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loggiepj · 30 days ago

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To Love A Lannister

chapter 17 | chapter 18

A door softly creaked behind you, the eerie sound making you turn from where you were sitting only to look at the intruder.

Queen Daenerys had typical Valyrian features of silver-gold hair, purple eyes and pale skin. Anyone would be a fool to deny of her beauty. Aside from her slender like figure, what stood out the most was the tough exterior she possessed from her gaze.

One thing was for certain. Your sister looked more Targaryen than you could ever be.

"How's your wound?" Queen Daenerys asked. Missandei was standing behind her with head bowed down.

Forcing out a weak smile her way while massaging your arm, you shrugged. "Pain's barely there anymore, Your Grace."

"Please," she said as she chuckled, moving inside the room then taking a seat beside you on the bed. "You're my sister. . . My only family left. Call me Dany."

"You're my Queen," you declared, the word causing a bitter taste in your mouth. Cersei would always be your Queen. And you'd bleed for her a thousand times if you had to. It sparked a dilemma inside your heart.

"You don't have to prove your loyalty to me," Daenarys said as she stood abruptly, heading towards the window where she could see your dragon Nymeros towering over her children. It was apparent that Nymeros was older and more massive than the Queen's two smallest dragons combined. "We're Targaryen by blood. And the right rulers of the Seven Kingdom. I'm sure nothing could persuade you from that," she paused, "well, not unless you're still devoted to her."

Your gazes met and hers sported a questioning curiosity. You knew she was referring to Cersei and your love affair. Upon knowing Tyrion as her hand when you arrived at Dragonstone just two weeks ago, you believed Daenerys knew more about you than you knew about her. Varys was even one of her counselors. There wasn't a single thing Varys didn't know.

"I'm sure you have heard about what happened in the Capital upon their return," she went on, walking past you as she headed back to the door.

Of course, you had. It was chaos.

Cersei had taken over the throne. It turned out that after her father's death, King Tommen had gone mentally incapable to rule the Kingdom, rendering him bed ridden and mute. You pitied the boy so much but who wouldn't go crazy if your own wife would leave you just like that.

But you couldn't blame Margaery either when she went ballistic upon finding out her grandmother Lady Olenna was assassinated by Ser Jaime himself. It appeared that the Lannisters had finally found out she was the culprit behind late King Joffrey's murder.

They had also taken captive those from Dorne who attempted to execute Princess Myrcella, including Oberyn and your guardian father.

If you had to be honest, you felt a bit hurt that Cersei was now ruling with the support of Prince Doran, your real father, by her side, considering what he did and did not do to claim you as his child.

"People like them have no heart to rule Westeros," Daenerys continued, bringing you back to the present. "It will never change. . . All we have now is each other."

~~~

"I thought I'd never get to see you again," you said, greeting Tyrion as he climbed down a boat along the shores of Dragonstone. There were a group of men following his stead, and a couple of others still on their boats.

"I still have luck on my side, My Lady," he replied, looking at the sky where anyone could see four dragons flying around the castle. "It's a nice addition to the group, you know. If I had known sooner you're more than just a viper from the South, I would have served you well."

A forced cough made you look at the strangers. There was a different kind of aura coming from the burly man with a beard looking at you as if you knew each other.

"Excuse my bad manners, Lady Y/n, this is Jon Snow—"

"King Jon Snow," another man with thin white hair corrected, stepping beside Jon. "He's King in the North now."

"Right." Tyrion could only sigh. "This is Ser Davos, Jon's advisor."

"I thought the Seven Kingdoms only have one ruler," you said, earning a curious look from Jon. "I don't think my sister will appreciate such title."

"We have business to discuss with Queen Daenerys," Jon answered, walking past you, "about the things happening right now in the North. Titles will have no meaning if we're all dead."

You looked at Tyrion in confusion as he shrugged his shoulders. He urged for you to follow them as they headed towards the castle, where you could see from a distance Queen Daenerys looking down below at all of you. "The North is currently at war against the Night King."

"And we need more men," Jon added, his voice sounding urgent, "and we need more dragonglass and forge them into weapons."

"Dragonglass are known to be effective against the White Walkers," Tyrion explained by your side as you walked together. "They had been mining back and forth for months now."

"So it's true then, what they say about the White Walkers?" you asked.

Jon gave one look at you before he nodded, "Either you have dragonglass or Valyrian steel, we have no chance against them."

"What about the dragons?"

Jon bit back his mouth before he turned, walking away from you. Ser Davos gave a small bow before he went after Jon.

Tyrion sighed beside you. "He's still convincing the Queen to fight alongside him."

"What's stopping Dany?"

"Cersei."

You turned to look at him.

He went on. "Queen Daenerys will only fight with Jon if they both bent the knee in her favor. Both Jon and Cersei."

You knew then Jon would have to fight alone because there was no chance Cersei would do such a thing.

~~~

After what seemed like a lifetime discussing about the plans on the war against the White Walkers and how to convince Cersei to give up the Iron Throne, you surrendered to the darkness of the night outside the castle, facing the lonely shores of Dragonstone.

You had visited Nymeros half an hour ago. The dragon was happy it was finally where he belonged yet you could tell he was uneasy for the fight that was about to come.

"You look so much like your mother if you only had silver hair." The alluring accent made you alert and look behind you. It was none other than the Red woman herself, Melisandre. She was wearing her red cloak, a hood over her head as her eyes pierced right through you.

"What are you doing here?" was the first thing that came into your mind. The last time you remembered, she was serving Stannis Baratheon, who died during one of the battles in the North.

"Serving the true heir to the throne," she replied, wrapping her arms around her body as the cold breeze from the sea blew towards the both of you.

"My sister have four dragons to her side," you said, chuckling lightly. "I barely think she needs a dedicated follower of the Lord of the Light too."

"I wasn't talking about her," Melisandre replied, now looking at the dark horizon before you.

Her firm response made you stare at the woman. There was no chance she knew about your parentage.

"You were there," you began, slowly remembering, "you were there at the boar hunt Joffrey had planned, at the ambush."

"I was there to protect you," she answered, "as I have sworn since the day you were born."

"What?"

"If I weren't there when Stannis' soldiers attacked you, that arrow would have lunged straight to your heart."

"But you distracted me—"

"Did I really?" Mellisandre looked at you with a smirk on her face before she turned away.

You swallowed nervously. "When you say since the day I was born. . ."

"Yes, I was there when Rhaella gave birth to you," she said. "You were so tiny then, yet your cries were as fierce as a dragon's. Rhaella made me swear to look after you and I did. All these years."

There was a brief silence of you trying to understand what she was telling you. No, she could just be lying to you. She was a witch after all.

"It was me who set Nymeros free from his chains in the cave when you were still young," she went on, "if he'd still be chained, he wouldn't be able to save you from drowning. Or that time you were held hostage by a band of thieves from Braavos, where you mysteriously succeeded in escaping not knowing your captors were already unalived."

"Why? What are you to my mother? Why do you owe her that much to save a child you barely knew?"

Melisandre only went silent, avoiding your gaze.

~~~

"Let me convince her," you said, seeing defeat from your sister and Jon's faces when they came back from the Capital with no good news. Cersei didn't waver. She was stubborn, face stoic as what Ser Davos had observed when she watched a White Walker Jon had captured from the North just to convince everyone in Westeros that death was real.

Daenerys even lost one of her dragons for that quest, yet Cersei was still merciless and selfish.

Daenerys scoffed. "You think she'd bend the knee just because you did? I thought you know her enough."

"I know she'd never bend the knee, but she'd fight alongside with you if she knew what we're facing against—"

"She had enough of that evidence running straight to her face yet it still didn't scare her," Ser Davos butted in.

"Cersei, however less of expression her face shows, is mighty convinced the sea surrounding the Capital will keep the White Walkers away," Varys chimed in. "Unless they have figured out ways to swim or fly."

"Which they can now that they have one of my children," Daenerys hissed.

"I know Cersei since I was a child," Jon interrupted. "She has no heart—"

"You're wrong," you said, defending Cersei. You were whipped, but you knew the Lannister woman better than anyone in the room did. "You don't know her better than I do. She cares enough even when she doesn't show it—"

"Maybe to you," Tyrion said. "But what about now when you're no longer a good fuck to her?"

You glared at Tyrion, knowing he had a point. You didn't exactly leave Cersei in good terms.

"You always knew what she was but you loved her anyway," Tyrion added, sighing in defeat.

"At least, let me try," you pleaded, now facing Daenerys. She was hesitant to let you go. She hadn't even let you go with them. Maybe she did care about you. Or maybe she didn't trust you enough to be loyal to her and go back.

"Bring Nymeros with you," Daenerys said, as she walked away from the counselors. You nodded eagerly amidst the complaints from others, not wasting another second to leave the room.

~~~

"Did you forget what I said I'd do when I see you step your foot in the Capital?" Cersei's cold voice echoed through the entire hall. "You are looking for death if you think I'd help you and your usurper of a sister's cause."

You knew you should be scared. Tyrion had been right all along. You were immediately captured the moment Nymeros left you as soon as you landed on the shores of the Red Keep, near the Blackwater gates.

But even when the Queen's guards poked you with their spears as they forced you to kneel before her, before Cersei herself, you couldn't find it in yourself to be terrified of her.

For almost two months of not seeing her, all you wanted to do was kiss the woman, hug her, touch her and more. Cersei looked much fiercer and tougher than she was the last time you saw her. She had changed yet beauty still incomparable. Her golden hair was adorned with the most elegant looking crown with the Lannister's sigil.

Aside from Nymeros, she was truly the only beautiful thing you had ever witnessed in your life.

But of course, Cersei never cared about you. You were just a good lay, as Tyrion had said.

"My Queen," you bowed down your head, "I plead for you to take mercy. We need more men to fight in the North. We cannot defeat the White Walkers without your help—"

"And what? After the war, you all would seek the throne? When my men are already depleted, you'd take advantage over us? Do you think me of a fool, Lady Y/n?"

You met her gaze, and she was gritting her teeth, anger seething.

"I will never bend the knee," Cersei said with finality in her tone. You exhaled heavily. If you could just talk to her alone, you'd make her understand.

You were about to retort but she held her hand, stopping you. "We will deal with what it's left when you fight against the White Walkers."

Your eyes never wandered as you stared right through her, waiting if she'd also break like you did. However when Prince Doran entered the hall, his eyes on you, you looked away.

"Y/n Martell," Doran called, now standing beside the Queen. "Finally on your knees ready to commit to your crimes?"

"For what? For being your daughter?" you snide back.

Doran went silent for a moment before he walked slowly towards you, unsheathing his sword from his belt. "She was never born. You're no daughter of mine. You're an impostor."

"She is mine to execute," Cersei said, standing up from her seat.

Doran shook his head, facing the Lannister woman. "I chose to serve you, Your Grace. But when one of my people had betrayed me, they will only answer to me alone."

Then he looked back at you. "I've loved Rhaella with all my life but she also chose to betray me in the end. I married her even, convinced the Citadel to annul their marriage beforehand," the statement made everyone in the hall whisper, "yet when I told her to go to Dorne to finally be with me, she chose to stay with the Mad King."

"Are you not sure she was not referring to stay away from you?"

Doran glared at you before he raised his sword ready to hit, but a blade went through his chest, making him gulp in his own blood.

