#cowritten with alyssa

[something-tofightfor]

Aphelion - 10

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand

*Please be sure to consider all chapter warnings before reading! Warnings will be updated for each chapter in individual posts as well as on the Masterlist.

Warnings: language, weapons, mentions of unethical medical practices, vampirism, the Lannisters are assholes. 

Word Count: 14,962

Summary: Tyrion Lannister is offering help, but why?  If he can, in fact give you and your friends a much needed advantage, are you going to be able to make the most of it? 

The more you see of Oberyn and his family in action, the more you believe that the answer is yes. 

A/N: Sorry about the delay, friends! A literal year later, and we’re back with a supersized chapter both in terms of word count and content. 

@the-blind-assassin-12​ and I apologize for the delay with this chapter, but we’re back on track now - and already working on the next part. Thank you for sticking around and for reading and sending in asks and comments about this group; we both love them very, very much. 

Also, if you have questions about details or plot points or the way that Westerosi history/world fits into the “real” world- please ask! We don’t want to confuse anyone.

Catch up with the Aphelion masterlist here!

(banner by @valkblue )

“Tyrion Lannister, at your service.” 

Mouth agape in shock, you hurried to shut it as the man before you rose from his low bow. Seven hells and holy shit. That’s…  Wide-eyed and stunned despite what Oberyn had told you about the Lannisters and their ability to cheat mortality, you stared at the man whose portrait you walked past every morning on your way into the office at Golden Lion. 

But that was painted hundreds of years ago. He looks… You blinked, an unnatural chill moving down your spine at your next thought. No. He doesn’t just look the same. 

The roguish curls. The color of his eyes. The scar that sliced diagonally across his face. It was as though the man had hopped down from the ornate frame that hung outside the ninth floor conference room and was now standing in front of you.

He is the same. The exact same. 

Before you could ask anyone to explain how it was possible though, Tyrion was speaking again. “Prince Oberyn Martell, Ellaria Sand, Toban Dayne.” He nodded in greeting at each of them. “It is a pleasure to see you all again. You look well. I can’t believe it’s been an age.” He used one hand to gesture towards the woman standing next to him as he went on. “And of course now I’ve met Tyene. But -” He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing as they flicked from where Oberyn’s hand was linked with yours and up to your face before giving you a polite smile. “I’ve not yet had the privilege of making your acquaintance.”

That’s for sure. “I’m… My name is -” You cleared your throat and introduced yourself to the man. “I’m just -”

“She is with me, Lord Tyrion.” Oberyn’s grip tightened as he squeezed your hand, his tone not quite threatening but definitely serious. When you glanced up at him you saw the same was true about the look in his eyes, their dark depths glinting like the edge of a sharpened blade. Oh.  “And she is under my protection.” 

“Oberyn.” Ellaria’s voice came from just behind where the two of you were standing, one hand rising to his shoulder in a move of gentle de-escalation. Tilting his chin down just enough, you saw him watch as her fingers dug into his bicep with light pressure.  “Do not forget that Tyene asked him to come here. He is a guest.” Her grip loosened and she leaned forward to press a kiss to the back of his shoulder. “There is no need for aggression, my love.”  When she dropped her hand to her side and stepped away, Oberyn shifted his eyes back to the smaller man.

“I can assure you that you will not need to protect her - or anyone else here - from me.” He brought both hands to his chest and then opened his palms to the ceiling with a shrug. “We all want the same thing, after all.” As he’d done with everyone else, Tyrion nodded in your direction then. “It is very nice to meet you.” 

“Same to you,” you managed, still slightly awed and confused by his existence. Because it doesn’t… You cut your own thoughts short with the interjection of another one. 

You were only standing where you were because an undead golem creature controlled by one of ancient Westeros’ most powerful families - who were being preserved through some form of blood magic - attacked you in an alleyway before you were rescued by a man dressed in an Oberyn Martell costume that turned out not to be a costume at all, nor was the man just a man but the Prince of Dorne himself and one of the Others, whom you had until that point considered merely part of the pantheon of folklore and children’s stories you’d grown up hearing. 

None of it made any sense. But it’s what’s happening anyway.

“Well, now that we all know one another,” Tyene chimed in, excitement in her voice. “Let’s get to the fun part.” 

“Ah, yes.” Tyrion clapped his palms together, a grin curving up the edges of his mouth. “The fun part.” 

What the hell does that mean? 

You didn’t have to wait long to find out. A few minutes later you were seated at the dining room table next to Oberyn, Toban and Ellaria sitting across from you and Tyrion at the head. This is insane. You were reminded briefly of the silly hypothetical questions that you and Nora would sometimes ask each other for shits and giggles. Those questions included things like, “If you could have dinner with any five people living or not, who would it be and why?” She would never fucking believe this, even if I could tell her. 

What started as a silly thought smacked you in the face as you realized that you might never get to tell your friend about any of it - and that she might never get to meet Oberyn. Another layer of realization peeled away and you tried not to think about the very real possibility that you might never even see her again. 

No. Your eyes closed, the lids creasing from how tightly you squeezed them shut. No.You opened your eyes again, making a decision. I will see you again, Nora, and we’ll go get burgers from that place by your office, and - 

Your plans for a reunion were interrupted by the sound of Oberyn’s voice, just above a whisper, speaking your name. Hmm? Blinking, you turned to find him watching you, a look of cautious concern on his face. Oh, shit, I need to - “Are you alright?” Beneath the table your hand was still held securely in his, his thumb sweeping lightly over your knuckles. “You seem…” His eyes narrowed as he searched for the right word, but you didn’t give him the chance to find it. 

I need to focus on what’s happening here. Now. Wrinkling your nose, you gave a small shake of your head and shifted your joined hands from your lap to his, resting them on his thigh. “I’m fine, Oberyn. Just -” You tilted your head inconspicuously towards Tyrion, the blond man engaged in amicable small-talk with Toban. “It’s a lot to take in.” 

That wasn’t a lie. Sitting down with Tyrion Lannister and hatching a plan to dispatch the rest of his family was a lot to take in. It wasn’t the entire truth, either, but you knew that it wasn’t the time to discuss the things that had just crept into your thoughts. Later. We can talk about that later. 

His lips parted, the tip of his tongue slipping out to dampen them. Before he could say anything else though, Tyene breezed into the room carrying a plastic tray of sliced fruit, half of the torn price sticker still stuck to the edge. What is she… Oh. Your eyes widened in recognition of the ancient Westerosi custom. Despite the things currently weighing on your mind, you let out a small huff of laughter. I mean, yeah. I guess that counts. 

“Okay.” Setting it down next to Ellaria, she pushed it with just enough force so that it slid the length of the table to stop in front of Tyrion. “We served you food and gave you shelter.” She pointed to the ceiling and swirled her finger around as the man she was speaking to reached for a bright yellow slice of mango, an amused quirk to his lips. “And we’re not the fucking Freys, so -” 

Nearly choking on the mouthful of fruit he’d bitten into in an attempt to mask a snort, Tyrion managed to swallow. A small smirk drew its way up the side of his face as he spoke, keeping his eyes on Tyene. “While I do appreciate the gesture - and the refreshments - I already trust everyone present with my life.” One eyebrow jumped as he cocked his head to the side and blindly plucked a grape from the platter, popping it into his mouth. “And that is more than I can say about…well, anyone else that I know.” 

Tyene shot back a smirk of her own, pulling out the chair next to Ellaria and dropping into it in one fluid motion. “Still,” she revealed a small cluster of grapes she must have taken from the tray before sending it in the opposite direction. Lifting it to her mouth, she stopped short of taking a bite to finish speaking. “Can’t hurt. Traditions and shit, right?” At that, she closed her teeth around one plump purple grape and plucked it from the stem. 

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” 

“Perhaps what you could say better, Lord Tyrion-” Oberyn reached forward and grabbed a handful of berries from the tray, popping one in his mouth as he continued. “Is exactly what it is that you are here to discuss.”  

“Yes,” Ellaria agreed. “We are all very eager to hear what you have to say.” She raised one eyebrow and turned in Tyene’s direction. “And why Tyene asked you to come here to say it.”

You knew that Ellaria trusted Tyene completely, so she wasn’t openly questioning her judgment in bringing the man - a Lannister, and by all rights and titles a sworn enemy of the Others - into their safehouse. She’s just not sure how much trust to put in him. Glancing sideways at Oberyn, you saw the same seemed to be true for him. Even though he admitted that Tyrion wasn’t like the rest of them… he’s… 

You watched him pop another berry between his teeth, his eyes never leaving the guest of the evening. He’s hesitant to call him an ally. Considering everything he’d gone through at the hands of Tyrion’s family, though, you couldn’t blame him. Beneath the table, where your hand was still clasped in his, you stroked your thumb over his skin. 

Tyrion chuckled. “Direct and to the point as ever, I see.” He sighed. “Alright, then, no need to draw it out.” Sitting up straighter, he cleared his throat and began. “As you know, there are, and always have been, several people who would love nothing more than to see my dear siblings and our illustrious father relieved of their heads.” He drew one finger in a line across his throat, an exaggerated grimace pulling his mouth down and to the side as he sucked air through his teeth. Clicking his tongue, he cocked his head to one side before swinging it back and forth in a small shake.  “And I’m sure that all of them are well within their rights to want them dead.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you caught Tyene’s small nod, one of her eyebrows raised in an amused arch as she smirked at Tyrion. She had one knee bent and propped against the armrest of her chair, that foot perched in her lap. She seems to agree with him. From what you knew about Cersei, Jaime and Tywin - the originals, anyway - you didn’t doubt it to be true. Especially if they’re just as awful now as they were back then. 

You had studied the Great Wars of Westeros as part of your job. And you knew that no matter how well hidden the true perpetrators and instigators had been, many of the major shifts in power had all boiled down to Lannister machinations. Betrayals, assassinations, bribes and broken promises were par for the course when it came to that family’s lineage. 

When it was all said and done, the number of lives destroyed or cut short by the cruelty and greed of one house numbered in the millions. And if they’re still at it… There was no telling how many more people - humans and Others alike - had suffered or died because of them. It made your stomach twist to consider. They have to be stopped. 

You shifted your eyes from Tyene to Ellaria, trying to gauge what she was thinking now that Tyrion had started to reveal his motives. Though she was sitting back in her chair with her elbows and forearms crossed and resting flat against the table in a relaxed position, the expression she wore was anything but neutral. She looks… Her dark eyes were narrowed in a glare - not at the man who was speaking, but at the words he was saying, and her upper lip twitched into something close to a snarl. The woman looked as frightening as you first feared her to be. Like she’s ready to kill someone. 

But then, almost before that thought finished crossing your mind, Toban’s hand slid down from the back of the chair she sat in to land on her shoulder, the contact wordlessly soothing her. His large palm skated down to her bicep, and if you weren’t looking, you would have missed the small sigh that she released, her eyes closing for half a second. When they opened again they were still sharply focused on Tyrion, but there wasn’t as much unbridled hatred burning in them. 

Oh, that’s interesting. You wondered if Toban had some kind of gift or if his ability to so easily calm Ellaria had to do with the strength of the bond between them. Making a mental note to add that to the growing list of new things that you’d need to ask Oberyn the next time the two of you were alone together, you turned in his direction at the sound of his voice. 

“Yes,” he responded, laying his left arm on the table and leaning slightly over it, his right hand still wrapped around yours under the wooden ledge. His brow was slightly wrinkled in thought, chin inclined so that he could look at a downward angle through the fringe of his dark lashes at Tyrion. Is this what he looked like back then, when he had to represent the Martells in a royal capacity?

There was none of Tyene’s smug confidence, Toban’s ease or Ellaria’s blind rage in Oberyn’s expression, and you realized that was because he was very seriously weighing everything that the man seated across from him was saying. He trusts him. At least enough to hear him out. 

“Yet they are still alive.” The hand on the table curled into a fist and he knocked his knuckles once against the sleek surface. “Still drawing breath, still able to return, and still in control of their fucking Mountain.” He shook his head. “H-” 

“They are indeed.” Tyrion’s tone was blunt and hard. “But that is only because no one has ever had more cause to want them dead, nor more of a chance at making that happen than the people sitting in this room. Myself included.” He released a breath before scrubbing a hand over his hair. “And I know how to kill them. For good.”  

Silence fell over the room then as everyone considered Tyrion’s words. They were true, and you knew it. Your eyes moved slowly around the space, landing briefly on each person at the table. 

Ellaria had made enemies of the Lannisters thousands of years ago when she first denied them the gift of eternal life, and had been fighting them off ever since. For the first time since she came through the door of the other apartment, you noticed something that looked like exhaustion flicker across her features. You tried and failed to quantify the toll it would take on someone - immortal or not - to endure centuries of contention, of always waiting for and trying to anticipate Tywin or Cersei’s next move. What Tyrion was suggesting would finally free her of that. 

Your eyes traveled to Toban next. He had been thrust into the feud from the start, simply because Ellaria had chosen him over a Lannister to be her first. From the moment his second life began, he’d been at risk of attack, constantly looking over his shoulder and Ellaria’s. Maybe that’s why he seems so calm about it all now. Because it’s all he knows. That thought saddened you. But if Tyrion’s plan was successful, Toban might finally get the chance to know peace. 

Blinking, your gaze shifted to Tyene. Though she was actually hundreds of years old, her young features were forever frozen in time. For once, she had discarded the tough persona and you saw something in her eyes that looked like innocence. She, like Toban, had inherited this blood feud from Ellaria. But by the time she became an Other, Oberyn had also been steeped in it for centuries, so unlike Toban, Tyene had had to watch both of them suffer along with being hurt by it herself. In a way, her very creation was a product of it. She deserved a chance to get out from under that cloud, and Tyrion was presenting the best chance she’d been given yet. 

Unshed tears laced with anger and ache and even hope stung the corners of your eyes as they finally landed on Oberyn. For him the feud had begun while he was still human. He’s known the hurt in both lives. It began before he’d even had an opportunity to mourn the loss of his sister, his niece, and his nephew. 

Though he’d told you a little about what things were like for him once he was changed, and you knew that he’d enjoyed plenty in his second life, you also knew that every joy he experienced was limited, dulled even if only slightly by the fact that until this feud was done, he would never truly be able to have what he desired most. 

You swallowed and drew in a breath that shook on the way out. If Tyrion was right and the Lannisters could be killed once and for all, then he might finally not have have his revenge, not only get justice for Elia and her children - but at the same time, create the opportunity to live the rest of his life more fully than he’d ever allowed himself to before. 

And that’s what I want for him, too. It’s what I want for all of them. 

When the silence was finally broken, you were surprised to hear Toban speak up first. “Powerful talk, Lord Tyrion.” His voice had a quality that made it sound as though he was always smiling, even when he wasn’t. “But if you know how to kill them, then why haven’t you done so?” Lifting one hand, he gestured towards Oberyn but kept his focus on the man he was speaking to. “Why did you wait until they almost killed one of us?” 

There was something almost protective in the way that Toban asked that question, like an older brother looking out for his younger sibling. Though you’d been somewhat unsure of what to make of him at first, it was clear that he cared about Oberyn, and not only because of how important he was to Ellaria.  And that makes Oberyn’s reaction so much more interesting.

“It isn’t talk,” Tyrion countered. “But it is powerful.” He interlaced his fingers, placing his joined hands on the tabletop. “Unlike my father who has always measured power in coin, or my sister who counts it in cruelty, or even my brother with all of his ridiculous bravado, I have always known that true power lies elsewhere entirely.” 

“Is that so?” Oberyn posed the question with a contemplative tilt of his head. Tyrion raised a brow and lowered his chin. “And where is it that you have found power, then?” 

Leaning forward, the other man grinned. “In knowing things, Prince Oberyn. And in knowing the right people.” He brought his fingertips to his chest. “I know things.” Tyrion circled his hands outward to the group gathered around the table, making sure to make brief eye contact with everyone - including you. “And you are the right people to share those things with.” 

“Now is not the time to play coy with us, Lannister.” Ellaria’s tone was serious, but not harsh. “If you have something to say, speak.” 

Tyene clicked her tongue and reached to snatch another piece of pineapple from the tray. “She’s right, Tyrion. Enough with the opening statements, this isn’t an HBO courtroom drama.” Despite the tension that hummed around the table, you had to hold back a snort of laughter. She took a bite of the fruit she held, chewing through her next words before popping the rest of the bright yellow chunk into her mouth. “Tell them what you told me.” Shooting her eyes over to meet first with Ellaria’s, and then with Oberyn’s, she swallowed the bite she took. “Trust me, it’s worth it.” 

“It is.” Tyrion insisted, nodding in Tyene’s direction. “But I do understand the urgency,” he added, giving Ellaria a smile that did nothing to change the expression she wore. I get it though. You stared at the blond man. I want to know what the hell he’s got, too. Because if it’s not… Pressing your lips together, you took a deep breath in through your nose. If whatever he’s about to say doesn’t give them an edge then it’s a waste of time, and time is something we don’t have. 

Without letting another second tick by, Tyrion cleared his throat and finally played his card. “You know very well by now that my family has devised a way to cheat death. When you denied their various attempts to get you to change them, make them immortal like you, Cersei and my father took it upon themselves to find the next best thing.” He cringed, top lip pulling up slightly before he continued. “They turned to a man named Qyburn, a reject from the Citadel who was stripped of his Maester chain for conducting…  immoral experiments on living subjects.” 

Your stomach turned at the thought of what those experiments might entail if they were deemed immoral even by ancient standards. Images of dank dungeons, bodies and parts of bodies on stone slabs, iron tongs, rusted forceps, and substances in vials and bottles filled your mind, along with the pain-filled moans and shrieks of those being poked and prodded and tortured - and you forced them away. I don’t want to know. 

Sparing you any details that weren’t directly related to stopping his family from continuing their reign of terror, Tyrion went on. “Primitive and uncivilized as they were, Qyburn’s methods did yield results, though. He is the one responsible for resurrecting Gregor Clegane from almost certain death during a battle. When that was a success, Cersei immediately tasked him with modifying the process used with the Mountain so that the rest of us could join him in his ability to reawaken.”

“So it’s some kind of dark magic?” Toban asked. “Reanimation?” 

You recalled the monster in the alleyway, a shiver passing down your spine as his blood red eyes blinked back at you in your memory. You tried not to think of how many times that thing had been killed and brought back. Or how many people he’s killed. For the hundredth time since the night of the Golden Lion Halloween party, your thoughts turned to how close you’d come to having your skull caved in by the brute’s giant fists. Without realizing it, you were holding your breath, your grip on Oberyn’s hand tightening until your skin strained at your knuckles. 

He realized it right away though, immediately turning to bring his lips close to your ear, whispering into it. “He won’t touch you again.” You felt the tip of his nose brush the shell of your ear before he left a quick kiss there. “I will keep you safe.” 

You closed your eyes and let out a sigh, nodding. I know you will, Oberyn. 

“Indeed.” Tyrion’s answer to Toban’s question made your eyes snap back open. “Blood magic, to be exact, Ser Dayne.” What? “You could say that it was… inspired by the supernatural properties that your blood carries, actually. Qyburn was able to isolate and synthesize the aspect of the Others’ blood that allows for reparative regeneration. In the case of Gregor, he used it to restore the body. The Mountain can take enough damage to kill a man, even one of his size. But given enough time and rest, he will always come back … and be just as he was before.”

“And what about the rest of them?” The softness he’d just offered you was gone from his voice as Oberyn addressed what Tyrion had revealed. “In the case of Cersei? Of Tywin?” He pursed his lips into a casual frown that deepened the divot between his brows. “You?” 

Flinching, the man swallowed. He knows they’re not going to like whatever he’s about to say. “For the rest of us, he… ah…” Tyrion’s palms came together and his scarred brow furrowed. “He applied the synthetic to the genetic makeup of our blood, to keep it from degrading over time so that it can be… um -” His nose wrinkled, as though his explanation disturbed him as much as it did you. “Given as an infusion at the time of rebirth. It ensures that we will always come back exactly the same physically as well as retain all of our personality traits and memories each time.” 

“Disgusting.” Suddenly, Ellaria was on her feet, palms slamming the table as she snarled. “They’ve desecrated the power of our blood. They -” Her eyes widened, going coal black with realization, lining up events from long ago with the information that had just been shared. “They killed two of our kind. Two of my Children.” Pain flickered across her face then, her voice breaking slightly with hatred and anguish. “For this. To study their blood. Our blood. My blood.” She hissed, sucking in a breath. “They will pay.” 

Toban rose silently, both of his hands wrapping around her wrists to lift them gently away from the table, which you noticed was dented from the force of her blow. He used that grip to pull her closer, easing her into his arms so that her shoulder was nestled against the center of his chest. Sliding his palm up her bicep, he pressed his forehead to her temple and whispered something that you knew Oberyn and Tyene had heard but that was a mystery to you. Not that it’s any of my business. Whatever he had said and the way that he held her seemed to have the effect he hoped for, Ellaria nodding at his words and letting him guide her back into her chair. 

“How?” Toban’s naturally deep voice dropped like a rock with the single word. “How do we stop them? How do we kill them?” 

“It’s actually quite simple.” Tyrion cocked his head to one side and then the other. “Relatively speaking, of course.” He sighed. “If you destroy the vials of original Lannister blood that Qyburn enhanced, you take away their ability to return.” Pausing, he locked eyes with Oberyn. “You make them mortal. And mortals are very easy to kill.” 

