Jaehaera spun and her blade clashed with Jon's. She took a step back, leading him on, and knocked his blade from his hands, tripping the bastard as she did so. She stared at him lying on his back in the mud, resting her hands on the pommel of her own sword. Jon shut his eyes and his head dropped back against the ground, she'd defeated him yet again and Robb was there to witness it. "When did you get so slow?" their brother chided, offering his hand to Jon.

"I've seen her knock you on your ass more times than I can remember." He retaliated as Robb pulled him up.

"Seems neither of us are able to beat our sister." Robb grinned, the two of them looking at her.

"And never will." She told them, turning her back.

She heard their footsteps on the ground before she saw them, the shining metal of a shield reflecting Jon's raised arms and the blade in his hand. She deflected his strike with one move, twisting on her feet to balance herself as Robb attacked from her left, their swords ringing off each other as they dueled. Jaehaera took them both on easily, knocking them back so she could take on a defensive stance. She noticed Arya watching nearby, a smile on her face as she watched her sister be the woman she wanted to become. Her brothers attacked again, both at the same time in the hopes of overwhelming her. Jaehaera ducked under Jon's swipe and locked swords with Robb, kicking him in the chest to throw him off so she could deflect Jon's second attack. "That's enough." They looked up and saw their father watching from the wooden balcony. He didn't need to say anything more. Jaehaera shouldn't be out here in the first place, she should be inside with her sister.

She passed her sword to Robb and ruffled Bran's hair when she passed him, his bow in hand. Jaehaera walked into the keep and skipped up a set of stairs, pushing open a door and stepping into her room so she could change into something a little more appropriate. She swapped her tunic and breeches for a woolen dress, settling into it nicely before walking back out and finding Sansa with the other ladies, a needle in her hand like always. "What are we making today?" Jaehaera smiled, "A rose?"

"What do you think?" the young lady asked, her blue eyes looking up at her.

"I think it's lovely." Jaehaera grinned, kissing Sansa on the top of her head, "Your work always looks lovely."

"Where are you going?" Sansa called after Jaehaera as she began to leave the room.

"The library."

"You're always in the library."

"Knowledge is power little sister." Jaehaera winked and closed the door behind her, skipping down some steps and into the old room.

She was greeted by the smell of dust, Maester Luwin sat in a wooden chair beside a table, already covered with books. "And what shall we be borrowing today, Mistress Stark?" he asked gravelly, lifting his old eyes to look at her.

Jaehaera shuffled between the shelves, running her finger across the tomes. She'd spent most of her life in this library, books were a passion of hers and she entertained the idea of one day being a writer. She didn't know why, but her feet directed her towards the history books, the spines worn and used, something inside her reached out for a familiar book, "The Dance of Dragons." She murmured, reading the title.

"Again?" Luwin seemed surprised, and Jaehaera detected something more in his tone, something she couldn't put her finger on.

Jaehaera had remembered reading this book many years ago, when she was younger. She flipped to the end and ran her finger down the page, the ink bumpy under her touch, old and smudged in some parts. "Jaehaera Targaryen." She read, moving closer to Luwin at the table, "A sweet and simple girl, her death ending the line of Viserys I and Alicent Hightower, leaving only the line of Rhaenyra Targaryen to rule the Iron Throne."

"Why this one?" Luwin asked curiously, closing the book he was holding.

"The Targaryens ruled Westeros for centuries, their ancestry intrigues me."

"No, no, my dear." Luwin smiled, "Why this Targaryen?"

She smiled gently, "She shares my name." Jaehaera answered truthfully, "Don't you think that's fascinating?"

Luwin frowned, "Think what is fascinating?"

"Why my parents saw fit to give their eldest daughter the name of a Targaryen."

"I think it merely coincidence." He reached up the table and picked up a thick volume, "Why not try your hand at this one?"

Jaehaera put down the Dance of Dragons and took the book from him, opening the cover to the first page, "It's in Valyrian." She noticed, looking up at him.

"And how comes your Valyrian?"

"Eman daor nārhēdegon ziry, lo konir sagon skoros iksā epagon. (I have not forgotten it, if that is what you are asking.)" she replied smugly, Valyrian came easily to Jaehaera, such a beautiful language.

"Then get to it, my child." He told her, looking away and returning to his own book.

