The Worth Of Ash
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Game of Thrones or any related titles, characters, plots, settings, etc. These rights are the sole property of George R. R. Martin, HBO, and their various publishers and distributors. I own only the original elements of this story, the writing and publishing of which earn me no money.
Chapter Twenty-One
The sight of the Crossroads Inn was both a relief and a burden for Kyren. Like many travelers, the prospect of a good meal, a warm fire, and a soft bed was a welcome one, yet Kyren dreaded the news she might find upon entering the inn. Additionally, the building served as a concrete reminder of her failure - thus far, at least - to locate Arya.
Tracking the girl without drawing attention had proven a chore nearly too great to be performed. Queen Cersei, desperate for leverage to regain possession of her brother, had sent men searching for Arya Stark since her disappearance the day of her father's imprisonment. Dodging the guards, the groups of travelers who could very well be loyal to the Lannisters, and those who may recognize Kyren herself as being affiliated with the Stark family was exhausting, and she found herself arriving at the inn a day later than she had intended. Thus, there was little doubt that a message of some kind awaited her.
After some time spent currying Sotam and settling him in the stables with the help of several overly-helpful stable boys, Kyren could delay no longer and entered the main room of the inn. The man she vaguely recognized as the owner caught sight of her and straightened.
"Are you Kyren Asheworth, little lady?"
"I am indeed. Am I to assume that I have received a message?"
"You most certainly have, as have I. The King's Hand himself told me that I am to put you up for the night and he sent additional coin to pay for a warm meal at the time of your choosing." He leaned closer and winked. "Quite a nice thing, to have friends in high places, eh?"
Kyren gave a small smile, one which almost certainly came off as pained, before giving a stiff nod. "As you say. If you would be so kind as to give me his message and point me in the direction of my room?"
With as few pleasantries as she could manage after such a stretch on the road, Kyren was safely tucked away in her room. She settled gingerly on the bed's straw mattress before unrolling the thin scroll Tyrion had sent. The missive was short and vague, as was necessary with such an easily-intercepted form of communication, but Kyren had no difficulty in deciphering his meaning:
Rumors true. B & R dead, along with most trusted servants. Do not return.
Kyren's stomach dropped sharply as she struggled to keep her composure. Bran and Rickon were dead, and Theon had killed most of the servants loyal to the Starks. This almost certainly included Maester Luwin, her only other reason to travel so far North. Before she could dissolve completely into despair, she caught sight of a miniscule addendum at the bottom of the scroll:
Battle with Stannis imminent. Stay at inn, wait for word.
That settled it. Kyren attempted to keep herself calm and occupied during the night, darning holes that had worn through her clothing and sharpening her daggers and sword. She even ate a small meal and kept it down without struggle, so long as she avoided thinking of the bodies of Bran and Rickon, or the fear Sansa would be experiencing as King's Landing stood through Stannis's attack - each one becoming a spectre she saw each time she closed her eyes.
It was quite a restless night, indeed.
Head dangling from his neck in the defeated posture he took pains to avoid in the waking world, Jaime trudged slowly through the darkness.
With the uncaring attitude of one who has suffered a cataclysmic upheaval, he made no moves to avoid the phoenix or the red-weeping eyes of its perch. Any such attempts in the past had failed, but Jaime had persisted with an undaunted laugh and a spiteful grin.
Not so, now.
This time more than any other, he seemed to reach the bird within only a handful of steps. In a graceless slide, he collapsed to the ground and glanced up at the phoenix, missing the pull of scabs and the dull ache of bruising on his face and shoulders. When Robb Stark's men had recovered him after his escape attempt, they had beaten him soundly. Jaime could not cast blame too readily, however. He had killed a Karstark, one of their own.
And a Lannister, a piercing voice in his head reminded. You killed one of your own, as well.
Ah, and that was the tender point from which Jaime's self-hatred welled. He had known the captive Lannister - not well, perhaps, but they had spoken, connected, and they had much in common.
