Ashara

In the yard below, Ned was talking with Ser Rodrik and Maester Walys.

Ashara watched from her window seat, gently rocking her son to sleep. The guards were going on with their morning drills even though Ser Rodrik wasn't looking over to instruct. The yard ringed with the sound of steel and sword. As she sat there listening to the song of steel, all the memories came flooding back to her. She remembered looking at her brother Arthur from the window of the Palestone Sword at Starfall when she was no more than a little girl of five. Ashara had always loved the view from the Palestone Sword. Even as a boy her brother had been so good at swordfighting, going as far as to best men twice his age. Becoming the Sword of the Morning had been her brother's aim even as a little boy who would make her laugh like no one has ever done. That had became his identity now. The Sword of the Morning, the most famed knight in the entire Seven Kingdoms. Everyone knew him as the stone faced, grim looking white knight but there was more than that to her brother. Sweet brother who used to sit with her and her mother while her mother would fix flowers in her hair. Ashara had always loved white roses in her hair. Her brother always told her that her hair looked like a starry night sky with the roses. Arthur was the one who taught her to ride her first horse. It came to her so vividly that she could almost feel the warm sunlight in her face and the wind blowing against her hair. Her brother would take her to some rides, to race in the beach, to hunt in the woods surrounding Starfall, to fish in the Torentine much to her Septa's distaste, but that had never stopped her brother though.

She remembered how young and happy they all had been. But one by one everything had left, Aaron kept himself occupied with more and more of lordly duties, Arthur became the Sword of the Morning only to leave Starfall, to wear the white cloak and armor to match his white blade. And she was taught in the ways of a noble lady, to sew pretty things, to sing songs and to dance. Within few years she was sent from Starfall to join her brother in King's Landing, as the new and young handmaiden of Princess Elia Martell. "Find the one worthy enough to capture your heart," her father had said the day she went with her brother to take up her new duties. And she did, thought Ashara looking down at her husband, only not where her father had thought her to.

It has been years since Ashara had seen any of her family or visit her home. Winterfell was her home now no matter how much she yearned for the warm days of Starfall, not after she had shared Ned's bed and borne him a son. Ashara looked down at her son. Andrew looked so peaceful and quiet in her arms still asleep even though he had spent the whole night sleeping. So much like her father, Ashara thought caressing her son's nose. Though Andrew is only a babe at her breast it wasn't hard for her to make out the Stark features, the long face and grey eyes which were undoubtedly Ned's. Not only in the looks but in everything else he was Ned's son. Andrew wasn't a noisy baby, he was quiet and calm even when she has to leave him for a bath or to dress. Her hand moved over to fondle with her baby's dark hair. Ashara was so happy that her baby had her hair that at least some part of him was hers. It made her feel proud that some part of her and her family still lived on through her son. Some part of her late father and mother, Lord Eldric and Lady Alysanne who hadn't got the chance to see their first grandchild, to hold him or to kiss him or to show him the tapestries of Gods in the Hall of Gods, some part of Aaron and Allyria and some part of Arthur. Once Ashara had told her brother that one day her son would wield Dawn after him being so disappointed that girls couldn't be the Sword of the Morning. Her brother had laughed at that. "Of course he will be. And I can't wait to see him." Her brother had told her laughing. She had smacked his hand at that but her brother had only laughed even more. Even Arthur was not here to see her son.

She wondered how her life has changed in this last few years. One day she was Lady Ashara Dayne, daughter of Lord Eldric Dayne who danced with Lord Eddard Stark, the second son of Lord Rickard Stark and the next day she was Lady Ashara Stark wife of Lord Eddard Stark. Maybe both their lives changed a lot through the tough times. One day her Ned was the second son of Lord Rickard and the next he was Eddard Stark, the Lord of Winterfell. He had lost his family as well. Ned couldn't see his father as well, he could only get back his bones and his brother's.

