Riverlands, Riverrun
283 AC
Caitlyn POV
The pain is fire in my bones, licking up my spine, curling through my belly with every wave. My hands clutch the damp sheets, knuckles white, breath coming ragged and shallow. Somewhere beyond the pounding of my heart, I hear the maester's voice, distant yet sharp.
"Lady Stark, I see the head. One more push, my lady."
I bite down on a cry and bear down with what strength remains. My body is no longer my own; it is a storm, and I am carried helpless in its current. The fire swells, peaks and breaks and then the sound comes.
Wahhh!
It is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. My eyes flutter open and there he is and he is small and perfect, slick with birth, a crown of black hair upon his head. A Stark's hair. My heart swells, but before I can take him into my arms, another pain strikes, sharper than the last.
I gasp, my voice breaking. "Another… there's another…"
The maester passes the black-haired boy into the arms of a waiting midwife, then kneels to look between my legs. His eyes widen. "My lady… it seems you bear twins. A few more pushes, and it will be done."
Twins.
My chest is heaving now, and the room swims before my eyes, but I nod. There is no choice. The next wave comes and I push, the pain tearing through me.
"One more time, my lady," the maester urges.
I close my eyes and scream as I give the last of myself to the effort. And then another cry, loud and strong, fills the air.
Wahhh!
I open my eyes to see the maester lift my second son into the light. Auburn hair crowns his head, the very shade of mine, and I feel a rush of fierce love. The babes are placed in my arms, warm and wriggling, and I draw them to my breast as if I might shield them from all the world.
The maester speaks again. "What shall the twins be called, my lady, so I may send word to the boys father?"
I look first to the dark-haired boy, his small face scrunched and red. "Cregan Stark," I say softly. "The heir to the North." Then to his brother, whose auburn locks remind me of my Tully blood. "And the second… Robb Stark."
The maester nods, scratching the names onto a scrap of parchment and tying it to a waiting raven. The bird takes wing into the grey morning sky.
I hold my sons closer, breathing in their warmth, their scent, their life. Outside, the world is at war, and their father is far from here. My lips brush their downy heads as I whisper, "Seven keep him safe… and keep you both from the storm to come."
Riverlands, Trident
283 AC
Eddard POV
War is a cruel mistress, her kiss soaked in blood and grief. I have never loved her. For others like Robert, Jon, this war means the fall of a dynasty, the chance to crown a new king. For me, it is different. It is vengeance for my family, a search for my sister. Nothing else matters.
Steel sings through the air as a loyalist lunges with reckless fury. I meet his blow with Ice, twisting and striking true, his head parting from his body before he hits the ground. Another comes, sword flashing. I block his strike, drive my knee hard between his legs, and follow with a brutal kick that sends him sprawling before my blade finds his throat.
The battlefield is chaos with bodies piled like broken stones, the Trident swollen and red with blood. Amid the carnage, a roar draws my eyes to the heart of the fight: Robert and Rhaegar locked in deadly combat.
Rhaegar's sword strikes down, and Robert falls beneath the blow, staggering. The crown prince moves to finish the blow, but I am there, blocking the deadly arc of steel. Beneath his helm, I catch a flicker of surprise and if I were not so furious, I might have seen something else… sadness.
I kick Rhaegar backward, my voice raw with rage. "Where is she?"
He answers, voice low and steady, "She is somewhere safe… far from you and Robert."
The words ignite something wild inside me. The wolf's blood that has coursed through my veins since birth. I charge, steel singing as we clash. He sweeps for my leg; I step back. He stabs; I parry and slash through his chestplate.
Rhaegar staggers, chest bleeding, but before I can end it, Ser Barristan Selmy steps between us, shield raised.
I shove Barristan aside, blade flashing, but before I can strike again, a roar shakes the field. Robert barrels into Barristan, sending the knight flying. He turns, eyes blazing.
"Ned! Finish him! For Lyanna!"
Robert swings his war hammer at Barristan again, teeth bared.
My mind flickers to the last time I saw Lyanna in Harrenhal, her smile bright, light in her eyes as I told her of my hopes to wed Ashara Dayne. The memory stings, bittersweet.
Rhaegar falls to one knee, clutching his wound. I step forward, blade poised.
"Surrender," I say, voice hard.
His eyes glitter with madness and prophecy. "I cannot. The dragon must have three heads."
I bring Ice down without mercy, piercing through armor and flesh. Rhaegar gasps his last breath, then slips beneath the blood-darkened waters of the Trident.
