#he might have the blood of the dragon but he is a wolf HE IS THE PRINCE THAT WAS PROMISED

[danielslaw]

KIT HARRINGTON AS JON SNOW GAME OF THRONES: SEASON SIX EPISODE 9 THE BATTLE OF THE BASTARDS: PRELUDE DON'T WAKE THE DRAGON WOLF

[swordgrace]

𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅𝐒𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃, 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ cregan stark x fem!targtower!reader.

SYNOPSIS: as the youngest daughter of alicent hightower, you are wed to the young wolf, cregan stark. what many believe to be a union of strife, such a notion is proven wrong very quickly.

anonymous request.

{ FORMAT: one-shot — requested by anon.

{ WORD COUNT: 6.7K.

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), arranged marriage, reader is a targtower with pale hair & lilac eyes, skin color unspecified, first time sex (for reader), loss of virginity, p in v sex (unprotected), massive breeding kink, all stark men have a breeding gene, oral sex / cunnilingus (fem!rec), face-sitting, biting/marking, making out, lots of touching, missionary position, talk of having a child, soft ending + aftercare

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: There’s been a ton of Cregan requests, so I hope that this satisfies a lot of people until I post another! ❤️ Thank you all so much for the incredible requests and support of my work, it means the world to me and I am extremely grateful for all of it. See you guys soon!

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 — 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐜𝐞.

The North was often regarded as a harsh and unyielding environment, with bitter, stinging winds and snowfalls that could bury men alive beneath their might. Such tales were often told to scare children or dissuade them from leaving the roost.

It was untamed and savage, according to your mother — she who vehemently fought against your betrothal to Cregan Stark, the Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell. A marriage steeped in wariness and discord, you had been pleasantly surprised by your husband’s kindness and warm stoicism.

Piety was a rarity in the bleak, bloodsoaked world you lived within — innocence was a quality as uncommon as a diamond in the rough. When Cregan had been offered such a sacred proposal during the last days of King Viserys I, he nearly scoffed at it.

A Targaryen, a Hightower — he almost imagined that the both of you would not do well together, and that it would become a sour union, made only to please families and uphold duty. His advisors, old men with embittered grudges against the South, cautioned him away from it, imploring him to wed a girl from the Vale or the Reach.

When Cregan Stark met you, clad in pale shades of sage and ivory, with lilac hues and a smile that could melt even the toughest of ice, perhaps it would not be a dreadful marriage after all.

Even with a dragon at your heel, there was something positively resplendent about you — Cregan could feel it within his marrow, a feeling seldom felt by any man locked in an arranged betrothal.

It was your innocuous, tenderhearted nature that beguiled him, as if you unconsciously drew him in with your honey. Your very first meeting happened to be to seal the marriage pact itself before you would be shipped away to the North, to be his wife and the new Lady Stark.

Cregan rarely found himself charmed by anyone, yet you possessed an inner beauty that flourished in his presence. You were your own flame, burning through his hardened exterior. He did not mistake your docile nature for weakness — you possessed a dragon, where he did not.

You were rather taken with him, perplexed by his outward ruggedness and gruff accent, the way in which he carried himself, massive physique clad in the thick trappings of a wolf. He was a mountain of a man, yet he handled you as if you were some precious jewel, sacred and worthy of admiration.

Alicent begrudgingly watched as you, her youngest daughter, untainted by her own fractured morality, was sent away to the North in the hands of some brute. For the good of the Realm, Viserys had told her, but it cut deeper knowing that it was you, her beloved flesh and blood.

Yet, as you found yourself beneath the crimson leaves of the Weirwood Tree in the Godswood, hands bound with Cregan’s own, you forgot about your mother’s bitterness entirely — and you were happy.

The first kiss was one that would make a permanent residence within your memory for lifetimes to come. He had cradled your face, towering over you as if he were a solemn statue, but even you could see the softening within his visage.

King’s Landing was suffocating, more often than not. The animosity that festered between your family smothered you, crushing you beneath its sharp heel. You were no longer surrounded by bitterness and resentment, and instead, cloaked by the protection and warmth of your new husband.

The feast held in honor of your blossoming union was one of merriment, the mood lighthearted and blissful. You sat beside your husband, stomach tumbling with a coil of nerves. Everyone seemed foreign to you, unfamiliar faces with their northern attitudes and odd indifference.

You could not fault anyone for having their suspicions, given your heritage. Being a Targaryen, pale-headed and violet-eyed, bringing your dragon from the South — it must’ve been jarring. Growing into your station as the Lady of Winterfell would be a long and arduous process, but you hoped that Cregan would show you the way.

Oblivious to your Lord-Husband’s smoldering stare, you politely consumed bites of the sugar-dusted fruit cobbler, admiring the vibrant aura within the room. Your wedding gowns were as pure as the driven snow, accented with silver embroidery and lined with pale fleece to keep you warm, given the cold gnaw of winter.

If it weren’t for Cregan’s steadfastness in providing you with a new wardrobe fit for winter, the icy chill would’ve consumed your extremities from the inside-out.

Leaning over within his seat, Cregan reached for your hand, stormy-gray hues churning with a kindness reserved for you. “How are you faring, wife?” He inquired, voice a low rumble; a soothing timbre that sent shivers down your spine.

“Very well,” Warmth crawled along your flesh when he referred to you as wife so openly and affectionately. You weren’t accustomed to having someone be so attentive to you, hang upon your every word, treat you with such courteousness. “This is so wonderful. I must thank you and your Keep, for your kindness.”

If you were anyone else, Cregan might’ve treated you with a stalwart cordiality found in most formalities, but you were not anyone else. You were good, sweet, and kindhearted — above all, you were quite innocent. He would’ve been telling himself a bold lie if he hadn’t thought about taking you to bed several times already.

The colors of the North suited you — his home suited you. Not many men of his position were so lucky when it came to betrothals, but he felt as if he was beyond fortunate to have married you. Cregan only hoped to be a good husband to you and to your future children, heirs to Winterfell, with the blood of the dragon and the wolf in their veins.

He had forbidden a bedding ceremony, content to guide you to your chambers once the festivities ceased, instead. Cregan enjoyed observing you and your demure mannerisms, from the way you made small talk with those around you, complimenting the choice of food and drink. It warmed his heart to know that his wife was an amiable soul.

“You needn’t worry, Princess. It is my duty as your husband to show you a bit of Northern hospitality.” Cregan mused, a ghost of a smile tugging at either corner of his mouth. He rarely showed any emotion, let alone treating his subjects with a smile given his hardiness, but he did show a sliver of it for you. He didn’t want to scare you away.

With a delighted smile, your hand shyly curled around his, your skin unblemished and soft. Cregan hadn’t touched a woman as silky as you, and it made his blood run hot — an inopportune time, given that it was in the midst of his wedding feast. “Thank you, my Lord.” You weren’t sure if you were permitted to abandon formalities just yet.

Cregan huffed, gaze twinkling with amusement as he let your smaller hand hold his own, digits tenderly caressing over your knuckles. “I would hope that you only call me ‘my Lord’ if you’re angry with me,” His chest rumbled with an affectionate sound. “You aren’t in King’s Landing anymore.”

Embarrassment rippled through you, but before you could correct yourself out of anxiousness, Cregan gingerly squeezed your hand. Instead, it evoked a smile from you, the very same tender expression you’d given him when you were proclaimed as his wife. “I will call you husband when I am pleased with you.” You mused, bright as could be, and so blissfully naive.

Often regarded as a brooding, serious man with little traces of humor, Cregan found himself letting his guard down just enough with you. Of course, to any observer, he still seemed rather stoic, but the brief, fleeting looks he gave you, the threadbare smiles — it suggested otherwise.

As the excitable buzz of the feast began to simmer, Cregan stood from the table, wood scraping across the stone floors of the Great Hall. He stepped away from you, sparing the servants and guardsmen a word before he returned to your side.

“Is there not to be a bedding ceremony?” You whispered, stomach still tight and festering with nervousness. It was something you feared since you last saw Aegon and Helaena be hauled away for such a thing. The concept of it frightened you, twisted and unusual.

With furrowed brows, Cregan shook his head, offering his thick arm out for you to take. “No,” He grunted, noticing the swell of anxiousness etched into your features. “I would never subject you to such a thing, or myself.” He murmured, feeling you take his arm as he led you from the Great Hall.

Relief flooded through you, and you finally relaxed, seemingly appreciative of Cregan’s thoughtfulness in the matter. “Thank you, husband.” You sighed, gripping onto his arm as he led you into a warm corridor and towards a massive spiral of thick, stone steps.

Though, you still had a duty to perform — consummating the marriage, creating an heir. Part of you feared what it all entailed, given that Helaena never seemed pleased with any of it. Would he hurt you? You were uncertain, but you wanted to believe that your new husband would keep you safe.

Cregan welcomed you into your marital chambers, tidied and polished for your stay. Whatever belongings you brought with you, they were situated near a set of fine, wooden chairs circled around a stone table. Everything seemed warm and comely in his quarters, the direwolf aesthetic heavy-handed, the hearth crackling and bursting with ripples of fire.

“If there is something not to your liking, inform me — I will have it rearranged,” Cregan rumbled, following in your footsteps as you neared the open hearth, warming your hands and basking in its glow. He stood close to you, towering over you with his bulk and might. “How are you?” He asked, ensuring your comfort above all else.

There was little need for the hearth when Cregan was near, radiating a natural heat that drew you in. His countenance seemed softer, not nearly as impassive as he’d been before. “I am more than fine, I promise.” You assured him, hands wringing together. “I thought that I would miss home, but I do not. Isn’t that terrible?”

Perplexed, Cregan seemed inclined to listen to your elaboration, chestnut tresses framing his face. “It isn’t a terrible thing, princess. I would imagine that it must be freeing, to be somewhere else. You’ve never left the capital.” He replied, knowing that you were quite sheltered for most of your life.

A soft sigh escaped you, and you tried not to think about it anymore. You didn’t want to sour the mood with talk of home and the past — this was now. “It is liberating,” You confessed, craning to look at him with a semblance of wonder and affection. “I am happy that I’m here with you.” You spoke with genuineness and finality.

It was pleasing to hear you say such a thing, and even better to know that you truly meant it. One thick, burly arm slowly encircled your hips, bringing you into the warm expanse of his chest. “Good,” He murmured, expression steely. “That pleases me greatly.”

To know that Cregan valued your happiness was a wonderful feeling — you felt cared for and seen, shrouded within his protectiveness. You imagined that it would be a blissful marriage. “Thank you, Cregan.” His name slipped from your perfect tongue, and he thoroughly enjoyed the sound it made.

A low rumble vibrated through Cregan’s chest as he drew you as close as he could, tracing his calloused digits along the soft curve of your jaw. “You are very beautiful,” He murmured, timbre edged with a delicious husk that made your knees buckle. You shivered, something that he took note of. “Are you cold, wife?”

You nodded, sucking in a sharp breath when his lips neared yours. “I am.” A squeak escaped you, followed by a steady exhale. You had been kissed before, but the extent of your experience abruptly stopped there. You imagined that you wouldn’t be cold for much longer.

His lips met yours, the kiss tender yet passionate, deepened by your husband. Cregan found your mouth to be most pleasant, pliant and perfectly soft, yet malleable. You reciprocated his kiss, hands moving to press against his chest.

“Will it be painful?” You whispered, likely in an attempt to soothe your gnawing nervousness. Agony was something that didn’t coexist with pleasure, in your mind. You wanted this moment to be special and sacred, binding yourself to your husband.

Cregan hesitated, gently cupping your face with his rough palm, tenderly stroking along your cheek. “I wouldn’t dare harm you, princess. You have my word.” He assured, and it confirmed his suspicions — you hadn’t been with another before. “It might be painful, but I will be gentle. We don’t have to start tonight.”

Admittedly, it was quite the opposite for you — you wanted to start tonight, but you longed for clarification first, and he gave it to you. You shook your head, hands slipping toward the front of his tunic, as if silently pleading with him to stay. “I want to.” You insisted, looking like the picture of innocence.

As much as he liked you sweet and pious, Cregan had a feeling that it would be somewhat different after this. His gray hues swirled with a heavy desire, dropping towards the delicate curve of your mouth. “May I?” It was all that he needed to ask, and as soon as you nodded, he brought you in for a heated kiss.

Despite his appearance, a stone-faced wall of muscle and Northern strength, he was incredibly gentle with you. He held you against him, never tight enough to cause you discomfort, hands softly kneading into your hips. You kissed him back as best as you could, feverishly hot, butterflies erupting within your stomach.

His beautiful wife — Cregan could not imagine another, now that he had you in his arms. The way you kissed him was innocuous and tender, as if you were also terrified of making a mistake. Your purity, a precious thing indeed, would be tarnished and dissolved after this evening.

The thought of you, round and swollen with his child, was both tantalizing and tempting — well within his grasp. Cregan wondered if they would take after you, pale-headed with lilac hues, or perhaps himself. If the Gods were good, they would be a blend of the both of you, a dragon and a wolf.

You shivered again when your burly husband curled his hand into the back of your wedding gown, fingers slipping between the gaps, feeling inklings of your bare skin beneath. “I’ll keep you warm, wife.” He rumbled, pressing a kiss against your jaw. It wasn’t from the cold, he knew this, but his honeyed words made you flustered.

He dropped his cloak, allowing the thick curtain of fur to land against the floor. He was impossibly broad, as thick as stone, tunic loose yet snug enough to accentuate his brawn. You felt your breath hitch within your throat, swallowing another barrage of nerves.

Cregan’s mouth assailed your neck, hand peeling away the collar of pale fur in order to reach you. Every kiss was passionate, wrought with need, yet maintained that air of gentleness. Roughness was in his nature, but he wouldn’t dare fall into that pit on your wedding night.

You tasted ambrosial, sweet velvet beneath his lips, which peppered themselves wherever they could. He listened to your soft gasps and needy whines, your hands having curled into the coarse material of his tunic. He wanted to show you just how perfect you really were.

Suddenly, your gown felt much too tight and constricting, as if you would drown within it. You alleviated such sensations by loosening the bodice, tugging on the ivory strings. The fur became unraveled as Cregan gently draped the garment over the back of a chair.

Left in the thin, humble trappings of your smallclothes, nothing more than a corset hugging a linen slip, he silently appraised you with the hunger of a wolf. You appeared to be shy, somewhat coy in his presence as he looked you over, large palms settling against the swell of your hips.

“Why do you shy away?” Cregan murmured, chestnut brows furrowing together, tone one of genuine concern. You were the prettiest creature he’d ever seen — most Targaryens were known for their beauty, but you possessed it both ways, inner and outer, and that only made you more incomparable in his eyes.

Swallowing your nerves, you chewed at the inside of your cheek, hands fidgeting together. “I suppose I worry about what you’ll think,” A sore insecurity, to be sure, but something most young maidens possessed. Cregan’s gray hues softened, one hand stroking along the length of your spine. “That I won’t be suitable.”

A huff escaped him, a threadbare chuckle as he shook his head, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “You worry too much, princess.” That deep, thunderous timbre of his, husky with his Northern accent, shook you right to your core. “You are my wife — and you are perfect.” He assured, kissing along your jaw.

You exhaled, hands reaching for his tunic, wanting to see him without his clothing. There was a rush of warmth that crawled across your flesh, surging through your blood as Cregan pressed endless kisses against your skin. He trailed from jaw to collarbone, hands loosening your corset.

With a brusque tug, your gruff husband tore it from you altogether, tossing the bodice aside. “I will show you how perfect you are.” He rumbled, voice a low, heavy caress near the shell of your ear. You shivered, gaze half-lidded as you tugged insistently at his tunic.

The message was unspoken, but conveyed nonetheless as your mountain of a husband let his hands drop from you, only to tug the coarse, dark linen over his head. He was burly, broad-shouldered and thick with muscle, wisps of chestnut tresses framing his face.

Amusingly enough, Cregan possessed more of a cherubic, youthful face than you expected, yet his nose was slightly crooked from having it broken, faint scars upon his face. His eyes seemed wisened, old beyond his years. He reached for your slip, gathering the material within his hands as he looked to you for consent.

With your confidence rejuvenated, you nodded, breathless and wanton as you assisted him in maneuvering out of your thin smallclothes. The brief lick of chilled air dragged across your bare flesh, causing your nipples to harden, pebbling with the chill.

Fire danced across your physique, tantalizing and gorgeous, beautiful beyond compare. Even Cregan seemed speechless for a beat, throat reverberating with a low grunt as he motioned toward your shared bed.

You half-expected him to pounce on you, grab your hips and stake his claim, but he simply resorted to watching you slide onto the bed, covered in furs of all varieties. The frame rustled slightly, and you laid down, a picture of true perfection. Your crown of pale tresses seemed to stick out amidst the darker pallor of the furs.

Anticipation churned violently within your gut, arousal slick and mounting between your thighs as Cregan stalked closer, removing clothing in the process. You watched with bated breath as he loosened the ties of his breeches, removing them altogether.

It was to be expected — a man of his indomitable stature likely had the assets to accompany it. You nearly choked at the sight of him, terrified that it really would hurt, even if he was gentle. You sucked in a sharp breath, bewildered when he had reclined beside you instead.

“I won’t bite, my Lady.” Cregan rumbled, soothingly patting his lap as you crawled closer. He effortlessly picked you up, letting you straddle his hips as he admired you from below. “Hm.” With a hum of approval, he caressed along your form, stroking from your thigh to your breasts.

It was agonizingly deliberate, made to explore and study instead of acting upon salacious impulses. Cregan observed you closely, palm gently cupping your breast, thumb swiping over your nipple. You gasped, careening into his sensual embrace.

A flurry of desire bubbled within him when you planted your smaller hand atop his, as if encouraging him to knead and grope at his leisure. He seemed pleased, and so did you, a low hum escaping you as he caressed your silky flesh.

He made sure to show that same amount of attention to your unattended breast, slowly kneading into you. Those tempestuous gray hues never tore themselves away from you, boring into you with a searing intensity.

Warm slick coalesced between your thighs, only mounting and growing when he continued to touch you, hand lifting to cup your chin. You absentmindedly leaned into his touch, eyes becoming half-lidded as you rocked forward within his lap.

The sensations you felt were new and exhilarating, goosebumps dancing across your spine, heat pooling between your legs. “May I touch you?” You asked, tone delicate and sweet, a display of your piety and innocence. He quite enjoyed your desire to explore alongside him, and he gave a nod of his head.

“You don’t need to ask, princess.” He soothed, jaw tensing as your soft palms settled against his chest. Cregan’s stormy eyes didn’t leave you, carefully tracing each plane of your curves, the downy texture of your skin, the lilac glint of your eyes.

Your fingertips dragged across his musculature, committing each scar to memory, features becoming hot beneath his incendiary stare. He was your husband now — you imagined that scenarios like these would become commonplace. “You are so handsome,” You whispered incredulously, lips curling into a gentle smile. “Perfect.”

Cregan appeared perplexed, a soft huff escaping him as he trailed his calloused palm across the small of your back. He couldn’t recall the last time someone had called him perfect and meant it — and he knew that you did. He neglected to act, allowing you to explore as much as you pleased.

Awestruck, he watched with silent hunger as you leaned down, lips pressing against his own. A soft grunt escaped Cregan as he caged you in, mouth passionate as it tangled with yours. He enjoyed the feeling of your body snug atop his, your skin resplendent, like velvet against the grating bite of stone.

Dragging a hand from the swell of your hips to the nape of your neck, he gripped the base of your skull, gingerly kneading into your pale tresses. He kissed you again, oozing with desire as he stole every wisp of air from your lungs.

He pulled one leg up into a v-shape, supporting your back to keep you upright atop his lap. You could feel the thick girth of his cock nudge against your backside, causing you to shiver at the foreign sensation. “Do you trust me?” Cregan murmured, roughened fingertips dragging over the pliant flesh of your thigh.

There was an indiscernible look within his eyes, chestnut brows drawing together slightly. Your breath hitched as you nodded, and Cregan settled against the furs, strewn on his back. Those strong hands of his continued to nudge you forward, bringing you from his warm lap to his chest, and then a touch closer.

“What are you …” Uncertain yet filled with exhilaration, you had no idea what Cregan was planning. Your slick cunt neared his mouth, and your Northern paramour did little to slow the process, bumping you forward until you hovered above him. “C—Cregan, C —” Your voice tapered off into a whine.

His tongue raked hot embers across your cunt, a sensation that immediately made your knees buckle. You used the headboard to brace yourself, mouth tearing open as a strangled gasp escaped you. Part of you feared sitting down entirely, but Cregan coaxed you down, hands digging into your haunches.

Your reaction was beyond worthwhile, body trembling and coiled, hand scrambling to brace yourself as the other fervently dug into his chestnut tresses. You never imagined that such pleasure was even possible, filling you with an excitable ecstasy that sank into your bones.

Splitting past your folds, Cregan tasted every inch of you, tongue seeking your cunt with a fervor. He was vigorous in his ministrations, not shying away from consuming every drop of your arousal. His nose brushed against your mound, hands kneading into your thighs to reassure you, let you know that he had you.

Even when he rested beneath you, he still seemed indomitable, perhaps a touch intimidating. You didn’t look down, body involuntarily trembling and rocking forward, back beginning to arch. “Gods, a—ah!” You stammered, thighs twitching and quivering as his tongue gently flicked over your clit.

Visibly flustered, you felt so strange and smitten, riding your husband’s face as you would your dragon. It filled your belly with a rousing fire, one bright enough to consume the rest of your body, licking along the length of your spine.

A low rumble emerged from Cregan’s chest, a vibration that rattled you to your core. He wanted you to have your fill, take as much as you could and drown within pleasure. Your maidenhead was still intact, a virtue that he did not treat lightly. He didn’t feel the need to breathe, lapping at your cunt with a wolfish gluttony.

You were undeniably soaked, like a fine stout upon his tongue as he devoured you. Cregan was passionate, each stroke of his tongue ensuring that you felt it all, bliss erupting throughout your stomach.

Chasing after what you imagined to be your release, you happened to peer down for a moment, finding the contented face of your husband, whose face was lodged between your legs. His brows were creased in concentration, tongue prodding against your entrance before languidly flicking back to your clit.

