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Chapter Text

Flashes of red hair glinted between budding trees. The joyful voices of young women carried over the rushing water. Horses and sheep grazed together. Birds chirped and flowers swayed. Spring had come again. 

A single raven took flight from the castle upon the peninsula. Sunlight glistened on its feathers as it banked right. It swooped over the young lady whose request was tied upon its leg, and she watched it go, nervous but determined in her choice. She would have stayed until the bird was out of sight, but her cousin was calling her name; there were hills to ride and streams to splash through, and so, smiling, she urged her mare forward.

Across rivers and through the woods, north, north, over muddy roads, flew the raven, to a great castle, though not so great as the one its lord and his children would soon visit. Wolves and elk roamed these parts, their pelts adorning the shoulders of many an inhabitant of the castle. The snow still clung in hollows deep in the Wolfswood, but within the castle’s walls, life was warm and bustling. Men and women moved between the buildings, chatting, carrying baskets and crates, leading horses and dogs. One boy, no more than ten, ran across a courtyard, a missive in hand. He paused at a landing, catching his breath, before entering a room, eyes on the floor. 

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• Council Room, Winterfell Castle, The North; 280 AC (The Year of The False Spring) •

“Mi’lord.” Henry stood in the doorway, his head bowed. “A raven came.”

“Bring it.” Father held out his hand, and Henry quickly crossed to place the roll of parchment in his palm. Beside me, Brandon continued twirling his knife between his fingers, an air of boredom hanging about him. 

“We have been invited to Riverrun before the tournament,” Father said, setting down the missive, and Brandon paused, eyes narrowing slightly. “Hoster’s daughter wishes to meet you again before she accepts our proposal. I think it fair to allow the maiden a chance to know you better, given your…notoriety.”

“Father, I have done nothing—”

“Spare me, Brandon.” Father leaned back, tilting his head and looking annoyed. “You shall charm the girl, without impinging upon her honor, understood? If you so much as brush a finger over her hip, I shall disown you.”

“And if I fail to charm her?” Brandon challenged, leaning on the table, making his bulk clear.

“You shall charm her cousin. Or Eddard shall charm one of them, and I shall wed you to that cunt in the West’s daughter.” Father smiled at Brandon’s disbelieving scowl. “He and the king are no longer on good terms, and there are few he considers worthy of his precious girl. You may have a reputation, but to have a hold in the North is not an offer Tywin Lannister would refuse. That man desires power above all else and he would sacrifice all his children to attain it.”

“You loathe Tywin Lannister,” Brandon pointed out.

“Aye, that I do. But if you cannot manage to secure the more agreeable marriage I have arranged for you, I shall gladly arrange for you to suffer a lioness instead.” Father leaned forward, clasping his hands on the table. “We need to make alliances with the other kingdoms. Strong alliances. The North will be respected. House Stark will be respected. Your brother has already facilitated one such alliance, and your sister has done her duty by accepting it.” He shook his head.

“I am done waiting for you to grow up, Brandon. Eddard understands my ambitions, and has made it clear that he shall assist me in them. If you cannot do the same, by all means, tell me now, so I may name him heir to the North instead of you.” Brandon scowled and Father sighed. “I do not wish to upset you. But you must step into your role, Brandon, or give it up. Those are the only two options.” He waved his hand, dismissing us.

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“Self-righteous scut,” Brandon growled at me as we left the council room. “You could not just stay in your place?”

“I do not know why you are angry at me, I did not ask him to threaten you,” I replied.

“Perhaps not, but you must be so responsible, so helpful all the damn time, mustn’t you?”

“I did not force Robert to make a bid for our sister’s hand. I did not even suggest it! All I did was bring him here.” I arched my brow. “’Tis not my fault you have been too busy whoring about to form any significant connections of your own.”

“I have connections!”

“The Ryswells do not count! They are our loyal vassals!”

“I am friends with the Daynes,” Brandon shot back, cocking his head with a smirk.

“How unfortunate for you that Father does not wish for an alliance with anyone not of a paramount house, for a Dornish wife would likely well suit your appetites.”

“You ought to wed a rock then, for all the appetite you have. A pity Stannis does not have a twin sister.”

“Just because I contain myself does not mean I lack appetite,” I snapped, albeit with little heat. “I am a wolf just as you are.”

“I shall believe that when I see it,” Brandon scoffed. “You can barely ask a girl to dance!”

“Well, ’tis fortunate that you are always hellbent on asking them for me, then.”

“Aye, never let it be said that I do not ensure my siblings have their share of enjoyment.”

We fell into a companionable silence as we crossed the courtyard to the Great Hall, and once seated with Benjen and Lyanna, conversation swirled as quickly as the waters of White Knife. The journey to Riverrun was discussed in length, as was the tournament to follow. Brandon teased Lyanna about Robert, and in turn was teased about Catelyn. Benjen, having never left the North, had a score of questions, many of which I could only shrug at. I suspected it would be a tiring journey, with my three siblings, but as I looked between them, I could not imagine any other group I would wish to be with.

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We arrived at Riverrun a fortnight later. Spring was in full bloom here, flowers and birds and great fields of beautiful, lush grass. Our horses had been in excellent moods for several days, with the improved grazing. I had spent the journey primarily alongside Father, in enjoyable silence. Lyanna and Benjen had ridden behind us, remarking upon everything, and Brandon had been a few meters back from them, surprisingly quiet. In the evenings, he and I spoke of the girls who awaited our arrival, pondering on their characters. Brandon, although still hot-blooded, seemed to have taken Father’s warning to heart, and was determined to please Hoster’s daughter, discussing his plans for wooing her by the light of the campfire.

Inside the drawbridge, we dismounted and handed off our horses. Hoster Tully greeted Father jovially, motioning to his brothers, and the four exchanged the usual pleasantries. Looking about the courtyard, my eyes were quickly drawn to the circle of red hair at the bottom of the steps to Riverrun’s Great Hall. I nudged Brandon, tipping my head slightly. He followed my gaze, brow arching as he saw what had caught my attention. We’d met the Tully girls before, and thought them pretty, but it had been three years since our last encounter, and the two eldest had blossomed in that time. One glanced over, catching us looking at them, and smiled softly before turning and saying something to her cousin. She laughed, then leaned in to whisper a reply. 

“Fancy going fishing, brother?” Brandon said quietly. I huffed, and he chuckled. “I have been told that Catelyn and her cousin are rather inseparable. So I suppose ’tis good you enjoy the look of her, for I am certain the pair of you shall be tasked with chaperoning my intended and myself.”

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Having exchanged the expected pleasantries with Lord Stark, Uncle Hoster greeted the two young men beside him. Catelyn and I examined them, searching for any detail as to their characters. We had heard of them, certainly; the great wolves, one wild and gallant, the other solemn and dutiful, both unflinching warriors. Before we could exchange a whisper of our initial thoughts, Uncle Hoster turned to our circle, motioning us forward.

“Lord Stark, Brandon, Eddard, may I present my daughters, Catelyn and Lysa, and my nieces, Alyssandra, Bellena, and Irene.”

We all curtsied and the two young lords bowed. I caught Catelyn’s eye, and gave her a tiny smirk, which she returned. These two, in their furs and leather, strong and stoic, would be a delightful challenge; one to tame, one to draw out. I could tell Catelyn was already pleased with her intended, which left me the shy second son. Not that I minded, for it would be far more fun attempting to get a reaction out of him than it would be to simply flirt openly.

“Cat, Alyss, ’tis a lovely day; why don’t you show the Stark lords around the grounds?” Hoster subtly stepped between us and the other three, indicating that they were to stay behind.

“We’d be glad to, Father.”

“Certainly, Uncle.”

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Once free of the others, Catelyn and I linked arms, the young lords falling into step on either side of us. The sun glittered on Red Fork, the birds chirped in the trees, the grass and leaves rustled gently. It was exactly as spring should be. For a moment, none of us spoke, the sounds of reawoken life filling the air.

“Lord Tully was rather eager to send us off with you,” Brandon observed as we entered the gardens, looking between us.

“My father is very proud of our gardens, my lord,” replied Catelyn, giving him a demure smile. “Even in winter, they are quite beautiful.”

“And our fathers are hoping that Cat and I shall be wives before our next namedays,” I added.

“Your lord fathers are keen to see you wed?” Brandon asked. 

“They are keen to be rid of us, more like it.” Catelyn lightly elbowed me, and I laughed. “What? ’Tis the truth, cousin. You know we tire them so.”

“We do not tire them any more than Edmure and Lucas,” Catelyn pointed out.

“But they are sons, and so their tiresomeness is more tolerable.” I sighed, then looked up at Eddard. “Does your sister tire your lord father?”

“Not nearly so much as Brandon does, my lady.” Eddard arched his brow at his brother.

“Ah, yes, your brother does have rather a reputation.” I flicked my eyes to Brandon, then back to Eddard, giving him a knowing smile.

“Has this reputation informed your opinions of me, my ladies?” Brandon asked, a confident spark in his eyes.

“It informed our expectations.” Catelyn raised her brows, looking him over. “Thus far you have met them, my lord. But we shall see what the moon brings.”

“Give me whatever test you like, my lady, and I shall put every effort into passing it.”

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The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly, as did supper and the following three days. We would have a great feast at the fortnight mark, with our banners and many of the North’s, to celebrate the continued alliance between Tully and Stark. Regardless of Catelyn and Brandon, Uncle Hoster and Lord Stark had issues to attend to together, and at the end of the fortnight, hopefully they would have settled them. But for now, it was only trout and wolves dining together. Lucas and Benjen had taken an immediate liking to each other, discussing all the sorts of things boys of four and ten can think of. Brandon and Catelyn also seemed to be getting along splendidly, leaving me to entertain Eddard and Lyanna, as Lysa and Bellena were quite wrapped up in their own fancies. Not that I minded; both wolves were lovely to converse with, although quite different personalities. 

“Lyanna,” I turned to her, the conversation Lucas and Benjen were engaged in on horse breeds prompting a thought, “would you care to join me and Cat for a ride on the morrow, after breakfast?”

“I would be delighted to,” Lyanna answered, smiling.

“Father, might we borrow Perch in the morning?” Catelyn called, turning towards the high table. “He’s a good size for Lyanna.”

“Certainly.” Hoster nodded. “He could use a good run.”

Catelyn smiled at Lyanna, then turned back to Brandon, resuming their conversation. I glanced across the table to see Eddard frowning. He caught my eye and looked quickly away, his brow drawing lower. 

“Lord Eddard, if you wish to join us, you need only ask,” I said. “If your own steed is not up for the adventure, we have more.” He sighed and slowly looked up again.

“Ned. Everyone calls me Ned.”

“I think you’ll find that I am not everyone, my lord.”

We stared at each other for a moment; there was a new, faint spark in his cold eyes. I smiled softly, dipping my head slightly, aware that Catelyn and Brandon had quietly turned their focus to us. 

“Do you wish to accompany us, Eddard?”

He huffed drolly, the spark flaring briefly, and shook his head. “I would like to accompany you, yes. If only to be certain my foolish sister does not run you off a cliff.”

“You care so for my wellbeing, my lord?” I asked, arching a brow.

“I care to see the world not lose such a delightful woman,” he answered quickly. He flushed, his words seeming to have escaped without his permission. Brandon chuckled and Lyanna rolled her eyes. My own eyes darted to Catelyn, who gave me the smallest of smirks.

“My lady, I only meant—” Eddard began.

“’Tis fine.” I waved my hand. “I thank you, my lord, for the compliment. I shall add it to my collection.” I gave him a smug look, then returned my focus to Lyanna, letting Ned (for though I would continue to call him Eddard, except when in the throes of pleasure or rage, he would from thence on be Ned in my mind) stew for the remainder of the evening.

Chapter Text

The day dawned clear and warm, perfect for a ride through the hills. I awoke with a spring in my step, letting the happy anticipation of showing Lyanna more of the Riverlands carry me through dressing and doing my hair and breaking my fast. Catelyn and I soon were in the courtyard outside the stables, watching the Starks minus Benjen approach. Lord Stark stopped in front of us and turned, looking between his three children with a stern expression.

“Eddard, keep them in line.”

Ned nodded, solemn as usual, then Lord Stark dipped his head to me and Catelyn and walked away again. Catelyn smiled at Brandon, leading him into the stables to meet her horse. I followed with Lyanna, Ned a few paces behind like a wary dog.

“Here’s Perch,” I said, gesturing to a small liver chestnut. “He’s a perfect lady’s horse, sensitive and sound-minded, while also having plenty of spirit.”

“You know him well,” Lyanna commented, gently stroking Perch’s shoulder.

“I started him,” I replied proudly. “I started all of the horses my sisters and cousins now ride, along with the ponies used by Edmure and the other young ones. My father has been fond of horses since his youth, and although he wed a Blackwood, he has had many dealings with the Brackens in the pursuit of filling Riverrun’s stables with fine mounts.”

“Your father allows you to back colts?” Ned asked incredulously.

“Aye. Why should he not?” I crossed my arms. “I am clever and very gentle with them, and I am the proper size.”

“I beg your pardon, my lady. I only meant, most lords would not wish to put their daughters in positions of possible injury.” Ned glanced at Lyanna. “No matter how sturdy those daughters may be.”

“I may not be a Northerner, but I am hearty enough,” I answered. “Besides, my father knows better than to go against me on such things. Tully women are not easily swayed.” A stableboy had stepped up to help Lyanna ready Perch, and, deeming her suitably cared for, I turned fully to Ned. “Would you like to meet mine, my lord?”

Ned followed me back outside into the soft morning sunshine and around the stables to the paddocks. I walked up to the first gate and whistled. A moment later, Meleys came trotting out from behind a group of trees, the light bouncing off her polished coat.

“There she is!” I opened the gate and caught her, leading her back to Ned. “My lord, may I present Meleys of Blackwood, my beloved charger. Meleys, meet Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell.”

“She’s the same color as your hair,” he noted, holding out a hand for her to sniff. 

“’Tis one of the reasons I chose her,” I replied. Meleys bumped her nose against Ned’s chest, looking for attention. He complied, scratching her neck gently, and she happily leaned into his touch. 

“Hmm.” I tilted my head, watching him. 

“What is it, my lady?”

“She is not generally fond of men, my lord.” I grinned at him. “She has all the stableboys half scared she’s going to bite their manhood right off.”

“And yet you asked me out to meet her?” Ned arched his brow, continuing to pet Meleys.

“’Tis a good test, my lord.” I began to lead her back to the stables, Ned falling in next to me.

“Of what, my lady?”

“Your worthiness.” I smiled at him, receiving a head tilt in return. “You may not have the reputation your brother does, but that does not mean you are above reproach.”

“No, my lady, I suppose it does not.” He thought for a moment. “Do you have reason to reproach me?”

“My only criticism of you, Eddard Stark, is that you do not seem to realize how much enjoyment lies all around you,” I replied. 

“I do not?”

“No. But I do not think that is a permanent fault. You simply need someone to show it to you.”

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Lyanna laughed as she pulled up beside me, Catelyn just behind her. Ned and Brandon, upon their heavy Northern steeds, had had no chance of keeping up. Horses puffing, we waited for them, gazing out over the meadows and rolling hills. It had been a relatively short winter, but spring always felt so reviving. To see the green again, to hear the birds chirping, was to be reminded that one was alive. How one fared in the dreary North was beyond me.

“So, Alyssandra, how do you like Ned?” Lyanna asked after a moment.

“What?” I blinked, startled by her question. Beside her, Catelyn smiled mischievously at me.

“My brother, you know, the grumpy one?” Lyanna cocked her head. “Made friends with your man-hating horse earlier? What do you think of him?”

“Well, thus far I find him pleasant,” I answered, trying to ignore how my heart had picked up speed.

“Only pleasant?” Lyanna frowned dramatically. “That is a shame. I had hoped you might like him more than that.”

“Tell me more about him, and perhaps I shall.”

But before she could, Ned and Brandon caught up with us. Brandon pulled up alongside Catelyn, immediately complimenting her, to which she rolled her eyes. Ned halted between me and Lyanna, looking from me to her with mild disapproval. Lyanna huffed, giving me an exasperated expression.

“That was unladylike,” he chided. “You ought not to go so swiftly. ’Tis not safe.”

“I have found, my lord, that when men call a lady’s actions ‘unladylike’ ’tis often because she has beaten them in some way,” I responded. “Your brother does not seem to care that we ran off; it appears his ego is stiffer than yours.”

“’Tis bigger and more bloodied, certainly,” Brandon remarked with a wink at Catelyn. Lyanna laughed again, my own giggle hidden behind my hand. Ned sighed, an air of long-suffering about him.

“A robust ego may be of benefit to a man amongst the other men, but it does not mean much to a woman if he wields it poorly,” Catelyn told him, pursing her lips and arching her brow.

“I can assure you, my lady, I am very adept at wielding it,” Brandon replied, a cocky grin on his face.

“And women are very adept at pretending, my lord.”

Catelyn gazed at him for a moment more, then turned her horse and began back down the hill. Brandon, looking stunned, quickly followed, catching up to her and attempting to resume their conversation. Lyanna glanced at me, then tipped her head towards Ned. I subtly furrowed my brow; she arched hers. I rolled my eyes, giving her a small smile. She grinned, and turned to her brother.

“Dear brother, I wish to ride alone for a bit. Would you mind if I left you in the care of our new friend?”

“You do not mean to ride off, do you?” Ned asked, suspicion clear.

“Of course not!” Lyanna waved a hand, already turning to follow Brandon and Catelyn. “I shall stay between my brothers. I simply desire some time with my thoughts.”

Ned and I rode in silence for a long stretch, Lyanna thirty feet or so in front of us. He was not much for conversation, and I had no desire to force it. It was pleasant enough to ride beside him. He asked a few questions about the birds we saw, although none enough to stimulate more than a brief answer until I noticed a goshawk, quietly pointing it out.

“Robert’s brother had a goshawk,” Ned said, watching the bird take off from the branch it had been perched on. “He found it, injured. Poor thing never fully recovered.”

“That is sad.” I glanced over at him. “Are you fond of birds? You have asked about a number of them.”

“I am not particularly fond of birds, my lady, but rather am fond of observing creatures in general. Although I do greatly enjoy hawking.”

“Hm.” I tilted my head and he raised his brow, silently asking. “I would not have thought Northerners would enjoy what seems to be a more refined method of hunting.” Ned cocked his head, and I quickly added, “I mean no offence, Eddard.”

“I have told you, you may call me Ned, as everyone does.”

“And I have told you, I am not everyone.” I looked him over. “Ned is not special. Eddard is.”

“You think me special?” His surprise was obvious, his eyes widening then blinking rapidly, his lips slightly parted. I smiled and pushed Meleys closer to his dark bay garron, forcing him to tilt his head slightly down to meet my gaze.

“I think I am special,” I answered. “For you do not seem the type to be at ease quickly with strangers, but you have been quite calm with me. Ergo, I am special to you, and thus am allowed to call you Eddard.”

“You cannot just state that you are special to me,” Ned groused, his frown returning. His cheeks flushed, however, and his eyes darted down, taking in the exposed skin where the ties of my shirt had come loose.

“Careful there. I can see your gaze,” I teased, giving him a flirtatious smile.

“I was admiring your hair,” Ned defended himself, gesturing to the braids that hung long over the front of my body.

“Mmm, I am sure you were.” He huffed, pointedly looking away from me. “Oh, come now, my lord, ’tis no sin to look! You have made no comment nor have you crowded my person. Your eyes drifted briefly, in an appreciative manner.”

“Still, I ought to have more restraint. You are a lady,” he grumbled.

“Well, you could always give me something to look at. Then we would be even.”

Ned gaped at me, seemingly scandalized by my proposition. I shrugged and turned forward again, nudging Meleys away from the dark bay. I was about to urge her into a trot, to catch up to Lyanna, when I felt a hand at my elbow. Ned was studying me intensely, as a farmer might inspect a newborn calf. I drew Meleys to a halt, forcing him to stop beside me. For a long moment, we stared at each other, me waiting for him to break, him seemingly attempting to figure out a graceful way to do so.

“You would suggest I expose myself to you?” he finally asked. “In the middle of the woods?”

“Oh by the Old Ones.” I rolled my eyes. “I did not request you whip out your cock, Eddard. I merely suggested you might allow me a peek at what you are hiding under all your well-tooled leather.” I gestured at his chest. “I am confident there is quite the man under all that, given your breeding.”

“My breeding?”

“You are a Northerner, through and through. The North is harsh, it breeds hearty men.” I pulled my arm out of his grip and bumped Meleys forward again. Ned quickly urged his own mount forward as well, looking somewhat confused, but saying nothing. I allowed him a few moments, then sighed and turned towards him once more.

“Forgive me, my lord. I have been told my mouth is not always that of a proper lady. Catelyn is the refined one, you shall find.” I looked down at Meleys’ ears, draping my wrists over the pommel of my saddle, reins held softly in one hand. “Our septa frequently tells me I could only be loved by a heathen Northerner.”

“If that is true, then why do you ask my forgiveness?” Ned’s tone was sincere, and when I flicked my eyes towards him again, I found no trace of mockery in his face either. He watched me calmly, more open than he had been only moments before.

“You are not a heathen, my lord,” I answered.

“You do not know that,” Ned replied. “You have known me five days; that seems very little time to make such an assessment.”

“You are honorable, Eddard. Dutiful and respectful. Pious, in the old way.”

“Hm, Blackwoods also follow the Old Gods, don’t they,” he said, almost to himself. “You understand my worship.”

“Aye. Another reason I suppose I am better suited to a Northern husband than a Riverlander.”

“Any lord would be lucky to have you, regardless of where he calls home.” Again, it seemed the words had left him without his permission, and he flushed. I smiled, reaching over to place my hand on his forearm. Ned stared at it as though it was the first hand he had ever seen.

“Thank you, Eddard.”

He nodded stiffly with a small grunt. I retracted my hand, still smiling to myself. The remainder of our ride back to the castle was silent, but something had shifted. I was still reviewing the conversation as I put Meleys away (the stableboys refused to handle her any more than they had to, which was fine with me), when Petyr came into the stables.

“Alyssandra, good afternoon,” he said respectfully.

“Petyr.” I dipped my head. “How are you today?”

“I am well. Just back from a ride?” I nodded. “How was it?”

“Lovely.” I smiled. “Catelyn and I took the Starks, besides the youngest, out through the hills.”

Petyr frowned, but before he could reply, Ned approached, asking if I needed any help. Petyr crossed his arms, glaring, as I handed Ned a rag and he began to gently rub Meleys down. She leaned into his touch, her lip quivering in happiness.

“Oh, pardon,” I said after a moment, having been distracted by my mare and her new cherished friend. “Eddard, have you met Petyr, my uncle’s ward?” Ned shook his head, tossing the rag over his shoulder and holding out a hand. Petyr reluctantly shook it.

“Eddard Stark.”

“Petyr Baelish.”

Ned nodded, then resumed Meleys’ rubdown. Petyr turned back to me, somewhat expectantly. I glanced back up after a moment from wiping off my tack and raised my brows. He sighed heavily, leaning against the wall.

“Is Catelyn still here?” he asked, trying not to look eager. I mentally rolled my eyes, but kept my face neutral.

“She’s putting Salmon away.”

“Thank you.”

He pushed off the wall and walked away, everything about him far too confident for his position. I sighed, shaking my head. I caught Ned looking at me out of the corner of my eye, and turned towards him.

“He thinks he has a chance at her hand,” I told him. Ned paused, blinking at me, until Meleys reached around and nosed at him, demanding he continue. He gave her an amused look and complied.

“He has some ridiculous infatuation with her,” I said, shaking my head again.

“What is he, two and ten?” Ned scoffed.

“Four and ten, same as Lucas and Benjen,” I corrected. “But still, too young for her. And far, far below her station. His father is but some petty lord in the Fingers. Even if she liked him, my uncle would never allow it.”

“Brandon shall not allow it,” Ned muttered. “He’ll geld the lad before he lets him have her.”

“We would likely be better for it,”  I replied. “I am sure his manhood shall wreak havoc, if it does not already.”

Ned grunted in response, easily adjusting as Meleys desired. My heart swelled, watching him tenderly care for her. Trouble, to allow yourself to feel so quickly. Oh, but what a good father he would make. I wonder if he wants children. I want children. I would want many children with a man like that.

“My lady?” I blinked rapidly, finding Ned standing right in front of me. “Are you alright?”

“Forgive me, yes, I am fine.” I stood and took Meleys. “Thank you for taking care of her. She really has taken a shine to you.” Ned shrugged. “’Tis no small compliment, ask anyone here.”

Ned simply dipped his head as I left, returning Meleys to her paddock. When I returned to the stable, he was waiting with Lyanna, both leaning against a wall as Brandon told Catelyn some story that they had evidently heard before, in copious detail. I grabbed Lyanna’s hand and pulled her away towards the gardens, Brandon and Catelyn following, and Ned, with another put-upon sigh, bringing up the rear.

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The fortnight passed quickly, with rides and discussions and meandering walks through the flowers. In honor of our continued alliance, Riverrun was filled with our bannermen and many of the Starks’, on their way to Harrenhal. Our peaceful castle was suddenly overrun with guests, something Catelyn (in her eagerness to prove herself ready to be a Lady Paramount), along with Lysa and Bellena (always looking for more boys to flirt with) found all-around thrilling, but which I had complex emotions about. I enjoyed attention and gossip, but there were a number of men now in my home who I did not enjoy in the slightest, and I knew I would have to be on guard to avoid being cornered by any of them at the feast.

Supper passed without incident, mostly due to the fact that I was seated between Lyanna and Irene, across from Ned, Catelyn, and Brandon. The closest annoyance was Lucas, and his irritation was only of the standard younger brother sort. But then the dancing began. I managed to beg off a number by keeping my young Blackwood cousins close, but they were too soon shuffled off to bed, and I knew I would be forced to endure yet another evening of unwanted touches and conversation duller than a sparring sword. Brandon, taking a break from dancing as Catelyn crossed the room to speak with one of her Whent cousins, sat next to me. He looked over at Ned, then turned back to me with a grin.

“Lady Alyssandra, would you be so kind as to dance with my brother? He is too shy to ask you himself.”

“I would be happy to, my lord.” I stood and turned, holding out my hand. “Lord Eddard?” Ned huffed, but rose and took the offered hand, letting me lead him to the dance floor. We began the dance, and although he knew the steps, it was painfully obvious that he was doing them out of obligation, not joy.

“You must relax, my lord!” I teased. “You are too stiff to enjoy yourself!”

“You are very comfortable with many eyes following you, my lady. Not all of us are,” Ned replied, although he relaxed marginally.

“Is it all the eyes?” I spun away, then back again, placing myself closer to him, my Tully blue skirts swirling around his legs. “Or is there a specific pair you do not wish to see you take a misstep?”

“I am generally not fond of having so many eyes upon me, my lady,” Ned answered, his gaze now avoiding mine.

“So there is no lady here whom you are hoping to impress?” I needled.

“Ought there to be?” Ned returned.

“Not necessarily.” I twirled out and back once more. “But surely, my lord, you have noticed the attention you garner?”

“Ha,” Ned scoffed. “Brandon garners attention. I am simply with him.” I chuckled and his eyes dropped to me, brow furrowed. “What amuses you? I have made no jest, my lady.”

“Your brother has his charms, aye, but not every maiden wishes for such a rogue.” I arched my brow, shifting closer to him, my overdress brushing against his doublet. “Some wish for a brooding, quiet wolf, my lord. A man only she truly knows.”

“Do you wish for such a man, Lady Alyssandra?” Ned asked quietly.

“Perhaps, if such a man were inclined to woo me.” I gave him a teasing smile. “Although even if he were not, I would be happy to be in his company, for I do quite enjoy being friends with those more prickly amongst us.” Ned’s brow furrowed thoughtfully, and I let the remainder of the dance go by without further conversation. The song ended and I parted from Ned to clap along with everyone else, although I stayed near him.

