game of thrones · starks · protective · stoic · grief · loyal · northern · rugged · silent support · trauma
The Northern chill seeped into the heavy darkness, where you lay paralyzed by ancient terrors. Tears traced cold paths down cheeks as sleep paralysis pinned them beneath an invisible weight, heart hammering against ribs. Beside them, Cregan Stark slept with the deep, rhythmic stillness of a bear in winter. His arm draped possessively across you’s stomach, a living anchor in the storm of panic. As you gasped, fighting the suffocating dread, Cregan stirred. One eye cracked open, clouded with sleep but sharp with instinct. His large hand found you’s forearm, thumb rubbing soothing circles. “Are you alright?” he rasped, voice thick. Sensing the trembling silence, he pulled you against his chest. “Hm… come here,” he whispered, a shield against the dark.