Synopsis: Prince Oberyn Martell did not want to marry the bride Doran picked for him. Lady Rhea Redwyne needed her plan to succeed or Doran would have her head.
~~~~
By gods, did Oberyn not want to be standing here, awaiting the ship carrying his bride-to-be. He had laughed at Doran three moons ago, with Ellaria nestled on his lap, as Doran mentioned having found a suitable bride for him. He had almost hit his brother upon learning that Doran had made a pact with Lord Orys Redwyne of the Arbour for his only daughter to marry Oberyn. He detested the idea of marrying a mainland Noblewoman unfamiliar with Dornish ways.
He still was, but the small amount of information he had learned about through Obara on his betrothed soothed him.
Lady Rhea Redwyne, known throughout the Reach as the Mother of Beasts, never seen without her beloved Myrrish Tigress and massive bearcat. Lady Rhea Redwyne, co-captain of her own warship, named the Serpent and rivalled the ships of the Iron Fleet.
At least his new bride wasn’t a snivelling flower. Or worse yet, Cersei Lannister.
As the ships came closer, Oberyn was at least able to see why Doran arranged for him to marry Lady Redwyne. The Redwyne fleet was the largest in Westeros, boasting two hundred warships, and over a thousand merchant ships. And, the Redwyne’s controlled the trade of Arbour wine, a wine Ellaria loved.
After what seemed like years, the Serpent docked in front of the greeting party consisting of Prince Doran and his wife Mellario, and their children Arianne and Quentyn. Ellaria and his children through her were not in attendance, as Doran banned them from making an appearance at the greeting, but Obara, Tyene, and Nymeria stood behind Oberyn, and he was thankful that three of his daughters were there at the very least.
The dock lowered, and Oberyn got a first look at his soon-to-be-wife.
She was pretty, and noticeably younger than Oberyn, though thankfully not young enough to be a maiden. Her auburn hair was darker than other shades he had seen, though glowed more orange in the bright Dornish light. It was left down, allowing for her soft curls to fall kindly to her hips, though the sides of her hair were twisted and pulled back to keep her hair from obscuring her face. Her pale eyes glistened in the light, though she was too far away for him to determine the colour.
She was dressed in a beautiful and eye-catching dress of blue-grey silk and an armour-like bodice. The tan leather bodice covered her neck completely and jutted out as pauldrons over her shoulders, underneath which sheer silk sleeves hugged her arm and loosely ended at her fingers. The leather was stopped just above her breasts, which were sculpted by intricate metal linings, covered with blue and gold embroidery that covered the entire bodice and cauldron, extending down onto the full skirts of sheer silk.
To the sharp gasp of his brother, Oberyn was pleased to see at her heels, were the famed tigress and bearcat. Oberyn had no care for the people behind her, watching Lady Redwyne intensely. As she came no more than a metre from Oberyn, she stopped, and gave the Dornish party an elegant curtsy, the silks of her dress moving like waves around her. Oberyn did not hesitate to respond with a bow of his own, the rest of the Dornish party following suit.
He cherished in the realization of the crowd that Lady Redwyne approached the party first, and not her father who stood behind her and that she approached Oberyn and not the Ruler of Dorne.
“Pleasure to meet you all, I am Lady Rhea of House Redwyne. I bring with me my companions Nymeria and Visenya,” She gestured to her tigress and bearcat. “My father, Lord Orys Redwyne of the Arbour, my mother: Lady Meera Redwyne of the Arbour, my younger brother Lord Paxter Redwyne, and my ship the Serpent, along with ten merchant vessels of House Redwyne.”
“It is all my pleasure to see you again, Lady Redwyne.” Doran interrupted, cutting in. “May I introduce your betrothed, my brother Prince Oberyn of House Martell? With me is my lady-wife Princess Mellario and our children, Princess Arianne and Prince Quentyn.”
Oberyn never stopped looking at Lady Redwyne and was pleased that she never stopped looking at him. Now that she was closer, he could see that her eyes were an icy grey colour, lined softly with light brown kohl. His gaze cooled as she finally turned to look at Prince Doran, her upper lip upturning slightly as she finally addressed the man behind both of their predicaments.
