CHAPTER THREE
Saera
Present Day
"I hate him." It's been three days since my fight with my father but my mother wants me to make things right with him. She thinks if I act like the future queen that I'm meant to be that it'll prove to him that I'm the bigger person and that I can handle this.
She's wrong.
I'm nothing like my mother who has let my father step all over her since the day he married her. He does this thing where he'll shatter her heart and her dreams and then pick her some flowers from the garden, which aren't even pretty flowers like the ones she had in King's Landing by the way- yeah, my mother always tells me how beautiful the garden her mother has was, and he'll buy her some new gown or necklace or both and give her some sappy "I love you" speech about how they need each other and she fall for it every single time.
Then he does the same bullshit after a few months and the cycle repeats.
My mother doesn't even know the worst of it all. He just refuses to let her love him and it kills me to see my mother always waiting on him hand and foot like she's a fucking servant. I'm not even exaggerating when I say hand and foot either. She has literally taken his boots off for him in the library because he was "too tired" after a hunt to do it himself and she served him tea and anything else he had asked for. Which I'm pretty sure she had to do wifely duties for him in there too.
Disgusting.
"Saera-Rose, he is your father and he is trying." She was adamant.
I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "Trying to replace me as heir."
"He's a fool at times, I'll admit it." Mother said softly. "It's happened before in history where the realm did not want to accept a woman as heir. It caused a war bigger than your grandfather's rebellion. Maybe one of the biggest wars of all time-"
"I know Mother, I read all about it." My grandfather made me read about it the last time he came to visit, which was when Greyson was born. It's still odd to me that he and my Gran are coming to visit again but it's not like anything interesting is happening. They usually only come when my mother is with child. But she says she isn't.
And she doesn't act like she is at all. I learned from when she was pregnant with Greyson it's easy to tell when she's with child. And my father? He's like a blood hound for it. He knew my mother was pregnant before she did. Although I'm pretty sure he just always prays for her to be pregnant. My father would have a hoard of boys if he had his way.
I would have been fed to his pet wolf that he had when I had been born if he truly had his way. He would have shrugged it off and told my mother to just keep trying until they got a boy and they would have thrown out every girl until then.
"Your father loves you... He just has a strange way of showing love. To anyone, actually. His father and mother were not perfect and didn't set a good example for him." She explained softly. "My mother and father were not perfect either but they tried a bit harder than his parents did."
"Father is going to send me away, isn't he?" I've felt it for months now. I knew he would be planning something and when the topic of me being wed off was brought up the other day I knew my suspicions were right.
Mother shook her head. "No, you're not leaving Winterfell unless you wish to leave. My mother was sold to Robert Baratheon when she was 16. Had me and your Uncle Gendry when she was 17 and then had Uncle Joffrey soon after. I was 15 when I was sold to your father. Married him the day after I turned 18 and had you 9 months later. I will never, and I mean never allow for that to happen to you. And if your father bids otherwise I know my mother will take my side. Since the day you were born she has been on my side when it comes to protecting you. In ways she wishes she could have protected me. Which is why my sister, Myrcella, is as pampered and babied as she is. I took the brunt of all of it. I took all the darkness and I ate, I became it. To protect my sister and to protect you."
I swallowed hard. Bile burned the back of my throat and my breakfast threatened to come back up. I know something bad happened to my mother and that's why Grandfather Robert sent her to Winterfell. Where she'd be safe from all harm... Or so he thought. He trusted Eddard Stark, my late grandfather, to keep my mother safe. To keep her happy.
He trusted Eddard's son to provide my mother with true happiness. To give her solitude and a family. To give her everything that my grandparents couldn't give her. As king and queen, they couldn't stop the monsters of King's Landing. That's all my mother ever told me about it.
Until today.
"Saera... Do you even understand why I love your father as much as I do? It's not because of the things he buys me. It's not because he made me his queen and it's certainly not because he takes me on his trips with him. I loved your father before we married. I truly love him and always will. He saved my life, Saera. Just by existing."
