𝒞REGAN 𝔖TARK

When your daughter was born, Cregan insisted on being by your side, despite the raised eyebrows and murmurs of tradition. It was not something a man usually did, but you wanted him there, needed his strength, and so he stayed. His hand was a steady presence through the pain, his voice low and calming as he whispered words of encouragement.

When your daughter’s first cries filled the room, you saw a rare emotion flicker in his eyes — pure, unguarded love. He held her, so tiny in his large hands, with a reverence that took your breath away, and you knew then that he would move mountains for her, for both of you.

Now, as parents, you see that love in everything he does. Cregan is a towering figure, broad and strong, yet when it comes to your little girl, he is all gentleness. She has him wrapped around her tiny fingers, and there is nothing he would not do for her. You have watched him cradle her in his arms, her small head nestled against his chest as he hums the softest lullabies, a sound that no one else would believe could come from the stern Lord of Winterfell.

And it is not just in the quiet moments. Even when the demands of his position call, when he is buried in the weight of his responsibilities, he never turns her away. She has wandered into council meetings more times than you can count, her curious little eyes taking in the stern faces and serious tones. But instead of sending her away, Cregan simply lifts her into his lap, his expression softening as he gives her a look that clearly tells her to sit quietly. She knows better than to make a sound, content just to be near him, and he continues with his duties, a proud father even in the midst of his lordly obligations.

*And he has made it clear — he wants more. More heirs, more children, more of this life that has brought him a happiness he never expected. *