«I was the first to notice the tension between Lord Stark and my brother, though, I must admit, I already suspected something when Augustus spent all our travelling time on explaining how amazing this man is. But Augustus was prone to falling in love with almost every man he had met—his standards were quite low, consisting only of getting some attention from so-called love; the bare minimum—and lord Stark didn't seem to me the one to be in idiots, like Augustus. But then there were longing gazes from both of the side, and lingering touches, mixed with warm smiles. An act that was hard to watch, if you ask me. When Cregan finally told me that he loves my brother, I sighed in relief. Fucking finally.»

— From Drusilla Tyrell's diaries.

•

'Are you worrying yourself over Drusilla again?'

Augustus shifts on the chair uncomfortably—window wide open, letting inside the chill air and snowflakes—and sighs.

'Why would I ever worry about someone like her?'

Cregan chuckles behind him. Before Augustus knows, there is a heavy coat thrown on his shoulders, smelling with smouldering fire and forest.

The weather in the North is awful, absolutely nothing compared to the Highgardens, always caressing your skin with rays of sun, and, sometimes, cooling you with winter winds. Augustus has a long way to getting used to this.

'Whatever helps you to keep this thin face of yours.'

Augustus is so busy with gripping the fabric of the coat, cursing all Starks and their indifference to cold weather, that he doesn't even hear the last remark. Gods, just look at this prick, walking around in a single unlaced shirt as if the is summer.

And, by the way, he is not worried about Drusilla. This bitch would probably outlive all of them, anyway. What he worries about is the King's Landings and what is going on here. In the end of the day, dragons are still dragons, they are not to be tamed. Augustus really hopes that Drusilla's bravado comes true, and meanwhile they are all very invested in kneeling his sister.

But, truly, Augustus wished only for one thing: stopping Drusilla from entering this house, even for once.

But his sister is stubborn, and in this quality, she is merciless. And, surprisingly, loyal.

People like her—cold, heartless to some extent, attracted to spilling the blood of others and her own, charmed by chaos, even—rarely love someone so... So sincere. With sacrifices and exceptions.

Augustus tried to keep her away from Aemond Targaryen for so long, yet, Drusilla never faltered. Each time they spoke about him—Augustus hissing on Targaryens, reminding that Aemond is one of them, while she laughed—ended up with his failure.

"I am asking you this question," he meant about changing her interest in this boy, "for five years, yet you give me the same answer."

And Drusilla would lean over the balcony and huff.

"Make it fifty, then. Answer would stay the same anyway."

This tenderness was never something Augustus understand.

Well, until Cregan Stark, at least.

This irresistible, handsome and absolutely clueless man.

They first had met when Augustus was just fifteen, and he was sent to the North for political matters by his father, hoping that it would help his son to mature faster; little did he knew that it wasn't possible.

Cregan was around his age, yet, more independent than Augustus, probably, ever could. He was the son that Lord Tyrell always wanted Augustus to be: strong, determined, isolated from women and people in general, being too invested in becoming a better version of himself. Usually, Augustus would be envious of the person, who made his father proud.

But it was the astonishment that left Augustus speechless.

How handsome he was, and how disinterested he appeared to be, even though Augustus was considered to be a respectable man already, the Sword of Highgardens! But Cregan hardly cared. In general and about everything. And so, Augustus fell.

"Is it the indifference of your father that makes you so attracted to cold people, darling?" Drusilla asked him, when he returned, a little bit emotional after their first meeting. She was sitting on the floor, maps and letters scattered around as she looked up on him, annoyingly amused. "Don't worry, it is fine. Having issues with a father is a—"

He threw the pillow in her head.

And then, Augustus and Cregan started to meet over years regularly. Augustus watched him marrying Arra Norrey, and her giving a birth to Rickon Stark, their son, dying soon after that. Augustus tried to comfort him even, but was quickly humbled down: Cregan, though, caring for his family, hardly was in love with his lady.

It wasn't that hurtful to watch as it might sound; back then, Augustus was more... Easily enchanted by him, but it was nothing too serious. He often found himself in a short relationship with men from different houses, keeping them for a while, until getting bored.

"Look at yourself. Craving for love and comfort, getting in pants of every man, yet so afraid of closure so running away as soon as physical interest changes with something serious," Drusilla mocked him, crooked smile on her face. "Pathetic coward."

