#rickon stark. || study.

[imaginarianisms]

thinking about how rickon stark at such a young age when he was like literally six years old (& literally three years old but our asoiaf munchkins are aged up like the show is & even then six is insanely young thats still a baby thats like literal preschool to just starting school age. lmao) was literally in the deepest, darkest parts of the crypts of winterfell for DAYS in the pitch black with no tapers, no candles, no lamps & no lights & with no fear & didn't even come back up. like. how many kids do you know that can do that lmao. thats the equivalent of like leaving a kid alone in a cemetery in the middle of the night in pitch black w/ no lights. for the vast majority of the time nobody knew where rickon or shaggydog was in winterfell. & not only that, at his very young age, at age 6-7 (age 4 in the books) he TAUGHT HIMSELF TO VOLUNTARILY WARG into shaggydog AT WILL before bran or jon or arya ever did & he didn't even have jojen reed let alone anyone to teach him. & not to mention when he gets hurt it doesn't even bother him. when he & the twin freys were playing, one of the walders hit him HARD. he gets OBLITERATED. & in a flash shaggydog got PISSED & then rickon just started LAUGHING HYSTERICALLY. that's a TOUGH little dude. most kids his age would be on the floor crying when they're hit in the chest by a kid more than twice his age. & THEN from THAT MOMENT ON the walders were basically rickon disciples lmao. they were more than twice his age & they would follow him all around the castle & he would use them to get stuff done. & he basically had free reign of the kitchens & stealing the cakes & meat & doing whatever he wants & getting these much older kids to do what he wants them to do which indicates even at his young age he's got leadership qualities. that's like a kid in late preschool to JUST starting elementary school & having all these 5th & 6th graders wanting to be his friend lmao. he was FEARLESS at such a young age & shaggydog made him fearless.

he also had more time to bond with his direwolf because he wasn't in a coma & was also being completely neglected because ned had gone south with sansa & arya, robb was busy at winterfell with everything going on & he was only a teenager himself & he even told his mother to care for rickon, too, bc he'd follow him around everywhere crying, he'd refuse to let anybody cut his hair, maester luwin had no idea where he was most of the time so half of the entire winterfell guard was out here looking for this kid after catelyn left, bran, her favorite son who she didn't want him to leave winterfell, was in a coma & catelyn neglected her household duties out of grief & ignored rickon (as well as robb, & didnt even say goodbye to ned, sansa or arya when they left for king's landing) completely so in his state of neglect he bonded even moreso with his direwolf. & he's this tiny little kid that's full of rage. like. everyone left him. his father left him & his mother left & he's not forgiving her. like. this kid is severely traumatized has next level anger inside of him for someone his age to the point where he PULLS A SWORD on maester luwin & sics his direwolf on him. this is a teeny tiny fuckin kid, this is a tiny lil dude & this kid is just fierce as FUCK.

& not to mention he says some really prophetic shit too. when robb leaves & bran says they'll be back, rickon states "no they won't". & that's not a question; that was a statement. & that wasn't in a frightened child way. in his mind, his father left & his mother left & robb left & his family abandoned him & never came back & he's never going to see his father, his mother or his oldest brother ever again. this kid's been in winter his whole life. & how shaggydog is pitch black & has green eyes in contrast with jon's direwolf ghost who is white as snow & has red eyes & literally no other direwolf has ever been recorded to look like that & the old gods have specifically made them look like that to be the most magically gifted. his role is going to be crazy magical. he's not gonna run into a straight line & die like the show does lmao. & not to mention osha who knew all about skinchangers because she's beyond the wall & on skagos they're closer to the free folk culturally than they are to the northmen. so like when davos brings this kid back this kid is gonna be insanely powerful, like varamyr sixskins on steroids. this kid's gonna have this gigantic black direwolf shaggydog, a unicorn, flocks of eagles & families of polar bears & shadowcats & herds of mammoths & packs of wolves all at once. he would be the living embodiment of the children of the forest of old. & so like. even when rickon by the winds of winter-a dream of spring is like. 13. thats still insanely young. like. elementary school level kid.

[wodania]

stark to tully pipeline. rickon has been evicted bc i can’t comprehend him. it says cheekbones but the starks still have their baby fat in this diagram.

(black hair not block hair)

[entitled-fangirl]

Flames in snow.

Cregan Stark x Velaryon!reader

Summary: the reader and Jace go to Winterfell to gain the support of the North. Cregan is not the same little boy they met all those years ago. But his son is quite similar to his father: his hair, his eyes, his love for the reader.

A/n: based on an ask! also... part 2 in the future?

Masterlist

..................................................

"Prince, Princess," Cregan acknowledged as the Valeryon siblings entered the Hall. 

Jace grinned, his sister trailing behind him.

Cregan had not seen the family in what felt like eons, when they were small children. Now, they were adults. 

Though life had been cruel to them, it did not show. 

"Lord Stark," Jace said in a cheery notion. "I thank you for your hospitality. We are most grateful that you have housed our dragons."

Cregan nodded, stepping to them. "The honor is mine. It is not often that the future of the realm steps through Winterfell's threshold."

Cregan didn't miss the way the young woman's brow quirked up at his choice of words.

"We come in the name of Queen Rhaenyra," Jace clarified, not bothering with small talk again. "The rightful heir to the Iron Throne."

Cregan looked confused, and Y/n finally spoke up. 

"Prince Aegon Targaryen II has usurped our mother's throne."

"And you are asking me if I will help fight your war, Princess?" Cregan quirked. 

She nodded.

"Let us not discuss such heavy matters while the dragon riders remain weary. Rest, and we will discuss further on the morrow."

…

The Princess walked the long halls of Winterfell, exploring it herself as the sun began to set. 

She paused her steps when she heard a small cry.

Though she was no mother, instinct kicked in, and she began to locate where it was coming from.

And she found it.

On the floor of the corridor was a young boy, not older than four. He sat and cried, the smallest bit of blood running from his knee.

She moved to him, lowering herself to the ground, "Let me see."

The boy looked up with puffy eyes, letting the woman help. 

A servant rounded the corner, her eyes widening at the sight, "Princess, please… allow me-"

"-That is quite alright. I have it handled." She declined politely. She turned back to the boy, "And what is your name?"

The boy sniffled, "R…Rickon."

Rickon. 

She'd heard that name before.

In her studies from childhood. 

Rickon Stark, the past Lord of Winterfell.

This was Cregan's son.

She let out a breath, "Oh… that's… that's a lovely name. My name is Y/n."

She helped the boy stand and the two walked slowly to the boy's chambers.

"Am I going to lose my leg?" He asked with a sniffle.

"Heavens, no. It takes much worse to best a Stark. Do you believe a mere scrape would take down your father?"

He shook his head, "Papa is strong." He gained a sudden enthusiasm, "One time, he fought a wolf! And… and he took his sword," he mimicked the motion, "and he drove it through its heart!" He looked back up to her. "Have you ever done that?"

She shook her head, "I can't say I have. I don't have a sword."

"Oh, yeah." He said glumly. "You're a girl."

She tilted her head, "Well… I may not have a sword, but I have my own weapon." She paused dramatically, "I have a dragon!"

The boy's eyes lit up, "A dragon?! Papa does not have a dragon."

"Only children with dragon blood get a dragon. You, young Stark, have wolf blood in you. That's something of importance as well."

Finally at his chambers, he slumped in one of the chairs, "But it's not like a dragon."

"No," she countered. "But if everyone had the same blood, what would make each of us special?" She grinned as she kneeled in front of his chair. "You know, dragon blood gets quite cold up here. Do you get cold, Little Lord Stark?"

He frowned and shook his head. 

"Exactly. Wolf blood does not get as chilled."

"Is your dragon here?"

She nodded.

"Can I meet him?"

"Her, sweet boy. Silverwing is a girl."

"Can I meet her?"

She tilted her head, "Maybe before I leave. Until then, let me clean you up and put you to bed."

So caught up in the conversation, he had forgotten his little scrape entirely.

…

"Might I be curious enough to ask why the Princess is roaming the castle at so late of an hour?" Came a voice.

She jumped, turning to see Lord Stark standing with a small grin on his face. "Pardon me. It's not my place to wander."

"It's quite alright. My home is yours for as long as you'll have it."

She nodded, unsure of what to say to the man.

"You've grown," he finally said.

A soft giggle escaped her throat. "We are not children anymore, my lord. I'm afraid we'll never be."

"Aye. But I dare say that is not a bad thing." He tried to hide the way his eyes flit over her frame. His body naturally stepped towards her.

"I… I was quite saddened to hear of the loss of your wife."

Cregan nodded, taking another step. "I know. You wrote me. Remember?"

A warm smile came across her face. "I'm starting to. I do not remember what I said-"

"- 'May there be warmth in the cold, and flames in snow. May you be bundled in comfort anywhere you go. If not, I will ride with my dragon high, to bring it myself when the time is nigh.' "

Her smile faltered a bit, "You remember that so clearly?"

Cregan's felt his heart jolt. "I've always remembered you clearly."

An involuntary breath left her throat. 

The two stared at one another, an obvious tension coming over them. 

"I… I shall return to my chambers," she finally whispered. 

Cregan snapped from his trance and nodded, backing away from her, "Aye. Sleep well, Princess."

"Good night."

…

Things seemed to repeat themselves, because she found Rickon again in that same hall as before. 

"Lord Rickon?"

Rickon's head turned and his face lit up.

Y/n sat next to him, looking at what he had to play with.

It was wooden horses, through beaten from its time in the little boy's hands, they were carefully carved. 

Someone made them with care.

"Might I play with you?" She asked nicely.

A horse was thrusted into her hand.

"Papa does not play with me. He does not want to," Rickon finally said.

"That's not true, boy," she tried to reason. "Your father is just… needed by many people."

"I need him."

She felt a pain in her chest at the boy's honesty.

She understood the feeling very well.

"One day, little lord, you will be just as needed as him, and you will understand. Until then, I'm afraid there's little to help ease the pain."

"You help."

A noise almost escaped her throat. "Yes, but… I am not here forever."

The young boy sighed. 

"I wish you could be."

…

The three stood around a table, trying to come to an agreement on an alliance. 

"I have troubles of the other side of the Wall to consider, my prince. I cannot afford to turn my back to it with winter approaching."

Jace sighed, "What good would guarding the Wall do if there is nothing to protect?"

"Jace," Y/n butted in, "Be reasonable."

Jace turned to her, "Sister, the queen needs an army."

"So does the Warden. He knows his people's needs better than us."

"Thank you, Princess," Cregan offers. His gaze stays on her for a second too long. "I have 2,000 graybeards at your disposal. They've seen far too many winters."

"And you'll not march with them?" Jace asked in frustration.

"I will stay until the time is right," Cregan countered. 

"Stay with Rickon, you mean?" Y/n asked softly. "You're staying behind for him, yes?"

Cregan's eyes mixed with confusion and surprise. "You…"

She flushed. "Perhaps that was too forward of me, my lord. Forgive me."

"No, you…" his eyes softened, as well as his voice. "You are the one he has been discussing so gleefully?"

The confusion shifts to her, "I'm sorry?"

"Rickon, he," Cregan lets out a soft scoff. "He has been completely enamored with someone. I didn't know who it was, I assumed a servant."

Jace turns to her, "What is he speaking of?"

"I have indeed interacted with the boy, but it has not been that life changing for him surely-"

"-My Princess, Rickon speaks of no one but you."

Rickon ran through the doors, going straight to Cregan.

Cregan abandoned the table to catch his son, raising him up in the air, "Good morning, my boy."

Rickon giggled and squirmed in his father's hold.

Cregan let him down and ruffled his hair, "Go on, Rickon. Your papa has business he must discuss."

"You will not play with me?" Rickon pouted.

The tough lord of Winterfell let out a soft breath. "Forgive me, son. Not this morning."