I stayed quiet and watched as she rose from the chair she had been sitting in. She started to toy with a wreath she had been making. A mother's wreath. Only a mother can make them and you make them to pray for your children when something is wrong. My Nan, the old Lady Stark, taught my mother to make them when I was a baby and I had caught a fever. I always wondered if my father cared that I may have died or not.
The wreath she was making now was similar to one she made many years ago. One that she had burned. I remember being a child and watching my mother lose her mind and throw many things into that fire that night.
She didn't know I stood in the doorway while my father actually held her in his arms. But she thrashed at him. She punched him. She told him how much she hated him. She wished for him to be dead. But she was sad. The saddest I'd ever seen her in my entire life.
"Did I tell you about the day I met your father?" She paused with a soft smile. "I kicked him in the crotch. Hard. Twice."
I chuckled and my eyes met with hers. "Why? What did he do?"
She smirked and tilted her head to the side and continued to toy with the wreath. "Joffrey wanted to train with the boys in the yard. He wasn't good with a sword like Gendry was and Gendry had warned him that the boys of the north were not ones to mess with. Joffrey... Well, Joffrey at age 13 did not listen, I'm shocked he's since learned how to listen. He picked up a practice sword thinking he could beat Robb and Jon. Theon had backed away, refusing to be responsible for hurting the Prince of Westeros. Jon let Joffrey win but Robb... Oh your father did not go easy on him."
My Uncle Joffrey has some of the most horrific of stories about his childhood and early teenage years. He married Margaery Tyrell of Highgarden and she keeps him on a short leash. I've watched as my uncle has gone to argue about anything and he'll open his mouth but she gives him this one stern look and it shuts him up. Humbles him instantly. I wish my mother had that power over my father.
"Your father broke Joffrey's wrist with how hard he knocked the practice sword from his hand." Mother admitted quickly. "I ran across the yard and rolled my sleeves up and with one solid punch I had winded your father and brought him to his knees. He threw up my skirts but he didn't fuck with Joffrey ever again. Or pick on anyone smaller than him either."
Liar.
He picks on me all the time.
And he picks on her.
He may not pick on other men anymore but he certainly doesn't care about picking on my mother. Maybe she needs to hit him even harder in the nuts. Maybe if she breaks his cock it'll humble the fuck out of him.
"Wow." I replied with loss of interest now. Although I do feel my mother once had an edge, it's since been long gone.
She nodded proudly. "We danced at the welcome feast later that night. We knew that we were betrothed but he still got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. Your father was a gentleman and you can believe it or refuse to believe it but that man is still in there deep down. He's just... Losing Lord Eddard was so hard on him. On all of us..."
"I heard Grandfather Robert handled it the worst." I don't know why I said that out loud.
She nodded again but this time with a frown. Her grip tightening on the wreath. "You know he lost his foot and lower half of his left from that accident, right?" I gave a silent nod. "It was a bear. A bear took down Lord Eddard and my father almost died trying to save him. Ser Rodrik Cassel also has scars from that day too. Ser Barristan Selmy is the reason my father is alive or else he'd have died too. Your father watched it happen. It was supposed to be a hunt to celebrate the engagement between Robb and I... But it didn't end well. Robb had to carry his dead father back to the castle on his horse. He was never the same after that and I'm so sorry that you were never able to experience the Robb that I once knew."
"That doesn't excuse his hatred for me." She always made excused for him. It's all I ever heard. Excuse after excuse.
She grunted loudly. "I'm not making excuses Saera! I'm trying to get you to understand your father a little bit better. Because maybe if you understand him he'll take the time to understand you. Perhaps I'm wrong, but you are just as stubborn as he is."
"Am not!"
"You sound like a child, Saera. This is why your father treats you like one. You're arguing with me like a damn toddler!" Mother went to the door and held the handle in her grip. "If you can't understand what your father has been through then you'll never understand what I've been through, Saera-Rose. Why I love you so much and why I am so devoted to keeping you safe, you'll never get it."
