The gods flipped their ancient coin that morning - heads for glory, tails for tragedy. As it spun through the ethereal realm, fate itself held its breath. When it landed, showing the crowned head of some long-dead king, the trajectory of an entire kingdom shifted imperceptibly.
The crowd roared as Barristan Selmy and Prince Rhaegar thundered down the lists one final time. Their lances levelled, horses' hooves pounding the earth in perfect rhythm. The impact resounded like thunder - wood splintered, and the Dragon Prince went flying. Rhaegar Targaryen hit the ground with a crash of silver armour. For a heartbeat, silence fell over Harrenhal. Then the crowd erupted as Barristan Selmy circled back, victorious.
"Ser Barristan the Bold!" the herald proclaimed. "Champion of the Tourney at Harrenhal!"
From her place in the stands, Ashara's heart raced. She caught Ned's eye briefly across the crowd, both remembering the passion they'd shared mere hours ago. But now was not their moment.
Barristan Selmy sat tall upon his white charger as servants brought forth the crown of winter roses. The traditional crowning of the Queen of Love and Beauty - a moment that would echo through history, though none knew it yet. The bold knight guided his horse past the royal box where Princess Elia sat beside her ladies. Past the Stark section where Lyanna watched with bright eyes. Past a dozen other highborn beauties. Until he reached Ashara Dayne.
"My lady," he said, his voice carrying across the suddenly hushed crowd. "None here shine brighter than the Star of Dorne." With gentle reverence, he placed the crown of blue roses upon her dark hair. She felt the weight of a thousand eyes upon her as she accepted with a graceful nod.
"You honour me, Ser Barristan," she said clearly, though her heart thundered. From across the stands, she caught Ned's gaze again. His grey eyes were full of something unreadable - pride? Jealousy? Love? Before she could decode it, the crowd's cheers drowned out all thought.
Later, as she touched the soft petals of her crown, she wondered if the gods truly had smiled upon them all that day. For in another world, in another story, a different knight might have crowned a different lady - and the realm might have bled for it. But today, winter roses crowned the Star of Dorne, and somewhere in the heavens, that fateful coin came to rest.
The great hall of Harrenhal blazed with a thousand candles as the final feast began. The crown of winter roses still adorned Ashara's dark hair as she took her place in the first dance with Ser Barristan.
"You've caused quite a stir, Ser," she teased as they moved through the steps.
"A knight must be bold, my lady," he replied with a gentle smile. "Though I fear I've made someone rather jealous."
Her eyes flickered briefly to where Ned sat, his face carefully composed. "Perhaps..."
The evening whirled by in a parade of partners - Arthur Dayne, her own brother, beaming with pride. Prince Rhaegar, gracious in defeat. Robert Baratheon, boisterous and full of jests. Yet her gaze kept finding its way back to those grey Stark eyes. It was well past midnight when Brandon Stark's voice boomed across the hall, cutting through the music. He stood on a table, wine cup raised high.
"To my little brother Ned!" he proclaimed, swaying slightly. "Who's been mooning about like a lovesick pup all evening! Though who can blame him, when the Star of Dorne shines so bright?"
Ned's face flushed crimson as laughter rippled through the hall. Ashara felt her own cheeks warm, though she couldn't help smiling. "Brandon!" Ned hissed, trying to pull his brother down.
"Oh, come now, little brother! Everyone's seen how you look at her. And how she looks at you!" Brandon winked broadly. "To young love!"
"To young love!" the hall echoed, raising their cups. Finally breaking free of her latest partner, Ashara made her way to where Ned stood, still red-faced but smiling despite himself.
"Your brother is..."
"An ass," Ned finished, taking her hand. "Though perhaps not entirely wrong."
She squeezed his fingers. "Dance with me?" As they moved together, the rest of the hall seemed to fade away. His arms felt like coming home after a long journey.
"I've wanted to hold you all evening," he murmured, low enough that only she could hear.
