on this tully tuesday, fuck you ryan condal, i see what you're doing. merging kermit and oscar tully and killing off their dad elmo without even naming him, you're trying to hide the muppet-naming pattern by only including the more mundane names. people may have heard of the name grover elsewhere like nonconsective us president grover cleveland, and certainly would with oscar like oscar mayar, the baloney/weiner man, but if you hear the names elmo and/or kermit you're thinking muppets right away. smdh, if you can embrace the gothic horror of harrenhal, you should be able to embrace the whimsy of grrm naming his dance-era tullys after sesame street muppets.
I always knew House of the Dragon would be too chicken shit cowardly to actually commit to the Muppet Tullys.
They are too afraid of their “prestigious” show be made fun of that they could only use the most “normal” names and erased both Elmo and Kermit. Here’s hoping they’ll actually let Oscar Tully show some fortitude and use book Kermit’s Morningstar weapon to smash Borros Baratheon’s face in.
Here’s also hoping that Willem Blackwood is not there to replace Benjicot Blackwood and Black Aly. The show ruining the Lads as it is already sucks, we don’t need it to suck any further.
did they merge three whole tullys into one single thirteen year old because Oscar is more of a serious name and less of a muppet name than Kermit or what
❖ THE SHORT, SAD REIGN OF AEGON II & THE HOUR OF THE WOLF
(From Fire & Blood, Volume I)
The final days of the Dance of the Dragons are written in poison and ice. Though King Aegon II reclaims his throne, his reign is a bitter, broken shadow of his former glory, ultimately cut short by the treacherous vipers of his own court. As the realm attempts to heal, the terrifying arrival of Lord Cregan Stark plunges King's Landing back into fear, ensuring that the war's final chapter is closed with uncompromising Northern justice.
Lady Bella Tully is the eldest child of the late Lord Elmo Tully. Bella was a product of the fruitful union of Lord Elmo Tully and Lady Gwenys Tully (neé Strong). Born in the year 110 A.C, in Riverrun. For her mother, her birth was a blessing because she was the first child of the couple who wasn't a stillbirth.
However, her father wished for an heir. Like her siblings, Lady Bella inherited the Tully looks. During her childhood, Lady Bella was described as being a talented musician. But, painfully shy. Like any Tully, Lady Bella was devoted to her younger siblings, Kermit, Oscar and Amerei Tully.
In the year 126 A.C, Lady Bella married for duty Lord Ormund Hightower, becoming his second wife. Their union only produced two daughters.
Despite being married to a Hightower, the maesters' reports conflict over whether Lady Bella's allegiance lay with the greens like her lord father or the blacks like her siblings. The only truly known fact is that just three days after the death of the late Lord Hightower, Lady Bella returned with her daughters to Riverrun to join her siblings, Kermit and Oscar, to fight for the blacks. Lady Bella became really close to Lady Sabitha Frey and Lady Alysanne Blackwood.
In 131 A.C, Bella was present in King's Landing for the Hour of the Wolf. When Lord Cregan Stark finally arrived at King's Landing. Some reports that the recent arrests, like Lord Corlys Velaryon and the widow of Lord Ormund Hightower, got closer to Lord Cregan Stark due to self-preservation. However, after the dance, Bella left for the north with her children alongside Cregan Stark.
In 132 A.C, Lord Cregan Stark and Lady Bella Tully got married in Winterfell. Some believe Bella was far happier in Winterfell than she had ever been in Oldtown. Her marriage to Cregan Stark proved to be a fruitful and loving wedding despite his stern nature.
The rest of Bella's life was peaceful; she died of old age in the year 180 A.C.
Warning- ptsd, ANGST!!!, swearing, talks of blood, and death. SPOILERS!! FOR FUTURE EVENTS OF HOTD, USING FIRE AND BLOOD, long chapter.
Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader
Episode/Pages- 561-578
(If you want to be tagged let me know)
————
If you close your eyes now, as you twist your son's hair in between your fingers, you can still remember the whiffs of your mother's sweet perfume hitting your nose as she stood behind you. You remember her warmth that radiated off her body and embraced you, providing a comfort only a mother could. You remember the gentle touch of your mother's soft and delicate hands as she carefully gripped strands of your hair and braided them herself.
She was the King's heir so she tried to keep herself busy to learn everything an heir should, but she always took time out of her day to braid your hair. She made it her mission to learn how to braid so your hair would be protected.
It’s been years since then, but you remember it all as if you had lived it yesterday.
Sometimes after a good night's sleep, as you stir awake you believe for a flicker of a second that you’re still there, in the Red Keep with your mother and your brothers, but you then snap out of your grogginess and decades have passed by, aging you to an age you mother never reached.
“Maekor,” you call out to your eldest son and child with your husband. “Has your brother tried talking to you?”
“Which one?” He queries as he can’t possibly read your mind about which out of four brothers you could be referring to.
“Torrhen,” you mention as you take another strand of hair to continue the same process. “He’s…been having a hard time again, and I reminded him that he could talk to you or Jace. I just don’t want him to feel isolated if he doesn’t want to talk to me.”
Maekor sighs deeply and licks his lips before he gives you a response. “No, he hasn’t. I’ve hardly seen him.”
You hum and slump in your seat, letting his half-twisted hair go and dropping your head to fix your rings. “Well, could you try talking to him? I know I shouldn’t ask you, but he’s reluctant to talk to me, and you know how he feels about his father,” you begin to grow quieter with every word that comes out of your mouth. “I know it shouldn’t be your burden to bear, but you’re his older brother, he might feel more inclined—”
“I’d argue Aerion is the eldest,” a third voice interrupts you; one suave and taunting.
