Chapter 07 – Faces of a Coin
He soon made up his mind that Starfall is a place he enjoyed. Compared to the somewhat miserable Castle Sunderland, and Dragonstone, which had its fair share of history but exuded an ominous aura, the seat of House Dayne stood out, just like its owners. If judging solely on the pale blond hair some of them displayed, and even more so their violet or purple hair colors, one would assume that House Dayne had ties to the blood of Old Valyria, just like the Targaryens, Velaryons, and Celtigars.
The truth however is that House Dayne claims ancestry from the First Men, which is already a rarity below the Neck, the fact that they lived in the extreme south, at Dorne, made them even more of a rarity.
There was plenty of Dornish-Rhoynar influence too, which when combined with the Andal neighbors to the west and north, made Starfall perhaps the best place to see the three main cultures of Westeros at once.
After leaving Winterfell, Jon became especially fond of these detail and tidbits about the places' stories and origins. The act of a lord or even the royal family visiting their domains, getting to know their bannermen and the smallfolk alike was called progress.
Jon was not a lord, nor part of the royal family, but he liked to believe he was making a progress too, even if just a bastard's one.
Still, as he followed his sister to the Godswood of Starfall, he immediately put these thoughts aside to glance around and not dwell much on the fact that he had a third sister.
In his mind, there was simply no way to compare the slim trees of lighter wood and few branches and leaves to the majesty of the robust trees at North, with green canopies that would turn red when seasons change. Still, the place was quiet, and he loved the silence.
Even more so with the kind of talk I'm having here.
He said nothing but was slightly surprised when he came face to face with a heart tree carved into a weirwood tree. The expression carved betrayed nothing, and there was a flow of red sap that gave the appearance that the face was crying coming from one of the carved eyes.
The girl stepped away and glanced at him appraisingly. Jon did the same.
Before coming to Starfall, Jon paid not as much mind to the women as Robb and Theon did, but he saw things. At the North, considering girls of his age group, he has a tie between Alys, with her long face, delicate features, and grey eyes that bordered light blue and hair as brown as his; and Wynafryd Manderly who was three years older than him, with a more defined figure, long brown hair and hazel eyes. Sansa would most likely surpass both when she grew, his sister always favored her mother in appearance, and he once overheard Lady Stark herself saying that Sansa would eventually grow to surpass her own beauty.
Then he set his feet on Starfall, and things changed a little bit. Allyria could only be overshadowed by her sister's beauty but still very beautiful, no doubts the most alluring woman in his age range. The woman in front of him, from what Jon could learn from Ashara was a bit more than a year older than him, and as pretty as Allyria, which was a hard task to accomplish. Remembering his father's face clearly, and meeting Ashara in person, Jon could see that unlike him and his other siblings, who ended up favoring the appearance of one parent more than another, Dyanna had the look of both her parents.
Her dark grey eyes sent him on a trip back to Winterfell, before he dreamed of finding his mother's identity when he would play with Arya and listen intently to his father at the Godswood. Her hair is long and as dark as midnight and inherited from her mother, flowing through her back freely, as silken threads or as a river flow. Compared to both Ashara and Allyria, she was the paler of the trio, a trait she seemed to inherit from her father. Her face seemed to mirror Ashara's as it was proportional and with exquisite features.
Still, her beauty mattered little to him.
The girl stopped looking at him, and glanced at her feet, causing Jon to frown.
However, she suddenly launched herself into his arms, surprising him in a manner that it was only due to his trained reflexes that the duo didn't fall to the ground.
Her embrace was eager and desperate, and Jon cautiously wrapped his arms around the girl. His sister.
A few minutes later, with the girl still embracing him he whispered in her ear.
"I take that your mother told you the truth."
Dyanna untangled herself from him and nodded.
"You are my brother."
Jon nodded. "And you are my sister."
The girl let out a nervous laugh. "Today I woke up without a father, now not only I know his name but also have six siblings. It's unreal."
He smiled at that. "I came here looking for my mother, I found a sister instead."
The girl smiled sadly. "So it seems that the honorable Warden of the North has not one but two bastards."
Her words brought back a feeling of disappointment felt toward his father. He did not dishonor Lady Stark by laying with Lady Ashara, but as he considered he was most likely conceived later than both Robb and Dyanna, it meant that he did dishonor his wife and Lady Ashara both by bedding his mother.
"I assume you are as disappointed as I am with that."
"No one has a lecher as a father."
Jon laughed at that with a certain bitterness. "I never thought I would hear someone call my father a lecher, much less that I would agree with that statement."
Still, the memory of a caring father who would sit at the Godswood polishing Ice and telling stories to his younger self couldn't leave his mind.
"How it is like?"
"Hm?"
"What is everything like? At the North?" the girl asked. "Winterfell, the people, our siblings, and our fat…Lord Stark."
He felt a sudden melancholy. Homesickness. "It's not as pretty as Starfall, and not as welcoming too." Jon admitted before a smile adorned his face. "It's the only home I ever know."
The girl…his sister smiled back at him. "I'd love to hear more."
Jon glanced at the heat tree. "Do you keep the Seven?"
Dyanna nodded. "I'm not particularly devoted but yes. The North prefers the Old Gods, don't they?"
"Yes, we do. Did you know that we aren't supposed to lie in front of a heart tree?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?"
Jon reached the tree trunk. "We believe the gods watch over us through the heart trees, should we lie, we would face divine retribution."
"And you believe in that?"
"No, but I do hate lies."
