There was so much to do at Winterfell nowadays. Gone were the school books and items of amusement; welcome days of ensuring the supplies were full and a well-run household. All of a sudden, now the wife of the acting lord, an outbreak of problems were thrusted at Dany. The food stores must be sufficiently stocked, the storerooms stuffed with furs, pelts and warm coverlets, and the younger ones must be kept from mischief.
It was not easy managing all that whilst carrying a child. Thankfully, Dany had plenty of much-needed help from Maester Luwin. Though he did not seem happy, he still dutifully assisted Dany with her new obligations and continued educating Arthur and Rickon as well as advising Robb in the matters of Winterfell. For that, Dany was extremely grateful. Without the maester's aid, Daenerys felt she would have been a headless chicken running around in endless circles.
That particular day, after a morning counting jars of preserved jam and pots of salt, sugar and oil with the steward, Daenerys finally had the chance to rest. With a sigh of relief, Dany sank onto a comfortable chair and patted her stomach. Even though she knew she was with child, she was not showing yet. "It'll show in your fourth month my lady," Maester Luwin had told her, "or fifth." Dany remembered when Lady Stark was carrying a child, she still continued bustling to and fro even when she was obviously showing. How will I be able to do that? Dany wondered, reaching for her sewing basket. I've been pregnant for a month and three weeks – I am already exhausted. She hoped she was carrying a boy. Hopefully when her son was born, the northern lords would be warmer towards her. Surely a male Stark heir would please even the coldest of northern lords.
Dany smiled as Robb entered her chambers. "How is our child?" asked Robb as soon as he looked at her. Dany rolled her eyes. "Really?" she said testily.
Robb laughed. "How are you, Dany?"
"Tired. I don't know how your mother managed to complete all her duties and carry a child in her womb."
"It will be worth it when our child is born." He suddenly looked worried. "Stay safe and comfortable, Dany. Do not stress yourself out."
"I won't," promised Daenerys, shuffling over to make room for Robb. "I know it's still too early to tell, but what do you think? Girl or boy?" She'd rather discuss their unborn child instead of politics, northern lords or the oncoming winter. "I'd love a girl as much as a boy," Dany went on.
"Me too," agreed Robb, his purple eyes glistening with affection. "If I die with a daughter, I'd name her my heir. Many of my ancestors died leaving daughters but their brothers or uncles succeeded them. If anything is to happen to me, our child, regardless of his or her gender, will succeed me. I swear to you, Daenerys, by the old gods and new, our child will be the future Lord or Lady of Winterfell."
"Is that not a little rash, Robb? Your lords will not like it. Besides, your father's still the Lord of Winterfell."
Robb shrugged. "I'm only securing the future for our child. Now, it is never too early to plan names. If it's a boy, what would you like to call him?"
Daenerys thought for a moment. It must be a Northern name. A Stark name. "I think Edwyle or Edwyn would be nice," she decided. "After your father in a way. I also think Cregan and Harlon are good names too."
"Harlon?" Robb wrinkled his nose. "Didn't King Harlon Stark battle against the Boltons and starved out the Dreadfort in a siege lasting two years? Admirable yet the Boltons are already against us. We don't want to offend them more by calling our future son Harlon."
"Did Lord Bolton accept your proposal?" inquired Dany reluctantly. She hated talking about the Boltons, but now that it was brought up…
"Still no reply," sighed Robb. "I wonder if he is ignoring my ravens on purpose. I suspected he was a man who can hold grudges for decades, but the offer was an excellent one. Lord Bolton still gets a Stark good-daughter and a higher dowry. It will mend hostilities between our Houses. Perhaps Lord Bolton is planning to um, break Domeric's betrothal to Arrana Umber gently. I don't know. I hope the Lord of the Dreadfort will respond soon."
"If it works out, at least Arya will know her future husband."
Robb didn't look particularly happy. "She already hates me Dany. Arya'll never forgive me if Syrio Forel leaves. He is planning to, you know. He says he might go back to Braavos before winter sets in." He stood up. "Sorry," he apologised. "I am needed in the solar in ten minutes. War council meeting. Wildlings and all that. If all goes to plan, I'll dine with you tonight. Sometimes they do go overtime though. The Greatjon can be um, obstinate in his war strategies at times." He thought for a moment. "Well, all the northern lords can be stubborn. Oh!" A flash of memory appeared in his eyes. "I forgot to tell you! Gwenysse is coming home. It will take a few months – she will spend a week or two at court with our parents, sisters and Bran – for her to get here."
