To the rest of the world, as I sat on the floor of my room, it looked as though I was glaring at a small wooden ship. Yet, I was in fact mentally fuming at the insanity I found myself in. Somehow, at the behest of some unknown power, I'd been reborn in Westeros. And that unknown power had decided to fuck with one of the major protagonists of the book and TV show.

What made my fuming even worse was that I had no one to direct my anger at. Blaming a new-born baby was pointless. They had no control over the fact an outside force had decided to fuck with their destiny and change their gender. Nor the fact said force had decided to drop me in to deal with the fallout.

“Waahh!” Said babe cried. I turned my attention from the wooden ship, letting my anger fade from my face, to look at little Alysanne Snow. No matter how much I wished I was looking at Jon Snow, that wasn't going to happen. And as Alysanne continued to cry, Wylla lifted from my former crib (I’d graduated to an adult bed – though one with high sides – a few months prior).

“Shh, little one.” Willa whispered as she pulled Alysanne into her arms and began to gently rock her. “It’s ok. Cregan isn’t angry at you, are you Cregan?” She asked as she shifted her gaze to me, narrowing her eyes.

I sighed and shook my head. “No Willa. Shop is boring.” I replied, doing my best to cover my anger at the ripples the change she held in her arms generated. Though calling Alysanne a ripple was a gross understatement. Who knew a simple sex change would unleash a tidal wave of alterations to the timeline?

And while I was angry that there was no Jon Snow, I couldn’t be angry at Alysanne. Yes, her being here was a shock to a great many of my plans and ideas. Though since I hadn't written any of them down, I didn't need to burn pages of now useless plans and ideas.

Though this meant my anger at being reborn here, and now having to scrap every one of my initial plans, was going to have to stew. Until I reached my fifth nameday, and learnt what the fuck was going on, nothing was going to calm my growing anger.

Over the last week, I'd been serving my punishment for swearing openly in front of my mother, uncle and others. Since I was still young, and I cover my arse by saying I overheard it in the yard one day, yet that didn't stopped mother from grounding me in my room for a week. While not great, it had given me time to go over the more obvious issues Alysanne's existence caused.

While there were a few issues in the southern kingdoms with no Jon being around (though those were all after Ned’s death and the War of the Five Kings, which I was unsure of how I’d attempt to alter to suit my plans) in the North, and beyond the Wall… well, shit was going to hit the fan much, much harder.

Jon not being there to take the black caused major issues for the Night’s Watch and the Wildlings. It would also affect others - like Samwell Tarly - that played important roles in discovering the truth about the Others. Not getting the Wildlings through the wall, which without Jon seemed unlikely, would give the Others a massive influx of… bodies for their army. And that worry had made it hard to sleep for the last week.

And of course, no Jon would have major implications for the Starks (and others) and Winterfell. Without Jon to bond with, Robb would likely gravitate more towards Theon, if that still happened. Theon, if he was at Winterfell, might not develop into the annoying shite he became without Jon around to pick on. While it was unlikely - Theon did come across as being very full of himself in the early books - I couldn't discount that a more balanced Theon might develop. However, if Theon did end up at Winterfell, then I was concerned he'd try and seduce Alysanne for the simple notch it would grant him of bedding a Stark. If that seemed a possibility, then I might have to arrange an accident for him before he could see it through. Provided I was able to do so, that is.

Catelyn would (hopefully) be nicer to Alysanne as the girl was less of a threat to Robb becoming Lord of Winterfell; though the counter to that was that I expected her vitriol towards me to be barely contained when I visited Winterfell. While I did want to see the castle and visit the Wall (not just because of their importance with the threat in the Lands of Always Winter) I had no interest in living there. Thankfully, mother and grandmother had shut down Ned’s suggestion that I return north with him (that had put my mother in a foul mood for a day or so though I’d only discovered why yesterday as I was now banned from being brought to any meeting in the solar due to my outburst) as they understood better than Ned did the problems of raising a Stark bastard in Winterfell would bring. Plus, with me in the North, I’d likely be cut off from the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, and while that’d give me more time to prepare for the future, it would also limit my ability to gather allies without raising the ire of those in power (I think.)