Your heart thumped against your ribcage as though it was trying to punctuate Tyrion’s point. We are, though. No super strength or speed, no healing abilities…no second chances. That thought forced another to click. Wait. “But won’t that make you mortal, too?” Every eye in the room snapped in your direction at the sound of your voice. Narrowing your eyes, you shook your head. “Wouldn’t destroying the vials mean that you couldn’t come back either?” How can we be sure we can trust him? Why would he put himself at risk for this? What if it’s a- 

“You’re wondering if I am leading you - or rather, your friends here - into a trap.” It wasn’t a question, it was a keen observation on his part. “Wondering why I would cut off my nose to spite my face, so to speak?” You swallowed, nodding. Yeah. Exactly. You were surprised when Tyrion’s jovial features turned slightly sad, the man releasing a breath. “My family has never been kind to me.” He grimaced, a rut forming between his eyebrows.. “Mostly my father and Cersei but… But Jaime, too. They’ve always been cruel, always made sure that I knew that I was only alive because they needed someone to delegate the lowest duties to. They’ve always found ways to make my many lifetimes feel like a journey through all seven hells. They…” His eyes closed and he gave a small shake of his head before opening them again. When he did, their crystal clear depths were trained on you. “I would rather die one final death than continue to be brought back just so my sister has a spider to pull legs from.” 

“I - “ You shook your head and swallowed. Shit, I wasn’t expecting that. “Tyrion, I’m sorry, I didn’t -” 

When he spoke your name, the sadness was gone from his voice. “If anyone here should be apologizing for anything, it certainly isn’t you.” He sighed. “It’s me. For everything that my family has done to all of you.” With a nod and a scrunch of his nose, he swallowed. “Which is also part of why I am here. It’s not just about how they’ve hurt me or the people I’ve cared for over the centuries.” A darkness clouded his eyes as he stared down at the tabletop. “It’s about all the lives they’ve ruined for their own gain. They -” Curling his fingers into a fist, his nostrils flared as he lifted his chin. “They need to be stopped and I simply cannot do it by myself..” 

“Well,” Oberyn tilted his head to the side and leaned forward in his seat. “You have our attention, Lord Tyrion, and-” He paused, shooting a glance over to Ellaria and registering the small nod she gave. “And, for now at least, you have our trust. Tell us what to do. We are listening.” 

The man blinked twice, a somewhat amused grin on his face. “Two thousand years ago, no one in Westeros would believe that I, Tyrion, scourge of House Lannister, would one day serve as Champion for the renowned warrior Oberyn Martell, but here we are.” 

You could practically feel Oberyn’s eyes roll, and despite the seriousness of the situation, had to bite back another laugh.“We will see about that. Talk.” 

And then, without further delay, Tyrion did.

Holy shit. 

You stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, hands gripping the counter’s edge and your weight leaned over them. The water still ran from the tap into the basin of the sink and you let it, despite having finished splashing your face and the back of your neck minutes earlier. The possible reality of what Tyrion had spent the last forty five minutes positing sent a spike of hope and adrenaline through you, and you tightened your fingers on the ledge, eyes widening.

Holy shit, this could really… You watched the pink tip of your tongue flick out between your lips to wet them, and then blew out a breath. No. This is going to work. 

Through the door you could hear the rest of the group talking, a boisterous laugh that sounded like Tyene’s breaking through the jumble of voices. It seemed like everyone else had also recognized the very real chance that they had to end the feud once and for all, a light hum of positivity almost palpable in the apartment since their unlikely ally revealed his plan. And as much as you knew that you shouldn’t get your hopes up too high, it was hard not to. 

Because it’s perfect. Tywin and Cersei… they’ll never see it coming. 

Tyrion had explained exactly how to catch them by surprise, and you had to admit it was good. As he had said in regards to the types of responsibilities that his father saw fit to delegate to him while his siblings were handed lofty positions within the Golden Lion corporation, this time around he had been tasked with overseeing the retrofitting and maintenance of the sewage, plumbing and electrical systems in all of the company’s properties. The literal shit end of the stick, he had joked. 

But while it had certainly been meant to slight him, Tyrion had taken the job seriously. 

It was boring work, far below his intelligence and capabilities. But he looked at it as he did all things - an opportunity to gain more knowledge than he had previously. He started by acquiring the blueprints of every building - offices, residential, recreational, commercial - that the company owned, familiarizing himself with the systems that were already in place, and reaching out to private contractors that would be able to give him suggestions and estimates on the work that needed to be done. 

For years he picked his way through each project, two more springing up whenever he completed one. Most of what he came across was to be expected when dealing with old buildings. Pipes that needed to be replaced, circuits and fixtures that needed rewiring to comply with modern energy and safety standards. But when one of the blueprints revealed the existence of a hidden vault in the sub-basement level of one of their California research facilities, he knew that he had stumbled on something that his father had no idea he had handed him - the location of the blood vials that allowed their lineage to repeat itself. 

Until then, Tyrion had always been kept in the dark about the whereabouts of the original Lannister DNA. Whether it was because they didn’t trust him to know that information or simply didn’t want him to have it so that they could keep the upper hand, he wasn’t sure. But it didn’t matter once he had that blueprint in front of him, because that was the moment when he realized that the shit end of the stick had for once turned into solid gold. 

Knowing where the vials were kept, though the most important piece of the puzzle, didn’t solve it completely, however. The vault was guarded at all times by Gold Cloak security, and Tyrion was well aware that his strengths did not include fighting. So for a few months he sat on the information, continuing to oversee sewage and electrical projects in other buildings while he thought about how to proceed. 

“But then you turned up looking for Gregor at that costume party, Prince Oberyn,” Tyrion had stated, “and it dawned on me. As bright and as big as the Dornish sun, it dawned on me that you and your companions were exactly who I needed to help me put an end to this.” 

Aside from the fact that you and Oberyn had nearly died following your encounter with the Mountain, it was almost as though the stars were aligning. 

With the Lannisters unsure of where Oberyn was or what state he was in, it was the right time to strike. They likely knew that Ellaria would be with him if he was still alive, because they were aware of the bond between Others and their Children. But they had no idea that Tyene and Toban were also there - nor did they think you were still alive. Because most would have killed me to survive.

“And that gives us an advantage, my friends, because it allows us to be in two places at once.” 

He proposed a two-prong attack then. Since Oberyn and Ellaria had already planned to attend Joffery’s engagement party as a way to show Tywin and Cersei that he had survived the Mountain’s attack, Tyrion suggested that they attend his nephew’s actual wedding, too, citing the fact that all of the Lannisters and Gregor Clegane would be there in one place. At the same time as they were arriving at the wedding venue, you, Tyene and Toban would be entering the underground facility to dispatch the guards and destroy the vials before rejoining Oberyn, Ellaria and Tyrion for your victorious escape - and anything that came with it. 

You knew that Oberyn hated the idea of you being there at all, especially if he couldn’t protect you himself. But you also knew that he understood that it was the best option. He wouldn’t want to leave you alone in the apartment, and he wouldn’t want to send either Tyene or Toban out alone, either. The three of you staying together for that phase of the attack was the best way to keep everyone safe. 

And then it will be over.

Your heart thumped with the nervous, cautious hope of that thought. With one last check in the mirror, you finally turned the tap off and dried your face and hands. Tyrion was getting ready to leave as you stepped out into the hallway, the man telling you once again what a pleasure it was to meet you before wishing you a good night. You said the same back to him, still somewhat stunned that you’d met him in the first place, and then quietly made your way into the living room as everyone else said their goodbyes and finalized the next steps of their plan. 

Stretching your arms above your head to release a small pop from between your shoulder blades, you walked to the window and looked out over the city. Below you and all around you, thousands of people carried on with their lives entirely oblivious to the existence of the Others, and to users of blood magic like the Lannisters. It was absolutely wild to think that just a handful of days ago, you were one of them - and that without the chance encounter at the bar, you would have stayed one of them. 

There’s no going back now. 

You’d had that thought multiple times as your involvement with Oberyn grew deeper. But even as you peered out through the glass at the life you’d never fully be able to return to, another thought backed up the first one - stamped just as firmly in your mind. 

I wouldn’t want to even if I could. 

A pair of quiet footsteps entered the room, and without having to turn you knew who they belonged to. 

You did anyway, though, tearing your eyes away from the window to take him in. When you did, you couldn’t help sucking in a gasp at the sight. He was standing in the center of the room, holding his spear and looking at you, and no matter how stunning the view you’d just abandoned was, what you saw in front of you was far more breathtaking. 

Oh, wow. Look at him.

“Hi.” Clearing your throat, you moved away from the window and towards where he stood. “Did I hear Tyrion leave?”  

Oberyn took a breath, his whole chest rising before he let it back out with a nod. “You did.” 

You hummed, gesturing to the weapon in his hand. “Looks like you’re not wasting any time getting into things.” 

“Ellaria was right when she said that I need to practice with my spear.” His eyes wandered up the shaft of the weapon he held. They lingered fondly on the golden snake coiled around the base of the crooked blade before dropping back to you. “And I will admit that I’ve missed it.”

You nodded. She did say that. Oberyn’s free hand reached for yours and you gave it to him. “I’m sure it’ll be like riding a bike for you.” His thick fingers wrapped around your hand and he tugged you a step closer. 

“Will you come up to the roof with me? There will be more space up there for me to familiarize myself with the movements again, and -” the sound of voices from the foyer carried down the hall, Oberyn’s gaze flicking over his shoulder momentarily. “And at this time of night it will be quiet. So we can talk more. About -” 

“Yes.” The word was out of your mouth in nothing flat. Is he kidding? Of course I want to see that. Your excitement must have been written on your face, because you watched as his expression turned to one of amusement. There’s no hiding it, not from him. You gave him a sheepish shrug. “This apartment is nice, Oberyn. But if you think I would rather stay down here knowing what you’re doing up there?” You scoffed and shook your head. “Absolutely not.” No way I’m missing that, especially if he wants me to be there. “Besides.” You stepped closer and pulled your hand free from his hold so that you could place your palm against his chest. “We definitely have more to talk about.”

“We do.” He leaned in, tongue swiping over his lips as he brought his hand up to your cheek. You felt your heart skip off rhythm and caught the glint in his eyes as he noticed, too. His hum lulled your eyes shut, but before he could close the distance and kiss you, someone else entered the room with a snort. 

“You two do know that there are bedrooms with doors in this apartment, don’t you?” 

Swallowing, you froze and opened your eyes as Tyene breezed into the living room, your face warming rapidly even though you knew she was just fucking with you. Immediately confirming that to be true, she smirked and tossed you a wink as she crossed the room to sink into one of the plush armchairs, a glossy magazine in hand. 

Oberyn straightened up but didn’t move away from you, instead drawing you closer to his side even as he turned to face the other woman. “We are aware.” He cocked his head to the side, lowering the spear and using it to indicate the magazine Tyene held. “Surely there is more stimulating reading material available here than -” The pages crinkled as Tyene shifted her grip on it to give him the finger, her eyes rolling playfully as she did. Oberyn grinned then, bringing the weapon back to its original position. “I’m actually glad that you walked in when you did, Tyene. I was going to come find you if you hadn’t.” 

“Oh?” She opened the magazine and scanned the first few pages, deciding which article to read. Four hundred years old and she’s still a typical teenager when it comes to him. 

“I was going to ask if you were up for a few rounds of sparring.” That got her attention far more than whatever she’d chosen to read - you could tell from the way that her shoulders lifted, chest expanding with an unnecessary intake of breath. You knew Oberyn saw it, too, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards before he spoke again. “It has been a long time since we have trained together.” 

You blinked, your own excitement to see him in action growing at the thought of getting to watch the two of them practicing their combat skills with each other. Oh, this is going to be something. 

“Sure.” Without lifting her eyes from the magazine that she was reading, Tyene tilted her head as she spoke. “But I’ll give you some time to warm up first, Oberyn.” She flipped the page, lifting a brow in an attempt to feign mild interest at whatever headline was scrawled atop the new one. A slight smirk that she couldn’t contain curved her lips as she turned another page. “Let you shake out the rust before I -”

The rich, full sound of his warm laughter pulled your focus back to his face. Small creases formed around his eyes, stretching out like sun rays as his smile pushed his cheeks higher.  “Easy, little snake.” He warned her with the arch of an eyebrow. “Never forget who taught you how to strike.” 

“I could never.” Tyene grinned, adjusting her position to settle more deeply into the armchair. Crossing her legs, she cocked her head to the side. “But you shouldn’t forget that part of what you taught me was that there is always more to learn.” She clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Like you said, it’s been a long time since we’ve trained together. I might have picked up a thing or two since then.” 

Oberyn chuckled, his shoulders lifting slightly. The gleam in his dark eyes was playful and teasing, but in it you also saw pride and affection for Tyene, the expression tugging at your heart. They mean so much to each other.  “Good.” He nodded. “I’m counting on it.”  

“See you in an hour, then.” With that, Tyene went back to skimming the magazine that was resting in her lap, and Oberyn let go of your waist, his hand once again wrapping around yours. 

He led you into the hall, the long space empty and silent. But I just heard  them talking. Where’s - Before you could finish your thought though, Toban stepped out from the bedroom closest to the front door, a relaxed smile on his face that seemed to round the edges of his square jaw. 

“Did I hear you and Tyene discussing a sparring session, Oberyn?” He crossed his arms casually over his chest, his emerald eyes moving with interest from Oberyn’s spear to your face. You felt his gaze linger on the mark on your throat, his chin angled slightly so that he could see it more clearly. It didn’t make you uncomfortable exactly, but you wondered why he was so fixated on it. He saw it as soon as he met me. Noticed it right away. You blinked. And as far as I know it hasn’t changed, so…  why does he keep - He brought his eyes back up to look directly at the man beside you as he continued. “And if so, would you mind if I joined you?” 

Oberyn’s grip on your hand tightened, and you knew that the other man noticed even though he didn’t react. “You did hear that.” His tone wasn’t quite clipped, but it lacked the jovial quality that you heard when he spoke to Tyene or Ellaria. I really need to know more about them. “And if you would like to join us, Toban, then I will certainly not stop you.” Toban’s smile widened as Oberyn’s eyebrows came together in question. “Where is Ellaria?”

Dropping his arms, Toban used one hand to indicate the front door. “She decided to follow Tyrion home, to make sure that the rest of the Lannisters did not have him followed here.” Smart. “She said she would be taking a longer route back in case anyone happened to be watching.” He lowered his hand to his side and tilted his head as he shrugged. “But with the Mountain still healing from his encounter with you, I doubt they would risk sending anyone else.” 

Oberyn let out a huff. “Let’s hope you are right.” He tapped the end of the spear shaft on the tiled floor. “But either way it’s best to be prepared.” Not waiting for a response, he took a step towards the door. “I am -” His eyes flicked to you and warmed significantly compared to the way he looked at Toban. “We,” he corrected himself, giving your hand another squeeze and a gentle pull, “are heading to the roof now, but Tyene is planning on coming up in about an hour. If you would like to join us then, you are welcome to, of course.” 

“Alright. See you in an hour, then.” Toban gave the two of you a single nod, watching as you stepped out the front door. 

You heard the lock click into place behind you, and then you and Oberyn were alone in the building’s hallway, heading for the elevators. Stepping into the car beside him, you watched as he pressed the button for the roof. But as the doors closed, meeting in the middle to form a solid, reflective surface, your eyes caught on the tip of Oberyn’s spear, and something occurred to you that hadn’t before. 

“Wait, are -” When you looked up at him, you found that he was already looking down at you with curiosity. I can’t believe I’m just realizing this, but… “Oberyn, are you going to use real weapons to spar with Tyene and Toban?” 

Oberyn grinned. “We are. Tyene fights with a pair of daggers, and Toban favors a longsword.” 

Your eyes widened. The same as the Mountain. “But…” Shaking your head, you furrowed your brow in confusion. “Isn’t that dangerous? What if you actually cut each other? I mean, I know you all can heal pretty damn fast, but doesn’t it take a lot out of you to do that? Wouldn’t… you’d all have to drink after that, to replenish. And -”  

Letting out a chuckle, Oberyn leaned over and laid a kiss to your temple. What’s so funny? “It won’t be a problem.” You felt his lips linger, curving into a smile before he pulled away to look at you again. “You are very considerate, but you don’t need to worry.” He dropped your hand then, plunging his own into his pocket to pull out a small brown glass bottle. “Poison is not the only thing that I tip my blades with, contrary to my reputation.” Giving the bottle a shake, he offered it to you. 

You turned it over in your hand, a viscous liquid sloshing inside of it. He wouldn’t have handed it to me if it was something dangerous. “What is this?” 

“That,” Oberyn stated, a hint of pride in his tone, “is my own creation.  I learned to make it in my time at the Citadel. It creates a protective barrier between a weapon and the skin, so that we can train freely without worrying about the consequences. With this on my blade, I won’t do more damage than a butter knife would.” That’s so smart. He shrugged. “And for us? Cuts that shallow will close almost immediately.” 

The light above the door flashed to let you know that you’d made it to the top, the car coming to a stop beneath your feet. You handed the bottle back to Oberyn and followed him out into the small enclosed space that led out onto the rooftop. 

“Does it only work for you? What would happen if a -” You stopped yourself from saying the word human. It made the difference between the two of you seem far larger than it felt, and you didn’t want to draw attention to that fact - especially after Tyrion’s comment on how fragile mortals were. “What would happen if I got cut?” 

“That will not happen.” His response was immediate, a slight edge to his tone, but then he sighed and answered your question more accurately. “But if it did, you would feel it. It probably would not go deep enough to require stitches, but it would bleed.”

Even discussing the unlikely possibility of you being hurt seemed to cause him distress, so you steered the conversation in a different direction. “Well then I’ll be sure to watch from a distance.” You winked at him as he stepped ahead of you to open the glass door that led out into the patio area. “I’m looking forward to seeing you in action.” 

The night air carried a breeze that tousled his hair, the moonlight catching the silvery strands hidden in his dark curls. He flashed a grin, one that he knew damn well would make you suck in a breath. “Then I will try not to disappoint.” 

You scoffed through a smile then, shaking your head as you walked over to the railing. Looking back at him over your shoulder, you rolled your eyes over the top of your smile-raised cheeks. “Not possible, Oberyn.” 

You let out a breath as you returned your gaze to the city lights and the moonlit sky, but you turned back to face him when he spoke your name. “I need to move some of these tables and chairs out of the way. If I am going to spar with Tyene and with -” you noticed the tick of his jaw as it tightened. “With Toban, I need more space.” He took a step closer to you, reaching for your right hand. “Will you hold this for me while I do that?” 

Hold wha- oh. Before the question was even half formed in your thoughts, he was lifting your hand up to curl around the shaft of his spear. Holy shit, I’m holding… he’s letting me… You sucked in a breath as you felt how smooth the wood was beneath your palm, Oberyn’s hand sliding yours into place and then curling your fingers into a secure grip. Making sure that the blunt end was still flush with the ground, he completely covered your hand with his own, bringing the other to your waist. 

“Tyene was not joking when she mentioned how sharp I kept this blade,” he said, eyes flicking from where they were locked with yours up to the tip of the spear. You followed his gaze as moonlight struck the edge of it, the steel glinting lethally against the darkness. “Hold it just like that.” Dropping both arms back to his sides, he took a step back and tilted his chin downwards before lifting it slowly in appraisal. Your breath caught as you watched something just as deadly as the blade flash mischievously in his eyes. “That looks good in your hands.” 

His comment, combined with the way he was looking at you - head cocked at an angle, the tip of his tongue sliding along the seam of his lips - made your heart skip again. The lift of one cheek higher into his eye as his grin grew told you that he was aware of the change, too. Of course he is. 

You let out a breath and licked at your lips, head shaking side to side as Oberyn turned to start moving chairs out of his way. “Maybe.” He looked over at you again, arching one eyebrow as he lifted a side table and stacked it on top of another one. “But it’s much more useful in yours.” I’d cut my own damn head off if I tried to do anything more than hold this. 

“I’m after a few lessons you would be able to make use of it.” You watched him stack another set of tables. “Perhaps one day soon I will get the chance to teach you a few things.” Oh. That would be… Your heart pounded at the thought of Oberyn standing directly behind you, placing your hands on the shaft, directing the motion of your hips as he showed you how to step and thrust for the best angle of attack. Fuck. “For now though, I’m -” He walked over to the sectional patio couch and bent down to place his hands on the cushions. Shooting you a wink over his shoulder, he continued. “I am very happy to look.” 

You shook your head, breath coming through your nose in an amused exhale. That makes two of us. Keeping your eyes on his back, you watched as he pushed the furniture towards the railing, taut muscles straining the fabric of his shirt. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re an incorrigible flirt, Prince Oberyn?” 

Straightening up, he laughed, the sound rich and warm. A few days ago I didn’t think I’d ever get to hear that sound again. “I may have heard that before.” He shrugged, lips dipping into a false frown before lifting again. “One or two… thousand times.” 

Your free hand came to your hip as you watched him measure out the space he’d just cleared in footsteps. “I bet that’s an understatement.” 

Seemingly satisfied with the area, Oberyn held up one finger and turned with a sweeping step, closing the distance until he stood directly in front of you. “Perhaps. But it is a good thing that I am so incorrigible.” His left hand rose to curl around the spear, just below where you held it so that your pinky was stacked atop his pointer finger. With a grin, he looped his right arm through the angle of your bent elbow and wound it around your back. “Otherwise -” Palm splaying along your spine, he used it and your shared grip on the spear to pull you closer. “We may have never met.” 

