Chapter Two

Howland Reed, Arthur discovered, was a man of exceeding practicality and general exasperation with the world. He found himself appreciating this more and more, as the Lord of Greywater Watch dryly pointed out the soldier's inability to feed a babe and paid for the services of a local wet nurse. The two men and the accompanying maid had relocated to an inn some miles away from the Tower, with Eddard riding ahead to arrange for someone to pick up and transport his sister's bones to Winterfell.

"The wet nurse agreed to travel with us as far as Riverland," Howland reported, arriving to the sitting room of their rented space. "You, girl, have you any wish to go with us?"

The young woman of four-and-ten shook her head, trembling hands clasped together. "No, m'lord. My mother and brothers live near here and I would like to stay with them."

"Very well, then." The man reached into his bag and withdrew a small coin purse. "For your silence."

The woman's eyes widened in pleasure and she bobbed a grateful curtsy. A second later and she had left the room, as Howland took a seat. "Have you chosen on a name then, Dayne?"

"Sand," the knight corrected softly. He still wore his bloodied clothing from earlier, carefully wrapping the white cloak on the Kingsguard into a hastily prepared trunk, and added to this a half-face mask. The material was dark yet porous, allowing him to breathe more easily, and tied around his face by thread torn from Lady Lyanna's dresses. Before they had left, Arthur had made sure to strip the Tower of a few of its valuables, including papers and letters between the lovers, some of Lady Lyanna's jewelry, a few books on House Targaryen, and one of Rhaegar's harps. He hoped to show them to the little princess one day.

"I will be Edric Sand, bastard-born soldier of Dorne and brother to a local tavern wench that Lord Stark took a shine to. As my niece would be the last member of my family alive, I chose to surrender to his service in order to raise her."

Howland nodded thoughtfully. "Eh, not a bad tale to spin. Perhaps not Eddard's bastard though."

"The girl looks too much like a Stark to hide her heritage," Arthur pointed out. It was a little depressing actually, how only her eyes and mayhaps the curve of a chin reflected Prince Rhaegar.

"Lady Stark would be more than displeased should her lord husband bring his bastard to their home," Howland reminded him, "Better a betrayal from a dead betrothed than a live husband."

"Brandon Stark would not have been in Dorne for the time of conception and Lyarra is too young."

"Then the child was conceived further north. Brandon had not his brother's honor, he would have done so. She was born smaller than average. Does her size really matter? No one pays attention to a girl."

Arthur frowned. Of that, he was well aware. Dorne was perhaps the most liberated of the region, in regards to a woman's ability to fight and defend herself but even they had their prejudices. "She is not just a girl. She is a Targaryen princess and she will grow to be more than some nameless lord's wife."

Howland raised his hands. "Peace. My wife has been trained to fight as well."

The knight subsided and looked to the door. "Is the woman done?"

Rather than wait for an answer, Arthur Dayne, now Edric Sand, rose from his seat and strided towards the door. The wet nurse had indeed finished and the little princess was now dozing quietly on the bed. With her eyes closed, there was no trace of the bloodline that would have her killed had others known.

Edric adjusted the blankets around her body- Targaryen's were warm by touch, there was no need for so many- and pushed back her few curls. "Sleep well, little dragon. Your knight shall guard you here."

Lyarra was given a half-day's more of sleep before her uncle arrived, face even more severe than usual after the grim task that he had to arrange. His face lightened a little when he saw the two inexperienced warriors try to handle his niece. Arthur was reverentially if nervously cradling the babe while a skeptical Howland poked her belly in apparent wonderment over the inside curve. Lyarra had been stripped of her dusty shift but the men were not entirely certain how to equip another.

"If we wrap it around her legs, then it would protect them from injury on the road."

"That would save us no excess cloth for the arms."

"It would give her warmth-"

"-That's what the blanket is for."

"Shall I call on the wet nurse then?" Eddard suggested, amusedly poking the babe's belly button as well and receiving a gummy smile for his troubles. The woman was summoned at once and pursed her lips at the sight of the child.

