"As soon as we knew the six fastest ships to Andalos," she told Jasper who was propped up on four pillows, arms lying feebly by his side and breathing heavily as he spoke to them.
"Good," he said with relief. "I'm not dying yet, not until... until... Arlan."
"He'll be here father!" Cat swore. Their daughter was knelt next to the bed, holding one of his hands tightly with both of hers.
Jasper nodded. "We need to make preparations. Unlike my father, I know my death is coming, and in many ways that is a gift. The succession must be smooth, that is essential, but people must now be made aware."
"Is that wise, father?" Durran asked. "Let it be known that you are dying. Discontented nobles may try to take advantage."
"They may," he agreed giving a small cough, "but most will come for the funeral, not out of respect for me, but to press themselves closer to you. We will use this opportunity. After I am dead, have a grand coronation and take their oaths of fealty. Let them leave here not with the knowledge that the king is dead, but that the king has risen."
"I... I'll make preparations at once, father," Durran replied, his voice stiff and on the verge of breaking.
Jasper nodded. "You'll do me proud, Durran, I know it." He turned to her. "Arya, you must send out the letters to the Lords Paramount, they will listen should the words come in your hand. Send them now, when you leave this room, bid them hurry for the funeral and coronation of Durran.
She nodded. "I will, Jasper, I promise."
He gave a hacking cough and Myrcella stepped forwards. "Please, his grace needs rest. You are stubborn brother, but if you stress yourself you won't last the weeks until your son arrives."
He clearly wanted to object, but backed down, incapable of resisting now. "Very well, leave me."
"Not me, father," Cat said, squeezing his hand tightly. "I won't."
He squeezed back. "No... I wouldn't expect you to, Cat."
"We'll come when we have news," she promised, leaning over and kissing him softly.
"And I'll stay alive to hear it," he promised in return.
()()()
"How are they handling this?" Arya asked Laena as they watched over her sons. Her daughter in law was dressed in a deep purple dress that matched her eyes and contrasted well with her hair.
Laena smiled as Stannis was playing king while Ormund watched on and giggled with the governess, Laena's bastard sister Leonette. Leonette had been welcomed into Laena's household, but Oswell, her brother had never gotten over his bastard nature. He had gone to Essos and taken up in the Household of Lord Bryan Lettan hoping to make a name for himself, where he'd fallen in battle with the Dothraki. "Well aside from the fact that they haven't seen their grandfather since he was coughing blood last night, their father is suddenly too busy to talk to them and the castle is a hive of activity... they don't really know what's happening, I think the distractions help them."
"It will all change for them soon. Soon they'll be princes, Stannis will be the heir to the throne and Boremund a prince of the blood," the gods knew the change that Jasper had gone through when he became a king. Hopefully they would be able to handle it.
"And I'll be the Queen," Laena whispered.
She looked at her good daughter. Despite having known it her whole life, she looked thoroughly unready, eye's full of fear and her face set with doubt. She reached out. "Laena, you've been helping me for years. You are beautiful, you know your duties and you accept them. When I began I was younger than you and had no idea what I was doing. It hardly crossed my mind when Jasper came to me, begging me to marry him, promising me everything I had ever wanted to make me say yes. Now hear I am. I managed. I gave him three sons and a daughter, I don't think I did a bad job raising them and there have been worse Queens. The one before me for starters. You will be as much better than me as she was worse. If not more. I have faith in you and... if you need help, Durran will still be here, you can confide in him and ask what he needs of you. Ultimately, if you are there for him, as a shoulder to cry on, someone to confide it and support him, you will be a good queen."
Laena looked at her and smiled. "Thank you," she whispered. Her eyes teared up. "I can't believe he's really going. He was always... always there, always strong, but he always treated me well, even after Durran's rebellion, but now he's... he's."
"Hush now," she said to Laena, pulling her in for a hug, hiding her own tears beside her. "It's okay. It's okay..."
They pulled apart and dried their eyes. "I saw the candles last night," Laena said. "From out of my window. The city mourns for their king, and he isn't even dead yet."
She nodded. She had seen them as well. The announcement had been made in every square in the city the same day she had written to the Lords Paramount. Whatever the lords felt, the people of the city remembered Jasper as the man who had saved them, first from Renly Baratheon, then from the Red Men. Then he'd flooded the city with wealth and peace, reformed the gold cloaks and brought it security. They were always on his side and would mourn him, and that was why they stood out at night with candles lit in the night like a field of golden jewels in the darkness. Word had likely reached every town in Westeros by now and be filtering down to the villages. Full of nameless peasants who wouldn't care less that the best king in living memory was fading away, who cared only for fields and crops and cows. "We should go to them soon, I suspect that the funds are ready."
