Prince Eddard Stark never knew his namesake.
His father often told him the story of the first Eddard Stark, and how he indirectly caused the War of Five Kings. His namesake was the reason why his father was king, why Daenerys Targaryen was on the throne.
Why Cate will be queen, he thought bitterly. It didn't matter. Even if he became king one day, which he would, Eddard couldn't break that betrothal unless he wanted to torch the North.
Eddard suddenly felt a sharp pain at the back of his head, and rubbed his dark hair. "Ow!" He complained, "What was that for?"
"You weren't paying attention," Rickon said. "Now try again," Eddard furrowed his eyebrows in concentration before going into his stance, holding his sword in his right hand. "Too tightly," Uncle Rickon said, hitting Ed's hand with the but of a sword. Grumbling, the prince loosened his grip on the sword, and shifted his weight.
Another hit, this time to his waist. "Even out your weight. A breeze could knock you over,"
Ed dropped his pose and his sword, and groaned. "Ugh! This is impossible!"
From behind him, he heard a very unladylike snort. "Like this, numb nuts," Cate said, picking up a sword. Her green eyes narrowed as her body went into perfect stance, and did the move that Ed had failed at with an annoying amount of ease. "See?" Rickon said, raising his eyebrows, "Your little sister is better than you,"
Ed groaned again, and picked up the sword before Cate's eyes widened. "Shit!" she exclaimed, looking past her brother. Ned turned his head lazily, before cursing as well. When he looked back, all he could see was his sister's braid bouncing on her back as she ran to the Godswood.
"Ned," Annablyth greeted, smiling as she made her way down to the courtyard. "How is the training?" Ed had to try very hard not to roll his eyes. No matter how subtle Annablyth thought she was being, Ed could see her stormy eyes scanning the crowd of trainees. "Eddard needs a lot more training," Rickon said in his gruff voice. "He just needs to focus,"
"Yes," she muttered, straining her neck. "That's lovely," Ed closed his eyes in dismay when he saw his mother's eyes narrow. "Catelyn Stark!" she screamed, and started storming to where Cate had run off to. Without even looking, Ed could hear tree branches rustling, and imagined Cate's face when she was making up a lie. A moment later, there were noises of scolding and a loud complaint.
Chuckling, Ed went back to his dummy.
• • •
Rickon slapped his nephew's back a little harder than necessary, murmuring a, "Focus harder," and walking off to find his wife.
Without anyone watching, Ed was finally able to release the eye roll that had been pleading to be let out.
His Uncle Rickon was great, and fun, and fierce, but he was a little rough. Then again, he had been raised in the midst of a war. Both his parents were down in the crypts, and Ed couldn't imagine living without his father or his mother.
After bathing and dressing, Ed made his way to his sister's room. He knocked, once, before she opened it. She silently stepped aside, letting him enter.
Cate shut the door, bolted it, and Ed smiled in anticipation.
"That bitch!" She shouted. Ed sat himself down, and nodded. "She thinks she can just control my life!" Then, making her voice way too high, she imitated, "'Catelyn. You are to be queen of the Six Kingdoms one day, and you must act like it.'" Cate dramatically groaned, before flopping on the bed. From his position, Ed couldn't see her expression, but he imagined it was sorrowful, "I don't want to be queen," she said, her voice quivering her so slightly. "Arlette should be queen. Gods know that she wants it enough,"
Cate sat up and looked at her only brother in his eyes, emeralds meeting topazes. "Will I be a good queen?" Her whisper was so heartbroken that Ed brought her to him, hugging her and stroking her brown hair. "Of course Cate," he said.
They stayed like this, but Ed knew that no tears would leak out. If Cate was anything, it was strong.
"Come on," he said, gingerly peeling the brunette away from him. "You have to get dressed," Cate rolled her eyes and ranted, "That's also ridiculous! Men just need to put on some tunics and breeches, which are also made by women, mind you, but women have to slave for an hour to look anywhere near acceptable!"
Chuckling, Ed left her alone.
He went to his own chambers, and changed into a grey tunic with silver direwolves on his shoulders. His black hair touched the tops of his ears, and it took him a while to muse it until it looked nice.
When he decided he looked princely, he made his way down to the courtyard. His mother was shouting orders and flitting about, her skirts brushing the ground. "Oh gods, put away that crossbow! We are not displaying our weapons here!"
