A/N: You owe it to ZabuzasGirl for the update, here is chapter thirty-seven! In this one, there is a marriage and someone has a gift for Lia. The reviews are great to read, you're all so eager - it's great!

Please read and review.

Two Can Play at That Game

Catelyn enjoyed the freedom she had, especially with Sansa and she'd come to find herself strangely fond of Oberyn's daughter, Obara. She didn't know what to make of the girl when she first met her; the girl had been lively and a bit of a handful but she soon warmed to her company, even Sansa liked her.

She decided to take the girls to the Sept that morning, thinking they'd appreciate the comfort of the gods, however Obara seemed sheepish at the idea. She was a prickly young woman who had a quick and violent temper, and didn't hesitate to voice her opinions.

"Do you keep the New?" Catelyn questioned as they entered the Sept, Sansa leading them down the stairs.

Obara shrugged, "I don't feel the need to pray to any gods... I came here to see Lia, and so far, all people have done is keep me away from her. She promised that we would spar when we'd next meet." She explained, clearly agitated by the wait.

"Lia is busy with... politics of a sort - courtesy of Lord Tywin, perhaps you should take it up with him." Sansa suggested as she threw her head back in their direction, a faint smile plastered across her face as she spotted the scowl Obara sent her. "What?"

"Well I would, believe me, but my father has warned me about the wrath of lions." Obara muttered, ignoring the smile that Catelyn gave her.

"And so he should." Catelyn commented, moving towards the Mother where she felt she shared the most connection as Sansa went in search for the Maid, Obara however, just shuffled around in the background.

"Is this where they keep the remains of the dragons?" Obara wondered aloud.

"Apparently." Even as Catelyn knelt before the Mother, though she felt no nurturing from the stature depicted before her. Four of her babies... her beautiful babies - they were gone, all except Sansa and Eliana... when her own mother had passed, she remembered lighting many candles before the Mother as she sent quiet prayers to her spirit but all that graced her was death.

When she'd finished, Catelyn turned and spotted Obara moving around absent-mindlessly, merely gazing upon the statues of the Seven. "They won't bite you, they're simply here to offer you comfort in dark times... pick one and pray, and if you pray hard enough, what you wish for most may come true."

"Only children do such things."

Catelyn nodded, "But I am not a child, I still need the comfort the Seven offer. I need guidance when I lose my way."

"Does Lia?"

Catelyn paused, not knowing the answer. "I don't know the answer; Lia prefers to keep her father's gods, the Old gods rather than mine..." She trailed off, her brows knitting together as she thought. "But I think since her father died, she's given up all the gods in return for silence? She doesn't pray anymore."

She turned to the Crone next, seeing no point in praying to the Maiden, Smith nor the Father - she would only be tortured of her own pain, remembering those she'd lost, but she knew she needed all the wisdom she could get; she needed the light to guide her through the darkness.

She turned to the Stranger after that, she found she felt like a Stranger in herself and in the city she found herself in. She hoped she would be guided, by the spirits of her loved ones or even herself. Despite being the darkest of the Seven, she felt herself drawn to him. She'd lost herself. She was left broken after Ned's death, defeated when she knew she couldn't get her girls back, and she was shattered with Bran and Rickon's deaths but Robb's death had pushed her over the edge and into the Stranger's welcoming arms.

Glancing around, she saw Sansa silently moving around the Sept, however she paused when she spotted Obara before the Warrior. Slowly, she joined the girl before him. "You wish for strength?" She asked, her hand falling upon her shoulder.

Obara frowned, "Do you?"

She'd prayed to the Warrior for Ned's safety on many occasions, both during the rebellion and in recent years. The Warrior had been her new replacement for the Mother when Robb had called his banners, when he was crowned King in the North. It was queer, the Warrior was for the men; the Maiden for the women, yet Eliana always prayed to him first when Catelyn forced her to.

It took Cat quite a while to figure that one out but when she did, she saw herself as a warrior of sorts too, and she knew she would need all the strength left withering within her soul. She lit two candles for the Warrior, one from herself and the other from Obara. "Yes, I pray for strength." Catelyn nodded.

"We all need it." A voice rang out from behind them.

