Chapter Text
305 AC- House Feast for the Dawn
Sansa made her way to the gods wood to get away from everyone else. Between the smoke and everyone’s drunkenness, and her own bad history with feasts she truly did not want to spend another minute in the grand hall of Winterfell. It was only a matter of time before someone was killed, raped, or would just spontaneously turn to dust if Sansa’s track record at feasts was anything to go by. Ten years ago Sansa would not have been able to be dragged away from the feast by one of Daenerys’ dragons. Now, she could not care less.
Still more than a little drunk from the feast she stumbled through the courtyard wondering where exactly it was that she wanted to go. She did not want to go to her room, and right now any friends she wanted to go to were… preoccupied. Brienne was with Jaime, Jon with Daenerys, and Gendry was on his way to Arya, so she knew what they were doing. That is unless he was stupid enough to use his newfound legitimacy to propose she because the new lady of Storm’s End. Otherwise he’ll probably be sleeping with only his hand for company….
Did she really just think that? She must have been drunker than she thought. She was never a fan of crude jokes, not when Theon used to make them, not when Tyrion did, not even when Shae made them. She needed… she needed. She needed to pray. She wanted to be… preoccupied, but she needed to pray.
Ever since the Long Night people have been much more pious. The Sept had been overfilling, as had the godswood. This would be the first time that she would be able to pray in the Stark’s godswood alone. She must be drunker than she thought since she got lost. Twice.
Had it not been for Ghost finding her she doubted that she would have found the heart tree let alone gotten out of the godswood that night. As soon as she got to the clearing she was surprised though.
“Oh, hello there.” Sansa said, somewhat confused.
The Pale blond Knight with the prettiest indigo eyes that Sansa had ever seen looked up from the tree. “My Lady.” He said, bowing his head.
“Who are you?” Sansa asked cocking her eyebrow. She definitely did not recognize him, and he had the smell of the south on him, but he was praying to the old gods. He stood up to greet her properly.
“It is an honor to meet you, My Lady.” He said, kissing her hand. Had Sansa been a younger girl again she may have swooned at the gallant knight but not today. She narrowed her eyes at the man who was avoiding telling her “Lord Ned Dayne.”
“Ned?” She said, eyes snapping to his with his name.
“Yes, My Lady. Like your father.” Ned explained, “Just like him in fact, I am named after him.”
“Really?” She said, wondering what the man’s game was. What did this man want by bringing up her father?
“Yes.” Ned said, “He and my aunt were in love before he married your lady mother.”
“And he killed your uncle, yet you are named after him?” Sansa said, suspiciously.
“Yes, My Lady. He brought back Dawn.” He said, and Sansa vaguely remembered that being the name of the Sword of House Dayne. “Not many men would do that. Keeping Dawn off a killed Sword of the Morning would be a good way to brag. But he didn’t. And between you and me…”
He leaned in and Sansa followed suit at the boy’s earnestness. “I am pretty sure my Aunt is the mother of the King.”
“What!” Sansa said, she never thought of Jon’s mother. Before nor after their reunion. To do so would feel like a betrayal to her mother.
“Yes, there are conflicting stories at Starfall, but my Aunt Ashara could be the most likely.” He said, almost ruefully. “I was going to speak to him about the possibility but wanted to wait until all of this had been finished with.”
“And you wanted me to introduce you two?” Sansa said, realizing what he was trying to do. She was about to walk away in disgust before his eyes widened in shock.
“No, My Lady!” He said earnestly. “I would never! I…”
“You?”
“I almost met him once, you know? I saw him at the Hand's tourney. I wanted to go up and speak with him, but I couldn't think what to say. But now I regret it.” He said, and then he blushed. “He’s not the only one I regret not going to introduce myself to…”
“Oh?” She asked, mirth building up inside of her. There was something endearing about seeing a grown man blush.
“Y- Yes My Lady.” He said, blushing and when he saw her expecting eyebrow he added, “You were wearing a lavender dress. Loras Tyrell gave you a rose.”
She was shocked at the man’s memory. She was often told she was beautiful, in fact many of her problems stemmed from the fact that men wanted her beauty for themselves regardless of what she wanted, but the fact that he remembered after all this time? She could not say she was not flattered.
“Maybe you can escort me back to the keep?” Sansa asked, offering her arm for him to take. “Maybe you can explain to me why a southerner is praying to the old gods?”
“Of course, My Lady.” He said, beaming and Sansa almost got lost in his indigo eyes. His gorgeous, gorgeous indigo eyes. Maybe she just found herself someone who could... preoccupy her.