The girl caught up with the hidden meaning of his words. They would not lie to each other. "Do you hate your father?"
"Our father." Jon corrected. "No, I guess I could never hate him. But I'm so disappointed in him. He taught honor to me and my siblings and told us the importance of honesty, but in the end, he lacks these." Jon's eyes met hers which were equally grey. "You hate our father?"
"I do. Even in the remote Dorne, we hear of the honorable Eddard Stark, but they don't know him as an oathbreaker."
"He's not." Argued Jon.
"He promised my mother he would marry her. He didn't."
"You know very well the circumstances changed, even Lady Ashara herself didn't hold him accountable for that."
"So, just because she has no army to give him his promise to her is void? So, he could fulfill a marriage that was never intended to be his?"
This angered Jon. "The Mad King burned our grandfather alive, our uncle Brandon was forced to watch and strangled himself to death while he attempted to free him, after that, whilst his son was busy raping our aunt, he demanded our father's head. Father's life was in danger, his brother's life, and our uncle Benjen would be next, he still had a faint hope of rescuing aunt Lyanna, he needed Hoster's armies. Besides, if the mad king discovered your mother was pregnant with my father's child, do you think he would've simply turned a blind eye?"
He stopped his tirade to look at Dyanna, who glanced at him in apprehension with wide eyes. It took a bit longer for Jon to realize she was scared of him.
He sighed.
"Shit, I'm sorry. You must think I'm an arse." Jon apologized. "There's no one as disappointed as my father as I am, believe me when I say that. But if there's something I'm sure about him is that he is devoted to it is his family."
"I understand that you are trying to defend the only parent you have, but from where I stand he's just the man who dishonored my mother and went to live his life in Winterfell without ever bothering to look back." Dyanna said.
"I don't know what goes through his head." The bastard of Winterfell admitted. "Still. I could never hate him. Not when he put his whole marriage in jeopardy just so I could be raised alongside my siblings."
His sister nodded, and her voice quivered a bit. "Do you think he would've loved me?"
He smiled at her. "He will, after all, he loved your mother, maybe even more than his wife." Jon paused for a few seconds. "The question is, are you ready to love him?"
Dyanna pursed her lips. "I'm…not sure."
"No one expects you to do so instantly." He reassured his sister. "I promised your mother I would not reveal your existence to him or anyone else for that matter, and I keep my promises."
Jon's sister nodded at his words. "I'm not ready yet, maybe someday I will. It's just a lot to consider."
"Once you make a decision like that, there's no coming back. I know that better than you can imagine."
His sister chuckled. "I still struggle to believe you left your entire life back at Winterfell to chase down a rumor."
Jon chuckled. "Hey, I may not have found my mother, but I found a lifelong companion, so I'm happy."
"Stop, you're making me blush."
"I was not talking about you; I was talking about my horse Dusk. He's a very good boy." He jested, immediately earning a slap on the back of his head.
"Arsehole."
He just smiled. During his whole journey, he was so guarded he seldom smiled. There was a layer of truth in his words to his sister. Despite the heartbreak of not finding his mother, and seeing his father was not the man he thought he was, he for a long time was somewhat happy.
It wouldn't be for long.
Ashara could hide her bastard daughter well, but concealing a Northern bastard was a different story, people were bound to talk. If these whispers ended up in Winterfell, or even worse in King's Landing, he would be putting Ashara and Dyanna both at risk.
So, he would indulge in it as much as he could, but the truth is that as much as Jon wanted, Starfall could never be his home.
"Did you ever hold it?" Edric asked as they finished their practice.
Jon liked Edric. Ever since he came into the Starfall, the lad had been nothing short of respectful and welcoming to him, besides becoming his sparring practice.
Having just recently completed his ninth name day, he was no match for Jon of course, but he appreciated the effort. Having a bastard as a cousin, Edric never mistreated Jon due to his status, something that he made clear when Jon first refused to spar with him as bastards weren't supposed to injure trueborns.
"My father said that we all bleed the same, whether we were born on the wrong side of the sheets or not." The heir of Dayne once said to him.
As Allyria mentioned once, their father, Edric's grandfather, died during the Battle of the Trident, fighting for the loyalists; his most famous son, Ser Arthur Dayne of the Kingsguard also perished shortly afterward, a story Jon already was familiar with. Edric's father, Uthor, fought at the Greyjoy Rebellion, but unlike Ser Jorah Mormont, he did not find glory. Instead, he took a hard blow against his head. After that, the man was never the same; his health became frail, and fell into an almost catatonic state.
Even so, Ned still was keen on becoming the next Sword of the Morning.
House Dayne's origins were closely tied to Dawn, their ancestral greatsword. The myths say that the founder of House Dayne tracked a falling star to the mouth of the Torentine, and found a magical stone. The greatsword Dawn was forged from the heart of this fallen star and Starfall was built at that spot. Their coat of arms depicted that very moment.
Unlike Ice and several other ancestral weapons, Dawn wasn't made of Valyrian Steel, thus having a unique, coloring, as pale as milk. Also, it wasn't inherited alongside the Lordship of Starfall, which meant only a true, worthy knight of house Dayne could wield it, thus being known as Sword of the Morning.
Thus, in Starfall, the master-at-arms put a bigger emphasis on teaching Edric how to use a greatsword. So, when the heir of the castle invited him to these lessons, Jon was happy to accept, even if he wasn't as skilled with the two-handed sword as he was with the one-handed one.
If anything, it could prove to be useful in the future.
