targtowerxstark

[targtowerxstark]

Hello dear, since your request are open, can you write about dragon dreamer reader as cregan wife? Thankyouu and have a nice day🙃🙃🙃🥰

I love this idea!!!. I’m working through requests now !!and please flood my inbox i love everyone’s ideas 🫶🏼

The Dreamer of Winterfell

Cregan Stark X Dragon dreamer wife

The wind howled across the vast, snow-covered lands of Winterfell, a relentless force that swept through the stone halls, rattling the windows and echoing through the chambers. Inside the great keep, a fire burned brightly in the hearth of the great hall, casting warm flickers of light across the carved wooden tables and the banners of House Stark.

Cregan Stark, the Lord of Winterfell, sat in his high seat, his broad frame casting a long shadow across the stone floor. His mind was far from the revelry of the feast that had begun earlier in the evening. He had other matters to attend to, matters far more pressing than the politics of the North. His thoughts were with his wife, the Lady y/n Targaryen, the dragon-blooded princess from the distant lands of the south.

Y/n, his beloved, had been restless these past few nights. She would wake him in the early hours, eyes wide and searching, speaking of dragon dreams that none could understand but her. Cregan had always been a man of reason, of solid ground beneath his feet, but he knew his wife was no ordinary woman. The blood of dragons ran through her veins, and with it, strange gifts—gifts that often brought her torment.

Tonight, as the wind whispered against the stone walls, y/n stood before the great window in their chamber, her slender form silhouetted against the pale moonlight. She was gazing out over the snow-draped landscape, her face pale and drawn with worry.

“y/n,” Cregan’s deep voice broke through the silence, causing her to turn. He had removed his cloak and gloves, his heavy fur-lined tunic still warm from the fire, but the coldness in his heart remained. “What is it? Another vision?”

She turned fully to face him, her violet eyes darker than usual, as if she had been drawn into some shadowy world from which she could not escape. “It was… different this time, my love,” she said softly, her voice a mix of sorrow and confusion. “The dragon called to me again, but this time… it did not speak in flames, Cregan. It was in whispers—dark, cold whispers.”

Cregan’s brow furrowed. He had long since learned that y/n’s dreams were no mere trappings of the mind. “Tell me, my lady,” he said, stepping closer to her, his large hands gently resting on her shoulders. “What did you hear?”

She closed her eyes, as though trying to recapture the vision. “The whispers spoke of a great shadow,” she murmured. “A darkness that would come from the farthest reaches of the North, from lands no man knows. It will bring the cold and death, Cregan. It will erase everything.”

His grip tightened slightly, though he remained calm. “You know that the dragons of old spoke in riddles. These whispers may be no more than a warning, but the true meaning may remain hidden.”

Y/n shook her head, her silver-blonde hair shimmering in the light of the hearth. “This time, I do not think it is just a warning. It feels like a truth, one that will soon come to pass. I saw it—so clearly. A frozen Lord, as white as snow, with eyes like blue sapphires. It sleeps beneath the ice and rises in the North, and the lands freeze in its wake. There is nothing left but frost and death.”

Cregan’s heart sank at her words. As much as wanted to believe these were just bad dreams, the very idea of a frozen lord, sleeping beneath the ice, bringing death to the lands he held so dear was a thought he could not bear. “You speak of something similar to white walkers my love, A threat of such power would be a terror to all the realm,” he said, his voice low and troubled. “But how can we stop it?”

Y/n turned away from him, walking slowly toward the window once more. She placed a hand on the cool glass, her breath fogging up the pane as she stared out into the vast, snow-filled night. “I do not know,” she said quietly. “The vision was so clear, so vivid, but there is nothing more. No answer. Only the certainty that it is coming.”

Cregan stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the world pressing on him. He had long known that the Targaryens carried both fire and blood, but it seemed that the gift his wife bore would soon bring them both to a crossroads.

"Y/n," he said, moving closer to her, his voice firm but filled with compassion. "We will face this together. Whatever this darkness is, whatever this cold might bring, we will stand as one. The North is strong, and so are we. The gods may have gifted you with these visions, but it is our will that will shape the future."

She turned to him, her eyes softening. "You have always been my strength, my love," she whispered, reaching out to take his hand in hers. "But I fear that even the might of Winterfell may not be enough to face what is coming."

Cregan's grip on her hand tightened. "Then we will seek out the answers,y/n. We will not sit idle and wait for this terror to claim us.“

Y/n closed her eyes, her forehead resting gently against his chest. “And what of the dream? The whispers of the cold and death? Should we ignore them?”

Cregan stroked her hair gently. “No,” he said firmly. “We will not ignore them. But we must prepare—seek counsel, gather strength. We will go to our allies, to those who know of the white walkers and the old prophecies. The North may be our home, but there are forces beyond the Wall and beyond the Reach that we must understand.”

Y/n pulled away slightly, her eyes meeting his. “You believe we can stop it?”

Cregan pulled her closed and whispered in her ear.

“We can only try my love”

[targtowerxstark]

Requests are open!!!! send Me Cregan Stark requests🫶🏼

[targtowerxstark]

Masterlist :)

Made from my iphone so the format is weird :/

•One shots

Series

[targtowerxstark]

A woman’s touch- Cregan Stark X Wife Reader.

(Fluff Drabble)

Summary: Cregan is helping train the young lads of Winterfell. While doing so he gets a cut on his arm from fighting. He returns to his shared chambers and his wife takes care of him. Which leads them to have an intimate conversation about his other scars.

———————-————————————-———-———Cregan Stark stood in the training yard, surrounded by the eager young lads of Winterfell. The air was crisp, with the scent of pine and snow lingering in the atmosphere. He exchanged a glance with his guard, Ser Jory, a loyal man with a quick wit.

"Shall we show them how it's done, Ser Jory?" Cregan challenged, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Only if you can keep up, my lord," Ser Jory replied, drawing his sword with a flourish.

The boys gathered around, eyes wide with anticipation. Cregan and Ser Jory circled each other, swords clashing in a dance of skill and experience. Cregan feinted to the left, then swiftly struck to the right, catching Ser Jory off guard. As Cregan looked at the young boys as he lowered his guard, Ser Jory took advantage, landing a quick strike that left a thin cut along Cregan's forearm. With a swift movement, he disarmed his guard, sending Ser Jory’s sword clattering to the ground.

"Impressive, my lord!" one of the lads exclaimed.

Cregan chuckled, but Wincing slightly, he shook his head, "A fine lesson for the boys, but I believe I shall need a moment to tend to my wounds."

With a nod to the lads, Cregan made his way to the shared chambers he had with his wife. He opened the door to find her nestled in bed, a raven from her brother resting beside her.

"Y/n," he called softly, a smile breaking through his fatigue.

She looked up, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Cregan, my love. How was the training? Did the boys impress you?"

"They showed promise," he replied, moving closer.” But winter is coming they must train harder, Though I fear I may have overestimated my own abilities today." He rolled up his sleeve, revealing the cut on his forearm.

Her expression shifted from curiosity to concern. "Oh, my love," she said, sitting up and reaching out to inspect the wound. "You must be more careful."

"It is but a scratch," he reassured her, though the warmth of her touch sent a shiver through him. "The lads needed to see that even seasoned men can falter. Winter is coming, and they must be prepared." He spoke as she climbed out of the bed to get a water basin and fabric from a nearby table.

As she cleaned the cut with gentle hands, he continued, "You should have seen the way they rallied. They are eager to learn."

"And you, my lord, are eager to teach," she teased lightly, her fingers brushing against his skin.

Cregan chuckled, “Aye, but I have my scars to show for it.” He gestured to the one on his jaw. “This one? A wilding thought he could challenge me.”

"And the one on your stomach?" she asked, her brow furrowing in concern.

