#ned stark x elia martell

[queen-helaenas-pet-spider]

Satin Flowers Theories That Spark Joy:

1. He is a highborn!!!!

DEFINITELY POSSIBLE!!!!!! Satin having skills that mainly a highborn would have {reading, writing, etc}, him being bad at keeping fires in Jon's fireplace going {which is something a servant would do, and not a highborn}, etc.

2. He is the real Prince Aegon Targaryen {son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Princess Elia Martell *who was "killed" when Tywin Lannister and his army sacked King's Landing*} and not Young Griff!!!!

A little out there, I know, but it's a fun theory!!!!!!!! If Satin is Rhaegar and Elia's Aegon, and Jon is Rhaegar and Lyanna's Aegon {or whatever Jon's real name might be, I really hope it's not Aegon}, then that means Jon Snow has been one - sidedly trying to court his half brother for 3 books {knowing the Valyrian's, that's not a bad thing, but they're both men, and one or both of them might not be into it}.

And if they're both Rhaegar's sons, them and Daenerys {Rhaegar's little sister} completes yet another 3 headed dragon {Dany as Aegon The Conqueror, Satin/Potential Aegon #? as Rhaenys, and Jon/Potential Aegon #? as Visenya. Walk with me. W A L K W I T H M E ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! }

More cons: 1. Satin being Rhaegar and Elia's Aegon would mean that another heir to the Iron Throne has thrown his life away to serve at a place that will kill you if you try to quit. And 2. As far as we know, Jon and their friends are the only support he has, and that wouldn't be enough to help him reclaim the throne {that Daenerys is also fighting for}.

3. He is one of Robert Baratheon's bastards!!!

Robert {a Baratheon man with Targaryen blood} was in love with a Stark man {Ned Stark, and not Ned's sister Lyanna *who went to war for, but couldn't even remember what she looked like*} and now Jon {A Stark man with Targaryen blood} in love with another potential Baratheon man with Targaryen blood?!?!?!?! {They'd still be related, but not as close as they'd be if he was Rhaegar and Elia's Aegon!!!!!!!!}

---

Satin Flowers Theories That DO NOT Spark Joy:

1. He is one of Littlefinger's MANY spies!!!!

WHAT WOULD BE THE POINT?!?!?! I mean, if it somehow ties into Littlefinger's whole climb up the Ladder plan, sure. But other than that, he would just wasting his time, money, and a very pretty boy that can make him even richer.

2. HE IS ONE OF JON SNOW'S KILLERS!!!!

No matter Satin's possible station in the world, he literally has NOTHING to gain from killing Jon!!!! Jon comforted him when he was scared, stayed by his side while fighting, elevated his status {which includes living with Jon in his chambers instead of barracks full of men that hate him}, verbally tore apart all who talked shit about him, etc!!!!

The only thing Satin gains from killing one of his very few supporters, would be getting hurt and killed by enemies. Saying that Satin Flowers is one of the men that killed Jon Snow is about as believable as Sansa Stark causing the Doom Of Valyria {which happened centuries before she was born, but knowing Sansa antis, I'm sure they've found a way to blame her for that, too 🙄🙄💀💀}.

---

Or, Satin Flowers could be just as GRRM introduced him as: A former sex worker turned into a man of the Night’s Watch, nothing more, nothing less. But I have a feeling that GRRM has plans for Satin, and I PRAY those don't include hurting or killing him right after the mutiny, or him being a traitor. Either of those would kill Jon....again....💀💀💔💔

[spearsndragons]

Visenya’s support system

— a gold thread of pride and guilt

BONUS:

[rise-my-angel]

You hit the nail on the head because the version of Lyanna they stan is very much a sociopath lmao....but the shippers just don't get that they've fanoned this character into a sociopath? Like, there is zero awareness as to how bad she looks. It's actually very concerning. The version of her they stan is all but ready to walk over the murdered corpses of Rhaegar's wife and two kids and is ready to sit with a crown on her head in the same throne room her brother and father were murdered in lmao.

Also, in fics at least, they write Rhaegar to treat Rhaenys and Aegon like shit, say he loves Lyanna more than he ever loved his kids, except Jon though because Jon becomes his Super Special Boy, because of course. Mind you, there will be dozens of shippers in the comments complimenting the fic writers and saying how romantic this depiction is with absolutely zero self-awareness that they are stanning and celebrating the depiction of two sociopaths who are essentially villains. They really are out here shipping Charles and Camilla but like 100 times worse than anything Charles and Camilla did? It's very weird and the lack of self-awareness beggars belief.

In my opinion, it is very telling who in that situation ended up dead and why. Aegon and Rhaenys were left without genuine protection and thus were horrifically murdered when in reality the Kingsguard should have been there to protect them until their dying breaths. Elia too was left without any protection and was actually not allowed to leave because Rhaegar did not take his fathers decline in mental stability and his public disdain for his Dornish daughter in law and Dornish granddaughter into consideration at all when abandoning them for over a year.

Lyanna was not brought to a place she could leave on her own because Dorne is as far from Winterfell as it could get. She was not brought help or brought to get help and left to die in a bed of her own blood.

The only reason Jon is alive, is because Eddard Stark and Howland Reed managed to be the only survivors of a brutal fight to the death against Kingsguard keeping a brother from his dying sister who had screamed from inside the tower for said brother.

Rhaegar was attempting to fulfill a prophecy remember. Three heads of a dragon, so he put Elia through 2 back to back dangerous pregnancies. And when she could not have more, soon after that Rhaegar takes Lyanna.

Lyanna wasn't taken because he loved her. He took her because he decided she would give him that third dragon head. Jon was not born as a child Rhaegar wanted to love. He was born in a sexually violent attempt to force Rhaegar to have his own life match what he thought meant he was a special chosen one.

Then he died in the war he was the catalyst for causing. Every death can be traced back to Rhaegars failure to protect the people in his life, because he was too absorbed in his own hubris.

Jon only lived, because Ned Stark fought to get to Lyanna, and Lyanna begged him to keep Jon safe.

Jon is only alive because of Ned and Lyannas love for each other and him as a family.

Rhaegar did not love any of these people. He was obsessed with making his life fit the visions of a prophecy only he believed about himself.

Elia, Aegon, Rhaenys, and Lyanna are all dead because Rhaegar did not care about protecting them. Jon is alive because Ned did what Rhaegar didn't. He protected Jon when Rhaegar couldn't even be bothered protecting his already existing two children.

[an-artist-who-loves-got]

Domestic Ashara/Ned/Elia with little Rhaenys and Balerion for @bol-stark , hope you like it! :)

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Idea #49: Robert's Rebellion, but make it gender swap

The thing I love about Robert's Rebellion is that its causes and motivations are far from clear. Was Lyanna kidnapped and raped? Did she go willingly with Rhaegar and chose to stay with him even after her disappearance led to war? Was Robert fighting for the woman he claimed to love or the Iron Throne? Every side has its own opinion, and that is just so viscerally real I can't help but love it.

So naturally I thought: what can I do to twist the narrative even further? Or: What if Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen were gender swapped?

Just imagine it:

In 281, King Aerys and Queen Rhaella have two living children: Rhaelle, 21 and heir apparent to The Iron Throne, and Visneya, 5.

