DREAMS OF WINTER

[cregcn]

private , independent cregan stark from grrm's fire & blood / hotd.

written by macy - she/her. cdt. also here: multi.

CARRD. (under construction)

heavily affiliated with: @winterreigned , @imaginarianisms

[worthyheir-deactivated20260318]

"Something I wish to know of you?" A vague thought, when the couple of weeks spent in the North alone are enough to entreat him to know everything about the man before him. There is the part of the day that is spent on negotiation, on trying to find a balance between the North's need to prepare for Winter and the crown's need for an army (particularly his mother's crown, rather than the usurper's). He knows that more than one raven has arrived, from Aegon's faction, to entreat the Starks to bend the knee to the usurper.

"I feel that here is not enough time to gather those truths, My Lord." Indeed, he ought to have left at least a day or two prior. They have concluded their negotiations, and he needs to return to Dragonstone, with the news so Cregan can prepare for winter. There is no pretense for remaining here, other than the recently stricken friendship with the man before him, which was something so different from what he had at home, where it was really just his brothers. It was something Luke often teased him about, how he didn't exactly go out of his way to find companions, which he usually replied with something flippant about how his brothers were annoying enough, he didn't want to bother with others. It was always in an endearing tone.

He should return home. He misses his brothers, and war is on the horizon. Even so, he finds it difficult to make that decision now. "In fact, I think it is safe to say my time here might be closing soon enough. I should have returned home already."

[cregcn]

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑴𝑻𝑯 𝑪𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑼𝑷 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑴 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑹𝑬𝑬𝑫𝑺 , a summer he can't touch. a summer he can smell. brightness of it burning on the back of his eyelids. face gone all warm and it's something prophetic and it's something slipping from his fingers.

words spoken from jacaery's lips with such prominence and duty it puts him to shame. this weakness is his alone to carry. his alone to bear. that his own chest should sow such white=hot seeds is a mystery beyond his own comprehension. some celestial passing. some blistering burn that would heal in time. eyes fall from his prince's face. to the stone walls and losing focus.

❝ off you go , then. your business is concluded ❞ a forced calmness to his tone. choking down what could only amount to some few weeks of bonding. beginnings of a war the last place he should find himself to be selfish , and so cregan chokes it down with the stone of some two decades. ❝ tell the queen she'll have my host at her beckon. ❞ looks back at jacaerys , face hardened and slate half wiped with what could have come out. ❝ you've a long way home. ❞

[cregcn]

@worthyheir : ❛ i don’t need your permission. ❜

𝑭𝑰𝑹𝑬 𝑴𝑬𝑬𝑻𝑺 𝑰𝑪𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑨𝑺 𝑳𝑶𝑵𝑮 𝑨𝑺 all the old poets speak true — cregan is destined to lose. winter's destruction means little when summer's warmth is resting upon one's cheek. they have always been two sides of the same coin — so close and so very far away. if he should melt now , it would be by choice.

his hand is firm on jacaerys' upper arm. it's DEFIANCE , at its least. the future of his realm stands before him with some reckless dream in his eyes and yet cregan puts his own body before that. he is not ignorant to the proclivities of his own chest — it is all cregan can do to keep them in check.

❝ no. no , you don't. ❞ eyes are foggy. something distant clouds them. and despite his best efforts , he is but an open book in front of his closest companion. bared for one to see and one only. perhaps he has backed himself into a corner by yielding to such ... ideas. and feelings. and suddenly his desire to keep jacaerys safe stretches far beyond the expectations due of his own station.

❝ you're the HEIR to the iron throne and i am but the lord of winterfell. ❞ a good half of his words seep with earnest TRUTH and the other something less hinged. he is losing HIMSELF , slowly. if for nothing else but the sake of summer's most careful breeze. ❝ i've known nothing but DUTY and grief since i was thirteen. i have sent men to die. i've broken apart families. i've lost most of those closest to me. ❞ hand falls from the other's arm. freeing him. eyes are searching for something far away. something that does not exist here. search everywhere except into his prince's eyes. not now.

