Azriel's Bitch

Nicole/22/ another girl obsessed with Az

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories | Fourteen| Azriel X Rhys' Little Sister! Reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Talks of death.

A/N: SO a lot of feelings in this one. I hope you guys like it, I'm really getting excited about where this story is about to go.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen

When you wake up hours later, the sun is high in the sky. The first thing you notice is that you aren’t in Az’s room anymore. But instead you’re in the room that you grew up in. You haven't been in this room since you came back. In fact, you’d been too afraid to come up here. Too afraid of the memories it would bring. 

“Az?” You question, looking around the room to find it empty. 

He was gone. No trace of his shadows, even your own that floated about the room seemed to want nothing to do with you. You screwed it all up this time. You used him, Gods, you should never have taken him to bed. That shouldn’t have been your first time with him. That wasn’t how that was meant to go. 

Tears blur your vision as you bury your head back into your pillow and begin to sob. You can’t help the tears, can’t do anything to try to stop them. You don’t want to. You need to feel the pain, because you can only imagine how Azriel felt. How used he must’ve felt, knowing you were only there for a distraction. 

You loved him, so much. But all you could think of last night was not feeling everything else. Then you were so consumed by the feeling of him, that you forgot to feel about him. You felt dirty, so fucking dirty that you wanted to scrub every inch of your skin raw. But you couldn’t bring  yourself to get out of the bed. So you didn’t.

You stayed in bed for the eternity of the day. You didn’t move, opting to stare at the wall instead, feeling everything and at the same time feeling nothing. 

The following day, when you finally dragged yourself from your rooms, you were confronted by Rhys, who had nothing but worry in his eyes. You nearly broke down into tears again at  the sight. For so many years, you never thought you’d see him again. You never thought you’d have him hold you, and comfort you, even if you didn’t deserve his comfort. 

“Take me back to the townhouse,” You cry into his shoulder, “I can’t stay here.” 

“Okay,” He whispers into your dark hair, followed by the sound of his wings unfurling. 

You hold your breath as he shoots to the sky, being as gentle as possible. Azirel must have told him that you had some sort of reaction from flying. So when you land on the rooftop of the Townhouse, you can’t help but vomit into a nearby plant. You heave and heave until there’s nothing left in your stomach. 

“Are you alright?” Rhys asks as he holds your hair back. 

You can only shake your head, feeling the scars on your back burn again. You fall to the ground, Rhys’ arms still holding you as you begin to cry. You sob again, feeling the weight of the world that you now live in. The world without your mother, and even your father. The world in which you were the reason your mother died, because you didn't fight hard enough to save her. 

“I didn’t fight,” You sob uncontrollably, twisting to bury your head in his shoulder once more. 

He smelled like her, and like your father at the same time. Jasmine, like her, and pure night like him. It made you cry even harder. Made you miss them even more. Made your heart break just a little further. 

“Shh,” He whispers, “You did your best.” 

How he knew what you were talking about, you don’t know. Maybe your mind was wide open for him to read. But you couldn't feel him there. Maybe he just knew you better than you thought, even after all of these years. 

“You were a mere child, Y/N, I’m not sure I could’ve done anything differently at your age,” He admits, “No one blames you for what happened. You were a victim, not a cause.” 

Your head shakes without permission. You hear what he’s saying, but you can’t believe it. You won’t allow yourself to believe it. So instead you cry and cry, without the energy to fight with him it’s all you can do. 

Eventually you make your way to the room that’s now been designated as yours, and hide in the bed once more. It’s all you can do. All you have the energy for. Rhys pokes his head in and checks on you before dinner. The twin wraiths leave a plate at the foot of your bed, but you can’t bring yourself to eat. 

All you want is Azriel, but you don’t deserve him. Not after how you used him. Not after what you took from him. Even carrying the weight of your mother’s death, you’ve never felt as guilty as you do thinking about what you did to Az. 

You aren’t sure how much time passed before Mor is barging into your room and clinging your curtains open, “Enough is enough.” 

“Go away,” You moan, turning away from the windows. 

“You aren’t allowed to sulk here any longer. Rhys might be content to let you wither away, but I will not.”

“Leave me alone, Mor.” 

“I won’t pretend to know what the devil happened between you and Az, because you seemed to be coming back to all of us before whatever it was ... but it’s time to move on.” 

“I’m happy staying here.” 

“Don’t make me get Cassian.” 

