His Second Chance - a cregan stark x reader
summary: with the threat of war looming over the kingdom, your hand is forced in asking cregan a huge request. to do so, cregan must take a calculated risk of deciding what matters more: your life or a chance Winterfell may never get again.
cw: smut, fingering, oral!f receiving, p in v, teasing, some praising, YEARNINGGG, lots of angst to sex and sex to angst and angst to fluff idk wtf happened, lots of arguing, a little bit of ooc behavior but nothing too bad, not very lore accurate dance of dragons but not entirely inaccurate either just basically an au at this point,
word count: really fucking long guys like at least 8k idk what happened i lost the plot bc now there has to be a part 4
part 2: his second child (not necessary to read prior parts but worth it)
taglist: @targaryenprincess1 @nics-fxy
two years after your first born daughter
“I don’t think they like it when I sit in.”
It had been the third meeting this week between the houses in the North; a clear sign tensions were rising throughout the kingdom. You told Cregan you had wanted to sit in, and he was all for it. It was your mother’s claim he was defending, after all.
But, the Northern lords had made it clear you were not welcome. Whether that was because you were a Southerner, or a lady, you had no idea. But, you could tell they weren’t happy. In fact, the reason for their disliking was probably due to both of those things.
“Who cares?” Cregan replies, clearly starving as he slams down his third plate of meat. “You’re the Lady of Winterfell, not to mention Princess of the Seven Kingdoms.”
“Who is it? Do you want me to send them to the Wall?” He asks, trying to make you feel better. You smile softly.
“No, Cregan, I just… I don’t know.” You answer, not fully knowing how to put your feelings into words.
He puts down his fork, noticing how much the situation bothers you, despite your attempts to hide it.
“Alright, look,” he wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve. “on the next council meeting I’ll make it clear any affairs in Winterfell are the affairs of the Princess. If any man even looks at you wrong, I’ll send him to take the black.” He says, resting his hand on yours.
“Thank you, my love.” You say. He looks at you, reassuringly. Despite the situation being resolved, he could tell you were still saddened. He looks at you, softly playing with your food. “I’m tired of rabbit.”
He pauses to think for a moment. “Would you like me to take you hunting tomorrow?”
You perk up, instantly. “Really? You don’t mean it.”
“Of course I do. We’ll go bright and early, so try to sleep through the night instead of waking up to have me-“
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” You cut his risqué sentence off, jumping on his lap to give him a kiss. Your hands rest on his cheeks, kissing him all over his face.
He doesn’t resist, enjoying your sweet kisses. “You can still wake me up, by the way.”
“Oh, would you like that?” You tease, hand sliding down his chest.
“I would love it.” He sighs, leaning his head back.
The winds of winter rush outside, whining against the windows of the dining hall.
“Are the children asleep?” You whisper into his lips.
“Not likely.” He sighs, running his hands along your waist.
“I’d better go take care of that then.” You stand off his lap, walking away from the table.
“Nooooo.” Cregan whines, reaching his arm out for you, although you are far out of his reach. “Come back, my love.”
You tease him, unlacing the back of your dress as you walk.
“Oh, Gods, you’ve got it coming for you, girl.” He moans.
“Have I?” You turn to face him, sinking to your knees. “I’m so frightened.”
The wooden chair scrapes as Cregan stands abruptly to rush you, but you stand back on your feet quickly, giggling as you walk out the door.
“Gods, give me strength.” He mumbles to himself, sitting back down.
You enter the children’s room, shaking your head at the mess that Rickon and Lyanna have torn up.
“You’re both supposed to be abed.”
“There’s a bear, mama.” Rickon says.
“A bear? Impossible, my love. This winter is far too cold for a bear.”
“Now, there is no such thing to be afraid of, my children. You have wolf and dragon blood in you.” You say, checking the closet to bring them comfort. “See? Only your clothes.”
“It’s hiding in the clothes.” Rickon says. You sigh, leaning further into the closet to sift through the clothes, knowing you’ll find nothing.
“Still nothing.” You turn, just as Cregan comes up to scare you with a bark.
“Fuck!” You yell, nearly falling back into the closet, until your lord husband catches you with a firm grasp on the wrist, pulling you into his chest. He and the children laugh, before Rickon gasps and covers his mouth while pointing at you.
“You’re not supposed to say that.” He says.
“Don’t worry, Rickon. Your mother will be dealt with accordingly.” Cregan winks at you. “As for you lot, you’ll be dealing with much worse than a bear if you don’t get to bed.”
“What’s worse than a bear?” Rickon asks. Cregan is silent for a minute.
“A wolf!” He yells, scaring them under the covers as they scream. Cregan smiles at you.
“Good one.” You say, sarcastically.
“What did I do?” He asks, sneaking a pat on your bottom as you walk towards the children.
“I’ll protect you, Lya.” Rickon says, holding her.
“Aw, such a sweet boy.” You say, smoothing his curls out of his face. “We have to always protect and love each other.”
“Why?” Lyanna asks, innocently. Cregan kneels beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.
“That’s just what family does. Especially Starks.” Cregan says, “Although, your mother’s side is a little too good at it.”
“Oh, hush.” You say, smacking his arm while the children giggle at the joke that clearly went over their heads. You stand, “Goodnight, my loves.”
You and Cregan exit, closing the door softly behind you.
“Really?” You ask him, hiding a smile.
“Oh, come on. I’m just teasing.” He says, kissing your cheek.
