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 Forty

As the room settled into an uncomfortable buzz of conversation, the Dothraki and Unsullied leaders watched everyone with confusion. Daario and Missandei spoke to both men for a short time while Jaime watched warily, ready to pull Kyren away if he sensed an imminent attack. However, both leaders nodded after the conversation and departed the throne room together, along with their men.

Even as Jon turned to speak with Daenerys's two ex-advisors, Kyren and Jaime had started across the space between them and arrived in time to hear the end of his question. "-did you say to them?"

Missandei replied, voice level as ever, "Daario made the point that there is a minimal Unsullied force protecting the Bay of Dragons, which threatens to fall into ruin. The Unsullied chose to return there to help their brothers keep the peace."

"And the Dothraki?" Kyren asked curiously.

Daario grinned widely. "Missandei told them that Daenerys brought most of the strong warriors here. By returning to the Bay of Dragons - where their women and children are, incidentally - they could take over the Great Grass Sea with very little effort and become the main khalasar in Essos."

"Neatly done," Jon commented.

Tyrion sidled up to the group, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to look winsome. "Does this mean that you agree to take on the role of King?"

Jon gestured to his face, where Jaime could see that he most definitely was missing an eye. "I can no longer see well enough to fight."

"Good," Kyren said without pause. "We've had a warrior king and it did not benefit the land. We need a king who uses diplomacy and honor to avoid war, not seek it out."

"I… I could try," Jon conceded. "But only if my foresight survived better than my eyesight."

Tyrion made a noise halfway between a chuckle and a gag. "I am still haunted by the sight of pieces of your eye dripping down your face, and you want to jest about the situation?"

Jon shrugged. "I was once told that I must wear my flaws as armor so they can never be used against me."

"Sounds like a true fool," Tyrion returned, avoiding Jon's remaining eye.

"Smartest man I ever knew," Jon replied seriously. "And I owe him my life."

Tyrion laughed sardonically. "You owe me nothing. None of this would have happened if I had not created the plan for Daenerys to take over King's Landing. I even convinced her to send for you so we could win the North to our cause. You should rightly kill me."

"Oh, I plan to do worse than that," Jon said cheerily. "If I am made king, I am naming you as my Hand."

"Why 'if'?" Ser Davos asked. "The throne is yours."

"I will not rule without the consent of the people. I must meet with the heads of the Great Houses."

As they made plans to gather all the necessary people, estimating how long it would take for them to arrive and deciding where to meet, Jaime hugged Kyren against himself and she snuggled closer to his side. They watched the snow fall on King's Landing and, for once, Jaime was at peace.

Kyren had never been more tense in her life. Every muscle was locked into a position that was already beginning to ache, but she could do nothing. There was no running from this, nor any way for her to fight, but her body insisted that there must be a physical threat. This meeting could end in Jon being put to death and she could not convince herself that such a possibility was small.

She had been allowed to attend the meeting of the Great Houses with the understanding that she was there acting as Jaime's personal guard. Kyren stood behind Jaime's chair, dressed in simple, lined leather armor that would act as protection even as it kept her warm.

Kyren was breathing hard with nerves, though she tried to stifle the sound. Casually, Jaime dropped his left hand beside his chair and allowed it to drift backward until it rested lightly on her calf muscle. She soothed a bit under the touch, even more so when he squeezed her leg slightly, the pressure helping to ground her. Jaime's shoulders were relaxed, and what little she could see of his profile seemed unconcerned. Though he styled himself as a warrior first, he had been raised to value diplomacy and it was apparent in his comfort in this and similar situations.

Kyren released the breath she had been holding, allowing her eyes to travel the gathered House representatives. It was a mark of the war's impact that several of the people were not known to her, though the gathering was small. So many Great Houses had been decimated over the past decade that these were all who remained. Samwell Tarly caught her eye and gave a bolstering smile, which she did her best to return. Edmure Tully sat beside Sam, Robin Arryn and his bannerman Yohn Royce on the far side. The Starks took up the entirety of the next platform, as Arya, Bran, and Sansa were flanked by Ser Brienne and the Hound. Gendry was seated on the last platform as the only surviving Baratheon, joined by Yara Greyjoy and a representative from Dorne along with Jaime and Kyren.