Ned was still there in the yard when she looked down. He had so many duties as the Lord of Winterfell now that the Lords of the North were visiting Winterfell to see their liege lord's heir, her son. And it was her duty as the Lady of Winterfell to welcome the arriving lords with her husband and to make sure of the things for the feast but she had been given rest from her duties.

Lord Wyman Manderly was the first one to arrive. He had arrived from White Harbor two days past, traveling by barge and litter, as he was too fat to sit a horse. Even from her distant seat Ashara could see how fat the man really was. With him had come a long tail of retainers: knights, squires, lesser lords and ladies, heralds, musicians, even a juggler, all aglitter with banners and surcoats in what seemed half a hundred colors. Ned had welcomed them to Winterfell from his high stone seat with the direwolves carved into the arms, alone without her. She always used to sit with Ned whenever her husband holds court or receives visitors but now she was too tired to do that. But today she has to receive the Lords and present her son to them. That wouldn't be much of a problem, thought Ashara, she was feeling good today compared to yesterday or the day before.

She understood why Ned was standing in the yard for a long time when she saw the column of men and heard the hooves of the horses. Black banners emblazoned with a white sunburst streamed from the pikes of both the footmen and the horsemen alike. The Karstarks, Ashara knew at once. Being a lady from one of the oldest houses in Westeros she was tutored well enough to name the banners of the lords throughout the Seven Kingdoms.

Lord Rickard Karstark was at the head of the party. From what Ashara had known the Karstarks were kin with the Starks of Winterfell with the blood of the Starks running through their veins. But Rickard Karstark did not look like Stark to Ashara. Lord Rickard was a gaunt and large man, with a thick beard and hair loose past his shoulders. She saw her husband greet Lord Karstark, the words of pleasantries between them was lost for her as she was too far to hear.

"There are more men than I've thought," Ashara said worrying whether the household of Winterfell had made all the preparations to meet the needs of so many people.

"Ah, yes," Old Nan agreed, from the chair where she sat doing her needlework. "In all my life I've never seen a birth celebrated so much like your boy's."

That was true, Ashara knew not only by the men coming to see her son but by the way the household of Winterfell cheered on his birth. The people had cheered so loud that Ashara thought that there was no need to send ravens to the lords, she was certain that the shout alone was enough to get the entire north come here. All for her son.

"I hope that Ned would have made all the necessary preparations for the feast," Ashara sighed leaning back against her chair. She should have gone to make sure that it was done perfect, then she wouldn't worry this much now. Damn you, Ned. Her husband was not the same shy boy she had seen at Harrenhal, he was a hard man now known to the sharp ways of this world yet he still showed his soft and gentle way with her. He never even visited their marriage bed once Maester Walys confirmed that she was with child. Not that she hated his softness for her in truth she loved it more and more but this was unnecessary. She was tired, but not now. She had her strength enough to prepare Winterfell for this feast but Ned had promised to take care of everything and asked her to rest. He left Old Nan with her all day now, to watch over her and and their son and to keep her from being lonely. She would want to ask Maester Walys about it after.

"I remember your Ned's birth and all of his siblings' none was much special as this," Old Nan said never taking her eyes off her knitting.

She was a very old woman, Ashara observed; shrunken and wrinkled, almost blind, too weak to climb stairs, with only a few wisps of white hair left to cover a mottled pink scalp. No one really knew how old she was, but Ned said she'd been called Old Nan even when he was a boy. And it must be real if what Old Nan told about Ned's birth was true.

"Your boy's birth was a most awaited one my lady," Old Nan said with her toothless smile, her needles moving all the while, click click click. "For years Winterfell has stayed so silent as a grave but that all ended with your son's birth." Ashara looked at her son and then at Old Nan.

"You know why they cheered so loud that day at his birth?" Old Nan looked at Andrew. Hope... Ashara was about to answer but the Old Woman beat her to it. "Hope my lady. The hopeful times are back. Your boy's birth is not just a birth, it is the return of hope to the north." Andrew awoke from his sleep and fussed at that. Ashara closed the narrow windows and pushed the strap of her gown down her shoulder to expose her breast. Andrew latched onto her breast easily and Ashara hummed as her son began to feed.