Perhaps I'll be dead by dawn, lynched or beheaded by the Stark army. Then I shall have even more in common with him.
A croak interrupted his morbid thoughts and Jaime glanced upward with a frown. That had sounded more like the call of a raven than the energetic chirping of the phoenix, perhaps even raspier than a raven's throaty utterance. When he finally found the bird with his eyes, Jaime started back with a frown. The phoenix looked ancient, wings drooping at an angle that served only to emphasize the limp wilt of its neck. Even its body looked unhealthy, bloated painfully until it seemed ready to burst.
Even as he drew himself to his feet in abrupt concern, Jaime saw the bird's constant bluish glow take on a yellow hue and was unsurprised to see the phoenix catch fire once more. There was little he could do while the bird burned, but Jaime remained nearby this time, feeling an odd sense of commiseration with the creature. Eventually, the bird's burning carcass collapsed, revealing an ash-coated phoenix chick, joyful as it had been the first time Jaime watched it burn.
With this diversion removed, Jaime's mood turned dark once more. Of course. Only one of the two of us receives a chance at a new life and it is the damned bird. Beyond ready to return to the waking world, even with the mess he had created by killing those men, Jaime walked pointedly away from the phoenix.
Kyren awoke to a dull thudding on the door of her room, not unlike the one in her head. When she had finally slept, the sun had begun to threaten the horizon, and her dreams had been plagued with scenarios of people she loved being tormented and killed, all while Kyren watched, unable to prevent a thing.
When she moved across the room, her balance was tested by unsteady legs and she leaned against a section of wall as she opened the door.
Outside, the innkeeper stood smiling, but as he saw Kyren's disheveled state, he began to shift his weight like a nervous horse. "Sorry to disturb, but you've received another missive. Seemed urgent." He studied her with shrewd eyes until his expression melted into something akin to sympathy. "The gold sent by the Hand will cover another night here if you would like."
With the thin scroll between her fingers - the tips of which had grown numb - Kyren found it nearly impossible to focus on the man's inanity. Instead, she blinked up at him and gave a tense sort of nod. "I will let you know when I have made a decision. Thank you."
When she was left to privacy once more, Kyren unrolled the missive and blinked. Though this slice of vellum was roughly the same size as the first, it featured such a large amount of writing that it would have been rendered illegible if not for the extreme neatness of the letters.
SB attacked late last night. All is well now. S is unharmed and T is injured but recovering. S says that J reconsidering his intentions toward her. She also says not to travel north, that it is too dangerous. KL is dangerous as well. Lie low and keep quiet. W is not safe now.
S.P.P.
'S.P.P.' would be 'Squire Podrick Payne', if Kyren's guess was correct. He had been a touch more vague on the details of the attack on King's Landing than she would have preferred, but it was understandable given the mode of communication. It seemed as though the army of Stannis Baratheon had been turned away. With that outcome resolved, Kyren found herself at a bit of a loss. According to Sansa, Kyren should not travel north, Pod warned her not to travel south, and she could not stay at the Crossroads for terribly much longer without attracting unwelcome attention.
With the innkeeper's offer in mind, Kyren came to a decision: she would remain at the inn for one more night in an attempt to reclaim the rest she had lost the previous night, then leave the following morning to begin the search for Arya in earnest. Even as her eyes ached to fall closed, Kyren pulled a piece of parchment from the saddlebags she had earlier carried to her room and began penning a missive to Robb and Lady Catelyn with the news of the past days. Despite her own misgivings, she skipped over the news of Bran and Rickon's likely fates. It was only a rumor, and the Starks had likely heard about Theon's attack of Winterfell and drawn their own conclusions without aid of Tyrion Lannister.
Kyren cursed, uttering words that would have been sure to burn the ears of a companion should she have had one. Sotam pricked one ear in her direction, but did not bother to glance up from the patch of grass he was meticulously cropping. Left with a hollow feeling of dissatisfaction in her stomach, Kyren once more unrolled the missive she had received from Lady Stark a mere day after sending her own raven - the Stark armies apparently having traveling further into the Westerlands than current rumor had placed them.
