A Dragon Kissed by Sun Chapter 1-8 (Dragon Dreams) (Patreon)

Chapter 1 (A Promise)

Eddard Stark

Ned Stark always called himself a man of honour all his life. He always thought that his big brother Brandon Stark would be the lord of Winterfell. As for himself, he always thought he would marry a lady from a house and spend his life with her and help his brother whenever he needed his help. In The Tourney of Harrenhal, he meets the girl that took his breath away. Lady Ashara Dayne.

He remembered that he couldn't stop staring at her; she was the most beautiful woman in the realm with haunting violet eyes. But no matter how much he tried, he couldn't take the courage to ask her for a simple dance. His brother never had problems with asking ladies.

Thanks to his brother, he got a dance with the beautiful lady. After that night, he met with her a few more times. He promised her that they would marry, and a Stark always had honour. But when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen kidnapped my sister. My big brother went to King's Landing demanding the prince's head without any actual proof, but just rumours.

Rickard Stark went to King's Landing to free my brother, but they burned in King's Landing.

The Mad King called for the head of Robert Baratheon and Ned Stark, and the kidnapping of Lyanna Stark started the Rebellion. And Ned was forced to Marry Lady Catelyn Tully, the lady who was supposed to marry his brother, to have House Tully's support. He broke his promise to his love.

As usual, Eddard Stark was with the Northern forces when he saw Mors Umber losing both his sons. He watched this man, a seasoned warrior belonging to the faithful House Umber, sinking to his knees, hiding tears behind a torrent of insults and swear words. A royalist knight pierced the chest of the eldest boy, and several bolts stopped the youngest as he was charging on his garron.

They went on, despite the heat, despite the tiredness that overwhelmed them and made the rattling of steel against the plate unbearable. On the riverbanks, there were corpses, dead horses, and forgotten weapons everywhere. Then, there were bodies floating on the Green Fork, drifting slowly with the current, cloaks billowing with the water and the gusts of wind, mimicking the sails, turning them into derisory boats.

Rumours spread quicker than he thought on a battlefield; when Ser Lyn Corbray led a charge against the Dornishmen and broke them, they learned the news immediately, even if they were on the opposite side of the rebel host. However, everyone's attention got back to the Trident, precisely to the ford where peasants and merchants used to cross with their goods, a place that was part of the battlefield, that day.

"Robert is facing Rhaegar!" one of the Manderlys shouted. "They're fighting in the water."

He had no time to think about it or to worry about Robert, though. Ser Barristan Selmy and a group of men who had survived the Battle of the Bells resisted them fiercely. Ned tightened his grip on the pommel of his swords and parried the blows of the Crownlands knight in front of him before countering. The knight was bathed in sweat, and Ned thought he was just as dishevelled as him. He nevertheless kept on swinging his sword, waiting for his enemy to get tired, but the knight, whoever he was, didn't give up. They avoided a dead horse, his opponent leapt over a wounded man who feebly asked for help, and their dance went on, regardless of their ragged breath, regardless of Eddard's heart beating wildly.

"Are you the Stark boy?" the knight finally asked him.

"I'm Lord Eddard Stark," he replied before realising it was the first time he introduced himself this way.

Suddenly, Ice felt more natural in his hands, and his next blow was stronger, making the knight dizzy.

"Son of Lord Rickard Stark." The ancient sword hit the royalist's thigh, and the man winced in pain. "Lady Lyanna Stark's brother."

A cry escaped the knight's lips when Ice dug into his abdomen, and his longsword hit the ground with a thud. Eddard heard a cracking noise while they both panted and braced themselves as hard as they could, holding the sword. Eddard's hands on the hilt, the knight's bloodied fingers on the blade, and after a never-ending wait, the man gave up and collapsed on the grass. Ned had to start over to pull off the valyrian steel from his midsection, and he finally looked around him, out of breath, wondering how long he could go on like this.

He didn't see any royalist at first except two dozen who were already dead and laid on the riverbank. The Northerners he was with crowded themselves around a mounted boy who served House Baratheon, then Jon Umber caught sight of him and called Eddard. He ran to the group.

"Lord Stark!" the mounted youth exclaimed, pulling the reins of his restless horse. He must have shouted and screamed for hours, for his voice was hoarse and croaky. "It's over, m'lord! Robert killed Rhaegar."

Eddard didn't reply and let the Northerners around him rejoice themselves; he was mulling over the man's last words. Robert killed Rhaegar. He couldn't realise what it meant and all the consequences. Robert killed Rhaegar. His friend's voices were muffled, barely audible as if he was underwater; an unusual grin enlightened Rickard Karstark's face while all the Northerners exulted. Jon Umber wiped the mix of blood and sweat covering his forehead; Eddard could read on his curling lips that Umber was saying something, but he couldn't guess what. Rhaegar is dead. His thoughts went back to the Tourney and to Lyanna. He can't hurt Lyanna anymore. Then a realisation dawned upon him. How are we going to find her, now that he can't tell us where he kept her?

As far as he remembered, he had never really trusted Roose Bolton, though he couldn't say where this wariness came from. Of course, the man had once implied he loved the tradition of the first night, and some people reported with a frightened look he demanded that the peasant girls spend their wedding night in his keep of Dreadfort, but some of the Mountain clans kept the same brutish tradition as well. That was the kind of stories Benjen and Lyanna told themselves on long stormy nights, shivering next to an enormous fireplace. Is it something about his eyes? Eddard couldn't tell, but when Howland confessed to him he didn't like Bolton either, his friend's intuition strengthened his opinion on his Bannerman. At least, I have one good reason to distrust him now.

Ser Barristan Selmy had been severely wounded near the end of the battle, and, as he was a well-known member of the Kingsguard, Robert could have commanded to finish him off. Bolton would have volunteered, Eddard was sure about that, or he could have decided to let him die. Bolton had advised Robert to kill Selmy, whereas Eddard had spoken out against that possibility, reminding Robert of the knight's numerous feats of arms.

They were in Robert's tent, and Robert was lying on some bedroll his squire had put on the ground. He was wounded after his single combat with Rhaegar, and though he would heal soon, the after-effects of the battle made him look as weak as a child. The maester, a youth hardly escaped from the Citadel, was tending to his wounds, eliciting a few swearwords from time to time; Bolton and Eddard glared at each other and sharpened their arguments. After another plea, Eddard convinced Robert to let Selmy live, but Robert himself chose to send him the maester as soon as the man would be done with him. Roose Bolton's cold, pale eyes glistened with anger; he swallowed his pride, wished Robert a speedy recovery, and left.

"The supercilious Lord of Dreadfort," Robert commented, wincing as he tried to lean on his elbows. He soon gave up and collapsed on his pallet.

"Don't you think he's pretty cheeky?" Eddard complained, barely containing his anger. "He contradicted me as if I was his peer. I'm not his peer."

Despite his condition, Robert gave a hint of a shrug and repressed a smile.

"I'm sorry, but he's your bannerman," he said, pretending to lecture Eddard. "As the Warden of the North, it's your job to make Bolton obey."

Robert's slight frowning was so funny Ned couldn't help a chuckle.

"You should be proud, Ned. I thought Bolton was some cold-blooded animal, but you pissed him off in a way he almost showed his emotions."

Ned cackled again. Let's do this. Let's laugh when he makes a jape. We'll stay friends as long as we content ourselves with delight, with the mere surface of things. I shouldn't delve into the essential with him, or we would argue instantly. He left Robert with the persistent feeling he had already lost his friend.

The smallfolk began to wade in the ford as the body count rose and as maesters hurried on the battlefield, trying to help those who still could be saved. In the meanwhile, the rebels mourned their dead. To Eddard's great astonishment, the story about Robert and Rhaegar's single combat had spread in the countryside, and people kept saying Robert's war-hammer had destroyed the Crown Prince's breastplate, sending the rubies adorning his armour in the water. On his way to Robert's tent, Eddard stopped and watched them as they trudged in the muddy water, breeches rolled up to their knees, scrutinising the river bed, but he doubted they could find anything else than human bodies or discarded weapons.

Arryn turned back and called him.

"We shouldn't make him wait, Ned. There is news from King's Landing, I think."

Eddard sighed, but Arryn's reproachful tone didn't give him a choice; he followed him with a preoccupied air, wondering what the news could be. A negotiation with King Aerys seemed very unlikely, let alone a surrender. When they entered Robert's tent, he was still on his bedroll, leaning against a heap of furs instead of pillows and a bandage half-covered his broad chest. Robert greeted them, told them to sit on the stools displayed by his squire, then got straight to the point.

"We can't waste time," he announced. "Rhaegar's death doesn't mean the end of this war; as long as the king's bony ass is sitting on the Iron Throne..."

What about Lyanna?

"Anyway, ravens arrived early this morning, and here are the news. Rhaella and his son are on their way to Dragonstone. However, Elia of Dorne and her children are still in the Red Keep. Aerys ordered preparations throughout King's Landing."

"What kind of preparations?"

"We don't know," Robert replied, heaving a sigh. "That's my point. We can't stay here any longer. And... I received news from the Westerlands. Tywin Lannister gathered his host and is heading to the capital. No need to say that Aerys begged for his help."

"It couldn't have been worse," Arryn said, getting on his feet and pacing back and forth.

"I heard that Aerys had asked for his help weeks ago," Robert went on, "and this Lannister bastard had turned a deaf ear, but... it sounds like he changed his mind. We need to stop them. If Tywin arrives in King's Landing before us, we're fucked up. If the remains of the royal army and the Lannister host can use the preparations Aerys already made, we're fucked up."

Robert ran his fingers through his brown hair and stared at Eddard.

"You're the one in charge, now. This fucking maester says I won't be able to ride before a few days, and we can't wait this long. You'll command the host, Ned."

Command the host. Be in charge. His head was pounding.

After a while, after the urge of shouting and protesting that he was not qualified for all this stopped tormenting him, he pondered on Robert's decision and realised leading the host had an advantage. A tremendous advantage. As long as he would be in charge, Eddard would not allow any unnecessary violence.

Elia Martell

She heard the screams of terror through the door. Her Rhaegar had died in the Trident, and he had fallen. The man she loved. She wanted to cry and mourn for him, but she knew all was over. She prayed Ser Jaime would be the one to come through the door. She knew he would protect them even from his own father's men. She looked down at her baby boy. Aegon was crying and has started for hours now. His cheeks were red, and so were his eyes.

Elia wanted to calm him; she leaned closer to his face and kissed his cheek. She tried her hardest to try and look strong for her child. Aegon would cry even more if he saw her crying; Elia knew that. She will be brave for her child.

Rhaenys had hidden in the Rhaegar's solar. She left when the screams of suffering and pain were heard through the door. She tried to stop her, but Aegon was in her hands and couldn't stop her from leaving the chamber. Elia's mind went to Lya; she hoped she would be safe with Jaehaerys. She could feel that it would be a boy, not a girl, like Rhaegar thought.

She heard the footsteps coming to the door, a shout was heard, and then the door burst open, almost fell to the floor. Walking inside was a monster. He was taller and bigger than any man she had seen before. His armour was covered in blood in his hands, and his sword was wet with fresh blood. Elia's heart stopped for a moment. Seeing the man, she knew this was the end. Jaime wouldn't come. Hot tears were in her eyes, and she couldn't hold them anymore. She pulled Aegon behind her to protect him.

"Everything will be alright, my little dragon", she whispered with a melodic tone as tears were streaming down her cheek.

Oberyn and Doran will take revenge; my brothers, please love Jaehaerys. It is not his fault, Elia thought. As the monster was walking towards her, his eyes were like a monster, with no feelings.

Jaehaerys, my son; I know one day you will have the throne. Burn all The Lannister, my son.

Eddard Stark

Long before the host reached the high walls surrounding King's Landing, he noticed the plumes of smoke concealing the roofs, wreathing the towers in their greyish embrace and curling in the clear sky. His men, the brave soldiers who had faced the royal army in Stoney Sept and at the Trident before making this forced march, began to exchange puzzled looks and to whisper. They didn't understand what they saw, and, at first, he shook his head in bewilderment, remembering what Robert had said about the 'preparations' King Aerys had ordered throughout the town and the harbour. Were these fires in the largest city of the realm the consequences of the king's lunacy? Only a sick mind could plan the destruction of the capital, which would kill thousands of innocent people.

However, as Howland and he scanned the horizon, they remembered the tales about Aerys' fascination for fire, especially for wildfire, and Ned realised the dark plumes of smoke were not consistent with what one could expect from the king's precious pyromancers.

When Aerys had chosen Lord Rossart, a member of the Alchemists' Guild, to be his new hand a few days earlier, the king had put all his hopes in someone who wouldn't fight like Jon Connington, nor temporise like Owen Merryweather. Rossart had never held a sword before and wasn't famous for his political skills, but he knew more about wildfire than anyone else in the Seven Kingdoms. Still, this can't be wildfire.

Wildfire would burn everything and illuminate the sky with uncanny green hues, blinding the Stark forces as well as the inhabitants. Eddard imagined a terrible heat, charred corpses, and an infernal landscape that would give the Seven Hells a foretaste. What he saw from the hills overlooking the capital was frightening yet altogether different: the fires were numerous, but they didn't spread in the city. The plumes of smoke were dark, too dark to result from wildfire, and the sequence of events disconcerted him, as well: Aerys was mad, but he was smart enough to wait for the rebel forces before setting fire to the city. Destroying his enemies obsessed him, and Ned took the king's grudge toward the Northerners seriously. He wouldn't let us escape if he ever had a chance to kill us unless someone else who chose the traditional way over the occult sciences set fire to King's Landing.

Shifting on his saddle, he turned to Howland Reed and Wyman Manderly.

"Tywin Lannister," he said flatly.

Brow furrowed, the two young lords looked back at him; while Howland slowly regained his impassible expression as soon as he processed Ned's words, Wyman Manderly cursed in astonishment.

"Tywin fucking Lannister? Seven buggering Hells, Eddard... This would be his... work? It doesn't make sense!"

"On the contrary," Howland replied, shivering despite the warm sun, "it makes sense. Do you think someone like Tywin Lannister would choose to die for a lost cause? For a king who rejected his daughter as a possible match for the Crown Prince? Aerys humiliated Tywin Lannister and this, my lords, is his revenge. He's burning the city where his daughter was supposed to marry."

"Burning a city such as King's Landing is crazy," Manderly protested, an incredulous smile on his face.

"Call it retaliation, then. Gods, we're not listening to the Rains of Castamere. We're watching this song."

Releasing the reins for a heartbeat, the Crannogman showed the city with a sweeping gesture. Then he set his green eyes on the pillars of smoke darkening the mid-afternoon sky as a strange expression crept over his triangular face.

"King Aerys will die before sunset," he announced.

Eddard glanced at Wyman Manderly, eager to watch his bannerman's reaction: disbelief lingered on his features, and he swallowed hard, but he didn't criticise Howland's prediction, for once. No matter how the other lords rolled their eyes in annoyance, every time Howland foretold an event, he was right.

"We can't waste time, then. Ned, what do you think?"

"We should hurry."

Trying to forget the stiffness he felt in his back because he lacked sleep and couldn't stand his breastplate anymore, Eddard turned to look at his men: tired but disciplined, the Northerners, the Tully, and Baratheon hosts formed an endless column in the green landscape of the Crownlands, stretching to the horizon. Knights, horse riders from the North, with their mounts, foot soldiers from every part of the realm questioned the Targaryen king: their features showed the same resigned weariness wherever they came from. Where do I lead this army? As he didn't have an answer, he let his horse feel his spurs and hurtled down the hill.

He had been clear when he had given his orders insistent and even uncompromising with Roose Bolton, in fact, and demanded a behaviour beyond reproach. No killing, no looting would be tolerated, and he encouraged his men to know any abuse toward women or children. Once more, he had stared at the pale Lord of Dreadfort, who cleaned his fingernails with his dagger to stave off boredom.

His men had followed his instructions to the letter, but Ned couldn't tell if they were obedient soldiers or if the sight of corpses lying on the burning ruins of the capital had upset them as much as it devastated him. By the time they crossed the Gate of the Gods, the Lannister host had caused more damages than any other disaster since Aegon had founded King's Landing. The Seven, whose solemn faces carved in white stone framed the Gate of the Gods, reminded the travellers that the Faith protected the city, but it seemed they had forgotten the inhabitants.

By his side, Howland cringed on his saddle every time they moved past a burnt house or a heap of bodies. Nothing prepared him to see slaughtered people, Eddard mused. Not that he was hardened compared to his friend, but Crannogmen lived a simple life; they fished, they hunted, they sometimes fought against the harsh environment of the Neck, but they didn't fight their fellow men. Northerners grew up with the terrifying stories of battles against the Wildlings or the creatures beyond the wall, while the tales the older women of the Neck whispered by the fire were about the encounter between the Children of the Forest and strange animals.

We're so different. He glanced once more at Howland, and he could have sworn there were tears in the Crannogman's eyes. He's so empathetic; when most of the men in this host see the horrors surrounding us, he feels the victims' suffering as if it was his. And suddenly, Eddard felt ashamed because the violence they witnessed didn't surprise him.

A squire from the Stormlands caught up with him as they crossed Cobbler Square, an almost cheerful look on his round face. Ned frowned in such a way the squire lost his spirit and lowered his dull blue eyes to the reins of his horse.

"My lord, Lord Robert has been riding to rejoin us, and he shall arrive soon," the boy announced with a reedy voice.

He nodded curtly, and the squire left him, his puzzled gaze revealing how Eddard's coldness toward such news was disturbing. Hooves resonating louder on the cobblestones warned him someone was behind him and Howland. He turned around just in time to see Rickard Karstark's tight-lipped expression.

"What does it mean, Eddard?" Karstark asked in his straightforward style. "Did Tywin Lannister decide to claim the Iron Throne for himself?"

"He would have attacked us, in this case. If he let us in the city, he plans an alliance with Robert."

"With us," Karstark corrected.

Ned felt his shoulders sink, and he swivelled to face his Northerner friend. Karstark's knowing look washed over him but didn't soothe the anxiety anchoring deeper in his bones as they progressed toward the Red Keep.

"Fuck, I don't like it either," Karstark sighed. "And what do these banners on the Red Keep mean?"

What happened to the royal family? The question tormented him since Howland had foretold the king's death; when crossing the Gate of the Gods or looking up at the Red Keep, Ned couldn't help wondering what Tywin Lannister would do with the king, his Hand or Rhaegar's wife.

Every time he saw a dead woman lying in the streets leading to the castle, whether she was young or old, fully dressed or almost naked, he thought of the Dornish princess and hoped the Lannisters had simply locked her in some dungeon. Perhaps some Dornish knight had found a way to rescue her; the idea, as comforting as it may be, seemed unrealistic. After all, Elia of Dorne had somehow stolen his daughter's betrothed, and Tywin Lannister had no taste for forgiveness.

Yet, I couldn't imagine he would command this.

At first, he had thought that Rickard Karstark might be right when he had asked if Lord Tywin was not claiming the Iron Throne: the Lannister banners flying over the Red Keep, their crimson fabric darkened by the greyish smoke of the fires, billowing in the wind, made Jon Arryn curse while Ned feared the worst.

After he had found Ser Jaime Lannister from the Kingsguard sitting on the Iron Throne, King Aerys' bloodied corpse at his feet, he felt trapped. No matter how strict his orders had been concerning violence and looting, no matter what decision he would take later, his name would forever be associated with the Sack of King's Landing and the murder of the last Targaryens.

Ned entered the Throne Room expecting to find the mad king still on the throne. Ready to die and rot there. His eyes looked at the corpse of the old king lying on the floor. The smell of blood was fresh in the hall. Ned wanted to feel rejoice. The king who burned his father and brother was dead. He had his justice, but now Ned only felt emptiness. Like he had achieved nothing, his brother and father were still dead and will stay for the rest of the days.

He slowly looked at the figure sitting on the iron throne. The golden hair, green eyes, and the armour of the king's guard were unmistakable. In front of him smiling was Ser Jaime Lannister, the son of Tywin Lannister.

The young king's guard was smiling like justice had been served, and he was the one to help do that justice. He slowly walked down the stairs of the throne. His right glove was slightly covered in blood.

"I'm waiting who will be the king, not that I care who sits on the Iron Throne anymore," he said with a normal tone. Ned glared at the young knight, and he had just killed his king. The king he swore to protect.

Lannisters and honour are like Oil and Water, Ned thought.

"I would be quiet if I were you ', KingSlayer'," he said the word with venom. At that moment, he saw a flash of anger passing through the young knight's eyes.

He opened his mouth to say something; anything but all the words had died on his throat. He clenched his teeth slightly, and Ned prepared to fight the young Lannister. When soldiers of House Lannister walked inside holding flags of House Lannister, followed by a man around his 40's. Ned didn't need to ask to know who the man was. The golden armour and the proud lion of House Lannister on his chest. Tywin Lannister. But Ned's heart skipped a bit when he saw his friend, Robert Baratheon, walking by his side with a proud look on his face, almost like everything was fine.

Ned wanted to ask where Princess Elia and her children were. But his worst nightmares came true when he saw two soldiers holding on their backs what looked like bags, but a closer look and he saw they were bodies covered with the flag of House Lannister.

Robert walked past Ned without glancing at him. He slowly walked to the throne and the corpse. He turned around and laughed.

"Show them to me", he ordered, his voice booming through the hall. Ned watched in horror as the guards dropped the bodies on the cold floor and slowly removed the Lannister flag. Ned felt sick, his breathing slowed, and he couldn't stop staring at them. In front of him was what looked like a little girl, but her body was covered everywhere in blood. Her face was barely recognisable. But the long dark hair showed that it was a girl.

Ned wanted to yell and curse; he started this war to help Lyanna and kill the king and not butcher innocent children. His eyes slowly looked at the second body. His head looked like a smashed fruit, his silver hair covered in blood.

He wanted to turn to Robert and tell him to execute whoever did and order this. But all that thought vanished when he heard him, Laughing.

He was laughing at what he was seeing, not looking disrupted or disgusted. He was laughing like someone just told the best joke in Westeros.

