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The Daughter of the Sun 7

Chapter 7

The room was filled with the fragrance of ripe fruit. Even in winter, the Targaryens and their companions did have a variety of peaches, apples, oranges… Ashara even shared some blood oranges with him. He did not know where she found them. Not that she ate many of them – she was tired, pale, and anxious, all at once. Arthur thought it was the least convenient time for her to get ill and then immediately hated himself for thinking it.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked. To his surprise, she did not immediately insist that she was perfectly all right. She only looked at him. "Ashara?"

"I want to go to Starfall," she suddenly said, taking him aback. Given the circumstances, it was a sound wish. He'd rather see her in Starfall, instead of here, where, if they lost – which they wouldn't, of course – she'd be left on the mercy of Robert Baratheon. Frankly, Arthur did not think the man had any.

But Ashara had always preferred to be in the centre of events. Both Arthur and Elia had already proposed to her that she should leave and she had flat-out refused. She was not leaving them, she said, so now her sudden wish to do so came out as a complete surprise.

"Fine but why?"

Ashara hesitated, tempted to lie. But she knew she could not keep it a secret forever. And she'd rather have her brother hear about that from her own lips than a complete stranger's.

"Because I… I…" she started and faltered. Then, suddenly, she jumped up and came near, buried her face in his neck. Stunned, he felt the hot tears soaking through his tunic. "Don't be angry, Arthur… I am with child."

She could feel his body tightening, his breath coming out short. For an awful, endless moment there was a complete silence. And then, he said in low voice, "I did not expect it of you. And why didn't you tell me before? Who is this scoundrel?"

Suddenly, he pushed his sister aside with such force that Ashara flew against the wall. She would have hit it, had Arthur not reached out to steady her. His hands were shaking with suppressed rage. His fingers dug painfully into her shoulders. "Who dared to bring this shame to our House? Speak!"

"Eddard Stark," she whispered, paralyzed with fear. For the first time in her life, she felt threatened by Arthur. For all terrible scenarios she had painted in her mind, this was not one of them. Never before had her brother caused her physical pain.

"Eddard Stark!" he repeated in the same low, dangerous voice. "The one who married the Tully woman?"

"Yes," Ashara admitted and saw her brother's face cracking, his eyes fill with disbelief, anger and searing pain.

"So he got that child on you and then married another woman to ensure her family's support for the ridiculous rebellion Baratheon has raised over his precious Stark?"

Ashara did not respond. This controlled, logical voice scared her more than his earlier, first raving.

Arthur let her go and headed for the door.

"Wait!" she cried and ran after him. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to find him," he spat. "Where did you think I was going? He cannot mock you like this, Ashara. No one is going to treat you like this and live!"

She shivered. His normally calm, cool violet eyes had now darkened almost to black. In fact, they reminded her of the King's eyes right before his episodes of madness.

"No," she said, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. "No," she said again, as softly as she knew how. "He meant to marry me. He did not know about the baby. I did not know about the baby."

But he did know that he dishonoured you and he still married that Tully, Arthur thought but lost no time in explaining it to her. Then, he suddenly stopped and stared at her. "Did he… by force…?"

"No."

Arthur thanked the Seven for this little mercy and again looked at his sister, his eyes cold, accusing, upset. "You shall go to Starfall," he said. "We can't do anything else. And you'd better start thinking what you're going to explain to the child as to why his uncle killed his father."

This calm, icy voice was the best he could muster at the moment. Inside, his mind was reeling with rage at Stark, at Ashara, at the very moment they had approved the idea to let her come to King's Landing. And overwhelming guilt: he had always known how hotheaded, passionate and impulsive Ashara was but he had failed to take care of her, too wrapped in his own troubles, longings, and black moods. A big part of what she was facing now was his fault.

Still, Eddard Stark was the one who had used her and then discarded her. He had to die, no matter what. That was the only thought that stayed with him.

Ashara clung to him. She was now weeping with fear. Arthur was normally a very level-headed person but when anger overtook him, it was impossible to make him see reason. He was then capable of making some very ill-advised decisions. And right now, that would be dangerous. Ashara could fully see him riding to the rebel armies to call Ned out to a single combat. He's never make it so far alive. They'd throw a number of knights against him. And he would not suffer to be taken alive, even if Baratheon was inclined to show mercy.

"No, Arthur, don't! Stay with me," she begged, trying to think of something, anything, to make him come to his senses. "You are a Kingsguard. You cannot leave without permission. Let's talk to the Prince first, right?" she said and for the briefest of moments, she imagined the scene where they'd go to Rhaegar and ask him to let Arthur go and kill the father of her unborn child who was, accidentally, a brother to the Prince's concubine. One of the only two remaining brothers of the Prince's concubine. The very idea of it was ludicrous!

