Note: I don't own Game of Thrones. This is just a fanfic of it :)

Synopsis: "Have I ever told you two that you look cute together?" she asked, dazed, a painful bump already forming on her forehead "Yes," Loras grinned amusedly. "Multiple times," Renly said, playfully rolling his eyes. "Good" she nodded seriously, "NOW KISS!". A not quite mentally sound SI/OC Loras and Renly shipper is reincarnated into Game of Thrones as Sansa Stark's twin sister.

Fandom: Game of Thrones

Rating: T

Genre: Family, Humor

Language: English

Crossover: no

Category: TV Show

Prologue

Deep in the halls of Winterfell Castle, the majestic seat of House Stark's power, rulers of the North for 8000 years, a battle commences.

No, not the one involving blades of steel, armies and armour, but of a different kind, though just as dangerous, just as painful, and just as important. A battle filled with pain, blood, sweat, and tears. This was the battle of the birthing bed, where the new Lady Stark, young and radiant with her vibrant red hair and Tully blue eyes, was birthing her second child, and also unexpectedly and still currently unknown to everyone, her third.

Maids flurry in and out the room, bringing in fresh rags and buckets of warm water, the maester and various midwives surrounded the bed where she laid, ensuring everything was going on fine and nothing went wrong in the birthing process.

Just waiting outside the room was a frantic Lord Eddard Stark, this being his first time to witness his wife give birth to a child having been out in war and therefore not present for the birth of their firstborn, Robb. Having been sternly ordered to remove himself from within the birthing chambers and instead instructed to wait outside to accompany his two young sons of barely 4 namedays, to observe propriety, he had no idea of what was happening from within, apart from his wife's loud cries of pain and the seemingly endless piles of clothes stained with blood.

Finally after hours of worried waiting, he finally heard the cries of a child, and the rejoicing of those within. Not able to wait any longer, he hurriedly entered the chambers, only to be shooed out once more.

"Patience m'lord, there is still another child left." an elderly midwife he believed to be called Beth and whom he faintly recalls to also have been present to assist his own mother in birthing his two younger siblings, blocked his way, shielding him from the sight of his still laboring wife who was far too preoccupied with birthing their unexpected but very welcome addition, to notice his presence in the birthing chamber.

Finally after a few more minutes, another cry was heard, "The gods have blessed the North," he overheard two maids excitedly whispering to each other on their way out of the chambers, carrying the last of the bloodied cloth and water.

His two sons clung excitedly to his sides, almost vibrating out of their skin to meet their new siblings. Ned was the same, but hid it better.

At last, they were allowed into the birthing chambers where his wife laid, tired but awake. Holding two tightly swaddled bundles on each hand. Propped up in pillows she deemed them all a tired but brilliant smile. "Two daughters, my lord." she told him, happy and not even finding the will to be angry at the presence of the bastard who immediately rushed to her bedside with her Robb the second the doors opened. Both children were eyeing the babes in awe.

Ned leaned in to kiss her, making Robb scrunch up his nose in distaste of which she inwardly laughed at. Jon was too fascinated with the infants to care.

"You must be tired, my lady," Ned said, staring starry eyed at his twin daughters. "You have given me two precious daughters."

With that, the underlying worry deep within her that she hadn't even realized existed faded away, and she felt the love that she had been beginning to feel for her husband grow even more. Most lords would scoff at the idea of daughters, preferring that of a son. But, she could see that her husband didn't care. He would love and care for their daughters just the same, and never dismiss them or see them as lesser than their male siblings. This made her smile even wider, and shifted them more so her husband and the boys could get a better view.

"They look wrinkly."

"They look small."

Robb and Jon respectively said in unison. Catelyn gave Robb a soft but fond glare and ignored Jon altogether, still not quite accepting his presence, serving as a constant reminder of her husband's unfaithfulness. She understood that when men were in war, they would sometimes give in to their urges seeing as they were never quite sure if they would still be able to live and survive the next day, and that she and her husband barely knew each other when they were first wed, seeing as she was once betrothed to his brother, Brandon, and would have wed him instead had he not been killed by the mad king; but it was still a difficult pill for her to swallow.

She had once wept and wished that Brandon was still alive, for Catelyn had fancied herself to be in love with him. Now, she knew that she didn't really love him, but instead loved the idea that she had formed of him and of them both together. She hadn't really known him, apart from the one she imagined him to be, from the various tales and gossip she heard of him. She couldn't imagine herself to be with anyone else other than her Ned. Who was quiet, dutiful, and honorable, as well as kind and gentle, especially with her. The one she slowly but surely fell in love with through the years that they have spent together.

"What would you like to name them?" her husband asked her, snapping her out of her thoughts.

Looking at the two peacefully sleeping infants, she made her decision.

"I present Sansa Stark, my lord, our first-born daughter," she said, slightly lifting the babe on her right, implying for her husband to take her, which she knew he did eagerly. Others might not be able to tell as her husband was not one to be overly expressive, but she could see it in the brightness of his eyes, the slight upturn of his lips, and how quickly he swiped the newborn off her arm, cradling the small figure gently.

Their first daughter took after her in appearance, inheriting the Tully coloring, just like their eldest, Robb. But, their second daughter had inherited the Stark's traditionally dark hair, though from what she had a slight glimpse of earlier, their youngest had gotten her blue eyes.

Cradling their youngest with both hands, she had made her decision. "And Lyarra Stark, for our second daughter."

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