It was only when he pursed his lips around that sensitive clutch of nerves, that you nearly collapsed around him. Even your draconic blood could melt, tempered by the hardened ice of your Northern paramour. You gasped, hips stuttering as your thighs squeezed at either side of his head — fortunately, he didn’t seem to care.

The only thing you wanted was this, forever — your husband’s tongue between your legs, a sanctuary in the North with a potential family, a life in which you could finally find your solace. You continued to squirm and writhe, moaning his praises into the warmth of your chambers.

As you approached your peak, you grappled with Cregan’s tresses, tugging at the root as you rocked forward, again and again. “Cregan,” You moaned, countenance contorting into a look of sheer pleasure, bones crawling with an insatiable heat. “Cregan, Cregan, please!” It was a siren’s song of desire.

He did not stop, but he didn’t change course, either. Instead, he simply continued on, suckling at your clit as he intermingled it with timed laps of his tongue. Your release slammed into you, white-hot and blistering, gnawing away at your stomach as that coil of heat effectively snapped.

A whine emerged from you, one that was nearly breathless as you rocked forward again, legs shaking from ecstasy as you rode out your peak. Cregan, ever the dutiful husband, lapped at your nectar, savoring the taste, the scent of a pleasurable aftermath.

“What —” You had to catch your breath again, attempting to recuperate as you sat back on his chest instead, thick, burly muscle plentiful enough to cushion you. “Where did you learn how to do that?” It was an innocuous question, one so sweetly-spoken that it nearly caused Cregan to chuckle.

He did, however, smile — a rare, sentimental gesture reserved only for you. It was threadbare, and if it weren’t for the nature of your relationship, one might’ve thought him to be rugged and indifferent. “You need only ask, princess, and I will oblige.” His voice was a deep rumble that warmed your insides.

You thoroughly enjoyed the nickname of princess — a term of endearment given your status, but you were a princess no longer. “I am a lady of the North now, aren’t I? A princess no longer,” You proclaimed, skin shimmering with perspiration. “What will you call me, now?” You asked.

“Hm,” Cregan contemplated, pressing a kiss against your leg before he sat up enough to have a good look at you, chin still glistening with your slick. The sight was lewd, enough to make you unbelievably flustered as he grew closer, nearly chest-to-chest with you. “Lady Stark would suffice.” He murmured.

Something amorous burned within you, a smolder that soon turned to ignited sparks. “It would please me greatly.” You hummed, running your hands over his biceps before Cregan gently changed places with you, moving you beneath his bulk, comfortable upon your back.

Soft was a mere understatement — he could feel himself melt. It was not your dragon’s blood or heat that made him crumble, but your heart. He could imagine you as the mother of his children, belly round with his heirs, the Lady of Winterfell, a Hightower no longer.

He settled between your legs, and you gasped when his cock gently glided against your slick core. Cregan knew to temper himself, to be as gentle as he could with it being your wedding night, but his resolve was steadily diminished in your presence. He steeled himself, pressing a string of kisses along your body.

Without thinking, you unconsciously goaded Cregan into a point of near-frenzy. Your hands found the taut, trunk-like muscle of his biceps, visage filled with a sense of awe and adoration. “A child would please me greatly.” You confessed, having no clue what it would do to your husband.

Cregan stopped, digits curling into the thick furs on either side of your head. It took every fiber of his being not to fuck you then and there — and he wouldn’t, it wasn’t right for him to take your maidenhead with such roughness. His fantasy became reality, a visceral, beautiful vision that made him grunt, jaw unnaturally tense.

His rough palm soothingly stroked along your thigh, lust swelling within him like a blizzard, a violent storm of need that transcended all bonds of propriety. “Does Lady Stark want me to put a pup in her belly?” Cregan rumbled, tempestuous hues ignited with a fire that demanded to be extinguished, sending shockwaves right to your core.

You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, shuddering at the sound of his voice — an edged husk, like the rumbling of thunder before a deluge or the shaking of a mountain. “Yes,” You exhaled, searching his countenance, only to find desire. “I would.”

The Gods were testing him, aiming to see if he would break beneath the pressure, but he refused. Cregan lowered himself over you, lips molding themselves against yours in a hot kiss. Your hands remained poised atop his biceps, barely able to wrap themselves around the thick, corded muscle.

He wasn’t much of a talker, and it quickly dwindled into deep grunts and heavier sighs as he aligned his cock with your entrance. He made sure to part your legs, keeping them spread as he began to push inside of you. The sudden intrusion made you gasp, startled at the twinge of pain, the discomfort of it all.

Cregan despised the mere thought of causing you harm, and even he was willing to end it all then and there. “We don’t have to continue, beloved.” He rumbled, pressing a soothing string of kisses along your face. The endearing nickname made you preen, nails digging into his arms.

“No, I — I’m well enough,” You breathed, insistent on continuing. Cregan deliberated, but when you let out a low whine, he obeyed your command. “Gods, I need you, Cregan.” Pitched with a wanton resonance, you urged him to keep going.

Your neediness made his blood run hot, and he nodded, sluggishly resuming his pace. He continued to tilt his hips forward, cock feeding into you, inch by agonizing inch. Cregan felt the desperate bite of your nails clutching into muscle, leaving behind angry crescents.

You were never fully warned of the pain, the discomfort that accompanied pleasure. It was always sold as some fantasy, particularly for men — nights of heavenly passion resulting in bliss. For you, it was simply a marital duty to provide your husband with an heir, but this transcended that. Passion and affection sparked between the both of you, and it felt right.

As Cregan finally bottomed out inside of you, he allowed you time to fully adjust, rocking into you at a lackadaisical pace. He continued to shower you in kisses, wherever his lips could reach, giving particular affection to the crook of your neck.

Whatever discontent you felt, you hastily pushed it aside, tossing it into the recesses of your mind. Instead, you focused on him — on how incredible he made you feel, the warmth you experienced in his presence. One of your hands slipped to thread within his chestnut tresses, mouth agape.

You took him so well — better than expected, and it filled him with a sense of pride and ardor. Cregan pressed hungry kisses along your throat, nose buried into the hollow of it, right beneath your jugular. He continued to go slow, afraid of causing you further pain.

Cregan repositioned his hand, leaving one lodged beside your head, the other sinking into your haunch, digits tenderly kneading into your thigh. It was an offer of reassurance, and he watched your countenance shift from discontented to relaxed.

“Move,” The sharpness of your command brought him to heel, and he very nearly smiled — it was there, the ghost of it toying at his lips. Bringing his hips back and then forward, you moaned, knowing that the sting of pain would soon blossom into pleasure. “Please.”

Molten heat swirled within the pit of your stomach, arousal thick between your legs as Cregan began to find his pace, a rhythm that shook you to your core. He was so very gentle, even for a man of his herculean mass and muscle. He took care of you, soothingly caressing your thigh as he thrusted into you.

His cock filled you completely, a stretch that would take you more than just one night to adjust to. Your maidenhead was gone, your cunt tight around his length, pulling him in again and again.

Cregan’s breathing became heavier, somewhat labored as he consummated your union. Each snap of his hips held meaning, beyond the creation of an heir. It was tenuous with feelings, a burning sentiment he felt for you, ardor that had grown into a fire.

Admittedly, his mind was hazy, fueled by desire and the mere thought of you wanting a child — you had asked it of him, demanded, and he was at your mercy. Cregan couldn’t have gotten any luckier with you, the most resplendent woman he’d ever seen.

Imagining you full and round, still as lovely as the day he set his eyes upon you, a mother and a dragon — it was nothing short of true perfection. He chased after it, evident by the growing vigor and passion in each thrust of his hips, cock nearly tearing you into two.

No matter how gentle and careful Cregan was with you, it was to no avail, but you no longer cared. “Cregan,” You moaned, lifting one leg to hitch it around his waist, and that only seemed to further spur him on, allowing him to hit new depths. His throbbing length nearly kissed your womb, filling you to the brim. “Cregan!” You cried.

For a moment, you feared being split in-half by your mountain of a husband, but he slowed enough to let you recuperate, throat reverberating with carnal grunts. The rumbling of his chest, the heat that radiated from him in waves — it was all perfect.

It was driving him mad, the way your cunt constricted around his cock, the way in which your back arched from the furs, chest brushing against his. Cregan grunted, jaw set and brows furrowed in concentration as he kneaded into your thigh, something to alleviate his tension.

His thrusts deepened, became passionate and invigorated with love, and each snap of his hips made your head spin with delirium. You were drunk on desire, clinging to him as if you were a drowning maiden, hand splayed against his shoulder.

Whenever he happened to become a touch too vigorous, he felt your nails dig deep into his flesh, leaving behind the reddened marks of your consummation. Cregan was getting close, chest erupting with labored pants as he pressed his forehead against yours.

You moaned, body bending beneath his passion, malleable within his hands. His cock throbbed within you as he sought to spill his seed, face against yours, lips occasionally connecting in a series of sloppy, warm kisses. Everything felt incredible, in ways that you couldn’t comprehend.

He was so burly, a thick wall of impenetrable muscle that seemed to envelop you entirely, shield you from everything else, from all harm. Strands of chestnut stuck to his temples, flesh glittering with perspiration from the exertion of lovemaking, coupled with the heat in your chambers.

With another brusque thrust of his hips, he settled inside of you, reaching his peak with a subtle groan. His seed filled your cunt in hot ropes, more than enough to take, if the Gods were good. Cregan exhaled, feverishly hot as he began to recuperate, neglecting to remove himself from you for a few moments.

“Are you alright?” Cregan murmured, ensuring your wellbeing first, above all else. A stinging soreness settled into your thighs and your core, but you would survive. He didn’t completely obliterate you, thankfully — you wondered what he would be like, unrestrained.

“Yes,” You smiled, visibly flustered beneath the intensity of his stare. “That was incredible.” Your confession made him huff, likely one of amusement as he pressed a kiss against your forehead. Even you glittered with sweat, but that was to be expected.

You already wanted more — and you nearly asked it of him.

Lascivious fantasies took root within your mind, and the mere idea of him being rough and completely domineering made your cunt throb. You could not do it now, given how exhausted you were, but he had certainly unlocked a new side to you, a side that you were unfamiliar with.

Cregan pulled himself from you, propping your hips up beneath a feathered pillow to ensure that his seed would take. He rested beside you, drawing you into the bulk of his muscled arms, allowing you to rest your head against the expanse of his chest. “You were perfect.” He rumbled, roughened digits stroking along your spine.

It pleased you to know that your husband was satisfied with you, much to your delight. “I am glad,” Relief rippled through you as you inched closer, perfectly slotted against his frame. “So were you.” Your pleasant accolades made him smile, fracturing his stony exterior.

“There will be plenty of time for this, that I can promise you,” Cregan was more concerned with getting to know you, his beautiful lady-wife, Lady Stark. “I would like to start with you.” He murmured, savoring the sensation of your fingers tracing across his abdomen.

You blinked, seemingly surprised by Cregan’s genuine interest in you. It made you happy — perhaps you could have both. Moments of learning and moments like these, where you could indulge in pleasure.

“Would it offend you if I asked you to do both?” You questioned, warmth crawling along your body as Cregan squeezed the swell of your hip, gray hues sparkling with a semblance of mirth.

“It wouldn’t,” Cregan mused, timbre dropping to a lull, a husky octave that seemed to envelop you in its stoicism and warmth. “It pleases me to know that Lady Stark possesses the appetite of a dragon.” His teasing made you squirm, but he simply caressed you and held you closer.

With a coy smile, you lifted your head, pressing your lips against his, asserting your still-lingering desire for your husband. “Not a dragon,” Your tone softened with a sweeter resonance. “A wolf.”

copyright @ swordgrace ; please do not steal my work and claim it as your own or translate it onto other platforms.

[infin1ty-garden]

can you write something with cregan and targ reader about her and his direwolf?

WINTER WALK

✧. ┊ summary: [ in request ] ✧. ┊ pairing: cregan stark x targaryen! fem! reader ✧. ┊ warnings: none ✧. ┊ word count: 477 ✧. ┊ author note: i never finished reading blood and fire. is probably ooc & not how people talk in the got universe. takes place before s2

masterlist.

Even as a Targaryen you gravitate to the north. Might be because your hand was promised to Cregan Stark and getting to know your betrothed before your marriage, was a privilege not many have. Dragons have made it easier to travel. A raven has been sent to announce you'll be heading to Winterfell.

Cregan was waiting for you upon your arrival. Your dragon wasn't full grown yet and a lot easier to take care of. "How was your journey?" He asked once you landed. "Tiring," a cloak was draped around your shoulders. In a conversation you'd said that due to flying from the red keep to Winterfell, changing clothes on a dragon is impossible.

You hadn't thought Cregan inquiring about your dragon, would result in this. You thanked him as the two of you made your way to Winterfell. A few dragon keepers had made their way to the north in order to take care of your dragon. You decided to retire for the day as the ride exhausted you. What you didn't expect was on a late night stroll to encounter a direwolf.

You had no idea how to treat the beast. You kept a clear mind. Not wanting to show fear. You didn't know how similar dragons are to direwolves. The wolf didn't snarl or get in a position to attack. You didn't move, hoping it would just walk past but the opposite happened. You were so focused on not getting killed, you didn't hear Cregan approaching you.

He slowly took your hand. The wolf sniffed it and turned away. Cregan raised your hand and kissed it lightly. "You shouldn't be out here in this late hour," he started walking back to Winterfell. The wolf follows behind. The next time you say it again. You'd gone out hunting with Cregan when everything went wrong. You were attacked by some thugs.

Cregan stood in front of you, hoping that any arrow would hit him instead of you. His party hid, you two soon following. Not his direwolf, it attacked the thugs. You heard their screams as his men protected you. Cregan leaving your side. Once the fight was over the wolf came over to you. Lightly talking your dress between its teeth as it pulled you out of your hiding spot.

Cregan checks if you were hurt and confirms you weren't leading you back to the castle. The wolf refuses to leave your side for the remainder of the day. You made your way to your chambers, trailing behind you. "You can't follow me there." You pointed to the door of your chambers. It followed in any way. Making itself comfortable on the bed. "What are you doing?"

It wouldn't listen to you no matter what and was too big for you to move it on your own. So, you just had to deal with it.

Thanks for reading & requesting!

[felassan]

Cliff notes on the new info on Dragon Age: The Veilguard in today’s issue of Game Informer (magazine hub link):

Edit/update: I tidied up this post. ^^

---

In CC you can customize things like shoulder width, chest size, glute size, hip width, how bloodshot your eyes are, nose crookedness, and more

There are hundreds of sliders for body proportions

CC detail: “Features like skin hue, tone, melanin”

There is nudity in DA:TV, “which I learned firsthand while customizing my Rook” in CC

Rook’s backstory also affects “reputation standing”, along with the other previously-known things like in-game dialogue etc

Lords of Fortune are pirate-themed, “piratic”

Rook ascends because of competency, not because of a magical McGuffin, contrasting with the 'destiny-has-chosen you’ angle DA:I has for the Inquisitor

Rook is here because they chose to be, “and that speaks to the kind of character that we’ve built. Someone needs to stop this, and Rook says, ‘I guess that’s me'”

The 4 voices we can choose for Rook each have a pitch shifter in CC

The game starts inside the bar (as previously detailed in other coverage)

In some dialogue wheels there is a “romantically inclined ‘emotional’ response” option. These are the replies that will build relationships with characters, romantic and platonic alike, but you can ignore them if you want to. Giving a companion the cold shoulder might nudge them into another companion’s embrace however

Bellara’s surname is Lutara

In the streets of Minrathous (in the opening segment of the game), there is a wide, winding pathway with a pub which has a dozen NPCs in it (is this The Swan tavern?)

The devs used the DA:TV CC to make each in-world NPC, except for specific characters like companions

There is smart use of verticality, scaling and wayfinding in the gameplay

If you play as e.g. a qunari Rook, the camera adjusts to ensure larger characters like them loom over those below. The camera also adjusts appropriately for dwarves to demonstrate their smaller stature

Neve Gallus is described as being capable

The Venatori Cultists we fight in the opening segment of the game are seizing the chaos caused by the demons unleashed by Solas’ ritual to try and take the opportunity to take over the city

As you traverse deeper and deeper into Solas’ hideout, more of his murals appear on the walls, and things 'get more elven'. Rhodes says “this is because you’re symbolically going back in time, as Minrathous is a city built by mages on the bones of what was originally the home of the elves”

At the heart of Solas’ hideout is his personal eluvian

Demons are fully redesigned in this game, on their original premise as creatures of feeling that live and die off the emotions around them. “As such, they are just a floating nervous system, pushed into this world from the Fade, rapidly assembled into bodies out of whatever scraps they find”

In the opening, we stop Solas’ ritual and save the world. “For now” anyways. Rook passes out moments later and wakes up in a dream-like landscape to the voice of Solas. He explains that a few drops of Rook’s blood interacted with the ritual, connecting them to the Fade forever. (I guess this is why they said in the Discord Q&A on June 14th that Rook has good reasons to want to avoid blood magic)

He also says that he was attempting to move Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain (confirming who the two Evil Gods are) to a new prison, because the one he had previously constructed was failing. Unfortunately, Solas is trapped in the Fade by our doing, and the two gods are now free. “It’s up to Rook to stop them”, thus setting the stage for our adventure

Rook wakes up after this with Harding and Neve “in the lair of the Dread Wolf himself”, a special magical realm in the Fade called The Lighthouse. It’s a towering structure centered amongst various floating islands. This is where the team bonds, grows, and prepares for its adventures. It becomes more functional and homier as you do. “Already, though, it’s a beautifully distraught headquarters for the Veilguard, although they aren’t quite referring to themselves as that just yet”.

Because it was Solas’ home base, it's gaudy, with his fresco murals adorning various walls, greenery hanging from above, and hues of purple and touches of gold everywhere. Since it’s in the Fade, which is a realm of dreams that responds to your world state and emotion, the Lighthouse “reflects the chaos and disrepair of the Thedas you were in moments ago”

Clock symbols over dialogue icons signal optional dialogue options

At this point you can head over to Neve, engage in dialogue, and try and flirt with her

There is a dining hall in the Lighthouse. A plate, cutlery and a drinking chalice are at the end of a massive table. Matt Rhodes says that this is a funny and sad look at Solas’ isolated existence, and an example of the detail BioWare’s art team has put into DA:TV. “It’s like when you go to a friend’s house and see their bedroom for the first time; you get to learn more about them”

There is also a library, which is the central area of the The Lighthouse. It’s here that the party will often regroup and prepare for what’s next

The team decides that it must reach the ritual site back in Arlathan Forest. Corinne Busche said that the writer was "missing unique dialogue options here because I’m qunari; an elf would have more to say about the Fade due to their connection to it. The same goes for my backstory earlier in Minrathous. If I had picked the Shadow Dragons background, Neve would have recognized me immediately, with unique dialogue”

The team decide their next move. They go to Solas’ eluvian and back through to the ritual site in Arlathan Forest. However, it’s not fully functional without Solas, and while it returns them to the Forest, it’s not exactly where they want to go. Then a demon-infested suit of mechanized armor known as a Sentinel attacks them, and two NPCs appear to save you: the Veil Jumpers Strife and Irelin. Harding recognizes them, which you would expect if you read the comic Dragon Age: The Missing. They are experts in ancient elven magic. A cutscene ensues and we learn that Strife and Irelin need help finding Bellara Lutara. This cutscene is long and has multiple dialogue options.

“There’s a heavy emphasis on storytelling and dialogue, and it feels deep and meaty, like a good fantasy novel. BioWare doesn’t shy away from minutes-long cutscenes”

For Rook, this story is about what does it mean to be a leader? We define their leadership style with our choices. “From the sound of it, my team will react to my chosen leadership style in how my relationships play out.” This is demonstrated within the game’s dialogue and a special relationship meter on each character’s companion screen

Bellara is deep within Arlathan Forest, and following the events of the prologue, something is up here. Three rings of massive rocks fly through the air, protecting what appears to be a central fortress. Demon Sentinels plague the surrounding lands.

In gameplay/combat, players complete every swing in real time. Special care was taken in development for animation swing-through and cancelling. We can dash, parry, charge moves, and a completely revamped healing system that allows us to use potions at our discretion by hitting right on the d-pad. You can combo attacks and even ‘bookmark’ combos with a quick dash, which means that you can pause a combo’s status with a dash to safety and continue the rest of the combo afterward

Abilities can be used to customize your kit. They can be used on the fly as long as you account for cooldowns

When you pause and pull up the ability Wheel, it highlights you and your companions’ skills. There you can choose abilities, queue them, target specific enemies, and strategize with synergies and combos

Each character plays the same in that you execute light and heavy attacks with the same buttons, use abilities with the same buttons, and interact with the combo wheel in the same way, regardless of which class you select

Sword and shield warriors can hip-fire or aim their shield and throw it like Captain America

Warriors can parry incoming attacks which can stagger enemies. Rogues have a larger parry window. The mage the writer played couldn’t parry at all. Instead they throw up a shield that blocks incoming attacks automatically, so long as you have the mana to maintain it

On the start/pause screen: it has the map, journal, character sheets, skill tree, and a library for lore information. You can use it to cross-compare equipment and equip new gear for Rook and their companions, build weapon loadouts for quick change-ups mid-combat, and customize you and your party’s abilities and builds via an easy-to-understand skill tree. There aren’t in-depth minutiae, just "real numbers". For example, an unlocked trait might increase damage by 25 percent against armor, but that’s as in-depth as the numbers get. Passive abilities unlock jump attacks and guarantee critical hit opportunities, while abilities add moves like a Wall of Fire to your arsenal if you’re a mage. As you spec out this skill tree, which is 100 percent bespoke to each class, you’ll work closer to unlocking a spec, complete with a unique ultimate ability

“Sentinels and legions of darkspawn”

Combat is flashy and quick, with different types of health bars. Greenish-blue represents a barrier, which is taken down most effectively with ranged attacks

The game is gorgeous, with sprinkles, droplets, and splashes of magic in each attack a mage unleashes

The game looks amazing on consoles both in fidelity and performance modes

The mission to find Bellara is called “In Entropy’s Grasp”. You find her. She is the first companion you recruit (as Neve auto-joins). If your background is Veil Jumper, you get unique dialogue here with Bellara. She explains that everyone there is all trapped in a Veil Bubble, and there’s no way out once you pass through it. Despite the dire situation, she is bubbly, witty, and charming. She is spunky and effervescent

Companions are the faces of their factions, and in this case with Bellara, their entire area of the world. She is our window into Arlathan Forest. She is described as a sweetheart and a nerd for ancient elven artifacts, which is why she’s dressed more like an academic than a combatant. Her special arm gauntlet is useful both for tinkering with her environment and taking down enemies. While Neve uses ice magic and can slow time with a special ability, Bellara specializes in electricity, and she can also use magic to heal you. Her electric magic is effective against Sentinels. “However, without Bellara, we could also equip a rune that converts my ice magic, for a brief duration, into electricity to counter the Sentinels”

If you don’t direct your companions in combat, they are fully independent and will attack on their own

You progress at this point through the Forest, encountering more and more darkspawn. Bellara says that they have never been this far before because the underground Deep Roads, which they usually escape from, aren’t nearby. However, with “blighted” (BLIGHTED!) elven gods roaming the world, and thanks to the Blight’s radiation-like spread, it’s a much bigger threat in DA:TV than any prior DA game

The Forest has elven ruins, dense greenery and disgusting Blight tentacles and pustules

The style of the game is more high fantasy than anything in the series thus far and almost reminiscent of the whimsy of Fable. Matt Rhodes says that this is the result of the game’s newfound dose of magic: “The use of magic has been an evolution as the series has gone on. It’s something we’ve been planning for a while because Solas has been planning all this for a while. In the past, you could hint at cooler magical things in the corner because you couldn’t actually go there, but now we actually can, and it’s fun to showcase that.” The Forest’s whimsy will starkly contrast to the game’s other areas. The devs promise some grim locations and even grimmer story moments because, without that contrast, everything falls flat. Corinne says it’s like a “thread of optimism” pulled through otherworldly chaos ravaging Thedas. At this point in the game, Bellara’s personality is that thread

We can advance our bonds with our companions on their own personal quests and by including them in our party on main quests. Every Relationship Level you rank up, shown on their character sheet, nets you a skill point to spend on them. “The choices you make, what you say to companions, how you help them, and more all matter to their development as characters and party members”. Each companion has access to 5 abilities.