Rickon's eyes flit to her, and they brighten, "Will you play with me?"

"Son, that is the princess you speak to. She has little time for such things."

"No, my lord," she interrupted. "I'd… I'd quite like the change of scenery. This talk to war is getting to my head. Perhaps chats of horses will be better."

Rickon's eyes light up, and he quickly grabs her hand and drags her from the room to play.

Jace is left in bewilderment. "I had no idea."

"Neither did I."

…

A few hours later, Cregan came to collect the two.

He found them in the courtyard. 

"Rickon!" He called out.

The boy's head shot up and he gathered his things and ran to his father. 

Cregan ran a hand through Rickon's hair, noting the way the princess watched the interaction from afar. "Go wash up."

Rickon went to move, then paused. 

"Can princesses live in Winterfell, Papa?"

Cregan froze. "Why do you ask, boy?"

"The princess should live here."

Cregan smiled, "You like to play with her that much?"

"She's my favorite." And with that, Rickon went into the castle.

The princess stood, seeing Rickon leave and Cregan approach. "My lord."

"Please, princess. I would prefer you call me by my name."

"Yes, my lord."

He tilted his head.

"Cregan."

He grinned at her correction, "Much better."

Her gaze moved downwards towards the object in her hand.

Cregan followed and his breath hitched. 

One of Rickon's horses. 

"He ran off before I could return it," she admitted. 

Her fingers ran over the mane of it, and Cregan felt a fire ignite within him, but he pushed it down to speak. "There is time to return it."

"You carved it."

Cregan's head tilted, "What?"

She held it up, "You carved this. Surely you did."

He reached up and took it from her, sucking in a breath with their fingers brushed. He studied the beat up toy, as if recalling a memory. "Aye. I did."

"It's beautiful work," she commented. "You've always… been gifted."

He felt his ears turn a shade of pink. "I thank you, Princess."

When silence fell over the two, Cregan continued. "When I leave Rickon, and I journey to the Wall, I whittle these little things. It gives me something to do, and in turn, gives him a reason to want me home."

"He wants you home regardless."

Something in him broke. 

"I know."

She placed her hand over his. "You're doing the right thing."

"Then why is it so damn difficult?"

She wasn't sure what to say to that.

But she didn't miss the way his fingers shook under hers, and his eyes taking her in as if something had dawned on him.

…

The two had avoided one another after that, only speaking when necessary. 

But it all came to a close on their last day in Winterfell.

"I have a final proposition, Prince Jacaerys."

Jace's head shot up, "Name it."

"I remain Warden, the North keeps its independence as is…"

Jace was on the edge of his seat. "And?"

Cregan smiled. "I have the princess's hand."

Y/n's shoulders stiffened from beside her brother. "W…What?"

"I want your hand, Princess."

Jace was just as confused. "You… You've not stated these intentions before."

"I understand that, but that does not mean they were not there. She would make a beautiful Lady Stark."

"Cregan," she reasoned. "I could not possibly-"

"-These are my conditions." He said it persistently.

"Cregan, this is my sister we speak of, do not-"

"-Jace. Let me speak with Lord Stark."

Jace looked between the two, then excused himself.

When the door was closed, she began to speak. "What are you doing?"

"I am being sincere, my princess. I want you as my wife."

And sincere he was. Hope shone in his eyes as he looked to her. She gave a hinted smile, "And you're sure?"

His eyes shone brightly. "I've never been more sure of something in my life. You bring a light to my boy, and you're a light to me."

"Cregan, this war-"

"-You will fight with your mother, as you wish, and return to me in Winterfell when the time is right."

She studied him for a while, making him sweat despite the constant chill of his home. 

"I'm happy to marry you, Cregan. For our houses. For your son," she paused to take a breath. "For you."

A wide smile spread across his face. "You've done me a great service."

"It is not service to me," she smiled. "It is not a duty or sacrifice. It is what I want."

"Rickon shall be overjoyed."

"I'd rather you be the overjoyed one in this moment."

Cregan grinned again and moved to her, wrapping his arms around her. His voice lowered, "Trust me, I am." He paused, "You've come through on your promise, you know."

She tilted her head to look at him, "And what is that?"

" 'Flames in snow,' " he grinned as his lips brushed against hers, "You've brought me comfort in multitudes."

......................................

A/n: I have some good ideas for part 2

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

[spxllcxstxr]

Being Eddard Stark’s Second Wife • Headcanon

(Gif not mine)

Request: Eddard Stark second wife headcanon? ❤️❤️❤️ -m — anon

Warnings: fem!reader, heavy canon divergence, mention of dying in childbirth (not reader, no other mention of pregnancy/having children), assumed age gap? Ned stark being THE man <3

A.N: I feel like these are a little short but I actually like this one! I love Ned so much so these were also just fun to write…I hope you like them! :) also I always struggle to find more diverse gifs along these romantic lines and I’m so sorry about that, my works are always inclusive

•

You marry Ned Stark after Catelyn dies delivering Rickon, her youngest

Ned certainly did not believe that he would marry again, he was incredibly heartbroken by the death of his wife

Additionally, he now had to look after 6 children and be the Lord of Winterfell

Even though he had servants and teachers and maesters to look after his children and keep them preoccupied, he was still stretched very thin due to stress and lack of sleep

You had been a close friend to the Starks even before Robb was born; some daughter of a lesser known Northern house who had come to Winterfell for a change of scenery

Despite your lower ranking, Ned and Catelyn became close friends of yours

When Catelyn died Ned’s grief almost consumed him; but you were his light in the deep and dangerous darkness that had fallen over his life

While throughout the many years of knowing Ned you occasionally felt a spark, not love, but it certainly wasn’t platonic, you pushed it down, never rushing anything that would harm your friendship and Catelyn in particular

Becoming Ned’s second wife is a gradual process

Ned comes to you almost every day, whether it is due to his grief or to ask your opinion on something, you become even closer than you were before

It takes maybe around 2 or 3 years of mutual pining for the two of you to really acknowledge what’s going on

Robb, Jon, and Arya definitely have a hand in this, they’re old enough to see what’s going on, they certainly drop hints to the two of you

“Tell me, my Lady, why I cannot stop thinking about you…”. He takes off his gloves, just to place his rough palm gently on your cheek. “You are the first thing in my mind when I wake, and the last thing when I finally succumb to sleep.”

“Ned…”

“If you do not feel the same tell me now, before I kiss you,”

The kiss is obviously what starts it, and the wedding comes very quick after that

Ned is very protective of you

With anything

He knows how harsh the Northern wind is, so he makes sure you have the finest furs and the warmest boots

Even if you say you’re fine he will insistently add another layer onto you

He does it with a grin on his face and a kiss on the forehead

Ned loves you so much

He will also teach you how to defend yourself

He is already teaching his children so training you isn’t a problem, he doesn’t like to think about it, but he knows there might come a day where he may not be able to protect you from the evil things of Westeros (or beyond)

His kids are mostly used to you before you end up marrying him

Sansa is really the only one to have a bigger issue with her father taking a second wife but she quickly warms up to you

You know you aren’t their mother and you try not to smother them like you are, but you are protective of them as if they were your own

Ned loves watching you help them with their studies or their interests

He’s seen you sneakily teach Arya how to punch properly

And Sansa’s needlework has improved since you moved into the castle

He adores how you treat Jon no differently than the others, Catelyn always did. He doesn’t blame her, he had to lie to her, but it warms his heart to see you act so kind to him

Ned is a loving husband and he shows that to you every day

He’s always gentle towards you and respects your opinions and what you have to say

He’s truly #NotLikeOtherMen lmao

•

[libraryoffandomsuniverse]

the root of the root and the bud of the bud

Series masterlist

Not a drabble this time, but my headcanons about Rhaenyra and Reader's children! Don't worry, more fics are in the works.

Possible spoilers for future events in this series. Fic title comes from one of my all time favourite poets, EE Cummings!!

Jacaerys

Daddy's boy. Follows Reader around and mimics his mannerisms almost unconsciously.

Has the lightest skin out of all the children - just a shade darker than Rhaenyra. He also has black hair like Rhaenys, and dark purple eyes.

He was crowned Queen of Love and Beauty by Baela after she entered a tourney in disguise.

His first daughter marries Gaemon and succeeds him as Queen. His second daughter married Cregan Stark's son Rickon.

Rider of Vermax.

Lucerys

Mama's boy.

Very affectionate, he'd often run up to his parents and attack them with kisses before running away to keep playing.

Also has Rhaenys' black hair but resembles Reader more than Rhaenyra.

He was devastated when he realised that him being the Lord of Driftmark meant that Reader and Corlys would be dead.

Him and Rhaena slept together before they were wed and their first child was born 7 moons after the wedding.

Rider of Arrax.

Baelon (canon Joffrey)

Looks exactly like Reader photocopied himself - there's nothing of Rhaenyra.

Becomes Daemon's squire and earns a reputation for being bloodthirsty.

He was a biter as a toddler until Luke bit him back. He stopped doing so after that.

Travels across the Seven Kingdoms to dispense the Queen's (and later King's) justice for Rhaenyra and Jace.

Summerhall was built for him.

Rider of Tyraxes.

Aegon

The quietest out of all the children.

Has Rhaenyra's hair, which he keeps very short.

Has sailed to Essos numerous times and has almost been captured by pirates twice.

Oversees the Stepstones.

Loves art, particularly painting.

A family man, prefers to spend his free time with his children.

Rider of Stormcloud.

Gaemon (canon Viserys II)

The tallest of Rhaenyra and Reader's sons and you bet he bragged about it.

Studied at the Citadel and earned 4 links.

Travelled widely across Essos and owns a manse in Volantis.

The first of Rhaenyra and Reader's children to not have an egg hatch in their cradle. He later claims Vermithor when he's five and ten.

Becomes Jace's Hand.

Marries Jace's oldest daughter and becomes King Consort like his father.

Visenya

Loves fashion and prefers to wear blue or pink.

She can speak several languages including the Summer Tongue.

Acted as Rhaenyra's scribe when the Queen was hearing petitions.

Both her and Aemma are doted on and spoilt by their brothers.

Knows self defence, but doesn't like getting dirty. She does have a interest in poisons though.

Rider of Tessarion.

Aemma

Visenya's fraternal twin. Rhaenyra and Reader thought there was only one baby so they were very surprised when another appeared.

She likes archery and always carries a dagger with her.

Acts as Jace's unofficial Master of Whispers during his reign.

She sings and plays the harp.

Although her cradle egg goes cold, she eventually claims Shrykos when she is six name days.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

The Other Sister || D. Targaryen x oc

GIF by @potpourri-of-ecclecticism DIVIDERS by @straywords

Summary: In which Elys’ older sister is to be wed to the Rogue Prince Daemon himself, however, the Prince’s gaze finds itself on her, and her only.

P.t 1 P.t 2 P.t 3 P.t 4

“House Stark would be most honoured, your Grace.” Rickon Stark nods his head at King Viserys, “Cunt” A certain silver haired man mutters under his breath making the others glance at the King’s younger brother.

“Daemon, this betrothal would most benefit you. Especially after the death of your late Lady wife.” Viserys reasons with his brother who rolls his eyes. “Save me from all this bullshit please brother, I don’t need another depressing and boring marriage. If you even call it that.” He points to Viserys who massages his temple.

“I assure you my Prince, that my eldest Elaena, will not make you feel such loneliness as you did with Lady Royce.” Rickon intervenes as Daemon glares at the man.

Silence grew in the room before Daemon’s voice cuts through, “Fuck this.” He abruptly stands up as he downs his drink, “Daemon-“ “Gaomagon daor ivestragon mirrors lēkia” He warns his brother as the others at the small council bow their heads as the prince leaves the room. (do not say anything brother)

~

“I can’t believe this sister!” Elaena squeezes Elys’ hand as she softly smiles at the elder. Her father had informed Elaena of the arranged betrothal to the King’s brother, Daemon. Of course this was to happen soon enough. Elys’ sister, just as she is, is a proper high born who studied her whole life to become the perfect wife, a Princess or Queen even.

