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Falling Stars and Bright Sunlight

Epilogue

At the second day of their journey, Ashara could already tell safely the villages and towns where a battle had taken place. The markers were unmistakable – burned vestiges of houses, huge parcels of freshly disturbed earth to accommodate both those who had fought and those who had had the bad luck to stand between one of those and what they wanted, desperate eyes trailing their party, more hands raised in begging than ever before…

"Be careful," Arel warned, "or you'll find yourself without a single coin soon and you might well end up needing them."

Ashara did her best to listen but she could never be stern enough at the sight of the next small face raised to her in a plea.

The familiar stench of King's Landing greeted her from a lot further down the kingsroad that she remembered, or at least she thought so. And the sight of the Red Keep made her gasp. Despite the very detailed description Arel and Toral had given her, she had not been prepared.

"Aerys was mad indeed," she murmured, finally realizing the true extent of the late King's ailment in those sharp shards of walls rising up to the sky and the broad half-circle of ruins around this side of the Red Keep. Somehow, the fire had only taken half of the castle, so the undamaged side seemed to be mocking the ruined one. And Elia and the children had been in the wrong side? How had they survived? How bad Elia's injuries actually were?

"Come on!" she urged, forcing her sand steed into the fastest run of his life. Arel and Toral followed in a slower space, neither of them eager to reach the castle they had seen burn.

At the foot of Aegon's Hill, a wall of guards barred their way but let them pass after they said who they were – they were clearly expected. Still, a smaller party surrounded them and Ashara thought it was just to make impression. The gold cloaks could not possibly resist if the men in their group decided to draw their blades.

At reaching the top, they had to stop a passing servant to learn where Elia had been placed after the fire. When they reached her doors, Ashara looked at the men and they nodded that she could go alone, they'd find something to occupy themselves with, so it was alone that she crossed the small gallery to a shadowed set of rooms utterly unbecoming a queen but so very fitting a very ill woman.

Arthur, in his sparkling white, stood before a pair of double doors. At seeing her, he simply opened the doors and moved away. She acknowledged the gesture with a brisk nod, the same way she would have done any other guard, and as she came close, she once again realized just how terrible he looked after those few months as a prisoner in their own castle. He had was pale and exhausted, he had gained weight from the indolence that always caught up with him – and her – when they were confined to a closed space for a long time and his eyes were now of one who had looked in the face of hell and lived to tell the tale. That was new to her and she felt her fear grow. She went past him without even bothering to see if he was trying to catch her eye.

Magdeen Dalt was the first one she encountered inside; with a soft cry of joy, she flew through the antechamber and grabbed her. There were tears in the eyes of both young women, although they were, at best, polite to each other. "I'm so happy to see you!" Magdeen murmured. "It was terrible beyond belief, Ashara."

"How is she?" Ashara asked when she finally disentangled herself. "How could such a thing happen?"

Magdeen laughed harshly. "Easily! We were all confined to the Princess' chambers and made aware that our lives were worth nothing, so no one thought to even unlock us when we heard that rumbling and the Red Keep went down. When the rubbles of the antechamber were finally removed, the curtains in the Princess' solar were already burning and she and Prince Aegon were both unconscious. They saw her pushing that burning log away from Prince Aegon's cradle with her bare hands but before they could reach her, she caught the fire…"

They spoke for a few more minutes before Madgeen went to the door of the bedchamber, knocked discreetly and went it. Immediately after, the door opened.

"Lady Ashara," a familiar voice said. "Come in."

Ashara sank into her first curtsey before their new king and prayed that her hatred burned him alive, like his father had burned half of the Red Keep. Of course, it didn't.

She followed him into a semi-dark room, slowly, so her eyes could get used to change. Elia Martell, the new Queen of the Seven Kingdoms – one of two, what a joke! – lay in a huge bed, smaller than Ashara ever remembered her to be. Her arms were all in bandages and Ashara wondered where else she had burns – not scarred yet. Just incredibly painful. When she knelt next to the bed, her face came even with Elia's; shocked, she saw the lines around her eyes and mouth. They're due to suffering, she thought. They'll go away. They must. Elia could not stay forever looking like an old woman when she was still twenty-six!

Rhaegar tried to come near but Ashara's dress was in the way. Pointedly, she didn't drew it closer to her, glad to be able to create an inconvenience to him, even such a small one as having to circle the bed. "Do you need something, Elia?" he asked, trying to catch her eye. His hand reached for her bandaged one and stopped within a touch.

Elia did not encourage him to go further with the caress. "Ashara will attend me," she said. Her voice was faint but clear, whatever damages the smoke had done to her lungs clearly going away already.

"But she has no idea about your needs… now."

The pleading in his eyes made Ashara want to retch. Perhaps that was why Elia refused to look at him. Retching was the last thing she needed. "Then, my other ladies will step in."

The dismissal was polite but clear. Finally, she turned her head to look at him and whatever he saw in his eyes made him shudder visibly. He rose. "Very well, then. I'll come again tomorrow."

He looked at Ashara. "I heard that there's going to be a joyous occasion soon, Lady Ashara."

"Yes, Your Grace," she confirmed and felt a burst of malicious delight at the thought that his own unholy union with the Stark girl would not be considered a joyous occasion by anyone else but him and her. "I wished that the Queen could attend but…" She paused.

"There will be some time before she can travel," Rhaegar said.

That's putting it mildly, Ashara thought. Right now, she prayed that Elia would be able to travel as far as this door.

"But I can give Arthur a leave from his duties to attend the celebrations," Rhaegar went on and Ashara shook her head.