For lack of viable Targaryen alternative, Rhaelle married the Dornish Prince Elias Martell two years previously, but it's far from a love match. They try, but active, outgoing, worldly - even mystical - Rhaelle has little in common with sickly, introverted, salt of the earth Elias. The more they try to make their marriage work, the more they rub each other the wrong way.

Then the tourney at Harrenhal occurs and Princess Rhaelle meets Lyman Stark, the third son of Lord Rickard, and it's love at first sight.

(She's also introduced to Robert Baratheon, who falls in love with her instantly, but the feeling is very much not returned.)

The first signs of trouble come when Lyman Stark wins the tourney and crowns Princess Rhaelle queen of love and beauty. It's not unheard of for unbetrothed knights to crown members of the royal family, but the way he does it sets the Dornish party on edge.

Rhaelle and Lyman begin corresponding after the tourney and, shortly after Rhaelle births her second child, she disappears from the Red Keep.

Robert's Rebellion hits all the same notes, but in a slightly different key.

Brandon Stark, rather than demanding the return of his sister, enters the Red Keep with his father to answer Aerys' summons. When neither profess to know the location of the crown princess, Aerys has both executed. It's this that sparks the rebellion, with Robert being the face of it not for the theft of his betrothed but for his proximity to the Iron Throne. (There should be a decided feeling that Robert would have tried for the throne if Rhaelle ever succeed her father.)

Elias dies at the Red Fork. Jaime kills the Mad King before he can blow up King's Landing. Princess Rhaenys and Prince Aegon are killed by Lannister knights. Robert takes the throne. Visneya and Daenerys are spirited off to Essos.

Throughout it all, there's no sign of Rhaelle or Lyman.

Ned eventually finds them both at the Tower of Joy, where he learns Lyman caught a fever and died shortly after learning of Brandon and Rickard's death. Rhaelle has been keeping his bones next to her bed a la Gustav II - and has recently given birth to a young son she's named Aenys.

When Rhaelle refuses to hand over Lyman's bones or return to the capitol, a struggle ensues. It should never be clear if Rhaelle went the Juliet I'd rather die without my beloved route or if Ned accidentally wounded her during the struggle.

Ned claims Aenys as his bastard son, renaming him Jon, and canon proceeds apace.

Very little should change in the lead-up to the books save that Rhaelle's actions are held up by men in power as just another reason women shouldn't be allowed to inherit. Dorne insists that the crown princess was kidnapped from her loving marriage with Prince Elias, the North insists that she went with Lyman willingly. Robert mourns in his cups over his lost love Rhaelle, who he would have treated so much better than Prince Elias, but still maintains the strongest bonds of brotherhood with Ned Stark, who he doesn't blame for Lyman's actions, saying he would have stolen Rhaelle away too if given half the chance. He also still wishes to murder her sisters hiding in Essos to secure his throne.

...and that's where the plot bunny runs out. What happens during the events of canon because of these changes is very much dealer's choice.

Bonuses include: 1) The rampant misogyny endemic to ASOIAF and the clear suggestion if you just treated women as human beings you wouldn't be in this position, but Rhaelle's decision to run away with Lyman not treated as a victory of feminism so much as an abdication of the responsibility she accepted when named crown princess; 2) Suggestions of Aerys' madness echoing in all members of the Targaryen family at various points throughout, but never explicitly seen in another until the Tower of Joy; and 3) Ned, remembering Rhaelle's final moments, always looking for signs of a similar madness in Jon and openly encouraging his desire to join the Night's Watch.

And that's all I have. As always, feel free to adopt this bun, just link back if you decide to do anything with it.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

[alleyskywalker]

NEW FIC: Sweet Misery (Ned/Elia)

Title: Sweet Misery Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire Characters/Pairings: Ned/Elia Rating: PG Word Count: 798 Summary: "The children will be safe, I promise you that. They will not have the benefit of being—” Ned cuts himself off, his eyes drifting to Rhaenys, who’s now let go of her mother to stick a fist in her mouth. “Have they told you all the…conditions?”

An AU in which Elia and her children survive the sack.

Read on AO3

[unseentravler]

Fic of the week

283 AC.

Rhaegar takes an uneasy seat on the Iron Throne.

His daughter has been born, accepted willingly by his wife, who stares down on her with kindness despite the whispers. The Usurper has been driven off to Essos, fleeing with the death of his so-called beloved. His father is dead.

He's gotten what he wanted-

So why does he feel so empty?

-

Amidst the red sands of Dorne, a She-wolf breathes her last, and a prophecy is fulfilled.

Visenya grows up knowing the love of her mother, Elia, the absence of her mother, Lyanna, and the cold indifference of her father, Rhaegar. And dreams of green eyes and black scale. With the Targaryen dynasty weaker than it has been since the Dance, enemies in the west, and a looming threat in the north, fate finds itself nestled firmly between the teeth of monsters as they scrape the land anew

This is the best GOT I have ever read. It's a fascinating take on a common AU, with fantastic characterization and storytelling, especially when it comes to Robert Baratheon. It is currently ongoing and updates regularly.

10/10 Highly recommend.

[bol-stark]

Discord for ASOIAF Fans

Hey :) So my writing partners and I made a discord server for ASOIAF Fans. It has its normal Off-Topic area but also a ASOIAF area for chat, theories, art and memes. We also created dedicated channels for the main houses. Besides that it has a Fanfiction area for readers and authors. You can post prompts, ideas and recommend fics. As author you can also promote your fic/art and meet other authors, maybe you find also a partner for a project. The server also has an area for our group project "Of Kingdoms & Crown" if you're interested. NSFW area is also there.

If you're interested you can join our discord server here: Tales from the Old Gods If you have questions you can send me a message :)

[themockingpoint]

For the ship thing

Elia x Lyanna

Elia Sand x Edric Dayne

Arianne x Aegon

Ashara x Ned x Catelyn

Elia x Arthur

Arya x Gendry

JFC dude! From here on out one pairing at a time.

The Ship Thing: Lyanna Stark x Elia Martell

Who Cooks?

Elia

Who does Laundry and other chores?

Elia does Laundry, but Lyanna does everything else (dishes, sweeping, mopping etc)

How many children do they have?

Three

Who’s more dominant?

They really don’t have this dynamic, but Lyanna has said before when Elia gets angry there is nothing more attractive.

Favorite Non-Sexual activity

They don’t get to do it often due to Elia’s health, but they love going on hikes. Also Elia claims that they love playing pranks on each other, but it is mostly Elia who plays the pranks.

Favorite place together?

Home. Especially since they’ve started experiencing Empty Nest syndrome

Any traditions?

Their birthdays are very close together, so instead of celebrating either one, they do something huge between them and invite everyone they know (except Fuck boy of course)

Their “Song”

You don’t own me

Where was their honeymoon?

Hidden away. They told no one where it was and despite Oberyn’s best efforts they’ve stayed mum.

Where did they meet?

Not under the best circumstances

Pets?

Elia nearly had a heart attack when Lyanna brought home two direwolves. She attempted to turn the tables, but Lyanna ended up loving the snakes they got from Oberyn. She and Rhaenys are the only ones.

What do they fight over?

