"No." Ashara Dayne stared at him with a look mixed between horror, outrage and defiance. It eerily reminded Ned of Lyanna's expression when their father attempted to prevent her from riding after her she began her first flowering. You are a woman now, he had informed her. Women do not gallop across fields with mud splattering on their skirts.

"It is the king's orders," Ned said uncomfortably.

"The king expects me to wed my brother's killer?" Ashara laughed sharply. "It must be a jape – a not very funny one either."

"Lady Ashara, it is no jape. You can read it for yourself. The king expects us to be wedded and bedded before I am required back in King's Landing for his own wedding to Lady Catelyn Tully."

"If His Grace is committed on peace between the North, the Crownlands and Dorne Lord Stark, he would not mind at all if you wed another highborn Dornish maiden." She folded the letter. For a moment, Ned thought she would rip it in half. "Mayhaps you should wed Princess Arianne Martell?" Ashara suggested. "I hear she is wilful child. What better match than a wild wolf of the North and a wayward daughter of Dorne?"

"I thank you for your suggestion my lady, but I doubt her father, Prince Doran, will approve of it."

"Do you honestly believe my brother, the Lord of Starfall, will approve of me as your bride? Do you think he would cart me off to a cold, barren land far away? Our brother is dead and I am a maiden in mourning. I will not wed until I have mourned Arthur sufficiently."

"My lady, you are not Ser Arthur's wife."

"Arthur wedded a position in the Kingsguard. As his sister, I must do my duty and mourn him. Lord Stark, you of all people must understand that."

Ned sighed, gritting his teeth in frustration. Why must she be so stubborn? He never found enough strength to talk to obstinate women; he could not even win an argument against Lyanna. "Do you want your House to face the king's wrath?" he said rather testily. "My lady, I am a man of honour and I acclaim you for your determination to mourn your brother. However, I too have lost people I love in this war. My father was slowly roasted to death in his armour, my elder brother strangled, my sister also dead, Lord Willam Dustin, Ethan Glover, Martyn Cassel, Theo Wull, Ser Mark Ryswell, all slew outside the Tower of Joy…all the northmen who fought beside me in this bloody war." He snatched a quick breath and went on, "I have lost too many people I care about to count my lady. Once peace reigns in Westeros, we can all mourn for our loved ones. You are no fool, my lady. You want peace as much as I do. Play your part. Wed me as the king instructed and mourn your brother afterwards. If you wish for our marriage to be only in name, so be it. I have my younger brother as my heir already. I will not force you to go to Winterfell with me my lady," He looked at her steadily. "yet I yearn for us to be a true husband and wife for the good of peace."

Ashara bit her lip. By the gods she could be Lyanna's twin. Lyanna always bit her lip when in doubt or in deep thought. "I can return here any time I wish with or without your permission, my lord?" she challenged. "I will be allowed to bring a number of servants with me to Winterfell?"

Ned had not expected that. "Ah…yes, my lady. Will your servants and maids adjust to the cold of the North? Believe me my lady Ashara, it is nothing like your Dornish winters." Are Dornish winters even cold? "If you so desire, we can draw up the terms of our marriage contract now."

"Do you not want to send a letter first to the Lord of Starfall, asking him for his consent and blessing to our marriage?" She smirked.

"That will not be necessary. It is the king's command."

Lady Ashara snorted. "For a man of honour, that is not very honourable, now is it? Wedding a highborn lady without the permission of her lord brother? You are in luck, Lord Stark. My brother is occupied at Sunspear. He will not return for at least two months."

"My lady, you consent to willingly wed me?"

Ashara Dayne sighed. "The king orders us to wed," she said bluntly. "There is not much we can do. Why does the king demand me to marry you, Lord Stark? I doubt many ladies wed their brothers' killers."

"You are a highborn maiden, Dornish-"

"Lord Stark, you are a terrible liar."

His face as hot and red as the red chilli spices on his plate of greens last night, he muttered, "My apologies, my lady." Lady Ashara smiled wryly. Ned tapped the letter. "This had been written before Ser Arthur died. Lord Arryn is clever; he knows an alliance with Dorne is imperative. A good many of marriages between Dornish nobles and the king's allies will be needed, beginning with my marriage. The Martells will not relinquish one of their own – especially after the deaths of Prince Lewyn and Princess Elia – and knowing this, Lord Arryn turns to Dorne's powerful noble houses.