Timeskip
Eddard POV
I sit alone in my tent, the weight of Ice heavy in my hand as I wipe the blade clean of blood. Each streak of crimson brings with it the faces the men I sent to their graves this day and with each, the fire inside me dulls a little more. War is a cruel thing, and I hate it with every fiber of my being.
A knock at the flap breaks my thoughts. A Vale soldier steps inside, his face grave but respectful. "Lord Stark, Lord Arryn bids you come to the war council. A raven arrived from Riverrun as well."
I nod, taking the letter from him. "Tell Lord Arryn I will be there at once."
The soldier bows and leaves. I break the seal and scan the words. A smile, small but real, curls my lips. Twins Cregan and Robb.
I sheath Ice and sling the scabbard across my back, standing to leave. Passing through the camp, I see wounded men tended by medics, their eyes wary as they catch sight of me. Murmurs ripple through the crowd with them muttering "Dragonslayer…"
I grimace inwardly at the name. Jon told me to accept it, said it would bolster their spirits. Still, it tastes bitter on my tongue.
The war tent stands ahead, heavy with the scent of smoke and strategy. Inside, Jon Arryn, Hoster Tully, and Brynden "Blackfish" Tully are deep in discussion. They glance up as I enter.
"Lord Stark," Jon says, relief in his voice. "Good to see you still standing."
I nod, scanning the room. "Where is Robert?"
The Blackfish shakes his head. "He's badly wounded and resting. He won't march on King's Landing anytime soon."
I consider this. "So what is the plan for King's Landing?"
Hoster Tully's gaze is steady. "You and the Northerners, along with Brynden and the Riverlanders, will take the vanguard. Scouts report Tywin Lannister is moving toward the city, likely allied with the Mad King."
A chill runs down my spine. "You believe Tywin fights for the crown?"
All three men nod grimly. I steel myself. "Then we must leave at once."
Before I turn, I add quietly, "My wife has given birth to twins. Cregan and Robb. Both mother and sons are well."
Hoster's face softens with joy, and even the Blackfish allows a rare smile. Jon Arryn nods his congratulations.
I exit the tent and find the Northern camp alive with the roar of Greatjon Umber, his voice booming over the din. "I slew a man at the Trident today!" he bellows, raising his mug in my direction.
The Northerners join in, their ale lifted high. "Dragonslayer! Dragonslayer!"
I allow myself a brief nod. "Prepare yourselves. We ride for King's Landing."
They answer with a thunderous cheer as I turn toward my tent to make ready.
Timeskip
Crownlands, Kings Landing
283 AC
Eddard POV
The city lay before us, shrouded in smoke and stench, a nightmare made flesh. Greatjon grunted beside me, "This place reeks of rot and death." I said nothing; the foul smell clawed at my throat and turned my stomach.
As we rode closer, the cries of women and children pierced the air, mingling with the clash of steel and the screams of dying men. Lannister soldiers swept through the streets like a plague, tearing families apart.
"Lord Glover, Lady Marge," I called out, voice sharp as a blade, "take your men and stop the soldiers. If they refuse to obey, then kill them." They nodded grimly and rode to meet the invaders.
Turning to the others, I said, "Greatjon, Howland, Rickard, Blackfish, Lord Bolton, you ride with me. We're going to the Red Keep." Their faces were set, and we cut down any Lannister who dared cross our path.
We burst through the gates of the Red Keep, chaos swirling around us like a storm. "Rickard, Lord Bolton, Blackfish, you head to the throne room and capture the Mad King," I ordered. "Greatjon, Howland, William, come with me because we must find Rhaegar's family."
We moved swiftly through twisting halls until screams echoed from a nearby chamber. I kicked open the door and found Rhaenys. Before her stood Amory Lorch blade raised to strike the child.
Without hesitation, I raised Ice and brought it down, severing his head in a single stroke.
At that moment, Greatjon burst through another door to find Elia pale and trembling. The Mountain lunged toward her, but Greatjon tackled the brute with savage strength. I plunged Ice into Amory's neck, silencing him forever.
Elia looked at me with wide, frightened eyes, then Rhaenys ran to Elia and she clutched tightly to her mother as did Elia and seeing their fear staring at Ice so I dropped the sword and held out my hands in peace. "Princess, you and your daughter are under my protection."
She stepped back, tears shining in her eyes. "Why do you protect us?" she asked, her voice trembling. "You killed my husband. He took your sister from you, leading to your father and brother's deaths. Why do you not hate us?"
