Eddard I

The letter had come unexpected, carried by a crow of King's Landing, the royal seal stamped under the signature of that friend he had not seen in nearly six years. It was typical of Robert, getting in contact with him only in times of need, and this was why Ned had thought another war was looming at the horizon. After all, avery similar looking letter had arrived a few years earlier to inform him about the Rebellion of Balon Greyjoy. His friend had called him up with an enthusiasm that only he could show off in such grave circumstances. That letter, however, was completely different, perhaps because, clearly, it had not been written by the king but by his Hand. Robert was not able to write a letter so elegant and ambiguous - he was as directed as the arrow of a bow. No, the words which informed him about the future of his first son were Jon Arryn's, although Ned had no doubt that Robert had agreed with every and each word.

The letter was far too pleasent to be about something that was so serious. The fact that it was an implicit order, did darken him further.

Ned was not well versed in politics, but even he himself could see that Robert's accession to the throne had not been painless and accepted by all the Seven Kingdoms. Dorne had been waiting silently for eleven years, since Elia Martell and her children had been brutally murdered. Dorne had not rebelled, but it was simply because of the cautious and prudent policy of Prince Doran - his brother Oberyn was not as peaceful.

It was vital that Dorne became part of the domains of the King in all respects, and what better way than a wedding?

The Lord of Winterfell wanted to be in his Godswood, the only place in which he could think more calmly, but the letter had been delivered when he was still in his chambers, and now he felt too tired to walk up in the presence of the Old Gods. His only relief was the comforting presence of his beloved wife. From the bed where she was still lying down, he felt her moving restless. A cascade of chestnut hair warned him that the woman he loved had become closer to him.

"Bad news from the capital?" There was a subtle hint of concern in her voice, that pushed Ned to shake his head. No, it was not bad news, a marriage never was, or at least should not be.

Not for the first time in the last eleven years, Eddard wondered what it must have been for his lady wife to leave her warm and prosperous Riverlands for the cold, harsh North. She was a woman of the South, grown and flourished in lands warm and hospitable, and the man knew it had not been easy for her to leave her home for Winterfell. She was far from her family and even her Gods.

If Catelyn of House Tully had had an hard time adjusting to the sudden shift of her life, how much harder would it be for Sharra Martell, a princess of Dorne?

"A letter from Robert - the King." He spoke softly, measuring every word. After many years it was still odd to show such reverence for childhood friend. "Read it yourself."

Cat took the parchment slowly, as if she was reaching out to pet a wild animal.

Eddard watched the expressions on her face alternating as she read. First a suspicious expression, than a puzzled frown. At the end she was just plainly furious. She had a way of getting angry, Catelyn, Ned admired. It was elegant and solemn, even in circumstances in which feelings could get the better of her. His lady wife turned to him only after crashing the letter in her hand.

"We are his parents, yet the King takes away our right to choose a good bride for Robb. Our first born child."

Ned nodded, he understood what his wife was feeling, Robb was their firstborn, the first one that Cat had held her in her arms, that had smiled to them, that they had witness take the first steps. Robb had been the first to do everything, but most importantly he was the first child for which his wife had lived, when the Seven Kingdoms were at war, and she was alone in Winterfell, a lady of a castle she did not know and wife to the brother's man she was supposed to marry. Even Ned himself loved Robb in a different way from all his other children; he was his heir and he had been proud of him from the very first moment he laid eyes on him.

He was so handsome and strong, with the serene blue eyes of the Tullys and the typical chestnut curly hair.

Thinking that the child he remembered being in the arms of a young Catelyn Stark, had been promised to a princess of a land so far away, caused him a strange feeling. "Cat," he called her in a calm voice, but she did not seem to hear him.

"It says that there are only a few months left before the arrival of the girl." He heard her murmur, her tone folded with injustice.

Her blue eyes nailed him there where he was. "I always wished to choose the suitable bride for Robb, perhaps a woman of the North, who knows the traditions of this place cold and hostile. Or maybe a Southern woman, kind and wise. I never imagined that the future of my son would have been chosen by the King. "

Ned sighed, "I know, Cat. However I am certain that the Robb's betrothed will make him a good wife, and we should be proud. Sharra Martell is, after all, a princess of Dorne."

"She is the second princess of Dorne. Arianne Martell is the Prince Doran's heir and first child." Catelyn pointed out, obstinate. As the conversation went on, Ned began to think that Cat would never approve of any woman for her precious Robb.