-Lyanna, becoming a mother at such a young age, has a bad habit of trying to be the “cool mom” and Elia is stuck being the bad cop a lot. Elia once needed to go on a two week business trip and Lyanna was stuck with all three on her own. While she has become much more even keel, it is still a problem they fight about.

-Also, after this incident they’ve accused each other of being too soft on their kids. Lyanna is too easy on Aegon and Rhaenys and Elia is too easy on Jon whenever they screw up.

-Also on a lesser note Lyanna wasn’t happy with Elia setting up Sansa and Little Elia. Lyanna found it inappropriate and Elia found it cute. Elia ended up being right as the two ended up being smitten with each other.

Where do they go on vacation?

They mostly go to their family homes. Flip-Flopping on which one they go to for which holiday.

The Ship Thing: Elia Sand x Ned Dayne

Who Cooks?

Split between them pretty easy

Who does Laundry and other chores?

Split evenly except taking care of the pets which is exclusively Elia

How many children do they have?

All of them. All of the babies.

Who’s more dominant?

Elia

Favorite Non-Sexual activity

Fighting/Sparring. No one is surprised about Elia it is Ned that everyone is shocked about doing so

Favorite place together?

Anywhere with the ocean

Any traditions?

They go horse riding at least once a month. On the big anniversaries Ned will usually get her a horse.

Their “Song”

Take it off by the Donnas. When Elia started amatuer fighting before they started dating Ned picked it for her pump up song and she loved it.

Where was their honeymoon?

The water gardens

Where did they meet?

His Aunt Ashara and her Aunt Elia introduced them

Pets?

Way to many horses to count

What do they fight over?

Elia has a habit of not taking things seriously.

Where do they go on vacation?

Anywhere in the north, which means north of Dorne.

The Ship Thing: Aegon x Arianne

Who Cooks?

Aegon. Arianne is far to much of a princess and Aegon was taught how to take care of himself personally

Who does Laundry and other chores?

Again Aegon

How many children do they have?

Three bio kids

Who’s more dominant?

Arianne

Favorite Non-Sexual activity

They like playing with the kids

Favorite place together?

They like King’s Landing, but they go to Norvos a lot.

Any traditions?

They have a special private tradition on Arianne’s birthday

Their “Song”

Arianne told everyone it The Stroke by Billy Squier precisely to see Aegon blush every time it comes up

Where was their honeymoon?

They both are a bit of workaholics so decided to forgo a honeymoon

Where did they meet?

Pets?

They share Viserion

What do they fight over?

Far too much

Where do they go on vacation?

They don’t often but when they do it’s always somewhere with water. It is usually has them on a boat

The Ship Thing: Ashara x Ned x Catelyn

Who Cooks?

Catelyn does for the most part, but Ashara misses her spices so will occasionally as well

Who does Laundry and other chores?

Again Cat, but Ned does the outside chores.

How many children do they have?

After her child was still born Ashara was not able to have kids but sees the Stark five as hers but she’s never admitted it out loud

Who���s more dominant?

Cat and Ash try to get Ned to be more assertive, but it does fall on Ashara a lot of the time.

Favorite Non-Sexual activity

All three love the movies. Love them.

Favorite place together?

Winterfell’s Godswood. Catelyn never felt at ease but the two together were able to get her to like it more.

Any traditions?

They mourn Ashara’s baby together on it’s birthday

Their “Song”

They don’t really have a song as much as a band. They like ABBA though

Where was their honeymoon?

Harrenhall because…

Where did they meet?

Harrenhall

Pets?

Far too many Direwolves

What do they fight over?

They don’t. But unfortunately this is actually very unhealthy since they are all so scared of rocking the boat in a relationship that is unconventional

Where do they go on vacation?

Somewhere Warm. Ashara and Catelyn team up on Ned

The Ship Thing: Arya x Gendry

Who Cooks?

Arya but Gendry has on occasion

Who does Laundry and other chores?

Gendry mostly but Arya does regularly enough

How many children do they have?

Mostly foster kids.

Who’s more dominant?

Arya says she is but in actuality Gendry just knows when to pick his battles. Despite Gendry’s nickname being “The Bull”, it is actually Arya that is bullheaded

Favorite Non-Sexual activity

Gendry blacksmiths and Arya tests his creations out

Favorite place together?

Camping

Any traditions?

They visit Winterfell

Their “Song”

Gendry suggested Stacy’s Mom by the Fountains of Wayne. Arya did not speak to him for five full weeks

Where was their honeymoon?

Exploring the Riverlands

Where did they meet?

Arya was hanging out at the park and let everyone think she was a boy without correcting them. Gendry was the only one who figured it out.

Pets?

Nymeria plus she brings pack members with her all the time

What do they fight over?

Anything and everything. People have started avoiding their presence

Where do they go on vacation?

To Visit Gendry’s mother in KL

[aelenavelaryon]

Hey guys! This story will have three or four parts. Or at least I’m hoping it will. Also, please bear with me as I recently started posting here so things are still new to me. I’m not quite sure on how to use tumblr to post yet so it might take a while! Thank you! 🤍

Robert Baratheon x Reader

Summary: In which history repeats itself once again. Or does it?

Robert had known young Rhaenyra all his life and they were sort of friends and some would even say they were somewhat close. When he sat on the Iron Throne she was the only one brought out, Jon Arryn saw it fit for the eldest of the Targaryen's to be the one to confront Robert. There she stood, in the middle of the room. All the lords eyes were on her. She said nothing, what could she say? "Your brother is dead" was the first thing Robert said to her. "I killed him. I wish I could kill him again" Rhaenyra's eyes filled with tears but none fell out. She didn't want to cry. She wouldn't allow them that satisfaction.

"What will happen to us?" she asked. "To Viserys, to Jaehaerys" everyone turned to her as he said the other name. "Who is Jaehaerys?" Jon asked. "He is my son. My son with Brandon Stark" Brandon lived but he was now married to Catelyn. "He is married to Catelyn Tully now" Robert said and she nodded. "I know" she replied. "The boy is a bastard" Tywin said and she glared at the man. "Kill her now. Avoid another rebellion" Tywin Lannister said and everyone turned to look at him. "I know you would like that, my lord. Did you enjoy having Elia and her children murdered as well?" she asked. "Lannisters. They have always been traitors. That has not changed in the past two hundred years it seems" he took a step but Ned Stark stood near her.

"Princess Rhaenyra is not at fault for her brother's sins. She is innocent" he spoke for her. "She's a whore! She and that bastard son of hers will bring nothing but trouble to the realm just as her brother has!" Tywin said. Ser Arthur, pulled out his sword as did Ned. "Hold your tongue, Lannister" was all Ser Arthur said. "Mind your tongue, Lannister" Robert stood in front of her. Rhaenyra was known as the Realm's Angel. or the Realm's Desire. Some even called her the Realm's Delight, referring at the nickname the realm gave the black queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, her ancestor.

"I propose a marriage between King Robert Baratheon and princess Rhaenyra Targaryen" Jon said making both Robert and Rhaenyra to look at him. "She's a child" Arthur said. "A child who bore a healthy son" Tywin scoffed. "She's been sullied. She cannot marry a king" he stated. "Robert has bed at least half of Westeros. It will not matter. Let's remember that House Velaryon, House Tyrell, and House Martell still support house Targaryen. This will ensure the peace in the realm. Specially after the chaos that this rebellion imposed on the realm" Robert looked at Rhaenyra. She was a child. She was seven years younger than him. She nodded. She did not object. She hoped that as the queen she could keep her son and brother safe.

