Chapter Two: Northbound

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favourited and followed! It means a lot to me. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that as well as the twins, there will be other POVs in the story as well - as evidently, their presence will impact on more than just the people immediately close to them.

That being said, I really hope you enjoy this chapter, and remember that feedback is encouraged and appreciated!

Shaera Targaryen

It was hotter in Sunspear than it had been in Starfall, although Shaera supposed she should have anticipated as such. As the southernmost kingdom in Westeros, Dorne was far from the impending chill of winter - for now, at least. The sun beat down upon Shaera's olive skin, and she was grateful to forsake the heat for the relative coolness of her uncle's halls. Aegon fared even worse in the sun due to his paler colouring, something Shaera had always teased him about.

Little had changed in the castle's halls in the three years since Shaera had last set foot in Sunspear, and she was grateful for the familiarity. The Martell colours and golden sun symbols proudly decorated the walls, and tiles were cool under Shaera's bare feet as she slid her shoes off and cast around for a member of her family.

A shriek resonated through the corridors, and Shaera spun around to see Arianne Martell hurrying toward them, resplendent despite her hurried pace and rustling silks. She threw her arms around Shaera, who was almost a good head taller than her cousin. Not that it was hard, considering Arianne was scarcely more than five feet tall.

"I am so pleased to see you both." Arianne's dark eyes darted between them. "Sierra and Alin."

Their false names were a reminder that even here, they were not safe. To all but the Martell family and those they trusted, they were the Dayne cousins. None would deem Arianne's affection misplaced for dear friends the royal family had known since childhood.

"No embrace for me, Arianne?" Aegon teased. When their cousin obliged him, she shrieked again as he picked her up and spun her around, causing Shaera to roll her eyes despite the smile on her lips.

"We received word that Doran wishes to speak with us, in person."

Arianne's warm expression became more closed at the mention of her father. There was some tension between Doran and his eldest child, although Shaera could not have guessed at the source of it.

"Of course he does." Mischief sparked in her eyes again. "But I think you should see the boys first."

Aegon grinned triumphantly. Whilst Shaera and Arianne were thick as thieves, Aegon was closer with Quentyn - who was only one year their elder - and Trystane. Although Shaera sighed dramatically at his enthusiasm, she personally had to confess that she was thrilled at the idea of seeing her other cousins again.

"Where are they now?"

"Most likely sparring." Arianne tossed back her dark hair. "Trystane believes he can beat Quentyn now."

"I could beat them both," Aegon stated confidently, causing the two young women to exchange looks at his arrogance. Seeing their amusement at his expense, he raised his eyebrows. "What? I'm bigger than both of them."

"Size doesn't equal ability," Arianne chastised, a smirk curving the corners of her lips. "We should see how you fare against the Sand Snakes when they're back in the city."

"The boys will have to do for now." Aegon practically strutted off in search of his cousins, eagerly anticipating the sort of challenge that sparring with Shaera didn't provide. Only once he was gone did Shaera turn her attention back to Arianne.

"Do you know what all of this is about?"

"No." Arianne's lips pressed into a thin line. "Father doesn't tell me much these days. He is distant."

"I'm sorry." Shaera reached for her cousin's arm, but Arianne nimbly avoided the contact by turning on her heel.

"Don't be. You should clean yourself up, I imagine it's been a journey from Starfall."

Doran Martell's gout had worsened over the years of the Targaryen twins' absence. He was confined to a wheelchair for the most part, and it saddened Shaera to see the Prince of Dorne as a shadow of his former self. She did not comment, knowing that the last thing Doran wanted was her pity. He greeted his niece and nephew with subdued warmth, before ushering them into this meeting room so they could commence discussions.

Shaera appreciated that about Doran – he was a frank man, one who was more than happy to get to the point. Displays of affection would only have drawn more suspicion, considering the lie they maintained about Shaera and Aegon being Dayne cousins. Fortunately, Doran was also more than happy to begin the conversation without preamble.

"Jon Arryn is dead."

The words left silence in their wake as Shaera attempted to process what this meant for them, for the realm. Jon Arryn had been Robert Baratheon's Hand. He had not been young when the Usurper had been crowned, yet he had been responsible for maintaining an uneasy peace throughout a realm scarred by war. It was he who had calmed the hot-blooded Martells, who had hungered to avenge Elia's death.

"Who will replace him?" It was Aegon who asked the question that was on Shaera's mind. He stood by the fire, his violet eyes dark as he looked to their uncle.

