Old Palace, Sunspear - Dorne - Nightfall
It was early nightfall and Visenya was walking to her chambers, alone.
She knew she had promised Tywin to always be escorted, but she found it unnecessary. She also wished to be alone with her thoughts and the longer walk to her chambers also helped with digesting her supper, still not fully used to the spicier cuisine of Dorne.
As she walked along the illuminated marbled paved walls, her eyes fell on different portraits that were hanging there. One in particular caught her attention and she came to a halt in front of it.
The portrait was of a woman with white hair and violet eyes, the standard look of Valyrian descent and also of a Targaryen. Visenya knew who that person was and yet she took a moment to admire the well-done portrait, surprised to see it hung there.
The sound of steps made her look towards their source, only to see Oberyn walking her way. Whether he was just passing by or was looking for her, she was not sure but she was not going to question it either.
"Princess," he greeted with his usual toothy charming smile. "I was told you had already returned to your chambers," he said, coming closer to her until he stopped by her side.
"I was heading there but stopped for a moment to enjoy the portrait," she said, her head faintly motioning to the drawing of the Targaryen woman hanging by the wall.
Oberyn's dark eyes moved from her to the portrait, his lips hiding his teeth but his smile remained.
"Ah, yes, Princess Daenerys. I remember my brother telling me the story about her," he said and his smile turned into a smirk as something popped into his mind. "You know, Princess, that could be us. We could be the next Daenerys and Maron if you had not changed my mother's mind."
Visenya thought about it for a moment and ironically, that would be the case. The third-born daughter, a princess, who would never get the throne, married the second-born Dornish prince.
It sounded ironic, just how similar their cases were to that of their ancestors.
Maron was Oberyn's ancestor and Daenerys was hers. They could have repeated history and created such a union and if Rhaegar had also married Elia; then that would be the exact case of Daeron II and Myriah.
Would that have made Tywin the Daemon Blackfyre in this story? she wondered mentally.
"If we were, would you follow his example and build another Water Garden like he did for her?" she asked with a small smile of amusement on her lips.
His smile dropped and he fully turned his body to face her, his face serious.
"I would, and far more, if you had given me the chance."
Visenya turned her body to fully face him as well, barely half a foot separating them as they looked into each other's eyes. She could see the seriousness behind it and perhaps once upon a time, he truly would, but she knew she would never survive in Dorne.
It was not her calling, it was not in her nature and neither was it in his to be faithful and private with his feelings or his sexual preferences.
Her own smile had disappeared.
"The chance is gone now. It's been 25 years, of which 20 I have been happily married," she reminded him, emphasizing the fact that she was fine with the man she was wed to and she was not a damsel in distress for him to save her; even though in his mind he truly doubted it.
There was something about Dornish Princes that made them go after strong warrior women, evidenced by how Mors Martell desired, chased after and eventually married the Warrior Queen Nymeria; creating the powerful Nymeros Martell house that everyone knew.
He scoffed, clearly not liking to be reminded of this. Yet, he did not stay on the subject too much. Instead, he licked his lips and chose to bring up a different topic of discussion.
"Would you like to go see the Water Gardens tomorrow morning? Your King and Queen will visit them later during the day but I thought we could go ahead."
She arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but also surprised by his offer.
She looked at him, trying to see if he had any devious plans in mind but she had her doubts. The idea was interesting to her, especially because the Water Gardens were said to be the jewel of Dorne.
The very same place that Maron Martell had built for his wife, Daenerys.
The same place where it was said common-born and highborn children all played naked, together; no separation because of who their parents were.
Her lips formed a small smile.
"I would like that, very much. Your late mother did say they were the true beauty one had to see while in Dorne."
Her reaction made him smile again, a twinkle of excitement in his dark eyes.
"It has been decided then. Tomorrow after breaking fast, meet me at the stables," he said and then extended his elbow like a true gentleman. "Now, may I escort you back to your chambers?"
She rolled her eyes but wrapped her hand around his elbow.
"You may, only because you know you are too stubborn to accept a negative answer," she said, making him grin.
"Only from beautiful princesses," he commented, making her shake her head faintly but her lips did betray her by showing her amusement.
While she never truly had feelings for him, especially now; she did enjoy his presence. His more aloof, flirty and free presence was different from what she was used to but was a welcoming change.
