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Ashara
The cry of a baby startled her awake. It had been the cry that had woken her up a lot the last couple of nights. Ashara immediately leapt up from her bed and walked into the room, connecting hers. She insisted upon this while plans were made.
It gave the baby a safe place to sleep where he could be quickly cared for if the need arose, and such need arose constantly. It was a welcome distraction from what had happened and what she knew would come.
She reached down into the crib and picked up the crying babe. She pressed him against her body and he seemed to mold against her. Like he was made for it, but Ashara knew he wasn’t. She still held him however. Whispering sweet words into his ears as she rocked him up and down in an attempt to soothe him while cooing gentle words.
The door behind her opened and her handmaiden Wylla appeared. She was a young woman, much like Ashara herself. With long brown hair and green eyes. Along her cheeks were many freckles that one could trace with a paintbrush if they so chose.
“My Lady.” She said. “You don’t need to do that. I can take care of the boy.”
“It’s fine Wylla.” Ashara sighed as she kept rocking the babe. “He just needs a little comfort right now.”
The babe in her arms soon began to quiet down. Closing his eyes and going back to sleep. Yet Ashara didn’t let go, she held the child closer to her and kept rocking.
Wylla didn’t say a word, and neither did Ashara. Both women merely stood in silence as Ashara coddled the baby for a few more minutes before laying him back in the crib.
She bit her bottom lip and held back tears as this crib was not supposed to be his. It was meant for someone else, but now it was being used for him.
“He looks so peaceful,” Ashara whispered. “So unaware of what’s been going on and what’s happening.”
“He does, my Lady,” Wylla replied.
Ashara stood over the crib. Resting her hand on the small baby’s chest. Her chest felt tight looking down at him. So much tragedy had happened, and yet despite that he was still born. A small, innocent baby whose life would always be in danger.
Ashara sighed. “I am at a loss as to what to do Wylla.”
“My Lady?”
“He’s so small, for a babe. And has such an innocence that will soon be taken away from him. The Tullys, they’re so devout to the Seven. That woman, she’ll hate him for what he represents. Is that truly the life for such an innocent boy?”
Ashara could not understand how one could hate a child for the circumstances of their birth. The child did not ask to be born.
“My Lady, won’t her…dislike of him help keep him safe?”
Ashara’s face fell. “Will it truly?” She whispered. “Could you and I both live with ourselves knowing we condemned a child to spend his life growing up hated for something he couldn’t control?”
She looked at the babe’s face, the small tuft of dark hair that would one day grow longer. It was soft, he was soft. Would he remain soft like this if he were to go North with Ned? Or would he become a scared and quiet child to avoid the wrath of the wife? Brought low to keep himself safe. Forced to grow up fast because a woman could not separate the child and father.
Ashara once more felt her heart clench at the thought.
She didn’t sleep much that night. Not after the babe had woken up two more times in the middle of the night. Not with the thoughts that currently swam in her head. About herself, the babe she lost, the babe who currently slept in the room next to hers. About the truth on who he really was.
He should be safe in the North. As far away from King's Landing as possible. But that also meant Ned had to pass by King's Landing first, and if someone put two and two together.
Ashara shuddered at the thought. Those who murdered babes were monsters and there were plenty of those in King's Landing. She felt her mind wander to her dear friend and the death of her children. How baby Aegon was smashed against a wall in front of his Mother. How little Rhaenys was stabbed half a hundred times.
Did Ashara really want to risk that when Ned went back North to pledge his fealty to Robert? Could she stomach the thought of sending an innocent babe into that den of snakes?
Lyanna and Rhaegar’s babe.
Ashara hadn’t known the girl long but Wylla had tended to her before her death and Rhaegar had been a good friend while Ashara served as Elia’s handmaiden in the Red Keep.
Could she truly let their child be at risk of discovery? Could she steel her heart and take such a risk? When Ashara thought about it a second longer she had made her choice. It was a simple one, but one that she would not come to regret.
….
