The Quiet Wolf

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The Following 16 Chapters are available for Patrons. 

Chapter 61 (Mother and Son), Chapter 62 (A Night of Passion), Chapter 63 (Silverwing and Morning), Chapter 64 (The Jousting), Chapter 65 (A Dragon of House Targaryen), Chapter 66 (A Threat or Salvation), Chapter 67 (Cannibal, The Wild Dragon), Chapter 68 (Daenerys, The Dragon Princess), Chapter 69 (A Golden Flower), Chapter 70 (Tears of Direwolves), Chapter 71 (A Stark Without A Direwolf), Chapter 72 (A Princess's Night), Chapter 73 (A Direwolf's Blood), Chapter 74 (Morning and Rhaenys), Chapter 75 (A Song of Dragons), and Chapter 76 (Leaving Harrenhal) are already available for Patrons.

Eddard Stark

Something was going on. He knew it. Jon hadn't come to sleep in his bedchamber for a few days. Anytime Ned would see him, he would be in the company of anyone from the Royal Family. At first, he had thought it was just a coincidence, but Ned now knew it wasn't that. There was only one reason why Jon would spend time with his...family. Ned still found it strange to think of the Royal Family as Jon's Family.

Ned knew Jon had must have told them the truth, he knew there was no other way, and Ned knew his fate was permanently sealed. He was a walking dead man. He counted the days until the Royal Guards would march up to him and imprison him and the rest of his family for high treason. But Ned remembered the deal he had made with Queen Rhaella. Despite her clear hatred for him, he knew she would keep her promise. At least, he hoped she would.

In the last few days, things had started getting worse between Robb and his betrothal. Ned didn't know what was happening between the two. They seemed happy and seemed to be getting along, but since the Melee, something had changed between them. Ned could sense that their once harmonious relationship was now strained. Even Catelyn had noticed the change. She confided in Ned that Robb seemed less enthused to meet Lady Wynafryd and spend time with her. Perhaps the pressures of ruling Winterfell had taken a toll on him, or maybe there was something else at play. Whatever the reason, Ned knew that he had to intervene before their relationship deteriorated any further.

Robb was making it clear that he didn't want to meet with her anymore, but the same wasn't for Lady Manderly. She would still seem very happy whenever Robb was with her and often talked first and kept the conversation going, but Robb would often seem as if his attention was entirely elsewhere.

Sansa and Arya had spent time with the lady, trying to make her feel as welcome as possible—especially Sansa, who couldn't stop talking about the South.

Ned wondered if it had to do with the girl he met that day, he still remembered her hunting violet eyes. She looked so much like Ashara, almost like how Ashara looked during the Tourney of Harrenhal 17 years ago. He had tried to find her, but so far, no luck.

But it wasn't just Robb. Catelyn had told him that even Sansa was seen with someone, a Lord, according to her, a boy around her age; Catelyn had told him that he needed to have a serious talk with Sansa, she could easily be seduced by this lord and lose her maidenhood, but Ned had told her that she was a better option when it comes to talking with Sansa about such things.

As the sun rose slowly, illuminating the dining hall with the gentle morning light, the entire House Stark gathered to break their fast after a long night of fasting. The aroma of freshly baked bread and sizzling bacon filled the air, tantalizing their senses and whetting their appetites. However, the usual lively chatter and banter that accompanied their meals was absent as the family solemnly and silently partook in their food. Only the clinking of utensils and the occasional cough broke the stillness that hung over the room.

Ned, sitting at the head of the table, observed his children with a keen eye. He noticed that Rickon and Bran were engaged in a quiet conversation, their voices barely above a whisper, as they nibbled on their food. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of his two youngest sons, so close in age yet so different in temperament. However, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness as he looked at the empty seat next to him, where Jon usually sat. His absence was keenly felt by almost everyone, and it was clear that his presence was sorely missed. The food on his plate remained untouched, a poignant reminder of his absence.

