A Doe in a Lion's Den
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
I've been on a roll of typing, so chapter 37 will come very soon. Maybe the same day...
Chapter 36: The Red Viper
Willas POV
Willas went to see his grandmother in private. He sat across the Queen of Thrones as she read the letter. The woman scowled, failing to mask her disgust. The last few days have been rough after his wife read the letter. Elain remained in their chambers, hiding from the betrayal of blood that if she were to go outside, she might attack her brother. Reading the document that proved King Joffrey of House Baratheon mercenaries to either assault, rape, and/or kill her.
When he read that letter, it enraged him that someone would do such a thing to their own sister. Let alone; he was annoyed that one of his Thorn addressed the letter to Elain instead to him. Similar to Elain's Stags and Varys little birds, Willas has created a group of men that he calls Thorns. Trained men in the art of espionage, if he needed something they would get it in a discrete context. No questions asked. That is how Tyrell's know so much of their friends, allies, and enemies.
Lady Olenna read the letter; she set it down with a frown, "A monster indeed."
"Are you sure you want to marry Margaery off to the king?" Willas asked.
"No, do you think I let your sister marry that beast." Lady Olenna asked. "A friend and I will take care of it. We'll have better control over Tommen than Joffrey. Let alone you married to Elain. The throne is ours either way. Who knows, maybe one day you'll be king."
Willas shook his head. He did not want to be king. All he wanted was a wife who was beautiful, bright and accepting. He recalled Renly talking about Princess Elain when he visited the Reach. It caught his curiosity, a maiden who loves to read, rides, and does archery. A woman who looks past the imperfections and focus on brains over bronze.
"Just need to pick the right poison." Lady Olenna murmured.
"I have one in mind," Willas offered.
"Oh, and what's it called?" his grandmother asked.
"It's called the strangler," he answered. "It would give the impression that he is choking. Similar to those who deal with asphyxiation from a severe allergic reaction. Throat closes up, and the individual can no longer breathe."
Lady Olenna thought about it. A poison that makes it seem so natural. Make it appear the king ate something he was allergic to or choking on pigeon pie and die. Appears natural, very convincing.
"How long does it last?"
"Depends on the individual constitution," Willas answered. "It could happen in minutes or hours."
"But death is certain," Olenna confirmed, which Willas nodded. "Good."
Willas nodded, he didn't tell the rest of the side effects to his grandmother. A man of honor from a house that is about family, and returning the favor to those who harm his family. Elain wanted Joffrey to feel the same pain she experienced. He may not be able to have men come beat and rape the king, but the poison he recommended will take control out of his greedy hands, feeling the same pain of being strangled and such.
"Any news on grandbabies yet?" Olenna asked, changing the subject.
"Grandmother, it's only been two weeks," Willas replied.
"The sooner we have a royal baby; our claim is secure." Lady Olenna reminded. "And no one will take that away from us."
The heir of Highgarden shook his head. He too wanted children, but not in the same pretense as his father and grandmother. He had lived a long life with adventure, traveling, and research, and now it was time to settle down.
A little bird knocked on the door and came in, "Forgive me."
"What is it?" Lady Olenna asked.
"I bring a letter from Dorne for Lord Willas," the girl answered. She handed to scroll to Willas, who thanked the woman. He saw the Dorne wax seal and opened to read the parchment.
"What does it say?" Olenna asked curiously.
"Prince Doran won't be able to attend the royal wedding it seems. So Prince Oberyn will be attending instead."
"There, the Red Viper will hold off our suspicions if anything goes wrong," Olenna chirped.
Willas nodded. It was Prince Oberyn who taught him about poisons. He knows his friend hated the Lannisters, having a vendetta since the Mountain killed Elia Martell and her children. Also, the Lannisters won't jump into the accusations, when they are in a city filled with liars and thieves, where the poison is passed around like wine.