But Elys on the other hand, she’d rather spend her time outside, exploring, training in combat, much to her older sister’s dismay who urged the younger to study with her in topics such as ‘Words to avoid to not provoke your husband’ and so on.

“I only hope he treats you rightly, Elaena” Elys squeezes her hand this time, “Elys-“ “We are here my daughters,” Their father interrupts as the two sisters stick their heads out the carriage to see the bustling court of the Red Keep.

Elys gave an encouraging smile at her sister as she descends the steps with her following behind, the royal family stood close by. “Lord Stark!” King Viserys welcomes as their father steps forward.

“Your grace, may I introduce to you my two daughters, Lady Elaena and Lady Elys” The two girls both curtsy and offer a smile at the King who smiles too. Viserys was accompanied by his young wife, his heir and his kingsguard.

The younger Stark couldn’t help but notice the absence of a certain silver haired man, as did her father and sister. Catching on to the awkward silence, Viserys clears his throat before speaking, “Please excuse Daemon Lady Elaena, he has yet to come back from his duty at Dragonstone” He offers her a smile.

Being the well mannered and taught lady she was, she smiled politely before responding, “Of course your Grace, he is a prince who has duty to attend to does he not?” Elys glances at Elaena as Viserys nods, “Yes, he does indeed, Shall we?” He steps aside to let them through as they make it inside the castle.

Rhaenyra had offered the sisters a tour around the castle as it would be their home very soon. Elys could tell she would be a great company to have around the castle when Elaena spends alone time with her husband.

Both families made it into the dining area where Elys and her in-laws were to have lunch. Elaena’s soon to be husband has yet to arrive to which Viserys apologised for multiple times.

With plates full of food still untouched, and the occasional sips here and then, the large door opened revealing the Rogue Prince. Elys watches her sister who was directly left across from her on the table, the seat infront vacant for the Prince.

Elaena nervously took a sip of her drink as she makes eye contact with her younger sister, “Sorry I’m late” He unapologetically says as takes the seat next to Elaena, not sparring her a glance. Finally sat, his eyes lingered on Elys—too long for her liking, and then his brother.

Not noticing the interaction, Elaena looks at her sister wide eye as she shake her head. Although she was older, only by mere seconds, Elys seemed to have the higher authority in the dynamic, hence her reliance on her sometimes.

Rhaenyra, who had watched the ordeal, looks at the younger then her uncle with a small smirk. “Daemon, Lady Elaena, your soon to be Lady wife” Viserys says as Daemon briefly looks at Elaena who had her eyes on him the entire time in hopes to catch his eyes, only to meet them for less than a second.

“Gaomas ziry sesīr ȳdragon īlva ēngos?” He questions as he cuts his meat, Elaena looks up in worry. One thing she could not grasp was High Valaryian, something Elys mastered. Elaena deeply worried at this disadvantage but her sister reassured her that it would not matter. (Does she even speak our tongue)

A small scoff leaves Elys’ lips as she looks down at her plate, “Lady Elaena has yet to master High Valyrian, my Prince” Rickon explained as Daemon’s simply nods.

Feeling the tension rising, Alicent speaks up. “Would the Lady Elaena and Elys like a tour of our gardens?” She sweetly smiled as the two girls look at her. “I would love to your Grace, but I have training to do” Elys apologetically smiles before getting up.

“Excuse me, your Graces” She bows before kissing her father’s cheek and exiting the room, not knowing Daemon’s eyes were watching her the whole time.

next

[una-hopeless-romantic1118]

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚of wolf's blood and dragon's wrath — Aemond Targaryen⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

"If a she-wolf is what they fear, then a she-wolf I shall be."

⋆.˚ ☾⭒. Aiana was always a guest at King's Landing, as the honorable Lord Rickon Stark's darling daughter. But whenever she was in the warmth of the Capital, the Prince Aemond and her shook hand in hand and took an oath of camaraderie in the cruel world that surrounded them, hiding away under tables as they created a world of their own.

But a child's conflict left them both wounded deeper than the rest.

Aiana Stark grew up to be the notorious Huntswoman of the North. The She-Wolf, with her chin held high and her spine straightened against the hurling insults of men, just as she was called the Hearth to the Cold for her unwavering kindness and personal work as a healer to the sick and wounded.

Aemond would come to be known as the "One-Eyed" Prince, and feared for his dragon Vhagar. He might excel in swordsmanship and studies of the histories, but he hid behind his eyepatch, miserable his comrade no longer thought the same of him. A fucking Targaryen Prince, who longs for the She-Wolf in the North. ⋆.˚ ☾⭒.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒. Tropes:

childhood best friends, to strangers, to lovers

oblivious puppy love

unequal social status (prince and lady)

soulmates

best friend's brother

second chance

sharing emotional scars

⋆.˚ ☾⭒. Inspired songs (*wink wink*):

Let her go by Passenger

The One That Got Away by Katy Perry

Chemtrails Over the Country Club Lana Del Rey

Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want by Deftones

How to Save a Life by The Fray

I Will Always Love You by Dolly Parton

Somebody that I Used to Know by Gotye, Kimbra

Now That We Don't Talk (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift

Mr. Brightside by The Killers

All I Wanted by Paramore

illicit affairs by Taylor Swift

The Great War by Taylor Swift

Forever and Always (Piano Version) (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift

Rescue by Lauren Daigle

Let the Light In by Lana Del Rey

Work Song by Hozier

Evermore by Josh Groban

⋆.˚ ☾⭒. a/n: major canon divergence bc who doesn't want to feed their delusions accordingly and go above and beyond for it, for example:

narrative will switch back and forth between aemond and aiana, and aiana will have a whole thing happening in winterfell. i don't want to spoil much lol

little sister to cregan, big sister to rodrik (not at all a real character to GRRM's work during this timeline, as well as so many more characters.)

⋆.˚ ☾⭒. LINK TO BOOK ⋆.˚ ☾⭒.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒. only posted on ao3 (4 chapters so far), but idk if i should also post here? i think it'll be more aesthetically pleasing but idk what do you guys think? ⋆.˚ ☾⭒.

[aegor-bamfsteel]

“Heirs have the responsibility, second sons have fun” - does it truly suck to be a third son of a noble family then, in Westeros and/or real world medieval Europe?

Some notable third sons in Westeros (not counting the ones who got to inherit based on the death of their elder brothers, such as Jaehaerys I, and not counting those elder of their brothers who died in infancy, such as Oberyn Martell, who is technically a fourth son):

Waymar Royce

Loras Tyrell

Renly Baratheon

Rickon Stark

Benjen Stark

Rhaegel Targaryen

Victarion Greyjoy

Maester Aemon

Archmaester Vaegon “the Dragonless”

Daeron “the Daring”

Joffrey Velaryon

Tygett Lannister

Tornan Peake

Aenys Frey (And other Freys including: Tion, Petyr “Pimple”, Danwell, Jaime, Whalen, Maester Willamen, Waltyr)

As is explicitly pointed out in Waymar’s (“Ser Waymar Royce was the youngest son of an ancient house with too many heirs.” —AGOT Prologue) and Loras’ (“it relieved him of the difficult task of trying to find lands and a bride for a third son, never easy, and doubly difficult in Ser Loras's case.” —ASOS, Sansa VI) cases, as third sons they had little chance to inherit, and little chance of marrying into/conquering lands, thus they joined celibate organizations. Maester Aemon joined another celibate organization, the Citadel, on the orders of his grandfather Dàeron II (who feared too many Maekarspawn running around, I guess), and Archmaester Vaegon was pressured by his father Jaehaerys I after he refused to marry any of his sisters (and probably had a happier ending than any of his siblings, studying in obscurity). Similarly, Benjen Stark and Maester Willamen Frey joined the Night’s Watch or Citadel respectively in order to not require their families to provide for them, or to follow family custom. Then there’s joining a sellsword company like Tornan; the “Second Sons” is named after how many landless younger sons joined (they could also be third sons, or sons of any birth order); similarly, Daemon Targaryen’s army on the Stepstones was partly composed of younger sons.

Those who didn’t join a celibate organization or went abroad usually stayed with their families as household knights, with mixed results of “fun.” Rickon and Renly had to part with them, either because splitting up would be safer or because since his brother was crowned, he got his own castle; they probably had the most fun out of their brothers, either fighting unicorns on Skagos or throwing tourneys in the Reach, but definitely not trained to rule. Joffrey was also kept out of the war due to his age, but that didn’t stop him from trying to protect the Dragonpit. It’s stated that Daeron “the Daring” was more of a follower of his brothers than a leader, and refused to accept the kingship when his brother was incapacitated. Prince Rhaegel was unfit to rule due to mental health issues, what with dancing around the Red Keep naked, but seemed to enjoy himself more than the notoriously joyless Maekar and Aerys. Tygett Lannister, Victarion Greyjoy, and Aenys Frey were fierce warriors and loyal commanders to their brother/father, although sometimes there’s been resentment (and none are dying well, from the pox or from falling into a trap during wartime in addition to probably unknowingly eating his own son, to whatever magical accident Victarion will end in). The other third son Freys range from horrifically murdered (Tion, Petyr) to humiliated (Danwell, Whalen) to children/just unknown, but I’m not sure if that’s due to them being third-born sons or if the author likes to debase Freys in general.

Joining celibate organizations or joining the army was true to life for younger sons in Medieval France, England, and Italy, although as these were Catholic countries, that celibate organization was the Church (that actually meant these sons often had a more scholarly education than their oldest brothers). However, there were third sons that were given land/titles/brides (often heiresses in their own right) by their fathers/brothers, or served their families through commanding armies or as diplomats (though there could be resentment). The amount of “fun” or “suckiness” depended on the situation of the family and character of the son, but he was certainly richer and better educated than most of the country. Though I’ll say that in Westeros, it’s often the first sons who are charismatic but drown themselves in their passions to avoid having to self-reflect/face criticism (Robert, Robb, Tywin), the second sons burdened with grim responsibility/loyalty/duty (Stannis, Ned, Kevan), whereas the third sons can get a little more freedom of expression away from the family (Renly, Rickon, Maester Aemon) (although in case of fourth sons, they may have the more fun and the third born is also somewhat burdened with grim loyalty; see Gerion, young “Egg”, young Aeron). But it’s difficult to try to assign traits based on birth order to all ASOIAF characters due to their different circumstances and personalities.

[reginarubie]

hi I don’t know if you still do request tumblr prompts, but if you’ve lurked in the jonsa tag there was this post shared about a person asking if an adopted son can marry the daughter of the family that adopted him and I was wondering if, inspired and have time. Could you share a dabble or even dialogues with that in mind?. I don’t know, maybe literal conte yes or Jon posting this and people find out it’s him, anything really haha

Oh nonny, why not?

Aragorn married Arwen, though.

The first one to approach him, if one would believe it, is Rickon.

Jon was there when Rickon was born, small, shrieking and red haired. He had been there keeping hold on Arya to avoid she jumped on all the furniture of the hospital room in her excitement.

His little brother leans closer to him a couple of days after as he swings his backpack on his shoulder and as he munches on a protein bar, “Yes” he whispers, his breath smells of nuts, without offering further explanation. Then he smirks like Theon does when he’s about to whore his way out of some mess, and leaves.

Jon remains awestruck, and uncertain, on his feet at the isle of the Stark’s kitchen. He isn’t usually home this hour of the day, not since he’s moved out, but Ned needed helped with the tree-house and Jon needed a day off to get his hands dirty anyway.

Ned keeps looking at him strange all day, and Catelyn studies him with a knowing grin from the kitchen window, and when she brings out some apple pie for them during mid-morning, she takes great care to state that Sansa made it, with much love.

Jon chokes on empty air.