“You annoy me so.” You say, walking past him. “I can still get this annulled and be with my brother, if I please.”
“That’s repulsive.” He says, but you simply smirk.
You enter your chambers, falling back onto your bed. “Now, what did you say earlier, Stark? That I had something coming to me? That’d I be dealt with accordingly?”
“Aye, and the Gods are just in giving me the power to do so.” He shuts the door behind him, not taking his eyes off you. He removes his warmer layers, agonizingly slow. “This just won’t do, love, you are far too dressed.”
He flips you on your stomach, tearing the remaining laces of your corset in two. You gasp, but he pushes you into the mattress with his hips, making you moan in the soft furs.
“Teasing me in the dining hall,” Cregan pushes your dress off your shoulders, “cursing in front of our children,” he runs his hands down your smooth waist. “You’ve been awful troublesome today, wife.”
“Have I? For that, I do apologize.” You say, your voice thick with lust. He pulls your dress off your hips, kissing your bare shoulders as he places his hands on your waist, grinding his clothed length against your bottom.
“I liked that dress.” You complain, staring at the torn garment.
“I’ll buy you another.” He says, more kisses to your bare skin. “I’ll buy you whatever you want.”
“I have you wrapped around my finger. Don’t I, Stark?”
“Gods, yes.” He moans, resting his forehead onto your back. He sinks to his knees, pulling you toward him so your lower half hangs off the bed, then presses gentle kisses to your bottom, running his fingers on your smooth thighs.
“You make me so weak.” He admits, kissing softly on your cunt.
“That’s no good.” You say, breathlessly.
“No, it isn’t.” He says, licking a stripe up your cunt. You hold back a moan, instead flipping over so you can see him.
You sit up, resting your left leg on his shoulder so he has easier access. He looks up at you, longingly, as his cheek rests into the palm of your right hand. You caress his soft face with your thumb, admiring the Stark below you.
“After all that you ate earlier, you’re still hungry?” You ask. He nods, kissing your palm. “Are you gonna keep me in anticipation?”
He shakes his head, wrapping his arms around your legs and pulling you onto his tongue. You throw your head back, soft whimpers and moans escaping your lips.
“Fuck, Cregan.” You whine, hands gripping his hair. He holds you still, despite the desperate movement of your hips into his face. “You act as though you’re starved.”
“I fucking am.” He breathes, eating you relentlessly. His fingers tease your entrance, leaving you gripping the sheets of your bed in a desperate urge for him. “I love the taste of you.”
Your hand finds his hair, pulling on it as an attempt to get him even closer to you.
“Gods.” You whine. “I’m so close.”
“Stop moving.” He mumbles in you, trying to hold you still.
You moan, fighting to catch your breath, still wiggling in his arms. He wraps his forearm around your lower back, his other arm moves to hold your leg beside his head. He finally gets a grip on you, holding you still enough so he can savor your taste.
“How bad do you want it?” He teases you.
“So bad.” Your moans are short and quick, your body focusing in on the feeling of sweet release.
“I’ve got you, my princess, come on.” He urges. You pull his hair, still fighting his grip as you fuck yourself against his face to finish on his tongue. Your other hand grabs your temple, fighting to choke back your moans from being too loud.
He cleans up every drop, not shy to hide his moans and groans of ecstasy at your taste.
He kisses up your body, moving painfully slow to get to your face. You grab him by his collar, pulling him the rest of the way up to meet your lips.
“You’re teasing.” You moan in his lips.
“Am I? For that, I do apologize.” He mimics you.
“Undress,” You whisper in his lips, “and then come fuck your wife, Lord Stark.”
He wasted no time the second you said those words, immediately ripping off his lower layers as you moved up to the top of the bed.
You turned, ass facing him, crawling seductively towards the pillows.
“Gods, stop.” He moans, hands shaking with adrenaline as he fumbled with the buttons his shirt.
“Or what? Tell me what you’ll do to me.” You say, leaning back on the bed and watching him still struggle.
“Please,” He begs, “You’re killing me, my princess.”
“Will you haunt my cunt?”
Your words send him over the edge.
He grabs you by the ankle, still not done undressing, and pulls you right back to where you just were on the edge. You shriek, giggling, but he finds nothing funny, and you quickly find out the joke was on you.
He rips his shirt off, buttons scattering on the floor.
“That’s the second item of clothing you’ve-“ He leans over you; one hand covers your mouth, and the other positions himself at your entrance before sliding in like water. You gasp into his hand, immediately gripping his strong arms for support.
He thrusts into you, slowly at first to build you up before picking up the pace. You throw your head back, mouth still covered as you moan into his hand.
“All day.” He moans. “All fucking day.”
“All fucking day I’ve had to hear that sweet voice and not get to…” He looks down at himself fucking you, groaning at his lustful thoughts; they were so shameful to want to do to a princess. “Gods, I can’t even say it. All day I’ve had to watch you walk in that fucking dress- Gods, I love that dress- and then- fuck- and then I have to hear you, and watch you tease me while I can’t get this fucking shirt off. Gods, you’ve got me so worked up.” He moans, fucking you relentlessly.
“My princess… If I hear that sweet voice one more time, I think I might start crying.” You look him in the eyes, smirking underneath his hand. You had him right where you wanted him, it was too perfect. He knew it, too.
