#ellaria sand: aphelion | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

something-tofightfor · 1 year

Text

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!

80 notes · View notes

the-blind-assassin-12 · 1 year

Note

Helloo !!

I saw Aphelion on your list and i ran to ask you about it. Can you tell me more please ?

Helloooooo!! (You can't see me but I waved at the screen.)

Thanks for swinging by, anon! And thank you a billion times over for asking about Aphelion and for being so patient while this next part slowly comes together one word at a time. I know I keep saying it's almost ready for me to send off to @something-tofightfor for the co-editing/additions phase, but this time it's REALLY almost ready. Sitting at juuuuuust over 9k words at the moment and looking like it's gonna come skidding in at around 12k, so it's the home stretch for sure!

This part has A LOT of really important information and very important dialogue and visually important moments featuring Oberyn + weaponry, and I can't wait to be able to share it.

Here's a little snippet from Part Ten:

“Is that so?” Oberyn asked 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.” Circling his hands outward to the group gathered around the table, he made 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.”

Thanks again for asking about this one, anon!! It's the document I have open tonight, and the one I am the most dedicated to at the moment! I hope it will be worth the wait!!

#wip asks #wip games #wips on wips on wips #aphelion asks #aphelion oberyn #co-written with rachael #oberyn martell vampire au #oberyn martell x female reader #oberyn martell x you #ellaria sand #toban dayne #tyrion lannister #this one is an all play #game of thrones fanfiction #oberyn martell fic #thanks for asking #thanks anon!!

5 notes · View notes

the-blind-assassin-12 · 11 months

Text

Aphelion - 11

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, discussion of the past, mentions of violence, blood and death, mention of self-harm, NSFW, vampirism, biting

Word Count: 16,754

Summary: Oberyn has already told you that it's been 400 years since he last used his mark of protection on someone that he cared about, but when you learn why he stopped using it - and how that decision has shaped his life since then - it sheds new light on what it means that he used it on you. And so does what happens after he shares this with you.

The plan for dealing with the Lannisters is in place, and preparations continue throughout the week - until Toban and Tyene surprise you with something unexpected but extremely welcome.

A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN FROM @something-tofightfor & I! We hope that your spooky season is full of fun, treats, and just the right amount of scares. We also hope that you all enjoy this mega-packed chapter! This story continues to be so much fun for us to work on, and we're both really excited about this update and what's still to come. Thank you from the bottoms of our hearts to everyone who has interacted with this story - your comments and reactions make us very happy ghouls.

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 )

It took him more than a few seconds to gather his thoughts, but Oberyn’s hold on you never wavered. You stared out and over the city, the lights glittering in the distance, and you let yourself think again about everything that had happened in the previous hours. No, not just hours … days.

But unlike Oberyn, you didn’t think silently.

“I’m not sure if you know this, but …” Closing your eyes, you took a long breath. “If it wasn’t for Golden Lion and my job, I’d probably be in some shitty little apartment in the Midwest right now.” He hummed in response but didn’t speak, one of his hands moving slowly back and forth over your stomach. “I knew what I wanted to do with my life when I was a teenager, but I never really thought that I’d get hired by a company like theirs right out of college.”

“They did something right, at least.” You snorted at his words, his irritation barely masked by amusement. “Was Golden Lion the first place you’ve worked?”

“It was my first full time adult job, yeah. I did an internship with them my senior year of college and I guess they were impressed, but …” You shrugged. “They had more than 100 candidates apply for three open positions so I figured I’d get a “thanks but no thanks” letter after a few weeks and started applying to museums and historical programs in places like Michigan and Illinois and Ohio. But instead … I got a job offer with a relocation assistance stipend.”

It had been one of the best days of your life, and even though you’d learned that Golden Lion - and the Lannisters especially - weren’t the people you’d thought they were, your time at the company had been worthwhile. It taught me so much and it brought me here.

“They do have a knack for recruiting people with talent.” He sighed, lowering his lips to your shoulder again. “It is an annoying thing that has been true since … well, since the beginning.”

You felt him smiling and you did, too, still staring out into the darkness. “I had a choice between working in New York, London, one of the Westeros office locations, or here.”

“And you chose California.” He kissed the side of your neck, breathing the next words into your ear. “The City of Angels.” You rolled your eyes every time Los Angeles was referred to that way, but when Oberyn said it, it had the opposite effect on you. I am a walking cliche when it comes to him.

“I did. Westeros was tempting, just because of everything it would have allowed me to see, but I decided it was too far away for something that I didn’t know if I’d get to do for long. In London I would have been in a really small office and that wasn’t appealing. New York was …” You wrinkled your nose, even though he couldn’t see it. Never New York. “But California? I figured that even if the job didn’t work out, I’d have the beach. And then I met Nora and her friends and it turned out I really liked what I did for work - and most of my coworkers.” You spun to face him, finding that you were blinking back tears.

You knew it was selfish - that after everything the Lannisters had done to the Martells and to the people Oberyn loved, you had no right to be so upset over something as trivial as your job. But it was important to me. It was a huge part of my life. Everything I worked for.

“And I think that’s what the worst part of this is. Even though there were always ulterior motives to what they had me doing, it was … I liked it. I liked working for Golden Lion. I learned so much. I met so many people and worked on so many great projects, and …” You glanced up, lips pressed together. “And then I met you, and I realized that I knew so damn much, but I really knew nothing, even after all this time.”

“Meeting me was the worst part?” He was teasing you, but when you met his eyes you saw concern in them, Oberyn barely concealing a frown as he watched you. “I don’t think that anyone has ever been so bold as to -” That made you laugh, both of your hands coming up to cover your face and wipe some of the tears away.

“Yes, Oberyn. The worst. I meet an unreasonably hot man that just so happens to be the literal embodiment of every fantasy I’ve ever had in my entire life at a bar. Then two weeks later I’m standing with him on the balcony of a penthouse apartment so fucking nice that I have no business being anywhere near it. Oh, and I’m also wearing a mark of protection from him on my neck that means that he chose me, and -”

Oberyn moved before you’d even registered it, gathering you in his arms and holding you tight against his chest, face turned down so that he could kiss the top of your head. “I do see how that might be terrible.” Inhaling deeply, you let yourself cry for a few seconds, Oberyn’s arms locked in place. “But you need to look at me.”

You did, pulling back enough so that you could meet his gaze. The playfulness was still there, but Oberyn’s mood had shifted again, the man mostly serious. “What?”

“You can’t blame yourself for not knowing the truth. Not many people do. Even those that are like me aren’t … they do not all come from Westeros, or have the same vendettas that we do. And even I have to admit, the things that the Lannisters have done to remain relevant throughout the years … it is impressive. It is even more impressive because like I said, they attract talented people, which means their relevancy lasts.”

“Yeah, but it’s just … a cover. They used people like me to try and find you, Oberyn. You and your family, and -”

“But think about it.” He loosened his grip on you, taking a half step back and urging you to back up and against the low railing. “How much did you learn? How much did you archive? How much will the records you created teach others? Yes, the end goal was for Lannister benefit, but overall, you’ve done more good for Westeros than you know.” He reached up, fingers curling against your neck so that he could press his thumb to the mark he’d put there. It sent a tingle of heat through you, your lips parting and feet shuffling toward him, both hands rising so that you could grip his shirt. “You know now. And if… when this goes according to plan, I’m sure Tyrion will have no problem getting you back to your position, if that’s what you want. This plan will make him mortal, but getting rid of the rest of the Lannisters puts him at the head of the company by name and lineage, and I do not think that he will mind doing a small favor for me.”

You hadn’t even thought of that - of the possibility that after everything was done, you could go back. But I’ll need to work. I don’t have thousands of years worth of finances saved somewhere, and I can’t pay my rent here without a job. “We’ll see. We need to get through the next …. When is the wedding again?”

“The engagement party is next weekend. The wedding follows soon after. They are apparently following the Westerosi custom of the party being used as a lead-in to the main event, but that works in our favor.”

“Yeah, there’s so much going on no one can have eyes everywhere.” You sighed, closing your eyes. “Thank you for talking me down, Oberyn. I’m sorry I -”

“You never need to apologize to me.” He said your name, the man’s thumb and forefinger tilting your chin up so that you could see his wink. “For anything. I understand what you are going through, and I understand how much your life has changed.” Flattening your hands against his belly, you nodded and then took a deep breath.

“If you say so. But I need to stop getting sidetracked. We have a lot to talk about and -” You were interrupted by the rumble of your stomach, Oberyn’s eyes immediately dropping at the sound. Shit. Of course he can hear that, he -

“When was the last time you ate?” He tweaked your chin, his smile widening. “It sounds like it’s been a while.”

“I had some fruit while we talked to Tyrion, but it’s been … hours? Lunch, maybe? I don’t…remember.” You trailed off, frowning. Since the night of the Halloween party, your dining habits had been less than regular. The fact that no one in your company ate at typical times wasn’t helping, either. “I should have something, though. Or else I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

“Stay here.” He nodded twice. “I’ll get you something and then… I’ll tell you about Cameron and Toban.”

He disappeared back into the apartment, the door closing softly behind him. Once he was gone, you turned back to the railing, gripping it with both hands. You’d wasted time complaining about your job, but not too much, and you knew that even though it was late, there were still hours before sunrise. And he’ll want to stay out here as long as possible.

Your head swirled with bits of information - what you knew about the Lannisters and the Martells, what you knew about Oberyn and Ellaria’s bond, the vow that Oberyn had made to himself the moment he’d been turned and learned what happened when someone turned others. And you knew that no matter how much time you had to understand it, it would never be enough. Unless that eternity that Toban mentioned is possible. That might be …

Swiping one hand over your face, you hung your head, opening your eyes so that you could watch the cars on the street far below you. Tyene had offered to change you if you wanted it. Toban’s willingness to step in when necessary had already been tested, but you had a feeling that if he attempted the same thing a second time, even Ellaria’s interference wouldn’t protect him from Oberyn. But I don’t want either of those options. If it’s not Oberyn… it’s no one.

Linking your fingers together, you stared out and over the city, weight resting on your forearms. Four hundred years is a long time, even for him. And it sounds like Cameron was incredibly important to him but he still wouldn’t … he didn’t even use his mark, he … “It’s late, so I figured you didn’t want anything heavy.”

Turning at the sound of his voice, you watched as he held up a plate with one hand, a bottle of water held in his curled fingers and a stainless steel bottle tucked under his other arm. “A sandwich? Did you make this? Or was it -”

“I might have been a prince in a past life, and not need to eat in this one, but I know my way around a kitchen.” He grinned as he set everything down on the small table before unfolding the blanket laying atop the outdoor couch. “Come here.”

You did, stepping in front of him - and when Oberyn draped the material over your shoulders, he used the ends of the blanket to pull you closer, ducking his head down to press a kiss to your lips. That kiss was longer than the last one on the rooftop, but he still broke it much too quickly, stepping back and gesturing for you to sit. “Thank you for … dinner? A midnight snack? Whatever this is, I’m going to inhale it.”

“Good.” He sat next to you, rolling the container he held between both of his hands. “I hope it is alright with you if I … also eat.” Your eyes flicked from the sandwich in your hand to the bottle in his, both brows shooting up in understanding. Blood. There’s blood in there, and he didn’t want me to see it while he drank.

“Of course. Eat.” You took a bite, chewing to give yourself a few extra seconds before speaking again. “Oberyn, you don’t have to worry about that with me. I understand what … you are, and what you need.” Elbowing him, you turned your head to look at the man. “And I’ve already seen you at your worst with Clegane, right? So it -”

“That wasn’t anywhere near my worst.” Flipping the straw up on his bottle, Oberyn sipped from it, staring straight ahead. “But yes, you have briefly seen the worst parts of me.” Your stomach dropped at his words, but part of you wasn’t surprised. He’s been alive for 2,000 years, and he thinks… Oh, Oberyn. “I know that you are expecting to hear about Cameron. But to tell you about Cameron, I need to go back much further.” He sipped again, eyes closing as he swallowed. “To Isabel. To before Isabel. I need to tell you why I stopped offering my protection to the humans I cared for.”

His voice changed as he spoke the woman’s name, and it only took moments for you to figure out who she was. But instead of interrupting, you continued to eat your sandwich, scooting marginally closer to him while you chewed. It took a few seconds, but Oberyn laid an arm over your shoulders, his fingers closing around the far one and squeezing. I’m listening, Oberyn.

“When Ellaria turned me, I knew that I wouldn’t get my revenge right away. I knew that it could take time, but I never thought … I never thought thousands of years would pass.” He paused, head shaking from side to side slowly. “The longer I waited, the more I needed to do to fill my days. By the time I was given the sunlight again, Ellaria and I were far from Westeros. My immediate relatives were long gone, and there was no sign of the right Lannisters. She took me to Greece and within a year I… we met someone.”

You weren’t surprised - Oberyn’s magnetism had been well documented in all of the ancient texts that you’d seen, and you imagined that given the opportunity to meet new people in new places, it hadn’t been any different.

“But it was short lived, because… I wasn’t careful enough. Her association with Ellaria and I put a target on her head, and she was … she was killed because of it. She was killed and we had to leave, and it was only then that Ellaria explained the process of marking someone for safety.”

“Oh, Oberyn.” Wincing, you reached over and squeezed his knee. “I’m so sorry.” He lost someone else, almost right away. I can’t…

“I was too. And from there …” He laughed, but the sound was sad. “From there, I admit that I treated offering my mark in the same way I lived as a man - in excess. Even Ellaria questioned me at times, but it was the way I coped. I could not have the revenge I wanted, and losing more people that I cared about was not an option. So for a few hundred years, I … marked my partners. I kept them close without thinking twice, but I never hesitated to step away from them when it became clear that Cersei and Tywin and the fucking Mountain were back, or when they demanded too much of me.”

“Oberyn, I …” You didn’t know what else to say - especially since up until that conversation, you’d assumed he’d always been selective about who he offered protection to. But I was wrong.

“Many of them asked to become like me, and I denied all of them - most of them without explanation.” He took another drink, pausing before he set the bottle down on the table. “Losing them of natural causes became almost routine for me. Eight. Ten. Twelve. It was not easy to say goodbye, but I was not heartbroken in the same way I was when the first was taken. Finally, Ellaria pulled me aside, and she let me know what she thought.”

“What did she think?” Curling your legs beneath you, you leaned against Oberyn’s side. “It doesn’t seem like she would have said anything unless she felt strongly about it.”

“You are correct.” Glancing up, you saw that he was smiling - that expression a fonder one. “She told me that the mark was meant to be a symbol of honor, and an indication that the person who wore it was special. She said she’d never try to tell me how to live my second life, but that unless I used that ability with some discretion, it was … meaningless. That in our community, the mark had come to symbolize intent, and I was treating it like giving someone a worthless trinket. I hadn’t ever thought of it that way.”

“Were you two together all that time? I know that Makers don’t always stay with their Children, but you and Ellaria are … different.”

“No. She stayed with me for a long time, but once she was certain I would be alright on my own, we separated. We’d see each other … well, to us, it was frequently, but to you, it probably isn’t.” He started moving his hand up and down on your arm, Oberyn shifting so that you could move even closer. “She made a special trip to tell me what she thought about me using my mark, though. And afterward … I slowed down. I slowed down and I realized that there was no point in protecting people in that way. It was only for my benefit. It didn’t offer them anything in the end.”

Unconsciously, you reached up, touching the space on your neck that bore his sigil. Something changed again. Ellaria and Tyene and Toban’s reactions were real. This isn’t just a mark, it’s… more.

“It’s not possible for me to be emotionless; I’m sure you know that. But I … stopped letting myself get so attached. I stopped settling in places long term. I kept moving. I focused on my eventual revenge instead of on immediate pleasure, and instead of one or two people a century wearing my mark and knowing what I was, more and more time passed between each one. I kept my own secret, and didn’t linger long enough for people to start asking questions.”

“You must have been lonely.” Swallowing hard, you closed your eyes. “Even with Ellaria and the Others that you came into contact with, it must have been so hard.”

“It was. But it got easier each year. The difficult part came when the questions about me making a Child started coming, and I had to explain my reasoning for not turning anyone.”

“That’s nobody’s business, though.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s like people questioning why someone like me isn’t trying to have a baby, or hinting that time is running out, or making the assumption that you can’t be happy unless you’re a parent. That’s a personal choice, Oberyn, and even though I’m kind of relieved to know it isn’t just humans who think that’s their business, it’s still awful of them to question you like that.”

“The thing is, that my reason for not turning anyone is … hypothetical. Yes, most of us pass our strongest traits on when we change someone, but it isn’t set in stone that it happens.” He removed his arm from around you and then leaned forward, picking up the thermos again and taking a long pull from it. You caught a whiff of copper, biting your lip at the scent, but before you could say anything, he continued. “Even Ellaria started to hint that there would be nothing wrong with me changing someone and potentially passing something along, but she never pushed. And after those conversations - after seeing her and Toban and meeting others like us and their first Children, I began to see the appeal… and I started using my mark again. Sparingly, but … just in case. Just to let everyone know that someone was off limits.”

“But you never acted.” He flipped the straw down and let the bottle go, leaning back. “Even though you were close.”

“I was.” He sighed. “Sort of.” Without warning, Oberyn pulled you onto his lap, strong arms holding you against his chest though you were still wrapped in the blanket. “I met Isabel while I waited for Ellaria to arrive for a visit, and there was … something about her. A connection between us that was immediate. I fell for her and offered her my protection. She accepted, and asked if … if it was possible that we could be together forever.”

“You considered it.” You looked up at him, watching as Oberyn nodded slowly. “Because if Ellaria thought you were going to choose between Tyene and Isabel, you must have been much closer than before.”

“I was.” He met your gaze then, the line between his brows deep as he frowned. “But I made the mistake of telling her that it was in fact a possibility, and she … assumed.” Oh, no. “And with that assumption, our relationship changed. I loved her. The idea of … forever with her was not unappealing, but …”

“She thought a maybe was a definitely.” He nodded again and then winced when he looked away, like he was remembering actually living the experience. “Did she know about your past? About the Lannisters and your family?”

“She did. And at first, she told me that she understood my need for vengeance, even though she hadn’t ever seen or heard of the Lannisters before me. But as more time passed, I think … it became clear to her just how focused on that goal I was. I spent as much time with her as I could, but I was also with Ellaria and Tyene, making plans. It had been a long time since Cersei and Tywin had shown their faces so we thought it was probably coming. And when I reminded Isabel that there was a chance that I would turn her and our time together would be short because I did what needed to be done and did not survive, she …”

He lifted a hand a rubbed slowly at his jaw, still staring out at the city. You’d thought that Oberyn’s reasons for not turning the woman had been simple, but the previous few minutes had proven otherwise. And I think it’s going to get worse.

“She did not take it well. She said that Ellaria encouraging my revenge quest for over a thousand years was not a good idea. She said that if I kept it up, I would only do more harm to myself and the people I cared about. She said that once I turned her, I would understand that there was more to my life than the need to remove the Lannisters from the world. And that was … the last thing I needed to hear. Especially since Ellaria had been the one encouraging me to make an offer to Isabel in the first place.”

“I’ve said a lot of stupid things in my life, Oberyn, but none of them have been as stupid as telling you Ellaria was a bad influence on you.” He smiled at that but it was still sad, his hold on you tightening. “That wouldn’t have been a good start to Isabel’s new life.”

“No. And as much as I loved her, Ellaria’s presence was … is… always going to factor into my decisions. I will never compromise on that, no matter how many years I walk this Earth, or who I choose to have beside me.” And you shouldn’t have to. Ellaria isn’t just your Maker. She’s … everything to you. “Isabel didn’t take that well, and she definitely didn’t take me telling her that I’d chosen not to turn her because of her feelings about Ellaria well, either.”

He stopped speaking, and you watched the emotions pass across his features, his face more expressive than you’d ever seen it before. He tightened his jaw and then loosened it before finally looking down at you with another frown on his face that sent a shallow ache through your chest. “Are you -”

“Give me a second. This is not easy for me.” He closed his eyes and then turned toward you, kissing you on the forehead and lingering there. “I left her and went back to Ellaria and Tyene full time. I refused to turn Tyene because that girl deserved better than to be someone’s second choice, and Ellaria was far more equipped to handle her transformation than I was.” He spoke without pulling back, his lips brushing over your skin with each word. “But curiosity got the better of me, and after a little while, I went back to check in on Isabel, and she …”

You felt it before you saw it - the warmth of Oberyn’s tears falling against your skin. Without thinking twice, you slipped an arm around his back and the other under his shoulder, turning your head so that you could press your cheek to his chest. Whatever he’s going to say next is going to be awful.

“She cut my mark from her skin.”

You closed your eyes as the ache in your heart deepened. Without realizing it, you tightened your hold on him, fingers digging into his skin. You were expecting it to be bad given the way he was struggling to get through this part of the story. But that’s horrible. I can’t even imagine…

Your thoughts trailed off as he continued. “She said if I wouldn’t choose her, she didn’t want the safety my mark brought her. Since she could not see it, she… What she did to herself, it… her arm was … mutilated. The wound … it … it became infected, and the infection spread. She refused to let me do anything about it.” He paused again, and when he spoke, you heard the tremble in his voice. “She was too weak to get out of bed, but she was strong enough to tell me that all she’d done was make sure that I didn’t have to wait around for years to watch her die of old age since I wouldn’t give her a forever.”

“Oh, Oberyn.” Your blood ran cold at his words, and you knew that he’d heard your sharp intake of breath. “That’s… how could someone do that to you?” You knew that he’d loved the woman, but you thought she’d been selfish - especially when it came to Ellaria. And if she knew what avenging his family meant, she just tried to manipulate him. And that’s even worse.

“I don’t know. But she did die, and despite what she’d done, it … hurt to lose her. Before you, she was the last person I placed under my protection.” He sniffed, saying your name. “For four hundred years, there hasn’t been anyone else I have wanted to protect. Not even Cameron. Not even when I knew his life was in danger. Because the memory of Isabel - and what she believed that mark would eventually mean was so strong.”

He used one hand to ease your head away from his chest, tilting it to the side so that he could stare at the skin of your throat, leaving you to wonder at his thoughts. Do you regret it? Do you wish you’d asked? Do you wish you’d waited?

“Our marks of protection are all slightly different, but they all require …” He smiled briefly, raising his thumb so that the ring caught some of the light. “The right components.” You’d wanted to ask about the process but didn’t know how - especially since you didn’t have a clue where to start, so you were glad that he brought it up on his own. “It can be made from any metal, but most of us that are … ancient choose gold. It is melted down by an elder, and then some of our blood is added to the molten liquid. Even a few drops are powerful, which is why when I bit you, I pressed the sigil to your skin. I healed the space around it with my tongue, but… the metal itself healed that area… and since the metal bears the spear of House Martell… it remains on your skin, a visible reminder of just how important you are to me.”

“I wish it was visible for me, especially after seeing Ellaria, Tyene and Toban’s reactions to it.” The words slipped out - and at the realization of their implication, you sat straight up, eyes wide. Oh, no. I didn’t mean to… Especially after what we just talked about. Now he’s going to think -

“I wish you could see it too. But for right now … you can feel it.” He reached for you again, fingers trailing over your skin and sending heat throughout your body. And when he positioned his hand the same way he had the night he’d marked you, you gasped at the surge of warmth, the corners of his mouth lifting briefly as he gauged your reaction. “I’d almost forgotten what it feels like.” He leaned closer, curling his fingers slightly. “This is a good reminder.” Of what?

There were plenty of ways to interpret his words, but you chose to take them at face value - that he was simply happy to be around someone that understood the significance of what he’d given them - and didn’t try to take things a step further or ask for clarification. Even though I want to, and he has to know it by now. “I’m glad something good came out of this mess.” Letting the blanket drop, you pulled one hand free, raking your fingers through his hair. “Even something small.”

“It is not small, believe me.” He let go of your throat, his hand dropping to your shoulder and squeezing. “But I still have not told you about Cameron, and that’s what I promised to do.”

“We don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow. I can sleep in.” He smiled at that, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “But yes. Tell me about him, please. And maybe something about Toban, too. Because -”

“Toban means well. He always has. And while I wouldn’t call it jealousy, because it’s clear he would do anything for her, the connection that Ellaria has with him has … started to bother me more as the years pass.” He rolled his eyes. “Our gifts are another thing that isn’t guaranteed, but depending on your lineage, they’re more or less likely. With Ellaria, they are very likely, since she’s one of the first.”

You’d assumed that to be the case about her age, but with the confirmation, you realized just how special your circumstances were - and how lucky Oberyn was. Because she barely saved him. And so anyone younger might not have.

“Ellaria can see the past via touch. Toban’s ability is to read situations and circumstances like no one I have ever met before. Tyene … well, she is able to convince anyone to do just about anything, and doesn’t hesitate to tell you what she thinks about it.”

You grinned at the admission, lifting a brow. “I’m not surprised by that, especially after the way she greeted me for the first time.”

He smiled, too, the man nodding. “Her treatment of you is how I knew she accepted you, but I was surprised that she did it as quickly as she did.”

“I like her, Oberyn. I’m glad that Ellaria turned her. She fits well with the two of you…. And Toban.” Dropping your hands to settle them in your lap, you cocked your head to the side. “What is your gift, though? You must have one, if the three of them do.”

“Nothing as exciting as seeing the past or knowing the future or the power of persuasion.” He sighed, the rise and fall of his chest a strange sight. “My… gift is also somewhat of a curse. The depth of my humanity is what I carry with me, no matter how much I’ve tried to ignore it sometimes. Despite my hesitation when it comes to getting attached, when it happens … I cannot help the way it makes me feel… and act, when the situation calls for it.”

“How is that a curse?”

“I haven’t been a human in 2,000 years. At that age, most of us have long since forgotten what it’s like to experience things the same way humans do. But I have never been able to disassociate from that part of myself entirely. I’ve tried to, but it has never worked for long.” He closed his eyes, pausing. “And that brings me to Cameron.”

“I’m going to stay quiet, Oberyn, and just let you talk. Because if I interrupt, I’ll -”

“Thank you. There aren’t many that know this full story, so…” He slipped a hand under the blanket and then under your top, his large palm pressed to your side. “That will help.”

You didn’t know what to expect when it came to the man’s story, but once he started speaking, you were enraptured - and wouldn’t have wanted to interject without his encouragement.

“Ellaria and I have done many things throughout the years to earn a living, finding ways to adapt to the times at hand and use current events to our advantage. Some of the stories about our kind are true, but there are others that aren’t. For example, some of us are quite persuasive, like Tyene, but we can’t just … bend people’s minds to our will without a second thought. Luckily, by the time I was turned, Ellaria had already amassed quite a fortune that she kept secret. Her name may have been Sand then, yet she was anything but poor. Those funds, along with what I was able to take away from my own family’s vaults throughout the years were more than we needed.”

He hummed, glancing down at you and then back out at the skyline, and you used the opportunity to take in his profile, parts of his face silhouetted in shadow, though it only made him more appealing.

“At the time I met Cameron, Ellaria and I were operating a network of Speakeasies on the East Coast. It was good money, easy money. And it was simple for us to attract visitors, because almost everyone was looking for a place to drink and socialize where they could be themselves in every way.”

You didn’t need clarification on that. When it came to Oberyn, excess was the norm, and he’d never been one to hide his true nature, or his desires. Sex and alcohol and freedom? People must have loved them back then. He stroked over your skin with his fingertips, humming low in his throat before he continued.

“Cameron was … special. He visited one of our locations in The Bowery, and caught my eye from across the room. I had two beautiful women in my lap and he still devoured me with his gaze as though they were not there at all. His confidence was… alluring. He wasn’t shy about what he wanted, and I liked that. We began a relationship, and I quickly realized that I cared for him, despite promising myself that I would keep things … loose. I did travel a lot, between locations, and Ellaria often filled in in my absence, so he got to know her, too.”

Oberyn lowered his head and rested it against yours, collecting himself. “Many like us came to America then, to take advantage of the rapidly expanding cities and the nightlife. There was a group - the one Toban told you about? From Braavos? They were also attempting to operate in the same market as we were, and it got … contentious.”

You weren’t surprised because Toban had given you a heads up, but that didn’t make the story any easier to hear. He’s been through so much. He’s had to adapt over and over and it’s still happening.

“I wanted to be sure that Cameron was safe, and since he knew what I was, it was a little easier. We trained together. He stayed close to me when I traveled. I told him what to look for when it came to potential attempts on his life. The sell swords attacked one of our clubs one night, burning it to the ground because they thought we were there … and that is when Cameron and I disappeared for a while. We needed to lay low, and it was during that time that he asked me to protect him with my mark. But I was hesitant, and you know why.”

“I do.” You mumbled the words, agreeing. “And I know how hard it probably still was for you to tell him no.”

“Punishing Cameron for Isabel’s behavior was unfair of me, and I know it. I knew it then, but that changed nothing. He asked me - repeatedly, why I would not protect him if I claimed to love him. All I could say was that I had never before used the mark as a last resort, and I didn’t want to start with him. There were many Others from Braavos, but they were clumsy, and I thought … I thought my presence would be enough. But Cameron got tired of me telling him no, and so he turned to Toban, who was spending a lot of time with Ellaria then, and one thing led to another.”

“Would … would the bond he felt with Toban because of the mark have changed if you’d turned him later? How does that work?”

“I do not know.” He shook his head, the man’s frown deepening. “For many, offering the mark is the precursor to offering them a second life. It is … I don’t think I have ever come across someone that is protected by one and a Child of another. But in Cameron’s case, it wouldn’t have mattered. He grew to resent me in the months following Toban’s decision, and his final request of me was just a last effort to make me choose.”

“Were he and Toban -”

“No, they were never together. Not to my knowledge, anyway. Toban marked him because time was running out, and it was either that or watch me lose someone else I cared for before I was ready, because they would have eventually killed him. It was only a matter of time. He turned him because after the mark, the two of them became close, since Cameron wanted less and less to do with me. After your first, it … I’m told that it becomes less likely that the bond is so strong between a Maker and a Child, so to Toban, it was as simple as granting a request. Cameron told me what was happening, and then the two of them left and were out of touch for twenty years.”

You found it hard to believe that Toban had been out of touch with Ellaria for so long, but stayed quiet, thoughts buzzing in your head. Oberyn’s differing use of his mark of protection through the years was staggering - from overusing it to not using it to choosing to use it sparingly to only offering it when the possibility of forever was on the table, but denying it to someone that was in immediate danger. And then there’s me. How do I factor into this? “You never considered turning Cameron?”

“Not once. I did love him. We were close. He knew me well, and we were happy together, but it wasn’t … I never felt the same as I did with Isabel, and that was a problem for me. He’s happy now, I’ve seen him once since he became one of us, but … the bond between us does not exist anymore. And as upset as I was with Toban at the time, his … interference was for the best. It kept Cameron alive, and it kept me from being forced to make a decision that I would have regretted later.”

You couldn’t help it - stifling a yawn in the middle of his words, one hand rising to cover your mouth and hide it. Shit. “I’m sorry, Oberyn. It’s just that it’s late, and you’re comfortable, and -”

“It is. And I am.” He laughed quietly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “I am almost done, and then I will take you to bed.” Wait, what? “To sleep,” he clarified, lips finding your temple. “I just need to explain my feelings toward Toban, and then … then you will understand more.”

“Before you do that, I have something to ask.” Leaning back, you looked up as he stared down at you, the man nodding twice. “Tyene offered to change me if you wouldn’t. Toban said that he was glad things wouldn’t be the same with me as they were with Cameron, and that he looked forward to getting to know me when this was over … why? They’ve known me for a few days, and they’re already acting like I’m going to be around for a long time, and that they want it to happen.”

“They’re my family. They understand that everything going on right now is … fluid. But the fact that I acted so quickly and definitively with you, despite you being in no danger from any Others … it tells them everything they need to know about my feelings.” It was an answer, but only a partial one - though it would have to be enough. Because there are more important things to worry about.

“What if there are Others working with the Lannisters that Tyrion doesn’t know about? What if that’s a surprise? What if -”

“That is nothing to worry about. It is a rule set by our Elders that we give the Lannisters nothing. They’ve been trying to figure out how our blood works for centuries, and have offered unbelievable sums of money for assistance. But despite the fact that not all of the Others have a vendetta against them like mine or Ellaria’s, no one is willing to help them, because it means they’d be completely cut off if they lived long enough… and survived my retaliation against them.”

Toban’s words - no one would dare cross the Red Viper - echoed in your mind, and despite yourself, you shivered. If he has that much power over the entire community, then … then the fact that I’ve been accepted by him means even more than I thought it did. “I’m glad to hear it. And soon, helping the Lannisters won’t be something any of you have to worry about.”

“No, it won’t be.” He hummed and then squinted, though you knew that his vision was perfect. “The sun will start to rise in about 40 minutes, so I’m going to make this quick.” Quietly encouraging him to continue, you squeezed his bicep. “I have denied myself very little in my first life… or in this life. But I am consciously denying myself the connection that we have with our first. Over and over, I have had the opportunity to choose someone to fill that role, and I have walked away every time. Toban was Ellaria’s first, and the bond they have … as much as I want to experience that, it hasn’t ever felt right. She turned him with nothing but love for him in her heart, and I … I’ve already told you what I feel. The hate. The rage. The sadness. They are not all I feel, but they are always there, like a shadow. Making someone an offer of eternal life shouldn’t come with the burden of those things.”

No, it shouldn’t. “Only you can decide what the right time is, or who the right person is, Oberyn. And you told me the other night that once this is over? You might be able to make that offer to someone. I want that for you. And whoever it is is going to be the luckiest person in the world, because you -”

“No.” Using one hand, he turned your face toward his, the corners of his mouth lifting in a tiny smile. “I will be the luckiest man on this planet if they say yes.” Oberyn kissed you softly, his lips parted so that your lower one fit between them.

He didn’t say you, don’t get your hopes up. But it was impossible not to - all of Oberyn’s words and explanations aligned with his actions and your presence in his life, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that he was referring to you when he mentioned an after for someone.

“I do not hate Toban. I could never truly despise someone that holds such a large portion of Ellaria’s heart. But he has something I haven’t been able to seriously consider for myself, and seeing him … and them together is a reminder of that.”

You kissed him when he was done speaking, puckered lips trailing over his and then to his cheek, pausing over the space where his dimple appeared each time he smiled and then moving back to his mouth. You lingered there, wanting to deepen it, but Oberyn decided for you, shaking his head and leaning back. “We need to go inside. If I get carried away with you out here, the sun will not be pleasant.”

“Of course.” Pushing yourself to your feet, you kept the blanket wrapped around you, staring down at where he still sat. “Plus, unless I missed something in the last few hours, you and Ellaria haven’t had enough time to take care of what you need to, so… getting carried away isn’t an option.”

“We have not.” He stood, too, reaching out to put an arm around your shoulders. “But there are other things that you and I could do that would make me lose track of time.”

“Yeah?” Feeling bold, you slid your arm around his back, hand landing on his hip and your fingertips slipping beneath the waistband of the pants he wore. “Are any of those possible in that bedroom with the drapes shut?”

“If you’re not too tired, we can find out.”

You were exhausted, but his words sent a jolt of adrenaline through you, your eyes moving to the partially open door. I’ll never be too tired to find out with you, Oberyn. What you’d discussed had likely taken a lot out of him, but you never would have known based on the way he led you back into the bedroom and then fluidly worked to secure the door and drapes - ensuring that not even a sliver of sunlight would leak through when it rose.

You went into the bathroom while he did that, taking a few moments when you’d finished to stare at yourself in the mirror. You could feel the mark he’d given you - a dull thrum against the side of your throat, and even though you knew it wouldn’t do any good, you leaned in and squinted at your reflection. I know what it’s supposed to look like, but I really wish I could see it just once.

And you didn’t even mean as a result of being turned - though if that were the case, you’d be able to see it any time you looked into the mirror. I just mean … Swirling your fingertips slowly over your skin, you sighed. I want to see what he sees.

A knock at the door startled you. When it pushed open a few seconds later, Oberyn peaking around the edge, you straightened up and smiled. “You can come in. I guess.”

He stepped inside, leaving the door open behind him. Oh, he took his shirt off. “The room is ready. We will be able to rest for as long as we need to.”

“What do you do while I… while the person you’re in bed with is sleeping?” You watched his expression in the mirror, both of Oberyn’s eyebrows shooting upward. “You don’t really sleep, so -”

“I do need rest. When it’s a human I’m with, my body just sort of goes into a … meditative state. I’m still alert and aware in case of danger, but if someone were to see me, they’d think I was asleep.” He stepped behind you, extending his arms so that he could grip the edges of the counter on either side of your body. “You have seen me actually sleep, though. After the Mountain? My body was doing everything possible to heal, and that meant being truly unconscious.”

Oberyn pressed his chest to your back, never breaking eye contact with your reflection. “So it’s like a recharge. Even though you technically don’t need it, you still… keep up appearances.”

“I do.” He nodded, turning his head to press his lips to the angle of your jaw. “When I have a reason to.” I’m the reason right now? “I also must admit to something.” He kissed you again, mouth moving closer to your ear. “In the last few days, I have spent more than a few hours just watching you sleep.”

“Creep.” But you felt your entire body growing warm at his words, a sharp inhale of breath your only response when he let go of the counter and wound his arms around you to pull you even closer. “Oberyn.”

“I have been trying to figure out what it is about you that has drawn me in so quickly.” He hummed, the man pushing your shirt up and gliding his fingers over your skin. “Why I was so … moved to do whatever it took to protect you, even when I was … impaired and hadn’t had the urge to give that gift to anyone in hundreds of years.”

“Does the why matter?” Sighing as he stroked the skin beneath your belly button, you tipped your head back, resting it against his shoulder. “It doesn’t to me, because whatever the reason, it means … you’re in my life now, and I’m in yours. Whatever that means going forward is something that we’ll have to figure out, but …” Closing your eyes you took a deep breath, pressing your lips together. “Do you regret what you did? Do you wish you hadn’t been -”

“No.” It was almost a growl, Oberyn’s palm flattening against your belly, the other one moving up your body and sliding beneath the neckline of your shirt so that he could settle it over your heart. “I regret the timing, yes, and not being able to explain what I wanted to do beforehand… but when it comes to choosing you?” He nuzzled against the side of your face, his upper lip curling. “There is no regret.”

It made you feel better.

When you turned your head toward him, he was waiting, the man’s lips already parted so that he could pull yours between them, the scrape of his teeth making you groan. Reaching up, you used one hand to grip his hair, fingers twisting in the silver-streaked locks. He pressed harder on your chest, and once again, you knew he was monitoring your heartbeat. But this time, it’s not because he’s afraid it’s too slow.

He kissed you harder, his mouth moving with yours - and the hand on your abdomen moved lower, the tips of his fingers skimming the waistband of your sweats. You whimpered then, Oberyn swallowing the sound - but it only seemed to encourage him. Wait, though. Wait because …

Pulling away from him with a gasp, you let out a shuddering breath, and were unsurprised to see mischief in his eyes, one of his brows raised. “Can, um…” Fighting to catch your breath, you chewed on your lower lip and wrinkled your nose. This is stupid. “Can they hear us? I know this is a big apartment, but …”

To his credit, Oberyn didn’t outright laugh at you. Instead he just murmured your name and leaned in to kiss you, his fingers curling slightly. “Our hearing is very good, yes. But with age and experience, we are able to … tune things out. It becomes like background noise for us unless we’re actively listening. I cannot say that they won’t all know that something is going on in here because of your heartbeat or any noises we make, but I can assure you that Ellaria and Toban are quite occupied themselves, and Tyene is more like a teenager than you know.”

“Doesn’t want to hear either of her parents having sex? Got it.” You grinned at that, feeling marginally more at ease. “I just didn’t want to be rude, Oberyn. I know you’ll tell me that I’m worrying for nothing, but …”

“I certainly haven’t been listening to them, I can promise you that.” The look in his eyes changed briefly, but then he was focused on you again, the intensity back. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I understand.” You considered his words for a few seconds, breaking eye contact and then closing both of yours.

Everything you knew about Oberyn Martell - from Westerosi history books and actually meeting him in person - told you that while he had very few limitations when it came to his behavior, he was considerate of others when the situation called for it.

He wouldn’t force you to do anything, and his honesty about the fact that three supernatural beings also in the apartment could probably hear everything happening was proof that you had a choice about whether or not to move forward. But they all already know how he is. They know how he feels, and how I feel, and …

“I want this, Oberyn.” His hold on you tightened, and when you lifted your head again to lock eyes with him in the mirror, you nodded twice. “But, the first time we’re actually together? I’d prefer if it was just the two of us, you know?”

“Of course.” The hand at your chest dropped a few inches, Oberyn’s wrist caught on the neckline of your shirt as he palmed one breast. “No one to listen. No one to interrupt. No one to …” He pressed his lips to your cheek and then moved them down, kissing the space just beneath your ear and then against the column of your throat. “No one to make either of us leave that bed before we’re ready.”