“My lady, I thank you for the dance.” Ned dipped his head, and went to move away, but, spotting an unwelcome suitor making his way towards us over his shoulder, I grabbed his hand and pulled him into me again as a new song began.

“Forgive me, my lord, but Ser Hugh was approaching and I sincerely wish to avoid dancing with him.” I grimaced. “His hands have a tendency to wander.”

“There is nothing to forgive.” Ned carefully placed his hand high on my back as we began another dance. “I am glad to keep a lady safe from unwanted advances, particularly one as lovely as yourself.”

“You are likely agreeing to more than you think,” I warned. “Ser Hugh is persistent. I may well require your protection for the remainder of the evening.”

“Then so be it.” Ned smiled, the first I’d seen from him, and my heart sputtered. My mind went blank as I stared up at him, those icy eyes suddenly welcoming, that stern brow suddenly soft. His canines were longer than most, and sharp—a reminder of the rumors surrounding his family.

What would they feel like at my throat? Heat flickered in my stomach and an ache bloomed between my legs. I shall have him. This one shall be mine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“My lady?” Alyssandra’s eyes had widened, something I might have called reverence contained in her expression, had it not been aimed at me. Gratitude. She is simply grateful to not be subjected to distasteful touches. 

“Forgive me, my lord.” She blinked and smiled demurely. “My mind wandered momentarily. I caught a glimpse of my cousin, and thought of the wedding. It shall be quite the affair.”

“Are you envious?” She shook her head, spinning around me effortlessly, her hair flying like some fiery storm.

“I was not meant to wed a Warden,” she said as she faced me again. “I am the daughter of a third son of a Paramount House, and my mother is the cousin to a High Lord, so while a Warden’s brother or second son is within reach, a Warden himself is not an expectation I ever had. My wedding shall be lovely, to be sure, but nothing so grand as Catelyn’s. Certainly not now that the other party shall be your brother.”

We danced another three dances together and I lost myself in her shining hair and beautiful laugh. We were on our fifth dance when it happened. I spun her out. She twirled back to me. But instead of returning to my shoulder, her hand came to the back of my neck. Her bright, soft eyes met mine with a new intensity and I forgot how to breathe. If I had not already been flushed from the dancing, I certainly would have immediately given myself away. My fingers dug into her waist in an effort to ground myself, and she inhaled shakily. 

“Lady Alyssandra,” I began, but she shook her head. She glanced over her shoulder towards her father and uncle, and finding them in conversation with Halys Hornwood, subtly guided me to the edge of the dance floor, then tugged me into the shadows of the balcony. She didn’t say a word as she quickly pulled me into a corridor, then down it and out to an upper terrace. Outside, she released my hand, taking a deep breath and moving towards the wall, looking out over Tumblestone River.

“My lady, for what purpose have you brought me here?” I stayed where she had left me, desiring to avoid accidentally crossing a boundary with her. If she wished for me to approach, she would say so.

“For the purpose of having an uninterrupted conversation, my lord.” Alyssandra turned to face me. She tilted her head, seemingly surprised to see me standing so far away, then held out a hand. My eyes flicked between it and her face, trying to discern her intentions.

“Will you not stand with me, my lord?” Alyssandra asked softly. “The view is quite pretty from here, even in the darkness.”

It could not hold a candle to you.

I approached and took the offered hand, tucking it into my elbow. The river below glimmered in the moonlight as the spring breeze rustled in the trees. It was probably very pretty, but I had eyes for naught but her. Alyssandra sighed, gazing out at the dark hills pensively.

“Thank you, again, for keeping me from Ser Hugh,” she said quietly after a minute. “He does not seem to comprehend rejection.”

“I could punch it into him for you, my lady,” I replied sincerely.

“You do not have to go to such a measure.” Alyssandra turned towards me with a small shake of her head, her free hand coming to rest lightly on my upper arm. “I would not have you risk harming yourself simply to keep me from a few awkward dances.”

“I do not think he poses much threat. I have been fighting my hulking brute brother for nearly twenty years, I am quite capable.” She smiled and warmth blossomed in my chest. “I would gladly risk injury to maintain your happiness, my sweet lady.”

Alyssandra inhaled sharply, then surged up, her hands moving to the back of my neck as she pressed her lips to mine. I grabbed her waist, holding her firmly, heat rushing from my chest to between my legs.

“Eddard,” Alyssandra breathed, moving to kiss my jaw, her fingers in my hair.

“My lady,” I whispered, hands trailing up and down her sides. “I do not wish to dishonor you.” I do, I do, oh do I desire to dishonor you. I desire to sully your honor in every way possible. I will not. But I desire to. 

“Then stop me,” she murmured as she pressed her body fully against mine, certainly feeling just how much I wished to drag her honor through the mud. She licked my throat and I nearly released then and there, a quiet, broken sound leaving me.

“Move me away from you,” she dared, tipping her head back to look coyly up at me. I stared down at her, caught between honor and a lust magnitudes more powerful than any I had felt before. Alyssandra gazed back at me, her own eyes lit with desire. I reached up to fiddle with a bit of her hair, the silky strands slipping through my fingers sending a tingle through me.

“Aly!” Catelyn’s voice broke the quiet around us. “I know you’re out here!” She rounded the corner before we could properly distance ourselves, Brandon at her side, Lysa and Bellena following.

“Alyssandra Tully!” Catelyn crossed her arms. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing!” Alyssandra quickly pushed me away. “I wished to speak with Lord Eddard without any of those oaf knights intruding; is that a sin?”

“It did not seem like your mouth was particularly engaged in speaking,” Catelyn replied, raising her brows and cocking her head. Brandon smirked beside her. I ducked my head, suddenly very grateful for the formal occasion and thus the surcoat I wore; my breeches had not been this uncontrollably tight in years.

“Oh shut up,” Alyssandra huffed. “Do you have a reason for interrupting us or are you simply finding pleasure in my annoyance?”

“Our fathers seek us,” Catelyn answered with a sigh. “Reports to be made, prospects to be discussed.”

“Leaving me be would have given them a better answer,” Alyssandra grumbled. “You could have simply told them I was privately engaged.”

“Oh, aye,” Catelyn laughed, “that surely would have gone over well. Come,” she held out a hand to Alyssandra, “best not to keep them waiting.”

“It seems I must take my leave of you, Lord Eddard,” Alyssandra said, giving me a smile. I brought her hand up and gently kissed it.

“Until the morrow, my dear lady.”

Alyssandra blushed, and my mouth (and loins) twitched happily. She held my gaze for a second longer, then turned and took her cousin’s hand.

“Goodnight, my lords,” Catelyn said, looking between me and Brandon. I dipped my head to her as she and Alyssandra turned to walk away.

“Goodnight, fair lady,” Brandon replied, then added, “I shall look to see you in my dreams tonight!”

“I am certain I shall not dream of you!” Catelyn called back, her sister and cousins giggling. Brandon sighed longingly, a drunk-like smile on his face. He watched her disappear inside, then turned to me.

“Lady Alyssandra is rather a pretty thing, is she not?” he teased, grinning.

“She is lovely,” I agreed, leaning against the wall with a sigh. “A delight to converse with.”

“Of course you would comment on her conversation.” Brandon rolled his eyes. “Come now, Ned, you have spent all that time with Robert! Can we not talk openly?”

“Her conversation was lovely, why must I comment on something else?” Her soft hand clasped in mine. Her sweet smile as she looked up at me, her summer sky eyes bright with mirth. Her lithe fingers on my spine. Her flaming, flowing hair flying about as she effortlessly twirled.

“I swear, do you even like women?” Brandon asked, shaking his head and knocking me from my wandering thoughts. “Her tits were pressed right up against you! She had her hands on your neck!” I grunted, and his mouth twitched mischievously. “You know, I heard from Denys Mallister and Ronald Vance that she’s not the naive, pristine lady her cousin is. Apparently, that mouth of hers is adept with much more than conversation.” I said nothing, clenching my fists, and Brandon leaned closer. “She seems rather smitten with you. I’m sure if you asked, the fair lady would give you a demonstration of her talents.”

“Would you shut up?” I snarled, his words conjuring up images that did nothing to lessen the discomfort in my breeches. “Why must you speak about every woman with such disregard?”

“Easy, brother.” Brandon arched a brow and raised his hands. “Do not hurt yourself, experiencing emotion for the first time. You ought to perhaps try being happy first, before you fly into a passionate rage.”

“I am not in a passionate rage,” I grumbled, glaring down at the river. 

“Fine, a possessive one, then.” Brandon draped himself over the wall next to me, offering me a flask from his pocket. I eyed it for a moment, then took it. The Riverlands brandy was smoother than what we made in the North, fitting for such a soft, green place.

“You quite fancy her,” Brandon observed. I shrugged. “Oh come on, Ned. You are never so animated. I must admit, when I challenged you to prove yourself a wolf, I did not expect to be answered so soon, certainly not over a girl you barely know.”

“You also barely know her, and yet you feel entitled to speak freely about her.” I frowned at him. Brandon sighed, grabbing the flask back and taking a long drink.

“I meant no harm,” he said plainly. “She is a lovely lady. And it would be nice for our wives to get along, seeing as they shall have to spend a great deal of time together.” He sighed again. “Catelyn is so harsh with me, it is delightful. Her words slash like a perfectly honed sword. Makes my blood hot.”

“Something is wrong with you, you know that?” I gave him a disbelieving look.

“Oh, you prefer praise, of course.” Brandon rolled his eyes. “Want Alyssandra to tell you how good looking and strong you are?”

“Shut up.”

“Oh Ned,” Brandon sighed in an obnoxious falsetto, although his shift of accent was rather good, “you’re so handsome! Your hands are so talented!” He leaned in closer and batted his lashes. “Such a good booooy.”

“Would you please stop, I was just beginning to calm down!” I snapped. Brandon’s eyes widened, and he glanced down.

“Have you been hard this whole time?”

“Shut up .” I shoved him away from me.

“Brother!” Brandon laughed. “Oh, truly? From a little kissing and her fingers in your hair? That is all it takes?”

“She licked me.”

“Where? Your bloody stones?” 

“My throat,” I answered after a beat. 

Brandon shook his head, chuckling. “You, you really didn’t ever join Robert in his whoring, did you? Oh, Eddard.” He clapped my shoulder. “You are a rare man. I admire you, you know.”

We stood there for a long while, passing the flask between us. The stars glistened above, the water shimmered below, and in the castle behind us, two young women made their plans.

Chapter Text

It had been five days since I had kissed Ned on the terrace, and we had not had a moment to speak privately since. Although Catelyn was playing Lady Tully outstandingly, the number of guests was sufficient enough that my mother and I were required to entertain as well. I was able to spend time with Lyanna, at least, during which she spoke highly of her brother. (She had grabbed my hand excitedly upon sitting down for breakfast the morning after the feast, and without a word I knew Ned had told her of our kiss.) I suspected she was attempting to secure my hand for him, and was soon proven correct.

She and I had been walking around the gardens after our luncheon when we came upon Ned, who, after the smallest bit of persuasion, joined us. The conversation flowed easily as we continued on our path. We had almost completed our circuit when a flash in the Red Fork caught my eye, prompting me to move closer.

“Oh, the carp are up!” I leaned over the wall, watching their bronze and gold scales glittering in the sun. Ned and Lyanna peered over next to me.

“Oh, they’re beautiful!” Lyanna exclaimed. “I didn’t know fish could be so lovely!”

“They’re huge,” Ned muttered.

“They can grow to four feet long, my lord. We had one last year that weighed nearly one hundred pounds,” I informed him cheerfully. “And we have a catfish, Crust, who’s six feet long. My uncle, Brynden, thinks he weighs nigh on two hundred pounds. He’s been here one and twenty years.”

“How do you know it’s the same fish?” Lyanna asked, Ned silently looking appalled beside her. 

“There is a nearly perfectly circular scar on his head,” I answered. 

“Can we meet him? Is there a spot that he particularly likes?” Lyanna’s eyes shone with excitement. 

“There is, and I would be happy to take you, Lady Lyanna.” I took her elbow, looking up at Ned. “Would you care to chaperone us, my lord? Ensure that we do not fall into the river?”

“I have no desire to meet this watery beast,” Ned groused, “but yes, I would feel better if I were with you.”

“Oh, cheer up, brother.” Lyanna rolled her eyes. “It is not as if you must befriend the fish. I only wish to gaze upon him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You ought to know, he speaks far more to you than to any other lady I’ve seen,” Lyanna murmured as we walked a dozen or so paces ahead of Ned. 

“Does he?” I raised my brows. 

“Oh yes, he usually says only the barest of words. I do believe he is rather fond of you.” She tilted her head. “Are you fond of him?”

“In truth,” I glanced over my shoulder, making sure Ned was still far enough behind us to not hear me, then leaned in close to Lyanna, “I am much hoping that I shall be heading from Harrenhal back to Winterfell with you.”

“Oh!” Lyanna gasped gleefully. “Yes!”

“What are you so excited about?” Ned called. 

“Women’s business, brother!” Lyanna yelled back, then leaned in close to me again. “I cannot tell you how I have wished for a sister that I got along with. ’Tis dreadfully boring to be amongst boys all day long.”

“If all goes well, you shall soon have two, for Cat is quite set on Brandon.”

“Do not tease me!” Lyanna exclaimed, gripping my hand, beaming when I shook my head with a smile. “Oh that is good news!”

“Lyanna! Compose yourself!” Ned chided.

“Would you let me be excited for once? Who must I compose myself for? The flowers?” She rolled her eyes, then grinned conspiratorially at me, leaning in again. “I hope you shall lighten his gloomy nature. You have already made him more willing to indulge in my fancies; without you, he never would have said yes to meeting a giant catfish, no matter how I begged.”

“I’m certain that would not have stopped you,” I teased. 

“No, it would not have. I would have slipped away to see the creature for myself, and Ned would have been ever so cross when I returned. Now, he is only slightly cross at the moment, and he will forget his sourness by the time we return to the castle, because he will be distracted by how pretty you are.”

We soon arrived at Crust’s spot, and sure enough, the behemoth was in residence. Lyanna squealed joyfully upon seeing him, kneeling on the bank of the river to examine him closer, despite Ned’s stern words of disapproval. I laughed and slipped a hand into the crook of his elbow. He frowned at me, although the look in his eyes was soft.

“We have not had a chance to speak, my lady,” he said quietly, Lyanna just far enough away that we could have a private conversation.

“Forgive me, the duties of a lady are numerous when it comes to hosting such a large number of guests,” I replied.

“Your cousin seems to have it well in hand.”

“She is showing off for Brandon and your lord father.”

We stood silently for a minute, the sun filtering through the clouds soft and soothing, the smell of damp earth rising from our feet. Lyanna wandered a bit down the bank, searching for something. Ned watched her carefully, and I was again reminded of a patient guard dog.

Another sign he shall be a good father.

“Did you wish to speak about something, Eddard?” I asked.

“Oh, um, well.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I only wanted to say I have enjoyed your company, and would like to see more of you.”

“You have yet to repay me for the look down my shirt you took the other day, but if you ask nicely, I might lift my skirts a bit.” I grinned at him. 

“I meant I would like to spend more time with you! That is all!” Ned said quickly, flushing. 

“Oh, so you do not wish to see me?” I pouted. “Am I not pretty enough for you, Eddard?”

“No, you are more than pretty enough! I very much wish to see you! All of you!”

“All of me?” I gasped, releasing his elbow and placing my hands on my chest. “What a bold request, my lord!”

“I—shit.” Ned sighed, looking up at the sky for a moment, then back at me. “You know what I mean, my lady. Please, take pity on me, my tongue is not as skilled as yours.”

“It was quite skilled in my mouth the other night. I am sure I could find somewhere else to utilize it.” I grinned as he gaped at me.

“Ned, why is your mouth open?” Lyanna demanded as she ran up the bank to us, a collection of wildflowers in her hand. Without waiting for an answer, she turned to me. “Thank you, truly, for bringing us out here. I was in desperate need of a break from the castle.”

“As was I,” I replied, smiling and linking elbows with her. As we stepped by him, I grabbed Ned’s elbow as well, dragging him along. He shook his head, but a faint smile lurked on his face, and a flicker of joy danced in his eyes until we parted.

There was no doubting it—the wolves had come for one trout, but they would be leaving with two.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Lady Alyssandra.” Two days after we had visited Crust and a sennight after our first kiss, Ned stood in front of the bench in the gardens where I sat, a hefty tome detailing the reign of Viserys I on my lap, looking at me hopefully.

“Lord Eddard.” I smiled up at him, closing the book and setting it aside, enjoying the way the early morning sun shaped his features with a subtle softness. “Would you care to join me?”

“I do not wish to intrude upon your tranquility, my lady.”

“Your quiet warmth could intrude upon my tranquility as much as a mouse could move a mountain, my lord.” I gestured to the space beside me.

“You have quite the tongue, my lady,” Ned remarked as he sat, hands folded in his lap. 

“’Tis one of the reasons my father wishes to be rid of me.” I sighed wistfully, looking off at the hills for a moment.

“Your father does not enjoy your wit?” My attention was quickly brought back to Ned, his brow furrowed as though he could not believe such a thing.

“My father does not enjoy the lack of discretion with which I apply it.”

Ned raised his brow. “And he believes marrying you will help?”

“He is hoping I will find a husband who thinks me amusing. I am hoping to find one who thinks me clever.”

Ned tilted his head, considering me, gray eyes examining me like a rare jewel. My own eyes darted to his mouth, then back up. He smiled, incredibly gently for a wolf. His teeth are sharp behind it though. If only he would bare them, I might melt on the spot.

“I find you quite clever, my lady. I must confess, though, that I do also find your wit amusing.”

“From you, who seems to find so very little amusing, that is quite the compliment.”

I shifted closer and placed my hand on top of his. Ned blinked, looking down at it, then slowly turned his face back towards mine. The hope had grown, sincerity and admiration plain in his storm cloud eyes.

“My lady, if it pleases you, I intend to speak to your lord father this morning, regarding your hand.”

“It pleases me greatly, Eddard.”

Ned carefully cupped my cheek, then bent and softly kissed me. I wanted more, wanted all of him, wanted him to take me then and there in the damp grass. But I let him pull away. I would have him, every inch. Just not here. Not yet. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alyssandra.” Father beckoned me over with a finger. I followed him into the library, stopping a few feet inside as he closed the door. 

“Ned Stark came to speak to me this morning,” Father said, watching my reaction.

“And? Did you come to an agreement?” I asked, hands clasped in front of me, face calm.

“I am happy to give the young man what he wishes. Frankly, I would be happy to give him more, but that is between him and his father. I only wish to know if you are pleased with him.”

“Very much so, Father. He is loyal, fair, and honest, and he finds me clever and amusing. And Meleys likes him.” I smiled. 

“Good. I’m glad you’ve settled.” Father smiled, taking my hands in his. “He’s a good man for you, Alyss. Reasonable enough to keep you in line, kind enough to keep you happy. You will do well in the North.” He bent and kissed my cheek, then, with a small nod, released my hands and let me go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had taken my embroidery outside to one of the small tables in the garden, deciding to drink in as much of the Riverlands as I could before I left. The Tumblestone gurgled soothingly below me, and the repetitive motion of the needle had set my mind to wandering aimlessly when the clearing of a throat broke my peace.

“Lady Alyssandra.” Ned’s father appeared before me, dipping his head with a solemn expression.

“Your Grace.” I stood and curtsied. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I understand my son spoke to your father this morning,” he replied, sitting across from me and gesturing for me to resume my seat. I nodded, folding my hands in my lap to prevent myself from nervously fiddling with my gown. This was not a man one showed any weakness to, unless you desired to be torn apart. Lord Stark tilted his head, considering me for a second, then sighed.

“I won’t beat around the bush, girl. I came here seeking a stronger alliance with the Riverlands, specifically between your cousin and my eldest son. If they had not been amenable to the match, you would certainly have been a good second choice, for either of my sons. But I have secured Catelyn’s hand for Brandon. So tell me, Alyssandra, what do you provide me that she does not?” Lord Stark leaned back, his face impassive.

“You wish for influence, Your Grace,” I began, choosing my words carefully. “You could betroth Eddard to Ashara Dayne, to secure Dorne, but I hear she is rather set on another. My brother was fostered in Dorne; I am good friends with Prince Oberyn. A prince is better than a lady, yes?”

“Friendship does not guarantee support, certainly not the kind that will sway me,” Lord Stark responded coolly.

“No, Your Grace, it does not.” I dipped my head in agreement. “Your other obvious choice for Eddard is Cersei Lannister, but I seem to recall you and the Warden of the West not being particularly friendly.” Lord Stark tilted his head in concession. “And in that vein, I can offer you something very valuable indeed.” I leaned forward, placing my arms on the table. “My grandmother is from Braavos, and my cousins still reside there. If you wish to go toe-to-toe with the Targaryens, with their Lannister gold, then a direct link to the Iron Bank is no small gift.”

“I have made no mention of the Targaryens.” Lord Stark narrowed his eyes, curiosity evident in his face.

“You have not, Your Grace, but I am more clever than I let on and far more ambitious than my father would ever admit. More ambitious than Catelyn. I have powerful connections, ones I shall make very good use of with the right husband. I believe in your son.” I arched my brow. “Do you?”

“He is a quiet one, but he is dedicated and just. With an ambitious wife to gently guide him, he could do quite well.” Lord Stark held my gaze a moment more, then nodded. “Very well. You and Eddard shall be wed here, at Riverrun, following the tournament, and your cousin shall wed Brandon at Winterfell under the Buck Moon.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” I smiled at him. “I vow to uphold the Stark name with honor, and to be a loyal, loving wife to your son.”

Lord Stark nodded again, then stood and briskly walked away. I sat a moment longer before gathering my embroidery and walking quickly back to the Keep. I hurried up the steps, hoping she was in her chambers. A sharp knock on the door, then her voice was telling me to enter.

“Catelyn! He approved!”

She jumped up and ran across the room, taking my hands. For a second, we were frozen, staring at one another. Then I laughed and threw my arms around her, and she squeezed me so tight I could barely breathe.

“We shall be sisters!” I exclaimed as she released me. “We need not ever be more than a few days' ride apart! Our children shall grow up together!”

“Oh, I am so glad you shall be coming with me!” Catelyn beamed, tugging me over to the settee against the wall. “I was so nervous to be going alone. Lyanna is lovely, to be sure, but to have my dear cousin along will make it so much easier.”

We sat and talked of our futures for over an hour, only stopping when a handmaid entered and informed us that it was time to prepare for supper, as our fathers had ordered that we look the absolute pictures of nobility and thus would require more preparation than usual. I rolled my eyes at the demand, but left to be primped and preened by Bellena and Mother, their excitement filling my chambers with warmth.

Clad in a white gown with floral embroidery and the silver scale mail epaulets Uncle Brynden had given me for my last nameday, I admired myself in the mirror. A circlet of silver fish rested just above the braids Mother had deftly done. The woman who gazed back at me was not a stranger, but she was not yet familiar. I enjoyed my reflection for a minute, then, with a nod to myself, went to the door. I opened it to find Ned, his hand raised to knock.

“Eddard.”

“Alyssandra.”

He looked particularly handsome, in his light blue doublet, the black leather straps of his cloak tight across his firm chest. His hair had also been braided back, although in much less intricate a fashion than mine. For a moment, we simply gazed at one another, a budding warmth between us. Then he bent, taking my hand and pressing his lips to it. I desperately fought the urge to swoon.

“Shall we, my lady?” Ned released my hand and offered me his elbow, smiling when I took it. “Well done, convincing my father,” he said as we began to walk down the corridor.

“I did not do much,” I replied, shrugging.

“Do not be modest. He had a number of choice words for me when I told him I had asked your father for your hand without his approval. But after his conversation with you, he was very pleased.” Ned smiled proudly. “My lovely lady, able to charm even the most stubborn and commanding wolf.”

“Thank you, Eddard.” I blushed, the swirling of my gut growing more intense by the second. We walked silently for a moment, Ned observing me, then he shifted closer and bent down.

“My lady,” he breathed in my ear, “I must tell you, you look exquisite this evening.”

“Eddard, please.” I clenched my fist. “Do not tease me.”

“I am not teasing. I speak sincerely.” Ned frowned slightly, straightening his neck. “You are quite flushed, my lady. Are you well? Do you require one of your maids? Or perhaps the maester?”

“I require you further away from me,” I replied, forcing myself to smile as we passed one of my many Blackwood cousins.

“Forgive me, my lady. I did not mean to cause offense.” Ned shifted away from me, creating a few inches of space between us. 

“You have not caused offense, my lord.” I bit my lip, deciding how open to be, then deciding honesty was best. “Rather the opposite, and far more troublesome, for me at least.”

“I am afraid I do not understand, my lady.”

“You have caused excitement.” I glanced up to see his brow furrowed in confusion and sighed again. “I am flushed because I am warm, Eddard. Because you have heated my blood.” I raised a hand to silence his reply. “I understand that you hold honor very highly. I would not ask you to compromise that.” I dropped my hand again, looking away from him. “I only hope your view of me has not been sullied.”

“Sullied?”

“By my wantonness." I swallowed. “I had hoped to contain it better, to be a better lady, but you look so handsome this evening and you seemed so proud that I had charmed your father, and well…” I allowed myself a quick glance at him, and my heart dropped—he was scowling now. “I understand, Eddard. I shan’t make a fuss. They have yet to announce anything, so I shall simply tell my father and you tell yours. I shall even take the blame.”

“Blame for what? My lady,” Ned stopped, forcing me to as well, “I am quite at a loss with regards to your meaning. What am I meant to be telling my father?”

“That you no longer wish to wed me.”

“Why would I no longer wish to wed you?”

“Because I do not possess a chaste mind. I, I desire. Deeply.”

“So?” Ned tilted his head, sliding his hand down my arm to link his fingers with mine. “Do you think I do not have desires?”

“You are a man. ’Tis allowed.”

“You possess a womb and thus are not allowed to feel?”

“I am not supposed to acknowledge such feelings. And besides, you are a man of virtue.”

“Oh, so I must simply crush any amorous thoughts?” He slowly reached up and ran a finger along my hairline. “I have behaved honorably and thus must be free of all dishonorable musings?” A shiver caressed my spine as he leaned closer, bending down once more to whisper in my ear, “It would be a breach of honor to bed you before you are my wife. But I also think it a breach of honor to leave you in such agony as you appear to be in, when I have the capacity to alleviate it.”

“Eddard, I cannot ask you to betray yourself like this,” I protested faintly.

“Was it not clear that night on the terrace?” he quietly asked. “You are all my desires. Nothing is so important to me as your happiness.” 

“I would ask more of you than I took that night,” I responded, clinging to propriety.

“We are more than we were that night.” He gently kissed my jaw, then tipped his head back to gaze tenderly down at me. “Your pain is mine. Do not torment us both, dearest.”

“Please, Eddard,” I breathed, gripping his doublet with my free hand. “I am indeed in agony.” I leaned up to kiss him, softly at first, then more insistently, pulling him into the empty council room. Ned’s hands moved to my waist, keeping me pressed against him as he kicked the door closed behind us. He pushed me backwards until I hit the table, then easily lifted me onto it, standing between my knees.

“What does my betrothed ask of me?” Ned murmured, a whisper away from my lips.

I hitched my skirts up and grabbed his hand, guiding it between my legs. He leaned back to look down at me, raising his brow. I pouted up at him, flattening my palm against his chest.

“Please, Eddard.” I released his wrist to cup his face. “Can’t you feel how much I need you?”

“I can.” Ned slowly traced his fingers over my cunt, making me shudder. “Tell me what you like, dearest lady. I wish to please you.”

