#cregan fancast

[lunallaa]

Why do some people refuse to accept Tom Taylor as Cregan Stark and keep using that fuckass fancast (lighthearted)

[slut4starks]

can u write a jon snow fic where he’s lord commander (ofc) and him and reader were in a fwb arrangement! make it filthy and full of tension and make jon very dominating with his lord commander status (on the bed) 😁

can and would love to !! i see reader being olly’s older sister. (season 5 episode 5 scene olly confronts jon about the wildlings but between reader and jon instead would be full of tension and explain why she’s allowed at the wall lol) DOM!JON NATION RISEEEEEEE <3 (my masterlist)

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Moment’s Silence (Common Tongue) Jon Snow ⚔︎ F!Reader

Rating: NSFW/smut Warning: dom!jon, sub!reader, fwb, angst, HEAVY TRIGGER WARNING: parental death rip olly’s parents Summary: Jon is Lord Commander. He only lords his title over you in bed. Especially after your first fight. You disagree about making peace with Wildings. He reminds you who’s in charge. Notes: Olly’s older sister!reader, an archer around Jon’s age, set S5 E5, au?? YGRITTE MY GIRL rip dies before canon in this

“View the deed as power’s creed, as pure authority, this moment’s silence when my baby puts the mouth on me…”

“If you have something you want to say to me, say it. It’s all right.” Jon claimed, calmly, at first. He knew you were beyond livid with him, still. Seeing how hard and angrily you slammed shut the heavy door to his candlelit study you stormed into.

Since Lord Commander Snow gave his last order a few days ago, you were so enraged with him. You started sleeping alone again in your chambers. For the first time since sleeping with Jon in his. He gave you your space for a few days he knew you needed. But after nearly one week, he had enough. That day, Snow ordered Olly to bring you to him. You only went knowing avoiding Jon much longer was impossible.

“You don’t mean it, do you? Telling the Wildlings you want to make peace. You’re just doing it to trick them.” You did not ask Jon so much as demand an answer from him.

“It’s not a trick.” Snow sighed sadly, scarcely above a whisper despite knowing that half of the Night’s Watch would hate him.

But they already did. Jon just never wanted you to. He knew what he did hurt you, but it was to protect you, and Olly. Still, Snow hated himself for it. He hoped you could understand why—winter was coming. Understanding why you were mad, Snow stood silently against his desk, letting you yell at him until your lungs quit. Jon hated seeing you cry like that, out of anger.

And not out of pleasure, like he had less than a week ago.

Getting in his handsome but brooding face, you screamed through the tears, “They burned my village! They put an arrow through my father’s head! Right in front of Olly and me! They butchered my mother! Everyone I ever knew!”

Snow stepped closer. Despite you still wearing weaponry and him knowing what you could do with a bow and arrow. You last spoke the day Jon decreed his order to everyone, and you had stormed out of the meeting angrily, to go shoot something in the courtyard outside. No matter how cold it was. As you did—alone—every day since. Still seething.

So was Snow, after three days and nights not touching you.

“I know what it’s like to lose the people you love! I know this is hard for you! But winter is coming! We know what’s coming with it! We can’t face it alone!” Jon rarely raised his voice and lost his temper with you, before. But now you were having your first fight. What Snow said next sounded better in his head, “If they saw the White Walkers—the Army of the Dead— I saw… you know they would understand, your mother and father—”

You slapped Jon. Hard. Across his handsome, black-bearded face. Stronger than you looked, leaving a redhanded handprint, marking him. Slapping Snow only made him angrier, despite knowing he deserved it.

“Don’t talk about them!” You set the boundary as you never wanted to talk about them before. But Jon just desperately wanted you to understand.

“I’m sorry, my love. I deserved that. You’re right, I shouldn’t. I didn’t know them. But they would want you and Olly to live! I’ll never forgive myself if I did not do everything in my power as the Lord Commander to keep you safe!” Snow shouted at you again after apologizing to you. But he had still somehow won the losing battle, as you forgave him.

You blamed his big sad eyes. And how his words moved you. Still, understandably conflicted, and angry at Jon. Not enough to not forgive him, but enough not to right away. And to leave him lonely for the night. Or at least try to.

“You’re damn right you’re sorry! And you’re damn right you deserved that! We shall see if I forgive you. And about making peace with the Wildlings… tomorrow. I would like to sleep on it… alone!” You gave your terms tensely. After yelling your last word, not even Snow’s Valyrian steel sword could cut through the tension that hung heavy and thick between you.

Jon felt his cock grow thick and balls heavy, unable to finish for days without you. Snow strained against his trousers. He had not thought you slapping him would make him hard. But not nearly as hard as the thought of him slapping your pretty face back. You and Jon both felt and saw how hard his cock was pressed up against you, bulging between his hips.

“No! There’s no decision for you to sleep on alone! I know you forgive me! As for the Free Folk, my order is final as Lord Commander!” Jon doubled down and played the title card.

“I’m not one of your crows you can command! Nor a whore you can order to come to your bed!” You felt fire and saw red. But did not mean your next words. Would have in a heartbeat taken them back if you could. Not thinking before just yelling, “I suppose now that you’re Lord Commander Snow you can have your pick of Mole’s Town’s best whores—”

Jon slapped your pretty face back. His cock twitched. Before you could strike him again, Snow snaked his hand around your neck. Choking you like a bruising vice. He left your face hot and pulsing. Like the pooling heat between your thighs. You liked it. But you were not about to tell Jon he had even more power to lord over you. You defiantly doubled down out of spite. Daring him to choke you harder, pressing your hands down over his.

Jon just gave you a wolfish grin, growling in your ear, “I want you, gorgeous. You’re mine. The Lord Commander’s pretty little whore.”

Suddenly, Snow stripped off your weaponry with his hand not choking your throat. Your bow and quiver of arrows he harshly threw across the room, making a mess. Before you could even protest, Jon manhandled you. Making you switch spots, so he pinned up against his desk facing him. All while his hand never stopped choking you harder.

“I’m not anybody’s whore, Snow—” You managed to get out, choked. Lying as his whore was exactly what you wanted to be.

Your chest was pressed up flush against his. Underneath the seams of your corseted bodice, your breasts being squeezed into your dress made him ache beyond all belief. Jon may as well have been drooling from how hungrily he eye-fucked you, up and down.

“My gods… you’re so fucking gorgeous. And you will come to bed—not alone… with me. You’re the Lord Commander’s whore. You will address me properly. That’s an order.” Snow snarled low, livid, and lustfully in your ear. Correcting how you addressed him, his blood hot as fire.