"Houses Allyrion, Blackmont and Yronwood are only a few other noble houses in Dorne, but Lord Arryn convinces the king to broker a betrothal between your House of Starfall and mine of Winterfell. I suspect the reasons were related to the Sword of the Morning being one of the deadliest warriors in the Seven Kingdoms and my position as the king's foster brother."

"I suppose you will not be a horrible husband," mused Ashara boldly. "You were kind enough to return Dawn in person. Many lords will melt Dawn down to smaller swords of their own. Besides, we do not have much of a choice, my lord. It is the king's command after all."

"I must ask you a delicate question-"

"I am still a maiden." She stared at him in the eye as if daring him to contradict her. "Will that be all, Lord Stark?"

Ned rubbed his hands together and asked hesitantly, "That night…when you danced with me. What did Brandon promise you?"

"Why do you think he promised me anything?"

No beautiful woman would dance with a man like me willingly. "I found it odd you consented to dance with me after he spoke to you."

"Merely a coincidence, my lord. Merely a coincidence." She smiled. "When do you propose we wed?"

"If it is not too bold of me my lady, I was considering tonight." Ashara's smile vanished. "We can wed in the sept if you so wish," Ned said quickly. "Lord Reed will witness our wedding ceremony in case any doubts of our marriage surfaces in the future. Is there a woman you trust to be witness too?"

"Tonight?" Lady Ashara repeated. "That is quite sudden."

"I am aware of it my lady. The sooner we wed…"

Ashara sighed and stood up. "So be it. You have the king expecting you back at King's Landing. I will go and talk to the septon. Perhaps I may even have time to find a suitable wedding gown. What of you, my lord? Will you take me as your wife in travel-stained clothes?" She sniggered sweetly as Ned blushed. Then she shrugged. "I do not care what you wear Lord Stark. Even if you wed me in your armour, I will take you as my husband."

Ned nodded. "I will…I will see you at the sept tonight."


The candles wavered as Ned entered Starfall's sept. Like all septs, there were seven walls painted with the faces of the Seven: the Father, Mother, Maiden, Smith, Warrior, Crone and the Stranger. The septon – an old man with sprouts of white hair and many freckles – was already standing between the altars of the Father and the Mother.

"My lord Stark. I see you found your way here without much trouble." Ashara gracefully glided towards him in a Dornish-style low-cut purple gown of flowing silks. She had kept on her star pendant and donned a new girdle, one of silver with grey diamonds. Her long, dark hair was left cascading down her slender shoulders up to her waist; she wore no jewelled hairnets, bands or wreaths. As she headed in his direction, he noticed a lilac cloak billowing out around her. It was a knight's cloak – most likely the Sword of the Morning's – and upon short notice, it would serve perfectly as a maiden's cloak. Ned himself had clasped a white cloak emblazoned with a running grey direwolf over his shoulders. The maids had managed to scrub away the splatters of dirt and blood during the hot afternoon; they did it exceedingly well. Taking Ned's arm, Ashara walked with him up to the septon, Ashara's gown shifting shades between light purple and dark. She is indeed a gem of Dorne, Ned thought.

The septon cleared his throat. "You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection."

Breathing softly, Ned removed Ashara's cloak and draped his own over her shoulders, his hands slightly shaking as he clasped it together. He grasped her hand and the septon tied a silk ribbon around their hands. "In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one, for eternity," droned the septon. "Look upon one another and say the words."

Ned turned and gazed at Ashara Dayne who stared back expressionlessly. Will

Ned turned and gazed at Ashara Dayne who stared back expressionlessly. Will she find me an unpleasing husband? "Father, Smith, Warrior," he said solemnly in unison with Ashara, "Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger, I am hers and she is mine from this day until the end of my days." He kissed her lightly on the cheek – a proper kiss can wait.

The ceremony over, Ned and Ashara left for the Feasting Hall where they – along with little Lady Allyria Dayne and Howland – were served no more than five courses, all including spices or lemons. The first course consisted of stuffed green peppers with cheese and onion; the second was a hearty meal of roasted lamb drizzled with lemon and honey; it was followed by spicy duck dunked in a tub of sticky, dark sauce with swimming slices of onions; the penultimate serving contained small cakes with flavours alternating between lemon and cream; and the servants presented them with a bowl of cold fruit to finish off the wedding feast. It did not surprise Ned to see thinly cut lemons there.