“Ned, I—” I stopped at the look in his eyes. “Ned, do you truly wish for me to tell you what to do?”

“’Tis the only thing I wish.” He turned his head to lightly kiss my palm, then turned back to smile down at me. “Command me, dear one. I am at your pleasure.”

“One finger inside. Good.” I took a slow breath, steadying myself. “Now curl it, yes, ah, like that.” I let my head fall forward against his chest, my hand slipping from his cheek to his shoulder. Gods, even inexperienced, his hand was so much better than my own.

“Alright, now just above that finger, press your thumb. Oh.” I bit my lip. “Mmm, now a second finger inside. Shit, good, yes. Hold them like that while you make a circle with your thumb. Ah, yes, Ned, gods.” 

I twitched around his fingers, gasping, as he did exactly as I’d instructed. My release, so much sweeter than any I had felt before, did not take long to arrive, leaving me moaning softly and gripping his doublet. Ned continued until I reached down and grabbed his wrist again. 

“That’s enough, you may stop.”

“Oh but I so enjoyed your little sounds, my lady.” Ned grinned at me.

I shoved him away, frowning. “Do not be mean, Eddard.”

“I’m not being mean, dearest,” Ned chuckled as I hopped off the table, smoothing out my skirts. “I did enjoy them.” He grabbed my waist again, pulling my stomach flush with his hips. “Can’t you feel how much I enjoyed them?”

I could. I ached for the firm bulge pressing against me. I wanted him to rip off all my clothes, to bite at my neck, to hold me down, to make me forget everything but him. He was too good a man for such things before wedding me, however. I would have to wait, a thought which made me want to scream.

“Would you like me to help you, my lord?” I softly asked instead, slipping my hand between us to cup his cock.

“You shall make a mess, my lady,” Ned replied.

“You would prefer that I leave you like this?” I wrapped my arm around his neck, arching up against him, brushing my fingers under his doublet. I smirked at the way his breath caught and his eyes flicked down to my breasts, now pressed to his chest. I slid my fingers into his hair and pulled him down, lightly kissing just below his ear. 

“You do not wish for me to relieve you, my lord?” I breathed.

“Alyssandra,” Ned sighed.

“Aly. My favorite people call me Aly.” I tugged at the laces of his breeches, loosening them just enough for my hand to slip in.

“Aly, there shall be a mess.” Ned rocked his hips into my hand, despite his protests.

“So? Do you think Brandon allows the possibility of mess to get in the way of his pleasure?”

“Do not speak of my brother when your hand is on my cock,” Ned grumbled.

“Alright,” I chuckled. 

Ned moved a hand to the back of my head, pulling me into a kiss. He pushed his tongue into my mouth, quietly groaning against me when I brushed my thumb over the head of his cock. I added a slight twist to my stroking, then repeated the movement of my thumb, and he pushed me backwards, pinning me to the wall. He broke our kiss, gasping.

“Keep going,” Ned instructed, a dark look in his eyes. “Exactly like that.”

I held his gaze as I continued as he asked, watching him come undone. With a quiet groan of my name, he spilled in my hand. As he’d predicted, there was a mess, but once he was done twitching, I simply pulled my handkerchief from my pocket and wiped my hand with it.

“Aly!” Ned jerked away from me when I went to wipe him off as well.

“What? You wish to remain a mess?”

“You can’t just grab a man with your little lacy square!”

“I’m not grabbing, I am cleaning. And you’re not ‘a man,’ you’re Eddard. Now let me make you presentable again.” He sighed, but allowed me to clean him up. I carefully folded the handkerchief and replaced it in my pocket, trying not to think about somehow cleaning it, as Ned adjusted his breeches. Then, my hand at his elbow once more, we made our way to the Great Hall.

Chapter Text

“What took you so long?” Brandon demanded, standing with Catelyn outside the doors to the Great Hall under the watchful eyes of Ser Kermit Bracken. “Surely you did not get lost after I left you; their chambers are in the same corridor.”

“My lady required a hand,” Ned said simply.

“With what?” Brandon frowned, looking between us. I glanced at Catelyn; she tilted her head the tiniest bit. I dipped mine slightly, and her brow arched.

“An itch I could not scratch myself,” I answered, flicking my eyes to Brandon with a faint smirk. “Now, shall we give our fathers what they want?”

Without waiting for an answer, I nodded to Ser Kermit. He opened the door and I pulled Ned through, Catelyn and Brandon just behind us. As soon as his eyes landed on us, at the high table, Uncle Hoster stood, raising his cup, and the rest of the hall followed suit. I felt Ned stiffen beside me, and placed my free hand on his arm below the first, subtly pulling him more firmly against me.

“A sennight ago we celebrated a continuation of the friendship between House Tully and House Stark,” Uncle Hoster said, smiling. “Tonight, we celebrate a deeper connection. My daughter and niece have accepted offers of marriage from the young Stark lords!” Hoster gestured towards us with his cup; I rubbed my thumb against Ned’s arm, smiling at the cheering faces as we made our way up to stand beside my uncle. Catelyn and Brandon stood to Ned’s right, beside Lord Stark, who now looked about to speak.

“I am very pleased to have found such fine matches for my sons,” Lord Stark said, then, with a glance down the table, added, “although I think my daughter is even more pleased to be gaining such fine sisters,” prompting chuckles around the hall. He looked back out over the gathered faces. “My eldest, Brandon, and Lord Tully’s daughter, Catelyn, shall be wed in Winterfell under the Buck Moon, but before then, I look forward to once again joining you all here in a moon’s turn for the wedding of my second son, Eddard, and Lord Tully’s niece, Alyssandra. To the North and the Riverlands, and the bonds that unite us!”

The cheer was echoed and cups knocked back. As we sat, I noticed that not everyone seemed pleased with the announcement. Their faces did not surprise me—knights and lords who had previously made bids for our hands and been turned down, annoyed to see others getting what they desired. But it was Petyr’s that my gaze could not help but return to. Bloodlust, plain and unwavering, had taken over him. I leaned forward, hoping to catch Catelyn’s eye around Ned and Brandon, but she was speaking to Rickard. With a huff, I sat back again. Ned glanced at me, brow shifting slightly in a silent question.

“Petyr is displeased,” I murmured, tilting my head towards where he sat. Ned’s eyes followed, narrowing as they landed on him. He watched him for a breath, then looked back at me.

“Are you concerned?” Ned asked quietly.

“Not yet. But he will do something before we leave for Harrenhal, I am sure of it.”

“About Catelyn?”

I nodded, reaching for my cup. Ned watched me take a long drink, then, looking forward again, shifted his leg so it pressed against mine under the table. My chest warmed at the reassuring gesture, and I sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Gods for sending me such a good man before my father lost his patience and wed me to one of the heavy-handed fools at the tables below us. I focused on my food, trying to ignore the pit in my stomach that the murderous glare of my uncle’s ward brought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sure enough, as Riverrun’s guests filed away to their chambers, Petyr made his move. He waited patiently as various lords and ladies congratulated us, speaking quietly with Lucas and Benjen until he saw an opening. He approached with his usual annoying outsized ego, smiling slimily at me.

“An excellent choice, my lord,” Petyr said to Ned. “Lady Alyssandra is quite the beauty, and her character is well-suited to a Northerner.” Ned’s lip twitched at the half-veiled insult, but I quickly shifted my hand from my lap to his thigh, and, instead of snarling, he simply dipped his head towards Petyr. I tapped my fingers twice against him. Good boy. Stay.

“However,” Petyr turned to Brandon, “I take issue with your choice. And thus I challenge you for Lady Catelyn’s hand.”

Brandon slowly set down his cup, placing his arms on the table and leaning towards Petyr. Catelyn nervously looked between them, Lord Stark staring at Petyr incredulously beside her. Further down the table, Lysa gasped quietly, grabbing Bellena’s hand and turning to whisper to her. Uncle Hoster cleared his throat, stepping away from his conversation with Lord Vypren.

“Now, now, let us not take anything too far,” he said, raising his hands placatingly.

“You want what’s mine, boy?” Brandon asked quietly, ignoring Hoster.

“She is not yet your wife,” Petyr replied. “I have every right to demand you fight for the honor of making her such.”

“Very well.” Brandon stood, the physical difference between them astoundingly clear. “An hour, then our swords meet.” He stalked away, Catelyn hurrying after him. I glanced at Ned, moving my hand from his thigh to his arm. He looked down at me, his expression surprisingly calm.

“Should we not go with your brother and my cousin, my lord?”

“Whatever for?” Ned tilted his head. “Brandon does not require my assistance, my lady, I assure you.”

“Eddard.” I turned to fully face him, placing my other hand over his. “I must be with her. I would rather you be there as well.” Ned held my worried gaze for a moment, then nodded. He stood, offering me his hand, and once again tucked me in at his elbow. We made to leave, but Lord Stark stepped in front of us, placing a hand on Ned’s shoulder.

“Try to counsel restraint, if you can,” he said quietly. “The lad is a fool to pick such a fight, and no one would be surprised if it was his last, but I doubt it would please Lady Tully to see him slain.”

“Yes, Father.”

We left the Great Hall without further conversation. I was so lost in my annoyance and concern that I missed the shadow sneaking along behind us. Ned, however, under no such cloudiness of mind, did not, and about halfway to the chambers Brandon was occupying, he leaned down, mouth just above my ear.

“Your cousin is following us.”

“Lysa?”

“No, the boy.”

I leaned back to frown at him, confused. Ned shrugged and straightened again. I thought for another moment, trying to determine why Edmure might be tailing us, then abruptly stopped walking, jerking Ned to a halt beside me.

“Edmure. Come out.” I heard a sigh, then soft footsteps as he came around to stand in front of us, looking sheepish at having been caught. “Why are you following us?” Edmure scuffed his toe across the floor, not looking at me. “Edmure. Were you hoping to be of assistance in the duel?”

“I, well, yes,” he answered, turning his face up towards mine. “Lord Brandon shall need a squire.”

“Alright,” I sighed, holding out my hand. “Come along.” Edmure took the offered hand and fell into step beside me. We walked silently down the long corridor, the torches flickering brightly.

Soon enough it shall be our son at my side. A little red-haired boy, with Ned’s fierce eyes and strong convictions.

My musings were cut off by our arrival at Brandon’s chambers. Ned knocked once, and the door was quickly opened by Catelyn, looking distressed. She stepped aside, motioning us in, her brow furrowing at the sight of Edmure. I released his hand and he immediately ran across the room to Brandon, making his case. Brandon, in the middle of changing his boots, paused, listening, then nodded once. I glanced around, realizing there was no one else in the room.

“Cat, you came in here alone?” I hissed.

“Is that really the most pressing issue at the moment?” she shot back, wrapping her arms around herself.

“No,” I sighed, dropping Ned’s arm, “I suppose not.” I sat in one of the chairs by the window. After a breath, Catelyn took the other, watching Edmure help Brandon while he and Ned spoke in hushed tones. They seemed to be at odds, although attempting to contain themselves for our sakes.

“He threatens what is mine, Ned!” Brandon finally snapped. “I shall defend her however I must!”

“I understand that. I am only asking you to have some mercy,” Ned replied.

“He means to kill him?” Catelyn looked at me, her worry increased.

I shrugged. “How should I know? You are the one betrothed to him.”

“My lord,” Catelyn said louder, drawing both men’s attention, “please don’t kill him. Please, he is my friend.”

“You know not what falls from his lips when your back is turned. No friend should speak about you the way he has,” Brandon spat.

“Please.” She stood, crossing the room to him and cupping his cheek. “Please, Brandon. He’s just a boy.”

“Fine.” The anger in his eyes softened somewhat. “I shall give him the chance to yield. But after Ned and Alyssandra’s wedding, you shall come directly to Winterfell with us. I do not want you here without me.”

“Of course.” Catelyn nodded. “I am sure my father will agree.”

The remainder of the hour passed quickly. We gathered in the courtyard on the east side of the Keep, torches casting long shadows about the space. Petyr glared as Catelyn quietly pulled the intricate trout pin from her hair and fastened it to Brandon’s breastplate.

“Do not kill him,” she whispered, eyes pleading.

“I will give him the opportunity to yield,” Brandon replied, all of us knowing that that was not the same as promising not to kill him. Catelyn nodded and stepped back, grabbing my hand. On my other side, Ned shifted closer, our shoulders brushing.

Brandon made it plain from the start that he was holding back. He deflected blows with almost boredom, easily stepping around Petyr. It wasn’t only a matter of size or the eight years difference between them; Brandon didn’t think when it came to his sword. He simply moved. He knew where he wanted to be and went there, without a pause or wrinkle.

“Yield,” Brandon said after a few minutes, having gotten Petyr in a somewhat compromising position. But the fool shook his head, and ducked down, freeing himself from Brandon once more. They went on for another fifteen minutes or so, Brandon twice again offering Petyr a chance to yield. When Petyr refused the fourth time, Brandon sighed heavily, and, in a blatant show of his full prowess, flicked Petyr’s sword arm away and cut him up the middle in one smooth motion. Catelyn gasped, gripping my hand, as Petyr fell, blood gushing.

“This is over,” Brandon said, standing over him. “Lady Tully shall become Lady of Winterfell, and you shall return to the Fingers.”

He sheathed his sword and turned towards us as Maester Vyman hurried over to Petyr. Without a word, Catelyn took Brandon’s arm and walked away with him, Edmure trotting after them. Ned offered me his arm, then quietly walked me back to my chambers. When we reached the door, I turned to him, taking his hands in mine.

“Goodnight, Eddard.” I leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Sleep well.”

“And you, my sweet lady.” He bent and kissed my forehead. “I shall see you in the morning.”

He waited until I opened the door to move away, dipping his head respectfully. I leaned against the doorway, watching him walk off towards his own chambers once more. Once he was out of sight, with a sigh, I closed the door again and went about preparing for bed. My hair was quickly taken down and rebraided, jewelry and epaulets and shoes and hose all easily removed. The gown was a bit of a struggle, but after a few minutes I managed to loosen the lacings enough to slip it down my body. Clad in only my chemise, I sat by the fireplace, opening my book. I did not know how much time had passed when the silence was broken by a soft knock at my door. Curious, I stood, setting the book aside, and crossed the room, opening the door to reveal Catelyn, dressing gown loosely wrapped around her and looking somewhat askew.

“Aly, oh, I have done something.” Catelyn moved by me into the room and I pushed the door closed again. “You cannot tell anyone.”

“What, Cat?” She grabbed my hands as I searched her face. “What has happened?”

“I have lost my maidenhood, Aly.” My eyes widened. “I went to speak to Brandon, and, well.”

“Cat! No!” I pulled her towards my bed, grinning. “Alright, tell me.”

“I left him with Edmure, and went to prepare for bed, but I just kept thinking of how powerful he looked, swinging his sword, and how glad I was that he had been merciful, and had given Petyr the chance to yield. And I just, oh, I couldn’t stop thinking and I kept getting hotter and hotter until I thought I might burst into flames. So I went to his chambers, and he let me in, and I don’t know what came over me, but…” She paused, looking down and biting her lip.

“What, Cat? What did you do?” I asked eagerly.

“I just stripped.” She looked back up at me. “I dropped my dressing gown, and slid my nightgown off my shoulders and, and, jumped on him.” I gasped and she wrinkled her nose in amused annoyance. “I wanted him, and oh did he give. He was more gentle than you would think, kissed every inch of me.” She leaned closer, grinning. “He kissed between my legs, Aly, and by the Seven, I thought I might die, it felt so good. He kept his hands on my hips, holding me down and just…worshipping.”

“And what of him taking your maidenhead?” I asked. “How did that feel?”

“It hurt, but not terribly, and it soon turned pleasurable. He was slow at first, letting me get comfortable, then rougher, but in a good way.” Catelyn sighed, looking off for a moment, then focusing back on me. “I hope Ned is as enjoyable, I would not want to be the only happy one.”

“He takes direction well,” I replied, smiling. Catelyn raised her brows eagerly, and I told her of our rendezvous in the council room. That night, after much conversation, we fell asleep side by side, just as we had as children. The last thought I had before drifting off was that the next time I would share this bed would be my wedding night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The journey to Harrenhal began early the next day. Quite the parade we made, Riverlanders and Northerners all together, numerous banners flapping in the wind. Meleys happily walked alongside Moose (as I had been informed Ned’s garron was called), seeming to like him just as much as she did his owner. Lyanna rode on my other side, Lysa, Bellena, and Benjen behind us, Lucas, Catelyn, and Brandon in front. As Uncle Hoster had stayed behind, beyond Catelyn and Brandon, Lord Stark was flanked by Uncle Brynden and Father. I occasionally caught bits of their conversion, but none of what floated back to me was of any interest.

“So,” Lyanna broke the quiet that had fallen over us, turning in the saddle to look behind her, “now that your sisters are set to become my sisters, do the two of you have any prospects? Are we to be invited to another wedding at Riverrun soon?”

“Uncle Hoster has been speaking with Lord Lannister,” Bellena replied, flicking her eyes to Lysa with a smirk. “His son visited a few moons ago.”

“Oooooo.” Lyanna grinned. “That would be something! My father hates Lord Lannister, but I have not met his son.”

“He is quite charming,” Lysa told her. Lyanna quickly negotiated a change of place with Benjen, and the three began swapping gossip about various young lords.

“Father threatened to wed Brandon to Lord Lannister’s daughter,” Ned said quietly. “If he could not secure Catelyn’s hand, Father said he’d suffer a lioness instead.”

“Let us all be glad he has well-secured her, then,” I replied. I had met Cersei Lannister, and although I had no personal grievance against her, I could not imagine being her sister. Ned nodded, and we fell silent once more. Soon, Benjen and Lucas moved to ride beside each other, quickly becoming engaged in a conversion on the merits of various weapons. In front of them, Catelyn and Brandon were also conversing, although I could not hear the details. The chatter of my family (some not yet by law, but certainly by love) around me filled me with joy, and although I enjoyed tournaments, I found myself longing for the return to Riverrun and the opportunity to begin working on expanding that family with Ned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ned!”

I had been enjoying Alyssandra’s soft conversation as we meandered about the tournament grounds when I was suddenly enveloped in a forceful embrace. I could hear her giggling beside me as Robert squeezed the air from my lungs and nearly lifted me off my feet. After longer than was strictly polite, he released me, clapping me on the shoulder.

“I have been looking for you! Heard you came down with the River lords.” He raised a brow, and I nodded, tipping my head towards Alyssandra, who stepped forward and slipped her hand back into my elbow.

“Robert, this is Alyssandra Tully. Daughter of Lord Tully’s brother, Ser Willem.”

“Ohhhh.” Robert grinned, looking between us. “Finally found yourself a girl, have you?”

“A wife, actually,” Alyssandra corrected, smiling politely. “We are to be wed immediately following the tournament, at Riverrun. I hope you are able to come.”

“I would not miss it for anything. And if you ever get bored of him, let me know.” Robert winked and I fought the urge to smack him on the back of the head. You are betrothed to my sister, you idiot. 

“Thank you for the offer, my lord, but Eddard has already proven himself very dedicated when it comes to my enjoyment. I highly doubt I shall find myself bored.” She looked Robert over. “Although I know how it is with lads fostered together. Perhaps before you are our brother, we might both entertain you.”

I blushed at her suggestion, but Robert laughed, shaking his head. “Found yourself quite the bold one, Ned! I like her. Now,” he straightened up, looking like the Lord Paramount he was, “where is your dear sister? I wish to speak with her.”

“She is with my father.” I pointed back towards our tents. Robert nodded, clapped me on the shoulder again, and set off. Alyssandra watched him walk away for a moment, then turned to me, an intrigued look on her face.

“What?” I asked, beginning to walk again.

“I would not have expected your dearest friend to be so…much,” she answered. I shrugged, and she let out an amused huff. “I do not mean it as an insult, darling. I could see myself getting along well with him.” She continued speaking, but none of it sunk in, for my entire mind was focused on that one word. Darling. She called me darling. Does she know what she’s done? I would do anything for her to call me that again.

We had not gone far before Alyssandra was also greeted with a firm embrace, although this one was far less surprising. Her face had lit up and she had dropped my arm to run a few steps and leap at the swarthy man before us, who caught her easily. I tried not to let my jealousy show as I walked up to them. Alyssandra released the man and immediately looked up at me, beaming, as she attached herself to my arm once more. ( Where she belongs. Mine .)

“Eddard, this is Oberyn Martell, Princess Elia’s brother and my dear friend. Oberyn, this is Eddard Stark, Lord Stark’s second son and my betrothed.”

“Ah, yes, the Quiet Wolf, right?” Prince Oberyn appraised me. “He’s well-built, I will give you that. Not as wild-seeming as his brother, but,” he grinned at Alyssandra, “you have always been partial to the hidden dangers, have you not? Besides, you are wild enough for ten men.”

“Stop!” Alyssandra flushed, and I wondered just what all Prince Oberyn knew about her. “Do not put ideas in his head!”

“Ideas? Me?” Prince Oberyn tutted. “I would never. I am simply stating what we all know to be true. You would only have been happy in Dorne or the North. No one else would be able to please you.” Alyssandra laughed again, and invited him to join us on our walk. As much as I had been enjoying time alone with her, she seemed so happy to speak with her friend that I could not find any reason to object to his presence, and so Prince Oberyn walked along on her other side. Her hand, however, remained decidedly on my arm, and she did not call him any terms of endearment besides ‘friend.’ She called me ‘darling’ twice more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ned kept me more firmly at his side after meeting Oberyn, and I could not help but be flattered (and aroused) by the flare of possessiveness. We walked with Oberyn until we neared the royal tents, at which point he left us to see his sister. As soon as he turned away, Ned began pulling me towards the Godswood that bordered the tournament grounds. I followed willingly, curiosity piqued. Slipping away from the tents and into the woods properly, Ned quickly tugged me behind a massive oak. He spun around, backing me against the tree, hands on either side of my head, caging me in.

“Going to take me where our Gods are watching?” I asked, grinning.

“Mmm,” Ned quietly growled. “I told you, I shall not bed you before we are wed.”

“I do not see a bed here; therefore, it would not be a bedding.”

“Fine.” Ned leaned in closer. “I shall not take the satisfaction of your sex around mine until we are wed,” he breathed in my ear, moving his hands to my waist. I gasped as he kissed just below my ear, gripping his doublet. He kissed down my neck, grabbing at my skirts. I expected to feel his hand between my legs, but instead he pulled away and knelt, hooking an arm around my knee and pulling it up onto his shoulder, his other hand wrapping around my other calf.

“Ned.” I tried not to moan as he kissed along the inside of my thigh, his head disappearing under my skirts. “Ned, please, please, darling.”

“Hm,” Ned grunted against my skin, the sound somewhat muffled. “Call me that again.”

“Darling, darling, oh!” Ned’s mouth was on my cunt and I could barely think. I slapped a hand over my mouth as his tongue dragged over me, lighting up every single nerve in my body. And then that damn tongue flicked over the spot I had told him to press his thumb against two nights previously, and my hips jerked, and he had the audacity to chuckle. I was about to admonish him when his mouth returned to that spot, but this time he closed it and sucked and my remaining mental capacities fled. I whimpered behind my palm, my other hand clutching at my skirts. Ned dug his fingers into my thigh, holding me still as he took his fill of me, tongue lapping greedily. My leg not held in his bruising grip threatened to give out, trembling as my release neared, the bark of the oak rubbing roughly against my back.

“Ned, Ned, please,” I gasped, digging my heel into his back. “I, I, shit.” I covered my mouth again, stifling my moan, hips twitching as he sucked on those nerves again, pulling me over the edge. Ned reappeared from under my skirts after a moment and gently set my leg down, then stood and roughly kissed me, hands on my waist. Limp from the pleasure I had just experienced, I loosely wrapped my arms around his neck, forcing him to hold me up. A second later it occurred to me that I could taste myself on him. I liked that, liked that he had me on him so intimately.

“What was that?” I breathlessly asked when Ned finally leaned back.

“You’re mine,” he said with a shrug.

“You are…” I searched for the words, lost in the soft look he was giving me. “You are simply ridiculous. I cannot think of another man who would prove a woman his by kneeling for her. Putting her on her knees, perhaps.”

“I am not like other men.” 

“No, you are not.”

I smiled and leaned up to gently kiss him again. Ned held me close for a moment after our lips parted, before straightening and stepping back, waiting quietly as I adjusted my gown and hair. Presentable, I happily took his arm once more, and we slipped back through the trees and into the tents without so much as a second glance.

Chapter Text

Ned and I slowly walked back towards the other end of the grounds, occasionally greeting another young lord or lady one of us knew. We approached our section to see Uncle Brynden waiting for us, arms crossed and brow arched.

“Well met, uncle.” I smiled at him.

“Hmpf,” he grunted, looking us over, then narrowing his eyes briefly at Ned before focusing on me. “Your animal is causing problems. Bit one of the lads, drawing blood, and kicked another.”

“Which lads?” I asked.

“She bit Grover, and the one she kicked came with the Starks.” He flicked his eyes to Ned. “Tall, black hair, annoying smirk.”

“Dorren.” Ned nodded. “She ought to have kicked him twice.”

“You dislike the lad?”

“Aye.”

“Well,” Brynden continued when Ned didn’t elaborate, looking at me again, “she needs to be dealt with.”

“Fine,” I sighed. “But if they would just handle her as I have told them to, these things would not happen!” I dropped Ned’s arm, gathering my skirts and marching towards the horses. 

“Aly, you know she’s violent,” Brynden said as he followed me. “The lads are all terrified of her. And by extension, you.”

“Good,” Ned muttered, also following. 

“Well the issue is clear!” I stated as soon as the horses came into view. “Eddard,” I whipped around to look at him, “can you see why Meleys is upset?” He nodded, already moving to untie her. 

“My lord, I wouldn’t—” Roger, Brynden’s squire, began to warn Ned, but he cut him off with a cold look.

“Grab that one, hm?” Ned said to him, jerking his head towards Minnow, Lysa’s gelding, standing between Meleys and Moose. Roger untied him and moved him away from the others, watching as Ned also untied Moose. He shifted Meleys to the end of the hitching post, across from Eel, Brynden’s nearly permanently disgruntled mare, then tied Moose next to her.

“Alright, put the little fellow next to mine,” Ned instructed Roger. Minnow, clearly relieved to no longer be beside Meleys, happily began eating in his new spot. Roger stared at the horses for a moment, then at Ned.

“Tell the other lads to keep her on the end, with Moose next to her,” Ned told him. Roger nodded, and Ned turned and walked back to me and Brynden. “There. She’ll be fine now.”

“You’re good with horses,” Brynden observed.

“Not particularly,” Ned answered with a shrug. “Meleys takes after her owner. If my lady were upset by another man, I would put myself between them.”

“You’re more clever than you get credit for,” Brynden told him, receiving another shrug in response. “Alright, well, you two need to prepare for the opening feast. I graciously will not tell your fathers that you were off alone.”

“Oberyn was with us!” I retorted, frowning.

“I saw Prince Oberyn not ten minutes ago, with Ashara and Arthur Dayne.” Brynden tipped his head and raised his brow. “Do not lie to me, little fox. I know you scampered off into the woods with your big bad wolf. You are not my daughter, so I shall not worry unless you tell me to. Besides, you two shall be wed in less than a moon. No one shall be the wiser if you say the babe is early.”

“Uncle!” I grabbed his arm and began pulling him away, giving Ned an apologetic look over my shoulder. He dipped his head, amusement in his eyes. I huffed, yanking Brynden around a corner. He was laughing, shaking his head and allowing me to tug him along.

“Oh come now, niece, you are completely smitten with him!”

“Shhh!” I glared, releasing his arm. “Do not let him know that!”