"In terrible times hope is the best way to get over it," Old Nan said going on with her needlework. "And your boy is the hope of the entire north. He is a special boy my lady and he needs a special mother. So lessen your worries, Lord Eddard would do fine."

He would, Ashara believed that. When Andrew finished his feeding she fixed her clothing, rocking him to help him get back to sleep. She stood up from her chair to stretch her legs and went to the door. Ashara opened the door and found Tomard standing guard. She had learned the names of the guards and the household of Winterfell, even if she couldn't manage to learn all of their names she knew the names of most of them in Winterfell.

"My lady," the fat man bowed his head when he saw her.

Ashara greeted him with a nod, rocking her son in her arms. "Could you get Lynora for me?" Ashara asked.

"At once milady," Fat Tom bowed once more before going in search for her hand maiden.

Ashara closed the door once more and returned to her window seat.

"You would want to get ready for the feast my lady," Old Nan said.

"I know," Ashara said.

Her son had fallen asleep again by the time her handmaiden arrived. Lynora rushed in through the door with the foods for her. The poor girl was breathing heavily and reached the table somehow without spilling over the food. Ashara wasn't sure that she should call Lynora a girl. Lynora was of her age maybe a bit older. Her husband had brought her to Winterfell from Winter Town so that Ashara could have the company of the women of her age. Still it made sense for her to call her handmaiden a girl since Ashara is already a wife and a mother now.

"Careful," Ashara advised. "There is no need for rush."

"I'm sorry milady," Lynora said, her pretty freckled face breathless.

"Take Andrew to the cradle," Ashara told the girl. Lynora obeyed at once somewhat calm now. Ashara kissed her son's soft cheeks and gently placed him in her handmaiden's arms, slowly careful enough to not arouse him from his sleep. Her son had the knack of going to sleep in her arms; only in her arms. It would be a disaster for her to put him back to sleep.

Lynora took Andrew to the cradle, all the way looking at her son as if he is some precious thing she had never seen. Girls, Ashara smiled looking at Lynora. When Ashara had been a young girl back at Starfall, she would look at her sister Allyria the same way Lynora looked at her son now. Arthur would accompany her whenever he could. He would be too observed with their sister that Ashara would always think that if he was making sure that Allyria had everything in order.

Allyria would be a girl now with their brother in Starfall. Wylla would be there to help her, the thought gave her a little comfort. She took her midday meal in the chambers, bread fresh from the oven with a roasted duck's breast and two boiled eggs. The food wasn't as spicy or rich in flavours like the foods she had in the south but it was good and gave her strength unlike the fancy southron things.

When she was done with the food Lynora took the plates down to the kitchen. Ashara asked her to come back to help her with the bath. Lynora came back with servants carrying pails of hot water for her bath behind her. When her bath was prepared Lynora came back for her.

Ashara moved near her son's cradle, he was asleep still. Old Nan must have sensed her worries she gave a chuckle. "Go on my lady, I'll watch over the little lord," she said much to Ashara's surprise. Old Nan was a blind woman yet she sensed her worries somehow. She had been a mother too, maybe mothers could sense other mothers' feelings, the girl inside her said.

"Milady the water would turn cold," Lynora urged her. Ashara followed her handmaiden to the bath. She got off her gown and small clothes. Her body hadn't changed much after the birth as she had thought it to. Her old form was still with her with skin soft and smooth as summer silk. The only difference she could see was the stretch marks that had come from the birth and her breasts, tender and full and ripe with milk for Andrew.

"You're beautiful my lady," Lynora said from behind. "Which scent do you prefer today?"

"Rose please," Ashara said getting into the warm water. The warm water soothed her skin better than she had thought, both from the cold and her pains. Lynora added the scented rose oil to the water and soon the steam from the water filled the room with the rich scent of rose. Her handmaiden brushed her long dark hair free of knots and tangles. The girl took extra care while brushing her skin, rubbing her back and cleaning her feet.

