#arra speaks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

misguidedasgardian · 4 months

Text

The Hour of the Wolf (8)

VIII. Your Obstacle

MASTERLIST

Summary: You want to get out of Cregan’s way

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, pregnancy, sickness, pandemic, unrealistic timing and portraits of a pandemic, might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3 k

Notes: Now Reader and Cregan will be even... you might not like me after this 😬 anyways! Merry Christmas!

“Arra”, you woke up as he was again lost in his mind, “Arra my love”, he was dying, his mind was delusional in fever and yet, you felt your chest tightening, “Rickon”, he only whispered the name of his first wife, his childhood friend, and the one of his son

“I will care for him”

He whispered

He was burning up again, after getting better the day before when you got there to tend to him. You stood up, and searched for the Grand maester

“I can’t lower the temperature of his grace”, you cried to the man all the way in the tower of the hand

“Your grace, you should be in your rooms”, he said urgently, “if you catch the disease, we are all lost”

“I need you to help me with Cregan, he caught it”, you cried.

The man and Arryk ran to your side, and towards Cregan’s rooms, he had not eaten not drink anything since the day before, no matter how much you tried to give him sips of water.

The Maester checked on him dutifully

“His temperature is great, your grace”, he said, in his eyes… you didn’t even want to think about it, you didn’t even want to think about what it meant

“No, do something! anything!”

“Let’s prepare him a bath”. The Red Keep had been deserted, but by a handful of servants that were obligated to stay in the palace ground and have no contact with the exterior, those helped you and Arryk make a bath for Cregan.

The maester placed his boney hand on the water, the other, on Cregan’s forehead

“It’s ready your grace”, both the water and Cregan’s high temperature being the same, Arryk, the maester and you grabbed Cregan and placed him on the water slowly

He whined and grunted

He was chanting another woman’s name in his fever induced dreams, and his son’s name. She had died in childbirth, or rather after, but his son? you had kept him from him, from seeing him and taking care of him like any father should

You didn’t know what to do about that, could it be that he dreamed of the life he once had rather than the one he had now? He hadn't muttered your name not once, and you tried to focus on rather doing whatever you could to help him instead of this… silly things

But you were his wife now, and you were expecting his child, even though you haven't confirmed it with the maesters, and… he didn’t know yet, but still…. would he hold you in his thoughts as he did his former wife?

After all, the child you were carrying was not going to be his, he belonged to the Targaryen dynasty, and the Iron Throne, it was not a normal child, his heir… was in Winterfell…

You hold him as he rested in the tub, the theory was that at matching temperatures, as the water started to get more tempered, so will he, his body temperature lowering

With a cloth you kept his forehead and head also wet, with the current temperature of the water.

As minutes trespassed, his face seemed more relaxed, his temperature was indeed lowering

Would he regain consciousness? would he ever look into your eyes and speak to you again?

You had to believe he was going to

As he grunted into consciousness, the maester made him drink some tea with other herbs, and he did, that itself was an improvement.

Once the water was cold, you removed him from the water, dried him, and even he himself stood, with your help, and you laid him back down on fresh sheets.

His fever was no longer there, almost, it had worked, but the Maester had given him milk of the poppy so now he had fallen on a thick sleep.

“There it is your grace, soon he will wake, and when he does, he most likely, left this disease behind him”, muttered the Maester, “if the fever doesn’t return, if it does, please, call for me”

“Thank you”, both men left you alone with your husband

You sat by his bedside, taken his hand on yours, scared his fever will raise again

The night fell over the Seven Kingdoms, and you were so tired, that you fell asleep, your head laying on the rough sheets by his side, his hand on yours

Sleep took you without you fighting it, letting you slumber in dark dreams as dark tides swallowed you whole.

You dreamt about being in one of the royal vessels, it wasn’t nighttime, but it looked like it, the clouds so gray, so dark, they could swallow you whole. The boat was at the mercy of the waves, the sea was wild and dangerous, you felt like you lose your footing on deck

There was no one in sight but you, but you felt ghosts of people all around you, moving the sails, working the ship

You knew you had a destination and that you had come from King’s Landing, but the uncertainty as you crossed the storm was making you tremble. You were alone, nobody you knew was in sight, and in your dream, you knew… Cregan was not there with you.

Behind the clouds, you could hear a dragon, it wasn’t Vhaelar, it was someone else…

You woke up because you felt a squeeze, a gentle squeeze, you opened your eyes, alarmed, and when you managed to focus them, some gray eyes were staring back at you

“What are you doing here my love?”, he asked, and you couldn’t help but cry out of happiness and relief, once you placed your hand on his head, making sure he was clear of the fever

Two months, you had been battleting the disease that stretched out far and wide, but as it came, it went away… for those who survived…

Within the castle, it had taken many lords and ladies, but the most important within your circle was… Alicent and Lord Tyland Lannister.

The former, that sick woman, literally and figuratively, has snuck out of her rooms, sick with the winter fever, and tried to barge into the nursery, Jahaera and Aegon’s rooms. According to Arryk, she had screamed the name of your baby brother with “murderous intent”, she wanted to see him, to make him catch the disease as she screamed, scaring the children, which only worsened the situation because then the mad Queen was conscious that Jahaera was there… her only living descendant

She lost it then, but she was a sickly and weak woman, and once the soldiers gathered she was easily taken back and locked in her rooms.

She refused her green dresses, she wanted to jump off a window, in the end she died with sorrow on her face and your mother’s name on her tongue.

You felt relief, and you couldn’t hide it

But the loss of Tyland did strike you and your family. He had been there since you could remember, even if sometimes he was an idiot, he was there, and had been faithfully for you since Aegon died, probably poisoned with his help

Anyways, you were barely getting the hand of your small council.

But the Lannisters did not want to let the post go, so they were going to send Tyland’s cousin. You were looking forward to him, now with Tyland gone, and Jason dead in the war, the line had to change within the Lannister House, but it remained strong, as they assured you.

You wanted to be so relieved that Cregan survived, but every time you saw his face, you were reminded of his face twisted in fever and agony, chanting another woman’s name like a prayer.

You felt so terribly guilty for keeping him here.

So you… as soon as he was better… you demanded of him to go to Winterfell

“No, I’m not leaving you”, Cregan said, passing around the room

“You need to go home, Cregan, to aid in this crisis, the maester suggests that once you caught it and survive, you won’t caught it again”, you said quickly

“The disease is still raging, you are still…”

“I won’t catch it”, you said firmly, “I’m from the blood of old Valyria, blood forged with magic”, you said, he chuckled, mocking you, but you were not joking

“My love..”, he said condescendingly, but you didn’t budge.

“Tyland’s cousin is coming, the realms are at peace, it’s time”, you sentenced

He didn’t fight you anymore, and it broke your heart even more to see the excitement in his gorgeous eyes. He might be trying to deny you, but he couldn’t hide it, he was excited to leave, and you couldn’t blame him

The mere thought of being without him for so long made your stomach twist, you hand instinctively went to your lower belly, Cregan noticed

“Are you well?”, he asked, you nodded

“I’m fine”, you said

“You look different”, he said with caution

“It was a hellish week”, you answered back

“I see”

You had yet to confirm your doubts with the maester, but you were certain

You were with child

And you were about to send the father back home for spite, well, not quite, but, you were pushing him away, to leave your side. Without him knowing.

So as Cregan was distracted with preparations for his departure, you went to visit the Grand Maester.

“Wonderful news, you are indeed with child your grace”, the old man said, he had been your mothers Maester, he probably aid in your own birth, his eyes filled with tears of happiness

“I’m so glad”, you muttered, “but we must keep this between us, it’s to soon”, he nodded eagerly

“Are you going to tell Lord Cregan?”, he asked

“I’m not sure”, you admitted

“But the hand is leaving your grace”, he said softly.

“I know”, you said shortly

Within a week, Cregan was ready to leave, and even though you wanted to cry and hold onto him, you stood in front of him in the Royal Harbor

“If you take a lover, please be careful, and don’t let him plant his seed in your belly”, he whispered, you only looked at him

“The same goes to you husband, don’t plant your seed on another woman’s field”, you answered meaningly

“Wouldn’t dream of it”, he whispered

“Good”, did he really think you could take anyone who isn’t him? Now you wanted to cry even more

You were angry, you didn’t even know why… Your heart was breaking at his departure, and you did not want to feel like this, you wanted to get it over with

Your marriage still did not feel concrete enough, he, Cregan, has as well been forced to marry you, nothing else, and even though he and you too have taken joy in bedding each other, there was nothing else there.

Yes he cared for you, but like a sworn sword would care for his princess, nothing else

He frowned when he saw how you evaded him with your eyes

“You are alright? I’ll be back before you even notice”

“You will lose the tide, my love”, you said soulesly, “you should go”, that would have offended him, if he hadn't seen you all angry and offended like you were. He only smirked.

You were angry because he was leaving

And that made him glad somehow

You cared

“I’ll be back before you know it, the small council already promised to keep you entertained”, he said softly

“Yes husband”, you muttered, not feeling it, you were like a little child, being comforted by a parent.

“And I wouldn’t oppose a visit from you, on dragonback”, he teased, you barely smiled

“Very well”, you muttered

“I will arrive in Winterfell in three weeks”, he said with hope in his voice, you barely nodded, again, evading his gaze.

You weren’t angry at him, you were angry at the situation, but it still hurt, very much so, his departure, the thought of not having him by your side, in your bed, not waking him to his hand on your body and his lips on yours

But he had called another woman’s name on his sleep

He leaned in, grabbing your face on his hands softly, and he kissed you hungrily, with longing, you did as well

“Please send word, whatever happens, anything”, he demanded against your lips, you only nodded

“Yes my lord husband”, he gave you a last smile and nodded.

He was taking a grand part of his army with him, those who wanted to return home, but many stayed, in King's Landing or in the Riverlands.

