Chapter Text
It was strange no longer being in the North. But Dorne had suffered the least amount of casualties. Their strategy may have been considered to have been cowardly by the other kingdoms, but that didn't mean that they were stupid. Well, Prince Doran at least. They may have considered him no true dornishman, but he was certainly a wise one.
Trystane is like his father in that way. Wise beyond his years underneath his stoic quietude which also strangely enough, reminded her of her own father, Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell. When she had first met him, she thought him an idiot. Especially since that he had been betrothed to Myrcella Baratheon, whom she hated at the time for looking so much like her accursed mother.
So much had happened in the Great War, as many people called it. The Second Long Night, The Dark War.
Myrcella had been promised to Trystane, when she was still a princess. After things had come to light, she found herself feeling unworthy of him, in spite of his and his family's protests. She managed to find a good match in the new Lord Marbrand's son, Tygett. She had often received letters from them both, with Trystane's responses being more cordial. Maybe it was because of this, the Martell's and the Lannister's had gotten the match they wanted, but not in Cella and Trys' union. Surprisingly, her brother Tommen had found himself taken up with one of the younger Sand Snakes; Dorea.
It seemed to be a strange match, but they like each other enough and stranger matches had been made. Like Shireen being married to the newly minted Ser Devan Seaworth and her brother Rickon and Lady Lyanna Mormont. Gendry had been rising high with his new wife as the head of House Heddle. The new Lord Baratheon Edric had taken up with a young Tyrell. Things had changed so much.
There was no great love between her and husband. No children in spite being married for two years. But there was no need for that. They had more than enough fun taking care of the Black Princes; Princess Arianne's triplet sons that she had when the Blackfyre had made his initial plan to marry her. No one had dared to dispute it. In a strange and perverse way, the Blackfyre's had gotten what they wanted; a home and a proper title. Lucos was the youngest and easiest to handle of the three. Garin and Aegor were the more rambunctious and wild of them all; more often shouting with glee that they were dragons and bowed to no one.
"They truly are unbowed, unbent and unbroken!" Trys had said with a chuckle. Though Arianne was still beautiful, motherhood was clearly taking its toll on her. And she was nowhere without any young lord or knight vying for her favour and hand in marriage. Although, she likely wants another night with her brother Jon. She wasn't that stupid, nor was anyone else. Tom and his wife had been the first to comment on how loud they were, to which it actually made the Princess of Dorne blush.
It was strange looking at him and thinking of him as her husband. Her mother and father, Eddard and Catelyn Stark, looked and acted as much as a mother and father as they did as a lord and lady of Winterfell. It was different with Trys. They weren't like Edrick and Sansa, who doted on one another at each possible moment. They were friends. Good friends, some might even say best friends. More often then not, they had sparred more often than giving each other a kiss. He is quite skilled in learning the Water Dance, with many lords and ladies commenting that he is swift and deadly as his famed uncle, Oberyn Martell the Red Viper.
Looking at her sister and her friend, it made her ask just how she did it. She isn't sure if she'll ever really love Trys, but their betrothal and marriages had been made so fast it felt like seconds rather than 3 moon turns. She was doubtful that Sansa would even come to love Edrick Dayne. And yet, the icy mask that her sister made had all but melted when the two had wed and brought to Starfall.
None of it had been easy for either one of them. She never expected or wanted to be a princess, yet she was one. Something that Sansa had wanted nearly all of her life yet a title that was now claimed by her. A title, that she no longer cared for.
"It seems to suit you more than it ever would on me." she said, almost sadly. This lady, this woman, so different from the dreamy little girl who had often said that the best match for her was Hodor the dim-witted stableboy. As much as she loves the women they both are, she sometimes wishes that they were still the same stupid girls fighting over the most silly stupid things. Yet, they are as closer as any one from the North could have hoped for.
More often than not, she and Trys find themselves staying at Starfall rather than Sunspear. She spending time with her sister, simply talking with her about the servants and weary travelers finding their way to her home while she gently rubs her growing belly. Edrick and Trys often sparring and jesting with one another; renewing the friendship they once had when they were little more than babes in arms.
They may not be in the North anymore, but they were still a pack. They are still wolves.