Courtyard, Westeros — The next day
After breaking fast with her sons, Visenya had returned to her chambers to finish the letters she did not manage to send the night prior. After she was done, she chose to explore Sunspear and most specifically; find her sons.
She found out from a guard that Jaime chose to spend his day with Myrcella, wishing for some privacy and Visenya had suspicions on the subject; being none other than the true parentage Of the girl. It was something she had long suspected but the Dragoness officially learnt from Jaime during their trip to Dorne. During the trip, Jaime's mind was clearly occupied and so, like the mother she was, chose to approach and try to help him.
In the end, the Lion confessed to her the truth; sparing her of unnecessary details, which she was thankful for.
Visenya had chosen not to comment anything on it since he knew her opinion about incest. Considering her family history and the troubles incest brought, she was rather against it. She could have scolded him, she could have said anything but she did not. Instead, she changed the topic and chose not to address it again. She did not wish to argue with him or worsen the situation, after everything that had taken place; the High Sparrow included.
With Jaime busy, Visenya started to search for Trystan and eventually found him by the open courtyard.
Like most of Dorne, the floor was covered by a thin layer of sand and the space was quite big; in a huge square shape.
A fountain was in the middle with greenery and bloody red oranges for decorations but the majority was plain, a great place for training.
Different weapons had been moved and stationed outside, allowing anyone to have a variety to choose from.
As she walked out into the courtyard, she felt the difference in temperature as the sun was directly above her. However, wearing one of Ellaria's given dresses, the Dragoness did not feel the heat as badly as she did the day prior.
The dress was made from local materials, offering a sturdy structure but one that was also quite light. It protected the skin from the sun but did not weigh the person or make the heat worse.
It had this odd greyish tone with brown, lacking any sleeves and having a rather deep V by the chest; but not too much. In length it stopped close to her knees and had wide openings at both sides by her legs, allowing for a free area Of movement while she also sported silk pants beneath for modesty and easiness.
Her white hair had been put into a ponytail, lifted high enough to remain away from her neck since they could make her sweat enough with their thickness and weight. Her sword was strapped to her waist, a sense of security but also not feeling like leaving it in the room.
She came to a halt upon noticing 5 Of the 8 Sand Snakes, had formed a small circle and were busy watching two people train. The eldest daughters Of Oberyn were present while Obella, Dorea and Loreza were in the Water Gardens with the rest of the children.
At first, she saw Oberyn fighting with someone or better say sparring and only as she took a few steps forward, did she see who his 'opponent' was... Trystan.
The young boy wore a simple Dornish jacket with an open V and a silk tunic beneath, with matching silk pants. In his hands, was his sword and he was busy trying to keep Oberyn's spear out of his face.
"You are fast for a knight but you are still too Slow" Oberyn commented as he moved forward for an attack.
Trystan used his sword and blocked him, pushing his spear to the side; only for the Red Viper to spin and bring his spear from the Other side, aiming at the exposed side of the young Lion.
Having no choice, the Lion turned his body and barely managed to deflect the sharp point of the spear. His green eyes grew wider upon seeing the smirk Of his opponent.
Oberyn wasted no time to start moving faster, jumping and spinning similarly to the Combat Trial with the Mountain. He kept Trystan on edge, faking some attacks and going with some others all while giving the boy no chance to catch his breath.
In the end, Trystan failed to properly block an attack.
The sweat in his palms and the angle of the hit he had to block made his sword fall to the sandy ground, and face the tip Of the spear close to his neck.
"You focus too much on your posture and your legs. You become stiff and an easy target. You should learn how to move more and strike faster" the Red Viper told him as he pulled his weapon back.
With the practise over, Visenya chose to make her presence known and also share her opinion on the matter; since she was the one that helped Trystan train while growing up.
"It is not his style," she said, drawing the attention Of the small crowd.
"Mother" Trystan exclaimed, slightly embarrassed by the loss that she had witnessed.
