Inspired by Yet, Like The Stars, We Fall by Tavina on Ao3

The night was remarkably cold—colder than Ashara Dayne ever recalled her ancestral home being. And despite being South and constantly surrounded by sun and sand, Dorne did get cold, against popular belief.

The wind would turn bitter, and the sand felt like ice slicing through their cloaks. Here at Starfall, the spray from the shore's waters could cause one's breath to stutter.

Tonight was one of those nights. Ashara found little warmth in Starfall, Dorne, or the realm.

The moon was as bloated as she once felt. There were no stars in the sky, and the night was as bleak as her mood.

She couldn't imagine how Starfall looked on this night. The fortress was tall and imposing. The shadows from the moonlight probably made it foreboding, like the whispers of the waves smacking against stones. The Red Mountains looked like daggers on the horizon.

The Palestone Sword was cooler than usual. The cool brick felt like needles against the soles of her bare feet. No one would bother her here; she thought it would be too late if they did. In her heart, she knew what had happened. She felt it. If it wasn't her brother, it was him.

Both were strong in their duty to their vows.

She wondered if it was a betrayal to her brother to even think about him. She wondered if Arthur would show him mercy, or better yet, after all that happened, maybe he wouldn't.

But she had been mourning Arthur before now, and in hindsight, she had been mourning her brother since that damn tourney at Harrenhal.

Her nails scraped against the old stone as she stood on the window's ledge. The night was still, and not even wind displaced her hair as she looked down at the rocks below. She thought it was more accurate to describe those as daggers—a death by a thousand cuts.

She wondered if death hurt worse than what she was feeling now.

She didn't know how to find comfort amongst the living with an empty womb but full, achy, leaky breasts. Where would she go after this? She didn't know how to put a cap on her grief to keep it from overflowing. Her grief would fill the Torentine River for years. She knew the wounds from this war would hurt the realm for generations. Despite Dorne's isolation, the shadow of what has happened would haunt all of the Great Houses.

She had to carry it. She knew she could no longer look in the mirror and see her marred flesh and move past it - especially alone. She wished it would be easier to blame him.

Ashara closed her eyes and inhaled. The sea breeze used to be calming, especially after living in a congested place like King's Landing. Yet, the sea breeze tasted of salt like her tears.

She did not bother wiping her tears. She couldn't turn back now. Maybe it would feel like flying and be nothing—an endless sleep.

As she lifted her foot, the sound of the horn indicating visitors disrupted her grief briefly.

It was strange that not so many moons ago, she would have been elated with the presence of the person who stood before her. She had yearned for his presence the moment they had departed. Despite what was said about her during her time at Court and from being Dorne, she was still just a girl. He saw that somehow, even with his naivety. However, his naivety didn't stop him from their shared night underneath the stars.

She knew she couldn't hold it against him. After all, she was a willing participant. Being Dornish and in court, many men sought her affections that she turned away. Princess Elia's warnings had rang true. Sure, with enough care and discretion, she could live liberally. Yet, Ashara wanted to be above the rumors and scandal. In the end, it wasn't some lord from the South that had uprooted her life and position, but the Northern Second Son of a Great House.

Lord Eddard Stark stood before her battle-worn and bloody. His clothes were embedded with sand, and even his cheeks seemed to have fallen victim to the sun's rays. He was older now - a man. He wasn't the young boy she remembered spinning her in the halls of Harrenhal, drunk off wine and lust.

Her brother's sword lay between them - as their grief.

"You may stay and rest for a fortnight. Gather your strength, I'll have the Silent Sisters tend to Lady Lyanna," she offered.

"Ash - Lady Ashara, I do-"

Ashara cut him off. "I insist, Lord Stark."

He opened his mouth but closed it as he nodded. The silence of her brother's solar was suffocating. He cleared his throat. She knew there were a lot of questions he wanted to ask. "I would be in your debt, my lady."

"Consider the debt paid by returning the sword; other men wouldn't have," she replied, standing up from her chair. "The servants will show you to your quarters. We can discuss further matters tomorrow. I'm sure your mind and body need some rest."

Ned Stark didn't arrive alone.

He had brought with him the crannogman she remembered from the tourney. She recalled being slightly unnerved by his green eyes, but he had been friendly towards her during their few short interactions when Ned had invited her to their tent.

Yet, still, Howland Reed unnerved her as he and Ned were the only two survivors from the Tower of Joy.

The two survivors that they could only let the realm know of.

Ashara looked down at the sleeping infant, unaware of who he was. She could already tell the boy had a Northern look about him. At first glance, he would be easily mistaken for Ned's son. She might have thought that if she didn't know Lyanna - if she didn't know Ned.

The little boy looked so much like his cousin.

Ashara covered her mouth to hold back the sob, and she felt a familiar ache in her breasts, especially as the boy nestled into her chest. She heard a noise, and her head snapped up. Then, she let out a startled gasp at Ned, who was standing silently in the doorway.

He had bathed and was wearing Southoron gear, and she could tell he was uncomfortable without his fur layers. To think she foolishly thought they might have a future in Starfall together. A man like Ned wasn't made for the South.

"My Lord," she greeted softly so as not to disturb the child's sleep.

Ned didn't reply as he stared at her. His eyes looked as bright as the bloated moon in the sky. She recalled the last time she had spoken to Ned in a dimly lit hallway before the war, after the tourney, while he had visited Storm's End with Robert. They had coordinated a visit, and she wished she had never returned any of his ravens and never danced with him at Harrenhal.

