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Cregan Stark was indeed closer to him in age then to his mother, Jace thought as he jumped of his dragon and approached the Lord, that was coming towards him. A blond woman and a man in tow. The Lord was tall. Very tall. Towering above both his companions like a tree dressed in a mountain of furs and leather. With dark hair braided closely to his head that reminded Jace of his own hair and how un-targaryen it was.
Jace brushed the snow of his coat and straightened his back. There was no time for doubt. He was here as an emissary of his mother and queen. Rhaenyra Targaryen. To forge alliances. Win allies like he had been doing. The Arryns had been easy. He was bound to them by blood through his grandmother, but the Starks were a different story.
It had been snowing constantly since Jace had entered the North. It was a cold land more so than he had expected. As a child he had heard stories of the North. He had been fascinated by the stories of the direwolf and now he saw the Wolf of the North before him. Cregan Stark.
„I am glad that you have reached Winterfell safely my Prince,...“, the man with the grey eyes started, „…but we are short on time. There are preparations to make for the winter is fast approaching. My sister will see you to your chambers.“ With that the Stark turned around and walked back towards Winterfell. Astonished by the Lord’s seaming disinterred in a prince showing up at his doorstep, Jace went after him.
This was defiantly the worst he had been treated by any Lord, but at least the Stark was honest about his intentions towards Jace. There were no fake smiles and back handed compliments on how “strong” he was, but being dismissed like this was almost worse. Like he was not even worth a minute of the Lord’s time.
„Then I will help. Why would I rest when there is work to be done?“ Jace caught up with the tall man. Now that he was closer to the Stark Jace could see that Cregan really was not much older than him. Three years maybe, but he had managed to grow a beard, which was not at all upsetting.
There was a spark of something in the grey eyes of the Stark that Jace could not place, but it did not seem condescending more…surprised? Jace could not tell. Interest? No. It was not the burning gaze he got from Alicent Hightower and the like, but…Jace had no idea.
„Well then, your Grace, who am I to keep you from what you want?“, Cregan said and quickened his step. Making it harder for Jace to keep up. Half of him wanted to run to tempt the Stark into a race show him that he too was fast, but that would be childish, and Jace would not run after Cregan like a dog. He was a prince. He deserved to be treated as such and if he had to earn that from the Stark then he would. If he got a chance for it.
Vermax stayed behind. Curiously eyeing the woman that looked back with just as much interest which brought her a warning from the man beside her, before they followed Jace and Cregan back into the walls of Winterfell.
The courtyard was a bustling mess of people running over each other’s feet. „Are you always this busy this time of year?“, Jace asked pushing past a couple of men carrying chests. „As I said winter is approaching early and one of the sheds collapsed last night under the snow“, Cregan said without looking at Jace. They had long lost the woman and the man that had been accompanying Cregan before and now entered the stables, that were a bit more quiet.
„I hope no one was hurt.“ Cregan turned around surprised, like he did not expect Jace to still be by his side. „Only grain was stored there, still unfortunately. Can you ride?“ Cregan asked, now walking towards the horses. „A horse I mean. I am aware that you can ride a dragon.“ Jace held back a chuckle. Who would have thought that Cregan Stark would be…funny?
„I can.“ „Great. Put this on.“ The Lord threw a cloak over Jace head and continued towards the horses, while Jace wrestled with the heavy fur. Could the Lord be anymore considered?
„You will freeze out here without it. Do you have a sword? A knife?“ „Yes, a sword, my Lord“, Jace managed to say after he had freed himself of the cloak and secured it to not fall off his shoulders. „Take a spear.“ Cregan threw him a spear and then the reins of a brown horse that was as tall as Cregan.
„Where are we going my Lord?“, Jace asked and climbed onto the horse. Letting out a sigh when he got onto the back of the animal without stabbing himself or the horse. „Hunting. I was about to leaf when you arrived. My men are waiting beyond the walls.“ „Then we should not let them wait any longer.“ Jace saw it again. A spark in the grey eyes of the Lord, like lightning in a storm, but still could not make out what it was, and he was desperate to get behind it. What was going on in the brain of the wolf?„Well said my prince.“ And with that Cregan was already out of the stable with Jace right behind him.

Everything had happened so fast that Jace could not even think about that he had no experience with hunting, besides the hunts in the Kingswood, that were more an excuse to drink then real hunts as Daemon had told him once. He had left Vermax just minutes ago and now he was following the Stark and his men into the woods. He did not even have time to discuss the alliance but bringing it up will keeping an eye out for game was probably not the best idea. Dinner would be better.
In the meantime, Jace had time to recall all the things he knew of the Lord. He had won a war against his uncle when he was Jace’s age. And he had also lost a brother and a wife already, the thought alone made Jace feel sick. Losing Lucerys or any one of his siblings? Jace would not know what he would do.
In aw Jace looked on as Cregan lead them to a clearing, where a group of deer were drinking from the stream. He and his men really seemed to be wolves that could smell their pray, because any tracks left by the animals were already covered in snow.
Three men drew their arrows and aimed, waiting for a signal. Cregan signalled Jace and another man to follow him and they made their way closer to the deer, before the Stark gave the signal and the arrows pierced the chests of three stags.
The rest of the animals ran away in fear, but the three wounded stayed behind, like they already knew that they were domed. Cregan and the man next to Jace stepped into the clearing - spears in hand - and Jace followed them as fast as the heavy cloak allowed. Each of them went to one of the stags, leafing the middle one for Jace.
The spear was heavy in his hand as he looked upon the animal. It was beautiful even in death. Brown pelt and a crown that any lord would like on his wall. Jace could see the pain in the eyes of the stag but not fear. The stag had excepted his fate. It was in Jace hand to release the animal from its pain and so he did.
„You are indeed useful.“ Cregan appeared next to Jace as the younger pulled the spear out of the stag’s heart. „My price“, the Stark added, before Jace could correct him, and padded Jace’s shoulder with a hint of a smile on his face before he went to bind the deer’s feet together for easier transport.
„I did not do anything. It was already dying“, Jace replied and tied up the other two huffs with rough nodes. „But you shortened his suffering. Is that nothing?“ Cregan heaved the deer carcass onto the sled they had brought. „I guess it is“, Jace admitted and followed the Lord and his men back to the horses, where they tied the sled to one of the horses and made their way back to Winterfell.
Night had already fallen, when they saw the torches of Winterfell, and Jace was glad for the cloak, since the pale sun seemed to have taken all the warmth out of these lands when it disappeared behind the horizon. They left the horses with Cregan’s men and made their way towards the great hall.
„What is the name of the horse?“, Jace asked desperate to make conversation. „Why is that important my Prince?“, Cregan replied, gaze focused on the people running around. Look at me, Jace thought, but kept his tone polite. „It has done me a great service and I want to reward it tomorrow. After I have rested and maybe warmed up a little.“ Finally Cregan looked at him a smirk on his lips. Almost like a challenge. „It took you longer than I thought to complain about the cold.“ „I am not complaining.“ „You should. My Prince.“
Before Jace could say anything, Cregan opened the doors to the hall and warm air filled Jace’s lungs. He was desperate for a fire and a warm meal, but he had more important matters to attend.
„Lord Stark I am here as an emissary for the queen. Surly you have heard…“ „Yes, I have heard“, Cregan sight and took of his gloves, „And we can talk about that all you want after we had dinner, and your lips are not blue anymore. My prince.“ And with that the Lord disappeared, while Jace reached for his cold lips.
„Your chambers are this way.“ Jace turned around and found the blond woman from before. Cregan’s sister if Jace remembered correctly. Not that he knew of any other Stark than Cregan, but Jace currently more worried about his lips apparently being blue than offending anyone.
The woman led him to his room and assured that she would fetch him when it was time for dinner, before she left. Jace wrapped himself in the furs from his bed and sat in front of the fire until his hands were not stiff anymore. The room was modest. A bed. A chest. A fireplace. Simple and effective. In the chest Jace found warm clothing, which he put on and then left his room looking for the Stark.
Jace did not really have a plan, for where to look for the Lord, but he figured the hall was a good start and he was right. When Jace came down the stairs, he spotted Cregan playing with a child. Rickon Stark. Right. Cregan had a son. The other Stark in Winterfell.
He should leaf, Jace thought as he watched Rickon waddle towards Cregan, who had the biggest, brightest smile on his face that Jace had ever seen. His hair was now free, flowing onto his shoulders in dark curls. The Lord’s presence was less commanding now that he had taken off his furs and was left in a grey shirt with the light of the flames warming his face and weaving through the weak points of his shirt.