Her warning made you gingerly sit up, muscles screaming in protest due to not being used in so long. You were allowing yourself to become even weaker, something you swore you wouldn’t do. 

“Talk to me,” Mor begged, “Let me in…let someone in. Don’t keep locking yourself away, both physically and metaphorically.” 

“I don’t know how anymore,” You admit to her, “I don’t know how to be anymore.” 

“What happened between you and Az?” She asked softly, “I won’t tell anyone.” 

You shake your head, unable to put it into words.Cassian was probably the only other one who knew, unless Az shared with Rhys, so he could understand why you were the way that you were.

“I slept with him,” You whisper, “I used him for sex. And it felt so good. But then when I woke up and realized what I had done...I couldn’t face him.” 

There’s silence for a moment, before Mor wraps you in her strong arms. She smooths your hair down, and strokes you back, like a mother comforting her child. It brings tears to your eyes once more. 

“Az wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t want to,” She confirms, “You did nothing.” 

“Our first time shouldn’t have been because I was looking for a distraction,” You cry out. 

She continues to hold you, trying her best to soothe you as you work through everything in your head. You tell her about how flying made you feel, and how you needed a distraction and the only thing you could think of was Azriel. You told her about how you and Lucien used to use one another in that way, back when you were being held in Spring. How you were the first person he’d been with since his brothers held him down as they killed his love in front of him. 

You told her everything. The words flowing out before you could stop them. What you couldn’t put into words you showed her in her mind, so she could understand. She sat in silence and let you talk until you had no words left, and then she did something you hadn’t expected. 

“It’s time to forgive yourself,” She says carefully, “None of that was your fault. You’ve heard us say it before, but really hear me now, Y/N, you know what my power is. So you know I speak the truth, it was not your fault. You did what you had to do in order to survive, the same thing Rhys did under the mountain. You are blameless.” 

“But I-” 

“Your mother wouldn’t want you to live like this,” She states, “So if you’re going to do anything, live. Live for her, because you and Rhys are all that is left of her.” 

You feel something in your chest as you notice a shadow dancing in the corner of the room. It wasn’t one of yours, you realized with a pang in your chest. He was checking on you…even after what you did. He was making sure you were okay. 

“Have you talked to him?” You question, nodding over to the shadow. 

“He wanted to give you the space you needed to figure things out,” She nods, “Not because he doesn’t want to be around you, but because he thought you didn’t want him near.” 

“I always want him near,” You sniff, wiping away your tears. 

“I’ll be sure to tell him that when I see him,” She smiles brightly at you, “Now, let’s get you dressed. The twins made quite the spread downstairs and Feyre and I cannot eat it all alone.” 

“Where’s Rhys?” 

“With Amren, trying to help decode the book.”

You nod and force yourself to stand, the shadow now curling around your ankle in an attempt to get closer to you. Like it knew you wanted Azriel near, but his shadows were the next best thing. You wanted to ask where he was, but didn’t want to know at the same time. You knew he was working his network of spies hard. 

So you eat with Feyre and Mor, laughing about the random stories Mor seemed to come up with over the course of the meal. And once it was over? You didn’t retreat to your rooms. Instead you found yourself on the terrace soaking up the last few rays of sunlight left of the day. Your head was tilted up towards the sky as your eyes were closed. 

You can feel a presence behind you, but you can also feel shadows lapping at your feet. You hesitantly smile and open your eyes, “Are you going to sit?” 

“I didn’t know if you’d want me to.” 

“I figured your shadows would’ve told you differently by now,” You try to make your tone light and teasing, even as you feel nothing but anxiety bubbling in your chest. 

“They did,” He confirms, “But still.” 

You motion to the seat next to you, scooting over slightly to make room for his wings. Those big beautiful wings that even you didn’t touch that night. Truthfully you weren’t sure if he would’ve let you touch them. 

“Do you regret it?” He asks you suddenly. 

You turn to look at him, golden skin glowing in the late day sun. He looked beautiful. He always did. How could you even think about regretting him? Azriel was like your heart walking outside of your body. The missing piece of your soul. You could never ever regret being anything with him. 

“No,” You say quickly, “No Az. I could never regret you.” 

“I just thought-” 

“I regret how it happened,” You admit, “I regret that I used you as a distraction, but I could never regret you.”