"Bring Y/n to the dungeons," the Queen announced when Doran's body hit the floor with a loud thud. Jamie stood behind Doran, holding a bloody sword. The guards dragged your frozen limb, your eyes still on the bloody figure of the man you thought who'd accept you as his own.

~~~

"The Queen has requested me to escort Y/n to her council room," Qyburn announced to the soldiers guarding you outside your cell in the dungeon not half an hour later from the incident.

When you and Qyburn headed through empty corridors of the castle, you attempted to untie the rope around your wrists. Qyburn helped you when you both have arrived at the door and you were still unsuccessful of untying it yourself.

Cersei was alone, staring out the windows with her hand on the railing, when you entered the room. Qyburn then closed the door, leaving you two.

The air had suddenly gone heavy. The Queen turned her head to finally look at you.

When it was only the two of you, there was an unspoken tension. You swallowed nervously, ready to speak yet Cersei's eyes on you didn't waver.

And as if on instinct, she moved forward towards you as you met her halfway, her arms welcoming you as you embraced her back so tightly. Breathing everything that was her, you tightened your hug around the woman, afraid that if you'd let her go, it would be the last time.

Cersei's hands fisted around your tunic, unbelievable strength coming from the Lannister woman. Then you pulled away as you cupped her face, pulling her close as you pressed your lips against hers.

And it was carnal. The hunger you had for each other was incomparable. Her hands held your head against hers, pulling you closer and closer.

She was devouring you like she had been deprived from sustenance. You pushed the woman against the wall as you returned the same force she showed, tongues dancing against each other, short breaths, gasps, sighs, and moans managed to come out from the little moments your lips would pull away from each other before reconnecting.

And then you could taste it. The bitter taste of Cersei's tears made you pull away, cupping her face gently as the woman only tried to chase after your mouth.

Leaning your forehead against hers, your thumbs wiped the offending liquid before meeting her lips in a slow soft kiss.

"I miss you," Cersei croaked, misery evident in her voice.

Giving her a weak smile, you nodded back. "There's not a day when I didn't think of you, Cersei. Even my dreams were filled with the thoughts of you."

"Why?"

You slowly pulled away as you met her cold hard gaze, her eyes carrying a look of disdain.

"Why did you not come back?"

"I couldn't —"

But then Cersei was already pushing you away as she walked towards her desk, licking her lips with the taste from you. "You didn't even send me a raven."

"Dany—"

Her mocking laughter stopped you. "Dany? You've barely even known her and you're already calling her Dany—"

"She's my sister," you answered, moving towards her.

"Well, I'm your . . . ," she stammered, hesitant. "I'm your . . ."

You could see the dilemma on her face and you pulled her closer. "You're still my Queen. You're my other half, the one I love."

Cersei bit her lower lip to stop herself from sobbing. Then she shook her head as she pushed you away again, turning to look at the window.

"It doesn't matter," she replied, exhaling a heavy breath. "Your love doesn't matter. Your feelings don't matter."

There was a pause of silence before you ended it.

"Then why are we here? Why did you allow me to come?"

The Lannister woman scoffed. "Not to help my enemies collaborate in my destruction. Jon Snow has now chosen to serve her. You have already submitted to her, and now you're making me too—"

"I want you to help us. To help the realm—"

"But eventually, you want everyone to bend the knee to her."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I think she will make the world a better place."

"You think she will not be like her father, the Mad King?"

"She has trusted advisors who would check her worst impulses instead of feeding them."

"Mm, my traitor of a brother. Fine," she walked away, "serve her. Choose her. What you said are true. I don't care about checking my worst impulses. I don't care about making the world a better place. Hang the world. That thing they dragged here, I know what it is, I know what it means. And when it came at me, I didn't think about the world. Not at all."

She stopped, her hand on her stomach. Then she looked at you and she still looked as lost as she was.

You heard Nymeros roar from a distance, growing impatient wondering where you were and why you had not come back.

"Ever wondered why your dragon did not attack me that day you left Dorne?" she asked. You stared at her in confusion. "It was because a part of you is already living inside of me."

And your eyes instinctively went to the hand on her stomach. You slowly approached her, your shaking hands caressing her lower stomach.

"It's . . ." You stopped, memories of Jaime's threats swimming in your head.

The sight made Cersei sad, her hand cupping your face. "I have not been with anyone other than you. I swear on my mother's deathbed. If the dragon had sensed it, then you should know it's true. It's yours, Y/n."

"It's mine?" you asked again, voice almost crying from happiness. The smile on your face hurt. She nodded back, pressing her forehead against yours. Your arms slithered around her, hers around your back, her head buried in your neck as you hugged each other.

"Then you know that I must leave," you said, making the woman lose her control, pull away and sob in front of you, shaking her head. "For you and our baby, Cersei—"

"No, Y/n, I want you here! With me! With us!"

"Death is upon us if we won't take action," you reasoned with her, hands cupping around her face. "I won't let that happen."

"You can't do anything to stop them," Cersei spat back. "They had even defeated one of her dragons—"

"We have three against one—"

"If the dragons can't stop them, if Dothraki and Unsullied and Northmen can't stop them, how will our armies make a difference?" she hissed, tears rolling down her face as you failed to stop her from crying. "This isn't about noble houses anymore, this is about the living and the dead! And I intend to stay amongst the living."

"Cersei—"

"Let the Stark boy and his new queen defend the North. We stay here where we've always been, where we belong."

"I made a promise to my sister—"

"Our child will rule Westeros. Doran admitted his marriage to your mother Rhaella. I made Qyburn consult with the Citadel Maesters and it's true what Doran said. Rhaella's marriage to the Mad King was annuled before she bore Daenerys. This makes you the rightful heir—"

"Our child will never be born if the dead come south," you said.

Shaking her head, Cersei stood her ground. "Let the monsters kill each other. And while they battle in the North, we take back the lands that belong to us, that your sister took."

"And then what?"

"And then we rule."

"When the fighting in the North is over, someone wins. You understand that, don't you? If the dead win, they march south and kill us all—"

"If the living win, and we've betrayed them, they march south and kill us all! They already want to kill us all. Most of them will die in the North."

You slowly pulled away, knowing there wasn't a single thing that would change the Lannister woman's mind. She was set to be selfish. But you'd do anything for her, for your child.

Cersei sighed as she made her way to her desk, leaning against the wood. You made your way to the door, planning your escape, knowing your visit was a failure. "Leave through the tunnels down the Kitchen's Keep. It will lead you straight to a trail beside the Blackwater Rush. The soldiers won't see you there."

You turned to look at the woman, who was already staring at you. Eyes spoke more what words couldn't. "I hate that you still choose to betray me."

"I love you," you said, "and I'm doing this for the both of you."

When you were about to close the door, you heard shuffling behind before the woman engulfed you in an embrace, hugging your back, her arms around your stomach.

"Cersei—"

"Come back to me alive," she whispered. "Promise me you'll come back alive and I will give that sister of yours thousands of my men to fight alongside you."

A smile crept into your face as you turned around and hugged the woman back. "I promise. You're my home, Cersei. You'll always be my home."

The clutch Cersei had on your back tightened as she buried her face deeper into your chest.

Author's note: I truly appreciate your continued support in reading my stories. You can help me create more stories by supporting my writing thru this link.

#cersei lannister x reader #cersei lannister #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #g!p reader #angst #daenerys targaryen

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absurdthirst · 1 year ago

Text

The Dornish Sun {Oberyn Martell x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 18.1k

Warnings: Step Uncle/Niece relationship, slight age gap, fingering, oral sex (female and male receiving), loss of virginity, pregnancy, childbirth, angst, infidelity, heartbreak, war, murder, rape, threesomes, mff relationship, poisoning, revenge

Comments: Of course a love story with Oberyn Martell would be tumultuous. Especially when the Seven Kingdoms is in chaos and the Baratheon rebellion breaks out.

A/N: You know that scene in HOTD where Rhaenyra leaves her birthing bed to take the baby to see the Queen? That completely inspired this.

🚨🚨DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT - this story contains canonical events including murder and rape (Elia Martell)🚨🚨

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Oberyn Martell MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Doran Martell married your mother and took you as his own daughter when you were eight years old. Carrying you away from the moldering estates you were born on and you had finished growing up in the castle at Sunspear and then later the Water Gardens when your father had grown too ill to stay in the steeply staircased fortress with his wheelchair.

The day you met Oberyn, his youngest sibling and only brother, you had fallen in love. His chiseled jaw, uncaring demeanor and his delight in allowing you to follow him around had created a painful crush for you, your cheeks heating to near flames when he had picked you up as a towering teenager of fourteen. He was your handsome red viper as you heard others call him and you had decided then and there that one day, you would marry Oberyn and become his princess.

When you were a woman grown, your crush had not waned. Growing even deeper and embedding in your heart to where no one but Oberyn would do, you argued with your papa that you should be aligned with the second born heir to House Martell, solidifying your place in the family and your own succession if Arianne did not wish to take over when your father passed. It did not help that you could tell Oberyn wanted you, his eyes following you as you went about your duties, the small smirk on his lips far from familial affection.

“Give me one reason, a good reason why I cannot marry for love?” You ask, your jaw set in stubborn determination as you look over at your father, the subject of husbands ones that you are tired of talking about. You do not want any of the men your father has suggested would make good husbands. “You married mother for love.”

Doran sighs, rubbing his cheek, “that was different. Your mother…Oberyn is your uncle.” Doran argues and you shake your head.

“We are not blood. He is my uncle in name only.” You counter. Your own lord father had passed when you were aged six, meaning your mother was eligible to marry Doran and thus you have younger half siblings.

“It will not look good to our enemies. Allowing my daughter to marry my brother…they will cry out in protest.” Doran argues and you scoff.

“Like the Lannister rumors aren’t worse?” You argue and Doran shakes his head.

“I do not care about the Lannisters. You are my daughter and you shall marry to help our alliances. A lord from the North, a Stark, has asked for your hand. You will be marrying him.”

“I do not want to leave Dorne.” You frown, unable to even imagine living in the cold north with those joyless Starks. Duty and winter coming are all they care about, you had not been impressed when you had met them two years ago when Ned Stark and another had traveled to Dorne to speak with your father. “I wish to feel the sun on my skin, the sand under my feet. I belong here.”

“You belong where I tell you that you belong. You will marry the Stark boy. You will allow our alliances to continue and you will do your duty. Seven hells, I saved you and your mother from a destitute life and you shall repay me for that.” Doran’s tone is final, no longer the loving father you’ve come to adore, no, he’s a prince. A leader.

You hiss in anger, pushing away from the table with a loud screech from your chair and rushing away. Heartbroken and angry that your father would condemn you to a fate that in your mind is worse than death. Running through the halls towards the gardens, your slippers are silent on the stone floors and your floating dress flaps behind you. You will not marry a Stark, you will not.

Oberyn is walking down the hallway when he sees you running. He reaches out to stop you, his hands on your shoulders. “My sun, why are you running? Surely my brother has not been so cruel as to make you run away from the beautiful gardens?” He coos, cupping your cheeks when you look at him, tears in your eyes.

“Father is sending me to Winterfell.” You close your eyes and the tears slip down your cheek. “I am to be wed to a Stark, to live my days in the snows of the North where the sun freezes.” You swallow and open your eyes again, looking into his dark orbs. “I - I do not want to wed into that house. I wish to stay here, with you - and father.”

The look in Oberyn's eyes is harsh, soft gaze turns to steel as he imagines you in Winterfell, belonging to another man. No, he won't allow it. Despite his brother's urges that he should find a bride, Oberyn has been unable to move on from you. You - you are his niece by name but not by blood yet the guilt of wanting you, of loving you, has never waned. However, to imagine you with another...it's more than Oberyn can take. "Come with me to my rooms, we shall drink some wine and discuss what can be done to change my brother's mind." He cups your cheek before taking your hand, eager to guide you to his chambers.

You follow him willingly and will follow him anywhere. His exile several years ago had been hard to deal with and you had often come to his chambers to sleep while he was gone, the servants finding you asleep in his bed. Now, you spend less time with him since you are a lady, your father wanting you to appear more mature for your station and years. Despite the lax nature of Dorne compared to the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, you are still under scrutiny.

“Oberyn.” He squeezes your hand and you fall silent, entering the large bedchamber and watching as he lets go of your hand to walk over to the pitcher of wine that is ever present on a table along with his favored berries.

Oberyn pours you a glass, handing you the goblet before repeating the action for himself. “Sit.” He orders, pointing to the loveseat and he brings you the wine and sits down beside you. “Tell me why you do not wish to marry a Stark.” He wants to hear you say what he suspects but he won’t show his hand just yet.

Looking away, you take a sip of your wine. It would be better if you were a man and could be expected to speak plainly about such things. Even here you were not supposed to acknowledge the ache you have for a man, not while still being innocent. “Ned Stark is boring.” You whisper. “Too self righteous and I-“ you pause, glancing at your handsome uncle by marriage before you look down at your cup. “I love another.”

Oberyn isn’t dumb. He’s seen the way you look at him and he knows he should say no, that it’s foolish for you to want him…but he can’t. Not when he feels the same. He was exiled, returned home to no one but you. You talked to him, you listened to his stories and he fell in love with his niece by marriage. “Marriage is not always about love, my sun. Marriages are for alliances. Political purposes. Do you wish to put your father at a disadvantage for love? Is this love too great to ignore in favor of your duty?” He asks, having asked himself that same question many times when Doran tried to marry him off but he is far too stubborn.

“What about my duty to my own heart?” You shake your head, dismayed because you thought of all people - Oberyn would understand. “I would not be a good wife to a man I could not endure. How would I lay in his bed, under his rutting body and bear his children?” You bite your lip, sighing and lifting your cup to your lips again. “My father has other alliances, other deals he can make. My heart shouldn’t be a bartering tool.”

Oberyn’s cock twitches at the thought of you beneath him and the jealousy he feels at the thought of someone else touching you, having you. It makes his jaw clench. “You would rather have passion? A husband who wants to make you shake with pleasure? A man who will suck on your nipples until you are dripping wet, his fingers finding your bundle of nerves, making you moan until he buries his tongue deep into your cunt, working your tight heat until you nearly drown him. A man who will slide his cock into you with the aim to make you cum, make you clench around his length until your thighs are shaking, instead of purely to get you pregnant. Is that what you want, my sun?” He leans closer, his breath washing over your face.

You whimper pitifully at the vivid imagery he creates with his words. Breath hitching and you inhale the sweet scent of wine and berries from his too close mouth. Your eyes flit down, tracing the angel’s kiss on his lower lip and your tongue slides out to wet your own, having wanted to trace his lips so often that you swear you have done it before. You can barely look back up into his own dark eyes and you swear you see lust in their depths. “Yes.” You whisper, nodding and pressing your thighs together to quell the ache there. “I want y- that.”

Oberyn leans even closer, reaching for the goblet so he can set them both down on the table nearby. You exhale shakily as he moves away from you, heart pounding and you are upset he doesn’t want you, tears stinging in your eyes. Oberyn takes a moment, knowing this will change everything but he can’t hold back anymore. He wants you. He turns back, seeing the way your eyes avoid his and he tuts, surging forward to press his lips to yours but before he says “I want you, my sun.”

Melting into him, you moan into the kiss, allowing him to take over completely. Clinging to the edges of his robe, your entire body lights up with the glorious knowledge that Oberyn wants you. “Have me.” You beg when he kisses along your jaw. “I am yours.” You know you shouldn’t, that you should pull away but you don’t think about that. Too caught up in your dream coming true to act rationally.

Oberyn should pull back, he definitely shouldn't go any further than this but fuck, he has been keeping away for so long, it feels physically painful to pull back from you in this moment. His tongue slides into your mouth and he reaches for you to pull you into his lap, his breath mingling with yours as he methodically tugs on the strings that keep your robes in place.

You aren’t completely innocent. You know the reputation Oberyn has started to cultivate. It was one of the reasons why he was exiled for that dark time when you were younger. He has had lovers and yet you do not hesitate when you feel the warm air from the open windows on your skin. Your nipples are hard from need and you let him unlace your dress and strip you down with an eagerness that can’t be contained as you run your hands along his broad shoulders and slip them under the light linen brocade to touch his heated skin.

Your touch ignites something in him and he grabs your thighs, lifting you up as he stands and he throws you onto his bed. Shrugging off his robe to expose his chest and upper arms before he strides over to hover over you. “You have no idea, my sun, how many times I imagined seeing these tits.” He groans, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth.

Gasping out his name, your eyes close in pleasure. Fingers digging into the silk sheets on his bed and twisting them in your hands while he sucks at your breast. The wet heat of his mouth is deliriously good and yet you want more, your dress pooled at your hips and you want to be bare underneath him. “P-please.” You beg, arching your back to offer yourself to him.

Oberyn isn’t in a rush, especially since he knows you are innocent. “Patience.” He tuts as he lifts up to switch to your other breast, leaning down to take it into his mouth, his dark eyes focusing on you while his hands caress your waist, one coming up to squeeze the breast he just abandoned.

You whimper, biting your lip and trying to just let yourself experience his touch. To not beg for more than he is wanting to give you right now. Your legs shift, thighs pressing together and you take advantage of him without his shirt. You had spent so much of your day drooling over his practices in the courtyards while shirtless and you touch his broad shoulders and back with a happy moan while he bites down on your nipple.

Oberyn tuts, reaching for your thighs to push them apart so he can press his body against yours, his cock hardening under his robes. He kisses your clavicle, up your neck until his body covers yours. “So eager, aren’t you? You want more?” He teases, pressing feather-like kisses to your jaw while his fingers slide under your gown, caressing your thigh.

“Yes. Please, more.” You whine, enjoying the way that his chest drags against your wet breasts. Your cunt clenches at the hardness that he is slowly grinding against you. “Oberyn.” You are in heaven right now, this is what you have always imagined and your nails drag down his back and you grab his ass in the leather breeches he is wearing, suddenly bolder than an innocent virgin should be. There is no fear, only want and need right now.

Oberyn chuckles at your eagerness, his fingers sliding higher until he finds your wet cunt, covered by the curls. “Mmm. So wet.” He groans softly, sliding his fingers through your folds a couple of times until he rubs your clit. “You’re so beautiful, my sun. Always - always imagined this.” He admits, knowing he’s tugged on his cock far too many times thinking about you recently. Or had another around him while he imagined it was you.

“I love you.” Your confession slips out unprompted, but you do. It has always been Oberyn since you have laid eyes on him. It will always be him. Your eyes close again and you let out a low moan while he rubs your clit as if he had done it a thousand times before. It was not like you hadn’t touched yourself before but it was so much more pleasurable with his fingers.

Your confession makes his heart thump in his chest and he knows you didn’t say it for him to say it back, you said it because it’s true. His fingers continue working your clit and he presses his lips back to yours, sliding his hand lower so he can push a finger into your tight cunt.

Gasping in delight and pleasure, your walls stretch around him, the thick finger curling up into your cunt. Grinding down on his hand wantonly, you know that this will be perfect. He is skilled and you love him, your walls clamping down around his finger while you turn your head to nip his jaw with your teeth like you have imagined doing a thousand times. You want to mark him, claim him as your own.

Oberyn groans softly at your nip, “my little sun has fire.” He chuckles, adding another finger as he pushes the digits inside of you. He wants you to feel only pleasure so he wants you dripping down his wrist. His thumb presses against your clit while his lips find yours again.

Whimpering against his neck, your arm tightens around him while he curls his fingers up. Taken beyond what you had ever been able to do yourself, you feel your legs start to shake while that tension builds up in your core. Hips meeting the thrust of his fingers on their own, your moans are uninhibited and you don’t care who would hear you beyond his doors.

Oberyn groans when your walls clamp down on his fingers when he presses his thumb against your clit a little harder, sending you over the edge. “So good, my sun. Can’t wait to be inside of you.” He murmurs, working you through it and he is determined to taste you too before he takes your innocence.

You cry out, back arching and colors burst behind your eyelids as pleasure courses through your body. “O-Oberyn!” You cling to him, shuddering and shaking underneath his touch. He keeps curling his fingers as he works you through it until you are panting out, completely wrung out.

Oberyn groans your name, loving the way you shake and the way you are already so spent. He chuckles, kissing your jaw and he shifts to kneel between your thighs, working on removing the rest of your gown so he can see all of you. “I want to see you, my sun. I want you bare. Mind, body, and soul.”

Lifting your hips, you have no shame as Oberyn strips you down to your skin. Laying in his bed as the evening rays of light shine through the slates covering his windows, you feel like this is where you are supposed to be. Watching as he rocks back onto his knees and looks down at your nude, virginal body. “I am yours.” You whisper, meaning every word.

Oberyn offers you a soft smile, nodding in understanding, and he caresses your calf before he shifts off of the bed to push his breeches down, releasing his aching cock from its confines. He desperately wants to slide into you but he can’t, he wants to taste you first.

