🐼

the journey north had felt like an execution.

every mile carried you further away from warm stone halls and luxurious flowering gardens, and closer to a kingdom of snow you’d spent your entire childhood mocking.

you’d been promised a great marriage someday by everyone around you. perhaps a prince. perhaps an heir to the Rock’s most strongest allies. someone wise and cultured. someone rich beyond reason.

instead, your father had smiled when he announced you were to wed Lord Cregan Stark of Winterfell.

a wolf.

you ignored your imbecile of a father for days afterwards.

now, winterfell loomed before you, ancient and grey beneath a sky that seemed incapable of producing anything except snow.

you hated the place already.

the gates opened as your wheelhouse approached. a man outside announced your arrival, your face cringing at his obnoxiously loud northern voice.

you climbed down from the wheelhouse without accepting anyones hand, lips curled into a scowl. your eyes swept across the courtyard until they settled upon a man waiting near the steps.

he was taller than any of your cousins or uncles, or any of the men back home, with broad shoulders hidden beneath his thick fur coat and hair dusted with snow. his eyes were gray and calm, simply watching as you stepped closer. not judging, not admiring, just watching.

“my lady,” he breathed as soon as you were near. he calmly introduced himself to you, his voice thick with an accent that was beginning to hurt your ears already. “i hope winterfell will become home to you in time.”

“i should pray not,” you replied harshly, brushing past him before he could answer and ordering for the servants to take you to your chambers.

cregans steward grimaced at your actions, glancing at cregan with alarmed eyes.

“she’ll settle,” he murmured quietly.

you refused to settle.

the wedding came a few days after your arrival, your vows spoken with a clipped tone and furrowed brows. you criticized everything during the feast that came after — the food, the music and the talent of the musicians, the weather, your gown. cregan tried to offer some comfort but was met with an annoyed groan every time he opened his mouth.

after it was all over, you disappeared into your chambers and stayed there for an entire day.

then three days.

three became five.

five became eight.

servants entered with trays and left with the food barely touched. some of the ladies of the castle tried to enter to make conversation, and you sent each one away.

every morning cregan would softly knock on your door and asked if you required anything from him.

every morning you dismissed him.

every evening he sent another warm meal to you.

every evening you barely ate any of it.

on the ninth day, cregan himself came to try to talk to you.

his first two knocks were ignored by you. on the third knock he chose to simply walk in. cregan stepped inside with a tray in his hand. bread, cheese, warm stew.. and even your favorite honey cakes that he’d been told you loved.

“i didn’t ask for your presence,” you snapped as soon as he entered.

“i know.”

“well then leave!”

cregan quietly set down the tray, glancing at you with those grey eyes of his.

“you’ve barely eaten for a week. be angry with me if you wish. starving yourself serves neither of us.”

“i would sooner starve than-”

“call for me once you’ve finished,” he interrupted, your eyebrows furrowing at his rudeness. “there’s more honey cakes in the kitchens, if you’d like some more.”

with that, he turned and left before you could explode on him, a little hurt at how easily you dismissed him.

weeks passed and your temper remained.

you wandered wherever you pleased, not caring about who you disturbed. you ignored your schedules and skipped meals with the household. you ordered servants around as if you were in casterly rock.

one unfortunate maid burst into tears after you screamed at her for giving your gown a simple wrinkle, insulting her intelligence and declaring that every servant in the north was useless.

cregan happened to be passing by your chambers as the girl fled upon your command.

“what’s happened?” he asked as he paused in the doorway of the room.

“i corrected her incompetence, that’s what,” you answered rudely. “it seems that all of your servants are beef witted, nothing at all like the ones back home.”

cregan stared at you incredulously, awed at the hatred you held for everyone.

“no,” he said as he stepped closer, “no, what you’ve done is humiliate someone who’s served this house faithfully since she was a child-”

“oh, spare me the lecture,” you scoffed, giving him an eye roll.

“you will apologize to the woman,” cregan commanded, the wooden floor creaking beneath his boots as he stepped even further inside.

“no, i will not.”

“i was not asking-”

“and i was not agreeing,” you replied, exasperated. you turned to walk away when a firm hand caught your wrist. annoyed, you turned back with your mouth open, ready to spew insults at your husband, only to be met with his once grey and patient eyes now turned cold.

“you’ve mistaken patience for weakness, wife.”

his voice lowered as he spoke.

“so let us correct that misunderstanding now.”

your heart beat a little faster inside your ribs. not from fear, no, but from something stranger that you couldn’t name.

“i am not one of your northern servants to be bossed around,” you hissed, trying to pull your wrist free.

“no,” he agreed, his own fingers tightening around your squirming wrist. “you are lady stark now. which means your conduct reflects upon my house, my people, and me.”

“you may dislike me,” he continued, “you may curse this marriage until your voice grows coarse. you may scream at me every morning and tell me you regret crossing the Neck.”

his gaze held yours steadily.

“but you will not bully those beneath your station simply because you are unhappy. you are clever enough to know the difference, and i expect better of you.”

you parted your lips again to retort, yet no sound came out, your throat dry.