"I know," she whispered back. "Every time I was in another's arms, I wished they were yours."
His hand tightened on her waist. "The roses suit you."
"Would you have crowned me, if you'd won?"
"In a heartbeat," he answered without hesitation. "Though perhaps not as boldly as Ser Barristan."
She laughed softly. "No, you're not one for grand gestures, are you? But your quiet ways..." she pressed closer, "they speak loudly enough to me." The music slowed, and they swayed together, lost in their own world. Brandon's drunken toasts continued in the background, but they barely heard them.
"Stay with me tonight?" she breathed against his ear.
"The tourney's over," he reminded her. "We ride north tomorrow."
"Then give me one more night to remember you by." Those violet eyes pulled him in like the tide draws sailors to their doom - and like those ancient mariners, he went willingly. The candlelight caught the amethyst depths, making them shimmer with promises of pleasure and heartache intertwined.
"Gods help me," he breathed, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. "I could drown in those eyes."
She leaned into his touch, her lips curving into that secret smile that had bewitched him from the start. "Then drown with me, my wolf." The music continued around them, but they barely moved now, locked in each other's gaze. Her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck, sending shivers down his spine.
"We shouldn't," he whispered, even as his body drew closer to hers.
"Shouldn't we?" Her eyes sparkled with mischief and desire. "Tell me truly - will you be able to sleep tonight, knowing it's our last chance?"
"No," he admitted, his voice rough with wanting. "Every time I close my eyes, I see you. Every time I try to think of home, I think of you instead."
She pressed herself against him, her breath warm against his ear. "Then don't fight it. Come to my chambers. Let me give you sweeter memories for the road north."
His hands tightened on her waist. "Your brother..."
"Is deep in his cups with Brandon," she laughed softly. "And I'm old enough to choose my own path." The winter roses in her hair perfumed the air between them as she pulled back just enough to meet his eyes again. Those bewitching violet depths held promises that made his blood run hot.
"One more night," he agreed, already lost to her spell.
Her smile was radiant. "One more night," she echoed, though something in her eyes suggested she was already plotting ways to make it more. They finished their dance in charged silence, every touch electric with anticipation. And if his heart beat a little faster at the thought of what was to come... well, that was a risk he was gladly willing to take.
The feast roared on around them, but they were already in their own world, counting the moments until they could slip away. Brandon's booming laugh covered their exit, though Ned caught his brother's knowing wink as they left the hall.
In the torch-lit corridor, she turned to him with those devastating eyes. "Coming, my wolf?" And like countless men before him who'd followed beautiful women to their destiny, Ned Stark took her hand and followed where she led.
The heavy door had barely closed behind them when Ned pulled her into his embrace, one hand cradling her face while the other wrapped around her waist. The winter roses in her hair brushed against his cheek, their sweet scent mingling with her own intoxicating fragrance.
"Ashara," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. His thumb traced her lower lip as his grey eyes searched her violet ones, memorizing every detail.
She melted against him, her hands sliding up his chest to rest over his thundering heart. "My sweet wolf," she whispered. When his lips finally met hers, it was with exquisite tenderness. None of the desperate passion of the night before - this kiss spoke of deeper things, of feelings neither dared name aloud. His mouth moved against hers with gentle reverence, as if she were something precious he feared might shatter. She sighed into the kiss, her fingers curling into his tunic. His tongue traced her lips with delicate precision, tasting, savouring. When she opened for him, he explored her mouth with the same sweet thoroughness, drawing soft sounds of pleasure from her throat.
"I want to remember this," he murmured against her lips. "Every detail. The way you feel..." Another gentle kiss. "The way you taste..." His lips brushed her jaw. "The sound of your heartbeat..."
"Ned," she breathed, arching into him as his mouth found that sensitive spot below her ear. "You're making me weak in the knees."
