NOTE: I have gone back to edit the betrothals slightly, having made a hasty decision too early on that didn't fit with the narrative I have planned. Lyanna is now meant to marry Stannis, and Jaime meant to marry Lysa. All will be explained later on.
Ned did not see Robarra for over a year after he left King's Landing.
He heard the news of the birth of her child, Princess Visenya, nine months after the wedding, of course. Healthy, robust, and black of hair, with eyes of indigo-purple, the official letter proclaiming the news had reported. Robarra had written to him herself too - they exchanged letters once a month or so anyway, not that either of them had much patience with words - and she sounded delighted to be able to act as a real mother to her second daughter, where she had not been able to with the first. She hadn't mentioned it so overtly in case the letter was read by unfriendly eyes, but implied it well enough.
For the same reason, Ned was careful not to speak of Mya too much, merely mentioning that he had brought his bastard daughter back to Winterfell and that she was happy and cared for. Robarra was a little less subtle when she wrote to him of her complaints about her husband; Rhaegar was not cruel or disrespectful towards her, but was apparently still boring, distant and often away for long periods of time, either on Dragonstone or visiting Summerhall.
But she seemed happy enough, describing days spent entertaining her many friends (men and women alike) or exploring the city with her guards - making her very popular amongst the common folk - or going out riding and hunting. From what it sounded, she was a ray of lightness and fun in the Mad King's court; a distraction from the burnings and fear of Aerys' next fit of delusion.
Nonetheless, when the news of a tourney at Harrenhal reached Winterfell, it was soon followed by a very excited letter from the crown prince's wife, who absolutely insisted that he had to attend. Ned was going to go anyway, but smiled to read the words. He did miss her, his closest friend and constant companion since he was eight years old.
And it would be a relief to get away from Father and his increasing hints that Ned would be a good match with Barbrey Ryswell, to soothe her father Lord Rodrik's ruffled feathers after Brandon's southron betrothal was announced. Ned knew full well what had gone on between Barbrey and Brandon, and did not fancy taking the girl to wife knowing full well that she was in love with his brother and likely would carry on sharing his bed after their wedding.
All the Stark children travelled south to the God's Eye (though Mya, of course, had to stay behind due to her distinctive looks). Ned was the only one of them used to travelling this far at all, let alone so far south. Lyanna was in fine spirits, excited to be leaving the North for the first time, seeming to have put the fact she would soon be meeting her betrothed Lord Stannis stubbornly out of mind. Benjen, ten years old, thought it was all a great adventure, whilst Brandon looked every bit the wild northern lord, with his sharp smiles and intense stare.
Robarra was there to greet the Starks as they rode into the packed tourney grounds, surrounded by a retinue, of course, but with a beaming smile on her face.
"Ned!" He had scarcely dismounted before she had embraced him, thankfully not for too long but enough to make his siblings snicker amongst themselves. She never was one for formalities; the one blessing was that none of her attendants seemed to find this unusual or inappropriate, seeing how she acted this way around everyone she liked.
"Princess," He replied rather dryly, to which she pulled a face.
"Oh don't start," She turned to his siblings who had also dismounted. "You must be Brandon,"
"Aye," His brother was wearing his wolffish grin, appraising her in a way that Ned knew was designed to irritate him and bowing swiftly. "A pleasure to meet you at last, Princess Robarra,"
"You never said your brother was so handsome, Ned," She cast an amused look over her shoulder.
"It's not something I spend a lot of time thinking about, oddly,"
Brandon laughed, though shot a rather pointed, calclulating look his way that Ned misliked. He would have to ask about that, later.
"Stop making a fool of yourself, Brandon," Lyanna elbowed her way around him, curtseying rather too briefly to Robarra and holding her gaze rather defiantly. "Lyanna Stark - I hope you live up to your reputation,"
Robarra laughed loudly at that. Of course those two would get along. Ned's friend was better at appearing an acceptable lady than his sister - mainly because Robarra got along easily with most people, rather than being deliberately abrasive - though just as bad underneath.