"We have completed some of the work already." Howland poked the knight now and Arthur reluctantly handed over the babe.

"Thank you for your work, m'lords." The wet nurse's tone was unimpressed as she promptly undressed Lyarra again.

After that inadvertent lesson in humility, Lyarra and her wet nurse were escorted to a wheelhouse and the group rode forward. They eventually came to a break in the road where Howard left to join the main Northern forces. Eddard and Edric pressed onwards to Starfall, the former filled with dread to meet his old flame and the latter quite more so, if not for the same reason.

The road to Starfall was lined with palm trees on either side, arching forward to a natural heart-shape from the heavy fruit weighing it down. The yellow-white sand bricks of the ancestral Dayne home rose up ahead: painted walls of rich violet and sunset orange, tall windows framed in gauzy curtains, terraced floors filled with potted greens and glass murals pressed into sunken walls. The home was surrounded by a thin gate of black iron, meant more for show than defense, and manned by a single guard. Rather than head there, Edric moved to one of the side paths branching off the main road and led the way to a more fortified gate.

There was a ringing bell there that summoned a servant woman. She seemed skeptical of the medallion pressed to her hands- simple bronze embossed with the Dayne sigil- but allowed them in. They were led to one of the smaller, more intimate meeting halls and offered seats in the low couches present. The wet nurse accepted, with the babe held to her arms, but Eddard and Edric both chose to stand. As they waited for the Lord of the House, his elder brother Aaron, to appear, Edric wondered if he would be recognized.

The servant appeared again with glasses of orange and pineapple juice and fresh dates, all refused by them. His older brother, whose beard was beginning to show signs of grey, appeared soon after. Surprisingly enough, his sister, Ashara, followed behind, her thick brown hair held back in a black widow's scarf.

Aaron's eyes barely acknowledged him before falling into a glare at the sight of Eddard. No doubt his fury was partially borne of Elia and her babes' death, as he was a close friend of Prince Oberyn. In comparison, Ashara couldn't seem to bare to look at Lord Stark or the child, and was staring at him and his unusual appearance instead. Edric braced himself to be dismissed by his younger sister.

"Arthur?" Ashara's voice was the picture of confusion, "Why are you wearing that silly mask?"

"Arthur?!" His elder brother's head whiplashed to him now. His eyes squinted for a second and then he strode forward to embrace him. "By the Gods, it is you! You're alive!"

"Hello brother, sister," Edric said, throat tightening. "You were not supposed to recognize me."

"You have our mother's hair, our father's build, and our grandmother's eyes," Ashara responded, rushing forward to embrace him too. "How could we not recognize our own kin? I missed you so."

"I missed you as well, sweet sister." He drew back to look at her more closely. There were dark rings around her eyes and a brittleness to her smile that hadn't been there four moons past. The last time, he had seen her… his eyes fell to her stomach. It had almost returned to its previous state.

Ashara hands on his doublet tightened briefly. "Say nothing, brother," she whispered in his ear.

'She lost the baby. Her daughter and-' Arthur's eyes flickered to the man behind him. 'Ned will never even know he was supposed to have a second child.'

His sister stepped back, chin raised, defiant and proud, every inch the royalty that their Targaryen great-grandmother had been. Her eyes moved past Eddard again, fell on the babe in the chair, and welled up in tears. "Is that the one? Elia's stepchild?"

"Elia's stepchild?" Aaron echoed, face slack in realization, "The Dragon's whore had a damn child?!"

Eddard bristled. "Do not call my sister a whore."

"I will call her whatever I damn well like," the Lord of Starfall replied, "If it hadn't been for her own foolishness, we would have never had this war!"

"She would have no reason to be foolish if a married man eight years her senior had no cause to seduce her!" The Lord of Winterfell returned the glare with equal anger and it may have come to blows, had Edric not intervened.

"That's enough, brother! This is Rhaegar's last child, Queen Visenya of Houses Targaryen and Stark, Second of Her Name, Queen of the Anda-" He could not complete his introduction for two near identical snorts of derision from the other men in the room.

