Chapter 4
~Oberyn Martell~
That is not Soves.
There was a dragon flying over Sunspear and it wasn't the undead one that Oberyn was familiar with.
At least it isn't roaring and panicking the smallfolk like Soves did.
In fact, the dragon was just flying in place over the battlements of the Old Palace, which was where Oberyn was currently running towards. He could see a group of guardsmen gathered together, while some had their bows out, none where aiming at the beast.
Just because Soves was peaceful doesn't mean this dragon will be, they should be wary!
Hurrying up the stairs, Oberyn saw that it was not only guards atop the walls, but multiple servants as well as Arianne and her friends.
Along with several of my daughters.
"What is going on?" Oberyn shouted. "Why are you all standing around when there's a dragon above us?"
"Uncle, look what Lord Torrhen made!" Arianne said happily, holding up something in her hand.
As he approached, Oberyn saw his niece held a string that extended upwards towards the dragon.
"It's a rather impressive toy, Prince Oberyn," one of the guards said. "It looks like a real dragon up there."
Oberyn pointed up at the dragon flying overhead. "Wait, that's a toy?"
Torrhen's voice rumbled from somewhere deeper in the group. "I'm sure nobles all over Westeros will want one in a couple years. I call it a kite."
Looking up at the dragon with a more critical eye, now that his heart wasn't racing, Oberyn realized he could tell it wasn't a true dragon. It wasn't anywhere near as large as Soves, being only the size of a small horse. And while it had large wings stretched out on both sides, they didn't change position as the dragon altered in flight.
The crowd parted as Oberyn slowly walked forward, his attention split between the dragon above and his destination. Eventually, he came up to Torrhen who was sitting down, leaning against the wall of the battlement, shielded from the sun by the angle of the shade. Despite this, he was still covered up by the modified maester robes he'd been gifted.
"Quite the crowd of looky loos showed up once I got it in the air. I was only testing it out but then the kids showed up so I decided to let them play with it," Torrhen explained to Oberyn's wordless question. "Which reminds me, Arianne! I think your turn is up, pass the kite over to someone else."
Oberyn heard his niece groan behind him, but she dutifully gave it up, to Nymeria from the sound of it. Oberyn was about to continue the discussion with Torrhen when he realized he was still surrounded by a large group of smallfolk that probably had jobs they were supposed to be doing. After he loudly pointed that out, the vast majority left.
"So," Oberyn asked as walked over to Torrhen. "How did you make that?"
"Largely, I didn't. It was primarily the work of a carpenter and a seamstress down in the city, which I charged to your brother by the way. Not like I brought my coin pouch with me when I flew down here."
Oberyn laughed as he leaned against the battlement. "We paid to have all that Kingsguard armor repaired and altered, what's a little more money between friends?"
His head is right next to my crotch. Hmmm. No no, don't get distracted by sexy thoughts.
"I'll pay you back at some point. Might take a few years until I get the Dreadfort's finances stable, but I'll do it. I don't like owing people money."
"Good to know, but don't worry about it over much. We can afford it." Oberyn craned his neck to look up at the kite flying above them. "Did you have to make it a dragon? Why not a bird? That'd be less likely to cause a stir."
"That's why I made it a dragon. Need an excuse for the rest of Westeros to latch onto when they hear the stories about a dragon flying over Sunspear." Torrhen's voice was thick with sarcasm as he said, "It won't fool people that saw Soves, but who in King's Landing will believe the Dornish? Y'all a bunch of untrustworthy sluts."
Oberyn considered the explanation. "Does that mean you don't plan on showing Soves to all of Westeros? You're not going to fly to King's Landing?"
"That would just paint a giant target on my back. Well, an even bigger target."
"True, you saved noblewomen on both sides of the war. That's going to arouse suspicion and interest in equal amounts."
"Yeah, I'm probably going to have to meet Robert and Jon Arryn, at the very least. Get wined and dined, have single women thrown at me." Torrhen sighed. "I'd just as soon avoid the capital and go straight to the North but there's no way that wouldn't be suspicious."
"As you yourself pointed out, the King and your brother are quite close. Surely you'll be able to use that to your advantage, to leave quickly if nothing else."
"Possibly. But it's also possible Robert will want to bond with me, form the same kind of relationship he has with Ned, he might not want to let me leave until we're friends."