As you watched him go, you turned to the maester

“Your grace! you didn’t tell him”, he chided softly

“What kind of wife would I be if I kept him from his son this long? the fever almost took him, what if he never saw his child again?”, you whined, but as you watched the boat sail away, you wiped those thoughts from your mind. You turned to the maester with a soft smile

“We shall tell the small council, that I am with child, now that my husband has just left, I will not give ground for doubts on the paternity of my unborn child as were my brothers”

“Never, my sweet gracious lady”, he said, “we shall tell them this very meeting later today”, you only smiled softly

You summoned them as soon as the ship’s sails were no longer visible in the horizon

“Lord Cregan just left, we expect him to return in less than a year”, you said firmly, you didn't know where the strength came, you wanted to be curled up in your room, crying, hugging your pillow, your chest was constricted against the fabric of your dress.

You missed him already

You can’t believe he is gone, that you were not going to see him for the next year, or so… that you were expecting his child, and you were going to give birth to him or her… alone, completely alone, without your husband

But it was the right thing to do, you knew it, you couldn't be this selfish, he had a family of his own, a whole country that he needed to see. If you would have told him, he wouldn’t have left, another year far from home, another year away from his son.

You couldn’t have that

“The year will pass swiftly your grace”, muttered Lord Redwyne, “not to worry”

“There is something else”, you said, sharing glances with the Maester, “I’m with child”, there was a few awkwards silent seconds, and then the room exploded with cheers and words of encouragement

“That is great news, your grace!”

“A new prince or princess! A new era!”

“The country is flourishing again”

You only smiled

“Congratulations your grace”, said Lord Celtigar by your side, “But Lord Cregan just left”, he muttered

“Yes, in reality he does not know, and we must kept it that way”, you said firmly and the room was quiet, “he needed to go back home, to resolve some matters of the greatest importance, and he wouldn’t have gone if he knew the news”

“Very well, as your grace commands”, said Lord Redwyne

“This is for the greater good”, you assured them, and the men at the table changed their concerned looks.

You didn’t even wanted to go back to your rooms, you wanted to keep yourself distracted, the castle was still in high alert because of the disease, but still, you finally were able to visit your brother Aegon and Jahaera, who, against all odds, had finally bonded in a somewhat sweet friendship.

They already know how to read, so all this time in confinement had allow them to read and read, history books, children’s books, books about animals, their minds were distracted and absorbed in other things, they had finally managed to reach some other emotions rather than sorrow, and you were so grateful

Their nannies were excellent and had aid them in that as well, keeping them distracted

But the night came anyways, no matter how distracted you kept yourself, and even though if for the past two months you had been sleeping alone, now that you knew Cregan was not even in the castle, that each passing second he was sailing further and further away… you couldn’t sleep

And when you did, terrible nightmares tortured your mind

You were again on that ship, Cregan was with you and… the waves and the storm dragged you to the bottom of the ocean, the waves tearing you apart.

You were alone again, and it was of your own making.

Cregan could already feel the cold breeze hit his face, he was excited, he couldn’t wait any longer to get home…

He looked over his shoulder, back towards King’s Landing, where you had remained, he had second thoughts about leaving you, he did, but he knew you were going to be alright, you had to be. You were stronger than you seemed

You were surely going to visit him in Winterfell, right?

You didn’t want to admit it, but you cared for him, you did, you had challenged a dangerous disease just to tent him, made sure he survived. Being with you strengthening your relationship was vital, but… either way, you were not yet with child, once you were, he was never going to part from your side, so it had to be now, that is what he thought

He didn’t need to stay one year away, he was going back home with news for his sister and to feel the current climate, that wat, he might even be able to return sooner to you, perhaps you even felt stronger to fly back to Winterfell to see him, that would certainly improve everything, he thought

When he came back, he was going to tell you to make a tour throughout the Kingdoms, they needed to see you, see their Queen.

He breathed in the fresh sea breeze, and smiled.

He was coming home to see his son, and yet, he couldn’t wait for you to see Winterfell, he couldn’t wait for you to meet his son… He couldn’t wait… for your future together.

He had survived, thanks to you, he had survived the deathly fever, for you, for his son, for the children he knew you were going to give him, for the future of the Kingdoms.

He just needed to… learn to combine his worlds together.

taglist!

@lyannesworld @tremendouswolfsaladranch @unlesshouse @mimsie95 @ostricx @amelia26200 @marihoneywk @ahristata @happinessinthebeing @dd122004dd @lyannesworld @aestmilky @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @stargaryenx @good-night-starlight @yentroucnagol @beebeechaos @brakingboundaries @duds31 @persophonekarter

#misguidedhour #cregan stark x oc #cregan stark x reader #cregan #cregan x reader #cregan stark #targaryen!oc #targaryen!reader #house targaryen #house stark #hbo house of the dragon

319 notes · View notes

cliozaur · 2 months

Text

From the pictures, Arras appears to be a charming city. However, Valjean is greeted by unwelcoming dark streets where he soon finds himself lost. What a clever move from the old man – to prearrange his swift retreat and have everything ready for departure at night.

Did you notice how crowded the courthouse was in the late evening? In French courts, public admission to hearings was a relatively new trend. Under the ancien régime, courts were closed to the public, and in the eighteenth century, you could only learn about what was happening through specific pamphlets, which were extremely popular. After the Revolution, courts were open and became quite an entertainment for the audience. In the case of the Arras court on the night of Valjean’s arrival, they seem to have a cause célèbre – a woman accused of committing infanticide. It’s so somber.

I love Valjean speaking “in an authoritative manner.” It’s a pity it won’t last.

Contemporary Arras:

#les mis letters #lm 1.7.7 #les miserables #jean valjean

70 notes · View notes

avergehistoryenjoyer · 1 year

Text

Ladies and gentlemen, it’s official! I’m writing a musical!

For those of you in the community who have known me for a while, this is nothing new, but I’ve been working on it for quite awhile, so I finally want to unveil what I have so far.

The show is officially called “Tyrant! The Story of Robespierre” or just “Tyrant!” for short, and here’s my first concept for the album cover below!

As for the actual story and songs, right now I’m planning on having 16 songs per act, and I’ll format the songs I’ve written or am currently in the process of writing!

Italic = work in progress

Bold = fully written

With that being said, this is the song catalogue and all I’ve gotten done so far!

Act 1:

Tyrant! (Show opener) - immediately after his death

Address for the King - early childhood

Never shall we part - transition from childhood to adulthood, meets Camille

Song addressed to Miss Henriette - young adulthood

And So I Reminisce - trio song for the siblings

He Just Can’t Stop - lawyer career in Arras

Let Us Speak/We Swear - Estates general + tennis court oath

Camille’s Address (Bring It Down) - Storming of the bastille

Hey Ladies! (Theroigne’s song + Women’s March on Versailles)

Bienvenue aux Jacobins - Joins the Jacobin club and meets Danton, gets elected president of the club

Never shall we part (1st reprise) - Camille’s marriage to Lucile

Escape (Louis + Marie flee Paris, Champ de Mars massacre)

There’s Safety Here (Robespierre meets Maurice Duplay, moves into the Duplay house)

This Means War! (Speeches against the war and Brissotins, war gets declared anyways)

The Tuileries Tango (Storming of the Tuileries and overthrow of the monarchy)

Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité For All (Establishment of the republic, Robespierre at his height, his big “I want” song)

Act 2:

Incorruptible (Saint-Just’s debut and Robespierre’s election to the National convention)

So Ends the Reign of Tyranny (Louis’ trial and execution)

Bienvenue aux committee/ Bienvenue le Jacobins (reprise) (Appointment to the CPS)

Choose Your Side/And So I Reminisce (reprise) (Charlotte and Augustine’s fight, fracture in the family, duet with Élèonore, PLATONIC, NOT ROMANTIC)

Principio Ad Finem/ A late night’s walk (“darker” ‘I want’ song, NOT A VILLAIN SONG )

What is he doing? (Camille publishes his paper and says stupid stuff)

Never Shall We Part (2nd and 3rd reprises) (Max and SJ duet, Camille’s denouncement from friends to enemies)

A Meeting/Make Him a Monster (CPS meeting, Thermidorian villain song)

You’re Unwell (Eleonore and SJ duet, Max falls ill/ slowly loosing his sanity)

So Ends the Reign of Tyranny/ Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité for All (reprise) (Arrests and executions of Camille, Danton and their followers, closest thing to a villain song for Robespierre)

This Glorious Day (Festival of the Supreme Being, more Thermidorian conspiring)

Principio Ad Finem (reprise) (Max writes his 8 Thermidor speech)

My Final Bow (8 Thermidor speeches for the convention and the Jacobins)

We Swear/Let Me Speak! (9 Thermidor denouncement and arrest)

Requiem (Hotel De Ville siege, bullet to the jaw, death, 11th hour power ballad)

May You Ne’er Be Forgotten (basically charlotte’s ‘who lives who dies who tells your story’, her 11th hour power ballad, grand finale of the show)

I know that was a lot thrown at y’all, and obviously I’ve still got a long ways to go, but I’ll be working hard at it all summer, and I hope to have at least half of the first act finished by the end of this summer! I’ll keep working on asks too now that my schedule’s freed up, but I thought it’d be a fun announcement to share with all of you for Max’s birthday, and I can’t wait for you to see the rest of it! Love you all! ❤️❤️❤️

-Syd

#robespierre #Maximilien Robespierre #Tyrant! The story of Robespierre #musical #musical theatre

288 notes · View notes

damn-stark · 1 year

Text

Chapter 4 Snow on the beach

Chapter 4 of Moonlight

A/N- last full Cregan chapter, now onto Aemond, let’s see if he can beat Lord Stark

Warning- Swearing, ANGST, FLUFF!, Talks of blood and death, suggestive nfsw, LONG CHAPTER.

Pairing- Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader, Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- Before 1x08

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*127 AC*

“…we’re hoping for a girl. So if the gods are generous you will have that sister you always wanted, wouldn’t that be great? Having a girl? Daemon also hopes for the babe to be a girl. He said maybe you could choose a name, would you like that? I think it’s a marvelous idea, please write your ideas.”

A girl? Your mother is hoping for a girl again?

Maybe it’s because you’re far away from her and you haven't seen her in four years, but the idea of her having another daughter beside you makes you feel bitter with jealousy.

Is that cruel to feel?