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The Prince was in Winterfell and he was quite useful. Killing a stag and almost freezing to death, which was not ideal when war was on the way and Cregan had an oath to uphold. Playing with Rickon always helped him relax. The little rascal was getting big now, Cregan thought and ruffled the already messy locks of his son. Everything was fine as long as he could coo at Rickon, and the boy would howl back like the little wolf that he was.
Cregan had every intention to keep the oath of his father to Queen Rhaenyra, it was just that he also had to worry for his subjects. While he was taking his men to the south to fight a war, his people could die of without him. Sara had been in charge of Winterfell before and done a good job, but that was only when he went to the Wall. A month at most. This war could take years and he had to make sure Winterfell was a ready for Winter as it could be before he left.
A sudden shift in the air made Cregan look up. The Prince stood on the stairs frozen in place. At least his lips were not blue anymore and he was dressed appropriately. „Would your Grace like to join us?“, Cregan asked and looked up to the Prince from his place on the fur in front of the fire. He should not mock the Prince, but was he really?
„I did not want to disturb you, my Lord. I am sure you don’t have much time to spend with your son“, the boy replied. „Yes, being a Lord is quite time consuming, but don’t we have an alliance to forge?“ „In front of you son?“, Jace asked taking a step down the stairs and Cregan knew that he had the Prince hocked. „He won’t remember this, and I have time“, Cregan cooed at Rickon who grabbed his hair, that was now free to fall into his face.
Cregan heard the Prince approach and looked up again. The Prince seemed to be indecisive where he should sit and Cregan nodded towards the fur next to him. „I don’t bite. If not provoked“, Cregan joked to loosen the stiff attitude of the Prince and managed to get a chuckle out of the boy, before he bit onto his lip, which made Cregan’s gaze linger, before he - again - returned to Rickon, who was delighted to have his father’s attention.
However, the Prince did not budge. „Jacaerys Velaryon. Sit. So, I don’t have to look up at you and strain my neck, which wouldn’t be fun for any of us“, Cregan sight. „That is no way to talk to a prince“, Jace replied. „Forgive me, my Prince. I am tired and you standing there is for some reason utterly annoying to me. I hope I am not offending you with admitting this.“ Cregan looked up to see the Prince’s reaction. His neck was really starting to hurt now.
„I take it I am irritating you. I am sorry my Lord. I will leaf.” Jace words were that of a perfect prince, but Cregan could hear the offence the younger took with Cregan’s words.
„No. Please just sit with me and Rickon.“ As if on command Rickon smiled up at the Prince and tilted his head, curiosity shining in his eyes. Rickon seemed to do the trick because the Prince sat down next to him.
The Prince was quiet sticking and - in the warm cloth Sara had put in his camber - he could be mistaken for a man from the north. A thought Cregan immediately wanted to hit himself over the head for. Treasonous thoughts were the last thing he needed. The Prince was a Targaryen by birth. He had a dragon that could burn Cregan alive if he wanted and that was all he needed to know.
„You have come to claim my men as soldiers for your war.“ Cregan rubbed his temples. War was really the last thing they needed right now. This winter was going to be hart. All of them could feel it in their hearts. The gruelling cold seeping into their bones making them brittle.
„And I will give you what I can. We Starks keep our oaths.“ The Prince seemed satisfied with this answer. „But…“, Cregan started. „But the winter came early this year“, Jace finished his sentence. The ambers reflecting in his brown eyes as he looked into the flames. „Yes. My Prince“, Cregan replied a bit thrown off, having expected an indignant response. Complains. Anything but acceptance.
Rickon waddled over to the Prince and almost fell on his face, if not for the Prince catching him and pulling him into his lap. The Prince looked down at Rickon with a surprisingly familiar smile on his face. It was a similar smile to Sara when she played with Rickon, like she had played with Cregan when she was younger.
„I am sorry for my son“, Cregan apologized, but did not have the heart to take Rickon back into his arms when his son was looking up at Jace like he was the morning sun on a clear winter day.
„Oh, it is fine. My siblings are way worse. Quite the messy eaters. The lot of them.“ Jace looked up and met Cregan’s eye. Flames still dancing in his eyes, making Cregan wonder if there really was something in the Targaryen blood that connected them to their dragons. Like the fiery beast waiting outside the walls of Winterfell. The eye contact only broke when Rickon grabbed onto the Prince’s dark hair and drew his attention back to him.
„Oh, you have not seen Rickon eat. We have to change him every time, because for some reason he cannot keep himself clean. A trait I hope he will lose with age, otherwise it is going to be hard to find him a wife“, Cregan joked as he watched on as Jace played with Rickon a familiar warmth spreading in his chest.
„You don’t happen to have any sisters I could welcome into my family.“ It was more of a joke than anything else. Cregan knew that Baela and Rhaena Targaryen were betrothed to the princes. But thankfully the Prince seemed to understand him. „None I can give away. No“, the Prince replied and smiled up at Cregan.
He was about to say something when Sara came down the steps. „Cregan? I can’t find the Prince…“ Bewildered Sara stopped halfway down the stairs. „He is with me and Rickon. No need to worry sister“, Cregan said, picket Rickon out of Jace arms and got up.
„Dinner is ready then?“ „Yes. My Lord.“ Cregan ignore the teasing smile of his sister and turned towards the Prince. „Would you like to join us for dinner my grace?“ „Of course my Lord“, the Prince replied and followed Cregan, who carried Rickon, to the dining hall.
The fires were burning bright and the food was served when they reached the hall. Laughter and the smell of molten wine surrounded them as they made their way towards the high table. Cregan spotted Cerwyn talking to some young man in a corner and shot him a warning look. If he wanted to flirt, he should not do it in front of the Prince. His friend just rolled his eyes and dragged the man away.
Sara stayed behind at the lower tables, while Cregan lead the Prince to his table. “Is she not joining us?”, Jace asked and looked back to Sara as she sat whit her ladies. “Some don’t want to see a Snow and a Prince eat at the same table”, Cregan sight and finally sat down for a meal.
“Snow?”, the Prince asked as he sat down, “So she is not…?” Not the daughter of my mother, Cregan concluded in his head. “No, but that doesn’t matter to me. It only matters to the old men that still hold a torch for my uncle”, he explained and fed Rickon some stew. “She can join us another time. If you stay longer and the people grow more accustomed to a dragon among them, they won’t care who you eat with then.”
“Will you stay longer?”, Cregan asked turning back to the Prince. Trying to contain the hopefulness that for some reason warmed his chest. Jace was not much younger than him. He was a Prince and Cregan a Lord. They were not equals by any means, but Jace was probably the closest Cregan could ever get to a friend that was in a similar predicament as him. Cerwyn was his friend sure, but he was just a man. A good fighter, but a man. He had not been married. He had not buried a father. Jace was betrothed and – if the rumours were true – he had lost both of his fathers in rather rapid succession.
“I have to wait for orders form my queen, but I expect to stay a lest a couple of days”, Jace declared with a smile. “Great.” Cregan filled their cups and pushed one over to Jace. “To the Queen Rheanyra and a successful alliance for the Blacks then”, he said as he and Jace clicked their cubs together. “To our Queen”, Jace agreed.

The next morning a raven arrived. Carrying the Targaryen Sigel and the dark shadow of war and death. Lucerys Velaryon was dead. Slain by his uncle. The first death of a war that would surly take many more.
The Prince greeted him with a smile, that quickly faded. „What is it my Lord?“, the Prince asked. „I have news from your mother.“ „Queen“ did not seem to be the right word now. To formal for mattes of family.
„Lord Stark. What is it?“ The light faded from the prince’s eyes, and he suddenly seemed a lot younger. Cregan saw a spark of himself in the boy, when he realized that his uncle was leading a rebellion against him.
„Your brother, Lucerys, is dead. Killed by your uncle. My condolences my Prince. Your mother wants you to remain in Winterfell until she sends a raven that says otherwise.“ All the colour left Jace’s face, and it was like a ghost had found his way up from the crypts. „I…“ Jace stumbled backwards and held onto the wall. Cregan reached for him, but the Prince slipped way. Disappearing into the corridors of Winterfell.

The dragon Prince was not seen at the meals or the courtyard for 4 days. He did not leaf his room. He did not eat and with every day Cregan’s worry grew. The dragon outside his walls was restless. Flying over the fort now and then startling the people, but at least it meant the prince had not run away.
On the fifth day Cregan had enough. He stormed into the hallway leading to Jace chambers, with Sara trailing after him. „Cregan! Cregan! What are you doing?“, his sister yelled after him.
„I am getting him out of that room! Where he is going to drown in his grief, if I don’t get him out.“ Cregan got to an abrupt halt and turned around to face his sister. „You know how it feels to lose a brother“, he added, and Sara looked down to the floor. „You two have unfortunately a lot in common. Do whatever you want. I can’t stop you anyways. My lord.” The title almost sounded like an insult as she walked away, but he had better thing to do then to reprimand his sister.
Cregan stared at the door of the Prince and contemplated how he should go about this. Sara interfering had been like a bucket of water over the flames of his fury. Breaking the door down, did not seem like such a good idea anymore.
However, Cregan found that there was no force needed to get to Jace. The door was open when Cregan knocked. Concerned Cregan opened the door and found Jace sitting in front of the fire.
„Your Grace, it is time to come out of your room“, Cregan said as he carefully closed the door behind himself. „I don’t want to“, Jace murmured still looking into the fire, as if he would find salvation in the flames.
„You are of no use in this war if you strafe yourself. Can you even remember when you last ate something?“ Jace got up in a blur, threw his blanket off and held his sword to Cregan’s throat, but Cregan could not be conceded about Jace trying to kill him. Jace looked like a ghost. Pale face, dark circles under his eyes that were red from crying and staring into the fire.
„Just leave me be!“ Cregan pushed the sword away and was in front of Jace with one step. „If there is someone who understands how you feel right now, it is me. I have lost my brother. My uncle tried to steal my title and I have lost my father too. If you just stay in here all day, it is not going to get better, and your family needs you. Your Kingdom needs you, Jace!“ Cregan held himself back from grabbing the Prince by his shoulders and just shaking him.
For a moment Cregan thought he had overstepped, as Jace looked up at him with tears glistening in his eyes. The sight alone made Cregan’s hear sink. Jace really looked like a sad pup and who liked to see that?
To Cregan’s surprised Jace pulled him into a bone crushing hug that would have knocked all the air out of his lungs, if Jace was not half starved and probably sleep deprived. The Prince pressed his face into the fur of Cregan’s cloak and - unsure of what to do - Cregan padded Jace’s head, which only made Jace sob harder. Maybe he should have brought Sara. She was much more equipped with dealing with this kind of situation. She had been there for Cregan when their father died after all. But the thought of Jace clinging to Sara instead of him left a sour taste in his mouth.
Jace was surprisingly warm against him. Like there was a fire burning in the Prince’s chest at all times. It seeped into Cregan’s bones and drove away the cold that had made itself at home in his ribs.
“It is my fault.” Jace voice was hoars, like he had been screaming for hours on end. “Don’t say that your Grace. If anything, it is your uncle`s fault”, Cregan tried to reassure him and weaved a hand through the dark locks of the Prince in a soothing manner. “No. I was the one to recommend sending us. I thought…” The words died in the Prince’s throat and Cregan could feel Jace’s shaking in his arms.
“I thought it would show our strength. We have dragons. I just did not think that…”. Whatever he had wanted to say it was drowned out by his own tears. Cregan hugged Jace tighter as the boy sobbed.
What was he supposed to say about that? Jace was wrong to blame himself. It was not his fault. He had the best intentions on sending out dragon’s instead of ravens. It just…It turned out in the worst possible way.
„Come on.“ Cregan padded Jace’s back after the Prince’s heart was not hammering against Cregan’s chest anymore. „Let’s get you some food and then we can go out and hunt some more.“
„I don’t think I would be of much use“, Jace murmured into Cregan’s chest as he clung to the collar of his coat. „Then we just ride. Preferably not a dragon“, Cregan said, which got a chuckle out of Jace. Careful Cregan wrapped his arms around Jace and let the Prince dry his last tears.
„I think a warm meal would be nice“, Jace murmured and took a step back from Cregan, rubbing his dry eyes, like Rickon did when he was tired, and Cregan missed his warmth already.
He lured Jace into the kitchens and gave him a big bowl of soup, which the Prince carefully sipped while Cregan caught him up on what he had missed. Hunters had returned from a long hunt and the snow had worsened.
„Do you have a space where I can put Vermax?“, Jace asked sipping the last remains of his soup. „Leaving him outside in the cold seems a bit harsh”, he added and pushed his empty bowl away. „I guess the crypts would be warmer“, Cregan replied, took Jace’s empty bowl away and refiled their cubs.
„How do we get him down there?“, Jace sight and rubbed his eyes. „Let’s not worry about that now. Oak is waiting for you.“ Confused Jace tiled his head and watched as Cregan emptied his cub at once.
„Who is Oak?“ „Your horse”, Cregan explained, holding back a smile.” You wanted to know its name, remember?“ „Yes, I did.” „Great.“ Cregan stood up and offered the Prince a hand. „Let us go my Prince”, he said and pulled Jace to his feet, determined to bring the fire back into his Prince’s eyes.
They went on a ride through the forest stopping by the ice fishers on their way to bring them some food. Colour returned into the face of the Prince, as he flew through the white forest on the back of his horse. A ride on his dragon would probably also do the trick, but Cregan wanted to spend more time with the Prince.
When they returned to Winterfell in the evening the Prince cheeks were rosy from the cold and his hair dishevelled from the wind. „Will you join me? I am going to spend some time with Rickon before dinner.“ „If I am allowed. Gladly.“ „Rickon has missed you dearly.“ Jace shot him a doubtful look. „How can he miss me? He only met me once.“ „The north remembers.“ The Prince chuckled and followed Cregan into the stable. „Even if they are only two years old?“ „Even then.“

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Lord Stark kept him busy, for which Jace was glad. Between hunting, helping with the preparations and sword fighting in the yard Jace had no time to be sad and in the evening, he was too exhausted or drunk to dream most of the time.
Sometimes the ghosts of dark waters still came for him. Drowning him in waves as tall as the red keep. Dragging him deeper and deeper beneath the waves with a storm raging above him. The phantom glow of lightning barely reaching him as he sank deeper.
Other times he fell through an endless storm. The wind pushing him around like a leaf and the shadow of dragons in the clouds surrounding him. Jace would wake up sweating, still exhausted and the cold creeping into his bones.
Cregan would greet him with a concerned look at breakfast but did not asked questions. Rickon was fast to distract Jace and Cregan started to list their activities for the day.
„So…“, the Lord started one morning over a bowl of porridge. „How do we get your dragon into the crypts?“ „Do you have a sheep and a rope?“, Jace asked looking up from Rickon, who had porridge all over his face. „Some long sticks?“
„Is that what the dragon-keepers use?“, Cregan asked and put his cup down to wipe Rickon’s face. „With the younger dragons yes, but since you don’t speak Valyrian we should opt for the sheep method“, Jace explained as he watched Cregan struggle against a giggling Rickon. He was sure that it would be easier to get Vermax to follow him that he was making it out, but it was fun to teas the Lord.
„You could teach me Valyrian“, Cregan said after he was satisfied – or better given up – and returned to his breakfast now that Rickon’s face was “clean” again. The thought made something in Jace’s stomach stir, but he decided not to entrain the idea of hearing Cregan speak Valyrian, even if Jace was not confident that he would be a good teacher.
„I think practicing your language skills on a dragon would not be the best idea my Lord, but I can still teach you another time“, he assured the Lord. Suddenly nervous Jace pushed his bowl away and looked to Cregan how held his gaze for a second before he looked down at his breakfast again. „You are right your grace. Should I get the sheep?“

