The King of Winters

Chapter-132

Ashara

“We will make King’s Landing within the hour, my lady,”

Ashara turned away from the rail and looked at Lord Baelish. He was standing there on the stern, looking at her with a mocking smile. “Are you sure that your man was right?” For some reason the prospect of facing her son again felt daunting.

The Master of Coin favored her with a half bow. Or rather she should address him as the old master of coin now who served the previous King. Rhaegar Targaryen was dead, they told her when Baelish had woken her up from her sleep in the cottage he had given her. “You wound me, sweet lady. And you worry me when you look at me with distrust in those lovely purple eyes. Have I given you any reason to doubt me so far?”

Many and more, Ashara thought. But she kept it to herself.

When she stayed silent, Baelish smiled. “None as you would clearly know.” His words were laced with poison, however with the heavy hint of honey coated over it. She could see that in the way he liked to smile at her, as if he was always holding a secret from her and almost as if he was mocking her. He’d been playing her ever since he had helped her break out of Rhaegar's dungeons and she could see that clearly. But she still had to admit that he helped her, in ways no one else had. Or rather no one else could help her. It took a different level of courage to stand up against Rhaegar Targaryen. And Petyr Baelish, despite his seemingly powerless nature was braver than she had initially thought.

She had come to know from where he had gotten the strength and the courage. Ashara had not been oblivious to miss the gold that flowed through the hands of Baelish and all the way down to his servants who attended her in his cottage where she spent her days of freedom. There was too much gold to be spared on the likes of maids and cooks and it flowed too consistently that Ashara knew that it wasn't coming from anywhere else. The cottage which housed her was too open and exposed for a hidden treasure. But the large cove on the other side of the isle where Giselle seemingly kept her sheep in a hovel would have been safe and large enough to hide mounds of gold and it's mines. Ashara had spied it when she was taken on a tour around the isle on her fifth day in the cottage. Ser Osney had been so eager to escort her that it was easy for her to get him open the door and let her out into the open air, where Ser Lothor had been more disinterested with Lord Baelish away. But he had accompanied them anyway more concerned about her safety than about showing off his lands.

Ashara had no doubts that Petyr's gold extended well into King's Landing as well for it is from there he had his reports carried across the sea. When he returned he brought her the news of the fall of King's Landing.

The king is dead, he told her hugging her tightly and pressing a moist kiss on her cheeks, never saying that if he was referring to her son or to his sovereign.

“Your son cut his heart out with his icy blade of vengeance,” he declared afterwards taking her hand softly in his. “His direwolf prowls the halls of the Red Keep now and the towers of the castle fly the icy banners of House Stark.”

Ashara had sat silent through it all, letting the words wash over her, her hand forgotten and nestled amidst his own. Andrew. My child. My son. My only child. Tears ran down her cheeks as she thought about him. Ashara tried to bring the his sweet face to mind, but his features kept turning into Ned's. It's been so long since she had seen him and the last time she saw him he was just a baby looking lost and forlorn, not understanding what was happening. He ought to have thought that she had deserted him as well, like everyone else. She would never forget the way her baby had clutched at her desperately even as she was putting him on the boat, afraid. He never cried though even as she sent him away, her sweet stubborn boy.