Jacqueline's horse stomped at the ground lazily as they watched the party from Dorne move closer. It was hot. Too hot that Jacqueline exchanged a high collared dress for one with a lower neckline. The bruises on her arms and the rest of her body had disappeared but the cuts around neck lingered so she kept her hair down to help cover them. When they healed, she expected her neck to be littered with tiny scars from where the harsh rope had twisted against her skin. Jacqueline wondered if she should have declined Tyrion's invitation to be part of the greeting party for the Dornish. But she had told herself that she wouldn't hide away in her room anymore. She was the sister of three kings and her sigil was still the crowned stag. She had just as much right to be in King's Landing as any Lannister. Not that she wanted to be in the capitol but she had no choice in that matter at the moment. And wandering the gardens was starting to bore her. The quiet and calmness of it all was threatening to drive her mad. A change in scenery was needed, however temporary.
Jacqueline didn't say anything as Tyrion had his squire list off the sigils he saw moving down the road towards the gate they waited outside of. It had been over two weeks since the Battle of the Blackwater, but the remains of the war were still littered along the beach before the Mud Gate. Not the most welcoming of sights, Jacqueline thought as the crowd of people inched closer. It was a large party with plenty of colorful sigils and horses but no litter. And if the rumors were true then no litter meant no Doran Martell, who had trouble walking and riding in his older age. The thought of Prince Doran snubbing an invite to the royal wedding made Jacqueline smile. Tyrion must have reached the same conclusion as a concerned look came across his face as he sat atop his horse.
A handful of slow minutes passed before the leaders of the caravan, two men dressed in the dark yellow robes carrying orange banners adorned with the sun and spear sigil of House Martell, reached them. Jacqueline wasn't listening as Tyrion welcomed them, instead she was looking at the parade of people following them. She couldn't recall if she ever met a person from Dorne. She knew there existed bad blood between the Martells and the Lannisters, and by extension the Baratheons, dating back to Robert's Rebellion. She expected the whole royal wedding ordeal to be a tedious one but at least there were plenty of new faces in the capitol. And the preoccupation of wedding plans prevented both Cersei and Joffrey from paying Jacqueline any notice.
"Prince Doran is unable to travel due to his health." Jacqueline heard one of the men say and she refocused her attention. "He sent his brother, Prince Oberyn, in his stead."
Though he hid it well, Jacqueline could tell Tyrion was not pleased by the news. Jacqueline, however, didn't bother to hide her smirk at hearing the news. "And where is Prince Oberyn?" Tyrion asked and Jacqueline looked again to the parade of people, wondering if she had already unknowingly spotted the prince.
"He was not content with the slow pace of the caravan and so he continued ahead of us. He should have arrived a few hours ago." The man said before he and his companion gave a respectful bow and continued on their way towards the city gates.
Bronn looked down at Tyrion, "Where do you suppose he is?"
"A brothel, most likely. Gods know which one." Tyrion responded with a sigh. Without speaking, Jacqueline steered her horse around quickly and took off towards the city gate, eager, for some reason, to find the Dornish prince before the Lannisters. The only brothel she knew of was owned by Littlefinger, so that's where she headed, careful not to knock any common folk over with her horse. She could hear Bronn and Tyrion following closely behind her but she paid them no attention as she pulled her horse to a stop outside the nondescript building that was home to Lord Baelish's highclass brothel, marked only by his personal sigil of a mockingbird next to the entrance.
Leaving her horse tied up outside, Jacqueline darted inside before she had time to rethink the situation. The door wasn't fully shut before Bronn pulled it back open. The three of them stared at each other for a moment as their eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the brothel. The air was heavy with incense and Jacqueline had to suppress a cough as the dense flagrance consumed her senses. "I'll go right," Jacqueline said before heading down the corridor to the right of the entrance. Tyrion gave a slight protest as she walked away, but Jacqueline pretended not to hear him over the sound of her heeled shoes clicking against the polished stone floor.
The hallway was long with a row of doors on either side. A number of doors were open, leading into empty rooms; Jacqueline wasn't sure she had the nerve to open the other doors, for fear of walking into an embarrassing situation. But as she slowly made her way down the corridor a sound reached her ears. It was singing and Jacqueline moved quicker towards it without thinking. It was warm in the brothel and sunshine peaked through the shuttered windows, giving the entire building a dusk-time feel. Incense smoke filter from room to room as Jacqueline tried to move through the brothel without gaining anyone's attention.
