His daughters had been running about the manse for some time now, laughing and talking as if they had never been parted. He wanted to speak to Elle himself, inquire about what had happened to her, what had changed her this much. But he let them have their time. Gods knew it might be short.

He had been unprepared for the letter's arrival, yet had never doubted it. Still, to read Elle's words was one thing, to see her standing in the flesh before him had knocked the breath out of him in a far different way. Especially to see her so… destroyed.

Ellaria sat down in the chair beside him, poured herself a cup of tea, and simply watched the girls in quiet.

"They look happy."

Oberyn nodded slowly. "Elle told her the truth."

His paramour cocked her head, her curly hair catching onto the intricate embroidery on her dark red dress.

He had told her who Elle truly was after she had disappeared, having broken down one evening and confessed everything to her. Upon which she had told him she had expected something of the like. She, after all, had been with him in Braavos when he had found Elle, and had thought it strange he had found a supposed daughter of his this quickly, yet had not questioned him, too big was her trust in him.

"They've always been close. It was to be expected that not even this could separate them."

He could do little but agree. "Even had we not introduced them, they would have found each other."

Even if Elle had grown up in King's Landing. Some things were destined to happen.

He wondered if her growing up with him was one of those things. Looking back at their first meeting, he wondered how he had found her at all on some days. That she would steal from him of all people in the crowd, that he would manage to follow her in the depths of winter to that abandoned building, that he would be able to convince her to come with him. Finding out who she was had not been difficult. A Westerosi girl with light blonde hair and striking blue eyes would have roused suspicions either way, but then she had simply said her name outright when he had asked, the urge to lie in such a situation apparently not born to her.

"Where do we go from here?"

He knew what Ellaria was referring to - the missing princess was back in her city, hiding with a family despised by its rulers, and it was only a matter of time until someone recognised her. Alienating Elle once more was not a risk he was willing to take, so they needed to ask her what she wanted to do. It was time she used the skills he had taught her.

"I will have my justice."

That he had started caring for the granddaughter of the man he despised most of all had not been part of his plan, and he sometimes wished he had never gone to Braavos with Ellaria. But then he would have never met his little sunshine, and she might have frozen in the icy wastes. She would understand, he knew. He had raised her to be kind, think of others, fight against injustice, and be wary of the effects the game of thrones had on the less fortunate. Elle above all else would understand the need to kill Tywin Lannister.

"You cannot change the past, Oberyn. At some point you have to ask yourself if it is still worth it. And if you are willing to sacrifice that which you hold most dear."

A loud splash, followed by Elia shouting obscenities across the courtyard.

"Mind your tongue!" Ellaria commanded as their daughter rose from the fountain.

Elle laughed, and then screamed when Elia started hunting her up the balcony.

It was a game between the two girls, one they had been playing since the very beginnings of their friendship - who could manage to throw the other into the water the most often. They had long lost count over who was leading.

His other daughters had gotten into the crossfire of their war on some occasions, as had his niece and nephews, visiting nobles, and of course he himself. Doran had tried stopping them - this water game and many other terrorisations of their palaces - yet it had had no use. Nothing and no one could stop the combined force of Elia and Elle.

The latter currently climbed one of the trees growing in the courtyard, swinging from branch to branch as if she were a monkey.

It had been a challenge trying to teach her anything remotely connected to politics or courtly life. This - climbing, swimming, even fighting sometimes - had been easy, but proper eticette? Taxes and laws? Relations between the great houses and the intricacies of war? Forget about it.

But he had held on, and eventually managed to trick her into attending her lessons. Mainly by disguising it as something else, sending ladies her gaze had rested on a moment too long with her, or promising certain things to her. Mainly adventures, yet sometimes even things as simple as a new painting.

Elle lounged in the tree, seemingly quite content with Elia not being able to reach her.

As he watched her sit there, hands gripping her thighs tighter than normal, he could not help feeling sad. Gone was the carefree little girl he had raised. In her place, the gods had returned to him a woman grown, who had experienced all the horrors and delights their world had to offer. No amount of smiles and laughter could hide the fear in her eyes.

What could have possibly damaged his resilient little sunshine so thoroughly?

"Elle needs new clothes," he told his paramour as he gently traced her knuckles. "And a bath."