Outside the platforms, others with a vested interest in Westeros stood. Ser Davos was one, as were Daario and Missandei. The Dothraki and Unsullied were absent, having left directly from the throne room, electing to return to the Bay of Dragons without delay.

Jon stepped out into the middle space between the platforms, his bearing - and new eye-patch - commanding immediate attention. "My name is Jon Snow. I was once the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, but you may also know me as the King in the North."

"As well as the Prince who was Promised and the Savior of King's Landing," Sansa added loudly from the Stark platform.

Kyren would not have believed it possible for Jon to be sheepish, but she would have sworn to the Seven that his cheeks grew pink. "Yes, that," he agreed vaguely. "I have recently discovered that I am the trueborn son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen. Samwell Tarly has discovered proof of that if there is doubt. The people want me to be their king, a title I have earned by right of combat against the conqueror of King's Landing, but I have yet to receive your approval. I wish for the Heads of the Great Houses to approve my coronation. What say you?"

"I say you should be put to death for your actions," Yara Greyjoy said baldly. "My queen, the rightful victor of the Battle of King's Landing, fought to protect the throne from you. Her champion would have killed you in a fair fight."

"Ignoring, of course, that the fight was unfair in your queen's favor," Jaime lazily contributed.

Yara pressed on, undaunted. "Jon Snow placed himself against Daenerys Targaryen after her victory, as did several others." She paused to give a pointed glare in the direction of Daario and Missandei. "It appears that your convictions were not strong enough to fight the battle without her. Someone who remained loyal to her side should take the Iron Throne."

"That is a lie," Sam told her, all soft-spokenness having disappeared from his voice. "Ask any of the remaining people who were in King's Landing that day and they'll tell you that Jon actively tried to stop the Mad Queen from burning the city. He also sent a group of his own people out to evacuate as many from King's Landing as possible. There are too many witnesses to count."

"And as for people who remained loyal to Daenerys," Daario added, stepping onto the central dais with the grace of a natural showman, "I doubt there are any."

"I remained loyal to my oaths," Yara argued, bristling.

"Assuming that is a positive thing, I must disagree," Daario said mockingly. "You received the same raven I did, the one ordering us to bring our forces to King's Landing and bolster Daenerys's forces. The Iron Isles are much closer than the Bay of Dragons and yet, we arrived before you did. You did not obey your queen, not until you knew the fighting was over. At best, you're a coward; at worst, a traitor."

Yara's mouth snapped closed as she sat back in her chair, glaring at anyone who caught her eye.

"All in favor of Jon Snow as king of the Seven Kingdoms?" Sansa asked, drawing to her feet.

Every hand raised and the cheers were deafening.

It was late the next evening when they all gathered in a tent outside of King's Landing. There was much to do before Jon's coronation, but no one was certain whether any buildings inside the city were safe yet.

In the interim, the largest tent Jaime had ever seen had been set up. The Starks and their guards were helping Jon sort out details, with assistance from Tyrion, Sam, Davos, Daario, Missandei, Tormund, Jaime, and Kyren.

While Sansa arranged the coronation details and Tyrion was speaking to gathered builders about testing the stability of various King's Landing buildings, Sam was busy filling out a lengthy scroll about the particulars of Jon's impending rule - apparently a tradition whenever a new House took the Iron Throne.

"And if you die without an heir? You can stipulate your replacement now, so we can avoid another War of the Five Kings."

Jon shook his head, ignoring Sam's attempt at levity. "I will not marry or produce heirs."

