A/N: Sorry it took me sooo long to update. I had finals and I was busy with that. The new semester started, too. Anyway let's get on with this.

Disclaimer: GRRM owns all.

Chapter 35 Arya V and Sansa VI

Arya

"Come with me, Lya, we are to meet your uncle and cousin now," Arya bid her eldest daughter. Lyanna was sitting on the bed in her and Gendry's chambers in the Great Keep. Arya had just helped her into a dress of deep green, purple frills outlined the collar and wrists, and braided her chestnut hair down the back. It was certainly an intricate dress, more intricate than anything Arya would ever consider wearing. Most days Arya would just enjoy wearing a tunic and breeches, much like she did upon the River Road. She hated the way dresses clung to the body, the way you could not feel free because of them. But, she wore them for Gendry and he never did specify whether or not they had to be ostentatious.

"Where are we going?" Her daughter asked. When Arya looked at Lyanna, her daughter, she sometimes still cannot believe that she was a mother - and before her older sister Sansa of all people. Arya used to believe that Sansa would have at least six children before Arya ever considered marriage, but it looks like she was wrong.

"To the crypts," Arya answered, "to see your grandfather and uncle and all the Starks of old. You've been asking me to go for quite awhile. It is the only time we can with your aunt Sansa's wedding and little Edric needing my attention."

Lyanna nodded like the four-year-old girl she was. "Okay, Mummy. Are the crypts scary?"

Arya shrugged. "Not really. You're a Stark, and you should not be afraid of your home. The crypts are just as much a part of Winterfell as the godswood."

"But Ned says they're scary. He and Robert went one day by themselves."

"When did Robert go?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, they just told me. Ned says that there are scary things down there, monsters and ghosts."

Arya laughed. "Ned is lying, Lya. There are no ghosts or monsters down there. Just tombs and Kings of the North."

"Tombs?"

"Yes, tombs. It is where the dead rest."

"Oh. So Ned was lying?"

Arya nodded. "Yes, Lya, he was. He just said it to scare you, nothing more. I'll have to talk to him and Robert about them going down there. They both know they are not allowed without an adult."

"Don't get Ned in-trouble!" Lyanna pleaded. "I like him. He is nice."

"Of course you like him, Lyanna. He is your cousin."

She dangled her feet off the bed and looked at the ground. "I know." Arya noticed she couldn't even look her in the eyes. "Ned is just nice, is all." She sighed.

Gods…this cannot be. My daughter already loves her first boy, but her cousin, no doubt. Two Stark cousins are already marrying today.

Jon and Sansa were to be wed today in the godswood, Arya remembered. Jon was off with the men getting prepared for the ceremony. Sansa was with their mother, Daenerys, and Myrcella. The three "ladies" of Winterfell were jovial about preparing Sansa for her own wedding feast, after Sansa had prepared Dany's and Myrcella's. Sansa had even prepared Arya's own. Arya would have joined them, but she hated all the mushy lady stuff that would be going on. The constant talking about their husbands, doing their hair. Arya just wished to go with James and Rhaella to the crypts to visit their father and Robb on such an important day.

Arya missed them so much.

Sansa said she did not want a big wedding, but Arya knew her to be lying. It was Sansa, of course she wanted her wedding to be extravagant. Her ceremony was in the godswood, before the Heart Tree where Jon and all the Starks gods could be listening and watching. Tyrion was made the Steward of Winterfell, so he kept track of the numbers and storage. The Lords of the North and nobles would be attending the feast, Bran's men outside the gates would also be able to have a feast of their own. Many kegs of ale and casks of wine were brought from the cellars, and animals were butchered for the event.

Jon was nervous, of course. Arya was able to speak with him yesterday, and he said he had been wanting this moment for a long while, but still he was nervous. He then confided in Arya that he wasn't sure whether or not his marriage with Arianne was annulled, but Arya believed it to be. Arianne could not marry Willas unless her marriage was annulled. Arya sometimes forgot that Jon was meant to marry her for her brother's spears, just for it to all go to Stannis.

Bran had pulled a thousand men within the first section of Winterfell's walls to repel Stannis's men just in-case he decided to attack. Nobody knew the new king's intentions, but they had to be safe. Daenerys and Jon insisted that they be allowed to call the dragons in-case, but Bran shook his head no. "Stannis may see that as an act of war," Bran had told them. "All we want is peace. Just leave the beasts be." And so they did. Arya knew that if Stannis were coming to see them bend the knee - and that Gendry is retaining his lordship - than she and her family would have to leave Winterfell. Arya had never seen Storm's End, neither had her children. Now she may have to call it home.

Arya held her daughter in her arms as she walked the gravel ground of Winterfell. How she missed this place. The smell was still the same, the air was still chilly, and Arya Stark loved it all. Edric, her baby boy, was napping with Jaime and an army of midwives, so she could go to the crypts. Myrcella assured her that he'd be looked after. Edric was such a loud child, even though he was three moons old. His hair was as dark as Gendry's, his eyes were as silver as Arya's, and even his face was long like hers. The only child to look like Gendry would be Robert, who was off learning the ways of the sword with Ned. Arya offered to teach her son water dancing, but he only laughed and said that girls didn't play with swords. Arya would have to prove him wrong when he was older.

The castlefolk dipped their heads as Arya and her daughter passed by them, but she didn't know why. She was born and raised here like they were, but she figured it was because she was the Lady of Storm's End. Even though she did not like to think herself as lady of anything. Some of these castle folk may have seen her grow up as a child, Arya didn't know. Bran said that most of them were killed when Ramsay Snow sacked the castle.

Arya finally found James and Rhaella by the entrance to the crypts. James was standing there with his daughter in his arms. He was wearing just a white tunic with a silver direwolf brooch, and brown breeches. His hair was combed and had been given a trim. Yet they could not touch his trimmed beard, since the men had returned none of them had shorn them off. They were stubborn in that aspect. James at least cut his hair to just below the ear instead of the shoulder. His daughter was in a simple woolen dress of blue. Arya knew that for the wedding her mother would have a much more elaborate dress for her.

James smiled when he saw them. "Finally, Rhaella, your aunt and cousin have arrived. We have been waiting a fortnight."

"Quiet, Aurochs!" Arya snapped with a smile. "I had to dress, Lyanna."

"Aurochs, am I? What does that make you, a lady?"