The heir of Highgarden remembered sending a letter to Prince Oberyn, an invitation to his wedding. However, the Red Viper was a bit occupied but sends his regards. Willas took no offense, knowing his friend can get distracted and commits to the better yet his Sand Snakes and Ellaria. Being wedded to Elain, made him realize the Baratheons and Martells were very distant cousins, through their ancestors who were the Targaeryns. He recalls those with dragons blood are not affected by the fire...in some degree. Seeing Oberyn waving his hand over candle flames and never flinched or pull back. Made the young lord curious if his wife had that ability.
Thinking of his friend, he realizes he should introduce Elain to Oberyn and pray the two would get along. Willas imagine the Prince's insults to her Lannister family, saying vulgar things to receive the Princess uncomfortable reaction, and challenge her philosophy of "If you were there..." but he could see them getting along.
.o0o.
Elain's POV
The offical Wedding was in a fortnight. Many houses were arriving, all from the Crownlands, The Westerlands, The Reach, The Riverlands, and Dorne. The North was recovering from the war, but Roose Bolton had sent a wedding gift. The Vale of Arryn also sends their regards, since Lord Baelish was still working on the peaceful arrangement of getting Lady Lysa out of isolation although they send their regards.
Standing by the gates of the city, I joined Lord Tyrion and Willas in greeting the embassy of Dorne. Deep down, I wanted to confront Tyrion and demanded why he kept the letter a secret. Why he stopped investigating my assault. However that would not be appropriate at the time.
Anyway, Ser Bronn accompanied us, who sat on a tree stump cleaning his fingernails with a knife, Podrick holding the royal banner, Ser Lamar holding the Tyrell banner, and Ser Wensington keeping guard. The City Watch also attended, in escorting the Lords of Dorne to the Red Keep and their chambers.
The roads were filled with small folks traveling their way. Some were selling produce, supplies, or making way to the trade market. One vendor came over offering fresh apples. Being generous to the young man, I bought an apple along with a tip. The boy appreciated it and went his merry way. Willas held an amused smirk, offering a dagger to cut the fruit in half. I smiled, accepting the offer. The past couple of weeks was a struggle after receiving the letter. The truth and the episode set our intimacy back a week, but his patience earned my physical trust. It amazes me in the husband I have who respects my well being, and not forces himself on me. Well, I must confess, he does say things behind closed doors that causes me to blush.
"How many Dornishmen does it take to fuck a goat?" Bronn asked.
"Please don't," Tyrion replied.
I and a few chuckled.
"Seems to me the smart place to meet travelers is in a tavern," Bronn suggested. "That way, one party is late, the other party can drink some ale inside."
"This is the Prince of Dorne we're waiting for, not one of your sellsword friends," Tyrion reminded.
"If he's so damned important, how come they sent you to meet him?" Bronn asked.
"You forget I am here," I chirped.
"There's bad blood between the Martells of Dorne and the Lannisters of Casterly Rock," Tyrion explained. "Has been for years."
"And just in case the Martells of Dorne are looking to spill Lannister blood, it may as well be yours, eh," Bronn said. "And then have the princess greet them afterward."
"No need for cynicism," Tyrion muttered. "I happen to be an accomplished diplomat."
"Was it diplomacy at the Eyrie?" I asked.
Bronn laughed, gulping his canteen. Tyrion shook his head. Not something to have a conversation about. Looking up ahead, a mass of gold and amber made way.
"Ah, here we are," Tyrion said, clapping his hand to get the gold cloaks assembled. "Can you read the sigils?"
Bronn leaned forward squinting his eyes, "Yellow balls?"
"Wild lemons on a purple field, House Dalt of Lemonwood," Podrick announced. "A vulture grasping a baby in its talons, House of Blackmont. A crowned skull, the Manwoodys of Kingsgrave."
"The young man knows his Dornish houses," Willas complimented, quite impressed.
"I need a sigil," Bronn muttered, standing up.
"And House Martell, a red sun pierced by a spear," Tyrion pointed.
Podrick looked forward, although neither of us could see the sigil of House Martell. One of the oldest houses of the Rhoynar.
"I don't see it, my lord," Podrick said.
The company came close, till stopping their horses in front of us. A group of men, worn and tired from their three-week journey. I stepped forward and gave a curtsey to them as a means of respect.