"You realize most people in Westeros would happily kill you to be in that position, right? For the king to want to be their friend? Why are you making it seem like a punishment?"
Not that Oberyn didn't have his own reasons for disliking the Baratheon. From what Oberyn had heard, the king hated all Targaryens and that included Elia and Rhaenys, which meant that as long as the man sat on the Iron Throne, Oberyn's family could be in danger.
"It's not the king specifically that I want to avoid, I just don't want to be in King's Landing. It's a nest of vipers, I don't have a power base to back me up, and much like the rest of the southern kingdoms it's too damn sunny. Not to mention I want as few people as possible learning about my. . . condition."
"Your brother is a Lord Paramount and friend of the king, you've saved the lives of my sister and niece who were part of the royal family. I can understand your desire to remain hidden but it is not realistic."
Torrhen was silent. Rather than prod him to keep talking, Oberyn decided to let the Northerner be alone with his thoughts for the moment.
When he wants my advice I'll happily offer it, but not before. Unasked for opinions are rarely helpful.
Oberyn watched his daughter pull the string of the kite left and right, steering the kite through the air while the other children cheered.
Why did he call it a kite? After the bird presumably, but it doesn't look like anything like a kite. Granted, he said it looks like a dragon on purpose so does that mean it normally looks like a bird? Then again, it's just cloth and wood, you could probably make that look like anything you want. Every house in the Seven Kingdoms could have their own personalized kite to show off their sigil. Question is, would I want a viper or a spear for mine? Hmmm.
Oberyn's thoughts wandered from a kite for himself to personalized kites for each of his daughters. They would be good name-day presents. The issue with that is his daughters with name-days further away would likely not be patient waiting for their own kites when their sisters received theirs.
"What if I wasn't Ned's brother?" Torrhen asked, breaking Oberyn from his thoughts.
"What do you mean?"
"What if I wasn't Torrhen Stark? He died from grey plague at the Dreadfort. What if I was Torrhen Snow, bastard from across the sea?"
Oberyn had several questions he wanted to ask but he decided to only voice one to start. "Why would you be a Snow if you were from Essos?"
"I look and talk like a Northerner, I could never pass for someone from the Free Cities. But if I claimed to be a former sellsword from the Company of the Rose. . ." Torrhen trailed off and looked up at Oberyn. "It could maybe work, right?"
"The group was founded by Northerners fleeing Westeros, true. But that doesn't mean they've maintained blood purity since then. It would actually be rather stupid to do so, given the attrition mercenary companies typically have to deal with." Oberyn paused. "Still, I'm sure some of the membership can trace their lineage back to the founders so it could work as a cover story. Once you start a mummer's farce of that size you'll have to stick with it regardless of whether or not your feelings in the future change. Are you sure you want to do it?"
"Yeah," Torrhen said, nodding his head. "I've got a lot of magic to study and only so long to do it, I want to minimize the political peacocking I'll have to deal with."
Only so long to study magic? What does he mean by that? Will he stop when he gets married? Has an heir? Or was it something else?
Oberyn regarded the covered man out of the corner of his eye. Torrhen's hands were pale, as was the skin around his eyes, but the rest was hidden by the robes. While he had initially attributed that to Torrhen being a Northerner, Oberyn was reconsidering that opinion. Neither of the other two Stark siblings looked that white. In fact, the person whose skin was closest in color to Torrhen's was probably Arthur Dayne.
Two men that can get up and move around despite being dead. Torrhen did describe himself as 'a corpse sustained by blood and magic.' Just what does that entail? Will the magic fail eventually? Is that what he's worried about?
Oberyn realized that hitching his family's preverbal wagon to Torrhen's horse might not work out well for them in the long term if they didn't get more information out of the Northerner.
Magic is a sword without a hilt, after all. Just how long before Torrhen cuts himself? Or has he already done so and is now looking for a way to heal the wound? Hmm, I may need to track down those books of magic I read in Qohor, refresh my knowledge. Will be a bit harder this time though since I doubt Master Nutchapol is still alive.
Heavy footsteps drew Oberyn from his thoughts. Walking up the staircase was-
Others take me, that's a big fellow.