He smiled against her skin. "Then let me hold you up." His arms tightened around her, supporting her weight as she melted further into him. The candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls as they swayed together, trading slow, deep kisses that made her head spin. His hands roamed her back with careful reverence while hers tangled in his hair.
"Stay with me until dawn," she whispered between kisses. "Let me have every moment until then."
"Until dawn," he agreed, his voice rough with emotion. "And every moment after, in my dreams."
She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her violet eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Kiss me again," she demanded softly. "Make me forget there's a tomorrow." His response was to capture her lips once more, pouring all his unspoken feelings into the kiss.
The winter roses in her hair slowly shed their petals, scattering them around their feet like stars fallen to earth. Neither noticed, lost in the gentle exploration of each other's mouths, each kiss slower and deeper than the last, as if they could stop time itself through the sheer force of their tender passion. Her nimble fingers made quick work of his doublet's laces, her lips never leaving his as she worked. The fine wool fell open beneath her touch, revealing his linen shirt beneath. She tugged it free from his breeches with eager hands, breaking their kiss only long enough to pull it over his head.
"Gods, I've been wanting to do this all evening," she breathed, running her hands over his newly exposed chest. Her fingers traced the defined muscles, exploring every dip and curve.
Ned's hands weren't idle either. He found the intricate laces of her gown, cursing softly at their complexity. "How do you manage these on your own?"
She laughed, a low, sultry sound. "Practice, my wolf. Though I much prefer having help removing them." She turned, presenting her back to him. "Start from the top." His fingers, usually so sure with a sword, fumbled slightly with the delicate ties. But soon he found his rhythm, slowly revealing inches of her smooth skin. The gown loosened, and she shrugged it off her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet in a whisper of silk.
"Your turn," she murmured, reaching for the laces of his breeches. Her fingers brushed against him teasingly as she worked, making his breath catch. He kicked off his boots while she unlaced him, then helped her step out of her own delicate slippers. Her shift followed her gown to the floor, and his breeches soon joined them. Standing bare before each other, they paused for a moment of mutual appreciation. The candlelight played across their skin, casting golden shadows. Her hands slid up his chest again while his traced the curves of her waist.
"Beautiful," he breathed, taking in every detail of her nude form. The winter roses still crowned her dark hair, though several petals had fallen to dust her shoulders.
She pressed against him, skin to skin, drawing a groan from both their throats. "Touch me," she demanded softly, guiding his hands to her body. "Make me feel alive." Ashara felt his hesitation, the slight tension in his body as he tried to meet what he thought were her expectations. She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, seeing the mix of desire and uncertainty there.
"My sweet wolf," she whispered, cupping his face in her hands. "Why so tense?"
Ned flushed, averting his eyes. "I want... I want to please you. But I'm not..." he glanced down meaningfully at his still limp cock, embarrassment colouring his cheeks.
Her laugh was warm and free, without a trace of mockery. "Oh, my love," she pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Is that what worries you? Come here."
She led him to the bed, pulling him down beside her. "There's no rush," she murmured, trailing her fingers along his chest. "We have all night. And there are so many ways to please each other."
"I just... last night I was more..."
"Last night you were drunk on wine and victory," she teased gently. "Tonight you're thinking too much. Let me help you forget your thoughts."
She pressed him back against the pillows, kissing him deeply while her hands roamed his body with practiced skill. "Close your eyes," she instructed softly. "Just feel."
He obeyed, letting out a shaky breath as her lips followed the path of her hands. "Ashara..."
"Shhh," she soothed. "Let me take care of you. There's no need to worry about anything right now." Her touch was gentle but confident, alternating between feather-light caresses and firmer pressure. She took her time, exploring his body with both hands and mouth until she felt the tension leaving his muscles.
Ned's entire body jerked as her warm mouth enveloped him. His hands fisted in the sheets, a strangled gasp escaping his throat as he watched her dark head move between his thighs. The sight of those perfect lips wrapped around his length made his head spin. "Gods... Ashara..." he moaned, his face flushing deep red even as pleasure coursed through him. "You don't have to..."
