#silentwhisper666

[navybrat817]

I saw a Ryan Corr reblog does that mean in the future he might be a writing muse?

He might be, lovely! @maskedmistress87 was just asking me the same thing. 😏 I'd love to tackle Harwin (in more than one way). And Ryan's Outlaws look as Paddo, he could be related to Ari.

Love and thanks! ❤️

[witchezandwonderz]

The Dragon's Empress- Part Two

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Female Reader

Word Count: 2096

Part one of this story is on my masterlist- go check it out pls x

Tagged (never done this before so tagging ppl who reblogged, let me know if you want me to remove your tag): @silentwhisper666 @loxbbg @slytherin-bissqueen @groundzerosuki @rosey1981

As the council meeting concluded, Y/N stayed seated while others filed out. When the room emptied, Aegon turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “So quiet today, my queen. I thought your sharp mind might have dulled after last night’s… events,” he teased, a grin on his lips.

Y/N looked up at him, wearing a small smile. “My utmost apologies, my King, I was pondering,” she replied, leaning closer as she spoke. Aegon hummed in response, encouraging her to elaborate.

“I feel as though I know how to overcome this problem, but I’m not sure if you will appreciate my plan,” she admitted, her eyes fixed on the table in front of her. Aegon, confused by her words, leant forward to touch her hand so that she would look at him once again. He did not like seeing his wife in a state of apprehension.

“Why don’t you tell me of your plan, and I can be the decider of whether it is appreciated or not,” Aegon stated, attempting a reassuring smile, though it looked far from genuine—kindness was still unfamiliar territory for him. Regardless, Y/N knew his intentions were good, and this encouraged her to speak further.

“This uprising among the people, these rumours—they’re born from fear and resentment, not mere rebellion. A show of force will only serve to drive them deeper into it,” she spoke with passion. Aegon listened carefully, taking a moment to truly process her words.

After pondering, he let out a small laugh. “I must be misinterpreting your meaning, my love; it sounds as though you wish me to negotiate with those who wish for my death,” he laughed, taking a big swig of his wine. Y/N did not return the laugh. “Not negotiate, husband—listen to them. Listen to their thoughts and feelings.”

Aegon’s smile disappeared, and he let out a quiet, “Oh, I see.”

“You needn’t make a decision now. Think about it, and if you wish to hear my thoughts further, then come and find me,” Y/N spoke softly but firmly. She stood gracefully, moved closer to Aegon, gently pushed a lock of his blonde hair from his face, and planted a kiss upon his forehead before turning and walking out, leaving him to sit and ponder her suggestion.

Aegon thought for a while. If there was anything that terrified him, it was vulnerability. Approaching those who wished him dead would leave him in the most vulnerable position he could imagine—surrounded by those who likely supported his half-sister, Rhaenyra. Initially, he felt slightly betrayed that his wife would suggest something so dangerous. But as he thought further, he began to consider its potential benefits. After what felt like hours, he decided to find Y/N so she could explain her idea in more detail.

Aegon searched most of the grounds for Y/N, but could not find her. The outside air was freezing cold, so he hesitated to check there. Finally, he begrudgingly pulled on more layers and ventured into the cold.

What was she doing to him, he thought. He had never gone out of his way to find someone before—he had never cared enough to do so.

Aegon wandered in the darkness with Criston Cole at his side, as always. Soon, he spotted Y/N in the distance, seated in front of a tree. His brows furrowed. Why would she sit in the cold when she could be warm in their chambers?

“Remain here, Cole,” he instructed. The Kingsguard nodded and stayed in place as Aegon approached Y/N.

She hadn’t noticed him; she was too engrossed in her own thoughts. Unbeknownst to the King, Y/N did this every night. She would dismiss her guard, sit under the tree, close her eyes, and get lost in daydreams.

Despite how peaceful she appeared, Aegon couldn’t help feeling anger toward her lack of defence. What if someone found her alone and harmed her? His heart wrenched at the thought.

“What are you doing?” he questioned, standing directly above her. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, and she jumped slightly at his voice. Realising it was Aegon, she sighed in relief.

“Thank the gods it’s you; you gave me a fright!” she said, propping herself up on her elbows. Aegon tutted as he sat beside her.

“I thought someone of your intelligence would know not to sit out here, isolated,” he stated. Y/N looked at him with confusion, prompting him to continue. “You’re vulnerable here—no guards, no defence.” She smiled at his words, which wasn’t the reaction he expected. He had hoped for more of a “sorry, it won’t happen again.”

Unexpectedly, Y/N leaned forward, grabbed his collar, and pulled him toward her, crashing her lips onto his.

“You care about me,” she stated, breathless. Aegon laughed. “Of course I care about you?” His words came out more as a question than a statement.

“I thought about what you said, and I’ve decided I want to hear your plan in full. But,” he paused, looking at her, “I’m uncomfortable surrounding myself with rebels.”

“Rebels only when they’re left voiceless, my love,” Y/N said. “Show them a king willing to walk among his people, one who has confidence in his rule and strength enough to show understanding, not fear.”

Aegon felt a surge of resistance rise in him. Every instinct screamed against such vulnerability. But there was wisdom in Y/N’s words that he couldn’t ignore. She suggested something he’d never considered—a ruler’s strength wasn’t merely in intimidating his enemies, but also in reassuring his people.

After a long pause, Aegon sighed and nodded. “If this is your counsel, then I will hear it.”

Y/N nodded, pleased. She hadn’t expected him to seriously consider her suggestion. Yet she couldn’t shake a flicker of fear; she knew how much risk this entailed. If it went wrong, she would have many questions to answer, and her mother-in-law would eagerly seek revenge.

The next day, Aegon and Y/N left the Red Keep, accompanied by their guards. They had considered only taking Criston but deemed it too risky.

“Relax, my King. These people can smell fear,” Y/N whispered as they walked through the city. The bustling citizens paused to watch the couple stroll by, some with looks of apprehension, others smiling and waving. Aegon held Y/N’s hand tightly, and she squeezed his to reassure him.

“Good morrow,” Y/N smiled, bowing slightly to a group of people who had gathered nearby. To Aegon’s surprise, she walked closer to them. He tried to slow her down without drawing attention, but Y/N used all her strength to pull him along. Once close, she shook the hands of each person, looking at Aegon expectantly until he followed suit. The group, initially frowning, now wore broad smiles.

As they engaged in conversations, word of the king’s visit spread, filling the air with voices and questions. Some spoke with bitterness, others with worry, but all found Aegon’s ear.

For the first time, Aegon saw these people—his people—as voices rather than subjects. Voices with opinions that mattered, for they spoke about their own livelihoods. He had been so caught up in his family feuds that he’d forgotten not everyone cared about his family; many simply wanted a ruler who made decisions for them.

He knew his morals were flawed, and he wasn’t the kindest king Westeros had seen, but his wife was. That was power in itself.

They returned to the Red Keep an hour later, exhausted but purposeful. Aegon, particularly, was in high spirits, pleased with how the interaction had gone. Unfortunately, his council did not share his enthusiasm.

Alicent and Otto—mother and grandfather—greeted them with displeasure.

“How dare you take my son to be scrutinised by those people!” Alicent spat, her eyes like daggers on Y/N.

Aegon wanted to speak, but knew he’d be silenced by both women.

“Scrutinised? This was perhaps the best decision he’s made,” Y/N replied calmly, though her anger was evident.

“You stupid girl,” Otto muttered.

“Pardon?” Aegon said, moving closer to him.

“This should not have happened,” Otto muttered again.

“How dare you call my wife—your Queen—such insolent names. I should have you hanged for treason. My wife has been a better Hand than you ever were. Do better,” Aegon stated. He turned to his mother, raising a finger. “One week, Mother. In one week, you’ll hear the people’s thoughts, and I guarantee they’re in my favour.”

Aegon’s brother, Aemond, entered the room. Y/N hadn’t interacted much with him—she found him strange, intimidating, and untrustworthy.

He muttered something unintelligible, then swept out. Judging by everyone’s expressions, no one else understood him either.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go and fuck my beautiful, intelligent, and loyal wife,” Aegon declared, grabbing Y/N’s hand and whisking her away.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N- Please like, reblog and comment if you enjoyed:)

My requests are open!

[companionjones]

Days, Weeks, Months, Years (6/10)

Pairing: fwb!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst

1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // 10

*******

Bucky let you go at the party, but he was at your door soon after you locked it behind you. "FRIDAY, please. You have to let me in."

She responded immediately, "No I don't, Bucky. Plus, that would be directly against Y/n's orders."

"Y/n? Come on, doll. Open up."

You didn't respond.

"Do you want me to end things with Val? I'll do that for you."

"That's not all I want, and you know it." You hated how much your voice betrayed how much you were crying.

Bucky went silent for a moment. "...I can't lose you." His voice was quiet, scared.

"You never had me." Well, he never knew he had you, at least.

Bucky didn't say anything after that, but you knew he was still there. "Who sent you?" He was no longer talking to you.

"Everyone," Steve replied. "Come on, Buck. It's time to go."

Soon enough, you heard two pairs of footsteps retreating from your door.

*******

1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // 10

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlists. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you!

*******

Tag List: @sidraaaaaaaaa // @dontworryboutitsweetheartxx-blog // @mayusenpai666 // @onceithough // @greatenthusiasttidalwave // @shadowzena43 // @ampersam // @sebastians-love // @cjand10 // @silentwhisper666 // @supraveng

[thewolvesofthenorth]

@kingdomzeldaquest @viktor-nnmi @baddielizzy @high-speed-r @janeety @paramoreitaintfun @chubbgal l @lovemesomevesey @r-3dlips @jellybeanstacey0519 @scrumptiousloser @silentwhisper666 @justheretoreadthestories @delaynew @jessicar401 @inkandarsenic @moonlightgirl2021 @strengthandstay @misshale21 @literishdegree99 @flwries @xunquish-blog @edynmeyer1 @wallacewillow0773638

Chapter Five

Chapter Five of Man of Honor

Series Masterlist ❖ Main Masterlist ❖ House Of The Dragon Masterlist

Rating: 18+ Word Count: ~5k+ Summary: The night of the banquet finally arrives, and things get turned upside down. Warnings: Angst angst angst, language, fluff, slow burn, pining, SMUTTY GOODNESS (fingering, p in v)

⟸ Previous Chapter ❖ Next Chapter ⟹

The night of the banquet promptly arrived, and soon you stood in front of a mirror, admiring the gown that hugged your figure in the best ways. In true Northern fashion, the gown was black with silver accents, gray and white fur adorning the shoulders, and a neckline low enough to expose skin, but not so low as to be improper.

A firm knock interrupted your admiring, and you turned as the door to your chambers opened, revealing Sara.

“Wow,” she said as she took in your attire. “You look beautiful.”

You sheepishly smiled at her. “Thank you.”

“I was coming to let you know that many of the Northern lords have arrived and the banquet began a short time ago,” she informed. “And with how you look tonight, I would not be surprised if a few of them came with proposals.”

“Hush, Sara,” you chastised, fidgeting with the sleeve of your gown. “Tonight is not about finding a husband.”

