Dream Of Winter | C. Stark & H. Targaryen

Howl

A/N: I would like to thank all those who've read and voted. Though more comments would be fun. Anyway, extra long chapter because I'm excited.

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Cregan POV

Another day, another feast. That's what Cregan expected when he woke up that morning. The court had kept the infamous tradition of balls, tourneys and banquets alive even after Viserys had gotten little and less involved in the daily affairs of ruling.

The northman was surprised to say the least when the celebrations scheduled for the week had been canceled. It's a hassle to try and court his intended during the allotted hours, under the watchful gaze of her family and the highorn courtiers. But it's what custom and propriety dictate so he made peace with it.

Now, he'll be lucky if he sees her for barely a few minutes in the next sennight.

After spending a few hours in the training yard, he made his way to the Red Keep's Godswood. A generous term for an embellished garden with but a single weirwood tree. But beggars can't be choosers.

He's heard that the princess Helaena frequents the sacred place and his heart swelled at the thought. So really he's both here to honor his gods and steal a few moments with the woman they placed in his path. Are they fated he wondered. The blood of the Kings of Winter and that of the Dragonlords and the Gardeners. He almost laughs. They couldn't be more different if they tried.

Still, they are promised to one other and he's quite pleased with that arrangement. So his disappointment at not seeing her is genuine.

Finding Bran at the base of the tree is expected however. His cousin has long since held the belief that the Old Gods were the only true deities. The Seven, the Drowned God and others were only false idols, conjured by fools and madmen. He supposed he had more cause to take such a stance than most northerners as a child of greensight.

When Bran had reached his eighth name day, the visions first appeared to him. He thought them mere dreams and shared with his father Lord Uhtred how he saw twin pups coming to their home. When Benjen and Sara were born nine moons later, the Umber lord took very seriously his young son at his word. Both hopeful and cautious he wrote about his predictions. When the white raven came in accordance to Bran's recent vision, the Lord of Last Hearth finally grew certain.

It happened two years prior. Cregan had finally restored Winterfell to rights and happy to host a feast on his uncle's request, he gathered the Northern nobility. Lord Uhtred summoned his son to stand at the middle of the Great Hall and made his announcement.

Brandon Umber, heir to the Last Hearth and the blood of Winterfell was blessed by the gods. He was a greenseer.

The raucous air of merriment turned to shouts of praise and pride as the northmen cheered for his cousin and prayed for his health.

The Warden of the North remembers being so shocked at the news that he almost didn't raise his cup in congratulation.

How could he not be. For the then three-and-ten year old hadn't bonded with a direwolf. Rollo, Rickon Stark's familiar was still unclaimed after Father's death. Moonhowler, his aunt Lyra's red furred bond mate had laid three pups. Ben had claimed the eldest of the litter, the grey and brown striped, green eyed Loki and his twin had been chosen by Valkyrie. A black silent she-wolf with crimson red eyes. The remaing pup, with milk white fur and grey eyes called Frost had been companionless.

Bran was still without a wolf. Not due to fear for few men were braver but he merely stated that his bonded isn't here yet. Perhaps it was a prohecy.