Chapter Text
It doesn’t take long for Robb and him to write to the King. Robb worded the letters, while Ned wrote them and correcting Robb’s wording, which was unfortunately more often then hoped, but not surprising as Robb has never had much experience writing these sorts of letters, and better then Ned himself when he first became lord and warden.
By the time for dinner Robb is tired from the thinking, hating the political meaning that the letters held, little they may be. But he would have to get use to it, especially for when he must interact with the south, where politics played a much larger role then in the North.
For dinner that night Ned sits with the guardsmen of the keep, joking and laughing with them, asking about their wives and children.
Gerald mentions his eldest sons plans. “He’s going to go to the wall and become a brother of the watch. Make his old man proud he will. Might one day Snow’s master of arms that lad.”
Ned frowns. “I’m sure he’ll make you proud, but that do you mean Gerald, Snow’s master of arms?”
Gerald laughs as he takes a chug of ale. “Your bastards master of arms mlord. He’s planning on joining the watch mboy says. Snow seems a bright lad, a good sword arm too, speaks like a lord, he’ll probs be lord commander of the watch that lad. He’ll make you proud as well mlord.”
Ned sighs in understanding. “Oh he probably will if he joins the watch. But he hopefully won’t join.”
Gerald frowns. “Whatca mean, Carl says that’s all he talks about, joining the brotherhood.”
“The Nights Watch is a shell of its former self Gerald, while I will never forbid any of my sons from joining, I have no wish to see them join, even Jon. He’ll hopefully be a Lord with a wife and children.” Ned responds.
Jason from Gerald’s side says to Ned. “Mlord, no offence but he is a bastard, no man will wed their daughter to a nameless bastard, no matter how loved he is.”
——
A hour later Ned is walking to his eldest daughters room. He walks past Jon’s room, the furthest room away from the his and his wife’s, and stops for a moment, thinking on whether he should speak to him now or tomorrow. ‘Tomorrow, Robb has told him of his change of schedule, I’ll talk to him after we break our fast.’ He thinks before he continues on to Sansa’s room.
When he reaches his eldest daughters room he knocks lightly. He doesn’t here anything except the fire before his daughters lovely voice speaks. “Who is it?”
“It’s me Sansa, can I come in.” Ned asks, not wanting him to barge in in case she is changing or has her friends with her.
Sansa’s voice picks up surprise and excitement as she eagerly responds. “Come in father.”
Ned opens the door to see his beautiful 12 year old daughter smiling up at him, siting on a stool weaving something. “Good evening Sansa.”
“Good evening father, what brings you here?” She asks with a smile, putting her embroidery down. She stands up and brings herself to her fathers arms, giving a big hug that Ned returns.
After a couple seconds hugging Ned pulls away and closes the door. “I wanted to speak with you about your future and lessons.”
Her smile becomes larger if possible. “Really father? Has Prince Joffrey written to you? Or the King?” She rapidly asks, not taking a breath.
Ned frowns at her questions. “No sweetheart.” He walks to her bed and sits on it, patting next to himself for Sansa to sit. “Why would the King or Prince write to me about you?”
Sansa’s face falls before she answers. “So I can marry Prince Joffrey and be queen.”
Ned shakes his head. “No Sansa they haven’t written, and even if they did, you won’t be marrying the Prince.”
Quiet anger flashes through her face as she glared at Ned, showing the rare show of Stark in her, with how her face moves to famous Stark icy stare. “Why not father?” She grunts out. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Ned sighs as he thinks of his sister, and how her response was so alike but the opposite when informed of her betrothal to Robert. “Because the you are the eldest daughter of House Stark and you will marry into a strong northern family, and have northern children.” He answers.
Sansa pushes him away as she stands up. “No.” She stomps her foot. She glares at him and points her finger at him. “I will marry Prince Joffrey. He is young and beautiful and smart and kind and caring for his siblings and will be king. And I will be his queen.”
Ned doesn’t flinch at his daughters coldness, instead he responds. “You will not speak to me that way young girl. And whoever put those thoughts of the Prince in your mind?”
Sansa puts down her finger but doesn’t lessen her glare. “Sorry father, but I will marry the Prince and be queen and give him many sons and daughters. And the Septa and mother have told me all about the King, Queen and Prince Joffrey.”
Ned shakes his head. “Sansa neither your mother or Septa know the Prince, or the royal family for that matter. I know the King and I will not wed you to his son.”
Sansa sags in her spot. “Why not father?” She asks quietly, the fight leaving her. “The King is your friend.”
Ned sighs. “Yes he is Sansa, and that is why I will not wed you. Many years ago I had my father betroth my sister to him, and she never forgave me for it, and if the Prince is anything like his father he will not be loyal to his wife and father many bastards. Even after marriage.”
Sansa frowns. “Why would aunt Lyanna hate being betrothed to the King? They loved each other?”
