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The Wall
♫- adieu mon homme by pomme
| angst | 967 words | season 1
jon snow x reader
summary: your lover needs to go to the wall to join the night’s watch and you have to say goodbye to each other.
a/n: if you don’t know french, I recommend you to look up for the lyrics of the song because I am pretty sure that it is written for jon snow. anyways enjoy my first fanfiction! ♡
dt: @tacheriepelagie
you were talking with robb in his chambers when you heard a knock at the door. you rushed to open the door, expecting it to be jon. and you were right about it, it was your lover. he was all you ever wanted in a man; kind, caring, intelligent and …handsome. you couldn’t think of being without him in this cruel world that you were all living in. you loved him despite everything .
you comforted him most of the nights because he was receiving a lot of hate from his step-mother for being a bastard. it was not his fault but yet he was suffering because of his father’s decision. it was catelyn stark’s fault too, you thought. and hell, you hated it. you hated the thought of him getting hurt at his step-mother’s worthless words. he was finding love and peace in your touch. the kind that he should have received from his mother. But you two were in love and nothing could’ve come in between you two, right?
‘(y/n), i’ve been lookin’ for you everywhere. i was worried that you were hiding from me.’ he said with a sadness in his eyes. you furrowed your eyebrows at his expression, not knowing the meaning behind them.
‘why would i be hiding from you, jon?’ you asked with curiosity while putting your hands on his chest, to be closer to him. ‘i actually came here, hoping you to be here.’
‘i thought you heard the news.’ he placed his hands on top of yours and sighed.
‘what news?’ you asked, a glimpse of innocence in your eyes.
‘gods…’ he shout his eyes close and gave a little squeeze to your hands before abandoning them. ‘i should leave you two alone.’ said robb while closing the door behind him.
‘i… , i wanted to be the one to tell you, that …i need to leave tomorrow with uncle benjen to go to the wall.’
‘for what?’ you said, couldn’t believe the words that just come out of his mouth.
your lips started to tremble at the thought.
‘to join the night’s watch?’ you mumbled as if saying it louder would have made it more real than you wanted it to be. he nodded, looking in your eyes deeply with the same look when he entered the chambers. you knew it was hurting him too as much as it did to you, if not more.
you felt your legs couldn’t carry you anymore, so you held onto jon.
you were holding him so tight that you never wanted him to go away, that you wanted this all to be a nightmare. jon held you in his arms for a while, not wanting to leave you. those seconds felt like years in your lover’s arms.
‘(y/n), don’t do this, please.’
he looked at you with his brown, loving eyes. it was hurting him to see you this way. But at that moment, he was looking for validation to kiss you one last time. he was eager of your lips, of your taste of apple, cherry and lilacs. you loved those scents; a different yet a beautiful mix.
you were so eager for him too, knowing that this will be your last time, was too much to handle. you just wanted to be in his arms forever, not caring about anything. you knew that probably his step-mother wanted him to go there, to spend his time until his last days on the north of the winterfell without contacting anyone, without fathering no child, without having you. you hated everything in that moment, you thought. but at least you had a chance to say goodbye to jon snow, to the one that you will never forget. the one that you’ll search for in other men.
and with that, you crashed your lips to his. at first you were too hungry, too desperate for each other. it was rough and wild. your eyes were both closed, because you wanted to remember every single part of it in the future. but still, not knowing how to forget this tragic moment.
later on, it became soft and deep. you both wanted to take things slow at one point. he was so sweet and gentle, trying to not hurt you. he felt like if he acts rough, you will crumble into pieces and start to fade away. he never wanted to lose you. but he had to. there was a difference between them and he hoped that you would understand how hard it is for him too -but you already knew it.
then, he paused to take a look at you one last time before he went to his chambers to pack his stuff. but you weren’t ready for him to go yet.
‘please jon.’ you said while being unable to open your eyes for a few moments as if opening them would change the cruel reality.
but... he was already gone, not wanting it to be more painful than it already is. you felt tears falling down your cheeks but you knew how much he loved you and he knew how much you loved him. it was the only thing that you were able to hold on to at that moment.
but your last kiss was very meaningful and it was telling that;
‘this was a goodbye, not a farewell my love.’
Fatherhood.
Single father!Cregan Stark x reader
Summary: the reader comes across a young boy. It seems the boy's worried father becomes quite taken with her.
A/n: He's got cheekbones sharp enough to kill a man 👀
Masterlist
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She gasped when something grabbed her leg.
The lady looked down to see a small boy, no older than two, holding her leg tightly. "Oh."
She ran a hand over the boy's hair as she looked around for someone, anyone in the crowd—his parents or her guard. Neither were in sight, it seemed.
So she managed to pry him away enough to bend down to his level.
"Where are your parents?" She whispered to him.
When he didn't answer, she brushed his hair back from his forehead. "That's alright. We'll find them, yeah? They must be missing you fearsomely. What is your name?"
The boy stared with watery eyes.
"Well," the lady continued, "Will you let me help you?"
The boy managed a nod and accepted the hug she offered him.
She thanked the merchant that she had been speaking to and picked up the boy, now focusing her attention on the people rather than the goods they were selling.