Each companion has issues, problems, and personal quests to complete. “Bellara has her own story arc that runs parallel to and informs the story path you’re on” (They’ve said that all of the companions have this too in previous promo material)

You progress deeper into the forest and Bellara spots a floating fortress and thinks that the artifact needed to destroy the Veil Bubble is in there. To reach it, we must remove the floating rock rings, and Bellara’s unique ability, Tinker, can do just that by interacting with a piece of ancient elven technology nearby. Rook can acquire abilities like Tinker later to complete such tasks in instances where Bellara, for example, isn’t in the party

Bellara has to activate three of these in the Forest to reach the castle. Each one you activate brings forth a bunch of Sentinels, demons, and darkspawn to defeat

You can create Arcane Bombs on enemies. It does high damage after being hit by a heavy attack

It sounds like mage characters can charge heavy attacks on their magical staffs. “then switch to magical daggers in a second loadout accessed with a quick tap of down on the d-pad to unleash some quick attacks”

Some enemies are “Frenzied”, meaning that they hit harder, move faster, and have more health

After a few more combat sections, including against a Frenzied sentinel, we reach the center of the temple. In there is an artifact called the Nadas Dirthalen. Bellara knows that this means “the inevitability of knowledge”. Before we can progress, a darkspawn ogre boss attacks, hitting hard with unblockable, red-coded attacks and a massive shield that you need to take down first. It is weak to fire

After defeating it (it’s a climactic arena fight), Bellara uses a special crystal to power the artifact and remove it from the pedestal, which destroys the Veil Bubble. Then, the Nadas Dirthalen comes alive as an Archive Spirit, but because the crystal used to power it breaks, we learn little about this spirit before it disappears. Bellara thinks that she can fix it (fixing broken stuff is her thing), so the group heads back to the Veil Jumper camp. The writer’s demo then ended.

The design of the game is not open world. The devs describe it as a “hub-and-spoke” design where the needs of the story are served by the level design. A version of DA:I’s Crossroads return (the network of teleporting eluvians) and this is how players will traverse across northern Thedas. “Instead of a connected open world, players will travel from eluvian to eluvian to different stretches of this part of the continent”. e.g. Minrathous, tropical beaches, Arlathan Forest, “to grim and gothic areas and elsewhere”. Some of these areas are large and full of secrets and treasures. Others are smaller and more focused on linear storytelling. Arlathan Forest is an example of this, but it still has optional paths and offshoots to explore for loot, healing potion refreshes, and other things.

Each location has a minimap, though linear levels like In Entropy’s Grasp won’t have the 'fog of war' that disappears as you explore like in some of the game’s bigger locations

The game has the largest number of diverse biomes in DA history

The Thedas of DA:TV “lives in the uncertainty”. “the mystery of its narrative”, “the implications of its lore”

The writer is surprised by BioWare’s command over the notoriously difficult Frostbite engine, and by how much narrative thought the dev team poured into these characters, even for BioWare.

---

[source: the Game Informer pages from Issue 367 - the cover story from June 18th (link), two]

[cherryheairt]

Dragon Dreamer pt. VII

tags: @beebeechaos @r-3dlips @emery-aka-emmy @watermel0nsugarhigh @delaynew @hueanhdang @thelastemzy @purple-1995 @pedro-pascal-love @littleblackcatinwonderland @fall-winter-heart97

cw: blood, death, violence, threats

The minutes passed excruciatingly slow on top of Morningstar. Seamus pressed tightly against her back still, as if he was afraid of the dragoness trying to throw him off. Daenys wouldn't put it past her, honestly. If it wasn't a risk to catch her, Morningstar would buck him off like an ornery stud.

Even with the wind blowing past her at such a high speed and the altitude of the flight, Daenys only felt a flaming heat. It burned through her veins like fire, unrelenting with its assault. She became dizzy with the overwhelming thoughts in her mind. She hadn't foresaw this to her conscious belief.

Daenys couldn't go back to the Red Keep. Not until Rhaenyra was on the Iron Throne and could protect her. She would be trapped in a snake pit with no way out except for death. She would rather die than return alone. Aegon was a drunken cunt who found enjoyment in tormenting others, found his nightly entertainment in fighting rings, and found his pleasure in the many whores of flea bottom.

Aemond was even worse. He had great skill and wit to aid him, but his madness made him the most dangerous of the two.

Otto and Alicent were compliant with the brothers now that they were reigning. Unstoppable, Daenys knew. The Queen Mother wouldn't do anything for the defense of her step-granddaughter, not in a thousand years. Otto might even suggest for Aemond to take her as a wife in a display of dominance over Rhaenyra's claim. Her eldest daughter, sister-in-law to the King.

The thought did not help her nausea. She couldn't go back.

A better fate would be to die at a formal execution. A statement to the Realm; not even the high-borns were safe from treason.

She would die there. Body or spirit, it did not matter. Daenys wished to die on her own terms, not to the whims of a whore and a madman.

Her own mortality haunted her. A princess, eldest daughter to the Queen, meant to have the blood of the dragon. Destined to die on her dragon, yet not be honored with 'a dragonrider's death'. There was no being shot down by a scorpion in a great battle for the history books. No dragon dance to perform in the skies with another beast. Only a man. A craven.

She would be alone, only with Morningstar. Like her ancestor Aerea, who mysteriously disappeared for an entire year with her dragon to Old Valyria, only to return and die without telling her story. Daenys would be remembered for her madness, not her sacrifice. A footnote, perhaps, in her mother's reign. No chapter would be dedicated to a girl who did nothing.

It wouldn't matter. Daenys wouldn't be alive to care about her legacy. She was born with her dragon. She would die with her, too. The thought comforted her more than anything else could. She was a proud dragonrider, and that's all that mattered in the end, perhaps.

Seamus squeezed her waist, knife at his thigh, almost poking into hers carelessly. Not that it would matter if it did, she could return to King's Landing with no limbs at all, and Seamus would still be rewarded. "Can't this beast fly any faster? I thought dragons were supposed to be Gods."

"She cannot fly against the winds so easily." Daenys told him, resisting the urge to tell him it was common sense. She should've fed him to Morningstar when he presented her with the wolf's head. She was naive to believe he was clueless instead of slighting her intentionally. What a coward. He couldn't even fight Cregan head-on, despite his age and experience difference. Proudly, Daenys knew that Cregan was a rare once-in-a-generation talent. As a Stark should be. He would be in the history books of great and important leaders throughout Westeros history. Perhaps most known for his protection of all that resided south of the Wall or his aid to the Queen during the war for the throne. The Wolf in the North.

Maybe her death would inspire Cregan to send more bannerman than he originally planned, out of pity for the Queen's loss. Though, she secretly hoped it might be to avenge his short-lived lady friend.

He scoffed, "what a joke."

"Do you wish to walk to the crownlands?" She bit, regretting it when he dug his blunt nails into her skin. She would be left with plenty of bruises littering her skin on the morrow.

"Watch your tongue girl, or I will remove it."

She nodded quickly, refraining from speaking any further. When had she grown so mouthy? Only days ago, she would've never imagined saying such things to a man who had a knife to her back, or anyone, for that matter.

Daenys grinded her teeth, looking ahead sharply. It was only clouds below, grey skies spanning for miles ahead. If Cregan was following on horseback, he would've long since lost sight of her. She prayed that he was, even if he could not do anything from such a distance. The thought comforted her.

Morningstar shrieked, the sound jarring even to Daenys' tuned ears. It was higher-pitched than usual, like she was calling out for another dragon. Or a person.

A thought formed in her head. Morningstar did not have to bite someone to kill them. She, like many of the other dragons, had one thing unique to her. Baelerion had his unmatched size. Meleys was the fastest of the living dragons, even with her large form. Caraxes had a long neck, resembling a bloodwyrm. Sunfyre had his renowned beauty. Syrax had a regal grace to her that no other dragon matched.

Morningstar released a blue fire from her chest, burning hotter than the orange and red fires of her kin. She seldom used it, other than to cook her food. It scorched everything it touched in less time than other dragonfire. Daenys bit her cheeks anxiously. She would not live to the sunrise.

She would not see the bruises form and eventually fade.

She would not see her dear brothers again, nor race in the skies with Vermax and Arrax.

She would not feel her mother's warm embrace.

She would not see Cregan's kind eyes again.

But it would be her choice. Her sacrifice. For once, Daenys would do something. Perhaps not heroic, like her fathers', or significant like her mother. She would prevent herself from being held hostage with her timely death. Daenys knew that if she were taken, put to the gallows publically, Rhaenyra would back down in order to save her only daughter. It was obvious what the smarter option was, objectively.

She swallowed down her nerves, coming to a solemn acceptance.

Sliding her hand up her bunched skirt, Daenys slid the dagger slowly down her leg, uncaring if she nicked her skin. She could only feel the cold pommel in her grip and the hot adrenaline in her blood. On one side, she clutched her dagger. On the other, she reached for Seamus' weaponed hand. She snatched his wrist in a chokingly tight hold, trying to force his hand to open and drop his dagger. He jerked in surprise, not expecting the underwhelming Princess to act out. In his sudden movement, the dagger grazed her neck, drawing an angry red line of blood from it. She gripped the wrist tighter, his body acting against him and opening his hand up to drop the dagger. It fell to the forest floor, long out of his reach. She whipped her other hand down on his, stabbing it straight through his hand and into the saddle.

Seamus screamed out in pain, howling curses at the girl. "Forget alive! The King will have you returned in bits and pieces!"

When he tightened his arm around her waist again, she pulled the dagger back to her chest, allowing his blood and twitching hand to smack her across the jaw wildly. She twisted and fought in his grip, hot blood smearing across her face and neck. Seamus' eye was squeezed shut painfully from a scratch she managed to give the eyeball directly; the sight pridefully reminded her of Aemond. They both heaved with effort, fighting each other and to stay on the saddle. Below, Morningstar fluttered her wings in a panic, hearing Daenys yelp into the cold air.

He reached for her dagger, grunting when she continued to slice at his exposed hand's flesh. They continued their struggles, both covered in blood now. Daenys turned at the waist, taking the flying fist at her eye with a crazed look in her violet eyes. She stabbed the dagger into his soft belly, satisfied at hearing him cry out. When he pushed her into the front of the saddle, hands trying to keep a grip at her neck, she cried out. At her struggles, he slammed her repeatedly into the hard material of the saddle by the tight grip of her scalp, leaving her breathless and light-headed. "Stay still, you little brat!" He growled into her ear.

"Dracarys!"

Morningstar repeated her cry, refusing the command fiercely. Seamus left the dagger in his stomach to keep himself from bleeding out, though he was tempted to in order to kill the Princess faster. He would have to be satisfied with feeling the breath leave her throat.

"Dra—arys, Morn—!" She yelled breathlessly, wheezing at the excertion. The pressure was too much, black spots filled her vision.

Finally, after much reluctance from the white beast, the skies erupted in a beautiful icy blue light. Daenys, still pinned to the front of the saddle, could only shield her face uselessly with a single arm. Seamus, enchanted with the sight, had sat up. Daenys grinned hauntingly, baring red teeth to no one. Blood smeared across her lips and face, giving her the appearance of the dead already. At least Morningstar would return to Cregan. He would not be left clueless.

Morningstar easily flew through the impossibly hot flames, her dragonscales keeping her unscorched. Seamus, however, was not so lucky. His pain-filled screams didn't last very long, the blue fire-lit man lighting up the clouds like a thunderstorm. Daenys, too, was covered in the dazzling light, but her throat made it impossible to scream.

Morningstar knew the fate of her rider, mournfully calling out for her one final time. She sung the song that Daenys was always happy to hear, sometimes singing back when they were alone. The dragoness did not waste time flying any further toward the crownlands, descending toward the snowy woods and to the nearest clear patch she spotted. The smell of burning flesh filled the area that she landed in, the sound of two bodies individually thumping to the melting ground. But Morningstar refused to look at the bodies, refused to have the sight of Daenys tainted with what she had done. Killing her own rider, a sacred bond broken. The dragon curled in on herself, waiting to join her rider in death. No matter how long that took.

🗡

Daemon ruled over Dragonstone's council in Rhaenyra's absence. Jacaerys and Daenys have both yet to return, not yet receiving the dreadful news. Rhaenyra had left on dragonback immediately after the raven came, searching for anything to let her see the truth of it for herself. Daemon mourned Lucerys, too, in his own quiet way. He had to be strong for his family, for the living.

He left the council in the afternoon, wandering the empty halls of Dragonstone. Missing three children from its vast halls, the castle was a shell of its former vibracity. Daemon passed Jace's chambers on his way to Joffreys room, then paused when he noticed Daenys' door ajar.

He remembered that it had been closed when she left. Daenys had always been particular about who went in her room, constantly reminding her younger brothers to knock before they entered. Carefully, he creeked the door open, hand resting on his sword.

No one was inside.

Only a few scattered books and pages on her desk that Daemon knew wasn't the work of his daughter. She was a tidy person, never a thing out of place in her quarters. It brought her peace within her little bubble. Perhaps Joff had gotten curious, rumaging through her 'girly' romance books, as the boys liked to tease her for reading.

He approached the desk, ready to organize the books and place them back onto her shelves. He noticed the scribbles on the pages, the first instinct he had to associate with them was Joffrey's childish writings, but upon closer inspection he saw that they were a repeat of the same words.

Dates were placed at the top of each page that he turned to. A personal journal, Daemon concluded. Curiosity got the better of him, sitting to read what the contents were. He wished he had put the book back when he delved into the rabbithole that was Daenys' mind.

Every day, for the last seven years, was dated throughout many journals. Some worn, some newer. She started to document her 'dreams' after Laenor's death. There was one most nights. Some mundane—forseeing what she would eat the next day. Others painful—like Daenys knowing that she would take a tumble from the steps of Dragonstone's cobble steps. Others, on a rarer occasion, prophesied important events in their family's life. Most of these dreams were documented in an obsessive way. Sentences were written down hundreds of times, no doubt mindlessly by Daenys, who was still deep into her vision.

She foresaw Viserys' death, Aegon's usurping, Meleys killing hundreds of smallfolk in the dragonpit, Rhaenyra losing Visenya to stillbirth. Why hadn't she ever said anything, before hand? The dreams are always dated either the night before they happened or merely a few days later. Daemon flipped furiously through the journals, looking for answers.

Daenys kept returning to one dream. One, that wasn't foretold. Laenor's death by fire. She had never trusted her mind to tell her the truth after it had not warned her about her own father's demise. She cursed the Gods boldly in writing and cursed herself for letting her father's life slip out of her grasp.

She did not know a truth from a lie, though all those that haunted her after were true. Still, she did not confess them to Rhaenyra or Daemon in fear that she would be wrong. One wrong warning and disaster might strike from ill preperations. Daemon rested his head in his hands, rubbing at his temple stressfully. It was Rhaenyra who went through her journals, too. She must have searched through every word of them for a glimpse at Lucerys' fate but found nothing like Daemon had. Daenys left Dragonstone before she could foresee his death. Daemon couldn't find it in himself to be cross with his daughter. It was his fault she never confessed her visions anymore. He had plotted with Rhaenyra to fake Laenor's death, keeping it a secret to all in the realm except for themselves, even Laenor's children.

Could this have been prevented? All of this, the war, the usurping, Luke's death. If only Rhaenyra and Daemon had confessed their sins.

🗡

It was hours that Cregan spent on horseback, looking between the trees and the skies in hopes of spotting the white dragon. Dusk had gone ahead, running at a pace that a horse could not keep up with for nearly as long. He was forced to walk most of the time, lest he killed Red by exhausting the poor horse. Every second that passed by was torture. His mind never let him forget the terrified look in Daenys' eyes.

He let her slip away again. This time, due to his own stubbornness. He distanced himself from the Princess, a hundred reasons why nagging in his brain. But none of them mattered now, when he had allowed her to go off on her own. He knew she was upset. He knew that she was leaving the campsite because of the unbearable silence.

Cregan knew, and still let her out of his sight. He failed again after promising that he would protect her. Those sad violet eyes, which had looked at him with all the trust in the world, were out of his reach.

Taken hostage on her own dragon, being used for Knott's selfish desires. Cregan knew he would be a man damned to eternal suffering if he believed in the New Gods. For the first time in his life, he regretted not following them. His only punishment would be his own guilt, which would eat away at him for the rest of his mortal life.

Cregan straightened in his seat when Dusk came sprinting to Red's heels, barking urgently. Cregan signaled for the direwolf to go on again, commanding Red to gallop in a chase. What had he found? Cregan hadn't seen or heard Morningstar since they had left, only instinctively going straight South like he knew Daenys woukd guide Morningstar. Dusk must have heard something that his owner could not.

The direwolf held himself back in terms of speed, staying at a pace that Cregan could keep in his sights at all times. It was not another half hour before Cregan spotted Morningstar curled up in a clearing. Dead? No, that was impossible. There were no threats to the dragon so far North.

Cregan slowed Red to a hault, jumping from the mount with a frantic resolve similar to his wolf's. His whole body was tense at the sight of Morningstar alone. If Seamus had forced Daenys to land and took her somewhere on foot, the dragon would be at the treeline, tearing out trees one by one to get to Daenys.

Where was she?

He almost didn't want to know.

Cregan approached Morningstar slowly, holding his hand out and brushing against the dragon. No response. No growl, no purr, no lifting her head to see who had approached her. He would assume the dragon was dead where she laid if he did not watch her middle slowly move up and down, as if she were only in a deep sleep. "Morningstar," Cregan murmured, coaxing the dragon to wake up.

Only the winds of the North filled his ears as they rustled through the trees. Dusk's growl perked his ears as he focused on the dragon, futility attempting to make her wake.

"What is it, boy?" Cregan asked from the other side of Morningstar. He walked around to where Dusk's call came from, freezing upon the sight. A large, extremely burn body lay dead on the floor next to the dragoness' wing. It was pure black, no sign of any distinguishing features that once dorned the body. To Cregan's relief, it was the size of an adult male. Seamus was dead.

But where was Daenys? And what happened to make Morningstar not be pleased at her work?

Dusk nudged at someone stuck under the body, whining and sniffing at it loudly. Cregan dragged Seamus' corspe away from it, tossing it aside with a disgusted sneer. Serves the bastard right.

It was Daenys, bare as the day she was born. Curled up instinctively to protect her own body heat, though the fire from Seamus seemed to have done that well enough. How was she alive? Unburnt, unharmed? She looked serene, peaceful, as if she were simply taking a nap in the forest with Morningstar. Cregan stiffended, realizing the situation. He swiftly covered the girl with his cloak, taking her into his arms like one might a wet and shivering kitten. Her skin burned to touch, almost making Cregan drop her: but he persisted through the burn.

Cregan considered himself an avid learner of the histories. It was his duty as a Lord and The Warden of the North to know everything about the Seven Kingdoms and all their houses. That included the Targaryens'. Never once, in any of the expensive texts he can arduously labored over in the late nights after his father died when he was only three and ten, was a fire-proof man or woman every mentioned. A secret, mayhaps, hidden by the Targaryens to not give away their strategies.

It was hard to say. When she woke, Cregan would simply have to ask her himself. For now, though, all that mattered was that the sweet girl was alive and in his arms again. As it should be.

Cregan lifted his head from looking at Daenys' worry-less face. When she was awake, she always had some underlying fear hidden behind all her other emotions. It dominated her, consumed her. Cregan saw it even when she was laughing, when she was safe. He wished to make it go away, to chase off what haunted her soul. But even the strong Lord could not fight internal battles for someone else. He could only hope that she gained enough strength of her own to save herself.

Like tonight. Daenys saved herself from her kidnapper. Cregan would soon figure out how she did it and how she survived it. He had a dark feeling that he would not like the answer.

He brought Daenys to Morningstar's eyeline. Shut, like her rider's, Morningstar looked a mirror image of Daenys. They both looked so much more at peace when not plagued by their thoughts.