When you lift your head and peer back you see Jacaerys, your third child and second son with your husband. Albeit, he also counts as your sixth child out of seven if you count your three children with Aemond. But if you count your husband's firstborn with his first wife, Jacaerys is your seventh child out of eight.
It's all such a mess…
“Jacaerys,” Maekor scolds his younger brother.
“Mother,” said man greets you sweetly as he reaches you and bends down to press a peck on your cheek before he walks forward so he can be in front of you and Maekor.
“You stink of sweat,” you point out with your nose wrinkling in disgust. “Have you been out all night?” You probe.
Jacaerys steals a wooden chair and drags it back to swing his leg around it and sit with his chest pressed against the back of the seat. “Yes, I’m enjoying my last moments of freedom before I’m forever enslaved as a brother of the Night's Watch.”
“To be a brother of the Night's Watch is a great honor,” Maekor reminds his brother who immediately shows that he disapproves of that ideology.
“Says you,” Jacaerys quips as he folds his arms over the back of the chair and then rests his chin on his arms. “You’re a second son. You’re father's spare if anything happens to his firstborn son.”
“Jacaerys,” you gently scold your son as you stand up to continue twisting Maekor’s hair.
“Mother,” he mocks you and then continues to spew his regular complaints. “It’s true. He won’t ever have the responsibility of having to join the Night’s Watch. He’ll never be sworn off women, or be forced to live at the wall with outcast men.”
“You don’t even like women,” Maekor remarks under his breath.
“I do,” Jacaerys points his finger at his brother. “But that’s not the point! The point is that you won’t ever have to be forced to join the Night’s Watch.”
You finish with the twist you were working on and then drift your focus to Jacaerys. “You don’t have to join the Night’s Watch either, Jace. You have dragons blood in you—”
“So I can either be forced to procreate with one of your cousins' daughters and be tied down that way forever, or be trapped at the Wall until I die.” He scoffs, making Maekor groan.
“You’re in a mood.”
You step away from Maekor and approach Jacaerys with a knowing smile that makes him lower his head. “Mother,” he mutters and you crouch to be at his level.
“You can do whatever it is your heart desires,” you tell him in a sweet and sincere voice. “If you don’t want to join the Night’s Watch, you don’t have to. If you don’t want to get married and you just want to get on a ship and travel, then you will get on that ship and I will bid you goodbye.”
The tension holding Jacaerys’ shoulders and jaw captive let him loose, and in its place, a softness unfurls in his eyes that makes them glisten like glittering snowflakes on an untouched blanket of snow.
“But father…will be disappointed if I don’t join,” Jacaerys reminds you, or more so shares the only reason why he feels like he has to join. “It’s my duty. Maekor cannot join, and Torrhen…is too burdened by his visions to be fully there. It lies on me to bring that honor to our family.”
You huff and lift your hand to stroke his cheek. “No, my love, your father wouldn’t be disappointed. He understands what it’s like to want things too, and if he didn’t I would make him because you, my darling boy, are our son and we want you to be happy. We want you all to be happy”
As tough as Jacaerys acts, he’s still the most sensitive out of all your children, so his eyes well up, but he doesn’t let himself cry. He lowers his head and you slide your hand back to cup the back of his neck.
“So if you don’t want to join the Night’s Watch, then don’t, okay? I’ll be proud of you with whatever it is you choose.” You assure him as you press a kiss on the back of his head before you let him go and stand up to return to Maekor, leaving Jacaerys with his head hanging low.
“Anyway, talk to Torrhen, okay? Maybe go out together or I don’t know, do brother stuff,” you continue your conversation with Maekor. “Just let him know he can rely on you.”
Gardens that were once vivid and full of life are now bare and haunting without Helaena here to fill them with the pure love she had for insects and plant life.
You never understood her fascination for the gross critters, but she loved to talk about them and show them off when she’d catch them, so you always listened of course. You’d walk around the garden side by side until she grew tired or you had somewhere to get to. Now…not even the chirping of an insect is here to keep you company. Sure, it’s due to the winter climate, but without her, the gardens are so desolate either way.
“Your Grace?”
You perk up at the sound of you being called and turn away from the fountain thinking you might see Cregan. Even though you’ve been rejecting his summons and have been averting your gaze when you’re in the same room, you still hope that when you turn around it's him joining you in the gardens.
Alas, when your eyes fall on the figure approaching you, for a split second you freeze as you swear to every god, new and old, that it's your mother. You see her beautiful face untouched by any fire. You see her long golden-silver hair flowing behind her, and captured under the soft hue of the cold sun. Albeit, when you blink she vanishes and Lord Kermit is approaching you in her place.
“Were you expecting someone else?” Lord Kermit catches the disappointment on your face and offers you a teasing smile.
“Ah,” you breathe out and fix an invisible wrinkle on your light sea-green gown. “Well perhaps,” you admit shamelessly. “My cousin Rhaena should be arriving at the city soon, and I’m still waiting on responses from the Lord and Ladies we sent pardons to, so,” you pause and sigh as you fix your ring next. “Yes, actually. Sorry.”
Lord Kermit scoffs and reaches the fountain you’re sitting on to respond. “No, it’s alright. You are a very busy woman. I do not envy it.”
You scoff softly and then pat the empty spot beside you. “Will you sit with me? At least for a moment?”
Whether out of obligation, because he was seeking your company, and or because he had nothing better to do, he takes you up on your offer, filling your heart at least with a flicker of warmth.
“I am only out here now because Lord Stark says that if I’m with him whilst he’s questioning suspects, they might feel obliged to hide the truth, so,” you sigh. “I'm here.”
Lord Kermit looks around at the gardens and huffs. “Out here in the cold?”
You giggle. “It’s either here or wait impatiently for me to be questioned next.”