Ned wanted to yell and curse, but all the words had died in his throat. Robert kept laughing when he finally found his voice, and for the first time, he was furious with Robert.

"How can you laugh At THIS ROBERT, They're Children" he screamed at his friend. His voice was heard through the whole hall and corridor.

Robert stopped laughing and turned to look at Ned. His eyes grew furious, and not look shocked.

"I see no Children, only Dragonspawn", he yelled back and pointed the finger at the bodies.

Ned was sure he had heard him wrong; he felt sick. He felt like he would puke. His eyes turned to look at Robert again. Taking all the courage and honour he had left.

"You're not The Robert I knew. That Robert is Dead," he spoke with a firm tone, regretting nothing. He turned and walked away, leaving him alone to rot with the Lannisters.

We were friends. A long time ago, we were friends, and you spoiled everything: you didn't deserve Lyanna's affection, and you betrayed my trust. Many men won battles for you or died in your name! Now your selfish decisions sullied their reputation and mine.

He stormed out of the Great Hall, not bothered by Jon Arryn's reproachful gaze and sought refuge on a large balcony overlooking the gardens; this peaceful vision contrasted so much with the display of violence in the city and the crimson cloaks saturated by the children's blood it made him cringe. He didn't know for how long he stayed there, along with his guilt. As he clung to the guardrail and braced himself against it, he heard behind him brisk footsteps and recognised Howland. Perhaps the only person who understands my reaction.

Ned turned slightly, locked eyes with his friend, and gave him a poor smile: take it out on Howland would be the last thing to do. Howland took a few steps further, leaned his elbows on the guardrail but remained silent; there was nothing to say, even for the wise little man born in the Neck.

They contemplated the square flowerbeds, the ocher paths between neat hedges of box-tree, the gurgling marble fountains; all this scenery had been created so that the king could rest after hours spent inside the Red Keep attending ceremonies or ruling the realm, and under the soft, caressing sunbeams of the late afternoon, the gardens of the Red Keep reached their perfection. Yet, the acrid smell of smoke coming from the city's ashes found its way to their nostrils. Mayhap the stench was the same the day Father and Brandon died.

"Why are you always right?" Eddard asked Howland, and it sounded like blame.

The sun was coming down, setting fire to the greenery, turning the yellowish-brown alleys into copper: the intoxicating view abruptly reminded Ned of Howland's prediction.

"About the king's murder?" Howland replied. "I hated King Aerys for what he had done, but I wish things were different. He deserved a trial. And a proper execution, but afterwards. Besides, Ned, I've made mistakes. Many mistakes." He whispered the last part as he was talking about things he deeply regretted.

"What have we done?"

Eddard turned to his friend, trying to regain his composure despite the tears burning his eyelids. As usual, what he saw in Howland's gaze soothed him and gave him the comfort he needed. You can rely on me, the green eyes said.

"We're here for your sister," the Crannogman whispered. "I'll stay by your side until we find Lyanna. Then we'll ride back home: you'll join your brother in Winterfell, and I'll go back to the Neck."

Ned could seek solace in the prospect of seeing the high walls of Winterfell again; he nodded vehemently.

"Who are the Lannister men who killed the Dornish princess and her children?" he asked Howland.

Since their ride through the city, an idea had crept into his mind: the wall needed men and for some of the so-called knights who had killed people and raped women during the Sack, taking the black seemed appropriate. Perhaps too kind. Elia's murderers deserved the black, at the very least.

"They're both Lannister bannermen, knighted not long ago. A... Ser Amory Lorch and a man called Gregor Clegane. You can't miss this one. He's so tall and massive he earned an ominous nickname: the mountain. It was a slaughter, Ned. Amory Lorch stabbed Rhaegar's daughter so many times no servant could recognise her. And the Mountain..."

Howland stopped talking for a while, and Eddard regretted his question.

"He found Princess Elia with her son," Howland went on. "People say he took the baby, smashed his skull against a wall. She watched her son die, Ned, and she couldn't do anything. Then he raped her and killed her, but I don't know how, because I couldn't stomach it. You know, it's weird, because... I've fought battles with you, I've seen what they did to this city, but this... those details... I couldn't stomach it."

As Howland tried to collect himself, Eddard cursed in an undertone. They'll pay for these murders. He didn't know yet how to convince Robert, but the crimes would not go unpunished.

All of a sudden, a tall figure leapt out from the corridor leading to the Great Hall and almost ran into Howland before ending up at the opposite corner of the balcony where they stood; bending over the guardrail, the intruder vomited his last meal, then wiped away his mouth with the back of his hand and gave them a sheepish glance.

Now that he was standing up, Eddard could notice the boy's height – he had easily towered above Howland a few heartbeats before – his shoulders breadth, the crimson surcoat revealing he was a Lannister creature and the right side of his face. A squire. Gods, he's young, so young.

"Looks like someone didn't stomach it either," Howland commented in an undertone.

"He's a Lannister," Eddard flatly observed.

Ignoring his remark, Howland walked toward the Lannister squire.

"Are you alright, boy?"

"I-I'm fine. Thank you, my lord. I'm sorry for..."

Ashamed, he stopped short of going into humiliating details. To his great surprise, the boy's voice had not broken, which meant he was even younger than Eddard thought. The tiny, almost girlish voice contrasted with his grown-up stature and a kind of wildness his eyes exuded.

As the boy shifted from foot to foot, he finally caught a glimpse at the left side of his face and gasped. He had seen this boy in the Great Hall, somewhere behind the lords of the main houses of the Westerlands, but he was on the opposite side of the room at this moment, and the boy's dark hair partly hid his features.

The burns were so deep, so extended, and Ned didn't even know someone could survive them. From hairline to chin, the boy's left side was a mass of scars; the flesh was black by places, and Eddard sucked in deeply when he realised the ear had disappeared, leaving a hole his strands of hair barely concealed. He must have felt Eddard's eyes on him, for he briskly spun on his heels, only showing them the unburnt side of his face.

"It's a long way from the Westerlands," Howland went on.

"Aye, my lord."

"It was your first battle, right?"

"It was not a battle. It was a sack," the boy spat. His tone was full of contempt and disgust.

At least, there is one person in their damn host who acknowledges what happened here. The boy looked behind him, wondering if he should stay here with his liege lord's new allies or if he should go back to the Great Hall: his shoulders finally sank, and he didn't move.

A gust of wind made Howland shiver and brought the smell of smoke again. When Ned lifted his eyes, he discerned small things twirling in the air, like greyish snowflakes fluttering about for a while before landing on the balcony; the boy saw them too and extended his hand to touch them. A puzzled look on his face, he scrutinised the snowflakes that would not melt despite the warmth of his palm.

"Ashes," Eddard explained abruptly.

Howland and the boy turned to him, more surprised by his sudden attempt to break the silence than by his answer. The three of them stood there, watching the evening wind bringing more and more ashes on the dead king's perfect garden, dusting the bright flowers and the box tree with a greyish substance until the boy finally left them wordlessly.

"Do you know who he is?" Eddard asked Howland.

Whenever they met new people, Howland always managed to identify these persons and learn things about them before Ned; besides, he noticed that his friend had not asked the boy's name, as if he already knew. Howland locked eyes with him, slightly embarrassed.

"His name is Sandor Clegane," he answered with a hint of reluctance.

"Clegane? Like the man who raped and killed Elia of Dorne?"

Eddard's indignant tone made Howland shake his head. You don't understand, the green eyes said.

"He's the mountain's brother, yes. But you saw his reaction! He's young, very young: just try to imagine what he witnessed today."

"Come on, Howland... If he's the mountain's brother-"

"He hates his brother," Howland stated, with this solemn voice that roused suspicion and annoyance among the Northern lords.

"How do you know?"

"I've heard he ran away from home after his father's death," Howland replied, ignoring his question. "And there's more. After his son got his scars, Lord Clegane kept saying the boy's bedding had caught fire, but some people blamed Gregor. I thought it was idle gossip. Until what we saw today."

"He would have burnt his own kin? That's monstrous!" After a short silence, he added: "How did you learn all these details about a boy belonging to the Lannister host?" Eddard asked, frowning.

Folding his arms on his chest, he waited for Howland's response, almost sure he wouldn't appreciate it.

"I've talked with Gerion Lannister."

Cursing, Eddard pinched the bridge on his nose between his thumb and forefinger, then locked eyes with the Crannogman.

"A Lannister, Howland? Are you out of your mind?"

He suddenly didn't care if someone could hear their conversation; his distrust toward Lord Tywin was an open secret, as the origins of the boy's scars.

"Gerion Lannister is not like his brother!" Howland explained in an undertone, leaning toward him. "You can't just lump together all the members of the Lannister host. You can't lump together the Clegane brothers. Some might be monsters, but others disapprove like you partly disapprove Robert's decisions."

Dismayed, Eddard looked at Howland and understood his words could easily outrun his thoughts if they kept talking.

"I've heard enough," he said, shrugging. "I've seen enough today. So I'm going to... explore this castle until I find a place where I could sleep. A damn place where I'm alone, a place that doesn't remind me of the horrors that happened here. Don't know if such a place exists."

With that said, Ned walked away, his fingers pinching the bridge in his nose. With only one thought in his head now.

Where are you, Lyanna?

Arthur Dayne

He always saw himself as a strong man and a man of honour. But now, he felt weak. The guilt in his heart. He was sure he would have already jumped from a tower if it wasn't for his promise to Elia and Rhaegar. The news had spread everywhere of Rhaegar's fall in the Trident.

Arthur had shed tears for his friend and king. His king's guards and brothers took the news as bad as him, but the worst was for Princess Lyanna Stark. Her health has been worsened since the news came. Arthur had tried to remind her that she needed to be strong for her child, but nothing worked. She cried herself to sleep for many nights. And Arthur was concerned that this would lead to the death of her's and her child.

But the worst came when the bird arrived with news that Elia Martell and her children, Prince Aegon and Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, had been killed like they were pigs. Slaughtered, Princess Rhaenys had been stabbed a hundred times, Prince Aegon's skull had been crushed against the wall. And the worst, princess Elia was raped by the mountain with the blood of her children still on his hands. And then cut in half. The news of the king laughing at the corpses of dead children was spread quickly like wildfire.

Arthur knew he needed to be strong and not break down. He had his orders and would protect the last child of Rhaegar with his life if necessary. And keep his promise. He was looking at the reflection of his sword 'Dawn'. He looked at himself, he was then known as the best swordsman of Westeros, and yet, he wasn't able to protect anyone close to him. Elia was a friend he had known since he was five name days. He looked up at the horizon.

On the horizon, Arthur saw horse riders coming with the flag of House Stark, and the dire wolf could be seen. He knew Lord Eddard Stark must be one of them. He looked at his brothers, their eyes telling him that it was the time for the fight of their lives. Arthur took a deep breath and stood on his foot, as did his brothers. The three-headed dragon stood proudly on their armour. His sword 'Dawn' is on his right hand.

Arthur could feel the tension rising, and he knew Lyanna would give birth soon; if needed, he would die here to protect the true king.

The horses stopped twenty feet away from them. Lord Stark was the first to dismount his horse. He had a long sword tightened to his belt. Arthur was sure that it was 'Ice', the Valyria steel sword of House Stark. The man walked towards them with heavy steps.

As many in the realm believed, Arthur expected the lord to look at them with fury and hatred for 'kidnapping' lady Lyanna. But to his surprise, Lord Stark looked . . . Tired and his eyes were full of regret and sorrow. His men followed him and Arthur stabbed 'Dawn' in the ground, telling them not to get closer.

Lord Stark stopped walking, and his men were behind him; his eyes went to Ser Arthur.

"I expected to see you in the Trident", lord Eddard spoke, his voice strong and firm. He eyed each king's guard, almost like evaluating them. Behind him were five men. All five had a sword in their hands. But still, they were sweating from their face, and he wasn't sure if they were afraid or because of the sun shining high in the sky. Arthur had no problem with the hot temperatures. He was raised in Starfall, the castle of House Dayne in Dorne. And the hot temperatures were how every day to him was.

"Our prince wanted us here", Ser Arthur replied with an edge to his tone. His right hand slowly held Dawn's pommel more tightly. His left hand was resting on the pommel of his second sword. Ser Oswell and Ser Gerold eyed the men in front of them. Ready to cut them down.

Lord Stark's eyes glanced at the tower behind Arthur, and his eyes turned to look at Ser Arthur. His eyes showed pain.

"I want to see my sister. We're not here to fight," he said with a soft tone, almost begging him. Arthur wasn't sure if it was because of fear or maybe guilty of a broken promise. Ser Arthur clenched his teeth and was about to take a step forward when Ser Gerold raised his hand like he knew that Ser Arthur would strike.

"You want to see your sister. Very well, but Ser Arthur will stay close," he said with a warning. His voice was hard as steel.

Arthur wanted to protest, but looking at his commander, he held his tongue and kept quiet. He needed to think about his king and what was best for him. Lord Stark looked relieved; he looked back at his men and gave them a reassuring smile. One of them looked not to agree, but Lord Stark started walking towards the tower. Ser Arthur followed him, his sword drawn out and ready to cut him down. Lord Stark noticed this but kept quiet, and he was here to save his sister. And fighting the king's guard here would not help with that.

Everyone then heard a scream from the top of the tower. "Lyanna", Lord Stark screamed in horror and started running upstairs. Arthur followed him. He saw him bursting through the door. Ser Arthur walked inside but stopped when he recognised the smell of blood. Arthur's eyes went to the sheets covering her. They were covered in blood, and the scent of winter roses was in the air. Looking at her face, Arthur swallowed hard to hold down the tears. He didn't need a maester to know that it was over.

"Ned, is that you" her weak voice was heard as Lord Stark kneeled in front of her bed, holding her hand with his. "Yes, it is me, Lyanna", Lord Stark replied, looking at her.

"I'm sorry, Ned, it is all my fault," she said, tears in her eyes. Her face pale lost all colour; her lips had lost their colour and looked slightly darkened purple. Her red eyes from crying for days. "I want to live, Ned. I'm not brave," she said almost like a weak whisper as she was panting.

Ned shooked his head and kissed her forehead, and holding the tears in his eyes. "Is not your fault", he said with a weak tone.

He turned to the king's guard. "Give her some water", he begged them. His eyes held the sorrow he had felt for so long since his brother and father had died. He was trying hard to not break down in front of his sister.

She quickly put her other hand on his shoulder to stop the hopeless try to save her. "No, listen to me", she begged as her hands held no strength to hold his anymore.

Ned leaned closer, his heart feeling that this would be the last words of his sister.

"His name is Jaehaerys Targaryen. You have to protect him. Promise me, Ned, promise me," she begged as her breathing got slower. Her tears had stopped.

"I promise, Lya. Your child will be protected. And . . . And I will help him with everything he might need. You have my word," he promised with a serious tone but at the same time broken.

A wet nurse holding the king covered in white sheets moved close to Lord Stark and Princess Lyanna showing the child to them. Lyanna was able to look at her treasure, her eyes looking at his purple eyes. A weak smile spread on her face, and she murmured something as her chest stopped raising. The life in her eyes died like a candle.

Lord Stark moved her shoulders gently. As tears were rolling down his cheek, he was still holding her hand tightly, almost expecting her to wake up again. He started sobbing as his forehead touched hers.

Arthur didn't know what to say, and he knew Lady Lyanna. She was a girl with a gentle heart. And a good friend. Arthur swallowed hard and tried not to cry. Minutes passed, and the only thing that could be heard was Lord Stark mourning his sister. Everyone heard footsteps coming towards them. Ser Arthur looked behind him to see Ser Oswell and Ser Gerold followed by one of Stark's men.

"Ned, what happened?" The man asked, walking inside but stopped when he saw the sight before him. The words died in his throat. Ser Gerold's eyes went to the king who was sleeping on wet nurse's arms.

"Arthur, what should we do?" Ser Gerold asked and moving closer to the king.

Arthur found his voice and turned to look at his king.

"We will take him to Dorne. In sun's spear, he will be safe there," Arthur suggested, and Ser Gerold gave him a nod.

"In Dorne, how do you know that Prince Doran and prince Oberyn won't just kill him, for simply Existing" Lord Stark's voice was heard. His voice was high and strong. He slowly stood on his legs and glared at Ser Gerold.

"Prince Doran knows about the king. Elia had sent him a letter letting him know about Princess Lyanna," Ser Arthur replied with an edge to his tone. His hand tightened around the pommel of 'Dawn'.

"I will come with you then. I want to make sure my nephew is safe. I won't break this promise," Lord Stark stated as he was looking at the rightful King of Westeros.

Chapter 2 (Family)

Jaime Lannister

"I see No Children only Dragonspawn" those words ringed on his ears like bells not stopping. His whole heart felt frozen, his eyes looking downwards at what was left of Princess Rhaenys; he felt his heart beating on his throat. His face slowly paled and turned as white as milk. His hands slowly started shaking like a leaf.

The kind and gentle girl, now killed like that. The beautiful smiles would make everyone love her, But all he could see now was blood and only blood; Enough blood to cover the whole world. Her dark hair was covered in blood; he remembered her pretty hair whenever she walked or ran around smiling. Her hair would dance along with the wind flying by; Rhaenys herself was like wind sometimes.

With her melodic voice, Arthur used to say that she was a singer just like Prince Rhaegar. She would sometimes sing for him and even tell him to rest. She would always try to make his job as much more enjoyable as possible; she was only four name days, and yet almost as she knew that the job of a King's Guard could be stressful sometimes.

He swallowed a huge breath, almost thinking that would be his last one. His eyes were frozen, and only looking at the children, he felt his whole face had frozen, feeling cold, colder than the Wall itself. Why them? Jaime asked.

They were children; they were innocent; why them then? Why God?? Jaime asked questions on his head but received only silence.

He thought of his brothers, what would they think of him now, looking at him, an oathbreaker wearing armour, a man who killed his king. Burn Them All.

Jaime was sure he had saved them, But that wasn't enough; they would be ashamed of him, Arthur would be ashamed of him, the man who made him a knight, Jaime could still remember that moment, every word, every movement, Jaime treasured it as the happiest moment of his life, and now he had fallen. He had failed his promise as a knight and as a king's guard. He wasn't able to protect his Queen from Aerys, her cries of agony still haunted him, and he had failed to protect Elia and her children.

I have Failed

Jaime felt cold sweat on his forehead and turned his head towards his father. His father was known never to smile. He had never smiled since mother had left this world. He now had a slight smile on his face; Jaime felt sick of what his father had done.

He should have known, The Rains of Castamere. Jaime felt like wanting to choke his father to death; they were innocent; they had done nothing. He suddenly felt fuzzy; he felt like he would fall dead in the ground at any moment; his vision seemed to blur; he didn't know why?

Am I Crying? He asked himself, not sure of the answer; he had never cried before. The last time he cried was when his mother had died to bring Tyrion into the world. Jaime saw himself as a strong man, so why was he crying?

Taking a deep breath and swallowing all the guilt away, he turned his head around, not wanting to look at his father; he just couldn't look at him right now, it felt like he might try and do something he 'Might?' Regret later.

Instead, he took all the dignity he had left and left the throne room almost running; his legs were moving on his own. He felt like the throne room would swallow him whole. He felt heavy, heavier than ever before, his shoulders feeling like they would fall apart at any moment.

His knees felt weak; he felt the need to fall on his knees and curse the world for what had happened.

He finally left the damn room and not caring if anyone was calling him, at the back of his head, he knew someone was calling his name, but right now he couldn't even tell who was calling him, his father? Cersei? Jaime didn't know, and right now, he just wanted to be anywhere else.

He walked and walked, his legs just moving without stopping, he didn't know where he was going, was he leaving the red keep never to return ever again? But his eyes roamed around the walls; he knew this place of the red keep.

He felt his heart beating on his throat, his hands shaking like a leaf, his eyes not wanting to see what lay ahead.

"No", he whispered as if he was trying to tell his legs to stop walking; he couldn't go to that room, not now! Not Ever.

"NO," he said again, raising his voice in fear and panic; he finally stopped walking and looked around; he knew the place.

"Your mother will be angry if you stay awake for long", he heard a voice echoing through the walls, almost mocking him, shaming him for his failures.

I Failed

A voice said in his head, he turned his head around to see who talked, but all he could see was dust and walls. He swallowed again, almost expecting to be his last.

He turned around again and saw the door of her room slightly open, almost inviting him to see his failure. He felt his breath stuck in his throat; he felt blades cutting deep in his throat, drawing blood and screams.

Jaime's eyes went to his hands and saw them sweating as he had just fought a war. His forehead was sweating and falling on the cold floor.

His legs moved on his own again, his heart beating on his throat with each step; he felt his heart would burst from his chest.

"My mother doesn't need to know Ser Jaime," A voice said, laughing from inside the room.

Jaime shooked his head desperately, he moved closer, and his hands slowly went to the handle of the door. Taking all the strength, he gripped the handle and opened the door slowly.

He slowly walked inside to see blood everywhere around the walls, and the blood was still leaking through the walls and falling on the floor; he felt cold, real cold. He felt his skin burning, and his skin turned red.

He felt the strong smell of blood everywhere around here; the smell of the dead made him want to puke; the air was everywhere around the room.

His eyes slowly turned to the corner of the room to see Rhaenys. Her face was white like milk; her red lips were almost dark purple, with no life in them anymore. Her beautiful purple eyes now were completely white, like made of milk. Three stab marks around her face, her cheeks had two terrible red marks filled with dark around. The third mark on her nose had split her nose in half.

Her neck has slashes and cuts around. She turned to look at Jaime, who felt his skin crawling; he felt shivers of cold. His skin felt like it would split.

Rhaenys had many stabs marks all around her dress, her stomach sliced open, and guts were leaking outside like liquid.

In her hands, she was holding a bundle, but Jaime couldn't tell what she was holding, she was holding it in her arms almost like she was holding a baby, with care and love snd softly moving her hands to not wake . . . Him.

All Jaime could see was red, what looked like a head, smashed like a fruit. His face was nonexistent anymore, a broken skull that made his face unrecognisable. Blood leaked from the bundle covered in sheets, and the sheets were red with blood everywhere.

