Dream Of Winter | C. Stark & H. Targaryen

Lust And Piety

Cregan POV

The northman had enjoyed the moments he and his future bride had stolen in the previous month. His implicit confession at her bedside seemed to have put her more at ease when they were together.

Their official courtship carefully monitored by the whole of King's Landing frustrated them both. So they made use of the secret passages to meet in, well, secret.

Her touches which were so restrained and under the harsh threshold of decorum and her own nature become much freer.

It was worth the weight to have her warm up to him one day at a time. He tried to never invade her personal space or take her hand without her permission. His protection of her boundaries only endeared him to her.

He brought Ragnar with him one night. She asked he meet her by the hulking scull of the Black Dread and like the northern fool he was, he obliged her.

The moon shone beautifully adorning the midnight sky. When she descended the steps to Balerion, the lunar rays reflected on her silver hair at just the right moment.

A maiden blessed by th gods.

He only regained his senses when his direwolf howled at the heavens, seemingly acknowledging his statement.

"Hello, my sweet wolf."

Ragnar received a hug and a flurry of kisses whilst Cregan, the one he thought she addressed, suffered the cold winds of betrayal and heartbreak.

A tad dramatic. But nothing but the truth.

"And my other sweet wolf. Come here."

His disappointment washed away like a sailor on an remote desolate island.

He put his hands on her waist instead of her back. It was instinct not premeditated, but Heleana showed no signs of discomfort. She slowly moved her hand to his cheek.

He didn't dare move lest he break whatever spell had put this into motion. When his princess' hand reached his face and gently traced her delicate fingers across, he damn near closed his eyes.

When she placed her lips over his, his heart naturally left his chest cavity. She experimented in the beginning. Leaving nothing but an innocent peck at first.

Then she grew boulder. Hungrier. When he felt her tongue exploring his mouth he lost all semblance of reason. Soon enough their tongues battled for dominance.

It was by far the most important fight of his life. It mattered not who won or lost. They were not rivals. Merely allied in their relentless pursuit of pleasure.

He's fairly certain he would've pulled away before anything had happened.

A brutish northern pagan he may be. But he's not a fool to cast any doubt on his dragon's virtue. Such things matter here in the southern court.

Alas, he never got the chance to prove his impeccable chivalrous behavior as Ragnar threw him off his betrothed rather forcibly.

Should've kept him in the kennels. Nay, the North. First he tries to unabashedly steal his bride and now gets jealous they're enjoying themselves.

"Puppy, why did you that?"

Heleana ran to his aid and crouched next to him. She massaged his head looking to sooth any injury.

Honestly, Ragnar should hit him more if this is what to be expected every time.

"I'm fine, my love."

Even as he confessed to be healthy, he made no attempt at removing her hands and actually placed his over her face. She blushed a pretty pinkish color. He kissed her again.