Without hesitation, you leaned in to kiss him. The hand on your hip came up to rest against his cheek as his plush lips parted to accept yours. Despite the fact that you had been the one to initiate it, you sucked in a breath as he kissed you back, still not fully used to the rush that came with it. I’m not sure I ever will be. Trusting that he had a firm enough grip on the weapon, you let it go and brought your right hand up to the other side of his face and around to tangle your fingers in his hair. 

The second you tightened your grip on his curls, a husky groan slipped through his kiss. You smiled against his lips at the knowledge that you pulled that sound from him so easily. “I’m glad we did, Oberyn.” 

He rested his forehead against yours as he swept his thumb along your spine. “So am I.” 

As much as you would have loved to stand there in his hold all night, you knew that under the current circumstances - the impending confrontation with the Lannisters and Gregor and all the preparation that would have to go into taking them down - you couldn’t. 

You had gone up to the roof so that Oberyn could train, but also so that the two of you would have the chance to talk about things in private. And there are things I need to ask him before Tyene and Toban get here, so… You sighed and pulled away, letting one hand fall back to your side, the other reaching for the spear again. 

He seemed to come to the same conclusion. “I guess I should get started, hmm?” 

You nodded, eyebrows coming together as you swallowed. “Can I ask something? Before…” He tilted his head in question as you trailed off. “Before Toban comes up, I -” His expression flickered slightly at the mention of the other man. Yeah, that’s what I need to know about. You sighed. “Oberyn, I can tell there’s tension between the two of you, and I’m sure there’s a reason for that. And if you want to tell me about it later? I’ll gladly listen.” He nodded once. “But for now, before I spend any time with him, is there anything I need to know? Anything you don’t want me to say? Or…”

Your words trailed off as Oberyn’s hands came up to rest on your biceps, palms rubbing up and down gently. “You do not need to hold anything back from Toban Dayne.” He rolled his eyes before letting go of your arms and reaching forward to finally relieve you of the spear. “I know he will not hold anything back from you.” 

Is that… a good thing? You heard the clank of wood against concrete as he set the weapon down, leaning it against the arm of the couch. “I know you must trust him or else he wouldn’t be here.” Your shoulders rose in a small shrug. “I just figured… if there were any… uncomfortable topics to avoid, I should know about them.” 

“I appreciate you asking, but there are no secrets, and I would  never presume to tell you what you can or cannot say to anyone.” He brought both hands back to your body then, one resting at your waist. The other he raised to your throat, fingertips just grazing the mark and causing the skin to tingle. “All I ask is that you give me a chance to explain anything he tells you.” Oberyn let out a sigh. “I do trust Toban. He and I have not always seen eye to eye on things, but ultimately we are on the same side.” 

That was good enough for you. For now, anyway. “Alright.” Nodding, you licked your lips and let them curve into a smile as his hand came to rest on the side of your neck. “In that case?” You tilted your head towards his spear. “I think it’s time for you to show me what you can do with that.” 

He said your name then, eyes flashing as he winked at you. “It would be my pleasure.” 

You focused on the movement of Oberyn’s hands - on the way his grip changed as his wrists twisted intentionally over one another to create the twirling motion. There was a quiet thunk every time the ring on his thumb made contact with the wood, his fingers curling around it with the same dexterity that a musician would use to coax a melody from an instrument. He hasn’t even held it in thousands of years but… A shaft of silver moonlight sifted through the clouds and caught the beveled edge of the crooked blade to make it glint against the night. But it’s like he never put it down. It’s natural.   

As that thought crossed your mind though, you felt a tight pang of sadness in your chest. No. The clouds covered over the moon again as he went through another pass of the form he was practicing. Drawing one leg up onto your seat, you frowned, lips pulling down and to the side. 

It would feel even more natural for him if he were doing this in the daylight. He had first learned to fight on the sands of Dorne, with the bright, unfettered sun warm on his skin as he repeated the techniques enough times to commit them to muscle memory. This - an LA rooftop in the middle of the night - couldn’t have been more different from that. 

You sighed, your eyes flicking down to the opened buttons of his white Henley, where the absence of his gold pendant was noticeable. The cool autumn breeze brought a chill into the air that make you shiver, and you shrugged more deeply into the sweater that you wore. You tried to remind yourself that it was only temporary - that he would be able to walk in the sunlight again soon, the intricately cast medallion once again hanging from his neck. He’ll need it back for the engagement party, so…  just a few more days.  

Blinking, you switched your attention to his forearms, watching them flex as he directed the spearhead to control the balance of the weapon. His feet slid almost silently over the concrete as he moved backwards three paces before turning with a wide but calculated sidestep so that he faced you directly. Without missing a beat, he raised one eyebrow and tilted his head to the side, grin climbing up that cheek. 

“So what do you think?” Breaking from the repetitive movements, he quickly changed his grip so that both hands were wrapped around the middle of the spear’s handle, and then lunged, thrusting the point of it only a few inches from where you sat. “Do I stand another chance against the Mountain?” 

As much as you hated the thought of him going toe to toe with that monster again, you had to admit that the fact that Oberyn would have his spear - and his armor - this time around made you far less worried. You let your lips curve into a small smile, and were rewarded as the one on his face reached his eyes, their depths shining. 

“I think that if you had this spear with you at that costume party, Oberyn?” You stood then, one hand coming up to gently push the end of the weapon aside so you could safely close the distance between the two of you. Shaking your head, you dropped your arm back to your side as he pulled back and set the flat end of the spear against the ground. “Things would have gone very differently for all of us.” 

He hummed, his free hand reaching for your hip as his eyes locked with yours. “I am inclined to agree with you.” 

Another breeze swept through the space between your bodies to play with the tassel hanging from the spear and ruffle the fringe of hair that fell over his forehead. It’s chilly tonight. You took a breath in through your nose, the crisp autumn air filling your lungs as you placed both of your hands on his chest. But he’s not cold. 

You smiled at that thought and stepped even closer, flattening your forearms against him to soak up the warmth coming through his shirt. The fingertips of your left hand slipped up and over his collar to glide over his skin. He’s not cold at all.

When he spoke again you felt his words vibrating against your palms where you touched him. “Fighting with a weapon like this one gives me better control of the distance between myself and my opponent. It lets me keep them at a greater length than a sword or a dagger would allow.” That makes sense. 

You saw the flash of his grin and the mischievous twinkle in his eye that told you something was coming, but you were still unprepared for how swiftly he moved. Gasping, you felt him release your hip and swing the spear around behind you, using the same hand that he’d just had resting near your waist to instead grip the shaft of the weapon. With the pole pressed to your back, he used it to pull you flush against him, his arms caging you between his torso and the polished wooden handle. “Or…” He flicked his eyes down to your chest, watching the dramatic rise and fall before tilting his head to speak directly into your ear. “I can keep them close.” 

Your heart skipped as his teeth raked your skin, and though it didn’t seem possible, you melted into him even more. He’s never going to play fair with me, is he? You wound your arms up and around his neck and as he tilted his head back to look at you once more, you realized something and it made you grin. That means I don’t have to, either. 

“Oh, is that what I am, Oberyn?” You raised one eyebrow, right hand sliding into his hair to make a loose grip. “An opponent?” Tightening your fist so that your knuckles dug lightly at his scalp, you pulled a groan from him that made you both grin. “Someone you need to fight?” Oberyn stared at you for a few moments before responding with a slow shake of his head. 

“No.” He took a step backwards, eyes falling to your lips as his own curved into a grin, and despite the fact that he had somehow put more warmth in the word than you would have thought possible, you shivered. The handle of the spear pressed gently into your back, Oberyn using it to corral you even closer. Another step brought his calves in contact with the cushion of the L shaped patio lounge, and you sucked in a breath as he rolled the length of smooth wood down into the dip where your spine met your pelvis. “I can think of many things that I would rather do with you than fight.” He lowered himself into a seated position, urging you to follow. “Much better reasons to keep you close.” 

“Good.” Your knees sunk into the cushion on either side of his lap, but you didn’t settle your weight on his thighs. “Because I wouldn’t last a single second against you.”

He chuckled, the low rumble from his chest accompanying a wolfish grin. “Do not sell yourself short.” His rings clanged against the wooden spear as he tightened his grip on it to force your weight down on top of him, a startled gasp slipping from your lips as you felt him solidly beneath you. Though he wasn’t hard it didn’t take much to imagine what it would feel like when he was. Fuck. You nearly moaned, heat flooding your entire body as he lifted his hips with you still straddled over them. “I think you will last more than a few seconds when we -” 

The sound of a throat clearing cut the rest of his words short, and you froze as Tyene’s voice hit your ear. 

“When I said you should warm up with your spear, Oberyn -” You slowly turned your head to watch her saunter over, your heart thudding wildly in your ears at the slight embarrassment of being caught. Her left eyebrow rose as she used one finger to indicate the two of you and the position that you were in before crossing her arms over her chest and sticking one hip out. “This is not what I meant.” 

Shit. I… she’s right, I should… he needs to be taking this seriously and - You tried to lift yourself from Oberyn’s lap, but though he’d set his weapon aside at Tyene’s arrival, his hands kept you firmly in place, both of them flattened against the small of your back. 

“You have your methods for preparing for a fight, little snake.” Oberyn flexed his fingers so they dug lightly into you, and then he let his palms slip around to the tops of your thighs with a shrug. “And I have mine.” 

Mine. 

You took a breath, letting the word wash over you, warmth dropping into your belly as it did. You would gladly be his pre-fight preparation. You would gladly be his anything, if given the chance.

I am yours, Oberyn. 

Leaving his hands where they lay, and continuing his conversation, Oberyn glanced over Tyene’s shoulder. “Where is Toban? He said he wanted to-“ 

“Ellaria’s back.” Oh, good. Though you weren’t truly worried about Ellaria running into anything she couldn’t handle, you were relieved to know she’d made it back safely - and without being followed. “He was just talking to her, and then he said he’ll be right up.” 

“We’ll have to get started without him, then.” He gently tapped your leg and you shifted off of his lap and onto the cushion of the lounge furniture. Pulling the bottle he’d shown you earlier out of his pocket, he handed it to Tyene. “Get yourself prepared, and then show me what you’ve learned since our last dance.” 

She took the bottle with a flourish, unscrewing the cap and pulling one of two daggers from her belt. “Gladly.” 

You watched the two of them in wide-eyed wonder as they twirled and lunged, dodged and clashed their weapons together under the moonlight. 

A few times they had nicked one another, and you witnessed the substance that Oberyn had crafted work in real time as long cuts that should have gone much deeper appeared and vanished over their forearms and sides. The blades left a few slashes in their clothing - Tyene had a tear across the front of her shirt and Oberyn’s left sleeve was shredded - but no actual harm remained on their bodies. That’s incredible. 

The door to the patio opened behind you, but you kept your eyes on the scene in front of you until the other man was standing right next to where you sat. Though Oberyn had told you about his weapon of choice, it still came as somewhat of a shock to see the sword that he carried. Going through customs at the airport must be interesting for them. 

“Looks like you’ve got front row seats.” Toban spoke your name, nodding towards where Oberyn and Tyene were circling each other a few feet away. I sure do. He blinked away from the fight and glanced down at you, sharp eyes focused on your face. “Mind if I sit?”

Crossing your left leg over the right, you gestured to the cushions beside you. “Of course not, Toban, there’s plenty of room.” 

He let out a sigh as he lowered himself onto the couch, a relaxed look of contentment settling over his features. “Thank you.” Returning his attention to the action, he tilted his head closer to yours. “Did I miss anything exciting?” 

You mean aside from two expertly skilled immortal warriors engaged in a fight? “Um…” You cleared your throat. “They uh, they just got started a few minutes ago, so-” 

Before you could finish your response the clang of metal on stone rang out through the air, one of Tyene’s daggers clattering to the ground. “I’ve taken one of your fangs, little snake,” Oberyn chided while deftly twirling the spear back to ready position. “Plan your next strike carefully.” 

Tyene huffed, tossing her remaining dagger from her left hand to her right. “What makes you think I haven’t planned it already?” 

The soft scrape of their bootsoles on the pavers signaled the end of their banter as they began circling each other again. Toban chuckled under his breath. “Guess I got here just in time for the good part, hmm?” 

Oberyn used the blunt end of the spear to knock the weapon Tyene dropped further from her reach, and you exhaled through your nose in a huff of laughter. “Guess you did.” You glanced over at the man next to you as he stretched out his long legs, casually stacking his ankles and folding his arms over his chest. “Is Ellaria coming up, too?” 

Still watching the dueling pair in front of you, Toban clicked his tongue and shook his head. “No. She said she has other preparations that need to be handled before the engagement party.” That makes sense. I’m sure there’s…  He shifted his focus to you, eyes lingering on the mark on your throat before coming up to shoot a wink at you. “That means she’s online, shopping for something to wear to this party.”

You weren’t expecting that, and the image of Ellaria Sand stretched out in bed or sprawled on the couch in the apartment downstairs while she scrolled fashion sites on her phone made you laugh. Good for her. Before you could comment, though, Toban was speaking again. 

“Do you know what it means?” He tilted his head to the side, focus slipping down to your throat, and you knew he was talking about your mark. “Did he…” A crease formed between his brows, and even in the dark you could see something close to concern flicker in Toban’s eyes. “What did Oberyn tell you about that mark he gave you?” 

Your heart pounded against your ribs as your fingers came up to absently brush the spot just under your jawline. I guess this is what he meant about Toban not holding back. Glancing across the patio, you saw - and felt - as Oberyn’s eyes darted to where you were sitting. There was no doubt that Oberyn could hear every word of your conversation, even over the sound of his blade clashing with Tyene’s. And about there not being any secrets. 

“He…” Fingers curling towards your palm, you dropped your hand away from your jawline and nodded. “Yes.” You cleared your throat, watching as Oberyn spun away, lifting the spear over his head to block Tyene’s attack. “He told me that it means that I’m under his protection. That none of… of your kind will hurt me in any way because of it.” 

Your attention shifted back to the man beside you as he spoke. “That is true.” Lifting one eyebrow, his mouth quirked to the side in a smirk. “I do not know every Other who walks the Earth, but I do know that not a single one of them would dare cross the Red Viper.” 

As if on cue, Toban’s words were punctuated by the shing of steel on stone as Oberyn sent Tyene’s second dagger flying from her hand. It was the third round in a row that he’d bested her, and the quickest. And this is just practice against someone he knows and trusts. “But I -“ Your tongue slipped out to wet your lips. “I know it means more to him than that.” 

Using the blade end of his spear, Oberyn scooped one of Tyene’s fallen weapons up, flipping it in one fluid motion to catch it by the hilt. “One more?” He asked as she retrieved the other one. “Or have you shown me all your new tricks yet?” 

Tyene’s response came in the form of the finger and a slew of what you assumed were swears in Valyrian. Laughing as she shook her head, she snatched the blade back from him. But as she turned to take the ready position, you caught the way Oberyn looked over at you - his eyes focused on yours, lips pressed together, a small shadow darkening his brow as his forehead wrinkled slightly. Without the moonlight shining on his hair, you might have missed the small nod of his head, encouraging you to keep going. 

“Do you?” Toban’s voice pulled your attention back to him.

Blinking, you licked your lips. “Yes, I do. He told me -” You sucked in a breath as the weight of what you were about to say dropped into your chest with the same heft that it did when Oberyn explained things to you. “He told me it’s been 400 years since he’s done this. And he told me why, too.” 

Toban hummed. “So you understand how important you are to him then? What it means that he has broken 400 years of denying himself that bond? For you?” 

It means it’s going to devastate him when I die. You swallowed, trying to rid the bitter taste of that thought from your tongue. But it also means… “It means that he wants me in his life. For however long is possible. And I -” You kept your eyes on Oberyn, on the fluidity of his motion, the shine of his smile. “I want that, too.” 

“However long is possible?” Toban shifted in his seat so that he could look at you more fully, and though you wanted to continue to watch the sparring session, you sensed that the conversation you were having was heading for deeper waters. You turned three quarters of the way towards the man beside you as he went on. “You know by now that eternity is possible.” I do, but - “What would you say to eternity?” 

Your mouth went dry then, heart thudding hard against your ribs. I would say yes. I… there would be things I needed to take care of first, but I would say yes. It still scared you a little to know that that was how you felt about someone you had only known for such a short period of time. But it did nothing to change the facts. 

That wasn’t what you said, though. Instead, you shook your head. “It doesn’t matter, Toban, because he also told me that he can’t make that offer, and I understand why.” But you know that’s not what my first thought was, don’t you.

The emerald green eyes trained on you narrowed slightly. “Oberyn told you about the last person he gave his mark to.” That was a statement, and one that you had already confirmed, so you knew that there was something else coming. “But has he told you about Cameron?” 

Who? You knew that your expression answered for you, but you gave him one anyway with a slow shake of your head. “No.” 

“I see.” Toban nodded. “Well, let me fill you in. Cameron was someone that Oberyn had started to become close to. This was -” He tilted his head in thought for a few seconds. “Maybe a century ago? They traveled together, trained together. For a time they were inseparable. I think in some ways they were in love.” You listened closely. “But Oberyn remained resolute in his decision not to strengthen that bond by using his mark or by offering to change his companion until he was free of his quest for revenge and justice.” 

Without realizing it, you had lifted your fingers to brush at the space under your jaw. Your pulse thumped against the tips of them, as though reminding you that while Oberyn had broken half of his rules for you, you remained human, just like Cameron. And I’ll stay that way, because …

“At that time, like other times throughout our lives, we had made enemies of some different groups within the Others.” Toban explained. “One group from Braavos, in particular. I knew that they would stop at nothing to find ways to hurt us. They had already tried to kill one of Ellaria’s Children, and it was only a matter of time before they sought a way to deliver a blow to Oberyn, too. Cameron would have been the easiest target for them, and he had been left unprotected.” 

You gasped quietly. Oh, Oberyn.  “Did they… did they get to him?” 

Toban sighed then, a look crossing his face that you couldn’t quite place. It was somewhere between sorrow and sympathy, a touch of regret reaching his eyes and setting his handsome features into a frown. “They did not. Because I stepped in first.” 

In the distance, you heard Tyene swear as Oberyn’s spear slipped at her thigh, and when you looked over you saw that he was watching you and Toban while he waited for her to reset. But he wanted me to talk to Toban, so… You returned your attention to the other man. “What do you mean by that?” 

“I mean I gave Cameron my mark of protection to keep him safe from our enemies. For Oberyn. I acted so he would not have to suffer that loss, too.” 

That shocked you. It was a selfless thing, a generous gift. But you knew that the story did not have a happy ending. Not for Oberyn, at least. “That’s…” You shook your head. “Did it work?” 

Toban raised his eyebrows and nodded. “It did. It kept Cameron safe. Kept him alive.” He sighed again, the action making his broad shoulders sag. “But it also changed Cameron’s feelings toward Oberyn. It hurt him to know that despite their connection, he wouldn’t offer the same thing that I had given him. Soon, Cameron spent less and less time with Oberyn, and more time with me. Until one day he…” Toban brought a hand to his head and smoothed it back over his hair. “He asked me to change him.” Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open. “And I said yes.” 

“Oh.” Your voice was small but you knew he heard you. You knew Oberyn heard you, too. So that’s why… that’s part of why their relationship is so… 

You heard Toban speak your name then, and you blinked, focusing on him once more. “I am glad it will not be the same with you.” He cautiously raised his hand towards your neck, and you let him graze his fingers over your mark without knowing what to expect. It didn’t feel the same as it did when you or Oberyn touched it, and the contact didn’t linger, Toban withdrawing his hand and settling it back in his lap to clasp around the hilt of his sword. “I’m glad that he found you.” 

“I -” What? 

“Toban!” Tyene’s exasperated voice interrupted your response as she called to him from across the roof. “I’m tapping out. Softened him up for you though, so -” At that, Oberyn gave her a small shove, the woman stumbling but catching herself with quick footwork. 

“One second,” Toban responded, a grin curving his lips. He turned back to you. “It was a pleasure talking with you. I look forward to getting to know you more after all of this is over.” With that, he rose and made his way over to trade places with Tyene, who approached you just as Oberyn handed the bottle off to Toban so that he could coat his sword in the protective solution. 

You knew you must have had a wild look in your eyes from the way she studied you, but you couldn’t help it after everything Toban had just revealed. And as much as you wanted to stay and watch the two men train, you were relieved when Tyene cocked her head to the side and asked if you wanted to go back inside. 

“It’s cold out here,” she offered as an out, even though she knew the temperature had nothing to do with the things you were trying to process. “I’m gonna go take a hot shower in that big ass bathroom downstairs. There’s another one in the bedroom you’re staying in, too, if you wanted to -” 

Not even letting her get to the end of her suggestion, you stood. “Yeah.” You nodded. “That sounds really good, actually. Let me just -” You pointed towards where Oberyn and Toban were getting ready to square up. “I’ll let Oberyn know, and -” 

“Alright. I’ll wait for you.” She placed her hand on your shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze before  heading off in the direction of the small glass lobby that housed the elevator. 

