Starfall, Dorne (277 A.C.
It's a cold, beautiful evening in Dorne. Strong winds from the Summer Sea blow inland following the Torrentine. The waters are raging, lapping at the shore like a hungry maw trying to devour the land. There's a storm coming in from the sea. The howling winds mask the shrill scream coming from within the walls of Starfall.
"Push, Lady Ashara!"
A woman lays on a bed of beautiful silks, screaming as she tries to push a young babe out of her. Her dark hair is disheveled and her purple eyes are filled with pain and excitement. She had been in labor since the storm had begun in the Summer Sea. She is being tended by several maids, holding her hand and wiping her face with a cloth. The woman takes a few deep breaths then continues to push.
"That's it my lady," one of her maids encouraged. "I can see its head!"
Ashara's eyes gleam at the news. With renewed vigor, she continues pushing, wishing to hold her child in her arms as soon as possible. Outside the storm inches closer. Beyond the castle walls, the smallfolk begin to pray to the Seven Who Are One to protect them from the coming storm.
Inside the castle, two figures stand outside the room where Lady Ashara is giving birth. A man with pale blond hair and dark blue eyes, and a young woman with dark hair and purple eyes. Both of them wait with bated breath.
"It sounds like a boy," the young woman whispered to the man. "What do you think, brother?
"I think it sounds like our sister is being torn apart," the man growled. As if to emphasize the point, Ashara screams again.
The man turns to his younger sister. "Why don't you go in and help her, Allyria? She sounds pained."
Allyria snorts and looks up at her brother with a face that reads Did you actually ask me that? "She's pushing a human being out of her cunt, of course she's pained. And the maids know what they're doing, I'd just be in the way."
Allyria looks up at her brother, who's still staring at the door like he wants to break it down. "Relax, Lord Alric. You look like you're about to shit yourself."
Alric turned to his sister, annoyed. Before he could say anything, they both hear a different cry coming from the bedroom. It was the cry of a baby.
"Bet you a gold dragon it's a boy," said Allyria just as the doors swung open, revealing one of the castle maids. She smiles at the highborn siblings and beckons them in.
The maid leads them to their sister, who is currently holding her child in her arms. With a tired smile, Ashara shows the dark-haired babe to her siblings. "It's a boy," she whispers happily.
The siblings grin at the news, Alric, ignoring Allyria's "I told you so." The lord approaches his sister and nephew. Placing a hand on the boy's own small one, he watches as the baby opens it's eyes and looks at him.
The boy's gaze felt odd. He looked at Alric with his beautiful purple eyes with flecks of sea-green. Alric felt like the boy was studying him. His gaze felt much older than it should be. Shaking his head and turning to Ashara, Alric asked what the child's name would be.
Ashara looked down at her son. She smiled giddily as the boy gurgled happily at the sight of her. She was silent for a moment before announcing, "Arthos. His name is Arthos."
Alric smiled down at the boy. "A fine name. Arthos Sand. He will serve House Dayne well."
"No," Ashara said, her voice steely. "Not Sand."
Alric stared at her, confused. All noble bastards born in Dorne were named Sand. And since Ashara was not married, the her son was a bastard by law. Alric turned to Allyria with eyebrows raised. The youngest Dayne shrugged and looked at her sister I confusion. "What do you mean, Ashara?"
"He's not a Sand," Ashara said. "He's a Stark. Arthos Stark, son of Brandon Stark, heir to Winterfell."
Ashara looked both her siblings in the eye before continuing. "My husband."
Outside the commonfolk confused the cry of rage as part of the raging storm battering down on their homes.
Asshai, Essos (same time)
A red priestess sits by the fire, praying to the Lord of Light to guide her. She stares into the flames for hours, awaiting a sign from her great god. Just as she is about to retire for the day and continue later in the night, an image flickers into view.
The priestesses eyes widen in surprise. She stares harder into the flame. There it is again! she thinks to herself. What is that…?
Suddenly, the priestess gasps and stands up so quickly she nearly topples the fire. She steadies herself and takes a deep breath. She hikes up her long, flowing, red robes and makes her way into the red temple.
I must go west at once.
Beyond the Wall (same time)
Freezing winds blow through the ruins of an old castle half-buried in snow and ice. Upon the highest point, sat on a frozen throne is a humanoid figure. Its skin as blue as the ice where it sits, with sharp protrusions in the shape of a crown on its head. Its eyes as bright blue as the cold sky, look out into the distance. Seeing far beyond the land of always winter, as far south as south goes.
It smiles.