You moaned at that - the sound loud, and when he latched his lips against your skin and sucked, you did it again, not caring at all who was listening. He wasn’t biting you, but part of you wished that he would - and you didn’t know what exactly that said about you. “I can’t wait.” The thought of you and Oberyn - uninterrupted and in a bed together, the man finally able to give you what you both desperately wanted - was enough to make your knees shake.

But he kept you upright, releasing your skin and then smiling against it as he continued to kiss his way forward. “On that night,” he whispered, lips moving over the part of your collarbone that was exposed, “on that night, I am going to kiss every single part of you that I marred when I was not well.”

“Oberyn, you don’t have to -”

“It is not for you.” He shook his head, the hand at your waist sliding marginally lower while the one on your chest moved in a slow circle, one fingertip circling your nipple. “It is for me. And it is the only way I can begin to forgive myself.” You knew that telling him that you’d already forgiven him was unnecessary - he’d made the decision to make up for what he’d done, and you couldn’t sway him. “But for now…” He took a step forward, the small movement aligning your thighs with the edge of the counter. “This is for you.”

He removed his hand from beneath your shirt and then used both of his to pull it upward, the man silent as he moved. Raising your arms to allow him to fully remove it, you let out a shuddering breath at the sight of your bare torso in the mirror, watching as he wrapped his arms around you again. He’s just watching me. Watching … us.

The heat of his body was soft against your skin, the man’s palms warmer where they pressed to it - but you were focused on the intensity of his gaze, his eyes following the movement of his fingers as he touched you. “Oberyn, what are …” You gasped when his right hand slid down your stomach, fingers gliding beneath your waistband again - but instead of continuing down, he held it there, humming appreciatively. “You seem pleased with yourself, Prince Oberyn.”

That got a laugh out of him, the smile spreading across his face as he palmed your chest with his other hand. But when Oberyn said your name next, there was no trace of laughter in his voice. Instead, it was low and full of want, his eyes blazing in the mirror’s reflection. “You’ll be pleased in a few minutes, too. That is a promise.”

You managed little more than a quiet sigh in response, but you nodded, never taking your eyes off of him. He was pressed against you from behind, the man’s body firm, and when he used one foot to nudge yours apart, you moved. Not much - just enough to widen your stance for him. Please touch me, Oberyn. Please, just …

Reaching up with one hand, you dragged your fingers through the hair laying against the nape of his neck as you finally turned your head toward him, your upper body twisting slightly. It was enough to allow you to kiss him, your mouth pressed to his as your fingers curled.

Despite his age and his circumstances - and the fact that your friends had the element of surprise, you knew that nothing was promised beyond the moments you were living in. Especially for me, you thought as you continued to kiss him, lips parting in a signal to him that you wanted more. Because out of everyone, I’m the only one without a contingency plan or immortal blood.

He must have noticed a change in your heartbeat, because Oberyn pulled away moments later, his frown deep. “What is wrong? Do you want me to stop?”

“No. I don’t.” Closing your eyes, you bit down on your lower lip. “I’m just … so much could go wrong, Oberyn. And I’m scared that I’ll lose you before …” You pulled your hand from his head, using it to cover your mouth. Just say it. “I’m scared that I’ll lose you before I can really get to know you. Or that something will happen to me, and then…” And then you’ll lose someone else you care about earlier than planned.

“You will not lose me.” He leaned in, running his nose along your temple. “Not during this conflict, and definitely not tonight.” He kissed you then, lips landing on the corner of one eye. “And nothing is going to happen to you… nothing that you don’t like, anyway.” You felt his smile, the man pausing before he spoke again - that time, directly into your ear. “Let me take care of you, issa ōños.”

You knew it was Valyrian, but you didn’t know what he’d said - and didn’t want to stop him and ask, especially when his hand moved even lower, the edges of his nails dragging against your sensitive skin and making your hips jerk backward into his. He was hard and made no effort to conceal that from you, Oberyn bending one knee and sliding that foot between both of your legs so that you could feel the length of him against the back of your hip.

It also stabilized you, your lips curving into a tiny smile at the realization. But that was cut off when he kissed you again, Oberyn’s lips crushing yours with what you could only describe as a slight desperation. You have nothing to prove to me, Oberyn. Nothing at all.

The hand on your chest moved upward, palm pausing over your heart for long moments as the kiss continued, desperation turning into something like need as he felt the steady - though elevated - beat of it. He nodded once without breaking the kiss, and when you circled your hips slowly, leaning the weight of your upper body into his, Oberyn was ready.

He licked into your mouth, the drag of his tongue long and slow. It took you a few seconds to realize that he’d dropped his hand again, slipping his fingers between your legs and curving them - the breadth of them pressed against the apex of your thighs. His touch was welcome, and when he stroked you with one long finger, you moaned into his mouth, your hand rising again to let your fingers tangle in his hair.

He continued with only one finger, though he sped up after a minute or so, the man not doing anything but touching you until he broke the kiss to let you breathe. You gasped a breath into your lungs, eyes squeezed shut, and when Oberyn’s hand moved upward from your chest and to your throat, you let it out shakily at what you knew was coming.

He made contact with the mark on your neck at the same time one finger slipped into you, Oberyn humming as you breathed out his name, the sound so quiet that only someone with his hearing would have known. Your muscles clenched around his finger, your body accommodating him immediately - though you wanted more, and knew that he’d want you to say so.

You opened your mouth to tell him, turning your head just enough so that you could steal a quick kiss, but when your lips met, you felt the sharp sting of his teeth - the man nicking your lip and then snapping his head back before you could even react. His fangs are out. Is that new or has it been that way every time we’ve been close like this? “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to -”

“Don’t apologize for what you are, Oberyn.” You dragged your tongue slowly over the area he’d bitten, your tongue coming away coated in the tang of copper. You met his eyes again - directly that time, and not in the mirror - and shook your head without looking away. “I can handle it, and I want to.” It was the truth - you needed him to know that no part of him or who he was or what he wanted frightened you or made you uncomfortable in any way, and that you trusted him to toe the line of safety with you in every situation. “Can…” Swallowing, you nodded. “Can I see?”

He hesitated but it was brief. Oberyn’s hand dropped from your neck back to your upper chest, the motion of his other hand paused, too. “Yes. You can.” He opened his mouth again, tipping his head back and baring his teeth - and you watched as his fangs descended, the sharp points coming into view with no change in his expression. Oberyn stayed still, the man’s eyes on your face as you stared at what he was showing you.

They were beautiful - much like the rest of him was - and without thinking about it, you raised your hand slowly, fingertips caressing his cheek as your thumb hovered just in front of his open mouth. “Does it hurt?” You spoke quietly, wondering what he felt in the rhythm of your heartbeat. “When they come down?”

“No.” He prodded at one with the tip of his tongue, your eyes following the movement. “It never has.” You wanted to touch one of them - to press the pad of your thumb against the point, testing the sharpness, but had no idea if that would be crossing the line of acceptability. “People used to fear them, even after I told them what I was. I became … adept at keeping them hidden. At not letting my natural reaction to … others allow them to be visible.”

“So they come out when you’re turned on?” Arching a brow, you grinned at him again. “Good to know.” The edge of your nail caught on his lower lip, and then Oberyn snapped his teeth at you, playfully nipping at it before turning his head to kiss the inside of your wrist with a lingering press of his lips. “Oberyn.” You got his attention with a single word, his gaze rising to lock with yours again. “You have my permission to … bite me if that’s what you want.”

It sounded stupid coming from you - the words leaving your lips and echoing in the small space. But he probably needs to hear it, because he was so afraid I’d be mad or off-put and … I’m not. “Is it what you want?”

He pulled you closer to his body, Oberyn’s fingers curling against your core, and you nodded in return. “Yes. I want you, and that urge is a part of who you are, so… it is.” His eyes flashed at your admission, the man’s pupils widening - and then he was kissing you again, none of the previous restraint present.

Instead, he took the lead, his mouth pressed to yours with some force as the hand between your legs began to move again. But that time, Oberyn went with two fingers, much as he had done in the safehouse. It felt better - your body’s immediate reaction to cant your hips forward over and over into his touch, chasing the pressure of the heel of his hand on each backstroke.

He bit your lip again before he moved his mouth to your jaw, the points of his teeth scraping over it and then dragging along your cheek, the man’s plush lips trailing a second path over your heated skin.

Closing your eyes and breathing hard, you angled your head away and gave him a better route to your neck, knowing full well that he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the mark - but still wanting his mouth on it, wanting to feel the heat of his lips as the effect of the claim he’d made on you coursed through your body. Not a claim, you reminded yourself as he bit on your earlobe before releasing it. A promise. A reminder that he wants to keep me safe.

And Oberyn did press his lips to your mark moments later, along with a twist of his wrist that left his fingers buried in you but also allowed him to circle his thumb over the spot just above them, your hips jerking back once more. His kiss burned, the connection between you electric in its intensity, and you forced your eyes open, watching what was going on in the mirror.

It was a sight you’d never forget - one of his hands pressed so tightly to your chest that your flesh dimpled beneath it, the other hidden beneath the sweats you still wore, the motion of the fabric over the movement of his fingers and the flex of the muscles in his wrist and forearm something that you could have watched for hours.

But it was his head that you focused on, the crown of dark curls streaked with silver repositioned after only a few seconds and giving you a view of his brow and nose as he moved away from your throat and back to the place where your neck met your shoulder.

You didn’t even notice your own bare skin - chest on full display in the warm light of the vanity fixture - because you were so focused on him and what he was doing. But nothing could have prepared you for Oberyn raising his eyes and turning his head so that he could rest his chin on your shoulder.

He curled his fingers inside of you at the same moment he smirked, and then he opened his mouth, letting you watch as his fangs descended once more. He’s going to … Oh, he’s…

You knew it was coming and yet you were still unprepared for the way it felt the moment he sunk his teeth into your skin, the man’s low moan at the taste of you sending a shiver of pleasure throughout your entire body. Your first instinct was to close your eyes but you forced yourself to keep them open, watching as your mouth dropped open, lips forming his name though you didn’t speak it out loud.

He didn’t actually drink from you the same way he had the first night. Instead, Oberyn sipped slowly, timing the swallows with the strokes of his fingers, your body following his lead. You lifted one hand and laid it over the one he had on your chest, using the other one to grip the edge of the counter even though it was unnecessary.

You wanted to watch - wanted to see the exact moment you fell apart from his touch and his mouth, but instead of doing that, you closed your eyes and let yourself relax into him, the man supporting your weight, even as your hips continued to move in tandem with his hand.

There was pressure building in your lower belly - the result of his touch and his bite, and if you could sense it, you knew that he likely could, too. But I haven’t touched him. I haven’t … he hasn’t… You groaned, forcing your eyes open and saying his name, the man looking up without pulling his mouth away from your skin. His eyes were dark - the pupils so wide that you couldn’t tell where they ended, and there was a tiny trickle of blood at one corner of his mouth that made you gasp when you saw it. That’s my … oh, shit.

But it didn’t deter you, and when you spoke moments later, your voice was low, though you heard the certainty in your tone. “Touch yourself, Oberyn. I know you want to.”

His eyes rolled back and then he shut them, pulling the hand on your chest out from beneath yours as he sucked on your shoulder, and then you felt that hand slide down your body before it joined the other one between your legs. What the fuck is he…

Before you could even finish your thought, Oberyn deftly replaced his first hand with the second, never missing a beat in the rhythm of his touch. Oh, he’s … oh, shit. Humming, you watched as he removed the first hand - his fingers glistening with your slick - and drew it back between your bodies, pushing the pants he wore down so that he could do what you’d told him to.

He grunted against your skin and then you felt him move - stroking himself slowly, the man’s knuckles brushing against your back and hip. He sped up the motion of his other hand, and you glanced down, catching a glimpse of what was going on behind you - his large hand wrapped around his length, lower body pulled away from yours enough to give him the space he needed to glide easily.

You had no idea what a vampire’s release would be like - or if it would be anything at all - but before you could dwell on the thought, Oberyn’s thumb found a sweet spot again, the man pressing down against your skin before circling slowly, another prolonged suck on your shoulder making you gasp.

It was almost too much - definitely more than you’d experienced with him the first time he’d touched you, but at the same time, it was nowhere close to being enough. Will it ever be? You wondered as you forced your eyes to stay open, gaze focused on the flex of the tendons in his wrist and the way the length of him looked - tip flushed, the rest of him and his hand coated in you.

Without warning, Oberyn released your shoulder and lifted his head, and you let out a moan at what he left behind - a double set of puncture wounds on your skin, thin trails of blood oozing from them and more of the same coating his lower lip. He looked almost drunk, his eyelids heavy, and for a few seconds, you thought he was going to stay like that… but you were wrong.

“Give me your hand.” Voice low, he made the demand, Oberyn’s tongue cleaning the blood from his mouth. “Over mine.” Ducking his head, you felt as he kissed the place he bit once more, followed by the drag of his tongue, which felt almost as good as the bite itself. But you moved your hand at the same time, making a guess that he wasn’t asking for help touching you and reaching back so that you could wrap your fingers over his mid-stroke.

He grunted at your touch, and before you could question him further, it was your hand resting against his skin, Oberyn’s larger one securely atop yours and guiding you. He was warm against your palm, the heft of him large but not uncomfortable, and as you took over, Oberyn’s focus shifted back to the hand he had between your legs, the speed of those thrusts increasing, as did the pace of his thumb.

It felt amazing - better than anything that had ever been done to your body before, and Oberyn knew it, the man’s smile turning lazy as he focused on the mirror. “Normally I would prolong this,” he murmured, mouth moving along your skin. “To see how long you could remain right on the edge.” No, please. Not tonight. I just want … “But that is not what either of us needs tonight.” He sighed, mouthing at the base of your throat and then parting his lips to bite again - that time without his fangs. “Tonight you just need me.”

It was the truth - and it didn’t matter how or why he knew it, and so you nodded, swallowing and tipping your head back as you paused your hand long enough to swirl your thumb over his head, the man twitching at the touch. Squeezing once in agreement, you then resumed your movement - and Oberyn changed his, holding his fingers still inside you while the third kept moving - the pace increasing.

“Oberyn!” You cried out, your voice much louder than you’d anticipated, but it only encouraged him, the muscles in your abdomen tightening as your toes curled, Oberyn’s hand squeezing yours once more before releasing it. He moved that hand up to your chest again, the weight of his touch grounding you and holding you tight against his body. Even though your eyes snapped closed, you knew why he was touching you there - knew what he was searching for. And I hope he likes it, you thought even as your lips fell open in a series of pants, breath shaky. My fucking heart is racing, and …

“There it is,” he whispered, followed by a quiet hum of approval. “There you go.”

You fell apart moments later, your body nearly convulsing at his touch - your free hand slapping against the countertop as the one you had on him stuttered in its motion, grip tightening. Your muscles clenched around his fingers, and Oberyn kept them still, the man swearing in another language - one that you didn’t recognize before turning to kiss the underside of your jaw, the press of his lips against the pulse in your neck welcome.

He eased you through it, his touch lengthening your orgasm, but once the haze of pleasure had begun to subside, you took a deep, shaky breath and used the hand on the counter to touch his wrist, stopping the motion. Stop. Stop, Oberyn. “Let me turn around, Oberyn.”

He slipped his fingers from inside of you, but didn’t pull his hand free from beneath your sweats. You let him go long enough to turn and face him, knees wobbly and your chest heaving, but when you met his eyes, you saw understanding in them. “Are you -”

“Be quiet.” Wetting your lips, you shook your head. “Be quiet and let me take care of you now.” His eyes flashed but he didn’t speak, and when you touched him again, your grip was certain - your confidence growing with each passing second.

He crowded you against the counter again, and without thinking, you maneuvered yourself so that you were sitting on the edge of it, legs spread so that Oberyn could step between them. It gave you better access, and when you reached up with your free hand, gripping the hair at the back of his neck and urging him to kiss you, Oberyn didn’t hesitate.

It was a deep kiss, Oberyn’s tongue seeking entrance to your mouth immediately, and as he kissed you, his hips began to rock forward, the tiny thrusts forcing more of him through your grip. He held you with both hands - one of them pressed to the center of your back, the other one gripping the back of your neck and holding you in place, but despite the power behind it, his grip was gentle.

You felt his fangs again when he bit on your lower lip but he didn’t pierce the skin, and when you gasped, the sound turning into a moan moments later, Oberyn groaned too, his hips moving faster. He broke the kiss, humming out your name. “I am close. I… where do y-”

“Anywhere.” Pressing a kiss to his lips, you shook your head. “Anywhere, Oberyn.” He grunted at your words but didn’t speak again, and when Oberyn kissed you hard, mouth sealed over yours, you knew that close meant imminent.

Your heart racing again, you swirled your thumb over his tip and squeezed, the speed of your hand increasing as Oberyn’s lips parted, though he didn’t pull back from you. Forcing your eyes open, you tilted your head down to stare between your bodies, twisting your wrist so that when he came, it would hit your belly - and that change was all he needed, the man pulsing in your hand as he followed you over the edge.

It coated your skin, pearly streaks hitting your stomach, the volume increasing with each stroke of your hand until he was nearly shuddering in your grip, Oberyn’s muscles twitching though he didn’t seem to have any trouble staying on his feet. “Fuck.” He swore, the sound beautiful to your ears. “You just … you are …”

“Hold that thought, Prince Oberyn.” With one more stroke - and a final squeeze - you released him, fingertips trailing up his stomach until you could press your hand over his heart. It was strange to feel nothing beneath your palm, but it wasn’t difficult to imagine what it would have felt like - his chest rising and falling rapidly while he struggled to catch his breath, his lips parted as he sucked air between them. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s alive in all the ways that count. Your hand moved higher, fingers curling around the side of his throat and your thumb sliding over his jawline. “Ok, now you can finish.”

“I just did.” He raised an eyebrow. “All over your -” You laughed, eyes closing and your chin dropping, but when Oberyn said your name, you looked back up at him. “I know you heard me earlier, heard what I called you?” Oh, he’s … Nodding, you took a deep breath and held it. “Issa ōños, it means … it means my light. And that is what you are to me, because you’ve shown me something I haven’t seen in a very long time.”

Your heart was racing, his explanation of the words much more intimate than you’d ever expected them to be. “I have?” He nodded, both of his hands slipping down toward your waist.

“The way forward. Hope. What it means to … care for someone again. I am beginning to see an end to the darkness I have lived with for so long.” You didn’t know what to say, and any of the things that crossed your mind seemed like too little - so you just leaned forward and kissed him gently, stroking the back of his head. When the kiss ended, neither of you said anything - but you didn’t separate, either, locked in place and holding each other, his forehead pressed to yours. We can’t stay here, though.

“We should get cleaned up, Oberyn. I need to lay down.” Sighing, you straightened up and looked into his eyes. “And I need to … figure out how to respond to what you just said, because -”

“No. You don’t. Not yet.” He smiled, the expression understanding. “I just wanted you to know.” The man backed off, though he was reluctant to let you go. “It is important that you know.”

He stepped away, giving you the room you needed to climb off of the counter and begin to clean up, doing the same thing beside you before pulling his pants back on. Everything he says is important. But that seems … very important. And I just … I don’t know what to think.

Luckily for you, there was plenty of time, since you had days before the engagement party and wedding, and you weren’t involved in every aspect of the attack plan. But it can wait until I wake up. You yawned, swaying on your feet as you dried your face off with a fluffy towel, but then you felt Oberyn’s arms around you again, his mouth right next to your ear. “It’s time for bed. You can barely stand.”

You didn’t argue, and only a few seconds later, you were horizontal on the comfortable mattress, the thick blanket covering you while Oberyn pressed against you from behind.

You were drowsy, and knew that it wouldn’t take long to fall asleep, but you forced yourself to speak one final time, clearing your throat without opening your eyes. “I know you won’t sleep, but I hope you get some rest.” He chuckled, his mouth pressed to the back of your shoulder. “I’ll see you when I wake up. I lo-”

You stopped yourself just in time, breath catching in your throat. Oh, no. Oh, I just almost… His arm tightened around you, Oberyn pulling you as close as he could. “I will be here.” I almost just fucked everything up. I almost ruined everything.

You were exhausted, but the racing of your heart at the near admission kept you awake for a long time. And if Oberyn noticed - which you knew that he did - he didn’t comment on it, his body still behind yours.

“You’re serious?” You looked back and forth between them, eyes wide. “Tyene? Toban? You’re telling me that -”

“Yes. We’ve all been cooped up in here for a week, and you haven’t been anywhere for almost two aside from coming here.” The girl grinned, holding out a hand. “We’re going out tonight.”

“But shouldn’t we -” You bit your lip, shaking your head. “Shouldn’t you two be worried about preparing for the wedding instead of worrying about babysitting a human? The engagement party is tomorrow, and…” Trailing off, you looked at Toban’s face, watching as he studied you. “That’s why we’re leaving.”

Closing your eyes, you nodded. It’s because the party is tomorrow. “After tomorrow, we lose the element of surprise.” Tyene stepped forward, glancing at Toban. “Or at least Oberyn and Ellaria do. So between then and the wedding, things will be … harder for us. Unless we go tonight, we won’t be able to until it’s all over because they might be looking.”

“And at that point, none of us will be hiding anymore.” Toban cleared his throat, saying your name. “So tonight, the three of us are going to leave the apartment, you are going to check in with someone that you know as proof of life, and Tyene and I are going to fuel up for what is coming.”

That was code for find someone to drink from, though he was tactful about admitting it. “That’s not the only reason we’re leaving.” You smiled at her, nodding, even though you felt a pang in your chest. “But alright. Let me get changed. I don’t think I want my first time out and around people in such a long time to be in sweatpants.” She grinned, turning and leaving the room, though Toban remained, the man eyeing you curiously. “What? What did -”

“He expects you to be upset.” Frowning, Toban shook his head. “But you aren’t… at least in the way it would make sense for you to be.”

“Oberyn told me about your gift.” You stood, taking a deep breath. “And you’re right, I do feel … something right now, but … two thousand years of history between them? I’ve known him for fifteen seconds in comparison. And if this is what needs to happen so that he can focus on what’s coming, there’s no way I can be mad about it.” You chewed on your lip and then shook your head. “This isn’t a shock to me, Toban. I knew it was going to happen.If anything, I’m surprised it took this long.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead closed his eyes, nodding. He doesn’t know what to say. “How long do you need to get ready?” Toban cleared his throat. “An hour?”

“No, not even close.” Glancing around the room, you shrugged. “Twenty minutes? A half hour?” He agreed and then followed Tyene out of the room, leaving you alone. There were plenty of clothes for you to choose from, and after checking the weather on one of the TV channels, you opted for a pair of jeans and a light colored tee, pulling a cardigan over it.

From there, you moved to the vanity, sliding onto the bench seat and reaching for the small bag of toiletries that included makeup, trying to decide whether or not you wanted to put in the effort. Not like I’m trying to impress anyone.

“I have warned them that if anything happens to you, they will answer to me.”

Turning your head toward the voice, you rolled your eyes when you saw Oberyn leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed. “You wouldn’t have agreed to let me leave this apartment if you thought something might happen.” He pushed off of the wall and moved toward where you sat, the man settling both hands on your shoulders. “It’ll be good to get outside, Oberyn, to be around other people again.”

“Are we not enough?” You thought about lying and then opted not to, setting the compact you held back down as you turned your head again to look up at him.

“It’s not that you aren’t enough. I just … I went from interacting with dozens of people every day and using all kinds of technology whenever I wanted to the confines of an apartment, no phone, and the same four faces for the last two weeks.” Aside from Clegane and Tyrion, that is. “It was a big change.”

“You’ll be back in that world full time soon enough.” He cleared his throat. “I’m … sorry that this is what your life has become. You should not have to hide here, with us. This is not your fight.”

“It is, though.” Eyeing yourself in the mirror, you shrugged. “It became my fight the second you kissed me at that party, Oberyn. And I’ll do whatever I can to help you win it.” Even if that means going out to a bar so that you can fuck the lingering effects of Ellaria’s blood from your system. “Besides, spending time with Toban and Tyene will be … interesting. I’m sure they’ll have a ton of stories to tell me, and with you and Ellaria out of earshot, they won’t have to worry about censoring themselves.”

He laughed at that but didn’t speak, his eyes on you as you applied mascara. You could see his reflection in the mirror, the man’s brow furrowed, and you wondered what it would actually take for him to speak up. I’ve never seen him like this. He twisted the ring on his thumb with two fingers, still silent when you picked up another brush - but Oberyn finally broke the silence a few seconds later, his tone full of confusion.

“You are calm. Your heartbeat is … steady.” He frowned, glancing up at the ceiling. “Yet you know what is going to happen when -”

“Oberyn.” Capping your eyeliner, you spun on the bench to face him, hands in your lap. “Yes. I know that when the three of us are gone, you and Ellaria are going to fuck.” You knew it was more than that, but being blunt was the route you chose. “You need to be clearheaded for tomorrow, and even though having the extra stamina from her blood would probably be helpful if something happens, the focus is more important.”

“Among other things.” He mumbled the words and then held a hand out, waiting for you to take it. “I wish it did not have to be this way.”

“Why?” He pulled you to your feet, his free hand going to your waist. “You love her, Oberyn. You haven’t seen her in a while, and this is probably the longest the two of you have ever gone in each other’s presence without jumping into bed.” Settling your hand on his chest, you said his name again. “I will never be jealous of what the two of you have. She saved your life twice that I know about, and probably countless more times between, too.” He smiled at that - just a twitch of his lips but it was there, and so you continued. “Plus, if that night in the bathroom was any indication, my pelvis and ribs wouldn’t stand a chance with you until you get that out of your system.” Arching a brow, you stared at him for a few seconds, giving your words time to land.

You hadn’t discussed what had happened between you - or what you’d almost said - after waking up, and the following few days had been filled with planning sessions, meaning that Oberyn’s attention was divided. You’d thought about it, of course, and figured that he had, too … but you knew that he had far more important things to worry about.

But those things didn’t keep him from you in the time before you went to bed each day, Oberyn taking breaks to lay with you until you’d fallen asleep, his hand stroking over the parts of your body that he could reach and the two of you trading deep, slow kisses until your eyes closed and he had the opportunity to extricate himself, heading back into the other room with Ellaria, Toban and Tyene.

You only knew this was the case because you’d woken up to an empty bed one night, the fear that he was gone filling you for long moments and only abating when you heard his voice from the other room, Toban’s joining in moments later. He’d always been in bed again when you woke up, though, the comforting weight of him beside you and his face the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes.

Tyrion hadn’t come back, but packages from him had arrived throughout the week - blueprints and files, a secure phone that he’d used to call your group twice - and so you knew that he was still all in. You also knew that while the actual plan was to attack just before the wedding ceremony, there were contingencies in place in case the Lannisters acted out of character and attempted anything at the party.

“You certainly did not complain about the way I was touching you the other night.” Narrowing his eyes playfully, he cocked his head to the side. “Or the way I used my hands.”

“And I never would, but Oberyn, I do enjoy walking and being able to comfortably sit in chairs and breathing without pain, so … yeah. Five or six thousand years is a lot more than two, so -” Leaning in, you kissed him on the mouth, nodding. “Yes. You do what you need to do and I’m going to go and convince Toban and Tyene to let me have a couple cheap beers and the greasiest -”

“Do you want me to stay in the other room tonight?” His hands went to your waist, all traces of humor gone from his tone. “The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.” That threw you, and you were unable to keep your expression from changing before you got yourself under control. Oh, Oberyn.

“I’m … not sure.” Averting your eyes, you pressed your lips together. “I don’t think I’ll be able to answer that until I get back, to be honest.”

“Thank you. Thank you for being -”

“Oberyn, will you please stop being annoying and let her leave?” Tyene popped her head into the room, a clear look of irritation on her face. “This isn’t the inquisition, and -” He stepped backwards, pulling you with him without looking away. But Oberyn used one hand to shove the girl back into the hallway, followed by closing the door before he pressed his back to it, two quick knocks from outside immediately following. “Two minutes, Martell. Or I’m breaking this door down, and -”

“I’ll be out in one, Tyene!” Raising your voice, you cut her off before turning your full attention to Oberyn. “I’ll see you when I get back.” You contemplated telling him to have fun, but decided against it, choosing instead to lean closer, winding your arms around his neck and tucking your head in. “In one piece, too. Maybe even a little tipsy. We’ll see.”

“We will.” He kissed the top of your head, arms snaking around your waist. “Please be careful. Stay close to them. If one of them -”

“I’ll listen to them the same way I would you.” Backing off, you nodded. “I promise. Now kiss me goodbye and let me leave, alright?” He eyed you warily, but you could see that there was pride in his eyes, too - the man staring at you in a way no one ever had before.

His kiss took you by surprise, the press of the man’s mouth gentle, even as the tips of his fingers dug into your sides. He deepened it, Oberyn swallowing your sigh as he traced his tongue along the edges of your teeth and then let it slide past them, meeting yours.

It wasn’t a goodbye kiss, though you could have read it as one, because you were about to walk out the front door of the apartment into an uncertain world for the first time in days. Instead, it seemed to be a promise - that even though you were leaving and he’d be going to bed with another woman that he was in love with while you were gone, he was what would be waiting when you came back. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” He spoke into your ear, his voice barely above a whisper. “Enjoy yourself.”

He took your hand and urged you away from the door, opening it and walking down the hallway to where the other three were waiting. Toban and Tyene were dressed to leave the apartment but Ellaria looked more casual - her long hair down and trailing over her shoulders, the dress she wore loose, too. She looks … beautiful.

“Alright.” Tyene clapped her hands together when she saw the two of you and then pointed at the door. “I need a damn drink, let’s get the hell out of here.” She grabbed your free hand as she passed, tugging you away from Oberyn without breaking stride. “Toban’s buying.”

Two hours later, you were ready to admit that getting out of the apartment and back into the real world was exactly what you needed.

After a short Uber ride, the three of you found yourself in Culver City - not quite close enough to your apartment to make it obvious, but in a place you were much more comfortable with than you would have been at one of the upscale downtown bars.

You’d been on edge until you finished your first drink, constantly looking around the somewhat crowded room, fingers curled protectively around the frosty glass - but when you’d seen how at ease Tyene and Toban were, you followed suit.

Your second drink went down smoothly, too, while you focused on a story that Toban was telling about the years he’d spent in Australia. But before you could order a third, the man stopped you, his hand settling on your arm. “We’re going to walk down the street to another place before we do anything else.”

“Why? Is it -”

“I believe you call this bar-hopping?” He lifted his glass, saluting with it before he finished the final sips of his beer. “And there are still enough people in costume that it’s good cover.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Plus, I think Tyene’s got her eye on someone, so we’ll have to leave once she’s done.”

The two of you watched as the girl flirted with a man near the bar, reaching up to tousle his hair while she laughed. Good for her. “What about you?” You focused on him, taking a breath. “See anyone here that you like?”

“I can wait.” He drummed his fingers on the table, looking around the room. “I need less and less to survive as time passes. It’ll be good to… renew myself, but my focus right now is on you.”

“I didn’t want this.” Shifting in your seat, you shook your head. “The last thing I want is for someone else to be responsible for me because I’m just -” A human. A weak little human who wouldn’t stand a chance against the Mountain or a vampire or something as fucking simple as getting hurt.

“I can’t speak for her,” he interrupted, gesturing to Tyene, who’d pulled the man into a kiss. “But I’m always happy to spend time with new friends.” He laid his hand atop yours, squeezing. “Especially when they’re as special as you are.”

“I’m just -”

“You’re not just anything. Not anymore.” Toban lifted his hand and held up one finger, the man nodding - and you only realized that he was signaling Tyene when his attention was fully back on you, his expression widening into a grin. “And now I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” He nodded again, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a phone. “What is -”

“Choose someone you trust. Not family, if you can help it… but someone that you can have a conversation with. Talk for a few minutes, and then invite them out. Invite them to meet us at a random place around here. Are you familiar with the area?”

“Yeah.” You took the phone, turning it over in your hand. “Is there anywhere I should avoid?”

“No. Tyene can hear what you say. She’ll head to wherever you suggest next once she finishes with her friend and wait to see if anyone … else shows up before we do. Enhanced everything is an asset to us. And when we know it’s safe, you and I will head there, too.”

“Is this dangerous? I don’t want to risk it if … This was great. I don’t need to -”

“I heard what you said to Oberyn earlier. You need the interaction. You need to see a friendly human face.” He leaned closer. “You need more than any of us can give you right now.” He was right - and you knew it, so with a tiny nod of agreement, you averted your eyes and dialed a number you knew by heart.

It rang twice before someone picked up, and at the sound of the voice on the other end of the line, you closed your eyes, grinning. “Nora? It’s me. I’m so sorry I haven’t called you back. Want to meet for a drink?”

Tag list reblogs coming soon!

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x female reader #pedrostories #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #oberyn x female reader #the red viper #the prince of dorne #game of thrones fic #oberyn martell fic #oberyn martell vampire au #game of thrones au #modern oberyn au #cowritten with rachael #something tofightfor #aphelion #aphelion masterlist #oberyn martell masterlist

90 notes · View notes

the-blind-assassin-12 · 2 years

Text

Under the Dornish Moon - Ellaria’s POV

June Drabbles 2022 Day 11 & 12 - Barefoot & Night Walks

A/N: I have been wanting to challenge myself to write a drabble a day for a whole month for quite some time now, and I finally decided to just go for it. The goal is to fill every prompt on this list by @creativepromptsforwriting with a short one shot (500 - 2k words) by the end of June. Can I do it? I do not know. But let’s find out! - This is actually a companion piece to the one that @something-tofightfor wrote for these same two prompts (find it here!!), and it takes place in the Aphelion universe - the Modern Day Vampire Oberyn AU that we have been collaborating on - though we are not telling you when this scene occurs in the timeline.

Word Count: 2,020

Warnings: brief mentions of nudity, blood and violence, but this is really quite tame for these two.

He walked a few strides ahead of her, long legs carrying him down the gentle slope of the shoreline and towards the water, but she made no effort to close the distance. I do not have to chase him. I have never had to do that.

Instead, Ellaria watched his movement - the innate sway of his hips with every step, the casual swing of his arms, the way his shoulders lifted, back stretching and expanding as he unnecessarily filled his lungs with salt-scrubbed air. She noted the way that the soft ocean breeze swept through his hair. It perfectly mimicked the motion of her fingers running through his dark locks, all black save for the few strands of silver woven in. A small smile curved her lips as he turned slightly, the moonlight catching those silver threads to make them shine. In her long lifetime, Ellaria had seen a great number of captivating things both in daylight and by the light of the moon. But none of them compare to this. To him. She blinked and tilted her head, lips pulling higher to round out her cheeks. My Prince.

Her next thought came naturally, though it was the first time it had ever crossed her mind. This is the last time he will belong only to me.

There was no sadness that accompanied that revelation, no jealousy or trepidation in her heart. On the contrary, it sang with excitement and happiness. Because he is finally going to see. She sighed, and though to human ears the sound would have been swallowed by the sea, she knew that Oberyn heard her. Because I will finally be able to see him truly happy, and that is what he deserves. What he has always deserved.

It had been a very long time since Oberyn had been back home, and even longer since Ellaria had made the trip with him. Which is a shame because it is one of the most beautiful places in this world. Though the castle and the surrounding grounds remained unchanged just like the two of them, so much else was different now, so many variables in their lives rearranged. That was what made traveling to Sunspear so right for this, so fitting - and it was why she had not hesitated to make the suggestion. Ellaria knew that the sands of Dorne would always be a meaningful place for him. It was why she had gone against her own better judgment to move him thousands of miles south from King’s Landing while he was still in the midst of becoming like her. I could not allow him to stay in that place one moment longer. The stones of the Red Keep were soaked and stained with the blood of his family. She would not allow that place to stain his new life any more than it already had. Even though it was difficult and dangerous… it had to be done.

After living countless lifetimes and acquiring abilities that even others of her own kind could only dream of, there were very few things that scared Ellaria Sand. Losing Oberyn Martell was one of them, and yet that was exactly what she risked when she snuck him out of the city, directly under the noses of the Lannisters and their Mountain. He was incredibly weak, his body still repairing itself from the brutal transformation he was going through. And Ellaria, having given so much of her blood to change him, was by no means strong enough to protect him. If Tywin, Cersei or Gregor caught wind of their presence as they traveled through the city, she alone would not have been able to fight them off. The Mountain would have easily destroyed us.

She scoffed to herself as she continued walking, the sand slipping smoothly through her toes. But he was not even looking for us. They thought they won. If he and the Lannisters were not so preoccupied with celebrating the fact that he had killed Razek - one of her Children, the one who was going to help Elia save Doran - along with Oberyn’s sister and her young children, Ellaria knew that Gregor could have easily tracked her down and killed both of them. Especially because then we could only travel by moonlight. We had to hide from the sun and that made the trip take even longer. She closed her eyes as another wave rolled rhythmically onto the shore. Made it harder for me to keep him fed and help him heal but… Ahead, Oberyn had stopped, the man looking out over the glittering ocean. But it was worth it, to be able to let him wake up here.

The look on his face when he opened his eyes and saw the towers of Sunspear for the first time in his new life was one that she would never forget. It was second in her memory only to the expression that he wore when she gave him back his pendant - and the ability to walk in the sunlight again. Keeping that from him was the most difficult thing that I have ever had to do. The few times that she had been forced to take it away from him were no less hard, even if she had only ever done it when it had been absolutely necessary. But no matter how much it hurt her to deny him anything or to limit him in any way, the hurt was always erased as soon as she was able to give it back to him again. Because it means so much to him. Makes him so happy. The first time though, would always bring her the most joy to think about. Tears had rolled down his cheeks as he felt his skin grow warm under the rising sun, and they continued to slip from his dark eyes as he kissed her, the horizon exploding in bright golden light behind them.

“I am finally alive again, Ellaria.” He whispered the words against her lips, tears still falling as he removed both of their clothing. Though they had shared their bodies thousands of times since and hundreds of times before that morning, that time would always stand out as the most meaningful moment that they spent together.

It was moments like that one - their bodies entwined, skin bare to each other and the glow of the sun, their stilled hearts at peace and full of love - that gave the night back its beauty. Compared to daylight, the moon’s light, even in Dorne, seemed cold and sharp. It was more akin to shadows than to the fiery light of morning. Ellaria knew that for many of the Others, the light of the moon felt like the bars of a prison cell. But as soon as those bars were opened for him, she knew that Oberyn no longer felt that way, instead seeking out the moonlight in times of contemplation. Like tonight.

He let out a small sigh as she stepped up beside him, her fingers fitting blindly between his where his hand hung waiting for her to take it. There is so much on his mind. Giving his hand a light squeeze, she rested her head against his arm, her soft curls fanning out over his sleeve. But I do not think his mind will change what his heart has decided that it wants.

There was much on his mind the night that she had changed him. Much on his mind as he suffered for a century in darkness, much on his mind as he waited, biding his time, coiled to strike at the Lannisters. But no matter what dark clouds swirled in his mind, his heart had always remained unbowed, unbent and unbroken when it came to what he wanted. And it will be the same with this.

They sat on the beach, her back to his broad chest, her body encased by his strong arms and bent legs, and they spoke of all the things that had changed with time, and of all the things that hadn’t. But as the conversation faded and the lapping of the seafoam crept closer to where their toes were buried in the sand, Ellaria could tell that he hadn’t said everything that he needed to just yet. Turning in his hold, she faced him and began coaxing it from him with a kiss. “You look like you have something to say,” she stated as she gently pulled back, head tilting to one side. You look like it, you feel like it… I know it, Oberyn. Her hands tightened where she touched him. “Say it.”

He did, without hesitation, and his admission shocked her somewhat. “I am afraid, Ellaria. What if now that I-”

Though she never in all of their lifetimes together sought to control him or his thoughts, she did not want to allow this fear to take hold and stop him from following what was in his heart. “You have nothing to be afraid of, Oberyn. Nothing at all.” You know that, my Prince. She leaned in to let her lips and the side of her nose travel across his cheek up to his ear. “Trust yourself,” she urged, as the surf washed up to wet their feet. She left her next words as a whispered kiss right against his skin. “Trust what you know.”

You know that this is the right course of action, Oberyn. You know what it will mean… and soon you will know how it feels. You will know with absolute certainty that you were right. And I cannot wait for you to have that.

She saw some of the apprehension leave his eyes as he wrapped her in his arms to pull her more tightly to his body, and she could feel his gratitude for her support in the way that he held her. “Will you stay here with me until the sun comes up? I want-”

Ellaria stood, easily freeing herself from him as she rose to look down at him, giving him a slight shake of her head. “No,” she answered simply, the breeze lifting a few of her curls and slipping through his as well. Extending her hand, she waited for him to take it and then helped him to his feet. That is my least favorite word to say to you, Oberyn Martell. Once they were both standing along the shore again, she reached up to run her fingers through his hair. “The next time you watch a sunrise on this coast it will not be with me.” I will not be far, but I will not be the one that you share it with. Her lips quirked up into a grin. It is not sunrise yet, though. “But I will spend as long in your bed as you want me to today.”

