288 AC

"Mama!" a little voice shouted as a small boy ran through the corridors of Starfall, his uncle hot on his heels. Jon Dayne Qorgyle, legitimized bastard of Lady Ashara Dayne, was a happy child. Slim, but somehow still round, cheeks held a certain childish handsomeness that he wore bashfully. He had never been a boy to enjoy the spotlight, though it had come to him recently, but he was definitely fit for it in looks. Jon stopped at the sound of his name being called and he turned to find his adopted father, Gulian Qorgyle, smiled locingly at him. He raced into the man's open and waiting arms, shouting, "Papa!"

Gulian swung his son around and asked, "And how have you been this fine morning, my boy?"

"Good, Uncle Arthur and I are looking for Mama."

"You know, it just so happens that I'm looking for her too. May I join you?"

"Of course, Papa."

The man had come to Starfall four years ago, when Jon was but a year old, and he had never truly left. He had, against his parent's wishes, married Ashara and taken her son as his own. He loved the boy more than life itself, just the way that a father should, and so he felt it was only right that he truly was the boy's father. Even still, the heir to Sandstone was unsure if the little black-haired boy that he held in his arms would ever be able to inherit his seat.

The reigning Lady of Starfall, as her older brother Arron had yet to marry, was found in her solar conversing with the newly arrived Lady Mellario. Though Prince Doran was in no shape to travel, his wife had made the journey with their three children and his brother and his family were set to arrive any day. Ashara, heavy with child, brightened at the sight of her son. When he was handed to her by her husband, she could not help but to nuzzle into the little boy's face playfully.

"Mama!" Jon protested, eliciting smiles from everyone.

"I have to cuddle you as much as I can before I'm too big to even move," the woman gestured to her protruding stomach. Her son put his hand on her growing belly softly.

"You're boo-tiful, Mama, just like my baby sister."

"How do you know it's not gonna be another boy?"

"Because I do."

The adults all had to smile at his childish certainty. He had been telling them for months that the babe was a girl but everyone else believed it to be a boy, as that was what the maester had told them. Jon believed it so strongly that his parents had allowed him to pick out a name for a little girl. They did not truly believe him but he knew that they would simply see for themselves when little Elena was born.

Lady Mellario cooed at the little boy's cuteness. He was a gentle child, so unlike the woman's own offspring, Arianne, Trystane, and Quentyn. Dressed in simple clothes with no shoes, he could have been mistaken for a street urchin, had it not been for the noble way in which he carried himself. There were several men at court who could learn a thing or two from the young bastard turned lordling.

Ashara and Gulian took their son for a walk in the gardens, hoping to spend some time with him before the arrival of Prinve Oberyn and his brood. They each held one of his small hands, Jon telling them all about the flowers that he had learned of in his lessons. He was an avid young scholar, and Maester Ronin had often commented that he could not have asked for a better student. He was fascinated with discovering more about the world around him, occasionally to the point that he would forget anything and everything else.

"Do you think Uncle Oberyn's daughters will like me?" Jon asked shyly. The younger prince of Dorne was his godfather and had been to visit many times, but he had never met the man's horde of illegitimate daughters. They varied in ages; the youngest, Elia, was only two years old. It was said that Oberyn's longtime paramour, Ellaria Sand, was pregnant with yet another child.

Looking down at her son's insecure face, Ashara lifted him into her arms and said, "I'm sure that they will love you, my sweet."

"But what if they don't? Uncle Oberyn said they were like me, but I dunno what he meant."

Both parents cursed the prince's loose tongue. They were sure that he had meant no harm by the remark but it had been inappropriate nonetheless. His children were illegitimate, just as Jon himself had once been, but the boy did not know of his status. He had no idea that Gulian was not his biological father, and even less that Ashara was not his biological mother. It was something that his parents had agreed to tell him when he was older, when he was ready.

"He only meant that they are skilled fighters," Gulian covered when it became clear that his wife had no answer for their son. "His daughter Sarella is close to your age, perhaps you will be able to spar with her."

"Please, don't tell me I've gotta marry her too."

Laughter rang out at the child's impassioned cry. Earlier that year, they had informed him that they were considering betrothing him to Margaery Tyrell of Highgarden. He had been none to happy, to say the very least, stating that he had no wish to marry a girl that he did not know. They explained to him that he would not have to wed her for some time, until the two were much older, and that left plenty of time for them to get to know each other.

Prince Oberyn and his family arrived the next day to a formal greeting by the residents of Starfall, including Arthur and Ashara's nine year old sister, Allyria. Jon stood in between his parents, dressed in a miniature version of his father's military dress uniform. He looked handsome and regal in it, if not a little shy, as he was attempting to hide behind his mother's skirts. His godfather came adorned in his riding clothes and smiling broadly, his arm around his very pregnant paramour. The youngest of his children was held in her mother's arms with the other four following behind, ranging from ages seven to sixteen. All had the brown hair, mocha eyes, and tan skin of their father's house of Martell.

"You all look very proper, standing there in your formal garb as if I was someone important," Oberyn teased as he stepped forward. He first embraced Gulian, then Ashara, and finally stooped down in front of his godson. "What, no hug for your uncle?"