Rhaeny's slowly covered in blood, but she kept moving her arms around gently, wanting her baby brother to sleep and see good dreams.

"He's beautiful, isn't he" she suddenly asked him and turned her head at Aegon. Her voice felt and sounded different, devoid of all emotions, almost like a rock was talking to him. Her voice felt and sounded cold, sending shivers of fear and cold in his boy.

Jaime wanted to look away; he didn't want to see this, No he wanted to see them alive, To see Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon alive again. They deserved, Not Him; why was he alive? Maybe he should have just left the mad king to burn everything; at Least He Wouldn't feel all This . . . Pain and Despair.

He wanted to cry; he wanted to apologise and beg for forgiveness. Jaime fell to his knees, and cold tears streamed down his face like a waterfall. Looking down at the floor, he wanted to die right here and now.

He looked up and saw Rhaenys still rocking Aegon. "I'm sorry," he said, crying.

Jaime couldn't handle it anymore; why was he alive and not them.

Rhaenys stopped moving her hands, and her white cream eyes looked at him. A tear slowly developed in her right eye and slowly rolled down her cheek before freezing in her jawline.

She shooked her head, and a smile slowly spread on her face. "Protect my brother, Ser Jaime," she said quietly before everything went to black.

Jaime stood up immediately, breathing heavily; he turned his head around to see where he was; he recognised Rhaeny's room immediately. The blood was still on the floor, and it had dried; no one had bothered to clean the room.

He tried to catch his breath, and he couldn't remember when he had gotten inside the room; he used his hand to wipe his tears away and left the room. Before he closed the door, he gave one more look behind him and sighed. He closed the door softly and walked away with no direction. He didn't know where he was going.

As he was walking, he remembered the words Rhaenys told him.

'Protect my brother' Jaime was confused; Aegon was dead, for which brother she talked about? He then heard footsteps and turned to see Lannister soldiers approaching him.

"Lord Tywin requires your presence in the throne room", one of the soldiers stated. Jaime laughed bitterly, almost like what the soldier just said was a joke, a bad one.

He sighed and decided to see what his father wanted with him, and his steps felt heavy as he followed the soldier in front of him.

Soon he arrived in the throne room; the king's corpse wasn't there anymore, probably dumped in a corner somewhere left for the rats.

His eyes found his father standing in front of the throne proudly, his back turned to Jaime, the young lion wanted to grunt, from all the rooms of the red keep he chose this one to talk.

Jaime looked around and saw his sister standing close to their father, her smile not leaving her face; someone had done her hair. They looked clean, and the perfume thrown all over her body could be smelled from here. For the first time, Jaime didn't find his sister attractive. There was nothing there to celebrate.

Jaime cleared his throat to gain the attention of his father. The old lion slowly turned around to look at his son.

Jaime didn't break eye contact despite his father's hunting gaze. His gaze alone was enough to make people see why he was known as Tywin Lannister, the most powerful man in Westeros.

"Now that the king is dead, we have a new king; your days playing shining knight are over. Robert has agreed to pardon you for killing Aerys, and now I want you where you belong, as my Heir," he stated as he was stating a simple fact, a truth that could never change.

He felt his breath stuck in his throat; his thoughts were on Rhaenys, her voice still ringing in his ears like bells.

Pleasing his father was the last thing he wanted right now, and he couldn't handle his smirk, knowing that everything had fallen in a place like a completed puzzle that he had created.

Jaime knew his father hated Tyrion, and so did Cersei; closing his eyes, he thought of his little brother. A smirk slowly spread on his face; Jaime opened his eyes again and looked at his father straight in the eyes.

"No" is a simple word that wiped the smirk from Tywin's face, a word he never thought that he would hear from his son.

"No. I will keep my place as King's Guard," he stated, with the firm in his voice. A promise that wouldn't be broken. Jaime was focused on his father that he didn't see his sister's smirk, feeling triumphant over her father and everything.

Tywin's face changed to a frown, his face reddened like fire, his hand clenching together.

"No, well, your brother will have the same answer. Now Get Out," Tywin almost shouted in the end.

Jaime felt furious but still smiling; he bowed his head, almost mocking him, and left the throne room. His father could go and rot in the seven hells for all he cared.

Cersei Lannister - One month Later

Cersei smiled happily as she buried her face in a small bouquet of scarlet roses and inhaled their fresh, exquisitely delicate scent. They had just been brought in from the gardens, and she could still feel the cold drops of morning dew as they rolled off the delicate petals and onto her no less soft skin.

"Oh, my lady, do please be careful", her maid exclaimed as her skilled hands wove Cersei's long, silky hair of shining Lannister gold into a rather simple but elegant coiffure. "It would be a disaster to cut your face on the day of your wedding."

"I will not cut myself", Cersei replied with joyful pride as she handed one rich, scarlet blossom to the smiling maid. "This is the happiest day of my life, and it shall be perfect!"

In less than an hour, she would walk into the Great Sept of Baelor as Cersei Lannister and leave Cersei Baratheon, queen of the Seven Kingdoms and wife to the king, and she would finally be queen, there will be another queen like her.

"The people of King's Landing have been waiting since yesterday night around the Great Sept of Baelor to catch a glimpse of the ceremony", the maid sighed, taking two rosebuds from the young mistress's hand and attaching them carefully to her hair. "Everyone yearns to see our king wed the most beautiful lady in the realm. All the women in the Seven Kingdoms envy you, my lady."

"They should envy me" Cersei smiled contentedly as she felt the blossoms burden her hair. She felt triumphant, Jaime would soon get over his silly grudge against father for killing the dragon spawns and would come to her, and she was the queen of the seven kingdoms.

"It is a great honour to become queen, but his grace is the honoured one" the maid smiled proudly. "Your ladyship is the greatest prize any man could wish for. I hope he gracefully understands the value of what he's getting..."

"Of course he does", Cersei huffed, feeling almost outraged. "I am the only daughter of Lord Tywin Lannister!" She said proudly, her father was the strongest and wisest man in Westeros, no one could touch them, they were lions, and everyone bowed to lions.

Cersei felt fluttering butterflies tickle her stomach as she thought of the man she loved. She would remember the joyous moment forever with her brother Jaime since they were little. They were permanently bonded and always together, and they were one person in two bodies. Now that she would marry Robert and be queen, thus creating an alliance that would cement the peace of the realm. Cersei didn't care about the peace and prosperity of the seven kingdoms.

Suddenly the air was filled with the loud, musical, joyful ringing of the city bells. The king had arrived at the sept and was waiting for his bride to follow.

Cersei's heart leapt to her throat as she heard the faint sounds of her father's confident, unhurried approaching footsteps. Lord Tywin was coming to escort his daughter through the streets of King's Landing to the Great Sept of Baelor and give her away to the king, so she could be queen just like how the gods had destined for her to be.

"All done, my lady," the maid said happily, letting go of Cersei's hair and removing the piece of cloth that protected the wedding gown from her shoulders.

"Finally", Cersei smiled as she got up and straightened out the folds of her dress.

"Oh, my lady, you look so beautiful!" the maid exclaimed, clapping her hands happily. "When the people see you, they will compose songs about the most beautiful queen the capital has ever seen, which will be sung for years to come!"

The door opened before Cersei could reply, and her father came in, looking wonderfully elegant in his black leather doublet, decorated with several pairs of golden Lannister lions.

"Are you ready?" he asked calmly, eyeing his daughter from head to toe.

"Yes, father", Cersei answered happily, seeing a gleam of silent pride and approval in his cold, golden eyes.

"Come then", lord Tywin invited as he opened the door for her.

Cersei took a deep breath and a quick look at herself in the huge full–length mirror.

She was magnificently beautiful even if she did say so herself! Her exquisite wedding gown by tradition was dark red and richly decorated with golden embroidery. The finest dornish silk clung to her body, emphasising the tender ivory of her skin, bringing out the deep shining emeralds of her eyes and showing off her shapely figure perfectly. Her thick, flowing, golden hair came down below her shoulders in neat locks and waves intertwined with beautiful red roses.

Of course, her husband would fall in love with her at first sight! It was impossible not to! Everyone would fall for her.

The Great Sept of Baelor was drowning in light and colours and sounded as Cersei walked down the long staircase and across the floor on her father's arm. Their slow, dignified motion was accompanied by delighted looks and sighs of rapture from every corner of the enormous building, packed to the brim with lords and noblemen of the seven kingdoms and their ladies; Cersei enjoyed the moment, the attention they were giving to her, all of them were beneath the lions.

Members of the King's Guard saluted her as she approached the stairs to the altar. Jaime was no doubt among them; she kept her gaze away from him for now.

"My, don't you look lovely," her bridegroom said with a broad jolly smile on his face as he held out his arm to greet her.

"Thank you, my lord", Cersei answered breathlessly, looking completely mesmerised by the man standing in front of her.

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection", came to the voice of the High Septon, and Cersei smiled as she felt Robert wrap his yellow cloak around her shoulders. It was long and rather heavy and decorated with a huge dancing black stag.

Her new sigil, Cersei thought with a hint of irritation.

"We stand here in the sight of the Seven to witness the union of man and wife", the High Septon continued. "One flesh, one heart, one soul. Now and forever."

Of course, she had heard of his previous engagement to the wolf slut, but thankfully she was dead; she had done enough by stealing her Rhaegar, but in the end, she would be queen, and the wolf slut was eating dirt and eating by maggots. She knew Robert claimed he loved the slut, but he couldn't possibly be in love with her. Cersei was far more beautiful and refined.

"In the sight of the seven, I at this moment seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity," the Septon said, tying a yellow silk ribbon around their joined hands. "Look upon one another and say the words."

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger", Cersei uttered, "I am his, and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days".

She kissed his lips and could taste the beer and wine on his mouth, and it almost made her puke. She pulled away; they both turned to the people below them, and now seeing all of them below her made her feel powerful. She was the Queen of The Seven Kingdoms.

Cersei glanced at Jaime, who looked to be in a world of its own, not caring about her becoming queen and full-filling her wish. She wanted to tell him to stop his act and become the brother she loved.

Soon after she was declared the queen, she and her king sat at the main high table in the main room of the red keep; she kept a smile on her face, some would call her the happiest woman in the world right now, but her husband was drinking beer and wine like breathing air and was bothering her.

She knew it was their wedding and the husband's job to drink, but this was slowly getting out of hand and his horrendous smell coming from his mouth made her feel ill.

She glanced at her brother again, who looked to be want to be anywhere but here, his shining armour reflecting his handsome face and making it look brighter, like A Lion.

She started feeling warm just by looking at his face, biting her lower lip, and undressing him with her eyes. She felt herself warming up. She soon escaped her thoughts and knew it would not look suitable for the married woman to fancy after another man in her marriage.

She turned her head to look at her husband saw him laughing and drinking wine like a pig; she fought the urge to put her chair a bit further away from him. She couldn't wait until this night was over, she knew she needed to sleep with her husband, but despite being drunk, she could see his well-developed muscles. At least he didn't lack in his looks; having brains wasn't necessary to her.

She hoped at least he would be able to please her enough to overlook his lack of good behaviour towards her, and he should have his eyes only on her; what more could he want in a woman. Or maybe he still dreamed about his slut-wolf.

The feast soon ended, and ladies and lords were eager to have their hands on her in the bedding ceremony.

Robert didn't seem to mind or act outrageously that the lords were putting their hands on his queen; she couldn't tell if he didn't care or was too drunk even to understand what was happening.

Soon lords started tearing her clothes; Jaime walked closer to see that no one tried anything funny; she felt relieved to know that Jaime still loved and lusted after her, soon they started carrying Cersei to the bedroom. Ladies whispering to her that she was lucky to be married to someone as handsome as Robert.

Lords were telling Robert the same, but in a much rudder way, she couldn't believe what kind of words some men say about their wives.

Soon she reached the bedchamber; she turned around to see Robert was already stripped of his upper clothes; his impressive chest was a sight, Cersei couldn't lie to herself.

His lower clothes were slightly moved down, especially the part around his manhood that was ripped apart and almost falling to the floor. Cersei herself was fully naked in front of her husband.

Robert said nothing as Cersei seductively moved her hips and walked towards their bed.

Cersei's hair shined from the light of the moon, but the dark colour of the window's glass made it look like she had dark hair instead of the gold of the Lannister.

Cersei looked at Robert and could see something she had seen only in Jaime; whenever they stole kisses or if they were alone in a room, she recognised that look anywhere, Lust and Love.

Robert removed the last bit of his clothes and moved towards the bed, his manhood standing proudly like a Valyria Sword; Cersei couldn't help but blush. He leaned close to her and started kissing her neck, his hand gripping her inner thighs tightly, his right hand on her breasts gripping them firmly; Cersei couldn't help but moan, his mouth slowly kissing her jawline to her ear.

"Lyanna", he whispered in her ear.

Cersei lost all the warmth in her body; she felt like someone had just thrown a bucket with cold water in her whole body. She felt insulted, she was the most beautiful woman in the entire Seven Kingdoms, and he dares compare her to a wild slut that is eating dirt in the ground.

Her green eyes shone like Wildfire, and at that moment, she swore never to love Robert Baratheon, and she would never have any of his children.

Eddard Stark - One Month Earlier

They have been travelling for a week now, making their way to Starfall. Ned felt both happy and dreadful for his reunion with Ashara; last time he had promised marriage, a promise for A Stark was everything, was like promising in front of a Weirwood tree, and that promise should not break, or you will feel the wrath of gods.

Ned knew he was a dishonourable man; he broke a promise and Dishonored a lady before their wedding. Ned had been sure that nothing would go wrong, and that confidence made him take that step, and Now, he felt Empty.

Asha would live the rest of her life alone, and he would be forced to have children with a woman he didn't love; he didn't have anything against Catelyn, she was a pretty woman and faithful to both the Seven and her husband, but she was no Asha and would never be.

Ned glanced behind his shoulder to see his men tired; the heat of the Dorne was unbearable; they were North Men, men of the winter that had gone too far south. With all the sweat on his forehead, Ned felt like he was shrinking.

Ned turned his head in front of him to see the King's Guard standing close to the Woman, Wylla. She had the king in her arms.

The only good thing about this journey was that Prince Jaehearys wasn't crying, he was reticent, and the only time he made any sound was when he needed to be fed.

Ned sometimes still couldn't believe his sister was gone; he knew he would miss her wildernesses, her horse riding, and her pretty smiles; now Jaehaerys was all that he had left of her.

After they had left the tower, Ned had ordered three of his men to send Lyanna's body back to Winterfell as soon as possible, and she would be buried in the Crypts, where all her family was, only he and Benjen were left.

Ned couldn't believe it, but he missed his little brother; he hoped to return to the North as soon as possible; Benjen needed him in these hard times as much as he did.

Ned heard horse footsteps walking closer to him from behind, and he turned to see Howland with a stern look on his face.

"Howland everything alright?" He asked, looking at him.

Howland sighed sadly and shooked his head. "Is my fault Ned, I . . . I let Lyanna enter the tourney despite knowing that the king was there," he stated and his tone full of regret.

Ned looked at him, confused for a few seconds before it clicked him. "You Mean. Lyanna was The Knight Of The Laughing Tree?" He asked but more like a statement. Howland nodded his head.

Ned smiled and laughed from sadness; of course, Lyanna would do that; she always loved to ride a horse. Ned thought with a half-smile on his face. He sighed before patting Howland on the shoulder.

"Is not your fault Howland, you didn't know, and Lya, she was a free spirit", Ned stated, feeling tears on the corner of his eyes; he swallowed hard, not wanting to cry in front of his men.

Soon the night came, and they stopped to rest and sleep; a few tents were made to sleep in; Ned felt slightly relieved now; the sun was down and was much better now. He took a deep breath from the cold air around him, and he wanted to feel like he was at home again, of course, despite being night was still warm. But Ned had heard stories from Asha that in the centre of Dorne, in the endless deserts, the nights are as cold as the nights at The Wall.

Before, Ned had thought that Asha was joking but feeling the cool air around him, he wondered if it was true after all.

He turned to the king's guards; Ser Oswell and Ser Gerold were the only ones who exchanged words with them; of course, they always protected Prince Jaehaerys, but they were the only ones willing to talk to the Northern.

Ser Arthur was quiet, and he only talked with his 'brothers' as they called each other. The sword of the morning didn't exchange any word with Ned or any of the northern men since they left the tower joy.

Ned sighed and walked towards the tent where Prince Jaehaerys was sleeping. He saw Ser Arthur, Ser Gerold, and Ser Oswell resting next to the tent. The sword of the morning was the first to notice him and stood up glaring at the oathbreaker.

"Ser Arthur, I would like to talk with you in private", Ned stated kindly and his hand pointing towards a little abandoned house.

Arthur narrowed his eyes and took a step forward, and his hand was resting on the pommel of Dawn.

"I have to protect the king; it is my duty to keep my oath to the king unlike some", he stated with a bitter taste in his mouth. Ned clenched his teeth, but before he could say anything, Ser Gerold raised his hand and gave both of them a stern glare; Ser Arthur lowered his head slightly and took a step back, and so did Ned.

"Ser Arthur, you can go talk with Lord Stark, me and Ser Oswell will be here to protect the king, and I Want. No. Problems," he stated with authority, his tone firm.

For a moment, Ned felt like a green boy again that was being yelled at by his parents. Ser Arthur nodded his head and moved his head for Ned to follow him.

There was no sound between the two men until they were at the little house; Ned noticed a few spider webs but ignored them.

Ned turned to look at Ser Arthur and was about to speak when Ser Arthur glared at him and raised his hand for him to stop.

"Why? Why did you promise Asha? Why did you? Lied To Her?" He yelled and took a step forward, his hand holding the pommel of his sword; for a moment, Ned thought that Arthur would strike, but he felt his blood boiling. He stood forward fearlessly.

"No. I didn't lie to Her. I love her more than anything in my life. Do you think it is Easy For Me? I had everything. I would have the woman I loved, but then my sister is gone, and before I even knew it, The Damn King Burns my brother and Chokes my Father to Death. How do you think I feel when I have to return to Winterfell and not see any of my parents and two of my siblings? The only thing left is memories, and how do you think I feel knowing I will sleep and have children with a woman I Don't Love" Ned left out what he had been Holding Back for A Long Time.

Arthur's eyes widened for a few moments, and he felled in silence. He had been so angry that the Stark had betrayed his sister that he didn't bother to look at his perspective.

After minutes of silence, Arthur looked at Ned. "I . . . I'm sorry," he said quietly and nodded his head at Ned and wondered if he should tell him the truth about Asha; what Would he Think? He didn't know but decided to leave Ashara to give him the good news.

"Let's go back. Our king needs us" Ser Arthur walked away, leaving Ned on his own to think about Asha.

He wasn't sure how to feel; closing his eyes, he reminded himself that he needed to explain everything to her. Ned knew he had broken his promise, but Asha needed to know that she would be the only woman in his life, and that would never change.

His eyes turned to the king, and a small smile spread on his lips.

Lyanna, if you're watching over me, please give me your wild nature, brother, please give me your courage, mother give me your calmness, and father gives me your wisdom.

Chapter 3 (A Wolf)

Eddard Stark

He stood on his horse in front of the gates of Starfall, the sun shining above him; he felt his throat dry like he had eaten fire, his tongue felt like he had brick instead of it. Even if he tried to, he couldn't even spit. While not because he didn't have water to drink and cool his throat and body, they had plenty, but he was a northerner; his father once told him that Northerner meant the People of Snow.

Back then, Ned thought of it because they lived in the North, but now, he could barely endure the heat of the place, let alone when they reached Sun's Spear; he wondered how could people even live there without losing their minds from the heat or just walking around naked all the time. He didn't know how he would endure but decided to think later of it.

Ned had removed most of his clothes, his fully armoured outfit; right now, he wore a simple shirt beneath his skin, the shirt was slightly open around his neck, his sleeves rolled up, he still wore the symbol of House Stark with pride; A necklace that had the Direwolf of his house around his neck.

Ned Stark always told Ashara that he would eventually visit her home together, the way she described it. The castle was close to the mouth of a river he didn't recognise, the young lord was sure that Asha had mentioned the name, but Ned couldn't remember it right now.

Ignoring the heat, the view in front of them was breathtaking; the river almost looked to kiss the castle. The castle itself had high towers, and the highest one kissed the clouds. What Can someone see from the top of that tower? Ned asked himself. Star Fall had nine towers, all of them had yellow and red colours around the roofs; moving his eyes downwards, he saw the gates slowly opening.

Ser Arthur stood in front since his face and sword were recognisable; he had grown a small beard around his jawline and chin. Ned looked at the gates opening with anticipation, hoping to see Ashara waiting for them behind the gates.

When the gates opened, he saw a few men he didn't recognise, his eyes roamed around in desperation to see her, but his eyes didn't find her beautiful hair or her hunting violet eyes. Ser Arthur walked forward, his chest high and his face shining from the light of the sun.

Behind him were Ser Oswell and Ser Gerold, who kept their faces high, showing their armour and swords. Behind them was the woman Wylla, who held Prince Jaehaerys in her arms.

Ned barely had any interactions with the woman, usually asking if there was anything she needed or if Prince Jaehaerys needed help, or if he was unwell.

Behind Wylla was Ned Stark beside him was Howland, who kept a straight face, and to Ned's right were two of his banners.

"Is good to have you back, Lord Dayne; your sister has been worried sick for you", the guard stated, keeping his eyes down and holding a spear on his right hand that he had lowered.

"I believe everything is in order?" Ser Arthur asked with a firm tone; his voice sounded harsher and firm. Nothing like the tone he used with his brothers.

The guard bowed his head in respect before nodding his head; his eyes glanced at the man behind his lord but didn't question their purpose here. It wasn't his job to ask.

"Lady Ashara is better, my lord", the guard stated, and Ned felt his heart skip a bit, Asha? What does he mean? Was she sick? He wanted to ask immediately, and he put his hands on the horse's reins and wanted to walk forward, but Howland put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and looked at him.