“By the Seven, I do not understand women.” Brynden shook his head again, gesturing towards the tent I was sharing with my sister and cousins. “Go, go, tell them of your escapades while you all braid each other’s hair.”

I stuck out my tongue at his back as he walked towards his own tent, then, with a sigh, crossed to mine. Lysa, Bellena, and Catelyn were already inside, in various states of dress, chatting away. They all turned to me as I entered, pausing their conversation.

“Did Uncle Brynden speak to you?” Catelyn asked, a small smirk on her face. “Give you his lecture?”

“Aye, he did,” I grumbled. “Although I am not the niece he ought to be concerned about; it shall not be my babe conceived outside of wedlock.” Lysa inhaled sharply, just loud enough for me to notice, but she quickly masked her reaction as my eyes darted from Catelyn to her. Catelyn, still smiling, huffed, picking up another hairpin.

“I told you, he did not spill inside. And it shall not happen again. Now, come help me with my hair and then I shall do yours.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The beading on our gowns sparkled in the late afternoon sun like one of the beaches caressed by the Summer Sea. Little mother-of-pearl fish swam in our braids, shifting colors as we moved our heads. We had all chosen earrings of our mothers’ houses; silver bat wings for Catelyn, tiny silver bats on ovals of onyx for Lysa, carved shell feathers for Bellena, and silver raven skulls with obsidian beads for me.

Across the small clearing from us, Lyanna wore ivory silk, gray beads falling along the neckline and down the middle of the skirt, more climbing up her sleeves. From her ears hung collections of teardrop-cut sapphires, their bright blue a beautiful contrast to her dark hair. At her sides, Brandon and Ned wore velvet surcoats, Brandon’s white and Ned’s silvery gray, both with clasps shaped like snarling wolf heads. A step back, Benjen also wore gray, although his was a shade darker. Underneath, all three wore black silk, black herringbone embroidery lending a subtle sense of movement to the fabric even when still.

Lord Stark emerged from between the tents, the same gray velvet surcoat on as Ned, although his was trimmed in white fur, and his black tunic was embroidered with small golden keys. His beard had been neatly trimmed and the top half of his long hair braided back, gold cuffs interspersed in the dark strands. He was strong and regal as he approached Uncle Brynden and Father. As they exchanged pleasantries, I turned my head, bringing my hand up to my mouth.

“If Brandon and Ned age as their father has, I do believe we may end up with a dozen children each,” I murmured in Catelyn’s ear.

“Indeed,” she breathed back, a small smile on her face.

“Alright, lassies,” Brynden turned to us, quickly adding, “and Lucas,” then tipped his head towards the looming castle, “time for a feast.”

We fell into our arrangement naturally. Brandon and Catelyn just behind Lord Stark, Brynden, and Father, then Lucas and Benjen, followed by Lysa and Bellena, and finally me with Ned on one side and Lyanna on the other. Lyanna was surprisingly quiet, keeping her hands clasped in front of her and gazing ahead broodily.

“You look beautiful, Lyanna,” I said after a few moments. “The beading of your gown is magnificent.”

“Hm? Oh, thank you, Alyssandra.” Lyanna gave me a half smile. “Yours is exquisite.”

Before we could converse further, our group paused. Ahead, I could see Robert Baratheon speaking to Lord Stark, a somber young man I guessed was his brother beside him. Lord Stark nodded, and Robert grinned, waiting as the others moved away, then stepping towards me, Ned, and Lyanna.

“Lady Alyssandra.” He smiled at me. “You look lovely.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Oh don’t get formal with me now!” Robert waved his hand around. “We shall be family soon enough, our children cousins.”

“Very well, Robert.” I gave him an indulgent smile.

“Thank you.” He dipped his head, then turned to Lyanna. “And you are radiant as always, my lady.” She allowed him to kiss her hand, although there was a stiffness to her shoulders I had not seen before. Robert straightened and gestured behind him.

“This is my brother, Stannis.” Stannis bowed his head, hands clasped behind his back. His expression gave nothing away, his eyes flicking over us as though measuring for some unknown garment.

“Come, Robert,” Ned said, tipping his head towards the rest of our family, walking away, “we ought not to be far behind them.”

“Right, right!” Robert offered Lyanna his arm, and she quietly took it, letting him lead her after them. Ned and I followed, Stannis falling in behind us.

“You call him the name he has requested without fuss,” Ned said, glancing down at me.

“You like that I call you ‘Eddard,’” I replied, smiling up at him. Ned quietly grunted, and I shook my head, walking in silence the rest of the way to the Hall of A Hundred Hearths. Under the watchful eyes of fathers and uncles, we all separated by house once more. Acting as the head in the absence of Uncle Hoster, Uncle Brynden entered first, with Catelyn, me and Father just behind them, the other three at our heels.

The room was enormous. It had been many years since I had visited Harrenhal, and I had forgotten this horrible cavern. I hated it, hated the long walk to the high table to pay our respects to the hosting and royal families, hated the echoes of our footsteps, hated the shadows stretching up to the ceiling. More than anything, I hated being apart from Ned, knowing he was just thirty feet or so behind me, unable to speak or touch. I wanted the eyes tracking our procession to know I was his, wanted them to burn envy into his back instead of licking hopeful lust along my sides.

Soon. You only have to endure the opening ceremony, and then he can be beside you again.

We took our seats, and my mind glazed over as I stared at Ned across the hall, absentmindedly rubbing his finger along his jaw. Our tryst in the Godswood danced through my thoughts, my chest warming, a low ache making itself known. Just then, Ned met my eyes, and, as though he could read my mind, brushed his thumb over his lips. I blushed, looking away, catching a faint smirk from him as I did.

Ass.

The remaining families entered and took their seats. I paid little attention to them, although we all perked up when the Lannisters entered. Ser Kevan Lannister, his lady wife on his arm, led the golden retinue. Lysa, seated between me and Catelyn, watched Jaime with rapt attention. He was handsome, no doubt, and, from what I had seen of him during his visit to Riverrun, an impressive fighter already. He would be a fine match for Lysa, confident and charming to balance her soft, sweet nature. Being the good-sister of Cersei would be tiresome, to be certain, but surely Lord Tywin would wed her to someone soon, and send her off to her own castle.

I only hope Father does not propose Lucas for her. Or Lord Stark decide he is willing to sacrifice Benjen to the lions. A cousin wed to her brother is close enough.

King Aerys stood, all of us following suit. He made the usual comments about spring and sport and seeing all the High Families together. My gaze slid back to Ned, admiring the strength of his stance. I let my eyes drift down, fantasies of our wedding night filling my mind. After a few minutes of blatant staring, I was drawn back to the king by the murmurs and nods that went through the crowd at the mention of Harlan Grandison’s death.

“His passing means there is a vacant spot in the Kingsguard.” Aerys settled his gaze on Jaime Lannister. “And I have chosen the man to fill it.”

As he condemned the man ( boy, a boy ) to his fate, I glanced at Lysa, disappointment plain on her face. On her other side, Catelyn also watched her. Lysa laced her fingers with ours, breathing deeply, blinking back tears.

“I am sorry, dove,” I whispered. Lysa shook her head. There is nothing to be done , that shake said. Catelyn kissed her temple. That does not mean it does not hurt , the kiss replied. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as we were able, Catelyn and I rejoined Brandon and Ned. Across the hall, Uncle Brynden kept a sharp eye on us; there would be no sneaking off to a terrace this evening. Before long, Ashara and Allyria Dayne had also joined us, greeting Brandon with smiles and me with kisses on both cheeks. Brandon tilted his head at my clear familiarity, but I simply smirked at him before turning my attention back to my friends.

“So, any luck with your suitor?” I asked Ashara. She sighed heavily and shook her head, taking a long drink of wine.

“No, he has been…occupied.” She pursed her lips, looking off across the hall for a moment, then turned back to me with a gentle smile. “But I heard from Oberyn that you are to become a wife soon.” She flicked her eyes to Ned beside me.

“Yes,” I smiled, “yes, upon our return to Riverrun, we shall be wed.” I glanced at Ned. “Eddard, have you met Ashara and Allyria?”

“Briefly, many years ago,” he replied, before dipping his head to both of them. “A pleasure, ladies, to see you again.”

They returned the greeting, and our conversation continued. Around us, the hall filled with laughter and cheer, although nothing could fully take away the gloom of the wretched castle. Ned sat quietly next to me, his hand on my knee, the soft possessiveness soothing my unease far more than the fires or feast. Music soon bounced through the space over the voices, and couples began taking to the dance floor. Allyria and Ashara were quickly taken by the hand, and Brandon and Catelyn left us as well. Lyanna had slipped off, although to what end, I could not guess, for Robert was currently engaged in conversation with Uncle Brynden.

“Lady Alyssandra.” I looked up to see Ser Arthur. “Might I have a dance?” My eyes darted to Ned, who was calmly evaluating the knight. He glanced down at me, and, at my concerned gaze, smiled softly.

“You may dance with whoever you wish, my dear lady,” he told me. “I am not your keeper.” He looked at Ser Arthur again. “Besides, The Sword of the Morning is an honorable man. I trust him to take care with you.”

“Thank you, Quiet Wolf.” Ser Arthur dipped his head to Ned as I took his hand. “I shall return your betrothed to you exactly as she is now.”

That would not be true, however. At the end of our dance, Ser Arthur began to lead me back towards where Ned was waiting, only to be stopped by Ser Axel Darry. Ser Arthur paused, but at my assurance that I was happy to dance with the son of my uncle’s vassal, allowed the other knight to take my hand. As we twirled, I noticed Ned, in his meandering about the hall, had been caught by Ser Kevan, who appeared to be attempting to foist Cersei upon him. Another turn brought the sight of them together, Ned looking bewildered and Cersei murderous. I laughed, making Ser Axel tilt his head in confusion.

“My betrothed has been forced together with the little lioness,” I explained.

“Ah.” Ser Axel nodded, catching a glimpse of them as we spun. “He is bearing her better than many would.” There was a pause as I spun out from him. “Have you given any thought as to who you shall bring to Winterfell with you, my lady?” Ser Axel asked as I returned.

“My cousin, Ser Elmo Piper, has accepted my offer. I do believe Catelyn has claimed Ser Kermit Bracken for herself, and is considering one of the Mallisters. I have not chosen a second.” I smiled at him. “Are you putting yourself forward?”

“I would be honored, my lady.” He paused for a moment. “Although, I must confess, I do not ask from a wholly selfless place. There is a young lady of House Lightfoot who has captured my heart, and I would be glad not to take her so thoroughly from her home.”

“I appreciate your openness, ser.” I considered him. “You have always been a kind and honest man, and I have seen you fight; you are clever and brave with your blade. I shall grant you this position, with the faith that you shall make a happy marriage with your young lady.”

“Thank you, my lady. I shall not disappoint you.”

The dance concluded, and Ser Axel graciously escorted me across the hall to the Lannisters, where Ned was attempting to free himself from Cersei. As we drew closer, I could hear Ser Kevan doing his best to convince them to dance together again, with Ser Jaime, seemingly acting out of brotherly boredom, backing him up. I waved Ser Axel away before stepping up to Ned, giving him a loving smile and taking his elbow possessively, feeling him immediately relax at my touch.

“My apologies, darling, I only meant to be gone from you for a single dance, but seeing as Ser Axel has accepted the position alongside Ser Elmo, I think it a parting well-spent.” I turned to the golden pride before us. “Ser Jaime, lovely to see you again. Congratulations on your appointment.”

“Thank you, Lady Alyssandra.” He dipped his head.

“Lady Lannister,” I smiled sharply, “thank you for entertaining my betrothed in my absence.” Cersei narrowed her eyes, but nodded politely. “Now, if you will excuse us, I require Eddard’s support in a debate I am engaged in with Prince Oberyn.” I dragged him away before any of them could respond.

“I do not see Prince Oberyn,” Ned said as I pulled him towards a quiet corner of the hall, close to where our siblings and my cousins were currently gathered.

“That is because I lied to remove you from that uncomfortable situation,” I replied.

I was about to say more when Lyanna, glaring, dumped a goblet of wine over Benjen’s head. Ned sighed and, with an apologetic look at me, pulled my hand from his elbow and crossed the space to get between the two. He quickly sent Benjen off to get cleaned up, then led Lyanna away from the others. Lyanna began to cry, holding Ned’s surcoat in both hands as he spoke quietly to her and stroked her hair. I watched him soothe her easily, my chest aching at his tenderness.

“Lady Tully.” I was startled out of my adoration by Lord Addam Marbrand leering down at me.

“Lord Marbrand. How are you?”

“I am well.” He looked me over slowly. “You look ravishing this evening.” He took a step closer. “Far too ravishing to be hiding in a dark corner.”

“I am not hiding, my lord. I am waiting.”

“For that wolf?” he sneered, placing a hand on my waist, crowding me. “I could show you a far better time, you know.”

“Lord Marbrand, I thank you for your attention, but I am betrothed,” I said calmly, hiding my discomfort.

“You do not yet wear gray, my lady.” He reached up, brushing my hair over my shoulder. “Do you truly want those dark furs? You would look so much better in golden silk.”

“I will look best with the man I have chosen.” I went to step away, seeing Ned walking back over, but Marbrand grabbed my wrist, yanking me to him. His body pressed against mine, strength and desire clear, and I forced down the pang of fear that brought.

“He is a brute, they all are,” Marbrand scoffed, leaning down. “He doesn’t even dance. That farce with Lady Cersei was excruciating.”

“He dances with me.” Hot, protective anger bloomed in my chest over my distress. “You know nothing of him, of any of them.”

“Wouldn’t you rather be among the civilized world? Dressed in the finest fabrics and glittering with jewels?”

“Marbrand.” Before I could reply, Ned shoved his arm between us, his hand on Marbrand’s chest, pressing him back. “Unhand the lady.” Marbrand gave him a withering look, squeezing my wrist tighter.

“Remove your hand from her,” Ned growled. “Or I shall remove it from your wrist.”

Marbrand looked back at me, glaring up at him over Ned’s arm, then dropped my wrist with a huff and angrily walked away. Ned watched him for a moment, then turned to me, posture mellowing again.

“Are you alright, my dear lady?”

“I am fine, Eddard.” I didn’t look at him, checking my emotions. “Thank you.”

Ned gently tipped my chin up so I was holding his gaze. He studied me, calculating. His cold eyes, soft now (for me, my softness, mine), bored into my own, plucking my hurriedly tucked-away emotions back from me with ease. I swallowed, nervous at what he might find, but after a moment he nodded and took my hand.

“Come, dear one, I must escort Lyanna back to her tent.”

“My father and uncle—” I began to protest as he led me towards the other young members of our families.

“Your cousin shall tell them where you are,” Ned cut me off. “You may bring your new sword, if you like.” He tipped his head towards Ser Axel, who was speaking with Brandon and Catelyn. Upon seeing me, Ser Axel straightened, awaiting my direction. I sighed, realizing that whatever Ned had read in my eyes, he would not rest until he had time alone with me. I made my excuse to Catelyn, asking her to pass it along, then, with Ser Axel two paces behind, walked back out of the Hall of A Hundred Hearths beside Ned and Lyanna.

The cool night air made me lean into Ned as we made our way back down the hill. He silently undid his cloak and handed it to me, looking pleased when I took it without protest. None of us made any attempt at conversation; Lyanna was clearly still distressed over whatever Benjen had said, and I was trying to shake the feeling of Marbrand pressed against me. Upon reaching Lyanna’s tent, she turned, looking between us. I shifted, about to step away from Ned and allow them a moment of privacy, but Lyanna shook her head.

“No, you shall be my sister in less than a moon, and you are already a good friend. I shall not ask my brother to keep secrets from you.” Lyanna sighed, fiddling with her sleeve. “I am sorry, Ned, for causing a commotion. My nerves have been frayed, with the stress of seeing Robert again.” She looked up quickly, eyes wide. “Not that I am unhappy with him! I only mean that to be seen as a Lady Paramount is straining. I am not yet sure how to be what everyone expects.” She looked down again. “Catelyn makes it look so easy.”

“Catelyn is disciplined and proud by nature,” I told her, reaching out and taking her hand, making her look up at me. “She makes it look easy because she was raised to be the heir for our first twelve years, until Edmure’s second name day. And shortly after that, her mother died, and my uncle told her she must take over as Lady of Riverrun. Catelyn has been practicing her entire life to be Brandon’s wife. You will get there, Lyanna. You are smart and kind and bold. You shall be a wonderful Lady Paramount.”

Lyanna threw her arms around me. “Thank you, Alyssandra,” she whispered. “I am very glad my stupid brother asked for your hand.”

“So am I,” I replied, giving her a light squeeze. “Now,” I let her step back, my hands on her shoulders, “get some rest. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Lyanna nodded, then softly said goodnight to Ned before disappearing inside her tent. I took Ned’s elbow once more, letting him walk me to his own tent. He paused outside, giving me the chance to refuse. I glanced over my shoulder at Ser Axel, who dipped his head respectfully.

“I shall ensure you are not interrupted, my lady,” he said quietly, a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Thank you, Ser Axel.”

I followed Ned inside. He immediately unclasped his surcoat, tossing it on a trunk. He sighed, as though the garment had been smothering him, then unbuckled his swordbelt and set it more carefully on a small table. He turned around to see me still standing just inside, watching him, and ducked his head, looking embarrassed.

“My apologies, my lady. I simply could not bear the weight of full formal dress any longer.” Ned took the two steps to close the distance between us, gently gathering my hands and pulling them to his chest. “Now. You are upset, hm? Do you wish to speak about it?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I wish to forget it.” I pulled a hand from his to unfasten his cloak, letting it fall to the ground. Leaning up, I kissed him, my hand slipping back under his, palms pressing against the firm musculature under the black silk. Ned grunted softly and moved his hands to my waist, thumbs gently rubbing through my gown. I broke the kiss, leaning back and brushing the fingers of one hand down his body, the other still firmly over his heart.

“My lady, you do not need to thank me further,” Ned murmured as my fingers reached his breeches.

“I wish to, my lord.” I palmed his cock, looking softly up at him. “Let me show you the depth of my gratitude, Eddard.”

I slipped his cock free of his breeches, stroking it slowly. Ned held my face in both hands, bending to kiss me again. I let his tongue into my mouth, the heat between us quickly rising. I pulled away after a minute and took a breath, then knelt, my hands resting on his hips. My face remained cradled between his hands as I took his cock in my mouth.

“Aly,” Ned sighed, looking at me softly.

I slowly moved my head, letting my tongue drag along him. He was bigger than the few lads I had romped around with, but his hands on my face were so much gentler than theirs had been. I felt tears rising unbidden and blinked rapidly in an effort to hold them back. Ned was watching me closely, however, and frowned, gently pulling me off of him.

“Aly, you don’t have to do anything you don’t wish to. If you wish to stop, you need only say so.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s…” I closed my eyes briefly, breathing in, then opened them again to look up at him. “You’re such a good man, Eddard. The few others I did things with, they were not half so gentle as you.”

“The others?”

“I promise, Eddard, no other has known me as you do.” A wisp of panic twisted in my chest, that he might not believe me. “None of them made me feel any of what you do. And I did not achieve release with them. They only cared about themselves.”

“They were very foolish, then. To treat such a fine lady with such disregard. To miss an opportunity to see and hear you lose yourself to pleasure.” He shook his head.

“Do not blame them, they were boys.” I smiled up at him. “You are a man.” My eyes flicked to his cock. “More man than they could ever hope to be.”

“You flatter me.” He rubbed his thumbs across my cheekbones, smiling.

“I do not.” I shook my head. “In every way, you are the bigger, better man.”

I took his cock in my mouth once more, keeping my eyes on his face. Ned watched me with a new tenderness, letting me move at my own pace, no thrusting of hips or tugging of hair. In the quiet of the tent, on my knees for this honorable, loyal, gruff man, his touch warm, his eyes loving, the peace that washed over me was akin to being born again. He had no agenda, no demands. He simply wanted to enjoy me, to let me give him whatever I was willing. Ned would not take anything I did not offer with my whole heart. I was safe, in every sense of the word, with him.

“Aly,” he warned after a few minutes, “I’m close.”

I pulled off of him, grinning, and said, “Good, I wish to taste your seed, my lord,” before swallowing him again. Ned groaned, his fingers twitching. I slid down as far as I could, then paused for a moment and softly ran the tip of my tongue along the underside of his cock. Ned gasped, hips jerking, and I felt him spill down my throat. I waited there until he gently pushed my head back.

“Not just good for wit, your tongue,” Ned remarked as he pulled me to my feet.

“I am glad you enjoy it,” I replied, smiling and pressing against him.

I had not meant to ask him for anything, had only wanted to give, but it seemed Ned needed more of me. He tugged me to the small cot, sitting on the edge and pulling me into his lap, my gown pooling around us. His mouth was at my neck, one hand on the small of my back, the other sliding up my body to cup my breast. I gasped at his touch, quickly reaching between us to undo the clasps that held my bodice closed. I shoved it off, baring my torso to him. A pained sound left him at the sight, hands carefully touching bare skin, eyes running over me.

“My lady,” he whispered reverentially, storm cloud gaze turned softly up towards mine.

“Go ahead, Eddard. Take of me as you wish.” I laced my fingers in his hair. “I am yours.”

Softly, as though I were made of glass, he kissed along my collarbone and down, his hands at my back forcing me to arch up into the worship of his mouth. I tipped my head back, quietly moaning, as his lips brushed my nipple. My hips moved instinctually, seeking a reprieve from the ache that had been steadily growing since I had dropped his cloak to the ground. A pleased hum left me at the friction I found; Ned grunted, hands quickly grabbing my hips and holding me still.

“Eddard,” I whined, tipping my head forward again to look at him, “let goooo.”

“Aly,” he hissed, “do you realize what you are doing?”

“I am finding relief for the need you have created within me,” I replied, wiggling against his hold.

“Mm.” Ned dug his fingers into me. “You must cease.”

“Whyyyyyy?” I pouted at him.

“You are rutting against my cock. If you continue, I shall spill a second time.”

“So?” I shifted my knees away from his waist, my weight settling on him more firmly, the soft, wet warmth of me pressing against him, hard again. 

“So,” he gritted out, “your thighs shall be sullied. Perhaps between them.”

“Oh, does that count as bedding me? Since we are on a bed?” I cocked my head. “We could move to the ground.”

“Aly.” Ned closed his eyes, slowly exhaling. 

“That cannot count against your honor! We would not be in a bed! And my sex would not be around yours, not truly! Just on !”

“Alyssandra.”

“Fine,” I huffed.

“Thank you.” Ned opened his eyes again as I shifted back, my weight fully on his thighs again.

“If you will not help me, I shall attend to it myself,” I told him petulantly. His brow furrowed, his eyes darting down as I moved my skirts. I watched him follow my hand under them, my fingers moving over starving nerves out of his sight. I let out a contented sigh and he frowned, grabbing my arm.

“What are you doing?” Ned asked lowly.

“I am enjoying my own hand, made better by the sight of you, since you insist on denying me the enjoyment of your cock.” I raised my brow. “Would you prefer I get another to assist me?”

“Absolutely not,” Ned growled, pulling my hand away and grabbing my waist, yanking me forward again and roughly kissing me. “You are infuriating, you know that?” he muttered, rubbing his face against my neck as I rolled my hips.

“I have been told.”

I slid my fingers into his hair again. Ned sighed, then retraced his trail of kisses down my chest, making me arch my back, pressing my skin to his lips. Soft moans left us both as I rocked against him, my nails scratching at his scalp, his hands squeezing my hips. I needed this, needed him , with a profound ache, and as I rutted against him I could not help but be filled with an overwhelming devotion.

“Aly, my lady,” Ned groaned against my skin, thumbs digging in around my hipbones.

“Yes, darling,” I gasped, my thighs quivering, my release so close. “Be a good boy and spill again for me.” Ned hid his face between my breasts, a soft whimper escaping him as his seed spilled on my inner thigh. “Ned,” I moaned a moment later, my hips jerking with my own peak, my body flooding with warmth and collapsing against his. We sat in silence for several minutes, my fingers sliding through his hair, his breath warm on my sternum.

“Who were they? The others?” Ned asked softly, tipping his head back to look up at me.

“The only one of note is Ronald Vance,” I quietly replied. “The other two were lads in my uncle’s employ. The blacksmith’s apprentice and a stableboy.” I paused for a second. “I kissed Oberyn once. And, um, Allyria Dayne. More than once.”

“Hmm.” He cupped my cheek, brushing his thumb over my lips. “And when you say they did not know you as I do…”

“Your hand is the only one besides my own I have known between my legs.” I leaned into his palm. “Your mouth is the only one to have tasted me. Your eyes are the only ones to have gazed upon me.”

“Good.” Ned dropped his hand and turned his head so his cheek was against my breast, sighing.

“You do not care that I kissed another woman?” I asked.

“Why would I?” Ned rubbed his face against me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “You have chosen me. And ’tis not as though you can carry another woman’s bastard.” He looked up at me again. “Besides, I have had my fair share of experiences with other young men.”

“Oh, so you and Robert…” I made a crude gesture with one hand.

“No! No, gods, no, not Robert.” He shook his head. “No, a few other lads in the Vale, but not him.” He fiddled with my hair, hanging low on my back. “I like them prettier than Robert.”

“I ought to go back to my own tent,” I murmured after a long moment of gazing at him. Ned nodded, but made no attempt to remove me from his lap. With a deep sigh, I stood, pulling my bodice back up and quickly clasping it closed. Ned watched me, his expression open and relaxed. When I had smoothed out my skirts and fixed my hair, he stood, tucking himself back into his breeches, then crossed the tent to pick up his cloak. He held it out to me, brow raised expectantly.

“It would not do for you to catch a chill on your walk,” he said quietly.

“That is not why you wish for me to wear your cloak,” I teased, taking it from him and wrapping it around my shoulders. “You want any passing young men to know I have been claimed.”

“Aye.” Ned stepped closer, gently holding my chin. “I do not wish for Ser Axel to be forced to maim a man his very first night on the job.” Ned bent and softly kissed me. “And I also do not wish for you to be cold,” he said as he straightened again, dropping his hand to push open the flap of the tent, ducking out after me. Ser Axel arched his brow at us, a small smirk on his lips.

“I shall come by in the morning,” I said, turning back to Ned and smiling.

“I look forward to it.” Ned lifted his hand to cup my cheek, thumb again tracing my lips. “Sleep well, my heart.” His lips pressed to my forehead, then he stepped back and dipped his head to Ser Axel. I turned and began the walk towards my own tent, my newly sworn sword at my side and my beloved wolf’s gaze warm on my back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Early the next morning, Catelyn and I traipsed back across the grounds to the Starks’ tents, Ser Axel and Ser Kermit following loyally. Brandon and Ned were sitting outside, Brandon with his sword in his lap, Ned peeling an orange. 

 “Have you not honed your blade enough?” Ned asked, watching Brandon.

“I want it sharp enough to shave the hair from a woman’s cunt,” Brandon replied, gazing lovingly at his sword. Catelyn gasped, and his head snapped up, eyes widening as he saw who stood before him. 

“Not your cunt!” Brandon said hurriedly, Catelyn already eyeing the sword warily and shrinking into me. “Just a cunt!”

“Who else’s would you be close enough to to do such a thing?” Catelyn demanded, glaring.

“No one’s!” Brandon stood, setting the sword aside. Behind him, Ned had pressed his fist to his mouth, clearly stifling his laughter.

“Catelyn.” Brandon went to grab her hands, but she darted behind me, frowning over my shoulder at him. “Catelyn, stop it.” She continued to glare. “My lady, please. Forgive my crassness, I beg of you. I did not realize I was in your company.”

“Fine.” Catelyn pursed her lips, stepping around me. “But should you say one more foul thing, Brandon Stark, I shall, I shall…” Her eyes landed on Ser Kermit. “I shall have Ser Kermit hit you in the stones.”