Catelyn wheeled on her heel, only to see Jaime Lannister leaning against a column behind them. "Ser Jaime." She said, nodding at him as he glistened brightly in his white armour with his golden hand.

"Lady Catelyn," Jaime replied, his tone gentle as he stepped towards her, his eyes flying to Sansa who had already noticed his presence. "Lady Sansa... and who is this?" His emerald eyes fell upon Obara.

Catelyn hesitated in reply, forgetting that Jaime and Obara hadn't been acquainted with one another but surprisingly, Obara spoke for herself.

"Clearly the Warrior never answered your prayers, Ser, anger them did you?" Obara spat, her eyes narrowing on his golden hand.

"Well aren't you... blunt yet sharp, a Snake of sorts are you?" He raised an eyebrow in Obara's direction, smirking.

Obara frowned, "My father is Prince Oberyn of Dorne."

"Ah, a feisty one." He pushed himself away from the column and walked closer towards them, his golden hand resting upon the hilt of his sword. "Where is the bride to be? Not feeling well is she... it must be this weather."

"She's with Oberyn." Catelyn answered as Sansa came to her side.

The amused look left Jaime's face, replaced by something strange – serious, maybe even regretful. "Oh, I merely assumed she would be accompanying you today on your visit here..."

"She doesn't need you worrying for her."

"Actually, I think she does... she doesn't know what she's doing." Jaime sounded sincere, something Catelyn thought he'd be incapable of after all his years and after all his sins. "But we both failed you, didn't we?"

She narrowed her eyes, pushing the two girls behind her as she stepped towards him, looking at him shrewdly. "Failed me? In what way did you fail me, Ser?"

His lips twitched, unsure of how to approach the situation, either choosing to form a smirk or a frown or his time in captivity had rendered him emphatic for once in his life. "I swore that I would return your daughters to you, but when I came here, only one remained... and I've been too selfish to go in search for the other." He actually sounded ashamed, but he didn't look away from. He stared his flaws directly in the eyes if he was to deal with them as honestly as he could. "Do you know where I can find Lia?" He pressed, looking somewhat agitated.

"You know where she is, the whole bloody city know's where she is." Catelyn hissed, sick of his questioning, having heard enough of it for one day. Yet, Jaime still looked lost which meant he was the minority, because it seemed even all of Flea Bottom knew. "Oh, haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?"

Catelyn's lips twitched upwards, "She's busy getting married, and you are not the husband-to-be."

Her hair had been pinned into place and plaited into a single braid that cascaded down her back to lurk at her waist. Her dress was subtle if she was to smuggle herself out of the Red Keep but it was an attractive silvery tone, conducted from a fabric that flowed around her, adorned with tiny silver direwolves woven around gold beaded suns. Her hand enclosed around her pendant, her fingers sweaty as she clutched the sigil of her mother's house that was strung upon the pendant chain as she took in a deep breath.

Soon, she would cease to be Eliana Stark, and instead she would be Eliana Martell, wife of Prince Oberyn Martell. She would always be Eliana, the daughter of the North, but that didn't mean she would willingly forget all she was.

Oberyn smiled, adjusting his tunic which shone a deep crimson, littered with golden suns while his cloak, golden and emblazoned with a large sun pierced by a spear, hung from his shoulders, billowing in the slight gust of wind that made him appear somewhat majestic. His dark hair had been braided back, his white whips weaved through the braids as his smokey eyes smoldered deeply. She was grateful his beard still graced his jaw and cheeks, thankfully, making him seem all the more alluring as he waited quietly.

"I feel as though I am an outsider intruding upon such a place where I do not belong." Oberyn admitted, worriedly, his face dark while he followed the darkened path that led to the weirwood tree that loomed before them. He was silent; his steps careful and his gaze still as he watched the tree, its own eyes staring back.

"I should hope not; you're about to marry a Northerner," She reminded softly, smiling as she watched him, wondering what he felt being in such a place. "You'll hardly be an outsider anymore."

She had at least not laughed; many Southerners had shared the same feeling when visiting the godswood, showing they were not of Northern blood... she remembered her father had once told her it was because they didn't have a godswood of their own, and so they weren't accustomed to the nurturing warmth they possessed when visited.