“What makes you think I’ve even missed coming to your bed, Lord Commander?” You teased defiantly. Your words strained, but still dripping with lewd lust.

“Good girl, following my order. And I know you miss my bed because you sound like my pleasured little whore whenever I touch you.” Jon rasped in his Northern accent. He leaned in.

Desperately, you gave into his hungry kiss. Snow’s starving lips and tongue tasted like ale, attacking your mouth. He still choked you. Jon bit your bottom lip between his teeth. Snow suddenly stopped shoving his tongue down throat. Without a warning, Snow spun you around. Pressing your back against his chest, he pinned between him and the table. Roughly, Jon bent you over his desk he cleared quickly, making more mess carelessly. Your cheek Snow slapped still burned, now pressed against cold, hard wood. Jon’s hard cock bulged against your ass. His hand held down the back of your neck. And his other pinned down your lower back.

“No, I don’t!” You whined, your cheek squished against the desk muffling your words a bit. But he heard you. And was far from happy to hear you keep being a brat, “And how do you know I’m not faking it, Lord Commander?”

You could barely see Jon out the corner of your eye. But you could hear his heavy, enraged breathing. Snow tossed layers of your skirts up over your thinly clothed ass. You sucked a sharp breath in. Felt your exposed flesh crawling with goose bumps. Before he slapped your ass even harder than he had your face. Not giving you a second to recover from the pain, Jon reached down to circle your cunt. His fingers felt how soaked the thin fabric was. Snow cursed and pulled the cloth aside. Exposing your slick cunt. You could hear how greedily you took two of his fingers inside your folds, pushing your hips back into him. His desk you marked with your nails by clawing down his desk. You yelled out whorishly from a mix of pleasure and pain. His other hand spanked your ass again. Somehow even harder than the time before. But you had proved his point.

“That’s how I know you’re not faking. Haven’t even used my tongue down there yet. Do you want me to kiss you there, put my mouth on you?” Jon jeered in a mean, mocking tone. You two never fucked with that much tension before as just friends hooking up whenever you had the chance. “If you do, I order you to beg, gorgeous.”

You did not know what else to do in that tense situation other than submit to him. Usually dominant in battle leading archers. But you wanted to be submissive for Snow. Not just liking, but loving it. Needing it even. He could tell by your cunt clenching tightly around his fingers. Jon quickly added a third, not giving you time to adjust. Your mewling moans got higher and more desperate as Snow stretched you out.

“Please, gods! I’m begging for your tongue… kiss me down there… please put your mouth on me, Lord Commander!” You whined with want. Not able to do anything at all or even move.

Bent over the table at Jon’s mercy. The man did not know his own strength. Snow started stripping you of that teasing damn dress. But tore it off you instead. Ripped right down the center of the bodice. Your breath hitched—he was in a fuck-mad rage. Tossing the torn gown to the ground, Jon did the same to your torn underwear he dropped to the floor. He kept your now bare body bent over his desk. You took a moment to breathe as he got down on his knees.

“I’ll only give you what you want if you’re a good girl. I’ll stop if I don’t hear you say you’re the Lord Commander’s whore.” Snow ordered. Before burying his hungry tongue deep inside of your wet cunt for the first time in days.

“Fuck, yes!” You yelled out, feeling—and hearing—his warm, full lips latch between your legs. Your arms reached around to fist any of Jon’s curls you could. “Your tongue feels so good… gods… please don’t stop! I’m your whore, Lord Commander!”

Your head spun. Despite your face still smushed against his desk. Lips parted, panting. Pleading. Snow sucked on your clit impossibly hard. Crying out louder, Jon buried his head deeper in your gushing cunt. His tongue fucked fast, in and out of your folds, then slow, then fast again. What made you moan loudest he repeated, over and over again. Each louder than the last, as sounds of your sex filled Snow’s study with the wet lapping of his tongue in your cunt as his mouth tried to suck you dry. He spent a quarter hour buried face deep inside your folds, edging you. Your hip bones started to hurt, being bruised by the table. And Jon’s iron grip. His handprint marked your ass with more spanking that left you dripping.

“Gods, your cunt tastes so fucking good, gorgeous…” Snow groaned, lust-drunk. Finally coming up for air after ages, your hair he pulled to make you turn to look at him. His handsome, black-bearded face was wet from your cunt. Jon ran his hand through your sensitive folds again, ordering you taste yourself, “Be a good girl and suck my fingers clean. You made a mess.”

Snow shoved his soaked digits into your mouth. You craned your neck painfully over your shoulder to stare deeply into his eyes. Hungrily he watched how your lips sucked. Jon could not take the aching in his trousers any longer. Stripping off his own clothes, he mumbled, don’t even think about moving an inch. You did not dare. Snow stopped for just a moment. He took in the sight of your naked beauty, bent like a whore over his desk. Dripping folds of your wet cunt on display. Your ass marked by his hand. And pretty face nearly a drooling mess on Jon’s desk. Almost about to whine why Snow suddenly stopped touching you, his hard cock bottomed out inside you without warning.

“Oh, gods!” You dragged your nails down his desk again with one hand. Your other clawed behind you at Jon’s bare muscled chest. “Such a fucking big cock, Lord Commander Snow!”

“Fuck, you’re so tight, gorgeous… cunt’s squeezing me like a vice… feels so fucking good—been too long.” Jon groaned into the nape of your neck he kissed. His chest pressed against yours, pinning you down even harder against the desk as Snow started fucking you finally, with his thick, long length.

Painfully slow, at first. You felt every inch of him move in you. Your walls felt each vein of his hard cock. Cunt clenching tight around him as you had his fingers. Frustrated from Snow not fucking you fast enough. Fucking you so slowly. To keep you submissive as he dominated you. Or at least try to, though the pace did not stay so slow long.

Being a demanding brat again, you ordered him, disregarding his title, “Fuck me faster! Gods, let me fucking come, Jon!”

You tried to fuck yourself on his cock best you could. But the position he had you in, with him pinning you down, bent over his desk, made it impossible. You squirmed under Snow who just laughed dark and domineeringly in your ear.

“My pretty little greedy whore…” Jon growled, slowing down even more until fully stopping. His cock warmed you, refusing moving an inch, making you whine from the fullness. “Did the Lord Commander order his whore to come yet?”

His hand harshly craned your neck around to make you look in his eyes best you could, bent over. You heard and saw Snow spit filthily on your cunt. His other hand you felt more than saw come down between your legs. Spreading your lover’s spit over your sensitive, throbbing clit Jon circled again with his fingers, eliciting a string of whiny moans from you. And a scream after suddenly spanking you again. All while warming you with his cock, still refusing to move until you answered him how he ordered you to.