"I'm not a lady!" Arya yelled.

"Sure you aren't, Lady Baratheon." He dipped his head. "Or should I say, Lady of Storm's End?"

Arya grew stern and walked towards the two direwolf statues that graced the entrance to the crypts. "I didn't want anyone to know about that," she said quietly as she opened the door. Immediately a cold wind hit her in the face, and both her daughter and niece buried their faces into Arya and James's shoulder.

She and James both stepped into the gloom, and a shiver went down Arya's spine. This is home, Arya assured herself, I am home. I shouldn't be scared of home. Her elder brother stepped forward and took a lit torch off the wall bracket. He lead the way down the spiral staircase with Rhaella perched in one arm and the torch in his free hand. His daughter was studying the stone walls around her with wide eyes. Arya followed behind him, and her daughter was touching the stone with her tiny hands.

"You have to tell Mother and the rest," James said as he moved down the stairs. "Arya, you know you must."

Arya moved down a step warily. "I know. James, I just don't want to leave Winterfell. Surely you can understand."

He snorted in response. "Of course I understand. I left Winterfell at seven-and-ten, and then had to leave again when I went back to the Wall. I understand better than most, Arya."

"I've never seen Storm's End," she told him, "and only Gendry has described it to me. Do you think I will like it?"

Lyanna and Rhaella were trading faces in the gloom, Arya could see, and she couldn't help but smile. Those two were closer than sister's, and with their new friend Casella, made a good group. Casella was Edmund's daughter, and a beauty at that. She took a liking to Arya's nephew Eddard, although the boy would never admit it. Once they were older…she knew something would come of it. They already showed emotion to each other at such a young age.

"It is rainy and gloomy," James described. "The stone is old, you could tell. It is like Winterfell in a way."

"How?"

"The stones are old and you can tell the castle was built by magic. You will like it, Arya, do not worry. Winterfell will always be home, you know you will always be welcome."

Before Arya could reply they reached the bottom of the stairs, and James helped Arya down. They stood before the long way that made the crypts. It was very dark and scary, you could not see anything before you except the faint tombs that lined each side. There were torches that lined the wall on brackets.

James raised the torch and illuminated the way before them. On each side you could see the tombs. Old men with crowns and beards lined up the crypts. Each of them were either a King of the North or Lord of Winterfell. By their feet was a direwolf and a sword on their laps. In the distance you could hear a drip of water.

"Is this the crypts, Papa?" Rhaella asked in a small voice. Arya could see her cowering into his shoulder.

James kissed her head. "Yes, Rhaella, this is the crypts. There is nothing to be scared of. They are as much a part of Winterfell as the Great Keep or the Great Hall. You shouldn't be scared of your home."

"Ned and Robert said that ghosts and monsters lived down here," Lyanna told him. "They said they ran away from a ghost."

James laughed. "Dear niece, did you believe them?"

"No!" Lyanna said defiantly. "I'm not stupid enough to believe them."

"Yeah, me too!" Rhaella echoed.

That made James laugh again. "There is nothing down here but tombs. No ghosts ,nor monsters."

After a few moments of walking he turned to face Arya. "When did our sons come to the crypts?"

Arya shrugged. "Lya told me that they came down here by themselves."

His eyes grew wide. "When? How? They aren't allowed without us."

"I know," Arya agreed. "I will have to speak with Robert about it."

"Aye, and I with Ned."

James began to walk forward and Arya followed on his side. She could see him looking around, waiving the torch around which caused the fire to flicker and follow like a snake slithering on the ground. They walked past each tomb and James would describe some the best he could.

"That is King Theon, the Hungry Wolf," he told his daughter. He pointed to the tomb with his torch. Arya turned to see the man that her father's old ward was named after. She never liked Theon Greyjoy, but…she didn't like to think of it.

"And that is King Torrhen, the King-Who-Knelt." He pointed his torch again. They past the final King of Winter.

"Who was he?" Rhaella asked.

"He was the last King of the North before your uncle Robb," James explained to her. Arya could see Lyanna listening, too. "When Aegon the Conquerer claimed Westeros with his dragons, the north was the only part of the realm left to stand against him. The north could be held at the neck, and for years before the First Men held off the Andals at that point. But, of course, having three dragons makes everything easier. Something your mother will agree with, I'm sure. When Aegon moved North, King Torrhen called his banners."

"What happened to him?" Lyanna asked now.

"He bent the knee to Aegon," Arya explained now. "He bent the knee and gave up his crown. Ever since then he has been known as the King-Who-Knelt."

They neared the end of the crypts, where Arya knew her grandfather, uncle, aunt, father, and Robb would be at. She felt her chest constricting as if it were in a vice, but no tears threatened her eyes. Arya glanced over and saw James grow quiet…quiet and solemn like his personality.

He moved the torch to illuminate Rickard Stark's tomb. "This is your great-grandfather, Rhaella. His name was Rickard Stark. He was the Lord of Winterfell before Uncle Bran, and before your uncle Robb and your grandfather."

Arya saw a man with a stone face and a long beard. He looked strong according to the stone likeness. Arya moved with James who passed now to Brandon Stark. "This is your great-uncle Brandon." He announced. "He was Lord Rickard's eldest son, and was supposed to be the Lord of Winterfell. My father said he was a strong man, and I wanted to be like him." James shook his head. "I was foolish to believe that."

They moved past Brandon towards Lyanna Stark. A woman that Arya had been compared to so much in her youth. She admired her in some way, and loved her name. She decided to name her first daughter after her.

James smiled and turned back to Arya. "This is your namesake, Sweet Lya. This is your great-aunt Lyanna. Our father never liked to speak of her."

"Why?" Rhaella asked.

James looked at his daughter. "Gave him too much grief, Rhaella. He loved Lyanna so much, and it pained him a lot when she passed."

"Isn't she Uncle Jon's mama?" asked Lya.

"Yes she is," Arya told her. "I was compared to her in my youth, and she was said to be very beautiful."

"That she was," said James as they moved past her tomb. "According to grandmother you look a lot like her, Little Lyanna."

Arya could see the pride on her daughter's face and the smile that was there, too. Arya and James fell silent as they finally made their way to Lord Eddard Stark's tomb. They both stood in-front of the tomb, side-by-side, as they just stared at their father's likeness in the gloom. The light off the torch illuminated some of his face, and it made it look as if it was alive.

