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"Northern wedding"
🕑 Added 2025-08-27 12:24:14 +0000 UTCCh 85- "Northern wedding"
In The Wolfswood
—Before the Gods Snow fell lightly in the clearing, blanketing the earth in hush and stillness. The heart tree stood tall, its red leaves unmoved by the cold. Myrcella Baratheon stood before it, eyes closed, lips slightly parted as she breathed in the cold, pine-soaked air.
Peace.
It was strange, and yet deeply felt. Though the North had once chilled her to the marrow, something about this place now quieted her. The air, once unfriendly, now welcomed her. The old gods didn't speak aloud here, but they breathed all around her.
Behind her, boots crunched on the snow.
"You've blended into the North better than I expected," said Cregan, from just behind the tree line.
She turned, smiling. "It seems your gods are tolerating me." She turned her eyes back toward the tree. "I've stopped feeling the cold here. And the unwelcoming weight I first felt... it's just gone."
He walked to stand beside her, hands behind his back. His voice was soft. "Of course. You're to be Lady of the North now."
They stood in silence for a moment—comfortable, steady.
"We leave in two days," Cregan said eventually. "All the Northern lords have arrived. The march to King's Landing will be long. And loud."
Myrcella turned toward him, sensing a weight behind his words. "You look like you're choking on something. Go ahead. Say it—I didn't know the fearsome Bloody Wolf was shy."
He let out a low breath. "I— I always thought I'd be wed here. Beneath the weirwood. In the woods—not in some sept in the south lit with foreign candles."
Myrcella tilted her head. "So... you want to marry me here? Before we go?"
He gave a cautious nod.
"You do realize that would piss off both my father and mother?" Her eyes narrowed with mock severity.
"I do."
"You're lucky I've come to like you, Cregan Stark."
Before he could reply, she stepped forward and lifted up onto her toes, pressing her lips to his—brief and sure. When she stepped back, her cheeks were pink from more than the cold.
Cregan blinked. "Should I speak to Robb?"
"You'd better," she said. "And good luck. You'll need it."
In the Keep of Winterfell —
That Night the solar was quiet save for the creak of firewood and the sound of Robb Stark pressing his fingers against his temple.
"You're insane, brother," he said finally. "You want to marry the King's daughter—without him present. At Winterfell. On northern soil. With the whole damned court waiting in King's Landing."
Cregan shrugged. "We could do both. One wedding here, another there. A Northern ceremony under the Old Gods, and a Southern one under the King's faith. Myrcella agrees."
Robb looked skyward. "Of course she does. The girl's practically swooning over you. But do you realize what you're asking? The LION and the STAG will lose their minds. The King's daughter wed before her family, beneath a tree instead of in a sept?"
"We're Northerners brother," Cregan said, folding his arms. "Oaths are sworn in the soil where we stand. Let them cry about it in court."
"There are practical issues," Robb pointed out. "No father present to give the bride. That's more than symbolic, Cregan. It's a show of unity."
Cregan just raised his brows. "You're acting Warden of the North. You are protector of the North.She's living in north and your household. It's within your right to give her, technically."
Robb stared.
"You already thought it through, didn't you?"
Cregan smirked. "Would I be your brother if I hadn't?"
Robb groaned and poured himself a drink. "Fine. But who do you propose makes the announcement, then? Half the Northern lords will claw each other to death for the honor to announce a Stark wedding."
Cregan thought a lot and said. "Lord Umber. He raised us when we fostered at Last Hearth and He is your Father in law. No one will question it."
Robb stared long and hard at his brother, then sighed. "You're dragging me into wild waters. You better pray they accept this."
The Great Hall
The lords of the North filled the long wooden hall—banners heavy with frost and hearthsmoke. Mead was passed, hounds lay curled beneath tables, and the chatter of old warriors echoed like drumbeats under the roaring fire.
Robb rose, goblet in hand.
"My lords," he called, voice quiet but commanding. "You've ridden far and stood long beside House Stark. You've seen my brother Cregan return, and with him, the lady who will stand at his side—not as a southern guest for long , but as a Northern Lady."
