Consequences had never truly been something he considered. At least not to himself. So as he stood above the lifeless body of the Mountain, watching the blood seep from the stump, the fact he had just killed his supposed opponent in Lord Tyrion's trial did not even enter his mind. Instead, he dropped his sword, and ran towards his daughters.

Elia trembled, tears running out of her eyes, yet she seemed alright so far. Elle however…

Everything was covered in blood, her face, her hands, her torn dress, her necklace, even the ground beneath her. The ugly red substance spread and spread, drops falling into the fountain and threatening to taint the water irreversibly. Her body laid still, no movement except for-

Yes, her chest was rising and falling. Shallowly, and without rhythm, but still.

"We can fix her, can't we?"

Elia's shaky voice broke through his terror, and as if stabbed by a scorpion he jumped up, his daughter in his arms, and started running towards his healer.

He himself had studied at the citadel, therefore he knew how untrustworthy maesters were in almost any regard. Besides, they were not even the best at their craft, despite claiming otherwise. And so he had developed the habit of always taking a personal healer with him whenever he travelled.

The healer he ran to now was a dark-skinned woman named Lauren, who kept her long hair in small braids so as to not have it interfere with her work, as she claimed.

She already stood in the door of her chambers, confusion quickly turning to horror to determination on her face as she beheld him and the thi- his daughter in his arms. Mere moments later he was able to lay her down on a table, and then Lauren set to work.

He had seen to it that she had everything she could possibly need in this little room, not willing to cause any kind of speculation while in the realm of his enemies. So the only thing she sent for was water. Warm, but not hot. He knew he should assist her in some way, help in pulling his daughter from the brink of death, yet he simply stood there unmovingly.

Lauren wiped the blood from Elle's face. It did not look all that terrible now, once he realised it was a mere small cut that had disfigured her so.

"My prince, may I ask you to assist with this?"

It took some time until the words had registered with him, but when they did he quickly stepped up to the table and held down a piece of fabric on the cut while Lauren wound a bandage around Elle's head to secure it in place. It likely was nothing more than a placeholder, a way to keep the wound clean while she looked at more serious injuries.

"We need to turn her around."

He helped her with this as well, and as she cut Elle's dress, he realised why first the ground and now the table had gotten soaked with blood.

A giant wound ran from her right shoulder all the way to her left hip. The skin had been torn apart, revealing the bright flesh beneath, and perhaps even some bones.

He had rarely felt as helpless as in this moment. It brought back the memory of when he had found out about his sister's murder. What was he meant to do against wounds and injuries? He only dealt them out, not healed them.

After emptying a whole pitcher across Elle's back, Lauren's quick and deft fingers spread some strange green paste across the open skin.

"It is an older wound that has now reopened," the healer said almost matter-of-factly. As if that wasn't his daughter currently bleeding out on her table.

"How old?" he asked with a shaky voice.

"Two weeks, maybe three. Difficult to say." She handed him a scrap of cloth soaked in water. "For your arms."

In that moment he noticed for the first time all the blood that had covered his arms and upper body. None of it was his, and when at other times he might have been glad - even ecstatic - about it, this time it merely filled him with sadness. And anger.

Ellaria laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "How could she have suffered a wound like that? Two weeks ago she was still travelling."

Aye. Travelling to come meet them. Such an injury could only have been brought on by a sword, and the only opportunity for that to-

"The Red Wedding."

The words had left his mouth before he could stop them, and Ellaria's gasp was enough to settle any doubts about this horrifying thought. Before she could inquire more, however, a man with copper hair and a golden cloak around his shoulders entered the chamber.

"My prince, I am Lord Addam Marbrand, Commander of the City Watch. I would like to talk to you about what happened with the Mountain."

"Truly? How fitting." Oberyn threw the bloody cloth to the floor. "Because I, too, would like to talk about what happened with the Mountain." He walked towards the man. "How come I am woken up in the early hours of the day to find that creature attacking my daughters within my own home? And how come one of those daughters is now fighting for her life? You as Commander of the City Watch are meant to prevent such things from happening!"

Addam Marbrand had the good grace to look ashamed.

(Marbrand. A Lannister vassal.)

"My prince, I can do little but apologise for what has occurred today, and I would like your help in finding out why it happened. My men are already making preparations to remove Ser Gregor from your home, and I plan to inform Lord Tywin right after this."

"Lord Tywin," he hissed, "is the reason this happened in the first place. He let the Mountain run wild, turning him into a rabid beast not even him could control."

The Commander bent his brow, then his gaze moved past Oberyn.

Elia had taken up his place by the table as Lauren worked, staring down at her sister, hands curled tightly around Elle's wrist as if that mere contact was enough to keep her tied to this world.

"She is your daughter?" Addam Marbrand asked.

"They both are."

Yet he knew the man only had eyes for Elle, no matter how much he would try to divert the conversation.

"She seems so familiar. I feel like I should know her."

"Unlikely. She has neither been to King's Landing nor the Westerlands."

The lies rolled easily off his tongue. Partly because of years of repeating them, partly because lying simply came natural to him.

"What happened?" Oberyn asked.

Addam Marbrand ripped his eyes off Elle, still lying deathly still on the table while Lauren worked on her, and turned back towards Oberyn. "I had just started my morning patrol when I happened upon the Mountain and her. He had already wounded her, and I assume was about to kill her when I stepped in. While arguing your daughter managed to crawl away and towards this manse, and once the Mountain had noticed he chased after her, and we him. That is how we ended up in your home. Your other daughter-" He nodded towards Elia- "fought him bravely, yet was no match for his brutality. And then you arrived."

Oberyn pondered the man's words. "Where did this attack on my daughter happen?"

"About three houses away."

A mere three houses? There had to be something more to the story. Not even the Mountain could be idiotic enough to attack a woman on the King's Way, surrounded by guards on all sides. And Elle's injuries were too scattered, too arbitrary, too diverse to have been caused by a single attacker.

"Anything else?" he asked Addam Marbrand more harshly than might have been needed.

"No, my prince. I shall go and inform Lord Tywin now."

Lord Tywin. Despite Oberyn's happiness over finally having defeated the Mountain, it was overshadowed by the realisation that he now had nothing to implicate the Old Lion in his sister's death. No one to tell him the unfettered truth about his involvement.

He watched Lauren work in silence. Ellaria brought him a robe as he refused to move from his daughter's side. Same as Elia. He was barely able to swallow the stew the servants brought to the room. All he could do was stare at the cuts on Elle's face and stomach and arm, the wound on her back, the broken ankle, the bruises littering her body and wonder why he had not been able to protect her.

At some point, one of the guards entered the chamber and said, "Tywin Lannister is here to speak with you."

All he responded was, "If the man does not leave my home soon, I will place his head on a spike above the gate."

Ellaria guided the guard outside, and stayed gone for a while. He knew she was talking to Tywin in his place, and he felt comforted by it. His love had a way with words even he was unable to match - she would know what to say to get the man to leave.

Eventually, sometime before noon, Lauren told him she was finished.

Elle was wrapped in metres upon metres of sterile, white bandages, looking so out of place against her bloodied and dirtied dress and her skin that had not been properly cleaned yet. Her chest moved almost unnoticeable, yet the rest of her body laid still.

"She will survive, will she not?" It was the first time Elia had spoken since they entered the room.

"It is a miracle her heart is still beating," Lauren said. "Now all we can do is hope."

Oberyn carried his daughter to her room - still a mess from her nightly outbreak - and laid her on her bed. He pulled the blanket up to her chest and went about finding himself a place to sit.