Chapter 2: Myths and Legends.

"I grew up with soldiers, I learned to die a long time ago" - Ned Stark

It had been a week since their arrival at Rostine Inn and although their stay had been comfortable, the fact that no one had reached out to them yet was bothersome. Rumour had it that there was a hunting game to be held the coming week. Sadly the King hadn't keeled over from his excessive weight gain over the years, his whoring ways good for at least something, keeping him fit to a degree.

Nevertheless they weren't used to being sitting ducks or left in the dark. If the wrong person were to know about their presence before the opportune time, they'd surely not survive.

Daena was sitting near the fire in the hearth, candlelight casting the room in an orange glow. It was a bit colder here, a familiar cold that she found to have missed. She contemplated what had led to their recent return. The missive that Jon Arryn had sent was reduced to ashes after having read it, but she could still recall every single word.

"The seed is strong, but wasn't planted. Madness will reign. The flames need to burn once more."

At first she had panicked when she saw who it had been from. When they had returned to King's Landing the previous time, Jon Arryn had found out about their identity. It had cost Daena a lot of begging and pleading, in various states of undress and positions, to ensure that the old man kept his trap shut. Panic had set in and she had to act fast. If they ran, all hell could break loose. Having him as her ally would be the better option, especially given his high position as Hand. However, she knew were it not for The Lord of Whisper's fascination with all things Targaryen, that Lord Arryn could still have talked.

Darion had left a few minutes prior with a letter of her own to be delivered into the hands of Varys. She still remembered the bald, robed man from her days in the castle. Even though she was naught more than a servant, she missed her time there. Her Lady was kind and had become one of her closest friends. They had shared secrets, heartbreak and her Lady had made sure that she was well taken care of in all aspects of her life.

Daena shook her head, knowing that tears usually followed that memory. Darion needed to be swift in his delivering before going on his merry way again. With that thought she went to bed. The morrow held new challenges and she might just have to visit the Streets of Silk.

...

Chataya's brothel was just as she remembered; albeit the prostitutes were a bit more adventurous. "Ah, Lady Sand, it has been a while. Finally decided to come work for me have you?" Littlefinger. He had aged rather well since she had last seen him.

"I go by Lady Mayor now Lord Baelish. It would serve you well to remember that," she replied as she studied the jewels that adorned her arms intently. Such luxury was something she did not have for most of her life and she found herself gazing admiringly at such expensive delicacies rather frequently. Now that she could afford it.

He nodded and gestured for her to follow him. The walls had ears in King's Landing and the matter they were going to discuss was rather sensitive in nature.

She had met Lord Baelish around six summers prior, upon their return to King's Landing. The man had offered her a position at his brothel, one she had declined upon noting the way he eyed her children. Nevertheless, he had the perfect set up to catch wind of all the Lord's throughout the whole of Westeros, a powerful ally indeed. She had taken a great risk upon saying that she was a spy for the Martell family - not so much a lie as a bent truth. But the man simply laughed and invited her in. That night they had played a game of tell me yours and I'll tell you mine and a strange friendship had been forged.

That's not to say that she was not careful as to what she revealed to him. On the contrary, she contemplated her words more so with him. He was a man with ambition, and ambition was dangerous.

"I trust you've heard of the rumours regarding the King's children?" He said as he led her though the brothel. Strangely she felt at ease here. The vibrant colours and women without inhibition reminded her of her childhood in Dorne.

"Yes, that is why I decided to pay you a visit. I've heard of the Kingslayer's spawn. If I'm to understand correctly that is why Arryn had an unfortunate illness?" He offered wine as she spoke which was declined with a shake of her head. The spicy aroma of it drifted through the air. Dornish. Marylean would love that, she decided as she sank down into a plush red chair

"There has been rumours of it, yes," she nodded and watched as Petyr sat opposite her. A silence followed, both contemplating what they had just discussed. She felt happiness where others would feel disgust. If it weren't for this news, they would probably never have returned. For once, she didn't harbor as much hatred for the Lannisters as she used to. Their folly meant that almost seventeen summers on the run could finally come an end.

"Eddard also knows," Petyr revealed with a glint in his eyes.

At that she blanched. Eddard. He was one of five people who knew her most well guarded secret, Hand of the King now. He was the talk of the town; the newly appointed stoic Lord Hand. She hadn't seen him in nearly sixteen years, but his name sent a shiver down her spine. Fear. Fear of being discovered. He had warned her about returning and she had already defied him once. Will he tell Robert?