It wasn't long before she was married off. The princess did not complain, she did not fight, she obeyed. They got married on the Great Sept. Brandon arrived with his family. With his wife and their son. Their legitimate son. It was said that Brandon loved her, he married Catelyn Tully for duty. He married her so her father could be on their side when the war was just beginning. He loved Rhaenyra as some said she loved him. But, the world will never know if she loved him as much as he did her. That was another secret she would take to her grave.

She sat with her husband as he drank himself numb. Robert didn't love her, she was sure he never would but he cared for her. When she arrived to her new chambers she found a box, inside laid three eggs. One was a black with red. The other was red with gold, and the other one was a blue and white color. Robert arrived a while later. The two did her their duty as quick as possible, Robert tried to be gentle but Rhaenyra was a woman of passion and asked for more and he complied. Perhaps it would not be so bad.

Princess Rhaenyra gave birth nine moons later to a son. A son who she named Daemon Baratheon Targaryen. Daemon was all his mother but the eyes. He held Rhaegar Targaryen's eyes. A year after him came Orys Baratheon, now that one was a Baratheon through and through. There was no ounce of Rhaenyra on him. Prince Aemon came two years later along with Aemond who were the spitting image of his mother. Robert used to laugh when he spoke to Rhaenyra about their sons as the boys all resemble her but not him aside from Orys.

Robert loved Jaehaerys as his own son, he had taken him and Viserys as his wards. He began to teach them how to fight. When the princess decided to visit Dragonstone a tragedy struck her. She had miscarried. The Maester had told her she had been poisoned. To bury her child, she had pyre made for the cremation and her dragon eggs were set inside alongside the babe. Her child had died but she left her mother with the greatest gift she could ask for. Dragons. Three of them. The eldest she called Balerion as the dragon was the spitting image of the black dread. The other she named Caraxes as the dragon was the same color and it seemed he too would look like the first blood wyrm. The third she named Syrax as he had been just like queen Rhaenyra's dragon. When she returned she returned with three dragons on her shoulder. House Targaryen would prevail.

[ktwritesstuff]

Into the Fire (a Game of Thrones fanfic, sort of...)

Title: Into the Fire Fandom: Game of Thrones, with all due disrespect :D Rating: Explicit Characters & Pairings: Oberyn Martel x Targaryen!reader (with a side of Ellaria) Word Count: ~4,000 Summary: Prince Oberyn saves your life and eventually does what Oberyn does with you. Beta-read by the illustrious @bs-fangirl. Additional content notes below the cut.

Content Notes: I don't know that much about Game of Thrones and most of what I do know I don't care for. But I do like Prince Oberyn. Expect a bit of violence, first time, light breeding kink, oral, poly-dynamics, unprotected p-in-v, probably a bunch of other tropes I've missed. It's Oberyn, "dead dove, do not eat" applies.

Into the Fire

You had escaped the madness at King’s Landing (in part thanks to the belated arrival of Ned Stark’s troops and the ensuing confusion among the enemy’s forces.)  You did not make it five miles–on foot at night–before being set upon by slavers, opportunists taking advantage of the chaos.  At least they saw more value in you alive than dead.

You were frightened when the soldiers came, thinking they must have been sent by Baratheon the usurper.  From the wagon at first all you could see was the flash of a golden spear in the firelight.  A whole troop of men fell upon the bandits, but there may as well have only been one.  He moved so swiftly and so well, like a tongue of red flame wicking through the forest.  

He was the most beautiful creature you had ever seen, even before they pulled you from the wagon and you saw the banner emblazoned with a red sun.  These men were of House Martell, not Lannister, and if your luck held you might live to see another day.

“What is this?” asked the man in red.

“A Targaryen bastard by the looks of her,” one of the soldier’s growled, seizing a handful of your corn-silk hair and turning your face toward the fire.  Your looks were not so other-worldly as your cousins, but at least you bore a close enough resemblance that he did not mistake you for a Lannister.    

“I’m nobody,” you pleaded.  “I’m nobody.”

The man in red drew close enough that you could make out the features of his face.  You had seen Prince Oberyn only once before, at Rhaegar and Elia’s wedding feast, but his looks were unforgettable.  You were surprised it had taken you so long to recognize him and even more surprised that he seemed to recognize you.

“I know your face,” he said.  “You were a maid to Princess Elia; you were at King’s Landing.  Tell me what you saw.”

“I hid–” you whimpered as the soldier pulled your hair.  

“You abandoned your lady,” he said.  

“No,” you cried.  “When Lannister turned on us, the guards took her.  I hid in the servant’s passages.  I heard Tywin Lannister give the order to the one they call the Mountain to murder Elia’s children.  I went to the nursery, but the children were gone.  I searched for them–”

You admitted to all that you had seen.  The gore, the horror.  Elia cleaved in two from root to navel and her children smashed.  The anguish that would never leave you.  All the while Prince Oberyn’s face remained still as a stone, but you could see the sorrow and rage behind his dark eyes.

“You lie!” The soldier accused.  “How could a mere girl escape such chaos unspoiled?”  

“The same way anyone does,” you said.  “Blind luck.”

The prince paced alongside the wagon, assessing you, sizing you up.    

“And you’re sure it was Tywin who gave the order?” he asked.  

“I swear,” you nodded.  “On my life.”  

The prince wanted to ride for King’s Landing immediately and dispatch Tywin himself, but ultimately his generals dissuaded him from such rash action.  In the meantime, they gave you bread and wine and allowed you to rest in the first safety you had known in days.  It was dawn before you saw the prince again.  Even with a frown and deep lines etching his forehead, he was still the loveliest man you had ever seen.

“I can leave you a mount and a bit of gold for your journey,” he said.  “But I cannot spare any of my men to return you to your people.”

Over time the sacred words of your house had become twisted.  The life-giving warmth of fire and the sacred blood of kinship and covenant had turned to violence and ambition.  Was it any wonder that Aerys’s reign had festered?  But sweet Elia, a gentle princess and devoted mother, you would have followed her anywhere.

“I loved your sister,” you said.  “Her people are my people.”  

“Very well,” Prince Oberyn said, and for a moment a look crossed his face.  You would have sworn he was pleased.  “We sail for Dorne first thing tomorrow.”

 

You had passed six long years in Prince Oberyn’s harem, wanting for almost nothing.  The court at Dorne was filled with carnal delights you have never before experienced: music and dancing, glittering jewels, perfumed baths, and the finest food.  All of it available to you.

And the prince’s other concubines doted on you.  When you first arrived in Dorne at 19 they considered you a baby.  Meanwhile gossip at court held that your young cousin had been married off to a Dothraki warlord across the sea.  Not that you would have traded places with young Daenerys, but in six years Oberyn had not once invited you to his bed.  Besides the occasional chaste kiss on the hand or cheek he had not laid a finger on you.  

Ellaria counseled you to be patient, that your time would come.  But after so much time you were beginning to think Prince Oberyn had only taken you in as a matter of duty–that he had no desire for you at all.  Like all the prince’s lovers, you were free to have any man or woman you desired, but you didn’t want another lover.  You wanted the prince.