Ashara found little comfort in her brother’s solar. The Lord of Starfall was at Sunspear, no doubt being counsel to Doran Martell on what moves to make next. The rebellion was over, the Targaryens deposed and all those remaining would soon be dead.
Well not all if Ashara had anything to say about it.
Ned entered a few seconds after that thought. Tall, rugged-looking with a sunburned face as he was not used to the Dornish sun. His eyes were a dark gray filled with sadness and his dark hair went down to his neck. He was taller than her by a good few inches yet he looked so small compared to when she had seen him at Harrenhall.
Compared to that night they shared together. What a wonderful and passionate night that was, she had fallen with child and they had plans to marry. But all those plans came crashing down when the war broke out. Now Ned was married to a Tully and the babe she had growing in her belly was lost.
Everything now seemed so bleak.
“I am to leave soon.” Ned’s gruff voice broke her from her thoughts. The sound of which nearly stole the breath from her lungs as he was no older than twenty and yet he sounded as if he were twice that age.
“I’m aware,” Ashara responded though her voice did not feel like her own. She steeled herself however, she knew she’d need her strength. “But before you left I had hoped there were words we could speak.”
“What more is there to be said?” Ned somberly asked. His face seemed to fall even more as he looked away. “What we had can never be and what happened is now a distant memory.”
Ashara closed her eyes and took a moment to compose her thoughts before shaking her head. “That is not what I mean, Ned.”
Ned’s face scrunched in confusion as his brow furrowed. “Then what is it you would wish to discuss?”
“The child…I want him to stay here.”
“Ashara-
“No Ned.” She cut him off. “I’ve thought about it. You’ll take the child back to King's Landing, pledge your fealty to Robert, and then go North. But what if someone were to recognize the child for who he is? What if Robert orders you to kill it? I know you’ve sent most of your host home and you will be surrounded by vipers, cutthroats, and honorable fools who’ll heed their King’s word. Do you truly believe taking Lyanna’s child into the heart of all those who would see him dead is a good idea?”
“He’s kin!” Ned nearly shouted. “Would you have me leave him away from family? Leave the last vestige of my sister away from my eyes? I promised her I would look after Jon, that I would protect him.”
“I understand that. But do you truly want to risk Tywin Lannister catching a glimpse of the boy? Or anyone who may have even the faintest clue about who his parents actually are? You want to claim him as your bastard but you and I both know that bastards aren’t treated as well as they are in Dorne. Do you truly want to subject a child to that? What would your wife think about you bringing a bastard home? Your Tully wife.” Ashara nearly spat the name out.
Ned turned his head and huffed. “You speak her name with distaste. How do I know this desire does not come from a more selfish reason? Do you truly wish to protect this babe or is this some ploy to hurt me by pulling on strings still yet raw?”
Ashara widened her eyes and scoffed. “Do you truly think so little of me?” Her voice began to rise in pitch as she threw her hand to the side. “You kill my brother, bring his sword back, and ask me to help you care for a babe! Did I turn my back on you? Did I send you on your way to let the child die in blistering heat? No, I welcomed you into my home and cared for the child. And you would dare accuse me of trying to hurt you!”
Her hand slammed down on the desk. “How dare you Ned!”
The man at least had the decency to look ashamed as he turned his head away. “And what would you have me think? With heart heavy over the loss of Lyanna-” Ned’s voice choked. “Over Lyanna and our child.” Ashara felt herself choke up as well but Ned pushed on. “You speak my wife’s name with such distaste that it leaves me ill at ease, and you speak true with Arthur being dead because of me. So why, why take on the responsibility of watching over the last vestige of Lyanna when it is not something you have to do?”
Ashara sighed and turned her gaze to the window. She bit the nail of her thumb, not breaking it but chewing. “Because it’s the last thing left of Rhaegar, my friend. Because this war has taken so much from us that I do not wish to see the boy taken as well. I do not wish for him to have the stigma of bastardry take away the light and curiosity that is already in his eyes.”
“You’ve only just met him, Ash.”