You had not expected his mouth. When you had seen his cock, your leg had spread in anticipation of him climbing between them. Of feeling him deep inside you. Instead you gasp when his shoulders push your legs wider, his chuckle filthy when he winks at you and lowers his mouth to your dripping cunt to lick a long stripe through your folds. “Gods!” You cry out, head tilting back and fingers tangling into the silk sheets again.

Oberyn’s tongue is eager, sliding deeper inside of you and his nose presses against your clit. His fingers dig into your thighs, pushing them back towards your stomach so his tongue can slide deeper into your cunt. “You taste so good.” He smacks his lips as he pulls back for a moment before he dives back in.

If his fingers were magical, his tongue is even more so. Curling deep inside you to make you squirm before he is pulling out and flicking it against your clit, pulling another gasp out of you. Lewdly learning your body in a way that you had heard of but never imagined would be as good as it is. Quickly feeling your stomach clenching as he lashes your clit again and again with his tongue and pushing you towards another orgasm.

Your thighs start to shake and press against his head and he knows you are close. He wants you to cum so he continues lashing your clit, sucking and licking until his jaw hurts and when you cry out, he buries his tongue into your walls, wanting to feel them flutter.

It was even better than your first orgasm. The rush of heat flooding your cunt makes him moan and you whimper at the way that he is eager to taste all of you, his tongue dipping back inside you. Your thighs try to close around his head but they can’t at his mercy until you are crying out again and shoving weakly at his shoulder to move him away.

Oberyn doesn’t move away right away, he smacks his lips, kissing your clit and chuckling at the way you whine so he backs off, kneeling between your legs and wrapping his fingers around his aching cock. “My sun, are you certain that this is what you want?” He asks, wanting to make sure you want him to take your innocence.

“I have loved you since I was a child, Oberyn.” Your eyes greedily stare at him, drinking in how perfect he looks hard and wanting you. You are not scared of his length or size, knowing that he was going to fit perfectly inside you as he slowly strokes himself. “I am sure that I want nothing more than for you to take my innocence.”

Oberyn nods, certain that he wants you, he has wanted you since your eight and ten name day, knowing you were a woman had shone a new light on you and he has wanted you ever since. “Tell me if it hurts. It will hurt to begin with but we will go slow.” He promises, shifting closer until he can notch his cock at your entrance, slowly pushing into you.

Your soft cry is mixed with tears as he fills you, but they are ones of joy. Lashes fluttering as you feel the weight of him starting to settle over your body and his cock butting up against the thin barrier of your innocence. His lips press against yours before he pushes through the thin barrier of your innocence and hums at the way your body locks up around him.

Oberyn leans closer to kiss away your tears, his heart pounding in his chest as he looks at your beautiful face. “Are you okay, my sun?” He asks, not moving while you adjust to his cock inside of you. You’re so hot, so tight, so wet, it’s hard to maintain control but he will.

“Perfect.” It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open but you want to see him. Reaching up and caressing his sharp cheek while he holds still over you. Wanting to commit this to memory since it is the perfect moment. “Move, my prince.” You beg him softly. “I want to feel every inch of you.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He starts to move, his dark eyes focused on you in case there’s any pain but all he sees is love in your eyes. It makes his heart twist. He shifts, resting his weight on his elbows so he can bury his face in your neck, kissing along it and breathing you in.

Every push of his hips makes you moan, your arms winding around his neck and your legs coming up to rest on his hips. He feels amazing and you don’t have any of the discomfort that you had secretly worried about with a husband. Oberyn is perfect and the love you have makes it even better. “Oh Gods, Obeyrn.” You whimper. “It’s so- so good.”

Your whimper spurs him on to make you cum. His arms sliding under you to pull you closer and his hips rock into you, hitting the back of your thighs. “So beautiful. So perfect.” His voice is raspy and he is desperate for you to cum for him one more time.

It is everything that you want, loving how he is starting to move steadily. Closing your eyes and moaning as he fills you again and again with the heavy stroke of his cock. Pushing you towards exquisite pleasure every time he touches deep inside you. “Oberyn.” You whimper softly.

“That’s it, my love. Cum for me. Please. Cum for me.” He grunts, pushing into you and dropping his hips so the coarse hair at the base of his cock brushes against your clit. You cry out and he knows he got the right angle. “Cum for me. Soak my cock, my sun.” He orders, kissing your neck as his breath is heavy in your ear.

When you go over the edge, your cry fills his ear. Giving into his order and your body shakes underneath him while you go exactly what he orders you to do. Soaking his cock in a hot rush of cum that sounds loud when he pushes through the resistance of your fluttering walls.

“Fuck.” Oberyn curses at how you soak him, gripping his cock in a vice but he can’t stop himself. He should pull out but the thought of filling you up, putting his seed inside of you and potentially his child has him falling over the edge within a half dozen thrusts. “Fuck!” He growls, pushing his cock deep as he cums, groaning your name while he paints your walls.

You whimper in delight at the warmth of his seed inside you. You know it is risky but you don’t care, moaning softly and stroking his back lightly while he continues to rock his hips as he rides out his high. Relaxing back into the bed when he is done and you can’t help but give a slight giggle, completely worn out by your new lover. “Wow.”

Oberyn chuckles at your reaction, glad you enjoyed it. He certainly did. “I love you, my sun.” He murmurs, lifting his head to look into your eyes. It’s true, he adores you, always has, and he has loved you since you blossomed into a woman. He kisses you, slow and deeply, his tongue sliding against yours.

You lean into the kiss, enjoying the intimacy of it while he licks into your mouth. Your fingers tangle into the hair at the nap of his neck and you sigh happily, knowing that you have gotten your wish and you will cherish it forever. When he pulls back you smile up at him. “Thank you, Oberyn. I love you.”

Oberyn caresses your cheek. “Let’s move you over and you can get some rest. You must be exhausted, my love.” He brushes his thumb over your cheekbone, “I love you too. Sleep. When you awaken, we will feast on fruits and cheese, I��ll send for some more wine.” He tells you, brushing your hair back.

Having sex for the first time is surprisingly exhausting. Turning over and curling up against the pillow that Oberyn sleeps on has your eyes fluttering closed within minutes. It doesn’t hurt that he is stroking your hair and shoulder, relaxing you more than you thought it would as you drift off to sleep with a smile on your face.

Oberyn caresses you until you are asleep, then he carefully, so carefully, tugs on the sheet beneath you, easing it out from under you before he redresses. Striding down the hall, he has the sheet folded up when he enters his brother’s chambers. “Oberyn? What are you doing here?” Doran asks, a weary smile on his face for his younger brother. He loves him but he is exhausting.

“Let me marry her.” He says, chin pointed in defiance as he awaits his brother’s response.

Doran sighs and runs his hand down his face, looking over to the door as if he expects you to peek around the corner like you had when you were a child. Obviously you had run to Oberyn but he was surprised that his younger brother was entertaining your notion of love. “She will wed Ned Stark.” He tells his brother. “You will choose a wife now? After all this time?” Oberyn had always scoffed at the idea of marriage, unless he was ordered to by his brother and Doran loved him enough that he hadn’t had the heart.

Oberyn nods his head, “I will choose a wife. I choose her.” He declares.

Doran sighs, “you are going to send me to an early grave, dear brother. She is promised to Ned Stark.”

Oberyn chuckles, shaking his head. “A man as noble as Ned Stark would surely want his lady wife to be pure. To not provide him with a Dornish man’s bastard.”

Doran narrows his eyes, growing suspicious. “Oberyn…what did you do?” He hisses and Oberyn takes the sheet from behind his back, opening it to display the blood on the sheets.

“Your darling daughter’s innocence…displayed on my sheets.”

“Gods be cursed!” There is a book in Doran’s lap that is quickly hurled at Oberyn, who merely ducks it. If his mobility has not seriously deteriorated over the last year, he would challenge the boy who had been the baby of the family. “You ruined her! For what? Your pride? Another conquest? You could have all the whores in the Seven Kingdom and you chose to make my daughter - your niece - your next whore?” Doran shouts, apoplectic with rage. Oberyn is not a liar, if he said he took your innocence, then that is what is staining his sheet. “Did you fill her?”

Oberyn nods, “I did. You do not wish for Ned Stark to be saddled with my bastard, do you? It will not shine well on Dorne. Dear brother, she loves me. She wants to be mine.”

Doran shakes his head, “she doesn’t know what she wants! She is a child!” Doran growls.

“She is a woman. You have to accept that. She knows her own mind, her own heart. She loves me. I - I love her. Marry her to me. No one need know of her predicament. We can protect her. A royal wedding will please the people. Brother, she is ruined if you send her north. We are ruined.”

Doran shakes his head, dismayed and yet there is truth to his words. “You will hurt her.” He predicts sadly, sighing. “Your selfishness has ruined my daughter and our chance to align with the Starks.” He turns his head and stares out the window for a moment before his shoulders slump in defeat. What’s done is done. “You will marry her before your bastard is showing in her belly.” He decides finally in a tired voice.

****

“You may now kiss your bride.” The priest tells Oberyn who grins, surging forward to kiss you while you are covered by the Martell cloak. His fingers caress your cheeks and you smile against his lips, unable to believe he is your husband. The crowd erupts in applause, the wedding pulled together quickly to account for the babe in your belly. One time was all it took to get you pregnant…perhaps. Oberyn has indulged in his betrothed many times before today. Still, you are with child. His child. So it was best to have a swift wedding. “I love you.” He murmurs when he pulls back.

“I love you, husband.” You are beaming with pride as the two of you turn to face the people gathered. Your father’s eyes are less than pleased but he plasters a smile on his face for the sake of the occasion. “Now we have nothing to worry about.” You murmur softly, aware that the raven had been sent to Winterfell concerning your engagement to Oberyn. Rumor had it that Ned Stark had already secured another bride. Catelyn Tully would be a good match for him.

Oberyn grins, pleased at his new bride, and he guides you through the crowd to the private room reserved for you both during the celebrations. “My sun, you look gorgeous. Edible. A gift from the gods.” He leans forward to press his lips to yours, pushing the cloak off of your shoulders so he can grab your ass through your beautiful sun embroidered gown.

“Husband.” You moan, delighted at being able to use that title with Oberyn now. Since that night he had taken you to bed, you’ve discovered how much you enjoy touching him, fucking him. Learning how he likes to have his cock sucked and how he delights in having you act like the sexual creature you are and not hide your lust for him. “I need you inside me.” You whimper, reaching between you to cup his hardening cock beneath his robe. “Since there is no bedding ceremony, I want to dance with you dripping your seed.”

Oberyn hisses in delight at your words. So naughty and he knows he will want to lick it out of you later. Guiding you back towards the wall, he presses you against it and slides his hand under your gown, fingers quickly finding your clit. “Did getting married make you this wet, my sun? Did it turn you on becoming my wife?” He teases and kisses along your neck.

“Yes.” You pant, closing your eyes and moaning as he slides two fingers inside your wet cunt. “I am yours.” Those words were never more true than right now, reaching into his breeches and wrapping your fingers around to him slowly start pumping him just like he taught you. “Tonight- after other are asleep, I want to suck your cock while you are seated in the grand hall.” The wedding had been performed at Sunspear, the seat of power and Oberyn often acted in your father’s stead. You want to suck his cock while he sits on the Lord’s cushion and pleasure him.

“Naughty girl.” He teases and his cock twitches in your grip, “wanting to desecrate your father’s throne because you are so hungry for cock. I love it. I love you.” Oberyn growls, leaning closer to press his lips against yours. “Wanting to please your husband. It’s beautiful. I want to please you too but right now, I want to fuck you.” He withdraws his fingers, pulling your hand from his breeches and he pulls his cock out. Pressing you up against the wall even more, he gathers your gown and lifts your leg to notch on his hip. “Gonna make my bride cum.” He promises, pushing his cock into you with a low groan.”

Your head bumps back against the wall and you moan out his name. Your condition makes you eager and sensitive. “Oh fuck, Oberyn.” You whimper, looping your arms around his neck and grinding your pelvis down as he starts to move. “Fuck your wife,” you beg, loving how that sounds. “Please make me scream your name for all the guests to hear.”

The smirk on Oberyn’s face is wicked as he attempts to follow through on that challenge. “Yeah? My beautiful bride wants to cum so hard, she lets everyone out there know she’s no longer innocent? They will know tonight you’ve experienced a cock buried deep inside of you. They will know that I’ve spilled inside of you. Our babe shall be born early according to them but we will always know that my naughty wife wanted my cock before it was deemed appropriate.” He chuckles, kissing along your neck as his hips slam against yours.

You cry out, loving how wickedly he looks at things. It’s perfect, he’s perfect. Clinging to him while he drives into you over and over again. His mouth devours yours before he kisses along your throat and nips to make you gasp and clench around him. You know about the bastards he has, both girls. You can’t help but know about them since they live here. You love them as if they were your own. “Your next babe. Maybe a son.” You whimper when his cock pushes up against that sweet little spot inside you.

“My beautiful wife is going to provide me an heir? Fulfill her duty?” He hums. You know he hates the societal standards imposed but he is playful and you know he doesn’t care about a boy or a girl. He wants a healthy child. His fingers dig into your thigh, “a beautiful son. My beautiful wife gives me a son.” He muses with panting breaths. “I want my wife to cum. Squeal so loud they all know I am inside of you.”

It’s not hard to do, Oberyn is an amazing lover and you know you are lucky to have a man be concerned with your pleasure. “Obe-Oberyn!” You cry out as he cock continues to hammer against that spot over and over again until your toes are curling and you are squealing just like he ordered you to, your cum soaking his length and dripping down his thighs.

You squeezing his cunt has him groaning, kissing along your neck, and he thrusts a few more times before he buries his cock deep. Knowing you are his, his wife, the mother of his third child, has him cumming quickly. “Fuck.” He growls, painting your walls with his seed as he presses you further into the wall.

A few moments and lazy kisses later, Oberyn is pulling back, your leg lowering to the floor and your dress falling back into place. “Always so good.” You pant quietly, giving a small giggle of happiness as you catch sight of the beautiful gold ring he had put on your finger. The chain around your neck carries the symbol of the house Martell and declares you a princess. Which you had already been before, but now it is as a wife rather than an adoptive daughter.

****

“Push, princess!” The maester orders while your hand maids wipe your sweaty brow. The baby is coming, one more push and your baby is born. Yet Oberyn is nowhere to be found. No one has been able to alert him of the birth and the labors were quick despite this being your first. You scream as you bear down, feeling like you will pass out from the pressure and the pain but a cry fills the room and you chuckle in relief. The maester quickly inspects the babe. “You have a boy, princess.”

The women set about to help you deliver the afterbirth, the maester tying off the baby’s umbilical cord and cutting it before wrapping him in a soft cloth to hand him to you. “Is there any word of my husband?” You demand, looking down and immediately falling in love with his smooshed face and crown of dark hair.

“No, my princess.” The young servant who will look after the babe as a wet nurse if you wish it, shakes her head, looking down. “None knows where he is.”

You grunt, whimpering when the afterbirth passes and the women are still cleaning you as you start to move towards the edge of your birthing bed. “Dress me.” You demand, completely naked for the birth. “I will find him.”

“Princess. I- I wouldn’t recommend - you need to rest. Spend time with your baby.” Your hand maid tells you and you shake your head.

“I have performed my duty. I wish to show my prince.” You grunt defiantly and the handmaids reluctantly dress you, trying to clean off the blood as you stand on shaking legs.

“Princess. I do not recommend-” The maester tells you but you ignore him, sliding on your shoes as you shuffle down the hall.

It hurts, your stomach still cramping with the birth and every step feels like agony, your cunt swollen and sore from pushing out the Prince’s son. Blood runs down your legs but you ignore it. Your baby is in your arms and he squeaks and settles back down when you open your loose gown and offer him your breast. Having to stop in the middle of the hall to let him root around hungrily before he latches on. Your old rooms is your destination, having an idea that he might be there since you had been in the chamber you shared with your husband.

Oberyn groans as the man takes his cock into his mouth, the woman kissing along his chest and playfully nipping on his nipple. You’ve been distant lately, not wanting him due to your discomfort of carrying the baby inside of you and he has respected that, seeking his pleasure elsewhere. He’s been in this room for gods know how long, enjoying the man and woman he paid for. You are due any day so he is seeking his pleasures before he is a father for the third time. “Fuck.” Oberyn groans, head tilting back as the man takes him down his throat and the door is swung open.

Fury boils in your eyes when you see the man and woman naked in the bed with your husband. The man quickly pulls off Oberyn’s hard cock with a wet pop and the woman gasps at your appearance. Angry that he has not spoken to you about pleasure and needs, that he just decided to do this so selfishly, your heart breaks when you realize your husband missed the birth of his son, his heir, because of his cock.

You straighten your spine, bringing you to your full height and shoot all three of them a withering glare. “My su-“ You cut Oberyn off.

“You have a son, my Prince.” You manage with as much grace as you can possibly manage, sweat still rolling down your cheeks from where you left your birthing bed. “Congratulations.” With your announcement made, you turn to start shuffling back to the rooms you have been living in with your husband.

Oberyn’s eyes widen and he scrambles to get off of the bed, reaching for his robes to dress and the man and woman watch him in confusion. “Coins are on the side.” He points at the chest of drawers and rushes down the hall, catching up with you when you are still stumbling down the hallway. “You shouldn’t be walking. My sun, you should be resting in bed.” He tuts, looking down at the babe who is suckling at your breast.

“I should be resting in bed, but I had to track my husband down.” You hiss, furious with Oberyn and he reaches for you. You jerk your arm away from him, unwilling to let him touch you with the stink of sex on him. “The servants could not find you when my time had come but they should have just followed the smell of whores.”

“You- you said you were fine with my extramarital activities.” He huffs, walking alongside you.

“Yes but not when our son was being born.” You hiss and he shakes his head.

“No one came to find me. I would have been there, my love, you know I would have. I didn’t - I didn’t know.” He argues and you shake your head.

“No one could find you because you were in the whorehouses until you brought them back here. I know you know how to not be found. You should’ve checked in first.” You argue, hissing at the way your body aches.

“Please, forgive me. I - we have a son.” He coos, looking at the baby.

“I have a son.” You are angry, disappointed and for the first time since you have been married, tears slide down your cheeks. “Go back to your pleasure, Oberyn.” You tell him hollowly. “There is none to be found here.”

Oberyn stops walking, watching as you waddle back to your chambers, and his heart breaks. He knows you need to have time to process this and he will give it to you. He knows you need to be alone and despite his desire to see his son, he walks back to your old room, deciding to write to Doran and announce the birth of his son and heir.

****

“Daughter, you need to give yourself time-“

You shake your head, your baby sleeping in your arms as you look down at the sleeping child. It has been a week since you have given birth and you have not seen Oberyn once in that time. “I have decided.” You murmur quietly, unwilling to see the disapproval in your father’s eyes. “I wish to go be with Elia. I- I need time away.” You blink back tears and shake your head. “You were right, father. He has broken my heart and I - I need to leave. Please, please send me to my aunt.” She was technically your sister in law as well, but you are begging him as his daughter and not as Oberyn’s wife.

Doran sighs, hating to see the hurt in your eyes and he wishes he could take it away but you created this. He knew his brother would break you eventually, he’d warned you, and you paid him no mind. “Very well. Go. I shall arrange for your transport. Do you wish to bid your husband goodbye before you leave?” Doran asks, wanting you to remain here in Dorne and not allow you in the grasp of the Lannisters.

You shake your head, having already packed your trunks before you ever left Sunspear because you would have hired a ship yourself if your father had not approved. “There is no need.” You straighten your spine despite your heartbreak and try to give your father an unconcerned smile. “No doubt Oberyn has not missed my presence and will have no need for drawn out goodbyes.” You feel slightly guilty for not allowing Oberyn to be around your son, but he had chosen to spend time with others rather than you, and your son was too small to be apart from you.

****

Oberyn growls as he opens another door, unable to find you or his son. When an unsuspecting servant walks past, Oberyn grabs them. “Where the fuck are my wife and son?” He demands to know and the servant shakes at the fury in his eyes.

“They - they are gone, my prince.” He answers and Oberyn narrows his eyes.

“Where the fuck have they gone?” He demands to know.

“To - to King's Landing.” He answers and Oberyn slings him across the hall, making his way to Doran’s quarters.

“You let my wife and son go into that fucking lion’s den?” He growls as he enters, no announcement other than the door slamming against the wall.

Doran looks up from the book he has been reading and sighs as he closes it. “I allowed my daughter, the princess, to go and assist her aunt with her children.” He tells his brother flatly. “To let her heal from the heartbreak of your actions.” He frowns in disapproval, knowing that Oberyn had left you to give birth alone and he was not happy with his younger brother.

“Heartbreak? She hasn’t - she hasn’t allowed me to properly meet my son. She has locked me out because I did what she knew I did. It’s not fair, brother, and now you have let her run away and to be in that cesspool with the Lannisters. It’s bad enough that you let Elia go there. Now I have to worry about my wife and son. Fuck.” Oberyn slams his fist against the wall, furious at himself for allowing this to happen, at Doran for allowing this to happen.

“Your wife suffered her birthing pains alone while you were fucking!” Doran roars, the book in his hand aimed at his brother’s head as he launches it at him. “What if she had died? Alone and calling for you? By all the gods old and new, you should think of something other than your cock!” Doran shakes his head, angry that the bastard had ducked the book. “You will not follow her.” He orders the headstrong brother. “Elia will soothe her heart and send her back when she is ready to forgive the hurt you have done.”