Oberyn, like most people in the Seven Kingdoms, had heard of the Mountain That Rides. He had seen the Mountain's corpse when Torrhen had requested they put the body in temporary storage. But it was something entirely different when the Mountain was standing next to him, looming over Oberyn like a parent to a misbehaving child.
"Yes, Krell?" Torrhen asked.
"Lady Lyanna has been secured in her coffin and is ready for transport, sir."
"Good, you and Oswell have enough supplies to take her North?"
"It took the lives of several of the prisoners, but we have enough blood for the trip, assuming a storm doesn't blow the ship off course."
"You can probably stretch it if you have to, don't let her out as often and she should sleep more." When the big man didn't respond, Torrhen continued. "In that case, you have my permission to leave. Be safe, don't kill Lyanna and make sure she doesn't kill anyone."
The Mountain gave a nod of his head and walked off.
"I can understand why you wanted the Kingsguard armor altered, the shining white is very noticeable after all, by why didn't you want Clegane's armor fixed? The hole in the chest rather draws the eye." Oberyn paused in thought for a moment. "Also, did you call him Krell?"
"To answer the first question, the Mountain is so big that trying to pretend he's someone else would be pointless. It wouldn't fool anyone so why waste time and your money fixing it? Also it's nice to have a reminder that I did it, even if doing that did pulverize all the bones in my hand at the time. To answer the second, because I don't like him. I don't want to have to say 'Clegane' or 'Gregor' for the rest of my life so he gets a nickname. Word disassociation."
"And you trust him? The Kingsguard were one thing but this. . ."
Torrhen sighed. "Truth be told, I'm not sure if I do. If he were mindless like Soves that would be one thing but my wights have some degree of free will. My magic is what sustains him, and I can somewhat control him, so I think he's loyal. It's just another reason I want to get back North, so I can try to study all this. I am woefully uninformed about a lot of my magic."
"When you put it that way, I can understand why you would prefer to skip King's Landing."
Torrhen nodded but didn't say anything further. The two men lapsed into silence, watching the children play with the kite. Oberyn wasn't sure exactly how much time had passed but at some point Arianne wandered over.
"Lord Torrhen, that dragon is amazing! Will you be making more?"
"I will not but then I didn't really make that one. I can give you the name of the pair that actually made it before I leave for King's Landing. Then you can talk to your father about having your own personal kite made."
While Oberyn had expected Arianne to get excited about the idea of having her own kite, he was surprised when she chose a different part of Torrhen's words to focus on. "You're going to King's Landing? Why? Do you not like it here?"
"I do like Sunspear," Torrhen said kindly. "But only as a place to visit, I could never live here long term. It's too sunny, my skin burns easily. I want to go back home, to the North. But I have to stop in King's Landing to meet the new king first since, well, he's the king."
"But I thought that's what your robes were for," Arianne argued with a pout.
"They make it so the sun is not painful, mostly. But it's still uncomfortable." When Arianne's expression didn't change, Torrhen kept talking. "It's not like I'm walking out of your lives, we can send letters to each other if you'd like. Once I get my keep and lands under control and if I find a steward I trust, I can come back down for a vacation."
"Could I come visit you?"
"That's really more up to your father than me. But I'm not sure you'd like it there, the North is quite different from Dorne. It's so cold-" Torrhen cut himself off. "Nevermind, I shouldn't use that analogy around you. Um, it's colder in the North than you've ever experienced, we get snow in the summer."
"I've never seen snow before, what's it like?"
Torrhen blinked. "You've never seen snow? Wait, what am I saying? Dorne's a desert, it would be surprising if you had seen it. Let's see, snow is like. . ."
Oberyn watched with amusement as Torrhen told Arianne about snow, the cold, and a wide variety of ways that life in the North was different from Dorne.
He's quite good with children. If he hadn't made such a commotion when Doran presented the idea, I'd assume Torrhen was laying the groundwork for a marriage with Arianne. But he seems to simply enjoy entertaining her, maybe he was actually being honest when he told Doran he didn't desire a powerful marriage. Maybe.
~Oberyn Martell~
The water was calm as the boat sailed across the surface. The moon didn't provide much light, it was only a crescent, but at least Oberyn could well see enough that he didn't trip over anything as he walked around.
"This is not nearly as fun as last time," Ellaria complained as Oberyn approached the pair at the bow of the boat. "Swimming in water this deep is dangerous at night so I'm stuck on the boat."