When she was so clean that she glowed pink, Lynora helped her out of the water and dried the water off her body with woolen towels. She chose her favourite sweet scent of lavender and Lynora dabbed some on her finger and touched Ashara behind each ear, and under her chin, and then lightly on her nipples. Her handmaiden dressed her in silken smallclothes and brought the gown she had chosen for the feast, a lilac velvet gown to bring out the violet in her eyes. The gown was so fine, made with rich and plush velvet that it made her feel as if she had worn a layer of snow hugging her skin. The skirts of the gown were long and full and had silver direwolves chasing silver stars patterned in the hem. Lynora tightened the laces of her gown made from threads of silver. Her handmaiden cinched her middle with a silver sash around her slender waist, crusted with amethysts cut into stars. She wore her glass slippers and the silver chain, the only things she possessed from Starfall, the glass slippers, a gift from her father and the silver chain, a gift from her mother. The glass slippers were crafted so fine with clear crystal, high and slender in the heels strong enough to hold the heavy activities of even women twice her weight. The chain was frosted silver, so thin that she could not feel it around her neck with a tiny glass star for the pendant.

"How many men are we hosting Lynora?" Ashara asked asked her handmaiden went on with finishing touches of her clothes.

"I don't know for sure, my lady," Lynora said as she straightened her skirts. "But it is an impressive number for even Winterfell."

Hope, Old Nan's words ran through her head. You shouldn't worry. But she couldn't help but worry. This was the first feast in Winterfell with her as the Lady of Winterfell and she didn't wanted it to turn sour.

"I'll need you no more for the night, Lynora," Ashara said looking at her handmaiden. "Take your time and get yourself pretty. We wouldn't want to embarrass ourselves before the lords now do we?" She smiled at her handmaiden. "And pick the fragrance you like. I hope lemon is still in your taste?"

The girl blushed. "Thank you milady." She bowed her head and left the room.

The sun had gone down and Winterfell was lit with candles and hearth fires when she came back to her son. Old Nan was there, still knitting. The old woman had been here from the morning so Ashara asked Fat Tom to take her back to her room for the feast. Andrew was awake in his cradle, eyes gazing up at the grey granite ceiling. He was too little to show his expressions but Ashara could see that his face lit up when he saw her. She couldn't help but smile at her son's little face. "How are you my little wolf?" She picked her son in her arms, cooing over him. Clothing Andrew wasn't a big problem for her since he was too young to wear his lordling clothes. She wrapped her son in the best wools and velvets, heavy enough to keep the cold away from him.

When the time came for her to go to the feast Ned came to her chambers to escort her to the Great Hall. "Ash you're beautiful," he planted his lips against hers, a little too roughly than the kisses he used to give her. He looked down at their son in her arms. "How are you both doing?"

"Fine," Ashara said.

Ned nodded and offered his hand, the same way he had offered for their dance at Harrenhal. Ashara smiled at the memory and accepted his hand. Her husband led her through the halls of Winterfell.

"Did you make every preperations for the feast?" Ashara asked as they moved through a door with two men standing guard in grey cloaks.

"I did," Ned said at once. "I tasked Maester Walys with it."

Ashara nodded believing that Maester Walys must have done the necessary works. They stopped briefly before the wide oak-and-iron doors of the Great Hall of Winterfell. Ned nodded to one of the men flanked the doors and the door opened before them.

Winterfell's Great Hall was filled with eight long rows of trestle tables, four on each side of the center aisle. Men crowded shoulder to shoulder on the benches. "Stark!" they called as Ashara walked past with Ned, rising to their feet. "Winterfell! Winterfell!"

She knew what they shouted for—it was their hope they cheered for, it was Ned and his father and his grandfather and all the Starks going back eight thousand years, it was for her son. It made her swell with pride.

Ned took his place in the high seat of his fathers and Ashara sat to her husband's right. Maester Walys was seated at Ned's left.

The Hall grew quiet when Ned stood up. Her husband raised his voice. He welcomed them to Winterfell and asked them to thank the gods old and new for everything. "May the gods be with us in all we do," Ned finished, raising his silver goblet.

