Thank you so, so much for all the reviews on the last chapter! I am so ecstatic about every single one, it is a great honour!
This chapter turned out to be a long one, I do hope you will enjoy it!
Just when Samaya thought she could not be more surprised by developments in this wretched city, she was proven wrong. A few days after her engagement had been announced, another wedding was to take place, and she could not fathom why two people so different would even have the slightest desire to get married. However, she knew that the reasons behind this specific union were merely the quest for more power.
She watched uncomfortably as Joffrey made a mockery out of his uncle's wedding to Sansa Stark. Everything about this King disgusted her. He was a child trapped in the body of a psychotic adolescent. While they dined after, her future husband, who had been quiet throughout the ceremony, took her hand. Startled, she looked up at him sitting beside her.
"I promise you, he will not ruin our wedding," he said softly, his eyes full of warmth.
"It's a wedding. It's already ruined," Samaya replied coolly and snatched her hand back. She was still a little furious with him, and did not want to think of the upcoming event. A few days ago, she had received a letter from his paramour, Ellaria Sand. Whereas the woman had seemed to like her in Dorne, she had nothing but bitter words to say to her now. The letter spoke of betrayal and the lust for power. It ended with her explaining how she had already left King's Landing, but that she would be waiting for her in Dorne, where her new life would be 'anything but pleasant.'
Sam had contemplated showing the letter to Oberyn, but she was certain that he knew already how vindictive his lover was about their union. She just had to wait and see. Between Cersei's threat and Ellaria's intimidation, living in Dorne was about the last thing she wanted to do, but she still had hope. At least, she would be allowed to train there. The morning before, she had tried to practice her archery, but was denied entry by two guardsmen. Oberyn had to drag her away kicking and screaming.
Besides, she had not talked to any of her family since that fateful morning with Margaery and her grandmother. The former had tried to visit, but she had refused to open the door for her. Just because she was to be Queen, she was still her sister, and she would always treat her as such. Even though she knew Margaery had no hand in arranging her marriage, she was still too furious. And when she heard that her dear brother Loras was to marry Cersei, she was sure that common sense had left House Tyrell.
Sam was shaken out of her reverie when Oberyn got up from the table and dragged her to her feet with him.
"Let us dance," he said decisively, and the young girl knew she better not resist. There was a gleam in his eyes that dared her not to. Slowly, he led her on the dance floor amidst other spinning couples.
"I remember the last time you were dancing in this spot," he said and watcher her face for reaction. "I saw a fire in you that night that made me sure of why we should be husband and wife."
"Not because of my passion for dancing," Samaya commented dryly. Oberyn smiled softly.
"No, not because of that. But because you showed no fear in the face of one of the most dangerous men in this realm. Had I not stepped in, I am sure you would have punched him as hard as you did me later that night," he rectified.
"Not hard enough," Sam mumbled, but he heard, pushing their bodies closer together.
"I wish you would stop being so angry with me. Can you not see the bigger picture here? Lannisters and Tyrells, Tyrells and Martells, Starks and Lannisters – all of these so called 'unions' just serve one cause: to secure survival in the war. And trust me, there will be a war, there has been for quite some time," he explained in a low voice Samaya would not hear were his mouth not next to her ear. Ignoring the exciting sensation flowing through her veins at this proximity, she thought his words over.
"The young wolf is dead. Slowly, this realm is coming to terms with their new King. I think you might be mistaken," she answered him after a few moments. He pulled back and smiled down at her, a mischievous glint playing in his eyes.
"That is not the war I was talking about," he answered and her eyes widened in surprise. However, he did not care to elaborate, and just spun her around frantically. It was only then she noticed that she was seemingly able to dance like a lady when he was leading. Their conversation had kept her from paying any attention to what exactly she was doing, but now she realised that she had not tripped, nor stepped on his toes a single time. That discovery left her baffled, and that not for the first time when it came to her future husband.
As early as the first ray of light hitting her bed, Sam got up the next morning. While washing her face, she contemplated the events of the night before. How humiliating of an affair it had been. She made a note to visit Sansa Stark that day, and find out whether her spirits were as low as she thought them to be.
After Tyrion had refused the bedding ceremony, she quickly made her excuse as well and left the feast. Just before she had reached her chamber door, Oberyn had caught up with her. Once again, he reassured her about their own wedding, before giving her another long kiss. Whereas their past ones had been passionate, this one had a tender note to it. Sam felt herself ease up on her anger more and more. Maybe this marriage was a fortunate turn of events for her.
A soft knock sounded on her door and Sam gave permission to enter, expecting her handmaidens. However, it was her sister who poked her head through the door.