"Oh, I'm glad we're to be goodsisters," She replied approvingly, missing how Lyanna scowled at the reminder of her betrothal. "Stannis needs someone to make him laugh and liven up a little. What have you told them of me, Ned?"
"That you get drunk far too easily," He replied. "And how you are normally the loudest person in any room,"
"Charming," Brandon snorted, shaking his head, but Robarra smiled widely.
"I've missed how you tell me the truth. I'd almost forgotten, amongst all these flatterers and lickspittles," She waved a hand at her distracted retinue.
The conversation went on a little longer, but the Starks had to make camp before it got dark, and Robarra was needed elsewhere. Ned and Brandon were to share a tent, Lyanna and Ben in another, and before he could ask about the odd look his brother had sent his way earlier, Brandon got there first.
"You sly dog," He chuckled, clapping a hand on Ned's shoulder. "Why - how - did you never say a word? No wonder you're so attached to little Mya... If I had got the lovely Lady Robarra with child, I wouldn't have been able to keep my mouth shut," He took Ned's grimace for disagreement. "Some on, Ned, there's no mistaking those blue eyes and black hair,"
Ned realised then that he was unable to keep up the lie any longer. Brandon would be truly insufferable around his friend for the rest of their stay here, unless he told the truth.
"Yes, Mya is Robarra's child," He said. "But I am not the father. Nothing... improper went on between us," She hugged him more often than was proper, perhaps, though she did that with everyone. And the late night visits to his chambers would not look good if anyone had found out, but they had never done anything more than talk and laugh together.
"What?" Brandon looked confused. "Who is the father, then?"
"Some blacksmith from the Vale - but you cannot tell a soul, Brandon, or the king will have her head,"
"I won't," He waved him off. "Why did you bother bringing the girl home, then, if she's not even yours? Not that I don't like Mya," He added quickly as Ned's eyebrow rose, then continued rather slyly. "Do you wish she was yours?"
"No," He said flatly.
"Are you sure? Lady Robarra was certainly very familiar earlier,"
"She was familiar with you as well - and most other people,"
"Not like she was with you," His brother chuckled. "Trust that I know more about women than you, Ned, when I say that that girl wants to fuck you,"
"Stop it," Ned grumbled. "She's married, to the crown prince no less,"
"Is that the only thing stopping you?"
"I meant that you shouldn't speak about her that way," Although he'd say that even if she wasn't married.
Brandon grinned wolffishly.
"So she wants to fuck you," He said. "And you're in love with her,"
At that point, Ned could not even be bothered to correct him. Perhaps he couldn't be bothered to lie again.
He felt his brother's eyes on him that evening at the feast. Robarra was sat with her husband for the meal of course, at the high table, but afterwards, and after she had made her rounds greeting and charming everyone she could, came down to drink with the Starks. Soon she was well into her cups, grabbing Ned's shoulder for support as she laughed, dragging him up to dance with her, though she danced with Brandon, Lyanna and Benjen as well.
She wasn't the only girl Ned danced with that night. Feeling rather sorry for Brandon's betrothed Catelyn, who was watching as his brother heavily flirted with the stunningly beautiful Ashara Dayne, he offered her a dance, to which she smiled gratefully. Catelyn was a lovely dancer; thankfully Brandon seemed to realise his mistake afterwards and came to take her from Ned for another dance.
That left Ned with Lady Ashara, who to his surprise accepted his polite invitation to dance gladly. No sneering refusal, no grudging acceptance, just a genuine, beautiful smile.