"We wouldn't want to disrupt his service," she said. "There is no need, really, Your Grace."

Finally, he left and she reached for Elia's hand, willing the tears away.

"I'm so glad you came," Elia said. "I wasn't sure you would."

"Of course I came," Ashara said. "As soon as I read your note."

The letter had been delivered by the same people who had come to take Rhaegar's second queen to the capital. Of course, Ashara had refused to go with them and instead had left with a party of her own.

"They're dead," Elia whispered. "Do you know they're dead? My uncle Lewyn died at the Trident as well."

Ashara nodded, counting the loved ones Elia had lost just in the last year and a half. Five of them. When the tears ran down Elia's face, Ashara realized just how dry and hardened her skin had become – the streamlets looked as if they were actually cutting through it. Ashara wondered if that caused her pain.

"You're alive," she said. "Rhaenys and Aegon live."

But that was such a scant comfort.

"Why did you send for me?" Ashara asked, suddenly scared that Elia would want her to take her onetime duties once again. She could not refuse, not with the Princess like this. But she wanted a life of her own. A future. Not a gilded existence in the decorated but pale echo of the dreams and expectations both she and Elia had held.

"I wanted to see you," Elia said as Ashara bathed her face with a wet cloth. "To say goodbye, I guess."

"No!"

All of a sudden, Elia laughed – a weak laugh that sounded more like a cough shaking her frail body but it was a laugh nonetheless, genuine mirth that made her eyes sparkle as they once had. "By the Mother, Ashara, you do wonders for my self-esteem! It's nice to see someone caring so much… But no," she went on once she stopped laughing entirely. "I am not planning on dying anytime soon. I am not making this easier on them! I'm not leaving Aegon's inheritance relying on Rhaegar's guilty conscience, as short as that would last. And I'm not confirming everyone who thinks me too frail right. I just… I don't expect I'll see you anytime soon, with you getting married and all. Even when I recover, it isn't likely that I'll be allowed to go to Dorne soon."

If ever, Ashara thought. Not with the children anyway. Rhaegar would never let her take his precious heads of the dragon away, at least as long as he thought they were that, and once she reached Dorne, she might decide that the life of an unwanted queen was not worth it. Ashara had the feeling that once the Stark gave him a new batch of dragons, that would change. But Lady Ranna wasn't sure the girl would be able to conceive at all again… Her first birth had been scary enough.

"Are you going to get wed at Starfall?" Elia asked. "Or Wyl?"

"Starfall," Ashara said. "This far, half of Dorne has been invited."

With the hushed circumstances of Arel's own wedding, there was no way to avoid the great ceremony now. And it would be the first wedding of prominence in Dorne after the rebellion.

"I wish I could come…" Elia's face was both pleased and wistful. Then, she snapped to sharp attention. "Do you really not want Arthur there? If you're doing it because of me…"

Ashara quickly shook her head. "No. I only want people I can trust." She paused. "Are you going to let him keep guarding you?"

Elia smiled wryly. "Am I in a position to refuse? He goes wherever Rhaegar and Ser Gerold say he does. I wasn't asked."

"But the King…"

It was obvious that Rhaegar would give Elia whatever small favours she wanted of him, to atone for the public humiliation he was about to make worse.

"I don't mind," Elia said. "Truly. He's as competent as any other Kingsguard. Although I might have preferred Ser Jaime," she added.

Ashara examined her without saying anything and that clearly annoyed Elia who stirred. "What?" she asked.

"Do you truly not care? When we were young, the two of us and Arthur…"

"Yes?"

"I thought you might be in love with him."

The silence drew so long that Ashara was afraid that she had overreached. Their friendship was long and true and sometimes she forgot her place. But then Elia shook her head, albeit slightly. "He isn't the man I will love forever," she said. In her tired eyes, a dark flame rose, a flame that was so much like Prince Oberyn's. Elia almost rose on her elbow. "He's the one I'll hate for the rest of my days," she all but hissed.

This small burst of feeling exhausted her. She fell back on her pillow, gasping, but when Ashara rose and reached down to her, she shook her head no.

"Send your betrothed to me," Elia said. "I want to see him."

Ashara blinked. "You do? But why? You don't even know him…"

In Elia's eyes, the old playful sparkle returned. "You mean you didn't know him," she said. "He's Doran's friend. I've been around him often. Tell him to come. And tomorrow, it's your brother's turn. I want to talk to them… without anyone here," she said, making a good guess what Ashara would want to do. "I won't be exhausting myself," she added. "Call him."

Somewhat to her surprise, Ashara found Toral in the gallery. Arel had made his escape, it seemed. She beckoned her betrothed and nodded at the door. He entered without questions.

Arthur came to her. "How is she?" he asked.

"She'll live," Ashara said, telling him no more than what he knew.

They waited without looking at each other but after a while, it became tiring, so Ashara entered the antechamber and shamelessly tried to eavesdrop on the conversation at the other side of the door. She could hear Toral's voice but she couldn't make out the words, save for an occasional one or two. But when he finally left, the pleased expression on his face told her that the conversation had gone well.

"What did she want?" she asked.

"To make sure that I'll take good care of you," he replied readily. "I will, you know."

Ashara's heart was beating fast. She linked her hand through the solid warmth of his arm, not caring how indecent it was for two people who were only betrothed yet, and let him lead her out of the shadows and guarded words that had become Elia's world now, the world that Ashara was leaving.

"I know," she said as they stepped out into the bright sunlight. "I know."

The End