I sat across from Oberyn in silence, staring at the food I couldn't bring myself to eat. I heard Oberyn's fork scrape his plate, and my stomach churned. "The food is spicy, I hope you don't mind. I did tell the cooks to make it milder than normal, though," Oberyn said quietly. I pushed the rice on my plate, and repressed a sigh.
"Raenara," Oberyn called. I looked up at him and blinked, "My apologies, Prince Oberyn. I seem to not have an appetite tonight," I muttered. He dropped his fork and I saw the resignation in his gaze.
"I know this isn't what you wanted, Rae. But this doesn't need to be difficult." He sighed. I bit back a laugh and shook my head, "She's taking the Stormlands, Prince Oberyn. Right now, as we speak, my cousin is marching to the Stormlands and I am not with her. Right now, my husband goes North to gather men with Sir Barristan, and my good sisters are at Dragonstone with Daario Naharis. And I… Am here, in this pretty prison," I let out a rough breath and crossed my arms.
"You chose this, Rae. The moment you imprisoned Hizdahr, and lied about it, you made a choice. And at least here you will have freedoms, you can go into the city, to the Sept and the market. It will be no different than your life in Meereen." Oberyn said, frustration blazing in his eyes. "Except I cannot leave the city. And there will be guards watching my every move, I will have a set amount of money to roam the city. If I'm here, it means I'm not at Dany's side, as I should be." I snapped.
"You forced her to execute her betrothed for treason, Raenara. If you ask me, you're lucky she did not throw you in a prison cell." He pointed his fork at me as he spoke, his tone that one would use toward a child. Irritation swirled deep inside of my gut, and somewhere, very far away, a dragon stirred.
"She took my dragon and I can't see my child, Oberyn. I'd say that there is very little difference between this castle and a prison cell," I whispered. I stood up and excused myself, forcing myself to not run as I went back into my rooms.
I felt Oberyn's eyes on me until I closed the door.
Once I reached my rooms, a young girl was waiting for me. She remained quiet as she helped me unpin and brush out my hair, as I changed into sleepwear that I knew wouldn't stay on the entire night.
Even after so long in Meereen, I still hadn't grown completely accustomed to the heat, and Dorne was definitely hot.
I smiled at the girl gratefully, then paused when I realized how young she was. "What is your name, child?" I asked curiously.
"Obella Sand, my Lady." She said with a nod. I startled, "You're one of Oberyn's daughters," I realized. She nodded, "Yes, my Lady. Is there anything else you need?" She asked. I shook my head, then hesitated. "Would it be possible to have some wine, please?" I asked slowly. She gestured to my sitting room, "My Lord Father has placed a small variety of our best wines in there, Your Highness," She told me, then left the room.
I pulled off the clothes she helped me into and put on a silk robe, instead. The fabric felt smooth, more bearable in this heat. I ventured into my sitting room and looked around slowly, wondering if I'd ever be going back to Winterfell. I poured myself a glass of wine and heaved a sigh.
Something told me Winterfell would be too cold, too grey, after these last years. I sat on one of the chairs and stretched my legs across it.
I had almost been home. It seemed the Gods enjoyed toying with my hopes, bringing me so close to going home, only to take it away at the last moment. It had been so long since I've been back, I could hardly remember what it looked like. I couldn't remember how the biting cold felt, against threadbare dresses. I had to focus to remember what it felt like to walk in the snow.
It was slipping away, so slowly, yet all at once.
I was pulled from my thoughts by a knock on the door. I sat straight and tied my robe, calling for the person to enter. Oberyn stood in the doorway, and I fought back a flush as his eyes dragged up and down my body.
"Can I help you?" I asked with a raised brow. Oberyn cleared his throat, "Your handmaiden, my Lady. You haven't told me who you wish for," he reminded me. I took a long drink and thought for a moment.
"Gilly," I said slowly, waiting for the irritation to return again.
Mayhap if I made him angry with me, he would not want to see me anymore.
"I can arrange for the Wildling to come to Sunspear. But you would be taking her from Prince Nathyn," Oberyn hissed through clenched teeth. I ran a hand through my hair and heaved a sigh.
"I wish to go to the Sept," I said, surprising myself with the request. "It is late now, but I can arrange for you to visit tomorrow morning," he grimaced. I nodded and put the wine glass down, "I'm going to bed, good night," I waved a hand. He nodded and left the room.