Ned looked at him, and he was giving him a look that said, 'To stay put and ask later'. Ned sighed sadly but decided to wait, but he felt his heart beating on his throat; his legs were itching to walk inside the castle and see Asha himself.

Ser Arthur turned his head to his companions and gave them a sign with his head to follow him inside. Ned sighed in relief and soon followed, walking inside, he felt the gaze of many people staring at the Northerners.

Ned knew his long face and brown eyes probably weren't common in Dorne, and their body looked like a Northerner. Deciding to ignore it, he followed behind. The courtyard around the castle was covered in little stone blocks, probably decorated with hands and tools. The stones were in different colours from red, yellow, purple, green, and many colours.

He dismounted his horse first, and a boy not older than around ten name days walked close to him. Ned gave him the horse's reins, and the boy put the horse on the stables along with the other horses.

Ned saw the main door that leads inside the castle, and it was decorated with red and yellow colours. The handle looked to be made of gold, the symbol of House Dayne standing proudly in front of the door, three meters tall.

Ned saw Ser Arthur talking to some man, and Ned walked closer, wanting to know when they could walk inside.

"My lord, follow me," a man said to Ser Arthur; the man had a mark across his cheek that reached his jawline. His right eye was covered by his long dark hair like a crow. His other eye looked yellow. Ned found the eye colour strange but was sure it was because of the light of the sun.

They soon walked inside, following the king's guards. Wylla was given a room, and they told her to rest. Ned couldn't wait any longer and decided to be blunt.

"Ser Arthur, where's Lady Ashara?" He asked, tired of waiting; the man said nothing but walked inside a room; following him, they reached a room that looked like a library; there were books everywhere and a desk standing in the centre of the room.

Ned figured this must be the solar of the lord of the castle.

"My sister is in the infirmary", he stated, and Ned felt his breath stuck in his throat. He walked forward and looked at the Knight straight in the eye.

"Show me to her," he said, no demanded. Ser Arthur called a guard, and Ned followed him behind to the infirmary. Soon he reached the rooms and looked shocked to see Asha lying on a bed, looking downwards at a small bundle in a small bed close to hers.

Ned felt his head fuzzy. There she was but the baby? Who's baby? Was it his? He shooked his head in denial but then looked again, and he felt his breath stuck in his throat like a blade. Oh No, No. NO.

Ashara looked at the man in front of her; she smiled and saw that he had lost all colour of his face. He looked as white as the snow of the North. His hands had started shaking, and she was sure she could hear his heartbeat around the room. Asha was sure Ned would fall to the floor.

"Is it good to see you, my lord?" she said, unsure of how Ned would feel to see her again and slowly getting up from the bed. Ned kept his gaze at the bundle before his eyes met hers. At that moment, he was back in the Tourney of Harrenhal again, their dance, her beautiful eyes hunting him like a wolf, and he was the prey.

He felt relieved and happy, a smile slowly spread across his cheek, he felt his eyes watering, without thinking he threw his arms around her and hugged her for dear life.

"Asha", he whispered, almost afraid that if she left his grasp, she would disappear. Asha slowly moved her head away and looked at his face.

"Is good to see you, Ned", she whispered and leaned forward to kiss his lips, but he pulled away, shaking his head and lowering his eyes in shame.

"I'm sorry, Asha, I-I Am Sorry. I have ruined everything. I betrayed you. I promised you that we would be together, but I betrayed you. I couldn't keep my promise. I Betrayed YOU," he said, keeping his gaze away from her and feeling that she would start yelling at him at any moment.

She slowly put her hand on his shoulder, and he turned to look at her face again.

"I'm not angry at you, Ned, and you had no choice in this matter. I understand," she said despite feeling that losing the rebellion would have probably been better for Ned. Elia and her children would be alive.

Ned felt lost in words; he didn't know what to say; he wanted to say something, anything. But all the words had died on his throat.

Finally finding his voice. "I . . . I'm sorry," he said again, but this time Asha hugged him close and caressed her cheek against his hair.

"Is not your fault", she whispered in his ear before silence took over the room. She wanted him to understand that he had little other choices in that matter; Ned sighed in relief and hugged her back, his eyes closed and enjoying her scent. His eyes were watering, and hot tears rolled down his cheek.

The silence was broken when he heard a slight movement in the room. His eyes opened, and he turned to look at the small bundle, moving her hands around. Her eyes were only half-open, but Ned could see her violet eyes like her mother.

He swallowed hard, his eyes looking at her tiny body, taking it all in. She wasn't even a month old, but Ned recognised the chin of the Stark in her face. His eyes watered slowly, and he smiled at the little girl who didn't look scared of him. She wasn't asking for her mother but just looking at the strange man looking down at her. Almost like she could recognise him.

A smile slowly spread in her tiny face and brightened up the whole room. Ned felt something he hadn't felt before. He felt his heart beating on his throat and his hands slowly shaking. He wanted to hold her in his arms and not let anything wrong ever happen to her.

"W-what's he-er Name?" He asked, not being able to look away from her. Her eyes were as beautiful as her mother's.

Ned felt a hand on his shoulder and a face smiling close to his. "Alysanna", she whispered kindly and softly to him. She kept the last name 'Sand' to herself for now.

"Such a Beautiful Name for a beautiful girl", he whispered, wanting to hold her in his hands but afraid that he would drop her. Instead, he just kept looking at her, almost hypnotised.

Asha seemed to understand his hesitation; she took a step closer and grabbed her, and put her in her arms. Aly moved her baby hands to her chest and opened her mouth with no teeth. She slowly sat at the edge of the bed; she moved away from her upper clothes and fed her daughter.

Ned looked away and decided to give her some privacy. "She's adorable," he said and turned to leave.

"Stay, Ned. I'm sure Aly would want to get to know her father," she said, hoping that Ned would stay with her. Ned stopped in front of the door, and he glanced behind his shoulder. He sighed and turned to Asha. He smiled, looking at her; right now, only Jaehaerys, Alysanna and Ashara could make him smile.

He walked and sat close to her, his head resting on her shoulder and looking at their daughter, thinking of what the future would bring for his daughter. Would she be safe here? Would she be happy? What about when she thinks of marrying?

"Asha I . . . What do you want me to do? Tell me Can I do something for You? I Will Do Everything," he whispered seriously. Asha listened to him and shooked her head in denial.

She knew what Aly needed, and what she needed was both of her parents with her. A child needs both parents, not just the mother or just the father. She wanted to say that the only thing he needed to do was to stay here and raise their daughter together and be happy together, but she knew Ned had already married and consumed his marriage with Catelyn Tully. His place was in Winterfell.

"You can't do anything, just stay here for a little bit", she whispered, holding her . . . their daughter with love, her fingers caressing her fat baby cheek. Her violet eyes looked so beautiful.

Ned said nothing but kept his gaze at their daughter and just wanted to enjoy this moment.

Arthur Dayne

He saw Ned Stark leaving the solar. He turned to look at his commander, finally having privacy to talk about the future of the King.

"Ser Gerold, what are our plans?" Arthur asked, knowing they planned to reach Sun's Spear and talk with Prince Doran and Prince Oberyn, and he wasn't very looking forward to it. He knew Elia's letter must have arrived by now, but he would protect his king if Prince Oberyn would try anything against them. He knew the man was against harming children, but he didn't know how far could he go in the heat of the moment.

His commander turned to Oswell, resting his sword on his left knee and cleaning it with a wet cloth.

"We bring the king to Sun's Spear and raise him there. We will stay there to ensure his safety," Ser Gerold stated quietly, not wanting anyone outside the room to hear. After all, walls had ears.

Ser Arthur sighed quietly. "I understand, but we will need an army and as much as I hate to admit to, but Dornish army won't be enough and even with the help of the North won't be enough", he started, thinking that the support of The North would be good to have, that brought a few problems. River lands had betrayed The Targaryens, and there was no way Hoster Tully would support Prince Jaehaerys. For all, he knew the king would most likely marry his firstborn son with any daughter Lord Stark might have to join their families. That left only The Reach that had barely fought in the rebellion.

Arthur didn't trust them; House Tyrell is House Lannister but with flowers. Arthur knew his king would probably need help from Essos, perhaps the Golden Company, but they only supported the Blackfyres, but they have perished since Ser Barristan killed the last one. Would they be willing to support Prince Jaehaerys for a reasonable price? Arthur didn't know.

"Very well, Commander, we will stay here only for a few days before making our way to Sun's Spear", Ser Arthur replied and got a nod from both of his brothers.

"Is what Prince Rhaegar left for Jaehaerys secured?" Arthur asked seriously.

"Yes, but I still they're just lifeless stones, beautiful stones, but that's all they are."

Doran Martell

After his brother destroyed yet another excellent bottle of wine, Doran decided that he had had enough. It had been two weeks since the news of King's Landing had arrived at Sunspear, and it was chaos everywhere. The Prince of Dorne supposed it was chaos everywhere, though. He waved his hand, and Areo Hotah stepped forward, locking gazes with his younger fiery brother. In a low voice, Doran said,

"Enough, Oberyn, I have already told you that I was aware of Rhaegar and Lyanna and that our sister was part of their plans."

"How! How could she have agreed to such a thing! How Could You!"

"Because I had Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia both approving to me, she even threatened me, and you know how our sister was too threatening."

"And you still allowed this?"

"He was the Crown Prince of Westeros, all of Westeros. Besides, I could see it in his eyes and Elia's that they were going to marry the Stark girl regardless. At least this way, we could get something out of it."

"What could he possibly give to you that would make it all worth it?"

Oberyn had stopped pacing by that time, and Doran relaxed a tiny bit. He was still a viper, though, so he continued to speak softly.

"I had his word and signature that Aegon and Rhaenys would be well before any children of him and Lyanna in terms of succession. No matter what, Dornish blood would have reigned upon the Iron Throne. And Elia would still be his Queen, Rhaegar would have two Queens."

"But the shame, the dishonour."

"To some, perhaps there would be. But look me in the eyes and tell me our sister would have been one of those people shaming the boy. Tell me she would have hated him, would have scorned him for who he was. Go on, tell me that is what our sister would have done with the boy."

Oberyn glared at him, his hands in his hair before he let out a long sigh and slapped them against the table. His voice was low and defeated, and Doran finally relaxed.

"She would have loved him like she would one of her own. Our sister always loved more with her heart than she ever thought with her mind."

"I agree. Now we must speak of our plans regarding the prince."

"When will they arrive?" Oberyn asked and grabbing a bottle of wine, and started drinking it like water.

Doran shrugged his shoulders, not knowing the exact day, but the letter informed them that they would stop by Star Fall before making their way to Sun's Spear.

"I'm not quite sure if they took a boat, they would be here within two weeks, but if they arrive on a horse, it will take almost a month", he replied, scratching his head.

Oberyn had relaxed and put the empty bottle on the table before whipping away the wine left on his mouth with his sleeve. He sighed.

"If that's so. That means you want to support him on the Iron Throne and not Viserys Targaryen," his brother asked, but more like a statement. Doran smirked; despite being known as a hothead, Oberyn was bright too.

"That's true, I still don't know where the Targaryen children are, and even If I did, Viserys is not the rightful heir, and we both know our sister had already accepted this boy as her son, we supporting someone else would be like pissing on her grave and memory" Doran stated thoughtfully with a hint of coldness on his tone.

Oberyn nodded his head in agreement. "If that's the case, he will need to be a good warrior, and I think I can help with an army from Essos if needed" he started thinking of this 'boy'.

Doran nodded his head in agreement. "Yes, that's true, the letter mentioned that they have already planned to raise him here, with us; he will be a dornish through and through", Doran suggested.

Oberyn pressed his lips into a thin line, and after a few minutes, he nodded his head.

"You're right for that," he said, and the red viper stood up on his legs.

"I will go to relax", he stated before walking away, leaving a smirking Doran. He turned his head to his loyal guard and gave him a sign with his head.

"Bring my daughter here."

Ashara Dayne

Ned had fallen asleep on her bed in the infirmary, Aly was sleeping quietly, Asha felt happy that her daughter was a quiet child, only cried when she was alone or surrounded by people she didn't recognise.

Ashara was walking through the palace; she wanted to see her brother again and see the third child of Prince Rhaegar.

She felt a hint of anger when she thought of Rhaegar's third child; Asha had nothing against prince Jaehaerys but more against his father, she knew Elia had agreed for Lyanna to be his second wife, but Ashara couldn't help but think that if Rhaegar hadn't met Lyanna, the war wouldn't have happened. Elia and her children would still be amongst them.

She remembered Princess Rhaenys and Prince Aegon; she had been there when Elia had given birth to Aegon, she remembered the smile on her face when she saw him, and all that was gone.

Elia was gone and brutally slaughtered like a pig; Ashara stopped her thoughts; she didn't want to think of how could have been the last moments of Elia in this world. She felt a tear on her eye and used her sleeve to wipe it away.

She soon reached the door of Prince Jaehaerys; Ashara was sure that his brother would be here protecting him; opening the door and walking inside, she saw the woman who was taking care of the prince. Ned told her that her name was 'Wylla'. Her eyes immediately noticed her brother standing close to a small bed.

Her eyes saw the bundle in the small bed and Prince Jaehaerys quietly sleeping; his small face brought a small smile on her face, he had no hair in his head right now, but she was sure he would have his mother's dark hair like a crow.

His eyes closed, and his cheeks looked fat and a hint of red around his face, his mouth only slightly open.

She soon felt hands embracing her and saw his brother close to her. Ashara returned the hug, but her eyes kept focusing on prince Jaehaerys.

"It's good to see you, Asha," Arthur said happily and smiled at her. Arthur pulled away and slowly led her closer to the prince of Westeros.

"He looks beautiful", Asha whispered and kneeled and softly touched his cheek; Jaehaerys reacted by a small smile spreading on his little face, making a laugh sound coming from his mouth.

Ashara giggled at his reaction and fought the urge to put him in her arms and see him from closer. Ashara sat close to her brother, who looked to be in a world of his own.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur turned his head to her, "How's my niece?" He asked, not exactly knowing if it was a boy or a girl, but Asha had told him that she had a feeling that she would be a girl.

Ashara smiled at her brother, "She's fine; Ned is sleeping close to her. She's healthy, violet eyes and dark hair. Her name is Alysanna," she replied, a smile not leaving her face.

Arthur felt relieved that his niece was healthy; she had a beautiful name, he decided to see her soon, right after Ser Oswell or the commander woke up and could guard the king.

"That's good to hear, but I want to talk about Lord Stark, he promised you. . . " he was interrupted by his sister.

Ashara put her hand on his shoulder. "Ned is not guilty, Lord Tywin and his dogs killed Elia and her children, Robert killed Prince Rhaegar, it was up to Ned, he would never harm Elia", she interjected. She fully believed that Ned would never harm them; she was sure that he would try to help them.

Arthur sighed but not wanting to argue with her. Ashara could tell her brother wanted to say something but instead kept quiet.

"What about your daughter Ashara? What will be her future?" Arthur asked, concerned about the future of Alysanna.

"She will be raised here, and once she's old enough, she will have her future. I'm sure we can give her a keep somewhere to live happily with whoever she marries with," she replied, thinking that if Prince Jaehaerys could become king, he could legitimate her daughter and make her a Dayne or a Stark if Ned approved of it.

"I understand; Aly can sometimes come in SunSpear if you want" Arthur suggested a way for Aly to befriend Prince Jaehaerys. He would need friends there, and Aly could be a good friend.

Ashara nodded in agreement liking the idea; Aly would need people of her age to be friends with. There weren't any around Star Fall, so visiting SunSpear would be an excellent opportunity to have friends.

"Arthur, what is your plan after you reach Sun's Spear?" Ashara asked quietly; her eyes focused on the small bundle moving his arms around and making small noises.

She glanced at the wet nurse that had fallen asleep.

"If prince Doran agrees to keep Jaehaerys in Sun's Spear, then I will stay by my king to protect him. I will make sure he becomes the king and earn his rightful place as King of Westeros" Arthur spoke with passion, a passion Ashara had heard in his voice only when he talked about Rhaegar.

She managed a small smile on her face; she would want her brother to stay here with his family, but she knew it would be a waste of breath to try and convince him otherwise.

"I understand Arthur, and I'm sure with you by his side, he will become a good king like his namesake", Ashara replied, smiling at the passion of her brother.

They heard a slight sound and turned to see Jaehaerys moving his arms around and making small cry noises; Arthur was about to go and wake the wet nurse when Ashara stood up and grabbed him in her arms.

Asha looked down at him, his eyes open and looking at her curiously, almost like she was an exciting piece of the puzzle; his eyes reminded her so much of Rhaegar. It was his eyes. Jae stared at her before a small smile spread in his little mouth and moved his baby hands towards her face.

She giggled at his cute behaviour and put her finger on his little hands; he tried to grab it and put it in his mouth. He left out a laughing noise.

Arthur smiled at the interaction between his sister and Prince Jaehaerys. He stood up and left the room, leaving his sister to take care of the prince.

Asha saw him leaving and started feeding the tiny prince, who looked hungry. She softly touched his little head.

"You're Beautiful, Jae", she whispered, smiling.

Chapter 4 (The Last Promise)

Jaime Lannister

' Aerys Targaryen, the Second of his Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms tumbled down the stairs of the dais upon which the Iron Throne rested, and leaving a bloody smear on the stone floor. Ser Jaime Lannister breathed slowly and heavily as he stood on the stone steps, his sword dripping with the fallen king's blood, and he slowly turned his head to gaze upon the Iron Throne.

Countless swords fused by Dragonfire, beaten into the shape of a throne to represent Aegon the Conqueror's unification by force of the lands of Westeros centuries ago, and as a reminder to his descendants that no king should sit easy. How unfortunate, though, that so many of them seemed to forget that second part.

For a moment, Jaime wondered how it would feel to sit on the throne, and then he looked at the fallen king's dead body. And then he looked back at the throne, and then in the direction of the windows and the sound of the city beyond being put to the sword by the army of the west.

House Lannister's army...his father's army...

Jaime glanced back at King Aerys as he lay dead on the ground and then back to the Iron Throne. Unbidden, he heard the words of Prince Rhaegar ghost through his mind, the exact words he had spoken before he had gone to that bloody field in the north.

I leave my family in your care, Ser Jaime.

Jaime closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The choice was made. The white cloak of the Kingsguard billowing behind him, and without bothering to sheath his sword, Jaime rushed out of the throne room and ran for the Maidenvault. If his father would go to such ends to curry favour with the Lord Baratheon, then there was no doubt what fate would befall the Crown Princess and her children at the hands of his father's bannermen.

Heedless of what few, terrified servants were left trying to hide or flee the Red Keep or the sounds of fighting elsewhere, Jaime swept through the stone halls. As he turned the corner leading to Princess Elia's chambers, he heard a door breaking down, followed by the shouting of a terrified yet defiant woman. With mounting horror, Jaime saw the princess' door, and he ran as fast as possible.

"Gregor Clegane..." he thought in disgust as he ran over the ruined door. "...a brutishly pathetic excuse for a lord and more so for a knight..."

"Get away from her!" Jaime roared as he spotted the giant brute reach for the princess and her son, trapped as they were in a corner. Gregor turned his head and raised his sword at Jaime's shout, but Jaime was already moving, dropping to one knee and swinging at Gregor's knee.

With his back turned to Jaime, the Kingsguard's sword easily sliced into the gap between the armour plating and separated the man's leg from his thigh. Roaring in pain and fury, Gregor fell...and with a shout of rage, Jaime finished the job, stabbing down at his neck and twisting the blade.

Not again

Through the man's visor, Jaime could see the so-called Mountain's eyes widen in shock before going dark.

"Ser Jaime..." Elia began weakly as Jaime pulled his sword out. The knight looked at her.

"My princess..." he said breathlessly. "...hurry...go and find something to cover yourself with... I will go and find Rhaenys. We must leave, and soon."

Elia nodded and rushed to her cabinets but not before shouting after Jaime that Rhaenys had gone and hidden in her father's chambers. Jaime was grateful, as he'd probably have wasted time looking elsewhere.

A shrill scream sounded as Jaime approached the crown prince's chambers, and while later on, Jaime would wonder with morbid amusement at how he always seemed to be arriving at the nick of time; at the time, he only felt urgency. He turned the door and spotted yet another one of the pathetic excuses that passed for knights in Westeros: Ser Amory Lorch.

And he was raising a dagger over the desperately struggling form of the princess.

Not again

"No...!" Jaime shouted as he ran forward, Lorch looking up in surprise. And then the man was screaming as Jaime's sword cut of his hand at the wrist, Rhaenys scrambling away and pressing herself against a wall as Jaime used his sword's pommel to hammer Lorch away.

"Ser Jaime...why...? Your father..."

Jaime breathed a sigh of relief, and he saved them. He didn't fail them. He didn't fail ... again.

He didn't get to finish as Jaime cut off his head with one swing. Footsteps caught his attention, and he turned only to see ... Rhaegar.

Jaime wanted to smile when he saw prince Rhaegar, but his face changed from happiness and relief to horror when he saw him. He was wearing the same armour the last time he saw him, but his chest was crushed, armour smashed in, blood coming out of his mouth, strange dark blood.

He felt a lump on his throat. He couldn't talk, he couldn't breathe, his air was stuck in his throat. He felt tiny blades piercing his skin.

Rhaegar looked at Jaime, emotionless, his face pale like snow, his lips looked like a dark purple, his purple eyes slowly losing their colour and turning white, worms started coming out his skin, eating him, a dead man.

"Why did you betray me?" He talked with a cold tone.

Jaime wanted to shake his head, he tried to say sorry, to say anything, but no matter how hard he tried, no words were coming out of his mouth.

Elia held a dead baby in her arms, looking at him with a massive slash across her stomach from being cut in half from the Mountain.

Suddenly he turned around, looking at Rhaenys smiling at him, her face normal and Alive.

"Ser Jaime, protect my little brother" '

Jaime gasped and looked around the darkness of his room, his eyes desperately looking for anyone, but he didn't find anyone. His heart beating on his throat like a hammer slowed when he understood that it was a dream.

The emotions suddenly came crashing down on top of him like a hammer; taking a deep breath, he swallowed back the tears, and his mind remembered what she said.