He pulls out, flipping you on your stomach before pushing back in. His hands grip your waist with a bruising touch, too lost in your cunt to realize how rough he was being. But, you ate it up, loving the side of him that knew how to get the job done. He was a giver, after all.
His forehead rests against the back of your head, trying, fighting, breaking, to hold back tears from how good you felt. He fucked you into the mattress, letting the spring push you back into him, inching as deep as he could without hurting you.
“Please, my- fuck- beautiful wife…” He groans, so close to releasing. “Get on your knees.”
Your fingers gripped the mattress, an ounce of frustration hitting you.
Ever since… ever fucking since you had Lya he just refused.
Every time you were in the bedroom, he would cum. Every time without fail, just never where you wanted.
On your chest, his chest, on your stomach, on your ass, on your back, your throat, your tongue, your hands, your god damned thighs, fuck even on your cunt itself, but never inside you.
And you knew why. You knew even just the thought of what happened last time scared him to death. So, you didn’t push it. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, and for a time you were perfectly content not having another.
But, it’d been so long. He’d only ever finished inside you once. Once, and it gave you Lya. You yearned for the feeling of his warmth inside you, yearned so bad you might have even killed for it.
As he went to pull out, you grabbed him by his wrist, pulling him down so his chest was on your back.
“Don’t.” You begged. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” His thrusts continued.
“Please, Cregan.” You begged, “Give me another child.”
You felt the hesitation, felt even the twitch in his cock at the sentence. Because fuck, did he want to fill you up so bad. He wanted you walking the halls with it leaking out of you, wanted your stomach round and your breasts heavy. The thought alone gave him chills.
“What?” He breathed out, knowing full well he heard you.
“Cum in me.” You moaned, fucking yourself onto him when he stopped moving. “Give me a boy.”
“You’ve gone mad.” He tried playing it off as a jest, but you were so serious.
“I’m not joking.” You say, still fucking yourself on him. His hands grip your waist, finally halting your movements. He pulls out completely, stepping away from you and wiping himself off with his torn shirt.
“Cregan.” You say, sitting up; frustration in your voice, or maybe desperation.
“I’m finished.” He answers.
“What about me?” You ask.
“I have two perfectly good fingers on my right hand. Maybe even three, if you so wish it.”
You fume with anger. He hears Silverwing roar outside; you and that damned dragon were too in sync.
You’re so angry you could cry, and he senses it. “My wife…”
“You are a fucking bastard.” You curse. You can see the shock on his face for a moment, but it quickly fades. He says nothing, sighing as he walks into the closet for night clothes.
He dresses quickly, wanting to be able to come calm you down, and comes out with a sleep gown for you.
“Gods, you’re being serious?!” You yell, noticing he was dressed for bed. He still says nothing, handing you your clothes and sitting beside you on the bed.
It was moments like these his stoic features frustrated you so. He’d let that guard down most of the time around you, but he was able to hide his emotions behind that stone face when needed.
“Listen-“ He begins, but you ignore him, indeed not listening.
“It’s been two fucking years, Cregan. No, three! Three years since you’ve cum in me and I’ve said nothing. I’ve given you your peace, I’ve let you give it to me every other possible way for your sake. But, I can’t-I can’t do this any longer.”
You can’t hide the desperation anymore. You crawl on his lap, still naked, holding his cheeks in your hands as he looks down to avoid your gaze.
“Please, please, I need this.” You beg, kissing his cheeks and his lips softly. You grind on him, wetness leaking from you onto his clothes. His hands rest on the small of your back, savoring the feeling of your restless movement on his length.
He grows hard, you feel it underneath you.
“Yes.” You whisper, your hand reaches down, slipping underneath the waistband to rub him. You pull his length out just as he pushes his bottoms down, urging himself against your slit, his nails digging into your back at the sensation.
You sit down, both of you gasping into each other’s lips.
“Yes.” You moan, “Yes, my lord.”
Gods did you know all the ways to make him fall apart into your hands like glass.
He whimpers into your lips, loving the way you bounce your hips on him.
“So good to me.” You pur. His head falls on your shoulder, unable to contain his moans. “Look at me.”
He listens, staring at you with those glossy, gray eyes.
“You’re so good.” You moan. “Such a good boy.”
“Fuck.” He chokes out, nearly breaking. “Keep saying it.”
“You like when I tell you that?” You whisper, filling his head more with your praises, and he nods, whimpering against your shoulder.
He holds you close to his chest, your breast rubbing against him with each bounce of your ass on his cock.
“Fuck, oh gods… I… Fuck, I can’t.” He folds, feeling himself on the edge of cumming. He lifts you off him, steadying you on your feet before pulling his bottoms back up.
You stand before him, naked, but he looks down again, right hand smoothing over his forehead in anguish.
You were ready to cry again, and he didn’t have to look up to notice.
“I love you.” He says, looking at you now. “I love you so much, it hurts. It aches my damn heart when I think about how much I love you.”
You say nothing, letting him continue.
“But…” His voice breaks. “What I had to watch you go through with Lyanna.” He pauses, trying to keep his composure without breaking down into tears. “All of those bloody late nights… holding you as you cried in pain, sick and chilled constantly… laying next to you all night as you tossed and turned, crying cause you were just so bloody tired… holding you as I watched the fucking life drain from your eyes…”
He exhales, wiping his eyes and speaking in a firm voice, a voice that couldn’t be persuaded with no amount of pleading or begging or cursing or lusting. “I can’t in good conscience put you through that again.”