❝ but as — , ❞ a pause. wills his own eyes to meet jacaery's. wills his chest to face whatever it is that it created. ❝ whatever i am to you — if anything we've shared means anything at all to you ... ❞

eyebrows raise slightly. armor is stripped and he is vulnerable as if it were some new sort of offense. ❝ you'll stay. ❞

[nightprompts]

&. 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

(  we  love  angst  on  this  blog,  what  can  we  say.  here’s  some  more  dialogue  prompts  for  you.  a  warning  for  potentially  triggering  themes  below.  )

❛ everything you touch, you ruin. ❜

❛ the only one who gets to kill you, is me. ❜

❛ you can’t make me disappear. ❜

❛ memories are only there to make you bleed. ❜

❛ i don’t need your permission. ❜

❛ don’t shut me out like this. ❜

❛ the less you know, the better. ❜

❛ i won’t stop killing until you kill me. ❜

❛ why is it whenever we see each other, you’re covered in blood? ❜

❛ you think i felt something for you? you’ve forgotten what i am. ❜

❛ the last time we talked, didn’t you say you wanted to kill me? ❜

❛ i felt something loosen in me that shouldn’t have been loosened. ❜

❛ pull yourself together. we have work to do. ❜

❛ stay back, i have a demon inside of me. ❜

❛ let me get closer, i have a hell inside of me where your demon can live. ❜

❛ people like that don’t deserve to live. ❜

❛ just do what you’re told. like you always do. ❜

❛ why do you have to make everyone hate you? ❜

❛ it’s better that you don’t get involved. ❜

❛ i’d do anything to make you stay. ❜

❛ who cares if it bleeds. ❜

❛ is this what you think love is? ❜

❛ just breathe through it. it gets easier. ❜

❛ don’t pretend that you cared about me. ❜

❛ i’m starting to think you like wasting my time. ❜

❛ we wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for me. ❜

❛ i will never, ever, give you a moment’s peace. ❜

❛ the world doesn’t hate us. but it doesn’t love us either. ❜

❛ it hurts that you still can’t trust me after all this time. ❜

❛ a darkness with voices is better than a silent void. ❜

❛ it’s safer to be feared, than loved. ❜

❛ am i not good enough for you? ❜

❛ a burnt child loves the fire. ❜

❛ i’m tired of dying. ❜

❛ what if you hurt because it feels good? ❜

❛ don’t try to fix me, i’m not broken. ❜

❛ if you want me to die, you can just say so. ❜

❛ you don’t have to be afraid of who you are. ❜

❛ that line disappears once you cross it. ❜

❛ how can i believe you after all you’ve done? ❜

❛ i won’t let you forget about me. ❜

❛ the person you once knew me as, died. ❜

❛ are you going to leave me again? ❜

❛ i have nothing i could offer you. ❜

❛ no one is going to save you. no one can. ❜

❛ maybe you’re / i’m already dead. ❜ 

❛ you have blood on your hands. ❜

❛ what, can’t take a punch? ❜

❛ i’m your mind giving you someone to talk to. ❜

❛ you have to step out of this darkness and let them see you for who you are, like i have. ❜

[cregcn]

@maidmyth : happiest of namedays, cregan!!! a new cloak has been made for you, with a wolf embroidered upon its front. she hopes it keeps you warm & safe. :’)

𝑭𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑹𝑼𝑵 𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑫 𝑾𝑶𝑳𝑭. cregan grins as he admires the detail. the essence of him is very much seen and felt. she is far too kind , perhaps even for her own good , but cregan admires that kindness all the same.

he has always felt a sort of awkwardness in receiving gifts. unsure of how to accept such thoughtfulness. as if he is always questioning any kindness toward him and when he finally finds it to be true and selfless , he is lacking in experience. ❝ thank you , remilia. ❞ eyes rise up to meet hers. he gives her a slight nod. ❝ this cloak and the thought of its gifter would keep me warm on even the coldest nights. ❞

[cregcn]

@imaginarianisms : Helaena jumps into his arms and peppers him with sweet kisses, giggling all the while. Happy birthday, Cregan, she's your gift!!

𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 seeps into his skin where she touches him. from her lips to his — an unending stream. he is so full of love.

strong arms wrap around her torso. cregan cannot help the smile that spreads across his lips. he would surely find himself sore from grinning so hard. ❝ thank you , my dragon. ❞ a kiss is placed on each of her cheeks and then on her lips — his lingering on hers. ❝ if the years are kind to us , i would see a hundred more name days with you at my side. ❞ one hand slides around her body and rises to sweep her hair over her shoulder. then his hand rests at side of her face , thumb running gently back and forth over her cheek bone. smile turns into something more resembling a smirk. eyes are alight with some mix of desire and fondness. ❝ and i'll have you know that i have no intentions of leaving bed today. ❞

[cregcn]

everybody say happy nameday cregan

[imaginarianisms]

@cregcn asked for a lyrical starter; the rumbling - sim.