Sam looked shocked. "But Jon… marriage for a king is almost a necessity. It creates a line of succession, unites kingdoms, solidifies relationships with other peoples…"

"I have loved more deeply than I ever will again," he said, oddly fervent about the subject. "She was a woman kissed by fire. I will not have another. When the time comes for me to leave the throne, I will choose a successor. They will not be chosen based on the length of their bloodlines or the depths of their family coffers. Instead, they will show a solemn dedication to the well-being of Westeros and the safety of her people."

"And are women eligible for this position?" Kyren asked.

Jon bowed his head. "I should hope so. We need another queen to help repair the damage wrought by the last two."

"And how do you intend to make the decision fairly?" Davos asked. "Male children are more likely to be trained in weaponry and strategy than females, but - given the chance - females show no less aptitude for leadership."

"That is a concern," Jon admitted, a furrow appearing between his fiercely drawn brows. "Winterfell. Sansa, Winterfell!"

"Winterfell?" Sansa asked, obviously having not been paying attention to the conversation. Davos explained the question to her and her face abruptly cleared. "Winterfell!"

"Would someone who does not benefit from telepathy care to enlighten the rest of us?" Tyrion asked with false patience.

"Winterfell will open its gates for females who possess the potential for leadership," Sansa offered, adding modestly, "I have a fair grasp of strategy."

"I should hope so," Jon agreed. "Trained first by Cersei, then by Baelish. You will be made Warden of the North, of course. And when you take on a Master at Arms, ensure he has the energy to train females in the basics of weapons-handling."

Sansa gave an oddly mischievous smile. "As it happens, I have already taken on a new Master at Arms. Ser Sandor, do you find yourself prepared for the task?"

The Hound's unscarred cheek reddened. "Is it too late to say fuck no?"

"Entirely," Sansa told him before turning back to Jon. "He will help to train them."

"All that remains is to choose your Small Council, King Jon," Sam teased.

Jon mock-glared at his friend. "Well, I had an idea for Grand Maester, but he keeps calling me 'King Jon'."

Sam's breath caught in his throat. "You can't make me Grand Maester. I'm not even a Maester yet."

"You can't be far off, can you?" Jon asked rhetorically. "Besides, have you not heard? They made me king, which means, if I say you're the Grand Maester, you are."

The rest of the room had quieted to hear the announcement and Jaime could hear Sam sniffing a bit as he wrote his own name in the spot for the Grand Maester. "And for the other positions?"

"Tyrion has already agreed to be my Hand. I would ask Ser Davos to be my Master of Ships." Davos accepted with a wide grin. "Bran for my Master of Whispers." Bran looked as pleased as Jaime had seen him. "I think we will make Bronn earn his castle. We'll place him as the Master of Coin."

"He does have connections with the Iron Bank of Braavos," Tyrion mused.

"Those are the easy recommendations. The others require more careful asking," Jon said cryptically.

"Ser Brienne, I know you have pledged yourself to my sister, but as she has taken such an… ah- imposing Master at Arms, would you consider your oaths fulfilled? I would be honored if you would accept the position of Lord Commander of my Kingsguard. It would make a fitting beginning to your entry in the Book of Knights."

Brienne's tearful smile was a joy to behold, and - after some silent urging from Sansa - she accepted.

"Do you think Podrick Payne is ready for a position of authority?" Jon asked her.

"He is as true and steadfast a man as I ever fought alongside," Brienne declared.

"Very well. I would offer him the position of Commander of the City Watch. He would report directly to you, though he would also be expected at Small Council meetings. Missandei," he continued, moving to stand before her. "I know you served Daenerys well and I will bear no grudge despite your answer, but I would offer you the position of Master of Laws."

"I am unfamiliar with many Westerosi laws," Missandei admitted.

"That's fine!" Sam encouraged from his spot at the desk. "I have all the books you could ever use. You speak several languages; if you read in them as well, you could learn everything there is to know in a matter of weeks."

"Then… I accept," Missandei agreed carefully.

With a solemn nod, Jon turned back to Sam. "Is that everyone?"