Moving closer to an open door on the left, she realized it was a man singing "The Rains of Castamere," a Lannister favorite. Hesitating slightly, Jacqueline took a few steps forward, stopping once she was a couple feet into the open doorway from which she examined the room. It was larger than she expected with high ceilings. A mural of two naked women was painted on the walls framed by a series of heavy drapes and woven rugs covered the stone floor. In view of the doorway, there were two men sitting around a small table with a thinly dressed woman sitting on each of their laps. It was obvious to Jacqueline that neither of these two men were Dornish but before she could continue on down the hallway unseen one of the men spotted her.
"Hey," the man on the far side of the table called out. "Aren't you the Baratheon girl?" Jacqueline didn't respond but nor did she move from her spot in the doorway.
Was she the Baratheon girl? The man's friend had his own opinion. "It's not her." He said squinting over the top of his wine glass in Jacqueline's direction. "She's too pretty."
Jacqueline didn't know whether she should be offended. Was she not suppose to be pretty? It was obvious from their slouched posture and loose tongues they had been drinking for a while."I think it is her," said the dark haired woman sitting on the first man's lap.
At this point, Jacqueline was looking for a polite way out of the room. An apology for interrupting and a goodbye would do but before Jacqueline could speak, the first man continued. "What's wrong, girl? Did Joffrey have your tongue cut out before he hung you from that wall?"
Anger appeared in her heart and found it's way out. "I think, ser, you'll fine that my tongue is very much intact. I would be more concerned with yours if you continue with such insolent." She needed to move on but she didn't want to run away from two nobodies in a brothel. She was tired of appearing weak to others. But she also wanted to find the Dornishman before Tyrion.
However sharp her tone was, her words appeared to have little effect on the man. His drunken laughed filled the room and when his companion joined him, Jacqueline felt her face grow warm with an odd mixture of anger and embarrassment. But before anyone else could speak, another man walked into the room from the other open doorway. It was clear he wasn't a Lannister. Taller than Jacqueline, his brown skin shone in the dim light and his thick black hair held only a few streaks of silver. His slender frame was dressed in dark yellow robes there were similar to the ones worn by the arriving party from Dorne. He was silent as he entered the room, looking from the table of Lannisters to her standing awkwardly to the side.
After a moment, it was the soldier closest to Jacqueline who spoke first. "You lost, friend?"
His dark eyes barely noticed the man at the table before they moved to where she stood. "Lady Baratheon, I believe you have wandered too far." Slightly startled, Jacqueline could only nod accordingly before moving closer to who she assumed to be Oberyn Martell.
The other man scoffed before speaking again, his lips curling up into a sneer. "No surprise that Robert Baratheon's sister is a whore."
More people entered the room then, this time frantically. A young man dressed in blue stayed in the doorway as a woman, with dark hair and skin and dressed in orange, ran forwards, taking Oberyn by the arm. Jacqueline stood in the corner; her dark blue dress almost blending in with the drapes that covered the walls as she watched the new woman try to coax Oberyn out of the room. Still, the Lannister guard continued, this time with a derogatory joke about wasting women on the Dornishman.
Oberyn simply smiled and walked forward. "Do you know why all the world hates a Lannister?" The tension in the room grew tenfold as the men at the table stood, the women on their laps headed for the door. "You think your gold and your lions and your gold lions make you better than everyone else." Oberyn stood in front of the first Lannister guard, looking down at him. "Can I tell you a secret? You're not a golden lion. You're just a pink little man who's far too slow on the draw." A silent moment followed with no movement.
But then the guard reached for his sword that laid atop the table. His hand curled around the hilt but he never made it any further as Oberyn pinned the man's wrist to the table with a knife of his own, drawn quickly from the short sheath on his belt. The man let out a scream and Jacqueline could see blood escaping from the wound. The other guard gripped his own sword but did not draw it, clearly uncertain about what to do in the current situation. "Long sword is a bad option in close quarters," Oberyn said as the pinned man fell to his knees. "When I pull my blade, your friend'll start bleeding. Quite a lot, I'm afraid. So many veins in the wrist." He twisted the knife for a effect, pulling a other groan from the injured guard. "He'll live if you get him help straight away. So," the smile on Oberyn's face finally fell into a snarl. "Decisions."
More footsteps and Tyrion's voice interrupted the moment. "Prince Oberyn, forgive the intrusion. We heard - " The second guard removed his hand from his sword, allowing Oberyn to pull his knife from his friend's wrist. Blood squirted upwards from the wound before the guard could help his injured cohort to the door.
