Lyarra. That was the name of Lord Eddard Stark's mother. A northern name, a strong name. Eddard remembered his mother as a woman of strong character, as well as a homemaker. She was dedicated to her duty, but she also loved each of her children.
Lyarra. That was the name Ashara chose for her daughter with Lord Eddard—the same name as the child's grandmother. Ned was happy when he heard the news. A bitter happiness. He would have done anything to marry Ashara.
'If only Brandon were alive,' he used to think bitterly.
It wasn't that he hated his current life; in fact, he was pretty happy. The wounds of the rebellion healed with each of his children. Lady Catelyn was a kind and devoted woman, charming and deeply committed to her family. Despite the origins of their marriage, Eddard had grown to love her over time. How could he not? She had given him five beautiful children and was pregnant with the sixth.
Eddard had long since stopped dreaming of Ashara. But he could never stop dreaming of his daughter. A bastard, yes, but his blood. He couldn't imagine her face; he didn't dare. He had only heard basic things about her. A woman with olive skin, tanned by the Dornish sun, beautiful like her mother. More southern than northern, with mismatched eyes, purple and gray.
Eddard had dishonored Lyarra's mother. He had taken her without being her lord and husband and had left her pregnant with a bastard. It was not the first time he had felt guilty about it. Ashara remained unmarried in the south. And it was likely that her daughter would not be able to find a suitable husband, even if she were legitimized.
'I did wrong then.'
Eddard looked at the cradle where Rhaelle had been born moons ago.
Rhaelle Snow.
When he found out, he had wanted to send Prince Jaehaerys to the Wall, leave him there with his grandfather. He felt rage and disappointment, his daughter defiled by another man, burdened with a child and a bleak future.
He remembered how Catelyn had cried when she found out. Sansa was the best lady in her mother's eyes; she would be married to a great lord, like Willas Tyrell. Years ago Cat even discussed with Ned the possibility of a marriage between the prince and Sansa. He refused at the time.
'I should have raised him better,' he thought.
When the prince first arrived, he told himself that he would raise him well, show him affection, and try to integrate him into his family. 'He's a child, without guilt, without blood on his hands,' he repeated at the time.
But he never could. It wasn't that he hated him, nor that he mistreated him. He treated him like an unwanted guest. The prince resented him; he knew that, and he didn't blame the prince for it. He wasn't the best foster father. If he had been, the prince wouldn't have taken the maiden Sansa under his own roof.
Every time he tried to act like a father to the prince, he saw his purple eyes and white hair: dragon blood, Rhaegar's blood, the Mad King's blood.
The North remembers. And although he did not pass on his hatred to a child, he could not love him either. He was courteous and taught him enough, but not much more. He never raised him the way Jon Arryn raised him and Robert.
The fury he felt when he learned of his daughter's pregnancy subsided over time. Jaehaerys did to Sansa what he, Eddard, did to Ashara. He wanted to blame and hate him, but every time he remembered his bastard daughter in the south, it became more difficult.
Now, a more complicated issue loomed. Sansa. A woman with a bastard was only well regarded in Dorne; in the north, she was seen as tainted, dishonorable, while in the south, the Seven condemned her.
Ned loved his daughter, despite his disappointment. Catelyn had told him to send his granddaughter to Jaehaerys, to be raised and cared for. That way, Sansa would be free of any ties. She would still bear the stigma of having given birth to a bastard, but her prospects for marriage would be better.
Ned refused. Although he knew Jaehaerys and knew that, all things considered, he was a decent person, he did not realize Daenerys. He did not see how the princess would react to her husband's illegitimate daughter.
Catelyn was an incredible woman, but every time she remembered Ashara's daughter, she frowned with anger. Daenerys was a Targaryen; madness ran through her veins. Eddard would not put his granddaughter in danger. That was why he was raising her in the north, in his halls. Few knew of the girl's existence, and Eddard could keep it quiet, pass her off as the daughter of a servant or a man-at-arms. He could avoid ruining his daughter's reputation.
It wasn't honorable, but Catelyn could have convinced him to do it.
But Sansa refused. She didn't want to be separated from the little one, so even though Eddard managed to keep the baby a secret, he couldn't hide her forever.
Rhaelle herself was a strong girl, extreme. She probably inherited it from her father. Only the old gods know where Jaehaerys' strength came from. He wasn't as muscular as Robert and was perhaps stronger than the Baratheon.
"Have you thought about the options we gave you, Sansa?" Sansa was no longer a child. She was a grown woman with the ability to bring life into the world.