"Here, girl..." Cregan murmured, lifting Daenys for Morningstar to notice. The dragon lifted its eyelid slightly, the scent of Daenys filling her nostrils. Immediately, the dragoness' violet eye widened and she jerked up. Delight washed over her features, as much expression as a dragon could have. Morningstar rosed to her wings and hind legs, sniffing at Daenys as if this were only a deceitful dream. Cregan grinned at the sight of the beast being active once more, assuming she had become despondent due to her rider being injured or presumed dead.

He shared in her relief and delight both.

After allowing her to reunite with the Princess, Cregan mounted Red carefully, placing the woman in front of him, facing him to lean on him in her sleep. The cloak still covered her, leaving a slight chill over the Lord's back and shoulders. It did not matter, as long as she was safe. The whole ride, taking well into the sunlight, was spent with one arm clutching the reigns and the other firmly across her waist to keep her safe and close. He rested his chin on her shoulder, breathing in her smokey scent, content to be in her presence again. Even a minute without her felt like torture, not knowing how she wad faring all alone in a perilous situation.

Finally, once they reached the campsite again, Morningstar flying far ahead to it and waiting, Cregan placed her into his tent and bundled the Princess up in more furs. He did not wish to dress her, so it would have to do. He didn't sleep, watching over her and the campsite as he waited for the Princess to awaken.

It took nearly a full day for that to happen. Cregan grew more worried with every passing hour. Night had come, making it almost twenty-four hours since Daenys had been taken on dragonback by Seamus Knott. He stared at her intensely, watching every breath she took and every twitch mistaken for her waking up. He began to wonder if he should turn back to Winterfell, or even continue foward to the closest house, coincidentally Knott. He would be reluctant to take her to the very house where the vile man who hurt her was breed in, but a maester was a maester.

Daenys woke with a pained gasp. Cregan nearly jumped with her, stunned at the movement. "Cregan..." She called for him before she opened eyes. When she did, eyes bleary from her long sleep and likely more unpleasant dreams, Daenys teared up at the sight of the man sitting in front of her.

He was quick to wipe away falling tears, ungloved hands gently caressing her soft skin. "You're safe, my girl. He is dead. He can not hurt you again." He promised her, brows turned up in sympathy for the distressed Princess.

"I know he is dead. I killed him." Daenys sobbed into his warm touch, clutching onto his wrists like a lifeline. "I didn't—I wasn't even sorry for it, when it happened. I was glad that he would die, to hear his pained screams."

Cregan brought her to his chest, wrapping her safely in his embrace. "You cannot blame yourself for what you felt. You are not a bad person for it. Men kill all the time for selfish reasons. You killed to save yourself. It is okay."

"It does, Cregan. It does." She insisted, shaking her head vehemently as she gripped his tunic.

Cregan felt unsure of how to comfort her. He was never the best with words. He killed his first man because of his duty as Lord and Warden. Executing a deserter of The Wall for his crimes and disloyalty. He felt no guilt because he knew it had to be done. Such was the way of his station and the Old Way.

He could only hold her, stroking her hair while she cried. They stayed like that for as long as it took for Daenys to calm. Even after she quieted down, they stayed in one another's arms for the familiar feeling of bittersweet solace.

"I knew you would come for me. Thank you, Cregan." Daenys spoke up hoarsely. Cregan looked down at her, placing a strand of hair behind her ear and ignoring the spots of blood on her face.

"I would've ridden all the way to King's Landing to find you."

She truly believed him.

"I should've headed your advice, then." When he gave her a confused look, she continued. "When you wanted him gone. You didn't trust him from the start, I was naive to believe a kinslayer could ever have honest intentions."

"You wanted to see the good in him, even after I told you his crimes. That is not a sin, Princess. If you only ever saw the bad in your subjects, you would never trust again. You were fair in giving him a chance." Cregan mused, resisting the urge to rest his chin on her head. This position was too familiar for a Princess and a Lord—especially when both were unwed. They ignored that fact multiple times throughout his journey.

Was Cregan a fool for not caring? A better man would've surely escorted her back to Winterfell days ago when the wolf attacked her. The North was no place for a princess. He was a selfish man.

He was not before he met Daenys.

At the very least, he hoped that she did not think him bawdy or vulger for being so close to her. He had never known himself to be a slave to his baser desires, never visiting brothals at every want and whim or taking a mistress before he was wed. No, he was not like most men in that regard.

But oh, how he yearned for her. To simply be in her presence was a blessing from the Old Gods. To hear her brilliant laughter or speak her mother tongue so gently with her dragon. Every little expression she allowed him to bear witness to; joy, sorrow, fear, regret. He wanted it all, forever. Wanted Daenys to be kept safe in Winterfell with him, at least then he could always know she was sound.

She had grown so much in her little time with him. So shy and guilt-ridden to even be stepping foot in his home, though it was well within her rights as a Princess to do as she pleased. She remained gentle although she witnessed the brutal killing of a predator who nearly took her life—killed a different kind of predator herself. The little rabbits and the wolf were given kind words and careful handling even after they felt no pain. The titleness man being mourned and cried for even after he had attempted to use her for his own grab at power.

Cregan wished to covet all of her purity and goodness for himself. To keep her away from all things tainted lest they successfully drag her into their clutches. In Winterfell, she would be safe to flourish. Like a rare winter rose, which could only grow and bloom in specific conditions, Daenys could not do so in King's Landing–or even Dragonstone.

He decided then that he would make the offer to Queen Rhaenyra. His council had advised him of such things when Aegon first usurped the Iron Throne, telling their Lord that the Queen would ask for men, and it would be wise to ask for something in return.

If that made him a selfish man, then so be it.

🗡

Daenys wished she didn't wake up from her tumble off of Morningstar. It would be easier if she burned alongside Seamus. From the moment she gained consciousness, memories and guilt flooded her senses. She killed a man without remorse. For her own defense, Cregan had valiantly reminded her, but that didn't do anything to sooth the bile in the back of her throat.

She was a foolish, spoilt, and naive girl for trusting such a man. She would not make that mistake again. Daenys was glad to see the winter Lord, as well as Dusk and Morningstar, but all that did little to lift her mood. The night passed slowly with Daenys staring at the tent's roof, counting the passing seconds until Cregan woke and they would start their journey once more. She glanced at him, admiring his sharp features in the little light provided by the moon. She was vaguely aware of her state under the furs, and even more aware of how he had seen her before he wrapped them around her. For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to care for her modesty.

A nagging question burned in her mind.

Why hadn't she caught fire like Seamus did? Her kin had never recorded such an event in their histories, nor had she dreamt of such things happening to herself nor other people. Laena Velayron was burned to death by her dragon, Vhagar. So clearly, the bond was not what saved her. Daenys wished to test herself once more against fire, but feared that she would not be so lucky a second time. There was no way to know her true condition for certain until she returned to Dragonstone. In the castle, all Valyrion texts were kept and passed down the generations straight from Lord Aenar Targaryen.

Beside her, Cregan stirred. He was closer tonight than he had been previous nights. Much closer, in fact. Their breaths mingled warmly when she faced him, and his arm lay outstretched slightly towards her own. She was exceedingly grateful to the man for all he had done for her over their time together. Patient with her trances, teaching her to hunt and defend herself, comforting her in her dark thoughts. Slowly, Daenys interlocked her fingers with his, squeezing once. She shifted to her side, planting herself close to his body heat and comforting scent. She slept beside him for the remaining hours of the night.

🗡

get yourself a ride or die (literally) like Morningstar, who was determined to let herself starve to death because she couldn't live without her best friend.

i hope cregan's little monologe didn't sound dark or controlling, he truly does love her and wants her safe, knows the south lands would not be good for her because they never have been.

how does one write in a man's pov? I will never know. I feel like I always made them too dark or cold. anyway, I hope yall enjoyed the chapter 🩷 feedback appreciated

[misguidedasgardian]

The Hour of the Wolf (10)

X. Lurking Shadows

MASTERLIST

Summary: Keep your friends and your husband close… and your enemies? Well…

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, pregnancy!, fear of childbirth, discussing death in childbirth and all that comes with it, unrealistic birthing scenes, (I mean, what would I know really?) 

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3,4 k 

Notes: Sorry for the delay, I think I lost my connection to this story. I know some of you didn’t like where this was going, the reader being so “defenseless” without Cregan, I had to re-read the whole thing to truly return to it.

Summary: Keep your friends and your husband close… and your enemies? Well…

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, pregnancy!, fear of childbirth, discussing death in childbirth and all that comes with it, unrealistic birthing scenes, (I mean, what would I know really?) 

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: X k 

Notes: Sorry for the delay, I think I lost my connection to this story. I know some of you didn’t like where this was going, the reader being so “defenseless” without Cregan, I had to re-read the whole thing to truly return to it.

After that horrid and terribly realistic nightmare, you never saw your uncle again, neither in the realms of dreams nor the realms of men, so that was a relief

But how could you see him? He was dead, he couldn’t hurt you anymore…

It took you a while to fully comprehend that, the next nights were tormentous, but then, something happened that brought you back to reality…

Your baby started kicking

You smiled as you felt the little kicks inside of you and touched your belly, that certainly grounded you, it made you come back to reality as of sorts, and it made you more focused, you attended every meeting, you held audiences, and you even appeared more in front of the people of King’s Landing, that gathered every afternoon chanting for you.

You were blooming, and even though you had relayed in Cregan a lot, you were beginning to settle in your post, without a hand.

But you missed him, terribly, specially at night 

days turned quickly into weeks, and then into months, and soon you could barely move, you grew tired quickly, you devoured everything you could during meals, and your babe moved tirelessly inside of you, specially at night

It had moved so much last night, that today at the small council meeting, you were fighting to not fell asleep

You couldn’t help it, you closed your eyes for barely a second, and you managed to open your eyes again, your lords were looking at you with kind eyes and soft smiles

“I’m so very sorry”, you muttered, rubbing your belly, trying to accommodate in the uncomfortable wooden chair

“You have nothing to be sorry for, our gracious lady”, muttered Lord Lannister, “perhaps we should move the meeting”

“No! no”, you insisted, “please continue”

“A new prince or princess to the seven Kingdoms, heir to the Iron Throne will be born soon, is a matter of great celebrations, a ray of hope, an unmistakable sign that the war is over and new times are coming, a new era of dragons, we should celebrate”, Lord Redwyne was a great narrator

“I agree”, said lord Celtigar, “the people need new things to look forwards to, I can see it from reports all over the Kingdoms, everyone should know”

Celebrate an heir you still didn’t have in our arms, gods, it was almost too similar of the story of Queen Aemma, your grandmother, as was told by your mother

“He or she isn’t born yet”, you said softly, and you had come to terms with the fact that there is a big chance you would perish in childbirth, but you were hopeful

“We are aware your grace”, muttered Lord Lannister, “but… as Lord Celtigar said… the people need a reason to celebrate”

“That might be true but, what if we do it after? after the birth, we should send word all over the Kingdoms, and then… when we have her or him in our arms, then we celebrate”, your lords seemed to realize what you were implying, and they of course nodded understandably

“Have we received word from our Lord Cregan?”, asked the maester

“Only his weekly reports of advances in the restoration of the North”, said quickly Lord Celtigar, who was indeed seating in your right as he was the hand

“The one who keeps demanding an audience is still… Lord Corlys”, you looked away, not wanting to face the man, perhaps you were being childish, but… you could not face the man that was supposed to be your grandfather by name 

“I don’t want to see him”, you said shortly

“Very well”, muttered Lord Redwyne, “He has send his bastard son Adam, to the capital, to seek an audience”

“I’m sure he doesn’t actually need anything”, muttered Lord Celtigar, “he is looking for a way in”

“Perhaps a meeting with our own master of coin would ease him enough to stop bothering us?”, you tried

“That will do your grace”, muttered Lord Redwyne

“Any other news of importance?”, you asked after a long sigh, rubbing your belly, your back had started to hurt

“We have completely lost contact with the Citadel, and oldtown”, confessed the Maester, everyone looked at him, concerned

“Explain”, you demanded 

“The situation was delicate after the end of the war, I have trusted brothers with which I exchange letters and they have all stopped”, that did truly concerned you

“What about the Hightowers?”, you asked then

“The last report is that they received tons of grains from the Tyrells and then they… stopped sending reports as well”. You took a long breath

“Should we… send someone to Oldtown?”, you suggested

“That would be best”

“Escorted by an army and a dragon?”, you continued, the lords were nervous and they exchanged looks between them

“Your Grace has a point, to send only lords would be a mistake”

“We cannot jump to arms against Oldtown for no apparent reason”

“Keep trying to contact your people, anyone, inside Old Town, if in a moon we don’t get any more news, we will gather a small force, and choose an envoy”, you commanded, and they all nodded 

Finally they released you as the sun was setting, and you thought about taking a nap, but if you did, then you were not going to be able to sleep at night, so you decided to go to the gardens to enjoy the sunset 

You liked to think you didn’t need a master of whispers, that you knew fairly well what was happening in your Kingdoms, but apparently… not…

He came unannounced, one second you were watching a beautiful winter rose bush, and the other, a presence came rushing to you unannounced, you raised your eyes and you thought you were dreaming

Cregan, you gasped with a wide smile, but it wiped quickly when you saw his scowl

“I thought you were happy with me, with our marriage”, you frowned as you looked at him, this is the first words to you for months?, “I thought this is what you wanted”

“It is! I am happy!”, you said quickly

“You must despise it, despise me, if you kept this from me so…”, you took a step towards him and around the bush, he got quiet when he saw you, the roses were hiding your round form but now he looked at you with wide eyes and open mouth

You looked so, so beautiful, in his mind, he had never seen anyone so breathtaking as you

He quieted himself and jumped to grab you in his arms and kissed you hungrily, all his anger slipped away from his mind and from yours and he wrapped his strong arms around you and held you lovingly and tightly

“I fucking missed you, you resentful little creature”, he growled, against our lips, right before he nibbles on your lower lip making you whimper

“I missed you”, you whispered, kissing him back, “So much”, you promised, gasping desperately against his lips, against the short beard he was growing.

There was no more time for anything else… 

. . .

Soon he had you naked in your rooms, resting on his chest after he actually proved to you how much he had missed you, and grabbing you so tightly as a way of a small punishment

“how did you manage to come without being announced?”, you asked, hugging him tightly

“I have my ways”, he muttered back, “but I really need to know”, he said, his voice choking with worry, “why?”, he asked, still caressing you, “I’ve been going over it over and over and many answers come to mind, none of them pleasant”, he needed an explanation of why you kept this from him, and you understood that

“I wrote you a letter”, you defended yourself, he signed, “You didn’t receive it?”

“I did not”, he muttered

“It was moons ago, explaining why I didn’t tell you, told you I missed you and asking you to return, then I received a letter from you asking me to go up there, and I couldn’t, I didn’t want to chance it”, you whispered, he caressed your belly tenderly, and it felt as good as you imagined it, his big warm hand, your babe kick inside your womb, making Cregan chuckle

“Have you been able to sleep?”

“Not when I eat strawberry tarts after the tea hour, then… it moves a lot”, you answered, Cregan laughed softly

“Well, you are carrying a wolf pup in there”, he teased

“Or a dragonling”, you answered back.

“oh gods, how could you let me leave you like this”, he said, he truly, truly felt bad

“When you got sick, and were about to die”, you confessed, “you whispered your son’s name in your fever induced dream, and I realized that if you were truly going to die, you were never going to see your son again, if you knew I was pregnant, you wouldn’t have gone North for another year or so, and your people needed you”.

He thought about it for long minutes, thinking about everything you had told him. And he sighed

You were right

“But what if something… had happened to you?”, he asked then

“I devised a plan, and I made everyone swear on it”, you confessed

“Which was?”, he asked

“If I perished in the birthing bed… My brother was to be crowned King, with the same council, and four regents to rule in his name until he became of age… Jeyne Arryn of the east, you, from the North, Lannister from the West, and a Tyrell from the South”, he nodded, “if our child had survived me, regardless, I asked them to give him to you, with a dragon egg…”, you told him, he was resigning her own children’s crown only for him to go back home where he wanted to be

“Well, it was a good plan”, he whispered. But he felt chills at the very thought of raising a little dragon without her beautiful dragon Queen by his side. Without even realizing he held you more tightly against him.

“But we will not come to that”, he said severely, “but I will go with it, if anything happens”

“Alright”, you whispered, “good to know”

But he was back now, no harm was going to come to you as he remembered the tumultuous this last weeks had been for him…

It took him weeks, a whole moon, maybe two, to get back to King’s Landing, more than he ever thought possible, he had to move a big group of people and as such, it required time… You could have given birth by now.

He thought about it again and again, to where it might have gone wrong.

Well, he now knew the reason why you couldn’t travel up North to meet him, because you were pregnant, he really appreciated you were being careful, and if the reports from the small council had any truth to them, you were doing great in the command of the Kingdoms, without a hand to help you.

You were truly magnificent 

You had managed to send compensations and start reparations for everything that needed repairs after the war, even though some town were ages away from truly recovering, you had even started talks with Dorne

It was a new age, and you were shining like the fire your family incarnated 

He was truly proud

And as Cregan was in the White Harbor, trying to sail south despite the weather, he had to prepare his son and leave him to travel behind with a stronghold of his house to come with im, including maesters and cooks, anyhow, he rode his steed from Winterfell to the White Harbour, he was so desperate he made the trip in half the time it took him last time, and then he sailed on a small, faster ship, back to the capital, he wasn’t even announced, he traveled almost in hiding, hoping nothing bad was going to happen, and it didn’t

That is why he could travel so fast, like no man has ever done before.

In a moon, his son and a small army was going to reach King’s landing, but the important part is that he made it… you were still pregnant, and he could accompany you through the birth, and… he was going to be here, to be with you 

“Please don’t ever keep something like this again, I thought we were trough that”, he reprimanded, and you nodded

“Yes husband”

You promised, inside this room or when it was just the two of you, you were his wife, not his Queen, and… it was hard to balance both, but he was patient, and you were smart.

In the next day Cregan would spend his days trying to get ahold of the current situation in the Kingdoms, and he felt somewhat unneeded, you were doing great without him, but he was happy to be back to take over so you could rest, as he had been told that you were falling asleep sometimes.

He was very concerned about the situation in Old Town, truly concerned, that was dangerous, but at the same time, he didn’t want to risk anyone from the small council, good thing though they had the Lannisters on their side this time

“We should call in the Tyrells”, you muttered as you ate a strawberry miniature pie, “make sure their alliances are still with us”

“Good plan”, he said over breakfast, “that way they will know they are alienated”

You had a bad feeling over the Hightower situation, it made you truly nervous. Summing up to the fact that Cregan wouldn’t leave your side.

It's like he didn’t trust you anymore, he was looming over you, watching you closely. Whenever you had an audience or a meeting he was right beside you 

You had grown impossible bigger, you could barely move, you had to call in your maids and ladies in waiting again, for you couldn’t even put on shoes without assistance.

Your only consolation is that your baby was kicking wildly every morning, and according to the maesters, she or he was healthy and ready to come out at any moment. 

You had also seen them very nervous, consulting with the stars and other methods to calm the small council about your own wellbeing, nobody said it outloud, but you could see the worry in their faces

Also according to the maesters, it was a 50/50 chance that you’ll perish, taking into account your family’s history, but they were hopeful, because you, as Queen, as access to the best maesters, and as it was more at stake, they were going to take great care of you.

Besides, your mother had given birth to 5 healthy boys, and you, and survived seven pregnancies. 

But her mother didn’t

You tried not to think about it

The small council, despise it all, were hopeful and had huge celebrations planned for the arrival of the future Prince or Princess

You were concerned about the future, of you, and of your child, but that was reduced to nothing as suddenly, when you were getting dressed, you felt like a fountain inside of you collapsed, and you released a large amount of water

“The babe!”, cried your lady in waiting, “fetch the maester and the midwives!”, she commanded quickly

Cregan had left early to go on a mission deep in the city, and he wasn’t in the castle when the midwives came to you, changed your clothes to a simple nightdress, and laid you there in your own bed.

You started crying out in pain as the contractions began, and according to the midwife, it could take all day, the process was long

“Mmmmm”, you moaned in pain, “I need to be on my feet”

“My Queen!”, you wouldn’t take no for an answer, they help you up and you walked around the room, rubbing your back with one hand and your belly with the other 

You needed to obey what your body needed, and you felt relieved as you walked around, taking deep breaths

“You are doing great, your Grace”, they encouraged, the sweet ladies. 

Another construction swept over you

“Notify the small council, and please try to find my husband”, you begged them, and they nodded and one of them ran to fulfill your command 

But your sweet and calm disposition didn’t last long

“THAT FUCKING CUNT!”, you screamed, hours later, laying on your bed, legs spread wide open, “I fucking hate him for doing this to me”, the oldest of the midwives just smiled, having flashbacks of Rhaenyra when she gave birth herself 

“Not long now, sweet Queen”

The small council was gathered, nervously waiting for news of you, they had servants all placed from the small council chambers to your rooms, so they could know what was happening.

“I had commanded the high Septon to keep our Queen in his prayers for the last week”, muttered lord Redwyne, who was very devout, but, it was not of great comfort to the remaining men in the room

“She will survive this”, asserted Lord Celtigar

“The maesters and midwives agree that it was a easy pregnancy”, affirmed the Grand Maester

They didn’t know what else to talk about

“Where is Lord Cregan?”

“He reached the Queen’s chambers”, said the Lord Commander, entering the room

“Good”

You felt so relieved when you saw Cregan entering your chambers, kneeling by your side

“Your Grace, is not customary for the King to be present during the Birth”, muttered the lead Midwife

“i don’t care”, he leaned in, kissing your sweaty forehead

“Are you alright my love?”, you barely nodded, grabbing onto him and the bedsheet, preparing for the next contraction that made your whole body tremble

“They are more close to each other, I think it's time”

“It hurts so much”, you cried, the grand maester showed up then, and made you drink the last of milk of the poppy that was allowed for pregnant women 

Cregan looked at the scene concerned, there was no blood yet, and it had been barely a couple of hours so, he was optimistic, you were in good health, and he was there by your side, it had to be alright, it had to.

“Alright, when the next contraction comes, your grace will start pushing, alright?”, you barely nodded, grabbing onto Cregan so tightly he was afraid you’d snap his hand, turning his bones into dust

And it washed over you, more intense and painful than the ones before, with a scream, you did exactly that.

