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chaoticsealover · 1 year

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A tale of serpents and dragons:Prologue

Aemond Targaryen x Martell OC

Hello everyone! Hope you all are doing fine :) I'm just passing by to drop the next part of this fic: the prologue. I hope you like it as much as I do, and again, feel free to comment whatever your feelings are while reading it and of course, I accept any kind of constructive criticism that you may have. Without further ado, I let you enjoy the prologue :) Enjoy your reading!

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

Warnings: Curse words. Mention of ghosts. Mention of death.

Introduction |

King's Landing, 120 AC

The Red Keep silhouette towered over King’s Landing like a dragon, thought Nymeria, a big red dragon who has been converted into rock and forced to keep quiet and silent, with his roars and fire guarded into his stone heart.

She has always dreamed of dragons: dragons that emerged from the sea, dragons whose wings were made of palms and flowers whose flight left a trace of jasmine scent, dragons whose throat threw out daggers of ice instead of fire, freezing everything around them when they passed by. She didn’t remember when she started to dream about dragons, she just knew she did. It was something that has happened since she was a baby; at least it was something that happened since she can remember. Her father told her it was just a product of the stories her nana Sisi told her before sleeping, of dragons and gods, and of men who were closer to the realm of the gods than that of mankind. But she didn’t agree with her father: even if Sisi hadn’t told her those bed-time stories, she was sure her dragons were still going to come at her in dreams. It was inevitable. They were a part of her now. She didn’t tell her father that, of course, it would have just upset him, or worse, he would have called her childish. Although her father referred to her as child, affectionately by all means, she despised it. She was not a child. Well, maybe not an adult either, but she knew too much for being a child. She has devoured almost half of the library of the Old Palace. She now knew about flowers and plants, wild animals that lived beyond the wall, she knew about the philosophy of the great authors, and she even knew about how a woman came to be with children and the process of birthing (although that is something she preferred to store in the deepest corner of her mind and she vowed to never have children the first time she read about it). Not only was she keen on learning the theoretical, but she was also versed in the art of the spear. Her father had initially wanted her to train with a sword, which she did for a time, but it bored her. Swords were harsh and cold, it didn’t feel like a companion to her. She knew how to handle it and how to use it, but it still didn’t feel like it was hers. But the spear, that was her calling. It was harsh too, but it was also graceful. The spear felt just like an elongation of her arm. The spear was hers as much as her own heart.

She has convinced her father to let her bring her spear to King’s Landing with her after pleading to him for weeks and promising she would not cause any trouble with it. And there she was, sitting in her carriage, with Sisi to her left and her spear to the right. Through the small windows she could see the streets crowded with people selling all kinds of products, from pigeon meat (which she hoped they would not serve for dinner) to wines imported from Dorne. She knew they were closer to the Red Keep as Sisi was already combing her hair to look perfect and fixing her dress to “look like a western princess” she said. They have had arguments about this: why couldn’t she wear the dresses she wore at home? Or her fancy trousers she wore in the Old Palace when there was some important event? Her father had tried to explain to her how their customs were slightly different from theirs and that it would have been an offense for them if she would have appeared wearing those clothes there. Still Nymeria continued complaining about it with the hope to finally convince her father (as it always ended up happening) but this time it didn’t work as she was now wearing a not so comfortable pink toned dress with some intricate hair updo that was starting to give her headaches. The narrow streets then opened to a square and they entered through the first doors of the Red Keep. In her mind, when she entered the Red Keep there were going to be dragons flying around, dancing between them, spitting fire out of their mouths alongside their riders with silver hair and purple eyes who were almost gods. But what she found when they crossed the doors of the Red Keep wasn’t exactly as godly as she had imagined…

She stepped out of the carriage followed by her nana and stood next to her father just as she had been told. Her face must have been a mirror of her mind in that instant: there weren’t any semi-gods nor dragons, but in front of her stood an old man with blonde hair falling alongside the frames of his face and next to him a brunette woman with 3 silver-haired children. They definitely didn’t look like gods. The tall one looked like he has had 3 good nights of sleep in his entire life. Nymeria chuckled at her own thoughts. Next to him stood another boy, a little bit shorter than the other, with eyes that reminded her of the sea in Sunspear when her father let her go to the beach. But not a god, just a boy with pretty eyes she thought. The last one in line was a girl with long silver wavy hair. She had pretty hair, and a pretty face. But when Nymeria was to smile at her, she downed her eyes and left Nymeria with the impression she didn’t want to be her friend. How bored she was going to be if this was it. Maybe she could slip at night and go to the library to read. Or maybe she could convince her father to let her train with her spear and the other children. Yes, she would do that. But when she was thinking about her spear, and the sea and the night getaways to the library, she was interrupted by her father.

“My daughter, Princess Nymeria Martell of Dorne”

This was the signal. She bowed as her father told her in front of, she supposed, was King Viserys. He looked old and tired, but had a warm smile on his face. He may not be the semi god she had wished to see, but he seemed nice at least and what one could hope for the gods to be kind at least?

“My pleasure Princess Nymeria. I can still recall the first time I saw you when you were a baby” King Viserys' tone was tender and although his face was not the most pleasant to look at, his smile was kind and she found herself liking him more than she thought she would.

“Well, I cannot quite remember it” the words flew out of her mouth without a second thought. She felt her father tense up next to her and it only took her a look at the Queen and the children's faces to see that her answer was not appropriate for the situation. After hesitating for a few seconds, she tried to fix her slight mistake by adding “Your Grace”.

King Viserys burst out laughing and so his nervous father seemed to relax again and all of them let out little laughs “A fierce little one. I like this one”.

That same night Nymeria found herself in bed earlier than she was used to. Her nana Sisi has promised her that if she went to bed early, she could train with her spear the next day in the morning, otherwise, she would not have enough time for it. So, half happy and half resigned, she went to that big old wooden bed which made her feel like she was being swallowed by a whale. No matter how hard she tried to fall asleep, it was an impossible mission: she drank the glass of water on the nightstand, tried to focus on her sleep, and even tried to sleep with her head at the feet of the bed. But it proved to be a hopeless matter. Pissed at herself, she woke up and sat in a chair next to the window. King’s Landing was splashed with a million little lights in every corner and the noisy sounds of the capital were almost imperceptible. She kept looking through the window with the hope that one of the dragons came to greet her, and even maybe, he would let her touch him and then she would tell him about her dream dragons and how she waits for them every night to come back to her. But it never happened and she just kept looking at the infinite row of buildings and never-ending streets of the capital. How she wished that at least she could have a book right now… Well, maybe… maybe she could? She remembered how when talking with the king and telling him about her love of books, he had told her how her chamber was going to be next to the library, in the same part as the chambers of the rest of the royal family.

Nymeria quickly stood up and convinced about going on with this little adventure, she put on the silky robe that Sisi had packed from Dorne. It smelt like jasmine and orange blossom, and it reminded her of the long walks in the gardens of the Old Palace with her father. How she wished she was there now. But she wasn’t and she was in dire need of a book, any book, it didn’t even need to be a good one, just an entertaining one that would either keep her reading all night or otherwise, made her fall asleep in the first few pages. It would work anyway. With this though in her mind, she cautiously opened the door of her room. To her surprise, the guard stationed there was peacefully sleeping like a baby, even a trickle of drool was falling from his mouth. Well, this was going to be as easy as stealing a lemon pie from Sisi’s tray. Carefully, she stepped out of the chamber and closed the door silently. Then, she walked down the hall following the vague instruction the king gave her. According to his indications, the library was supposed to be at the start of the next hall, just a minute or so more walking. To her surprise, the halls were almost in complete darkness and although she prized herself to be brave, the truth was that all the haunting stories she had ever heard about the Red Keep were crossing her mind. Maegor the Cruel had killed every person who was working in the construction of the keep, so, maybe, their ghosts had stayed there forever to haunt the little girls who dared to escape their rooms at night. Her spear, she needed her spear. She would feel safe, if she had it with her, she could fight every enemy that she found in this gloomy hall. Suddenly, she heard a little crack behind her and she could swear she saw the shadow of a big man after her. Nymeria then found all the bravery and strength she could in her little body and ran till she was out of breath and could touch the doorknob of what King Viserys had told her it was the library. In an instant, she opened the door and closed it behind her. Nymeria could feel her heart in her chest; it was going so fast that she thought the entire keep could hear the pumping of blood through her veins. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath: she was at the library, she was just safe. It was in this instant when she heard a noise behind her and armed with all the courage she had left, turned ready to put up a fight with whatever was following her. She turned abruptly, and she was faced by the immensity of the sea of Dorne in those mornings after a storm. For a brief moment, she could swear she was at home looking at that same sea.

But it was not the sea of Dorne which was in front of her, but the silver-haired boy with pretty eyes. His eyes were looking at her perplexed and Nymeria felt embarrassed about her attitude. She must have looked stupid. Like a lost little girl. She hated that. She was not a little girl anymore. They both keep looking at each other in silence, without speaking to each other. It’s awkward, though Nymeria, so she decided to speak up but before she could open her mouth to say anything, the boy pronounced some words.

“I didn’t know I was going to have company tonight” The boy hesitated for a few seconds before adding in a whisper “Are you okay… princess?” Nymeria felt her cheeks reddened and building up courage she answered as calmly and collected as she could.

“I’m sorry if I scared you, I was just looking for a book. They didn’t let me bring one from home”

The boy looked at her, hummed and returned to the desk in which he was seated with a book. What was she going to do now? What was the correct thing to do? Stay and choose a book? Leave and do like anything has happened? Well, that would be even weirder than this. So Nymeria stayed and wandered about the library. The thing was that the library wasn’t even that big and even though she tried to disappear from the boy’s sight it was almost impossible. She tried to focus on looking at the titles of the books but all of them seemed to be pretty boring books about herbs or either way some old ragged books about laws. She didn’t know if it was better to have stayed at her chambers. At least she wouldn’t be in this situation with the boy with ocean eyes.

“I don’t think you are going to like anything in that section. It’s pretty boring” The boy spoke up and Nymeria turned to face him “At least I don’t find anything there quite… entertaining”

Nymeria looked at him and his hair. It was frizzy, but the light of the candles made the silver of his hair look the same color as the sand of Dorne. He is pretty, she thought. How she has wished to look like that: silver-haired, blue deep ocean eyes. But no, she was there, with her common brown hair and her normal brown eyes. How boring she must look to him. How oddly ordinary she felt in that instant. But she was not going to show that to him. She may look ordinary, but she was a Martell with the blood of the Rhoynar and the first men. Finding new and renovated confidence in her looks after all, she answered back.

“Oh, then, what would you recommend Prince…? I’m sorry; I’m not quite good with names”

“Aemond, my name is Aemond” The little prince looked calm, as if he was not bothered at all by the fact that she didn’t know his name. Would she be mad if he didn’t know her name? Well, she couldn’t be, right? She didn’t remember his, but she felt like it would be nice if he at least remembered her name. She found herself wishing he remembered her name “I don’t know what you like, but I enjoy this one” He lifted up one of the books from the desk and Nymeria stood up next to him, she was so close she could almost touch him.

“It’s about Old Valyria Princess Nymeria” He remembered her name. He knew who she was. Not knowing why, Nymeria felt her cheeks heaten up again. What was happening that night to her?

“Do you know about Old Valyria Princess?” She looked at his face, he looked thrilled, almost enchanted by those words. Of course she knew about Old Valyria, and about dragons, and about all the tragedies that have occurred there. She was fascinated by it. Sisi had told her everything about it, and even though she had the certainty the book couldn’t tell her anything she didn’t already knew about dragons and semi gods, she accepted the book in his hands.

“My nana Sisi told me about it. And about dragons and how their scales are even bigger than you and me” The little prince let out a little funny laugh.

“Well, some of them are not that big yet. Have you ever seen one?”

“No” Her little eyes looked at him. She was lying to him: she has seen dragons. Her dream dragons. She knows their wings, and their eyes and she knows the smell of their burning hearts. Like blood.

“My brother and my sister have one. And my nephews. They are not that big” She could perceive a hint of resentment in his tone. Does he not have a dragon?

“And yours? How is your dragon?” The silence invaded the room for a few seconds. Nymeria was starting to think that maybe the question wasn't appropriate. Prince Aemond looked at her nervously.

“No, but I will have one”

His voice was clear but behind it a curtain of sadness veiled his face. She knew that sadness, that anger too. No one ever believed her about her dragons, which were all too real for her. She could touch them and fly with them, and they would answer to her voice. In that moment, she felt connected to that little boy who claimed himself to be a prince but inside he was just afraid of being little more than a kid. Just like her. He needed this future dragon, as well as she needed her dream dragons. They were just shadows of the tomorrow, of their own dreams and their own nightmares. They were children playing a game of chess they yet needed to understand.

So she told him all about her dream dragons. Nymeria didn’t know why she trusted him, but she did. She knew he could have laughed at her, told her she was crazy, that it was just dreams. But he didn’t do that. He listened to her, like he cared about her dragons. His ocean eyes were staring directly at her, glistening with eagerness and hope and Nymeria felt the words fall out of her mouth, unable to stop. He understood her. That’s all she needed.

That night, both kids sat there, in the middle of the library among books about love ballads, battles and wars telling each other stories about imagined dragons and unborn ones, unaware of their fates collapsing and intertwining together for the rest of eternity. They didn’t know at that moment, but Aemond Targaryen and Nymeria Martell would have many more nights together to talk about dragons and dreams. How they wished to have known at that instant years later. But isn’t that what always happens with time? It will always win the race.

TAGS: @blue-serendipity

#hotd aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond fic #hotd #hotd x oc #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen #helaena targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon #alicent hightower #aemond one eye #aemond kinslayer #Nymeria Martell #Martell OC #aemond fanfiction #aemond the kinslayer #hotd oc

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blissfulphilospher · 3 months

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Jaime wants to kill Robert.

Elia wants to kill Lyanna.

Eddard Stark dies like always.

And other poor Stark's because of poor choices except Sansa.

Purple Wedding and the king dies.

Aegon wants Shireen.

Stannis want Iron Throne.

Viserys wants Dragonstone.

Margaery and Sansa get Cersei's perfect twins.

Much short snippets of plot worth seven books because I wanted the story like that.

I could have write whole chapters but they didn't fell right.

#asoiaf fanfiction #rhaenys daughter of elia #elia martell #viserys targaryen #rhaenys targaryen #aegon vi targaryen #shireen baratheon #cersei lannister #Cersei x Oberyn #margaery tyrell #sansa stark #lannister oc #martell oc #tywin lannister

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sweetscarlettangel · 6 months

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CHAPTER XXXI

CHAPTER XXXII

CHAPTER XXXIII

CHAPTER XXXIV

#aurelia martell #hotd fanfic #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #daemon x oc #firetestsgold #martell oc

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rhaenyraslaena · 2 years

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OC AESTHETICS || PRINCESS ALLYRIA NYMEROS MARTELL

❛ princess allyria nymeros martell was the youngest of prince qoren martell's children and hte younger sister of princess aliandra martell. a fiery and ambitious young princess with the hopes of her beloved dorne on her shoulders, she watched the dance of the dragons from afar and found an intoxicating warmth in the eyes of baela targaryen's bright lavender eyes. though blood would be shed in many wars before an official alliance between the martells and the targaryens would come to be, there was a great love between the two princesses. it was often said that princess baela, her husband alyn velaryon, and princess allyria made quite the charming trio — and princess allyria would return to dorne with a babe of white gold hair and eyes the color of the turquoise waters of the summer sea, and her own dusky skin. ❜

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howyouloveyourdragon · 1 year

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ao3 fic rec!

black suns and golden spears written by @beaconofthehightower

hello folks, this is a fanfic published on archive of our own which i very highly recommend so go and check it out!

fandom/s: House of The Dragon, A Song of Ice and Fire summary: Two Martell Princesses of Dorne, Ysilla and Merisa, are sent to King's Landing to maintain the relationship with House Targaryen and find themselves attracting two of the pale-haired princes pairing/s: ofc (original female character) x aemond targaryen, ofc (original female character) x aegon targaryen length: 3/? chapters, 8,952 words

chapter one:

Orange turns to black and the leaping tongues of fire in the night can only be a sign of the end and the beginning, the fragility of life and death.

oooOoo i love this description

The King forgets Otto Hightower does not.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

by the howling, whirling sandstorm that is her twin.

okay side-step but i really love twins in fiction cause the dynamics are always really diverse and interesting

Unbowed in the way she stands before him, spine stiff and head high, dark eyes burning.

martell through and through i love it

If Merisa is the spear, steadfast and true, then Ysilla is the sun, bright and unafraid to burn.

i love how while Merisa is dutiful she is still strong and doesn't fall into the stereotype that quiet dutiful women are weaker than more extroverted types

“You’d know this if your head constantly wasn’t in the clouds with your horses and your books.”

hey hey hey leave my bestie alone i'm already attached

and already as much of a terror Ysilla was at that age.