"Ah, that was a deserter from the wall," he replied, a hint of pride in his voice. "He thought he could escape the North's justice."

"And the one on your hand?" she pressed, her gaze unwavering.

"That one," he said, a soft smile playing on his lips, "was from my uncle. It reminds me of my triumph against him”.

Y/n shook her head, a mixture of awe and concern in her eyes. "You have faced much, Cregan. But you are here now, and that is what matters."

He took her hand, intertwining their fingers. "And I shall always return to you, my love."

As the evening drew near, they settled into bed, the flickering candlelight casting a warm glow around the room. The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting the history of their house, and the scent of burning wood filled the air.

Y/n cuddled into his side, her head resting against his shoulder as they gazed out the window. Snowflakes began to fall gently, blanketing the world in white.

"Look at the snow," she murmured, her eyes reflecting the falling flakes. "It is beautiful."

"Much like you," he replied softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Together, they watched the winter wonderland unfold outside, wrapped in each other's warmth, knowing that whatever the future held, they would face it together.

[targtowerxstark]

Love in Disguise - Cregan Stark x Targtower reader.

requested by anon🫶🏼. send requests!

summary:The princess escapes kings landing after the death of her father and goes to the North. Cregan stumbles upon her “an orphaned woman” in the woods and allows her to work as a servant. As time goes on he becomes suspicious of her formal talk and graceful manner. All the while chaos is erupting in the realm as their princess is missing. Will Cregan soon discover her secret?….

In the early hours of the morning the cold winds howled through the halls of the castle as Princess y/n sat in her chamber, the weight of her father’s death pressing heavily on her heart. The news had shattered her world, yet the small council chamber buzzed with discussions of Aegon’s ascension to the throne, a celebration that felt grotesque in the shadow of her loss.

“How can they be so indifferent?” she whispered to herself, tears stinging her eyes.

Just then, her brother Aemond entered, concern etched on his face.

“Y/n,” he said softly, “I know it’s hard, but we must think of the future. Aegon’s reign will secure our family.”

His words offered little comfort, and as the night deepened, she felt an overwhelming urge to escape the suffocating reality. With a heavy heart, she ran to the dragon pit where her dragon, a magnificent creature named Valyra, awaited her.

"We must leave this place," she whispered, her voice trembling with urgency.

"We will not be a pawn in their game," she murmured to herself Valyra responded with a low growl, sensing her distress.

Together, they soared into the night sky, the wind whipping through her hair as they flew towards the North, far from the treachery of King's Landing. Leaving behind the kingdom that had turned its back on her grief, seeking solace in the farthest reaches of the North.

The biting cold of the North wrapped around the Princess as she descended from her dragon, her Valyrian features hidden beneath a shawl that shielded her from the chill. The forest loomed ahead, a maze of trees and shadows, and she ventured forth in search of sticks to kindle a fire. As she gathered her meager supplies, she was startled by the sound of hooves approaching. Cregan Stark, riding alongside his young son Rickon, noticed her instantly, his keen eyes recognizing the beauty that marked her as different.

“You there,” he called, his voice formal yet curious. “What brings you to these woods?” Y/n hesitated, her heart racing. “I am but an orphan, sir, with no family to claim,” she replied, her words flowing with a refinement that caught his attention. Cregan's expression softened, sensing her vulnerability. “You are welcome to stay at my castle. I could use an extra pair of hands You can help in the kitchens," he replied, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to her than met the eye.

On her first day, Y/n quickly discovered that her skills as a princess did not translate well to servant duties. As she fumbled with pots and pans, Cregan watched with a mix of amusement and concern. "You’re not very good at this, are you?" he teased, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I’m afraid not," she admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "But I can help in other ways. I can read and write, and I know much about dragons. If you please my lord I would be of more use to sweep or clean"

A week had passed since y/n had started her new life at Cregan’s castle, and despite her lack of skill, her grace and kindness shone through. Now away from her kitchen duties she swept the floors, the maester conducted lessons for young Rickon. “Dragons are fearsome beasts that only obey the strongest,” he droned, but y/n’s brow furrowed. “Actually, Balerion the Black Dread was known for his loyalty to Aegon, and his strength was matched only by his wisdom,” she interjected, her voice steady and confident. Cregan, who had been observing from a distance, raised an eyebrow at her unexpected knowledge. The maester faltered, and Rickon’s eyes widened in fascination as y/n continued, recounting tales of Aegon and his sister wives. Cregan’s suspicion deepened; this orphan was unlike any he had encountered before in both her unique features and her graceful manner.

As days turned into weeks, Cregan grew fond of her. y/n’s kindness and intelligence shone through her humble facade, and she quickly formed a bond with Rickon. "Teach me how to read!" Rickon pleaded one afternoon, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Y/n grinned, pulling out a piece of parchment. "How about we play hangman? It’ll be fun!"

Rickon laughed, and soon they were engrossed in the game, Y/n’s laughter ringing through the halls of Winterfell. Cregan watched from a distance, his heart heavy with conflicting emotions. "She’s just a servant," he reminded himself, but the way Rickon looked at her made it hard to deny the bond they shared.

At night, y/n would sneak away to care for Valyra, hiding the dragon in a secluded glen. The creature’s presence was a constant reminder of her true identity, and she felt the weight of her secret pressing down on her. She would often sit beside Valyra, whispering her fears and dreams. "I can’t go back to that life," she confessed one evening. "But I can’t let them find you, either."

Cregan sat in his study the next night while y/n dusted the frames around the room, the fire crackled softly beside him, but his mind was elsewhere. Thoughts of the new maid, y/n, danced through his head, her laughter echoing in his ears. He tried to focus on the parchment before him, but the words blurred together. He couldn’t focus on anything but her infront of him. Just as he began to open his mouth to speak to her, the maester entered, interrupting.

“My lord, a raven has arrived from King’s Landing,” he announced, handing over the message. Cregan quickly scanned the letter, his heart sinking at the news. “To whom it may concern,” it began, “I write to inform you that my dear sister is missing. A reward will be granted to anyone who can find her.” Cregan organised a group to search the surrounding land with him so he could send a raven back. As he searched the land, Cregan couldn’t shake the feeling that y/n was more than just a servant.

The next day, Cregan prepared for a ride with Rickon, but the young boy had other plans. “Can the new maid come with us?” he pleaded, his eyes wide with hope. “I don’t want to go if she isn’t there!” Cregan chuckled at Rickon’s stubbornness, realizing how much the boy had taken to her. “Very well, I’ll fetch her,” he replied, heading off to find y/n. When he located her, he said, “Rickon insists you join us for a ride. He’s rather fond of you.” y/n smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I wouldn’t want to be a bother,” she teased. “But if it means keeping Rickon happy, I suppose I could manage.” As they walked back together, Cregan found himself drawn to her humor and wit, his heart warming with every shared glance.

The three of them rode through the woods, Rickon demanded he share a saddle with y/n , his hands latched upon hers which were holding the reins with excitement. He was as attached to her as a newborn to its mothers chest. Cregan observed the bond between them, a mix of amusement and fondness swelling within him. Suddenly, a deep rumble echoed through the trees, reminiscent of a dragon’s call. “Wait here I should see what’s happening,” Cregan suggested, but as he turned, y/n panicked, she had to distract him, she quickly banged her elbow against a sharp rock and let out a sigh of pain “Are you alright?” he asked, rushing to her side. She winced, revealing a small cut on her arm, but instead of concern, a playful glint appeared in her eyes. “Just a scratch, m’lord but maybe we should return to winterfell,” she replied, attempting to take his attention away for her dragon. As he took her hand to inspect the wound, a strand of silver hair slipped from her shawl. He instinctively tucked it behind her ear, feeling a warmth spread through him. “You should be more careful,” he murmured, but she playfully responded, “No, m’lord, it’s cold is all.” The tension in the air shifted, leaving both of them acutely aware of the closeness between them.

