EXOKaiKokoBop: Ashara is a very important part of this story and Orin's journey through it, so you will see more of her.

sexybutcreepy: Thank you, You'll find that out in this chapter.

Dipsyy: To get Dawn you have to be a knight and a Dayne, which Orin is neither. But stick around, the sword is very important in future chapters for Orin.

C.E.W: Thanks for the correction, I fixed Orin's age to 17 so that it matches the timeline in the story. I didn't want to have Ned come down to Kings Landing before his appointment, and I wanted to insert Orin straight into the story rather then wait two years.

To everyone else who may have a question, feel free to ask, any requests or suggestions are also welcome, and if not, hopefully you enjoy the rest of the story.

Chapter 3

Orin felt free as he rode his horse down the road. Clear sky above him, open fields far bigger then anything back home, he was seeing new places for the first time and taking it all in. It wasn't as warm here then it was in Dorne, but still a wonder to see.

He'd heard many stories of how vastly disappointing Kings Landing and the lands would be, but so far, he'd yet to experience that. He supposed that was just because of the bad blood between Dorne and the capital, but Orin wouldn't be blinded by that. Today he would see all the legendary things he'd read about growing up. The throne his uncle once guarded, the castle Aegon lived in, the Great Sept, he'd see it all, by the Hands invitation.

Turning towards his mother, who rode quietly beside him, he wondered about her past. It'd been a quiet two-week travel after he'd broken her trust in Starfall, and he had hoped to move past it before they arrived.

Quite frankly he was surprised she invited him to the capital. Nothing would have been more degrading then losing the chance at coming because of a tavern scrap with four drunk men.

Still, looking past his misstep back home, it was a little curious for a Dornish family to get an invite from the Hand of the king.

"How'd you know him?" Orin finally asked. They were far enough back from their guards to speak freely.

"Know who?" Ashara replied, playing coy.

"I think you know who I mean."

His mother turned to him with a knowing look. "I never assume anything, people in my position don't last very long when they do."

"You're in your position because you're smart," Orin countered. "Starfall is yours for good reason."

Ashara laughed. "Flattery won't make up for what you did."

"I suppose not. Still, that doesn't answer my question."

Her past had been a sore subject, but seeing as how it was inevitable to be brought up coming to a place like Kings Landing, Orin suspected it was a good enough reason to dig into the past.

And more specifically, his.

"Lord Eddard Stark is an old friend," His mother started, looking back towards the road. "I never thought to see him again, being the Warden of the North, and us being so south. Different lives with different responsibilities."

It wasn't hard to know of Eddard Stark's name. Robert's Rebellion had etched his name into every story kids would grow up on, one of the great men who rebelled against the Mad King.

His honor and history was practically unrivaled. A great man to so many, a proud one, yet the man who killed his uncle.

It was the only thing he thought of reading the stories as a child. This warrior, this honorable person, had beaten the greatest swordsman ever known and deprived him of ever meeting his family.

He couldn't hate a man he'd never met. He just wasn't sure how he'd react meeting the man who brought so much pain to his mother.

"Friend?" Orin repeated. It was an odd term to use for someone like that. "He killed my uncle."

"He did."

"How can you consider him a friend then?" He asked, a bit puzzled by the notion.

His mother turned to him swiftly, looking at him with sadness and anger all in one. "Tell me something Orin, if you made a vow to protect someone no matter the cost, and another made a vow to kill that person because of the harm and tragedy they brought to their family, what would you do? Is there still a good man and bad one? Who decides when their vow is more important then another."

Orin did not have an answer as his mother continued.

"Lord Stark fought to avenge his family, and Arthur fought protecting the family that caused that turmoil. There was no right and wrong. They fought believing in their cause. When do we get to decide what a man chooses to believe in?"

Her words rang through him as they continued towards the castle. He'd always thought the stories were simple. There were bad men, and good, and good prevailed and they would be the ones who many looked up to and praised.