HAH

"The princess Helaena

MY LOVE

It is not the King who welcomes them, but the Queen in a gown of Hightower green.

MY WIFE

Merisa gapes at the sight of her.

as she should

"Who're you?" he demands. "Aemond!" Alicent admonishes.

pfffttt

Viserys I, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men and Protector of the Realm is almost a nightmare in the flesh. Bile rises in the back of her throat.

DRAG HIMMMM

She doesn’t notice the violet eyes that are burning into the side of her head.

"Your brother is odd, Helaena." Ysilla says after she’d caught Aemond staring at her yet again.

i love Ysilla so much, she never fails to drag these royals like damn

Aegon’s eyes slide over her in a cursory glance before falling back to his brother. Ysilla’s eyes jump between the two, book forgotten.

“You're like an angry little cat, princess. Aren't you?" Aegon says.

this bitch

The Queen’s eyes are blank as she sweeps past Helaena and Ysilla. Aemond’s eye focuses on her, as if he knows she stares at him. There is a look in it that practically goads her, begs her to say something, anything. I dare you. She says nothing.

WOO SMART BBY

chapter two:

The king who paid little to less attention to his second wife and maimed son in favor of his eldest and the insult to her and her bastards.

poor babalaroo but also lets not use that word babs

A debt unpaid; Rhaenyra winning all over again. The favored child. The firstborn.

it hurts to watch but it's true, i'm glad you're giving aemond a voice here

His sister emerges first, her lilac eyes clear as they flick hesitantly from face to face before brightening almost instantly as she ignored the hisses of her septa and darts towards them. He gawked when she pulls up short for a second, bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet as she hesitates before wrapping her arms around Ysilla.

AWWWW

Alicent said, pinching the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger in exasperation.

wifey let me run you a hot bath, get your champagne, yeah?

Ysilla thinks he does it simply to gain her attention; whether bad, good or something else entirely. A mechanism of sorts.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

trying not to squirm from the caterpillar she held in her hands.

CATERPILLERS ARE SO CUTE, FIGHT ME

by in the blink of an eye of Aemond

i had a little giggle i can't l-eye

of Aemond purposefully trying to avoid her. In the gardens. In the halls. In the library. Everywhere he can think of.

sigh

The tentative friendship, or whatever it was that had built between them after that day in the library shattered and withered, as if it had never existed in the first place.

"The younger one," Alicent murmured. "She's flowered." Otto smiled slightly. "An opportunity, this might be. To further bind Dorne to us through a marriage. Prince Qoren can do naught if one of his sisters is to marry your son.." Alicent leveled a flat look at him. "And what of the elder one? Princess Merisa?" she asked sharply, pushing against the table as she stands. "Hmm?"

"You are of age now. Old enough to find a husband."

Sunlight glimmered against the darkness of her hair as Ysilla sat with her back against the bone white tree, Aemond's silver hair sliding like water between her fingers as her nails scraped lightly against his scalp.

DEVELOPMENTT

Annoyed now, Ysilla tugged a little too hard on his hair. Aemond yelped, craning his head backwards to glare at her. "I'll feed you to Vhagar if you do that again." he grumbled.

bro really now? oml it's going to his head

but the king

ooo the little details, like not calling him father but by his title

as she felt him tense stiffly before pressing her mouth tentatively to his, then more firmly.

“I don’t think your sister likes me that much,”

pfffttt that's one way to put it

A look of distaste settled as dark as a storm cloud on his face. "In a sept, Aegon? Really?" He demanded, his fingers twitching at his sides. “Have you no shame?”

he??didnt??do??anything??yet?? (have since been told that he was drinking but babe this is aegon are we rlly that surprised?)

Merisa watched them, almost hazy, as if she was looking through glass. Something churned in her gut at the look he shared with Ysilla. Was this how it felt to lose a sister?

chapter three:

Otto Hightower had no love for the Dornish girls; that much is obvious in the purse of his mouth and wary eyes every time he saw them.

welp

"Treat them with caution, Your Grace. A snake may strike when we least expect."

literally children but go off ig

She walked closer and tentatively set her hand on his back, nearly pulling it away when she felt him stiffen and his shoulders tremble as he started to shake under her touch. “I know,” she whispers as she moved in front of him, smoothing her hands over his hair as his head fell against her neck, hands grasping her waist. "Aemond…" He let out a low choked sound in the back of his throat, his fingers sliding over the fabric of her sleeves, the calluses catching on the fine material. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his breath warm. Ysilla pulled away sharply to stare at him in bewilderment and shock. "Why are you apologizing?"

your honour i love them

"They are nothing but lickspittles and weaklings

oop

"Stop being so sullen, Aemond.” Ysilla kept her voice flat. "You're nothing but a frightened sullen boy who lost his eye to claim a stupid drag-"

His fingertips dug painfully into her sides when he yanked her closer to him, catching her mouth in an intoxicating kiss that almost makes her forget how to breathe; feeling it deep in her bones and all the way down to the tips of her feet. "You're infuriating." She snapped, pulling back and tangling her fingers into his nearly shoulder length hair. "And you're maddening," he mumbled, kissing her again and again and again, chasing the wild feeling that was her pressed against him, the wood of the shelf hard and painful at his back.

"You look lovely, daughter," King Viserys said to Helaena absentmindedly. "If only Aemma could see you now."

THIS BITCH DID NOTTT

His nostrils flare. His eye narrows. A game almost; poke a dragon. Taunt it over and over until it snaps. Aemond's face was still, one corner of his mouth slowly curving upward, wine forgotten as he moved around the elongated tables to stop in front of her. "Princess. Might I have this dance?" His eye focused solely on her face; extending his hand out palm up. At four and ten now, Aemond was a far cry from the scrawny boy he’d been; growing leaner and taller under the watchful eye of Criston Cole in the tiltyard.

simp and he doesn't even know it

“You kicked me. Why?”

i don't know why this made me laugh as hard as it did

"You're practically my mother’s shadow these days!" he protested. "What else was I going to do to see you?" he said, falling quiet, the tips of his ears pinkening a little.

wait that's cute

Sunfyre is absolutely beautiful.

the prettiest

he prince is standing at her shoulder, the barest hint of a grin stretching his thin lips upward.

i knew he'd love that jesus

"I want you, need you like the sun needs the moon,"

THAT'S SUCH A CUTE LINE JAKSKODOOSM

“It has no place in your future, dearest.”

UMMM THIS WAS WONDEFUL???? IM OBSESSED

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yosb · 6 months

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elia, oberyn, arianne. "i was the oldest and yet i am the last" 😢☀️

#house martell #elia martell #oberyn martell #arianne martell #asoiaf #game of thrones #original character #oc #character design #oc art

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kasagia · 1 year

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Could you make something like where klaus' girlfriend/wife is really attractive and all of his enemies want her(like lucien or tristan)?

Everybody wants to steal my girl

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader Summary: Klaus (and you) have been struggling with hybrid's jealousy for 1,000 years. It doesn't help that you're stunningly beautiful and that all his enemies want to steal you from him. But Klaus will not let his wife ever leave his side—or worse, lose her feelings for him. Even if he is "slightly" insecure about himself. Warning(s): jealous Klaus, jealous reader, a bit smut (I think) but not 18+, Klaus being an insecure puppy Word count: 7k I guess

She's been my queen since we were sixteen, we want the same things We dream the same dreams, alright, alright?

Klaus stormed into the abattoir in a rage. He promised himself that he would rip Lucien's heart out of his chest as soon as the circumstances were right, making sure he had suffered enough for his heinous act beforehand.

Klaus was the only one who could flirt with his wife.

He'd have to make sure that this pathetic creature got the message the next time they met. Lucien had condemned his life to death anyway, but Klaus might have had the pity to spare him from his creative torture.

Y/N didn't like it when he got blood on the floor. And when their daughter Hope came into the world, she tried to keep the violence around her to a minimum. Which didn't mean Klaus shouldn't fight every potential suitor of his baby's mother. Hope would agree with him if she was old enough.

When he calmed down, he decided to look into the room of their miracle child. He smiled, leaning against the doorframe as he saw Y/N putting their daughter to sleep. She sang an Old Norse lullaby they both knew from their human days.

Klaus flashed back to the days when he was just a teenager, head over heels in love with the daughter of their village chief. Then he wouldn't even have had a chance to hold her hand in public. His family was lower in the village hierarchy, which meant he could only dream of marrying a(n) Y/N. Which didn't stop them from falling in love. And turning her into a vampire with the Mikaelson siblings—the only thing he owed to his mother.

They both wanted and dreamed of the same thing: being together. They've had their ups and downs over the past thousand years, but they've always stayed together. She was the only person in their family that Klaus had never stabbed. Besides, he couldn't. She was a hybrid, just like him. After breaking his curse, it turned out that their lost dreams of having a family together weren't all that lost. Hope appeared. And they both hoped she wouldn't be their only child. But first, they had to deal with their enemies.

Klaus knew he would do anything to protect his girls. And in moments like this—when Y/N smiled softly at him, holding their sleeping daughter in her arms—he knew that his efforts were damn well worth the hard work and sleepless nights.

His wife might just not be so irresistibly, wonderfully beautiful at every fucking moment of the day. It would have saved him a lot of nerves and fits of jealousy every time someone flirted with his goddess.

"Tough day?" Y/n asked, placing her hand on his cheek. Klaus didn't even notice when she approached him.

"It's better since I've seen you, love." he murmured, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to his chest to bury his nose in her delightfully fragrant hair.

Klaus adored every inch of her.

I know, I know, I know for sure Everybody want to steal my girl Everybody want to take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one cause she belongs to me

On days like this, Klaus was more murderous than usual.

Y/N knew full well that after agreeing to Tristan's polite request for a dance, Klaus was going to explode tonight. Not that she wanted to dance with the brother of a bitch who wanted to take her husband. Tristan's compliments to her, or even the subtle hints of his attraction to her, weren't pleasant to her either.

That was the plan: she was to distract Tristan while Klaus and Freya searched their house. The only thing Elijah didn't take into account was Klaus' enormous tendency to get jealous every time he touched her or received a compliment from another man.

Y/N could have sworn she saw Kol in the crowd eating a pack of popcorn, waiting for things to happen.

So she wasn't surprised when Klaus appeared at one point, snatching her from Tristan's arms with a warning growl. Or that he later marked her neck carefully and every inch of her body that had been contaminated by another man's hands.

Y/N was HIS and no one could ever change that. Not when he was around.

Elijah then burst into your room, being very annoyed at his brother's behavior. But honestly? He should have known better than to hope Klaus wouldn't give in to his jealousy. Tristan was lucky he didn't rip his hands off on the spot. On that day, the second of their first-turned vampires handed down a death sentence. Klaus wouldn't let anyone steal his wife.

Everybody want to steal my girl Everybody want to take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one cause she belongs to me

The cup of bitterness overflowed in Klaus when Lucien approached you on your annual "wedding anniversary" date. Yes, Klaus dared to show enough of his sentimental and tender side to declare this day a national holiday. No murders and no bodies on this day - that's what he promised you thousands of years ago.

But when he brought your order to the table and saw Lucien shamelessly flirting with you in front of him, inviting you for a drink at his suite, he seriously considered breaking that oath.

Unfortunately, he couldn't do that. He would rather avoid your wrath.

So instead, he walked over to your table with a sly, confident smirk, put the food on the table, and, grabbing your chin, pulled you close to kiss you passionately in front of the vampire.

He was marking his territory.

You smiled as Niklaus ignored Lucien's awkward grunt, only kissing you fiercely. He only let you go when he was sure your lips were swollen enough from his kiss. He smirked at your slightly disheveled state.

"Were you very bored without me, love?" he asked, playing with your hair.

"I kept her company, Klaus." the hybrid winced at Lucien's voice. He mustered up all the rest of his patience and turned his head, acknowledging the vampire's presence.

"Oh really? I didn't notice you, Lucien. You can go now." he brushed him off, turning back to you. Disgust in his gaze gave way to pure adoration. You were always amazed at how quickly you could change his mood with just your presence.

"Nik, sweetheart, it's very inappropriate to talk like that to our oldest friends, isn't it? Lucien, darling, we'll continue our conversation someday. You have to forgive me, but I promised my grumpy husband that I would focus all my attention on him today." you excused the two of you with a cute smile. Lucien just nodded, blushing.

You grabbed Klaus' arm and pulled him out of the bar before he lunged at the vampire.

"Niklaus, my heart and soul, you know I'm only yours, right?" you asked, kissing his cheek to stifle the surge of his jealousy.

"Yes. Which doesn't mean that this creature knows it too. And I'm not grumpy." he grunted, the furrow of irritation on his forehead deepening as he remembered Lucien's sweet words to you. He wanted to vomit as soon as you answered him in an equally nice and polite tone. "Every enemy of mine has a crush on you anyway; even my father doesn't feel disgusted and murderous toward you."

"Yes? You should have seen Aurora's face when she passed us a few minutes ago. She must have sent Lucien here to spoil our evening."

"Wait a minute, love... is that why you've drawn me to this very nice, unexpected, passionate, mind-blowing kiss in the middle of the street?" he asked with an incredulous smirk, watching with satisfaction as a treacherous blush crept onto your cheeks.

"What am I supposed to say? You're as territorial in this relationship as I am. Besides, we don't want to give our enemies the false impression that we see anything but each other, do we?"

"It's good to know you get jealous of me from time to time too, love."

"Time to time? Please, have you seen yourself in the mirror? I'm still at war with all these horny women who want to steal you from me. Such cheekbones, wonderful eyes, and an English accent are the dreams of many."

"Maybe, but I'm probably the one who chases away the most suitors out of the two of us. You have no idea how many people have had a crush on you over the centuries."

Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na Oh yeah Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na Alright Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na She belongs to me

There was going to be a celebration of the summer solstice in their village. Young Klaus was just waiting for you to sneak out with him after the ceremonial rites for your own celebration.

You've been courting each other for over three years now, and today Klaus was finally going to pluck up the courage (with the help of Elijah and Rebekah and Kol's teasing) to propose to you. The ring was safely in his pocket, and the sword was well hidden where the two of you were supposed to spend a romantic evening.

Everything was planned and ready. Nothing could go wrong today. He anticipated and ready for every circumstance, and his mother (the only one of your parents who knew about this secret relationship) promised him to keep his father away from your tryst's place.