“Ever?” Your voice barely above a whisper.
He shakes his head, eyes closed and holding a fist to his mouth. “Ever.”
You wanted to fall to your knees. Now, you needed to dress. You pulled the slip on over you, sitting next to him on the bed.
“I want to give you what you want so bad, my wife. You are so beautiful. I want nothing more than to fill you every damned day.” He pauses, trying to drive the lust driven thoughts away. “There is no worse feeling in this world than telling you no, except losing you and never getting the chance to tell you it again.”
“Cregan, I want this.” You say. “I know what I went through, and I’d do it all again, a thousand times over.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t do it.”
“What do you think will happen when this war ends?” You ask. “Be honest with yourself. Be honest with me.”
He looks at you, saying nothing.
“Cregan, when this war ends, and it will end one way or another, who do you see sitting the Iron Throne?”
“Your mother.” He says. “If not her, your brother.”
“Jacaerys fights on the battle field as we speak, Daemon has died killing Aemond, my mother-“
“How could you even think like that?” Cregan stands, looking at you.
“Me?!” You ask. He shakes his head. “Cregan, this war is coming to a close. Winter is here, and if my mother and my brother-“ You’re yelling at this point, but Cregan interrupts.
“I won’t hear more of this, Y/N!” He yells back. “If you get pregnant again in this life, it will not be by me!”
“Oh, yet how could I think like that?” You cry out. “We need heirs!”
“For what?! Do you truly expect to sit the Iron Throne?!”
“Jacaerys will die! I’ve seen it!” You cry out, tears falling.
“What do you mean you’ve seen it?” He asks, lowly.
“Daenys, my ancestor, saw the Doom of Valyria.” You say. “Targaryens are dreamers.”
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” Cregan shakes his head again, scoffing.
“My brother will die, Cregan. Whether you believe me or not, it will happen and I will be the heir to my mother’s claim.”
“And… you’ve just never thought to tell me this before?”
“Tell you what exactly, Cregan? I’ve had visions and dreams of the future? How exactly does one tell their husband that information without looking mad? When does one tell you that information, hm? When the first part of our marriage was spent in silence and the second part was spent pregnant and dying?”
“I get it. The timing was never right.”
You’re both silent for a moment.
“You support her claim. Would you support mine?” You speak up.
“Despite what they call my brothers?”
“You are no bastard, and neither are they. But, when it comes to you, there can be no claims against your birth right when you look exactly like your mother.”
“Do you know what they call her? The Whore of Dragonstone. Will you stand by me when they call me the Whore of Winterfell?”
“Don’t you dare ask me that.” He points at you. “I’ll stand by you until the day I die, and I’ll kill any man who’d dare to disrespect your name.”
“And you’d rule with me? In King’s Landing?”
“I made an oath to your mother, just as I made one to you. I’d follow you to the seven hells and back.”
“We. Have. Lyanna! I will not say it again! Do you realize what you’re asking of me?! You’re asking me to mark you for death! I will not kill you too!” He holds you by your arms, desperate to get it through your head.
“You didn’t kill her and you didn’t kill me!” You yell. “You cannot blame yourself for what is natural any longer!”
“So, then, tell me what else did you see. Did you see these halls running with children?” He asks.
“I suppose, in a sense. I-I don’t know, maybe they were ours. I can’t tell, fully.” You answer, truthfully, your voices coming back down.
“Tell me it honestly, right now, my princess.” He says, “Did you see yourself sitting that throne?”
“Yes.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.
His hand covers his mouth, still in disbelief.
“I cannot hear this any longer, truly. I’m going to bed.” He says, walking around you. He grabs a bucket of water, throwing it in the hearth to put out the fire that was meant to keep you warm.
“Oh my Gods, you’re being so dramatic!” You yell, as the room goes dark, except for a few small candles. 
“I do not wish to fight with you. I love you, I’m sorry I yelled, and I’m- I’m really confused how to feel right now. I want- no, need to sleep.” He says, and the guilt hits you. You had said so much information in less than 10 minutes, no wonder he was uneasy.
“Please come lay with me.” He says, getting into bed. You sit on the bed next to him, but don’t lay down. The questions eat him alive.
“When did you have these dreams?”
“Years ago.” You answer. “Sometimes, I still see them. But, they didn’t make sense then. They only do now. I’ve had to grieve my mother and my brother while they are still living, Cregan. How does one live with that?”
“I’m warning you.” An empty threat.
“If you train him, and give us more children, I will restore the North as an independent kingdom.”
Cregan sits up, looking at you in disbelief. You couldn’t have just said that. He’s sure he misheard you.
“If you prepare Rickon to take your place,” You say, slower. “I will restore the North as an independent kingdom.”
“You’re lying.” He says, still shocked.
“I would not lie to you.” You say. Cregan falls back in the pillow, palms covering his eyes. He takes them away after a few moments to look at you.
“You’re being serious, my wife?”
You nod. “You told Jacaerys your gaze is forever torn between North and South. Let me take that burden from you.”
“I… I need to sleep. I cannot think about this right now.” He says.
You concede. If that didn’t get him up right then and there to do it, nothing would. You kiss his temple, blow out the last few candles, and get under the furs to lay beside him. You stare up at the dark ceiling, the only light in the room coming from the moon into the window.
Cregan faces away from you, eyes wide open as he stares at the wall. Your hand covers your mouth, choking back sobs, but he feels your frame shaking.