As his head tipped back in laughter, her eyes found the spot on his throat where she had sunk her teeth deep into his veins the night that she made him what he was now. There was no mark, nothing visible even to her. But Ellaria would always feel something stir within her when she looked at him there. He has trusted me with everything since that night. His laughter died down and his chin came down with it so that his gaze was level with hers once more. And soon he will know what that is like, too.

The silver light that bounced off the water sparkled in his eyes and glinted off his teeth as he matched her grin. “Then what are we waiting for?”

Nothing, anymore, Oberyn. Hands laced together they left their footprints side by side in the sand as they headed back up the beach to the hotel that they were staying in for the night. We are waiting for nothing. As they lost themselves in each other and a tangle of sheets, the sun eventually coming up outside their window, she felt happiness like she hadn’t known in centuries. We are not waiting for anything anymore… and you are about to have a new life again.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please feel free to let me know or you can fill out the form on my masterlist. :)

tags: @raspberrymama @jupiters--moonxx @pretty-brown-eyess @spideysimpossiblegirl @csigeoblue @bport76 @littlemisspascal @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @nicolethered @ezras-channel-rat @quica-quica-quica @moparmama927 @amneris21 @hocuschlocus @withakindheartx @supersingle @paracosmenthusiast @cannedsoupsucks @alraedesigns @pheedraws @missminkylove @phandoz @justanotherblonde23 @scorpiowidow @my-tin-can-mans @chronic-nosebleed @marydjarin @stevie75 @the-rambling-nerd @iamskyereads @lowlights @seasonschange-butpeopledont @stardustsophia @dihra-vesa @disgruntledspacedad @mishasminion360 @pedrostories @nyctophiliiiaaa @roxypeanut @tanzthompson @athalien @coastielaceispunk @mswarriorbabe80 @mandosmistress @misspearly1 @solemnlyswearss @misspearlssideblog @elegantduckturtle @maladaptivemando @thirstworldproblemss @steeevienicks @supernaturalgirl20 @vonschweetz @practicalghost @gracie7209 @shadesofnerdlygrace @pascalpedrolorian @churchill356 @harriedandharrassed @thescarletfang @swtaura @karlawithacapitalk @thisshipwillsail316 @bethanyjojo @batdarkladyvampir @joelmillerscoffee @lestradeslover @allfoolsinluv @thereisaplaceintheheart @tintinn16 @jaime1110 @miss-mandalorian @tae27 @janebby @snarwor @jamandtoast86 @myleighm @valkblue @beefcakebarnes @g0ldenlush @thisgirl-knm @writeforfandoms @fific7 @revolution-starter @stealyourblorbos @wildmoonflower @iblogtopassthetime @luvmeijii @crookedwraiths @justanotherkpopstanlol

#oberyn martell x ellaria sand #ellaria sand x oberyn martell #aphelion one shot #pedrostories #pedro pascal character #the red viper of dorne #oberyn martell: aphelion #ellaria sand: aphelion #oberyn martell vampire au #co-written with rachael #aphelion #june drabbles 2022 #day 11 - barefoot #day 12- night walks #under the dornish moon #under the dornish moon: ellaria's pov

17 notes · View notes

the-blind-assassin-12 · 2 years

Text

Aphelion - 7

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: blood, serious injury (Reader and Oberyn), graphic description of injury, vampires and other such supernatural things

Word Count: 10,951

Summary: Ellaria finally arrives - but is she in time to save Oberyn? And if she’s not too late, will he survive what needs to be done in order to heal him? And what about you - who are you, and what do you really mean to Oberyn?

A/N: This story had been a TON of fun for @something-tofightfor & I to write, and seeing your response and reactions to it as it unfolds has only made that more true. We just want to say thank you to anyone who has given this a read, left a comment or reblog or reached out to either of us in any way. This part might start out a little... grim? But it’s definitely a turning point in the story, and we are both excited about what happens here AND what comes next. Enjoy!!

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 )

Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw when she entered the bedroom.

She’d been able to smell him - the stench of decaying flesh, of rot, sickness that permeated the entire apartment - from the moment she’d stepped through the door. But for Ellaria Sand, the sight of Oberyn in bed, his usually tanned skin nearly the same color as the sheets and his body slick with perspiration was enough to stop her in her tracks. My Prince.

Both hands shooting up to her mouth to cover it as her lips parted in shock, she gave herself only a single second to let the scene sink in and then she was moving forward again, feet carrying her soundlessly across the small bedroom and to his side. “I am here, Oberyn.” Without touching him, she leaned close, mouth directly next to his ear. “I am here and I will help you.”

He didn’t respond to the sound of her voice - something that had never been the case in the thousands of years she’d known him. At that, she couldn’t help touching him, her hands reaching out to cradle his face and turn it toward her, willing him to open his eyes. You must. Repeating his name, she waited for any sign of recognition, her fingers gently stroking over his smooth skin, the chill of it radiating through her palms.

There was none. Not the flutter of his eyelids or the seizure of his muscles. Not even the movement of his lips, seeking out the offered surface of her wrist, just in front of them. He was alive, and she could feel it, but to anyone else, he would have appeared dead. “But you’re not dead, Oberyn. And…” Pulling one hand away from his face, she raised her arm toward herself, closing her eyes. And you won’t die. I will not let that happen. She didn’t feel anything as her fangs pierced the skin of her wrist, tearing it open in a much larger - and more ragged - wound than usual, blood instantly flowing, coursing down and over the outside of her arm. “Drink, Oberyn. Just a little.”

Pressing the cut to his mouth, Ellaria watched as crimson coated his lips. My blood is different. Human blood couldn’t keep him alive, but mine … mine will do more. The theory hadn’t ever been tested before, and while she waited for the man to react to the taste of her, she used her free hand to pull the sheet covering his body down, another strangled sound leaving her throat as she saw the wound - and the resulting damage - for the first time. This is much worse than I imagined.

Tentatively pressing her palm over the center of it, she closed her eyes.

In a flash, Ellaria saw it all - the way he’d followed you into the alley, the first glimpse of Gregor Clegane that either of them had had in centuries, the way Oberyn had positioned himself between you and the monster without hesitation. She felt the way he’d reacted to having the opportunity to exact his revenge for the loss of his family, and the fearless, borderline reckless way he’d lunged at the larger man. That’s him, alright. She frowned at the knowledge that Oberyn’s bite had been sour, the first hint of something wrong, and then as the scene continued to play out, Ellaria realized just how much they’d underestimated the Lannisters and their connections - as well as their ability to develop measures to make them a true threat to Oberyn and the Others. “But we know now, Oberyn.”

Her eyes flicked away from the wound and back to the man’s face, still pale and waxy, though his lips were smeared with blood. He just needs more. Just enough to wake up. She pressed gently on his stomach, and then saw you through Oberyn’s eyes - the way you’d pled with him to drink from you, the way you’d trusted him to know how much was enough - and the way you’d continued to give even though she’d felt how weak it had made you in the brief moments that she’d had her hands on you. They mean something to each other, and I’m not sure either of them realizes what just yet.

It was then that she felt it - a tiny movement against her torn skin - and the anxiety she was holding onto finally dissolved, her attention drawn back to Oberyn’s face. She felt it again - the tip of his tongue prodding against her wrist, and then his whole mouth moved, the light pressure of his lips turning into the sharp bite of his teeth. That was followed with a long, low moan, and Ellaria scooted closer, using her other hand to brush the dampened curls back from his forehead. “There you are, Oberyn.”

He was still swallowing slowly, and Ellaria used that time to assess the damage, eyes following the dark lines that spread through his veins from the gash in his abdomen. There is something in him. Something that needs to…

“Ellaria.” She’d been so focused on his stomach that she hadn’t noticed him turn his head, or his hand lifting from the mattress to land on her knee. The single word was rasped, but it still sounded like him, and she closed her eyes briefly. “Am I dreaming?”

“No, you’re not.” She pulled her arm away from his face, closing her wound quickly with her tongue. “I’m here.” He groaned again and then finally opened his eyes, immediately locking them with hers. Even though it had been almost a decade since they’d seen each other in person, it didn’t feel like it for those moments. “I’m going to save your life again, Oberyn. You’d think after all these years -” “You gave me my life, Ellaria, so of course you would be the one to keep saving it.” The hand on her knee rose, and she leaned in instinctively knowing that he was reaching for her face. “Thank you for coming.” His palm met her cheek and she noted that his skin was marginally warmer than it had been, but she knew that it wouldn’t last. Not if I can’t get that poison from his blood.

“You can thank me when you’re better.” Covering his hand with hers, she squeezed. “I don’t -” “Where is she?” As though he was suddenly more aware, Oberyn struggled to sit up, his eyes going wide as he said your name. “She was here with me, and -” Interesting. Offering the man as kind a smile as she could manage, Ellaria shook her head.

“She’s in the other room, Oberyn. Very weak, but there’s food now. She’ll live. She did what she needed to do.” Eyes closing and shoulders sagging, Oberyn let himself relax against the pillows again, his relief that you had survived palpable. “When I’m finished with you, I’ll help her.” He didn’t say anything else, and Ellaria once again weighed her options. “Oberyn, I need you to look at me.” Ellaria wasn’t usually unsure of her words, but when it came to Oberyn - one of her oldest and most loved Children - things were different. “I don’t know the best way to help you.”

“Oh.” He blinked, frowning. “There are options?” She didn’t know how he did it considering the raw agony he must have been in, but he cracked a smile at his own joke, and she couldn’t help doing the same in return.

“You need a transfusion, a large one. And even though it is my blood, I think you need more than I can give to overpower that.” She gestured at his abdomen. “And it’s not safe for you to go in and out, not with Clegane and the Lannisters nearby.” He nodded slowly, brow furrowed. Just tell him. “The first option is to feed you. Give you nearly everything I can, and then wait.” It was the safer option, though it would cause him more pain in the long run - waiting to see if the blood of an Ancient could override the poison within him. And if it doesn’t, I won’t be able to try again right away.

“What is the second?” She heard the wariness in his voice, almost like he knew that the other option was the least desirable one. Of course he does. “And why do you think it is best?”

“I need to remove the source of the poison, Oberyn. Before you feed again. That way instead of fighting against it, your body is … just healing what is left.” His eyes drifted down, both of his hands moving to cover the wound. “It will be painful, and you will be loud while I do it, but -” “Kill me first.” It was the clearest he’d been since he started speaking to her, and she knew that he meant it. She froze. No. I - “Not the final death, Ellaria. But if you kill me, you can use the time before I begin healing to do what you need to do, and then as soon as I wake, we can -”

“And if that doesn’t work?” She snapped the words, head whipping back and forth. Does he not understand how risky this might be? “If I do that, and then you don’t come back? I -” “I made you a promise, Ellaria Sand, that I would not leave you alone in this world.” He used his elbows and struggled to push himself forward - just a ghost of the man she knew and loved, but still there, and the woman believed him. “And I do not break my promises.”

“You never have.” Ellaria closed her eyes, thinking. “You need to drink more first, just to be sure.” Just to be sure you come back to me. “Are you ready?” She watched his tongue run over his lower lip, the furrow between his brows deepening, and then he nodded, the motion decisive.

“I am.” He reached for her hand then, fingertips trailing over her knuckles and the rings she wore, and the single touch reminded her of the reason she’d fallen so hard for him centuries earlier - the human man that had stolen Ellaria’s hardened, stilled heart with only a single touch. He kissed the heel of her hand before he slid his lips to the veins of her wrist, glancing up at her and raising an eyebrow in question. Of course. Caressing the man’s cheek, she closed her eyes as he bit, the pressure as he sucked steadier and less desperate than it had been the first time. Good. That’s good.

Counting to five in her head, Ellaria said his name, Oberyn immediately releasing her wrist. She was pleased to see that though the bite was still messy, it wasn’t a jagged tear - which meant that he was more in control of his actions. “I’m going to do this, and then as soon as I’m convinced that you’re going to be alright, I’m going to go and help your friend.” She leaned in, pressing her forehead to his, her hands cupping his jawline as she’d done so many times before. “I love you, Oberyn Martell.” It took a moment, but he responded - his nose wrinkling as he smiled.

“I lo-” Before he could get the whole sentence out, Ellaria used both hands to jerk his head to the left, snapping his neck.

Oberyn went limp immediately, and though she wanted to, the woman didn’t give herself time to second guess the action. Instead, she rose to her feet and scooped the man into her arms, carrying him into the bathroom as the bloody sheets fell away from his body.

Placing him in the bathtub, Ellaria made quick work of stripping him completely, starting with taking off his pendant and settling the metal onto the counter with a hefty thunk. When she removed his pants, a soft cry filled the small room when she saw that the poisonous tendrils didn’t only travel up his body, but down, too, the black streaks extending over his groin and down one thigh, almost to his knee. Oh, Oberyn. Turning him onto one hip, she assessed the wound on his back, and though that one was slightly smaller, it was still present, and she knew it would be less simple than she’d first thought to remove the source of the infection. I’m going to have to…

Propping him up against the corner of the tub before getting in and kneeling between his legs, Ellaria tried to ignore the way his head hung listlessly against his chest, limbs heavy. You can do this, Ellaria. There was a chance it wouldn’t work - and she knew it as well as he did, but it was the only true option for him, and she knew that she needed to commit. Bracing her left hand on his shoulder, she curved the fingers of her right into a claw and pressed the tips of them to Oberyn’s stomach. “Remove it,” she willed herself. “Remove it and save him.”

She knew that if it worked, she had only minutes before he came back, and that it would start with his fingers and toes twitching. So without hesitating any further, Ellaria pushed forward, her fingers disappearing into the soft, diseased flesh of Oberyn’s stomach. It nearly disintegrated in her hand, and as she dug deeper, she found herself sobbing, tears falling freely down her face. “Ao daor pryjagon aōha kivio, Oberyn.” You cannot break your promise.

By the time she was done, the center of the rot had been removed, and there was a large hole in the man’s stomach - bloody and jagged, but no longer oozing black - and she settled back onto her heels, waiting, her eyes fixed on the man’s fingers, his knuckles pressed against the bottom of the porcelain tub. Come back to me.

She didn’t have to wait long to see the first twitch of his fingers, and even though it was unnecessary, she felt herself let out a long exhale, eyes closing. He straightened his head only moments later, and before Ellaria could speak, he was crying out, the man’s pain a howl that she’d only heard from him once before - in the moments before she’d entered Elia’s chamber to find him kneeling on the cold ground. “Oberyn, look at me.”

He did, but she saw only pain in his eyes - an ache she felt in her own chest. But he’s alive. It… it worked. His large hands scrambled to his stomach, finding the wound there, but she intercepted both of them with one of hers, fingers closing around his wrists and stopping the motion. “Ellaria. It hurts. Everything is - I need -”

“I know.” She murmured the words, once again lifting her arm - but that time, she offered him the meatiest part of her forearm, encouraging him with a nod. “I know what you need. And then it won’t hurt anymore, Oberyn. Drink.” He surprised her then, leaning down slowly and nosing his way up and into the crook of her elbow, lips lingering on her skin. When he bit that time, it was gentle, his fangs sinking into her skin so that she almost didn’t feel it.

Closing her eyes, Ellaria tilted her head to the side and leaned it against the cool tile of the shower wall.

He’s alive.

Nearly an hour later, Oberyn was tucked into bed atop fresh sheets and beneath a new blanket, Ellaria’s arms around him as she held him to her chest.

The effect of his drinking from her so deeply had been much the same as the night she’d changed him, the man passing out almost immediately after she’d pulled her arm away from his hungry mouth. It only took a few minutes for the blood to begin doing its work, and she watched as the wound on his stomach began to knit itself closed - skin and tissue beneath it regrowing at a slow but steady pace. Despite knowing that he’d need someone else to drink from before too long, it was still encouraging. And it’s all I can do for him right now.

Leaving him in the tub, she stripped the bed. Bundling the bloodied fabric and shoving it into the closet, she pulled out the replacements and remade the bed hastily. Though tired, she was still easily able to carry him back to the bed, climbing in with him and holding him close. “This is different for us, Oberyn.” Humming the words into his hair, her lips moving through the sweat-damp strands at the crown of his head. “I usually don’t have clothes on when I’m in bed with you.”

Though he was still naked beneath the blankets, she wasn’t, because she knew that she’d have to leave the room and attend to you. You’d been in pretty bad shape, but she hoped you’d looked into the bag she dropped onto the floor, which contained necessary food and drinks for you. She needs blood, too. And Ellaria would give it to you, but that wouldn’t eliminate your need for calories, either. I wonder if she’ll be able to speak. She glanced down at Oberyn, pulling the blanket up enough to look at his wound and finding it raw and pink, almost like someone had rubbed his skin with sandpaper. But it’s not open anymore. And the lines, they’re… fading.

“When you wake up, you’re going to need to tell me about this woman, Oberyn.” Ellaria kissed his temple, smiling. “I saw that mark on her neck, and I haven’t seen that from you in…” Raising both brows as she chuckled, the woman continued. “More than a century.” Nuzzling against the side of his face one more time, she disentangled herself from his body, standing next to the bed and staring down at him, assessing his health. She could still smell the rot, though it was faint, and even more encouraging, the man’s complexion was looking more like it usually did, even though his face was still somewhat sunken, exposing the high planes of his cheekbones. But it’s working. That’s all that matters. “I look forward to learning more about her.”

She slipped out of the bedroom and back into the living room, and Ellaria’s eyes widened at the sight of you - back against the front door and your head hanging in a very similar position to the way Oberyn’s had been after she’d snapped his neck. For a split second she feared that she had spent too much time soaking in the comfort of Oberyn’s slowly warming skin against her chest, that she’d missed her chance to help you as she’d told him that she would. No.

But she could hear your heartbeat - slow and irregular - and knew that you were just too weak to get up and walk even the short distance into the bedroom. Releasing a sigh, the woman said your name and you replied with a barely audible groan, attempting to lift your head. “We need to get you back into a bed.” “Always get up.” You mumbled the words and Ellaria bit back a smile at them, thinking of all the times she’d heard them from Oberyn himself. “Trying, but I…”

“I’ll help you.” Instead of doing that, though, Ellaria lowered herself onto the floor in front of you and reached forward, pulling the opened bottle of Pedialyte from your hand and setting it on the ground. There was some gone, but not much, and the woman frowned, looking at your other hand, which was resting on an unopened plastic container of broth. “You need to eat something first.”

She had very little experience caring for others in the way you needed her to, but if you were important to Oberyn, then you were important to her, too - and she was going to make an effort. “Can’t. Too tired.” Instead of listening to you, Ellaria opened the broth and picked it up in one hand, using the other to raise your head. “Need to sleep.” No. If I let you sleep now you won’t… you might not wake up.

“Drink this.” Holding the container of lukewarm liquid to your lips, she nodded twice. “At least a little bit of it.” You groaned but did as she asked, managing two mouthfuls before Ellaria pulled it back. “Do that again and I’ll help you to bed.” That time you took three long swallows - finishing half of what was in the container and using your other hand to reach for the drink. You lifted it off the ground but were having a hard time raising it higher than your thigh, and as soon as she put the soup down, Ellaria helped you again, her fingers encircling your wrist to bring the bottle to your lips. She watched your chest rise and fall along with analyzing the motion of the muscles in your throat as you drank. It’s helping.

But she couldn’t ignore the way your arms and upper chest looked - Oberyn’s bite marks crusted over with dried blood, the area around them already bruised deeply beneath the skin. I wonder if she knows. “Can I sleep now?” Blinking slowly at her, you looked hopeful. “I’ll lay right here, and -” “No, you’ll sleep in the bed.” She took the drink from your hand and then used both hands to support you, dragging you to your feet along with her. “Come with me.” It was slow but the two of you made it, Ellaria helping you into the bed and then sitting on the edge of it, staring down at you. Even weak and covered in bite marks, she began to understand what Oberyn saw in you, and figured that it would become even clearer when you were alert. Clearer for all of us. “I can help you sleep.” You laughed at that, the sound rich and strong in her ears, and it surprised Ellaria to hear how much better you sounded only a few minutes after you got some food in your stomach.

“I don’t think I’ll need help with that, but thank you.” You were already burrowing into the blankets, cheek turned to rest against the pillow. Alright then. Standing, Ellaria began to head for the doorway when she felt you grab her arm, the woman’s head turning quickly back toward you. “Thank you for coming, Ellaria.” Your eyes were bright - blazing, almost, and even though the blinds were drawn, she could see the determination in them. “Thank you for saving Oberyn.” Dumbfounded, the woman was unsure of what to say, but before too long, your hand fell away, landing atop the blanket.

You were sleeping almost instantly - and deeply, if the change in your breathing was any indication - and even though it was completely out of character, Ellaria leaned down, pressing her lips to your temple and thumbing over the fullest part of your cheek. “Thank you for keeping him alive long enough to give me the chance.”

Straightening up, Ellaria turned and walked from the room, pulling the door closed behind her and leaving you to dream.

You didn’t know what time it was when you opened your eyes, but you knew that you hurt. Your entire body ached, and that included your head, the dull pounding from earlier back and even worse than it had been. “Oh, fuck.” Groaning, you rubbed at your eyes, forcing yourself to take a deep breath - and that was when you realized that you weren’t alone in the room. Ellaria. “Hello?”

It was dark, so you couldn’t see her, but as soon as you spoke, she reached over, flipping the bedside lamp on. “You are awake.” It took a few moments to blink your vision clear thanks to the sudden brightness, but when you finally did, you got your first real look at the woman. She’s terrifying. She’d changed from the clothing she was wearing when she burst through the door, and the new outfit made her look more relaxed, though you knew she was anything but. “Do you need anything?”

“Water, maybe. Something for this headache.” Pushing yourself up so that you were leaning against the headboard, you sighed. “I can get it myself. How long was I -”

“It’s the middle of the night. You slept for nearly twelve hours.” Twelve? That’s a long time. “And you shouldn’t get up yet. I’ve got what you need right here.” The woman moved before you registered it, and then Ellaria was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding out a plastic bottle and a small handful of pills, which you accepted. “These are something that we’ve developed throughout the years. A special medication that can be used to rejuvenate those that we drink from in case … in case we take too much.” So this happens often. “They’ll put you back to sleep, but they’re perfectly safe, and they’ll help you recover much more quickly.”

“More sleep?” Swallowing them down along with a longer drag of water, you looked over at her. “How can I -” “You will. Trust me.” Leaning away from you to pick up another container, Ellaria went silent, but you spoke again before she could hand it to you.

“How is Oberyn?” Your voice caught on his name, but you forced a follow up question. “Were you able to heal him?” She regarded you curiously for a few seconds, but instead of answering, pushed the soup into your hands along with a spoon. That one wasn’t just broth, and you heard your stomach react to the sight of it as you pulled the lid off and began to eat.

“He’s resting. I don’t know how long it’s going to take for him to wake up. He…” She closed her eyes, grimacing. “He went through a lot.” He sure did. Swallowing a mouthful of soft veggies and noodles, you watched her, waiting to see if she’d say anything else. “And so did you.” Ellaria locked eyes with you once more, her expression somewhat softer than it had been. “Not many people would have done for him what you did, and I need to know why.” I wasn’t expecting that. At all.

“I couldn’t just let him die. That wasn’t ever an option. If … we hadn’t been able to reach you, or you’d been further away, it might have happened, though.” Taking another bite, you thought carefully about what you wanted to say. “I’ve only known him for a few weeks, but it’s long enough to know that he deserved better than what he got in that alley.” Oh, she might not know what happened, I should - “The Mountain attacked us in -” “I know.” Nodding, she gave you a tight-lipped smile. “One of my gifts is the ability to see the cause of injuries. I saw yours when I first came in, and saw Oberyn’s when I was with him.” Shifting her shoulders, Ellaria went on. “You seem to have accepted all of this - what we are, what Gregor Clegane is, the fact that none of this is normal… it’s a surprise.”

“What choice do I have?” Finishing the soup, you moved to put the empty container on the nightstand. “I saw it with my own eyes. I felt him drink from me, I watched the way his wounds seemed to heal on their own. And if all of that’s true, then everything about the Lannisters and the Mountain must be, too.” You knew that it was insane, that if anyone else heard the things that were coming out of your mouth, they’d assume you were crazy. But it’s all true. And that means anything could be.

The room was silent aside from the sound of your breathing and the faint thrum of music from somewhere outside, and you didn’t know how to continue the conversation. The two of you instead studied each other, Ellaria’s sharp gaze moving over your face and body while you eyed her with curiosity. There’s so much I’d like to ask her. So much I could learn.

She spoke before you could form a coherent question. “You care for him.” I do. Agreeing, you took - and held - a long breath. “And he cares for you, too.” The woman leaned closer, holding her hand out, and you extended one back, letting her turn your arm over to assess the marks there. “Not only did he stop himself from taking too much from you, he gave you something in return.” What? “He’ll have to tell you about it when he wakes up.” Yes, he will.

“Can I see him?” You realized how much you wanted to see the man as you asked the question, heart pounding as you waited for the answer. “I think I can walk, and -”

“No, not yet.” She let go of your hand, clasping both of hers together on her lap. “This process… I don’t know what he’s going to be like when he wakes up, what his frame of mind will be.” Oh. That makes … sense. “If he senses a human, he might … not be able to control himself.” She said your name, pulling your attention back up to her face. “I removed his pendant, too. Until I know, I cannot risk him leaving this apartment.”

“I understand.” Chewing on your lower lip, you realized that your headache had receded, and the blunt pain in your bones was already less prevalent. Those pills work fast. “Will he need to drink from a human again when he wakes up? I’m sure he’s going to be weak, even with your blood, I -” “Yes. But it won’t be you.” Her tone was matter of fact but not cruel, and Ellaria stood, crossing her arms over her stomach. “You’re still too weak, and he’s going to need more than you can give him.” Isn’t that always the case? You lowered your head, a feeling of inadequacy washing over you along with another sudden wave of fatigue. “You did everything you could, and Oberyn will always be thankful for that.” She paused, repeating your name. “And now, I’d like to do something to show you how thankful I am for you.” What? Head whipping up, you watched as Ellaria raised her wrist to her lips and opened her mouth, biting down. “He will hate himself if he sees you like this, with all of those marks on you from his teeth.”

You shrugged, blinking in confusion. “They’ll heal. It’s going to take a while, but -” “I can heal them now.” Holding her arm out to you, your eyes moved to the blood welling from the wound. “You only need a mouthful or two.” You wondered if that was what he’d done when he closed the first wound - used a small amount of his blood on the surface of your skin. “Just enough to heal the wounds and put you back to sleep. Your body will do the rest.”

“Yes.” She moved her arm closer and you reached for it, holding it steady while you hesitantly lowered your mouth to the surface of her skin. It’s just blood. And it’s not even… it’s fine. Fighting back the urge to gag as the first taste of copper hit your tongue, you closed your eyes and sucked, filling your mouth and swallowing. The second mouthful went down easier and so did the third, and then you straightened up, Ellaria pulling her arm out of your grip and using her thumb to wipe the lingering drops of blood from your lips before sealing the place where she’d pierced her skin.

“Sleep now. When you wake up, he’ll probably be awake too, and the two of you can speak.” Popping her bloodied thumb into her mouth, she smiled around it. “They will pay. The Lannisters and their Mountain will pay for this.”

The determination in her voice soothed you, and with a sigh, you relaxed back against the pillows, closing your eyes. “I hope so. And I hope I get the chance to help make it happen.” Ellaria laughed, though the sound was almost too quiet to hear.

“You will. And so will I.”

Her senses had been heightened for thousands of years, but Ellaria hadn’t ever been more alert than she was while waiting for Oberyn to come to.

It had been hours since she’d left you to return to the second bedroom, the woman keeping her ears trained to the sounds of your breathing through the closed doors at the same time as she curled her body around the man’s from behind, holding him close to her chest and waiting.

She’d done the same thing the night she turned him, but the difference was that she’d known he would wake up and be perfectly fine that time. This time, I’m not so sure. Then, the pose had been one of protection - keeping the man safe in his most vulnerable moments. Now? Again it was for protection, but not only his. Ellaria knew that her blood would bring him back, but she also knew that the man would be ravenously hungry upon waking up, and having you - a human - so close was potentially dangerous for all three of you.

She didn’t think that he would hurt you, especially when he’d been so close to death from the poison and still hadn’t drained you completely, but she didn’t want to take any chances. It would not be fair to either of them. Oberyn’s pendant was hidden away in the safe that even he didn’t know existed within the apartment, meaning that he wouldn’t try to leave as long as he woke during the day. And he should. We have hours of daylight left. But that meant keeping him confined with you, and even though Ellaria knew that she was stronger than him and always would be, she still expected Oberyn to put up a fight. He will not mean it, but …

She sighed, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead against the man’s bare back, the ridge of her nose aligned with his spine. It was a familiar position for them, and as she waited, she allowed herself to think back to the years they’d spent together both before and after she’d turned him, the countless hours they’d enjoyed indulging in each other in every way imaginable.

She loved him more than she’d ever loved anyone else, and in a very different way, too. Even though Ellaria always tried to remain as neutral as possible when it came to her Children, she’d never been able to with Oberyn. Part of the reason had been that they’d been lovers before she’d turned him, but even Ellaria knew that it was more than that. We were meant to find each other for many reasons.

During the first few centuries after turning him, being apart from him had been physically painful, which was a new development for Ellaria. The man with the golden skin and dark eyes that she’d met beneath the Dornish sun knocked her world off its axis, even before he’d been like her, but after? It was unbearable.

Ellaria had met and loved many before and after him, but none had impacted her in the way that he had, and even if his sister and her children hadn’t met such a tragic end, Ellaria believed that she would have eventually offered him immortality, if only to spend more time with him.

But Fate had been cruel, thrusting them both into a situation that had forced them to choose much sooner than anticipated, and despite the many years they’d spent together, Ellaria knew that there was more waiting for the man than she could ever hope to give him. “This world has not been kind to you, Oberyn,” she whispered, her lips barely moving over his skin. “Not in all of the ways you deserve.”

The first years after he’d been turned had been difficult for both of them despite their closeness. Oberyn coming to terms with leaving the people and places he loved behind as he worked hard to adapt to his new lifestyle had taken longer than expected. It hadn’t surprised her that he missed the daylight so much, and she knew that if there was one regret that he had about what he’d become, it was the years he’d needed to spend in the dark, learning to control his urges and temper his anger, waiting coiled in the shadows for the right moment to strike back at the Lannisters with the full force of his rage.

Giving him the gift of daylight again had been a monumental occasion for both of them, and Ellaria hoped that it wouldn’t come to her holding the reward over his head again in their current situation. I can’t. Clegane and the Lannisters are here now, and it’s got to end. Their presence complicated things, but so did you, because even unwittingly, Oberyn had pulled another person into his longstanding feud, and if there was anything Ellaria was certain about, it was that he wouldn’t let another innocent die at the hands of his enemies. Or his own.

She tightened her hold on him, her fingertips stroking over his sternum, and Ellaria listened again for your breathing, happy to hear that your heartbeat was steadier and stronger, the nutrients and her blood doing wonders to speed along your recovery. You’d still need at least another day or two to be at full strength, and she didn’t know if you knew how dangerously close you’d actually been to death, but that didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was -

“Oberyn.” She murmured his name as he stirred in her arms, his shoulders shifting and then the rest of his body stiffening. “It’s just me.”

“Ellaria.” He nearly moaned her name, and despite having heard it in that same manner thousands of times before, it still made her smile, her hold on him loosening enough so that he could turn onto his back, head angled toward hers. The moment she looked into his eyes, she felt relief wash over her. He’s going to be alright. Arranging his features into a deep scowl, Oberyn spoke again, his tone accusatory. “You killed me.”

She laughed then, lowering her face so that she could rest her forehead against the front of his shoulder. Oberyn lifted an arm and wound it around her body, the palm of his hand flat against the center of her back, its weight comforting. “You told me to.” She heard him scoff and then both of them went quiet for long moments, the sounds of the surrounding apartments filling the room. He said her name again and she raised her head, meeting his eyes for the second time. “Yes?”

“Thank you.” He frowned. “I shouldn’t have had to call you, but I -” “I was the only one that could have saved you, my prince.” Her head moved from side to side. “The only one you could have called. I didn’t know if I would make it in time, and I almost didn’t.” She watched him as she spoke, and even though the man was paying attention, she saw the way his nostrils flared, eyes moving slightly around the room. I knew it. “Oberyn, look at me.” “I’m hungry.” He stiffened beneath her again, and Ellaria nodded in understanding, though she didn’t let him go. “I smell -” “Blood. You smell blood, Oberyn, because this bed was covered in it, and so was -” “I hurt her.” He groaned, eyes closing. “I took too much. I marked her, and still couldn’t -” “You did mark her, Oberyn. And we need to talk about that, but…” She moved one hand, using her fingertips to push the hair away from his brow. “But you did not kill her, even when it would have been simple to. And that is why I cannot let you leave this room right now, because I can feel your hunger.” He didn’t try to convince her otherwise, and Ellaria realized that that was a good thing, the man choosing not to deny or downplay his urges, but also not outright fighting her. “I brought blood for you. For us. We can’t leave yet, so -” “Where is it?” He reached for his chest, his eyes widening. “My pendant. I was wearing it, we were on the balcony and … she took me into the sun, and …” “It is hidden. You’ll get it back when the time is right. I can’t risk you leaving, Oberyn. You’ll want to. You think you need to, but I have everything here that you need. Everything to -” He struggled in her arms then, top lip curling up in disgust and exposing one of his fangs.

“Bagged blood? No. I need -” Turning his head away from hers, Oberyn snarled again, jaws snapping as he tried to collect his thoughts. “I can smell her, almost taste her, she’s so close, and she’d let me -” “She’d let you do anything you asked, Oberyn, and that’s why you can’t.” Ellaria pushed harder, climbing onto the man’s lap and flattening her hands against his shoulders as she straddled his hips. “I saw it. I felt it when I touched her. If I’d been an hour later, you might have still been alive, but she wouldn’t have been.” He stopped moving at her words, his expression growing serious though the hunger in his eyes didn’t fade. “She couldn’t even lift a small bottle to drink. Couldn’t stand up from the floor or open her eyes all the way. Couldn’t open a plastic container of soup. She used all of her strength to answer the door and let me in.”

“But I need -” He whined, closing his eyes and struggling beneath her again, but Ellaria didn’t budge.

“There was no point in putting a mark of protection on that woman’s neck if you are the one she needs protection from, Oberyn.” That changed things, his lips parting at her accusation. That is what I thought. “She’s still sleeping. She may sleep for hours more. She is healing, and even with my blood, it’s going to take time.”

“You gave her your blood?” His voice was quiet, the man wetting his lips before he spoke again, a little more control in his tone. “But you never -” She hadn’t wanted to tell him the extent of what he’d done to you, but Ellaria knew that it was likely the only way she would get him to understand. “Why did you do that?”

“I can show you.” She closed her eyes. “You have enough of my blood coursing through you right now, I can -” “Yes.” The single word was strained, the man fighting with himself to get it out. “Show me, Ellaria, because I -”

It was a rare thing - the woman could remember only a handful of times in her entire existence that she’d shared her Sight with someone else, but without pausing to think about it, her hands shot out, the nails of her pointer fingers digging into Oberyn’s temples hard enough to draw blood. He cried out at the feeling of them breaking skin, but didn’t look away, instead locking eyes with Ellaria as she thought back to the way she’d found you on the inside of the door - your arms and chest riddled with raw and ragged bite marks, clothes crusted and stained with blood and your skin appearing taut over your entire body from dehydration, though your eyes were still bright with hope and your voice tinged with relief.

He moaned, finally closing his eyes and she saw tears leaking out the corners of them, but she kept going, presenting him with the image of you slumped against the door, the bruises both surface level and deep within the muscle, the way your dangerously slow heartbeat echoed in her ears. “Stop, please.” He was no longer struggling beneath her, and Ellaria pulled her hands back, watching as his skin healed within seconds. “I did that.”

“You did. But it wasn’t because you wanted to, Oberyn. You were trying to survive, and you had someone that offered… you weren’t going to say no.” She licked her fingers clean, giving him a few seconds to collect himself. “I didn’t want you to see her like that. And I know she wouldn’t have wanted you to, either… but it was necessary, I think.”

“Yes. It was.” He blinked up at her, and Ellaria was struck again with the look in his eyes and how much it had changed since she’d last seen him. He’s different now. But is it because he’s so close to getting what he wants, or… is it something else? “I’ll drink what you brought. The last thing I want to do is hurt her.” He paused. “... Any more than I already have.”

You’d forgive him - she already knew it, and once Oberyn saw with his own eyes that you were going to be fine, he’d forgive himself, too. But Ellaria t knew all too well how difficult the current situation was for him. “I need you to stay in here while I warm things up.” She scooted backwards, still eyeing him. “With the door closed.” Glancing down, she used both hands to pull the blanket away from his body, feeling relief at the fact that the wound on his stomach was nearly gone, only a small, red area remaining at the center. The black lines are gone, too. And he doesn’t … he doesn’t smell sick anymore. “It won’t take me long.”

Carefully, she climbed off of him and the man didn’t move, remaining still on the mattress as she gracefully moved toward the door. “Ellaria?” He spoke quietly, keeping his eyes on the ceiling. “Do you know why I -” “Not now, Oberyn.” She smiled at him, the expression softening her features. “Tell me later.”

Shutting the door behind her, Ellaria worked quickly to heat the blood bags she’d brought, opting for the ease of the microwave instead of boiling water. Even though she knew he would hear it, the woman crossed the apartment and peeked into your room, scanning the visible skin of your body and nodding at the fact that while she - and Oberyn - would still be able to see the remnants of where the wounds were on your body for at least a few days, you wouldn’t. And that’s all that matters. Once the door was closed again, Ellaria collected the blood and carried it back into the second bedroom, finding that Oberyn was sitting up on the edge of the bed, facing the shuttered window and pressing both hands against his abdomen.

He didn’t move, even when she lowered herself next to him, reaching over to hand him the first of the bags. Ellaria watched as he tore the nozzle open, raising it to his lips and beginning to drink. He groaned at the first swallow, and within 30 seconds, the bag was empty, the man reaching for the second. He drained that one, too, and when she tried to hand him the third he shook his head no, Ellaria instead biting it open and taking a long sip. “I wasn’t expecting it, Ellaria. I thought he was here, the murders, they… they felt right, but seeing him?”

His voice was stronger, the man finally angling his head so that he could look at her. She’d seen that look in his eyes before - one of resolve, and even though she wanted to speak, she chose not to. He needs to tell me what he’s thinking.

“I reacted too quickly. I should have noticed. I should have just tried to wound him, not -” He swore, dropping his head down into both hands, fingers carding through his hair as he gripped the locks. “There’s something in his blood now. Something poisonous. It would have killed me much more slowly if he hadn’t drawn blood, but still, I -” “Did you hurt him, Oberyn?” She was more alert, too, the blood she’d consumed not at all what she was used to, but still doing what she needed it to do. “Clegane, I mean?” “Yes.” He smiled again, fangs visible. “Yes, I did. It would have killed any normal man, and I’m quite sure that even with his… enhancements, it still did a lot of harm.” Good. She took another drink, still eyeing him. “But I don’t know where he would have gone, I -” “I’m working on that.” She reached out, settling a hand on his knee. “I’m also working on getting you something else, so that when you face him again, you’re… prepared.” She didn’t know how long it would take, but she knew that when Gregor was found, they’d be ready. “I was busy, Oberyn. Even though I hurried to get back here, I was still… you wouldn’t ever ask for my help to avenge your family, but -” “She was the one that suggested I call you.” Oberyn sighed, straightening back up and rubbing his hand over his thigh. “She’s special, Ellaria. She believed everything I told her, she -”

“She works for Golden Lion.” She hadn’t wanted to bring it up immediately, but Ellaria had to mention it. “Are you sure you can trust her?” “Yes.” He reached out, fingers wrapping around her wrist before bringing it up to his lips. “Yes, she had nothing to do with any of this. She’s an archivist, so she knows a lot about Westeros and … and about our world, Ellaria. About home. But … What she did for me? If I’d had any doubts, it erased them. Entirely.” I believe you. “She can help me. I don’t know how, but I’m sure of it”

“Is that why you wanted to protect her?” Finishing her drink, Ellaria set the empty bag down on the bed, adjusting her position so that she could look at the man next to her. “Because you thought he could help?”