Lord Kermit drops his head at that and mutters his thoughts. “It’s mad that Lord Stark is questioning you too.”
Your face falls and you slowly lower your head, finding your reflection painted on the water's surface. “Why is it so mad?” You ask as you stare long and hard at the woman staring back at you.
“Because…you’re the Queen Regent and you shouldn’t be put to question.”
“Is that all?” You whisper and catch Lord Kermit’s confusion reflecting on the water's surface.
“Had it been me?” You clarify. “Would it be so mad then? Would it make me a villain?”
You keep your eyes on your reflection and you know you don’t see someone full of guilt looking back at you. You don’t see someone wicked either like others paint you out to be. You don’t know who or what you see exactly, but you know guilt and wickedness is not something on the surface.
“Many would see a villain,” Lord Kermit admits, pulling your gaze to his flesh-made face with an immediate sadness.
“But I wouldn’t see the same,” he continues, making your breath catch in your throat. “He would have deserved it and you would have had all the reason to do it. Even if the weapon was less than honorable.”
You blink repeatedly and hum in response before you drop your gaze on the water's surface again and ask yourself if settling with someone understanding like Lord Kermit would be something you’d like, considering Cregan’s current position in these current affairs.
Lord Kermit is not ugly. He’s quite handsome with his fire-kissed hair and he’s a Lord and a Warden no less. He’s seen you fight so he wouldn't be against it, and he’s not afraid of Astraea, so settling for him wouldn’t be terrible. After all, you also have a duty to your family to restore your line now that most of it is gone. However…could Cregan really turn out to hate you so much that he wouldn’t consider a future with you anymore? After so much longing to be together and finally have the opportunity, would he really throw it away over a man who’s not even worth the fuss?
Are you really not worth that much to him?
“Tell me, Lord Kermit,” you interject in a much sweeter tone. “Has snow reached Riverrun?”
Lord Kermit is caught off guard by the sudden change in subject but he welcomes it and matches your energy right away. “Perhaps. I have not been home in some time. I imagine the winter snows have reached Riverrun by now…but I really wish it wouldn’t.”
“Oh?” You probe. “You prefer the rain?”
Lord Kermit chuckles and your lips pull to a smile.
“It’s not always raining, alright?” He retorts. “It's a common misconception.”
You smile wider and he continues. “There’s actually a lot of sun. I myself prefer the sun.”
You nod gently in comprehension before you cut in. “Me too. I love the sun, hot summer days by the sea or in the sea. I wish it would be summer now because then at least I could keep myself busy by diving.”
“Diving?” He questions and you nod excitedly.
“It’s fantastic and liberating. There’s so many secrets to uncover, and so many different sea creatures to meet. Even in rivers!” You point out with a grin as you’re filled with warm memories. “The world is truly endless underwater,” you muse and glance down at the water filling the fountain.
Lord Kermit hums with a sense of admiration before he interjects boldly. “Well then I’m sure you would be fond of the Riverlands, there's so many different waters to explore.”
Your smile falters but you don’t drop it even if it fades in your eyes, leaving them dull and uninterested. You’re about to give him a response, but you then catch the sound of footsteps and as if waiting for someone to come rescue you, you immediately drop the matter and snap your attention to the incomer, catching Cregan approaching with his gaze hardening on Lord Kermit.
“Lord Stark,” the young lord greets almost bregudgly
“Lord Tully,” said man responds and then glances at you expecting some kind of greeting, but you keep quiet, making him interject. “I see a lot of you as of late. Have you grown to like the Keep?”
Lord Kermit steals a glance at you as you keep your eyes pierced on Cregan as if you want to curse him or undress him with your eyes. Lord Kermit doesn’t realize that though so he just looks at you to gain his answer.
“I have grown quite fond of its beauty, yes,” he references you and Cregan catches it and sucks in the inside of his lip to try and keep from showing his emotions.
“Do you need something, Lord Stark?” You act clueless. “Lord Kermit was talking to me about the Riverlands.”
Cregan’s eyes drift to you and you hold his gaze and press him speechlessly.
“Well yes, I do, you are next for questioning,” he says what you already knew.
“You did not have to come all this way,” you taunt him, making him scoff.
“Well you left me no choice, you weren’t outside of the throne room,” he quips and you hum and then stand on your feet, but turn to Lord Kermit first as he mirrors your actions—“Thank you for keeping me company,” you tell the young lord and offer him a small curtsy, making him bow in response with a charming smile on his face.
“Thank you for letting me be in your company,” he redirects and tries to hold your gaze, but you quickly turn away and spare Cregan a glance before you walk ahead of him. He then tries to walk at your side but you speed up and fill the silence by talking to Ser Cane about nothing truly important, you just don't want to leave space for Cregan to talk to you.
When you reach the throne room, in the echoing silence you find yourself feeling nervous. Usually being with Cregan would calm down any unsettled nerves, but as of now being in his presence and knowing what he’s after without the guarantee that you’ll be supported no matter what makes you nervous. More so as he has the guards leave the room except for Ser Cane.
“We both know why you’re here, my Queen,” Cregan is the first to break the silence while you keep your back facing him as you slowly wander the room trying to prolong the matter—“there’s no use dancing around the question or the answer.”
You slowly peer at him over your shoulder and bat your lashes as you graze your finger on the wooden seat he has below the Iron Throne.
“Then ask what you’ve been dying to ask me, my Lord,” you quip and look away to start ascending the stairs that lead to the Iron Throne.
“Did you provide the poison to the King?” He asks, doing what he said, but you purposely prolong the silence by reaching the Iron Throne first and sitting down on the cold and hard seat.