“Ship, Cregan. It’s pronounced ‘ship.’” Wylla replied.

“Ship.” I stated though I was well aware of the correct pronunciation. That drew a smile from Wylla even though I suspected she knew I could say the words clearly. I knew that if I started speaking with clear pronunciation and sentence structure it would generate problems, so I allowed small mistakes in grammar and pronunciation to ‘creep in’ to my words to alleviate some of the concerns others had (and, I hoped, divert the attention of Septa Railey who I’d overheard commenting on my ‘unnatural’ ease with the Common Tongue).

Beyond the North, a female replacement for Jon caused an issue with Targaryen claimants for the Iron Throne (provided that Viserys still died before Daenerys was ready to return to Westeros). While it would be a long time until Alysanne learnt the truth of her heritage (and I was leaning towards either trying to subtly nudge Ned to reveal that information or doing so myself if he died before he could) once she did, it would open an entirely new can of worms to deal with. If they had to support anyone for the Iron Throne, the North would likely rally around Alysanne (provided the Starks were still in power), while Dorne would probably support Daenerys. Of course, that would require that both live to be old and powerful enough to be in a position to try to claim the throne from whoever was on it at that time (and I found myself often praying that the events of the show were now consigned to the garbage with my presence altering events).

Still, many of my basic ideas (grow some form of powerbase, prevent Ned from going to King’s Landing – or at least help him keep his head, weaken Baelish, Varys, and the other major players) were still doable; though with me still a bairn, all I could do was plan, counterplan, and postulate for what I could, should or would do.

When Wylla shifted her gaze back to Alysanne, I shook my head. Every time I went down the roads of what had, would, and might change because there was no Jon Snow, I had a hard time pulling myself back. And after a week of doing so, I knew that I couldn’t continue to dwell on it; at least not right now. Being a baby sucked, but at least it was going to give me a great deal of time to develop plans (even if I suspected that most of them wouldn’t be worth the time put into them as something else changed because of my presence).

Apart from Alysanne’s very existence, two major changes that had occurred (or at least they were things that I didn’t think were ever confirmed to have happened in canon) were that my mother and grandmother were aware of Alysanne’s parentage and that Ned, Howland and the babe were still in Starfall a week after arriving. For the former, I suspected that Ned revealing that was due to the shock of meeting me and discovering that I could talk which would no doubt have major ramifications for the future.

For the latter, I was working from snippets of information that I could overhear (as no amount of using my baby cuteness – and that was fucking galling to have to do – was helping to return myself to my mother’s and grandmother’s good graces and when it did, the Northern party would likely have left), it seemed that, as thanks for returning Dawn to Starfall, grandmother had arranged for something to be done. Sadly, beyond getting Ned to return to the Tower of Joy to recover Arthur’s bones, I couldn’t think of what this thing grandmother had arranged could be. Yet, Ned hadn’t left Starfall since arriving, though that did mean that I was able to bond a little with him whenever he came to visit Alysanne and myself (since the girl was sharing my room for the time being.) Ned’ frequent visits also had me wondering if my being alive in this timeline (unlike the stillborn babe that Ashara was said to have had in the books) was a factor in delaying his departure.

I shook my head again. Every time I thought about the possible changes that had or would occur, I got distracted. Yes, I had time to consider them, but they were all I was thinking about currently, and that was an issue (as was that many of the possibilities I’d already considered seemed to contradict another one). Right now, these things were outside my control, so even though I did need to plan for the future, I also needed to understand that there were a lot of things that I simply couldn’t plan for in my current state or location.

Chaos may be a ladder, but it was a fucking weird one to understand, never mind climb. (Also, note to self, find a way to deal with Baelish – if possible – before the time of the books start.)