Later that night, y/n slipped out of the castle, drawn to her dragon, the cool night air invigorating her spirit. As she approached the creature, she felt a sense of belonging in the North, the stars twinkling above her like a promise of adventure. Meanwhile, Cregan found himself restless in his room, thoughts of y/n occupying his mind. He decided to check on Rickon, only to find the boy wide awake. “Can’t sleep?” Cregan asked softly. “I miss the stories,” Rickon admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. Rickon is a young boy but winter is coming, Cregan stopped being soft on him and is starting to treat him like a young man but it pains him to remember he is a young boy without a mothers love. An idea sparked in Cregan’s mind. “What if I asked the maid to read you a story?” he suggested, a smile creeping onto his face at the thought of seeing her again. Rickon’s eyes lit up with excitement, and Cregan felt a rush of affection for both the boy and the maid who had unexpectedly captured his heart.

Gathering his courage, he decided to seek her out. He knocked on her door, heart pounding, but when no answer came, he hesitated before stepping inside. The room was empty, yet it was cluttered with books—an unusual sight for a servant. "Where could she be?" he murmured to himself, curiosity piqued.

As he asked the guards, one replied, "She went outside for fresh air, my lord. Said she needed it." Cregan frowned, mounting his horse and riding into the forest. It’s too dangerous for a woman to be out at this hour with deserters and wildlings for the wall being so close. After riding for some time, he spotted her silhouette against the moonlight walking in his direction. “y/n” he called out, his heart racing.

She turned, surprise lighting up her face. "Cregan, What are you doing out here?"

"I was worried about you. Do you want a ride back to Winterfell?" he offered, extending his hand.

Her eyes sparkled as she smiled. "I’d love that. It’s much too quiet out here alone."

Cregan helped boost her up onto his horse and then climbed on behind her. As they rode through the moonlit forest, y/n felt the warmth of Cregan's body pressed against her back, a mix of comfort and tension swirling between them. Their hands brushed against each other as they both held the reins, each accidental touch sending a shiver down her spine. “Tell me, how did you come to be an orphan " Cregan began.

The princess remained quiet, the thought of her father brought tears to her eyes.

“You know," Cregan continued , his voice low and contemplative, "losing my father was... it felt like losing a part of myself. I still hear his voice sometimes, guiding me."

Y/n nodded, her heart aching for him. "I understand more than you know," she replied softly, her breath hitching slightly. "I lost my parents too... though it feels like ages ago. Sometimes, I wonder if they would be proud of me."

"You possess a strength that is admirable,y/n," Cregan said, turning his head slightly to catch her gaze. "I assure you, you could never bring disappointment upon anyone." 

She felt a warmth spread through her at his words, their bodies shifting slightly as the horse moved. "And you, my lord, exhibit that same strength. It is evident in the way you carry yourself, even in the face of adversity."

“I often think to myself after spending time near you that you speak with grace, you don’t have the voice of a maid” Cregan said, although it was a statement it had a hint of curiosity in it.

“Thank you my Lord, It is a great deal to be given praise by a man of your station.” she replied.

As they approached Winterfell, the castle loomed ahead, and the air grew heavier with unspoken feelings. He helped her down from the horse, then he accompanied back to her room and as they stood at her door, the tension was palpable. "This is it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her heart racing as she stood just inside the threshold.

Cregan lingered on the other side, his gaze intense. "y/n, I—" he started, but the words caught in his throat. He took a step back, the distance between them feeling like a chasm. "Goodnight, my lady," he said formally, the weight of his emotions pressing on him. As he turned to walk away he muttered under his breath "I must not allow myself to fall for a servant."

Y/n felt a pang in her chest as she watched him turn away, the warmth of their shared moment lingering in the air, leaving her yearning for more.

That morning Cregan went about his morning duties but hadn’t seen y/n, he felt he had to check on her or Rickon would soon have a fit. The morning sun filtered softly through the curtains as Cregan entered y/n’s room, hoping to catch her before she began her day. He was greeted by a sight that took him aback—her silvery hair cascading over the pillow, a stark contrast to the humble surroundings of her chamber. Realizing he had stumbled upon something more than a mere maid, he quietly retreated, a smirk playing on his lips at the irony of it all.He quietly stepped out of her room and left the princess to sleep. Throughout the day, he enjoyed watched her flit about, serving others with grace, and found it amusing that the princess of the Seven Kingdoms was masquerading as a servant.

Later that afternoon, as they found a moment alone in the quiet of the castle library, Cregan leaned against the shelves, arms crossed with a teasing grin. "You know, the whole realm is in chaos with questions about the whereabouts of their beloved princess," he began, watching her face pale slightly. "But what I'm truly curious about is how you've managed to keep your dragon hidden in the North without anyone catching on." y/n’s eyes widened, a mix of surprise and mischief dancing within them. "You think I have a dragon?" she replied, trying to suppress a laugh and keep her identity hidden.

"Well, it would explain your affinity for the wilds and the late night walks in the forest," Cregan shot back, his tone light yet serious. "I mean, the princess of the Seven Kingdoms tending to a dragon in secret? Now that’s a tale worth telling."Y/n burst into laughter, the tension dissipating as she realized he was not angry but rather intrigued. "You’ve manage to see past my facade Lord Stark.," she admitted, her expression shifting to one of playful defiance. "But if I tell you, you must promise to keep it a secret." The air between them crackled with the thrill of their shared secret, the weight of royal duty momentarily forgotten in the warmth of their connection.

As the afternoon light dimmed, casting long shadows across the library, y/n felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She turned to Cregan, her expression shifting from playful to serious. "I left the capital because... my father died," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't bear to stay there, surrounded by reminders of him. The court was suffocating, and I needed to breathe, to find myself away from all the expectations of marriage alliances but it seems the very thing i feared is what i long for now"

Cregan's heart ached at her words, and he hesitated before responding. "I was worried about you, you know. When I saw you in the kitchens, I thought... falling for a servant would be foolish. A woman I could never truly be with," he admitted, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "But now, knowing it’s you, the princess I thought was lost, I can’t help but feel relieved."

y/n caught the hint of vulnerability in his voice and decided to tease him. "Oh, Lord Stark, Was it my foolishness in the kitchens or my terrible dusting skills that won your heart?" she quipped, a playful smile breaking across her face.

Cregan chuckled, the tension easing between them. "Definitely the dusting." They shared a laugh, the air thick with flirtation.

As their laughter faded, y/n stepped closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know, I could teach you a thing or two Lord Stark, if you promise to keep my secrets," she said softly, her voice low and inviting.

Cregan took a step forward, his heart racing. "I might just take you up on that offer," he murmured, his gaze locked onto hers. The moment hung between them, electric and charged with unspoken feelings.

Without thinking, y/n leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a gentle yet fervent kiss. It was a kiss filled with the weight of their shared burdens, the joy of newfound connection, and the promise of something deeper. As they pulled away, breathless and smiling, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them and the secrets they now shared.

[targtowerxstark]

Hello again!! I have this pretty specific idea in mind, but I’d really like you to write it, because you’re my favorite hotd and Cregan creator (but if you don’t want to then that’s fine❤️)

So Targ!reader wants none with the war, takes her dragon, and flies off Winterfell. There she disguises herself somehow (you can decide if she’s from team Green or Black, but I feel like it would be appropriate for reader to have that Vissera Targaryen/Sheira Seastar indescribable-Targaryen beauty)

Cregan stumbles upon her, and she lies and says she’s an orphaned woman who has nothing, and to let her work as a servant. He agrees and she starts working as a servant. She might not be very good at it, since she’s a princess. But she’s kind, very smart (a bit too smart for a peasant. She can read, knows more about dragons than the maesters, and knows Valyrian)

She hides her dragon and cares for it from a distance, creating strange disappearances, sneaking off at night. But Cregan starts falling for her, she has a kind and just heart, a hardworking spirit, an incredible mind and is very beautiful. But he’s Lord of Winterfell! He can’t fall in love with his servant!