I was silent, my gaze falling on Aegon on the floor with his head smashed in. A terrible thought flickered through my mind that my own sons, Cregan and Robb, might have been here instead.
"One man's sins must not doom his entire house," I said quietly.
Her eyes widened, tears spilling freely now. "Thank you," she whispered.
Suddenly, a soldier from the hall burst in. "My lord, the Mad King is dead slain by Jaime Lannister."
The news struck me like a hammer blow. I turned to Greatjon and William. "Stay here. Protect them from any who would do harm." They nodded fiercely.
Howland and I raced to the throne room, hearts pounding.
We pushed open the heavy doors and found Jaime Lannister seated upon the Iron Throne, a smirk playing on his lips. On the floor lay the broken body of King Aerys.
I knelt, feeling for a pulse and there was none. Death had claimed the Mad King.
Anger and disbelief surged within me because he took this from me. "Why did you break your oath, Kingslayer?" I demanded quietly.
Jaime's smirk vanished, replaced by a cold glare. I did not wait for his answer. Turning away, I left the room with the others and returned to Elia and her children.
Timeskip
It had been two days since the Trident.
Two days of waiting for Robert.
Two days of wondering whether I could still call him my friend.
I was in Elia's chambers when Howland came, his voice low.
"Robert is in the throne room."
Elia stiffened. I laid a hand on her shoulder.
"Princess, you have nothing to fear. You are under my protection. Robert will not harm you."
I wished I believed the words as much as I wanted her to.
She studied me, then smiled faintly. "I see now why Ashara liked you so much."
Ashara.
Her name cut sharper than any sword. I gave no answer, only a curt nod.
Rhaenys looked up from her kitten. "Bye, Uncle Ned!"
I managed a smile for her. "Stay close to your mother."
At the door, I turned to Greatjon. "No one enters. No one."
He grinned like the warhound he was. "You've naught to worry about, Ned."
But I did. Gods help me, I did.
The throne room reeked of smoke and blood. The Mad King lay shrouded in a crimson-and-gold banner, and above him stood Robert, Jon Arryn… and Tywin Lannister, smug as a cat in the cream. Jaime lingered near the throne itself, his white cloak too clean for the work he had done.
Robert saw me and his face darkened.
"Where's the dragon whore?"
I felt the words strike like a slap. "She is in her chambers, with my men guarding her."
His voice thundered. "Guarding her? Why not kill her?"
"Innocents do not die while I have a say," I said.
Robert stepped closer, heavy with rage. "She bore the dragon's get. They should all die. At least one of them's dead already."
My jaw tightened. "Nothing will happen to them while they are under my protection."
We stood, eyes locked, as if the hall itself had vanished. Somewhere Jon Arryn was speaking, trying to cool the storm, but Robert's anger was an old fire, stoked for years.
He swung at me which was a clumsy, drunken blow. I stepped back and let it pass. "Then we are done here."
I went straight to Elia. "We leave tonight," I told her.
She blinked, startled. "Why?"
"Robert and Tywin want you and Rhaenys dead."
Her lips trembled. "Do you know where she is?"
"In Dorne," she said softly. "In a tower near Starfall."
I gave her the choice. "The North or Dorne?"
She looked to her daughter, then back at me. "Dorne… but Rhaenys should see the North because she would want to see her uncle Ned, if you will have her."
"You will always be welcome."
Her smile then was small, but true. "Thank you, Lord Stark."
Timeskip
We made ready to sail for Sunspear. I left the northern host in the care of Rickard Karstark, with orders to march on Riverrun to bring my lady wife and sons home, and to lift the siege at Storm's End before returning to the North.
With me I took only those I trusted most and they were Howland Reed, Ethan Glover, Ser Mark Ryswell, Theo Wull, Martyn Cassel, and Lord William Dustin.
I was halfway to the gangplank when Jon's voice carried over the din of the dock. "Ned!"
I turned. He was there on the pier, his face lined with care.
"I cannot," I said, shaking my head. "He would see a little girl dead, Jon. You know how stubborn he is. He will not be swayed, and this I cannot forgive."
Jon's eyes searched mine, but there was nothing more to say. I boarded the ship, and the wind filled our sails, carrying us south to Sunspear, and to Lyanna.