“No.” His tone changed again, Oberyn reaching for her and sliding his hand along her jaw before leaning in to press a kiss against her lips, the woman barely able to conceal her reaction to the touch. Some things never change. “No, Ellaria, I did that because I was afraid that I wouldn’t make it, and didn’t want you to find me and then think she had something to do with it.” He knows me well. She smiled as he kissed her again, Ellaria scooting closer and lifting one of her hands, the bracelets on her wrist jangling as she tangled her fingers in his hair. “I did it because I want others like us to know that she’s not to be touched, whether or not I’m around, because of what she did for me.”

Oberyn’s lips moved down, closing over the edge of her chin and Ellaria smiled, tugging on his hair a little harder. “She is special, then.” He nodded, lips moving over her throat and then back up, capturing hers in a kiss that anyone else would have described as desperate, but Ellaria recognized it as grateful, a signal of his devotion. “Does she know the gift you gave her?”

“No.” He murmured the word, still focused on her. “No, she doesn’t. And I did it without asking, but I …” He kissed her on the mouth again and Ellaria finally kissed him back, her tongue gliding along his lower lip briefly. “I had no choice. I didn’t know if I’d have another chance.” I know.

“No one will touch her, Oberyn.” Ellaria whispered the words back, the man pulling her onto his lap, her long legs wrapping around his waist as she settled in. She dug her fingers into the skin of his back, urging him closer, and Oberyn complied, one large hand curved against the back of her head and gripping her curls tightly, the other settled in at her hip. It was always like that between them - the pull that she felt toward the Dornishman, the way they fell right back into the same routines even after being apart for so long. This is why I cannot stay with him at all times, she reminded herself as the kiss deepened, the man licking into her mouth. Because we would consume each other.

And they had - for years, Ellaria staying with Oberyn long enough to ensure that he was ready to live his new life responsibly and safely, and then she’d forced herself to leave, telling him that while she did in fact love him, he needed to enjoy his life, living it in a way that allowed him to be as free as he’d been when human.

She never closed the door to him, never ruled out the two reconnecting, and while she knew the bond that Others had with those that turned them was stronger than almost any force on earth, Oberyn’s connection to her was something else entirely. And so is mine to him. But I want… She sighed into his kiss, the action sloppier than it had been, Oberyn’s fingers tight against the back of her neck, his other hand sliding over her lower back. I want him to be truly happy. And that cannot be with me.

She scratched her nails up his back and over his shoulders, Oberyn moving his mouth from hers to the side of her throat, the edges of his teeth grazing the skin there as he groaned. But after only a few seconds, he stopped suddenly, straightening up and looking into Ellaria’s eyes. “She’s awake.” She is. She’d heard it too - the telltale shifting of your body on the bedsprings two rooms away, a low hum as you cleared your throat, and even though the woman was surprised that Oberyn had been able to listen for it too, it made sense. Because he cares.

“She is.” The woman spoke quietly, eyes locked with Oberyn’s. “Listen to her heart, Oberyn. Don’t let what I showed you change the way -” “I know.” He pushed the woman’s hair away from her face and Ellaria leaned into his touch, the corners of her mouth turned up into a knowing smile. “I’m going to need to put clothes on, Ellaria.” Glancing down, Oberyn sighed. “I don’t think this is the right moment for me to bare myself to her for the first -” Wait, what?

“Oberyn, are you telling me that the two of you…” She trailed off, trying to collect her thoughts. The first time? That would mean that … “That you’ve never -” “I’ve done nothing more than kiss her.” She heard the sincerity in his voice, and Ellaria was stunned at the admission. That changes everything. That means that … that he marked her without ever… “And even that was only a few times.” He lifted his hands and cradled her face, once again staring into Ellaria’s eyes. “That is how I know I can trust her, Ellaria. She offered me everything without …” She offered him everything without him offering anything.

“Then she’s in for a treat when she finally has you, Oberyn.” Ellaria leaned in, kissing him once more, but that one was fast, her thumb swiping slowly over his cheek. “She has no idea what’s waiting for her.” And I don’t just mean your body. “She’s in the living room. I’m going to go and check on her while you get dressed.”

Unwinding her arms and legs, Ellaria climbed off of Oberyn and reached for the empty blood bags, gathering them into one hand. With the other, she straightened her clothes, glancing in the mirror as she passed it before pulling the door open and stepping into the kitchen area. You were sitting on the couch, head in your hands, and as the woman threw the empty containers away, she frowned.

“It took a lot of energy to change my clothes.” Your voice was still somewhat weak, but you were able to turn your head to look at her as you spoke, eyes blinking slowly as they focused on Ellaria’s face. “I was going to shower. It’s been days, but I -” “You need to eat something else.” Ellaria sighed. “Still something soft, but not …” “Eggs sound amazing. Eggs and toast.” She watched as you sat straight up, closing your eyes and tilting your head back. “God I can’t wait to -” “I brought eggs.” Your eyes flew open, attention back on the woman’s face. “And bread. There was more in that bag than soup and things to drink.”

“Are you kidding me?” Forcing yourself to your feet, you walked toward the kitchen, a hopeful expression on your face. “That seems too good to be true.”

“I am not.” She stepped back, gesturing to the refrigerator. “It’s all in there.” Breathing out another thank you, you opened the door and reached in, easily lifting the carton of eggs and setting it out on the counter. You moved on autopilot it seemed, and Ellaria couldn’t do anything but step back and watch you with her arms crossed over her chest as you cracked a few of them into a cup, using a fork to scramble them. She’s doing much better.

By the time you were pouring the liquid into a heated pan, Ellaria was smiling - though she was curious as to what was taking Oberyn so long. “How is he?” You glanced over, using the curved part of a spoon to stir what was in the pan. “You wouldn’t have left him alone if -” “He’s awake again.” Ellaria shook her head. “I thought he would have been out by now, but …” But he’s waiting for something. “But he needed a few minutes.”

“Oh.” With a quick nod, you dumped the cooked eggs onto a plate and immediately replaced them in the pan with two pieces of bread, warming up one side and then flipping them over. “Yeah, that makes sense.” You were torn, and Ellaria couldn’t figure out why, but after a few seconds, it hit her: you likely had an idea of what she meant to Oberyn, and didn’t know how to act around her now that there weren’t two lives hanging in the balance. Of course. Because what he and I … it’s not normal. This isn’t how… “Do you mind if I…” Gesturing to the couch, you lifted your plate. “I need to sit, and -” “Of course.” She exited the kitchen, heading into the other room and taking a seat on the chair. You followed a few seconds later, your plate in one hand and another drink - a bottle of juice - in the other, lowering yourself onto the couch. Ellaria watched you eat though she stayed quiet, unwilling to interrupt as you put the most substantial meal you’d had in days into your body.

“Do you eat things, too?” You swallowed, finally making eye contact with her as you put the plate down on the table in front of the couch. “Oberyn said he likes to because it reminds him of being alive, but -” “I do sometimes.” Ellaria linked her fingers together, crossing her legs at the knee. “To keep up appearances, mostly. But I -”

“Ellaria likes fruit.” Oberyn’s voice drew your attention away from her, Ellaria following the movement of your head as you turned it enough to look at where he stood. “She’s also a fan of cookies. She may not look it, but she can be very sweet when she wants to be.” Your eyes were locked on Oberyn’s face and Ellaria watched as your features flipped through a myriad of expressions as you assessed his condition.

He was almost completely covered - the man dressed in a pair of dark sweat pants and a dark long sleeved shirt, but she knew that it wasn’t that that drew your attention. You were focused on his face, on the way his features were no longer sunken and stretched, on the way he was standing upright with his eyes clear and his teeth bared in an easy smile. Oberyn, though, was staring at you - at the way your hair was pulled back from your face, the way that your skin looked, the life in your eyes and the set of your shoulders. See, Oberyn? She made it. But she also knew that he was looking deeper, his eyes scanning over the faint remnants of your injures, thinking about the way he could sense that you were still tired, that what had happened had truly impacted you. Don’t look at that. Look at the mark, Oberyn, look at -

He didn’t say anything else before he moved, closing the distance between where he stood and the couch and dropping to his knees in front of you, using one hand to push the table back. “I am sorry.” You inhaled sharply when he reached for you, eyes widening in surprise as the man cradled your face in his hands, urging you to look directly at him. “For what I did while I was weak. For not asking each time. For not being able to -” “It’s okay, Oberyn.” She could barely hear you, but Ellaria didn’t move, willing herself to stay completely still and let the two of you have your moment. “You didn’t know. And I offered. I knew what I -” “No. No you did not.” He rose a little, bringing his face even with you and then pressed his forehead against yours, eyes remaining open. “I fed too often. While you were unconscious. While I was delirious.” I’ve never seen him like this before. Ever. “I put you in danger.” He murmured your name and Ellaria watched as you let out a shaky breath, one hand tentatively reaching for him, your fingers stroking through the hair that curled over the tops of his ears.

“I wasn’t in any danger.” You finally closed your eyes, another breath escaping you as Oberyn pressed his lips to yours briefly. “Remember? You promised me I wasn’t.” She watched as he laughed, and Ellaria allowed herself a tiny smile, her sharp eyes moving between the two of you. This could be what he needs.

Ellaria had seen Oberyn with many men and women throughout the years, and even though he’d gotten close to a few humans, she’d never sensed a connection on the same level that she saw one between you two in only a few moments of observation. Interesting. “I did.” His shoulders rose and fell, and then Oberyn tilted his head, moving to kiss you again, his lips parted. “You’re right.”

He kissed you then, and for a few moments, you let him - sighing into it, your fingers relaxing and your other hand falling to land on his forearm. But without warning, you pushed him away, eyes going wide and the word no tumbling from your lips. She was just as confused as Oberyn - if the expression on his face was any indication, but before the woman could speak, Oberyn asked you what was wrong - and Ellaria heard the fear in his voice. What is going on? Why would she -

Her unspoken question was answered when you met Ellaria’s eyes, sheer terror in them, and the woman felt herself deflate, a twinge of understanding sending a chill through her body. She doesn’t want to kiss him in front of me because … “Oberyn, you and Ellaria… the two of you … I’m not…” Head shaking quickly back and forth, she saw the apology in your eyes and could almost taste it on your tongue. There’s nothing to apologize for, he had to have told her - “She’s here now, and you …”

Ellaria finally moved, saying your name and leaning forward, one hand reaching out to touch Oberyn’s arm, her other hand coming up so that she could cup your chin in one hand. “My being here changes nothing. It seems like there’s a lot that you still need to understand about us and … about the way we love each other.” She couldn’t help herself, running the tip of her thumb over your lower lip and watching as you remained steadfast in the way you looked at her, though the fear dissipated slightly as the seconds ticked by. “I think you and Oberyn have some things to discuss, hmm?” She smiled at you, completely ignoring Oberyn and leaning in, her lips close to your ear. “Between you and me?” Ellaria paused, knowing that the man could hear. But that’s the point. “I think you deserve much more than a kiss.”

You gasped and even Oberyn couldn’t hold back a reaction, but Ellaria only stood up, pulling her hands away from both of you and urging the man to stay where he was with a flat, outstretched palm. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to give you some time to talk, Oberyn. No one is looking for me here, especially in the daylight. No one knows what I look like since I haven’t been seen in this city in decades. I am going to go out and go shopping, and when I come back, hopefully we’ll have more information from Tyene and can start planning.” She bent down, pressing a kiss to his cheek and then spoke so that only he could hear her. “Tell her everything, my prince.”

Without waiting for a reply, Ellaria straightened up and headed for the door. Slipping her shoes back on, she picked up her bag from the hook she’d hung it on while putting the remainder of the food away, and then she pulled the door open and stepped through it. Once it shut behind her, she closed her eyes, leaning against it.

Seeing Oberyn the way he was with you just now was a shock, and something that she hadn’t quite expected - but it was a welcome development. Maybe there’s hope for him yet.

Tags coming separately.

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x female reader #pedro pascal character #pedrostories #oberyn martell x ellaria sand #oberyn martell fic #oberyn martell: aphelion #game of thrones fic #cowritten with rachael #aphelion #game of thrones #oberyn martell vampire au

107 notes · View notes

something-tofightfor · 2 years

Text

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.

40 notes · View notes

something-tofightfor · 3 years

Text

Aphelion - Part 4

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

Word Count: 7,666

A/N: We know it’s been a while, but here’s the next part of Aphelion! There may be a short break in chapters since both @the-blind-assassin-12 and I are working on other things as well, but please know that we’re still very focused on our favorite vampiric Prince of Dorne! If you need to catch up on this story before diving in, the Aphelion Masterlist can be found here.

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

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

Warnings: blood, serious injury, discussion of death, mentions of poison, talk of the past, vampires and supernatural things

Summary: You and Oberyn are safe in the apartment that he led you to - but safety doesn’t mean certainty. After his confrontation with Gregor Clegane, the offer of your blood is the only thing you can make ... but will it be enough?

And if it’s enough - does that mean you’ll get answers ... or just more questions?

(banner by @valkblue; dividers by @firefly-graphics)

“Here. Right here.”

The skin of your inner elbow tingled with the warm pressure of his lips and then the sharp prick as he pierced the same place he’d just kissed. You settled your free hand on his shoulder, fingers digging into the muscle there as you closed your eyes and inhaled deeply through your nose. Everything’s fine. Heart hammering in your chest, you tried to prepare yourself for more pain - for the sharp pinch of his teeth as they pierced your flesh, or the pressure of his bite as he sunk them further into your veins. This is really… this is happening. He -

Your eyes opened as his grip on your knee tightened in a gentle squeeze, the man’s thumb dragging slowly over your thigh. He… it’s - it doesn’t... You swallowed as he did the same where he held your wrist, pressing and swiping the pad of his thumb lightly over the thin skin on the underside of your forearm. Though he didn’t remove his mouth to speak, you could tell that he was trying to urge you to relax.

Without realizing it, your limbs had gone rigid, body freezing up and lungs trapping whatever oxygen was inside them in preparation for the deeper pain that never came. It… it doesn’t hurt. Not really. There had been a quick sting, but it was nothing like what you anticipated, the sensation fading just as fast as it had flared up.

His promise from earlier echoed in your mind, the sincerity in his tone amplified by the light in his dark eyes. I will not hurt you, he’d assured you ahead of leading you into the sparsely furnished apartment equipped with several security locks. That was before you had offered to let him feed on you though, and while you weren’t afraid for your life even if you should have been, you’d assumed that it would be painful or at the very least uncomfortable. But it… I just feel… him.

Your lips parted to release your held breath, some of the tension leaving your body with your long exhale. He continued to attempt to soothe you with his touch, the hand on your leg sliding a few inches up your thigh, the other following the line of your arm into the cup of your palm. Closing your eyes again, you eased your grip on his shoulder, fingers stretching towards his back, and you tried to focus on what you felt in the absence of pain.

There was a strange but not unpleasant mixture of warmth and cold; a tingling, icy rush beneath your skin that gave way to the heat of his lips. You felt his tongue, the tip of his nose and the curve of his forehead where it rested in the crook of your arm. Dizziness crept in at the corners of your consciousness but ebbed away as you willed yourself to breathe normally, thoughts clearing in waves.

None of it was familiar and all of it should have raised the hair on the back of your neck, should have chilled the marrow in your bones and set your nerves ablaze. But it… You took another deep, steady breath and blinked down at where his mouth was sealed to your arm. It almost feels...good. Your eyes traveled to where his fingers were fanned out atop your thigh, and you sighed as your own hand spread wider over the smooth, bare plane of his back. Letting yourself ease forward until you were close enough to lean into him, you rested your forehead on the curve of his shoulder, turning your face toward his neck and taking another deep breath.

But just a few seconds after you’d relaxed against him, you felt him release your arm, his tongue sweeping over the area in one slow stroke. The feeling of it roused you from the trancelike state of comfort you’d fallen into, eyes fluttering open despite having no memory of them closing. Did… is he… He sat up then, your slightly fuzzy vision focusing just enough to see him wipe his thumb over his full bottom lip. Hands immediately going to your shoulder and the side of your face, he spoke your name, concern swirling in his deep eyes as he repeated it a second time.

You hummed, realizing that he was waiting for you to respond. Say something. “Did…” Your chest caved slightly as you let out a ragged exhale. “Did it work? Are you…” Licking your lips, you paused to try to gain control of your anxious breathing. Get it together. You have to get yourself together. It was all you’d been trying to do since you left the alley. “Do you feel better?” You have to feel better, because I don’t know what else to do.

He sighed, the fingers of the hand he had on your cheek flexing around the back of your head. “Yes,” he breathed out the single word and then his lips were on yours, the kiss soft but urgent in how quickly he left it there. “Yes,” he said again as he nodded, pulling away to look at you more clearly. “I feel… stronger.” Your eyes, finally starting to come into clear focus, flicked down to the wound on his abdomen, and what you saw flooded you with the same relief it seemed he was feeling. No more dark lines. You tentatively reached out with trembling fingers to touch the skin there, but he caught your hand before you made contact, calling your attention back up to his face as he repeated your name again. “Thank you.”

You smiled, noting how even the small movement of your cheek muscles screamed your exhaustion at you, but you ignored it. “Of course,” you replied. “You were… you needed help, so I…” You shrugged. “I’m just…” Taking a deep breath, you fought through a lump of emotion rising in your throat. “I’m glad you’re okay, Os-”

Oscar? You pressed your lips firmly together. That’s not his real name. It’s… You knew it. You’d seen the recognition in his eyes when you’d said it before. But he… he can’t …

“Oberyn.” He confirmed, his accent curling around the syllables as he looked into your eyes without blinking. “Please… call me Oberyn.” You nodded, heart flipping in your chest. Okay. “I apologize for not being truthful with you when we met.” Stroking his fingers over the back of your neck, his eyebrows came together, a crease cutting between them. “It was for your safety.” Sighing again, you saw what looked like genuine contrition in his eyes. “Although you ended up in danger anyway.”

“It’s… it’s okay, I… you saved me, too, in that alley, so -” Suddenly you felt lightheaded and warm, your throat dry and your fingers numb. “So I…”

“You need to get off the floor.” He interrupted, cutting you off. “Come here, let me…” He moved into a kneeling position, one hand cupping each of your elbows. “Hold onto my arms.”

Planting one foot on the floor, you did as he told you and, with his help, rose slowly. You felt his right hand leaving your elbow and landing at your waist, but despite the strength and stability he was trying to provide, you also felt the room spin. Oh, shit.

“I’ve got you,” he assured you, arm circling around your waist to catch you before your shaking legs could take you back down onto the carpet. “Come on, let’s… let me get you something to drink. You are feeling dizzy, yes?”

“Mmm.” You clutched onto him, waiting for the walls to stop moving. I’ve never felt like this before. “Yeah… I’ll be okay, I just… didn’t eat anything at the party and then…”

He half-carried you to the couch, easing you into a seated position. “You will be okay,” he told you. “I’m going to make sure of it.” He gave your fingers a gentle squeeze, then stood, removing his hands from your body, though he did it slowly. Or am I imagining that? “Give me a minute, I’ll be right back.”

You watched Oberyn walk into the small kitchen and heard the refrigerator door open, followed by the sound of liquid being poured from a pitcher or bottle. Feeling a little less lightheaded than you had while sitting on the ground, you cleared your throat as he returned through the doorway holding a glass filled with a bright orange beverage. “What’s that? Some kind of elixir or something?” It was meant to be a joke, but you were mildly aware that anything was possible.

He laughed, the sound warm and welcome after the way the last half hour had gone. “No. It’s electrolytes.” He handed you the glass, waiting until your fingers were firmly wrapped around it, his pinky sliding along yours before he let go. “And sugar. Exactly what you need right now.”

You chuckled, taking it from him. “That was my next guess.” Bringing it to your lips, you took a short sip of the cold drink, the flavor vaguely citrusy but definitely sweet. As soon as you swallowed, you felt it helping to relieve your dizziness. Taking another, longer drink, you lowered the glass toward your lap. “Thank you, this is helping.”

“Good.” He watched you take another drink. “There is not much food stocked in the kitchen,” he gestured towards the other room. “But you are welcome to any of it. Whatever you need while you’re here.”

How long will that be? Where are we? Who lives here? Questions swirled in your head faster than you could comprehend them as you carefully leaned forward to place your drink on the coffee table in front of you. But before you could get to any of them, Oberyn’s expression turned serious again and he moved closer to you.

“Your arm.” His eyes darkened the same way they had when he’d noticed the torn straps of your costume, their focus slipping from your face down your body as he assessed you. “You’re hurt.” The frown’s back, too.

What? You blinked, confused, right hand reaching across your lap to encircle your left forearm. Of course there’s… Pressing down with your thumb over the place where he’d punctured your skin, you felt a quick rush, a ghost of the sensation of his teeth scraping over your veins seemingly etched into your flesh. Swallowing, you moved your thumb. Of course there’s a…he just -

But all you saw when you looked down was the unblemished skin of your inner arm, the crook of your elbow and the area around it completely unscathed. What? How is that possible?

“No.” He moved to your right side, carefully placing his hands on your wrist and shoulder. “I meant this one. Where the Mountain -“ His eyes widened, a flash like lightning striking through them as he eased your grip away from where you held your elbow. You followed his gaze to your right bicep, jaw dropping open as you gasped at the souvenir that Gregor had given you. “Where he grabbed you.”

Although you recalled feeling a twinge of pain when you raised your arm over your head to change out of your costume, you hadn’t looked yourself over closely enough to notice the damage that the hulking brute’s grasp had actually done. Oh. Damn, that’s… It had already begun to swell, and there were several scratches, cuts, and rough abrasions where the man’s thick gloves and gauntlets had pinched and rubbed your skin raw. That’s really bad.

Oberyn gently turned your wrist to expose the underside of your injured arm. The second that he did his eyes fell closed, creases forming around them as he squeezed them tight. Exhaling through his nose, he muttered something under his breath in a language you didn’t quite understand. Is that… Valyrian? Realizing that it was not the time to play linguist, you finally looked down at what had caused his additional reaction. Oh. The longest of the scratches was also the deepest, arched along the hem of your t-shirt sleeve, the light material stained crimson where it pressed against the small wound. “You are bleeding.” More blood? Is he going to… will that make him…

“Shit,” you whispered. “I didn’t even…” His fingers trailed down from the top of your shoulder to your upper arm, your sentence trailing off with the extended contact. I didn’t feel it until… But even your thoughts fell apart as he flipped his hand to let the backs of his knuckles skate over your broken skin, the softness in his touch almost more shocking than anything else you’d experienced that night when compared to everything you had seen and felt. What a night.

“I should have checked.” He turned his hand again, laying his palm there, and for the first time you realized that the limb beneath it felt hot - another sign of injury that had been lost in the flood of adrenaline through your body. “I should have -” He sighed and shook his head, the hand he had been holding your wrist with dropping to his lap. “I should not have taken your offer without making sure that you were alright first.” Oberyn’s expression changed again, eyes narrowing and mouth forming a tight line. “I could have -”

“It…it’s not that bad.” You tried to cut him off, your own head moving quickly from side to side. But you heard how unconvincing you sounded, and you couldn’t help the way that your nose wrinkled at the jolt of discomfort that came with your small attempt at a shrug. I shouldn’t lie to him. But he needed…

“I could have killed you.” He finished what he’d started to say, eyes locking solidly on yours and tone hardening slightly despite the delicate way he was still touching you. You got the impression that he was trying to drive the severity of that fact home not just for you but for himself, too. “If you had…” He took a deep breath, the pendant around his neck catching the light as it rose and fell with his chest, but you looked back up at him as he began to speak again. “If this was worse,” he continued, forehead furrowed as he watched the movement of his fingertips where they traced the edge of the shallow slice along your inner bicep. “If it was any deeper or you had lost more blood and then I…” A sudden chill crackled up your back and through your bones as you considered his words. “It could have been too much, made you too weak and…”

You didn’t need him to finish to know where he was going. I would have died. That’s what he’s saying. And he… Sucking a breath in through your teeth, you closed your eyes and let the air back out slowly. Swallowing the tightness that gathered in your throat, you forced down the fear that had surged to the surface. But I didn’t. I’m fine… and so is he.

“You would have stopped, Oberyn.” Your eyes opened as you spoke his name, using it again for the first time since he confirmed that that’s what you should call him. It had the intended effect, his eyes lightening as he fell silent. Reaching for the hand he had let fall, you mirrored the gentle way that he had encircled your wrist, wrapping your fingers loosely around it. “You would be able to… to tell that I was -” Dying.

“Yes.” He answered quickly, saving you from saying the word out loud. Did he not want to hear me say it? “I would have…” He paused, lips pursed as he thought for a moment about how best to explain. “I would feel it. Taste it, almost.” You felt your eyes widen slightly as you tried to comprehend the idea that he could taste impending death in the blood of those he fed on, but you maintained your hold on his wrist, squeezing with light pressure to illustrate that you hadn’t pulled away - and you wouldn’t. “Your pulse would be slower and…” He closed his eyes again briefly, nodding once before opening them. “I would know.”

“Then,” your tongue flicked out to wet your lips, your head tilting to the left, chin dropping so that you were looking at the place he had selected in lieu of your throat. “You would have stopped in time. Besides,” Picking your head back up, you were unsurprised to find his eyes already waiting to meet yours. “You promised me twice tonight that you wouldn’t hurt me.” Casting aside the dull ache that was throbbing deep in the muscle of your bicep and trying to ignore the high pitched sting of the cuts and scrapes, you gave him a small - thought you were sure must have been haggard - smile. “And I believe you.”

For a second it seemed like he wasn’t going to let it go, conflict swirling in his eyes. Then his features relaxed, the man’s lips twitching in a near-smile, too. “I am very glad that you do.” He glanced down at where your fingers had curled into the center of his palm and spoke your name. “Do you think you can stand? There are first aid supplies in the other room and I would like to take care of this.” He rubbed his thumb through the thin streak of blood that had beaded in the ridge of your cut. “I can help you walk of course, but if you’re still lightheaded I can bring everything out here.”

“No, I think I’m okay.” Relatively, anyway. You hummed out a small laugh, trying to further lighten his mood. “This Powerade or whatever it was that you gave me,” you gestured to the almost empty container of orange liquid on the glass coffee table, “did the trick, I think.”

“Good.” He sounded genuinely relieved to hear you say that you were feeling less dizzy, some of the concern that was weighing his shoulders down visibly lifting as he stood.

For a second you were at eye level with his abdomen, and you took the chance to glance at his wound. It looks… so much better. Again you were shocked by his ability to heal, but this time it had gone even further. The dark, venomous lines that had been stretching out from the incision had retreated, fading so that you could hardly make them out at all, even up close. That’s got to be a good sign. You let relief in with a sigh of your own, and then his hand was in front of you, waiting for you to take it. You did, looking up at him as his fingers closed around your knuckles, and then you let him help you to your feet again.

“Go slow,” he murmured as you reacted to the change in elevation and the slight unsteadiness that it brought on. Reaching for him with your other hand, you grabbed onto his forearm as his hand went to your waist. “Easy,” he urged, letting go of you. “Lean into me, we’ll go as slow as you need to.”

Oberyn’s arm wrapped around your back, securely hooking your opposite hip with his palm to keep you close. After a few seconds, he started heading towards the bedroom that he’d gone into when you’d first arrived at the apartment. “You know,” you threaded your arm under his and around him, soaking in the warmth from his body through your clothes and against your bare skin. “Usually when a man wants to get me to bed, he -”

The man let out a breathy laugh that made you feel light and woozy all over again. “Believe me, this is not at all how I take a woman into my bed.” As the two of you paused in front of the door to the room, he turned his face and tilted his chin down to make eye contact. “And once we are both safe and rested,” he gripped the knob with his free hand, gently tightening the fingers he had around your hip so that your shirt bunched between them. “I will prove it to you.” Oh, shit, I bet you will.

With a small grin at the way he’d easily topped your playful flirtation, he turned the handle and pushed the door open, continuing through but not bothering to close it behind you. The room was just as common and characterless as the rest of the place, decorated in neutral tones and with impersonal objects.

It was a little larger than the second bedroom, and you noticed that it had its own bathroom, but it was otherwise unremarkable. It looks like it was the model unit. Like it’s all just… here for show. Even the bedspread appeared untouched and unwrinkled, as though no one had even thought about sleeping in it for months. Does he even need to sleep? Can he?

Every second you spent with him only brought on more questions that you filed away to ask once he was satisfied that he’d taken care of your cut. And that I’m not going to keel over. His arm stayed firmly around you until you reached the bed. Even though I’m… I probably could have made it in here on my own. Helping you lower yourself onto the edge of the mattress, he let his hand slide from your back to your thigh.

“Wait right here,” he instructed, putting some of his weight over the hand on your leg as he leaned close enough to kiss you. He stopped though, and you felt his eyes rake over your face as you nodded. They flicked down to your mouth and then back up, the small action sending a flood of heat through your chest as you slowly nodded again.

That time he did close the distance, lips brushing yours briefly but intentionally before he straightened up, a slight smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth even if he still seemed on edge and upset with himself for not being more cautious with you. Fuck, he’s… a problem.

Your own cheeks lifted in a flustered smile as he turned for the bathroom, and you decided to give in to the trouble he was causing. “I saw that grin, Oberyn.” You heard him chuckle as he turned the water on to wash his hands, the tap turning off again when he was through. “What’s funny, hmm?”

“Nothing,” he insisted as he opened the medicine cabinet, pulling a few items from it, but you could still hear the amusement in his voice. “Nothing is funny, it’s…” The hinges creaked as he closed the cabinet, and then he appeared in the doorway carrying the things he gathered. “It is a good thing. Something that I am… happy about.” He set a bottle of peroxide and a tube of antiseptic cream on the bed along with a roll of tape and one of the wrapped bandages, fingers deftly working to open the one he still held.

The rush of heat that hadn’t yet cooled bubbled back up as you watched him peel the packaging open, fingers moving deftly though he was focused on you. “Well… what is it?”

Oberyn reached for the peroxide, but you grabbed it first, holding it out for him and tilting your head to punctuate your question. His grin grew, and for half a second you saw a flash of mischief in his eyes like you’d seen earlier at the party. He closed his hand around the bottle, waiting to take it from you until he answered. “Your heart rate,” he replied, pulling the bottle from your hand. My…heart rate? What does th- He chuckled again as he started to unscrew the cap. “I told you before that I would be able to feel it if your pulse became too slow,” he explained at the confused look you gave him. Turning the bottle over to wet the first of the gauze strips he’d opened, he went on. “I could feel it when I kissed you just now, too.” Oh. You sucked in a breath as he set the bottle down on the dresser behind him. Oh, then he - “I’m smiling because I know I don’t have to worry about your heart rate being too slow right now.”

“That’s not fair,” you groaned and he let out a full laugh at the sound of it. It isn’t.

“Maybe not,” he answered, making a loose grip on your right forearm and turning it towards himself. He let the laugh leave his voice before locking his eyes on yours, narrowing them for emphasis. “Regardless, I am very happy that you are alright.”

You recalled the look in his eyes when Gregor refused to let you leave the alley, the shock in them when he registered the contaminant in the Mountain’s blood, the anguish when the giant man’s sword was thrust through his stomach. I thought we were both… You let the thought trail off with a shudder. “Yeah,” you swallowed to clear the sudden thickness that had set in. “I’m glad that you are, too, Oberyn.”

He sighed. “I would not be, if you hadn’t -” Wincing, he used one hand to push the sleeve of your shirt further up your arm. “If you had not done what you did for me then I would be dead.” No. Though you had only spent a handful of hours with the man since you’d met him, the thought of him meeting his end in that alley at the hands of that monster was one that you couldn’t stomach. He swiped his thumb over the skin he’d just exposed, then glanced back up at you and raised the cloth he’d dampened. “This is going to sting.”

“Alright.” You said it quietly but you knew that he heard. Closing your eyes, you inhaled quickly through your nose as he lightly pressed the gauzy cloth to the cuts on your arm. Ow. It did sting, the astringent doing its job to clean your wounds, leaving a sharp burning sensation in its wake. That hurts more than when he - Your eyes opened as the stinging sensation subsided, the burn replaced by the soft skin of his plush lips. You looked down in time to watch him drag them towards the crook of your elbow, the sight stealing the breath from your lungs and muting the thought you hadn’t finished. That doesn’t hurt at all.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke against your skin, his warm breath soothing the medicinal bite of the peroxide before leaving another small kiss there. Eyes first, he raised himself from your arm and discarded the cloth he’d just used, reaching for the tube of antibacterial cream. “I know it is unpleasant, but it -”

“It had to be done,” you said, more breathlessly than you would have liked. He nodded, twisting the cap off and squeezing a small amount of the clear gel-like substance onto the pad of his pointer finger. It felt cool as he spread it over your inflamed skin, and you let out a contented sigh as he leaned in, again brushing his lips over the area just above the cuts and scrapes. “And,” you waited until he sat up again, “you make it all a little less unpleasant, Oberyn.” A lot less, actually.

His eyes flashed as he smiled, and then he shook his head and closed the tube, tossing it back onto the bed. “Are you saying that I have a good bedside manner?” One eyebrow arched, he looked at you as he tore the paper wrapping off of the second bandage.

You hummed. “Something like that.”

He unfolded the bandage, doubling it over and refolding it to the correct size and thickness before wrapping it carefully around your arm. “Unfortunately,” he smoothed the white cloth against your skin and pulled it taut but not too tight. “Or perhaps fortunately for you,” he winked, “this is not the first time I have treated injuries like this.” Holding the end of the gauze in place with his thumb, he picked up the last item he’d taken from the medicine cabinet - a roll of tape. “So I have some experience.”

“Lucky me,” you answered, trying for a teasing tone.

Before the words were out of your mouth, Oberyn had the end of the tape in his, clenching it between his teeth. Oh, shit. He pulled the roll downard and tore off a length in one fluid motion, eyes on you the entire time. Removing it from his mouth, he brought it down to replace his thumb with the adhesive strip. “How does that feel?” He asked the question as he ripped off another piece, this time with his hands, applying it to provide more stability to the covering.

“It’s,” your tongue slipped out to wet your lips as he ran his fingers over the tape again, ensuring that it was in place. “It feels fine… better.” It really wasn’t that bad. “Thank you.” You smiled at him as his hands fell away from you. “I…” But as you took a breath, you realized that you had no idea what you were about to say. Or rather, that you had so much to say, so many questions to ask, that you didn’t know where to start. Exhaling shakily, you brought your left hand up to the bandage he’d applied, pressing gently on it to gauge what kind of pain you might be in the following morning. It throbbed dully beneath your fingers while the area he had punctured with his teeth and drank from felt like nothing had happened. How? “Oberyn, I-”

“I know you must have a lot of questions.” He stood from the bed, placing one hand on your thigh like he’d done when you first sat down.

Yeah, that’s… an understatement. You had bookmarked a list of important questions in your brain throughout the night, each one of them coming with dozens of possible follow ups. How did the Prince of Dorne become one of the Others? How are you able to heal so quickly? If Gregor isn’t dead, what happens now? Why is there no mark from where you -

“I will answer all of them, I promise you.” He straightened up and grabbed the wrappings from the gauze as well as the tape and other items, returning them to the bathroom and tossing the paper in the trash can. Stopping at the dresser, he pulled open the top drawer and took out a fresh t-shirt. Oh, right. You glanced down at your bloodstained sleeve. When you looked up again the man was holding the dark fabric out for you to take. “But first,” he sighed, turning back to the dresser and the still open drawer. “If there is anyone who will be… looking for you tonight?” He turned around again holding a phone. “You should let them know that you are somewhere safe.”

Your eyes widened as you remembered your promise to Nora earlier in the night, telling your friend that you would give her a call to let her know that you were home safely. “My friend. She’s…” You reached up and took the phone from him, cursing to yourself as you saw the time. “She’s probably left me like six messages by now and she’s definitely the type to worry if I don’t check in so -”

“So call her.” He nodded. “Let her know that you’re alright. But,” he stepped closer and spoke your name, pulling your attention from the device in your hand back to his face, his expression one of concern. “Be careful with what you tell her. She… she can’t know about -”

She can’t know what’s actually happening. “I understand.” You got the feeling that he didn’t like asking you to lie, but you knew it was a matter of safety and the last thing you wanted was for Nora to somehow get tangled up in what you were currently in the middle of. “I’ll… I’ll tell her that I met someone at the party and that my phone died.”

“Good.” He nodded. “I’ll wait out in the living room. You can come join me when you’re done and then I will answer whatever I can for you.”

You told him that you wouldn’t be long, and then he was gone, the door closing with a click to leave you alone in the room. Letting out a slow breath, you set the phone down on the bed and grabbed the bottom hem of your shirt. One thing at a time, I guess. Yanking it up over your head and carefully pulling your arms free of the sleeves, you switched it out for the clean one, easing it on gently over the bandage.

After a quick glance you didn’t see a laundry basket or hamper, so you crossed to the bathroom and dropped the shirt on the floor. There were already a few towels there, and as you blinked at them you noticed that they were also stained red in places, some of the spots much darker than others. He must have used those to… clean himself up. Unwilling to dwell on how gruesome his wound had been or how much blood he’d actually lost, you turned off the light and shut the bathroom door. He’s going to be fine.

“Okay,” you stared at the phone where it lay on the now wrinkled bedspread. “I can do this.” Thankful that you had her number memorized, you moved to the bed and called Nora. As it rang a third time, you found yourself just as thankful when you got the woman’s answering machine instead of having to answer her questions when you didn’t have answers yourself. It’s past one, I’m sure she’s asleep. Releasing a steadying breath as the machine beeped, you launched into a quick explanation before you lost your nerve. Telling her exactly what you told Oberyn that you planned to, you added that you might be staying out for more than just the one night. “Life’s short, right?” You shrugged at yourself in the mirror as you told her again that you’d let her know when you were home, and then you ended the message.

One thing at a time. The thought repeated as you headed for the door, wondering how you were going to manage to keep the questions from tumbling out on top of one another. You yawned as your fingers closed around the door handle, the exhaustion quickly catching up with you and making it even more difficult for you to keep your thoughts in order. But I can’t sleep yet. I need to… Shaking your head, you turned the knob to open the door and stepped into the hall. I need some answers at least.

You knew there was no way you were going to get them all before you fell asleep. No matter how curious and invested you were, you were also more tired than you’d been in a long time. The adrenaline that started coursing through your blood the second Gregor grabbed you had drained completely. Its absence left your limbs feeling heavy, and combined with the slight fuzziness tickling your brain from the blood loss, you were hanging on to the waking world by a thread. I probably have… an hour, tops. Hiding another yawn with your fist, you stepped into the living room. Gotta make it count.

“That was quick.” He spoke before your hand had dropped back to your side, your eyes following the sound to where he sat on the couch. “Did you talk to your friend?”

“I left her a message.” You sighed and held up the phone he’d given you as you made your way closer to him. “She’s probably asleep.” He nodded. “But I know if she woke up and saw that I didn’t call or text her she’d be nervous.” Handing the device back to him, you sunk into the couch cushion beside him. “So it’s better that I left a message because then I don’t have to -”

Though you knew that he was still listening because he hadn’t taken his deep brown eyes off of you, you were startled by the loud crack as he snapped the phone you’d just used in two. Oh…alright.

“Sorry.” He tossed both pieces of the broken phone onto the coffee table where they clattered and skittered towards the center of the surface. “I had to be sure that we could not be tracked.” He gestured to the table with one hand, eyes still on your face.

“No that’s… that makes sense I…” Does it? What about any of this makes sense? You were shaking your head, but just like before, you already lost track of what you wanted to say. Would it be this way if I were clear headed? Or is this just … just because of everything that happened tonight?

He spoke your name and shifted, angling himself so that he could reach for your hand. You felt the cool metal of the ring around his thumb as it pressed into your skin. The sensation grounded you, reminding you that this was real, that it wasn’t a dream or hallucination. I’m really sitting here with him. And… all of that really happened. “Ask me.” He squeezed your hand, waiting for your eyes to focus again, and then let it go. “Ask me whatever is on your mind. You will get the truth from me, I promise.”

You wet your lips with the tip of your tongue and took a breath before nodding. “Okay.” Swallowing your uncertainty, you took the opening he gave you and dove in. “Are you… Are you really Oberyn Martell? That wasn’t a costume?”

“I am.” He answered simply, leaning his side into the cushions of the backrest and laying one arm over the top of it. “And, no, it wasn’t.” Narrowing his eyes and tilting his head, he watched as you pulled your legs up onto the couch and leaned into the pillows as he had done. “But you knew that already.”

“I…” You let out an incredulous breath, closing your eyes briefly. They opened again as you spoke. “Yeah, I… guess I did. It’s just that…” It’s just that Oberyn Martell died thousands of years ago. But I can’t say that. He’s not… he’s right here. Brow wrinkling as you worked to reword your thoughts, you glanced down at the pendant he wore around his neck, something clicking that hadn’t previously fallen into place in your brain. That’s one of the artifacts that Golden Lion wanted information on. You lifted your eyes back to his face. But I couldn’t find anything on it after - “There are documents… records that say that you -”

“That I died? Or that I disappeared? Sailed East and never returned?” He moved his wrist in a circular motion as he listed the various theories you’d read and studied not just on your most recent assignment, but in several of your college and graduate level classes on ancient Westerosi history as well. Amusement flickering in his pupils, he listed another that you hadn’t come across in your research, but one that fit with some of the characteristics of the Dornish Prince that you had read about. “That I ran off with a southern Lord and his mistress?”

