Book Three: Chapter 11

Lord Pike’s eyes are as cold and merciless as the ice of The Wall, and there is not a flicker to them as his hands tighten around her neck, an iron band cutting into her skin. He does not seem to hear her gasping cries, or feel the prying of her fingers, her nails digging so deep that warm, sticky blood spills across their skin. She tries to feel around behind her, but there is nothing she can use as a weapon, and his weight is so heavy on her chest that she can scarcely breathe. When she opens to scream again, no sound comes out and his eyes glint, his fingers tighten. Her head spins, and she reaches up to claw at his face, his eyes, her nails scouring through his skin until it looks as though he has been mauled by a wild beast. Beneath her fingers, his skin begins to crumble, and she watches in horror as it peels away in long, bloody strips, falling away to reveal an empty face behind it.

 The touch to her shoulder jars her so violent that she startles awake with a gasp, jerking away from the touch. Through the dim light she makes out Nako’s figure, holding out a candle and hesitating over her. 

Her eyes are creased with concern, one tendril of curled hair falling out from her braid as she takes a slight step back. “I’m sorry, your majesty, you wanted to be woken before the dawn?” 

Her breath seems to return to her in staggered stages, and she pulls air back into her lungs. Her voice is weak and broken when she answers. “Yes, yes I’m sorry Nako. I was just startled.”

Concern still lingers at the corners of Nako’s gaze, but she gives a nod and turns away to light the tapers around the room and stir the fire into life. 

Sakura pulls in a slow, unsteady breath, watching her with vacant eyes. Her fingers ease up to touch softly at her neck, the ghost of a bruise tingling beneath her fingertips. It seems impossible that her nails are not caked in blood, and not hoarse with screaming, and bile rises in when she thinks of Pike’s skin falling away into her hands. 

Nako must sense her disquiet, because she breaks the silence with mindless words as she draws the water and warms it over the fire. “The weather should be fair today, your majesty. The sky was as pink as a peach last night. Summer will be here before we know it.” 

“Yes,” Sakura eases herself slowly from the bed, wriggling her toes against the cold slabbed floor. “I do so long for it.” 

“We all do,” Nako smiles, and steps behind her when she settles into the chair in front her looking glass. “Will you wear your crown today, your majesty?” 

“No,” Sakura shakes her head, reaching out to run the pad of her thumb over a rose petal in the vase before her. “For today, I think I would like to forget I am the queen.”

The sun has risen by the time she descends the final sandy steps onto the private docks behind the castle. It is already a warm day, and she is glad of the hazy, light fabric of her dress, baring her back and her arms just as she used to when she was young and care free in Highgarden. Her hair is pulled back into soft golden braids, a golden, rose shaped clasp keeping them together, and a light stole is draped over her arms, in case the weather turns. The dock is quiet in the morning sunshine, but for Eunbi, Chaewon and Chaeyeon, waiting patiently beside the low, bobbing pleasure barge. Eunbi is dressed more lightly than Sakura has ever seen her before, with britches and a white linen shirt, pulled with a honeycomb stitch at the top of her arm. Her tunic bares her arms and is fastened down its front with silver direwolf pins, her hair pulled back in a simple braid. 

As she approaches Eunbi turns and offers a smile so wide she is caught off guard for a moment. Gone are their secret smiles of the past, shared glances hidden in the embers of their forbidden love, and in its place is something that seems to have risen from the spring itself, its head turning to the new sunlight. Her heart stutters, as it hasn’t since those fateful days in Winterfell so very long ago, and she feels a flush rising to her cheeks as Eunbi nods her greeting. 

“Sakura.”

“Eunbi.” She returns, as she crosses the final few steps that separate them. She has to dig her nails into her hand to keep from reaching out and touching Eunbi, so great is the depth of her feeling. Though they cannot be heard here, there may still be eyes watching, and it wouldn’t do to stir any unrest in the people. “Have you been waiting long? I apologise, I slept poorly.”

“No,” Eunbi’s brows twitch with concern at her words, but she doesn’t comment. “No, not long at all.”