You had never done it before, but it felt like your body knew exactly what to do 

But you have never been in so much pain in your entire life

Never

“Again”, demanded the Midwife, and you were really losing it in the pain

“There's blood”, muttered Cregan, truly concern

“That is normal your grace”, the pain never left you now, it took ahold of you and wouldn’t let go

You started crying, you were in so much pain you feared that there was never going to be relief again.

“Don’t cry my love, you are doing great”, he whispered against your temple

“I’m scared!”, you cried

“Again your grace please, I can see the head”, encouraged the youngest and sweeter of the midwives

“Arrrggghhhhhh!”, you screamed at the top of your lungs

. . .

Fast steps could be heard against the stone walls of the Keep, resounding in the empty corridors

The sun was hiding in the horizon when a young boy interrupted in the small council chamber, where the men inside jumped at the intrusion

“What has happened?”, demanded Lord Lannister

“The Queen!”, he said hastily, there were the longest seconds as he regained his breath

“Well? SPEAK BOY!”, demanded Lord Redwyne, he took a long breath and then he finally managed to spoke

“She is well, and we have a Prince! my lords! a boy!”

They all jumped from their seats and hugged one another

“A prince! send the ravens to every corner of the Kingdoms!”

“Long live our Queen!”

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[amber-laughs]

“They’re dogs and he’s a wolf,” said Jon. “They know he’s not their kind.”

Lord Ramsay laughed. "You're not a man, Reek. You're just my creature. You'll have your wine, though. Walder, see to it. And fear not, I won't return you to the dungeons, you have my word as a Bolton. We'll make a dog of you instead. Meat every day, and I'll even leave you teeth enough to eat it. A Dance with Dragons - Reek II

"I see what you are, Snow. Half a wolf and half a wildling, baseborn get of a traitor and a whore. You would deliver a highborn maid to the bed of some stinking savage. Did you sample her yourself first? A Dance with Dragons - Jon X

When Little Walder pulled him up and Big Walder waved the torch at him to herd him from the cell, he went along as docile as a dog. If he'd had a tail, he would have tucked it down between his legs. A Dance with Dragons - Reek I

"Aye. All that, and more. You are a warg too, they say, a skinchanger who walks at night as a wolf." King Stannis had a hard smile. "How much of it is true?" A Storm of Swords - Jon XI

That night, besides the collar, there was a ragged blanket too, and half a chicken. Reek had to fight the dogs for the meat, but it was the best meal he'd had since Winterfell. A Dance with Dragons - Reek II

 The smells are stronger in my wolf dreams, he reflected, and food tastes richer too. Ghost is more alive than I am. He left the empty cup upon the forge. A Dance with Dragons - Jon II

The other man had been a good rider, but Reek was uneasy on horseback. It had been so long. He was no rider. He was not even a man. He was Lord Ramsay's creature, lower than a dog, a worm in human skin. A Dance with Dragons - Reek II

“The Weeper’s red rheumy eyes gave Jon another look. “Aye? Well, he has a wolfish cast to him, now as I look close.” A Storm of Swords - Jon I

"Reek," he said. "Your Reek." "Do this little thing for me, and you can be my dog and eat meat every day," Lord Ramsay promised.  A Dance with Dragons - Reek II

The taste of hot blood filled Jon's mouth, and he knew that Ghost had killed that night. No, he thought. I am a man, not a wolf. He rubbed his mouth with the back of a gloved hand and spat. A Dance with Dragons - Jon II

Damon Dance-for-Me sat greasing up his whip. "Reek," he called. He tapped the whip against his calf as a man might do to summon his dog. "You are starting to stink again, Reek." A Dance with Dragons - A Ghost in Winterfell

"The beast," he gasped. "Look! The beast that tore the life from Halfhand. A warg walks among us, brothers. A WARG! This . . . this creature is not fit to lead us! This beastling is not fit to live!" A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

"You would have done better to slit his throat," said the lord in mail. "A dog who turns against his master is fit for naught but skinning." "Oh, he's been skinned, here and there," said Ramsay. A Dance with Dragons - Reek I

[fairysluna]

what should've been.

Aegon has always been in love with his loyal childhood companion, so when King Viserys proposed a betrothal between them, he's absolutely blissful with the idea, although his happiness wouldn't last long.

MASTERLIST | Epilogue

PAIRING — Aegon II Targaryen x Arryn!Reader.

TAGS/TW — friends to lovers, fluff, angst, death by illness, grief, cursing, teenage!aegon at the beginning, mentions of infertility, 'i hate everyone but you' trope.

AUTHOR'S NOTE — (2nd repost) small context, Aegon was named heir and reader is daughter of Lord Arryn who in this story is Maester of Law in the Small Council. this was a request, and ngl i loved this even tho it broke my heart... pls enjoy!!🤍

WORD COUNT — 7.6k

FEEDBACK, SHARES AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!!

Aegon's head was on her lap. 

The girl was leaning back on the Weirwood tree while Aegon was listening to her reading. The book on her hand was about the Andals, and she looked genuinely interested in the lecture while Aegon couldn’t help but to follow the movement her lips did with every word she pronounced. It was hypnotizing, as if they were begging to be kissed by him.

While one of her hands was holding the old book, the other one was on his hair, stroking the strands of it with such delicacy and care that Aegon would have fallen asleep right there, but he forced his eyes to be open only to stare at her, and the flower that he had left in her hair a few minutes ago.

"... The Vale of Arryn is where is located the purest Andals' blood as it was the first place they reach in their arrival to Westeros, and where their invasion started-" 

"So you are a pureblood then?" Aegon asked, teasingly interrupting her lecture. "I'm a pureblood too."

"Pureblood?" She repeated, closing the book and leaving it on the side. "What are you, a wolf?"

"I'm a dragon, love." He sat up and leaned forward, getting closer to her face. “The blood of Old Valyria runs in my veins, and the blood of the Andals runs in yours, perhaps we should mix them and make beautiful pureblood children." He teased her, moving his eyebrows up and down in a suggestive manner.

Lady Arryn laughed loudly at his antics, pushing him away by putting her hand against his chest. Aegon just smiled at her reaction, being mesmerized by the sound of her laughter. Her cheeks soon started blushing thanks to his shameless comment and he enjoyed the view, loving how she would get flustered whenever he said those kinds of things. 

“I thought you did not wish for children.” She remembered him. 

“Oh, I definitely don’t.” He shook his head, “But perhaps the process of making them would allow us to have some fun.”

The girl slapped the Prince’s arm, and he dropped his mouth, offended by the gesture. 

“Aegon!” She scolded him.

“You just slapped the arm of the heir!” He jokingly said, “I can cut your hands for it.”

"Why would you say such a foolish thing?" She spoke between chuckles. 

"It's not a 'foolish thing', it's a proposal." He clarified, "You will be my wife someday, I’m telling you."

"You're too confident." She claimed, "Due to your queer family customs, you will probably get married to Helaena."

His smile vanished almost immediately. His horror face was such a sight; his eyes widened and his eyebrows frowned exaggeratedly while his upper lip curled up. It was a hilarious scene that had the Lady chuckling quietly.

"Don't speak too loud, the Gods might hear you." He warned. "You are giving them ideas to punish me."

"You should stop giving them reasons to punish you." 

"I don't do that!" He said offended. The girl stared at him with a serious semblance. Aegon smirked, "What? Does loving you so deeply be considered a sin?" 

He leaned forward once again, this time he managed to kiss her cheek. The girl looked down, trying to hide her embarrassed face. No matter how many times Aegon would make those comments towards her, no matter how many times he would kiss her not-so-far from her lips; she just could not stop reacting that way. It is as if her body was trying to publicly show her feelings towards the Prince.

“You are a fool, Aegon.” She whispered, feeling his closeness. “Now, step back before someone sees us.”

“Why?” He looked around, and then looked back at her. “There’s no one here and I’m comfortable.”

“My honor would be doubted if they see you this close to me.” She explained with a subtle smile, “Step back, now.”

“But I love admiring your beauty from this angle.” He muttered, getting closer and closer. 

“Aegon…” She pledged, feeling her heart beating faster.

“If you wouldn’t want it, you would stop me.” 

She could feel his breathing crashing against her lips, she could sense the waves of the sound of his sweet voice; she was weak, she was panting as soon as she realized that just one push would be enough to feel his lips against hers for the first time; just a tiny push, but she didn’t have the guts to do it, she was too scared.

His hand fell on her soft cheek, Aegon felt the warmth of it and smirked. Her eyes were glistening and he knew for sure that his were too. He was so close to her that he was able to smell the scent of her hair, so sweet and delicious. 

“I want to kiss you.” He said, brushing his lips against hers. 

“Do it-”

“Prince Aegon.” Said a male voice behind them, interrupting the moment abruptly. Suddenly all the magic was gone.

The Lady pushed him away once more, this time it took him by surprise making him roll over until he laid on his back against the grass. He cleared his throat and composed himself quickly before looking at Ser Criston, who was curiously staring at the both of them. The poor girl was so flustered that she could not even look the guard in the face; she looked at the book in her hands instead.

“Lady Arryn.” He greeted, “The Queen wants to see you both.”

“Both?” She repeated, scandalized. “Why?”

“I’m afraid I’m only a messenger, my Lady.” Ser Criston replied, while offering his hand to her so she could stand up without problem.

“I was going to do that!” Aegon complained, but Ser Criston ignored him. 

The both teens walked behind the guard with the white cloak in silence. Aegon would purposely brush his hand against hers only to make her smile; she would look at him with accomplice eyes in return for his silly action. 

Once they arrived at the Council Room, Queen Alicent, King Viserys and Lord Arryn were waiting for them. Ser Criston bowed swiftly before going to a corner of the room. The three adults were showing serious semblances that put the teens into distress, unsure of what they would say. 

“My King.” Lady Arryn said, bowing. “My Queen.” She repeated the action, and then she went to her father to whom she greeted with a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Why are we here?” Aegon asked.

“We have some important news we would like to share with you both.” King Viserys explained. “Please, be seated.”

They listened obediently, sitting right next to each other. Lady Arryn’s leg was jumping out of nervousness, thinking that someone might have seen all those times when Aegon tried to kiss her and she didn’t push him back, or that some maid could have started a rumor that put her honor in disgrace. She was tormenting herself with her ideas, getting more anxious by the second. Aegon noticed it, and he placed his hand over hers in order to calm her down a little. It worked.

“We all know how close you have been during your entire childhood and even now.” The King explained, “We also know that House Arryn has been loyal to our House since the days of Aegon the Conqueror, which is something I am truly grateful for.”

“We had a conversation during a Small Council meeting about your future as King.” Alicent spoke to his son, “And we have decided that it is time for you to marry with a good and decent Lady that could provide you with an heir.”

“And we have chosen you, Lady Arryn.” Viserys announced. The girl looked over the table to find her father smiling pleasantly, “Your father has just given us his blessing in this union and we are already getting the preparations for the wedding.”

“You’ll be married in a fortnight.” Said the Queen with a kind smile. “I hope this union makes you both equally happy.”

The girl could’t react at first, it felt like a dream. She has been in love with Aegon since she learned what it truly means to love someone; that thin, platinum haired boy has stolen her heart since they first met, and now she was getting married to him. To her Aegon. 

Aegon was also so thrilled about the news that an incredulous smile formed on his face as soon as he heard the news. He looked at his mother and mouthed a subtle ‘thank you’ which made her smile. He was not used to getting what he wanted. He never did, actually. But this, the fact that he would get to spend the rest of his life with the girl he was deeply in love with, was more than enough for him. 

He started to thank the Gods too for listening to his pledges, for giving him a chance to be happy. His heart was beating fast, and he didn’t know if it was because of the excitement or because he felt the eyes of his beloved on his face. He turned around and saw her softened haze and her sweet smile, it was impossible to ignore it.

“I told you.” Aegon said, “You will be my wife.”

Their wedding was beautiful. Lady Arryn wore a beautiful white gown with golden embroidery with the shape of pansies; her favorite flowers. Aegon's eyes were lost with her beauty that day, he could not believe his luck. Seeing her walking down the aisle with her father on her right arm and enormous bright smile on her face was enough for him to realize that he had everything he had ever dreamt of.

They were still too young to understand what marriage and forever truly mean, but they were excited to learn about those things together. 

Aegon could not be separated from his wife during the whole night; he could not stop kissing her in front of everyone, for she was finally his. His sneaky hands were touching her body everytime they would go and dance in the middle of the whole; Alicent would send warning stares at her oldest son,but he would just ignore them, he was way too happy to even care about what she might say about his attitude. Besides, she was already his wife. 

He forbade the bedding ceremony, claiming that the only man who deserves to see Lady Arryn naked is him. When the night arrived, she was too shy and nervous while Aegon was almost jumping with excitement. It was her first time, but not Aegon’s, and yet he felt as if he had never felt pleasure before, for there was no sensation in the world that could’ve been compared with what he felt once he saw her naked for the first time. 

He was soft and caring, touching her with such delicacy that even he surprised himself with it. She was so soft, so beautiful and mesmerizing. Aegon saw himself as the luckiest man in the entire world because he would get to spend the rest of his life contemplating the beautiful woman he has as his wife. 

Four years passed after their wedding night, and both were living through  their twentieth name-day. Their love was still present, as strong as it ever was. Aegon was still smiling as a teenage boy everytime she would enter the room, and she would still blush when he whispered unholy comments in her ear. They were living in a paradise made only for them.

However, they hadn’t been able to conceive an heir yet. 

At first, both of them were not enchanted with the idea of having a child, there was no rush either. King Viserys was still healthy, there was no war, no threats that might put their lives in danger, so they just decided to wait. Lady Arryn would drink her moontea in the mornings after spending the night together and wait until her time of the month would arrive. 

Then, she started to show herself a bit more open about it, after she met her nephews and nieces on a trip to the Eyrie. Aegon and her were married for two and a half years when she started to have desires for motherhood, but she knew that even though she felt ready, Aegon did not feel the same. The pressure of inheriting the crown was too much already, too many responsibilities that would not let him live as freely as he wants; having a child would add another duty in his long list.

“Don’t hate me for it.” Aegon begged after explaining himself to her. “All I’m asking for is a few more years. We’ve been doing fine on our own, we can keep doing it for a couple years more.”

Lady Arryn looked at him with her haze softened, caressing his cheeks with her thumb in sweet movements that would relax his body. His eyes were looking down at her with worry, scared that she might get angry at him for not giving her what she wanted; but she only nodded, accepting his deal with a subtle smile. 

“How could I ever hate you, my love?” She spoke softly. “I will wait, there’s no reason to hurry.” She shrugged, downplaying the matter. “Besides, we are both still young.”

“Are you sure you’re not mad at me?” He asked, insecureness was heard in his voice.

She cupped his chubby cheeks and brought him closer to her so she could kiss his lips in a tender way. Her lips were moving softly and slowly against his, while his hands positioned themselves on the curve of her hips.

“There is no reason to be mad, my love.” She clarified after she leaned back. “This family will also be yours. We both must be ready to start it, not just me.”

And that is what they did.

They were avoiding the constant questions of the Lords and Ladies that would grow curious by the absence of a child after three years of marriage. Aegon would not listen to those comments, but he would realize her reactions towards them; she would put on the fakest smile he had ever seen, and just shrug with a saddened look on her eyes. Even though Aegon did not worry about it, he eventually did. 

In one of their trips to the Eyrie, Aegon saw his lady wife playing with her nephews while her nieces braided her hair. Her smile was so genuine and big that made him whole. He noticed how happy she was whenever she was around those children, and then he realized that his wife has always been so attentive, kind and loving towards him, she never pushed him to do something he did not want to do, not even when she wanted it so bad. 

That is when he decided that it was time. He wanted to make her happy, to make himself worthy of her love, so he told her that he was ready. He wanted to give her a child.

However, the Gods did not seem to be so pleased with the idea, because after months of trying —and they definitely were trying—, she would not get pregnant. 

Lady Arryn was starting to lose hope, feeling guilty about the situation. She married the King’s heir in order to give him an heir, and she was miserably failing in her duty as wife. Aegon consoled her one night when he found her crying beside the bed. Her eyes were closed, she was kneeling and her hands were intertwined; she was praying to the Mother. 

“My love…” Aegon spoke up once he got into the room.

The girl looked up, her teary eyes were enough to break his heart. Her cheeks were glistening with the tears that had previously fallen down her face. Once she saw her beloved husband, she started crying loudly; he immediately kneeled beside her and hugged her tightly, comforting her in her pain.

“I’m so sorry, Aegon.” She whined in his ear. “I’ve tried, I swear it. I’ve been praying to the Mother but she refuses to listen.”

“Sh, sh.” He said while brushing her hair with his fingers. Hearing her voice so broken made him tear up too. He couldn’t handle seeing her in that way. “No need to apologize, my love. This is not your fault.”

“My womb is useless.” She said. “I haven’t been able to give you an heir. It is my duty and I couldn’t fulfill it.”

“Nonsense.” He whispered softly, cleaning the tears on her face and looking at her with a loving haze. “The Maester says we just need to keep trying.”

“He’s been saying it for months, Aegon.” Lady Arryn whined. “Nothing happens yet.”

“We just need to be patient.” Aegon tried to cheer her up. “Besides, it’s not like we are not enjoying the process, is it?”

She tried to smile, but she just couldn’t. The sorrow on her heart was too big, the thought of letting Aegon down was tortuous, heart breaking even. He had been such a loving and good husband, he deserved to be a good father too.

“I’ve failed you.” She whispered. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

“Don’t you ever say that again, y/n.” He warned. “You have never failed me. Never. Not even when I was a foolish boy.” He cupped her face and left a soft kiss on her lips. “You’ve made me the luckiest man alive, and I love you.” 

“I love you too.” She managed to say between sobs and sighs. 

“You were praying now, right?” She nodded. “This is what we are going to do; we, together, are going to pray to the Mother, we are going to pledge a little of her compassion, and we are going to try again.” He held her hands, left soft kisses in them before positioning in a prayer position. “Go on, love.”

Her shaky voice was heard around the room while she started to sing the Mother’s hymn. Aegon closed his eyes and started to pledge. He was not a full believer, he would just pretend to be praying when his mother blesses the table before eating; but now he meant it. He put his whole heart out, offering the Gods thousands of things in exchange for a child for his beloved wife. 

Six full moons later, there was still no positive outcome, and even though the Maester had given her hundreds of teas and infusions to make her more fertile, the results were the same. So Aegon decided to send her to the Vale in order to spend time with the small children of her brothers, thinking that the trip would cheer her up a bit, after so many months of not having good news. Aegon had to stay on King’s Landing in order to attend the Council Meetings, his father was starting to get older. 

Lady Arryn was away for at least a month when she decided to come back in the arms of his beloved, who would escape in Sunfyre’s back to see her at least once a week. He just couldn’t stay away from her for so long. 

When she arrived back in the Capital, Aegon ran into the main entrance with a big smile that soon faded away once he set his eyes on her. He had flown to see her a week ago, and she looked completely different from who he was looking at now. She could barely get out of the carriage by herself, and she fainted when she put her feet on the ground.

Aegon yelled in despair, asking for a Maester while he carried his wife all the way towards the room they shared. He was scared. Her face was paler, there were purple circles around her eyes and her skin was burning. He didn’t know what was going on with her, a few days ago she was just fine.

The Maester was quick enough to wake her up, but the fever was already putting signs of illness on her tired face. Aegon asked the old man a million times about the health of his wife, concerned, desperate and scared. Of course he didn’t have the answers to it yet.

“Is it a babe?” Aegon asked hurryingly. “Is she- is she finally pregnant?”

“My Prince, these are not symptoms of a healthy pregnancy.” The Maester informed, “I’m afraid I should send some letters to the Citadel in order to find out.”

“Well, then fucking do that!” He screamed in his face. “Why are you still waiting?!”

“Aegon…” A soft voice was heard, the man turned around to see his wife waking up and trying to stand up. “Aegon, my love.”

“It’s okay, I’m here.” He rushed to her side and soon grabbed her shaky hand. “What happened? Tell me, what do you feel?”

A maid walked towards her with a wet cloth and a bowl filled with cold water. Aegon grabbed those things and started to clean her face, trying to make the fever go away. 

“We stopped to eat in a canteen on the way here.” She informed him, “The food was delicious.”

“Was it?” Aegon asked with a small smile on his lips, she nodded. “How are you feeling?” He asked. 

“A bit tired.” She said, “And thirsty.”

Aegon hurried to the nightstand and grabbed a cup to fill it with fresh and cold water. He helped her drink it, lifting her chin with two of his fingers and pouring the water inside her mouth. 

“I guess we won’t be able to try for a baby tonight.” She lamented, jokingly. That made him chuckle. 

“We can do that tomorrow night, there’s no hurry.” He leaned to kiss her forehead, feeling how sweaty and hot was her skin. “You must rest now.”

“Will you stay by my side?” She asked, closing her eyes once again. 

“I will always, my love.” 

He did as promised and never left her side. He was there, on a chair by her bed the entire day and the night that followed it. The maids would try to convince him to go and eat something, they promised him that she was in good hands, but he refused. He would not leave her, not like this. 

Her father went to see her, Lord Arryn stroked her hair for a while before saying goodbye as he must travel to Essos in the name of the crown. He thought it wasn’t something serious, he thought that she would be fine within days, but Aegon knew that wasn’t the case. He knew from the beginning that something was wrong.

Alicent went to see her daughter in law, and she brought food for her son. He received it, thanked her for it, but he did not eat it. He was not hungry, he was not tired; he was worried. He had never seen anyone in that state, and something inside of him was telling him it was not normal.

The next day she woke up first. Her head was aching and her body was covered in chills making her shiver with the cold wind. Aegon’s hand was wrapped around hers, and she squeezed it three times to wake him up too. The silver haired man opened his eyes tiredly and soon a groan came out of his throat for the backache that was produced by the uncomfortable and hard chair. He stopped complaining as soon as he saw his wife’s eyes staring at him.

He yawned before giving her a sweet smile, kissing her hand and then her forehead. Her skin was still burning.  

“Good morrow, my sun.” He greeted her, “Did you sleep well?”

“I did.” Her voice sounded weak, but Aegon tried to ignore that. “Did you?”