She needed to marry a good man. Someone honorable. Someone from the North. Eddard believed that, even with the baby, no Northerner would dare mistreat Sansa while Eddard was alive.
"I've looked at them... although I want to add one of my own," she said in a soft, low voice. The baby was asleep, and she didn't want to wake her.
"Unless you approve your mother's plan... it is likely that many lords will refuse to take your hand," he said sincerely. Sansa smiled sadly at his words.
"I know, but I believe Lord Walder Frey would gladly accept my hand," she said, looking her father in the eye.
"No," Eddard did not know what kind of nonsense his daughter was thinking. But the last thing he would ever see in his life was his bloodline mixed with that of Walder Frey. He would never see his daughter as the lady of the Twins. Walder had had so many wives and so many children that he could well populate a kingdom with his offspring alone.
"It is my wish, Father. To be Lady Frey. I think it's the best idea. I will fulfill my mother's wish for me to marry a powerful lord in the south, and I will be close enough to the north to come to Winterfell from time to time."
Eddard rubbed his temple with his fingers. His daughter's nonsense must have come from somewhere. He thought that perhaps her mother might have orchestrated this, but he didn't believe Catelyn would want to see her daughter married to Frey of all people. The man was old enough to be Sansa's great-great-grandfather.
"No... Walder Frey has had so many wives, all of whom are now dead. I will not see you next to them." Eddard would rather see her as Jaehaerys' second wife than Walder's wife.
"Father. I have made a mistake. I know that. Even though that mistake is beautiful and strong," her hand caressed the little girl's cheek. "I cannot offer a good alliance for the family, not from a prestigious family. The Freys are the best allies I can marry," she tried to reason with him.
'So you're doing this because you feel guilty, Sansa?' Eddard wondered.
The only reason Sansa would want to marry Walder Frey would be because she felt she had failed in her duty as a member of House Stark. Eddard could understand that, but even so, he would never allow it. No matter how much Walder offered for her hand, he would not give her away.
"And your daughter? Do you think Walder would allow her to live comfortably in his castle?" he tried to make Sansa reconsider.
"Rhaelle will be raised with Jaehaerys," she said softly, the baby's little face cringing when she heard her name.
"Princess Daenerys..." He didn't want to say it explicitly.
"It may not seem like the best thing for Rhaelle, but I trust Jaehaerys. He will keep his daughter safe," Sansa said firmly. "The best thing would be to invite him to the wedding and introduce him to Rhaelle then. He will raise her, he will be a good father, I know it, I always knew it."
'Jaehaerys,' the name sent shivers down his spine.
Eddard wasn't very good at politics; he found it difficult, but Sansa gave herself away at that moment.
The prince incubates dragons, moons ago; moreover, they should already be of considerable size. Eddard thought of the hopes his daughter might have.
"You think Jaehaerys will prevent your marriage to Lord Frey, right?" he asked directly, seeing his daughter's back tense up, telling him the truth.
Jaehaerys was a cautious man. He would not act solely for his own benefit, no. But if it was about Sansa, Eddard believed the prince could intervene and stop the marriage. Perhaps Sansa longed to end up like Lyanna, as the second wife of a Targaryen. The idea repulsed him less than seeing her as Lady Frey, but it still repulsed him.
Sansa smiled guiltily, her cheeks flushed as they had when she stole lemon cakes and was caught by the cooks. Such a childish gesture in a woman who was already a mother was quite charming.
"It is not right to conspire, Sansa. We are not southerners," he scolded her.
Sansa still loved the prince; even upon hearing of his marriage, she did not stop loving him. She was a little girl wanting to play the game of thrones, and Eddard knew that nothing good would come of it.
"I—" Sansa couldn't speak, and Eddard watched the tears well up in her eyes.
"Jaehaerys will not fly in on a dragon to interrupt your wedding. To do so would be disrespectful to his wife." Eddard murmured softly, even though deep down he believed Jaehaerys might do it. "This isn't a fairy tale, Sansa. There won't be a dragon prince coming for you."
"But... if it's for Rhaelle, he would come, right?" she said, looking at her daughter.
Eddard didn't fully understand Sansa's thoughts. Did she want to marry him? Did she want her daughter to be raised with him? Or did she want to see him again, perhaps to see if he had ever loved her?
"Sansa..." Eddard said nothing more, just looked at his daughter, gazing at Rhaelle as if she were the most beautiful gemstone anyone had ever seen.