… …

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… …

“Leave it alone Cregan.” Mother ordered as I tugged at the neck of an uncomfortable lilac shirt with dark grey embroidery that mother had forced me to wear after breakfast. The thing was certainly well made and felt very soft against my skin, but the collar was a touch too tight to be comfortable; hence why I was constantly pulling at it while she held me in her arms.

When I’d asked why I had to wear this damn thing, I’d been told that someone of importance was arriving today and that I needed to make a good impression on them. Yet, as I was held by my mother, I saw my uncle Aldric – the new Lord Dayne – and his newly married wife, Joenne (formerly of House Wyl) were frowning. That had me suspecting that while this person was important, neither of them were happy this person was coming to Starfall.

“It’s tight.” I replied as I tried once more to pull at the collar, only for mother to rock me in such a way that I missed.

I frowned at her, though it did nothing but draw a wry smile from her, and my mind turned to what had happened over the last year or so.

Ned, Howland, and baby Alysanne had left about a moon after they’d arrived, though they left with an escort of twenty men-at-arms from Starfall and Wylla. My former wetnurse (boy was I glad she’d left and I was being transitioned to solid foods) had left in a cart with Alysanne in her care, and six large chests at the back of said cart. It’d taken some doing (read pleading mixed with puppy-dog eyes – which I was still uncomfortable using, but it was a tool I had to exploit). But I’d learnt that the six chests carried the bones of the men who'd been on Ned's trip to Starfall. From that, I was able to postulate that they were the men who’d died at the Tower of Joy, which was confirmed not long after my uncle returned, and my family had a private burial for Arthur’s bones. That action would create ripples in the North (I wasn’t sure what exactly – which had me cursing once more at not having read past A Clash of Kings) and hopefully remove some of the support the Roose had likely cultivated before the Red Wedding.

Since then – bar the marriage of Aldric to Joenne – nothing of any importance had happened. Or at least, nothing that I’d been able to discover. Even when mother had finally gotten past my cursing at the reveal of Alysanne (which I’d blamed on something I’d heard in the courtyard at some point) I’d been barred from the solar, or any meeting where house business was discussed. Now, this might just be my uncle and goodaunt laying down the law to my mother, but I suspected she hadn’t complained about it.

“You can take it off after, but not before.” Mother responded. “You need to make a good impression on our guests. They’re here because of you.”

That snapped my attention away from the collar. The only person I could think of that would come to Starfall because of me was Ned Stark, but the chances of him coming south again after the war were… slim, at best. Now curious as to who was arriving, I turned as best I could (being held was such a limiter on where I could look) to see the main gate to the courtyard.

Around the courtyard there were about three dozen guards lined up from the gate to the steps of the Great Hall (where I was with mother, Uncle Aldric and the rest of my family). The rest of the place seemed to be going about their regular business with fletchers, blacksmiths, traders, and other guards wandering around or working at various buildings that dotted the walls of the keep. I spotted Septa Railey talking with a few women near the entrance of the keep, but the less I dealt with that woman the better. From the few sermons I’d been forced to attend in the Sept, the Septa liked to preach on and on about the blasphemy of those who didn’t follow the Seven.

I’d never liked the Seven when reading the books or watching the show, but now, with her preaching reminding me of the way the Church had behaved in the Middle Ages, I was convinced the Seven (if they existed, which I doubted) could go fuck a lemon for all I cared. If I had to claim a religion, I’d likely follow the Old Gods. Though that risked being in sight of the Three Eyed-Raven, which was something I was hoping to avoid since he was such a fucked-up character (and even if I’d not read much about him in the books, I suspected he’d be worse there than in the show.)

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

After what felt like an hour (but was probably no more than five minutes) a horn sounded – signalling an arrival of importance to Starfall – and two Dayne guards came riding into the courtyard; each on top of golden horses (Sand Steeds according to Maester Cordin, who was about the only person of any importance not present for this arrival), though my eyes were instantly drawn to the banner of the group of six behind them. There, the direwolf of House Stark flew proudly in the wind, as if challenging any who dared threaten it.