Listen to S's advice. KL is far too dangerous a place at the moment. I have other forces in place to rescue both of my daughters. Rather than return to KL or North, perhaps you could search for A in the event that she is not in KL herself. Start from the Inn and work southward. Take care and go well.
L.C.S.
The short message brought fire to Kyren's soul just as it had the first time she had read it and every time since. It seemed that none in the Stark family thought her services effective in any manner. She had truly been nothing more than a raven for them, spending precious weeks of her life carrying missives across Westeros. It was clear that Lady Stark had never truly expected Kyren to bring her daughters home.
Worst of all, Kyren could hear the rich voice of Jaime Lannister, mocking her without end: I suppose that duties as a large raven must've taken precedence over the protection of the Stark girls.
It was as if he had known that was to be her entire contribution to the war effort and to the Stark family as a whole. The waste of her talents, all the abilities she had struggled so long to cultivate in order to facilitate the sort of life to which she aspired.
Kyren gritted her teeth until her jaw began to ache. She would continue the search for Arya until Lady Catelyn's 'other forces' returned both girls, then she would do as she had meant to do from the day she left Winterfell and strike out on her own.
With a speed belying her hesitancy about the action, Kyren crumpled the parchment into a loose ball and tossed it into the fire.
She stared into the cheerful fire for longer than was wise. The land had changed as she moved south these past days, the comforting barrier of thick forest and steep hill fading into a wide windswept plain that offered little protection against those who might wish her harm. However, with her reluctance to sleep in the open and little else to occupy her time, Kyren allowed herself to sink into a light flood of melancholy, watching the flames and contemplating her future.
Soon enough, however, she was ripped from her reverie by the soft noise of steadily-approaching footsteps. Kyren had moved to her feet long before the stranger finally appeared, her sword held firmly in her right hand as her left hovered near her corset.
When the tall grasses at last parted to reveal a man, Kyren had worked out what she was to say. "Halt and state your business, stranger."
His full lips curved into a smile as he lifted both hands away from his own weapons. "A man does not mean to give offense."
The thick accent made Kyren curious, but safety was more important. "And what exactly does a man mean to give?"
"A man sees the fire and the horse. He wonders if he could ask to share a girl's shelter for the night. Safety is a fleeting thing in the open fields."
She eyed him with clear mistrust. "A large man dressed in Lannister armor is afraid for his safety?"
"A man travels alone. One never knows what things lurk in the dark," he said cryptically, brushing a strikingly white forelock behind one ear.
Kyren frowned up at him. Every instinct she possessed was screaming that this man was far more dangerous than he seemed, but his presence would keep her from being accosted by any Lannister forces and hers would prevent him from being attacked by any loyal to the North. He had no reason to suspect she was disloyal to the crown and she was safe. Besides that, he had already seen her camp and could easily circle back after she had fallen asleep. It would be far wiser to keep him nearby so that she could be certain he did not plan to ambush her.
"What is your name?"
"A man has the pleasure to be Jaqen H'ghar," he offered with a slight bow. "And a girl is called-?"
"Alis Waters," Kyren responded after a pause she hoped seemed reluctant rather than thoughtful. Waters was a common enough bastard's name, especially considering their current proximity to King's Landing. "Stay on the far side of the fire, Jaqen H'ghar, and you may sleep here tonight."
"A man is most grateful," he said, dropping a small pack on the hard-packed ground. "He will gladly give up his weapons if it would make a girl more comfortable?"
She furrowed her brow once more. "Why would you trust a perfect stranger? I could kill you and take your belongings."
With an inscrutable smile, the mysterious Jaqen shook his head. "A man reads faces as some men read the heavens. A girl has a trustworthy soul."