Oberyn glares at Doran, knowing that the order will be enforced if he tries to leave plus he knows you need time. He will write you a letter and have it sent to King's Landing, hoping you will soften and return home sooner rather than later. He hates not having you here where he knows you are safe. He loves you, he truly does, and he knows he has needs, you know this, but he shouldn't have let them interfere with his duty to you. With a sigh, Oberyn nods and makes his way back to his quarters to write his letter.

****

Tears burn your eyes and your throat is thick with emotion, eyes skimming across the ornate scrawl that Oberyn produces when he puts quill to paper. “My sun, my heart is heavy without you in Dorne, the sun in the sky does not shy as brightly as it does with your presence by my side.” You close your eyes and shake your head slightly, not wishing to say something out of bitterness as Elia rocks your son in her arms, listening as you read your husband’s letter aloud. “I was foolish, irresponsibly so and I regret that it caused you the pain and heartache you suffer. I wish to make amends. To have your smile brighten the halls of Sunspear and your laughter to ring out through the Water Gardens again.” You sigh, and lift the paper back up with a trembling hand. “Come home, my Princess. You told me that you wished to be in Dorne and she misses you. I miss you, my love.” You look over at Elia in exasperation. “Am I wrong? Should I have stayed?” You ask, knowing that she and Oberyn had been the closest out of all of them and needing her guidance. She has been a Godsend since your arrival in King’s Landing, even with the current turmoil that echoes in the palace halls.

Elia sighs, looking down at your son who has the same features as his father. “You did what you thought was right for you at the time. If I am honest, I think you should return home. You are needed there and I am certain you wish for this one to be raised in Dorne and not this…this hell.” Elia has confided that she loathes the Red Keep. It’s like a prison and she longs for the warmth of the Dornish sun. “You need to go home, my darling, but selfishly? I wish for you to stay. I barely speak to anyone here. My husband is away…the king loses more of himself every day and I long to keep our children safe…even from him. I wish you could stay but my brother needs you.” Elia smiles sadly.

“Come with me.” You reach out and take her hand, squeezing gently. “Dorne will love to have their princess back for a visit. It will do you good to visit with your brothers.”

Elia shakes her head, “I have a duty to the people as their future queen. I cannot abandon them now. My darling, stay until the end of the week and then I shall arrange travel home for you. Besides, I still have to spoil my nephew rotten.” Elia grins, cooing down at the baby in her arms. “Write to Oberyn. Tell him you shall return home soon and give him hope. Absence makes the heart grow fonder so I am certain I shall have another nephew or niece to dote on by the time I visit Dorne once more.”

****

Screams awaken you in the middle of the night, jolting you from your sleep as you immediately reach for your son in his cradle. The sounds of clashing steel and fighting can be heard in the Bailey below your window and you panicked, throwing on your robe and bundling your son against your chest as you rush out the doors of your chamber to seek Elia. The news of the Baretheon rebellion has grown steadily dire and your ship is set to sail when the sun rises.

Servants scramble in the halls, pushing past you in their haste to flee the danger. Dread pools in your belly, hearing the screams grow louder as you race towards the chambers. They are here, the rebellion has reached the keep and they are coming for all who are in line for the iron throne.

Elia screams, her children clinging to her robes when you come into her chambers. “It’s only me. What’s happening?” You ask, terrified and the baby begins to cry in your arms. “Shhhh.” You coo, rocking him.

“It’s the rebellion. They have breached the Red Keep. My - my - the King will be killed. I have to protect the children. Get into the armoire. With the children.” She orders you and her children.

“Mama!” Her daughter cries but Elia cups her cheeks once you are all inside of the closet.

“It will be alright, my love. Let’s be quiet. We need to be quiet.” She tells her children, looking over at you now that you have gotten your son to settle against your breast. Your heart pounds and you pray to the gods that you will be spared, that Elia and her children will be spared.

You know the chances of Elia and the children being spared if they kill the king are low, that you need to flee in the chaos. “Elia, we need to run. We can make it to the ship. Have them sail now.” You plead with her, knowing it will kill Oberyn and your father if something happens to their beloved sister or her children. “There is a passage.” You know of the secret tunnels. “Let us leave now!”

“I cannot. They will find us in the halls. We are safer here. My darlings, it will be okay. Just let me - let me step out if anyone should come. I may be able to reason with-” The doors are slammed open to her chambers and you squeal, shaking as you wonder who has come in. Foe or friend. The armoire doors are swung open after several moments and you shriek when a mountain of a man grabs Elia by her arm, dragging her out of the wardrobe.

“Leave her alone!” You shout as you scramble out of the wardrobe and stand in front of Elia’s kids where they are huddled in the corner, clutching your son to your chest. “She is the crowned princess!” You are terrified, certain that all of you are going to die right here in these rooms. “Leave now!” You shout. “GUARDS!”

The Mountain shuts the doors and chuckles darkly, withdrawing his sword and you back your aunt and the children towards the window. “Get the fuck out of my way.” He growls, grabbing your arm and throwing you across the room. You grunt, curling your arms around your son, scared that he’s hurt and during that moment to assure yourself that your son is okay, the Mountain grabs Elia. You place your son in the armoire, safe as you rush back towards Elia, trying to protect her but the Mountain flings you across the room once more. “Please! Spare her! They haven’t done anything!” You plead and Elia screams for the guards once more.

You turn from your crumpled position on the ground to watch as Rhaenys, precious little Rhaenys, rushes towards the giant in armor, screaming and beating on his side. Too young to cause any harm to the man, but that doesn’t stop him from grabbing the little girl and lifting the toddler up high before flinging her against the wall. Making Elia scream and clutch Aegon to her chest. “No!” You scream, crawling towards the crumpled body of your niece, unmoving on the stone floor with her neck twisted at an off angle.

Elia cries out in anguish when you try to get Rhaenys to wake up but she’s gone, eyes open and glassy. The young boy - the future king - is clinging to Elia but the mountain grabs him, lifting him up by the neck and with a squeeze of his giant hand, he breaks the boy’s neck, making Elia scream in agony when the man flings the boy down beside his sister. You are shrieking, tears streaming down your cheeks as you look at the children and that’s when horror truly makes your blood run cold.

The Mountain grabs Elia and what happens next makes you vomit. He violates her, raping her while he chokes her, strangling her until she is still and you are frozen. When he is done, he grabs his sword and you retch in horror when he slices her open, her glassy eyes turned towards you. You are shaking, certain that you are next when the mountain wipes his sword on the bed sheets. “I- please. Please.” You choke, begging for your own life and the Mountain walks right past you.

“Return to Dorne, tell those fuckers what happened here. The Lannisters send their regards.”

The Red Keep has descended into complete chaos, screaming and steel clanging all around you. You bundle your son to your chest, hurrying as fast as you can. Bare feet slipping on the bloodied steps of the palace until you finally manage to escape from one of the side doors. Rushing towards the waterfront, towards the boat Elia had arranged for you to return to your husband. Your hands are bloody, the necklace she has been wearing in your hand and you are blinded by the tears as you sob in relief, seeing the swaying masts of the ship that will bear you back to Dorne.

****

The horse’s hooves attract the attention of the palace, the servants immediately approaching the messenger who swings off of his horse and rushes into the palace. When the doors open, Doran and Oberyn look up, both of them in the middle of discussing the harvest festival celebrations when the messenger approaches and hands the letter to Doran.

Oberyn impatiently awaits his brother’s rendition of the letter but the prince pales. “Doran? What is it?” Oberyn frowns and Doran hands him the letter with a shaky hand. Oberyn frowns, taking the letter and his body goes cold when he reads the news that his sister, niece and nephew have been murdered by order of the Lannisters. Robert Baratheon is now king. “She - she’s - oh gods.” Oberyn wants to be sick and his blood boils at the murder of his family. “What about my wife? And my son? Did - there’s no news of them. Is she - is he -? Doran.” He stumbles as he stands up, “I need - I need to go to King's Landing. I need to find them.”

Doran feels sick, his heart breaking at the loss of his sister and her two babies. He knows their deaths had to have been cruel. Otherwise, why would they have put a two year old and one year old to death? “No.”

Oberyn’s head snaps towards Doran and he grits his teeth furiously. “No?” He hisses. “My sister - her children are dead! My wife and son are there.”

Doran shakes his head, knowing that if his brother goes to King’s Landing, he will start another war. “We will wait until there is more news.” He tells his brother. “We will have our maester send a raven to the citadel.”

“I cannot. I will not fucking sit here while my sun…she’s your daughter. Are you not worried? I cannot - I cannot just fucking sit here. If the Lannisters wish for war, I shall single handedly bring it to them. They will pay!” Oberyn roars, anger masking his pain.

“Now is the time for cooler heads.” Oberyn’s temperament has always been one to rush into battle when he is feeling provoked but now is not the time. “We must not make a mistake. For Dorne. I love my daughter and wish she were here safe and sound, but she is not.” He does not mention that it is because of Oberyn that you are not where you belong. “Elia’s body along with the children are being shipped back to Dorne.” He swallows thickly. “Now is the time we mourn.”

“You don’t want revenge? They killed Elia. Her children. We should be sending the fucking Dornish army to their door now. The Lannisters have concocted this scheme. We must retaliate. Now. Brother, please. Do not let them get away with it.” Oberyn pleads, needing the anger to distract him from the pain of not knowing your status.

“We would be sending our army to their deaths without proof.” Doran rationalizes. “I am angry. I am sad.” He swallows harshly and shakes his head. “Still, it is my duty to do what is best for Dorne, not just the Martells.”

“Fuck your duty. Fuck Dorne. This is our family and you, as usual, don’t do anything to avenge us. Doran, you - you disappoint me once again. I shall have my own revenge.” Oberyn promises and growls as he makes his way through the halls, staff avoiding him as he shoves open the doors to your chambers, burying his face in your pillow as he allows himself to cry, to mourn, and to pray that you and his son are safe.

****

“My Princess, we will be docking at Sunspear within the hour.” The nervous deck hand waits for you to turn your head, to give some clue that you have heard him, but you just stare at the city as it grows closer every second that ticks by.

It has been a long week. One that you can recall every second of and none at all. A shadow of yourself as you cling to your son and try to banish the images of Elia and her children’s deaths from your mind. Still wearing your nightgown that you had been wearing when you fled the Red Keep, no women’s clothes on board and what little clothing they could spare was used for your son’s nappies.

The spires of the palace loom in the distance and you wonder if Oberyn will blame you for not saving Elia, or maybe he will blame you for not dying with her.

When the horn sounds that the boat is docking with Elia and the children’s remains, Oberyn makes his way to the dock, wanting to see the caskets and he has been pulling his hair out for a week, trying to find word of your status. Whether you were alive or dead. He has to know. When he sees you stumble down the ramp of the boat, his eyes widen. “My sun!” He shouts, running towards you and he wraps you in his arms, the baby between you as he holds you close.

“Oberyn.” You gasp when you feel his arms around you, wanting to close your eyes and melt into his safe embrace but you cannot. “She’s dead, Oberyn. Elia- the kids, they are dead!” You sob, breaking down for the first time since that horrible night. “I- I could not stop him!”

“It’s okay, my love. It’s okay. You’re safe. You are both safe.” He feels relieved despite the fact that his sister is dead. He has you. He hasn’t lost you. “You’re alive.” He chokes, tears stinging in his eyes and he pulls back so he can cup your cheeks, looking into your eyes. “It’s okay. You couldn’t - there’s nothing you could do. It’s okay. You’re home.”

“I was- the baby- he lifted her and threw her against the wall-“ you babble in a near panic. “She- oh gods Oberyn, her neck- she was gone and then the sweet little one- he-“ your voice cracks. “They were gone and then he raped her! He raped her on the bodies of her children!” You shriek. “I couldn’t stop him! I couldn’t- he- he raped her and then he killed her like she was nothing!”

“Ssshhh.” Oberyn coos, bringing you into his chest, “it’s not your fault. You couldn’t do anything, my love. Let’s calm down and let me take you inside the palace. You need to be in your home.” He murmurs, kissing your hair and he leans back to look down at the baby. “Gods. He has grown.” Oberyn leans down to kiss his son’s head. Fury beats in his chest, but that will not help you heal right now, looking like you are about to expire on your feet.

You don’t understand why he is not upset, why he is not furious with you. Your sobs give way to hiccups and you let Oberyn lead you away from the ship, the caskets containing the bodies of your family slowly being raised up from the hold to be transported to the castle. You step onto the hot sands of Dorne with your bare feet and you sigh softly, happy to feel it after what has happened.

Oberyn rubs your back as he guides you back into the palace, everyone looking at you since you are still wearing your nightdress. “Obbaron is safe. You are safe, my sun. The gods have answered my prayers.” Oberyn is relieved and he is sad but selfish, happy you are safe and home…finally.

In the palace, you are stripped out of your filthy and ragged nightgown and placed in a large, lovely bath. You refuse to let your son out of your sight, making the servant tut and disappear to tell on you to Oberyn. You can’t let him go right now.

Oberyn heard of your insistence that Obbaron be in your arms in the bath and he makes his way to your chambers after he asked for some food to be sent to you. “My sun, let me take him while you bathe.” Oberyn says as he walks in, eager to see the son he barely got a chance to hold before you left for Kings Landing.

You hesitate, almost refusing but you know that Obbaron will be safe in his father’s arms. The servants have all disappeared, leaving the bathing room and you nod after a moment, letting Oberyn come and take your son from your arms. “Be careful.” You choke out before you can stop yourself, even though you know it is foolish. Watching the children being struck down in front of you has affected you, making you tear up again as you step into the large pool of water. Your husband has seen you naked before, even if he did not wish to see you that way anymore - you would not hide yourself.

Oberyn watches you get into the bath and he can’t believe how beautiful you are. Even when wrecked with grief, you are still the most gorgeous woman he has even seen. He rocks the baby, looking down at his beautiful son and he leans down to kiss his forehead, thanking the gods that you are both okay.

You groan as you sink into the water, relieved to be able to clean yourself again after a week on ship. It’s selfish, wanting something like this when your poor aunt will never take another breath. Making you close your eyes so you don’t cry again before you pick up the cake of perfumed soap to start scrubbing every inch of your body, needing to feel clean again.

“I’ve missed you.” Oberyn confesses, knowing that now he needs to be completely honest. Life is too short. He needs you. “I love you. So much. I’ve missed you every single day since you’ve been gone.” He admits, “and our beautiful son.” He looks down at Obbaron.

You snort softly, not disbelieving him completely but finding it hard to believe that he had spent the last months pining for you. “I am sure you found comfort somewhere.” You murmur softly, relaxing into the bath. “I cannot believe for a moment that my husband was celibate while I was gone.”

Oberyn snorts, “alas my cock could not get hard for anyone other than you during your absence. Perhaps your departure forced me to reconsider what is important to me and I know now that I cannot live without you. You are - you are my world and I refuse to live in a world where you do not exist. I was - if you were dead…” He trails off, unable to put the thoughts into words. “I love you. It’s always been you and I need you. More than even I thought possible.”

“You fucking other people did not upset me.” You tell him, your voice level and sure. You have had a lot of time to think about why you were so furious and heartbroken when you discovered Oberyn in your old chambers with others. “If I had not been carrying Obbaron I might have joined in.”

Oberyn frowns, knowing you had discussed sharing your bed prior to your marriage, deciding to wait until after you had given birth. “You were upset that I chose to fuck over being by your side.” He states and you nod, knowing it seems foolish now. Most men do not come to their wife’s bedside during birth. “I do not wish to share a bed unless you are involved.” He tells you, knowing he made that decision as soon as the guilt hit him. He wants to be fully invested in this marriage and your pleasure is his pleasure.

You eye him in surprise, shocked that he would say that, but Oberyn seems sincere. Your heart melts slightly and you give a small nod. “I have missed you.” You confess. “Elia had- I was due to sail for Dorne just that next morning. To return to you.” It seems important that he knows you didn’t come home just because of the rebellion and his sister’s murder. You blink back tears and swallow heavily. “I wish I had been able to return like that. Simply because I wished to.”

Oberyn's heart aches, wishing that had been the case but it's not and his entire body yearns for vengeance. "Me too." He whispers, looking down at his son once more who has fallen asleep against his chest, exposed by the gapping in his robes. "My sun...I - I haven't slept. I haven't eaten. My worry that you - I didn't know if you were alive or dead. It was destroying me to not know and yet I lived in fear of knowing in case you -" He chokes, unable to speak the words.

You shuffle to the edge, reaching for Oberyn and stroking his arm as he holds your son. “We are here, safe with you, where we belong.” Your eyes slide down to your sleeping son and you give a soft smile. “He is comfortable with you already, he knows his father.”

Oberyn smiles sadly, “you both should’ve been here the entire time. Not just - not just now. He should know his father. I don’t blame you for leaving, my sun, but I want you to know I missed you every single day you were gone. I love you. And him. I don’t wish to lose you again.”

It’s what you want to hear, all you wanted although you don’t wish to hold Oberyn in a cage. “I love you, my prince. I am willing to share you, as long as no one else comes before me.”

"For now, I wish to have my wife. Tonight, I want you. To worship you and show you how much I love you. Tomorrow, we mourn my sister and her children. In time, I will have my revenge but tonight, I want to make love to my wife." He declares, his dark eyes focused on you.

Guilt settling over you, you look away, knowing you need to be honest with your husband. You couldn’t have known that he had decided to be celibate since you had boarded a ship for King’s Landing. “I must confess something to you.” You whisper. “I have had several in my bed while I was at the Red Keep. All women.” You assure him. “I did not want to risk carrying another man’s child while I am married to you, but I found pleasure in others.”

Oberyn’s cock twitches as he thinks of you in bed with other women. He can’t blame you for it. You are doing what he did but you had left, decided to leave him and go to Elia. He cannot be angry with you. “My sun, I do not blame you for seeking pleasure. I wouldn’t have minded watching.” He chuckles before his smile falls, his eyes meeting yours. “Would you have come home? If Elia…would you have come home?”

“I was already coming home to you.” You give him a bittersweet smile. “Elia told me that selfishly she wished me to stay but that her brother needed me more than she did. Her last days were- they were as peaceful as they could be.” You assure him. “We talked of Dorne and she was making plans to come home for a visit.” You bite your lip. “I wish I had convinced her to come with me. To just leave a few days earlier.”

Oberyn swallows harshly, “it wasn’t your fault my love. It was - the Lannisters. They will pay. I vow they will pay. Elia…gods bless her soul…she was stubborn like all Martell’s so I doubt you could’ve done anything to make her leave. Do not blame yourself.”

You relax, happy that Oberyn does not blame you. You look at the babe in his arms and you wish that things are different but they are not. The only thing you can do is move forward. “Lay the baby in the cradle.” You urge him, suddenly in need of your husband. “Join me in the bath. I need to feel you.”

Oberyn nods, shifting to stand up now the baby is asleep and he gently places him in the cradle across the room before he works on removing his robes and breeches. Once he is naked, he strides over to the bathtub and you shift forward to allow him to get in behind you. As soon as he is in, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you back into his chest, groaning at the feel of you in his arms. Finally.

You moan softly, leaning back against his chest and closing your eyes. It’s the first time in over a week that you truly feel safe. Relaxing against him and letting the silence fall between you. There is much more that needs to be said, but right now you just want your husband to hold you. “I love you.” You whisper softly, knowing that it would always be that way. It would always be Oberyn.

Oberyn caresses your arms, kissing your neck and he sighs, “I love you too,” into your skin. He breathes you in, relieved to have you in his arms again and he caresses every inch he can touch, just wanting to feel you and reassure himself that you are here.

You feel his hands start to roam over your body. Caressing and squeezing you, reassuring himself that you are in his arms. Turning your head, your lips graze his jaw, pressing kisses to his thin line of a beard that frames his face. “I want you.” You murmur softly, already feeling the first pangs of arousal.

“Are you sure?” He murmurs, not wanting to push you if you aren’t ready. You’ve experienced horrors that men at war see and he doesn’t want to push you. He has lost so much, he can’t lose you too. He needs you to fucking breathe. “My sun, tell me what you want.”

“I want to feel alive.” You whimper, grabbing his hands and bringing them up to your still nursing breasts. He doesn’t squeeze harshly, but you moan when his thumbs brush over your hard nipples. “I want to banish the images in my mind and replace them with my husband fucking me.”

Oberyn understands what you mean. Some of his whoring ways are the result of the horrific memories of the battlefield. Nights spent with lovers distract from the things he had seen. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” He orders but kisses along your neck, his fingers plucking your nipples and your responsive moan has his cock twitching against your back.

“Yessss.” You moan and tilt your head back so that you are leaning against his shoulder. “Touch me Oberyn.” You beg, eyes slipping closed as you let him play your body like an instrument.

Oberyn caresses your chest, his lips tracing your neck and shoulders until his hands dip lower. Caressing your stomach that carried his child and he secretly wishes to see you round again, do it properly this time. His fingers dip lower, playing with the curls above your cunt until he finally, finally, presses his finger to your clit.

Gasping, your legs thrash in the water as Oberyn starts to rub your clit. Pressing firmly and stroking you just like you need as you groan in his arms. This is what you need, to be surrounded by him, his scent in your nose as you kiss his pulse. Mindless to everything but the way he is making you feel. “Yes, Oberyn, yess.” You pant softly.