“Thank you, Prince Doran, for this arrangement. I hate to end our chat here, but my mother does not do well on the sea. Would my party be able to rest in our rooms before dinner tonight?”
“Why yes of course. Oberyn, please show your betrothed her temporary quarters while I show Lord and Lady Redwyne their chambers.”
Oberyn nearly scoffed at his brother, but nonetheless held out his hand to Lady Redwyne who tentatively took it, allowing him to lead her into her chambers within the Tower of Sun.
~
In the six days since Lady Redwyne’s arrival in Dorne, Oberyn had not seen or spoken to his betrothed. It was not as if he was seeking her out, but he found it strange. The only confirmation that she was alive was Nymeria having informed Oberyn that she had been keeping Rhea and her beasts' company, which was at the point that Oberyn learned that Lady Redwyne had brought not only her tigress, Nymeria, and her bearcat, Visenya, but a spotted genet named Lobelia, and two twin mangrove pit vipers named Iris and Wisteria.
But alas, today was the dreaded day. Oberyn stood underneath an orange tree, a Septon he did not care for standing next to him as he waited for Lady Redwyne to enter the grove. It was apparently her coaxing that allowed them to get married at the Water Gardens and not a Sept near Sunspear. He was still unsure how she pulled that off and was quite impressed.
“Who comes before the Seven this day?”
“Rhea of House Redwyne and Reed, a woman grown, true born and noble, I have come here to be wed.”
And that is when he turned, finally taking in her appearance.
Her hair was intricately braided up and out of her face, forming a bun at the crown of her head, secured by a gold hairpiece of a band with twelve thin spikes jutting out, emulating the sun’s rays. Her eyes were once again lined with light brown kohl, and her plump lips were painted slightly with a peach gloss. It was her dress however, that was wowing the crowds. Simplistic yet clearly delicately made just for her, it was quite revealing in the silver semi-sheer panels that made up the sleeveless dress that hugged her curves tightly, the panels slowly transitioning into panels of feather-like Qartheen silk, pinned to the skirt with delicate silver embroidery. The top of the dress was a high neckline of sheer white fabric and white grid-like seams, covering her delicate neck and covering her shoulders in yet another pauldron-like detail.
“Who comes to claim her?”
“Oberyn Nymeros, of House Martell, Prince of Dorne.” He called as he drank in her appearance as she stood next to her father a few meters from him and the Septon.
“Who gives her?”
“Orys of House Redwyne, Lord of the Arbour, gives this woman.”
And with that, she was passed to him, her soft hand sliding carefully into his outstretched one, and she came up next to him. His eyes briefly glanced at the silk cloak she donned, a pale burgundy that somehow didn’t clash with the white of her dress and the overall colour of the Water Garden grotto.
“You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.
He carefully slipped the silk cloak from her body, folding it and passing it to Doran who handed him a sunny yellow cloak with a golden serpent upon it, which Oberyn gently slipped onto her before taking her left hand.
“We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”
Oberyn swallowed harshly at the feeling of the ribbon binding their hands.
It should be Ellaria with whom he was binding hands with, not her.
“In the sight of the Seven, I nearby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger - hear now their vows.”
Robotically, their voices come out, emotionless at the state of their circumstances.
“I am yours and you are mine, from this day, until the end of my days.”
“Let it be known that they are one hears, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder. I proclaim thee man and wife.”
Oberyn was incredibly thankful for the removal of the ribbon and silently turned to face his lady-wife. They paused before Rhea leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.
“This was not my idea, I have much to tell you once we are alone.” She whispered.
Oberyn hid his surprise by kissing her on the cheek as well as he grasped her hand once more and turned towards the crowd observing the ceremony.
All they had to do was get through this blasted dinner without pissing off Doran and then they could share their thoughts in private.
Thankfully for the both of them, the feast went much quicker, Doran having ended it so that the newlyweds could have significant time to bed, something which made Rhea grimace behind her napkin. She returned to quarters and slipped into the nightgown gifted to her by her cousin, Alerie Tyrell. It was skimpier than what she had worn before, but she did not mind for she already found many of her dresses too warm for the Dornish climate.
