A/N: And here is the final chapter for this segment of the story. Starting with the next chapter will be the time jump. As always, a big thank you to everyone who left a review, it really does mean a lot.
ASHARA
For the duration of his illness, Ulrick would have small bubbles of good health and energy before falling back into his near lifeless state. After the third of such dramatic drops in strength Ulrick knew the worst was upon him without any hope of survival. He tasked the Maester to write up a series of letters in order to ensure that Starfall was secure until Edric reached his maturity, with several old favours called in and all debts repaid.
Ulrick could not lift the quill to sign any of the letters himself but had the Maester do so for him. Ashara nearly wept to see her big brother, always so tall and dutiful, reduced to such a state. I must be strong, she told herself over and over. For Ulrick's sake I must be strong as steel.
Tentatively she kissed his brow. "Is there anything you need, anything I can do to help?"
"Yes," he said in the soft whisper his voice had become. "Stay with me Ash, sit beside me for a while. I'd like to feel your hand in mine, like when you were little. Do you remember?"
Ashara swallowed and nodded with a sad smile. "I remember it well. I used to come running to you at night during storms. You said that as long as I held onto your hand the winds wouldn't blow me away."
"I used to make out that I was disgruntled by you pestering me so," his watery eyes locked onto Ashara's with desperation. "But the truth was that I always felt comforted by it, sometimes I got scared too…you made me feel brave Ash."
She wasn't sure if she could speak without sobbing, so Ashara settled for squeezing his hand gently, trying her best to wipe away the tears that were rapidly forming in her eyes. Ulrick squeezed back as much as he could, and closed his eyes. Sleepily he went on, his remaining strength being used to voice his thoughts.
"You, Allyria and even Arthur… you were all like children to me in your unique ways, so I am at peace knowing that when I go, I leave Edric three siblings who will love him utterly." He breathed in as he shifted weight slightly. "You mustn't be sad."
Ashara couldn't help but sob at that, her whole body trembling as the tears flowed. "Aren't you….afraid?"
"Afraid?" Ulrick opened his eyes a crack and gave a soft laugh. "Dying is easy. It is trying to live that is hard."
"But I'll miss you."
He squeezed her hand again, softly. "There is so much more that the world will give you Ash. Each life is a journey with things only you can discover on the way. I've finished mine a little earlier, but in the end we'll meet each other again."
Ashara stroked his hair for a time and then fell asleep curled up against him. The next morning, when she opened her eyes, he was cold in her arms. She stared at the still figure that was once her brother, trying to see if there was any hint of him left within the body. Blinking back tears she laid her head back down and held his cold hand tightly. In a few moments she would have to get up and tell Allyria and Edric that the man who served as father to both of them was now dead, and would have to begin sending ravens across Dorne to all of Ulrick's friends. For the next few days his death would be all that there was to think about, but for the moment she stayed by his side and held her big brother's hand for comfort.
A few weeks after they had buried Ulrick some sense of order returned to Ashara's life. The Maester came to her constantly with various numbers that needed to approved, provisions that needed to be doled out, complaints that needed to be looked into. It was tedious work, but she found that it provided a sense of normalcy that had not been easily found since she had left the capitol. In the running of Starfall Ashara found a purpose and usefulness that she did not know she possessed and as such her grief was easier to shoulder.
Then the raven from Sunspear arrived.
The news of Oberyn Martell's death shocked all of Dorne, be they highborn or low. The Red Viper was much loved, and the news that he had been killed in an attack orchestrated by the Blackfyres put the fear of the Gods into everyone. Ashara found the matter troublesome and downright uncomprehensive. The Blackfyres have been gone for decades, how could they have killed Oberyn? And Why?
It was painful to leave Allyria and Edric at Starfall, but Elia's letter had seemed desperate. Fear for her best friend's emotional state drove her to act, and she thought that perhaps she could provide Elia with some level of comfort after having lost her own brother.
After making sure that the affairs of Starfall were all in order, and a long series of tearful promises were made to the children of her return, Ashara set off with a small retainer of guards. Though Elia had not explicitly stated as much, Ashara knew that she would be housed at the Water Gardens, tending to her brother's bastard children.
