B R E A K O F D A W N ||Game of Thrones [EDITING]

𝟮𝟵- 𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗡 𝗧𝗢 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗙𝗔𝗟𝗟

Dyanna's Dayne stood in the courtyard of Starfall, her heart heavy with the weight of her father's legacy and the long, difficult journey that had brought her here. She had always known who she was—the daughter of Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning—but the years of war, loss, and isolation had shaped her into someone else entirely. After the horrors of the Red Wedding, the loss of her family, and the cruel hand of fate, she had finally found her way here, to Dorne. But now, standing before her, was Allyria Dayne, Ser Arthur's sister, her aunt. Dyanna had heard the stories, had known of Allyria for years, but this was the first time they had stood in the same place. And even though she had hoped for a warm welcome, all Dyanna saw in her aunt's eyes was uncertainty and disbelief.

Allyria studied Dyanna for a long moment, her sharp eyes scanning her face, as if looking for something that wasn't there. "I knew of you," Allyria said at last, her voice measured. "I knew of the child born before Arthur's death—how you were given to Ned Stark. But to see you standing here now... it is more than I ever expected."

Dyanna's chest tightened at the mention of her past. She had been a child when her father died, barely an infant, and it was Ashara Dayne, her aunt, who had made the difficult decision to send her away. Ashara, broken by the loss of her brother Arthur, had not felt capable of raising a child, not with the grief that consumed her. So, in the end, she had sent Dyanna to Lord Stark of Winterfell, who had agreed to take her in as his own, to protect her from the chaos that engulfed the rest of Westeros.

"I am Ser Arthur's daughter," Dyanna said, her voice steady but tinged with emotion. "I've known who I am for as long as I can remember. I don't need to be reminded. Lord Stark told me the stories of my father, of Dawn, of who he was. I know what blood runs through my veins."

Allyria's eyes softened briefly at the mention of Lord Stark, but the disbelief lingered. She had heard of the child, the girl who had been given away so long ago, but the reality of it—the living, breathing daughter of her brother—was something she couldn't quite fathom. The pain of losing Arthur had been so deep, and Ashara's withdrawal into her grief after his death had left Allyria to shoulder the weight of the Dayne family. When Ashara died, so did any hope of their family ever truly being whole again. And yet, here was Dyanna, alive and standing before her.

"I knew of your birth," Allyria continued, her voice quieter now, the sharpness replaced by something more vulnerable. "But when Ashara died, she took the memory of your father with her. I never imagined that you would still be alive. That you'd come here, to Starfall, seeking us out." Her voice faltered slightly as she said the last words, as though the grief that had plagued their family for so long still lingered in her heart.

Dyanna held Allyria's gaze, her resolve hardening. "I was raised by Lord Stark in the North. I've carried my father's name, his legacy. I've survived the Red Wedding, lost everything I ever knew, and yet, here I am. I've come home. I thought perhaps I might find something here that I've been missing. A place where I belong."

Allyria's eyes widened as she heard Dyanna's words, and for a moment, she simply stood there, as though processing the enormity of what was standing before her. She had never fully understood why Ashara had given up her brother's daughter, why she had sent the girl to be raised so far from their family, so far from Dorne. But the burden of grief was heavy, and Allyria could never truly blame her sister for the choices she had made in her sorrow.

"It was... too much for Ashara to bear," Allyria murmured. "Losing Arthur, and then having a child to raise without him. She couldn't do it. She gave you to Ned Stark, because she believed you would have a chance at a better life than she could give you. And when she died, it was as though the last bit of hope for our house died with her."

Dyanna swallowed hard, the weight of her aunt's words sinking deep into her chest. She had known the sadness of her aunt's 's death, but hearing it from Allyria—someone who had lived through it too—felt like another wound to her already broken heart. Ashara had never spoken much of her brother after his death, had never allowed herself to fully love her brother's daughter in the way that an aunt should. And so Dyanna had been raised without the knowledge of her true family, lost in a sea of northern winters and Stark loyalty, until it became clear that she would never truly belong there.

"I know what you must think of me," Dyanna said, her voice low. "I've come here to claim what's mine, but I'm not asking for anything. I'm not asking for pity or for forgiveness. I just need... something. A place where I don't have to carry the weight of my family alone."

Allyria stepped closer, her eyes softening as she took in her niece. It was clear now, beyond the doubt, that Dyanna carried the blood of Arthur Dayne in her veins. The strength in her eyes, the quiet resolve in the way she spoke—it was unmistakable. She was Arthur's daughter. And though Allyria had spent so many years mourning the loss of her brother, she couldn't help but feel a strange, bittersweet comfort in seeing his legacy live on.

"You are my brother's daughter," Allyria said, her voice thick with emotion. "I never thought I would see you, never thought you would come. But you have." Her words faltered, as if the weight of it all was finally settling on her. "You've come home."

Dyanna blinked, feeling the tension that had held her for so long begin to loosen. It was a simple statement, but it held so much—so much history, so much grief, and perhaps, just a glimmer of hope. She had come here searching for answers, searching for family. And now, standing before her aunt, she finally felt the weight of that name, that legacy, settling into her bones.

"Thank you," Dyanna whispered, her voice thick with gratitude and emotion. She had never thought to hear those words, never thought she would be welcomed here, not after so many years of being forgotten.

Allyria reached out and placed a hand on Dyanna's shoulder, her touch warm and gentle. "This is your home, Dyanna. Starfall will always be your home. Your father's blood runs through these halls, and you are part of it. Always."

Dyanna nodded, feeling the walls she had built around her heart begin to crumble. She had carried so much pain, so much sorrow, for so long, that she had forgotten what it was like to be part of something. To be truly home. But now, standing here in Starfall, her father's house, she finally understood. She was not alone. She was family. And this was where she belonged.

For the first time in years, Dyanna felt her shoulders relax, as if a great weight had been lifted. Starfall was her home, and she was finally part of the Dayne legacy, standing in the place her father had once walked. And no matter what had come before, she knew now that her family, though broken and scarred, was still there to claim her.

But as the warmth of her newfound family began to settle within her, another thought tugged at the edges of her mind—an iron resolve, born of loss and the promise of justice.

She would heal here, in Starfall. She would learn to find peace again, to reconcile the ghost of her father with the woman she had become. But more than that, she would avenge the Starks, the family that had protected her when no one else would. Winter was coming. And those who had harmed her family—those who had taken her loved ones from her—would learn that the Daynes, like the Starks, never forgot a betrayal. The North had already given its blood. And Dyanna would see that justice was done. She would make them pay, for the Starks, their memories.

Because winter was coming. And it would come for those who had harmed the Starks.