Falling Stars and Bright Sunlight
Homecoming
The wheelhouse was rolling slowly along the white road. The window was ajar, letting the fresh cold air in. A path of sunlight danced its way between the curtains. The mountain breathes, Ashara Dayne thought, feeling that she was breathing, too – for first time in months, if not years.
"My lady," her maid, Elysa, said. "Maybe we should slow down…"
Ashara tilted her head and her magnificent dark hair fell over one shoulder. "Slow down?" she echoed. "Hurry up!" she called out to the coachman. "If we keep going, we can reach Starfall before sunset."
"And before the storm that is coming finds us," Elysa murmured.
Even as she was talking, the first droplets started falling.
How they made it through the mountain storm, Ashara could not say. The sun disappeared, swallowed by a curtain of pitch-dark night amidst the bright day. Breaking branches, overflowing streams, wind so savage that it shook the wheelhouse like a tin box… For a while, she wondered whether they should seek refuge under a tree and wait it out. The only thing that stopped her was her fear that a lightning would strike their tree, of all trees, or the wind would break a thick branch right over their heads. It was so dark that the horses found their way only by instinct.
When the lights appeared, for a moment she felt as if her life was starting anew, as if the seven heavens had opened up for her. Salvation, salvation. And then, reality crashed over her like the thunderbolts searing the sky: there was no salvation. None. The Ashara Dayne who had just arrived here was still the same Ashara Dayne who had left King's Landing a week ago. Her shame was still with her, growing up within her. Arthur and Elia were still at King's Landing and the only difference was that she couldn't now see the danger looming over them – but it was there. She didn't even know whether Arel would accept her in their ancestral home. She couldn't blame him if he didn't. She had been supposed to make a magnificent match, to use her charms and knowledge to advance the family. Instead, she had squandered it all away for no better reason than a single night with a Northman. That was just as true here as it was there.
"My lady," the girl said, haltingly. "My lady, are you cold?"
Ashara silently took the fur-lined cloak from her hands and clasped it with the two silver brooches.
The lights were coming nearer, tantalizingly warm and welcoming. Starfall took shape in front of her, its towers startlingly white against the darkness of the night. Ashara poked her head through the window and cursed when the wind blew the torrential rain against her face and hair. Instinctively, she slammed the window closed.
The wheelhouse kept lumbering and Ashara fought to keep her queasiness away. Eyes closed, hands pressed to her mouth, she could only count her breaths and wonder what kind of welcome she would find when they arrived. After all, Arel wouldn't send her away in a night like that… right?
And then, shouts. The wheelhouse stopped. A heavy clanking of chains followed and the wheelhouse lumbered forward again, so suddenly that Ashara was thrown against the opposite bench. Soon afterwards, the horses whinnied and stopped again. They were now in the bailey of Starfall.
The coachman helped Ashara climb down, the freezing rain still beating against her face. Elysa followed. Ashara crossed the bailey, shaking, and stopped before a huge oak door that remained stubbornly closed. No stars lit the blackness.
Was that it, Ashara asked herself silently. For a moment of madness, she imagined how she'd be forced to spend the night here, how they would find her in the bailey frozen to death in the morning… maybe with her still unformed child next to her, forced out of her by the cold.
A crack made her look up. The door opened and from the inside, a burst of light made her eyes water. Arel stood at the door and removed himself as soon as he saw her. "Come in," he said. "You must be tired."
She stepped over the threshold and her head swam all of a sudden. He caught her immediately and drew her close. For a moment, she saw his face very close to her. They shared the same fair skin, the same violet eyes and dark hair. Now, his finely chiseled features were marred by concern. She tried to smile. "I am fine," she managed and tried not to faint with weariness, fear, and relief. "I am home."
"He just let me in," Ashara said as she was putting on the nightgown Shanai had warmed on the fire for her. "He was all, come on, are you tired, are you hungry?"
Her goodsister gave her a look of amazement. "Well, what were you expecting? That he's throw you out into the storm?"
Ashara laughed nervously. "The thought was not far from my mind!"
She snuggled up in bed and happily realized that Shanai had placed a few hot stones between the sheets. It felt so nice to wiggle her toes in the blissful warmth. Then, she looked at her goodsister, her face serious. "You know what happened to me, don't you, Shanai?"
The older woman looked aside; with a pang in her heart, Ashara realized how aged and worn out she looked. She was as beautiful as ever, her eyes soft, doe-brown, her hair a vivid auburn; but there was now a constant exhausted edge to her features. She had always been slender but now she looked downright gaunt. "I do."
She took a seat in a barrel chair and gave Ashara a long considering look. "Who is the father?" she asked. "Someone you have to marry?"
Ashara shook her head, grateful beyond words that she didn't have to explain the worst of the situation. "He's from the North," she said. "And he has a match arranged already."
Shanai nodded, clearly unsurprised, and poured Ashara a small goblet of Dornish red before leaving a plate of blood oranges on the bed next to her. Ashara drank thirstily.
"What are you going to do?" Shanai finally asked.
In the faint candlelight, Ashara's eyes glinted dark, like those of a cornered animal. The violet was completely lost now. "I don't know," she admitted. "I tried to get rid of it. I drank the moon tea. I had a special concoction brewed for me. All it gave me was a week of headache. I cannot force it out."
Again, her goodsister looked aside. Ashara could read her thoughts: why were the Seven so cruel? Why would they give a child to Ashara who didn't want it and in truth, hadn't created it with love but lust, and deprive of that Shanai herself?
"I'll have Maester Tiboult examine you in the morning," Lady Dayne finally said. "For now, all you need is rest. I expect that Allyria will sneak in to have a look at you sometime. If she starts tiring you out, just tell her so and that she should leave. Be stern. She won't listen otherwise."
Unexpectedly to herself, Ashara smiled. Bothersome. Unruly. Unwilling to listen. They had said the same things about her, once. She had missed on so much of Allyria's life.
"I will," she said and her goodsister rose to leave. "Shanai?"
The other woman turned at the door. "Yes?"
"Thank you. For everything."
Shanai smiled. "You're welcome."
Shanai's steps had not quite faded away when Ashara went to sleep, a slight smile on her lips. Nothing was lost. For now, she was safe. She was home.