Darkish hair, she assumed from the boy's looks. Someone with blue eyes. Surely he was precious to someone.
"Hey," she lightly reprimanded when he tucked his face into her neck. "I need you to look for them. I don't know what…" Her voice trailed off. The boy was tired and scared and she could hardly blame him.
She roamed the long street once over, just looking for someone that lost their child. A worrisome mother or a stern father. But nothing.
She sighed, rubbing the boy's back, "Father won't like this."
She continued on as before, shopping lightly with the boy in her arms. Her heart was warmed by the soft snores that came from his small body.
She walked down the cobble road, noticing a guard whose eyes lit up at the sight of her. It sent her on edge. She turned the other way.
Another guard was coming from that direction. She froze.
Trying another way, she tried to use the crowd to manage around them, but was met with another guard, quite literally running into him. She backed up in fear, her free hand over the boy's head as if she could protect him.
"Hand over the boy, my lady."
They looked so angry. "N-No." She tried to display confidence but that's hardly was she accomplished. "Whatever the boy did, I can pay for-"
"My lady!" Her guard's voice came through.
Her guard, Ser Marten, pushed through the guards and the crowd that seemed to not even notice the chaos that was happening.
He pulled an arm around her. "Are you alright, my lady?"
She nodded and looked at the other guards. Her eyes flitted down to the sigil that laid on their cloaks.
Stark.
She feared Lord Stark was more cruel than she made him out to be, having three grown men chase down a small boy.
"I won't ask again. Hand over the boy," one of the guards tried again.
"Ser," Ser Marten tried to ease. "Whatever the boy has done can be paid-"
The guard behind her reached out and wrapped a hand around the back of her neck.
Ser Marten's eyes widened, and he pulled his sword from its sheath. "Unhand her."
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" A loud voice echoed through the street.
The crowd practically split in two as the great Lord Cregan Stark ran to them. "Where-" He paused. "You've found him, my lady?"
Her brow furrowed. "W-What?"
"Unhand her and go," Cregan barked at the guards. "And you," he ordered Ser Marten, "Do sheath your sword. I'll not have violence on my streets."
Ser Marten blinked and did as he said.
"You may go as well."
Marten looked between the two, only stepping back at the sight of his lady's nod.
With him gone, she felt vulnerable.
Cregan held his arms out, expecting her to hand him the boy.
She turned away from him out of instinct, shielding the boy. "I-"
He frowned. "My lady." He extended his arms further.
"Whatever he's done, my lord, I can pay for. I am not the richest and I hardly know what House Stark would want, but I can try. Please, don't hurt him."
Cregan's mouth opened in a reaction of shock. He tilted his head. She was more than meets the eye. "My lady, I am only a worried father. Please."
A feeling of embarrassment filled her stomach. "Oh." She pulled the boy out in her arms, seeing that, indeed, the Sigil of house Stark laid on the boy's chest. "Oh, forgive me!"
Cregan took his son with caring hands, careful not to wake him. "Oh, my boy," he sighed as he held him close to his chest. "Gods, I've never felt fear like this." He closed his eyes, not caring if he seemed weak for a moment. He was a terrified father and he wasn't afraid to seem it.
"Do forgive me, my lord. I-I didn't not realize-"
"-You did not realize that you held my future, the future of the North, in your arms?" He let out a breath of a laugh. "I owe you greatly." He looked down at the sigil on her cloak. "Lady Bolton? Are you Lord Bolton's new wife?"
She flushed. "No. NO. I am his daughter." She smoothed down her skirt in embarrassment.
"Ah, forgive me. I thought his second wife was young. Perhaps I was mistaken."
"You weren't," she assured. "She's not much my elder. An honest mistake."
"But you are still of House Bolton? Unmarried, I mean?" He asked.
"Yes, as of the current time, yes."
He nodded with the information. "Strange to see a childless woman with such motherly instincts. He seemed quite content with you."
"He was quite frightened to be alone."
Cregan hummed. "Let me reward you. You've protected my boy and returned him to me."
"No, I couldn't-"
"-Nonsense. It's the very least I could do."
She watched the boy stir in the large man's arms. His tiny hand gripped Cregan's fur cloak tightly, as if finally feeling the full comfort of his home again. "Knowing I've done you a service is gratitude enough for me."
"Please." He looked around. "Are you alone, my lady? Surely I would have heard of Lord Bolton's arrival before this."
She nodded. "I come to the market every few months. This is the only place I've found dried lavender. Father says I have an obsession," she laughs. "Perhaps so. But I'm old enough now of course to journey alone. With my guard."
"And have you found it this time?"
"Hmm?"
"The lavender?"
"Oh. Um," she looks around. "No, I haven't."
Cregan sighs. "That's a shame. Are you sure you won't accept a reward?"
She smiles. "Truly. I am sure." She reached out to brush the boy's hair, but stops herself when she realizes how inappropriate that is now that she knows it's Stark's son. "G'day, Lord Stark."
He stops her before she can turn to leave. "Lady Bolton. Do I get a first name?"
"Y/n."
He repeats it, as if committing it to memory. "Good day, my lady. I won't forget your kindness."