Laena nodded. "Sister," she called. "Can you watch over my sons?"
Leonette smiled. "Of course."
"Shall we go then?"
Arya nodded. "Yes." They were to give out charities of food and coin to the people of the city, coin for their prayers and support in this dark time and food as a gift and proof of the king's generosity at the end. She didn't see the point, but Jasper was quite insistent, and who was she to disobey him on the last days of his life.
()()()
The first week passed. She couldn't share her husband's bed any longer and, in her own sorrow, she had invited Cat to come and stay with her at night. Her daughter had taken her offer. She was the most hard hit. She had worshiped her father, loved him more than she had her, she had no doubt, and Jasper had always doted on her. She had been born when the Kingdoms were settled. By then, Arlan and Durran were young boys, Durran already being schooled in arms. There were still matters to settle after Robert's birth, but he had been there for the announcement of her pregnancy with Cat all the way to the birth. He always doted on her as well. He felt that his sons had to be toughened, they had to be warriors, and Joffrey had been proof of what a prince could be if he wasn't raised well. But Cat was a princess. She would be married off to another, not to be trained in hardship, so he could dote on her as he couldn't with his sons. And he had hoped that after Cat's birth he could rule Westeros in peace, he saw her as hope of that, never wanting her to lose her innocence, even when he had to go and do battle with his son.
The lords of the Crownlands started arriving to pay their condolences to the king and offer their love and support to the family. These were some of the most loyal of lords of the King, men who owed oaths directly to him and saw him most often. Half way through the second week the first of the Lords Paramount arrived. The eldest of them all, Lord Edmure, his auburn hair fading to grey, a thick beard on his jaw and several lords of the Riverlands at his back.
"Your Grace," he greeted her warmly.
"Uncle," she replied, smiling as she embraced him tightly. "I'm so glad you've made it."
"My own niece wrote to me," he replied, smiling at her. "Family, Duty, Honour. I couldn't refuse if I wanted. I know the king and I have had differences. But he is a good man, and I intend to pay my respects. As do my lords."
"I'm glad," she replied. "He is resting now, but he is not long for this world."
"We shall stay," Edmure promised. "And I would like to see him, if that is possible."
She nodded. "I can make it so, but if you wish to discuss a matter of politics, Durran is-"
"This is not a matter of state," he said. "I simply wish to pay my respects in person."
"Of course. Please, join me uncle, we can see if he is available now."
They came one after the other. Lord Ormund was first with the loyal stormlords at his back. Jaspers cousin racing across the Rush to pay his respects. Lord Edric raced in on horseback, though few Dornish lords came with him. Considering what Jasper had done to them, she wasn't surprised, but Edric came sincerely to pay his respects to his king. Shireen brought what seemed like half the Reach with her, every lord and their son with their lady and her children to pay their respects to King Jasper, or get close to Prince Durran. Shireen hadn't waited to be escorted before charging to meet her cousin, emerging from his bedchamber with tears on her cheeks. Then came her sister and her husband. Lord Arryn sailed in with the Lords of the Vale and, while they were with her husband, she and Sansa talked in her solar.
"I'm so sorry Arya," Sansa said. Her red hair was flecked with grey now and the lines of age were showing on her face.
"Thank you," she replied, trying to smile encouragingly, but it hurt too much. "I... we've known it was coming but... but we... I..."
Sansa drew her into a soft hug and Arya pressed her face into her sister's shoulder. It was never meant to be like this, Sansa was the weepy one, not her, she didn't shed tears like this. "You were the first in so many ways Arya," Sansa said. "First of all of us to be married, first to have a child and now you are the first to become a widow."
"It was never meant to happen," she whispered. "You were the one who was supposed to be the Queen. Have the husband and the children."
"I do," Sansa replied, "apart from that last bit. But then again, if I'd married Jasper after he became king... what would have become of us? How could I be happy with a man who would rather lay with my sister, and how could you be happy when the man who loved and accepted you was with your sister. Arya, do not dwell on the dark times to come when Jasper leaves us. Focus on the good and the happiness. Every time I am reminded of my captivity with the Lannisters, I think of my children, or our own childhood, or some of the personal time I have spent with Harry. In another life you could have let darkness consume you, and I would shudder at it. Don't, you deserve so much more."