Nobody said a word, and both Arya and James were very quiet. In the darkness she just stared at her father's face.

Finally James did. "Do we say something? Are we supposed to?"

"I'm not sure," Arya admitted, "but I think we are supposed to."

Arya heard him exhale before he said, "This is your grandfather, Rhaella. This is Eddard Stark, your brother's namesake. He was a good man, a good father, and a good husband. I'm sad you did not get to meet him." He sighed. "My father would have loved you." James looked back to Lyanna. "All of you."

Her daughter smiled as they now moved past their father's tomb. It gave Arya too much grief to see her father's face again, and James even more so. Lyanna looked at the tomb with wide eyes as they passed by it. Arya said a small good-bye to her father before they made their way to Robb.

Arya and James stood before Robb's tomb, with their daughters in their arms. James just stared in silence, as did Arya. Robb's likeness was very well carved. He was standing proudly, grasping a sword hilt with one hand and Grey Wind's fur with another. Robb's direwolf was at his feet, the fur was intricately carved. Robb's face was carved well, his auburn hair was as long as it had been when he was a king, and his beard was also carved in. Upon his head was the crown he'd worn in life.

"And this is your uncle Robb," James announced when they arrived at this tomb, who was right next to their father. "He was the last King in the North, Rhaella, and a good man. Robb…"

Arya could see how much it pained him to speak of Robb, so she spoke for him. "Robb was a good lad," Arya told her daughter and niece. Now they gave her their full attention. She could see Rhaella listening over James's shoulder. "Once, him and James brought me, Bran, and Sansa to the crypts. When we were down there, a ghost jumped out and scared us. Aunt Sansa took off running, Bran whimpered behind Robb's leg, but I punched the ghost."

Rhaella giggled. "Who was the ghost?"

Arya smiled. "It was just your uncle Jon covered in flour. I found that out when I punched him in the belly."

"Is that true, Papa?" Rhaella asked.

James nodded. "Very true, Rhaella. Jon still talks about it until this day." He grunted and looked around the crypt, waiving around the torch like a beacon of light. "I think we have seen all there is to see down here, Arya. We should return to the courtyard. Sansa's wedding will be in the afternoon, and you know we cannot be late to that. We'll never hear the end of it."

"Of course. And we have to get dressed, see that our boys are ready on time…"

"Yes, of course. Now let's leave this place."

They made their way back to the staircase, and as Arya walked up each step, following James with Lyanna in her arms, she could not help but think about Storm's End. Thoughts of leaving Winterfell made her sad, sadder then really anything in her life at the moment. Her children (And herself, admittingly) had been at their happiest since arriving here, a lot happier than when they lived in King's Landing, sitting upon James's council. How those days now felt like a fleeting memory. Nobody ever liked to speak about it.

Arya cleared her throat as James neared the top, still holding the flickering torch in his hand. "James…"

He grunted as he climbed a step. "Yes, Arya?"

"About Storm's End…when do you think I should tell everyone?"

"I'd tell them as soon as possible, Arya. You know you have to, and you know that once Stannis arrives he will tell Gendry to return down South."

"I know, I know. It is just that I do not want to leave Winterfell, you understand."

He snorted back a laugh, making the flame flicker. "I understand better than most, I suppose. I left Winterfell at seventeen, never looking back. At first I missed it, I missed you all, but you get used to it after a time. Soon you stop counting the days and you start looking forward. You will always think of your family, of Winterfell, but you will adjust. I had to adjust to being King, and, well, we all must face our fears, as Father used to say."

Lyanna was slumped against Arya's shoulder, as she now was standing next to James. Rhaella was slumped against his shoulder, too, but she was not asleep. "James…will you help me tell them? I know Mother will take it hard."

"Sure, Arya. But…it is best that it comes from you instead of me. Before the wedding, you must tell everyone. It is something you must face, little sister."

Arya hated when he called her that. She wasn't little anymore, she was married with three children, just like him. But in the end she did something she'd never expect. It was as if someone was controlling her. She leaned up to press a kiss to her brother's cheek, something she had never done in life. "Thank you, James. For helping me out."

He smiled in the gloom. Arya could only see it through the light the fire let out. "Anytime, Arya."

They finally reached the top and opened the door, sending bright light into Arya's eyes. The light blinded her, and the children scowled when they finally reached Winterfell's courtyard. Arya bid James good-bye, as she had to find Robert and get him ready for the wedding. All of her finest clothing - and her children's clothing as well - were left behind in King's Landing, and so Lady Catelyn had some made for them just for the wedding. Fine silk and embroidery was hard to come by in the north, as the ostentatious culture could be found in the south. But somehow they had managed.

Arya found her son in the practiceyard with Eddard, both had just finished sparring. Lyanna had went off with Rhaella so they could play together, Arya could allow at least that much. She didn't know how much time they had left in Winterfell together, as a family. Remember how it looked, remember how Winterfell felt. You won't see it for years.

Robert and Ned were sweating, panting, and drinking water from skins. Robert was five, Ned four, but it looked as if they had been doing this for years. Ser Edmund was off to the side with Jon, both were talking. Beside Ser Edmund was his daughter Casella, looking beautiful in a dress of sea foam green. It brought out her eyes. Ned's lady love, of course he would find one at only four. It was as if it was meant to be.

Arya walked up to them and dipped her head. Ser Edmund and Jon broke off from their conversation and smiled. "Lady Baratheon," said Ser Edmund with a dip of his head. "How fares things?"

Not well. Stannis is coming to Winterfell, I'll have to leave my home for a place I've never been to. I'll have to hear my children cry as they leave their family and all they've ever known. Things couldn't be better. "They fare well," she lied. Edmund only nodded, but Jon saw the lie in her eyes. He always knew Arya best. Jon shook his head, but Arya asked, "How has my son done today in sparring? How does he fare?"

Ser Edmund crossed his arms. "Robert is a natural. He will be a great swordsmen, or…hammermen, I guess, when he grows strong."

"That is good to hear. Gendry looks forward for the castellan in Stor - I mean, he looks forward to showing him how to use a hammer."

Ser Edmund gave her a puzzled look, and replied, "I'm sure he is. I know I would be if I had a son." He mussed his daughters hair. "But my Sella is a godsend, no doubt. Who has a little love for Eddard, it seems."