Heads turned. Myrcella stood beside Cregan now, wrapped in the grey and white of House Stark, her golden hair braided in the northern style. Whispers sped through the room like wildfire on snow.
Robb continued. " We have decided that Cregan of House Stark and Princess Myrcella of House Baratheon will be wed beneath the Old Gods. At Winterfell. Before we ride south for the southern wedding. I as the Acting warden and Protector of North will give her in the wedding."
A great cheer thundered
"Aye". "Aye". "Aye" Northern Lords were exited but quickly turned into chattering rivalries.
Cerwyn: "Then let me announce the vows— Our house was loyal to House Stark. It will an hounor for us."
Old Lord Glover: "Cerwyn, sit down. I've served House Stark for three generations—let me do it."
Before other Lords could say anything
Robb raised his hand, silencing them.
"The honor belongs to Lord Umber," he declared. "He fostered my brother. He was a father figure to him and shaped him .He's my father-in-law. And no one has bled more for House Stark."
Silence. Then nods. Then claps on Lord Umber's back as he stood proudly, flushed with drink and pride.
Lord Umber taller than any men in the room "The pup is going to marry in the north . Of course it would be me to announce the marriage. It would be an honor to House Umber ." He laughed Maniaclly after that .
The godswood of Winterfell was silent, deep in the hour between dusk and moonrise. The snow fell gently, coating every limb, and the heart tree wept slow red tears beneath that pale white sky.
A gathering of lords and ladies stood among carved stones and leaf-strewn ground, cloaked in pelts and furs. No trumpets. No bells. Only pine-scented silence, ancient trees, and the voice of Lord Umber:
"Before the Old Gods and our ancestors who rest beneath these roots, we gather to witness the joining of two houses—one of winter, one of storm."
Cregan and Myrcella stood before the heart tree, hands joined.
"Who come to old gods today to join Thier souls."
Cregan spoke ."Cregan of the House Stark. Proud desandant of First Men and Wolfs , also known as the "Bloody Wolf ". Cregan said following the tradition
Myrcella" Myrcella of House Baratheon. Daughter of the King. Princess of the seven Kingdoms."
Lord Umber "Who gives you Myrcella of House Baratheon."
"I Robb of House Stark gives her as acting Lord Paramount to North."Robb said
"Do you, Cregan Stark, son of Winterfell, take this woman as your wife and become her shield until the annals of winters?"
"I do," Cregan said, loud and clear.
"Do you, Myrcella Baratheon, daughter of storm and crown, take this man as husband—your shelter and sword—until the annals of winters?"
"I do," she answered, firm and unflinching.
Robb stepped forward with a Northern ceremonial blade. He carefully touched it to both of their joined hands—not to draw blood, but to seal their union before gods older than winter.
Lyanna, unable to contain herself, called out:
"Now lift her, Uncle Cregan! Like a true wolf!"
The lords roared with laughter. Everyone goes for feast and dance in the halls.
Everyone enjoyed thier time at the feast.
Then The old nobles began to chant a half-crude bedding song—but Cregan's glare cut them short, and the hall erupted instead in hearty claps, calls for mead, and praise for the new Lady of North.
Lords swept Myrcella into thier arms and carried her through the stone halls, past howling wolves and roaring firelight, to rooms lit with flickering candles and lined in warm fur. Same was being done with Cregan by the Ladies of North.
In the room
Cregan "You look nervous." going close to Myrcella.
"If course I am nervous, it would be my first time ." Myrcella said blushing a little .
"Don't worry I won't hurt you. " Cregan said comforting Myrcella.
"Please be gentle " Myrcella.
Then the bedding continues.
Lords could hear moans of pleasure from Myrcella till half the night then they stopped.
Comments
Cregan Stark
It's not final right now if I am being honest . We will see in the next arc what happens. I have an idea of next arc but it's changing with time so I don't know . I will take a break from this book in a week or two and focus on Artos Stark book. But the fic will be continued after Artos Stark first Arc is completed.
Jordan Belmont
I'll say it again plz don't have cregan ditch the sand snakes. I very much like the idea of the north and dorne being friends and allies. Plus there the only places bastards are still treated with respect. So his children with the snakes can still work with his wife too