His head is bowed low as he nods. You know him well enough to know that his own need to prove himself, to be wanted, is showing through. You’re both broken, in more ways than one. He spent twelve years in captivity, not being shown an ounce of love. You now know what that's like. You know what it can do to a person. 

So, you get up and slide into his lap, gently tilting his chin up so he’ll look at you, “Azriel, I will never regret anything with you. You’re my heart.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his lips. It makes you smile as you lean down to kiss him. Really kiss him, softly and slowly. His hands hold onto your hips, holding you in place as he kisses you back. You can feel pieces of your heart slowly coming back together, like he’s the glue you needed. 

“I don’t want space,” You whisper against his lips, “Not from you. Never from you.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind, princess.” 

You stayed with him up on the terrace until the sun was long gone and the stars shone in the sky. You kissed him until your lips were swollen and bruised, but you didn’t care. Being in his arms felt better than any drug ever could. Mor was right, it was time to forgive yourself for everything that happened. 

“I’m sorry,” You finally speak, “For making you feel like I regretted you. For making you feel alone.” 

“I’m sorry for leaving you alone,” He sighs, “Can you forgive me?” 

“There’s nothing to forgive,” You shake your head, “Now come, I’m hungry and smell dinner downstairs.” 

He barks out a laugh and stands once you’re off of his lap, leaning down to peck your lips once more. The simple action leaves you feeling warm all over. Leaves you wanting more from him. But you also know now is not the time. So instead you lead him downstairs and into the dining room where the rest of your family is gathered. 

“There they are,” Cassian all but shouts, “We were wondering if you were going to join us!” 

“Leave them be, Cas,” Mor scolds him before turning and winking at you. 

Rhys is nearly beaming, and Feyre is smiling sweetly at you. You take a deep breath and find your place at the table, next to Azriel, like it’s always been. The conversation flows easily as you all eat. You find yourself laughing alongside Cassian, who’s more or less howling at one point. You feel normal again, your chest doesn’t feel empty. 

“We leave in the morning,” Rhys finally says, stopping the laughter. 

“For what?” You ask, feeling very much out of the loop. 

“The Mortal Queens have agreed to meet with us,” He explains, “You’re more than welcome to join us.”

You find yourself shaking your head before you speak, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Are you sure?” Az asked you, “You won’t be an imposition.” 

“No,” You say again, a little stronger this time, “I think the best thing for me to do is to stay here in Velaris.” 

“Okay,” Rhys relented, “We should be back tomorrow night, at the latest. Hopefully the Queens don’t keep us waiting.” 

So you see them off in the morning and then pace around the house whilst you wait for them to return. Amren, being the only one who can possibly translate the book, is busy trying to do just that. So you pace, and pace, and pace. No doubt wearing down the luxurious carpet in the townhouse. But you can’t find it in yourself to care. You know, more than likely, that no harm will come to them. But you still can’t help but worry. 

You finally settle on the couch after an hour or so, and must drift off because you don’t hear them when they come back. You don’t hear the hushed conversation, recounting everything that happened. No, you only stir when Azriel gently brushes your cheek and whispers your name. 

Instantly your eyes fly open and you surge forward to hold him. He lets out a little laugh, holding you back, tucking his face into your dark hair. 

“I was only gone a few hours,” He says softly, arms tightening around you. 

“She was worried,” Rhys fills in for him, “Which she shouldn’t have been, it was just a meeting.” 

You shake your head, and place a kiss on Azriel’s neck before pulling back and giving your brother a crude gesture. He barks out a laugh before motioning for you to follow him outside. You look to Az who just nods, and moves to help you stand from the floor that you’d ended up on. 

“We need to talk,” Rhys said calmly. 

You nod and follow him outside, feeling panic well up in your gut. Something happened, something that would change the course of the war. You could feel it. 

“We have to go to the Court of Nightmares,” He says once you’re in the courtyard, “I told you that I wouldn’t leave you out of this. And as much as I wish she wouldn’t, Feyre is coming, so you have a decision to make. You may come, and play the part, or you can stay here and they’ll know nothing different.” 

“Why are you going?” 

So he explains, putting an emphasis on needing a distraction. And as much as it makes you sick to your stomach to think about going back there, after so many years, and playing the part of the cruel princess that you played all of those years in spring…you knew you needed to go. 

“If you need a distraction, then you really will need me,” You admit to him, “I’m unwed and unmated, from the most powerful line in our history. If Mor was the top of the market, imagine what I’ll be. No male will be paying attention to what anyone else is doing.” 