The journey was uncomfortable, with the cramped and jostling space inside the wheelhouse stifling any attempts Ashara made for trying to rest up. A dirge filled the night air as they passed by some small village, commoners crying for their lost prince who had perhaps graced them with his presence and good will in the past. Their mournful cries played on Ashara's mind. What will Doran do? The people of this land love Oberyn more than any other prince in living memory. They will want to see something done…
War was not something Ashara could live through again, not after having most of the ones she loved torn away in the last conflict. She wasn't eager to lose what few she had left, regardless of Oberyn.Why must one family's grief become the world's grief as well? Her thoughts troubled her all the way to the Water Gardens.
The rich beauty of the Martell home had visibly diminished when Ashara arrived. The children, normally a sight of living merriment, were much reduced in their playing, as though they could feel the grief hanging in the air. Ashara could feel it too, so heavy that she felt its burden like the weight of the world. Meeting her was the old Maester, Caleotte. He bowed as best as his old bones would allow and led Ashara inside, shuffling an agonisingly slow pace.
The old man had informed Ashara that the prince was not taking his grief well. "Prince Doran is a strong and steadfast man," he told her as they walked. "But to he loved the younger prince well, and struggles as all men do with their heartache."
Ashara gave the man a nod and made to enter the room. Caleotte caught her arm in his soft hand. "Please…be gentle my lady, Dorne has lost a sun."
Of all of the Martell children, Prince Doran took after his mother the most. The times Ashara had met the Princess of Dorne, she had noticed a distinct sense of quiet duty about the woman that was balanced with some private pain. Her eyes had a similar set to Doran's, the same constitution. The princess had on many occasions looked at the empty nursery at Sunspear with an ancient grief, the losses of all those babes still aching within her heart. Doran was much the same, only he had to endure pain of a physical sort as well. The thought made Ashara sad. It's always been as if the pain he holds in his heart has spread out into the rest of his body….
Seeing the Prince of Dorne now, sitting slumped in his chair under a thick blanket and eyes red-rimmed, Ashara saw years of grief unrestrained. He looked smaller than what Ashara remembered, as though he had shrunken back to try and make himself a smaller target for the pain and grief.
"I was sorry to hear about Ulrick," he said. His eyes were unfocused, his breathing slow. "He was always one of the most sensible men in Dorne."
Ashara swallowed uneasily. "He spoke of you in much the same way."
They sat in silence for a long minute.
"I grieve for Oberyn just as I do Ulrick." She would have said more but words wouldn't come.
"I know, Ashara."
"If there is anything I can do, I will."
Doran sighed, wiped at his eyes. "I appreciate that, but I don't think there's anything you can do. I don't know what anyone can do."
"It is said that he was killed by men loyal to a Blackfyre pretender," she bit her lip then forced herself to look Doran in the eye. "Is that true?"
The prince of Dorne made to speak, but was cut off by a familiar voice approaching them from behind. "We don't know for sure exactly what happened," Elia told her as she walked over to sit beside her brother. "Only that he was killed in the Red Keep."
Ashara regarded her best friend. Elia looked pale, her eyes heavy with exhaustion and red with recent tears, but held herself with a determined sort of strength. She's always been much stronger than everyone gives her credit for…
"Do you believe any of it?" Ashara asked, searching Elia's face for some hidden truth. "Or is it total fabrication?"
Elia's lips drew into a thin line. "Rhaegar spoke to me once about Blackfyres in the Free Cities, and often speculated that Lord Varys was not what he seemed," her dark eyes went cold as steel. "But I know that he has never held any love for Oberyn either. Who can say what happened?"
"Even our spies within the capitol are at a loss, and there has been no word from Hotah," Doran added sadly.
Ashara winced. The big Norvosi was never far from Doran's side, serving as both a sworn shield and confessor. Doran without Hotah just doesn't seem right, she thought. Somehow the bearded priest had engrained himself within the Martell home. They have lost both a brother and a dear friend…
Elia went over to her brother, whispered something in his ear and then helped him drink from a cup sitting beside them on a small tray. He drank the clear liquid, closed his eyes and lay back in his chair. Within moments his breathing evened out into a sleep rhythm. Wordlessly Elia gestured for Ashara to follow her into the next room and promptly locked the door behind them as they entered.
"I don't want Doran to see this," she explained, hurrying over to a large desk. "His gout has gotten worse, and the stress isn't helping things." The piece of paper in Elia's outstretched hand was simple, smooth and very white. "I received this a few days ago; it's why I needed you here, Ash. I had to tell someone."
Ashara took the letter and began reading, eyes slowly moving over the elegant script.