“But is it not?” she countered. “After all, we agreed that it might not be a bad idea to get acquainted with some lords who have shown an interest in you.”

“Yes, but that is not the reason we are holding the banquet.” She waved you off and rolled her eyes.

“Yes, yes, if you insist. No matter. Shall we join the festivities?”

“We shall,” you replied, taking one last look at yourself, and brushing nonexistent dust off your skirt.

Here goes nothing.

The Great Hall bustled with activity. The thunderous roars of drunken men echoed through the night, and as you approached, your nervousness grew.

Who would be there tonight?

You warily glanced at Sara, and she met your eye, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

You knew you would be sitting near Cregan, if not next to him, but that also meant that you would be near Arra. The two of you had spoken little since her arrival to Winterfell, superficial pleasantries being the only interaction between you, but regardless of your feelings about her betrothal to Cregan, you were cordial to her, and she to you.

You did not know if she felt anything towards the man, but you dared not to dwell too long on the thought in fear of your jealousy becoming apparent. Everyone knew that you and Cregan were close, so you sitting at the head table would not raise questions, and for that, you were grateful. However, you were sure that there would still be some kind of gossip about your lack of presence around the young Warden as of late.

As you and Sara entered the Great Hall, you glanced at the head table and caught sight of Cregan, dressed in his finest furs, his broad frame having a commanding presence in the room. To no surprise, Arra was sitting to his left. However, the person sitting to his right was a welcome sight. Lord Cerwyn was in the chair beside Cregan, the two rooted in deep conversation. As if sensing your presence, Cerwyn looked up and caught sight of you, a large grin spread across his face as he stood to greet you. Cregan, turning to see why his friend stood, saw you and he felt a flutter in his chest.

You looked ravishing.

He followed in his friend’s actions and stood to greet you and his sister. Arra, taking notice of the men’s actions, followed suit.

“My lords. My lady,” you warmly greeted with a small curtsy. Sara quickly copied you before taking her place at the end of the table, three seats down from Cregan, leaving an open seat between Cerwyn and her. Arra returned the gesture before resuming her seat and continued silently sipping her wine while absentmindedly watching everyone in the room.

“My lady,” Cregan spoke, bowing his head politely as he took in your form, before also taking a seat and taking a large gulp of wine. You paid him no mind as you turned to Lord Cerwyn.

“My lady,” he greeted, taking your hand and placing a kiss on the back of it. “May I just say that you look beautiful tonight.” A blush crept across your cheeks at his words as the two of you took a seat.

“Thank you, my lord,” you responded, wordlessly thanking a servant when they came to fill your cup of wine.

“How do you fare?”

“I am well,” you responded. “Summer is finally upon us.”

“Yes, it is,” Cerwyn affirmed. “I look forward to what the summer may bring. Have you been riding or spending time in the library since my last visit?”

“Unfortunately, not riding, but I have read more of the books in the library. As well as working on more needlework.”

“Needlework? You? What a surprise. Though, I would like to hear more about the stories you’ve read. Perhaps on the morrow?” he asked. “I’m afraid the wine is dulling my senses, and I would like to dedicate my full attention to you.”

“I shall await your presence come the morning to tell you of the tales I've read,” you agreed with a smile, placing a hand on his forearm. You were unaware of the jealousy brimming in Cregan’s eyes; however, Sara took note and shook her head at her brother.

As the night progressed, you found yourself enjoying Cerwyn’s company, as you always had. You were grateful for his easy conversation, his stories and humor a welcome distraction from your nervousness. But despite your focus on Cerwyn, you couldn’t shake the sensation of being watched.

From the corner of your eye, you caught Cregan’s gaze flicking toward you more than once, and although his expression remained unreadable, there was a tightness to his jaw whenever Cerwyn leaned closer to say something and make you laugh. Meanwhile, Arra was engaged in quiet conversation, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, while Sara occasionally glanced between you and Cregan with a knowing smile, as if enjoying her brother’s evident unease.

“My lady,” a booming voice interrupted. You turned to see Lord Umber, his broad frame casting a shadow over the table. “Might I have the honor of a dance?”

You hesitated, glancing briefly at Cerwyn, who gave you an encouraging nod. “Of course, my lord,” you replied, rising gracefully.

The music began, and though Lord Umber’s movements were less than graceful, his hearty laughter was infectious. You found yourself smiling as you twirled among the other couples.

When the song ended, you curtsied to Lord Umber and turned to return to your seat, colliding into Cerwyn who was standing behind you. With a laugh, he caught you and helped steady you on your feet.

“May I have this dance?”

“I would be delighted,” you replied, grateful for the familiarity of his presence.

As Cerwyn led you back into the sea of dancing couples, you felt Cregan’s eyes burning into your back. The intensity of his gaze was a palpable weight, but you refused to let it affect you. Cerwyn’s hand rested lightly on your waist as he guided you through the steps with surprising grace.

“You move beautifully,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. His words drew a genuine smile from you as you relaxed into the rhythm of the music.

After the last notes of the lively tune faded, you and Cerwyn made your way back to the head table, your steps light and easy from the dance. You took your seat next to him, the pleasant warmth of the dance still lingering. As the musicians struck up another song, the room’s chatter continued, but a sudden hush fell over the hall when Lord Manderly stood, raising his cup high.

“A toast!” he boomed, his voice cutting through the noise. “To the Young Wolf and his lovely bride to be!”

The guests erupted in cheers, raising their cups in unison. You hesitated for a moment, your gaze flickering to Cregan as he lifted his cup with a polite smile, his expression unreadable. As he lowered his cup, he glanced at you, surprised to meet your eye. You raised your own cup, offering a courteous smile, before turning back to Cerwyn, who gave you a reassuring nod. You could not help but notice the brief tension in the air, though it was quickly drowned out by the laughter and clinking of cups that followed the toast.

Hours ticked by and the revelry showed no signs of slowing. The Great Hall filled with the warmth of bodies and the heady scent of wine and roasted meats. You found yourself swept up in conversation after conversation, dancing with various lords and suitors and catching up with old acquaintances, your cheeks flushed from both the wine and the constant attention.

Lord Cerwyn remained a steadfast presence at your side, his hand occasionally brushing against yours in a gesture that was both comforting and thrilling. You were glad for his company, especially when you caught glimpses of Cregan and Arra, their heads bent close in conversation.

“Another dance, my lady?” Cerwyn asked, his eyes filled with understanding. You nodded, allowing him to lead you once more to dance, eager to distract yourself from the happy couple.

As you twirled and stepped in time with the music, you couldn’t help but notice Cregan’s gaze following your movements. His face was a mask of neutrality, but there was something in his eyes - a flicker of emotion you couldn’t quite name.

Strange.

During a brief respite from the dancing, you retreated to a quiet corner to catch your breath. Cerwyn appeared at your side, offering you a cup of cool water.

“Thank you,” you said appreciatively, taking a long sip.

“You’ve been quite popular this evening,” Cerwyn remarked with a smile. “I daresay you’ve charmed half, if not all, of the North tonight.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You flatter me, my lord. I’m merely being polite.”

“Polite, perhaps, but no less enchanting for it,” he replied, his eyes twinkling with warmth.

Before you could respond, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Lord Cerwyn,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Might I cut in?”

“Of course, my friend,” Cerwyn responded, giving you an encouraging smile, though you noticed a flicker of something—concern, perhaps?—in his eyes. You turned to Cregan and found his hand extended towards you. Your breath caught in your throat as you met his intense gaze. For a moment, the bustling hall seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” he asked politely.

“Of course, my lord,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. As Cregan’s hand closed around yours, you felt a jolt of electricity course through you. You had not spoken to him since your argument in the godswood, and you grew nervous.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he murmured, his eyes roaming your face.

“Thank you, my lord,” you responded, trying to keep your voice steady. “You look quite handsome yourself.” His hand tightened on your waist, and you could feel the heat of his palm through the fabric of your gown.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, so only you could hear. Your heart clenched at his words.

“Cregan...” you started, but he shook his head.

“I know,” he said, his voice tinged with regret. “I know I have no right to say such things. But it doesn’t make them any less true.” You sighed, shaking your head slightly.

You danced in silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you, and as the song came to an end, Cregan’s hand slightly tightened on your waist.

“Meet me in the godswood,” he whispered. “After the feast. Please.”

Before you could respond, he stepped back, bowing formally as the dance concluded. You curtsied in return, your mind whirling with confusion and anticipation.

As you made your way back to your seat, you caught sight of Arra watching you, giving you a small smile when your eyes met. Her lack of jealousy surprised you, but you nonetheless returned her smile. Once you returned to the table, Cerwyn warmly greeted you, but you could see the concern in his eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly, having caught the tension between you and Cregan.

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yes, of course. Just a bit warm from the dancing.” Cerwyn nodded, not pushing the matter further, but he knew that you were anything but fine.

As you settled back into your seat, you couldn’t help but wonder what Cregan could possibly have to say to you in the godswood.

And more importantly, did you dare to meet him there?

The feast had ended not too long ago, and Winterfell lay cloaked in the deep stillness of the hour of the eel. In your chambers, the fire crackled softly in the hearth, its faint light casting flickering shadows on the walls. You sat on the edge of your bed, absentmindedly twisting the fabric of your nightgown between your fingers, your thoughts restless.

The godswood.

Meet me in the godswood.

Cregan’s whispered words during the dance played over and over in your mind. You had felt the urgency in his voice, the way his hand lingered on your waist, as if reluctant to let you go. But what could he possibly want to say that required the secrecy of the godswood at such an hour?

You rose from the bed and paced the room, your bare feet silent against the stone floor. Part of you longed to go, to hear him out, to understand the emotion you had glimpsed in his eyes. But another part—a quieter, more cautious part—warned against it. What good could come from such a meeting? Whatever words passed between you could not change your reality or his.

The fire crackled again, louder this time, pulling you from your thoughts. You glanced toward the door, half expecting to see it open, half dreading that it might. Minutes ticked by, and still, you remained frozen in indecision. Finally, with a resolute sigh, you sat back down on the edge of the bed. You would not go. Whatever Cregan needed to say, he could say in the light of day, not under the cover of darkness in a place so steeped in ancient, sacred silence.

The faint creak of the door opening startled you, and you whipped your head toward the sound. There he was, framed in the doorway, his broad shoulders and familiar face illuminated by the faint glow of the hearth. Cregan stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him.

“You didn’t come,” he said, his voice low but filled with unmistakable hurt.

“I couldn’t,” you replied, your words hesitant. “It would have been pointless.”

He crossed the room in a few long strides, stopping just short of where you sat. His eyes searched yours, his brow furrowed in a mix of frustration and something far deeper.

“Why?” he demanded, his voice barely above a whisper. “After everything—after the way we danced, after what I said—why wouldn’t you come?”

Your hands twisted the edge of your gown again, the motion betraying your unease. “Because I don’t know what you want from me,” you admitted. “What could you possibly have to say, Cregan, that you haven’t already said?”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he seemed at a loss for words.