“I don’t want to put you in that position,” He shakes his head. 

“You aren’t putting me in any position,” You argued, “I’m offering. I won’t sit idly by and let others fight this war for me. If this is what I can do to help, then so be it.” 

“Azriel won’t like it.” 

“I won’t like it either, but I’ll do it. For our family, I’d do anything.”  

Tag List

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@pruvii @megscabinetofcurios @krowiathemythologynerd @its-sam-allgood

[shadowandlightt]

what's wild is I'm almost 96k words into my manuscript and I still have no idea how this F-ing book is going to end. But I need to figure it out soon unless I want this thing to be colossal.

[shadowandlightt]

It's the fact that the book I'm working on (current hyper fixation at the moment) is over 88k words long and I'm still going. It's officially the longest thing I've ever written and I'm so proud of it and I hope you get the chance to read it one day.

[shadowandlightt]

Nothing worse than seeing a brand new doctor because yours left the practice

[askboxmemes]

I wanna know what people assume about me because of my tumblr.

Put an assumption in my ask. I’ll confirm or dispute it. I’m not gonna be mean or anything, I’m just very interested.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

I want everyone to know that this is me every time someone drops a comment on something I've written:

[shadowandlightt]

I love of nightmares and memories so much it’s such a good series please take no offense to this but it drives me nuts that you spell Velaris “Valaris” LOL and Amarantha “Amerantha” just flip the e and the a in both those worse please

Haha I’m extremely dyslexic so even after checking spellings a million time…. I’m sorry!!! But I’m really glad you’re enjoying the story!!!

I’ll try to do better in the future!!

[shadowandlightt]

So fun fact, I'm writing a book at the moment and I can't decide how to get the two main characters back together to end the book with a HEA. They had a very BRUTAL and unhealthy breakup and really hurt each other and themselves in the process. However! they did just agree to try to be friends again after the FMC goes through something quite traumatic. SO any suggestions would be greatly appreciated <3

[manhandlememando]

WHOEVER SAID THAT CREGAN WOULD COME BACK IN THE FINALE: COUNT YOUR GODDAMN DAYS

[wyvernest]

tf you mean "cregan was supposed to appear in the season finale and his scene was cut" give me my husband now

[shadowandlightt]

This is a CRIME

[benjicotblckwood-deactivated202]

TOM TAYLOR CONFIRMED IN THE CAST LIST FOR THE FINALE HE’S COMING HOME TO US

[shadowandlightt]

this could be overly personal, but how do you know if you're infertile or not?

It's an extremely personal topic, but I don't mind talking about it actually.

so I have a birth defect that on its own will make it extremely difficult for me to get pregnant and carry to term. Miscarriage and preterm labor are extremely possible for me. So I'm already very high risk. But I also have PCOS (Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome) which will make conception even harder for me, for hormonal reasons. So I have both a biological reason of being potentially infertile, and a hormonal reason. SO yeah, there's that. I'm only 23, with no relationship (fuck guys right now) so kids are a long way off for me, but still it's something I have to think about.

[entitled-fangirl]

I promise everything.

Cregan Stark x Targaryen!wife!reader

Summary: the two have been married for months. When attending Aegon and Helaena’s wedding, the reader becomes self conscious on why they don’t have children yet.

Warnings: talks of sex

Masterlist

………………………………

Cregan cracked open the door slowly as he walked in, "My love, are you…"

His question died off from his lips as his eyes took in what laid in the room.

His wife, the younger twin of Aegon II, stood tall as her handmaiden finished tying the dress she wore. A noble blue hue to it, a perfect symbol of house Stark at a Targaryen wedding. The color did something to him inside.

She managed eye contact with him through the mirror and frowned, "Am I what?"

He bit his lip for a moment with a furrowed brow before doing a small shrug, "Uh. It's alright. Take your time."

She smiled and let out a soft laugh.

The handmaiden was soon finished and excused herself.

Y/n turned around to finally look fully at Cregan. Her eyes moved up and down his body, "You look rather dashing."

Now far from the north, Cregan had to abandon his fur cloak, leaving him in his dark tunic, blue surcoat and the Wolf sigil embroidered across the chest. Now his broad shoulders were quite displayed, as well as his fit physique that was usually up to imagination. He smiled at her, "And you…"

Her brows pulled together for just a moment, "What?" She turned to the mirror, "Is something amiss?"