Elia
I wanted to write to you specifically about Oberyn's death rather than just deliver the same tired condolences and stiff words that I sent to Doran. I know from experience that a hefty age difference between siblings can lead to some level of estrangement, and you were always so dedicated to Oberyn. Born a year after you, he could have almost been your twin, couldn't he? As I understand it, when one twin is hurt the other can feel pain. How are you feeling?
You have always struck me as someone who grieves privately, hoarding your pain away and utilizing it for your own benefit. It's one of the many things I admire about you Elia.
Aegon misses you, and has been working diligently on a letter he intends to send you. He wept when I told him of Oberyn's death, though not for the uncle he only occasionally saw, no, our boy was crying for you. "Mamma will be sad," were his exact words. He has more heart than either of us it seems.
I have sent Oberyn's bones back and with a little luck they should be within your family's possession soon enough. It is my hope that they can provide House Martell some level of comfort during these trying times. On a related note, I have made a startling discovery. It seems your uncle Lewyn had been keeping a paramour and had even gotten her with child in strict violation of his sworn vows. You needn't worry though, I shall keep both mother and babe close by so that the scandal does not get out and sully House Martell's good name. I'm not sure if you've met the young woman, but I would like it if you kept her in your thoughts always. There are enemies everywhere after all and even the Kingsguard can fail. Oberyn never gave much forethought about how his actions affect others, but I know you always have.
Such is the life we live in; you are probably the only one who can truly hurt me where it counts Elia and for my part I can hurt you like no other. But while you might hate me, I cannot feel the same about you. I have tried, believe me. I think when two people share their lives so completely for so long it binds them in a unique way. Do not try to hurt me again Elia, or I shall react in kind. The sun and the moon share the world, why can't we? I'm sure Rhaenys would love to visit and Aegon too, circumstances permitting.
I hope you think on all this, and take what comfort you can from this. And advise. Be on the lookout for Aegon's letter.
Rhaegar,
Ashara frowned at the letter. "Is this some sick joke?"
Elia rubbed at her eyes in exasperation. Leaning against the desk, arms crossed, she looked quite casual, stronger even. There was a sardonic look on her face as she glanced at the letter in Ashara's hand. "It's meant to be a threat, and I think some genuine attempt at comfort. It's hard to tell though, he was probably very angry when he wrote that."
Suddenly the paper felt dirty in her hand, and Ashara had to put it down lest her hands get soiled by the Targaryen madness dripping within the letters. "Comfort? There are taunts littered throughout!"
"I have no doubt that he is pleased about Oberyn's death, but I don't think that his intention was to mock me." Elia slowly paced over to the discarded letter, read over it again. "He wants me to know that he holds the upper hand, yet he also tries to somehow win me over by dangling the children before me."
Ashara narrowed her violet eyes. "And what do you make of that? He's mad, powerful and fixated on you. He'd burn this entire place down if he thought it necessary," she bit down on her lip, thinking of Allyria and Edric back at Starfall. "Dorne can't survive a war Elia, and….I can't lose any more people, not now. I couldn't bear it, and I don't think Doran could either."
Elia's face softened and she drew Ashara deep into an embrace. It felt like when they were children, helping each other and confessing all their secrets. They were closer than sisters, and they had both lost someone they loved. As always, Ashara drew strength from the warmth of Elia's arms.
Her voice was soothing, yet determined as she whispered into Ashara's ear. "I shall not fight him Ash, not in the open. He desperately wants to hope that I might one day return whatever affection he still feels, and I will let him think that I have. I will allow my anger to lie dormant and play his little game even if it takes years, but when the time comes….I promise you Ashara, I will drown Rhaegar in misery the likes of which he has never known."
She was restless that night, lying in bed. The world's troubles floated about her and it was all she could do to lay still. Eventually sleep came over her, though it was not the sweet oblivion she had hoped for.
That night she dreamed of Ned.
"My lady, might I ask where we're going?"
Ashara glanced over her shoulder and flashed him a wicked smile. Of all the lovers she had taken, never had any of them held even an inch of Ned Stark's innocence, none of them as modest and humble. Her hand curled around his large calloused one. "It's a surprise," she told him in a mischievous voice.
He opened his mouth, perhaps to voice some complaint or warning about what would happen if they were caught, but seemed to think better of it and allowed the young Dornishwoman to lead him through the darkened field outside Harrenhall. In the corner of her eye Ashara could see him smiling to himself, and felt an odd flutter in her chest. It was so rare that he ever dropped his solemn countenance and allowed himself to smile. Ashara thought it transformed his whole being and decided she would do her utmost to make him smile as often as she could.