Blinking at the man, you felt heat rise in your cheeks. “Not… that last one.” You saw his lips twitch beneath his mustache. “But the rest of them, yes. The main theory that most scholars believe is that you were betrayed. You and your sister.” As the words fell off your tongue you realized how strange it was to recount ancient history to one of its participants. But it's… I have to tell him what I know. “They say there’s evidence that points to a mysterious woman? Ellaria Sand? That you -”

“Ellaria Sand did not murder anyone.” He spoke with a tone of finality that wasn't anger, but it told you right away that he wouldn’t entertain that notion any further. He didn’t stiffen or change positions though, still casual in the way that he leaned into the couch. “And she has never betrayed me.”

You felt your eyes widen as you picked up on what he said. Has. Has never. “She -” Oh, shit, she… “Then is she the one who… she’s one of the Others and…” You felt your chest heave with a breath as you got ready to say what you’d already known for hours out loud. “And so are you. She changed you.”

He waited a beat, watching you as you tried to remain calm. “She saved me,” he said finally, his voice taking on a softness that you hadn’t yet heard in it. Realizing that he hadn’t exactly answered you, he nodded. “Yes. She was… she offered this chance, this life to me, and I accepted it.”

You wanted to ask why and how and if it hurt when it happened, but something made you wait. That’s not important right now, stick to what happened tonight. “And,” you licked at your lips. “That man, Gregor?” He nodded, eyes flashing with what you assumed was rage. “This wasn’t the first time you… fought him, was it?”

“It was not.” His upper lip curled in a show of hateful disgust. “I had hoped it would be the last, but I was not expecting -” he let out a frustrated huff. Poison. You weren’t expecting to be poisoned. “The next time I see him will be his last day in this world, I swear it.”

Next time. You winced as you thought of the two men engaging in combat again, and then you remembered something he had said to his large opponent that made you suck in a breath. Confess. He had wanted Gregor to admit to something that he did. That means it's personal. It’s…

You had read accounts of the fall of House Martell, the ruling family in the ancient kingdom of Dorne. While most of them only speculated on what had happened to the youngest Prince, Doran’s death had been explained by his well-documented illness, and Elia’s was as well-known as any of the historic bloodbaths from that era. But they never found out who killed her. Which means…

Oh, fuck. The realization spread through you and chilled your body as though you’d been frozen. It was Gregor. That’s why he wants him dead. You watched how difficult it was for Oberyn to keep the hatred at bay, and decided that that topic, too, could be revisited later.

“Oberyn?” You reached over the top of the couch where his arm was resting, laying your palm over it. At your touch, you saw the anger fade from his face, his chest swelling as he inhaled deeply. “Earlier, when you noticed my arm? You said… something.” He blinked, nodding. “Something I didn’t -” You wrinkled your nose. “I think it was Valyrian? I’ve only ever seen it written, I haven’t heard it spoken, but -” He nodded again. “What did you say?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed, never taking his eyes from yours. “Ñuhor līr gūrēnna.” He repeated the same phrase you’d only caught him mumble before, this time loud and clear enough for you to hear the way it rolled from his tongue. Before you could ask for a translation, he was giving you one, switching the position of your arms on the back of the couch so that it was his atop yours. “I will take what is mine.” Though he closed his hand around your forearm as he said it, it didn’t feel possessive. Not exactly. He released his grip, fingers trailing over your arm as he let his hand fall away. “I do not like to see others taking what is meant for me…” His eyes fell to your bandaged arm. “So I will take my revenge on those who do not understand that.”

It was another promise, not just to you but to himself, one that he made with conviction. You felt it hang in the air between you, and though his confidence was almost tangible, you’d seen him nearly lose his life twice in one night. The thought of him taking another chance at the monstrous man any time soon wasn’t one that you were happy to think about. “So -” Despite your need to know more, a yawn interrupted your words, forcing you to fight through it if you wanted to get the rest of your question out. “So what happens next, Oberyn? How do we -” but another one broke through, taking the rest of your question with it.

“What happens next, I think,” he dropped his chin and lowered his eyes to meet yours as you covered your mouth, “is that we get some rest. We both need it.” You dropped your hand as the yawn ended, but he didn’t let it fall to your lap, lacing his fingers through yours instead. “And then tomorrow morning we can talk about what happens after that.”

You knew that you were half a blink away from slipping into sleep right there on the couch, so you let out a slow breath and nodded, letting him help you to your feet by your joined hands. “Alright.” Keeping his palm pressed against yours, he walked you to the door to the second bedroom, stopping in front of it. “Goodnight, Oberyn,” you mumbled, looking up at him from under your heavy eyelids.

Without warning, he dipped his head to catch your lips in a kiss, pulling you close to his body as he deepened it more than he had so far. You couldn’t help the small sigh that you released as he parted your lips with his, and in turn you felt him smile against your mouth. “Goodnight,” he said it before pulling away, the words vibrating against your just-kissed flesh. “Sleep well.”

As suddenly as he’d kissed you, Oberyn let you go, turning for the other door and disappearing behind it moments later.

Want to be tagged? Links in our bios to Google Forms, or you can send a message/leave a comment!

All Pedro:

@raspberrymama @jupiters--moonxx @pretty-brown-eyess @spideysimpossiblegirl @csigeoblue @bport76 @mysteriouslyfuzzypeach @littlemisspascal @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @nicolethered @ezras-channel-rat @quica-quica-quica @moparmama927 @amneris21 @hocuschlocus @withakindheartx @practicalghost @supersingle @paracosmenthusiast @cannedsoupsucks @alraedesigns @pheedraws @missminkylove @hotchlover @phandoz @justanotherblonde23 @scorpiowidow @my-tin-can-mans @chronic-nosebleed @marydjarin @stevie75 @the-rambling-nerd @iamskyereads @lowlights @seasonschange-butpeopledont @stardustsophia @dihra-vesa @disgruntledspacedad @mishasminion360 @pedrostories

Oberyn:

@valkblue @beefcakebarnes @g0ldenlush @thisgirl-knm @writeforfandoms @fific7 @revolution-starter @thepoisonofgod @wildmoonflower

92 notes · View notes

the-blind-assassin-12 · 3 years

Text

Aphelion - Part 3

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

Word Count: 8,554

A/N: Happy Saturday, everyone! @something-tofightfor & I just wanted to quickly thank you all for your support and comments on this story. We’re both super excited to share this part with you -- so we hope you continue to enjoy where this story is headed! If you need to catch up on this story before diving in, the Aphelion Masterlist can be found here.

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

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

Warnings: violence, weapons, blood, serious injury, discussion of death

Summary: The confrontation you’d become caught in the middle of quickly escalates- and you quickly realize that things are not at all what they seem; and that they are about to get far more serious and sinister than you ever imagined possible... if you can escape the alley with your life and get to safety, that is.

(banner made by @valkblue; divider by @firefly-graphics)

In a movement so smooth it shouldn’t have been possible, Oscar came to a halt only a few feet away from where the large man - Gregor? - stopped, feet spread apart and hands hanging at his sides, shoulders thrown back. They should have crashed into each other. They were both moving like …

“I thought that I would find you here.” Oscar’s voice was low, the words carefully measured, but you heard the venom in them nonetheless. “This city… these people… crawling all over each other the same way they -” As he spoke, you managed to take a step backwards, trying to remain as quiet as possible. Get to the wall. Get your phone out. Get -

“Oberyn Martell.” The monstrous man repeated the name again, squaring his shoulders, and for the first time since he’d let you go, you looked at him, eyes moving over his body. He’s not a man, he’s a … a giant. What he wore made him appear even larger, if that was possible; intricate armor that would have fit right in at the party you’d just left. But maybe he’s… maybe this is all … “Where have you been? We’ve been looking for you.” We?

You felt the brick wall at your back, your palms making contact with the uneven surface, and you breathed out a quiet sigh of relief at the grit of it. Though he didn’t turn his head, you thought you saw Oscar’s eyes dart over toward you briefly before focusing back on the man in front of him, almost as though he wasn’t sure which he should pay more attention to. Him. You glanced over at the larger man again. He’s as big as a … Your eyes widened at the realization, the hours of time you’d spent poring over text in print and on a screen providing you with an answer. A mountain. The Mountain that Rides, Gregor… Gregor Clegane. You knew him to be a protector of the Lannisters - specifically the queen reagent Cersei - and a sworn enemy of the Martells. Because Gregor Clegane killed …

You were impressed with how in-character the men remained in the alleyway, the animosity between the two of them nearly palpable in the slight chill of the night air, but you were still confused. If this is all for show, why … why did he grab me? Your bicep still throbbed where his meaty fingers had made a tight grip. Why did he … what did he want?

Before you could work out a reason though, your thoughts were broken up by the scuffle of bootsoles on the gravelly ground. Are they going to… You felt your heartbeat quicken as your palms began to itch. They’re going to fight. They’d begun to circle each other slowly, but Oscar had yet to reply to the other man’s question, instead holding one hand above the pommel of his weapon, elbow bent and fingers spread wide. Maybe this is just a part of the party. Swallowing, you tried desperately to make sense of it. The Lannisters are …

“A serpent always knows the correct time to strike, Gregor Clegane.” You heard it again in Oscar’s voice; the accent that had come through before, even thicker in the darkness of the alley’s shadows, and you blinked slowly at the sound of it. That’s his real voice, that’s… “I have been waiting, you see. Waiting for -” “For what?” The large man laughed, though he didn’t take his soulless eyes off of Oscar. “Waiting for what?” You saw the amused look on Gregor’s face, his fingers flexing by his sides, and for the first time, you saw the longsword he had strapped to his belt - still tucked safely away. Oscar stepped to the left, one foot crossing in front of the other, and though you were unable to see the man’s face, you realized with a quiet exhale what he’d done. He put himself between us. He’s … Oscar’s broad back was almost directly in front of you. He’s protecting me. As soon as you realized it, you decided to use it to your advantage, slowly reaching for your back pocket and your phone - which wasn’t there. Oh, shit. Oh, where … With another shudder, you realized that you’d had it in your hand when Gregor grabbed you, and the sudden movement had made you drop it - likely closer to the mouth of the alley… and completely out of reach. That’s not good. “Are you going to answer me, Prince?”

“Confess.” It was only one word, but Oscar nearly hissed it between his teeth- and your eyes were drawn to the flex of his fingers, much closer to his weapon than they had been. “Confess, Ser Gregor, and give me -” “I confess to nothing!” The larger man lunged and Oscar spun out of the way, the hand that wasn’t near his hip reaching out and grasping one of the armored faulds at the other man’s waist. With a quick tug, he redirected the brute’s trajectory to send him stumbling clumsily in a different direction. How did he… Before you could finish the thought, Oscar was upright once more, though he wasn’t between you and the other man anymore. Instead, the two were facing each other, Oscar’s back to the alley opening and the dagger held in his right hand, the tip glinting as he moved. Gregor unsheathed his weapon, too, using his left hand to grasp it, the point barely a few inches from the ground. That looks real. That looks … not like a prop. You didn’t want to draw attention to yourself, but you lifted a hand to your mouth, covering it to stifle the whimper that threatened to escape. We need to get back to the street, we need to … Oscar is almost a foot shorter and at least 150 pounds lighter, it … it’s not a fair fight, it…

“Permit me to make this a fair fight?” Oscar lifted his free hand, holding his palm out. The other man stopped moving, and you watched his beady eyes narrow. “Not that you or Tywin fucking Lannister knows what fair means, of course, but…” He gestured with that same hand at his body. “It has been so long since I’ve -” Tywin? That’s thousands of years ago, what is… “Take the dress off then.” The large man scoffed, twisting his wrist to turn the blade he held in a slow circle. “Give me an easier target.” What are you doing, Oscar? What - But you watched, hand still clamped over your mouth as Oscar untied the belt at his waist, tossing it to the side - in the opposite direction from where you stood, the sides of his robe falling open to expose the skin of his chest. An easier target. Are they really going to -

“You could remove your armor, too, Ser Gregor.” Oscar spat the words out, shifting his feet. “Certainly you do not need all of that protection against me.” You could see it already - Gregor was much slower than Oscar, heavier on his feet, and even though it seemed that they were unmatched physically, something about Oscar’s confidence gave you hope that you’d be able to get out of the alley with your life. And his, too. We just need… “Alright then. Have it your way.” Oscar shrugged one shoulder of the robe off, switching the weapon to that hand before repeating the same action with the other one, throwing the heavy material so that it landed in a heap atop his belt. It left him wearing only a pair of high boots and pants that looked to be made of a similar material as the leggings you wore - along with the pendant around his neck, the heavy gold piece glittering against his skin. It’s going to get dirty. That’s a shame. It was so - “I have a request before we begin.”

“What?” Gregor snarled the word, feigning motion toward Oscar. You sucked in an involuntary breath at the threatening movement but the smaller man didn’t flinch. How is he… it has to be a …

“Let the woman leave. This is between us. She is not involved - just had the misfortune of meeting me tonight.”Tonight? That’s not true, why would he… it doesn’t matter. I’m not going anywhere. Even as you had the thought, you realized that if he agreed, you could grab your phone on your way out of the alley - and start screaming for help as soon as you emerged onto the sidewalk. But if he wants me to leave, then that means that this isn’t for me to see, so it… “It has nothing to do with her, just like it had nothing to do with -”

“No.” It was final, and for one fleeting second, you thought that maybe it was part of the act, but when you met Gregor’s eyes, you saw nothing in them apart from hatred. Oh, fuck. “She stays.” Instead of slumping against the wall like you wanted to, you took a deep breath and lowered your hand back to your side, noticing a dull ache in the arm that Gregor had grasped. That’s going to hurt tomorrow… if I have a tomorrow. You shivered at the thought, once again focusing on Oscar, and were surprised to see that he’d angled his head toward you enough that you could see both of his eyes - and the apology within them. He looks … he’s… this is real. They’re really going to -

In the moments after the realization, the men moved toward each other again, Gregor raising the sword and Oscar lifting the dagger, the muscles in his bare back rippling and flexing. He moved almost faster than you could track, and the clanging of the weapons in the dimly lit alley froze you in place again, the sound sending a shiver through your bones. That’s metal on metal. Those are real weapons.

It was a fight between the two of them, and even though Oscar could move faster, the sheer weight behind each of Gregor’s movements concerned you. If he goes down, it’s over. He’s going to… You gasped as Oscar darted behind the larger man, slashing at his clothes in a fluid movement, and once again dared to hope as you saw the material on Gregor’s sleeve split apart, pale flesh exposed through the opening. It’s a start.

You could feel your heart pounding as well as hear it - the sound of rushing blood loud in your ears. Before the man you knew could get in another attack though, the larger of the two whirled back to face Oscar, an unnaturally loud, frustrated growl leaving his throat.

“You protect them from their crimes, Clegane. You protect them from the world, and for what?” It was Oscar’s turn to snarl, the hand holding the dagger moving quickly and trying to find another opening. The face or the neck. It’s the only exposed area, it’s… “You protect those Lannister shits from everything that they have ever done, and that -” He dropped his weapon and launched himself at the man, seeming to fly through the air. Both of Oscar’s hands closed around the one that Gregor held his sword in. “That ends tonight.”

Gregor roared again, but you watched as Oscar tightened his hold around the man’s gloved wrist, wrenching the sword from him. It clattered to the concrete, and the second that it did, he pulled on his arm and twisted the giant’s body, dragging the larger man down to the damp pavement. Holy shit, he… he took him down. I -

But the mountainous man refused to fall silent.“I underestimated you, little Martell.” It was almost as though the man wasn’t taking his situation seriously, the words more incredulous than anything else despite the danger. How?

“Size does not matter when you're flat on your back.” Oscar spoke again as he wrestled the other man’s hulking shoulders to the ground, his hold never wavering as he dropped to a knee atop the man’s chest to further pin him. “And we both know that there are things in this world that are stronger than you. Now?” You inched closer as you watched Oscar, the dark haired man leaning in to stare straight into the eyes of his enemy. “Now I am one of them.” What?

It happened in an instant, and you were almost certain that you were imagining things; that it was your traumatized brain overcompensating for everything that had happened to you in the previous moments that made you see something that wasn’t there. Surely the way Oscar’s features changed beneath the streetlamps - his eyes darkening and upper lip curling to expose the top row of his teeth - was just your adrenaline fueled imagination. But…are they… it looks like… You found yourself leaning even closer to the scene, trying to figure out what was actually happening, but it wasn’t until Oscar lowered his head toward the other man’s throat that it became clear what you were seeing. He’s going to bite him. But that would mean…

Gregor’s howl pierced the air, but it was cut off as quickly as it began, Oscar sitting straight up again and spitting in disgust as he shot to his feet. There was a smear of red on his lower face, smudged over his chin and in his beard “What is this?” He swiped at his mouth, brow furrowed as he stared at the crimson streak on the back of his hand, his head turning back and forth before bringing his eyes back up. “What did -” Gregor slowly got to his feet, searching for his sword with his opposite hand and finally closing his fingers around the hilt. “There is something -” “You’re not the only one that knows of poison, Viper.” Gregor laughed, the gargled sound garish when taking the blood seeping down the side of his neck into account. Oscar took one step back, the heel of his boot making contact with the pommel of his dagger, but before he could bend down to pick it up, Gregor’s hand thrust forward and you watched as the tip of the sword disappeared into Oscar’s abdomen, the blade piercing flesh with devastating ease. “The Lannisters send their regards.” There was no emotion in the words, and your eyes were fixated on Oscar’s midsection, both hands clenched into fists at your sides and your heart thundering against your ribs. Before you could react, the sword was withdrawn, blood spurting from the wound immediately and painting the ground - and Oscar’s skin in a bright red splatter. No, I… he… it…

You screamed then, but it was more of a shriek, and though you didn’t know why you did it, you took a full step forward, reaching for Oscar with one hand while you stared at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. There was nothing more you could do and you knew it. At least we won’t die alone. He turned his head toward you, and you saw the pain behind his gaze, a deep disappointment that was readable even from a distance, but it was Gregor that moved toward you first, the still-bloody point of his sword aimed at you. “Your turn.” There was blood pouring from his mouth and neck, the sound of his voice thick, but before he’d taken another step, Oscar was in motion, too.

The man whirled around and bent down in one fluid movement, fingers closing around his weapon’s handle before he lept back at Gregor, the trajectory of his motion causing the larger man to stumble backwards and into the wall. You held your breath as Oscar used one hand to slam the other man’s head against the surface, the force of the impact cracking the brick behind it. Ouch, that … how is he … A handful of brick fragments rained to the ground as both men followed, Oscar straddling one of Gregor’s legs, his fingers still curled against the side of the larger man’s head. He just killed him. He -

There was a flash of silver as Oscar lifted the dagger above his head and then brought it down, finding the sweet spot and burying his blade between the torn flesh of the man’s neck and the edge of his armor. You flinched at the squelching sound it made as he twisted the knife before pulling it out and letting it fall to the ground beside them. He definitely killed him.I -

“We have to go.” Oscar was in front of you before you knew what was happening, eyes focused on your face. “He’s down, but he will get back up. I’ve seen it before. We need to leave now. I need to -” You stared at him - taking in the sight of the blood on his chin and lips, more of a smear than anything else, since he’d taken a moment to swipe at his face. Blood. In his mouth and on his… Squeezing your eyes shut, you opened them again after tilting your head down. The first thing you saw was the bloody gash near his waist and you gasped. “You’re hurt.” Tentatively, you reached a hand out, letting it hover over Oscar’s wound. “You just … how are … how did -” The man only hesitated for a moment before he touched the side of your face and said your name, no traces of his earlier rage present. Is it his bloody hand, or -

“I’ll explain, I promise. We just need to … We need to get to safety. I need you to -” He winced then, and you felt his fingers curl against your skin, his thumb sliding over your cheekbone as the other hand moved beneath yours to cover the wound near his waist. Without thinking, you pressed your palm against his knuckles to help him keep steady pressure there. “We have to go. Let me get you somewhere that isn’t here.”

It was insane to even think about leaving with him. You’d just seen the man in front of you fight someone in an alley with a dagger, seen him bite the other man’s neck, tearing it open with his teeth, watched him get stabbed with a longsword and then take a man nearly three times his size down as though it were nothing - and he wanted you to leave with him. It’s nuts. He’s… there’s… but he… he didn’t move until Gregor was … You made your decision with one final look at Oscar’s face - his brown eyes wide and the expression dominating his features filled with a silent plea.

“My apartment is like fifteen minutes away, we can -” Oscar grimaced, pulling his hand gently away from you as he turned, slowly making his way to where he’d discarded his belt and robe. You followed, a step behind him and half expecting that he’d need you to catch him if he stumbled. But he… how is he… if I got stabbed I’d be…Even injured, the man was still more graceful than you could ever hope to be, slipping the material back over his body to cover the wound and all of the blood and retying the belt - though he made it slightly tighter than it had been. Get his dagger. You turned to where the weapon lay, crouching down to pick it up so he wouldn’t need to bend over the gash in his waist again.“We can go there, and I can figure out if you need to go to the hospital. This is obviously the guy that’s been -” Closing your fingers around the handle, you were surprised by the weight of it even though you’d just seen what it could do. Definitely not a fake. “We can’t go to your apartment.” Oscar spoke from behind you, and when you stood and spun to face him, he held out his right hand, glancing down at the weapon you held before he looked back at you. ”You can’t go back there.” His eyebrows came together in concern. “They’ll find out who you are very easily now.” They? Who? You had an idea of who he meant, but were unwilling to believe it. Instead, you handed the blade over and watched as he cleaned it off with a small piece of cloth that had been attached to the scabbard on his belt before re-sheathing it. “I have a … place. It’s close, and no one knows about it. We’ll be safe there, until I can …” He glanced past you and at the form of the man, still slumped halfway against the ground, back pressed to the brick. “Until I can figure out what to do next.” Next? What’s next? Isn't he dead?

“Are you going to make it?” You questioned him quietly, willing your voice to remain steady. Please say you are. “That looks bad, Oscar. He -” “Yes.” He sounded sure, and it was all you needed, giving him a single nod as you stepped next to him, letting out a long breath. “I will make it. Today is not the day I die.” You didn’t think twice as you slipped your arm around his upper back, the man’s arm going around your shoulders as he led you toward the open end of the alleyway. “Pick up your phone,” he murmured, jutting his chin out toward the device. “You need to turn it off, but at least you’ll have it.” I… that’s what you’re concerned with?

Without letting go of him, you bent down and scooped it up, surprised to see that the screen was still intact. That’s a positive, at least. You pressed your finger against the button on the side of it, and by the time you and Oscar stepped back onto the main sidewalk - much more crowded with people in costume than it had been only an hour earlier - the device was dark.

Oscar hadn’t been lying when he said that his place was close, but it had taken you longer than you thought it should have to reach it, the two of you stumbling down the sidewalks without speaking. The silence hadn’t kept you from worrying, though, your arm around him firmly in case he needed your support. He’s moving much faster than I would if I’d just …

But you refused to let yourself think about what had happened, at least until you’d arrived wherever he was leading you to, and aside from a few quiet grunts and a long hiss as someone moving past you bumped into him, you and Oscar stayed quiet.

You had questions, of course, and hoped that he would be willing and able to answer at least a few of them for you. You’d seen the sword’s length pierce Oscar’s body though, seen the blood as it spurted from the wound and dripped onto the pavement, heard the sound of the larger man’s body hitting the brick, and so you also knew that you wouldn’t press him for answers. I’m not afraid he’d hurt me, but I … he could.

It was clear that Oscar was afraid of very little; that much was evident from the way he’d taunted his enormous adversary. You also knew that he could withstand tremendous amounts of pain and injuries that should have been a death sentence. Combined with his extreme strength, the truth of the matter was that you had no intention of further riling up the man if you could help it. And … and he bit Gregor’s neck open, he …

“We’re here.” You were stopped in front of a nondescript apartment building, the lights lining the walkway behind the gate illuminating the man’s face as he turned toward you, putting space between the two of you for the first time since leaving the alley. “I…” His shoulders rose and then fell, but Oscar’s lips stayed closed as he watched you. You what? “I give you my word that I won’t hurt you. If you come inside with me, I mean. I know you -” “I didn’t think you would.” Swallowing, you moved your head from side to side as you interrupted him. “You don’t have to -” “I do.” Oscar’s eyes moved over your face, and then the man swiftly raised a hand to his lips, tongue darting out to wet the tip of his thumb before he swiped it over your cheek. I guess there was blood there. “I don’t want you to be afraid of what I am.” What are you? You knew that your eyes widened, but it only took you a few seconds to recover, closing them and nodding.

“OK.” It came out with no hesitation, and when you opened your eyes to meet his, you could almost feel his relief. “You won’t hurt me. I believe you.” Pointing to the walkway, you cleared your throat. “We need to get you inside, Oscar. Need to look at your stomach in the light, and get it cleaned up.” “I’ll take care of it.” He pushed the gate open, stepping through it and you followed him, the man moving ahead of you but with a slight limp, his shoulders hunched unevenly beneath the brilliant yellow material of the robe. You made it up the three flights of stairs and to his front door, noticing the almost imperceptible wince as he slid his hand beneath the opening below his belt and brought it back out, key in hand. By the time you heard the locking mechanism disengage though, any sign of discomfort was gone. “You first.”

Unwilling to argue, you stepped past him and into the apartment, blinking at the fluorescent lighting after you flipped the switch. This isn’t what I pictured him to… Head turning from side to side, you took in your surroundings. There was nothing remarkable about the room you were in, even though it looked comfortable, the space more reminiscent of a hotel suite than a home. This is … Confused, you turned in a slow circle until you were facing the doorway where Oscar was standing with his back to you, hands working quickly to secure the multiple locks on the door. That’s… odd. Staring at the man as he finished, you saw that there was a small, dark spot on the robe - right about where his wound would be, and the sight of it made you flinch, one hand unconsciously reaching out toward him. What are you doing?

You stopped before you made contact, Oscar turning around again to face you. “What?” He pressed a palm against his stomach, nose wrinkling. “I’m not locking you in, I -” “Is he dead?” It was the first thing you thought to ask, and even though you knew it was a stupid question, you couldn’t help yourself. “I mean you stabbed him, and he was bleeding from where you …” One corner of his mouth twitched as though he was trying not to laugh, but instead of doing that, Oscar stepped closer to you, cautiously holding out his free hand, palm turned up and the tips of his fingers slightly bent. You reached for him automatically to take it, the warmth of his skin surprising to you - as was the strength you felt when he enveloped your fingers with his.

“He isn’t.” Oh. He frowned. “At least I don’t think he is. But he’ll be down for a while, and that gives me … time.” The man cleared his throat, eyes moving down to your joined hands and then back up. “You’re safe here. From me. From him. From… them.” Them? Who? He sighed. “I’ll tell you more, but I need to…” The fingers at his waist flexed, Oscar’s voice dropping, and you reflexively tightened your hold on his hand. “I need to change my clothes, need to see -” “Do you need my help?” You didn’t know what you could offer - they didn’t teach suturing in the mandatory safety seminars you’d attended for work, nor did they have a handbook for explaining the inexplicable, but you wanted him to know that you weren’t just saying the words; you truly weren’t afraid of him. If he wanted to hurt me he would have. “I can hold a mirror or something, let you -”

“There should be something that will fit you in the second bedroom.” He pointed to the right, at the darkened hallway. “Choose whatever you want. You are a guest here, and I want you to be comfortable.” The man frowned, his eyes moving down from your face and settling on your shoulder. “It’s torn. He ruined your -” The snarl was back and it shocked you how upset the man seemed to be over whatever it was that he’d seen. “The straps and the draping and the …” Anger flashed in his eyes again, and Oscar muttered something that you couldn’t quite make out under his breath. He’s worried about my costume? He just got stabbed and he… “Anything you want; it’s yours.”

“A… alright.” You let out a breath and then he let go of you, quick strides taking him toward the hall, too. Only a moment later the main bedroom’s door closed behind him, leaving you in the quiet confines of the living room. Well fuck. You were no closer to having answers, but Oscar seemed slightly steadier on his feet than he had in the alley, the limp gone, and you figured that it was a good sign.

You heard nothing from the room he’d disappeared into, and so you shook your head to clear it and made your way into the other bedroom, flipping that light on as you pulled the door shut. It was just as normal as the living room had been, though the bed looked inviting, and for the first time you realized that you were tired, the excitement of the Golden Lion party and getting to wear your costume long diminished. And he said it’s torn, but … At that, you spun toward the mirror hanging on the wall, one hand flying up to your mouth at the sight of your clothing. Oh, it’s bad.

Two of the straps at your shoulder were hanging loosely down the front of your body, and the carefully sewn pleating on the bodice was loose, too, the stitches ripped apart. And the tassels are … You didn’t even want to imagine what the back of it looked like, the lacing likely shredded, and so you closed your eyes, spinning away from the mirror and toward the closet and dresser.

There were clothes in both, and after digging through two of the drawers, you found a pair of pants and a shirt that would fit. But whose clothes are these? It was another question you had, and by the time you’d removed your costume, carefully laying the ruined pieces over the back of a chair in the corner of the room and the headpiece on the seat, it was all you could think about. You got your answer as you went to pull the shirt over your head, and it stopped you immediately. They’re brand new. The tag was still on the shirt, and you very quickly realized that the pants were the same - tag intact. And … they aren’t cheap either. I wonder…

Turning back to the dresser, you pulled open the top drawer and felt less surprise than you thought you would when you saw that it was filled with underclothes; bras and socks and underwear in different sizes and styles - all of the pieces still unworn. What is this… who is he?

Every instinct you had told you that you should have felt afraid for your safety - the true crime podcasts you listened to weekly and the TV shows that you couldn’t get enough of had warned you about finding yourself in situations like your present one and recognizing the danger they presented, but you weren’t afraid - at all. Why? Why am I not even a little scared? With a long, slow inhale, you picked out a new set of underwear and turned back to the bed, pulling the tags off and stacking them on the side table with the others before you got dressed again. There has to be an explanation, and he just saved my life, so I … owe him a chance to give it to me.

Fully dressed, you opened the door and went back into the living room, which was still empty - the other bedroom’s door shut. Look around. After regrouping, you did just that, turning in a slow circle in the center of the room while you stood behind the couch, trying to find any detail you could that might give you a clue about the mysterious man you’d let take you home. One wall was almost completely covered with blinds, though they were partially open to expose the glass behind them, another had a smaller couch pushed up against it. The large piece of furniture in front of you faced a shorter wall, which had a big TV mounted about halfway between the floor and ceiling. But there are no books. No movies… no pictures. There were no personal touches, nothing unique about the decor. The dining room was behind you, but there wasn’t a family sized table there - instead, it was a small square one with only two chairs. Maybe he’s staying at a friend’s place? Maybe -

Your thoughts were interrupted as a door opened, and without thinking, you spun around toward the sound, jaw dropping as you saw Oscar step back into the room with you. He… The man was still shirtless, though he’d cleaned himself up - his face and arms were no longer bloody, and neither was his chest. He even cleaned the pendant off. “You found something to wear.” His eyes moved up and down your form and he nodded once, but you didn’t say anything in return, your gaze locked on his midsection. That’s not possible. The man said your name, taking another step closer, and even though you wanted to step backwards, you held your ground. It can’t… he… “Say what you’re thinking.”

“Oscar, it...you…” Your jaw worked; and you knew that your breathing had quickened - you could feel your chest rising and falling as you stared at the man’s golden skin. “How?” It isn’t… it’s not even bleeding, it’s… When you finally looked him in the eye again, you saw that he was watching you with curiosity, shoulders set and head held high. “I watched you … he… it…” There were only two explanations for what you were seeing, and one of them would have required a lot more alcohol than the amount that you’d consumed at the party. And the other? It’s not … not possible.

You’d heard the stories; everyone had. Otherworldly creatures, the stuff of legends, scary tales that had been passed down for thousands of years. Dragons were the tip of the iceberg, but right alongside things like White Walkers, werewolves, Direwolves, and sea monsters, you’d grown up hearing people tell stories about Others. But it’s not possible. They don’t exist. None of them … Cautiously, you inched closer to the man, never breaking eye contact as you searched his face for anything that would give you an answer. “Please say something.”

“It healed.” Your voice wavered, but you recovered quickly. “Sort of. But that isn’t…” Eyes moving back down, you took in the way the wound was nearly closed, the pucker of skin near the center still angry and red, with a few darker lines stretching out in all directions around it. “It should have taken weeks for it to look like that. But it’s been… an hour? No more than -”

“Yes.” He sighed. “It is healing. Slower than usual, but it …” He cleared his throat and you brought your chin back up, tongue heavy in your mouth as you listened. Healing. Slowly. This isn’t new for him. “I told you I wasn’t going to die tonight.”

“You did.” It was only a whisper, but he nodded in return, and you stepped closer to the man once again, hands hanging at your sides. “And I’m glad for that, Oscar.” It’s not possible. “Are… how do you feel? You… did I … was I seeing things? Did he not -” The man reached for you, pausing before he touched your hand, and when you didn’t pull away he took it, fingers lacing with yours and squeezing gently. But he’s not always gentle, he hurt that man, tried to kill him, he … “You got stabbed, and -”

“You were not.” His voice was low again, warm, and thick like honey seeping straight into your bones - unlike the way it had been in the alley, rage gone and replaced with something else that you couldn’t place. “It was a large wound. Through and through. Gregor is a strong man, and I was lucky that you were there.” Gregor. That’s such a … such a weird name. “Thank you for making sure I was able to get away. Thank you for -” “You saved me, Oscar. You came back. How did you -” Lifting your other hand, you gently touched the center of his chest with your fingertips, head moving back and forth. “You were gone, and I left, and he grabbed me, and -”

“I watched it happen.” His accent’s back. You realized it a few seconds after he began speaking, but once you noticed, it was all you could focus on. “While you were talking to your colleagues, I thought I saw something - someone - and I left to follow him. It was not … I was wrong, and decided to go back so that you and I could continue our conversation. “ You smiled at that - briefly - as you recalled his words from earlier and the way he’d spoken them to you - the taste of him and the wine he was drinking the only things you’d thought about. I can’t take up all of your time - even if I would like to.

“I looked for you.” You admitted it to him without shame. “And after talking to you, everything else seemed…” Trailing off, you tried to come up with the right word. Boring? Pointless? Not at all what I wanted? Phil’s face flashed in your mind and you wrinkled your nose before smoothing out your expression to the best of your ability and clearing your throat. “I decided to leave. And someone was following me, and then he said…” He said I was with you. “Will you tell me what he said to you?” Oscar said your name again, his grip on your hand tightening. “When he touched you?” Despite the brutality you’d seen Oscar to be capable of, you still shuddered at the thought of the larger man’s hands on you, your entire body shaking as you remembered the way he’d towered over you, his hands engulfing the parts of you that he touched, your arm still throbbing dully as though he still gripped your bicep. You felt Oscar’s thumb move over your knuckles and snapped your attention back to his eyes. “Please?”

Your fingers had flattened against his skin - palm pressed to the place on his chest between the two lengths of chain that hung around his neck. “He…” You took a deep breath, once again trying to steady yourself and do as he asked. “He said that he knew I’d been with you. He asked where you were, and then shov...shoved me down the alley, and …” “He saw us together.” Oscar murmured the words, the hard look coming back into his eyes briefly. “So I was right. I did see -” “He wasn’t at the party. That guy was huge. There’s no way I would have missed him, and -” “No. He wasn’t at the party.” Oscar confirmed that for you, the frown on his face endearingly thoughtful. He looks pale. You realized it only a moment later, watching as he closed his eyes. “We would have seen him.” We. In the silence that stretched on after that, you focused on the man in front of you. I see him, and he’s here, but he … Sliding your hand over, you let it rest above his heart, taking in the warmth beneath your palm, Oscar’s fingers still entwined with yours. “I am sorry that you had to see that.”

“What?” Clearing your throat, you whipped your head back and forth. “What do you mean? I should be thanking you. It wasn’t your fault, you’re the only reason -” “I’m the only reason that The Mountain pulled you into that alleyway.” He glanced down and then back up, the fire back in his eyes though it was somewhat muted. “If I’d done my duty, taken care of …” He trailed off, and you realized that your heart was pounding in your chest. We need to calm down, we… But even as you had the thought, you realized that beneath your palm, you couldn’t feel anything aside from Oscar’s smooth skin and the heat radiating from it. There’s no… he… Without thinking, you pressed your hand harder against his chest, willing yourself to feel the beat of his heart, too - needing to know that he wasn’t just going through the motions with you. Because this isn’t a normal situation. He should…

There was nothing. There was no steady thump, no increased thrumming, nothing smashing at his sternum from the inside. It… I should be able to feel… it was right there - the truth - just beneath the surface, and you realized it at the same time he did, the man sighing quietly and bringing his free hand up to rest it over the one you kept on his chest. It’s not possible, but it … it is. He’s... It was too much all at once, but there was nothing you could do about it. I could leave. I could walk out of here right now, and…

“I am not going to hurt you.” He repeated the words from earlier, and with a jolt, you realized that you’d gone rigid, and the man’s proximity to you made it noticeable. Shit. “I wouldn’t.” But he… he could. If he wanted to.

“I know.” You didn’t sound convinced, and you both knew it, but it didn’t stop you from continuing. “This is a lot, you know? Ever since we met, it’s been…” You didn’t know where you were going with what you were saying, and only a few seconds later - after meeting his eyes again and seeing the way he stared at you - you exhaled, nodding. “If you were going to hurt me, you would have already done it.”

You felt him freeze at that, but Oscar only watched you, a curious expression on his face. Are you going to make me say it? Make me … spell it out? The news had all but come out and said that there was something supernatural about the attacks, and after what you’d experienced, you had no doubt that that was the case. And if that’s true, then… then there are other things like Gregor out there, too. The man in front of you stayed quiet, waiting, and you looked at him again, taking everything in. No heartbeat. A wound that’s healing. He went for Gregor’s neck… it has to be…

“How long will it take you to heal, Oscar?” Your eyes moved down, narrowing at the sight of the wound. “You… said it’s slower than usual, but what does -” “Hours. Hopefully by tomorrow morning.” He cleared his throat. “Are you going to -” He coughed then, the sound harsh. It forced him to let go of you and back away, doubling over at the waist. Oh, that doesn’t sound good.

“Are you alright? Do you need some water? I -”

“I don’t need water.” He was still coughing, and as he straightened up, you saw that the lines radiating from the wound had darkened, their length increasing too. It’s not getting better. It’s getting worse. It… he’s… he needs… “Something … his blood. When I... I didn’t swallow much, but -” Oscar coughed again, turning away from you, and you gasped when you saw the state of the wound on his back. Oh, no. It also wasn’t bleeding any longer, but it looked even worse than the front - darker and more inflamed. If he’s… that shouldn’t be… “It was enough. The Lannisters found a way to …” He coughed again and you caught the smear of red against his palm when he pulled it away from his mouth, one of your hands rising to cover your lower face in shock. The Lannisters? They’re behind this? He thinks they sent…

You took a moment while Oscar composed himself to run through the Lannister history in your head, and it didn’t take long for you to remember more about their distant past - the crimes of the ancestors of the current Lannisters. It all - like many of the things you’d seen that night - seemed impossible, but the pieces fell in line with surprising ease; Golden Lion’s current status a modern day example of what it had been thousands of years earlier. The relationships were connected like the threads of a spider’s web, the lack of true adversaries - both modern and ancient - causing you to chew on the corner of your lip. It makes sense. It… But why is Oscar in the middle of it? He said he devoted time and energy into… “No.” You spoke quietly, but at the sound, the man turned back to face you, his teeth gritted in what you immediately read as a look of immense pain. He doesn’t need water.

You continued to connect the dots as you watched the man, and even though it was a lot to consider, you found yourself accepting things as soon as you thought them instead of trying to deny it any longer. I have so many questions. So much that I want to… but none of it matters if he doesn’t… The man’s knees shook as he gripped the back edge of the couch, and you realized that he was fighting to stay upright. Help him. “I need to lay down. I need to -” “You need to eat.” He opened his mouth to reply, but you didn’t let him, closing the distance between the two of you. “And I don’t mean food.” You maintained eye contact as you spoke, and without warning, Oscar dropped to his knees, the hand still firmly gripping the couch, even in the new position. Are you really considering this?