“And yet I fear he has taken what remains of my heart, Ned.” Her hand went back to her side and she turned her head. “If he remains here he can thrive. Dorne doesn’t care for bastards, he won’t grow up ashamed of who he is.”
Ned sighed as he stepped forward. His frame covering the sun from the window. Ned was quiet, as if he seemed to be weighing his options. “You make a good argument.” He finally said. His voice was soft as he gazed out the window. “But he will be so far away.”
“He will be safe here. Away from Kings Landing, away from the watchful eyes of those who might chance a guess at his birth.”
“But he’ll be away from me.” Ned sighed. His hand came to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Yet Catelyn will not love him.” He shook his head and stood up straight. “I would hear of your plan.”
Ashara swallowed roughly and braced herself for the words about to spill from her lips. “He’s our bastard. One convinced during the tourney of Harenhall.”
Ned’s eyes widened. “You would allow such a stain on your reputation?” He gasped.
“No one would question it,” Ashara answered. “A bastard born in Dorne to the great and honorable Ned Stark.” Ashara chuckled. “Some won’t even believe the rumors that he exists. A perfect cover story for a Prince no one knows exists.”
At least that was the hope. With Varys still alive there was always a possibility the truth could come out. Or it already had come out. If that were the case Starfall was lucky to have sea access so she could ferry them away.
“If you do this there’s no going back,” Ned whispered. “You’d be branded a traitor if discovered.”
“I’m aware of the risks, Ned. I wouldn’t be offering otherwise.”
Ned hummed, a low deep sound in his voice. “By the Old Gods. Even considering this it feels like I’m abandoning him.”
“You’re not abandoning him, Ned,” Ashara reassured, resting her hand on his forearm.
“It feels like it,” Ned replied, glancing down briefly at her hand.
A war of emotions marred Ned’s face and he bit the inside of his cheek. She could see the thought rolling around in his head as he weighed the options. Both held equal risk of danger for them both. But Ashara did truly believe her option was the safer of the two.
A rumored bastard of Eddard Stark far in the south in the deserts of Dorne. Here he was already safe and would not have to risk the long journey North through multiple kingdoms. Now the more Ashara thought about it there was a high chance the boy could fall ill with the amount of travel required to go North. Something else she could bring up if Ned needed more convincing.
“He’ll be safe?” Ned finally said after minutes of silence. “He’ll be cared for?”
“He’ll thrive, I’ll make sure of it.”
Ned sighed and hung his head. “Then I leave him in your care.”
….
Ashara smiled as the one-year-old Jon stood on wobbly legs. Wylla was watching as well, behind Jon and close by in case he fell. The boy looked around the nursery with wide gray eyes as the sun shone in through the window.
“Come on Jon, walk to me. You can do it.” She softly coached.
Jon babbled something indescribable as he wobbled some more. He seemed more taken with the wall of purple painted stone than to care what she said. But Ashara didn’t care, she merely watched as Jon took in his surroundings and babbled some more.
Then he seemed to look around, smiling dumbly as he noticed his mother before taking a wobbly step forward. Both Ashara and Wylla gasped as he took another step. Before then falling to his knees and crawling the rest of the way to Ashara.
“He walked.” Ashara laughed as she picked him up. “He walked Wylla.”
“Stumbled, my Lady,” Wylla said with a wry grin. “But two steps are still two steps.”
Jon looked between the two women. Confused about why they seemed so happy. But he felt tired so he yawned and placed his head on his mother’s shoulder.
Ashara cooed when she saw this. “Oh, looks like someone’s tired.”
“Shall I go and lay him down my Lady?”
“No need.” Ashara smiled. “I’ll do it myself. Why don’t you go and see yourself to the kitchens in the meantime?”
Wylla gave a quick bow of her head. “As you wish my Lady.”
….
Ashara watched from a small alcove hidden from the two children in front of her. Jon, her two-year-old son, was laughing and giggling while Ashara’s eight-year-old younger sister Allyria played catch with the boy. Jon couldn’t catch the ball for the life of him. Allyria would throw it and Jon would either let it slip through his fingers or let it bounce off his chest.
