Summery: Cregan has always been a cold man until it comes to you
Disclaimer: I have not seen the second season of HOTD so sorry for any inaccuracies
The first time you meet Lord Cregan Stark, he does not smile.
The Great Hall of Winterfell feels colder than the snow outside its walls, torches flickering against stone as old as the North itself. He stands at the head of the hall tall, broad-shouldered, wrapped in dark furs grey eyes steady and unreadable as they settle on you.
He does not look away.You had expected a monster of ice and iron.Instead, you find something far more dangerous a man who feels deeply and hides it well.
“You will grow used to the cold,” he says at last, voice low and rough as wind over frozen earth.
It is not a question.
Later, when the feast has ended and the castle sleeps, you wander the battlements, breath curling white in the air. The North stretches endless and silent beyond the walls.
“You should not walk alone.”You startle at the sound of him behind you.Cregan does not move like other men. For someone so large, he is impossibly quiet.
“I am not afraid,” you answer, lifting your chin.His gaze sharpens slightly. “You should be.”The words are blunt, but there is no threat in them only truth.He steps closer. The cold wind presses your cloak against you, but when he reaches to steady it, his hand brushes your waist. The contact is brief.
It burns.His fingers are rough, calloused from sword and rein, yet the touch is careful. Controlled.“You do not belong to the South anymore,” he murmurs. “Winterfell is not gentle.”
“And are you?” you ask before you can stop yourself.For a moment, silence.Then his hand tightens just slightly at your waist.“I am not gentle,” he says quietly.
But he does not remove his hand.Snow drifts between you. His breath is warm against your cheek now, his towering frame shielding you from the wind. There is something restrained in him something coiled tight beneath discipline and duty.
“You look at me as if I am made of stone,” he says.“You look at me as if I am something you have already decided to keep.”That does it.
His jaw flexes. His thumb shifts against your side, slow, deliberate. His eyes darken not with softness, but with possession.
“You are under my protection,” he replies.The word carries weight. Protection. Claim. Promise.You test him.“You would protect me from anything? “Anything.”
The wind howls around the battlements. And in that frozen silence, something shifts between you not tender, not sweet.
Intense.
He leans down slow enough that you could step away if you wished.
You don’t.His mouth meets yours like the North itself: cold at first, firm, restrained.Then deeper.He does not rush. He does not devour. He takes.
His hand slides from your waist to your jaw, tilting your head as if he commands even the angle of your breath. The kiss is controlled, measured — but beneath it is heat, fierce and undeniable.
When he finally pulls back, your lips are swollen, your pulse racing.
His forehead rests briefly against yours.
“I am not a warm man,” he murmurs, voice rougher now. “I do not speak pretty words.”
His thumb traces your lower lip once almost thoughtfully.“But what is mine,” he says, eyes locking with yours, “I do not let go.”The North may be cold.But Cregan Stark burns beneath it.
“Mother.” Y/n greeted as she jumped off her dragon having just landed from her ride.
“Y/n.” Rhaenyra greeted her daughter with a smile.
“It’s a lovely day to ride. Isn’t it?” Y/n smiled widely as she walked over towards her mother.
“Indeed it is.” She agreed before her face turned to a solemn grimace. “We need to talk.”
“What about?” Y/n played innocent as if she didn’t have a clue.
“I think you know.” Rhaenyra state’s knowingly.
“Ah the get married talk.” Y/n bit her lip, a sour look coming up on her face.
“You don’t have to get married right away. But look for someone you want to marry. Yes, you do need to do that.” Rhaenyra knew her daughter wanted to be free not tied down so she was expecting some backlash and defiance for wanting her to start thinking about marriage.
“Find someone that would love to control me and keep me locked away?” Y/n asked with narrowed eyes.
“It doesn’t have to be like that.” Rhaenyra tells her with sad eye’s.
“I do not want to lose my freedom. That’s what marriage will get me.” Y/n shook her head.
“If you take the time to find a man that you like and you get to know him you could find one that won’t treat you that way.” Rhaenyra tries to tell her hoping she’d understand that not all relationships have to be that way. She wasn’t all that shocked that her daughter viewed marriage the way she did when she was younger. But it saddened her that Y/n’s view on relationships was so bleak. Her own marriage wasn’t horrible to Laenor and neither was her marriage to Daemon. But Rhaenyra knew that she had been lucky in that department.