It was simple to see it that way, it's the way he viewed it all his life. Yet hearing his mother speak about who decides what's right and wrong, it changed things.

Lord Stark did not murder his uncle. They fought on opposite sides, man to man, swords in their hands. How could he possibly condone a man for fighting for his family?

Given the chance, he'd do the same for his mother.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd been in the capital. Everything felt so strange and foreign as Ashara walked around taking it all in. It was odd to see the Direwolf sigil hanging around at the celebration for Ned's newest appointment.

Incredible things had happened in her life, but never did she think she'd see the day of Eddark Stark becoming Hand to the king. Perhaps it made some sense, Ashara did know of Ned and Roberts friendship growing up.

She got to witness it firsthand at the tourney of Harrenhal all those years ago, the tourney that changed everyone's life in the realm.

Watching her son from afar, it changed hers more then she thought possible.

It was a curious thing to watch as her son took in the sights and spectacles of Kings Landing. To the unsuspecting eye, she could agree that the capital had a certain appeal to it. Although knowing the horrors to come from it, she could never imagine living here.

Turning towards the Red Keep, Ashara's eyes wavered slightly, remembering the story of Brandon's death. She couldn't imagine a crueler way to die, then watching a son strangle himself to death trying to save his dying father.

She wondered if Arthur ever questioned his oath protecting a man that could be capable of such cruelty. Did her brother ever wonder if he made the right choice? Did he ever think, this is where it ends?

The Mad King had been responsible for taking away her sons father, in this very city, and that fact alone made her question why she had even come in the first place.

She knew the answer; in fact, she spotted it walking towards her as the festivities carried on. It'd been 15 long years, but she could still see the boy she fell in love with all those years ago.

Ned Stark still looked the same as he did all those years ago. Dressed in clothing meant for the harsh winters in the north, and not the cool summer breeze in the south, Ashara wondered how deep that Northern stubbornness truly went. His hair a bit longer, and a couple scars littered across the face, but still Ned Stark. His kind eyes gave him away.

"My Lady," Ned smiled kindly at her.

"Lord Stark," She returned, feeling herself smile like she hadn't in years. She knew it was foolish to even think upon the notion, with Ned being married, and she having a son, but Ashara would always wonder what if. "Thank you for the invitation, it was very kind."

Ned smiled, one of his few since he'd been in the capital. "I did not expect for you to come, considering."

"Yes well I made a promise to you many years ago," Ashara admitted. Her eyes drifted off to her son, standing a few yards behind Ned's back.

Ned's eyes widened at her words, knowing what it meant. "Does he…"

"Know? No," She said sternly. "And I plan on keeping it that way."

Ned looked disappointed. "He should know Ashara, even just to know his true father."

"You don't think I contemplate that every waking day before I see him. That today is the day I tell my son that I robbed him of his name, his titles, and his right to know his father? I made a choice Ned to make my son carry on thinking his father died bravely in the war and be remembered that way, then the horrible nightmares I endured of imagining Brandon's body in that throne room. I have to live with that, right or wrong. All I ask is that you respect that."

"He's my nephew."

"He is," Ashara's face softened at his sad tone. She knew how important family was to Starks, especially Ned. "But there are other ways to be there for him. Like Jon Arryn was for you and Robert."

Thinking hard on it, Ned could only nod. Truth be told, he was a little impatient, just wanting to meet his nephew finally.

"Can I meet him?" Ned asked.

"Of course."

"My Lord," A man interrupted them. Ashara vaguely remembered the man's face but for the life of her, couldn't put a name to it. "The king would like a word."

"Thank you Jory," Ned sent the man off quickly before turning to her. "My Lady, a moment please."

"My Lord," Ashara smiled, watching Ned head off.

Alone again, she wondered how Ned could possibly do it; rule in the place that caused him so much grief. She expected that was one of the qualities she most admired about Ned, his duty to do the right thing.

Yet it reminded her of another person with that same sense of duty, only this one didn't have the calm demeanor Ned had. Each day that passed her son became more like a Stark. It was a wonder she'd been able to keep Orin in check so far for all these years.