As Wynafryd arrived with Robb at the dining table for their meal, she had brought with her a plate of boiled eggs with onions that she had prepared with care. Despite Robb's attempt to put up a smile while enjoying the meal, it was evident to Ned that the smile was not genuine. Nevertheless, he couldn't help noticing the way Wynafryd had taken the time to prepare the meal for Robb and how Robb had appreciated her gesture by trying to enjoy it despite his inner turmoil.

Ned felt his heart almost stop a beat. He still remembered how Lyanna acted around Robert during the Tourney. Whatever Robb was doing needed to stop; Ned didn't know what was going through his son's head, but he would never allow him to shame House Stark. Ned remembered Robb's promise that he would become a good lord. Ned still believed that, but he would never allow his son to shame both House Stark and House Manderly. If his son had fallen foolishly in love with another girl, then Ned, as much as he didn't like it, wouldn't allow it to continue.

Ned knew what it was like to marry someone they didn't love. He still remembered the vivid dreams that haunted him every night. In those dreams, Ashara, the woman he had loved and still loved, appeared before him, her eyes blazing with anger and hatred as she cursed him for taking advantage of her, betraying her trust, and for lying to her. The memory of those bitter accusations still stung him, even after all these years, and he knew deep down that he had indeed done all those things and that he had hurt her deeply. He wanted his son to be better than him.

The last thing he needed was for Robb to do something foolish, like marry this girl in secret and ruin his entire life. Robb doing that would forever break any friendship between House Manderly and House Stark, not counting his reputation would be dragged through the mud, and no one would follow him, and his leadership would be questioned. Ned wouldn't allow it if his son would do that, then Ned would personally remove him from the line of succession. Bran would become the future lord of Winterfell.

Ned knew it might be a little drastic, but the last thing he wanted was another war, and for House Stark to be hated amongst The North, knowing the upcoming trial and the end of his own life, Ned knew he needed to do something fast, he decided to have a long talk with Robb.

Ned escaped his thoughts when his daughter's voice reached his ears. "Father, where's Jon?" her voice tinged with concern. Arya pouted as she idly played with her food using a fork, her eyes turning to look at Ned, who swallowed hard, feeling the lump in his throat move with the piece of boiled egg he had just eaten.

"I don't know, Arya, but your brother is a grown man now. Don't forget that he won the Melee. He can take care of himself." Ned reminded Arya, hoping his words would ease her worries; Ned knew why Jon hadn't been around lately, and he couldn't blame him. A part of Ned wished they could return to the old days, but he quickly dismissed the thought. Jon was never happy with them; Ned knew it now. He had been a fool to think that Jon was happy.

Perhaps I just wanted to believe a lie, Ned thought grimly, as Ned gazed solemnly at his reflection staring back at him from the depths of the crystal-clear water in his cup

"But, why is Jon not here?" Arya continued questioning with a hint of irritation in her voice. With a sense of rebellion, Arya pushed her plate of food away from the table as a sign of protest, indicating that she was not pleased with the situation. Crossing her little arms in front of her chest, she stared intently at her family members, waiting for an answer to her burning question about why Jon was not present.

Ned was about to open his mouth when Bran spoke. "Perhaps he has found a lady friend. I saw him yesterday in the garden with Princess Rhaenys." He said nonchalantly, not realizing the looks he was getting from his family, especially Catelyn, whose face turned slightly red in her seat.

"How do you know that, Bran?" The question hung in the air like a thick fog, causing the atmosphere to grow tense. Bran, who had been lost in thought, suddenly snapped back to reality, realizing that he had let slip a secret he shouldn't have shared. His face flushed with embarrassment, and he stiffened as if trying to disappear into the background. Ned's piercing gaze made him feel like a cornered animal, and he struggled to come up with a believable excuse for his slip-up. As silence filled the room, Bran's mind raced with possible explanations, but he knew that none of them would satisfy his father's curiosity.