They reached their destination and at first Ned looked about in confusion until Ashara pointed out the large oak tree that hung over the rest of the garden. "It's a Godswood," she explained. "We don't have them in many places in Dorne, but Ser Oswell told me that this is his family's version."
His grey eyes fell on the oak with an unreadable expression. "The ones in the North are different," he walked over to an ivory stump, gently brushed his fingers against the wood. "The Weirwood tree at Winterfell has not been cut; the Old Gods keep watch…"
"I never knew you were so devout," she teased lightly. "Mayhaps you could become a Septon, or whatever you Northerners have."
There was that smile again. "We don't have so many rules up North,"
"Good," Ashara said happily, undoing the laces of her gown and baring herself to him. "They won't be displeased by this then,"
Ned looked at her, conflicted. "I would not dishonour you Ashara,"
Ashara closed the distance between them and slowly began removing his tunic, a laugh playing upon her lips. "I am not a maiden Ned Stark,"
He stilled her hands, shaking slightly. When she looked up at him she saw something in his eyes that she had never seen in any other man she had taken as a lover; a quiet and utterly singular sense of love. There was a struggle too, his heart and his head at war. "We shouldn't," he whispered.
"Shouldn't we?" she kissed him then, fierce at first, trying to coax him into it, before softening as he reciprocated. Breathless she rested her head against his, eyes closed. "What is dishonourable about how we feel?"
His hand went to her cheek, and love made him bold. "Nothing…"
He was untried and unexperienced, but Ashara helped him along. She taught him how to touch her and in turn learned what pleased him. It was much the same as their first dance, left both breathless and tired, yet oh so happy.
They lay together for a while afterwards, in each other's arms. Ashara told him of the red sands of Dorne, of how the sea kissed Starfall and how the mountains looked at sunset. He spoke of his northern homelands, the legends he had grown up with and places he had been. But mostly they talked of each other and what future they might yield.
"I know that I cannot offer you anything," he said quietly, struggling with his words. "I'm only a second son, and whatever my father leaves me would be a courtesy at best, and…there might be others that you feel are more worthy…but I…gods, I'm no good at this…"
Ashara lay on her side, watching him for a few moments as he struggled with himself. After a time she decided to put him out of his misery, giving him a soft kiss. "I'll speak to my brother about arranging it."
He blinked at her for a moment in shock before a look of pure joy spread across his face, making his grey eyes sparkle silver. They kissed again, and she felt his heart beat against hers.
Ashara woke with a start, struggling to breathe and unsure of where she was. After a few terrifying moments her sense returned, and she exhaled, leaning back into her bed. Her hand fell to the cold spot beside her, half expecting to feel Ned's warmth on it still. Trembling, she began to cry until sleep took her once again.
When Oberyn's bones arrived at the Water Gardens Elia and Doran looked ill, but when Ashara saw who it was that delivered the bones, she felt as though her heart would stop beating entirely. Once ceremony had been observed and the Martells had the remains of their brother back, Ashara made to leave, unable to look at the brother she had foolishly favoured in her adolescence. Arthur made to stop her, reached out, and was rewarded with a sharp slap across the face for his efforts.
She remained in her rooms for much of the day, fully intent to stay there until Arthur had returned to the king whom he had chosen over his own blood. A few servants, who had no doubt born witness to her little outburst, occasionally came by to leave food and refreshments, but otherwise she was undisturbed. Whatever Arthur had to say to Doran and Elia was keeping them well occupied.
The sun was hitting the horizon when he came to her. Ashara did not bother to look up from her small meal of fruits as he approached, merely went about eating as though he was not there. You weren't there when we needed you the most, why should I care if you show up now?
Arthur was not wearing his white cloak or his armour; he had that much decency at least. His face was deeply lined from lack of sleep, and his violet eyes had a haunted look about them as he examined her. "How…"
She closed her eyes for a moment, set down her utensils. "How did he die? Is that what you mean to ask?"
"Yes," his voice was like a sad echo of beautiful song. "Was he in any pain?"
Ashara opened her eyes in outrage then. "Of course he was in pain, we were all in pain! You weren't there! Ulrick had days where he could barely breathe from all the foulness in his lungs and yet still he managed to ask for you. He died of grief as much as sickness."
