Lord Husband

Chapter 10

You hardly see him for weeks. Any new wife would expect her husband to impress his needs upon her frequently after the wedding night in hopes of creating an heir but you almost knew he wouldn't. There's something so strange about Cregan Stark; he's empathetic. It's not a trait you knew any man could hold. In reality, you should be pleased that your husband doesn't wish to rape you but you're more frustrated. He shall want for a son eventually, won't he? This is only delaying the inevitable and you are a 'get it over with' kind of woman.

You arrive at his chambers with little more than a knock on the door. "Do you not wish for an heir, Lord Stark?"

"Good morning." He murmurs, looking up from the papers on his desk.

"An heir? Is it your wish or not?" You say, disregarding his greeting.

He sighs, already stressed from reading over land disputes and not wishing to be stressed over his petulant wife. "Of course I want for a son."

"You haven't visited my chambers in weeks."

"I did not think you wanted me to." He looks at you, confused and a bit sorrowful.

"There is only one way to make a child."
Gods he thinks you look so like a child when you stand there with such false assurance. It makes him feel wretched.

"You weeped the last time I took you to bed. I have been trying to give you time so that you might... recover?" The words don't feel right to him. "I don't want to cause you pain."

"Lying with you caused me no feelings of
importance."

Cregan counts to ten in his head but only makes it to five. He then stands abruptly.

"You will watch your tone when you speak to me!" He says, fed up with your lack of decorum.

You gape at him like a fish. He went from so pitiful to angry so quickly.

"I have done all I can to make you comfortable, all I can to make you feel welcomed and at every turn, you insult me! You have spent your entire life as the spoilt daughter of the Queen and for that, I do not blame you but I can only be so lenient. You will no longer take liberties with how you speak to me. I am your husband and you will learn to treat me as such." He breathes heavily after letting all his emotions go. "Even princesses don't speak to their spouses in the way you speak to me."

"I'm not your wife by choice. I didn't want this." You protest in justification of your own cruelty.

He scoffs. "And do you think I did?"

"You asked for my hand."

"Her Grace offered me your hand."

"You could've said no."

"Is that truly what you think? Are you really so naive as to believe that? Everyone of our station marries for advantage. I am no different and neither are you." Even when he shouted at you only moments ago, he never sounded as hateful as he does right now.

"And you're happy with this standard?" You ask with level headed contemplation.

"Of course I'm not but it's what is done."

"It isn't fair for you to fault me for wanting something more when you're also unhappy with it... especially when you know it's more difficult for women than men." You desperately want him to understand you. You just want somebody to understand.

"We all make sacrifices for the people we love." He says dutifully.

"I make the sacrifices while my brothers marry for love. How is that fair?"

"So you're bitter? Prince Jacaerys will be king one day. That's a much greater sacrifice than marrying for advantage."

The tears prickle in your eyes. You should've known.

"At least he won't be alone."

You don't want to argue anymore, or rather be scolded like a dumb child so you leave, striding back to your room.

You stare into the mirror when you arrive. Would your mother be disappointed by how disagreeable you are, how disobedient? Daemon wouldn't. But you aren't Daemon Targaryen. You're just a girl, a girl that might ruin an alliance if you can't make nice with your husband. Should you care? Your stepfather wouldn't. Dragon riders don't obey societal norms... but you do care... ever so slightly.

~~~

A voice at the door. Does he want to be let in only so he can say a hundred words that mean so little?

"Enter."

Your husband, tall and strong walks into the room, reminding you of someone you used to know. He's kind and brave like him.

"I should not have shouted at you. I just feel as though I'm not heard when I'm quiet but that is no justification." He stares at the back of your head. You don't turn to face him, looking out the window instead of at the mirror. This is your home now. He will become your home - he could become your home.

"If I walked out the door right now and never came back, would you try and stop me?" You aren't angry about his shouting; you're used to fire.

"No."

"It would destroy the alliance. You could side with the Hightowers or simply just watch as they take my mother's throne."

"You could walk out that door, get on your dragon and never come back and I would keep my oath to the Queen."

Gods he really is decent.

"Where would you go?" He asks like you haven't just said you might run out on your marriage.

"Old Valyria."

"You would die."

"I would."

...

"I'm not sorry for making things difficult for you but I acknowledge that I have."

He smiles a bit woefully. "I wouldn't expect anything less, princess."

"Any woman in Westeros would consider herself lucky to be your wife."

"Hmm... almost any it seems."