Realizing his son wasn't saying anything. "Bran?" Ned called him again after a few moments of silence, demanding an answer.

"I was climbing one of the Harrenhal towers when I saw them," Bran answered with a low tone, his eyes slowly looking downwards, hiding his face from everyone, looking like someone who was just got caught stealing cake; Bran knew his parents wouldn't be happy that he climbed a tower. His words earned a low gasp from his mother.

"Bran, how many times have I told you? No more climbing." Catelyn spoke sternly as she stood up from her chair, the wooden legs screeching against the stone floor in protest. Her eyes were fixed on the young boy, who stood before her with his head hung low, his face a picture of regret and defiance. Catelyn took a deep breath, feeling her frustration bubbling up inside her like a volcano about to erupt. She had warned Bran countless times about the dangers of climbing. 

Bran's eyes were fixed on his lap. His heart weighed down with a heavy burden of guilt. He had let his tongue slip, and now, the entire room seemed engulfed in a thick cloud of anger and disappointment. His parents were glaring at him with piercing eyes, and his siblings looked at him with a mixture of disappointment and disbelief. It was at this moment that Arya put a protective arm around Bran as if to shield him from the chiding of their parents. Her touch was like a soothing balm on Bran's wounded soul, and he felt a sense of gratitude wash over him.

"Bran, Harrenhal, it's not Winterfell. You have climbed all the towers of Winterfell countless times, but Harrenhal is not the same. I don't want to hear that you have climbed a tower you're unfamiliar with." Ned spoke strictly at Bran.

Summoning his sternest voice, Ned leaned closer to Bran and repeated his question: "Are we clear?" The little boy's eyes darted up to meet his father's, his expression betraying a mixture of guilt and shame. For a moment, Ned thought that Bran might not have been listening at all, but then the boy slowly nodded his head in understanding as if to say that he had finally grasped the lesson that his father had been trying to impart. Feeling a sense of relief wash over him, Ned gave his son a reassuring pat on the shoulder and smiled. He knew that parenting was never easy, but moments like these made it all worth it.

Ned sighed wearily. He was hoping everyone had forgotten what Bran had said about Jon being with Princess Rhaenys in the gardens and alone.

As House Stark finished their meal, the sound of clinking utensils subsided, and they all rose from their seats, eager to continue with their day. However, before Robb Stark could make his way out of the room, his father approached him with a serious expression etched on his face. With a firm hand on his son's shoulder, Ned spoke in a tone that brooked no argument. "Robb, we need to talk," he said, his voice devoid of its usual warmth and affection. The young Stark knew from experience that his father was not simply making a polite suggestion; this was an order that could not be ignored.

As Robb's lips parted, his face twisted with a hint of defiance, ready to voice his objections. However, before he could form a coherent sentence, Ned's sturdy grip on his shoulder tightened, sending a wave of discomfort through Robb's body, causing him to wince involuntarily.

"Now," Ned ordered with cold eyes like the Wall. Robb reluctantly nodded before following his father behind. As Robb walked away, Wynafryd's gaze lingered on his broad, retreating back. The memory of finding him in the arms of another woman after the Melee still stung, and she felt a familiar ache rise in her chest. Her eyes began to fill with tears, hot droplets threatening to spill over as she recalled the sight of him kissing that lady. Wyna didn't know her name, but that day she had felt heartbroken to know that Robb would always think of someone else even if they married and were together.

As Ned slowly turned the knob and opened the door of his dimly lit chamber, the creaking of the hinges echoed through the cold, empty hallway. His son, with a hesitant gait, walked inside and closed the door behind him, the air heavy with unspoken tension. A look of guilt was etched all over his face, yet he remained silent, unwilling to meet his father's gaze. Ned stood still, his piercing eyes fixed on his son, but no words were spoken. The silence was deafening. The only sound that could be heard was the haunting howl of the wind outside as it whipped and whirled through the barren trees. As Ned lowered his tall frame onto his sturdy, wooden chair, his piercing gaze bore into his son with a weight that could be felt throughout the room that made him stiffen; Robb knew that his father's disappointment was palpable, and he couldn't help but feel small and insignificant in his presence.