“Oh, my princess.” He whispers, turning to hold you. You don’t hide it anymore, sobbing into his bare chest. “I’m sorry.”
“Sh, no, no.” He whispers, brushing his fingers through your long hair. “I love you. I’m so sorry if I was unkind. I love you so deeply.”
You held him tight against you, refusing to let go until you fell asleep.
You were alone when you awoke, which wasn’t a surprise to you. You had already expected him to wake up earlier to go be on his own, but the truth was he never slept.
You put on a robe, exiting your chambers to find him. Your bare feet pattered against the cold floor on the short walk to the children’s room, which was just a few doors down from your chambers.
And there he was, sitting beside the bed and softly playing with Lyanna’s hair while she slept. He loved his children both so much, but she was his angel, much like you.
“Cregan.” You said, softly, trying not to wake them. The sun hadn’t even begun to rise.
He looked up, and wiped his eyes quickly.
“Sorry, my love.” He said, standing and coming to you at the door. “I was just saying goodbye.”
“Goodbye?” You said, louder than intended.
“Mummy?” Rickon stirred awake.
“Hey, hey, hey.” You and Cregan both whispered, walking towards the bed.
“What’s wrong?” Rickon asked, as you both sat on the edge of their bed. They had their own, yet insisted on sleeping together every night.
“Nothing, my sweet. I’m so sorry, I did not mean to wake you.” You assure him. “We just were checking on you both.” Cregan brushed his fingers through Rickon’s curls.
“Why were you fighting?” He asks. You and Cregan look at each other. What else had they heard being so close to your room? Perhaps, it was time they switched halls.
“We, uh…” You hesitate. “We weren’t, my love.”
“Tell them the truth.” Cregan mumbles.
“Stop it.” You mumble back.
You both look at Rickon and smile, trying to reassure him nothing was wrong, despite the fact everything was wrong. Lya had woken as well, quietly staring at you and Cregan.
“Well, we were fighting, my children.” You admit. “Adults fight sometimes. You both fight sometimes too, yes? Over your toys?”
“What’s important is you love each other, despite your arguments.”
“Were you and father fighting over a toy?” Rickon asks.
“Sure.” You smile at him. “You’re quiet, Lya. Do you have anything you want to say?” She doesn’t react, too small to understand your words.
“Go back to sleep, it’s late. We’re sorry we woke you.” Cregan says, tucking them back in and kissing them both on the head.
You close the door softly on your exit. “Why would you tell them that?”
“They knew we were fighting, I’m sure the whole bloody castle did. It’s better they know.”
“Where are you going?” You cross your arms.
“We have a hunt, remember?” He says. You nod, the conversation returning to you. You had gotten so wrapped up in your argument you forgot he promised you a day out.
“Go dress. I’ll wait for you outside.” He kisses your cheek for a long time, his hands on your arms, not wanting to let you go.
There was clearly still tension between the both of you, but you decided it best to move past it. You loved him to death, whether he gave you more children or not.
Cregan was at war with himself the whole night you slept. You wanted more children so badly that you were willing to give him the North; the entire bloody North.
But, even with that offer, your life meant so much more to him. He had nearly died when you did. He could not do that again. His ancestors would have given everything for an offer like that, and who knew if his lineage would ever get this chance again? He didn’t know if he wanted to take that risk.
Sitting with his children brought him to the wrong answer: more heirs. Especially, Lyanna. She looked just like you, and how could he not want more of that? Then, Rickon, who was not yours but who you loved so deeply he may as well have been. He wanted a son with you, with both of your blood, of course, to sit in either Winterfell or King’s Landing. Which brought him to his next issue: with Lyanna as your first born and heir to your throne, who would she wed? A Targaryen always needed to sit the Iron Throne. But, Lya was a Stark which meant she needed wed to a Targaryen, and he refused to see his daughter marry one of your brothers, or her uncles.
To make matters more complicated, Cregan would be King in the North until Rickon came of age. He was barely four, how was Cregan to rule in the North and you in the South? Then, the worst thought of all: what if you were advised by your future council to wed Lyanna and Rickon? He couldn’t accept.
You interrupted his racing thoughts, and you couldn’t have picked better timing.
“You warm enough?” He asks, standing to greet you at the door of the council chambers.
“I think so.” You say, looking down at your thick layers of furs. He rests his hand on your back, walking you outside to the dark cold.
You stood aside as he made sure the saddle and supplies were secure on the house, the only light coming from the moon.
He held your hand as you placed your foot in the stirrups, making sure you got up okay. When you were settled he sat behind you, his warmth sending a chill up your spine. You scooted closer into him, wanting to feel it everywhere. He wrapped his arm around your stomach, securing you while holding the reins.
You rode in silence, but your ass against Cregan’s crotch was sending him into a frenzy. Each little bump in the trail bounced you against him, and you weren’t even trying.
He had made a silent vow to himself: you would not be having sex until he could get himself under control, no matter how long that took. He knew if he was intimate with you, he’d give you just want you wanted. Gods, he nearly broke last night when you sat on his length to take it yourself.
You were dangerous, and your cunt even more so.
“Sorry.” You said quietly, as the wind blew your hair into his face. He wasn’t complaining though, the floral scent of the soap in your hair was keeping him grounded.
“Perhaps, a hot bath when we get back?” You proposed. Gods, he was gonna fucking break.
