▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎
— If anyone was shocked that Lady Stark would waltz in the gates of winterfell, covered head-to-toe in dirt, leaves, and who knows what else, they must've been new to her routine.
Lady [Y/N], the youngest of the late Lord Rickons children. Born during an stormy evening, in 115.
It was rumored that the only touch she had from her dying mother was a small, gentle kiss upon her forehead.
Lord Rickon, seeing his daughter had taken his wife's life, was not pleased. And of course, the only plausible way to overcome grief was to bury himself in every whore from Winterfell to Dorne. That was another rumor.
When [Y/N] was four, when she found her older brother dead in his bed, only nine, dead because of some sickness that overtook him.
Cregan, the eldest and future heir, took it the hardest, finding it hard to cope without his brother.
His childhood friend, Arra Norrey, helped him with his grief, and helped him raise his little sister, while their father went out for drinks.
And not even two-years later, Lord Rickon Stark was dead.
And now, Lord Cregan Stark ruled Winterfell. His only heir, so far, Rickon, never leaving his side.
"Sister!"
His booming voice is what [Y/N] had heard when she finally was clear of her Direwolf, Ethon.
She turned the corner, obviously comfortable enough to roam around the castle without changing out of the stinking clothes.
She rolled her eyes, "Yes, Cregan?"
He stood tall, near the same height of Ethon. He had his traditional furs around his shoulders, though his hair didn't seem as matted and little Rickon was nowhere in sight.
"What is it, dear brother?"
"We have a guest. A targaryen," He whispered the surname as if it were a curse, "I expect you to be of your best behaviour and change out of those disgusting clothes."
Cregan sighed, and turned, as if he were hiding [Y/N]. "I'm sorry, Prince Jacaerys, my little sister isn't used to such royalty."
She heard a slight chuckle from in front of he brother.
"It's truly fine, Lord Stark. I'm not even my best clothes."
The two share a laugh, Cregan's was put on.
"I'll go change then." [Y/N] sighed, before turning, not before sneaking a glance from behind Cregan.
Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, stood tall, but not merely as tall as Cregan, his broad shoulders, and sharp cheekbones and jaw, all stood out. She was almost speechless.
She didn't realise she was staring for so long until his dark eyes met her Stark grey ones, he smiled, dimples and a twinkle in his eyes.
[Y/N] flushed red, and rushed off.
▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎
With the help with her handmaiden,
[Y/N]'s hair was put up in the traditional hair style, and traditional coloured dress, with her furs around her freckled-dotted shoulders.
She walked in, expecting just her brother, and little Rickon, but was met with many of men, their wives, and children. All here to meet the Prince, and to-be heir to the Iron Throne.
She hurried her steps to the front table where her brother sat, little Rickon eating away at his food.
"Dearest brother, perhaps it would be best to tell me about a feast..?"
Cregan smiled. "Sister, sit. You worry too much, 'tis only a small feast, since we have Prince Jacaerys here until his dragon feels better."
Dragon..?
Cregan must've seen the stress on his sisters features. "Don't worry yourself,
[Y/N]. The dragon is far from the castle, and far from you dear little Ethon."
"Ethon!" Little Rickon squealed at the mention of his aunts Direwolf.
Cregan looked at his son with dear adoration. A sweet reminder of him and his late wife's love.
"Brother, I do believe a treat is in a store for my sweet nephew for finishing his dinner, don't you agree?" [Y/N] smiled at Rickon.
Cregan smiled into his cup. "I agree, full heartily, sister."
"Ethon!" Rickon giggles as he jumps off his chair and rushing to his aunts side.
Cregan laughs. "Best of behaviour, sweet boy."
[Y/N] smiles at the two, before picking up the toddler, and wrapping him up in his fur, which laid on the ground.
She let him free of her hold when they finally got out of the crowded hall, and his tiny little hand led her to Ethon's cage.
"Ethon," Rickon whispered.
And before they knew the cage began rattling, and a black and white tail was seen wagging back and forth with excitement.
[Y/N] moved her nephew to the small stand, that was built for the Direwolves to be fed and brushed. A small bench was placed, higher off the ground, a ladder leading the way up.
Rickon couldn't contain his excitement, his chubby little legs moving back and forth, similar to Ethons tail.
When [Y/N] finally opens the latch to Ethons cage, she is immediately pushed to the ground by her wolf, whom she was raised alongside.
"Ethon!" She squealed, as the wolf started licking around her face, and hair.
"Ethon!" Rickon shouted, and the wolf immediately ran to the sound of the little boys voice.
When [Y/N] finally got up, she moved to her nephew.
"Silly wolf." Rickon whispered as the wolf gently licked his palm.
"When can i ride him, auntie?"
[Y/N] looked at her nephew, shocked at the question.