…
Cregan was honest about that. He didn't forget her kindness.
…
"My lady."
Her handmaiden interrupts her quiet time.
"There's a gift for you, my lady."
Her eyes lit up. "What? From who?"
"I'm not sure. Shall I bring it in?"
She nodded and watched the woman disappear for a moment before reappearing with a small cloth sack.
She took the bag with nimble fingers, pulling it open.
Dried Lavender.
A small letter laid inside, sealed with wax, but no sigil.
A small gift to represent my gratitude. - A relieved father
She let out a breath. How thoughtful of him to scour the market for this, even after she was unable to find it.
"Who is it from, my lady?"
"Just a man I helped back in Winterfell."
"Well, how thoughtful."
Yes, she thought, Cregan Stark was quite the thoughtful man.
…
Cregan sat at his council meeting, his boy, Rickon, sitting in his lap, tapping his wooden horse against the table as he played with it. The northern lord hardly noticed the sound at this point, the boy's antics becoming second nature to him.
"I agree, my lord," one of his councilmen spoke, "perhaps that would be best for the North."
A servant interrupted. "Forgive me, my lord. But it's a letter."
Cregan's mind snapped as he looked up. "Is it? Hand it here."
The servant walked it over to him and dismissed himself.
Cregan's fingers brushed over the wax.
The Bolton sigil.
He could practically feel his hands shake as he opened it.
My heart is lightened at the news of your relief. I thank you for your gift. It was more gracious than I fear I deserved. I'll remain in awe of how you managed to find exactly what I had failed to. My house, my father, and I as well, remain loyal to you. - Y/n Bolton
"My lord?" One of the men asked lightly.
Cregan looked up from the letter. "Write urgently to Lord Bolton. I have an offer."
Cregan tutted lightly when Rickon reached out for the letter. "Easy, son. This is your father's keepsake."
…
My dear lady, I fear writing yet another letter to you may be deemed inappropriate to some, but they do not understand the kinship we share. My son grows by the day, and still, I remember the day you and I met so starkly. Take this gift, and dare I ask that you think of me when you wear it. - A content father
The bottom of the letter was all scribbles and scratches from the quill, no doubt something that his son had added. It made her heart warm, like perhaps maybe the babe was trying to say something to her as well.
Her eyes wandered to the dress that he had gifted. A Stark blue. She thought it perhaps a bit too bold for the man, but she wouldn't deny his wishes.
Her father may question it, but he couldn't refuse such a thing.
She took out a quill.
…
I am starting to believe that you have overdone your gratitude. I fear as a young lady, I have not much to give, but perhaps it is true that the thought of a gift is greater than the price or amount of the object itself. I find that this specific type of fabric strips make for wonderful ties for the hair. I mean no harm, but I did notice the way you grew annoyed at the hair in your eyesight when we met. I'm going to send this now before I realize the intent of my actions and grow embarrassed. Do tell your son I enjoyed his drawings per your last letter. - Y/n Bolton
Cregan held the fabric strips in his hand, rubbing the soft material.
How ink on a page could make his heart feel alive, he wasn't sure.
…
Cregan spent the next two days in contemplation.
While he wanted to immediately write her back, he knew that he should wait. The letter to her father surely arrived at that point, and he didn't wish to seem overly hasty.
But when another letter from her arrived, he almost ripped it in earnest to view its contents.
I fear our letters must come to an end. My father had spoken of a marriage proposal and it seems quite unladylike to be writing such letters. Though we two know of our kinship, I fear it is unfair to my future betrothed. Please forgive me, and know that this was not of my choosing. - Y/n
He paused at her lack of a last name.
She wrote as if she had no idea. Her father hadn't told her the entire truth.
He leaned back in his chair and placed his hands over his eyes. He wanted to ease her worries, tell her the truth, but it was not yet his place, and he was to wait for her father's response.
But it ate at him. What if Bolton was truly marrying her to another? It made him sick.
There was a sound in the doorway.
Cregan looked up to see Rickon standing with his toy on ground, obviously fallen from his hand. He smiled at him, "Hello, son."
Rickon took his time leaning down to get his horse, then took steps around the long table until he got to his father.
Cregan waited patiently, not wanting to rush or correct his boy, but once Rickon was close enough, he reached out and held him up in the air. The little son's squeals filled him with joy. He brought him down to kiss the boy's cheek then set him on his lap to face him. "What have you been doing, my boy?"
Rickon set his horse on Cregan's chest, his attention enamored on it.
The lord brushed his son's hair from his face with a longing look. "Think I'll get to hear that voice anytime soon?"
Rickon hit his horse against the man's chest, causing a sigh to come from his father.
"Well, maybe eventually, hm?"
Everything sat in such uncertainty. He only hoped that it all worked out as he had planned it.
........................................