She nodded into her sister's shoulder but said nothing. She didn't want to think of her life if Jasper hadn't been there. Who would have helped her through her father's death, who would have let her be what she wanted to be, what would have become of her, she didn't know, but it was no doubt worse than what she had.
Lord Tommen came next at the head of the Westermen to pay his respects to her husband, his brother. He came with the ironmen under Lord Blacktyde who, like Edric, came without most of his vassals. The only one left was Robb, her brother. He would come, wouldn't he? He wouldn't leave her now?"
He didn't. He sailed in several days later, with his wife and their mother, who, though old still held herself tall and proud. "Brother," she raced to embrace him, all dignity forgotten as he engulfed her in a fierce hug. "You came."
"You didn't think otherwise did you?" Robb asked. "Of course I came when my sister asked." He looked at her seriously. "Is it true? Is he really dying."
She bit her lip and nodded. "He is, we don't know if he has long. Myrcella says he's only alive because he refuses to die right now."
"That sounds just like him," Robb said with a wistful smile.
"It does," Lady Wynafryd said. "How is Ned taking the news?"
"He's been with Durran most of the time, helping him come to terms with it."
"That sounds like my grandson," her mother said, pulling her into a hug. "You look well, my sweet girl."
"I'm not," she whispered back.
Her mother nodded. "I understand. We'll talk later, I promise."
"Thank you," she whispered. Her mother was the only person who'd gone through this that she knew of.
When Robb went to see Jasper, she went with them. Her brother and her husband hadn't had the relationship of their fathers for a long time, not since before the war. They had to make their peace with each other, here at the end.
Jasper was asleep when they came to him, chest rising and falling, his arms resting on his stomach. The left side of his face was still damp from when it had last been doused with cold water. She dismissed Myrcella and the Grand Maester, this would be between them and no others, and shook Jasper awake.
He groaned as he cracked his eyes open. "Arya," he whispered, smiling at her. "And Robb... you came... I'm glad."
"I owed you enough to be here at the end," he said, kneeling at Jasper's side. "Whatever our animosity... we were friends once."
"I remember," Jasper replied. "Another time, a better one, before everything happened."
"I remember too," Robb said in a voice as light as the breeze.
Jasper looked at her. "Arya... Robb and I have things to discuss alone."
"I understand," she said, stepping back. She wanted to be there, but the two of them did have their issues to sort out.
They spoke for at least an hour before Robb emerged from the room. "How was it?" She asked at once.
He looked at her for a few moments. "We are both tired of the frost between us," he said softly. "We don't agree with each other, I do not condone what he did, and he doesn't believe that it was wrong. But these are his last moments, our last with each other, and we do not wish to spend them feuding with each other. You deserve more than that, as do our children."
She sighed in relief. "Good," she said. "I'm glad. The past is behind you."
"Where it will stay," Robb nodded. "Where it should be."
The final arrival came two days after Robb.
She was in the courtyard, talking with faceless lords who were inquiring after her son when she heard the horsehooves clatter into the keep.
"Mother!" She spun. Arlan had come, dressed in silver and gold, a cloak fastened at his throat with a wolf brooch. He dismounted with his escort and Lord Devan who'd accompanied him. "Is it true?" He asked, fearful.
She nodded.
Arlan swept her into his arms, crushing her in a tight hug. "I-I came as soon as I heard. Is there still time, is father-"
"He lives still," she assured him. "He's been waiting for you."
He released her and stepped back running his hands through his hair. "I... I feared, we both did."
"His Grace yet lives?" Devan asked. Jasper's former squire stood tall in his cloak and tunic. "I was at Pentos when we heard the news. So I came with. I owe him much and I hoped to see him once more, to thank him for everything."
"I'll take you to him now," Arya said, anything to escape the insipid nobles who couldn't wait for Jasper to finally die, for whom every day he still lived was an insult.
Jasper spoke with Devan first, saying that he would speak with his family the next day. But before that there was something of import he had to do, and summoned his family, Shireen, Ormund, Robb and Edric to his chambers.
The Grand Maester was sat beside his bed with paper and ink ready. "What's happening, father?" Durran asked.
"His Grace has summoned you here to bear witness to his will," the Grand Maester said.