"Please do not ask me to leave again. I miss talking to you," she said with a fearful expression. Sam sighed and waved her in.
"Come in, I miss you too, you silly goat," she said and smiled shyly. Carefully, Margaery closed the door behind her and sat down next to Sam, taking her hand in her own.
"What happened, Sam? When did you start hating us so much?" the younger girl asked quietly.
"I do not hate you, dear sister. Nor do I hate the rest of our family. Grandmother just goes too far sometimes…," Samaya started explaining. "She has known all her life that I never wished to be married, but still, she arranges marriage for me."
"I think you and I both know that we have no other choice. We have to do what is best for our house. I do not wish to marry Joffrey either, but he is the new King. It's a most advantageous match," Margaery said.
"I suppose so. Oh, I do wish you can be happy here," Samaya said and looked at her sister, who smiled sadly.
"With all of us here, I find King's Landing terribly exciting. I just fear the day when everyone leaves," Margaery confessed. Sam squeezed her hand and smiled encouragingly.
"I am quite certain Loras will stay, too. After all, he will be married to the Dowager Queen, and she will never abandon her son," she said with humour in her voice. Margaery rolled her eyes. They both knew better than to discuss the topic of their brothers' mismatched marriage. After all, you never knew who was listening inside the Red Keep.
"Well, I have actually come here with an invitation for you," Margaery piped up, the sadness in her expression gone, replaced by excitement.
"Oh?" Samaya raised her eyebrows and smiled.
"I need you to come with me to my dress fitting today. The seamstress has been working on my wedding gown for a while now, and it is only right that yours be as beautiful as the future Queen's," her sister said with glee in her voice.
"Don't you mean almost as beautiful?" Sam teased her and both girls laughed.
"Yes, you caught me. In any case, I want to oversee your dress fitting. I am hoping you will fare better than me and will only have to marry once, and I want to be there for every bit of the way," Margaery said and the sisters shared a meaningful look.
"I hope so too," Samaya quietly said as she followed the younger girl out of the room, ready to be tormented by needles and itchy fabrics.
The next morning, Prince Oberyn Martell found himself staring at his future wife's door. It was not like him to be hesitant, but he'd been staring at the piece of wood for a good while now, trying to get his thoughts in order. Granted, marriage was a concept he'd never been fond of, but it all made sense now. He readily admitted that he cared deeply for the girl, and had the desire to keep her safe. In the back of his mind, he still hoped to forge a powerful alliance, but not under her Tyrell name. However, a plan had not yet formed, and he still had not told his brother all he knew about her. Granted, she had told him the most important part of her secret, but there was still more he wished to understand. Which is what brought him to her door so early on this beautiful day. He inhaled deeply, and knocked on the door with determination. Moments later, a handmaiden opened it for him. He nodded to the young girl in greeting and stepped into the room as a loud thud sounded from the other side. His future wife was standing only a few feet away from him, staring at the bedpost, which had multiple knives embedded in it. In her left hand, she held two more, undoubtedly ready to throw them with the same vehemence she seemed to have thrown their predecessors.
"Good morning, Samaya. I see you still keep up your training," he said with an amused tone in his voice. The girl turned around and looked at him sternly for a moment.
"Every time I throw one, I imagine the face of one of the guards who refused me entry to the archery range," she said strongly. Oberyn sighed. He had seen her angry more than anything else in their time here. It was the perfect opportunity to change that.
"That's why I came to see you. Put on your riding gear, we are going for an expedition," he said and her eyebrows shot up.
"Really? Outside of the walls of this wretched town?" she asked him eagerly. Oberyn smiled at her fondly.
"Yes, my dear. You can even bring your bow. It will just be you and me," he stated. A genuine smile spread on her face and she walked closer to him. She was hesitant at first, but then gave him a strong hug. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled the scent of her. She always smelled like a morning forest, and he liked it immensely.
"Meet me by the stables when you're ready," he said as she let go. Gently, she put a hand on his cheek and smiled shyly.
"Thank you," she whispered. He returned the kind gesture and gave her a chaste kiss before leaving. He was getting used to her in his life more and more.
As the young Lady and the Prince escaped the hot, dirty city on their horses, onlookers marvelled at the happy expression on the Tyrell girl's face. The Dornish Prince could not keep his gaze from her as they galloped through most of its streets. Fingers were pointed at the bow slung over her back, and the spear that was in his hand, but neither one of them paid any attention. As rocks and sand gave way to lush grass and old trees, they both realised just how much they'd needed an escape.