“Your wolves are not with you,” Sakura observes, as they fall into step walking down the dock together towards the pleasure barge. When Eunbi shakes her head, Sakura cannot help but press, eager and curious. “I have never seen you without them.”

They come to a stop beside the barge and Eunbi turns to look at her with eyes that see straight to the deepest parts of herself. “Perhaps,” She muses, softly, “they know that I don’t need them, not here and now.” 

The words catch at her tender heart more acutely than she expects, and when Eunbi offers her hand out to help her down the gangplank onto the barge, she finds that she is trembling at the touch. They board one after the other, their guards accompanying them. The pleasure barge is a long, shallow vessel, towards the front of which a low bench is hidden from the sun by a canopy of hazy curtains. Sakura sinks into the cushions there, and after a moment of hesitation Eunbi joins her. The curtains swing about them, and though they are not alone, the illusion is almost as good. 

Behind them, Sakura’s most trusted and expert oarsmen push away from the dock so silently and smoothly that she barely realises they are moving until the dock begins to slip away and leave them with only a distant view of the city. 

Eunbi must notice her glancing over her shoulder, because she asks, quietly. “Are you worried about leaving it behind? If only for the day?”

Sakura pauses and considers her words, glancing back at the imposing towers of the Red Keep, reaching up into the blue sky as if they intend to pluck the sun from its perch themselves. Part of her worries, a part of her that she expects will never stop worrying, but it is not enough to draw her back. “No,” She answers honestly, and Eunbi’s smile makes her eyes shine. 

As they sail smoothly from the harbour, Sakura runs her hand over the embroidered cushions below them, trailing her fingers across the golden stitching. 

“It’s beautiful,” Eunbi comments, obviously watching her, and Sakura nods. 

“It was made for King Thelonious and his wife, to allow them to leave the city in privacy and luxury.”

“I never met the king’s wife,” Eunbi admits, “But I hear she was a beautiful and clever queen.”

“So do I,” Sakura offers her a small smile. “King Thelonious loved her very dearly. He was never the same after her death.”

Eunbi’s gaze holds hers. “They were lucky to have each other, even for such a short time.”

Warmth and peace washes over her, as it always does when Eunbi looks at her so deeply and truthfully, as if she is the thing she is most sure of in the whole world. Sakura has to glance away, to keep herself from flushing and stuttering like a fool, and after a moment she manages to find her words enough to speak. 

“Yujin once told me about your mother, he said that she was the only woman your father ever loved.”

“They were very devoted to one another,” Eunbi admits, “Or so I have heard,” Her voice changes, catching and breaking over some unspoken emotion. “I never met her.”

Sakura reaches out and twines their fingers together, keeping her voice soft. “You must miss her.”

“No,”Eunbi conjures up a smile which is as false as a mummer’s mask. “How could I miss something I never even knew?”

“A bird caged for all of its life will still miss the sky,” Sakura counters, and squeezes their fingers to ease her words. “You can admit it, I won’t think any differently of you.”

“I know you won’t,” Her thumb rubs a gentle circle over the smooth skin of Sakura’s palm. 

They are disturbed by Hyewon clearing obnoxiously from beyond the hazy curtains. Sakura glowers at the hazy shadow of her shape and she catches Eunbi biting back her smile as she calls out. 

“Yes, Hyewon?”

“Your majesty,” Hyewon must take that as her cue, because she puts her head around the curtains and can’t look either of them in the eye when she says. “There are refreshments for you, would you like them brought in?”

Sakura purses her lips, annoyed despite herself, and then nods curtly. “Yes, that would be fine I suppose.”

“Thank you, Hyewon,” Eunbi puts in, still trying not to laugh at Sakura’s utter lack of manners. They settle back onto the bench as plates of dewy strawberries and goblets of cool, watered down wine are delivered by their guards and set upon the low table before them. 

“The sea here is so beautiful,” Eunbi comments, as Sakura picks up a strawberry. “So blue and clear and bright.”

“There are legends of mermaids in these parts,” Sakura tells her, offering out the plate of fruits. “Sirens who would steal away sailors’ hearts with their songs and seduce them with their beauty.”