But it never occurred to him that another man would try to steal you away from him.

Thor Ragnarsson, the strongest and most powerful young warrior from their village, has been dancing with you since the beginning of the night. And it didn't seem like he was going to let you go that easily, and after the rumors he heard from Kol, Klaus found out that the man wanted to court you.

Klaus had a panic attack. How could he—weak, one of the many sons of a lesser warrior—compete with such a man for your hand? Thor could give you much more than he can. He was stronger, richer, more famous, and handsomer... No. He couldn't think like that. Not when you were destined for each other by fate, stars, spirits, gods, or whatever was watching over you. He had to do something, and fast, before that son of a bitch charms you and you forget the boy who wrote you poems and painted your portraits on the bark of trees.

Klaus may not have been the strongest, but he had something that many of their villagers lacked. He had the cunning, brains, and skill of the best assassin. He will snatch you from this brute's clutches. But first he'll have to figure out how to do it (and take control of the deepening feelings of jealousy that clouded his good judgment.)

Thor only had two weaknesses. Beautiful women and strong drinks. He doubted that he would get drunk so easily; they don't know each other, so even if he offered him something stronger to drink (with an admixture of sleeping herbs), he would probably refuse and sense Klaus' ruse. So he had to resort to Plan B.

"Rebekah!" he shouted, trying to find his sister in the dancing crowd. He found her pretty quickly. He grabbed her hand and pulled her away from talking to some man (whom he and Elijah needed to check out in the future) and dragged the protesting blonde to a place where they could watch you and Thor. "I need your help. Do you see this skunk who is talking to my Y/N? Please distract him so I and Y/N can run away from there. You know I wanted to propose to her tonight, and that lesser man is ruining my whole plan!"

"Couldn't you have asked Tatia? She would have helped you because of Elijah."

"They got out of here before Kol could scare off another woman. Please, Rebekah. Won't you do it for your favorite brother?"

"She better say yes." she sighed in defeat, threading herself into the dancing crowd. After a moment, she hit Y/N's partner and winked at Klaus. He didn't waste a second. He ran over to you and, making sure everyone was too busy to notice you, threw you over his shoulder and took you from there.

"Nik! You can put me down now." she laughed at him as they entered the forest. Klaus reluctantly set her down, immediately drawing her into a passionate kiss, which she eagerly returned. "What took you so long?"

"I had to make sure the inconvenience wouldn't bother us when we sneaked out."

"That inconvenience has a name. Besides, Thor's just my friend. We both know very well that my heart belongs to only one man in this village."

"And who is it, love?"

"Well, he's quite tall; he has blonde hair and beautiful, mesmerizing blue eyes; and he's artistically talented. I've never seen more beautiful things than the ones he's made, and he's soooo jealous of me, but that's only because he loves me and he's pretty insecure about himself. Thinking about it like that, I guess I should make sure he knows how much I desire and love him so he doesn't come up with some weird ideas. What do you think?"

"I think this man was born under a lucky star to be worthy of a miracle like you."

"I forgot to add that he charms me with his words like no one else." you murmured, placing a tender kiss on his lips, which accelerated the rhythm of your already madly beating hearts. He pushed you into a tree, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you close, not wanting the world to let this moment between you ever end. You pulled away from him, placing your hand gently on his cheek. You smiled, looking at him with love in your eyes as he turned his head to kiss your hand. "I dare not agree with you. I'm the lucky one to have you, Niklaus. And believe me, nothing on this earth can change the way I love you. Nothing is even close enough to steal me from your safe, loving arms."

"So what do you say when..." he knelt down in front of you, trembling with nerves as he took a hand-made ring from his pocket. "Will I offer you my heart, soul, and body forever? You have my eternal devotion, loyalty, and love regardless of your answer, but know that it will be a real honor and a gift from the gods to call you my wife and to have a family with you. I want nothing more in this world than for you to be mine, Y/N. And I may not be the best choice; I am not very rich or strong, but I promise you that I will try to be the best husband for you."

"Oh, Niklaus, you stupid, insecure man... of course I will marry you!" you screamed with tears in your eyes, throwing yourself at him and knocking the two of you to the ground. You both laughed happily as you kissed each other's faces. Klaus gently slid the ring onto your finger.

One satisfying thought lingered in his mind as you both lounged in the field, embracing each other and watching the stars, talking about your future together.

She belongs to me.

Kisses like cream, her walk is so mean And every jaw drops when she's in those jeans, alright, alright? I don't exist if I don't have her The sun doesn't shine, the world doesn't turn, alright, alright?

"Any party you forgot to invite me to?" Klaus flinched at your pretentious, cold tone of voice. He turned away from the table to explain why Lucien, Aurora, and Tristan were sitting at the table with him and his brothers but fell silent, trying to keep his jaw from dropping.

"You look breathtaking as always, darling. Tristan and I missed having a beautiful woman at this table." Klaus stared murderously at Lucien as he kissed your hand, ignoring Aurora's offended snort. He knew you did it on purpose.

This morning, when he asked you to take Hope to visit Aunt Hayley for the day, you were wearing a completely different outfit. Now you were wearing those annoyingly tight jeans that showed off your curves perfectly, and you knew he loved them. Paired with a plunging neckline blouse, diamond jewelry, and little makeup, you looked like a goddess. Aurora could hide in the septic tank with her elegant, short dress.

You smirked at Aurora, sitting down between Lucien and Tristan, across from your husband. And that, too, was a deliberate ploy. You were out of reach of his hands to tease him with your beauty even more, regaling those idiots by your side with your heavenly presence. Klaus will make sure you pay for your little feat tonight.

He shot you a warning look as he noticed Lucien inching slightly closer to you, but you ignored him completely, smiling at some comment from the younger vampire.

Oh, yes, you will definitely be punished.

"Something wrong, sweetheart?" you asked him, knowing full well where his thoughts wandered.

"No. You're messing up the world order by fawning over this scoundrel instead of sitting next to me."

"Perfectly fine, love. Just admiring your beauty tonight."

"Only mine?" you asked, casually swirling her glass of wine and glancing meaningfully at Aurora, who tensed slightly under your gaze. You smiled meanly, ignoring Elijah's staring at you with irritation.

After failing to get anything meaningful out of Lucien (Klaus wouldn't let you get close enough to use his tricks), Elijah figured Aurora's weakness for Klaus could be exploited. But this time he didn't anticipate that you'd pick up on your husband's jealous behavior.

And you were much worse than the mighty hybrid.

"You know you're the only one I belong to, love." Klaus finally answered, shocking the younger vampires. They had never witnessed the world's deadliest vampire softly professing his love and devotion to you. You smiled sweetly at him, offering him your hand, which he kissed without hesitation. You shot a malicious, defiant look at Aurora.

They thought he had you wrapped around his finger, but it turns out to be quite the opposite...

Everybody want to steal my girl Everybody want to take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one cause she belongs to me

"Cheer up, she's just talking to him and not even of her own free will, Nik." you heard Kol calming down your husband when you tried to get information from Lucien.

For some reason, a vampire who has been impersonating your husband over the years has fallen for your extraordinary beauty and become infatuated with you.

Elijah decided to try again and use this to your advantage, much to Klaus' displeasure and fury. This time, Elijah put his other younger brother on guard. Honestly, it was fun to watch Kol occasionally hold Klaus by his henley to keep him from running towards you.

But of the two evils, Kol preferred to fight Klaus' jealousy over yours. You have proven more than once that you are a more dangerous opponent than his already bloodthirsty brother.

"Are you alright, darling?" Lucien pulled you out of your thoughts as he looked at you with concern.

"Yeah, I'm just a little tired. Hope's been getting on my nerves lately. She's so little, and she already has her dad's temper."

"A beautiful and caring woman like you deserves one night off." he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and placing a flower there in the process. You had to admit that it was a very sweet gesture. You blushed involuntarily, smiling shyly at the vampire. "Will you do me the honor?" he asked, extending his hand towards you. You really didn't want to flirt with him, but Elijah didn't give you much of a way out. You hoped Klaus knew that. But from the burning look you could feel in the back of your head as Lucien led you to the dance floor, you knew you were bound to have a fit of jealousy at home.

You just hoped no one would die until you were alone in the same room with your husband to ease his jealousy.

You glanced out of the corner of your eye at Kol and Klaus' hideout. You almost burst out laughing as you saw the two brothers jostling with each other as Kol was trying hard to hold Klaus by his henley.

"Bloody hell, calm down before I put a dog muzzle around your neck!" Kol hissed at him, deftly dodging Klaus' fangs as he tried to inject him with his werewolf venom.

Fortunately, Freya came and took control of them, thanks to which the rest of the night went without incident (except that Klaus barged in at the end of the party and, together with Kol, pretending to be drunk, laughed at their ball. The divas, as always, had to show up.)

You thought everything would be fine, but on the way back, Nik didn't say a word to you, only holding your hand in an iron grip as he put up with Kol's story about what a "jealous and rabid dog" he had been throughout the whole ball.

The son of a bitch only made him angrier and escaping to Davina at the first possible opportunity after you were parked under abattoir.

The rest of the siblings got out of the car quickly, leaving you and Klaus alone. You had to defuse the ticking time bomb that was your husband before it was too late, and also on your own.

"Nik..." you began in a sweet tone, but the man didn't even look up from your joined hands as he played with your wedding ring on your finger. "Nik, listen…"

"Do you regret your decision?"he blurted out, not letting you finish your sentence.

"What?" you asked, shocked about his unexpected, serious question.

You turned to him so you could get a better look at him. He was staring at your hands nervously. You could feel his grip tightening with every second of the tense silence between you two.

"Do you regret marrying me?" he asked in a trembling, rueful voice.

"Oh, Niklaus... my best friend, my king, my soulmate. How could I ever regret marrying my first, true, epic love?" you took his cheeks in your hands, making him look you in the eyes. "I love you. All of you. In your good and bad days, and nothing can change that. None knows me as well as you do. Nobody is even close to making me feel the way you have been making me feel for these last thousand years. You are my peace, my home, my security, my heart, and my everything. There could be a billion people asking for my hand, and I'll choose you again, and again, and again. You, our sweet Hope, and your siblings are the only ones I care about in this bloody world. I'm yours, Niklaus, and I'm not going anywhere in the following eternity."

"Good." he murmured, barely holding back tears, and pulled you into a needy kiss.

You grabbed his shoulders and straddled him, knowing full well that, after moments of uncertainty like this, he needed your tender, firm touch.

And with the uncles and aunts watching over your daughter, you were more than willing to take care of your insecure husband.

The next day you woke up alone in your bed, but in a room filled with various beautiful flowers… none of them were like the one Lucien had given you and Klaus had burned.

Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na Oh yeah Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na Alright Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na

You lay in bed together, sleeping off the long weeks of fighting the de Martels and Lucien. You finally killed them, returning to that blissful, peaceful state. AND! Hope has gained a new Uncle Finn and Grandpa Ansel. And it looked like Aunt Davina would join your happy, crazy, Mikaelosn's bunch, thanks to Kol. Klaus allowed them to look after the baby under the watchful eye of Rebekah and Freya.

It'll probably be years before he trusts them enough to leave them alone with Hope, but that's just how your husband was.

Always a protector, a warrior, repelling any evil that could reach his loved ones.

"Stop thinking. Go back to sleep." he murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

Lately, he has had a strange urge to stay very close to you. Maybe it's because spring is coming? You didn't want to ask him about his wolf side yet. He was fairly new to it and... shy. You were glad that now Ansel would be able to help him understand his other half.

"I thought we established a long time ago that I disobey your orders." you started to comb his hair, smiling as you heard him purr softly. He deserved to rest after bravely defending your family. You didn't know how much time you had left until another bomb exploded in your face.

"You could at least pretend to be a little obedient to your husband." he huffed, his eyes still closed.

"Me? Obedient? I thought you knew what you were taking, Mikaelson. Now, it's too late for any returns." you snorted, amused. Klaus graciously opened one eye, staring at you adoringly.

"I did. You're mine forever." he replied seriously, making your cheeks flush furiously and your heart speed up.

"Good." you whispered, placing a tender, short kiss on his lips.

"Good." he replied, cupping your cheeks and kissing you "properly" stealing your breath away. You enjoyed a moment to yourselves, touching each other tenderly, grounding in the familiar feeling of another's lips.

You two needed it after weeks of jealousy and uncertainty on both sides. Reminders that nothing and no one can take each other away. You belonged to him as much as he belonged to you. Soul and body.

You still were kissing as Klaus slid his hand down your neck, breasts, and belly and started to lift your shirt, making you shiver every time your bare skin made brief contact with his fingertips.

Suddenly, Hope's cry came from downstairs, effectively breaking the moment between the two of you. Klaus groaned, resting his forehead against yours.

"Your daughter is calling us."

"And since when is she just my daughter?"

"Since she's been demanding our attention purely because of her current mood. You spoiled her, Nik, and she's not even 4."

"I know another woman I've spoiled, and she's not complaining about it at all. Maybe that's not a bad thing."

"Just bring her here. I need her too." you backed out, knowing full well you couldn't win this fight. Thousands of dresses, jewelry, and your portraits painted by Klaus spoke clearly against you. Hope may have been spoiled by her dad, but over the past thousand years (and probably many more to come), your husband has made sure you get everything you want. Even a fucking star in the sky.

"As you wish, love." he murmured, kissing your forehead before going to fetch your daughter.

She knows, she knows that I never let her down before She know, she knows that I'm never gonna let take another take her love from me

Klaus couldn't let his guard down. You just had to attract everyone with your beauty. Even the Salvatore brothers. He wasn't worried about Damon. He was too smitten with Elena to even think about making a move to get your affection. But Stefan… the golden, Salvatore hero—who had some dark points in common with him but was definitely a better choice than him. Bloody hell, he would want him too, if he had to choose between himself and him. So he has to work really hard to prove to you that he may be better than Stefan.

It didn't help that the younger vampire was stealing you in front of him and dancing with you most of the time at his mother's ball.

Not also the fact that you were willing to let him lead you after Klaus argued with you about Esther's intentions. You sensed something wrong with her aura, but Klaus believed (or wanted to believe) that his mother meant well. That, like him, she wanted to reunite the family.

You guys argued pretty hard about it. And now you were dancing in the arms of his enemy, honoring him with your beauty, smile and attention.

The worst part of it all was that you didn't send him a single malicious smirk. You didn't tease him like you usually did after your fights. You didn't even notice him as he watched you doggedly, tipping another glass of champagne. His name probably never crossed your mind this evening.

He played with the wedding ring on his finger, watching carefully as Salavtore flirted with you in front of him. He promised himself that this time he wouldn't give in to his jealousy. He won't play by the rules of your game, and he won't play the jealous husband. You will come to him yourself and apologize to him.

At least that was the plan until he saw you take your wedding ring off.

This was too fucking much for him.

He set his glass down on the table and with a quick, slightly unsteady step, walked over to the two of you and twisted Stefan's arm, the exact one he had dared to touch your bare shoulder.

Salvatore groaned, drawing the attention of those around you. But you stood firm as you watched your husband break at least two of his bones. He released Stefan in disgust and grabbed your hand, dragging you through the crowd of onlookers to his studio - the only place where no one would dare disturb you.

"What the hell was that?!" he shouted, slamming the door behind the two of you in anger.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, sweetheart."

"For your own good, don't make me more mad than I already am, love."

"And you, for your own good, remember that I AM NOT the meek wife you can order around! I'm the hybrid, like you, an original. You have no power over me, wolfie, no one has."

"Are you sure, love?" he growled throatily, taking a big step towards her. You backed up until you hit the wall behind you. Klaus walked over to you, your chests rubbing against each other with every breath you took.