"Greetings, my lords. His royal majesty King Joffrey welcomes you in his name. My Lord Grandfather, the King's Hand, sends his greetings as well. I am Princess Elain Tyrell of the House Baratheon." I greeted.
The men analyzed me, the one in front, the lord of House Dalt, spoke, " Fair greetings, your highness. Seven blessings of your marriage."
"Many thanks, my lord," Willas said.
Tyrion stepped forwards, still noticing one house was missing, "Forgive me. I don't see Prince Doran in your company. "
"The prince's health forces him to remain at Sunspear," Lord Dalt explained. "He sends his brother, Prince Oberyn, to attend the royal wedding."
Tyrion tensed, as an uncomfortable atmosphere engrossed the area.
"The king will be delighted to enjoy the company of a warrior as renowned as Prince Oberyn," I said, to break the tension.
"Will he?" Lord Dalt replied amused.
"Where is Prince Oberyn?" Tyrion asked.
"Arrived before dawn," Lord Dalt answered. "Not a man for welcome parties."
"My lords, you must be wary from your long journey," I spoke, and waved my hand to the gold cloaks. "These fine men from the City Watch will escort you to your quarters in the Red Keep. May you rest and enjoy your stay."
"Much appreciated, your highness," Lord Dalt said in gratitude.
We stepped aside and let the Dornish company make do towards the castle. Tyrion almost stumbled back, a bit flustered in how the welcome party went. It's clear that the Dornish still hold their grudge against the Lannisters, not just the Martells.
"Some accomplished diplomacy that was," Bronn noted. "Now where?"
"We must find Prince Oberyn before he kills somebody, or several somebodies," Tyrion said, leading the way back to the city.
"How do you plan on finding a single Dornishman in a city this big?" Bronn asked.
"You're famous for fucking half of Westeros. You just arrived at the Capital after two weeks of bad road. Where would you go?" Tyrion hypothetically asked.
"I'd probably go to sleep, but I'm getting old," Bronn answered.
"I recommend the exquisite brothel," Willas suggested. "My friend has an appetite."
Tyrion nodded, having an idea where the most luxurious brothel would be. We mounted our horses and made way into the city. A brothel is no place for a princess, so taking my silk shawl, I wrapped it around my head to give an illusion of a hood. Even though my attire has changed, some lords could recognize me. Tyrion suggested I return to the Keep, except Willas disagreed, wanting to introduce me to his friend.
.o0o.
It wasn't long when we arrived at one of Littlefinger's establishment. Once dismounting our horses, we enter through the back door where a servant escorted us to Prince Oberyn. The establishment seemed to be empty, as a means of customers. I wonder if the Red Viper rented the building during his stay.
We heard an argument, entering one of the rooms to see two Lannister soldiers, one holding his sword, and the other pinned to the table with a dagger through his wrist.
"Prince Oberyn, forgive the intrusion. We heard there might be-" Tyrion started.
Obseryn removed the dagger, causing the soldier to scream in pain. Blood was squirting out.
"Trouble." Tyrion finished.
The second Lannister soldier rushed to his comrade and led him out. No doubt was taking him to a healer to save his hand. A woman in orange gown walked over to the man I assume was Prince Oberyn, who was cleaning his blade.
"Apologies, my love," Prince Oberyn said.
The woman replied by embracing him, searing a passionate kiss. We stood there, watching them kissing and groping away. Seeing how much they love each other. I turned my head to Willas who held a delightful smirked.
"We're here to welcome you to the capital," Tyrion spoke out, to gain their attention.
The two lovers continue to kiss for a moment, then pull their faces apart slightly. Their arms still wrapped around one another.
"Ellaria Sand, my paramour," Prince Oberyn introduced.
The prince's paramour held an attractive and eye-catching, with an exotic, sensual flair. He skins a unique olive tone, long wavy hair, and piercing dark eyes. Meanwhile, the Prince of Dorne was tall, slender,and fit; and has a lined and saturnine face with thin eyebrows, black eyes, and a sharp nose. His hair is lustrous and black with only a few silver streaks and recedes from his brow into a widow's peak while a beard grows along with his jaw.
