He wrapped his arm around her waist and savoured the feel of her beneath his hand. Her body seemed to melt beneath his touch, moulding itself to his touch and her lips seemed to be made especially for him. She had kissed him three times now. The first time was at Harrenhall. The second time on the ship in the bay of crabs. The third, last night, had filled him with a fire he didn't know he had in him. Is this the wolf blood he wondered? Is this what Brandon felt like everyday?

He looked down at her sleeping face and smiled. Her mouth was opened slightly and her nose was scrunched up tightly. Her raven black hair framed her pretty face and he wondered what she saw him in.

Eddard Stark was plain, long faced and boring. Ashara Dayne was beautiful, funny and confident; in short everything that Ned was not. She stirred in her sleep and pushed her head closer into his chest, burrowing deeper into the furs they shared. Next to the campfire, Albar stood and shook out his limbs. The moon had reached it's zenith, meaning it was Ned's turn to take watch. He gently extracted himself from Ashara's grasp and slipped out of the furs.

He wandered across to where Albar stood watch and loosened his sword in his scabbard.

"You see anything?" He asked the grizzled guard.

"No. The clansmen have been quiet lately. I'll take a quick piss and then go to sleep."

"Sure."

Albar wandered away into the trees to make water and Eddard took his place, perched on the stone next to the campfire. He pulled his sword from his scabbard and rested it on his knees. He looked up and watched the stars. His thoughts were interrupted by a sound from the bushes in which Albar had disappeared.

"Albar?" He called out softly, getting to his feet and creeping forward. The lack of response chilled him to his bone. "Albar?" He called louder.

A shape flew out of the bushes and landed in front of him with a wet splat. He looked down to see Albar's head, eyes glassy. His head snapped up and he yelled half in shock, half in warning.

A looming shape charged out of the bushes yelling a war cry. Ned brought his sword up and blocked the clansmen's axe. Unexpectedly, the clansmen struck out with a fist that caught Ned on the side of the head, and he stumbled back, stars flashing in his vision.

Denys, the other Vale guardsman saved his life, seeming to appear from nowhere and pushing the clansman back. Ned shook his head and helped Denys push the man back, when two more clansmen emerged from the bushes. Ned's superior weaponry and training soon proved and both of them were lying dead on the end of Ned's blade. He went to help Denys when he was interrupted by a scream from behind him, a high pitched woman's scream. Ashara! He thought with worry as he turned around to see a clansmen dragging her by her hair.

His blood rushed and he flew across the ground to slam into the clansman. They grappled on the floor and in the madness Ned had lost his sword. He managed to get on top of the man and punched him in the face. He felt the man's nose crunch beneath the impact and blood began pouring from it. He didn't stop though, and kept punching and punching and punching and punching until all that was left of the man's face was a jumbled mess of blood and flesh and bone.

Panting with exertion he turned to Ashara. "Are you alright?" he asked. She stared at him with shock. Ned felt light headed suddenly and Ashara rushed over. "Ned, you've been stabbed!"

He looked down in bewilderment to see a vicious dirk sticking out of his side. "Oh," He said, "So I have."

That was the last he remembered before the darkness overtook him.

When he came to, days later, he found himself in a darkened room, a cool coth wiping his head. He groaned at the pain that blossomed in his side when he moved. "Ned?" A voice said and Ashara's beautiful face filled his vision. "You're awake!" She exclaimed as she hugged him tight. He groaned in discomfort as her arms struck where he had been stabbed. "Oh!" She said as she pulled back realising what she had done. "I'm so sorry!"

"Where… are we?"

"Coldwater. Denys has gone to get us a boat. He should be back soon."

"Ashara you have to go home now."

She smiled at him, amused. "Haven't we already had this argument?"

He frowned at her, why did she have to insist on being so difficult all the time. "You are not coming with me." He asserted. "I will not let you on the boat."

"Oh really? And who's going to stop me?"

"I will."

She lifted her finger and placed it right where he had been stabbed, pushing down with the lightest pressure. He squirmed in discomfort.

"Exactly," She said, "You're not going to have much luck stopping me with that wound."

"Ashara," Ned growled at her, "I'm not letting you come with me any further."

"Whatever Ned" She said dismissively as she got up to get him a cup of water. She held the cup to his lips and he drank deeply, quenching his parched throat.

"Why must you be so difficult all of the time?" He asked as he scowled at her.

She laughed at him. "I'm difficult? Your quite difficult yourself you know."

He had to scare her away he decided, that was the only way she would go.

"Ashara it's going to be dangerous crossing the bite at this-"

"Any more dangerous than wandering the mountains of the moon with you getting attacked by savage clansmen?"

"Ashara you-"

"Ned, I've told you once and I'll tell you again. I love you and I fully intend to stick by you until the end."

Gods forgive me, Ned thought as he spoke. "Well I don't love you." He snapped back.

She looked at him her eyebrow raised in query and lent forward. Her lips met his again and his resistance crumbled beneath the touch of her soft lips. And then, as quick as they were there they were gone again and Ned opened his eyes to see an amused Ashara looking down at him.

"An admirable effort Lord Stark. You weren't a very good liar when I first met you and you haven't improved since. I'm coming with you and that's the end of the story."

With a note of finality she got up and left the room, leaving him to stew on the stubborn, annoying woman whose lips were as soft as the sky.