“you will apologize,” he repeated, his brow lifting as anger flashed across your face. “say it. say you’ll apologize.”

“f-fine.”

“i did not hear conviction.”

your cheeks flushed. “fuck- i said fine! i’ll apologize.”

he released your wrist with surprising gentleness. you glared so fiercely at him he thought you might kill him with your eyes alone. then, muttering insults beneath your breath, you stormed after the maid.

something in your behavior shifted after that day. not all at once — you still complained about nearly everything, yet you made an effort to keep your temper in check around the servants.

and not because cregan had managed to make you see the wrongness in your actions, but because you were embarrassed. embarrassed at how cregan handled your behavior. how he made you apologize to a servant. how he had so much power over you. and most of all, how he managed to make you all hot and bothered with your flushed cheeks and racing heart and your aching cunt that throbbed at the mere tone of his voice.

you hated cregan stark. you hated what the north had forced you to become.

no one back home would have humiliated you in such a way. no one would have forced you to apologize to a lowborn girl. no one would have made you change your behavior for servants.

damn you, cregan stark.

cregan had a much easier time correcting your behavior after that. he no longer held back and would no longer let you do as you pleased in his castle. he no longer let you torment the hard working servants because of your own unhappiness.

your first winter in the north was a particularly harsh one. snow fell thick outside, nearly up to your knees. each night you fell asleep with three thick fur blankets and even that was not enough to keep the chill out from your body. cregan had offered to let you move into his own chambers, as they were much warmer and he himself could warm you up during the night, but you refused.

on one cold day, the steward had informed you that winterfells stores would have to be rationed more carefully to get through such a hard season.

you took one glance at the simple supper placed before you and frowned.

“what is this? this is dreadful! we are one of the greatest houses in westeros, and you expect me to eat this? are you not ashamed?”

the steward swallowed nervously, fidgeting with his hands as he bowed to you.

“m-my lady, the stores are plentiful enough, though lord stark wishes everyone to eat alike until spring. the smallfolk have suffered a poor harvest, and-”

“i did not ask about the smallfolk,” you interrupted as you pushed the bowl away like a petulant child, “i asked why i should suffer because of them.”

the man lowered his head once again, reaching for the bowl. “as my lady commands.”

cregan reached the bowl before he could. he had entered without any of you noticing. he picked the bowl back up and placed it in front of you once again.

“you’ll eat, wife,” he said.

you looked up at him with deceiving eyes, eyelashes fluttering in an attempt to seem innocent. “i’ve lost my appetite.”

“i doubt that. now eat.”

his voice left no room for debate. with a loud scoff, you picked up your spoon and ate, refusing to look at cregan.

you found yourself in cregans chambers that night, loud whines and moans falling from your lips as you laid pinned beneath him. you’d come into his chambers to loudly complain about how cold your own were, which had set cregan off since he had quite literally offered to let you sleep in his own for warmth.

“you test me, little lioness,” cregan groaned into your ear, voice low and breathless as he rut into you again and again. “i’ve given you so many chances to behave as the lady winterfell should,” he mumbled, his thrusts growing rougher in frustration.

his hands dug into the flesh of the back of your thighs as he held your legs pinned against your chest, rendering you unable to squirm away from his touch. his cock stretched you past your limits, nearly too much for your cunt to handle. “too much?” he cooed at the sight of tears running down your flushed cheeks.

“n-no,” you cried out, every thrust stealing the air from your lungs. “please.. cregan, harder!”

he, surprisingly, obliged, his movements growing rougher and faster, your body rocking against the bed from the force of his thrusts. your nails dug into the pale skin of his shoulders and cregan knew you were close from the way your moans grew louder and louder.

“bad girls dont always get what they want,” cregan muttered as he slowed his pace, feeling your needy cunt clench around his cock.

“no, no.. cregan, please!” you sobbed, desperately trying to rock your hips against his own, though it was no use as he kept a firm grip on your thighs. “please.. please!”

releasing your legs, cregan leaned down to capture your drooling lips in a kiss before he resumed his movements. he allowed you to wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him closer, as he pounded into your pussy, relishing in how he was able to make you finally shut up for once.

you came with a loud cry, your sloppy cunt pulsing around him as waves of pleasure washed over you, yet cregan refused to relent. he continued to fuck into you, chasing his own release.

“no- too much, cregan!” you whined as you weakly slapped at his chest, hissing and panting in overstimulation.

“take it,” cregan huffed, “maybe this will teach you a lesson, hm?”

it didnt take too long for cregan to find release, his cock throbbing as he emptied himself inside of your womb. he, for all his strength, collapsed on top of you, his weight comforting and his natural body heat warming your very bones. your hands tangled in his hair soothingly, brushing through the strands with a tenderness he didn’t think you were capable of.

he rolled off of you after a few moments, pulling you into his arms and cradling you against his chest. the defiance that roared in you for so long seemed to burn out as you made yourself comfortable against him, replaced by a sense of peace and comfort you hadn’t felt in so long.

“tomorrow we begin anew, dont we, wife?” he murmured against your hair, patting your lower back as you agreed with a hum.