“I wanted to tell you that I—” He broke off, his voice faltering, as though the weight of his confession was too much to bear. “That I didn’t mean for it to be this way. To break my oath to you…”

“But you did,” you cut him off, your voice barely audible.

He nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I never meant to hurt you. I—”

“Stop,” you interrupted, your heart aching at the helplessness in his tone. “Don’t say it, Cregan. Please. It doesn’t change anything. You’ve already said what you had to say when we last spoke in the godswood.”

Cregan paced the room briefly, running a hand through his dark hair before turning back to you. “You seemed to enjoy yourself tonight,” he said, his tone tight, his demeanor changing to mask his vulnerability.

You raised an eyebrow, unsure of where he was going with this. “It was a feast, Cregan. I was being polite.”

“Polite,” he echoed, his voice carrying a hint of derision. “Is that what you call dancing with half the lords in the hall? Or spending the better part of the evening with Cerwyn at your side?”

You folded your arms, holding his gaze. “And what would you have me do instead? Sit idly by while you spend your evening with Arra, completely ignoring my presence as you’ve done before? I have to think about my future now, Cregan. You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do.”

His jaw tightened, the muscles in his face flexing as he absorbed your words. “And yet, watching you with Cerwyn tonight—”

You blinked, thrown by the sudden shift. “Cerwyn?”

“Yes, Cerwyn!” he snapped, his frustration spilling over. “Seeing him make you smile, hearing your laugh, the way he looked at you, his hands on you—it drove me mad.”

He stopped, clenching his fists as though physically restraining himself from saying more. You stared at him, trying to comprehend his sudden jealousy.

“Why does it matter to you, Cregan?” you asked, your voice quieter now, though it carried a sharp edge. “You’re betrothed to Arra. What I do, who I dance with, shouldn’t concern you.”

His eyes darkened, and he took a step closer. “It concerns me because I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you—because I—” He stopped himself, visibly struggling to rein in his emotions. “Because I care about you.”

You felt your breath hitch at his admission, but you forced yourself to remain calm, to push through the turmoil his words stirred in your heart.

“And yet, you’ve hurt me, time and time again,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You made your choice, Cregan. So, I ask you again, why does it matter?”

Cregan looked at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours, as though hoping to find an answer there. Finally, he stepped back, his broad shoulders sagging slightly.

“It matters,” he said quietly, “because it’s you.” You sharply sucked in a breath, heart thundering in your chest.

“It matters because it’s you,” he repeated, his voice softer now, tinged with a vulnerability that made your chest tighten. He hesitated for a moment, as though debating whether to say more, but then the dam broke.

“I’m in love with you,” he confessed, his voice raw and unguarded. “I’ve been a fool, and I wish—I wish I could take everything back. The oath I broke, the choices I made—everything. I don’t want you to marry someone else. I can’t stand the thought of losing you. Please.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you momentarily breathless. You could see the truth in his eyes, in the way he looked at you, as though you were the only person in the world. For a fleeting moment, you wanted to believe that things could be different, that his words could erase the pain of the past.

But reality set in, cold and unyielding. You forced yourself to look away, gathering the strength to say what you knew you had to.

“You had your chance, Cregan,” you said, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. “You had your chance to tell me how you felt before all of this. But now—it doesn’t matter anymore.”

His brow furrowed, desperation flickering in his expression. “Of course it matters! It matters because I love you!”

You flinched at the raw emotion in his voice, but your resolve remained firm.

“And what of Arra?” you asked, your tone cutting through his plea. “What about the promise you made to her? Whatever you feel, whatever we feel—it’s nothing now. You’re betrothed, Cregan. To admit this, to act on this, wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be fair to her. Just as it wasn’t fair to me. It’s too late.”

“She doesn’t love me,” he countered. “It’s a match of duty, nothing more. You know that.”

“And yet, duty binds you to her, just as it once bound you to me,” you said firmly, lifting your chin as you faced him. “What kind of man would you be if you broke yet another oath? What would that say about the Starks and how honorable they are? What would the North think, Cregan? And what kind of woman would I be to encourage it?”

The silence that followed was heavy, his jaw tightening as though your words physically struck him. For a moment, you thought he might relent, might finally see the impossibility of what he was asking of you. But then his shoulders slumped, and he looked at you with an intensity that made your heart ache.

“I know,” he said, his voice quieter but no less anguished. “I know it would be wrong to break the betrothal to Arra. I know the shame it would bring about on my house. And I know that I have to make sacrifices for the sake of duty. But gods, I love you. I’m a fool having not seen it sooner. And no matter how much I want to do what’s right, I can’t change how I feel about you. I would give it all up if you asked it of me.”

You inhaled sharply, shaking your head, your voice rising with your emotions. “It doesn’t matter! Cregan, you’re asking me to sit here and listen to this while you remain bound to Arra. How can you expect me to stay in Winterfell, to—”

“I don’t want you to leave,” he interrupted, his voice trembling with desperation. “I told you, I don’t want you to marry someone else. Gods, I wish it wasn’t like this—I wish I didn’t hurt you. I love you, and I can’t—”

He stopped himself, clenching his fists, his emotions teetering on the edge of control.

“Cregan,” you tried again, your voice softer now, as though trying to ease the rawness in his gaze. But before you could say more, he took a step forward, closing the distance between you.

He fell to his knees on the floor in front of you, his face level with yours because of his height. He cupped your face in his hands, his touch both firm and trembling. “You are everything to me,” he said, his voice breaking. “Everything.”

Then, without giving you a chance to respond, he kissed you.

The kiss was sudden and fierce, full of all the emotions he could no longer contain. It was a collision of love, regret, and desperation, and it left you breathless.

For a moment, you froze, your mind screaming at you to push him away, to remind him of all the reasons this was wrong. But your heart betrayed you, pulling you closer to him despite everything. You leaned into the kiss, your resolve faltering under the intensity of his touch.

When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his breathing unsteady. His thumb brushed your cheek, his voice a rough whisper. “Tell me you don’t feel the same,” he said. “Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll let you go. You can leave Winterfell, marry whoever you choose—but I need to hear you say it. I need to hear you say that you don’t love me and that you wish to never see my face again. Please.”

You closed your eyes, your heart warring with your mind. His confession, his kiss, his plea—they were everything you had once dreamed of. Once hoped for. And still hoped for. But you knew it was too late. You could not have what he could not give, despite his words saying differently.

“Cregan…” you whispered, his name like a prayer, though even you weren’t sure for what. “I—I love you. You’ve known this, and I wish — I wish I didn’t feel this way for you. Gods, I wish I could just hate you, because it would be so much easier than loving you, but I can’t. You come in here, saying words that I’ve wanted to hear for so long, but it cannot be so. You know it and I know it.”

 “Please,” he begged. “I know it took me seeing you with someone else tonight, and I’m a fool for it, but I will do anything to make this right. I will forsake my duty as Warden of the North. I will—“

“You and I both know you cannot do that. You only just took it back from your uncle. I will not allow you to throw away your whole life because of our selfishness. Cregan—“

“Fuck the North,” he declared. “If it means that I have you, then fuck the North. I love you, and I cannot accept that you would so easily give up on your love for me after loving me all these years.”

“Cregan—“

He once again cut you off, dipping his head to capture your lips, arms circling your waist to pull you closer. Your head grew clouded by his actions. This kiss had just as much fire as his previous one, and your body could not help but react. Cregan tightened his grip around your waist, the heat from his body warming you through your nightgown, and you battled within yourself. You needed to pull away, but your body would not allow it, having craved his touch for too long.

Cregan deepened the kiss, and before you knew it, you were on your back on the bed, Cregan hovering above you. He began to pepper kisses on your neck, and you moaned when he got to a particularly sensitive spot.

As you felt his hand move from your waist to your hips, you couldn’t help but arch your back into him, your body no longer listening to your mind. Cregan pressed more kisses to your jaw and throat as he slid his hand down to part your legs, slotting himself comfortably between your thighs. You wrapped your legs around his waist and felt his prominent arousal against your core as he ground himself against you.

You were in a daze, a wave of warmth surging through you as he brought his lips back to yours, your tongues colliding in a frenzy. Wanting to feel his skin against yours, you pushed his cloak off his shoulders and untucked his tunic from the waistband of his trousers. Cregan, taking the hint, broke the kiss and quickly pulled the fabric over his head, tossing it to the end of the bed.

He reclaimed your lips as he gripped your thigh, pushing the edge of your nightgown up your leg. You shivered at the contact, his touch igniting a flame beneath your skin. Cregan’s hand continued its journey up your thigh, pushing your nightgown higher. His fingers skimmed over your hip, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You gasped into his mouth as his hand found your breast, kneading it gently through the thin fabric.

“Gods, I’ve dreamed of this,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire. “Of touching you like this, of hearing the sounds you make.”

You arched into his touch, your body betraying your mind’s feeble protests. Cregan’s lips trailed down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. His other hand joined the first, pushing your nightgown up further until it bunched around your waist. 

“Cregan,” you moaned, torn between desire and reason. “We shouldn’t—”

He silenced you with another searing kiss, his hips grinding against yours. You could feel his hardness pressing against your leaking center, and it sent a jolt of pleasure through you. You were lost in sensation, in the feel of his skin against yours, in the weight of his body pressing you into the bedding. It was everything you had ever wanted, everything you had dreamed of for so long.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “Tell me you don’t want this as much as I do.”

You knew you should. You knew this was wrong, that it would only lead to more heartache. But as Cregan’s hands roamed your body, as his lips left a trail of fire on your skin, you found yourself unable to form the words.

Instead, you tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled him down for another kiss. Cregan groaned into your mouth, his hands gripping your hips tightly. In one swift motion, he pulled your nightgown over your head, leaving you bare beneath him.

His eyes raked over your form, dark with desire. “Beautiful,” he murmured, before lowering his head to your breast.

You gasped as his mouth closed around your nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. Your back arched off the bed, pressing yourself closer to him, your hands burying themselves in his hair. Cregan’s hand slid between your legs, fingers finding your wetness.

“So wet for me,” he growled as he licked and kissed his way back to your lips, circling your clit with his thumb.

You whimpered, hips bucking against his hand. Cregan continued his ministrations, building the pressure inside you until you were a writhing mess beneath him. Cregan broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he watched your face. His fingers moved lower, teasing your entrance before slowly pushing inside. You cried out softly, overwhelmed by the sensation of his fingers slipping into your seeping hole.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he whispered reverently, his thumb resuming its circles as his fingers curled inside you.

You clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as the pleasure built. Cregan’s thick fingers driving you higher and higher until you shattered with a muffled cry, burying your face in his neck. Giving you a moment to recover, Cregan stood, and you watched him unlace his breeches.

Your breath caught as he freed himself, his length standing proud and ready, the tip leaking in anticipation. Cregan positioned himself at your entrance, running his tip through your slick folds, his eyes locked on yours.

“Are you sure?” Cregan asked, his voice husky with desire but tinged with concern.

You hesitated for a moment, your mind warring with your heart and body. Everything in you yearned for this, for him, but you knew the consequences could be devastating. Yet as you looked into his eyes, seeing the love and longing there, you found yourself nodding.