"We will prepare to leave at dawn," Ned told his silent wife. "Do you have a castellan to rule Starfall in your stead?"

"Yes," came the quiet response. "He can take care of Allyria too."

"When it is safe, Lady Allyria can join us in Winterfell. I'll be more than happy to foster her-"

"No." She bit her lip. "It pains me to say this my lord, but no. My sister is too young to face your northern climate. She belongs here in Starfall. Arthur is dead, our brother remains at Sunspear and I will leave with you for King's Landing at dawn tomorrow. Allyria will stay here until she is old enough to be fostered. I may send for her at a later time."

Ned touched her hand. "Ned. Call me Ned. If it is the northern winters you are concerned about, what of Riverrun? Lord Tully will be glad to foster her."

"No. There must always be a Dayne in Starfall."

He stared at her. Noticing his look, Ashara asked, "Was it something I said? I mean no offence if I did."

"No," said Ned, swirling his cup of Dornish strongwine. "It's just my father oft said there must always be a Stark in Winterfell. At the tourney at Harrenhal, he wanted to leave one of us at home, but we all wanted to go…"

Ashara smiled forlornly. "What is done cannot be undone. Now we have a new

king on the Iron Throne and there will be peace for many winters to come. If you do not mind me asking, which Stark is in Winterfell as you speak?"

"My brother Benjen. I suppose he will find a Northern bride of his own when we return to Winterfell."

"Not a southron highborn maiden?"

"No. I wedded you for peace with the south; Benjen will wed a northern girl to strengthen our House's ties with the other northern lords."

"I thought you wedded me to obey the king's orders?"

"That too." He rose, Ashara, Allyria and Howland following suit. "My lady." He nodded at a sleepy Allyria. "My lord." He dipped his head at Howland. "My lady wife and I bid you goodnight."


The small party set off for King's Landing the next day as the sun slowly crept up the blanket of yellow, orange and red. Ashara had brought along twenty of her household knights and a maid by the name of Wylla. Ashara had tearfully bade her sister farewell before she left; she had not looked back at Starfall since. It had been too hazardous to sail, so they were forced to ride. Ned wondered if Robert would wait for his return before he wed Catelyn Tully. Waiting had never been one of Robert's strengths.

As they neared the remains of the Tower of Joy, Ashara had fallen back with Wylla, leaving Ned a chance to speak to the little crannogman. "I wish you had rode back earlier," Ned said softly.

"You would have been alone," Howland Reed responded. "Who would have helped you bury the poor messenger?"

"I admire your loyalty – I am grateful for it – but the roads to Winterfell are treacherous, especially now as peace is yet to be achieved."

"There is naught for you to worry about. The maester was aware of his orders and he is well-guarded. My two men may not have been brawny or large, but I can assure you, they are clever, skilled and trustworthy. You have also written a letter to your brother Benjen, have you not? By the time we reach King's Landing, the maester and your boy will no doubt be close to Winterfell. Once they are near the Riverlands, all will be well. It is their journey through Dorne and the Reach that I am more concerned about. If something occurs, the maester is aware that he can visit Highgarden for a spot of recovery. Maesters treat Oldtown as their home and Lord Hightower rules over it; he himself serves Lord Tyrell whose seat is Highgarden. All will be well, my lord."

If only I can be as confident as you Lord Reed.

"What did you name him?" Howland inquired.

"Jon," said Ned absently, thinking of the prospect of his future brood of sons and daughters running around Winterfell laughing, some with his grey eyes and others with Ashara's violet eyes. He longed to return home. He had more than his share of war and was more than ready to spend the rest of his life in the North. I will rule the North in the name of King Robert Baratheon. Traitors and deserters will be executed, loyal men commended.

"Does Lady Stark know of him?"

"Not yet. She will eventually. I trust you will keep all this to yourself, Lord Reed? I ask you of this as a friend, not your liege lord."

The faithful crannogman nodded. "Aye. You did not even have to ask, my lord. I know when to keep my mouth shut."

The journey from Starfall to King's Landing took less time than Ned expected. He had thought Ashara and Wylla would be exhausted when they arrived, but they had shown no signs of fatigue. Ashara is as strong as a Mormont, thought Ned as he remembered Lord Jeor Mormont's stout sister Maege, who favoured the spiked mace to a sewing needle. She will survive the North; she is no fragile flower from the garden of southron highborn maidens.