"Robb, tell me, what did you promise me before leaving Winterfell?" The sound of his father's voice brought Robb back to the present, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He couldn't handle seeing his father's face right now. He had promised to be better; instead, he had... Robb inhaled deeply before looking up at his father with as much bravery as he could muster.

"That I would become a Lord that you would be proud of, that I will never look at ladies that didn't belong to me," Robb repeated with a heavy voice.

"Indeed, might I know what has happened between you and Lady Wynafryd? Tell me, son. Has she insulted you in any way? Has she insulted your honor, the honor of House Stark?" Ned questioned. He hunched forward, his hands resting on the desk in front of him.

"No. She has done nothing. Lady Wyna is a lovely lady. She's beautiful and kind. She's everything anyone can ask for." Robb answered, feeling like punching himself.

"Then," Ned prompted with a heavy voice as he stood up. The sun peeked through the window behind Ned; his body cast a long and imposing shadow that stretched across the room. The sun's rays danced on the walls, illuminating every corner of the space. Robb, could not help but feel small in the face of the shadow that loomed over him, cast by his father's larger and more formidable figure.

"How come I hear that you have been seeing another lady?" Ned demanded coldly, glaring at his son, who looked downwards, not baring to look at him.

"Do you have any idea what might happen if House Manderly finds out? Do you want to bring shame to House Stark?" Ned almost roared, his voice echoing through the walls. Robb gulped. He had never heard his father speak to him like that ever before.

"I-I-I-" "You know, but you don't care, and that's even worse. You're no child anymore. You're a grown man. My sister Lyanna, as much as I love her. Her love for King Rhaegar was the main reason why thousands of people died in the rebellion. Your uncle and grandfather died because they thought Rhaegar had kidnapped Lyanna." Ned stood up from the chair, making his way around the desk before slowly approaching Robb, who was still looking at the floor.

"I won't have you dishonor House Stark. I won't have you put the lives of your siblings at risk for your selfish desires. This is the last time I have heard about this. You're forbidden from ever meeting this girl in private." Ned ordered with a voice that made it clear that he would not argue; Robb's face lifted, revealing a hint of anger as he prepared to protest his father's decision. However, before a single word could escape his lips, his father's piercing gaze silenced him, leaving his words trapped in his throat like a prisoner in a jail cell.

"Do you understand me?" Ned asked firmly, glaring at his son, who looked away before reluctantly nodding his head. "I do."

"Good. Who is the lady you're seeing?" Ned asked, hoping to God that his son hadn't dishonored her.

"L-Lady Alyanna Dayne." Robb reluctantly answered.

Ned nodded impassively, the same girl he had seen that day coming from Robb's chamber. "Have you laid with her?" Ned asked bluntly. Unlike the South, the North preferred to get straight to the point. He prayed his son hadn't made the same mistake he had done.

"...No," Robb answered after a short pause.

"Good. Now, go and spend time with your betrothal." Ned commanded before bringing his son into a hug. Much to Robb's surprise, he expected his father to threaten him to drop him from the line of succession, but not this.

"Robb, I won't be around forever. I need to know that you will rule The North, as will your sons, and your son's son, and so on. That you won't put your family and the North in danger with your foolishness." Ned spoke to Robb with a hint of vulnerability.

Robb heard those words again. He knew for sure there was something his father wasn't telling him, something he was keeping hidden.

"Father, why are you talking like this?" Robb asked, almost pleading, a part of him fearing that his father would soon leave them.

Ned stepped away, and soon everyone would know the truth. The Jousting would be two days later. Once the Jousting was over, Ned knew his trial would be, and then be executed for crimes against House Targaryen. There was no escaping this. He knew he wouldn't grow to see his children grow old. He wouldn't be there to see Robb had his children. To be a Grandfather.