Jasper was propped up on several pillows so he was sitting up and looking at them all. Somehow he was still able to look strong and powerful. His left eye was only burning with slight embers now, darkening as he reached the end of his life. "I have," he confirmed. "This must be done, and then I must rest once more." He looked at the Grand Maester and nodded.
"Upon my death, my realms shall be split. Durran shall inherit the crown of Westeros and the royal demesnes here, along with all duties and responsibilities that go with it. Arlan shall receive Andalos and the duties and responsibilities there. Along with Andalos, the Sword Blackfyre is to be given to him as the ancestral blade of the royal family of Andalos. He may maintain or reforge and rename it as he wishes. Any debts incurred by the Throne shall remain in Westeros, as shall any debts owed directly to it, debts owed to me but paid by or to Pentos shall revert to Andalos. For Robert, I leave fifty thousand gold dragons and custody of the lady Bellmore to raise as his own, to arrange her education and marriage. To my wife, I leave to her the castles of Rubyhold and Castellon until the day of her death, that she may have some income of her own, after which they shall return to the Crown of Westeros. I leave my personal items to be distributed amongst my children, as overseen by the executors of this will. To my daughter Catelyn I leave ten thousand gold dragons to do with as she will, and be her property, no others having claim to it until the day she marries, and this money is not to be included in any dowry arrangements for her. It is my wish than any lands given as dowries for her hand be granted in jointure, should her husband predecease her then these lands and their incomes will remain hers until she dies, when they follow the male primogeniture succession laws of the rest of Westeros. However, that is merely a wish, not a commandment. I leave the same sum to my illegitimate daughter Cassanna Flowers, and hope that she servees her brother as well as she has me. For my grandson Stannis, I leave my first sword, kept in the armoury, that he may learn how to fight with it. To my second Grandson Ormund, I leave my childhood signet ring, that he might have something to remember me by. To my good daughter, I leave the silver goblets with which her father, Aegon the Last Targaryen and I drank to peace at the end of the war, in the hope that the last peace between Baratheon and Targaryen shall remain, and no more blood shall flow because of it. I also leave, to each family in the city of King's Landing, one silver stag, as thanks for their prayers and as my final gift to them as king."
He paused and looked up at her, Robb and Edric. "In order to see the commandments of my will carried forward, I name Lord Paramount Edric Dayne, Lord Paramount Robb Stark, Warden of the North, Lord Paramount Ormund Baratheon, Warden of the South, Lady Paramount Shireen Baratheon of the Reach, and my own lady wife, Arya Stark as the executors. In them I trust the responsibility of seeing my will carried forward in peace or strife. I ask now that they, and my sons, now affix their seals to my will, as witnesses to my final commandments."
He beckoned weakly and the Grand Maester took them each over to a table. On it were waxes of various colours, ready to be poured into buttons and stamped with the seals of the executors. One by one, they stamped their seals and attached them to pieces of leather, ready to be sewn onto the final document. They watched as the Grand Maester sewed them onto the will with thin silver thread. "It is done, Your Grace," the Grand Maester said when he was done sewing on Robert's stag and sword seal. "Your will is prepared."
Her husband nodded weakly, his eyes struggling to remain open. "I entrust it to my wife, who shall be the first of the executors, to hold onto it until my death. She will watch over it."
"I shall, Jasper, I promise," she whispered, refusing to let her voice crack in such company. The Grand Maester rolled the large parchment up and tied it with a thick leather cord.
Jasper weakly pressed his own seal into golden wax to keep it sealed until it needed to be broken. She took hold of the will, holding it as gently as a newborn. "Now leave me," Jasper said wearily, his voice tailing off. "I am tired, I must... must rest."
"Father," Arlan's voice was shaking like a stick house in a storm. "You said you had things to say... say to us."
"I do," Jasper said as the Grand Maester took his pillows out from behind his head, allowing him to lay back. "But tomorrow, for now... must rest."
"Father."
"Fear not, my son," he said softly. "I will not die before I have spoken to you. I refuse to die until I have said my final words. Tomorrow."
"I must ask you to leave now," the Grand Maester said. "His Grace must rest."
"Come," she said to Arlan, taking him softly by the shoulder. "Your father will be here tomorrow, he has promised.
They left the king to his sleep, would it be his final sleep before he died. Would he even wake? Despite what she'd said, she wasn't sure. No, he couldn't die, they still had things to talk about. One last conversation, Jasper may have done dark things, but surely the gods, any gods, all gods could grant him that. Just one more talk... just one.