The Dragoness stepped closer; the Sand Snakes letting her pass while giving her mixed looks. It was evident that they were not really happy with her around, either because of what happened to Ellaria or because they thought of her as another stuck-up Westerosi Woman.
"There is no style in fighting" Oberyn argued but smiled, eyes scanning her now that she was dressed in more Dornish clothes.
He was not going to lie, it did suit her but he found the colour rather boring. He would have much preferred her with gold instead, like the bright sun above them.
"There are preferences, however" she snapped back. "He is tall and strong, he can't be fast and agile like you. It is wiser to stick to what favours him"
"Only because you taught him that way. I have seen taller guys spinning like a dancer" he continued, clearly not intending to lose. "However, if you so wish to add your point, princess, why not show it with practice?"
"Mother spar?" Trystan exclaimed, having recovered the fallen sword.
He had never truly seen his mother spar against anyone. The few times he caught her training, it was with a bow or her dagger. They had only fought against one another but that was always an uneven battle since he could not defeat her.
Oberyn smirked at his reaction. "You haven't seen your mother fighting?" he asked, clearly amused and turned to her. "Why do you hesitate, princess? Show your boy what you know. It is not like your old grumpy husband is present to Stop you"
Visenya thought of it for a moment, mentally debating. She did spar back in Casterly Rock and she had kept her skills honed during the war but she didn't truly have the chance to challenge herself and her unique fighting style.
In addition, she did owe Oberyn for what he did with the wedding. Sure, in the end, she got a nice surprise from Tywin but it had almost backfired on her.
Finally, a smirk formed on her lips. "Eager to lose again, Prince Oberyn?" she asked, earning different reactions from his daughters, who moved to the side and let her pass fully.
The Dornish Prince gave her a charming smile. "l don't lose, Princess...not even to someone with your beauty" he commented and got his spear ready.
"Is that so?" she asked as she unsheathed her sword.
She felt the familiar feeling Of the leather-bound handle, the unique light weight of the sword as the patterned Valyrian Steel blade reflected the sun while she got into position.
"Yes," Oberyn said and moved first.
He started to take side Steps, slowly circling her but she would not let him get into any of her blind spots. She did the same as him; her steps were limited to a far smaller circle and were slower; more careful and stable.
Their eyes remained locked, their weapons ready before the Dornish Prince chose to attack. He extended his spear, aiming for her body but she brought her blade and blocked it.
She did not stop there and instead used her momentum to push the blade far to the side and up in the air while she pushed herself to close the gap between them.
Since she was far closer now, Oberyn had to step to the side and even back to keep the distance that would allow his spear to harm her. Of course, Visenya knew Of that small weakness and was clearly trying to take advantage of it.
The sparring continued with the Dragoness blocking all Of his attacks despite their speed. Most were deflected and she used each opening she would find to come closer to her opponent, more than once her blade almost cutting his clothes.
She was fast and swift on her legs, as if the sword did not weigh her down or the sun did not burn her from above. Her amber eyes were locked on Oberyn, not once letting him get out of her field of vision.
Trystan watched from the sidelines, standing next to the Sand Snakes. He watched, impressed, lips parted in surprise at seeing his mother fighting like that. She did not fight like a knight, and he knew she was more one to tire her opponent, but he had never seen her so fast, so smooth with her attacks.
"She fights like a snake, who would have thought," Elia, one of the Sand Snakes, commented, hands folded in front of her chest.
Tyene, her sister, kept fidgeting with the small empty poison flask in her hands. "She will lose either way. She is no match for father."
Oberyn found an opening and tried to attack Visenya from her open right side, but the Dragoness was ready for him. She kicked her leg off the ground and ended up doing a side spin mid-air, passing over the moving blade of the spear.
Once her legs found solid ground again, she wasted no time rushing forward and sliding onto her knees. She bent her back to quite an angle to avoid his spear once again, as this time she came far closer than before.