"It was kind of you to ask Lady Catelyn to dance," She said. "I do hope she didn't get the wrong impression - your brother is very determined when he wants something. He didn't need any encouragement from me,"
"Apologies," Ned said. "Brandon is used to getting what he wants,"
"He gave off that air, yes," She smiled rather apologetically. "Very dashing, yet something of the wolf of your sigil about him. About all of you Starks, actually, though you are far more quiet. I mean that only as a compliment - you're better company than your brother," She smiled. "It's a rare thing, to find a man who would rather ask me questions than gawp gormlessly or just talk about himself,"
"I haven't got much to say about myself, my lady," He replied as an honest explanation, but she just laughed.
"You're more interesting than you give yourself credit, Eddard,"
He was quite sorry when it was time to change partners as the dance demanded, particularly when he ended up with Lyanna, who had a face like thunder.
"He's awful," His sister shot a derisive look at Stannis Baratheon. "No sense of humour, deathly dull, painfully stubborn and far too pricky. You can't let me marry him, Ned, I'll throw myself into Shipbreaker Bay out of sheer boredom. Gods, I wish his sister had been born a man,"
"Robarra always said the same," He grimaced. "About Stannis, not being born a man," He could imagine it now; six and a half feet tall, even louder and more brash, likely flirting with every single woman in the room, and being able to get away with it too, with five bastard children not one. And Lord of Storm's End; gods, it was likely best for everyone she had been born a woman instead.
"Could you not talk to Father?" His sister implored. "Brandon just laughed me off, and Ben's too young. I'll marry whoever he wants me to in the North - hells, I'd marry Stannis if he was from near Winterfell. I don't want to be so far from home, trapped in some stifling southron castle trussed up in silk and satin,"
"I could try," Ned said. "He won't listen, though. He wants the Baratheon alliance too much," Curse his father's southron ambitions, sending Lyanna so far away.
"But you're friends with Lady Robarra," She protested, though knew as well as he did that it was hopeless. "Isn't that enough?"
"Sadly not,"
After that first night, the tourney unfolded in all its glory. Young Jaime Lannister was named to the Kingsguard aged fifteen, an appointment that had infuriated his father Lord Tywin enough to leave his long-held position as Hand of the King. Hoster Tully was not particularly pleased either, seeing as there had been talks of his daughter Lysa being betrothed to Ser Jaime. The boy himself did not even look particularly pleased as the king ordered him back to King's Landing to guard the queen and Prince Viserys; surely fifteen was too young for the Kingsguard? From what Ned remembered of Jaime Lannister, he was arrogant and reckless besides.
The joust took place over five days and was thrilling to watch. Ned had little love for tourneys, and rarely competed himself - he was a decent swordsman and would rather enter the melee than the lists - but the standard here was so high that it was impossible to not be enthralled.
Prince Rhaegar defeated four knights of the Kingsguard in the last tilts, and everyone cheered, nobles and commoners alike, as he was presented with a crown of blue winter roses on the end of his lance to present to name a lady in the crowd Queen of Love and Beauty. Robarra - clapping and whooping despite her mild dislike of her husband - began to rise to her feet in anticipation.
But Rhaegar's horse went right past his wife.
Ned saw her eyes widen for a brief second, but barely had time to process this before the prince came to a stop in front of Lyanna and offer her the crown of roses instead. Robarra sat down with painful finality, immediately beginning what looked like a hilarious conversation with the lady at her side, whilst Ned's sister quietly took the crown from the end of the lance and set it down on her lap, looking more subdued than he had ever seen her.
To everyone else, it looked like Robarra wasn't bothered at all by this. She spent the rest of the day laughing and joking like nothing was amiss, but Ned knew better. The fact Rhaegar shamed his wife was one thing, let alone so publically, to such a young girl, the daughter of a Lord Paramount, who was betrothed to her brother no less. Robarra would not be letting this go easily.
He was right. His friend came to him later on, a whirl of red skirts and Baratheon fury.