She pulled off just long enough to fix him with those mesmerizing violet eyes. "I want to," she purred, her tongue flicking out to trace his tip. "I want to taste you, feel you..." Her mouth descended again, taking him deeper this time. Her tongue swirled around his shaft as she bobbed her head, one hand wrapped around his base while the other caressed his thighs. Each movement drew increasingly desperate sounds from his throat.
"Look at me," she commanded softly, pulling back again. When his grey eyes met hers, she slowly took him in again, maintaining eye contact that made his breath catch.
"Seven hells," he groaned, one hand tentatively moving to tangle in her hair. The winter roses' crown had fallen askew, petals scattered across the bed. She hummed in approval around him, the vibrations making him buck involuntarily. Her rhythm increased, alternating between deep strokes and teasing licks that had him trembling.
"Ashara, I... I can't..." he warned, trying to pull away. She just gripped his hips firmly, redoubling her efforts until he was completely lost to the sensation. His embarrassment melted away under the onslaught of pleasure, replaced by pure need.
She released him with a final teasing lick, sitting back on her heels to admire her handiwork. His cock stood proudly now, flushed and glistening from her attention. The sight made her smile with satisfaction, her violet eyes gleaming with mischief and desire. "See? All good now," she purred, trailing her fingers up his trembling thighs. "I told you there was nothing to worry about."
Ned could barely form coherent thoughts, his chest heaving as he looked at her. The candlelight caught the sheen of moisture on her lips, making them glisten. "You're... that was..."
"Mmm, speechless?" She crawled up his body like a cat, pressing kisses along his chest. "And here I thought Northerners were supposed to be stoic."
His hands found her hips, pulling her closer. "You make it impossible to be stoic," he managed, voice rough with need.
She straddled his thighs, her own arousal evident as she rocked against him. "Good. I want you wild for me, my wolf." Her fingers traced patterns on his chest. "Now... what shall we do with this?" She reached between them to wrap her hand around his length, giving him a firm stroke that made him groan.
"Ashara," he breathed, hips bucking into her touch. "Please..."
"Please what?" She leaned down to nip at his ear. "Tell me what you want."
His hands tightened on her hips. "I want... I need..."
"Yes?" She continued her teasing strokes. "Say it..."
"I want you," he confessed, his voice raw with emotion that went far deeper than mere desire. "All of you. Not just tonight..." His grey eyes met her violet ones, vulnerable and honest. "Gods help me, Ashara, I think I'm falling in love with you."She stilled above him, her hand moving to cup his face. Something flickered in those haunting eyes - longing, tenderness, and perhaps a touch of sadness.
"My sweet wolf," she whispered, leaning down to kiss him softly. "So earnest, so true." Her thumb traced his lower lip. "You're making this much harder than it should be."
He caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. "I know I'm just a second son, not worthy of..."
"Hush," she pressed her fingers to his lips. "Don't you dare finish that thought. You're worth more than all the lords of Westeros combined." She rocked against him deliberately, drawing a groan from his throat. "And right now, you're mine."
His hands slid up her back, pulling her closer. "Always yours," he breathed against her neck. "Even when I'm gone, my heart will stay here with you."
She captured his mouth in a passionate kiss, pouring all her unspoken feelings into it. When she pulled back, her eyes were shining. "Then give me something to remember you by," she whispered, positioning herself above him. "Show me how much you want me."
With practiced grace, she flipped them over, her dark hair fanning out across the pillows like a midnight halo. The remaining winter roses scattered, releasing their sweet fragrance into the air. Her violet eyes sparkled with desire and mischief as she gazed up at him.
"There," she purred, running her hands up his chest. "I want to see you above me, my wolf." Ned braced himself on his forearms, his body trembling with need as he looked down at her. The candlelight played across her perfect features, making her skin glow like moonlight on snow.
"You're so beautiful," he breathed, lowering his head to kiss her neck. "Like something from a dream."