She knew he was just trying his best, both to draw a reaction out of her and also get under both her and Tywin's skin. She let him, having realized she could not do much to change that and sometimes she did not mind.
Everyone was always serious around her, fearing or respecting her. If they did not do that, they would gossip behind her back and try to put her down, threatened by her skills and powers.
Only he seemed to treat her like an everyday woman but still with the proper respect. He did not hesitate to try and cross the line, enter her private space or throw his comments as if they would win her over and have her straight in his bed.
Sometimes, those comments could be tiring but long had she learnt to accept them. Because at the end of the day, she did enjoy his company; being perhaps the only one she could truly call a loyal friend after all those years.
And a part of her knew that he had come to terms with being just that, good friends and sometimes partners in more selfish plans.
He was okay with that as well but he did feel like trying from time to time, at least to force a smile on her face; even if it was one of annoyance. Because it had become evident to him, that the Dragoness never truly smiled, burdened by the duties she had to carry since she was younger; and the Dragon Dreams he did not know of.
Thus, he had taken it upon himself to remind her to have fun, smile and just be herself when she had the chance; instead of the cold, Westerosi, lady wife of an old and grumpy Lion.
Stables, Sunspear, Dorne - The Following Morning
After breaking fast, Visenya had headed straight for the stables. Trystan and Jaime had asked where she would go and eventually agreed to meet her there later, along with Tommen and Margaery.
When she arrived at the famous stables, Oberyn was already waiting for her with two horses; Sand Steeds. It was the local horse, smaller than the ones they used in Westeros but said to be much faster and even capable of running a full day and night and the following day without getting tired.
His steed was a stallion, black as sin with a mane and a tail in the colours of a bright bloody red.
Next to it was a horse so white; that one might even mistake it for being sick. Its shade was that of snow, body, mane and tail all of matching shade.
Visenya was so mesmerized by it that she came to a halt, observing it in silence. Even her previous stallion was not that white and she had always taken extra pride in the rather unique shade of his coat.
"What do you think, Princess? You like her?" Oberyn asked with a toothy grin on his face as he watched her getting almost entranced by the beauty of the horse he had chosen just for her.
It was not uncommon for people to know that the Dragoness had a hobby related to horses, a certain interest if one could call it that. So, the Dornish Prince had chosen properly when he was inspecting the horses he owned the night prior; and clearly, his choice was the best one.
"She is beautiful," Visenya exclaimed and stopped in front of the mare.
She extended her hand and let the horse sniff it first before being allowed to touch it on the snout. Her smile grew, more natural, and there was this glow within her amber eyes as her hand moved towards the neck of the mighty creature.
"She is all yours for your stay in Dorne," he told her and handed her the reins. "Careful though, she is a bit of a racer."
She took the reins and kept petting the horse, observing its long neck, narrow head, its slimness and its swiftness. She took notice of the saddle, not the usual Westerosi one but one more accustomed for the horse. Lighter and thinner, it looked uncomfortable but she was not one to let appearances affect her decision.
She wasted no time placing one leg in the stirrup and gripping the saddle before kicking with her other leg.
In one smooth motion, she was on the saddle; faster than one could anticipate and she pulled the reins closer as the horse stirred. The feeling of a person on its back made the horse take a few steps left and right; eager to move.
"She is perfect," she said with a smirk, already feeling the muscles of the horse ready and one hand petting the neck of the mesmerizing creature she was lucky enough to ride.
She had never ridden a Sand Steed before, since they were local in Dorne and she had never stepped into the Southern Kingdom; at least until now. Of course, one could see that she was eager nonetheless to test the pace, the movement and of course; the speed of the horse.
Oberyn watched her, seeing how easily she approached and earned the trust of the horse. He also had a certain love for horseflesh, and he took pride in both his horse but also his riding skills. He knew that horses could easily sense someone's true nature and he was not disappointed when the white mare accepted Visenya.
His eyes never left her, observing how easily she climbed on the saddle and kept her horse under control; as if she was born knowing how to ride. The smirk on her lips was tempting him and he could feel the challenge that she was passively setting.
With one swift motion, he was also on top of the saddle and held the bloody red reins in one hand.
"How about a race, Princess?" he asked, seeing how both rider and horse were slowly pumping adrenaline through their bodies.