No. He was a Stark. Their honour was legendary. Then again, legends and myths were often one in the same.

Catelyn

Catelyn was sitting at the window, gazing at the moon high in the sky, not wanting to return to the cold bed. She found it uncomfortable and served as a reminder that Ned was not with her. She missed him terribly. Her world was crumbling around her piece by piece and he was not here in all his stoic glory to fix it.

Bran was alive and awake, but he'd never walk again. Her sweet, kind hearted son that wanted to be knighted will forever be dependent on others. She had wept when she heard the news, and wished that she could somehow trade places with her child.

Robb grew more distant and cold as the days passed, even while she had still been there next to him. Guilt consumed her. No doubt the responsibilities of being a Lord weighed heavily on him. He might favour her colouring, but his mannerisms screamed Stark. Catelyn found comfort in that, her son took after his father and would be all right.

She even found that she missed Jon a little, although she would never admit to it. The boy had served as a constant reminder of Ned's infidelity throughout the years. In truth she was jealous. If the boy took after his mother, she would've even gone as far to say that she would be warm towards him. But no, the resemblance between Jon and Ned was uncanny. Were Ned younger they could have passed for twins.

Throughout the years she had hoped, prayed that, even if it were a girl, one of her children would bare that same resemblance. Her prayers went unanswered. She knew that she was the reason he went to the wall, her bitterness drove him to join the Nights Watch. Partly. She may not have held much if any love for the boy, but she could see the blossoming romance between him and Heleyna Cassel. They had been smitten, but their love was not to be. He was a bastard with nothing to offer while she had been betrothed to the Bolton heir. She suspected that was what had given him the final shove he needed.

Nevertheless, his presence would've been easier to bare in the absence of his father's and he could've been the shoulder that Robb needed to lean on. Rather his bastard brother than Theon. His womanizing ways would've surely turned worse when she left.

Catelyn sighed and closed her eyes, thinking back on her last night in King's Landing, a sad smile tugging at the corner of her lips. There had been an urgency to Ned's touches and he barely let her rest between bouts of making love. Tired and spent she had rode away again that morning, a familiar ache between her legs.

Not that she was complaining. After their disastrous start, she had gradually warmed to her husband. When he had returned she did not touch him for a year, too mad to even bare the thought of letting him near her again. It was her then Lady's Maid that had made her see reason and given her advice - do not give him reason to stray once more.

Now, she just couldn't help to compare it to the night they spend together when Robb had been made or before he had went to repress the Greyjoy Rebellion. He was saying goodbye.

Eddard

Sneaking around in King's Landing was not one of Ned's favourite pass times - if he had any. He found a letter greeting him upon waking this morn.

Rostine Inn - the sun is rising.

He didn't recognize the handwriting and although he was apprehensive at first, he decided to pay the inn a visit, especially after catching a glimpse of a tall, dark skinned and black haired woman in the Street of Silk yesterday. He had to know if his suspicions were correct and if yes, what in the hell that woman was thinking? Another problem for him to deal with.

It was past dusk now and he had finally managed to leave the city behind, Ice his only protection. Rosby Road was at the Old Gate and thankfully near the more civilized part of the city. He galloped along the road, passing small farms as he went until he came upon the town of Rosby.

It was nighttime now and the only source of light came from the moon, round and silver in the sky. He looked at it for a few seconds longer, knowing that his wife and children were met with the same sight.

Rostine Inn was placed at the edge of Rosby, a couple of leagues east of the road. The inn itself was lavish and probably cost the inhabitants an arm and a leg. He dismounted when a stable boy appeared to take the horse away. In the upper level of the keep, light flickered. The great wooden doors of the inn were partly opened, candles lighting the foyer.

The innkeeper glanced up at his entry. "Welcome to Rostine Inn my lord, where the finest accommodations awaits you." Ned simply looked at the short stout man with graying hair, dressed impeccably even this late. Southerners, he would never understand them.

He paid for one of the smaller rooms near the staircase and bided his time. Even innkeepers needed to relieve themselves from time to time.

Ned sat in the room for quite some time before slipping out. The registration book didn't have any signatures beside himself, which meant that if she were here, the upper level would house her. The stairs creaked slightly as he ascended. At the top he scanned the shut doors. One emitted light. He contemplated knocking, but thought better of it. If it were her, he'd need to catch her off guard, without any masks. He opened the door and saw the woman sitting in front of a desk, black hair unbound, writing.

"Daena."