"Mother," He said politely, walking up to her. She turned, a smile on her lips, looking him up and down. "You look lovely Ned. Very acceptable,"
Ed only let his mother call him Ned. Ned was the solemn lord that resided in the crypts; Ed was the promising heir to the North. "Have you seen Cate? She needs to be ready. Knowing her, she'll choose a leather tunic and call it acceptable," Annablyth shook her heads, her black curls bobbing.
"I'll go check on her," Ed promised, before his mother scurried away to yell at a servant boy.
On the way to his sister's chambers, he ran into Arlette. "Ed," she greeted, smiling. Her glimmering curls were pinned up attractively, and her purple gown looked stunning on her pale form. "Go get Cate ready," Ed said, before adding, "Please,"
"As my prince commands," she mocked, curtseying and leaving. Ed chuckled, before turning and heading to his father's solar. "Come in," his father called, and Ed walked into the study.
"Mother says that they shall be here soon," he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe.
Robb Stark sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Blasted woman," he said under his breath. Looking up, he added, "I love her anyway. Go get your sister,"
"Which one?" Ed asked. "All three," Robb said, before ushering his son out.
"Cate. You are to meet your future household. You should at least look... Decent." Ed could hear the sharp edge in the voice, and he knew that a fight would start soon.
"It's not like they care about me. They just pretend."
A loud gasp.
"You should have some respect!"
Ed started jogging, and found Thea looking aghast in a blue dress, standing across from Cate, who was wearing a simple green gown. "Hello dear sisters," Ed said, beaming at them. "You both look lovely." He took each of their arms, effectively separating the sisters.
Thea opened her plump mouth to say something, but he quickly inquired, "Where is dear Arlette?"
Arlette suddenly appeared, stepping from a hallway. Her face was a little flushed, and her skirt a little crinkled. "Here Ed! Sorry, got lost,"
Ed almost scoffed, but Arlette sent him a meaningful look, so he kept his mouth shut. She fixed her skirt, and in a moment, she looked perfectly composed.
The four of them made their way to the courtyard with minimal bickering, and they stood in our designated spots. Rorin stood a few feet behind Ed, flirting with Arlette.
"Honestly Princess, if you weren't so... High rank, I might-" Ed sent him a glare, which quickly shut him up.
Then, the trampling of horses quickly caught everyone's attention. Everybody looked up and saw the large entourage starting over the hill. The Starks fixed their posture, but it was another ten minutes until she rode into the gate.
Ed didn't really remember Juliana Lolliston, as she had left when he was a babe to rule the Westerlands. She was beautiful, with softly curling blond hair and barely a wrinkle. When she dismounted, she smiled and immediately hugged her son, Rorin. She then turned to her friend, Annablyth, but Ed wasn't paying attention.
His eyes were on the girl that followed.
Her golden hair was slightly wind blown, and her pale face flushed. Her horse was a strong chestnut mare, and she wore a blue and copper riding gown. Even from his position on the ground, Ed could see that her eyes were a dark blue.
This was Dimia Lolliston.
Dimia dismounted like a true rider, like Cate might, and walked up. Juliana stood back and put a hand on her daughter, beaming. "Your Graces, I would like you to meet my daughter, Dimia,"
Dimia curtseying before saying, "It is an honour." Her voice was like twinkling bells.
Ed grew up knowing that he would marry Dimia. He knew of their story, of how Daenerys appointed them Wardens of the West. Juliana had rebuilt Casterly Rock, remaining it Lolliston Perch after their new crest; a bronze bird on a field of blue. He also knew that Juliana had remarried to a Lannister to secure her claim of the Westerlands. Lancel, he believed. Together they had twins, Tya and Loren, ten. He could see them next to their father, in the background. The trio were all golden haired, but Tya had her mother's eyes.
"This is my boy, Eddard," Robb said, clenching his hand on his son's shoulder, bringing him out of his thoughts. He put on his most dazzling smile and said, "The honour is all mine, my lady,"
Dimia did not seemed bedazzled.
Instead, her eyes only held amusement. "Yes," she murmured. Robb went on the introduce Catelyn, Thea, and Arlette before commanding servants to show the guests to their rooms.
Annablyth personally escorted Juliana, and they were already laughing like old times. Sighing, Ed watched as his betrothed made her way inside.
Was it just me, or did her hips purposely sway a little too much?