Lifting one knee for support, she brought her sword and aimed for Oberyn's torso.
The Dornish Prince tried to block her attack, but her blade cut through the wooden handle of the spear and resulted in him being weaponless.
Or so Visenya thought, for he withdrew a short blade from his belt and aimed for her, now that she was in far closer proximity.
Her amber eyes widened and she tried to block the attack with her sword, but his blade landed too close to the handle of her weapon. He pressed down, trying to make her yield, while she was forced to arch her back and try to resist.
She felt the small strain of her muscles due to the increased pressure coming from Oberyn, who tried to send her on her back, but she refused to give him that satisfaction.
"Yield, Princess," he said, his face now closer to hers, with the two blades separating and preventing them from coming closer.
"I never yield," she said and brought her other hand to the blade, her palm pressed against it for better resistance.
She tightened her jaw as she prepared her next move.
She let her body arch further behind to the point that her back almost touched the ground and caused him to lean too much. She then managed to bring her legs forward and placed them on his stomach before sending him over her with a swift double-leg kick.
The move made Oberyn roll forward and land with his back on the sandy ground, not expecting such an odd move. Before he could recover, Visenya almost straddled him and was holding one of her Valyrian daggers right next to his neck, while one leg pressed his hand to the ground and prevented him from grabbing his fallen weapon. Her sword had fallen to the side and, with her other hand free, she used it to grab his wrist and keep it pinned close to his head. Her other leg had knelt next to his waist, faintly supporting her weight in this odd stance.
"I win," she said through her pants, her face hanging right above his.
Her pink lips had parted, and her chest and shoulders were moving in an attempt to catch her breath. White strands had escaped the ponytail while beads of sweat had formed on her forehead.
Oberyn looked at her in the eyes, feeling the heat radiating from her as she hovered above him. He took notice of her flustered cheeks and he could sense the cold metal of her blade against his neck, once again.
His eyes went to her parted lips, staring at them for a moment too long as temptations filled his mind.
She took notice, almost expecting it, and she rolled her eyes as she managed to lift herself to her feet, letting her heart rate slow down and her breathing return to normal.
The crowd watched in surprise, especially the Sand Snakes, after seeing their father on the ground, but then cheered; always enjoying a woman putting a man down. They expected her to be a stuck-up woman, but then they saw her fighting and they started to like what they saw, in all of its meanings.
Visenya extended her hand, offering to help Oberyn to his feet.
He grabbed her hand, but before she could pull him up, he pulled her down. The force made her stumble and fall, and he spun them until it was her back against the ground. He straddled her properly, grabbing both her wrists and pinning them close to her head, resulting in her losing her grip on that deadly dagger of hers.
"Not so quick, Princess," he said with a smirk, taking a moment to enjoy the rather intimate position that he might never have the chance to experience again.
He could feel the thin material of her Dornish clothing and almost see through it as well, thanks to how it was sticking to her skin due to the sweat. Her golden eyes glowed but also glared at him, clearly unhappy with the move he pulled. He did not mind and he simply remained where he was, feeling the faintest of excitement going south as he kept that toothy smirk upon his lips.
"Cheater," she said, not once looking away from his dark orbs and not once giving away how she felt in the rather inappropriate position.
It was a good thing that Tywin was not present, or all seven hells would break loose. Also, a good thing that Margaery was not, for she would have reported back to Olenna and then Visenya would not have heard the end of it from the older woman.
His smirk remained, bringing his face close enough that she could feel his breath reaching her. If he were to bring it just a tad more, they could practically kiss and by the gods, was he tempted?
"Don't you know, Princess; you can never drop your guard around a viper?"
She narrowed her eyes faintly, unaffected by how close his face was to hers. She knew he was not going to try and kiss her again, because the last time he did, she left him a nice scar as a reminder.