Ned is helpful enough, despite the way he has looked him all morning, to pat him on the back and tell him something that should sound wise and resigned but make Jon only feel uncomfortable.

He’s never been uncomfortable since the Stark officially adopted him when he was fifteen; and after helping set the table he skips — two steps at time — upstairs to find refuge in his old room.

Bran is there. Bran’s mischievous grin, as if he has Jon precisely where he wants him, makes him almost bolt for the door. But Bran is smart, and that wheeled chair is more flexible than he thought because he manages to reach him and knock him on the bed by grabbing him by the hem of his shirt.

“So,” Bran says “you want to marry Sansa, and have her babies. Or would she have yours?” he questions.

And that’s how he learns that all the Starks (barred Arya who is in Braavos for a fencing competition and Sansa who’s in the Vale busy with fashion school) have read his post.

Fuck.

“Would it make you want to hit me less if it was Arya?” he tries to smooth the tension that Bran has unnecessarily created.

Bran’ eyes narrow, “You want to marry my sister, have her babies or she yours; and you want to cheat on her with my other sister?” he demands and Bran can be pretty scary when he wants to, okay? He takes it after Catelyn.

“No…” Jon practically squeaks, and when Bran cocks his head on the side he hastens to add “no one is having anyone babies!”

“Yet!” Catelyn shouts from downstairs, “and until that is true, come down, lunch is ready!”

Bran snickers as Jon helps him down, “And I would not cheat on her,” Jon tells him, offended.

Bran doesn’t stop snickering and Ned is making a very peculiar expression where he’s sat at the head of the table.

“Don’t worry dear,” Catelyn tells him as she pats him on the head as she did when he was a child, “Sansa doesn’t know, yet”

Jon looks helplessly at Ned, his bastion. His father.

Ned just takes a deep breath, and stands up abruptly “We need something stronger than water for this” he states, moving toward his liquor cabinet.

“Eddard Stark stop there!” Catelyn shouts, “Doctor Luwin said…”

“I don’t care what Doctor Luwin said, woman” Ned replies “our son needs it, and to be frank, so do I”

What follows is perhaps the most uncomfortable lunch since that time that aunt Lysa’ new partner Petyr Baelish came visiting after uncle Jon’s death.

In the end though Catelyn sends him off with enough food to last him a week and promises him everything will be fine, “We knew,” she tells him and at Jon’ doubtful look she smiles, “I knew,” she amends, “and perhaps Bran, that kid knows far more than he tells. And Rickon is more perceptive that you’d think… perhaps, only Robb and Ned were not in the known”

Jon wants the earth to swallow him up, “And Sansa, but Sansa is always wilfully blind when it comes to you, so”

“Can we… pretend this never happened?” he pleads. Catelyn never looked more motherly.

“Of course dear, whatever you need”

But since Jon is an unlucky bastard, of course they can’t.

Arya just sends him a text, “My sister? You can do better” and then adds “actually, so can she” but then sends him a married cat couple sticker and they don’t speak of it further.

So perhaps they can really pretend it never happened.

Only, they can’t.

Robb ambushes him outside of his work, when Jon really thought that perhaps he had not given the matter any thought.

“We need to talk” straightforward as always.

“I’ve had a horrendous day, Robb. Can we save this for another time?”

“It’s about Sansa,”

Jon’ patience has grown thin since Rickon has kept pestering him asking to be flower boy.

As if he isn’t taller than him, to Jon’ vast dismay, and looks like he’s twenty-four and not sixteen.

And Bran keeps questioning his intentions.

And Arya hasn’t stopped sending him nauseated gifs all day long.

Even bloody Theon knows. And he and Catelyn keep trying to reign in the others by teaming up in their effort to tease the hell out of him.

He’d like to smash Theon’ face in, since his foster brother had once the very same problem when it came to Sansa. He’s been restless. Always making importune questions at the most importune times.

“Yes I’m in love with her, no she doesn’t know. No, no one is having anyone’s babies and no I would never cheat on her,” he lashes out, walking around Robb and completely missing his brother’ grin and the glint in his blue eyes.

“Wait a moment, Sans, I’m going to put you on speaker,”

And if Jon believed he has ever been embarrassed. Well… he was wrong. He now is properly embarrassed.

“That’s very comforting to hear Jon,” Sansa tells him from the speaker “it means Robb and I’s ten year plan to get you to fall in love with me has finally born some fruit,”

There’s blinding light and then Jon is beaming, grabbing the phone from Robb’ hand as his brother grins like a Cheshire Cat.

That very same night there’s Sansa comment under his question, pinned above all other comments (all kind of comments and Jon is quite offended by some of them).

There’s a particularly nasty one that almost knocks the breath out of him and Jon is on the point to delete the whole thing altogether despite being too giddy to do anything now that he knows Sansa actually returned his feelings.

Aragorn married Arwen, though💅—SStark🍋

Because there isn’t much more to say to that, is there? Gods. Jon loves this woman.

Sooo nonny! Hope you enjoyed!

Sending all my love ~ G.

[oosleepyfaeoo]

The Lady of Snow

A. Targaryen x Stark!Albino!Reader

Summary: Aemond is much like his uncle in one thing... has a thing for ladies with white hair. (sorry I'm bad at summaries)

Warnings: None in this chapter, eventual smut, reader is a female and also described with white hair and skin

Words: 2k

A/n: English is not my first language. Next Chapter

Masterlist

“Seven Hells! It’s so cold that my cock is frozen.” Aegon grumbles beside Aemond as they dismount their dragons.  

Aemond walks to Dreamfyre and helps his sister get down. “Maybe it’s for the best.” He says with a smirk when Aegon throws him a glare. 

The three Targaryen siblings have been traveling on dragons’ back for two days. Lord Rickon Stark has invited the royal family to his fortieth name day, to celebrate and maybe discuss some diplomacy agreement.  

Aegon and Aemond succeeded to convince the King and the Queen to travel last to Winterfell since they were quicker on their dragons and didn’t want to wait for their parents and servants to arrive while they were alone with the warden of the North and his family. 

Three stables boys were waiting by the village’s gate with horses, ready to take the Targaryen siblings to the castle. 

As they approach the castle’s gate, a guard sounded the horn. Alerting everyone of their arrival. 

Lord Stark stood in the middle of the yard with his wife and son by his side, both men with serious faces while Lady Stark had a gentle smile on her pale face. 

“Welcome, your Graces.” Lord Rickon says lowly while bowing his head to the siblings. “I hope you had a good travel.”  

Aegon yawns rudely, not paying attention to the warden of the north. His lilac eyes studied his surrounding carefully, preying on any servant that passed by him.  

Aemond shoots him a glare and nods gently to the Lord. “Thank you for your hospitality, my Lord. The north is truly a beauty.” He says politely. Helaena was by his side, looking around in awe.  

“Forgive us for our older...sister couldn’t come.” Aemond tried to not show his disgust for his older sister but the Lord Stark noticed. “She is heavily pregnant and it’s dangerous for her to ride.”  

The Lord nodded. “There’s nothing to forgive, my Prince. The Queen has already explained it to us.” The older man turns and begins to walk into his castle. “Come! Your parents are waiting for you inside.” 

Pulling Aegon away from a frightened servant, the three of them follow the Stark family. 

Inside the great hall, their parents sat by a massive table, eating their lunch. Alicent stoot up and walk to them, hugging and kissing them gently. 

“My children! I’m happy to see you three save and sound.” She claps her hands softly. “You must be tired. Talya will show yo-”  

The doors are thrown open, interrupting the Queen.  

A girl as pale as snow walks in. Her long wild hair was pure white, almost putting the Targaryen's silver hair to shame. Her smooth skin was like her hair but with soft touches of pink caused by the cold. Small patches of dirt cling around her pink cheeks. 

She wore a simple dark blue gown, with blue winter roses embroidery around the long sleeve and neck.  

What caught by surprise the Targaryen siblings, especially Aemond, was the three enormous dire wolves that followed the girl cautiously. The elegant beasts were black as the night, only one of the three had a white snout.  

They were almost big as a horse. 

“Y/n!” Lady Stark yelps, embarrassed by her daughter's unladylike actions. “How many times I've told you to not bring the wolves inside. Especially with important guests!” She walks towards the girl with a handkerchief in her hand and begins to wipe the dirt off the girl’s face.  

The girl huffs and tries to push her mother away, only to be rewarded by the glare. When Lady Stark was happy with her job, she turns to the siblings and smiles gently. 

“This is my daughter, Y/n, your Graces.” You look at them suspiciously, eyeing them up and down, especially Aegon. Who’s smirking at you. “Y/n, why won’t you go show Princess Helaena the gardens? I wager she would love it.”  

Helaena’s face brightened at the mention of gardens, excited to see what kind of bugs the north has. 

Nodding, you walk to her, bowing gently, and grab her hand. “Come, Princess! I know a spot that you will love it.” You run to the door, pulling Helaena with you while the three dire wolves follow closely behind.  

“Y/n! Please don’t run!” Lady Stark sighs in defeat. “Sometimes I think that I gave birth to an actual wolf.” That statement made the King and Queen laugh, along with her Lord husband and son. 

Aemond’s eye is still fixed on the door where you left with his sister. You had caught his interest. The way you just barge in, wild and free. Not giving a shit if you were in the company of royalty. Also, your hair. He never knew that someone, who hasn’t Valyrian blood, could have such color.  

“If I may ask, how come she has such... interesting color?” Alicent asks as she returns to her seat. 

Lady Stark does the same, smiling sweetly at her husband. “Y/n was born with a rare condition.” She says while sipping on her wine. “The maester said she was kissed by the snow. Make her extremely sensitive to sunlight or very heated places.”  

Cregan stood up from his seat and walked toward the two Princes. “Your Graces.” He bows. “Would you like to see the rest of the castle?”  

Aemond nods, pulling Aegon with him as he follows the young Lord out of the great hall. Cregan showed them their chambers, the library, which made Aemond excited, knowing that he would have come back here later.  

As they were walking to the practicing yard, Aemond notice you in the corner of his eye. Sitting by a weirwood tree, you and his sister were playing with worms. Laughing as the little creatures curl around the wrist. The three dire wolves lay around you protected, the white snout one resting his massive head on your lap. 

“You go without me,” Aemond says, his gaze locked on your small figure seated on the floor. “I’ll meet you two there.” And with that, he’s gone. 

“Did you know worms do not have eyes but they can sense light, especially at their anterior. They move away from light and will become paralyzed if exposed to light for too long.” Helaena says excitedly.  

You hum, your eyes fixed on the worm around your fingers. Giggling gently at the strange feeling of the worm movement. “Incredible! You know so much about these little creatures, my Princess.”   

A soft growl from one of your dire wolves grabs your attention. As you look back, your eyes met Aemond’s, his lilac gaze watching you in curiosity.  

“My Prince!” you gasp. “Oh shush, Onyx.” You pet the black wolf by your feet, hushing him.  

“I’m sorry, my Lady. I didn’t want to intrude.” Aemond quickly explains, embarrassed from being caught by the dire wolf.   

 “Oh nonsense.” You wave to him to take a seat beside you and Helaena. “Come! Join us, my Prince.” You say cheerfully, smiling so brightly that almost made Aemond's good eye go blind.  

The dire wolves move away so Aemond can take a seat beside the two ladies but they were still close to you, studying Aemond’s movement carefully.  

“The wolf soon will hunt in the south and bring the end to the green snake.” Helaena murmurs while petting the worm in her hand. 

You looked at her in confusion but decide to ignore her. Grabbing two worms from the ground, you place them on Aemond’s hand. He tensed when he felt the moist creatures wiggling on his hand, noticing the tiny smirk on your lips.  

“Afraid of a lil bug, my Prince?”  

You are testing him, he thinks. 

“I ride the biggest dragon in all Westeros. A small worm doesn’t fright me, my Lady.” He states. 