He silently shook her off. She ran after him again, her mind reeling with terror. Oh why did I tell him, she wailed soundlessly and desperately. Why did I tell him!

Arthur barely made it to the door, though: Lewyn Martell suddenly stood in the doorway, his slender frame not even remotely filling it. But he was lean and strong, and had the advantage of being prepared: a moment later, Arthur was in his sister's chamber again and Ashara closed the door and leaned against it. Lewyn's arms pinned Arthur's in a grip of iron. He silently tried to shake the other man off and failed. For a few long moments, they stayed like this, trying to overpower each other.

"Let me go, Lewyn," Arthur finally said.

"You do not pass by me, Arthur."

Arthur's pinioned hands clenched in fists. "I don't want to fight you, Lewyn. But I shall kill him." He was sure that the older man knew what he was talking about. His arrival had been too timely and he had immediately taken action.

"I know," the Martell prince said. "Believe me, I wholeheartedly want to let you slice him to pieces. But this isn't the way."

"Let me go!" Arthur growled without ceasing his struggle. "How come it that you don't understand?... This cold-blooded bastard did this to her and I shall kill him. To hell with Kingsguard vows!"

For a while, Arthur kept on struggling. Lewyn's grip did not slacken, though, and finally Arthur started seeing the world again through the thinning veil of the first wild rage. Ashara was huddled against the wall, with Elia stroking her hair. He had not seen her coming. He slumped wordlessly, tiredly in the strong arms pinning him and let Lewyn hold him as a father or a brother would, with his own father dead for so long and his brother so far away.

They stood like this for a long time before they moved. Lewyn looked at the two women and the still uncleared table. "Will you help me, lad?" he asked. "Your sister thinks this room needs some rearranging."

Arthur blinked and so did Ashara. But he obediently joined Lewyn in moving tables, pushing sofas around and rearranging heavy cupboards with more force than what was justified. When the bear head was knocked from its place over the fireplace, the sound of its rattle from the carpet to the bare marble floor finally pushed Jaime Lannister into entering. "What in the seven hells is going on?" he asked and threw a quick glance at Elia in silent apology. But he was the Kingsguard appointed to her today. He could not let such cacophony of noises uninvestigated. The fact that there were two other Kingsguards in the room with her, one of them her own uncle, was irrelevant. "What are you doing with this bear?"

"He's just leaving," Lewyn announced and Ashara laughed hysterically. Now assured that the Princess was in no danger, the boy was quick to make himself scarce.

When Arthur finally exhausted all his despair, all his strength, he leaned against the wall in exhaustion. In the far end of the room, Lewyn was talking to Ashara in quiet voice. Elia stood before Arthur. In her eyes, he saw concern that made his heart flutter with joy, despite the circumstances.

"I'm fine," he said and saw the relief in her eyes at the normal sounding of his voice. She went to a near table and came back with a wet cloth. Then, she took his left hand in hers. Only then did he notice that both his hands were red and sticky with blood. Silently, she started washing them.

"I failed her," he suddenly said. "I knew she was hotheaded but…"

"Ashara has always had a mind of her own," Elia said calmly, steadily. "I doubt you could do anything to stop her."

"Yes but I knew how she was and I should have stopped her. It was my duty and I failed her. Just like I failed you," he added tiredly.

Elia looked at him, surprised. For all the little hints he had always given unwittingly, he had never openly admitted that he had caused her pain and that he knew it. Well, only once when he had been drunk but that did not count. Besides, he did not remember about that… did he?

Arthur nodded. "At the night of Aegon's presentation, you told me you loved me." His voice was a mere shadow of a whisper. "And you said it before, once… A few years ago, when that hunting mishap let me with a spear in my side and you stayed with me until help came, and we both thought I'd bleed to death before a maester could come, you told me you loved me."

Elia stared at him in shock. She had not expected that he'd remember either of those times. She should have feel ashamed at exposing herself like that, going after a man who had spurned her and yet, she wasn't. She should declare her devotion to her husband but she was no longer devoted to him. She's never acknowledge it aloud, of course, but that was how she felt. She had never loved Rhaegar but now the fondness that had existed between them was gone, at least on her part. And where did that leave her?

Forgive him, she heard her uncle's voice again. He has suffered too.

She sighed and just for a moment, brought his bruised right hand to her cheek.