Torrhen snorted. "I don't know why you expected it would be fun. The trip to the beach was specifically because I wanted to relax. This is research. I told you as much when I asked to borrow the ship."
"I was hoping to convince you to change your mind. If Oberyn gets distracted by one of the crew I'd be so lonely."
"Then you should do what I do when I'm lonely, use your hand."
Oberyn smirked as he walked up behind his paramour and kissed her cheek. "I think Ellaria would prefer to use your hand."
"Not happening." Torrhen's voice wasn't angry, there was no heat in his tone, but it still had a firm sense of finality.
It's like he enjoys sending mixed messages. Torrhen will act like he wants to woo us one moment and then is as serious as a septon the next.
"Am I correct in assuming that we've arrived?" Torrhen asked.
"Aye," Oberyn answered. "Captain says the reef is just a few hundred feet further out. Given that multiple ships have crashed here he didn't want to get any closer at night."
"That's totally reasonable," Torrhen said as bent over to unlace his boots.
While this wasn't the first time Oberyn had seen Torrhen disrobe, the Northerner still held his attention. Putting aside the issue of his teeth, Torrhen was not anyone's idea of a conventionally attractive man. He had been losing weight ever since he arrived in Dorne, to the point that he was now starting to look emaciated. His cheeks were hollow and now that Torrhen was pulling his shirt was off, Oberyn could clearly see the man's ribs.
Still muscular though. Just has whip thin limbs is all.
Despite all that, Oberyn still wanted to bed Torrhen. For starters, his skin was now so pale it was practically otherworldly and who doesn't want an exotic looking bedmate at least once? Another (far less carnal) reason was the desire to unravel the mystery, all men fell victim to pillow talk on some level and if that was what it took to finally get Torrhen to give straight answers Oberyn would happily sleep with him. Then there was simple curiosity, you could learn a lot about a person by how they performed in bed. Were they considerate of their partner's needs or were they more concerned about getting themselves off? Did they want to be aggressive and take control or did they like the other person to do so? There were so many different behaviors that could be read into.
Damn it, why couldn't you have taken your smallclothes off along with your pants? As much as you joke about sex with me you don't need to hide your cock.
"The latest I'll be back is sunrise, but I might return earlier. Depends on what I find." And with that, Torrhen flipped backwards over the railing into the ocean.
Oberyn moved to the edge and watched Torrhen's pale form disappear down into the water below. After counting to ten in case he resurfaced, Oberyn turned back to his paramour who gave a deep sigh in return.
"Anything?"
Oberyn shook his head. "Nothing more so than when he first asked for a boat to come out here in the first place."
"Was one of the wrecks carrying something valuable? Did Torrhen find details of what the cargo was from somewhere?"
"I spoke to the harbormaster, he still had some documents on the ships. Two were carrying food from the Reach, one was textiles from Essos, and one was a larger mix of generalized cargo that was leaving from Sunspear."
"Nothing jumps out at me as worth investigating," Ellaria said, her voice sullen.
"Nor me," Oberyn admitted. "Do you think Torrhen was telling the truth? That he just wanted to investigate the bodies?"
"What makes waterlogged corpses in the ocean so interesting? Assuming they are even still there and not in so many little fish bellies."
Oberyn shrugged. "Torrhen can turn the dead into - I believe the word he insisted on was 'undead' - so presumably he finds different corpses interesting. I imagine a skilled smith will find different metals interesting in the same manner."
"Why was he so particular about that?" Ellaria asked. "Just seems a weird thing to focus on. Undead. Un, meaning not or opposite. If I'm unhappy that Torrhen didn't undress me, it means I'm not happy that I still have clothes on. So undead means not dead. Well, I'm not dead. Am I undead?"
Oberyn pursed his lips in thought before finally saying, "No, you and I are alive."
"But why insist on undead? Especially when we already have words for that? It took me a while to remember the stories of the Others but they would raise dead people as wights. So Torrhen can make wights."
"Pretty sure I heard him refer to Arthur as a wight," Oberyn admitted. "But Torrhen and Lyanna aren't wights, they're vampires, which are different."
"From what I've picked up, it sounds like vampires are just wights that know blood magic."
Oberyn shook his head. "There's more to it than that. Vampires don't just know blood magic, they need it to stay. . . uh, alive? Undead? Up. They need it to stay up and moving about."