“No, Lord Commander Snow!” You yelled so submissively. Looking like a complete crying mess around his cock.

Warming your cunt while stretching your walls out. Jon made your mind melt, turning to mush.

“And is that how my whore asks her Lord Commander to fuck her faster?” Snow snarled. Spanking your ass again after you did not answer him, hard for you to talk after nearly losing your voice from Jon making you scream so much. “I asked you another question, gorgeous.”

“Please, please! Fuck me faster… I’m fucking begging you, please, Lord Commander!” You cried out on the verge of hot tears. Snow snaked his hands through your hair.

“Good girl. Now you can come on your Lord Commander’s cock, gorgeous… that’s an order.” Jon growled in your ear as his broad shoulders pinned yours against his desk. He wrapped your hair around his hand.

Holding it tight in his iron grip. He pulled so hard you winced.

Snow started roughly rutting deep into you. At an animalistic stamina, screaming his name whorishly. Jon bit your shoulder. Before he marked your skin, sucking so hard he left lovebites on the side of your neck. Over and over again, lewd sounds of Snow’s skin slapped yours. He harshly fucked fast, in and out of your wet folds. Filling you as the sound filled both your ears and Jon’s candlelit study. Scratching down his desk again, you cried out from a mind melting mix of pleasure and pain. Snow still spanked and edged you, denying your release. He wiped away stray tears escaping your eyes screwed shut in pleasure. Jon loved seeing you cry like that, out of pleasure. And not out of anger. After he elicited a filthy string of your highest, loudest moans yet, you started clenching even harder around his cock.

He hit the exact spot you needed. Again and again. Until you could not last any longer, “Fucking hells… I’m going to come, Lord Commander!”

You screamed so loud, your filthy cries rung in his head like a bell. Tension you felt forming in deep pit inside you filled to the brim. Spilling over, your cunt gushed around Snow’s full cock. Clenching around him with your walls impossibly tight, you felt his cock throb, helping him reach his own orgasm.

“Good girl, gorgeous—good gods, you’re squeezing me so fucking tight! Fuck, love! I’m coming!” Jon howled, humping you into the table, chasing his release, and riding out your own.

Your cunt was overstimulated with too much pleasure. You could not think of anything bent over his desk, with his dick making you dizzy as he railed you. Screaming moans ripped through both your throats as you felt Snow’s cock paint your walls white with his hot seed. Slowing down, he made a mess, mix of your come dripping down your legs. You were as limp as a doll under him on his desk now. All fucked out, your flesh raw from how harshly he dominated you. And you both loved it.

“Now, remind me… who’s in charge, gorgeous?“ Jon asked after he collapsed in his chair by the table. He pulled you onto his lap like a rag doll for a deep, sloppy kiss.

Snow started massaging your sore legs and ass. All you could think to say after he fucked you so hard into submission was, “You are, Lord Commander…”

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[iydiamartinx]

HOTD MOODBOARD

(Alysanne Blackwood)

fancast: kate beckinsale

[prettymuchteddy]

I know I already did my fancast for the Starks in my fic “The Madness of Dragons” but now I can’t stop thinking of them as the Starks 😭

Remy Hii as Cregan Stark

Maria Zhang as Sara Snow

Like Remy has that loner leader vibe while still being charismatic and Maria has a kindness to her while still maintaining a silent strength

[fairysluna]

how am i supposed to not be a whore for this man when he looks like this??? byE

[tinumiel]

The Tale of Lara Dorren and Cregennan of Lod.

"...Cregennan of Lod and Lara Dorren aep Shiadhal, the legendary lovers, torn apart and destroyed by the time of contempt. He was a sorcerer and she was an elf. [...] What might have been the beginning of reconciliation was transformed into tragedy"

—Andrzej Sapkowski, The Time of Contempt.

[ Gaia Weiss as Lara Dorren ] [ Arnas Federavičius as Cregennan of Lod ]

[barbswo]

❝ Half of Cregan’s wild hair was piled into a braid at the back of his head, exposing the scars that stretched from the corner of his left brow all the way up to his skull. The rest of his hair spilled around his naked shoulders, littered with smaller braids and metal beads that hit Cregan’s neck every time he made a quick move. ❞

➴ Luke Evans as Cregan Stark

Excerpt from “Tides”

-l_t_m-

[stark-head]

Just started watching the last kingdom and I get the hype over this man😔‼️‼️

I’m currently gnawing over the phone because of this photo

[0ynes]

my Harry Gilby as Cregan Stark agenda

edit: I know he would be the perfect Jon Snow, but we lost that chance. T-T I can still get him as Cregan or any other character at this point. I just want Harry in ASOIAF.

[misguidedasgardian]

Lord please bring Rey's father aka Billy Howle as Cregan Stark

They is certainly a choice! I do see him with a beard (I don’t know why it had to have a beard 😂) Cregan Stark is on the young side and I can see the appeal

I do appreciate the “icing blue eyes” 😍😍

[entitled-fangirl]

Stubborn man.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: Cregan returns from a hunt, eager to see his wife. But he's hiding something from her.

Warnings: blood, making out, pain, talks about sex, I think that's it?

A/n: Based on an ask!!! Also... I need more Tom Taylor gifs RIGHT NOW or I'll cry. So fancast Cregan might make a comeback in the gifs

Masterlist

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She felt herself flinch when strong hands gripped her waist from behind and a kiss was placed on the back of her neck. 

"Did you miss me, my heart?" A deep voice whispered in her ear.

She relaxed at the sound, her body instinctively giving in to the hands that held her, "Quite terribly."

He grinned and playfully nipped at her ear, "Good, because I have as well."

She spun in his hold, now facing him. She ran her hands over his clothed chest and fiddled with his cloak, "The hunt was successful, I assume?"

"Three elks and a boar," he said with a hint of pride, "Should last Winterfell a while enough."

"You're very brave, my lord," she smiled with a teasing tone. "Facing a boar is quite a formidable task."

"Aye," he agrees. "But so is facing the Warden of the North, wouldn't you agree?"

"You're right," She said as he tugged on his cloak to pull his face closer to hers. "The boar didn't stand a chance."

A confident aura overcame the lord and he leaned further down and connected their lips.

She let out a soft groan, savoring the feeling of him after such a long absence.

His arms moved up and around her back to pull her to him.

Her chest collided with his and only then did Cregan falter.

She pulled away, disconnecting their lips as she gave him a small frown. "Cregan?"

His breath had quickened and his face paled, but he was eagerly changing the subject, "I've only missed you is all." He leaned in again.