Casella scowled. "Papa, don't. And I don't like, Ned."

"Sure you don't," Jon quipped. He flashed her a smile. Arya could see Casella trying to hide the blush on her face. Arya had never been that way towards boys at her age, but Sansa had. Casella reminded her of a little Sansa, in a way. Suddenly she saw Sella waiving at someone, and a laugh wrung out behind her.

Arya turned to see Robert laughing and teasing Ned, hitting him playful in the shoulder. Ned turned a wave of crimson. "You like, Sella!" Robert teased. "You like her! Just tell her, Ned."

Arya could see that Eddard didn't like to be teased, but he did care for the girl. "Robert!" Arya called out to him, causing both him and Ned to turn to them.

"Yes?"

"We have to go dress for your aunt's wedding." She glanced to Jon. "Ned, come with me us. You have to dress as well."

Both boys came over but Ned quietly went over to Casella. Arya held Robert in-front of her skirts and asked Jon, "Shouldn't you be getting ready for your own wedding?"

Jon shrugged. "Sansa will take the most time. I just have to thrown on a nice doublet, some breeches, and comb out my hair. I'm meeting the men over in Bran's solar before the ceremony. You could come with us."

Arya nodded. "I'll make sure to go." She looked to Ned, and he was just talking to his little lady-love. "Ned, we must get going. Come on."

He turned to Arya and nodded. "Okay, Aunt Arya." He looked back to Casella. "Bye, Sella. I'll see you at my aunts wedding."

The girl nodded. "Okay, Ned."

Ned stood there for a second, not sure what to do next. "Hug her, you fool!" Jon yelled. "It is what she wants."

And so he did. Ned hugged her, she hugged him, and Arya couldn't help but smile. She hoped Robert found a girl like that in Storm's End. Arya wished that for her own son, and for her Edric when he came of age. After the hug, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. Jon only laughed and teased, "Look at this one. I think you have found love, Eddard."

Ned only grew embarrassed and ran over to Arya. Ser Edmund bid them farewell as well, taking his daughter along with him. Arya began to walk to the Great Keep with her son and nephew, when Jon came up beside her. "When are you going to tell them?" He asked.

"I don't know what your are talking about."

Jon sighed. "Arya, you know my meaning." He spoke in a whisper. "When are you going to tell them about Storm's End?"

Arya kept her gaze stern as she continued to walk through the courtyard. "I still don't know what you are talking about, Jon."

Jon sighed even heavier. "Arya, stop it. I know how this must make you feel, but you have a duty to Gendry and your children. You can't run away from this forever. You have to tell them before it is too late. You have to, Arya."

"I know I do!" Arya snapped, turning on him. "Will you stop reminding me, Jon! I know that I have to leave Winterfell…forever!" She could feel the sadness, maybe some tears, but she pushed them down deep inside. Arya would not cry. "I have to leave all of you, I know! How I have to tear my children from the cousins and family they love!" She noticed Jon's gaze drop to the floor. Arya felt sorry. "Jon…I'm sorry for yelling at you."

He waived away her apology. "Arya, I know. We've all been together since James's coronation - probably the only positive from his reign was that we all could see each other everyday. All I am saying is that you must tell them. Who knows?"

"James. He asked me when I went to the crypts. Rickon doesn't know, I don't think. Bran probably knows, but he has not said a word." Arya shook her head. "It is my mother who worries me the most. She…will take it hard. Sansa will, too, but Dany probably knows. Her and James talk about everything."

"Tell the men first, and then the women. Don't do it at the feast, just…wait."

"Mummy, let's go!" said Robert, with Ned standing next to him.

Arya raised a finger at him. "Just a second, Robert." She nodded at Jon. "I will. I'll tell the men first."

Jon hugged her and retracted. "Good. I'll see you later."

And with that he walked off. Arya took her nephew and Robert along to the Great Keep, so they could dress. Along the way she scolded them for going to the crypts on their own, and the boys just looked to the ground. "You both know that you are not allowed down there!" Arya snapped at them. "I know that your father, Ned, has specifically told you that you needed someone with you. Whether it is me, anyone one of your uncles or aunts, or even Grandma." Ned only nodded and looked abashed, as did Robert.

It was mid-afternoon when Arya was ready for the wedding. She had dressed in the most intricate dress she owned, which for Arya was saying much. It was grey in color, with white outlining her bodice. Arya's own mother did her hair, curling it out as she tried to when she was a child and put bows in her hair. Arya then had to dress her daughter as well, and Lyanna had a black Baratheon dress made for her with a golden stag that reached from her side to the hems of her dress. Lyanna liked to dress nice, for she knew that Rhaella would be just as elaborate. Her baby Edric was just dressed in a tiny grey doublet with the Stark wolf running along the side, his breeches were of the same shade. Gendry was dressed in his finest lords clothing, dressed exactly like Robert, who was cladded in black minus the golden stag on his chest and the direwolf on the other.

Arya had let her son go be with his cousins once he was done dressing. Arya had to go to tell them the news about Storm's End in Bran's solar once she was done here with Lyanna. Now she was just in her chambers with Lyanna, dressing her for the wedding. Edric had been dressed and Lady Catelyn had come to take him down to the godswood with Baby Cat, Jaime, and Myrcella. Arya was tying up the laces to her daughters bodice, as they sat on the bed. Lyanna had been quiet, usually she wasn't that way. Arya wondered what was wrong.

"Lya, is something wrong?" Arya finally asked.

She shrugged. "Nothing, Mummy."

Arya finished tying the third lace, when she thought on what her daughter said earlier this day about a certain someone. "You know I admonished your brother and Ned earlier for going to the crypts by themselves."

"Why?!" Lyanna almost screamed. "I didn't want you to get Ned in-trouble."

"Why?" asked Arya. "Ned knew what he was doing."

"Because he is nice," she replied in a soft voice, "and kind. I like, Ned. He's…he's…"

Now Arya knew the truth of it. "…a good boy, I know. He is your cousin, Lyanna. Of course you like, Eddard."

"I do like him," she said softly again, "but Ned likes Sella."

Arya could hear the pain in her daughters voice as she said those words. It had seemed she truly had taken a liking to Ned, Arya had never known. How long could this had been happening? Had Lyanna always felt something for her cousin, or was this just a little girls infatuation? Arya had to know. Lyanna was her daughter.