A/n: part two in underway
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farmer!jon snow
He wakes up before the sun, prepares your tea just the way you like it and gets ready for a day of working on the fields and tending to the farm animals. As afternoon rolls around, you prepare lemonade for your hardworking man, walking towards the field with a cold glass of lemonade you stop in your tracks, there he was standing in all his shirtless glory, you watched as sweat rolled down his body and how his skin glistened under the sweltering sun. He gives you a appreciative kiss on your forehead as he takes the glass from you. It was evening now, the familiar pitter patter of ghost’s paws signalled jons arrival, walking to the door to greet him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders you take a big sniff, he smells like soil and his natural scent, it’s intoxicating. You give him a big wet smooch on his lips and tell him to fresh up for dinner.
glad you enjoyed it!
Questioned Morals (II)
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Summary: Ned is in love
Word count: 1.2k
Questioned Morals (I)
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The next day in the morning, Ned wakes up drenched in sweat, his breathing heavy and skin sticky he throws the furs off his body and gets out of the bed and walks towards the window in haste, he opens to let the air cool his flushed skin, he had dream but not just any dream, it was a dream about you a lewd and obscene dream, he shakes his head trying not to think about it, he closes his eyes trying to clear his mind, but the image of you under him skin soft and sweaty flashes in front of him in an attempt to get rid of such thoughts he walks to the table in his room and pours himself a generous serving of wine. The wine was chill and tart soothing his throat as he drank, taking big gulps as if it would wash the dream away, setting down the goblet he concludes that this is all just silly infatuation and that he must be lonely.
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As the day goes on Ned as routine is busy, walking down the hallway lost in his head he does not notice footsteps coming towards him, walking at an unnecessarily fast pace he pauses when he feels someone bump into his shoulder, looking down he notices the fiery red hair that looked so much like Catelyns.
“Sansa”?
“oh? I was just coming to meet you father, I wanted to thank you”-
Ned is half hearing whatever it is that Sansa is saying until your name is uttered, his attention is back on her-
“they are such a sweet person they would make a splendid lady-in-waiting”
You and her lady-in-waiting? When did he approve of that? He revisits the conversation he had with your father and realises when he was spacing out he had agreed to making you a lady-in-waiting for Sansa, his stomach drops and he realises what a grave mistake he has made- what would he do now? you would be around winterfell all the time now.
“Sansa dear, I have to leave now.” It came out more rushed than Ned had wished but he hadn't in him.
He was pacing through the to go to his room once entering, he pours himself a glass of wine and drinks it down in one gulp, exhaling a heavy sigh he thinks back to yesterday he hadn’t heard your voice yet or he did? he can't really remember either way it must be just as sweet as you look, remembering the issue at hand, he pinches the bridge of his nose.
“How could you be so foolish?” He asked himself, this shouldn’t bother him though, you are nearly half his age, he groans out and decides that he should end the day here.
The next morning as Ned was walking past the training grounds, he saw you and Robb talking, smiling like two silly kids, he smiled at the prospect of you and Robb getting married, you had a sweet character and would make an excellent Queen Of the North.
‘What if you were his Queen Of the North?’ he chastises himself for thinking so, you would never even look at him.
As the week progressed you had noticed Ned had been avoiding you, whenever you were in front of him he would turn the other way and rush away and whenever he was in the same room as you, you would always feel his eyes on you but when you looked towards him he would quickly look away, This rather odd.
So you decided to come in his way more, you would look out for him, seek him out in the crowd of furs in the great hall, you deliberately walk past him a little closer than acceptable so he could smell the perfumed oils you put in your bath ‘sandalwood and amber’ noted Ned, you smelled like what he imagined the sun would smell like. Through the entire week Ned had been going through dilemma, the harder he tried to avoid the closer you came, it was as if some unseeable force was pulling you closer to each other, whenever you got too close to Ned he would pray to the gods to give him strength to put his hands around and pull you in, so one night he decided to visit the godswood and plead the gods to put him out of his misery.
One night, sleep was difficult to come so, you decided to take a walk towards the Godswood, wearing one of your heavier furs you leave for the Godswood.
Entering the forest, you saw someone standing, bringing your fur closer to yourself, clearing your throat to get the unknown person’s attention, the person whipping their head to look back at the noise, their hand on the hilt of their sword ready to attack. As your eyes meet you realise it was no one other than The Eddard Stark himself, all of his tall and broad shouldered frame standing right in front you. Recovering from the shock, you ask.
“Is sleep hard to come by, my lord?”
Ned looked like he had seen a ghost-
“I- yes my lady”
There is a pregnant pause between you two, looking at him trying to think of what to say-
“Are you avoiding me?”
You bite your tongue, looking at him with wide eyes.
“I apologise, my lord ‘tis not my-
“You needn’t apologise, you are correct, I have been avoiding”
Ned interrupts you, opening your mouth to say something but you stop yourself.
“I haven’t been avoiding you out of disdain but rather”- Ned pauses not knowing what to say.
“It’s just that” “I” “Uhm” were the only sounds coming out of his mouth for a few seconds, was Ned Stark stuttering.
“I am in love with you.”
That statement takes you aback, ‘in love with you?’ You had always Ned rather attractive, with all his honour and striking northerner features, your father had made you Sansa’s lady-in-waiting with the hopes of a future marriage with one of the Stark boys, preferably Robb, but you never looked at that Robb like that, he was younger than you and rather cocky. Ned on the other hand, was older and had an air about him, something very attractive that just increased tenfold when mixed with the smell of pine and leather.
