"I thought you hated the Lannisters." Oberyn smirked up at Ellaria, leaning back against the cushions as she sat up, stretching languidly.
"Interesting topic for pillow talk," Oberyn remarked sarcastically, to which his paramour shot him an equally as sarcastic look. "If you're speaking of Myrcella and the gallant rescue of the Princess by the Prince's dashing younger brother-" at this the woman rolled her eyes, "then I'd say Myrcella is a Baratheon."
"Is she?" Ellaria fixed Oberyn with a deadpan stare, slowly quirking one of her eyebrows. The man burst into laughter at this, rolling out from under the covers to refill the empty glass at the bedside table from the decanter of wine by the window.
"In name only perhaps, but in nature, she likewise is surely no Lannister."
"She's insufferable."
"Come now!" Oberyn poured Ellaria a glass as well, striding over to hand it to her. "Drink. Your cynicism is showing, along with a far few other things. Just because our daughters don't get along with her doesn't mean she's insufferable. I might go as far as saying our daughters might be the least sufferable of the lot-"
"But they are good judges of character," Ellaria interjected, glaring at him over the rim of her wine glass.
"Our youngest is seven," Oberyn reminded her, keeping his jovial mood.
"And she still cannot stand the Lannister girl."
"Baratheon girl," Oberyn repeated, taking a long drink from his chalice. "You're in quite a sour mood given the circumstances, my love." She pursed her lips then, standing, retrieving her sheer wrap, tossing it around her shoulders and stepping out onto the balcony in the moonlight in nothing else. Oberyn watched her walk away (he did like to watch her walk away) before standing to follow. She tried to shrug him off as he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Have I displeased you, Ellaria?"
"Not you," she answered shortly, crossing her arms, looking away as he leaned his chin on one of her shoulders. "I am displeased to have that girl here. Hosting a Lannister is an invitation for conflict."
"But she is a joy," Oberyn laughed, fond of the girl in spite of all his misgivings. "Nothing like the rest of the cunts in her family-"
"A joy?" she asked incredulously, glancing at him briefly. "You had to chase after her this afternoon and rescue her! Her, and that Payne girl. There's too many of them!" She tried to throw Oberyn's hands off of her and pace, but her paramour caught her, trapping her inbetween his arms as he leaned his hands on the railing behind her. "If Doran wanted them here so badly he should make sure they aren't an imposition on us!"
"It was not an imposition to keep two young women from meeting an unfortunate end, my love." His words were stern, yet his face still held that easy smile; Oberyn was not one to be serious too easily. Ellaria was, though.
"Are you forgetting the end your sister met at the hands of Tywin Lannister, your beloved Myrcella's grandfather? Did anyone rescue Elia?" She nearly spit venom with those words, her lip pulling up on one side in a sneer. At this, Oberyn's mask did begin to crack, ever so slightly.
"I will never forget," Oberyn assured her, stepping away, finally letting her free, but not lifting his gaze from her face. "Would you have me punish two girls who had hardly been born when my family was broken, just for the sake of revenge?"
"Shouldn't someone pay?" There was a long stretch of silence between the two, before Oberyn's face softened once again, and he sighed.
"Have you looked at the way my brother and nephew lay eyes on those girls?" He chuckled slightly. "Trystane acts as if he's never met a more beautiful girl in all the world. And Doran…." He paused then. He hadn't wanted to give it much thought. He would have preferred to keep believing his brother was only keen to share a bed with a young Northerner, and that was it, but Oberyn was neither dumb nor blind. "…He looks at her as if she were the most fragile of flowers. Do you think I want to hurt my brother and his son, Ellaria? How do you think Doran would react if I were to have brought him a couple of corpses? He was livid at Lady Payne's meager cut alone-"
"He would get over it, they've hardly spoken." Ellaria dismissed the issue, rolling her eyes but Oberyn shook his head.
"That isn't Doran's way. Whether or not love factors into the equation is irrelevant, Doran feels such immense responsibility for those in his care. For Dorne, for us, and now for her. I didn't want to see two innocent girls hurt, but even if I had I wouldn't have let it happen." Ellaria fixed him with the most indignant stare she could muster, pissed that Oberyn was taking sides against her on this issue. "And I won't, not while I'm alive."
Ylsa was a bit shocked to find the man stationed outside her quarters, and as the man turned a kindly smile to her, her face lit up pink and she felt rather caught off guard.
"Lady Payne," he greeted, dipping his head slightly to her. Her mouth hung open for a minute as she processed what this man's presence here meant.
"You're…the Prince's Captain of the guard," was what Ylsa came up with finally, looking him up and down. "Has Prince Doran called for me?"