Samaya was happy like she had not been since she came to King's Landing. Finally, she felt like she could breathe again. The air around her did not seem to cling to her skin, and the soft breeze carried fresh scents instead of the stench rising up from Flea Bottom on most days. Content in every way, she closed her eyes and sighed as Shadowfoot trotted along as happily as his rider. The horse had been ecstatic to see her, and could hardly wait to get saddled and taken out of his stable. Just like her, he had been caged in since their arrival.
"A servant told me about a beautiful clearing with a small lake just over that hill there. I thought we could rest there," her companion spoke up for the first time since they'd mounted and Samaya opened her eyes to look at him.
"That sounds lovely, we should go," she replied and he led the way through a narrow path just off the Kingsroad. They had to dismount and lead their horses for the last leg of the journey, but the sight that greeted them was breath-taking. The thick bushes before them gave way to a cosy clearing, covered in little blue flowers, and sporting a clear blue pond in the middle.
Sam stood there in amazement. It was absolutely stunning. She quickly roamed her eyes over the open space, but it seemed they were completely alone here. Smiling, she took off her horse's harness and patted him on the neck.
"There you go, knock yourself out," she whispered and he happily took off in the search for the most delicious grass to eat. Turning around, she saw that Oberyn had taken the saddle bags off his steed, too. He gestured towards the edge of the lake and they made their way over. To her surprise, he laid a big blanket down on the floor and produced a bottle of wine and some fruit from the bags.
"Come sit with me," he said as he stretched out on top of the comfortable material.
"Just give me a moment," Samaya replied and walked over to the water. Slowly, she dipped her hand in it only to find it had a pleasant temperature. Without hesitation, she kicked off her boots and started to unfasten her riding dress. It was a hot day, and she felt the need to rinse off some of the dirt she felt constantly clung to her skin. Behind her, she heard Oberyn laugh, but she did not care. He had already seen her bathe before, and it seemed like they were alone.
Leaving only a thin, short underdress to cover her body, she slowly stepped into the water. It was absolutely heavenly, and she would have loved to dive in head-first, but she had to be careful. Samaya let the water come up to about her navel and stood there, immersing her hands in the cool liquid. The sound of splashing behind her signalled that her companion had joined her, and her heart stopped a moment at the thought of their bodies almost naked together. Oberyn slung one bare arm around her waist and pressed his toned form against her back. A soft kiss landed on her naked shoulder and Samaya giggled.
"So I take it you are not mad at me anymore?" he said huskily next to her ear.
"I could not be mad at anything right now. This spot is… magical," Samaya replied just above a whisper.
"I am happy that you are enjoying it. I noticed how trapped you felt in the Red Keep. But it will not be for much longer now, my love. As soon as your sister has been married, we can leave for Dorne," he mused. Samaya scoffed slightly.
"First, we will have to get our wedding out of the way," she said. Oberyn's hands enclosed her tighter as he replied.
"I do not much care for the ceremony, but for the wedding night," he stated and Samaya laughed loudly before wriggling free of his hold.
"And I am sure you can be patient until then," she teased him while wading back towards their little camp. Back on land, she wrenched most of the water out of her dress before sitting down on the blanket. Oberyn joined her in all his shirtless glory and soon handed her a cup filled with wine.
"Tell me, Samaya – will I be the first man to know you?" he asked her with a calm expression.
"Will my answer make any difference in you wanting to be my husband?" she replied instantly.
"No. I would like to be the only man to ever know you in such a way, but I will not be appalled if that honour does not fall unto me," he said after some consideration. Samaya looked at the cup in her hands, smiling.
"You will be the first. Possibly the only one, but who knows? Seeing how you will certainly not stop pursuing other women, I might do the same," she said a little tensely. The prince studied her face for a moment before smirking boyishly.
"You are not happy with that idea," he concluded. Sam's face scrunched up in playful torment.
"I have told you before what I believe marriage to be, and no, I am not happy that you will still want to sleep with other women. In fact, I am warning you right now: there will be rage," she said sternly. Her husband to be just laughed.
"I think I can take it," he replied and leant down to give her a tender kiss. Samaya had gotten very used to his displays of affection and did not mind them one bit. In fact, she was longing for his touch more with every passing day. Once her anger had subsided, the passion he had awoken in her just grew more and more.
"Before we start our new life together, I wanted to ask you something," his voice broke her thoughts and she looked at him expectantly.
"Go ahead," she said. The playful expression vanished from his features and he looked at her sternly.