Telling her you’d be right behind her, you pressed your lips together and made your way over to where Oberyn stood. As soon as he saw you in motion, he set down his spear and strode to meet you halfway. His large, warm hands came to rest at your waist the moment you were within his reach. “Are you alright?”

For a few seconds all you could do was stare up into the brown - almost obsidian - eyes that scanned your face. Eventually you nodded, one hand coming up to brush his windswept and tousled hair back into place. He sighed at your touch, leaning into it. “I am, Oberyn. That was just…” You shivered then, as much from the weight of your thoughts as from the night chill. Too much for anyone, and …  

He gave you a small smile that wasn’t quite sad, but didn’t light his face the way it usually did. “I know. This is a lot to take in. I promise I will explain everything to you tonight when we’re done here.” He flexed his fingers where he held you. “Go ahead inside and get warm and comfortable. We won’t be much longer.” 

Throat tight with a mix of emotions, all you could manage was a nod and a quiet “okay.” He leaned down to brush his lips against yours, and then he released you, turning back to where Toban stood waiting. 

Holy shit. 

On slightly shaky legs, you went to meet up with Tyene, the two of you taking the elevator down in near silence, until the light above the door indicated that you were almost back to your floor. 

“Hey. I'm glad you know, now,” she said, bumping you gently with her elbow. “How much you mean to him, I mean.” 

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Me too.” 

When you reached the apartment, Tyene turned to give you a brief hug before disappearing into one of the bedrooms. After standing in the hall for a few seconds to collect yourself, you did the same, suddenly desperate to be under the warm flow of water so that you could peel apart your thoughts and examine them in peace. 

You weren’t sure how long you stayed in the shower, but when you got out you felt as though you’d absorbed what Toban had told you as best as you could. Under the circumstances, anyway.

Changing into a pair of olive green sweats and a tan long sleeve shirt, you opened the slider door to the balcony off your bedroom and stepped back into the night. You were only alone out there for a few minutes, though. After the time you had taken to yourself you were happy to be back in his company - alone. 

“Outside again, hmm?” You heard the sound of the glass door rolling along its track as he pulled it shut after stepping out into the small space. “You’re not too cold?” 

Lips curving upwards, you continued to gaze out at the city below. “I like the view.” You shrugged and let out a sigh before pushing off the railing to turn to face him. “And I know you’ll keep me w -” 

A pair of arms wrapped around you from behind then, stopping your motion and keeping you facing forward. “My view is much better.” Though he spoke directly into your ear, you could feel his beard as it rasped over the skin of your neck, just below the line of your jaw. Sucking in a breath, you melted against his chest as you let it back out, his body heat seeping into your skin. “And I will keep you warm.” His hold on you tightened as he dragged his mouth over the invisible mark. “Very warm.” 

You shuddered at the sensation, eyelids falling closed and his name coming out in a gasp. That feels incredible. Reaching back with one hand to rake your fingers through his hair, you hummed as he left a slow, lingering kiss to the underside of your jaw before straightening up again. 

“I will need to go back inside before the sun comes up.” You felt his fingertips running up the length of your right forearm before sliding slowly back down. “But we can stay out here for as long as you want until then.” At Oberyn’s words, Toban’s mention of an eternity played back in your mind. 

“Okay,” you murmured, letting the hand that was in his hair come back around to the front of your body to rest over his arms where he held you. An eternity of this would be amazing, but for now … I’ll take tonight.

“And,” he tightened his hold then. “I would like to tell you about Cameron. Ask me anything you want to know.” 

“Everything,” you responded, leaning your head back against his chest. “I want to know everything, Oberyn.” 

Tag list reblogs coming soon! 

[gumy-shark]

if i dropped the technically-unfinished-but-im-probably-not-gonna-add-more-to-it shou ficlet draft would you guys clap and cheer for me

[frontmezzjunkies]

Unmasked, The Grand Slam Music of Andrew Lloyd Webber at Paper Mill

#frontmezzjunkies reviews: #PMPUnmasked, The Grand Slam Music of #AndrewLloydWebber at @Paper_Mill #papermillplayhouse @OfficialALW d/ch: #JoannMHunter cowritten and devised with #RichardCurtis

Alex Finke, Mauricio Martinez, Mamie Parris, Nicholas Edwards, Amy Justman, and Alyssa Giannetti; photo by Jerry Dalia.

The Review: Unmasked at Paper Mill Playhouse, NJ

By Ross

I don’t know how to love this show.  What to do, or how to be moved by this. It’s filled to the brim with Andrew Lloyd Webber superstar songs, that are solidly well-known from numerous Broadway hits, with many becoming…

[something-tofightfor]

Aphelion Intro: The Moodboard

Been sitting on this one for a while because it's hard to believe that someone took the time to create something so beautiful for this story - just because they love it. @versatileginger approached @the-blind-assassin-12 and I and asked if we'd be open to having moodboards created for Aphelion - our modern day Oberyn story.

We said yes, and this is the result for the intro chapter.

There are so many little details in this - and so many nods to the things that Alysa and I were trying to convey with the story; I grin every time I look at it.

Thank you so much for creating this for us. We are ENDLESSLY appreciative.

Note - Reader does not have a desctiption within the story, and these moodboards feature one person's interpretation of her - not the only interpretation of her.

[something-tofightfor]

Aphelion - 8

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand

*Please be sure to consider all chapter warnings before reading! Warnings will be updated for each chapter in individual posts as well as on the Masterlist.

Warnings: Talk of the past, mentions of violence, blood and death. Mild NSFW, but nothing explicit. Some nudity, but it’s tame. 

Word Count: 11,068

Summary: She’s given you some time to talk to Oberyn alone now that you’re both feeling better, but Ellaria’s thinking about much more than conversation when it comes to the two of you. 

Will learning more about what Oberyn’s second life has been like - and what he gave you change the way you feel - and if it does, will those feelings be better or worse? 

A/N: Sorry it’s been so long! Both @the-blind-assassin-12 and I have been busy writing other things for your enjoyment, but we definitely had to circle back around to this story. This one’s very long, very detailed - and very, very special for both of us. Thank you for your patience and support - hopefully we’ll have part 9 ready to go soon, too! 

Also, if you have questions about details or plot points or the way that Westerosi history/world fits into the “real” world- please ask! We don’t want to confuse anyone.

Catch up with the Aphelion masterlist here

You stared at the door, eyes wide and mouth still hanging open slightly at Ellaria’s parting words for long moments after it had closed behind her. 

She said that I didn’t understand how they … that it didn’t matter that she was here, but how can it not matter? The two of them are…  

It wasn’t until you felt Oberyn’s palms running over your thighs and settling at your waist, your name quietly leaving his lips as he gave a small squeeze of his fingers that you brought your attention back to his face. He was watching you carefully, concern and curiosity spilling from his dark eyes in equal measure. A small crease cutting into the space between his brows smoothed back out as you blinked to clear your focus, and you wondered if he’d called your name more than once before you turned around. Probably. 

He let out a relieved sigh, thumbs drawing an arch over your sides as he spoke. “Ellaria was right. There is a lot that you still do not understand about us.” That seems like an understatement. The tip of his tongue slid across the seam of his lips to wet them before he went on, and you couldn’t help but watch, your own lips still tingling from how he’d kissed you only a few moments before, despite the other woman’s presence. “But I will explain everything to you, I promise. There is time for that now.” 

His words sent a chill down your spine, reminding you yet again of how close both of you had come to running out of time. Too close. “There is, Oberyn.” You swallowed the lump that formed as you said his name and brought your hands up to rest on his forearms. A small sigh escaped your lungs as you registered the warmth coming through the sleeves of his shirt. “I’m so thankful for that.” Your fingers tightened and you felt his flex in response where he touched you, too. “And I… I want to understand.” 

“Good.” He finally rose from his knees then, moving to sit on the couch beside you. Your hands fell back to your lap as he moved but they didn’t remain there, Oberyn reaching to take both of them in his. He lifted your left wrist to press a soft kiss to the inside of it, lips lingering against the skin beneath them. Despite the way that you were still uncertain about where you stood now that Ellaria was there, you felt your pulse quicken, knowing that he could feel it on his lips. “Good.” He repeated the word, murmuring it against your skin and then lowered your joined hands once more. “Are you… do you need anything? Before I begin? It is -” His cheeks rounded in a quick, smiling chuckle, the expression in his eyes as they flicked over you melting your insides. “There is a lot to cover.” 

I’m sure there is. Breathing out a laugh of your own, you shook your head. “I’m okay right now.” You turned to face him completely, leaning your side into the cushions and pulling your feet up under you. Oberyn did the same, matching your angle so that he was looking directly at you.  Oh, he looks so much better. He bent one knee and relaxed against the backrest, right arm draped over the top of it as the fingers of his left hand laced with those of your opposite one. Almost like he did before he got hurt. You couldn’t help the small hum you made as the pad of his thumb swept over the knuckle of yours. “Might need to hit pause at some point though.” You wrinkled your nose. I probably look like shit. “I haven’t showered in a few days and -” 

“Whenever you need to stop, we will stop.” He spoke your name and lightly squeezed your hand to reassure you. “Just let me know, and we will take a break.” Sighing, he tilted his head towards the arm he had coiled over the couch. “And if you have questions, you can -” 

“Oh, I’m going to have questions, Oberyn.” It was your turn to tighten your grasp on his hand, and you were rewarded with another of his smiles. “And when I do, I’ll ask them.” You already had a few queued up that you knew you would be asking - like what Ellaria meant when she said that Oberyn had given you a gift, or who Tyene was - but you wanted to let him steer the conversation, at least in the beginning. Because then he’ll tell me what he wants me to know. 

“Alright.” He nodded, finally releasing your hand. “Then… you are ready?” 

You answered in the form of a breathless yes, anticipation and the desire to fully understand everything that you could about him making your whole body tingle. I’m ready to know you, Oberyn. 

And it seemed that he was more than ready for that, too. Over the course of the next two hours he told you everything, just as Ellaria had told him to. Some details you knew - either because he’d already mentioned them or because of your line of work and the topics you’d studied - but most of his story was entirely new to you… and it was fascinating. 

He told you about the pull he felt when he first met Ellaria, explaining that it was unlike the connections that he had made with other lovers. 

In the past it had always been about their individual pleasure, Oberyn explaining to you that he was aware of at least a few men and women who had sought him out simply based on his reputation in bed. “I did not mind,” he told you with a casual, one armed shrug, “because it was mutually beneficial. They were looking for something, and so was I.” 

Hearing that made your cheeks grow warm and your breathing hitch. His reputation was something that you were not only familiar with from the stories you’d heard and the things you’d read, but also because you knew that if the way he kissed you was any indication of what else he was capable of, the stories were entirely true. The warmth you felt dropped into your belly and settled as you remembered the promise he made to you the first night that you spent in the apartment - about how when he brought you to bed you would know - and you realized that unlike those who had tossed themselves at his feet over the last two thousand years, it was him that made sure you knew that he was interested in you first. 

Oh… fuck. One way or another, this man seemed destined to be the death of you. You took a slow breath in through your nose, wetting your lips as he went on. 

“With Ellaria it was different from the start.” A wistful gleam lit his eyes as he spoke her name, his features softening into a curved smile that you couldn’t help but match. “With her it has always been about both of us. There was never room for jealousy or selfishness. We did not put leashes on one another’s bodies no matter how strong the tether between our hearts became.” All of the archived Martell letters and poems make sense now. Hearing him speak like this is… He cocked his head to the side and arched one brow. “Sometimes that meant sharing our bed with others.” Tilting his head in the opposite direction, he let his expression relax, eyes flicking briefly to your lips before coming back up to yours. “Other times it meant briefly letting go of each other when one of us wanted something different. But always it meant that we were connected.” 

It was beautiful, the level of trust and loyalty that they had between them. Because it means that they truly want what’s best for one another… and that they’ll never be alone. “That’s really rare, Oberyn.” Propping  your elbow up on the couch cushion, you rested your cheek in your hand. “I’m glad that the two of you found each other.” Even if it means that I’m just… a detour. You weren’t envious of what they had - but hearing him talk about it definitely let you know where you stood and where the limitations on what was possible with him were. 

“I am glad, too.” Inhaling an unnecessary breath through his nose, he let it out slowly as he nodded. “Ellaria has given purpose to my pain as much as she has soothed it. And after she changed me our connection only became stronger.”

At that you blinked and picked your head up off of your hand. I wonder if that’s… He had told you to ask questions whenever you had them, so you decided to do more than wonder. “Does that always happen?  When someone is… when they become like you, is there always a strong connection between them and the one who changed them?” 

“Yes.” His answer was almost immediate. “There  is.” That made sense to you. It’s a huge commitment. It’s forever. “For many years after Ellaria made me what I am, we were inseparable. We traveled everywhere together, never leaving each other’s side.” A grin that was as much nostalgia as it was mischief climbed his cheek. “Fucking like we were running out of tomorrows.” 

Your stomach flipped as your heart tripped over itself. Seven goddamn fucking hells. He… they… You knew that he was acutely aware of your involuntary reaction to his words, the man tossing you a wink that only made you warmer. Oh, you know just what you’re doing, Oberyn Martell. You swallowed, letting out a quick breath and licked your lips. “That…” 

He saved you from having to come up with anything coherent, his chuckle cutting you off. “It was excessive. Even for me.” Reaching for the hand that you’d let fall to the back of the couch again, he spread his fingers wide and slid them through yours, pulling your palms together before closing his grip. “It became impossible for us to see anything else and that… That was unacceptable for both of us.” He spoke your name softly then. “Do not misunderstand me - I love Ellaria Sand. But that was not the reason that I chose this life, and it was not the reason that she offered it to me.” 

You nodded to show that you understood. The Lannisters. The Mountain. Justice for his family. 

“Besides,” he continued, eyes narrowing as he pulled his hand back from yours. “I am not Ellaria’s only creation. It would not be fair to the rest of her Children if she spent all of her time with me.” You briefly wondered how many Others Ellaria had made - and how many are still… alive. Before you could spend too long on that train of thought, Oberyn cleared his throat. “And I am far from her first.” 

There was something different in his tone as he spoke of Ellaria’s other creations. It wasn’t sadness or regret, but it wasn’t far from either option, and suddenly it struck you. It’s… longing. You lifted the hand that had been resting in your lap and placed it on his knee. But he doesn’t deny himself anything, so what could he… what does he want that he can’t have? His attention shifted to where you touched him, watching as your fingers moved absently over the fabric of his pants.  “Does that matter, Oberyn?” It must, or he wouldn’t have mentioned it. He brought his eyes back up to your face and in them you saw confirmation of that unchecked desire for something that he considered to be out of his reach. “What you said about not being the first one that she changed, I mean.” 

His attention slipped to the side of your neck, just under your chin as he answered. “Yes.” He blinked and when he reached one hand out to stroke his fingers over the skin that he was focused on, you shifted closer to him. “It matters.” Before you could lean into his touch he took it away, settling his hand on the slope of your shoulder instead. “It matters a great deal, actually.” I knew it.

You swallowed and watched his eyes track the motion of your throat. His lips parted just enough for his tongue to dart out to wet them, and you released a breathy sigh at the sight. “How?” 

He let his palm slide slowly down the length of your arm until the pad of his thumb could press to the inside of your elbow, your fingers digging slightly into his thigh. Instead of answering your question directly, he responded with one of his own. “How much do you know about the transformation process?” 

“Um,” you sucked in a breath as he dragged his touch down your forearm, following the thrum of your pulse. “Not… not much, just -” You shook your head.. “Just what’s in the stories.” He squeezed with light pressure, the tips of his fingers finding the veins on the inside of your wrist with ease. You felt your heart skip with anticipation as he touched you and knew that he felt it, too. He feels everything.

He hummed, amusement flashing in his eyes to chase away the bottomless want that had been there only seconds before. “And what do the stories say? A single bite and then a long sleep?” One eyebrow formed a skeptical arch. “You know by now that it takes more than that, hmm?” 

You rotated the arm that he held so that you could see where his fingers were tracing your skin. Of course. “Yeah. I… yes.” It definitely takes more than that because he… A quick scan of your arms revealed nothing but smooth, healed skin, but you knew that until Ellaria had taken care of them your flesh had been littered in jagged marks from Oberyn’s teeth. “I mean -” You shrugged. “I’m still human and you drank from me more than once, so…” 

“You are.” He nodded. “And I did.” He flinched and you knew that he was still upset about how much he had taken from you, your lips dipping into an immediate - and deep - frown. It’s okay, Oberyn. I’m… I’m fine. Releasing a sigh, his expression fell back to neutral and you let yours do the same. “The process to change you would require me to drain your blood completely. You would… you would technically have to die.” 

You tried not to react too much, though you knew that your eyes had widened. Oh. That’s… not in the myths. Despite the way it made the hair on the back of your neck bristle, something in the depths of your mind told you that you’d already known that detail all along. But it’s the only way. 

Using the grip he had around your wrist, Oberyn took your hand from his knee and placed it in the center of his chest. He covered it with his own to keep it in place, lifting his other hand from the backrest and pressing his palm in the same place on your body. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment as his fingers spread wide, his thumb and pinky brushing the curve of your breasts through your shirt, but when you opened them again you didn’t expect to see his shut as well, lids wrinkled and lashes laced together.  

“Oberyn?” You whispered his name, tentatively bringing your other hand up to curl beneath his chin, your fingertips sliding through the closely trimmed hair of his beard. He opened his eyes at your touch, and you weren’t sure if he was thinking about the night his own heart stopped beating, or how close yours had come to joining it in its silence, but whatever it was you could tell that there were heavy emotions tied to his thoughts. You swept your thumb along his jaw and gave him a small smile. “If you don’t want to talk about this, we don’t ha -” 

He didn’t let you give him an out though, instead surging forward to capture your lips with his. You gasped against his mouth as his hands came to the sides of your face, cradling your cheeks between them, and then you were kissing him back. You felt the bridge of his nose nudge yours as he tilted his face to change the angle, and you couldn’t hold in a muffled whimper as the hand you still had on his chest climbed up and over his shoulder to hook around the back of his neck. 

Neither of you moved to deepen it, but at the same time neither of you seemed willing to be the one to pull away first.  You let yourself become dizzy in the whirlwind of his kiss - the motion of his lips against yours, the slow heat that was pooling in your stomach, the steady, safe, protected feeling that you got whenever his hands were on you. 

You realized that if you didn’t need to breathe, you would never stop kissing him.

 If I were like him I… You inhaled through your nose, trying to draw in another breath before your lungs had gotten a chance to empty the previous one, the fingers at the back of his neck finding their way into the dark curls there. If I were like him and Ellaria, I wouldn’t have to. 

But you did need to breathe, and even if you were becoming too lost in the man to care, Oberyn hadn’t forgotten. He broke the kiss by murmuring your name against your lips as you let out small pants against his. You felt them twitch into a swooped grin under yours before he pulled away completely, and then he was watching you as you caught your breath, leaning his side into the cushions again. “I do want to talk about these things with you. I want you to know about my world. Want you to understand everything.” 

You resumed your position, too, though you were situated a little closer to him than you had been before, your knee stacked over his. “Good,” you were able to get the word out between breaths. Nodding, you extended your bent knee so that your leg was draped completely over his. “I want that, too.” His palm flattened over the top of your thigh and you sighed at the sensation of his touch. “It just…” You shrugged. “Seemed like maybe there was something you didn’t want to say, and I don’t want to -” 

He cut you off by moving his hand up towards your hip and squeezing gently. You snapped your eyes to his and saw that they were clear and focused, full of intent and severity, but not sharp, their normally dark depths lightened with strips of softer gold. “No. There is nothing that I wish to keep from you. I only hesitated because I was reminded of how close I came to… losing control.” He sighed. “I was explaining to you the way the transformation from human to Other works, yes?” You nodded, and he did as well. “And you understand that the heart must be stopped in order to make the change, correct?” 

You swallowed, suddenly horribly aware of the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears. “Yes,” your answer came more quietly than you intended it to, throat tight. 

“But there is another step that is required before someone is able to reawaken as one of our kind.” Oh? Is there? You blinked at him, waiting for him to continue. “They would need to be given enough of our blood to stimulate the cellular reaction that makes a second life possible.” Your mind flashed to the small amount of Ellaria’s blood that you drank in order to heal your wounds, the taste of it filling your mouth momentarily. That was just… barely a mouthful though. You swallowed the excess saliva the memory had drummed up. What he’s talking about would have to be… a lot more. As though he could see the gears working in your mind, he nodded. “It would need to be timed just right, so that the last beat of their human heart sent the blood of the Other through their veins. And then there would be a very long hibernation as the body healed and was remade.” 

Despite the heavy nature of the things that he was telling you, the light touch of his hand on your leg hadn’t stalled. His thumb rolled lazily back and forth over the stitched seam of the sweatpants that you wore, and the comfort of it encouraged you to ask more questions. “And… when they do wake up?” You paused. “Do they… what’s that like?” 

Oberyn sighed. “It is very difficult for some. It can be… the transformation takes a lot out of them. It is normal for a newly changed Other to be somewhat violent. There is a…  hunger, a need for blood, but there is also an extreme vulnerability. The one responsible for the change remains responsible for their Children forever, but never more so than in the beginning of their new life. There are many gifts that come with it, but there are also dangers.” He let his gaze slip to the window, the curtains drawn to keep as much light out as possible. “The sun, starvation.” His top lip curled in anger the way that it had when he spoke Gregor Clegane’s name in that alley. “Enemies that want to destroy our kind.” 