She arched beneath him, wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him closer. "I'm very real," she whispered, nipping at his ear. "Feel how real I am."
He groaned as she rocked against him, the sensation making his head spin. "Guide me," he murmured against her skin. "Show me how to please you."
Her hands slid down his back, urging him closer. "Just like that," she breathed as he pressed into her. "Oh... my sweet wolf..." Their bodies joined perfectly, drawing gasps from both their throats. She cradled his face in her hands, pulling him down for a deep kiss as they began to move together.
"Look at me," she demanded softly when their lips parted. "I want to see your eyes." His grey gaze locked with her violet one as they found their rhythm, each thrust bringing them closer to ecstasy.
"Just like that," Ashara breathed, her legs tightening around him as she guided his movements. "Nice and deep... mmm, perfect." His strokes were measured and careful, each one drawing soft sounds of pleasure from her throat. Her hands roamed his back, feeling the muscles flex with every thrust.
"You can go a little faster," she whispered, nipping at his ear. "Don't be afraid to lose control. I want to feel all of you."
Ned buried his face in her neck, overwhelmed by sensation. "I don't want to finish too soon," he admitted, his voice rough with need.
She laughed softly, the sound turning into a moan as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. "Then we'll just have to do it again... and again..." Her nails scraped lightly down his back. "We have all night, remember?"
His rhythm faltered at her words, pleasure threatening to overwhelm him. "Ashara..."
"That's it," she encouraged, rolling her hips to meet his thrusts. "Let go for me. Show me how good it feels." Her legs locked around him, changing the angle slightly. The new position had him seeing stars, drawing a deep groan from his chest.
"Gods, you feel incredible," he gasped, his movements becoming less controlled. "I never knew it could be like this..." She captured his mouth in a passionate kiss, swallowing his moans as their bodies moved in perfect harmony. Her hands tangled in his hair, holding him close as pleasure built between them.
"My sweet wolf," she breathed against his lips. "So perfect... so good..." The world dissolved into pure sensation as pleasure crashed over him like a tidal wave. His entire body tensed, muscles trembling as his release approached with unstoppable force.
"Ashara... I'm going to..." he gasped against her neck, his rhythm becoming erratic.
"Yes," she breathed, holding him tighter. "Fill me up, my wolf. Give me everything..."
His vision went white as ecstasy exploded through him. His cock pulsed powerfully inside her, spilling wave after wave of his hot seed deep within her welcoming warmth. Each throb drew another groan from his throat, his hips jerking involuntarily as he emptied himself completely.
"That's it," she moaned, her inner walls clenching around him as she felt his release. "Gods, I can feel how much you needed that..." He couldn't form words, could only gasp and shudder as the pleasure seemed endless. His whole body was wracked with spasms of pure bliss, every nerve ending singing with sensation. When the final pulses subsided, he collapsed against her, utterly spent. She held him close, stroking his sweat-dampened hair as their breathing slowly steadied.
"My sweet wolf," she murmured, pressing soft kisses to his temple. "So perfect..."
He managed to lift his head enough to look at her, his grey eyes dark with satisfied passion. "I've never... that was..." he tried to find words to express the intensity of what he'd just experienced.
She silenced him with a tender kiss. "I know," she whispered against his lips. "I felt it too."
"Watch me," Ashara purred, her violet eyes gleaming with wicked delight as her hand slid between their joined bodies. Her other hand kept him pressed close, ensuring he stayed buried inside her while she worked.
"Gods," Ned breathed, transfixed by the sight of her fingers circling her sensitive flesh. His cock twitched within her, gradually hardening again as she put on her sensual display.
"Mmm, still eager I see," she teased, her back arching as she pleasured herself. "Good... because I'm not done with you yet, my wolf."
Her movements became more focused, her breathing growing ragged. "Can you feel how much I want you?" she gasped, her inner walls squeezing around his length. "How wet you make me?" He could only groan in response, mesmerized by her uninhibited sexuality. Her smile was pure sin, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure as she worked herself closer to the edge.