“A justified response, my lady,” Brandon replied, giving me a disbelieving look as Catelyn brushed by him. I arched a brow, mouth set, then followed her, sitting on a crate beside Ned. He held up a segment of the orange he had been peeling; I grabbed his hand and pulled it to my mouth, delicately flicking my tongue over his fingers as I took the fruit from him. He blinked at me, lips parted, as I smirked at him, chewing.

“Seven Hells, and Father was concerned about my behavior,” Brandon grumbled, watching us.

“I did not ask her to do that,” Ned retorted.

“You also did not stop her,” Brandon pointed out, sheathing his sword under Catelyn’s suspicious glare.

“My apologies for not yanking my hand out of my lady’s grasp.” Ned rolled his eyes, then turned back to me. “You do not need to be so…”

“Teasing? Lustful? Sexually aggressive?” I suggested.

“I was going to say ‘forward,’ but aye, those as well.”

“Hm.” I flicked my eyes over him. “You seemed quite happy with my forwardness last night.”

“Corrupting my little brother, are you?” Brandon asked, a glint in his eyes.

“Enjoying. I am enjoying him,” I corrected. “As is my right, as his betrothed.” It was quiet for a minute, then I sighed, looking around and standing back up. “Well I am bored already. I do hope we shall not be such a dull collection once at Winterfell together, or I may throw myself off a rampart.” I started to walk away, Ser Axel turning to follow me.

“Wait, Alyssandra!” Ned jumped up, grabbing my elbow. “Where are you going?”

“To find Oberyn. I require either entertainment or a strong drink, and he is quite good at providing both.” I smiled at the little frown that pulled at Ned’s face. “You are welcome to join me, Eddard. Oberyn seemed to take well to you yesterday; I am sure he would be happy to converse with you again.”

Chapter Text

Seeing as there was little else to do before the events of the tournament got under way, Catelyn and Brandon joined us in our walk to find the young Dornish prince, the ladies’ pair of knights following us closely. Alyssandra cheerfully chattered away as she pulled me along, telling me about all the adventures she and Prince Oberyn had gotten up to during her time in Sunspear. Once among the Dornish tents, she quickly found her friend, seeming to know by instinct exactly where he would be. Lounging outside a tent I presumed was his, Prince Oberyn stood as we approached, smiling and hugging Alyssandra.

“You bring two wolves to me this time, sphinx,” he said as he released her, sharp eyes quickly bouncing over me to appraise Brandon. “The wild one; quite a handsome canine.” He looked back at Alyssandra and arched his brow. “He is larger than his brother, hm?” She glanced at Catelyn, who made some quick gesture I couldn’t begin to comprehend, then turned back to Oberyn with a small shrug.

“The difference is not significant.” She wrapped her hands around my arm once more. “Besides, you should know that a woman’s happiness depends not upon a man’s size, but upon his skills. A great sword wielded poorly can easily be defeated by a dagger wielded well.”

“You speak true.” Oberyn dipped his head, conceding, then turned to down the rest of whatever he had been drinking before smiling at us. “You are looking for something to do, sphinx?” Alyssandra nodded. “I seem to recall you being very fond of gardens; there is a rather wild one, tucked behind one of these gloomy towers, that I think would suit your tastes.”

Oberyn led us through the tents and up the hill, his own guard joining Alyssandra and Catelyn’s. The idea of having an armed man constantly behind me was somewhat unnerving, but I supposed I would have to get used to it, for either Ser Axel or Ser Elmo would be at Alyssandra’s back every second of the day from now on. At least Ser Axel seemed likable—he had a quiet confidence that fit well for a sworn sword, making him intimidating enough that she would be left alone, but allowing him to remain in the background. I had not spent enough time with her cousin, Ser Elmo, to make any evaluation of him, but I trusted her to have chosen well.

We rounded one of the many towers of Harrenhal to see an overflowing garden, bright and soft and lush and exactly the sort of place Alyssandra would enjoy. She gasped, then tugged me towards a bush with great round clusters of purple flowers. She gently cupped one, staring at it intensely, then turned her face up towards mine.

“I adore hydrangeas,” she said, smiling. “I have always wanted a collection of them, but they are difficult to grow here.”

“I am sure we could find a spot in the Glass Gardens for one,” I told her.

“Oh, no, you do not need—”

“Aly.” I delicately grabbed her jaw, not physically stopping her from speaking, but quietly asking her to submit. “It would please me to give this to you. And you want to please me, do you not? Want to be a good wife?” She blinked, her pretty lips slightly parted, a faint flush on her cheeks. She seemed about to speak when Catelyn called her name, and she shook herself, then turned and walked towards the sound of her cousin’s voice. I admired her for a moment, then followed. Behind a hedge, Catelyn was kneeling in front of a sprawling sheet of lavender, a few stalks gathered in her hand, Brandon and Oberyn standing beside her.

“Aly, could I borrow—”

“Here.” Alyssandra held out a dagger.

“Thank you.” Catelyn took it and quickly began cutting the stems.

“Where were you hiding that?” I asked, brow furrowed, eyes searching her body.

“What do you mean?” She tilted her head, gesturing down. “My leg, obviously. Did you not see it yesterday?”

“See it?” Brandon grinned, slowly turning his face towards me. “What were you doing looking under the fair lady’s skirts?”

“I wasn’t looking,” I replied, crossing my arms. I was busy kissing every inch of skin I could, busy reminding her she is mine.

“Clearly, or you would have noticed that I keep a blade there,” Alyssandra said with a teasing smile. I frowned, huffing, feeling heat rising to my face.

“So you were simply under her skirts, not looking?” Oberyn clarified, also looking quite smug.

“Oh by the snow,” I grumbled, glaring at all of them. “I was preoccupied! The thigh on my shoulder did not have a blade!”

“That is enough,” Catelyn declared, standing and handing the knife back to Alyssandra. “Such things ought not to be spoken of so openly.”

I watched Alyssandra slip her dagger into her pocket, her skirts moving around her hand, then she withdrew it, empty. She glanced up at me, catching my gaze, and smiled, reaching once more for my arm.

“All of my daily-wear gowns have a slit in the right pocket, so that I may keep my blade hidden, but access it easily,” she explained as we began walking after Catelyn and Brandon, Oberyn settling in on her other side. We meandered around for another hour or so before making our way back down the hill, our conversation light and joyful. At Alyssandra’s insistence, Oberyn continued with us back towards our tents, a persistent glint in his eye that I couldn’t quite place. We paused at Lyanna’s tent, both Catelyn and Alyssandra wanting to speak with her; Lyanna greeted us, looking distressed, shifting her weight nervously.

Has Robert done something? I’ll pound him.

Before I could ask, there was a noise from her tent, which sent Alyssandra darting around Lyanna to investigate. I heard her gasp as Lyanna turned and grabbed her, then the flap fell closed, urgent whispers being traded behind it. I glanced at Brandon, who simply shrugged, then sighed and pushed open the flap to join my sister and betrothed. They stood just inside, holding hands, looking intently at each other. Behind them, on Lyanna’s cot, sat a man, in only an unlaced shirt and breeches.

Oh Hell, it’s not even Robert.

“Lyanna Stark,” I turned towards her, crossing my arms, “why is there a man who is neither your brother nor a servant of Winterfell in your tent alone with you?”

“He is one of Father’s men!” she exclaimed, frowning at me. “His name is Howland Reed. Three squires attacked him; I chased them off, but he was injured, so I brought him back to tend to his wounds.”

I looked back at the man, who stood and dipped his head with a soft ‘my lord,’ and noticed the bandages peeking out from the collar of his shirt. I sighed again, turning back to Lyanna, who was biting her lip and gripping Alyssandra’s hand. I was struck suddenly by a vision of younger versions of them, standing before me just as they did now, Lyanna (but Lya never wore her hair so short) defensive and Alyssandra (and Aly’s is curlier) hurt, both with tears glistening. There was a flash of a boy who could have been me, had I ever once worn a red doublet; Not-Lyanna and Not-Alyssandra both turned to him, then all three faded once more, and I was standing in a tent with my sister belligerently explaining why she had brought Howland Reed here without informing anyone.

“Enough, Lyanna,” I interrupted, holding up a hand. “You acted out of compassion, and you are correct, we have a duty to all our people. I shall not chastise you, nor shall I inform Father that you were alone in your tent with a man. But he cannot stay here. We shall find somewhere for him to rest and recover.”

The relief was immediately evident on Lyanna’s face; Alyssandra gave me a curious look, but said nothing, taking my elbow again as we followed Lyanna and Howland out into the late morning sun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the day passed in much the same manner as the morning, with the addition of our younger siblings. Oberyn disappeared for the afternoon, but returned for supper with the Tullys. Ser Brynden and Ser Willem greeted him cheerfully, and I tried not to chafe at the easy way in which he settled amongst Alyssandra’s family. After our meal, our group of five from the morning quietly gathered again. I caught Father watching closely as we arranged ourselves, but at the sight of Ser Axel and Ser Kermit stepping up to accompany us, he relaxed. We slipped through the tents, our walk aimless besides the desire to enjoy each other’s company without the scrutiny of fathers and uncles. As we neared a split in the path, Brandon bent to whisper something to Catelyn. She thought for a moment, then nodded. Turning to Alyssandra, she again made a gesture that had not a lick of meaning to me, but clearly Alyssandra understood, for she nodded, and continued walking straight as Catelyn and Brandon turned to walk up the hill towards the castle, Ser Kermit five paces behind them. I remained quiet as we walked, the sound of Alyssandra and Oberyn conversing a pleasant background to my thoughts. A few minutes later we were among the Dornish tents once more. Oberyn stopped outside his and turned to us, looking me over slowly, then smiling at Alyssandra.

“Would you like to come in? Have a drink with me?” he asked, a twinkle in his eye. It was clear the question was for me to answer, as Alyssandra was looking up at me hopefully. 

“I would like that, Your Highness,” I responded.

Oberyn shook his head, chuckling. “You may call me by my name, Quiet Wolf.”

“Then you must call me by mine.” We followed him inside, Ser Axel positioning himself by the entrance with a nod to Alyssandra.

“Alright, Ned.” Oberyn grinned at me, pouring three goblets of wine. “If you insist.” He held one out to me, then crossed the relatively spacious tent to a collection of cushions on the floor, sitting down with a small sigh. Alyssandra gracefully lowered herself next to him, taking the offered goblet. I sat on her other side, offering my compliments on the wine. Oberyn accepted them, then began to ask me about Winterfell. I answered, and in return asked about Sunspear. We traded discussions of home for thirty minutes or so, Alyssandra glancing between us and slowly sipping her wine. The conversation turned to her time in Dorne, and Oberyn began filling in bits she had left out in her earlier recountings.

“No,” Alyssandra interrupted his telling of the time they lost their guards for an entire afternoon, “that was after the Daynes visited, for I kissed Allyria in the gardens before I kissed you!”

Oberyn flicked his eyes to me, gauging my reaction. I shrugged, and he leaned back, tilting his head.

“You are not bothered by her openness?” he asked. 

“Do you wish for her hand?” I replied.

“You are very beautiful,” Oberyn said to Alyssandra before focusing back on me, “but no, I am quite content to remain your betrothed’s loyal friend.”

“Then no, I do not care about her physical attraction to you.” I arched my brow. “As I told her, I have kissed other girls, and had my share of experiences with other lads.”

“Have you now?” Oberyn asked. I nodded. He considered me hungrily for a moment, making me feel like a piece of meat. Alyssandra’s eyes darted between us, her breathing picking up, a flush rising on her cheeks. 

“Would you like to have another?” Oberyn asked quietly. “I will admit, the two of you together are an enticing sight. I would love to show you both a bit of Dornish pleasure.” I thought for a moment, then looked at Alyssandra. 

“Please, Eddard?” She pouted up at me, cornflower eyes wide and soft. I considered for another second, then bent and kissed her. She leaned into it, pressing against me, allowing me to easily tug her up and towards the cot. Her hands moved to grab my shoulders and push me down, but I took them in my own, breaking our kiss.

“No no, wee fox,” I murmured. “Face him. Back against my chest.”

Alyssandra turned around and sat on my lap, her perfect ass hugging my cock, making me bite back a groan. I wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing her neck and motioning Oberyn over with my free hand. He approached with a soft grin, bending down to cup Alyssandra’s cheek and gently kiss her, her hands already grabbing at him. A quiet chuckle escaped him, then he was slipping his fingers into my hair and pulling my face towards his. He kissed delicately, but when I opened my mouth to him, the passion in him immediately burst out, grip tightening, tongue pressing. Alyssandra rubbed against me, then, when we continued to kiss over her shoulder, tipped her head back to nip at my throat. I felt Oberyn twitch, his legs pressed against mine, and when he broke from me I saw that she had grabbed his cock through his breeches.

“That is not polite,” I chastised her, snatching her wrist and pulling her hand away. I grabbed the other one as well, pulling them behind her back and holding them there with one hand.

“Eddaaaaard,” Alyssandra whined.

“Spread your legs,” I told her, my free hand pulling up her skirt. When she didn’t immediately move, I pushed her thigh over, nudging her other calf with my foot and exposing her to Oberyn. He slowly ran a hand up her thigh, then brushed the backs of his fingers between her legs, looking smug at the way her breath hitched slightly.

“Shall he taste you, little fox?” I asked softly, kissing behind her ear. “Would you like your friend to kneel for you, use his tongue on your sex?” She nodded, letting her legs relax further apart. “Ask sweetly, my heart,” I gently prodded.

“Please, Oberyn, I want to feel your mouth between my legs,” she pleaded breathily.

“Who am I to deny such a beauty a request such as this?” Oberyn replied, sinking to his knees with a grin. He firmly grabbed her thighs and leaned in; Alyssandra bucked against his mouth, her head falling back against my shoulder. I took the opportunity to kiss her throat, the hand not wrapped around her wrists sliding up her body to cup her breast.

“Teeth, Ned,” she breathed. “Please, your teeth, need them, need you to mark me, please, please.”

“Not proper,” I grumbled into her soft, sweet skin.

“So? Please, please Ned, pleeeeeease,” she begged, rocking her hips into Oberyn’s ministrations and maddeningly building the heat in my loins with the resulting friction between us. “Need it, need you, please, gods, Ned, need you so much it hurts !”

“You would not grant such a pretty plea?” Oberyn asked, glancing up at me. “You are made of steel, my friend.”

“Neddddd,” Alyssandra whined again, rubbing against my cock. “Please?”

I tugged at the bodice of her gown, moving it just enough to reveal the swell of her breast. (How good they shall look with my babe at them.) My finger slipped under the fabric, brushing over her nipple. From between her legs, Oberyn watched me, his mouth slowly working her up again.

“You’ll be good, hm?” I murmured. “Do what I say? No whining?”

“Yes, yes!” Alyssandra nodded. “I’ll be so good!”

“Alright.”

I bent my head, pushing her breast up with my palm, and pressed my teeth into her skin. Alyssandra moaned, arching up, then squirmed in my lap as Oberyn clearly changed what he was doing. I felt him push her legs down against mine, holding her still, as I bit down again.

“Yes, yes, gods!”

Alyssandra clenched her fists, shuddering, then slumped against me. Oberyn sat back, looking smug, then casually swiped his thumb over his lips as he met my eyes.

“Do you taste as good as she does?” he asked.

“Would you like to find out?” I replied. He grinned, and I gently shifted Alyssandra off of my lap onto the floor beside him. She looked up at me eagerly, running her tongue over her teeth. I smiled at her, loosening the laces of my breeches with one hand and stroking her hair with the other. My fingers ran along her jaw, coming to hold her chin.

“You must share, my heart.” She nodded. “Good.”

I kept a hand gently on the back of her neck as I allowed Oberyn to take my cock—first in his hand, then in his mouth. Alyssandra watched him for a minute, then, eyes on my face, tilted her head and slowly kissed up my thigh. When she reached the top, she held my gaze for a second before pushing my leg back and angling herself under Oberyn. I was about to ask her what she was doing when her lips pressed against my stones, and my hips jerked. Oberyn made a disgruntled noise and I mumbled an apology, gripping the blanket below me in a desperate effort to control my reactions to their combined attention. She’s taken one fully in her mouth, gods be good. I felt my release rapidly approaching and pushed them both away. Alyssandra pouted, although she was quickly made happy again by me pulling her back into my lap.

“Want you to rut on my cock like you did last night.”

“But what about Oberyn?” Alyssandra asked, beginning to roll her hips. I glanced at him, then motioned him closer with a finger. He moved to stand just beside us, stroking Alyssandra’s hair. I slowly brushed a hand up his leg to his hip, then slid it over to press lightly against his cock.

“You wish for him as well?” I asked softly, pulling the laces of his breeches loose and slipping my hand in, loosely stroking him.

“Please?” Alyssandra leaned forward and kissed me. “Please, Ned,” she breathed against my lips.

“Mm, alright.”

I removed my hand as Alyssandra turned her face towards Oberyn and opened her mouth. He slipped his fingers into her hair, gently controlling her movements. She seemed quite happy to allow him to move her, and a thought crossed my mind. I grabbed her hips, holding her still just above me, then began to rock up, rubbing against her. Alyssandra’s fingers dug into my shoulders, a moan vibrating in the back of her throat, and Oberyn tightened his grip.

“You are a fortunate man,” he said to me, jaw tight.

“I know.”

I couldn’t tell what Alyssandra did, although I guessed it was something with her tongue, but it pulled a sharp groan from Oberyn. She rolled her hips in my grasp, matching my movements, and released one of my shoulders to gently fondle his stones, quickly pulling us both to the edge. For a long moment the air was thick with tension, then, with a sharp thrust, I spilled on her thighs. A few seconds later, Oberyn groaned, holding her head down, and Alyssandra shuddered, rolling her hips twice more against me before relaxing into me again. After a breath, Oberyn eased his grip, allowing her up, then bent and kissed her, before turning to kiss me.

“Wonderful,” he said, straightening and tucking himself back into his breeches. “Should you ever wish to do this again, please, do not hesitate to say so.”

Alyssandra carefully stood and adjusted her gown as, like Oberyn, I tucked myself back into my breeches. Her hair was tousled from our hands; I stood and gently moved the pins back into place. She smiled thankfully at me, then turned to Oberyn.

“A pleasure, as always, my dear friend. We shall see you on the morrow.”

“Good night, sphinx.” Oberyn dipped his head to her. “Good night, Ned.” Another dip. 

“Good night, Oberyn.”

Ser Axel raised his brows as we exited, but said nothing, falling into step behind us as we walked back across the grounds. Reaching her tent, Alyssandra paused and turned to me. I gently cupped her cheek, gazing down fondly.

“You are tired, my heart.” Alyssandra began to shake her head in protest, but a yawn caught her off guard. “See? Go, sleep. I shall see you first thing tomorrow.” I bent to kiss her other cheek, then released her, watching her turn away with a smile. Ser Axel again gave me a knowing look, but kept his mouth shut, dipping his head respectfully as I walked by.

If this is how the rest of this tournament shall go, I shall be well-pleased indeed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The crown prince, a triumphant expression on his face, rode down the lane. He did not stop his horse at the maiden who the tournament was in honor of nor at his wife. Instead, his puffing black destrier halted in front of our section, and a crown of blue roses was placed in Lyanna’s lap, then Rhaegar rode off without a word.

“No, don’t!”

“Brandon!”

Catelyn leapt forward and grabbed Brandon’s elbow as Ned shoved himself in front of him, hands on his shoulders. Brandon wordlessly growled, pressing against Ned. Ned shifted a foot back, bracing himself. Brandon was taller, but so was Robert; consistent sparring had taught Ned how to hold his own against them. 

“Have you lost your mind?” Ned hissed, shaking Brandon. “He is the crown prince! Sit the hell down before Aerys condemns you to death!”

“He dishonors our sister,” Brandon quietly snarled. 

“Honor is not worth dying over!” Ned argued. “Lyanna is not hurt, Robert is not offended.” He tilted his head towards where Robert was watching Rhaegar exit, mildly annoyed but mostly confused.

“Please, Brandon,” Catelyn softly beseeched, pulling at his arm. “Do not make this worse.”

Brandon sat with a huff, Ned cautiously sitting beside him. The stands were silent as everyone processed what had just happened. Lyanna glanced back at us, brow knitted in confusion and concern; I reached out and squeezed her shoulder.

“It shall be alright. I am sure it was nothing.”

A lie. I am not sure. The stirrings in the Crownlands have perhaps not yet reached Winterfell, but the Prince is making moves. What this one is, I cannot yet guess, but it is a calculated decision. I only hope he knows what he is doing.

Chapter Text

The journey back to Riverrun was quiet—Brandon stewing in his anger at Prince Rhaegar, Ned stewing in his frustration with Brandon, Catelyn stewing in her anxiety over him, Lyanna stewing in guilt and confusion and emotions related to Robert that I could not decipher. Lysa, too, carried an anxiety I could not glean the source of, although I had a few guesses. Regardless, we rode home, to the busy preparations Mother was heading for my imminent wedding.

In an effort to obtain a bit of quiet after three days of Mother bustling about us, Ned and I were sitting in the library, Brandon having just taken his leave of us after making a joke about wedding nights and setting the bar for a marriage. I had laughed it off, but as I looked at Ned, I saw that he wore a more serious expression. Annoyance shimmered in his eyes; I quickly pressed down my worry and instead attempted to lighten his countenance. 

“Nervous about the bedding, Eddard?” I teased. He frowned and looked away from me. I cocked my head, confused, and placed a hand on his knee.

“Eddard? Whatever is the matter?”

“’Tis nothing.”

“’Tis not nothing.” I gently cupped his cheek, turning his face back towards mine and searching it, finding only cool uncertainty. He gazed at me for a moment, then sighed and stood, crossing the room to the window.

“Do not concern yourself over it,” he said distantly, and my heart sank. 

“Please, Eddard, forgive me.” I moved to stand behind him, hesitantly placing my hand on his back. “Whatever I have done, tell me, and I shall remedy it.”

“No, no, Alyssandra, I…” He sighed again and turned around, taking my hands and bringing them to his chest. “You have done nothing. You are perfect, which is the problem. I am indeed nervous about the bedding. I am concerned that I shall disappoint you.”

“Eddard.” I smiled softly, tilting my head. “You cannot disappoint me, certainly not with this. I already know what you are working with; I think it shall serve quite satisfactorily.”

“But…” Ned took a deep breath. “What if I…what if I am done quickly?” I stared blankly at him and he huffed, then continued, “What if I spill my seed before you have felt all the pleasure that you ought?”

“Well, should that occur, darling, I shall keep you in me until you are hard again, while these beautiful hands,” I leaned in and kissed the back of each, “keep me engaged. After all, we should try for more than a single round, I do think.”

“Hm.” Ned remained looking unconvinced.

“Do not fret, my dear wolf. If you are so concerned with regards to my pleasure, I am certain I shall have an enjoyable night.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Godswood of Riverrun glowed warmly with torches. Near the heart tree, beside his father, Eddard glimmered in ivory and gold, snatching my breath with his strong, stoic beauty. I met his eyes and beamed, tears prickling in my eyes. My love, my joy, my Eddard. All mine. We reached him, and for a moment, all was still. Father turned to me, a soft sadness in his eyes, and gently kissed my cheek. 

“You be a good girl, you hear?” he said quietly.

“I will be, Father.” I smiled at him. He blinked twice, then exhaled slowly and turned to face the other two men.

“Who comes before the Old Gods this night?” Rickard asked, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Alyssandra Blackwood, of House Tully, comes here to be wed,” Father answered. “A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?”

“Eddard Flint, of House Stark, comes here to claim this daughter of the river,” Ned responded with a wink at me. “Who gives her?”

“Willem Piper, of House Tully, her father.”

“Lady Alyssandra, will you take this man?” asked Rickard.

“I take this son of the snow,” I replied.

Ned held out his hand. Father placed my own in it. They stared at each other for a moment, some silent promise passing between them. Father nodded, then stepped back, allowing Ned to lead me the ten or so feet to Rickard and the heart tree.

“Let the couple now make their vows to one another,” Rickard said, tipping his head towards Ned, indicating he should start.

“Alyssandra, I vow to uphold your honor, to provide you with a comfortable home, and to protect you from all harm to the best of my abilities. I vow to keep you warm even on the coldest winter nights. I vow to be gentle and understanding with you, and to always keep you in my heart.” Ned squeezed my hands, smiling.

“Eddard,” I took a deep breath, my throat suddenly tight with emotion, “I vow to be loyal to you and your house. I vow to make a warm and happy home for you and to be a source of comfort. I vow to be a good mother to the children I bear you. I vow to support you and to treat your heart with care.” I squeezed his hands back, and we both looked to Rickard. 

“Having made their vows to each other, the couple shall now ask the Gods for their blessings.” Rickard gestured to the heart tree. We knelt and bowed our heads.

“How long are we supposed to stay here?” I whispered after a minute. 

“Until we have sufficiently prayed,” Ned whispered back.

“How long is that?” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, catching him doing the same.

“Do you feel ready for my cloak, my lady?” Ned asked, a tiny smile tugging at his face.

“I feel ready for the feast, Eddard.”

“Alright.”

Ned stood and offered me his hands, pulling me up. He gently undid the clasp of my cloak, slipping it from my shoulders and carefully folding it before handing it to Rickard, who said something that didn’t reach my ears through the excited roaring of my heart. Ned’s own cloak settled around me, and then he was kissing me and everyone was clapping. Ned broke away and smiled down at me, then scooped me up and began carrying me back towards the Great Hall.

“You’re hungry?” he asked as he walked. 

“Dreadfully so, Eddard. Why, I could almost eat you.”

“Well, do not overindulge, my lady. I plan to fill you well tonight.” He smirked at me. I pressed my hand to his chest, smiling up at him.

“I look forward to it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Great Hall was loud and warm and bright, full of music and laughter and delicious scents. Sitting beside Ned, his hand on my thigh, my chest burned with happiness. As our guests danced and drank, I spoke with Ned’s mother, Lyarra, at length about Winterfell, before she was called away by some antics of Benjen. I was about to ask Ned about a meadow his mother had mentioned when Brandon and Robert approached, matching glints in their eyes.

“Alright you two, you know what time it is,” Robert said, grinning.

“Come along, sister.” Brandon held out a hand. “Allow us to help you out of your lovely gown.”

I took the offered hand, smiling as I watched Catelyn and Bellena pull Ned to his feet. The Northern men quickly surrounded me, pulling at laces and skirts as we made our way to my bedchamber, leaving bits of cloth scattered behind us. Looking through the collection of faces, I caught Ned’s bewildered expression, Dacey Mormont yanking at his shirt. We reached my door, Brandon releasing my hand and pushing me towards Ned.

“She’s got tits so good I wish I’d never been weaned,” Willem Dustin sighed.

“My cunt would make you wish you could be born again,” I replied with a smirk. 

“Alright!” Ned grabbed my hand as the gathered group laughed. “Good night to you all!” He dragged me into my chambers and slammed the door, spinning around with an exasperated expression.

“I’m fine!” I laughed as he inspected me. “Really, Eddard, I…” I trailed off as I noticed the heat in his expression. 

“Lord Dustin was quite impressed with the sight of you,” he said quietly, stepping closer and brushing his fingertips up my sides.

“I care not what Lord Dustin thinks of me. He is not my husband.”

“Mmm, say it again.”

“My husband.” I held his face in my hands. “My dear husband.”

“Awfully quiet in there, Ned!” Brandon yelled through the door. “Thought I taught you better than that!”

“C’mon, Ned! Get on with it!” Robert added. “Give the lady what she’s been aching for!”

“Oh, Ned!” I yelled back with exaggerated breathiness. “Oh, yes, ah—Ned!” 