Her grandfather had told her something different; that it was because their ancestors were to blame, for abandoning the Old gods for the new faith - the Seven, which is why they felt such unease.

However, Oberyn said nothing, just staring at the faces before him. "I have a question; my father once told me that the faces were into carved the trunks of the tree by the Children of the Forest, is that so?" He wondered, frowning at the thought.

Eliana nodded, "Apparently so... they thought of it as a way of representing the gods, to bless those with sight if they found themselves blind in a place like this, to help them see." She explained, her voice soft. "You never fail to surprise me."

Oberyn's brow sprung in intrigue, "And what do you mean by that?"

"It's just that most Southerner's never desire to visit the godswood, it's queer." Eliana commented, "Why did you want it here of all places?"

"I suppose I saw it as comfort for you... knowing that your father and brothers are departed from us along with your grandfather, both Stark and Tully, and uncle..." He paused, glancing at the ground. "And because of that, I wanted you to feel at home rather in a foreign place such as this, also, I would like to think your father would bless our union."

At that moment, Oberyn sat himself down upon the roots and beneath the branches, pressing his hand against the faces. "I would being lying if I did not feel something that left me feeling uneasy, spirits possibly? I don't know, I'm just being skeptical I guess."

"For a man who claims he feels uneasy, you look quite comfortable to me." She observed as he watched her with those dark eyes of his.

He grinned then, a thought springing into mind. "When we return to Dorne, I will have a sapling here taken with us to Sunspear and planted where it shall thrive in the heat and live gloriously, growing as we grow old together."

Eliana snorted, "Either that or it will die." Oberyn fell silent at words, and so she continued. "A weirwood is not meant to be taken from its natural habitat, it will not thrive with all it can otherwise..."

"Much like yourself then?" Oberyn dared to question, his eyes glowing mysteriously. "It seems all these Southerners as you call us, seek to tame you..." Oberyn informed her wryly, a small smile stretching out onto his lips. "You're comparing yourself to a Heart Tree."

"A wolf doesn't live to be tamed, it lives to conquer."

At her words, Oberyn chuckled. "Of course." He agreed, rising slowly before moving to brush the dirt and moss from his legs. He stepped towards her, his eyes soft as he regarded his wife-to-be.

"Shall we begin?"

They both turned to see the Septon had arrived, waiting for them as he gliding towards the Heart Tree.

The older man smiled, "You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection, my Prince," The Septon commanded, forcing Eliana to shut her eyes as she heard Oberyn move as he removed his cloak, draping it over her shoulders swiftly before moving to join her at her side once more, taking her hand in his and pressing a light kiss to the back of her hand before lifting them as it was customary.

"You stand here in the sight of the Gods as they witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul... now and forever." The Septon took a strip of white cloth, symbolizing the purity and binding of their union to one another, wrapping it around their entwined hands. "In the sight of both gods, Old and News, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one, for eternity... look upon one another and say the words."

Eliana took in another deep breath as she and Oberyn turned to face one another, his expression passionate yet dark as his eye bored into her.

Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger... I am hers... and she is mine... from this day until the end of my days.

Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger... I am his... and he is mine... from this day until the end of my days.

A knock interrupted them.

Eliana pulled away from Oberyn, an irritated groan leaving her mouth as she looked towards the door. "Ignore it." Oberyn drew her back to him, her hands cupping his jaw, pressing her lips against his own, deepening it when she heard him moan.

His hand tightened suddenly, fingers tangling in the dark mane as he dipped his head towards her, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, his hands bringing her flush against him, trailing to the back of her thighs to lift her.

Seconds later, her legs had wrapped themselves around his waist as he supported her weight easily enough, moving them to the bed as she broke the kiss when he laid her down, kneeling above her. "I love you." He hummed just as she took him by surprise, flipping them so she was sat above him, knees on either side of his hips, his hands resting upon her waist with his fingers sprayed. His touch scolded her, even through the clothes she wore, and she smiled before leaning down and allowed her hair to fall around them.