❝𝐈𝐟 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲.❞

[cregcn]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑳𝑳 𝑮𝑹𝑬𝑬𝑻𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑴 𝑩𝑶𝑻𝑯 with a kind of fondness that is far too old for cregan to fully comprehend. whatever capacity cregan feels of it , he feels strongly. and the more he lets in , the less the wind carrying it stings. feels less like a scrape and something more of a kiss.

❝ haven't i told you to stop bein' so grim? ❞ he asks , a gentle smile on his lips in an effort to make his words seem less like a scolding. ❝ won't do you any good , even in the face of all the world's horrors. ❞ he wouldn't necessarily consider himself the most positive person these days. mostly too jaded to feel such a way. even so , cregan does find some feelings useless and detrimental , however easy they are to slip into.

cregan bumps his shoulder into hers. sighs. feels as though he's being too much of a dad. he relaxes his shoulders , willing the brother out of himself. ❝ is it the coming war that brings you such thoughts or is something else on your mind? ❞

[worthyheir-deactivated20260318]

The knowledge that he has already stayed away too long, that he must return to Dragonstone now that they have finally, finally, come to official terms, is not lost on him. Not that this entire month has been about that. They have hunted together, created a comraderie that will last, he is sure, well beyond his time here. He has received the news that his brother is murdered, which is, perhaps, why he finds himself leaning into his friend, for support, for something more, he is not sure, but he must leave on the morrow. Whether he is simply lost in his grief or there is another reason, is muddled, and that, along with the words his friend speaks, cause him to pull back, leaning over the balcony, resting his arms upon it. "I have to leave shortly after dawn." Though the sun is already almost visible, the sky lightens with each passing moment, he laments in that. He must return home. That selfish wish, to remain, is shared, but he has a duty. They both do. He looks back over his shoulder - after all, he is the one who has stepped away, despite being the one to seek the comfort in the moment - and can hardly offer the slightest quirk of his lips, hardly considered a smile. Jace is fairly certain his smiles have been killed alongside his brother. "If only we could. I do not think life is forunate enough for anyone, not in a time of war, at least." The sigh that escapes is heavy, his chest heavy with grief and unasked questions. If he could have reverse what he has just done, pulling away, reminding his companion of their near departure, he might, but it would not change the facts. He needed to leave, return to war, a war where he was likely to die. And Cregan could send greybeards South, but this dance of dragons would likely touch the North no further than this meeting. He turns his body to face Cregan Stark, who he has gotten to know in this past month, who has become someone so incredibly important to him, in ways he still cannot define, that their separation aches in a way he never expected. This undefined dynamic might continue to haunt him after he departs, but he cannot lament it. "I should be preparing to depart even now." Yet he is not, in this tower, isolated, alone with just the lord of Winterfell that he had come to treat with.

[cregcn]

𝑯𝑬 𝑭𝑬𝑬𝑳𝑺 𝑨𝑵 𝑨𝑪𝑯𝑬 𝑭𝑨𝑹 𝑻𝑶𝑶 𝑫𝑬𝑬𝑷 in his own chest when jacaerys pulls away from him. so soon and after all it took to will himself to close that last bit of distance. stinging , and for a brief moment all he can do is stare into the empty space beside him.

cregan isn't so lost in his own passion that he cannot see the truth for what it is. every word jacaerys' speaks to him is true and sensible. wrought with GRIEF. aching with DUTY. the two of them are ever bound to it. ball and chain. born into their blood. the two of them have never truly owned the sort of freedom they flex in these late hours together. it always would be taken from them , one way or another. and perhaps a clean break is better. from what , cregan wonders. they had only just began.

cregan won't march his men south yet. or even in any near future unless the tides of the war change. it should be some long while before they may see each other again. a different time and a different place. it's foolish , but cregan hopes the coming war does not change jacaerys too much. hopes that on the other side of things , he will still be here. body and spirit. perhaps he should hope the very same for himself — though he has always known that he would bend and shatter under the weight upon his shoulders. their fates are INEVITABLE.

❝ wait. ❞

cregan reaches out to grab jacaerys by the arm in an attempt to keep him here , but stops before contact. he doesn't want to impose upon the distance his prince has placed between them. stops , also , because his body has acted before his mind and he doesn't know where to go from here. there's a knot in his throat. he swallows , saliva thick down his throat. does little to aid him. eyes fall to jacaery's lips briefly — a sorry time to be thinking of such a thing , cregan thinks. he takes a step toward jacaerys.