He suddenly kissed you aggressively, taking out all his anger and insecurity on you as he bit into your enticing mouth and began sucking the slowly oozing blood. He groaned at the sweet, addictive taste on his tongue.

With one hand, he untangles your complicated hairstyle and wraps your hair around his hand, tilting your head back. While he was busy fucking your neck with kisses, you took advantage of his distraction, digging your nails into his arms, taking revenge for biting your lip. He hissed, annoyed at your bratty attitude, and pressed his lips to yours again. Once he had distracted you, he gave away two of your dresses and slapped you hard on the ass. You moaned into the kiss, rubbing against him, making him even crazier with desire. He had to control himself before you went too far for him to carry out his plan.

"Such a willing… so needy whore for me." you moaned as he brushed against your core, still teasing you, his fangs on your neck as he bit your skin gently. "What a pity I only fuck with my wife." he growled, pushing away from you and heading towards the exit.

"Niklaus!" you gasped in anger as his body heat left you.

"Put your wedding ring back on, and maybe I will help you with your... little problem." he threw over his shoulder, ignoring your shouts of protest and threats.

He didn't even get his hand on the doorknob when you pinned him to the door, kissing him passionately. He grinned, throwing you onto the piano in the corner as he caught a glimpse of the familiar black gold on your finger out of the corner of his eye. Where the fuck should always be. He leaned over you, grabbing your chin hard to make you look into his eyes. Need and lust shone in your irises, making him harder than ever.

"You're mine. I am the only bloody man who'll ever hear your sweet moaning in pleasure like a whore. Nobody can take you away from me. Don't ever dare to think you can have any lover but me."

"Then stop talking and prove it."

"With a fucking pleasure, love." he growled, kissing you hungrily as he tore your dress in half.

Everybody want to steal my girl Everybody want to take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one cause she belongs to me

Hayley and Jackson's son stayed over at Hope's, and Klaus was more terrified than when he had fought his father. His little girl was playing with some kid. What if he started flirting with her? He had read somewhere that kids that age often find "boyfriends and girlfriends" and call every other person they are friends with that. He wasn't ready to hear from his little daughter that she had a boyfriend.

So ever since Hayley brought him in, he'd been giving the boy a stern look, much to his wife's annoyance. Klaus' reluctance gradually began to turn into indifference when, after hours of time Hope spent with her friend, he did not notice anything suspicious. They'd lasted all day, and there was no indication that the kid would have to be wiped off the face of the earth (or at least taken back to his parents immediately).

But then came breakfast. And Klaus noticed that this kid was staring at you in adoration. And he didn't like it at all.

He was not at all prepared for the insult, the insult directed at him, which the child said after you helped him cut his food.

"You are beautiful and kind as an angel. When I grow up, I will be your husband." Klaus spat out his cup of tea, choking as you tried not to burst out laughing at the 6-year-old's comment and Nik' reaction.

"Honey... but I already have a husband. He'll be very sad if I find another." Hayley called her son, who said goodbye to you and ran to hug Hope before mom took him away. You looked at your stunned husband with amusement. "Well… at least you don't have to worry about him flirting with Hope."

"This kid won't be stepping over the threshold of this house again." he growled, leaving the room to make sure the little one was out for good.

"Niklaus! It is just a child!" you shouted after him, laughing at his jealousy as you ran to make sure he didn't intimidate the poor boy.

Everybody want to steal my girl Everybody want to take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one cause she belongs to me

It's been quite a few years since Klaus' last fit of jealousy. After the (victory) fight against Inadu, you were finally able to enjoy a moment of normality.

You had lunch at some diner in Mystic Falls; you visited Hope at her school, and somehow it happened that a group of her colleagues accosted her. She introduced you, you chatted with them for a while, and everything was supposed to be a normal dinner with your daughter and her friends, until one of them... crossed the line.

"Now we know from whom Hope inherited such loveliness. You are very beautiful, Mrs. Mikaelson."

You quickly grabbed Klaus' hand across the table, politely thanking the boy. Hope, seeing what was going on, escorted her friends away and left you alone for a moment.

"Niklaus, he's just a teenager."

"Uhm." he muttered absently, staring with daggers at the departing boy.

"He could be our son, for God's sake!"

"Most people on this planet could be our children, but that doesn't stop them from flirting with my wife." you rolled your eyes, smiling with amusement as he growled at the boy staring at you when Hope was explaining something to him. The poor guy looked away in panic and ran away as fast as he could.

You were going to scold your husband for scaring your daughter's friends, but you decided to leave it to Hope. The smart girl knew how to talk to her father better than you. Maybe she'd finally knock those stupid fits of jealousy out of his head, with which you've been struggling for 1,000 years.

"Your pregnant wife, I would like to point out. And we're not going anywhere. Certainly not with a teenager." you said, grabbing his chin and pulling him to you so you could kiss him. Klaus grunted, pleased with the feeling of your lips on his, and automatically placed his hand on your yet-unseen belly, smirking as he felt the pulse of the youngest member of the Mikaelson family growing inside you.

"I'm back!" Hope screamed, stepping behind you with a nervous smile. You raised an eyebrow, while looking at your daughter. Oh, no. You knew that look in her eyes. Klaus had the same gaze as he was about to do... something in Mikaelson's style. "Taking the opportunity... I mean, now that you're reassuring dad. Mom, Dad, I have a boyfriend. His name is Landon, and he's coming to the family dinner on Friday for all of you to meet him. So, bye! I'm going back to school. I love you both!" she said, kissing you both on the cheeks and leaving you both stunned. You burst out laughing at Klaus' shocked, defeated expression.

"Nik? Are you okay?" you asked, still laughing. Your husband's patience really was tested today.

"I told you we should stay in bed today. I knew something bad was about to happen." he growled, giving you a menacing look as you still couldn't stop laughing. You kissed the corner of his lips, a huge smirk still on your face. Klaus rolled his eyes but couldn't hold back his smirk any longer while he was looking at you. The power you hold over him... one your smile was easily changing his mood. Even in situations like this.

"Don't be such dramatic. It's probably better that Hope is dating teens than me, right?"

"Stop it, love." he growled, putting the money on the table. He grabbed your hand and led you out of the bar.

"Stop what?" you asked, pretending to be innocent as you strolled towards your car.

"Teasing me."

"But it's my favorite part of the day… and we all know you enjoy every ounce of my undivided attention." you replied, stopping both of you in front of the car and putting your hands on his shoulders. You stared at him with a mischievous smirk, playing with his hair. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer as he leaned against your car.

"You know you're ruining my carefully crafted reputation as the greatest evil in the world?"

"I'm not too concerned about this… how about you?"

His only response was a light chuckle before he kissed you with all his love for you. You smiled, cupping his cheeks and pulling him as close to you as possible. You both loved those moments of peace between the two of you. No witches, vampires, or werewolves wanting your death. Just the two of you in each other's arms, too busy with each other to care about anything else.

"Let's go home, love. Before that bunch of Salvatores come down here with white oak stakes." he hummed tenderly, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

He could stare at your beautiful face for hours. Even if it meant dealing with the people who wanted to steal his goddess first. It was worth every effort to hold you in his arms again.

"I don't think we're on the top criminals list anymore. Stefan was recently joking that you had retired. And before you get a seizure in the middle of town, let me say that I didn't talk to him. Hope is friends with Delena's daughter. She might have overheard something."

"The gods must have punished me in some way for my many antics, so they sent me a wife to teach my daughter how to get on my nerves without even trying."

"Oh sweetheart. I love you too." you laughed as you both got into the car to go home.

Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na Oh yeah Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na Alright Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na She belongs to me

You were sitting in a rocking chair, holding your newborn son in your arms. The baby finally fell asleep peacefully, and you were afraid to make any move after hours of putting him to sleep. It looks like you'll have to sleep in this chair tonight.

"Rescue you, love?" Klaus' soft whisper tore your gaze from Henric Nikolas Mikaelson.

"I'd love to, but I'm afraid he'll wake up the moment he leaves my arms." Klaus slowly walked over to you, kneeling in front of you and gazing tenderly at the baby you held. "I guess you're going to have to come to terms with the fact that you're going to have to share me with someone else." the man rolled his eyes at the comment about his jealousy. He shifted his gaze to you and gently grabbed your hand, being careful not to let any sudden movement wake his son.

"I'll live with it as long as our kids are the only ones taking you from me."

"You are a very gracious, all-powerful hybrid." he chuckled, making a tired but genuine smile appear on your face. "Save yourself while you still can. I don't think I'm going back to bed tonight." you murmured, looking at the little usurper in your arms.

"Nonsense, you are going with me.." he lifted you from your chair with your soft, startled squeal and held you in his arms, careful not to wake your son. He carried you to the bed, making sure you were comfortable. He lay on his side, propping his head up with his hand, and stared at the two of you, spellbound. "You can sleep. I'll keep an eye on you two."

"Remember that your siblings and dad are coming tomorrow. Kol and Davina pick up Hope. And please, for God's sake, don't argue with Kol again about him being Henric's godfather, because we both know you don't want anyone else to take his place."

"Well, we always have Marcel and, God forbid, Finn. Besides, what kind of big brother would I be if I didn't torment him every chance I got?" you rolled your eyes, pressing your son to your chest, and used your free hand to grab your husband's hand.

"I just hope you didn't teach our daughter that."

"I'd be surprised if she didn't pick up on our habits herself." he murmured, kissing your hand and watching you fall into a peaceful sleep while holding your son and his hand. Your rings shone in the moonlight on your joined hands.

Yes... you were definitely belongs only to him.

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happilyhertale · 6 months

Text

A royal encounter - Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader x Oberyn Martell

Summary: Daemon had a great idea to bring a breath of fresh air into your marriage. But his plans were thwarted.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader x Oberyn Martell

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; oral f receiving, fingering (f in v and f in a), p in v sex, p in a sex

Author’s note: To celebrate the one year anniversary of my very first posted story, I've decided to finally post the Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader x Oberyn Martell story.... I hope you like it! And… Thanks for reading my stories for a year! 🖤 I am very happy that you still want to read my stories!

English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 3.3 k

Other stories of mine

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You cling to the railing with your hands. Daemon's hands dig into your hips almost unpleasantly, the marks of his fingernails will be visible for a long time. His thrusts slowly subside and his breath comes heavily. A warm breeze envelops you, here on the balcony of your old chambers. You have sought a little excitement, escaping the boring ball that has lured many lords and ladies to King's Landing. That's how Daemon came to practically push you into your old chambers for a bit of excitement.

You are both still breathing heavily as Daemon slowly pulls out of you. His soft laugh rings out as he gently kisses your nose.

But then this gentle moment is interrupted as someone applauds you and a clap is heard.

For a second Daemon's gaze meets yours before he looks over his shoulder and sees Prince Oberyn Martell standing in the middle of the chambers. He grins, "Perhaps I should have tried harder to seduce a Targaryen princess after all," Prince Oberyn says cheekily. In one movement Daemon pulls his trousers completely up and spins around, his eyes narrowing.

"Oh, is the Prince of Dorne trying to make a pass at my wife?" hisses Daemon.

A gasp escapes you and you try to hide your naked body behind Daemon's. Your gaze wanders, searching for your dress, which Daemon had torn off you just moments before.

As Prince Oberyn chuckles, "No... But now that I've seen how much fun you've had, I wish I'd had it too," he says to him. Daemon's gaze falls slightly over his shoulder, seeing you trying to cover your body. He sees you reaching for your dress, which is lying on the floor.

He looks back at Oberyn and his mood suddenly seems more relaxed. He starts to button up his shirt, "I think we were just looking for a little excitement here," Daemon replies.

"But..," Daemon adds suddenly, "if you want to join us, I could certainly be persuaded."

You are pulling up your dress and frowning when you hear his words, "Daemon? Did you just invite Prince Oberyn to a threesome?" you ask him a little shocked.

Daemon hears your words, but before he can say anything back, Oberyn intervenes.

"A threesome?" asks Prince Oberyn with a grin, "I would have thought you were a jealous husband rather than an adventurous one...". Oberyn's words echo through the chambers and your eyes fall on Daemon again. You know he can be jealous, but this time something else is reflected in his eyes.

Daemon chuckles softly, "We could have a good time in these old chambers here," he says mischievously, "It might make everything a little more exciting." Daemon turns slightly, looking you straight in the eye, "What do you think? Is the Prince of Dorne a threat to our marriage?" he asks you gently. His thumb gently strokes your cheek.

You are not easily embarrassed, but this idea makes you blush. You bite your lip lightly, the pulsing between your legs reignited. Prince Oberyn was a handsome man. No less handsome than your husband, but in total contrast.

"No... he's not a threat. I only love you..." you say softly to Daemon.

Your gaze drifts to Prince Oberyn and his mischievous grin jumps out at you. He begins to unbutton his shirt and his lightly tanned chest is revealed. It is a stark contrast to your fair skin. Gently he brushes his shirt off his shoulders, revealing muscles that are rather small compared to Daemon's – he is defined but slender in stature. You step forward and stand next to Daemon.

But Daemon's gaze follows Oberyn's actions as he unbuttons his shirt, looking at his wife. He sees pure lust in Oberyn's eyes, the brown of his eyes barely discernible – his pupils dilated with lust.

Daemon notices how handsome Oberyn is and feels an excitement welling up inside him.

Oberyn's gaze falls on Daemon's face and notices Daemon trying to hide his excitement, but he sees his eyes fixed on the scene before him. A smile spreads across Oberyn's face. Oberyn walks towards you and slowly kneels on the ground in front of you.

You gasp briefly as his gaze goes up to you and he smiles at you. His hands reach for your dress and slowly begin to lift it.

The blush on your face continues to spread to your cleavage. Never has another man been about to touch you like this.

As Oberyn's voice brings you back to reality, "The blush is much more visible on your pale skin, Princess," he murmurs, "No need to be nervous, you'll enjoy it"

You bite your lip, even though you don't want to be nervous, you feel it flood through you.

You feel Daemon behind you, his hands on your shoulder. His thumbs glide gently over the crook of your neck. However unfamiliar this situation may be, Daemon's touch soothes you.

"Well?" asks Oberyn suddenly, "Do you want me to have her?"

Your eyes slide from Oberyn's to Daemon's purple eyes. Slightly peeking over your shoulder, your lips meet, "I want you both, Daemon..." you whisper against his lips.

Oberyn chuckles lightly as he lifts your dress further. You're not wearing any undergarments and as Oberyn pushes your dress up to your hips, your light pubic hair is revealed.

"Mmm, the silver hair of the Targaryens..." he murmurs, pressing his face into it. A smile crosses his face, the smile of an artist when he sees the masterpiece he has created.

You gasp as Oberyn presses his face into your pubic area. You exhale heavily, watching Oberyn enjoy the warmth of your private parts.

Daemon watches Oberyn and a slight, excited growl forms in his chest. Your previous words, "I want you both," also add to his arousal. Daemon's lips gently touch your neck as his hands begin to slide your dress down from your shoulders.

Prince Oberyn lets his tongue slide slowly through your womanhood. His fingers gently pull apart your folds so he can fully enjoy you.

You moan as you feel Oberyn's tongue find your bundle of nerves and gently circle it.

A "mmhmm" sounds from Oberyn as he pushes his face further into you. Your breath quickens as you feel Daemon lightly bite the soft skin of your neck and Oberyn circles his tongue faster. Your moans echo through the chambers.

When Oberyn suddenly lets go of your warm core and you whimper in disappointment. Your eyes fall on Oberyn, who looks up at you. His lips are glistening with your juice. Slowly he stands up and begins to open his trousers. Meanwhile Daemon lets your dress fall to the floor. His hands slide to your breasts, massaging them lightly. His thumbs and fingers grip your nipples, teasing them lightly. His lips continue to caress your neck as another moan leaves your lips.

