Their story was much different from their fore-bearers. They were not the Laughing Star of Starfall or the Quiet Wolf of Winterfell.
With Rickon and Robin slowly growing into the the roles they were meant to play, she knew she had to fall back into the role she was more than eager to play when she was a stupid naive girl who wanted to marry her prince. And it was on Arya's suggestion that she marry the Sword of the Morning.
Never did she believe that her little sister would be married and happy about it. Lord Gendry Baratheon was undeniably handsome with a strong jaw and a muscled body from years of labour. They both looked into each other's eyes as if they had known one another their whole lives.
Sansa could not deny that her betrothed Edrick Dayne was very handsome. But each time she stared at his pale blond hair, she was reminded of another person with that same coloured hair who had promised to never hurt her. It was not until she looked into his eyes, truly looked, that she realized that just how beautifully honest they were. Sansa wed Lord Edrick Dayne in the sept of her home, for it is and was the last place she would be Sansa Stark. Her maiden's cloak of grey and white is then covered with one of lavender and white.
As the bedding is called, she feels terrified. Joffrey once sought to humiliate her like that in King's Landing. But this is in the name of tradition. They both are placed in the room, both of them awkwardly attempting to cover their nakedness. As Edrick comes closer to the bed, she becomes scared. But this is well within a lord, and more importantly, her lord husband's rights. Instead, he takes out the bottle of Dornish red beside them and spills it on the pure white sheets. "I won't bed you unless you want to be bedded" he replies. She is grateful for that.
When they arrive at Starfall, they are greeted by the castellan, Aerion Sand. Edrick tells her that Aerion is a Dayne bastard with his silvery ash blond hair and purple eyes. He was rather handsome for a bastard. As is her cousin, whom for so long she had treated as the bastard she and her mother were led to believe. They almost never bed one another for nearly half a year.
When she abruptly asks him if he has a paramour, he vehemently shakes his head. "I gave you my honour that I would not take a paramour nor father a bastard" he said. Sansa then feels so entranced by his simple and honest word. He is so much like Father, she thinks. A good honest man, but Westeros was not made for honest men. And honest men are a dying breed. She can't help but note that. "Then ... bed me." she says as bluntly as she can. It is strange, awkward. She had heard so many times from Randa, now Myranda Hardyng, how bedding a man can be pleasurable. But Edrick is not Harry the Heir, who had asked her to do certain things to him with certain parts of her body. Edrick never demanded anything of her. She had expected but did not feel rough hands, squeezing, pinching, weighing her teats as if they were fruit. Instead, he gently passed his own smooth hands throughout her body, placing gentle kisses in every piece of bare skin. It ached the first time, but then felt an undeniable pleasure that had left her moaning, groaning and screaming out his name. Edrick, not Ned. She could never bring herself to call him that. That was her father's name and will always be her father's name.
Her greatest joy came over nine months later in the form of a baby boy, whom Edrick decided to name after the Lightning Lord he squired for. Beric Dayne had smoky blue eyes and hair the color of red-gold. Her cries, laughs and tears are that of joy which she had not experienced in such a long time. Edrick is over the joy happy. She asks if it is because that he is a boy. Instead he says, "he looks so tiny, its unbearable" He then turned meek and said, "I'm afraid I might drop him." She then smiles and tells him how to hold baby Beric as the maester shown her. Edrick's blue/purple eyes are then filled to the brim with tears as his baby boy tries to grab his long blond locks of hair.
Rickon, Robin, Prince Trystane and his wife, and Arya and her husband come to visit her. All of whom had had their own heirs. Rickon and Robin had finally cut their ridiculously long hair and were coming to look like strong strapping handsome men. Yet, they were stark contrasts to one another: Robin was rather lithe whereas Rickon was broad. Their Tully blue eyes shining greatly at the hope their own sons would come to share in the friendship they had come to forge.