"How long have you liked him?" Arya finally asked, she could feel Lyanna grow nervous as she was finishing tying her bodice. "Have you always felt this away about Ned?"

"I don't like him," she corrected. "I-"

"-What, love him?" Arya finished for her. "Is that how you feel about him?"

Lyanna only nodded in reply.

"How long have you felt this way?"

"I've always liked, Ned. I just…don't know, Mummy."

Arya sighed. "Lya he is your cousin. You cannot love your cousin like that. You cannot love him like I do your father. Ned…he is a good boy, I'll give you that."

"I know, Mummy. It is just that…" Lyanna shook her head. "Ned loves, Sella. Not me."

Arya could hear the pain once more and she finished tying the bodice. Her daughter began to sniffle then, sniffle in sadness. Arya only held her child, as she cried. Lyanna shouldn't be feeling like this at only four, she shouldn't be feeling this kind of adult emotion. Arya thought her daughter would be like her, she thought Lyanna would be like her namesake. She thought Lya would hate dresses, love running and riding. But, no, she was the opposite. Lyanna liked lady things, her cousin Rhaella with her, and seemed to already be interesed in boys. Even if it was her own cousin. She felt sorry for her in this moment and wished for the pain to end. Arya knew that if Ned were here to see this that he'd hug her and tell her that he loved her. Ned had always been a kind boy, it was probably why Lyanna fell for him.

Once Lyanna had finished crying, Arya just waited with her until Daenerys would come with Rhaella and Casella. The three girls were already friends, no matter that one of them was with the boy Lyanna seemed to already feel affection for. Arya knew Ned had always been nice, and Robert was often not as nice with his sister. Many a time Gendry had to stop Robert from teasing his sister. It is why Lya seemed to look forward to Arya's pregnancy. She wanted a sister, but the gods granted Arya another son. Lya was sad, but hoped that Edric would be different, would care for her like Robert should. Perhaps that is why she liked Ned so much. Ned was always kind to her, treated her like the brother Robert should have been. And that was why she grew to like him, to love him…in a sense. Arya would see when they were older.

He'll have to write her at Storm's End, but they could still be close. We would be able to still visit Winterfell at times.

Daenerys came soon after, dressed in a red dress which bared her shoulders, black outlining her skirts and bodice. Rhaella was wearing a dress of black, a Targaryen dragon stitched on which reached from her bodice down to her skirts, just like Lya's Baratheon dress. She looked beautiful, of course. Once they left, Arya went down to Bran's solar to see on the men. She knew they'd be there, knew that they would all be there. It was her brother's she wanted to tell about Storm's End first. They would be more understanding and less emotional than the women. Arya was sure that most - if not all of them should already know, minus Rickon. He wouldn't know already.

Arya knocked on the door, and on the other side she could hear tankards clashing, jests, and laughter. Her brother's were already drinking before the feast, probably to try and quench Jon's nervous. Rickon came to open the door, dressed in his best lordlings clothing with his auburn hair combed to the back. Arya thought him very handsome, like Robb would have been at his age.

Rickon smiled. "Arya!" he gave her a quick hug. "What are doing here, sister?"

"I came to be with you guys."

He nodded and let her through the door. Inside Bran's solar all the men were sitting around the table, ale in their hands. James was sitting beside Gendry, while Bran, Jon, and Rickon were sitting across of them. Tyrion was sitting by Bran, drinking his wine of course. "Arya!" Gendry yelled, motioning her to take as seat between him and James. "Lady Baratheon!" Tyrion yelled afterwards. Arya smiled and walked over to him, taking the seat next to him. Gendry kissed her and she scowled, not liking to show affection in-front of her brother's. Some teasing ensued, of course, mostly from Rickon.

Arya wanted to tell them about Storm's End, but was too nervous to do so. She looked to her left and saw James there, laughing as he drank. If Daenerys was here that tankard wouldn't be in his hand. Arya then thought about how her daughter loved his son. He has a right to know, James does have a right. When Arya saw that her husband (Gendry could never know of Lya's love for Ned) was listening as Bran was telling a story to Rickon about their trip North, Arya took the chance.

Arya nudged James and whispered, "James, I must tell you something."

"Finally going to tell them about Storm's End?"

Arya nodded. "Yes, but that is not what I want to talk to you about now. I…you have the right to know."

He looked puzzled. "Know about what?"

Arya glanced to Gendry and saw that he was enthralled in the story. There was no way he was listening to her. Arya made sure to speak in a whisper. "It seems that my daughter has found some…affection for your son."

James raised an eyebrow. "They…are…cousins, Arya? I'm sure that they love each other as such. Lyanna and Ned have known each other since they were naught but babes."

Arya glanced back to Gendry, who was still listening, and shook her head. "Not like that, James. Lyanna…she loves him. It is not just a cousins love."

Arya could see the shock on his face. "Loves him? As in how I love my wife or you do Gendry?"

Arya only nodded.

The shock was plain on her brother's face. "No, that…cannot be. How did this happen? How?"

Arya shrugged slightly. "Who knows, James. Lyanna claims she has always liked him, and…it seems like it is sincere."

"How sincere?"

"Sincere enough for her to cry over it…"

James shook his head. "Oh, that's very sad. Why would she cry?"

"Why do you think?"

"Casella," he finally said, after a few moments to thinking. "It is because Ned has fallen for her."

Arya nodded again.

James reached forward and took his tankard of ale. He took a large drink and set it on the table, wiping the foam of his beard with the back of his hand. "I cannot help but feel sad that Lyanna loves him. Ned…he is oblivious to it, but I'm sure he loves her in his own way. He loves Casella, that much is obvious. I'm sorry about this."

"You shouldn't be apologizing," Arya told him. "I know that Ned would be kind to her, but I just feel so sorry for my daughter. She has always had a heavy heart, and has always cared for your son, just not in this way. You're not angry?"

"How could I be angry? They're both four, and Lyanna is a good girl. I could never be mad at that. Just...surprised, I guess."

James then shook his head. "And now that she will have to leave Winterfell…will only make it worse."

"Who is leaving Winterfell?" Rickon suddenly asked. He glanced between James and Arya. "What were you two talking about?"