You are now standing naked in front of them both. And your teeth don't want to release your lip. As Oberyn takes one of your hands and leads you away from Daemon. You take a step and slip out of your dress, which is lying at your feet. Slowly he leads you to the bed.

You climb onto the bed and Oberyn, who is naked himself, lies down beside you and begins to caress your body with his fingers. You see how Oberyn's hot length is already aroused and unlike Daemon's, a dark ring surrounds his size. You can't resist, you run your fingers through the hair. Oberyn grins at you and now he lightly bites his lip.

Your eyes fall on Daemon and you watch as his gaze is fixed on you. A shiver runs down your spine as you see his gaze follow Oberyn's fingers on your skin. Daemon begins to undress, his eyes never leaving you. First his shirt falls, revealing his muscular torso. The scars from all the battles won litter his pale skin. Your arousal rises immensely. As Daemon undresses from the waist down and his arousal immediately springs free, you moan. The way Daemon stands in front of you and Oberyn's fingers find their way between your thighs is too exciting.

Daemon's attention is on you, the love of his life, and the tanned man next to you, caressing you on the bed and sliding his fingers through your wetness. Daemon comes towards you with long strides, gently sliding himself onto the bed with you. His fingers find your hips, reach into your curves as he begins to play around your nipple with his tongue. You moan again as his teeth begin to nibble lightly.

Daemon's lips slowly glide up your neck. A game of kisses and light bites until he encloses your lips. You breath into his mouth as Oberyn slides his hand to your bottom and turns you to Daemon. You lie on your side, your hand glides over Daemon's chest to his neck while your tongues dance wildly around each other. Oberyn brushes your silver hair aside and begins to kiss your neck softly. His fingers slide down your thigh, until his hand reaches the curves of your bottom and grips firmly. You whimper into Daemon's mouth. Oberyn releases your butt cheek and lets his fingers slide between your thighs. You whimper again as he covers his finger with your wetness and slides it to your butt hole. He applies light pressure and your whimpering repeats itself.

His fingers are slick with your wetness, easing the way as they tease the sensitive spot. He wants to push you further, to see how far you're willing to go. Experimentally, he stroked his fingers against your hole.

Oberyn's breath hitches as your hips begin to move slightly. A soft sound comes from you and your bottom presses lightly against his finger, your slight gasp sending a wave of satisfaction through him. He pressed a little harder, his finger slowly sliding into your tight, forbidden entrance.

The feeling of you around his finger, it all fueled his desire, igniting a primal need within him. He let out a low grunt in response, his own pleasure intertwining with yours.

He could feel his own cock hardening almost painfully, aching for the intense pleasure that only you could provide at the moment. The sound of your whimpering, your vulnerability and need, only served to heighten his own desire to please you.

Daemon's fingers mirror Oberyn's movements as his fingers slide between your legs. His attention is on your clit at first until he slides them inside you. You hear him growl softly as he feels the walls of your cunt already clenching around his fingers.

Daemon looks at you with slightly parted lips, enjoying the sight of ecstasy on your face. "You always take my fingers so well inside of you," Daemon mumbles a little breathlessly, "just like my tongue... My cock"

You whimper again and your fingers grab his biceps.

Daemon growls again and his gaze falls on Oberyn, who grunts slightly as he slides his fingers into your butthole.

"The princess is so tight," Oberyn murmurs and Daemon feels a tingle inside him as he hears the words. You gasp and bite your lip lightly as Oberyn's fingers thrust deeper, his warm breath on your neck.

Daemon lets his lips meet yours again, both of you breathing heavily, his fingers thrusting faster into you, completely wet with your juices. He starts to insert another finger into you and you moan almost desperately. The sensation of your wetness coating his fingers only fueled his desire further, knowing that you are becoming more and more receptive to his touch. He elicits a long whine from you as he curls his digits against your sensitive walls.

You feel the fingers thrusting into you. But this time it's so much more than usual. Daemon's fingers keep rubbing over the rough part of your wet walls, making you whimper, while Oberyn's fingers keep stretching your tight hole, awakening the feeling inside you that you need to feel so much more.

You moan out loud and before you've fully realised it, you feel Daemon's fingers pull out of you and slide his hot length through your wet folds. You whimper slightly each time he grazes your sensitive pearl. You moan even louder as he presses lightly against your entrance and you whimper again at the thought of how perfectly he will fill you.

"I think the princess will be perfectly filled tonight," Oberyn whispers, followed by a slight chuckle, as if he can read your mind. His lips still pressed against your neck as his fingers continue to explore your depths.

Daemon thrusts hard into you and your walls give way to his size. Daemon grunts loudly as he's back in his warm, soft home. His large hand slides to the back of your thigh, but you are distracted by the penetrating thrusts. He grabs your thigh and guides your leg closer to his body, placing your knee on his hip so he can penetrate you deeper.

He thrusts forward again and again, conjuring up the sweetest whimpering noises from you.

When you suddenly feel Oberyn's fingers leave your tight hole, you almost feel an emptiness inside you that needs to be filled. But then you feel his cock sliding along between your thighs from behind. Again and again he rubs it through your wet folds, soaking it with your wetness, while Daemon continues to thrust into your cunt.

Oberyn's cock throbbed with desire while his lips are still pressed against your neck. His breathing becomes heavier and you feel the warmth on the soft skin of your neck as he positions himself at your tight entrance.

You're slightly distracted by Daemon's thrusts and grunts, but you feel Oberyn begin to press the tip of his cock against your butt hole. You cry out slightly, but it ends in a long moan.

With a deep, primal grunt, he presses the tip of his cock against the entrance, feeling the resistance and tightness that awaits him. The whimpers and moans escaping your lips only fuelled his desire, his own need becoming unbearable.

But your butthole quickly gives way. Still slightly stretched by Oberyn's fingers, it almost greedily envelops the tip of his cock. You hear Oberyn moaning in your ear, breathing heavily.

"Gods... Princess... I haven't even been all the way inside you yet and you already feel so divinely tight," Oberyn murmurs breathlessly – you can only whimper.

Oberyn follows Daemon's rhythm and every time Daemon pushes your pelvis backwards, Oberyn takes the opportunity. Your bottom is pushed towards Oberyn again and again and each time he thrusts a little harder to meet your movements.

You feel yourself getting restless and your hand suddenly reaches for Oberyn's bottom. Your hand grips his small, firm bottom and squeezes gently. Oberyn continues to thrust slowly but firmly and you are caught up in the feeling of wanting to feel him deeper, but the slight pain forces you to take it slowly. But your hand starts to push him closer to you as a mix of whimpers and moans leave you. Oberyn stretches you further and further and your eyes roll into the back of your head.

With one final, powerful thrust, Oberyn conquers your tight hole and moans loudly. You cry out briefly, but the pain quickly subsides and gives way to pure pleasure. You realise how completely filled you are. Daemon and Oberyn are now thrusting in unison and you are trapped in their grips – and you don't want it to end. You put your head back and Oberyn immediately turns his attention back to your neck. He bites in lightly as he thrusts into your tight hole.

"Gods... Gods... fuck..." leaves his lips again and again.

With a primal instinct, he grabs your hips and slides closer to you. His thrusts now go deeper. He savours your tightness and the pleasure he brings you. The sound of your soft cries and moans fill the air as Daemon and Oberyn thrust into you, driving them both even further into a state of primal lust.

Daemon's hand is still on your thigh, lifting it slightly as he thrusts into your cunt. Oberyn's fingers grip your hips tighter as his thrusts penetrate you from behind.

Daemon grunts to himself, feeling the unusual resistance on his cock every time Oberyn thrusts into you and it turns him on. He thrusts harder and feels your cunt literally pulsating. His hand slides from your thigh to your breast, gripping it tightly as his lips slam onto yours. A wild kiss, accompanied by whimpers and moans, unfolds between you.

Your foot slides to the back of his thigh, wanting to pull him closer, needing to feel him deeper.

Daemon breathes heavily and grunts as your kiss ends. His eyes are fixated on the sight of you taking Oberyn's cock up your ass as he continues to fuck your cunt. The combination of your actions, the raw lust emanating from you, elicits a primal moan from deep within him.

With each thrust, he feels the lust building inside him and the need for release becomes almost unbearable. But he wants to savour this moment, savour your pleasure, revel in the intoxicating connection you share. Daemon's hand lets go of your breast and slides to your leg again.

His grip is firm and so are his thrusts, which become more intense and violent. The sound of your moans and the beginning trembling of your thighs only fuel his desire and bring him even closer to the edge.

You feel that you are about to come. The sensation of being filled in both holes is almost too much and you feel the familiar pressure spreading through your abdomen.

"Yes... Come on my cock," Daemon grunts, " Show me how good it feels for you to be filled like this," he grunts as his cock starts to twitch dangerously as well. Oberyn starts grunting behind you. He can feel your whole abdomen literally start to clench. His hand slides from your hip to your warm core. You look down, breathing heavily, and see Daemon thrusting into you and Oberyn's fingers begin to rub your clit. You are a moaning mess. The pressure inside you becomes almost unbearable.

"Be an obedient wife... come while our cocks fill you," Oberyn grunts in your ear as his fingers rub faster.

You only whimper, followed by a loud moan.

"I'm going to fill you up, princess... My seed will fill this tight hole," Oberyn grunts further, thrusting deeper.

And then you come, your cunt clenches around Daemon's cock, milking him and driving him over the edge with you. He growls and grunts loudly, pumping his cum deep into your cunt with deep thrusts.

Oberyn follows shortly after you and dresses your dark walls in white. He bites the back of your neck and immerses himself in the sensation. The grips on your body are firm, the feeling wonderful.

You whimper softly as the grunting around you slowly dies down. There is a smell of sweat and sex in the air. Heavy breathing echoes off the walls. Your light whimpers come to a climax as the two of them slowly pull out of you. Exhausted, you let yourself sink against Daemon's chest while Oberyn lies on his back, breathing heavily. His hand rests on your bum, stroking it gently.

"Maybe I should visit King's Landing more often after all..." mumbles Oberyn as he looks up at the ceiling.

Your eyes are closed, but instead of a reply, you hear a slight chuckle from Daemon.

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Tag list:

@hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemonds-eyeball @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @valeskafics @sylasthegrim @dreamlandcreations @hopelesswritergall @wetbitchlibrary @arcielee @just-some-random-blogger @softyhwrt @bl4ckph0enix

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janaispunk · 1 month

Text

little lion

pairing: Oberyn Martell x OFC

word count: 394

tags/warnings: alcohol consumption, i think that’s it?

a/n: @catchallfangirl gave me the prompt “finally, something we can agree on”, oberyn and thirty minutes to write. this is the result :)

follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here!

dividers by @plum98 <3

She sips her wine, tuning out her father who is rambling on about uniting houses and how much good it would do for the people of the realm.

It’s not about the realm, let alone the people living in it. She knows it, he knows it, everybody in the room knows it. It’s about power. It’s about the iron throne and ensuring who will sit on it.

The man two tables over from hers catches her wandering gaze and raises his own cup in a quiet toast. As he drinks, he winks at her. She hates the blush creeping up on her cheeks, hates the fact that he can see it, even in the candlelight, if the smug look on his handsome features is any indication. She hates his dark eyes, the glinting of the golden chain around his neck, the way it accentuates the panes of his strong chest, his golden skin, visible through his robe.

She needs some air.

Quietly excusing herself, she rises to her feet and leaves the hall, climbing stairs until she reaches one of the higher floors where the thick stony walls open into big windows, overlooking the city below them.

Lights are twinkling in the darkness of the night, until the city gives way to the ocean, moonlight reflecting off of its surface.

She feels his presence before she hears his quiet steps behind her.

“Prince Oberyn.”

“Hello, little lion.”

Goosebumps form on her neck. He’s closer than she anticipated, she can almost feel his breath on her skin. His voice is low, gravely behind her, his accent wrapping around the pet name. The stupid pet name that he won’t stop using and that sounds way too good from his lips.

“I told you not to call me that.”

He tuts gently, twirling one of the long blonde curls of her hair between his fingers, before giving it a light tug.

“Why did you leave?”

“I was bored.”

It might not be the whole truth, but it’s not necessarily a lie, either. He chuckles, still playing with her hair.

“Finally, something we can agree on.”

She turns her head towards him, eyes searching his. He’s much too close. He gently trails one finger over her cheekbone.

“We shall leave the talking to your father and my brother. Let me walk you to your chambers, little lion.”

thank you for reading! if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask. interaction is what keeps writers going <3

#janas fics #oberyn martell #prince oberyn #oberyn martell drabble #game of thrones #oberyn martell fanfiction #oberyn martell x ofc #oberyn martell x oc #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories

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slavicdelight · 4 months

Text

The Last Embrace

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Lannister! OC

Summary: Lorelle, Tywin Lannister's youngest daughter, forms an unexpected alliance with Oberyn Martell after defeating him in a duel. Their love blossoms, but tragedy strikes when jealousy leads to everything falling apart.

Warnings: death, cursing, angst

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In the heart of the Westerlands, Tywin Lannister welcomed his youngest daughter into the world, a fierce and spirited girl named Lorelle. From the beginning, her fiery nature clashed with the traditional expectations of a lady born into such a prestigious family.

As Lorelle grew, her independent spirit grew with her, driving her further away from learning of noble etiquette. She abandoned needlework for the training yard, where she observed the art of swordsmanship. Tywin, torn between pride and concern, could only watch as her interest differed from other young noble ladies. Word of Lorelle's exceptional skill with sword spread through the Seven Kingdoms, reaching the ears of Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper of Dorne. Although he despised the Lannisters for what happened to his beloved sister Elia, he was curious if the rumours were true.

The first encounter between the two was marked by a clash of swords, or in this case - a spear and a sword. Each duel became a battleground for dominance, a fierce dance where neither was willing to yield.Oberyn's disdain for the Westerlands and its houses fueled the fire of their rivalry. In his eyes Lorelle was not just an opponent but a symbol of everything he despised about the realm.

Despite their hatered for each other, they decided to combine forces to travel together through Essos.The tension between them kept both nobles balanced on the egde.Yet, amidst the clashes, moments of understanding and mutual respect began to emerge.It wasn't until a decisive duel where Lorelle emerged triumphant that Oberyn's disdain began to shift. As he lay defeated, he finally acknowledge her skill. The dislike eventually evolved into a strange alliance, a bond forged on the edge of blades and the heat of their conflicting personalities.

During their tumultuous journey, Lorelle and Oberyn faced numerous challenges, each encounter adding layers to their complex relationship.One day, as they were riding through Pentos, a group of men attacked them. They were strong and quick. It was obvious that they’ve been trained to steal and kill. Thankfully, Oberyn's quick thinking and combat finesse saved Lorelle from an ambush, blurring the lines between adversary and ally. The tension that once defined their interactions slowly transformed into something more.

When Oberyn knelt before her, proposing a marriage with sincerity in his eyes, the tension reached its zenith. Tywin, recognizing the potential for an alliance, reluctantly agreed to their union. Lorelle became the Princess of Dorne, thrust into a political landscape that mirrored the complexities of her relationship with Oberyn.Yet, tragedy struck their already fragile union.

Ellaria Sand, fueled by jealousy and resentment, plotted against Lorelle. In a venomous act of betrayal, she poisoned the Princess of Dorne. As Lorelle's life slipped away, Oberyn's grief transformed into a burning desire for revenge, reigniting the tension between them in a different, more profound way. In a fit of righteous fury, Oberyn confronted Ellaria. The clash was brutal, mirroring the intensity of his battles with Lorelle.