As his lips brushed hers, she pulled away again as her worry doubled, "Stop. Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Something is clearly bothering you," she pointed out. "Tell me."

His hands wandered up to her biceps, gripping her earnestly, as if trying to convince her, "I am just fine. I only wish to spend time with my wife. Is that a crime?"

"You and I both know it's not, but there's something you're not telling me."

They stared at one another, seeing who would break first. Finally, he did with a sigh. "It is nothing, I assure you."

"You're sure?" She asked in worry.

"I am." 

She stared at him for a while before nodding, deciding to believe him. "Very well. I dare say I would enjoy some time with my lord husband as well."

He grinned, "I can arrange that." 

She leaned forward and met his lips, hands beginning to wander. 

He led her backwards to the bed, careful to not lead her astray. She blindly let him, too caught him in his touch to care where he took her.

She fell onto the bed and Cregan leaned down and began to kiss down her clothed stomach.

"Will you let me indulge in what I've missed?" He asked softly.

She let out a breath at his admission. 

Watching her reaction closely, he pulled the skirt of her dress up.

As his fingers grazed her bare thigh, she moaned out, "I don't think I can wait. I need you."

He chuckled, "So eager for me."

She sat up to entice him to loom over her, but she noticed that the color still hadn't returned to his cheeks. "Are you cold?"

He frowned, clearly confused at the question, "What? No."

"You're pale. Cregan, please." She reached under his cloak to his chest. 

He reached out to grip her wrists, but it was too late.

Her hands pulled back with red staining her palms. Her eyes widened in horror. "W…What-"

"-Look at me." He grabbed her face with both hands. "I am fine."

"You're hardly-"

His eyes showed the purely determined tone to his voice, "I am fine."

Her breath began to become shorter and her voice softened, "You… you've seen the maester?"

"I don't need the maester. I just need you," he said as he leaned in again.

She turned her head as she denied his wishes. "You're injured."

He sighed and pulled away from her. "It… it is just a scratch."

She stared down at her hands that now had his blood on them. Her fingers were shaky, and her voice was soft, "…you're injured."

He panicked when she began to only repeat her worry. "Dear wife-"

She stood and smoothed her dress out in a rush, "I'll get the maester."

He reached out and grabbed her wrist. His face twisted in a wince when the movement caused pain to shoot through his body.

She paused. "Cregan."

He forced himself to overcome the pain. Determination ran through his eyes as he looked up at her. "I. Am Fine."

She looked at his hand on her wrist, then back to him. "Even wolves show weakness on occasion."

It was clear that he took her words to heart because his eyes softened and his grip on her loosened. 

She slowly pulled her hand away and moved to the cabinet, pulling out bandages and cloths

Cregan watched in silence.

She set them onto the bed softly before leaving the room. She returned with a small basin of water. "Undress."

His head tilted. "Alright."

He pulled his cloak off, and only then did she notice how badly he was injured. 

His tunic was soaked in blood across his chest. 

It felt as if she had been dunked in cold water. Panic settled into her gut.

Cregan reached down to the bottom of the tunic, beginning to slowly peel it away from the injury. It clearly hurt him. His jaw was clenched to the point she worried for his teeth.

"Let me," she offered, pulling it the rest of the way off of him and throwing it to the side. 

A long cut ran down his chest, blood staining his skin. Cregan didn't bother to look at it. He kept his eyes on her and her alone.

She forced him to sit on the bed and sat down as well, reaching down to the cut. Her fingers grazed it lightly, earning a hiss from him. "Sorry," she whispered.

He shook his head as he studied her face, "'s fine."

"Get comfortable, my love," she finally forced.

He grunted in acknowledgement and pushed himself against the headboard.

She stood and grabbed the basin, setting it on the nightstand. The woman got up on the bed, throwing her leg over him to straddle him. 

If he wasn't in such pain, the night would've went much differently.

She leaned over and wet a cloth, beginning to gently run it over the cut to clean it. 

Cregan rested his head back against the headboard. His gaze stayed on her face.

"I don't understand why you didn't say something sooner," she whispered as she focused on healing her husband.

His eyes moved down to her lips, "I've had worse."

"How did it happen?" She pressed down unintentionally, and he hissed again. She muttered an apology.

"The boar," was all he said. He tried to read her expression, but it was hard when she wasn't looking at him. One of his hands moved to her waist.

"Did you face it yourself?" She asked incredulously.

"It caught us off guard is all."

She hummed as she grabbed a new cloth and continued to clean him with gentle hands.

His thumb rubbed across her waist comfortingly. "You're angry."

"Not angry," she sighed. "Only worried." Once the cut was clean, she began to slowly rub the cloth across his shoulders and up his neck, cleaning the dirt from the rest of him. 

The feeling made him close his eyes, "I do hope you'll forgive me then."

She shook her head, "You haven't asked for it yet."

He reached up with his free hand and stopped her motions. "Forgive me." His eyes studied her intensely, his voice serious.

She finally let out a sigh and a hint of a smile came to her. "You're a foolish man."

"I am," he admitted.

She took the cloth with one hand and held his chin with the other, cleaning the dirt off of his face. Their proximity brought a soft blush to her cheeks. "I don't know what I would do without you."

His eyes moved to her lips again and he began to slowly lean in. "You don't have to."

"Promise me something," she whispered.

He nodded, "Anything."

"You'll not put your health aside to appear strong to me."

"I am the Warden of the North-"

She leaned away and held his chin in a tight grip. "Not here. You're my husband, Cregan."

A little grin came across his lips. "I promise."

She leaned forward and connected their lips. 

His hands found her waist, holding her in a vice grip as he pulled her as close as possible. She was careful to avoid the cut on his chest as her hands wandered over him. 

He pulled away and began to trail kisses down her neck, "I'm a blessed man."

She let out a content hum. "Are you? You have a gash in your chest. I hardly see-"

"-I have you." His teeth nipped at a sensitive spot, soothing it with his tongue. 

Her eyes began to close in bliss as she gave in to his touch. She caught herself, and forced her eyes open. "I haven't finished bandaging you."

He continued his movements, "You'll have time later."

"If you want anything from me, you must let me finish, you stubborn man."

He pulled away at that to look up and her. "Fierce girl."

She grinned and reached over to the bandages she had gathered. She wrapped them around him, "I forgive you."

His large hand came up to grab her jaw gently and force her to look him in the eye. "I will not take it for granted. Thank you."

"Do this again and I'll gut you myself."

A chuckle came from his throat. "I have no doubts of that." He pulled her face to his and his voice lowered, "I'll have to be extra cautious, won't I?"