Rickon loves her and starts treating her like his mother. How can he not? She’s so sweet and kind, and teaches him how to read and spell in fun ways, like hangman. This doesn’t help Cregan’s denial of his feelings. And besides, the realm has erupted into chaos, the princess is missing!

Very specific ask I know! 😭but honestly have as much fun with this as you want. I love when authors have fun with their work, so use this ask as play-dough! Have as much creative liberty as you want with this, I’ll love anything you write, have fun ❤️❤️

I love this!!! I will be posting my Fanfic for it within the next 20 minutes, keep an eye out!!!🫶🏼

[targtowerxstark]

A Northern promise

Cregan Stark X Targtower Reader

Requested by Anon💌. Thank you so much for the requests. Requests are open!!

summary: The princess has to travel north to propose a marriage pact but finds Cregan is away at war. At castle black Cregan and his men are fighting hard to slay the wildings but all hope seems lost, until they hear a dauntingly loud roar in the distance….

In the dimly lit council chambers, the air was thick with tension as the princess sat among her family, and other members of the kings council, their expressions grave and determined. They discussed strategies to bolster their support for the impending war, voices rising and falling as ideas were exchanged.

Finally, an idea was settled upon: sending the princess to the North to engage Lord Stark in political discourse. The notion of a marriage pact was floated, a potential alliance that could strengthen their position and secure vital support against their enemies.

"We need to secure Lord Stark's support," her mother declared, her voice steady but laced with tension. "A marriage pact could solidify our alliance."

As she listened, the weight of the responsibility settled on her shoulders, knowing that her journey could alter the course of their fate.

The princess felt a flutter of apprehension in her stomach. The idea of marrying a man she barely knew was daunting, yet she understood the gravity of their situation.

"Mother, do you truly believe this is the best course of action?" she asked, trying to mask the uncertainty in her voice.

Her mother nodded, her expression resolute. "It’s not just about you, my dear. It’s about the future of our house. The North is strong, and their loyalty could turn the tide in our favor."

Her brother Aemond chimed in

“Although i long for you to stay in the capital sweet sister, mother is right. The Norths population is almost as big as the other six kingdoms put together, it is powerful and we need to secure an alliance with them, although mother i do think it is unbefitting of a Targaryen princess to be marrying some dog rather than someone who shares her blood, like myself.

Your mother quickly replied. “Aemond you mustn’t degrade the lords of the kingdoms like such, and as for marriages we shall need you to secure alliances to further strengthen your brothers claim to the throne, I will hear no more of the matter.”

As the council debated the logistics, y/n’s mind raced. Could she charm Lord Stark and persuade him to join their cause? What would it mean to leave her home and step into a world so different from her own? She took a deep breath, knowing that her duty was clear and she has no choice.

"If it is for the good of our house, I will go," she finally said, her voice firm despite the uncertainty swirling within her. The decision was made, and she felt the weight of her family's hopes resting on her shoulders.

As the princess made her way to the dragon pit, the cool evening air wrapped around her, a stark contrast to the warmth of the council chambers. With each step, she could feel the weight of her choice pressing down on her, but the thought of soaring through the skies on her dragon filled her with a sense of purpose. The massive stone structure loomed ahead, its entrance adorned with intricate carvings of dragons, a reminder of her family's legacy. Upon entering, the familiar scent of warm stone and the faint sound of her dragon’s low rumble greeted her. She approached her dragon, a magnificent creature with shimmering emerald scales that glinted in the dim light. Climbing onto its back, she felt a rush of exhilaration as the dragon unfurled its wings, stretching them wide. With a powerful leap, they took to the skies, the ground falling away beneath them.

As they flew northward, the wind whipped through her hair, and she closed her eyes for a moment, embracing the freedom and the daunting journey ahead, determined to secure the alliance that could change everything. The green fields below her quickly turned white with heavy snows and the sights of animals and children below became scarce as it is only a dead man’s wish to be out in this cold.

As the princess dismounted her dragon, her boots thudded softly against the frost-kissed ground of Winterfell. The castle loomed before her, its ancient stones weathered by time, a stark contrast to the smooth, polished walls of her own home. She took a moment to absorb her surroundings—tall, rugged trees stood sentinel around the fortress, their branches heavy with snow, and the air was crisp, carrying a hint of woodsmoke from the hearths within.

Approaching the gates, she felt a mix of excitement and trepidation. Just then, a maester clad in thick furs stepped forward, his expression solemn.

"My Princess,it is an honour to greet you, I am the maester of Winterfell, what brings you here?" he inquired, his voice deep and cold.

"I must speak with Lord Stark on behalf of my father, the king. I am a royal guest why has Lord Stark not received me himself"

she replied trying to hide that she felt insulted. A person of her status should be received by the Lord of the castle not an old man.

The master shook his head, his brow furrowing.

"I am sorry princess, I’m afraid he is away at the Wall, fighting against the wildlings. They’ve breached the defenses and are through castle black. The battle will be a long one and i don’t believe Lord Stark will return with even half the men he travelled there with, Winter is coming Princess and it will be as cold and fierce as ever."

A chill ran down her spine at the thought of such danger. As she glanced around, she noticed the northern people bustling about, their faces hardened by the cold and their expressions serious. They moved with a sense of purpose, their attire practical and sturdy, unlike the more ornate garments of the south. She couldn’t help but admire their resilience; they seemed shaped by the harshness of their land, and she felt a pang of respect for their strength.

As she stood at the gates of Winterfell, she realized that while the north was daunting, it also held a raw beauty and a fierce spirit that was unlike anything she had known back home but this will soon be her home should everything go in her favour. The challenges ahead would be great, but perhaps, just perhaps, she could learn from these people and their unwavering resolve.

“Castle Black you say?” she replied

“yes princess, I do believe you will be waiting a moon or so before our Lord returns, I shall have the guest quarters prepared immediately.” he explained

A mischievous look came over her face. Y/n is an impatient woman, she grew up in the red keep you would expect as much from a Targaryen princess. She wanted to talk with Cregan Stark and she wanted to do it now. “Your Lord will be back to you sooner than you think, I shall not be staying I am needed North of here but thank you for your kindness.”

And with that the princess retuned to her dragon and mounted it, taking off into the skies. If she wanted a Northern Man she would have to show she is for the North and will do anything to protect it. If one thing was known it is that Starks value loyalty and she will prove just how loyal she is willing to be in exchange for what she wants.

As she travelled north of winterfell the air became colder and the sound of clashing steel and the cries of men echoed through the air as she rode closer to the battlefield, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination. The sight that greeted her was one of chaos; men fought valiantly, their faces smeared with dirt and blood, the ground beneath them soaked in the remnants of a desperate struggle. Cregan stood at the forefront, a formidable figure, his dark hair matted with sweat and grime, his expression a mask of fierce resolve, and ice, the ancestral sword was visible even from the skies.

The battle was certainly not going in the Norths favour, for every man of Lord starks there must’ve been 20 wildings y/n thought.

Just as despair began to creep into the hearts of the Northmen, a distant roar broke through the din of battle—a sound unlike any other, powerful and commanding.

"What in the gods' names was that?" one of the lords exclaimed, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Cregan's expression shifted, a spark of hope igniting within him. "It could be our salvation," he murmured, turning to his men. "If it is what I think it is, we may yet turn the tide."

With a shared glance, the men knew the significance of that roar. It was a call to arms, a promise of aid. As the sound grew closer, the ground trembled beneath them, and the enemy faltered, confusion washing over their ranks.

