That was not the case with Catelyn. She was a proud and formidable woman. Our love was built over years of effort, with our love for our children as the cement, laid brick by brick. No one in this world knows me as well as Catelyn does.

The truth is, my love for your mother was something that came naturally in many ways, whereas my love for Catelyn was built upon labor and dedication.

Even to this day, I do not know which one was truer, stronger, or more genuine."

— King in the North, Eddard Stark, to his daughter Allyria Snow.

"We have arrived at the castle," Oswell Whent quietly announced.

Ashara let out a long sigh as she gazed at the tower before her. Gull Tower was within walking distance of Gultown. The tower belonged to House Shett, a knightly house sworn to the Royces, and it was currently serving as a temporary residence for three kings before they returned to their respective kingdoms.

Ned is here, Ashara thought. Ned was no longer the sweet, silent wolf she had danced with at Harrenhal. He was the man who had led the northern and riverland armies into battle, the man who had drawn up the plans for the Battle of the Trident and brought about the end of the Targaryens, the man who was now King of the North and the Riverlands.

And he was no longer Ashara's man. He belonged to Catelyn Tully.

In just two years, everything had changed in unimaginable ways, and Ashara was one of the culprits behind that change.

I should have refused Rhaegar when he wanted to take Lyanna, she thought. This thought crossed her mind a hundred times a day. I should have refused Rhaegar. And Elia.

Elia Martell… her dearest friend. She had always preferred the company of women over men, but when she appeared at the Tourney of Harrenhal, it became clear that she and Rhaegar had surprisingly similar tastes—both of them had fallen for Lyanna Stark.

At first, neither Ashara nor Arthur was too worried about the situation. They saw the whole affair as a fleeting amusement. But when Elia summoned them and said Rhaegar intended to take Lyanna as his second wife, everything changed.

The worst part was that this unbelievably terrible plan had been conceived by Elia herself.

Arthur and Ashara had a heated argument with Rhaegar and Elia that day. They tried to explain what madness it was to abduct the daughter of a paramount lord, but neither of them listened to the Dayne siblings.

Rhaegar was obsessed with the prophecy, convinced that the third head of the dragon would come from Lyanna. And Elia—she was simply in love with the Stark girl. When she spoke of her, a dreamy look appeared in her eyes.

During the Tourney of Harrenhal, when the two of them were together… Ashara had never seen her friend so happy.

The husband and wife stopped pleading and trying to persuade others after a while. Instead, they exercised their royal authority and issued orders.

Arthur was a Kingsguard, and Ashara was Elia's lady-in-waiting. Neither of them had any choice but to obey orders and take part in this madness.

Ashara could never have foreseen things turning out this way.

She had thought the worst outcome would be Lyanna being sent home in shame. But the rebellion? Greendoom? These were things Ashara had never even considered possible.

The gods were truly cruel.

First came the news of the Battle of the Trident. Then, shortly after giving birth to her son, Lyanna had died of childbed fever.

Ashara blamed Rhaegar for her death.

To keep Lyanna from learning what had happened to her father and brothers, he had locked her away in an invisible cage, sealing her off from the world in a distant tower. He didn't even trust the maesters, ranting about some conspiracy of theirs, and because of that, Lyanna had been denied proper medical care. Only Wylla, Starfall's midwife, had been allowed to tend to her.

Even securing that permission had been a struggle for Arthur and Ashara.

Before she died, Lyanna had begged Arthur and Ashara to take her son to Winterfell. She kept insisting that her father and brothers would protect the child. Lyanna never learned of her father and brothers' pitiful deaths, just as she never learned of Greendoom. Ignorance truly was bliss.

After Lyanna's death, the three Kingsguard began discussing the restoration of House Targaryen. Their priority was to rescue Elia and her children and establish contact with Queen Rhaella, who was residing on Dragonstone. They left the tower with the intention of taking the child and heading to Sunspear. However, when they arrived at Starfall, the sight that greeted them was shocking, to say the least.

The streets of Starfall were empty. There wasn't even a single soldier on the walls, and the gates had been left open. It was as if all the people had vanished like ghosts. To say that Arthur and Ashara were bewildered would be an understatement. They didn't see a single soul until they reached the Dayne keep. Upon entering the castle, they found the Sept packed to the brim with people. Some were crying, some sat in silence, and others prayed in deep sorrow.

Shortly after, a guard arrived and informed them that their elder brother, Alaric Dayne, was waiting for them beneath the heart tree. House Dayne had always held a rather scattered stance on religion. Ashara's father and elder brother worshipped the Old Gods, while her mother, Arthur, and Ashara herself followed the Seven.