Jaehaera smiled and took the book, walking out of the library and returned to her rooms, settling in the window seat and opening the book to the first page.

Jaehaera lifted Rickon up onto a saddle to watch, a wooden sword in his hand, as Bran misfired and his arrow landed in a barrel beside the target. Jon put his hands on Bran's shoulders and leaned in, "Go on, Father's watching." He told him and the two glanced behind them, "And your Mother."

Bran knocked another arrow, drawing back the string and staring at the target for a moment. Jaehaera sighed, if he held the arrow for much longer his arm would tense up and he would be more likely to miss. Bran released the arrows and it flew over the target and into the trees behind it, Jon and Robb both laughing, Rickon joining in with a little giggle. "And which one of you was a marksman at ten?" Ned chided, silencing the two. "Keep practicing Bran, go on."

Jaehaera stepped forward and knelt beside her little brother, pushing Jon out the way, "Don't think too much, Bran." She helped him, guiding his hands as he drew back another arrow, "Relax this arm." She tapped his bow arm, "Try not to tense up."

An arrow hit the middle of the target but it wasn't Bran's, the group of siblings turning their heads to see Arya standing behind them, her own bow in hand. Jaehaera stood up, trying not to let her smile show for Bran's sake but she was impressed. Arya bowed and Bran's expression turned angry, he dropped his bow and chased after the little girl, making Jaehaera laugh. "Quick Bran! Faster!" Robb encouraged, his arms crossed.

Rickon fetched the spare arrows as Bran chased Arya, handing them to Jon and Jaehaera stepped up to Robb. "How did she get so good?" Robb asked, puzzled.

"She must have a wonderful teacher." Jaehaera replied, pretending to know nothing.

"You know Mother won't approve."

"What Mother doesn't know will not hurt her."

"Robb." Theon appeared before them and interrupted them suddenly, "Lord Stark wants you to prepare the horses, a deserter has been caught."

Jaehaera dropped her head and sighed, "Duty calls."

"He wants Bran to come too."

"Bran?" Jaehaera frowned, lifting her head, "Are you sure?" Theon nodded. "But's he's so young."

"He has to know eventually."

"You were older when you saw your first execution."

"Aye," Robb replied, "But they don't happen that often."

He left Jaehaera to go fetch the horses with Theon, Jon following after them leaving Jaehaera alone in the square with Rickon. Maester Luwin took him inside and Jaehaera waited until her father and brothers had left the walls before following, returning to the warmth of the keep.

Rickon burst in on her several hours later, out of breath and with an excited look on his face "Hera you have to come quickly, Father's brought us something!" he exclaimed, grabbing her hand and dragging her down to the square where she found the rest of her siblings.

"Are those…?"

"Direwolves." Her father finished for her, "Enough for each of you." He handed a grey and white one to Sansa, "You will hold responsibility for them yourselves." Ned's tone was stern, "Feed them, train them and if they die so be it."

Bran was already holding one and went inside, leaving the others to choose. Rickon was looking up at Jaehaera eagerly and she smiled at him, gesturing for him to go ahead and take the other one from their father, Jon handing one to Arya and that left the two eldest. "Here." Robb carefully handed her a ball of fur, a deep black color, darker than night with eyes like diamonds.

She cradled him against her chest, feeling him wriggle around and smiled at Robb, "What are direwolves doing beyond the Wall?" she asked, but Robb merely shrugged. "Have you already named yours?"

He nodded, "I'm thinking Grey Wind."

"Poetic." She complimented, looking down at her own pup, "I shall have to put some thought into mine."

A few weeks passed and Jaehaera grew very fond of her direwolf, Morghul. She found the name in one of Winterfell's many books, the bound dragon to her namesake, Jaehaera Targaryen, and thought it was fitting. When her father found out her reasons it troubled him, something Jaehaera didn't understand. He suggested she call it something else but Jaehaera was set on Morghul. He grew somewhat distant from her in the next few days, worrying Jaehaera, making her think she'd done something wrong and nobody seemed to have any explanation for it. "Jaehaera." Her mother caught her the next morning, Morghul at her side, now almost as tall as a foal. "Take this to your father." Catelyn instructed and passed her a note.

Jaehaera nodded and took the note, quickly returning the book and searching for her father, leaving the Keep and eventually finding him in the godswood sitting beneath the weirwood tree. Jaehaera watched him a moment, running a cloth down the blade of his greatsword, Ice, the heirloom of the Stark family. "What is it, Jaehaera?" her father asked, startling her, and she stepped closer, holding out the note.