With a low groan, he slowly pushed into you, stretching and filling you completely. You gasped at the sensation, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your body adjusted to his size. He stilled once fully sheathed, his forehead resting against yours as you both panted.

Fuck.

“Gods, you feel incredible,” Cregan murmured, his forehead resting against yours as he stilled his movements. “So perfect.” 

After a moment, you rolled your hips experimentally, drawing a sharp intake of breath from Cregan. Taking that as encouragement, he began to move, starting slow but quickly building to a frantic pace. The room filled with the sounds of your gasps and moans, skin slapping against skin.

“Cregan,” you cried out as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Oh gods, right there.”

He growled in response, snapping his hips harder. One of his hands snaked between your bodies to rub circles on your clit. The dual sensations had you spiraling toward release.

“Cregan,” you panted, feeling yourself nearing the edge. “I’m close. Oh, fuck. I'm close...”

“Come for me, my love,” he urged, circling your clit in time with his thrusts. “Let me feel you. Let me hear you.”

It was all too much. With a cry of his name, you shattered, waves of pleasure washing over you. Your walls clenched around his length, pulling him over the edge with you. Cregan buried his face in your neck as he spilled inside you, painting your walls with his essence, his hips jerking erratically.

As you both came down from your high, reality started to set in. Cregan rolled to the side, pulling you against his chest. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of what you’d done hanging heavy in the air.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” you whispered finally, even as you nestled closer to him.

Cregan’s arms tightened around you. “I know. But I don’t regret it. I meant what I said before,” he murmured into your hair. “I love you. And I’ll find a way to make this right. I promise.”

You wanted desperately to believe him. To have faith in his words. But as you lay in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had just made everything far more complicated.

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[companionjones]

Days, Weeks, Months, Years (7/10)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Warnings: Angst

1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // 10

*******

"Alright, ladies and gents. We got a live one. And by live one I mean a live--Y/n."

Your eyes were still puffy from crying so much the night before, but you still tell everyone's eyes were on you as you entered the briefing room late.

Tina was in your seat next to Bucky, but she was giving you a death glare. Bucky must have ended things with her the night before. Nat was the only one not looking at you. If Tina's look could've killed you, the glare Nat was giving Tina would have disintegrated the latter.

Finally, albeit quickly, your eyes landed on Bucky's. He barely looked better than you did. The man obviously didn't sleep the night before and, oh god, his eyes were puffy too. Bucky's were the only eyes that didn't move from their target when Steve cleared his throat to get the attention of the room again.

"It's good to see you, Agent, L/n. We're going to need all the help we can get for this next mission, especially with Thor off-world."

All you could do was nod.

"Tony, continue," urged Steve.

It took Iron Man a moment to recover. "A live HYDRA base...was what I was going to say. The location is on your tablets."

Steve continued, "It's been a while since we found a HYDRA base, so we don't know what to expect. So--"

"Expect anything," you finished for him.

Steve nodded then. "Right. Wheels up in 10. Y/n, may Tony and I speak with you?" He added once everyone started to disperse.

"Of course."

Tina shot a gloating look at you that made you feel like you were about to get in trouble.

"Can you do this today?" Steve asked you outright once the room had cleared.

"What makes you think I can't?"

"Funny. But we're serious this time, Y/n." Tony got up from his seat.

Steve asked you, "Are you going to be able to work with all the members of this team?"

You bit back a remark about why Tina, Bucky, and even Nat weren't asked the same question. You bit back every emotion you had felt for the last 46 days.

"Yes, sir," you answered.

*******

1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // 10

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlists. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

Next part gets crazy.

*******

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Chapter Four

Chapter Four of Man of Honor

Series Masterlist ❖ Main Masterlist ❖ House Of The Dragon Masterlist

Rating: 18+ Word Count: ~3k Summary: Cregan has a much needed conversation with Arra and Sara shares some news. Meanwhile, you contemplate what the future could hold. Warnings: Angst angst angst, language, fluff, slow burn, pining

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Cregan put his head in his hands and let out a heavy sigh.

Why must the gods torment me?

Since waking from his dream, he had sat in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Why?

He was perplexed by the images he had seen.

The words he had heard.

The feelings that had been evoked in him.

He had dreamed of you.

Of having you.

Of loving you.

But it would not be so.

Why must they taunt me in this way?

He had made a mistake, and the dream had given him a glimpse of what he could never have.

Cregan sighed again, then stood up and got dressed. As he looked out his window at the dimly lit sky, a feeling of unease filled his heart. Making his way to the stables, he noticed a dark figure crossing the courtyard toward the kitchens.

He watched as the figure stopped and slowly turned, his grey eyes meeting yours. He sucked in a breath as you turned and shook your head, hastily making your way to the kitchens where you would surely find his sister breaking fast.

Cregan watched you disappear through the doorway before turning and continuing his walk to the stables. It had been some time since he had ridden through the Wolfswood, and he felt it would do him some good. As he arrived at the stables, he spotted an unexpected figure.

Arra.

“Good morrow,” he greeted politely, approaching his horse and stroking its back.

Arra turned at the sound of his voice and smiled, patting her own horse.

“Good morrow, Lord Stark,” she replied. “I thought I was alone in being awake at such an unearthly hour.”

“I thought the same,” Cregan responded, watching her place a saddle on her horse. He walked over to his own saddle, picked it up, and ran a hand down the leather.

“May I inquire as to why?” Arra asked. Cregan turned, setting the saddle atop his horse and fastening it a bit more roughly than intended, causing the stallion to let out a huff.

“I could not sleep, and it has been too long since I’ve ridden through the Wolfswood.”

“It is unfortunate that sleep eludes you, my lord,” Arra said sincerely. “Would you be opposed to me accompanying you? It has been quite a while since we last rode together.”

Cregan inwardly cringed at her words, knowing that he had been avoiding her due to his inner conflict about you, and he had hoped that she had not noticed.

“Nothing would please me more, my lady,” he spoke with a smile. Arra returned his smile and swung her leg up to mount her horse, and Cregan did the same.

“Shall we, my lord?”

“Lead the way.”

The two rode out of Winterfell. As they crossed through the South Gate and turned toward the Wolfswood, Cregan took in a deep breath. The cold wind stinging his cheeks provided a strange sense of comfort, and he closed his eyes, savoring the near silence around them, the steady beat of hooves the only sound he heard. As they crossed the tree line into the forest, Cregan slowed his pace to a trot, and Arra fell into place beside him.

“May I speak freely?” Arra asked, her voice breaking the silence and drawing Cregan from his thoughts. He had nearly forgotten she was there and chastised himself for it.

“Of course,” he answered, turning to meet her gaze.

“What ails you?” she asked, her concern evident. “It has been some time since we last rode together. One might think you are avoiding me.” Cregan bit his lip, trying to think of an excuse that might satisfy her.

“You need not answer if you do not wish to discuss it,” she continued, sensing his discomfort. “I am merely curious. Have I done something to offend you, my lord?”

“No,” Cregan finally replied. “You have not offended me, my lady. There are just… some matters that have arisen and drawn my attention more than I anticipated.”

“I apologize for my behavior,” he added. “It was not my intent to cause you distress with my actions.” Arra shook her head at his words.

“There is no need,” she stated. “I understand that you have more pressing concerns to tend to as the Warden of the North, and you have much on your shoulders.” Cregan offered her a smile, not knowing how to respond.

She is too kind.

“However, as your betrothed, I feel I am owed an explanation regarding your behavior.”

Cregan’s throat grew dry as she spoke. She was right; they were betrothed, and he knew he should do what was right and tell her the truth, even if he wasn’t sure what that truth was. The weight of his unspoken feelings pressed heavily on him.

“I apologize, my lady,” he finally said, anxiety twisting in his stomach. “I have not been forthcoming, and as my betrothed, you should know the truth.” Cregan looked down at his hands, reins clenched tightly in his fists.

“Please know it is nothing you have done, or are lacking,” he began, uncertain how she would react. “But I have realized that another may hold my affection.”

“I see,” she replied. Cregan looked over at her as she pulled her horse to a stop. “However, we are betrothed, and it is my duty to uphold that oath.”

“Does this person know of your fondness for them? And do they return such fondness?” Cregan shook his head.

I doubt she feels anything but hate for me at the moment

More likely, she would wish to see my head on a pike.

“I do not completely understand my feelings,” he admitted, “but regardless, I do not intend to forsake my duty.”

“I do not think it fair that you set aside your feelings, my lord,” Arra responded. “If this person were to return them, would it not be more prudent to pledge yourself to them?”

“My lady, Starks do not forget their oaths. I have made mine to you, your family, and the North.” As Cregan spoke, bile rose in his throat, knowing he had already broken an oath to you. “In time, I’m sure feelings may grow between us instead.”

You are an idiot.

“Perhaps, but perhaps not,” she countered. “In any case, I would like for us to be completely honest with each other from now on. Should things change between you and whoever holds your affection, I hope you will tell me so as not to make a fool of us both.”

“Of course, my lady,” Cregan agreed, nodding.

She truly is too kind.

“I am glad to have gotten some clarity from you, my lord,” Arra said, looking up at the now fully lit sky. “Shall we return?” Cregan nodded and they nudged their horses forward to return to Winterfell.

Upon their return to Winterfell, the two parted ways—Arra heading to the Guest House and Cregan setting off to find Sara. He needed to speak with her and perhaps gain more advice, especially after the conversation he had just had with Arra.

Cregan’s first stop was the kitchens, knowing his sister loved experimenting with new recipes, but she was nowhere to be found. His next destination was the library, yet that too proved fruitless. Finally, he made his way to the Glass Gardens, where he found her tending to various fruits, carefully picking the ripe ones and placing them into her basket.

“Cregan!” Sara greeted him with a warm smile when she caught sight of her brother. “What brings you here?”

“I wanted to speak with you,” he replied.

“Yes, I gathered,” she retorted, rolling her eyes at his lack of subtlety. “What is it?”

“I spoke with Arra,” he began, and Sara raised an eyebrow.

“And?”

“She asked why I have been avoiding her.”

“It seems that has become your latest talent, brother,” she quipped. Cregan shot her a glare and shook his head, refusing to let her get under his skin. “But go on.”

“I spoke of my feelings,” he admitted, “and apologized for my behavior.”

“Oh? And what feelings might those be?” Sara asked, curious of what he had told the noblewoman.

“I told her that I may hold affection for another,” he confessed.

His words took Sara by surprise.

“And what were her thoughts on the matter?”

“She was unexpectedly understanding,” he replied. “And –“

“And?”

“I did not say who it was I held feelings for, but it seems she supports them regardless,” he said.

Sara hummed thoughtfully at his admission.

“In support of your feelings?”

“Yes.”

“In what manner?”

“She said she did not think it fair for me to set aside my feelings for the sake of duty.”

“Well, she is not mistaken.”

“Do you think I don’t know this?”

“No, but you have been quite stupid as of late,” Sara responded. “And you have also made it abundantly clear that you will chose duty above all else.”

“I know,” Cregan said softly. “And now I am unsure of what to do.”

“What is it you mean?”

“I have a duty to uphold, but I also cannot deny what my heart feels.”