He quickly held his hands up to reassure her, "No, my dear. I only meant that… I… I am utterly speechless is all."

She looked back to him with a grin, "Ah. And here I thought you wouldn't like it."

"You believed I wouldn't?" He asked as he rested his hands on her hips. "How could I not enjoy the sight of my wife dressed as a wolf in the midst of dragons?"

She chuckled as her hands moved to his chest, "I am entirely a wolf now, Cregan."

He grinned widely, "That's the best part." He leaned in a trailed kisses down her jaw, "Perhaps I'll get to enjoy you dressed in nothing by the end of the night."

…

Due to the convenience of having the two Targaryen siblings marrying themselves, the entire family fit at the high table, Y/n and Cregan towards the end.

Next to her younger brother Aemond, the two quiet siblings whispered to one another in discussion, including Cregan when he wasn't distracted by the over-the-top atmosphere.

Aemond was a fair brother to her, closer now during this age than her own twin or sister had ever been. "I suppose you're now stuck horse-riding without me around?"

The two had once shared in their lack of dragon. When Aemond claimed Vhagar, he made a vow to not abandon his sister so quickly in her endeavors, letting her ride Vhagar with him when she had needed outside of the keep.

The North had nothing of the sort, and leaving had been hard.

She nodded, "Yes, but Cregan gifted me the most wonderful horse. We ride quite often, weather permitting."

Aemond hummed, "You'll have to take a break from riding soon, I'd wager."

She frowned, "Why ever would I do that?"

"It's not healthy to do while with child."

"Well," she bit back sarcasm, "I am not with child. I have time."

"You've been married for nearly eleven moons. Most are with child by the third."

"I am not most, am I, brother?"

Noticing her bitter tone, he hummed and changed topics. He leaned over to look to Cregan, "My lord, do tell me what horse you've gifted my sister."

Cregan's expression immediately brightened at the topic of something he knew quite well, "A fjord horse. Not a runner by any means but a reliable one when…"

She zoned out from there, staring absent-mindedly at the dance floor.

Perhaps Aemond was right. Should she be with child by now?

Had she done something wrong? What if she was unable to have children? Would Cregan abandon her?

She looked to Aegon and Helaena dancing. Smiling at one another.

What if her own siblings had children before she did? How weak of a Targaryen does that make her?

"Admiring the dancing?" Cregan's voice suddenly murmured near her.

She turned her head to him, seeing his worried expression studying her.

How long had their conversation been over and she'd just been staring off in the distance?

"Is everything alright, my girl?"

She smoothed a hair back behind her ear, "I'm only lost in thought is all."

He grunted in acknowledgement. "A dangerous place to be." He tilted his head, "Wanna talk about it?'

"Not really."

He nodded but made no motion to move. He knew her quite well by now and knew she would soon-

"Why am I not with child?"

He knew she'd state her thoughts, but he didn't consider it to be that one. He frowned, "I don't suppose I have an answer."

She leaned back as the next song started, "Do you think less of me for it?"

His head tilted again like a dog hearing an uncomfortable tone, "Do I… No. No, I do not."

"I just don't understand why then."

"Darling, the gods will grant a child to us when they deem the time fit. Please do not let a thought like this ruin the celebration."

She nodded and sniffled lightly, pushing back the tears in her waterline. "You're right. What a foolish thing to stress over."

He let out a content sigh, happy with her answer. When silence loomed over the two, he watched Aegon and Helaena dance. A thought popped into the Northerner's head, and he leaned towards her again, "Perhaps we can imagine no time has passed at all."

Her face turned contemplative, "How so?"

"Perhaps," he whispered, "Tonight can be just like our wedding night."

"I'm listening."

But Cregan Stark is a man of action. He stood abruptly and held out his hand. "May I have the honor of a dance with my perfect wife?"

She grinned, trying to ignore the stares of her family and the people. She whispered, "You hate to dance."

"Aye, but I love to please you more."

Her cheeks flushed, but she took his hand and let him lead her to the floor as the next song started.

As a high lord, Cregan had been taught all of the dances. But he was no real dancer. He preferred the dance of battle than one in a ballroom. How he managed to get by for one and twenty years with only a single dance with his wife, he's unsure of. He only hoped not to embarrass her this second time.