After eyeing him for a long moment, Kyren told him, "Keep your weapons. You may be required to defend the camp."
"Very well," he agreed, settling onto the ground. Kyren followed suit shortly afterward. He watched her through the flames of the campfire, the flickering light giving his features an unnecessary touch of something alien. "A man will take the first watch."
"No, I will," Kyren countered. She did not trust him enough to be less than aware in his presence and was far too energized besides.
"But a girl will sleep, yes?" he asked, seeming concerned.
"Why do you take such an interest in when my guard will be down?" Kyren asked sharply.
"A man wishes only to be sure that the arrangement will benefit a girl as well as himself," Jaqen explained simply. "A man will wake in a few hours."
With that, he pulled his pack under his head and settled immediately into sleep. Kyren frowned for a few moments at the idea of sleeping in full armor, but it was not her bones that would suffer the next day.
The hours passed quickly, Kyren's only company being in the shape of the slowly-dying fire, a drowsing Sotam, and the even breaths of Jaqen H'ghar. Thoughts flurried around her head like the sparks snapping from the fire and she allowed them to rule her mind even as her senses remained on guard for other intruders.
She still mourned Lord Eddard Stark. He had been something of a father figure for the time she had lived at Winterfell, though she still treasured the few surviving memories of her own father. Bran and Rickon were likely gone as well, and though she had not known them as she did their older siblings, they had been a comforting constant and she bitterly regretted that the potential of their lives had been snuffed out so abruptly, so violently… so needlessly.
Unbidden, an image of Jaime Lannister rose to the forefront of her mind. Kyren brushed it away several times, but it seemed that remembering his words earlier had reminded herself of his existence and she now found it difficult to leave that awareness behind.
With the clarity of hindsight, Kyren could admit that she had likely been in love with Jaime Lannister - or her idealized image of him, in any case. The golden lion, a member of the Kingsguard, her teacher, a trusted mentor… He had played so many roles in her life, but none so encompassing as the role of a good man that he had assumed in order to win her trust.
The memory of their last encounter haunted her, the look of desperate isolation on his face only slightly less piercing in her mind than it had been in person. Had she been wrong to deny him a last kiss? Jaime was a traitor, an incestuous man who had attempted to kill a small child to protect his own reputation, but surely there could be a grain of truth to the mask he wore around Kyren? Surely he was not so talented an actor that he could have lied during their friendly banter, much less during the moments between them that grew heated?
No, despite his assertions to the contrary, Kyren did not regret denying him a final embrace, but she feared she was growing to regret that she had denied it for herself. That regret would be easier to push aside if she could not remember with aching clarity the feel of his lips on her own, the glitter in his emerald gaze when she said something clever, the weight of him between her thighs…
Across the dimming fire, Jaquen H'ghar rose to a sitting position and Kyren prided herself on managing not to startle. He glanced at her and she nodded, settling into sleep without further thought or fear.
When her eyes opened once more, the sky was beginning to lighten. After a moment to marvel that she had not been gutted as she slept, Kyren stood and took stock of her surroundings. It was just before daybreak and the plains had lightened enough to be seen without detail. They did seem a sort of lake, ripples of wind bending the tall stalks of grass in distinct patterns. As she moved around the still-smoldering fire, Kyren gave Sotam a gentle pat and he nuzzled at her hand.
Even as she noticed that Jaqen seemed nowhere to be found, she heard his footsteps approaching and he moved through the quiet grasses a moment later. He smiled in greeting, offering his cupped hands toward her. "Would a girl join a man in breaking his fast?"
Kyren glanced from Jaqen's face to the recently-scrubbed roots in his hands before walking to Sotam's saddlebags. "Thank you, but I have my own provisions. I will leave those for you."
He did not acknowledge her words, but sat somewhat closer than she had asked him to stay during the previous night, perhaps a quarter of the space around the fire between them instead of the entire thing. He said nothing still, seemingly preoccupied with eating his roots. Kyren opted for a small piece of hardened biscuit instead.
