Disclaimer: I own nothing, although I would certainly like to own Oberyn. This was written purely for enjoyment, and no money is being made off of it.
Shafts of moonlight slanted through the drawn silk curtains in the bedchamber. A chill wind from the ocean rustled them. Oberyn didn't notice. It didn't matter. He lay there, in his uncommonly empty bed, his red rimmed eyes staring vacantly. Sleep was impossible. Only one thought ran through his head. She was dead. They had killed her.
He was in the throne room when Maester Caleotte presented Doran with the letter. Doran had simply looked at it for some time before finally opening it. They had only recently received word of their uncle Lewyn's death, after all. Slowly, hesitantly, Doran opened the letter and read it aloud. At first, Oberyn's brain refused to process the information. She couldn't be dead. Elia, his sister, the one person he loved more than anyone, even his own daughters, was not dead. It wasn't until Doran got to the more gruesome parts that the reality hit him. He ran from the room.
Once he was far enough away, he sank to his knees. He screamed. He sobbed. He beat his fists against the marble floor until they were raw. And finally, he wept. He hated himself for it. Weeping was weak. Vengeance was better.
As he lay in his cold, empty bed, memories of Elia kept flickering through his head. He tried to push them away; it was too painful. Too painful. But the stubborn memories refused to relent.
He & Elia played happily in the Water Gardens. He was always gentle with her since she was so small and frail…He had gone to Mother, he didn't understand why Elia couldn't play with him. "She is ill," Mother had said, "and I don't want you to become ill as well." He promised her he wouldn't and convinced her to let him see Elia…His sadness when he knew that going off to serve under Lord Qorgyle meant that they would be separated. "But you're going to learn how to be a knight," she'd said to him. "You've always wanted that."…He was arguing with Mother about Elia's Marriage. "She's too sickly! She could die in childbirth! And you marry her to the crown prince of the realm! She'll have to give him at least one child. Why does she have to be married at all!" If only Mother had listened, he thought bitterly…Elia was showing him baby Aegon. "Isn't he beautiful, Oberyn? I wasn't sure it would happen, but it did!" It was the same baby Aegon that Tywin Lannister had smashed against a wall.
Oberyn sat upright in bed, wholly abandoning the pretense of trying to sleep. He could feel the rage coursing through him once more. Mutely he wondered if Doran was asleep. He doubted it. Even through the pain of his own emotions, he heard the normally stoic Doran's voice break when he read the worst parts of that accursed letter. He stood and walked over to the stand where he kept his weapons and retrieved his sword. The feeling of the hilt in the palm of his hand made him feel better. They will pay. I will make them feel every bit of pain that she and the children felt-and then some!
He would find them. And he would kill them.
He imagined plunging his sword into Tywin Lannister's black heart. No- suddenly a better idea came to him. He imagined Tywin being whipped and thrown into a snakepit. He will die screaming, Oberyn promised.
His thoughts turned to Robert Baratheon. Tywin Lannister had laid the bodies of Elia and her children before his throne, the throne he stole. He would pay as well. Oberyn had seen Robert fight at many tournaments and he knew what the man was like. He would kill Robert himself, slicing through the fake king with his poisoned sword. Oberyn smiled as he imagined Robert lying at his feet, convulsing in pain as the poison devoured him, begging for mercy. Mercy he had denied Elia. Mercy Oberyn would never give him.
The ones who killed his sister had to die, and he knew just what to do. There was work to be done, and he would start tomorrow. He sheathed his sword and placed it on the weapons rack. He would have plenty to do tomorrow and he had to at least make an attempt at sleep. Doubtful. And what was the point of it anyway? Elia was dead. She had been brutally murdered on Tywin Lannister's orders.
Time passed. His emotions seemed to flip back and forth between violent rage and paralyzing grief. He wanted to scream until his throat was raw. He wanted to kill someone. His hands unconsciously balled into fists. Fantasies of Tywin dying horrible deaths filled his head. He swore he would see that fucker in his grave. He would watch Tywin Lannister die.
He was so deep in his revenge fantasy that his mind failed to register the sounds of a door opening and soft footsteps.
"Father?" a small voice said. Oberyn sat up with a jolt, the revenge fantasies departing as he identified the source of the voice.
"Tyene," he said tiredly, "should you not be sleeping?"
"I'm scared, Father. I can't sleep."
Oberyn sighed in annoyance. His girls knew better. "Tyene, there is nothing to be scared of. I have told you this. Go back to bed."
Tyene studied him for a minute before she spoke. "I'm afraid that the bad men who killed Aunt Elia and little Rhaenys and Aegon might come get me too." Tears began to slide down Tyene's pale cheeks.
That caught him off-guard. How does she know? He had not spared a thought for his daughters since hearing of Elia's death. Doran. He must've told them. He felt a sudden rush of anger at the thought. Doran shouldn't have told them! They were his daughters! It was his responsibility to tell them when he so chose, not Doran's! He pushed the anger aside and motioned for Tyene to sit next to him on the bed. The little girl immediately crawled into his lap. Reflexively, his arms encircled her and pulled her close to him. She looked up at him with those wide, blue eyes of hers, so like his own in everything but color. "I don't want them to kill me, Father!" she sobbed, and buried her face in his chest.
Normally, Oberyn would have chided her for crying, but he couldn't find it in himself to do that today. Instead he lifted a slender hand to stroke Tyene's hair. "They will never get you. I will never let them hurt you, Tyene. Never. Not while there is breath left in my body will I let someone harm you." His arms tightened around her, and he waited for her sobs to stop. After several minutes, they subsided. "Do you feel any better now?" Oberyn asked his daughter.
"Yes, Father," answered Tyene.
"Do you think you can go to sleep now?"
"I-I think so." Tyene paused. "But…can I sleep with you?"
"Yes," said Oberyn, "you may sleep with me. But I should tell you that I will likely not be sleeping tonight."
"Are you sad about Aunt Elia?" Tyene asked, her blue eyes filled with innocence.
Oberyn was quiet for a moment before answering. "Yes, Tyene. I am sad about Aunt Elia's death. You know I loved her very much."
"I want to stay with you anyway."
"All right, but you must promise me that you will try to sleep."
"Yes, Father," promised Tyene as she made herself comfortable on the bed. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Tyene." Oberyn kissed her as he lay down next to her. It didn't take very long for the little girl to fall asleep. Oberyn put a protective arm around her as she slept. But even as he did so, he thought back to what he'd said to Tyene. I will never let them get you, Tyene. Never. Not while there is breath left in my body will I let someone harm you. They were empty words, he realized. I can't protect Tyene or any of my girls, he thought angrily. I couldn't defend Elia. My whole life I tried to keep her safe, but in the end it didn't matter. I wasn't there to protect her, and they murdered her! He glanced over at Tyene once more. No. He would not allow his daughters to end up as Elia did. Even if he wasn't there to protect them, his daughters would be safe.
He would teach them how to use weapons and defend themselves.
Indeed, there were many things to be done.
A/N: An attempt to capture Oberyn's rage after learning of Elia's death. And I do believe that Elia's fate influenced the way he raised his daughters. He didn't want them to end up the way she did, so he taught them how to protect themselves. I also wanted to show a bit of his "fatherly" side beneath the cruel, bloodthristy, tempermental exterior. Hell, he took the trouble to find all of his daughters & raise them himself, unlike certain others coughROBERTcough
I don't know if the Martells knew all of the gory details about Elia's death initially or if they found out later, so I decided to include them for the sake of the story.