Protect my little brother

Rhaella Targaryen

The days were slowly passing by, and with them, Rhaella's belly enlarged bit by bit. It was already noticeable as almost three months had passed since Maester told her that she was pregnant, so she should be six or seven months in by now?

She hoped the child would live this time even if their future were uncertain...So many children had come from her womb, and yet only two of them survived more than a couple of months...and only one of them living still...the Gods were cruel, but such was the nature of things. Perhaps if she turned to a different sort of Gods...like the old ones ...

But if the child lived, it would need to endure a world where they fell from grace thanks to her stupid brother-husband and his paranoia and his madness, and Gods know what else was in that broken head.

Her family survived so many challenges: the Faith Militant's Uprising, Maegor's battles against Aenys' sons, the Dance of Dragons, the Blackfyre Rebellions, and numerous other conflicts, only for her mad brother to end it all by angering half the realm into a war that could be avoided. She wondered what her ancestors would think of this...she was ashamed to even think of it and even more ashamed she was because it happened during her tenure as the Queen...

She had been a meek and weak creature who submitted to Aerys and allowed him to do as he pleased...but at least now she had some freedom for herself because he wasn't around, no more raping, and plenty of opportunities to be with her remaining son. Still, for every bit of joy she felt, she felt sorry that her grandchildren and daughter-in-law were not allowed to come with her into safety.

But this safety would not last long if she was to guess, so Rhaella began contemplating sending the two Dornish ladies-in-waiting back to their homes because she feared what could happen next, and she did not wish them to be harmed...

And to had to all of her worries, the situation in Dragonstone seemed to be getting worse by the day as well...There were little more than two thousand men holding the island. They were with their morale low as Ser Jacaerys Velaryon had told her a day ago, the handsome and young knight that looked so much like her now-deceased Rhaegar albeit with a much happier expression.

This low morale was due to the conflicts in the leadership of the garrison caused by the animosity between Lord Lucerys Velaryon, Master of Ships to her husband and one of his lickspittles, and Ser Jacaerys himself, Lucerys' former pride and joy of a son. The older Velaryon had given his son the right to choose a maid of his choice to marry, with the only condition being that she belonged to a noble and prestigious House. Still, the younger man chose the Lady Hailey Rykker of Duskendale, daughter of the first Lord Rykker of Duskendale, Elwood Rykker.

The Rykkers were knights in the service of the now extinct House Darklyn who got the wealthiest seat of Duskendale following the Defiance as Elwood Rykker had been one of Aerys' lickspittles for long. They were from an ancient line of Andal knights. Still, they never held a seat on thus, Lucerys deemed them unworthy of marrying into a proud and prestigious family like House Velaryon. His son, however, saw the immense potential that the trade between Driftmark and Duskendale had and married the woman, bringing great prosperity to both ports, much to Lord Lucerys' dismay.

The relationship between father and son was never the same, from the pride of Lucerys' brood to his excommunicated child, Ser Jacaerys had dropped a lot, but not in many people's eyes such as Rhaella's, the man was polite and gallant, with an easy smile that made everyone feel more relieved and the wits to make him a good ally. Lucerys was very smart too but less pleasant, especially with the years accumulating.

Things got worse when young Lady Hailey Rykker came to visit Rhaella. Still, most of all, show Ser Jacaerys the son he hadn't had the chance to see yet because of the war and his confinement in Dragonstone after suggesting Aerys bring Rhaegar to the battlefield, which her stupid brother ended up doing. Lucerys was so insufferable with his daughter-in-law that Rhaella was disgusted and could not stand him anymore, yet she had to because she was the Queen, and she was supposed to show temperance. But Gods did she hated it!

While the Dornish ladies were entertaining her son because he was so full of energy, Rhaella was in her room to rest a little because the pregnancy and the uncertainty of things left her weak and nervous, bad symptoms for a pregnant woman. The presence of the Velaryon baby in his mother's hands was a welcoming sight, however. "He is a handsome baby, your little Jaehon." Rhaella proclaimed as she cooed the dark brown-haired and dark brown-eyed boy who shared his mother's colouring but whose facial features were of a true Valyrian. He had very pale skin and somehow looked like her Rhaegar did when he was a baby...quiet and watchful...it made her feel tearful...she missed her son so much...

There were many rumours about the cute baby boy not being his father's because of the colouring, but Rhaella couldn't believe in any of it. She thought the whole thing started from Lucerys' mouth...to destroy Lady Hailey's image. Frankly, Lucerys reminded her too much of Aerys. However, fortunately, he still had a brain in him to not look or act like her brother-husband, or she suspected a more significant conflict within House Velaryon would erupt...and now it was not the time for it.

"Thank you, My Queen. I'm certainly flattered for having your approval." The Rykker woman smiled as she cooed her baby too.

"Do not mind those rumours, child." Rhaella smiled too, trying to sound reassuring and noticing that little Jaehon's eyes were not dark brown as she thought. Still, a weird tone of purple...it was so dark it looked black, but in reality, they seemed like the colour of the dragon glass that was so prevalent on the islands of Dragonstone and Driftmark... "I only see his father in the boy's face and with the proper light...his eyes do look purple, dragonglass purple."

"I'm glad I'm not the only one who sees it..." The lady sighed, defeated. "I have honoured my husband as any wife should...I fell in love with him and him with me if his words were to be trusted. I almost died while giving birth to our son, and I can't have any anymore and yet...and yet people think I cuckolded Jace...What harm have I done to the world for the world to be so bad to me?"

The Lady Hailey was such a pleasant young woman who somehow reminded Rhaella of when she was twelve being married to Aerys...she felt pity for this woman and wanted to do more than comfort her. Still, she had little power to do so...the best she could do was to send Lucerys away from their rooms... "Worry not because everything will turn out fine, and your son will be the greatest Velaryon of all time, I tell you that much."

Lady Hailey chuckled. "My Queen...it will be hard to surpass the likes of Corlys the Sea Snake or Alyn Oakenfist...I just want him to be a good person and good knight...like his father."

"I suppose that is a good objective, to begin with," Rhaella admitted. "And people will know how good of a person you are soon, believe it."

"Thank you, My Queen, you are so very kind to me." The woman admitted. "But I fear what will happen to you and the children? Jace tells me the morale of the troops here is degrading at a fast rate...There has been no news of King's Landing, but the most likely outcome is that the Rebels took it...so they are likely to target Dragonstone and Driftmark very soon..."

"It's nothing serious, I'm sure..." Rhaella lied, growing more anxious with the talk, for she did not know what would happen next. "Everything will be alright, and you should go put your son to sleep...how old is he? Can you tell this Queen that much?"

"He was born on the eleventh month of last year and is just a couple of weeks from reaching his first nameday, My Queen." The little one was a few months younger than her grandson...she wondered if they would be friends if the two survived...a Targaryen alone in the world is a dreadful thing...

A knock on the door interrupted their speech and thoughts. "My Queen, it's Ser Jacaerys and Maester Rudiger. We bring news from the capital."

Oh, please let them be good news... "Come in," she replied without hesitation, and both men entered. Maester Rudigen was older than her by twenty-two years if she remembered well but was still a bright mind even if he was not...too lovely...Ser Jacaerys' smile was as contagious as ever, and it made the two women in the room smile.

"Hailey, how are you?" The Valyrian asked of his wife as he planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Good enough."

"And your little one? Are you good?" The baby looked attentively at his father and then extended his little hand to catch his father's finger. "I guess you are..." The Velaryon chuckled. "Anyway, I will not ask My Queen if she is well because I think it's best if I wait for her to read the letter and see if things look bad or good. Maester."

"Here, My Queen." The Maester gave her the letter, which Rhaella opened and read quickly and with much anticipation.

He sat outside the chambers with the heir to the throne next to him. Ser Willem Darry, the last loyal member of the Kingsguard, listened as the Queen's screams rattled through the halls. The storm outside was ferocious, and the knight could barely fathom the idea that the thunder that roared was softer than the cries of Her Grace. The boy next to him fidgeted with his fingers, turning over and over one of his father's rings. The news from King's Landing had come swiftly on the words of the Spider: the usurper was planning a siege on Dragonstone. If the old knight hadn't known any better, he would have thought that this news was what sent Rhaella Targaryen into labour. But now, he sits with Viserys, for the birthing chamber was not for a man.

"I hope it's a girl," The knight heard Viserys whisper to himself, "Mother always wanted a girl."

Darry smiled softly; perhaps the boy could be saved from his family's madness. He remembered the old saying of how with every Targaryen, a coin is flipped. Apparently, Aerys' coin had landed on the wrong side while Rhaella's on the right. Rhaegar however? It was said to be poor to speak ill of the dead, but the knight couldn't help but honestly believe that Rhaegar's coin had still been spinning when he had reached manhood, a coin refusing to land. He would have been a great king, but for what he did with the Stark girl? Nay, that was the very madness that would have to lead the kingdom to ruin. Viserys, the young boy that he was, was prone to fits of rage, especially after Aerys had attempted to take him under his wing. The boy could be trained to be something great with a firm hand and a king's heart. Perhaps even a better king than Rhaegar would ever have been.

"Would you not wish a brother, your grace?" the knight questioned, fearing the answer he might receive. But Viserys shook his head, "No, a mother deserves to be happy." Darry would have let the matter lie except for the next thing that came out of the young boy's mouth, said in nothing but a whisper. "I heard the servants talking about how father used to treat the mother. H-How could someone be so cruel? They couldn't have been telling the truth, could they, Ser Willem?" The old knight narrowed his eyes at the ground, his hands folding into one another as he tried to formulate a valid response.

"You being quiet tells me all I need to know then."

"Perhaps it would be a conversation for you and your mother, your grace. It is not of the Kingsguard to speak ill of the king."

"But I am your king now, aren't I?" the boy questioned, "Mother crowned me herself; you were there! I am the king, not that man that killed Rhaegar."

The boy was smart; he'd give him that. "My apologies, your grace, for it-"

Cries of a babe filled the corridor before Willem Darry finished his sentence. He shot up, his hand instinctively grasping his hilt. A new Targaryen had been born to the world.

"Your grace, please!" The maester cried, "It is not safe for you to hold the child."

"That is my child, maester, and you will let me hold her."

Rhaella could feel herself getting weaker and weaker with each passing breath. No, she couldn't die; she couldn't leave her children in the world. A Targaryen alone in the world was a terrible thing. Oh, Viserys, he was still so young, so malleable. If placed in the wrong hands, she could see the boy turning out to be just like his father. Aerys, she had tried to love him once, back when he had great ideas that never came to fruition. But like those very ideas, she couldn't bear to look at him any longer than she had to. Their children, born of rape, she despised the man and would until her very last day. Her brother, her husband, her king. Could the same be said of Viserys and this newborn girl? The maester finally gave into Rhaella's demands and placed the babe in her arms. The Queen choked back a sob as she was reminded of Shaena, their first daughter who had been born stillborn. She would have been Rhaegar's bride, no doubt, even with the age difference. Eight years, the same as between Viserys and her new child.

Pain ripped through the Queen, and she let out another scream, the child in her arms crying as well. The maester took the child and yelled orders at his assistants; the room was turning dark.

No, you cannot die.

Many women died in childbirth, her own dear friend Joanna Lannister had died in childbirth, but she was determined not to be one of them. Rhaella felt the Stranger's cold hands grasp around her neck, pulling her down, but Rhaella was a dragon, and she would defeat a god if she must. The Targaryens were worshipped as gods once if she remembered the stories correctly, and if they were worshipped as the Seven were, then she could defeat him. With all her strength, Rhaella kept her eyes open and focused on the new babe.

Viserys was growing ever impatient as his mother refused to let him in. The maester had brought Ser Willem aside and explained everything in gruesome detail. It was one of the many times in his life that the Kingsguard was thankful he was not a maester.

"What if it's a boy? What if she wants him to be king instead of me!?"

Paranoia, no, it must not happen.

"Your grace, your mother is very weak right now. I am sure her grace does not wish for you to see what a mess it is in there". Surely, I don't. This seemed to satisfy the prince for a few moments until he saw yet another servant walk into the room and bar the door behind them. The knight rolled his eyes at the boy, who started to fume once more, and instead of scolding him as a father would, he pressed his hand on his shoulder.

"You're worried for your mother; that is an admirable trait, your grace. Always keep that in mind, especially when you take the throne."

The young prince smiled up at the knight, "Thank you, Ser Willem, and I'll remember your words often."

Gah, it hurt the man's heart hearing the boy try to sound wiser than his years. Perhaps the death of his father would be a good thing for the lad. It was good for the kingdom; however, the succession was not what it needed to be. Robert Baratheon, bah, the usurper, would one day find himself trapped with the traitorous Lannisters with nothing but a cry for help. He would gladly become a kingslayer just to put Viserys back on the throne.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, the door creaked open, and the maester bowed his head.

"Your grace, Ser Willem, the queen would like to see you both."

Viserys all but bounded into the room to see his mother; Ser Willem, however, followed at a more respectful pace and distance. A smile was brought to his face when the Queen hugged her now eldest child and wiped away his tears. Should he be intruding on this moment? Nay, she had requested him here as well.

"I thought I was going to lose you," Viserys whispered to his mother through the tears, but Rhaella ran her fingers through his long silver-blonde locks and hummed softly. A wet nurse carried the new child and handed it to Rhaella.

"Viserys, my sweet, I wish for you to meet your sister."

A smile broke out on Viserys' face, a girl! While it was now only Viserys who would be able to further the Targaryen name, at least there was another heir to the throne should something happen to him. "What is her name?" the knight asked, knowing he was intruding on a tender moment.

"Daenerys, her name is Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen."

"Listen to me, Viserys, no matter what happens, always protect your sister, promise me", she pleaded with a weak voice.

Viserys looked at her in confusion. "Muna, y-you will be-e the-ere!" Viserys asked with tears running down his cheek.

"Promise me", she pleaded again, and Viserys swallowed and nodded his head, kissed her cheek.

"I - I promise."

Chapter 5 (My Past and My Future)

Ned Stark

Ned felt the sun shining on his face, his hand in front of his face, slightly closing his eyes; he tried to stand up when he felt a weight on his chest, only now. Ned saw Ashara resting her head on his chest; her naked body pressed firmly against his body, his hands caressing her beautiful hair; he softly moved away her hair covering her face; Ned wondered if this was what it was like to wake up with the person you love.

Ned couldn't remember the last time he felt so fresh, and he felt full of energy, and that just by having Ashara with him.

His eyes looked around the bedchamber, and only now, he saw the small bundle sleeping peacefully in a crib close to their bed.

Is this a Dream? Ned asked himself and wasn't sure if it was, then it was the best dream he ever had. He wanted to stay like this forever, no iron throne, no Robert, and no shame of a broken promise.

But looking at Alysanna, everything returned to his head like a hammer slamming on his face, and he remembered that he had shamed the woman he loved. He had a bastard daughter. At the same time, he felt happier than ever before just by looking at her; he thought it was his fault that she was born a bastard. He had failed both his daughter and Ashara.

He turned to look at her face, just looking at her; he still didn't know what he did to deserve someone like her, he still remembered the first time he met her.

Ashara had once told him what she had first thought of him when she first met him.

'A bit earlier, in that very same night...

"I'm tired," Ashara confessed to Elia as she took a seat next to her at the royal table.

"I can imagine you are..." Elia said, smiling. "How many men have you danced with?"

"Thirteen."

"That many? I might be jealous now..." Elia teased.

"Don't be," Ashara said, while she took a look around the room, to see many men still gazing at her...most of them would probably ask for a dance with her, and most if not all wouldn't give anything for the plot... "Besides being tiring, especially to your feet, most of them were rather dull."

"I see..."

"And why are you here alone? Where are the girls?" she inquired.

"Jasline and Nysah are dancing with some handsome Reachmen, and Ynys is with her betrothed, of course," Elia explained.

"And Rhaegar?"

"Went to bed already to avoid raising suspicions from you know who."

"I see...and what about you, Elia? Have you danced enough for the night?" Ashara inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Me? Oh, I shared a few dances with Rhaegar earlier, one with Arthur and one with my uncle Lewyn and I'm waiting to have one with Oberyn, but I have to confess that I had the most fun right here, contemplating someone who has been watching you quite attentively..." Elia murmured with a smirk.

"He is certainly not the only one," Ashara replied, laughing. Another one who fell in love with her beauty.

"This young man has been watching you since your first dances without stopping..." Elia added. "He is so lost in you that he didn't even notice me staring back at him."

"Has he really?" Ashara couldn't deny that she was rather intrigued now; despite her opinion on this unknown man, not many men would watch her that long without doing anything... "And where is this man you speak of?"

"He is in the North's table," Elia explained. "He is still watching you right now."

She took a look at the said table and saw a man staring at her, and as soon as she laid eyes on him and showed him a teasing smile, he seemed to blush and look to the floor in shame. She was certainly not expecting that reaction, especially in a full-grown man... "He looks rather shy, doesn't he?" she muttered, smiling.

"Apparently, yes." Elia agreed, smiling as well.

"He does look sort of cute." she found herself giggling at the sight. Perhaps she might have misjudged him a little bit...

"Perhaps you could grant him a dance for his admiration to you?" Elia teased. "I mean, he has been watching you for quite some time."

Perhaps I can... "I will wait a bit more, see if he musters the courage to ask me and if not, I will go to him myself..."

"So you are interested in him?" Elia inquired with a raised eyebrow, surprised.

"Maybe a little..." she confessed. "But it's more to tease him than anything..."

"You are evil, and you know that?" Elia rolled her eyes as she said this.

"Oh, I know it quite well..." Ashara replied with a devilish smile.

"Lady Ashara?" A manly voice was heard, and both of them turned to their left to see Lord Jon Connington or, like the girls liked to call him, Jon Connington standing next to them. He was one of Rhaegar's most loyal and trustworthy friends, a diligent man, and overall lovely, but...he was a cunt to Elia, and therefore the girls came up with the name Connington for him.

Rumours in court said he was trying to be more than just one of Rhaegar's friends...that would explain why he was always trying to find flaws in Elia or any woman that got too close to Rhaegar for his taste...

The man in question offered his hand to her with a fake smile that he tried his best to make look genuine. "Would My Lady grant me this dance?" he asked her.

Ashara noticed that Elia was not even looking at him, returning her gaze to her admirer, who now seemed to have some companions. Elia was kind and caring, but she would never allow people to make fun of her, especially Connington. Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken were House Martell's words, and Elia was a Martell after all.

"I will," she replied with courtesy, like always, and took his hand, despite not liking the man. She had to admit that she was pretty surprised by his request...perhaps he was trying to discredit those rumours about him?

He led her to the dancing floor, and they started the dance as soon as the next song did, a fast song much to her relief. Her surprise continued as Connington spoke something she did want to hear...

"Would My Lady be so kind as to tell the Prince that besides most of the court backing him up, I can assure him support from some of the Lords in the Stormlands that I met today, not many but a considerable amount," Connington explained. "I can't, however, say what the big stag's intentions are. When the right opportunity arises, I shall give him more details, but I'm afraid it won't be soon as I'm going to spend most of my time with the storm lords to gather their support to the cause."

She nodded and smiled at him. "I shall inform him as soon as it's possible for me, Lord Connington. Thank you."

"Thank you, My Lady," he replied, this time with a genuine smile.

With everything that needed to be said, they went on to finish the dance, not raise unnecessary attention from someone they both knew very well. The tension between both of them was something that anyone could see, and that was bothering Ashara.

"Excuse me, My Lord, may I have a word with the lady?" A handsome stranger asked Connington as soon as the dance ended. Tall, with grey eyes and a dark brown beard and hair, her admirer also had dark brown hair and clothes of the same colour as this stranger, were they related somehow?

"Of course, do go ahead, My Lord," Connington replied and then nodded to her as he left, undoubtedly happy to be free of her and the tension between them, just like she was.

"What does My Lord wish to talk about?" she inquired, interested in his looks, by far one of the most handsome men she had talked with that day...until she saw her admirer being dragged to her by a lady and a young man that looked a lot like him, together with a dark blond man who looked almost like a child due to his size.

"Brandon Stark, My Lady." the stranger said with a smirk. "And these are my youngest brother Benjen and my sister Lyanna. The small man over there is Howland Reed, a crannogman and a friend." he then grabbed her admirer's arm and brought him closer to them. "And this, My Lady, is my middle brother, Eddard Stark."

"Is there a reason why My Lord is introducing your family to me?" she inquired, still wondering what his point was. "I'm certainly delighted to meet each one of you, but..."

"Then I should perhaps cut the crap and go straight to business," he said boldly. "My Lady, we have a rather awkward request to make to you."

"An awkward request?" she asked aloud, not knowing what he meant by that. Were the Starks such complicated individuals?

"Yes...you see...Eddard here confessed to us that he would like to share a dance with you, My Lady, but he is a shy person by nature, and as such he is too shy to ask himself but...would My Lady grant him his wish?" Brandon Stark inquired; she noticed that he had lost his smirk...

Her admirer was gazing at the floor, redder than a tomato, his siblings were all looking at her with worried looks, anticipating that she would rebuke their request somehow...but she found herself interested in the request and on this shy admirer that she had and somehow kept surprising her.

"I accept," she said without hesitation, surprising them all in the process; even her admirer looked at her open-mouthed; his eyes were grey like his older brother, she saw.

"My-my Lady accepts?" Eddard Stark himself asked incredulous, still not believing she was accepting or perhaps on how quickly she replied positively.

"Shouldn't I?" she teased him. She had met many men, but she couldn't remember any of them being as shy and awkward as him.

"Why, of course, you should, My Lady!" The girl, Lyanna joined in, in her brother's defence. "My brother Eddard might be shy, but I assure My Lady that you won't find a better man in the world."

Eddard gazed at the floor, blushing so much that she began to worry if, besides being so shy, he had a fever...So I will not find a better man in the world? "Come, My Lord," she said, smiling as she extended her hand to him. "The next dance will begin shortly, and we can't be late, can we?" '

Jon Connington

The leaves rustled in the gentle breeze, which was fragrant with the exotic scents of Essos. Fruit, rich smelling flowers, with only the mild scent of the sea. With the sound of heavy footsteps, the exiled lord walked through the cheesemonger's estate.