"You mean Ice?" Jon replied, earning a nod from Ned. "He once let Robb and I handle it when I was your age, but we couldn't lift it. Ice was far too big; in fact, it is bigger than both of us combined."
"He ever used it?"
"Only to execute people. Father was not particularly tall, so it probably felt awkward to use it in real combat."
"He executed people in front of his kids?" the younger boy asked in surprise.
Jon confirmed that with a nod. "He who passes the sentence should swing the sword. As children of the Warden of the North we were taught early on that justice should be served swiftly, even if it didn't make the prettiest of sights."
"Did you ever?" asked Ned, making the swinging sword motion.
Jon laughed at that. "I'm just three and ten, Ned. I wouldn't have the strength even if I wanted to. But, yes, I've taken lives."
The boy's eyes bulged at that bit of info. "How you felt about it?"
"In truth, I felt nothing." Jon admitted. "There was simply no time for me to digest it. After I took my first life I quickly had to draw another arrow to take my second. In the end, I took four lives that day, the only one that truly affected me was the fourth. He had a black mustache, scarred cheek, and brown eyes that looked at me as I stabbed an arrow at his throat."
The boy gulped, and Jon sensed he was becoming scared of him. Ever since he came to Starfall, it was with Ned, not Ashara, Allyria, or even Dyanna, that he spoke with the most. It made sense, as Ned was just two name days old when his father was stuck down at Pyke. Thus, for most of his life, the heir of Starfall was raised mostly by women, whose views on life and upbringings were vastly different from what was expected from the lord of a martially focused house.
It was also a new experience for Jon, as for the first time he actively had to assume a role akin to a mentor for the kid, way different from the big brother relationship he had with Arya and Bran.
"Edric, you still have all the time you need." He said in reassurance. "No one wishes to see a lad no older than nine acting lordly all of the sudden. There may be a time you'll have to go into combat, even take a life, but hopefully, this will come much later."
"Still, I feel like I'll never be prepared." The boy protested. "Like I'll always live in the shadow of my name."
"You can prepare as much as you want. It'll never be enough." Jon said with the subtly of a rampaging bull. "Shit, this was not what I was supposed to say…"
Edric had the gall to laugh at him. "Sometimes I truly pity your siblings." He jested, earning a smirk from Jon.
"Talk all you want, I'm sure I'll be the one laughing at the practice yard tomorrow." At the boy's groan, Jon patted his shoulder. "But I meant what I say, Ned, there's still plenty of time, your father didn't become a lord overnight, and I can only imagine how much effort it took for your uncle to become the Sword of the Morning. Keep doing your own thing and improving, when the time comes, even if you're surprised, I'm sure you will do a great job."
The heir smiled at him. "Thanks, Jon."
When Jon was invited to Ashara's quarters, he expected to find her accompanied by either Allyria or Dyanna. Much to his surprise, however, she was alone.
Her room was similar to Allyria's, albeit a bit tidier. It was a bit smaller than Sansa and Arya's quarters, but it was to be expected as Winterfell was much bigger than Starfall.
Jon refrained from looking much as the tray with food and wine immediately caught his attention.
"I took the liberty of ordering food for two." The ever-melodious voice of the older Dayne sister caught his attention. "You are hungry?"
Jon nodded. Dornish cuisine was probably better than what he experienced in the North, but truth is that with Edric and Dyanna taking his time, he had little time to properly enjoy the meal.
A closer look revealed that the wooden tray had plenty of exotic products, common in Dorne but rarer in the rest of the realm such as olives, lemons, blood oranges, and the Dornish wine, looking much darker in coloring when compared to what people in Winterfell drank.
"Take a seat." Jon did as he was asked, offering a grateful nod at Ashara. "Fancy some wine?"
Jon raised an eyebrow at that offer. "I'm thirteen."
"I remember your uncle was around that age when he got drunk at Harrenhal."
Jon first thought she was speaking of his uncle Brandon again until his brain did the math. "Uncle Benjen?"
"He did not fare well." Ashara confirmed with a chuckle. "But in his defense, his sister did dump a glass of wine in his head in front of the entire Northern retinue."
"How was she like?" he asked. His father rarely spoke of his deceased parents and brother. His aunt Lyanna seemed to be an even sorer subject. Jon clearly saw how pained the Warden of the North looked when Rickard Karstark noted how similar Arya was to her.
"I never spoke with her. Ned often told me stories of her fiery temper and how she always felt better riding a horse than sewing." Her face darkened. "He also seemed to believe her betrothal with the usurper was a bad idea."
This caused Jon to frown. "Why is that?"
"He feared Robert would eventually dishonor or bring shame to her. And when he did, Lyanna would not stay idle. From what he became it seems your father was right."
"I thought you would dislike her."
She gracefully raised an eyebrow at his comment. "Why is that?"
"You were Elia Martell's lady-in-waiting, maybe she took offense at her being crowned Queen of Love and Beauty."
The lady shook her head. "She didn't. Lyanna was a little bit older than Dyanna at that time, she had no fault whatsoever. In fact, both she and Elia were the biggest victims of Rhaegar's madness."
Jon nodded in understanding. "My father never spoke of her."
"I can sympathize with that, Lyanna deserved better. Elia was not a sister by blood but I loved her as one nonetheless."
"You almost died there too." Jon realized.
Ashara nodded. "When I showed up the earlier signs of my pregnancy, Elia not only let me return home but also promised that, if the loyalists were victorious no harm would befall me or my children. It's a shame the Lannisters didn't seem to offer her and her children the same courtesy."