❝ do not leave just yet. ❞ voice is barely above a whisper. ❝ i've no expectations of you here , my prince. ❞ eyes soften. ❝ i won't touch you , i , ❞ he starts. sighs. feels silly and desperate. so unlike himself. cregan rubs his temple. closes his eyes briefly. when he opens them , he abandons the sentence he started. trades it for something else. ❝ am a selfish man , it would seem. ❞

[cregcn]

@imaginarianisms : Helaena lie on the snowy fields of the godswood looking up at the stars, moonglow hair splayed all about her like a halo, violet eyes glint with wonder like a dying woman seeing the sky for the last time.

𝑻𝑶 𝑩𝑬 𝑾𝑹𝑨𝑷𝑷𝑬𝑫 𝑰𝑵𝑺𝑰𝑫𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑯𝑬𝑹 would be to know true peace. he would meet his end , and gladly , in her silver hair.

at one point or another , cregan would have thought her warmth would have melted all the snow in his kingdom. might have brought forth some eternal spring. out of white and into green. not inherently some bad thing , but foreign all the same. and in spite of that , she exists so wholly under the ice and the freeze — the snow cradling her body and unafraid to perish. her fire cannot harm the unwilling , he supposes. or perhaps the earth reveres her as much as he does. not likely — she is nothing short of everything he has ever dreamt of. and so he supposes the earth must love her in its own great capacity then.

eyes are unmoving from hers. trying to read them. trying and failing. she is looking at the sky and he is looking at her. desperate to find her and to stay fixed on her. knowing that they could both live to a great and old age , his eyes never leaving hers , and the time would not be enough. cregan's longing transcends time. and harboring such a fanciful notion does not sit poorly within him , not now that she has shown him too much wonder to think anything less of magic.

cregan rolls over to his side. arm rounding over his body ; hand resting upon her cheek. gentle and careful not to break her line of sight. ❝ what thoughts dwell behind your eyes , my love? ❞

[cregcn]

@tsfeli : ❝ i see a dozen men here ready to leap on each other’s throats. ❞

𝑺𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑲𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑻𝑹𝑼𝑻𝑯 𝑨𝑺 𝑰𝑻 𝑰𝑺 𝑳𝑨𝑰𝑫 𝑶𝑼𝑻 𝑩𝑬𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝑯𝑰𝑴. survival is a song written in stone. as old as the land they reside on and half as sturdy. the ages have hardened them all.

❝ i raise a host of men ready to fight for their own people. for the land they come from. ❞ cregan starts , a bit stiff in light of the truth being stripped down before him. ❝ and yet not a man among them would blame the other for valuing their own life with a blade to their throat. ❞ it's a vague statement , and branching with questions. he couldn't answer them all , not in a thousand lifetimes. he does not forget a single sacrifice made in the name of his homeland.

❝ a living man has everything to lose. and a dying man has only his life. are we so different? ❞

[imaginarianisms]

Her shoulders droop as if bearing the weight of the entire world on her shoulders. Listening to his words quietly, her head dips, lower lip trembling and for a moment, she doesn't look up at him. At Cregan's mention of a little boy of Jaehaerys' age, Helaena tilted her head up to look at him, soft heart melting and breaking all at once, like snow melting when exposed to the sun, pupils dilating. In truth, Helaena doesn't know why she lingers here in the evenings with Aegon's Hand of the Uncrowned King, only that she feels a sense of safety that she hasn't felt in so long with him nearby. Her dainty fingers stroke against the back of her hand to self soothe, but to no avail. Her body hurt from how much she sobbed and cried and the way she couldn't breathe and the way she had to clutch her sides and stomach from where Jaehaerys, Maelor and Alysanne came from and the emptiness in her chest. All Helaena knew was her sadness, her grief, her heartache now, with all those memories painted blue. Helaena felt like a corpse, a dead woman walking the earth weeping for so very long. ❝𝐈𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤. 𝐈 𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐧𝐨𝐰.❞ Helaena's voice is strained, tired, and weak. ❝𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬. 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐮𝐭𝐲. 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧. 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧… 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞, 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞.. 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬, 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐀𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞… 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐫… 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐲.❞