“He could lie just to get me to like him and then lock me away after our vows are said.” Y/n told her, it was one of her fears. Being lied to and falling for someone only to marry and then for them to show their colors and control her.
“I won’t let that happen.” Rhaenyra promises her daughter reaching for her shoulders and looking her in the eye’s. But she could tell Y/n didn’t fully believe her and Rhaenyra blamed herself. For staying in King's Landing to long and her seeing such horrible relationships there of all kinds.
Rhaenyra knew Y/n was done talking about this for the time being so with a reminder to wash up before dinner later before leaving back to the castle of DragonStone. Once she got back to her chambers it wasn’t a surprise to her that her husband/uncle was there already.
“How’d it go?” Daemon asked, looking up noticing his wife/niece enter the room.
“She wants nothing to do with looking for a sutor or getting married.” She sighed.
“Did she give a reason?” Daemon questioned knowing Y/n more than likely had a good reason. After all she was the product of him and Rhaenyra before her marriage to Laenor, he and Y/n had a great relationship.
“She doesn’t want to lose her freedom.” Rhaenyra tell’s him, summing up the conversation she had with their daughter.
“She’s exactly like her mother.” Daemon smirked proudly.
Rhaenyra opened her mouth at his statement. “I was-”
“Exactly the same way. But you had a different type of duty to uphold. She doesn’t have to carry the weight of it like you did and because of that we can take our time and so can she. That way we can make sure Y/n doesn’t end up in a loveless marriage.” Daemon interrupted walking over to her and cupping the back of her neck putting their foreheads together. Neither of them planned to let any of their children be in loveless marriages.
“There’s a celebration in a week’s time. Maybe someone there will catch her interest.” She spoke after thinking over his words.
“Hmmhmm.” Daemon hummed but he was convinced his little dragon wouldn’t curve her view that easily. Someone would have to really work for her affections.
^ ^ ^
It was finally the day of the celebration and Rhaenyra and Daemon along with all their children had flown on dragon back to the Red Keep. They weren’t the only ones to travel for the celebration, lords and ladies and others had traveled far for the celebrations.
But Y/n knew the ball being held was also a way to subtly get her introduced to the available men of the realm for potential suitors. Y/n was standing before her mirror looking at herself in the ball gown specifically made for tonight. It was beautiful, Y/n thought.
“Come in.” Y/n called out at the knock on her chamber door.
“You look beautiful.” Rhaenyra smiled at her beautiful daughter as she entered the room and walked over to stand right behind her.
“Thank you.” Y/n looked at her mother in the mirror through their reflections.
“I know you're probably not excited about tonight. But I ask that you at least try.” She pleaded with her hoping she’d at least give it a chance.
“I will try. But no guarantees.” Y/n sighed not really wanting to but she’d try. For her mom she’d try.
“That's all I ask.” Rhaenyra smiled gratefully.
Later at the celebration Daemon had noticed Y/n was trying to just stay in the corner to be unseen. Just observing the ball so he decided to go over to her and talk to her figuring it was the perfect time.
“I see you look so thrilled to be here.” Daemon said as he stood next to his daughter.
“Over the moon.” Y/n said with a flat tone of voice. Both observed the people filling the room.
“I can understand your feelings about this. There warranted. But may I ask you to do something?” He spoke up tilting his head down in her direction.
“Mother already gave me the ‘At least try’ talk.” Y/n rolled her eyes looking back at him.
“I’m not going to tell you to try.” He scoffed.
Y/n furrowed her brow confused. “Then what?”
“I just want to ask you to be nice to the poor bastards that are here to try and woo you.” Daemon sent her a wink followed by a mischievous smile.
“I’ll tell you what I told my mother. I’ll try but there are no guarantees.” Y/n smiled up at him with the same mischief.
“That's my dragon.” Daemon kissed her forehead before giving off in search of his wife/niece.
Y/n was polite to everyone that came over to talk but most seemed to lose interest and leave her be when she showed no interest in fawning all over them. Y/n didn’t mind, she wasn’t going to be something that she’s not.