He’d thrown me over his shoulder and quickly crossed the room, setting me on the bed. He knelt in front of me, hands trailing up and down my calves. We stared at each other for a moment, then I grabbed his face again, tugging him into a kiss. I let my knees fall apart as I leaned back, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pulling him with me. Ned braced himself above me with one arm, his free hand slipping between us.

“Eddard,” I whined as his fingers stroked over my cunt. “Husband, please, I want your cock.”

“Patience, my dear wife. You will get it. But I want you to enjoy it.”

He slid a finger into me, making me forget the protest I was about to make. He slowly pumped it a few times before adding a second, bending his head as he did to kiss my neck. My breathing sped up, his fingers curling inside me making my skin tingle.

“Ned, Ned, yes,” I gasped. 

“That’s it, wife, enjoy yourself,” he murmured.

“Oh, gods, Ned,” I moaned, pleasure washing over me, an ‘atta boy’ coming through the door from Robert. Ned gently stroked me through my release, then removed his fingers, giving me a moment to catch my breath before shifting his hips, the head of his cock brushing against my cunt. He cupped my face, looking at me tenderly.

“Ready?”

I nodded eagerly. Ned smiled and pushed into me. My breath caught in my chest, my mouth falling open in shock at just how full I felt. Ned waited, letting me adjust. I took a deep breath and experimentally rocked my hips, making him whimper. Hooking my legs around his waist, I pulled him even closer to me, our noses brushing.

“Ruin me, Eddard Stark,” I whispered.

“I love you, Alyssandra Tully,” Ned breathed before pressing his lips to mine urgently and beginning to thrust. He broke the kiss after a moment to mouth at my neck, surely leaving a scattering of marks that I would have to creatively cover in the morning. The hand that had been holding my face moved down my body, coming to rest low on my stomach. His thumb pressed against sensitive nerves, making me twitch around him.

“Oh, Ned, yes!” I moaned, slipping my fingers up the back of his neck and into his hair. “Yes, ah, gods!”

“Aly,” he groaned in my ear, “my lady, my wife, my heart. You feel exquisite.”

“There you go, Ned!” Brandon yelled as I moaned again. Ned huffed, but his annoyance was immediately dismissed as I kissed his jaw and rocked my hips against his.

I tugged his head up, exposing his neck. He had marked me, I wanted to mark him in turn. My teeth grazed over his skin. Ned let out a pleased grunt. I dug them in, just a bit.

“Oh, yes,” he moaned quietly.

I felt a second release quickly building in me. Ned continued his deep, measured thrusts, his thumb now gently rubbing. I shifted my head, finding a spot in the crook of his neck. The pressure inside me burst, sending pleasure shooting through my body, and I bit down. Ned growled wordlessly, giving another few quicker thrusts before pressing fully into me. A joy unlike any I’d felt before seized my heart as I felt him spill in my cunt, groaning my name.

After a minute, Ned carefully sat back and slid out of me. He laid down next to me, grabbing my waist and pulling me into him. I rested my head on his chest, slowly tracing circles on his stomach while he stroked my hair. We lay in comfortable silence for a stretch before I felt the desire for him growing again. I shifted, sitting up so I could kiss up his chest to his neck, my hand gliding down his stomach to stroke his cock. Ned lightly tugged on my hair, forcing me to break away from him.

“Does my wife need more?” he chuckled.

“Please, husband?” I pouted. “I want to ride you.”

“I am not a horse, dearest.”

“No, ugh, just—” I sat up more, kissing along his jaw and wrapping my fingers around his cock, quickly getting him fully hard again, “—just stay there.”

I swung my leg over him, reaching down to guide his cock into me. I slowly sank down, watching his face, hands on his stomach. I rolled my hips, grinning when he groaned. 

“By the Gods, Alyssandra, you are perfect,” Ned sighed, eyes drifting over my body, hands splayed over my thighs. I reached one hand up to gently trace his jaw, smiling when he turned his head and kissed my palm. 

“I am yours, Eddard,” I murmured. “Every last piece of me, to my very last breath, belongs to you.”

I circled my hips, making him moan quietly. Ned let me have complete control for a moment, then sat up, one arm wrapping around my waist, holding my body against his and kissing me. I draped my arms around his neck, rocking my hips more intently now, pleasure building in me once more. Ned pulled his head back to look down at me lovingly, his hand sliding up my body to my breast.

“I so look forward to seeing you round with my child,” Ned said gruffly. “To seeing my babe feed at your breast.” He pinched my nipple, emphasizing his words.

“Ned!” I squeaked.

“That is what you want, is it not? To carry part of me inside you? To nurture my child?” He slid his hand up my back, forcing me to arch up, and bent his head to kiss the breast not in his hand. 

“Yes, Ned, yes,” I quietly moaned. “Oh, I want so many babies with you.” Ned lifted his head and kissed me again, both hands on my back, pressing us together.

“My heart,” Ned said softly, resting his forehead against mine, “I shall fill you over and over. We shall have a pack of pups, and they shall trot after you wherever you go, a constant reminder to everyone that you are mine.”

“Ah, yes, yes, yessss!”

I rutted against him, desperately chasing release, then shuddered, my cunt convulsing around him. Ned kissed me tenderly as I rode out my high, hands trailing up and down my back. As soon as I slowed my hips, however, he broke the kiss and, grabbing my waist, flipped us. He drove into me, something feral glinting in his eyes as he watched me gasp under him. He bent down, his mouth on my breast once more. I arched up into him, fingers lacing in his hair.

“Ned, oh!” I moaned as he sucked on my nipple.

“Mine,” he growled against my skin, storm-cloud eyes flicking up to meet my gaze.

“Yours, yours,” I agreed breathily.

“Going to fill you.” He nipped at my breast, making me moan louder, my fingers slipping from his hair to scratch at his back.

“Please, Ned! Please fill me with your seed!”

“Fill her good, Ned!” Robert yelled. “Put a pup in that little fish!”

“I am trying, you shit!” Ned yelled back, then murmured to me, “Be a good girl and release again for me, and then I shall fill you.” He moved his mouth to my other nipple, bringing his hand up to palm the breast he’d covered in marks.

“Ned, ohhhh, fuck,” I groaned, my hips jerking.

“Mmmm,” Ned hummed in satisfaction, mouth firmly attached to me, as he spilled in my cunt again. I wrapped a leg around his waist, holding him in place, and ran my fingers through his hair. Ned rubbed his face against my breast, then settled on top of me with a pleased sigh. I kissed the top of his head and sent a silent prayer up that his seed would quicken in my womb soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, sweet sister, it sounded as though you had quite an enjoyable wedding night,” Brandon remarked with a grin as I sat down for breakfast the next morning.

“Yes indeed, dear brother.” I smiled sweetly at him. “In fact, I was hoping you could tell me what brothel you brought my husband to, so that I might send the whores my thanks.” Brandon had raised his goblet to his lips as I spoke and choked at my words, his coughing mingling with Lyanna’s giggles. 

“I hope you were as good a student,” I went on. “My relationship with Cat may be strained otherwise. I suppose she could always apply my findings, if you prove less well-educated than your brother. Perhaps you ought to compare notes with him before you wed.”

Benjen snorted into his goblet and Lyanna burst into laughter. Brandon frowned at her, then at me, although amusement danced in his eyes.

“What’s so funny?” Ned asked, entering the room. He sat next to me with a smile, kissing my cheek. 

“Your wife’s tongue is quite bold this morning,” Brandon answered. 

“Aly was inquiring about a brothel, for the purposes of paying a debt,” Lyanna said, grinning.

“What?” Ned gave me a shocked look.

“Be calm, dear husband.” I patted his arm. “I wish only to express my gratitude to the whore responsible for your education.”

“The whore, for my, what?!”

I elbowed Ned as his father and mother entered. Ned turned his head to see what I was looking at, quickly schooling his expression under the gaze of his parents. Both looked around the table slowly as they took their seats.

“I see we’re in high spirits this morning,” observed Rickard.

“Although you’re looking a bit distressed, Ned,” said Lyarra, a twinkle in her eye. “Did you get enough sleep?”

“Yes, Mother, plenty of sleep.” Ned didn’t look at her as he answered.

“Plenty of sleep on his wedding night?” asked Rickard, giving Lyarra an astonished look, then turning to Ned. “What a shame. Your mother and I are hoping for grandchildren soon, Eddard. You wouldn’t want to disappoint us, would you?”

“No, we wouldn’t, my lord,” I answered for Ned, who seemed to be wishing to turn to stone. “I am sure Eddard only meant he slept well, after all the excitement. I did rather tire him out.”

“Good lass.” Rickard gave me a nod of approval.

“Yes, based on what she said last night, Alyssandra is quite determined to get a child off Ned quickly,” Brandon said with a smirk. 

“Catelyn shall say much the same, dearest Brandon,” I replied calmly. “We are both eager to be mothers.”

Chapter Text

We remained at Riverrun a sennight. On the fifth day of our marriage, I took Ned out hunting, an offer he had cocked his head at for a second, then accepted with a smile. Ser Axel rode twenty feet or so behind us, until we neared a clearing I knew my quarry frequented. We dismounted and, with a warning to keep Moose between Meleys and the other two geldings, handed Ser Axel the horses.

“There he is,” I murmured as we came to the edge of the trees. “I have watched him for years, and had a very close eye on him for six moons.”

“Why did you not take him earlier?” Ned asked quietly, gazing at my prey in awe. 

“I wanted him larger, a better meal. A better prize,” I replied. “Shall you take another, my lord? Or shall we return with just the one?”

“Are you that confident in your abilities? You do not think we shall only have the chance at one?” 

“I think I could easily get two alone, but,” I shrugged, “’tis rather early in our marriage to surpass you so.”

“Two? You could not,” Ned insisted. I arched my brow; Ned narrowed his eyes, challenging me.

“Nock your bow, Eddard. Aim for the other end of the herd. Wait for me to loose before you do.”

I nocked my own bow and in one clean movement raised my arm, drew, and loosed my arrow. The massive white stag fell; before he had hit the ground, I had sent a second arrow towards the red stag next to him, as I heard Ned’s own arrow flying towards the other edge of the herd. I flicked my eyes over to see he had taken a lung shot—a good choice, although not my preferred one. The stag ran a few yards, then fell. The rest of the herd, spooked by his sudden movement, fled. I confidently walked towards my kills, setting my quiver and bow down next to the pale beast and placing my hand on his shoulder, silently thanking him and the Old Ones. 

“Neck shots?” Ned asked, following me. “You choose the neck?”

“I choose the base of the skull,” I corrected, snapping the shaft of the arrow, leaving the head in for the journey home to avoid staining the beautiful white pelt. “No wasted meat.” I looked up at him as I stood, amused to find his expression a mix of defensive and impressed. “Although the lungs are an excellent choice, darling.”

“Hm,” Ned grunted, tilting his head. “Your cousin does not hunt, does she?”

“No, Catelyn has no such taste for blood.” She has a thirst for it, to be sure, but not from any creature grazing or foraging in these forests. Only from those clad in silk and armor, who wield blade and balance and stand above the rest for it. 

“That is good. I do not think Brandon could withstand being outdone by his wife in such a manner.” Ned smiled at me, reaching out to fiddle with one of the small braids draped against my collarbone.

“You enjoy my bloodlust?” I asked, recognizing the soft heat in his gaze.

“I enjoy your talent,” Ned answered. “Although ’tis oddly attractive, aye, to know that you have such a hunger in you.”

He stepped closer and softly kissed my temple. I placed my hands on either side of his face and pressed a proper kiss to his lips, hot and loving. Ned’s hands slid down my back to knead at my flesh through the leather of my breeches as he returned my desire. After a moment, though, he leaned back again, breathing heavily.

“We ought to get your sword, not leave him waiting.” He did not sound like he agreed with himself.

“He can wait a bit longer,” I replied, slipping my hand into his breeches, smug to find him hard already. “After all, we have just ended life; what better way to repay that than with an effort to make more?”

“You make a very good point, my heart.”

Ned let me pull him to the ground, undoing the laces of my breeches and tugging them down to my knees. He quickly freed himself from his own, then grabbed the backs of my thighs and bent my legs towards my stomach, sliding into me with a quiet groan. My hands gripped his biceps, my lips parting with a soft gasp. Ned rocked firmly, smoothly, in synchronization with my panting, gazing down at me with lust and admiration equally.

The heat of killing had brought my nerves to the surface. My breathing quickly grew more shaky and, feeling a release just out of reach, I tried to shift my hips to better align him inside me, but Ned, eyes dark and possessive, pressed my legs down, holding me still. I teetered on the edge, my body wound tightly around him; he thrust more sharply once, twice, and on the third I felt him spill inside me with a low growl. As he sat back, I shifted again, my desire spoken to but still wanting. For a moment, I thought he would soothe it, hook one arm around my knees and bring me to release with his other hand, touch me as I had first directed him a moon previously. Instead, he slid out and, using his shoulders to keep me in my bent position, pulled my breeches back up and tied them, then nodded, fixed his own, and stood.

“You should be with child soon,” Ned said as he pulled me to my feet as well.

“If the gods will it,” I replied quietly, confused and hurt by his sudden lack of attention to my pleasure.

“ I will it,” Ned responded smugly.

“Hmm.” I turned to my second stag and snapped the shaft of that arrow as well, a lump of frustration settling in my throat. “This is not done by your will.”

“It is. You are my wife, and I shall have a pup in you by Brandon and Catelyn’s wedding, no matter how often I must fill you to do so.”

“Yes, fill me quite completely, lord husband. I know keeping your seed in my cunt is of utmost importance to you.” My tone carried a bite that I had not yet used with him, and Ned tilted his head, brow furrowing, as I turned away from him and began walking back towards Ser Axel and the horses. He was still a moment, then huffed and jogged after me.

“Why are you upset?” Ned asked. “You want children. You want my children. Unless you have been lying to me.”

“I shall be very happy to learn that I am carrying your babe,” I answered, keeping my eyes straight ahead.

“You do not sound happy.”

“At the moment, I am not.”

“I have offended you.” Ned stepped in front of me; I looked at the trees behind him, avoiding his gaze.

“No more than is your right.” I swallowed my disappointment, looking down briefly, then forced myself to look him in the eyes. “Please, forgive me, husband. It was improper of me to speak to you in such a manner.”

“I do not wish to forgive your manner when I do not know what prompted it.” Ned bent his head slightly, leaning closer and examining my expression. “Perhaps it is I who ought to be asking for forgiveness.”

“You have done nothing wrong.”

“That cannot be true.”

“You have behaved as any man may with his wife.” I brushed away the hand Ned had raised before it could touch my face, and stomped past him. “It would be insolent of me to expect anything more.”

“Any man? Any man?!” Ned spun around and quickly caught my elbow, pulling me back to him. “You said I wasn’t a man, I was Eddard.”

“Aye, when I was Aly, not your wife!” I snapped. “Now, you are my lord husband and I must submit to your will and desire and forget my own.” I tried to yank my arm free, but Ned tightened his grip, glaring at me.

“Oh, so we are simply husband and wife now?! Not chosen? We do not love one another?!”

“I cannot speak to your sentiment, Ned!” I tugged my arm again. “Let go of me. Or I shall call for Ser Axel.”

“You shall watch him die if you do,” Ned snarled. 

“How would you kill him? You are without your sword,” I reminded him haughtily. Ned clenched his jaw and leaned down, his other hand slipping under my hair to hold the back of my neck.

“Make no mistake, wife , a lack of sword shall not prevent me defending what is mine.” He bared his teeth, making my unsatisfied lust flare. “I shall prove myself worthy of the title of ‘heathen’ your septa gives me, and plunge my fangs into your precious knight’s throat.”

“He is not precious to me,” I spat.

“Nor am I, it would seem!” Ned jerked me closer, pressing us together again. “Why do you refuse to tell me what I have done?!”

“It is not of consequence!”

“We couple, and then immediately you are vexed! That is very much of—” Ned stopped suddenly, eyes widening. He swallowed, then released me. For a moment, all was still, our heavy breathing the only sound across the expanse of lush grass.

“Forgive me, Alyssandra.” Ned swallowed again. “Please.”

“There is nothing to forgive.” I wrapped my arms around myself, avoiding his gaze once more. “You simply exercised your rights as my husband. I should not have been sharp with you for doing so.”

“Aly, please.” He sounded regretful, but I didn’t care. It was done. He had acted as a husband, and I had been disrespectful and testy; it would not have been a shock if he had raised a hand to me. 

“It does not matter, Eddard. Better to be honest now, for the longer you had kept my expectations high, the harder it would have been when you let them fall.”

“My heart.” My eyes remained on the grass. “ My lady. I beg you to forgive me.”

And then he was gently tipping my chin up, my eyes forced to take in his sorrowful expression. My annoyance dissipated under his soft gaze, the warmth returning to my heart. We stared at one another for a moment, then Ned sighed and pulled me into an embrace.

“Why did you not simply tell me you had not reached the extent of your pleasure?” he asked softly.

“I thought you knew,” I mumbled into his chest. “I…I did not relax again.” I tilted my head back to look up at him. “I tried to adjust, to put you at a better angle, and, and, you stopped me! You held me still, and I, I thought…I thought…”

“You thought I did not care.” Ned slowly stroked my hair. “My dearest lady, I swear to you, there is not a single thing in this world that I care about more than your safety and happiness.” He bent and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Now, would you like for me to finish what I started?”

I nodded, and, with a grin, Ned settled back in the grass, pulling me down to straddle his lap. The laces of my breeches were tugged loose again, his hand slipping inside, fingers gliding through the mess he had left me with. I pressed my forehead to his shoulder, moaning quietly and clutching his doublet. Ned tilted his head and kissed my neck, the hand not in my breeches cradling the back of my head.

“There, that’s it,” he murmured as I rocked against him.

“Ned, Ned,” I breathed, turning my face towards his, looking up at him pleadingly.

“Shhh, I know. Almost there, hm?”

I nodded again, and he smiled softly. His fingers maintained their movements as he gently tipped my head back and kissed me, loving and consuming and apologetic. My body tightened again, toes curling in my boots, balancing on the edge once more. But this time, when I shifted, Ned allowed it, adjusting to me, and with another swipe of his fingers, my release broke free, pulsing through me, making me arch into him for a second before breaking our kiss and slumping against him with a sigh.

“You alright now?” Ned asked quietly after a moment, slipping his hand from between my legs and wiping it on the grass beside him.

“Mmm. I am.” I kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“There is nothing to thank me for.” Ned eased me off of him, then stood and again pulled me to my feet; he tied my breeches for me once more before cradling my face between his hands. “I do not wish for you to keep quiet with regards to your pleasure ever again. Am I clear, Alyssandra?”

“Yes, Eddard.”

“Good.” Ned kissed me softly. “Now, let us retrieve our horses and your knight and collect our kills.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“The white stag?!” Lucas exclaimed from across the courtyard upon our return, jogging towards us. “You finally got him, Aly?!”

“How do you know I did not take him down, wee trout?” Ned asked, dismounting from Moose.

“Pft, ’tis laughable to even suggest that my sister let you shoot him,” Lucas responded, crossing his arms. “She would never give up such a prize kill, not even for your blessed tongue and magic cock.”

“Lucas!” I exclaimed as I slid from Meleys’ saddle, mouth open in disbelief. A smirk slowly appeared on Ned’s face as he turned to me.

“ You said it!” Lucas accused me.

“I did not !” I shot back, then turned to Ned. “I did not say that.”

“Maybe not those exact words,” Lucas sighed, “but I heard you and Catelyn talking about them last night, after supper. The language was quite colorful.” He looked at Ned. “Actually, I wished to ask you about something.”

“Shut up, Lucas!” I growled.

“She said that you bite a spot on her neck and it makes her go limp, and I would quite like to know where that spot is, because I’ve never won a fight against her.”

“And you never shall, you wretched little clod!” I had my arm around his neck before he could realize I had moved. “I hope you never find a wife, for you do not deserve to know a woman as a husband does!” Lucas grabbed at my arm and squirmed, trying to free himself. Ned tilted his head, an amused glint in his eye.

“Soon I shall be too big for you to fight,” Lucas gasped.

“Unless you plan on getting significantly quicker on your feet and grotesquely more clever, I shall always be able to fight you, and win. Now yield.”

“You’re being a bitch, you know!”

“Oh please, as if you’re the first red-faced boy to tell me that.” I squeezed my arm tighter. “Yield, idiot, before you pass out.”

“Ugghhh, fine! I yield!”

I released him, pushing him away from me. Lucas coughed a few times, glaring at me, before marching away with a dramatic huff. Ned watched him for a second, then turned his attention back to me, still looking amused.

“What?” I asked, pulling Meleys’ reins over her head and beginning to lead her to the stables.

“You two remind me of Lya and Ben,” Ned answered, walking beside me with Moose. “I suppose it is in the nature of older sisters to put younger brothers in their place.”

“Does that mean, with you being the second son, I ought to put you in your place?”

“If you feel I need it.” Ned grinned, and I laughed, leaning over to bump my shoulder against his side.

“Oh, I do rather love you, Eddard Stark,” I said with a contented sigh.

“Mmm, and I love you, Alyssandra Tully.”

Ser Axel followed us to the stables, handing off Frog, with his load of stags, to a stableboy. Ned and I quietly untacked our horses and returned them to their pasture. Meleys glared at Eel over the fence, pinning her ears when the other mare wandered closer. Eel ignored her and walked up to Moose, stretching her neck out to sniff him; Meleys darted between them with a squeal and snap of her teeth.

“Do you plan to greet any woman who speaks to me now in a similar manner?” Ned asked fondly, shaking his head at my mare, standing furiously between her beloved gelding and this threat.

“Speak to whatever women you like, Eddard.” I shrugged. “I do not mind.” I placed my hand at his elbow and smiled softly up at him. “I trust my husband.”

The stags had been unloaded and waited for us on the far side of the courtyard. Ned watched as I quietly prayed over them, touching them in turn and thanking them for what they would give us. Once I had done all three, I nodded to him, and he hauled the white stag up onto a table for me. Silently, I began to dress my kill.

“I heard you got your long-awaited prize,” Uncle Brynden commented as he approached us from the Keep some minutes later. I nodded at him, smiling and dropping my hands from my work, so that he might gaze upon the animal. He silently examined him for a moment, then gave me a nod of approval.

“Well done, lassie.” Brynden placed a hand on my shoulder. “Brandon and Catelyn ought to keep you at Winterfell to train their children with bow and arrow.”

“We should?”

Brandon came strolling over, his eyes quickly taking in our kills, brows raising. He glanced at Ned, who blinked at him in a manner that suggested he knew exactly what his brother was thinking, and wished for him to spit it out. Brandon rolled his eyes and returned his focus to me, crossing his arms and appraising the way I handled my knife. Brynden leaned against the table beside me, also watching me work.

“Do you have a comment, brother?” I asked after a moment.

“Mm, I am wary of making any comment while you are holding a blade,” Brandon replied, a hint of teasing in his tone.

“You are good to be cautious. But do not fear, I would not break my cousin’s heart by gelding you before she’s gotten her pups out of you.” I stuck the knife in the wood then turned towards him, grinning and leaning back against the table. “Give her four or five, and then worry about upsetting me, hm?”

“I wager that shall be but half the number you whelp.” Brandon grinned at Ned, making him sigh heavily. “Oh, stop that! If you did not wish for us all to know of your desire to fill her with as many pups as she can bear, you should have been more subtle about taking her! We have all heard you!”

“Sounds I sincerely wish to wash from my memory,” Brynden muttered.

“Oh, but uncle, think! Soon you shall have more children to spoil, to teach to fish and wield a sword and mend a bridle.” I smiled at him. “’Tis a wonder you never had any children of your own, you were always so good with us.”

“Ah, marriage, dear fox,” Brynden responded. “Remember the origin of my nickname?”

“Pft,” I waved a hand, “still, a bastard or two; surely there were women interested in the gallant Ser Brynden of Riverrun?”

“Aye, many, but I was not interested in any of them.” Brynden shook his head, gazing off, clearly thinking of his youth. I turned back to Brandon, who was examining my stag more closely.

“A rare beauty, this one,” he murmured. “You tracked him long?”

“Aye. I claimed him, a king who would mine, as soon as I noticed him begin to change.” Brandon gave me a curious look. “He was not born white,” I explained. “I have watched him lighten these last few years.”

“A false king, then,” Ned commented.

“No more false than any man who has had to grow into his position,” I answered with a shrug. “And his pelt shall be no less beautiful upon our bed for having come to him through survival rather than being bestowed at birth.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days after our hunt, we all rode north, following the path the raven carrying Catelyn’s request had taken three moons prior. Lysa and Bellena accompanied us, our fathers having decided that Bellena had made too many young Riverlanders cry and thus ought to be foisted upon the seemingly sturdier Northern men, and then adding Lysa so as to avoid her moping about Riverrun, hurt at being left behind by the other three of us. The journey was relatively easy, although there was a distinct chill that made me wonder if we had all been hasty in our celebrations of spring. I wondered, too, at the shift in Lysa’s attitude since Harrenhal; she had never been a girl one would describe as calm, but she seemed anxious now, instead of excitable. Perhaps she had been more attached to the idea of being Lady of Casterly Rock than we had thought.

We arrived at Winterfell less than a fortnight after leaving Riverrun, riding into the courtyard to a greeting of all the household. Catelyn stood with Brandon beside Rickard and Lyarra, while Bellena and Lysa waited on either side of Lyanna, just behind me and Ned. Catelyn was not a Stark yet, but she had served as Lady of Riverrun for many years, and was to be Lady of Winterfell in the future; she outranked me, and thus was entitled to being introduced before me. After properly introducing her, Rickard turned to me, waving us forward. I smiled at the various retainers, determined to be just as charming as Catelyn. Maester Luwin, a friendly-seeming man at the end of the line, examined me for a second, then turned to Rickard, sighing. Rickard crossed his arms and raised his brow.

“You do recall how large your sons were at birth, my lord?” Luwin asked.

“Aye.”

“And you let one of them marry a wee lass like that?” He gestured towards me. Rickard just blinked at him, and he sighed again, turning back to me. “Well, at least you have good hips for it. I shall start brushing up on my knowledge of child-bearing now; I know Tullys are a fertile sort, and I can tell from just a glance that you’ve got Ned quite ensnared. I would wager Winterfell shall be filled with a babe’s cries within a year.”

“We certainly hope so, maester,” I replied with a smile, Ned blushing beside me.

Introductions complete, and a warning given to Hullen, the Master of Horse, about Meleys (luckily, she seemed tolerant of him), we all were led to our respective quarters. Lyanna took Lysa and Bellena to the guesthouse, while Catelyn and I were brought to the Great Keep by Ned and Brandon. We traipsed up the winding stairs, stopping after a turn and a half and entering a corridor with two doors, side by side, right in the middle.

“Your chambers, ladies,” Brandon said, sweeping his arm out towards the doors. “The warmest ones in the keep, so that your southern bones shan’t freeze. We are only half a turn above you.”

“That is good. A short trip for me in the mornings, in my dressing gown.” I smiled at Ned.

“You shall not wander about undressed,” he replied, frowning and taking my hand. “Absolutely not.”

“Well then, I suppose I must stay in my own chambers.” I cocked my head. “In my own bed.”

“Aye, that is where you ought to be. I shall come to you.” He bent and kissed my temple, the soft display of affection making my heart sing.

“Would you not be too warm?” I asked as he straightened, aware but uncaring of Brandon and Catelyn’s silent watching.

“I shall suffer it for you.”

“Would it not be easier for me to wrap myself up, to not suffer the chill of your chambers?”

“The knowledge of you walking back down, so undressed, would be a far greater suffering than the warmth.”

“One of us shall certainly suffer,” Catelyn muttered to Brandon. “For they shall not be apart.”