“Anyway, I’m glad you have made friends with Lady Arra, I hate the thought of you being alone so far away. Tell me is she kind? It’s okay to admit if she’s rude and a bitch—”

You snicker softly at your mothers words regardless of your previous feelings.

“—it’ll stay between us. But if you don’t feel comfortable telling your mother then tell your cousins or your brothers. They won’t tell, trust me, Jacaerys never wants to show me what you write to each other now. But, I am glad that you share a bond regardless of distance. I know he misses you as I do, my Sweet. Everyday.

I love you so much.

Love always, your mother, Rhaenyra.”

You put the letter down on the desk and simply smile softly. You don’t cry anymore when you read her letters.

The first two years that's all you could do, cry as you read what your mother, grandmother, brothers, and even what your cousins wrote. You just longed to be by their side again, you missed them terribly. But when your rendezvous with Cregan and you changed to secret forbidden romantic nights, you stopped crying at night and when you read the letters from home.

Now albeit you feel like starting crying again. Is it stupid to feel jealous about her having another daughter? Is it foolish to feel like you’ll be replaced?

You’re so far away, you’ll always be far away because of your marriage to Aemond, having another daughter will cure that longing to have you with her. Having another daughter means she’ll replace you because it’s a daughter shared with the man she’s in love with, not someone she married out of political gain, not someone who had different preferences. She’ll be the apple of your mothers eye, of their eye—

No! No, It’s stupid, you’re being stupid. Your mother loves you, she’ll never do such a terrible thing.

Albeit…before when she was with Ser Harwin having her hope for another girl didn’t fill you with jealousy because at least you had your father; he wasn’t always available, but he was there, he loved you too. He’s gone now though, so if she does replace you you’ll have no one.

~~~

*4 FEW YEARS BACK*

“All right, now…” he trails off and glances around the ship, you follow his line of gaze to see what he’d point to, but he then turns around and points at something else completely. “…that. What do we call that and what’s its use?”

You squint your eyes on the large spar that extends forward from the ship's vessel prow, and think back to what he and Ser Qarl have taught you whilst on your way to Dragonstone. Out of all the things you’ve learned it takes time to come up with the answer right away, but it then comes to mind. “It’s the bowsprit!” You clap out of excitement. “And it prevents the ship from…uh, being submerged in water when the waters are rough!”

“Yes!” Your father exclaims. “Yes! Good job.”

You skip forward and then speak to Ser Qarl. “I’ve thought of a scenario, all right, Ser Qarl.”

Said man leans his arm against a barrel and scoffs in amusement before he softly throws his chin up to gesture you to share what he asked of you a while ago. Something you thought of with a lot of precaution.

“I’m on deck, and then whoa, I get attacked,” you tell as you clasp your hands back and walk towards the quarter deck. “Pirates are coming on the ship, my crew is getting hurt, so then I run forward, use my blade to cut the main yard and swing across the deck to save them, and myself.” You spin around and face both men with a smile. “Huh? Is that good?”

Ser Qarl and your father share a glance and break into a chuckle, making your smile falter.

They think it’s stupid don’t they? Yes, you knew it, it’s too dramatic and childish.

“That’s,” your father clears his throat and walks over to you to wrap his arm around your shoulders. “That’s a great plan, darling, well thought out.”

You look up at him with hesitation and probe. “Really?”

He shoots you a grin and nods. “Yes, really.”

“You’ll make a fine sailor,” Ser Qarl compliments. “Probably one better than your father.”

You giggle and once again can’t help but bring back your smile to your features.

“Yes,” your father agrees. “You will. You’ll make a legendary sailor.”

~~~

*NOW*

“See! That’s how you do it!” Cregan exclaims and smiles as he admires the arrow impaled exactly at the center of the makeshift target. “Let’s see you best that.”

What if he wants to replace you? Prince Daemon? He has daughters, but those are his own, what if for some reason he just wants to replace you?

“Y/N.”

No it’s unbelievable that she’d want to do that. She loves you, all of you, in fact she was often advised that she not be so affectionate towards any of you, especially towards your brothers. So she wouldn’t just replace you.

No?

“Y/N?” Cregan calls again and this time touches your shoulder, snapping you from your mess of thoughts raveld in your brain.

“Yes?” You query and meet his curious grey eyes.

Cregan blinks and then points again at the target with his eyes. “It’s your turn darling,” he says and quickly looks back at you to study you.

Albeit before he catches anything you lift up your bow and an arrow to then go stand where Cregan was. You exhale softly to try and forget what you were thinking of and shift your feet and lift your arms. You get the arrow in position and get ready to shoot it, but hands then fall on your arms, making your breath catch and your gaze drift to the corner of your eyes as Cregan stands behind you.

“Relax your bow arm,” he advises softly as he holds your gaze the entire time.

You can’t help but smile and stare at his lips.

“You did hear me?” He asks.

You relax your bow arm like he said and nod.

“Just making sure, you’re not looking at me in the eyes,” he teases.

You roll your eyes and slowly meet his gaze with a playful smirk. He snickers and then steals a kiss from your lips before he stands back.

You flash him a giddy grin before you look back at the makeshift target, you then exhale deeply again and let the arrow fly.

Albeit the arrow whizzes past the target clung onto a thin tree.

“I see,” Cregan stifles his laugh. “That was terrible.”

You sigh and lower your arm to stand back without meeting his gaze, your mind is just too caught up.

“Your teacher must not be so good, you missed the target. You’re usually good.”

“The tree is too thin,” you throw out the first complaint that comes to mind.

“The target isn’t the problem,” Cregan says. “When we go hunting the prey is moving. At battle the target is moving as well. This, this is easy.”

“I won’t use a bow and arrow,” you mutter and briefly meet his gaze. “I’ll have a sword in battle, and Astraea.”

Since you look up at the bird flying overhead you miss the way Cregan reads you and sees right through your troubled mind right away.

“The target isn’t the problem,” he repeats and leans his equipment against the tree behind him to approach you. “What’s wrong? What troubles you my darling?” He asks softly and grabs the stuff from your hands to put it by his.

You’ll sound like a total whiner, a spoiled brat. He’s more humble than most of the people at Kings Landing, so he probably won’t agree.

Yet all these thoughts are overflowing your mind and they’re beginning to drown you, you can’t hold back anymore. Besides he is your best friend, and your…paramour? Partner? No that sounds too official, you aren’t. Paramour sounds right—he’s your secret paramour, he should know what troubles you.

“It’s,” you begin to share and sigh deeply. “It’s my mother. She’s with child again.”

“That’s great news, I’m happy for you,” Cregan responds with happiness right away, albeit you continue frowning and with your eyes gleaming. He notices and backtracks. “Is it not great news?”

You mindlessly grab the pendant your grandmother had given you and meet his gaze. “They’re hoping for a girl, again. Aegon came out as a boy so they’re hoping for a girl this time…to replace me.”

Cregan scoffs and shakes his head as he looks at you as if you’re mad. “What? Darling, why would you think that?”

Tears fill your eyes as you’re slammed with sadness. “Because,” you share in a shaky voice. You can’t even look at Cregan in the eyes, it just heightens that anguish in your heart. “Unlike Aegon and this new baby they’ll have soon, I wasn’t made out of love. My parents had a duty to commit, not Prince Daemon and my mother. They love each other, their kids are made out of love. She wants to replace me with a daughter she wasn’t forced to have. A different daughter that…” you pause and shake your head whilst you wipe the tears that managed to break out. “…that’s not like me.”

Cregan sighs before he closes the gap between the two of you with an embrace. “Oh my darling girl,” he says as he begins to caress your back. “That’s the most maddest thing I’ve heard.”

Now that you’re in his embrace, as his comforting smell filters in your nose you can no longer hold back your tears, you cry softly as you hug him.

“I may not know your mother, but from what you’ve told me, it seems she loves you,” he assures you. “She’d never replace you. Never. Who would replace a woman like you?” He asks and pulls back to then cup your cheeks. “It’s like if you had a daughter already, wouldn't you want another if the gods were generous enough?”

Well when he puts it that way.

“I suppose I would,” you whisper.

Cregan offers you a faint smile and nods. “See? You just miss your mother, that’s all. Besides you’re her eldest you’re special to her, you always will be no matter who comes along.” He wipes your tears away and then leans and presses a gentle kiss on your lips before pressing one on your forehead. “You’ll always be my favorite girl regardless.”

You slowly begin to smile at him before you lean over to steal a lingering kiss from him, making him smirk under your kiss and then deepen it. When you pull back you lean your forehead against his and wipe his lips with your thumb.

“Thank you Cregan,” you whisper with your heart beginning to race as words begin to run up your throat. “I don’t know how I’d survive being so far away without you.”

The corner of his lips tug to a soft smile and he then whispers against your lips. “I’m the one that should be thankful, the gods put you in my life and saved me from this loneliness I was bestowed with.”

Your entire face burns and you can’t help but slam your lips against his. Right away Cregan slides his hands to the sides of your head and begins to push you back against the tree, whilst your hands travel to the back of his neck, and your nails dig into his skin.

Driven by passion Cregan then begins to slide his hands down, letting them linger on your breasts before he tears open the top part of your dress, making you gasp. But your disbelief only lasts for a few seconds because you then give in and begin to unbuckle his shirt.

Albeit he then pulls away and leans his forehead against yours, causing you to reach for more, but he stops you. “Who would I be if I made you mine?” He mumbles between pants. “I can’t.”

You grab his cheek and assure him. “You won’t dishonor yourself or me because I love you.”

Cregan scoffs in disbelief and can’t help his smile from spreading on his face. “We said we wouldn't fall in love.” He reminds you of your ultimatum.

You sigh. “I couldn’t resist myself, not when you’re the very breath in my lungs. Without you I can’t breathe.”

It might be foolish to say, no it is stupid since you won’t marry, but it’s a truth you can’t hide. He’s driven you too madly in love.

Cregan grins. “If that’s so then I can finally relieve myself of this weight I’ve been carrying for too long and say that I love you too.”

You smile at him and steal a kiss, making him whisper against you lips. “Give me the privilege of giving me your maidenhead then, of being mine. Only mine.”