“Uncle has come back?” I asked in slightly broken Common as the horses all came to a stop (including a wagon and six more Dayne riders who brought up the rear). I kept my sight on the six newcomers as servants approached to help them with their horses. All wore what looked like simple leather riding armour, though it was clear all were feeling the heat as every one of them had a red face and three all but snatched satchels from the servant once they’d dismounted.

Mother smirked as she gently bounced me in her arms. “No. And Yes.”

My brow creased at her reply, though I could easily see that none of the six were Eddard Stark (plus, if he’d arrived, the party would’ve been much larger than just six riders). An instant later my brow rose as I remembered that there are three named Starks at this moment in time: Ned, young Robb and Benjen. Before I could wonder about that, the lead rider approached the steps where I was with the rest of my family (well, my Dornish family.)

The rider was a young man, likely still in his teens, with dark brown hair that highlighted a sharp, angular face where a pair of bluish-grey eyes rested. Those eyes were something that caught my attention. In the show, Benjen had brown eyes, while the books had said blue-grey. Based on what I was seeing, I was leaning heavily towards this world being based on the books and not the show. Benjen looked slim, though I doubted he was underfed as he moved with the comfortable ease who’d been trained to fight and likely had lost some weight on the journey to reach Starfall.

The teen bowed as he reached the bottom of the steps. “Lord Dayne, I am Benjen of House Stark. On behalf of my brother, Lord Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North and the other houses in the North, I greet you and offer our thanks for helping my brother return the bones of the fallen Northern lords and nobles to their families.” His voice was soft, and a slight smile came to his face; though I noted it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

I heard someone shuffle their feet to my left (likely one of my aunts as both were standing there in dresses that matched the one mother was wearing – bar that mother filled hers out far, far more effectively) and there was a slightly longer pause than I would have anticipated before uncle Aldric responded.

“Lord Benjen, you and your guard are welcome in my halls.” Aldric began, his voice a touch tense and even though I couldn’t see him due to how mother was holding me, I suspected he’d glanced down at his missing left hand. During the battle of the Trident, it’d been cut off by an overzealous Vale fighter and after that (and getting stabbed in the back of his right leg just below the knee) he’d been captured by the rebel forces.

If not for the fact someone realised that he was a lord, he would likely have died from his wounds, which would’ve left mother as the Lady of Starfall. Although it left him with a notable limp, he was thankfully right-handed so had not lost the ability to defend himself with a blade if the need arose.

“I offer bread and salt within my halls to you and your escort and extend my thanks for your brother’s actions in returning Dawn, helping us gather the bones of my brother, and ensuring that our soldiers were returned to us.” Aldric finished, and I saw Benjen’s smile slip and his shoulder’s slump. “Did something occur on your journey?”

“Sadly, we lost two of them, and one guard of House Stark to raiders just south of Summerhall.” Benjen responded, his focus staying on Aldric. “We’ve brought their bones here so their families may have some solace, and I’d ask that, if possible, I am allowed to bury the bones of my fallen man in your Godswood.”

I felt mother shift at hearing about the deaths of the unnamed guards (at least to me). With the war still fresh in the minds of everyone – and Aldric bearing the wounds of that conflict – losing more lives to needless fighting likely had upset her.

“Then once again, I offer my thanks.” Aldric said, though this time the tenseness in his voice had noticeably lessened. “And know that while our houses fought on opposite sides of the war and are separated by almost all of the Seven Kingdoms, if any member of House Stark needs safe harbour in Dorne, House Dayne will provide it; provided we are at peace.”

The smile returned to Benjen’s face, though it was smaller than the old one, and he nodded. “Aye, and House Stark is grateful for the friendship of House Dayne. And on behalf of my brother, I extend the same offer to House Dayne should any member of your house ever find themselves in the North.”