"I want to hear the whole story. You have already told me who your father was, but I still do not understand how it came to be. In order to protect you, I think I need to know," Oberyn looked at her expectantly. Samaya's breath caught in her lungs. She had hoped that he would be content with the little bits of information she had given him, but knew that it was unlikely. After all, he was one of the most inquisitive and curious men she knew. After a few moments, she let out a long sigh and sat up a little straighter.
"I suppose you have a right to know, so I will tell you. However, I sincerely hope that you will never tell another living soul, not even future children, if we have them," she said sternly, studying his face for sincerity.
"I promise not to tell anyone besides our future children. They should know where their blood comes from," he answered.
"Bastard blood, Oberyn. Tainted, maddened, heavy blood. I do not wish to put the same burden onto them that I had to bear my whole life. They would feel just as trapped as me, constantly having to hide their true identities. We will raise them as princes and princesses of Dorne, and that is who they shall be," she said assertively.
"How about we cross that bridge when we get to it, and you tell me the rest in the meantime?" he suggested instead of giving her an answer.
"Very well, but do not think I will forget you evading my wishes here," Samaya said as he grinned innocently. She took another deep breath and began her tale.
"Many years ago, before Robert's Rebellion, the mental decline of the Mad King was already obvious to those closest to him. My grandmother had always hoped for a possible alliance between Tyrells and Targaryen that was sealed in blood, but her son married a Hightower instead. However, her new daughter-in-law had proven far more useful than she believed her to be. The two women grew close, and my grandmother shared her wishes with her. My mother, herself a little power-hungry, soon realised that she could help. She had spent a significant amount of time in King's Landing before her marriage, and knew that the Mad King had always looked at her with a lustful eye. So she suggested a deceit. My grandmother, with the help of a friend in King's Landing, arranged for a visit, and even though he was frail and demented, the King was seduced by Alerie Hightower. My father, as you probably know, is not necessary a man of sharp wit, so he did not even realise what was happening right under his nose. Alas, at this point she had already given him 2 sons, so he was deeply satisfied," she explained and Oberyn listened carefully.
"I was born 2 years before the Rebellion, on a cold night during that winter. My hair was as white as every Targaryen's, and my mother decided immediately that she had to dye it. The midwives who helped deliver me were forced to join the Silent Sisters, and nobody was allowed to see me except wrapped in a bundle from head to toe. As I grew older, it became apparent that I wished to swim every day. My mother had forbidden me from doing so, but seeing how I did not listen, I had to wear a black head scarf every time. I knew that the colour of my hair was a secret, but I never understood the significance of it until I was about 13 years old. My grandmother called me to her one day and explained everything to me. After, I went to the stables, grabbed my horse and rode off. It took them three days to find me, by which time my anger had slowly subsided, and I was willing to come back," Samaya took a short break, looking at the hands in her lap.
"I have been living with the knowledge of my real identity ever since, and have carried it as a burden my whole adult life. Not only my life, but that of my whole family would be in danger if my secret surfaced, and I cannot let that happen. Even though I am a Tyrell only in name, I still love them. Highgarden has been my home until a few moons ago, and I would never risk bringing any harm to House Tyrell," she concluded and looked at Oberyn, who was watching her intensely.
"Do your siblings know?" he asked after a few moments. Samaya shook her head.
"No, before you found out, only three people in this kingdom knew. It was possibly the hardest thing I ever had to do, not to tell them," she answered with a heavy voice.
"Olenna, Alerie… who is the third?" Oberyn asked with confusion on his face.
"The friend who arrange for my mother to visit the King, the Master of Whisperers," she said carefully. She was still unsure what to think of the man, but she would not protect him further.
"I should have known," Oberyn scoffed "He has been trying to arrange a Martell-Targaryen wedding for the past few years," he informed her. Samaya's brows shot up in surprise.
"Between whom?" she asked curiously.
"Viserys and my niece, Arianne. He was murdered some time ago, though. Did you know?" Oberyn informed her.
"Yes, I had heard. Daenerys is the only one left now," Samaya answered. Oberyn smiled and reached out to stroke her chin.
"Not the only one," he said tenderly, but Samaya looked at him sternly.
"I might have the blood, but I do not want the name. I am a bastard, after all," she said with a sad tone in her voice.
"You know what we think of bastards in Dorne. To me, it makes no difference," he answered and leant in to give her another kiss. Samaya closed her eyes and revelled in the feeling. Over the last few days, he had shown her incredible kindness and given her much comfort. She had trusted him with her biggest secret, and little by little, her doubts about this marriage seemed to vanish…
I felt it was time to recap the tale of Samaya's heritage, and I hope it has cleared up some of the confusion.
Please leave me a review if there's anything you fell its missing, or even just if you enjoyed it :)