Vermax was just on a little clearing not too far from the road. The snow had melted beneath the dragon reviling the dark, frozen earth. Jace greeted the dragon relived to see him again and padded his head. „Hello Vermax.“ The dragon let out a grown and hot air came out of his nostrils, hitting Jace right in the face, but Jace just laughed. The hot breath of the dragon was a welcome reminder of home. A far cry from the cold winds of the North.
It took him a second to realize that Cregan was not behind him anymore. „My Lord?“, he asked and turned around, one hand still on Vermaxe’s neck. He found the Stark standing at the edge of the clearing, the leash of the sheep in hand, looking up at the dragon a bit pale in the face.
„You are afraid“, Jace let out surprised. He thought that nothing could scare the Northman with the grey eyes. „I am not“, Cregan assured him and cleared his throat. „Yes, you are.“ Jace looked at the Lord astonished. „I thought I would never see that.“ It was refreshing to see the Lord nervous for once and being able to read his eyes for once was a welcome change. He almost looked like he was sweating in his furs.
„Well, I am a Northman, and your dragon is a beast of fire. We could not be more different“, Cregan tried to explain himself out of the situation and anxiously changed the leash of the sheep into the other hand, while the sheep itself hide behind his legs, like that would stop Vermax from eating it.
„Are you worried that he is going to burn you?“, Jace asked and padded Vermax’s snout. Cregan’s „No“ was a bit too late and too hesitant for Jace to believe him. It was strange to see the Lord…acting his age. Suddenly Cregan did not seem so intimidating and just like a boy, not much older than Jace. Taller and more handsome than him, but still.
„Don’t worry.“ Jace scratched the place on Vermax’s neck that he knew the dragon liked. „We are fully bonded. He will only burn you if I say so, so let the sheep be. Now come here!“, Jace said and waved the Lord over.
Cautiously Cregan tied the shivering sheep to a baren tree and approached the dragon. Vermax lifted his head and looked at Cregan like he did with a toy determining if it was worth his time.
„Come on.“ Jace grabbed Cregan’s hand to pull him closer and the Lord followed without protest. Cregan’s hand was warm in his – as they had left their gloves in the stables. Jace lead Cregan’s hand to the top of Vermax’s head and tried to ignore his own rapid heartbeat.
Cregan let out a nervous laugh as he padded the dragon, that did not seem to mind the Stark. Jace kept a carefully eye on Vermax as the Stark’s grey eyes wandered to the saddle. „Want to do for a ride?“, Jace asked teasing smile on his lips, even though he already knew the answer. „Absolutely not.“ Jace laughed as Cregan went back to get the sheep.
“How should we go about this?”, Cregan asked as he pick up the frightened sheep whit ease. “He will just follow me”, Jace explained. “Why do we need the sheep then?”, Cregan asked and looked up surprised from the sheep. “Food”, Jace chuckled as he watched the sheep struggling against Cregan’s grip and subsequentially gave up.

Vermax seemed content in the crypts, when they left him again, curling in on himself in one of the corners and shaking of the snow from his scales.
„I just hope your beast doesn’t set Winterfell alight“, Cregan sight as they entered the hall. „I can assure you, my Lord. He won’t.“ „If he does, I will make sure you burn with me. My Prince“, Cregan assured him, but the sound of a smile in his voice betrayed him.
„Are you threatening me Lord Stark?“, Jace joked, sitting down at the table, and filling their cubs in an attempt to distract himself from his nervously shaking hands. The feeling of the Lord’s hand in his still echoed through his body. Rough. Covers in scars. „You have given me no reason to do so“, Cregan replied and took a sip of his drink, catching Jace’s eye over the rim of his cup.
„You have brought the beast into our walls?“ Sara appeared next to Jace seemingly out of nowhere, with Rickon in her arms. Making Jace chock on his wine. She did not seem too pleased about the dragon in the crypts. „The dragon was scaring the animals away“, the Lord replied and padded Jace’s back as the Prince coughed the wine back up. „The hunters were finding less and less game after the dragon arrived. We had to put him somewhere.“ This was news to Jace.
„They did?“ He turned to face the siblings surprised, feeling guilty for making the preparations harder. „Yes, my Prince“, Cregan replied, grey eyes not meeting his anymore, and took Rickon from his sister to put him on his lap.
„Why did you not tell me?“ At the corner of his eye Jace vaguely registered that Sara had left, but way too focused on Cregan to bid her goodbye. „I did not want to bother you, your Grace“, Cregan sight as Rickon unwind one of his braids and giggled excitedly.
„But if you told me earlier, I would have dealt with the situation sooner“, Jace held against Cregan’s words. „I thought you already had enough on your mind.“ Cregan looked up to meet Jace eyes before he freed his hair out of Rickon’s grip.
They sat in quiet for a time just drinking. Now and then people came up to the Lord to talk to him about something. Jace kept his gaze low, and his mouth shut. Shying away every time his and Cregan’s eyes would meet. The black waters started to rise again, flowing out of his cup, filling his lungs.
„My Prince? Jace?“ Suddenly he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of the waves. „Mh? Yes?“ Jace looked up at Cregan. The worry in the Lord’s eyes made Jace feel sick. He did not want Cregan to worry. The Lord had enough things to worry about with the winter and the war. He did not need to worry about Jace too, even if it somehow warmed his heart, to know that Cregan cared for him.
„Come on.“ Cregan gave Rickon back to Sara, who had conveniently reappeared. „Let’s train, before it gets too dark.“ Jace got his cloak back on and hurried after Cregan – saying goodbye to Sara this time – into the courtyard, where some of Cregan’s men were already waiting.
The training was exhausting as always. Not like it had been back in Kingslanding or Dragonstone, where he could defeat Lucerys easily and they would laugh with Joffrey afterwards.
Cregan made it impossible for him to dwell to long on thoughts of his brother as he swung Ice with precision. There was cold control in his step, different from anyone Jace had fought before. Daemon had a fury to him. Same as his uncles back in Kingslanding.
Cregan was like a storm waiting to be unleashed. The thread of lightning striking woven in every step. Like snow piling high on the roofs with which you could never be sure if the roof would collapse, it would just slide right of or it would not move at all.
The worst thing was Jace enjoyed it. He had like training with his brothers, but he loved fighting with Cregan. The look in the Lord’s eyes when he knew he would win, which was almost always the case. It was like the reflection of the silver coins they sometimes found on the shores of Driftmark.
Jace doubted that Cregan had ever left the North. The Lord had probably never seen the shores of anything other than lakes. He had not seen the beauty that could be a storm over Back Water Bay. No. Not storms. No black waters.
Jace rarely defeated Cregan, but every time he got one step closer, blocked an attack, outsmarted the Lord even sometimes and that glint appeared in Cregan’s eyes. Cregan was proud of him, impressed by him. It was exhilarating, that moon like shine in the Stark’s eyes. For the first time Jace felt like he had earned respect. That it was a product of his skill and not his standing.
Afterwards they would return to the hall and drink and eat and laugh. Singing songs of wolfs running through cold winter nights and battles won. Life felt easy and Jace wondered what his life would have been like if was born here in the North as a son of a farmer or hunter. No uncles that killed his brothers. No dragons.
What an absurd idea. Jace could not imagine a life without his dragon. The fire was in his blood. He was the Prince of Dragonstone. Hire to the iron thrown. That was what he was and what he always would be. A prince. He could train with Cregan’s men all he wanted, but he would never be a Northman. His songs were about fire and blood.
Every morning, he expected a raven to call him away. To join the war. Jace wanted to go. He wanted to help his family, but at the same time…What could be the harm in one more day spent with Cregan? Fighting and hunting and drinking. Drowning in silver instead of black.

Chapter Text

Jace swung his training sword at him and Cregan lifted Ice to meet him. Sparks came to live in the Prince’s eyes and Cregan sprung back as he realized that Jace had wanted him to do just that. The Prince may be not as strong as the Northman, but he was faster, full of ambition and well-hidden rage. He would have cut Cregan if he had not stepped back in time.
Instead, the Dragon Prince almost slipped on the ice ground, but Cregan caught him. Steadying him with a strong hand on the Prince’s hip. A mistake. Cregan could feel the heat of Jace’s body thought the furs and it made him wonder what it would be like to touch him, without the layers upon layers of fur and leather separate them. His skin would be soft Cregan was sure of it. Soft and warm and…
„Cregan!“ Sara’s scream freed him from the thoughts of the Dragon Prince, as he was forced to let go of him and turned to his sister. „What is it?“, he asked, blamed his rapid heartbeat on the training and avoiding looking at his Prince. „The Watch caught a deserter“, she answered and Cregan sight. Already knowing what came next.
There had been a couple deserters he had to deal with over his years as Lord. The most annoying thing about it, was that he had to get to the Wall to deal with him and he had to leave Winterfell, Rickon and Sara behind.
The first one was just after Rickon had been born and Arra… He had not wanted to leave, and Sara had called him an idiot at least a dozen times before he left for the Wall. It was his duty to deal with such things and the world did not care for his grief. Cregan had taken three men and made the journey. 19 days to get there and 19 days back. At the end of it he was just glad to be back home and have Rickon in his arms again.
The second time was a couple of month later. This time he had taken more men and supplies and spent two days at the Wall and had overseen some of the recruits. It had been easier to go that time. Rickon was a healthy baby and Cregan had no need to worry about him being taken by the stranger when he came back. This time the Lord had a different worry. That Jace would be gone when he returned.
„Are you going to the Wall?“, Jace asked interest gleaming in his eyes as Cregan stepped back into the hall. „Yes. I will be gone for a while. It takes a long time to get there“, Cregan explained as he warmed his hands at the fire and read the letter Sara had given him at the door. „Your mother will probably have called you back when I return.“
A message from the Lord Commander. The deserter had been on an expedition beyond the Wall and been believed dead until he was detained as he tried to steal a horse from the stables of Castle Black.
„I could come with you“, Jace offered, making Cregan look up from the paper. „But what if your Queen calls you back?“ „War can wait a little longer“, Jace said as he met Cregan’s eyes. „I want to see the Wall“, the Prince explained, „I have read about it and…Shouldn’t a Prince know all his lands? My uncle cannot claim that he has seen all of the lands he wants to rule.“ So much was true, Cregan had to give him that.
„It is a hard and long journey“, Cregan replied in a weak attempt to convince the Prince and himself, that he knew only meet deaf ears. Once Jace wanted something he usually did it. Expect for defeating Cregan in training maybe.
„So is flying on a dragon“, Jace replied sheepish smile on his lips. „I can also stay. If you don’t want my company on the journey my Lord“, he added and turned towards the fire. „That is not…“, Cregan stopped himself before he said something he might regret.
„It is not that I don’t enjoy your company my Prince“, he said, threw the letter in the flames and watched it fall to ashes like his resistance to Jace’s charms. „I am just worried that you will freeze up there. It would not look good, if the hire to the Iron Thrown died, because I could not refuse him.“ It was true. Cregan could never refuse Jace, which was dangerous for both of them. The desire to please his Prince made him soft and blind.
„The Stranger will sooner taste my blade than take me“, Jace replied with a sad chuckle, that Cregan did not believe was real. He remembered the cold nights on his first journey to the Wall. Half of him had begged the old gods to take him so he could see Arra again. Maybe it was the same with Jace. Maybe he wanted to see his brother again in the cold embrace of a northern night.
„The Stranger will have to get past my blade first before he meets yours“, Cregan replied and Jace gave him a warm smile, that chased the cold out of Cregan’s bones. „We ride tomorrow“, Cregan said and Jace smile widened.

