CHAPTER SIX.
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Who in his mind has not probed the dark water?

JOHN STEINBECK, EAST OF EDEN
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"WHAT ABOUT YOU, SWEET ASTORIA?"

She turns to Elia, her eyes holding question. The three ladies sit on the balcony belonging to Ashara's chambers, chattering and sipping Lyseni Tea.

"Where do you hide your heart for someone to steal it?" Elia asks once more, one dark eyebrow raised. She looks lovely, bronze skin bathed in the dying light of the sun and bringing a glimmer to her dark eyes.

Beside her, the Pentoshi hears Ashara laughing lightly. "I prefer to keep such things to myself and myself only," she murmurs, cheeks reddening. "Though I do not let men visit my bed and body easily."

"Pray tell us your secrets," Elia cries out, eyes opened wide and with a smile that seems too big for her face. "As your dearest friend I feel inclined to know whether you are still a hopeless maiden."

"From the looks shared by her and my brother, I can assure you, she is not anymore."

     "Oh, shush! He and I would never," she tries to quiet them but cannot help herself. A giggle that is so unlike her escapes her lips and she imagines them, naked and panting, while a dark blush creeps up her neck. Astoria cannot deny that Arthur Dayne is an unusually handsome man, more so than most lords she had acquainted herself with. It is hard to overlook his obvious beauty when it is presented to you on a silver platter, with lilac eyes, a soft smile and sun-kissed skin.

NIGHT HAS ALMOST FALLEN WHEN Ashara forces them to leave by falling asleep. Pregnancy has taken a toll on her body and mind and she needs rest.

Elia and Astoria laugh quietly to themselves as they tip-toe around her chambers, trying not to wake the poor girl out of her slumber. With a grin, the Pentoshi opens the wooden doors to the endless halls. They are illuminated by the burning torches that line the castle's stony walls, throwing a warm, red light upon the two women.

     "My ladies," a voice greets them from the shadows.

     Astoria's heart flutters at the sound of his voice and when she looks up at Arthur, her breath catches in her throat. "Ser," she acknowledges him with a faint smile. "Your sister has fallen asleep. It seems that we are uncommonly boring."

    "I doubt that very much indeed," he grins sloppily. "I shall accompany you to your chambers."

     "I will surely find them on my own without any threatening danger," Elia respons behind her, smirking. "But thank you, Arthur." With a cheeky smile, she disappears in the looming darkness.

Of course, Astoria knows what Elia is up to. Judging by the amused grin the Kingsguard quickly tries to hide, he knows, too. The unsettling silence that follows them through the castle does not vanish when they stand before her chambers. She remembers when they had stood here, in the same place, a moon ago, on the day of Rhaegar's nameday celebrations, when he had crowned her his Queen of Love and Beauty. The sounds of music and song had spilled through the castle's halls back then but now it is eerily quiet.

Astoria looks at Arthur then — really looks at him. He is smiling lazily, disarmingly, handsomely. His hair is sweaty and clings at the tips to his tanned face. His eyes are a soft lilac and the Pentoshi wishes then that he'd be just a man.

"You've been drinking, haven't you?"

"Yes. I suppose I have."

"My, my. A member of the Kingsguard? What would the king say?"

"He would say nothing because he will not find out," he replies, smile still intact. "Besides, it makes me bold."

"And why would you need to be bold?"

It is not a question so much as it is a grant of permission. He had asked; she had responded, and yet, the word kiss is never uttered. But as it turns out, it did not need to be. Arthur's moment of hesitation is all the warning she gets before he grabs her by the waist and kisses her, hard and careless. It takes any hope of breath from her, and when he pulls away, all she can do is stare. After a few moments he lets go but doesn't back away.

Her lips burn from the kiss and she yearns for more. In the light of the low-burning candles, her hair shines like woven gold. Slowly, carefully, she steps into her chambers, her green eyes never leaving his, inviting him in without words.

      At first, he seems careful not to overstep any boundaries but tonight, Astoria does not want him to be honourable. She has no desire to see the lord, the heir, the knight. His mouth tastes like wine and peppers, and Astoria idly recognizes that he is a good kisser. As he presses her against the wall of her chamber, he is far from hesitant or polite. Within seconds he is fiddling with the laces on her shift, all too aware of what lies beneath. Little time passes until laces are undone, breeches shoved over hips and down calves for Arthur to stand bare at her back.

     He does not touch her, instead moving his hands to her hair, slowly undoing the heavy braids, patiently pulling out pin after pin until her hair falls around her like a cloak. Only then does he reach out, moving his hands further down her body.

HER HAIR FLOWS IN DARK rivulets down her back as she stands by the window looking out over the city hours later, skin bare and pale and bluish in the moonlight. Astoria had awoken in the middle of the night, Arthur still softly snoring next to her with his arm draped over her slim form.

     Sweat had covered her brow and she had yearned for fresh air. It takes mere minutes for the Pentoshi to hear the familiar sound of quiet footsteps behind her and she smiles lightly. Arthur lays his head on her shoulder and years later, after the war, she would still think back to this moment, remembering the way he had smelled of Dorne, of Pentos, of home. His skin is soft under her fingers as he takes her hands for her to face him.

     His face holds no smile but his eyes are content, sleep still very much present in them. What truly catches her eye, however, is that his torso is riddled with scars of varying sizes and severities, some silvery-white with age, others far newer, jagged and red. "I was arrogant to think that I could uphold my vows while watching my brothers do the opposite," he begins quitely. "I always believed them to be weak."

     "You've bedded a woman, not slain the king," Astoria whispers, trying to make him feel better. "Trust me when I say that you are the most honourable man I have ever met."

     His smile is lovely.

     Somehow she knows he'll be gone by daybreak, but for now he's hers, body and soul.

SHE IS PROVEN RIGHT WHEN the morning sun wakes her from the peaceful slumber she had succumbed to. Arthur is gone by the time Astoria opens her eyes, but in his place is a pink wildflower. With a secret smile she can't seem to get rid of, she happily tucks the fresh blossom into her hair.

      Astoria is almost certain she'd imagined everything when she rises, except she aches in a way she never has before, and she remembers. Not with clarity, it's all a blur, but she remembers the rush of lust, the thrill of being illicit, of letting herself be reckless for once, the way his eyes had held passion.

Astoria chides herself for being charmed by a man she can never have. I am a foolish girl, she thinks quietly, not leaving her bed or chambers for hours. But it is so easy to be fooled by that man.

DARLING, DEAREST, DEAD.

shit is hitting the pan my dudes and i was finally able to write some doing the dirty with my mans