In the end, justice was served, but the cost was high. Oberyn stood still after delivering avenging the woman he loved, a shattered man, his heart torn between the love he discovered and the unresolved tension that lingered between him and the memory of Lorelle.

In the aftermath, the halls of Sunspear echoed with a haunting silence. Oberyn, having avenged Lorelle, found himself with conflicting emotions. The memory of their fierce clashes lingered, intertwined with the love he discovered and the unresolved tension that defined their relationship.

As Princess of Dorne, Lorelle's absence left a void in the court. The alliances formed through her marriage hung in delicate balance. Oberyn, once fueled by a desire for revenge, now faced the aftermath of his actions. The people of Dorne witnessed a Red Viper who had lost his venom, a man torn between the love he found and the ghosts of his tumultuous past. The court of Sunspear whispered of Lorelle's legacy – a fiery princess who defied conventions, a skilled swordswoman who left a mark on the pages of history. Yet, the tragedy that befell her cast a shadow over the realm, a stark reminder of the fragility of alliances and the cost of vengeance.

Oberyn, haunted by the memories of Lorelle, retreated into solitude. The tension that once fueled their clashes now manifested as an internal struggle within him. The flames of revenge had consumed him, and in their wake, he was left with the ashes of regret.In the quiet corridors of Sunspear, Oberyn's gaze lingered on the places where he and Lorelle had faced both adversaries and each other. The sword that once clashed with hers now rested, a silent witness to the battles fought and the love lost.As the years passed, Dorne found itself in a delicate dance of politics and intrigue.

The memory of Lorelle became both a symbol of defiance and a cautionary tale. Oberyn, a once vibrant force, moved through the shadows of the court, a man forever marked by the flames that burned between him and the Princess of Dorne. And so, the tale of Lorelle and Oberyn became a legend – a story of love, rivalry, and the high cost of vengeance that echoed through the corridors of Sunspear, leaving behind a legacy as enduring as the ancient stones of the castle.

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A/N: This is a shorter story, but I hope you'll enjoy it just like the other ones.

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wardenparker · 1 year

Text

The Viper’s Bride - ch 1

Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst

The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 9.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol* A slap! Mentions of menstruation, fleeting mention of a suicidal thought, threats of violence, bathing, so much foreplay, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, fingering (anal), MM coupling, MMF threesome, anal sex, oral sex (f giving and receiving), FF coupling, technically this is an orgy. Summary: Upon receiving news of your arranged betrothal, both you and Prince Oberyn of Dorne make your ways to the Red Keep for King Joffrey’s impending nuptials. However, his arrival to the city is significantly more playful than yours. Notes: Welcome to soulmate story number seven! This summer we are getting hot and heavy in Westeros with everybody’s favourite promiscuous prince. Buckle up, my darlings, because this one gets spicy right off the bat 👑💖

Oberyn frowns slightly as the oil slicked hands of the servant press into the arches and joints of Doran’s feet, making his older brother hiss in pain. It must be a harsh day for him, his wheeled chair a near constant as it is now too painful for him to walk even short distances. A far cry from the hale and hearty brother he had grown up with as the youngest of the Martell princes. He knows the oil is warmed, the scent of eucalyptus and mint filling the air as it is worked into the skin, hopefully providing some relief. “I can come back, brother. Let you rest.”

“This is important.” Doran insists, not dismissing either man from his presence. His own discomfort is a stark reminder of the sacrifices that must be made for the throne of Dorne. “You know the Baratheon boy is to marry.” The fact that King Joffrey’s mother is a Lannister makes him an unsavory topic between the Martell brothers, even as Marcella Baratheon plays in the water gardens a mere thirty yards away.

Stiffening instantaneously for a moment before he forces his body to relax, Oberyn despised the mention of anything to do with the Lannisters, including that bastard on the throne. Everyone knows the rumors and with the golden mane of the boy and the tales of evils he has done, he’s inclined to believe it. “Gods be praised.” He murmurs sarcastically, reaching for the carafe of wine and the spare goblet that had obviously been left in anticipation of his visit with the elder prince. “What poor girl is marrying that…king?”

“Margaery Tyrell.” The elder prince huffs derisively before leveling his younger brother with a serious gaze. “You are to attend the wedding in my stead.”

Rolling his eyes, Oberyn sighs heavily. It will be two weeks of hard traveling to reach King’s Landing. All for a wedding he does not wish to attend. “I will extend the Martell family’s feelings.”

"You will be gracious and accommodating." Doran warns, knowing that the Martell family's true feelings are not appropriate in any way to be expressed at a wedding. "There will be some other business for you to attend to in King's Landing which is far more important."

“Yes, there is that wonderful brothel down in Flea Bottom.” Oberyn muses, grinning at the idea of bringing Ellaria there. The last time he had come, it had been two years before he had met her.

"Oberyn." His brother's voice has a warning tone to it. "I beg you not to waste your time in brothels on this trip no matter how enjoyable a pastime it may be. There is someone you need to meet."

He snorts and shakes his head. “I have no interest in meeting boring nobles with their equally boring wives.” He tells him. “I’ll be with Ellaria anyway.”

"No, you won't." Doran jerks away from his servant in frustration and turns to fully face Oberyn. "I will not have that woman jeopardize the contract I have signed when the ink is barely dry. Leave her home, Oberyn. She will be here with open legs when you return."

Oberyn’s brow arches up dramatically. Doran has never had issue with Ellaria, even counting her as a confidant in his absence. She is the mother of four of his children and a member of the family despite there being no vows between them. His soulmate. “What contract?” He growls.

"Leave." He hisses at the young man who was tending to him and he backs off immediately, taking the pot of oil back into the interior of the palace as fast as his feet can carry him. "It was time, Oberyn," he intones seriously. "Far past time, but I have let you have your freedom as long as I was able."

“Let me have my freedom?” His hackles rise and his eyes narrow. “I have my freedom because I wish it.” He reminds his brother. “I am not the head of the Martells like you, and you have your heir.”

"I have one heir." Doran bristles, but the raised tension between the brothers is his own fault. A product of the tension and pain he was already feeling today. "If anything should happen to Trystane, it will be you on the throne. And though I have great love for my nieces, none of them can be a princess."

“Our house will endure like it always has.” Oberyn snorts, dismissing Doran’s concern. “If the time comes, I will marry Ellaria and claim my Sand Snakes as legitimate.” He takes a long sip of his wine, humming at the delightfully floral note.

"The chance for that has passed." It is Doran's turn to be dismissive, sitting back again in his wheeled chair and adjusting a cushion under his arm. "Your objections to marriage have been noted, brother, but it is time to make a respectable husband of you. Ellaria will understand. She is an intelligent woman, and I'm sure would not abandon you as your mistress." Oberyn prefers the term paramour, and though it is accurate now, it will be more complicated once things are settled.

“Brother, what have you done?” Oberyn demands, slamming his goblet down onto the table.

"You know exactly what I have done." There is no chance, in his mind, that Oberyn has not deduced that a marriage contract has been signed, but Doran still sighs heavily. "She is the only daughter of a noble family. The father let her go without a match for some time while her brothers all married, but her portrait is beautiful and he assures me that she is accomplished." Reaching for the wine glass that Oberyn has rejected, Doran takes a gulp rather than a sip. "And she has no marks, blessedly."

“The agreement was my soulmate or no one.” Oberyn hisses, his gaze turning withering. “I will not marry some cow faced northerner.”

"Every place is northern to Dorne," Doran waves one hand dismissively and sets the wine glass back down on the table between them. "The contract is signed, Oberyn. You will not make a liar or a fool of your brother by denying it, and I am not going to try to force you to spend time with the girl or even like her. But you will marry her and produce a legitimate heir." The contract is full of terms to be adhered to, and the fairly enormous size of the girl's dowry includes access to trade routes that will greatly benefit the people of Dorne. There is no downside to this arrangement in Doran's mind, aside from having to have this discussion with his brother.

Oberyn’s lips press together in a firm line and his chair scrapes back as he stands. “Then you fuck the girl.” He hisses. “For I will not be gracing her bed.” Turning on his heel, the prince storms away before he loses his infamous temper.

Doran breathes a sigh, reaching for the goblet again to drown his frustrations in the wine that his maester has instructed him to avoid when he is in pain. "Fuck it," he grumbles harshly. Oberyn is going to make his life a living hell anyway, he may as well be drunk for it.

******

“Marriage!” Oberyn scoffs angrily, pacing in front of the lounge where his paramour is currently sprawled. “As if I am some fresh-faced maiden. How dare he sign a contract on my behalf!”

"I smell Mellario behind it," Ellaria admits, watching him pace back and forth like a caged beast. Oberyn had come careening back into his chamber like a sandstorm and now he was seething. "Doran has never had issue with your arrangement before now, and suddenly he is concerned about heirs? I would not be surprised if her change has come."

“Or he cannot get his cock to rise.” Oberyn winces at the idea of his own cock not working, but with his brother’s declining health, he would not rule it out. “I will not do it.” He decides. “We will leave for Braavos if he decides to push the issue.”

"My love," Ellaria sits up, shaking her head. "If you leave here, I would follow. You know this. But you would still have four daughters you would not be able to see and we both know that would break your heart." His children are the most important thing in the world to Oberyn – everyone knows this – and Doran would certainly use them as a punishment for insubordination. "Exile is no choice, Oberyn. Even self-imposed."

Pausing mid-stride, his robes swish around his legs as he turns to stare at the woman who had been with him and by his side for nearly twenty years. “You would have me entertain this idea?” He demands, surprised she would consider this.

“I would not have you be less of a man than you are.” For all her complexities, Ellaria Sand is not the temptress or the snake that some make her out to be. Her genuine love for Oberyn is rooted in as much respect as it is passion, and their four daughters currently have a father that they can look up to as a good and wise man. “What is the worst this girl could be?” She poses the question carefully as he shifts his weight anxiously in front of her, and she folds her hands in her lap. “Ugly? That is not her fault. The sun and good company can make anyone more beautiful. Cruel? Doran has already said you do not have to spend much time with her. Or perhaps childish? Spoiled? Then you treat her like a child and send her to her chamber without a treat if she misbehaves.” There is anger in his face, which Ellaria hates to see, but she tries to be encouraging. Motherhood has taught her that encouragement can be a balm on almost any wound. “So you would be married. What does that signify? Nothing in so far as you and I are concerned. You are still my soulmate, my love. And the father of my children. She cannot change that.”

“You are my sun.” Oberyn reaches down and takes his lover’s hand to draw her to her feet. Pulling her against his body, his broad hand covers the small scar on her side, a knife wound that he had earned in the fighting pits. “My world.” He promises, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers in a passionate kiss, trying to rid himself of the idea of tying himself to another. Ellaria is his soulmate, which is why he had said that he would only marry the woman who bears his marks.

"And no one will ever change that." She vows just as solemnly, giving herself over to the kiss without restraint. There are parts of his world that she does not stray into, or they would have fought with Doran for the right to marry years ago. The elder Martell brother may not mind her as Prince Oberyn's paramour, but she is not what he would envision for a princess of Dorne, nor does Ellaria particularly want such a title. For Oberyn she might have borne the duty of it all, but he never asked that of her and she was grateful. Now, whoever this girl is that is being thrust into their life will bear that burden instead. Ellaria does not envy her the responsibility.

******

“My love, you must calm yourself.” Within the walls of your chambers, Raeden Stone knows that the two of you are safe. Your maid will not interrupt unless necessary and she is sworn to protect your happiness and well-being above everything else, including your parents. “Stop.” Striding across the room, the sword at his side clanks as he grabs your hands filled with dresses, and takes them from you. “We cannot flee under the cover of darkness like we are thieves escaping the sword.” He knows that if he is caught, he will be killed or sent to the Wall as well.

"I won't do it." The very idea is offensive, leaving the taste of burnt crumbs in your mouth and the feeling of insects crawling on your skin, so that even with Raeden clutching your hand all you can think of is being rid of the horrible sensation. This whole horrible situation. Your eyes are already red from tears, their dried tracks left on your cheeks and down your neck, yet still more threaten to spill over as he holds you still. "I won't marry a stranger and move halfway across the world. I won't leave you behind!"

“You will not need to leave me.” Setting the clothes down on the trunk that is meant to be packed for your journey to King’s Landing and then to Dorne, he cups your cheeks. “I will pledge to accompany you.” He promises, his dark eyes boring into yours. His heart aches but he had known this day would eventually come. “I will ride into all seven hells if need be to stay beside you.”

"Why can we not just tell them?" Your smaller hands wrap around his long fingers, holding tight to him as though he might disappear if you let go. "To marry my soulmate should not be such a shocking thing to do, surely?" Having gone over and over it in their time together, you know why. Status. For a young noble woman to marry a bastard of no consequence, soulmate or otherwise, would be unacceptable in any part of Westeros.

“I have no name to offer you, other than Stone.” Raeden reminds you, aware of his station. He had only become a trusted member of your guard when he had risked his life for you nearly three winters ago. No one knew of the shared marks on your skin. No one could know. “No coin, no land, no future.”

"I could be your future." The argument is an old one. Aged and worn like the stones in your floor. The fact that you would abandon your station and your family for him is moot now that your father has sold you. "Three brothers married wealthy wives and yet I am the sacrificial lamb to be offered up to the lecherous second prince of Dorne." The stories of the man's temperament and deeds preceded him, of course. Lusty and vengeful, the second son of House Martell was to be feared never spoken of above a whisper in polite company. And now you have to marry him?

“I have heard he is handsome.” Despite his own heart aching at the thought of another touching you, he has to make this seem like a good thing. “They say he will treat any in his bed respectfully.”

"He could be the most handsome man in all of Dorne and he would still not be as handsome as you." Soulful eyes the color of chestnut shells, plush lips, and a perpetually mischievous smile when he’s pleased, there is no one more handsome than Ser Raeden Stone. Firm muscles and an impressive strength make him as formidable on the battlefield as they do in the bedroom - a fact which you have kept mum about for years now. Raeden's broad frame and towering height envelope you fully when you wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face in his chest to muffle a sob. "I will never lay with him. Or love him. Not as long as I live."

“You will be his wife.” He swallows as he says those words. “You will bear his children, love or not. And I will protect you.” It will be his own special kind of hell, watching you grow with a child that is not his, marry a man who is not him. “You must not tell him, love.”

"How can you be so calm?" You demand, looking up at him with fear and hurt swimming in your eyes. "My father is sentencing me to stand at the side of another man and you...my love, I cannot believe you are accepting of this?"

“I have no choice but to accept it.” His voice hardens slightly. “If we try to run away together, we will be caught. I will be killed or sent to the Wall.” It rankles, but he had known that one day you would be married off. “I cannot protect you if I am dead or taken the oath.” He growls, shaking his head and leaning in to press his forehead against yours. “I cannot risk leaving you alone.”

"Only cruel gods would have given us to each other as soulmates without ever intending to allow our love." It is an unfairness of life that you have lamented more than once, but right now it feels as though a dagger has been plunged through your heart and twisted violently.

“The gods know of our love.” Raeden knows it, sighing softly. “We are together and we will still be together.” He kisses you softly. “I spend more nights in your bed than my own. It will be the same in Dorne.”

"I will not allow it to be any other way." Despite the fear of the unknown, the thing that you can cling to is the strength of your feelings for Raeden Stone. Since the day he arrived rather triumphantly in your life, he has been a constant and welcome presence and you will not allow any power to steal your soulmate from your side. "No prince from Dorne will ever keep you from my arms."

“There is my girl.” Raeden smiles, happy that you are calm again and he presses closer to you. “Now…do you wish that I take your mind off your worries?” He coos softly.