Aemond was never a big fan of his sister's little friends. Finding some of them disgusting, like the worms he has on his hand. But not wanting to look weak in front of you, he took a deep breath and let the worms climb and curl around his arm.  

You continue your talk with Helaena, discussing more insects. You told her that more into the deep woods, there is some weird colorful worm that lives inside the trees.  

“Oh, you must show me, my Lady!” Helaena squeals happily.  

Putting the worms down, Aemond cleans his hands and looks at his sister. “Maybe another day, dear sister. It’s getting dark and it’s dangerous to venture into the woods.”  

You nod and stood up, petting Onyx behind his ear. “My Prince is right, Princess.” You help her stand up, seeing a little pout on her lips. “But don’t fret! I will take you there first thing in the morning.”  

As the three of you walk into the great hall, your mother comes running. Horrified by the state of your gown, full of snow and dirt.  

“Go change right now, Y/n!” She sighs. “The feast is tonight and I won’t let you look like some homeless girl.”  

“Yes, mother.” You groan, earning a small smile from your mother.  

“Now go!” She shushes you, pushing you towards your chambers.   

You gave Aemond and Helaena a quick goodbye, your cheeks burning from embarrassment as you notice the smirk on Aemond’s lips.   

/// 

Music and laughter sounded through the great hall. The smell of warm food and ale hovered the large room.  

You sat beside your older brother at the main table. The King and Queen sat on the left side of your father, along with their children. 

Your father and King were discussing some matters about the hunt that will occur tomorrow, while your mother and the Queen chatted happily.  

You look to your side, watching the three Targaryen siblings. Aegon was almost passed out from drinking, not used to the strong wine from the north. Helaena was playing with some wooden toy that she took from her pocket, murmuring riddles that you didn’t understand. 

Your eyes travel to the person next to her, Aemond. His gaze was already piercing through yours when you met his eyes. Gasping in surprise, you quickly look down. Finding your wine cup very interesting suddenly. 

Cregan stood up and walk to Helaena. “Would you like to dance, my Princess?” He asks gently. 

Helaena smiles and nods. “Of course, my Lord.”  

Taking his hand on hers, the two of them walk to where everyone was dancing. A small smile forms on your lips as you see Helaena laughing at some stupid joke that your brother made, noticing a small blush on her cheeks. 

“Would you like to join them?” Aemond says, suddenly standing right in front of you. His hand extended for you to take it.  

“Does the dragon knows how to dance?” you say with a smirk which Aemond returns it. 

“As much as a wolf bites, my Lady.” He declares. 

Chuckling gently, you took his hand and let him guide you to where everyone was dancing. He puts his right hand on your waist while his other hand grabs yours, slowly swaying with the music. 

You two stay like that in silence for a while, enjoying each other company. This close to him, you could smell his scent. The smell of herbs and dragon made you feel at peace.  

“Will you join us tomorrow on the hunt, my Lady?” Aemond looks down at you, his eye shining with the warm light from the room. 

You nod, licking your lips slowly. “Yes, my Prince. I would not miss it for nothing.” You observe how his eye follows your tongue on your lips, his pupil grew big, almost making his lilac eye look black. 

“Is that so?... Well, I wish you all the luck on your hunt, my Lady.” He murmurs, his nose gently touching yours. 

“How kind of you, my Prince” You whisper, your eyes now locked to his lips. Noticing how close they were to yours. 

The music comes to an end, making you pull away from Aemond. Your face gleamed with a faint blush which he found incredibly adorable.  

“Thank you for the dance, my Prince.” You bow and walk towards your seat, Aemond close behind. 

As you are about to take a seat, your mother smiles widely at you and claps her hands.  

“Oh, Y/n! I have wonderful news!” She speaks gently. “Our kind Queen said she will take you as one of her ladies in waiting and find you an excellent Lord for you to marry.” 

The tag list for this series is open! -> HERE

Tag list: @cryptid-l0ver @saelwen @saelwen-shy-elf @papichulo120627

[imaginarianisms]

okay but. rickon aint having all these nice peace talks w/ the lannisters, freys & boltons or their allies (who uh. btw settled & colonized his homelands). ppl rly expect rickon to be normal after (checks notes) not remembering his father or his mother (& possibly very barely robb) losing his entire homelands his castle at 6 y/o & being forced to leave his lands w/ a free folk woman & a black direwolf & going to the island of skagos where even some of the most hardass mfs dont dare go (& ngl he probably had to kill some ppl at a young age). like this kid came outta catelyn fighting & insane. if it were up to him he'd chase out any lannister & frey settlers from his homelands.

[flowerandblood]

A Winter Beauty (21)

[Aemond Targaryen x fem!Stark reader]

[warnings: sex content, smut, violence, fluff]

[description: Aemond and his family arrive at Winterfell for Rickon Stark's Name Day. There, Aemond meets his daughter, who arouses his desire. I changed some names and facts for the sake of the plot. Viserys is also slightly younger in this version.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next parts: Masterlist

_____

Several months have passed since Vaegon was born. Viserys's condition began to deteriorate significantly. It was so bad that he was given poppy milk. Viserys asked Alicent to organize a feast and gather his entire family. He felt that his time was coming and he wanted everyone to be with him.

The specter of his future death cast a shadow over the Red Keep. Lady Stark knew that Otto Hightower, her husband's grandfather, saw his grandson Aegon on the throne, not princess Rhaenyra. He was poisoning the thoughts of the queen all the time, who, although she stood up to him, was afraid when he told her, that her childhood friend would kill her and her children as soon as she took the Iron Throne.

Aemond shared with her what his grandfather had said. Lady Stark looked at him, frowning, as Vaegon sat on her lap, playing with the wooden horse she had just handed him, drooling all over it and trying to get it into his mouth.

"Your grandfather strikes me as more capable of such a thing than your stepsister." She said coldly, bending down to her son so he wouldn't choke on the toy. "Hey, don't eat that!"

Aemond gave her a pointed look, her words annoyed him, but the sight of her with their son on her lap always warmed him. Their child was loud and curious, everything amused and interested him. When he sat on his lap, he notoriously tried to take off his eyepatch or pull his hair. He squealed loudly when he wouldn't let him.

They were both happy to say that he was a trouble-free, happy child. He was now sleeping soundly almost all nights, growing fast and changing from day to day. From his dragon egg hatched a beautiful blue dragon. He was still small, as was himself, but Aemond was proud to think that his firstborn son had, what the gods hadn't given him.

He looked at his wife thoughtfully.

"You're too gullible. Just because she helped you give birth, doesn't mean she won't kill you and our baby if she considers you a threat." He said, looking away impatiently. Lady Stark shook her head, taking the toy from Vaegon, which he seemed to want to give her at that moment.

"And who would you see on the throne. Aegon, holding a goblet of wine in one hand and a whore's ass in the other?" She asked directly, and Aemond laughed loudly at her words. His wife had already become completely open with him and was not afraid to express her opinions. He looked at her intensely.

Lady Stark blinked and twisted in place, unsettled. She frowned, blinking, slowly realizing what he was thinking.

"You think I would be a bad king?" He asked quietly.

Lady Stark swallowed loudly, looking at him horrified.

"I… I think you'd make a great king. I really do. But I love our life. You always pay for a crown. The gods don't give anything for free and they'll take something from you. Again." She said with emphasis. Aemond pursed his lips at her words, and they both looked at each other, tension between them. Finally, he exhaled softly, resigned.

"Such speculations are meaningless. I am not the firstborn son." He said getting up from his chair. Lady Stark blinked, swallowing loudly, afraid she might have inadvertently hurt him. She took Vaegon in her arms and walked over to him, looking at him fondly.

"I know, Aemond." She said softly and he looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "I know you sacrificed more. You studied and trained more. You understand and know more, you are better suited. I know it's not fair. But I can't help but enjoy our life as it is. Is it not enough for you?" She asked, looking at him with pain.

Aemond looked at her thoughtfully, his gaze softening. He moved closer to them, grabbed her cheek and kissed her passionately with a wet, loud sound. He pulled away from her, licking his lips.

"It's you alone that I want more than a crown."

***

Aemond fucked her hard, panting heavily, holding her buttocks tightly in his hands. She was wearing a flowing, sheer dress again, revealing her beautiful shoulders, her nipples showing through, driving him crazy.

As they were going to his mother's chamber to have dinner together, he entered the alley, turned her back to him, and pulled up her dress. He could hear her panting loudly, her juices running slowly down her thighs. Seeing this, he just lowered his pants slightly and entered her without warning.

A few weeks after Vaegon's birth, his wife let him take her again. They did it very gently and slowly, enjoying the closeness again. They made love several times that night, the last time they fucked like animals, panting and moaning heavily.

Aemond was surprised to find that they were even hornier than before their son was born. They already had an heir, they had done their duty as a married couple, so they could caress each other solely for their own satisfaction and fulfillment.

After the birth of their son, his wife's body changed. She still had a beautiful, slender waist and face, but her hips and breasts were bigger, and he couldn't keep his hands off them. When walking with her, he could just slide her dress off her shoulders and cup her breast in his hand, kissing her lips.

He liked that her temper never faded. She loved it when he took her to new places, when they were on the verge of being caught. That's why he often fucked her, like now, in the hallway.

Occasionally the servants caught a glimpse of them out of the corner of their eye, but they quickly looked away and fled, not daring to interrupt them. They reported this to the queen, who rebuked her son, but he pretended that nothing of the sort had happened and that it was mere slander.

"What's the point of you wearing these dresses, if they don't cover anything?" He hissed, fucking her mercilessly, his thighs hitting hers with tremendous force, a wet, perverted slap. They were both panting loudly.

"Maybe you should walk around the keep naked, hm? You like it when other men look at your body?" He asked enraged, sick with jealousy and the fact, that other men could look at her body, which belonged only to him. She moaned loudly, her face pressed helplessly against the wall.

Lady Stark licked her lips, panting heavily, her mouth twitching into a smile. She loved driving him crazy.

"Yes, I like it so much. When I see their eyes on me, I get so wet." She whispered laboriously, sweetly, her hands struggling to balance her body. She felt his hands tighten on her buttocks, his cock pumping harder into her.

"I didn't know my wife was such a slut." He hissed, his hand closing around her throat, lifting her up a bit, so that he leaned in to her ear as he continued to fuck her. He knew she was teasing him, and it infuriated him.

"Maybe I should start taking a closer look at the ladies in the keep, their breasts and hips, too? Would you like that?"

Lady Stark pursed her lips in defeat.

"I'd sooner pluck out your other eye." She mumbled, frowning. She heard his light laugh, both of them gasping loudly, close to fulfillment, slamming their bodies against each other with all their might.

"I think, that for your brazen words, you will kneel before your husband today and give him pleasure, right?" He gasped, his hand sliding down to her clit, massaging it with a slow, intense motion, he heard her loud moan of delight. "I think we agree on that, don't we?"

"Y-yes, I want to feel you in my mouth so badly" She moaned helplessly, and leaned back as a strong, wonderful orgasm surged through her body. Her husband came out of her just in time, coming to the floor, panting loudly.

Aemond quickly pulled his pants up and turned his wife toward him, breathing uneasily, looking at her with amusement.

"If you want to suck my cock, just say so. You don't have to make me mad." He grunted, cupping her chin in his hand, as she adjusted her gown with trembling hands. She snorted, smiling slightly.

"Where's the fun in that?"

***

The time came for a great family feast. Lady Stark could see, that her husband had not been in a good mood since morning. He was tense and ironic. The thought of meeting Luke made him meaner to her and more brutal with his words. She frowned, as she lifted the kicking Vaegon from his cradle, demanding attention.

"What's the matter with you? I don't recognize you. Are you going to act like a child at the table today? I already have one and I don't want to keep the other one behaving properly." She said, taken off balance by his behavior.

He looked at her enraged, his lips pressed into a line. The fact that she called him a child was like a slap in the face to him. She could see that he was boiling, but before he could say anything, she interjected.