Ned shakes his head. “No they didn’t. The King loved her because being wed to her would make the two of us brothers, the main reason I brought up the idea to my father. And Lyanna was too free spirited to be married to the King. His grace already had a couple bastards by the time they met, and there would be no stopping him, with many after his marriage with the Queen, a fate I do not wish for either you or your sister.”
Sansa doesn’t care about what he said. “So what about a bastard, you and mother have a good and happy marriage even with Jon being your bastard and proving you’re not loyal to mother. It’s expected of husbands to have bastards, you probably have more bastards then just Jon.” She tries to defend, her response hitting Ned in the heart.
“Sansa, Jon is my only bastard, that I can guarantee you. And who told you it’s expected for husbands to have bastards?” Ned asks.
Sansa shrugs. “The septa and mother. They also said that the bastards can’t be loved or seen because they will try to kill my children and take their rightful place as lord.”
Ned frowns, not realising that that was what she was told by her mother or septa. Is that why she was distant to Jon? “Sansa, that is not true, can you see Jon killing any of you children? And no only a few bastards have ever upsurped their true born siblings.”
Sansa thinks for a moment before shaking her head. “No I can’t see Jon killing us, but the septa says it’s only a matter of time before he goes evil and mother tells me that I will be happier if I never speak to him.” Her voice starts to crack at the end.
Ned looks at her face and sees her eyes are slightly wet. He gets off the bed and crouches by her, raising his hand to her eyes and wiping the unshed tears away. Sansa let’s her face fall in her fathers hand as they stay silent for a moment.
“Sansa.” Ned speaks softly. Sansa looks at him. “Jon is not evil and will never go evil. And the only person who benefits from you staying away from your brother is your mother. I know Jon was devastated when you became distant with him and called him half brother, and you’re hurting as well.”
“I’m sorry daddy.” She whispers.
“Don’t be sweetheart. And I’m sorry.” He replies.
Sansa frowns. “What are you sorry for?”
Ned sighs. “Sansa starting tomorrow you won’t be attending lessons with the septa, but instead will be attending lessons with Bran.”
Sansa gasps. “But father I need to be taught by a septa, I’m a lady. I must know what I need to do.”
Ned stands up. “Sansa I have made up my mind, you have got it in your mind that the world is a perfect place where your rank means you are a great person and that royalty means you are the best and perfect, which isn’t true. And you’re to be a good proper northern lady, you need to learn more then sowing, singing and dancing. I’m hiring a tutor to train you on how to be a proper lady of house Stark.”
Sansa stand up once again and glares at him. “I will NOT! I will be a lady of the south with pretty dresses and warm and a knight for a lordly husband if I’m not to wed the Prince.”
Ned points his finger at her. “I am your father young lady, don’t speak to me with that tone. And you will do as I say, and I say that I will find you a husband from the north and that you will attend all the same lessons as your brother.”
Sansa smirks as she thinks of a debunk. “What about his lessons with weapons?”
“Easy Jon will help train you alongside Bran, and Arya when I deem her ready.” Ned quickly responds.
Sansa stomps her feet as her face returns to a glare. “I WILL NOT!” She screeches.
Ned winces at the high pitched noise, one loud enough that others probably heard. But he doesn’t budge.
“After you break your fast you will follow Bran to maester Luwin’s study and after lunch go to the yard and practice archery. That is final.”
Sansa glares at him as she falls on the bed, the fight leaving her. “Not fair. Why do I need to learn how to fight?”
Ned sighs as she combs his fingers through his hair. “Many years ago when I was a child your aunt Lyanna was a lot like you Sansa.”
Sansa sits up and frowns. “Everyone says she was like Arya.”
“She was. She had Arya’s fight and the wolf-blood was strong in her. Always wanting to fight and ride and be friends with everyone, though our father forbid her from fighting. But she also had dreams and loved songs. She thought that Royalty couldn’t do any wrong.” Ned explains.
Sansa nods her head, smiling a little, glad to hear her aunt being described to be like her. “They can’t.” She agrees.
“So when one day a Prince crowned her the queen of love and beauty and summoned her to his rooms, she thought nothing wrong with it, as he was a Prince and was a true man.” Ned continues.
Sansa’s face falls again. “And he kidnapped and raped her.” She whispers.
Ned nods his head. “Yes. She thought a Prince could do no wrong and when summoned she only took a single guard. The next morning we found the guard knocked out with a near fatal wound who told us what happened. People nearby heard her screams but couldn’t do anything as he was the Crown Prince. If she was taught that the world isn’t perfect, that your rank doesn’t make a person better then anyone, she wouldn’t have gone to him by herself, or without telling anyone.
“And then my brother went to Kings Landing and demanded the Prince’s head. He was imprisoned by the King who then summoned our father. Then the great King had them both murdered in brutal ways, burning and choking. And so the actions of a Prince kidnaping and raping a girl of 14, and a King burning a great Lord and warden alive and having his heir choke to death, all led to a war.