"Robb," he beseeched, his voice heavy with emotion. "Just promise me, my son, that you will not make the same mistakes that I did. Swear to me that you will uphold the honor of House Stark and never bring shame upon our name." Ned requested, looking directly at his son's eyes, searching for any sign of him being dishonest.

Robb wanted to ask why his father was asking him that, what he wasn't telling him, but he could hear it from his voice; Robb knew his father had expectations and knew The North needed a good lord. Robb knew he could be a good Lord just like his father and his father before him, even if it meant he would never see her again. "I Swear," Robb promised after a short pause. Ned nodded in acceptance.

"Okay."

Later

After his talk with Robb, he felt as if his footsteps were lighter. He saw his son joining Lady Wynafryd, kissing her on the lips before she could even start talking. The poor lady had turned red before following Robb behind.

Ned asked Robb if he knew where he could meet Lady Alyanna. His son reluctantly told him that they were supposed to meet in the stable of Harrenhal, where the horses were kept, saying that Alyanna loved to ride horses and was even better than Robb.

Ned decided to wait in front of the stable, relishing in the cool breeze that brushed against his face. It didn't take long for him to see her, she was wearing a hoodie, but Ned knew it was her. Despite the way she was walking, wanting no one to pay attention to her, Ned could see right through her.

As soon as she approached, Ned cleared his throat to gain her attention. "Lady Alyanna. I'm Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell. Can we talk?" His request hung in the air, and he watched as Alyanna looked at him from under the hem of her hoodie. For a moment, she hesitated, but then she slowly removed the hoodie, revealing her stunning dark hair and captivating violet eyes.

Ned felt his heart skip a beat. She looked exactly like Ashara, and the more reason he hoped she wasn't who he thought she was, he doubted neither Robb nor Alyanna knew the truth about each other. If she was who he thought, then he didn't know how Robb would react. Escaping his thought, his grey eyes found her violet ones.

Alyanna's eyes darted back and forth as she stood before Ned. She spoke courteously, her voice soft and measured, but there was a slight quiver to it that betrayed her nerves. Ned could sense the tension in the air as he looked down at her. His expression was unreadable. "What do you want to talk about, my lord?" she asked. Despite her efforts, however, the nervousness in her voice was impossible to conceal completely, and Ned could see the uncertainty in her eyes as she waited for his response.

"Can we talk away from prying ears?" Ned suggested. The girl simply nodded without much protest. Ned led her to the god's wood of Harrenhal. Not many people visited the place South of the Neck. People followed the Seven.

The gentle rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds drowned out the outside world's noise, allowing Ned to fully immerse himself in the serene atmosphere. His eyes wandered over the dense foliage, taking in the vibrant shades of red that seemed to dance in the dappled sunlight. As if on cue, he turned to find Alyanna standing beside him, her gaze fixed on the majestic Weirwood Tree that stood tall and proud in the center of the clearing. There was something eerie and unsettling about the face that had been meticulously carved into the tree's bark, as if it were a living, breathing creature staring back at her with its piercing red eyes. The intricate details of the carving were truly astounding. As she stood there, gazing up at the face, she couldn't shake the feeling that the tree was watching her every move.

Its bark was smooth and cool to the touch, and as her hand slowly slid across the white skin of the tree, she couldn't help but marvel at the intricate face carved into it. Then, moving her hand away, Alyanna turned to face Lord Eddard Stark,

"My Lord, I suppose this is about your son, Robb Stark?" Alyanna asked with courtesy, getting straight to the point. She knew what she had with Robb would not last that long. A part of her wanted to believe that Robb would propose to her and her mother would accept, uniting House Stark and House Dayne, but a part of her knew that was wishful thinking. Her mother wanted her to marry in the Reach, saying they were powerful and wealthy.

"No," Ned answered. He had talked with Robb. No, he wanted to get to the bottom of who Alyanna was.