"Aegon Targaryen was the rightful heir to the throne not this bastard daughter of Rhaegar's!"

"Her name is Lyarra Snow and we have agreed that she will not challenge Robert for the throne!"

"You're calling Elia's step daughter a bastard?" Ashara demanded, appalled, "Prince Rhaegar had married Lady Lyanna in the Isle of Faces!"

She received three identical stares of shock at that protest and pursed her lips in response. "Elia was aware of Rhaegar's fascination was Lady Lyanna. It broke her heart but she allowed him to pursue her for reasons beyond my understanding. She had planned to help raise any child that Lyanna had."

Aaron was the first one to break the silence. "Sister, why would the Princess ever do such a thing?"

"I don't know," Ashara admitted, "When pressed, Elia would only say that the dragon must have three heads. I know that she was devastated when the Maester told her that her womb was barren. Perhaps she merely wanted another child to raise, even if it should be a she-wolf's pup?"

'Princess Elia was aware of Lady Lyanna all along?' Edric thought, bewildered. 'How could she not have said anything? Why would she protect the woman that stole her husband and her children's father?'

He could see that his elder brother and Eddard Stark shared his current confusion. Ashara ignored all of them to step closer to the child, her face a strange cast between longing, regret and affection. She took a seat beside the servant woman and accepted the babe with gentle arms. His sister had clearly chosen to deny both Rhaegar and Lyanna's roles in the child's conception, instead regarding her as the daughter that Elia should have raised.

The men sat not far from her and his brother drew his attention. "What do you plan to do, brother?"

Edric explained the tale that he had formed with Howland Reed, receiving contemplative nods from the other two and a snort from his sister. "Is there something that amuses you so, sweet sister?"

"Merely the idea of you pretending to be some common baseborn soldier, brother," Ashara returned dryly. "You have not the temperament nor skill to pretend a commoner's life."

"I would have to agree with our sister," Aaron added, apologetically to his indignation, "You received a nobleman's education. Your manner of speech, skill with a blade, confident stride… all will reveal you faster than the Dayne look so prominent on your person."

"I don't suppose you have your own ideas then? And no, we shall not leave the princess here."

"Prince Oberyn should be allowed to meet his sister's stepdaughter," Aaron stated.

"Perhaps when his ire cools from the Princess' death, we can afford to arrange an introduction."

"We should not be arranging anything," Ned said fiercely, "Already there are too many people aware of her parentage. Another man will increase the risk and this one will be compelled by vengeance to risk Lyarra's life!"

"If that is your wish, then we shall not tell him presently," Edric soothed.

"I have another suggestion for Lady Lyarra's background. She will be my daughter," Ashara stated firmly. "My child with… with Brandon, born late in term and sent north with her uncle to protect my reputation. She may continue to carry the name 'Sand' until the Lord Dayne's anger cools enough to adopt her to our House. As House Dayne still intends to cultivate this relation, a sword sworn from one our most loyal bannerman, House Newland, will accompany her."

"It is a fine background, sister. I shall accept our House's name to be used to protect the babe."

"I suppose it doesn't hurt that House Dayne is given a close connection to the last Targaryen in Westeros," Eddard snarked.

Aaron smirked. "No, it does not. Though you should thank us for this, Lord Stark. The child may take after her mother but there is enough Targaryen blood there, that you would benefit from the Daynes."

There was some additional argument but the group finally accepted Ashara's proposal. As Edric stood to fetch some of his own things to take to the North, he heard Eddard approach his sister.

"Ashara, please let me speak to you…" The Northerner sounded desperate.

"I don't believe that there is anything left to say, Lord Stark." His sister's voice was as dry and ruthless as the desert sands of their home.

'Now there is one conversation that I wish nothing with,' Edric shuddered slightly, and promptly headed out. Before he crossed the door, a thought occurred to him and he looked over at the wet nurse. She sat there, pale and bewildered, but her ears appeared to work well enough.

Edric caught his brother's eye. Aaron nodded curtly and he headed upstairs. It would be handled.

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