"My father also dislikes them, I think." Jon remarked. "As I said he rarely speaks of the past, but when he sits with his bannermen it's clear he believes King Robert should have punished the Lannisters rather than rewarding them."
The lady agreed with him. "Aerys was a monster and his life should've been forsaken at the moment he ordered the execution of Brandon and his companions. The North, Vale, and Stormlands had all the right to march their armies to the capital; if you were to stretch things a bit the same could be said of the Riverlands. But Tywin?" she shook her head at that. "His actions weren't justified by love for his family or a quest for justice. He could never accept Cersei wasn't chosen as Rhaegar's bride, nor that Jaime has chosen to serve the Kingsguard leaving the Imp as his heir."
"He seems the type of man not to be crossed with." Jon remarked. "Even now we still hear of what he did to the Reynes and Tarbecks."
"The truth of the matter is that, in the end, the biggest winner of Robert's Rebellion was not House Baratheon, but House Lannister. Tywin's blood is now set to inherit the throne and by all accounts, King's Landing belongs to the lions, not the stags."
"The North won, but lost as much as the Targaryens." He surmised. "I guess I can sympathize with my father's aversion to all the Southron affairs. But I'm assuming this wasn't why you asked me to join you for supper."
She smirked. "No, it's not."
"Then I guess I will accept the wine."
Ashara offered him a glass filled with the darkish-red liquid. "Before we start, I have a confession to make. The truth is that you are the reason I never spoke of Dyanna's parentage to Ned."
He frowned but said nothing.
The lady took his silence as a sign for her to continue. "After I escaped from King's Landing I decided against sending Ned a raven informing him of Dyanna's impending birth. By then news of his marriage with Lady Catelyn already reached Starfall, and there was little I could do against it. Still, I planned to inform him of her existence by the time the rebellion ended."
The bastard connected the dots fairly quickly. "But then you caught word of another bastard. Me."
She nodded and Jon took a tentative sip of the wine. It was not bad at all, albeit sour; maybe it was the best choice for this conversation.
"I mean what I said when I don't hold Ned accountable for marrying Catelyn. As much as it pained me, it was his and his family's life in line. I would've done the same. Still, there was always a part of me angry. Not at him, but at his father for refusing the match, at his brother for rushing headfirst to King's Landing and getting himself killed, and at Rhaegar for starting the entire thing."
She took a long sip of her wine and her violet eyes glanced at him in sadness. Jon wondered if it had to do with how similar he was to his father.
"But, when I learned of your existence, I felt angry at him."
"Because, unlike Dyanna, he broke his vows to sire me." He concluded.
"I could easily forgive him for setting our impromptu betrothal aside, but you were sired after his marriage. Then, the honor he valued so much meant nothing. In the end, I slept with the same kind of man I swore to keep away."
Jon could understand her reasoning, but it still stung him to hear that he was born of dishonor.
"So, I decided to hide her away. He took my future and he took my brother from me." Ashara concluded. "When you first came here, I was truly afraid he somehow found out and was in league with Robert and plotting to take Dyanna away from me. So, I ordered the guards to deny you entry."
"I couldn't blame you for it. A parent should always protect their children." His tone became somber. "Even from their other parent."
She sighed. "For these thirteen years I kept saying to myself I did so to protect Dyanna, but the truth is that, deep down inside, I fear that I was being selfish. I wanted to punish the man who broke my heart, but by doing so I may have unintentionally hurt my daughter."
Jon, much to his, and hers, surprise reached out for her hand and gave a reassuring squeeze.
"I don't know Dyanna as much as you do, but I can see she is fiercely protective of you, maybe even more so than you are of her."
"Bastards are said to grow up faster than trueborns." Ashara remarked. "But you know that already."
That statement held truth in his opinion. Amongst the Stark children, he believed himself to be both the most mature and responsible of the bunch, albeit he was still susceptible to some impulsive decisions.
"Dyanna is as mature as I am." Jon praised his half-sister. "As stubborn as I am too." He added, earning a chuckle from Ashara.
"I'm proud of the woman she is becoming." Lord Stark's former lover said. "But I still wonder if I hadn't made a mistake depriving her of knowing her father and meeting her siblings. There's no better person to answer that than you, Jon."
"Because I am the only one who saw the two sides of the same coin." He surmised before letting out a weary sigh. "That's a surprisingly hard question."
"You don't need to answer if you are not comfortable with it." The lady reassured.
"I will answer, I'm just thinking. After all, wondering about how different my life would be if I met my mother, or was raised by her, was what brought me here." Jon glanced at Ashara. "Do you mind if I ask you something too?"
"Go on."
"How would you have treated me if you were married to my father?"
It was her time to sigh. "I would not put you on the same footing as my children. But I don't think I would go out of my way to antagonize you." She then smiled at him. "If you turned out like the man you are now I can even see myself loving you."
He felt a blush making its way to his face. "Thanks, my lady."
Her smile faltered a bit. "Still, this is the Ashara whose daughter is a bastard speaking. If she was born a Dayne, or even a Stark maybe my views would be different. Maybe I would've ended up being a bit warier of you."
Jon nodded. "We are speculating things here. I pondered things a bit, and I can only offer my insights and thoughts to you. I feel that in the end, if Dyanna was raised in Winterfell, her place would be dictated by my sisters more than my brothers."
Ashara nodded. "It's somewhat rare for a girl to favor the company of a brother when she has sisters around her age group. I speak from personal experience; I was somewhat used to following my mother around whilst Uthor and Arthur practiced in the courtyard."