"Most likely Eddard Stark, Robert's closest friend." Doran drummed his fingers on the arm of his wheelchair. "He lives in Winterfell, far in the North. No doubt if Robert intends to ask him, he will venture there shortly."

"I still don't understand what this has to do with Aegon and I," Shaera admitted. It was news to her that the Hand was dead, yet why had that been so important that Doran had summoned them to Sunspear? Certainly, a raven would have been sufficient to carry such tidings.

Shaera tried to remember what she knew of Lord Stark. Eddard had argued with Robert over the slaughter of Rhaenys and the twin babes they had passed off as herself and Aegon. He had believed the murders horrific and unnecessary. He was a man of honour, but being less cruel than Tywin and less violent than Robert did not equate to being a good man.

"We have waited many years for things to change in the realm," Doran's voice was slow, careful, "Jon Arryn's death is such a change. Lord Stark was more sympathetic when he believed that you and your brother had been slaughtered alongside Rhaenys."

Aegon shook his head fervently. "He would never side with us over the Usurper."

"Perhaps not, but this is the opportunity to begin making wise alliances." Doran's gaze shifted to Shaera. "It is time Alin and Sierra Dayne ventured North, to seek out a potential husband for Sierra in Eddard's eldest son, Robb Stark."

"What?" The word was sharp as a knife as it emerged from between Shaera's lips. So Aegon had in fact been correct when he'd made the assumption that their uncle could be summoning them to find her a husband. "No."

She would become Queen of Westeros, and she knew that it was vital she marry an important man. However she felt that this would be a waste, throwing her to the Starks just to see if they could gain their allegiance. What if it backfired on them, and they murdered Shaera in her sleep upon discovering that she was a lost Targaryen princess?

"It is a facade, nothing more," Doran assured her. Although Shaera said nothing, the tension in her shoulders eased somewhat.

"What is our real purpose there?" Aegon inquired, folding his arms over his chest.

"It is time for you to find some allies in the changing political climate." Doran looked between the twins. "Even if the Starks should refuse such a match - which I believe they will - the idea is that you will begin to asses who could support you when you go to claim the throne."

"Which will be when?" Shaera demanded, her irritation and impatience getting the better of her. "We have waited eighteen years so far, just for Jon Arryn to pass. How much longer do we intend to wait?"

"As long as needed." Doran's response was firm, his brow furrowing into a frown. "The Starks and the Lannisters are by no means friends, and I have the feeling that tensions will be caused by Robert wanting to appoint Eddard."

"He's right, Shae." Aegon moved across to his twin, resting a placating hand on her shoulder. She shrugged him off. "The day is closer than ever, but we need to remain patient, or we could ruin everything that our family has worked so hard to achieve. I want to avenge our parents just as much as you."

Shaera lapsed into silence. She could not remember her parents. Her father, murdered at the Trident. Her mother, raped and murdered by Gregor Clegane. Their horrific fates could not go unpunished. If venturing to Winterfell and finally entering the fray was what could make it all change, then Shaera was prepared to give it a chance.

"When do we leave?" The words were quiet, almost frightened. Shaera had spent her entire life in Dorne. Whichever of the seven kingdoms she'd expected to visit, she would not have believed it would be the one furthest from them.

"On the morrow." Doran reached for her hand, and Shaera's shaking fingers clasped his. "I know this is sudden. But I know you are ready for this, both of you. You can spend the evening with your cousins and prepare for the journey to come."

Aegon Targaryen

A feast would have been too conspicuous and raised too many questions, so the Martell family had a smaller dinner instead. As much as Aegon wished to indulge in Dornish wine and blissfully forget the fact that he would be headed for Winterfell on the morrow, he knew it would be an irresponsible decision for the future Hand of the Queen. Instead he had two cups and excused himself to bed, his heart heavy at the knowledge that he would be leaving his uncles and cousins with no idea when he would return.

What would he do in the North? Whilst Shaera was allegedly there to make a match with Robb, Doran had said nothing of Aegon. He supposed he would follow his twin wherever she led. As they had often been told, the rest of Westeros may not recognise Shaera's claim. The Dornish would see her put on the throne, yet many of the great houses would believe Aegon to be the true heir. He had always been told that Shaera would take the throne, and knowing he would be her Hand, had no objections.

Aegon changed and slipped into bed, only to pause at the soft knock at his door. He was not expecting company, although many of the Dornish girls had flirted with him since his arrival in Sunspear. Usually, he'd not mind taking one of them to bed, but tonight was different. Cautious, he sat up.

"Come in."

