When we reached the colosseum, I looked around and felt sick. So many people were here, all cheering to watch men die for entertainment. I could hear them from outside. I shook my head and sighed. "There is nothing like the smell of shit and blood," Oberyn commented nostalgically. I looked up at him, "You spend a lot of your time placing bets on other mens deaths?" I asked with feigned interest. He eyed me in annoyance, "No, My Lady. Though I imagine men loved to bet on my own death," he remarked. I blinked as I fought to show my surprise. "How long ago did you fight?" I asked quietly. "A lifetime ago, My Lady," was all he provided. I frowned and looked forward, once again staring at Daenerys's back. Except, this time, instead of being escorted by a sellsword, I held the arm of one of Dorne's Princes. We stood directly behind Dany, with Tyrion and Missendei behind Hizdahr, creating a triangle of sorts.

Daario, who was just going wherever he pleased at that point, looked at Oberyn. "I don't believe anyone dared bet against the Red Viper, truthfully," he grinned wickedly. I listened in slight amusement as the two men spoke of their times in the Pit, and Oberyn's brief period as a Second Son. Somehow, it just hit me that the man beside me, that my cousin was pushing me toward unapologetically, was old enough to be my father. I repressed a shudder at the thought, and grimaced slightly. "I have confidence you will do well, My Lady, do not worry," Oberyn attempted at reassuring, but I had to bite back some irriation instead.

"How are you faring of late, Lord Prince?" I blinked up at him. It had only been less than a week since he woke, and while he recovered a lot of his strength quickly, there was still a lot he needed help with. Which is why I held his arm that day, to keep him from staggering or falling when the heat became to much, and we both knew it. "Fine," he grunted, his eyes turning hard. I sighed, feeling frustrated. Apparently, I thought resentfully, ruining other people's moods did not help with mine.

I didn't get to think on it for long, though, for we had finally entered the arena. It was quite impressive, I noted, the stone benches tiered for 15 rows of seats. My hands clenched to keep from shaking as I saw that every seat was filled, and men and women were cheering excitedly, their bloodlust pulsing throughout the vicinity. I heard Oberyn's sharp intake of breath, but my mind pushed it away as I fought from retching all over our shoes. My jaw clenched painfully in a way it hadn't in a very long time. I felt a rough, calloused hand rest on mine, and I blinked up at Oberyn again. "It's a wonder your teeth haven't fallen out from doing that," he murmured in my ear. I attempted to force my jaw to relax and only succeeded in almost biting my tongue off. He pried my fingers off of his arm and I flinched as I realized just how hard I was gripping him.

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and squeezed slightly. "There will be wine at the dais, My Lady," he reassured me. I noticed white spots at the edge of my vision, and the shouting and cheering from the crowd blurred into white noise. "Breathe, Raenara," I heard in a forceful tone, and I forced myself to breathe in. In through the nose, hold, out through the mouth, repeat, I told myself. I almost tripped getting up onto the dais, but Oberyn quickly caught me just as I stumbled. Daenerys turned back and gave me a worried look, but I shook my head. When we sat in our seats, myself and Oberyn on the right of the 'Royal couple's' seats and Tyrion and Missendei on their left, I grabbed one of the wine glasses proffered and drained it instantly. Ignoring Dany's disapproving look, I held out the empty glass. "It seems as if I'll need another," I rasped dryly. Just as the servant returned with it, I noticed Hizdahr had so kindly joined us. I eyed him warily as he sat.

I heard my escort chuckle in a low rumble. I ignored him, and smiled at the servant who passed me my newest glass of wine. How many does this make today alone? I wondered to myself, guilt racking my entire being. I should be with Nathyn, but he was back with Gilly again. I had to figure everything out, and soon. Keeping Oberyn away from Nathyn meant I had to split my time between them, and Daenerys had the Dornishman around nearly every corner I turned these days. I felt like I was neglecting my son, and that just wouldn't do. I turned and looked over at Barristan, but the knight wouldn't meet my eyes. He was doing that a lot, lately.

I repressed the urge to roll my eyes, instead looking directly forward and noticing there was now a man standing before us down below.

"Free citizens of Meereen," the man started in Meereenese Valyrian. I sighed, thinking of the long hours I had been putting in to learn the rough tongue of my cousin's people. "By the blessing of the Graces, and her majesty the Queen, welcome to the Great Games!"

I fought to flinch at the roar of the crowd, the sound threatening to bring back my nightmare of a migraine. I sighed and took a sip of my wine, listening idly as the man introduced the first men to fight. I gave Hazdahr a sidelong look when he told Dany to clap her hands. "If looks could kill, I'd imagine the man next to us would be dead many times over," Oberyn laughed, shaking his head. I watched Hizadahr startle, then look at Dany as if for help. But my cousin was engaged in her conversation with Daario. I turned to Oberyn, who was still smirking. "Was that really necessary?" I asked, attempting to be reprimanding, but amusement laid thick in my tone.

"It got you to smile," he pointed out. I blinked in surprise, words that were supposed to come out completely left my mind as I stared at the man before me. Instead, I decided to take a sip of wine and stare out at the men fighting. "Who do you think will win?" I asked in genuine curiosity. "Both men have their advantages and disadvantages, but I truly think the little man will win," Oberyn observed, an impish grin on his face. I hummed and leaned back, listening to Hizdahr and Daario's pissing contest on the other side of me.