"No?" Alyanna repeated. She was genuinely surprised. She had expected Lord Stark to tell her to stay away from Robb.

"My lady, I know this might sound strange, but who is your mother?" Lord Stark asked, feeling his heart beating in his throat, his throat dry. He could see Ashara in her, but a part of him didn't want to admit that Ashara had lied to him about their daughter.

"Lady Ashara Dayne, my Lord."

Ned felt his breathing rapid, his head was spinning, he didn't even know what to feel anymore, his heart felt like it would burst from his chest, his daughter was alive, but why did Ashara hide her from me, Ned thought, he could feel his anger rising to the surface, threatening to overwhelm him entirely. He desperately sought out something to cling to, a lifeline to prevent himself from toppling over and losing all control. Without a second thought, his hand shot out and grabbed hold of the nearest object, which happened to be a sturdy branch of the Weirwood Tree. The rough bark scraped against his palm as he leaned heavily against it, his knees shaking and threatening to buckle beneath him. He didn't know how he was even standing.

"My Lord?" Alyanna called him with concern. Seeing his face suddenly pale, she walked up to him, looking at him from up close. Ned didn't know why. But he was smiling. He felt something wet on his cheeks. Am I crying? Ned thought, wiping away the tears. He quickly gained back his composure, his breathing slowly turning back to normal.

"I'm fine." Ned rasped, straightening himself up before leaning away from the Weirwood Tree, his eyes looking back at Alyanna, a part of him wanted to know more about his daughter, to ask her everything, to hug her, to kiss her cheeks, to treat her like his daughter, but the bigger part wanted answers from Ashara, and he would get them.

"Lady Alyanna. I'm sorry for bothering you. I just needed to confirm something, but I need to talk with Lady Ashara. Is there any way I can speak with her?" Ned spoke softly to her.

Alyanna furrowed a brow, wondering why Lord Stark wanted to talk with her mother, but she couldn't see the problem with it. She had heard the rumors of Her mother dancing with Lord Stark during the Tourney. She didn't know who her father was, and she had heard the rumors that Lord Eddard Stark was her father, that he had seduced her mother during the Tourney of Harrenhal before Robert's Rebellion. Still, when she had asked her mother about who her father was, she had only answered that her father was dead.

"Of course. My lord, but my mother is currently busy with Queen Elia. I think you can meet later with her." Alyanna answered with courtesy, a smile on her face.

Ned nodded, a part of him wanted to ask her about her life, if she was happy, what she wanted, and many other things, but Ned restrained himself from doing so. Instead, he took a deep breath.

"Thank you, my lady. I'm sorry for taking so much of your time." 

Later

After his talk with Alyanna, it didn't take long for her to return and inform him that her mother had accepted and would meet him in the gardens of Harrenhal. During dusk, Ned felt a pang in his heart. After his first dance with Ashara so many years ago, she had invited him for another dance in the gardens of Harrenhal. Now, here he was, meeting at the same time, at the same place.

' "You're not a bad dancer, my lord. Tell me, do all Wolves know how to dance like you?" Ashara asked with a beautiful smile stretching on her lips as she and Ned danced around the garden of Harrenhal. Everyone else was at the feast except Ned and Ashara. The sun slowly disappeared on the horizon, casting a red glow around the landscape. Ash couldn't remember the last time she had enjoyed the sunset as much as now.

Ned was trying hard not to step on her feet during their dancing. "I might be a wolf. But I like to do fun things. Dancing with a lady like you is something I quite enjoy." Ned didn't know where that came from, but he hoped his words hadn't offended the lady.