His steps were heavy compared to her light ones. His moves, though carefully calculated, were clumsy compared to her precise ones done without a second thought. His eyes had to double check every step and move. He was sure she did it with her eyes closed.

Though nervous, a smile was plain and broad across his features.

She could feel his nerves radiate off of him in comforting waves, a reassurance to her that he would face his greatest fears for her. Not dragon fire. A dance floor. And he did so happily.

When the dance finished, he couldn't stop himself and planted a heavy kiss to her lips. He didn't care who saw. This was his wife. She was his, and he was hers.

"Let us retire," she panted against his lips.

His grin continued. "Yes, my lady."

…

Once away from the crowd, their lips moved in tandem, pausing against various pillars and walls to breathe each other in.

"Please put a child in me, Cregan."

He let out a loud groan against her lips at her words. "I will," he whispered.

He tried to move his mouth back to hers and she pulled hers away, making him chase hers. He let out a breathy plea, "I will."

Her fingers came up, her thumb brushing over his bottom lip, "Promise me?"

"I promise. I'll do whatever it takes, my girl. I'll give you a baby, I promise." He leaned in, only to be denied her again. His voice softened, "I promise everything."

She leaned in just a bit, "Take me like you did on our wedding night."

He picked her up, slamming their chamber door behind him.

…

Needless to say, about nine months later, a babe laid in Cregan's arms as he sat next to his exhausted wife.

There never was a Stark who forgot an oath.

………………………………….

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

[shadowandlightt]

This is so soft and ugh. As someone who's struggling with the possibility of being infertile, I needed this.

[gameofthronesdaily]

TOM TAYLOR as CREGAN STARK HOUSE OF THE DRAGON — 2.01 "A Son for a Son"

[shadowandlightt]

My boss forgot to tell me I have the day off?? So I just sat in traffic for almost 45mins only to find out I’m not working? So I picked up my paycheck and looked at the schedule for next week and then left.

[calirph]

𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐊

norhtern attire on the wall with the ancestral sword, Ice. 2.01.

requested by @cregan-starks

[shadowandlightt]

Snow and Flame -2- |Cregan Stark X Velaryon!Reader|

Following the death of Luke, Jace and his sister return to Dragonstone. What she doesn't expect is to hear from Lord Stark so soon after her departure. His missive only serves to cause her to fall further for the young Lord, and Jace tells his twin sister not to miss out on this opportunity for happiness.

Part One

A/N: Thank you so so much for your support on my first part. I have admittedly not read the books, almost bought them tonight but didn't want to spend close to $100 on the box set. SO I'm really just going off of the show. I'm sure there are mistakes in this, as I am only human and highly dyslexic. But I appreciate the love and hope you enjoy this nonetheless.

The following days are torture for you. You wished for nothing more than to return to the North where you felt oddly safe, so far away from the conflict. Your stepfather, Daemon, made a grave error in judgment and sent assassins into the Red Keep to kill Aemond, only they didn’t find him, instead killing Aegon’s son, Jeahaerys. The smallfolk started to call your mother a kinslayer and cruel. Though you know she would never order such a thing. 

“Princess, a raven for you.” 

You hum and hold your hand out for the missive, spotting the Stark sigil. A smile spreads across your lips. You can’t help but look around to see if anyone is paying attention to you before you unfurl the scroll. 

Cregan’s handwriting fills your eyes, talks of how he already misses your presence and how sorry he is about your loss. He writes of the summer snow, slowly starting to thicken as winter draws closer. How despite the cold, you might even enjoy Winterfell in it’s natural season. 

The thought of him thinking of you in his home makes heat stir in your belly. You clutch the letter close to your chest, remembering how jealous you were when he and Jace swore oaths to one another and sealed them in blood. 

You thought it unfair that you were excluded. You could understand it now though, why you weren’t allowed. They swore an oath of brotherhood, and you didn’t think of Cregan as a brother. Not with the way desire built up within you during your stay at Winterfell. 

“What are you doing, sister?” Jace calls from your doorway. 

“Jacaerys,” You stand quickly, shoving the missive behind your back, “I didn’t hear you come in.” 

“Yes, I could tell,” He smirks at you, “What do you have?” 

“No-nothing,” You shake your head, tucking the paper into the sleeve of your dress. 

“Oh, it is something,” He laughs, reaching for your hand, “Come now, since when do we keep secrets?” 

“It’s just a message,” You roll your eyes, “From Lord Stark.” 