Her eyes welled with tears, her eyes fluttering shut, but she refused to let them fall. Aegon never liked it when she cried, and while her tears were old friends to her now, she did not want to burden the man sitting before her even further, so she wiped them away with her hand, nervously brushing her fingers through her silver-gold hair. Forgive me, Helaena thought, shaking her head, but Lord Stark seemed to be a patient man. Just then, she realized that Cregan seemed to be softening before her like dew, a rose petal on rosewater a far cry from the man who, just hours ago, barked commands at his men and walked around the Red Keep as if he owned the castle. Helaena instinctively reached out across the table to briefly place her hand over his. ❝𝐈 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝𝐲, 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤.❞ The cool air in the room made her realize that her hands were cold; his were larger. Perhaps she's made a mistake, but it was always ever in her nature to comfort others. Helaena had heard word of the little lord waiting for his father back at Winterfell. Deep breath draws into aching lungs. Her eyes soften, a gentle smile gracing her lips. ❝𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 ñuho rūho 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐚 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.❞

[cregcn]

𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲 𝑰𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑵𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 that she paints before his own eyes. the images bore straight through his mind : child and mother. her skin , even as a flower's petals except for where the spikes would pierce it. there it's all mangled and the wrong sort of red. and the light has left her eyes and is looking so far beyond. and this life would have failed her. did fail her son. in which dark gardens do such horrors grow?

and yet time persists under the lashes of her eyes. and goodness , too , resides there. and cregan does not remember when last he saw the likes of it. his mother , maybe. gentle and good. mind draws to the egret he saw at dawn : a bird of the south and basking in the morning. calm and innocent and a thing of this earth. he feels , too , as though he belongs here when he looks into her eyes. mortal. something ephemeral. and yet like the good inside of his own soul might be seen as a STRENGTH.

her skin sends shoots through his own bones. electric and a touch wild. a dragon settling down in the soft and cold snow : she steps farther than is expected. " i pass judgement for the good of the realm , " cregan starts , the burden of his position weighing him down to his knees. " and yet the executioner's block would have been a kindness , were i in your place. " another stretch of his empathy before her — as if to prove something. as if to make up for the wrongs of his own side despite backing it so wholly. " i'm sure he would be honored to meet her. " cregan finds , to this day , titles to be tricky and sore. POISE of the queen and yet not such in his own beliefs. he could bow to her , all the same. his hand flips sides with hers , willing it to stay where he fears she might retreat. like rain in a drought : it's a silly simile and yet he finds refuge in her touch all the same. " ought to let her see a northern snow while she's still young. " a lightness fills his eyes. he is far from here. " it's a wonder what the young make of a blanket of cold and ice. "

[worthyheir-deactivated20260318]

Jacaerys is fairly surprised by the visit - he had not expected it, but he had anticipated it. Regardless of the hospitality, Winterfell was still Cregan's home, and Jacaerys was merely a visitor, royal or no. His chambers here were only visited in the early hours of the morning, by himself, after spending hours with the Warden of the North in his chambers. The pair discussed a great many things: their families, their lineage, history of their houses, their youths, each other. It would only be when the dawn might start to break through that he would depart, for only an hour or two of rest, leaving Cregan's chambers for his own. There is some kind of dance happening here, as if ice and fire are trying to find some sort of place to fit together without one destroying the other. EIther the flames will be snuffed out by the cold, the ice that causes them to flicker out and die, or the ice will be gradually melted, turned into water, a puddle created by the heat on the ice. If the dragons of the south might make a deal with the men of the north, who were said to have ice in their veins the way Targaryens carried fire, it would be a pact to save the Kingdoms. There is a smile on his face when the door does open, as he stands by the fire - the North's temperate is still frigid to him, the blood of the Dragon not enough to warm him from the ice of the snow. Perhaps ice will snuff the fire out indeed, one day, though that seems an ominous thought, not a foretold truth. The heat of the hearth warms his body, but he is not warmed to the core until he seems his new friend, companion, ally… words are definitely too little to describe him. When his friend crosses the room so quickly, a purpose in each step, there is little time to react, before there is a calloused hand on his neck, another on his arm, and then there is no time to think of anything else but the lips against his, cold against his own now overwarm skin as he stands so close to the fire. There is the way that this touch warms his blood even more than standing directly into the fire might have, and the immediate shock is quickly replaced by reciprocation, his own body leaning forward, a hand gripping the forearm of his companion. He only pulls back for a minute, eyes looking up at the man who has initiated something he has considered but never would have enacted, before leaning upward again, lips meeting the previously stoic Lord's once more.

