A/N: And we're back, right on schedule. This has been a very Game of Thrones week for me, considering the beginning of the long, Game of Thrones drought. I've actually started a Season 8 fic called Dream of Spring, in which I try to finish the story myself. Feel free to check it out.

For now, let's get on with this fic, as the wedding draws near and Arya spends more time with the vengeful Oberyn.

Chapter 35: Lovers of Justice

Over the next several days of wedding preparation, Arya strove to avoid all of the festivities in favor of sparring with various opponents. Of course, training Jaime continued to occupy much of her time, which she did not mind. But sparring with Oberyn, on the other hand, that presented a real challenge.

He had visited her secret spot the day after they spoke, his spear in hand, claiming he needed to practice in order to keep his skills sharp. He could not allow an event such as a wedding to dull them. Arya agreed, sitting up on the ledge and bidding him train away.

He was a master of the spear, twirling it around his body with exceptional grace and speed. He struck like a viper: still at one moment and thrusting his spear out the next. Watching him, Arya believed he could take someone like the Mountain. The Mountain had strength and surprising speed for his size, but he would never catch someone like Oberyn.

She also recognized several of his techniques in the lessons Lantos had taught her. He always emphasized agility and speed over strength.

"You will never have much strength, girl. Your size does not permit it. So you must simply become so fast that the strong ones cannot catch you."

Oberyn had clearly mastered that skill. He was not especially tall or strong, but he was quicker than almost any knight she had ever seen.

"I never trained much with a spear," she commented. "It seems like a versatile weapon."

"It is. And often underestimated by most Westeros knights," Oberyn pulled back from a lunge, holding the shaft of his weapon in both hands. Not too tight or too loose. Just like Lantos had taught her with her knives. "They use a lance on horseback but on the ground they prefer the broad sword. It is not a very graceful weapon." He nodded at Arya. "But you understand that."

"Yes." She drew her twin blades. "I prefer my long knives. They're much more elegant and better suited to someone of my size."

"There are many in Dorn who use the same sort of weapons," Oberyn said. He held out his hand. "May I?"

Arya nodded, handing over the blades. She had a dagger easily available if he tried to use them against her. Not that she believed he would, but she suspected everyone in King's Landing of some murderous intent.

Oberyn spun the blades in his hands with the practice of one who had handled long blades before. Then he offered them back to her, hilt first. "They're well balanced and beautiful. I'm surprised the Lannisters have let you keep them."

"Jaime kept them for me until he deemed it safe to return them." Arya took the blades back. "He knows I wouldn't dispatch my enemies with my choice blades. Too obvious."

Oberyn raised an eyebrow. "So, your husband is aware of your vengeful intent?"

"Yes. I wasn't exactly subtle about it in the beginning," Arya said.

Oberyn rubbed his fingers together. "And allows you to wander around freely, despite this?"

Arya shrugged. "I have not tried to understand his reasoning. I won't argue with it."

"He must have strong feelings for you."

Arya blinked hard. "What?"

Oberyn smirked. "If a man knows a woman is dangerous and lets her be without trying to keep her caged...then he truly cares for her."

Arya rubbed her neck which felt a bit hot. "You would probably know more about the subject than I, Prince Oberyn." She hopped off the wall. "So...as long as you are practicing here, perhaps we could spar together?"

She desperately wanted to change the subject off of Jaime. If she wanted Oberyn as her ally she did not want him to know that she was sympathetic to even one of the Lannisters.

"As you please," Oberyn said, raising his spear. "I will try not to prick you."

Arya very much enjoyed sparring with Oberyn. It gave her the same rush she used to get sparring with Jaime. Her husband didn't provide much of a challenge since losing his hand and she always longed for a fight that got her blood pumping.

Jaime, on the other hand, had some concerns.

"Does it occur to you that, as a Lannister, you shouldn't spar with a man who hates Lannisters?" he asked one day.

"I married into the family. I wasn't born with that name and I had nothing to do with his sister's murder," Arya said.

"And what if he uses you to get revenge?" Jaime asked.

"On who? You?" Arya raised an eyebrow. "Near as I can tell he doesn't harbor any specific grudges against you. You killed the Mad King, not his sister. You weren't involved in that plot." She shrugged. "He hates your father and he hates the Mountain more than anyone. Though yes, he generally dislikes the Lannister name."

Jaime exhaled. "You're always far to blasé about possible dangers, my lady. Sparring with a dangerous man like Oberyn in order to further your own revenge plot when a wedding is just around the corner should not be taken lightly." He wrapped the stump of his hand. It was healing quite nicely. "On top of that, Oberyn is known for his frequent sexual conquests. They don't really discourage that sort of thing in Dorne."

Arya laughed. "Do you think Oberyn is trying to seduce me? Have you seen his paramour? She's one of the most gorgeous women alive."

"Yes, and I hear that they often add other people to the mix," Jaime said.