"Touch my breasts," she commanded softly. When his hands obeyed, she moaned appreciatively. "Perfect... just like that..."
Her fingers moved faster, her body beginning to tremble. "Stay inside me," she gasped. "I want to feel you when I..." Her words dissolved into a cry of pleasure as she reached her peak, her whole body shuddering with release. The rhythmic pulsing around his cock had him fully hard again, ready for another round.
"Now then," she smiled up at him once she caught her breath, her eyes promising delicious wickedness. "Shall we see how many more times we can make each other come before dawn?" The night seemed endless, yet passed all too quickly as they explored each other again and again. Each time was different - sometimes slow and tender, other times wild and desperate.
"You're learning fast," Ashara praised as she rode him for the third time, her hair wild and skin glistening with sweat. "Such a quick study..."
"I have an excellent teacher," he managed between gasps, his hands gripping her hips as she moved above him.
They lost count of their peaks as the candles burned low. Sometimes they'd pause to catch their breath, sharing wine and sweet kisses before passion overtook them again. She taught him every way she could think of to please her, and he proved an eager student.
"I want to remember every detail," he whispered as he took her from behind, his chest pressed to her back. "The way you feel, the sounds you make..."
"Then make it memorable," she challenged, pushing back against him. "Make me scream your name..."
The winter roses were completely destroyed by dawn, their petals crushed and scattered across the sweat-dampened sheets. The first rays of sunlight found them tangled together, thoroughly spent but still trading lazy kisses.
"The sun rises too soon," Ashara murmured against his chest, tracing patterns on his skin.
"Aye," he agreed softly, tightening his arms around her. "But we made the night count."
She lifted her head to smile at him, her violet eyes soft with something that might have been love. "That we did, my wolf. That we did."
Ashara's heart fluttered at his earnest words, spoken in that quiet Northern way of his that always made her believe anything was possible. They lay facing each other, their bodies still warm and languid from their lovemaking.
"My father... he'll understand," Ned said, tracing her cheekbone with gentle fingers. "You're from a noble house, beautiful and accomplished. House Dayne is ancient and honourable..."
She caught his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm. "And what of Brandon? He's to marry the Tully girl..."
"I'm not Brandon," he said with quiet conviction. "I'm the second son. Father has more freedom in choosing my match. And once he meets you..." His grey eyes were full of hope and determination.
"Tell me more," she whispered, snuggling closer. "Tell me what you dream of."
"I'd give you a home," he continued, emboldened by her encouragement. "Not Winterfell, but perhaps Moat Cailin or another holdfast. We could restore it together. And our children..." he blushed slightly but pressed on, "they'd have your beauty and grace."
"And your honour," she added softly. "Your kindness."
"You don't think I'm foolish? A second son presuming so much?"
Ashara silenced him with a tender kiss. "No, my sweet wolf. Never foolish. Dreams like these... they're what make life worth living."
"Then you'll consider it? Truly?"
"More than consider," she smiled, her violet eyes shining with unshed tears. "I'll pray to every god there is to make it happen."
He pulled her closer, his heart soaring. "I'll speak to Father as soon as we return North. I'll make him see..."
"I know you will," she whispered against his chest. "And I'll wait for your raven. I'll wait as long as it takes." They held each other close, spinning dreams of a shared future in the pre-dawn light.
"Tell me more about our home," she urged softly. "About the life we'll build..." And so they spent the remaining hours before dawn planning a future, their words full of love and promise and desperate hope.
"I'll make this real," he vowed as the first light crept into their chamber. "I swear it by the old gods and the new."
Ashara believed him. How could she not, when his grey eyes held such certainty? Such love? "My honourable wolf," she whispered, kissing him deeply. "My future."
The first months were agony. Ned's letters grew increasingly frustrated as Lord Rickard dismissed his requests to discuss marriage.