“I shall not be bothered by the acoustics of their amorous performances, but should they decide upon her chambers as their stage, you could always seek the refuge of my bed, my lady,” Brandon teased, as Ned wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me into him.

“I told you, I shall not be with child at our wedding,” Catelyn said to Brandon, narrowing her eyes. “Aly may be, but not I.”

“There is plenty we could do that would not result in a child,” Brandon replied, grinning. Catelyn pursed her lips, slowly looking him over, then sighed.

 “I am going to unpack a few things, and then I expect a full, detailed, respectful tour of the entirety of Winterfell, my lord. Understood?”

“Right, yes, my lady.” Brandon ducked his head, chastised, and Catelyn spun away and into her chambers, closing the door firmly behind her. I shared a look with Ned, both of us holding back our amusement. Brandon sighed, leaning against the wall.

“Your cousin is truly something, little fox,” he said, with a faint smile. “I had not thought I would so eagerly await my wedding day, but now…” He shook his head, sighing again.

“Alright, Jonquil, do not swoon on us.” Ned rolled his eyes, then looked down at me. “Do you also wish for a detailed tour, dear wife?”

“Welllll…” I leaned against him, my hands on his chest. “I had a particular sort of tour in mind, darling.” I stood on tiptoe, one hand coming to the back of his neck to pull him down, allowing me to whisper in his ear, “I was hoping your cock might give me a tour of every surface you can fuck me on, lord husband.” Ned flushed and cleared his throat, pulling back from me; Brandon smirked behind him, no doubt having a very good idea of what I had requested.

“Right, um…”

“Why don’t you take me to your chambers, Eddard, so that we might spare Catelyn? Then, once you have satiated my desire, you can bring me to the stables so that I may speak with your Master of Horse on how Meleys is to be handled.”

“Yes, right. Brilliant plan.” Ned grabbed my hand and pulled me back out to the stairs, Brandon watching us leave with an amused expression. 

Another half-turn up, into another corridor, the mirror of the one we had just come from, and through a door into an antechamber bathed in firelight. Ned locked the door behind us as I looked around, unpinning my cloak. The space was decorated minimally, giving away little, but felt welcoming; rather like my new husband.

“I am sure you would rather have fresh flowers in vases and painted ones on the walls,” Ned commented as he took my cloak from me, hanging it beside his own on the wall by the door.

“I shall make my chambers my own,” I replied. “These are yours, they ought to reflect you.”

“Mmm.” He wrapped his arms around me, looking down at me lovingly. “You shall be within them often. If you wish, you may add your touch here.”

“The only thing that needs my touch right now is you.” I smirked, my hands moving up his chest to clasp behind his neck. “Give me a proper welcome to your home, Eddard.”

“Our home,” he corrected, pulling me towards his bedchamber.

I didn’t bother responding, instead tugging at buttons, suddenly ravenous for his skin, desperately needing it under my palms and lips. Ned yanked at the laces of my vest, pulling it off and dropping it to the floor, his outer garments quickly joining it, followed by my shirt. He nudged me back towards his bed.

“Sit,” he said softly. When I had, he knelt, carefully taking my calf in his hands and lifting my leg, gently slipping off my boot, then my stocking. I laced my fingers in his hair, smiling. He delicately kissed my ankle, then set my foot down and repeated his actions on the other leg. Once he’d set my second foot down, he reached for the ties of my breeches, quickly loosening them; I shifted my hips so he could pull them down, leaving me in only the silk I wrapped around my breasts when riding. Ned watched as I unpinned and unwound the strip, letting it fall to the floor.

“You are so beautiful ,” he whispered.

“Mm.” I bent down, cradling his face in my hands, resting my forehead against his. “Show me, Eddard. Show me how beautiful you think I am.”

“I do not think it is possible for me to complete such a task.” His hands slowly brushed up and down my calves. “You are beyond my ability to express, even through the most ardent of lovemaking.”

“Try.”

I released his face and laid back, spreading my legs. Ned kissed up one thigh, then the other, before grabbing them and bending my legs up so my feet rested on his back as he leaned in. I sighed, closing my eyes and reaching down to place my hands over the larger ones that now firmly held my thighs. Ned moved slowly, gently, the reverence in his heart clear in every delicate flick of his tongue and soft press of his lips. Like a glass-smith placing the details of The Mother’s face in a window of a sept, he venerated me to tender release, a soft moan of his name leaving me as I gripped his wrists. As soon as I eased my hold, he shifted, kisses placed over my hipbones, then between them. Ned looked up at me, his hands splayed over my stomach.

“I yearn to witness you grow round with my pup,” he murmured, love glazing his eyes.

“If that is what you desire, dear, sweet husband, you must do more, for although I am quite pleased by your efforts to convey the beauty you find in me, such actions shall not put a babe in my womb.”

“Mmm, no, you are right.” Ned grinned and stood, gesturing for me to rearrange myself, my head on the pillows. “But I am by no means done with you.”

He quickly shed his remaining garments, then settled between my legs once more, smoothly pressing into me, my legs wrapping around his waist. He paused for a moment, gazing down at me with a love so open and deep that I could not think of anything but giving him all that he asked for. There is nothing I would not do for him. I would burn men alive for him, would peel the skin from their bodies, would rip their teeth out one by one.

Ned lovingly kissed me as he slowly began to roll his hips, holding himself up with one hand, the other gliding from my hip to my breast, thumb circling my nipple. After a moment, he pulled away from my lips, bending to lavish my other breast, a worship of tongue and teeth that had me arching off the bed and clutching at his shoulders, gasping.

“Gods, oh!” Ned flicked his eyes up to mine as he switched sides, taking my nipple in his mouth. “I love you.” My fingers in his hair, stroking the feral thing glimmering in the storm clouds. “I love you, I love you, I, oh gods,” his fingers just above where we were joined, caressing throbbing nerves, “love you.”

Ned released my nipple and leaned up, kissing me again, hot and full and devout. A second release, offered up with the prayer of him within me, washed over me. I moaned around his tongue, digging my nails into his back. He waited until I softened under him, then shifted, both hands sliding under my shoulder blades, his chest pressing against mine. Face in my neck, hips now moving more urgently, Ned’s entire body radiated adoration.

“Aly, my heart.” A supplication, whimpered into his goddess’s skin. “Aly, Aly, Aly.” I cradled the back of his head and turned my face to kiss his temple, anointing him.

“Release for me, darling,” I breathed. “Give me your son, that I might then give our love to the world.”

Ned groaned, low and almost pained, as he spilled inside me. I gently rubbed his back, enjoying the weight of him on top of me as he rested his head on my chest. The quiet of the room hummed with a devotion that could not be put into words. If not for the matter of my horse, we would have laid there until supper.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After insisting that I could not leave Meleys to her own devices, and promising to allow him as much time as he liked with my hair that evening, Ned begrudgingly rolled off of me. We redressed and soon were in the stables, speaking to Hullen, Winterfell’s Master of Horse. He nodded along quietly as I explained my mare’s violent tendencies, and how I wished for her to be handled.

“Should I find out that a hand has been raised to her, I shall have said hand,” I told him. “I have put great effort into training her, and so long as my instructions are followed, she should not cause any problems.”

“Understood, my lady. I shall personally take charge of her for the time being.” Hullen turned to Meleys, who was watching us from her new stall. “Shall we venture outside, little queen?”

I watched as he put her halter on and took her out, quietly telling her that they would collect her beloved Moose on their way. She was not affectionate with him like she was Ned, but she did certainly trust him. I felt a bit of anxiety slip away, knowing she would be happy here, and turned to Ned, taking his elbow.

“I have something for you,” he told me as we followed our horses.

“You do? What is it?”

“Just a moment, my heart.” Ned smiled at the frown I gave him, directing me towards a pasture full of youngstock, all seemingly having just been turned out, for they were running and playing, rearing and nipping at one another.

“Choose any one you like, as a wedding present from my father.”

“Really?” My face turned to his, excitement clear. “Any of them?”

“Whichever one you like best shall be yours,” Ned confirmed.

I watched the young horses, considering their movement and where they all seemed to rank within the herd. After a few silent minutes of examination and deliberation, I made my choice.

“The little dappled gray.”

“Ah, Cloud’s filly.” Ned raised his brows. “She’s a spirited mare, my father’s favorite. Lyanna’s mount is one of hers. I shall tell Hullen the filly now belongs to you.” He kissed my cheek and went to speak to Hullen, who was walking back from releasing Meleys and Moose. As I waited for him to return, the filly in question came trotting up to me. She eagerly poked her nose through the fence, nibbling at my coat.

“Well met, little lady,” I said, smiling. “You are quite the beauty. We shall have a grand time together.”

The remainder of the afternoon passed easily; Ned showed me around Winterfell, pulling me into various alcoves and corners to steal a kiss (or several). We ended in the godswood, a long, quiet walk through sacred ground that led us to the heart tree, with its icy ponds. I gazed up at the weirwood, its melancholy face comforting. I placed my hand against its ancient trunk; after a moment, Ned placed his beside it.

“If they do not grant our prayer before Brandon and Catelyn are wed, I shall have you here. Speak directly to them,” Ned told me as we turned from the gloomy visage.

“I do not think it shall come to that,” I replied, watching the ponds lazily ripple with the faint breeze. “Tullys as a rule do not take long to conceive, nor did any of my mother’s siblings. But,” I looked up at him fondly, “I am warmed by your dedication.”

“Mm.” Ned bent and lightly kissed my forehead. “You are perfect, and thus such dedication is easy.”

We walked back towards the Great Hall in contented silence. As we crossed a courtyard, one of the men called for Ned, who gave me a quick kiss on the temple before crossing to address whatever matter had arisen. I looked around, not really for anything but simply looking, and saw Rickard emerging from the kennels. He met my gaze and approached, giving me a nod as he did.

“Good afternoon, Alyssandra. I trust my son has settled you in?”

“Aye, he has been very attentive. You raised an exceptional husband.” Rickard dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Thank you for the horse, Father.” I smiled at him. “A generous gift.”

“You are welcome.” He returned the smile. “Which did you choose?”

“Cloud’s filly. I was told she is your favorite.”

“Aye, she is.” He leaned back against a pillar. “What have you named her?”

“Meraxes.”

“Hm. You are fond of the dragons?”

“I appreciate power.”

Rickard tilted his head, studying me. Before either of us could speak further, Ned joined us, greeting his father and offering me his elbow once more. Rickard returned the greeting, then, with one more curious glance at me, pushed off the pillar, and we set off towards the Great Hall and supper.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Our lives quickly fell into a routine. Mornings, after quietly coupling, breaking our fast, and visiting the godswood together, were spent apart—Ned with his brother and father, me with his mother and Catelyn, and usually Lyanna. Afternoons were spent entirely together, riding and hunting—Ned introduced me to his peregrine, Aspen—and addressing the tasks Rickard and Lyarra deemed fit for the spare. We all had supper together in the Great Hall every evening, followed by another trip to the godswood, this time with all the other young folk and with much more meandering. Catelyn and Lysa always seemed slightly on edge, eyes darting between the trees as though they expected them to suddenly awaken and close in on us. Always, Ser Axel or Ser Elmo followed me, right beside Catelyn’s Ser Kermit Bracken or Ser Tristifer Mallister.

A fortnight passed in this way, before I awoke one morning to find Ned gone. There was a small note on his pillow that read ‘with B & F, wildling report,’ so I sighed and got out of bed, going directly over to Catelyn’s chambers to help each other dress and do our hair. As we ate, a maid arrived to inform us that Lyarra was going to Breakstone to visit her cousins, and thus we would be left to our own devices for a few days. Catelyn decided that this was an excellent opportunity to review marriage prospects for Lysa and Bellena, something that did not require my assistance. Thus, after visiting the heart tree alone, (excepting Ser Axel, of course), I went to the library, desiring to expand my knowledge of Northern plants. I had just finished the first book I had found and was returning it to its shelf when I heard a quiet ‘my lord’ from Ser Axel, near the door, and then a familiar soft but firm step.

“There you are.” Ned smiled at me as he came around the shelf, closing the space between us quickly. “I have been looking for you, my heart.”

“What for?” I asked, tilting my head to accept his kiss upon my cheek as he moved behind me.

“We did not attempt to create a child this morning,” he answered, wrapping his arms around me and pressing his face into my neck.

“Mmm, and with whom does the fault for this error lie?”

“I did not choose to leave your bed so early,” Ned grumbled. “My father demanded it.”

“You could have had me before you left,” I told him, reaching up to gently stroke his hair. “Brought me pleasure, then allowed me to return to slumber with your claim held lovingly between my legs.” Ned growled quietly, tightening his hold on me. “Oh, do not give me that! If you are so put out, then why do you not remedy the situation, my joy?”

“You are a minx.” Ned nipped lightly at my neck. “I shall fill you twice this time.”

“Oh really? Because as lovely as it is to be held by you, I do not—” I gasped as he pressed himself against me, his cock hard at my back.

“What was that, little fox?” Ned’s hands drifted up to cup my breasts. “Were you about to express doubt in my virility?”

“Give me your cock,” I breathed, leaning back into him. “Now, Ned. I need it.”

Ned spun me around and pressed me against the shelf, pulling my leg up to his hip with one hand, the other slipping under my skirts and between my legs. He smirked at finding me quite ready for him, but before he could comment, I was freeing his cock from his breeches and leaning up to kiss him. Ned kissed me back urgently, removing his hand from me to push my skirts out of his way. The stretch of him pressing into me made my hips twitch, the delightful fullness lighting up my entire body, my arms wrapping around his shoulders. Ned nuzzled at my hair, draped over my collarbone, his hand gliding under my skirts once more to rub at the nerves he now knew so well.

“Oh, gods,” I moaned, my head falling back against the books. Ned kissed the throat I’d bared for him, his fingers digging into my thigh. “Yes, Ned, oh!”

“Aly,” he growled. “Perfect wife, so—”

“Ned!”

Lyanna’s yelp froze us. I slowly turned my head to look at her, smiling awkwardly, while Ned kept his face hidden in my neck. Lyanna stood twenty feet away, mouth open in shock, clutching a book to her chest.

“Good morning, sister,” I said as calmly as I could. “What brings you to the library today?”

“Certainly not what brought you,” Lyanna retorted. 

“To be fair, I came here for volumes on native plants of the North,” I replied. “Your brother sought me out for the activity you find us currently engaged in.”

“Like a beast in rut,” she scoffed. Ned’s head snapped up, eyes finding hers.

“If I am a beast, you ought to run. Most wild things do not take kindly to being interrupted when with their mate.”

Lyanna narrowed her eyes, but spun around without another word, shaking her head as she hurried away. Ned sighed, then looked at me, an apology already forming on his lips. I tugged him down into another kiss, grinding against him. Ned grunted, then resumed the thrusting of his hips and stroking of his fingers, quickly bringing me to release, and following me by a breath. He gently lowered my leg again before tucking himself back into his breeches. I took several deep breaths before looking up at him with a smirk.

“I thought you said I would be filled twice, Eddard.”

“Aye, you shall,” he answered, one arm snaking around me and pulling me flush against him; his other hand softly stroked my hair. “But I would like to have you in my chambers for the second round. I do not wish for another interruption.”

“Mm, alright.”

An hour later, Ned’s claim satisfied, we laid in his bed in silence, and I could not help but wish that our life would always be like this. His brothers and my cousin always here with us, our children all running about together, perhaps with Bellena’s children as well. Robert and Lyanna visiting often, their own children in tow. Happy and warm and together.

Two turns above where I lay, a missive was opened, and although I could not know it, all the bliss I imagined began to crumble as it was read.

Chapter Text

“Robert has a child, in the Vale.”

Catelyn and I both turned to Lyanna, surprised. Bellena and Lysa looked up from the settee by the window, equally taken aback. We were all sitting in the study across from Catelyn’s and my chambers, reviewing plans for planting season. (Although by now it was clear that the spring had been a false one, Catelyn wanted to be prepared.) Lyanna sighed, looking down at her hands, then turned her face to us.

“I had heard whispers, and so I asked Ned. He’s too good a brother, too good a man, to lie to me. He’s held the babe—a strong little girl, with Robert’s eyes.” She sighed again. “He shall continue after we are wed. There shall be a barrage of children with my husband’s eyes or jaw or nose, and I shall be forced to be polite about them, be polite to their mothers, because I shall be a Lady Paramount, and we do not get to be angry, not in that ugly way.”

“Lyanna.” Catelyn placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Do not worry, Catelyn.” Lyanna smiled tightly at her. “Brandon has been careful; although he is quite well-liked, he has not bedded nearly as many girls as Robert. And he is committed to being a good lord, more so than his own pleasures. So you shall have no reason to tamp down your ugly anger.” She glanced at me. “And Ned is incapable of being sullied by his friend and our brother. I doubt he so much as touched a girl’s leg before you.”

“True,” I tipped my head in agreement, “but he is a quick learner.”

“Aye, we are all painfully aware of his skills,” Bellena said, rolling her eyes.

“Oh shush!” I shook my head at her with a small smile, then looked back at Lyanna across the table. “You could wed another, Lya.”

“Who?” She sighed once more, leaning back. “My father shall not consent to any marriage that does not bring him greater influence, so I can wed neither a Northerner nor a Riverlander.”

“Mace Tyrell is already wed, and he does not have any male cousins old enough,” Catelyn mused. “A Hightower, perhaps? I know you do not follow the Seven, but the alliance of Oldtown and Winterfell would be quite a show of strength.” Lyanna wrinkled her nose, and Catelyn tilted her head, thinking.

“What about one of the Leffords?” Bellena suggested. “To secure a Westerlands alliance? And then you would still be close to Riverrun, to family.”

“Lord Leo is eight and twenty!” Lysa replied, giving her a disbelieving look. “And his brother is but three and ten!”

“Eight and twenty is not that old,” Bellena said with a shrug. 

“Too old for me,” Lysa muttered.

“Oberyn,” I said after a moment, looking up at Lyanna with a smile. “You could wed Oberyn Martell.”

“The Dornish prince?” Lyanna cocked her head.

“Aye. He too has a bastard daughter, two, actually, but he would allow you your freedom with such things as well. He would be kind to you, allow you to ride and shoot, and teach you about poisons.” I shrugged. “Perhaps it would be a touch awkward initially, given what occurred between him, myself, and Eddard at Harrenhal, but I believe we would all move beyond it.”

“What occurred at Harrenhal?” Lyanna asked, frowning slightly. “Do not tell me my brother quarreled with your dear friend.”

“No, no, they parted on happy terms.” I smirked. “Quite happy.”

“Aly…” Catelyn narrowed her eyes at me. “What did you do with the prince?”

“Eddard put me on display for him and let him take a taste of me, then Eddard received our attention together, and finally the two of them shared me.”

“Aly!” Catelyn gasped, the other three staring at me wide-eyed in astonishment. “They shared you?!”

“What do you mean, he took a taste?” Lysa asked before I could respond to Catelyn.

“Oh, they kiss between your legs, that’s not important,” Catelyn answered, waving her hand at her. “Alyssandra, how did they share you? Please tell me I shall not have to lie about a bastard.”

“Oh please!” I rolled my eyes. “Ned was very adamant that our wedding night be the first time his sex sank into mine; do you think he would have allowed another to enjoy such an act before him? Or, going forward, do you think he would ever allow any seed besides his own to be spilled within my sex?”

“No, I suppose he does have that possessive streak.” Catelyn sighed. “Anyway—”

“Wait, I would like to know more about the kissing between the legs,” Lyanna interrupted, looking quite confused. “I thought that was some sort of…perversion.”

“Well then I suppose you come from a family of utter perverts,” I informed her. “For your elder brothers are both certainly talented at the act, and from conversing with your mother, I understand your father is rather gifted as well.”

“Eww! That is—why would you tell me that about my parents?!” Lyanna frowned at me.

“You asked,” I replied, shrugging. “If it helps your decision with regards to a husband, I was quite pleased with Oberyn’s skills. And if you have any desire to experience more than one man at once…”

“Yes, that is also confusing! How did they share you?” Lyanna demanded, leaning forward. I glanced at Catelyn, unsure if she would attempt to quiet me, but she simply sighed and dipped her head, indicating that I ought to go ahead and tell the story, since I had already gone this far. My sisters and cousins listened in delighted shock as I described the rendezvous with Oberyn, a multitude of questions falling from their lips, the documents and maps forgotten for the afternoon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later, I stood outside Lysa’s chambers, fortifying myself for the conversation that was to come. I had not told Catelyn, for she was already so busy, nor had I told Ned, for although I deeply loved my husband, there was an intimacy to this that did not yet extend to him. I took a deep breath and knocked, my cousin’s voice telling me to enter a moment later.

“Lysa, I have something to discuss with you,” I said as I closed the door behind me. She tilted her head, confused, but followed me to the pair of seats in front of the fire. I gazed at her for a second, wondering how she had thought this would end. She shifted nervously, fiddling with her sleeve.

“Lysa, I shall simply ask the question—are you with child?” I kept my voice as gentle as I could.

“What? Why would you say such a thing?” She blinked rapidly, mouth open in shock. “Such an accusation, from you of all people!”

“Please, dove, I do not ask this without cause.” I leaned over the small table and placed my hand on her arm. “You have been acting odd ever since Harrenhal, and so I asked Maisie to speak to the maids. I know your linens have been clean, dove.” Lysa ducked her head with a sniffle. “Do not worry, I shall not tell Cat. We shall come up with a reason to send you back to Riverrun, and then your father or our uncle may claim the child as their bastard.”

“What?” Lysa’s head snapped back up. “No, I wish to keep the child! He is mine!”

“Lysa…”

“Father shall have to let me wed Petyr now! I shall wed him and birth his son and we shall be happy!”

“Oh Lysa.” I took her hands in mine, squeezing them, trying to hold her to the ground. “You know your father shall not consent to such a thing.”

“He shall! I shall make him!” There was a wild look in her eyes, and I knew this was a battle I was not going to win. I sighed and gave her a sympathetic look.

“Alright. What you ask of your father is not for me to determine. But you shall return to Riverrun as soon as possible.”

Lysa nodded, and two days later, excuses made and a raven sent, she rode back south. When next I saw her, she would be a broken, fearful version of the girl I watched ride away from Winterfell’s gates, and I would have reason to never fully trust my uncle again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Less than a fortnight later, Lyanna disappeared. Her guard, bruised and muddied and missing his sword, informed us that Rhaegar had absconded with her. That night, for the first time since our wedding, Ned and I did not couple. I fell asleep on his chest, our worries not yet solid enough to be spoken.

I did not tell him of the small stack of letters I snuck from Lyanna’s chambers, nor of the note left on my dressing table, now tucked with the letters in a secret drawer of a jewelry box. Lyanna had trusted me, and that trust existed outside the vows of my marriage.

Brandon, having been on his way south to meet Hoster’s party coming to Winterfell for the wedding, diverted his group and rode hard for the capitol. He arrived in record time, only ten days after hearing of the incident. And when he did, he made sure everyone would remember that arrival.

“The Others take that boy,” Rickard growled, throwing the missive from King’s Landing down on the council table and swinging around to Ned. “Eddard, your brother has been a gods damned fool, and now I must go rescue him. I need you to be fucking sensible while I’m gone, do you understand me?” He placed his hands on Ned’s shoulders, looking intensely into his eyes. 

“Of course, I shall do my best, Father,” Ned answered, eyes darting to me for reassurance, given in the form of a small nod.

“Thank the gods you two are already wed,” Rickard sighed, glancing at me. “Hoster would be well within his rights to break the betrothal when he hears of this.”

“What has Brandon done?”

“Apparently he marched up to the Red Keep and told Rhaegar to ‘come out and die.’”

“Oh.” Ned swallowed. “That is…well, not what I would have said.”

“Aye, I should have ordered Brandon to come home, and sent you to King’s Landing, but what’s done is done.” Rickard released Ned and turned away, sighing. “Aerys demands my presence, along with the fathers of Brandon’s companions. I shall attempt to apologize for his behavior, and should that fail, I shall request a trial by combat.”

“Father, Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur—”

“Are exceptionally good swordsmen, aye. And their king has imprisoned my son for what? Being upset that his sister has been secreted away in the darkness?” Rickard leaned against the table, crossing his arms. “I will admit that he did not express himself well, but Brandon did not commit any actual crime. He is guilty only of having strong emotions and no one to counsel him.”

“He ought to know better,” Ned muttered, shaking his head. “A High Lord ought to maintain control.” 

“He has you for that,” Rickard replied.

“So I am to be his keeper all my days?” Ned’s eyes flashed with an unfamiliar frustration. “My one purpose is to ensure Brandon does not destroy himself, does not destroy The North?” I shifted in my chair, wishing I could leave, knowing it would be more awkward if I did so now.

“Your purpose is to counsel restraint when needed.”

“Why can he not learn to restrain himself without me?! Why must I be tethered so tightly to him?!”

“Because you are his brother!” Rickard snapped. “I have done this alone, Eddard! Your mother and I had more children so our heir would not have to bear all the weight as I have! Our family has a duty to protect The North, to provide for our people!”

“You and Mother have done that duty well together! Why can Brandon not rely on Catelyn?!”

“Catelyn is not a Northerner! I have faith that she shall come to be a good Lady of Winterfell, but she does not know our ways, our needs! Brandon needs you, someone who understands our people.” Rickard sighed and shook his head. “I am sorry, Eddard, to ask more of you. You have always been the most reliable and the easiest for me to understand. I wish I could reward you with something more than a place in your brother’s shadow.”

“I do not want more. I want only to be allowed to enjoy my own life.”

“I cannot give you that.”

Rickard and Ned held each other’s gaze a breath longer, then both nodded, a silent transfer of power passing between them, a transfer that would ripple out into something much bigger than any of us could have foreseen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another raven.

Ned and I were reading in his chambers when it arrived. He thanked the lad who had brought it, closed the door, and turned back towards me as he opened the seal. A gasp made me flick my eyes up to him; horror and rage sat plainly on his normally stoic face, enough so that I stood, alarmed.

“Eddard?” I closed the space between us, reaching up to brush my fingers over his cheek. “Eddard, what has happened?”

“They’re dead. My father and brother. Aerys killed them.” Ned handed me the missive. “Fire, Aly. He named fire his champion.”

Bile rose in my throat as I read what had befallen my good-brother and father. Ned slumped into a chair by the fireplace, rubbing his temple. I placed the rolled up parchment with its falcon in blue wax on the desk and crossed the room to kneel in front of him, my hands on his thighs. Ned met my eyes, tears brimming in his own. 

“You are Lord Paramount of The Wolfswood now,” I said matter-of-factly.

“Aye.” Ned cupped my cheek. “Aly, I do not know what to do. Brandon always knew what to do, could always think on his feet. I cannot fill his space.”

“No. But you have me.” I leaned into his hand. “I shall be with you, every step. You shall never be alone, Eddard.” We sat in silence for several minutes before I quietly said, “I shall tell Cat.”

“Right.” Ned nodded. “I shall tell my mother.” He looked distant, the weight of Lord Paramount already settled upon him. My heart ached for my quiet, gentle husband, now forced to be much more. It had not been intended for him to carry such a load. I had wished to use his position as the second son to move more freely, my ambition gathering power in the shadows. Greater cunning would be required, now, to play the game successfully.

Ned tilted his head, quietly considering me, then patted his thigh. I moved from my knees to his lap, hands running up his arms. Ned closed his eyes, sinking back into the chair, his hands resting on my waist.

“I can tell Benjen, dearest.” I traced his jaw. “I am sure your mother will require comfort.”

“She will not want it from me,” Ned murmured. “I have always been her least favorite.”

“I am sorry, Eddard.” I kissed his forehead. “If you would prefer to go to your brother, I can handle Lyarra. Or we can tell them together, if you think that easier. I shall support you however you wish, my beloved husband.”

“Let us gather them and Catelyn, along with Rodrik, Luwin, and Osric. I shall require their counsel before I make any decisions.”