“I didn’t.” He answered annoyed, “This is a fucking castle, how can it not have comfortable chairs around?”

She laugh weakly.

“You still have a fever, don’t you?” Aegon asked. 

“I do, and I’m cold.” She complained. 

“I know, my love.” He replied, “But the Maester says it’s not good to put so many blankets on you, your fever can go worse.”

“And what about my husband’s arms?” She asked teasingly. Aegon just smiled, “Did the Maester forbid that too?”

Aegon took his shirt out of his body and made his way on top of the thin white bed sheet that was covering the shivering body of his beloved. She quickly cuddled under his arms, and hid her face on his chest, feeling the familiar warmth. Aegon did not care about how sweaty her body was, he just cared about making her feel comfortable and safe. She fell asleep once again; the fever was consuming her body.

The Maester walked in a few minutes before and almost choked when he saw the scene. A scandalized grin took over his wrinkled face and looked at them with horror. 

“Oh, no, my Prince!” He said, pulling Aegon’s arm and forcing him to get out of the bed. 

“What the fuck you think you’re doing?” He raised his voice, Lady Arryn woke up.

“My Prince, you should not be this close to you wife, she-”

“She’s my fucking wife, what did you expect?” He angrily protested. 

“My Prince, whatever illness the Princess has, we are not sure whether it is contagious or not. We cannot put your health at risk.”

Aegon was about to yell again, his face was red with anger because the Maester had woken up his wife. His hands were turned into fists, ready to punch him in the face, but the sweet voice of his beloved spoke first.

“I’m sorry, Maester Orwyle.” She said lightly, “It was my suggestion, not the Prince’s.” 

The Maester walked towards her and she tried to sit up but her arms were too frail to hold her weight, so she fell back onto the mattress. Aegon frowned, but she gave him a smile of reassurance. 

“You still have a fever, Princess.” The Maester pointed out. “How is your body behaving? Have you got any chill sensation? Cold, shivers, or a headache perhaps?”

“All of them.” She answered with one breath. 

The man took a weird looking tool and put it against her chest. He put his ear on it and asked everyone to be quiet. His eyes soon narrowed with worry, but he tried to downplay the situation by hiding his face from the Prince’s intense haze. His attempt failed.

“What?” Aegon asked harshly, “What happened, why would you make that face?” 

“My Prince-”

“What is going on?” He insisted, “Fucking answer me!”

“The heartbeats sound a bit weak.” He explained, “Too slow and too soft for someone for her age.”

“Well, then fucking do something about it!” 

“I’m going to prepare an infusion of herbs for the Princess, that might do well.” He said before leaving the room. 

The two of them stayed alone in the room once again, Lady Arryn looked at her husband and stretched her arm so he could grab her hand. He did, and he kissed it, sitting on the uncomfortable chair beside the bed.

“Don’t be so mean to him, my love.” She said, “He is trying to help.”

“He’s the Grand Maester, if he cannot do his job then we must find another one that can.” She stared at him with a scolding gesture, Aegon sighed, rolling his eyes. “I want the best for you, if I have to travel all over the world to find something to make you feel better, then I will.”

“I’m going to be fine.” She assured him, “In a week I’ll be out of this bed and we can start trying for a child again.”

“Don’t stress your mind thinking about it.” He told her, shaking his head. “We’ve talked about this before; there’s no hurry.”

“But-”

“No ‘but’, my sun.” He interrupted her, “We need to focus on your health first.”

And she nodded, giving an end to the conversation. 

Aegon wished to say his wife was getting better, but it was not the case at all. Everyday it seemed as if someone was sucking the life out of her body. She lost a lot of weight, Aegon was able to see her ribs marked on her chest; she barely ate anything, she did not have an appetite to satisfy. Everyday she would speak less too, and her voice would get breathy as if she was getting exhausted by just saying some words. Aegon then stopped making her answer, she would just nod, refuse or smile at him. It was better that way.

She didn’t have the strength to sit up either, so Aegon had to give her water with the help of a dropper. She would complain every time she swallowed, which alarmed him even more. 

When Aegon thought he was going through the worst, a terrible thing happened. He was ranting about the Maester and how he hasn’t found a solution to her illness even though it has been days since she was in that state. He was furious, spitting words of rage and nuisance while his wife just looked at him with tired glossy eyes. 

And then she started to cough.

At first, he did not pay too much attention to it, thinking that it was just that; a simple cough. But then, the white bed sheets were stained with small drops of blood. Aegon jumped out of the chair and helped her sit up while desperately calling for Maester Orwyle. She did not stop coughing, it was like she was choking on her own blood. 

Aegon’s eyes widened in terror, and an exasperating sensation took over his body when he saw that no one was coming to help her. Where the fuck was everyone? He thought, while he was on the verge of tears. He almost ripped his throat apart while screaming and demanding the presence of the Maester, who minutes later walked inside the room and quickly approached the Princess who had just stopped coughing. 

She had her eyes closed, and it seemed as if she was in pain with every breath she took. 

The Maester gave her milk of the puppy just so she could stop complaining about the tortuous pain her weakened body was suffering, and once he was ready to leave Aegon grabbed his arm with a firm grip, his eyes were teary and filled with rage. 

“What is going on with her?” He demanded an answer, his voice shaking. “Answer me!”

“We don’t know what is going on with her, my Prince.” He stuttered, “We have never seen a case like this before. The Citadel-”

“I don’t give a fuck about the Citadel.” Aegon spat, “You need to tell me what is wrong with her, why is she not getting better? It’s been days!”

“I’ve tried every method I know.” He confessed, “It seemed as if her body is rejecting everything. I’m not sure if she will make it.”

“What the fuck are you saying?” 

“My Prince, your lady wife state is alarming…” He spoke with care, as if she was walking between dragons. “She could not survive-”

Aegon grabbed him by his collar, making him gasp out of the impression. His nostrils expanded and he was breathing fast and hard, he was fuming.

“If my wife dies, you will die too.” He threatened him, “You must save her, I don’t care what you have to do, but you will save her.” 

The old man left quickly, and again it was just him and his dying wife. Aegon felt tears running down his face. He hated seeing her like this, so weak and sick. He would see her eyes for glimpses of time, he would take the opportunity to see them whenever she would open them, and it was enough for him to notice how they were not as shiny as they usually were; they were drained, with so little life. 

Alicent arrived in her room a few hours later, she saw his son grabbing her hand and the dried tears in his eyes. She walked closer to him and caressed his back in a motherly touch that made him shiver.

“What did the Maester say?” She asked worried.

“He doesn’t know what is going on.” Aegon replied with a shaky voice, proof that he had been crying. “He is an incompetent. How the fuck is he even a Maester if he doesn’t know how to heal people?”

“He’s trying his best.” Alicent consoled him, “He had sent multiple letters to the Citadel already, the answers might take too long to arrive.”

“But I need it now.” He muttered. “She is sick now, look at her!” He scalped, making Alicent flinch. “She is burning! The fever is killing her!”

“It is not, my child.” She said, in a failed attempt to calm him down. “Y/n will be fine… you just have to pray for her health and wellbeing. You won’t even notice and she’ll be healthy again.”

Then, Aegon broke. He stood up from his chair beside the bed and went to hug his mother, hiding his head on the crook of her neck and leaving traces of tears all over her green dress. Alicent hugged him back, stroking his hair and whispering words of consolation. 

“I’m scared.” He confessed, whispering. “I can’t lose her, mother. I cannot live without her.”

“You will not lose her.” She said, “She will be fine.”

“She’s not getting better.” He pulled away and looked at his mother. “The Maester even told me, she is too weak already.”

“I’ve seen people living through worse and surviving.”

“You didn’t see what I saw.” He shook his head, “She was coughing blood, mother. Blood!” His lower lip trembled, making his voice sound unsteady. “She’s dying.”

Alicent held his hands, “We should pray together, wouldn’t you like that? Y/n is devoted to the Seven, perhaps this is what she would want.” 

Aegon nodded and his mother gave a sweet kiss on his forehead before going at the end of the bed and grabbing their hands. He gave a glance to his wife, she was sleeping soundly, covered with the bedsheets and her hair was spreaded on her pillow. Aegon whined once he saw her poor state, and soon he forced himself to close his eyes and pray with his mother. 

He begged them. He asked them to return her health in exchange for everything he had. He offered his title; he never wanted it in the first place, he offered his dragon; he could live without him but not without his wife, he even offered his own life because he knew hers was more worthy than his. She did not deserve to die so young, she was always so full of life, always smiling and laughing, so kind and thoughtful. If someone deserved to die it was him, not her; so he begged the gods to take him instead. 

When the next morning came, he woke up in the same chair as always, covered in the same blanket and holding the same hand, but something was different. He could feel it. 

He squeezed her hand three times as usual to wake her up, but she did not squeeze it back. Aegon frowned and tried again; the outcome was the same. He tried not to panic or have an early reaction, so she stood up and quickly sat on the bed, right beside her.

“My love?” He said softly, “My love, is time to wake up.” Aegon softly shook her body, yet there was no answer. “Please, my love, let me see those beautiful eyes. Wake up.”

Nothing. Not even a sigh. 

Aegon grew desperate by the second and the tears soon started to gather in his eyes, knowing the meaning of this. He never gave up, he was still calling her and moving her body begging for her to react. 

“Y/n, please, wake up.” He pledged once again, sobbing, “I need you to wake up, I need you, please! Please!”

His hand went to her hair to caress it, and he felt the coldness of her forehead. All these past days, her skin was burning, but now it was as cold as ice. Aegon widened his eyes and his hands cupped her face.

“No, no, no.” He muttered, sniffing and whimpering. “Please, don’t. Don’t leave, my love. Please wake up.” His tears fell on her pale face, and he sob loudly. “Y/n, my love, please!” He started to yell, “Don’t do this to me! Wake up!”

His shouting started to concern the guard outside the room, he entered and saw Aegon crying on top of his dead wife’s body, holding her head and stroking her hair while he was uncontrollably sobbing. The guard saw what was happening and he was quick to call the Queen and the Maester, who appeared in the room within minutes. 

Alicent gasped once he saw the heartbreaking scene, and soon she started to cry too. Aegon was now holding her body while his face was buried on her chest. He never stopped crying and begging her to wake up. Soft ‘please’ were heard, he was whimpering pledged to her and the Gods, but neither seemed to listen.

“My Prince-”

“Don’t touch her!” He shouted at the Maester once he tried to put his hands on her. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

“Aegon,” Alicent walked towards him, rubbing his back and trying to not sound as if she was crying. “The Maester needs to do his job, please-”

“He killed her!” He accused him, “I will put your fucking useless head on a spike, you idiot cunt!”

“Aegon, that’s enough.” Alicent warned him, “You must let her go, please, my child.”

A group of Silent Sisters entered the room and Aegon’s whole body froze. The ladies started to walk towards the bed while Alicent was pulling him away from it. He started squirming under his mother’s arms, not wanting to be separated from his beloved.

Soon, two guards entered the room and grabbed his arms, forcing him to leave his wife.

“No! No!” He started to move harshly, trying to be set free. “Please, don’t take her! Please! Mother, please!”

“I’m so sorry, my child.” His mother answered.

Aegon saw how her face was covered with the white sheet, and how the Silent Sisters grabbed her body and took her out of the room, he was still fighting against the strong grips that were holding him back. 

“Let me go! Please!” He begged again.

Once the Silent Sister left and the bed was empty, the guards let him go. He felt onto his knees, seeing the shape of his wife still marked on the mattress they used to share and the tears came back. His mother stood by his side, and he hugged her hips gripping the gown of her dress and moaning out of pain. 

He lost her, the love of his life was gone and there was no one to blame. The Stranger looked back at him with a mocking face and took his wife, leaving him completely alone. 

Hours later he found himself staring at her body being wrapped in bandages in order to realize the funeral. He had one bottle filled with wine in his hand, and a piece of bread in the other. He was stumbling because he was already drunk. The Silent Sisters were working, and Aegon was lost in his own grief, looking at the corpse of his wife. 

He did not care if she was not a Targaryen, her funeral will be under the Old Valyrian traditions. 

“Aegon, you should not be here.” 

Aegon did not answer, he did not even bother to look at his mother who just arrived on his side. 

“It’s bad luck to see the face of the dead, we cannot be here.” She warned.

He scoffed, taking a large sip from his bottle and then taking a bite from the piece of bread in his hand. He shrugged as if he did not care. And in some way, he didn’t.

“I don’t give a shit.” He muttered, “They have already taken everything from me. They may as well take me if they are merciful enough.”

“Don’t say those things.” Alicent said. She turned around to not look at the corpse anymore, facing his child whose eyes seemed to be stuck on her wife’s body. “Y/n would not like you to die.”

“And what do you know?” He asked mockingly, “You knew nothing about her. None of you did!”

“Aegon, please be quiet. The Gods-”

“Fuck the Gods.”

“Aegon!” She scolded him.

“No, no. Fuck them.” He spat furiously, his eyes were a mixture of sadness and anger. “I begged them, mother. Me and y/n begged them for their mercy.” He started crying again, “When we wanted a child, we begged every fucking night to the Mother, to have a little of compassion towards us and give us the child that we deserved- that she deserved!” He sniffed, looking now at his mother. “Then I begged all of them for her life. And none of them heard me, none of them did!”

“My child…” She tried to hug him, but he took a step back. 

“They made me believe that I was safe.” He muttered, “They made me meet her, love her and marry her. They gave me this  happiness just so they can steal it away!” 

He laughed, a bitter laugh that made Alicent sink in her place. Aegon took the last sip from his cup and threw the bottle away, not caring about the uproarious sound it would make once it fell onto the ground. Then, he turned to his mother once again.

“I couldn’t-” He sighed, trying not to cry. “I couldn’t even give her a child.” He scoffed, “It was all she ever wanted and I couldn’t give it to her.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Aegon.” She tried to console him once again. 

“I have nothing left from her.” He said bitterly, “Not even a child that would help me to remember her face. Nothing at all.”

He threw the piece of bread in his hand on the floor, and he left for the gardens; the place where they were always gathered during their youth. 

Aegon saw everything with nostalgic eyes filled with tears. His head was aching, his throat too. He had a watery nose thanks to the tears and his heart was feeling shattered. He looked around, finding the tree where they always used to read, the benches where Aegon used to sit down while Lady Arryn would braid his hair. Although the flowers were his breaking point. 

He walked close to the small mauve pansies that she always loved. He would always steal one and put her on her hair every time they came to the gardens. She would blush and laugh nervously for the gesture, but he always ended up receiving a small kiss on his cheek for it. That’s why he always did it.

He took one and looked at it with attention, remembering the same petals on her white wedding gown during the happiest day in his life. 

He couldn’t help but cry at the memory.

+

The day of the funeral Aegon did not speak with anyone. Lord Arryn and his other sons —y/n’s brothers— arrived within a week, and then everything was ready for the ceremony. 

Sunfyre was in the hills, waiting for the signal of his rider to set fire on the wrapped body. They were all expecting for Aegon to give a speech, to say something about the wife he claimed to love so deeply, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was too broke, too lost in his grief.

He had a small mauve pansy in his hand, Aemond had told him that it represented the lost love which gave a whole different meaning to it. Aegon heard the speech of his father in law, who was devastated for not taking her illness seriously and leaving her without his company on her last days. Aegon could hear the guilt in his voice, and he would be grateful that at least he was with her during her last breath. 

When the time arrived, everyone went silent. Aegon had to pronounce the word, but instead he walked toward the body and stood beside them, letting himself cry in agony for his suffering. Minutes passed and he found himself staring at it for too long. 

He took the flower and left it where her ear was supposed to be. This time, however, he did not feel her soft lips against his cheek.

“I will always love you, my sun.” He whispered before walking back to where the rest of the people were. 

Aegon stood beside his mother, who rubbed his back in the instant he was close. He took a deep breath and saw the body one last time. He tried to imagine a life without her, without her smile and laughter, without her rosy cheeks and nervous muttering. He couldn’t. A life without her seemed almost impossible.

He imagined a future with her instead, and a thousand pictures would come to his mind. Her raising a child that would be as beautiful as her, her dancing with him on their children's name day, her having long conversations at night with him. He thought so easily about those things because that was what should’ve been; a long life by her side.

But now he was standing in front of everybody, crying and sighing with an agonizing pain on his chest. His voice refused to come out in the first two tries, but on the third, he cleared his throat and accepted his miserable future, without the woman he so deeply loved.

He took a deep breath, and finally said,

“Dracarys.”

[atarathegreat]

BAKUGO NOW

Did you say: fantasy AU Bakugo smutt?

Dragon Prince Bakugo.

Bakugo wasn't opposed to an arranged marriage, per se. His mother and father were done with their exploring, and his mother was done berserking. Bakugo himself still hunted, but his mother and father were done with what they called 'young people activities'.

Besides, a marriage meant a celebration, and a celebration meant that everyone got to go wild. Drinking, sparring, dancing! It would all be so much fun for him and the others. It was like Bakugo could already smell the ale and feel the punches that he would be earning. It excited him to no end. Whoever was going to be his wife, as lucky as she was, would have to manage with him being as rowdy as he pleased. Maybe he would get lucky, too, and she would be a barbarian like him, just as rowdy.

"Bakugo, are you really going to wear that nasty pelt?" His mother, Mistuski, stood in the arch to his chambers, soon to be shared with a stranger, "You wear that dirty thing to go hunting and fishing and you want to wear it for a wedding celebration?"

Bakugo turned and glared at his mother, all while taking heavy steps toward the pile of clothes and pelts in the corner, "You want me to wear these overly fancy rags? Do I look like someone who wears green? I'm likely to be mistaken for a boar or a nightwalker!" He was wrong, of course, as he usually was, but his mother understood his anger. Her son didn't like fancy items or flashy jewelry. But his hunting pelt? Surely he had better sense than that. "Don't you want to make a dazzling first impression on your future wife?" Mitsuki smiled, holding up a nicer, cleaner pelt.

"I don't rightfully care. Our marriage is political at best, and a mothers move to get me married at worst." Bakugo plopped onto his bed.

Mitsuki was shocked. Not that he was wrong, her son was intelligent, but that he had openly said it without knowing what was leaving his lips. Sure, political was the best way to call it, bringing barbarians and the clerics together in, at least, a shaky alliance. But it would also be a lie to say that her and her husband hadn't also planned it so that her son would have a wife sooner, maybe even kids if he felt like being the bare minimum for a husband. Mitsuki sighed and sat next to her son, her awfully thick-headed son, "Can you just do as I ask you? Just this once, let this go smoothly?" She hated to beg her son to be clean, but she knew that there was a soft spot somewhere in him.

"If I do, will you get off my back about it?"

"I might."

To relent and let his mother have her way would bite him in the ass later, but he got up and switched the pelt out, securing a lighter wolf pelt at his hips, "Happy now?"

"Okay! Be ready by midday and don't get covered in blood, this needs to be a good impression for the girl and her family." Mitsuki clapped as she left, feeling triumphant.

Come midday, her victory was null. The poor girl's family had sent her alone. From Ethel to Kazar, the young lady had traveled in the back of a wagon with nothing but a simple dress. No jewels, no colors, not even a smile. Mitsuki watched as the girl stepped from her wagon, simple flat shoes hidden under the long fabric of her skirts. She was supposed to be a noble, but she looked like a little peasant child who begs for money.

"I thought clerics wore robes and traveled together?" Her husband, Masaru, watched the girl with pity, "She looks sad."

Her soft flat shoes were dirty and torn, like the bottom of her dress, and the rest of her was...grey. Her and her aura were dull and grey and defeated. As if she had nothing left.

"So much for that alliance, huh?" Bakugo scoffed, returning inside the castle to avoid the silent creature that would be his bride. She wasn't interesting enough to keep him around for anything, and he wouldn't subject himself to the nap she would give him. His mother, on the other hand, refused to let this be the ending or a fail. Mitsuki smiled and took the girls hands in her own, "Hello, sweetheart. How was your trip?"

"Long, Your Highness." The girl even sounded like a field mouse, how adorable, "Long and silent."

If anyone had paid attention for a fraction of a second, they would have seen that the wagon rode off as soon as her foot touched the ground. Sad. But Mitsuki was happy that the girl was in Kazar now, at least she would grow to have some semblance of a family that would travel with her. Mitsuki nodded, "Call me Mitsuki. What is your name, hun?"

"Y/n." She responded well enough, albeit timidly. Masaru suspected that Y/n was raised in one of the many families that viewed the woman as caretakers and mothers. A devastating fate when women were as strong as the men if given the chance to build muscle. There was no doubt that Bakugo would be upset by this girl not being strong or loud. "Where is your family?" He was curious, who was this girl and why was she alone?

"They sent me alone. Said that the alliance meant little to them so long as I was out of their sight." Y/n spoke without confidence, but as if she believed every word she said, "They wanted to thank you for taking this burden off their hands."

That struck Masaru in a visceral way. Her own family saw her as a burden? How awful. She was anything but, and she was cute, clearly had nice genes for a cleric.

"I wish to apologize. I... I know little. I cannot read or write; I hardly understand my own ways. I'm useless and lack the ability to bring anyone joy." It was so awful to hear the things she said about herself. Y/n was pretty, Mitsuki could already see the beautiful grandchildren she would gain from this girl and her son. Good genes and good genes bred better genes, in her mind. "But I am willing to learn, if there is anyone with the patience to deal with my stupidity. I can clean, but I've never been praised for the work." She was so upfront about what she thought was things they would turn her away for.

And this behavior persisted into the celebrations. Y/n isolating herself in the corners, in the shadows, avoiding the others who wished to get to know her and welcome her to the clan and village. It was upsetting.

Bakugo found her after a hefty search (a search of ten minutes where he wasn't actually looking but happened to glance at her a few times before finally approaching). "What's wrong? Do you not realize how grateful you should be for this?" Bakugo came on strong, he was aware of that, but who hid during their own wedding celebrations? She seemed to be brushing it all aside and acting as if this was what she deserved. "Apologies. I'm not supposed to interact with anyone." Y/n was a mumbling mess, never speaking louder than she thought she needed to. It pissed Bakugo off to no end. "Whatever. If you don't want to be down here, then go to bed. You'll bring the mood down." He returned to the sparring corner of the big room, joining in with the fights.