You’ve never let yourself sit on the Iron Throne before; especially not when Aegon was king and not after he died. No matter how much you dreamed of sitting on it once upon a time, when you finally had the ability to do so you never could do it because it was a reminder of everything you lost for it. Now though…you sit on the throne not because you’ve grown an interest in it. You sit on the throne to tip the power scales back to you so Cregan remembers that you are the Queen Regent first and foremost.
“No,” you deadpan and don’t actually lie. You didn’t give Aegon the poison, you might have provided it for his murder but when it came down to it it was not you who slipped it in his wine.
“Hm,” Cregan hums in comprehension and slowly walks to the foot of the Iron Throne to be closer without climbing the steps. “You were his wife. You were closer to him more than anyone in this castle. You shared a marriage bed. You had the opportunity to see him whenever you desired. It would have been easy for you to slip the poison in his wine.”
Your lips droop to a deep frown whilst your eyes harden, but also start to slowly grow red as tears well up, making Cregan’s reflection clear as all your attention is on him.
“We were married under the eyes of The Seven, yes, but the marriage was never consummated,” you clarify. “He tried many times to consummate it, but after his injuries, he was not the same. So after a while of failures, he stopped summoning me to his private chambers.”
Cregan nods and probes further. “And you slept in different quarters?”
You scoff and nod stiffly. “After the death of his son at the beginning of the war, they had the King and the Queen sleep in different chambers, so no, we never shared the same quarters. We never shared a bed. I was his Queen because there’s no consummation needed to gain the title, but besides that, we were basically strangers.”
Cregan drops his head and lets out a deep breath before he continues. “You had more motive than anyone here to see him dead though. You were in the middle of a coup when he died too, so it would have been easier to slip him the poison. Or have others do it for you.”
You blink and draw out a small breath. “Perhaps, but what do you think, Lord Stark? You know it all, and you have gained all the testimony’s from the other suspects, so tell me now Lord Stark if you think it was me.” You sneer as you lower your chin to pierce your watery glare on him and await his answer.
“No more dancing around,” you press. “Tell me and then ask me directly.”
Cregan draws in a deep breath and you let out a shaky breath as you grip onto the throne so hard that the blades start to break your skin.
“I,” he parts his lips and looks into your eyes to find his answer in the eyes of the woman he loves more than life itself. And that’s what blurs his judgment. “I like to think you didn’t. Did you? Did you poison him?”
Based on his answer you draw in a deep breath and lie because what he expects is what he wants to hear. He doesn’t want to blame you, but he would and that’s what drives you to lie to the man you love.
“No, but if I had, did I not have every right to? After what I told you, from what you know, do I not have every damn reason to kill him in any way?” You remark and grip harder onto the Iron Throne, to the point blood begins to leak out of cuts growing deeper the tighter your grip gets. “Would it have mattered what weapon was used to kill the monster that ruined not only my life but everyone else’s? Tell me oh noble Stark.”
And with that Cregan’s rose-colored glasses fall from his eyes and he finally sees you, the woman he lived with for 5 five years. The fierce woman who wields a sword and walks through fire without getting burnt. He sees a fierce dragon in his midst and he starts to realize that he might be wrong about you and that you are more than likely lying.
“You were in the middle of a coup it’s not so outrageous that it could have been you,” he lets it be heard and you tilt your chin up and query.
“And since I was in the middle of a coup wouldn't it have been easier for me to slay him with my sword? So the masses could be witnesses?”
“Most of the Smallfolk hate you for the violence you used against them,” he counters right away, and you don’t stay quiet for a second. You hit him right back.
“And they hated my mother because she raised the taxes after their king's men stole the money. I am also a woman. After they killed my dragons I stopped caring about what they like or hate. They may cry a river and I would not bat an eye. I’m keeping them alive, that's all that matters.”
Cregan takes in what you spat and finds himself caught off guard by this change in you, but then again if he wasn’t letting his heart get in the way, your change wouldn’t be at all surprising.
“Proving you wouldn’t care if you used poison or not,” he rebuttals, making you sit back and tilt your head low to scowl.
“No,” you counter bluntly. “A weapon is a weapon. He was a monster,” you spat and cloud your vision. “He deserved what he got. He deserved more suffering actually, but he got his end so why can’t you just let him rot?” You hiss. “You defend him with so much passion because of your honor, but if you weren’t so blinded by it you would know what I do. You would see it in my eyes and the eyes of many, but you’re blind and it’s so easy to tell.”
You get up swiftly and storm down the steps. When you reach him, when your chest is grazing against his you tilt your head, glance at his lips, and then look him in the eye. “Believe me if you want to, I don’t care. He’s dead and my brother's life doesn’t hang in the balance anymore. I can breathe again. That’s all that matters to me.” You swallow thickly and he licks his lips before you shove past him and storm out of the throne room.
Once you’re at the door and the moment they open your grandfather walks up to meet you under the frame and grabs your shoulders.
“I will think about what your father and your grandmother would have wanted,” he whispers and for the first time in a long time, he presses a kiss on your forehead, showing you a kindness he hasn’t shown you in so long.
“Grandfather,” you whisper back but he lets you go and walks away. When you turn the doors close behind him, forcing you to wait where he left you with your bloody hands clasped, and your heart sinking.
The tears you were so against fall down your cheeks and when you try to wipe them off blood stains your face. The blood doesn’t even get to dry before the doors open and your grandfather walks out with his hands restrained and guards now holding onto him to make sure he doesn’t escape.
“Grandfather,” you cry and run over to grab his arms with more tears mixing with the stains of blood running down your cheeks. “What are you doing?” You direct at Cregan. “Let him go.”
The man you’re now looking at stares at you hard and then mutters. “He admitted to poisoning the King. His freedom will come when he’s dead now.”