Timeskip
Dorne, Sunspear
283 AC
Eddard POV
By the old gods, the Dornish sun was a hammer. It beat upon helm and mail, upon leather and wool, until sweat soaked every stitch. The road to Sunspear was a white ribbon, shimmering in the heat, flanked by windblown dunes and stubborn stands of pale green scrub. The northern horses labored in the warmth, their flanks lathered, their breath hot.
My cloak clung to his back like a damp shroud. Elia Martell rode light beside him, her silk skirts whispering in the dry wind, her dark hair pinned back with golden combs. She laughed once, softly, at the sight of him wiping his brow for the fifth time, though she said nothing.
The city rose from the sand at last with pale stone towers, slender and sharp, crowned in spears of bronze that caught the afternoon sun. Gates yawned wide to admit them, and soon they were riding through narrow, shaded streets into the cool embrace of the Water Gardens.
They found Prince Oberyn and Prince Doran beneath the shade of orange trees. A fountain played nearby, the water sparkling as it leapt and fell. Rhaenys saw Oberyn first and broke into a run, silk slippers barely touching the flagstones. Oberyn went to one knee, caught her in his arms, and held her close. Elia was next, and her brother kissed her cheeks before releasing her with a smile.
Then Oberyn turned to me and I felt Howland shift at his side, and William Dustin's hand brushed the hilt of his sword, but Oberyn only stepped forward and embraced him. The prince's lips brushed Ned's cheek, the Dornish way.
"Thank you, Lord Stark, for my sister. For my niece."
I inclined his head. "We are sorry we could not save Aegon."
Oberyn's smile faltered, though only for a breath. "The fault was not yours. The Lannisters wear that shame."
Prince Doran sat in a carved seat of pale stone, his face calm as still water. "Dorne remembers those who show it kindness. My sister and her child are dear to me. You have my thanks, Lord Stark."
I bowed low. "No thanks is needed. I did what honor required."
Oberyn laughed softly. "Now I see what Ashara saw in you."
I felt the words as a pebble in his boot, small but inescapable but I did not answer. "If you will grant us the night here, my companions and I ride at first light for the Tower of Joy. My sister awaits."
"You shall have your rest," Doran said. "And food, and cool water."
The orange blossoms stirred in the sea breeze, and somewhere in the gardens a child was singing.
Timeskip
Dorne, Tower Of Joy
284 AC
Eddard POV
The tower stood pale and silent against the red Dornish sky, its stones kissed by the dying sun. Wind tugged at his cloak, carrying with it the scent of dust and the faint cry of some far-off hawk.
Lyanna was here. I could feel it and I am as sure as the sword at my hip.
They approached in a slow line, boots crunching in the brittle sand. Howland Reed walked to my right, small and quiet, his eyes never leaving the tower. William Dustin's spurred boots clinked softly on the stones.
The door opened.
Out they came, the three knights in white, their armor bright as fresh snow. Gerold Hightower, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, was broad and cold-eyed. Oswell Whent's black bat helm hid his face entirely. And at the center… Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, with Dawn in his hand and the sun in his eyes.
Arthur set the great pale blade point-first into the ground.
His gaze met my eyes. Those eyes violet, like hers. For her sake, Ned prayed it would not come to this. Gods, I am so tired. I want only to take Lyanna home, to the snows of Winterfell, and never leave them again.
I took a step forward.
"Stop, Lord Stark," Arthur said, voice quiet as falling snow. "No further."
I stopped. "Please. Let me see my sister. You know I would never harm her."
Oswell Whent's voice rasped from behind the bat helm. "We do not know that, as we do not know you. We know only Eddard Stark, the Quiet Wolf… the dragonslayer."
I looked down with my jaw tight. "Why weren't you there to protect him?"
Hightower's answer was a blade in itself. "Our prince commanded us here. Had we been there, you would never have come near him."
The knights donned their helms. Steel sang as swords were drawn. My companions mirrored them Howland with his frog spear, William Dustin with his longblade, Martyn Cassel and Theo Wull grim-faced in the sun.
Arthur slid Dawn from the earth and held it high. "I wish you good fortune in the wars to come. And now it begins."
I pushed the hair from his brow. "No," I said, and drew Ice, the great Valyrian blade black and strong. "Now it ends."
I charged.
Steel met steel in a ringing crash, Ice against Dawn. Arthur was quicker than i remembered from Harrenhal, his feet light, his blade flashing in a dozen angles, every one precise as a maester's quill. I met him blow for blow, turning aside the cuts, answering with hard two-handed strokes that forced Arthur to give ground.