"A raven for you, Father." She informed him.

"Read it to me." Ned instructed, not taking his eyes from the blade.

Jaehaera broke the seal and unraveled the scroll, "It's from King's Landing," she told him, her face falling when she read the next words, "The Hand of the King, Jon Arryn, is dead."

Ned paused, finally looking up from Ice and clenched his jaw, "His death does not come lightly." He said, his tone sad and Jaehaera felt sorry for her father.

They all knew the stories. During Robert's Rebellion, the three had fought beside each other against the Mad King, Jon Arryn was like a father to Ned and Robert. Jaehaera glanced back down at the letter, frowning as she read further on, "The King is coming." She murmured as Ned returned the sword to the wolf's pelt, holding it in his hand as he stood. Jaehaera handed him the letter when he held his hand out, his expression as unreadable as always, "Father, what does that mean?"

"You're a smart girl, what do you think it means?"

Her frown deepened, "He wants you to take Jon Arryn's place."

Ned passed her, not saying anything, and left her alone in the godswood, most likely to inform the household of the King's imminent arrival. Jaehaera didn't know how she felt by the news. If Robert really did want to make her father the Hand, it would mean he would have to leave Winterfell, leave his family. She didn't want him to leave. Jon noticed the upset frown creasing her forehead when she left the godswood, walking up to her looking worried. "Hera, are you alright?" he queried, a hand on her shoulder.

"Yes." She replied, although she wasn't quite sure. "The King is coming to Winterfell."

"King Robert?" Jon seemed shocked.

"Is there another King?" Jaehaera smirked, receiving an irritated frown from him but she couldn't help herself, she needed something to lighten the mood.

"I don't know why you're so chipper, you don't know the rumors going round."

Her smirk was replaced with a frown, "What rumors?"

This time it was Jon's turn to look smug, "They say it's time the Baratheons and Starks finally joined their houses." He started to walk back to the blacksmith, "Through marriage."

Jaehaera stopped in her tracks. Jon obviously didn't take the rumors seriously, or he wouldn't be joking about such a thing, but it made Jaehaera uneasy. She knew many women married young, doing so at the behest of their fathers, but it had been the last thing on Jaehaera's mind ever since she was a child. Her father had never encouraged her to be much of a lady, leaving her to do as she wished, at least she wasn't under as much pressure as Sansa or Arya, but for some reason that fact unsettled her more. Perhaps he did so knowing what lay in her future. Perhaps he gave her such freedom because he knew she'd spend her adult life sitting beside the Iron Throne, treated as nothing more than a way of continuing the royal lineage. Jaehaera decided it was best to keep these thoughts to herself. Her father was dealing with enough right now, he didn't need Jaehaera troubling him with such nonsense. At least, she hoped it was nonsense.

Jaehaera noticed Summer, Bran's direwolf, sitting beside a wall on her way back into the Keep, staring up at something and she glanced up, seeing Bran once again climbing the walls. She grinned and continued into the Keep, Bran had always been a great climber, not that their mother approved, and she knew how much he loved it. Jaehaera sat with Sansa in her sisters rooms as she worked on her rose, chatting all the while. Jaehaera heard snippets of it, paying more attention to the flames in the fireplace than her sister, knowing she was excited by the royal families visit. If anyone was fit to be a queen it was Sansa. She was a lady, much more so than Jaehaera, but she wasn't the eldest. What lady knew how to fire a bow and wield a sword? She knew none but the sisters of Aegon the Conqueror, Rhaenys and Visenya. "Hera." Sansa was staring at her now, a little annoyed her older sister wasn't listening and Jaehaera sat up in her chair.

"What is it?"

"I asked you a question."

"I'm sorry, little sister, ask again."

"Do you think Father will let me marry Joffrey?"

"If you asked nicely." Jaehaera muttered under her breath, so Sansa wouldn't hear.

"I really hope so."

"You want to marry the Prince?" Jaehaera queried.

"Yes." Sansa insisted, "Have you not been listening to anything I said?"

The truth was she hadn't, but she didn't want to upset the girl, "You wish to leave Winterfell? Leave your home?"

"Have you not heard the stories of King's Landing? The warmth, the clothes, the ladies, it all sounds so wonderful."