He groans, kissing along your neck as his cock hardens against your back, his fingers rubbing your clit and he wants you to cum just like this. “I love you. My sun. My wife. My love.” He coos, “cum for me.” He murmurs, breathing you in after being apart for so long.

It doesn’t take long, just a few more minutes of his magical fingers against your clit and you are crying out. Shuddering against him while he pushes you through pleasure until your chest is heaving and you are breathless. “Inside me.” You push his hand away and turn over, wanting to ride your husband in the bath. “Need you inside me.”

His hands immediately grip your hips, dragging you close so you are hovering over him and his lips immediately around your nipple, biting and sucking while he reaches down to position himself at your entrance. “Ride my cock. I want you to make yourself cum.” He orders, cupping your cheek while he kisses up your chest.

The only thing he is wearing is his chain with the family crest. Wrapping it up on your fist, you sink down onto his cock with a moan. All the fingers in the world will never feel as good as his cock. “Fuck, Oberyn.”

He watches you, dark eyes getting even darker as he watches you sink down onto his cock, your silk walls gripping him like no one else can. You’re gorgeous and his wife. “Fuck, my love. You always feel so good. Such a tight little cunt.” He coos, gripping your chin to make you look at him.

He is the only man you have let in your body and he knows it better than anyone. His cock spearing up into your deliciously and you clench around him at the lust in his eyes. “Your cunt.” You promise, grinding down onto him and swiveling your hips to make you moan. “Fill me up Oberyn.” You plead softly, looking into his dark eyes that are reflective in the child you made together. “I want to feel you for days.”

He growls, suddenly feeling desperate after he could’ve lost you from his own stupidity. His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you against him, his cock thrusting up into you to make the water spill off the sides of the tub. “Should have never let you go. Should’ve worshiped you so you didn’t leave.” He murmurs against your mouth.

Whimpering, you turn into his kiss, sliding your tongue into his mouth and your hand curls around the back of his neck. Moaning every time he thrusts up into you, it becomes a symphony of mewls and panted breaths as he rocks his hips up frantically.

Your breath mingles with his and his hands are everywhere, sliding down to squeeze your ass, pulling you into him to help you rock on his cock as he thrusts up into you. “Gods, I love you.” He groans, his lips attached to your neck and he sucks to leave a bruise beneath the skin.

“I love you.” You pant, closing your eyes and tangling your fingers into his hair as you rock up and down on his length. Rolling your hips faster as need builds and you know that you’re going to cum soon. “Please- oh fuck, I’m so close.”

Oberyn immediately presses his fingers to your clit, rubbing it harshly while he leans closer to press his lips to yours. “Cum for me, my sun.” He orders against your mouth, his cock twitching inside of you as his own orgasm nears.

It’s so good, blinding pleasure crashes over you as you buck in his arms. Gasping and crying out when your walls clamp down around him as you soak his already wet cock with a torrent of your juices, barely able to rock on him as your thighs shake.

Oberyn’s fingers dig deep into your ass, working you on his cock while he seeks his own climax. Your walls flutter around his cock, gripping him, and he hisses when you lean forward to bite down on his jaw. “Cum.” You plead and it sends him over the edge. His cock buried deep as he thrusts up into you, painting your walls with his hot seed.

You whine at the heat flooding your womb, leaning in and kissing him gently. “I love you so much.” You promise, pressing your lips to his between words. “My prince, my husband.”

“My princess. My world.” He vows, pulling you close and you giggle at the water that splashed onto the floor. “Leave it. It will be dried.” He tells you and kisses your nose then your forehead. “I - I shall thank the gods you have returned to me.”

****

“You are lovely.” You look in the mirror at the beautiful woman that had been assigned to be your handmaid while you are going through your second pregnancy. “What is your name?” Her fingers are still where they are braiding your hair and her dark, kohl lined eyes look up to meet yours. You know her name, but you wish to talk candidly and to ask questions is the obvious choice to begin. To show interest.

“Ellaria, my princess.” The woman smiles, her expression is soft and you instantly feel attracted to her.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” You coo and Ellaria flusters. You take her hand and bring it to your lips, kissing her palm and she inhales sharply.

“Not as beautiful as you, my princess.” She responds breathlessly.

She is perfect for your bed. You haven’t missed the way that Oberyn’s gaze followed her when she was introduced and you find her most attractive. “Tell me Ellaria,” you turn and look her in the eyes. “How would you feel about joining Oberyn and I in our chambers tonight?” You ask, smirking slightly at the idea of surprising your husband.

Ellaria’s eyes widen but she smirks, after a moment. “I would be honored to join you and the prince, my princess.” She answers, her fingers caressing your neck and shoulders and you shiver in delight. She finishes your hairstyle and leans down to kiss your cheek. “I shall count the moments until I can be in your bed.” She murmurs and you turn your head to press your lips to hers, wanting to kiss her before tonight. You are impatient.

Her lips are soft, sweet as you reach up and cup her cheek. Deepening the kiss and sliding your tongue into Ellaria’s mouth, you push up to your feet so you can stand with her and hold onto her hips as she starts to kiss you back.

Ellaria caresses your back, her tongue sliding against yours when the doors open and Oberyn strides in. His eyebrows raise and he chuckles. “Looks like my princess is being well looked after.” He grins and slides up behind you, kissing your neck. “Have you asked her, my sun?” He murmurs in your ear, his hands gripping your waist.

You pout slightly that your plans have been ruined but you turn and press your lips to his when you break the kiss from Ellaria. “I had hoped to surprise you.” You huff slightly, nodding and turning back to the servant with a smile. “As you can tell, both the prince and I are eager for you to join us.”

Ellaria flusters, a smile on her face as she leans back to look at you and your husband. “Please let me pleasure you both. I want to please my prince and princess.”

Oberyn smirks, reaching out to cup her cheek, “let us pleasure the princess. She is carrying my child and I am certain that your tongue on her clit would help her relax.”

You moan at the idea and nod, biting your lip. “Why don’t you show Ellaria how wonderful your cock is while she devours my cunt?” You suggest. “I know you have not been able to fuck me as hard as you wish and I think our girl will enjoy screaming your name.”

Oberyn’s cock twitches at the thought. You’ve already discussed him fucking others and you have given your permission for him to cum inside the ones you like. Ellaria was included in that consent. “Strip my beautiful wife out of her robes before you follow suit and show me how beautiful the female form can be. I want to worship at the altar of two gorgeous cunts.” Oberyn coos as he begins to strip off his own clothes.

You give a small, excited giggle as Ellaria moans quietly and you let her guide you toward the large round bed. “He’s got a wonderful cock and his fingers are magical.” You promise her while she pulls at the thin ties of your robes to pull them off your rounded body.

Her hands are deft, quickly undressing you and her hands caress your bump for a moment before she begins to remove her own clothes. When she’s naked, you turn back towards your husband. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she? A true Dornish gem.” You coo, reaching out to cup her breast and Oberyn loves seeing you so free. “She’s perfect for us. Ellaria, lay my princess down and suck on her sore tits while I push my fingers inside of your cunt.”

It takes you a moment to get comfortable but soon you are on your back and Ellaria’s lips are pressed to your skin, kissing up your side before she wraps her lips around your nipple. “Oh!” Your back arches and you cry out in pleasure, your breasts so sensitive since your pregnancy. “Fuck, Oberyn, make her feel-feel good.” You order your husband as he kneels on the bed behind her.

Oberyn groans at the sight of Ellaria bent over as she sucks on your tits and that makes him eager to lean down and slide his tongue through her folds, making her moan out in delight around your breast. You caress her side, eyes closed as you enjoy her hot mouth and you can hear your husband’s tongue diving into her cunt.

The sounds of pleasure fill your chambers, licking and sucking accompanying muffled moans. Your fingers stroke Ellaria’s cheek and through her hair while she sucks in your breasts. “How does she taste?” You ask Oberyn, knowing that she must be delicious, kissing her had been wonderful. “My sun, she is tangy and sweet like your favorite Dornish wine.” Oberyn praises as he lifts his head to wink at you over her shoulder. “When you taste her, you will hate to pull away.”

You grin, “I can’t wait. My handmaid shall be spoiled by us. Her cunt will never be without pleasure.” You promise and Ellaria moans, kissing down your stomach, over your bump until she is between your thighs. Oberyn shifts to accommodate her and he kneels behind Ellaria, knowing she’s wet enough to take him so when her tongue slides through your folds, he pushes into her with a deep groan.

Her moan makes your entire core clench. Vibrating through you wonderfully and your fingers tangle in her hair, your eyes watching your husband’s face as she obviously clenches around him. He looks gorgeously wrecked and you don’t feel jealous, instead you are eager for him to rock into her. Ellaria’s tongue slides through your folds and flicks against your clit.

“How does her tongue feel, my love?” Oberyn asks, his hands gripping Ellaria’s waist as he rocks into her a little harder, sending her tongue deeper into your cunt. “Incredible.” You sigh, shifting to look down at Ellaria as her face is buried in your cunt and you look up to meet the eyes of your husband. “Fuck, you look gorgeous, my sun.”

The three of you work closer to orgasm together. Moaning when Oberyn thrusts into your handmaid and pushes her tongue deeper inside your cunt. You rock your hips up to meet her eager tongue and your hands cup your breasts, toying with your nipples.

Oberyn wants you to cum and Ellaria to cum before he does. Reaching over your handmaid, he presses his thumb to your clit while Ellaria’s tongue dives deep. “Cum for us, my sun.” He orders, his dark eyes meeting yours.

Your eyes slip closed and you cry out, your thighs pressing against Ellaria’s head while you come apart. Heedless to everything but your pleasure as she licks into you.

Ellaria works you through it, her head knocking against Oberyn’s hand until his thumb finds her clit, rubbing it to push her over the edge when his cock twitches inside of her, his orgasm nearing. “Cum for us, sweetness.” He coos, bending over to kiss her shoulder.

You can tell the second she starts to cum. Oberyn gently bites her shoulder and her entire body stiffens. Crying out loudly, it’s the sweetest sound you have heard mixed with Oberyn’s groan. He rocks into her faster, his hips slamming against her ass he fucks her through her high and chases his own. “Cum baby.” You order Oberyn. “Fill her up. I want to see your seed drip from her gorgeous cunt.”

Oberyn clenches his jaw, sweat beading on his brow as he rocks into Ellaria, her cunt dripping from her orgasm and it only takes a few thrusts before he is cumming, painting her walls with his seed. “Fuck.” He pants, eyes closed until he forces himself to look at you, see your expression as his cock pulses inside of your handmaid.

You smirk as you watch the two of them. Reaching out and caressing her cheek where her chin is resting on your hip. “Beautiful.” You coo softly, watching Oberyn as he watches you. “How was your first experience with the Prince?” You ask her curiously.

“Exquisite, my princess.” Ellaria declares breathlessly.

“Good. I would like you to share our bed. I will require pleasure in the lead up to birth and my husband shall require a beautiful cunt to lose himself in. Would you be interested in being that woman?” Oberyn smirks at your question, pleased to see how you own your pleasure now without embarrassment or hesitancy.

Ellaria’s eyes widen and she twists, looking back and forth between you and Oberyn, who just pulled out of her cunt and moves to settle down beside you and strokes your stomach. He arches an eyebrow at her with a smirk and she flusters. She had been days away from seeking out the brothels to work before she had been brought to the palace to be your handmaid. Now she was being presented with something beyond her wildest dreams. “I do not know what to say.” She admits quietly and you don’t want to push her, but you want her to say yes. “It is thrilling to know that you would want me that way, but if you should grow bored?” She doesn’t want to be on the streets again, worrying about what food will fill her belly.

“If that day ever comes, you would still have a place in our household.” You look over at Oberyn who nods seriously.

Ellaria bites her lip, looking at you and the prince, and it’s easy to make her decision. “Very well. I would be honored to be in your bed every night. Whatever you wish of me, it is yours.” Ellaria promises and you shake your head.

“Only what you wish, too. We will not force you to do something you do not wish to do. We are all about pleasure, aren’t we my love?” You coo at Oberyn, caressing his chest and he nods.

“Very much so. I only want pleasure. No pain.” He murmurs, his eyes meeting yours and he swears he falls for you again, unable to believe this strong woman is his wife. It’s incredible to watch after knowing you as a shy young woman.

You smile at Oberyn, unable to resist kissing him again before you reach for Ellaria. “Only pleasure. And you will be treated with respect.” You promise her, unwilling to tolerate anything else. “The prince will simply have a princess and a paramour who he can have together without there being any harsh words.”

Ellaria nods, grinning as she cannot believe how lucky she is to be able to share a bed with the prince and princess. Her birth into poverty has not held her back and she is determined to ensure she remains by your side for a long time, pleasuring you and serving you as your handmaid. “Let us wash up and we shall get some food. I want some berries then I want to fuck my wife while she makes her beautiful handmaid cum with her tongue.” Oberyn smirks, eager to fuck again.

****

“You look exquisite, my love.” You coo, reaching up and caressing Ellaria’s cheek before you adjust one of her braids. “Perfectly matched and stunning.” The deep plunging V of her dress is shocking for the women of the North, but it matches the low neckline and high slits in the skirts of your own dress. Both of you dressed to accompany Oberyn to the wedding of Joffrey.

“You are anxious, my love.” Ellaria coos, walking over to Oberyn whose back is tense as he looks out of the window to the streets of Flea Bottom. “I hate being here. With those bastards that killed my darling sister. I yearn for blood.” He growls, tensing when Ellaria’s hand touches his back.

You had refused to stay in the Red Keep, not wanting to return to the very rooms that Elia had been killed in before your eyes. Despite the years that have passed, you feel as strongly as Oberyn. You join the two of them and lean over to kiss your husband's cheek on the other side of him so that both of you flank him. “They will pay. The Lannisters may have dealt us a blow, but we will make sure their house is ground to dust and forgotten.”

Oberyn clenches his jaw, nodding in response and he hisses when he imagines getting his revenge finally. It’s been years since Elia was killed but he’s desperate for vengeance. “The Lannisters…I will kill every last one of them.” He vows and turns his head to press his lips to yours. He grabs Ellaria, dragging her closer so she can press her lips to yours too, the three of you entangled.

You moan into the kiss, your hand on your lover’s hip. Both of you will need to keep Oberyn calm and keep him from acting rashly. He was hot headed sometimes but with both of you by his side, he can be reasoned with. Together, all three of you will raze the house of golden lions to the ground.

****

The wedding was boring like all royal weddings, lengthy and tedious but when you attend the reception, Oberyn is eager to sip the wine and feast on the berries Ellaria is feeding him. You can feel eyes on you, so many are unused to seeing a prince and princess with a paramour in King's Landing where lovers remain banished to the shadows. “Lover, shall we take a stroll?” You ask Ellaria, wanting Oberyn to have a moment with the young knight who is eying him from across the way. Perhaps tonight, another shall join you in your chambers.

Smirking, you nod and lean over to press your lips to Oberyn’s lips before you stand. Moving over beside Ellaria, you link your arm through hers happily and pick up your goblet to carry with you. You had specially asked for watered down wine discreetly, not wanting Oberyn to worry about your secret for now. “Let us go make scandalous conversation with the noble ladies here.” You tease with a joyous smirk. They would not dare insult you to your face as the princess of Dorne.

Ellaria grins, happy to be beside you and support you during this time of torment, the dreaded capital, and the Lannisters. “I didn’t know the Dornish were so accommodating to their whores.” Cersei approaches and you stiffen your back, staring at the queen.

“I didn’t know the Lannisters were so accommodating to murderers.” You counter, glancing over at the Mountain who is striding past, watching over the king.

“My princess. Come, let us walk. You do not need the stress.” Ellaria says, caressing your arm and you glare at the queen before Oberyn joins you, wrapping his arm around your waist, his own jaw clenched. “Cersei. The queen mother as you are now.” He quips, narrowing his eyes when Tywin approaches behind his daughter.

Cersei’s eyes narrow back at Oberyn before she plasters a fake smile on her face. “Tell me,” she hums, turning towards you, “how do you stand the whispers as you walk around merrily with your husband’s whore. She’s birthed four? It’s it four? Bastards?”

Oberyn narrows his eyes before he chuckles, looking up at Tywin. “I suppose four bastards are better than keeping it in the family, isn’t that right, Lord Tywin?” He quips, making Cersei’s smile drop.

Tywin is cool as he responds, “you should know all about that, marrying your niece after all.” Oberyn’s hand twitches with the urge to stab the older man but your grip on his other arm has him pausing.

You give Tywin a smile that tinges on acidic. “While I might have been the Prince’s niece by marriage, at least we can be sure that there is no common blood.” You tsk and shake your head before you glance at his daughter. “It is a wonder that the King and all the Baratheon children inherited the golden locks of the Lannisters. Almost as if dear Robert’s seed was impotent.”

Cersei hisses through her teeth and the urge to slap you is great but people are watching so she maintains her composure. "Lannisters just have stronger characteristics." She counters, "but my late husband adored the golden locks of our children." She declares expertly and Oberyn scoffs.

"Perhaps those characteristics are best left in this generation. Your son has chosen a bride with whom he shares no blood relation...a blessing for the kingdoms." Oberyn stabs, making Tywin clench his jaw.

“Indeed.” You smirk as you lift your cup to your lips, nodding at the queen mother as you take a small sip. Grimacing slightly at the bitterness of the wine. “Pity that the king's wedding did not merit casks of good wine to be opened.” You cough, shaking your head slightly.

Ellaria frowns, watching you cough more and Oberyn grows concerned when you start to wheeze. "What - what is happening?" He cries, "my love. Breathe!" He orders, slapping you on the back but you continue to choke, your face contorted. "Maester. Someone get a maester. She - she is with child!" Oberyn shouts, growing more panicked by the second.

Clawing at your throat, you hear the panic and commotion around you, the cruel ring of Joffrey’s laugh as you struggle to breathe. “Dornish bitches cannot handle good wine.” He scoffs, black dots appearing in your vision as you vaguely watch as he swipes his own goblet up and takes a large gulp, as if to prove he is superior.

Oberyn catches you as you collapse, his heart pounding and he tries to tell you to breathe. He begs you to breathe but you rasp and soon enough, you go still. Oberyn shakes you, “please my love. Wake up. Breathe.” He pleads as your glassy eyes stare at him, blood dripping from your mouth and his following roar of anguish can be heard across to Flea Bottom.

Joffrey starts to sputter and choke, drawing attention away from your prone form. Grasping his throat and turning purple as he tries to breathe. Making the smirk on Cersei’s face fall as she screams, rushing from her spot standing over you to where the king has collapsed.

Oberyn doesn't give a fuck that the king is suffering the same fate. His body cradles yours as he wails in agony of losing you. You are the sun in his sky, the air he breathes. He chokes, "please, my sun, come back to me." He begs and Ellaria is kneeling beside him, cupping your cheek as she begs you to wake up too.

****

“Please, my love.” Ellaria reaches for Oberyn’s arm, trying to gently coax him away from your body. “The maester needs to close the casket so it can be loaded up onto the ship.” Her red-rimmed eyes speaks of her anguish and heartbreak as she looks down at your still form. “She wants to go home, to be buried in the sands of Dorne.”

Oberyn can’t tear himself away from you. The grief weighs him down every single step he takes. His vengeance threatens to overwhelm him but he knows he cannot risk Ellaria. He has already lost so much. He has to return home and then form a plan for his revenge. Perhaps he can meet the Targaryen he has heard whispers about, assist her with her fight for the Iron Throne. “I love you, my sun.” He whispers, leaning down to kiss your lips before he allows the maester to close the casket. “What shall we do without her, Ellaria? She is - was my entire sun. Now my days are dark.”

“We will go back and hug your babies.” Ellaria whispers softly. She knows that Oberyn loves her, just like you had loved her, but there was a special bond between you and the prince. “And plot our vengeance.”

“The baby.” Oberyn chokes, “she was - she was with child again.” He swallows harshly, barely processing how much he has lost. The love of his life and a child. His other children, twelve in total, are safe in Dorne but he mourns his loss. “I - I am not sure I can live without her. How are you- you appear to be stronger than me.”

Ellaria shakes her head. “No, I am weeping on the inside but I know she would want me to be strong for you.” She murmurs, staring at the casket as the Dornish soldiers had traveled here with you, start to carry your casket to the ship. “She had not announced she was pregnant yet, how did you know?”

Oberyn smiles wistfully, “I know her. Her breasts were sore and she came quicker than normal. She couldn’t hide it from me. I knew she was with child.” He chokes, tears in his eyes as he looks at his lover, your lover. “Let us get on this ship before I do something stupid like rush into the Red Keep and slay every Lannister I see.”

Ellaria wraps her arm around Oberyn’s waist and the two of them lead a mournful procession of Dornish soldiers as they trail behind the cart loaded down with your body.

Once they are on board, the casket is laid in place and Oberyn walks over to run his fingers along the wood. He will ensure you have a proper casket when you return to Dorne. He leans down to press a kiss where your face would be when he hears the pounding. “Gods.” He frowns, “Ellaria. Come here. Do you - can you hear that?” He asks, wondering if it’s his imagination

Sobbing, you beat against the box you are in. This was not supposed to have happened. Waking up in darkness with little room to move, you had cried out until your sore voice had given way. Certain that you are in hell and that the gods are punishing you as you continue to try to get someone’s attention. The noise of the cart and horses, the docks and the men are loud, muffling your cries for help. “I’m alive!” You scream, your voice cracking. “Open it! I’m alive in here!”

Ellaria’s eyes widen. “She’s awake! My prince, she’s awake!”

Oberyn’s eyes widen back and he waves over the guards. “Open this fucking casket now! Now!” He demands and the men rush over. They all work to pry open the box and when the lid is removed, Oberyn inhales sharply when he sees your beautiful eyes meeting his, wincing from the light. “Oh my sun. You’re alive.” Oberyn reaches out to grab you, lifting you out of the casket and into his arms, his lips kissing you all over as he sobs in relief that you are alive.