"My sisters' relationship is complicated, to say the least. Sansa tries so hard to emulate her mother that sometimes I fear she forgets how to be herself. Arya, however, is as much a black sheep as I was, always more interested in more martial pursuits and scorning the traditional ladylike activities. Dyanna, from what I could see for myself, is more similar to Sansa than to Arya, but, unlike Sansa, she's very strong-willed."
"She got that from her father." The lady quipped earning a chuckle from him.
"So, if Dyanna was raised in Winterfell, I could see her either loving Arya and playing peacemaker between her and Sansa, or fighting Arya if she sensed some slight against her."
Ashara raised an eyebrow at that. "Your other sisters' relationship is that bad?"
Jon nodded. "Deep down inside, they love each other, but both can be difficult. I also feel that other people also influence their fights. Arya is rightfully resentful of how the Septa always praises Sansa but belittles her effort, of how her mother wishes she was more like Sansa, and of how Sansa's friends mock her." He shook his head. "But the thing is that Sansa, is not necessarily at fault for that, even if she sometimes makes things worse by taking their side rather than Arya's."
"Arya is truly the black sheep of the family then?"
Jon smiled. "The thing is that there is more than one black sheep. I mean, I'm a bastard, so if you count me as one of the Stark children, I'd be the black sheep by definition. However, Arya feels like an outsider when compared to the other women in Winterfell, hence why she prefers to spend her time with Robb, Bran, and the others rather than the other girls. But even Sansa can be considered a bit of an outsider too, she is the one who takes after her mother the most, so she is fond of Southron things she can't find in the North such as knights, poetry, and glamorous courts."
"What about Lady Stark? Why she never tried to talk with them?"
"Lady Stark" Jon measured his words carefully. "is a bit inflexible when it comes to these things. She loves both her daughter equally, but there's a lot more common ground with Sansa rather than with Arya. So, Sansa is the perfect, dutiful daughter who is shaping up to become the lady of some castle in the south, whilst Arya is the wild daughter who prefers wooden sticks to sewing needles and spends too much time with her bastard half-brother."
"She dislikes you." Lady Dayne's words were more of a statement than a question.
"She does."
Seeing he wouldn't elaborate further, Ashara pressed on. "How much?"
"A sufficient amount." He jested, earning a mock glare from the lady.
"I'm serious here, Jon."
"She never called me by my name." he remarked, earning a look akin to sympathy from the lady. "It was always 'the bastard' or 'boy'. I never got to eat alongside my siblings during a feast, as she insisted my presence there could offend the guests. I guess it was her way of politely asking to fuck off."
Jon's eyes widened at his own language, but the lady just let out a burst of melodious laughter. "Go on."
He shrugged his shoulders. "I guess there's not much else. I mean, as I saw how much she disliked me I started to avoid her presence as much as possible; and when I saw how much she hated when I beat Robb, during spars or lessons, I refrained from doing so." His lips were upturned. "At least in her presence."
"What a bitch." Ashara remarked, causing his eyes to widen and he almost spat out his wine trying to control his laughter.
After a few minutes, Jon spoke again. "I think she dislikes how much I take after my father, whereas all her children but Arya take after her. Which in my opinion is somewhat of a dumb take. If I were her, I wouldn't want to see a daily reminder of the woman he cucked her with." He remarked crudely.
"You think she would have mistreated Dyanna?" As different as Ashara and Lady Catelyn were, both had an edge on their voice anytime they felt their children were threatened.
"A bastard daughter is less troublesome than a bastard son." Jon pointed out. "The truth is that I can only make assumptions of why Lady Stark dislikes my presence there. I'm unsure whether it's because I am a threat to her children's inheritance or because I'm a walking reminder she wasn't enough for Lord Stark to stay true to his vows."
The lady kept quiet. As she said herself, she harbored a bit of resentment towards House Tully for pushing towards another marriage, which would probably extend to Lady Stark too.
"And of Ned? I know the Ned I saw the last time would never scorn his child, but what is he like now?"
"As disappointed as I grew with him over the last year, I know he would love Dyanna as much as any of his other children." He reassured. "If not for his love of secrets he would be the parent anyone could ask for. I guess I left only because I was so pissed at being kept at dark when it came to who my mother was. If he told me who my mother was and explained why he kept her identity a secret I probably wouldn't be here." The bastard paused for a few seconds. "I'm somewhat glad he didn't even if it meant I hadn't found my mother, at least I got a sister."
She smiled at his words. "I'm sure she enjoys your presence here too." She then leaned forward, as if to tell him a secret. "In fact, we all do."
He could only smile back at her kind words.
"Hence why I'm wondering whether you are considering making this stay a permanent one." Ashara revealed, taking his breath away.
For a long time, Jon yearned to hear these words. A place where he was wanted. The lady in front of him was not his mother but was offering him a home nonetheless.
So, denying her would be even more painful.
"I'm afraid I still have some places to visit, my lady. Besides, I'm afraid my presence here could draw my father's attention."
"We can work something out." Ashara said reassuringly. "Bastards aren't as badly viewed in Dorne as they are in the rest of the realm, so I could even find a match for you in time."
Despite being a constant reminder of the man who broke her heart, here was Lady Dayne offering all he ever wanted, a home, a name, and maybe even a wife.
"I'm grateful, I really am." He said reassuringly. "But I haven't given up hope of finding my mother's whereabouts. Otherwise, I will always go to sleep wondering if things could have been different. I guess you, more than anyone knows what it feels like."