Y/n, with a lot of difficulty, managed to find the bedchambers where she would be sleeping. It was Bakugo's room, of course, she knew that, but now she would also occupy the space. It was a messy space, a man's space. How was she supposed to feel at home in this strange place, with strange people, and an even stranger lifestyle? She was used to the women being small, quiet, never drawing attention to themselves. The women here in Kazar, they didn't seem to care about the consequences of having the attention. Aside from that, the women were muscley and brawn. They even knew how to read.

She crawled into the windowsill and looked up at the stars. For a brief moment she foolishly thought about whether her family was missing her. It was a dumb thought, one she wiped away quickly.

Meanwhile, Bakugo was sparring and drinking, thoughts of his new bond gone as he drowned his liver in ale and whatever foods had been made. His concerns were with winning the matches he was in. Zero thoughts of the girl up in his window. When he did finally stumble his way up to his chambers, Y/n was there immediately. Her gentle hands held cold cloths to his alcohol warmed cheeks. "What the hell are you doing to me, woman?" Bakugo grabbed her wrists to keep her hands on his face. The way she stared at him, wide eyes that reminded him of a frightened doe staring at a hunter as she waited for him to make a move.

"You're too damn quiet." Bakugo moved his face closer to hers, wanting to see what type of reaction he could pull out of her. Y/n seemed like a stoic girl and Bakugo wanted to see her lose her temper, to see her make any face except that doe eyed stare. So, he kept moving closer, until his lips touched hers and he'd never felt something so soft. He would blame the ale later.

Her body was rigid, yet loose, as Bakugo held her cheeks to keep her from moving away from him. Her tongue tasted of fruits, wild berries and water from a stream. It was addicting for the man, even if he was just some drunken barbarian at the moment.

Something about her softness was drawing him in. The way she moved how he wanted her to and the careful way she touched him, like he was as fragile as she was. It was different, in a good way.

"You have a choice in this." He mumbled, unable to make himself pull his lips away from hers, "Just because I am your husband does not mean you have to do everything I wish."

And she still didn't reject him or his advances. It was almost like she leaned into them, put more pressure in her gentle touches and soft caresses. The pelt around his hips hit the wall before the floor as he tossed it, not really giving a damn about where it went as long as it was off of him. "You're cute, I'll give you that." Bakugo mumbled as he walked her backwards towards the bed, bunching the skirts of her dress in his hands, "I wonder if the rest of you is as soft as your hands..."

"I'm not worth your physical affections." Y/n fell back easily onto the bed, never pushing Bakugo away. A loud laugh exploded in his chest at her words, "You're worth it if I find you worth it. You clearly aren't smart enough to gauge that."

Soft was an understatement. Plush and soft, Bakugo couldn't keep himself from squeezing every inch of her skin. "Soft as a hawk sprite chick. You ever felt one of them?" Bakugo nuzzled against her collar bone, "I'll catch one on my next hunting trip so you can."

This girl, this woman that Bakugo has been married to, what type of life had she led? Why was she so subservient to him? She didn't even fight him as he undressed her. He was a stranger to her, and she just... let him do as he pleased. Would she even make noise if he didn't ask her to?

Bakugo bit at her neck, smiling to himself at the involuntary gasp that he had pulled from her. He had caused a sound, though it was soft, to leave her without asking. "You're softer than the women here, you know that? It's nice, but I want you to talk more. Fuck, scream at anything if you want." Bakugo shuffled his pants down his legs and laughed at the way she avoided eye contact. It was apparent that she would be someone he'd have to have a small amount of control over, but that was the fun with some of these things. Bakugo leaned over her and grabbed her chin, "I want to see these pretty eyes on me."

Without a second of warning or even courtesy of being careful, Bakugo snatched her to the edge of the bed and snuggled his cock deep within her hold. She was soft, and it felt like she was trying to pull him deeper. "There you go, just keep squeezing." Bakugo pulled back a little to look at the connection he had forged, "Stretched fuckin' wide, you know that?"

She was cute when she whimpered, her unscathed hands gripping at Bakugo's rougher skin was nearly driving him absolutely crazy. This stranger, this quiet woman that Bakugo was so, so sure he would hate, had managed to make herself the center of Bakugo's, albeit drunken, world. There was nothing to stop him from leaving his teeth marks across her skin, and she looked a lot better with his markings. He had to think for a moment about how wonderful it would be to see her running to him after a hunting trip, how excited she would be to see him return was something he was hoping to see one day.

The pleasure was getting him too lost in his mind, making him think that maybe being married wasn't so bad, that maybe it wasn't just a political marriage. He didn't even see that he was hurting her, but she didn't sound like she was in pain. Blood started to stain the pelt blanket below her, causing a slight bit of concern. "Are you okay?" He didn't stop, she was too comfortable, but he also wouldn't make the mistake of thinking her body was as tough as a barbarian womans. "Stings a little, but it's okay~" Every word sounded like it was laced with euphoria. Maybe she had never felt such a thing, never had sex. Perhaps her body was as strong as a barbarian womans, she just hadn't ever used it.

"Hold on to me if you need to, I'll take care of you." Bakugo mumbled, putting more of his teeth marks across her neck.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Hi, you don't have to answer this if you don't want to but I've been absolutely fascinated by your monster au and I'm just wondering where reptilian monsters are on the monster hierarchy as there is such a mix of reptiles as they will range from being the most deadly thing on planet earth to being a sweet little lizard and I'm just insanely curious, again i absolutely love your writing and it infests my brain like little rats!

(omg first graves ask is this fame) Hehehe. I feel like reptilian monsters are, just like any other monsters, depend on their type and the original creature they stem from. For example, in warm-blooded monsters, werewolves are stronger than normal wolf/dog monsters, despite them looking fairly similar. Reptilian monsters generally require a lot of external heat and special conditions for them to thrive - and a lot of them are actually on the bottom of the food chain, mostly being used as breeding material for stronger monsters. If you don't have venom or enormoud body strength like python hybrids, and you're a mythical creature like a water dragon or lamia, then you're in for a life of misery. But if we're talking about hybrids with more mythological origins...take Graves, for example. He isn't just a random venomous snake hybrid - I mostly imagine this man as naga, switching freely from his human form to half-snake with his lower half being of a giant rattlesnake - and two cocks, obviously, because just being a toy for the whole Shadow Company isn't enough. Graves is a strong monster in this regard - having both venom and enormous strength and being less dependent on heat, he rise through monster ranks fairly easily, even before he finally got an outlet for his anger and mating instincts. He got lucky, too, because his darling is a warm pretty thing that gets so sleepy on his venom, she obediently spreads her legs for the rest of his boys - and oh, Shadow Company fucking adores her. It might be one of the rare cases where the monsters aren't treating you just like breeding stock - they might do it only because they respect Phillip too much to treat his wife harshly, but you're still living like a queen, surrounded by various werebeasts and vermin hybrids who all are launching onto you like you're the last woman around. You actually might be in this case...

[missisjoker]

Cannibal!Cregan

When Cregan Stark mixes his northern blood with the fiery blood of Jacaerys Velarion, the magic stirs beneath the roots of the weirwood tree and bursts free, like the fire of the Fourteen Flames.

Soon after the southern prince leaves for Dragonstone, Lord Stark starts having dreams. He's had similar dreams before- tracing the autumn forest with soft steps of a wild cat, watching Winterfell from above through the eagle's eyes, hunting elk in the skin of a dire wolf.

But it was never... this. He felt wild and untamed and beastly before, but now? He feels like his veins are like molten metal burning from within, a deep-rooted fire churning with every heartbeat. His dreams are filled with ash and smoke, and he soon realizes he must be dreaming of being a dragon.

So, he writes to Jace to ask for advice. But he can't say it outright, or else his prince - and naturally, the Queen- would think he's lost his wits. So, he tries to be a little more cryptic, hoping Jace would understand since the prince's family is no stranger to magic or dragons.

Jace, in his eagerness of youth, misses the meaning completely and instead thinks Cregan is trying to confess his love for him (and Cregan does love him deeply, but he would tell that face to face, not betray it to a piece of parchment). He writes back, confessing his own feelings.

That almost wrecks Cregan- because he wishes to have his prince next to him, to kiss him eagerly, to mate him... All while his dragon dreams become more fierce, and more real.

It takes him a few nights to make peace with the thought that he is warging into a dragon- an untamed and wild dragon at that. It takes him a few more weeks of excruciating battle of wills to bind the dragon to his mind. He doesn't want to, but he is a practical man. If using this gift fulfills his promise to Jace and stops the war, and if it spares the lives of his men- then so be it. The dragon is unrelenting, so Cregan sends more letters to Jace explaining his predicament, his fear that he will lose his mind to the beast, and, if that's the case- his final loving farewell to his prince.

Then he prepares himself, wrestles full control from the dragon, and flies to King's Landing. He perches on the Red Keep's tower, watching as the guards scramble below, waiting. Then, when he sees a man with targaryen white hair and a crown, he eats him. When another blond man with an eye patch comes running out of the gate, he eats him too. And then he leaves.

Cregan comes back to his senses drenched in sweat, shivering and aching. He marched after the greybeards south, but didn't make much progress because dragon dreams left him almost crippled. He only manages to finish a bath and dress up when he hears in the back of his scull Vermax screech and roar in the skies above; and then he sees his prince land into the yard.

Jace throws himself on Cregan, worried sick and horrified to lose him, but also incredibly grateful and amazed... because only a few hours before he was told that a wild, riderless dragon has eaten the usurper and Aemong and thus ended the war.

Cregan drinks up Jace's kisses and tears like a drowning man gulps for air, but has to stop because he feels - deep in his bones- that the dragon he warged into, the Cannibal, is furious and coming for his vengeance. Dragon is no slave, and he will have to pay the price.

He tells Jace to leave, that he will face the beast alone, but Jace cups his face in his princely hands and tells him no. They will face whatever the gods send their way together. Besides, Jace might just be able to deal with the dragon.

(Everybody lives. Jace proves he can charm anyone- including a wild, angry, untamed dragon out for blood. Cannibal gets a herd of 50 sheep for devouring and another 10 sheep weekly doordashed to his lair on Dragonstone. Vermax gets a new grumpy friend. Cregan gets a rider.)

[opiopal]

Are we sure demons are even mammals? Their human forms are for hiding among humans, so they might not have the less obvious functions. We know Lucifer had 12 wings, but his angel form only shows six, implying that that is at least one more "truer" form, which could also be the case with demons. The truest form of a native demon might use an alternate method to feed their young.

this actually got me thinking more about it, so I started to think about their demon forms since that would probably give more answers,

so lucifer and mammon are birds, peacock and crow, so they would tend to eggs, so no need for breast feeding birds

levi is a serpent, yes there is sea life that are mammals, but sea snakes are def not one of them, so fertilizing eggs in bunches doesn't require breasts even after hatching.

asmo is a scorpion, I have NO CLUE how scorpions work when it comes to their young but i know for a fact that anything with an exoskeleton.. most of the time isn't a mammal. so again, eggs.

and beel is a bug, I forget if its fact that hes a cicada? thats just what I remember, and cicadas arent mammals so again, eggs

now i tried to search for what satan is since its really unclear(at least to me), if he was a bird like his dadmom then he would probably have wings, but he IS wing. and when I searched I was told unicorn and wolf(ofc his rebel teen emo ass would be a wolf) and obviously belphie is a goat/cow thing, so technically the anti lucifer league should be mammals just going off of their demon forms,

but again no nipples, belphie makes sense cause again, former angel, popped into existance, no mommy for him, but satan was born from lucifer.. technically organically...? (still cant believe mpreg basically happened) but lucifer probably was never intended to have kids from his own body so no nipples, and again satan came from wings, which yeah would all make sense, but then again I circle back to Dia

he's a dragon, yet was born not from an egg, but as a result of a live birth. which resulted in his mother passing away. so I'm still going strong on my dia's not a full demon theory(maybe royal blood makes him appear to be a pure demon?)

and I can also imagine that demons dont have a big powerful form like a "be not afraid" angel does, so lucifer and the brothers prolly had a down grade in the scary physical form factor. prolly another layer to their punishments. (ofc demons still prolly have a big scary demon form, just not as big as a flaming swords with wings and eyes and a booming voice)

and going onto other demons, I can imagine reproduction is very diverse in the devildom. demons who are more reptilian, demons that are birds, cold blooded creatures, anything that wouldn't give live birth would lay eggs, do silly little dances to attract mates, look pretty to attract mates, ect. and obviously demons that are goats, cows, deer, cat, dog, would give live birth. so maybe nipples with demons are like freckles? some people have them and other people just dont.

BUT, then again, demons could have only 1-2 animals that relate to their sin, demons of Greed could be crows and foxes, envy is snakes and sea creatures, ect. but then again mephisto is a thing, and he's a demon of pride, so that would make him a peacock like lucifer, but with a lack of a canon demon form its hard to say, but mephisto already shares a hairstyle and boyfriend with lucifer so it would just be mean to have him share even more with him. but than again he could also be a lion? but I dont think that would fit that little gay rich boy at all. But I think it would just be more interesting if a demons form isn't always directly related to their sin so they can be any animal.

all in all, the only thing I think I could come to a conclusion with is that angels aren't mammals. and ofc they wouldnt gain nipples after becoming demons cause how odd would that be? "NOO MY SISTERS DEAD AND IVE BEEN CAST DOWN TO HELL- what are those things on my chest." and with demons it could probably vary from being mammals and not being mammals. but I could imagine its like, 80% of the devildom lays eggs and the other 20% doesnt. but all in all I think demons can do either or, it just depends on what they want to do, get freaky and then give birth or lay an egg and sit on it till it hatches, but I'm sure no demon would willingly give birth if they had the option to just pop out an egg.

or maybe its just my crack theory, two demons kiss and get freaky then 9 months later a baby pops out of thin air, magic baby!

[tenderleavesbob]

They were in Twilight's era when it happened. A familiar dark magic took over the field where the chain had been walking. Twilight barely had time to scream for the others to run before the magic swept over him. He had never expected to see it again, nor the monster it dumped in front of him.

Most of the heroes escaped in time. Twilight and Warriors had been leading the way, joking about Warriors stealing Twilight's girl and Twilight retorting that Epona had better taste than that. Warriors didn't have the chance to escape. Even as Twilight was forced to transform into his wolf form, he heard Warriors's pained, choked-off scream.

The others tried to join the fight. Twilight warned them off with a furious howl and baring of fangs before he threw himself into the battle. The shadow magic encircled the field, creating a fence with most of the chain on one side and Twilight, Warriors, and the monster on the other.

Twilight couldn't stop to check on Warriors. The other hero was on the ground. Twilight saw movement, so he thought Warriors was still conscious, but Twilight couldn't make out his new form and Warriors wasn't getting up. The first transformation was agonizing and a shock to the system, so Twilight was surprised he was conscious at all.

It didn't matter. He was in no shape to fight. If the monster reached Warriors...

The monster would not reach Warriors.

Twilight threw himself forward, nothing but teeth and claws and fierce, protective instinct. Black blood splashed on the ground. A slice from a long claw sent red blood joining it. Twilight didn't care. Warriors wasn't getting up, so Twilight fought for them both. That thing was not going to touch his brother.

When the monster faded, so did the shadows. Twilight stood in the middle of the field for a moment longer, fur bristling, snarling and growling, until Time called his name. It took another moment to shake off the lingering fury and limp to where the group circled Warriors.

Warriors was trying to get up, but it was awkward. He looked dazed and confused, and small, pained noises escaped him.

Warriors was also a very large owl.

Twilight lost every bet he made with himself.

Time looked away from Warriors to look over Twilight, but Hyrule was already there, murmuring soothing words as he healed Twilight's shoulder. Twilight licked his hand once in thanks. He crouched on his belly in front of Warriors.

"Captain," Twilight said softly. "Are you okay?"

Warriors had to have an almost six-foot wingspan, and he weakly flapped his wings now. His blue eyes carried over just like Twilight's had, and they looked odd in his tawny face. "Twilight? Twilight? What happened?"

He sounded lost. Twilight whined and licked Warriors's face. Warriors immediately snapped at him with his dangerous looking beak. Twilight pulled back. "You're fine!" Twilight said quickly. "There was shadow magic and you transformed. Sky can turn you back, no problem!"

Warriors squinted at him. It somehow looked more intimidating in this form than his human form. "You have your accent even as a wolf."

Twilight didn't know what to say to that. He excused himself to transform and explain the situation to Sky. From there, it was quick work to transform Warriors back.

Two horrific transformations in quick succession did it. Warriors stood on two human feet for two seconds and then passed out into Time's arms. Sky lunged forward and started checking his pulse and breathing.

"I wouldn't have expected an owl," Twilight said, because he had no idea what else to say.

"I would have bet on a cat," Legend admitted. He watched Sky and Time with Warriors like they might accidentally break him. It was cute how protective Legend could be sometimes.

"Cat."

"Cat."

"Dragon."

"You guys thought about this?"

"Warhorse."

Time and Sky settled Warriors on Twilight's back, the former gently wrapping Warriors's blue scarf around the man's neck before releasing him. "Mama cucco," Time murmured into Twilight's ear before stepping back.

Twilight smiled weakly at the other man and made sure that Warriors was steady on his back. Warriors breathed slowly against his neck and didn't sound like he was in pain. Twilight hoped that the sleep would help him recover.

He also hoped that Warriors would let him pet him if he transformed again. He had never pet an owl, after all.

[writingsofwesteros]

Cregan stark imagine pure fluff where you rhaenerys sister and marry to cregan and you’re know around the seven kingdoms to always being pregnant you have around 5 children already and the ones coming soon filled with dragon and wolf blood. Nobody dares to attack the targeryans as they know they have the wolfs with them as well as their dragons

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

“It seems your sister is with child.” The voice of Corlys moved into the war room of Dragonstone. His wife by his side. “Again..” Daemon’s voice joined the conversation as he lounged onto the chair; a book on his lap. A couple of chuckles were his response. It was no secret that the Targaryen Princess had many children.

“How many is that now?” Rhaenyra couldn’t help but ask. The letters were few and far between from her and Winterfell. Her sons’ ears moved as they heard about their aunt they wanted to learn more about. “This will be her sixth, Princess.” Corlys hummed as he moved to sit down. “Fuck.” Daemon muttered.

Rhaenyra chuckled as she took the letter being passed to her. “She always wanted a big family.” She whispered mostly to herself. A soft smile tugged on her lips as she thought of her darling sister. Daemon’s soft eyes followed. As much as his talk teased his niece; he was glad it had been a happy match.

He had worried about her being sent somewhere so cold. It seemed you had only blossomed. “She has invited us over.” Rhaenyra’s voice came over the room once more; she could hardly conceal her excitement. “Oh, can we go mother, please?” Luke began to babble now; his eyes so excited.

“It is very cold, my sweet and a long journey even with dragons.” Rhaenyra whispered; her fingers moving through her son’s curls. “It might be good, Princess. To see your sister again and you could rest there.” Rhaenys hummed and watched as the heir to the throne gently moved her hand over her stomach.

“It might be a good idea.” Daemon added and placed the book to one side as he slowly moved towards her. Rhaenyra leaned into his chest with her mind already made up.

~

“I believe we have much to prepare.” You whispered into Cregan’s ear. The furs covering you both even as the fire crackled in the distance. His larger hand moved to your stomach that had a small bump now. “They are coming to visit?” Your husband hummed; his eyes still shut as he rested.

You nodded your head as your hand slowly moved over his face; your fingers stroking his cheek. Gods, he was so handsome, you thought to yourself as those bright locks of yours fell down from the intricate braids. “We should leave the bed.” You giggled as the sun was slowly moving up now.

He only gumbled and kept you impossibly closer. “Cregan.” You whispered into his ear once more. Your soft lips moving over his neck as you began to pepper his face; your noses brushing together. The peaceful moment did not last long; it never did as the pitter patter of many feet began to move in.

“Mama…she pulled my hair..” The calls of their children easily echoed around the room now as Cregan groaned; hiding into the pillow. You only giggled and kept the covers up; hiding your bare bodies. “What are you all doing up?” You whispered; a soft smile coming over your face as three out of your five children came in. Your only two girls and a boy. 

“She pulled my hair.” Your youngest pouted once more whilst beginning to crawl onto the bed. “I did not.” You only blinked; knowing that they probably both pulled each other's hair. “This is your fault.” A faux gasp escaped him before chuckles sounded out. His eyes began to flutter open now. 

“Your children are here.” You hummed and gracefully pulled a fur cover with yourself and wrapped it around your body. “Oh, my children..” He teased you back much to the delight of your youngest ones. “I shall go and see where the rest of them are.” You hummed over your shoulder and watched happily as they moved into your husband’s sides. Their laziness all came from him.

“I shall see to the dragons.” You spoke over the changing area. Cregan only hummed and you rolled your eyes. The soft, fur covered white dress easily moved over your body even with the growing bump. You placed your bright locks in a loose braid down your back as you moved from the changing area.

Cregan was now awake and was sat up. Their conversations were hushed as you stepped closer. His hand reached for yours without breaking his moment with the children, which you adored. You leaned in and passionately captured his soft lips. “I love you.” He whispered into your ear.

“Are you eating with us tonight?” You gently asked; your fingers moving through your daughter’s hair. Usually your husband hunted with the other Northern Lords; proving for his family and theirs. “I will.” Cregan hummed; pressing a soft kiss to your jaw before you gracefully moved from the room; your hand on your stomach.

“Princess..” Your sworn shield bowed as you moved into the corridor. “Morning, do you know where my sons are?” 

“They are training, my Princess.” You nodded as he replied and you began to move through the corridors. Of course they were, you thought to yourself. A soft smile coming over your face as you thought of your oldest. Your first children; two delightful twins that were so much like their father.

The sounds of swords smashing together came over you as your smile only widened. “Should you not be asleep?” You hummed; walking over the viewing platform. Snow is already covering it and the floor below where your two boys fought. “No, mother..” Your oldest called up to you; getting hit in the process.

You moved your hand over your lips to hide the giggle coming over you. You watched as they chased each other around the courtyard whilst you moved gracefully down the stairs. Little children of the smaller Lords and Ladies came running over to you as always and you began to speak with them.