“No.” He didn’t look at you, even when you implored him to, and you watched the top of his head as he stared at the ground, the muscles in his shoulders rigid. “I can’t leave. It’s not safe.” His body shook with another cough, and that was enough for you as you dropped to your knees in front of him, reaching out to rest your hand on his shoulder. “Don’t. I -” “You don’t need to leave. I’m right here.” Making that statement checked off a few boxes for you - and you hoped he understood, too. It meant that you knew what he was and weren’t trying to run. It meant that you were offering to give him what he needed, no questions asked. And it means that he knows I want to help him. That he knows I know he won’t … But the man didn’t move, his body stiff in front of you, the hand not on the couch clenched into such a tight fist that you knew he was carving half circles into his palm with his nails. Do something.

You’d seen the movies - of course you had. The woman doing something dramatic to get the vampire’s attention; offering herself up with a grand gesture like slicing her arm open or baring skin to convince him to feed from her. But that’s not what this is. This isn’t about want, he needs … something that’s not Gregor’s blood. It has to help. “I just need to lay down. Rest. I need to -” He sounded nothing like the confident man you’d kissed earlier at the party, or like the one you’d shared a drink with at the bar. Because he needs help. He needs … he needs me.

The fact that he’d saved your life had no bearing on the way you felt - though the experience had opened your eyes. No one deserves this. He’s in pain, and he … it… I might be able to change that. “You need to eat.” He still didn’t look up - and the man didn’t acknowledge your words in any way, the silence of the apartment stretching around you. Do something. “Hey.” Moving the hand from his shoulder to tilt his chin up, you waited until he was looking at you to say anything else. Everything else is… if I’m wrong, I’m wrong, but … “Please?” Giving him a small smile, you withdrew your hand. “You promised you wouldn’t hurt me before I even came up here.” Winking at him, you tried to laugh, even though it was difficult when you could see him struggling to keep his focus on you. “Besides, you need to be strong enough to explain all this shit to me, because I -”

He laughed at that, but it was a weak sound, the muscles in his arm going taut as he tightened his grip on the couch. “You do not know what you are asking of me.” Here goes nothing.

“I do, though.” Tilting your head to the side, you gestured to your neck, still staring into his eyes. “And I’m not asking. I’m… offering.” You were afraid, but only slightly. He promised. He promised, and … I believe him. “Besides, you’re the Prince of Dorne. How -” “The party’s over.” He scoffed, eyes closing, and for the first time, you saw a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. He’s getting worse. “I’m not in costume anymore. I’m just -” He coughed again and you decided you were done with games - done with trying to ease into whatever would happen next. We don’t have time. He doesn’t have time.

“You aren’t just anything, and we both know it, Oberyn.” You saw it the moment you used his name - the look in his eyes went from glassy and slightly unfocused to pointed and bright, his lips parting to show just a hint of straight white teeth. I was right. “You can explain later, but right now, you need to -” He inched toward you, finally removing the hand from the back of the couch and using it to ease your head out of the tilt. “What? I’m -” “Not there.” He swallowed, eyes moving from your face down, following the length of your still outstretched arm. “Here.” He lowered his head toward the inner portion of it, the fingers of one hand closing around your wrist to pull you closer to him, his other hand loosely gripping your knee. “Right here.” You felt his lips working their way up toward the crook of your elbow, landing against your skin briefly every few inches and then they stopped, the man pausing before he opened his mouth, a scrape of something sharp against your skin the only warning he gave you before you felt a twinge of pain - and he sunk his teeth into your flesh.

Want to be tagged? Links are in our bios - or you can send a message!

All Pedro:

@raspberrymama @jupiters–moonxx @pretty-brown-eyess @spideysimpossiblegirl @csigeoblue @bport76 @littlemisspascal @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @nicolethered @ezras-channel-rat @quica-quica-quica @moparmama927 @amneris21 @hocuschlocus @withakindheartx @practicalghost @paracosmenthusiast @cannedsoupsucks @alraedesigns @pheedraws @pedrostories @dihra-vesa @disgruntledspacedad @mishasminion360

Oberyn:

@lowlights @chronic-nosebleed @valkblue @beefcakebarnes @g0ldenlush @thisgirl-knm @writeforfandoms @revolution-starter @thepoisonofgod @fific7

Tags didn’t work, but still asked:

@mysteriouslyfuzzypeach @supersingle

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x female reader #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell story #pedrostories #oberyn martell fanfic #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell the red viper of dorne #oberyn martell got #pedro pascal character #oberyn martell au #oberyn martell x ellaria sand #oberyn martell modern au #oberyn martell: aphelion #cowritten with rachael #game of thrones fic

108 notes · View notes

the-blind-assassin-12 · 3 years

Text

Series:

The Viper & the Wild Thing

Aphelion - co-written with @something-tofightfor

Unrelated One- Shots:

Nameday

Forbidden

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell masterlist #oberyn martell x female reader #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x ellaria sand #the red viper of dorne #oberyn martell: aphelion #aphelion #oberyn martell au

23 notes · View notes

the-blind-assassin-12 · 2 years

Text

Aphelion - 9

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, nudity, smut, weapons, vampires and other such supernatural things

Word Count: 12,185

Summary: New faces, new places and new information give you - and Oberyn - a lot (more) to think about. Meeting some of Ellaria’s other Children is an eye opener in many ways. But when you also meet someone else, you start to see the bigger picture unfold.

A/N: Both @something-tofightfor & I are very excited to share this part with you! This story continues to be a ton of fun for us to write, so we hope that you continue to enjoy it as well. We appreciate everyone who has read, commented and reblogged so far - thank you from the bottom of our hearts. You are all amazing!!

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 )

He hovered over you, staring down and supporting himself on one elbow, but after assuring you that he was glad he hadn’t listened to Ellaria’s coaxing, Oberyn stayed silent.

What is he waiting for? The hand he’d had on your side was resting on your shoulder, though his touch was so light that you could barely feel it. “Oberyn?” You broke the silence first, not even a little upset at the way your voice wavered. “I’m not going to break. You can touch m -”

“Unfortunately for me,” he finally spoke, one brow arching. “If I were to touch you the way I want to right now, there is a very good chance you would get injured.” Oh. “But.” He swallowed, the pressure from his hand increasing as he shifted some of his weight. “Fortunately for the both of us, I have mastered the art of self control.”

“What would mortal Oberyn Martell think of that?” You raised one hand, letting your fingertips trail over his lower back, skating over the space where the injury would have been and finding only smooth skin. “From what I’ve read, he would have been disappointed that you were denying yourself even the tiniest bit of pleasure.” He hummed, lowering his face toward yours and nudged the side of your nose with his, before letting his lips travel over your cheek and toward your ear.

“You deserve better than this place, this room - this bed.” He spoke without lifting his mouth, the man’s breath hot on your still cooling skin. “And when it is time, I will make sure that you have better.” He took your earlobe between his teeth again, the sudden pressure causing you to gasp and bring your other hand up to join the first at his waist. “But until then…” He released your ear and then followed the curve of your jaw down until his mouth was hovering over the place that he’d marked you. “There are plenty of other ways to keep ourselves occupied that are almost as enjoyable.”

He closed the distance immediately upon finishing his sentence, Oberyn’s lips making contact with the spot on your neck that seemed to tingle whenever he was near. The moment they did, you cried out, your fingers digging into his skin and pulling his hips down to meet yours.

But he didn’t just rest his lips there - he kissed your neck, the tip of his tongue wetting the skin before his mouth dragged over it, followed by a gentle suction as his full lips latched on. Your eyes closed, mouth falling open, and you knew without a doubt that even if that was as far as things ever went with him, no other man would ever compare to the way Oberyn’s touch made you feel.

He released the marked patch of skin and continued toward the center of your throat, sliding the hand on your shoulder beneath the back of your head to tilt it, pulling the skin he was kissing taut. It was impossible to stay quiet at the feeling and so you didn’t even try, small sighs and whimpers escaping you as he explored your body with his mouth. That feels… incredible.

It wasn’t fair - the brevity of the time you’d have with him. Even if he was able to complete his mission and exact revenge - even if he chose to stick around with you for a number of years until you were too old to satisfy his need for companionship anymore - it would be unfair. But he never said he was even considering that. Your hips rose from the mattress of their own volition and you could feel him through the material of his sweats - the only clothing he still wore - firm against your abdomen, Oberyn doing nothing to hide his body’s reaction to yours. But he’s here now and so am I, so…

It emboldened you, both hands moving lower and sliding over the waistband of his pants, settling over the flexing muscles beneath them. His mouth was on your chest, but it wasn’t only his lips that you could feel - his neatly trimmed beard dragged along your skin, too, the softness of it sending a shiver through your entire body that you knew the man felt. “Your heart is racing.” He murmured the words, lifting his head briefly. “How long has it been since -” “Too long.” Never. You forced the words out, willing your eyes to open so that you could look into his. “Too long, Oberyn.” And never like this. The man’s lips twitched and then he returned to what he’d been doing, your eyes following his movement for a few seconds before they closed again, a satisfied sigh tumbling from your lips.

As he moved lower, you brought your hands up, running them both along the expanse of his back, nails dragging against it. Oberyn didn’t seem to mind at all, and you felt him growl against you, his head turning to one side as he bit down again - that time on the side of one breast. He wasn’t trying to pierce your skin, but even if he had been, you wouldn’t have stopped him. He’d fix it. You were certain of it, especially after he’d made it a point to tell you that he was only able to heal the wounds he caused. I wonder how often he … Taking a deep breath in as Oberyn’s mouth closed around a nipple, you sighed out his name as your thoughts scattered.

He was slow as he explored, lips replacing his tongue on one side of your chest as he swiped a thumb over the swell of the other. When he switched sides he did it so smoothly you barely realized that he’d removed the hand from beneath your head until both of them were on you. Oberyn was balancing on his knees between your legs, and you finally gave in to the urge to run your fingers through his hair, one hand gripping his shoulder while the fingers of the other tangled in the soft, slightly shaggy locks.

Despite the worries you’d had only hours earlier about Ellaria and overstepping on her territory, she was far from your mind as Oberyn continued to make his way down your body, tongue dragging along your skin so slowly that it was almost as though he wasn’t moving at all. But he is. Nosing along your abdomen, you felt his lips moving as he spoke into your skin. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, though, until he groaned out your name and told you to look at him.

You realized then that both of your hands were near his face - one in his hair and the other slipping down to cup his cheek as the two of you locked eyes. “Is this what you want?” He’s seriously asking me that right now? His chin rested against your stomach, the man’s thumbs circling slowly over your hips while he waited for your answer. “You do not owe me the -” “If you stop right now, Oberyn? I’ll never speak to you again.” You hadn’t realized that you were panting until you had to force the words out, but even though they sounded pathetic as you heard yourself say them, he only grinned at you, closing his eyes as he tightened his hold on your hips. “I mean, unless you really want to stop, then I can’t -”

“I do not want to.” One side of his mouth twitched, his expression settling into something searing. Oberyn’s lips parted enough to slide the tip of his tongue through the opening as he licked them. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.” You frowned slightly. If I trusted you while you were out of it, why wouldn’t I trust you now? “With my life, Oberyn.” That seemed to be the answer he was looking for. With a wink, he tilted his head down again and returned his mouth to your skin, lips finding the sensitive place just beneath your belly button as he moved backwards on the mattress, the motion smooth enough that the mattress barely shifted.

Oberyn’s hands continued to stroke over your skin, his wide palms skimming over the tops of your thighs as he pushed your legs further apart. You felt the drag of his teeth over your abdomen and then, almost immediately after, the tip of one finger moved slowly down the crease of your leg, his knuckle making contact with your center for the first time and causing your hips to jerk forward. He kept you in place though, tracing a pattern along the place where your leg met your body, your mind struggling to keep up as you attempted to focus on everything he was doing. Who could possibly do that though?

Without warning, he pushed a single finger into you and you cried out at the sensation, the muscles in your legs tightening in response. But when Oberyn murmured for you to relax, you did so almost immediately, like his request was a command that you couldn’t ignore instead of a suggestion. He began to move his hand, withdrawing his finger only to add a second, and you tilted your head down, opening your eyes. I want to see what… But the thought was rendered incomplete when you saw the position he was in - his cheek resting on one thigh as he stared at the movement of his hand.

It was lewd - the way he was focused on how his fingers looked as they disappeared into you, but you didn’t care, eyes squeezed shut again as your head hit the pillow. He’d never touched you before and was still learning your body, but it didn’t matter; Oberyn’s skill was undeniable, and you were reaping the benefit of it.

His fingers stilled and you opened your eyes, ready to ask him what was wrong, but then you felt his mouth on the inside of your leg, the flat of his tongue replacing his cheek, and you nearly moaned at the way it felt. But he’s still not moving his hand. He’s just… waiting. There was no way to predict what would happen next, and so when you felt the man press a kiss to the meat of your inner thigh, you sucked in a quick breath that stuck in your throat when you understood what his next move was. He’s going to…

Without pause, Oberyn sunk his teeth into your leg, the pinch of pain coinciding with another flex of his wrist, the fluid stroke of his fingers resuming. Oh, fuck. Oh fuck. Instead of touching him, your hands fisted the blankets you were laying on, a series of breathy sighs the only sounds you could manage. He drank slowly from you - not because he was thirsty, but because he was enjoying it, and you continued to grip the blankets, eyes on the ceiling.

It was too much - the way his mouth felt as he latched onto the thin skin of your leg, the gentle press of his tongue in the space between his teeth, the motion of his fingers inside of you - and you knew that it wouldn’t take long for him to pull you to the point of no return, the combination of Oberyn’s touch and the way he was tasting you more than enough. He hummed against your leg, fingers twisting inside of you, and the feeling from the first time he’d fed came back - a contentment that relaxed your entire body, the tingling sensation strong, centered in the lowest part of your stomach.

It wasn’t a race to the finish for you, and it didn’t hit you suddenly, but when you came - your muscles clenching around Oberyn’s fingers - you groaned, whispering his name and let yourself sink, your entire body relaxing, even as he withdrew his fingers and replaced them on your opposite leg. You felt him close the wound - the pressure relieved, followed by a few passes of his tongue, and then Oberyn was making his way back up your body, pressing kisses to the few parts of you he’d neglected before.

“What was that?” You could barely open your eyes to look at him, even when he settled down next to you. Burying his face in the crook of your neck as he extended one arm over your chest, his hand settled against your opposite shoulder. “And do you want me to -” He pulled away, keeping his voice low.

“I wanted to know what you taste like.” But you already… You opened your eyes at that, finding his head on the pillow next to yours, the man watching you intently. “The body’s reaction to sex is an incredibly complex thing.” He spoke quietly and you brought a hand up to settle it against his arm, fingers laying on his bicep. “And I wanted to know what your blood does when you come.” He smirked, moving closer, and Oberyn hooked a knee over your leg, pressing his body against your side. “I cannot wait to have the real thing.”

“But your hand, Oberyn, your fingers. You could have -”

“I could have. I wanted to. But there is plenty of time for that.” He closed his eyes. “Once I taste you that way?” They opened, meeting yours with no hesitation. “There will be no stopping me.” It took you a minute but when you understood what he was saying, it made your heart skip. He trusts himself more with my blood than he does with my body right now. “You will not want to hear this, but I want to be honest with you.”

“OK.” You didn’t know exactly what he was going to tell you, but it didn’t matter. “Be honest then.”

“Ellaria’s blood - and her strength - are consuming me right now.” His hand moved from your shoulder to your cheek, fingertips grazing the fullest part of it. “As much as I would have liked to be with you tonight?” He said your name, the sound of it almost reverent. “I do not know that I could have been gentle enough.” Oh. “And I made you a promise.” He needs to fuck her. He needs to get it out of his system and he can’t hurt her the same way he could hurt me. It makes sense, but … Breaking eye contact, you returned your gaze to the ceiling.

It stung even though you knew that it shouldn’t have. It wasn’t the fact that he’d just told you that he and Ellaria would be going to bed together at some point in the near future - likely in the apartment that you were currently in. In some part of your brain, you knew that it was going to happen. What stung was the realization that even when he was back in complete control, there would always be a risk with him. I’ll always be weaker. More fragile. “Oberyn?” You inhaled, holding your breath for long moments, and then continued. “You said you preferred the company of humans, so is it just because of what happened to me that you’re … hesitant tonight, or is it something else?”

“Something else.” He used the hand attached to the arm slung over your chest to turn your chin toward him, ensuring that you were looking directly into his eyes, his fingertips moving up and skating over your cheek. “I am more Ellaria Sand than I am myself right now. The amount of blood I took from her was excessive, and that means that until my body has had time to process it, I will…” He closed his eyes. “I do not know my own strength, or what I am capable of.” So he’s really worried he’s going to hurt me. “It has been… many years since I have been unsure of myself, and I will not risk your safety until I am in control of my actions.”

“So wait…” You turned the upper half of your body toward him, too, raising your hand to card your fingers through his hair again. “You said that when someone wakes up, they’re hungry and vulnerable. Violent. Is that -”

“Do I appear violent to you now?” He smiled, inching closer on the pillow and trailing his lips over your nose and cheek. “Are you afraid?”

“No. Not at all.” Licking your lips, you closed your eyes and let him continue, enjoying the way his movements felt. “But you must have been hungry, at least.” He laughed, the quiet sound going straight into your ear, your fingers tightening in his hair.

“I was very hungry, but Ellaria brought blood.” He kissed you on the mouth and then pulled back, resting his head on the pillow. “Throughout the years, we’ve worked to create things that benefit our kind in times of need. Bagged enhanced blood. New weapons. The ability to move in the daylight. A -”

“Supplements for the people you drink from.” His eyes widened in surprise, but Oberyn nodded. “Ellaria gave me some of those, too. She made me eat real food and take those, and then opened her wrist for me.” Shivering, you closed your eyes. “Oberyn, I won’t ever be able to repay her for this. She saved my life and -”

“You don’t need to repay her.” He said your name again, clearing his throat. “That’s not what this is about.” He went quiet, the two of you staring at each other for long moments. “It hurts me to deny you anything.” He frowned, his hand sliding down to your neck, where his fingers curled slightly. “But it would hurt more t-”

“You don’t owe me an explanation.” It was your turn to kiss him, your lips seeking his and lingering. “As much as I’d like…” No, you know what? “As much as I look forward to being with you like that, Oberyn? I can wait until you’re a little more in control.” And I mean it. His words made sense, and even with Ellaria’s blood in your system, you knew it wouldn’t be enough to mend broken bones or worse. “But it’s a good sign that you were able to bite me and not take that further, right? You barely took any blood, just -”

“It is.” He seemed surprised that you’d pivoted so quickly, but Oberyn’s agreement was almost instantaneous. “I didn’t even think of that.” What? Stilling at his words, you waited. “No, I mean I didn’t even think of drinking more deeply. I just needed a taste to go with the view, and…” You groaned, turning your head toward the pillow and closing your eyes. “It was quite an enjoyable view.”

“Oberyn.” You groaned his name out, but you had to admit that the way he’d looked at you - up close and personal - had been a turn on, even in the brief moments you’d managed to keep your eyes open. Even though he’s probably looked at thousands of people like that, it… he was looking at me, too. “On that note, I think I should get dressed. I’m hungry again, and I’m sure Ellaria will be back soon.” He agreed with you, but before you could move away from him and find clothes, he was on top of you again.

He didn’t hover that time, instead letting his weight rest atop your body as he lowered his head toward yours, Oberyn wasting no time as he kissed you. It was easy for you to get lost in it, his lips parting so that his tongue met yours as he dragged his hips against you. He’s still… shit, I didn’t even realize…

He was still hard beneath the pants he wore, and at the contact with your body, the man moaned, the movement of his hips quickening. You were surprised that you couldn’t taste even a faint remnant of blood on his tongue, but as soon as you had the thought, you pushed it to the side, instead focusing only on the way he was kissing you - hard and slow, his hands pushing beneath your body a few moments later to flip the two of you over.

You gasped from above him as he laid on his back, finally separating to breathe as you stared down at him. “Are you sure that you don’t want me to -”

“Oh, I want you to. Very much.” Raising a brow, Oberyn blinked slowly. “More than I can even explain, in fact.” You braced your hands on his shoulders, Oberyn’s arms locked around your lower back. “Soon.” Lifting his head from the pillow, he kissed you briefly and then let go, a lazy smile on his face. “You should get dressed. It would be good for me to eat again, too.”

From anyone else, it would have seemed dismissive, but you knew that Oberyn wasn’t trying to do that. Not with me. “Last thing I want to do is keep you from a meal, Prince Oberyn.” Climbing off of him, you bent down to grab the towel and covered yourself with it before glancing back over your shoulder. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him lounging in your bed with one leg bent, the position doing nothing to hide his tented pants, and an arm casually hooked behind his head as he stared at you. I can’t let myself get used to this.

But as you stood in front of the dresser, trying to decide which of the clothes to wear, you wondered if maybe - at least for a little while - you could.

The sun was just beginning to set when Oberyn straightened up, his eyes moving from the playing cards scattered on the coffee table toward the door. “She’s back.” Your fingers tightened on the cards you held but you nodded in response, eyes flicking up to his face. “And … she brought a friend.” A friend? It took you a minute but you realized that it must have been Tyene, which meant that you were about to meet another important woman from Oberyn’s past - and another of Ellaria’s Children. “Be wary.”

“What?” Flipping the cards over, you set them on the table and then took a long breath.”Of -” “She’s no danger to you, but Tyene can be …” He shrugged. “You’ll see.” Great. “You -” He was interrupted by a single knock on the door and then it opened, Ellaria striding in with a few shopping bags over one arm. She was followed by a wheeled cart pushed by a much smaller person. The cart contained a large crate, the weight easily moved by the woman, her covered head bowed. “Ellaria.” He set his cards down and stood, rounding the table toward the women. “Tyene. It has been too long.”

You pushed to your feet, too, but when you attempted to step next to him, Oberyn’s arm shot out, preventing it. Why? He slowly moved it backward and you realized that he meant for you to stand behind him, the man’s body acting as a buffer between you and the two women. But he marked me, they can’t -

“It smells like sex in here.” Tyene finally spoke as she shut the door behind her, one hand rising to push the hood from her head. “You could have opened a window or -”

“Tyene.” Ellaria’s tone was sharp, though it ended with a slight sigh as she set the bags down onto the dining room table. “Where are your manners?” Gesturing toward where you and Oberyn stood, she raised one eyebrow and met your eyes over his shoulder. You saw in them that she was amused, the other woman’s declaration obviously something that she agreed with. But she really doesn’t look mad. She looks … excited. “You look better. Both of you.”

“I took a shower.” It came out quieter than you would have liked, but at the sound of your voice, Oberyn’s arm dropped, his posture relaxing slightly. “And I ate again. So -”

“We both ate.” Oberyn said her name, Tyene’s attention finally moving to him and settling for a few seconds before moving to you, her dark eyes full of something that it took you a few moments to identify. She’s amused. She’s fucking with us. Well, with me. “I figured you would do the same while you were out.”

“I did.” Ellaria closed the distance between herself and Oberyn, reaching out to take his face between her hands. “You do not have to protect her from Tyene, my Prince. There is no need to.” She leaned in, pressing her lips to his and then turned her gaze to you, searching your face for something. “Did he tell you everything?”

“He told me enough.” It was easier to speak to her the more you did it, the initial fear you’d felt upon seeing the woman clearly for the first time disappearing as you began to accept your newfound place in their circle. “I understand now.” That seemed to be what she needed to hear, the woman releasing Oberyn and stepping back to stand next to Tyene.

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.”

Tyene was still staring back at you, taking you in an inch at a time, but when she reached your throat, her eyes widened and then rose to Oberyn’s face. She saw the mark. “Oberyn, you -” There was no more sarcasm in her tone. Instead it was filled with shock, her eyes widening. “But you haven’t… not in…” He let you go then, stepping toward her and you were surprised to see her move instantly, throwing her arms around him and burying her head against his chest.

They stood like that for a long time, the man speaking too quietly for you to understand as he rocked back and forth, and you were again struck by how similar they looked to one another. “Come into the other room with me.” Ellaria spoke to you, gesturing to the bedroom that Oberyn had slept in, and you headed for the hallway ahead of her, stopping just inside the doorway and turning back to watch as she closed it behind her. “Of all of my Children, Tyene and her sisters are the most challenging.” She raised an eyebrow and then lifted one hand, moving her hair away from her face. “They are fiercely protective of me, of course, but also of Oberyn.”

“Sisters? Does that mean -” She shook her head no, her smile almost gentle.

“They are just similar in age. Different in temperament, but very much alike in many other ways. They tend to stay together, and I cannot blame them because…” She paused, still watching you closely. “Having those that we care about close to us is always preferable to the alternative.”

“She looks like she could be his daughter.” Pressing your lips together, you met Ellaria’s gaze without blinking. “Is that why you changed her? He said she was supposed to be an example of the complete process, that you wanted him to be a part of it. And he talked about his actual daughters with me, so -”

“That was one of the reasons, yes.” She stepped away from the door and toward you, reaching out to settle her hand on your shoulder. “He’d spent so many years wavering over whether or not it was the right time, or the right person or the right choice. I wanted to show him that it was possible for him to turn someone without … in his words, dooming them,.” She sighed, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips before she continued. “But at the last minute, he changed his mind. I can’t blame him for that, or be upset by his decision. Our first should be someone special. But I admit it was disappointing. I thought that if he were to choose between Tyene and the other woman, he would have picked the other woman.” But he didn’t. “He chose neither, and so I went through with Tyene’s transformation, because at that point, I knew that I loved her and wanted her to be a part of my family. For many years, Oberyn remained with the two of us, and it was like an actual family.” That must have meant so much to him.

“He said that when you… change someone, you’re responsible for them for as long as they live.” She nodded. “So even though he didn’t change her, he still felt that way?”

“He did. He still feels that way. And because of that, it is my hope that when he does finally choose to give this gift to someone, what comes after won’t be as much of a shock for him because he’s already seen it.” Her hand was still on your shoulder but it slid slowly down your arm until she could take your hand, squeezing it. “But that isn’t what I brought you in here to talk about.” It’s not? “I’m going to take Oberyn out tonight.”

“Out?” She nodded. “Is it safe?”

“It is. I wouldn’t risk it otherwise.” You knew that she was telling the truth because you knew that Ellaria wouldn’t put Oberyn into danger after what she’d done for him. Or ever. “But he needs live blood. And there are plenty of places around to get it.”

“Am I staying here with Tyene, then?” Swallowing hard, you looked down. “I don’t want to inconvenience her, and -”

“She offered.” Ellaria said your name and you looked back up, her other hand rising to touch your face. “We are going to move from this safehouse in a day or so, though. This one has been in use for too long, and it’s too small for five people to comfortably stay in.” Five? But who… That shocked you, but you had to admit that the idea of a new place to stay was welcome. And maybe it’ll have a fully stocked kitchen.

“That’ll be nice, Ellaria. An extra bedroom means no one has to sleep on the couch.” And it means I won’t have to share a bed with Tyene. “Plus I’m sure that you and Oberyn are used to having a much larger bed than -”

“You assume he would sleep in the room with me and not you.” It was phrased as a statement though she gave you a questioning look. She dropped your hand and pulled her other one away from your face, shaking her head. “I thought you said you understood.”

“Ellaria, he flat out told me that before he and I sleep together he needs to go to bed with you because -”

“Because he needs to get it out of his system.” She nodded. “I figured as much, especially with how much of my blood he took, but that doesn’t mean that he will stay with me before or afterwards.” The woman leaned in, her smile widening. “I have had the pleasure of knowing Oberyn for more than two thousand years, and in those years, I have never balked at the idea of sharing him with others, human or otherwise. You are no exception. But believe me when I say that it’s good that he’s thinking of your safety. He is already strong because of his age, but with my blood and how much he cares for you?” She kissed your cheek, the smile on her lips evident. “It would be hard for him to rein it in, even though he knows he would have to.”

“He did say that you passed on your lust for life to him.” To your surprise, you were almost joking with her, Ellaria’s eyes filling with genuine amusement as she straightened up. “Does that include actual lust, too?”

“Oberyn Martell didn’t need any of that from me.” She makes a good point. She reached for your hand again, gesturing toward the door. “But that doesn’t mean that he didn’t get it. Now come on, let’s go and give him his present.”

Oberyn had been sitting on the couch with Tyene, the two talking animatedly about someone named Nymeria, but when you and Ellaria reentered the room, Tyene immediately stood and moved to the unoccupied armchair, sinking into it gracefully. “Come, sit.” Oberyn tapped on the space next to him, brown eyes locked on yours.

“I’m going to get something to drink and then I will. Do you need anything?” It was a stupid question because you knew that he didn’t need any of the food or beverages in the apartment, but it was habit. And good manners. He shook his head no and you turned toward the kitchen, trying to decide what you wanted.

“I actually brought you something else.” Ellaria cleared her throat. “I know that there’s coffee, but I also thought that you might want some actual caffeine. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I brought a few options for you.” She pointed at the bags on the table. “They’re in there.” Oh, fuck yeah. Quickly stepping to the table, you reached into the first bag, fingers closing around a cold, slim can. A Red Bull. This is like Christmas.

“Thank you, Ellaria.” You were grinning as you sat down on the couch next to Oberyn, the man’s arm automatically going around your shoulders as he pulled you closer. “Coffee’s great, but this is better.” Cracking open the can, the tart scent filled your nostrils. I wonder what it smells like to them.

“Of course.” The three of you watched as she made her way back to the crate, easily lifting it and carrying it to the table you and Oberyn had been playing cards on, setting it down with a quiet thunk. “Oberyn, I told you that Tyene was delayed because she was trying to find something.” He nodded as she pointed at the crate. “She was able to get it.” He shifted next to you, leaning closer. “I will admit that I am a little surprised, because even I did not know where it was, but she…” Ellaria turned her head toward Tyene, her smile softening further. “She did well.”

“What is it?” You heard the change in his voice, Oberyn sounding hopeful and curious at the same time. “What could -”

“Open it, Oberyn.” Tyene leaned forward, her hands hanging between her spread knees. “Getting it here was a fucking bitch and a half.” Even she looked and sounded excited, and you felt your heart rate quicken, too, knowing that the three of them were just as aware of the change in rhythm. He leaned over, pressing a kiss to your temple and then stood, bending forward and using his fingers to pry the lid off of the crate. When he set it down on the floor next to the table and saw what was inside, his eyes widened and his mouth fell open in something that looked like disbelief.

“This is a joke.” His voice dropped lower, and you could feel the emotion in it. “Ellaria, Tyene, this…” He glanced up, fingers curled over the top edge of the wood. “I…”

“It is no joke, my Prince.” Ellaria’s voice was quiet, too, and even though you didn’t want to, you tore your gaze away from Oberyn to look at her, the woman’s eyes shining as she stared at him. “Open it all the way.” He didn’t speak again, instead using both hands to break the crate down, discarding the pieces of wood next to the table to reveal a much smaller - and older box inside. The weathered surface was a deep red in color, and you shifted to get a better look, leaning so that you could see around Oberyn’s body. He paused before reaching in, his hands resting on the top of the box. You watched his shoulders sag as his head dropped down, lips moving though you couldn’t hear what he was saying. What the fuck is in this box?

When he removed the lid, he did so gently, turning around to set it on the couch next to you, and despite the fact that you only looked for a second or two, you saw the sigil on the top - so much like the one on his ring, but still different. That’s the original Martell sigil. The one from… You gasped as you realized that whatever was in the box had likely belonged to Oberyn, and from the time when he - or at the very least, the Martells from his era - had been living. But what is it? “Ellaria, this… I haven’t…” You’d rarely heard him speak so hesitantly, words stilted, and you couldn’t help reaching for him, briefly encircling his elbow with one hand and squeezing before you let go. “I have not seen this in hundreds of years. I didn’t think that it still -”

“You’d be surprised at how easy it is to get through museum security.” Tyene laughed, leaning forward. “And how much easier it is to replace the display pieces with the fakes in storage.” He smiled at that, reaching into the box with both hands, and when he lifted them back up, you couldn’t stop your gasp. That’s… I’ve seen that before, it …

“Do you know what this is?” Oberyn twisted his body at the waist, holding a sleek helmet between his large palms. “I am sure that you -”

“That’s your helmet.” Shifting forward, you had to stop yourself from reaching for it, fingers curling in toward your palms. “Your royal armor helmet, and that means -” He nodded, setting it down onto the table as gently as you’d ever seen him do anything before he dipped his hands back into the box. And that means that it’s got to be his armor in there, otherwise…

Your assumption was confirmed when Oberyn lifted the next piece item from the inside of the box; pauldrons stamped with a snakeskin print. It’s beautiful. He continued to remove the contents, taking a few moments to admire each of them before piling them on the couch next to him - a cuirass with the same scaled pattern, a long leather vest to go beneath that piece, stamped metallic vambraces, soft pants and an undershirt, leather boots that looked as though they’d reach to nearly his knees - and finally, a long leather belt complete with an attached scabbard. It’s all there. You covered your mouth with one hand, eyes wide.

“I thought that if you were going to end this once and for all, Oberyn? That you should have your armor to do it.” Ellaria stepped forward, reaching out to take his chin between her fingertips. “We could not get you your sword on such short notice. It wasn’t with this armor set in the museum, but …” She wet her lips, head shaking back and forth a few times. “There is one more thing in that box, my love.” He kissed her palm and then she withdrew her hand, the man reaching back into the container and pulling out a piece of cloth in the same yellow color as his robe. “You will have to reassemble it, but …” He groaned quietly, sinking back onto the cushion next to you, the man placing his face into his hands.

“Ellaria this is too much.” Peeking up, you saw that his eyes were shining. “It -”

“It’s not.” Tyene stood then, walking to the table and reaching into the box. “He caught you off guard once. And since you’re too damn stubborn to let any of us actually help you, next time, you need everything you’ve got.” She lifted a few long pieces of wood from the box and quickly screwed them together. There’s no way I’m seeing this right now. “And they might have cleaned this to ensure that anyone that handled it wouldn’t get poisoned, but …” She bent down again, pulling a spiked metal piece out and securing it to the bottom end of the wooden pole. “That’s easy enough to fix.” She grinned and the next thing she removed was a thick tassel, dark brown in color. Snake skin. That’s… “I’m not going to touch the blade, Oberyn. Because if I know you, you left it sharp, and two thousand years of careful museum upkeep won’t have changed that.” He chuckled at that, and when she tilted the tasseled end of the hilt toward him, Oberyn used both hands to lift a gleaming silver spear blade from the bottom of the box, carefully attaching it to the rest of the weapon with a few short twists.

It was beautiful all in one piece; you could see the grain of the wood, the intricate detailing in the golden viper that was coiled around the bottom of the blade, the perfectly smooth edges of the pointed end of the spear. I want to see him hold it. I want to see it in his hand, and I … You got your wish, Oberyn standing and reaching to take it from Tyene, his fingers wrapping around the middle of the wooden portion. “It feels good to hold this again.” He flexed his fingers, lifting it to test the weight. “It feels…”

“You’ll need to practice with it, Oberyn. So that you’re ready when the time comes to use it.” Ellaria stepped closer again, settling one hand on his shoulder. “I already told her, but we’re going to move from this apartment to a different building… probably tomorrow.” He nodded. “There is roof access there.”

“I don’t have my pendant, Ellaria. I can’t -”

“That’s what the moonlight is for, Oberyn.” She smiled again, that one sad, and then stepped away. “And speaking of moonlight, I think it’s time that you and I get going, don’t you?”

“Going? Where?” His grip tightened on the spear, though he frowned in confusion. “I don’t -”

“You need to drink from a live source. The bags only do so much.” She wet her lips. “You know I’m right, Oberyn. Your body is still healing, and that means the more you get now, the faster -”

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes and then turned away from her, leaning the spear against the wall in the corner next to the balcony door. “That sounds good.” When he turned away from the wall and toward Tyene, you froze, unsure of what he was going to say next, but to your surprise, Ellaria stepped in, wrapping her arms around the other woman from behind.

“She will be on her best behavior, Oberyn. I promise. The two of them are going to be good friends.” If you say so, Ellaria. You fidgeted on the couch, eyes moving between the three of them, but when Oberyn said your name, you didn’t hesitate to react, standing and crossing your arms over your chest as you waited for him to continue.

“Ask Tyene about her sisters.” His lips twitched as he fought back a smile. “And the way they all wanted me to train them to fight. It’s a good story.” The younger woman laughed almost immediately, the sound trailing off as Ellaria swore at Oberyn, her eyes narrowed as she scowled at him, and all you could do was agree. They really are a family.

The more you spoke to the woman, the more you liked Tyene. It wasn’t just the way her whole face seemed to light up when she talked about herself and her sisters training with Oberyn, or about the way that the three of them had grown to respect and trust each other in the few hundred years they’d all been together. It was also the way you could almost feel her love for both Ellaria and Oberyn, the way everything she said made you understand just how much she appreciated the gift she’d been given when Ellaria turned her.

“I didn’t have a family before. I was the last one left alive, and when Ellaria and Oberyn found me, I was lost.” She laughed, taking a swig out of one of the bottles of water from the refrigerator. “Pissed and ready to fight, but lost. She was the mother I never had, and he … he is the perfect example of never forgetting the things that matter. It’s a good example to set.” It is. And he’d never forget them. Ever.

“How long after you met them were you changed?” You knew that it was a more personal question, but if she didn’t want to answer, she wouldn’t have. “It sounds like the three of you got along really well from the beginning.”

“We did.” Tyene was draped over the armchair, the balcony door behind it wide open and letting the night air stream in. “But they waited fifteen months, because they wanted to make sure that I made my choice as an adult.vThey stayed in my town that whole time, and even though Oberyn was splitting his time between the two of us and the woman he was with, I never felt… neglected, and neither did Ellaria.”

“Wait, you don’t mean -”

“No, absolutely not.” She rolled her eyes. “That shit might have been happening with families like his when Ellaria turned him, but in all of the years I’ve known them, I’ve never had any interest in sleeping with either of them.”

“I thought that all of …you looked at your Children and the ones that they’re close to like potential partners. And that makes no sense now that I’m saying it out loud, but -”

“A lot of us do, but not all of us.” She sat straight up, tilting her head to one side. “And Nym and Obara are the same. We… I love them both very much, but not like that.” It was an important distinction for you, because it meant that even a relationship between someone and their Child could be platonic - love without the sexual aspect, a connection between two beings that wasn’t just about the physical, but instead the emotional pull between them. “At first, I was disappointed that Oberyn didn’t want to turn me. I thought that his final denial after all that time was the end of it, and that I’d have to say goodbye.”

“Ellaria wouldn’t have let that happen. Not from what he told me.” You were curled up on the couch, eyes on her. “And seeing the three of you together like this is already a lot to handle. If Oberyn had been the one… I can’t even imagine how close you would be.”

“Well if he’d changed me, we probably would have been here together.” She closed her eyes. “I don’t know what he’s told you about what happens after we turn, but… the process is different for everyone. There are some cases where it can take a long time to adjust, and an even longer time to settle. Four hundred years isn’t that long at all for us, and it’s actually a little less than that for me.” He did say that he was with Ellaria for a long time, but … “Since I wasn’t her first, Ellaria was able to sort of … match me with more of her Children. She picked ones that could help me to make the transition easier. I was able to walk in the daylight again after only 75 years, which is a little longer than it took Oberyn, but not as long as Obara.” Almost a century in the darkness.

“I didn’t realize that it could take that long.” You chewed on your lower lip briefly, averting your eyes. “I can’t imagine that.” It was the truth - you didn’t know how you’d react to losing the ability to go outside during the day, what the absence of the sunlight on your skin would make you feel. But it might be worth it. “That must have been hard.”

“It was. It helps a lot that for us, time is … different. It doesn’t pass in the same way it does for humans.” She frowned. “The first thing I did, though? When Ellaria gave this to me for good?” She reached up to touch the necklace that she wore, her fingers caressing the deep blue stone in the center. “I booked a month long trip to fucking Rio and I spent every daylight hour laying on a chair without an umbrella. It was incredible.” I wonder what Oberyn did.

Instead of asking that, preferring to hear the answer from him, you posed a different question. “How does that work? Did she just… give you the necklace and then send you off? How does she know when you’re ready?”

“Lots of tests and patience. It took a while for her to trust me. She traveled with me for a long time before she let me go by myself. Ellaria wanted to be there in case she needed to take it back, but I saw how happy Oberyn was in the sunlight, and I desperately wanted to be with them outside of the dark hours. Motivation is a lot of who we are, but it’s got to be for the right reason.”

“Makes sense.” You looked down again, unsure of what else to say, but Tyene saved you.