“Best you come to a decision on that, and soon,” Sara warned.

“For what reason?”

“For the reason that she may be thinking of her future,” his sister spoke, “one with someone else. One without you.”

Cregan’s heart clenched at what his sister’s warning.

Could it be?

Were you truly considering marriage to another?

You absently stared at the ceiling as hot water swirled around you, licking your skin with its heat. After your conversation with Sara, you had gone to the library to reflect on she had said and began to write a list of suitors who had made their intentions known to you over the years. The more you wrote, the more daunting the idea of finding a husband and leaving Winterfell became. You compiled over a dozen names, many of them belonging to men you had never met, much less heard of, though a few familiar ones stood out.

Manderly.

Bracken.

Lannister.

Glover.

Blackwood.

Dustin.

Royce.

Baratheon.

Mooton.

Bolton.

Hightower.

Tully.

Arryn.

Tyrell.

Frey.

Reed.

Hornwood.

Cerwyn.

The last one piqued your interest. Over the years, you hadn’t paid much attention to who your suitors were, often brushing them off without even looking at their names. So, seeing the name of Cregan’s best friend on your list struck you as strange, though not entirely out of the realm of possibility. After all, the three of you had grown up together, with Castle Cerwyn only half a day’s ride from Winterfell, and you were all around the same age.

You were certain that Lord Cerwyn faced just as much pressure as Cregan when it came to marriage and producing an heir, so it shouldn’t have surprised you that he might consider you as a match. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel confused, given that he was well aware of your predicament regarding Cregan.

You bit your lip, recalling the last time you’d seen Lord Cerwyn and the conversation that followed. It had been several moons ago, when he came to join Cregan on a hunt. By then, Arra had been in Winterfell for some time, and Cregan spent all his time with her, prompting you to keep your distance. Still, you had run into Lord Cerwyn in the kennels on the morning of the hunt, and the two of you had spoken about why he hadn’t seen you around as often.

- FLASHBACK -

The crunching of footsteps pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked up to see Lord Cerwyn entering the kennels, a surprised expression crossing his face as he took in the sight of you sitting on the ground, the head of a large hound resting in your lap.

“My lady,” he greeted, bowing his head politely. “I did not expect to find you here. And at this hour.”

“I often come here to think. Either here or the godswood,” you replied with a small smile. “It has been some time since we last saw each other, Lord Cerwyn.”

“Indeed, it has,” he agreed. “How do you fare?”

Unsure how to answer, you drew in a breath and looked down at your hands, running your fingers over the hound’s ears to maintain your composure.

“I have seen better days,” you admitted with a sigh. “And you?”

“I’ve been well,” he replied, noticing the shift in your demeanor. “What troubles you?”

“Nothing of importance,” you deflected. You knew each other well enough to recognize when the other was lying, so you tried to dodge his questioning—especially since he was Cregan’s best friend.

“My lady, we’ve been friends since we were children. Please, don’t lie to me,” he insisted, sitting beside you on the ground. “Does it have anything to do with your absence around Winterfell?”

Damn.

You groaned, turning to look at him. “Nothing eludes you, does it?”

“Few things do. Now, tell me, are you avoiding a certain nobleman?”

“I’m not avoiding anyone,” you snapped a little too quickly.

“Ah, so you are,” he retorted with a chuckle. “And does this nobleman happen to be tall, with dark hair and strikingly good looks?”

“I’m not avoiding you if that is what you’re asking.”

“I wasn’t talking about me, my lady. Though it does warm the heart to know you find me so handsome.”

“Shut up,” you bit back, rolling your eyes at your friend’s teasing. You knew exactly who he meant, and he knew that too.

“I only jest,” he said with a grin. “But it seems you’re avoiding our dear Lord of Winterfell. Now, why would that be?”

“I already told you—I’m not avoiding anyone.”

“You and I both know that’s a lie.”

“It’s not.”

“Then why haven’t I seen you and Cregan together? Not once have I seen you around him. In fact, you always seem to vanish whenever he appears.” You silently scratched the dog’s ear in response.

“Does a Lady Norrey have something to do with it?”

“No,” you mumbled, and he nudged your shoulder. “Maybe.”

“Tell me.”

“It does not matter.”

“It does.”

“I – I don’t – I don’t want to talk about it,” you muttered, gently pushing the hound’s head off your lap. Lord Cerwyn placed a hand over yours and gave it a light squeeze.

“I know.”

“What?”

“I know,” he repeated. “About your feelings.”

“I don’t know what you mea – “

“I know how you feel about Cregan,” he said. “I know you love him.”

“I don’t,” you huffed.

“You do,” he insisted. “Everyone sees it.”

“No, they don’t,” you argued. “Because it’s not true.”

“Yes, it is, and yes, they do.”

“I don’t lo –“

“Don’t lie to me,” he interrupted. “And please don’t lie to yourself.” You glared at him.

“I’m not lying to myself,” you growled.

“Yes, you are,” he said, chastising you. “We both know it.”

You crossed your arms and let out a frustrated huff.

“Fine,” you conceded. “But it means nothing.”

Lord Cerwyn shook his head.

“It does to you.”

“Yes, well,” you said, standing and brushing dirt from your clothes, “it doesn’t mean anything to him. And nothing can be done about it.”

“You don’t know that,” your friend countered, rising to his feet.

“Yes, I do,” you replied with a hint of annoyance. “If it mattered to him, he wouldn’t have pledged himself to her.” Before he could respond, a stableboy appeared at the entrance of the kennels, pausing when he saw you and the young lord.

“Apologies, my lord, my lady,” he said. “Lord Stark asked me to fetch the hounds for the hunt. My lord, your horse is also saddled and waiting at the gate.”

Lord Cerwyn nodded, and the two of you left the kennels as the stableboy went to gather the hounds. Once outside, you stopped and turned to your companion.

“Lord Cerwyn, it was a good to see you,” you said, “I pray that your hunt is successful.”

“Thank you, my lady,” he replied, leaning in to place a light kiss on your cheek. “Until next time.”

You gave him a smile before turning toward the library, his gaze lingering on you as he headed in the opposite direction toward Hunter’s Gate, where his horse awaited.

- END FLASHBACK -

If you had glanced behind you that day, you would have seen Cregan sitting astride his horse by the gate, waiting for his friend.

If you had taken a moment to turn and look, you would have caught Cerwyn smirking as he watched his best friend watching you, a glint of jealousy in the Warden’s eyes.

You sighed, absentmindedly dipping your fingers into the water as you reflected on the memory—and on Cerwyn’s name appearing among the suitors on your list.

There could be worse choices.

Like a Lannister.

Or a Bolton.

Besides, Cerwyn and I already know each other.

And he knows how I feel about Cregan.

So why would he want to court me?

Then again, it might not be so bad.

Maybe I could even grow to love him one day.

But how would Cregan feel?

You groaned; even when thinking of your future with another man, you still thought of Cregan and his feelings.

Fuck his feelings.

Like Sara said, I need to start thinking about myself.

You shook your head and stood up, grabbing your robe as you stepped out of the water. Retrieving a hairbrush, you padded over to a chair by the fire, took a seat, and began to brush your hair.

At least I have some time before I have to make a decision.

Little did you know, the next few months would hold more changes than you anticipated.

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[thewolvesofthenorth]

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Chapter Six

Chapter Six of Man of Honor

Series Masterlist ❖ Main Masterlist ❖ House Of The Dragon Masterlist

Rating: 18+ Word Count: ~5k+ Summary: The morning after. Warnings: Angst angst angst, language, fluff, slow burn, pining, SMUTTY GOODNESS (fingering, p in v) Author’s Note: After everyone’s reactions to chapter five, I’ve been extra motivated to get the next few chapters for this story cranked out. I hope you all enjoy! Comments, feedback, and reblogs are always appreciated. 🫶

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The moment you had just shared with Cregan had been incredible, something you had only dreamed of having, and although you knew that it was wrong, a part of you did not regret it.

Hearing his words, his confession of love, had how he was willing to give up everything just for you, had left you floating. However, it was still wrong, and you feared of what the consequences would be.

What have we done?

What’s going to happen now?

Would he truly forsake his duty to the North and choose me?

What if it was all a lie?

Did he mean what he said?

You stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours, listening to Cregan’s soft snores, as you laid in his warm embrace, until sleep finally took you.

You were pulled from your slumber when Cregan pulled you closer to his body, and you felt a hardness press against your lower back. Your body, reacting to Cregan’s of its own accord, had you pushing against him in return, and you bit your lip when he let out a low groan in his sleep. His arm tightened around you, hand drifting down to the apex of your thighs, and you held your breath as his fingers grazed your mound.

Is he awake?

Cregan had given you no sign that he was awake, his breathing still heavy with sleep, but you began to question it further when he once again moved. You held back a gasp when his fingers dipped between your legs and caressed your opening, collecting your wetness and then circling your clit with his fingertips.

He continued to alternate between circling your bud and teasing your hole, and your core grew wetter and hotter with each passing moment. But then he pushed a finger slowly into your heat, and you could not help but release a soft moan, your hips tilting into his touch.

Oh, Seven hells.

You gnawed on your lip, trying to control your breathing, as a second finger joined the first in its exploration. You were still a little tender, but the ever-growing amount of slick leaking out of you made it easier to take his thick fingers in. Cregan’s thumb pressed against your clit as his fingers continued to slowly pump in and out of you, and you began to grind against his palm.

Gods, his fingers feel so good.

You panted as his pace quickened, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you drew closer and closer to the edge. Still wondering if he was awake or asleep, you turned your head to find his eyes still closed, but a small smile sat upon his lips.

The bastard is awake!

No longer concerned with waking him, you began to rut against his hand, whimpering when he curled his fingers and stroked your sweet spot.

“Don’t be shy, love,” he breathed, lightly nipping at your earlobe. “Let me hear you.”

He withdrew his fingers and rubbed your clit as he shifted, sliding his length between your wet thighs. You gasped as Cregan's thick length slid between your slick folds, teasing your sensitive flesh. His hand moved to grip your hip as he slowly rocked against you, his cock gliding back and forth along your slit.

Cregan groaned and captured your lips in a searing kiss as he grinded against you. The friction was maddening, stoking the fire building low in your belly. You whimpered into his mouth, desperately seeking more.

Seeming to sense your need, Cregan shifted and slowly pushed inside you. You both moaned as he sank deep, stretching and filling you completely.

"Gods, you’re taking me so well," Cregan breathed against your skin. His hand splayed across your stomach, holding you close as he began to move, setting a languid pace as he rocked into you from behind. One hand gripped your hip while the other snaked around to tease your clit. Pleasure radiated through your body with each thrust, building steadily higher.

"Cregan," you gasped, clutching at his arm.

He quickened his pace in response, driving into you more forcefully. The new angle had him hitting that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. Combined with his fingers on your clit, it was rapidly pushing you towards the edge.

"Let go, love," Cregan urged. "I've got you."

With a few more well-aimed thrusts, you shattered. Waves of bliss crashed over you as you cried out Cregan's name. He groaned and followed you over the edge, spilling himself deep inside you.