“You are all I think about, day and night you have occupied my mind”-
Stepping closer to him you put your hand on his shoulder. “You are in love with me?”
Ned sighs out “Yes my lady, I am irrevocably in love with you, and when I tried avoiding you there was some unseeable force pulling us together and I do not think I can do this anymore”-
To pause him from, you cup his face “You do not need an explanation of why you're in love.
“But” you place your lips on his, they were cold and slightly rough and you could taste the wine he had earlier for supper, Ned pauses not knowing what to do, frozen in shock, a few seconds after the shock wears down, he puts his hands on your waist and pulls you closer, kissing you back. After a few seconds you both pull back to catch you breath, you put your hands on his shoulders and he moves his hands to cup you face, as he looks into your eyes, he decides he will start courting you properly and that morals be damned as he pulls you in for another kiss.
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Fin.
Questioned Morals (II)
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Summary: Ned is in love
Word count: 1.2k
Questioned Morals (I)
────୨ৎ────
The next day in the morning, Ned wakes up drenched in sweat, his breathing heavy and skin sticky he throws the furs off his body and gets out of the bed and walks towards the window in haste, he opens to let the air cool his flushed skin, he had dream but not just any dream, it was a dream about you a lewd and obscene dream, he shakes his head trying not to think about it, he closes his eyes trying to clear his mind, but the image of you under him skin soft and sweaty flashes in front of him in an attempt to get rid of such thoughts he walks to the table in his room and pours himself a generous serving of wine. The wine was chill and tart soothing his throat as he drank, taking big gulps as if it would wash the dream away, setting down the goblet he concludes that this is all just silly infatuation and that he must be lonely.
────୨ৎ────
As the day goes on Ned as routine is busy, walking down the hallway lost in his head he does not notice footsteps coming towards him, walking at an unnecessarily fast pace he pauses when he feels someone bump into his shoulder, looking down he notices the fiery red hair that looked so much like Catelyns.
“Sansa”?
“oh? I was just coming to meet you father, I wanted to thank you”-
Ned is half hearing whatever it is that Sansa is saying until your name is uttered, his attention is back on her-
“they are such a sweet person they would make a splendid lady-in-waiting”
You and her lady-in-waiting? When did he approve of that? He revisits the conversation he had with your father and realises when he was spacing out he had agreed to making you a lady-in-waiting for Sansa, his stomach drops and he realises what a grave mistake he has made- what would he do now? you would be around winterfell all the time now.
“Sansa dear, I have to leave now.” It came out more rushed than Ned had wished but he hadn't in him.
He was pacing through the to go to his room once entering, he pours himself a glass of wine and drinks it down in one gulp, exhaling a heavy sigh he thinks back to yesterday he hadn’t heard your voice yet or he did? he can't really remember either way it must be just as sweet as you look, remembering the issue at hand, he pinches the bridge of his nose.
“How could you be so foolish?” He asked himself, this shouldn’t bother him though, you are nearly half his age, he groans out and decides that he should end the day here.
The next morning as Ned was walking past the training grounds, he saw you and Robb talking, smiling like two silly kids, he smiled at the prospect of you and Robb getting married, you had a sweet character and would make an excellent Queen Of the North.
‘What if you were his Queen Of the North?’ he chastises himself for thinking so, you would never even look at him.
As the week progressed you had noticed Ned had been avoiding you, whenever you were in front of him he would turn the other way and rush away and whenever he was in the same room as you, you would always feel his eyes on you but when you looked towards him he would quickly look away, This rather odd.
So you decided to come in his way more, you would look out for him, seek him out in the crowd of furs in the great hall, you deliberately walk past him a little closer than acceptable so he could smell the perfumed oils you put in your bath ‘sandalwood and amber’ noted Ned, you smelled like what he imagined the sun would smell like. Through the entire week Ned had been going through dilemma, the harder he tried to avoid the closer you came, it was as if some unseeable force was pulling you closer to each other, whenever you got too close to Ned he would pray to the gods to give him strength to put his hands around and pull you in, so one night he decided to visit the godswood and plead the gods to put him out of his misery.
One night, sleep was difficult to come so, you decided to take a walk towards the Godswood, wearing one of your heavier furs you leave for the Godswood.
Entering the forest, you saw someone standing, bringing your fur closer to yourself, clearing your throat to get the unknown person’s attention, the person whipping their head to look back at the noise, their hand on the hilt of their sword ready to attack. As your eyes meet you realise it was no one other than The Eddard Stark himself, all of his tall and broad shouldered frame standing right in front you. Recovering from the shock, you ask.
“Is sleep hard to come by, my lord?”
Ned looked like he had seen a ghost-
“I- yes my lady”
There is a pregnant pause between you two, looking at him trying to think of what to say-
“Are you avoiding me?”
You bite your tongue, looking at him with wide eyes.
“I apologise, my lord ‘tis not my-
“You needn’t apologise, you are correct, I have been avoiding”
Ned interrupts you, opening your mouth to say something but you stop yourself.
“I haven’t been avoiding you out of disdain but rather”- Ned pauses not knowing what to say.