“When the Lannister army sacked the city, do you know what Lord Lannister did?” Ned asks slowly at the end.
Sansa shakes her head, tears coming out of her eyes.
“He had a knight rape Princess Ellia, the Princes wife, and kill her and her children. Heads bashed against the wall, poked to death by swords all over the body, you could only tell the children were them because of their hair and that no other children were allowed in the keep. And when King Robert was presented with the mutilated bodies of a young girl and a baby boy, he laughed and called them Dragonspawn, not children.”
At this point Sansa is weeping at the horror story that she was probably too young to be told.
“When I found my little sister in that tower in Dorne, the oh so great and noble knights of the Kingsguard fought to keep my sister from me. Ser Arthur Dayne told me that he was sorry, but it was his Prince’s orders, orders to stand by as my sister screamed for help as he raped her. We killed all of the Kingsguard with only Lord Reed and I alive. I ran up and found my sister, dead from childbirth.”
Sansa gasps at the little known fact. Something Ned has told few people, not wanting to think of it, but needing his daughter to understand what happened.
He nods his head. “Yes Sansa, childbirth. Her body was covered in scars, her and the bed covered in dried blood, and a little dead baby girl in her arms. There was a squire who told me how she died just the night before, how she wasn’t allowed a maester to help her give birth, how the baby was born alive but with no food died and how he placed my sisters child in her arms after her death. The girl had the looks of a Stark. Lyanna’s hair and face shape, couldn’t see a hint of Targaryen in her. My sister never even got to name her. Dead before a day of living.”
Sansa’s face is red and puffy from crying.
“A week later I hear that King Robert was to thank Lord Lannister for his sacking of the city by wedding his daughter and making her Queen, the choice made the moment he heard of Lyanna’s death. Maybe, just maybe if I had cared to know if Robert would be a good husband Lyanna wouldn’t of hated him and me. Maybe if father had allowed her to learn how to fight she could’ve slipped past Rhaegar and his guards.”
He pauses for a moment and brings his hand to Sansa’s cheek. “I don’t ever want that to happen to you or your sister or your children. Do you see why I don’t want you to marry to the south? Starks don’t go South, it is our doom. And I will never let you marry a son of Robert with Lannister blood unless I know them myself and can deem them worthy, and even then I won’t let you go live in the pit of vipers that is the capital. “
Sansa weeps as Ned holds her face, Ned wiping tears away. “I haven’t betrothed you to anyone as of yet, and I don’t expect you to be a great fighter, but I want you to be able to defend yourself. When you were born I promise to protect you and I shall until my last breath, but I’m not always going to be able too, not your husband whoever he may be.”
Sansa nods slightly, head north leaving her fathers hand. “I understand father. How long will I be training for?”
Ned removes his hand and answers. “You will spend a couple hours with Jon and Bran everyday with weapons, then you will learn from maester Lewin with Bran. For the rest of the day you will learn from your mother how to be the lady of a house.”
“I can do that father. But I won’t like it.” She confirms with a steel voice. “Anything else father?”
“Yes. I am inviting noble children from the north to Winterfell for fostering and to find wives for your brothers and a husband for you.” Sansa looks up at that.
“Will my future husband be cruel?” She asks fearfully.
“I promise you Sansa, unless something happens you will have a hand in who will be your husband, and I will never give you to a cruel man to wed.”
She smiles at that. “Thank you father. Will I need to start my marriage cloak then?”
Ned chuckles. “Not yet my dear, not for a while yet. Though I will ask something of you. I am going to be giving Jon a lordship, and for that he needs better clothing. As a bastard he has no mother to make clothing and he isn’t to wear as high quality as true born children as it would be a insult, but as a lord he must. As the eldest lady in his house would you be willing to make his clothing?”
Sansa frowns. “Mother wont be happy about Jon being a lord, but yes I can father. I will need to get his sizing first though. And what will be his sigil? I will need to implement that, or would he like ghost on it? Will have Stark colours or will he have different colours?” Sansa gets up and starts walking around the room, rambling about Jon’s clothing she will make.
“Sansa!” She stops and looks at him. “After dinner tomorrow you may ask Jon for his sizing and what he would like. I must speak to him and your mother first. I can’t answer what he would like, you will need to answer.”
Sansa nods. “Yes father.”
Ned gets up and gives his daughter a hug. “Thank you sweetheart for everything. Now I think it’s time for bed.” He whispers in her ear.
She nods. “Goodnight daddy.” She whispers back as she hugs him tightly before letting go.
Ned walks to the door before stopping and turning around. “Your sister will be livid with you training and her with the septa by herself. Please don’t antagonise her.”
Sansa huffs. “I won’t if she won’t.”
Ned smiles at her answer, it being what he was expecting.