As you both came down from your post-coital bliss, Cregan peppered soft kisses along your neck and shoulder. He held you close, his arms a warm cocoon of safety and comfort. However, your fragile bubble of happiness burst under the weight of reality when the first light of dawn broke through the night sky.

Cregan sighed and released his hold on you, stretching his back, and you couldn’t help but admire the way the muscles rippled.

“I should probably go,” he reluctantly said. You nodded in understanding, knowing that it would be a scandal should anyone find the Lord of Winterfell exiting your chambers at an inappropriate hour.

“Best be quick about it,” you stated as you sat up, holding a fur against your chest to cover your modesty and somehow shield your heart. Cregan quickly dressed and sat at the edge of your bed, placing his hand against your cheek.

“I know you probably don’t believe me, but I meant the everything I said last night,” he reiterated with a kiss. “I love you.”

You returned the kiss, and he got up and quietly opened the door to leave. He turned to look at you one more time and you gave him a small smile, however on the inside you were an anxious wreck.

Cregan quietly shut the door and turned to walk to his chambers, his mind swirling with the events of the night. For once, he had let himself go and not held back his feelings. He had confessed his love to you, and he felt lighter for it.

However, a dark cloud also loomed over him. He knew that he had placed himself in an impossible position, caught between doing what he was duty bound to do, and what he wanted to do for himself.

Cregan knew that what the two of you had done was irresponsible, especially since he was still betrothed to Arra. And he had taken your maidenhood, something that was deeply frowned upon, especially since it was out of wedlock. He was aware that there would be dire consequences for his actions, and he needed to take time to figure out what he was going to do.

Cregan was so preoccupied with his pondering on his way to his chambers, that he did not realize that someone was waiting for him outside his door.

“Cregan,” a voice called, and his eyes snapped towards where the dimly lit figure sat.

“Cerwyn,” he awkwardly greeted as his friend stepped into the light. Cerwyn was no idiot. Cregan knew that from his disheveled appearance, the direction he had been coming from, and the unusual hour, his friend would easily surmise the situation.

“Taking a late-night stroll, my friend?” Cerwyn jested with a grin. “Or shall I say an early-morning one?”

“Uh…” Cregan scrambled to produce an answer but came up short.

“Perhaps we should speak somewhere more private,” Cerwyn suggested, sensing Cregan’s unease at giving an answer in such an exposed space. Cregan nodded and pushed the door to his solar open, quickly stepping inside, his companion following closely behind him.

Cregan ran a hand through his unruly hair, still damp from the heat of the night. He tried to compose himself as Cerwyn shut the door behind him, leaning casually against it with his arms crossed.

“Well,” Cerwyn began, his tone light yet laced with knowing. “I take it the feast was not the only eventful part of your evening? I’d wager a full cask of wine that your ‘stroll’ had something to do with her.”

Cregan shot him a sharp look, but there was no malice behind it. He sighed heavily, sinking into the chair by the hearth, his broad shoulders slumping under the weight of the situation. “Spare me your jests, Cerwyn.”

“No jests, then. But do not bother denying it,” Cerwyn said, stepping away from the door and closer to the desk where Cregan now stood. “You look like a man who has both won a battle and lost a war in the same night. And the direction you were coming from makes it rather obvious.”

For a long moment, Cregan said nothing. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the faint crackle of the dying embers in the hearth. Finally, Cregan spoke, his voice low. “I have made a mess of things.”

Cerwyn raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt, letting his friend continue.

“I… I love her, Cerwyn,” Cregan admitted, his words heavy with emotion. “I’ve loved her for years, longer than I care to admit. And last night… I told her. I told her everything.”

“And?” he prompted.

“And I acted on it,” Cregan confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I could not stop myself. I did not want to. But now… gods, Cerwyn, I do not know what to do. I am betrothed to Arra. I have a duty to my house, to the North. But I cannot—” He broke off, his hands clenching into fists. “I can’t let her go.”

Cerwyn leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Cregan, I have known you long enough to see the way you look at her. And I have known her long enough to see the way she looks at you. But this… this is not just about the two of you...”

Cregan looked away, his jaw tight. “I know that. I know I have made things worse for her—for both of us. But for one night… I did not care. For one night, I let myself have her. I should not have… but I could not stop myself.”

“Cregan, you know what this could mean—what it will mean—if anyone finds out. It will not just be your honor on the line. It will be hers as well.”

“I know,” Cregan snapped, his voice tinged with frustration and guilt. “But I—damn it, Cerwyn, I love her. I have always loved her.”

Cerwyn’s expression softened in understanding. “But love alone doesn’t untangle this mess you’ve made.”

Cregan looked away, his jaw tight. “I know that. I am bound to Arra, as my duty demands. But my heart… my heart belongs to her. It always has. But I know I cannot easily break my oath to Arra. It is more than a marriage; it is an alliance. It is the future of the North.”

Cerwyn straightened, his brow furrowing as he studied his friend. “And what about her future, Cregan? What about her happiness? Do you think she will wait for you forever while you tear yourself apart trying to please everyone but her? She has turned down every suitor, myself included, because she has waited and continues to wait. She has countless men vying for her attention, and yet all she sees is you. Any man would happily make her their bride, but she does not want just any man, Cregan. She wants you. I have loyally stood by your side over the years, and I will do so until my final breath, but I refuse to let her heart keep breaking over you. If you choose to pursue her, then pursue her properly, do not continue to taint her honor and yours. But should you choose to cast her aside once more, I will seek her hand and try to give her the happiness that she deserves.”

Cregan opened his mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. He had no answer—at least not one that would satisfy either of them.

Cerwyn sighed, stepping back, and giving Cregan a look that was equal parts exasperation and sympathy. “You need to make a choice, Cregan. And soon. Because if you do not, you will lose her. And I promise you, that loss will haunt you far more than breaking an alliance ever could.”

With that, Cerwyn turned and walked to the door, pausing only to glance back at Cregan one last time. “You may be Lord of Winterfell, but even a lord cannot have everything. Remember that, my friend.”

And then he was gone, leaving Cregan alone in the dim light of his solar, his thoughts a storm of guilt, longing, and the faint, flickering hope that he could somehow find a way to set things right. The choices before him were clear, but none of them came without a cost.

He would either lose you or lose the North.

Once Cregan left, you laid back and stared at the ceiling, contemplating whether you should try to sleep or not. You closed your eyes and tried to clear your head, but to no avail. In the absence of Cregan’s warm embrace, you could not sleep.

Sitting up, you began to dress, the brightening light of morning peeking through the window offering a semblance of comfort in such a dreary place. Brushing your hair, you thought of what the day would bring.

Would Cregan keep his promise?

He does not exactly have the best history of keeping them.

Last night should not have happened.

Or this morning.

It was wrong.

But also felt so right.

What am I going to do?!

Sighing heavily, you grabbed your cloak and made your way through the faintly lit halls, opting to speak to Sara about what had occurred the night before. Even with the thick furs around your body, the halls of Winterfell seemed more cold than usual, and you could not help but quicken your steps.

At first, you looked in the kitchens but found no sight of her. You knew it she would not be in the Glass Gardens just yet, so you surmised that she must be in the library. You hastily made your way up the steps of the Library Tower, the cold no longer bothering you. Entering the tower, you spotted Sara in the corner, placing books back on a shelf.

She gave you a smile when she saw you, however the gloom expression on your face quickly made her concerned.

“I would say good morrow, however it seems that it may not be so,” she stated, placing her books on a nearby table. You shook your head.

“I have something I would like to discuss with you,” you said, not caring for formalities at such an early hour. Sara gestured to a set of chairs by a window, and you promptly took a seat, trying to steady your breathing after rushing up the steps.

“What is it?” she inquired. “Are you unwell?” You shook your head again.

“No,” you answered. “But…. I fear that I may have made a grave mistake last night after the feast.” She looked at you and nodded to continue.

“Cregan came by my chambers,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of the admission pressing down on your chest, and you couldn’t quite meet her eye.

“And?” she prompted gently, though there was a flicker in her gaze that made your stomach turn. You shift your weight, your hands fidgeting on your lap

“And… I made a mistake.” The words come out softer than you intended, but they feel heavy in the air between you.

Sara didn’t immediately react, letting the moment stretch. When she spoke, her voice was steady and careful.

“What kind of mistake?”

You risked a glance at her, worried about how she would react to what you were about to tell her. She remained neutral, her face betraying nothing. You knew then that she would not judge you. So, you swallowed back your pride and confessed.

About Cregan, about his confession and his promise.

About his declaration of giving up the North just to be with you.

And how you told him not to do such a rash thing.

About you and him, together.

About last night, and how it felt to be in his arms.

You confessed about the events of the morning, the way that it felt to have him touch you.

You confessed that you had given him your maidenhead, something that was supposed to be saved for your future husband.

Your friend didn't move or speak, letting you get all of it out.

You had not meant for him to come to your chambers and confess his love for you.

You had not meant for the two of you to be together.

But it had happened.

And there was no going back.

Sara took a deep breath and placed her hand on top of yours, her gaze unwavering.

"I know that you love him, and now you know that he loves you, but what you did was very foolish.”

“I know,” you replied, your head hung low.

Sara’s hand tightened slightly over yours, not in reprimand but in reassurance. Her expression softened, though there was a shadow of worry behind her eyes.

“You’ve done something that can’t be undone,” she said quietly, her voice firm but kind. “I am not here to judge you, but I cannot ignore the consequences either. If anyone finds out, it will not just be your reputation at stake—it could ruin you both. And if Cregan does not act carefully, it could bring shame upon the Stark name as well.”

You nodded slowly, your stomach knotting with guilt and dread. “I know,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I know it was wrong, but I… I could not stop myself. I have loved him for so long, Sara. And for one moment, it felt like everything I had ever wanted was within my grasp.”

Sara’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she took a moment before responding. “You have always been strong, stronger than you realize. But love… love can make fools of even the wisest of us. I do not doubt Cregan loves you; he has made that clear. But what he does next matters far more than his words—or even what happened last night.”

You blinked at her, caught off guard by the clarity of her statement. “What do you mean?”

Sara sighed, leaning back in her chair. “He says he loves you, and I believe him. Saying that he would give up everything for you sounds romantic, but we all know that it would come at a terrible cost. Cregan is bound to the North, to duty, and to Arra. You were right to tell him not to abandon his duty. His choices will affect not just himself but his house, his people, and you. If he truly loves you, he will find a way to fight for you while protecting what he has now. That is what you deserve. Anything less, and he is not worthy of the love you have given him.”

Your chest ached at the truth in her words. “And if he doesn’t fight for me?”

Sara’s gaze hardened, though her voice remained gentle. “Then you must let him go. You cannot live your life as someone’s second choice, no matter how much you love him. You deserve more than stolen moments in the shadows—or the burden of a man who cannot choose you without destroying himself.”

Tears pricked your eyes, but you nodded, her words sinking into your heart like stones. “What should I do, Sara? I feel so… lost.”