Sam consulted his scroll. "You still lack a Master of War."

"Why not Clegane?" Tyrion asked.

The Hound's expression grew, if possible, darker. "No."

"It does seem perfect for you, Clegane," Jon agreed.

"Don't want it," was the Hound's only answer.

Tyrion sighed. "And why not?"

"'Fuck the king'?" Bran supplied with a slight smile, but the Hound did not return the expression.

"Not this king," he said gravely. "I- I've had enough of war. My life has been war. I've had my fill."

"I understand," Jon accepted gracefully. "The Seven Kingdoms can never repay the debt of your service, a debt which can only grow with dedicated efforts in the employ of my sister."

"Well, maybe no one wants to hear it, but we do have one of the finest military minds in Westeros sitting among us," Ser Davos pointed out. "Jaime Lannister."

The flash of cold fear Jaime felt in his chest was mirrored in Kyren's, if he were to judge by the sudden tightening of her hand in his. He squeezed it reassuringly as he directed his response between Jon and Tyrion. "I am honored by the offer, but I cannot stay in King's Landing. This place is too haunted."

"The position must be filled by someone," Tyrion said, clearly growing exasperated.

"Perhaps the people have had enough of war at the moment," Kyren suggested.

"Or I could do it," Daario offered. "I've military experience in both Westeros and Essos, I helped the Mad Queen take over several cities, and I've kept the peace in the Bay of Dragons with only a fraction of her forces and no dragons. Perhaps I am qualified?"

Everyone looked to Jon, who smiled. "The perfect appointment, I think. Welcome, Daario Naharis."

Tormund yawned in the most dramatic fashion anyone had ever witnessed and Jon smiled. "One final order of business before everyone retires. Kyren Asheworth, rise."

Kyren stared around the room, looking longest at Jaime, but he seemed just as confused as she. Still, she rose and moved to stand in front of Jon. He drew Longclaw. "I may not yet be king, but I think it high time you officially became a knight. Will you allow me to knight you?"

She nodded and knelt in front of the man she had considered a brother for most of her life. He held the Valyrian steel blade - freshly baptized in dragon's fire - over her right shoulder. "In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave." The blade was switched to just above her left shoulder. "In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just." Finally, the blade moved to her right shoulder once more. "In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent." He sheathed Longclaw with a wide grin and stepped back. "Arise, Kyren Asheworth, a knight of the Seven Kingdoms."

Everything that happened after that point was a blur to Kyren's vision as she struggled to hold back tears. After the waves of congratulations, she found herself held securely in Jaime's arms. "Are you proud of me?" she asked, regretting the question as soon as it left her lips.

Jaime frowned. "Proud? I have never been anything less than proud of you. My only regret about this is that I could not have been the one to knight you." She smiled at him, oddly touched by the thought, but Jaime looked down at her with solemn emerald eyes. "Kyren, I must tell you: I love you. I know I am far from perfect, but I grow closer every day with you to guide me. Maybe some day I will be good enough to deserve you, but until then, may your sense of charity allow this poor fool to remain close to you?"

Kyren laughed softly, a tear finally slipping free. "I believe I could be prevailed upon to help you on your path to perfection. I love you. I have not known it for long, but I believe I have felt it far longer."

Looking utterly startled, Jaime pulled her in for a kiss. "You love me," he murmured with every new motion of their lips. "You love me."

The next day found Arya and Kyren sitting in the shade of the tent, watching everyone else walk around preparing for Jon's coronation. "I've been thinking about you and Gendry," Kyren started without preamble, knowing full well that Arya was likely to walk away if she knew a personal conversation was imminent.

"What about him?" Arya asked unhappily.

"You are Jon's sister, for all intents and purposes, and his cousin if one wants to be particular. Gendry may be a Lord now, but you are a Princess."

"I appreciate the lesson in family titles and positions of power, Septa, but what is your meaning?"