They rode with a pack horse and two of Cregan’s men. Cerwyn and Corbin. As a smaller party they would be faster. They made good progress on the first 13 days but on the fourteenth day they were awoken by heavy snowfall. Sure, the journey had been everything but easy, but at least the weather had been mild and Jace could keep up with them with relative ease.
Sometimes they would hear Vermax in the distance. The beast had followed them despised the fact that it got colder and colder as they went further north. Maybe it had to stay by Jace’s side, Cregan thought as he looked up at the thick snowflakes painting the shy white. Like a loyal dog. What was a dragon but not a loyal beast.
„Let’s make hast. There is an inn, just two days away“, Cregan said and looked at the heavy snow blanket that covered the top of his and Jace’s tent. „We can wait the storm out there.“ „If we don’t freeze in the meantime“, Cerwyn murmured which got him a stern look from Cregan.
They broke camp and went on their way. Corbin, who had the rains of the pack horse in hand, and Jace rode in the back while Cregan and Cerwyn with their bigger horses carved a path through the fresh snow.
„Your Prince is going to die out here“, Cerwyn said as he looked up to the branches of the evergreens above them that bent under the weight of the snow. „I won’t let that happen“, Cregan replied and urged his horse forward. „You like him, don’t you?“, Cerwyn asked. A knowing smile on his lips.
Cerwyn had been Cregan’s friend for such a long time, that Cregan could not even remember when they met. He just had always been there. A good fighter with a talent for acquiring secrets he was not supposed to know.
„Not more than any other man that I would call friend“, Cregan replied and rippled a bundle of ice out of his collar hoping to sound casual. „Friends? If you say that my Lord“, Cerwyn replied, „But if a Prince were my friend, I would not lead him to this death. Don’t you think he should return to Winterfell?“ If Cregan had his way the Prince would not even be here, but his heart would not allow it. „He would never agree to that.“ „So what“, Cerwyn replied, „He may be a Prince but you are the Lord here. Send him back. Why is he here anyways?“ „It is hard to refuse him“, Cregan admitted and let himself fall back to the other two, ending the conversation.
„My horse is tired“, he said and held out a hand to Corbin, who gave him the rains of the pack horse and made his way to Cerwyn’s side without a word.
„How are you?“, Cregan turned to Jace. The Prince was holding up quite well even though he was as covered in snow as much as the other men. „Cold“, Jace replied. His breath dancing around him in soft clouds. Cregan suppressed his laughter at his Prince’s reply.
„Tell me if you have the sudden urge to rip your cloth of. That is a sure thing that you are going to die“, Cregan informed the Prince which got him a surprised look from Jace. „Why would someone take their cloth off if they are freezing?“ Cregan just shrugged.
„We will probably have to make camp in 2 hours or so“, the Lord said after a while of them riding in silence with nothing but the howling wind as their companion. „Then tomorrow we ride to the inn and try to sit out this storm.“ „If we don’t freeze tonight“, Jace added and padded Oak’s neck.
„The horses will be fine“, Cregan assured him, „And we will survive this too. I have seen worse.“ „Well maybe you have, but I haven’t“, Jace replied, „How can anything even survive out here?“ „You get used to it“, Cregan shrugged. He did not want to frighten the Prince, but this was bad. Sure. They would be fine if…IF they made it to the inn, but for that they had to survive this night.
„Are you already regretting coming with me, my Prince?“, Cregan asked in an attempt to be humorous. „Maybe“, Jace shivered, but Cregan could hear the smile in his voice, even if he could not see it behind the high fur-collar of Jace’s cloak.
The Prince leaned over to him and whispered into his ear: “But I would regret it even more having heard you froze out here without me.” His warm breath brushing against Cregan’s cheer as he drew back, like the touch of a ghost. Cregan forced himself to smile at the jest even so it made his heart twist in his chest.

A couple of hours later they made camp under an overhanging cliff that protected them from the sharp wind and the snow. Cregan and Jace took the first watch while Corbin and Cerwyn slept.
While Cregan nursed the fire Jace checked up on the horses now and then. The animals were crowed together near the cliff, where they were the most protected of the wind and snow.
„How are they?“, Cregan asked, when Jace returned. „They are still alive“, the Prince sight and sat down next to Cregan. „That is good. Riding double in this weather sounds like a nightmare“, Cregan replied and added a log to the fire.
Jace nodded and took a worried look to the sky. „Do you worry about Vermax?“, Cregan asked and turned to his friend that had his cloak wrapped tightly around himself. After they had reached camp they had tried in a weak attempt to get the snow of their cloaks, but they still all looked like frozen bears in their white dusted furs and leathers.
„He is a dragon. He will be fine“, Jace said and sounded more like he wanted to convince himself then Cregan. „He would centrally be useful“, Cregan sight and pocked the fire. „A fire breathing beast would really be useful“, Jace agreed and Cregan could feel his friend shivering next to him.
Cregan open his cloak – before he could stop himself – and gave Jace an inviting nod. „Come here. I can’t see you shivering like not do anything about it.“ Jace looked up to him with hesitation, but in the end the promise of warmth won.
Jace wrapped his arms around Cregan’s torso and making Cregan’s heartbeat speeding up in the prosses. Cregan closed the cloak around them while the Prince rested his head on Cregan’s shoulder and let out a tired breath. „You can sleep if you want to“, Cregan said and wrapped an arm around Jace’s waist to draw him even closer to aid in warming the Prince. Not at all because he wanted to feel his warmth again like in the training-yard in the morning.
„But we are supposed to keep watch“, Jace disagreed and lifted his head from Cregan’s shoulder. „And what happens if you fall asleep too?“ „I won’t“, Cregan assured him and met Jace’s eyes. The reflection of the fire dancing inside of them like there was a fire raging inside of the Prince. Cregan certainly felt like there was. Jace was warm against his side, despite what his shivering body would tell you. Even threw his leathers the Prince seemed to burn as bright as the fire in Winterfell’s hall.
When Cregan realized that he was staring he turned back to the fire. „You really can sleep. I don’t mind and if at least one of us is well rested tomorrow, it will benefit all of us.“ „Alright“, Jace agreed and rested his head on Cregan’s shoulder again.
It did not take long for Jace breath to even out and he stopped shivering. Like a little pub he clung to Cregan, like Rickon sometimes did, when the nights were particularly cold. However, this was not Rickon. This was the Prince of Dragonstone. Hire to the iron thrown. And a very beautiful human being. If it was not so dame cold Cregan would certainly a problem on his hand, but at the moment he only had to worry about the fire not going out and attempting to push the thought away how perfect Jace fit against him. How his hands clung to the side of his body and fire warmed Cregan to the bone.
When Corbin and Cerwyn came to relive them from their watch Cerwyn gave Cregan as sly smile when he woke Jace up and practically had to peal the still tired Prince of him. „I hope you freeze“, Cregan murmured under his breath as he walked Jace, who blinked himself awake, past Cerwyn, who broke out into laughter.
In the tent they lay down on the bedrolls, that the other two man had already pushed together, and they took of their cloaks. Jace pulled Cregan closed again. Burring his head in Cregan’s neck and making the Lord’s breath hitch as Cregan drew the furs around them. Hoping that his heart was only hammering in his ears and Jace could not actually hear it.
„You are warm“, Cregan said for a lack to say anything else as he carefully put an arm around Jace again. „And you are tall. Tell me something I don’t know“, Jace murmured sleepy and shifted in Cregan’s arms, where he fit so perfectly.
Cregan chuckled praying to the old gods that he would not embarrass himself in the morning. „Good night Jace.“ „Good night Cregan“, Jace replied fell asleep almost instantly. Cregan allowed himself to look down at his Prince and admire him for just a second. His dark curls and the soft smile on his lips as he lay in Cregan’s arms. He committed it all to memory before he closed his eyes and flowed Jace into the land of dreams.

Cregan did not embarrass himself in the morning. He awoke to Jace already outside the tent chatting with Cerwyn and Corbin and feeding the horses. They made it to the inn in no time and sat the storm out for three days, before they went on their way again.

Chapter Text

Castle Black was not as Jace expected. It was not really a castle for it did not have any form of defense. Just a cluster of half broken towers and smaller buildings cowering in the shadow of the Wall. Ice reaching up so far that it seemed to never end.
„Lord Cregan“, a man dressed in all black greeted them in the yard, „You brought more men than I had expected.“ The man gave Jace a once over, as if he was assessing him. „This is Prince Jacaerys Targaryen. Prince of Dragonstone. Hire of the Iron Throne.“ Hearing Cregan call him Jacaerys felt strange, for he called him Jace or „My Prince“, which made Jace’s heart stumble, which Jace tried - but failed - to ignore every time.
„My Prince“, the man lowered his head, „I am Robin Stone Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. We are surprised to see you so far up North.“ Stone. A bastard name. „I was at Winterfell when your raven arrived, and I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see the Wall. My Family has not visited in a while, and I thought it would be good to see how everything is going up here.“ That was only half true.
Sure, it would look good politically to show his face at the wall and in general looking how things were going up here, assessing if more aid was needed was crucial for the protection from threats beyond the Wall, but…The thought alone of staying at Winterfell and having to leave before Cregan returned made Jace’s heart twist in his chest.
„I am sure you are a capable Commander and I am not here to tell you how to do things“, Jace assured the Commander and climbed off of Oak’s back. „I am just here to see if I can send some help when I am back at the Queens side. Coin. Men.“ The Commander visibly relaxed. Robin Stone had brown hair and eyes - much like Jace - but he was much older. Ten years or so. Three white lines reached up his neck onto his cheek, like a raven had tried to ripp his throat open.
„We can talke of this later“, Cregan chimed in and climbed of his horse, „Where is the deserter?“ „This way.“ Cerwyn and Corbin stayed back with the horses while Jace followed the other two men into one of the towers.
The deserter was not more than a boy. Younger than Jace with blond hair. He sat in the corner of his cold cell. Shivering like a leaf in the cold wind of the north. „We will take care of him tomorrow“, Cregan said after he had take a quick look at the boy and turned back towards the yard. „My men, my Prince and I are hungry“, he added and Robin and Jace were fast to follow him.