Oberyn quickly returned the small knife to its former place on his hip before turning to his female companion and kissing her, quite passionately Jacqueline thought to be in the company of strangers. Bronn glanced down at Tyrion as the former Hand of the King attempted to gain control of the situation. "I'm here to welcome you to the capitol."
The kissing continued until the woman nudged Oberyn, forcing him to finally removed himself from her long enough to speak. "Ellaria Sand, my paramour." The prince said, introducing the woman in orange. He continued with introductions, this time for Ellaria's sake. "The King's own uncle-imp, Tyrion, son of Tywin Lannister." Oberyn then turned to where Jacqueline stood in the dark corner. "And Lady Jacqueline, sister to King Robert Baratheon. And I suppose King Renly and King Stannis Baratheon." Jacqueline had to consciously stop herself from smiling. Tyrion started to speak but Oberyn moved onto Bronn. "And what are you? His hired killer?"
Bronn nodded, his hand remaining on the hilt of his sword. "It started that way, aye. Now I'm a knight."
"How did that come to pass?" Oberyn asked.
With a shrug the former sellsword said, "Killed the right people, I suppose."
Before things went any farther, Tyrion interjected. "Prince Oberyn, if I may have a word in private."
Oberyn and Tyrion headed for a back door as Bronn wandered elsewhere, leaving Jacqueline alone with Ellaria Sand. She was about the same height as Jacqueline, perhaps a decade older with brown curly hair and an oval face. Her dark eyes stared into Jacqueline's blue ones, analysing her. After a minute, the Dornishwoman took her by the arm and turned her around.
"I've never been in a brothel." Jacqueline blurted out as if it was an apology as Ellaria led her into another room, while Tyrion and Oberyn went out to the alley to talk in private.
"You may be the only Baratheon who hasn't." Jacqueline wondered if Stannis had ever been to a brothel; probably not for himself, she concluded. "I'm not trying to seduce you, child. Not at the moment, anyway. I am curious about how you fit into this dance. Between the Lannisters and Tyrells, that is. Sansa Stark has been married off but you remain a Baratheon." Ellaria glanced at her as they entered another empty room.
Jacqueline shrugged. "I'm not sure anyone would want to marry me. Anyone in need of children, at least."
"There are ways around that problem," Ellaria explained. "Especially when a royal decree can make lords of bastards. You're not the first barren noble woman, and you surely won't be the last." Jacqueline thought for a moment of all the potential suitors the Lannisters could marry her off to. Again, none of the possibilities were preferable. Ellaria stopped walking and poured two glasses of wine before sitting atop the large bed that was placed in the center of the room. She handed a glass to Jacqueline and motioned for her to sit. "So, what are you doing here?"
Tossing a pillow out of the way, Jacqueline took a place next to the strange woman. "In this brothel? I looking was for -"
"No, child." Ellaria interrupted with a smile. "In King's Landing?"
Jacqueline took a slip of wine. "Where else would I be?"
"With your brother?"
"Stannis is a traitor." Ellaria looked at her like she could see through her lie, but she said nothing of it. Oberyn returned then, but without Tyrion or Bronn.
"You're still here, Lady Baratheon?" The prince said, pouring himself a glass. "Will you be joining us?"
Not entirely sure what he meant, Jacqueline shook her head nonetheless. "No. My apologies but I should really be returning to the Red Keep." She stood and placed the glass down on the table.
"Allow me to walk you out." Oberyn took her by the arm just as Ellaria had and together the two headed for the door. "There was once a time when it was a real possibility that you were to be fostered in Dorne," Prince Oberyn said. Jacqueline gave him a confused look. "A sister for a sister."
Jacqueline nodded as the reached the door. "I think I would have preferred Dorne to King's Landing." Walking into the sunlight from the dim brothel nearly blinded her. When her eyes finally adjusted, she noticed all the people moving about the street. Any Lannister spies had a wonderful visual of Oberyn Martell escorting Jacqueline Baratheon out of a brothel. Jacqueline repressed a sigh before allowing Oberyn to help her mount her horse. He kept a hand on the reins as she turned to say her farewell. "It was nice meeting you, Prince Oberyn." She gave him a smile, the first sincere one in a long time.
"As it was meeting you, my lady. And I look forward to seeing you again." The prince said before releasing the reins and allowing Jacqueline to return to her self-imposed isolation in the Red Keep.
*Author's Note*
It's been over a year since I updated last and I have no real excuse. I'm in my last semester of law school and I have an actual job now so don't expect any frequent updates. But thank you so much for continuing to read and for being patient with me. xoxo