Allyria huffed and pouted. Her starry blue eyes were shining with annoyance and mirth as she tried to fight back the smile on her lips. “Come on Jon. Catch the ball.”
“I’m trying.”
Allyria threw it again and once more it slipped through Jon’s fingers and bounced on the ground. Allyria groaned loudly as the ball rolled back over to her, slowly.
“Again!” Jon cheered.
Allyria sighed and once more tossed the ball to Jon. This time he was able to catch it and all the weariness seemed to leave Allyria as she opened her hands to catch the ball once more.
….
The fireplace crackled as the moonless night settled over Starfall. Jon sat in Lord Dayne’s solar and looked above the mantle. There lay the sword Dawn, House Dayne’s ancestral sword. A greatsword with a blade pale as milk glass and possibly the most famous blade to exist in the Seven Kingdoms.
Ashara felt her eyes soften and sadden at the sight of it. Dawn had been her brother’s sword, one he wielded with pride and chivalry. She recalled the day when he was finally deemed worthy to wield it. How happy and prideful he had been. How many times he dragged her to the training yard to just show it off to her.
What fun they had.
“Does the blade take your fancy boy?” Lord Dayne asked. He was a tall man with black graying hair and purple eyes. His face was hard like chiseled stone yet his eyes were soft like feathers. He was sickly yet still stood as tall as any man his age. The only thing that still gave him strength was his mana core which kept the flow of mana in his body strong.
The three-year-old Jon nodded his head. “It’s pretty to look at.”
“It is.” Lord Dayne smiled as he stood next to Jon. “Did you know my brother used to wield it?”
Jon was quick to nod his head. A wide grin spread across his face. “Mhmm, they said he was the greatest swordsman to ever live.” Jon turned and craned his head. “Can I be a great swordsman like him someday?”
Lord Dayne smiled as his eyes flicked over to Ashara. “I believe any of House Dayne can become a great swordsman. If their mothers agree to letting them pick one up of course.”
That glint in her brother’s eyes was positively mischievous as Jon’s head whipped around so fast that Ashara was afraid it would fly off. His storm gray eyes were wide and excited, something he shouldn’t be right before bedtime. But her brother always had a way of messing with her in subtle ways.
“Can I Mama? Can I wield a sword? Please?”
Ashara gave her brother a half-hearted glare before looking down at her son. “When you’re older sweetie.”
Jon frowned. “But why not now? You always told me how Uncle Arthur was training with a sword since he could walk. Why can’t I?”
Lord Dayne snorted behind Jon and Ashara shot him another glare. “Because our father wanted something for Arthur to do as a second son. So he had him train to become a knight.”
“So why can’t I do that?”
Ashara sighed and pursed her lips. “Because it’s late Jon. It’s time for bed, not playing with swords.”
“Well, what about tomorrow?”
“Jon,” Ashara said in a tone he knew meant trouble. “Bedtime, now.”
Jon quickly stood up and walked quickly to his room while Ashara sighed. “Did you really have to put that notion in his head?”
Her brother snorted as he walked to his desk. “Arthur was waddling around here with a wooden training sword while the two of you were still in swaddling clothes.”
“Jon’s not Arthur.” Ashara pointed out.
“No.” Her brother agreed. “He isn’t, but with who he is shouldn’t he know how to defend himself?”
“He’s three!” Ashara hissed. “The guards at Starfall can defend him for the time being.”
Her brother gently held up his hand. “I understand your concerns Ashara. But look at it this way. Learning how to use a sword will teach him a certain amount of discipline. Don’t think I don’t know about the mischief he and Allyria cause.”
He was right about the mischief. But it was more Allyria dragging Jon along with her as she got into trouble. Stealing sweets from the bakery, running around the keep, and raising hell for the maids, and many failed attempts at trying to skip their lessons. Or Allyria is trying and failing to get Jon to help her skip her lessons.