For your twenty-fifth nameday, the prince’s concubines plaited your hair, painted your face, and dressed you in fine silks.  You felt lovely and terribly grownup, despite your lack of experience.

“Come,” Ellaria said with a conspiratorial grin.  “Let’s go bathe in the southern garden, where the prince will see you from his window.”

The southern garden was a lush oasis tucked inside the palace walls.  There was a clear saltwater pond surrounded by dry grasses and desert flowers.  You disrobed in the shade of the palm fronds and slid into the water.

The lack of modesty among the prince’s inner circle had of course taken some getting used to after the formalities of King’s Landing.  But ultimately you came to realize, there were many worthy admirers of your particular pale softness among the hard and tanned bodies of Dorne.  Why should you deny them their pleasure, when those who didn’t appreciate your form were free to look away.

“Aren’t you coming?” you called to Ellaria, who was sunning herself in a chaise.  

“I’m quite happy to enjoy the view,” Ellaria said as you swam.  You chuckled at her playful flirting.  You could understand, despite her low birth, how she could command so much of the prince’s affection.  In all of Dorne, her beauty knew no equal and her charm was irresistible. 

You loved to swim–floating, mostly–especially when the water was so cool and inviting.  It was still early, the sun had not yet reached its apex, but the air was already hot and dry.  You could see the prince’s window, watched his curtains moving in the warm breeze.  You saw the prince come to the window, looking as if he had just roused from sleep.  He leaned on the sill, watching as you stroked your way lazily across the pool.

When the sun had warmed your belly, you turned over to paddle your way back into the shade.  You lost sight of Prince Oberyn, only for him to reappear on the steps down to the garden in his splendid red robe with a sheet of fine linen draped over one arm.  

“You should keep this one out of the sun, Ellaria,” he warned.  “She wasn’t made for it.”

You frowned as Prince Oberyn beckoned you to him.  You rose from the pool reluctantly and he wrapped you in the sheet.

“I’m not afraid of being burnt, my Prince,” you protested as he draped the fabric over your shoulders and rubbed your arms to dry them.  

“I’m well aware, my little dragon,” he said, touching your chin gently.  “But how would it look for my prize to wander through Sunspear as red as a berry.”

You tucked the sheet under your arms and tied it off to secure it.  

“Isn’t she beautiful, my love,” Ellaria said, rising from her chaise to join you in the shade.  

“Very beautiful,” Oberyn agreed.  He rested his hands on your shoulders, looking past you to gaze at Ellaria.  “All the more reason to keep her from burning to a crisp.”

“Hair like spun gold,” Ellaria noted, gathering your damp braids in her hands, wrapping them back into your gold hairpin. “Skin so smooth, just like fresh cream.  And so soft.”

The prince hummed to himself, watching her work.  

Ellaria pressed her front against your back, she was almost a head taller than you, and you could feel the warmth of her sex against the small of your back.  Her hands moved down your neck, her fingertips brushing the tops of your breasts.     

“You like her soft, don’t you, lover?  I’ve seen how you enjoy a bedfellow who gives.”  

“I do,” said the prince, dipping his mouth toward Ellaria’s lips, perched beside your ear.  “Why do you think I keep her so well?”

A jolt of excitement raced up your spine from your core as they kissed. You realized you enjoyed hearing them talk about you, around you, like this.

Ellaria slid her hands around your waist to the prince’s hips, pulling him into your body.  You could feel the hardness of his cock pressing into your belly.  

Ellaria moved one hand to the side of your head, turning away from the prince to catch your mouth in a kiss.  Her lips were impossibly soft against yours and she tasted like honeyed wine.  Then Prince Oberyn bowed his face toward yours and you didn’t know whose tongue was in your mouth.  You felt dizzy with pleasure.  

Ellaria pulled away and you moaned for the loss, but Prince Oberyn was holding your face in his large hands and his tongue was moving past your teeth, delving toward your throat.  Your body felt like soft clay, molding into them.  Ellaria kissed your neck, taking your hands in hers, moving them into Prince Oberyn’s robe.

“Like this,” she whispered, guiding your hands over his chest, fingernails scraping against his nipples, palming the hard muscles traversing his abdomen.  

The prince’s skin was nearly as smooth as yours, until your hands reached the wiry hair trailing down to his swollen cock.  The prince moaned into your mouth as Ellaria positioned your hands around him.  

“Gently,” she instructed.  “You’re doing so well.” 

As you carefully stroked the prince’s shaft, Ellaria’s hands moved across your body, kneading your breasts, traveling down the soft curves of your belly to grope at your mons, assessing the wetness of your inner folds. 

“She’s ready,” Ellaria said.  “Take her.”

Prince Oberyn pulled away from you panting.  Your own chest heaved with exertion and your head swam.

“Are you coming?” he asked.

“Not today, lover,” Ellaria said, running a perfectly shaped fingernail down your nose affectionately.  “Today is for our little dragon.”    

“Come,” Oberyn instructed, leading you by the hand up the steps to his bedchamber.  “There’s another nameday gift waiting for you yet.” 

You hesitated, turning back toward Ellaria, looking for assurance or permission.

“Go,” she said, shooing you along with a friendly smile.  “Go!  Enjoy yourself.”

You followed Prince Oberyn up the stairs, full of uncertainty and excitement.  His bedchamber was the finest you had ever seen: the heavy wooden furniture was ornately carved and polished to a mirror-like shine, hand-woven rugs stretched nearly from wall-to-wall.  At the very center of the room was an exquisite canopy bed with silken drapes of red and gold.

“Sit,” the prince urged, motioning to the bed.  

You took a seat at the end of the bed, leaning back on your forearms, anticipating your long-awaited ravishing with something akin to glee.  Instead, the prince retrieved a lidded basket from the table and brought it over to the bed.

“For you,” he said.  “A gift; be gentle with it.”

Your lips parted in surprise.  You lifted the lid of the basket, gazing down into its contents:  armor-like scales, writhing, and hissing softly.  You counted three pointed, perfect heads with shining black eyes. 

“Oh,” you sighed, reaching into the basket, allowing one of the serpents to coil around your fingers.  “They are beautiful, my prince.” 

You lifted the first creature out of the basket; its scales shining copper in the sunlight as its forked tongue darted out to catch your scent.

“Are they dangerous?”

“Only if they bite,” Oberyn said, reaching into the basket to retrieve another snake for you to examine.  

“Are they likely to bite?” you asked, the snake in your hand coiled its tail around your wrist.  You marveled at it, reaching for its final companion, a tiny, emerald-green thing which wove its head in and out from between your fingers.

“Not these hand-raised babies,” Oberyn said, pressing his face toward the snake’s in a show of faith.  “All they want is to be kept warm and safe and fed on the finest rats Dorne has to offer.”

“Like me,” you laughed.  

“Are you partial to rat, little dragon?” Oberyn smiled, returning the snakes to their basket.  “I will have to inform Cook!” 

You laughed, leaning back in Oberyn’s bed as he set the basket aside.

“Thank you, my Prince,” you said.  “I adore them.”

“I am glad,” Oberyn said, returning to the bed.  “Rumor has it your cousin has added three dragons to her command, but this is the best I could do.”