As Ned rode under the Red Keep's portcullis with Ashara at his side, he was hit with mixed feelings. The last time Ned rode in the Red Keep, he found the oathbreaker Jaime Lannister sitting on the throne, the body of the Mad King Aerys II Targaryen at his feet. Ned wondered if Robert had sent him to the Wall yet. His displeasure was confirmed when the oathbreaker himself sauntered out from a great oaken door. Ned grinded his teeth in the manner similar to Stannis Baratheon as Jaime Lannister walked up to him, his mop of golden hair sparkling under the sunlight like strands of gold, his eyes glimmering like emeralds as he smiled at Ned and Ashara. "Lord Stark," the oathbreaker said with a smile that cut like a knife. "You have finally returned! Lord Tully was frantic you have been killed by a horde of angry Dornishmen and he will witness your funeral rather than his precious daughter's wedding." He smirked. "His Grace requests you in the Great Hall immediately. Ah!" His smile broadened as he caught sight of his wife. "Lady Ashara Dayne! Lady Ashara Stark now, isn't it?"

"Ser Jaime," Ashara acknowledged, dismounting her horse. "You are well?"

"Quite well my lady." He smiled charmingly. "His Grace will be eager to see you as well. Is that Lord Reed I see?" Giving him a suspicious look, Ned headed to the Great Hall, Jaime Lannister's chattering nothing but the buzzing of a fly. He felt his hand squeezed.

"Face your ghosts Ned," whispered Ashara. "You cannot enjoy life while tied to the ghosts of your past." He nodded. Our marriage may not be as unbearable as I thought it would be. He smiled to himself. It was the first time Ashara called him Ned without hesitation.

The doors swung open and Ned was blinded by a flurry of courtiers. Brown-haired Tyrells huddled near the doors, golden-haired Lannisters stood proudly near the foot of the throne, auburn-haired Tullys opposite them…sitting on the throne with a grin on his ruddy face, King Robert Baratheon boomed. "Ned! What took you so long? It has been weeks!" He almost jumped from the dais as he strode towards Ned and pulled him into a hug with a hearty pat on the back. "I thought you would never show your face!" he chuckled. "Tywin Lannister here had the temerity to suggest you abandoned me for your cold Winterfell! That will never happen eh, Ned?"

Ned smiled at his old friend. "Have you met my wife, the Lady Ashara?"

Ashara curtsied. "Your Grace." Robert bade her to stand and kissed her hand chivalrously. "My lady," he grinned. "You are fortunate to have Ned as a husband! Solemn as an old man and probably no fun in bed, but you know he will remain faithful to you." He winked at her before turning his attention back to Ned. "You remember my betrothed, Lady Catelyn Tully?" She was to be my good-sister at one time. Ned nodded at Lady Catelyn. "My lady."

"My lords and ladies!" Robert's voice bounced off the walls. "Now that my good friend Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, has finally returned to court, I am pleased to announce my wedding to Lady Catelyn of House Tully will occur next week! My lady Catelyn and I have waited long enough!" He roared with laughter as the other lords and ladies joined him.

"What of Lord Stannis?" inquired Ned, looking around for Robert's grim-faced and teeth-grinding younger brother.

"Lord Stannis is still sailing from Dragonstone." A plump, bald man in bright purple silks stepped forward, bringing the smell of lilacs and perfume with him. He rubbed his hands – as soft as a woman's – together and spoke. "Have you not heard, Lord Stark? Lord Stannis has captured Dragonstone without a single drop of blood and is sailing back as we speak with two valuable pieces of cargo. Can you imagine what he brings with him, Lord Stark?"

"Varys." Ned did not bother hiding his contempt for the wily eunuch.

"Stannis has captured the last of the dragonspawn!" said Robert triumphantly, grinning from ear to ear. "Once he leads them here in chains, you, my friend, will finally extract your revenge for your dead father and brother." Ned felt his throat tighten. "I honour you Ned," Robert continued, his blue eyes shining, "with the gift of two Targaryen dragonspawn. You will have the honour of killing them in any manner you find fit."


I noticed a significant decrease in reviews...I hope you still enjoy reading the story all the same :) The next chapter is ready to go, so more reviews, the quicker I update ;)