"Or perhaps… don't leave at all," her soft voice suggested.

"Oh, my girl," he grinned. "When you finish this bandage, we are not leaving this room for a long while."

A bright red hue came to her cheeks.

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Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver,

@cookielovesbook-akie

[illyrianbrat]

Queen's Envoy

Pairing: (fancast) Benjicot Blackwood & Velaryon female!reader

Plot: The Princess is sent as an envoy to get more allies. She is tasked with treating lords in the Riverlands. As she finds herself far from home, she discovers a certain Blackwood boy, who isn't as scary as she thought.

Warnings: typical westeros stuff, badly written panic attack, losing consciousness, being carried (no weight mention tho)

N/A: thanks to my friend and grammarly cause i had such a huge mess

“Prince Jacaerys will fly north. First to the Eyrie to see my mother's cousin, the Lady Jeyne Arryn, and then to Winterfell to treat with Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the North. Prince Lucerys will fly south to Storm's End and treat with Lord Borros Baratheon. And Princess Name will fly west to Raventree Hall and treat with Lord Blackwood. We must remind these lords of the oaths they swore.”

Rhaenyra saw how her children talked in the distance, as they were getting ready to depart. Name held Luke's hand and chuckled softly at something he said. The Queen’s heart ached as they embraced, expressing good wishes and mentioning how they would eat by the beach when they all returned.

-

Flying to the Riverlands was not an issue. As they flew over forests, [Name] rehearsed what she would say out loud. She would speak of uniting the realm, strength, and the promise of a good queen. During his reign, Viserys Targaryen named Rhaenyra as his heir, but the Hightowers were now threatening her claim. The support of the Riverlords was crucial for the cause and [Name] knew this.

Goldwing descended on a small clearing of flowers, allowing [Name] to slide down his wing. She caressed the dragon's face, glad that they arrived safely.

She glanced around, seeing how a group of men were pointing at them in the distance. [Name] heart began to race as she clutched the dagger Daemon insisted she had to take. Goldwing stood tall, protecting his rider.

“We mean no harm,” one of the men said, now at a talking distance. They were all staring at Goldwing in awe, they had never seen a dragon.

“What do you want, girl?” The other asked with curiosity.

“I am here to see Lord Blackwood.”

Their expressions turned from amazement to worry as a guy walked towards her with a crazed, yet amused look. “And who is looking for him?” He eyed her shamelessly, not missing the intricate details in the riding leathers she wore.

“Princess [Name] Velaryon,” she revealed proudly, not allowing herself to feel intimidated.

The boys fell silent, shock evident on their faces. They never expected to see a princess in the Riverlands. The boy cleared his throat and lightly scratched his brow, uncomfortable with his crude behavior. "My name is Benjicot Blackwood," he said. "But I can guide you to Raventree Hall if you'd like to speak with my father."

“Thank you,” [Name] smiled kindly.

They walked quietly, [Name] was enjoying the smell of nature and the breeze. The air was crisp, as the sun had just risen not long ago. [Name] glanced at Ben from the corner of her eye, expecting him to speak about something, since he seemed like the type that would talk for hours. Ben, on the other hand, was very aware of [Name’s] presence beside him. She moved with grace and her eyes filled with wonder at her surroundings. He had never seen anyone like her, and her sudden appearance had sparked different emotions in him.

They eventually reached Raventree Hall. Everyone inside the walls stopped and stared, even murmured, about the unexpected visitor. As they approached the main hall, Ben finally broke the silence. "My father is a good man," he promised. "He will listen to you. No matter what you need, he can help you."

[Name] nodded, grateful for his reassurance. "Thank you, Ben," she replied softly. "I hope he listens. It's... it's important."

Ben gave a small, encouraging smile and pushed the door open, gesturing for [Name] to enter first. Perhaps this meeting would get a strong army to support her mother’s claim to the Iron Throne.

-

Raventree Hall was filled with laughter, clinking goblets, and loud chatter. Samwell Blackwood had reaffirmed his claim to support Rhaenyra Targaryen, the rightful heir.

Samwell sat on the high table, alongside his sister Alyssane and his son Benjicot. The boy, however, could not take his eyes off her. His admiration grew into a silent yearning.

As the evening grew late, Ben found himself drawn into conversations with the Princess. At first, he stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing. But [Name], sensing his nerves, engaged him in discussions about anything that crossed her mind.

Encouraged by her words, Ben found himself talking more freely. He recounted tales of his training, his support for her mother’s claim and of course, about fights he had with Bracken boys. Throughout the night, they shared stories and laughter. Others at the feast noted their conversation and exchanged glances, some smiling at the young boy’s naiveness.

As [Name] stood up to leave for the night, Ben grabbed her hand and spoke without thinking, “Princess, would you like a tour through the Riverlands?”

[Name’s] heart was pounding in her chest. “Of course, I would love that.”

-

Ben woke with the sun, excitement coursing through him.

After getting dressed, he hurried through the castle to the guest chambers. As he knocked on the door, he cleared his throat, suddenly feeling shy.

There was no response from inside. Did she leave without me? He wondered as he knocked again, but still no answer. Glancing down the hallway, he slowly opened the door.

[Name] was there, lying on the bed. "Princess?" Ben called out softly. She turned toward his voice, struggling to open her eyes. "Oh... I apologize for waking you," Ben said, now feeling like he had ruined everything. "We can speak later."

"No," [Name] protested, her voice groggy. Ben's heart fluttered, he thought that was adorable. "Let me get dressed. I will meet you by the gates."

-

Ben was talking a stroll through the gardens, waiting on [Name]. He was debating if he should give her a bouquet of wildflowers when the maester hurried towards him, a letter clutched in his hand. The urgency in his eyes made Ben’s heart drop. Accepting the letter, he noticed the seal of Dragonstone and felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

He read the brief message: Prince Lucerys was dead.

He found her not far away, possibly on her way to meet him, lost in thought. Ben approached her slowly, the letter gripped tightly in his hand.

“[Name],” he called softly, trying to keep his voice calm.

She looked up, her face brightening before she saw his expression. “Ben, is something wrong?"

He stood in front of her, taking a deep breath. “I received a letter from Dragonstone,” he began, his voice heavy with pity. “It’s about your brother, Lucerys.”

[Name’s] eyes widened, a mix of fear and dread washing over her face. “What happened to Luke?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Ben handed her the letter, not trusting himself to tell her.

Her hands shook as she read it. She stared at him, her face draining of color. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, it can’t be true.” Her breathing grew rapid and shallow, her eyes wide with panic. “Luke...no...” she gasped, struggling to catch her breath. She stumbled, her movements frantic. “I need to get to him,” she cried, looking around desperately. “I need to go home.”