...Perhaps, he was.

Unlike his dear sister, Augustus hated going in the depth of anyone's mind, including himself. So he just lived. For some pathetically, but at least, it was bearable.

Until once, it wasn't.

He can't say what happened, but in one moment the North was celebrating some traditional holiday—something about wolves and trees, Augustus barely gave a damn about that—and in a second, him and Cregan were already kissing under the table.

There was nothing more, really.

For his disappointment or surprise.

They just kissed for the whole night, tossing each other to the ground.

Augustus felt... Unfinished. In many ways.

But mostly, because he couldn't consider relationships without sex to be finished properly. It taunted him. Terribly.

So badly that he came to Drusilla with this.

She was already fifteen by that day—technically, seventeen, but, well—freed from the castle, tasting her new life with a big pleasure.

"You are absolutely wrecked," she said to him, irritated.

"So are you, my favourite maniac sister," he hissed in return. "Think of something."

"What exactly do you want me to do? Pretend to be in a relationship with him, so you could fuck him, while he tries to court me?!" As she noticed his serious eyes, she gasped in terror. "No! No fucking way!"

They did that, in the end.

But as usual, everything went wrong.

Augustus assumed Drusilla said something to Cregan, at least, about her not being interested in him, because instead of courting her, he started to court him. He didn't realise it at first. Not when Cregan returned from hunt, throwing a head of the animal under his legs, with low grunt:

"For you."

And returning, to whisper about something with Drusilla.

Who courts like that?! He thought it was a gift for a friend, for sake Gods! What happened with flowers, huh?

It continued for so long that in the end, Drusilla just slapped him across his face with a book. A very big book, he must say.

"You are either fucking him right now or talking. Because I am planning to leave this awful place as soon as it is possible!"

It was fear of the same gestalt that made him bang on Cregan's door that day. Because he knew, Drusilla would leave soon, and then there would be nothing. Again.

But instead of speaking, they were kissing again, and when Cregan fucked him in the mattress, absolutely insanely good, Augustus had no thoughts to speak up beyond whispering his name again and again as he came, twice.

On the morning, when Augustus was ready to run away as usual, absolutely anxious by unwanted feelings, Drusilla dumbfounded him with news. They were staying for another month. He got fooled by her again.

(Little bitch.)

And so, him and Cregan spoke, eventually.

Drusilla left the North completely alone, giggling viciously around them, never missing the opportunity to tease them. Somehow, it is only Augustus that tried to scold her for that; Cregan either shrugged or agreed with her. Traitor.

'Your sister can give a hard time to every existing person ever,' Cregan tears him off from thoughts, humming, pushing the cup of tea in his cold hands. 'We should be more worried about Targaryens, in fact.'

Augustus scoffs, nodding gratefully.

'You are not wrong,' he agrees. 'But I hate those guys. So fuck them. I hope Drusilla will torture them all their lives.'

Instead of smiling, Cregan slowly puts chin on Augustus's head, arms looping around his neck, a little hug from behind. His voice is thoughtful as he speaks:

'Not all of them are bad... And I think Drusilla realises it, too.'

Augustus hums, absolutely uninterested in this. He likes listening Cregan's voice, even when he speaks some bullshit. Especially, about Targaryens. So, he simply relaxes in his hands, closing his eyes.

'...You don't listen, do you?'

'Mhm... You are so right, darling.'

'...You and your sister truly deserve each other.'

'My husband is the wisest...'

'Idiot.'

•

Cregan doesn't remember his first impression on Drusilla Tyrell. Admittedly, he was too focused on glaring at Augustus, whose blue icy eyes met everything and anyone but him as if their make out met nothing. But he remembers their first serious talk, without stupid games she so likes to play or fake masks she enjoys wearing.

It was the night before Drusilla went to the Dragonstone, ready to meet another potential husband of hers—somehow, despite not knowing Jacaerys Velaryon, he was sure that Drusilla would dislike him—and Augustus was asleep, when she came in his room, telling him what she thought about Targaryens.

She had a point, that Cregan admits even now.

But he bowed to the Blacks long ago, and even if everything goes wrong, he would still be obligated to choose them. That is how his loyalty works. How he lives. Drusilla sighed back then.