You meet his gaze and never think about Aemond, he doesn’t cross your mind when you’re with Cregan. Neither of you think of the consequences of what could happen, you’re too driven by lust and passion, by love.

“As long as you are mine,” you whisper as you pull his shirt off.

Cregan grins and nods. “From this day until the end of my days,” he whispers against your lips as he holds your gaze and nothing else.

——

*128 AC*

Screams fill the room while the sour metallic smell of blood begins to filter the room.

“Come on My Lady push! The babe is almost out!” The midwife instructs Lady Arra.

Albeit Lady Arra throws her head back and shakes her head. “I can’t,” she cries out shakily. “I can’t! It hurts! Please don’t make me go on, please,” she begs with streams of tears mixing with the thick beads of sweat that bath her face.

“Arra,” you mumble and lean over to grab her jaw and tilt her head to the side so she can meet your gaze. “Arra, I know it hurts, I know, but you have to keep going for your babe. If you don’t then they’ll die,” you share the harsh truth so she can get inspired. “The pain is almost over. I promise.”

Turns out that Lady Arra didn’t turn out to be a concern you worried she’d be, unexpectedly she turned out to be a good friend even if you do love her husband. Sure it took time to become friends mostly because you pushed away the possibility out of your fear that she hated you, but she didn’t, she doesn’t.

Turns out that her preferences are different, she enjoys the company of women, mainly that of her handmaiden. She just put on an act that day Cregan became Lord to fool the masses. Which is a relief, you probably wouldn't be able to handle the guilt if she actually loved him.

“Something,” she stammers as she holds your gaze. “Something feels wrong.”

You look up and meet the gaze of her handmaiden/lover and share a concerned look before you look at the abnormal amount of blood that is pooling around her.

“We won’t let anything bad happen to you,” her handmaiden assures her even if you both knew the cruel truth. “Promise,” she says in a way that doesn’t involve the others, but doesn’t give away that her words are coming solely from her own heart, not that of the others.

“Push, My Lady, push!” They instruct again, and she listens, she puts as much effort as she can into delivering the babe that Cregan and her managed to make.

However, she lost too much blood as the babe struggled to come out of her. She didn’t even get to meet her baby boy, she took her last breath as he cried for the first time.

Now you dreaded for Cregan to know. He didn’t love her, but he did care for her; she was his friend since he was a child, he was the mother of his newborn son. The moment she began to bleed he left the room. So now no one can find him, but you know where he is.

It’s obvious too. It’s the only place he can think of going to at such a desperate moment. The Godswood.

“Cregan,” you call out as you see him sitting on a tree trunk by the red leafed Heart tree.

Said man looks up with gleaming eyes. You approach him first, and then unclasp your hands to pick up your dress skirt as you crouch down in front of him. “It’s a boy,” you share with a faint smile.

Cregan smiles at the ground and murmurs. “Rickon.”

You take his hands in yours and lose your smile as the dread to share the news begins to choke you, threatening you not to speak. Albeit he looks up at you and sees right through you, he sees the tears stains now on your cheeks and the new tears beginning to form, and knows.

“No,” he mutters and shakes his head. “No it cannot be true.”

You sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

Cregan drops his head to hide his sorrow from you. After all these years he still hides his anguish, but now he doesn’t put on a brave face and then hide away in his chambers, now he lets you see his vulnerability. He lets you comfort him.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat and begin to caress his back. “I’m sorry.”

Cregan drops his head on your shoulder, letting you slide your hands to the back of his neck so you can gently caress it. You stay like that for a while longer, not as long as either of you would have liked but you couldn’t be caught being so affectionate so, when the others found him you let go and pretended like nothing happened.

You learned to get better at pretending. The first year of your secret relationship you were almost caught doing things friends shouldn't do too many times, luckily it didn’t happen and a scandal didn’t spread.

All because of Lady Arra, she offered her aide then, she taught you how to be very discreet. Well, you were sneaky before, but you would get caught before, because of her you didn’t and won’t. She helped a lot…

It’s why you wish you could pretend that Lady Arra’s death didn’t wound you, but it did. Not as much as your fathers death did, no, she didn’t leave a gap in your heart like he did, but her death ached.

At least she leaves a part of herself with baby Rickon. Now that she’s gone albeit…there’s one problem, your departure. You had made the excuse when the five years were up that you wanted to wait for Lady Arra to give birth; the Queen granted it, but now?

Now Arra’s gone and the baby is here, meaning you will leave soon. You’ll leave Cregan.

Perhaps that’s what truly aches, knowing that Lady Arra’s death means that your time here has also come to an end.

You’ll have to leave and face…Aemond.

Seven hells.

You exhale deeply and fall on your bed now that you were in your semi sheer white nightgown.

All the walls that surround you that you once thought dull and bland, and the ceiling above you that you hated looking at when you first got here will soon change for you. This freedom you have here will soon change to a never ending pester. People are somewhat nice, they are certainly a lot nicer now than they were the first year, they’re not racist anymore, but soon you’ll be surrounded by creeps like…Aegon.

Albeit creeps like him exist even here at Winterfell so that won’t change that much. The silence at night though, that will change and you’ll miss it too…

“Damn.” You grumble. “Maybe they should catch us together. It’ll be a bit of a scandal, but what of it.” You groan and sit up to push yourself off the end of your bed and walk to your balcony.

Perhaps the coldness is the one thing you won’t miss, but the silence, the tranquility you will miss the most after Cregan.

You sigh, and fold your arms over the railing to rest your chin on your hands as you admire the empty street below. You let the silence linger for a moment before you begin to laugh quietly to yourself. Once upon a time when you lived in Kings Landing, you’d look down at the streets below past your window, you'd see the calamity of everyday life and wish to be amongst it, now you’ve found peace here and wish to stay here in this castle amongst the tranquility.

Have you grown or have you forced yourself to make peace with your life?

You don’t know. So you sigh again and turn your head to the side, catching there in that moment the rare blue winter rose on the corner of your railing.

A smile spreads on your lips and you rush over to pick it up, finding a small scroll around the stem. When you open it you see a small sentence; “meet me in my quarters.”

That’s bold of him, but you don’t argue, you’ve found ways to sneak to him. You use the same methods now with no hesitation and find yourself in his quarters, you find him looking out his own balcony.

When you make sure no one is approaching you break your silence. “Cregan?” You call out carefully, finding his still behavior odd.

Said man turns, and you quickly add on. “Are you all right?”

The corner of his lips twitch to a slight smile. “Rickon is the most precious thing ever.” He begins to walk to you, and you don’t fail to head towards as well—“You have to meet him.”

You smile. “I have. Albeit our meeting was cut short. He looks like you though.”

“You think?” He asks softly.

You nod as you meet halfway right in the middle of his room. He takes no time to be sweet and grabs your hands to wrap them with his warm ones. “Baby Rickon makes me think of…our own children.”

Your heart skips a beat before it begins to race. His words are absurd, you can’t be man and wife, but hearing him say those words makes it seem like a possibility.

“Hair white as snow, kind eyes like yours,” he says and cups your cheek. “Mighty children born of ice and fire.”

You can’t help but let your smile widen. Yet you have yet to say anything on the matter because you knew deep past that illusion he’s building that it can’t happen.

“How are you doing Cregan?” You ask and avoid the topic. “Be honest.”

Said man averts his gaze and lets your hands fall to then wander away to the side of his bed and take a seat. “I,” he interjects but pauses and drops his head.

Now that racing heart he made beat slows down and sinks as you see the anguish he was trying not to show. You approach him and sink down beside him on his bed.

“I feel as if I could have done more,” he reveals and looks up to meet your gaze, letting you show the tears that gleam over his eyes. “I know I didn’t love her as I possibly should have, but she was still my friend, and she died and I couldn’t stop it.”

You shake your head and press your hand on the side of his neck to caress it gently. “It wasn’t your fault,” you comfort him. “You did not do this. What happened to Arra unfortunately is normal. There was no preventing it. It was simply the Gods will. I’m sorry.”

Cregan swallows thickly and drifts his gaze away again, letting you press his head against your chest to gently wrap your arms around his neck.

“Now what you can do to honor her memory is be Rickon’s father,” you add quietly. “He’ll need you, Cregan.”

Cregan pulls away and faces you with tears rolling down his cheeks. “I don’t know how to be a father.”

“Who is?” You counter softly. “We don’t spend our lives training to be parents. You’ll struggle, everyone does, but you’ll know one step at a time as life moves on. Be the father yours was to you,” you add as you cup his jaw.

Cregan holds your gaze for a lingering minute, his lips part and his gaze softens. He doesn’t say anytbing for a moment that seems to be eternal. But then, just as you were growing insecure about what you said he smiles before he steals a kiss from you.

“See,” he breaks his silence and grabs your cheeks. “This is why I love you. This is why you’d made a great Lady of Winterfell. Your kindness can melt the coldness that surrounds this land.”

You scoff and roll your eyes whilst you push his hands away and stand up off the bed. He lays down and watches you pace away.

“I’d also make a good Lady because I am stubborn, a good ruler needs that,” you play along, making him chuckle.

However you end your amusement fast and go serious. “But you truly can’t say that,” you mutter and grab the pillar of his bed to spin around and begin to walk to the other side. “You can’t say those things to me.”

“If I put a babe in your belly they’ll send you back to me,” he suddenly blurts, causing you to stop just as you reach the other side of the bed to stare at him in disbelief.

“You’ll have no choice but to be my wife and Lady,” he adds.

Regardless of the heat that basks your face you pretend to be bothered and grab a pillow off his bed to throw at him. Albeit Cregan catches it and snickers.

“My darling love,” he adds and then flips on his bed to crawl towards you. “Is that not your wish? Your greatest desire? I can put one in you now. Have you back with me in 60 days. ”

“Cregan,” you mumble and sigh with sadness knowing it’s not something that can happen. “You’d know what would happen if you did. Aemond would come after you, my family.”

Cregan sits up on his knees before he grabs your hand and suddenly yanks you towards him on the bed, making you yelp as you grab onto his shoulders.

“What?” He counters. “You don't think I can fight him?” He snickers and cups your face. “I’d do it. I’d fight every fucking man on this world if it meant making you my wife.”