Around them, battle broke. Williams war cry split the dry air as he met Gerold Hightower, steel clashing in a storm of sparks. Howland danced back from Oswell's rush, spear flickering in quick, darting jabs.
Arthur turned my cut aside with a twist of his wrist, riposted low, then high, then spun Dawn in a gleaming arc toward my neck but I ducked, driving Ice forward, forcing Arthur to leap back.
"You've grown stronger," Arthur said between blows.
"I had cause."
They pressed each other hard, sand scuffing underfoot, the clangor of their fight ringing off the tower walls. My arms burned and my breath came harsh, but I gave no ground.
A scream split the air when Theo went down beneath Oswell Whent's blade, his lifeblood staining the pale sand. Martyn shield shattered under Hightower's great sword, and in the next instant the Lord Commander struck him down.
William Dustin and came at Gerold with savage fury, forcing him back step by step. Howland feinted left, darted right, and drove his spearpoint into the gap of Oswell's gorget. Whent staggered, gurgling, and fell.
Arthur's gaze flicked toward the sound, and I struck. Ice crashed against Dawn, the shock of it was jarring my arms to the shoulder. Arthur turned the blow aside and came back with a cut that grazed my ribs, warm blood soaking into my tunic.
Pain flared, sharp as winter wind, but I pushed through it.
Hightower roared and brought his sword down at William but William caught the stroke on his own blade, teeth bared, and with a heave threw the Lord Commander off balance. His riposte took Hightower in the side, deep and sure. The White Bull fell to his knees, then to the ground.
Only Arthur remained.
He and I circled, the world narrowing to the space between their blades. Howland and William stood apart, bloodied but alive, watching.
Arthur came in swift as a striking hawk and I met him, steel ringing, sparks flying. They broke apart, circled again. I feinted high, then cut low, Ice biting into the sand as Arthur danced back.
Another clash, another flurry of blows, neither man giving quarter. The sun dipped lower, painting the sand red-gold. My breath rasped loud in my ears with my arms trembling with the strain.
One last exchange with Ice and Dawn met in a shattering crash, the force of it numbing my hands. I staggered, but so did Arthur. Both of our blades came up again, ready, unwilling to yield.
And in that moment, the wind shifted, carrying to me with a faint, familiar sound from within the tower then a woman's cry.
Lyanna.
I met Arthur's eyes, steel still ringing, sweat stinging my brow. I saw something in those violet depths was resignation, maybe pity.
We circled once more, blades locked in a fierce embrace. His skill was beyond anything I'd faced, a dance of sword and footwork I could barely match.
A cut came down toward my neck so I ducked instinctively, then bent low, fingers scraping the coarse sand.
A bitter thought twisted in my gut. Honor.
I thought of honor. And how it might fail me here.
With a clenched fist, I grabbed handfuls of grit and threw it toward his face. Arthur's eyes flashed in surprise and pain as sand stung his vision.
It was not how I wanted to win. It was not the way of a Stark or a knight. But I was no longer a boy at Harrenhal.
I charged, blade ready, and found the gap beneath his guard. Ice pierced flesh and mail, and Arthur fell, Dawn slipping from his grasp.
His breath came ragged, eyes dimming with shock and something else acceptance, perhaps.
There was a long silence, broken only by the ragged rise and fall of our breaths.
I looked down at the man I had killed, and the weight of the act pressed on me like the coldest winter night.
Then I turned toward the tower. I had come for Lyanna, and nothing else mattered now.
I look at the tower and walks in and runs up the stairs and I burst through and door and I find her in a bed full of blood.
Lyanna opens her eyes and says so weakly "Ned?" I rush forward and grabs Lyanna hand "Lya it's me Ned. I'm here." Lyanna says "This ain't a stupid dream right." I feel tears running down my face and I says "No this ain't a dream it's real." Lyanna then says "I-I never wanted none of this to happen and it's all my fault Brandon Father."
I squeezed her hand and says "It's not your fault Rhaegar took you." But she shakes her head "I left willingly with him to get away from Robert but during that time we fell in love and we got married at a godswood."
I freeze in shock because if this is true I killed my own brother in law. But then Lyanna points at a midwife and the last words he ever hear Lyanna speaks is "Protect her Ned Promise me."
A midwife gives me a baby but she feels cold and he looks at the midwife and she mouths "Stillbirth." Then Lyanna grabs my hand tightly and says "Promise me Ned please."
I didn't want to tell her that she is dead but he just says "I promise." Lyanna smiles and says "You were always the best of us Ned."