Arya saw that James grew nervous, he was at a loss for words. Arya figured that now was the best time. "We are. Gendry and I will have to leave for Storm's End with our family once Stannis leaves Winterfell. We have to…Rickon."

Rickon was in-shock, he did not say anything. Bran only nodded at her, confirming in Arya that he already knew. Tyrion nodded as well, of course he knew already. Tyrion was too smart for his own good. Jon did not say anything, he was just nervous about the wedding. He looked handsome in his grey doublet and black breeches. A direwolf on one, the Targaryen dragon on the other. His black hair was combed back, but his thoughts were else where.

Gendry wrapped an arm around Arya. "We will tell the rest of them after tonight. Tonight should be about Jon and Sansa, not us. Our children…we will tell them soon, but we would appreciate it if they did not hear about it just yet."

All the men nodded in-agreement and went quiet. Rickon reached over to Jon and clenched his shoulder. "Well, at least we have something happy to look forward to today. Jon is getting married to Sansa. Two Stark cousins falling for each other, it seemed."

Arya and James had to both surpress a chuckle. After a few moments it was time for the wedding ceremony. All the men went down to the godswood, and by the time Arya arrived with Gendry, arm-in-arm, both the nobles and some castle folk were pouring in. There was no aisle that lead to the tree, simply white flower pedals that had been spread across the ground.

The godswood was filled with conversation as Arya entered with Gendry. As they walked towards the Heart Tree they passed by nobles and folk in conversation. Some were talking about the wedding, but most were talking about the arrival of the new King. Others were saying that Stannis was coming to raze Winterfell, which is why Bran ordered most of his men within not only the inner-most walls, but the outer as well. Not to mention that archers now fill the crenelations and watch towers on each of Winterfell's walls.

The Heart Tree was beautiful in the evening sun. It's white bark was almost illuminating in the setting sunlight and the leaves looked redder than usual. The eyes were still crying blood-red, and suddenly visions hit Arya's mind of seeing her father sitting there before that tree as he prayed or cleaned Ice. The thought made her sad.

Arya found her family at the front of the Heart Tree. Lady Catelyn was on the right side with Daenerys and Myrcella, each of them had a child. Dany was holding Cat, Myrcella had Jaime, and Lady Catelyn held Edric. Rhaella, Lyanna, and Casella were standing in-front of their mothers and were talking. Ned has two lady-loves, Arya thought as she looked at her daughter and Casella. But his heart belongs to only one.

Jon was standing to the left of the tree, looking increasingly nervous. His hands were shoved into his pockets, and he just stared down at the ground. James, Gendry, Tyrion and Rickon were beside him. They were laughing and trying to calm down Jon, to no avail. Ned and Robert were standing in-front of their father's, both of them were talking. Arya could see Ned waiving and smiling at Casella every so often, and the girl would smile back. Each time they did so, Arya couldn't help but think about how Lyanna must feel. That each time Ned waived and smiled it wasn't for her, but for another. Arya knew it must hurt. She'd never had known love beside Gendry, where as Daenerys or James had known many loves in their life.

Arya took her place with the women, and had Lyanna standing in-front of her. Soon everyone took their places and it was time for the ceremony. Maester Willem stood at the front of the Heart Tree, whereas Arya could remember that James performed Bran and Myrcella's ceremony, but the maester had done Arya's. There was no Septon in Winterfell, Arya's mother's sept was still being rebuilt. The godswood grew quiet as they waited for Sansa, who was to be escorted down to the tree by Bran. He was the Lord of Winterfell and was delighted to perform the honor.

The ceremony went by in a flash, and Arya Stark could not remember when it began nor ended. Sansa was escorted down by Bran a few moments later, looking beautiful in her dress of myrish lace and ivory. Her hair was curled and down past her shoulders, she even had some white flowers in her hair. Arya could remember how much her older sister had yearned for this day, had yearned to finally be married to a man she could call her own. And Jon was that man. How weird it still felt for Arya to say that her own cousin-brother, the man she had always been close with, was now marrying her own sister. But Jon loved her, and she loved him. Arya saw no wrong in it any longer.

Jon was sweating when Sansa was escorted down. Arya only laughed to herself as she saw his nerves rattle him with each screech coming from Bran's chair. When Arya's younger brother gave Sansa over to Jon, the ceremony began. Maester Willem made them promise to love one another, made them swear in-front of the Heart Tree and the Kings of the North. All the women were crying at this point, as they had been at Bran's, James's, and Arya's own wedding. Arya did not want to cry, but by the time Jon and Sansa were proclaimed husband and wife, by the time he'd put a Targaryen cloak over her shoulders, by the time everyone was clapping including her children, Arya Stark Baratheon could not help but cry, too.

-x-

Sansa

Sansa Stark - Targaryen, she must remind herself - had never been happier. The feast was as immaculate as she imagined. Tapestries of both House Stark and House Targaryen hung across the walls, enveloping the Great Hall in a sea of white, grey, red, and black. Sansa had never seen a lovelier sight in her life. This was her wedding, her and Jon's wedding, and her happiness was unlimited. The feast was well underway, and already the smells of Sansa's childhood filled the air. Whenever her lord father would have a feast in Winterfell she would be filled with excitement. She'd enjoy watching the lords and ladies dancing, the propriety of it all. Now it was her own feast she could enjoy, her own wedding. Sansa had already been to her siblings weddings - minus, Rickon's of course - but now she could enjoy her own.

Sansa was sitting upon the chair her mother used to sit at with her father whenever there was a feast in Winterfell. Jon's sweaty hand was firmly clenched in hers as he sat upon the High Chair of Winterfell. He's so nervous, thought Sansa as she looked at her husband. His combed black hair was sort of damped with sweat and already she could see beads coming down his forehead. Sansa didn't mind, it showed he cared.

Everyone was coming up to her and Jon, offering their congratulations on their marriage. Most of the nobles had come and said thank you, shaking her and Jon's hands out of courtesy. Sansa wondered if any of them thought that their marriage was wrong, if it was an abomination in their eyes. They knew that Jon was the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, that Sansa and him were cousins, in truth, and cousins were perfectly fine to marry in the eyes of gods and men. But some of them were old enough to remember when Sansa was Ned Stark's daughter, and Jon was his bastard. Sansa didn't know if they were happy or repulsed, and frankly she did not care.