"Ohh, I'm happy that you're enjoying spending your time with me, my lord," Ashara said with a lusty tone, her voice like the sweetest melody in his ears, as she leaned in closer to him, her breath mingling with his own. Ned swallowed, feeling like prey from her intense, beautiful violet eyes, which seemed to pierce through him. She was undoubtedly the most beautiful lady he had ever seen. He had seen many ladies in the South, even Queen Elia, but none held a candle to Ashara. Her long, flowing locks of dark hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing her delicate features, while her violet eyes shone with a brilliance that could rival the stars. The soft curves of her figure were accentuated by her elegant gown, and with every step she took, she seemed to glide effortlessly as if she were dancing on air.

After dancing until they got tired, Ned felt his legs burn a little, but it was all worth it. Dancing with Ashara had been something he wanted to do again and again. He offered to walk her back to her tent.

"Ohh, a strong lord like you wants to be alone with a maiden like me." Leaning closer, she whispered in his ear, "Perhaps you want more than just a walk." The sound of her voice sent shivers down his spine as he felt her soft lips brush against his neck. Her seductive touch was driving him mad, and he could barely resist the temptation of her alluring presence. 

Ned took a deep breath, trying to calm down his nerves. He had never been with a lady before, despite how many times Robert had tried to convince him to go with him to one of the many brothels he had been to. Ned had refused. He wanted to sleep only with the love of his life, no one else. Ned was tempted, but this was the first night he wanted to get to know her, and he wanted his father's permission to marry her before laying with her.

"It's tempting, my lady, but I would like to get to know you first," Ned spoke; Ashara's expression shifted, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before she quickly composed herself and quirked a smile.

The cool night breeze was blowing softly, and the stars twinkled in the dark sky as he turned to her and said, "I would love it if you walked me back to my tent." Her heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him, and then she smiled and took his arm, feeling a warm tingling sensation in her fingertips as they began to walk together. The moon was full, and the garden was quiet as they strolled along, talking and laughing softly, enjoying each other's company as they made their way back to her campsite.

On their walk back to her tent, Ned would ask about Dorne, about the beautiful places in Dorne, and many other things. Ashara was quite pleased that he wanted to know more about her, and she could tell he was listening to her every word.

The moment they arrived at her tent, she extended her hand toward him, offering a warm and welcoming gesture. He took her hand in his, gently brushing his lips against her knuckles, causing a flutter of excitement to course through her veins. The touch of his lips sparked an intense fire within her. She licked her lips seductively, her eyes locking onto his as she felt her body ignite with passion and desire. 

"Have a Good Night, my Lady," Ned said with a smile, about to turn around and walk back to his tent when she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, her lips moved on their own, giving him a peck kiss, it completely took Ned off guard, his face turning red, but the smile never leaving his face.

"Good Night, my Lord," Ashara said sweetly; Ned smiled at her before walking away, almost in haste. '

Ned reached the clearing in the garden. It was a square clearing. The trees had grown around the clearing, making it hard for anyone outside to see what was happening inside. The trees themselves had grown in an almost magical way, creating a natural dome of intertwining branches that allowed for the perfect amount of sunlight to filter through, casting a warm and inviting glow onto the lush greenery below.

Ned sat on a brench. Hearing the birds chirping was very relaxing; Ned could hear the gentle trickle of a nearby fountain, which added to the already peaceful ambiance of the garden. As he watched, he noticed birds landing on the fountain's edge before dipping their beaks into the water for a refreshing drink. It was a beautiful sight that filled him with a sense of wonder and amazement at the simple yet extraordinary things that nature had to offer. As the evening began to settle in, the silence in the air was shattered by the sound of footsteps approaching from the garden corridor. From the garden, corridor walked out Ashara. She was as beautiful as Ned remembered her. She was a sight to see.

Her purple dress was a sight to behold as it flowed gracefully down to her feet, matching perfectly with her stunning violet eyes. The dress was a work of art, with intricate details that added to its beauty. At the bottom hem, red roses were carefully adorned into the fabric, creating a breathtaking contrast that caught Ned's attention. As she walked, the dress swayed elegantly, and the roses seemed to come alive, dancing to the rhythm of her movements.