“Can we see the dragons?” One of the little girls asked and you could only giggle. “In a little while, sweet one. They must be sleeping.” You hummed. Your fingers moved over her locks for a moment before your sons were calling you once more. They were quite greedy for your attention. Something else they got from their father.

[unboundprompts]

Pirate Prompts Inspired by Songs

-> writing prompts from the lyrics of songs that give off pirate vibes. feel free to edit as you see fit.

"You ain't welcome 'round here anymore. You might as well go." - Hell's Comin' with Me by Poor Man's Poison

"Kick him in the head and throw him over." - Drunken Sailor by aeseaes

"Tear this place apart and leave not but a single shred. Tonight we'll be much richer men, tonight they'll all be dead!" - Side Quest by The dread Crew of Oddwood

"So, you want to be immortal with a loaded gun?" - Start a War by Klergy, Valerie Broussard

"He wiped the blood from his face as he slowly came to his knees. He said, 'I'll be back when you least expect it. And hell's coming with me."' - Hell's Comin' with Me by Poor Man's Poison

"I sold my soul to the calling." - Fire by Barns Courtney

"Abandon everything you know, sail with us and we'll show you what it means to be alive" - Abandon Ship by fin

"No second life, no second try." - Side by Side by Storm Seeker

"You line your pockets full of money that you steal from the poor." - Hell's Comin' with Me by Poor Man's Poison

"Dance my dear like the raging seas. Sway my ship until the sun rises. Spin like the wind like there was no tomorrow and the end was near." - Into The Night by Firkin

"Whisper your siren's song to every girl who comes along." - Vixen by Destroy Boys

"So much I have lost and so much I resent." - Only Us by Miracle Of Sound

"They didn't know him by his face, but by the gun around his waist." - Hell's Comin' with Me by Poor Man's Poison

"Pain is what you desire." - Start a War by Klergy, Valerie Broussard

"We've drunk a couple bottles and set our grief aside." - As the World Caves In by Matt Maltese

"Sold my soul to the barrel and the devil set me free." - Into The Night by Firkin

"I am the devil that you forgot." - Hell's Comin' with Me by Poor Man's Poison

"This is our ship, and we're your crew." - Abandon Ship by fin

"Let the sin we swim in drown us." - Only Us by Miracle Of Sound

"You sail among liars." - Start a War by Klergy, Valerie Broussard

"I'm dying to feel again, anything at all. But I feel nothing." - Gold by Imagine Dragons

"I know you're out there in the shadows." - Dear Fellow Traveller by Sea Wolf

"A pirate's life is hard to live, but the treasure will help, no doubt." - Side by Side by Storm Seeker

"Glory and gore go hand in hand." - Glory And Gore by Lorde

"We've got nothing left to lose." - The Captain's Dead by Paddy And The Rats

"Don't ask for me to lie then beg for forgiveness for making you cry." - Human by Rag'nBone Man

"If they think they're better still, I'll bring them to their knees." - Sticks and Stones by Ye Banished Privateers

"We lost a good ship to the depths." - The Voyage of the James Caird by Graeme James

"The rain and sea and storm winds crashed against our ship with wrath." - The Flying Dutchman by The Jolly Rogers

[misguidedasgardian]

The Hour of the Wolf (5)

V. Fire & Ice

MASTERLIST

Summary: You are settling in your throne 

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, smut! finally, I’m calling dub-con, because its their first time and we are nervous, loss of virginity, a bit of blood, and all that comes with it… nothing too extreme

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 4.3 k 

Notes: uffff things are getting heated

“I want my hair loose”, you said faintly, as the maids nodded with shy smiles, as they brushes your silver strands 

Your dress was magnificent

A black background with red and golden intricate designs, open sleeves from your shoulders that had a beautiful drop, a low neckline.

The jewelry was exquisite, your neck was decorated with a golden dragon that curled around you, your wrists and fingers with gold as well, in your heart finger, you had a ring that belonged to your mother. 

“Your grace”, called in Ser Erryk, “the Lord hand and Lord Celtigar, both want to see you”, you barely nodded.

Both men entered the room and you watched them through the mirror, as they saw you they stopped in their tracks, their mouths open, but they regained their composure quickly

“In this day your grace, we have something for you”, said Lord Celtigar, who had brought a beautifully decorated box with him. You turned around in your chair, to be presented with said gift.

Cregan stood behind him, giving him space, as Celtigar theatrically bowed, and opened the box and showed you the insides

You gasped when you saw it, tears threatening to fall as you covered your mouth

“How? Where did you find it?”, you asked, your throat in a knot

“A low-life was trying to sell it in the docks of Claw Island”, he said softly

Your mother’s… and well… Jahaerys’ crown

When your mother rebels and traitors swarmed the capital and threatened the life of your mother, she had to flee and hide all over the Crownlands… and to be able to return to Dragonstone, she had to sell the crown

A sad tale… but in the end…

They had brought it back to you

“You will be crowned with the crown of the conciliator”, said Cregan, “with your mother’s crown, and King Viserys and King Jahaerys before her”

“Thank you”, you murmured, a single tear scaping you

“You look gorgeous, your grace”, said Reysen

“Thank you”

“I’ll give the crown to the master of ceremonies”, muttered Cregan, and you only nodded

They left once more, and the maids kept brushing your hair 

“More reason to have my hair loose”, you said softly and they nodded with wide smile on their faces

You were nervous, to say the least, it had been a long, nerve-wrecking week, in which you had met so many people you barely remember their faces, they had asked much things from you

And now you were getting crowned 

Once you were ready, you asked the maids to leave, and they did

You watched yourself in the mirror, as tears started pouring down your cheeks

“Gods!”, you cried, falling to your arms folded over the dresser

You would give all of this in a heartbeat to have them back… at least one of them… only one… luke…. or Jace… or your mama

The door opened but you didn’t want to see who it was, you waiting for whoever it was to leave, but that didn’t happen

You felt two strong hands grab you and turn you, and in a second your face was against a soft velvet vest, a hand in your hair

“Shhh, everything is alright”, you whined when you heard it was cregan, hugging you tightly, “it’s all alright, I’m right here, with you…”

“I wish they were here”, you whined like a little girl

“I know, I know”, he whispered against the top of your hair

“I would give everything”, you insisted, like he was the god of death capable of doing such exchange 

“I know”, he repeated softly, “they are ready for you, my sweet queen, it’s time… to make everyone proud up there, to shout to all corners of the seven kingdoms, that you, the last dragon, are still here, in honor of your mother, and your older brother”, you barely nodded, finally raising your head to look at him

“To tell all those sons of bitches that the blacks won. and you are alive and well, and they lost…”, you smiled as you wiped your tears. “I’m going to be there, by your side, or behind you, wherever you need me, i’m here…”

You needed him, Cregan realized, and not only to help you rule the kingdom, no, you needed him in a more intimate way… you were only a young woman, who lost everything, he had agreed to marry you, appealing to the power both of you held, but he could tell, that was not enough, in the intimacy you were both going to have, you were going to need more

So he leaned in, and kissed you

Just a peck, on the lips, as he held you softly by the face, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs, you leaned in gently, softly, and when you parted, he could see it in your eyes

In your still innocent eyes

You needed more from him…

You needed a husband, and a protector, a defender, a champion, a knight in shining armor…

And he was going to pick up that mantel

When Cregan stood up and give his back to you to open the door and start the procession, you touched your lips that were still warm, and smiled gently

Your first kiss… your first real kiss…

Cregan turned back to you and offered you his hand, you took it without thinking.

He had proved once again you could lean on him with ease, he was not going to turn on you, or judge you, or tell anyone… from this day forwards, he was in this with you, by your side… as your partner, as your King consort and Hand, as your husband in a few weeks, as your everything

The very thought frightened and excited you at the same time

He released you as soon as you came into the hallway, but you walked side by side, in complete silence, towards the throne room

The great doors were closed, and he looked at you intently

“I will take place by the throne, you will enter alone”, you barely nodded, “are you alright?”

“Yes”, you said shortly, he only nodded in turn, and he left you to enter the ceremony through one of the side passageways.

You just looked at the detail of the large wooden doors, playing with your fingers ahead of you

You were getting crowned, you were getting married soon, you were ruling a country because you were already of age… It was so many things… and you were alone at the top, with no senior to guide you, nobody you completely trusted… no… father or mother figure 

Only Cregan

You took a long breath

You weren’t even nervous… you were longing to get this over with, your hands were sweaty and your feet already hurt for the shoes even though beautiful 

Soon the music started, and the doors opened slowly, to reveal you to the room, people gasped and cheered for you, as you started walking slowly towards the end… towards…

The Iron throne

It was there, surrounded by spikes, melted swords of the enemies oft he house of the dragon

The cause of such bloodshed 

The cause of the annihilation of your family.

All those plots… from the greens, all that coin and gold, armies, and at the end

You smiled widely

The blacks had won, you had won, your mother’s blood will sit on the iron Throne

Screw them

If you could, you would dance over his graves… if only there were enough remains of them to bury…

You climbed both steps of stone before the throne, as discussed, and you turned to the people, a golden cape moving behind you

“Our new Queen!”, chanted Erryk

Your small council was there, the Grand maester brought, in a red velvet cushion, the golden crown of Jaehaerys The Old King

“With the crown of the conciliator, we crown you”, chanted the master of ceremonies, he took the crown, raised it for everyone to see, and then he turned to you and he placed it gently atop your head. It felt… good… the weight rather than bother you, it felt like it grounded you 

“Queen (Y/N) of house Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm, the last dragon, the unkillable, and like your ancestor before you… the conciliator”, he said firmly 

People applauded, cheered for you, as Cregan Stark moved forwards and took your hand softly, helping you up the treacherous steps until you sat on the Iron throne 

The throne was cold and uncomfortable under you, but you sat straight, holding onto the arm rests softly 

“Long live the Queen!”, he demanded of everyone, and again, they cheered and chanted your name for long minutes you thought were never going to end

After that was done, they paraded you to greet the people of Kinglanding that were gathered at the gates, with chants of your name, and everyone wanted to reach out to you…

There were so many people there, in the throne room, lords from houses you haven’t even heard of before, and the streets were packed, so packed, so many people screaming, reaching for you.

It came out of nowhere, you lost your footing, but before you could collapse, Creganw as there to grab you from your waist.

“The Queen, and future King consort of the Seven Kingdoms, Lord Cregan Stark!”, presented Eryk and then the people really lost it, screaming in delight, as the lords gasped behind you inside the walls of the Red Keep

Soon the doors to the exterior closed, and you were again inside the safety of the castle, With Cregan by your side, grabbing you by the waist.

“The marriage will take place in a week”, said Cregan to the new founded court, and everyone clapped once again, some of themes haring looks of concern amongst one another

Then he looked at you

You haven't discussed this, not at all

He had made that decision for you 

You didn’t know what to think or feel 

“So soon?”, you asked when you had him by your side, in the banquet for the celebration of your coronation

“Yes, everyone is here”, he said gently, “there had been rumors… of me… of us, gathering at late hours, I think is better to do it as soon as possible”, he said gently, you barely nodded

You had barely turn ten and eight a few moons ago, alone, trapped in your room

You took a shaky breath

Yes, you needed to get married, but you never thought it was going to be this soon! You talked about it, you understand the need, and that night when you summoned Cregan to your rooms, you knew it was happening

But one week?

You only stole looks at Cregan and you nodded, you then turn to your left, to your baby brother, who smiled softly at you, but the smile, just like yours, didn’t quite reach his eyes

He had seen so much

You too

Aegon didn’t even let you cover his eyes when he had his dragon eat your mother alive before your very eyes, and his eyes

Your brother was traumatized for life and there was nothing you could do to help him

One time, a few days ago, you tried to take him flying with you…

You had to hide the claw marks he left in your arms. He had scratch you to release him, in the midst of screeches and cries as soon as he saw your dragon in the distance

He was terrified of them now

“What’s on your mind?”, you heard Cregan ask beside you, you barely looked at him

“My baby brother”, you confessed, there was no point in lying 

You looked around the room and you found all of the great houses dining and feasting, all of them but two

The Hightowers and the Velaryons

You took a long breath

Corlys as Baela had requested audiences with you, and you had denied them

You didn’t hate Baela, nor Rhaena, she had a dragon egg now… but…

It was bitter

You had lived with them since you were about ten, when your mother married Daemon, they were, for some time, your step-sisters, and even that, they were… your aunts? you didn’t even know… 

But seeing them got you a bittersweet sentiment, perhaps because they were the survivors of all this madness, alongside with you… but the truth you would admit to yourself late at night… is that you would have traded them for your brothers anyday

You were resentful, that they were the ones to survive and not your siblings…

They had a life ahead of them, a grandfather that literally killed a King for them, to guide them and protect them

A man that betrayed your mother

She had grown resentful and paranoid, yes, but he turned his back on her when she needed him the most

You didn’t believe you could forgive him.

You were not a Velaryon, not by blood, and now, that you become Queen, not by name either… he never treated you as one, so that was it

You wanted to keep him at arm’s length 

But you didn’t even realized… that there was another house absent front he festivities

You were glad to see the capital boasting with life, like the days of old, like when you wee young and you were living in the good days of your grandfather King Viserys

A tourney had been organized, as competitions and festivities, and even though you found it dreadful, there you were… granting so many favoors you had your ladies and even servants braiding new ones each hour….

Perhaps all the knights in there, at least, most of them, asked for your crown of red roses and dark green leaves and golden feathers.

At the end, you were crowned the Lady of Love and Beauty by the winner, a Knight from the Vale. You watched your small council closely, and they all seemed pleased

Telling constantly how much the people were taking to you, how much they loved you even

Their new, young, beautiful Queen

The bards were singing songs about your beauty and your strength, no doubt they had been paid handsomely to do so

You felt… powerful

You sat in the most dangerous yet important seat of the realm, you had the last grown dragon on earth. 

You felt good, in control… until…

Until the day of your wedding.

Cregan had not accepted a marriage in the Sept, he did not follow the faith of the seven, and neither did you, so you accepted to be married in the godswood, by the heartree

It was going to create controversy, the small council said

But fuck the faith, the seven pointed star, and the heraldry that replaced all the dragons in the capital thanks to Alicent fucking HIghtower, and that you had already commanded to replace back to the likeness of your own dragon, and the three headed dragon of your house 

You were waiting for one word, one revolt, one bad new from the citadel to burn it to a crisp… luckily, it had been none

You thought they knew it as well, that you were looking for an excuse to do the same thing Maegor the cruel did

So the day of your wedding came quickly.

And as the maids braided your hair in a Northerner style, then, you felt nervous. Truly, nerve wrecking nervousness makes your hands shake.

You were about to be married… to Cregan Stark

A rough, authoritative man,a handsome and strong man, a man who was going to go back and forth and leave you for months at a time, perhaps years, but…

“Everything is going to be alright”, murmured the sweet maid, one that had served you since you were a child, manage to survive the Greens, she smiled at you through the mirror

“Thank you”, you whispered

“He is a kind man, and I have no doubt he will care for you”, she said with a complacent smile, and you only smiled widely 

“I know he will”

“If you’d allow me, your grace… your mother would have been proud”, she said then, and that brought tears to your eyes

“Thank you”, you cried with a smile on your face

You had married an entire continent last week, promising to give your life in service to the crown and the countries that were under your reign, and now… you were going to give your body… to another

To a man

Septas had taught you what you needed to know -according to them- about marriage, of how a woman must serve her husband, about you had to lay on your shared bed and let him do what he needed to do, bed you, breed you, how it was a woman’s job to have his husband’s children and heirs…

Of course you were nine at the time, your mother when she found out dismissed the Septa, fought hard with Alicent, saying that over her dead body she was going to allow the Old Queen to take charge of your education ever again

That was fun to watch, scary, but fun, to see your mother so protective and angry

And then you discovered “how babies were made”, by not by your mother in a nice chat or anything really, you discovered it the funny way, with your brothers and stepsisters, sneaking off the Castle in Dragonstone and going to the town, following soldiers to pleasure houses, then you were thirteen 

And then stealing racy books from the library 

But this was no time to think about that

You stood up, already dressed, your hair done, no much jewelry, only a nice beautiful white dress, yes it was the wedding of the Queen, but you had been celebrating your coronation for a week now, the Kingdoms had just been through a gruesome war, it was not fair, for them, for you to spend so much

Your wedding, a banquet afterwards, and baskets filled with food that were to be distributed through the streets of King’s Landing

And Cregan… well

He was nervous as well, more like, getting it over with already…

The sooner you settled in, with the throne and in your marriage, the better 

He fixed the silver velvet vest on him, and the large gold chain they had made him wear, it was a warm day, and his pants, he felt them too tight, as he was waiting for you in the Godswood. Was he doing the right thing?

He was going to be in the depths of one of the things he hated the most…

Politics

When he gathered his army and marched south in search of “justice”, this was not what he expected, to the the second most powerful person in all the realms

It was a constant thought, he never, in a million years, would hope he was going to end up here, waiting for…

He raised his head when they announced you

There you were

All his doubts disappeared

You looked… breathtakingly beautiful, positively godly

Not intimidating, like an empress of an old dynasty on the day of your coronation, now… you looked like the embodiment of a god of the waters or snow itself, made flesh… Dressed in a beautiful white dress, no much finery but only you, your hair arranged in a 

Northerner way that made him smile. Now his pants were truly tight

Tyland Lannister was escorting you

As soon as he had you within grasp, he grabbed your hands and accommodated you by his side, facing his commander of his army, an old man from house Mormont. 

“Who comes before the old Gods on this day?”, asked the tall man

“(Y/N), of House Targaryen”, presented Tyland, with his deep voice, summoning complete silence from everyone present. “She comes here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn, and noble. She comes to beg for the blessing of the Gods, who is here to claim her?”, he asked almost defiantly, looking at Cregan, who took a step forward

“I Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, I come here this day before the gods, to claim this lady, who gives her away?”, he asked

“I, Tyland Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, and Warden of the West”, he said firmly, releasing you right next to Cregan, you both looked at him and smiled, and then turned to the man presiding the ceremony

“My lady, (Y/N) of House Targaryen, do you take this man?”, he asked

“Yes”, you answered, it came more gently than you expected, “I take this man”, you said loudly and almost enthusiastically, and you felt people chuckling, and bit your lip, embarrassed. But the man presiding the ceremony smiled at you, and your now husband, grabbed your hand in his big one

“So Cregan Stark, take your wife, Lady (Y/N) now, of House Stark”, he said, and Cregan was on you in a second, he cradled your face in one of his hands, you looked up at him and your eyes met his, just for a second before you closed them since he leaned in and trapped your lips into his. You tried to relax into the kiss, your second kiss ever, with now your husband

Those closest, members of courts and Lords and Ladies from the noblest houses applauded, the gardens filled with all of them, you separated from Cregan and greeted them 

“My beautiful lady wife”, he whispered in your ear, making you smile at him

Gods he was handsome, especially with hat devilish smile

And you were married to him

Despite your secret wishes, the day went incredibly fast, and before you knew it, you were being led to your chambers… not the King’s… meaning yours, but others… Cregan’s… tonight, you were not a Queen, but a lady wife, the way it was supposed to be

The small council, and others Lords and Ladies followed you closely, but as soon as you were inside the room, Cregan stood up, shielding you from them 

“Out”, he demanded, surprising you

“But my lord… the bedding ceremony…”, stammered Tyland

“I don’t care”, he said, and you then stepped out…

“No bedding ceremony”, you said firmly, and that was enough for them to leave you alone

Alone with your husband…

You looked at him nervously, he turned softly, to look at you.

You looked around in turn, recognizing these rooms immediately, these were the rooms Cregan was using now, but before they belonged to…

He moved slowly, his eyes on you, you looked back at him

“If this marriage is going to work, I need to make something very clear”, he said seriously, he came at you quickly, and grabbed you, his hand was so big against you that with only one he placed it at the side of your neck and face, he grabbed you softly but decisively, and make you look at him, “out there, you are the Queen, but here? inside this room? as soon as you step inside, you are mine”, he growled, and he smirked when he saw your pupils enlarged, “you are my dutiful lady wife, mine to command, mine to guide, mine to bed, mine to breed, am I clear?”, he asked with an authoritative voice that made your legs shake, you nodded, your eyes not leaving his, but they betrayed you. You were a bit scared of his words. He caressed your cheek, “mine”, he said, this time more softly, “mine to cherish, mine to care for, mine to love, mine to make love to…”, your eyes shined with excitement then and you smiled brightly at him 

“Love?”, you asked as you were a little girl

“Would you like all those things?” He asked, his playfulness and rough eyes returning to him as he made you tilt your head back slightly. You managed to nod

 “Your words, my love”

“Yes Cregan”, you whispered 

“Inside this room, I’m your Lord husband”, he commanded severely

“Yes my lord husband”, you corrected quickly 

“Good girl”, he leaned on and trapped your lips on his on a fervent kiss, you were barely able to catch up, the third time you had kissed Cregan… this time was different, this time, there was nothing to prevent you from… escalating the kiss

“Do you want to consummate the marriage now?”, he asked, and you barely nodded, “your words wife”

“yes husband”, you barely said, looking into his eyes, he only smile, but didn’t kiss you again, his lips instead, traveled south 

You moaned softly, feeling his lips suck on a very tender spot in your neck

“In this room, we are husband and wife only, only us, two people, joined for life”

“Only us”, you whispered, with expert hands, he undoed your dress, letting it fall to the floor, he even undressed himself, as you didn’t even know where to start. He didn’t push you, he did all the work, as you were so nervous, terribly nervous.

He laid you on the bed covering you with his large body.

He kissed everywhere he could reach, he caressed your skin, making you shiver, moan, and spread your legs even further for him… You didn’t even know someone else could make you feel like this…

You tried to caress him in turn, his upper arms, his shoulders, his side, his mouth returned to yours, as his fingers worked you open for him…

The voice of the septa wouldn’t stop resounding in your head… you laid there, let him do his things, you wouldn’t know what to do anyways… and in turn… he made you feel the most exquisite pleasure… that you had never felt before…

When he entered you, you dropped a few tears from the sudden and sharp pain, but then, after he soothed you and gave you time to adjust to his size… he fucked you slowly, delicately, gently, holding you in his arms, and kissing all over your face and neck

You could tell he was holding up… from doing more things to you… but if only that night, he was exactly what you needed.

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