///Apologies!!///
It's been a long time since I last uploaded a chapter... and I don't even remember how long.
I used to hate people who left their stories unfinished for prolonged periods of time (GRRM, I am looking at you!), and now I have become someone like that... sigh...
But unlike the great writer, I did not stop due to something like writer's block, but because of an unfortunate accident.
It happened around 11 pm at night.
I was sitting on a bike, behind my idiotic little brother, who simply did not understand the concept of driving at a speed lower than 80 kmph. He never listened to me, no matter how many times I scolded him for his reckless driving, always replying that, 'It'll be alright. that he had never been in an accident ever, so he knew what he was doing,'
And as the wise one once said, 'if you walk along the river long enough, you are bound to get your feet wet eventually,'
And on that day, my brother learned a precious lesson in driving cautiously, but unfortunately for me, I was taken along for the ride.
Thankfully, the hole we hit was not bigger than half a meter, so we weren't flung too far away.
My brother got away with minor scratches and a minor leg fracture, while I was unlucky enough to land on my right hand and had three of my fingers severely fractured.
Without the use of my fingers, I was like a clever housewife without any rice...
And so that was the story of why I had been away from my story for so long, as I literally could not type, no matter how much I wanted to.
Now, after months of rehabilitation, I feel like I am ready to dive back into this story, and while I may be a little rusty for a while, I will try my best to give you the most interesting piece of fiction that I can.
So I hope you all can find it in your big hearts to forgive me for all the delays, and send me some luck so that I don't get into another accident like that and write for the long haul this time
///
The sun hung low in the sky, its golden rays painting the desert sands in hues of amber and crimson.
A cloud of dust rose in the distance, stirred by the thundering hooves of fifteen horses, their riders galloping toward the castle.
"A-An attack!" a young guard cried out, panic creeping into his voice as he pointed a trembling finger at the approaching dust cloud.
"You idiot!" a veteran standing beside him scoffed, cuffing the boy on the head. "Look closer. Those are our people." He then turned and bellowed toward the walls, "Open the gates! Prince Oberyn is back!"
"The prince?" The green recruit blinked, his voice filled with awe. "Is it really him? The Red Viper?" He had only joined the guards a few days ago, so he had not had the chance to see the famous second prince of Dorne.
"Yes, it is, and if he sees that dumb look on your face, he will have you sent straight to the Sept— and to be honest, you'd fit right in amongst the Silent Sisters," he guffawed, sending the rest of the guards into fits of laughter.
"Welcome back, Prince Oberyn." A tall, broad-shouldered man in a finely embroidered tunic stepped forward the moment Oberyn dismounted, "I presume you managed to find the bandits,"
"Oh, yes," Oberyn nodded, unwrapping the yellow sandcloak from his face, "The lot thought themselves cunning and hid inside an abandoned watchtower. They were using a half-collapsed passage underneath to come and go... but sadly for them, the tunnel wasn't as secret as they thought," he finished with a smirk.
"Yes, quite unfortunate," The Steward of the castle replied dryly, as the man knew that few people in Dorne knew secret hideouts better the prince who in his younger spent more time outside the castle than inside "I have asked the cooks to prepare your usual meal, which should take about half an hour, so I presume you want to take a bath while you wait."
"That would be perfect... unless you have any documents or letters for me to see," he asked, not being subtle about his hope that the answer would be a no.
"No, fortunately not," the man replied in an amused voice, "Prince Doran has already taken care of that,"
"Brother is here?" Oberyn said in a surprised tone, his eyes automatically turning towards the tower of the sun, where the seat of the Prince of Dorne lay.
"Yes, he has been here for more than a week now. Something about wanting to..." The Steward hesitated for a moment before he replied, "...take a walk."
"I see," Oberyn answered with a raised eyebrow before he nodded and took off, leaving the steward to deal with his men.
The castle of Sunspear was located on the lower end of the Broken Arm, a place which, according to the legend, was created alongside the Stepstones, when the children of the forest broke the bridge, connecting Essos and Westeros, using their Hammer of Waters.
The castle was located north of the Greenblood River and was surrounded on three sides by the open sea, and on its fourth side lay the famous Shadow City.
It took him ten minutes before Oberyn entered the castle proper of the Old Palace, and from there he had to go through a lot of winding hallways, climb at least five flights of stairs and pass through three different sentries before he finally entered the path leading to his Brother's solar.
And as he had expected, standing right outside the door guarding his brother was his ever dutiful guard, Areo Hotah, a man who was more loyal to his brother than his own wife.
"Tell me, Aero, when do you even find the time to take a shit if you stay stuck to my brother everytime I see you," Oberyn asked cheekily, in lieu of greeting, but he was also genuinely curious as he had never seen the Norvosi warrior more than a few feet away from his brother no matter the time of the day.
"...Sometime during the night," The taciturn man answered with a twitch of his eyebrow before he opened the door behind him, letting his master's brother step in.
Oberyn rolled his eyes at the non-answer, but he nonetheless entered the room without harassing the man any further.
Inside, he found his brother hard at work reading some trade documents while also having his meal at the same time.
"Oh, that is some appalling food, brother," Oberyn snorted in amusement as he looked at the bland spread of boiled vegetables and juice laid in front of the Prince of Dorne, who used to live for strong spicy meat dishes and sweet wine.
"Don't jest at the expense of the poor and helpless," Doran replied without looking up, "Didn't our mother teach you that, brother?"
"Ah, I must have been away during that particular lesson," Oberyn replied with a smirk as he fell onto the chair on the opposite side of his brother and began closely scrutinising his face, "You seem to be in remarkably better spirits than the last time I saw you,"
"That is what most people have been telling me," Doran answered with a shrug, but no matter how much he tried, he could not suppress the pleased smile on his face.
"So the cure is working then, huh," Oberyn said as he leaned back with a thoughtful look on his face, "I wanted to visit you in the water gardens before but could never find the time..."
"Do not worry," Doran replied with a wave of his hand, "I know that you have been very busy since you came back, dealing with all the bad elements surrounding Shadow city," he said with a curious look on his face, "Though, I did not know you felt so strongly about improving trade routes..."
'There was nothing better than constant life and death battles to sharpen one's mind and spirit,' but of course, Oberyn could not tell that to his brother, as it would raise questions such as, Why are you sharpening your skills? Who are you going to kill? So instead, he simply replied, "I was just bored, so I thought, why not..."
"Oh."
"So how much of a difference did the cure make?" Oberyn asked casually, trying to make his brother move on from the topic.
"You tell me," Doran smiled as he pushed back his wheelchair and came out from behind the table and openly showing off his legs that he usually kept hidden beneath a blanket.
The moment he glanced at his brother's legs, Oberyn's eyes widened in shock, so drastic were the changes.
He had expected some improvement after seeing his brother's good mood, but this... this was just too miraculous.
The swollen feet that had become discoloured and misshaped due to the severity of the gout, the knotted toes that had become twisted and grotesquely enlarged, and the dark, ugly, red spots that were almost on the verge of bursting... all these serious symptoms had been reduced to barely ten percent of their original severity, which seemed almost like... magic.
His brother's feet now looked... normal.
///