You gasp in the sweet fresh air of the docks, salty and clean. Squinting your eyes against the harsh sunlight, you feel Oberyn’s arms around you and his prayerful kisses in relief. It hadn’t been supposed to happen this way and it chills you to think that you could have been locked in that box until there was no air. You couldn’t warn Oberyn, not if it had to be believable. “It worked.” You hadn’t expected to be out for as long as you were, but you hadn’t died and that was all that mattered.

“You - you were dead. Poisoned. I- fuck- we thought we had lost you.” Ellaria comes to kneel down, wrapping her arms around you and Oberyn, her own tears wetting your gown. “You’re alive. My princess. We thought -” She chokes and Oberyn kisses your forehead. “We thought you were dead. I’m so sorry, my love. We shouldn’t - the Maester declared that you were dead.”

You reach up and caress Oberyn’s face, turning to kiss Ellaria gently. “It is okay, my loves. You did not know.” You assure them, turning and kissing Oberyn fiercely. “Tell me that it worked.” You can see his brow knit together in confusion. Looking around and lowering your voice, you whisper, “tell me a Lannister is dead. Their cups were poisoned.”

Oberyn frowns, wondering what you mean until he remembers the death of Joffrey. “My love. Joffrey…he’s dead.” He declares, “he’s dead and he - you - you took the same wine to poison it? What if - it could’ve killed you. I thought it did.” He chokes, pressing his forehead against yours. “Why did you do that?” He demands to know, not wanting to believe that you did something so stupid yet so genius.

“To avenge my dear Elia, to repay them for the anguish that they have brought to our family.” You give a small giggle, pleased that you had taken out the king - the one that would hurt their egos and house the most. “Forgive me for not telling you.” You beg, looking from Oberyn to Ellaria. “I knew you would not let me go through with it if you knew. My plan was to drink only a little and get sick so there were no doubts cast on our house. I have been exposing myself to the poison over the last few weeks to build up a tolerance.”

Oberyn pulls you even closer, “you silly woman. What - the baby - you aren’t - you aren’t with child?” He asks, confusion on his face as he wonders why you’ve been so off lately. You’ve been a genius, seeking revenge in a way that no one would know but he prays you are okay after the maester inspects you.

You shake your head gently and reach out to cup his cheek. “I would never put your child in danger.” You promise him. “My symptoms were because of the poison and the antidote I was using.” You explain. “I am sorry I worried you. I was hoping more of those bastards would drink. But at least we can know we took her son from her and her daughter prefers living in Dorne.”

Oberyn kisses your forehead, relieved that you are okay. “Do not fret, my love. We will ensure you are with child soon enough.” He chuckles, “I am just relieved you are well. I could not live without my sun. Gods…I adore you.” He vows, cupping your cheeks as he presses his lips to yours, sweet and chaste in a reminder that you are okay.

You smile, reaching out to cup your husband’s cheek and you reach out to take Ellaria’s hand with your free one. “I love you.” You murmur to them both. “They have learned that Lannisters are not the only ones who pay their debts.”

Oberyn kisses your forehead. “No, the Martells get their revenge.” He responds, unable to believe he’s married to such a formidable woman. He could never live without you, ever. You are everything to him. You always have been. You are the light of his life. His sun.

#pedro pascal #oberyn fucking martell #oberyn martell x f!reader #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell smut #oberyn martell fanfiction #oberyn martell x reader x ellaria sand #oberyn martell imagine #prince oberyn #dead dove do not eat #dddne #dead dove fic

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martellspear · 10 months ago

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MARTELL WEEK - DAY 05

⤻ favorite "pre-doran" martell

Rewards were offered for their heads, particularly that of the Yellow Toad, Princess Meria Martell. Lord Jon Rosby was named Castellan of Sunspear and Warden of the Sands, to rule Dorne in the king’s name.

After the Dornishmen swarmed in from the shadow city to retake the castle, he was bound hand and foot, dragged to the top of the Spear Tower, and thrown from a window by none other than the aged Princess Meria herself.

#he had it coming i guess🤭#i am OBSESSED with her #meria martell #asoiaf #martell week #asoiaf edit #dorneedit #a song of ice and fire #house martell

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crowandmousewritingco · 5 months ago

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Summer Days of Dorne

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x gn!reader (Ellaria is mentioned to be involved.)

Words: 963

Rating G (It Oberyn come on. There's a little sexy flirty happening.)

Warnings: Oberyn being Oberyn, but this one is pretty chill.

Summary: Dorne is known for its hot summers so you take comfort in a nice cool pool. Though you catch the attention of a certain Prince.

Author: Mod Mouse

Note: Heres my first fanfiction in awhile and the first work on Crow and Mouse Writing Co. I hope you all enjoy 😋

Summer has always been your favorite season. It was a welcomed relief after the dark and cold winters of your hometown. And now that you lived in Dorne, the kingdom rarely left the summer season. Although on days like today you wished for cooler temperatures. The heat had become unbearable making the castle too muggy for your afternoon reading sessions. That’s when you decided that a dip in the pool would solve all of your heat related problems which was where you found yourself now.

You dipped your toes into the cool pool with a sigh. The perfect weather was amazing but when the sun beat down a little too long then you started to wish for the cooler summers of your hometown. You let your face lean back on your hands taking in the rays of the sun. Lazy days like this were few and far between since you became the prince of Dorne. Of course Oberyn was more than happy to help you relax, but nothing felt better than cool water on a hot day. Even if something was bothering you, Oberyn would be there to give you some quick loving. And honestly you couldn’t be more happy about it.

After sunning yourself for a couple more minutes, you stood up and finally let the see through robe fall onto the stones behind you. You slowly slipped into the pool, sighing as the cool water took away the summer heat. The water doing nothing to cover your nudity although you didn’t really mind. If it wasn’t for Oberyn showing you that it was okay to show off your body, you would have been stuck in the historic ways of your hometown. You let yourself lazily glide through the water before deciding that floating on your back sounded like the best idea. You stayed on your back for a moment staring up at the beautiful sky. The clouds slowly drifted across your vision creating and disappearing in a moment's notice. Taking a couple of deep breaths, you held one and sank under the surface.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile Oberyn had just left a meeting he wasn’t entirely thrilled about being called to. Doran needed him to witness some important trade agreements, but Oberyn didn’t think that way. Meetings meant time away from his partners and that was something he wasn’t too keen on. Now that he was free from his responsibility he began his search for you. Oberyn started with the normal spots– the bedroom, library and the garden– but no sign of you. He was ready to go upstairs when he spotted you swimming in the pool. His hungry eyes took in your moving body watching as your muscles moved. His eyes glinted with a spark of mischievousness and he hurried to join you by the pool. After the day he had had, he was ready to have his hands on you.

You hadn’t noticed that he had approached the pool until you heard him say, “Well I didn’t know we had mermaids in our pool,” Oberyn chuckled as he squatted at the edge of the pool. Turning towards the voice, you opened your eyes and smiled at the sight of your husband.

“A pool is no place for a mermaid. We must swim free in the salty waves of the ocean,” you playfully replied before swimming over to him.

Oberyn smirked in return, “I think the best place for a mermaid is in my bed.”

“Wouldn’t that make your bed too wet?” You teased titling your head to the side.

“Oh I think my bed gets wet enough with you and Ellaria in it.” Oberyn teased flirtatiously knowing what the two of you were like during last night's activities.

You couldn’t help but blush at his words. Damn he always knew how to make you shiver. How with just a few words he could make you weak in knees and ready to do whatever he asked. Oberyn had that power over you, and so did Ellaria, but even Ellaria wasn’t immune to Oberyn’s antics.

“I don’t doubt your abilities but why wait when you can take your mermaid in their own domain.” You replied with an edge of invitation to it. Nothing would please more than for your husband to take you where anyone could walk in and see you.

Oberyn raised his eyebrows as if he was about to question you, but quickly he smiled at the idea. Oberyn’s golden robes were quickly discarded, and your eyes couldn’t help but roam his fit body. All the scars from his past battles were on display for your eyes, and all you wanted to do was to kiss every single one of them. He sat down on the edge and quickly slipped in beside you. Wasting no time putting his hands on you to pull you in for a long kiss. You smiled and kissed him, letting your hands rest on his chest

You broke the kiss and spoke just loud enough for him to hear you, “Someone missed me,” You teased.

“I always miss you when you aren’t in my arms,” Oberyn purred and nuzzled his face into your neck. “Maybe I should ask the Maesters if there’s a way to keep you attached to me.”

You chuckled and kissed his cheek before dragging your lips up his cheek, stopping just before his ear. A smirk found its way across your face, opening your mouth, just slightly you dragged your teeth across his ear lobe and whispered, “Well I can think of one way that you can stay attached to me.”

Oberyn let out a soft moan and pushed you up against the pool wall, kissing you with the heat of the sun itself. What a wonderful summer this was going to be.

#oberyn x reader #oberyn martell #prince oberyn #oberyn x you #oberyn x gn!reader #pedro pascal characters #pedrohub #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #mod mouse writing #pedro has a death grip on us #pedro brainrot #the brainrot is real #crow and mouse writings #fanfiction

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jozor-johai · 2 months ago

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The Dornish in TWOW

Just looking at a bunch of things we know, thinking about potential future developments.

Maybe this is in part to defend why we need to care about the Dornish plotlines—I don't think GRRM introduced these for no reason, and as I'm trying to point out, those four chapters in FeastDance, plus our two from TWOW, have placed Dornish in a lot of different plotlines. If these start to converge at all, the Sand Snakes are suddenly going to be a very valuable and knowledgeable power bloc.

In fact, let me say: looking at all these moving parts, I don't think there's any way that Doran has a "master plan" ... yet. However, they've got agents in so many places that if they all report back to Doran—and Doran plans in response, say midway through TWOW maybe—then we might see a whole bunch of storylines shift at once.

In the Aegon/Golden Company situation:

Arianne Martell, along with Daemon Sand and Elia Sand have joined up with the Golden Company at Griffin's Roost. Arianne has left for Storm's End, where Connington is waiting, apparently having taken the castle.

Interestingly, we also know that "Spotted" Sylva Estermont (Santagar), another member of the Arianne-Myrcella plot, has been hurriedly shipped off to Greenstone to marry the elderly Lord Eldon Estermont. However, Greenstone has been taken by Marq Mandrake of the Golden Company, and Jon Connington has arranged for Mandrake to bring any noble captives from Greenstone to Cape Wrath—and, now that Spotted Sylva is an Estermont, that means her. I suspect that means we see Sylva and Arianne reunited quite soon.

Meanwhile, in King's Landing (which the Golden Company are undoubtedly heading towards)

Nymeria Sand has been sent to King's Landing to officially take the vacant Dornish seat on the Small Council.

Tyene Sand has been sent to act as a septa and gain the trust of the High Sparrow, meaning the Dornish are also trying to have an agent within that power bloc as well. Since we last see Cersei accompanied at all times by a septa, we might see Tyene and Cersei interact in TWOW.

If Arianne is still with the Golden Company by the time Aegon reaches King's Landing, it's possible that we might see Nymeria and Tyene reunited with their cousin within the city walls.

Meanwhile, in Oldtown

"Alleras" aka Sarella Sand is in Oldtown, working with Sam and formerly Archmaester Marwyn "the Mage." They will probably be witness to whatever Euron pulls down there so would also be a useful source of information.

Meanwhile, across the Narrow Sea—

In the Dany plot arc:

Archibald Yronwood and Gerris Drinkwater are in Meereen, down one frog. To get the Tattered Prince's help with the dragons, Quentyn Martell promised to give Pentos to the Tattered Prince once it was taken (and in the process, promising it would be taken). Barristan utilizes these two Dornish to transfer the terms of that deal to the Barristan-"Dany"-Shavepate coalition, which they agree to in exchange for a ship to Dorne to return Quentyn's bones.

This is quite interesting, because it places these Dornishmen as the hinge to a number of moving parts. For one, it means Barristan is relying on them to confirm the terms of the Pentos agreement with Team Dany. In addition, it means that they will become a potential source of information for Doran Martell as to the situation in Meereen (chaos as of now) and Quentyn's fate. I suspect that Doran will not be pleased with Quentyn's fate in Meereen.

I also suspect that a report of the current situation in Meereen will look like this: Dany is missing, the dragons are out of control, and the remaining forces on Dany's side are in chaos fighting a losing siege. Depending on when Arch and Drink leave Meereen to return Quentyn's bones, Doran might get a pretty unflattering picture of Dany's situation—which he may then use to calculate his next moves.

However, as Arch and Drink return home, they may cross paths with a few other Dornishmen:

Andrey Dalt, who we last saw with Arianne in The Queenmaker**,** is currently en route to Norvos to stay with Lady Mellario, estranged wife of Doran Martell and mother to Arianne, Quentyn, and Trystane, is in Norvos. This is also where Areo Hotah is from, and I sometimes wonder if we've heard so much about it because we'll see it at some point. If we don't see Andrey on his way to Norvos, we may see Andrey in Norvos if Dany stops there on her way out of the Dothraki Sea.

Garin of the Greenblood, who was also with Arianne and Drey, is en route to Tyrosh. I'm personally quite convinced we'll see Garin again because he's been identified with a jade earring and a single gold tooth—which will make him very easily recognizable from another POV. Dorne under Prince Doran Martell appears to have a very close relationship with Tyrosh: as a girl, Arianne played in the Water Gardens with the green-haired daughter of the Archon of Tyrosh, and might have been sent to Tyrosh herself if not for Mellario's objections. If that had happened, she might have been betrothed to Viserys Targaryen there, in secret. If the current leaders of Tyrosh are at all like that Archon, Garin may be headed for a very cushy placement in Tyrosh, perhaps under the Archon.

Meanwhile, in Dorne:

Last we heard, Trystane Martell was meant to accompany Myrcella Baratheon back to King's Landing by land, led by Ser Balon Swann. However, Doran intends to waylay this plan by getting Myrcella to request that Balon to hunt down Darkstar...

Gerold "Darkstar" Dayne has fled, apparently to his home in High Hermitage, following the disaster of the Myrcella expedition.

If Doran's plan goes off as intended, then Areo Hotah, Obara Sand, and Ser Balon Swann will be traveling together to High Hermitage "to beard Darkstar in his den." It's hard to say what exactly is going to happen here, but that's another moving part to keep track of—and one that will potentially, finally, introduce Dawn to the story.

Besides that, the youngest three Sand Snakes are all over Dorne—one each in Hellholt, Sunspear, and the Water Gardens. Ellaria Sand is with her youngest in Hellholt. I don't think they're major players but it's good to keep track of them.

Final Thoughts

After compiling all this, I’m realizing I’m much more interested (and convinced by) a unified Dornish effort yet to be created. There’s no way that Doran is able to see the future perfectly enough to plan ahead of all of these variables, but one power player having all these points of access is going to be pretty rare and valuable moving forward.

And, as I’ve suggested in the post here, I think it’s likely that the information they get about Dany might be biased and outdated by the time it reaches Doran, which could lead to a miscalculation.

#asoiaf #asoiaf meta #jozor thoughts #valyrianscrolls #dorne #twow speculation #arianne martell #gerold dayne #sand snakes

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catofoldstones · 8 months ago

Note

Top uses of rule of 3s in asoiaf?

Personally I’m interested in the 3 targ-martell marriages the first worked , the second was doomed/ruined and the third is yet to be seen but if arianne survives I’ll be happy lol

GIRL NO 😭😭 if Arianne dies we ride at dawn 😭

I mean, if an Aegon-Arianne betrothal does happen, I think Aegon VI being doomed is enough to doom their marriage. Arianne doesn’t necessarily have to die for it for fall apart and fulfill GRRM’s rule of threes. More than that, Arianne’s plot has a little too many points that set her up as the future ruler of Dorne. Especially her TWOW chapters.

On the other hand, I don’t know if I believe that an Aegon-Arianne match will happen because Aegon already has the Dornish support through his mother, Elia Martell. If Doran was so willing to put Viserys on the throne just to avenge his sister, I don’t think he will feel the need to secure an alliance with Aegon VI through a marriage with Arianne. Although, there may be some plot points that crop up in TWOW that will require Arianne to be married to Aegon VI but I can’t think of them right now lol.

My favourite rule of threes is the Starks and Petyr Baelish. Brandon Stark beat Petyr up for challenging him for Catelyn’s hand in marriage. He only stopped and didn’t kill Baelish because Catelyn begged him to spare Petyr. Then Ned choked the hell out of Baelish in Kings Landing, only to leave that task incomplete. The one to complete this will be a maid with purple serpents in her hair who will slay a giant in a castle made of snow and I for one cannot wait :) Sansa will finish what Brandon started, thereby ending the whole cycle of political anguish that the Starks had to suffer since AGOT.

#arianne martell #sansa stark #petyr baelish #dorne #the dorne plot #aegon vi targaryen #young griff #asoiaf #anon asks t #queued for later

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damn-stark · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 1 Heir to the iron throne

Chapter 1 of Sandstorm

A/N- First chapter I hope you guys like it!

Warning- Y/N has a son, swearing, death and blood, talks of sexual assault, fluff.

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

Episode- 7x02 & only the beginning of 7x03

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

*21 YEARS AGO*

“Mother, when is father going to return?”

He has been gone for months now, you can’t seem to recall what he told you last, but you know you miss him.

“Soon,” your mother assures you and tucks you in bed. “I swear.”

It was always the same answer. Vague, “he’s fighting a war.”.

“Now, Little Sunspot,” your mother continues softly and sits at the other end of your bed. “It’s your turn to pick a story for tonight, so what will it be?”

Without a moment of hesitation you beam at her and give her your answer. “Tell me the story of Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters.”

“Oh no!” Rhaenys whines from her side of the room. “Not that one again, Visenya, pick a different one!”

You pull your blanket over your mouth and snuggle under your blankets. “That’s mine and fathers favorite,” you mumble and then look at your mother to bat your lashes. “Please mother, tell it!”

Your mother offers you a sweet smile and nods in agreement. “I will, but I must warn you, I am not as good as Rhaegar is at telling it, but I will try my best.”

——

Home.

What a fickle thing. Home is as some say where your own family is. But for the 21 years you lived at Sunspear with your family; with your late uncle Oberyn and his daughters you thought of as sisters, and with your late uncle Doran and his son, both of them brothers to your mother, both beloved uncles, it seems you could never find such belonging amongst them.

It would be a lie to say you didn’t feel peace and happiness at Sunspear. Because you did. Yet it’s that sense of belonging that you’ve always craved and missed.

It’s a belonging you hope you’ll find here in Dragonstone, your family’s ancestral home, amongst the only living relative you still have from the House of the Dragon, from your fathers side of the family. Amongst your aunt Daenerys Targaryen.

Your great reunion has been a long time coming, years perhaps, but time only seemed fitting now. Especially since it’s not until recently that she herself has arrived back home, at Dragonstone.

A place you were born at and left a long time ago, a place you did not recall in any of your memories.

Coming upon it in the clouds seems so surreal, like a dream maybe, a faded one. It was a lot grayer than you imagined, colder; but that’s maybe due to the fact that you’re several hundred feet in the sky—The ocean's waters are darker as well; a lot more than the ones at Sunspear. It was strange, truly.

Dragonstone seems a lot smaller too—or seemed a lot smaller, but as you began to descend from the sky the castle became larger. Not only that but now that the clouds didn’t hide you anymore something else came to view, three dragons. They all looked dark and small, but the more you began to descend the larger they got, the more you can see their colored scales.

There was a green one like the green fields of grass, but it seems it’s also mixed with bronze. There was a cream and gold one, smaller than the other two. And the third one was larger, a beautiful black dragon with red mixed within it as well. And without fault all three of them screech, sing their song as they catch sight of Eraxis, your beautiful white She-dragon descend to the sand in front of the castle gates.

All three of them circle Eraxis as she lands. And Eraxis just watches them before she sings, a loud echoing and sharp song.

Once you climb down her and hit the sand, you can’t help but smile at her and caress her neck. “It is alright girl. It’s okay, they're family.”

Eraxis turns her head and tilts it before she looks back up to the sky as the dragons keep circling her.

You look up and smile at the three dragons before you drop your eyes to the sand beneath your shoes, and slowly crouch down to scoop up some of the cold sand in your hand and watch each grain drop out between the gaps between your fingers. You proceed to dust off the sand and rise up again until you hear a soft thump on the sand behind you.

“Welcome home,” you break your silence and begin to grin a soft smile. “Rhaenar.” You look back and meet the pair of dark brown eyes of your son.

Said boy lets out a small breath and looks up the castle gates to slowly examine it and watch the guards that stood in front of them. “It’s cold,” he mutters and buttons the top button of his shirt as if that would make any difference

You sigh softly and nod. “Quite is. Come on, let's get inside then.”

Rhaenar drags his hand along Eraxis as he follows you to the gate, but hesitates to depart from her as you reach the guards.

“I’ve come to see the Queen,” you tell them.

The guards eyes shift over your shoulder and land on the white dragon who watches them intently.

“Don’t worry,” you assure him. “She won’t do any harm.”

The guard's eyes shift back to you before he shifts to push the doors open, finally letting you see the long and grand stairway that leads up to the castle.

“Come Rhaenar,” you tell the boy who you know has probably only moved an inch from the dragon.

“And if she does not like us?” He asks in a timid voice that let his Dornish accent come out even after he tries to hide it.

You sigh and turn to reach him. “You do not have to worry about that my Sunspot,” you assure him. “Okay? She is family, your grandfather's sister, it will take some time to get used to one another but I am sure she will love you.”

Rhaenar lowers his gaze and nods, letting you smile as you cup his cheek. “And do not hide your accent, what would your uncle say?”

“Targaryens do not talk like me, mother,” he mutters and fists his hands.

You scoff. “Who said that?”

Rhaenar goes quiet, so you grab his face with both hands and press him. “Rhaenar, tell me.”

“Myself, books I have read about our family,” he whispers.

You sigh. “Oh my sweet boy, we talk how we damn want to, no one can tell us otherwise. Not books of old dead ancestors. Be proud you are part Dornish. That only makes you more fierce than any other Targaryen.” You smirk and brush the strands of hair out of his face. “Come. Let’s go.”