"Areo Hotah," the man introduced himself properly, his kind dark eyes amused at her flustered nature. "And no, My Lady. Prince Doran has asked that I keep you safe, personally. Seeing at Prince Oberyn is not available for guard duty." His voice was deep and not unkind, just the tone and timbre alone making Ylsa feel….more secure? It was certainly a comforting sort of voice. Never the less, it was still an embarrassing situation; the Prince, assigning his Captain to watch over her to keep her from running amuck again. It made her feel quite childish.
"I won't ever do anything like that again," she assured him, humiliated still from the previous day's 'excitement', but all Areo did was chuckle, shaking his head.
"My purpose isn't to keep you locked up. You're not a prisoner of House Martell, My Lady; you're a future member of it. But," Ylsa noticed his eyes squinted when he smiled, his cheeks pushing them up so they almost looked closed, "when you do regain your confidence and venture back out of the Palace walls, I'll be there to make sure the rest of Dorne understands just how protected and cherished you are by the Prince." This only caused Ylsa greater distress, as she turned away then, covering her face. She wanted to disappear.
"Father told me not to embarrass the name of Payne when I got here," she lamented, more to herself than to Areo, but he let out a loud, booming laugh then, reaching out and laying a hand on Ylsa's shoulder, unaffected by her heavy flinch.
"Child, you've embarrassed no one! Come now, who hasn't gotten themselves in a bit of trouble before? Life's no fun without adventure."
"But I'm a lady," Ylsa pointed out, peeking back at him through her fingers.
"So?"
"Ladies aren't supposed to have adventures…"
"And who says? Your father?" He fixed her with a knowing look, and all she did was shrug; her father, and just about every other man she'd ever met and been taught by in her life. "Perhaps that is the Northern way, Lady Payne. But in Dorne, things are different."
"So I've been seeing." Letting her hands slip from her face, she crossed them before herself, still feeling vaguely uncomfortable in her seafoam sheer gown. She let out a sigh, before looking at him once more. "He's not mad at me, is he?"
"Doran? You tell me, you were the last one he spoke to last night."
"He said he was sorry it had happened," she recounted, shrugging slightly. "Although I felt sort of like he was taking the words out of my mouth. But he didn't say too much more, and he didn't SEEM angry," she paused, pursing her lips. "But I can't read him very well. I don't really know what he was thinking."
"You'll find that's a common theme with Doran." Ylsa shuffled awkwardly as they stood outside her door, before the larger man motioned for her to continue on. "You were headed somewhere, My Lady?"
"Oh, I, uh….I was going to find Prince Oberyn," she admitted, looking rather bashful. "To apologize for causing him any trouble."
"Trust me, Oberyn relishes playing the hero," Areo chuckled, following alongside Ylsa as the two of them slowly made their way through the Palace. "But, in any case, Oberyn has left the palace early this morning with Lady Ellaria. He won't be back I assume until evening." Ylsa pursed her lips at that, pausing by an openface window, glancing at the colorful songbirds perched on the window outside.
"Oh. Well…..then I suppose I'd just like to look around the palace then," she said, resuming her pace. "I haven't really gotten the chance yet." Areo nodded once, staying quiet, and as they continued on, Ylsa grew a bit restless in the silence. She kept taking sidelong glances at him, and before too long, she was just bursting with the unvoiced questions on the tip of her tongue, and Areo could tell she was dying to speak.
"Speak up, child. You look like you're about to burst!"
"Er…." Ylsa deflated at that, red in the face at being so damn obvious about her inquisitiveness. Swallowing her habitual awkwardness, she tucked a few strands of loose hair behind her ear. "I…I wanted to ask you….you've been the Captain of Prince Doran's guard for a while, right?"
"Surely I have, My Lady."
"Do you mind if…if I ask you some questions about him?" Areo wondered when she'd finally start asking the real questions. He'd guessed she'd want to know as much, she was just so bashful about it! It was such a foreign way to be, the Dornishmen were never tight-lipped with anything. It was almost charming, in a silly way.
"Ask away," he said, that reassuring eye-squinting smile again.
"I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth," she assured him, fiddling her fingers, "but, I have to wonder….why would Prince Doran accept my father's offer? I'm just a Payne…..why would the Prince of Dorne accept such a lowly proposal?" Her question was in earnest, she was honestly curious, as this thought had been plaguing her mind for months, ever since her father had announced the betrothal. "Especially since Prince Trystane is marrying the Princess…"
"Has anyone ever told you that Tywin Lannister once wanted to marry his daughter Cersei to Doran at one point?" Areo chuckled at the slightly perturbed look Ylsa wore at that, continuing on. "It's true. But Doran had found himself in love with an Essosi woman; Mellario of Norvos. Doran was a young man, more like Oberyn then than he is now. And..he's Dornish, what can I say?" He shrugged." "Dorne doesn't much care for the traditions of Westeros, so while another Noble House's heir might've shirked love for duty, Doran was not the type to do so."
