The Festival of the First Snow.
Cregan Stark X Targaryen reader
•Cregan and his wife prepare for the Festival of the first snow. During the festival the sneak off to the Gods wood.
•Wife is referred to as y/n. Small description of her. Targaryen features.One mention of being petite.
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Cregan Stark leaned back in his chair, the crackling fire in his study casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. The scent of burning wood mingled with the faint aroma of parchment and ink, creating a comforting atmosphere as he reviewed the plans for the upcoming Winter Festivals. The Festival of the First snow was to take place in a matter of days, marking the onset of winter. His brow furrowed in concentration, but a soft laugh broke his focus.
“Cregan, you look as if you’re preparing for a battle rather than a celebration,” y/n , his wife, teased, her voice light and melodic. She stood by the window, her silver hair catching the firelight, framing her face like a halo.
Cregan smiled, his heart warming at the sight of her. “Perhaps I am. The Northmen can be a rowdy lot after too much drink. I must ensure we have enough mead to keep them merry and not too rowdy.”
She turned to him, her violet eyes sparkling with mischief. “And what of the women? They deserve to be entertained as well. We should plan games for the children and stories for the ladies. Perhaps a dance beneath the stars?”
“Dance?” Cregan echoed, his voice low and teasing. “You know I have two left feet, y/n”. I’d sooner wrestle a direwolf than dance.”
She laughed, the sound brightening the room. “Then I shall teach you, my wolf. We will make it a night to remember.”
As they discussed their plans, y/n moved closer, her presence filling the space with warmth. They spoke of the traditions of the festival’s—the feasting, the storytelling, the games, and the honoring of the Old Gods. Each idea sparked excitement between them, weaving their hearts closer like the intricate patterns of the tapestries that adorned Winterfell’s walls.
The next night, the great hall of Winterfell was adorned with evergreens and flickering candles, casting a warm glow over the long wooden tables. The scent of roasted meats and spiced wine filled the air, and laughter echoed as the Northmen gathered, their spirits high. Cregan, ever the young wolf, sat among the men, sharing tales of bravery and adventure, his voice strong and commanding.
y/n, sat across the hall with the women, radiating beauty in a deep sapphire gown that hugged her figure perfectly, the fabric shimmering like the stars. Cregan’s breath caught as he caught sight of her, his heart racing like the thundering hooves of a charging wolf. Their eyes met across the hall, and in that moment, the noise of the festival faded into the background.
He admired the way her laughter danced in the air, how her eyes sparkled with mischief, and how she moved with grace. Cregan felt a warmth spread through him, a primal need to be near her, to claim her as his own. The way she tilted her head and smiled made him forget the stories he was telling, and he found himself lost in thoughts of her.
As the night wore on, a group of men began to share a particularly wild story of a hunt gone wrong, their voices rising in excitement. “And there we were, facing down a bear as big as a horse!” one man boasted, his arms gesturing wildly. The hall erupted in laughter, but Cregan’s attention was divided. He caught his wife’s gaze again, and she raised her cup, a playful smile on her lips.
Time slipped away, and many looks were passed between the pair, and soon the feast began to wind down. y/n stood to leave, her dress flowing behind her like a whisper of the wind. As she walked towards the doors, she glanced back, locking eyes with Cregan once more. He couldn’t help but notice the way her hips swayed and her dress hugged her waist enhancing her figure. He needed her. He felt like a wolf during a full moon, drawn to her, filled with a longing that was both fierce and gentle. He wasn’t used to these feelings that consumed him whenever she was near but he knew it was love.
As soon as she exited the hall, Cregan rose, his instincts guiding him. He followed her out, careful to avoid the prying eyes of the other guests. He saw her slip into the Godswood, the ancient trees standing sentinel around her.
Cregan stealthily moved through the dense underbrush of the God’s Woods, the moonlight filtering through the branches above, casting a silver glow that danced across the forest floor. His heart raced, not from the thrill of the chase but from the intoxicating presence of her. She moved like a whisper among the trees, a vision that stirred something primal within him. He craved her like a wolf starved, every instinct urging him to close the distance between them.
As she reached a clearing, y/n settled onto a wooden stump by the water's edge, her silhouette framed by the shimmering reflections of the moon. Cregan paused, taking in the sight of her—such a petite, perfect thing, yet she had such power over him. He stepped forward, a playful smirk crossing his lips. "You know, it’s dangerous to wander these woods alone. What if a hungry wolf were to come along?"
She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, I’d just have to show that wolf who’s really in charge, wouldn’t I?" Her playful tone sent a shiver down his spine, igniting a fire of desire within him. Cregan couldn't help but chuckle, his cockiness shining through. "I’d like to see you try. But I must warn you, I don’t play fair."
The chase was on. She stood up, a teasing smile on her lips as she darted away, her laughter echoing through the trees. Cregan was quick to follow, weaving through the trunks, his heart pounding not just from exertion but from the thrill of the pursuit. He relished the game, the way her energy electrified the air around them. "Catch me if you can!" she called out, glancing back at him with a playful challenge.
With each step, he felt the desperation growing within him—he needed to catch her, to claim this moment. Finally, he lunged forward, wrapping his arms around her waist just as she reached another clearing. She squealed in surprise, and he spun her around, their faces inches apart. "Got you," he breathed, his voice low and teasing.
y/n’s eyes sparkled with a mix of challenge and delight. "You think you’ve won, don’t you? But this isn’t over yet." She leaned closer, her breath warm against his skin, and for a moment, time stood still. Cregan's heart raced, the playful banter giving way to something deeper, more desperate. "Oh, I’m counting on it," he replied, his voice thick with longing, as he leaned in, ready to savor the taste of victory.
With a soft smile, she leaned in, and their lips met in a slow yet passionate kiss that quickly ignited into something more fervent. Cregan's hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as their kiss deepened, filled with desperation and longing. Her hands were wrapped up in his hair pulling slightly. He lifted her up in one swift movement and she wrapped her legs around him. He pushed her up against the Weirwood tree so that the Gods could witness the love he would make to his wife. The world around them faded away, leaving only the sound of rustling leaves and their hearts beating in unison. In that sacred space, they were lost in each other, wrapped up in the intoxicating warmth of their love….