The little boy happily dove into the prince's embrace, allowing himself to be lifted into strong, tan arms. Reaching into his pocket, the man offered the boy a small doll and said, "I found this in Volantis and I thought of you."

"It's a Dothraki soldier!" Jon exclaimed. He held up the doll to gaze upon it reverently. "Thank you, Uncle Oberyn. I love it."

"Would you like to meet my daughters?"

The happy smile slipped off of the boy's face and he was only able to nod nervously. Oberyn sat him down in front of his brood, often called the Sand Snakes, and smiled as, one after another, each of the older girls stepped forward and introduced themselves to him. They were never a particularly warm bunch of girls, having been raised in the ways of combat since they were born, but each softened in the presence of the timid child. Even the eldest girl Obara, who was as surly and disagreeable as they came, stooped down and engaged in a giggling conversation with the boy. Her father was shocked, as he had not heard her giggle in all the years of her life.

Everyone dined that night in private, hoping to get the children acquainted with each other before they would all have to be seen together in public. They were allowed to sit anywhere that they like and Jon, surprisingly, chose to situate himself in between two of the Sand Snakes, sixteen year old Obara and fourteen year old Nymeria. He was rather taken with the older girls, who all too happily indulged him. They told him stories of their travels with their father, answering all of the endless questions that his inquisitive mind came up with. When it was time for him to go to bed, he even had Nymeria take him up and tuck him in, falling asleep with his head in her lap.

"Hey Nym," Jon asked his friend. Nymeria had taken the boy out riding, sitting him in front of her on the saddle.

She prompted, "Yeah?"

"Well I was wondering… how come your last name is Sand and not Martell, like Uncle Oberyn?"

The girl tilted her head, trying to decide how best to explain the situation to him. "You see, Father was not married to my mother, so I could not inherit his family name. I was given the name Sand to honor our great Dorne."

"I guess that makes sense. I gotta bunch of names, maybe you could have one of mine."

Nymeria laughed at the little boy's innocent generosity. Jon was a sweet little thing, so trusting and kind, and he loved so freely that it was impossible not to like him. She had always been the most affectionate of her sisters, so her love for him was expected, but Obara had shocked everyone by being equally as enamored with the child. He had quickly become something akin to a little brother to all of the Sand Snakes. They had a lot of sisters but no brothers.

Obara and Lady Ashara were waiting for them on their return, smiles on their faces. Letting her son go out alone with an already well accomplished assassin had been a far easier decision than the lady would have expected. She trusted Oberyn, and so she trusted her children. Seeing that they were in one piece, the mother knew that she had been right.

Ashara, Mellario, and Ellaria had a picnic with the children in the garden; nine year old Allyria, twelve year old Arianne, seven year old Quentyn, one year old Trystane, sixteen year old Obara, fourteen year old Nymeria, twelve year old Tyene, seven year old Sarella, two year old Elia, and Jon. The older girls watched with their mothers as Quentyn, Sarella, Elia, and Jon chased each other through the gardens.

"It's nice to see him playing with children his own age," Ashara commented, smiling fondly at her little son.

"Does he have no others to play with?" asked Ellaria.

"No, but he will soon."

"Is he happy about the baby?"

"I think that he may be more excited than I am, to be completely honest. This is the first day that's gone by that he hasn't mentioned the baby every few minutes."

"That's so darling," Mellario smiled. The three of them smiled as the aforementioned boy lifted baby Trystane up by his shoulders and helped him to toddle around. He was kneeled down behind the toddler, speaking softly to the smaller child and giving him gentle encouragement to walk. "He is such a sweet little thing."

"Thank you. I'd like to say that he gets that from me, but it is all his own. He's just naturally this amazing."

"Is the boy yet engaged?"

"We are in tentative talks with the Tyrells, who wish to wed their only daughter to him."

"That's odd, as he is of such low birth."

The Tyrells had, weirdly, been one of the very few families knew the truth of who Jon actually was. Ashara and Ellaria shared a knowing smile, safe in the knowledge that their companion did not have possession of such facts.

Up a tower in the main part of the castle, Gulian and Oberyn were discussing the young boy as well. Oberyan had pulled the young father aside to question him about his adopted son. The prince wanted simply to ensure that the man would cause no harm to befall his godson. After only mere moments of conversation, he knew that the man's intentions were true. Though the child was not of his blood, he loved him so, and the boy's godfather took great comfort in that.

There was a happiness to be found throughout the stone corridors of Starfall during that visit. Little Jon, who was usually so solemn, had come alive in the presence of the other children. The lot of them ran and played for weeks on end, creating friendships that would last a lifetime, even amongst the oldest of them. When the day came for the visitors to depart, sadness fell on them like a hammer to a blacksmith's anvil. Ashara had to physically pry her son away from Obara Sand, the infamous killer powerless against the five year old boy. There were tears and heartfelt goodbyes, none of which seemed to truly assuage the pain that they all felt at their impending separation. No one quite understood how the children could be so close with so little time but some things were better left a mystery.