Dear Becca
Your mother always told me this day would come, warned me one day you would want to know your roots, as it were. You know you're not ours by blood, but that didn't stop me and your mother from treating you like one.
I could practically hear the resigned sigh as the next paragraph began...
During Robert's Rebellion, I was his right hand man. So while he was caving in chests and sampling whores, I was doing the tracking of my sister Lyanna. She'd been abducted by Rhaegar Targaryen, or so we thought. It turns out her and the young Dragon were in love. Damn silly if you ask me but you try changing Lyanna's mind... anyway. At the end of the war, we found her hidden away in Dorne, guarded by three of the Kingsguard. Once we got through them, we found Lyanna in bed clutching the tiniest pair of babies in her arms you've ever seen. Littler than Rickon as a baby they were, with dark Stark hair. But only one was hers.
While I was in the south I... I had an affair. With some servant that ended up bearing my bastard. My son. I never realised that the servant was, for all intents and purposes, Lyanna's maid. All I knew was that my beloved sister was holding two children in her arms and sobbing. The maid had died in childbirth, she lay in the corner. And Lyanna looked up at me and whispered;
"Look Ned, isn't she beautiful? My little girl Ned, so pretty. She's like a song, Ned. Look after my song, promise me Ned. Look after my little song, of ice and fire"
I picked you out my sister's arms when a friend picked up the boy, my boy, and kissed her forehead. You were so small, I wept as I wrapped you in fur and tucked you into my chest. Jon was bigger, sleeping like the dead. But you looked up at me with big eyes, and your little hand played with my finger.
You're a Stark, Rebecca. But you're a Targaryen too.
Eddard.
I sat in shock, fingers shaking slightly as I folded the letter and set it in front of me. A Targaryen? Madness, If Robert had heard... I would be dead. Still trembling, I climbed the steps to Maester Aemons library, and pored over many books until I found it.
The Madness of the Targaryen Line. A relatively average sized book, it was as thick as my wrist and as dusty as could be, but I persevered. Page after page of illness and malady thought to be brought about by the Targaryen dynasty's incestuous ways, until there it was, staring up at me, written in spiky handwriting.
Aegon's Bane. It was a near perfect description of my disease. I felt tears brim in my eyes as a shaking finger ran over the lines I read, before letting myself weep softly in the confines of the library.
"Becca?" a voice questioned, and I sat straight, hastily wiping my eyes.
"Benjen. I.. I was bored. I decided to read" I lied. He raised an eyebrow before holding up my letter.
"So did I" he said softly, before opening his arms to me. Without a seconds hesitation I sniffled and let him hold me.
**
I told Maester Aemon, of course. I half expected him to have a heart attack but he took it so calmly, a knowing smile as he patted my hand. "So it would seem..." he smiled shakily, and I could see tears in his blind eyes, "I have a grandneice after all. How lovely"
"Oh Maester Aemon" I had sniffled and we had hugged. I spent as much time as I could in there then, and he taught me much about Targaryen history. Within a few weeks I could recite every last dragon.
I was reading through something different one day, poring over a copy of the vows of the Night's Watchmen, before something made me frown. One line was niggling at me, had I heard it before?
"I shall take no wife..." I murmured to myself in soft confusion.
"I should hope not" Maester Aemon had hummed. "Benjen would be most displeased"
I had smiled to myself, but couldn't leave it alone.
###
The answer came one night, when I jolted upright in bed with wide eyes, surprising my poor love who tumbled ungracefully out the bed with a yelp. But I had it. I knew why it was bothering me. All but jumping over his frame I wrapped a fur around myself, hurrying out and up the stairs two at a time until I reached the library.
"Ceremonies Of The Seven..." I murmured to myself, finding the poor reasonably quickly and plonking it onto the book to read. Whipping through the pages, I found it. I found the line and laughed joyously, giddy. I had found our loophole, we could be married! Sort of...
But how could luck last forever? I had over exerted myself, after all. and excitement was bad for me.
I forgot my happiness as I tumbled to the floor, shaking and spasming and fitting as my eyes rolled back...
And everything went black.
A/N
OOH IT'S NICE TO BE BACK ISNT IT?! WHATS THE LOOPHOLE?! WILL SOMEONE FIND BECCA?
WILL SOMEONE FIND OUT ABOUT BECCA?!
ONLY ONE WAY TO FIND OUT