I couldn't help the bubble of laughter when the smaller man's head came off, and Daario's face fell. Daenerys gave me an incredulous look, and I flushed, staring at my lap. I could hear them talking again, and I looked over at Tyrion. "Will Lord Tyrion be alright?" I asked Oberyn quietly. "Tyrion had been dealt a very shitty hand these past months, I believe he can make it through an afternoon," Oberyn resonded. I shook my head, watching the next men come through.

"What the Seven Hells is he doing?" I muttered, sighing when I saw Jorah Mormont walking into the Pit. "He is a man in love, doing whatever it is he can to see Queen Daenerys," Oberyn answered, eyes full of pity. "I imagine I would do the same, if it came down to it, for my paramour," he continued.

"What would you do if your husband said he never wanted to see you again? Ordered you away and if he told men to kill you if you ever entered his city?" He asked suddenly. I frowned, unsure of the answer, as the men started to fight. I held my breath as Jorah felled men, and then there was a hand on my knee. I looked down, realizing I had been shaking. "Ser Jorah is an excellent fighter, my Lady." Oberyn murmured. I glanced at him, then turned back to the fights.

Jorah was on his back, a sword to his throat. "Dany," I blurted in a pleading tone, glancing up at my cousin next to me. "Stop this, please," I continued, despite the inward cringing I felt towards myself. "She cannot," Hazdahr responded in a tense tone. "She can," Tyrion joined my plight, looking just as desperate as I felt. She just continued to stare at her former companion with a look I couldn't quite read.

I looked back at Jorah, and felt my heart clench as the men above him went to bring his sword down the knight. I almost collapsed in relief when a spear came out of the man's chest. I hadn't realized it, but I grabbed Oberyn's hand at some point during that. When I looked up, Daenerys was staring down with something gleaming in her eyes. I turned back to the fight and saw Jorah struggling. I forced myself to breathe as the man that I owed my life to fought for his own. And suddenly, it was over. The crowd's anger was palpable as they booed the results. I watched as Jorah stared at Daenerys, concern marring the victory he should have felt. Before I could look around, he had grabbed the spear from the man he just killed, and hurled it through the air.

I watched as Daario covered Dany's body with his own to get her out of the way, and I followed the spears path, my breath leaving my mouth in a scream as it landed in the chest of a Harpy, blood spraying everywhere. I stood looked around the arena in horror, seeing gold masks everywhere.

"Protect your Queen!" Daario cried, though his voice sounded far away to my ears.

All I could hear was the screams of the smallfolk and nobles around us as they were slaughtered like sheep. I realized, with the distance of shock, that this was exactly like slaughtering sheep. We were all herded here with that one purpose by the Harpy's. They killed everyone with equal fervor; peasant, former slaver, Unsullied, it didn't matter. The Harpoy's were slitting their throats, stabbing them in the belly, I think I saw a few abandon weapons altogether and snap necks. I fought a shiver at the thought of skilled warriors being in their ranks, it went against our thoughts of the Sons of the Harpy being made of only former Masters. I clung to my skirts as the massacre happening in that moment started blurring with others I witnessed. Were those gold masks or the red cloaks? I shut my eyes and fought to stay in the moment.

I don't know how long I stood there, fighting internally, but I was suddenly ripped away as an arm wrapped itself around my waist and pulled me away. I looked around and saw Dany being helped down off of the dais. I looked up at Oberyn and his face was an expression I never hoped to see in anyone's face again. "Don't do that," I snapped at him as he helped me steady on my feet when we made it down. He looked at me in frustration, "Save your life?" he demanded.

"Look ready to die," I shook my head as I looked around for Daenerys. She was running to the middle of the pit, like an idiot, I thought with a grimace. I looked around some more, and saw an Unsullied standing near one of the smoking pots. "Where are you going?" Oberyn called after me while I ran over. "Why didn't you do it already?" I screamed at the Unsullied, ignoring him. The young boy, one of the ones who hadn't yet earned his helmet, looked at me with nervousness. "I didn't get the order-"

"I think the people around us dying was a good enough order, go away now," I rolled my eyes impatiently at him. I barely noticed him run away as I looked around and saw the firewood tucked away where it was supposed to be. "What are you doing?" Oberyn yelled at me, and I fought the flinch at his tone. I threw the wood in, looking around nervously. I let out a breath as I heard the familiar whispers start in my ear, and looked at Oberyn, and then it hit me that he was there when he shouldn't be. "Go!" I screamed at him. "Are you fucking mad?" He shot back. I ignored him, it was his fucking funeral then. I pushed the pot over, watching as the flames went to die. No, you idiots. I shook my head at it. They flared up higher than my head, and I struggled to keep them at that size. I looked at Oberyn, where he stood with wide eyes at me, and I felt irritation run through me instantly. The flames shot higher, and I grabbed his hand, running to where Dany stood surrounded by Second Sons and Unsullied.

I could hear the whispers raise to a conversational voice level, as they followed us at our heels, and creeped outwards. It exhausted my entire body to keep it from rampaging the entire arena, the voices fighting me every moment and giving me a headache, and I fell into Daenerys as soon as she was close enough. She helped me stay upright, and I looked around. The flames raged on like a giant serpant, roughly the same length of Viserion last I saw him. It had taken out a sizeable amount of Harpy's, but as my exhastion grew, it lost size. I struggled, then had to content with bringing it into a tight circle around us. As it rushed forward, I heard screams of Harpy's whose robes caught.

The last thing I heard was a dragon's roar, before collapsing onto the sand.