Now her family came up to offer their congratulations. Lady Catelyn came first by herself, hugging and pressing a kiss to both of their cheeks. Sansa was happy her mother had accepted their union. Bran and Myrcella came up after them with little Jaime in his mother's arms. Sansa smiled when they came up, but she still knew that Myrcella was not okay with this, in a way. She did not like the idea of incest (since she was the product of it) but was still respectful in her own way. And truth be told, Sansa could not stay mad at her. Myrcella had done her duty not only as a wife and mother, but as a Stark.

Arya and Gendry came after with their children. The Lord of Storm's End - if he still was, Sansa didn't know - and his wife were all smiles. They pressed a kiss to each cheek, jested with Jon, and their children were ever sweet. Little Lyanna curtsied and Robert bowed, looking like both a little lord and lady. Even Edric, who was nearly three moons old, managed to hug Sansa. When Arya had held Sansa's hand and pressed a kiss to each of her cheeks she had said, "We need to talk. I-I need to tell you something." And with that she climbed down the dais. Sansa didn't know what to make of that.

The feast was all but underway in this moment, and Sansa was happy that it was going so smoothly. The northern lords and retainers that had come with Bran were drinking, dancing, eating and playing games. Again it reminded Sansa of the childhood she remembered and at times yearned for. And now she could give it to her and Jon's children. If Stannis was coming under a peace banner then it was certainly possible for it to be so. Sansa could be a lady of Winterfell, Jon the master-at-arms or something of another. They could raise their children with the Stark family in relative peace. And the Baratheons, too. We cannot forget about Arya and Gendry.

James, Daenerys and Rickon came soon after. James was holding Ned, Dany held Catelyn, and Rickon held Rhaella. Sansa smiled brightly when she saw her Eddard in his grey doublet and black breeches. He used to wear something of the same when he was a prince and Rhaella a princess. How that felt like a long time ago. Her nephew who she thought of as a son hugged her tightly and pressed a kiss to her cheek, he even said, "Congratulations, Aunt Sansa. Now you're married!" Sansa couldn't help but laugh.

Some time passed, and it was still a blur to Sansa Targaryen. Everyone was dancing at this point, and her and Jon already shared their first dance. It was very nice and sweet, everything that Sansa had imagined it would be. Jon was nervous, of course, and had stepped on her toes but it was overall okay. The children were dancing in this moment, Sansa realized. She saw Rhaella dancing with her father, Lyanna with Rickon, and even Edric was with his grandmother and Baby Cat with Daenerys. Sansa then saw Ned dancing with his little lady-love, his Casella. How Sansa's heart threatened to burst from her chest in this moment.

"Do you want to dance?" Sansa asked Jon again. Jon was acting distant this night, as if something was bothering him. He had not being drinking, either. Each time a servant came to refill his cup, he'd place his hand over it and say he did not want anymore. Drink! Sansa wanted to yell at him each time. Sansa already had three cups and her head was spinning. She knew the eventual bedding would be easier if she was drunk, and she knew it would be easier for Jon too. Dany had told her that it was easy for her when she married James because she had too much to drink that night.

Jon shook his head and patted her hand. "Not now, my wife. I-I don't seem to be in a mood for dancing."

Sansa scoffed. "Jon, Ned is dancing with Casella! Ned is four and he dances! I know he doesn't like to dance, why can't you just dance?" Sansa glanced at the dance floor to see her family dancing, and even Ned was keeping pace with the daughter of Ser Edmund.

Jon smiled. "Later, Sansa. I promise."

Sansa crossed her arms. "Fine. But if you don't dance with me, the only thing we are doing tonight is sleeping."

That made Jon laugh. "Is that a threat?"

"Call it what you will, Lord Targaryen."

"Fine, Lady Targaryen."

Sansa laughed right along with him when she noticed Arya walking up towards the dais with Gendry. Sansa had been able to read Arya's emotions since they were children - Arya never hid them well, a quality she shared with James - and Sansa could see the pain and worry on her face.

Sansa flashed her a smile, hoping to calm her sister's nervous, but it did no good. Arya sat next to Sansa, and Gendry beside Jon in the seats of honor. Suddenly, Arya took her hand. "I've been meaning to tell you this, and everyone practically already knows. Mother knows, James knows, everyone knows, Sansa."

"Knows what, Arya?"

Arya shook her head. "What is Gendry the lord of?"

"Storm's End." Sansa felt confused. "Arya, why are you telling me this?"

"I'll have to go back to Storm's End, Sansa. I'll have to go back once Stannis comes and forces Gendry to go back. I'll have to leave Winterfell, my children with me."

Sansa was taken aback. She had forgotten about this, about Gendry being the Lord of Storm's End. Arya will have to leave Winterfell, she'll have to go away. Her children will have to go with her, and they'll never get to see their cousins. Sansa would have wept in this moment were it not her wedding.

"I'm sorry," said Arya. "I didn't want to lie to you. I felt like I should warn you beforehand."

Sansa smiled and patted her hand. "You have nothing to be sorry about, Arya. We all must do our duty."

Arya only gave her a curt nod and sat up from her seat. Sansa turned to see that Gendry was talking to Jon, and suddenly she could remember when he was nothing but a bastard blacksmith on the Kingsroad and was now one of the most powerful lords in Westeros. Gendry made his good-byes, gave Sansa another brotherly kiss to her cheek, and left with Arya, wrapping an arm around her.

Sansa couldn't help but frown, and Jon must have noticed on the distress because he stood up from the chair, offering his hand. "I believe we should go dance, my lady wife."

Sansa gave him a feign smile, but appreciated his gesture. Jon was always so kind. Sansa took his hand and was about to reply when someone yelled, "Bedding! It's time for the bedding!"

Sansa did not remember what happened after that (she does remember, it is just that she chooses not to), and did not recall being dumped into her and Jon's chambers in nothing but her small clothes. The men had all swarmed her like bees to honey, and said the gaudy jests that she could remember from Daenerys's wedding as well. Jon had been taken by the ladies, and most of them were a bit too happy to take his clothes off for Sansa's liking but she didn't mind. For Jon was her husband and all hers this night and for a thousand more to come.