Of his three boys with Lady Lyanna Mormont, Harwin and Qhorin were the liveliest of them. Yoren was a rather quiet babe. Robin's marriage to Lady Cynthea was fruitful with triplets of his own, Colmar, Gylbert and Axell Arryn. She found it funny that he named his heir after the man who he claimed was the most annoying person ever.
Little Jonothor Baratheon was the perfect mix of Baratheon and Stark. Hair as dark as a crow's wing and eyes that shined like the grey steel of a blade. Arya was beginning to glow with the start of her next pregnancy. Her husband Gendry is grinning and jesting with Edrick about something. That was expected though as both of them served under the Lightning Lord.
Princess Myrcella Martell appears to be a shadow of herself. Even with that hideous scar on her face, she is still beautiful with her Lannister blonde hair and emerald green eyes. But those eyes radiated a sadness that could not be removed; not since the day that her own cruel mother had taken the life of her youngest son. Myrcella tells her that she sees much of her brother in little Ulrich and Yorich Martell. The twin boys bore beautiful dusky skin and straight dark hair but their mother's emerald green eyes. She cannot even mention her sweet brother's name without turning sad.
Sansa barely preys to the Seven as much as she used to. Instead, she finds solace in the pale stony-faced weirwood. Starfall does not have a true godswood but now she understands the solace, the peace and tranquility of it. How is it that being in the most south of the Seven Kingdoms does she feel more like a woman of the North; a Stark of Winterfell. When Beric had completed his first nameday, she takes him before the heart tree. "These were the gods that my father prayed to every day. The blood of the First Men is strong in your veins, little one." she gently whispers to her growing child. As Beric lets out a squeal of delight, reaching a hand to the weirwood's face, a small gust of wind swept by. They are answering her, she thinks.
If Edrick were over-the-moon happy of Beric's birth then he was much happier with the birth of the twins. Their girl, Arra is absolutely lively and happy. She has an aura that simply radiates happiness and strength. She was the one who named their daughter; named in honor of the sister whom she once loathed when they were children. A girl who she constantly reprimanded for being so unladylike and horrid. Now, she can't think of anyone else she wants her daughter to be like.
It is their second boy who raises her attention. Aerion, named after the castellan who's friendship her husband treasured. Little Aerion who did not scream nor wail at the top of his little lungs. His thick silvery hair soft and plush as a feather and his lively lilac eyes curiously roaming around. His curious eyes gazing at their own with such astonishment and curiosity. Eyes which reminded her of the hard stern gaze of her father and her king. How is it that her youngest seem to look and remind her of the people who she had not bothered with when she was stupid and naive girl?
The children are growing so fast. Beric grows looking more like a lord with his aquiline nose, high cheekbones, strong jaw, and red gold hair that glistens under the Dornish sun, as if his hair would be set ablaze. A smile often plastered on his face as he rides his sand steed. A smile which reminds her so much of her beloved elder brother; Robb Stark the King in the North. Arra was a willful and playful girl who bore a kind and gentle soul. Aerion was not as wild-spirited as his twin but much more reserved and calm. Quick, lithe lean and graceful as swordsmanship and horse-riding came more easy to him than his elder brother and sister. He is growing into a tall, lean and comely lad. Sweet little Serena was beginning to blossom into a beautiful young lady with her vivacious purple eyes and silver-blond hair shining like beaten gold. Daemon, her youngest babe, a sweet active little wolf-pup who never wanted to be left out of her sight. And she promised that she wouldn't. For that must have been how Rickon felt all those years ago.
Edrick has already asked for Lord Ryam Dondarrion to foster his son once he reaches proper age. She has no qualms against it, as he simply wants to honor the Lightning Lord even in death. Prince Trystane has mentioned that he would like to broker a betrothal between Arra and Ulrich. Aerion is to be sent to King's Landing as a page to Jon and his heir, Prince Aemon.
Their story was much different from their fore-bearers. They were not the Laughing Star of Starfall or the Quiet Wolf of Winterfell. She could not tell if this was the story and life that Eddard Stark and Ashara Dayne were meant to have. But it is much better than anything she could have hoped for.