“So then…” You waited for his attention to come back to you, his expression relaxing as you spoke. “So that’s why there’s a bond between Others and their… you call them Children? Because they share the same blood?” 

“Yes.” He nodded. “And it is why there can never be a stronger bond than there is between one of our kind and the first one that they create. Because every time after that their blood is more and more diluted. It is just as potent in terms of its power, but it has less of who they are at their core.” He licked his lips and narrowed his eyes. “It is why even though Ellaria and I are entwined forever, she will never have the same connection with me as she has with the first of her Children.” 

Hearing that made you ache for him. But it also made you wonder if he had ever changed anyone… and if he had, why had they not come to help him when Ellaria did? But I don’t know if I should ask that. Not yet at least. He had told you that you could ask anything and that he would answer. But that seems… so personal. You decided to wait and see if it came up naturally, clearing your throat and going in a different direction. “It was still strong enough for her to come save you.” 

Oberyn smiled at that. “Yes. And you.” 

You scooted even closer to him then, removing your leg from where it lay and shifting yourself so that you could rest your cheek against his chest. His arms wound around you and you felt his lips hover near your hairline. “You know, there was a little while there where I was afraid that she wouldn’t… that she’d be too late and…” You felt his arms tighten as his palm slid up and down your bicep. “That you wouldn’t make it and she would…” Take it out on me.

He stunned you then by chuckling. What? That’s not… I -  “I knew that Ellaria would not hurt you.” He spoke your name, his tongue wrapping it in more honey than a viper should be capable of. He pressed another kiss to your temple, leaving his lips there as he went on. “Even if I did not survive, I knew that once she saw what you did for me there would be no way that she would cause you any harm, because she would know that you had done everything that you could to help me.” 

You remembered the shocked gasp that the dark-haired woman made the moment that she placed her palms on your arms - and the way that she almost seemed to feel what you were experiencing in that moment. Her gift. Furrowing your brow, you nodded, mouth pulling into a slight frown. If you can call that a gift. You knew that it meant that Ellaria would always be able to find the truth in a tragic situation - and in turn, that she would always know precisely who to exact her revenge on. But to you it seemed as much a curse as it was a blessing, being able to experience the pain and suffering of those she touched. “She told me about her ability to… see the causes of injuries.” 

“Then you understand that she knows how… important you are to me.” She saw his injuries, too. You sucked in a sharp but quiet breath then, tilting your face upwards to look at him as he spoke your name. “You were never in any danger from Ellaria Sand.” Oberyn lifted one eyebrow and gave a minute shake of his head. “And you never will be.” 

You shivered at the way he said the word never - so final and certain. He wouldn’t just say something like that if he didn’t believe it… If it wasn’t true. Letting out a slow, controlled breath, you nodded again. “Is that…” You pressed your lips together and tried to find the right way to word your question. “Is Ellaria the only one who can… do that?” 

“She is the only one of our kind that I am aware of who has that particular gift, yes.” He pursed his lips and shrugged. “There may be one or two more in the world who can, but it is far from common. Ellaria is -” You watched as his eyes brightened when he spoke her name. “She is very powerful, very strong.” 

You finally realized that the arm his palm was gliding up and down was the same one that bore the damage from where Gregor had grabbed you in the alley. As you lay against him again, his focus shifted from your face to where his thumb was moving over the now smooth, unbroken skin beneath the short sleeve of your shirt, and it wasn’t until then that you noticed that it wasn’t just the bitemarks that were gone - there was also no longer any visible evidence that the Mountain had ever laid his hands on you. Ellaria must have taken the bandage off while I was sleeping. It’s… 

“She was able to heal all of your injuries.” He kept his gaze on your upper arm for another second, then continued. “Even where I could not.” 

Wait, what? You picked up your head then, eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Oberyn.” He can’t be upset with himself for that…can he?  “You were… you had to -” 

“I do not mean that in any way but the truth, even if I wish that it were different.” He sighed and went on to explain. “The healing properties in my blood allow me to heal my own wounds -” He indicated his stomach before encircling your wrist with his fingers and turning your arm to expose the underside. Stroking the backs of his knuckles over the soft skin of your forearm, he stopped when they landed at the site of the first place his teeth pierced your skin. “- as well as any wounds that I inflict.” At his words, you remembered how absolutely stunned you’d been to find your skin unblemished immediately after he’d drank from you that first night. He smirked then, surprising you. “When I am not dying of an unknown poison, that is.” 

It wasn’t even remotely funny, but you couldn’t help the short laugh that slipped out. He is unbelievable. Except he wasn’t. You believed every word that the man had told you since he confirmed his true identity to you. Every last one. 

“Ellaria’s blood is different,” he continued. “It is far more powerful than mine. She has the ability to heal anyone, human or not, no matter what the cause of the wound was. The amount that she gave you was small, but the gift that she gave you was not, and she is not one to give it freely.” 

No, it wasn’t. It wasn’t at all. It - wait. You sat up then, just enough to face him properly without having to tilt your chin back but not enough to separate completely, something he said triggering another memory. 

“Ellaria said that you… ” You sucked in a breath, lifting your fingers up to your throat. They immediately brushed the place where he had bitten, drank and then healed you all while pressing the band of his ring to the wound. Though there had been no lingering pain, no evidence, no visible mark, you felt a tingle as you touched it. You recalled the way the woman’s eyes had been drawn there when she first saw you, the curious look on her face as though she’d made a shocking discovery, and suddenly it started coming together - even if you weren’t entirely sure exactly what it was. I can’t see anything there, but… Letting out a shaky exhale, you licked your lips and blinked at Oberyn. But she definitely saw something. “She said that you gave me a gift, Oberyn.” 

He stayed silent for a beat, then brought his hand up to slip over yours, his larger fingers eclipsing yours but not removing them from your throat. “Yes,” he nodded, and as he did you felt the cool metal of his ring sweep over the bite, another rush of electricity humming through you as it did. The contact made your heart flutter and your breath catch. What is that? What does it mean? “I did. It is… not something I have ever done without asking first, without explaining. And I should have asked you before I did it.” His forehead furrowed slightly but he didn’t look away from your eyes. “I am sorry that I did not get your permission, but I -” 

You whispered his name only because you couldn’t seem to muster more volume, not because you were upset or even scared. He heard you, of course, falling silent again and waiting for you to continue. You shifted the fingers he held so that you could twine them between his, your joint hands still resting against the base of your throat. “What is it? What did you… what did you do?” 

You knew that whatever he had done had meant something. This wasn’t a simple bite. It was… different. He had fed from several places on your body and none of them tingled the same way when either of you touched them, not even the other wounds that he had been able to heal before he had become too weak to concentrate on anything more than survival. It was different, but I don’t know how. 

“There are a few different terms that my kind uses for what I did to you,” he began, pulling both of your hands away from your neck and letting his eyes linger on the place they’d occupied. “But I do not like what they imply.” Shifting his gaze back up to meet yours, he shook his head, his upper lip curling slightly. “Marking, branding… claiming.” 

Your eyes widened and you couldn’t stop the small gasp that you sucked in as he listed them off, spitting the words out almost as if they offended him. Claiming? What the…? Trying to swallow your reaction, you took a steadying breath before you responded. “What…” You licked your lips and narrowed your eyes as he raised his hand between you. “What do you call it, then?” 

“Offering protection,” he answered, curling the fingers of the hand he held up into his palm, only his thumb remaining extended. “My pendant may be what the Lannisters are after, but it is not the only piece of gold imbued with powers that I own.” 

His ring. Watching as he turned his fist, you noticed a small etching in the smooth metal that you had missed previously. Oh, that’s… The design only showed itself as it caught the light from the nearby table lamp, but when it did you recognized it right away. It was slightly stylized, the spearhead represented by a set of concentric diamonds which were then surrounded by a more modernized sunburst, but even though it differed from the original iteration there was no mistaking what it was. 

Tentatively, you reached for his hand, waiting for his nod before touching the ring. “The House Martell sigil,” you said softly, sliding the pads of two fingers over the band to feel the grooves. It was far simpler than the ornate pendant that allowed him to safely walk in the sun, but it was still extraordinary. “It’s beautiful, Oberyn.” But it… that still doesn’t explain what it means. 

Suddenly, as you thought about the terms he’d dismissed, something clicked and it made sense. A mark. A brand. Something to show that you had been claimed. You withdrew your hand, using the same two fingers to graze the place on your throat where he had pressed the ring, healing your bite wound by working his tongue around the jewelry. Your eyes darted up to find his waiting. He…  

“It is only visible to our kind,” he explained, correctly sensing that you’d pieced it together. “When one of us… marks a human,” he winced around the word mark, lowering his hand back to his lap, “it is a signal to all of the Others that they are not to be touched. Contrary to what the myths and legends will have you believe, we are not all just bloodthirsty beings with no regard for order. ” His eyes flicked from your face to the place where your fingers still rested against your skin and then back up. “Many of our kind use this as a way to equate their human companions to property.” The last word rolled off his tongue as though it tasted bitter. He followed it with your name, the sound of it much sweeter. “That is not why I gave you my sigil. I have never used it for that purpose.” 

You understood that he had a different reason for leaving his mark on a person, that it wasn’t just to label them as his preferred blood bag or as a pet that he owned. He wants the rest of the Others to know that he’s… watching over me. And I guess that means Ellaria is, too. It struck you, how primal it was, but also how it had an innocence to it. He wants to keep me safe. For… as long as I live. You tried not to think about how your lifespan would be nothing but a blip in the grand scheme of his existence, focusing only on what the mark of protection meant to him in the present. “Thank you,” you whispered. “For wanting to keep me safe.” 

Oberyn reached his hand out to stroke his ring over the invisible symbol etched into your skin once more, the fiery lick of tingles spreading through your body as it lingered there. Your eyes slipped shut as you exhaled a ragged breath, and then you heard your name, eyelids fluttering open again at the sound. “I have not done this… protected a human in a very long time.” 

Is that why Ellaria was so… why she seemed shocked to see it? You wet your lips and took a breath. “How long?” 

His gaze shifted from your throat to your lips and then back up to lock with your eyes. “It has been almost four hundred years since I… since someone mattered enough to me to do this.” Oh, shit.

Four hundred years. Even as a historian, that amount of time was difficult for you to quantify. That’s six lifetimes. He must’ve met thousands of people in that much time. Maybe millions. The numbers made your head spin and even though you could feel the questions tumbling in your brain, multiplying as they bumped into one another, all you could manage in response was the strained whisper of his name. 

Why me? Why after all that time? Who was the last person? What happened to them? Did they become like you… or did they die? Instead of leaving you to struggle with what he’d just told you, and without waiting for you to settle on one question and ask it, he openly offered more. 

“Aside from Ellaria, I have always preferred the companionship of humans to Others. That is not to say that I have not taken my own kind as lovers,” he added. “But it is different with humans. There is… the emotions are stronger, the reactions less controlled. It is more genuine to be with them, more real.” 

You hummed, knowing exactly what he meant by that, the reactions he brought about in you wildly flaring in ways you’d never be able to rein in, even if you’d wanted to. But that doesn’t explain why he hasn’t done this in so long. There had to have been other men and women that he’d spent time with over the span of that many centuries. So why didn’t he… mark any of them? 

“You are wondering why I have not used this -” he held up his thumb, the ring drawing your eye immediately as he did - “in four hundred years, yes?” 

An incredulous little huff escaped your lips as you raised one hand to pinch the bridge of your nose. “Are you reading my mind now, too?”  

“No. I cannot do that,” he replied, reaching to take your hand away from your face. “But it is the logical thing to wonder about, and you are a very smart woman.” 

Even though you were still completely stunned by the admission he’d just made, you felt your entire body warm at his compliment. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” you mumbled through a smirk, and he let out a small chuckle. “But… yes. That’s…” You took your bottom lip between your teeth as you thought. “I’m wondering why you haven’t wanted to give anyone your sigil in so long… and why you do now.”

Oberyn nodded. “I told you that the reason that I chose this life was to have a chance to avenge my sister and her children, that I did not choose immortality just to spend eternity seeking pleasure.” You agreed, and he went on. “That does not mean that it has not been a… fortunate perk, finding people with whom I enjoy sharing my time and my body.”  

You understood that. Forever would be a long time to spend without having fun, without finding ways to occupy his time that weren’t focused on revenge and anger. But you realized that where at the onset of this conversation you considered yourself to be simply a distraction for him - a temporary perk -  what he had revealed since then told you that he considered you to be more than that. The realization made your chest swell, your heart flipping inside of it as you struggled to understand. 

“I used to allow myself to develop feelings for them beyond pleasure,” he continued. “It may be hard to believe given my recorded history, but I used to let myself fall in love. Often. And when I did, I would ask my companions if they would allow me to give them the gift of my protection. They almost always said yes.” 

Is he… what is he saying? He can’t be… he can’t love me, we haven’t even… we haven’t done more than kiss and he marked me. He can’t love me, it has to be in thanks for trying to save him, that has to be it. You felt heat - not warmth - a scorching heat tear through your body at the implications of his words and your haphazard attempt to understand the meaning behind them. “They…” Trying to regroup, you forced yourself to swallow the knot that threatened to choke you. “They must have been in love with you, too, Oberyn.” Of course they were… who wouldn’t be after spending enough time with him to get to that point? 

He hummed, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. “Yes, many of them were. Some… some I think hoped that the offer of protection would lead to more.” He narrowed his eyes. “To a more permanent offer.” He means they wanted to be changed. Wanted him to offer them what he has. He sighed. “But I was not… I have not been able to make that offer.” 

Oh. Your forehead creased as your head cocked to one side. Does he mean that he… can’t change someone? You didn’t think that was the case, but you weren’t sure. Or does he just mean that he… won’t?  

Again, he didn’t wait for you to ask to continue his explanation, and you were glad for that. “I know that death is a part of human life. It is a part of all life, even mine, but it comes more swiftly for humans than it does for … for beings like me.” He sighed, the sound deep, full of grief and sadness. Oh, Oberyn. Without thinking, you reached out to run your fingers through the hair that curled over the shell of his ear, tracing the curve of it, your touch eliciting a throaty groan from him as his eyes fell shut. “But that does not mean that each time I lost one of them it became easier to deal with.” 

“Of course it doesn’t,” you said softly, heart breaking again for all the loss that he must have known. “Death is… never easy.” Especially when love is involved. 

“No,” he responded, opening his eyes. Turning his head, he left a kiss to the base of your wrist and brought your hand away from the side of his face. “It never is.” He sighed. “But I thought that I could make it easier on myself if I… stopped forming such strong attachments. The last time I lost someone that I… cared a great deal for was the last time that I have made the choice to offer my protection. To… tie myself to a person in any way.” Until now. “Until I met you.” Your breath hitched and and your chest tightened as he said your name. “From the moment that I first met you I felt… a pull. A strong pull… like the one that I first felt with Ellaria and I -” You gasped at the comparison, unable to take another breath for long seconds. What? “I cannot lose you. I will not.” 

You knew that he had no reason to lie or to mislead you by expressing what he felt about you and how much he cared for you, so even as incredible as his proclamations were, you believed him. But I’m not like him. I’m not… I’m mortal. You sighed and finally found your voice. “But you will, eventually.” It hurt to think about it, even if it was a fact. And you have to know that, Oberyn. “I won’t live forever, even with this.” You tilted your head so that he could see the imprint that he had left on your throat, fingers coming up to skate over the mark. “You can keep me safe from some things. But unless you… change me, I’ll eventually-” 

“I cannot do that.” The longing was back in his voice, the emotion tinting his eyes, too. 

You sighed. “I’m not asking you to, Oberyn.” Shaking your head, you continued. “I wouldn’t expect that. Don’t expect that you’d… want me around forever.” His mouth fell open then, and you weren’t sure if you’d said the wrong thing, or if he was relieved to hear you accept that he would not be making the offer of immortality to you. But when he remained silent, you began to worry that you’d misunderstood something or perhaps even offended or hurt him somehow. Fuck. I… I need a minute. Clearing your throat, you tried to give him a small smile, hoping that it felt warmer to him than it did on your own lips. “I think I need to… take a breather if that’s alright? Get cleaned up.” And think about all of… this. 

“Of course.” His answer came without pause, and with no indication that he was upset with you. “Are you… do you need help? Getting to the other room?” He stood and watched as you rose from the couch, slowly but not at all as unstable as you’d been before Ellaria had treated you and healed you only hours earlier. 

“No, I’m…” You shook your head. “I’m alright. I can make it.” 

He nodded once. “Alright. But if you do not mind, I would like to be… close, in case you feel light headed or…” His eyes trailed over your face and body. “Is it alright if I wait for you in the bedroom? That way I will be able to get to you if you need me.” 

It was almost overwhelming, the way that he seemed so attuned to how fragile you were, but you chose to see it for what it was - pure concern and care - and that made your heart open even more for him. “That’s fine, Oberyn.” 

It was the only comfort that you could offer him, and you were glad to see that it seemed to work, the man giving you space as the two of you walked towards the bedroom that you spent the first night in and where you had slept to recover from your injuries. You made your way into the attached bathroom, the springs of the mattress creaking with his weight as he sat on the edge of the bed, and let out another long sigh that you knew he would be able to hear even through the closed door. 

That was… a lot. Stepping over to the shower, you slid the frosted glass door along its track and flipped the tap handle. In a matter of minutes the small tiled space was full of warm steam. You shucked your clothing, eager to feel the hot water on your skin, to let it melt away some of the things you were thinking, and hopefully to find clarity in other things. Some of them, at least.

You weren’t sure how long you stood beneath the rainfall showerhead, the water soaking your hair and drenching your body, but it had been long enough for you to start to feel more like yourself than you had since you left the Golden Lion party. 

As the last few days’ worth of stress and grime were washed clean, you found yourself thinking more clearly about everything that Oberyn had said. Though there were still a few gray spots in your understanding of it all, he had explained most of the things that you had questions about - his relationship with Ellaria and what she meant to him, the connections that he made with other lovers, the process that he had to undergo to become one of the Others, the gift that Ellaria had referenced… 

You stroked your wet fingertips thoughtfully over the invisible mark on your throat and focused on what it meant. Four hundred years of protecting himself from the pain of losing someone he cared for… and he had thrown that away to extend his protection to you after only knowing you for a few days. Sliding your hand up and over your hair, you slicked the water from it and let it slosh noisily against the shower floor, chin tilted up to tip your head back. And he said that he can’t lose me but he also… he said he couldn’t change me. Blowing out a breath, water spraying from your lips, you amended that thought. 

No. You dropped your chin and opened your eyes. He said he couldn’t offer that.

Suddenly the longing in his voice, the need for the thing he’d been denying himself made complete sense. 

He’s never changed anyone. He hadn’t outright said those words to you, but you thought about everything that he had said, and the equation balanced itself for you - the way he spoke of Ellaria’s connection with her first Child, the pain in his eyes when he told you about the mortals that he’d loved and lost over the years.  He’s… holding himself back from that. You blinked at the stark white surface of the wall in front of you, water beading and trickling down the grooves in the grout. But why? Even though the room was fogged with clouds of steam you felt a chill move through you. He’s never denied himself anything. 

Deciding to take that as your cue, you turned the tap to the off position, the water stopping abruptly. I need to know why. You opened the shower door and reached for a towel, using it to dry yourself off while you went over what you knew and what you still needed answers to. The only completely blank space - aside from confirming your theory that Oberyn had never changed anyone - had been finding out who Tyene was and why Ellaria was meeting with her. At first you thought it was possible that she had been created by Oberyn. You’d even thought briefly that perhaps she had been the last one that he gave his mark to, and that she had then been changed, even if it was by Ellaria or someone else. But as you used the soft towel to dry off, you changed your mind again. I don’t think she’s connected to him at all… not in that way at least. 

Once you finished drying off, you swiped a hand over the mirror so that you could see yourself. Oh… Blinking in surprise at your reflection, you wrapped the towel around your body, tucking it into itself to keep it up around your chest. I look… alright? You continued to be stunned by how wholly Ellaria’s blood and the supplements that she gave you had healed your body. The last time you looked at your own reflection it had been a frightening sight - your skin stretched tight from dehydration and exhaustion, dried blood crusted over the countless bite marks, and an utterly lost, defeated look in your eyes. But now? There was absolutely no way that anyone could look at you and assume that you’d just been through the harrowing experience that had been the last few days. 

And it’s the same for him. That… gash - You shuddered as you thought about the way that the diseased flesh of Oberyn’s wound looked. That will be completely gone, too. Even if there were still things that you were unsure about, that was not one of them, and it made you extremely happy. I need to see that. Need to see him… and I need to know more. 

You used the toothbrush and toothpaste in the medicine cabinet to brush your teeth and ran your fingers loosely over your hair to pull it back. Then, letting out a breath, reached for the door. Your fingers closed around the metallic handle and you twisted it, pulling it open. 

Residual steam from the shower billowed out over your head and around your shoulders, seeking the cooler air of the bedroom to dissipate and dissolve into. For a second or two before it vanished, the wispy vapor obscured your vision and you couldn’t fully see him until it cleared. When it did, you gasped, your eyes landing on Oberyn’s bare chest. 