“From Cregan?” His eyebrows raise, “Pray tell, why does Cregan write to you and not me?”

“Jealous are we?” You question. 

“Hardly,” He snorts, “So, what does Lord Stark say?”

You take a deep breath and pull the paper from your dress, smoothing it out once more. You recite most of the missive to your brother, leaving out how Cregan writes that he longs for you to return. Longs to see you once more. It makes your heart ache because you long to see him too. 

“You’re falling for him,” Jace points out, noticing how your demeanor shifts. 

“Hardly, brother,” You shake your head, trying to cover it up, “I barely know him. Unlike you who swore oaths in blood upon your first meeting.” 

He lets out a deep laugh, “You were mad that I wouldn’t let you, so you have no room to speak, dear sister.” 

You roll your eyes, opening a box to put your missive in. The box has a lock and you keep the key on a chain around your neck. It’s where you hide all of your important things. You lock it away, a small smile playing on your lips. 

He thinks of you enough to write to you mere days after you left him. The knowledge is enough to ease the pain of losing Luke. Your chest still threatens to cave in, but the pain is more bearable, knowing Lord Stark thinks of you. 

Knowing Cregan thinks of you is enough to ease your aching heart. 

“So if he asked to take you to wife you would say no?” 

“I wouldn’t have a choice, that would be up to mother,” You remind him, “She wouldn’t likely turn down such an alliance.” 

“We already have the North,” He wiggles his eyebrows. 

“Yes, well, you might as well have married him yourself,” You snort.

He shakes his head, gripping the hilt of his sword. He was older than you, just by a few moments. It’d come as a shock to the Maesters to discover that there were two of you. No one was as shocked as your mother though. The kingdom celebrated the birth of both of you, no one quite as much as your Grandsire, King Viserys. He loved you so. So much that he was blind to the truth in front of him, that his wife, Queen Alicent could easily see. 

You spent your entire life trying to convince yourself that the rumors simply weren’t true. And that you were a trueborn Velaryron, but in your heart you knew. Just as Jace and Luke knew. 

“Are you going to write him back?” Jace questions. 

“Should I not?” 

“Cregan is a good man,” Is his only response. 

You nod, knowing he’s more than right, “I wouldn’t object,” You clarify, “If he wanted to take me to wife.” 

“You’ve never been one for the fighting,” Jace observes, “You’re much like Helena in that way., I suppose.” 

You nod, biting your lower lip, “I hate that we’re at war. I wish it to stop.” 

“You wish for mother to give up her claim?” He questions, misunderstanding you. 

“No, never that. Too many have already died,” Your eyes begin to water, “But…if only there was a way for her to reclaim the throne without all of the bloodshed. At this rate the path will be paved in blood.” 

“It already is,” Jace sighs, “But I understand how you feel. I don’t agree with it, but I understand it.” 

“I wouldn’t want to leave you,” You start, “But I would welcome the opportunity to leave all of this bloodshed behind.” 

“It’s only going to get worse,” He reminds you. 

“My point exactly.” 

He nods and then turns suddenly remembering why he was here, “A council meeting has been called. I was sent to get you.” 

“And you’re only now saying something?” You gasp, moving to your feet. 

He shrugs and usures you out of the door of your rooms. Everyone is already assembled around the painted table by the time you arrive. Your mother, however, is absent. You look around the chambers. The meeting starts without her, word spread that Ser Criston Cole’s forces have doubled, at the very least. 

You listen, saying quiet as they all say a dragon needs to go to war. There is no way around it. Cole will take Rook’s Rest without a second thought. Jace is in the middle of saying a dragon must be sent when your mother, the queen, finally joins the council. 

Jace instantly demands to know where she’s been and a volley ensues. You stay quiet, as you always do, letting your twin do the talking. But even you, in your grief, took note of your mother’s absence. It worried you to no end, not knowing where she had gone or why. But upon hearing she went to King’s Landing, you swore your heart stopped. 

But when she says she’ll be the one to fly to war, you stop breathing. And when Jace urges her to send him, you swear you might faint. The thought of either of them being in danger is enough to send you over the edge. You cannot stand it. Never have been able to stomach the thought. Jace was right, you’re much like your aunt Helena in that regard. 

You’re about to say something, anything to help the fight, when Rheanys speaks up, saying they must send her. Meyles is the largest dragon that you have, and as Rheanys says, no stranger to battle. 