When Ashara and Arthur arrived at the godswood, they found their brother kneeling before the heart tree, praying alongside a small gathering. When Arthur asked why the city was empty, Alaric told him that it was by his order—during such times of catastrophe, noble and commoner alike should be on their knees, begging the gods for mercy. And then, they learned what had happened: Greendoom.

For the next few weeks, Ashara locked herself in her chambers, forced to face the nightmares of the catastrophe she had helped bring about.

During those days, the only solace she had was her daughter, Allyria.

Allyria was perfect. She carried pieces of both Ned and Ashara. She represented the future they had never lived and never would. A future that Ashara had ruined.

In those painful days, Ashara would cling to her daughter and weep. As if trying to comfort her mother, Allyria would pat Ashara's cheeks with her tiny hands and babble to herself. She carried so much of Ned within her—she was a remarkably quiet and calm baby.

A few weeks later, Arthur came to her, disheveled in both hair and clothing, and told her that a Great Council was being held in Maidenpool.

Had heard that ever since learning of Greendoom, Arthur had drowned himself in drink, becoming nothing more than a vagabond. He had passed out in the stables more than once and had even broken his Kingsguard vows by lying with a few women.

Ashara only learned later that one of those women was pregnant.

However, the news of the Maidenpool council had given her brother a new sense of energy. He now looked at her with a completely different light in his eyes. He told Ashara that they had a chance to redeem their great mistakes. Rhaegar and Lyanna's son Daeron would be presented to the Great Council, and he would recommend him as the new king. Ned Stark would undoubtedly support his nephew, the Riverlands would follow him, and Jon Arryn could be persuaded. The Tyrells would undoubtedly remain loyal to the Targaryens. Arthur claimed that without Daeron, the realm would fall apart, but as long as Westeros remained united, the wounds of Greendoom could be healed.

When Ashara heard her brother's "brilliant" plan, she screamed at him and threw everything she could grab in his face. Arthur seemed unaware of the widespread hatred for the Targaryens in Westeros, or he was deliberately ignoring it. Even in Starfall, Targaryen banners were being burned, dragon statues were being cursed and destroyed, and the situation in Oldtown was even worse—silver-haired Valyrians were being hunted down. Exposing little Daeron's identity would only lead to the poor child's early death.

Arthur remained completely silent in response to his sister's screams but held firm in his resolve. After a while, he donned his Kingsguard sword and armor, met with his two companions, and shared his plans with them. Ashara didn't know how the conversation progressed, but Arthur's two Kingsguard companions drew their swords on him. Richard Lonmouth died by Arthur's hand, and Oswel had managed to kill his old friend with a treacherous move at the last moment. But this victory did not come without a price—Oswel had a large, ugly sword scar right in the middle of his face. A farewell gift from Dawn's Sword.

After Arthur's death, the only thing left to do was to face the consequences of their mistakes. Oswel found a ship heading to Gulltown, from where they would sail to White Harbor, then go to Winterfell, deliver Lyanna's coffin to Ned, and face their judgment while telling King Stark the truth.

When they arrived in Gulltown, they learned that Eddard was still in the Vale, negotiating the last details of the Three Kings' alliance. After his work was finished, he planned to take a ship to White Harbor.

Oswel and Ashara found him at Gull Tower. They were escorted to King Stark's chambers by Lyn Corbray, the first member of the winged knights.

At first, Oswel spoke alone with King Stark. He gave him the coffin, confessed his sins, and said that he would allow himself to be executed if the king wished. King Stark gave Oswel a look. Oswel Whent had once been famous for his dark sense of humor—he was known for maintaining his humor even in the most dire of situations. Even if no one else laughed, he would, and he'd say that his own laughter was enough. Some of his jokes were considered disgusting, but Oswel didn't care what others thought. At least, that's how he used to be. After learning of Greendoom, Oswel Whent had been completely broken. He was no longer even a shadow of his former self. He had a huge sword scar on his face, his arms were weak and frail, and his eyes were dull and lifeless. He seemed to have lost his humanity and had turned into a mere puppet. King Stark pitied the man. He judged that Oswel had already punished himself enough and told him to leave. When Ashara last spoke with Oswel, she learned that he was going to Oldtown, where he would dedicate himself to the Seven in penance.

Then, the one who was called was herself. Ashara was trembling as she went to meet the man she loved, with two babies in her arms.

As Ashara tightly held the babies in her arms and approached the door, her heart began to pound in her chest. How long had it been since she last saw Ned? Two years? It felt like a lifetime. She pressed her hands against the wooden door and took a deep breath, but no breath could lighten the weight inside her.