Ben reached out to steady her. “[Name], please,” he pleaded, but she was not hearing him. She broke free from his grasp, running towards Goldwing.

“No!” she shouted, her voice breaking. “I have to go to him!”

Goldwing lifted its head, sensing her distress. [Name] reached for the reins, her hands shaking uncontrollably. “We have to go,” she repeated, her voice frantic.

Before Ben could intervene, her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the ground. “[Name]!” he shouted, rushing to her side. Goldwing roared, eyes glowing with worry.

Ben cradled her in his arms, his heart pounding. Servants and guards came running after hearing the dragon, their faces filled with concern as Ben lifted her body and ran inside to the guest chambers.

Ben stayed by her bed after she was examined by the maester, holding her hand and watching over her. As he sat there, his heart ached, knowing that the pain of losing her brother was something no words could heal.

Hours later, a soft groan had alerted Ben that she had woken up. [Name] stared at the room, confused by her surroundings, before trying to stand up. “Easy,” he begged, pushing her back onto her pillow. “Please don’t stand up.

After some minutes of silence, [Name] rubbed her hands on her face. “I remember... my brother..."

“I know. I'm so sorry,” Ben grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently..

“I… what now?” She asked herself, starting to tear up.

“The maester said you can return to Dragonstone when you feel better,” Ben informed her.

[Name] nodded. “I do not think I can travel back alone,” she whispered to him, causing Ben to give her a reassuring smile.

“Then I can go with you,” Ben softly wiped the tears from her cheeks.

[prettymuchteddy]

The Wolves of House Stark in my fic

During the Dance of the Dragons, Lord Cregan Stark led House Stark. Known as the Wolf of the North, Lord Cregan was young but his intimidating and stern nature made him seem older. From his first marriage, Lord Stark had a son, Jonnel Stark, who was still a child in the war.

Aside from them, there was another Stark, not in name but in blood, Sara Snow. As the only daughter of the previous Lord Rickon Stark, she was doted on by her father and older brother, Cregan. While she was more friendly and polite than her half-brother, Sara was as much of a wolf as Lord Stark.

The Wolf Siblings before and during the Dance of the Dragons

[fairysluna]

this is just for funsies (and bc im curious about it too), if u have to choose between these two fine men to play Cregan Stark, who would you pick?

(Arnas Fedaravicius) ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ(Leo Suter)

[feyhunter78]

The Floret Flower

Description: Cregan has fallen for the flower maiden who smiles so sweetly at him, if only his honor would allow him to act. Also, PSA I'm not gonna be using the gifs of the HOTD casted character, he just kinda looks really young to me and it icks me out. We are fancast Cregan only girlies on this blog (no hate to the actor!!! Just my personal preference)

“Go on, taste the sun.” The words echo in his mind, spoken to him by an old washerwoman as he traveled South. Her words had an air of mysticism and promise about them, one he found much easier to believe every time you crossed his path in the Godswood, ducking your head shyly, a bashful smile on your face.

A radiant, radiant being you are, with the grace and beauty of a flower maiden, brimming with life in a way he knows can only be brought to fruition in the South.

“Lord Cregan, good morn.” You say sweetly, flowers woven in your hair, a gown of light blue adorning your figure. It has been many mornings of you greeting him. Of you hanging upon his every word, fussing over him when exhaustion shone on his face, and the pleas, and arguments of noblemen echoing within his skull. The smell of death and ashes is thick in the air everywhere but the Godswood, everywhere but where he saw you.

It would not be difficult, throw you over his shoulder, get to his horse and ride for the North. It would be a long ride, and you would surely fret and cry, but there would be enough time on the road for him to reassure you. To soothe you and assure you that he had done what was best. It would not be safe for you, not a delicate flower such as you. Ever since he has taken control of King’s Landing, its men were like beasts, prowling for any unattended maiden to take as a bride. His own men could barely find the time to wrangle their southern brothers into a more honorable way of going about satisfying their needs.

“Lady y/n, are you alone? Where are your guards?” He asks, glancing around for the very men who were supposed to be watching over you.

You scrunch your eyebrows and look around as if you had not even noticed they were missing, keeping your voice light as you approach him. “Oh…well, I am sure they are around here somewhere.”

He bites back a heavy sigh of frustration. These King’s Landing guards were utterly useless, he would need to assign some of his own men to you. “They should be near you at all times, it is not safe for a lady to wander the Keep unaccompanied.”

You cross the remaining space between you and him, and look up at him, smiling brightly, standing far, far too close. “Well, I am not unaccompanied now, am I? Not since you are here to protect me.”

Gods damn him, he cannot resist your smile. “You are right, My Lady, but still—”

“Your guards must be near you, to protect you.” You say, pitching your voice down in an attempt to imitate him. “It is unsafe for a maiden of your virtue to walk amongst these war-fed beasts.” Cregan stifles a laugh, but you hear it and your expression changes, a victorious light in your eyes. “I knew it, I knew I could make you laugh!”

His chest warms at your words, had you really been attempting to find ways to make him laugh? Him? The man who stormed into your home and seized control with bloodied hands, whose allegiance was to the very side you were against, not only due to family ties but personal ideals as well? “I am honored that you would dedicate even a moment of your time to my amusement.”

You cast your eyes downwards, and he cannot tell if it is a demure act or a bashful one. “You have been so kind to me, it is the least I can do.”

“You are easy to be kind to, My Lady.” He says truthfully, delighting in the way you take his proffered arm without delay.

“As are you, My Lord.” You look up at him and the sun hits you perfectly, a halo around your head, your skin glistening, your lips stained a tantalizing reddish color from the berries he knew you had eaten earlier. He knows all that you eat, drink, your movements throughout the Keep, who you speak with, who you did not speak with, it is all known to him. Obsessive his sister Sara would say, she would tease him mercilessly for his over interest in you, but he cares not.

Taste the sun. By the gods old and new, he wants to. He wants to taste you over and over again, wants to steal the sun and bring it back North with him.

“Is that so?” He cannot help but poke and prod, desperate to hear you sing his praises once more.

You roll your eyes playfully. “I see what you are doing, Lord Cregan, if you wish to hear your virtues tolled there are plenty of bards around that would do so.”

“You have caught me.” Cregan relents, smiling softly down at you before smoothing his expression once you both near the entryway back inside the Keep. He cannot be seen as showing you favoritism, not when there may still be cravens and traitors about. He will not have you marked as a weakness of his, a potential target.

