Chapter Text
128 AC
Reila Stark had plans for today. She woke up, ready to greet her mother and later find her father, practice some archery and maybe read. Instead all of that, their maester, Kennet, knocked on her door and gave her an envelope.
"Your father wants to see you after you read this." And he left.
The envelope was untouched. It had Tully's seal that had yet to be broken. Reila knew that Elmo Tully and her father, Cregan, were discussing the possibilities of war. Everyone knew Aegon took Rhaenyra's birthright that Reila's family swore to protect. It was a matter of time before she sends ravens to the north. Or dragons. The war was inevitable, she knew that much.
She gently opened it, not knowing what to expect. It was short, but neat. What would Elmo want to say to her? She was calm when she read—
My lord Stark, I will be forward when I speak of our alliance. The war is coming and it would be wise if we join our houses. Your eldest with my eldest. I advise you reply as soon as possible. I fear we must prepare our armies.
She slowly put the letter down. Reila was happy to help her father, but she was curious to why he didn't read the letter first.
"Father?" She said to Cregan Stark when she entered the room. Him and her mother—Arra—were eating breakfast. A rare sight, she must admit, mostly because her father was a busy man. Reila sat beside her mother and took her warm hand. Lady Arra smiled at her and she returned, looking at her mother's pregnant belly. She hoped it was a girl.
"Yes, my dear? I expect you have questions about the letter?" He was speaking like she understood what the message meant. Why didn't he read it first?
Lord Cregan Stark was a strange man. He was a fierce warrior. She knows every story behind her fathers battle scars and she's seen him wield his sword. She wasn't old enough, merely seven, when Cregan overthrew his uncle, but Reila loved hearing stories about that period. But also she's been there when he tucked her into bed and told her stories before she fell asleep. He knew her. To the bone. So she didn't have to say anything.
"If you must know, I didn't read it because It's about your life and your future. It hardly concerns—"
"It hardly concerns you? We have to prepare for a war!" Why was he saying all that? It didn't sound like him. At all. Cregan loved and wanted to know what was happening on his land at all times.
"Cregan, what is she saying?" Her mother looked concerned and confused. They weren't a perfect match, her parents, but they were trying and they loved each other, so that counted for something. Cregan married Arra when he became Lord of Winterfell, after knowing her all his life. They loved each other. She wanted to have that with someone one day.
"Everything is being handled. You musn't worry, sweet wife."
Reila was not so sure about that. Elmo's words sounded almost desperate. But she had no business telling her father how to rule and what to do with his men.
"What did the rest say?" Her mother squeezed her hand. Reila was still in her bed attire and completely out of place, but this couldn't wait.
"I am to be wed, mother." She gave Arra a small but honest smile, to show that she was willing to help their family and take part in her duty.
Lady Arra's features revealed nothing. "To whom, my child?"
"Lord Tully's son, Kermit." She said.
Her father ate in silence. His beard and hair were in place, which was unusual, but the rest of him had written Warden of the North, all over. The dark colors, brooding features, the direwolf on his chest and the fur-edged cloak around his chair. He only looked up once at his wife and let Reila speak.
Her mother was the definition of beauty. Round, pale face, full lips, midnight blue dress that was so dark it was almost black.Reila was a spitting image of her mother. The hair, the face, the softness in her eyes. Her smile could spare Reila of any troubles that she had, but seeing her mothers almost disapproving look made Reila slouch.
"What's the matter, Arra?" Her father asked.
Her mother looked like she was trying to find the best words that wouldn't hurt either of them. And when she finally delivered them, It wasn't what Reila expected.
"You cannot sell our daughter to some noble house for a few thousand men." Her answer was sharp.
"Are you out of your mind? I'm not selling her. This is our greatest chance in surviving a fucking civil war!" He made sure not to raise his voice, but the anger was still there. If the word spread, people would panic and only chaos would come out of it.
"Mother, It's alright. I'm sure he's a good man and will be a fine husband." Reila tried to soothe her mother just a little bit. And in reality— she was fine with it. She knew she couldn't have an epic romance tale. She also knew her father was planning this for a while. He knew what the letter was going to say.
"Very well," her mother said, but still looked like she'd end Tully's bloodline, "Reila, go dress. We must start preparing for the wedding."
She glanced at her father, but he still looked sure of himself. Reila was Cregan Stark's daughter and if he could get through something, so could she.