"Get ready!" Cregan commanded, rallying his men. "We fight for our homes! We fight for the North!"

As the roar crescendoed into a thunderous presence, a massive figure emerged from the shadows—an enormous dragon, its scales glimmering like emeralds in the fading light with y/n on its back guiding it through the skies her silver hair shining all the way from the sky. The battlefield fell silent, the sight of the creature and the princess was both awe-inspiring and terrifying.

"By the gods!" one of the lords gasped, his voice barely above a whisper.

Cregan's eyes widened, a grin breaking through his stoic demeanor. "It seems the South has sent a princess to aid us. We shall not fall this day!"

“A Southern princess in the North? The men back home won’t believe this, she won’t know what to do once she sees this battle up close my lord” one of the men began, this caused a domino affect of other men shouting and laughing amongst themselves while continuing to fight.

“I hear they have maids waiting by their side to wipe their arse when they use their chamber pot”

“Stuck up their own arse is all they are, the lot of them”

“Now Lads, One of them very Southerners is here in the North to aid us in this battle before we speak anymore we shall give her a chance to prove herself and show us what southerners are really made of”

the men erupted in laughter as they jested but they could not deny the presence of the princess has provided a new sense of hope when all seemed lost.

With renewed vigor, the Northmen surged forward, bolstered by the arrival of the dragon and the fierce determination of their lord by their side and their princess above them in the sky. Y/n felt the thrill of battle surge through her veins, her heart racing with the realization that this moment would forever change the course of her life—and perhaps the fate of the realm itself.

As the clash of steel echoed across the snowy battlefield, Cregan Stark stood resolute among his men, the air thick with the scent of smoke and the cries of war. Above them, the princess soared on her dragon. With a fierce roar, the dragon arched its neck, and the sky seemed to darken as it unleashed a torrent of fire, a brilliant stream of orange and gold that cascaded down upon the wildlings below. The flames engulfed the enemy, illuminating the stark landscape and sending a wave of heat that contrasted sharply with the biting cold. Cregan watched in awe as the dragon's fire danced through the air, consuming the wildling horde, their battle cries turning to screams as chaos erupted around them. The sight of the dragon, a symbol of power and hope, filled him with renewed strength. He rallied his men, urging them forward, knowing that with the princess and her dragon fighting by their side, victory was within reach. The wildlings faltered, their ranks breaking under the combined might of the Northmen and the dragon's fiery wrath.

Together, they fought, a united front against the chaos, and in that crucible of war, a bond began to form—one forged in the fires of battle and the promise of a shared future.

With the princesses arrival the battle was over quickly. The wildings were slayed and those who survived fled.

As the smoke cleared and the last echoes of battle faded, Cregan Stark stood at the edge of the battlefield, his armor still glinting in the pale sunlight. He felt a mix of exhaustion and elation, but his heart quickened as he spotted the princess dismounting her dragon nearby. Her presence was striking, the way she carried herself with a blend of grace and strength, her hair catching the light like spun gold.

Y/n dismounted her dragon and remained by its side, feeling slightly awkward on the battlefield she felt safe with her dragon. Lord Stark saw her by the beast and contemplated his next move. He owed the lives of his men to the princess and she was owed thanks but to approach her with such a large beast beside her would be a death wish.

Yet Lord Stark understood what was required of a man in his position so he cautiously made his way over to the princess.

"Princess," he said, bowing slightly, his voice steady despite the flutter in his chest. "Your bravery in battle was unmatched. We owe you our victory."

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I must admit, it was thrilling to watch you lead your men. You have the spirit of a true Stark."

Cregan chuckled, feeling the weight of her gaze. "And you, a true dragon rider. I suppose we make quite the team."

"Indeed," she replied, a playful glint in her eye. "Though I think my dragon might have done most of my heavy lifting."

He stepped closer, the air between them charged with unspoken attraction. "Perhaps, but it was your courage that inspired us all. I am grateful for your aid."

The princess tilted her head, her smile softening. "Gratitude is a fine thing, Lord Stark, but it seems we are both bound by duty. A Stark and a princess... such alliances are often in favour of all those involved."

Cregan nodded, understanding the weight of their titles. "True, but perhaps we can find moments of levity amidst our responsibilities Princess."

"Moments of levity?”she teased, her laughter light and infectious. "You mean to say I should bring my dragon to every meeting Lord Stark?"

"Only if you promise to keep it from roasting my bannermen," he replied, his grin widening.

They both spoke in a formal manner as their status required but their age was prevalent as they exchanged playful banter, both felt the undeniable connection, aware of the path their lives were set upon. Yet, in that moment, amidst the remnants of war, they found solace in each other's company, a flicker of hope amidst the expectations of their worlds.

Later on as the sounds of laughter and celebration echoed through the clearing, the atmosphere was alive with the spirit of victory. The men of Winterfell raised their swords, toasting to their triumph on the battlefield. The princess, however, found herself drawn away from the revelry, tending to her dragon. She meticulously cleaned the ash off the creature's scales, her mind wandering as she worked.

Glancing up, she noticed Lord Stark leaning against a nearby tree, his sword glinting in the sunlight as he cleaned it with careful precision. There was an air of calm about him that intrigued her, a stark contrast to the chaos of the festivities. Taking a deep breath, she decided to approach him, her heart racing with anticipation.

“Lord Stark,” she greeted, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest. “May I join you?”

He looked up, his expression shifting from concentration to surprise. “Princess,” he replied, bowing slightly. “Of course, I would be honored.”

As she stepped closer, she felt the weight of the moment. “I wanted to speak with you about something important,” she began, her tone serious yet inviting. “I’ve been sent to the North to propose a marriage pact between us. on behalf of the crown.”

His brow raised slightly, a mixture of curiosity and caution in his gaze. “A marriage pact? That is a significant proposal, my lady. May I ask what your thoughts are on the matter”

“I think it is a clever alliance Lord Stark. It would strengthen my brothers claim to the throne should my father ever change his heir and it would do the North good to have a dragon protecting it”

“I believe you have taken me up wrong princess, forgive me princess but I want to know what you think of the alliance, not what your parents have told you to believe, is this what you want?” Lord Starks heart began to race, he needed to know her thoughts on the matter, it would slightly hurt him to believe she wants no part in the alliance only she is being forced to accept.

She hesitated for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “When I saw you on the battlefield, taking charge and leading your men with such strength, I realized you would make a good husband and an excellent father. You are able to take charge and that’s a good trait in w man. The stories I’ve heard about you are impressive,your swordsmanship and your honour but it was your presence in that moment that truly convinced me.”

He studied her for a moment, the tension between them palpable. “Before I answer your proposal, I would like to know your thoughts when the small council first suggested this idea. Were you in favor of it, or was it merely a duty you felt obliged to consider Princess ?”

Her gaze dropped for a moment as she reflected. “To be honest, I was unsure. The idea of a marriage pact felt like a political maneuver at first. But after seeing you, I realized there is more to you than just a title. You have a heart that leads you, and that is what I want in a partner.”

Lord Stark’s lips curled into a faint smile, a glimmer of warmth in his eyes. “You speak with such conviction. It’s refreshing. I have heard tales of your beauty and kindness, and they don’t do you justice my lady. I would feel honoured to take your hand in marriage and it seems we both are in favour of this alliance.”

“Indeed,” she replied, her heart swelling with hope. “I believe we could forge a future together, one built on mutual respect and understanding.”

After a moment of contemplation, he finally spoke. “Then I will accept your proposal. Who would I be to deny such an offer? I am but a lord, and you are a princess. I should be the one impressing you, not the other way around.”

She chuckled softly, the playful banter easing the formality of their conversation. “You underestimate the power of kindness, Lord Stark. Perhaps you should consider a more personal approach to impress me.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what might that be?”

She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Perhaps a kind act, something that shows your character beyond the battlefield.”