Crows nested in the rafters of the of the common hall. As Cregan and Jace sat at the Commander’s table with Corbin and Cerwyn Jace could feel the other men’s eyes on him or Cregan, but probably him.
There were so many boys here that looked like him. The dark hair and eyes of the first men. Of his father. He could as well be one of them. A bastard of some nobel house. The only reason he was a prince and not a brother of the night’s watch or some sellsword or hedge knight was that his mother was the Queen. It was just like in King’s landing. Jace had pretended that he did not care. For Luke. For Joff. If he wasn’t questioned, they weren’t questioned. In the end he had not been good enough, but it had not ended good for Sir Vaemond either.
„Excuse me my Lords.“ Jace stood up. „I am tired from the journey.“ „Good night, Prince Jacaerys“, the Commander replied with a short bow. Cerwyn gave him a nod and Corbin lifted his hand. „I will come with you. I am tired too.“ Cregan stood up too. „Good night my friends”, Cregan said and was right behind Jace was he walked out of the hall, the eyes of the black brother pricing his back like arrows.
Their rooms were in one of the towers - not the one with the deserter. Even when walking across the yard Jace could still feel the eyes on him. It really was just like in King’s Landing. Dragonstone had spoiled him.
„Is it bothering you?“, Cregan asked leaning over to Jace as he caught up with him. „What should be bothering me?“, Jace replied as they made their way up the icy stairs. „They will get tiered of watching“, Cregan assured him, „You are just the interesting new thing. You don’t get to see a Prince every day.“
„But that is not why their looking“, Jace sight before he could stopped himself. Now Cregan would not let this go. „What do you mean? Did anyone say anything?“ „No. No-one said anything.“ They did not have to. „Forget that I said that. Good night Cregan.“
Jace turned around to flee into his room, but Cregan held onto his arm. The cold material of his gloves sliding over the thick fabric of Jace’s doublet, but still…a simple touch made his breath hitch. Jace had to get it together. This was not the time! They were still in the middle of the yard.
„Jace? What is going on? I can see it working in your head. Just tell me.“ The worry in Cregan’s grey eyes made it impossible for Jace to refuse him. „Please“, the Lord added and Jace took a quick look around. Here were just too many people around. Now the looks were different. The sort that his father, Laenor, would get.
Jace pulled away from Cregan. The hand of the Lord slipping of his arm and taking the spark with him that hat sprung to light in Jace’s heart. „Not here“, he whispered and signaled Cregan to follow him.
„What is going on Jace?“, Cregan asked and closed the door of Jace’s room behind himself as Jace had threw a couple of logs into the fire. „They think that I could be one of them.” Jace turned around to see Cregan’s reaction, but the Lord’s face was as unreadable as ever. A storm brewing in his eyes. A storm of ice and snow. „That I am a…“, Jace continued but bit his tongue. A bastard. That was what he was.
With one step Cregan was next to him. „Don’t listen to that usurper that is playing king in King’s Landing“, Cregan assured him and put a hand on his shoulder. For a second the feeling of Cregan’s body against his echoed through his body. That night by the fire…The only night in a long time the storm had not haunted his dreams. Jace had been running with wolfs though snowy mountains. The moon hanging above them in a clear sky like the pearls in the necklaces his mother liked to wear. But this was not the time.
„Your Mother is Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen. First of her name. That is the only thing that matters. You could be the son of a wildling and you would still be the Prince. It doesn’t matter. Hey!“ Cregan turned Jace’s face with one hand while the other still rested on his shoulder. „Look at me. You are my Prince and you will have my army.“
Jace heart skipped a beat. There it was again. My Prince. It was nothing special. Many people called him that, but with Cregan it felt different. Like it meant something more. But it couldn’t. They were in a war. Jace was here for Cregan’s army. His loyalty and not…
Jace took a step back. Leaving the warmth of Cregan’s hands behind and for a moment Jace caught something in Cregan’s eyes. Just a flicker. Like the flame of a candle in a storm, but as fast as it appeared it was gone again.
„Thank you Cregan“, Jace said and pretended to yawn. „You are tired.” Cregan took a step towards the door. Widening the gap between them. “Sleep well my Prince.“ And with that Cregan was gone.

In the morning Ice came down on the blond boy’s neck and the went up the Wall. The gravel scratched over the ice beneath their feat as they climbed the stairs towards a cloudy, grey sky.
There were fires burning along the wall. Their dark smoke being taken away by the wind almost immediately before it could mix with the clouds that were ripped apart by the wind as Jace took a careful step toward the edge. It allowed a thin sliver of sunlight to dance over the seemingly endless land of ice and snow before them and reminded Jace of the stories he had been told. Of direwolfs and giants and ice spiders.
„Why did you think he ran away?“, Jace asked as the seemingly ever-present snow danced around them. Cregan had not exchanged a word with him expect for a quick “Morning” when they met at breakfast and maybe Cregan was just preparing himself for the execution, but Jace could not shake the feeling that it was somehow his fault as he padded his pockets for his gloves. That he had said something that made Cregan avoid him.
„What could be out there that is worth then the thread of your sword?“, the Prince added and took a step back closer to one of the fires. Closer to Cregan. „There are far worse things beyond the Wall than Ice“, Cregan shrugged and did not even turn to look at Jace.
„What of the other men in his party? They could still be out there.“ It seemed foolish to just kill the boy, but was done was done. No taking it back. Cregan just shook his head and finally turned to look at Jace. „The first ranger found them“, Cregan explained and then looked down again at Jace un-gloved, shivering hands. „All but two.“
Two? Jace thought as Cregan took Jace’s hands into his, to warm them. Then where was the second one. As if Cregan had had read his mind he continued: „One of them died by my sword the other came back. Half dead with blue eyes.“ Should Jace know what that meant? The tone of Cregan’s voice and the serious look on the Lord’s face made him feel like he should, but it was hart to focus as Cregan was taking of one of his own gloves, putting it on one of Jace’s hands while he held the other. His body heat seeping into Jace’s numb fingers.
„I am sorry for my lack of knowledge, but…What do you mean by that?“, Jace asked to distract himself from the soothing circles Cregan was drawing onto his hand. „Do they not tell stories of the Others in the south?“, Cregan asked and looked up from Jace’s hands to face Jace his dark hair dancing in the wind like the branches of a tree.
„They do, but I did not think they were real“, Jace admitted. Children’s tails Deamon called it. To scare them in long winter nights that seemed so long as if they would never end.
„I don’t know if they are, for I have never seen one for myself“, Cregan replied and let go of Jace’s hands. Jace wanted to protest, but every complained died on his tongue as Cregan pulled him closer to one of the fires.
„But as a Stark and Warden of the North it is my duty to protect my people from every possible threat“, Cregan continued and picked at the seam of his one glove. „As it is mine with the seven kingdoms“, Jace agreed and thought back to what his mother had told him shortly before he left.
„From my blood come the prince that was promised and his will be the song of ice and fire.“ A prophecy made by Aegon the Conquerer. There reason he invaded Westeros. Ice and fire. Like Cregan and him. One a wolf of the icy North. One a dragon.
„I will go to the Commander.“ Jace cleared his throat. „He wanted to show me around today. Do you want to come with me?“, Jace asked hopefully. Not that he did not like the Commander, but with Cregan by his side the whole ordeal would be less boring. But Cregan shook his head. „I was invited to oversee the training of the new recruits again, but we will surely cross paths before dinner. Otherwise, we will plan our journey back then.“ Jace nodded in agreement, before he made his way down the steps again.
“My Prince?” Jace turned around hopefully. Maybe Cregan was going to join him after all. But Cregan just threw him his second glove. “I would be a shame if you lost a finger out here”, Cregan winked, “I heart you people from the south are quite prone to that.” Jace let out a chuckle and tucked on the second glove. It was still warm. “I don’t think the cold chares if you are from the north or south. It is going to steal your fingers non the less.” Cregan laughed at that. “Whatever you say my Prince.” Jace met him with a smile and Jace heart suddenly felt lighter. Maybe Cregan was not angry with him. Maybe everything between them was fine.

The Wall was in dire need of funding. Weapons needed to be replaced and new barracks build. Jace assured the Commander one last time that he would talk to the Queen about it as soon as he returned to Dragonstone, before he climbed onto Oak’s back.
The weather was on their side this time around. No storms only the unrelenting cold of the North. Part of Jace wished for a storm. A storm made from grey clouds and snow. Unlike the once that haunted his dreams with black waters and lightning strikes.
A storm, so he would have an excuse to return to Cregan’s arms where he felt save and cared for, but he knew it was better for him if he did not think of that night. Even as he still wore Cregan’s gloves, while the Lord had taken some from the Commander, because Jace could not find his anymore.
As they came closer to Winterfell Jace started to worry about something other than the tall northman and the storms that haunted his dreams. What if his mother had called for him while he was away? What if had lost another member of his family? He could not lose another. Not his brothers. Not his cousins. Not his parents or grandparents. One of each was enough.
The first thing he asked Sara when they returned was if there was any news of his family, but she just shook her head and dragged him and Cregan into the hall to warm up, where Rickon was eagerly waiting for them.
Rickon waddled towards them when he saw them, a smile so bright it rivaled the sun. Howling like a little wolf when Cregan picked him up, howling back and making Jace’s heart overflow with fondness for the Lord.
It was just a matter of time until he would be called away, he told himself as he watched Rickon play with Cregan plunging a cold dagger in his own heart. „I will look for Vermax“, Jace said and practically ran for the door. Leafing the warms of the hall, not wanting to intrude on the reunion.