Though you’d seen him without his shirt the first night you spent in the apartment together, you were unprepared for how different it would be to see him like this once he was healed - even if you had just thought about it moments before. Blinking, you lowered your view down to where the enormous gash in his stomach had been, and with utter relief you saw that it was completely closed. Oh, thank fuck. You let out a breath in a huff and dropped your hand from the doorknob as you noticed that the new skin covering the area was only slightly lighter in color than the rest of his body. That means he’s healing himself again. It means he’s… It means she really saved him.  

Between that fact and the things you’d thought about under the flow of the water, it was enough to bring tears to your eyes. 

He was on his feet the second that yours crossed from the tile to the carpet, your name leaving his lips as he stood. “What’s wrong?” Making it to your side much more quickly than he’d been capable of only hours ago, he reached for you. “What is it?” You felt his hands meet your body, one at your hip, the other sliding along the side of your neck, yours automatically landing on his chest and shoulder, and you let him kiss the crest of your cheek, right beneath your eye. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m more than alright, Oberyn.” You nodded and looked up at him. “I’m just… I’m glad to see that you are, too.” Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his collarbone. 

He sighed at the contact, the hand he had on your neck slipping around to cradle the back of your head. “Yes,” he smiled as you looked up at him again. “I am glad that it is gone also. It was not a very good look for me.”  

You laughed at that, and at first, he did too. But his laughter fell flat as his eyebrows came together to wrinkle his forehead, and you followed his focus to the top of your left shoulder. What is he doing? The tips of his fingers skated over the skin there, and you knew that he was thinking about what he’d had to do to survive. 

“They’re gone,” you whispered, reaching across your body to cover his hand on your shoulder with yours. He doesn’t need to punish himself for this. “There won’t even…” He let you bring his hand down between the two of you. “Oberyn.” You used your other hand to direct his face back to yours, his gaze still stuck on the place you’d just dragged his fingers from. When his eyes met yours you found them full - of life and passion and anguish and anger but also full of gratitude, of relief and acceptance. It almost knocked the air from your lungs to see all of that swirling in the dark umber depths of his irises. You sucked in a breath and let it back out in a measured sigh. “They’re gone, Oberyn.” You swept your thumb over his cheek before letting your palm slide down to the side of his neck. “No scars.” 

His eyebrow twitched and you felt the strain it took for him not to look back at the slope of your shoulder, the ridge of your collarbone or the column of your throat. “I can see them,” he finally said, swallowing before he continued. “I will always be able to see them.” 

“I hope not,” you tried for humor, like he had done. “It’s not a great look for me, either.” 

It garnered you a tiny smile, and you took that as a win. He’ll get over this. It will just take time. Scars that couldn’t be seen typically took the longest to heal - and if anyone would understand that, it was him. 

“Is Ellaria back yet?” You asked, taking half a step back but not taking your hands away from him. “Or is she still-” 

“She is not.” He answered, letting you take his hand in yours. 

“Then…” You tugged his hand, leading him towards the bed. “Can we keep talking? I have - “ You licked your lips as he started to move his feet to follow you. “A few more questions.” 

“Of course,” he answered, climbing onto the mattress and turning to pull you with him. “As long as we can talk like this.” 

You knew it wasn’t actually an ultimatum and that he would answer your questions no matter where you sat, but as he wrapped you in his arms so that your back was against his front, caged between his legs and surrounded in his warmth, you couldn’t think of a single other place on the planet that you would rather be. “Of course,” you mumbled back, turning your head to kiss his bicep. 

“Alright then,” he tightened his hold briefly before relaxing it. “Go ahead.” 

You’d gone back and forth over which of your remaining questions to start with, but in the end decided to start with the one you were sure was the larger of the two. “I’m… sorry, if this is… if what I’m asking is too personal? But I -” 

He cut you off, lips close to your ear as he spoke your name. “I told you, there is nothing I wish to keep from you.” You felt the tip of his nose brush the shell of your ear. “Ask whatever is on your mind, and I will answer.” 

Okay… You swallowed and nodded, diving in. “You’ve never turned anyone, have you, Oberyn?” Holding your breath, you waited for his reaction, whatever it might be. But all that came was his answer, plain and truthful. 

“I have not.” His lips were still behind your ear, so he left a kiss there along with his response. “You figured that one out, hmm?” You felt his fingers swim beneath the towel to find the skin of your sides, the tips of them moving absently up and down. “I told you, you are a very smart woman.” 

I was right. You let the breath you’d been holding in out in a huff. “But…” But why not? Why haven’t you?

“You want to know why.” It wasn’t a question, and he didn’t phrase it as one. “Why didn’t I offer to change any of my companions? My lovers?” He continued to trail his touch soothingly over your sides, and your fingers found their way to his forearm. “Why I let them go instead of keeping them with me? Connected to me?”

Though neither of you were touching the sigil mark on your neck, it pricked with tingles. “Yes,” you breathed. 

He cleared his throat and waited a beat before answering. “There is… something else to consider when one of our kind decides to change someone. Something other than just if we would like to… how did you say it? Keep someone around forever?” 

Shit. You winced, recalling the way his expression had changed when you said that. “Oberyn, I’m s-” 

He let out a small laugh and pressed his palm against your abdomen, and you found yourself wishing that you’d removed the towel before laying against him. “Do not apologize, it’s alright.” You released a breath through your nose and continued to drag your fingernails over his arm. “It is just… not as simple as choosing someone that you would like to keep close to you. It… when one of our kind changes someone, it is not only their blood that they share. There is also a transfer of traits - of our strongest traits - into the person being changed.” 

You furrowed your brow in concentration as you thought about what he’d said, but you couldn’t think of anything you’d seen of his personality that would preclude him from changing a human. He hasn’t shown me… any negative traits, so what is he concerned about? “So, does that mean that you… that Ellaria passed some of herself to you?” 

Though you weren’t looking at him you could tell that there was a smile still on his face. “She did. Ellaria and I were always very much alike,” he explained. “I always had a passion for life, but she enhanced that in me, made me more open to seeking out enjoyment, excitement, pleasure.” He kissed the space behind your ear, nipping gently at your earlobe but not breaking the skin. “I was very lucky that she was the one who gave me this life. Lucky that her strongest trait was a robust love of life and no shame in the way it is lived.” 

You hummed. “That is lucky.” But what… You twisted in his hold so that you could look him in the eye as you asked your next question. “Oberyn, what are you afraid of? What do you think your strongest…” You shook your head as he moved his arms to accommodate your new position. “What could possibly keep you from making that connection with someone?” 

He blinked slowly at you, taking you in almost as though he were looking at you for the first time. “The strongest thing that I feel - that I have felt for just over two thousand years?” You nodded to encourage his answer. “It is hate.” You sucked in a breath, completely caught off guard. “Vengeance. The drive to find and kill the ones responsible for Elia’s murder. For my niece and nephew’s murders. For the suffering of so many others.” He shook his head, reaching to trace his fingers up the side of your face before cupping your cheek. “It is a terrible, gnawing thing that I would not want to condemn anyone to. So I will not. I will not do that to anyone until after I satisfy that urge. Until Gregor and the Lanisters are dead for good.” 

You hadn’t realized that tears had sprung to your eyes again until he was brushing them away. “Oberyn…” 

“Shh,” he soothed. “Do not cry for me.” He shook his head and continued to use his thumb to erase the droplets from your cheeks almost before they could form. “I have a feeling that things will be different soon. That I will soon be finished with my revenge and then…” He nodded as you took a shaky breath. “Then I will be free to make that offer.” 

You swallowed, feeling your heart race as you processed what he had just said. “I… I hope you find the right person to -” 

Like he’d done earlier, he leaned in to kiss the rest of the words from your lips. Less forcefully this time, and not as long-lasting, but just as intentional. “I have.” You felt the twitch of his brow as he rested his forehead against yours. “I have found the perfect person.” 

There was no containing the whimper that fell from you then, your chest heaving with the weight of his words. He didn’t… didn’t say it was me. I … do I want that? Would I want that? You realized that the answer would be a resounding yes, no matter what the consequences would be, and while that was slightly frightening, your immediate reaction to even the idea of letting him change you, you knew where you stood. But I need to stop. He… You took a deep breath and re-centered your focus. I can’t get ahead of myself. Even if he is. 

“That makes me happy to hear, Oberyn.” Very happy. Even if it isn’t me. Even if it can’t be me. He smiled at that and you settled against him again. “I thought for a minute that… that maybe the person Ellaria was meeting with, Tyene? I thought maybe she was… that you’d changed her, but after you said some of the things that you did I realized that… wasn’t the case.” 

Oberyn let out a sigh that turned into a small chuckle, and then you felt his lips at the crown of your head. “You and Ellaria are more alike than either of you know.” What? “She… the last time that I gave my sigil to a human? She tried to convince me to change them.” That shocked you, too, but you remained silent and let him continue at his own pace. “She saw how much I cared for them and she did not want me to lose them, and she thought that maybe if I saw what could be possible, if she showed me the complete process of a transformation that I might… change my mind.” 

You felt the towel around your body come undone, though he was no longer sliding his hands beneath it. But neither of you moved to fix it, letting it pool loosely over your sides. What he was saying was far more important than a piece of fabric, and both of you knew that. 

“Tyene was more than willing to accept Ellaria’s offer, and so I entertained her attempt to… show me what I was missing.” He finally dragged the limp towel off of your body, and you heard him swear under his breath as he saw all of you for the first time. Though you were still sorting through all of the things you were feeling after his most recent revelations, you couldn’t deny that hearing his reaction to your body made you melt just a little more for him. He murmured your name and all you could do was hum in response. “I trust Tyene with my life and I have grown fond of her as a friend and an ally.” He let his gaze flick down over your body again, tongue slipping out to wet his lips. “But I am still glad that I did not change her… or the person that Ellaria was trying to convince me to.” 

Your lungs emptied in one gust and you sucked in a new breath as you rolled off of him, onto your side so that he would have an even more unimpeded view - if he wanted it. “Yeah?” 

He released a throaty groan as he propped himself up onto one elbow, letting his other hand curve over your bare hip. Nodding, he let that same hand begin to climb up your side as he inched closer. “Yes.” Before you could register his movement he was using the hand on your hip to turn you completely to your back, the man hovering over you and making it nearly impossible to breathe despite not dropping any of his weight on you. Oh, fuck. “Very glad.” 

Tag list post coming separately! 

[something-tofightfor]

Aphelion - 6

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand

Word Count: 9,500

*Please be sure to consider all chapter warnings before reading! Warnings will be updated for each chapter in individual posts as well as on the Masterlist.)

Rating: M. This one is serious. You’ve been warned. 

Warnings: blood, serious injury (Reader and Oberyn), discussion of/acceptance of death, Oberyn doesn’t explicitly ask for permission every time he drinks, talk of the past, vampires and other such supernatural things

Summary: Reaching out to Ellaria doesn’t mean that she’s going to get to you right away ... so where does this leave you and Oberyn in the between-time? 

With both of you growing weaker by the minute, all you can do is find ways to pass the time, and hope for a little extra ‘help’ from your surroundings... and when Oberyn asks for one last favor, there’s no way you can deny him.

A/N: This has been a long time coming, but it was really important for us to get this chapter right, and we wanted to take our time. @the-blind-assassin-12 really hope that you ‘enjoy’ (as much as possible) this chapter - we can promise that from here on out, things won’t be straight up angst or hopelessness. You’ll see. Thank you for being patient with us - if you’d like to be tagged, please feel free to ask either one of us! 

Also, if you have questions about details or plot points or the way that Westerosi history/world fits into the “real” world- please ask! We don’t want to confuse anyone.

Catch up with the Aphelion masterlist here

(header made by @valkblue)

You were hovering in the stillness between life and sleep when you heard him speak your name. 

Oberyn’s voice met your ear like a magnet, pulling you up and fully back into the waking world. Opening your eyes and blinking a few times to adjust to the light in the room, you took a deep breath inthrough your nose. It’s morning. His arm was still around your waist, keeping you close to his body, and for half a second you let yourself revel in that thought. It’s morning and we made it. 

You didn’t notice the threadbare tone in his voice as he tried to wake you. Or the heaviness of the limb he had draped over you, no longer holding tightly but laying like dead weight over your ribs. Not at first. 

We’re alive. Both of us.   

“Oberyn.” You mumbled his name, the soft sheets rustling in your ear and rubbing against your exposed flesh as you turned to face him. There was a low frequency hum in the back of your brain that told you it was silly, out of place, but your next words seemed to form in spite of that warning. “Good morning… are you feeling -” 

He cut you off with your name again, but this time you heard what you had previously missed; the thin, weakened sound of it. “Please… I n-need you to -” A choking cough hacked at the rest of his words, the rest of his request splintering into a low, anguished moan.  

At that you stiffened, eyes going wide as the full severity of the situation smacked you again in the light of day. No. Suddenly you realized that though you’d made it through the night, you yourself were far from fine. Your whole body felt sluggish, your arms and shoulders and the back of your neck sharply stinging in places. There was a deep, empty ache in your stomach along with an arid burn in your throat, and you realized that you could feel each painfully slow beat of your heart as it knocked at your sternum. Oh, fuck, he…

He looked twice as bad as you felt. 

His cheeks had gone sallow, the dark circles beneath his eyes emphasizing the sickly tinge of his complexion. You let out a ragged breath as you brought your hand up to brush the hair out of his face,  fingertips grazing his forehead and drawing a shocked little gasp from your lips. No, no… no. He was no longer warm to the touch, his skin much cooler than it had been only hours before, and it filled you with icy fear. Oberyn… 

A barrage of images tumbled through your brain as your mind and body caught up with reality. The kiss he’d given you at the party, Gregor’s enormous frame eclipsing your view of the street from the alley, watching the brute’s longsword pierce through Oberyn’s middle, reaching the safehouse, letting him take what he needed from you and then everything that followed. The theories that he’d confirmed, the things he’d told you. His lips, his arms, his broad width pressed behind you. Blood. Empty kitchen cabinets. Dizziness. Dark veins and dead flesh. Desperation. Panic.

The hope that you let gather and swell in your chest when he had made contact with Ellaria popped, leaving you utterly deflated. You had only heard one half of the phone call, so you hadn’t caught every word that the other woman had said. But there were two things that you had heard clearly despite the fact that the phone was pressed to Oberyn’s ear. 

“Do not forget what you promised me, Oberyn Martell.” 

You had no idea what that was in reference to, and you didn’t feel as though it was your place to ask what he had promised to the woman who had made him what he was, so you had chosen to focus on the thing you did understand. 

“Stay where you are. Give me 36 hours.” 

They had said little else to one another before the call ended, and though you’d heard the amount of time it would take her to reach the two of you, you let the small smile that was lightening Oberyn’s eyes do the same to your heart. Your last conscious thought had been one of relief, and the two of you had fallen back to sleep almost immediately after, wrapped in the warmth of the hope Ellaria had given to you. Now though, you felt frozen as her words echoed in your memory. 

36 hours. 

That was the soonest that she could get to where you were - the soonest that she could get to him. A day and a half. You launched into a frenzy of questions that came too quickly for your depleted brain to answer. What time was it when she said that, 8? 8:30? I need to check the…where’s the - Your eyes darted over his shoulder, frantically searching for the phone he’d used to contact her so that you could check the call log, but it wasn’t on the bedside table. Did it fall? Where’s… Suddenly you remembered the loud snap of plastic as he’d destroyed the phone you used to call Nora, and realized he must have done the same with the one he’d called Ellaria on. Fuck. Glancing over the side of the bed you saw one half of the broken screen and knew you were right. How much longer do we have? What time is it now? 

Instead of the phone you’d been looking for, you found a small digital clock next to the lamp. The numbers glowed with a fuzzy green halo, and you had to strain your focus, narrowing your eyes to read them properly. 11:38 am. That means… You struggled through the fog, trying to count the time. If it was…then that’s 21 hours left. 

Just under a day. 

Licking your dry lips, you returned your eyes to his face. “Oberyn, you have to hold on.” Your voice wavered and cracked as you felt him place his hand in the center of your chest. His palm was cool, even  through the cotton tee that you wore. Trying not to choke on your terror, you continued to plead with him. “You… Ellaria’s on her way, remember? You have to -” He needs to feed again. When was the last time he - “Oberyn, you need to dr -”

Your words fell apart before you could finish. Is that..? Oh, fuck. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed the bite marks covering your arms for the first time since waking up. Another wave of memories from the night before crashed through your dizzy brain - his lips at your shoulder and collarbone, his teeth piercing your wrists andyour biceps, his muffled groans and half-mumbled words laced with pain. There’s… there’s so many, and - Though you couldn’t be sure if you had woken up each time or if he had even really been fully conscious of it himself, it was clear that he had fed from you several times throughout the night. And he didn’t heal them. You felt the desperation deepening as you took in even more sets of puncture wounds scattered over your wrists and the underside of your forearms. There was dried blood sticking to the skin of your inner elbow, staining your shirt and the sheets you slept on a rusty brownish-red color in places. Any of them. 

You didn’t know for sure, but you suspected that the only reason that he hadn’t healed the marks left behind by his bites was that he couldn’t. The first few times he had taken blood from you, you felt his tongue swipe over the place where he’d pierced your flesh, a tingling sensation lasting a few seconds before vanishing and taking all visible and physical evidence of the wound with it. Then there was the single bite on the column of your throat - the one he’d said was out of want, not need. That one had been different in every way, but especially in the way that he’d resealed your torn skin, pressing the smooth metal of his ring to your neck as his tongue worked around it. Whatever that was, it… it must have taken something out of him. It must’ve… I don’t know. I just don’t know.

All you knew was that he needed to take more. Clearing your throat, you finished what you had started to tell him before you noticed your blood-stained limbs. “You need to drink, Oberyn.” 

His eyes closed as he pressed his hand more firmly over your heart, head slowly moving back and forth. Before he even spoke you knew what he was going to say, the realization seizing you all at once. “I cannot do that.” Your lungs shuddered beneath his touch as you released a small sob. But - “You would…” He gingerly moved himself closer, the effort creasing his brow, and leaned in, lips brushing yours far too briefly before pulling back again. Without removing his hand, he opened his eyes and you locked onto them. “I will not take your life.” 

Less than two nights ago, while teasing you for the obvious ways that your biology was responding to him, your heart racing each time he kissed or touched or even looked at you a certain way, he had also assured you that he would know if your heart rate became too slow. He would know if taking more from you would kill you, and he had sworn to you as much as to himself that he would not end your life to prolong his own.  

But you weren’t ready to accept the alternative. “You won’t…you promised.”  There has to be more food in this apartment. I’ll drink more water, just wait a few hours and then -  “You can try in….” You nodded, swallowing the thick knot forming in your throat. Sweeping your thumb slowly over his temple, your fingernails raked through his hair. “Later. In a few hours. I’ll… you can -” 

Wait. Stopping yourself mid spiral, you realized that he had asked you to do something for him before you offered him another drink. But since he had declined that, you were confused about what else you could possibly do for him to help the situation. 

As though he could read your racing thoughts as easily as he could listen to the sluggish rhythm of your heart and the steadily slowing whoosh of your pulse in your veins, he waited for you to look at him, blinking your eyes to clear your vision before speaking your name. “There is… something that I need you to help me with,” he took his hand from your chest, shakily bringing it up to where you were still carding your fingertips through his hair. Encircling your wrist, you let him pull it down to place a light kiss on the inside of it. “If you,” he released his loose grip, his palm coming to rest against the side of your neck. “If you can.” 

His eyebrows came together, a look of distress falling over his features, and it broke your heart. You had no idea what he was about to ask of you, but you knew that you would give every last ounce of your strength to do it if you could. “I’ll try.” Your voice caught, but you nodded. “What is it, Oberyn? What do you -” His thumb dragged over the crest of your cheek and you fought as hard as you could to keep yourself from bursting into tears. “What do you need me to do?” 

Sighing, his gaze strayed to the blinds that were drawn over the windows and the thin beams of light leaking in between the closed slats. “The sun.” The brightness in his eyes that had started to dim seemed to flicker back to life with those two words as he brought his focus back to you, and you clung to that tiny spark. “I would like to f… to feel it on my skin again. Before it -”

In your mind’s eye you saw him as he was the day that you met him at the rooftop bar, the orange copper light of the late afternoon sun washing over him as he tilted his chin upwards into it. You saw the way that it reflected in his deep brown eyes, picking up the hues of warm honey and liquid gold. You saw the way it emphasized the silver strands woven through his dark hair and how it made his smile even brighter. 

But in front of you, you saw him turn his face into the pillow and cough. You saw the way his shoulders shook, the sheet slipping down his waist to reveal the jagged edges of his sinister wound. You saw a splotch of black crimson blood spread on the pillowcase’s surface, saw it on his bottom lip as he turned back towards you. You saw him weakened and waning. 

You saw him need you, and that was all it took. 

“Okay.” You nodded, feeling your own features contort in distress. Please, Ellaria… hurry. You sniffed and swallowed down the thickness that threatened to choke you with every inhale and brought your lips to his bicep. They shuddered with your exhale as you pled with the only person who could give him what he truly needed right now. Please, get here in time to save him. You kissed him again before pulling back. “Okay, Oberyn. Let’s -” You tried to hold in a sob but lost that battle, the thing breaking loose somewhere between your lungs and throat, punching you in the chest and forcing you to start again. “Let’s get up… and then we’ll - I’ll get you outside.”