Arya raised an eyebrow. "I hate to bring this up, but can you really criticize another man's odd sexual habits?"

Jaime sighed deeply. "All right, perhaps not. But I can be worried for my wife, can I not?"

Arya stared at him. "Are you... jealous, Jaime?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Jaime said.

"You are. You're jealous," Arya said. "I assure you, there's no need. I'm not going to run off with Oberyn because I have many things yet to do here. And may I remind you, he wouldn't court someone like me. I'm not much of a lady and I look awful in a dress."

"In Dorne, women sometimes dress as men and fight alongside them. And since Oberyn has been known to like men as well..." Jaime waved his hand as he trailed off. "You see why your lack of ladylike qualities would not deter him."

"My lack of general allure might," Arya said. She stood and walked over to him. "My lord, I promise, Oberyn is not trying to seduce me. And if he does try to sweep me away from you, feel free to fight him." She tapped a finger to his chest. "Though I don't recommend that in your current state. He's very good with a spear and you are only mildly competent with your left hand. But with practice-"

Jaime cut her off, kissing her deeply. Arya gasped out as he pulled her flush against his body, but she quickly gained her bearings, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck.

The kiss broke and she laughed once.

"You get quite aggressive when you're jealous, my lord."

"I told you, I'm not jealous," Jaime replied, kissing her again.

Arya didn't believe him but her mouth was too occupied for the next hour to argue.

Despite Jaime's concerns, she continued to see Oberyn often, the gardens or at her secret place along the cliff side. Sometimes, Ellaria Sand walked with them. She smiled often at Arya, and sometimes slipped flowers into her hair as she said their names.

"Blue is your color," she said. "A shame they dress you in gold and red."

"You look beautiful in gold," Arya said. "But I'm afraid, being from the North, we don't usually dress in warm colors. It doesn't suit me."

"Oberyn tells me you prefer not to wear a dress at all," Ellaria said. "You are more comfortable in a man's clothes."

"They're easier to fight in," Arya said.

Ellaria grinned and looked at Oberyn. "I like this girl. She is fierce like you said. A little wolf."

"I'm supposed to be a lion now," Arya said.

"And yet I only see a wolf. Small, but strong." Ellaria touched her cheek.

Oberyn smiled, looping his arm around Ellaria. "Be careful, Lady Arya. My lover may want to keep you."

Arya knew they were mostly speaking in jest so she smiled and played along. She saw the types of people they kept company with and she did not match them for beauty. She did not spend time with Oberyn with romantic ideals in mind. Vengeance was ever on her brain.

Oberyn was the same as her in many ways. Though they came from opposite sides of the country, they did have a lot in common. Namely, they cared deeply for their families and wanted to see them avenged.

"The Lannister's killed my mother and brother at the red wedding," Arya said. "I only ever heard rumors about it as Nim, before I got my memory back. I regret that I did not weep for them for so long. I heard their names like they were strangers."

"I heard of the Red Wedding," Oberyn said. "It was a terrible crime." He sat beside her on the stones. "Do you remember much about your brother?"

"Yes," Arya said. "He was a strong and capable commander. People in the North loved him. And they were always comparing him to my other brother Jon. He's the bastard of the family." She shook her head. "But he was always my favorite, even if others ignored him."

"Ah yes. I forget that in the rest of Westeros, bastards are treated poorly. He would not have the same experience in Dorne," Oberyn said. "Did he die as well?"

"I don't know. He took the Black at the Wall. He could have died. I may never know. I don't want to risk sending a raven to ask. If I found out he's dead...then all of my family will be gone." Arya looked up at him. "What was your sister like?"

"Fierce and kind all at once," Oberyn said with a sad smile. "She was not a great beauty in Dorne but everyone loved her for her heart. I adored her. This place-these people-did not deserve her." He looked down at his clenched fist. He spoke eloquently, but when angry, Arya could hear the tightness of his voice. Like he was barely restraining a flood of rage. "Rhaegar Targaryan dishonored her when he kidnapped your Aunt and started a war. If he was not dead I would come for his head myself. He left her defenseless when the Mountain came."

"I'm sorry," Arya said, because she could not think of anything better to say.

"You played no part in it, little wolf," Oberyn said. He had started calling her that after Ellaria mentioned it. Arya did not mind the title. It made her feel more like a Stark when she had been fading into the Lannister name for so long.

"That doesn't mean I'm not sorry it happened," Arya murmured. "I know what it feels like to lose siblings. To lose a sister. Mine was beheaded right in front of me. Later, when I had regained my memories, Joffery tried to serve her head to me at dinner." Her fists clenched. "If I could murder that boy without dying, I would. Without a second thought."

"So he is as awful as they say," Oberyn said.

"Worse," Arya said.

"Well, there are ways to make one suffer with poison," Oberyn said. "Many poisons effects are drawn out over a longer period of time to mimic sickness."