Jaehaera placed her head on her hand, staring into the fire again, "The last time a Stark travelled south they were burned alive."

"Hera." Sansa whined, she hated those sorts of things, they made her upset and Jaehaera had no idea why she said it.

She apologized again and smiled at Sansa, "You're right, it does sound wonderful."

Sansa's expression dropped slightly, "You don't want to go?"

She looked deeply into the girls eyes, "Winterfell is my home, my family is here so why would I want to leave it?"

Sansa dropped Jaehaera's gaze, picking at the rose embroidered on her white cloth, "Because you'd be the queen."

"Cersei Lannister is the queen." Jaehaera reminded her.

"Not when King Robert dies, then Prince Joffrey will be king."

"Not for years to come."

"You'd be a princess though."

"Why are we talking about me when you're the one who wants the royal title?" Jaehaera smiled.

"Because I'm not stupid." Sansa huffed, her hands falling in her lap in frustration, "You're the eldest Stark, if anyone is going to marry the prince it's you."

Jaehaera's smile disappeared and she looked at Sansa again, thoroughly this time. She'd clearly heard the rumors going round and it upset her, Jaehaera had never met someone so eager to get away from here. Jaehaera got up from her chair and kneeled before Sansa, placing the embroidery aside and taking her sisters hands, looking up into her face. "Who is to say what happens." She told her softly, "All I know is that you would make a wonderful queen someday."

Sansa lifted her eyes, "Do you think so?"

"You're my little sister, of course I do." She stood up straight, kissing the top of her ginger head and Sansa wrapped her arms around Jaehaera, "I love you."

"I love you too, Hera."

Robb found her later that day, once the sun had set, with her cloak around her shoulders to fend off the night chill. She wandered into the godswood, instinctively pulling the cloak tighter around her shoulders, the fur tickling her cheeks. The weirwood tree was the same as always, trickles of red falling from blank eyes. In truth it had always freaked her out. Nevertheless she knelt before it and shut her eyes, praying. What for she had no idea, but the Old Gods would. They always knew. "You felt it too?"

Jaehaera opened her eyes and turned her head, seeing Robb approaching through the dark, his voice breaking the silence. "Felt what?" she asked, standing up.

"Something doesn't feel right."

"Because the King is coming?"

"Maybe." Robb frowned, "Why would he come now?"

"King Robert needs a new Hand."

"Then why travel all the way here? Why not summon Father to King's Landing?"

"I don't know the King's mind, Robb." Jaehaera sighed, taking his hand.

"But you do know your own." He squeezed her hand, "What do you think of all this?"

"I think Father would make a wise choice for Hand." Robb raised an eyebrow waiting for the rest. "But I do not want him to leave Winterfell."

"He should stay here, with his family."

"He can't refuse the King, Robb, you know that."

"If they are as good a friends as we're led to believe he can." Robb squeezed her hand again before letting go, "And he should."

"Jaehaera." She looked over Robb's shoulder and found Theon standing in the archway of the wood, "Lord Stark wants to see you in the hall."

Jaehaera smiled at Robb and stepped around him, the two walking together from the godswood, Robb leaving her once they stepped inside the Keep. Theon disappeared as Jaehaera stepped into the hall, finding Ned already there, Sansa sitting on one of the benches in front of the fire. The royal family would be arriving tomorrow, several preparations had been made, large amounts of food being made in the kitchens, the boys getting a shave from Tommy the barber and Jaehaera had a new dress for the banquet. "Is something the matter?" she asked, announcing her arrival.

"Jaehaera." Ned smiled fleetingly, "Sit down." She took a seat beside Sansa, the two of them looking at their father curiously, wondering what this was about. "A union between the Starks and the Baratheons has been in question for a long time." He started, "You know your aunt Lyanna was engaged to Robert before she died." Jaehaera frowned, holding her breath, she knew where this was going. "I doubt Robert will want to relinquish the idea of a match."

"Joffrey and Jaehaera." Sansa interrupted, "I'm right aren't I?"

Jaehaera lowered her eyes, but not before she saw something in her father's, something that made her doubt Sansa was right, only to have him confirm it. "Robert will seek to marry Joffrey and Jaehaera but I won't let that happen." Ned told them, and Sansa's eyes lit up.

"What?" Jaehaera blurted, she couldn't help herself she was completely confused.