He nodded, a spark of mischief in his eyes. “Very well. I will think of a worthy act to prove my intentions. But until then, I ask that you forget about the pact, just for a moment. Allow me the chance to show you who I am beyond titles and expectations.”

“Agreed,” she replied, a smile breaking across her face. “But I will hold you to that promise, Lord Stark.”

As they exchanged playful glances, he took a step back, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “I shall begin my quest for your favor by ensuring the next feast is one to remember. I will have the finest meats and wines brought forth, and I will personally ensure that every guest is entertained.”

“Now that is a noble endeavor,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with delight. “But it will take more than a feast to win my heart.”

“Challenge accepted,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “I will find a way to impress you, Princess. Just you wait.”

As they continued to banter, the warmth of their connection grew, the initial formality giving way to a budding friendship.

Later on as the princess was admiring castle black she found Lord Stark stood in her view, he had a bouquet of wild northern flowers cradled gently in his hands, he felt the weight of the moment. The vibrant colors of the blooms contrasted sharply with the darkening sky, a reminder of the beauty that could exist even in the harshest of landscapes. He took a deep breath, steadying himself as he approached the princess.

“Princess,” he began, his voice steady yet filled with emotion. She turned to him, her eyes wide with curiosity. “I have collected these for you.” He extended the bouquet, the delicate petals brushing against her fingers as she accepted it.

“They are beautiful,” she said, a hint of surprise in her voice. “But what is this for, my lord?” she said with a slight smirk on her face knowing what was coming next.

With a mixture of determination and vulnerability, Lord Stark stepped closer, the air between them charged with unspoken feelings. “I wish to ask you something of great importance,” he said, his heart pounding in his chest. “Will you marry me?”

The princess blinked, her expression shifting from surprise to contemplation. The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, the world around them faded away

As the words lingered between them, the princess's breath caught in her throat. She looked deeply into Lord Stark's eyes, searching for sincerity, for the truth behind his bold proposal. The tension in the air was palpable, a mix of hope and uncertainty.

In that moment, the world around them seemed to fade into a gentle silence, the rustling leaves and distant sounds of the castle becoming mere whispers. Lord Stark took a cautious step closer, drawn by an invisible force. His heart raced as he reached up, brushing a stray hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. She stared back at him, noticing the small stains of blood he had on his face and then those eyes, those deep grey eyes, she couldn’t look away. She was captivated by him.

“y/n,” he whispered, using her name for the first time, a name that felt like a promise.

“Cregan”

With a soft smile, she leaned in, closing the distance between them. The warmth of her presence enveloped him, and in that instant, he knew he could not wait any longer. He leaned down, capturing her lips with his in a tender kiss, a sweet mingling of hope and longing.

Time stood still as they shared that moment, the wildflowers forgotten in the background, blooming in harmony with the blossoming feelings between them. It was a kiss that spoke of new beginnings, of promises yet to be fulfilled, and the unbreakable bond that was forming in the heart of the North.

[targtowerxstark]

Helloooo!! Are you still taking requests? Cuz I kind of have a specific idea

yesss i am💗

[targtowerxstark]

Exploring Lord Stark-Part two

Part two (can be read as a stand alone)

plot: y/n targaryen becomes bored of everyday castle life and reads about the North. She goes on a journey to explore the North but the first thing to catch her eye is Cregan Stark

The sun hung low beneath the clouds in the sky, casting a soft golden hue over the Godswood as Lord Cregan Stark and Princess y/n Targaryen settled on a moss-covered stone. The air was cool, filled with the scent of damp earth and the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers. y/n, with her playful spirit, leaned back against the stone, her silver hair glinting like spun moonlight.

“Cregan, tell me again about the direwolves,Are they really as big as you say or do you lie to humour me ?” she teased, her violet eyes sparkling with mischief.

Cregan, ever the formal lord, straightened his posture, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “They are,Your Grace. It is said that a direwolf pup could bite a man’s arm clean off.” Yet, as he spoke, he felt the rigid formality of his demeanor begin to fade in her presence.

y/n giggled, her laughter echoing through the trees. “I bet they are as sweet as a newborn babe, I’d love to see one up close.” She leaned forward, her excitement palpable, and Cregan found her enthusiasm refreshing. It was the same old North to him, but through her eyes, it felt alive and vibrant. “Seeing as you wield a dragon as a pet princess, i doubt you’d find them too vicious, should you plan to travel to the wall you will cross paths with one” he said with amusement in his voice. Cregan found his thoughts were drifting, this conversation was unlike his usual day to day ones he found himself enjoying the light and unserious side she brought out of him. He hadn’t felt like this with the noble ladies he had conversed with before but, he could get use to it.

“come with me” y/n said, eagerly awaiting a reply.

“Forgive me princess, what are you asking” he replied

“Travel with me to the wall, As the princess of the seven kingdoms I shall relieve you of your noble duties and ask you to be my guide to the North. Should you be hesitant I shall throw myself on my knees infront of you and beg Lord Cregan, I’ll only take no for a challenge” she laughed.

“Well if they’re my options princess, I shall be hesitant and then get the honour of both hearing a princess beg and serve as a guide for her too” Cregan would never try be as bold as to pass a comment like this but being around her brings out a different side of him.

The Princess could only blush in reply. Lord Stark seems so old in comparison to what he really is. Only one and twenty and yet you’d think he’s ruled for a lifetime, forgetting he is only a young lad. “Thank you Lord Stark”.

“Cregan” he whispered back

“Thank you Cregan” she said with a smile.

The Godswood was a sanctuary of ancient trees, their twisted branches reaching toward the sky like gnarled hands. The heart tree stood proudly at its center, its red leaves whispering secrets to the wind. Cregan glanced at y/n, her expression filled with wonder as she took in the beauty around them.

“Isn’t it magnificent?” he asked, his voice softer.

“It’s enchanting, I thought the red keeps garden was wonderful but this is something else” she replied, her gaze locking onto his. In that moment, the world around them faded, and all that mattered was the connection forming between them. Her playful nature drew him in, and he found himself leaning closer, the distance between them shrinking.

“Would you like to see something truly special?” Cregan asked, a spark of determination igniting within him. He rose and gestured for her to follow him to the ancestral hall, where the legendary sword, Ice, rested.

As they entered, y/n’s eyes widened in awe at the sight of the massive blade, its double-edged steel glinting ominously in the dim light. “That’s Ice?” she breathed, stepping closer, her fingers itching to reach out.

Cregan nodded, pride swelling in his chest. “Yes, it belonged to my father, and before him, to our ancestors. It was forged from the finest Valyrian steel.” He carefully lifted the sword, its weight familiar and comforting in his hands. “I won Winterfell from my uncle in a war, and this was my true prize. It symbolizes our house’s strength and honor and it means a lot to know my father once yielded it.”

Y/n felt all of Cregains pain, the faint smile as he spoke about his father made her heart hurt for him. “I’m very sorry for your loss, He’d be truly proud to see what you’ve done since he passed. Him and your brother”

“Why thank you Princess, to receive praise from a member of the royal family means a great deal” Cregan face was stern and his voice steady.

Y/n’s face was stern too but it quickly started to wrinkle and a smile formed on her face. “We both know you Northerns think the southerners are drunk, lazy fools who wouldn’t survive down here, but thank you for your kindness” Lord Stark she chuckled.

“Well that may be true princess” he laughed in return. But you are not of the South, You are of Valyria, and praise from a brave dragon rider like yourself truly does mean a lot.”

As they laughed, he noticed y/n leaning closer, her breath catching in her throat. The way she looked at him, filled with awe and respect, made his heart race. He couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps, in this moment, they were forging something new together—something that could withstand even the harshest winters.

“Cregan,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, “May you show me to the crypts?”