"She's eight isn't she?"
"Yes. We will also have…more guests."
Daenerys frowned. "More? Robb, your father is aware of this yes?"
Robb nodded. "Of course. It is for the good of the North. Lady Maege Mormont has agreed to send her youngest daughter Lady Lyanna to Winterfell. Usually the Mormont women do not hide from battle, but to preserve House Mormont in the case all the Mormont women are killed in battle, Lady Lyanna Mormont will stay here until the war with the wildlings is over."
"You said guests. Who else will stay?" Robb looked startled. "One of my duties is to ensure there is enough food for the winter," Dany explained. "I've been with the steward counting jars this morning."
"Of course," said Robb, nodding understandingly. "Lady Alys Karstark."
Daenerys frowned again. Lady Alys Karstark was coming to Winterfell? Green-eyed jealousy stabbed Dany in the heart. Lady Alys was no child; she was a young woman only a year younger than Robb. She wasn't particularly beautiful, but she did have pretty blue-grey eyes. Is that enough for Robb to discard me? Dany then almost slapped herself. Robb jilted a princess to marry her. He would not attempt to remove her when he sees the first pretty face come by. Besides, Robb was too honourable to even consider sleeping with other women.
"…and she would've been sent to the Hornwood if there weren't rumours of a violent band of criminals running around on Bolton land," Robb was saying. "Her betrothed is Daryn Hornwood after all. Daryn's mother Lady Donella wanted her to come to the Hornwood, but with the majority of Hornwood men off to fight the wildlings, the Hornwood isn't exactly the safest place for an unmarried girl, thus why Lady Alys is coming here."
"I thought the Karstarks are furious with you."
"Furious yes, but Lord Karstark's worst fear is his daughter stolen by wildlings. If having Lady Alys as a guest here will smooth out relations with House Karstark, so be it. Ensure Lady Alys is comfortable and happy, Daenerys. She might not like you, but she will still be our guest." He hesitated. "I'm concerned she might be ah, bored here with Lyarra and Arya gone. Befriend her. I know my father often kept you and Jon out of sight during important visits, but you are a Stark now. Well, in everyone's eyes you are a Stark." He kissed her on the cheek. "I must go now. It'll be a mistake to keep the other lords waiting."
Dany nodded and watched him leave. She picked aimlessly at her sewing, deep in thought. Robb was always busy these days. Sometimes the only time she'd talk to him was in the evening before they went to sleep. As she contemplated, one of the new ladies Robb assigned her walked in. She was from House Mollen and was the niece of Hallis Mollen, Captain of the Winterfell guards. Lady Raya Mollen did not seem pleased at the prospect of serving Dany. At times she would be insolent and sarcastic – apparently like her uncle in that aspect.
"Lady Lyanna Mormont is here my lady," Raya Mollen informed her, her green eyes twinkling with bemusement.
"I'll welcome her then." Daenerys rose. "Prepare her chambers."
"What am I? A common maidservant my lady?" Dany sighed. Raya Mollen was not in a cooperative mood today. "My father's a knight and my mother the eldest niece of Lord Locke," Raya said proudly. Her lips curled. "At least I'm not afraid of stating my parentage."
I would state my true heritage if it didn't endanger the Starks, Daenerys wanted to retort. Instead, she gritted her teeth and said as calmly as she could, "Please go and ask the maids to prepare Lady Lyanna's rooms."
"As you wish my lady." Raya left.
Sighing a second time, Dany slowly made her way to the Great Hall. Now she'd married Robb, the Winterfell servants no longer treated her kindly. All of them – except Maester Luwin but he wasn't exactly a servant – were more impudent like Raya and the bolder ones would scowl at her. I wish I didn't have to hide as a Sand, thought Daenerys sadly. If I am Daenerys Targaryen, I will not be hated and Robb will not be despised for marrying me. No, even if she was the last trueborn dragon, to the world, the northerners would still hate her for wedding Robb. Her brother Rhaegar – it was still so strange thinking of him as her brother – kidnapped Lady Lyanna Stark and started a war. Well, maybe not kidnapped, but what he did still incited a war which ended in his death and Lady Lyanna's. Daenerys sighed for a third time. Targaryen or Sand, she would never earn the love of the Northerners. Or the Baratheons for that matter. The king would rather see her dead than alive and married and with child if he knew the truth.
"My lady." Maester Luwin was beckoning her towards the small, unsmiling girl covered from head to toe in thick furs. "This is Lady Lyanna Mormont. My lady of House Mormont, this is Lord Robb's wife the Lady Daenerys…Stark."