Prince Oberyn faced us, continuing his introduction, "The King's own Uncle Imp. Tyrion, son of Tywin Lannister. And...ah, Willas, tis good to see you, my friend."
"Willas," Ellaria sang, as she came over to my husband giving a hug and a kiss on his cheek. "Does your Father still call me the Serpents Whore."
"I'm afraid so," Willas said. "He still has not forgiven the tourney incident."
Ellaria laughed and turned her eyes on me. "And who is this timid little girl?"
I removed the shaw and revealed my face. Prince Oberyn came over and hugged his lover from behind, "Ah, Princess Elain. Daughter of the Late King Robert."
"Your wife," Ellaria murmured to Willas.
Willas wrapped his arm around me. "Yes."
"She seems a bit timid," Ellaria cooed.
"You be amaze," Willas smirked.
I scoffed, smacking Willas in the chest receiving a laugh from all three.
"If there's anything I can do to make your stay at King's Landing . . ." Tyrion spoke, inserting himself into the conversation.
Oberyn turned his glance to the two men and noticed Bronn. "What are you? His hired killer?"
"It started that way, aye," Bronn replied. "Now I'm a knight."
"How did that come to pass?" Oberyn asked.
Bronn shrugged, "Killed the right people."
Prince Oberyn gazed at Bronn with an analyzing look, till bursting out a deep laugh. Bronn and Tyrion gave a nervous laugh.
"We'll need a few more girls," Oberyn told the procurer of the establishment. I then paused looking at the men. "Girls, yes?"
Bronn nodded, Willas and Tyrion shook their heads.
This surprised Oberyn,"You don't partake?"
"Doubt my wife would approve," Willas said.
"I partook. Now I'm married." Tyrion answered. "Prince Oberyn, a word in private?"
Ellaria who was kissing his neck, pouted, stepping away from her lover. Yet kept her hand around his side, murmuring, "Don't take to long." then nipped his ear.
Prince Oberyn and Lord Tyrion went to leave the brothel, leaving Bronn, Willas, and I in the room. Bronn excused himself, stating he was going to see a friend. I watched him leave, then stopped starting at the producer. My eyes widen for I recognized him from anywhere. He was one of Loras's squires. He aided Ser Loras during a friendly duel between the Knight of the Flowers and Lord Dickon. The blonde hair man realized this and excused himself quickly.
"What was that about?" Willas asked.
"He's one of Lord Baelish's spies," I answered. "No doubt spied on your brother and told Littlefinger of your family's match to Sansa."
Willas scowled, "I see."
"Willas, you and your wife come sit," Ellaria murmured, gesturing to a plush lounge.
Being respectful we sat down. Although, I was a bit uncomfortable about the room and its usage. If not...the murals of naked women all around. Ellaria laid on the lounge across from his. Her dress slipping to show my skin, revealing her...bralette?
"How are your children?" Willas asked.
"My girls are growing lovely every day," Ellaria answered. "Wish to see their uncle again. You must come visit Dorne soon."
"I will consider it," Willas said.
Ellaria's eyes lingered on me. "Have you ever met a Sand before?"
"I have," I replied. "I visited Dorne when I young. Myra was her name, she was my guide."
"Ah, so you met one of my ten thousand brothers and sisters," She murmured.
"Bastards are born of passion, aren't they?" Prince Oberyn said, entering the room. He sat down next to Ellaria rubbing her back. "We don't despise them in Dorne."
"I wish the same notion could be said in all the kingdoms," I said. "I have...had twenty half brothers and sisters."
"Oh?" Ellaria raised a brow. "Where are they now?"
"They sadly passed away," I said.
I did nnot mention Gendry and Barra. Gendry's whereabouts are unknown. He could be at the Wall as we speak taking the Black. Barra, is still in the borders of the Stormlands and the Crown Lands, under a Stag's protection with her mother.