[cregcn]

𝑰𝑵 𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑳𝑰𝑭𝑬 𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 𝑯𝑨𝑽𝑬 𝑩𝑬𝑬𝑵 𝑫𝑨𝑴𝑵𝑬𝑫 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑩𝑶𝑳𝑫𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑺 but in this one , he is spared. relief like nothing else he has ever felt floods through his core. and then , like the spark of flint on steel , comes everything born of the longing he has felt.

the way he kisses jacaerys can only be described as wolfish. desire is hot on his lips , enduring — there's nothing civil about it. left arm moves to curl itself around jacaerys' hips , holding his body close where it leans into his own. threatens to never let go. and yet a calling persists somewhere in the back of his mind. back so far the fire hasn't yet conflagrated.

lips pull away from the other's. eyes remain closed for a few moments before opening to face whatever semblance of reality and consequence he can manifest in such a moment. cregan , of all men , knows of tradition and rank and manners. and yet all seem so foreign and far away when the red of jacaerys' lips gleams like the skin of an apple in the warm sun — warmth inherent of the south and there only. and not when cregan feels as though he does when existing in the presence of his king. as though he could be something so far beyond the limits his own body places on him. and even if that something happens to exist only here , and now , and in the eys of jacaerys' only. it is some sort of dawning. a new day he hasn't yet perceived.

❝ if i've offended you , my prince , just say so. ❞ he breathes , hot and heavy. corners of his lips curve into a slight smile knowing that jacaerys does not wholly object. ❝ it is forward of me , i know , but i could not resist you any longer. ❞ the words are sweet on his lips and his insides twist at the brazenness of his own words. so unlike him and yet so true.

[cregcn]

@heireign : ❝  do you think we fight hopeless wars?  ❞

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑲𝑾𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 𝑨𝑵 𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑰𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑺𝑶𝑵𝑮 𝑩𝑬𝑳𝑶𝑾 𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑴. calls him young and lacking in any true depth. tells him to come forth anyway. says that it could show him. the south is certainly an entirely new beast , indeed.

eyes pull from the water and over to rhaenyra when he hears her voice. he stands from where he was leaning against the balcony. bows his head slightly in sight of her. reverence never leaves him. ❝ your host of thousands does not gather for a cause lacking in hope , your grace , ❞ cregan offers. a simple truth and a sufficient answer , however straightforward. he shifts his weight to a different foot. looks back onto the bay.

❝ no , i would not have marched my men south and out of their homelands for anything less. ❞ there it is — something beyond the surface. a truth for her to hold onto , should she wish. an admission of himself and his people. and , should she catch on further , a statement of sacrifice. ❝ there's hope because we believe in what's right. ❞ if the world were to turn in his own two hands , goodness would always prevail. a great many other things , too , but goodness — it's the heart of a peace he has dreamt about for all his life.

[cregcn]

@worthyheir : cont. from here

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑯 𝑯𝑶𝑳𝑫𝑺 𝑨𝑺 𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑭𝑳𝑨𝑴𝑬 𝑨𝑺 𝑫𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬'𝑺 𝑬𝒀𝑬𝑺 𝑨𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬. near barren where such an inferno used to blaze. months ago , not even a northern snowstorm could have threatened to snuff it out. how sorely the time has passed.

cregan hesitates at the doorway. wonders whether or not forcing his own company upon his prince is wise. he quickly decides that he does not care. his chest aches at the sight of jacaerys ghosting through the halls of winterfell day after day. he shuts the door behind him and makes his way over to the hearth. gets down on his knees and begins placing new logs atop the embers. can't help but feeling something symbolic in it - kneeling as he has always sworn he would. standing up once again , he reaches for the stoker. rests one arm on the mantle as he leans over the fire and breathes life back into it with his other arm.

" that it is , your grace. " a gentle smile on his lips. " though not yet time for slumber , should i remember your preference correctly. " mind wanders to the many nights spent speaking until dawn during jacaerys first trip north. they had each ruined the other's sleep schedule. inseparable at times. and almost always near. FIRE AND ICE - so different and yet so drawn to each other. he'd get the worse half of their union. melting. not burning. it almost sounds gentle to cregan.

cregan looks over at jacaerys from where he still leans against the mantle. " you can talk to me. " words come out with a sternness , though not disingenuous. he shifts his weight to another foot. wonders if he's tried too soon or if the question itself would always threaten to turn the mood sour. he quickly adds , " or you could just listen and i could do all the talking. " he turns around , finding a chair and pulling it up to the fire to sit. isn't looking at jacaerys now , only into the hearth. " or we could just sit. that is , if you still enjoy my company as i do yours. " he shrugs.