Dany smiled at Lady Lyanna who pushed her furred hood away. The little lady didn't smile back. Lady Lyanna Mormont's brown eyes warily scanned around as if she was on a battlefield instead of Winterfell's Great Hall. Dany watched her sit down at the end of a long seat at one of the trestle tables. Though it must've been a long, exhausting trip from Bear Island, Lady Lyanna didn't look tired. She had a determined chin and her dark brown hair was tied back.
"Welcome to Winterfell Lady Lyanna," said Dany nervously. This was her first time as hostess. "If you are exhausted, I will have you shown to your room."
Lady Lyanna looked at her impassively. "I'm not tired," she said shortly. "I had rested quite a bit on the journey here."
"I…see. Would you like to eat then, my lady? I'm afraid it will only be us dining as my husband is in a war council meeting and my young good-brothers are in an intense training session." Lady Lyanna's eyes brightened when Daenerys said the training session. "May I join them?" she asked.
"Now?" said Daenerys, taken back. She knew the Mormont women learnt to be skilled fighters, but hearing a ten year old girl request it was…strange.
Lady Lyanna frowned. "Yes now. I'm not tired my lady."
"Should you not settle in your new home first? I will be happy to give you um a tour if you want."
Lady Lyanna shrugged. "I'm already settled."
Before Dany could say any more, Meera Reed appeared. "Is this Lady Lyanna?" the crannogwoman inquired.
"I'm Lyanna Mormont," the Mormont girl responded before Dany could. "And you are a crannogman."
Meera smiled. "Meera Reed. I heard you're a fighter too." Lady Lyanna nodded slowly with suspicion. "Bear Island does not solely contain warrior women," said Meera, twirling her frog spear. "Though you do fight more against people, I must admit. We crannogmen all learn to fight at a young age – both boys and girls – to be able to hunt and defend ourselves. What is your weapon of choice?"
"Mace."
"Mine is the frog spear and net."
As the two chatted, Daenerys watched on, slightly depressed. It is natural that Lady Lyanna will be happier talking to Meera, she tried to console herself. Meera's also a guest here and is good with weapons. She didn't feel any better. Deep inside, Dany knew it was because of her 'bastard' name. Even the youngest Mormont did not approve of her marriage.
"My lady," said Maester Luwin quietly, shuffling to her side. "If you wish, I can keep an eye on matters here. I will ensure Lady Lyanna is shown to her chambers or at least given food and drink."
"Thank you," said Daenerys gratefully. There was no point lingering around if she was unwanted. She quietly slipped away. Daenerys halted close to the doors. She glanced back. Lady Lyanna Mormont didn't seem to notice that Dany was not at her side anymore. Meera noticed though and gave her a quick nod. Don't worry. I will look after her, her green eyes told her. Usually Dany would be very thankful; not when she was playing the part of hostess though.
Tired of being confined within the walls of Winterfell, Daenerys made her way to the godswood. Lately, she had found comfort in the silence and serenity of the Winterfell godswood. She would never be devoted to the old gods like Jojen Reed, but she certainly appreciated the quiet godswood more. Once Dany was afraid of the thick black trunks that crowded together and the ancient heart tree that was brooding over a small black pool – not anymore.
A cold wind flittered through the still trees and kissed Dany on the cheek. She shivered yet sat down on a large, smooth rock near the heart tree. She and Robb were secretly married here and one day their child would be too, though in pomp and glory. Daenerys closed her eyes and allowed her thoughts to wander slowly, sluggishly even. Was Jon still alive? There was no way he is dead. They would've received a raven about it by now. Why did Jon leave? Dany wondered. Surely there must be another reason for his departure than a thirst for wildling blood.
"Daenerys Stark." Dany jumped to her feet, startled, as she heard a quiet voice utter her name from behind her. Her heart slowed back to normal as she noticed the speaker – Jojen Reed. What is it with Reeds? Daenerys pondered. First Meera, now Jojen. They rarely interacted with her before and now they both did…on the same day too. Jojen was naturally a recluse; Meera was not. It was suspicious and rather…rather odd.
"Jojen," said Dany, breathing deeply in relief.
Jojen's solemn, deep green eyes fixed themselves on her. "Did I frighten you? I apologise for that. I was trying to find you Daenerys Stark."
"How do you know I'd be here?"
"I would come here if I felt threatened."
Daenerys arched an eyebrow. "I don't feel threatened, Jojen. Why should I? I'm at home. Winterfell is my home."
