Blood Upon The Snow ||| Cregan Stark

twenty

Many a tale would come from Jacaera's time in Winterfell. It was just a matter of what was true.

Lord Cregan did return to shoot with Jacaera. And she quite possibly was a better shot than him. He preferred swords.

Jacaera made it clear that he would most definitely beat her in that regard. She'd held swords and swung them. But she'd never trained with them.

She had a dragon, he reasoned. If he had a dragon, he wouldn't bother with swords either.

When they were done, Lord Cregan took Jacaera into the Godswood. It was massive, much bigger than the one in the Red Keep.

It made sense, though. Starks had worshipped the Old Gods for thousands of years. The ancient godswood and weirwood tree were important.

The tightly-packed trees created somewhat of a canopy and safe haven from the snow outside. It was beautiful.

But the weirwood tree was almost haunting. At the heart of the forest, the massive tree stood tall with a face carved into it. The tree also stood before a pool of black water.

Despite not worshipping any gods, Jacaera was still respectful. She was quiet as she admired the godswood, listened to Lord Cregan explain its history.

"Many weddings have been held by this tree."

Something about the way he said it made Jacaera glance back at him. He was looking at her. Not the tree or the water.

She looked back toward the tree and smiled to herself, running her fingers along the carved face. Jacaera only hummed in response.

"And what of Targaryens? How do dragons and gods marry?" Cregan asked. He knew there was a ceremony that Targaryens partook in, one that didn't follow the 7 or the Old Gods.

Maybe there was more intention behind it. But he told himself he was curious.

Jacaera almost laughed. Gods. Without dragons, they were just like everyone else. But she did have a dragon. So where did that truly leave her?

"Well..." Jacaera said, turning to the lord. She approached him. "Some choose to marry in the ways of Old Valyria. Wed by blood and fire. It doesn't require many things. Wine, something sharp, cloth, and fire."

Cregan tilted his head as Jacaera took his hand. "You would have a Valyrian steel dagger. Or any dagger, since we don't make Valyrian steel anymore. You'd use the dagger to cut my lip—" Jacaera brought his hand up to her face, his thumb on her lip, "—and mark my forehead."

He moved his hand that time, pressing his thumb to her forehead.

"Then I would take the dagger and do the same. Cut your lip—" Jacaera touched his lower lip. He let her. "—and mark your forehead." She brought her hand up to his forehead and touched him tenderly.

Jacaera then took his left hand with her right and turned it over, holding the back of his hand with her other hand. "You'd use the dagger to cut your palm..." Jacaera traced a diagonal line across Cregan's gloved hand. "And I'd do the same."

She brought their hands together, palm to palm. "Cloth would be tied around our hands and the officiant would say the vows in High Valyrian." Jacaera gave him an example of the beginning of the vows.