“It seems you cannot escape my notice, in words or actions.” You say teasingly, your breasts pushed up tantalizingly as you press yourself against his arm, body turned towards him, your head tilted up to meet his gaze. “I am simply too astute.”

You do not make his mission easy, no, even though he is sure you have not a single impure thought in your mind, his is swimming with them as he feels his head dip down, his eyes flickering to your lips.

Before he can lose his grip on his honor and kiss you senseless, he is saved by a pair of passing noblemen, and he straightens up, putting distance between the two of you. “That you are, Lady Florent, it is honorable for a lady to possess a good sense of such things.”

You give him a quizzical look, followed by a slight pout, and unhook your arm, clasping your hands together before you instead, putting on an air of polite indifference. “I thank you for your kind words, Lord Stark.”

You walk in silence, footsteps echoing on the marble floor, until finally Cregan spots your familiar door. “My Lady, this is where I shall leave you.”

You nod and break away from him, your skirts sweeping across the floor with your quick movements. You reach for the door handle then pause, your back still to him. “Do you find me unpleasant, My Lord?”

“Unpleasant?” He echoes, unable to fathom how you would come to such a conclusion.

“Or is it that you find me shameful to be seen with?” You turn on your heels with your words, tears shining unshed in your eyes.

“Lady y/n I—do not understand, where have these thoughts sprung forth from?” He says, taking a step towards you, arms outstretched as if to collect you in his arms and hold you close to his chest.

“You turn from me, close yourself off from me whenever others appear. Have I shamed you? Am I hideous? Do you find myself, and my house that lowly, that you cannot stand to be seen in my presence?” Your words are harsh, but your tone is soft, your bottom lip trembling.

Cregan grabs your shoulders, pulling you into his embrace, his hand cradling the back of your head. “No, no, Lady y/n, it is nothing of the sort, please, banish such thoughts from your mind.”

You look up at him, tears collecting on your cheeks, a heartbroken expression that feels akin to a knife through his chest on your beautiful face. “Then what is it?  Because I cannot deny my feelings any longer, and I do not wish to be made a fool.”

Go on. The words echo in his mind, and he grips the chains around his will tighter, he cannot break, not now.

“Tell me the truth, tell me you do not desire me, and I shall abstain from your presence.” You say, gaining strength from anger as he stands silent.

Taste the sun.

“Speak, Cregan Stark, deny me or take what is being offered.” There is no room for argument in your tone, he must make a choice or watch you smile in the arms of another.

The chains slip from his grasp, and he cups your face, crashing his lips to yours.

I wanted to make this smutty so bad, but the inspo was simply not there today

HOTD TL: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot, @the-phantom-of-arda, @haydee5010, @partypoison00, @serrhaewin, @issshhh, @pax-2735, @malfoytargaryen, @sahanna, @dellalyra, @mxrgodsstuff, @jkhomes, @unusual-raccoon, @boofy1998, @kravitzwhore, @caribbeangel, @krispold, @issshh, @afro-hispwriter, @ryswritingrecord, @prettykinkysoul, @elissanatok, @sahvlren, @its-sam-allgood, @happinessinthbeing, @8e-h-e8, @feyres-fireheart, @just-emmaaaa, @crazylokonugget, @hedahobbit98, @devils-blackrose, @mercedesdecorazon, @snh96, @imjustboredso, @izzicle, @hiatuswhore, @aslanvez, @devils-blackrose, @yentroucnagol, @queenofshinigamis, @partyposion00, @cryptidsrcool, @jennifer0305, @solkara, @simpinonyouz, @lorarri

[sluttysnowangel666]

Chapters 1, 2, & 3 of The Song of Blackwoods and Brackens

Kieran Burton fancast, this story will include violence, crude language, smut eventually, angst

This story is written BY ME and I do not consent or give permission to it being posted or translated anywhere else. thank you for supporting your writers <3

if you enjoy this story, submit questions or requests for one shots and imagines ❤️also taking cregan stark requests as well

Chapter Master List

Summary: A unique, fictional short story set in the "A Song of Ice & Fire/House of the Dragon" universe.

The Battle of the Burning Mill was one of legend. A bloody and brutal fight between two great houses at the start of the Dance of Dragons. There were those who supported the rightful Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, and those who supported the Usurper Aegon Targaryen.

This account retells the days leading up to the battle, and the tension between the son of Samwell Blackwood and the "nephew" of Amos Bracken. These two fighters hold a secret known to no one that changes both of their lives and the future of their houses.

*this story is NOT canon, and might change depending on how the show continues to play with these characters. especially depending on if davos is meant to be bloody ben. this story is a davos/bloody ben x female reader pretending to be a male, nsfw*

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

Chapter 1: Preface

𐂃 𐂃 𐂃 𐂃

"Uncle, you cannot mean it!"

"I do. You will do this for the future of our house, and that is final. Your father wanted you to marry long ago. It's unnatural a lady of your age is not even betrothed." My uncle Amos declares.

"I understand, uncle. I know my duty. But I beg you, please let the wise lords come to me to ask my hand, Uncle. Do not betroth me to a man I know nothing of!" I cry out.

"You are being ridiculous, young lady. I will hear nothing more of this matter. You know nothing of the wars to come. This alliance between our houses will secure our land and our future. You will marry the Lannister boy and that is final. Now, take your handmaiden and return to your chambers." He says, and I know there is nothing more I can say or do. My uncle was a cold man. He showed no sort of interest in what I, his niece, wished.

"Come, my lady." My handmaiden, Ara, says. She gives my arm a soft tug, and I follow her, trying to catch my uncles eyes before I leave the room. But it is of no use. He has no time for a lady, only time for the wars to come.

That night, I stared at myself in the mirror above my vanity as my handmaiden brushed my long hair.

"Leave me please, Ara." I requested her. She nodded, bowed her head, and left.

I continued to stare at myself in the mirror. I stared and stared until I no longer recognized the lady staring back at me.

Once I finished my staring, I sat with my thoughts. What would this Lannister lord be like? I oft heard of the Lannister beauty and gold. Many of the men were strong knights, the ladies as fair as they come. But would my lord be gentle, forgiving, kind? I fear I could not love a ruthless man. I also fear I do not have a choice.

"For the good of our house"

🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛

"Father, you requested an audience with me?" Benjicot says, bowing to his father as he enters the hall.

"Yes, my son. I have a very important matter to ask of you." Samwell says, he turns and rests his hand on his son's shoulder.

His son, Benjicot, was a man of twenty and two, and was a fearsome knight. Benjicot had trained under the finest knights, fought in the toughest tourneys, and worked tirelessly to prove himself strong.