“Okay.” He answered, dryly, only adding to the tension between you both. But really, he was just trying to keep himself under control. How couldn’t you see it? He didn’t need the North, he just needed you.
You rode further, but a sound nearby made him stop the horse in its tracks, taking his racing thoughts elsewhere.
“I didn’t say anything.” You whispered back. You watched him take the bow off his back, poising an arrow and aiming, but you couldn’t see where.
The sun had slowly started to rise, turning the sky into a low blue, but your vision was not as perceptive as Cregan’s, who had clearly been doing this for a long time.
You leaned forward, trying to give him more arm space to aim, unintentionally pushing your ass into him even more. He gripped the bow, trying to keep his focus on the large elk in front of him.
He released the arrow, missing by a mile.
“Fuck.” He said, watching the animal run away into the woods.
“Stop squirming around, I can’t focus with you moving on my cock like that.” He said, bluntly.
You couldn’t help but scoff, smiling a little. It really was unintentional.
“Perhaps, you could just get better.” You taunted, still leaning forward. He grabbed the back of your collar, pulling you to sit back up against his chest. But, he said nothing. You had bested him.
The tension of your argument had faded, and now, a new kind formed.
You went a little further down the trail, the sky turning a softer, but still low shade of blue as your search continued.
He was surprised this time when you grabbed the reins to stop the horse.
“What are you-“ He asked, his voice agitated.
“Sh.” Your turned slightly to have your hand cover his mouth, pointing with the other. “There.”
He saw it, another elk, and it was huge. He didn’t know how he had missed it. Seeing one was lucky, but two in a day was rare. He knew he couldn’t miss this shot. You took your hand off his mouth as he grabbed another arrow
“Do. Not. Move.” He whispered, and although you hadn’t the first time, you really held still for this one. You didn’t even dare breathe.
Cregan aimed, and hit it, the animal groaning and falling to the ground. You couldn’t help but shriek in excitement, before he quickly covered your mouth. But, he couldn’t hide his excitement either, smiling ear to ear.
“Sh, sh, sh.” He said, trying not to laugh. He stepped off the horse, helping you down after him. You both approached the animal slowly, Cregan holding his arm out to shield you behind him, just in case.
It was dead; a clean quick, death for the elk. You covered your mouth in excitement, jumping up and down in the snow.
He grabbed the antlers, lifting its head to hold it up for you.
“My Gods, it’s huge!” You said. “It’s almost as big as you!”
“Very funny.” He says, dropping it.
“That’s a compliment.” You say. Thankfully, his already red cheeks hid the blush.
He dragged it over to the horse as you watched, sweat dripping down his forehead, despite the cold.
“Could I get a hand here?” He asks, wiping it with the back of his hand.
“Looks like you’ve got it all figured out.” You tease. He huffs at you.
He gets the elk on the horse, only finally getting help from you at the end. He ties it down, panting in exhaustion. Dawn nearly breaks.
“Shall we call it a day?” He asks.
“I haven’t got anything.” You whine.
“Princess,” he laughs, “We should consider ourselves lucky we even saw two elks this quickly in the day. We won’t find anything else in this cold without being out here for hours.”
You pout, your nose and cheeks red from the bitter cold.
“Look at you,” He says. “I know you’re freezing, I can tell by your nose. Besides, I’ve got blood on me I want to go clean up.”
You pout more as he gets on the horse. He looks down at you standing beside it, and holds his hand out for you.
You both stare at each other for a really long time, his arm getting tired as he finally breaks. “Get on the damn horse.”
You sigh, taking his hand and straddling the horse, purposely pushing your ass on his crotch this time.
“Seven hells, I cannot stand you.” He moans.
“Good thing you’re sitting down.”
Cregan turns the horse, heading back the way you came. His arm is wrapped around your stomach again to hold you in place, and his gloved hand weaves under your layers, rubbing patterns against your skin to warm you up.
You lean back into him, head resting against his shoulder.
“I love you.” You say to him. He wraps his arm tighter around you.
“I know.” He says, kissing your temple.
It’s there he realizes he can’t resist you anymore. His vow to himself had lasted five hours, maybe. Maybe it was your warmth, or the way your ass moved against him each time the trail was rough, or the way your little red nose and cheeks brought out the sharp violet of your Targaryen eyes. Either way, it was all too much.
He pulls his hand from you, removing the glove and putting his bare hand back against your stomach. He trails his fingers up and down your sternum, sending chills up your spine. Your hands place themselves against his legs, anchoring you for support.
“You’re so mean to me, my lord husband.” You breathe, voice coated with lust. “You yell at me all night and then wish to touch me.”
“Let me make it up to you.” He whispers in your ear, his hand moving to massage your breasts, fingers pinching and playing with the skin.
You moan, and he drops the reins to take off his other glove, moving another hand down into your pants.
“Hold the reins.” He whispers against you, fingers rubbing against your slit. “Keep us on the trail.”
You moan, shaky hands grabbing to hold the reins and keep the horse steady.
You’re a whimpering mess, and your body naturally bucks forward, but Cregan holds you tight against him, still playing with your chest.
His fingers are relentless against your cunt, leaving you crying and shaking against him.
“Sit still.” He says, lowly, but his fingers on your breasts and the ones threatening to enter your cunt are too much. He slips two inside, knowing you’ll squirm even more.
“You’re gonna scare the horse.” He warns, yet thrusts his fingers into you without a care in the world. Your hand grips his thigh, still trying to hold the reins with the other, but the horse veers left and right from time to time.