It’s these words that only add to your ache about leaving, that only made you swoon that much more for a man you can’t have.

“I have to—”

��Quiet,” he interrupts you and covers your mouth, making you let out a muffled scoff and twist your face to demonstrate your discontent. “Don’t say it,” he says, knowing that you were going to tell him you had to leave. “Just lay with me tonight.” He pulls his hand away from your mouth and pulls you down with him so you can lie right next to him on his bed.

You debate on dwelling on the matter, but if these were your last moments then you want to appreciate them, so you don’t bring up your fate and just let him gently stroke your exposed back with his fingers. You snuggle against his warm chest and embrace him, you don’t think about anything but him in the comforting silence that blankets the two of you.

——

*A COUPLE DAYS LATER*

Tonight is the last night you’ll ever spend together. Tonight is the last night you’ll see his beautiful face basked by the moon's soft light, tonight is the last night you’ll touch his lips, laugh, and hear his sweet voice pour in your ear like honey. Tonight is the last night you’ll be embraced by his warmth, it’s the last time you’ll have his smell filter to your nose, it’s the last time you'll hear him laugh, see his smile painted on his features.

Tonight is the last night you can be lovers before you have to act as mere strangers passing through the night. And he’s making the most of it, acting as if nothing is going to happen. You try to act as clueless as him, but the thoughts keep coming back.

“Cregan,” you call out as he keeps walking on ahead deeper in the woods. “It’s far enough, and It’s cold, perhaps we should go to your quarters.”

Cregan peers back briefly and flashes you an assuring smile. “Not much further, just catch up.” He waves you over, forcing you to pick up your pace in the fresh snow that blankets the ground tonight.

However, you come to a quick stop at the same time Cregan does when a wolf's howl breaks out very close by. Or at least that’s what it seems. Maybe it’s your sudden fear that makes you hear it.

“Cregan,” you whisper out and approach him slowly to clutch onto his arm. “Let’s go back to our usual spot, come on. These aren’t our grounds.” You look out to depths of the woods to see if you’d find a pair of glowing eyes.

“These are my grounds,” Cregan corrects you and reaches for your hand. “Come let’s get closer.” He tugs you further, but you instantly yank him back.

“Are you mad?” You argue in panic and slight judgment. “There can be a pack of wolves out there.”

Cregan scoffs and grabs both of your hands to pull you towards him and counter. “And you have a fucking dragon, don’t be freigntned.”

“Astraea wouldn’t bite our faces off and shred us apart with her teeth,” you counter back louder. “The wolf will, and Astraea can only get here so fast.”

Cregan shoots you a smirk, just a simple smirk before he lets your hands fall to run ahead without you.

“Cregan?!” You call out as you stay put and just watch as he reaches the top of the small hill, before you lose his figure past some trees. “Cregan, don’t leave me alone!”

Seven hells!

Fucking man…

You squint your gaze and take a step forward, but don’t catch a glimpse of him. You just hear the sound of a wolf howling again, causing your heart to race as your fear heightens. “Cregan!” You call out for him. “Don’t jest with me!” You take another cautious step forward and stick your neck out. But still, nothing.

Alas then, from the deafening silence there’s a scream that comes from Cregan up ahead.

The wolf got him!

Rather than being hesitant, you pick up your dresses skirt and run to where you saw him disappear to, even if there’s a wolf close by.

“Cregan?!” You cry out desperately and proceed to come to a stop when you don’t see him or a wolf. “Cregan?!” You grab onto the tree and turn your head from side to side, however it’s at that exact moment that hands slap against your shoulders and a quiet “boo,” is whispered against your ear, causing you to yelp and spin around hastily.

And there Cregan is, his grey eyes reflecting the moonshine, and his smile just as bright as the stars before he breaks into a laugh. An evil laugh.

“Why would you do that?!” You remark at him with anger before you try to shove him back. However, he catches your wrists in time.

Albeit his feet aren’t planted against the ground well, and the force you put behind your hit was strong, so he loses balance and falls backward, taking you along with him since he doesn’t let go.

When he hits the ground you scramble to get up, but the hill you fell on was steep, so you accidently tumble and take him with you down the snow covered hill.

He laughs the entire way down, but you find no amusement in what happened considering he had you worried sick. “You are mean,” you grumble the moment you stop rolling and fall on him. “You are a mean man.” You try to move to the side, but he grabs your hands and tugs you back down against him.

“It was only a jest my sweet love,” he coos and grabs your face. “I just wanted to see something.”

You shoot him a glare and shake your head. “What? How bad I can get a heart attack? I thought you got hurt.”

“And you came running, I’m honored,” he counters with a smirk before he pulls you in for a kiss. Albeit you pull away and smack his chest.

“It wasn’t funny, I was worried,” you mumble with a pout and turn your head away.

Cregan finds this more amusing, so he lifts his head up and tries to steal kisses from you, but you keep pushing him away and turning your head. He finally has enough of you turning away so he presses his hand against your back before he flips you over with ease, so he can be on top of you.

“Don’t be angry with me,” he whispers. “It’s funny, laugh.”

You hold his gaze and feign a laugh, causing him to roll his eyes.

“What is it you wanted to show me?” You ask and lift your arms to grab his biceps. “Maybe that will change my mood?”

Cregan shoots you a smirk and caresses your cheek. “I’m more than content staying right here, I love the view.”

Oh his sweet words, they reel you back in with ease.

“Well,” you whisper whilst you roll your eyes. “My view isn’t terrible either. Albeit my ass is getting wet.”

Cregan feigns concern. “Really? Let me see.”

“Pft,” you blow out and slide your hands down his arms to grab his hands and let him sit you up.

“Come then,” he says and keeps your hand warm under his as he begins to pull you with him. “Let me show you the world.”

Your grin widens and that fear vanishes, leaving only curiosity and glee.

Once you arrived at where he wanted, you knew you should’ve known better because this place isn’t new, you’ve been on the hill that overlooks Winterfell before. Many times actually. It’s his favorite spot after all. Regardless, the castle from here, all the glimmering torch lights, the snow littered ground never fails to amaze you.

“Sit,” he points as he extends his cloak over the ground. “This way you won’t have to get your pretty ass wet.”

You meet his gaze and snicker as you sit, letting him lay down in front of you and rest his head on your lap.

“I’ll miss Winterfell,” you mention as you look at the castle below while you stroke his arm. “In a month's time it’s back to, “yes your Grace, no your Grace”. Locked towers. The insufferable Ser Criston Cole who thinks he’s high and mighty, and my fucking uncle Aegon, pft.” You sigh in frustration.

“I can go beat him bloody,” Cregan interjects.

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. I can handle him. Maybe show him a thing or two,” you say smugly, making Cregan smirk.

“That’s my girl,” he says.

You smile down at him and lean down to steal a kiss from his pink lips.

“If that place is such torture, then stay,” he suggests in a playful tone, but you know he’s being serious—“All your things are already here. I only need to ask your mother for your hand.”

Your smile falters, and you avert your gaze not wanting to entertain this further. You want this to be a good last night.

“I have to go see my grandfather the King, he’s clinging onto life,” you find an excuse that doesn’t involve Aemond just yet. “I miss my family. I may not be ecstatic to return to King's Landing, but I’ll see my mother again soon after I arrive. My brothers, my cousins, all my family who I miss terribly.” You sigh softly and look up at the stars to think of the only person you won’t see now; your father Laenor.

“You’ll see them at your wedding to your prince,” Cregan grumbles. “Speak the truth, you want to return to him.”

You blink in disbelief and look down at him with your face contorted in slight annoyance and shock. “No,” you counter back quickly to assure him. “No, Aemond…he’s a stranger to me now. We’re betrothed, he was my best friend, but he stopped sending ravens, he stopped caring. He means nothing more than a stranger does.”

Cregan sits up and turns to face you. “Then stay,” he snaps out. “If he truly is a stranger then stay with me. Marry me. Don’t leave me in agony.”

You sigh deeply and shake your head with a pitiful look on your face. “You know I can’t do that, it’s not that simple.” You argue.

Cregan clenches his jaw and huffs out before adding onto his argument. “I told you I’d fight him. I’ll fight everyone that comes in my way.”

You can’t let his words affect you now, no matter how fast it makes your heart beat, and how hot your face burns as you grow flustered.

“We’ve kissed, we’ve laid together, you are mine,” he continues. “I’ll kill him to prove it.”

“No,” you quickly interject, causing him to stiffen and furrow his eyebrows.

Aemond may be stranger to you but he’s still your…friend, you still…well…you care.

“He has the oldest dragon,” you add and grab Cregan's arms. “He’d kill you first. And if he does then…” you trail off and scoff. “Then what will become of me without you?”

Cregan pushes your hands away and stands up with a scowl painted on his face. “I don’t care because I hate the idea of him touching you, of him kissing you the way I kiss you. I fill with rage knowing he’ll be inside you.”

Your body begins to burn with desire at his words, at the sound of his jealousy, but you don’t let him tempt you. You just stand up and let him grab your cheeks.

“I don’t want him to see you smile, or-or feel your comfort,” Cregan continues. “He hurt you already,” he whispers and traces the scar on your face that Aemond accidentally left you with. “I just want you to be mine.”

You shiver at his gentle touch, you crave for more, but you still push him away. “If that’s so then…” you pause and let out a shaky sigh as your eyes fill with tears and a lump grows in your throat. “…I wish we had never become friends. I wish we had never met, or loved each other the way we do—”

“Don’t say that,” he cuts you off and approaches you, but you step back.

“I don’t want to be the bane of your existence Cregan,” you finish saying with tears rolling down your cheeks. “I told you before, that night we revealed ourselves to one another for the first time. And you,” you point. “You were okay with it. You knew what was going to happen. You know I’m stubborn, you knew nothing was going to change my fate.” You stifle your whimper and drop your head.

“Y/N look at me,” he says sternly.

You lift your gaze and meet his grey eyes that brew like the angriest storm.

“I’d rather die tomorrow than spend a century without knowing you,” he says, making your breath catch. “You will never be the bane of my existence. Never. Forgive me.” He approaches you and let him this time. “But I just don’t understand why you want to marry the prince. Do you not love me?”