"I need you to hold the lands by the North Eastern mill. Those bloody Brackens have been allowing their livestock to cross into our territory, and letting their retched cows feast on our grass and crops." Samwell says, "All you have to do is hold the land and kill a few Brackens. I know this is simple, but this task is vital to our house and to supporting the Queen. If we take out these Brackens, the Usurper cunt will take a blow to their armies. I only need you to hold the lands for no more than a week, upon which I will arrive by your side to help slay the Brackens."

"As you wish, father."

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

Chapter 2: Lady Bracken

One moon before the Battle of the Burning Mill

𐂃 𐂃 𐂃 𐂃

"You must eat something, my lady."

"You cannot make me. I will starve before my retched uncle dares to marry me off to a conniving Lannister." I scold my handmaiden. None of this is any fault of her own, but perhaps death will be a kinder escape than forced into a betrothal.

"Please, my lady. It's been days. You must be starving by now."

"I find it hard to have an appetite knowing I'll soon be carrying a babe in my belly as an heir for House Lannister." I say. My handmaiden sighs and sets down the plate as a knock rings on the solid oak door.

My uncle enters, "You may go." He dismisses my handmaiden coldly. She bows and exits swiftly.

He addresses me.

"I have begun to prepare for your leave to Casterly Rock. Your handmaidens will begin packing your things following my departure tonight to King's Landing to meet with His Grace. Your brother Aeron will be acting lord until my return. You on the other hand, shall prepare to leave within the fortnight. A ceremony is in preparations as we speak." He says, briskly. "And I command you stop this nonsense at once. You are a lady and will do your duty to secure our alliances, which includes eating. You cannot arrive to Casterly Rock looking that of a starving lowborn."

I wait a moment before responding flatly, "I understand, uncle."

He takes this response as a success and leaves my bed chambers hastily.

My vanity.

I make my way back to my vanity. I stare again, and again. I stare endlessly. I stare until my face turns ghastly. I was becoming a woman obsessed with this bloody mirror.

And then it hits me. How could I have been so absent minded? I am not the future of my house. I have brothers who will create heirs and carry on the bloodline. I am not the future of House Lannister. My uncle cannot and will not make me marry the lord Lannister. Over my dead body.

I make my way over to the my chamber door. I open it and peer out, looking left and right for any signs of handmaidens or servants. When none appear, I walk out. All I have to do is mind my self and surroundings, and then no one will pay any mind to the Lady Bracken.

After making my way across the endless halls of the family castle, I find myself standing in front of my uncles war council chambers. I press my ear to the door to listen, but hear no voices or signs of someone being inside. I make my way in and walk straight for the dagger kept above the mantle. My uncle won't notice, at least until his return.

I return to my bed chambers, quickly rushing to stuff the dagger under my mattress before a handmaiden can question me.

My idea is foolish. Stupid. It won't work. Although, I have nothing to lose. Nothing to lose, but everything to gain.

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

Chapter 3: She’s the Man

𐂃 𐂃 𐂃 𐂃

The moment my uncle's carriage was no longer in sight, I prepared for my plan.

I waited 3 days as to not arouse suspicion.

"Brother!" I called out to my twin brother, Aeron.

"The training yard is no place for a Lady. Return inside. Whatever the matter is can wait." He scolds me.

"A raven has arrived from our uncle. The king has wished the heir of House Bracken to accompany our Lord Uncle to bend the knee and declare for His Grace." I say, holding out a scroll for my brother.

"This makes no sense." He says, snatching the scroll from my hand. "There is no seal. When did this arrive?"

"Just now, brother. It is the King's words and penmanship."

"How am I to trust an unsealed scroll?" He snaps.

"I suppose you could ignore the request. But if you do, His Grace may believe it to be you wish to declare for Rhaenyra." I say.

He contemplates. My foolish brother. "If you leave now, you will meet Uncle along the Kingsroad. You will only be a few days behind. You might chance meet him at Harrenhal."

He sighs, "When are you to leave for Casterly Rock? We simply cannot leave Stone Hedge unattended."

"Uncle simply said within the fortnight. I will send a raven at once to Casterly Rock to inform them of a possible delay of my arrival." I say, "But you must hurry, brother. A war is coming. House Bracken cannot end up on the wrong side. We need the King's trust."

My words, sweet like honey but full of falseness persuade my brother. He makes his preparations, and is gone by the following morning.

I begin my own preparations.

—————

The clarity of my foolish plan set in shortly after my brother left. But it was too late to turn around. My brother had told our servants and knights I would be leading House Bracken until their return.

Maybe I couldn't escape this betrothal. Maybe I couldn't support the rightful Queen. But maybe... just maybe I could make a fool of my House as revenge. My House, my blood, who never showed me any sort of attention. They simply sold me off as a broodmare once l was finally useful to them.

My foolish blood. They will soon come to find out just how useful I can be.

I sit in front of my vanity again, for what will be the last time. I twirl the dagger in my hands, prodding its sharp edge with my dumb. Plenty sharp. Well enough for killing Blackwoods.

I reach my hand up and grab my hair into an even hold. I raise the dagger, and cut it all off in one clean swipe.

I stare at my reflection, setting down the knife so I may run my fingers through the freshly cut blunt ends. I shake the loose hair out of my hands.

"Lord Bracken." I say to myself in the mirror, lowering my voice deeply to sound more of a man. I shake my head. "No, I sound foolish."

"Lord Bracken." I say again, adding a rasp to my voice. "Getting somewhere."

I clear my throat, "I am Lord... Aeron of House Bracken, the heir..."

Gods, I was screwed. I didn't even know my brother's proper title. Was he a knight? I think so... mayhaps?

🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛

"Bloody fuckin' hell." Benjicot snaps in anger, as he stares at the cattle on his land. "I swear to the seven I'm going to murder that Bracken cunt."

"Someone ought to teach that little prick a lesson." His cousin says, spitting at the end of his sentence. "We'll move the stones back for now. When you see him on his guard, show him how a Blackwood takes care of business."

Benjicot nods slightly.

"Oy, did you hear? Turns out they're marrying the Lady Bracken off to some Lannister cunt." His cousin says. "I've heard she's very pretty. Got them soft Bracken genes."

"And what do I care? Probably another cunt like her brother and uncle."

"Never said you did. Just found it funny. They seem to have a thing for letting their cattle roam on other people's land." His cousin insults. Benjicot chuckles at this.

"Poor girl. If there's one thing I hate more than a Bracken, it's a Lannister. Bloody cocksuckers they are." Benjicot says, his cousin agreeing.

"We best get these bloody cattle and stones back where they belong."