You turn back to face the gate and offer him your hand, but he just scoffs and shakes his head.

Now without any more delay and falters, both Rhaenar and you walk up the long stairway, catching Eraxis now flying overhead, keeping her distance from the other dragons flying in the sky. You can see the grand castle getting closer and closer.

Yet, before you can reach the castle gates, an army of unsullied, and tall, dark and muscular men in fur garments walk out and meet you halfway.

“Halt there,” a slender and tall man orders, causing you to do as he said.

“I have come to see the Queen,” you inform him. “I am…family.”

“Doubtful,” you hear a familiar voice interject between the crowd of men. “Who are you…” the moment the men part to the side to let him meet you halfway, the tiny man trails off and looks at you in shock and yet a puzzled look.

You scoff in amusement and smile mischievously as you instantly come to recognize the short man. “I am sorry, Lord Tyrion, it seems the last time we met, my hair was a different color.”

The small man hums and loses the confusion and now looks more serious. “Y/N Sand. Prince Oberyn’s daughter. I thought Dorne was not meant to get here yet.”

You shake your head. “No, but they are on the way, I,” you glance up at Eraxis and smile, “flew here.” You glance down at him. “And my name is not Sand. I am Princess Y/N Targaryen Martell,” you reveal yourself. “If you want to get technical, my true name my father gave me is Visenya, but well…I’ve grown accustomed to my new name.” You sigh. “I am the niece of your Queen. I have come to meet her, to join her.”

Lord Tyrion studies you for a brief moment with doubt lingering in his stare, making you smirk.

“Do you wish for me to prove myself to you, my Lord? Wash my hair? Bleed my veins, or tell my dragon a command?” You retort.

Lord Tyrion sighs and shakes his head. “No. Please none of that. I was just trying to progress the fact that a supposed dead princess is standing right in front of me.” He counters.

You swallow thickly. “I was never presumed dead, was I?” You ask rhetorically. “Nevertheless, I have no reason to lie, nor am I, Eraxis can prove that.”

Tyrion looks up at the white dragon and watches her as she keeps circling the area.

“Well,” Lord Tyrion says and meets your gaze. “Greetings Princess. It is very nice to finally meet you.” He offers you a faint smile. “Now please if you don’t mind please hand your weapons over.”

Usually parting from your weapon is a condition you don’t like to follow, but in this case it’s only fair, besides these large handsome men didn’t seem like they were going to let you pass if you didn’t follow orders.

“Rhaenar,” you say and hold a tall man’s dark gaze as he watches you unsheath your weapons. “Hand over your weapons.”

Without arguing, your son does as he’s told and hands his sword and daggers to the men, leaving you to bend down to unsheath the daggers you have hidden under your dress.

“Dothraki, I assume,” you comment as you keep holding the man’s gaze with a sly smirk.

“Yes,” Lord Tyrion confirms. “The Queens warriors.”

You stand up to your given height and catch the tall, dark man smirking at you as he takes your weapons. You then smirk back at him.

“Follow me,” Lord Tyrion breaks the tension and pulls your gaze back to him. “The Queen is already waiting.”

When you walk inside, the soldiers that had come out to greet you continue to follow you inside. They surround Rhaenar and you, and don't let you take in your surroundings very well.

“I do pardon for such a cold greeting,” Lord Tyrion interjects. “We just don’t know the true intentions of you or your…dragon.”

You scoff. “Do not worry, Lord Tyrion, I understand.”

“Tyrion,” he corrects you. “I am not the Lord of anything now.”

“My apologies.”

“It’s alright,” he assures you and brings his army of men and you to a halt in front of big black doors that lead to only one obvious room, the Throne Room.

Now it’s closer than ever. The moment you have dreamed of since you found out about her being alive. Beside your son Rhaenar, she was the last piece of family you have remaining from your Targaryen bloodline.

Her….

Let’s just say that happiness isn’t the most powerful feeling you feel now. Rhaenar senses that it seems, your nerves, and reaches for your hand to give it a gentle squeeze.

You look down at him and offer him a soft smile before you secure your hold around his hand.

Before the doors can be opened, Tyrion asks for your name and titles. It’s only after you give it to him that the guards begin to push the doors open, letting the gray dimly lit throne come to view.

As you proceed to walk inside, you see her. She’s sitting so poise on that stone throne at the end of the room. You see the color of her silver-white hair that matches yours. You see her fancy black garments and her red cloak elegantly hanging off her chair. You see her pale face, her blue eyes. You see her, your aunt, the Queen. She’s there, she’s real.

“Princess Y/N Targaryen, Princess of Dorne, and Daughter of late Prince Rhaegar Targaryen,” Tyrion announces as you keep slowly walking inside.

Now you notice a bald man, a man you know as Lord Varys. You catch his gaze narrow, and see him take a slow step forward as if fascinated by your presence. You then don’t fail to notice the Queen's face twist to something you can read as disbelief and…anger.

“Prince Rhaenar Targaryen, son of the princess.”

You come to a stop before you can reach the unsullied guards standing in front of the steps that lead to the throne, and let go of Rhaenar’s hand to curtsey; while he bows to the Queen.

“My Queen,” you say and return your gaze back on her as you stand up straight. “It is an honor finally getting to meet you.”

“You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of house Targaryen. Rightful heir to the Iron Throne, Rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, The Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, The Unburnt, The Breaker of Chains.” A woman with brown skin, and dark curly hair announces the mouthful of titles that must be a pain in the ass to see each time.

Nevertheless, Queen Daenerys holds your gaze and retorts. “I am sorry I am not rejoiced by your presence. Until now I had no idea you were alive.” She slightly raises her eyebrows as she seems to pierce her glare in you.

You scoff in amusement. “That’s good, it means my uncles did a good job in hiding me from the world that wanted me dead,” you rebuttal confidently and pass a discreet glance at Tyrion. “But I do swear to you on my fathers memory that I am who I say I am. I mean…if I wasn’t would I have come flying on a dragon?” You smirk. Yet no one else finds it so amusing.

“You have no reason to believe me,” you continue. “But I do know people who know of me.” You glance over at Lord Varys standing a bit a ways from the Queen, and make her gaze drift to the man.

“Lord Varys, can you attest to her word? Can you prove that who stands before me really is a niece I have thought long dead?” She asks and looks at you.

The Lord slowly steps forward and stops at the top step to study you from closer.

“Yes, I can,” Tyrion speaks up and walks to the top step. “I can attest to her word. I have met her before. However, back then she went by another name.”

You scoff and nod. “Yes. Back then I went by Sand. I was just another bastard daughter to my uncle Oberyn Martell, but it was for my own safety. After all, it is his family who wanted me dead.”

Tyrion nods and accepts your accusation. “Yes. It was my family.”

You clench your jaw and let out a deep sigh.

“Her uncle died for me,” Tyrion continues. “He was a good man. That is why I trust her word.”

The Queen slowly stands up from the chair and begins to head your way, yet she stops at Tyrion’s side. “If it is you. If you do have a dragon, where have you been this entire time?” She asks you.

You clasp your hands in front of you and part your lips to speak, but then Lord Varys speaks up before you could. “She was hiding, by her uncle's demand. Sworn to keep her identity a secret until the right time came. As was I.”

The Queen shifts her head to the side to look at her Lord.

“She is who she says she is. She is Princess Visenya Targaryen, daughter of your brother Rhaegar Targaryen. She is blood of your blood, My Queen.”

You shake your head and correct them. “No. It’s Y/N. Not Visenya. Not anymore.”

The Queen begins to glare at the man for a second before she finally returns her gaze to you and begins to step down the steps to meet you halfway.

She then continues to study you, to check out the gold dragon scale corset over your red dress, the golden rings on your fingers, the golden snake around your bicep. She looks at your silver-white hair probably trying to see if your hair color was actually real and not fake, or if you were actually real or not. Her eyes then shift to Rhaenar for a brief second before returning to look at you again.

You don’t do anything, you let her take her time, and take this time to study her too; to realize how beautiful she is, how tiny she is as well now that she’s not sat on the throne.

“Who might you be?” The Queen breaks her silence and looks back at Rhaenar.

Said boy bows and then tries his best to once again hide his Dornish accent. “I am Prince—”

You clear your throat to correct him, making the Queen glance at you in confusion before returning to look at your boy.

“I am Prince Rhaenar Sand, your Grace,” he shares in his normal voice, and this time you glance at him slightly concerned since he refers to himself as Sand.

The Queen scoffs softly and her lips are just faintly showing a smile. “Sand?” She questions.

Rhaenar nods. “I am a bastard,” he tells her, making you sigh.

“And like I have told him before,” you interject. “That does not matter. That does not change who you are descended from.”

Daenerys nods. “Your mother is correct,” she agrees in your defense. “You are still the blood of the dragon aren't you? You are a Targaryen first and foremost.”

Rhaenar shrugs. “I suppose.”

The Queen offers a soft laugh before she looks at you. “Let’s take a walk.”

You nod, and without a fault when you walk out, the curly headed woman, the Unsullied, and the Dothraki warriors follow you out and walk behind you like lurking shadows. It’s something you have never grown unaccustomed to after your years of being somewhat free in Dorne.

“What’s your dragon's name?” The Queen asks once you’re out of the castle and walking up a stairwell that leads to some place you can’t see yet.

“Her name is Eraxis,” you share with a faint smile.

Queen Daenerys eyes snap to you, and you catch her surprise at your comment.

“Your dragon is a female?” She questions.

You nod. “Yes. She is. Or at least that’s what I like to say, I don’t think we can really place a gender on a dragon.” You smile.

The Queen nods. “Yes, I suppose we can’t.”

A screech sounds from the sky before Eraxis flies down past you. Both the Queen and you look up to watch her, to admire how her white scales glimmer like diamonds against the sun's rays; to watch as she let her large wings soared, and how her horned tail swung to the side as she flew up.

“She’s…quite big,” the Queen points out with an admiring smile. “How old is she?”

Once Eraxis passes, the Queen's black dragon flies past you to follow Eraxis up in the sky.

“She is fifteen,” You answer softly, and catch her swallow thickly before she brings you to a stop so you can watch the both of your dragons as they begin to twirl up to the sky together, like if they’re dancing. Like if they were familiar with one another already.

“It seems Drogon is quite taken by Eraxis already,” the Queen says. “That should be good.”

You rest your hands on the stone before you and nod. “It is. It means Eraxis won’t be alone anymore.” You look down to look at the Queen. “What are the names of your other dragons?”

The Queen drops her gaze and answers, “the green one is Rhaegal, I named him after your father.”

Your smile falters, and your eyes go soft.

“And the gold and cream one is Viserion, named after my brother, Viserys.”

Ah. Him. The youngest brother. The uncle you only have one memory of, and it’s not a pleasant one.

“If I may ask,” the Queen continues. “How was Eraxis born to you?”

The story is something you hardly know how to explain to make it sound sane. Yet it is one people ask for a lot.

“To be honest,” you laugh softly. “It’s going to sound funny, but…” you avert your gaze and begin messing with your rings. “…a dream…”

You hear the Queen's feet shift against the stone ground at the sound of your comment.

“…it was a dream I scarcely remember anymore. But it was of my dragon being born from fire and blood.” You let out a deep breath and slowly look up to once again meet her gaze. Now you notice her look slightly disbelieved.

“It was fate then,” the Queen interjects softly.

You shrug and smile faintly at your rings. “Perhaps.”

You could tell her what you did to have the egg hatch, every detail. You can tell her that even if you don’t recall every detail of the dream, you still have a fragment of it painted so it could keep your mind from clouding at that time.

Yet you don’t.

At least it doesn’t seem so fit yet. Instead you let the conversation drift, you let her continue to lead you up the steps. And it’s now that you can see you’re being walked to some green cliffs where you spot her two other dragons resting.

“I have heard a lot of great things about you, not only because I have made it my job to keep myself informed, but word travels. I am more than in awe, I am fascinated,” you share sweetly, and make her smile a lot more timidly.

Yet when you reach the cliff her smile begins to falter, a serious and almost threatening look paints on her face as she comes to a stop and faces the ocean.

“If you have been alive this whole time why have you not tried to take what’s yours,” she says seriously. “You have the right claim, you, my brother's last living heir.”

You look away from her and face the ocean as well to watch the horizon as you think of what to say. Something that would sound like you’re not lying. “There’s many reasons, one, I am a woman. My claim is not as strong.”

“But you have a son,” she cuts in.

You nod and peer back at Rhaenar, catching him watching the dragons with awe. “A bastard. In Dorne they might not be shamed, but here they are. They would never accept my son, even if he is my fathers grandson.” You sigh and face her. “There is also time,” you reveal carefully. “My uncle had a plan, we couldn’t just risk ourselves by flying down to Kings Landing and burning everything. We needed a lot of time, ally’s, and resources. I actually was meant to marry your brother, but,” you scoff with a playful smile on your face, and catch her stare. “Before the proposal was officially announced, well, we heard the news he passed.”

The Queen scoffs and smirks. “Maybe it was a good thing,” she interjects, making you slightly furrow your brows in confusion. “I loved my brother, but I don’t think he would’ve made a good husband. Especially not to someone who already had a dragon before him.”

You laugh softly. “Is that so?” You query. “Well I for one was quite excited. More so for the promise of seeing the family I thought I had lost.”

The Queen lowers her gaze before she goes serious again, letting you continue.

“Anyway, before much else could be done my uncle…died, and the dream died with him.” You swallow thickly and let out a deep sigh. “Albeit, I can’t say I ever shared his dream, that's another reason I haven’t tried to claim what’s “mine”. I never had a desire to rule. Not after what happened. That’s why I have not taken the throne, that’s why I am here. Why, I sent Dorne to ally with you.” You meet her gaze and raise your head proudly.

“I don’t want the throne for myself. I want to help you take it,” you share confidently. “I want to take back what is ours with fire and blood, I want Cersei to pay for what her family did to mine. I know,” you sigh. “You have no reason to trust me, but know that I am done hiding and tired of doing nothing. I want my son to be proud of me, I don’t want him to hide anymore either. I just want to help you, at your side, united like family. Just like how Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters did, together.”

Daenerys continues to look at you with a threatening and piercing glare, she lets out a deep breath and looks past her shoulder. And without saying anything both her dragons walk over, causing Rhaenar to step back. When her dragons stand behind her you see the same burning, piercing glare that their mother carries.

“If it’s true, bend the knee,” she orders in a menacing tone. “Swear to me that you nor your son will go against me, that you will fight alongside me and help me win this war to take back what belongs to our family. Swear to me, Y/N Targaryen, and you and your son will have a place in my court. You will keep your title as Princess, your son as Prince. If not….” She pauses and her dragons begin growl. Yet you don’t react out of fear, you hold her gaze and stay calm.

“…I would hate to consider my last living relatives as traitors.” She finishes.

You look back at Rhaenar, and he meets your gaze, and together without hesitation you get down on one knee and look up to meet her gaze. “I swear to you,” you assure her. “I swear I will have no ill intentions. I will not fight against you. I will fight at your side.”

Daenerys begins to smirk and continues to walk over to you to offer you her hand. You’re confused at first, but when you take it she helps you up to your feet and keeps you in front of her for a moment, before she pulls you in for an embrace.

You’re caught off guard for a brief second, but once you feel her grip tighten you return the embrace and clutch onto her with relief, and joy.

Finally after years, here she is. You’re finally together.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

Nights were already hard to sleep. Returning to Dragonstone sounded like it could be a solution to your restless nights, to the nightmares that plague your mind, but the bitter night air made it harder. There was some reassurance in the morning when you woke up and saw that meeting Daenerys wasn’t some fever dream. She was real.

As slow as things are between her and you currently considering you only just met, she was a comfort, that instant familiarity. Plus, you shared the restless night and got to speaking about everything you were missing about her current progress of the war, you spoke of other mindless things until the sun broke the sky. After the sun started to rise from the earth, you shared a mutual craving and spent no time finding your dragons.

“What’s on Eraxis back?” Daenerys points to the saddle on your dragon's back as she lowers her neck down to the ground.

“A saddle,” you say slowly and find it surprising she had to ask. “I can’t ride her bareback, not anymore at least, I have the scars on my thighs to prove that,” you laugh softly and approach Eraxis to grab one of her many horns that align her neck. “It helps me steer her too. And since Rhaenar rides her with me, I had it made so he wouldn’t fall off.”

Daenerys approaches Eraxis and then glances at you. “May I?” She asks and points to your dragon's body.

You nod, and watch Daenerys turn and begin to smile at your dragon as she carefully begins to stroke a part of her neck.

“I find it quite easy to ride Drogon with no saddle,” she shows off, making you scoff in amusement. “Then again it’s not like I have had much of an education besides what feels natural, and the few books I did have.”

You hum and smile at her. “Well don’t worry, I am here now. I can teach you all I’ve learned about our family.”

Daenerys eyes drift to you and her gaze softens as a softer smile appears on her lips.

“Now,” you say playfully and begin to climb onto Eraxis. “Let’s fly, yes?” You smirk down at her, and Daenerys begins to grin before she rushes over to Drogon to climb on him.

Since this won’t be a long flight, you don’t bother restraining yourself on her, you just climb on your saddle and grab your handles before you speak to Eraxis in High Valyrian. “<Fly, girl.>”

Without hesitation Eraxis begins to run off the hill, and Drogon follows, creating thunderous stomps on the green hill until both dragons flap their wings and take flight.

At first Daenerys and you are riding side to side, glancing once at one another with playful looks as both dragons gain more momentum and fly higher. However, it’s once Eraxis reaches the clouds that you turn her to her side, exposing her belly to Drogon, before you then drift to the left to hide within the clouds.

Drogon calls out for Eraxis, most likely to know her whereabouts, but Eraxis stays quiet and flaps her wings, blowing air and clouds behind her before she twirls upward rapidly and shoots out above Drogon. Once again the black dragon calls out, and this time Eraxis responds. You then lift your body off the saddle to peek down, catching Daenerys urge Drogon forward so she could lead, instead of being right under you.

You grin at the action and push the handle forward, causing Eraxis to flap her wings harder and get ahead of Drogon with ease. Daenerys looks up and sees, and then as if they have been mentally communicating, Drogon flies up.

Before they both could lose them, you motion Eraxis to fly up as well. Now both dragons have their bellies exposed to one another as you all fly up.

The dragons screech, and you snicker before you lean forward and exclaim happily, “<Dracarys!>”

Eraxis blows out a cloud of fire, and as Drogon was going to approach it, you make Eraxis drift to the side so you both could then begin diving down.

Daenerys doesn’t notice you flying in front of her anymore until she’s past the fire cloud. And when she sees you and Eraxis diving down, she beams and makes Drogon do the same.

Since gravity is what is pulling you down, Daenerys and Drogon don’t take long to catch up, but Eraxis and you do end up beating her to the surface of the ocean water. Albeit before Eraxis could splash in, she instead flies up and only lets her body barely skim above the water, creating ripples on the surface as she flies past.

Drogon and Daenerys on the other hand drift to the side and he skims the tip of his wing in the water as he flies at his side. When he fixes himself he then flies at your side, letting Daenerys and you turn your heads to smile at one another.

Now as little as you have known one another, there was a sense of a connection no one else can understand. For the first time you both could share the joys of flying with another soul, for the first time it wasn’t just the two of you alone in the skies with your dragons. It was now you and her. Her and you. Together.

However, as you flew, as you got closer to the castle, you could now spot Dorne, Greyjoy, and Tyrell ships sailing to Dragonstone. Daenerys sees them too, but instead of flying above them like you, she flies ahead without you. Yet you don’t stay just above them for long, you instead fly to the first Dorne ship leading the way and stay flying by it.

And since only the people you were truly closest to, and a few trusted guards knew of Eraxis, those who didn’t gawked as they saw you on a dragon, and as they literally saw a dragon. Those who did know about Eraxis however, like Tyene, looked excited and happy to see her again. Your other sisters climbed out to deck to watch Eraxis too, but unlike Tyene, they watched with more calm and collected demeanors.

Once you landed on the sand to wait for them to get to shore, Tyene shares that same excitement for your dragon when she arrives. She didn’t even bother to greet you.

“Eraxis!” She exclaims and rushes past you to reach Eraxis. And since Tyene, Nymaria, Tyrstane, and Obara helped you raise her, Eraxis was comfortable around their presence and didn't fail to let herself get caressed.

“This is where you wanted to come to so badly?” Nymeria asks in a teasing manner as she and Obara approach you after they climb off the boat.

You look back at the castle gates and nod. “This is where I was born…albeit I do prefer Dornes heat, and the Water Gardens.”

“It’s very bland,” Obara doesn't hold back from saying.

You hum as you can’t help but agree since you are used to more color because of where you were raised.

“How is it going?” You hear your late uncle's paramour, Ellaria, ask as she approaches all of you.

You glance at her and swallow thickly before you speak. “Good. I’ve made peace with my aunt, we were just bonding.” You meet her gaze briefly, but can’t stand looking at her for too long because all you see when you look at her is her with a knife in your uncle's stomach; all you can see is his death, you remember him dying in your arms after you were too late to save him.

You remember pain and grief, and feel it all over again. Ellaria is only alive now because of the love your uncle Oberyn had for her, you only tolerate her because she's Tyene’s mother. Otherwise she would no longer be here.

“Rhaenar is inside,” you say and look back at your sisters. “He’s excited to see you all again. It’s as if he hasn’t seen you in months.”

Obara smirks at the mention, and before you could spend more time out in the chilly air they follow you inside.

——

*LATER*

“If you want the Iron Throne, take it,” Yara Greyjoy tells Daenerys, making her turn to face the table you're all gathered around. “We have an army, a fleet, and four dragons now. We should hit Kings Landing now. Hard. With everything we have. The city will fall within a day.”

You scoff to yourself and drop your gaze to the table.

“If we turn the dragons loose, tens of thousands will die in the firestorm,” Tyrion protests.