"Arianne is a few years older than Robb, she is already a woman. Robert has found more appropriate the younger daughter. She is the same age as Robb."

Catelyn sighed before smiling tired, "I suppose that I need to get used to the idea."

"I suppose so." There was nothing more to say on the subject. They could complain and whine all they wanted, but they would not change anything.

Soon a girl of Dorne would come to Winterfell. This was the will of the King, and you could not deny anything to a king.

"However they will not get married for a few years. They are still children. Robert does not impose a date for the wedding, we could wait up to their sixteen name day." Eddard spoke without real conviction.

The King did not specify any date, but knowing him he expected a marriage after the first blood of the girl, which the warden of the North did not accept.

A girl of thirteen or fourteen years is not a woman, and certainly not a wife.

His lady seemed to ponder an important thought. Finally she spoke. "I want Robb to have familiarity with his bride before their marriage. I want him to know her flaws and her strengths." She wants to wait to see if they fall in love, as it happened to us. "We will wait their sixteenth name days."

Ned put his arm around her tense shoulders, to push her against his chest. "As my lady commands."

Now they just had to find a way to talk to Robb.

Ned was not afraid of his reaction, he knew his son would never openly complain and would not seek a way to break the engagement. He was the heir of Winterfell, and an arranged marriage was what was required to produce an heir.

He would speak to him that evening. He would look into his eyes while informing him of the decision of the King.

That was what was required of a father.

It had been a dinner quieter than the others, even with all his children arguing, the servants carrying food on the table, Theon Greyjoy laughing and various attendants of Winterfell. Brandon, his youngest son, a child of four, had stared at him with his Tully blue eyes and a thoughtful expression on his face, from his seat next to Catelyn. He was the most sensitive to changes in mood, even more than the much older Robb and Jon, even more than his sixteen years old ward. Arya, barely six years old, realized that something was wrong with him only after he failed to reply to the questions she had posed. Ned was sure she had been irritated, because as Sansa was Cat's girl, Arya was his.

She had his features- the same fold of the lips as she smiled, the same gray eyes and the same frowning - but she had the independent and almost wild behaviour of his beloved sister Lyanna. Ned had no doubt that one day Arya would come to him to ask for a sword, as Lyanna had done when she was a child. The other children remained unaware. Not for long, he told himself.

After dinner, Eddard stood up, and after a nod to Cat - who nodded and took away Bran and Arya, followed by Sansa - he turned to Robb.

"Walk with me to the Godswood."

Involved in a discussion with Jon, Robb had turned surprised, but had agreed with a vague curiosity.

Now, in front of the heart trees and the Old Gods, he looked at him with disbelief and dismay.

"A princess of Dorne? Here, at Winterfell?" It was obvious that he was puzzled, and Ned did not blame him.

"The king has decided?" Finally he whispered.

"I know this sudden engagement catches you by surprise, your mother and I have known only since this afternoon, but it is vital to tie Dorne to the Throne." Eddard spoke empty words, he knew it.

"Why us? The princess is from Dorne, when she will ever get used to the North?"

The Lord of Winterfell noted with a touch of pride that the his heir's question was very rational.

"Offering a Baratheon or a Lannister would be a misstep, the Martell are still mourning the death of Princess Elia and her two children. And Robert does not trust any other family, except ours, maybe if Jon Arryn's son had been older ... " Ned shook his head. "But he is only four years old. The task of uniting Dorne to the other six kingdoms is of House Stark."

Robb sighed through his nose. "I understand, father. It is a great honor."

His boy was trying to appear much stronger than he was, Ned knew. He was just a boy of eleven, and at his age he could not be happy with an engagement - let alone to a girl coming from the farthest corner of the seven kingdoms.

"Sharra Martell is the second daughter of Prince Doran, and the third child after Arianne and Quentyn. She is not the heir to Sunspear, but this is still a good match." Ned wanted to explain carefully, he did not want Robb to think that this engagement was not an important one. He was about to add something else when his son surprised him.

"Father," Robb said, "I will be happy to marry the princess Sharra, treat her as befits and as the lady my mother will show me."

Winter is coming and my son is growing up.

"She will be here in four months."

N/A.

I've had this OFC in mind for a while, I hope you'll like her. Tell me if you wish to read more.