Twenty minutes later, after peeling yourself from the bed and staggering to the bathroom - your reflection genuinely scaring you in ways that horror films hadn’t been able to since you were much younger - you’d splashed cold water on your face and tried in vain to pull yourself together. Knuckles straining at your skin as you clutched the ledge of the countertop with one hand, you used the other to shakily rinse some of the crusted blood from your body.

The washcloth felt like sandpaper as you dragged it up along the inside of your arm, swiping over the marks that followed the path of your veins. It didn’t erase all of the evidence of where he’d pierced your skin to try to slake his thirst, but as you switched hands to repeat the motion on your opposite arm, you convinced yourself that it was better than nothing. He hadn’t seemed to notice what he’d done to you, and in the state that he was in, you didn’t want to give him anything to second guess or regret. Not if you could help it, and certainly not if it was something that you harbored no real regrets over either. 

I’d do it again in a - You dropped the damp cloth in the sink where it landed with a heavy plop that echoed in the small tiled room. The frantic thing trapped inside your ribcage tried to mimic the sound and heft of the soaked fabric on marble, thumping hard. Sucking in a breath, you raised your eyes to face yourself, and what you saw, though still frightening, did not change your mind. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Even in your addled condition you knew that was true - and it always would be. 

Cupping your hands to catch some cool water from the tap, you brought them to your lips to drink. You sipped slowly, more water slipping through your fingers and trickling down your chin than actually making it to your mouth, but that was probably for the best. With your stomach as empty as it was, an influx of cold water would surely make you sick. But the small amount you were able to get down helped to douse the burn you felt in the back of your throat and tamped down the fiery headache starting to blaze all over your skull. Filling your palms one more time, you took a few sips before closing the tap and reaching for the last of the towels still hanging on the rod. You used it to dry your hands and then brought it up to pat your face dry, too, letting it fall to the counter when you were done. If you had more energy, you would have folded it and hung it back where you’d taken it from. But there were far more important things to worry about than hand towels. 

Like the spots floating in the corners of your vision, or the sluggish way that your limbs were responding to your brain’s requests for movement. For all the times you’d been sick or felt under the weather, you had never felt as weak as you were then, each small motion costing more than the last. Your stomach had stopped twisting in hunger, no longer growling audibly to alert you to its emptiness. That didn’t mean that you weren’t in desperate need of calories, though, and you knew that. Your body had simply stopped asking for what you’d been unable to give it. I have to… I’ll check the kitchen again. 

Though your tongue felt thick and the thought of actually putting food in your mouth despite how much of a deficit you knew you were in made you feel queasy, you knew that if you didn’t eat something soon there would be no possible way that you would survive letting Oberyn feed on you again. And he has to. That he needed it just as badly as you needed to replenish yourself was something else you knew, and so was the fact that neither of you were likely to make it much longer if you couldn’t find something to sustain you - at least until Ellaria got there. 

In the darkest corner of your mind, you unboxed the thought that everything would be worth it if the woman made it in time to save Oberyn - that if he lived long enough to fulfill his need for vengeance on the Mountain, on Cersei and the Lannisters, your… sacrifice would be well worth it. 

But that’s not what he… he won’t. Taking a slow breath, you tried to steady yourself. He needed your help in another way, and you needed to try to give it to him. With one last look at your ghastly reflection, you released a sigh and turned from the mirror, reaching for the light switch to plunge the bathroom back into darkness.

Returning to the bedroom, you found him sitting up on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees and his head hung low, chin making contact with his chest. Still wearing nothing but a pair of loose sweatpants and the intricate gold pendant that allowed him access to daylight, the hefty links of the chain bearing down on the back of his neck, he spoke without lifting his eyes from the floor. “I…tr-tried to stand, but I -” You watched the back of his head as it slowly moved from side to side. “I could not. Not without… I need you.” 

“I’m here.” You felt yourself moving towards him as though you were being pulled by some force outside yourself, almost tripping over your feet in your dizzy, dehydrated delirium. “I’m here, Oberyn, let me -” The walls spun in the span of taking one step and you reached for the dresser to steady yourself before attempting another one. 

His face turned a few degrees in your direction, focus falling on you as you clutched the furniture for support. Oberyn spoke your name, mouth downturned and eyes heavy with concern. “Are you alright?” 

“No,” you let out an exasperated scoff, eyes closed as you waited for the walls to trade places with the ceiling. Why lie? “I’m not… I don’t feel great, but I -” You swallowed and pried your eyelids open. “I want to help you. I’m going to help you.” You thought about trying to give him a smile, but didn’t want to waste the energy it would take. He didn’t say anything else and part of you realized that he knew you weren’t alright before the words were out of his mouth - that he was only asking because that’s all he could do. 

Letting go of the dresser, you took another step before he said anything else. Slowly, you crossed the carpeted space and extended your hand out to place it on the edge of the bed. You rested some of your weight over your palm for a few seconds before taking a breath and straightening up, rounding the corner of the mattress and coming to stand in front of him, fingertips trailing over the comforter. 

Trying to keep your gaze from straying to the venomous wound and the dark striations of infected veins stretching as far north as the bottom edge of his pectoral muscles, you bent down to take one of his hands from where it dangled between his knees. He brought his eyes up to meet yours as your fingertips grazed the lines of his palm. “Ready?” Your voice was small and thin when you spoke, your free hand sliding from his shoulder down to his elbow. “We’ll -” You choked on the words he’d said to you the first night you’d spent at the apartment, when he’d been the one helping you get from one room to the other. “We’ll go slow.” 

He exhaled your name, the hand you weren’t holding bracing on your hip, and then he nodded and you were pulling him to his feet. You didn’t mean to, but you grunted with the strain of handling his weight, panting unevenly as you half-muttered an apology, your forehead leaning against his bare chest. This is impossible.

The movement surprising you completely, you felt his arms come around you, holding you close to his body. As weak as his grasp was, and though you’d been the one to do the heavy lifting to get him into the standing position, it was him that kept the two of you upright, at least long enough for you to regain control. “Slow,” he reminded you, sighing into your hair before dropping a lingering kiss there. You nodded, head still resting against his sternum as you lifted your arms to encircle his waist, careful not to apply too much pressure to his injured areas. “There is no rush. We -” He took a breath, clearing his throat to try to hide the small cough that came with his exhale. But you felt the way that his chest seized and spasmed and knew that there was actually more of a rush than you’d ever been in before. He wouldn’t have woken me up otherwise. “We still have a few… few hours before the sun… before it is too -” 

“No.” You didn’t let him try to convince you that it wasn’t important, that it didn’t need to happen now. Looking up at him, you wet your lips and swallowed. “No, I can… we can do this.” I want to do this for you, Oberyn. You tried to give him a smile, fully aware that it would be a weak one if it even registered at all. Without completely separating from him, you slipped your right arm farther behind his back and around his waist, turning so that you were side by side. “C’mon,” you urged him, curling your fingers around his far hip, “Lean on me if you have to, okay?” 

Before he had another chance to protest, you took a step and he followed, matching his naturally long stride to yours. “Thank you.” The words came out under a heavy breath, and as the two of you shuffled towards the door and out into the short hallway, neither of you spoke again. 

You had no idea how long it took you to help him out into the living room. It could have been a minute, or maybe ten -your main goal was getting there without having to pick him up off the floor rather than trying to do it with speed. It wasn’t far - it was a small apartment, and since it was minimally furnished there weren’t many things obscuring your path to the sliding glass doors. Means fewer things to use for balance, though. But by the time you reached the armchair directly next to the door, taking Oberyn’s hands and placing them on the upholstered backrest of the chair, your bones ached and your entire body struggled to keep up with the demands you were making of it. “Hang on,” you instructed him through panting breaths. “Lemme… open the door, okay?” 

You hadn’t waited for his response, grabbing the door handle with both hands and leveraging your full weight to yank it along its tracks. It shouldn’t be this hard. Stumbling slightly as it moved, you opened it just wide enough for the two of you to get through before turning back to Oberyn. He was watching you, a solemn expression turning his features serious, and you realized that his eyes were honed in on your throat - to the exact spot where he’d last been able to heal you. Why? “Ellaria will…” he narrowed his gaze and blinked before lifting his eyes back up to your face as you returned to his side. “She will take care of you.” 

Or she’ll kill me.

Choosing not to respond to his assertion, you resumed the same hold you’d had on him and turned to press your lips to his side. “She’ll take care of both of us.” A thin whimper tried to slip out against his skin, but you swallowed it back down and kissed him again, steeling yourself to move. “C’mon,” you sniffed and tapped his hip, fighting off the mental image of Ellaria Sand tearing you to shreds in response to finding him beyond saving. “Just a few more steps, Oberyn.” 

You helped him out onto the balcony and into the slant of sunlight that fell over the tall privacy wall, a faint sigh of relief coming from him as the rays fell across his face. Somewhere in your subconscious it clicked then, what he had meant about having “a few more hours.” Because after a certain time the sun won’t be… the angle will be off and then… Due to the design of the privacy wall, the location of the apartment in relation to the horizon, and the time of year it was - when daytime hours were limited and darkness was in no short supply - there would only be a short window of time when the small balcony would be completely awash in warm light. Until tomorrow. The realization hit you like a bus and suddenly you were sickeningly sure of what he had been trying to say when his words had dissolved into a wheezing cough. 

“Before it is too late.” 

Your eyes burned with tears that still wouldn’t form. He doesn’t think he’ll live until tomorrow. A ragged breath stung your chest and you knew that your heart stood still as you slowly turned to look at the man that you were somehow still holding upright. He thinks he’s - A faint smile pulled at Oberyn’s lips as you took another step fully into the swath of golden light, a broken hum coming from his throat. 

You wanted so badly for it to be a comfort. You wanted to let the fact that he had responded to the feel of the sun on his skin mean that he was going to be alright, that it was helping. You hoped that it was. But you knew that fooling yourself wouldn’t change the fact that he had all but admitted to you that he didn’t think he would see another sunrise. 

He thinks he’s going to die. Tonight.

As the thought crossed your mind, your legs buckled and you couldn’t keep a strangled cry from slipping past your lips. You tried to cover your reaction by reaching for the sunbleached bench that sat next to a small table on the balcony, but knew that he’d noticed. The hand that you weren’t using to support him clutched the faded blue plastic tightly, the legs of the bench scraping over the poured cement as you moved it. But a sob chased the sound you’d tried to hide, and you used the last ounce of your strength to help him lower himself into the seat before slumping onto the ground. 

Your knees hit the hard floor one after the other, and then your arms fell across his lap. I can’t do this. Another sob emptied your lungs and drained your energy, your forehead dropping to rest against your arms, and you couldn’t remember a time when you had felt more hopeless. I can’t watch him die. I can’t - 

Before you could draw another gasping breath or let one out, you felt the welcome weight of his palm curving over the back of your head. His thumb swept slowly down towards the nape of your neck and then back up and over your hair, the motion stunningly soothing even though nothing else about the situation had changed. 

He was still fading faster than either of you were willing to admit out loud, the poison swirling through his blood angrily and only seeming to make his condition worse each time he drank from you even though the small amounts he had taken were the only thing actually keeping him alive. And instinctually you knew that you weren’t far behind him. Between struggling to stay hydrated, getting enough calories in your system to keep your heart beating, and combating what was now bordering on extreme blood loss, you could sense your own impending death the same way that you could feel the air change before a storm. 

But even through all of that, he was trying to comfort you. An intricate knot of emotions that you couldn’t name lodged in your throat at the kindness that he was offering, the man using his last reserves to ease your suffering in any way that he could even while his own pain roared. He doesn’t deserve this. He mumbled your name and you completely shattered at the way you could hear the effort it took from him just to speak. 

“Oberyn…” Your voice was hoarse and weak but you knew that he heard you, his thumb dipping down into the hollow at the base of your skull and pressing softly before dragging slowly back up. You turned your chin so that your cheek was against his thigh, blinking to clear the haze of unshed tears and locking your eyes with his. “Oberyn, I’m sorry.” A stunted breath shook your body as you let it back out, a small whine breaking through with your next words. “I’m so sorry… that I couldn’t -” 

“No.” The hand on the back of your head slid down and around to loosely cup under your chin, and you felt the tremble in his fingers as he touched you. He closed his eyes for a second and swallowed hard, taking a beat before opening them again, and when he did you felt his other hand make contact with your shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing.” 

Logically, you knew that he was right. You had done everything that you could for him to the extent of putting your own life at risk. You’d offered to help him before you knew just how dire the situation was, before he could ask, if he even would have. You had even been the one to suggest reaching out to Ellaria. But none of that was much of a balm to you knowing that all it had done was buy him a little more time, the hours you’d spent with him there in that apartment a mere blip compared to the entire span of his lifetime. Seconds. I bought him seconds. You knew you had nothing to be sorry for, but you were sorry. For everything. 

“I just -” You let your eyes slip closed and felt him use the pad of one finger to trace the lacy fringe of your lashes. The gentle contact seemed as necessary for him as it was for you. Oberyn released a small sigh as he turned his hand to let his knuckles glide down over the crest of your cheek, following the track that tears would take if they hadn’t all dried up by now. “I just wanted you to…” You let out a shaky huff and opened your eyes to find that his had never left them. His hand fell to rest along the slope of your shoulder, thumb still stroking slowly back and forth over your skin. “To have your chance, Oberyn. You… you’ve  waited so long and I-I’m just sorry that I couldn’t help you take it.”  

His mouth twitched downward into a frown. When he spoke your name again his voice sounded slightly less thin and a degree more determined. “I have told you…you’ve helped me more than you know.” 

What does that mean? Fighting the heaviness that was creeping through your entire body, you lifted your head from his thigh to look at him as clearly as you could. If you weren’t already dizzy you would have shaken your head, but you knew that doing that would hinder your ability to keep talking. Instead, you furrowed your brow and tried to keep your focus steady, tongue flicking out to wet your lips before you opened them to speak. “You said that but…”  But I want to know. I need to know. The hand that he had on your shoulder fell to your bicep, grip tightening just enough for you to notice. “But what does that mean? How… how did I… what does it matter if -” 

What does it matter if we both die?

“It matters.” The sincerity he put into those two words knocked the air from your lungs. “It matters because you reminded me of what it means to…” He winced, fingers digging lightly into your flesh as he let out a low grunt of pain, and you thought you heard him whisper the same words in Valyrian that he had said when he first discovered the injury that Gregor had left you with. I will take what is mine. “You need to get off the ground.” 

“I can’t.” Your reply was part sob, part sigh, and all truth. Your limbs felt like lead weights and you knew you weren't strong enough to lift yourself, that you had spent whatever you had left getting him outside. More than that though, you failed to see what difference it would make. 

“You can,” he responded, something close to a growl registering in his tone. “You must.” At that, you felt him use his grip to urge you to move from where you were and into the chair beside him. Though it took more effort than you thought either of you could afford to spend, you found yourself firmly situated in the second seat. “Always get up.” He reached for your hand as you leaned back in the chair. “That is the first rule that I learned. In a fight,” he spread his fingers wide enough to let yours fall between them. “Even if you know it is over… you always get back up.”

You looked down at your linked fingers, and as he closed his hand around yours you let out another small sob that broke apart in your throat. “It’s n-not over yet, Oberyn.” You tried to squeeze his hand but weren’t sure if your grip actually flexed or not. As you brought your eyes back up to look at him you were gifted with the momentary relief of seeing the hint of a smile on his face. 

“No,” he agreed, resting his head against the wall behind the bench and then rolling it to the side to see you more clearly and soak up more sunlight. You mirrored his posture, leaning back and resting your head against the stucco, turning to face him. Though you knew he didn’t need to, the man took a deep breath, his chest filling and emptying in a way that if you didn’t know he was suffering would seem completely content. “It is not.” He blinked slowly, eyelids staying closed for half a beat longer than normal before opening again. “And that is because of you.” But all I did was - “You helped me remember what it was like to be human.” 

That was an unexpected revelation and it made you gasp. Even though you knew what he was, you had only looked at him as human since the moment that you met him. And despite the fact that your skin was littered with the evidence of what he’d had to do to stay alive, you still saw him first and foremost as a person, a man, a human being. Because he is. But it made sense, when you thought about it, that as the centuries stacked up, staying connected to his humanity would become more and more difficult. 

He had told you that his daughters had lived full lives, that he found comfort and happiness in the fact that his family line was still alive through his descendants. But you could only imagine the pain he must have experienced watching his loved ones age and die as he remained youthful and unchanged. You could only guess at how it must have twisted his heart to have it happen again and again with anyone he dared to get close to throughout the ages. 

Though he hadn’t gone into detail about the things he’d done through the years in pursuit of vengeance, you knew from what he had said that he’d crossed lines that he wasn’t proud of - lines that he would never have dreamed of crossing in his first life as Oberyn Martell, Prince of Dorne. 

But in his second life? As one of the Others? Oberyn Martell had killed to survive. In another time, he might have even killed you to survive. He might have drained your blood and left your body for the LAPD to find, just another grisly, otherworldly murder that no detective on Earth would ever be able to solve. And though it seemed he hadn’t acted on those impulses in decades, though he had decided long ago that he never would again, the weight of his words hit you hard. “Oberyn?” 

“I had almost forgotten what it was like to,” he traced over the knuckle of your pointer finger with his thumb as he spoke. “To be excited to see someone.” That wasn’t at all what you were expecting, but he kept going before you had a chance to react. “To want to… get to know someone. Learn about them. Let them…” A breeze drifted through the air and he closed his eyes as it ruffled his hair. He took a second to enjoy the feeling, another hum sounding from the base of his throat, his lips pulling up almost enough to push the dimple you knew was there into his cheek, and as you watched him savor what could be the last few hours of his life, you finally found your tears. “Let them get to know me.” 

I want that too, Oberyn. But we -

“I wish we had more time. There is so much I want to tell you… ” He opened his eyes as the wind settled and immediately noticed that you were crying. “Oh, no. No, do not -” Reaching up to the corner of your eye without dislodging his hand from yours, he used the backs of your joined fingers to catch a tear as it fell. “Do not be sad for me.” He spoke your name and swept his thumb over your bottom lip to collect the salty drop that had beaded there. “You saved me. From… from becoming the monster that I once was. You saved me from dying as that and nothing more.” 

“H-how?” Now that you had started to cry the sobs poured from you out of your control. “How, Oberyn? I… you -” 

He shocked you then, using more strength than you thought he had left to pull you close enough so that your head could rest on his shoulder instead of the hard wall behind you. Once you settled, he wrapped his arm around you. As you laid your cheek against his still bare skin, you thought it felt slightly warmer than it had when you first woke up. You brought one hand up to the center of his chest, between the chains of his pendant and placed your palm over the place where his heart had gone dormant long ago. Something pricked in the back of your brain as you touched him, the pads of your fingers picking up a growing heat. No, it’s not… It’s just my mind. He’s cold. He… he’s - 

“You reminded me that there are some things that are worth dying for.” He brought his free hand up to cover yours, keeping it in place over his sternum. “That it is worth it not to lose myself. Lose…” He dragged his lips over your temple, his beard gently scratching your hairline. “Lose the man my sister knew me to be.” 

You felt yourself shake as your sobs crashed over each other like turbulent waves at the mention of Elia. Everything that he had chosen since the night of her death - the years of darkness, the violence, the things he’d sacrificed - had all been out of a fierce love for her and her children, the family that he couldn’t save. You weren’t his family, but he wanted to save you, too. 

“If I took your life,” he spoke softly as you let the fingers on his chest move over the links of his chain, and then he lifted his hand from atop yours and slowly tilted your chin up to look at him. The sun had already moved in the sky since you’d been out there, now shining in through the overhang and coming over the privacy wall to glint off of his hair, brightening his eyes in a way that was painful because he looked almost like himself again. “I would not forgive myself.” 

He released your chin and let you rest against him again, and though he didn’t return his hand to yours, you kept your palm where it was. Moving your thumb in an arch over his skin, you let your tears flow until they dried up. “I would.” You whispered it but you knew he heard you. “I would forgive you, if you -” 

“Shh,” he soothed as another warm current of late fall air drifted over your bodies. “You… you will not have to.” He cleared his throat, the arm he had around you shifting so that he could touch you with that hand, too. “Ellaria will come.” He took a deep breath and you listened to the clang of chimes tinkling on someone else’s patio, the fact that to the left and right of you there were people in apartments going about their lives ignorant of the things you had learned in the last few days making everything you’d ever known feel absurd. But as he continued, you drowned out the sound of hollowed out bamboo shoots knocking together to focus on his words. “She will… she will have what she needs to help you.” He swallowed and you could feel the tensing of his muscles as he did. “We - she and I have developed… very advanced treatments for healing. For our kind, and for humans. I… I used what I learned at the citadel and she -” He let his hand drift up your arm, over your shoulder and to the place on your throat where he had bitten and drank from you. “She will heal you where I could not.” 

A large part of you was still terrified that if Ellaria arrived to find you alone with Oberyn’s corpse, that she would leave the apartment with two bodies in it. No. Just mine, because there’s no way she’d leave him here. But you didn’t voice that fear to him. He seemed sure that she would not harm you, that you could trust her to help, and if the last thing you could give him was peace of mind, you would be damned if you were going to ruin that for him. 

“She’ll… she’ll be able to heal you, too.”  

He sighed. “I hope you are right.” But you don’t think I am… do you? “For now,” he hummed as a passing cloud opened up an expanse of sunlit sky, dripping more golden warmth over the two of you. “For now, this is enough.” 