298 AC- House Stark Godswood
Catelyn doesn’t like the godswood. She never has. She is a Tully of Riverrun, and the godswood there is bright and airy, with birds, tinkling streams, and wildflowers. The one in Winterfell is dark and primal, ten thousand years old, smelling of moist earth. Thick black trunks grow close together, creating a place of deep silence and brooding shadows, and her husband’s gods here have no names.
Catelyn knows her husband will be here tonight, as he always goes to the godswood after taking a man’s life. Catelyn follows the Faith of the Seven, and while her family does have a godswood like every major noble family, their worship takes place in the sept. Ned had built her a small sept despite what other Northerners thought of having a dedication to the faith of the Andals in the heart of the North. Her husband tended to do things his own way, but the blood of the First Men flows in the veins of the Starks, and his own gods are the old ones.
Catelyn finds her husband cleaning his blade beneath the tree, into the reflective pool beneath the Heart tree. She calls out his name softly. He lifts his head and replies in a formal tone, asking where the children are. She replies they are in the kitchen arguing about names for their wolf pups. Sitting down, she can feel the eyes of the heart tree watching but tries to ignore it. She tells Ned “Arya is already in love, Sansa is charmed and gracious, but Rickon is still unsure and a little afraid.”
“He must learn to face his fears.” Ned said, running the rag down the blade. “He won’t be three forever and Winter… Winter is Coming
“I’ve always admired the Stark words.” Catelyn said, “They’re the only noble house words that don’t praise the house’s glory, honor or loyalty and courage. The Stark words are a warning. Winter is coming.”
Ned smiled at that, “The man died bravely.” Ned said, as Catelyn watches his sword. He polishes it slowly and thoughtfully; Catelyn is in awe of its beauty. She is not usually fond of swords but can’t deny that Ice is special. The Valyrian Steel sword had a legacy from when the Starks were Kings in the North. “You’d have been proud of Bran.”
“I’m always proud of Bran.” She said, with a small smile. But Ned did not return it.
“That was the fourth this year.” Ned said, looking worried. “Last we spoke, Benjen said that they have less than a thousand members. They are losing men by both desertions and by losing men on rangings as well.”
At Catelyn’s look he added, “It has to be the Wildlings. I may need to ride north with my bannermen to deal with this King-beyond-the-Wall once and for all.”
“There are darker things than Mance Rayder up there” Catelyn says knowingly.
“You should not listen to Old Nan’s stories as the Others have been gone for eight thousand years, if they ever existed at all. No man has ever seen them, and there is no such thing as magic.”
A wave of light flashed from the normally dark and foreboding Heart Tree and three half-dressed bodies flew from the tree. Catelyn screamed and even Ned, a veteran of two wars, jumped before stepping in front of her holding out Ice. The three people who… came out of the tree all looked as scared and confused as the married couple as they exchanged looks before seeing an armed Ned. The three scrambled into action and Catelyn sucked in a breath.
Looking at the group it was as if she were looking at her own daughters and a young Jaime Lannister from when he came to Riverrun all those years ago. The blond boy with sapphire eyes pulled out his sword, a Valyrian Steel sword with a lionhead pommel, and the girl who looked like Catelyn around the age she was betrothed to Brandon but with electric shining with energy compared to a calm river blue eyes of the Tully’s lifted up the hem of her skirt slightly to pull out a Valyrian steel dagger which Catelyn noted she held like someone who had used it before. She was also quick to note that the Blond and Sansa look alike both seemed in a state of half dress which made it obvious to what they were about to do.
Their companion seemed of the same mind as she crinkled her nose and in disgust exclaimed, “Are you two serious?” making both gave her a look that mixed as a dirty and guilt look. As she spoke Catelyn gave her a more analytic look.
The kneeling girl looked like Jon Snow had he been born a female. She says Jon Snow opposed to Arya because there is only one family those Indigo eyes could have come from. Ned never answered for true on Jon Snow’s parentage, but Catelyn knew from his reaction from when she brought it up all those years ago. She would put the girl’s age at around thirteen to fourteen, her own Sansa’s age, and she held a drawn bow with an arrow that had a peculiar black material at the tip showing off an unusual amount of muscle in her arms and back for a woman.
“Who are you!” Ned and the Indigo eyed girl both exclaim at the same time.
“I asked you first!” Ned exclaimed sounding like one of their girls while they are having an argument.
“You are outnumbered and trespassing!” The brown-haired girl shot back.
“Trespassing?”
“This is the Stark’s godswood! Those with Stark blood only!” The redhead added, indignantly.