He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his pale locks. "I didn't know it was that bad Ashara, he never told me anything in his letters. If I had known I swear I would have-"
"What?" she cut him off sharply. "What would you have done, written him a lovely letter? Sent him some old sword for him to admire? He was our brother and you left him to die."
Arthur did not flinch away from her harsh words, merely listened in respectable silence until it was his turn to speak. "Do not think that I loved Ulrick any less than you. Not a day went by that I wasn't thinking about him or Allyria and Edric, but I had responsibilities Ashara. Commitments made long ago that needed to be upheld."
"Spare me," she hissed, rolling her eyes at her brother's pretensions of chivalry. "You never came when Ulrick needed you and you didn't help when I needed you either."
"I spoke against your banishment," he said with a sudden darkness. "I pleaded with Rhaegar to let you both stay in the capitol."
Ashara laughed bitterly at that, arms crossed and shaking her head in disgust. "You still don't get it, do you? When it comes down to it you always choose that white cloak and that oath and that bloody madman of a king. Do the rest of us mean so little to you? Is Rhaegar's friendship really all that grand?"
His face contorted then, a look of pain shot through him. "You are Elia's best friend; surely you can see how bias your point of view is? There is more to it all than you can possible understand. Things are not so black and white."
"He is mad," she insisted. "And you betrayed your family and your homeland in favour of him, I understand that much."
"I did what I did to ensure that my family and homeland had a future," Arthur paused, wrestled with himself. "You might call his dreams and his prophecies madness, but I know that not to be the case."
Ashara blinked in utter bafflement. Has his mind eroded too? Is insanity catching? "You are a fool then,"
"No, Ash," he looked into his hands. The same hands the wielded the finest sword ever created, the same hands that gifted him with a skill that was unmatched by anyone in the world. "You and Elia may have met him when the betrothal was agreed, but I have known Rhaegar longer. When I first came to King's Landing as Ser Lewyn's squire I was little more than a boy, practically tripping over myself to help the famed warriors of the Kingsguard. Rhaegar wasn't much older, and right from the very start I could tell that something was different," his voice trembled slightly as he recalled the memories. "I had hardly said all of five words to him when he approached me one day in the training yard, in tears and telling me that he had seen Father in his dreams, falling from his horse and breaking his neck. Of course, not two weeks later did Ser Lewyn sit me down and hand me the raven from Ulrick, now the lord of Starfall." His violet eyes looked up and locked on Ashara's. "That was just the beginning. He's been right about other things, yet in all the years I've known him he has been preparing for something big. When he told me of the prophecy, I did what I had to do… I helped him, became his closest ally."
Ashara struggled with what she was hearing, tried to make sense of it. "Even….even if it was true, and he did have some of the powerful blood that the old Dragonkings had, you still can't be sure that anything will happen as he sees it. If it's prophecy, then it is painted by his own perceptions," she thought of the rebellion and Jon Targaryen. "He has been wrong before, and there's every possibility that he'd be wrong again and that he'd hurt people Arthur."
"I know that, truly I do….but that is why I have kept by his side for so long," his voice was almost pleading. "If I can stay within his council, then perhaps I can keep his extremism within the realm of reason. Perhaps the words of advice coming from a friend could sway him. Ash, it has to be me."
"What can you do?" she asked with a shaky breath. "He seems worse than ever."
Arthur softened his gaze, and regarded her for a long moment. He looked so much like Ulrick that it hurt Ashara to meet his eye. "There is one thing that I was able to do, one life I could save despite all the madness."
He turned back to the door, opened it slightly and gestured to someone out in the hallway. A moment later a little figure with a mess of auburn curls came in. when he spotted Ashara he ran to her stunned form with a broad smile. "Ashy!"
Tears rolled down her eyes freely and undisturbed as Robb Stark threw his arms around her waist. For a few seconds all she could do was stare at him, her perfect and beautiful little boy, and the one last remnant of Ned that the world had given her. She knelt down and took him into her arms, holding him tight and whispering how much she missed him. He smelt of horseflesh and sweat, but she could not help but bury her face into his curls, trying to suppress a wave of tears that threatened to burst forth.
She looked up at Arthur. "Is this real?"
The Sword of the Morning gave a nod. "He's staying with you now."
Unable to suppress it anymore, Ashara gave a sob of joy and whispered a silent thank you, to Arthur, to the gods, to anyone that had helped make bring them together. She cast glance outside her window. The sun had set and the night ruled, yet even still the stars sparkled and shone brilliantly throughout.