He had his fathers hot head, but in moments like this, when people were happy and in a festive mood, all she could see was Ned all those years ago.

They didn't have many parties to celebrate back home, or the type of Lords and Ladies that walked around now, so as she watched her son nearby stare off shyly wondering what to do or where to go, it brought a smile to her face.

She could practically see her baby boy again, lost and confused, needing his mothers help all over again.

"Very handsome boy," A voice broke, startling her. Turning towards it, she was met with a very familiar face and two kings guards flanked on each side. "Although that shouldn't be a surprise coming from a great beauty like yourself."

Cersei Lannister stood proudly smiling towards her as she looked at her knowingly. Ashara hadn't seen her since Harrenhal, but the years had still been kind to her. Like a queen should, she looked regal and beautiful at the same time. She could see why many men were infatuated and women envious of her.

Remembering whom she was talking to, Ashara greeted her properly. "My Queen."

Cersei smiled. "Lady Dayne, how good to see you after so long."

Ashara heard the kind words but felt no warmth come from them. "It has been a long time your grace."

"Truth be told, I did not expect to see any Dornish today, curious that you're here."

Ashara nodded, knowing all to well how rare it was for Dornish to come to the capital. "When the Hand of the King sends an invitation, it's best to accept I would imagine."

"Yes well good of you to come at the Hands request," Cersei stepped closer, a glint in her eyes. "It must be strange, last time you were here one of your dear friends was queen."

The haunting memory of Elia Martell passed through her as she remembered another great horror to come from this wretched place. She could see the queen baiting her, but did her best to nod. She felt just saying her name would break her.

"Great tragedy," Cersei continued. "Still, Dorne did side with the Mad King. So I suppose it could be considered a consequence of war."

Ashara had known the history of the war down to every detail, but knew without a doubt, that the murder of her closest friend and her children was not a consequence of war. It was murder, and one that went unpunished.

Doing her best to compose herself, Ashara smiled. "Well we all can't get to pick and choose who we serve during a time of war, even in the final moments of it. Thankfully, the realm is in peace thanks to the watchful eye of you and your husband."

Cersei smiled at the remark, but did not forget that slight before hand. Turning back towards her earlier sight, she gestured towards the boy. "Your son?"

Turning, Ashara spotted Orin still standing where she'd left him, looking on quietly. "Yes."

"If I hadn't met Lord Starks bastard at Winterfell not to long ago, I swear I would imagine that to be him," Cersei remarked. She turned back, hoping to get her off guard. "It was quite obvious back then for the torch you held for him. Shame nothing came of it."

"I suppose we share that it common," Ashara shot back, her anger starting to creep up. "Prince Rhaegar was very handsome, still King Robert definitely has an appeal. You must have thought so to share three children with him."

Cersei's smile dropped as she eyed her carefully. "His name?"

"Orin Sand," Ashara replied, a small smile creeping up at her son's name.

"Sand," Cersei repeated. Ashara can practically here the disdain in her voice. "How unfortunate that a great family like House Dayne's future is lost because of a bastard boy. Still, you must have great love for the boy to keep him so close in court."

"His name does not change the love I have for him," Ashara said truthfully. She hated the way people looked at them in this place, but did her best to ignore it. "He isn't a bastard in my eyes, he's my son."

"Of course," Cersei smiled, turning back towards him. "And his father?"

"Dead," She answered tightly.

"How terrible." Her remark held no remorse as Cersei gave her one last look. "Do enjoy your stay in the capital Lady Dayne. However brief it is."

"Your Grace."

The queen smiled one last time before continuing on to the next person to torture. However many years past, Cersei Lannister would always remain the same. Her lord father would be proud the way she carried herself, like everyone else was beneath her.

Yes the Lannisters were no friends to Ashara, but alas there was nothing else to do. They were part of the crown now, and she was just thankful that Starfall was so far away from this place and their kind.