Eunbi’s eyes linger upon her face. “I think I understand their plight.”

—-

They finally slow when they reach a spit of land, barely big enough to call itself an island, with sandy shores and a  few rolling hills on which long grass and a smattering of trees grow, some hanging heavy and colourful with their fruit. The island has no dock and so their shallow ship simply slows to a stop amongst the sandy shores, bobbing  back and forth in the clear water. 

Eunbi gazes out onto the spit of land and her brows furrow, “Where are we?” 

“This is royal land,” Sakura explains, as their guards busy themselves preparing to disembark. “Nobody comes here but the king or queen.” She cannot help but smile at the blush that dusts Eunbi’s cheeks when she adds. “We will be completely alone.” 

“I see,” Eunbi tries to hide her smile, “Would you like me to carry you to shore, my lady?” 

“Not at all,” Years of practice with Wells make it easy enough for her to follow Chaewon and Hyewon into the water. Slipping her shoes from her feet, she gathers her skirts in one hand and holds the other out for balance as she slips from their vessel and into the warm, shallow waters. The sand shifts beneath her feet and for one horrifying moment she thinks she might fall, but rights herself just in time. 

When she looks back to the boat, Eunbi’s astonished expression draws a delighted laugh from her and everything feels light and delicious as she watches Eunbi pull her shoes from her feet and follow her into the water. When she too stumbles, Sakura holds out her hand to steady her and Eunbi laces their fingers together, holding tightly as they make their way together up to the beach. The sand is warm and soft beneath their feet, and their fingers stay laced together even as they find their feet. 

“Ser Chaeyeon and Captain Snow will go on ahead with the servants, your majesty,” Chaewon says, once they have approached. “And ensure everything is safe and set up. We will follow,” She indicates to herself and Ser Roan. “Just in case.”

Sakura gives Eunbi a wide smile and she feels filled with a childlike glee as she leads the way from the beach to the well trodden path through grass and trees. 

“Where are we going?” Eunbi looks to her, expression open and curious, and Sakura squeezes her fingers.

“You’ll see.”

They tread their way carefully through the undergrowth, their shoes still held in their hands. Beneath their feet, the grass is as soft as sheepskin, warm from the sun and sandy, and Sakura luxuriates in the feeling as she walks. Together, they make their way to the highest point on the island, their fingers never untangling from one another, exchanging soft conversation. Though the air is warm and the sun glows down upon them, it feels as if they are back at Winterfell again, sitting in the library or walking the battlements, so comfortable is their quiet conversation.

“This place is beautiful,” Eunbi says, as they walk through a grove of orange trees. “So quiet and peaceful.”

“The best is yet to come,” Sakura promises, with a smile, and guides them into a clearing.

Still shaded by orange trees, before them the gentle rise they have been climbing falls away sharply into the sea, and the view it exposes is a breath taking expanse of crystal blue waters. In the distance, the mainland is visible: the tall towers of the Red Keep and gathered around it like sycophants the rusted tile roofs of the city. Upon the ground are spread rugs and cushions for them to lounge on, hazy strips and fabric hanging from the trees to keep the hot midday sun from their faces, and a spread of breads and cheese, meats and fruits, is awaiting them.

Eunbi casts her a shy, surprised smile. “You planned this.”

“Of course,” Sakura fights against the beam that is threatening to spread across her features. “Won’t you sit, my lady?”

With a smile Eunbi sinks onto the floor, settling upon the cushions. She turns back to their combined Queensguards as Sakura follows her, and waves her hand to them. “We are perfectly safe here for the moment, you may all go.”

Hyewon and Chaewon exchange a disgruntled glance, but when Sakura nods her agreement they move away reluctantly, peeling back into the trees until you could almost forget they were there. They are suddenly as alone as they ever are, but there are no nerves now and when Sakura looks up into Eunbi’s face she feels contentment shine through her, like the sun into a darkened room.

“I can understand why you missed your home when you were with us in Winterfell.” Eunbi tells her, once they have both settled back into the cushions, so close that they are almost touching. “Truly, this place is beautiful.”