“Are you gonna cum all over my fingers, wife? Have it leak out and stain my saddle?” He teases.
“Fuck you.” You moan, and he smirks. “You’re cruel.”
“Look at that,” He purs, “You’re confusing my horse.”
The horse moves back and forth on the trail, and his hand threatens to leave you and take the reins.
“No, no, please!” You beg, closing in on not only your release but the castle too, which grows closer and closer through the tree line.
“Then, keep the horse straight and keep your voice down.”
“I’m so close.” You whimper.
“I know you are.” He whispers into your hair, “You’re running out of time though, my love.”
You drop the reins, hands moving to the wrist in your pants, pushing his fingers with your own in desperate need to finish before you’re out of the woods.
“Be quiet.” He warns, “I can tell you’re about to scream.”
and he was right. The volume of your breathless whimpers grew more and more. He was so hard against you, his cock begging to break from his pants and fuck you.
You were right there, stuck on the edge of release but held back by the anxiety of finishing fast enough. You just needed that one thing, something to push you over, whether it was something dirty said from Cregan or a motion of his hand, just something.
He knew it, too, so his hand moved from your breast and wrapped around your throat, softly at first, then tighter to quiet the moans that were eliciting from your lips.
“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck.” You cried, attempting to lean forward and out of his reach again as you came, but his grip on your throat held you against him, and he let your screams go, saving them in his head to think about later.
Your grip on his wrist tightened, nails scratching at his skin as he groaned in pain, but he let you do it. He pulled out his fingers, wiping them on his pants and letting go of your throat, finally letting you lean forward to catch your breath. Your ass still arched against him, and his hands rested on your waist.
“Are you okay?” He asks. You nod against the horse, still shaking and whimpering.
“That’s my good girl.” He says, patting your back. “Let’s get back home.”
The horse pushes on, straight now that Cregan had the reins, and you eventually sit back up to lean against his chest. You exhale softly, falling asleep against him before reaching the castle. He let you rest, riding extra slow so you had more time, adjusting your buttons and straightening your furs before arriving back at the castle.
He shook you gently, seeing the kids waiting for you both in the yard. You opened your eyes, smiling upon seeing them wait.
“What’d you get? What’d you get?” Rickon asks, jumping up and down as you enter.
“Nice elk. He was big and strong.” Cregan says, flexing his arms to make them laugh. Lya points at him.
“Like you, father.” Rickon speaks for her.
“My sweet babes.” He says, picking them up to show them the elk on the horse.
You step down, Cregan shifting the kids in his arms to give you a hand.
“Don’t touch, Lya.” You say, catching her hand going to poke the dead elk.
“Can you take me, father?” He asks.
“Soon.” Cregan tells him, “It’s about time for your naps right now. Let’s go inside.”
You walk inside, Cregan carrying both of the children to their room as you hold the door open for him. He lays them down, while you light the hearth in their room to keep them warm.
You sit at the end of the bed, while Cregan sits at the headboard, one child under each arm lying on his chest. For some reason, he avoids your eyes. The tension of being home and needing to face reality at some point lingered in the air still.
Cregan was faced with his decision again, and being in the woods had given him a brief moment of peace for it to be forgotten. He didn’t have an answer, but felt like he owed you one. But, you knew his answer, or at least thought you did. You would only ever have one true born child, and she would be your only heir to the Iron Throne.
This didn’t stop the fact Cregan knew she would be betrothed to a Targaryen, which he would not accept for his only daughter.
“What troubles you?” You finally ask quietly, once the kids are sleeping. “We had a good morning. Forget about last night.”
He hesitates, “I’m not a gambling man but if I had to bet, you’ll wed her to a Targaryen, won’t you?”
“I… I haven’t even thought about that, Cregan. Gods. She’s two years old.”
“Don’t lie.” He says, “A Targaryen must always sit the Iron Throne, and while you’ll always be a Targaryen in the South, Lyanna is a Stark everywhere.”
“Well, now that you bring it up, yes. I will wed her to a Targaryen.”
“How could you?!” He says, quietly but aggressively, slightly leaning forward to show his anger, but still trying not to wake them. “It’s her choice!”
“I didn’t get to choose!” You spit back.
“You had a fucking easy choice, you didn’t need to! We had history.” He says. Lyanna shuffles in her sleep, crawling closer onto Cregan’s chest.
“I’d barely call it history.” You scoff and roll your eyes, standing to leave the room, him still trapped under the children.
“Come back here, now!” He whispers, quietly snapping his gloved fingers at you. You look at him from the door.
“Oh, you want me to come over there?” You mess with him. “Where, right here? Outside the door? Be specific.”
“Oh, my pretty wife, you are such a-“ You close the door, turning and walking to your room.
Cregan, as swiftly and calmly as possible, moves the kids off his chest, shushing them to stay asleep while putting the blankets over them.
He follows you to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him and walking to you on the bed.
“You will not name her heir.” Cregan says.
“Name one of your twin brothers, or Joffrey even as your heir, but not her!”
“Listen to yourself!” You cry out. “She’s my first born daughter, I am my mother’s first daughter, my mother is my grandfather’s first born daughter. If I do not name her my heir, everything we do will be for nothing!”
“Not my daughter.” Cregan repeats.
“Our daughter! I carried her for nine torturous months-“
“You would not have her if it weren’t for me!”
“I’d have more if it weren’t for you!”