She never should have visited him that night. She knew they had gotten lucky at Harrenhal, and the moon tea had taken. Deep down, despite his words and promises, Ashara knew words were wind despite how much she believed Ned as he believed his words. Yet, he promised to talk to his father about a betrothal. He did send letters to her, and the affection was genuine. The moments in Harrenhal weren't bouts of teenage lust and excitement.

Yet, they had played too close with fire for that meeting at that inn. Careless, they both were just like the actions of their siblings.

"My Lady," he returned.

They both knew they were long past such formalities.

Ashara looked down at the sleeping child. "Does he have a name?"

Ned approached slowly. "They both thought he was going to be a girl."

Ashara frowned—a child with no name. "I imagine any Targaryen name picked wouldn't fit since he looks so Northern."

"And what name did you give our child?" Ned said so softly, but she heard. It felt like ice slid down her back, and she tensed, and the small babe's sleep was disturbed.

She stood abruptly, startling Ned as she placed the boy back into the crib.

"Ash -"

"Don't."

She didn't look back as she left the small nursery. Ned didn't follow her.

He never did.

She skipped breaking her fast with her guests. She didn't care about proprietary and duty. She wished for her brother to arrive back on this forsaken island sooner. She found herself on the edge of the shore of the Summer Seas. She longed to be swept into the waves. It was tempting to walk into the water and be swept away. Maybe the seas could wash away her grief.

She felt his presence behind her.

"Did he tell you before or after you killed him?" She questioned.

Arthur had been livid when he heard that Ned had beget a bastard onto her. He had already been infuriated once rumors somehow spread about her spending a night with a Starkl. Even if she had eyed the heir to the North, Ashara wouldn't dishonor herself with a man set to marry. But she had eyes on the second son. She had been able to calm Arthur the first time. Yet, the second time, especially with being sent away from court and a slight bulge she couldn't hide, she had told her brother the truth, and her brother responded the same.

Ned Stark had married another to secure alliances.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Ashara turned to her former lover, her eyes ablaze with anger. "You promised me we would marry; I thought I could trust your word - your honor. Would the knowledge of the pregnancy have stopped you from falling into another's bed?"

"You think I wanted to marry my brother's betrothed? I had to honor the agreement between my Lord Father and hers."

Ashara bristled. "We both know the agreement was for Brandon to marry that ambitious trout's daughter." On the tip of her tongue, the trout played him for a fool because, no matter what, Hoslter Tully would have been a fool not to side with the rebellion. His even garnering a potential alliance with an equally ambitious Northern lord put a target on his back. Yet, as a second son, she knew Ned strayed far from politics.

"Well, it seems he paid for his ambition in the end," Ned muttered softly and in pain.

Ashara's eyes softened slightly. "Is Lady Stark not well?"

"4 moons ago, I received word she…and the babe she was carrying didn't make it."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Lord Stark."

Ned released a broken laugh as he looked out into the sea. "Maybe I angered the Gods with my broken and false promises."

Ashara didn't have any rebuttal or words of comfort. "I named her Arra. She looked like the little babe could mistake them for twins."

The tears came un-restrained. She hadn't quite mastered hiding her pain when it came to her daughter - a daughter she had loved and cherished. A daughter she held in her arms for close to 6 months before she met the Stranger in the quiet of the night.

Ned's arms wrapped around her, and he held her close. Her tears stained his skin, and she felt him kiss her head. For a moment, she allowed him to share in her grief; she took his grief and carried it and wished it would be carried away with the waves.

He never did answer her question regarding her brother.

Her little sister Allyria was amazed by the tiny babe, just as she was when Arra was alive. However, Ashara believed Allryia liked having a live-action baby doll. That was how Ned found them, with Allyria cooing over the baby - still with no name Ned revealed to her. Despite the moment on the shores, Starfall was still tense between them.

With the distance Ashara was trying to maintain, she wasn't privy to the Northern Lord's plans; she only stated they would be granted any provision for a comfortable journey, wherever that may be. Now, Ashara should have done her duty and acted as the Lady in charge because she would have an inkling of the plan the Lord was plotting.

She didn't know whether to laugh, scream, or kiss the poor fool.

She wished her brother, Aaron, was back from Sunspear and wondered if Ned would be so bold as to make such an offer then.

She wanted to ask him if he was trying to play a folly, but she knew he wasn't. Worse, her immediate response wasn't no.

She didn't want Ned's pity or his remorse to make up for his dishonor towards her.

"And what would your Usurper think? Knowing his best friend is making such an offer?"

Her words didn't amuse Ned. "Think Ashara, when I tell Robert what happened to Lyanna…he may not be so kind to a House that helped hold her."

Ashara saw red. "Don't act as if my brother is solely at fault. He did his duty just as you did yours!"

She may be angry at Arthur for playing a role in helping the Prince dishonor their Princess. At the end of the day, Arthur had his orders and his duty. Men always held blind faith in each other and their supposed duty. Her brother wouldn't be any different.

Ned's grey eyes turned to steel. "They'll kill him too, Ashara."

The fight in Ashara deflated at the reminder of her dead princess and her babes. She could curse her brother, Rhaegar, and even Lyanna. She and Ned could have been in one of the castles between here and High Hermitage or even in a renovated Moat Cailin. Princess Elia and her children would still be alive.

Now, it was just an ocean of blood between the realm and even her and Ned. Did she even want to wade through that? She knew she could offer the boy protection here, but whatever happened in that tower, Ned wouldn't allow it.

"You have to name him Ned."

Ned seemed to deflate in relief.

She never thought agreeing to marry Ned would make her feel so sad.