Ashara nodded. "As strong-willed as your sister then."
"Only uglier." Jon said, earning a scoff from Lady Dayne.
After a few minutes in which the duo finished their meal, the lady brought up her concerns once again.
"But you think I did the right decision?"
"Ultimately I think you did." The bastard said. "We can only wonder about what could've been, but if I were to weigh these things, Dyanna's childhood was better than mine, which wasn't bad by any means. But if I were you, I wouldn't focus much on these things."
"Easier said than done."
"Parents aren't flawless, the same man who sat me in his lap and told tales of the North killed his fair share of men, bad and good alike. I believe Dyanna will agree with me there, that everything you did, you did thinking about what was best for her."
"But still…" she attempted to say.
"Please hear me out." Jon knew it was very rude to interrupt a lady, but did so nonetheless. "I can criticize a lot about my father, but I could never say he was a bad parent to me. You were even better, in fact, I'm still pissed about the fact you aren't my mother. When I dreamed of my mother, I imagined her as beautiful, highborn, and kind. You're much more than that. So please, stop blaming yourself."
Jon looked up to see Ashara with tears adorning her eyes.
Gods damn it. I made the woman cry
Ashara, who looked beautiful even while crying glanced at him. "I never knew I wished to have a son until I met you." She then smiled at him. "I don't know who your mother is, but I know she is proud of you. No one wouldn't be. Never let anyone tell you otherwise."
Then why she abandoned me?
For once he sat at the high table.
The feast was not as big as the ones he attended at the lower tables in Winterfell, but he appreciated Ashara's gesture nonetheless, even more so as he sat beside his sister.
Southron feasts weren't as loud and boisterous as the ones held in Winterfell, although this might have to do with the fact it was celebrating a betrothal rather than a good harvest or a name day.
Jon was somewhat mistrustful of the groom, but Ashara herself reassured him that Lord Beric Dondarrion, who was to marry her sister Allyria, wasn't as prejudiced against bastards as the other Southron lords and trustworthy.
The truth of the matter is that the man was so immersed in his conversation with Allyria that he paid him no mind. Allyria too seemed to enjoy his company, which gladdened him, he grew to admire her, and he wouldn't wish to see her trapped in an unhappy marriage.
For his part, he couldn't enjoy the occasion, even if he wanted to. Instead, he worried about the little details of etiquette that could present an offense to the other attendants. Whilst he was somewhat educated on courtesies and whatnots, he still lacked the practice Robb and the others had in Winterfell.
He couldn't commit any sort of blunder that would not only embarrass him but also Ashara who took a huge risk by seating him alongside the highborn lord.
"Dance with me." His sister said out of the blue, surprising him.
"I'd rather not."
"You will."
From the time he spent alongside Dyanna, he found out that his long-lost sister was mayhaps even more willful than Arya, although her interests were similar to Sansa's. Allyria said it was a Dornish thing, but even so, his sister stood out in fierceness when compared to Allyria and Ashara.
So, knowing any sort of resistance was futile, he got up and headed to the center of the hall, where some of the servants were already dancing. His head hung low, with his eyes trained on the ground and his walk was slow.
In short, he looked like a man heading for his own execution.
"Have you danced before?" Dyanna asked with a kind voice, as she probably sensed his discomfort.
"Once." He replied, remembering Alys. "A good seven years ago."
"And how did you fare?"
"Worse than Robb."
Dyanna shook her head. "I asked about you, not about Robb."
"Sorry." Dyanna seemed to be genuinely interested in him and his stories, but less so when it came to her other siblings and father.
The pretty girl let out a sigh. "Just follow my lead."
And follow her lead Jon did. Unlike Sansa, who would probably remember the verses of the song, Jon Snow knew nothing and focused all his efforts on not stepping at his sister's feet.
"It's not so difficult." Dyanna said as they waltzed. "I saw you in the practice yard against Edric, you are very good. Dancing is similar to swordplay, the feet guides you and you glance at your partner's eyes to see his intention."
"I'd rather be beating a nine name days old." Jon grumbled, earning a chuckle from his sister.
"Mother said she offered to let you stay here." At his nod of confirmation, his sister stared back at him with so similar eyes. "Why you refused?"
"You know why."
She shook her head. "I know, but I still wish you'd reconsider. You just got here; I'd rather not lose you that soon."
"It's been two moons already, and you're not losing me." He protested. "Besides I'm not your only sibling."
She scowled at that in a way that reminded him of Arya. According to Ashara, Dyanna could now freely write to Winterfell, even visit there should if she wished. Still, his older sister was keen on cutting all ties with the North.
Even her mother, who by now was not the biggest supporter of Eddard Stark thought it was an exaggeration, but did nothing to dissuade her from that idea. Jon agreed that his sister should be given time to make her own decision, but felt it was somewhat immature to refuse to acknowledge the whole truth.
"I'm Sand, not a Snow." Her voice was fierce and resolute, far different than Ashara's sweet melodious one.
"You are both." He talked back. "I crossed the entire continent in search of an answer that still eludes me. You have that at the palm of your hand, don't throw it away."
She glared at him as she would retort, but her eyes softened and went from Arya's to something more delicate, fragile. "I know." She croaked. "But it's hard to face all that."
"I can only imagine how it feels learning the truth at once." Jon sympathized with her. "And I'm not asking you to forget your mother and Starfall, but I'm saying that there's an entire chapter on your identity still to be read. Don't forget you are a Sand, rather learn what being a Snow is like."