“I can’t keep having this fucking argument!” He says, flipping a night table over.
“Oh, please spare me the dramatics.” You sigh, pressing your fingers to your temples.
“You are trying my patience, wife.” He says it with venom. “You’re hardly the woman I fell in love with anymore.”
“Funny!” You yell. “I was just going to say the same about you!”
He says nothing, instead turning and leaving.
You sigh into your hands. You hadn’t even sat on the Iron Throne, yet the prospect of it was tearing your marriage apart.
He was gone for maybe 5 minutes when the door opens again, and you’re surprised to look up and see it’s him.
“What? Come to flip another table, maybe punch the wall this time?” You ask, but he says nothing. You’re trying to read his features, sensing shock coming from him.
“What is it?” You ask, your tone much softer. He’s struggling to find the words. “Cregan, you’re scaring me. What is it?”
“Y-Your brother.” He says. “We just received word from a raven he was killed in the Gullet.”
You knew it was coming, you foresaw it years ago, and yet the words sent you falling apart.
He’s frozen in place. The news of your brother was a shock to him, of course. But, you really had seen it, that shocked him more.
He breaks out of his trance, pulling you into him to let you cry, but he can’t find the words to comfort you. You’d said it yourself, you grieved him while he was still living.
Then, your mother. Gods, it really would happen. You really would take the Iron Throne. He hadn’t fully processed it until now.
He was panicking inside. You were already a target, only no one dared threaten you here in the safety of the North when winter was at its climax. Now, when your mother inevitably announced to the kingdom that she named you as her next heir in line, Aegon would send his army hunting for your head.
And not just yours, but any heirs you had, including his Lyanna.
He had so many questions, and it felt like there was so little time to ask them.
You awoke to an empty bed again. The sun was barely rising, and your room was dimly lit with the blue hues of the early morning sky. There was a hot tea left on your nightstand, and you took a drink before going to find Cregan again.
He was not in the children’s room, or his council chambers, or the dining hall. It was only when you stepped outside for some fresh air, did you find him on accident.
He stood in the training yard swinging his sword against a training dummy. He was so skilled in combat, you at times forgot you and your husband were both still young, only in your 20s.
“Cregan.” You say from atop the balcony. “When’s the last time you’ve slept?”
He looks at you, his eyes clearly tired. “I wish I knew, my princess.”
He looks back down at his sword, finger tracing the blade. “Another raven arrived in the night… You’ve been named heir to the iron throne… and your mother has left King’s Landing until it is safe to return.”
You say nothing, taking time to process the information. You had a target on your back now, and you knew if Winter ended early the Greens still might try to march here, despite your dragon and the foreign soil.
“I will give you what it is you want, princess.” Cregan says. “But, I must stay here.”
“You do not need to restore the North as an independent kingdom. I think it best if when this war ends, you rule here and the South. I’ll ensure you sit that throne, and I’ll bend the knee and pledge my oath to you once again.”
You walk down the stairs to the yard, straight to him without stopping. He drops his sword, wrapping his arms around you as you press your lips to his.
“I won’t do any of it without you by my side.” You say, holding his cheeks. His gloved hands holds yours against his face, closing his eyes to embrace your touch.
“My place is here.” He says.
“But, my place is with you.”
“My love… Duty is sacrifice.” He says. “You know that you must serve the realm when the time comes.”
Tears fall from your eyes, and he wipes them away.
“You and I will march when this winter ends. I’ll ensure you’re safe-“
“I’ll bring- look at me- I’ll bring you a sworn protector. I will give you a babe over and over, as many times as you want-“
“You don’t mean this.” You say, stepping out of his hold.
“I…” He pauses. He didn’t mean this, he had said it himself he would’ve followed you anywhere, but he was at a loss of what to do. “I don’t know what to do any longer. How are we meant to rule two places at once, or to have Rickon rule here at four years old? And what of Lya? No where is safe for you or her.”
“We’re safe wherever you are, Cregan.” You press your forehead to his chest, before looking up at him. “Our children will come with us wherever we go. We rule in King’s Landing, you name a hand for Winterfell to rule until Rickon is of age, and Lya… I will name one of my brother’s as my heir instead of her, and I will let the courtships come to her.”
Cregan paused. He did not want Lya on the throne, and he did not want Lya wedding a Targaryen, and you knew it. He’d seen how King’s Landing treated your mother, the rightful heir, he’d seen how they treated your brothers, calling them bastards of Harwin Strong, and he had seen how they treated you… the shameful ways they spoke about your beauty… He did not want Lyanna to go through that, which she would if she ruled in King’s Landing.
Talking of prospects of the throne felt so strange, like you were plotting against your mother. But, you could not change fate no matter how hard you tried. All you knew is you would sit the throne, that meant the only thing you could do was prepare for it. You had written her letters of your visions, maybe that was why she left King’s Landing. Wherever she was going, you hoped she was safe.
“Stay with me.” You plead, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’m losing you.”
The truth was you would never lose him, despite all this arguing and fucking, and fucking and arguing, he was always yours. He thought he knew love before you, with Alysanne, but he only knew the idea of it. But, your love with him was enough to make him fall on his sword for you, if you had asked.
“Not even close.” He says, pressing a deep kiss into your lips. “Oh, my sweet girl, I am so tired of fighting with you.”
“As am I.” You breathe into the kiss. “But, I fear we have a dangerous road ahead of us.”
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