sure, she’s mourning a man who abused her, but there’s no acknowledgment of that abuse, instead playing it off as the death of some great king, which…no.

When S7 of GOT has more nuance put into addressing the trauma of sexual abuse victims than HOTD, it’s time to do some rewrites.

[ladycatofwinterfell]

Father’s gentle hands

Summary: When Ned comes home to Winterfell he gets to feel a child of his kick for the first time.

I realised Ned never felt a baby kick in the womb until Sansa since he was away while Cat was pregnant with Robb and we all know what happened with Jon. So here’s early marriage nedcat fluff and Ned with his kids <33

Ned didn’t know why he felt a slight disappointment at that his wife didn’t meet him in the yard as he returned from Karhold. A moon’s turn he had been gone and though the weather had been unusually stable for that time of year in winter the trip had been no pleasure. Though why he had got through the journey home by imagining Catelyn meeting him as he rode through the gate he didn’t know.

Maybe because she was carrying his child. He had discovered so much happened in a moon’s turn when a woman was with child, surely he had missed something while he was away and he wanted to know what it was. It was the first time he paid so close attention to an unborn child, there seemed to be a lot he didn’t know.

He didn’t remember when his mother had carried his sister and younger brother, he hadn’t been there when Catelyn carried Robb. And Jon… well, he had come after it was all said and done.

“You wouldn’t know where Lady Catelyn is?” he asked the stable boy that took his horse as soon as he had his feet on the ground.

The boy shook his head.

“No, m’lord.”

Before Ned could say anything else a delighted yell could be heard and he turned to find his son running towards him. His absence hadn’t been as long as it felt like, but had Robb still not grown a little taller since Ned last saw him?

With a smile he scooped the boy up in his arms and held him up in the air.

“Father!” Robb squealed.

His little laugh was lovely. How Ned despised being away from home, how he despised not hearing Robb’s laugh for so long. His boy had the sunshine from the south and the north’s resilience.

“Robb!”

“You’re home!”

“Yes, I’m home.”

He put Robb back on the ground again, ruffled his mop of auburn hair with one hand.

“Did you do as I told you and kept the castle safe while I was away?” he asked.

Robb nodded, beaming. The pride would have been obvious from miles away.

“Me too!”

Only then did Jon make his presence known and Ned had to embrace him, as well. Ever the careful one, always a step behind his brother.

“My brave sons” he said as he ruffled Jon’s hair.

When he looked at them both there was a slight sting of sadness over that they could never truly be brothers. Not equal the way trueborn brothers were. Though as long as they were friends and there was no ill will between them he would be happy.

“Robb, do you know where your mother is?” he asked.

Now he had seen two of his children, he wanted to see the third. And he wanted to see Catelyn.

“The sept” Robb told him.

Idyn, the woman who most often attended to the boys, lengthened the answer a little.

“Lady Stark told me to bring your son to meet you as you arrived” she said. “She was busy.”

Ever since she found out she was with child Catelyn had prayed several times every day, and wouldn’t sway from that. It was most important to turn to the gods to keep the babe healthy, she had told him when he asked her.

“I’ll take the boys if you want to go to her, m’lord” Idyn then continued.

“That would be good, Idyn. Thank you.”

He would rather not set foot inside the sept though he could meet her outside.

Robb protested and wouldn’t agree to go with Idyn and Jon before Ned promised he would come to them afterwards. It was time for supper soon, he wanted nothing but to sup with his family after so long away from them.

So he made his way towards the sept. He was very rarely there, only when he needed Catelyn for something and she was there. He had been in there no more than twice since it was finished. That was her place, as the godswood was his. He needed not invade.

He felt like a fool when he stood there outside and did nothing but wait. People passed him, some looked like they wanted to ask what he was doing, but no one did. They just nodded towards him, said a polite greeting. Even though it wasn’t long he had to wait there it felt like an eternity.

Though all that was forgotten when the doors opened and Lady Catelyn stepped outside. The smile that lit up her face when she saw him made it all worth it.

“My lord” she said. “Do forgive me for not coming to you immediately, I was in the middle of my prayers.”

Just as he had suspected she had grown rounder since last he saw her, it was obvious even with all the clothing she wore to keep the cold off. It happened so quickly.

“There is nothing to forgive, my lady.”

She came to him and he got to lean down and kiss her cheek. The scent of her, of sweet flowers. He dared not embrace her, didn’t know if she wanted it, but as he straightened up again she took his hand, weaved their fingers together.

It made his heart flutter and he saw how a slight blush covered her cheeks.

“I’m happy to see you home” she said softly.

The sound of her voice was as lovely as she was.

“I’m happy to be home” he said to her.

If he had any luck there would be at least some time before he had to leave again.

“I believe our babe agrees.”

He didn’t have time to ask what she meant by that before she had moved his hand to rest against her stomach, putting her hand on top of it. And he felt a slight pressure against his palm from below it.

“It’s kicking” he said.

He heard himself how stupid it sounded when he said it with such wonder, but it was hard to care when he felt his child moving beneath his hand.

Never before had he felt a child of his moving before it was born. The world seemed to slow, he held his breath and his heart beat hard against his ribcage. When he thought of what he would return to during his travel he hadn’t even considered that. Yet it was as exciting, if not even more, as the rest of it. It was as if he had not truly realised he would have another child until then and there. He would once again be a father, his child was alive. It was there, kicking.

“It happened for the first time just a few days after you left, it’s stronger now” Catelyn told him.

The look on her face was as proud as Robb’s had been earlier.

Once again she weaved their fingers together, that time while his hand was splayed across her stomach. The kicking ceased and came to a stop, but the feeling in Ned’s chest didn’t do the same.

“Our child is strong” he said.

The feeling made his voice sound weird.

“It is” she agreed.

She looked at him and she looked so happy, her eyes sparkling. He must have been smiling back at her, it felt like he did.

When he kissed her she kissed him in return, raised a hand to his cheek. She was so soft, the mother of his children. Several children, two of them.

Her cheeks had turned even redder when they parted and she turned her face downwards. But she didn’t seem unhappy in any way, and her hand remained on his even as the child didn’t kick anymore.

“Every time I have felt it kick I have longed for when I would get to share it with you” she mumbled.

“Is that so?”

Catelyn had longed for him, longed to let him feel their child moving.

She glanced up at him, her eyes still gleaming.

“When I carried Robb you weren’t with me, now you are. I want to share what I can with you.”

“Now I’ll be here.”

He knew he couldn’t promise to always be there, that he wouldn’t have to leave again, but he also knew he wanted what she could share. He wanted to be there. With her and Robb and Jon and the child.

“I was going to eat a small something, would you keep me company?” she asked.

“That I would gladly do, I’m feeling a little hungry myself.”