He felt a warmth spread through him, it is obvious the princess wants him specifically to guide her, she could’ve chose anyone or nobody at all but she chose him, and for the first time, he allowed himself to believe that perhaps he could be more than just a Stark—he could be someone worthy of the Targaryen princess beside him.

And off they went to the crypts…..

[targtowerxstark]

The Festival of the First Snow.

Cregan Stark X Targaryen reader

•Cregan and his wife prepare for the Festival of the first snow. During the festival the sneak off to the Gods wood.

•Wife is referred to as y/n. Small description of her. Targaryen features.One mention of being petite.

♡

Cregan Stark leaned back in his chair, the crackling fire in his study casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. The scent of burning wood mingled with the faint aroma of parchment and ink, creating a comforting atmosphere as he reviewed the plans for the upcoming Winter Festivals. The Festival of the First snow was to take place in a matter of days, marking the onset of winter. His brow furrowed in concentration, but a soft laugh broke his focus.

“Cregan, you look as if you’re preparing for a battle rather than a celebration,” y/n , his wife, teased, her voice light and melodic. She stood by the window, her silver hair catching the firelight, framing her face like a halo.

Cregan smiled, his heart warming at the sight of her. “Perhaps I am. The Northmen can be a rowdy lot after too much drink. I must ensure we have enough mead to keep them merry and not too rowdy.”

She turned to him, her violet eyes sparkling with mischief. “And what of the women? They deserve to be entertained as well. We should plan games for the children and stories for the ladies. Perhaps a dance beneath the stars?”

“Dance?” Cregan echoed, his voice low and teasing. “You know I have two left feet, y/n”. I’d sooner wrestle a direwolf than dance.”

She laughed, the sound brightening the room. “Then I shall teach you, my wolf. We will make it a night to remember.”

As they discussed their plans, y/n moved closer, her presence filling the space with warmth. They spoke of the traditions of the festival’s—the feasting, the storytelling, the games, and the honoring of the Old Gods. Each idea sparked excitement between them, weaving their hearts closer like the intricate patterns of the tapestries that adorned Winterfell’s walls.

The next night, the great hall of Winterfell was adorned with evergreens and flickering candles, casting a warm glow over the long wooden tables. The scent of roasted meats and spiced wine filled the air, and laughter echoed as the Northmen gathered, their spirits high. Cregan, ever the young wolf, sat among the men, sharing tales of bravery and adventure, his voice strong and commanding.

y/n, sat across the hall with the women, radiating beauty in a deep sapphire gown that hugged her figure perfectly, the fabric shimmering like the stars. Cregan’s breath caught as he caught sight of her, his heart racing like the thundering hooves of a charging wolf. Their eyes met across the hall, and in that moment, the noise of the festival faded into the background.

He admired the way her laughter danced in the air, how her eyes sparkled with mischief, and how she moved with grace. Cregan felt a warmth spread through him, a primal need to be near her, to claim her as his own. The way she tilted her head and smiled made him forget the stories he was telling, and he found himself lost in thoughts of her.

As the night wore on, a group of men began to share a particularly wild story of a hunt gone wrong, their voices rising in excitement. “And there we were, facing down a bear as big as a horse!” one man boasted, his arms gesturing wildly. The hall erupted in laughter, but Cregan’s attention was divided. He caught his wife’s gaze again, and she raised her cup, a playful smile on her lips.

Time slipped away, and many looks were passed between the pair, and soon the feast began to wind down. y/n stood to leave, her dress flowing behind her like a whisper of the wind. As she walked towards the doors, she glanced back, locking eyes with Cregan once more. He couldn’t help but notice the way her hips swayed and her dress hugged her waist enhancing her figure. He needed her. He felt like a wolf during a full moon, drawn to her, filled with a longing that was both fierce and gentle. He wasn’t used to these feelings that consumed him whenever she was near but he knew it was love.

As soon as she exited the hall, Cregan rose, his instincts guiding him. He followed her out, careful to avoid the prying eyes of the other guests. He saw her slip into the Godswood, the ancient trees standing sentinel around her.

Cregan stealthily moved through the dense underbrush of the God’s Woods, the moonlight filtering through the branches above, casting a silver glow that danced across the forest floor. His heart raced, not from the thrill of the chase but from the intoxicating presence of her. She moved like a whisper among the trees, a vision that stirred something primal within him. He craved her like a wolf starved, every instinct urging him to close the distance between them.

As she reached a clearing, y/n settled onto a wooden stump by the water's edge, her silhouette framed by the shimmering reflections of the moon. Cregan paused, taking in the sight of her—such a petite, perfect thing, yet she had such power over him. He stepped forward, a playful smirk crossing his lips. "You know, it’s dangerous to wander these woods alone. What if a hungry wolf were to come along?"

She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, I’d just have to show that wolf who’s really in charge, wouldn’t I?" Her playful tone sent a shiver down his spine, igniting a fire of desire within him. Cregan couldn't help but chuckle, his cockiness shining through. "I’d like to see you try. But I must warn you, I don’t play fair."

The chase was on. She stood up, a teasing smile on her lips as she darted away, her laughter echoing through the trees. Cregan was quick to follow, weaving through the trunks, his heart pounding not just from exertion but from the thrill of the pursuit. He relished the game, the way her energy electrified the air around them. "Catch me if you can!" she called out, glancing back at him with a playful challenge.

With each step, he felt the desperation growing within him—he needed to catch her, to claim this moment. Finally, he lunged forward, wrapping his arms around her waist just as she reached another clearing. She squealed in surprise, and he spun her around, their faces inches apart. "Got you," he breathed, his voice low and teasing.

y/n’s eyes sparkled with a mix of challenge and delight. "You think you’ve won, don’t you? But this isn’t over yet." She leaned closer, her breath warm against his skin, and for a moment, time stood still. Cregan's heart raced, the playful banter giving way to something deeper, more desperate. "Oh, I’m counting on it," he replied, his voice thick with longing, as he leaned in, ready to savor the taste of victory.

With a soft smile, she leaned in, and their lips met in a slow yet passionate kiss that quickly ignited into something more fervent. Cregan's hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as their kiss deepened, filled with desperation and longing. Her hands were wrapped up in his hair pulling slightly. He lifted her up in one swift movement and she wrapped her legs around him. He pushed her up against the Weirwood tree so that the Gods could witness the love he would make to his wife. The world around them faded away, leaving only the sound of rustling leaves and their hearts beating in unison. In that sacred space, they were lost in each other, wrapped up in the intoxicating warmth of their love….

[targtowerxstark]

Exploring Lord Stark

Targaryen reader x Cregan Stark

reader is a targtower but could be team black either as the other targtower are only mentioned once in passing. Minor description of character (hair colour/length,gender) .

plot: y/n targaryen becomes bored of everyday castle life and reads about the North. She goes on a journey to explore the North but the first thing to catch her eye is Cregan Stark

One night, in the heart of the capital, y/n found herself living the same day everyday. The same servants scuttled about her chambers each morning, their faces a blur of familiarity, while the same guards stood in the halls night after night and it was the same boring ladies gossiping at court. That night, fueled by a restless spirit, she slipped from her chambers and ventured into the shadowy depths of the castle library. The air was thick with the scent of aged parchment as she discovered a tome titled "The secrets of the seven kingdoms." Her fingers danced over the pages until she stumbled upon a chapter that spoke of the Seven Wonders, her imagination igniting at the mention of the Wall. As she read on about Winterfell, she was captivated by its majestic beauty, the towering walls and the snow-capped peaks surrounding it. She was intrigued by the 3 acre wide gods wood and the mysterious never ending crypts. She knew she wanted to explore these beauty’s. she caught a glimpse of a passage about the young lord, Cregan Stark, and a mischievous thought crossed her mind: perhaps she wouldn’t mind exploring him too.