"I have killed one with poison already," Arya said. "The effects of that poison are known now. I won't get away with it a second time. The fact is, if Joffery dies of anything I will be suspect. Even if he trips down a flight of stairs and hits his head, Cersei will think I pushed him. I've made too many foolish threats and attempts on his life already." She shook her head. "If someone else wanted to kill him, they could easily get away with it. They'd just have to frame me."

"That is good to know for my future plans," Oberyn said with a smirk. Arya eyed him and he waved his hand. "A joke, Lady Arya. My anger is not directed at Joffery. While I am sure he is wretched, he played no part in the murder of my sister. That blame belongs to the Mountain and the one who gave the order."

"It does," Arya agreed.

"Of course, if someone did frame you for Joffery's murder, we could always sweep you away to Dorne under cover of darkness," Oberyn said. "No one need know."

"You'd sweep a lady of the court away?" Arya raised an eyebrow. "What would your lover think?"

"My paramour and I have been known to take other lovers from time to time," Oberyn said. "In Dorne, we do not frown upon passion."

"I'm not sure I live up to the standards of your usual lovers." Arya hopped off the stones, swiping his spear of the rocks. He had taught her a few things with the weapon and she spun it around in her hands now, practicing. "Though I guess that makes for a good cover story. No one would believe you swept me away."

Oberyn tilted his head to the side. "Why do you say that, my lady?"

Arya gave him a look. "You do not need to flatter me. I never was the pretty one of the house, Prince Oberyn, or a proper lady. That was my sister. She was the tall, red haired beauty. People always mistook me for a boy which helped when I disguised myself as one later. I didn't mind. I don't need to be beautiful to survive."

"In Dorne there are all sorts of beauties." Oberyn stepped toward her. "I know many women who wear masculine clothes and fight like men but are still considered beautiful. It really is a matter of preference I suppose. And people in the capitol have such narrow preferences."

"Lucky me. I can move in the shadows that way." Arya swung the spear in another wide arc and Oberyn caught it with a laugh.

"Unless people with the right preferences come along." He looked down at her. "Ellaria likes you. She always likes girls who are not timid. She is attracted to fierceness."

For some reason, nerves sparked in Arya's chest. "A beautiful woman like her could do much better."

"And what if she disagrees on that?" Oberyn asked, walking his hands up the length of his spear, drawing closer to Arya. "What if we both do? Would you run off to Dorne then?"

Arya felt short of breath, hardly daring to believe her current situation. "Are we...speaking hypothetically?"

"That depends on you, little wolf," Oberyn said, leaning down and capturing her lips with his.

Until Jaime, Arya had been a stranger to physical affection, and sometimes it still bewildered her. She knew many ladies of the court had affairs behind closed doors. She had never seen that option for herself until Oberyn kissed her.

He moved like a man with experience, looping his arm around her back and pulling her close. For a moment, Arya entertained the idea of letting him continue. Not just because she needed him as an ally but because it felt good.

Then she remembered Jaime.

She placed her hands against Oberyn's chest and parted their lips. "I'm sorry."

"Ah," Oberyn smiled. "So you do love your husband then. I wondered."

Arya's eyes widened and she looked up at him. "I'm not sure...that's the right word."

"It is," Oberyn said. "I've been observing you for several days now. I see how your strategic mind works. If you hated him, you would not hesitate here. You would kiss me knowing you could use this to drive barbs into his heart and pride. You would use any opportunity to torment him if you hated him like you hated the rest of his family." He released her and stepped back, taking his spear with him. "But you don't."

Arya looked down at her hands. Her face felt unusually hot. "It's complicated."

"If your affection was based on appearance alone, I would not say it was complicated. I have seen Jaime Lannister with my own eyes. He was always quite pretty," Oberyn said. "But obviously your affection for him is not so shallow."

"It is not," Arya said. She looked up at Oberyn. "You...flatter me with your offer. If I ever land in a tight spot, perhaps I'll consider it."

Oberyn grinned. "You are not used to fending off suitors are you?"

"I think that's fairly obvious," Arya said.

"It's a shame," Oberyn said. "There are few women like you in the capitol, Lady Arya. Jaime Lannister is a fortunate man."

Arya smiled. "You're one of the few who might say that, but thank you."

They returned to sparring after that. And Oberyn did not try to kiss her again.

Later that day when she returned to her room, she found Jaime practicing strengthening his left hand. He looked up at her when she entered. "Make any new plots today?"

She didn't answer. She closed the gap between them, kissing him deeply. He accepted her into his arms without protest.

So you do love your husband?

Did she? She supposed that was a word for it. Her fate was entwined now with Jaime Lannister and she could not bear the thought of hurting him.

Perhaps that was something like love.

A/N: I love playing with the character dynamics of characters who never met in the canon. And I do love Prince Oberyn and Ellaria pre-the poorly written Dorne arc of the show.

Hope you enjoyed. Review, favorite and all of that good stuff. Until next week, happy reading!