“Oh, Kings Landing is not my home,” Sakura shakes her head, and curls fall over her shoulders. “Even now, it is nothing compared to Highgarden.” 

“We’ve never really spoken about Highgarden,” Eunbi gazes down upon her, “You have seen every inch of my home and yet I know almost nothing about yours.”

Something pinches in her heart at the mention of home and she has to avert her gaze, running a stray thread of embroidery from one of the cushions between her fingers. “Highgarden is like… a dream compared to Kings Landing. The sun always shines and the sky seems to go on forever and ever.”

“Tell me about your favourite places to go, when you were growing up there?” When Sakura looks at her, surprised by her words, Eunbi explains, with the most earnest tenderness. “I want to know you Sakura, all of you.”

The smile that has been tugging at her lips appears, unbidden and difficult to shake away.  “Once I learned to ride I used to love setting out into the rose fields alone. Our lands went on for leagues, I could ride for a whole day and never meet anyone who bore me ill will.” She glances at Eunbi from beneath her lashes and watches the queen’s face begin to colour under her hooded gaze as she continues. “When I became older and young lords began calling I would ride with them out to the orange grove or the orchards of peach trees, and we would find some shadowy place to hide away.” She has the distinct pleasure of watching the blush settle and darken upon Eunbi’s cheeks, and laughs quietly at the sight.

Eunbi makes a disgruntled little noise in the back of , but leans in to accept the strawberry Sakura offers as a peace token. The juice spills over her fingers and across Eunbi’s lips, and Sakura struggles to tear her gaze away as Eunbi’s tongue darts out to catch the sweet droplets. Her breath comes out in a soft sigh, and Eunbi’s eyes are dark, even as she draws herself reluctantly away. Sakura pours them both a goblet of wine, desperate to drown out the yearning hum that has settled in her , but when their fingers brush together, the touch of Eunbi’s warm hands sends a shiver through her like she has never felt before and she feels like a young maid again.

Eunbi’s eyes flicker to her, as green as the leaves that stretch for the sky around them, and Sakura feels almost breathless at the sight. Eunbi finally tearing her eyes away only barely helps her claw back her sanity, and she takes a long draft of her wine to hide her flushed cheeks, though she is sure it barely works.

“I’m sure you charmed many young lordlings into giving away their heart to you.” Eunbi finally jokes, her voice weak, but Sakura laughs obligingly anyway.

“There were several marriage proposals,” She admits, at last, sharing a teasing smile with Eunbi. “But none who were remotely suitable.”

“It is a fair archer who could ever catch the heart of a Lady Sakura Tyrell,” Eunbi’s voice is soft and her eyes glance away to the view, as if afraid of what she will see in Sakura’s expression.

Unable to help herself, and unsure why she should, Sakura reaches out and traces gentle fingers over the back of Eunbi’s hand, easing it over until she can lace their fingers together and Eunbi’s eyes are drawn back to hers again.

“It is a good thing that you shoot so well then,” She murmurs into the space between them. “I would not want to give my heart to any but you.”

Eunbi’s breath escapes her in a stutter at her words and when her fingers tighten which affectionate tenderness, Sakura swears her heart stops in her chest.

“I once wondered what it would have been like if we had met before… everything.” Under Eunbi’s curious gaze she is powerless but to continue, “If you had to come to Highgarden as a guest of my father and our eyes had met over feasts and dancing.” 

“I know what would have happened,” Eunbi remarks, her voice so low that Sakura’s eyes widen in surprise. “I would have been helpless before you, Sakura.” Eunbi’s thumb tracks a warm over her palm.

“And I you,” She admits, in a whisper. “Of all of the suitors, not one has ever compared to you, Eunbi. Sometimes I-” She cuts herself off, suddenly shy and uncertain. She has kept her heart so closely guarded for so long, the chains that protect it are stiff and old.

Familiar fingers, warm and rough from years of swinging swords and pulling back bowstrings, nudge at her chin and when she raises her gaze she finds Eunbi looking back at her, eyes as soft as summer grass. “You can tell me anything, love.”