“It’s just that” “I” “Uhm” were the only sounds coming out of his mouth for a few seconds, was Ned Stark stuttering.
“I am in love with you.”
That statement takes you aback, ‘in love with you?’ You had always Ned rather attractive, with all his honour and striking northerner features, your father had made you Sansa’s lady-in-waiting with the hopes of a future marriage with one of the Stark boys, preferably Robb, but you never looked at that Robb like that, he was younger than you and rather cocky. Ned on the other hand, was older and had an air about him, something very attractive that just increased tenfold when mixed with the smell of pine and leather.
“You are all I think about, day and night you have occupied my mind”-
Stepping closer to him you put your hand on his shoulder. “You are in love with me?”
Ned sighs out “Yes my lady, I am irrevocably in love with you, and when I tried avoiding you there was some unseeable force pulling us together and I do not think I can do this anymore”-
To pause him from, you cup his face “You do not need an explanation of why you're in love.
“But” you place your lips on his, they were cold and slightly rough and you could taste the wine he had earlier for supper, Ned pauses not knowing what to do, frozen in shock, a few seconds after the shock wears down, he puts his hands on your waist and pulls you closer, kissing you back. After a few seconds you both pull back to catch you breath, you put your hands on his shoulders and he moves his hands to cup you face, as he looks into your eyes, he decides he will start courting you properly and that morals be damned as he pulls you in for another kiss.
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Fin.
Questioned Morals (II)
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Summary: Ned is in love
Word count: 1.2k
Questioned Morals (I)
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The next day in the morning, Ned wakes up drenched in sweat, his breathing heavy and skin sticky he throws the furs off his body and gets out of the bed and walks towards the window in haste, he opens to let the air cool his flushed skin, he had dream but not just any dream, it was a dream about you a lewd and obscene dream, he shakes his head trying not to think about it, he closes his eyes trying to clear his mind, but the image of you under him skin soft and sweaty flashes in front of him in an attempt to get rid of such thoughts he walks to the table in his room and pours himself a generous serving of wine. The wine was chill and tart soothing his throat as he drank, taking big gulps as if it would wash the dream away, setting down the goblet he concludes that this is all just silly infatuation and that he must be lonely.
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As the day goes on Ned as routine is busy, walking down the hallway lost in his head he does not notice footsteps coming towards him, walking at an unnecessarily fast pace he pauses when he feels someone bump into his shoulder, looking down he notices the fiery red hair that looked so much like Catelyns.
“Sansa”?
“oh? I was just coming to meet you father, I wanted to thank you”-
Ned is half hearing whatever it is that Sansa is saying until your name is uttered, his attention is back on her-
“they are such a sweet person they would make a splendid lady-in-waiting”
You and her lady-in-waiting? When did he approve of that? He revisits the conversation he had with your father and realises when he was spacing out he had agreed to making you a lady-in-waiting for Sansa, his stomach drops and he realises what a grave mistake he has made- what would he do now? you would be around winterfell all the time now.
“Sansa dear, I have to leave now.” It came out more rushed than Ned had wished but he hadn't in him.
He was pacing through the to go to his room once entering, he pours himself a glass of wine and drinks it down in one gulp, exhaling a heavy sigh he thinks back to yesterday he hadn’t heard your voice yet or he did? he can't really remember either way it must be just as sweet as you look, remembering the issue at hand, he pinches the bridge of his nose.
“How could you be so foolish?” He asked himself, this shouldn’t bother him though, you are nearly half his age, he groans out and decides that he should end the day here.
The next morning as Ned was walking past the training grounds, he saw you and Robb talking, smiling like two silly kids, he smiled at the prospect of you and Robb getting married, you had a sweet character and would make an excellent Queen Of the North.
‘What if you were his Queen Of the North?’ he chastises himself for thinking so, you would never even look at him.
As the week progressed you had noticed Ned had been avoiding you, whenever you were in front of him he would turn the other way and rush away and whenever he was in the same room as you, you would always feel his eyes on you but when you looked towards him he would quickly look away, This rather odd.
So you decided to come in his way more, you would look out for him, seek him out in the crowd of furs in the great hall, you deliberately walk past him a little closer than acceptable so he could smell the perfumed oils you put in your bath ‘sandalwood and amber’ noted Ned, you smelled like what he imagined the sun would smell like. Through the entire week Ned had been going through dilemma, the harder he tried to avoid the closer you came, it was as if some unseeable force was pulling you closer to each other, whenever you got too close to Ned he would pray to the gods to give him strength to put his hands around and pull you in, so one night he decided to visit the godswood and plead the gods to put him out of his misery.
One night, sleep was difficult to come so, you decided to take a walk towards the Godswood, wearing one of your heavier furs you leave for the Godswood.
Entering the forest, you saw someone standing, bringing your fur closer to yourself, clearing your throat to get the unknown person’s attention, the person whipping their head to look back at the noise, their hand on the hilt of their sword ready to attack. As your eyes meet you realise it was no one other than The Eddard Stark himself, all of his tall and broad shouldered frame standing right in front you. Recovering from the shock, you ask.
“Is sleep hard to come by, my lord?”