-
I walked into the courtyard and saw Uncle Jon talking to Uncle Theon and I stopped dead in my tracks. Uncle Jon had come down from the Wall to visit and was garbed in his all-black night's watch attire. While Uncle Theon had Isobel standing next to him. Everyone knew Isobel was his daughter that he had with Millie but he wasn't allowed to claim her out loud. His father would more than disown him more than he already had.
When my Grandfather Eddard died Theon Greyjoy was given a choice. Go home to the Iron Islands and be reunited with his family as he was no longer a ward of war or stay in Winterfell and become my father's trusted advisor.
Theon didn't need to think about it at all. He told Lord Greyjoy that his father- his real father had died in a hunting accident and that he needed to stay with his true family in Winterfell. His father shunned him forever but his sister Yara found his choice as brave. She comes every other year or so to visit but she doesn't like my mother at all so sometimes her visits are awkward.
Isobel caught sight of me and waved. Her long hair that matched the mousey color of Theon's blowing in the wind. "Saera-Rose!" She called to me. Theon and Jon both nearly broke their necks to look at me.
Uncle Jon opened his arms for a hug but I stepped slowly toward him. Giving him a side hug. "Hi, Uncle Jon..." I couldn't even fake happiness seeing him.
"Little Robb," My uncle joked. "Look at those auburn curls. God, you even have his face. But those eyes... You have-"
"My mother's eyes." Deja-Vu. I rolled my eyes and grit my teeth.
Uncle Jon reached into his pocket and pulled out a necklace made from seashells. "Hardhome is on the water and the girls were all making these necklaces. I asked for one for you. Do you like it?"
"You went that far past the wall?" I asked as I put the necklace on. "It's really pretty. Thank you," I looked at him and he seemed almost sad. "What's wrong?"
"There was just a lot of people there who needed our help. Mance Rayder yielded to us and his people followed his lead but there's so many villages that need to be rebuilt. Many of the men decided to join the watch but the women and children and elders? I don't know what to do."
"What are they in need of?" I asked.
"Clothes, food, supplies, homes-" He breathed out. "You name it and they probably need it."
"I have some gowns I don't wear anymore if you'd like to bring them back with you for some of the girls. Jacerys possibly has clothes he doesn't wear anymore either. I know Mother wants him to save them for Greyson but he gets everything brand-new because he's just so important to Father." I grunted and then realized I was talking poorly of the King. Not just my father... But the fucking King in the North.
Theon blew out a loud exhale. "Yikes."
"I remember wearing Robb's hand-me-downs. Bran got everything new but Rickon had to wear Bran's old clothes. Sansa got all brand new but Arya had Sansa's old clothes." Jon replied. "Some children are just favored more. Be lucky you're the only girl."
"Being a girl in this family isn't lucky at all." I muttered.
"Isobel, go see if your mother needs help in the kitchen. Dinner is nearly ready, isn't it?" Theon shooed off Isobel quickly. She nodded and obeyed her father. Before she was too far away he caught up to her and kissed her head and told her that he loves and adores her.
I want to punch her.
She's his only child. His only child is a fucking girl and he worships the ground she walks on. It's not fucking fair. It really isn't.
Theon paused for a moment after and rejoined myself and my uncle. There was a tense awkward silence as the two looked around all over the place. "Come," Uncle Jon said as he lead the way toward the Gods Wood.
He sat on a stone that was placed perfectly under the tree. When I was little I remember my father sitting there and praying often. Sometimes he'd be cleaning his sword there in private. Washing the blood into the stream below the tree.
Seeing my uncle sit there felt strange. I always thought of that stone and pictured it as my father's spot. But seeing Uncle Jon there was a reminder that he belonged there too. He's as much as a Stark as the rest of them. He just doesn't carry the name.
"Robb means well." Not this shit again. Nope. I don't want to hear it. I open my mouth to speak when my uncle holds up a finger to his lips and shakes his head at me. "I was there the day he changed forever, Saera. Theon was too."