“He marked you.” You nodded in agreement, forcing yourself to meet her eyes. “That’s big for him.” I know. “Maybe this will finally be the time he decides to -” “It won’t.” You reached up, fingertips finding the spot on your neck. “He explained to me why he couldn’t, Tyene. And that’s fine. I’m going to enjoy my time with him for however long it lasts. At least I know that he’ll have you and Ellaria and your sisters long after -”

“His explanation for not turning anyone is going to be bullshit once he does what he’s here to do.” She leaned closer to you, eyes bright. “Once he gets justice for his family, that won’t be what drives him anymore.” That was true - and something that you’d thought about briefly, but it didn’t mean anything. I can’t assume it does. “And you’ve helped him so much. You’ve only known him for a little while, and I can see that he already -” “I wouldn’t want him to turn me out of guilt or some sort of feeling of obligation.” Rubbing at your eyes, you tilted your head back. “I don’t even know that I’d want him to turn me at all. I haven’t thought about it.” Much. “That’s a commitment. I have a life. I have a job and friends and …” You laughed. “And if you’re telling me it can take 75 years to settle? Everyone I care about will be gone by then.”

“Not everyone.” She was smiling at you, her eyes on your neck. “If you don’t think he’d do it, and wanted to be like us, I could turn you. You wouldn’t be my first, but I haven’t created many.” Did she just offer to… is that possible? “No. Thank you, Tyene, but no.” Your eyes landed on the Martell crate and the spear leaning against the wall next to it. “Like I said, I’m just going to enjoy the time I have with him, even if it’s only until this whole thing with the Lannisters is over.” But I hope it’s a little longer. “I don’t want to be anyone’s responsibility, you know? And after he’s done with all this, Oberyn deserves some time to … relax. Not just jump right into -”

“I spent a lot of time with Oberyn after Ellaria changed me. I saw what happened the last time he marked someone and then had to let them go.” She was frowning, her dark eyes sad. “I don’t want to see him like that again. He was … not Oberyn. For a long time.” I don’t know what that means, but … “The offer stands. If you decide that you want to become like us, I can and will change you.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You knew, though, that you wouldn’t be taking her up on it - and you had a feeling that she knew the same. If he didn’t change me, and I was still around, he’d hate that reminder. “I don’t want to do this to you, but I think I need to go lay down. I know that all I’ve done the last few days is sleep, but…” “That’s another perk of this life.” She grinned. “You don’t need to sleep.” You stood and stretched, pointing at the bedroom you’d been sleeping in as you grumbled under your breath. “I’ll keep watch. They shouldn’t be much longer, it’s already been a few hours.” Standing from the couch, you stepped toward the bedroom, but stopped and turned back to face the woman.

“Thank you. For staying here with me and for indulging my stupid questions. I know it’s none of my business, but -”

“When you wear that mark, everything having to do with Oberyn is your business. And they never would have left you with me if they wanted you to know nothing.” She grinned. “Not my style.” Tyene paused. “Also, about earlier, I’m sorry for how I came off, but … being a part of all this? With him? It’s not for the weak or the timid.” Tyene stood, taking one step toward you. “And you are neither.” And I’m not with him, either.

She said nothing else - instead, the woman turned and stepped through the door and out onto the balcony. She’s probably not used to saying such nice things about strangers. But her words were a comfort, the feeling of relief staying with you as you reentered the bedroom.

A few minutes later, you were changed for bed and tucked beneath your blankets, wishing for the first time in days that you still had your phone so that you could scroll aimlessly until you fell asleep. I shouldn’t have taken it for granted. But the weight of the day - and the conversations you’d had - made it impossible for you to remain awake once you’d settled in, especially since the faint scent of Oberyn’s skin lingered on your pillows.

You woke sometime later in complete darkness to the feeling of someone climbing into bed with you, the mattress dipping with added weight. Before you could worry about who it was, you heard him say your name, Oberyn’s lips pressing to the space behind your ear. I wasn’t expecting this. “Oberyn, why aren’t you with Ellaria?”

“She and Tyene will be sharing the other bed when they finally rest.” He sighed, an arm winding around your waist and pulling you back and into his chest. “And because I wanted to be here with you.” Warmth spread through you at that and you turned your head toward him, your cheek making contact with his chin.

“Did you eat?” You figured that he had - maybe even multiple times, and understood what that meant. You knew that in order to keep from attracting attention, he and Ellaria had likely needed to use methods that didn’t include dragging unsuspecting people into the shadows in order to feed. And that means he probably flirted. Maybe even more, even if it wasn’t actual sex.

“Yes.” He kissed you again, the man’s lips moving much closer to yours with every press of them. “From two people.” Two? “They are both safe and alive. Don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t.” You sighed again, focused on the way it felt to have him behind you in the dark, the weight of his arm comforting across your body. “And good. You needed it.”

“I did.” He went quiet for a few seconds, and then Oberyn continued. “Did you get along with Tyene? I told you she -” “Yeah.” Rolling so that you were facing him, you moved one hand to rest on his bicep. “She’s just protective of you, Oberyn. You and Ellaria. And I can’t blame her.” His hand was moving over your lower back, palm beneath the shirt you wore and pressed against your skin. “She offered to turn me if I wanted it.”

He froze momentarily - the man’s body going rigid. “Did she?” You felt the tightness in his voice, a sound you’d never heard from him before.

“She did. She brought up the mark on my neck, and said that maybe this would be the time you went through with changing someone over. And I immediately told her that you’d already explained why you couldn’t. But then she said that she doesn’t ever want to see you as upset as you were the last time you chose not to, so she offered.”

“And what was your response?” He was still rubbing your back, the motion meant to soothe you. “How did you answer?”

“I said no. I said that I didn’t even know if I’d want to be changed, and that I’d just enjoy the time I have with you while I can.” Wincing as you spoke, you wondered if he’d seen the movement. I’m sure he did. “Because I know you can’t… won’t do it yourself, Oberyn. And I’d never ask or expect you to.” Taking a deep breath, you kept speaking, hoping that you weren’t going to push him away. The mark on my neck says I won’t. “But mostly, Oberyn? I told her no because if that happens? If I become like you? I wouldn’t want anyone but you to do it.”

The room was entirely silent for longer than you expected - it could have been thirty seconds, it could have been a minute, but when he finally answered, his words took you by complete surprise. “I’m glad you feel that way, because there’s no one but myself that I would trust with you in that way.” He leaned closer, the man’s lips pressed against yours for long moments. “Now go back to sleep. Tomorrow is a busy day.”

You woke up to the gentle press of his lips on the back of your shoulder, and were immediately reminded of the dream you’d had the first night you spent with him - Oberyn pressed against you from behind, one arm around you and his mouth hungrily exploring your body. “I didn’t want to wake you up, but it’s time.” It’s not a dream.

Rolling over to face him, you opened your eyes and were greeted with the sight of Oberyn’s face a few inches from yours, his hair sleep-tousled and eyes bright. “This is a goddamn dream come true, Oberyn.” A look of confusion crossed his features briefly, but you spoke up before he could ask. “The first night we were here, I had a dream that I woke up in bed with you. But when I rolled over and opened my eyes, you weren’t here. I was alone, and …”

“Not today.” He was caressing your face, fingertips running over your cheek. “I’m right here.” You are. He kissed you then, mouth sealed over yours, the tip of his tongue dragging over the full part of your bottom lip. You didn’t waste any time, parting your lips and groaning as it slipped between them, Oberyn deepening the kiss without hesitation. I wish I could wake up like this every morning. It was him that pulled away first, the man’s eyes alight with desire. “I wish we could stay here, but we need to get ready to leave.” Oh.

“Where are we going? Another place like this?” You ran your fingers through the hair on the nape of his neck - much like you’d done in the dream - and waited for him to reply.

“I don’t know.” He sighed. “Tyene arranged it.” He was going to say something else, but before he got the chance, there was a knock on the door, followed by it opening and Ellaria peeking her head in.

Your first instinct was to pull away from Oberyn, lowering your hand, but his hold on you tightened, his eyes never leaving your face - so you stayed put, nodding enough so that he saw the movement before you shifted your gaze to the woman in the doorway. If he saw it, so did she. “I hate to interrupt, but we need to get going. You both need to get dressed.” Ellaria paused. “Pick something suitable for a business meeting to wear, and bring only what you need. The new apartment will be much better equipped than this one.”

With that she left, the door shutting behind her as Oberyn said your name to draw your gaze back to his face. “Bring your costume. I know that he ruined it, but it would be a shame for you to leave it behind.” I didn’t even think of that. “I’ll see you in a little while.” He kissed you again but it was a quick one and then he was gone, too, the door closing quietly behind him.

Giving yourself a few minutes to finish waking up, you rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling. A business meeting? Why? With who? That… That makes no sense. But instead of thinking about it for too long, you took a long breath and sat up, placing your feet flat on the ground. Alright closet, what do you have in there waiting for me?

Three and a half hours later, you and Ellaria stepped through the front door of an apartment much closer to the center of LA than the first had been, the woman pulling a small luggage cart behind her. And this one is … damn. It was much more in tune with what you assumed they were used to in terms of living standards, and you couldn’t help looking around you in awe. This is why we had to dress up, because we would have looked out of place otherwise. “It’s nice, isn’t it.” She had her arms crossed, slender fingers resting on her elbows. “Tyene did well.”

“She did.” You moved through the space, taking everything in. “After all that time in the other place, this seems like a palace. As much as I don’t want to stay hidden, it could be worse.” She laughed, the sound more of a huff than anything else, but Ellaria didn’t disagree. “And we’re safe here? You’re sure of it?” Turning away from the couches, you forced yourself to meet her eyes.

“Tyene would not have led me here if we wouldn’t be.” She lifted herself up onto the end of the dining room table closest to you, crossing her legs at the knee. “Do you want to choose a room now, or -” Gesturing with one hand, she tilted her head. “Or wait and see which one Oberyn would like?” He was right. “You look confused.”

“I am.” There was no reason to try and avoid the obvious, and so you chose not to. “Unless the two of you took care of things while you were out last night, he still needs to -”

“We didn’t.” She reached up, tucking one curl behind her ear. “Not in the way you are thinking, anyway.” What the hell does that mean? “And yes, he does need to release some of his strength, but that will not happen when anyone else is in the apartment.” What? Why? She said your name, holding a hand out to you. When you took it, she pulled you closer, uncrossing her legs so that you could stand between them. “I have been called cruel many times and by many people.” Ellaria smiled, the expression somewhat sad. “And it has certainly been true most of those times. But I would never be so cruel as to force you to listen to us together.” Oh. “The first time you hear Oberyn’s pleasure should be when you are the one responsible for it.” At that, your heart thudded in your chest, throat clicking as you attempted to swallow.

Her words stunned you, the woman never breaking eye contact as she said them. “I don’t… I don’t know how to respond to that, Ellaria. I don’t know what to -”

“You don’t need to say anything. I heard your reaction.” Her lips curved up and into a smile - one that you’d only seen her give to Oberyn - and she continued. “Besides, I have a feeling that I’m going to have my hands full for the next few days, anyway.” She squeezed your hand and then let it drop, gesturing to the bedrooms with her chin. “Go. Choose a room. Oberyn and Tyene will be here within the hour.”

It actually took less time than that for the two of them to arrive, the pair slipping in through the second entrance just as you stretched out on one of the couches, Ellaria curled up on the other, her eyes on the TV. Tyene’s voice cut through the open space, the woman apologizing profusely for being late. But they’re early, they …

Oberyn was a few steps behind her, fingers wrapped around the handle of his own luggage cart, and his eyes on the back of Tyene’s head. “It took us forever. I always forget how bad traffic here is, and Oberyn didn’t help much because he just kept talking to the Uber driver, and so he missed a turn. But at least we’re still here before - ”

“I was just being friendly.” He let go of the luggage and wound an arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of Tyene’s head. “Playing the part, you know?” Even you had to grin at that, glancing down at the new clothes you wore; dress pants and button-up blouse discarded in the bedroom that you’d chosen. “If we were all supposed to dress like we were in the middle of another workday and on our way between meetings, why not talk like it, too?” Of course he couldn’t stay quiet.

“You’re right on time.” Ellaria stood, crossing the room toward where they stood. “And now that we’re all here, Tyene, it’s time for you to tell us exactly what else you’ve found, and what the next steps are.” You agreed there, pushing yourself up into a sitting position and eyeing her first and then Oberyn - but he looked curious too. So none of us know.

“That’s why we had to be back here before a specific time.” She looked at the clock hanging on the wall, smiling. “And we are. Cut it close, but…” Tyene used one hand to swipe through her hair. “I need to change out of these clothes, and then I’ll tell you all what’s going on.” Good. “You should change too, Oberyn. Relax, get ready for -”

“I’m alright.” He’d loosened the top few buttons of his dress shirt and taken his jacket off, draping it over one of the armchairs. “Just ready to know what -” He interrupted himself, whipping around to face the door at the same time Ellaria rose from the couch, one hand going over her mouth. What’s going on? Why did they… who’s coming? You were frightened for a few seconds, but the fear dissipated at the way Ellaria seemed to glide toward the door, Oberyn’s jaw tightening as he watched her. I’ve never seen that before.

The expression passed quickly, though, and he reached for you, fingers spread wide as he waited for you to take his hand. He pulled you close as Tyene and Ellaria disappeared down the hallway, but made no move to follow them, instead choosing to stay with you, fingers linked together. Whatever this is it’s got to be huge.

You heard your name a few seconds later, the sound of Ellaria’s voice reaching your ears as she reentered the main room, her hand holding another man’s tightly and the look in her eyes one of pure elation. Who is that? He was taller than Oberyn, the man dressed simply in a pair of dark jeans and a t-shirt, his hair combed back from his face, curling slightly at the ends. He was handsome, neatly trimmed facial hair that covered his cheeks and chin, bright green eyes that looked at nothing but the woman next to him, even as Oberyn’s focus remained on him. “There is someone that I’d like you to meet.” Me? Why? “This is Toban Dayne, the first of my Children and my oldest friend.”

It made sense immediately - Oberyn’s reaction to the appearance of the man, his inability to look away. He wants what they have, and seeing this, them together … it can’t be easy for him. Squeezing his fingers once more, you cleared your throat to steady yourself. “Dayne? Does that mean that you’re from the -”

“It does.” He grinned at you, finally looking away from Ellaria. “One of the First Men, Lord of Starfall, Sword of the Morning and all that.” He stood taller, his eyes flicking to Oberyn and then back to you.”But that was so long ago that none of it really matters anymore.” He pulled his hand out of Ellaria’s and stepped toward where you stood, but his focus shifted back to the man that you were next to, one arm extending with his fingers outstretched. “Oberyn. It’s been way too long. I’m sorry that it took this to get us in the same room again.”

“Why are you here?” His voice wasn’t quite cold but it was uncertain, and you saw Ellaria freeze at the sound of it, her lips parting slightly. “I haven’t seen you in -” Oh, I’m going to need him to explain this later. He said he was never jealous of anyone that Ellaria was with, but this … this is different.

“I’m here to help you, Oberyn.” Toban’s voice dropped, the man stepping even closer without lowering his hand. “I think we all are.” We are. “Tyene told me -”

“I told him that if we had any chance to actually beat Clegane and get to Tywin and Cersei, we’d need a lot of power.” Tyene reappeared in the hallway, though she stopped before she entered the room, the four of you turning to face her, Toban’s hand dropping back to his side. “A lot of power and a plan, and now we have both.” How? You knew that because he was ancient, Toban was a good ally - he’d be stronger than most, attuned to Ellaria in a way that not even her other Children were. But that doesn’t get us close to the Lannisters. It just sets us up.

“Tyene, I’m going to need more information.” Ellaria shifted, turning to face the other woman. ‘This isn’t -”

“I found us … well you and Oberyn, anyway, a way into a very public place with the Lannisters.” What? “That little shitstain Joffrey is getting married, and the engagement party this weekend is a fucking tabloid event. There are going to be tons of celebrities there, all kinds of cameras. It’s a perfect way for you to let them know that you didn’t die, Oberyn, and that you’re healed.” She was beaming, the woman nearly bouncing as she spoke. “They can’t touch you in front of all those people, but you being there together will scare the shit out of them, and it gives us an advantage.” That… that actually works. It makes sense.

“But how do we get in?” Oberyn scratched the side of his head, frowning. “This is a great plan, but -”

“That, Oberyn Martell, is where I come in.” Tyene stepped to the side, the smile on her face turning smug, and you couldn’t stop the gasp from leaving your lips at the sight of the newest person to enter the room. There’s no fucking way. Oberyn said history repeats itself, but … “If there’s anyone that wants to see my sister and my father suffer as much as you do, it’s me.” He pressed his lips together, tilting his chin up and nodding once at the man standing next to you before bending into an exaggerated bow. “Tyrion Lannister, at your service.”

Tag list post coming separately!

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x female reader #pedrostories #pedro pascal character #oberyn x female reader #oberyn x you #oberyn martell the red viper #got fic #game of thrones #oberyn martell fic #oberyn martell vampire au #game of thrones au #cowritten with rachael #something tofightfor

129 notes · View notes

something-tofightfor · 3 years

Text

Aphelion: Masterlist

* Banner made by @valkblue

* Divider by @firefly-graphics

Most recent update: Part 11 - October 27, 2023

Cowritten by @something-tofightfor and @the-blind-assassin-12

Summary: Oberyn Martell has one goal and one goal only: making the Lannisters and their inner circle pay for the murders of his sister Elia and her two children. But what happens when instead of taking the opportunity to do so immediately ... he waits a few thousand years - until the time is right?

The Lannisters aren’t in King’s Landing anymore - but neither is Oberyn, and he’s got something else in his favor: a gift from Ellaria Sand, a woman that was much more than she appeared to be at first glance.

Securing his future becomes even more important after Oberyn meets you and discovers that there’s much more to life than a thirst for vengeance ... and that even though times have changed, there are people out there that approach life the same way that he’s always tried to.

- No use of “Y/N”

- Female reader

- * denotes chapters with explicit NSFW content (Individual chapters have detailed warnings)

Rating (as of part 10): NSFW - Mentions of canon-typical violence, blood and gore, sex, drinking, character death, revenge, Oberyn being charming, smut ** see individual chapters for relevant warnings**

Intro (4.9k words) / Moodboard (by @/versatileginger)

Part 1 (6.5k words)

Part 2 (6.6k words)

Part 3 (8.5k words)

Part 4 (7.6k words)

Part 5 (14.1k words)* (sort of)

Part 6 (9.5k words)

Part 7 (10.9k words)

Part 8 (11.6k words)* (sort of)

Part 9 (12.5k words)*

Part 10 (14.9k)

Part 11 (16.7k)*

... TBA

Spotify Playlist

Misc. Aphelion:

Under the Dornish Moon - Oberyn (2.4k words) - June Drabble; Oberyn x Ellaria

Under the Dornish Moon - Ellaria (2.0k words) - June Drabble; Oberyn x Ellaria

Oberyn + A Kiss in the Rain (2.3k; set after part 11) - 2023 Summer Kiss prompt request

357 notes · View notes

something-tofightfor · 2 years

Text

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!

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x female reader #pedrostories #pedro pascal #oberyn x female reader #aphelion #aphelion masterlist #oberyn martell fic #game of thrones #game of thrones au #cowritten with Alyssa #the-blind-assassin-12 #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal masterlist #oberyn martell vampire au

91 notes · View notes

something-tofightfor · 3 years

Text

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.

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x female reader #pedro pascal character #pedrostories #pedro pascal #oberyn martell fic #Oberyn Martell: Aphelion #game of thrones fic #cowritten with Alyssa #aphelion #game of thrones

99 notes · View notes

the-blind-assassin-12 · 3 years

Text

Aphelion - 5

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

Word Count: 14,166 (a whole doozy!)

A/N: Hi friends, happy Wednesday Thursday. (Yeah this is a delete/repost because the tags were broken so if you saw this last night...no you didn’t.) First of all we wanted to thank everyone for their support on this story. It has been so much fun for us to write and equally fun to see your thoughts, reactions, and feedback! You are all gems, and we appreciate you the most. @something-tofightfor and I are PUMPED to share the next part of Aphelion with you. We have been teasing that the story was going to start gaining speed, and not only does this part ramp things up, its also the longest chapter yet and FULL of the things we have been dying to include. So please buckle up, grab a snack and ENJOY!

If you need to catch up on the story, the Aphelion Masterlist can be found on both of our main masterlists.

Also, if you have any 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.

*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: blood, serious injury, self harm, discussion of death, mentions of poison and murder, talk of the past, vampires and other such supernatural things

Summary: Waking up the morning after the encounter with Gregor in the alley, you finally start to gets some answers to the questions that have been burning holes in your brain- about Oberyn, the wound he sustained, the creature that gave it to him, and the sinister motivation behind the attacks happening throughout the city. The two of you start to discuss what will happen next, but with Oberyn still recovering from his injury and the Mountain’s whereabouts unknown, the future is still very uncertain for both of you. When you realize that your offer to save him might not be enough...well, desperate times call for desperate measures.

(banner made by @valkblue & divides by @firefly-graphics )

Oberyn was in bed with you. Not only that, you could feel that the man’s arms were around you, encircling you from behind. When did he…

The realization didn’t upset you - instead, you found yourself pushing backwards against his chest, turning your head just enough so that he could fit the lower half of his face into the space where your neck curved to meet your shoulder. “I woke you.” Murmuring the words against the skin of your throat, the man sighed. “I did not intend to -”

“It’s okay.” At your reply, he tightened his hold, lips moving over the back of your shoulder. Wait, how is … I went to sleep wearing clothes. But you weren’t wearing a shirt anymore, and neither was he - you could feel him against your body, the skin on skin contact both comforting and terrifying at the same time. You weren’t scared of him, or of what he was - you were afraid of how quickly things were moving, of how much you wanted them to keep barreling forward. “Oberyn, you… fuck that feels good.”

It was pointless to speak. You knew that he would have stopped trailing kisses over your shoulder and the back of your arm if you’d asked him to, but you didn’t want him to. Instead, you reached back with one hand, bending your elbow and running your fingers through his hair, urging him to continue. He did promise me he would prove it. With a sigh, you shifted your hips in reverse, feeling that he was completely naked, the pair of pants that you were wearing the only thing separating the two of you.

Letting out a surprised “oh” at the realization and tightening the hold you had on his soft curls, you paused. Oberyn smiled against your skin, one of his hands at the front of your body sliding up between your breasts, and the small motion was enough. Making a choice, you took a deep breath in and rolled over to face him, finally opening your eyes.

Instead of seeing Oberyn, you were greeted with pale light leaking in around the edges of the curtains, the room empty aside from you. It was a dream? Blinking quickly, you reached up to rub at your eyes. As you did so, you winced at the lingering pain in your arm. Ow. Pulling yourself into a sitting positon with the blanket pooled around your waist, you looked down, realizing that you were in fact still completely dressed in the same outfit that you’d gone to sleep in, and the bandages that the man had applied were firmly in place. It was a dream.

It disappointed you more than you cared to admit, but as you pulled the blankets from your body and moved to get out of the bed, you tried to convince yourself that it was only natural. He’s good looking. He likes me. He said he … how could I not be attracted to him? The moment your feet hit the floor and you stood, you realized that despite the significant amount of sleep you’d gotten - nearly 7 hours, if the small clock on the side table was telling the truth - you still felt off from the blood he’d taken. But I’d give it again, no questions asked.

You had no problem making it to the bathroom, and by the time you were brushing your teeth with a fresh toothbrush and tube of toothpaste a few minutes later, you were thinking more clearly. I need to eat . Eyeing yourself in the mirror, you frowned around the toothbrush. And I need to do something about the way I look. You were almost positive that to Oberyn, it didn’t matter what you looked like - the two of you were technically in hiding - but despite the fact that he’d been more than open about his attraction to you both before and after you’d met the man in the alley, you didn’t want to look like you’d just woken up in a strange bed in a barren apartment the first time you saw him that morning. Deciding to do as he’d told you and make yourself at home, you began to look through the medicine cabinet and drawers, finding that they were both fully stocked with a variety of unused, sealed items for both men and women. I really need to ask him about this.

Shrugging, you utilized the products - carefully washing your face to remove the last of your remaining makeup, using lotion on the back of one arm, where there was another small abrasion from the brick wall and finally finger combing your hair to tame it before tying it back to keep it out of your face. here was makeup in the drawers, too, but you ignored it, deciding that you didn’t want to look like you were trying too hard. For that same reason, you also chose not to change out of your pajamas before quietly heading into the main part of the apartment, deciding that the first thing you needed to do was find something to eat.

It was still dark in the living room, and though your first instinct was to pull the blinds open to let light in, you didn’t, instead turning on the overhead one in the kitchen. He was outside in the light at that bar, but I don’t … if he’s still weak, he might not… That was something else that you needed to ask the man when you saw him next, even though it was added to an already extensive list.

Thankfully, there was coffee in a can in one cupboard, along with a jar of peanut butter, and you pulled both out, setting them down on the counter. Ok, so this is better than nothing. While you waited for the coffee pot to brew, you opened the refrigerator door, peering in. He wasn’t … kidding. It was almost completely empty - a few more bottles of the same thing he’d given you to drink on the top shelf, bottled water on the lower one, and three cans of Sprite in one of the door’s shelves. Your stomach growled when you turned toward the other side of the kitchen, pulling those cabinets open, too, and you nearly groaned in relief when you saw that there were actual food items in that cupboard.

That might be an overstatement, though. “Did you find something to eat?” At the sound of his voice, you froze, the timbre of it no different than it had been in your dream, though hearing it suddenly again shook you. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t.” Fingers closing around one of the packages, you pulled it from the cupboard and turned to face him, mentally preparing for what you’d see. “And yeah, there’s… some stuff here. Not much, and it won’t last more than a day or two, but …” You held up a half full sleeve of rice cakes like a prize. “I’ve got breakfast. And there’s coffee, so it’s better than nothing.”

“Someone is supposed to replenish the supplies every few months, but it looks like this apartment was overlooked.” His eyes never left you as he spoke, and you took it as an open invitation to stare back, taking in the sight of the man without shame. “I’ll deal with that later.”

“Is this … a safehouse, Oberyn?” A single nod was confirmation from him, and so you asked him another question. That’s why it looks like no one lives here… because no one does. “Do you have them everywhere?”

“Not everywhere.” He shook his head, the short, tousled locks making him look younger. “In many major cities, yes. Both coasts of the United States, but we… I have not been to Los Angeles in a very long time, and it looks like no one else has, either.” He paused, brow furrowing. “I came back somewhat suddenly and wasn’t even staying here, so…” So this really is a last option.

That scared you. In fact, the admission that the man had felt so strongly that he couldn’t go back to the place he’d been staying and instead opted for an unused, understocked apartment chilled you to the bone. Because it means he was desperate.

Jolted out of your thoughts by the hiss of the coffee pot as it finished brewing, you shook your head to clear it. “I have so many questions. So many things to ask, and I don’t even know where to start.” He fought back a small smile but stayed quiet, waiting. “But the first thing I need to know is how you feel. Because you look much -” “The wound is still not completely healed.” He met your eyes, the smile gone. “But sleep helped.” He lifted a hand, eyes still on you. “Yes. We sleep. It’s more like a … recovery period than anything else. It’s not like you sleeping.” That eliminated one question, and your eyes flicked down as he spoke, the fact that his shirt was still clean and dry encouraging you. “I feel… alright.” That concerned you; it wasn’t the same as his I feel better from the night before, but you tried to stay positive because it also wasn’t an indication that the man felt worse. “Eat. Please. You need it.” He gestured to the coffee pot. “I hope that there are two mugs.”

Twenty minutes later, a few more of your questions had been answered without you even having to ask them. Oberyn had downed a cup of coffee along with you, explaining that while he didn’t need to eat or drink, he enjoyed it, because it reminded him of before , when he’d been human. That made sense to you. Prince Oberyn Martell had been known for indulging, and food and drink for him were near the top of that list. If I believe what I read, anyway.

He’d come to Los Angeles from London two weeks earlier, when the pattern of attacks occuring in the city had caught his attention. But despite his careful research, Gregor’s methodology for choosing victims had eluded him, and he’d always been at least a few hours behind the man. But he isn’t even a man, if what Oberyn’s saying is true. You had no reason to doubt his words, and with the knowledge that the impossible was actually possible, you chose to believe him.

“When I lived , Gregor Clegane was nothing more than a Lannister lapdog.” He held the coffee mug between his long fingers as he sat next to you on the couch. “He answered to Tywin, of course, but was also very loyal to Queen Cersei. She needed him more, because…” Oberyn glanced down at his hands and then back over at you, the sadness in his eyes nearly palpable. “Tywin Lannister was a cruel man, but in his mind, his ruthlessness always served a purpose. Cersei Lannister … her cruelty was driven by her desire to see others suffer.”

That also tracked with what you knew about Westerosi history and politics, but it didn’t explain how or why Gregor was in Los Angeles thousands of years later. “You knew his name, and he knew yours. If you haven’t seen him in … how is it him?”

“What do you know of me?” He cocked his head to the side, lips pressed together in a pout that you knew you’d never get tired of looking at. “Of my life? Not what we talked about last night, but of who I am?” What is he asking? Unsure of where to begin, you just decided to start talking, making sure to swallow the last of the peanut butter that you’d licked from your fingers before you did.

“Dorne fascinates me, Oberyn. It seems like it was so different from the other regions in just about every way.” The sadness was still there, but he was watching you with interest, too, completely focused on what you were saying in a way that no one else had ever been. “It … don’t take this the wrong way, but your story was only one of many that I studied, so I don’t know everything, but …” Thinking for a few seconds, you started speaking, hoping that you didn’t offend him with what you said. “You had a chance to travel when you were young. You spent time at the Citadel, but left before you could complete training to spend time in Essos. You were justified in your feelings toward The Lannisters and the Targ-”

“It is untrue.” He interrupted you, tone firm but not upset, and you fell silent immediately to listen. “What they say about me and The Targaryens?” He shifted, leaning closer. “I was angry with them, particularly with Rhaegar for abandoning my sister… but that was before I knew.” Knew what? “He did not abandon her. He did not desert her. He was honest with Elia, and she accepted it. The Dornish understand what it means to love someone completely, and Elia knew that Rhaegar felt that way about Lyanna Stark.” Oberyn inhaled deeply, steadying himself. “It was she that suggested he take the Stark girl to the Red Mountains, because Elia knew they would be safe there.”

Those facts had been nowhere in the books you’d read or the documentaries you’d watched. That changes everything. That means… “But… he could have protected her, Oberyn. If he hadn’t left King’s Landing, hadn’t -” “Nothing could have protected her.” His lip was curled. “My sister and her children were not killed because of their relation to Rhaegar Targaryen.” He met your eyes again, both of his blazing. “They were killed because she was seeking - and had found - something that the fucking Lannisters knew they could never have.” He went quiet, though his expression was anything but calm, and you continued to put the pieces together. Gregor killed them. Gregor killed them for the Lannisters. And then… Oberyn…

“She found one of you, didn’t she. She found…” Someone like you. Someone immortal. Someone… “How did they know, Oberyn? That isn’t something -” “There are no secrets in the Red Keep.” He laughed, the sound short and bitter. “She trusted the wrong person, maybe only once. But that’s all that was needed.” You reached for him, then, your hand landing on his knee and squeezing as you moved closer. “I found her. Likely only minutes after… after she was gone.” You couldn’t imagine that - what the man had seen, what he’d felt. And though you didn’t know him well, you could tell that he’d carried those feelings with him throughout his entire existence. “After I turn sad, I grow angry. And in those moments, I wanted nothing more than the chance to get back at Gregor Clegane and Tywin Fucking Lannister and everyone involved.” He placed a hand over yours, saying your name. “I just didn’t know I would have to wait more than two thousand years to get it.”

Hearing him say it - aging himself, confirming what you already knew - sent a shudder through your body, but you didn’t look away, knowing that if you did, he’d stop talking. And he can’t. Not when he’s telling me so much. “But it’s not actually them, is it? They’re all -” Dead, right? He sighed, eyes trained on his hand where it still covered yours. “Our Maesters were very talented - capable of many things. Clegane is … the same, somehow. He is still the man that murdered my sister and her children and so many others. He is a protector, like I said before, serving them as he’s told.” So he’s immortal, too. Wonderful. “They want what I have, what my… what Ellaria has. They have never stopped searching for us, and while my kind disagree on many things, it is common knowledge that there are none among us that wish to align with the Lannisters or give them what they want.”

“Good.” It slipped out, but you meant it. “I mean Golden Lion has always been really great to me, and I love my job, but -” “That is because Tyrion Lannister is in charge right now.” Oberyn actually smiled at that, the expression genuine. “Sometimes I suspect that he is only half Lannister blood, and that’s why he’s tolerable.” But if they’re not the same, then how is he -

“History repeats itself.” He wet his lips, leaning closer. “Centuries will pass without incident, Gregor remains hidden, and the Lannisters in charge of Golden Lion carry on, the names and faces different from those I knew. They know very little of what truly exists in this world, because they are true ancestors of the Lannisters. I live this life as I want to, enjoying what the world has to offer. And then, suddenly I am confronted with faces and people that I recognize, the Lannisters from my time reborn and almost … taunting me. They are the same as they were back then in both face and memory. During these times?” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m reminded that it should not have taken me so long to avenge my family. I see them, and I know that Clegane is out there, somewhere, doing these things to draw my attention.”

“This is all for you? These murders? They’re trying to -” “Yes.” You didn’t know what to say, but Oberyn saved you the trouble. “The victims are always found with injuries similar to those of Elia and the children. They want to draw me out, because they want …” “They want what Ellaria gave you.” He nodded, his fingers flexing over yours at the sound of the woman’s name. “But how? Is it reincarnation? Is it -” “That I cannot answer. I just know what I see. A Maester made it possible for The Mountain to survive this long. I believe that it was done specifically because they believed me to still be alive and knew that the distraction of my anger with him would be the only possible chance they’d have to beat me. But … you call it magic. We called them ‘the higher mysteries’.” You felt your eyes widen, recalling the few scattered documents you’d come across that mentioned the higher mysteries. But I always assumed that was all… that it wasn’t real. For what could have been the twelve hundredth time in twenty four hours, you told yourself to forget what you thought you knew as he continued. “Something was done to the Lannister bloodline, and whatever it was … it did this .”

They thought he was still alive. That’s why they wanted me to look for… Using the hand that wasn’t on his leg, you reached for Oberyn’s torso, two fingers pausing just before you touched the shape of the pendant beneath his shirt.

“One of my first assignments with Golden Lion was to look into royal jewelry collections. Your pendant, Oberyn, was one of the specific pieces marked as lost, but it was highlighted. The company seemed to think that it … still existed, and that it could be found.” And not just some knock-off on Etsy.

“If they found it, they found me.” It was the simplest answer, yet hearing it still shocked you. “I am never without it. But I didn’t know that it was one of the things they…” He moved closer to you, pulling his hand out from yours and then using it to urge the one you’d lifted closer to his chest, your palm against the large piece of gold. “You’ve given me an advantage. I don’t know how to use it yet, but … thank you.” He tugged on your hand and brought it to his lips, pressing them to the back, just above your knuckles. “I know this is a lot to take in. Are you alright?”

“No, not really.” You scoffed, feeling his fingers tighten around yours. “But I will be, because there’s no other option. I can’t just pretend that none of this has happened, or that I didn’t watch a wound heal on your stomach last night, or that everything you’re saying would only make sense if it’s all true, so…” He let go of your hand, and you dropped it back to your lap, lacing your fingers together and staring down at them. “I can’t go home, can I.”

“No.” It was matter of fact, his tone even. “You cannot. When he wakes up, Gregor will report back to the Lannisters, and it won’t take long to check security footage. They’ll see you with me. They’ll identify you.” My apartment, it… “They’ll send people to your home, discreetly. That’s how they do things now. It’s not like it was before. With the exception of Gregor, they no longer get their hands dirty in public.”

A sickening realization sent a cold spear through your heart and you sucked in a breath, looking up. Shit. “I have pictures up, Oberyn. Of my family and friends. Of the people I care about. What if -”

“They won’t need your apartment to find those things out once they have your name.” He reached for you, the man’s fingers sliding over your joined hands and urging them apart so that he could take one. “They will wait to see what you do next, where you end up. If you do not turn up? They will know you were with me. And if you do turn up… they will also know that you were with me.” Though you were terrified - more for the other people in your life than yourself - you found yourself calming with each word he said. He hasn’t lied to me yet. And with the way he is with the people he cares about? He wouldn’t. He… “So, no. You cannot go home yet. But when this is over?” Oberyn closed his eyes, nodding. “Your apartment will once again be safe for you. I swear it.”

“So how long do I … how long will I be here? I have work on Monday, I can’t just lose my job, I -” Does it matter? How can I go back to work for them? “I can’t go back to work, either.” That realization hit you harder than you thought it would, and you couldn’t stop yourself from pulling free from his hold, covering your face with both hands as you sobbed into them. My life is going to be different. I won’t have a job. Who knows how long we have to be here. He’s going to get better and do whatever it is he’s going to do, and then I’m going to…

You cried harder at that, your entire body shaking, but Oberyn stayed still on the couch next to you. Everything I’ve worked for is gone. I’m going to have to move, I’m going to have to start over, I…

“They will be looking for a body.” He spoke quietly, drawing your attention with only a few words. When you met his eyes again, you could only imagine what you looked like - yours likely red-rimmed and swollen, cheeks damp, but Oberyn didn’t look away. “Your body.”

“What?” You squeaked the word out, whipping your head back and forth. “They think that you’d… that you would kill me?”

“Many of us would, when faced with an injury like mine.” He sighed. “Not all of us are known for having self control, and we’ve… survival is very important to us. I think you’ll have some extra time - from the Lannisters themselves - while they attempt to find out what has happened to you.” Oberyn pressed his lips together before taking the lower one between his teeth. “Finding your body would mean that I took what I needed from you to survive, and they’d know that I’d crossed that line again.” Again? “Not finding you means one of two things; either that you’re hiding because you’re scared, or that I’m keeping you somewhere.” You thought for a few moments, taking deep breaths as you tried to steady yourself, and then frowned.

“How often do you need to … eat?” You didn’t know exactly what time it was, but you could tell that the angle of sunlight coming through the blinds was changing, which meant that it was likely late afternoon. “Normally, I mean, not when you’re…” “Because of my age, I can go a lot longer than most. I like to feed at least twice a week. I can stretch it to five or six days if necessary. I’ve gone as long as two weeks in extreme circumstances. I will not die without eating, but I get … weak. Restless.” He shrugged. “I cannot help my nature.” “But this isn’t normal circumstances. And you didn’t … you couldn’t …” Just say it. “You took less from me last night than you wanted to, Oberyn. That means that you’ll need more sooner, and I… there’s not really food for me here, and so I can’t -” “I do not expect you to let me drink from you again.” There was an edge to his voice then, but it wasn’t because he was angry at you. You got the feeling that his agitation stemmed more from the situation that you both were in than it did from your inability to give as much as he needed. “I need one more day, and then I can … go out and find someone.” How will you choose? Just some random person on the street? Another woman that … You felt a spark of something at the thought of him charming someone else with his smile and his voice, drawing them in and then feeding on them the way he had you the night before, but you couldn’t quite identify it. Would he touch them the same way? You recalled the gentle swipes of his thumb over your skin, the light kisses he left on the inside of your forearm. Ease them through it? Do they have to offer, or does he just … You shook your head. It doesn’t matter. He can’t just leave.

“But it’s not safe. It’s not safe for you to go out. What if something happens, Oberyn? What if someone sees you, or if you’re -” He smiled at that - a small one, but it lit up his face nonetheless before he looked away from you, eyes on the darkened screen of the TV across the room. “I am not your concern. This is not your mess, and it’s not up to you to fix it for me. The Lannisters set this into motion thousands of years ago when they sent Clegane to murder my sister and her children. You’ve already done more for me than I deserve.” He believes that. He really believes that.

“I’m involved now, Oberyn. But you know what?” You leaned closer, using your hand to turn his head toward you again, needing him to see that you were telling him the truth. “I don’t regret it. I don’t regret having that drink with you the other day, or talking to you at the party, or distracting him last night so that you could get us out of there.” There was confusion in his eyes, the man’s lips parting slightly as he listened to you. “If we’re going to be here together for at least the next few days, please let me help you. I want to help you. I don’t know what exactly I can do, but I -”

He’d moved without you noticing, one of his hands resting on your side, the fingers of the other trailing up and over your arm. “You are already helping me.” Moving closer, his lips twitched into a brief smile before his expression smoothed out. “More than you know.” You’d seen it coming, but his kiss took you by surprise nonetheless - the man’s exhale fanning over your lips before they connected with his. But unlike the previous night, he didn’t pull away quickly, instead moving closer to you without breaking the connection.

You wanted it - wanted him, wanted to turn completely toward him and let whatever happened happen, but instead of giving in, you lowered your hand to his shoulder, curling your fingers around it before kissing him back, the edges of your teeth grazing his bottom lip as you moved with him. I want to help you, Oberyn. But that’s not why I want this.