"He won't even hear me out," Ned wrote to Ashara. "Keeps talking about 'more suitable matches' in the North."
But Brandon, for all his wild ways, proved to be his brother's strongest ally. He cornered their father in his solar one evening after watching Ned's quiet suffering for too long.
"Father," Brandon's voice boomed through the castle. "You're being blind. I've seen them together at Harrenhal. This isn't some passing fancy."
"The Daynes are Dornish..." Rickard began.
"And what of it?" Brandon interrupted. "Their house is as old as ours. They've produced Swords of the Morning since before the Conquest. And Ashara..." he softened his tone, "she makes Ned smile, Father. When was the last time you saw him truly smile?"
Rickard paused at that, remembering his serious second son's transformed face at Harrenhal.
"Besides," Brandon pressed his advantage, "I'm securing the Riverlands with my marriage. Let Ned have his Star of Dorne. The alliance could prove valuable."
Days passed as Rickard considered. He watched Ned training in the yard, noting how his usually focused son seemed distracted, grey eyes often turning southward.
Finally, over dinner one evening, Rickard spoke. "This Lady Ashara... she's Arthur Dayne's sister?"
Ned's head snapped up, hope blooming in his chest. "Yes, Father."
"And you're certain? This isn't just some tournament romance?"
"I love her," Ned said simply, with that quiet conviction that was so characteristically him. "I'll love no other."
Brandon kicked him encouragingly under the table as their father sighed.
"Very well. I'll write to Lord Dayne." Rickard held up a hand as Ned started to rise. "No promises, mind. But... we'll see."
Ned's letter to Ashara that night was filled with more joy than his usual measured words: "He's agreed to write. Brandon helped - who would have thought my wild brother would be the voice of reason? Keep praying, my love. The gods seem to be listening." The raven flew south, carrying hopes and dreams on its dark wings, while in her tower at Starfall, Ashara watched the northern skies and waited for news that would change her world.
The white walls of Starfall gleamed like pearl against the azure Dornish sky as Ned's party approached. His heart thundered in his chest - six moons of letters, of dreams, of longing, all leading to this moment. Ashara stood at the top of the ceremonial steps, resplendent in a gown of lavender silk that made her violet eyes seem to glow. When their gazes met across the courtyard, time seemed to stop.
"My lord Stark," she greeted formally, though her eyes danced with barely contained joy. "Starfall welcomes you."
"My lady," he replied, his voice rough with emotion as he bowed. The proper greetings and introductions seemed to take an eternity.
Finally, after what felt like hours of formalities, they found a moment alone in the castle gardens. The moment the last servant disappeared around a corner, Ashara flew into his arms.
"Six moons," she breathed against his neck. "Six endless moons without you..."
He held her tight, breathing in her familiar scent of jasmine and sunshine. "Every day felt like a year," he murmured into her hair. "Every night I dreamed of you."
She pulled back just enough to look at him, her violet eyes shining. "Tell me it's real," she whispered. "Tell me the arrangements are truly made."
"Real as the sun above us," he assured her, touching her face reverently. "Father and Lord Dayne have agreed to terms. We'll be wed before the year's end."
Her laugh of pure joy echoed off the garden walls as she threw her arms around his neck. "I was so afraid," she admitted. "Afraid it was all just a beautiful dream..."
"No dream," he promised, pulling her closer. "Though you're more beautiful than any dream could be." She kissed him then, six moons of longing poured into one passionate embrace. When they finally parted, both were breathing heavily.
"My chambers," she whispered against his lips. "Tonight. I won't wait another moment longer than I must to have you again."
His grey eyes darkened with desire. "Your brother..."
"Knows better than to interfere," she smiled wickedly. "Besides, we're to be wed. What harm in starting our marriage bed a little early?"
He laughed softly, the sound full of joy and promise. "How did I ever deserve you?"
"By being exactly who you are," she replied, kissing him again. "My honourable wolf."