…
I hated corsets. I realized that while Obella tied me into one, the following morning. The outfits I wore in Meereen didn't require them, and I realized, with a pang in my gut, I missed Meereen.
"The first thing I'm doing after the Sept is buying new dresses." I grunted while Obella tugged and nearly broke a rib.
Okay, not really. But it did feel like it.
"Many ladies never need to wear corsets, here in Dorne. Maybe you can ask a courtier who they have make their dresses," Obella suggested. Finally, finally, she had finished with the corset and helped me into a dress. "Maybe I'll just have my Meereenese wardrobe sent from Dragonstone," I thought aloud. "That could work too," Obella shrugged as I sat at the vanity.
"I… Don't know how to fix hair, my Lady." She admitted. I ran a hand through my hair and smiled, "That's fine. Do you know if the litter is waiting?" I asked. She nodded, "Yes, my Lady. It has been waiting since you broke fast this morning."
I was surprised to find Gared waiting near the litter, when I made my way downstairs.
"Wearing your hair down, today. I didn't realize you could… Princess," Gared grinned as he helped me inside. "There is likely a lot you don't know about myself, Gared," I muttered. He surprised me once more, by stepping in and sitting in front of me.
"The Prince has allowed me to be your escort, today." Gared explained. I stared out the window and didn't respond, because how does one respond to that?
"What happened? To you, I mean," Gared said in a rush. I looked at him and blinked, "I didn't realize you have become a Septon, in our time apart," I replied smoothly. "I-I haven't, my Lady," Gared frowned.
"Then I don't see why I'd confess my sins to you," I murmured, looking out the window once more. Gared's gaze felt hot, full of anger, disbelief, and betrayal.
I suddenly had an urge to drink, remembering how Gared was the one to help me get to where I was. That he had been the one person to convince me I was capable of being Lady of Winterfell, all those years ago.
The game of thrones is a cruel one, my Lady. The words repeated themselves in my head bitterly. Because I now knew better.
Cruel didn't begin to describe the world of politics.
"Why did you convince me to claim Winterfell?" I asked suddenly, startling even myself with the question. "I… Ive been wondering since Ser Jorah started doubting I could. At first, I thought it was because you truly believed I could do well, as Lady of Winterfell. But then… I … That can't be it," I stumbled, the words sticking to my tongue like sand.
I saw Gared swallow, as his face paled and eyes grew wide. I frowned, growing more irritated the longer he was silent. To be honest, I wasn't sure why I asked. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know, why this man had sat with me for days trying very hard for me to lay claim over my husband's family home. One that Jon had no claim to, himself, before he left the Watch.
"I… My father died, when the Ironborn took Deepwood Motte, along with everyone else I knew. Yara… slaughtered everyone. Everyone I knew and loved. And I thought… No one could understand that pain, no Lord or Lady will ever know what it means to be trampled on for their wars. Not… not the way we felt it. And then you showed up, on the ship, belly full with a Stark, and I thought-no, I hoped. I hoped that if we could get you to Meereen, and your cousin was willing to help, that you would rebuild the North for us. As someone who grew up amongst the people, you would work to help us, instead of the other Nobles, as someone who witnessed, experienced, what we did, first hand."
I closed my eyes and let out a breath, as he finished speaking. My stomach churned as the smell of charred flesh and blood seemed to fill the air, and I struggled to remain present.
I had hoped he was going to say something more selfish.
I wanted to be the next Lord of Deepwood Motte.
Something that didn't involve what happened in Winterfell. Anything else. Because this… Felt like profiting off of Winterfell's destruction. Off of the deaths that felt like so long ago, yet only yesterday. Everything felt like that recently, and I didn't want to feel like that anymore.
The litter suddenly stopped, and I vaguely heard Gared telling me we had arrived at the Sept. I flung open the door and climbed out, ignoring my guards as they tried to do their job.
The residing Septon didn't look surprised when he saw me stumble through the doors.
"Princess Raenara," he beamed, taking my arm and guiding me through the building. I gaped, at the size and grandeur took my breath away. The stained glass seemed to break the sunlight into a million pieces on the floor, filling the halls with rainbows.
No wonder Oberyn was so dramatic, if every place in Dorne was as… opulent.
"Septon. If you don't mind, I need spiritual guidance, and I would like you to help."