Ned looked like he had seen a ghost-
“I- yes my lady”
There is a pregnant pause between you two, looking at him trying to think of what to say-
“Are you avoiding me?”
You bite your tongue, looking at him with wide eyes.
“I apologise, my lord ‘tis not my-
“You needn’t apologise, you are correct, I have been avoiding”
Ned interrupts you, opening your mouth to say something but you stop yourself.
“I haven’t been avoiding you out of disdain but rather”- Ned pauses not knowing what to say.
“It’s just that” “I” “Uhm” were the only sounds coming out of his mouth for a few seconds, was Ned Stark stuttering.
“I am in love with you.”
That statement takes you aback, ‘in love with you?’ You had always Ned rather attractive, with all his honour and striking northerner features, your father had made you Sansa’s lady-in-waiting with the hopes of a future marriage with one of the Stark boys, preferably Robb, but you never looked at that Robb like that, he was younger than you and rather cocky. Ned on the other hand, was older and had an air about him, something very attractive that just increased tenfold when mixed with the smell of pine and leather.
“You are all I think about, day and night you have occupied my mind”-
Stepping closer to him you put your hand on his shoulder. “You are in love with me?”
Ned sighs out “Yes my lady, I am irrevocably in love with you, and when I tried avoiding you there was some unseeable force pulling us together and I do not think I can do this anymore”-
To pause him from, you cup his face “You do not need an explanation of why you're in love.
“But” you place your lips on his, they were cold and slightly rough and you could taste the wine he had earlier for supper, Ned pauses not knowing what to do, frozen in shock, a few seconds after the shock wears down, he puts his hands on your waist and pulls you closer, kissing you back. After a few seconds you both pull back to catch you breath, you put your hands on his shoulders and he moves his hands to cup you face, as he looks into your eyes, he decides he will start courting you properly and that morals be damned as he pulls you in for another kiss.
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Fin.
Stubborn man.
Cregan Stark x wife!reader
Summary: Cregan returns from a hunt, eager to see his wife. But he's hiding something from her.
Warnings: blood, making out, pain, talks about sex, I think that's it?
A/n: Based on an ask!!! Also... I need more Tom Taylor gifs RIGHT NOW or I'll cry. So fancast Cregan might make a comeback in the gifs
Masterlist
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She felt herself flinch when strong hands gripped her waist from behind and a kiss was placed on the back of her neck.
"Did you miss me, my heart?" A deep voice whispered in her ear.
She relaxed at the sound, her body instinctively giving in to the hands that held her, "Quite terribly."
He grinned and playfully nipped at her ear, "Good, because I have as well."
She spun in his hold, now facing him. She ran her hands over his clothed chest and fiddled with his cloak, "The hunt was successful, I assume?"
"Three elks and a boar," he said with a hint of pride, "Should last Winterfell a while enough."
"You're very brave, my lord," she smiled with a teasing tone. "Facing a boar is quite a formidable task."
"Aye," he agrees. "But so is facing the Warden of the North, wouldn't you agree?"
"You're right," She said as he tugged on his cloak to pull his face closer to hers. "The boar didn't stand a chance."
A confident aura overcame the lord and he leaned further down and connected their lips.
She let out a soft groan, savoring the feeling of him after such a long absence.
His arms moved up and around her back to pull her to him.
Her chest collided with his and only then did Cregan falter.
She pulled away, disconnecting their lips as she gave him a small frown. "Cregan?"
His breath had quickened and his face paled, but he was eagerly changing the subject, "I've only missed you is all." He leaned in again.
As his lips brushed hers, she pulled away again as her worry doubled, "Stop. Stop doing that."
"Doing what?"
"Something is clearly bothering you," she pointed out. "Tell me."
His hands wandered up to her biceps, gripping her earnestly, as if trying to convince her, "I am just fine. I only wish to spend time with my wife. Is that a crime?"
"You and I both know it's not, but there's something you're not telling me."
They stared at one another, seeing who would break first. Finally, he did with a sigh. "It is nothing, I assure you."
"You're sure?" She asked in worry.
"I am."
She stared at him for a while before nodding, deciding to believe him. "Very well. I dare say I would enjoy some time with my lord husband as well."
He grinned, "I can arrange that."
She leaned forward and met his lips, hands beginning to wander.
He led her backwards to the bed, careful to not lead her astray. She blindly let him, too caught him in his touch to care where he took her.
She fell onto the bed and Cregan leaned down and began to kiss down her clothed stomach.
"Will you let me indulge in what I've missed?" He asked softly.
She let out a breath at his admission.
Watching her reaction closely, he pulled the skirt of her dress up.
As his fingers grazed her bare thigh, she moaned out, "I don't think I can wait. I need you."
He chuckled, "So eager for me."
She sat up to entice him to loom over her, but she noticed that the color still hadn't returned to his cheeks. "Are you cold?"
He frowned, clearly confused at the question, "What? No."
"You're pale. Cregan, please." She reached under his cloak to his chest.
He reached out to grip her wrists, but it was too late.
Her hands pulled back with red staining her palms. Her eyes widened in horror. "W…What-"
"-Look at me." He grabbed her face with both hands. "I am fine."