[cregcn]

@worthyheir : ❝  i hoped that you would come.  ❞

𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑺 𝑯𝑬 𝑯𝑨𝑺 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑮𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑫𝑬𝑬𝑷 𝑬𝑵𝑶𝑼𝑮𝑯 𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑺𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑶𝑫𝑺. except for now , which he walks with purpose — strength enough within to rival the bulk of his own arm. it feels familiar and warm. he is in the right place.

his prince's words sing into his ears as he shuts the heavy , wooden door to jacaerys' chamber. it's the first of such invitations — mostly any late night together they would spend in his own. two chairs by the stoked fire and never moving.

his eyes wander to the fire in front of his prince. roaring and something to sink his existence into. some stopper in the spilling of his own soul. and it takes a large pull from his chest — as though an arm protrudes from it , to guide his mind elsewhere. he could act as though nature pulls at every facet of his being and yet still leave the prince's chambers unsatisfied. tonight , especially , there must exist something more. born of winter and calloused hands and something warm that could fill the cracks in his own being : he takes the RISK.

perhaps his prince had hoped he would come solely to keep him company and perhaps his prince had hoped for something more. days upon days of looks and body language tells cregan that the odds are in his favor — the prince hopes for more. as does he. he strides toward jacaerys. right hand grips his forearm. left hand grazes his princes's neck — tentatively and yet tenderly all the same. he does not feel as though words might convey his desires of the evening. and so he swallows them all and places his lips upon jacaerys'. warm and feeling of sunrise and warming him quicker than the walls of winterfell. this is a life — could be a life. just him , lost within his friend forever. no one or nothing able to determine where one of them begins and the other ends. it's a life.

[edenmemes]