The sun hung above him in the clear blue sky. The weather in Essos was usually sunny, he found. Not the nearly constant rain and winds of the Stormlands, his home. The home he missed, even for its faults. Not that he wanted to go back there now, with the usurper's claws tightly wrapped around Westeros as he sat on the Iron Throne. My princes' rightful throne.

After being exiled after the Battle of the Bells, the former lord of Griffins Roast had been exiled. The defeat still tasted bitter on his tongue. A stain that caused the collapse of an entire house. I should have burnt the whole town to the ground. My prince would still be alive. After hearing of the disastrous battle of the Trident, the lord saw the little point and decided to sell his services to the Golden Company after eating away the few coins he managed to bring with him. Four years ago, he had landed in Essos, and he could still remember the events clearly.

With cautious glances, Connington examined the portly eunuchs on guard around the grounds. Like statues, they stood with their spiked helms. He didn't trust eunuchs, not since Varys – the king's spymaster who swiftly turned his services to the usurper after whispering poison in the mad king's ear. The spymaster wasn't easy to forget in his bright lavender robes and with a scent of sickly sweet flowers clinging to him like the ones used to cover a corpse. The Master of Whispers was always quick to point out anything which could pose a possible threat to the king, only serving to increase Aerys' paranoia.

The grand doors opened for him with a horrible groaning sound, and a slave hurried through the marble corridors. The mansion was much nicer looking than the castles of Westeros, even more, beautiful than ones like Highgarden or the Eyrie. But castles are fortresses first of all. To be defendable against all threats, a palace isn't. However, the high and spiked walls around the villa painted another picture.

The Lysine slave bowed her head before leading him into a small and highly furnished room. "This one requests that you wait, milord. Magister Illyrio needs to be properly informed of your arrival." Connington nodded, and the girl rushed off, almost running by how quickly she moved. Even though slavery was illegal in Pentos, these servants were slaves in all but name.

Thankfully he didn't have to wait long before the doors swung open, and the most obese man he's ever seen walked in. So this is Magister Illyrio. The merchant prince was grotesque, with a yellow fork beard that shuns like gold. His bright red and yellow robes could be the size of a tent, yet they did little to wrap around his fat belly, which almost had his hairy breasts hanging out. How he's not eaten all his gold, I don't know.

"Hello, my friend," the Pentoshi magister said with a laugh, his entire belly bouncing vigorously. "May I welcome you to the fair city of Pentos. Wine, food? It has sure to have been a long ride from the Disputed Lands, I am told. Anything you require?"

Jon shook his head. "It was a long ride. That is why I don't want to waste time. What is it you require?" Bodyguard work was fine for the knight. While it wasn't as glamourous, it was a steady line of work.

Illyrio smiled a sly smile as he nodded. "I heard you have an interesting history, my lord. Exiled by the king after your failure . . . and still loyally follow your prince."

"For serving my prince, I have lost everything I had and could want." My lands, my titles, my honour. But it was losing him which was the worst.

Rhaegar with his silver hair, dark violet eyes which could piece into a man's soul, and the grief he carried around with him.

"It was a shame. You are an inspiring person. To stay so loyal. One of his closest friends and most loyal supporters." He was twisting one of the pongs of his beard.

"Tell me what you want," Jon growled from both frustration and anger. The cheesemonger brought back up all the memories Connington tried to suppress. He had made a life for himself in Essos, serving the Golden Company. Not the one he wanted, but the best an exiled lord who knew how to use a sword could do in a foreign land where the coin was power.

Mopatis's grin returned, the one who made Jon Connington want to smash the merchants' crooked teeth in. "My friend, but what if I tell you that there is something for you to live for." He paused as if for dramatic effect. When Jon didn't respond, the cheesemonger continued, "His son. Rhaegar's son still lives."

What in the seven hells is he talking about? "Aegon?" His silver prince's son? The one which Princess Elia Martell remained bedridden over. No, it can't be. The mountain killed Aegon. He had his head smashed against the wall. "Aegon is dead. Killed during the sack of King's Landing." By the Lannister monsters who killed him, his mother, and his sister. The babe was ripped from his mother's breast before the monster raped the princess with the child's brain still on his hands before crushing her head.

Illyrio shook his head. "A false story people believe, I insure you as it should be. Prince Aegon lives under this roof."

Jon's eyes widened, but he did not let himself be fooled by the magister's words. "What proof?" He wished the eunuchs didn't take his sword, so he could press it to the fat man's throat and see if he kept smirking then.

The magister turned to the slave and nodded. The blonde-haired girl rushed off. "It is simple, my lord. Varys had switched the prince with another . . . one of lesser birth from a family with too many mouths to feed. That was the boy who was killed, not Aegon." He cocked his head. "Do you wish to see him for yourself?"

If he didn't offer, Jon would grab the magister by the neck and demand it. Aegon . . . my silver prince's son. He thankfully didn't have to wait long before another two people entered. A young boy and Varys the Spider.

"My sweet lord," the plump, bold eunuch said he the effeminate way he did. "How pleasant it is to see you've come."

"Don't play games with me," Jon almost growled. What is he doing here? He turned to the boy who was standing by the door, his silver hair hiding his eyes. The exiled lord knelt to examine the boy, raising the child's chin so he could look at the face. The boy seemed desperate to look away and was fidgeting, but after a stern look from Varys, the child looked straight ahead but no less nervous. Connington wasn't surprised by the boys' actions. Rhaenys was similar when he first took the little princess from the mother. But whilst the princess looked more like a Dornish girl, with olive skin and dark hair, Aegon looked completely Valyrian, with barely any traces of his mother.

The Master of Whispers giggled. "He's a smart boy. Courteous, brave, and not the kind of staying in the same place for long." He showed a smile, but not the kind people would find comfortable. "A fan of stories with valiant knights as well. Ser Arthur Dayne, Aemon the Dragonknight, and Ser Galladon of Morne."

Jon wasn't fully listening, instead of examining Rhaegar in the boy's face. It was hard for a child so young. "Aegon?" The child's eyes were purple but a slightly lighter shade than the silver prince. Close enough . . .

"Y-yes," the boy replied shyly, his voice soft and barely hearable. "W-who are you?"

Before Jon could answer, Varys said, "The boy is without a father. One to raise him, one to teach him the ways of the world, and one to help him gain his rightful throne."

Connington felt his chest tighten as he struggled to get out a reply. This is Rhaegar's child, his son, his heir. He swallowed. I failed the father, and I won't fail the son. He stood up and turned to both of them. The child was quickly ushered out. "What will you have me do?"

The spider giggled. "You will help him regain his rightful throne when he is old enough. Ten, fifteen, or even twenty years from now. Anything can happen during that time that can benefit Aegon. No matter what, the Lannister and Baratheon alliance can't last. When the realm is under threat, our young dragon will come and take back what is his." He smiled. "The bards will sing of that day for decades to come."

But Jon wasn't that wide-eyed. "What if anything happens to the boy? What if he is like his mother and weak . . . what if he is like his grandfather?" There was a saying that the gods flicked a coin for every Targaryen.

Illyrio laughed, his chins and belly wobbling. "No need to fear. He's a strong lad, and if he falls from a tree, he's back up it a moment later with even more dedication." His smile grew. "And he's not like his grandfather. That much is certain."

Shy is what he seemed. But Jon didn't know enough about the boy, so he took their word for it. "He's not the last Targaryen. There is Viserys and the girl, Daenerys." The prince was sent to Dragonstone before the fall of King's Landing with Queen Rhaella. The queen died giving birth to the princess, but now the two royals were somewhere in Essos. "What of them? Are they here?"

The magister shook his head. "Whilst Robert believes that Aegon is dead, he knows that the other two are still alive and well. He will be more than glad to kill them. But for now, they are hidden and safe with Ser Willem Darry."

A good man and genuine.

Varys quickly added, "This is a dangerous game I'm playing. If Robert finds out about me, I'll be in danger and with the chance that all our plans are found out and undone. I'm doing my best to protect them, my lord. But I need to keep up the rouse." Jon grudgingly accepted it. "But when they are older, they can reunite. It brings a tear to my eye to think of a family coming back together." He tittered.

Jon glanced at the door where Aegon had left. "You saved the boy, but what about the girl? The princess. Why didn't you save Rhaenys?" He shot a cold stare at the spider. The girl was only three when she was killed by the Lannister's. Stabbed half a hundred times if the rumours were correct. He remembered the little girl staring at him with warm dark eyes and with that black kitten rubbing up against her as she cuddled it.

Varys didn't back down from the stare. He tilted his head slightly and almost showed a sympathetic face. "I couldn't. I wanted to, but I couldn't. A babe like Aegon would be easier to remove from the Red Keep and switch with another. But Rhaenys was older . . . and not many children have Dornish blood in the capital—"

"Not many people have Valyrian blood either."

Varys shook his head. "Blond hair, blue eyes. That was what the boy from Pisswater had. Enough for a child of Aegon's age. But Rhaenys was a different matter . . . I didn't believe they would kill her. Aegon would be in danger because he's a prince and a claimant . . . a girl on the other hand . . . not many in Westeros want a girl to be a ruler. I was hoping that Stark could get there first. He wouldn't have killed Princess Rhaenys even if Robert demanded it—"

"You were expecting Aegon to be killed?" Of course, he would.

The spider nodded. "He's a threat to Roberts reign. Of course, Aegon would be put to death, with Stark knowing or not. Robert Baratheon didn't think twice about the killing of two children, calling them Dragonspawn."

Jon pressed his nails into his palm. I should have razed the town to the ground; He inhaled sharply. "What are the plans for me?"

It was Illyrio who answered. "My lord Connington, you have experience in the Golden Company, and it is known you have a high position within it . . . but not for long. You will have to disappear and fake your death."

"What?" Fake my death?

The spymaster nodded. "You will steal from the company's war chest and die from drinking in your grief. Not a heroic way to go, but that is exactly the point. No one grieves or sings for a common thief and drunkard. Your name will turn to sand and blow in the wind. No one will remember you."

The exiled lord barely restrained his anger. "You ask me to dishonour myself? I have lost everything but my honour, and you ask me to lose that?"

Varys was unfazed. "The need for secrecy is greater than your honour, my lord. This is the safest cause of action. If people remember you, they could follow our trail, as little as it is. It would be easier if people believed you were dead and disgraced. A person is forgotten." He tilted his head. "If you want to avenge your prince, then help us. Help his son gain the throne, which is his and raise him to be the best king. One who the smallfolk can look up to and love, but one what the lords both respect and fear."

Jon lowered his head and clenched his fists. A hard line to walk, eunuch. He exhaled deeply. "I will do so," he said grudgingly. "But be careful; if you try to deceive me or put the boy's life in danger, I will find you and end you." He looked up, and the plump man's face showed some level of fear to Connington's satisfaction.

"Fear not, my lord. I will do nothing of the sort." He smiled that sly smile. The smile Jon didn't trust.

Illyrio smiled. "It has been a long ride, and there is much more to say. I'm sure you'll like some rest, and perhaps you can speak with the boy some more." He chuckled. "Fear not, my griffin. He's shy, but he will talk when he's used to your presence." Jon agreed, and they walked out.

Chapter 6 (A Promise To Keep)

Ned Stark

He felt stiffened; just the feeling of Ashara and his daughter sleeping next to their bed made him not want ever to leave. Closing and opening his eyes again, he moved away slowly from Ashara's grasp, not wanting to wake her up.

Ned stood on his feet, picked up his clothes, and made himself ready for the day, they would leave today for Sunspear, and Ned wasn't looking forward to it. He wanted to stay here and raise his daughter, but he knew he couldn't.

And he knew that another child was waiting for him in Winterfell; he had consumed his marriage with Catelyn Tully more than once; he knew she was waiting for a child. But despite not having that child with the woman he loved, Ned couldn't make himself dislike the children or even love them less than his daughter with Ashara.

Slowly walking towards her crib, almost afraid that he would wake her up, his eyes found her little chubby face; she was only a month old, and yet her dark hair was visible, her nose belonged to Ashara, but just looking at her hair, he knew she had the hair of a Stark. Crow hair and Ned had no doubts that she would grow to be a beautiful woman.

He kneeled, and again, making sure he wasn't making noise, he looked closer to see her, her chest rising; he softly touched her little nose.

Taking a deep breath, he glanced behind him to see Asha in bed sleeping quietly. Turning his head to his daughter again, he leaned closer and kissed her forehead.

"I know I won't be that much in your life, I'm not a good father, but you should know I will Always Love You; your dada loves you, Now and Forever", Ned finished with unshed tears in his eyes.

Standing up, he walked over to the door, his hand on the handle; he turned his head and looked at his family again before opening the door and leaving; Ned didn't know why but he felt that he would see her again; this wouldn't be the last time.

Later

Ned and the king's guard were breaking their fast; they were preparing to leave soon; Ned had visited Jaehaerys this morning to see him; the prince was as healthy as a child could be, Wylla seemed like a decent woman and not someone who would betray them.

Arthur said they would reach Sunspear with a boat; it would take less time and would be safer for the King, Ned didn't object, and a part of him felt that leaving his nephew in SunSpear would be dangerous; he knew the King's Guards were there to protect him. Despite not knowing two of them, he knew they were loyal to his nephew, but Jae would be left alone in Dorne, in a pit of Snakes.

A part of him just wanted to take him, Ashara, and his Daughter to Winterfell, but he knew that option was out of the table.

Arthur suggested trying and making deals with Dorne to improve their 'Friendship'. Ned had thought of it and had decided that it was worth a try; once he returned to Winterfell and truly had The North, he would start improving it.

"Lord Stark, we are leaving" Ned escaped his thoughts when he heard the voice of Arthur; he nodded his head as he stood up, followed closely by Howland.

His friend had been especially quiet today; Ned asked what's the problem, but Howland just said it was something about a dream he saw; Ned hadn't tried to ask more since he knew he didn't understand Greenseer.

Soon they were outside of Starfall in the castle's docks, and a large boat was waiting for them at the docks; Ned had to admit that the boat was large enough to be a ship. He wondered if that was the largest ship that Starfall had.

Ned saw squire boys putting wooden boxes inside the ship, preparing it for the voyage. The captain was a bald man with a big belly, missing teeth; hell, he missed more teeth than he actually had. Ned turned his head and saw Wylla coming towards them; in her arms was his nephew, followed by Arthur, but his eyes were focused on Ashara walking towards him, holding Alyanna in her arms.

Her violet eyes piercing his soul, Ned felt himself drawn to them all over again; he thought he was in The Tourney of Harrenhall when he first saw her.

"Ned", she called him sweetly, stopping close to him; she saw his eyes were focused on their baby girl, who was awake.

"Can I hold her?" Ned asked, almost pleading to her; now she saw that he looked as sad as never before; he was trying hard to look strong in front of her, his eyes were watery, his arms pulled out close to Aly.

Ashara slowly gave her to him; he held her in her arms, her violet eyes looking up at him, a smile slowly spread in her chubby face, almost like she could recognise him.

Ned leaned close and kissed her nose. "I'm your dada, and I Love you so much", he whispered with the softest tone he could muster. His eyes slowly turned to look at Ashara.

"You're an Amazing Father Ned", she whispered to him. Ned said nothing, but he knew that wasn't true; he was not a good father, no he was abandoning his home, his true home, his daughter because of his duties.

Ned closed his eyes tightly, almost expecting this to be a bad dream; opening them, he handed their daughter back to Ashara.

"When she grows older, tell her 'When the snowfall and the white wind blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives' don't Forget to tell her that," Ned said.

"I will", Ashara promised and leaned close and kissed Ned; the quiet wolf stood silent for a second before returning the kiss, almost feeling that would be their last.

Pulling away, he looked at her eyes, "I love you, Asha" " I love you too".

Ned turned his head and walked over to the ship, walking inside the boat, he turned his head to Ashara, who was waving at them.

Ned just kept looking at her; as she was slowly going away, he still kept looking as her figure went further and further away until it disappeared. At that moment, Ned shed a tear.

Sunspear

Ned saw Sunspear slowly showing in front of them, and he had to admit the castle was quite beautiful. The highest tower reached as far as the sun, the spear of the tower piercing the sun, and House Martell's symbol showed in front of him.

Ned was hoping for a calm discussion; he hoped that no swords were drawn and no blood was spilt but knowing that the Whole Dorne was crying for Justice for Elia and her children.

Ned felt his throat as dry as the desert of Dorne; he swallowed nothing, he felt dry in this land, the sun made him feel dizzy. The air itself felt heavy in his lungs; he felt like he wasn't breathing enough air.

It was one thing to go to Starfall and another in the End of Dorne, where even the dragon had fallen. Ned found it ironic, Dorne had killed the first and only dragon killed by humans during flight, and now they were seeking help from them.

That shot was still remembered as the lucky shot of Dorne. Maesters had tried to do the same shot many times, but it was impossible; the chances were almost zero.

Soon the ship reached the docks; Ned saw who he assumed was Prince Oberyn Martell waiting for them at the docks; beside him stood five guarded men with spears; Ned glanced at Howland behind him, he gave him a nod. He walked close to the Prince while Ned stood five feet in the front, suddenly all the dizziness was gone; he could see clearly again.

His hand on the pommel of his sword 'Ice', his eyes slightly narrowed as the King's guard stood beside him.

He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder; he turned his head to see Arthur.

"Don't worry, my lord, Oberyn is many things but a child killer; if he has intentions to harm someone, that would be me?" Arthur said calmly, moving his hand away; Arthur was relieved to see all the guards with Prince Oberyn usually guarded Prince Doran.

The boat soon stopped in front of the docks; birds were flying all around the docks, eating little creatures and whatever they could find. The king's guards were the first to step in the port, followed closely by Ned as Wylla stood behind him and Howland stood behind her.

Ned could see the glare of Prince Oberyn, and it was true; he was glaring at Arthur. His eyes moved away from him and found the little bundle that Wylla was holding; this caused everyone to put their hands on their swords.

Ned expected the prince to walk forward, but he instead stood in his place.

"I hope you had a good journey, my lords; my brother is waiting for you inside", Oberyn spoke with a clear tone.

Ned nodded his head, and soon they started making their ways towards the castle without much of a peep.

As they reached the castle, they passed the streets filled with people; Ned had to move his eyes away from the revealing 'clothes' they were wearing. Many of the ladies were wearing almost transparent dresses.

He knew Dorne was different when it came to their intimate life, but to walk around like that around a crowded street was something Ned wasn't used to.

"Justice for Dorne, JUSTICE for Queen Elia", Ned heard shouts across the street. He saw a man who had gathered people listening to the man in the middle of the gathering as he was yelling that they should kill the Stag King, the lions, and the Wolfs.

Ned moved his eyes away, and soon they found their way inside the castle.

The floor was filled with different colours, with red bricks covered in silk. The carpet lay on all sides of the floor, covering every corner; it was red with thin stripes made of gold thread. The door had gloves made of silver, the symbol of the house Martell placed in front of the entrance to indicate to who this castle belonged.

Walking through the hall, they soon reached a door, the guards opened the door, stepping inside was a man sitting in a chair at the top of the room, beside him stood a man that was quite muscular and big holding a big spear on his right arm.

Walking inside, Ned's eyes checked every corner of the room; he saw the guards had left the room; the only ones that were a danger to Jaehaerys were Prince Oberyn and the guard standing close to Prince Doran; he checked the prince and saw him relaxed.

"Lord Stark", Ned escaped his thoughts and stood in front of the group.

"Prince Doran, Prince Oberyn, you have my consolation for what happened to Princess Elia, Prince Aegon, and Princess Rhaenys. I'm sorry I couldn't protect them," Ned spoke with a sincere tone.

Oberyn hid his surprise behind a mask of anger while Doran just swallowed a breath.

"Thank You, Lord Stark, and you have my consolation for what happened to Lord Stark, your brother, and Princess Lyanna", Doran spoke with a neutral tone before his eyes found the prince.

Ned was surprised by the name he used for Lyanna; he had expected that he and Prince Oberyn would call her various names.

"I know why you are here, my lord; my sister sent a letter to me, telling me about Lyanna" everyone except Arthur and Oberyn looked surprised by this.

Ned swallowed a breath, and he still kept his hand on the pommel of his sword.

"I don't blame you for what happened to Elia; you lost just as much as us, if not more than us. House Martell will stand with House Targaryen," Doran proclaimed with a genuine tone, earning a nod of approval from Oberyn.

This caused Ned to breathe in relief. "My Prince, I would like for my nephew to grow here, and when the time comes, take his rightful place in The Iron Throne," Ned said with a firm tone earning a look of shock and disbelief from Doran and Oberyn.

"Why would you help Stark? I thought Robert was your dearest friend," Oberyn said with a hint of a sneer in his tone, taking a few steps closer to him. Ned turned to look at him with cold fury in his eyes.

"He Was until I heard him laughing at the dead bodies of innocent children. Robert, I knew, died the moment he did that, and I Promised my sister that I would protect him and help him; if Prince Jaehaerys wants the throne, then I will help him," Ned stated, taking a step closer at Oberyn, his gaze not leaving his.

Oberyn kept his gaze at him for a short moment before turning to look at his brother and take a few steps back.

"Yes, we will happily raise him here; he will have the best education; the King's guard and my personal guards will make sure to protect him. Trust me, Lord Stark, your nephew will be Safe Here," Doran claimed.

Ned didn't think of himself as a man of politics, but he was sure that his nephew would be safe here. Ned had thought to bring him in Winterfell with him, but that would bring new problems; he would need to claim that he was his bastard son and Catelyn would never love him; she was a follower of the Seven through and through.

And not to mention that the king's guard following to the North would bring a lot of unwanted attention to both Robert and Tywin.

"Very well", Ned replied and glanced behind at Howland; he nodded in approval, much to his relief.

"Now, before we get to talk about how we will acquire the strength, we need to talk about Prince Jaehaerys", Doran stated, earning a confused look from everyone.