“I wasn’t aware there were any additions to House Stark?” Ned said an almost joking tone in his voice. “Now who…”
Ned was cut off as the married coupled heard growling from behind them as two fully grown Direwolves paced behind them. As many people who told the story of the finding of the direwolves and the dead mother Catelyn never could get herself to truly believe the size that they described. Seeing the golden orange and the black and white patched pony sized direwolves instantly changed her mind.
“Who are you… mother?” The Indigo-eyed girl started, before being surprised as Catelyn’s head snapped back to look at the children. She slightly lowered her bow and loosened her grip on the bow string.
“That’s not her!” The redhead said but seemed very unsure of her reassurance. “Whoever she is she’s… she’s not… is that… Ice?”
“Of course it’s Ice.” Ned snapped, and all three lowered their weapons as their jaws dropped in shock. The sight would have been comical had the situation not been so tense.
“Wha- What are your names?” The blond boy asked, apprehensively before being corrected by the brunette.
“No.” The Indigo-eyed girl corrected. “What year is this?” Her companions looked confused at her words before realizing what she was insinuating.
“298?” Catelyn said, as confused as the youths looked.
All three looked as if they were told their closest relative had died. “You’re… You’re Ned and Catelyn Stark, aren’t you?” The girl who looked like her Sansa asked.
“Yes!” She snapped. “What kind of question is that?”
Ned lowered his own sword, “What year do you think it is?”
The red head who seemed to be the leader of the group dejectedly said, “323.”
The husband and wife exchanged looks, “Th- That’s impossible!”
“Well they just appeared in a flash of light?”
“That still doesn’t mean that they’re from that year. There are plenty of mummer and magicians that could pull effects like that and…”
“But still they look to much like our own children!”
“They said, as the people they were talking about were nowhere near them so unable to hear the couple talking about them…” The Redhead said, sarcastically. Catelyn had to admit to herself, it was strange hearing Arya’s voice coming out of Sansa’s mouth.
“Maybe an introduction is in order?” Catelyn asked, noticing that the Direwolves
had calmed down and were no longer threatening her and Ned.
The Indigo-eyed girl who seemed to be the youngest of the group exchanged looks with her companions. “Can we?” The brunette asked, “The ink is supposed to be dry but this?”
“Well Unc…” The redhead said, quickly correcting herself “He once slipped and said the ink in our book is dry? Maybe we are in another book?”
“What does that… Has he been giving you lessons?” The Indigo-eyed girl said, before correcting herself mid-sentence, outraged in her realization.
“Yes, we can’t all be natural prodigies Vori!” The red head snapped back, and Catelyn was getting de ja vu of Arya and Sansa.
“That is so unfair!” the girl Vori said, “Maybe I wanted…”
“You’re the heir to one of the oldest castles in Westeros!” The redhead snapped, and the blond boy stepped back as if knowing not to get in between the sisters (?) argument. “You cannot be… you can’t have that position.”
“You are an heir?” Ned asked, confused looking at the girl who looked to be the same age as her Sansa.
“Yes.” She said, curtly. “I am my… I am the heir. I am the oldest child of course.”
“Such as in Dorne.” Ned supplied to everyone’s agreement.
“Yes and no, the king has changed the law so that the oldest child inherits, everywhere.” Vori explained.
“Which king?” He said, surprised and Catelyn could not blame him. Heavens know that Tywin Lannister would never endorse a law like that and he definitely would have a killer grip on his grandson’s policies once King Robert died.
“Nice try…” Vori said, unfooled.
“We are already here.” The red head said, finally. “We can work on the effects later. I am Lynarra, this is Vorianne my cousin, and this is Jonah my husband.”
“Husband!” Ned, Catelyn and surprisingly Vorianne all exclaimed. The girl looked to be about fourteen, fifteen at most, much too young to be married.
“I didn’t even know you two were betrothed.” Vorianne whined, causing the two others to look guiltily at each other. “Oh please tell me that you two did not pull a…” Her eyes briefly met Ned’s before saying “…an elopement.”
Catelyn narrowed her eyes as the girl had obviously edited her words. But Lynarra simply crossed her arms. “Your parents are going to kill you!”
“As if they had any room to talk!” She snapped and Catelyn smirked before she had a sinking feeling. The year 323 was not that far away. Judging by the resemblance and the fact they identified themselves as Starks, meant that these children were probably Ned and Catelyn’s, (or judging by the brunette’s eyes just Ned’s) grandchildren. If Lynarra’s parents have no room to speak that meant one of her children would be eloping!
Ned’s eyes narrowed as he seemed to come to the same conclusion. “Let me guess…” Ned deadpanned, “Arya’s daughter?”
All three laughed as Ned and Catelyn realized the guess must be correct.