"If you marry Gendry, you'll be the more powerful one in your marriage. Even if he tried to force you to be a lady - which I find unlikely, incidentally - you could deny him," Kyren told her with relish.

"He has already made that argument to me," Arya replied, shifting uncomfortably and avoiding Kyren's eyes.

"I had no idea he was still here," Kyren mused.

"He stayed after the House meeting. He knew that I was here and would not stay away, and he's helping to repair King's Landing besides." Arya sighed. "I accepted his offer of marriage this morning."

Arya was not the type to appreciate girlish displays of appreciation, so Kyren limited herself to a wide smile. "I offer you my sincerest congratulations. Will I be issued an invitation to the wedding?"

"Do you intend to bring Jaime Lannister?" Arya shot back.

Kyren felt herself blush, though she attempted to hide it. "Perhaps. He has made no offer of marriage yet, but I feel it cannot be far off."

"Does he object to never having more children?" The question was blunt, but Arya's voice was the closest to kind that Kyren had ever heard it.

"No, he says his efforts with children were thoroughly doomed. He only wants me." The blush increased, but thankfully, Arya switched topics.

"Are you a betting sort?"

Kyren shrugged. "Given the right bet, I believe I could be. Why do you ask?"

"Who do you wager will marry first: Daario and Missandei or Sansa and Sandor?"

Shocked by the question, Kyren nearly missed the nod of Arya's head. She followed the silent direction and found Sansa walking with the Hound, her delicate hand tucked securely in his crooked elbow. She chatted happily to him and he watched her with amusement and tenderness on his scarred face. Nearby, Missandei sat in the grass, reading a book about the laws of Westeros - or attempting to do so. Daario strode by every few moments, speaking to her each time as he inquired if she was too warm or needed a blanket to sit on.

Kyren hummed, thinking over the options carefully. "I believe it will be Sansa and the Hound first."

Arya grinned. "Good, I want to bet on Daario and Missandei. Five Dragons on it?"

"Consider the deal struck," Kyren replied.

"Where will you and Jaime go from here?" Arya asked, sitting back on her elbows to sit further back in the shade.

"Well, Jon has us traveling around the Seven Kingdoms fairly regularly. We'll likely journey to Casterly Rock first. It has been rebuilt since Daenerys's attack, but Jaime wants to check. Then we'll ride to Winterfell and make contact with Tormund before his first report to the king. We may accompany him back here."

Arya laughed. "Tormund, an ambassador between the Wildings and Westeros! You will have to send a raven when you begin the journey to King's Landing. I would not miss his first formal court appearance for the world."

Kyren grimaced, then grinned. "I cannot believe that Jon appointed him to the position any more than I believe Tormund accepted it."

"Men," Arya sighed. "When they make a friend, they cannot stand for the slightest bit of distance."

"I can sympathize," Kyren argued. "I will miss all of you more than I can stand."

"We will have to visit often, then," Jaime said, appearing beside Kyren and helped her to her feet. Kyren waved goodbye to Arya, who shot her a knowing look.

Jaime offered his arm and Kyren accepted it. They had stepped only feet into the forest when he stopped to stare down at her with intensity in his gaze. "Kyren, I love you and cannot wait another moment until we begin our lives together. I would take you as my wife... That is, if you will have me?"

"Jaime, I could not imagine life without you. I will gladly be your wife." Kyren was enveloped in his embrace a moment later and let out a contented sigh.

There was no happier place in the world.

Author's Note - Well, folks, this is it! Forty-one chapters, two-hundred thousand words, and eight seasons of material covered. It has been a joy writing for you and I hope you've enjoyed this odd little story. This last chapter got a little more Jane Austen-y than I intended, but I love happy endings and I'm terrible at writing them. I tried!

Thank you to my guest and naia1 for reviewing the last chapter. Special thanks to everyone who has followed, favorited, or reviewed this story, and especially those who have been with me since the beginning.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and have the absolute best day!