Chapter Text

„Do you want to see the weirwood today my Prince?“, Cregan asked as they saddled their horses for the day. Cregan had thought about it for days now. He wanted to show Jace the weirwood, where you could feel the old gods looking at you. The heart of Winterfell.
„I thought we would go hunting. The men talked about a group of boars yesterday“, the Prince replied as he climbed onto Oak’s back. It strangely reminded Cregan of the day of Jace arrival. The ground was covered in fresh snow and the air was crisp. „We could stop by on the way“, Cregan offered as they rode out of the stables. „And that was not a no“, he added with a knowing smile.
„I would never decline an offer from you“, Jace said and gave Cregan a smile, that made his heart stumble. „Of course I would like to see the weirwood. There was one in Kingslanding, but I must say I was never fond of the gardens, so I did not see it often. I can barely remember it now. Only the face. It is haunting.“ Cregan chuckled. „Were you afraid my Prince?“, he teased leaning over to Jace, that only pushed him away, but Cregan could see the smile on the Prince’s face. Chuckling they made the short ride to the godswood and tied up their horses.
They followed the footpath through the shadows of baren trees. The squirrels looked down at them from their branches. Cregan could hear some Snow Shrikes, but the birds were nowhere to be seen.
The small pond beneath the heart tree was frozen and covered in snow. The red leaves shivered in the cold wind and stood out against the grey sky like blood on snow. Even with this grim picture in mind Cregan felt at home under the crown of the heart tree. Even though the ground was frozen he could still smell the earth, brooding, ancient, like Winterfell, like home. So much so that it could be a bit overwhelming at times.
The rear visitors that came to Winterfell told him that they felt out of place there. Like they were intruding. Curious Cregan looked over his shoulder to Jace, who was right behind him. Did Jace fell the old gods watching him or was it just another weirwood to him? Cregan hoped not. He liked to think that his Prince rather liked Winterfell.
„This one is different to the one in Kingslanding.“ The Prince looked up to the red leaves. „In which way?“, Cregan asked and turned around to face Jace. He had to look down a bit to look Jace in the eye. Not an uncommon assurance. Jace was tall. It was just that Cregan was taller. The Prince’s hair had grown long in his time in Winterfell. Unruly, brown curls falling into his face in a way that made him look even more charming.
But his hair was not the only thing that had changed in his time here. The boy that was so eager to follow him on a hunt, just after he had flown a dragon was still there, but…Jace did not hesitate anymore when it came to kill his pray. He had learned to shoot birds out of the sky and track a deer after snowfall. He had travelled to the Wall though a storm and survived. When they fought Cregan could see him planning. Mind always focused on his next move. Excitement burning in his eyes like logs in the flames when he got the upper hand on Cregan.
„In Kingslanding…“, Jace trailed off and hesitantly put a hand on the white bark of the weirwood, as if he was expecting a heartbeat beneath the wood. „The air doesn’t feel so heavy as it does here“, Jace explained hand tracing over the white bark and Cregan felt the sudden desire to place his hand on top of the Prince’s, but Jace withdrew his hand before he could do such a thing.
„You can lie beneath it in the summer and enjoy the light pricing its leaves, just as long as you don’t look at the face. I once saw the tree cry red tears. After that I never went back.“ The Prince cleared his throat and looked down at his hands.
One half of Cregan tried to recall what it meant when a weirwood cried. The other half was already reaching out for Jace’s hands before he could stop himself. „Sounds like a story Sara would tell Rickon to scar him“, he tried to soothe the Prince and drew circles onto the back of his hand with his thumb, like he had back on the wall. The whole morning Cregan had been worried about the execution, at least be told himself that, when he had been worried about something else. Jace.
The Prince was on his mind most of the time now. Like a beautiful haunting. Mostly Cregan worried about him. That Jace was going to freeze. That he had to leave. That the looks from the brothers got to his head. That Cregan had said something that made Jace take a step back from him that evening.
Jace was not wearing gloves. Again. The Prince’s hands were so much softer than his. The scars you would expect from a sword fighter, but there was an underlying feeling Cregan could not really describe. Jace skin was smooth with scars slashed into it, like burned patches of grass on rolling hills. Cregan’s skin was rough to begin with. No one noticed a new gash in a cliff side. With Jace Cregan could probably count all his scars with ease. With himself it was like trying to count the stars in the sky. You lose track too easy.
„She would tell him that and he would probably run into the woods to look form himself“, Jace replied, laughter shining in his brown eyes. „Yeah probably“, Cregan chuckled and tied to cam his fluttering heart as Jace intertwined his fingers with Cregan’s.
Suddenly Cregan realized how close they were. Jace’s fur collar brushing against his arm when he turned. They had not been this close since that night on their way to the Wall. A memory Cregan found himself return to more times than he would like to admit. The warmth of Jace’s body kept him awake at night haunting him in his dreams.
„Cregan?“ The voice of the Prince was quiet. A whisper taken away by the wind only for Cregan to hear. Warm breath brushing against Cregan’s neck as the Prince looked up to him. Red leaves of the tree mirrored in his eyes like flames.
A flame spread through Cregan as if his Prince had set him on fire as Jace held the wolf’s face in his hands to pull him closer, wiping all thoughts away that were not about his Prince. Jace lips were soft and warm against Cregan’s as he kissed him back. Carefully Cregan lifted his hand that was not entangled with the Jace’s to his soft curls, that were like silk between Cregan’s fingers as he tiled the Jace’s head to steal his breath away.
It was so much better than Cregan had imagined. In the sleepless night the mere memory of Jace’s body against his had brought him. Back then he had not though of it. How this night would haunt him. He had been too occupied with keeping his composure.
This time Cregan enjoyed every bit of it. Pulling Jace as close as he could. Basking in his warmth. The desperate grip with which Jace held onto him. Their hot breath dancing over their skin like a fire, that Cregan knew would consume him. But he did not care. For once in his life, he wished to burn.
But suddenly his fire was ripped away from him like someone had thrown a bucket of water on the flames. Jace withdrew from him and looked at him in shook. Cregan - too drunk on the feeling of kissing the Prince to realize what was going on - wanted to pull him close again, to feel his warmth again, but Jace made a step back, a hand coming up to his lips.
„By the gods“, the Prince let out in a quiet whisper before he ran. Through the godswood. Away from Cregan. Dark cloak trailing behind him like a hungry wolf.
It took Cregan a second too long to realize what was happening. When his mind finally caught up to him, the Prince had already disappeared into the dark woods, and his heart sunk into the dark waters of the pool beneath the heart tree.
“Jace!” Cregan ran after him, hoping he would get to talk to Jace before he got to the horses. They could talk about it. Whatever it had been that made Jace run away. They could talk.
However, the gods did not grant him that wish. The gate out of the godswood was already in few when the ground seemed to give away beneath him. He had slipped on a sheet of ice Cregan realized, but it was too late. There was nothing he could hold onto to soften his fall.
His head hit a hart surface and his view began to swim. Black of the trees mixing with the white of the snow and the red of his own blood on the fallen snow. Red and black and white dancing in front of his eyes as Cregan forced himself back to his feet and stumbled towards the gate with a headache that threated to split his head in two. Desperate to reach Jace before he got away, but his horse awaited him alone dancing in the powdery snow with the tracks of Oak leading away from the Godswood and with a heavy heart Cregan realized: Jace was gone. Gone. He was too late.
A couple of people came running towards him, worrying about his head wound, but Cregan did not care about that right now. What was another scar? He just wanted to find Jace. Eventually Sara showed up and dragged him from his horse and back to the hall where she took care of his head and told him that the men had left for the hunt without him.
„Have you seen Jace?“, Cregan asked as Sara put a bowl in front of him - according to her he was not allowed to move. „Oh, we are calling the prince Jace now?“, Sara asked and Cregan did not need to look at her to know that she had a teasing smile on her face.
„Yes. Have you seen him?“ Cregan was not in the mood and kept nervously fiddling with his spoon, eyes darting around the hall in hopes of spotting Jace.
He had not kissed anyone since Arra and Jace had just ran off afterwards. It was nothing new to Cregan that he like men and woman, but maybe it was to Jace. And Cregan just really wanted to talk to Jace. Just explain…What exactly? Cregan did not even know. That he liked him? That he dreamed about him? That he wanted to kiss him again? That the Prince’s mere presents made his heart flutter like he was just 14 again? Kissing a girl for the first time in a dark corridor leading to the kitchens.
„He went with the hunters. Should be back for dinner.“ Sara padded his shoulder and walked off, leaving Cregan alone with his thoughts, pushing his porridge around in his bowl.
So Jace was out hunting. That was good. Jace could blow off some steam. Maybe put his thoughts into order and then they could talk. Just talk about…whatever Jace was willing to.
Suddenly it hit Cregan like a kick from a horse. Gods! Jace was betrothed. To the daughter of Daemon Targaryen. That was probably why he ran off. Cregan wanted to drown himself in his porridge, before the prince-consort found out that he kissed his son (in law). Why did he kiss Jace? But was he really the one to kiss Jace?
Whichever way around. Jace was betrothed to Baela, and he seemed fond of her. From time-to-time Jace would talk about his family, his cousins and brothers and the talk of Baela always brought a smile on his face.
Cregan buried his face in his hands and sighed. Why? Why did he have to fall for the dragon prince? They were in the beginning of a civil war. There were more important things than love.

When Jace returned that evening, he did not look at Cregan, he did not talk to Cregan. The prince still laughed and drank with Cregan’s men, but he did not even acknowledge the Lord. In some part it was better than the five days after the news of Lucerys’s death. Jace still ate food and Cregan could see him, but he was further away somehow. In the way the moon sometimes looked like you could just reach out and touch it. So close but jet so far.
Then, on the morning of the third day of Jace avoiding him, Cregan knocked on Jace’s door. He just wanted to talk. Jace’s door swung open, unlocked like it had been when Cregan had come to him the first time. The chest stood open in the room. Completely empty, except for the clothing Sara had given him.
Before he knew it Cregan ran to the crypts. Please, don’t be gone already, Cregan thought as he approached the entrance to the crypts. It was snowing heavily. Thick snowflakes crowing his few, but he spotted something green. Vermax!
„Jace!“ The prince was climbing onto his dragons back. Taking the rains. „Jace!“ Cregan came to a halt in front of the dragon almost slipping again. „Jace. Don’t leaf, please.“ Cregan felt pathetic looking up to the dragon. Not being able to see the prince clearly through the dancing snow.
„If you stay here. I swear it to you. I will raise you an army and take the throne for you. I will walk all my men into battle under your flag. My Prince. My Jace.“ Cregan would do anything to make Jace stay, which was so stupid of him. He could not play with the life of his men. His emotions should not get the better of him. He was a Lord. Cregan had people to protect, but…this was about Jace.
„But please. Don’t be foolish. Wait until your mother calls for you. I beg you. There is no reason to ride into battle when you don’t know where you are going.“ Shivering Cregan wrapped his arms around himself. He had to pull his own emotions out of this.
„Your mother wants you to stay here.“ To stay with me. „And I will not refuse my queen. So please my Jace, let Vermax be and come back inside. It is cold.“ Cregan’s heart was heavy as he waited for a response.
„We can forget what happened.“ It pained him to say it. „We don’t have to talk about it.“ Every word was like a danger to his chest, wiled by his own hand. Jace was silent again. Snowflakes danced around them in the howling winds.
Every snowflake that landed on Cregan made him feel heavier. Whatever he had to do to make Jace stay he would do it. The kingdom needed their prince alive. Preferably not blown away by a snowstorm. „At least stay until the weather is better“, Cregan pleaded and for a ghoulish second, he thought Vermax was going to take off and whisk the Dragon Prince away.
When Jace jumped off his Dragon and lead Vermax back into the Crypts a stone fell off his chest. „Let’s get you back inside. Breakfast should be ready“, Cregan said as Jace reappeared shortly after, shivering in his thin cloth. Cregan wanted to take the Prince into his arms, but he was in no place to do that. Instead, he walked back towards the hall, now and then looking over his shoulder to assure that Jace was following him.
They sat at breakfast like they had been before. Plaining their day and entertaining Rickon, like they did just a couple of days ago. And Cregan could pretend that everything was like it had been. Like he did not dream of Jace every night.