“I always wish for you.” Though time is precious now, as you leave for King’s Landing in just three days and the road is no place for a romantic interlude. Raeden will not even be allowed to ride in your carriage during the journey. His place as your guard demands that he protect you, not indulge in you. Although he is fully capable of doing both.

The grin that you have said melts you flashes across his face and he pulls back so he can remove his belt and sword. “Then let me make you forget about Dorne, forget about marriage and only think of me.”

******

The painstaking journey feels ludicrous, and your weary mother certainly has not made it any easier with her complaining. The decision for your parents to accompany you was entirely your father’s and even then it was only so that he could brag to his small group of friends that he attended the king’s wedding. If this were only about delivering you to your groom, he would have sent you with your guard and your maid and thought no further on it. As it is, you have spent every day sitting beside your mother’s lady’s maid in the cramped and uncomfortable carriage praying that you might get even ten minutes alone with Raeden before the end of the day. It has hardly happened, and you have found yourself near tears rather constantly. Ignorant man that your father is, he imagines you so delirious with joy that you are weeping for your good fortune. The truth could not be further away.

“Do not fret.” Your mother assures you softly. “We have long had daughters marry in Dorne or Dornish brides sent to us.” She reminds you. “While most will look their noses down at a Dornish man, we know he will treat you well.”

“I still do not see why this marriage is even necessary.” And since no one has offered you any sort of explanation, you’re inclined to just ask. “My brothers married wealthy women. We do not need the favour of House Martell. So I am forced to wonder again why I am being offered to them in sacrifice.”

“Change is coming to Westeros.” Your mother leans in, her words quiet and fervent. “Dorne is the last kingdom that still has royalty. You will not just be a lady, you will a princess.”

"I do not want to be a princess." You inform her flatly, ignoring the way her lady's laid looks aghast at your ingratitude. "My own maid had more freedom than I do. At least someone asked her if she wanted to be shipped south like chattel. And she was even able to say no!" Though Clarey had served you since you came of age, your own maid had been able to marry her soulmate and had recently discovered she was with child. Your father had considered himself quite magnanimous for not breaking up that family to send her to Dorne with you.

“You would have your father break his contract with Dorne?” Your mother asks, appalled at the mere idea. “You were born into a noble house. You have grown up knowing your father would arrange a marriage for you. Most are married at seventeen.” She clicks her tongue in disappointment that you are forever ungrateful for the time your father had allowed you to remain unwed. If you only knew the rumors that had swirled.

"If you always planned to marry me against my will then I wonder that you waited so long." Staring out of the carriage window, you can see Raeden up ahead, face drawn in concentration as he keeps constant vigilance over the route you are traveling. "Why not have signed me away to the Starks when I was born?" The bitterness in your voice is obvious. "Then I would have been a queen."

“You will watch your sharp tongue, or you shall be sent to your room without dinner.” Your mother hisses, sitting back and shaking her head. “Your father wanted to hold out hope for a soulmate.”

"I am not a child, as you so love to point out when it is convenient to you." The threat of no dinner is nothing when you have no appetite to begin with. It would be a blessing not to be stared at over a meager meal. "And you can hardly send me to my room when I haven't one. We will not even arrive in King's Landing before first light tomorrow."

Your mother’s hand strikes out, slapping your cheek with a sharp crack. “You will not shame your father and house.” She hisses. “I have long begged your father to marry you off, to stop giving into your childish notions, but no more. You will marry Oberyn Martell.”

If the impulse to cup your own cheek was present, you don’t give in to it, not wanting to show the satisfaction of acknowledging that she has caused you pain of any kind. At the moment all you can really think is that it is good Raeden did not witness your mother striking you, or he may have given himself away with his reaction. “At least in Dorne I will never again be forced to breathe the same odious air you have exhaled.” No one in all of Westeros could ever have mistaken your mother for your ally if they saw you interact in private – it is only her sickly sweet countenance in public that made others think that she had babied or favoured you in any way. More than once in your life you’ve wondered how such a hateful woman could even grow a babe let alone birth four of them.

“You will learn your place soon enough.” She promises you. “You are a woman, not a man.” Her disappointment in you pours off of her in waves. “Be thankful your father did not choose a fat, aging lord.”

“Fat and aging means he would die faster.” At least antagonizing your mother is passing the time, you decide, staring straight ahead at the pompous boil of a woman who has lorded herself over you for the last twenty-five years. “I think I would do very well as a widow.”

“I wonder if your bravery would falter learning that your guard will not be staying with you.” The sly, evil menace in your mother’s voice is clear.

“Of course he will.” Brazen confidence is the tone which drowns out your panicked fear, and you tell yourself not to look outside and give yourself away. That could ruin everything in less than one heartbeat. “He swore to Father to protect me and Father accepted.” If something had changed, surely Raeden would have told you.

“Hmmmm.” Her smile is acidic, her fingers twisting around her handkerchief. “You think you are soooo clever. That I did not know.”

“Honestly?” Honestly you really did not think for a second that anyone besides your former maid knew anything, but you swallow down the boiling acid in your throat and keep your chin poised to stare your own mother down. “I do not know what you could possibly mean.”

“I birthed you.” She snorts, a very unladylike sound. “You think I do not know when my daughter had decided to spread her legs and become a Stone’s whore?”

Of course the thing that bothers her most is that Raeden is a bastard – Stone, as they are named in the Vale – and not an actual concern of safety or care. “I can assure you, that is not the case.” Though saying it would be a waste of breath, nothing you have done with Raeden could mark you as a whore. Just a woman very much in love with her soulmate.

“At least you just bled.” She scoffs. “Not carrying a bastard in your belly.” She leans in, her eyes flashing with malice. “Behave. Or I will allow your father into my bed for the night and he will do as I say. Including making sure your precious Raeden rides home to the Vale with his lord, your father.” She threatens.

Though you have serious doubts that your mother’s cunt is magical enough to control your father’s thoughts, it isn’t a chance you’re willing to take. If Raeden is ordered to return to the Vale and you are forced to ride for Dorne without him, you are more likely to see the bottom of the seas than your marriage bed. “My Lord Father loves me and wishes to protect me,” is all you say in response.

“Your Lord Father will do what makes me happy.” She promises you with a self-assured smirk. “Especially now that I have convinced him to marry you off.”

“It was you?” You should not be so shocked. Her hatred for you has been obvious from the time you were a child and had never seemed to waver. Your father, on the other hand? Doting and indulgent, always picking flowers for you and bringing you books instead of suitors. Your brothers are strong men with discipline instilled in them. You had been allowed to read and dream and sing and ride at your leisure. Of course his sudden change of heart was down to your bitter, angry mother.

“Who else?” She sneers. “Your father would be content to keep you around until you are nothing but a spinster. You are already past your prime. Luckily enough, the Prince of Dorne already has eight bastards.”

The way her utter dismissal of you makes your blood boil is beyond explanation, but as you squeeze your hands together in the pockets of your robe, only one precious thought floats to the surface. “My only solace is that if I should ever see you again after this week, Mother, you shall have to curtsy to the person you despise most in the world.”

“I will not.” She hisses, glaring at you. “I will never bow to a little whore like you.”

“Oh, but you will.” A victory, even a small one, is enough to grasp at as you square your shoulders again. “When I am Princess of Dorne it will be required of everyone save King Joffrey himself. You included.”

“Bitch.” She hisses, glaring at you. “I should have drowned you the moment you slipped from my womb.”

“A regret you will live with forever.” If Knocking her from her wicked confidence is the best you can do in this conversation, you will not take that for granted, for your mother has always been a formidable enemy. “Now leave me to read, Mother. Lest you earn yourself another wrinkle and find your hair a shade greater than it was when we left home.”

“I will be overjoyed to not see your face every day.” She spits, hating that you don’t seem cowed by her threats. “Dorne will be eye opening for you. And everything you deserve:”

“As you say, Mother.” Without another word, you take the small book of histories from your reticule and open it to the place where you left off last night, too distracted by Raeden’s handsome face to give any more thought to words. False confidence is a thing you learned very well in the face of your mother’s vitriol, and apparently on this one occasion it has actually yielded a victory. You may still be terrified of your future in Dorne, but she never needs to know that.

******

“This city still smells like shit.” Two weeks of travel has left Oberyn irritable, grumbling as he pulls his horse up to the gates of the city. “Let us go find comfort and a bath.” He tells Ellaria, unable to stay in the carriage and deciding to ride ahead of the contingent of troops Doran had sent with him.

“At the brothel, my love?” She smirks at the suggestion, far less uncomfortable from travel than he is. “A bath, fresh food, and a good fuck will restore your mood.”

“Of course.” Oberyn scoffs. “I will not accept chambers in that keep.” He hates even being here and seeing it. Wanting to burn it down, considering his sister, niece and nephew died in that keep.

“Nor should you.” As a prince he should have the most resplendent rooms available, but they both know what would happen if Oberyn ever set foot in the Red Keep beyond the wedding in two days. “We will visit this Littlefinger you have spoken of?”

“I had sent word that we were arriving.” He chuckles, smirking at Ellaria because she knows him so well. “Tell me you don’t want a hot bath and an even hotter cunt?”

“If I am honest, I am ravenous for a cunt to bury my tongue in.” There is never any judgment between them, or jealousy, and Ellaria sighs indulgently at the idea of a slick cunt and perky tits to indulge in. “Will you share with me, lover?”

“Always.” Oberyn waggles his brows. “We will pick out a whore together.”

“A favorite pastime.” Ellaria laughs softly. She has not spoken a word about Oberyn’s intended bride since they left Dorne and she won’t until it’s necessary. His mood is volatile here in the northern capital and she does not relish his moments of anger.

“Silk sheets.” Oberyn groans, not willing to admit that he is weary of travel, but he needs to recover. Especially if he is to be meeting this bride. He had decided that the poor girl deserves to be told in person that he will have nothing to do with her.

“Silk sheets. Roasted meats. Wine. Berries and nuts fresh from their trees.” She giggles when his hand slips inside her dress to caress her skin. “And a pert ass for you to bury yourself in.”

“We could get two. A man and a woman.” He reasons, smirking at the idea. “Perhaps we will have Littlefinger line them all up for us to choose from.”

“As many as you like, my love.” After all, it is not as if the coffers of Dorne lack for funds. They have brought a fortune with them under Doran’s insistence that Oberyn shower his intended with gifts – and a second fortune to pay for the bills his natural extravagance will no doubt incur. “We will have whatever you desire. And when you have had your fill we will rest and then begin all over again.”

“Wine.” Oberyn decides, frowning despite thinking of nicer things as the two of them enter the walls of King’s Landing. “I will need a lot of wine.”

Their destination is not far, but the duo of Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand attract attention by virtue of their combined beauty and the onlookers who cluster to gaze at them make their journey last longer. Oberyn sends their driver off with the carriage to find stables nearby and Ellaria wraps her arms around him when he returns to her side in the steps of the building. “Do you hear the false moans, my prince?” She pouts in sympathy for the unsatisfied women inside as they cross the threshold together. “We will make them scream so they never forget us.”

Oberyn smirks, holding her hand with no shame. He does not hide Ellaria, she is his paramour. Much more than that, although that is something that is kept between the two of them, private at her insistence so she does not become a liability to him. “We will, my love. Every whore in this brothel will pout when you leave.”

“Very pretty pouts, I hope.” Ellaria loves a very pretty pout when the time is right. To be begged to come back to bed. To have a lover cry her name with such passion that their heart aches for more. She saunters into the brothel beside Oberyn with her head high and looks around as the prettily dressed woman at the entrance fawns over Oberyn. Everyone fawns over Oberyn, that is of little interest to her.

Oberyn eyes the cunts and tits on display, lifting a brow when he sees earrings through one woman’s nipples. “I see we are in the right place.” He smirks, watching as Littlefinger rushes over to the pair.

“Prince Oberyn.” Though he does not ever bow deeply, he does bow, eyes tracking over to Ellaria with an oily smile. “My lady. What an honour to be graced with your presence. What can we provide for you this morning?”

“My lady?” Ellaria scoffs, making Oberyn smirk and squeeze her hand. “We will be needing accommodations for the duration of our stay in King’s Landing.” Most brothels do not rent rooms and he is sure that Littlefinger’s establishment is no different but Oberyn has learned that his title and the gold of his coin makes things possible when they previously weren’t. “For now, until it is ready, we need baths and whores to join us.”

“The duration of your stay?” The man does not bother to hide his surprise, but smiles broadly like the showman that he is. “I will send someone to ready your accommodations,” he promises, hand on heart. “Our baths are this way,” Littlefinger motions deeper into the building. “Do you have a preference for who should join you or shall I send you a variety to choose from?” There is enough gold dripping from the Prince of Dorne that Littlefinger will unfold the world of pleasure at his feet if that is what he wishes, without worry for his ability to pay what is owed.

“Your choicest men and women.” Oberyn looks over to Ellaria for her approval. “Clean.” He insists, although Littlefinger’s whores are always of a higher caliber than most. “We will send the others away once we have chosen.”

“Leyth.” Littlefinger waves to a tall, buxom girl with orange curls down to her waist. “Tend to the prince and his lady for me,” he instructs her, obviously trusting that she can do the job. “Anything they need, you will acquire for as long as they are here, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” The girl called Leyth nods and smooths her thin skirt, looking between the beautiful prince and his stunning lady. “I will be happy to serve them.”

“Good.” The chuckle that bubbles out of Littlefinger is full of approval. “Take them to the baths and then fetch them food and wine.” He smiles at Oberyn, a thing dripping with false charm. “I will send you a selection of company to choose from.”

“Berries.” Oberyn adds, the need for fresh fruit after weeks on the road is great. Ellaria chuckles, well aware of his fondness for snacking, especially when he is fucking.

“Berries.” Leyth bats her eyelashes prettily as she leads the pair down the hall. “Do you prefer sweet things, your Grace?”

“Hmmmm.” He doesn’t answer one way or the other, although his gaze is sliding up and down her form and he reaches out to caress her ass through the sheer robe she is wearing.

She hums right back at him, playful but bidding, and slows her pace slightly to let him touch as they turn the corner to the bathing room. The deep bath in the floor sits full and waiting for paying customers, beautifully tiled with trays of soap and sponges for gently scrubbing skin. The oiled waters smell of flower petals, and two baths are even littered with the things. Leyth walks toward the bath of floral water with a sultry smile and a swing in her hips. “I will wash you with my own hands if that is your wish, after I fetch you food to break your fast.”

“What do you say my love?” Oberyn asks Ellaria. “Leyth and whoever catches our eyes?” He would love to see his paramour’s thighs spread for the orange haired beauty. “Or would you prefer to choose the woman?”

“You are lovely, Leyth.” Ellaria praises, already having decided that she likes this woman’s spirit as well as her figure. “We will see who else catches our eye when they arrive.”

“Show me your tits.” Oberyn commands the woman. Eager to see if they are as perky as they seem or if it is an illusion of the gown she is wearing.

Obedience is necessary to work for Littlefinger, but Leyth is lucky to have been given to this couple she finds so attractive. She slips the ties from her shoulders and lets her silken dress fall to the stone floor with pride. Her body is well worth selling and has given her a good living, so she proudly bares her large tits and curved waist to this prince when he demands it.

“Very nice.” Oberyn groans with a smirk. “They will look lovely bouncing when you ride my cock.” He predicts. “We can undress ourselves.” He promises, turning to Ellaria and pushing aside her own gown so he can cup her bare breast, tweaking an already hard nipple.

Ellaria moans happily when the girl excuses herself to fetch their food, and drops the traveling robe she was wearing to the ground immediately. “Lover…” she sighs, her body arching to seek Oberyn’s touch instinctively. “You were right about this place.”