It was you that took the first step - the tip of your tongue prodding at the slight opening between his lips, the man reacting without pause to welcome it into his mouth and meet it with his own. But from there, Oberyn took over. His grip tightened where he touched you, though it wasn’t painful despite the strength you knew he possessed. You were wary of putting your hands on him, because you didn’t know just how healed he was. I don’t want to hurt him. That worry was silenced when the man pulled you closer though, effortlessly moving you over the cushion and toward him, so you stopped being so concerned and let yourself get lost in his kiss, your other hand pressed to his chest.

You’d never been kissed the way that Oberyn kissed you. The confidence coming from him would have made you weak in the knees if you’d been standing, and it was almost as though you knew each other well instead of having met for the first time barely a week prior. He eventually pulled away slightly, your lower lip caught between both of his, and at your confused hum, he finally spoke, mumbling words almost too quietly for you to hear. “One of us still has to breathe, here.” You began to laugh, but before the sound had fully left you, he was kissing you again, taking you by surprise and urging you onto his lap as he leaned back against the arm of the couch. “You won’t hurt me,” he continued as he kissed his way across your chin and then returned to your mouth. “Relax.”

You did, letting your weight settle atop Oberyn’s body, his hands moving around to your back and then stopping. He wasn’t exploring - instead, it seemed like he was just trying to reassure himself that you were there , but it didn’t change the way his mouth felt or diminish the drag of his beard as it moved over your skin. I want him. Even with what I know and what’s happened, I … Releasing the remainder of your breath through your nose as you had the thought, you relaxed further against the man’s body, the outline of his pendant pressed against your chest.

You had no idea how long the two of you stayed like that - the position not really allowing you to explore his body with your hands, though he did work one of his beneath the fabric of your shirt to press it against the small of your back - but it wasn’t long enough.

When he ended the kiss, whispering your name, you were disappointed, and if he’d asked, you would have admitted as much. He probably knows anyway. But looking down and into the man’s deep brown eyes, you also knew that there was a chance it would have to be enough. Because despite his promises to prove himself to you in the bedroom, there was no guarantee that it would ever get that far. Because he doesn’t owe me. He doesn’t … A second thought crossed your mind then, making you feel worse than the first. We might not get that much time together.

“What are you thinking?” He lifted a hand, brushing his knuckles over your temple and then down, skating the fullest part of your cheek. “I can say with certainty that I’ve never seen that look on someone’s face after I’ve finished kissing them.” His accent was back - thick and deep, the real Oberyn Martell right in front of you, almost like he’d stepped out of a history book.

“Are you doing this with me because of… because I offered myself to you last night?” The man’s eyes widened, disbelief filling them. “Because you don’t have to -”

“If I did not want to be here with you, right now, like this, I wouldn’t be.” He sat up, easing you into a sitting position again. Moving his fingers down your arm and toward your elbow, he watched as he pressed his thumb over the spot he’d sunk his teeth into. “The gift you gave me last night has nothing to do with it.” He looked up again, brow furrowed for a moment before he broke into a wide smile. “Except for the fact that without it, this would not have been possible.” He just made a joke about almost dying. “I am capable of being here with you without any of this happening.” Oberyn leaned in again, pausing with his mouth just above your ear. “And remember, I made my intentions known on that balcony before anything else occurred.”

That was true - he’d kissed you without prompting, flirted with you more effortlessly than any other situation with any man that you could ever recall, and it had all been before he’d ever had any reason to do it as a form of repayment. “I’m sorry, Oberyn. I guess I just …” You shrugged, looking down at where he still held your arm. “This is a lot, you know? And on top of it all, you kissing me like that? It -” “Of everything that has happened to you in the last twenty four hours, the fact that I am attracted to you is the most unbelievable?” He actually laughed at that, head tilting back to expose his neck above the hem of his t-shirt. You stared at him, feeling his body move beneath yours, and were unable to look away from the man’s neck. There was a smattering of freckles visible on the thin skin, stretched taut over the muscles below, and you felt your stomach flip as you watched him swallow. “I can assure you that that is one thing you will never have to doubt.” He met your gaze again, the hurt gone and replaced with an understanding. “You should eat something else. Sleep. Take a shower. Change your clothes. I have a few things to check on, and there’s plenty of time for us to talk later.”

You realized that you were hungry when he said it - your stomach growling - so you didn’t fight him, instead standing up from the couch and looking down at where he remained. It’ll give me time to think . “That sounds good. Are you sure it’s alright if I wear another -” “Yes.” He waved a hand. “Anything here is as much yours as it is mine. It’s all meant to be used when we need it, by whomever needs it. Take what you want.” You eyed him for a few seconds longer and then agreed, turning to walk back toward the second bedroom. Before you closed the door behind you, you glanced back over your shoulder and saw the man wince as he stood up from the couch, one hand pressed to the injured area of his abdomen. He just needs time.

The next time you woke, it was fully dark outside, the light from the TV in the living room the only illumination. I didn’t mean to sleep for that long. Sitting up and stretching, you turned your head to look for Oberyn but saw nothing, no one else in the room. You felt better, though you were still weak. A shower, additional sleep, and another of the rice cakes slathered in peanut butter had done wonders for you, as had drinking down a full bottle of Gatorade along with a few tall glasses of water. But it’s not enough. Not if we need to stay here for days, and …

Standing, you took the few steps needed to reach the blinds, using two fingers to push them to the side. You had a vague idea of where in the city you were, but all you could see over the high wall of the balcony were streetlights and other tall buildings, most of the windows in them dark. Was there anything close on the way? A restaurant, or a grocery store? A gas station? Even a vending machine would be helpful, but you couldn’t remember - you’d been too focused on listening to Oberyn as he guided you toward the safe house. Shit.

The sound of the bedroom door opening prompted you to turn, the sight of Oberyn stepping out and toward you bringing a smile to your face. “You are awake.” He smiled, head tilted to one side. “I didn’t want to disturb you, you were sleeping so deeply.” “You watched me sleep?” Chewing on the corner of your lip, you moved toward him. “Or is it like my heartbeat? Could you hear -”

“Yes.” He straightened his neck. “I closed my door to give you privacy, but even then, I could hear you.” He wasn’t doing it on purpose, and he owed you no real explanation - but he was still giving you one. Does that mean he heard me earlier, when I was dreaming? You hoped not, only because you had a feeling that he’d know what your increased resting heart rate meant, that he would have been able to hear whatever noises you’d made. “I have some news for you.”

“What kind of news?” Moving past him and into the kitchen, you opened the refrigerator again, pulling out one of the cans of Sprite. “Is it about Gregor?” Oberyn waited until you took a drink, the sugary carbonation immediately waking you all the way up. “Or about the Lannisters?” “It’s about you.” What? You froze, confused. “And about Golden Lion.” He gestured to the bedroom he’d just walked out of. “Come with me.” You followed him through the door, fingers clutching the cold can. “Through the years, we have built an extensive network of contacts, people that can and do help us.” That didn’t surprise you, and even though it spurred more questions, you bit your tongue, waiting. “While you were sleeping, I reached out to one of them.” Oberyn bent down, picking a tablet up off of the mattress and handing it to you. “I was right. They’re buying themselves time. ”

Taking the device from him, you held it in one hand, eyes on the screen. “What is this?” But even as you asked the question, you knew. “My email? How did -” “They won’t know it was me. Our people are discreet, careful. I had more to give them this time, knowing that Gregor is in Los Angeles, and they were able to … dig.” Eyes widening in disbelief, you set your drink down on the bedside table and used both hands on the device, quickly scrolling through it.

“I didn’t send these. I don’t -” There was a chain of emails from earlier that day between you, your boss, and one of the division leads at Golden Lion, the messages detailing a travel project that you’d just been assigned. “They’re saying that I’m going to New York? That doesn’t -” “The Lannisters are making sure you are not missed.” He watched from over your shoulder, one hand resting on your hip as he stood behind you. “Requesting you for an open-ended project on the other side of the country? The message coming from someone that high within the organization? Your employer could not refuse, and they know it.” He was right. You didn’t know how they’d done it - gaining access to your account to answer the emails sent, communicating with both your boss and the other person, agreeing to go - but it was right there, in black and white, complete with confirmation of a travel itinerary. If Oberyn’s people could get in from outside the network, someone inside definitely could.

“What if they find me, Oberyn? What -” “That will not happen.” His fingers flexed, the man’s lips close to your ear. “They will not find you. Gregor Clegane will not find you. You are with me , and until this is finished, you will stay with me.” He sounded almost possessive, the man’s voice dropping and growing angrier as he spoke. You knew that you should have been somewhat afraid. But you weren’t, instead feeling thankful that by a stroke of luck, you had someone on your side that could actually protect you if necessary. But only if he’s healthy. Only if he’s… healed. “I didn’t show this to you to scare you, I showed you to prove that I’m right. They’re predictable.”

“Did you find out anything about Gregor? About whether or not -” Without warning, Oberyn pressed a kiss to your cheek and then pulled away, making his way in front of you and pulling the tablet from your hands. Darkening the screen, he tossed the device behind himself onto the bed where it landed with a soft thud.

“They’re working on that. Your emails were easily accessed, because we knew where to look.” He gestured with one hand at the thin wallet on his dresser - yours - and then continued. “I went into the other bedroom while you slept. I’m sorry, but I needed to know your last name, needed anything about you that I could provide.”

“It’s fine.” You let out a shaky breath, looking back at him. “Won’t they know someone else was looking into this? Can’t they tell? If you have people that can do this, I’m sure they do, too.” Gesturing at the tablet, you went on. “Should we get rid of that? Can they trace the IP address or… I mean, you snapped that phone in half, won’t -” “We took care of it. I promise you, it is safe. They cannot track me, and …” He shook his head back and forth, a frown overtaking his features. “I would not put you at risk just to prove a point.” That made sense to you - he wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to hide if he’d thought that any sort of digging would put either of you in danger. “I also had our friends send me the information you found about my pendant. It seems that you were looking for all of my jewelry, hm?” One eyebrow rose as he spoke, the frown changing into a sly smile. “I can assure you that only one piece is worth the effort.” “What’s so special about your pendant, Oberyn?” He was changing the subject, trying to get your mind off of your email account and onto something else, and it was working. You were genuinely curious about the medallion, the complete lack of information on it only feeding the mystery behind the object, and you couldn’t help yourself from taking the carrot he was dangling. He’s good. “You’ve kept it this whole time?”

“Not the whole time.” One thumb hooking beneath the chain that peeked out from the collar of his shirt, he pulled the entire thing free, letting it rest against the cotton so that you could see it. “It was taken from me twice, both times for many years. Once by request, once by force.” Your eyes were drawn to the intricate design etched into the gleaming metal, feet carrying you a few steps closer before you could stop yourself.

“It’s beautiful. I’ve seen some Westerosi jewelry in person - a Baratheon crown, the ruby choker that was said to have belonged to the Red Witch, pieces from Daenerys Targaryen’s personal effects … We even got to work with some of the pins and brooches from …” Cutting yourself off, you looked up, catching the look of warmth in Oberyn’s eyes, his lips curved into the hint of a smile. “I’m sorry. You’re a Martell, I’m sure you’re used to all of the jewels, and it’s not as exciting to hear about it.”

“It is beautiful. It belonged to my father and his father before him. I was not the eldest, but I still had responsibilities to my family.” He tapped the center of the pendant. “Wearing this was not only a symbol of my status as a Prince of Dorne, but it was a reminder of that responsibility, to carry out a duty , eventually.” It took you a few seconds, but as you stared at the jewelry hanging around his neck, you finally understood.

“You were supposed to pass it on to your son. To the next generation of Martells.” He nodded twice, eyes on you. “But you…”

“Elia was to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. She would represent us that way. Doran ruled Dorne, and his children would remain in power, even after he was gone. My children?” Oberyn smiled, pausing. “Each of my three daughters took after me and would have made good leaders, but because they carried the name Sand, they received no special treatment and could not inherit anything.” I forgot he had kids. I didn’t even …

“Oberyn, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think -” “Do not be sorry.” He was still smiling, the light glinting off of his eyes. “My daughters lived long, full lives. Their children did, too. Through them, I am kept alive, even now.” He nodded, still staring at you. “Eventually, I would have had to marry, to father a legitimate heir, a son that could carry the Martell name long after I was dust.” He raised one eyebrow and shrugged casually. “But that was not my fate. It wasn’t what the gods wanted of me.” You wondered what it was like for him to know that his family still lived - countless relatives likely scattered across the globe, only some of them knowing that they were distantly descended from Dornish royalty. Maybe I’ll ask him sometime. “Instead, I carry it as a reminder, and now… now this hanging from my neck means something entirely different.”

“Who took it from you?” Carefully sliding your fingertips beneath the heavy rectangle, you pulled it toward you, eyeing the detailed pattern before rubbing your thumb over its grooves and ridges. “And how did you get it back?” You had no idea if you had any right to ask that - it had nothing to do with your current situation. But Oberyn wasn’t stopping you. Instead, he’d tilted his chin down to watch as you touched the jewelry, holding it with one hand and tracing the design with the fingers of the other.

“Ellaria Sand.” He breathed the name out, your eyes moving back up at the sound of it. “She made many things possible for me, but only when I was worthy of them.” He was trying to let you work it out - giving you partial answers, teasing you with the promise of more information - but you had no idea where he was going with the story. At least I know I didn’t overstep by asking. He seems like he… wants to tell me. Oberyn said your name, the sound of it rolling from his tongue, and you were powerless to ignore him, returning your gaze to his. “Not all of us can walk in the sun, and many of us are perfectly fine with that, choosing to live under the beauty of darkness. But I …was not.”

You felt a chill run through your body at his words, immediately understanding. Somehow, this is … this is how he can be outside. This is … “Oberyn.” You felt your throat constricting, the impact of his words from earlier when he’d told you that he was never without the pendant, and if Clegane or the Lannisters found it , they would find him.

“I missed the sunlight. Missed the warmth. When I was ready, Ellaria gave me the chance to enjoy both things once again.” He covered your hand with one of his, the raised pattern of the piece that you still held pressed against your palm. “And when I abused that privilege, she took it from me.”

You figured that Oberyn’s life after changing hadn’t always been easy, but his admission was brutally honest - you heard the difference in his tone, understood the significance even though he hadn’t elaborated. “I’m glad you got it back, Oberyn.” Lifting your gaze again, you locked eyes with him. “Otherwise we wouldn’t have met.”

“If we hadn’t met, you’d be safe and sleeping in your own apartment right now. You wouldn’t know anything more than you already did about any of this.” Squeezing your hand before letting go of it, he sighed. “And your stomach wouldn’t be making the noises that it currently is.” “You can hear that?” Groaning, you removed your hand from the pendant, covering your face. “I’m trying to conserve the food we have, because I don’t know how long we’ll be here, but I’m not going to lie. I’m hungry, I just -” “There were a few cans of soup in the top cupboard. Tomato, I think, but…” At the words, your stomach rumbled again, his eyes dropping toward it. “You cannot survive on peanut butter and puffed rice.” No I can’t. “Come on. You can eat, and we can talk about what’s going to happen next. I think I have an idea.”

He led you back into the kitchen and you turned to face him, waiting. “I didn’t even see the cans when I looked. Where were -” But he was already reaching up, rising onto his tiptoes as he lifted his hand. You couldn’t help watching him, making note of the way his shirt rose with the movement, exposing the smooth skin of his lower back - and the area of his wound, which looked just as bad as it had the night before. It’s definitely not better. “Oberyn.” He froze at the sound of his name but quickly recovered, dropping back to stand with his feet flat on the floor. But he didn’t look at you, instead gripping an already dented can tightly in one hand. “Please look at me.”

“You weren’t supposed to see that.” You hadn’t heard him speak in the tone he was using before; the sound low, almost dangerous, but instead of moving away from him, you took a step closer. “You -” “Is the front that bad, too?” You were worried, panic beginning to rise. “Is that because you were leaning against the couch earlier? Is it -” You knew that your questions were pointless, that his injury wasn’t the result of sitting on a piece of furniture the wrong way, or pulling you flush against his body. No, it’s the poison, he said that he tasted something in Gregor’s blood, and it’s … “Let me see. Please let me see, Oberyn.”

The man didn’t speak, letting go of the soup can to set it on the counter and then turning toward you, one large hand lifting the hem of his shirt to show you his abdomen. Oh, holy fuck. It was worse than the back, the skin barely closed on either side of a puckered slash, the wound larger than it had looked the previous night. “I tried to bleed the poison out while you slept. I thought it would help.” But it didn’t. You were focused on his skin, focused on the way that it wasn’t just dark lines stretching out from the wound anymore - instead, it was blackened and necrotic in places, whatever was inside of him destroying the area slowly. You brought a shaking hand up to your mouth, the shock of what you saw making you gasp. “It was better this morning. But then as time passed… things changed. Whatever was inside of him, it wasn’t … compatible with me. I think they counted on that, or maybe it’s just an unfortunate coincidence.” “Please don’t joke about this.” You felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, head shaking back and forth as you dropped your hand back to your side. “Why did you let me sit in that bedroom and talk about jewelry when -” “It will do no good to dwell on this. I just need more time, I -” “You need to fucking eat . You need blood , you need to …” Trailing off, you reached for the can, surprising him as you picked it up and pulled back the top with the tab. “Let me eat this, and then you can drink from me again. Something - anything. You need mor-”

“No.” He was angry, but you didn’t care, dropping the piece of aluminum into the sink as you searched the cabinets for a bowl. “No, I’m not going to do that. You can’t lose that much in -” “I’m not going to let you fucking die , Oberyn.” Upending the can into a stained piece of tupperware, you cleared your throat. “I’m here, and I have more than enough -” “You can’t eat that.” His tone was softer, surprising you. What? “It’s spoiled. I can smell it.”

“You’re just saying that.” But you believed him, knowing that the man wouldn’t risk your hunger just to drive home his stubborn declaration. “It’s soup. There’s tons of preservatives and crap. It lasts forever.” He encircled your wrist with his long fingers, the pressure gentle but firm.

“You cannot eat that. You’ll get sick. We’ll try another, but that still doesn’t mean…” He’d made up his mind - you could hear it in his voice. He needs to eat. He needs to eat now. You knew you only had a few seconds to act before he’d stop you, so you agreed with him, the man releasing his hold on your arm and pulling his hand back. “I told you I wasn’t going to die, and I meant it. I’ve had much worse than this, and -” As he spoke, you moved the tupperware into the sink, carefully tilting it and emptying it out. I do smell that now, it smells… sour.

“No, you aren’t going to die, Oberyn.” Turning the water on, you began to rinse the remains of the soup down the drain, also rinsing the can and lid off with hot water. “Because I won’t let you.”

If he’d been full strength, or had known you any better, you wouldn’t have been able to beat him. But instead of dropping the lid back into the can so that you could throw both away, you gripped the flat metal between two fingers, extending your other arm and pressing it against the skin between your wrist and elbow. “Don’t!” He moved the moment you applied more pressure, dragging the most jagged portion of the lid’s edge in a straight line, the bite of it sharp. It worked. You watched a thin line of blood rising from the cut moments later, Oberyn hissing loudly as it began to bead on the surface of your skin. Because he can smell that, too. “What are you doing?”

“What needs to be done, Oberyn.” You lifted your arm toward him, a trail of blood dripping around the curve of your forearm. “Something is better than nothing, right?” He was torn - you saw it in the brief moment when he looked up from your outstretched arm and into your eyes. The man was afraid and angry, hungry but still ready to deny himself. “Don’t let it go to waste.”

Clearheaded that time and eager to help, you watched his mouth open, the points of his teeth visible in the moments before he lowered his face toward your skin, one hand moving to the back of your elbow and the other cradling the bones of your wrist.

There were no assurances of your safety, no murmured words as he latched onto your skin, his bite more painful than it had been the night before. You figured that it was because he’d been caught off guard, but you didn’t care , knowing that the liquid flowing from your veins and into his waiting mouth was the only chance he had.

You felt everything as he sucked on your skin - teeth no longer buried in it, though you could feel them with every movement of his lips. Unconsciously, you began to flex your hand, recalling the vague memory of hearing that that method helped to complete blood donations faster, but Oberyn pulled away from you, raising his head to look into your eyes. “Don’t. I’ll take too much if you do that. Slow. ”

“I’m sorry.” It was little more than a whisper - your gaze moving down to his lips, the lower one tinged faintly with red. That’s my… my blood, he… As he realized where you were looking, Oberyn slowly swiped his tongue over that lip, his eyes a little brighter than they had been and the hand at your wrist loosening and turning over, his fingers twining with yours.

“Focus on me.” You couldn’t do anything else, keeping your eyes on him as he lowered his mouth back to your skin and then over it to clean up the blood that was still present. You hadn’t done much with the aluminium; his teeth had opened your arm up much more efficiently, but you were surprised to feel something warm dripping onto the area he’d bitten into, followed by his tongue, dragging flat against the skin. His blood. He’s using his blood to… It made sense - if his blood could heal his own body, it could heal yours too, even with only a few drops smeared over the surface. That’s how he healed my arm last night, why there were no marks.

He squeezed your hand, and you let out a small sigh as his lips climbed higher on your arm - toward your elbow once again. “You can take more, Oberyn. You need it, you -” The man smiled against your skin but didn’t look up, kissing the inside of your arm as he stepped closer to you. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to make up for the way I just began to feed.” He was standing straight up, the hand he wasn’t holding yours with resting on your hip. “But only if you trust me.” Trust you? Isn’t that what I’ve been doing this whole time? “Will you allow me to -”

Surprising him as you leaned forward, you kissed the man’s cheek and then turned your head inward, lips finding the corner of his mouth. Is this weird? He was just … “I trust you.” The man seemed to have more self control than many of the humans you’d encountered, and you didn’t understand why he thought you’d fear him. He’s human too, just … more . “Oberyn, whatever you need to do, you can -” “This is not something I need .” He interrupted you, lips moving against yours as he spoke. “It is something I want.” What does that even mean? But you only had seconds to wonder, Oberyn kissing your cheek and then your jawline, nudging your head to the side as his mouth dropped even lower. My neck, but he…

He bit into your skin when he was halfway down the length of your throat and you cried out at the sensation, but it wasn’t out of pain. Instead, you found that you’d never felt anything as pleasant as the presence of the man’s mouth on you, the way each steady beat of your heart aligned with the gentle suction of his lips. He squeezed your hand once more and then let go, using the other to pull you closer to him, the man’s arm winding around your waist and holding you in place. Your hands found their way onto his body, too - one of them in his hair, the other carefully pressed to the center of his back, and you were dimly aware of his free hand sliding up your body and to your throat, thumb and forefinger stretched wide as he used them to turn your head further to the side.

You felt your skin tear under his teeth, but it didn’t hurt; felt the additional gush of blood as it flowed from your body and into his mouth, and then the man’s whispered words - trust me - before he squeezed your neck, the pressure of his thumb digging into the place he’d just been feeding from, the edges of his ring rigid and in contrast to the softer skin on either side of it.

That surprised you, but before you could question it, you felt his tongue on your skin again, though it seemed that he was working around his finger - the motion deliberate. Strange… but… You sighed at the way it felt; Oberyn still holding you, cleaning you up, taking what he needed because you’d offered. No, not need. He said … he said he wanted this. And I want this too, whatever it is, he … You had no idea what it meant, but hadn’t wanted to interrupt, gasping in surprise as he pulled his hand away a few seconds later, letting it drag down your chest as it fell.

It was the first time he’d really touched you, fingers curving around your breast as he returned his mouth to your skin, but it wasn’t for the same reason as he’d just done so. Instead of biting you, Oberyn kissed your neck, his lips trailing heat over every inch of you they covered, the hand on your chest kneading at your flesh while you tugged on his hair. You didn’t want to stop him - you knew that it would be easy to lose yourself in the way he was focused on you, on the way he touched you - but you had to. Because he’s still recovering. He needs to rest, he… “Oberyn.”

You didn’t recognize the way your voice sounded as it let your mouth, the frayed, needy tone of it foreign to your ears, but it caught his attention - the man raising his head to look at you once more, pupils blown wide. He smiled, though, and you caught another glimpse of his teeth with the expression before he leaned in to press his forehead to yours, shoulders rising and falling as though he was taking in a breath. “I know. I know I have to stop, but …” But what? “I didn’t want to.”

“I don’t want you to either, Oberyn. But …” You did let out a long exhale, humming. “The point is to make you stronger , not to wear you out.” There was a long pause and then the man laughed, both arms going around you again. After letting him hold you for a few seconds, you cleared your throat. “I never thought I’d be the woman that resorted to dramatics to get you to -” “I wouldn’t have done it otherwise.” He stepped away, frowning. “It’s dangerous to take too much too often, and you haven’t had a full meal in …” Two days now. The realization shocked you, your mouth dropping open. “Exactly. I cannot do that again, so please don’t tempt me.” He gestured to the cupboards. “Eat. Drink another Gatorade. You need to. If you collapse, I cannot leave to -” He can’t leave to get me what I would need .

“Ok.” Rubbing at your face, you nodded. “Yeah.” You pulled out the other can and opened it, Oberyn leaning forward to sniff at what was inside before nodding once. Oh, thank God. A few minutes later, you were leaning against the counter, drinking the hot liquid from one of the coffee mugs you’d used earlier, and wondering just how hungry you had to be to thoroughly enjoy a can of watered-down tomato soup. “Oberyn, what’s the next step?” You finished your dinner, rinsing the dish, and then turned back to the refrigerator, downing half of the bottled drink in one long swig. “Do you have a plan?”

“I planned on figuring it out tonight.” He gestured at his torso. “I wasn’t expecting … this.”

“So let’s sleep on it. I know we haven’t really done much today, and I just woke up, but …” But I’m tired. “You need the rest. I need the rest. You’ll be better in the morning, right?” He agreed, though you saw a slight flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, and at the sight of it, you made a decision, unsure of whether or not it was overstepping boundaries. “Do you want some company tonight?

“Yes.” There was no hesitation in his reply, the man cocking his head to the side. “I would like that very much.” Yeah, I would, too.

Twenty minutes later, you made your way through the small apartment from your room to Oberyn’s, once again dressed in pajamas. Your steps were steady, though you were sore and exhausted, and you knew that you were likely dehydrated, too, despite the extra water you’d consumed in the bathroom after brushing your teeth and staring at the unblemished skin of your neck in the mirror. It’s normal. There’s no wound, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be tired.

Before you could knock, Oberyn invited you in, the man sitting on the edge of the bed dressed in a different pair of pants and a white t-shirt, hands hanging between his spread legs. “I reached out again, and our people are working on finding out more about Clegane and where he might be… where the Lannisters are.”

“That’s important information.” Crossing your arms, you moved toward him. “Once you know where they are, you can -” “I can finish the job. Avenge my sister and make the Lannisters pay for what they’ve done to the Martells.” He reached for you, urging you to take a seat on one knee. “And to all of the others that they’ve harmed .” He was serious - you saw it in his eyes, could hear it in every word he said. They deserve whatever happens to them. At least the ones he’s… the ones he knows. You still weren’t sure how what he’d explained was possible, but until you had proof otherwise, you were going to go by what he said. What other choice do I have? “But tonight, you are right. I need to rest.”

Oberyn reached up with one hand, taking your chin between his fingers and turning your head, eyes on the column of your throat. “It looks fine, Oberyn. You can’t even tell that -” “It does.” His eyes were on your skin, thumb stroking gently over it. “It is perfect.” The corners of his mouth quirking up, he cleared his throat, guiding your head back into a natural position. “I usually do not sleep with clothes, but because you’re here and we cannot do anything about it…” You felt a tug of disappointment at his words - but he wasn’t wrong.

“Whatever makes you comfortable, Oberyn.” Glancing down, you bit down on your lip. “How’s it feel? Any better?” He pushed you away gently and you stood, the man reaching down to pull the shirt over his head, exposing his upper body to you again. Oh. Leaning down, you eyed him closely. “Some of the … dark spots look smaller, but …” It doesn’t look better. Not like it did last night after he… “Do you know what it is? The poison I mean, since you’re -” “No. And I won’t without being able to analyze it. When this is over, I’ll be able to do that. We will be able to do that, and then they’ll have nothing.” You hoped that he was right, but knew that in order to get to that point, Oberyn needed to survive. Since you were standing, you moved to turn the light off before you returned to the bed, the man already stretched out, leaving one side of the mattress open for you.

“Is there a second blanket? I don’t want to hurt you. If I move while I’m sleeping, and I hit your stomach or your back? It’ll -” “It will be worth it.” He paused. “Unless it makes you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t.” You climbed in next to him, pulling the blankets around your body and facing him. “I just want to know you’re alright, Oberyn. And you tried to hide that you weren’t from me today, and …” How much is too much? What crosses the line here? You figured that you had some right to know what was going on with him, because of the situation you were in - but where that ended, you were unsure. “I can’t help if you don’t let me.”

“You already helped me.” The mattress shifted as Oberyn moved closer, his fingers skating over your cheek in the darkness. “More than you know.” It was the second time he’d told you that, and though you wanted to know what he meant by it, you decided not to ask. He’ll explain if he… when he wants to . The two of you laid in silence for long moments, the man’s knuckles still moving slowly over your skin, and you finally reached for him, too, flattening your palm against his chest and moving it back and forth slowly. “You hold yourself back and do not touch me unless I’m touching you. Why?”

He was curious, the man waiting for an answer, and because he’d been so direct with you, you wanted to give him the same in return. “A lot of reasons, but …” Squeezing his shoulder and then sliding your hand back toward the center of his body, you let out a long sigh. “Mostly because you’re hurt. And I know that you’re probably hiding how hurt, which is understandable. You know damn well that every part of me wants to touch you, Oberyn, but I’m too worried about you to even think about -”

“And how am I supposed to know that, hmm?” His hand moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, urging you closer. “What do you think my abilities include - reading minds?” His lips moved over your forehead as he spoke, the amusement present in his questions.

“You’re Oberyn Martell.” You moved your hand from his chest to his ribs and then around to his back, the motion drawing you closer to his body. “You don’t need to read minds to know how someone feels about you, because if even half the accounts I’ve read are true, then everyone -” His laugh was quiet but knowing, you could feel it moving through him. “Have you ever met a single sane person that didn’t want to get their hands all over you, Prince Oberyn?”

“Very few.” He sighed, pausing. “Surprisingly, there are more that turn me away now than there were in Westeros. Perhaps it is because there is a much broader selection of partners, or maybe people are simply smarter these days.” It was your turn to let out a laugh, the tips of your fingers gliding up and down his spine. They’re definitely not. “But you aren’t wrong. My senses are heightened now, of course, but even before I became this , I could tell when someone’s breathing changed, or feel their skin heat at my touch.” His hand moved down from your neck to your arm, fingers wrapping around your bare skin. “I could see the look in their eyes and hear the pitch of their voice change when they spoke to me.”

He knew what he was doing to you - the man seducing you while talking about how he’d unwittingly seduced countless others, his touch and words turning your body even more pliant in his bed. And I don’t even care, you realized as he continued to touch you, hand moving away from your arm and over your back, his fingertips sliding beneath the bottom hem of your shirt. “This isn’t fair, Oberyn.” Tilting your head down, you pressed your face against his shoulder, lips making contact with the dip at the center of his chest. “I’m trying to be responsible here. I know everything’s different now, but I’m trying to at least pretend it isn’t.”

“Why?” Almost your entire back was exposed, his fingers kneading soothingly at your flesh as they moved. “Why pretend? What would you have done differently if Clegane wasn’t involved?” He was being direct again, but he was also being practical; the man unafraid to ask you the questions he wanted the answers to.

“I don’t want you to think that I’m doing any of this because of who - or what - you really are.” Pulling your head back enough so that you could look into his eyes, you continued. “I’m not helping you because you’re a fucking Prince that I grew up hearing about. I didn’t start talking to you at that bar because you’re a v…” He nodded, and you swallowed before speaking again. “A vampire.”

“The term does not suit us, though I understand why it became so popular.” Oberyn was still touching you, his umber eyes glinting even in the almost complete darkness of the room. “We do not crawl from our graves each night. We aren’t soulless.” He trailed his fingertips up your spine as he dispelled the common misconceptions about his kind. “Feeding from the unaware is frowned upon. Even though I am quick , I cannot fly.”

“You’re warm.” You mumbled the words, eyes closing briefly. “Strong. And I saw your reflection in the mirror in the bathroom.” He hummed in agreement, kissing the top of your head. “Why did you start talking to me, Oberyn? At the bar, I mean.” It took him a few seconds to answer, but when he did, you could tell that he’d been caught off guard by the question.

“Because I wanted to.” His thumb swept over your shoulder blade, the rest of his hand unmoving. “Because you were alone and looked upset, and I wanted to see a real smile on your face.” You did? “And when I saw you at the party, dressed as Nymeria? I thought …” You thought what? “In a city like this, the odds are small that we would have run into each other again. And there you were, dressed like you were ready to take a walk through the Water Gardens or down the streets of Sunspear - right in front of me.” He said your name, waiting until you acknowledged him to keep going. “I did not know you worked with or for Golden Lion until I saw you at the party. That was not my motivation. But I’m glad that you did , because otherwise?” He used his body to push you onto your back, his arm trapped between it and the bed, and then moved to hover over you. “Things would not have ended well for me.”

They still might not. You looked up at him, eyes better adjusted in the darkness, and though you knew that he could see the expression in yours - likely a mixture of fear, surprise and acceptance - you were glad. Because I want him to know. “You would have figured it out, Oberyn. Just like you still will.” Hopefully. “Are you doing any better? Does it feel -” “I don’t know.” He stared down at you, brow furrowed. “I don’t feel worse , so that’s … something.” His eyes moved over your face, Oberyn looking for something in your expression. What are you looking for? What do you want me to say? “You have my permission.” Permission for what? “To touch me whenever you want. There’s no need for you to keep your hands to yourself.” You didn’t mean to - but the words made you laugh, the sound loud and startling the man above you. “Why are you -”

“When you’re better, Oberyn?” Reaching up with one hand, you moved the hair against his forehead to one side before stroking his temple. “You’re going to regret telling me that, because I’m not going to want to stop .” That shocked him too, but he recovered quickly, ducking his head down to capture your lips in a kiss that ended before you’d even had a chance to react.

“I hope that’s a promise.” He shifted his hips against you, letting you feel that he meant the words, and then winked before moving away, laying back down and getting comfortable. Assuring him it was, you moved in, turning onto your side so that your back was to his chest. You hadn’t expected the man to almost immediately coil his body around yours, one hand pressed flat against your belly to draw you even closer. I wonder if this is what he’s like under normal circumstances.

It was strange for you that there was no movement from behind you - no rise and fall of his chest, no breath fanning out over your neck or shoulder, no beat of his heart - but instead of focusing on those things, you honed in on the way Oberyn kissed you slowly, lips glancing off of any exposed skin over and over until you nodded off, a small smile on your face.

You slept well in his arms, but the first thing you noticed when you woke up was that Oberyn was no longer holding you. Where is he? You had no idea what time it was, but a quick glance at the bathroom door told you that he was likely inside, the light escaping from beneath it bright. “Oberyn?” Pushing yourself to your feet, you crossed the room toward the door, frowning at his lack of response. “Oberyn are you -” “Come in.” At the sound of his voice you immediately went on alert, hand on the knob to push it open. “Do not be -” “What the fuck?” You dropped to your knees at the sight of him, Oberyn leaning on the countertop, his bare back visible in the mirror. “Oberyn -” “It is worse.” That was putting it mildly; the wound itself was oozing, and the sickly looking lines were back, spreading much further than they had been. And the patches of rot, they … they’re worse too. “I’ve been trying to figure out how I can leave and -” Leave and what? Attack someone? “Take more, Oberyn. Please. Whatever you need. Whatever you need to -” “I’ll kill you if I… feed.” He cleared his throat and for the first time, you noticed that he looked pale, his eyes slightly sunken. It can’t have been more than a few hours. “It hasn’t even been six hours.” It was too soon, and you knew it, but the sight of him made your chest ache.

“I’m going to go chug a Gatorade, okay? I’m going to eat more of that peanut butter, and then I’m going to come back in here, and you are going to -” “It’s too dangerous. You’re already…” But even as he spoke, you watched the man staring at you - his eyes on your throat. “I can’t.”

“You can.” Standing, you reached out to take his face between your hands, forcing him to look at you. “And you will. Give me five minutes, I’ll give you another drink, and then you can decide how you’re going to find someone else to feed on.” He blinked twice and then agreed, a shudder tearing through his body right before you pulled away. “Five minutes.”

Closing the door quietly behind you, you went back into the kitchen and searched through all of the cupboards, finding nothing else that was edible aside from the rice cakes Shit. True to your word, you ate quickly, mind racing as you tried to think of a solution. But there’s nothing. I can’t just lure someone back here, it’s not safe. You tried to stay quiet, but knew that even in his disoriented state, Oberyn could probably hear you crying over the kitchen sink as you finished your meal.

He fed from you when you went back into the bedroom, the man only denying your offer once before sinking his teeth into your wrist and swallowing a few times before pulling away. With a quiet moan, he led you to the bed, urging you to climb in with him. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that you realized your wrist was still bleeding from two puncture wounds. He didn’t heal it. He… Pressing the fingers of your other hand over the wound, you counted slowly in your head, the man once again wrapped around you from behind as though he was trying to steady himself.

It continued on that way for hours - the man staying still and silent for long periods of time and then waking up and urging you closer to him. Each time, you asked how he was, but the responses continued to discourage you, no matter how well the man lied. The third time he woke, you convinced him to take another drink from you - rolling over to face him and lifting your other arm, locking eyes as you told him to do it , and not to ask questions. After the first time, you only had to suggest it for the man to take you up on your offer, teeth breaking skin for a few sips from the most readily available location before he’d pull away, apologizing.

The relief you saw on his features each time he drank gave you hope, but the fact that he still wasn’t bothering to heal your wounds frightened you. He wouldn’t forget. He wouldn’t… Both arms were marked in multiple places and so was the shirt you wore - splotches of red evidence of you trying to stop the bleeding each time he finished. It must mean he… can't.

Near nightfall, you excused yourself to stretch your legs and change your shirt, trying to give yourself a few extra minutes to think while you chugged as much water as you could stand, also eating the final rice cake. Because there has to be something I can do. There has to be. When you suggested leaving and finding someone to bring back for him, he violently shook his head no, mumbling something about you being too weak to leave and make it back to the apartment. But it wasn’t until he opened his eyes fully, saying your name that you nearly lost it.

“If you leave and don’t come back, I won’t…” Oberyn’s lip curled slightly, glint in his eyes dull, though he didn’t blink. “Don’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t.” You closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around Oberyn and pulling him against your chest, more skin exposed due to the shirt you’d changed into. “I won’t leave you, Oberyn.” He’s going to die. He’s going to die in this bed and I’m going to be right next to him when it happens, and Ellaria’s going to - At the thought of the woman, your eyes opened, hope flooding through your body. “ Oberyn.” He didn’t reply immediately, and you realized a few seconds later that his mouth was once again on you - lips pressed to the exposed skin of your sternum while he drank. “Hey. Oberyn, listen to me for a second.”

“Hmm?” You knew that what you were doing wasn’t sustainable; there was no way he could keep drinking from you, that you were only putting off the inevitable for both of you unless you did something. Why didn’t he think of this? “Did you say -” He slurred his words, and that made you act, reaching out for him again and using one corner of your ruined shirt to wipe the blood from his lips. This has to be the right call.

“Oberyn, look at me.” It wasn’t an order - you would have called it a plea if anyone had asked. When he finally opened his eyes to meet yours, you laid a hand on his cheek, trying to smile at him. “We need to do something.” He snorted, swallowing part of the sound. “Do you have … Do you have any way to get in touch with Ellaria? Because if she created you, she’ll know what to do.” At the mention of the woman, Oberyn’s expression switched from passive to alert, his eyes brightening for a moment. Good. That’s a good thing. “She’ll be able to tell me what to do, Oberyn.” She has to. She has to be able to.

“This is not her mess to clean up.” He squeezed his eyes shut, sighing. “I cannot -” “You want to live, Oberyn. I want you to live. This is the only thing I can think of.” You didn’t know what the woman would be able to do - but knew that anything was better than what you were doing. I don’t know what their relationship is now, but… It didn’t matter, though. Not if it means she can help and he gets through this . “You need to call her. You need to tell her, ask her to come here.”

“No.” It was the most lucid he’d sounded in hours, and your eyes flew open, locked back on his face and waiting. No? You can’t mean that, Oberyn. “I won’t ask .” What? “ We will to tell her where we are and then wait for her to arrive.” He smiled at you then, and though it was only a shadow of the one you knew he was capable of, you saw him in it.

We’ll get her here, Oberyn. I’ll get her here for you.

tags to come separately

want to be tagged? Links in our bios to Google Forms, or you can send a message/leave a comment!

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x female reader #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x you #pedrostories #pedro pascal character #oberyn martell fic #oberyn martell got #oberyn martell vampire au #game of thrones au #game of thrones fic #collaboration #cowritten with rachael #aphelion #oberyn martell the red viper of dorne

92 notes · View notes