"What about the King?" Prince Oswell asked with a hint of anger in his tone as he took a step forward.

"I meant that we need to hide his name, he will be safe here, but if words were to reach King's Landing that we are calling him Prince Jaehaerys, even a fool like Pyrcell would put two and two together, inside the castle he's safe, but the spider has ears everywhere, and we can't go around calling him Jaehaerys or Prince" Doran stated. Ned couldn't help but agree with his statement.

"What do you expect to do? Treat him like a lowborn," Ser Gerold said with anger through his teeth.

"No, as I said, Prince Jaehaerys will be treated just how my children are treated; he will need to be raised under the name of a bastard until the time comes to tell him the truth", Doran explained.

This earned scorned looks from the king's guard.

"He's right", The commander stated, much to their surprise. But then his eyes found Prince Doran, as a message to be careful with what he says next.

"Who's bastard?"

This caused Doran to turn his head to Oberyn, which made everyone else look at him. Oberyn noticed everyone looking at him.

"What?!" Oberyn asked but soon understood what was happening. He opened his mouth to object immediately, but Doran raised his hand to stop him.

"Brother, Lord Stark already has a daughter with Lady Ashara; we can't tell that is his child; the wrong people would ask why he's being raised here instead of Starfall, you, on the other hand, you're known for..." Doran stopped since he had already made his point clear.

This caused Oberyn to swallow a huge breath and feel like the whole Dorne was crashing on top of him. He wanted to say 'No', but he knew what his sister would say to him if he declined, she would be disappointed. Oberyn had read the letter as many times as he could; he had acknowledged Prince Jaehaerys as her own.

Oberyn stood up and walked towards the young Targaryen; this caused every King's Guard to move their hands on their sword.

"Just want to see him", Oberyn stated, and the woman holding the prince showed him to him, a single glance. Oberyn felt his breath stuck in his throat, his eyes watered, as he looked at the copy of Aegon and Rhaenys; as much as he wanted not to admit it, he couldn't help but see them in him; he was their brother, the only one left.

Jaehaerys opened his eyes, his deep purple eyes found Oberyn, and a smile spread on his lips. That made the viper feel his knee weak. He moved his head away.

"I will raise him as my son if you all agree", Oberyn stated as he looked at everyone in the room. This caused Doran to smile; after a minute, the King's guards nodded as well.

"What will be his name?" Lord Stark asked.

Oberyn just shrugged his shoulder since he hadn't thought of a name.

"Jon, his name can be Jon Sand", Ned stated, earning an approval look from Oberyn.

"Now, we have prepared rooms for you, a warm bath; you can stay here as long as you want," Doran said.

"Thank You, my Prince", Lord Stark replied and followed a servant, soon followed by Wylla and the King's Guard.

Oberyn Martell

His feet made their way towards his bedchamber, followed closely by the woman Wylla; he told a servant to call for his paramour and daughters. They needed to be here.

Reaching his bedchamber, he wanted to introduce Jaehaerys to his sisters; they needed to know about the new family; Oberyn knew lying to them perhaps wasn't the best thing to do, but he didn't want them to hate him in case that would happen if they knew that he was Lyanna's son, thinking that he was their baby brother would make them love him.

Walking inside his bedchamber, he held Jaehaerys in his arms, much to the guard's displeasure, but Arthur stood up for him, saying that he wouldn't hurt the King. Right now alone, he couldn't help but be drawn to him; he reminded him so much of Aegon.

Damn It, Oberyn cursed his rotten luck.

It didn't take long, and the door opened, revealing his paramour Ellaria smiled sweetly at him before her eyes found the baby in his arms; her eyes widened slightly before a smile erupted on her face.

Obara, Nymeria, and Tyene soon walked inside. They noticed the baby in his arms; Obara looked surprised but held her emotions, while Nymeria and Tyene looked ready to fly from happiness.

"Father, who's... He" Nymeria asked first after checking that it was a boy.

Oberyn swallowed a huge breath; his daughters took a seat in his direction.

"Girls, this is Jon Sand, your brother, from now on. I want you to treat him just as you treat each other and love him," Oberyn stated; this made everyone else in the room, even Obara give him a look that promised death to whoever harmed him.

After Two Months

Ned Stark

The journey north was a long one and took many moons. But when finally the ruins of Moat Cailin came into view, Ned thought he had not seen a more welcome sight. Howland Reed left them there, swearing his silence to Ned about Jaehaerys on one knee, but then they continued their ride to Winterfell.

The ride home, Ned thought.

After leaving Dorne, Ned had arrived on King's Landing to swear to Robert; after pledging his loyalty, Ned had announced in front of Robert that he had a bastard daughter, much to Robert's amusement.

He had immediately asked where she was, but Ned had just answered that she was with her mother, he then was asked by Jon Arryn why he was in Dorne, and Ned had stated that he wanted to give his consolation to House Martell, much to Robert's disapproval.

But the next thing Ned asked shocked everyone; he had asked for his daughter to bear the Stark Name. Robert, of course, approved without giving a second thought.

Ned had sent a letter to Starfall after leaving King's Landing. He hoped that would make up a little for his absence, for not being a part of his daughter's life.

There had been snow north of the Barrowlands in recent days, but the King's Road was still passable with care. The air was cold and crisp and stung in his lungs, and all around him was the blessed North – grey-green sentinels, snow-covered moorlands, and straight, tall pines.

The sky was blue and clear, and the sun sparkled down on the ice. For the shortest of times, Ned felt joyous. But then he remembered what lay ahead of him. On the long journey from the capital, he had resolved himself to tell Catelyn nothing about Jaehaerys. He had thought of confiding in her, but the more he considered it, the more he realised there was no option but deception, even though the idea made him sick to the core.

He could not ask her to become complicit in his treason – that would be hugely unfair – and how could he guarantee her silence? He may have taken her to wife, but in reality, they were little more than strangers – he did not know how she would react to such news or even if she would be prepared to join him in the plan at all. And if she ever had to choose between Jae and a child of her own body, he could hardly blame her if she would find that choice easy. The risk, in short, was far too significant. And so he resolved himself to living his lies.

Poor Catelyn, he thought. When she took my hand in the sept at Riverrun, she must have thought she was marrying an honourable man.

The drawbridge was raised, and the gates closed, but as Ned approached, the grey cloaks standing on guard recognised his destrier, and the call was sounded to open up for Lord Eddard. He heard the cracking of ice on the chains as the drawbridge came down and then the dull thump as it connected with the ground.

Inside the castle, the courtyard was quiet. The whole household was waiting for him, and his wife stood in the front, holding a bundle in her arms.

He approached her and kissed her on the forehead.

"Welcome back, my lord, this is your son Robb Stark," Catelyn said proudly. Ned turned to look at his son, he had the auburn hair and eyes of house Tully, but he had his cheekbone and nose and the build of a Stark.

Ned smiled and kissed him on the forehead before turning to look at Catelyn. "He's very beautiful," he said. He turned to greet his ... brother.

It was Benjen who came to greet him from across the courtyard. "Ned," he cried. "Welcome home!"

"Brother, it is good to see you." He enveloped Benjen in a firm embrace. A year had passed since Ned had last seen his little brother, but the changes in him were clear to see. Benjen was several inches taller, his face was thinner, his nose and cheekbones sharper and less childish looking, and there was the vaguest hint of a whispery beard on his chin. He looked almost a man grown already. "You are looking well," Ned observed.

"And you look tired," said Benjen with a wry smile. "Was the journey harsh on you?"

Ned sighed. "This whole year has been harsh on me. Come," he said, "there is much and more to tell you."

They found themselves in the lord's solar. Ned did not sit in the chair, feeling awkward in a room he knew was his now, but still echoed with his father's ghost. Instead, he went to the window and looked out. Through it, he could see the Godswood and the enormous white branches and blood-red leaves of the heart tree reaching skywards; he would go there afterwards and offer up a prayer. He listened to his brother pulling out a seat behind him, and after a moment, turned back to Ben.

"When?" he said, finally. Ned thought back. He had seen three full moons since that fateful day before the Red Mountains of Dorne.

"Three moons ago. She died in my arms when I found her – it was a fever that took her." He did not elaborate further and prayed Ben would not ask questions of him.

"Gods..." murmured Benjen. He blinked rapidly, as if trying to hold back tears, and then pushed his fists into his eyes hard. Ned said nothing, letting Ben compose himself. Although he had been close to Lya, it was Benjen who had spent the most time with her of all of them. "Was there nothing you could have done?" Shaking his head, Ned replied,

"She was too far gone. There was nothing anyone could have done."

Silence stretched out. Ned did not choose to break it, though, believing his brother needed the time to come to terms with the news he had just heard. When eventually Ben opened his eyes, he swallowed hard and said, "I want to take the Black."

"What?" Ned couldn't keep the surprise from his voice.

"You heard, brother."

"I did," admitted Ned, "but I don't understand. You are barely five and ten. Why would you wish to do such a thing?"

"I have my reasons," Benjen explained with no clarity whatsoever. "And besides, it is not such a strange thing for a Stark to join the Night's Watch." Ned stared at his brother in amazement. It was true that throughout the years, there had been many Stark men who had joined the Watch and risen through the ranks to become Lord Commanders or First Rangers, but Benjen was so young. Does he even know what he is doing? What he is giving up?

"I know that," said Ned, "but there is always a place for you at Winterfell or a keep you would be entitled to as my brother."

Benjen shrugged. "Yes..." he said in a faraway voice. "But the Night's Watch is an honourable post." Sighing, Ned wondered what his brother was trying to say. Does he think that he is not wanted, now that I am married and have an heir? He swallowed and put on his firmest tone, his lord's voice, as he thought it.

"Brother, follow me to the crypts. I need to tell you something,"

Chapter 7 (A Wolf in Sand)

Oberyn Martell

His legs were moving towards the training yard; he fought the urge to kick himself; five years ago, he definitely hadn't signed up for this when he accepted to be the prince's father. To say Jaehaerys didn't like to stay in one place would be like saying that Dorne is a frozen hell.

Jon never stood in one place; the child had started walking when he was only 11 months old and from that point on, taking care of him had become twice harder; even before learning how to walk, Jae liked to crawl around like a worm and not stay put.

Once Oberyn had locked the door, Doran had requested his presence in his solar to discuss something important; according to him, Viserys and Daenerys had been seen around Volantis. Oberyn had agreed to send a small team to find them, but unfortunately, the team had found nothing.

After returning from his meeting, Oberyn had found the door unlocked and Jae not there anymore; Arthur, Gerold, along Oswell had searched almost every corner of the castle only to find him with Tyene and Obara.

Obara was doing tricks with her spear as Jae watched her with a big smile on his face. Oberyn had yelled at all three of them for getting them worried.

"It was my idea, father; if you want to punish them, punish me."

Jon had said, immediately standing up in front of his sisters, but Obara had immediately put her hand on his mouth and said she wanted to show him her new tricks since Jon liked it.

Oberyn, of course, didn't punish any of them, but the incident made him happy in a way; the way they stood up for each other was amazing.

Of course, that wasn't the only incident; one time, Jae had almost grabbed a real spear but was stopped by Arthur, who had tried very hard to not yell at him.

The second time, he and Nym had almost escaped the castle to see the streets of Dorne; at the time was the festival, and roads were much busier than usual, and so did the brothels, Oberyn had been in a brothel with Ellaria, Nym and Jon had to wear some old clothes and even hoodies to pass through the guards, thankfully Ser Gerold had been following them all the time and didn't allow them to go outside much to their protest.

The third time was during the sixth name day of Quentyn.

'Oberyn was sitting close to his brother; it had been four years since Jon joined their family. He saw the prince whispering something to Ari and Nym; both girls laughed loudly at whatever he said.

Quentyn was smiling since it was his name day, but Oberyn couldn't help but feel that something would happen.

Soon the cake for Quentyn was brought but much to their horror, half of the cake was gone.

Quentyn looked furious while Oberyn noticed that His daughters, along with Jon and Ari, were chuckling at each other, Obara pointing the finger at Quentyn's red face.

Later that day, after not "finding" who did the crime. Oberyn gathered his children in his chamber.

Walking inside the bedchamber, Oberyn saw them sitting in their respective chairs, looking at him confused.

"What is it, father?" Tyene asked innocently.

Of course, it was them and Ari who had sneaked inside during the night to eat.

Oberyn only told them not to do it again, earning nods from all of them and a rolling eye in return from the viper.

Right now, Oberyn was walking towards the Training yard, reaching the place; he stood at the top of the stairs looking down below; Obara was spinning her spear around while Tyene, Nymeria and Jon were watching her. What he saw brought a smile on his face; he saw Arthur standing nearby, close enough to prevent anything and far enough not to be noticed by his children.

Oberyn had a very long talk with Arthur a month after they arrived; at first, Oberyn had tried to avoid the oathbreaker, but the anger had built more and more, each passing day, more rage. Just looking at Arthur reminded him that he had failed Elia and her children.

Oberyn, of course, knew that Elia hadn't been alone; Rhaegar had left Jaime 'The Kingslayer' behind to protect her. And not mentioning he had Barriston Selmy along with his uncle to protect Elia.

The viper still remembered the day very well, but that day had brought new questions in his head and almost no answers.

'Oberyn saw from afar Arthur watching over Jon who was in Obara's arms, she was carrying him around the castle, and Jon was giggling and smiling at her, Tyene and Nymeria were close, sometimes touching his face, making Jon grab their fingers and trying to put them in his mouth.

Oberyn smiled without noticing, but then his eyes found Arthur again, and the way he was looking after Jon made his blood boil, his heart beating in his throat. His face turned into a frown, and the smile disappeared.

Taking a deep breath, he walked and soon catched up to them.

"Girls, how about you go inside? Perhaps Jon is tired," Oberyn suggested with a slightly forced a smile, something that his daughters noticed immediately. Obara wanted to ask what the problem was but knew that he would tell them if it concerned them.

Walking away, Arthur didn't try to follow them; instead, he turned to look at Oberyn.

"We Talk?"

"We Talk"

Oberyn found a place to talk; it was hidden in the basement; he had found it with Elia when they were once playing Hide and Seek.

"I want to know why Rhaegar didn't send Elia and her children to Dorne?" Oberyn asked first, barely containing his rage; his hand rested on a hidden knife around his thighs.

But what Oberyn heard shocked him. "He did try, no matter what you might think or believe Oberyn, Rhaegar loved Elia and their children, but The King find out about it and forced them to stay in King's Landing", Arthur stated with a look, showing no lies and no fear, his eyes didn't budge, not even in the slightest.

Oberyn wanted to believe that he was lying, but he knew Rhaegar wasn't an emotionless monster who would get his children killed.

"How did the mad king figure it out?" Oberyn asked in return; he already thought of someone in his mind. But couldn't find a motive.

"I don't know, but Prince Rhaegar believed that it was Varys", Arthur replied with a hint of anger in his tone. Oberyn chewed his lower lip, and it was no one else that could have told him; he was the maester of Whisperers.'

After that day, Oberyn and Arthur had mostly kept a neutral friendship, neither at each other's throats but how they used to be when they were young before Arthur became a King's Guard.

Oberyn walked downstairs, and he saw Jae was talking something with Nymeria and pointing the finger at Obara; the viper couldn't hear them but figured it had something to do with her moves.

Walking closer, he heard. "Nym, can I at least hold it, not move it just ..."

"No Jon, we talked, no live steel until you reach ... 10 name days", Nymeria interjected before he could finish causing Jae to pout.

"Fine, but what about Training steel?" Jaehaerys asked with hope in his eyes, looking at Nym.

"As for that, you should ask Father," Tyene replied, grabbing his cheek much to his annoyance; he immediately put his hands on his cheek to protect his face.

"Stop it, Tye, you know I don't like it," Jae said but smiling at his sister.

Oberyn smiled and caught from behind them, causing them to turn around and look at him.

"Father, can I use Training Swords?" Jon asked before anyone else could utter a word. A chuckle escaped Oberyn's mouth and rubbed his dark crow hair.

"A training Sword, but you're only five name days old," Oberyn said, smiling warmly at him. While it was true that Jon was still very young to start practising, Oberyn knew sooner or later he would become King, and he will need to be a good warrior.

"I want to start now; Obara started when she was six name days", Jon replied, getting a playful punch from Obara.

"Very well, I will ask if anyone here is willing to train you in swords", Oberyn replied, knowing full well that Arthur would jump at the chance to train Jae. Still, Jon didn't realise that the three people that followed him sometimes were his king's guards; of course, Ellaria asked who they were, recognising Arthur despite his dyed blue hair, while Oswell had dyed to crow dark hair. Ser Gerold didn't use anything but let his beard grow to his neck level.

Oberyn had told her the truth about Jaehaerys. To his surprise, Ellaria didn't look surprised to hear that Jon wasn't his son; she had replied that his purple eyes were just like of Rhaenys and not mentioning his dark hair and his face structure had nothing in common with his.

Ellaria still treated Jon like her own son, and nothing had changed between them.

"Why don't you use A Spear? I'm sure father would train you?" Nym asked Jon, who looked in deep thought.

After a few seconds, he seemed to come out of his thoughts. "I don't like it much, and it just doesn't feel right in my hands", Jon replied, while Oberyn was thinking when his son had used a spear to know that he doesn't like how it feels in his hands, deciding to ask that question later.

"Now, everyone in the hall, dinner will be served soon," Oberyn said, and they followed behind; from the corner of his eyes, he could see Jon had his head slightly downwards, he wondered what was on the mind of the young prince.

Soon they reached the hall; Oberyn sat close to Doran, while his children sat close with Arianne and Quentyn, well, mostly Ari since Quentyn looked to be in a world of his own.

Jon Sand

In front of him a Dornish meal of purple olives, with flatbread, cheese, and chickpea pastewas, fresh bread, Gull's eggs diced with bits of ham and fiery peppers, sausage covered with red dirt that made it spicy, a chicken filled with onions and lemons, green leaves from Essos, and boiled eggs surrounded by red pepper around the plate.

Jon took a sausage, the scent of meat and different flavours had filled the hall, he started cutting it with a knife, and using a fork to eat, and helping it down with sweet milk, that was mixed with honey and a bit of something to make it a bit spicy.

His eyes found his father talking with someone with blue hair; Jon had noticed the man a few times whenever he was outside the castle; whenever he was outside, he had noticed that he or the other two men would be close.

Jon assumed that they were protecting them since Ari would always have a guard or two close, but these 'Guards' didn't stay that close, and he sure couldn't remember the last time any of his sisters had talked with them.

That made him question what they were protecting?

Jon softly nudged Ari, who was drinking a cup of water. Her eyes turned to Jon with a smile across her face.

"Ari, do you know who's the guy talking with father?" Jon asked most of the time, and it was easier to learn information from Ari than from Quentyn, who didn't talk with him much, if ever.

Ari shrugged her shoulders, not knowing, and she had seen and started noticing the man inside the castle for two years now.

"Who knows Jon, he talks with father sometimes, but you know how he is with his plans", Ari replied with a wave of slight anger in her tone and a stern look on her face, something that Jon noticed.

"Ari, I want a favour from you," Jon asked, planning something. This caused Ari to giggle slightly and lean her head closer to him.

"What are you planning, you little devil?" Ari asked playfully.

Jon rolled his eyes at the nickname and leaned his head closer to her ear.

"I want to see who these men protect. Can you and me tomorrow walk outside and split up to see who they will follow," Jon said; this caused a cunning smile to spread on her face.

"Invite Nym as well", Ari suggested, and Jon nodded his head in agreement. Soon he told the plan to Nym, who thought that would be fun.

Jon, of course, was sure that the guard, if he were one, would follow Ari since she was a princess and the heir of Dorne.

Tomorrow

The following day, the sun shone high in the sky; the day was as bright as ever. Jon was walking around the country yard, followed closely by Ari and Nym. Jon noticed the man with blue hair was following.

Ari had asked her guards to stand back today. Jon turned to look at Ari and gave her a look, Ari smiled, and they stopped walking.

"I need to go inside, see you later, Jon and Nym," Ari said and kissed Jon's cheek, much to his annoyance, who immediately rubbed his cheek and gave her a warning look, Ari in return, just chuckled slightly as she walked away.

Jon couldn't understand why his sisters, mother, and Ari liked to kiss his cheek, which wasn't enjoyable.

Seeing her walk away, Jon walked away with Nym. As they were walking, Jon, much to his surprise, noticed the man wasn't following Ari but instead was in the same place.

After a few minutes, Jon and Nym had walked to the backside of the castle, where mostly the servants and workers lived; Jon noticed the man was hiding in a shop talking to the shopper, acting as if he was buying something.

Jon nudged Nym, "Nym, let's split up, you go inside the castle, and I will head towards the gate", Jon suggested; Nym's eyes roamed around them, not seeing anyone suspicious around.

She grabbed a small knife hidden in her clothes and gave it to Jon. Who's eye widened slightly; Jon knew about the numerous hidden blades his sister held, especially his father, who once had shown them how to hide knives around your clothes.

Jon took the knife and hid it in a pocket around his thighs; the cloth made it look like there was no pocket around there.

Splitting away, Jon walked close to the wall and saw the guards standing in front of the gate. Jon walked across the wall until he saw that the man was behind a pillar.

Jon stopped walking and turned his head towards the man. He was deciding to be brave and face whoever was in front head-on.

"Come out. I know you're there," Jon shouted at the blue-haired man. Jon saw the man walking towards him; his hand instinctively moved towards his hidden knife, his eyes looking at his feet, he saw no weak point from the way his foot moved, if anything Jon could see from his moving that the man in front of him was a warrior with hardly any weakness to exploit.

His eyes found his dark violet eyes; Jon breathed heavily at the colour of his eyes; he knew his purple eyes weren't exactly common.

"Who are you?" Jon asked; looking up at him, he noticed his hands were away from the handle of his swords, from that Jon was sure this one wasn't here to hurt him or even intimidate him; he wasn't spreading his arms around to look more significant to him, and his eyes looked... sad.

"I'm sorry if I frighten you; my name is Art; your father hired me to protect you", Art stated with a warm smile.