“They’re splendid, my Prince,” you said.

Oberyn leaned over you, placing a hand on the base of your throat as he kissed you.  

“I can’t wait to show the others.”  

“Catalina is afraid of snakes,” he warned, his mouth trailing down your neck.  You cradled his head in your hands, tilting your chin back to expose your throat.

“Then Catalina will learn to stay out of my room,” you chuckled.

Oberyn paused as his mouth reached the space between your breasts, curling his fingers under the sheet that still covered you.  His eyes darted to your face.

“May I?”  

“Please,” you gasped, arching into him.  

Oberyn opened the sheet, taking each of your breasts in his hand, pressing the flat of his tongue against each nipple one after the other, nipping and sucking until they were swollen and sensitive.  You could feel your arousal coiling like a snake at the base of your spine.

“So beautiful,” he breathed against your skin.  “So sweet.”

“Now you,” you pleaded, touch the collar of his robe.  “Please, my Prince.”  

Oberyn grinned, rising from the bed to undo his robe.  His body perfectly lean and hard and golden stood in stark contrast to yours.  His cock thick and long, sprouting from a nest of dark hair fully erect; you thought he must be large, though you didn’t have much to compare him to. 

You turned over on the bed, crawling to him on hands and knees.

“Can I taste you, my Prince,” you asked.

Oberyn took your face in his hand, playfully squeezing your cheeks until your lips pursed.

“How could I deny this face,” he said, settling onto the bed.  

Oberyn turned onto his back, supporting himself on his forearms so he could watch as you moved over him.  You took his shaft in one hand, lapping at the tip.  It was different than you expected, a heady, earthy musk, salty and sour on your tongue.  Oberyn made a soft, satisfied sound from deep in his throat.

“More,” Oberyn instructed, placing a hand on the back of your head.  

You opened your mouth wide, wrapping your lips around him.  Oberyn sighed, letting his head fall back against the cushions.  Try as you might, you could not reach to his root, surfacing for air only to gag yourself in the next attempt.  As you moved up and down Oberyn’s length, the sounds of pleasure turned to something more like discomfort.

“Stop,” he ordered through gritted teeth, silk sheets bunched in one hand.  “Stop.”

You sat back on your heels with a frown as Oberyn sighed with relief to have his cock freed from your toothsome maw.  

“I’ve displeased you, my Prince,” you said, horrified that the unbreakable prince of House Martell would lay down his weapon rather than suffer your untutored enthusiasm.  

“No,” Oberyn beckoned you to him.  “Never.  You need more practice, that’s all.”  

You stretched out on the bed beside Oberyn and his hands explored the curves of your body.  

“You shall have your pick of my men as a bedfellow,” he assured you, interlacing his fingers with yours, lifting your hand to his lips.  “And once you’ve had sufficient preparation, we can try again.  You’ll have many more opportunities to amuse me, little dragon.”

Oberyn’s fingers wandered, tracing each of the pale lines adorning your breasts and belly.  If one didn’t know better, they might have assumed you had already had a baby.

“I’m going to put my fingers inside you,” Oberyn explained.

“On my honor, I am a maid, my lord,” you said as his fingers circled the sensitive jewel at the peak of your folds.  The serpent in your belly that had lain dormant for so long coiled tighter.

“On my honor, I care not,” Oberyn teased.  “Though it is a special pleasure to be the first to delve into this cave. I don’t know what tales are circulated by Targaryen oldwives, but in Dorne our women are taught never to suffer inattentive lovers.  Maid or not this should be quite pleasurable for you.”  

You bit your lip as Oberyn probed one finger past your entrance, then a second.  A little tight, a little stretched, but not uncomfortable.   

“More?” he asked, probing deeper.  You gripped his shoulders and shook your head.  

“Not yet,” you said.  

Oberyn waited, pressing his thumb into the peak of the wishbone between your legs.  The serpent writhed.

“What are you doing to me,” you moaned, clutching the silk sheets.

“You’ll know soon enough,” Oberyn said, his fingers curling inside you.  You shrieked as he touched a place inside you that sent a lightning bolt of pleasure racing up your spine.  

“There,” Oberyn chuckled, withdrawing his hand to hold your face as he kissed you.  “I’m sorry to report you are too small to take all of me.  There are, of course, other avenues we can explore.”

Oberyn reached around you to squeeze the globe of your ass and you gasped in excitement.  

“But that is for another time,” he said, moving over you.  “Today is yours to enjoy.  When I press into you I want you to close your legs so I can fuck your thighs while I fuck your cunt.”

You nodded, spreading your knees so that Oberyn could settle between them, aligning his cock at your entrance, rubbing against you spreading the slickness of your arousal over himself.  You felt a sharp tug as you closed your knees around him.

“Pain?” Oberyn asked, slowly pressing his hips into you.  

You shook your head.  “It’s not bad.”  

“Breathe, little dragon,” he said, bowing his head to kiss your breasts.  

Oberyn’s movements put pressure against that sensitive spot and as he flicked his hips into you, you could feel the serpent in your core coiling tighter and tighter.  You moaned with abandon, letting your head fall back against the cushions.  

“Good?”  

“Yes,” you panted, clawing at his arms, his back, scrambling for purchase. 

“My little dragon has a fire in her belly,” Oberyn teased. “So hot for me, strong and eager.”

You moaned, arching into him. 

“Tell me,” you pleaded, reaching to pull him into another kiss, hot, wet, and hungry.  “Tell me more about what you want to do to me.”

“Such a needy little girl,” Oberyn panted, gripping your thigh.  “Already drunk off my cock.”

You purred in agreement, biting down on Oberyn’s lower lip, your pupils blown so wide your pale eyes were nearly as dark as his.    

“I’ll make you mine,” he said.  “A finer mount than any dragon. My love, my plaything.”

“Please,” you mewled. “Anything…anything you desire.”

 Oberyn ran a hand down your body, arching his back like a cat, his gaze settling on the space below your naval. 

“I’m going to fuck a baby into you,” he said. “I want your breasts to swell and your belly to stretch with my child.”

You moaned, dragging your hands down his sweat damp back to grip the hard muscles of his ass.  The snake coiling in your belly finally struck, every fiber in your body crackled like hot coals.  You gasped as Oberyn fucked you through your climax. 

As his thrusts slowed to a desperate grind, he withdrew from you and spent his seed on your belly and chest.  He rolled off of you, onto his pillows, dragging one hand through the mess he had made of you. 

He pressed two fingers to your lips and you took them into your mouth, suckling his spend from them like a newborn kitten after cream. 

“You’ve done me wrong, Oberyn,” you sighed, turning onto your side to meet his gaze. 

Oberyn reached over you to strike your ass with the flat of his hand once, hard, and you yelped. Another thrill of pleasure raced through you. 

“You forget yourself,” he warned. “I am still your prince.”

He grabbed your face and kissed you, claiming your mouth with his own.  You panted as he finally released you, resting your hands on his chest. 

“You promised me a baby,” you said. “And all you’ve made me is a mess.”

“In time, my sweet,” he said, gathering your body into his. “I’d like to have you to myself a while longer.”  

Oberyn brushed your sweat-damp hair from your face and kissed your brow. 

“You need another bath,” he warned. “To freshen up for the feast.”