His sister relucted for a few seconds but nodded at his words. "I will…just give me time…"
Jon nodded at her words. "One step at a time, find your own pace. No one's rushing you."
"When you will leave?"
"Soon. I'll probably wait until Edric leaves, and then it's time to hit the road again."
"Where you will go?"
"I'm not sure." Jon admitted. "I have no more leads on my mother, so I'll probably try to trace my father's steps during the rebellion. It seems like it's either the Riverlands or the Crownlands for me."
"Do you think it will work?"
"I doubt so. But there's not much else I could do."
"You could create a name for yourself." His sister suggested, causing him to glance at her in interest. "Finding out about your mother is very important to you, but it can't be your only goal in life. Otherwise, you will only be known as Eddard's son, not as Jon Snow."
This was something he never considered to be honest.
"All my life I wanted to be Lord Eddard's son. Maybe I was wishing to be Jon Stark rather than Jon Snow. You are right, maybe I'm focusing too much on my parentage to the point I'm forgetting who I really am. But I still wish to know."
Dyanna nodded at him. "You have every right, but I guess you should take your own advice in mind."
He smiled back at her. "Aye. One step at a time, find my own pace."
"There's no rush… for either of us."
It was only fitting that his last day at Starfall would be spent at the practice yard. Jon loved Edric almost as a little brother, but the heir of Starfall talked way too much.
Alongside Allyria's betrothal to the Lord of Blackhaven, it was also arranged for Edric to travel with the recently knighted Ser Beric, to serve first as a page and then as a squire.
Edric, who was apparently too effusive in his praise of Jon.
So much that the Lord of Blackhaven himself grew intrigued and wished to experience Jon's skills firsthand.
Fucking Edric
Jon was not opposed to testing his mettle on a spar, but he did oppose getting kicked around like a dog.
Beric was not only six years older than him, but also knighted and with drilled by some of the best instructors the Stormlands had to offer.
This was by far, Jon's hardest fight. Beric may not have a bloodline as distinguished as Robb or Theon, but was wiser, more experienced, and stronger.
The defeat was almost certain if Jon was to be honest, but the thought of Dyanna, Edric, and the others watching gave him a bit more strength.
Beric had brought his own training sword from Blackhaven, one crafted according to his preferences, whereas Jon had to rely on the swords provided by Starfall's master-at-arms.
"I'll have the bastard sword." Jon said to the master, who refrained from any snide remarks.
Jon himself had to admit that it was somewhat funny that the boy whose all troubles seemed to stem from his baseborn status was at his best with a bastard sword in hand.
He twirled the sword, reacquainting himself with it. He then glanced at his opponent. Both Allyria and Dyanna seemed to agree that Ser Dondarrion was a handsome man, tall with orangish hair and masculine features. Jon had no particular opinion on the man's looks, his attention instead at the man's attire and choice of weapons.
Since this was an informal spar, the lord didn't don any sort of armor, opting to use a simple tunic alongside practice breeches, no dissimilar to what Jon himself wore. This meant that Jon had more points to strike, but also reduced the speed advantage he would have over the older lord. The knight opted for a longsword, a few inches shorter than his bastard sword, and a shield with house Dondarrion's coat of arms - a forked purple lightning bolt, on a black field speckled with four-pointed stars.
Jon's advantage in sword length would be nullified by the lord's larger limbs, whereas the shield could be used to block any sort of strike that slipped through his guard.
The bastard sighed once again. Fucking Edric.
"Are you ready?" the master-at-arms asked earning a grunt from the Lord of Blackhaven and a nod from him. "Then you may begin."
It was the older man who moved first, testing his guard with some cautious slashes. For his part, Jon focused mostly on his footwork to maintain a reasonable distance, whilst blocking or parrying the strikes. When Beric changed his strategy, adding sword thrusts to the mix, Jon saw his own opportunity to test the knight. Rather than evading the jab, he responded with a jab of his own, whilst also redirecting the thrust downward using the pommel of his sword and it was only due to the lord's reflexes that he managed to block his attack using the shield.
After that, Lord Dondarrion's strikes were stronger, to the point Jon felt his arms tremble when he used his sword to block a slash toward his midsection. With Beric having the clear edge in strength, Jon decided to rely on his speed and footwork to evade the flurry of strikes coming his way. It worked well in the defensive sense, as the knight never got the chance of a clear strike, but also mean Jon couldn't even bother his opponent.
His arm still hurt from the impact of Beric's previous strike, and his legs started to burn due to his effort. It took more energy for him to avoid a strike than took Beric to deliver it.
Jon grimaced but held his ground, preparing himself for the next wave of attacks coming his way.
Ser Beric decided to continue his pattern of attacks and smirked when Jon backed himself into a corner and had to resort to his sword to fend off the attacks. When Beric sent a powerful blow towards Jon, strong enough to either disarm him or break his guard, the Northman was ready, and changed the grip of his sword in the last possible second, from one hand to two.
It surprised Beric, whose eyes widened when Jon used his superior grip to force back his sword hand. Then Jon decided to use the pommel of his sword to deliver a strike to the knight's gut. Not wanting to stomach the blow, the Ser blocked the attempt using his shield, which was exactly what Jon was waiting for.
He reversed his grip and delivered his fastest strike at the man's exposed head.
Beric ducked at the very last second, but Jon could swear he saw a few strands of his orange mane flying away.
The Ser said nothing, but Jon swore he saw approval in his gaze.
Their next bout was somewhat similar to the one that came before. Beric was somewhat more guarded after nearly losing the spar, but still punished Jon's resistance with his superior strength, whilst the bastard used a combination of footwork and block to defend himself.
