Stranger - hotd

17

Cregan Stark looked every bit a Northernman. He wore dark leather, a thick cloak hung over his shoulders. Made of various furs and held together by leather clasps.

His dark hair matched his attire, and in truth he looked every bit as terrifying as Valaena had expected to feel on her wedding day.

It was dark, as per Northern traditions, she didn't dare avert her gaze, but when she did she felt bits of relief. Her family stood close, as did Cregan's. Not many guests were invited, nor would there be a tourney or large banquet.

The path along the godswood, leading up to the weirwood tree had been littered with little blue forget-me-nots as if someone had plucked them and spread them fresh. She looked up, eyes meeting with those of Cregan. Her heart froze in her chest. He looked rugged, offering her a gentle tug of the eyes, a smile so faint that it made her nearly sigh in relief.

Valaena hardly ever turned to prayer, but she did now, silently begging the gods that he would be kind, and good to her.

Jacaerys squeezed her hand, he too felt nervous. Giving his sister one last affirming nod before they waited in front of the tree. It's leaves red like blood, a crying face carved into it's trunk. It was marvelous, and it echoed with something ancient.

"Who comes? Who comes before the gods?" Cregan Stark's voice was hardh as he spoke the words, his accent thick accent made Valaena shudder. Her hands shook as Jacaerys let go of her arm.

"Princess Valaena of House Velaryon comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble, she comes to beg the blessings of the gods. Who comes to claim her?"

"Me, Cregan of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and warden of the North, I claim her. Who gives her?"

His damned accent filled Valaena's ears, making her hands shake slightly. She tried to calm herself by curling her fingers around the ribbons on her skirts.

"Prince Jacaerys of House Velaryon and House Targaryen, her brother."

Jacaerys spoke well, his voice loud, an edge of pride in his words as he kept his gaze on Cregan, as if to challenge to man to ever dare lay a hand on his sister.

"Princess Valaena, will you take this man?"

Valaena held her breath for her moment, urging herself to speak. She would have to speak.

"I take this man." Her voice was quiet, quieter than she had intended it to be, and with a shuddering breath she stepped forward. To join Cregan Stark underneath the tree. Staring at him as he turned for her. Kneeling in front of the tree. His face towards the tree, eyes closed in prayer. She followed, holding her breath as her knees sunk into the soft grass.

Valaena did not know who to pray to, and in the moment of silence she tried to push away every feeling that swelled in her chest. Hoping instead, begging instead, that he would be kind to her. She didn't know who his gods were, but she tried to, in her silent minds, imagine that the North would welcome her. Asked them to.

Cregan turned to look at her, giving her another nodd. He offered her his hand, and it felt cold in hers as they got up. He remained quiet as he undid the clasp that held her Velaryon cloak together. It fell to the floor with a soft thud, causing her heart to beat faster as he replaced it with the heavy furs he wore around his shoulders. It was heavy on her, and she geimaced under it's weight.

She was now Princess Velaena Stark, Lady of Winterfell. She looked up, carefully as something cold and wet landed on her nose.

Was it raining?

Cregan hadn't kissed her, not like in Southern weddings, where it was quite usual to do so. She turned to look at him, his dark hair now damp due to the soft rain. He reached out his hand, this thumb softly swiping across the bridge of her nose. The waterdrop now gone. Replaced by the warm feel of his calloused hand. She shuddered.