She tilted her head, considering her words carefully. “For now, you must carry on as if nothing happened. Let Cregan come to you with a plan, if he has one. Do not chase him, do not plead for his love. He knows where you stand—he knows what he stands to lose. Let him decide if he is willing to risk it all for you. But be clear with yourself: if he offers you nothing but whispers in the dark and fleeting promises, you must walk away. That is not love—it is selfishness.”

You wiped at your eyes, grateful for Sara’s unwavering support. “And if he doesn’t come to me at all?”

Sara smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Then you will have your answer. And when that time comes, you will need to decide if you are willing to let someone else in—someone like Cerwyn, perhaps.”

Your heart twisted at the mention of Cerwyn. “He deserves someone who can love him fully. I do not know if I can give him that.”

Sara shrugged lightly. “Love is not always instant, nor is it always easy. But Cerwyn is a good man. He sees you, values you, and would give you a life filled with kindness and stability. That is more than many can say for their marriages.”

You did not respond, your mind whirling with conflicting thoughts and emotions. The warmth of the morning sun filtering through the window did little to chase away the chill in your bones.

After a long silence, Sara gave your hand one final squeeze before rising from her chair. “Whatever happens, I will stand by you. Just promise me one thing.”

You looked up at her, your voice barely audible. “What?”

“Promise me that you will protect yourself. Do not let love blind you to your own worth. You are more than someone’s secret, and you deserve to be someone’s first choice.”

Her words stayed with you long after she left the library, leaving you alone with your thoughts, and you could not help but wonder if Cregan would truly fight for you—or if his duty to the North would outweigh his love.

And if the answer were the latter, what would become of you?

The sun had just begun to crest over the horizon as you made your way to the stables, the early morning chill biting at your cheeks. Sara’s words still lingered in your mind, heavy and unrelenting, as you saddled your horse.

You needed clarity—space to think. A ride through the Wolfswood always helped to clear your head, the solitude of the trees offering a sense of peace you could not find within the walls of Winterfell.

As you led your horse from the stables, the sound of boots crunching against the frozen earth caught your attention. You glanced up to see Lord Cerwyn approaching on foot, his dark riding cloak draped over one shoulder.

Your mind drifted to the feast, recalling the brief conversation you’d had with Cerwyn amid the flurry of toasts and stolen glances. You had both agreed to meet, though neither of you had settled on when. Still, you had not expected to run into him so soon.

“Good morning, my lady,” he greeted, a warm smile softening his sharp features, though his brows lifted slightly in surprise. “I didn’t expect to see you so early.”

You managed a small smile, though your mind felt heavy. “Neither did I,” you admitted quietly. “But I suppose this gives us a chance to talk sooner rather than later.”

His smile widened, the warmth in his gaze unmistakable. “I won’t argue with that,” he said before his sharp eyes scanned your face. “Though you look like you have not slept.”

You glanced at your horse, already saddled and ready to ride, trying to deflect. “I just needed some air.”

“Planning to ride out alone?” he asked, his tone steady but touched with concern.

Your grip on the reins tightened defensively. “Yes,” you replied, though the word felt like an incomplete truth.

“Then let me join you,” he offered without hesitation, stepping closer. His tone was calm, unassuming, but his gaze held steady. “If you are going to ride out alone, you might as well have company.”

You hesitated, your eyes flickering over him. His presence was grounding, and part of you welcomed the thought of not being alone with your swirling thoughts. “Fine,” you said quietly, motioning toward the stable. “You had better saddle your horse, then.”

Without missing a beat, Cerwyn strode past you into the stable. It wasn’t long before he emerged leading his own mount, the movement swift and practiced. As he adjusted the reins and swung into the saddle, he cast you a sidelong glance. “You know, you’re not as convincing as you think when you say you’re fine.”

You shot him a look, but his smile was more knowing than teasing. “Im fine enough, Cerwyn” you muttered, climbing onto your own horse.

“We shall see about that,” he said lightly, as the two of you nudged your horses forward into the Wolfswood.

You rode in silence as the trees of the Wolfswood closed in around you, their bare branches casting long shadows across the frost-covered ground. The rhythmic sound of hooves against the earth filled the quiet, a steady cadence that seemed to ease some of the tension in your chest.

The frost-covered trees blurred past as you rode, the cool air biting at your cheeks. Lord Cerwyn rode beside you, his presence steady and quiet, though you could feel the weight of his gaze on you. He was not pressing you to speak, but his silence was deliberate, leaving the space open for you to fill it.

Finally, unable to hold it in any longer, you broke the stillness. “Something… happened last night,” you began, your voice shaking as you tightened your grip on the reins.

Cerwyn turned his head toward you, his expression calm but knowing. “With Cregan?”

Your stomach dropped. His tone wasn’t accusatory, but the way he said it—so sure—made your chest tighten. You nodded hesitantly, unable to meet his eyes. “He… he came to me after the feast,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “He said things—things I was not expecting. And I—” You stopped, your throat tightening as shame and confusion warred within you. “I gave myself to him.”

You braced yourself for judgment, but Cerwyn’s expression did not change. Instead, he slowed his horse, letting the silence stretch between you before speaking. “I know,” he said softly.

Your head snapped toward him, your breath hitching. “You… you know?”

Cerwyn’s gaze didn’t waver. “He told me.”

The words hit you like a blow, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. “What… what did he say?”

“Enough,” Cerwyn replied, his tone even. “Enough to know that he loves you, that he’s been carrying this weight for a long time, and that he’s made a mess of things—for both of you.”

You swallowed hard, the knot in your chest tightening. “I… I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to ruin everything.”

“You haven’t ruined anything,” Cerwyn said firmly. “The world may tell you otherwise, but that doesn’t make it true.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you shook your head. “I am no longer a maiden, Cerwyn. What man would want that? What kind of future could I possibly have now?”

Cerwyn slowed his horse further, his expression softening as he looked at you. “You think less of yourself because of what happened? You think it diminishes your worth?”

“I do not know what to think,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I have been told my whole life what I am supposed to be, how I am supposed to act. And now… I have ruined it all.”

He let out a quiet sigh, his gaze steady. “You are still you. You are still kind, strong, and endlessly stubborn. One night does not change that, and it certainly does not make you less deserving of love or happiness.”

You bit your lip, tears threatening to fall. “But if anyone finds out—if she finds out…”

“Arra,” he said knowingly.

You nodded, your hands trembling on the reins. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I never wanted this to happen. But I—” You faltered, the words catching in your throat.

“But you love him,” Cerwyn finished quietly.

Your breath hitched, and you looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” you murmured. “He is promised to her. He has duties, responsibilities… and I—”

“You think you’re not enough for him,” Cerwyn said, his tone gentle but unwavering. “But you are. You have always been enough. The question is not whether he loves you—it is whether he is willing to fight for you. And whether you are willing to let him.”

You stared at him, his words cutting through the fog of doubt clouding your mind. “You think he should fight for me?”

“I think you both need to decide what you want and what you’re willing to risk for it,” he replied. “This is not just about love. It is about choices—and consequences. If you two want to be together, you will have to face them together. But if you do not…” He trailed off, his expression tightening.

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling heavily on your chest. “What would you do?” you asked, your voice trembling. “If you were in his position?”

Cerwyn was silent for a long moment, his gaze distant as he considered your question. “I do not know,” he admitted finally. “I am not Cregan, and I cannot pretend to understand all that weighs on him. But if it were me… I would want to do what is best for both of us. Even if it meant letting go.”

Your brow furrowed, your heart aching at the thought. “Letting go?”

He gave a small, sad smile. “Sometimes love means making the harder choice. But it is not my choice to make—it is his. And yours.”

You looked away, tears slipping down your cheeks as his words settled deep within you. “It all feels so impossible.”

“It is,” Cerwyn said softly, “until it is not.”

You glanced back at him, his gaze steady and unwavering. Despite everything, he wasn’t judging you. He wasn’t condemning you. He was simply there, offering his quiet support.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

He reached over, his hand brushing yours briefly. “Always,” he said, and in that moment, you believed him.

The two of you continued your ride in silence, the Wolfswood stretching endlessly before you. But for the first time in what felt like days, a fragile, uncertain hope began to stir within your heart, subtle but undeniably there.

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[thewolvesofthenorth]

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Chapter Three

Chapter Three of Man of Honor

Series Masterlist ❖ Main Masterlist ❖ House Of The Dragon Masterlist

Rating: 18+ Word Count: ~3k Summary: Sara gives you some much needed advice and Cregan finds that dreams can be overwhelming, but so can reality.  Warnings: Angst angst angst, language, fluff, slow burn, pining

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It was just a dream.

You were wrapped Cregan's arms, his body radiating a warmth that not even a fire could offer. He had held you all night, keeping a firm hold on you as you soundly slept against him. And he had laid a kiss on your cheek before pulling you into a passionate kiss.

The near silent closing of your door had drawn you from your slumber and when you opened your eyes, you found yourself nestled beneath the furs of your bed and felt a tingling sensation on your cheek.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and let them adjust to your surroundings. It was still dark, so you guessed it was around the hour of the owl, which meant you hadn't been sleeping for very long. You were confused because you were certain you'd fallen asleep on top of your bedding the night before.

Stretching your limbs, you rolled over and caught a whiff of something you hadn't smelled in a very long time. A mix of oak, chestnut, and leather, with a hint of cinnamon. The distinct musk of a man who you'd been chastising mere hours ago.

Was it truly just a dream?

A hundred thoughts swam through your head as you sat up and looked at the spot beside you. To the untrained eye, the furs looked undisturbed, but to you there was a clear sign that someone else had been there. You placed your hand on the empty space and felt a lingering heat. Someone had laid beside you for much of the night and had left just moments ago.

You knew of only one person who would be brave enough, or in this case, foolish enough to come into your chambers. You rubbed your temples, unsure if your mind was playing tricks or if you were still dreaming, or if he had truly been there.

Why would he have been in here?

And why would he lay beside me?

You tried to think of every possible reason why Cregan would do such a thing and kept coming up blank. You let out a huff as you swung your legs over the side of the bed and padded over to your open window. The North was a cold and unforgiving place to those who were unaccustomed to such a cold climate, but to you it was home.

You leaned against the frame and admired the rare sight of the moon. Due to how cold it was, snowfall was not out of the ordinary, and the sky was often blanketed in clouds, but tonight the sky was strangely clear and the night peaceful.

You let out a sigh, reflecting on the events of the day. You’d given Cregan a piece of your mind, and then he’d decided to come into your room and lay beside you. You were conflicted. Cregan’s words in the godswood had cut into your heart like a knife, and yet his actions spoke differently.

You were a jumble of emotions. Irritation. Sadness. Anger. But beneath it all was also happiness. Knowing that Cregan had laid beside you made your heart flutter. As much as you claimed you hated him, you still loved him and couldn’t help but feel giddy at the thought of him lying next to you in such an intimate way.

You groaned at how childish you felt and how you still clung to the idea that he felt something for you. You huffed and stood back from the window, shaking all the thoughts from your head and decided to go to bed.

I need to talk to Sara tomorrow about what happened.

Cregan must have said something to her at least.