Daena

She did not expect this. After all these years Ned Stark still seemed to catch her off guard. His voice was deep and gravelly as he spoke, still looming in her doorway. His hair was longer now, a couple of grey streaks within. Even though he was older now, she still considered him to be comely, for a Northman that is.

"You came back."

When words seemed to fail her momentarily, she nodded and gestured for him to sit. He opted to move closer and closed the door, still standing.

"Lord Stark, or is it Lord Hand now? You seem to have me at a disadvantage here. What on earth brings you to these parts? " Keep it pleasant Daena, she reminded herself, he helped you once.

"Save the pleasantries Lady Sand, you are supposed to be in Essos," blunt as always Ned spoke, his voice low and controlled.

"Oh, my Lord, I came back again is what you are missing. After nine years of traveling, King's Landing beckoned us once more. Granted, the Keep never saw me again but the children..."

"Were supposed to be safe. Damn you Daena, what were you thinking? If the wrong person grew suspicious of the girl all our efforts would've been in vain."

"You're mistaken Eddard. I've done nothing that wasn't expected of me - running during the sack of King's Landing! Hiding in plain sight for almost a year before being discovered by you thankfully, traveling for years. Nine years Eddard, away from home with two girls to care for. Have you any idea how hard that was? Yes, we came back. Allies needed to be forged, plans made. It was a bit too soon and after what.." She caught herself mid sentence. This was Robert's friend. He may have helped her but his loyalties lied with him. No matter how frustrated or scared she was of what his presence meant, she had to remain calm and collected.

Lowering her voice, she attempted to speak to him in a more civilized manner. "We remained for four years before leaving for the Summer Isles. The time is near now, we both know it. The Lannister's sins will come to light and then her revelation will be made."

"Daena you should leave. I gave you, them, a chance at life."

"Yes, that was oh so honourable of you Lord Stark, but she is my responsibility. I raised her. So don't you dare stand there and and tell me what I should have done. I did what was asked of me, out of loyalty and love. Thank the gods she took more after her mother, it made hiding so much easier." Daena didn't realize her voice had risen yet again to such a degree. She couldn't believe this man. How dare he tell her how to raise the children!

She looked up as the door was opened, Rhayna in the doorway. "Mother?"

Eddard

When the door opened, Ned swung around, hand gripping the hilt of his sword. Since his arrival in King's Landing he felt himself growing more paranoid by the day.

"Mother?" The girl was the spitting image of Daena, tall, slender with black hair and obsidian eyes. She was dressed in her robes, candle in hand.

"Rhayna, dear. This is Lord Stark. You remember him, yes?" Rhayna nodded.

"Vaguely," she said in a soft voice. "You gave me treats and let mother keep the baby,. I was five name days old and you let me ride on your horse once, before making us leave our home."

Ned nodded, surprised that she remembered so much. He felt ashamed however when she said that. Back then he had also been young and had been itching to go back North. Eddard knew now that he should've stayed longer, perhaps even have kept in touch.

She moved to stand in front of him, and they were almost eye level he noted.

It was true, he had made them leave their home. If Robert or Tywin were to know of the baby Daena had in her care, the Mountain would've been set loose once more. He despised Robert for allowing that and the fact that he hadn't arrived at the Red Keep sooner, still haunted him. So many lives could've been spared. The queen, princess, all the children. When the rumours of a Lost Princess started flying about, he searched like a man possessed. It took a whole year before he found them, well The Master Of Whispers had.

Apparently some of the people recognized Daena, one of the maids in the castle, in the countryside with a babe. To this day he was grateful for being at the right place at the right time. Varys had been younger then and not quite as skilled at controlling all his little birds.

He immediately went to the farm, a dilapidated building hidden in the woods. The conditions he found them to be living in were harsh, no food, torn clothes and a barely-there roof. A black haired, brown skinned, dirty little girl greeted him at the door, knife in hand. A tall young woman had appeared behind her, barefooted, with the same colouring.

Upon realizing who he was, she yanked the little girl inside and attempted to close the door in his face. It took the remainder of that day to convince her that he was no threat and that she had to leave. He had arranged for Daena and the girls to depart that very night, off to Essos.

"Rhayna, go back to your room. Lord Stark and I are reminiscing about old times." Rhayna nodded her head and glanced at him once more before departing. "She thought you were her father once. When I asked why she said it was because you gave her treats and a ride on the horse."

Eddard didn't know how to respond to that so he opted to stay silent.

Just when he thought they were alone once more another figure appeared in the doorway and spoke in a haunting voice. "Good evening my Lord, Marylean Targaryen, Princess of the Seven Kingdoms."