"Sweet boy, if you were to ride Ethon anytime soon, you'd been thrown off immediately."
"But, auntie!"
"Enough, dearest nephew. I will not get you hurt. Your father will have my head."
"When will I get my own?" Rickons meek voice asks.
"Perhaps your father will find you one."
The look Rickon gave his aunt made her burst out laughing.
"Rickon, please. Do not make me laugh like that."
As Ethon began to tire, [Y/N] made sure he was nice and snug in his cage once more before closing the cage doors once more.
And a handsome Prince was standing there.
[Y/N] gasped, holding on to her chest, "Prince, you gave me a fright."
The boy gave her a grin, like the one from before. "I'm sorry, Lady Stark, I didn't mean to, just my curiosity got the best of me."
[Y/N] raised a brow.
She received a laugh.
"I meant Winterfell. It's a beautiful place. Though I never expected it to be this cold."
[Y/N] gives him a smile. "Hopefully during your stay you'll finally get used to it. As have the rest of everyone here."
"Though I manage to believe all those Lords inside are warm on rum." Prince Jacaerys nodded towards the entrance.
"Yes, they seemed to be enjoying their night." [Y/N] smiles, walking towards her nephew.
"Hello there." Jacaerys greets the boy.
Rickon, shy like his mother, hides his head in [Y/N]'s neck.
"Yours?"
[Y/N]'s grey eyes grew wide. "Seven Hells, no. This is Rickon, Cregan's first-born."
Jacaerys seemed embarrassed at his assumption. "I'm sorry, i-"
"It's fine, Prince, don't worry such."
Jacaerys smiles at her.
"I have to put him to bed, surely you should be inside..?"
Jacaerys shrugs. "I'm not really a feast person. I prefer sitting out with my dragon."
With the mention of dragon, Rickons head reappeared, looking between the two.
"No, dearest boy, you have has enough adventures tonight." [Y/N] groans.
"I'm sorry, Prince, I have to put him to bed."
Jacaerys eyes had that glint again. "Let me acquaint you. I have nothing to do, I could do with the exploration."
▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎
With Little Rickon tucked his bed, and the small wall candle lit, and window closed,
[Y/N] tip-toed out, closing the door behind her.
"He sure does some talking." Jacaerys laughs.
[Y/N] smiles at him, before the began walking around again.
"So, Prince Jaca-"
"Please, Lady Stark, Jace is fine. I need a break from all those royal titles."
[Y/N] looks at him, and grins. "Then I'm
[Y/N]."
Jacaerys glances her way, a sneaky grin on his face. "You were saying..?"
"Oh," [Y/N] finally snapped out of it.
"As I was saying, why have you came to Winterfell, Cregan never told me, said it was none of my business."
Jacaerys chuckles. "My mother, Rhaenyra is looking for allies, she is wanting to take the Iron Throne, her birth right, back. Her half brother has stolen it. And I'm here to ask Winterfell and Riverrun for the support."
"Seven Hells. I've seen your mother, years ago, she looks beautiful." [Y/N] smiles.
Jacaerys smiles back at her. "Yes, people say she's aged well. Must've been all those babies."
"Jacaerys..! My brother would have my head if I joked around like that."
"Well, you can joke around like that with me, I don't mind." They stop walking by the stair balcony.
"My brother, Lucerys, is shy, like Rickon, but with me, it's all gossip he's heard around Dragonstone."
"Dragonstone, is that your home?"
Jacaerys nods, "Currently, yes. I was born in Kingslanding, as well as my brothers Lucerys and Joffrey. We moved to Dragonstone for safety reasons."
"I could never see myself leave Winterfell. Cregan says I will if I were to marry, but I think I'll stay here, and help raise all of Cregan's heirs." [Y/N] jokes, getting a small laugh out of Jacaerys.
"Is it just you and your brother?" Came that dreading question.
[Y/N] laughs. "There was three of us, but my older brother died young, some sickness took him. And then my father had a thing for brothels. He brought home a bastard child of his. And she lives here, somewhere."
"Me and Cregan joke that there is some other Snows out there, claiming their Stark heritage, its definitely a drinking conversation." [Y/N] laughs.
Their conversation soon ended, and they stood in comfortable silence.
"How long are you to stay, Jace?"
Jacaerys looks at the girl, as she looks at the ongoing feast, held in his name.
"Until my dragon is better, and I get word from my mother about Lucerys' success in his alliance with Storm's End."
"I'll pray for your dear brother, those Baratheons are stupid cunts sometimes."
Jacaerys laughs. "I must head to bed, [Y/N]. I feel a headache coming upon me."
"Goodnight, Jacaerys." [Y/N] smiles at him, as he heads to the other side of the balcony, opening his quarter door, before glancing over again, finding those hypnotising Stark eyes smiling at him.
▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