"Be careful what you're about to say. Luke will leave eventually, and we'll stay here with anything else nice I hear from you today." She said resentfully, not understanding how such a wise man could be so carried away by his own grief.

She saw his jaw quiver, he lowered his gaze, turning his head away. He swallowed hard, his fists clenched. Lady Stark looked at him expectantly. Finally he looked at her.

"I didn't mean to offend you." He said coldly. His wife exhaled loudly. Better an apology than none at all.

"I didn't mean to offend you either. But I beg you, control yourself. You can't breathe fire on everything as you please." She said, skirting him with their son in her arms, leaving their chamber. Aemond tipped his head back, running a hand over his face.

When he entered the great hall, that now served as the dining room, practically everyone was already there. He saw that his wife, with their son in her arms, was talking to Helaena. Her twins were running under the table, laughing loudly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Luke and Jace watching him uncertainly.

He walked over to his wife and held out his hands to her. He knew he was exaggerating, and he took out his frustrations on her all day. He wondered how she could bear it so patiently.

"Give him to me. You carry him all day, your back will hurt." He said gently, looking at her softly. Lady Stark smiled slightly and glanced at Vaegon.

"Will you torment your dad a bit now? Hmm?" She asked, rocking him, and he began to kick happily in her hands, obviously delighted at the prospect. She handed Aemond his son, and he immediately tightened his hands around his black leather jacket, his fingers automatically going to his blindfold.

"No." He said, leaning back, so as not to let him reach there. Vaegon squealed loudly in impatience and looked desperately at his mother. Lady Stark laughed out loud.

"He's so funny!" She said to Helaena, who looked at them amused.

She smiled broadly as she saw Rhaenyra come over to them, looking tenderly at their child, behind her, a few paces away, Daemon stopped. She reached out her fingers to touch his tiny hand, which immediately tightened on her skin.

"Children grow up so fast. I hope he's in good health." She said, glancing at his mother. Lady Stark nodded.

"He's the liveliest baby I know. I don't know what will happen, when he starts walking and talking. I think we'll have to locked him up in a dragon's lair." She said amused, Rhaenyra and Daemon laughed out loud. Daemon wagged his finger at her.

"You have a fiery tongue. You fit in this family." He said with appreciation, his wife nodded.

Aemond was surprised to see how easily his wife was able to create a gentle, cheerful atmosphere with people she didn't know at all. Her directness, humor and warmth quickly won over everyone. He knew his uncle, knew that he could be nasty and picky with people he considered idiots, or people not worth his attention. His wife somehow immediately won his favor.

He thought to himself, that he was lucky, that she fell in love with him. That she wanted him as much as he wanted her. She could have anyone with her beauty and intelligence, but she wanted him, the crippled prince. With her, he never felt inferior, deficient. On the contrary, she brought his self-esteem to a level he had never reached before.

She was the best lover he could wish for, tender, understanding, fiery, thirsty. Best friend and companion, intelligent, prudent, patient, funny, understanding. Even when they argued, he couldn't stay mad at her for long, her charm making his fury evaporate like steam. Very often their quarrels ended in their bed, their bodies sweating, intertwined in a tight embrace of pleasure.

They all turned, when they heard that the king would appear in the hall. He was literally carried on his throne, apparently unable to walk himself. Half of his face was covered by a golden mask.

Aemond felt his heart clench at the sight. He felt his wife move closer to him, pressing her breast against his shoulder, looking at him reassuringly. He gave her a tender look and kissed her forehead.

Finally, everyone sat down at the table. Aemond and his wife, with their son on her lap, sat on one edge of the table, Rhaena and Luke sat on the opposite side of the table. Lady Stark watched uneasily how they cast glances at each other, as they took a sip of wine. Some pleasant toasts were raised.

She and Aemond watched as Aegon got up lazily, and walked over to Baela. He whispered something in her ear, and Jace, sitting next to her, stood up suddenly, slamming his fist on the table.

Lady Stark looked at her husband in horror, as she saw him stand up as well. Jace and Aemond stared at each other, Aegon sat back as if nothing had happened. There was an awkward silence.

Jace swallowed hard, smiled, and raised his goblet.

"I want to make a toast to you, dear uncles. I have wonderful memories of our youth together, and I hope we can be friends and allies now as well. All the best for you." He said, slapping Aegon friendly on the shoulder.

Lady Stark pursed her lips, trying not to smile, amused by the situation. Her eyes met Daemon's and they both covered their faces, trying not to laugh out loud.

"For you too." Aegon grunted.

Jace sat back down at the table. Aemond looked away, impatient. After a while he sat down again next to his wife, all tense. He gave her a questioning look as he saw her expression. She just shook her head, sighing loudly with pity. She thought they behaved worse than her baby on her lap.

Otto accosted his great-grandson by tickling his belly. Vaegon laughed out loud each time his fingers came close to him again. She thought with amusement that her son loved everyone and everything. She reached for a piece of watermelon, that she loved so much, and began to eat it slowly, rocking him on her lap.

Vaegon, seeing a new, interesting item in her hand, reached out to her. Lady Stark, knowing that the watermelon had a soft, almost watery consistency, decided to let him try a piece.

She broke off a small fragment and slipped it on her finger into his mouth, which her son licked greedily, smacking with interest. He started jumping up and down with excitement at this new, apparently delicious for him, taste. He reached out for more. Aemond looked at them uneasily.

"Is it safe?" He asked quietly as she gave him another piece of watermelon in his mouth.

"I've read in books that he needs to be slowly introduced to watery foods. He won't be drinking milk all his life. Right?" She asked, wiping Vaegon's mouth, which was sticky from his new favorite dish.

Aemond grunted, letting go, believing she knew what she was doing. He had to admit, that she was a wonderful mother. She had a lot of patience, love and warmth, but she also did not let their son get on her head. Even when he cried with anger, when she didn't want to give him something, she did not give up to him.

She was the one, who showed him how to properly hold their son, where to pat him after he ate. He loved watching her breastfeed him, there was something intimate and private about it, family and warmth. Here his wife breastfed his son, thus taking care of his successor and heir.

He was ashamed to ask for it, but several times when they had sex he tried her milk, unable to contain his curiosity. She looked at him then, amused and turned on at the same time, letting him do what he wanted.

The music snapped him out of his thoughts. Jace stood up suddenly and walked over to Helaena, asking her to dance. Aemond and Aegon exchanged quick glances. Lady Stark smiled to herself, continuing to bite another piece of watermelon, sharing it with her son.

After a while, hot food began to come in. A large roast of pig was placed in front of them, still steaming. She heard Luke chuckle softly and turned her gaze to him. She saw him looking at her husband. She didn't even blink, before Aemond slammed his fist down on the table, grinning, and raised his goblet.

"The last tribute." He said looking around the room. "To the house of my nephews. Jace, Luke and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…"

Lady Stark stared at him in disbelief, feeling what he wanted to do. Cold sweat ran down her back.

"…strong."

"Aemond." The queen reacted immediately, moving uneasily in place.

"Let's us raise our cups, for these three, strong boys."

"I dare you to say that again." Jace hissed, looking at him with hatred.

"Why? It's only a compliment. Don't you consider yourself strong?" He asked, and Jace punched him hard in the face.

Aemond didn't even flinch, shoved him effortlessly with one hand, so that he fell to the ground. He laughed to himself as he turned back to his wife, amusement on his face.

"Have you gone mad?" She hissed furiously, holding their son in her arms, who fidgeted restlessly.

"I just wanted to show how proud I am of my family, wife. It seems my nephews aren't quite proud of theirs." He said, almost laughing, Jace moved at him again, but Daemon stepped between them.

"Wait." He said, pointing his finger at him.

He turned his back on him and sighed heavily, looking at Aemond. Before they could say anything, Lady Stark brushed past them and left the room. Aemond, seeing her rage, pursed his lips and followed her.

"Wait." He said impatiently, walking a few steps behind her. She didn't respond to him. She entered her chamber and he followed her.

"Leave." She said dryly to him. "Tonight you sleep alone. Go lie down with Luke, maybe you can clear up a few more things between yourselves."

His jaw clenched in fury at her words. He moved closer to her and grabbed her cheeks brutally with his hand, making her suck in a quick breath.

Vaegon suddenly began to cry loudly, terrified. Aemond released her at once, realizing only now what he had done. Lady Stark stared at him in disbelief and pain, her lip quivering slightly.

"Forgive me." He said softly.

"Leave." She said softly, rocking Vaegon, trying to calm him down.

"I…"

"Get out! I've had enough! I only asked you for one thing!" She screamed in pain. There were tears in her eyes, but she didn't let herself cry. "You can't even…"

"They gave me a pig."

Lady Stark raised her eyebrows, shaking her head in disbelief.

"What?" She asked, completely helpless.

"When we were kids. They gave me a pig with wings, saying it was my dragon. That's why he laughed." He said low, looking at her with pursed lips, humiliated. "Forgive me for what I just did to you. Let me sleep by your side."

She swallowed hard, and Vaegon finally calmed down. She lowered her gaze and was silent for a moment, what he said made her anger melt away.

"I'm sorry too. You made me so upset." She said softly.

"I know." He whispered.

They both laid Vaegon in the crib, covering him with the duvet. Not even a minute had passed when he hugged her from behind, his mouth finding her bare shoulders and neck, kissing them hungrily.

He pressed harder against her, wanting her to feel how hard he was, how much he needed her. He heard her moan softly. He leaned over her and whispered in her ear:

"Let's go to bed."

_____

I decided to end the story here, not wanting to get involved with the king's death and Luke's death - next chapter will be an epilogue, set several years later when Vaegon is a little older. I think both characters have developed wonderfully through all these chapters, I love them and they live happily ever after in my version. Thank you all for such a wonderful reception of this series! And I invite you to read my other fanfic - Masterlist. 💖

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @avgdusterfan @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @random-ocity @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @snh96 @malfoytargaryen @opheliaas-stuff

Others: @dreamlandcreations @darkenchantress @moira-strangle-me-please @yentroucnagol @cloudroomblog @thehumanistsdiary @a-beaverhausen @avadakadabra93 @sirenangelroyal @aonungs-tsahik @xmaiaaa @writingaboutlove1998 @roxannequeen @alwaysholymilkshake

[entitled-fangirl]

A gentle wolf.

Cregan Stark x Arryn!reader

Summary: Rumors had spread of the Lord's fierceness. When the reader marries him, she fears if the rumors are true. He defends her at the ceremony, and she believes that perhaps he's just a gentle wolf.

Warnings: talks of sex, cursing, blood and death, crude comments, attempted s.a. (not from our boy), a bedding ceremony, read at your own discretion

A/n: This was based on a few different asks!

Masterlist

..................................................

Y/n's father, Lord Arryn,was a firm man. Headstrong, he fought for the best for his children. 

When Rickon Stark accepted the proposal of Y/n Arryn to his only living son, Cregan, the smile that came to her father's face was the only one she'd ever seen graze his features.

This betrothal was the highest honor her family could have received.

She had never met Cregan before, but only being eleven, there was much time before she had to worry about such things. 

…

The years had moved by quickly, a rapid approach to the girl's end to childish things. 

The rumors through the years of Cregan's growing formidable northern spirit increased tremendously. 

Perhaps some of them were true. 

He's ruthless. Heartless. More animal than human. 

She grew fearful of how her future husband would treat her.

"Perhaps he'll finally get the bratty behavior out of you," her brother mused. 

Her brother's wife, the future Lady Arryn, hit his chest, "Be gone with you. Do not frighten the poor girl."

When he had left, the woman turned to Y/n to speak, but Y/n beat her to it.

"Will it hurt as bad as they say?" She asked in a hushed tone.

She paused to answer her, careful of her word choices, "It… may not be pleasant, my lady."

She had to swallow the lump that was forming in her throat. 