Jon raised an eyebrow, tilting his head at the side. "Oh," Jon said and feeling dumb to think that the man had any other thing going.

"Why didn't you follow my sister, but only me?" Jon asked, thinking there was more to it. He saw Art chuckle and murmured something under his breath before turning to look at Jon again.

"Because she went inside the castle while you're the only one outside", Art replied with a tone that indicated that he was telling the truth. Jon couldn't help but feel as if he wasn't telling him everything.

"I see you use swords. Can you train me in sword fighting?" Jon asked, smiling. Art returned the smile and even looked proud; Jon had seen that look in his father's eyes whenever one of them did something that he liked very much, like Obara getting better at her spear, Tyene answering questions correctly about various things. Jon asked for advice on how to fight.

Unknown to them, Obara, Nym and Tyene were hiding just in case their brother needed help.

Arthur Dayne - After 3 Months

Coming to Sunspear wasn't something he had thought that he would do for a long time; the last time he saw Oberyn, they didn't go their separate ways on good terms; therefore, Arthur had been sure that would take a long time until he saw Sunspear again, but now it had been over five years since he was living here.

Gerold had suggested going to Essos and starting a sellsword company to gather man when the time comes to prepare for the Iron Throne.

Gerold had decided to leave after a few months, and he stated that while there, they might contact Darry and perhaps find Viserys and Daenerys.

Whenever Princess Daenerys was mentioned, Oswell would ask if she should be the queen of King Jaehaerys, but Gerold had dropped the conversation every time it came up; Arthur didn't make his thoughts public, but he thought that Prince Jaehaerys could perhaps Marry Margaery Tyrell to ensure the Reach.

Eddard Stark had already given his word that The North would stand with the True King, despite his broken promise to his sister; Arthur knew Ned would keep his word, but that didn't include House Tully, and Arthur wasn't sure if he wanted their support to begin with.

House Tully had betrayed House Targaryen for no reason; the North, despite breaking their oath, at least they thought that Lyanna Stark was kidnapped, and The King burning Rickard Stark and strangling Brandon Stark didn't help.

That left only House Tyrell and the houses of DragonStone; House Lannister would never support them; Tywin Lannister was already neck-deep in blood dept with House Targaryen.

Arthur's mind went to his old brother, Barristan Selmy, and he wondered why he had to bend the knee to the Stag; Barristan always said that Rhaegar would become the greatest king they ever had, even better than Jaehaerys The First. Perhaps the death of Rhaegar crushed him, Arthur didn't know, but he had sworn to one day understand why.

A clash of swords made him escape his thoughts. He looked at Prince Jaehaerys swinging his sword against Ser Oswell, who dodged, despite being only three months since they started.

The prince was good at sword fighting; his stance and speed were beyond impressive; he knew when to dodge, move and swing.

He saw as the prince took a step forward, swinging at his right leg, causing it to hit a rock behind him, making him lose his footing for a second; the prince moved as fast as an arrow and hit him in the chest.

"I got you", The Prince stated with a smile; Ser Oswell laughed.

"Just like Rhaegar", Arthur wanted to say but held his tongue; in many ways, the prince reminded him of Rhaegar.

"You indeed did good, Jon, but next time block more", Oswell advised; Arthur saw Oberyn walk over to them and engulf The Prince in a hug. He saw him murmur something in the prince's ear: Saying that the prince's face lightened up like a candle.

"Thank you, Father", The Prince shouted and ran inside.

"What's that?" Ser Oswell asked, immediately wondering what it was that made the prince so happy.

Oberyn just grinned like an idiot. "You'll see", he only replied. Arthur wanted to ask again what it was, but he saw the prince followed by his ... Oberyn's daughter wearing different clothes.

Arthur followed behind, and they reached where the horses slept; in front of the stall was a new pony; the pony had red fur with white fur around his neck and stomach, his tail was half-red and half-white.

The prince walked in front of them, his legs dancing and sometimes walking faster towards the new horse.

"Slow Down, Jon, no need to rush," Oberyn said, but he could have talked to a wall instead. The prince took a sprint, followed by Oberyn's daughters.

Arthur followed closely behind and saw Oberyn pinching the bridge of his nose, smiling proudly at them.

Arthur was close, and he saw the prince softly touching the pony, who, to his surprise, lowered his body slightly, almost wanting Jon to mount her.

Apparently, The Prince thought the same thing because the next thing Arthur knew, His prince immediately put his leg in the stirrup, moved his body and mounted the pony.

The prince screamed in joy as he held the reins and started riding away, almost like he had ridden all his life.

Oberyn and the others soon followed behind, Arthur cursed his luck for letting him ride away, but no one noticed that Tyene, Nym and Obara weren't worried in the slightest.

Arthur followed behind only to see The prince still riding his horse; seeing him now made his breath stuck in his throat. At that moment, he didn't see His prince but Lyanna Stark.

Jon Sand

'She pleaded with the  King to allow her and her children to leave the Red Keep and return to  Dorne where she would be safe, but he was too far gone in his madness that he struck her, shouting that she would remain here and that they would share the same fate. She knew she and her children were now hostages, secured within the Red Keep to assure that Doran would fight for the royalists and not join the rebel cause.

She wished she had someone here. There was Ser Jaime, but his time was often spent next to  Aerys, also a hostage against his father. She liked Ser Jaime, he had very little of his father's ruthlessness. He was essentially a boy still and wanted to do what was right.

Rhaenys adored him,  and in turn, he smiled when she approached him, but even the constant company of Ser Jaime would not be enough.

She wanted her friend here. Ashara was safe at Starfall but the selfish part of her wished her friend would put herself in danger and return here so she would not feel so alone. She didn't truly wish it, she wanted her friend safe, but she longed to laugh and joke with her. But She knew she would not come.

Most of all she prayed for the day that Oberyn would knock on her door and take her and the children back to Sunspear. She missed her brother more than anyone and would do anything to see his face right now. But despite all her praying, he never came and any letter he wrote she suspected was destroyed before it reached her.

Instead, she spent most of her time curled up sobbing on her bed, Aegon in her arms and  Rhaenys clutching her side. Her darling girl had taken the loss of her father badly, crying for him for hours. Balerion the cat could not even cheer her daughter up and so She sat and prayed that her children would not suffer any more heartache, that they would be safe, but knowing how close Robert Baratheon was, she suspected they would soon be in danger,  and the thought turned her stomach.

Please, she prayed. If I die, so be it. But let my children remain safe.

The city fell in hours, and She heard the screaming from outside. Fires rose from houses and it made her sick to imagine what the men, women and children were going through down there.

She remained in her room the entire time, confident that the Red Keep would hold for a while longer. Both her babes had been crying since the screams from outside had started, and she did not know how to soothe them. She simply closed the window and told them a story, trying to calm them down.

"Mama, why you cry?  Bad men come for us?" Her daughter was so innocent that she couldn't bear to tell her the truth. She was so young, she did not deserve to hear what may happen.

Why?

"Of course not, my love. Ser Jaime will protect you, remember how much he loves you."  Rhaenys smiled at that, and She continued, wanting to see the precious smile as much as she could. "And do you really think Uncle Oberyn would  ever allow anyone to hurt us?" Rhaenys shook her head, and She held her tightly and she remained with her daughter in her arms for hours.

Eventually, She knew that the Lannisters had made it to the Red Keep. The guards would put up a fight, but against the might of the Westerlands, she knew it was over, there was no hope. Her hope that even Ser Jaime would help them was now over, it was his father who had sacked the city and she doubted he would turn against him.

No

Then she heard it.  The unmistakable sound of soldiers approaching her door. She grabbed a  knife from the side, standing protectively in front of them, hoping that at least some of the things Oberyn had taught her would be useful now.  She would fight anyone to protect the two people behind her, and she would fight until she was dead.

No, No

Rhaenys escaped her mother's grasp and left the room. She was sure she would find her father in his solar.

"Our" a voice echoed.

No, No, Nooo

When the men burst through the door, She's knife was promptly hit to the ground by the tallest man she had ever seen.

Nonononono

She felt her vision blur, her mouth opened and screamed, her baby boy grabbed by...

"Noooooooooooooo" his scream echoed through his bedchamber and beyond, his eyes immediately searching around the darkness of his room as cold tears roamed down his cheek, his breath on his throat, his heart beating like a hammer.

He felt the darkness surrounding him like a cold blanket, he hugged his legs tightly, praying for his father, his sisters, Anyone.

He closed his eyes tightly as the door was slammed open, another scream escaped his throat seeing the bad man had come for him.

He started kicking the air everywhere around him, his hands covering his face.

"Please no, Please No" Jon pleaded over and over again. No, I don't want to leave my sisters, he thought.

"Jon, Jon is me, is me, your father" a pair of hands made him look up and see his father looking at him concerned.

Jon for a second didn't believe his eyes before hugging him and crying as his hands didn't want his father to leave him.

Oberyn said nothing and just stroked his dark hair hoping to calm him down.

"It was a dream, it was a  dream" Oberyn repeated in his ear, Jon kept crying on his shoulder,  soon his muscles relaxed, the door opened again, revealing Ellaria behind her with his daughters.

"Jon, what's wrong?" Nym asked immediately moving close to him.

"It was just a bad dream" Oberyn responded instead of Jon who still looked slightly scared of the nightmare.

Soon Jon relaxed and was lying on his bed, his eyes would look on Oberyn and Nym to see if they were still here.

The  Dornish prince put his hand on his shoulder. "You're safe, it was only a  nightmare" he whispered warmly, Jon said nothing but just nodded his head.

"What did you see?" Tyene asked earning a glare from Obara and Ellaria.

The answer was stuck in his throat, he wanted to say it but he didn't want to remember it. His mouth opened slightly but no words were coming out,  his eyes puffy and red, he closed his mouth again.

Jon didn't want to upset his father, he knew from the stories from the guards and what Obara told him about who was Rhaenys, Jon could still see her dark hair and the silver head of Aegon, his hair visible before his eyes.

The  mention of Elia was still a bitter discussion in Dorne, a year ago, Jon  had heard soldiers, servants and workers sometimes discussing Aunt  Elia, many times asking each other in hushed voices 'When will Prince  Doran kill the Stag?' 'Will Prince Oberyn poison The Lions?'.

Jon had asked Obara and Ari the following day about it, they both explained what had happened in King's Landing.

"I  saw ... a monster man, he ... was the tallest man ever, he did something to a baby and a woman" Jon responded, without mentioning names, he didn't want his father to get sad.

Oberyn listened to him and couldn't help but think of Ser Gregor Clegane, a  big man who harmed a woman and a baby. Oberyn knew that both Ser Armor and The Mountain had been the ones ordered to kill his sister and her children.

He stood up and avoided everyone's eyes as a flash of rage fell on him like a rock, his hands clenched tightly as he calmed himself down.  Turning to Jon, he put his hand on his forehead.

"It was nothing Jon, don't worry," Oberyn said warmly and kissed his forehead.

"I  will sleep with you" Nym stated suddenly as she was lying on the bed close to Jon. Oberyn smiled warmly at them before leaving the bedchamber.

Jon saw his father leave and thought if he was angry with him, he knew his father didn't like to mention anything about Aunt Elia or her children.

Soon the young prince fell asleep, Nym whispered that she would protect him from the big bad man. Jon smiled and his dreams took him somewhere he had never been before.

' "There"s birdsong;  not the sound of yellow birds cawing, like Jon often hears when the birds come to and from the castle with their scrolls. These sounds are more like the birds he hears in the morning, chirping in the trees and fluttering past the castle windows. He spots a bright green one on a low hanging branch of the strange tree. It whistles gently in its pretty little song and takes to the sky, soaring up, and over the house.

Jon can hardly make to follow it, what with the house and the tall walls being in the way,  but he still tries. He climbs up the steps towards the red door and reaches up to grasp its dark, wooden handle. When his fingers are mere inches from it, a loud, muffled shriek of rage comes from somewhere inside the house.

"You've done it- you've done it. You've woken it, sweet sister. Do you know what that means? Do you?"

It's a boy's voice,  an older boy. Jon freezes, instantly reminded of the cook's irate voice when he and Obara steal little cakes from the kitchens. Somehow, this boy sounds far angrier.

"Where are you? Where are you?" the voice howls, high pitched with fury. "You have woken the dragon, sister!"

He's looking for his sister. Jon has sisters too, Tyene, Nym and Obara. He can't imagine shouting at them like that. He doesn't believe he could ever be so angry at any of them, or at anyone, the way the older boy on the other side of the door is with his sister.

The next time the voice speaks up, it sounds quieter. The owner of the voice hasn't calmed down, but he is somewhere further away. Jon wonders if it might be safe to go inside the house. Maybe he should help look for the other boy's sister; after all, he wouldn't like it very much if Nymeria went missing, Tye or Obara.

On the other hand, he doesn't want to meet the angry boy inside the house; he doesn't sound very nice at all. But he isn't as close as he was before, and maybe, if  Jon is as quiet as he and Obara have to be when they sneak into the kitchens, he won't get caught.

In the end, curiosity wins over, and Jon reaches out for the door handle again.

"No!" a small voice calls out from behind him.

Jon turns around with a little jump. From behind the tree, stepping out beside the edge of the pond comes a pale girl in a lilac dress, watching him in alarm. She says something else in words Jon doesn't understand, and when he squints in confusion, she continues with words he recognises.

"You can't open the door," the girl says, folding her arms. "You mustn't."

She is young, even smaller than Jon, though not by much. Jon would likely reply if he could, only he never really talks to other children and he is rather distracted by... her.

It just about reaches her shoulders in smooth, silvery gold locks, so light that it almost seems white. Jon has seen white hair before on the heads of the elderly,  but this is something else entirely. The girl is far from old and the way the sunlight gleams off it when she steps out from the shadow of the tree shines in away Jon has never seen before.

"The door has to stay closed," the girl says. Her voice wobbles when she speaks like she's uncertain of her own words.

"Why?" Jon finally manages to say.

The girl peers behind him at the red door then takes a tentative step forwards. She begins speaking in another tongue again before words Jon knows to slip out in the same breath. "I close it at night," she says, but although Jon understands what she is saying now, he is still puzzled. It's not night,  not even close- even if he is wearing his bedchamber clothes.

When the girl reaches the steps, she climbs up rather slowly, almost as if she's hesitant to come any closer to him. Jon is confused until he wonders if maybe she's afraid of the door, not him. Or rather, what's behind the door.

It doesn't occur to him that she is the little sister the boy inside the house is looking for. He is too young to put it together properly, and he is still rather mesmerised by her hair.

She, too, seems to be a little too young to ask an obvious question, such as why and how Jon is in her garden. She merely stares at him when she reaches the top of the steps, and he stares right back.

"It's bad inside," she says, "so the door is closed."

"Oh," Jon says, not really understanding at all.

"Do you want to play?" '

Alyanna Stark

'  Her legs took as far as she could reach, the frozen land below her pawn felt as cold as the coldest night of Dorne. Colder, but she didn't feel any of it. The snow was deep beneath her, but that didn't bother her to walk forward, her nose-picking on the scent around her. She felt fearless. She felt Free.

It was a deer, it had to be, her tongue licked her mouth at the fresh meat waiting for her ahead of the trees, her eyes searching far and beyond,  her body lowered and her feet moving slower as her silver eyes found the small deer eating fresh grass, the scent of the frozen sea was around the air.

Sometimes the weird people with strange animal clothes would come to catch fish with long spears, bows and arrows. It was the warmest part of the land,  the fish and animals of the land mostly stayed near the coast. The fresh grass and plant mostly grew here.

Aly felt the snow touching her lower body, as her eyes found the deer eating grass, the small deer was staying close by.

She moved closer, her white fur covered her, as she stood slightly covered behind a tree, she took a deep breath before her body moved as fast as an arrow, the prey started running, She soon reached as he was slower than her mother, her sharp teeth deep in his throat as the blood-covered her mouth, her fangs holding it down, as his legs moved around in instinct still trying to run away.

Her teeth bite deep in the throat as the deer left out his final breath.

Her teeth opened up the prey, the fresh and warm meat in her mouth testing better than everything else before. '

Aly's eyes opened in the middle of the night, the smell of meat and blood still fresh in her mouth, moving her tongue around, she felt like still had blood in her mouth.

Her hand moved to her mouth but saw no blood, her eyes saw the darkness around her room showered by the light of the full moon, a large window letting the light of the moon in, the window led to the balcony of her bedchamber.

"Where  are you, White Snow?" Aly asked quietly, she would want to meet her wolf she had known her wolf for a long time, she couldn't remember the first time she met him, she closed her eyes again, hoping to see her friend again, even if she wasn't real, the thought of running around as freely as White Snow always brought a smile to her face.

Closing her eyes she prayed to the old gods to see White Snow again.

Tomorrow

The morning came, Aly opened her eyes, her hands in front of her covering her eyes from the burst of light in front of her room, the sun always smiled for her in the morning and during the night, the moon told her stories of Wolves and People far away from here.

Her violet eyes found her clothes hanging in the armchair near a table mirror close to her bed. On the table were different dresses, but her eyes were set only on one dress.

A  sly smile spread on her face, her small hand, held the white dress,  with blue decorations around the arms, around her chest was decorated the symbol of a blue wolf, she smiled wildly.

While wearing it, she heard a knock on the door, turning her head towards the door, as she tried to put her left arm in the dress.

"Come in" Aly called, while putting her other arm, the door opened to reveal her mother wearing a deep purple dress, she smiled brightly seeing her daughter.

"Good morning mom," Aly said smiling brightly, her face long, her violet eyes brighter than her mother's, small nose, long dark hair that reached her middle back.

Her mother would always tell her to keep her hair shorter but she liked long, she liked her hair to dance with the wind.

Around her neck was a necklace that held a wolf head, Aly always loved wolves,  from the first time she had a dream about wolves, from that moment she couldn't wait until she saw one.

"You look beautiful Aly" Her mother complimented her, Aly's heart warmed at her mother's compliment.

"Thank you mother," she said as she followed her mother outside.

Her mother had told her that today they would leave for Sunspear, Prince  Oberyn had invited them for the birthday of his son, Jon Sand.

Aly found the northern name strange for a dornish but didn't mind, she couldn't help but feel nervous at the prospect of meeting Prince Doran  Martell and Prince Oberyn, she felt her heart beating in her throat just the thought of saying something or doing something not good.

She knew her name was 'Stark' a member of House Stark from The North, but it hadn't taken long for Aly to hear numerous whispers behind her back.

Bastard, Northern bastard, A wolf, Aly had asked her mother why people hated the wolves and The North.

Her mother told her about Robert's rebellion, and how The North had supported Robert Baratheon, resulting in the death of Princess Elia  Martell and her children.

Aly had nodded in understanding, she understood why Dorne didn't like her.

Aly still remembered when her mother talked about her father a year ago.

' Aly was playing with her friend, Tanoja, she was the daughter of the commander of the guards in Starfall.

Aly would usually talk about dresses with her, the young Stark always liked to change the subject about different places and animals, asking what type of animals she liked and what places she would like to visit.

Tanoja would always answer that she would like to visit Sunspear and meet  Prince Quentyn, she described him as a handsome prince with dark hair and strong. Aly usually just went along with it, sadly Tanoja didn't like to talk or didn't care to talk about the North or wolves.

"Lady  Alyanna, your mother requests your presence in her chambers" a soldier came in front of them, he held a large spear with his left hand, a huge gash on his right shoulder visible through his thin clothes that didn't cover his chest. His name was Ramo.

"Tomorrow we can play," Aly said and her friend nodded in agreement. Walking away followed closely by her soldier, she couldn't help but feel small, as her feet walked her through the corridor, servants who were doing their jobs would stop working whenever she passed by.

Sometimes they would point fingers behind her back making her scared, of what they wanted.

If Only I could be a wolf, Aly told herself, she was always fearless in her dreams, and she was free and in The North, where the snow fell and the white wind blows, she and her wolf alone to travel everywhere.

She escaped her thoughts as she heard. "Bastard Wolf" she heard the word again, Aly had asked Tanoja what it meant since her mother had changed the subject.

She told her that bastards were when the parents are not married in the eyes of the gods.

Aly had noticed that the last time a servant called her a bastard, the servant had left the castle the following day.

Aly reached her mother's chamber and found her mother resting on the bed.

"Mother" Aly called and her mother stood up and hugged her little body, giving her little face kisses everywhere.

"Stop it mother, you know I don't like it" Aly screamed out, moving her arms around and trying to move away. Her mother laughed pointed a finger to sit near her.

"Mother,  who's my father?" Aly asked first knowing that her father was a Stark but she wasn't living with them, did he not love them, or perhaps he was ashamed that he had a child with a dornish?

Ashara sighed and avoided her daughter's eyes, every time she looked at her daughter, reminded her of Ned, she wondered how he was. Ned still sends her letters every month, telling him how he is, the last letter promising to visit for Aly's fifth name day, Asha of course knew that wouldn't happen.

He was the lord of the whole North, not just Winterfell, he needed to be there, and not mentioning going to Starfall from Winterfell would take months even with a ship.

Looking at her daughter again, she told her everything she could about Ned, how good of a person he is, and that he loved them dearly.

But then Aly asked something that broke her heart. "Does he hate us? Does  he hate me because I'm a bastard?" Aly asked, tears rolling down her cheek, her cheek red, but Ashara hugged her daughter.

"No my sweet, your dada loves you more than anything don't ever think that he doesn't love you" Ashara whispered in her ear.'

From that day Aly wanted to visit the North more than anything else. And to see her father, she wondered if she could meet him when she was a wolf,  would she recognize him. Would he?

"Aly,  today we will leave for Starfall, remember to always call them 'prince'  and don't be disrespectful," Her mother told her with a slightly strict tone.

"Mother, do you think I can make friends there?" Aly asked with hope in her eyes, while she liked Tanoja, but she wanted friends who were similar to her. She loved her family as well except Gerold 'Darkstar' Dayne who always loved to brag about his non-existent deeds.

Her mother smiled warmly and kissed her forehead.

"I'm sure you will make good friends" Her mother responded with confidence.

Aly smiled back and her mind went to White Snow, "Where are you, my friend?".