"In all we do!" Pewter tankards, clay cups, and iron-banded drinking horns clashed together. They are talking about war, Ashara thought holding her son close. "The North Remembers," Ned had told her the day they married before the eyes of the men. The memory sent chills down her spine the same way it had been on the day Ned had told her those words.

Down the table the servers began to carry in the food.

Such food that Ashara was certain that it fit a royal feast; course after course after course, so much that she could not manage more than a bite or two of each dish. There were great joints of aurochs roasted with leeks, venison pies chunky with carrots, bacon, and mushrooms, mutton chops sauced in honey and cloves, savory duck, peppered boar, goose, skewers of pigeon and capon, beef-and-barley stew, cold fruit soup. Lord Wyman had brought twenty casks of fish from White Harbor packed in salt and seaweed; whitefish and winkles, crabs and mussels, clams, herring, cod, salmon, lobster and lampreys. There was black bread and honeycakes and oaten biscuits; there were turnips and pease and beets, beans and squash and huge red onions; there were baked apples and berry tarts and pears poached in strongwine. Wheels of white cheese were set at every table, above and below the salt, and flagons of hot spice wine and chilled autumn ale were passed up and down the tables.

Lord Wyman's musicians played bravely and well, but harp and fiddle and horn were soon drowned beneath a tide of talk and laughter, the clash of cup and plate, and the snarling of hounds fighting for table scraps. The singer sang good songs, "Iron Lances" and "The Burning of the Ships" and "The Bear and the Maiden Fair," but only the simple-minded giant Hodor seemed to be listening. He stood beside the piper, hopping from one foot to the other.

The noise swelled to a steady rumbling roar, a great heady stew of sound. Ned talked with Maester Walys and Ser Rodrik from the high table while down the table the lords were enjoying with their fellow lords of the north.

The serving men brought every dish to Ned and her first. After some of the dishes had passed her husband nodded his approval at each course in turn, and waved it away. He send some exotic special dishes to one of the lords on the dais, a gesture of friendship. Ned never send his favors for the lords alone, he also send favors for the commoners.

Her husband sent some salmon down to Lord Galbart Glover whose lands were too far inland for them to get seafood, the boar to the boisterous Lord Umber, a dish of goose-in-berries to Lord Rickard Karstark, and a huge lobster to Martyn Cassel. Ashara for her part sent sweets to Old Nan and Hodor, Old Nan's only blood relation, a roasted pheasant for Maester Walys, a thanks for putting all his efforts in bringing her son to this world safely and for putting up the feast and a honeyed chicken to her handmaiden.

On the benches below, Winterfell men mixed with smallfolk from the winter town, friends from the nearer holdfasts, and the escorts of their lordly guests. Ashara saw Ned talking with Howland Reed. She hadn't seen the crannogman after her marriage, she didn't even knew that he was here but she was happy to see him again. He had accompanied Ned at their secret marriage at Harrenhal, the only one to know about the secret other than her brother. Lord Reed was the first one to come see Andrew.

"He looks so much like Lord Eddard but he has your hair my lady," he said when she showed him her son.

After that one by one the Lords of the north came to see their new heir. Lord Greatjon Umber congratulated her for giving the north a strong heir. Lord Rickard Karstark told her to be proud for giving Andrew to Ned, Lord Roose Bolton studied her son for a while with his pale eyes before muttering a congratulation to Ned and her both. Lord Wyman laughed so loud and long saying that the Sword of the Morning was here to save them from the dark. Lord Cerwyn said that Andrew was beautiful. Lord Glover said that it was his pleasure to meet her son. Everyone came to see her son, even the smallfolk was much interested in seeing him.

Much later, after all the sweets had been served and washed down with gallons of summerwine, the food was cleared and the tables shoved back against the walls to make room for the dancing. The music grew wilder, the drummers joined in, and Hother Umber brought forth a huge curved warhorn banded in silver. When the singer reached the part in "The Night That Ended" where the Night's Watch rode forth to meet the Others in the Battle for the Dawn, he blew a blast that set all the dogs to barking.