"But I'm sure Lord Cregan will be merciful to you."

She wanted to believe her sister-by-law. She really did. 

But even she could not believe the tense look in the woman's eyes.

…

Cregan was just as intimidating as the rumors had made him. 

Strong. Hardy. Gruff and unforgiving. Stern and harsh.

Yet his eyes always held an unfamiliar look to them, as if his next move was completely undecided to the person that stared into them.

A small smile came to his face as he held a hand out to her, "I'm sure your family wishes to rest from their long travel. I would be overjoyed to show you Winterfell if you'll allow me."

Y/n looked over to her father, who gave his stern look that he always gave. A silent warning to behave.

She took Cregan's hand with her own, trying to still the small tremor to it. Her voice was meek, "I'd like that, my lord."

"Cregan."

"Hmm?" She questioned.

"My name," he began, "It's Cregan. Please use it."

She nodded, "Very well… Cregan."

His smile grew as he studied the girl. As the two began to walk from the main hall, Cregan softly murmured to one of the servants to show her family to their chambers. 

"I do apologize that Winterfell has no lavish garden or beautiful art to view. It's rather lacking in color." He spoke lightly after a while.

She let out a soft breath, relishing in his voice finally. It was low, yes, but not the growl that she had thought it would be. 

"However," he continued. "It has formidable walls and a strong structure. Those who stand on this side of it are safer than King's Landing."

She hummed, "I don't believe the North really focuses on color and art over warmth and survival."

A chuckle escapes his throat, "Aye." His steps slow as they near one of the few balconies, "But perhaps you may breathe life into it."

She wanted to turn and question him, but the view from the balcony caught her attention. 

He made a motion with his hand, encouraging her to look out.

She took slow steps, reaching the bannister as she looked out at what Winterfell had to offer outdoors. 

What she didn't notice was what laid within the walls as well, for Lord Cregan Stark's eyes had softened tremendously as he watched the young woman. 

"I'm afraid I don't know how to be a lady," she lightly remarked as she looked over the courtyard.

He stepped forward to her, meeting her at the bannister, "It is not a matter you know, it is one you learn."

When she looked over, she finally took him in.

The man was every bit the wolf they had said. She knew that. 

But like every Stark, he was still a man. 

"I became the Lord when I was only three and ten," he said. "It was frightening. I was hardly old enough to know the sword, much less to lead such a people as the Northerners." His eyes softened again as he looked into her eyes, "It will come in time. Do not fret."

"Thank you, my lord."

He head tilted lightly, a small twinkle to his eyes.

"Oh. Cregan, I meant," she bit back a small smile at her words.

A surprising chuckle bubbled from him as he looked out over the bannister. "You're a quick learner, pretty girl."

She fought to keep the blush rising to her cheeks at bay.

She couldn't let the wolf sink his teeth into her just yet.

…

She was completely zoned out for the ceremony. She wanted to be involved and remember it, yes. But everything was just too much.

Right now, she focused on the heavy feeling of Cregan's cloak draping over her shoulders as he stated his vows to protect her under his house. 

She had already stated her part, leaving her to stare up at Cregan. She couldn't look away from how his breath could be seen in the cold chill.

Her attention reverted back when his hands cupped her cheeks and he leaned down to her, placing a heavy kiss to her lips.

Her hands gripped his wrists, thrown off at the feeling.

When he pulled away, a wide grin was pulled across his face. His forehead rested to hers. "I am yours, and you are mine," he whispered to her.

A breath escaped her lungs at his proclamation. 

Perhaps she truly was a lamb brought to appease the wolf. 

But then why was the wolf's smile so charming?

…

She sat in her seat anxiously, her entire body practically shaking.

She was supposed to sit with Cregan and enjoy the feast. 

But she couldn't stop worrying of the bedding ceremony.

To be naked in front of all these people? It made bile rise in her throat. 

"Something amiss?" Cregan asked as he leaned towards her.

She quickly shook her head, "Just nerves is all."

He nodded slowly, debating a thought. Finally, he handed her his own cup, "For the nerves."

Y/n took it gratefully, sipping the dark wine.

She barely noticed when Cregan stood and kissed the crown of her head. "I'll be back momentarily. I've a few guests to greet."

He straightened himself up, leaving the table to disappear into the crowd.

Perhaps a moment alone in her thoughts would be good-

"Excuse me, Lady Stark," a new voice mused. 

The lady paused, looking up to the voice. Across the table was a man no older than thirty, his surcoat a bright red. His smile was all teeth, and it put her on edge.

"Lord Bolton, my lady." He bowed his head before letting his eyes rake her form, "I was hoping to ask you for a dance."

"Ah," she quietly acknowledged. Her eyes began to look around for her husband. "I was led to believe that a first dance is required between a husband and his w-"

"-Lord Stark doesn't dance, my lady. Most northerners don't."

"I suppose that makes you… different." She said as she studied him.

He grinned again, "Aye. I suppose so."

With no Cregan in sight and no reason to say no despite wishing to, she nodded and began to stand, "Very well, Lord Bolton."

When she rounded the table, she took his hand, forcing a smile to her face. 

The two descended down to the floor as the small quartet began to play.

Lord Bolton's moves were careful and calculated, that much was clear. That alone seemed to describe him wholly as a person as well.

Another man rushed to Bolton, a smile on his face as he leaned to him, "Is it time yet?"

Bolton sighed mid step, "No. I will inform you when it is."

The man sulked off. Before the woman could ask, Bolton made a quick effort to spin her, distracting her from the conversation before. 

She tries to ignore the feeling of Bolton's hand on her waist. It's forced, uncomfortable. She feels controlled under his grip. 

As the song comes to an end, he makes no move to step away. "I must say, my lady, I have been most eager for this."

"Hmm?"

"The ceremony, I mean. I am quite eager for it."

"What do you mean, my lord?"

His hand reaches up to her cheek, his thumb running along her bottom lip as he stares at it, "To tear your clothes from you and watch you be throughly fucked by your lord husband."

Cregan stood with a cup of ale in his hand, his laughs loud through the hall as he joked with a friend of his. With his back turned to the high table, he had yet to notice his wife's absence from it. 

Until a voice whispered in his ear. 

His head turned, his face suddenly serious. "Repeat that?"

"The Lady… she danced with Lord Bolton."

His attention was completely lost from the previous conversation as he looked over to the busy floor. 

Sure enough, he saw Bolton with his filthy hand on her cheek, his eyes full of lust. 

When Bolton reaches up to the shoulder of her dress and tugged harshly, Cregan moved. 

A downright mob formed, eager to begin the bedding ceremony of stripping the couple and marching them to their room to consummate. But any body that moved toward Cregan was met with injury. 

He pushed and shoved bodies left and right, finally getting to Bolton.

Y/n laid on the floor, pushing Bolton's hands away, as well as others, as they pulled on what material they could. She cried out with every sound of the ripping dress. 

Fire filled the Stark, and his voice showed it. 

"GET THE FUCK OFF OF HER!" His voice echoed through the hall.

All the attention shot to Cregan, silence filling the room.

He forced himself to breathe. "I said," he muttered lowly, "Get. Away."

One by one, the people stepped away from the girl, creating distance. When Bolton stood, he straightened his clothes, huffing as he did so.

Y/n sat in tears as she pulled up what material she could to cover herself. Her dress was all but tatters, her shift containing large rips that only chilled her already shaking body. 

"Bolton," his voice growled out.

A shiver ran down Bolton's spine at the sound of Cregan's voice. He stepped to the man, "My lord?"

"Explain yourself before I murder you at my wedding."

"The bedding ceremony," he said as if it was obvious, "We were beginning the ceremony."

"And I told you there would be no such thing. Did I not?'

"Aye, but it is tradition," Bolton continued. 

"Aye, but I'll have your fucking head for this," Cregan mocked him.

Cregan knelt down to Y/n, helping her cover herself in what he could, as well as his own body shielding some of the stares. His voice was soft in her ear, "Are you harmed?"

She moved to speak, but her breath was all hiccups from her tears, so she shook her head instead. 

Cregan turned his head to look at the nearest servant.

"Bring me Ice."

Whispers moved across the hall immediately.

What would Lord Stark need with his longsword?

Soon, Ice was in his hand, and he stood from his wife to glare at Bolton. "I'm going to take something from you. But I'm noble enough that I'll let you choose."

Bolton's eyebrows shot up, "Take, my lord? W… What do you-"

"I was not finished," Cregan growled. He paced back and forth in front of the man. "I can take your hand, your tongue, your feet," he paused as a smirk came to his lips, "…or your cock."

"This is outrageous-"

Ice was suddenly pointed at Bolton's throat, "The next words from your mouth will be your answer or I will take your head entirely."

When silence filled the room again, Cregan turned his head barely to his servant again, "Get my cloak for my wife to cover."

When the warmness returned to the woman's shoulders, she pulled the cloak to her as much as she could, hoping it would sooth the chill and embarrassment that had settled into her bones.

"Take her to our chambers," he muttered lowly, not letting his eyes leave Bolton. "I'd hate to ruin her wedding night with the sight of blood."

…

Cregan met her a few hours later as he entered their chambers. His shoulders were still tense and his eyes still held fire, but it was better than before. "Forgive me."

She looked up from the sofa, a new, unripped shift covering her body now. "For what?" She asked softly.

Her eyes were still puffy, her nose a bright red from irritation. 

It didn't help his anger.

"I made a vow to protect you under my house and my name and I've already failed you."

"No, forgive me," she sniffled. 

His mouth opened to rebut against her, but no words came out.

"I… I did not mean to mislead Lord Bolton. I… I have sullied the Stark name. Dirtied it with… with a mere dance. I am sorry."

Cregan wanted to scoff. "What?"

"I mislead him. He-"

"Quiet," he said. "You've done nothing wrong."

"I've not angered you?" 

He took a step to her.

Her sniffles grew to hiccups, "Please don't."

His confusion grew, "What are you speaking of?"

But when he stepped to her again, she flinched away, pushing herself further down the sofa. 

"My sweet wife, please speak plainly," he tried to reason with his hands up.

"I… I can be better. Give me a chance, please."

"B…Better?" He scoffed. "You are an image of the Mother herself. I hold no anger to you."

She hiccuped again as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve, "None?"

"No. Only a creature of a man would ever be angered at his wife so. I defended you, did I not?"

Y/n considered his words. She was deep enough in thought that she didn't notice Cregan's closing steps until he was sat on the sofa next to her. 

His hand reached up to her chin, pushing her face up to look at him. "I promise. I promise to be entirely too gentle with you."

This was no wolf at all.

All of this time, she feared the Warden of the North. The wielder of Ice. The Stark Wolf. 

She hadn't considered that she had married Cregan. 

"What have you done to Lord Bolton?" She dared to ask him.

His head tilted, "Enough to help him learn better."

He may have been all of those frightening things outside of their chambers. But for her, he was only Cregan. 

He laid her down with careful movements, his touch light as he began to undress her. 

…

She was unsure what happened to Bolton that night, but rumors spread throughout the castle that the man's blood had to be cleaned from the Winterfell floors over a dozen times over to get the stain out.

................................................

Taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, 8812-342, @nyxbranwenn, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest,

[francesminos-tt]

cregan is married and fucks his son's nanny, jace 👀👀

I am not sure if this is what you ask for, but I tried😅

It was somewhat laughable for a graduate student to work as a babysitter, but Jacaerys found this job best accommodating to he needs. Jace was on his year of pursuing a doctor’s degree in Winterfell Institution of Technology, a renowned academic hub for science enthusiastic like him. Jacaerys came from an affluent family, but he decided to finish his education and carve a place in the world on his own, which meant no easy money from mother, no top-notch sports car from Papa Laenor, no private security from Daemon, and absolutely no private jet from grandpa Corlys. Jacaerys had a scholarship, and he worked as a part-time babysitter to help pay the rent.