It was made of hand-dyed Qartheen silk, a pale blue colour Rhea favoured, falling shapelessly from her shoulders and hips as the material hugged her breasts. The neckline reached down to her navel, giving a teasing glimpse of her perky breasts, only interrupted by a crisscrossing embroidered band that lined the edges of the bodice and its cutouts, including the ones above her waist and on her hips, giving teasing amounts of skin.
It would be a while before she could wear dresses as showy as these once more, but hopefully, it would be worth it.
“My Prince?” She called, as she entered his personal chambers.
“Lady Redwyne.”
It would be a lie to say that Oberyn was not handsome, but even his looks couldn’t sway her from her mission tonight. He was dressed in sun-gold breeches and an open robe that showed off his chest.
He approached her, beginning to shed his robe, but stopped when he met her hand, pressed flat against his chest.
“May we sit and discuss what I mentioned?” Rhea asked, “And please, Prince Oberyn, refer to me as Rhea. We may as well act the part of a married couple now.”
“Very well, care for some wine?”
“I will pass at the moment.”
Oberyn lounged in the chair, looking over at his sensuously dressed bride and wondering what she needed to speak with him about.
“I am with child already.”
That was certainly not what he expected.
“Oh? Who is the father?”
“Prince Doran.”
Oberyn coughed on his wine, looking at Rhea incredulously.
“My brother fathered a bastard.”
“Yes. I only agreed because it was the only way to cover my pregnancy. I am just over a moon already, so it is still believable that you are the father of my true-born child.” Rhea said, “There is no need for us to bed, I only ask that you keep my secret and be a father to your niece or nephew as you have fathered your daughters.”
“You take no offence in my daughters and my paramour?”
“Your daughters are lovely. I take no offence to bastards, for they are treated far too poorly outside of Dorne.”
“And my paramour? Will you resent me for continuing to love and dote on my beloved Ellaria?”
Rhea's cheeks flushed, and Oberyn grinned.
“Or are you perhaps also entranced by my Ellaria’s beauty and wit?”
Rhea looked guilty and terrified for all but a moment before Oberyn gently set his hand down atop hers.
“I trust you have heard the rumours that I bedded Knights of Reach?”
“Yes.”
“Unlike the stuck-up cunt lords of the rest of Westeros, I care not for only bedding women. I bed both because it pleases me. Doran and I have the agreement that I am free to do as I will so long as I father one true-born child with you, as you are already with Doran’s child, I will not force you to bed me, nor will I prevent you from seeking the comforts of others. I only ask, does Doran know you are with child?”
“He does not know he even coupled me.” Rhea snapped, her glare turning sour.
Oberyn’s jaw tightened, “Tell me what happened, so that I may prevent it from happening once more.”
“He came a moon and a half ago to finalize the marriage pact. I was exiting my quarters for a moonlight stroll and Doran, completely in his cups stumbled upon me and mistook me for his Lady Wife. He dragged me into his quarters and took me to his bed, despite my refusal and attempts to leave. He coupled me until he rolled over and fell asleep, at which I removed the bloodied sheet and returned to my chamber.”
“You did not take moon tea to stop it?”
“I cannot take moon tea, for one of the flowers within it is deadly to me.” Rhea admitted sadly, “I had every intention of stopping our betrothal, but I knew that soon I would show and my slim options for suitors would shrink and that I would likely be exiled for my crimes against my father and the Seven. I pretended to be madly in love with you to keep myself and my unborn child safe.”
Oberyn’s eyes watered as Rhea spoke honestly, her voice trembling as she told him everything.
He had no room to be mad at her now, only a boiling rage at what his brother had done to Rhea and Oberyn himself.
He hadn’t told Steve where he was going, or what he even was doing. All the others knew was that he was going out for the night.
He still hadn’t really figured out a way to tell them about Ilyana. Steve would be way too excited and the others would either tease the shit out of him or over-react.
And part of him just simply didn’t want to tell them.
Turning an alleyway, he began his climb up the fire exit stairs until he reached the 8th floor of the slightly run-down building. Reaching over to where the window was, he rapped on the window four times. A moment or two later, the thick curtains were pushed aside and two slender hands pushed the window open.
Poking her head at him, he couldn’t not give a small smile as her looked at her.
“Come inside before I freeze.” She teased, her teal eyes gleamed with mischief.