“Of course I am right.” He teases playfully, leaning in and dragging his nose along her throat. “Now, we need to wash so we can be ready to play when the whores are brought in. I want to feed you fruit while a tongue is buried in your cunt.”

“Leyth is a beauty.” Ellaria disrobes easily and quickly, leaving her things scattered as she steps into the bath built deep into the floor. It is warm and smells sweet, like summer in the Water Gardens. “Pale, but I like her freckles.” She looks up at Oberyn with admiration as he shrugs off his own robes. “I like your freckles better, though.” Especially the one on the inside of his right thigh, high on his muscled leg where she can kiss it before swallowing his cock.

“Just like her tits are gorgeous, but yours have suckled four of my children.” His cock twitches and he kicks off his boots, throwing the loose, pale yellow shirt off and reaching for his leather breeches.

“Hers are bigger than mine.” Ellaria chuckles at the way he loves tits. “Enjoy them, lover. I know I shall.”

“You always do.” He chuckles, thanking the gods that his soulmate is just as adventurous as he is. “Maybe she will be the only one we choose for now.”

“Perhaps.” Sighing as she lays back in the water, Ellaria tilts her head and soaks her hair, enjoying the way she feels cleaner already. “Perhaps we will develop a taste for sun-red hair while we are here.”

“Whatever we develop a taste for, we will indulge in.” Oberyn does not mind sharing her, doesn’t get jealous because she is his sun and world. No one could break their bond.

“Come to me, lover.” She beckons him with both hands, pouting for him prettily. Now that travel is behind them, Oberyn is already cheerier and it lightens her heart. “Soak with me. It has been weeks since we had a bath.”

“With pleasure.” Stripped down, Oberyn strides over to the bath and starts to descend the stairs to join her in the deep tub.

Ellaria moves to him immediately, arms welcoming him home and lips finding his with a deeply satisfied moan. Her legs are around his waist as quickly as his hands find her ass, and his growing cock twitches against her soft skin.

Oberyn turns around, letting his paramour cling to him as he drops down onto the seat under the water. “I love you.” He murmurs quietly against his lips.

“As I love you.” Since the day they first spoke the words to each other they have not wavered, and Ellaria runs her hands across Oberyn’s skin reverently. “My warrior.”

“My sun.” Oberyn squeezes her ass and rocks her onto his hardening cock. “My world.” The passion between the pair has not wavered over the years, growing stronger in a way that could only be because of their soulmate bond.

“Oberyn.” No matter how many times she takes him, the stretch of his cock inside her takes her breath away. Her hands find his shoulders to cling to him as they find their pace, with his grip guiding her as she begins to bounce on his length in earnest.

“Too soon, my love?” He teases, knowing she is far more than adequately wet. She is dripping.

“Never.” She shakes her head before throwing it back, letting her moan ring out through the echoey chamber. “Never. I am always yours.”

Multi-tasking is a gift that Oberyn has. Results of a wandering spirit and a restless mind. It was one of the reasons he had joined the maesters and eventually left after forging eight links. He reaches for the perfumed soap and a rag to wash his lover.

They are fully enraptured with each other when Leyth returns, and she sets the tray down beside them before seeing about pouring two goblets of wine. It’s rare to have pairs of lovers visit the establishment but not unheard of, and she smiles indulgently, watching the passion they share for a moment before making herself known. “I can do that for you, your Grace,” she offers, knowing her employer will be upset if she neglects them.

Even with Ellaria impaled on his cock, Oberyn tears his mouth away from her lips and looks over at the woman. “Join us and bring the wine.” He orders. “Are the others coming?”

“They are right here.” Leyth slips into the water easily, taking the sponge from him and resumes the work of bathing his lady without missing a beat. Four women and two men all of varying ages and looks pour into the room behind her clad in next to nothing looking apprehensive.

“Do not be shy.” Oberyn turns Ellaria’s head and groans when she clenches down around him. “Any who wish to not join us may leave now.” He does not want someone who is timid.

The most tired looking of the women takes the youngest girl by the hand and leads her from the room with a respectful nod of her head, and one of the men bows before stepping out behind them. "Leaving us with five supple bodies to learn," Ellaria groans appreciatively. Between Oberyn's cock and Leyth's hands massaging her back as she washes her, this is surely already one of the seven heavens. One of the girls is the first to step forward, beautiful dark skin on display and bright eyes full of mischief as she easily discards her meager dress and slips into the water right away. She has heard legends of the second prince of Dorne and intends to find out for herself if they are true.

“Eager.” Oberyn chuckles and beckons her forward. “I like that.” His eyes slide past her towards the remaining man, tall and broad. His tawny skin clear and it’s obvious that his cock is starting to harden as he watches. “You—” he motions towards him. “Do you suck cock or like cock in your ass?”

"I like whatever you like, my lord." After all, is that not what he is here for? Being a man with a voracious appetite for pleasure makes him an asset in a place like this.

Oberyn growls, eyeing his cock tenting the loose trousers he is wearing. “Strip and join us if you are going to.”

Spacious as it is, there is not enough room for everyone in the bath, and the last remaining girl lays down bare on the edge after everyone has climbed in and patiently plays with herself while she waits her turn. There is plenty to feast her eyes on until one of them decides to bury their face in her pussy.

Twitching inside his lover, he kisses her gently and pulls her off his cock. “Go play, my love.” He urges her, knowing she wants to do more than just be touched.

"We may learn to enjoy King's Landing after all." Ellaria laughs, happily letting hands explore her skin. Leyth and the man gravitate toward Oberyn, and she is happy to drown herself in a sea of pussy until she is drunk on the sound of women's pleasure.

When he is close enough, Oberyn reaches down and cups the man’s cock firmly. “What is your name?” He demands, squeezing him gently and jerking him slowly.

"Cal, my lord." His eyelids flutter slightly at the firm touch, eager for more. "Or whatever you want it to be."

“Cal….” He smirks and presses his thumb against the head of the man’s cock. “Have you ever been fucked by a Prince?”

The way Cal shudders and his breath hitches is reverent, and he shakes his head as he tries to remember to breathe. "No, your Grace. But I would like to be."

He turns to Leyth, jerking his chin up. “Kiss me.” he orders, stretching his neck out and lets go of the man’s cock so he can slide his hand around him to press between the cheeks of his ass.

The room fills with moans as Leyth eagerly complies, licking into the prince's mouth with surety. She knows her skill and she hopes to impress, even pressing closer to him to wrap her own hand around his cock.

Oberyn hisses, his tongue sliding against hers happily as he finds Cal’s puckered hole quickly and starts to rub around the opening.Hands are everywhere as Cal lowers his head to lay kisses along the taut muscles of the prince's neck, one hand caressing his skin and the other groping for Leyth's breast to squeeze the supple flesh and play with her nipple. They are paired together often, when clients wish for a show, so he knows her body as well as any instrument.

“You are lovers.” Oberyn groans, pushing a finger inside the man’s quivering hole. On the other side of the bath, Ellaria and the ebony skinned beauty are tangled together in a passionate embrace.

"Sometimes." Leyth agrees, leaning over to give Cal a kiss without missing a single stroke of the prince's cock.

The sounds of heavy breathing and pleasure are filling the bathing room and he can feel the way Cal’s body squeezes his finger as he pumps it into him to stretch him out. “So do you want his cock or his tongue while I fuck him?”

"If I have his cock, I will feel every time you fuck into him." She moans at the idea, chest heaving with just the thought. "You will be driving us both wild with pleasure."

He chuckles and nods, pulling his fingers out of the other man. “Then get on your knees and let him slide inside your cunt.”

Kneeling on the bench where he had been sitting, Leyth presents herself easily for both men to appreciate and sighs out loud when the familiar stretch of Cal's cock presses inside of her wet heat. She knows that Cal is truly the one getting spoiled today and hopes the prince lives up to every rumour for his sake.

Oberyn can’t help but reach out and slap her ass and groans when her generous skin jiggles. “I will fuck you after I have had my fill of your lover.”

"He is insatiable," Ellaria offers, chuckling deeply before burying her face in the cunt nearest her talented mouth. Oberyn is not the only one with an endless appetite. It is one of the reasons that they have so much fun together.

“It has been two weeks.” He huffs, rolling his eyes. There hadn’t been any place to stop and fuck while on the road. He was pent up.

"No one here will complain, my lord." Cal promises, burying himself again in Leyth's cunt and groaning at her heat. "The stories of you are legend, and most of us are eager to know if they are true."

“They are true.” Ellaria pulls his tongue out of the cunt to purr her vote of confidence.

“Thank you, my love.” Oberyn chuckles and reaches for the oils that are kept on the edge of the bath for things such as this.

"Then we will add our praise to the stories that already exist." Soon Leyth will be able to do nothing but take the thrusts from the two men above her, but for now she meets each movement with a roll of her plush hips.

"We are yours for as long as you wish to stay." It is only half of a promise from Cal himself, having been instructed by Littlefinger himself to give Prince Oberyn whatever he wants, but at least now Cal can make the vow with pleasure.

Oberyn has no doubt that these people have been told to do whatever he or his paramour likes but he will only take what he deems right. “Only if I bring you both pleasure.”

"I cannot imagine you have trouble giving pleasure." Cal moans, bending over Leyth's back to present himself to the prince for the taking.

Coating his cock in enough oil to wash his entrance, the water in the bath sloshes as he shuffles closer and takes himself in hand. Pressing closer and pushing the head of his cock against the other man’s hole and slowly rolls his hips forward to break him open.

Cal curses, eyes rolling back into his head as the prince's girth fills him, and in turn pushes his cock further into Leyth's fluttering pussy. The bathing room may as well be their own private party in this moment, because of the large handful of people indulging in each other no one notices Littlefinger lurking by the doorway. True pleasure is rare in a whorehouse, so this is sure to be a lucrative visit for the proprietor.

Oberyn lets out a lusty groan when his hips are flush against the other man’s ass. “You do not flinch away.” He praises, wrapping his long arms around the man so he can cup Leyth’s generous breasts while he waits for the man’s muscles to relax around him.

“Pleasure is a gift.” Cal’s body shudders as he takes Oberyn fully, the stretch of him making the man pant and reach back to grasp the prince’s hip. “You have a very large gift, my lord.”

Oberyn chuckles quietly, pleased with Cal’s words and leans in to nibble on his ear. Enjoying the way he shudders again. “Let me show you what I can do with that gift.”

******

The Red Keep looms above you when you finally step out of your carriage, trying with all your might to block out your mother’s voice muttering indignities that your party was not greeted by a royal retinue at the city line. What utter nonsense. Your house is ancient and wealthy, yes, but certainly not royal and there is no reason for the royal Baratheons or Lannisters to pay you any heed. At least, outside the carriage, you can finally be more than a foot and a half away from your mother again.

“Alright, pumpkin?” Your father beams down at you before swinging off of his horse.

“Of course, Papa.” Of course not is the truth, but after days of spitting venom you are too tired to put up much of a fight. Besides, now that you know this is your mother’s doing, it is hard to be upset with your father for simply being a fool.

Your father beams at you as he steps beside you and offers you his arm. Not having an opportunity to talk much on the road, he wants to assure you. “I understand you are nervous because you have not been to Dorne, but your grandmother and her mother are from Dorne.” He reminds you. “And there is family in Braavos and across the Narrow Sea.” The long tradition of finding love outside the Vale is common, your father finding the free-spirited prince to be a far worthier match for you than some sniveling little lord grasping for favor. The idea that his daughter will be princess is also a factor.

“I shall visit them all at my earliest ability.” The idea of traveling to see family you have never met sounds infinitely preferable to spending even a minute in the presence of the prince you never agreed to wed, and for a moment you almost relax at the idea.

“I doubt your husband will allow anything other than you spitting out his heirs for the next few years.” Your mother scoffs. “You will be visiting his bed.”

“That is not for you to know or to decide.” You tell her, though the fact that she may be right makes you sick to your stomach. Two steps behind the three of you, Raeden could not have missed the comment but you cannot exactly turn to look at him.

Raeden keeps his gaze down, your mother’s words in his mind as he tries to decide if he had made the right choice. Perhaps he should have run away with you. He’s noticed the captain of your father’s guard eyeing him so he had tried to be as impassive as possible. His heart aches at the idea of you in the Prince’s bed, despite the rumors of his prowess and propensity for men and women, something that he shamefully shares with the Prince of Dorne. He had fought his attraction to the other men around him. Not even sharing it with you.

“My lord. My ladies.” A steward in the hallway bows to you dutifully and opens his mouth to welcome you to the Red Keep, but a swish of skirts and a silky smooth voice cuts him off from behind. “Lollard, I will greet my guests,” she instructs, sounding nearly severe before her voice pitches up to something delighted and seemingly terribly excited. “I was so pleased to see your banner approach that I could not help myself.” The woman declares, and you cannot tell if she means it or not. “Lady Margaery Tyrell,” she introduces herself with a broad smile. “It was I who sent your invitation. Welcome to King’s Landing, and to the Red Keep.”

“You are even more beautiful than your portrait, Lady Margaery,” your mother gushes, simpering to the woman who appeared to be several years younger than even you. “And how thoughtful of you to include our House in your nuptial feast. We are honoured.”

“It is I who am honoured.” She steps toward you with a smile. “To have the future princess of Dorne amongst my guests, and of course the ancient connection between our Houses makes us loving cousins, does it not?” The marriage of a Tyrell daughter into your House was four generations ago, but Margaery has never been one to overlook a string that might be pulled in her favour. At least not after her grandmother pointed it out.

Future princess of Dorne. Raeden’s fists clench at his sides as he tries to ignore the fury in his heart at that simple phrase. You will be a princess, and the gap between your stations will be more vast than before.

“We are flattered by such a personal welcome.” Beside you, your father is talking and patting your hand on his arm, but you barely hear him. Each time another person calls you princess or refers to the man who bought you, you feel closer and closer to being sick all over the floor. Or perhaps sinking in a wasting depression. If both are possible simultaneously, that may be the answer.

“Forgive me.” When you find your voice it almost cracks, but you put one hand to your stomach delicately. “I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Lady Margaery, but I am afraid I feel quite ill from weeks of travel. Would it be possible to be escorted to our chamber so that I might be well enough for a turn around the gardens later?” An ally – any ally – may be worth grasping, and you enjoy the way this young woman made your mother frown by not paying attention to her. For right now, though, you would do anything to be alone so that Raeden could visit you.

“Forgive me.” Margaery bows her head respectfully and gives a small, sincere smile. “My manners have forsaken me.” She gestures towards the keep. “Allow me to show you personally to your rooms. A light repast has been laid out for your pleasure as well.”

“How very kind of you,” you murmur, knowing you won’t touch a thing. The reality of your situation has stolen your normally healthy appetite.

Clever blue eyes catch the subtle grimace when she mentions food and yet she doesn’t comment on it. Sensing that you will have much to talk about, Margaery had invited you to stay in the keep as her guest after learning of your betrothal to Oberyn Martell. “This way.” She smiles and motions towards the left corridor.

Though you might not be fond of the games of society, you were raised in them, and you have sense enough that when the future queen offers you her arm you take it. That is how the first glimpse many guests to court ever have of you is strolling arm-in-arm with the woman who will become queen in two days time. It does not matter that you just met. It does not matter that she is chattering away politely while you simply smile your polite smile and nod. The future queen of the Seven Kingdoms and the future princess of Dorne paint a very pretty picture on their way through the halls of the Red Keep with your family trailing behind. If you weren’t so desperate to be alone with Raeden again and attempt to forget all this is happening, you might more fully enjoy the way your mother is green with envy.

______

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