"If Robert intends on pursuing the marriage it will be between Joffrey and Sansa." Ned further explained, "This is my one condition."

"But why?" Jaehaera demanded, "I'm your eldest daughter, Joffrey is the eldest son."

"Do not question my will, Jaehaera." Ned's tone was serious, he didn't want her questioning him, "Now go on, go to bed."

Sansa jumped up from her seat and dashed from the hall, blatantly ecstatic with the news, most likely counting the second until morning comes and she gets to greet Joffrey as his future betrothed. Jaehaera was less enthusiastic. She hadn't wanted to marry the prince, that much was clear, but she still understood why she would have to. This just left her with more questions. The fact she couldn't answer any of them frustrated her even more. Jaehaera heard the patter of rain against the stone as she walked up the stairs to her room, shutting the door gently behind her, feeling the cold wind drift into her room from the window, the shutters open from when she left them that morning. Jaehaera kicked off her boots and released her hair from the braid it was in, reaching out to close the shutters and accidentally knocking a book out the window. She breathed out irritably, annoyed for having to fetch it but she didn't want the book to get ruined in the rain. Jaehaera snatched a cloak from the back of a chair and wrapped it round her shoulders, stepping out her room in bare feet and skipping down the steps, finding her way outside and following the walls round until she came to the bit beneath her window, finding the book spread open on the ground, the rain already starting to soak into the cover. It had gotten heavier since earlier, her hair already felt drenched through. Jaehaera frowned, if her hair was so wet why wasn't her cloak? The material only felt slightly damp compared to her hair and it confused her. "Who's there?" someone called out from the darkness, nearly scaring her to death.

"Robb." She gasped, "Do not scare me like that."

"Jaehaera." Robb sounded alarmed as he approached her through the darkness, "What are you doing out here?" he grabbed her and started pulling her back towards the Keep, "You'll be soaked through."

"I dropped a book." She told him, his grip tightening on her, "It's just a little rain." She pulled herself from his grip, rubbing her arm where his hand was and saw slight panic in his eyes.

"You need to get inside." Robb ordered, staring at her hair and it worried her.

She wiped at her face, thinking there was something there, and her fingers came away dark. She didn't know what it was, but she ran her hand through her hair, believing the wetness to be the rain, but her entire hand came away black when she looked at it, fear blossoming inside her. "Robb?" she whispered, "What is this?" the fear grew in her as his eyes widened.

"Come inside." He urged and she let him pull her back into the Keep where it was dry, a fire still burning in the main hall where he led her.

"What is it?" Jaehaera demanded, shrugging off her cloak, the black substance staining her shirt. "Robb, what is this?"

"Let me fetch Father." He insisted, turning away but she grabbed his arm.

"No, tell me what's going on."

"Father can…"

"What is happening?" she interrupted, her voice rising, the fear driving through her.

"It's alright, Robb." They both looked up and saw Ned walking into the hall, a grave look on his face.

"You know something, you know what this is?" she held up her hand and her father stepped forward, taking it and running a cloth over it, wiping away the black substance.

"I've tried to keep the truth from you for eighteen years." Was all he said to her, avoiding eye contact.

"Would you just explain what this is?" Jaehaera cried, she was beginning to feel panicked and afraid, you could hear it in her voice and Ned sat her down by one of the tables.

"I think you should tell her." Robb suggested, crossing his arms and Ned looked up at him, still refusing to look at Jaehaera.

"Tell me what?" she insisted, feeling tears form in her eyes.

Ned took out the cloth again, wrapping it round some of her hair and pulling on it, drawing away some of the black substance and leaving the strands a pure silver color, revealing what lay hidden beneath. "Let me tell you a story." Jaehaera stared at her hair as he spoke, her breathing shallow, realization beginning to seep through her. "Many years ago, Robert Baratheon lay siege to the capital, the Sack of King's Landing. It brought about the end of the Targaryen rule, the death of the Mad King and his offspring. All except three. Two we knew had escaped to Dragonstone, Queen Rhaella had died giving birth to the younger. The last was just a babe, kept secret in the Red Keep by her father, only known to a few. None of them survived the rebellion. At least, that's what we wanted Robert to believe. The two surviving Targaryen's were spirited away to Essos, out of our reach but this young child was not." Ned paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, "The man who found this baby, an innocent child, could not bring himself to end her life, no matter the orders he was given, the danger he put himself in."