Her eyes close for the final time and I just sit for I don't know how long until William and Howland pulls me off and we pack up Lyanna body and then we bury the bodies there and I grab dawn and then I say to Howland and William "We're making a stop at Starfall."
Timeskip
Dorne, Starfall
284 AC
Eddard POV
The gates of Starfall yawned open, and a guard stepped forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Halt. State your business."
I pulled back my cloak and met his gaze evenly. "Eddard Stark, here to see Lady Ashara Dayne."
At my name, his eyes widened, but when I spoke Ashara's name, sorrow darkened his face. Without another word, he stepped aside.
We rode through the winding paths and came upon the castle's entrance, where Lord Forley Dayne awaited us. He was a tall man, his face lined with years and worry. "Lord Stark," he said, bowing his head, "Princess Elia sent word you might come. There is something you should see."
I nodded and followed him inside, the air cool and heavy with the scent of herbs. He led me through silent halls until we reached a nursery, the quiet broken only by the soft cries of a child.
Inside, a small bundle lay in a cradle. Black hair curled against pale skin, and when the baby's eyes met mine, violet depths stared back with eyes like Ashara's.
"Where is Ashara?" I asked quietly.
Lord Dayne's gaze dropped. "She died at his birth. This is Jon Sand her son."
A chill ran through me, but I forced myself steady. This was my son. The weight of that truth pressed on my chest, heavy and real.
"I will take him north," I said, voice low but certain. "You need not worry for him."
Forley Dayne nodded solemnly. "May the gods watch over you, Lord Stark."
As I turned away, a quiet question lingered in my mind, unspoken but ever present: What will I tell Catelyn?
Timeskip
North, Winterfell
284 AC
Benjen POV
I stood in the cold courtyard of Winterfell, the stones still stained with the last of winter's frost. The war was over at last, but the weight of it lingered like a shadow on my heart.
Beside me, Caitlyn cradled the babes with Cregan and Robb both of them small and perfect, their breaths soft against the quiet morning. The gates creaked open, and Ned rode through, his face drawn, his eyes dark beneath the heavy fur of his cloak.
I searched for Lyanna in his gaze, but found only sorrow instead. He dismounted slowly, and when we embraced, I felt the grief he carried, silent and deep.
"I'm sorry," he said, voice rough. "I was too late."
I held him tighter, the years of hardship and loss pressing between us like the cold.
He moved then toward Caitlyn. "My lord husband," she said softly, offering her sons to him. "These are your sons: the heir, Cregan, and Robb, the second."
Ned's hands were gentle as he held them, and for a moment, a faint smile broke through his tired eyes.
Then a midwife stepped down from the wagon, carrying a small bundle wrapped tightly. I moved closer as the baby stirred, eyes wide open and his eyes were violet as the dusk sky and a shock of black hair crowned his head.
Caitlyn's gaze flickered to the child, and her voice was cool when she asked, "Husband, who is this?"
Ned's jaw tightened. "He's my bastard son. Jon Snow."
The light left her eyes. I saw the sharp edge in her glance as she gathered Cregan and Robb close again, her body stiffening beneath the weight of the unspoken. "They are tired," she said quietly. "I will put them to bed."
She turned away without another word, the door closing softly behind her.
Ned watched her go, then lifted Jon into his arms. For a moment, he stood there, the three boys in his care with each one a reminder of the life he'd lost and the future he had to protect.
I fell in step beside him, the cold air biting, but the weight in my chest was heavier still.
Timeskip
North, Winterfell
Eddard POV
I am in my chambers just looking out the window but my door is knocked on and says "Come in." It Caitlyn and she looks nervous and she says "Lord Husband I was wondering if you could tell me who was the mother of your son and why she couldn't be with her." I look down in sadness and I say "She's dead. Died giving birth to her."
Caitlyn says "W-what was her name?" I look at Caitlyn and says "Ashara Dayne. We met at Harrenehall and we got close and I wanted to marry her and I was gonna ask my father for her hand so we both went to the vale but then everything happened with my family and she was my confort and then the mad king called for my head so I had to go north and raise my army and then I promise to marry after the war and that was the last conversation I had with her."
Caitlyn looks sad and just leaves but I was too lost memories to care and after a while I went to the nursey and I found Benjen there and he is over a big crib and he notice me and he waves me over with a smile on his face and I walk over and sees Jon,Cregan and Robb and tightly holding each hands as they slept and this brought a smile to my face knowing the future of House Stark were all together.