“Who are you?” I blurted out. While I already knew the answer to that, I was getting bored of the little formal speeches both were giving (and wanted to get this damn collar off.) While the promises of friendship between the houses were unexpected but nice, they amounted to little as the odds (baring today and Ned stopping by to return Dawn) of either house needing such help were very small.

Benjen turned his attention my way and, after giving a brief nod to mother, his smile grew as our eyes met. “Ah, the young pup.” He began as he took a step towards me. “I’m Benjen, your uncle. My brother, your uncle Eddard, asked me to travel here to help train you.”

“Train at what?” I asked.

In canon Benjen had been the First Ranger of the Night’s Watch, making him skilled in tracking and hunting, but a sixteen-year-old boy wouldn’t likely have all that skill currently. Then again, him being here and not joining the Watch soon after Ned arrived back in Winterfell felt like a major ripple. Oh, it wasn’t on par with Alysanne (and I hoped nothing ever was) but it was a major change all the same. Now, there was still a chance he could still join the Watch, but given he said he was here to train me, and I was still a few moons shy of my third birthday – meaning he’d have to stay to train me until I was at least a teenager (maybe) – meant the odds on him joining the Watch – never mind climbing to the rank of First Ranger – were rather long.

Benjen shrugged. “Whatever takes your fancy; with your mother’s permission of course.” He added as I felt mother tighten her grip on me. As he continued, the smile on his face slipped for a moment before he restored it. “Starks generally don’t do well south of the Neck. Well, save your namesake Cregan Stark.”

“He’s a Sand.” Joenne replied bluntly. While Benjen seemed surprised by my goodaunt’s tone, and mother’s grip on me tightened even more, I wasn’t upset or surprised. Ever since she’d married Aldric, she’d been wary of me, and that wariness had only grown in the intervening months, and she’d failed to provide Aldric with an heir. Until she did, mother would remain the heir, placing me very close to the title of Lord Dayne. Though I’d stated I had no interest in being Lord Dayne (I’d claimed it was too boring), I was but a babe and everyone felt I didn’t fully understand what I was saying.

I had little interest in that title (or becoming Lord Stark) because while it would certainly help to have a ready-made powerbase to start from for what was to come, I’d also be constrained by the rules and customs expected of a Lord – or Warden – in Westeros. Yes, by staying a bastard with no titles I’d be starting from a lower point, but I’d have far fewer restrictions placed on me for what I wanted or needed to do. I hoped.

“Aye, my lady, he is. But that doesn’t mean he is not Stark or Dayne.” Benjen responded far more easily than I’d expected a young man to be able to do in the face of such vitriol. While he had been taken aback by Joenne’s bluntness, it didn’t seem to stay with him.

“He won’t ever be one; Dayne or Stark.” Joenne snapped, and I felt mother bristle at the harshness of her goodsister’s tone.

“Aye, but he’s a Stark by blood.” Benjen shot back only to stop and sigh. “Forgive me, my lady. It’s been a long ride and as a third-born son, my training was more aimed at warfare than diplomacy.”

“I understand.” Aldric commented, his tone remarkably light given to how serious and upset his wife sounded (the problem with being held was that I couldn’t turn my head properly to see people’s faces, thus I had to make judgements on their moods based on their words and tones). “Much like Lord Eddard, was not expected to become the Warden of the North, but then…”

“Aye.” Benjen replied as the mood in the yard shifted from tense to sombre.

“Perhaps we might continue our talk over some food and wine, a nice vintage of amber gold recently arrived?” grandmother suggested, speaking for the first time since Benjen had arrived. “Standing out here in this sun isn’t great for my old bones.”

“Of course, mother.” Aldric said and mother turned, taking Benjen from my line of sight, though it did let me glimpse my uncle and goodaunt. He appeared distracted, looking down at the ground, while Joenne’s face was marred by a scowl; one that grew worse as she spotted me. Thankfully, she didn’t say anything as she left my sight, and I watched as Benjen followed my uncle and goodaunt into the hall.