“It’s called war,” Ellaria interjects. “You don’t have the stomach for it, scurry back into hiding.”

You roll your eyes and proceed to lift your leg over the other.

“I know how you wage war,” Tyrion snaps. “We don’t poison little girls here. Myrcella was innocent.”

“She was a Lannister. There are no innocent Lannister’s,” Ellaria says, and to some degree you can agree with her. But not about what she did, not about Myrcella; like Tyrion said she was innocent, she was also never cruel, not to you, not to Rhaenar. You can understand Tyrion’s anger. Yet you can’t accept their bickering, not if you’re meant to be ally’s now.

“My great regret is that Oberyn died fighting for you,” Ellaria continues to spat, finally causing you to cut in.

“Ellaria, that's enough. Please. Tyrion is the hand of the Queen, you will treat him with respect.” Without bothering to look back you glance over at Tyrion and sigh. “More so because we both know my uncle died fairly. Tyrion is no one to blame for my uncle's carelessness. Besides…” you peer back to side eye her. “You would find it wise to try and forgive him just as I have forgiven you for what you have done.”

There is a bit of silence for a lingering second before Ellaria talks back. “Yes, Princess.”

You hum and let the meeting continue.

“I am not here to be Queen of the ashes,” Daenerys finally inputs.

“That’s very nice to hear,” Lady Olenna of House Tyrell interjects. “Of course, I can’t remember a Queen who was better loved than my granddaughter. The common people loved her. The nobles loved her. And what is left of her now? Ashes. Commoners, nobles, they’re all just children, really. They won’t obey you unless they fear you.”

You glance down, clasp your hands over your knee and let out a small sigh. “May I add something?” You interject and gain everyone’s attention.

“Go on,” Daenerys encourages you.

You sit back and share what comes to mind. “A century back, when our ancestors were fighting amongst each other in the Dance of Dragons…it’s those same commoners that raided the Dragonpit and killed our dragons.” You glance at Daenerys, and then at Lady Olenna. “And I know for damn sure that dragons were feared back then as they are now. Burning Kingslanding down will turn everyone against us. We have to be smarter. We have to make them fear us without killing the people.”

Daenerys nods in comprehension and pulls her gaze away from you to look at Lady Olenna. “I’m grateful to you, Lady Olenna, for your counsel,” Daenerys says. “I’m grateful to all of you. But you have chosen to follow me, I will not attack King's Landing. We,” she makes her word clear. “Will not attack King's Landing.”

You nod in agreement, but Lady Olenna on the other hand doesn’t seem so convinced.

“Then how do you mean to take the Iron Throne?” She questions. “By asking nicely?”

“We will lay siege to the capital surrounding the city on all sides,” Daenerys shares. “Cersei will have the Iron Throne, but no food for her army or the people.”

“But we won’t use Dothraki and Unsullied,” Tyrion adds after your aunt. “Cersei will try to rally the Lord of Westeros by appealing to their loyalty.” He begins to walk around the table as he continues to speak. “Their love for their country. If we besiege the city with foreigners, we prove her point. Our army should be Westerosi.”

“And I suppose we’re providing the Westerosi?” Ellaria questions,

Tyrion nods. “You are,” he agrees. “Lady Greyjoy will escort you home to Sunspear.”

You slowly begin to put your leg back and lean in as your interest is piqued.

“And her Iron Fleet will ferry the Dornish army,” Tyrion continues, “back up to King's Landing. The Dornish will lay siege to the capital alongside the Tyrell army. Two great kingdoms United against Cersei.”

“So,” Lady Olenna quips. “Your master plan is to use our armies. Forgive me for asking, but why did you bother to bring your own?”

Tyrion places down a dragon figurine that represents Daenerys and her people as he begins to explain and walk again. “The Unsullied will have another objective. For decades House Lannister has been the true power in Westeros. And the seat of that power is Casterly Rock. Greyworm—” you have learned that he is one the Queen's most trusted war advisors, and the commander of the Unsullied army, an old friend now to describe it better.

“…will dial for the Rock and take it,” Tyrion continues and knocks down a lion figure to place down the dragon, leaving a silence to linger thereafter as everyone takes in what was explained.

Yet, it’s you who breaks that silence rather quickly to comment on something else. “In regards to the upcoming siege on Kings Landing, I will meet up with them on Eraxis.”

Both Lady Greyjoy, and Ellaria turn their heads to look at you, and agree with their look alone.

Yet...“no, that would not be wise,” Tyrion interjects. “People still believe you’re dead, Princess. We can use that to our advantage.”

You scoff and argue, “what better way to reveal myself than to stand with my people? Cersei’s fleet will be there as well, I will fight with my people.”

Tyrion looks back at Daenerys to share a quick look before they look to Lord Varys, and all come to a speechless agreement.

“Go then,” Daenerys says. “When the day comes you can meet with the army and stand to fight alongside them.”

You offer her a kind smile and nod. “Thank you, my Queen.”

Daenerys offers you a nod herself, and then rather than letting the meeting proceed you share one more question.

“What about the North? Have we heard anything from the King?”

Lord Varys steps forward and responds this time. “No. Not yet.”

You hum and sit back to continue on the matter. “Well, as we well know, the North is made up of proud people. The Starks as well have just taken back their house, what will we do if they want to keep being an independent Kingdom?”

“You have dragons,” Lady Greyjoy interjects.

You scoff. “So did Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters when they wanted Dorne to pledge their allegiance to them. What did we do? We resisted for years.” You remind them.

Daenerys slightly narrows her gaze and questions your comment. “What is it you’re trying to say then?”

You begin to smirk and meet her gaze. “Well if they come on their own accord. Listen to them. I doubt they’ll come just to bend the knee, no, they probably want something. If they resist.” You pause briefly. “Then offer them a marriage proposal. What better way to unite the grand Kingdoms than through marriage of the Queen and King?”

Daenerys quirks her brow in disbelief to your suggestion, and Tyrion speaks for her. “That could work. Winter is among us. They will need food for their people, what better way to sway them than to bargain. It will be hard to decline.

Daenerys swallows thickly and interjects. “I hear you, Princess. I agree, but we will decide what to do when the time comes.”

You hesitate before you nod agreement, causing the silence to return for a moment before Daenerys continues to interject. “Do I have your support?”

Lady Greyjoy steps up first. “You have mine,” she adds.

Without hesitation you follow, “Dorne is with you, Your Grace.”

Lastly Olenna nods agreement, and with that this meeting is settled.

“Thank you all,” Daenerys ends the meeting. “Lady Olenna, may I speak with you alone?”

You get out of your seat and walk out of the room alongside Ellaria since you’re both going to the same place.

And it’s a quiet walk at first, you both wait for everyone else to pass by and get out of earshot first. Even then when you were approaching the hall your family was in, neither of you could right away say what you both had to say.

First actually, when you were reaching your chambers, you spoke to the guard bringing in your things. “How are my paintings? Did they make it alright?”

The Dornish guard nods. “Yes, my Lady.”

“Princess,” Ellaria corrects him. “Y/N is a Princess, you shall address her as such.

The guard looks nervously between her and you and immediately bows his head. “My apologies, my Princess.”

You shake your head. “It is quite alright. Go on please.”

The guard nods. “Neither your, nor the…Prince’s items got damaged.”

You offer him a faint smile. “Thank you,” you say and then continue to the hall.

This time Ellaria finds the courage to speak. “How can you not be angry? How can you even look at him after what he’s done to your family?”

You sigh and begin to mess with the rings on one hand. “You know why, Ellaria. He is not mine to make leave, nor is he at fault for my uncle's death. You have accepted the facts of his death. We were there that day, we saw.” You glance over at her, and she meets your gaze. “In regards to…my mother and siblings, it is other Lannisters I set my anger on. I suggest you do the same if you want to keep having a chair at that council, I can't let your anger get in the way.”

Ellaria lets her gaze linger on you as she scowls for a brief moment before she nods. “I will try,” she says.

You nod and offer her a faint smile. “That's all I ask,” you tell her before you open the hall doors and make yourselves known to your sisters and your son.

“Mother!” Rhaenar greets and breaks away from his fighting stance to run over and greet you.

You grin down at him. “Hello, my Sunspot, what have you been doing?”

He points back to Obara. “Aunt Obara and I were just training.”

You smirk and ruffle his dark curly hair. “Did she kick your ass?” You tease him as you make your way to the wine tray.

Obara begins to snicker. “He held his own for a few minutes. It is a much better improvement.”

You grab a cup and serve yourself some Dornish wine before walking over to sit with your back facing the fire so it’s easier to face your family. Whilst Rhaenar returns to Obara to pick up the stuff they had around them.

“Dorne will be part of the siege on King’s Landing,” you share with your sisters.

Tyene stands from her chair and begins to smirk. “Are we?” She questions. “Does that mean we can finally kill Cersei?”

You snicker. “I wish it were that easy. Albeit if all goes well, we will be one step closer.”

“Will you accompany us?” Nymeria asks.

You nod and take a sip of wine before speaking. “I will. Once you reach King’s Landing I will go on Eraxis and help fight the enemy fleet.”

“We will be done in no time then,” Tyene says cockily.

You smirk and nod in agreement. You then proceed to take a longer sip of wine, and when you set your cup down you share a thought you've had since you knew you were coming here.

“I have a proposal for you, sisters.” You sit up and look between the three of them. “After this siege, I want the three of you to join me in the fights to come. I want you to be by my side.”

“Like what? Your ladies in waiting?” Obara asks teasingly.

You scoff and shake your head. “Not quite. More so my protectors. I may have Eraxis, but one can never be so sure now that I am going to reveal myself to Westeros again. Of course only if you want, I won’t force you.”

All three girls look at one another, and Tyene looks at her mother before the three of them look back at you.

“I will join you,” Tyene says first. “Father would have wanted us to stick together. Besides,” she begins to smirk mischievously. “It seems there’s a lot of Dothraki men here I would like to get to know.”

You smile, and then look at Nymeria as she interjects. “I will also join your side.”

Lastly, Obara walks over to be in your pherial view and says her response. “I will also join you too, sister.”

“Yes!” Rhaenar exclaims as he runs over to be a part of the conversation. “Does it mean we won’t have to be apart?”

You glance at him and assure him. “Yes. Exactly.”

Rhaenar grins with excitement, causing Tyene to ruffle his hair whilst he turns to face Ellaria. “What about you aunt Ellaria?” He asks. “Will you stay with us?”

Ellaria draws in a deep breath and shakes her head. “No, little warrior,” she sighs. “I will have to stay with our armies. But I will come see you frequently.”

Rhaenar gets comforted by her response and then takes a seat amongst you all.

In the meanwhile you lift your cup of wine and offer a toast. “Thank you, sisters. And to our bond, may it only get stronger.”

All three of them lift their cups and Tyene is the one that interjects with excitement. “To us! And to our battles to come!”

——

*A YEAR BACK*

The doors locked. The windows are sealed.

Why—

Footsteps are approaching the door.

“Rhaenar?” You call out in hopes it’s your son. “Rhaenar, is that you?”

The footsteps stop and a thud sounds at your door. You run back to your door and try to open them again, but to no avail.

“Rhaenar?” You call again and try to peek through the doors creak. But there’s nothing there. You get on your hands and knees to peek at the creek below and see only boots.

“Hey! Let me out! Guards! Let me out!” You yell and jump back up to your feet. “What’s the meaning of this?!” You pound your fists on the door before you begin to kick it. “Let me out! Let me out! Let me out or I will feed you to my dragon!”

There's a shift at the sound of that threat. Yet the damned door remains closed.

“Do you hear me out there? I will feed you to my dragon,” you curse and step back to look around your room for anything that could knock this door down. “Let me talk to my uncle!” You yell as you search your room until you think of your daggers, and sneak over to snatch them from the chest.

“I will give you one more chance,” you sneer and tiptoe back to the door to pick the lock. “Open…” you pause as you hear the lock click. “The door,” you mutter before you throw the doors open, startling the guards that were for some reason placed outside.

“What's going on?” You demand to know from the guards as you point your daggers at them. “Where is my uncle?”

The guard to the right clenches his jaw and gives you an answer. “Go back to your room, Princess.”

You scoff and then lunge at him to throw him back to the wall and point your blade at his throat. “Tell me now,” you sneer and side-eye the other guard who keeps his hands out to show that he won’t hurt you. “What is going on? It’s only a matter of minutes I assume before my dragon comes to me. Should I throw you to her first? Or you,” you point at the watching guard.

“The prince's chambers, he’s there,” the watching guard spits out.

“See,” you scoff and drop your dagger before letting the guard go and stepping back. “Easy. Next time you disobey, I will make Eraxis eat you.” You offer them a sweet smile before you turn and storm over to your uncle's chambers.

And as you pass halls and step outside, guards begin to look at you weirdly, they pass odd looks between one another and give you second looks as they watch you storm past them. The closer you get to your uncle's chambers, the more suspicious they get. They even try to stop you, but you just ignore them and quicken your pace.

Once you begin to see the pool outside his quarters, the guards try to grab you, but you just swiftly slip past them without hassle.

“Princess wait!” One of them yells before you can turn the corner of the patio to reach your uncle's quarters. “Princess!”

He runs after you, and as guards around his pool see you approaching, they unstiffen from their stance and try to rush over to you. Yet you just run past them until you get to the steps of the deck. That’s when you notice the dead Maester and a pool of blood dripping down the steps. As you slowly look up you see Areo Hotah dead next to where Tyene is standing. Next to her is Ellaria pulling a dagger out of your uncle.

“No!” You immediately cry out and gain the attention of your cousin Tyene. “No!” You try to run over to him as he falls to the ground, but Tyene runs over to hold you back. “No!” You sob.

Your uncle Doran flips over and reaches his hand out to you. You try to pull away from Tyene, but guards then help her keep you away.

“When was the last time you left this palace?” Ellaria snaps at your uncle. “You don’t know your own people. Their disgust for you.”

Your uncle begins to cough out blood, but he keeps trying to drag himself away, making you try to squirm with more force to try and reach him.

“Elia Martell, raped and murdered, and you did nothing,” Ellaria spats out, causing you to hit the guards harder. “Oberyn Martell butchered, and you did nothing. You cloud your niece's head with that same ignorance.”

Your uncle flips over again and begins to pant.

“…You’re not a Dornishman. You’re not our prince.” Ellaria finishes spitting out.

“My son Trystane,” your uncle mutters.

Ellaria turns around and scoffs. “Your son is weak just like you. And weak men will never rule Dorne again,” she says spitefully. And finally the guards let you free so you quickly rush over to your uncle and fall down on your knees next to him.

“Uncle,” you cry and cradle him in your arms. “I’m here. I’m here. I will help.”

Your uncle groans, and slowly pulls his bloody hand away from his wound to cup your cheek. “My sweet y/n, you have the power to change the world, do not let vengeance cloud your judgment.”

You sob and shake your head. “I won’t, I swear to you,” you whisper, knowing deep in your heart that there was no saving him anymore.

He lets out labored breath and offers you a wobbly smile. “You have your mothers smile, you know that?” He whispers. “Smile for me, one last time, will you?”

A sob escapes your lips, but you muster a wobbly smile before he takes his last breath and drops his hand from your cheek.

“No,” you mutter as tears stream down your face, and your heart feels as if someone had just stabbed it. “No, no, no!”

“It was for your own good,” you hear Ellaria say from behind you. “Now you can come out of your uncle's shadow. You can finally fulfill your destiny and take back what is yours!”

You swipe your hands over your uncle's eyes to close them, and then slowly put him down.

“Now you can stop living in fear,” she continues.

You let out a shaky breath and drop your head, choosing to ignore her, choosing not to act out on your desire to stab her through the heart.

“Y/N,” she mutters and grabs your shoulder. “Now…” she trails off as the sound of flapping wings sounds from the sky only seconds before Eraxis reveals herself and lands down on the ground, only barely managing to fit her body in the courtyard.

You keep staring at the ground regardless and only hear her growl at Ellaria as she stands stiffly behind you.

“Sister!” Tyene cries out, but doesn’t move.

Eraxis breath slowly unfurls out of her nose, blowing back Ellaria’s dress.

“I watched my own mother die,” you whisper in a quivering voice. “Every night in my dreams. Of course I didn’t know what it meant then, I was only four,” you feign a laugh. “And well it was only fragments of her death, pieces I couldn’t place together. Not until years later. And now it lives over and over in my mind.” You stand up from the ground and let out a shaky breath.

“Do you want to know how that feels, losing a mother?” You ask Tyene, and turn, seeing Eraxis keep her eyes pierced on Ellaria.

“Please,” Tyene pleads to you.

“Do not hate your sisters,” Ellaria interjects, making your eyes snap to her. “They had no fault in it. It was all my doing.”

You swallow thickly and slowly begin to walk around her. “Yes,” you say. “I figured as much. Only you are capable enough to fill their heads with poison.” As you reach Eraxis side you pierce your glare on Ellaria as well, mirroring your dragon's same burning glare.

Ellaria scoffs and lifts her head with confidence. “Tell me what you would have done if I hadn’t killed your uncle?” She spats. “He was a plague. You would have kept hiding, kept dying your hair pretending you’re someone you're not, you would have kept hiding your dragon. You would have kept living in ignorance here. It’s time to wake up y/n!”

Perhaps she’s right. Perhaps you have lived your entire life in fear. But she still killed him. And you still couldn’t avoid it.

“I am only sparing your life because of Tyene,” you change the subject, and Eraxis begins to lose her scowl and begins to whimper and lean her head against you. “Betray me again and I will burn you alive.”

Eraxis pulls her snout out the deck and then lifts her head as you walk over to begin mounting her.

Once you’re on your saddle you grab your handles, and Eraxis flies off.

——

*NOW*

“Lower,” you tell Rhaenar and walk over to push his arms down a bit lower. “Pull your arms down.”

The boy sighs. “Uncle Oberyn said this way,” he tries to argue.

You nod and move back. “Yes, I understand, but there are many fighting styles, you have come close to mastering his way, now you must use different tactics,” you advise him and slide your foot back to once again stand in your fighting stance. “If you want to become a great warrior you must know much more.”

Rhaenar sighs and mirrors your stance. He then looks at your blade and lunges, but you quickly change your stance and swipe off his feet.

“That’s no—” Rhaenar cuts himself off and instead pushes himself to his feet.

You drop your head and laugh softly to yourself.

“You did better,” Daenerys tries to assure him as she watches him train—out of simple curiosity she said. “Less complaining this time.”

You chuckle before you turn around and watch the boy scratch the back of his head whilst he walks to grab a spear off the rack.

“Perhaps the young prince could spar with me soon,” Greyworm offers from the Queens side, as he too was curious to watch your morning training session.

You glance at the soldier and then at your son. “How does that sound, Rhaenar, hm? Maybe Greyworm will be a much kinder teacher than I am.”

Rhaenar turns with his spear in hand and offers the soldier a grin that goes from ear to ear. “Yes I would love it!” He exclaims happily.

Greyworm smiles faintly and nods. Daenerys smiles at the boy, and you part your lips to tell him something, but the door then opens and Tyrion and Qhono, the Dothraki Lieutenant, walks in behind him.

“My Queen, Princess,” Tyrion says, and gains the attention of everyone in the room. “Your guest ship has been spotted docking at shore.”

Daenerys nods in comprehension, letting The Hand turn to leave. Qhono albeit lingers and meets your gaze, making you smirk at him before you turn to face Rhaenar. Daenerys catches your interaction but doesn’t say anything about it.

“Go change out of your training clothes,” you tell the boy. “When you’re done go to the Throne room.”

Without argument Rhaenar puts away his sparring weapons and does as he’s told.

Before long you also go and change out of your training outfit, deciding to put on a long red dress that perhaps is too revealing for the chilly weather of Dragonstone. The long matching red cloak that attaches under the golden dragon scales on your shoulders provides some warmth, but then again you never much mind being too cold or too hot in something if it means looking good.

And sure, The King of the North wasn’t yours to impress, if it came to it it’s not you he’d marry, but you still do choose to show off your golden chained gloves that connects to your golden rings, and matches with the golden breast plates that was elegantly carved to go over the dress. You still didn’t choose to cover your exposed chest, or a part of your sides, or your arms. Because the truth is, if it were a choice to choose between armor and dresses, you’d choose the expensive and most beautiful dresses, even for dragon riding.

And well there is maybe Qhono that you are trying to impress.

“Come,” you call Rhaenar over once you walk in the Throne room.

Rhaenar sighs and lets you walk to where he was standing already.

“Your pin is all crooked,” you let him know and unpin the dragon pin to correct it. “There. Better. Handsome.” You pat his shoulder.

Rhaenar rolls his eyes out of embarrassment, making you laugh softly before you fix his hair.

“Mother,” he whispers sharply and pulls back to then glance back at the Queen.

Daenerys catches his embarrassed glance and shoots him a teasing smile.

“Fine,” you scoff lightheartedly. “I’ll go.” You then go and stand in your spot to wait patiently.

Once those doors open, the first one to walk in is Qhono, Tyrion, and Daenerys most trusted advisor Missendei of Naath follow, but you watch Qhono, as he watches you while he walks past you. You don’t notice the King of The North right away, not even when Missendei says all of Daenerys titles, you instead then look at your rings when Qhono is out of sight until you hear your name.

“…and the Princess Y/N Targaryen Martell, Princess of Dorne, daughter of late Prince Rhaegar Targaryen.”

You finally blink and look up, finally taking in the sight of the King of the North, and noticing that his eyes are already on you. They were on you for most the time he’s been in here but you didn’t notice, not until now.

Until now you see that he isn’t as tall as you imagined Northern men to be, he isn’t as musclary built, or as hairy. He’s quite small, more lean. His hair is dark, as dark as perhaps a moonless night. His eyes aren’t rough, they’re soft and a very pretty dark brown you can get lost in. He has soft features, scars on his face that he wears more than well.

The King of the North is handsome and breath-catching. Much to your surprise.

“And Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, son of the princess.” Missendei finishes introducing everyone that she needed to, leaving a very long silence as the King of the North looks at his advisor.

“This is Jon Snow,” the advisor reveals, letting said man glance at the Queen. “He’s King in the North.”

You smile at the introduction and once again catch the softened gaze of Jon Snow, the King of the North. His gaze lingers on yours, as your eyes linger on him. Neither of you dare to look away, it seems in a way you’re both too mesmerized. For that brief moment until Daenerys spoke up all that existed was just the two of you.

It was such a…weird and new feeling. One you never want to lose.

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