"Ordered on Lord Janos Slynts under King Joffrey's command" Oberyn inserted. "People everywhere have their differences. In some places, the highborn frown upon those of low birth. In other places, the rape and murder of women and children are considered distasteful. What a fortunate thing for you, Princess Elain, that your sister Myrcella has been sent to live in the latter of the sort of place."
Is he threatening my sister? I thought.
"How is my sister?" I asked.
"She is doing well. Last I saw her; she was swimming with two of my girls in the water gardens." Prince Oberyn answered, with a small smile. "Hmm, laughing in the sun."
"I'm glad to hear," I said.
"So, you two are married?" Oberyn pointed out. "Willas finally caught the princess."
Willas gave a huff of a laugh, "Better than your nephew."
Oberyn laughed as well.
"Boy's behave," Ellaria murmured, "Although she is a child."
"I'm Nineteen," I corrected.
Ellaria laughed, "Still a child."
I blushed, feeling as if I was a child being talked down. I hardly knew of Prince Oberyn other than his reputation. At the time I visited Dorne he was traveling Essos. And now I am having a conversation...intimidated by their presence. They hold so much confidence in themselves.
"Be nice," Willas said, wrapping an arm around me. "She is my wife."
"Forgive us," Prince Oberyn sighed. "We always jest those who are not us. Remember when you came to Dorne, my friend."
"And the room filled with naked women," Willas muttered.
"You were red as a tomato," Ellaria snicked.
I had a vision of a younger Willas walking into a chamber and feel like he has died and gone to one of the seven heavens. No doubt it would be any man's dream to see that. But hearing that my husband was embarrassed at such a display made me chuckle a little.
Our stay was mainly listening to Oberyn and Willas going over their friendship and their mini adventures. Ellaria would inject herself into the conversation correcting of any lies they were telling. I mainly sat there and listen, not sure how to join the conversation with the bad blood between the Lannisters and the Martells. Let alone, observing how Oberyn would rub his paramour's back, petting her expose skin while Ellaria was kissing his neck and combing her fingers through his curls. Chemistry of pure passion and love.
By dusk did we leave the brothel, returning to the Keep, mounting our houses we road off.
"My apologies, my dear," Willas said. "I didn't consider how persistent they would be."
"There is bad blood between our families," I reminded. "Not that I would blame him."
"Give them time," Willas said. "They will like you, once they get to know you."
"I hope so," I said. "I could see they care for each other deeply."
"They love each other," Willas agreed.
Which is rare, I thought.
When we return to our chambers, I sat down on the bed, feeling exhausted. The past few weeks I haven't been feeling like myself. Lately, I have been dealing with fatigue and mild headaches. I have met with Qyburn, the once maester who accompany Ser Jaime back to Kings Landing. He has was precisely professional on his work, better than Grand Maester Pycelle: asking detail questions and doing a test that revolves limited amount of touching. He considers it to be of stress but recommends I see him in a week or if there is no sign of Moonblood. However...I haven't bled since the week before my wedding. Willas and I have been married for almost five weeks now. My journal calculation states I'm nearly two weeks late. I want to wait another week or so to be sure.
Many women tell their husbands they are pregnant and a week later they flower. Willas stated he wants a child, so I don't want to get his hopes up and have the same outcome of false promises. Although, he is an attentive man who has noticed some changes. Especially when we have sex and the sensitivity of my breast.
I also want to keep the possible pregnancy a secret. There are a handful of people who would take advantage of it. I want to be out of King's Landing before word spread. Not knowing the possibilities Joffrey would do.
"Are you all right, my dear?" Willas asked.
"Perfectly fine, just a long day," I answered.
Willas nodded as he sat down on the bed and removed his brace. He started rubbing his knee to alleviate the discomfort. I came over and instructed to place his leg over my lap. He gave a soft chuckle and complied, letting me have the opportunity to massage his cripple leg. His right leg was not the definition of a cripple. The Maester who treated him at the tourney and Highgarden did an excellent job in preventing disfigurement during his recovery. Although, his right leg was slightly thinner than his left. A long scar up his calf and the bone easily felt.
And yet my husband is still strong.
So what do you think?
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