The name sounds so perfect falling from her lips and Sakura leans into her touch as Eunbi cups her cheek.

“After all we have been through, all we have seen and survived, sometimes I still fear that my love for you will break my heart open.” The words leave her in a rush, and when she glances up at Eunbi she worries what she will see in her eyes.

Despite her fears, there is nothing but love in Eunbi’s gaze, and when she offers out her arms, Sakura falls into her embrace gratefully, allowing Eunbi to wrap her arms around her and press them together so tightly that Sakura feels as if she is sinking into her. She is surrounded by Eunbi’s warm scent, pinewood and something sweet and soft, a flora she cannot place, and when Sakura rubs her cheek against her shoulder, her lips skim the exposed skin above her shirt.

“My love,” She speaks with more tenderness and emotion than Sakura has ever heard in any two words. “Sakura, I promise to protect your heart, no matter what. I swear it, before the old gods and the new.”

Sakura’s breath hitches, and she blinks tears from her eyes as she places her hand very carefully over Eunbi’s heart, spreading her fingers apart. Beneath her touch, she can feel the steady thrum of Eunbi’s heartbeat, and it is like opium to her, spreading peace throughout her body so that her voice is calm and measured when she answers.

“And I promise to protect yours, always.”

Eunbi’s hand still rests on her cheek, and when she  guides Sakura’s face gently up to look at hers, it feels as natural as breathing to part her lips and breach the space between them, kissing her. Eunbi’s lips are soft beneath hers, the fingers that thread into her hair and hold her close- as if she would ever wish to escape this blessed prison- are impossibly gentle. This must be the heaven her Septas told her about, Sakura thinks, absently, for how else could she explain the pure, unadulterated joy that spreads through her at Eunbi’s touch. They break apart only when they have to gasp for breath, foreheads pressed together and lips still brushing. She feels as if she is addicted to Eunbi and cannot bear to pull herself away, if even for a second. For her part, it seems that Eunbi feels the same way, because she does not unwrap her embrace, keeping them so close together that they are sharing breath. 

Still, Eunbi’s eyes flicker open and find Sakura looking up at her, and her expression shifts with the slightest unease. “Is this alright?” She asks, in a whisper, and Sakura lets out a soft breath of laughter. 

“Of course,” She answers, and cradles Eunbi’s cheeks in her hands to bring their lips together again. 

Eunbi’s lips are like a tonic for an ailment she did not know she had. They taste like strawberries and wine, and her skin is soft as butter beneath Sakura’s touch. Their bodies seem to move as if they know exactly where they should be and when, like a dance that they never knew they had been learning, but in this moment Sakura cannot think of any reason she wouldn’t want to be as close to Eunbi as possible. Her body shifts and she drops her hand to curl at Eunbi’s waist, fingers tightening in the fabric of her linen shirt, until she is pressing Eunbi back into the cushions, their kisses becoming hot and heavy and more desperate than Sakura knew love could be. 

The brunette gasps for air again, and Sakura takes the momentary respite to continue pressing her lips to Eunbi’s jaw bone, tracing its sharp ridge with her kisses, worshipping the valley of her neck until Eunbi runs a tender thumb over her cheek and draws her up. She kisses her quickly, though there is nothing chaste about it, it is all fire and passion, as if she cannot help herself, and then says, her voice breaking over her ragged breaths. 

“Sakura, I don’t- We have to stop now if-”

“I don’t want to stop.” Sakura insists, and presses back into her love like Eunbi is air and she will suffocate without her. “Please, please Eunbi.” When still the northerner hesitates, Sakura adds, a desperate yearning  to her voice. “You are the only person I will ever love like this,” is tight and she brushes away the tears that slip down her cheeks impatiently. “Please, Eunbi. Please let me love you and know what it is to be loved in return.”

Gentle fingers curl around hers, stilling her furious movements, and Eunbi meets her eyes with green so deep Sakura thinks for a moment that she can smell clover fields and a fresh spring rain. Tenderly, she runs her thumbs over Sakura’s cheeks, catching her tears. “All I want is to love you,” She admits, in the quietest of whispers. 

When their lips meet a