"I know, it is a hard thing for you. But I am not planning to hurt them, you know? In fact, as I will finish, Rhaenyra would be happier than ever."

Cregan only raised his eyebrows.

"And how could you know the outcomes, ha?"

"Because this sister knows the best," she simply shrugged, and there was something in this smile that, Cregan knew, made people die for her.

In truth, Cregan hardly cares about what is happening in other territory. Of course, it is important to keep a track of what is going on, but... But the North is independent. They don't need anyone to continue to live like they want to. It is other houses that ask for their help, not opposite way.

"Why you are so stubbornly planning to sit on the Iron Throne?"

Drusilla smirked.

"Because I can, of course."

Something in her words made Cregan believe that she is right. That she can do that. She can, and in fact, she will.

"You know, it was dragons that made Targaryens kings," Drusilla started as she stood up. "But I am not Targaryen. I don't need dragons to become the Queen."

With this, Cregan gave up, allowing her to use his name in the negotiations. He hasn't promised her to fight for her, but simply... Using as a bluff. And when the letter had finally returned this morning, Augustus jumping around like a kid, he knew that she was right.

She can.

She can be the Queen.

'Unbelievable. My sister will rule the fucking realm,' Augustus mutters, rereading the letter over and over again, absolutely happy. 'Cregan! Do you hear that?'

He likes Augustus like this the most: smiling, happy and contain as he doesn't try to hide behind the role of serious lord that doesn't fit him at all. Unserious, not pretending to be something he is not.

He fell exactly in this version of him.

Truth to be told, their first minutes of spending together were absolutely unbearable. Augustus, with his sharp chin high, listed his titles one by one, too self-aware, even for a normal person. Cregan, and Gods had seen, disliked people like this.

But then, as Augustus thought he was alone, he accidentally slipped on the ice, starting to cuss and tap his leg as a little kid, leaving Cregan absolutely stunned.

What a man. What a stupid, yet precious man.

It fits Augustus more: being childish.

Cregan didn't know how to show his emotions properly. So he tried to meet with Augustus as soon as possible, hoping that he will understand the hint; Cregan never called anyone to the North, unless worked asked so. And he even asked advices from his wife—Arra was a good woman, and she knew of his feelings—but Augustus either was too clueless for his affection or just lacking interest in him.

When Augustus brought his sister to marry, Cregan thought that he will strangle him down in that exact place.

How man can be so stupid—

But Drusilla calmed him down, telling everything.

And Cregan realised that they are doomed to be together. Because, obviously, he is the stubborn one, and Augustus is too dumb to catch the attention of anyone but him.

"Please, forgive him, Lord Stark... He is stupid."

Oh, Augustus was.

So easy to show off, only to be so insecure in the end.

Cregan wanted to kiss him, so he could, at least, shut the fuck up.

(And because his lips are so soft and gentle, even the amount of people touching them before Cregan, couldn't change that.)

'You are a Lord of the North,' Cregan reminds him. 'You too, a King of some sort.'

'Firstly, unofficially,' Augustus retorts, folding the letter in two, hiding it among many others he from his sister. 'Secondly, you don't have the Iron Throne, right?'

He rolls his eyes, absolutely annoyed as he pushes Augustus on his lap, gaining a light yelp.

'Isn't my lap enough, Augustus?'

The tip of his ears blush, and Cregan laughs in his shoulder.

'Shut up...'

A beautiful, beautiful man.

His man.

"You choose such a pathetic boy to love," Drusilla told him once. "He is shy deep inside, has no idea how much his parents hurt him, and can't stand the idea of being alone."

"And?" He answered.

He thought she tries to talk him out of it.

But instead, Drusilla growled:

"Just try to hurt him, and I am going tear you down in a way none of yours wolves could."

He thinks it is only fair.

All men that hurt Augustus should die. Better sooner than later. With this, they both agree.

'I see, the lap of this one seems unsatisfying for the respectable Sword of the H–'

And oh, how nicely Augustus kiss when he is mad.

A/N: In books, Cregan has a three wives and bunch of kids, but I changed it a little bit, lmao. Also, they are gay and stupid. That is it. That is the chapter.

Also, we have three chapters left! :) And the new Daemon fanfic will start soon... Will you be interested in that?