•••
She was brushing her hair when her father walked in. "You still haven't said if you're fine with this marriage," he said.
She did. She said so to her mother, but Cregan knew better.
Reila made peace with her future and nothing would make her uncertain when it comes to helping her family.
"We need Elmo's men," she pinned up her dark hair, "I'll do my part." She said with confidence. Then a spark of something appeared that made her want to bargain with her father.
"In exchange I want to go with you."
Cregan's eyes widened, "What?"
"Instead of being kept in a castle with my soon-to-be husband, I'll get a taste of freedom before my real duties as a wife begin."
"Freedom? Are you hearing yourself right now? You want me to take you to war!"
"It doesn't have to be long. A month, perhaps. Please let me go with you and I'll even marry both of his sons, please!"
He thought for a moment, grazing his dark beard. Reila knew that once she marries she won't be able to see her father daily. This would be like a goodbye to her childhood.
"Not a word to your mother. She's pregnant and her due is any day now." Reila jumped from her seat in excitement and hugged her father.
"Thank you! Thank you!" He let out a rich laugh that made Reila's chest full.
"Very well, daughter. You must go to your mother now. She needs you." Reila knew he was talking about her mother's pregnancy.
"Do you have a name in mind?" She asked, her head still buried in her father's strong chest.
"Rickon." Reila was her father's oldest and only child. She knew he wanted a male heir, but that didn't stop him from loving her unconditionally.
"You are so sure it's going to be a son?" She said, mockingly.
"My biggest concern is their health, but your mother and I talked. She thinks it's a boy."
•••
She went to the library and began studying history after failed attempts to learn High Valyrian. She felt foolish just trying to pronounce the words without having someone help her. History was her comfort. It already happened. Years passed since those events and she loved to read about them. It was like reading regular stories, but knowing to recite battles from actual history would get her praises and applauds from her father's friends.
The books were old, older than her, even. She could easily get lost in them and that's precisely what happened.
The sun went down and her father came to check on her once, but she barely acknowledged him while reading about King Maegor's life. Now she understood why he was "The Cruel." She liked princess Rhaena. She liked to think they would be good friends if they somehow ended up in the same room.
The candle that Maester Kennet lit up was coming to an end and she sighed in annoyance. Reila decided to blow it out and go to bed. It was pretty late. Her back started to hurt from sitting in the same position the whole day.
"Lady Reila, you must come right away. Your father said someone came to pay a visit."
Reila frowned. At this ungodly hour? The mysterious visitor peeked her interest and she quickly got up to find out who it was.
Her father was sitting on his throne and looking at a young man dressed in red from head to toe. "Dear daughter, Prince Jacaerys decided to pay us a visit!"
And he didn't care to mention that the unexpected visitor was the Crown Prince himself?
Reila bowed, "My Lord. May I ask, what do we owe the pleasure?"
Jace came up to Reila and the only thought that was running through her mind was Why couldn't my father marry me to someone like him? He had the manners and the dragons. Her soon to be husband only had the army, for all that she knew.
He kissed her hand and her cheeks reddened. She already liked him. "I'm here on behalf of my mother, The Rightful Queen, my lady." And he listens to his mother!
"Well, let's hear it, my lord," said her father. He was unusually friendly. It seemed he too liked Prince Jace. Who wouldn't?!
"Your Father, Rickon Stark, bent the knee and swore loyalty to The Queen several years ago." The people in the room began whispering, but Cregan shushed them right away.
"Yes, I recall. My old man was a good man. Don't worry, boy, the Starks haven't forgotten an oath yet."
"I am glad to hear it, Lord Stark." He smiled and Reila melted at the sight. She wanted to scream at her father to wed them now, but she knew he was already betrothed.
"My prince, House Stark will fight beside Queen Rhaenyra for as long as we can manage. Every man in this castle will die protecting the rightful Queen." Cregan's voice was loud and proud and Reila knew her father wasn't exaggerating. He meant every word.
"You have the Crown's unending gratefulness." The prince's back was straight, voice sure. He was his mother's son.
"Now that we have that settled...We're going for a hunt tomorrow. What do you say, my prince?" Cregan laughed enthusiastically and Reila couldn't help but smile.
"Then I must go to bed right away." And the maids prepared a room for him, but Reila could see he wasn't expecting anything from them. They could've given him a mattress in the middle of a ball room and he wouldn't complain.