"How dare he?" She was never shrill in her anger, her roar more intimidating than many men when her temper got the better of her. "That empty-headed, cold-hearted, silver-haired fool. Has he no respect for his wife? Clearly not - today showed that perfectly clear. Shaming me in public, for my best friend's sister, my brother's betrothed. If he wasn't the prince and his mad father wasn't looming over my shoulder waiting for me to put a toe out of line, I'd string him from the battlements of his own keep myself!"
"Prince Rhaegar acted inappropriately - " Ned started carefully.
"Inappropriately," She scoffed. "He acted like a stripling squire led by his cock, for a child of four-and-ten no less. Imagine if that had been me, making such a public display of my affections for another man? I'd have lost my head by noon! Look at me - I could have any man attending this tourney, if I chose to. Shall I let him walk into his tent to see me being fucked by ten handsome knights? See how he likes it,"
Ned couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him at that. Robarra's glare turned to him, but despite her anger, her lips twitched.
"Stop laughing, Ned, I'm serious," She tried to snap at him, but was half-laughing herself by this point. "Why is it always when I'm angry that you choose to not look so grim?"
"Do you even listen to what comes out your mouth when you're angry?" He shook his head.
She laughed openly at that.
"You have to admit it would be worth losing my head for, just to see the look on Rhaegar's face," She said. "Maybe he'd actually show some emotion for once. Now, who would I choose... Jaime Lannister, for sure - his uncle Gerion isn't bad either. Then... Jason Mallister, Brynden Tully and Oberyn Martell. Your brother Brandon too," She smiled slyly.
"Please stop," Ned grimaced, but couldn't keep a straight face for long. "The last thing you need is for your next child to be born with bright red hair - or my brother's face. Targaryens don't have grey eyes,"
"Grey isn't so different from lilac," Robarra looked at him for a second too long. He raised an eyebrow in question and she sighed, never one to hold her thoughts back. "I was just thinking... why couldn't you have been my husband instead?"
He blinked. Of everything he had expected her to say, it wasn't that.
"Oh, don't look like that," She smiled a little sadly, shaking her head. "Not many people can make me laugh when I'm ranting and raging, Ned. Few men would put up with me at all - my husband clearly doesn't. You're grim-faced and too serious by half, but you're one of the kindest men I've ever met, kinder than me by far. Your future wife will be lucky to have you,"
It was usually Robarra who initiated any kind of contact between them, but before Ned was sure of what he was doing, he had enveloped her in his arms. She was near as tall as he was but still sank into his embrace, likely grateful that he couldn't see her face.
"Ned, where is - oh," They both sprung apart as the entrance to the tent opened, revealing a wide-eyed Lyanna. To her credit, his sister recovered quickly, looking rather abashed. "Lady Robarra. I was just looking for you, actually. I wanted to - to apologise for what happened today. I swear, I barely even spoke to Prince Rhaegar, and there was no hint of anything untoward, I was as surprised as you are, and I - I - " She broke off. "I'm not good at apologies. But I like you, and didn't want you to think badly of me. Here," She thrust a rather wilted crown of winter roses at the older girl. "I don't want it. It should be yours. The prince is a fool for not giving it to you when lots of men here would kill to be your husband,"
Here she shot a brief, sly look at Ned, who glared at her, wishing he could cuff her round the head without being too obvious about it. Robarra didn't seem to notice, taking the crumpled crown. Despite himself, he was glad his sister had come to apologise, not that she had anything to apologise for.
"I probably shouldn't have called him a fool," Lyanna finished, realising who she was insulting.
"I don't mind," Roberta chuckled. "Ned's just listened to me call him much worse than that. You don't have to apologise either, it wasn't your fault. I don't particularly want the crown either, though," She held it out towards the open brazier questioningly.
Lyanna shrugged.
"Go ahead,"
She let go. Both women smiled as the roses shrivelled up and blackened in the flames.
Sorry for the confusion of changing Lyanna to be betrothed with Stannis - I jumped the gun on that one and have gone back to edit it out as it did not fit with my plans for this story and I couldn't make it work.
Anyway, please let me know what you think!