“You look like you’d rather be anywhere but here.” Cregan Stark leaned down to whisper in her ear from behind.
Y/n turned her head slightly at the voice. It was very close but surprisingly not unwelcome. “You're very observant.”
“Cregan Stark.” He introduced himself as he moved around to stand in front of her and bowed.
“Y/n Targaryen.” She nodded her head in acknowledgment.
“I can tell.” Cregan smiled leaning in closely but not to close to crowd her.
“Oh?” Y/n raised a brow.
“You are glaring daggers. If looks could kill princess, well . . .” He tilted his head teasingly. Which was shocking to anyone that knew the Warden of the North if they saw him. It wasn’t in his nature but for some reason it came easy if the princesses company.
Y/n was intrigued by his playful nature so she turned her body to face him. Both of them are leaning against the wall near them. In their own little bubble they created rather quickly.
“And here I thought I was being subtle.” Y/n answered.
“You mask it pretty well with boredom.” He nodded telling her she was in fact masking it but not from him.
“Oh well that I’m not trying to hide.” She looked him up and down, almost challenging him to change that.
“And why are you so bored and dare I say angry? If I may ask, of course.” Cregan placed a hand on his chest mocking hurt.
“You may Lord Stark.” Y/n was shocked on the inside at his humor and the fact he came up to her and didn’t start off with talking himself up or marriage. He wanted to joke, have a real conversation with her as if they didn’t have titles attached to their names. “This whole night is a set up for me to find potential suitors.”
“And that causes such a reaction?” he questioned with a comically shocked look.
“Yes. I don’t want to find a suitor. That means getting married.” Y/n told him.
“And why do you despise marriage Princess?” Cregan was genuinely wanting to know why she felt so strongly against marriage.
“I don’t want to be locked away and controlled.” Y/n tells him straight.
“And that’s marriage to you?” Cregan wanted to know more. Like ‘Why?’ she felt that way. He knew things were different here than the North, but was it truly that different?
“Its what every man who is vieing for my hand wants. A name, status, and a woman to control and fuck to have their own heirs with. Nothing more. Not a woman with a mind of her own.” Y/n explains to him. She didn’t know why she felt she could tell him anything but he just felt different compared to everyone else.
Cregan nodded understanding her explanation and how true it was unfortunately. “You still want to do the things you love and enjoy. You don’t want to give up being your own person.”
Y/n looked him in the eyes shocked that he got it. “Exactly.”
“I don’t think you're being unreasonable. I think you just don’t wanna be a slave to your future husband.” He shook his head looking her in the eye’s with a kindness no suitor had ever looked at her with.
“That's what they all want. Slave for a wife, who shuts up and pushes out babies.” Y/n let out a sad laugh casting his gaze down.
“Yes, that’s what most of them want.” Cregan agreed but he took another step forward and cupped her cheek. The two were so close their chests were touching. Y/n looked back up and gazed into his eyes. “It’s not what I want.”
“Is that so?” Y/n looked into his eyes, curious but still cautious.
“Why don’t we dance, and talk? That way you can find out.” He held out his free hand as he offered to dance. Something that with anyone else he would not have offered to do.
Y/n thought about it for a moment debating if she truly believed him or not. And she did. Y/n put her hand in his. “Lead the way Lord Stark.”
“As you wish, princess.” Cregan smiled, leading her to the dance floor in the center of the room. Where the two only focused on the other the whole night, laughing and talking the whole time they danced.
“Looks like one man was brave enough to try and get to know her.” Daemon leaned in to speak in Rhaenyra’s ear. The couple knew Y/n was a pure dragon not just in blood but in attitude and it took someone brave to go up and be willing to get to know the sweet girl under the wall’s she had built to others. Of course the man brave enough was a Northern, a Stark no less.
“By the looks of it she seems to enjoy his company.” Rhaenyra smiled at the thought of her daughter having found someone that she’d let in and truly know her. Let someone make her happy in that special way that love can. “Maybe he’s the one.” She looked up to her uncle/husband with hope in her eyes.
“Eh, we’ll see about this.” Daemon smiled but he was also thinking of ways to test the young Stark. Make sure he was good enough for his little dragon.