You nod and cup his jaw to assure him. “I love you. I just…” you hesitate. “I'm just afraid of losing you. If you win a fight for my hand, Aemond wouldn't stop there. And I can’t even breathe with the thought of living my life without you. Sure we’ll be far from one another, but I’ll be content knowing your heart is beating, that we are living under the same sky,” you whisper and lower one hand to press it against his chest to feel his heart beat. “That we share the same sun, that we look at the same moon and stars.” You offer him a sad smile.

Cregan swallows thickly, and lingers there stiffly for a moment before he suddenly pulls you in for a deep but short kiss.

“So be it then,” he gives in as he pulls away. “I’ll let you go without a fight. I’ll ache for you every day, I’ll love you from afar and want nothing but happiness for you.” He presses his forehead against yours and begins to caress your face. “My sweet love,” he coos and smiles softly at you. “If I hear that he hurt you I’ll march down there and kill him.”

You chuckle and feel tears stream down your cheeks. “Okay,” you whisper. “I’ll write to you every week. Don’t forget me.”

Cregan shakes his head and scoffs. “Don’t talk mad woman, I’d never forget you. I’ll write back every week. And if you don’t get married 6 months from now I will go to your mother personally and ask for your hand.”

You beam at him and nod, knowing that you’ll be married by then. “All right. Okay. I like the sound of that.”

Cregan pulls his head back and then slams his lips on yours to kiss you again before he can’t anymore ever again.

——

*THE NEXT MORNING*

No matter how much you keep telling yourself it was going to happen, nothing could actually prepare you for leaving Winterfell, Cregan. You couldn't even sleep or eat knowing that your life was going to change again.

All your friends, Cregan, every aspect of this life is going to become nothing but good memories. Which is very hilarious considering you dreaded coming five years ago, now you don’t want to part from it. Or him.

“Farewell, my friend,” you tell Rolf who is now a Knight, and now stands a foot over you; he was small when you first met.

“Farewell, Princess, may our paths cross again,” he says back with a friendly smile.

You draw in a small breath and nod before you step forward and surprise him with an embrace. “If you ever find yourself at King’s Landing come find me, just say you want to talk to me.” You laugh softly.

Rolf tightens his arms around you and assures you. “Of course, Princess.”

You linger in the embrace for a moment longer to let this interaction take longer. Because once you part away the last person to say goodbye to is Cregan.

You’re not ready.

“Farewell, Lord Stark,” you say softly and hold back from kissing him one last time, from telling him how much you love him. “Thank you for letting me stay, for making Winterfell my home.”

Cregan clenches his fist to resist himself from comforting you, from kissing you and forcing you to stay. He holds himself back even if it pains him.

“Farewell,” he says in that stern voice he uses when he’s amongst his people. “Sweet Princess.” He steps forward as he holds your gaze and reaches his hand out to ask for yours.

You know what he wants and don’t hesitate to give him your gloveless hand. When your warm flesh touches his he carefully embraces your hand with his, and then pulls it towards his lips to press a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

You shiver at the feeling of his wet lips, and continue to hold his gaze. You let your hand linger in his as you add more to your final farewell.

“Write, I’ll be far but it doesn’t mean we still can’t maintain our friendship.” You smile and slowly pull your hand away to clasp it in front of you again.

Cregan nods softly. “I will,” he assures you and then looks away for the first time since he’s walked you to your carriage, he looks back at one of the servants and gives him a nod.

“I have something for you,” Cregan adds and meets your gaze again, sparking your curiosity. “A farewell present from me and Rickon.”

You slowly begin to grin and look at the servant who falls beside him and hands him a small wooden crate.

“I know how much you love these feline creatures so I want you take one home,” he continues and motions you over with his eyes.

When you’re a few inches before him and look into the crate, you see a small but chunky balled up dark grey kitten. “Oh,” you muse and open the crate to carefully take it out. “Hello, my beautiful friend.”

“It’s a piece of Winterfell to take with you,” Cregan interjects as he admires you comforting the kitten.

“Don’t worry, Astraea won’t eat you,” you tell the kitten. “You’ll be friends, won’t you, Wolf?” You name the grey kitten that reminds you of Cregan’s grey eyes. You then blink and look over at Cregan with a beaming grin. “Thank you Lord Stark. I love the gift. I shall love it, cherish it and always keep it safe.” You exhale deeply and let your handmaidens take the crate as you step back towards your carriage that will take you to the harbor.

“Farwell once again,” you keep longing the interaction as much as you can.

“Farewell, y/n Velaryon,” Cregan tells you one more time and clenches his hands into fists again.

This time he doesn’t ask for your hand, he doesn’t hand you another present, this time it’s time to leave. So with one last lingering look you turn and walk to the carriage with tears forming in your eyes.

When you reach the steps however, Cregan is there beside you, you meet his dark grey eyes again, one last time. You give him your hand again, let him cup it and help you up the two steps. Before you can walk inside and close the door in front of him, you linger there, you hold his comforting gaze even as Astraea lets out a soft cry in the distance.

Neither of you want to pull away, but you have to, you have to leave, so you pull away first and walk in. You let the coach close the door before Cregan and minimize your view of his beautiful face.

The coach doesn’t take long to depart from that spot it was stationed at, and even if you could only see glimpses of Cregan's grey eyes and his pale face through the little gaps designed on the window, you take that opportunity and watch him for that small second before his figure disappears before your very eyes. After that all you see is snow, endless blankets of snow.

You want to cry, but you can’t, you don’t want to give anything away, so you hold onto your kitten, Wolf, and let Astraea express your hidden sadness with her melancholy song as she follows the carriage you’re in.

Now onto the stranger that was once your best friend, who is still your betrothed, Aemond.

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton

314 notes · View notes

theothermaidoftarth · 1 month

Text

World on Fire

Chapter 2 (of 3)

Full list of cw on ao3

Excerpt:

She finds Cregan coming from the godswood, Ice cradled in his arms. The ancestral sword of House Stark could be a babe for how tenderly he carries the broadsword, swaddled in thick hide leather. He has been gracious, still seating her to his right during meals, allowing her free reign of the castle. They barely ventured to speak of Prince Jacaerys, as Rhaenyra had professed to hope; he found it painful, not unlike talking of his late wife, the Lady Arra. Those he loved and trusted and who died before their time. “Mistress Nettles.” His eyes smile at the sight of her, but then the light fades as he takes in her expression. She hopes he’s too far away to see that she’s been crying. At least she can now blame the pain from her courses. Half unthinkingly her hand falls to her abdomen. Do his eyes track the movement? “What is amiss?”

“I must ask a stay of some time, Lord Stark,” she says, her voice raspy and throat tight. She clenches and unclenches her jaw, urging the words out. “I am grounded, four or… five days.” He stares at her steadily. “It is—” she cannot bear to go on.

“I understand. Stay as long as you need.”

“I am sorry for this.”

“Do not apologise, Mistress. It is as the gods will it.”

“Would’ve been nice if they asked us what we willed,” she mutters. He regards her in that way of his, like he is waiting for her to finish her thought, like he cares to hear all that passes through her mind. She only just suppresses a wry laugh at her fancifulness. All that passes through her mind? Every passing thought? Where would he find the time for that? She barely has any herself. “I’m sorry, I’m keeping you from your business.” And thus rambling she bows her way out. She feels she has apologised more in the last two minutes than in the last four years, since her mother died. Must be something in the Northern air.

Read more on ao3

@richardsthirdnipple @witheredoffherwitch @snowprincesa1 @arcielee @emilykaldwen @hieronymph @zae5 @tremendouswolfsaladranch @lawolfe @gwenllian-in-the-abbey @aifsaath @pebblume @strangedragonqueen @acrossthesestars

#f&b fic #nettles #nettles asoiaf #nettles f&b #cregan stark #nettles x cregan #nettles x cregan stark #world on fire #OtherTarthianMaidWrites #rarepair #rare pair #a little late but yesterday was wild #and I found myself doing some editing still #part 3 shall be up next week

24 notes · View notes

beardedmrbean · 5 months

Text

Muslim pupils who expressed outrage after their teacher presented a Renaissance painting of nude women in class will be disciplined, France’s education minister has said.

A French teacher at the multicultural Jacques-Cartier college showed students the painting Diana and Actaeon by the Italian artist Giuseppe Cesari, which portrays a Greek mythology story in which the hunter Actaeon sees the goddess Diana and her nymphs bathing.

The work, which depicts a naked Diana and four female companions, is held at the Louvre museum in Paris.

Sophie Vénétitay, secretary general of the Snes-FSU secondary school teachers’ union, said: “During a French class, a colleague showed a 17th-century painting that showed naked women.”

“Some students averted their gaze, felt offended, said they were shocked,” said Ms Vénétitay, adding that “some also alleged the teacher made racist comments” during a class discussion.

A pupil’s parent sent an email to the school director saying that his son was prevented from speaking during that discussion and that he would file a complaint.

“We know well that methods like that can lead to a tragedy,” Ms Vénétitay told BFMTV news. “We saw it in the murder of Samuel Paty. Our colleagues feel threatened and in danger.” Teachers at the Issou school said that pupils admitted lying about events in their art class but that the damage had been done. “We’re dealing with vindictive parents who prefer to believe their children than us,” they said. Gabriel Attal, the education minister, visited the school in person on Monday and later said that a disciplinary procedure would be launched “against the students who are responsible for this situation and who have also admitted the facts”.

A team would also be deployed to the school to ensure it adhered to the “values of the republic”, he said.

Staff at the Jacques-Cartier middle school in Issou, west of Paris, refused to work on Monday, saying they feared for their safety given the recent murders of two teachers by jihadi terrorists.

Dominique Bernard was stabbed to death by a Muslim man in his school’s playground in the northern town of Arras in October.

In 2020 a civics teacher, Samuel Paty was stabbed and beheaded by a terrorist in Conflans-Sainte-Honorine, 12 miles from Issou, after he showed his pupils a caricature of Mohammed in a class on free speech.

In an email sent to parents on Friday, teachers said they were exercising their right to stay away from classrooms over the “particularly difficult situation” and “an increase in cases of violence” as their daily reality.

