A storm in the north | cregan stark

16

As they embarked on their walk through Winterfell's vast grounds, Cregan took the opportunity to guide her through the various structures and workings of the castle. With each step, he shared insights into the history and traditions of House Stark, pointing out significant landmarks and detailing the castle's layout, their first stop was the glass gardens, a marvel hidden within the castle's walls, Aelora's eyes widened in wonder as they entered the lush sanctuary, filled with vibrant greenery and colorful blooms.

"It's beautiful," Aelora remarked, a hint of awe in her voice as she took in the sight of the flourishing vegetation. Despite the chill in the air outside, the glass gardens were warm and inviting, the sunlight filtering through the glass panes to create a cozy atmosphere.

Cregan nodded in agreement, his gaze sweeping over the verdant landscape. "The glass gardens are one of Winterfell's treasures," he explained. "They provide us with fresh fruits and vegetables year-round, even during the harshest winters."

Aelora marveled at the ingenuity of the glass gardens, realizing that they were not only a source of sustenance but also a symbol of resilience against the unforgiving northern climate. "How do they stay warm?" she asked, turning to Cregan with curiosity.

Cregan smiled, pleased by her interest. "Winterfell was built over natural hot springs," he revealed. "The warmth from the springs is channeled into the glass gardens, allowing the plants to thrive even in the coldest of seasons."

As they walked through the expansive courtyard of Winterfell, Cregan led Aelora towards the heart of the castle, where the godswood awaited. The towering ancient trees and the tranquil atmosphere immediately caught Aelora's attention.

As they walked deeper into the godswood, Aelora found herself drawn to the serene atmosphere, the towering heart tree standing as a silent sentinel amidst the surrounding greenery.

"It's beautiful here," she remarked, her voice soft with reverence as she glanced up at the ancient tree.

Cregan nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning the tranquil surroundings. "Aye, it's a place of peace and reflection," he replied, his tone tinged with reverence. "Many decisions have been made beneath these branches."

Aelora observed the intricate carvings on the weirwood's gnarled trunk, the crimson leaves whispering ancient secrets in the breeze. "Do you come here often?" she inquired, turning her gaze back to Cregan.

"Whenever I seek guidance or solace," he confessed, his expression solemn yet thoughtful. "The godswood has a way of grounding me, reminding me of my place in the world."

Aelora nodded, understanding the significance of the sacred grove to the Stark family. "It feels... peaceful here," she observed, her gaze wandering over the moss-covered stones and the delicate tracery of branches above.

As they strolled beneath the ancient branches of the godswood, Cregan's curiosity led him to inquire about Aelora's beliefs. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns on the ground as they walked. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, adding a serene ambiance to their conversation.

"Do you follow the Faith of the Seven, being from the south?" Cregan's voice broke the tranquil silence, his tone genuinely interested.

Aelora turned her gaze toward him, her eyes reflecting the dappling light. She shook her head gently, a small smile playing on her lips. "No," she began, her voice soft yet resolute, "I was born in Caelia and was raised for most of my childhood there, until my uncle, the King, took me in."

"Caelia?" Cregan repeated, intrigued. "I've heard tales of the free city, but I've never traveled there myself."

"It's a diverse land, with many cultures and religions," Aelora explained, her voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "Among them, the most followed are the Old Gods of Valyria and the God of Light."