Effortlessly, he clambered through the window and found himself once again within the eclectic comfort of Ilyana’s apartment. It was an obscene mash-up of almost five centuries worth of collections and belongings, but at least she had the decency of everything being the colour palette of plum, grey, and black.
He don’t think he could’ve stepped foot into her place had it been that side of the 1960 and 1970s.
“So, what do you have planned?” He asked, following her into the entraining area (even though he was the only person she ever entertained with the safety of her sanctum.
“I got us some tickets to an event that I thought you’d like, as an anniversary present.” She smiled, playing with a loose ginger curl that had evaded her braid.
“And what is that event?”
“A jazz night at the Botanical Garden. I have a private table, and we can enjoy a nice dinner with live jazz music from the 1920-1940s.”
He nodded, heart warming. She was so thoughtful, finding things to do that brought him back to his life before he became the Winter Solider. He tried to do the same for her, but it was a little difficult to find events related to when she was “alive”. After all, there wasn’t much entertainment around in this day from the Tudor Era.
She did enjoy it when he took her to see Six, despite his distaste for musicals. She found the show hilarious, so it was worth sitting through a couple hours of song and dance.
“Do I need to change at all?”
She looked over his usual leather jacket, shirt and jeans.
“You should be good. It’s not particularly fancy, and nor did I feel like a formal event. In terms of that, this is good right?”
He took a once over of her black satin slip dress that reminded him faintly of a nightgown he had seen in a vintage shop one time. Her hair in a loose braid and her rouge-painted lips made her look more fabulous than any celebrity at the Met Gala. In his opinion, she was the most beautiful person in the world, and he was friends with Natasha.
“You look radiant, Ilyana. Should we head out?”
“Yes. I want to soak this up seeing as we won’t be able to see each other for a couple weeks.”
“In that case, lets live this night up?”
The smile he gave her was reserved for her, and her alone.
After all, it was easy to connect with Ilyana despite his disconnect with modern times, because well, it was nothing on her being 523 years old as of this year despite that they both didn’t look a day over 31.
Nox didn't know what to expect when the other four came home from school weirder than they normally were. Normally they'd be loud and off the wall, with Freed and/or Laxus trying to handle them.
But today they were silent. And it made Nox feel weird.
"What is up with you guys?" Nox asked, as they entered their secret grotto.
"What do you mean?" Bickslow badly fibbed.
"You guys have been weirdly silent since coming back from school."
Bickslow, Laxus, and Freed all went pink so Nox turned to Evergreen.
"Ever?"
"We learned how sex worked today in science class."
"Oh, that's it?"
Bickslow gaped at her, "Did you already know?"
"Yeah. Makarov taught me human anatomy at one point."
"What does human anatomy have to do with sex education?"
It was Nox's turn to turn pink as she fidgeted with her mask slightly.
"I'll.... go to into more detail when you guys are older but I don't reproduce the same way you guys do."
What if Delilah and Sylas had a daughter who was unwilling about the coup and wanted to make things right? Who frees Percy and Cassandra but winds up with a punishment so brutal she won't ever be the same? Who was Cassandra's saviour, until the tides turned between them and Cassandra was the one saving her? And what if, something in those secret meetings blooms between the two girls?
When her mother and father said they were moving to Tal'Dorei, Diana was beyond excited. She had not enjoyed running from the Dwendalian Empire, and to finally be able to settle back in would be good. Perhaps she could even continue her studies away from her mother and father. Delilah would fret if she learned that Diana had not been studying the arcane and instead studying the limits of her own body.
Ignoring her mother and father's hushed whispers, she pressed her hands against the glass of their cabin and got her face as close to the glass without squishing it. Whitestone was beautiful, and Diana marvelled at the beauty of the place. She only hoped where-ever they moved would be as interesting as this place.
But there was one thing that her hazel eyes latched on, and that was the gleaming tree in the centre of the city.
"Mother?"
"Yes Diana?" Delilah sighed, pausing her conversation.
"That tree, do you know if they have a name for it here?" Diana asked with wonder.
"Why yes of course. They call it the Sun Tree. It's a symbol of Pelor." Delilah scoffed. "Incredibly gaudy if you ask me."
Diana shut her mouth, refraining from sharing her thoughts.
I think its beautiful, Mother.