You shake your head and your grandfather cuts in. “Hush now. You are Queen. Do not shed any tears for me, Your Grace. I did what I did for you and the good of the realm. There’s no shame in it.”
Your heart. The poor withered thing starts to hurt and you cry harder. You even look at Cregan with a heartbroken look. “Please don’t kill him. I demand it. I beg. Please.”
Cregan looks away and clenches his jaw as he finds your weeping too hurtful to bear. “It has to be done and your demands can’t overpower it. He dies tomorrow at sundown. You can say your goodbyes then. Let’s go,” he then directs at his guards and leaves no more room for arguing or pleading. He couldn’t stand it, and he knew prolonging the matter would only hurt more.
“Cregan,” his name comes out shakily from your lips and he hears it but he doesn’t pay it any mind. He can’t or he’d break.
——
*THE NEXT DAY*
With mustered excitement, you shift from one foot to the other as you watch Rhaena, at last, descend her dragon after almost a year of not seeing her.
With fewer friends to talk to even though the Red Keep is buzzing with people, finally having someone you know you can confide in and a shoulder to cry on is like a light breaking in the darkness. Albeit you don’t run to her right away, you let her reunite with her sister. You let them enjoy their own moment before you finally depart from your spot and run to her to greet her with an embrace.
“Rhaena,” you whisper out in relief and hold onto her tightly.
Said girl returns your tight embrace and whispers your name too before she immediately expresses her condolences. “I am so sorry about what happened. I am so sorry about Rhaenyra. I should have been with you all. I’m so sorry.”
She pulls back to grab your arms and look you in the eye with pity and grief of her own. “Will you forgive me?” She asks.
Your breath shudders and your eyes sting as you immediately offer her relief by nodding. “Of course, but there was nothing to forgive anyway.”
She draws out a heavy breath that seems to have been weighing her down and lets her eyes linger on you for a moment before she steps back to look at her sister. “Now what is it I hear about the two of you being at odds with each other? Now when we’re supposed to be at our strongest?”
Both Baela and you avert your gaze out of shame and stiffen as the tension is quick to slip around you.
“I know what happened, you had opposing mindsets on the matter, but the sin was committed and our family was eradicated, forgive each other or live the rest of your lives like Rhaenyra and her brothers did,” Rhaena scolds you both and pinches your arms, making you roll your head down and then slowly bring your eyes up to meet Baela’s shameful gaze.
“I’m sorry, Baela,” you interject first. “That’s all I can offer you because if I said I regretted what I did then I would be lying and I don’t want to lie, so I’m sorry.”
Baela rubs her offended area and sighs deeply before she also directs her apology at you. “I hope you forgive me too. I shouldn’t have let it go on for as long as I did. I am sorry.”
Her bottom lip begins to tremble and yours quickly does the same. Before either of you could be seen shedding a tear though, you step in for an embrace and shed your tears then, when you’re both out of sight.
“Thank you,” you mumble and cling onto her. “For forgiving me.”
Baela rubs your back in response and you linger in the embrace for a moment longer before you pull away and face the twins. “Do you want to go see Aegon?” You direct at Rhaena, and she immediately looks at you puzzled.
“What about our grandfather? What are we going to do to stop Lord Stark from killing him? Lady Arryn told me about the letter Alyn sent. Does Lord Stark really want to fight another war?”
“He’s eager to keep shedding blood,” Baela grumbles whilst you sigh and then try to offer her some consolation.
“I will talk to Lord Stark soon, do not worry…” you trail off as you don’t have much confidence in yourself, but you still try to be positive on the matter. In response, the twins share a look and you think it’s because they catch your own doubt, but they start to giggle.
“What?” You probe.
They share a knowing look and leave you clueless as they grab your arms and lead you back inside. However, perhaps you should have stayed outside, or gone a completely other way to visit Aegon because on your way there, in a corridor that overlooks one of the many training yards, your heart crushes at the sight of Cregan talking to Lady Alyssane Blackwood.
They’re talking close to each other, closer than they need to be. Not as close as Cregan and you tend to talk, but so close you could know each other's scents and pick them apart.
As to what could have brought them so close, you don’t know, you wouldn’t know either, but you begin to wonder about it. The thoughts are so plaguing that it’s hard to think about anything else but him sharing his warmth with her the same way he would share his warmth with you. You think about him letting her hear him laugh his deep rich laugh that so easily brings a smile to your face. You think about his pale and soft lips belonging to her and no longer letting you be the only person to know how they taste. You think about the tender way he loves even though he has a cold exterior.
You think about him and her and ask yourself why he shouldn’t find his happiness elsewhere? You thought about settling down with someone else if he can no longer find a way to love you, so why shouldn’t he also find his happiness?
He should!
You don’t want him to be happy with anyone else, but he should be happy with someone else who isn’t you if that’s what he wants…
Alas, that’s not what’s important when the time comes to meet up. You had every need to go down to the courtyard and interrupt him and Black Aly, but you controlled your intrusive thoughts and remained with your cousins and the children until it was time to talk to Cregan.
Even then the twisted and jealous part of you expected Black Aly to be at his side, but when he met up with you he came alone.
“Your Grace,” he greets with a bow.
You draw in a small breath and offer him a simple greeting. “Lord Stark, I’m glad you came.”
He scoffs. “Of course, I came. You summoned me, my Queen.”
A warmth unfurls over your cheeks and a smile threatens to spread on your lips, but you manage to keep it away and instead move to the side to point him toward your favorite secret spot. “Walk with me?” You ask and he nods right away, letting you face your sworn protector.
“Stay here, Ser,” you command him, but you see his hesitation right away, making you quickly try and reassure him. “Don't worry, Lord Stark will be my companion, if anything happens he will protect me.”