Ashara was hot and tired of the feast. She was glad that she had her son in her arms since no one bothered to ask her for a dance. The others joined in the dance cheerfully, seizing the serving girls and pulling them to the dance floor for the dance. She stayed there long enough to be polite and then excused herself in order to put her son to sleep.

She made her way to her chambers without bothering any of the guards. Andrew had gone to sleep in her arms and she placed him in his cradle gently with the night's kiss. Her baby took to his cradle without recognising the difference.

Ashara took off her velvet gown and changed to her nightgown, a pale woolen one which covered from her neck to her toe. She was about to get into the bed when she heard a knock on the door. Ashara very well knew who it was even before she opened the door. No one came to her chambers so late other than her husband.

He was standing there before her, not as the brave Lord he had been in the feast but as the young boy who was so shy to even ask her for a dance.

"Get in here before you freeze in your place, my lord," Ashara said.

Ned chuckled at that and entered her chambers. "The Starks are made for the cold, my lady." He moved over to their son's cradle. She had kept the cradle near the bed in order to check on her son if he woke up at night. Ned sat on the bed and caressed Andrew's hair for a while. He never said anything all the while looking at their sleeping son.

"I know that you would be afraid," he said breaking his silence.

"For what?" Ashara asked moving near him.

"For what I'm about to do," Ned said, his eyes never leaving their son in his cradle.

"Ned, you're not doing anything bad," Ashara moved over to sit with him on the bed. Her husband turned to see her and Ashara placed her hand on his cheek and looked straight into his grey eyes, soft as fog. "It's them who started this, who forced your hand."

Ned took her hand in his and kissed her palm to her wrist. "If I don't do this we'll have to look over our shoulders for the hidden daggers all our life and our son would have to as well."

Ashara saw the pain in him. She leaned in to kiss him. "I understand, Ned," she said leaning her forehead against his. "I will stand with you, always."

Ned kissed her again, this time there was no gentleness in his kiss, only hunger and more tongue. His hands found her breast, pressing and kneading it in his hand. It was clear to her that he had missed her. He hadn't visited her bed for almost a year now and he never brought another woman to his bed. A man will have his needs, she could understand.

Ned laid her gently on the bed, kissing her lips, her face and her neck. He parted from her for a moment to remove her gown and he did it so fastly that he nearly tore the gown from her body. He was on her again within a moment moving her up in the bed.

Ned pushed her legs apart and kissed her hard until she moaned. Ashara gasped when Ned entered her and slid her arms around her husband's shoulders and let him have his way with her. Ned thrusted into her in a slow pace at first but his pace increased with his urgency. He kissed her ear, he kissed her jaw, her neck, her collar and her breasts until she could feel only his mouth and his body on her. He was over her, inside her, he was everywhere. He picked up the speed even more when he was nearing his end, ramming into her so hard that she couldn't help but moan so loud that she was certain that the guards at her door could hear her moans if they had stayed to guard at the doors. She was glad that they hadn't brought the guards from the feast. Ned continued to pump into her and bit her throat hard enough to leave a mark when he spilled his seed inside her womb. He stayed on her to catch his breath, his manhood still inside her, coated with her wetness where they were joined.

When he was done, Ned rolled off and laid beside her. Ashara could feel the warmth of his seed within her. Her breasts were sore and red, leaking with milk. She knew that Ned was taken by his longing heat for passion, else he wouldn't have taken her like this. That didn't mattered anyway, not after it had given comfort and warmth for both of them.

Ned pulled her to him and kissed her forehead. "I love you."

Ashara laid her head on his chest and snuggled further to his warmth. "I love you too," she said and rested her head on his chest again. Her husband stroked her hair, wet and wild from his love making. Ashara could hear the rythm of his heart, strong and steady the sound sweeter for her ears, sweeter than the music she'd heard in the feast. She never knew when sleep clouded her but she was sure she went to sleep hearing to Ned's heart beat.