song of achilles rp starters

by madeline miller. i altered some quotes so they fit better  ♡

❝  i saw then how i had changed.  ❞ ❝  name one hero who was happy — you can’t.  ❞ ❝  i feel like i could eat the world raw.  ❞ ❝  you are half my soul, as the poets say.  ❞ ❝  i have no need to forgive you. you cannot offend me.  ❞ ❝  i do not fear ridicule. i never have.  ❞ ❝  you have always trusted so easily; you have had so little in your life to fear or suspect.  ❞ ❝  do you hear me? please, say something.  ❞ ❝  your face is like quicksilver, always racing to something new. you unsettle me.  ❞ ❝  you do not give things up so easily now as you once did.  ❞ ❝  now i know how to make you follow me everywhere.  ❞ ❝  i would know your face in dark or disguise. i would know it even in madness.  ❞ ❝  there is no law that gods must be fair.  ❞ ❝  i have never seen anyone fight the way you do.  ❞ ❝  our dead come for their vengeance regardless of witnesses.  ❞ ❝  the sorrow was so large it threatened to tear through my skin.  ❞ ❝  when you die, all things soft and beautiful and bright would be buried with you.  ❞ ❝  you were always better with words than i.  ❞ ❝  i will never leave you. it will be this, always, for as long as you will let me.  ❞ ❝  you smile, and your face is like the sun.  ❞ ❝  i thought you were — something. you do not — you do not move like a human.  ❞ ❝  do you want to walk up to the woods?  ❞ ❝  you can’t be very wounded if you can stand for so long.  ❞ ❝  there are no bargains between lion and men. i will kill you and eat you raw.  ❞ ❝  we are like gods at the dawning of the world.  ❞ ❝  nothing could eclipse the stain of this dirty, mortal mediocrity.  ❞ ❝  i yearn for the darkness and silence of the underworld, where i can rest.  ❞ ❝  those seconds, half seconds, that the line of our gaze connected, were the only moment in my day that i felt anything at all.  ❞ ❝  you seem utterly unaware of your effect on the people around you.  ❞ ❝  it was almost like fear, in the way it filled me, rising in my chest. it was almost like tears, in how swiftly it came.  ❞ ❝  you are a weapon, a killer. do not forget it.  ❞ ❝  i have heard that men who live by a waterfall cease to hear it — in such a way did i learn to live beside the rushing torrent of my doom.  ❞ ❝  if you have to go, you know i will go with you.  ❞ ❝  there is no one like you.  ❞ ❝  we have given each other wounds, but they are not mortal.  ❞ ❝  and perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone.  ❞ ❝  who can be ashamed to lose to such beauty? it is enough to watch you win.  ❞ ❝  do not let what you have gained this day be so easily lost.  ❞ ❝  you have killed them and taken your vengeance. it is enough.  ❞ ❝  no man is worth more than another, wherever he is from.  ❞ ❝  strange that such a small kindness feels like grace.  ❞ ❝  you can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature.  ❞ ❝  i cannot bear to see you grieving.  ❞ ❝  i remember little more than scattered images from my life then.  ❞ ❝  i would recognize you by touch alone, by smell; i would know you blind, by the way your breaths came and your feet struck the earth. i would know you in death, at the end of the world.  ❞ ❝  i see a dozen men here ready to leap on each other’s throats.  ❞ ❝  in my land a bow is marked as the weapon of cowards.  ❞ ❝  you may still make a good person.  ❞ ❝  you don’t bother to threaten me, yet. i should be worth threatening.  ❞ ❝  the memories well up like springwater, faster than i can hold them back.  ❞ ❝  i hoped that you would come.  ❞ ❝  the voices of the dead were said to have the power to make the living mad.  ❞ ❝  i have weathered the anger of gods before.  ❞ ❝  i thought of how many nights i had lain awake in this room, loving you in silence.  ❞ ❝  there is nothing in the world i want more than to know what you had not said.  ❞ ❝  you will never gain fame from your fighting. does this surprise you?  ❞ ❝  my mind is filled with cataclysm and apocalypse: i wish for earthquakes, eruptions, flood. only that seems large enough to hold all of my rage and grief.  ❞ ❝  i will not cry in front of you.  ❞ ❝  listen to me. you go too far in this. i will not be able to protect you.  ❞ ❝  there is no honor in betraying your friends.  ❞ ❝  i’m afraid I have been prompted by a rare stirring of guilt.  ❞ ❝  i promised myself that if i ever saw you again, i would keep my thoughts behind my eyes.  ❞ ❝  i did not want you to see my fear, though normally we kept nothing from each other.  ❞ ❝  gods and mortals never mix happily in our stories.  ❞ ❝  you will be dead soon enough.  ❞ ❝  you are destroying yourself. you will not be loved for this, you will be hated, and cursed.  ❞ ❝  you left yourself today. and now you are returned.  ❞ ❝  you are a better person than i.  ❞ ❝  whatever you do, i shall stand with you, as i always have.  ❞ ❝  you have looked at me a thousand thousand times, but there is something different in this gaze, an intensity i do not know.  ❞ ❝  my life is my reputation. it is all i have.  ❞ ❝  may i give you some advice? if you are truly his friend, you will help him leave this soft heart behind.  ❞ ❝  what are you thinking about?  ❞ ❝  even the boldest of people would whisper a prayer if they brushed against me.  ❞ ❝  the keen edge of my envy was like flint, a spark away from fire.  ❞ ❝  do you think we fight hopeless wars?  ❞ ❝  it is strange, that you would speak against betrayal.  ❞ ❝  if every soldier killed only those who’d personally offended him, we’d have no wars at all.  ❞ ❝  no one has ever tried to take something from me.  ❞ ❝  stay behind me.  ❞ ❝  will you help me put the rest of my armor on?  ❞ ❝  your face is blank and barren, like another language, impenetrable.  ❞ ❝  i am here because i believe that we will win. i am staying until the end.  ❞ ❝  your presence is like a stone in my shoe, impossible to ignore.  ❞ ❝  he is not worthy of you. he never has been.  ❞ ❝  will you tell me who hurt you?  ❞ ❝  it is like a nightmare; i expect, each moment, to wake to relief. but there is no waking.  ❞ ❝  i do not need to prove myself to you. to any of you.  ❞ ❝  you have always thought too much of yourself.  ❞ ❝  some men gain glory after they die, while others fade.  ❞ ❝  even here, behind the darkness of my eyelids, i cannot name the thing i hope for.  ❞ ❝  our joy is so bright we can see nothing else but the other.  ❞ ❝  you have a tender heart. an admirable quality, surely.  ❞ ❝  you are spring, golden and bright. envious death would drink your blood, and grow young again.  ❞ ❝  i will not be the raven on your shoulder all the time, predicting gloom.  ❞ ❝  you look different in sleep, beautiful but cold as moonlight.  ❞ ❝  when there is greed, there is hope.  ❞ ❝  i could have told you more, of the dreams that leave me bleary and bloodshot, the almost-screams that scrape my throat as i swallow them down.  ❞ ❝  you are angry, and not without reason.  ❞ ❝  you feel mislead; you were promised victory.  ❞ ❝  you know, it’s funny; i keep thinking i’ve seen you before.  ❞