I didn't know that.
"Robb had Lord Eddard's blood covering him from head to toe. He sat in those bloodied clothes for three days until your mother burst into his chambers and washed him herself and dressed him in his wedding attire for their wedding- yeah, your parents were forced to still get married after that. Three fucking days after. And then they made you that same night." Theon explained and I felt my stomach twist.
"I-"
"Shut up." Jon said in a seething voice at me. He's never spoken to me like that before and I don't remember him ever speaking to anyone like that. I cleared my throat and crossed my arms at him. "Don't look at me like that. Your mother gives me that same face but I'm immune now. I don't fear you, Saera. Which is why I'm going to be blunt with you since no one else has been."
Pressing my lips together in a thin line I narrowed my glare at him. But it didn't work. He wasn't intimidated or scared of me at all.
"My father used to tell Robb from a very young age that Starks only have boys first. I love my father and may the Gods keep his soul at peace but he filled Robb's head with not only having a son someday but needing a son more than he'd even need air to breathe. Robb was told it was his destiny to have a son first and for that son to be his heir. We all told him it doesn't work that way but because our father told him it does... He was never going to listen to anyone else." Jon coughed slightly and let out a breath.
The tree began to shake slightly from the wind and I looked at the face on the tree. It looked sad. I didn't like that. Sometimes they looked like they were just watching and others like it was screaming but today? It's sad and wants to cry.
Perhaps even the tree knows the tale of how Lord Eddard raised my father. Maybe the tree feels sorry for me in some sort of way.
"I'm sorry that you feel like you're unloved by him. It fucking sucks, trust me, I know all too well how it feels to be looked down on for being different or unexpected. Whatever you wish to call it. I'm a fucking bastard child. My father fucked a girl he met while away fighting your grandfather's war and had me because my mother died on the birthing bed. He brought me home and Lady Stark was not happy at all when she was ever so happy to present Robb to my father only to find another baby in his arms. So yeah, Saera, I know all about feeling unwanted and unloved. But just because you feel it doesn't make it true."
"You're not here. You don't know how my father truly feels about me." I argued.
"I do." Theon chimed in quickly. "I was here when you were three years and fell down the stone steps. Your father didn't slept for days because he was terrified he'd lose you. I was here when you caught a fever as an infant and Maester Luwin told Alana and Robb that you wouldn't live through the night. Your father made everyone in the castle come sit under this tree and pray. Anyone who didn't come here? He had them hung for treason. And while your mother sat by your bedside, Robb was in the bed with you. You slept in his chest because he wanted to feel that you were still breathing."
I opened my mouth then snapped it shut. My memory is good but not that good. I don't remember any of those things. I remember hearing about my fall or me being ill but I don't remember it actually happening.
"Don't sit there and tell us that you're unloved because one thing about Robb is when he loves someone... He loves them with everything he has. He just doesn't know how to show it anymore. Because right before that bear attacked Lord Eddard, Robb and him got into a fight."
"About?" I asked softly.
"Your mother's past." Uncle Jon said softly.
"What about her past?" I raised a brow in interest. Perhaps she had a secret lover or she had lost her maidenhead to someone long before my father. Or maybe she had been a criminal and stole something and that's why she was shipped to Winterfell.
The possibilities swarmed my head.
Theon shook his head. "That's not for us to tell. But just know that Robb chose your mother over his father that day. He told Lord Eddard that he'd have a son and he'd raise that son to be a hundred times the man Lord Eddard was and he couldn't wait to rub it in his face."
"And then Lord Stark... Died?"
A silent nod from the two of them.
"Does my mother know about the fight?" I asked.
Jon shook his head. "I don't know how much she knows. I don't even know how Lord Stark found out the things he found out because King Robert didn't know. He didn't even know what Robb and my father had been arguing about. I don't think he'll ever know. Alana would never tell her father; she loves him too much to break his heart."
"Thank you..." I muttered. "But I still can't forgive my father."