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CHAPTER NINETEEN. ━━━━━━━━━ Like summer, The young never last.
DAWN WINTERS,HELLOPOETRY ━━━━━━━━━
THE STARS ARE FADING WHEN Ashara Dayne steps onto the ledge of the Palestone Sword Tower. The night gives away to soft oranges and gold weaving into pinks and lilacs to banish the darkness. The last stars disappear from the horizon and the waves crash far below.
Ashara smiles when her arms reach out, her fingers grazing the rising sun, not knowing where she ends and the sky begins. She never looks away as the wind sings in her ears like a hymn, like a promise.
She thinks of all the people she leaves behind and those already waiting for her; but there is no longing there. The last thought before all thoughts end: we will see each other soon.
EDDARD STARK ARRIVES AT DAWN. He at least shows them the courtesy of looking shamed. Astoria studies him for a moment, but only a moment because Oberyn is moving beside her and she cannot help but worry about him. Prince Doran is angry, and grieving, but Oberyn's sorrow has become something else.
He would have another war.
She sees that Oberyn's gaze is fixed on the largest of the chests that Lord Stark has brought. It pains Astoria to think of the contents.
"Show me my sister," Oberyn demands.
The silent sisters move swiftly. Elia is covered with a banner, the banner of House Martell.
"You cannot cover what was done to her. We know." It is Doran's voice, calm and composed, but his eyes are steel. Astoria can see the strain in his face. "My sister's return is a beginning."
Oberyn in seething and Astoria wants to tell him that they all feel the same, that seeing their remains has stirred their anger too. But Oberyn stays quiet and so does she. Doran is their ruler and he must think of his people. This is meant as an offering of peace.
"I have done as you asked, Prince Doran," Eddard Stark says solemly. "It is our hope that there might be peace. There has been too much loss already."
Doran nods, slowly, allowing the older man to think that he is in agreement. He makes certain that he says what must be said, but he cannot forget Elia or her children. The return of their bones is poor amends. It is no fit response to murder.
Astoria finds that she feels nothing overmuch in the aftermath of seeing their bones; most things come to her in muted, grey tones, but the one thing she feels in strange bursts of brightness is the anger. It curls in her stomach, flares up like a flame blown into strength by a stray window, curling around and between her ribcage, finding its way into the darkest corners of her heart. It's the anger that strikes at certain moments; when she sits at Elia's desk in her chambers of the Old Palace, when she sees Oberyn frown at a sudden memory, when she sees Doran trail a hand over an empty seat.