"I didn't know that….I knew he was married once before, but…." She stopped herself there, realizing her ignorance of Doran, and by extention Dorne's royal history made her seem uneducated. "Er…."
"I imagine Dornish history, even modern history isn't the first subject taught where you're from," Areo said, reassuring her. "But Doran has never been one to do anything he doesn't want to do. If he gets an idea in his head….well…." He glanced at Ylsa; even to Areo, one of Doran's closest friends and his valued guard, his reasoning was still foggy. "I can't give you a clear answer, child. Only Doran truly knows. But he's also not the type to make decisions flagrantly. He broke Westerosi tradition by marrying Mellario all those years ago, but he knew what he was doing. He put countless hours of thought into his decision. The Prince is stubborn, but not impulsive." The two of them had made their way down to the main courtyard; a large white marble fountain took up the center of the yard, while neatly manicured flower bushes and trees lined the sides. Straight across from them was an open archway into the West wing of the palace. Ylsa took a deep breath as she stepped out into the morning sun, for once not feeling so insufferably hot, but merely pleasantly warm. Areo watched her with an amused smile. "….You might ask him yourself, My Lady."
"What?" Turning then, Ylsa nearly laughed; ask Doran herself? What a ridiculous proposal! How would she ever have the guts to say more than a handful of words to him, let alone ask him such a heavy question? "I don't think I could! I hardly say anything when I'm around him."
"That won't do." Striding past her, Areo reached to pluck a flower from it's vine; it looked like some sort of lily, but the only lilies in the Westerlands were pure white; this one was as orange as a sunset. Turning to Ylsa, the man tucked the flower gently behind one of her ears. "He's going to be your husband! The two of you will need to talk eventually!"
"Father says husbands and wives don't really need to speak much more than to discuss baby names," she replied, laughing a bit at it, as the guard just shook his head, clucking his tongue.
"Maybe in the North. Doran cares more for conversation." Ylsa's half-hearted laughter died away, and she awkwardly avoided her guard's eyes. Looking around quickly, she hustled over to the fountain, sitting on the polished marble rim, looking into the water. Areo followed leisurely after her, sitting beside her.
"I don't have anything interesting to say to someone like him," she admitted, pressing her lips together into a thin line. "We're not going to be a very good match, I think…."
"I think you may be putting the horse before the cart, Lady Payne. How much do you know of Prince Doran yet?" His question was not accusatory, but she still felt a bit embarrassed by it.
"Not much," she relented.
"Then how can you be sure you wouldn't be a good match?"
"I'm so….plain." She shrugged. "He's so storied. Interesting. The only stories I have are of when I found a cat in the cellar and nursed it back to health. And besides….I'm not of a Noble House. Paynes are vassals."
"The Prince doesn't really care for titles anyway. And I know Doran better than anyone else. He'd listen to your stories as if they were the most interesting thing he'd ever heard. Give the Prince some credit, My Lady." Standing, just as a servant approached the two of them, handing Areo a message. "Speak of the devil," he chuckled, skimming over the message. "He's called for you."
"Doran?" Ylsa was on her feet immediately, fretting over her state of attire; her hair was down in her fashion from her home, and…she was a bit embarrassed to admit it, but walking around the bazaar all of yesterday had given her blisters on the back of her ankles, where the silken slippers hit her skin. She was so used to boots, that having a shoe so short was dreadfully uncommon for her, and as a result, had decided to go barefoot this morning to alleviate the pain. She hadn't thought she'd be seeing Prince Doran! And her dress reached the ground, so he likely wouldn't see her bare feet but…still! "Now? I should get ready-"
"You look lovely as you are," Areo assured her, offering her his arm, which she was hesitant to take. "Doran isn't some finicky King. He won't care if you aren't powdered and primped like they have them in King's Landing."
"…..I'm not wearing shoes," Ylsa admitted, listing her skirts just enough to reveal her bare feet, and Areo suddenly let out a boom of laughter, surprised but delighted by her hilarious secret.
"You're delightful, Lady Payne," he said, wiping his eyes as she looked on indignantly, finally accepting his arm, biting back a pout. "Prince Doran will be just as amused!"
"Don't tell him," she said, worrying her eyebrows together, eliciting more laughter. "It's not funny! What if he's offended?"
"Oh you have so much to learn about living in Dorne," he said as they made their way into the Northern wing of the palace.