Ser Cane’s eyes fall on said lord and they turn heavy as he passes him doubt. Not because he doesn’t trust him, but because he’s seen you cry over him and you’re the most important thing to Ser Cane.
“I swear I would never let any harm come to her,” Cregan also assures him. “Rest easy good Ser.”
Ser Cane hesitates some more, but he doesn’t disobey, he steps back and he lets you and Cregan walk off alone, causing tension to fall over you and Cregan as you both take in the fact that you’re alone and no one will be a witness to your conversation. It will be like when you were young and sneaking off to find some discreet place where you wouldn’t be caught.
“Should I expect Lord Kermit to be at the end of this trail, or have him interrupt us?” Cregan breaks the silence to be cheeky.
“Why would he?” You remark and look back at him over your shoulder, catching him looking at you annoyed.
“Because he always seems to be around you…” he mutters and lets his voice get drowned out by the crashing waves that grow louder the further downhill you get.
“No, not true. It only seems that way because you come to find me when we happen to be talking,” you defend yourself right away so he doesn’t get the wrong idea even though yesterday you were making him jealous on purpose—“but we’re not here to talk about him.”
“Good,” Cregan quips, causing the corner of your lips to twitch to a smile that’s fleeting as the weight of why you brought him here grows heavier.
“Why did you bring me all the way out here?” He presses as his eyes wander the sunless horizon and the never-ending sea drifting a cold breeze that adds to the already icy wind—“Is this…the spot you would come to with your husband?”
You scoff and shake your head. “No. Well we would come here together on occasion but this is not our spot, this is my spot. I would come train here with my sword…” you trail off before more memories can come along and dampen the mood you set to ask what you need from him.
“Ah, so this is the spot? Hm. Couldn’t have imagined it any differently.”
You huff at his comment and then proceed to welcome the silence, letting it linger until you finally reach the platform and you’re faced by the mighty sea and a rather white cloudy sky that threatens to drop snow on the dry lands. Behind you is a staircase that leads back to the Red Keep, green hills, and Cregan who soaks in your presence like one would soak the sun in their pores.
There’s no need for the sun when he’s with you though, that much he knows for certain.
As to why you brought him here? He knows that too, but he keeps basking in the sight of you for a moment longer. Besides, you also seem to be in agreement with maintaining the tranquility because you remain unmoving with your eyes focused on the body of water. It’s not until Cregan falls beside you that you break your gaze away from the horizon and slowly look at him with softened eyes already brimming with salty tears, and downturned lips already spilling your plea.
“I know…what my grandfather admitted to was wrong, but Cregan,” you say his name ever so softly, in the way you always say it when you’re aching deeply and want nothing more but his comfort. “You can’t kill him,” you beg. You don’t demand a thing. You beg him.
He hears that clinging onto your shaky voice and drops his head while he mutters your name. “I can’t spare him because of what he means to you. That’s not fair. He’s still a traitor,” he presses. “He should die a traitor's death just like everyone else.”
You nod your head. “I know. I know what he did, but you know what Alyn will do if you kill him. He will bring more war, more blood, and more destruction.”
He swallows thickly and his eyes harden. “There’s worse ways to die. Winter is here,” he insists and you hold his gaze as your mind races with what to say next. A way to get him to agree and not commend someone you love to death.
“If you kill him…you will have to kill me,” you blurt and try to spark a fire in your eyes, but your ferocity at this very moment is nowhere to be found. You’re not mad, you are passionate about saving your grandfather, but right now, with Cregan you feel desperate.
“I was a part of the plan to kill Aegon. I organized the council and plotted and schemed so if you kill my grandfather then you will have to put me to the sword too,” your voice shakes and he looks at you with disbelief as if he was already committing the act.
“No, no, do not say that,” he hisses. “Do not put me in that position because…you know what you are to me,” he finishes off softly, letting you approach him to grab his forearms and bring each other closer.
“I will lay down my life with his,” you press. “People will pay to see it and I…will be better off because of it—”
“Why would you say that?” He cuts you off.
Tears roll down your cheeks and you shrug. “I told you,” you speak softly. “I died with my mother. Aegon took all the meaning from my life.”
Cregan’s eyebrows knit together and his grey eyes glisten. “Am I not meaning enough?” He asks with a vulnerability you take into account.
“You are, but I cannot bring myself to keep dragging you around. You,” you pause and think back to what you saw. “You deserve to have a good life with someone who does not bring so much drama and such a heavy burden of grief. I…I’m broken, Cregan. You deserve someone stronger who doesn’t cry all the time because lately, that’s all I can do. You…”
“I,” he continues for you. “I want you. I have wanted you since the moment we met. The moment you had to leave, and even now. You are not a burden, and your grief is normal after what you went through. I don’t like that you think that way about yourself.”
You look at him with hurt and he brings his hands up to cup your cheeks, making your breath hitch.
“I want you my darling love,” he whispers against your lips. “Say you want me and…I will give you what you want. Say you will marry me at long last and be my wife, and what you want is yours. Come home with me so the gods don’t break us apart again.”
You didn’t confess to actually providing the poison, and maybe he has an idea, or maybe doesn’t. You don’t know and you’ll never know. That’s a secret you’re willing to take to the grave so he’ll continue loving you.
“I want to be your wife,” you assure him and begin to smile through your tears. “I want to go home with you.”
A wobbly grin breaks on his face and he leans in to the point his lips graze against yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. “I will kiss you again when you become mine under the eyes of the old gods.”
You giggle. “Is that so? We do share a child together,” you share teasingly, causing him to gasp and back away to face you with disbelief.
“I will never be truly certain,” you continue sweeter. “And her name will never change for her safety and my own, but Daenerys is yours. I don’t know how it's possible for Daenys to be Aemond’s, and Daenerys to be yours, but I know it in my gut that Daenerys is yours. She has your eyes.”