"You're hardly-"
His eyes showed the purely determined tone to his voice, "I am fine."
Her breath began to become shorter and her voice softened, "You… you've seen the maester?"
"I don't need the maester. I just need you," he said as he leaned in again.
She turned her head as she denied his wishes. "You're injured."
He sighed and pulled away from her. "It… it is just a scratch."
She stared down at her hands that now had his blood on them. Her fingers were shaky, and her voice was soft, "…you're injured."
He panicked when she began to only repeat her worry. "Dear wife-"
She stood and smoothed her dress out in a rush, "I'll get the maester."
He reached out and grabbed her wrist. His face twisted in a wince when the movement caused pain to shoot through his body.
She paused. "Cregan."
He forced himself to overcome the pain. Determination ran through his eyes as he looked up at her. "I. Am Fine."
She looked at his hand on her wrist, then back to him. "Even wolves show weakness on occasion."
It was clear that he took her words to heart because his eyes softened and his grip on her loosened.
She slowly pulled her hand away and moved to the cabinet, pulling out bandages and cloths
Cregan watched in silence.
She set them onto the bed softly before leaving the room. She returned with a small basin of water. "Undress."
His head tilted. "Alright."
He pulled his cloak off, and only then did she notice how badly he was injured.
His tunic was soaked in blood across his chest.
It felt as if she had been dunked in cold water. Panic settled into her gut.
Cregan reached down to the bottom of the tunic, beginning to slowly peel it away from the injury. It clearly hurt him. His jaw was clenched to the point she worried for his teeth.
"Let me," she offered, pulling it the rest of the way off of him and throwing it to the side.
A long cut ran down his chest, blood staining his skin. Cregan didn't bother to look at it. He kept his eyes on her and her alone.
She forced him to sit on the bed and sat down as well, reaching down to the cut. Her fingers grazed it lightly, earning a hiss from him. "Sorry," she whispered.
He shook his head as he studied her face, "'s fine."
"Get comfortable, my love," she finally forced.
He grunted in acknowledgement and pushed himself against the headboard.
She stood and grabbed the basin, setting it on the nightstand. The woman got up on the bed, throwing her leg over him to straddle him.
If he wasn't in such pain, the night would've went much differently.
She leaned over and wet a cloth, beginning to gently run it over the cut to clean it.
Cregan rested his head back against the headboard. His gaze stayed on her face.
"I don't understand why you didn't say something sooner," she whispered as she focused on healing her husband.
His eyes moved down to her lips, "I've had worse."
"How did it happen?" She pressed down unintentionally, and he hissed again. She muttered an apology.
"The boar," was all he said. He tried to read her expression, but it was hard when she wasn't looking at him. One of his hands moved to her waist.
"Did you face it yourself?" She asked incredulously.
"It caught us off guard is all."
She hummed as she grabbed a new cloth and continued to clean him with gentle hands.
His thumb rubbed across her waist comfortingly. "You're angry."
"Not angry," she sighed. "Only worried." Once the cut was clean, she began to slowly rub the cloth across his shoulders and up his neck, cleaning the dirt from the rest of him.
The feeling made him close his eyes, "I do hope you'll forgive me then."
She shook her head, "You haven't asked for it yet."
He reached up with his free hand and stopped her motions. "Forgive me." His eyes studied her intensely, his voice serious.
She finally let out a sigh and a hint of a smile came to her. "You're a foolish man."
"I am," he admitted.
She took the cloth with one hand and held his chin with the other, cleaning the dirt off of his face. Their proximity brought a soft blush to her cheeks. "I don't know what I would do without you."
His eyes moved to her lips again and he began to slowly lean in. "You don't have to."
"Promise me something," she whispered.
He nodded, "Anything."
"You'll not put your health aside to appear strong to me."
"I am the Warden of the North-"
She leaned away and held his chin in a tight grip. "Not here. You're my husband, Cregan."
A little grin came across his lips. "I promise."
She leaned forward and connected their lips.
His hands found her waist, holding her in a vice grip as he pulled her as close as possible. She was careful to avoid the cut on his chest as her hands wandered over him.
He pulled away and began to trail kisses down her neck, "I'm a blessed man."
She let out a content hum. "Are you? You have a gash in your chest. I hardly see-"
"-I have you." His teeth nipped at a sensitive spot, soothing it with his tongue.
Her eyes began to close in bliss as she gave in to his touch. She caught herself, and forced her eyes open. "I haven't finished bandaging you."
He continued his movements, "You'll have time later."
"If you want anything from me, you must let me finish, you stubborn man."
He pulled away at that to look up and her. "Fierce girl."
She grinned and reached over to the bandages she had gathered. She wrapped them around him, "I forgive you."
His large hand came up to grab her jaw gently and force her to look him in the eye. "I will not take it for granted. Thank you."
"Do this again and I'll gut you myself."
A chuckle came from his throat. "I have no doubts of that." He pulled her face to his and his voice lowered, "I'll have to be extra cautious, won't I?"
"Or perhaps… don't leave at all," her soft voice suggested.
"Oh, my girl," he grinned. "When you finish this bandage, we are not leaving this room for a long while."
A bright red hue came to her cheeks.
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