“What feast, my prince,” you asked, tracing the neat line of his beard with your fingers. 

“We could not let a 25th nameday go unmarked,” he said with a wry smile. “Just a small celebration, little dragon.  My brother has graciously allowed us use of the great hall to mark the occasion, or at least he will.”

“You spoil me, my lord,” you sighed.

 

Prince Oberyn escorted you to the great hall himself; there was already a fire raging in the very center of the room filled with wine and laughter and gaiety.  You didn’t even notice Ellaria until she managed to slink up behind you to whisper in your ear.

“You are glowing,” she said and you laughed as her arms trailed around your waist.  "I take it you enjoyed your time together."

“Very much,” you said.  “Truthfully I’m surprised I’m still standing.”

“Then sit,” she said.  “Lover, we’re going to sit.”

She leaned over to kiss Prince Oberyn on the mouth–the same mouth that just hours before had transversed every unspeakable place on your body.  You took a seat on a cushion at one of the low tables surrounding the fire and Oberyn summoned a page to bring you wine and sweet date cakes, before running off to make merry with a handsome young courtier.  

“Did you put him up to this?” you asked as Ellaria draped one arm around you.  

Ellaria scoffed.  

“Hardly,” she said, twisting her fingers through your hair.  “A nudge, that’s all.  Just a little reassurance.  Even princes know to fear dragons.”

You took Ellaria’s hand in yours and placed a kiss on her palm.

“Thank you.”   

End Notes: Ta da! Thanks to all who voted and all who've read this far. What do you think? Are you interested in more?

[absurdthirst]

The Dornish Sun {Oberyn Martell x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 18.1k

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

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

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

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

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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

|| MasterList || Oberyn Martell MasterList ||

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

“Daughter, you need to give yourself time-“

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

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

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

**** 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

**** 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Exquisite, my princess.” Ellaria declares breathlessly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

**** 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Another Life

Pairing(s): implied/referenced Rhaegar Targaryen x Stark!Reader, Ned Stark x Catelyn Tully, Robert Baratheon x Cersei Lannister

Warnings: canonical character death, illegitimacy, cat actually loves jon in this story, drabble, short, robert and cersei actually like eachother

Words: 1269

Lyanna watches Jon from atop of the courtyard's parapet, her eyes crinkling with pride as she watches Jon best Theon Greyjoy at the dance of swords. Every victory Jon made resulted in him outgrowing the label of bastard. He was so much more than a bastard of Winterfell. Not even Catelyn saw him as such. Many were so shocked when the news came that Ned had brought back his bastard one day. In fact Cat had shown up at Winterfell by his side as he held the infant in his arms, for she was one of three that knew the truth about Jon Snow.

Heartache nibbles at her heart when she recalls fifteen years prior. She remembers her sister (y/n). The fever of her cheeks as she held her newborn son in her arms. But she wasn't faring well. Birth rendered her near lifeless, allowing her to slip slowly away into the Stranger's arms. It was only a matter of time. She refused to leave the Tower of Joy, understood her fate as well as her siblings and sister-in-law did. (y/n) had just been content with the fact that she'd birthed a healthy baby boy.

"Jon." Her watery eyes turn up to Lyanna. "His name is Jon."

After Rhaegar's closest friend. Jon Connington was the one to deliver the note to Winterfell, ensuring it fell into the safe hands of the young Warden of the North himself. He'd been instructed by his revered lady, Princess (y/n) Targaryen.

The name was a slap to the face. A year prior to the birth of her son, (y/n) had supposedly been kidnapped by Rhaegar Targaryen who was supposed to marry Elia Martell the following day. Both up and vanished without a trace. Lord Rickard Stark was beside himself with grief and agony that they stormed to the capital to demand answers from King Aerys himself. Lord Rickard and his heir Brandon accused the king of hiding the location of Rhaegar and (y/n), said that she was to be returned immediately and the prince punished. But Aerys didn't take kindly to the slander they were slewing against the crown. He had them executed.

Ensuing blood shed consumed the Seven Kingdoms. Rhaegar appeared only on the battlefield with his own men. They fought against not just the king, but Ned and his own allies which included Storm's End. No sign of (y/n) nearby.

After Robert Baratheon killed Rhaegar and the regicide of the Mad King by the young lion Jaime Lannister, there was still no clue as to where (y/n) could be.

Robert, though it was Jaime who slew the king, secured the Iron Throne for himself. That meant Lyanna would be queen as she was engaged to Robert. She refused.

When Ned implored her to marry Robert, she gave him the tongue lashing of the century but it did the job in shutting him up. He couldn't force Lyanna to do something she didn't want to. That lesson was learned in childhood. If she desired to stay in the North then she would stay. Slighted at first, it didn't take him long to choose another bride. Cersei Lannister. A beautiful couple. Lyanna was happy that Robert even seemed to be truly smitten with the golden haired girl. They couldn't keep their hands off of each other.

Or so she was told. She couldn't attend their lavish wedding, not when her sister was still out there somewhere.

Day and night she worked in searching for (y/n). Northmen scattered across the vast land took part in looking for her.

They'd nearly given up.

And then Jon Connington delivered a letter in (y/n)'s handwriting.

She and Rhaegar had eloped. Rhaegar couldn't marry Elia Martell, he didn't love her but there was absolutely no way that Aerys would let him marry (y/n) Stark. Even (y/n) had kept her love for him a secret from everyone in her family.

Getting married as soon as they could. They had a short honeymoon for the war started shortly after. Jon Connington was entrusted with (y/n)'s safety, and though he wanted to be with Rhaegar on the battlefield, he held (y/n) in high regard. He agreed without much hesitation.

Soon she discovered she was pregnant. The pregnancy wasn't going well for her. She was constantly sick and weak. She didn't have long.

In her note, (y/n) specifically wanted Lyanna, Ned and his new bride to come. Only them. They were not to tell anyone else. Cat was loathe to leave her own baby Robb but knew how important this was for Ned and his family so of course she agreed to go. Leaving Robb pained her.

Jon was but a week old by the time they arrived to the Tower of Joy. The Sword of the Morning himself stood guard at the tower's entrance.

The babe was healthy. The same couldn't be said of his mother.

She was gaunt, so gray. This wasn't the sister Ned and Lyanna grew up with. Her smile was still the same though, even if it was a little strained. To each of them she spoke to, having the other two wait.

All of them, including Jon Connington and Arthur Dayne were to take this secret to their graves.

(y/n) died two days later.

"I know that look."

Lyanna jolts at Ned's voice, ripped from her melancholic memories. She presses her lips together. Ned grew into a fine lord. A horde of children filled the halls of the castle. Among them was the boy they thought their bastard brother. "Sometimes I can't help but think about her when I see him. He has her big, sweet eyes."

Ned nods. "He does." He rests his forearms on the wooden rail and looks down into the courtyard where Jon swung his sword in the way that Arthur Dayne had shown him that morning. Off to the distance was Jon Connington watching with a close eye. Theon and Robb are trying it out as well.

Jon was thriving. No one caught on to the truth of him. Never even breaching the surface. Many asked who the mother was since Ned agreed to claim fathership over him.