“She does?” He asks breathlessly, and you nod.
“Grey like a brewing storm.”
He laughs softly and you close the gap between you to press your hands on his chest. “Come meet her tomorrow?”
“Why not tonight?” He asks impatiently.
You sigh. “I need to talk to Baela and Rhaena. I want to get married here so what’s left of my family is present,” you explain. “After that, we can leave. I want to leave. And when we do I won’t be here to be regent, meaning Aegon will be left alone. I need to make sure he’s not left defenseless.”
Cregan hums. “I would offer a longer stay but the longer we do stay, the harder it will be to get home with winter upon us.”
You nod in comprehension since it was already something you expected.
“So it’s fine if we get married here?” You query as you stroke his chest. “I know the Godswood isn’t as beautiful as the one in Winterfell, but is it fine?”
He nods without hesitation and offers you a sly smile. “We’ll have two ceremonies. One here and one at home.”
You smile brightly and he quickly cups your jaw and looks at you with a love-struck gaze. “I missed you,” he says as he admires your smile.
“I missed you too,” you redirect before you wrap your arms around him and pull him for an embrace that he immediately returns, causing tears to come rushing to your eyes.
“Cregan,” you mewl as the weight of comfort hits you. “My mother is gone.”
“I know, my darling love,” he coos against your head. “I know. I’m sorry.”
——
*LATER*
With your grandfather spared, the weight of guilt no longer sits on your shoulders, and the strain of more heartache no longer endangers your heart. There was a threat of war if Cregan harmed your grandfather, but now that's no longer in your midst so everyone can take a deep breath. Only worry lingered as Cregan put the men who helped you get rid of Aegon to the sword, but pleading you to spare their lives is not the same as exposing your part in the entire plan, so you turned a blind eye and watched them die in the evening under the rain.
After that worry still tensed you up as you had to talk to your cousins about leaving everyone and everything behind. And you do wish that your reasons for leaving were as simple as just marrying Cregan and becoming the Lady of Winterfell, but the truth is your reasons for leaving are a bit more selfish than that. That’s why it’s so hard bringing up the matter when it’s just the three of you alone.
Then again it's hard to talk about any matter. There's a lot to talk about but it all seems wrong to bring up, so maybe bringing up your matter to break the silence will be relieving.
“I have to share something,” you finally push yourself to interject and raise your eyes to watch Rhaena stop braiding Baela’s hair.
“In exchange for sparing our grandfather's life today, Cregan told me to marry him.”
A smile quickly pulls on Rhaena’s face but when she doesn’t see you smile her lips slowly begin to droop.
“I obviously agreed not only to spare our grandfather's life but because I do love him,” you pause and Baela presses impatiently.
“But?”
“I’ll be leaving with him back to Winterfell the moment he leaves,” you reveal and swallow back nervously and quickly continue before they can ask the loaded question. “That means leaving Aegon behind and it breaks my heart having to leave him behind, but…I can’t continue living here. Everywhere I look, every corner I find myself to be reminds me of Aemond, and if it’s not him it’s my brothers, and if it’s not them it’s my mother. I'm being tortured every minute of my life and I,” you gasp. “I don't think that I can continue carrying on like this. I can’t,” you breathe out and slap your hands on your thighs. “So I have to leave, I have to abandon my title as regent and I have to abandon Aegon.”
“But,” Baela quickly argues. “Aegon is still a child. He can’t rule yet. Who will rule in his stead until he becomes of age? Who will protect him if not you and your dragon?”
You sigh and mutter your response. “The two of you, or either one of you. You are also Daemon’s daughters, and Rhaena has Morning. You’re strong too, you have the fire to be Regent, don’t underestimate yourselves.”
Baela and Rhaena share a look but you drop your head before you can know what it means.
“I will continue being Aegon’s sister but I can’t be his mother, nor can I be Regent. I…can’t…I’m sorry.”
They respond with silence, making your stomach knit together as you think that they’ll hate you for putting this burden on them, but then the sound of clicking heels echoes in the silence, and when you look up you catch Rhaena approaching you before she throws her arms around you.
“It’s not just your burden to bear, so don’t feel guilty for leaving. We’re here, we will look out after Aegon in your stead because we’re his sisters too,” Rhaena assures you and also seems to be scolding you for thinking so selfishly as if you don’t share Aegon as a brother.
“Yes,” Baela follows along before she walks over and joins you and Rhaena with an embrace. “You can leave the realm to us. We will make sure he’s not picked apart by vultures.”
You scoff lightheartedly and return their hug with more force than the one they’re using. “Thank you,” you offer them softly. “Thank you for understanding.”
“You get married to your barbarian,” Baela teases. “And expand our blood there.”
You giggle and nod. “Yes, yes, I will.”
With that said, with neither of them reprimanding you for leaving, the knot in your stomach comes undone and it doesn’t feel like you’re going to puke or give out with all the weight. You’re put at ease—or you feel as tranquil as you can feel with everything else still tormenting you.
At least you can go on with your wedding without guilt. You acknowledge that leaving Aegon and abandoning your title as Regent is selfish, but you didn't see a future if you went on as you were. It’s depressing to admit, but it’s true. And leaving it all behind won’t heal you, all the pain will follow you, but if you leave there is no endless abyss, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, and perhaps the most selfish reason of them all; Cregan.
After so much yearning there’s finally no obstacles, no other uncle coming in the middle and breaking you apart. At long last you can meet under the great, vibrant Heart Tree and become one.