"You are from Braavos, are you not?" she asked eventually.
He paused in eating to watch her. "A man is. Why does a girl wish to know?"
"Curious. I've known a few Braavosi," she offered, thinking of Syrio Forel.
"Where does a girl plan to travel from here?" Jaqen asked.
Kyren shrugged. "I cannot claim to have thought overly much about it. Likely I shall continue south. And yourself?"
"A man travels back to Braavos."
"Do you intend to desert the Lannister army?"
Jaqen dusted his hands and crossed his legs to peer at her sharply. "A man is not part of the Lannister army."
"Then why does a man wear Lannister armor?"
"Perhaps he has stolen it."
"Have you?"
He fell silent for such a time that she assumed he did not plan to answer. When he at last spoke, it was more than she had heard him say the entirety of their association. "A man was traveling and found a Lannister guard harassing a young girl, one disguised as a boy. He killed the guard, released the secret girl, and took the armor."
"Clever, though I am uncertain why you chose to reveal such a thing to a stranger. How are you so certain that I am not loyal to the Lannisters or King Joffrey who sits on the Iron Throne?"
"A man knows such things," he said by way of explanation. "A girl is from the North, same as the secret girl. She traveled south as well, said there were too many dangers to fight her way north."
Kyren fought to keep her thoughts from her face, but her mind was whirring. A girl disguised as a boy who was from the North and wished to return there, but could not due to a variety of dangers? This could be the clue to Arya's whereabouts that she had been searching for!
Voice laced with carefully-cultivated confusion, Kyren asked, "Why would she travel south to return to the North? That makes little sense."
"A man believes she intended to board a ship to Braavos, then find a way back across to the North of Westeros."
As far as plans went, it was far from the worst Kyren had heard. If she remembered Maester Luwin's geography lessons, Braavos was roughly a middling distance between King's Landing and Winterfell. She could cross the Narrow Sea directly, land in a quiet town, and travel north with none the wiser. It would be a long voyage to Braavos by ship, but who would think to search for Arya Stark in Essos?
"I find myself in need of work. Is there employment to be found in Braavos?"
His light eyes glinted amusedly at her, but he only pursed his full lips in thought. "Employment may be found for a girl, especially with a man to vouch for her nature."
As unintelligent as it was to agree to travel such a distance with a man she did not know, Kyren could not fight that it would be helpful to have a local nearby. The voyage would give her the time needed to discover if he was trustworthy enough to enlist his help in finding Arya.
"A man knows that a girl can protect herself, but having a male in the party, no one will attempt to attack."
"Very well," Kyren agreed at length. "We will travel together. Where is the best place to board a ship for Braavos?"
"The closest ports are in King's Landing."
She nodded, having feared such an answer. "To King's Landing, then."
Author's Note - Before anyone sends unpleasant messages, I know that Jaqen's story is off. You know that Jaqen's story is off. Jaqen knows that Jaqen's story is off. The only one who doesn't know is Kyren, and that is the point here. He's a mysterious guy with his own agenda. Also, apologies: this chapter contains more page breaks and time shifts than I generally prefer for a single chapter, but I needed to move the plot along so I could get to the exciting stuff. And on the more positive side, I do have a chapter written and ready to post and another one that only needs another page or two of writing before it's complete, so we should get a few weeks of updates coming up!
Shoutout to purple-pygmy-puff16, Desert, and klo for their reviews!
I usually prefer to respond to reviews in PM, but Desert, it won't let me PM the answer to your question! Sotam's hooves were wrapped to muffle the sound of his horseshoes on the cobblestone streets. I am not sure if there's any documentation in the GoT universe about horses being shod, but I'm assuming this is a semi-medieval time period and horseshoes have been present on horses in our world since roughly 100 B.C., so I'm feeling fairly confident that they would have shoes. Thanks for the question!
As always, thank you for reading and please leave a review. I hope you have a wonderful day and I'll see you next week!