Robb and Alyssa were inseparable. From the moment they could walk, they were side by side — in the training yard, in the library, in the godswood. While Robb was the proud and steady heir of Winterfell, Alyssa was the fierce heart behind him, sharpening her blade and her mind in equal measure.
They balanced each other — his calm to her fire, her cunning to his honor. No one dared question their closeness; to do so would be to challenge the will of both wolf twins.
But it wasn't just Robb Alyssa adored. She had a tenderness in her — one she saved for her younger siblings. She braided Sansa's hair each morning, told Arya stories of warrior queens, and sat quietly beside Bran's cradle whispering old songs. Even Rickon, barely walking, would waddle after her with a giggle.
She was their protector. Their shadow. Their fire.
On her ninth name day, she stood before her father in the solar, posture poised but her eyes alight with certainty.
"I want Moat Cailin," Alyssa said.
Eddard blinked, surprised. "The old stronghold?"
"I want to be named its lady," she clarified. "It's the gateway to the North, and it's wasted in ruins. Let me rebuild it. Restore it. It will be mine to guard — for our family, for the North."
He studied her for a long moment. "You are young still."
"I'm old enough to see what others overlook," she replied softly. "Give me Moat Cailin, Father. Let me make it something worthy."
What she didn't say — not until he pressed further — was that she had gifts. Powers that hummed beneath her skin and memories that did not belong to this world. When Eddard looked upon her with quiet uncertainty, Alyssa raised her hand and summoned a flicker of light in the air between them — not flame, not illusion, but a shimmering ripple of possibility. A glimpse of a map that did not yet exist, glowing with potential roads, canals, and systems.
She let it fade quickly, her breathing steady. "I can help the North prosper, Father. I remember things... things that could feed our people, keep us strong. Let me use that knowledge."
Ned didn't speak for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded — not in full understanding, but with the wary trust only a father could give. She would have her chance.
And deep within those crumbling stones, she would use her gifts — bend reality if she had to — and mine the echoes of her past world for technologies, infrastructure, agricultural systems. Anything to make the North independent, strong, and rich.
Eddard Stark agreed, but not without conditions. Alyssa would be named Lady of Moat Cailin, but she was to return to Winterfell often, to stay close to her family and remain grounded in the values of her house. He would not have her isolated by ambition, nor lost to the weight of responsibility too soon. If she was to rise, she would do so with roots still firmly planted in the North — and in the Stark name.
The Flame Across the Sea
And far away, across the Narrow Sea, a different flame stirred.
Daenerys Targaryen knelt beneath the night sky as Melisandre of Asshai walked slowly around her. The Red Woman's eyes glowed like coals, her hands lifted in silent prayer.
"You were born of death and fire," Melisandre murmured. "You are flame made flesh. The Lord of Light has shown me your path, Daenerys Stormborn."
Daenerys opened her eyes, the candlelight dancing in her silver hair. "And what does your god say?"
"That you will rise higher than all who came before you — but not alone," Melisandre said, voice thick with prophecy. "You will bring fire, and she will bring chaos. One is not complete without the other."
"She?" Dany asked, confused.
Melisandre smiled. "You will know her when the time comes. You will feel her before you see her. The girl with the storm in her soul. But I think you already do," she added, her voice softening. "You see her in your dreams, don't you? A girl born for you to love and protect, tied to your destiny all the same."
And Daenerys — though unsure why — felt her heart tremble with something warm and ancient, something that pulled at her soul like a familiar name whispered in the dark.
Something that felt like... a bond already forged in dreams and fire.
Daenerys turned to Melisandre, her voice hushed but firm. "Will you teach me? If there are things I must know — about her, about myself — then I want to learn."
Melisandre inclined her head, eyes gleaming in the candlelight. "The fire has already chosen you, child. And I will show you what it reveals."
Daenerys didn't look away. "That isn't enough," she said softly but with steel beneath the words. "I need more than fire and dreams. I need knowledge — of the world, of history, of politics. Things my brother refuses to let me learn. But I must. To survive... to rule... to find her."
Melisandre's expression turned solemn. "Then we begin not with flame, but with knowledge," she said, voice like velvet over stone. "I will teach you of the world your brother hides from you — of kingdoms and bloodlines, of betrayals and power. I will teach you to listen for the unspoken, to see what men wish to keep veiled. You will not walk blindly into destiny, Daenerys. You will rise to meet it with open eyes and sharpened mind."
Daenerys hesitated, then asked quietly, "And her? Will you help me find her? Teach me more about who she is — where she is? I need to know how to reach her. I need to understand what we are to each other."
Melisandre studied her in silence for a moment, then gave a knowing nod. "She is veiled in shadow and distance, but your fates are woven together by threads stronger than time. The fire cannot show me everything, but it will show enough. I will help you find her — when the moment is right. And when it is, you must be ready to face what the fire reveals."
Daenerys's expression hardened, her young voice full of iron. "She's mine," she said. "The girl in my dreams — she belongs to me. I don't care who tries to hide her, or take her from me. I will burn anyone who dares."
Melisandre's eyes lingered on her for a long, thoughtful moment, before a smile tugged faintly at her lips. "It seems, then, that in this bond... you are the alpha."
Daenerys blinked, confused. "Alpha?"
Melisandre nodded. "The one who leads. The one who protects, claims, and guides. She is yours to cherish, Daenerys — and yours to shield from all who would tear you apart."
Daenerys tilted her head, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "If I am the alpha... then what is she?"
Melisandre smiled gently. "She is your heart. Your soul's match. The one who follows the call only you can make — not because she is weak, but because she is yours. She is the one you were born to love, to protect, and one day... to lead beside you. And she is the one who alone will carry your legacy within her — your children, your future, born through a bond no force can sever.
Daenerys frowned slightly. "But... how can I sire children? I am no man."
Melisandre's eyes glinted like coals. "When two souls are bound by fate and fire, the rules of flesh bend. In the moment of your union, the Lord of Light will make a way. You will give, and she will receive — as it is written in the flames. If it is not clear you will grow a cock to bed your love."
Daenerys looked down, quiet for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Then I will be ready — for her. For whatever we must become."