The meeting seems to end then, having been decided who was going to war on your mother’s behalf, you withdraw quietly. So quietly you aren’t sure anyone noticed you even left. You consider it your power, to sneak from a room, or move about the castle unnoticed by most. You’ve always been the quieter one, compared to the temper that fuels Jace. He’s always run hotter than you, ready to act at a moment’s notice. Ready to fly off the handle and do something rash. You’re more cool and calculated, you suspect you’re more like your father in that way. Either one of them. 

You settle at the small table in your rooms and begin writing back to Lord Stark. You find yourself wishing more and more you could return to the North and be far away from this conflict. So you tell him just that. You tell him that you yearn for him as well, and that you were glad to hear from him so soon. You pour your heart into the letter, not sparing anything. You tell him that the war is really and truly beginning, and that there is no avoiding it now. You tell him that you’re scared of it. 

You’re honest with him, in a way that you didn’t expect. And that night, you fall asleep holding his letter. Wanting to feel close to the Northern man. 

News breaks the following morning that Rheanys and Meleys were lost at Rook’s Rest, and that Aegon, the pretender, was severely injured and is on death’s door. Aemond is named regent in his stead, which is more dangerous than having Alicent herself on the throne. Because Aemond knows no end. He will do anything to secure his place. Including as reports say, sacrifice his own brother. 

You feel it in the pit of your stomach, the dread. It fills you as you walk the halls of Dragonstone. The mood has shifted. If the war wasn’t real with the death of Luke, it’s real now. And you find yourself wishing you could just vanish from Westeros all together and avoid all of this. You do not have it in yourself to go to war. Do not have it in you to fight on dragonback as will be expected of you. 

“Where have you been?” Jace questions, brows knitted together. 

“In hiding,” You sigh, closing your book. 

“Obviously,” He rolls his eyes, “I’ve been trying to find you for hours.” 

“Well, you succeeded.” 

“Are you alright?” He asks you. 

“Must I be?” You question. 

“I know how hard this is for you,” He replies, “But we need you, sister. We cannot win this war without you.” 

“You need my dragon,” You clarify, “You can do this without me, but not without her.” 

“No, I need you,” He reassures you, “I cannot fight this without you. I need you by my side, I always have and I always will.” 

“You cannot put this on my shoulders Jace,” You shake your head, “I cannot bear it. The thought of anything happening to you, or to Mother, or our brothers…I cannot.” 

“Nothing will happen to me,” He promises, “I’m quick, and I’m lucky.” 

“And inexperienced, as mother pointed out,” You remind him, “Anyone can be killed. We are not gods, as the smallfolk believe.” 

He sighs and joins you on your seat. There is nothing he can do to put your worries to rest, because he knows there’s a chance he will be killed. There is a chance anytime he gets on his dragon and flies off. He wishes there was something he could do to ease your anxiety. Perhaps he would pay a visit to the Maesters for a draft to help you sleep better. He knows you won’t ask for it yourself. 

“Did you write to Cregan?” He finally asks, seeking to change the subject. 

He notes the way you almost smile, the way your eyes light up a little and your shoulders relax, “I did.” 

“Good,” He smiles, squeezing your shoulder, “I am glad.” 

“As am I,” You admit. 

“Perhaps he’ll petition for your hand,” He shrugs, “Then you’ll be able to get away from all of this afterall.” 

“I’d never wish to leave you, Jacaerys,” You tell him honestly, “You’re half of my soul.”

“And you’re half of mine,” He assures you, “But I would never wish for your unhappiness.” 

You nod, knowing he wouldn’t. Jace might be hot headed, and quick to fly off, but he isn’t selfish. Never selfish. Not when it comes to you at least. He would always put you first, it was his job to protect you and keep you happy. Always had been, ever since you were little. 

He could survive without you, you were sure. But you needed to find out if you could survive without him. You knew, deep within your heart, that there would come a day when you would have to learn to live without him. You couldn’t imagine Jace as an old man, sitting upon the iron throne. You hated that you couldn’t, but it was the truth. 

“I would never wish for your unhappiness either,” You tell him, biting back tears. 

“Should he ask for your hand, don’t turn him down,” Jace urges you, “Be happy with him in the North. Be safe.”

“You’re telling me to leave?” You question. 

He only shrugs and gives you a soft smile, “I’m telling you to be happy, however you need to achieve it.”