Her and Jon's chambers were quiet large. There was a decent bed in the middle, a roaring hearth on the other side. On the table there was a wedding goblet filled with the ceremonious wine. Sansa walked over and took it in her hands, making sure not to spill any of it. She was already drunk, she knew, but it couldn't help to drink just a little bit more. Sansa drank as she stood in-front of the door. She shook the flowers from her hair and now it flowed freely down her shoulders.

Suddenly she heard the laughs and jests on the other side, and Jon came stumbling in the door. Sansa just stood there smiling.

Jon laughed and closed the door, he was completely naked. "Those women are crazy." He gave another laugh and looked at Sansa. "You're beautiful."

"And you are so handsome, husband."

Jon gave another chuckle and closed the distance between them. His left hand began to trace the curve of her waist, and Jon only breathed heavily. He was nervous, Sansa could tell. All men were nervous on their wedding night, especially after the bedding. Daenerys had told Sansa that James was nervous the first time, not that she cared to hear about it at all. Suddenly Jon pulled her close and kissed her, his mouth tasted of not wine but cloves.

Jon kept kissing her. "We should have left the feast hours ago. I don't think I could have taken another moment of that dancing."

Sansa kissed him back. "I loved watching them. I especially enjoyed seeing Ned dancing with Casella. Did you notice?"

Jon laughed against her lips. "I did. Little charmer, he is. He is only four and may have found his lady wife. Can you-"

"-Enough talking." Sansa kissed him again. She again tasted no wine on his breath, and it was now that she realized why he hadn't drank this night.

"So that is why you didn't drink tonight?" Sansa said as she broke off the kiss. "You-"

"-wanted to remember this night," he finished for her. He laughed again. "Yes, that is right." He pushed some hair from her face. "I'll always want to remember the first time, Sansa."

Sansa pressed a hand to his bear chest. "I'm no maid, Jon. I'm-I'm not a maiden."

He nodded. "I know. Sansa, you've told me. I just don't care."

And with that all caution was abandoned.

It was as sweet as Sansa imagined when Jon entered her for the first time. He had taken her slowly. He pressed kisses to her lips, breasts, and between her legs that made her shout in pleasure. It had been awhile since she loved a man, and it had been the first time then. Sansa did not have many lovers in her life before Jon. Willas Tyrell was something - could have been something, but nothing came of it. Jon had wanted her for awhile, she knew, when he was taking her. He made love like a green boy. Jon pressed opened ended kisses to her shoulder, whispered endearments to her mouth that made her flush, and he moved wildly when his time was near. This wasn't the love making she imagined as a child, she thought it to be more serene and romantic. Jon was nice with her, of course, but still was wild and green when it came to it. He had groaned her name when he spilled his seed inside her, and nothing pleased Sansa more. She imagined that they had made their first child in that moment, and how much she'd love for it to take hold on her wedding night as Daenerys had liked to claim it did with her twins.

And when it was over she laid in his arms for a while. Jon then asked, "Do you think Robb and Father would have been happy with our union?"

Sansa sighed against his chest. "Father knew the truth of your parentage, and Robb married for love. They would have been happy for us, Jon. Happy that we both found love, even if it was in each other."

He gave a laugh. "You are wiser than me, Sansa Stark."

"Sansa Targaryen," she corrected. Sansa still felt weird thinking she now belonged to a line of kings and queens."That is my name now, Jon. And it will be the last name of our children as well."

Jon laughed at that. "Sansa Targaryen. Even now I don't feel as if I am Rhaegar's son. I still feel like Jon Snow, the Bastard of Winterfell."

"But you aren't a bastard. You're the Lord of Dragonstone, I think."

"I don't think I am anymore. I think Stannis will take that from me, not that I really care."

"I just wish Stannis wouldn't come," said Sansa. "I just wish that Arya wouldn't have to leave us either."

Jon turned to her and smiled. "Arya isn't going to Essos, my wife. She will be able to visit every so often, gods permitting. Winterfell will still be here."

"But it isn't her I worry about, Jon. It's the children. Robert and Lyanna won't understand, and neither will Rhaella nor Ned. They will take it so hard, and I don't like seeing them sad."

Jon kissed her. "You're going to be a great mother. But sometimes these things just happen. We just have to make the best of them. Robert and Lyanna will grow, Ned and Rhaella with them. Then we will have children of our own and…life just goes on."

Sansa snuggled closer to him and sighed, closing her eyes. Jon kissed her head. "Good-night, my wife."

"Good-night, my husband."

As Jon slept soundly beside her like a newborn babe, Sansa Stark prayed for a child with him. She prayed for a boy with her eyes and hair they could call Robb, or maybe a girl with her hair and Jon's eyes they could call Jeyne, after her best friend. Sansa curled up on his chest and let the sleep take her.

The morning was fully upon them when Sansa was awoken by a heavy knock on the door. It was a voice that sounded a lot like James.

"Jon," Sansa said, half asleep. She nudged him and he only groaned in reply. She gave him a harder shove. "Jon, James is at the door!"

James knocked on the door again. "I'm sorry to disturb you two, but you must awake! This is urgent!"

"Jon!" Sansa almost yelled this time. He finally did awake and rolled onto his side to face her, his grey eyes shot open. "Who is it?"

"It is James, I believe." Jon nodded and threw himself from the bed, throwing the coverlets off. He walked around and quickly threw on a pair of black woolen breeches with a white tunic. Jon shook out his hair and went over to the drapes, pushing them back to let out the morning sun. Sansa sat up in the bed and pulled the coverlets to cover herself.

Another knock came on the door. "Again, I am so terrible sorry about this."

"We're awake, James!" Jon yelled. "You can stop knocking, you dolt."

Jon walked over to the door and opened it. Sansa was sitting on the edge of the bed with the covers over her and she saw James there with Cat in his arms. He was dressed in a similar attire to Jon. Jon gave Baby Cat a kiss on the head before saying hello to James. James gave Sansa a curt nod before turning his attention on Jon. "I'm not a dolt, stupid."

Jon laughed. "Alright, Arya. Just explain why you awoke us at this ungodly hour?"

Sansa was smiling at the babe, who managed to smile back. Catelyn was looking like James with each passing day, but her violet eyes kept reminding Sansa of who her mother was.

Sansa saw James shake his head. "Stannis has been spotted outside of the city walls, Jon. He sent an envoy and asks for Bran to meet him out to treat with him. We are all going with him."

Sansa felt her eyes grow wide at the news. Stannis had arrived in Winterfell.