Their carriage finally stopped at Castle Whitestone as Sylas had told her. Smoothing the ruffled black skirt of her ankle-length dress, she nervously took a few greedy breaths.
"You're nervous." Sylas said, looking at Diana.
"You said there are many De Rolo children, I'm worried that they won't like me. You and mother always said that making a good impression is important." Diana muttered, leaning into her father a little more. She was still startled by the fact that her father had almost not made it back from the brink of death. Thankfully her mother's healing spell had brought Sylas back, but not before they were chased out of the Empire due to the necromantic nature of the healing spell.
What was so wrong about a little necromancy?
"You won't need to worry about an impression darling." Sylas cooed, brushing his gloved fingers underneath her chin. "You are a Briarwood. You are perfect. You are royalty."
Diana did not expect the "family dinner" with the De Rolo's to go this way. How could she know that her parents and Anna were planning a bloody coup. When Delilah ordered her to use her magic, Diana refused and tried to get answers from her parents, which ended where she was know.
Magically locked in her new room so she wouldn't be a distraction.
Diana had practically ripped off the dress her mother gave her, and now sat curled up in the centre of her new bed. Wearing one of her older grey nightgown, she curled up a little more.
The screams had died out now, the castle eerily silent. Diana couldn't get the image of the De Rolo family out of her head, the moment before the sword went through Lord De Rolo's head.
Whispers outside of her room caught her ear.
"...caught two of the kids......in a cell now....."
Diana's heart picked up. Two of the De Rolo kids were still alive. And that's when the thought hit her. If she was going to be stuck here, living in this massacre, maybe she could help the other two get out. Then they could send word to the powers of Tal'Dorei and take out her parents and Anna.
She was barely a teenager, but she knew she could do something. Quickly going through her belongings, she began to make inventory of her things. She'd have to give it a few days, but she could gather what she needed to break them out. After all, picking locks and punching shit was her speciality.
It took a week before Diana got a sizeable enough gap to break the De Rolo's out. In that time, she had to play up her dutiful daughter nature and pretend that she had come to terms with the coup. She used the act that everyone bought into to scope out the cells and find an escape route.
She also saw which children she was helping escape, and it hurt the more she thought about it. Percival, the older boy who had his head buried in a book, and Cassandra, the girl who was the same age as Diana.
Finally, night fell. Equipped with her tools, she began to sneak into the basement. Slipping past a fallen-asleep guard and pocketing his keys, she found her way to Percival and Cassandra's cell. Pulling out the key, she slid into the lock and opened the cage.
The door opening quietly rose the siblings from slumber as Diana slid the keys back across the floor towards the guard around the corner. Instead of seeing Anna or Delilah like they normally would, both siblings woke confused and scared at a the sight of Diana. The last they had seen of the girl for the maybe 30 minutes they had met her, she had been screaming and crying as the slaughter commenced.
"What do you want?" Percival's hoarse voice whispered with venom.
"To get you guys out. Come on, we don't have a lot of time. We need to go!" Diana whispered, making sure to watch out for any guards.
Percival and Cassandra shared a glance before getting to their feet, stumbling a little from the lack of nutrition. Diana grabbed Percival's hand as he grabbed his sister's, and began guiding them out.
"Why are you doing this?" Percival asked, looking at Diana in utter confusion.
"Because you guys need to get out. Get help for your city and get the adults of Tal'Dorei to do something. Because a teenager and two tweens aren't going to be able to do anything." Diana whispered, tugging them through a secret door as they stepped into the dark night. "We need to get to the tree line. I have two horses waiting for you guys, and put these on quick."
Diana pulled from within her own cloak, two black cloaks to hide the siblings pale physique.
"What about you?" Cassandra asked. "Where's your horse?"
Diana smiled sadly, "If I left they'd set out on a manhunt. I need to make it look like I was never here lest they punish me again."
"But-" Cassandra started as Percival threw a cloak over her.
"I need to bide my time and wait for outside support. I can't do anything against my mother and her magic."
"Thank you." Percival said, all three of them now in dark cloaks. "Are we ready?"
Diana looked up at the castle walls, watching as the lone guard on this side of the castle turned their back, she nodded.
gummygunk
romaincrisis
yousharknotpass
prguitarman
theartofmadeline
andulkaphoto