"Ned, it's good to see you." Ashara greeted him with the same sweet smile he remembered; Ned wanted to say the same. He hadn't seen her since the tourney of Harrenhal. After the tourney, he had only received letters, and after the rebellion, after the "death" of their daughter, the letters had stopped altogether.

"Ashara, you are as beautiful as I remembered," Ned said sincerely, standing up from the bench, fully facing her; Ashara smiled, pleased by his words, but Ned kept his stoic face.

"Ashara, who is Alyanna?" he demanded, his voice echoing through the garden. Although he knew the answer to his own question, he felt the need to hear it from Ashara's mouth to confirm his suspicions and clear any doubts that may have lingered in his mind. The tension in the air was palpable as Ashara hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting from Ned to the floor before finally meeting his gaze. Ned knew Alyanna was his daughter, no one else. Despite her dornish features, Ned could see the Stark features on her face. They were as clear as day for someone like Ned.

"...Your daughter," Ashara answered after a long pause. Ned closed his eyes, feeling a wave of sadness, happiness, and anger washing over his body like cold water. After a whole minute of silence, nothing but the sounds of birds flying around the garden, Ned looked directly at Ashara's violet eyes.

"Why?" Ned demanded, his voice colder than the Wall.

As Ashara parted her lips to speak. "Why, Ash?" he almost shouted, knowing he had to hold back. He didn't want to lash out and say something he might regret later. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and forced his anger to subside. He knew that losing control would only make things worse, and he didn't want to hurt Ashara

"Our daughter. You let me believe that she was stillborn for fourteen years. You let me believe that our sweet daughter was gone forever. Why? I had the right to know about her, to at least know about her. To know that you weren't alone all those years." Ned demanded with a heavy heart, his eyes welling up with tears. How much he had wanted to meet Ashara again since the moment he understood he would go to Harrenhal, he had dreamed of her, what their reunion would be like. Instead, it was this.

With a heavy heart, Ashara cast her gaze downwards, her eyes brimming with tears as she felt the weight of guilt bearing down on her. Ned's stern words echoed in her mind, reminding her that she had made a grave mistake, a mistake that had hurt him deeply.

"I wanted to tell you. When I learned that you married the trout, I was angry with you. I know none of that was your fault, but I still blamed you." Ashara mumbled, looking up at Ned, her eyes red from crying.

Ned swallowed hard to calm his nerves. He looked away from her, his hands opening and closing, breathing in and out.

"That is not an excuse Ashara. Do you have any idea how much I blamed myself?" Ned finally spoke, his voice heavy with grief, as he looked at her.

"Every night, I would dream of her and you. How much I hated that I broke my promise. That our daughter was dead. How many times have I thought that me leaving you had affected you and that it had resulted in the death of our daughter? You allowed me to think for fourteen years that I killed her." Ned added, trying very hard not to cry.

Ashara looked devastated. "I-I wanted to tell you a month after the rebellion ended, but then I heard you had a bastard son..." "Jon is not mine," Ned spoke the words before he could even stop them from leaving his mouth.

Ashara looked at him with confusion before her eyes widened as if she had figured something out. "Brandon!"

"No. Jon is my nephew, but he's not mine nor Brandon." Ned confirmed, knowing there was no point in hiding the truth anymore. Ned knew he was a walking dead man. He could almost feel the blade on his neck, knowing soon his head would be in a spear somewhere.

Ashara's eyes widened, her breathing rapid. "Ned, what have you done. Elia She will. Rhaegar, he will-" "Execute me. I know. I made my peace with it. But I don't care about that now." Ned interrupted her before walking up to her. He still felt furious, but he knew that he didn't want to waste the time he had left by being angry. He didn't want the time to be lost with him blaming Ashara. He knew the past couldn't be changed no matter how much he yelled. All he could do now was spend the time he had left how he wanted, and learning more about Alyanna was one of them.

"I don't want to talk about anything else, Right now. I would like to know more about our Alyanna."

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