"So they're a different kind of wight then, the point is they're still wights. Why the new word? Vampires could just be called blood wights or something."
"You sound like you're complaining that different breeds of horses have different names."
Confusion was clear on Ellaria's face as she spoke, "Maybe I am? I don't know. Torrhen's behavior disturbs me, mainly his word usage. As if he's trying to appear more knowledgeable than he actually is. So I'm trying to work through the logic of it, see if it really does make sense and I'm just misjudging him."
"And that's just another reason why I love you," Oberyn said as he finally pushed off the railing and walked over to take his paramour in a hug. He rested his hands on her wonderful hips while she draped her arms around his neck. "You watch out for danger but you don't let paranoia rule you, you're willing to admit when you might be wrong."
Ellaria smirked. "You made that up just now, when in the past has there been a similar situation?"
"I guess you've forgotten the redhead in the Arbor? How you were so sure he was an assassin hired by the Tyrells but eventually changed your mind?"
"Well, it's more like you and he convinced me to change my mind," Ellaria said, wistfully smiling at the memory. Oberyn couldn't blame her, that had been a fun night. "Oh! That actually reminds me of an idea I had. Torrhen mentioned that he and Lyanna need to limit their exposure to the realm, right?"
"Not quite how he phrased it, but yes. Lyanna can't go to King's Landing and he doesn't want to make a big name for himself. Supposedly."
"What if that's because, as wights or vampires or undead, whatever, that they can't sire children? For all we know, Torrhen might not even be able to perform in bed. I've certainly never seen a corpse with a full spear."
Oberyn resisted the urge to make a joke about how many dead, naked men Ellaria had seen and instead pondered what she had said. That would explain why Torrhen would always stop short anytime it seemed like things were about to finally progress to the bedroom. It would also explain his aversion to marriage, both for himself and Lyanna.
Then again, maybe he just doesn't want her married to the Baratheon.
"It's possible. But the only way we'd get confirmation of that would be to ask Torrhen and, if it's true, that would be an incredibly sensitive subject to bring up."
Ellaria chuckled lightly. "Ah, of course. How silly of me to forget the most important part of a man's pride: his cock."
Oberyn gave his lover a mock pout. "Never have I been so offended by something I completely agree with."
Ellaria's chuckles turned into full laughter and she swatted Oberyn across the back of his head. However, whatever she was to say in response was interrupted by a deafening noise as the water near the boat exploded upward in an enormous geyser. The pair were thrown to the deck in a tangle of limbs as the boat rocked from the waves.
"Captain, what the fuck was that?" Oberyn shouted as he stumbled to his feet.
"I have no idea, Prince Oberyn. I've never seen anything like it," was the response hollered back.
Then it was definitely Torrhen. Oberyn thought as he helped Ellaria up. Fortunately, it seemed the event was a one time thing as the water was already calming down.
"Look! He's resurfaced!" One of the crew called out.
Looking out, Oberyn could see Torrhen's pale form some distance away. He was. . . floundering.
"Obayn!"
He sounds wounded. "Torrhen! Are you alright?" Oberyn shouted out before turning to the captain of the boat and asking in a normal tone, "Can you get us closer to him?"
Torrhen bellowed out, "Coming!" as the captain walked over.
"Looks like we don't need to, my Prince. He's swimming to us."
As Torrhen paddled closer, Oberyn could tell something was wrong but he wasn't sure what exactly. He was even more confused when he heard the 'thunk' of Torrhen swimming straight into the side of the boat.
Ellaria shrieked as Torrhen climbed up out of the water and Oberyn couldn't blame her. The Northerner's face was a mess. His teeth, normally so long and sharp, were broken unevenly as if he had taken a fist to the mouth. His eyes appeared to have burst, leaking dark liquid down his cheeks.
"Torrhen, what in the seven hells happened to you?"
Opening his mouth wider, Torrhen leapt forward at Oberyn, sending the pair crashing to the deck. "Nee bloo!"
Fuck, that hurts! Oberyn thought as he felt Torrhen bite into his neck.
The crew was shouting and it looked like they were trying to pull Torrhen off of him. They were not succeeding in that goal as Oberyn could feel is energy being drained.
This is not the same as bleeding into a cup, was Oberyn's last thought before he passed out.