It was Shaera who entered his room, closing the door quietly behind her. It was hardly uncommon – the twins had shared a bed often in their younger years, when one or the other of them was plagued by nightmares. It hadn't happened since they had been twelve or thirteen, but he could understand that Shaera needed his company tonight. Wordlessly, he shifted across to let her crawl under the blankets beside him.

For a few minutes, there was a comfortable silence broken only by the cicadas outside and occasional distant footsteps. Sunspear was as much their home as Starfall, their blood family as much a part of their lives as their adoptive family. When would they see the Daynes or the Martells again?

"I don't want to leave Dorne," Shaera whispered, and Aegon could feel her shaking as she drew closer to him.

"We must." Aegon was, as always, the voice of reason. He had always been the more practical, the one who used his head while his wilful twin was led by her heart. Although he understood her trepidation, it would do no good to encourage doubt. One of them had to be positive.

"What if I don't want to be Queen?" Shaera's voice trembled, and he could tell that dread enveloped her at the idea that her entire life might have been built up around a future she didn't want. He could sympathise – he had always known he would be her Hand, her heir until she bore a child of her own.

"It is your destiny." Aegon reached across and gripped her hands in his own, linking his fingers through hers. They had always known this day would come. There was no point in denying their fate.

"Will you stand beside me?" Shaera asked, her voice hopeful. Everything was easier when they were together, and he believed the burden of reigning would be no different.

"Always." Aegon kissed the top of his head as he uttered the word he could not have known was a lie.

Eddard Stark

He read over the letter several times as though he could have misjudged its contents. In the years since Robert's Rebellion, he'd had no contact with House Dayne other than returning Dawn to Starfall and informing the family of Arthur's death and his hand in it. Yet the seal on the letter had certainly been that of Lord Adem Dayne. The news he bore was astonishing, although not so much as the heavy weight of Jon Arryn's death.

Adem Dayne proposed that his niece and nephew come to Winterfell in order to foster peace between their uneasy houses. His niece was Sierra Dayne, fathered by Adem's younger brother Azran before his death some years prior. His nephew was the biggest surprise of all - Alin Dayne, the bastard son of Ashara Dayne who had been legitimised by the Prince of Dorne. Adem also hinted at a betrothal between Sierra and Robb, although it was not explicitly stated.

"What is it, my love?" Catelyn was by his side, startling Ned who had been gazing so deeply into the hearth that he hadn't noticed her arrival. She frowned at the piece of paper curled between his fingers. "Another letter?"

"Yes," Ned handed it to her, interested to see what his wife would make of it. "From Lord Dayne."

There were a few moments of quiet, the only sound the crackling of the fire as Catelyn's eyes scanned the paper, before she pressed it back into Ned's hands.

"So Ashara did have a child." Her voice was soft. Not long after the news reached Starfall about Arthur's death, Ashara had thrown herself from the cliffs. No one had known if it was because of her brother, but rumours circulated that Ashara had birthed a bastard child and could not live with the shame of it. Adem made no mention of Alin's father, nor did Ned expect he would - if he even knew.

"It would seem so." Ned's voice was heavy. There had often been speculation that he had fathered Ashara's child, that Jon Snow was that child. Here was proof, in paper and ink, that it was not the case.

"Do you think a match between Robb and the Dayne girl…" Catelyn trailed off. Robb was seventeen now, a man grown. It was certainly time they set about finding him a wife. Yet Ned sensed Catelyn's hesitation in promising him to Sierra Dayne.

"I think we should meet these Dayne children before we can make any decision." Ned knew that it would be a wise move - especially to make peace with House Dayne, with whom he had been tense since Arthur's death at the Tower of Joy. However, he knew little of Lord Dayne's motivations, and even less of Sierra and Alin. He would accept the offer to host them in Winterfell, yet he could promise no more than that.

"In any case, their presence could mend the rift that was caused during Robert's Rebellion," Catelyn suggested.

Ned remained silent. Dorne had been enraged after House Targaryen had fallen - how could he blame them? Elia had been senselessly slaughtered, her toddler daughter Rhaenys and infant twins Aegon and Shaera brutally murdered. It had been a violent and unnecessary act, no matter what Robert or Tywin might say. Jon Arryn had smoothed things over with Dorne, but Jon was dead now. It would be up to Ned to conduct such diplomatic matters, if Robert truly was intent on making him Hand of the King.

"I agree."

As Ned neatly folded the letter and set it aside, he couldn't help but think that the Dayne children being in Winterfell at the same time as the King's company would make things tense. Even though their party would be far smaller than Robert's, suddenly Winterfell felt awfully crowded. He wondered what he would see in their eyes when they looked at him. Accusation? Revulsion? This was a young man who had lost his mother to the cliffs, a young woman whose father had died when she was just a child.