Her lips brushed softly, almost teasingly, over his which sent a soft murmur through his chest. Her hands disappeared beneath his tunic, running along his chest as Oberyn gripped her waist severely. At the touch, she deepened the kiss.

Having had enough, Oberyn rolled them once more so he was hovering above her, allowing one of his hands to stroke the strands of her hair as he reached for the back of her dress as if to undo it. His movements were slow but he seemed to hasten when he trusted himself against her, pulsating and hard, through the fabric of his breeches.

Knocking rung through their ears once more, causing them to groan in annoyance and ignore the persistence once again, however, the door soon slammed open to clatter against the wall, sending a rally of vibrations through the room, enough to jolt them into awareness.

Oberyn sighed loudly, throwing his head in the direction of the door, prepared to shout at whoever had interrupted such a moment but he paled when he saw that it was Catelyn who had entered. Seeing the look within her eyes, Oberyn immediately straighten his appearance before offering Eliana his hand.

Despite finding them in a very compromising position of intimacy, Catelyn couldn't help but muse at the scene, finding it amusing that Oberyn had become skittish so easily, was she that terrifying? "Lia," Catelyn gestured to the man stood beside her, "You remember Thomos."

Standing tall and broad, with stocky arms and a muscular build as well as brown hair and eyes to match, Thomos wore a vermilion woolen tunic embroidered with the red stallion of his House. He was no longer the boy from her childhood, but instead, a grown man.

"Of course." She nodded, her voice guarded.

Thomos smiled at her, bowing his head. "It has been a long time, my lady."

"Princess..." Oberyn moved forward, pushing her behind him as he eyed up the younger male, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "It is Princess Eliana now."

The large man stood behind the door moved forward, standing near seven feet tall at least? Heavily muscled and with the astute of a formidable warrior, Jarrad Umber had the looks of his uncle. "My Princess." He bowed his head as he stayed behind Catelyn.

"Listen to what they have to say, Lia." Catelyn advised, her eyes shining with - tears? Or with hope?

"A Bracken and a Umber, what an odd combination..." Eliana concluded, moving around Oberyn as he appeared more than reluctant to move. "May I ask what brings you here?"

Moving forward, Thomos approached a table in the room to set the sack he carried upon, a ringing echoing off the wood as he placed it down. Pulling on the string attached, Thomos stuck his hand inside to withdraw its contents, revealing something that made Eliana's blood turn cold at the mere sight of it.

An open circlet of hammered bronze incised with what appeared to be the runes of the First Men, surmounted by nine black iron spikes wrought in the bearing of longswords.

"It is the crown of Winter of Robb Stark, my Princess."

Eliana nodded, her eyes trained upon the crown. "I know what it is... how did you come by it?" Her eyes shot to Thomos, her gaze harsh and full of hate in one swift flood of anger and pain at remembrance of how it was lost.

"The Red Fork, we were able to fish it out before we lost it ourselves." Thomos informed her, looking back at Jarrad who merely nodded. "Then, we road for a solid two weeks to present it to you."

Oberyn scoffed, "Why? Why not hand it to the Freys, they are your Overlord's now... or is it House Baelish of Harrenhal?" He questioned, not understanding the purpose of their arrival, a rather unwanted one at that.

"My House's Overlord's will always be the Tullys, not matter what becomes of the realm." Thomos vowed, holding his head as he held Oberyn's stare. Giving the Dornishman one last look, her turned his attention to Eliana.

"Go on." She prompted, folding her arms across her chest as she waited for Thomos to continue.

The man dropped to the floor, kneeling, his brown hair disturbed as it feathered around his face to blind him momentarily. "You are the Queen, and we will only bend our knee to you. Not the Freys, nor the Lannisters or Boltons. Only you, you are the Queen in the North."

A/N: You know what to do, lovely people!

We know Jonos Bracken had no sons (apart from a bastard), but I have created one and so he shall live! And as for Jarrad - Greatjon had at least two brothers, so I created a nephew. They are my OC's, purely created for the story.

We all know what Jaime is going to do! Tywin will know of this soon enough, and request Eliana to meet him. The next one is great!

UPDATES: Friday 3rd, April 2015

Ezeiel