The Forgotten Visenya (HOTD)(GOT)(Cregan Stark)

Tension and Temptation

Winterfell's days were growing shorter, the cold intensifying with each passing week. As the castle prepared for the deeper chill of winter, its inhabitants moved with a sense of urgency and purpose. For Visenya, the days had taken on a different rhythm, one marked by an undeniable tension that seemed to hang in the air like the frost on the windows.

Despite her efforts to maintain her composure, Visenya found herself increasingly distracted by Cregan. The more she tried to avoid him, the more her mind fixated on his presence. She couldn't help but notice the way his strong hands moved with practiced ease as he polished his sword, the rhythmic motion almost hypnotic. The sight of him in the forge, his muscles flexing and his brow furrowed in concentration, sent a jolt of desire through her.

At meals, the tension was almost palpable. Cregan's gaze would linger on her, his eyes tracing the contours of her exposed skin, from the curve of her neck to the line of her collarbone. Every time she took a sip from her goblet or adjusted her position, she could feel his eyes on her, as though he was silently mapping every inch of her.

Visenya tried her best to avoid these encounters, taking her meals at a different table or slipping away from the main hall as quickly as possible. Yet, it was impossible to escape the electric atmosphere that seemed to follow her wherever she went. During their conversations, Cregan's voice carried a deeper timbre, laden with unspoken words. His proximity made it difficult for her to focus, her senses overwhelmed by the magnetic pull between them.

One evening, the dining hall was particularly lively, the warmth from the fire and the laughter of the guests creating a stark contrast to the chill outside. Visenya sat at the edge of the long table, doing her best to remain engaged in conversation, but her gaze kept drifting toward Cregan, who sat at the head of the table.

Cregan's eyes met hers across the room, and a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. He seemed to take pleasure in watching her discomfort, his attention unwavering as he drank from his goblet, the movement of his lips a source of silent torment for Visenya.

Every now and then, their eyes would lock, the shared glances charged with a heat that made her pulse quicken. She could feel the intensity of his gaze even when she looked away, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and desire. The space between them seemed to crackle with unspoken promises, each moment stretching longer and longer.

At one point, Cregan rose from his seat and moved toward her with deliberate steps. His approach was slow, measured, and filled with an intent that left no room for misunderstanding. As he reached her side, he leaned in close, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down her spine.

"Trying to avoid me, are we?" he asked, his breath warm against her ear.

Visenya's heart raced as she struggled to find her voice. "I—no, that's not—"

Cregan's hand brushed against hers as he reached for a serving dish, the fleeting contact igniting a spark between them. "I don't believe you," he said softly. "It seems like you're very aware of me these days."

Visenya swallowed hard, her mind scrambling for a response. "It's just... the tension, Cregan. It's hard to ignore."

A knowing smile curved on his lips. "Tension? Or desire?"

She felt a flush of heat spread across her face. "You know that's not fair," she whispered, unable to meet his gaze.

Cregan's expression was a mix of amusement and longing. "I think it's more than fair. You're not the only one struggling with this."

Before she could respond, a servant arrived with more food, interrupting their exchange. Cregan's hand lingered near hers for a moment longer, his touch a lingering promise of what might be. He returned to his seat, his gaze never leaving her.