"No." Jaehaera breathed, "It's not possible."

"He took the child North, to his home, to raise as one of his own." Ned finally lifted his eyes to look at his eldest daughter, "To raise as Jaehaera Stark."

"No." Jaehaera cried, a tear falling, "You betrayed your king."

"I knew I could protect you here, as my daughter."

"You kept me alive, lying to me all those years, someone who could challenge his rule?"

"I told Robert the girl was dead."

Jaehaera shook her head, standing up and turning away from the two, "You lied to me."

"To protect you."

"And who would protect me if he found out who I really was?" She swiveled around to look him in the eye, "You?" she shook her head again, "He'd have you beheaded for treason, all of you."

"But you're not in danger, Robert won't find out, you are a Stark."

"I was, for eighteen years I lived a Stark but you just told me who I really am." She took a breath, the reality of it setting in, "A Targaryen."

"No." Robb stepped forward, "You are my sister."

"No, I'm not." She muttered, stepping back, "It's all just a lie." Jaehaera had no idea how she was supposed to comprehend all of this, how she was supposed to handle it. To be told one thing your entire life and then find out it was just a lie, it confused Jaehaera, she couldn't understand it. She'd always been a Stark, that was all she knew. The North, her siblings, the direwolves, she was a Stark. Jaehaera caught her reflection in the metal of a plate, already set up for tomorrow's banquet, and saw the differences now. Her golden eyes stood out. Bright compared to the dull hues of her siblings, her hair never naturally fitting, too dark compared to her family. Now she knew the truth she understood her fascination with the Targaryens, understood all the strange looks Maester Luwin gave her, all the times she felt left out were because her Stark identity was just a lie. She wasn't a Stark, she'd never been a Stark. Jaehaera couldn't accept the truth however. Accepting the truth would mean she'd grown up living a lie. "How could you do this to me?" she muttered, starting to feel her agony turn to angry.

"We were trying to protect you."

"By forcing me to live a lie?" she glared at them, "When were you going to tell me? If I hadn't stumbled into the rain tonight were you just going to carry on as if I were really your daughter?"

Ned couldn't find the words to prove her wrong, "It's more complicated than that." Was all he said and Jaehaera couldn't believe it.

She couldn't believe any of this. "Who is my family?" she asked, deadly serious, "My real family?"

"Your father was Aerys, the Mad King, and your mother was Rhaella." Ned told her, "Your brother Rhaegar and his wife, your sister by law, Elia Martell, their children Aegon and Rhaenys."

"My niece and nephew." Jaehaera breathed, the stories of their deaths suddenly flooding her mind.

"Your other brother and your sister, Viserys and Daenerys are both alive, somewhere in Essos."

"Jaehaera, none of that matters." Robb stepped closer to her, "We've always been your family, we love you."

She shook her head, "Stop." She told him, "Just stop it, don't come any closer."

"Jaehaera."

"Stop!" she cried, feeling another tear drop, "I need some time." Jaehaera turned around, stumbling out of the hall and through the corridors, her feet taking her outside and into the rain, the water washing away the black and it reminded her again of the lie she was living, revealing the silver hair beneath. It swept through her like a plague, bringing up memories from the past, proving to her more and more of the truth. She could see it throughout her entire life, the signs she wasn't really a Stark, the signs of her true blood. The ease of which she learned Valyrian, the light colors of her eyebrows, her golden eyes and light body. Even her fascination with the Targaryens. She knew all about them, their ancestry, their origins, their culture it now became difficult to deny her true identity. Jaehaera soon found herself in the godswood, the tree's face staring back at her accusingly, as if she didn't belong here. It was right. Jaehaera didn't belong here, she wasn't a Stark. The thought struck her like a rock, creating a hole in her mind, in her heart, making it even more difficult to comprehend the truth and she let tears fall freely. She felt fear and panic settle inside her, mixing with anger and confusion. She struggled with the truth, agonized over it. She wanted to refuse it, to cast it out and wished she'd never fetched the book of prophecies she'd knocked from her window. She felt her legs give out beneath her, dropping her into the grass and she clutched her legs close to her chest, a crack forcing its way into her heart. She couldn't handle the multitude of emotions battling inside her, her two identities ripping her mind apart as it tried to accept the truth.