Bittersweet for the siblings watching their nephew grow up without his real mother and father. It was better this way. (y/n) wanted her son to grow up in the north opposed to the death and discrimination he might receive from being raised in the capital. Not just that, but Robert Baratheon was now entirely against the entire Targaryen line. He was already trying to locate the missing Prince Viserys and Princess Daenerys with plans to execute them if they're ever found. Children. It was insane that his queen was supporting the king's search for them. His claim to the throne was in danger as long as there was even one Targaryen left alive. And unfortunately Jon was included.

That day his sister died, Ned swore to her that he would protect Jon with his life; even if that meant protecting him against his own friend he thought of as a brother. Lyanna, Ned and Cat had spent sleepless nights speaking about the possibility of Robert finding out about Jon. Their voices hushed, only the quiet flame in the fireplace bore witness to the secrets being discussed.

They would never allow the secret of Jon's parents to become public knowledge. (y/n) entrusted Jon's life to them and they would not disappoint her. They would defend the boy with their life and take his secret to the afterlife.

[theship-thewalrus]

Hi could you do a Tywin Lannister x Targaryen reader where the reader is the surviving daughter of Elia Martell and Rhaegar Targaryen ( aegons twin) saved by Ned stark and raised by the starks she'll be know as Robb stark twin sister an arranged one shot where the two are married

twyin lannister x female!reader

pretty much the same as the ask :)

word count: 1024 words reading time: about 5 minutes warnings: mentions death. Very, very brief mention of what happened to Elia Martell

The Starks were a large, mismatched family with a bastard and a ward that they looked after amongst their own children. Amongst the various secrets in their family, the was a large looming secret that was kept with the utmost importance. That their oldest daughter, twin to Robb, was not truly their daughter. Instead, one of the last living Targaryens, living in the North and as a Stark. Her hair was dyed a deep black to help hide the otherwise snow-white hair. It was of the utmost importance it was regularly dyed to ensure it was she was safe. No one outside of the family knew of such a secret, many believing she was simply (Y/N) Stark.

You were married to Tywin Lannister after the man realised he needed a successor. Jamie nor Tyrion was fit to rule over Casterly Rock. They did not have the drive or power to rule House Lannister, thus he needed another. It was well known the Lord of Casterly Rock was obsessed with the betterment of his house. When the opportunity arose to marry a Stark, excelling his relations in the North and producing an heir, he took it.

Your wedding was extravagant, a large feast with many notable houses invited to wish the best to the pair. Many wishes and gifts were given, even before the wedding commenced. Though you seemed less than excited at the festivities, a fake smile sat on your face for most of the night. It was not that Tywin was a hideous man, much the opposite, you simply had no knowledge outside whispers and tales about the man. A dictator. A murderer. A widower. You had heard of what he planned to do to the Targaryens, what his son did to the King. To hear the murders of your family had always put you on edge, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. But you never had the misfortune to be close to the people who had murdered them. To marry someone who allowed the rape and murder of your mother and siblings. It was fear that fueled you, though he knew not of your true name, you feared if he ever did your fate would be the same as your mother.

During your relationship with the man, you dyed your hair more than usual. Doing it an almost unhealthy amount, that you feared what might happen if he saw even a strand of your natural hair. He was a smart man, easily reading people and putting two and two together. You knew even the slightest whiff of something he would be on it like a bloodhound.

Yet over the years, you both began to grow true feelings for one another. You began to become more relaxed around the man you had feared for some time. Going back to dying your hair less, being more open about your life instead of the shell of the person you were when they met. You both share quality time together, simply going through the steps to falling in love.

But with comfort came carelessness, as things began to slip. Truths were slowly coming to the surface. Tywin begins to take more notice of certain things. How you dye your hair. The fear and wariness when the Mountain was just mentioned. Whenever asking any question about it, you stirred away from such a thing, moving the focus to anything but the topic at hand. Tywin was not one to entertain secrets and lies within his family. Treating them like weeds in a garden, needing to be uprooted and taken out before they grew too much.

Deciding he had had enough of the games, trapping you in conversation before springing the questions and demanding the answers. "My Lady Wife, I have a question for you?" You had been chatting about what happened that day, how you talked through the garden, what you saw, and who you talked to. Simply thinking the question would be based on that, you nodded happily "Of course, ask me anything." You looked at him so innocently, a soft smile on your face. "I want to ask about your hair. Is black its natural colour?" You laugh slightly at his question, but there was an underlying worry. "Of course, my love. Why would you think it was not?"

He took notice of the worry in your voice, no matter how small or slight it was. His eyes bore into your own, his face void of emotion, you felt like a mouse going up against a cat. "It just seems to dull one day and then the next it is much deeper. Can you explain?" His words were chosen carefully, stringing them together, eyes burning you into your seat. You wanted nothing more to get away from this conversation, but you knew it would only bring more questions. You knew your husband was a tactical man, piecing things together in his mind, wanting to catch you in a lie.

"Perhaps it was simply the light that day? The weather had been strange as of late." It was a lie wrapped in truth, hoping it was enough to set him off his trail. But he did not falter eyes looking at you questioningly, as if he was asking if that truly was your final answer. But you attempt to stay stone face, mirroring your husband. "Do not lie to me. I do not take well to lies." It was meant to evoke fear within you, to use your fear to get the truth from you. But you would not crack so easily to be scared of the consequences of telling the truth than telling a lie.

"I do not speak lies. It is the truth, my love. Why would I lie to you?" Your voice was sweet as you lean in closer to him in the hopes it would ease the tension. But he was still like a stone, not giving her an inch. "But you do lie, you think you are a little minx. You think the sly old fox will not catch on. But it does. It always does, my sweet little dragon."

[rarepears]

Rhaegar x Ned. Where instead of falling Lyanna, Rhaegar falls for Ned in Harrenhal and crowns him as his Queen of Love and Beauty. Then Crack happens due to tribulation of Rhaegar romancing the Quiet Wolf.

You know what the Westeros public would see and think?

They think Rhaegar has been influenced by his Dornish wife's Dornish ways to even lust after a male body! And don't the Dornish allow for married men (and women) to have official mistresses? Yeah...

Plus...

Well.

Considering that Rhaegar already has a daughter and a baby - a potential male heir - is on its way, so it's not like he, as crown prince, can't take a mistress... Especially as this mistress will never threaten Elia Martell's children's succession positions.

This is a much safer alternative than previous Targaryens whose bastards (cough the Blackfyre) destabilized Westeros society and economy for decades.

-o-o-o-o-

As for Rhaegar, imagine jousting under the bright noon sun and your opponents are covered in shining metal steel that is reflecting all the sun into your eyes.

And now Rhaegar is trying to peer into the stands - and the stands are shaded by draperies, so he squints and still struggles to make out who is who - he intends to gift the flower crown to the Stark daughter, but ends up passing it to Ned Stark instead...

Oops.

(But also it starts a terrible scandalous affair that only continues to grow larger and larger with each whisper and gossip passed between the ladies... It's only evitable that Rhaegar, who decides to meet up with Ned Stark to keep his father's paranoia from growing worse and hears way too much of the gossip, ends up falling in love...)

[bol-stark]

Of Kingdoms and Crown

After a multiple year break from writing fan fictions I’m finally back and found amazing writing partners. Feel free to take a look at our main fic and leave us a comment or kudos if you like it.

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