The silent footsteps echoing in the corridor stopped as she pushed the door open and entered. The room was lit by the flickering light of a burning fireplace. Ned stood by the window, looking out at the Gulltown harbor. His back was turned to her, but Ashara could feel the tension in his body.

The man slowly turned, and his eyes met Ashara's. In that moment, it felt like time had stopped. The young man Ashara remembered from her mind wasn't the shy, silent wolf she danced with at Harrenhal anymore. The man in front of her was a king carrying the weight of war and loss. The lines on his face were sharper, his gaze heavier. But in his eyes, there was still a deep sorrow, just like before.

Ned's gaze slowly shifted to the babies in Ashara's arms. His lips parted slightly, but he didn't speak. Silence was the heaviest truth between them. Finally, Ashara spoke with difficulty:

"I brought your nephew."

Ned's face tightened. His steps were slow, but he moved toward Ashara. He had already learned of Daeron's existence from Oswel moments ago. When the woman extended one of the babies toward him, Ned raised his trembling hands. He gently took the baby, looked at him… and the stern expression on his face softened.

"Daeron…" he whispered.

Ashara shook her head. "It was Lyanna's last wish. She wanted you to take him to Winterfell."

Ned looked at the baby in his arms for a long time, then raised his eyes to Ashara. "And the other?"

Ashara held the other baby closer. "Allyria," she said, her voice trembling. "Our daughter."

Ned hesitated to hold Allyria, but when the baby reached out to him with tiny hands, he broke his resistance and opened his arms. Ashara watched him, and as their eyes met, a deep void formed in her heart. Ned gently touched the baby's head.

"A little Stark," he said, a faint smile appearing at the corner of his lips. His eyes softened, and as he cradled Allyria, every movement was careful and gentle. As a father, that natural, protective love from deep within his heart slowly took its place. "She's beautiful, Ashara," he murmured. "Our daughter is perfect."

Ashara looked at him with tears in her eyes, biting her lip to stay quiet. As Ned caressed Allyria's head, he felt the peace that came from touching her soft, tiny skin. The little girl's eyes, just like her mother's, were deep and strangely familiar, but at the same time, they felt like a future carrying the weight of the past.

Ned tore his eyes away from Allyria and turned slowly toward Ashara. Amidst the chaos and emotions within him, a silent question arose as he watched her. His eyes carried a reflection from those days long ago, from another world.

"Ashara…" he said, his voice hardened, but there was a fracture deep within it. "Why are you here?"

And that day, Ashara and Ned talked until nightfall. Ashara told him about the events that had started the rebellion, and Ned shared what he had experienced during it.

"How will you protect the child?" Ashara asked, indicating Daeron.

"I'll claim him as my bastard," Ned said with a sigh. "Most likely, they'll think he's your child already. When they saw you bringing the baby into the room, they'll think he's Allyria's twin, but the age gap is too obvious." He paused for a moment. "I'll send Daeron to Howland, raise him at Greywater Watch until he's old enough. When they're both old enough, Daeron..." He looked at the baby again. "Jon. Jon will grow to Allyria's size, and the age gap between them will become indistinguishable. Then I'll take him to Winterfell and raise him with my other children."

Ashara simply nodded in approval. Ned's plan seemed the best. Little Jon was no longer Ashara's concern.

Ashara looked into Ned's eyes. "Ned," she whispered, approaching him and taking his hands into hers. "Tell me."

Ned looked at Ashara in surprise. "Tell you what?"

"Greendoom."

"No, this…"

"Tell me, please," Ashara said, as tears ran down her face. "If you truly love me, tell me. Let me face my sins."

Ned looked at her, conflicted, but eventually, he opened his mouth and began to speak.

And Ashara listened.

It was night, and at the top of Gull Tower, Ashara was alone. A silence, unique to the night, had settled over the high cliffs and the dark sea. The sky, like a black shroud, enveloped everything in its intoxication, with stars flickering like distant memories. The sea, crashing against the rocks with a melody that intoxicated the night, whispered echoes of a faraway destruction.

At the top of the tower, as the cold wind slapped against her face, her eyes were fixed on the sea. Every wave that struck the rocks resonated like a scream. Her heart began to race; there was a weight inside her, light as a feather but just as deadly, and in that moment, Ashara understood the inevitable.

She did not have the strength to bear the weight of her sins, her mistakes.

She did not have the strength to look after her daughter, to protect her, to be a mother.

She did not have the strength to fight to get her love back.

She felt herself slipping in a blood-slickened haze, and as pain and sorrow throbbed like a pulse, she took a step. The world fell away, and the sea rose as if to greet her like an old friend...