“Okay, time for bed, little man.” Jacaerys helped the little boy into his dire wolf printed pajamas before tucking him in, making sure the boy was warm and comfortable.

“Can you tell me a bedtime story, Jace?” Rickon asked, his dark eyes tentative and pleading.

“Of course.” Jacaerys replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed carefully, “Which one do you prefer tonight?”

There were at least a dozen children’s book in Rickon’s room, ranging from fairy tales to folklores, all with beautiful illustrations.

“The werewolf and the dragon prince.” Rickon replied with anticipation, “That’s my favorite one!”

That was Jacaerys’s favorite, too.

“All right.” Jacaerys smiled, reaching over to pick up the illustrated book and opened it on his lap, “Ready?”

Rickon nodded expectantly. Jacaerys brushed some stray curls from the boy’s face and began to read the story of a dragon prince venturing into the dark woods and befriended a long lost clan of werewolves. Rickon was fast asleep before the dragon prince could made it to the wolf’s den.

Jacaerys gently closed the book and dimmed the light, leaving only a small light source in case the boy woke up at night. Jace would kiss the boy on the forehead if Rickon were one of his younger brothers, but he had to remind himself that Rickon was not his family. It would be inappropriate and felt like trespassing if he got too intimate with the boy.

Jacaerys closed Rickon’s bedroom door behind him with a soft click and headed for the kitchen. The house was dark, indicating that Rickon’s father had not come home yet. Cregan Stark was a busy man, and it was normal for him to work late into the night. You had to sacrifice something in order to run the biggest technology company in the realm, after all. For Cregan, he had to give up his family time, even his wife, who had filed for divorce and moved out, and that was why Cregan was in need of a nanny to look after his son when he was gone.

Jacaerys was the perfect candidate for the job. He was the eldest of five siblings, well-experienced with children, especially little boys. He lived near the Stark house, a short 15-minutes’ walk, so it was easier for him to come to the house on a short notice. Also, he was a post-graduate student, highly intelligent and extremely patient, so Cregan did not have to hire another home teacher for the boy. For Jace, the job fit him just fine. He got along with Rickon, and he could have a quiet night to study after the boy fell asleep, not having to listen to his neighbor’s ugly moan when they jerked off or the nasty curse when they lost a game.

Jace poured himself a cup of tea and opened his laptop. He really needed to finish reading the materials for the lecture next week. Jace was on his third cup of tea and second energy bar when the door was pushed open, entering a tall and muscular figure wrapped in a puff jacket, scarf and beanie. Cregan was a strong guy, so this outfit only made him more towering and muscular, more like a bear than a wolf. Jacaerys could never understand why Cregan insisted on parking his car three blocks away and ran the way home in such cold weather. Cregan said it was a good exercise for his lungs, but Jacaerys never fully believed him.

“Hello,” Cregan greeted Jace cheerfully, “I assume my son has fallen asleep already?”

“Yes.” Jacaerys replied, “It’s past midnight, Cregan. Every boy Rickon’s age should be fast asleep by now.”

“He always behaves so well around you.” Cregan shrugged the jacket off and threw it to the couch casually before entering the kitchen to wash his hands and get some tea, “He’s a total menace when you are not here. He wouldn't go to bed last Saturday and I had to promise him a vacation to Dorne in the summer and ten private museum tours.”

“Maybe he just likes me better.” Jacaerys joked. Contrary to most people’s belief, Jacaerys was not as serious as he looked. Granted his sense of humor could be considered dry in common standards, but Cregan found it charming. In fact, he found everything about Jace charming, from the young man’s intelligence, diligence, strong sense of responsibility, to his handsome features, relatively small but toned body (do not ask how Cregan knew it) and those pink lips that looked so soft and kissable.

“Perhaps.” Cregan said, pouring milk and sugar into his tea as if his life depended on it, “I like you very much, so maybe Rickon takes after me.”

Jacaerys’s smile disappeared, replaced by something unreadable.

“We talked about this, Cregan.” Jacaerys lowered his voice, as if he feared there were ears in the wall, “You are married. I am your son’s sitter. We cannot-”

“I am going through a divorce, Jace.” Cregan said, stopping at the high chair where Jacaerys sat, “And Rickon is sleeping, so technically, you are off duty now.”

Jacaerys could smell the aftershave from Cregan, fresh woody scent with a hint of musk, reminding him of a cozy cabin in the snow. Cregan always made him feel cozy, like sitting beside a burning hearth. Chatting with the Stark had become Jace’s favorite pastime, and he had grown very fond of the man, but it didn't mean he could cross the line. Call him a conservative, but it just didn't feel right to develop a relationship with your employer, no matter how much Jace wanted it.

“Relax.” Cregan said, stopping right behind Jace, “I haven’t done anything inappropriate yet.”

“You shouldn’t.” Jacaerys replied, but somehow, he didn't struggle when a pair of strong arms snaked around his waist.

Cregan chuckled, resting his chin on Jace’s shoulder, his little stubble stinging the sensitive skin on Jace’s neck. Cregan felt cold, but warm at the same time. The feeling was too complicated to describe. Jace had never felt anything like this before, the slight tingling creeping up his spine, the clench of his stomach, and the lump in his throat.

“It’s up to me to decide, isn't it?” Cregan whispered in Jace’s ear, brushing his lips against Jace’s cute earlobe.

“Cregan-”

Jace never had the chance to finish his sentence, for Cregan had sealed their lips together into a passionate kiss. It was not the first time they kissed, but it was the first time Cregan’s tongue sneaked into Jace’s mouth. Cregan tasted just like how Jace had imagined it, fresh like the fresh air of a crisp winter morning and warm like a cup of hot liquor. Jacaerys should push the man away. He really should, but his mind was too clouded by the caffeine and intense reading that he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He just placed his hand on Cregan’s strong chest, but didn’t push.

“You have no idea how long I have dreamed of this,” Cregan whispered as they parted to catch their breath, “and what kind of nasty thoughts are on my mind whenever I see you.”

“Pervert.” Jace murmured, his cheeks burning, “I am your son’s sitter!”

“You like me doing perverted things, don’t you?” Cregan’s large hand slipped into Jace’s sweater, roaming on the young man’s smooth skin and stopping at his nipple, “Or you won’t be like this.”

Cregan teased Jace’s stiff nipple with his fingers, pressing, pinching, and embedding his nails into the flesh. Jace jolted in surprise, breathy moans escaping his lips.

“Cregan, we really shouldn’t.” Jace tried again, but his words were powerless.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want this.” Cregan lifted his head from Jace’s neck, and looked straight into the young man’s soft brown eyes, “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

How could Jacaerys tell him to stop? Cregan felt so warm, their bodies pressing tightly together, so perfectly matched like two matching puzzle pieces. Jacaerys liked Cregan. No, hell, he fancied Cregan, from the moment he came to the house to interview for the nanny’s job. Jacaerys tried to keep his affection hidden, for he felt embarrassed and guilty that he had developed feelings for his married employer who happened to be a guy.

Jacaerys was the first to break eye contact. He couldn’t look at Cregan’s eyes anymore, so honest and open, as if making out in the kitchen when his son was fast asleep in the room was absolutely normal. Jace didn’t struggle when Cregan’s hand slipped into his sweatpants.

“You are hard.” Cregan observed, wrapping the bulge between Jacaerys’s legs in his large palm and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“You are, too.” Jacaerys said, more like a retort. He reached down to Cregan’s pants and mirrored the large man’s gesture, amazed at how large Cregan was. Jacaerys was not some pillow princess. Once he had made up his mind, he would do everything within his power to enjoy the moment. And now, he had made up his mind to fuck Cregan tonight.

Fuck moral standards. Fuck appropriateness.

“For you.” Cregan wrapped his free arm around Jace’s tiny waist and lifted the young man up onto the counter, and settled between Jace’s legs.

Jace instinctively wrapped his legs around Cregan, pressing their groins together, their hard cocks making first contact through Jace’s sweatpants and Cregan’s jeans. Even through layers of fabric, Jace could feel Cregan’s pulsing cock so much that he couldn’t help but swallow, anticipation slowly building inside him.

They kissed again, eagerly taking off each other’s clothes. Soon Jacaerys was sitting on the counter completely naked, his butt against the cool surface, his laptop and coursework completely forgotten. Cregan had taken off his shirt and his jeans were half way down his legs, exposing his massive cock and the thick bush in his groin. Cregan’s body hair was just as dark as his hair, a little rough to the touch like his stubbles, which Jacaerys just adorned.

“Fuck, you are more beautiful than I imagined.” Cregan marveled, pumping Jace’s cock with one hand and groping the young man’s tight ass with the other.

“You are more romantic than I expected.” Jace joked, sweat dripping down his curls onto Cregan’s lips, which Cregan licked clean immediately.

“I want to fuck you.” Cregan said, always so open and honest that Jace found it cute.

“Okay.” Jace nodded, opening his legs a little more.

“Okay?” Cregan asked, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

“What? Are you backing down now, Mr. Stark?” Jace chuckled, deliberately calling Cregan by the man’s family name, as if they were nothing more than employer and employee.

“No. OF course not.” Cregan flipped Jace over and covered the young man with his large form, “You cannot get rid of me now, Jace.”

Jacaerys had no such intention, but Cregan would have to wait to hear him confess.

[aegoniiwifey]

I'm back with more daddy!Aeg x daughter x Aemond- canon times

Aemond walked into Aegon's study, where Aegon was reading letters, a plate of lemon cakes on his desk, as he bit into his third one, Aemond slid a letter onto his desk, and Aegon raised a brow. "What's this, brother?" He took the letter. "It was addressed to my dear niece. From Cregan Stark's son." Aemond said cooly, and Aegon set down his lemon cake and his eyes scanned the letter, his face darkening. "He dares to ask to court her? My daughter?" Aegon snarled, and got up from his chair.

"I am her father- I am the KING-as if I would allow that brutish Northerner to lay a hand on my little princess," He went on, as Aemond, with his hand on the hilt of his sword, walked with Aegon to her sitting room. "My spies intercepted the letter before it got to her. It is not the first. It seems our little one has been corresponding with the Stark boy for a while- since he and his father were here last for the Maiden's Day Ball." Aemond told him, which only enraged Aegon more. "Fucking Stark- trying to seduce my daughter," Aegon muttered as they turned the corner, and the guards pushed both doors open. Her ladies stood and bowed before the King and the Lord Hand, and she smiled sweetly when she saw them. "Daddy, Uncle" She got off her chaise and went over to them. "Leave. Now." Aemond said to her ladies, who scrambled out at the sound of the Prince's voice. Aegon showed her the letter, saying, "What is this, little one?" Her face fell. "I- Rickon is my friend, Daddy," She tried to explain, as Aemond scoffed. "You know Daddy doesn't entertain such notions, my pet. You've been naughty, leading on the little wolf." Aegon said lowly. "And bad little girls get punished, don't they brother?" Aemond smirked, and said, "Indeed they do, brother." Yea she's getting fucked REAL good tonight.

I WANT THIS I NEED THIS!!!!

[sweetaprilbutterfly]

Jonsa Halloween event: Day 4 - Weapon - Costume - Ghost

Supernatural AU

The Starks were a happy family, until one terrible day. Catelyn and Robb Stark died in a fire under unknown circumstances. Ned Stark began to look for the reasons for what happened and discovered that supernatural things exist. Then he sends the younger children Arya, Bran and Rickon to his brother Benjen, and he takes the older ones with him and teaches them to hunt all kinds of monsters - the eldest daughter Sansa and Jon's nephew (the son of Lyanna's sister, who died giving birth to Jon, Jon's father didn't want to raise him, so Ned and Catelyn took him in and raised him as their own). When Sansa came of age, she quarreled with her father and went to study at the university. Half a year later, Jon appeared on her doorstep and reported that Ned had disappeared. Jon and Sansa team up to find him. They become closer than ever before and fall in love.