"It is your home," Jojen conceded, "but will it still be? When is a home not your home?" He answered his own question. "When it is invaded."
"Did you find me to tell me riddles?"
Jojen took a step towards her. Daenerys instinctively stepped back. There was something disconcerting about the heir to Greywater Watch. "Some say death by love is the most painful," Jojen said quietly. "Some would die longing for it. Other people may die regretting they ever tasted love. You are shrouded with secrets, I know that Daenerys Stark. Robb Stark sacrificed everything for you. Maybe even his life. Will you regret it? Will he regret it?"
"Stop it!" Daenerys snapped, desiring to clap her hands over her ears. "I don't want to hear this! What gives you the right to ask questions like that? What gives you the right to make me question my marriage? Love is not poison!" She almost did not believe her own words towards the end.
"I have green dreams," murmured Jojen, leaning forward and almost caressing the face carved into the trunk of the heart tree. "I see visions. Visions that'll come true." His green eyes returned to Daenerys. "Most of it is to do with the North – I see you though, Daenerys Stark."
Momentarily distracted, Daenerys said, "Why do you call me that?"
"Call you what?"
"Daenerys Stark."
Jojen paused as if he was deep in thought. "Everything about you is wrong," he said finally. "I think the only time you were – no, you were never you. You remind me of a Faceless Man from Braavos. I don't think you were ever you since birth. I don't mean to offend you Daenerys Stark, but who are you? I know you aren't the bastard daughter of the late Lord Dayne." He studied Dany. "You are not a Sand, a dragon perhaps?" Daenerys's blood went cold. "But there are no dragons left," he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers, "are there, Daenerys Stark?"
"Why are you here?" said Daenerys bluntly, quashing her fear.
"I have my reasons Daenerys Stark. As you have yours. In our lives, we have an abundant opportunity to choose which doors to enter. The door to the devout in the south will always be open for you…Daenerys Stark."
Daenerys stared at the ceiling as she waited for Robb to join her in their bed. It still bothered her, that conversation with Jojen in the godswood. Now she wished she had never spoken to Jojen Reed – he brought naught but uncertainty. He had now cast the shadow of doubt upon Dany's thoughts. Chiefly the net was thrown over her contemplations of her marriage to Robb.
The bedchamber door opened and Robb came in, yawning. "We received a few late ravens," he explained, rubbing his eyes. "The Greatjon insisted for us to read and respond to them straight away." The bed whined slightly as Robb climbed on and laid next to Dany. "I thought you'd be asleep already."
"I can't sleep," muttered Daenerys.
"What's on your mind?"
"Why do you think I have something on my mind?"
Robb laughed. "You said you couldn't sleep." He turned and faced her. "Is it the child?" he asked worriedly.
Dany sighed. Why was it always the child these days? It isn't fair to be irritated at Robb though. He was stuck in his solar for most of the day and as a prospective father, his thoughts would go to their child first. "The child is fine," Daenerys said to him reassuringly. "Soon I will feel him or her move."
"That will be months away wouldn't it?"
Daenerys nodded sadly. "I wish I didn't find out I am with child so early. When I spoke to Maester Luwin, I expected him to tell me that it was monthly pains." It had been unfortunate that she suffered moon blood pains every month. Pregnant though! What was worse was that the dreaded morning sickness hadn't ended. In fact, it only worsened. Every morning at the crack of dawn, Dany would run off to vomit into her chamber pot. Sometimes the nausea would last all day.
"We'll have many children…" murmured Robb, his eyes fluttering shut. "Plenty of sons and daughters…" Daenerys almost shuddered at the thought of it. She had once dreamed of having a dozen children too, but after seven weeks of rejecting a number of tasty dishes, vomiting and experiencing nausea, having about a dozen sons and daughters was less appealing.
Dany watched Robb swiftly drift off into the realm of dreams. If only she could too. She'd tell Robb her fears tomorrow. Daenerys turned and blew out the small, flickering, yellow flame of the candle. Maester Luwin had a saying: every day was a fresh, brand new day.
She really hoped it was true.
Jojen is kind of hinting for Dany to join a motherhouse in case it wasn't clear. I've decided that I'll start Part 4 with a Domeric POV and I have room in the remaining few chapters of Part 3 for a chapter in the POV of a Northern lord. Tell me the northern lords/ladies' POV (or a specific lord or lady's POV) you really want to read in and I'll write it in the POV of either the most popular choice or the most interesting.