Even though back then, both were standing and he had pushed her against the wall. He had tried to intimidate, then charm her and after she had been resisting him, only then did he try to kiss her. Of course, this did not sit well with the Dragoness, who had grabbed one of her knives and attacked him blindly, in an attempt to get him off her. She was successful and the Dornish Prince left King's Landing with a new scar as a reminder.
Back then, she was not a married woman nor had she sired a son. She was young, she had not even slept with Tywin around that time. He, as well, had been younger and less trained than he was now. His black hair was even longer, reaching past his shoulders, but he had cut it rather short the past few years.
"Get off me and we call it a tie. Do anything else and I will add another scar to the one I gave you last time, this time far lower," she said, her pride not letting her take that position for much longer.
She could try to fight him and knock him off, but she was not sure how much she would achieve with that. She knew in terms of strength and weight, he had the upper hand and based on her experiences with Tywin in bed, where they had been in a similar situation; she could never win when she was in that specific position.
Plus, if she were to fight back and fail, it would only fuel his pride and sense of victory over her. Now that was something she refused to give to anyone but Tywin, and that was after he had tried enough and had earned it.
"A tie it is," he said and stood up, offering his hand like a gentleman. She eyed him carefully, clearly mistrustful after his latest trick. "Come on, Princess. I promise I don't bite."
She rolled her eyes but accepted his gesture, letting him pull her to her feet. She cleaned the dust from her clothes and moved to grab her fallen sword, all while trying to ignore that smirk of triumph that was practically glowing on his face.
Trystan approached her, impressed but also silent. He took notice of her fighting style, surprised by it, and he could not feel prouder to say that he came from this very formidable and rather deadly woman. However, he also took notice of something else.
He took notice of how Oberyn was looking at her and how she was not really snapping back or attacking him. When she was hovering above him with the blade and even when the tables turned, there was this... tension between them; a one-sided one.
He remembered what he had heard at the wedding feast about their betrothal that never happened and how those two danced and looked at one another. It was clear that Oberyn did have some fascination with her or at least interest.
It was also clear that Visenya did not return it in any way, since she shared something deeper with Tywin. Yet, the boy could not help but wonder if in the past, things were different.
Perhaps there was something between them, something that she kept ignoring as if it never happened while he kept chasing after it. Mayhap they had done something in secret when they were both unmarried. Considering Oberyn's reputation, he would not be surprised. Although, Trystan could not truly see his mother being such a rule breaker or sleeping with a man outside of marriage; no matter how charming they could be.
He let none of his internal questions show as he focused on her.
"That was incredible, Mother," he commented when she turned to face him, a small smile on his face. "Does Father know you can fight like that?"
She smiled at his compliment. "Partially. Such a way of battling is not really favoured in war and I never had to go one-to-one in a deadly match to fight that way."
"Are you calling our sparring deadly?" Oberyn asked, walking their way with that stupid prideful smirk on his face.
She sheathed her sword and then her dagger.
"Far from it," she commented, but her lips did form a smirk right after. "However..." she let him hang on that a little bit longer. "...it was a nice change of things."
That seemed to please him as his daughters started to approach them.
"My girls want to teach you how to use a whip and I am very much interested in seeing how that will go."
Visenya looked at the Sand Snakes. Most were older than her son, but each was quite unique; both in character and also fighting style. At least from what Oberyn had told her and what she had learnt as well.
"Well, I cannot say I have ever tried it," she said, earning some grins from them.
Except for Obara, that young woman never seemed to smile unless she made someone shout in pain.
Trystan looked at his mother, truly interested.
"While you do that, I can try with the spear," he thought, getting slightly carried away.
It was not only him, though. The atmosphere, the people and the general world around them were so carefree and different; that they subconsciously felt it affecting them, some might even say in the best way.
Oberyn smirked as he tried and managed to wrap one hand around the shoulders of the taller boy.
"Spear is an art, just like sex, and I will teach you all about it," he said, earning an arched eyebrow and a warning look from Visenya, who was unaware of what he was truly going to teach her son in the end.