Just before mother turned to follow, I noticed the five guards that had accompanied Benjen. From their gear, and the placement of the Stark sigil on their armour, it was likely none were of noble birth, but merely members of the Stark household guard who’d been assigned to accompany Benjen south. Their hands stayed near the swords while their eyes scanned the courtyard for potential threats, which showed they’d been trained well (and knew they were in potentially hostile territory), and I’d expect poor or lazy escorts to have let their guard down the instant the offer of food was given.

That brought to mind an issue that had been bouncing around my mind for months. If Ned had stopped in King’s landing on his way back home (a possibility even if he left Starfall on a ship bound to Oldtown, then there was a fair chance that Robert and Jon Arryn were aware of me. And even if Ned hadn’t mentioned it to them, I had to suspect that Varys was already aware of my existence. Though with Benjen now travelling south to Starfall – a fact that wouldn’t have escaped the notice of any of the major players in Westeros – meaning my existence was a known factor. Hopefully, it would be a decade-plus before any of those players (Tywin, Olenna and Varys being the main ones currently in the game) considered me of any importance.

I sighed as mother carried me into the hall. I’d hoped that my existence wouldn’t cause any major ripples until much later, but that now made two inside my first three years. At this rate, all my foreknowledge would be useless before I could do anything with it. Chaos may be a ladder, but when the steps kept shifting, it was a fucking hard climb (and thinking that brought to mind the fact I needed to find a way to remove Baelish before he unleashed his form of chaos on the Seven Kingdoms.)

… …

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… …

Shortly after my third nameday, I once more found myself waiting with the rest of my family on the steps to the Great Hall, looking over the courtyard of Starfall. The major differences between when Benjen had arrived (and he was still here) and now was I was allowed to stand for myself, that my clothes were even finer – and thus more expensive – than then, and that a large part of the keep’s staff, if not the majority, were standing around the courtyard. The kitchen staff were busy cooking, and I did my best to ignore the smells coming from the kitchens that made my stomach grumble in anticipation, while any member of the guard that wasn’t on-duty was lined up in three rows between the main gain and the Great Hall.

Benjen stood off to one side – still prominent, but not close enough to the family to suggest that he was a part of it – and looked like he was about to faint under the full armour and wool cloak he was wearing. Likely this was the finest clothing he’d brought with him, but it was a piss poor choice for the heat of Dorne. His guards were standing behind him, far enough back to not impose on the Dayne guards, but close enough that they would be able to reach him if the need arose.

While I hadn’t learnt much from Benjen in the intervening moons (beyond him teaching me the banners and words of every Northern house and the names of many of the lords and heirs) he was always friendly around me and promised to teach me to ride and use a bow once I was old enough. Though what always made me chuckle was the fact Adrya had taken a liking to Benjen and would often find reasons to spend time around us (mainly by using me as her excuse.) I hadn’t commented on it, but both mother and Aldric had; much to Adrya’s embarrassment.

“Who’s coming?” I asked as I did my best to not pull at the collar of the silk doublet that was a dark shade of purple with grey accents and silver buttons that mother had forced me to wear for this. While the silk was very soft against my skin, the collar – just like last time – was far too tight and every time I turned my head, it dug into my neck.

Mother knelt and wiped a spot on my cheek before answering. “Someone important.” She replied as she stood then smoothed a wrinkle in the flowing lilac gown she was wearing.

As I looked up at her and took in the way the dress seemed to accentuate every curve on her body while subtly (for Westeros… maybe) drawing attention to her breasts, I was glad I was nowhere near puberty. If I was… well, I’d have likely earned an embarrassing talk with her later about why I’d reacted the way I had (and by the Gods, was I not looking forward to the day that talk was needed.)