"Lady Payne." Doran looked up as Areo announced Ylsa's arrival. Doran was seated in a highbacked armchair, looking over various correspondences as the two guests entered his study. Smiling as Ylsa formally curtsied. Motioning for her to take a seat on the settee adjacent to his chair, she obliged, as Areo nodded slightly, and exited to take up post outside the door. Setting the raven scrolls aside, he regarded his betrothed with a curious eye. "How are you this morning, Lady Payne?"
"I'm doing well," she answered, shifting a bit, getting comfortable. "Thank you."
"And your neck?" He motioned towards the minor cut she sported, but she just shook her head, smiling slightly.
"It's nothing, I assure you, my Prince."
"I told you, just Doran is fine," he reminded her, not unkindly. "I feel like hardly anyone regards me formally anymore, and I prefer it that way."
"Forgive me, it'll take getting used to," she admitted, shrugging and looking away. "The only person I've ever been truly informal with was my mother, it's just not how I was raised."
"…That's understandable." Doran sat back in his chair, leaning his chin in one hand as his elbow leaned on the armrest. "I can't ask you to change your ways overnight. But I will keep reminding you. There's no need to be formal with me."
"You call me Lady Payne," Ylsa pointed out, and immediately mentally chastised herself; what a snarky thing to say! She hadn't meant to be snarky! There she went again, her and her smart mouth! But Doran didn't react to it disfavorably, in fact, he smirked.
"Only because I am at a much higher risk of offending you than you are of offending me," he pointed out. "If you'd rather I call you Ylsa, I will." Ylsa had to admit, her name in his accent did sound rather nice…. She shrugged ambivalently.
"I have no preference," she said, still not meeting his intense gaze. "You can call me whatever you like, you're the Prince."
"I won't ever call you anything that makes you uncomfortable. ….Likewise, I'll never do anything that makes you uncomfortable." She seemed flustered at that statement. "It is your life, Lady Ylsa. You get to dictate what you want said and done to you." She left that statement hanging in the air for a bit, not quite knowing how to respond. That wasn't exactly a sentiment she was all that familiar with; all her life she'd been given directions and commands, and she just obeyed. Being given free reign with a statement like that was….a bit overwhelming.
"That's kind of you, Your- ….Prince Doran." She nodded slightly, looking up then. "I'm not very used to hearing things like that."
"Then I'm glad I can acclimate you to a life more to your liking. Everything IS to your liking, isn't it?" One side of his mouth quirked up into a smile as she finally met his eyes, keeping her gaze captive. "If anything, anything at all displeases you, please, tell me."
"No, of course not! Everything is wonderful!" She found herself unable to look away from him as he gazed at her, it gave her a weird feeling in her gut; not a bad feeling, just unusual. She'd never met a man who looked at her so brazenly. So intensely. It was a bit chilling, it sent a shiver up her spine. "…but thank you for asking."
"Of course." He nodded decisively. "I want you to always feel safe coming to me with your concerns and desires. I want you to be happy here, Lady Ylsa."
"I am!" she said, almost a bit indignantly. "I am happy! Truly, Prince Doran."
"Good." He finally broke their stare, to glance out the window briefly. "…I wanted to mention. I'll be visiting the Water Garden at week's end. In a normal circumstance, Prince Oberyn, Lady Ellaria, Trystane and Princess Myrcella would be joining me as well, but Oberyn and Ellaria must prepare for a voyage to the North in my stead, and Princess Myrcella's Septa has 'insisted' the Princess remain at the palace." He chuckled slightly, closing his eyes briefly. "That woman scares me sometimes….in any case, I wanted to ask you if you'd like to accompany me? If you've never seen the Water Gardens, they are a sight to behold." Looking to his betrothed, Ylsa thought she saw one of his eyebrows quirk up ever so slightly. "Of course, if you'd rather stay, I would not take offense."
"…I've only ever heard stories of the Water Gardens," Ylsa admitted, remembering a nearly-forgotten memory of her mother describing what the Garden supposedly looked like to her when she was quite small. "I would love to see it…thank you. …My handmaidens can come with me, right?"
"Of course! Anything for you, Lady Ylsa." Smiling kindly, he clapped his hands together once. "Then it's settled." His mood seemed to lift that that, and his face seemed a bit brighter, less broody. Ylsa realized that…perhaps he'd been worried she'd say no? That thought gave her the weird feeling in her gut again. But she didn't dislike the feeling. She nodded happily, realizing for once she wasn't twiddling her fingers or shuffling her feet. Sitting there with Doran, she realized for the first time around him, she wasn't nervous.
She hoped there were more moments like this between them in the future.