The next morning, y/n sat at the grand breakfast table, the sun filtering through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the polished wood. Her family surrounded her—Aegon, brooding as always, Aemond, with his charming yet careless demeanor, and sweet Helaena, who spoke in soft whispers. Their mother, Alicent, was engaged in a monotonous conversation about court affairs, while King Viserys, bedridden and frail, was absent from the dull gathering.

“Must we always discuss the same tiresome matters?” y/n sighed, pushing her plate away. “I long for something more than this endless chatter.”

“If the important matters of court don’t appeal to you y/n, you are free to sulk elsewhere” said Alicent.

The words hung in the air like a challenge, igniting a spark within her. With a sudden resolve, she decided to take her dragon for a ride, longing to escape the confines of the castle.As she made her way to the dragon pit, the corridors felt almost alive, echoing with the whispers of history. The scent of damp earth and burning torches filled her nostrils as she descended the stone steps, her heart racing with anticipation. Finally, she reached the pit, where her dragon awaited her. "Valyra," she whispered, stroking the shimmering scales of her dragon, a creature of fire and grace, her wings a tapestry of deep crimson and gold. With a powerful leap, they took to the sky, the wind whipping through y/n's hair as she soared above the sprawling kingdom. Beneath her, the landscape unfolded like a vivid painting—rolling hills, shimmering rivers, and the distant mountains beckoning her. The thrill of freedom surged through her veins as she urged Valyra onward, feeling an inexplicable pull toward the North. “Let’s keep going, Valyra,” she called out, her heart yearning for the unknown, for the promise of adventure that lay just beyond the horizon.

As y/n and Valyra soared higher into the crisp air, she could feel the warmth of the capital fading away. The lush greens of the fields below began to give way to a blanket of white, the ground transforming into a glistening expanse of snow. The air grew colder, biting at her cheeks and filling her lungs with a refreshing chill. As they flew over the rugged terrain, she heard distant shouts rising from below, the voices echoing against the mountains. "A dragon! A dragon!" The excitement and fear in their tones made her heart race. She realized that for many of the Northerners, this was the first time they were witnessing a dragon in the flesh, a creature of legend.

And then, there it was—Winterfell. The castle rose majestically from the snow-covered landscape, its ancient stone walls standing strong against the elements. Tall towers reached toward the sky, their battlements adorned with banners that fluttered in the icy wind. The imposing structure was surrounded by a vast expanse of white, the icy moat reflecting the pale winter sun. As she descended, y/n felt a sense of awe wash over her; Winterfell was a place steeped in history and tradition.

With a graceful landing, Valyra settled onto the snowy ground nearby, her massive wings folding against her body. Y/n dismounted, her boots crunching softly in the snow as she approached the castle. A group of men stood outside, their faces etched with surprise and reverence. As they recognized her, they knelt, their heads bowed. “Princess,” one of them spoke, his voice respectful yet tinged with curiosity. “Lord Stark wasn’t aware you would be coming. He is in a meeting but will be out soon to greet you.” They gestured for her to follow them to the guest rooms, where she could freshen up after her journey.

As y/n walked through the stone corridors of Winterfell, she was struck by the sense of culture that permeated the air. The warm glow of torches illuminated the walls, and the scent of woodsmoke mingled with the crispness of the cold. The people she passed wore furs and sturdy clothing, their expressions a mix of curiosity and admiration as they caught sight of her. The architecture was sturdy and practical, with thick walls and simple designs, a stark contrast to the delicate beauty of the capital. She could feel the heartbeat of the North in the laughter of children playing in the snow and the distant sounds of a bustling hearth.

Cregan pondered the implications of the news regarding her arrival. He had heard whispers of her beauty, but he knew all too well that such visits rarely heralded good tidings. "Surely, this is no mere social call," he mused, his brow furrowing with concern. "War must be looming on the horizon, or perhaps the crown seeks to impose yet another burden of taxes upon us. A princess does not travel without purpose."

With a heavy heart, he approached the grand door of her room, the air thick with anticipation. He raised his hand and rapped gently upon the wood, each knock echoing the weight of his thoughts. Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing the radiant figure of the Princess.

"Lord Cregan," she greeted him with a measured smile, her voice smooth yet laced with urgency. " good morning my lord, I trust you are well?"

Cregan inclined his head respectfully. "Princess, it is an honor to welcome you to the North, However, I must confess, your presence here stirs a sense of foreboding within me. What brings you to the North ?”

“Be at ease lord Stark” she chuckled “ I bring no talk of politics with me, i simply wanted to explore the beauty of the North and Winterfell caught my eye first. It would please me if i Had your blessing to explore the castle and the Gods wood over the following few days”

Cregan’s shoulders relaxed and the worry building in his chest finally stopped. While the princess spoke he couldn’t help but glance over her figure. Her silver hair hung low, down to her waist, her face was even more beautiful than he had been told, as if sculpted by the gods themselves, and her dress clung to her body in a way he had never seen with other women in the North.

“I am pleased to know that is what brings you here. Winterfell is yours princess. Should you need someone to guide you on your journey, I will always be near by.”

“thank you lord stark” she replied.

“Please princess, Call me Cregan”

“ Thank you very much for extending your kindness to me, I have much to learn about the North. I’ll be calling on you to show me around sooner then you’ll like, Cregan”

He chuckled in response

“Good day princess”

and with that, Lord stark left y/n alone in the guest quarters. y/n was left intrigued by the young lord, he was one of the finest men she had seen in her life and she knew the first thing she wanted to explore was Lord Stark and his world. Yet that would have to wait, the gods wood were calling her……

(interested in a part 2?😏…Interact !!❤️)

[targtowerxstark]

A moment of Serenity - Cregan Stark X wife reader (targ)

•Cregan stark fluff, Cregan shares a bath with his wife at the end of a long day🐺

Cregan Stark trudged through the halls of Winterfell, his mind heavy with the weight of the day’s discussions. The Northern lords had gathered in the great hall, voices raised in debate over alliances, resources, and the ever-looming threat further north. It had been a long, exhausting day, filled with the intricacies of politics that seemed to take place over many hours.

As he entered his shared chambers, a wave of warmth washed over him. The flickering light of the fire and candles danced across the walls, and he caught sight of his wife, immersed in a steaming bath, her silver hair hung over the edge of the bath as her handmaiden massaged her scalp with oils, the scent of lavender filling the air. A smile broke across his tired face as he shed his heavy cloak and approached her while her handmaiden left the room.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, his voice softer than it had been all day

“Not at all,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with warmth. As he settled into the tub beside her, the tension in his shoulders began to melt away.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, gazing at her, “how lucky I am to have you by my side.”

She smirked, “do continue”

“I remember the first time I saw you,” he began, a fondness creeping into his voice. “You were climbing off the back of your dragon,Joining your father and mothers troops outside the walls of winterfell. You hair was loosely pulled back in a plait and you were in your riding leathers. Your cheeks were gone pink from the cold. I thought you were the most fierce and beautiful woman I had ever encountered. I’ve seen men run at the sight of bears and wolves, and there you were, on the back of the biggest, most fierce beast of all without any fear”

She chuckled softly, the sound like music to his ears. “I had no idea you were paying such close attention.”

“I was enchanted,” he admitted, leaning closer. “And I knew then that I wanted you in my life, not just as my wife but as my partner in everything.”

“I was enthralled by you, you weren’t like any man i had seen before” she began. “The men in the south are tall but skinny, pampered as you would say, but you, god you were a real man. Your presence it just demands respect and the gods truly did bless you with your looks. Who would’ve thought, such a beauty hiding all the way down in the crisp cold north” she chuckled

As they shared laughter and stories, the burdens of the day faded away, replaced by the warmth of their bond. In that quiet moment, Cregan realized that amidst the chaos of politics and leadership, it was these simple, intimate moments that truly made him feel at home.