Chapter Text

Jace was miserable. One the one hand he was waiting for his mother to finally call him into battle. Every morning, he nervously awaited the ravens, but… thoughts of Cregan clouded his mind and he heated himself for it. His brother was dead. There was a war going on and all he could think about was the Stark holding him in his arms.
He wished for Baela to be here. With her Jace could talk about such things and she was much of a sister to him as she could be.
After their betrothal had been arranged, she had pulled him aside and explained that she was fine with him taking a paramour. Confused he had replied that he had no intention to do so, and he would honour their bond. He knew what it felt like to be a bastard. How everyone looked at him, like they were just waiting for him to say something, do something that would reveal who he really was. A Strong. Jace was not about to do that to his children.
Baela had just smiled at him and said: „But I have no desire for men. I intend to do my duty and not bring shame to our union, but I will not lie with you as a lover Jace.“ It took a moment for Jace to register what she was saying. „Oh“, he had let out surprised, before he had straightened his back and face Baela, who looked upon him with worry in her eyes.
„We will stand as a union.“ Jace had taken Baela’s hand. „I love you like you were my sister and if anyone doubts you or threatens you, I will be there to protect you if you need me.“ Baela had hugged him and thanked him. „You can always come to talk to me Jace“, she had said, and he had hugged her a bit tighter.
Jace wanted to tell her about Cregan, how the grey eyes and the touch of the Stark haunted him. And his dreams. But she was not here. He was alone in Winterfell. He could talk to Sara about it, but…that would be awkward.
His dreams were full of storms and unending black waters. Waves as tall as Vhagar drowning him in the cold depths with thunder and lightning dragging him back to the surface. Onto grey ice that was cold but firm beneath his feet.
Jace knew he should not want the ice, but it was the only thing keeping him afloat. At least for a time, before it would melt and drift away from him or the next wave washed him back into the black water. Only to be pulled back by the teeth of a wolf in his shoulder.
When they trained now, Cregan was still as controlled as he had ever been, but it felt harsher and colder now like the winds that had pushed Jace around when he flew to Winterfell. Where Jace had found warmth before was now just a storm brewing in his chest.
Jace sat with Cregan and Rickon in the evenings like they had been before, but they as well could have not talked to each other at all. They were mere pretenders. Acting like they were still friends and there was nothing that stood between them. That Jace had not kissed the Lord under the weirwood.
The Prince did not know what brought him to kiss Cregan. Maybe it had been the old gods, pushing them together for another story, history would forget. Great friends they would be called. An alliance, that could bring victory to the Black Queen, build on brotherhood. A love that could never flourish. For it was born in a war. There was no promise that Jace would not be dead before the next summer or even survive the winter.
A selfish part of Jace wanted to kiss the Lord again. Pull him away from the feast and into his chambers. Feel the rough hands of the Lord on his skin again. Forget about the war that was going to claim many more lives before it would end and just be. Even if it was only hushed words in the cover of night between to lovers. Not a Lord and a Prince. Just between them as equals.
However, it had not been Cregan that ran away. It had been Jace. He was the coward. He had set himself set alight so he would burn like his fathers. Reduced to ashes for their love. But Jace liked not to think about it.
Jace tried to keep himself busy as always, but it was hart when the person you wanted to forget about was always right behind you. Cregan’s presence was impossible to miss even if he wasn’t there. Jace would walk through the courtyard and remember his first training with Cregan. How the taller had brought him to the ice ground with ease. He would see one of Cregan’s men and remember how he assisted them on a hunt. How they stalked through the woods together and how proud Cregan had looked upon him when he shot a shadowcat. But that was before.
Now Jace spend his days between training and snooping around Winterfell in search for a place that did not remind him of Cregan. It took him a couple of days, but he found it. In a broken tower.
Yes, it was cold. Yes, the steps were ice and his breath danced around him like clouds, but it was empty. Of people and memories. No one and nothing to remind him of Cregan. Nothing to encourage the spark that would reduce him to an empty shell if he let it burn.
Jace spend hours with a book practicing his Valyrian while the wind howled through the tower like a dying wolf. Ñuha zokla, he thought, my wolf. Even the old gods sent him the wind as a messenger to remined him of Cregan.
“So here have you been hiding all this time.” Jace flinched as he heard a voice coming from the stairs. Sara stood in the doorway. Cheeks red from the cold and hair tousled form the wind.
“I am not hiding”, was all Jace said and went back to his book. He had brought it from Dragonstone. He could command his dragon, but the rest was lacking. Not worthy of a Prince.
“Then what are you doing?”, Sara asked curious and looked over his shoulder. “Practicing”, he sighed and closed the book, making her take a step back as he turned to face her. Jace had a feeling she was not letting this go before she had an answer that satisfied her.
“And you could not to that in any of the many rooms that are warm because…?” She looked at him like she waited for him to finish her sentence, but all he could see was Cregan when he looked at her and that made his heart twist in his chest.
Sara was a beautiful woman. With the same stormy eyes as her brother and long blond hair. She deserved better than to be only compared to her brother. She was an important figure in Winterfell. Men and woman alike came to her when Cregan was not there to ask for advice and Jace liked her. She was nice to him, and he had started to see her much like Baela. As the older sister he never had.
After the first evening Cregan had elaborated on how Sara had come to be his sister. No one had seen her mother when she had placed Sara infant of the gates of Winterfell, but Cregan’s father Rickon had still claimed her as his own to protect her. She could very well be the daughter of any other man, but Rickon Stark had taken care of her like she was his own.
For a bastard Sara was well respected, but Jace doubted that in any other part of Westeros she would be treated the way she was in the North. To be a woman and a bastard was a much worser fade then his, but still…She had a sort of power. People treated her with respect, because she had eared it, because she had shown that she was useful.
That was one-part Jace loved about the North, how everyone worked together to get through the winter. He had overheard someone say „The lone wolf dies but pack survives“ and if felt right. No one could survive here alone. There was no time for plotting for years like the Hightowers had done. Jace would gladly see his uncles fight and fall victim to the conditions of the North, but they were too tangled in their own dispute to come to the North and freeze to death.
“Look”, Sara spoke up and drew him back into the ice tower. “What happens in the godswood only the gods see, but you hurt my brother.” Jace had seen the wound on Cregan’s head. The dried blood in his hair when he had returned form the hunt. He had wanted to take his wolf’s face into his hands and asked him what had happened, but it was not his place. He had run away. If Jace had not been such a coward the Lord would not have slipped and hit his head.
“I did not intend for that.” Jace clung to the book in his lap. The only piece of home he had except for Vermax. “But his head has healed up well, judging by who he still pushes me around in the courtyard”, he attempted to joke, but Sara just shook her head. “This is not about his head. It is about his heart you idiot!” That was…deserved.
Others may have feared the Prince’s rath for insulting him, but in truth it was Jace who was a bit scared of the she-wolf. “You can’t just…I don’t know what happened, but I for certain knew that you were the one to run away! Gods! You even almost flew away!” Fury her eyes was like a gray flame, that threated to set the whole tower alight with a different sort of fire. “Without a word! To me or Rickon and most importantly Cregan! He cares for you more then you know.” Jace swallowed the words climbing up his throat. I care for him too. I care so much it scares me. His presence alone makes it hard to concentered. My heart is racing. I can’t think clear until I find my way out of his eyes and I have smothered the spark in my chest that is going to consume me.
“And you care too”, Sara said, “I know it. I have seen it. The way you look at him sometimes…” Jace suddenly sat up straight panic in his eyes. If anyone noticed that he…He knew what they would think. Not only a bastard but…It would be like his father all over again.
Jace knew about the stories they told about his father, Sir Laenor. Maybe they would think that he was really Laenor’s son if they had seen him kiss Cregan. His friend. The best friend he ever had.
Cregan’s men called them brothers, but that was not right. The love he had for Cregan was different then the love he had for his brothers or Baela or Rhaena. It was like a flame consuming him from the inside. Like the Lord had set him alight with a kiss only to let him burn to cinders alone. But you ran, a voice inside whispered to him, You set yourself alight. Rembert?
“I don’t think anyone else has noticed”, Sara assured him when she saw the terror on his face, which gave him little comfort. Jace closed his eyes and tried to collect himself. No one has noticed. No one was in the Godswood. No one could see.
“I doesn’t matter if I care for him”, he began, “We are too different. A Wolf can never be with a dragon. Fire and Ice are too different. Like Cregan once said, a direwolf could not be further from a dragon.”
“Don’t make this about some stupid sigils.” Sara shook her head in disbelieve. “You and Cregan are way to similar. A couple of stupid boys is what you are. You might be a Prince but, in the end, you bleed just as the rest of us.” With that Sara stormed down the steps. Jace ran after her to make sure she did not slip, which she didn’t. He watched as she walked back to the main hall.

It was another snowy morning when the raven arrived. Jace was waiting at breakfast for Cregan, when the other entered the hall. A letter in hand and suddenly Jace felt like he was drowning again. Cold water spreading through his chest.
„Your mother wants you to return to Dragonstone tomorrow.“ Cregan offered him the letter, grey eyes unreadable again, and Jace took it, mostly to hide behind the paper.
„It was just a matter of time“, Jace said, after he was confident that he could withstand the Cregan’s now burning stare and put the letter down. „But I still wish you did not have to go“, Cregan admitted, and the rope tightened around Jace’s throat again.
„We will certainly miss you“, the Lord sighed and put Rickon down between himself and Jace. The young Stark looked up to Jace and stretched his arms towards him as if asking to be picked up and Jace heart melted a bit. He would miss all the Starks when he left. Cregan, Rickon and Sara had become a constant in his life. With leafing them Jace would leave part of himself behind.
His time in Winterfell had changed him. Jace was certainly a better fighter and hunter now, more equipped for the war he would soon join, but Jace doubted that one could never be prepared for war. He would have liked to believe that he had grown as a person too, but then he had kissed Cregan when he himself was engaged and then run away like a coward, because he panicked like the idiot Sara so rightfully called him.
Jace picked Rickon up and put the younger Stark into his lap, which seemed to please him. Rickon laid his head on top of the table and looked up at Jace, eyes almost sparkling.
„Jace“, the younger Stark said, breaking and warming Jace’s heart at the same time. Rickon was babbling all the time, spinning random syllables together in an attempt to communicate and Jace had learned to understand him in a way, but he had never said his name.
„Jace“, Rickon repeated, as if to prove that: Yes, I know your name. „There is your prove“, Cregan let out a breathless chuckle and padded Rickon’s head. Hand brushing against Jace’s arm, when the Lord withdrew. Lighting Jace’s skin on fire and making his heartbeat impossibly loud. „I guess so.“ It almost hurt how hard Jace’s heart was beating in his chest and was angry at himself for not controlling his emotions better.
„I will go talk to Sara.“ Cregan stood up, pulling Jace out of his thoughts. „We have a feast to organize.“ „That is not needed. Really“, Jace tried to insist, but Cregan was already walking towards the kitchens. „But I want to, my Prince. And we want you to remember the North fondly, don’t we?“ Cregan winked and Jace’s heart stuttered. Of course, he would remember the North fondly and if only for Cregan.
They spend their last day hunting deer like they had on their first hunt together. This time Jace was leading the party, and he did not hesitate to end the live of the stag. The screams of the animal were still haunting, but Jace had no time for sympathy. After this night he would probably never see Cregan again and - on the off chance that Jace would survive this war - he would see Cregan return to the North without him.
All Jace wanted to do, was pull the Stark into a tight hug and never let go, take Cregan, Sara and Rickon with him and win the war together. Delegating from the safety of Dragonstone. A stupid and selfish dream. Jace was needed in battle. Their dragons were the reason the Targaryen were kings to begin with and not using them was just not an option. And Cregan would not leave his men to ride into battle alone. Jace had learned that the Lord was always there when his people needed him. Surly he would be among his men when it was time for battle.
The feast was as grand as the celebrations in Dragonstone. The kitchens must have worked the whole day to manage to such a grand feast and Jace felt bad for them. He did not need any of this. Jace had grown to like the simple way of the North. You work, you eat, you sleep. Simple.
It seemed that everyone wanted to drink with him and after the third guy urging him to empty his cup in one go, Jace just stop refilling his cup. He wanted to keep a clear head.
The whole night he kept an eye on Cregan - not that that was anything new - but…The thought haunted Jace that they would never come together again as they were now. If they both survived the war, they would come out different, but Jace liked himself as he was now and he liked Cregan as he was now.
He was dancing with one of Sara’s friends, when Cregan emptied his last cup and disappeared from the hall and something pulled Jace away from the feast too. The Prince found himself in front of Cregan’s cambers, mind set on what he wanted. One night was all he allowed himself. If Cregan would even have him anymore. He would allow the Lord to set him alight. Since the shadow of the Stranger was already looming over him like a promise.
Nervously Jace fidgeted with the broch of his doublet as he looked up at Cregan’s door looming over him. The music from the hall had died down and only echoed quietly through the long halls like the kings of winter were telling them stories from their stone graves in the crypts. The songs of winter wolf were drowned out by his ever so rapidly beating heart when he knocked on Cregan’s door.

Chapter Text

Cregan did not know if he wanted to leaf the feast or stay. Jace was to leaf tomorrow and currently the Prince was drinking with Sara, seemingly enjoying his last evening in Winterfell. Dancing and dinking and laughing.
Well at least one of them was having fun, Cregan thought and emptied his cup. He knew that he would not find comfort at the bottom, but he could still try. Maybe if he drank enough, he would forget this evening and the dull pain in his heart of a love that never was and never could be. But maybe if he drank too much, he would miss Jace leafing tomorrow and that was not something he wanted.
He would not rob himself of the last moment with his Prince, even though it seemed they had stopped being friends the moment they kissed under the red crown of the weirwood. Jealousy was bitter on his tough as Cregan kept replaying the moment in his head while he watched Jace danced with one of Sara’s friends.
This girl would never know the feeling of Jace’s lips on hers. She would never know the roaring flame that burned inside of the dragon Prince. His Jace. His king.
Cregan looked on as Jace went to dance with another girl and Cregan had to hold himself back from just stepping in and stealing Jace away. It could be easily explained. “I just have to talk to the Prince really quick” and it would be done. Pull the Prince into his room, kiss him again until he forgot about all the girls and there was nothing left of Cregan but his smoldering bones.
But the Prince was not his to steal away, Cregan remined himself. Jace did not need the Lord of Winterfell staring at him with sadness in his eyes, Cregan thought, emptied another cub and left for his chamber, where he could drown in his sadness in peace.
The music from the hall had long died down, but Cregan could not find sleep. He was standing in front of the fire when it knocked on his door. „Who is it? I said I wanted to be left alone.“ „It’s me my Lord“, Jace voice rang through the heavy door and made Cregan’s breath hitch. Without hesitation he heard himself say: „Come in.“
Cregan kept his gaze focused on the fire in front of him, as if the flames could consume him and save him the pain of seeing the dragon Prince go. He only turned to look at Jace when he heard the door lock behind the Prince, that walked towards him with purpose, but also hesitation like his courage would leaf him if he did not speak his thoughts now.
With flames burning in his eyes the Prince looked up at Cregan, taking the Stark’s face into his hands. Coarse fingers and soft palms hovering over Cregan’s skin. „What do you want of me, my Jace?“ Cregan searched for answers in the warm eyes of his Prince while the flames licked at his heart.
„My army or…“ „You“, Jace whispered against Cregan’s chest, barely audible over the cracking of the fire. Voice brittle like it had been in the Godswood. „I just want you. Cregan.“ Cregan’s heart was like an autumn leaf clinging on for dear life onto its tree.
“You are betrothed, Jace”, Cregan reminded him expecting the Prince to step back, but Jace only looked at him whit burning eyes. “She does not care for what I do. She prefers the company of her Ladies”, Jace explained.
Disregarding the screams in his head telling him that this was stupid, he leaned down and leaned his head against the one of the dragon Prince. „We a bound by duty to our people“, Cregan whispered, pain poisoning his voice. He was the Warden of the North. He had to protect his people. Act in their best interested not his own. „Yes, we are.“ The first kiss was soft, hesitant, and it awaken a growing amber in Cregan’s chest.
„But they are not here right now“, Jace concluded, searching for an answer in Cregan’s eyes. „They are not.“ And with that Cregan let himself be selfish, took Jace face into his hands and kissed him.
Jace lips were still as soft as Cregan remembered, but the Prince was more eager now. Clawing at Cregan’s chest until he got a hold of his shirt and pulled Cregan closer. Making the kiss deeper with one of Cregan’s hands wandering from Jace’s face to his hip to hold onto his Prince. He wanted this to last. Take his time with his dragon Prince and commit every scar Jace had to memory. If he had to be selfish, he could at least indulge himself.
When Jace tugged on the laces of Cregan’s shirt like he was asking for permission, Cregan chuckled and moved down to kiss Jace’s neck, making the younger shiver. „Are you getting shy now?“, Cregan asked, pressing kisses into the Prince’s soft skin. When Jace did not reply, Cregan came up to face him. „Are you nervous?“, Cregan whispered, kissing the back of Jace’s hands. The Prince looked up at him pupils blown wide and Cregan could not tell if it was the fire reflecting in Jace’s eyes or an actual fire burning inside of him.
„A bit“, Jace admitted, untangling the laces of Cregan’s shirt, pushing it aside and letting his hand hover over Cregan’s heart. „But not really“, he added and met Cregan`s eyes again.
When Jace touched him, Cregan’s felt like his heart had been engulfed in flames. Like Jace was burning a mark right over his heart, calming him as his own. Lit alight Cregan pulled Jace into another kiss, deeper, searing, addicting. Making the younger moan into Cregan’s mouth as the Prince pressed closer. Warm hands roaming over the Northman’s chest and Cregan became desperate to touch Jace. To feel his soft skin against his own.
Jace whined in protest and chased after him, when Cregan pulled away. „Can I take your shirt off?“, Cregan whispered into Jace ear pressing kisses into the Prince’s dark hair down to his shoulder. „Yes“, Jace replied hastily, „Yes please.“