Beric feinted a jab, which turned into a slash from his right, forcing him to the other side. Before Jon could prepare his counter-attack, he felt pressure on his right shoulder and cursed himself for only paying attention to the blade.
The lord's shield connected to Jon's shoulder whilst he reestablished his footing, causing him to stumble and fall backward. Sensing defeat, Jon even tried to ditch a final strike, but to no avail as the blade barely missed Dondarrion's thigh.
Before Jon could even try to get back up, he felt cold steel pressed at his throat.
"I yield." He conceded.
The Lord said nothing, glancing at Jon appraisingly. Just Snow could get up by himself he felt the knight's outstretched hand helping him up.
"Tell me, Jon. Would you like to visit the Reach?"
This was my biggest chapter so far, with over 8K words, wrapping up the Dorne Arc. Response to this story has been amazing so far and I wanted to show how happy I am with that by not leaving any sort of cliffhanger.
At first, I wasn't happy with the quality of Jon's dialogue with Dyanna but I felt their last conversation made up for it. So far, most of my chapters were focused on relationships or action sequences, but never both. This was my first attempt at mending the two together, with some important relationship-building dynamics alongside my longest action sequence so far at the end. Next up is a small stop at the Reach before the time skip.
Hope you enjoyed the read.
Now, to answer some reviews:
Pixie Duck – Next time I will make sure to point out these things, it did cause some confusion.
Caciqxe0110 – Things happened a bit differently in this story when compared to the canon events. Ned never went to Starfall to return Dawn, instead, he sent a message for Ashara's brother to meet him as he headed back to King's Landing, hence why Ashara never revealed the existence of Dyanna to him.
RedAlpha22 – It is a possibility, but I won't guarantee anything.
bobbya1 – Jon isn't opposed to the idea of marriage per se, but is totally against breaking his vows or fathering a bastard. In fact, I've heard some theories that said if not for Catelyn being fearful Jon's heirs could attempt to steal Winterfell from Robb's children Jon could easily be married to a house in the North, maybe even taking their name. The Mormonts and Manderlys immediately come to mind as they are the ones with female heirs.
But yes, Jon won't be too focused on romancing, although, in these last few chapters, he starts noticing girls.
Perfectcell69 – I tried to have Jon and Ashara's conversation in this chapter revolve around that exact point. Jon's views in this chapter don't exactly mirror my own, but I doubt Catelyn would ever love a bastard living under her roof.
– There's a Hightower character who will play a huge role in my story, but I'm afraid Baelor won't be it. It's not explained what happened with Vigilance after Ormund was slain at the First Tumbleton, so there's a chance House Hightower no longer has it. Even if they did, it's highly unlikely for a landed lord to gift something as valuable as Valyrian steel. Jon will have a Valyrian steel sword in the future, but it won't be acquired by peaceful means. As for Olenna…I guarantee she will be flabbergasted.
Kitebakabits – I feel the whole premise of Ashara's daughter (whether she's Brandon's or Ned's) is not used enough. The Rising Son had her surviving but she didn't play that much of a role, one of DolorousEdditor's stories had her as Brandon's daughter if I'm not mistaken. But yes, she as a pairing for Jon would be a first, if it happens.
Mandalore the Survivor – Thanks a lot for the review and praise.
Stannis and Ned are more alike than they are different, and I agree with your take. Stannis is maybe even more scarred than Ned as, unlike him, he went through a traumatic event earlier on and never had anything akin to the loving family Ned had.
I will consider your suggestion. ASOIAF lore is extremely deep, and sometimes I'm overly cautious about delving into it, as I can easily overlook some lesser-known facts or aspects. That being said, I feel this will get a bigger emphasis when Jon interacts with more knowledgeable characters as there's a limit to what a thirteen years old can realistically know.
I feel that some of the deepest and saddest stories are like that. Based on a lack of communication, without a 'wrong' side, and at the end without any sort of real winners. I tried to explore Ashara's feelings for Ned as organically as possible, with her taking the more mature approach and Dyanna being quicker to anger when it comes to Ned's actions. The fact she believes Jon is Ned's son will only further showcase why she is so reluctant in letting him know of Dyanna's existence. If I keep Ned alive, Jon will surely confront him over some things he learned from Ashara, thus allowing him to showcase his beliefs.
Ned never truly had a break. His sister was kidnapped; his brother and father were killed whilst demanding justice for her; he had to inherit the title and marry the woman intended for Brandon; saw the carnage of war firsthand… all this propelled by his need to rescue Lyanna. Then she died in front of him and he had to lie to everyone he loved to keep his promise to her.
Ashara, like most of the characters in my story, will be biased for one side or another. House Dayne had close ties with the Targaryens and she, as a friend of Elia could never condone children being killed. I'd say that people glorify the Targaryen rule as they see them as a sort of necessary evil. Robert achieved peace, and was not mad, but indebted the crown to an insane amount, besides surrounding himself with less than stellar people. Even if the WOT5K hadn't happened I can't see Joffrey or Tommen being any better than Robert. As for the North, they could've easily declared their independence any time after the Targaryens lost their dragons and would probably have succeeded. I'd say that the only reason they didn't do so was fear of a civil war with the Throne backing up a rival house (most likely the Boltons) or a case of independence not being seen as worth the effort.
Ariadne Venegas – He will don't worry.
TysonG – Ashara still believes Jon is Ned's son and has no idea who he truly is. The dragon will be back, but further down the road.