Whoever was arriving was important to her, as over the last week she fretted about every little detail to the point that she’d angered my grandmother and goodaunt several times with her constant pestering. Clearly, she wanted to make a good impression on this guest, but I was struggling to think who would be worthy of this much of my mother’s interest.

I turned my attention from my mother and took in the courtyard. While my field of vision was limited by the number of people present – and my lack of stature – I could still easily make out the barbican of the main gate, several of the larger buildings dotted around the massive courtyard (I felt it could easily hold a few thousand souls with there still being room to move around), the Sept (the place I hated the most) and the various towers that dotted the wall of Starfall; in particular, the two that dominated everything bar the Great Keep. The Palestone Sword stood to the north and watched approaches over land and upriver while the Grey Spire stood to the south and surveyed any approach by sea. I couldn’t quite make out the Godswood but knew that it stretched from the Sept to the base of the Palestone Sword tower.

If I could avoid it, I’d go nowhere near the Sept (actually, I was fast approaching a desire to burn it down with Septa Railey inside) but I had to walk past it to reach the Godswood; which was a place that I found relaxing. With no Weirwood tree in the centre – an old oak tree stump was the centre of the wood – I felt safe from the Three-Eyed-Raven and found the quietness relaxing. Sadly, I was only allowed to go there under supervision as my mother was concerned that I’d hurt myself trying to climb trees (a logical, if misplaced assumption.) A smirk came to my lips as I remembered the first (and only) time Septa Railey had tried to ‘convince’ Benjen to reject his heathen gods and convert to the Seven. The blunt response he’d given her (and the less than subtle threat hidden within his words) had shut the stupid bitch up and I’d seen her actively avoid Benjen ever since (which was another reason I tried to spend time around him.)

A loud horn sounding drew my attention back to the main gate, and as trumpets played, ten riders came galloping into the yard. The front four were Dayne guards while the latter two were guards as well, though my attention was on the middle four. Two were girls that looked to be around Adrya’s age, or a bit younger as was the boy that rode just in front of them. Though as my eyes took in the man leading them, and the magnificent horse he rode in on (its fur was jet black like my hair, though the mane and tail seemed to burn like hot coals as the light caught them), I felt my eyes widen as I saw the sigil he wore. The spear and sun of House Martel was borne as the clasp of a red silk cloak that danced as if alive while his armour was leather tanned red, almost as if to hide any blood that got on it. A smile danced on the man’s face, though there was the hint of danger within the sharp features that made it clear this man was someone to be wary of.

“Presenting Oberyn Nymeros Martell, Prince of Dorne.” One of the lead riders called, and everyone fell to a knee. I followed suit, though as I did, I spotted that Benjen’s expression had locked, and his eyes narrowed as they kept their focus on Oberyn. And unlike the others, I kept my eyes up, wanting to take in the scene before me, even as I realised that this Oberyn looked nothing like Pedro Pascal from the show, all but confirming that wherever I’d been reborn, it was closer to the books in source material.

Oberyn slid from his horse before it’d come to a stop (and long before a servant could come to help him), looking like a man that demanded – and often got – all the attention he wanted. His eyes scanned my family slowly, and his lips twitched when they landed on my mother. I felt my mouth twist into a snarl as he did, which drew his attention. A single brow rose as our eyes met and as his smile grew, I felt a shiver travel up my spine. Oberyn was dangerous (something I was aware of from the show – though I again wished I’d read the books to learn how his fight with the Mountain went there) and I’d drawn his attention and curiosity.

“My Prince, Starfall is yours.” Aldric said, drawing Oberyn’s gaze away from me.

“Rise Lord Dayne and I thank you for the welcome.” Oberyn began as my uncle began to stand. “To see that even at the far reaches of Dorne, my house is still respected brings joy to my heart, as does seeing familiar faces.” He finished as his gaze shifted back to my mother. “And new ones.” He added as our eyes met once more.

As my uncle moved to reply, I realised that things had just got a lot more interesting for me (and that was before Oberyn even learnt who I was, or that Benjen was here with me.)

… …