Ned’s hand tightly gripped mine as we waited for the others to join us in the council room. Once all seated around the table, their faces turned to Ned expectantly. He opened his mouth, then looked at me. Grief and terror gleamed in his eyes. I squeezed his hand, then stood to address the group.

“Rickard and Brandon have been executed. Aerys has ordered Jon Arryn to bring him Ned and Robert’s heads as well.”

“No.” Lyarra shook her head. “No, no, you cannot say that, no! They cannot both be dead!” She stood and came around the table, cradling Ned’s face with trembling hands, hands Ned covered with his own. “Say something, Ned, please! Please tell me this is not true!” 

“I am sorry, Mother,” he said quietly. “I received the raven not an hour ago.”

A horrible, broken sound tore through Lyarra as her knees gave out; Ned caught her, easing her onto the floor and sitting beside her, his arm around her shoulders, his own face lined with tears. Benjen stared at them for a moment, then looked up at me, confused and angry and mournful, before standing and stomping out of the room. I made eye contact with Axel, standing by the door, and, with a nod, he turned and followed Benjen. I turned to Catelyn, still sitting silently, tears dragging down her face.

“Cat?” I slowly approached her. “Cat, do you—”

“Has my father been informed?” she quietly asked, interrupting me.

“We have not sent word yet, but as soon as we are finished here, I shall write to him.”

She nodded, her breath hitching; before she could exhale, I sat beside her and pulled her into me, letting her wave of sorrow break upon my neck. The minutes stretched, with only Catelyn and Lyarra’s mourning to be heard. Finally, Luwin cleared his throat.

“Your Grace?” He waited a moment, then tried again. “Lady Stark?”

A twinge of annoyance flared in my chest at him calling for Lyarra’s attention. I looked up to say something regarding it, only to find his eyes waiting for mine, and I realized he had meant me. Rickard and Brandon are dead. Eddard is Lord Paramount. You are Eddard’s wife. You are Lady Paramount.

“Yes, Maester Luwin?”

“What is to be Winterfell’s response to this?”

“Jon Arryn has already called his banners; it seems the old bird would rather go to war than give up his former wards,” I replied calmly, continuing to rub Catelyn’s back. “I expect Robert shall be calling his, for Lyanna is still his betrothed. We shall do likewise, and then we shall ride south to meet the bloody dragons in the field. It has been long since they faced the wolves; let us remind them how cold and sharp winter’s bite is.”

Luwin stood, a small smile tugging at his lips, and dipped his head. “I shall send the ravens, Your Grace.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alyssandra quietly took over Winterfell. I devised battle strategies and counted weapons and assigned horses. Benjen sat at my side, watching every move I made, anticipating every need I might have. Our mother stayed in her chambers. Catelyn stayed in hers. And Alyssandra took care of everything within our castle. A sennight after becoming Lord and Lady Paramount, she handed me a detailed diagram of a piece of specialized weaponry that the Targaryens had developed.

“How did you acquire this?” I asked, staring at the parchment.

“Foxes are quite good at remaining undetected, my joy,” she answered. I looked up, tilting my head in confusion. She sighed and cupped my cheek.

“’Tis better if you do not know some things, Eddard. Allow me to be the wolf’s perky ears and gleaming eyes, hm? You worry about being the fangs.”

I wanted to protest, to tell her that she did not need to be any part of the wolf, that she was my kind, warm, glowing (she has been radiant lately, but perhaps it is simply that everything else is so dim) lady wife and thus should not sully her hands with war. But she was looking up at me so sincerely, with so much love, that I could not bring myself to utter anything but a quiet ‘thank you.’

That evening, I kissed every inch of her, painting gratitude upon her skin until she was begging for me, squirming under the praise of my mouth and hands.

“Please Ned, please,” she whimpered, fingers running through my hair as I sucked on her tit. “I’m aching, please.”

I released her nipple to kiss down the center of her body, my hands sliding down her sides to wrap around her thighs, holding them open. She exhaled shakily as I gently kissed her cunt, her fingers curling in my hair once more when I followed with my tongue, licking her slowly, thoroughly. I pressed it into her, making her hips jerk and pulling a small gasp from her.

I could stay here forever.

My cock was leaking, constrained between my stomach and the bed, but the sounds Alyssandra was making were so soothing, so enjoyable, that ignoring it was easy. I let myself get lost in her pleasure, Lord Paramount and war and everything else fading away. All that existed was my wife. She made no attempt to remove me after her first peak, hips lifting slightly from the bed for a moment before falling again with a heavy exhale. I slowed, tracing along the edges where she was less sensitive, giving her a moment to breathe. After her second peak, when my lips stayed wrapped around that bud of nerves that made her lose all ability to think, Alyssandra gently pushed at my head; I softly growled in response and flicked my tongue against the nerves, making her gasp.

“Ned, please.” She attempted to shift away, but I dug my fingers into her thighs, another growl rumbling in my chest. “Ned, you are giving too much, you must be in need of your own release.” I shook my head oh-so slightly, keeping my mouth firmly engaged with her cunt. I did need release, but I needed to drown in her first. And I was still breathing.

Alyssandra sighed and laced the fingers of one hand in my hair, her others wrapping around my wrist as I slid my hand from her thigh to her breast. She arched into me, breast pressing into my hand, cunt pressing into my mouth, my name on each exhale, over and over until her whole body shuddered and she groaned wordlessly, nails digging into my arm and scalp. Only then did I lift my head, licking a stripe from the curls between her legs all the way up to the curls spilling from her temple.

“I wish I could keep my head between your thighs forever,” I whispered in her ear, pulling her leg up around my waist. “Not having to plan or fight or command. Just your cunt on my tongue and your sighs in my ears.”

“That sounds nice, dear husband,” she murmured, “although I do so enjoy your cock.” She hooked her other leg around me and tugged my hips closer, pulling me just barely into her. “Filling me up so completely,” she dug her heel into the back of my thigh, drawing me further in, “touching me so deeply,” a shift of her hips, and I was fully inside, “claiming me so utterly.”

I did not last long, with her words and her warm, soft body around mine, after the wait of losing myself in her enjoyment. Teetering on the edge, I reached between us, rubbing at those nerves once more, determined to bring her to a fourth peak around my cock. She pulled me down, her tongue invading my mouth, thighs squeezing around my waist as her cunt constricted, causing my own release to burst through me with a strangled groan.

Panting, I slid my hands under her shoulder blades and laid my cheek against her breast, my cock softening inside her, keeping my seed close to her womb. There would be no wedding to announce our child at now, but that did not mean I was any less eager to hear she carried it. Alyssandra kept her arms around me, one hand in the middle of my back, the other slowly petting my hair. After a minute, I rubbed my face against her, then turned my head, tucking my face between her breasts with a soft sigh, hiding from everything but her. She let out an amused huff, bending to kiss the top of my head.

“I love you, Eddard,” she murmured. “No matter what this war brings, I am unconditionally, irrevocably yours.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Four nights remained until we left Winterfell for war, intending to travel to Riverrun and petition my uncle for his men. Ned had slipped away that morning immediately after breaking our fast—not that I minded, I had plenty to keep me busy as well. But it was now evening, and a thought had occurred to me, and so I had come to his study to speak to him. 

“Eddard.” He ignored me, furiously writing away. “Eddard!”

“What?” he snapped, looking up. I frowned, and he sighed. “I’m sorry. What is it, Aly?”

“My father may be able to sway my uncle to join Robert, but there is a way you could guarantee his support.” I had approached the desk as I spoke, now standing beside him. “Marriage.”

“Who do you have in mind?” Ned asked, sitting back and placing his hand on my hip.

“Have Stannis marry Cat. She is a good match for him; nurturing and lively, she will balance his cold determination well. It will please my uncle to have her settled, and Stannis will be happy to have a clever, pretty wife waiting for him.”

“He is a far cry from Brandon,” Ned said quietly.

“At first glance.” I stroked his hair. “But I spoke at some length with Stannis at our wedding—he is ambitious and brave and stoic, like Brandon. And those are qualities that Cat appreciates. I know my cousin. They will do well together.”

“Alright,” Ned sighed. “But you are telling her of this plan.”

“Of course, darling.”

Catelyn stared blankly at me for a moment upon hearing my request, then shrugged, sighing heavily, and nodded.

“He is handsome enough, I suppose, and seems quite loyal,” she murmured. “And Father shall be pleased to have an alliance with The Stormlands.”

And so a raven was sent ahead of our army, and preparations were hastily made for another wedding at Riverrun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come with me,” Ned said suddenly. We were back in my childhood bed, the bed where we had first coupled only three moons previously, although it may as well have been a lifetime. Ned had ridden with my uncles and father to meet Robert at Stoney Sept, carrying a lock of my hair under his armor. I had lovingly striped him of said armor upon his victorious return, then laid him out beneath me and ridden him with a vengeance. He now sat against the pillows, my thighs still around his waist, his cock still buried within me and his hands on my ass, our faces inches apart.

“Come with me to meet Rhaegar,” Ned continued, “and when we have defeated him, come to King’s Landing, and then to wherever Lyanna is. Let my mother mind Winterfell; she has no desire to see more of the world, no heat left in her blood. Come keep me company, keep my bed warm, keep my eyes sharp and my head on right.”

“I can accompany you on the next step of your campaign, dearest, but after that, I must return, at least to Riverrun. Although ’twill be far better if I can get to Winterfell,” I answered, holding his face between my hands.

“Why?” Ned demanded. “Why can you not stay by my side? Why can we not return to Winterfell together?”

“We do not know how long you shall be at war, my joy, and the heir to the North ought to be born in the North, don’t you think?” I smiled, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. Ned’s brow furrowed, and my smile grew. “I am carrying your heir, Eddard.”

“No. You are teasing me.”

“I am not!” I shook my head, still smiling. “Eddard, the linens have been clean since we wed. My moonblood has been absent twice now. And I have other signs; my breasts have been sensitive, I have been fatigued, certain smells are suddenly abhorrent to me. Maester Vyman told me this morning he is quite certain I am with child.”

“Oh, Aly.” Ned kissed me deeply, hands gripping my hips. He broke the kiss to look at me adoringly, then gently rolled me over. Kisses trailed down my throat and covered each breast before being laid tenderly on my stomach. 

“Little pup,” he murmured against my skin. 

“I’m so proud to carry your babe,” I whispered, stroking Ned’s hair as he rubbed his thumbs over my stomach, gazing at it lovingly. “My sweet, strong, quiet wolf. What an excellent father you shall be.”

Chapter Text

It was wrong. The Buck Moon glowed full outside and I wore a beautiful blue gown with delicate detailing and had said my vows gazing at a tall, stoic, dark-haired man, and it was all wrong. Because he had blue eyes instead of gray and the detailing was gold instead of white and my sister had been trembling beside me, repeating her own vows to a man four times her age. I drank my wine and tried not to glare. My new husband stood across the hall, in conversation with Ned and my uncles. 

“Do not worry,” Alyssandra whispered, leaning over from her seat beside me, “I shall not let them call for a bedding.”

“What does it matter?” I sighed. “He shall have me either way. I shall start our marriage with a lie, tell him I lost my maidenhead chasing after you on our mares, and then he shall spill his Stormlander seed where a wolf pup was meant to grow. And I shall take it, and make him a son.” I downed the rest of my wine.

“Cat…” Alyssandra’s brow furrowed in concern, and I simultaneously wanted to hide my face in her neck and smack her.

“You arranged this,” I hissed. “Do not try to soften the blow now. You used me as a bargaining piece for your husband’s war.”

“I asked you!” she snapped back. “I brought it up with Eddard first, aye, but I then immediately came to you!”

“As if I had any choice but to agree!”

“You did!” She blinked rapidly, hurt clear in her eyes. “You think so little of me? I would have told Ned not to suggest it if you had been opposed. I would have beseeched your father on my own. And before you blame me for Lysa’s marriage, that was your father’s doing. Lysa made a mistake, Cat. Arryn was willing to overlook it.”

I frowned and looked out across the hall again, this time to where Father stood with Robert and Lord Arryn. Whatever Lysa’s folly, surely it does not warrant being wed to such an old, dull man, to be shackled in a marriage without any hope for love. It feels wrong to call him my brother. I was supposed to gain a sister, too. Though I suppose I still shall gain her, when Robert rescues her from Rhaegar. 

My gaze moved back to Alyssandra, her hand resting low on her stomach, just now starting to show the news she had shared a sennight earlier. That should be my child, heir to Winterfell. Alyssandra caught my frown and sighed, submitting to the weight of my judgment.

“Cat, I’m sorry.” Alyssandra placed her other hand over mine in my lap. “He is not Brandon, I know. But he seems the sort of man to respect his wife and to allow her a reasonable amount of freedom. And should he ever prove rough with you, send a raven and I shall send Ned straight away to knock him right again.” She paused for a moment, searching my face.

“I, I am truly sorry, Cat. If I could trade with you, I would, without a second thought. I would give you Eddard in a heartbeat, give you dedication and kindness and your rightful place as Lady of Winterfell. He is my beloved husband, but you…” Alyssandra sighed. “You are the most treasured piece of my heart, Cat, and a much better woman than I am. You deserve him far more than I do.”

She ducked her head, her lip trembling, and suddenly I felt overwhelmingly guilty for blaming her. She had been thrust into a position she had never imagined she would hold, under immense pressures, and she had performed extraordinarily well, all while being pregnant for the first time. Prince Rhaegar was to blame for the situation we now found ourselves in, and somewhat Brandon himself, for having been so recklessly angry, but not her.

“I am sorry, I should not have spoken harshly towards you,” I told her, turning my hand to clasp hers in my lap. “I am nervous, about all of this, and I let that out upon you. Forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive.” Alyssandra gave me a soft smile.

“We shall soon be separated by such a distance,” I said after a moment. “I do not know how I shall manage without you.”

“You?” Alyssandra tilted her head with an amused huff. “You shall do brilliantly, as you always do. No,” she shook her head at my doubtful expression, “I do not want to hear it. You shall charm the Iron Stag, and run Storm’s End with precision and fairness, and make all those Stormlanders offer their respects on silver platters, and when this bloody war is over I shall come to visit you, and, gods be good, you shall have a little fawn for my pup to meet.”

The thought of a child, even with Stannis, sparked a warmth in my chest. I smiled, my love for my cousin softening my worries, and she smiled back, and for a shining moment, everything was alright again. Then I caught sight of Stannis approaching, looking grimly determined. Behind him, Ned was holding Robert’s elbow, telling him something that made him frown and roll his eyes. Stannis rounded the table and came to my side, his eyes cool, his jaw set.

“Lady Stark. Lady wife.” Stannis dipped his head to Alyssandra, then to me. “I have been informed that it is time for me to escort you to…” He swallowed, glancing down.

“To the marital bed, my lord?” Alyssandra supplied, cocking her head.

“Yes, thank you.” Stannis flicked his eyes up to her for a second, then turned his gaze back to me. “My lady?” He held out a hand. Before I could take it, Alyssandra squeezed the one still in my lap and leaned in, kissing my cheek.

“I love you,” she whispered in my ear. “Always.”

She let go of my hand, and I allowed Stannis to pull me to my feet. As we left the hall, I heard Alyssandra settling the men down, telling them that any who had been at her own wedding had already seen everything, since she and I were so alike, then laughing at some comment of Robert’s that I couldn’t make out. I caught a flicker of a frown on Stannis’ face.

“Your brother was surely disappointed to not be carrying me off for you, my lord,” I remarked. “He was rather enthusiastic at my cousin’s bedding.”

“Aye, my lady. But even Robert occasionally does not get what he wants.”

“I do not recall seeing you during her bedding, my lord,” I said after a moment, trying to get some understanding of this man before I spread my legs for him. “Though I know you were in attendance that evening.”

“I have no interest in dragging some girl I do not know about a castle, nor in ripping at her garments,” Stannis replied tersely.

“Oh, well, I am glad to hear that my gown shall survive the night, as I do think it rather pretty.”

“I am sure you could make nearly anything pretty, my lady.” The compliment was unexpected, and I blushed despite myself. “You are The Rose of The Riverlands, after all.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

I could not think of anything else to say and he seemed to prefer saying nothing at all, and so the remainder of the walk was silent. After a few minutes, we reached the door to my chambers, Ser Kermit already posted outside. He and Stannis exchanged nods, then he opened the door with a quiet ‘Lady Catelyn’ and we stepped inside. Stannis looked around the sitting room as I went into my boudoir and removed my jewelry, setting it on my dressing table. He seemed surprised when I reappeared so quickly, cocking his head and furrowing his brow.

“You have left your hair done,” he stated, his tone giving away nothing.

“Would you prefer it down, my lord?” I clasped my hands in front of me, looking demure. “So that you may pull it?”

Stannis blinked rapidly, then frowned. “I have no intention of pulling your hair, my lady. If you would rather it remain up, you may leave it. But I do not mind waiting while you take it down.”

“You know,” I said as I turned back to my boudoir, already beginning to pull the flowers from my head, “my cousin’s husband is extremely fond of her hair. He does it for her every morning.” Stannis did not reply, and I sighed, before quickly removing the rest of the flowers and pins, letting the waves spill down my back. I emerged again, and met Stannis’ eyes, then tipped my head towards my bedchamber.

“Shall we, my lord?” I asked with a calm I in no way felt. My heart threatened to burst from my chest with every beat, my lungs threatened to collapse with each breath. But Stannis nodded, and followed me into the fire-lit room. 

He carefully removed his doublet and set it upon the trunk at the foot of my bed as I unpinned his cloak and hung it on a hook by the door. I took a deep breath, then gathered my hair over one shoulder and turned my back to him.

“The laces, my lord, I cannot undo them myself,” I said evenly, forcing myself to not react to the closeness of his body or his hands at my back. My gown fell to the ground, leaving me in my chemise and delicate calfskin shoes. I slipped my feet from them and turned around to face my husband. He studied me for a moment, tilting his head. 

“You are trembling,” he quietly observed. “Do you not want this? I do not wish to force anything upon you, my lady.” 

“Our marriage is not complete without it,” I whispered.

“Lady wife, I—”

“Just do it, my lord. Stop caring so much.”

“I am afraid your willingness is required.” Stannis stepped away from me and turned to pour himself a glass from the pitcher of wine that had been left on the small table by the window. “I cannot take you without any desire on your part.”

“Yes you can, I am your wife. You may do as you please with me.” I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hide from him. 

“You misunderstand me.” Stannis turned back to me, looking pained. “Catelyn, my lady, I physically cannot. Your fear, it…” He shook his head. “You are beautiful, and many men would find the sight of your body alone enough to spill their seed, regardless of your feelings. Some would find your tears attractive. But I am not one of them. I cannot function as a husband ought in the bedchamber unless you are also desirous of such things.”

“Oh.” My posture relaxed slightly. “You, you are…kept soft by my uncertainty?”

“Aye.” Stannis took a slow drink. “Does that surprise you?”

I shrugged. “I had not considered such a thing, but I suppose I understand it.” I met his eyes, and found a sympathy there that made my heart twinge. “Still, our marriage is not valid unless you bed me, my lord. We must do our duty.”

“Yes, I suppose we must.” He quickly downed the rest of the wine in his goblet, set it down, and turned back to me. “How can I make this easier on you?”

“What?” I blinked rapidly. “I don’t, I, make this easier?”

“I could take you from behind, so you do not have to look at me. You can pretend that I am him.”

“Do you wish to pretend I am another?” The thought had not occurred to me until this moment, that he might have had a woman he loved, that he had forsaken for familial duty. The idea made me irrationally irritated.

“No!” Stannis shook his head. “No, my lady, I have no thoughts of another.” He held my gaze, his sea-storm eyes (quite lovely, in the firelight) searching mine.

“What part of me do you like best, my lord?” I asked after a moment. Stannis cocked his head, puzzled. “My body, what piece of it appeals to you the most?”

“Well, my lady, I cannot see all of your body, and thus I cannot make a full, accurate evaluation.”

“Right.” I swallowed, then took a deep breath and quickly yanked my chemise up and over my head. “There. Evaluate.”

Stannis’ eyes darted over my skin, his cheeks red. I waited patiently; now that I knew he would not at all force himself upon me, I felt much more at ease. It did not mean he would be any good, but it did give me hope that I would be able to guide him, and perhaps the bedding at least could be something we enjoyed, even if our marriage remained loveless. His gaze rested a moment upon my breasts, then slid over the curve of my hip and lingered briefly on deep auburn curls before coming to my thighs. There was a flicker of heat in his eyes as he carefully inhaled.

“Turn around,” Stannis said quietly. I did so, glancing over my shoulder at him. He took another slow breath, eyes low on my body, then nodded, gesturing for me to turn back. When I was facing him again, Stannis pulled his shirt over his head and kicked off his boots, then made quick work of his belt and the laces of his breeches, letting them fall to the floor. I blinked, taking him in.

He is well-built; lean, but strong. Why is he so much hairier than Brandon? He is from the proper South, that does not make any—oh. OH. I couldn’t move my eyes. Cocks aren’t meant to be pretty. Why is his pretty? Why can I not stop looking at it?

“My lady?”

“I didn’t know cocks could be pretty.” The words fell off my tongue unbidden. I slapped my hand over my mouth, wide eyes snapping up to his. A ghost of a grin hovered on Stannis’ face as he stepped forward.

“You think my cock is pretty, lady wife?” He gently held my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes.

“My maidenhead, my lord,” I said quickly, avoiding his question. “I cannot give it to you.” Stannis arched his brow. “Riding, my lord, galloping about after my cousin.”

“Hm, well, I cannot fault you for that.” Stannis held my gaze for a moment, then sighed. “You should know, I have known no other women. So I do apologize if I am clumsy with you. You may guide me as you wish.” He dropped his hand and tilted his head towards the bed. “Let us complete our marriage, my lady.”

I turned from him and got on the bed, laying down in the middle. Stannis followed me, and I opened my knees for him, letting him kneel between my legs. He wrapped a hand around my thigh, his other hand slipping between us, brushing through the slick warmth of my arousal. I gasped at his touch, brow furrowing in confusion.

“I thought, oh,” he was stroking over my nerves delightfully, making it difficult already to speak, “you had not known any other women?”

“I have not. But,” Stannis pressed a finger inside me, making me gasp, “my brother talks quite a bit. Also, seeing as you and your cousin are quite similar, I asked her husband,” a second finger, pulling a small moan from me, “if he had any notes on how to make a Tully woman happy.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t think of any other response, not when his fingers were curling like that and I could feel his cock hardening against my thigh. The fact that he was enjoying watching me sent a lick of heat up my spine and made me rock against him. He pressed his thumb against the nerves just above where his fingers were inside me, and I moaned, gripping the blanket beneath me.

“Do you enjoy my fingers, lady wife?” Stannis asked softly, a hint of danger lurking underneath.

“Uh-huh.” I nodded, already dumb with want. I am absolutely fucked. Alyssandra is going to laugh so hard upon hearing of this.

“That’s good.” Stannis bent and kissed me. “Because I am quite enjoying watching you lose yourself to them,” he murmured a breath away from my lips. He kissed me again, then sat up, pulling his hand away. I frowned, and he raised a brow.

“Just a moment, little wife.” He shifted, taking his cock in his hand, and then he was pressing into me and I couldn’t think, because somehow this felt exactly right, like we had been made for each other. His earlier suggestion was laughable now, for I couldn’t have thought of Brandon if I had tried, even for a second. All I could think was please, please Stannis, gods, yes!

“That’s it, good,” Stannis grunted, fingers digging into my thighs. I just moaned again, rocking my hips, my release squeezing at my core. Stannis tugged me closer, pulling my hips off the bed and putting his cock at a new angle. My breath caught in my chest, and I stared up at him, shocked, then the wave crashed into me and I squirmed in his grasp and a second later I felt him spill inside me, and instead of the quiet acceptance I had expected, I felt joy at knowing I might soon carry his child.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I didn’t think he had it in him,” Robert muttered as Catelyn loudly moaned. “Are you sure your cousin isn’t putting on a show for us?” His head rolled against the stone to face me, dark blue eyes twinkling in the torchlight. I had quickly gotten all the men in the hall settled down, then slipped away with Ned and Robert to ensure the marriage we needed was in fact consummated. Ser Kermit had raised a brow at us, but said nothing, used to my antics after so many years at Riverrun together.

“I’m sure,” I said firmly. “Cat would not pretend to enjoy her husband. She would do her duty, certainly, but it would be clear if it was duty alone.” Another moan punctuated my statement.

“She sounds like you,” Ned observed. I gasped and swatted his chest, as Robert laughed and took another drink. Ned’s mouth quirked playfully at me, my hand caught in his and brought to his lap.

“How long do you think until she starts begging for fawns as you beg for pups?” Ned teased.

“Eddard!”

“What? You told Brandon the morning after we were wed that Catelyn would say much the same to him as you had to me, that you were both eager to be mothers.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek, then pressed his face into my neck. “Gonna make you a mother so many times,” Ned murmured against my skin.

“You’re drunk,” I said fondly. Robert rolled his eyes as Ned nuzzled me, his free hand coming to rest on the barely perceptible swell of my stomach.

“Must you be so in love?” Robert asked gruffly. “It is sickening to see my stoic friend so…” he waved a hand around, “…soft.”

“Mmm, so many pups,” Ned mumbled, ignoring Robert completely and seemingly speaking directly to my womb, to our child. “A whole pack of little wolves, to fill Winterfell with their howls.”

“Alright, yes, Eddard, you may have a pack of pups,” I agreed, shaking my head and smiling. “Now stop being so adoring before Robert heaves.” Ned sighed, turning his head to rest it on my shoulder. We sat quietly for another few minutes, although the sounds from my cousin’s chambers had also ceased.

“Robert, I know you’re out there!” Stannis suddenly called from behind the door. Robert opened his mouth but I smacked his arm before he could reply, pushing Ned upright, then standing and crossing the corridor.

“Cat, I’m coming in, so if you don’t want me to see your husband’s cock, cover it now!” I announced, waiting a beat before opening the door.

“Aly!” Catelyn huffed, leaping from the bed and flying out of her bedchamber and across the sitting room to slam the door closed behind me. “By the Seven, do you have no shame?”

“I have plenty of shame.” I leaned against the wall, grinning. “I told you to cover your new toy, did I not?” I glanced at the bed through the doorway. “Sounded like you enjoyed playing with it.” Stannis, blanket held to his chest, flushed and looked away from me.

“Alyyyyy,” Catelyn whined, eyes wide.

“Oh please.” I waved my hand. “I had a bedding ceremony. You were there! You participated! And then Brandon and Robert stood right outside the door, making loud comments the entire time! At least we just listened to you two!”

“Aly, please,” Catelyn hissed. “I understand why you had to listen, but I would very much like to spend the rest of my night in peace.”

“Alright, alright.” I took her hands in mine, and lowered my voice. “I simply wanted to check on you, Cat.”

“I know.” She smiled and squeezed my hands. “He was very respectful. I think we shall be able to make something good out of this yet.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What is the name of the horse?” I looked up at Stannis as he handed me a goblet of wine, confused. “The one you broke your maidenhead on,” he elaborated.

“Oh!” I smiled. “Elenei. She is my personal mount, full sister to Alyssandra’s mare, Meleys.”

“The first Storm Queen,” Stannis said quietly, leaning back against the pillows beside me. “A sign, perhaps.”

“Of what, lord husband?”

Stannis shrugged, and took a sip of wine. “Of your place in the world, I suppose. Though I don’t bet on signs, generally speaking.”

I left the topic alone, instead taking advantage of his more open mood to ask about Storm’s End and his younger brother, Renly. Down the corridor, my cousin and her husband enjoyed one another as much as they always did, while down in The Reach, Mace Tyrell gathered his forces and began to march towards my new home.