You swallowed. No, it isn’t. “Okay, Oberyn.” Your voice had degraded back to a whisper. “Just… just let me know if - when you need to go back in. We can stay out here as long as you want.” It isn’t enough. Not at all. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, the hollow clang of windchimes filling your ears again as you closed your eyes. 

You stayed out on the balcony until almost 4 PM, when the last sliver of sunlight had passed over the privacy wall for the day, the sun getting ready to start its plunge beneath the horizon. Both of you had dozed on and off intermittently, but in the moments when you were both awake and somewhat alert, Oberyn had shared small things with you - memories and thoughts, dreams he’d had and ones he’d achieved. 

He talked about Dorne, and the way the desert sand seemed to shimmer just as much as the ocean waters. He described the way that the southern winds would pick up the scent of orange blossoms in Sunspear and Lemonwood and carry them all the way up into the Reach, how on long journeys away from home he would always know he was close when he could smell the sweet citrus in the air. He told you about the palm trees, the Water Gardens, the vineyards and how easy - and fun - it was to get lost in them. 

He talked about Ellaria, and how important to him she was, how much he owed to her. He told you that she’d saved him from darkness, sometimes only by showing him what it meant to lose the light. He told you that she would like you, and that you shouldn’t be afraid of her. He talked about Elia and Doran, a small chuckle coming from him as he’d told you that he was nothing like his siblings, that they each had level heads and easy hearts to hold and to fill. 

By the time you’d gotten him back inside, back into the bed you’d woken up in, you felt how easily he had filled your heart. I hope I get a chance to tell him.

Though the sun had seemed to have an energizing effect on the man, or at least had seemed to lift his spirits and ease some of his pain, he had slipped into sleep almost immediately as you struggled to lean down and kiss his forehead. He feels …warm again. Your lips lingered for a second longer as you tried to determine if that was just your wishful thinking, the vestiges of the sun on his skin, or if it actually meant anything. It has to. 

You decided that it meant there was still hope for him as you slowly straightened up, bracing yourself on the side table. The numbers on the digital clock glowed in the dim light of the bedroom, blinking as the display switched to read 4:06pm. You had just under eighteen hours to wait until Ellaria would be there. That, in turn meant you had that much time to keep him alive. Holding on to the way you could still feel his sun-warmed skin on your lips and letting that renew your hope, you allowed yourself to believe that you would find a way. 

And you had, in the form of much needed nutrition.Two hours of painstakingly searching every drawer and cabinet in the apartment along with the closets, the shelves and the very bottom of the ice bin in the freezer had turned up one portion of severely frostbitten but still edible peas, and two melted, smashed and reformed chocolate protein bars that had gotten stuck behind the shelving in the bedside table of the bedroom you’d slept in the first night. You had only broken down into tears and slumped onto the floor a handful of times during the process, Oberyn’s “you must always get back up,” echoing in your mind and encouraging you to drag yourself back upright, and that fueled your sense of victory as you tore open the wrapper of the first protein bar and began to chew. 

It tasted terrible - stale and dry, and not at all as smooth, rich or delicious as the packaging claimed that it was, but you didn’t care. In that moment, as you sat on the floor, leaning against the bedpost and staring at your costume from two nights ago where it still hung over the chair in the corner, it was the greatest meal you’d ever had because it gave you a chance. It gave you both a chance. And that’s all we need. 

Deciding that it didn’t make sense to ration what you’d found since Ellaria would theoretically be there soon with something more substantial, you waited ten minutes and then ripped open the second bar, eating that one as well. Your stomach gurgled back to life, remembering what food was now that you’d finally been able to give it some.

Giving yourself a few minutes for the sugar you’d just consumed to work its way into your system, you thought about the burger shop you and Nora used to stop into for a bite on your way home from nights out, the meal you were currently feasting on a far cry from the smothered fries you wished you were sharing with your friend right now. I hope she’s safe. You staved off a sharp pang of sadness by imagining what she’d say if she could see you now. “You must really like this guy if you’re eating this crap.” Oh, Nora, you have no idea. You hoped you would get the chance to tell her about him at some point. 

Pushing yourself from the ground, you made your way slowly back to the kitchen. You kept one hand on the wall as you walked through the hallway, still noticeably dizzy. Even if your discovery of calories had helped to bolster the small blossom of hope that started when you kissed his forehead, you knew that some miracle peas and a couple of forgotten Clif Bars weren’t enough to tip the scales as much as you needed them to tip before you were fully in the clear. 

Reaching for the refrigerator door handle, you glanced down at your arms, marks still very visible to remind you that no amount of Gatorade or water that you could chug could magically replenish the blood that you’d lost. But as you pulled the last of the orange beverage from the brightly lit but otherwise empty shelves and drank a third of it in one gulp, you prepared yourself to give even more. I have to.

It had been easier than you thought it might be to convince him to take more from you. “It’s alright, Oberyn, I ate. I… I’m feeling -” 

But you didn’t have to say more, because as you slipped into the bed next to him, he sought out your lips with his own. Oh. You gasped as he kissed you, feeling the way that his nose wrinkled as his upper lip curled against yours. You kissed him back, sighing as you felt him bring his hand up to the side of your neck, laying two fingers to your throat. Is he…? But you knew that he was, and even though things were still very much unsure and far from over, you felt the most tired - but satisfied smile cut into your cheek. He’s checking my pulse. 

“You’re still not… not playing fair, Oberyn,” you breathed as he pulled back enough to fully look at you. 

Though he still looked like he was barely holding on, you saw a glint flicker in his eye. “I just had to be sure.” He reached for your wrist and ran his thumb over the inside of it. “I will only take… I’ll take-” 

“What you need to.” You finished for him with a small nod. “Take what you need to.” 

You felt the sharp pierce of his teeth on your skin, a soft pull as he sucked a few mouthfuls of blood from your veins, and then he was dragging his lips over the spot to clean it up - not healing it perfectly the way he would have if he’d been healthier, but not leaving you bleeding as he’d done in the middle of the night. That’s… that has to mean… something. It - 

“Will you stay here with me, now?” He licked at his lips to ensure that not a drop of what you’d just risked your life to give him went to waste. “Please?” 

You weren’t sure if you could ever turn the man down, but you knew for certain that you couldn’t deny him now. “Of course.” Your eyes strayed to the clock, noting how much time you had left. Home stretch. “Of course, Oberyn.” 

His arm fell over your waist again as you turned to take the same position you’d fallen asleep in the previous night. Before you could settle on a comfortable position for your pillow, you were floating between consciousness and dreams once more. 

The knock that woke you was loud and urgent and sounded like it was right against your eardrum. 

You inhaled deeply through your nose as you sat up too quickly, the motion making your head spin, and you clamped your eyes shut to fight it off. Beside you, you heard Oberyn groan and even though you knew he was in agony, the small sound told you that he was still there, still alive, that you’d gotten him through it. She’s here. We made it. You carefully swung your feet over the side of the bed and staggered out into the living room as the pounding on the door continued. 

Your vision was slightly blurred by the time you closed one eye to peer through the small lens built into the door, and even though you didn’t know what Ellaria Sand truly looked like, you knew what Gregor Clegane looked like, and as long as it wasn’t him trying to break down the door, you knew it was safe to open. She’s the only one that… the only one who knows we’re here. 

You caught a glimpse of a sharp eyed woman, her fist raised and poised to knock again, gold bangles rattling on her thin wrist before her knuckles were rapping at the door. As soon as both eyes were open again you were undoing the locks, fingers shaking so badly that you almost relocked the deadbolt instead of pulling it open. 

When you finally got every lock undone and twisted the knob, the woman spilled in as the door swung open, closing it behind herself in one fluid move. Spinning back to face you before you could fall over from the speed of her movement, she set the bag she was carrying down and caught both your arms in her hands to steady your balance. But the moment her palms made contact with the jagged bites on your skin, she gasped, eyes going wide and her mouth contorting as though she was in the same pain you were. 

“You have suffered for him.” Her eyes flicked down to your throat and she tilted her head, letting out a sigh. “Oh, Oberyn,” she whispered, removing one hand from your arm to run her thumb over the place her eyes were fixated. What is… what is happening? What is she - But then she shook her head, blinking and shifting her focus back to your face. “Where is he? Is he alive?”

You nodded, tears filling your lower lids to make your vision swim even more. He is. “Yes,” you managed, turning your head in the direction of the bedroom. “He’s…resting. He -” But you didn’t get to finish, because just as quickly as she’d come in and latched onto you, she was letting you go and moving toward the bedroom - toward him, leaving you to slide down the closed front door, watching the woman’s lower legs and feet as they crossed the carpet and moved away from you.

 Tags coming separately.

[something-tofightfor]

Under The Dornish Moon - June Drabbles (Days 11 + 12)

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand (Aphelion universe)

Word Count: 2,440

Rating: M; mentions of sexual situations, general angst, canonical GoT violence talk, vampires, etc. 

A/N: Alyssa and I have been meaning to expand on this story outside of regular chapters for a while and the June Drabbles event that she’s been doing (see the masterlist here) are a perfect time to do just that.  This combines prompts 11 and 12 ( barefoot + night walks). Many, many thanks to Alyssa for letting me step in and write this for Oberyn / allowing me to hijack her drabble event!

This *is* Aphelion Oberyn, but it’s outside of the timeline that we’ve established in the story. It’s intentionally somewhat vague - but it’s still really important. It might not make much sense now, but it definitely will later on. Enjoy. 

Catch up with the Aphelion masterlist here

She walked behind him, her pace much slower than his, but Oberyn didn’t turn to look back. There is no need. 

Just shy of full, the moon lit the night sky and the sand beneath his bare feet, the reflection riding the waves as they crashed gently against the sandy shore. 

He hadn’t been home in years, but the Dornish coastline was familiar, the towering walls of Sunspear castle reaching for the stars the same as they always had. Unbowed. Unbent. Unbroken. Unchanged. Repeating the words to himself as his toes sunk into the sand, Oberyn closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his chest expanding even though he didn’t need to draw air. 

Everything smelled the same, too, despite the fact that much of the city had been modernized - adapting to keep up with the changing times. But not the castle. And not the Water Gardens. Designated as historical landmarks with an exclusion zone that stretched slightly beyond the property lines, both of the Martell homes remained as he remembered them from the days he’d spent chasing his siblings through the hallways and along the paths - and no number of coffee shops or fast food franchises would ever change that. Not while I am around to make it so. 

He stopped walking, turning toward the water, and Oberyn opened his eyes again and set his shoulders, arms hanging loosely by his sides. “It is good to be home.” The man spoke quietly, though he knew his companion could hear him, even over the sound of the water. “I missed this place.” 

He kept his eyes on the water, but when she reached for his hand, he turned his wrist to take it automatically, the woman’s slim fingers sliding between his with a practiced ease. “Every time I come back I’m reminded of how beautiful it is, Oberyn.” She took her place next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder as she, too, turned her attention to the water. “I will be very sad to leave.” 

“You don’t need to.” Finally tilting his head down and toward her, Oberyn’s fingers tightened. “You can stay.” 

“No.” She laughed, the sound carrying on the breeze until it was gone, and when she spoke again, he heard the finality in her words. “No, Oberyn, we both know that I cannot.” 

In the thousands of years he’d known her, Ellaria Sand hadn’t denied Oberyn anything, and though her statement wasn’t quite breaking that tradition, it was close enough. “Will you sit with me then? Just for now?” He wet his lips, tasting the salt on them, and waited for her reply. 

“Of course, my Prince.” He dropped to the ground the moment he heard her answer, and only seconds later, Ellaria was seated, too, the woman fitting herself between his bent legs and leaning back against his chest so that he could encircle her in his arms. “It’s not time for me to go yet.” 

They sat in silence for a long time, Oberyn’s thumbs stroking over the bared skin of Ellaria’s forearms, his nose buried in her hair. It was a position they’d been in thousands of times before - in countless different places, but he’d never felt an ache in his chest quite like the one he felt that night. “Do you remember when you brought me here, after you changed me?” He turned his head to speak, cheek resting against the side of her head. “You wanted to give me a chance to say goodbye.” 

“I do.” She shifted in his arms, and he watched as she dug her toes into the sand, burying her feet beneath the grains. “It was difficult to get you out of King’s Landing, and even more difficult to get you back here while you were in the process of being reborn, but I wanted the first thing you saw when you woke to be something familiar.” 

He remembered it clearly - opening his eyes only to see Ellaria’s face inches from his own, the woman’s arms pinning him to the sandy shore while she spoke quiet words to him, tone as soothing as she could make it. “You took me to the northern beach, to one of the houses there, and -”

“And I kept you safe.” She hummed in agreement. “You opened your eyes and you saw Sunspear in the moonlight, and you weren’t any danger to anyone but yourself because I made sure of it.” She scoffed, and even though Oberyn couldn’t see her face, he knew that she was frowning. “The last place I wanted to give you my gift was in the Red Keep, but my hand was forced, and …” She paused, one arm extending so that she could place her palm against his knee. “And we had no choice. King’s Landing is ugly no matter what eyes you look at it with, but here? Dorne? It is a place worthy of being a first memory, Oberyn.”

He agreed with her, the man choosing his next words carefully. “I was angry at you back then. I’m sure you knew it, but … I thought about how to escape every day.” Escaping the situation, not… not escaping you.

“Of course you did.” She laughed again, turning in his arms so that she could kneel on the sand, facing him. “That’s why after we left here, I didn’t tell you where we were going.” She bit her lip, one hand rising to cup his cheek. “You have always been hardheaded, Oberyn. And only moreso after you became like me.” 

“I shouldn’t have been. It was … I haven’t ever apologized, but now it feels like I should.” Pressing his lips together, he narrowed his eyes, moving both hands to her waist. “Everything that’s happened, it’s made me… understand.” 

“No. You don’t need to apologize, Oberyn. Not to me.” Trailing her fingers along his jaw, she shook her head. “In a perfect world, you would have had a real chance to say goodbye, to get things taken care of. You would have been able to pack your bags and see your family one last time before we left. But you didn’t. The only thing I could give you was this - a view of the castle from a distance, a glimpse of the Water Gardens.” She was stroking the back of his head, her fingers moving through his hair in a familiar pattern. “And then a century of darkness.” 

He closed his eyes then, the reminder sending a pang through his chest. Looking back, it sounded much worse than it really had been, but while going through it, Oberyn had thought that he wasn’t going to make it. “There were days I thought that that was it, Ellaria. That the rest of my life, no matter how long it was, would be lived beneath the moon’s glow. That all I’d have to remember the daylight was the way your hair smelled when you came into a room, or the way your skin tasted. I didn’t think … You offered me a chance to avenge my family, but then as the years passed and Tywin and Cersei died of natural causes, I thought … I thought I wouldn’t get it, and that everything had been for nothing. That you gave me this life only for me to -”

“Do you still feel that way?” She blinked, urging him to tilt his head back so that he could look up at her. “After -”

“No.” He spoke clearly, head shaking back and forth. “I haven’t felt that way in many years. But it took until you showed me that what you’d said was true - that they somehow came back and the cycle always repeated itself for me to believe that it was still possible.” He was ashamed to admit that he’d doubted the woman’s stories about the Lannisters chasing the legacy of the Others throughout the centuries, but despite everything that he’d experienced, it had seemed impossible until he’d seen it with his own eyes. My desire for revenge made me blind to so much. “And then you gave me my pendant back, and everything changed again.” 

The ocean was creeping closer to them as they talked, water inching further and further up the beach, and he knew that it was only a matter of time before it was lapping at their feet, threatening to keep moving until they were sitting in it. “That was always the plan, Oberyn. At least with you. Daylight is a privilege, and there are some of us that never earn it, but I never wanted to keep you in the dark.” 

“I should have known something was happening when we traveled after staying in the same place for so long.” He smiled them, the expression genuine. “I did know something was happening when we got here.” 

“The Dornish sunlight helped to make you the man I love.” She shrugged, the woman’s hands falling from his face and moving first to his shoulders and then down to his arms, her rings cool against his skin. “Giving that back to you first was always the plan, too.” 

He remembered the night vividly - remembered the way he’d sprinted down the beach with her close behind, laughing as he reached the moonlit water and dove in, strong arms cutting through the current, his eyes open beneath the water. He remembered the elation he’d felt at being home when he sprawled out on the beach, shirtless and with his pants clinging to his legs, the woman’s dress plastered to her body as he’d held her close, kissing every inch of skin that his lips could reach. 

But it was the following morning that stood out even more, and Oberyn would never forget the way he’d reacted to Ellaria holding her hand out to help him up from the sand just as the sky to the East began to lighten. Instead of leading him back up and to the safety of the room they’d rented in an inn, she’d pressed the pendant into his palm, eyes locked with his. “Put this on, my Prince. Put this on and stay with me.” 

He’d cried then, the tears rolling down his cheeks as he stood and stared at the horizon, holding Ellaria in his arms as he felt the sunlight hit his skin for the first time in his new lifetime. He’d continued to cry even as he spun her to face him, Oberyn’s mouth descending to meet hers while he peeled the dress from her body, her hands working to undo the laces on his pants. 

They’d had their fill of each other on the beach, the sand beneath his back warming as he stared up at her, the pendant resting heavily on his chest while he looked at everything with new eyes. And when they were done with that, it was Ellaria that led him back to the water’s edge, encouraging him to sink beneath the surface once more. He kept his eyes wide open as he swam away from the shore, the rays of sun breaking through the water and turning it into shimmering explosions of color that rippled around him and over his skin. 

He’d never looked back, and though he knew that there were some that got the first taste of freedom and squandered it, Oberyn hadn’t ever wanted to. Not only did it mean that he could be with Ellaria more often, and that he could return to some semblance of a normal routine, but it also meant that his plan for revenge no longer had to be formulated around operating in the shadows. 

“It is good to have a plan, to know what you want.” He hummed and then kissed her, their mouths fitting perfectly together as they had for the entire time they’d known each other. For many minutes, Oberyn and Ellaria stayed in that position - the woman on her knees, his legs bent, thighs pressed against her hips. But he was distracted - by both his memories and by the thoughts of what was yet to come, and she knew it.

She pulled back first, her smile gentle as she watched him, and Oberyn took the time to stare, much in the same way he had when they’d first met. “You look like you have something to say.” Of course you’d see that. Cocking her head to one side, she tightened her hold on him. “Say it.” 

“I am afraid, Ellaria.” Her lips parted in surprise, but she didn’t say anything right away. “What if now that -” 

“You have nothing to be afraid of, Oberyn.” She leaned in then, and he let her, his eyes closing as she nudged along the side of his face with her nose. “Nothing at all.” Deep down, he knew that the woman was right, but he’d never once lied to her - and wasn’t about to begin. “You would not have come here again if you didn’t know that.” He felt her lips against his ear, the woman breathing his name out almost silently. “Trust yourself. Trust what you know.” 

The water reached his toes then, warm and comforting, and Oberyn’s arms tightened around the woman. “Will you stay here with me until the sun comes up? I want -” She pulled out of his arms before he could finish, gracefully rising to her feet and reaching for him. 

He took her hand and the woman easily helped him to his feet, her grip on his hand firm. “No.” There was no questioning her answer, the woman’s head moving back and forth as the breeze lifted her curls, the streak finally broken. “The next time you watch a sunrise on this coast, it won’t be with me.” She paused, one side of her mouth lifting into a smile. “But I will spend as long in your bed as you want me to today.” 

He laughed at that - his head tilted back, both eyes closed. Of course you will. “Then what are we waiting for?” 

Still hand in hand, the pair turned back and headed in the direction that they’d come from. He stayed next to the water, small waves cascading over the tops of his feet as they moved together, but Ellaria was close enough that her arm brushed against his as they retraced their steps. This beach for our bed… that isn’t a bad tradeoff. 

They made it back to their hotel room with plenty of time to spare, and by the time the sun did peek over the horizon, Oberyn and Ellaria didn’t notice, sheets tangled around their bodies and the curtains shut to block out all light. 

—

Tag list post coming separately. 

[something-tofightfor]

Aphelion 9 - Sneak peek!

Want a sneak peek of the newest chapter of Aphelion 9, which is posting tomorrow? Here you go:

--- You took a few seconds to admire the sight - both women beautiful and impeccably dressed, their tanned skin smooth and nearly glowing, even in the artificial light of the apartment. They could have passed as mother and daughter, and as you thought about it, you realized that that meant that Tyene could have passed as Oberyn’s daughter, too. A family. They look like they could be a family. 

Both were wearing clothing that looked absolutely in place for the Los Angeles autumn weather - Ellaria’s casual elegance offset by Tyene’s sophisticated streetwear, and you wondered what Oberyn looked like when he was dressed down. I’ve only really seen him at the bar and dressed like … himself. It made you realize how little you knew about his day to day life and the person he truly was, and how much you wanted to know more. I want to know everything. 

“Are you done staring?” Tyene’s arms were crossed over her chest, head tilted to one side. “If they called me rude, then -”

“Cut her some slack, little snake.” Oberyn murmured the words, one of his arms winding around you as he pulled you closer. “Her world has just been turned on its head. Five days ago, she did not know that such things as us actually existed.” Ellaria nodded once, her eyes on the two of you. “She is allowed to stare.

--- 

Catch up on the masterlist here: Aphelion Masterlist

@the-blind-assassin-12​ and I are VERY excited for this chapter. Hope you are, too.