"What happened was in a time of war, Ned." Catelyn's voice was firm. There were some things she held against him, but this was not one of them. "You were trying to save your sister. These Dayne children would have been babes when it happened, they would not blame you."

Blame. Such a fickle word, for blame was thrown around without meaning or reason. It did not matter what Ned had done during Robert's Rebellion - there would always be those who would condemn him for his actions. Perhaps none more so than House Dayne, who had lost the Sword of the Morning to Ned's own blade.

Oberyn Martell

It had been mere hours since the Targaryen twins had departed Sunspear when Oberyn confronted his eldest brother. Although he could understand Doran's perspective, he felt that he could not agree with it. His eldest brother was a man who wanted peace - which was why negotiations with Jon Arryn had not turned to bloodshed. Yet Oberyn's blood burned hot with the desire to avenge the sister they had both lost.

"You think they will be safe in Winterfell when you know the Usurper will be there too?" Oberyn demanded as entered the hall in long, quick strides.

"He does not know what they are." Doran's voice was infuriatingly calm. "He believes they are Dayne children. Even with Aegon's colouring, his eyes alone make it believable that Ashara was his mother."

Oberyn shook his head slowly. In truth, it was not Robert that concerned him - the man had grown fat with wine and food, and cared more about whoring than ruling. It was Robert's scheming wife Cersei and her black-hearted father Tywin who worried him. If they believed any of the Targaryens survived...Oberyn wasn't certain what would happen, but knew it would not be good.

"You sent them straight into the jaws of the lion."

"Yet they are dragons." There was a steely gleam in Doran's eyes as he observed his younger brother. "They have both trained for this for years. With the blade, with their tutors, with their books. They have been prepared, and knew that this moment would one day come."

Oberyn could not disagree with that. The twins had been kept away from their family, lest anyone suspect the truth about their heritage, but Lord Dayne had been gracious and treated them like his own. Yet perhaps it was because they were family that he feared for them. Aegon was strong and commanding, while Shaera was lovely and formidable. They made quite the pair - yet they had never left Dorne.

"What if Lord Stark surprises us and agrees to wed Shaera to Robb?" Oberyn's brow furrowed. "If he discovered the truth then, would his honour permit him to murder her still? One day, the truth about both of them will come to light, and promising her to someone has put her in danger."

"Lord Stark would want better than the niece of a minor lord for his son." Doran waved a dismissive hand. "I have other plans for a marriage arrangement. Rhaegar's brother and sister are still in exile across the Narrow Sea."

Viserys and Daenerys. There were days where Oberyn forgot about that. As the younger siblings of Rhaegar, their claims came after that of the twins - something that troubled Oberyn now that he was aware Doran intended to utilise them. It would do well to help all of the surviving Targaryens, yet Westeros would be ripped from underneath the feet of Aerys's younger children.

"They do not know their niece and nephew live," Oberyn reminded his older brother, "Viserys believes the throne is his birthright, yet the twins are higher in the line of succession. How do you think he would feel, brother, to realise that birthright is being taken from him and he knew nothing of it?"

"That is where Arianne comes in." Doran's lips curved into a faint smile. "She will one day be Princess of Dorne. I have in mind to wed her to Viserys."

"Dorne is not Westeros," Oberyn pointed out, "Dorne is not what Viserys will feel entitled to, not what he would want."

There was a tense silence between the two men. They had only known Viserys as a small child, and had never met Daenerys at all. Whilst Arianne would be a handsome match for Viserys, there was the uneasy realisation that it may not be enough. It had been too dangerous to correspond with the exiled Targaryens about Shaera and Aegon. Would they accept their niece as their future Queen, or would there be another dance of dragons?

Oberyn hoped, for Doran's sake, for all of their sakes, that Viserys would be placated with the offer of being Arianne's consort in Dorne. Daenerys could take up residence in Dragonstone, the home of their ancestors, once they ousted Stannis Baratheon from that particular seat. They were generous offers, but as Oberyn and Doran both knew, there was no offer of a crown.

"We tread dangerous ground, brother," Oberyn said quietly, folding his arms over his chest. "You feign loyal servitude to the Usurper, yet behind his back you plot not only the return of his enemy's siblings, but the return of power to his enemy's children."

"We have played a dangerous game in Dorne for many years." Doran's expression was grim. "This move just happens to be our boldest yet."