When the Prince had asked Jaime to meet him in the training yard, the younger knight accepted with a certain pride. He was already one of the best swords in the Seven Kingdoms, and he had won many tourneys and melees. He had faced the Smiling Knight, living to tell the tale, and he would not be afraid of Oberyn Martell. When the Prince walked into the yard wearing only a light leather armour, however, the son of Tywin Lannister was puzzled.

While Jaime donned the shining golden plates he had grown accustomed to, the Dornish Prince was clad in silks and supple leather, eight feet of spear in his hand and barely any metal to protect him. He is going to be faster than me, but one blow will be enough. Did the man think so lowly of him? Maybe he underestimated me, he thought, and promised himself that he would make the man regret his arrogance.

It did not take long before Jaime understood why the Prince had chosen such armour for that training. Fighting against Oberyn Martell was frustrating to say the least, Jaime realized as he was kept at distance by the other man's spear. Every time he felt sure that his blow had hit its target, he found himself some inches too far away from his opponent. The Prince was shorter than him, but the spear was perfect to make up for that difference.

A matter of minutes, and the younger knight was breathing heavily, his brow covered in sweat as he cooked in his armour. The dornish sun was inclement above the training yard, shining on the golden plates and making them as hot as a furnace. Now he understood why the squire who had helped him to prepare for the fight had suggested him a lighter protection instead of metal. He had been a fool not to listen to him.

The fighting was stopped when the heat was too much for Jaime to handle, and the younger knight had to take a couple of steps back. He felt his head light, his vision becoming blurry, and for a moment he thought that he was going to faint. The Prince gestured for the squire to come into the yard, putting a bit of distance between him and his opponent, and the boy offered Jaime fresh water.

"You fought well."Oberyn complimented him, removing his helmet and using the sleeve to dry the sweat from his brow. At least I made him sweat.

"If not for the heat, I would have beaten you." Jaime protested, taking off his helmet as well. He drank a mouthful of water, allowing the fresh liquid to quench his thirst and wash down the dust from his mouth. It was a blessing, after the heat of the sun, but he forced himself not to seem too eager.

"But we are in Dorne, boy. Better get used to it." Jaime could not say he was used to be called boy. He was a full grown man, a knight, and no one in King's Landing dared to call him boy anymore. Before he could complain, however, someone else's voice reached his ears.

"No need to brag, brother." Jaime knew the voice, and turned to see Elia sitting on a bench in the yard. Suddenly, he felt ashamed that she had seen the whole fight. Oberyn just rolled his eyes, giving the spear over to his squire, and walked towards his sister.

It was the first time Jaime had seen her outside since they had arrived. Usually, she lived as retired as she could, for fear that someone would see her. The travel had tired her, and she was still recovering from all that had happened, but it seemed that being back to her home had a good effect on her. She looked less pale, and there was the hint of a smile on her features as she spoke to her brother. The clothes she wore now suited her more than the gowns she preferred in King's Landing, bright colours and light fabrics to bring out the olive tone in her skin.

"I was just having fun, sister." The two were close, that was one of the first things Jaime had learnt since his arrival in Dorne. Not as close as me and Cersei, though. Elia crossed her arms at her chest, turning her head towards Jaime.

"My brother does not know when to keep his tongue in his mouth. Sorry for that." Oberyn stifled a chuckle, and was about to say something, but Elia shot him a glare that convinced him to stay silent. Jaime accepted the apology, allowing himself to feel envious of the bond the two shared for just a moment.

A few hours and a refreshing bath later, he was ready to dine with the rest of the family. Though he was still not comfortable with the Dornish clothing they had given him, at least he had to admit that the company was pleasant. The biggest danger at Doran Martell's table was eating a dish too spicy for his tastes, and even after a few weeks Jaime was cautious with what he put in his mouth. He could not count the times he had eaten something so hot that he felt like his mouth was on fire, and the whole table had laughed at the scene.

The dinners were always pretty private, only for the closest members of the family. One table was reserved for the adults, Doran and his wife Mellario, Elia and Oberyn, with his paramour always by his side. At another table sat the children, six years old Arianne and Oberyn's four bastard daughters, as different from each other as the sun from the moon. Rhaenys had insisted to sit with the other children as well, while Aegon was too young to complain about such things. Quentyn had thrown a fit, from what Jaime had heard, but the both of them spent the evenings in the playroom with the wet nurse.

Only a few servants were employed to serve the dishes, Jaime noticed. It was crucial to keep Elia's presence as hidden as possible, and Areo Hotah supervised every movement of those who had access to the room. Jaime had also noticed a man whose duty was to taste the dishes that would be served, and he could not blame them for the prudence. No doubt Robert wants their heads, and mine as well. Yet, he did not fear for himself, and did not feel regret for what he had done.

At first, being in Dorne had been difficult. Everything was so different from what he knew, and he had missed his home. He was not used to people speaking their minds so freely, and the behaviours he saw would have been condemned in every other city of the Seven Kingdoms. Yet, in Sunspear it looked like everyone was free to live their own life, from the Prince to the lowest of the peasants, as long as they accepted the consequences of their choices.

Even if he was not allowed to leave the palace for fear of being recognized, Jaime did not get bored. When she felt good enough, Elia walked with him in the corridors, showing him the ancient seat of House Martell and telling him about their culture. Sometimes Oberyn joined them, adding spice to the stories, and the moments when her brother was with her were the only ones where Areo Hotah dared to relax.

When Elia's health was not good enough for her to rise from the bed, Jaime used the time to train in the yard. He got used to the lighter leather armours that were used in Dorne, and got better with the spear, even if his longsword was still his weapon of choice.

It did not take long, however, before he started missing what he left behind. He did not care for Casterly Rock and his father, or for his sworn brothers of the Kingsguard, but he did miss his sister, and little Tyrion as well. The news of Cersei's marriage to Robert Baratheon had reached as far as Dorne, and Jaime could not say he had been happy to hear the news. Soon she will give him an heir. He did not blame her, but it still made him want to take a good horse and ride back to King's Landing to slit Robert's throat.

Sometimes he embraced the idea to ride to the capital in secret and smuggle Cersei away, bringing her to Dorne with him. She would like it here, he thought, maybe we could even marry. As fast as it had formed, however, the prospect vanished, and he found himself so many miles away from what once had been his whole life.

Author notes:

Here is a transition chapter set in Dorne! Not much happens in this chapter, but I used it to show Jaime's life in Sunspear, and I hope you can enjoy it! Sorry for the small delay in updating, but yesterday I had no access to computer at all so... Stay tuned for next chapter next Saturday, and thank you for sticking with this story!