Now that Ashara thought about it, she was glad the keep hadn’t burned down already because of how much trouble the two had caused.
“You’re thinking about it.”
“No I’m not.” Ashara scoffed. “Now if you’ll excuse me I must put my son to bed.”
….
Her brother had won in the end. After weeks of Jon pestering her and Allyria roping him into more schemes Ashara finally relented. It was clear Jon had a restless amount of energy and the only one who seemed to be able to keep up with him was Allyria.
But with her in lessons Jon seemed to sit and wait until she came to get him, letting that energy build up even more before it eventually exploded. If lessons with a sword taught him some discipline and tired him out Ashara was all for taking that deal.
To her and everyone else’s surprise, Jon seemed to take to the sword as easily as Arthur did. Although it was only a small wooden sword that Ser Desmond, Starfall’s master-at-arms had crafted just a day before. Jon seemed to actually pay attention to the movements Ser Desmond was teaching him.
It was oddly calming for Ashara to watch her son practice the basics over and over again. Watching as his little brow furrowed in concentration as Ser Desmond fixed his stance or showed him a new form. She felt like a little girl watching Arthur train again while she sat on their Father’s lap.
Though Ashara found it quite amusing at how serious Jon was taking this. He was only a boy of three yet seemed to soak up the knowledge Ser Desmond was imparting to him like a piece of paper on water.
But it was also intriguing. The only boy Ashara could remember taking to the lessons so well was Arthur, and that was because he had a goal in mind for as long as she could remember. To become a knight, and now with Jon training with the same focus, Ashara wondered what Jon had set as his goal.
Would it be like Arthur’s? Or was it something completely different? Perhaps something more innocent? Maybe she was just looking into this too much. Jon was three, maybe he was just a boy excited to swing a pointy stick around for hours on end.
Most boys did like to do that after all. Play with swords, pretend to be knights, and fight in mock battles where they would save the day. A childish innocence she knew would one day be ripped from her son as he grew older. A thought like that made her face drop as she watched Jon reset at Ser Desmond’s instruction and start again.
Ashara turned her thoughts back to her son however. Watching with unmasked pride as he swung and swung and swung. She knew he’d sleep well tonight with all that energy expended.
But as Jon swung his little practice sword again, he stopped and furrowed his brow. Ashara immediately felt as if something was wrong, and Ser Desmond did as well as he approached Jon.
“You alright Jon?” He calmly asked, taking a knee in front of the boy.
Jon slowly nodded but his face scrunched up more. “Yeah, but I feel funny.”
Ashara was already on her feet as Ser Desmond spoke again. “Funny how?”
Before Jon could answer, a sudden force of power shot forth from his sternum and caused Ser Desmond to fly back and crack the stone beneath Jon’s feet. Tiny bits of stone flew everywhere and Ashara had to raise her arms to cover her face as gusts of wind whipped her black hair around wildly.
The sudden gusts didn’t last long and were over within a second. Ashara shot a quick glance over to Ser Desmond who was sitting himself up. He didn’t seem injured, but his black eyes were wide with shock and so were Ashara’s.
Most people who became mages awakened their mana core at the age of 8-9. Some cases happened younger like Aemond the Dragonknight who awoke at the age of six, and only one other person in history who awakened earlier than that.
Aegon the Conqueror who like Jon, awakened as a mage at the age of three.
Ashara already felt the headache coming on as her son looked at her with those wide, gray excited eyes. He was a mage now, and by most accounts a prodigy at that.
She just hoped no one would draw the connection between his feat and the Conquerors.
“Mama! Mama!” Jon shouted as he ran to her. “Did you see that! Did you! Did you!”
Ashara pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind and smiled as she picked her boy up. He had gotten so big since the first time she held him.
“I did.” She softly said, truly proud but worried for her son. “I did.”
“This means I can be a mage now!”
“I know, I know.”
Ashara was now worried about the future. A lot of eyes would now be drawn to Jon. The exact thing she and Ned had wanted to avoid by keeping him here.