They spend the entire night committing each other’s bodies to memory. It was clear that Jace had never done this before, but - like with everything else - he was a fast learner. A bit too fast for Cregan’s sanity. When Jace threw his head back as he sat in Cregan’s lab and the Lord pressed his mouth against his chest leafing bruises behind, the flickering light caught in his long hair making him shine. Blessed by the old gods. Send to Cregan as a twisted version of night’s queen. Not born from ice but fire. An otherworldly beauty that men would burn whole realm for just to get a glimpse. And Cregan had it all to himself. His Jace. His King.
Eventually Jace fire died down enough for Cregan to lay them down next to each other and intertwine their fingers and kissed the back on his Prince’s hand. „We are never going to have this again, are we?“, Jace asked, fingers dancing over Cregan’s skin setting it on fire all over again.
„Unfortunately, I don’t think so“, Cregan replied, rather focusing on Jace’s hand in his then on the fact that Jace would be gone in a couple of hours. Cregan’s was not ready to face that fact that his lover would be ripped form him once again. This time by war.
Jace rested his head on Cregan’s chest and looked up to him with big, warm eyes, that Cregan would gladly be consumed by. „Then we have to make the best of the time we have, right?“, Jace asked drawing circles onto Cretan’s chest and batting his eyelashes, like he had never done anything wrong in his live. And Cregan believed him even though he knew better.
Instead of replying Cregan pulled Jace in a bruising kiss. His Jace let out a surprised yelp before he melted against Cregan, like they had done this over a hundred times already. Like they had not spent the last couple of days in a weird limbo between friends and strangers.
Something about Jace just felt so familiar to Cregan as his hands found a home on the warm, smooth skin of Jace’s hips - that were already bruised - like he did when he caught Jace at training a couple of weeks ago. Preventing Jace of slipping on the snow and pulling him closer than the usual distance kept to the Prince. The warmth had radiation of the other’s body though his clothing and Cregan had craved it as the wind made his face burn.
What they were doing now reminded Cregan in a strange way of their training in the cord yard, because Jace played with Cregan’s body as he did with the sword. There was a youthful eagerness, rush, fire burning in him that made him lash out, pull Cregan into a kiss that clouded his mind, but also a calculated look behind the fire. Planning what to do next, what would bring him and Cregan them most pleasure together and Cregan loved every second of it. Like lightning that knew where to strike to set the whole forest on fire.
He loved throwing Jace of his plan when he had one. Making them Prince moan when he did something he did not expect. Both of them working together in adapting to one another to get the other to finish faster or draw it out until the pleasure bordered on pain.
Eventually, when they fell asleep on the furs, Jace was curled up into Cregan and the Lord had e protecting arm wrapped around his dragon Prince. Keeping him close to his heart for as long as he could. Nursing the flame that had made its home there for as long as he could. Before the cold morning wind would kill the spart and carry his lover away to a war, he could not yet follow him into. Yet.

In the morning a knock on the door ripped them both out of their sleep. „Cregan?“, Sara asked from beyond the door and rattled the lock. Cregan jumped to his feet, signaled Jace to be quiet and tucked on his pants on the way to the door.
„Yes Sara?“, he sighed and opened the door. „Jace won’t answer when I knock on his door“, Sara explains and tried to peak into Cregan’s room, but he managed to block her prying eyes. „Oh, I think he wanted to talk with Vermax first thing. Prepare the dragon for…the journey.“ Cregan’s tongue felt like lead. He did not want Jace to go. „Sure“, Sara replied, „If you happen to see him, tell him breakfast is ready.“
Cregan closed the door again with a sigh. When he looked up, he saw Jace smiling. „What?“ „Nothing“, Jace replied, but the smile in his voice betrayed him and suddenly all Cregan wanted to do was to pull him close and kiss him again. So, he did.
Cregan could taste the smile on Jace’s lips and for a moment he could imagine that they really were lovers. Like every morning could be like this. And maybe it could have been. If not for that dammed war.
„Come on“, Cregan whispered against Jace’s lips, „As much as I like for us to stay in my room…We should go for breakfast. You need to be as well rested as you can for your journey.“ A bit of Jace flame left his eyes as he nodded and turned to collect his cloth from the floor.
While they got dressed, Cregan kept stealing glances at Jace. He felt slightly guilty for the marks he had left all over the Prince. Slightly. And when Cregan met Jace’s eyes he at least knew that he was not the only one admiring the other.
Cregan was remembered of their trip to the wall. The cold night that had brought Jace into his arms, to keep them from freezing. At least Cregan had told himself that back then and it had been for that, but…Maybe he had been selfish back then too.

Breakfast went by way too fast and before Cregan knew it, Jace was saying goodbye to Rickon and was due to leave. Rickon did not seem to understand the gravity of the situation. He was giggling as ever. As if Jace would return in the evening as he did every day. But not this time. This time it was a final goodbye. It could be that Cregan would never see his Prince hold Rickon again, but Rickon was too young to understand that.
With a heavy heart they made their way towards the courtyard. Each step made Cregan’s body feel heavier. It almost felt like walking through water. Soaking his cloth. Dragging him down. Pressing not his shoulders to make him kneel. It was almost hart to breathe.
Cregan did not want Jace to go, but what choice did he have? Hold the Prince hostage? No. A war against the Queen was not a good idea, even if it was over Jace. He had allowed himself to be selfish for once, now he had to be Lord Stark again. The Warden of the North. Protector of his people. But maybe…
As they passed an empty room, Cregan took Jace’s hand and pulled him into the room with him. Jace seemed surprised at first but followed without protest. With the door closing behind them with a heavy thud they left the world behind. The war. Their responsibilities.
„I wish to say a proper goodbye to you“, Cregan leaned towards his prince. Taking his face into his hands. „My dragon Prince.“ Jace greeted him with a smile and wrapped his arms around Cregan’s neck. „Very well my Wolf.“
Something about Jace’s words made Cregan smile as he caught Jace’s lips in a kiss as if to drown the sorrow that was already filling his chest like cold water in the warmth of his Prince. All he could do was hold onto Jace and trying to commit the feeling of Jace in his arms to memory. The feeling of the soft lips of the Prince against his. The feeling of the dragon’s silky looks between his fingers.
„I will miss you. More than you could imagine“, Jace whispered against Cregan’s lips as he leaned his head against Cregan’s. „I think I can imagine for I will miss you twice as much“, Cregan replied in an attempt to overplay his bleeding heart.
„Oh, will you now?“, Jace chuckled sparks in his eyes, „I don’t think that is quite possible.“ Cregan stole his smile with a new kiss, that his prince answered eagerly. Warmth chasing the cold out of his bones. Filling his lungs and heart. Drowning him in ambers not ice.
In a need for air, they separated again. „I will come as fast as I can.“ Carefully Cregan took Jace’s hand in his. Tracing the scars on the back of Jace’s hand. „I promise“, he added and kissed the dragon’s hand.
„And I that I will stay alive long enough to see you again“, Jace replied and Cregan’s stomach twisted, despised the breakfast he had enjoyed with his fingers enlaced with Jace’s under the table.
„Don’t speak like that“, Cregan said stern, „You make it sound like you want to meet the stranger rather sooner than later.“ „Not before I see you again“, Jace replied and tilted his head with a sad simile on his lips.
“I also thought of something.” Jace cleared his throat and tangled his fingers with Cregan’s as if to sooth him. “In the case we don’t see each other again...maybe I have time to get married and have children and maybe they will survive”, Jace started and Cregan wanted to speak up, but stopped when Jace shook his head, before he continued. “Maybe if I have a daughter, she could marry Rickon and our families could join and our descendants would protect the realm. Together.” Jace leaned his head against Cregan’s and closed his eyes. That was a lot of maybes, resulting in an almost impossible seeming dream. “In a pact of ice and fire”, he added and made Cregan’s heart stumble in a completely different way.
“Is that what you want? For our families to join?”, Cregan asked and tucked a strand of Jace’s hair behind his ear with shaking hands. “If we don’t history won’t even remember us”, Jace replied a sad fire burning in his eyes. “Nobody will think of me as a Targaryen Prince. I will just be the bastard of Harwin Strong for all eternity.” Again, Cregan wanted to speak up. To tell Jace that it did not matter that he was a bastard, but Jace spore again, before Cregan could say anything.
“And I like the idea of us…together”, Jace added meeting Cregan’s eyes once more. There it was again. A spark not of ambition but hope. Hope that after this was all done a part of them could still exist. Survive through all the bloodshed and dragon fire that was to come.
„Then I will be sure to win you a crown and a kingdom and protect you and your family“, Cregan assured him. If this was what his King wished for, he would make it happen, and even if he couldn’t, he would make sure that the people responsible would pay.
“I spear it by the old gods and the new and whatever else is out there”, Cregan promised. “After Winterfell is ready”, Jace added with a sad but knowing smile. They had had their dream. A glimpse of a life that could have been. Of a love that could have been. When Jace left Winterfell, he would be the Prince of Dragonstone again and Cregan the Warden of the North, Lord of Winterfell, Protector of the realm. Their people had to be their first priority. That was the life they were born in. A life of duty.
But not yet, Cregan thought, now Jace is still here. Vermax is still scaring the animals away and Sara has not yet, cleared out Jace’s room. So Cregan pulled his Jace closer and gave him one last kiss. Sweet. Full of sorrow, warmth and promises.

Jace did not keep his promise, but Cregan did and after he was done, he went back to Winterfell. A long life was considered a blessing. For Cregan it was a curse. He found Aly in the midst of this war, and he loved her until she died too. Like Arra. Like Lynara. Like his father. Like his brother. Like Rickon. All taken by the Stranger before he finally came for him too. And all he could hope for as he lay dying was to see the weirwood one more time and remember the way the red leaves burned in the eyes of his dragon Prince.