Getting to that day did take a while, there’s so much to deal with after a war is over, but once The Reach, Casterly Rock, Storm’s End, and Old Town accepted your terms and swore fealty, and once Alyn was no longer a threat, you finally came to the day of your wedding. And given that this will be your third time getting married you shouldn’t be nervous, but fuck, knowing that the man you love is waiting at the other end of that aisle is nerve-wracking.
“Are you ready?” You recognize your grandfather's voice before you see him approaching you—“Third time is the charm right?” He tries to ease your nerves. And you do laugh, but your nerves don’t disappear.
“I’m ready,” you assure him and draw out a deep breath.
Your grandfather reaches you as you stand a few feet away from the Godswood, and looks at you up and down before he parts his lips. “You look absolutely beautiful.”
Your breath catches and your gaze softens. Before you can thank him for the compliment he continues.
“My wish about Aerion being my heir and my ward still stands if that’s what you want.”
You blink in surprise and stand dumbfounded for a moment before you breathe out and nod softly. “Yes, of course. Once he’s old enough I’ll take him to you.”
“Good,” he says quietly. “I’m glad, I thought I had ruined my chance after I stood against you when you needed me the most.”
You gulp a thick lump and then shake your head. “You stood by your morals. I was mad but I can’t blame you. We’re headstrong. That’s how we are as Velaryon’s, right?”
He chuckles and nods. “That’s exactly right. You continue to be headstrong, little siren. Keep fighting. Live your life as you please in the North. It’s what your father and your grandmother would have wanted.”
Tears fill your eyes and you nod in comprehension. “I’ll teach Aerion everything my father taught me about ships and sailing. I’ll teach him everything you taught my father and my father taught me,” you assure him in a shaky voice. “I’ll make it a bit easier on you.”
Tears fill the eyes of the great and fearsome Sea Snake as he nods gently in comprehension. “That would be great.”
You draw in a shaky breath and he points to the Godswood and asks one more time. “Are you ready?”
You draw out a deep breath and let your tears dry out before you agree one more time and make your way to Cregan.
Now every breath and every step that you take brings you closer to him. Bit by bit your thumping heart grows louder in your ears as it beats harder with every ba-dum. Your running breaths grow unsettled as the thought of him unravels your mind, and it feels like you’ll grow mad until at last you enter the Godswood and meet his intense grey eyes under the clear blue winter sky.
He’s so beautiful. So god-like in his best fur, his most expensive leathers, and with that perfectly structured face. Even if you saw him the night before, the very sight of him leaves you swooning as if this is the first time seeing him in your life.
And he could say the same thing about you, but he has so much more to say. His heart almost feels like it stopped the moment his eyes finally find you in your rich long-sleeved grey-white silk dress adorned with beautiful gold designs that match your golden circlet. He swears a Valyrian goddess is walking toward him with the way your cloak shaped like dragon wings embraces you, and the sun seems to shine just for you.
He always knew you were beautiful, more beautiful than anything his eyes have seen, but right now, as you approach him you are truly angelic, divine, and mystical. You are every kind of beauty people use to describe goddesses.
It makes it so easy to get lost in one another when you both think like that about each other. You can’t begin to care about something so mundane as time, what’s surrounding you, and who are all the souls watching your eyes glimmering under the sight of one another because you’re so lost in your own world that none of it matters, just you and him, two hearts and two souls at long last joining together after so much longing.
Now nothing can tear you apart. You are one in it all except in what truly matters, physically, but little by little the barrier of space grows thinner and thinner as you walk to him under the Heart Tree until only thin barriers keep you apart.
“Who comes before the Old Gods this afternoon?” Cregan interjects, sending chills down your spine.
Your grandfather then proceeds to speak your name and hesitates for a second before he continues. “…of the House Velaryon. Whoms here to be wed. A woman grown. True born and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the gods. Who comes to claim her?”
Cregan steps up and bows his head. “Cregan of House Stark. Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. Who gives her?”
You keep your eyes on Cregan and he spares a glance at your grandfather, but he comes back to you as if afraid something will take you out of his sight just as you're mere moments away from becoming man and wife.
“Lord Corlys of House Velaryon, grandfather to the bride,” he gives his response and then turns to face you. “My Queen Regent, will you take this man?”
Your eyes flicker to your grandfather to offer him a sweet smile before you let him go and step forward to give your response without hesitation. “I take this man.”
The corner of Cregan’s lips lift to a blissful smile and you mirror him before you at last break the last barriers of space keeping you apart and join hands.
Once again, even if you have felt his warmth and his hard hands before, feeling them now in this instance feels like the first time. A small shock even passes between your fingers when you touch hands, but it’s quickly forgotten when you walk to the Heart Tree and bow before it.
You are now supposed to bow your heads in submission, but before you can you and Cregan hold each other's gaze and smile at each other before you bow and spend a few more minutes in silence.
When Cregan is done praying, he looks to you, and you look to him and stand back on your feet. He proceeds to let your hand go, welcoming a chilly breeze against your palm so he can grab a fur cloak with his house sigil. He is supposed to take your own maiden's cloak off but since you’re not a maiden, and you were previously married, he doesn’t take anything off. He proceeds to put his cloak over your shoulders, signifying him taking you under his protection and taking you into his family, making you man and wife. You are now one. At long last!
It’s a special moment that will be unforgettable. It’s a joyous moment! Blissful, and almost relieving, like you can finally breathe.
You get drunk off those feelings and live on like that until the moment you reach your new and forever home. Not because you regret marrying Cregan and becoming the Lady of Winterfell. You’ll never regret that. You take in the ancient castle resting just past the snow-covered hill, and you’re hit with a wave of melancholy as you think about everything that happened in the past two years that brought you to this moment.
Astraea is burdened with the same wave of emotions so a melancholy song that’s mistaken for bliss from everyone but you is what welcomes you home.