The next morning you’d woken up at the hour of the nightingale and quickly dressed, making it your goal to find Sara and talk to her about what had happened yesterday. Your head was still a mess of thoughts, and you needed her perspective on things.

You tip-toed through the halls as quietly as possible in case anyone else was awake at the same time, a certain Lord of Winterfell in particular, and made your way to the kitchens. As you crossed the courtyard, the hairs on your neck stood up and you felt like you were being watched. You paused and turned to look behind you and spotted his silhouette.

So much for trying to be sneaky.

Your eyes met his and even in the cover of near darkness, you could tell that he did not sleep well.

That makes two of us.

You broke eye contact and shook your head, tugging your pelts tight around you, and quickened your pace. You were already anxious about speaking to Sara about what had transpired, but at the sight of him your anxiety doubled.

He had looked very tired, but he also had an unreadable expression on his face, and if your intuition was correct, he had probably kept watching you as you walked away. After a moment, you crossed the threshold to the kitchens and spotted her bend over a steaming bowl of soup.

“Good morrow,” Sara greeted as you approached, her voice soft yet curious.

“Good morrow, Sara,” you replied, anxiously gnawing at your lip. Her eyes narrowed as she noted your restless fidgeting.

“What’s the matter?” she inquired, tilting her head. “You’re never so troubled at the day’s first light.”

“Erm—Cregan… ambushed me in the godswood,” you confessed, casting a quick glance at her. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything of that, would you?”

Sara set down her spoon with a sigh. “I may have told him where to find you.”

“Why?” you pressed, frowning deeply.

“Well, he wouldn’t stop hounding me, for one,” she admitted, waving her hand as if to dismiss the gravity of it.

“That does not answer my question,” you said sharply. “He’s been avoiding me for months, pretending I don’t exist, so why would he ask where I was?”

Sara winced, clearly withholding something. “He and I spoke of… certain matters. And no, I won’t tell you the details. Just know that I knocked some sense into him—or so I thought.”

You huffed in frustration, shaking your head. “And how did that go?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“Not well,” you muttered.

“What did he say?”

“He said… enough.”

Sara groaned in irritation. “Let me guess—you did not like his words.”

“Seven hells, no,” you scoffed. “He tried to apologize, then turned the blame on me. Said I’d been avoiding him too and claimed we were children when he swore to marry me, so it didn’t matter.”

“Ugh, he said that again?” Sara’s face twisted in disgust.

“Again?”

“Yes,” she sighed. “When we spoke, I told him why you had been avoiding him. And before you start, know that I care for you both, but he is still my brother—an utter fool, but my brother nonetheless.”

“So, he truly said the oath was made in youth, as though it carried no weight?”

“More or less,” Sara said, leaving out the part where she told him of your feelings. “But that’s all we spoke of.”

“I see…,” your voice trailed off, thinking about what had happened later that night after speaking to him. You were snapped back to reality when you heard Sara speak.

“What else happened?” she asked, not letting you slip away that easily.

“Nothing… Well, no, not nothing,” you began hesitantly. “I… I fell asleep in my chambers—”

“As one does,” Sara quipped, earning a sharp glare from you.

“—and I awoke later, likely around the hour of the owl, and… I believe he had been there.”

“What makes you think that?” Sara asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well… for one, I awoke covered by my furs. And…”

“And?”

“I could smell him,” you sheepishly admitted, wringing your hands nervously, recalling how his scent had filled your nose. Sara cleared her throat and shook her head.

“Smell him?” Sara’s mouth twitched into a grin. “Are you a direwolf now?”

“Do not mock me,” you snapped. “You asked, I answered.”

“I’m surprised that he would do that.”

“As am I,” you admitted. “Considering how we parted in the godswood, he had no reason to come to my chambers, let alone lie beside me.”

“Wait, he laid beside you?” Sara’s eyes widened.

“Uh… yes,” you confessed, blushing. “Which only confounds me further.”

“I would be as well if I were you.”

“I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m just wasting my time waiting for something that will never happen,” you said dejectedly. “Waiting for someone to love me the same way that I love

them.”

“Then perhaps it is time to stop waiting,” Sara suggested, her voice firm yet gentle.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it may be time to consider other suitors. Since your sixteenth name day, you’ve had suitors practically throwing themselves at you, and you’ve turned them all away. Maybe it’s time to think about your future.”

Her words hit you harder than you expected. You knew she spoke the truth, and you had been wrestling with the same thoughts, but hearing it aloud made it feel real.

“I - I don’t know,” you stammered, torn.

Sara took your trembling hands in hers. “I know it is hard. But you deserve happiness, and my brother cannot offer that.”

Your chest tightened, tears welling in your eyes. “Winterfell is my home,” you whispered. “If I wed another, I’ll have to leave… And I don’t know if I can bear it.”

Sara’s eyes softened with sympathy. “You deserve more. As much as I love Cregan, and as much as I wish things were different, he cannot be the one to give you what you need.”

Tears began to fall, and Sara pulled you into a warm embrace. “I don’t want to leave him,” you sobbed. “I love him, Sara. I love him.”

“I know you do,” she said comfortingly. “But he does not deserve that love. You deserve a man who will cherish you, not one who makes empty promises.”

You wiped your tears and nodded.

Sara offered you an encouraging smile. “In the next moon’s turn, we’ll hold a banquet to welcome the summer. Many of the Northern lords will be there, and it may be the time to consider your options.”

Your heart ached at the thought, but you nodded again, knowing she spoke the truth.

The fire crackled quietly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room as the warmth of the flames bathed the stone walls. Cregan watched you standing by the window, your thoughts drifting like the cool night breeze that seeped through the cracks. His presence was quiet but undeniable as he crossed the room, the sound of his boots against the floor echoing softly.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his deep voice gentle, fearing that any sudden movement might shatter the fragile peace that hung between you.

When you turned to face him, your eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of unspoken words lingered in the air, heavy and thick. Cregan’s gaze softened as he stepped closer, close enough that you could feel the heat of him even before he touched you.

“I don’t know,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. Cregan lifted his hand, carefully brushing a strand of hair from your face, his fingertips grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

There was a vulnerability in your eyes that he had not seen before, a vulnerability that mirrored his own. Without thinking, you leaned into his touch, and the space between you seemed to collapse. Cregan’s other hand found its way to the small of your back, drawing you nearer, his breath warm against your temple as he rested his forehead against yours.

Time slowed, the world outside falling away until it was just the two of you, wrapped in the quiet of the moment.

“I should have said this a long time ago,” he whispered, his voice strained with emotion. “I…. I love you. I’ve always loved you. And I’m sorry it took so long for me to see it.”

I’ll watched as your heart pounded visibly in your chest, the weight of his words sinking in. You closed your eyes, breathing in his scent—familiar, comforting, yet laced with the tension that simmered between you for what felt like an eternity.

The confession hung in the air, fragile and raw. Cregan’s fingers gently tightened against your skin, as if he feared you might slip away, but you remained still, rooted in the moment.

Slowly, as if giving you the chance to pull away, he tilted his head, allowing his lips to lightly brush yours. The kiss began softly, hesitant, but as you responded and pressed closer, it deepened into a dance of emotions that had finally boiled over.

You melted into him, the feel of your warmth grounding him amidst the storm of feelings surging through him. Each kiss was a promise, slow and intense, whispering the truths he had long kept hidden.

When he finally pulled away, his breath ragged, his forehead rested against yours once more. “I am yours,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. “If you would still have me.”

You opened your eyes, searching his face for any trace of doubt, but found none. There was only the truth of his words, the sincerity that echoed in the deepness of his gaze.

“Yes,” you said so softly that he almost didn’t hear it.

A smile broke across his face, and he dipped his head to capture your lips once more, pulling you flush against him as he wrapped his arms around you. The air in the room grew thick with desire as his tongue battled yours for dominance.

He kissed you like a man starved, as if you were the very air he needed to breathe. As he began tugging at the laces of your dress, you pulled at his tunic, the urgency of the moment igniting a frenzy.

Both your movements suddenly grew frantic, a flurry of clothes being haphazardly discarded onto floor as Cregan picked you up by your thighs and carried you to the bed, your lips never breaking contact.

As your back met the soft furs, he finally broke the kiss, his steel grey eyes meeting your own. In the depths of your gaze, he saw a fiery blend of longing and desire that matched his own in their intensity.

Cregan took a moment to take in your features—cheeks flushed, hair tousled, lips swollen—each detail stirring the emotions he had finally dared to embrace.

I almost lost her.

I can’t let it happen again.

It won’t ever happen again.

His heart was pounding in his chest as you threaded your fingers through his hair and brought his lips back to yours, a tenderness in your touch that lit a fire in him.

He wanted you.

He needed you.

And he was going to have you.

In that moment, something in Cregan snapped. He trailed a hand down your body to the apex of your legs and groaned at the wetness that greeted his fingers as he slipped one into your heat. You moaned at his touch, arching your back as he peppered your neck with kisses. The sounds he pulled from you spurred him on as he added a second finger and swirled them inside of you, pulling another loud moan from your lips.

He groaned when he felt your hand wrap around his length and began to pump, matched the rhythm of his own fingers. As he quickened his pace, your teeth met his shoulder in an attempt to quiet your moans of pleasure, and he grinned against your skin.

Cregan draw circles on your sensitive bud with his thumb, and he was filled with pride when he felt your walls clench around his fingers as you came with a small wail.

He brought his fingers to his lips and groaned at the taste of your essence. Never had he tasted something so sweet before, and he wanted more, but before he could make his way down, you wrapped your legs around him, pulling his hips to yours.

He nearly lost it when you guided him to your opening and rubbed the tip of his hardness with your juices, but he managed to stay in control for just a moment longer as he looked at you.

“Are you certain?” he asked, knowing that there was no going back for the two of you after this.

“I want it to be you,” you answered. “Take me, Cregan.”

Cregan saw stars as he finally sank into you. You felt so good. So soft. So tight. So perfect. He gave you a moment to adjust before he began to slowly move, groaning at the way your walls squeezed him. You felt good, too good, and he wasn’t sure how long he was going to last. You fit him like a glove, and he was in paradise.

Cregan’s breathing grew heavy as he looked down at you, admiring the way your face contorted with pleasure as he thrusted into your heat. The way your mouth fell open when he hit just the right spot, the way you dug your nails into his arms, and the way you sounded, pushed him closer to the edge. He was lost in the moment, plunging into you over and over, driving himself deeper and deeper, when he heard it.

“Cregan. Cregan, please.”

Cregan buried his face in your neck as he reached his peak and spilled inside of you with a grunt, your melodious voice being the catalyst to his release.

After a moment to catch his breath, he carefully withdrew himself out of you and rolled onto his back, pulling you to his side, with your head resting on his chest. You both lay there in peaceful bliss, savoring the intimate moment you had just shared—Cregan with his eyes closed, tenderly caressing your back while you drew small circles on his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat. The room was quiet, save for the light crackling of the fire, and as Cregan began to drift off, he heard it.

“I love you, Cregan.”

Cregan woke with a start. He sat up in bed and looked around franticly. The sky was dark but slowly starting to lighten, and he was alone in his chambers.

It was just a dream.

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