Deteriorating discipline at the school

The school’s head teacher recently asked the education ministry for more staff and resources to deal with deteriorating discipline at the school, saying that fights and death threats and threats of rape had become common among pupils.

“We feel we are clearly in danger. We are supported by our direct superiors but not from higher up. This is a real call for help,” said one teacher.

Last week a Paris court convicted six teenagers over their role in events that led to the beheading of Mr Paty, who was their teacher at the middle school in Conflans when he was killed by Abdoullakh Anzorov, an 18-year-old of Chechen origin.

In another sign of school-religion tensions, the state this week said it would withdraw funding for the country’s biggest state-subsidised Muslim high school. In its teaching of Muslim ethics, the Averroes school, in Lille, was found to be violating French republican values.

On Tuesday, Jordan Bardella, leader of the hard-Right National Rally party, warned that “freedom of expression is under threat in France from an all-conquering political Islam that is imposing on our society its laws, its way of life and its prohibitions”.

#nunyas news #good

39 notes · View notes

microcosme11 · 11 months

Text

Charlotte Robespierre mentions Bonaparte in her memoirs

Bonaparte had a very high regard for my two brothers, and especially for the eldest; he admired his talents, his energy, the purity of his patriotism and his intentions. So Bonaparte was sincerely a republican; I would even say that he was a montagnard republican; at least he had that effect on me by the way he looked at things at the time when I was in Nice. His subsequent victories turned his head and made him aspire to dominate his fellow citizens; but when he was only a general of artillery in the army of Italy, he was a partisan of broad liberty and true equality. One thing that has not been reported, as far as I know, by any historian of the revolution, is that after 9 Thermidor Bonaparte proposed to the representatives of the people who were on mission in the army of Italy, and who had succeeded my younger brother and Ricord, to march on Paris to punish the authors of the counter-revolutionary movement which had killed my two brothers. This bold proposal, revealing courage, an extraordinary spirit and patriotism, terrified the representatives, who hastened to repel him.

I had known Madame Bonaparte when she was the wife of General Beauharnais; she had even then shown me a great deal of affection; and after the 9th Thermidor I had continued to see her. For some time she still received me with the same regard, but soon I noticed a change in the reception she gave me. The coldness and indifference which I had noticed in her redoubled to the point that I thought it my dignity to cease visits which seemed to me to be burdensome to her. Several times her door had been refused to me; one day, when I met her, I expressed my astonishment to her on this subject; she made a thousand apologies to me, and accompanied them with so many demonstrations of friendship, that I ingenuously believed that if I had not been able to penetrate as far as her, it was because of a misunderstanding. "When you want to honor me with your visit," she said to me, "name yourself, and immediately my door will be opened to you." I remembered this recommendation when, a few days later, I called on Madame Bonaparte; the concierge having told me that she was not there, I named myself, telling him that Madame Bonaparte herself had recommended me to state my name, and that I would immediately be received. "Eh, mademoiselle," replied the concierge in a tone that was half mocking and half curt, "Madame says the same thing to everyone, and she's home to no one." It was all the insolence of a grande dame of the court of Louis XV.

Bonaparte's admiration for my elder brother, his friendship for my younger brother, and perhaps also the interest which my misfortunes inspired in him, enabled me to obtain a pension under the consulate. When Bonaparte was First Consul I was advised to ask him for an audience. I had no resources; since the death of my brothers I received the hospitality of my respectable and excellent friend, M. Mathon, who had been their friend and who was from Arras like us. Bonaparte received me perfectly, spoke to me of my brothers in very flattering terms, and told me that he was ready to do everything for their sister: "Speak, what do you want?" he said to me. I explained my position to him; he promised to take it into consideration; in fact, a few days later I received the patent for a pension of 3,600 francs.

#charlotte robespierre #Napoleon's good deeds

96 notes · View notes

prophecyofwinter · 8 months

Text

Nemophilist

;One who is fond of forests or forest scenery

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Summary: You are the childhood best friend of Aemond Targaryen. As children, the two of you made a promise that you two would Wed, no matter the cost. But would a war, a dance perhaps, cause issue with that promise?

Warnings: 18+, Death, Trauma, Toxic Sibling Dynamics, Cannon typical violence. More tags will be added as we go on

Notes: I’m posting chapters 2 and 3 back to back so don’t forget to read chapter 3 when you’re done with this one!

Last Chapter - Next Chapter

Chapter 2: Dumb Brother, Dumb Chair, Dumb Fist

As the guards opened the doors to allow the young prince passage into the gates of Winterfell you found yourself needing to move your gaze lower, instead of straight silver strands you were met with slightly unkempt brown hair, and no striking violet eyes just ones that were the same color as his hair. This wasn’t Aemond Targaryen? But he still had a dragon?

Your face was covered in confusion unsure what to say without embarrassing yourself. The young man in front of you cleared his throat and straightened his back. “I am Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, Lady Stark. I have come on behalf of my mother Queen Rhaenrya to meet with Lord Stark.”

Oh? Oh. You hadn’t seen any of the Velaryon boys since you were extremely young, you hadn’t even recognized Jace even with the dragon.

“It’s lovely to make your acquaintance again my Lord, as Cregan's sister, allow me to take you to meet him.” You said with a smile and a curtsey trying to not let your disappointment at his sudden appearance show. He nodded and you led the way to the throne room, guards at either side of the two of you as you walked.

You hadn’t even thought about the Prince's words until right this moment, ‘Did he say Queen Rhaenrya? But that couldn’t be, that would have to mean…’

“The expression on your face speaks loudly Lady Stark, yes, my Grandfather, King Viserys, has passed away. That is why I have come to Winterfell.” Jacaerys said in a soft voice as he only wanted it to be heard by you. Shivers ran up your body at the admission, so it was true, Viserys was really dead.

“My deepest condolences my Prince, King Viserys was a great king. I’m sure Queen Rhaenrya will do her service to the realm with grace.” You spoke with wavering confidence, your mind could only race with thoughts of what’s to come. As a woman yourself, you knew many lords would never allow a woman to lead a House let alone sit the Iron Throne if they could give it to a man instead.

The two of you had reached the doors to the throne room far too soon for your liking not wanting to see your brother so soon after your argument still fuming.

The guards that had accompanied the both of you grabbed the handles of the door and opened them for the both of you to enter. Just as you had left him earlier, your dumb brother seated on his dumb chair in the same dumb position head resting on his dumb fist. Making eye contact with you for a brief moment before looking to Jace. You’d noticed his wife Arra seated at the table to the right of the seat,embroidering. You and Arra never talk, you believe she thinks herself better than you. Sees you as only a mare that will fix her lack of children that she’ll never have to bare herself.

Cunt

“Thank you Lady Stark, I appreciate your guidance very much, otherwise I’m sure I would’ve gotten lost.” Jace turns to you with a chuckle, taking your hand and placing a kiss to your knuckles. Pink dusted your cheeks for a few moments, just caught off guard by the motion. “It was my pleasure, my Prince, now if you excuse me.” You turn to make your leave holding your breath needing to get away as soon as humanly possible.

‘Why was Jacaerys here? Why would he need to come here to tell Cregan of Viserys, were Ravens not fast enough? Why did it have to be now? Does everyone know something and not telling me?’ You spiral at your thoughts, face down staring at your hands picking at the skin around your nails, tears stinging at the edge of your eyes not knowing what to do now.

“My Lady?”

You jump suddenly at a hand that touches your shoulder, brought out of your scattered thinking. Oh, it was just a maid is all. “I I’m Sorry, what did you say?” All you could say, embarrassed that someone caught you distracted like this. “I asked if you would like to eat dinner in your chambers tonight, my Lady.” She said with a somewhat worried look on her face.

“Yes, I would um, I would like that.” You’d fully forgotten about eating, today had been a lot as it is, eating was the last thing you thought of. As soon as the maid bowed to you and went on her merry way you bolted down the halls. Slamming the wooden doors behind you pressing your back to the door as you sink down to the floor with a heavy whine wiping tears from your cheeks.

Met with two cold noses pressing into your face you would’ve been knocked over if you weren’t already on the floor, the last of your current joys left. Two Dire Wolves that became attached to you about 2 years ago when you found them as pups, were basically full grown by now. Nothing compared to Targaryen’s and their dragons but you wouldn’t trade them for 100 dragons. You had always felt a special connection to animals of all kinds, much felt different than how you felt around people.

Snow and Smoke were their names because Snow was pure white and Smoke was pitch black. You give both of them soft kisses on the forehead and scratches behind the ear feeling all of your worries and anxieties melt away. Failing to notice a very obvious figure stalking around your chambers.

“And none for me? After I came all this way...”

Aemond.

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader

41 notes · View notes

veil-of-exordia · 10 months

Text

alright we all know about the hamlet+laertes foils thing. But have we considered. Gertrude and Polonius foils

For starters we have Polonius dedicating too much attention towards his kids and Gertrude paying too little attention to Hamlet but also. there is the implication that Gertrude pays not enough attention to Hamlet because she is more dedicated to Claudius. Whereas Polonius is apparently a single parent and this may have caused him to be overprotective. The play thus encompasses both ends of the terrible parent spectrum so to speak

Then we have the moment where Gertrude and Polonius directly enter a conflict. Where Gertrude criticizes Polonius with 'more matter with less art' and Polonius replies 'I use no art' On a literal level this is simply about their different ways of speaking. perhaps their different outtakes on life BUT we have to consider that at this scene they were both competing for the approval of Claudius. If we went with a more sinister interpretation we might speculate that Claudius purposely chose the people around him so that they would be constantly squabbling with each other. So that they would be distracted with petty arguments and won't notice that he is the ultimate cause of all the problems by murdering Hamlet Sr. I think the more important thing though is that Polonius and Gertrude ultimately come to an agreement with each other. It is almost similar to Hamlet and Laertes' sort-of-forgiveness scene during their duel, right? Except that Polonius and Gertrude's agreement is enabling Claudius, while Hamlet and Laertes's agreement (after Polonius and Gertrude both died) ultimately kills Claudius So you could say that this a commentary about the relationship of older generations with younger ones. It's almost like Greek Mythology in a sense, where the younger generation both echoes and displaces the older generation

finally, Polonius and Gertrude's deaths themselves also mirror each other. Polonius died when Hamlet stabbed him through the arras. It could have been either intentional (i.e. Hamlet knew that Polonius was treating Ophelia badly and supporting Claudius) or accidental (i.e. Hamlet mistaking Polonius as Claudius). Gertrude died when she drank the wine poisoned by Claudius. Again, it could have been either intentional (i.e. Claudius intentionally not stopping Gertrude, as she might support Hamlet against Claudius if push came to shove) or accidental. If we go with the both accidental interpretation it adds to the theme of "tragedy occurs when it could have gone another way, but didn't". If we go with the both intentional interpretation, it becomes a bit more interesting. We could say that Hamlet killed Polonius because Polonius harmed Ophelia, while Claudius killed Gertrude because Gertrude would help Hamlet. Ultimately there appears to be no right way to be a parent in the play, because both of the main parental characters die because of their parenting

Anyway I think Gertrude and Polonius deserve to suffer around each other in hell. Yeah

(posted this to the Hamlet discord too)

#shakespeare #hamlet #gertrude #polonius #analysis #hamlet analysis

59 notes · View notes

nyrasbloodyclover · 10 months

Text

the great war (aemond targaryen x oc)

masterlist (read the warnings!!)

a/n: i poured my soul into this. i still haven't finished it. enjoy.

1. the letter

128 AC

Reila Stark had plans for today. She woke up, ready to greet her mother and later find her father, practice some archery and maybe read. Instead all of that, their maester, Kennet, knocked on her door and gave her an envelope.

"Your father wants to see you after you read this." And he left.

The envelope was untouched. It had Tully's seal that had yet to be broken. Reila knew that Elmo Tully and her father, Cregan, were discussing the possibilities of war. Everyone knew Aegon took Rhaenyra's birthright that Reila's family swore to protect. It was a matter of time before she sends ravens to the north. Or dragons. The war was inevitable, she knew that much.

She gently opened it, not knowing what to expect. It was short, but neat. What would Elmo want to say to her? She was calm when she read—

My lord Stark, I will be forward when I speak of our alliance. The war is coming and it would be wise if we join our houses. Your eldest with my eldest. I advise you reply as soon as possible. I fear we must prepare our armies.

She slowly put the letter down. Reila was happy to help her father, but she was curious to why he didn't read the letter first.

"Father?" She said to Cregan Stark when she entered the room. Him and her mother—Arra—were eating breakfast. A rare sight, she must admit, mostly because her father was a busy man. Reila sat beside her mother and took her warm hand. Lady Arra smiled at her and she returned, looking at her mother's pregnant belly. She hoped it was a girl.

"Yes, my dear? I expect you have questions about the letter?" He was speaking like she understood what the message meant. Why didn't he read it first?

Lord Cregan Stark was a strange man. He was a fierce warrior. She knows every story behind her fathers battle scars and she's seen him wield his sword. She wasn't old enough, merely seven, when Cregan overthrew his uncle, but Reila loved hearing stories about that period. But also she's been there when he tucked her into bed and told her stories before she fell asleep. He knew her. To the bone. So she didn't have to say anything.

"If you must know, I didn't read it because It's about your life and your future. It hardly concerns—"

"It hardly concerns you? We have to prepare for a war!" Why was he saying all that? It didn't sound like him. At all. Cregan loved and wanted to know what was happening on his land at all times.

"Cregan, what is she saying?" Her mother looked concerned and confused. They weren't a perfect match, her parents, but they were trying and they loved each other, so that counted for something. Cregan married Arra when he became Lord of Winterfell, after knowing her all his life. They loved each other. She wanted to have that with someone one day.

"Everything is being handled. You musn't worry, sweet wife."

Reila was not so sure about that. Elmo's words sounded almost desperate. But she had no business telling her father how to rule and what to do with his men.

"What did the rest say?" Her mother squeezed her hand. Reila was still in her bed attire and completely out of place, but this couldn't wait.

"I am to be wed, mother." She gave Arra a small but honest smile, to show that she was willing to help their family and take part in her duty.

Lady Arra's features revealed nothing. "To whom, my child?"

"Lord Tully's son, Kermit." She said.

Her father ate in silence. His beard and hair were in place, which was unusual, but the rest of him had written Warden of the North, all over. The dark colors, brooding features, the direwolf on his chest and the fur-edged cloak around his chair. He only looked up once at his wife and let Reila speak.

Her mother was the definition of beauty. Round, pale face, full lips, midnight blue dress that was so dark it was almost black.Reila was a spitting image of her mother. The hair, the face, the softness in her eyes. Her smile could spare Reila of any troubles that she had, but seeing her mothers almost disapproving look made Reila slouch.

"What's the matter, Arra?" Her father asked.

Her mother looked like she was trying to find the best words that wouldn't hurt either of them. And when she finally delivered them, It wasn't what Reila expected.

"You cannot sell our daughter to some noble house for a few thousand men." Her answer was sharp.

"Are you out of your mind? I'm not selling her. This is our greatest chance in surviving a fucking civil war!" He made sure not to raise his voice, but the anger was still there. If the word spread, people would panic and only chaos would come out of it.

"Mother, It's alright. I'm sure he's a good man and will be a fine husband." Reila tried to soothe her mother just a little bit. And in reality— she was fine with it. She knew she couldn't have an epic romance tale. She also knew her father was planning this for a while. He knew what the letter was going to say.

"Very well," her mother said, but still looked like she'd end Tully's bloodline, "Reila, go dress. We must start preparing for the wedding."

She glanced at her father, but he still looked sure of himself. Reila was Cregan Stark's daughter and if he could get through something, so could she.

•

She was brushing her hair when her father walked in. "You still haven't said if you're fine with this marriage," he said.

She did. She said so to her mother, but Cregan knew better.

Reila made peace with her future and nothing would make her uncertain when it comes to helping her family.

"We need Elmo's men," she pinned up her dark hair, "I'll do my part." She said with confidence. Then a spark of something appeared that made her want to bargain with her father.

"In exchange I want to go with you."

Cregan's eyes widened, "What?"

"Instead of being kept in a castle with my soon-to-be husband, I'll get a taste of freedom before my real duties as a wife begin."

"Freedom? Are you hearing yourself right now? You want me to take you to war!"

"It doesn't have to be long. A month, perhaps. Please let me go with you and I'll even marry both of his sons, please!"

He thought for a moment, grazing his dark beard. Reila knew that once she marries she won't be able to see her father daily. This would be like a goodbye to her childhood.

"Not a word to your mother. She's pregnant and her due is any day now." Reila jumped from her seat in excitement and hugged her father.

"Thank you! Thank you!" He let out a rich laugh that made Reila's chest full.

"Very well, daughter. You must go to your mother now. She needs you." Reila knew he was talking about her mother's pregnancy.

"Do you have a name in mind?" She asked, her head still buried in her father's strong chest.

"Rickon." Reila was her father's oldest and only child. She knew he wanted a male heir, but that didn't stop him from loving her unconditionally.

"You are so sure it's going to be a son?" She said, mockingly.

"My biggest concern is their health, but your mother and I talked. She thinks it's a boy."

•

She went to the library and began studying history after failed attempts to learn High Valyrian. She felt foolish just trying to pronounce the words without having someone help her. History was her comfort. It already happened. Years passed since those events and she loved to read about them. It was like reading regular stories, but knowing to recite battles from actual history would get her praises and applauds from her father's friends.

The books were old, older than her, even. She could easily get lost in them and that's precisely what happened.

The sun went down and her father came to check on her once, but she barely acknowledged him while reading about King Maegor's life. Now she understood why he was "The Cruel." She liked princess Rhaena. She liked to think they would be good friends if they somehow ended up in the same room.

The candle that Maester Kennet lit up was coming to an end and she sighed in annoyance. Reila decided to blow it out and go to bed. It was pretty late. Her back started to hurt from sitting in the same position the whole day.

"Lady Reila, you must come right away. Your father said someone came to pay a visit."

Reila frowned. At this ungodly hour? The mysterious visitor peeked her interest and she quickly got up to find out who it was.

Her father was sitting on his throne and looking at a young man dressed in red from head to toe. "Dear daughter, Prince Jacaerys decided to pay us a visit!"

And he didn't care to mention that the unexpected visitor was the Crown Prince himself?

Reila bowed, "My Lord. May I ask, what do we owe the pleasure?"

Jace came up to Reila and the only thought that was running through her mind was Why couldn't my father marry me to someone like him? He had the manners and the dragons. Her soon to be husband only had the army, for all that she knew.

He kissed her hand and her cheeks reddened. She already liked him. "I'm here on behalf of my mother, The Rightful Queen, my lady." And he listens to his mother!

"Well, let's hear it, my lord," said her father. He was unusually friendly. It seemed he too liked Prince Jace. Who wouldn't?!

"Your Father, Rickon Stark, bent the knee and swore loyalty to The Queen several years ago." The people in the room began whispering, but Cregan shushed them right away.

"Yes, I recall. My old man was a good man. Don't worry, boy, the Starks haven't forgotten an oath yet."

"I am glad to hear it, Lord Stark." He smiled and Reila melted at the sight. She wanted to scream at her father to wed them now, but she knew he was already betrothed.

"My prince, House Stark will fight beside Queen Rhaenyra for as long as we can manage. Every man in this castle will die protecting the rightful Queen." Cregan's voice was loud and proud and Reila knew her father wasn't exaggerating. He meant every word.

"You have the Crown's unending gratefulness." The prince's back was straight, voice sure. He was his mother's son.

"Now that we have that settled...We're going for a hunt tomorrow. What do you say, my prince?" Cregan laughed enthusiastically and Reila couldn't help but smile.

"Then I must go to bed right away." And the maids prepared a room for him, but Reila could see he wasn't expecting anything from them. They could've given him a mattress in the middle of a ball room and he wouldn't complain.

#hotd #hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen #daemon targaryen #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond x reader #aemond imagine #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer

56 notes · View notes