One could easily see the character of a rider once they were on top of a horse. Knights were always more stiff, restricted and held the reins close. Royals and highborns sat rather uncomfortably on the saddle, the reins held rather incorrectly and their faces did not show any true interest.
And then... there were people like her and him. The glow in their eyes, the faintest of finger movement and the relaxed but always ready posture; indicated someone who enjoyed riding and most likely even racing.
He was proven correct when her smirk grew and the challenge was evident all over her face.
"I hope you are not a sore loser, Prince Oberyn," she said and before he could comment, she kicked her horse with her heels.
As if expecting it, the white mare moved forward. Her pace quickly picked up going from a simple trot, to a faster one and by the time they had left the stables behind; the horse was doing an open gallop.
Visenya could feel the hot air and the particles of sand against her cheeks, her hair being pushed by it as they had been set loose while the muscles of the horse could be felt beneath her thighs as the horse picked up speed.
She was not on the lead for long though, as Oberyn was catching up with her and rather fast.
She glanced above her shoulder, seeing him riding with one hand and gaining ground with each passing second. She narrowed her eyes in determination, her lips pressed together as she focused forward; just as he was about to reach her.
She leaned her body up forward, balancing mostly on the stirrups and lifting herself from the saddle, gathering the reins closer as her horse sped up. She could feel its light steps against the cobble road that led away from Sunspear and towards the Water Gardens.
A smirk formed on her lips as she felt the freedom of riding in an open space, with no guards or worries or anyone stopping her. The smirk remained and the feeling of freedom was joined by amusement as Oberyn's horse was now side by side with hers.
She glanced at him, seeing him smirking as he also enjoyed the race but was still determined not to lose to her. She was not either but she did not hide any joy she had, as the two of them raced.
They took the turns so sharply, their horses had to lean sideways and one might even think the mighty creatures would fall but they kept going; as their riders expertly kept them balanced.
The race did not last long as due to the speed of their horses, the distance from Sunspear to the Water Gardens was covered relatively fast. The race was a tight call in the end, with both horses having competed to the last inch.
Oberyn and Visenya agreed to call it a tie and try again when they would return to Sunspear.
The Dragoness had a silly smile on her face, feeling her heart beating faster by the time she climbed off the mighty horse. It had been so long since she had galloped like that, fully free and without anyone stopping her; that she had missed it.
The feeling of good adrenaline, of freedom; had almost been forgotten by her. Now, she was thankful and glad she had accepted Oberyn's offer, although she was not going to tell him that. She could not risk boosting his ego more, though, she did suspect that he had figured it out by now.
After they had left their horses to drink some water and get some temporary rest, Oberyn became her guide to the famous Water Gardens of Dorne.
The Gardens were located on a beach next to the Summer Sea, three leagues to the west of Sunspear on a coastal road. Pale pink marble paved the gardens and courtyard, creating many paths that led all around and even inside.
Terraces overlooked the numerous pools and fountains of the Water Gardens, shaded by blood orange trees, which could be reached via a fluted pillar gallery leading to a triple archway.
It was like an oasis, a spot of green that stood out against the golden dunes of Dorne. The water fountains and pools were too many for one to count, ranging in both depth but also size.
The first thing one would notice would be the sound of children laughing and soon, they would be able to see it too. Children from all backgrounds were fostered there and they all played together, not once caring if one child was the next Prince of Dorne or a common fisherman.
Some children, those of younger age, played by the shallow pools and were naked; learning from a young age that there was no shame in being in your birthing suit. Others wore lighter clothes, merely covering specific private regions and letting them get soaked with water; sticking to their skin before drying up under the warm sun.
Visenya took notice of the guards, who were placed to keep an eye on both the children but also for any threats. Although in Dorne, no one truly harmed children. They were the most innocent and were protected at all costs.
That was one of the main reasons why Dorne did not often go to war, even after what happened to Elia. Because in war, it was always the children that paid the highest price when they had not even asked for it; let alone have a say in that.
It was something that she truly admired, respected and often tried to follow as much as she could.
The Dragoness came to a halt under the shade of a tree, eyes falling on the dozens of children running around. They were jumping into the pools, splashing one another during some game or just letting their legs rest in the water while talking by the edges.
There was peace and innocence all around, a sight so beautiful and rare that one might even call it a dream. She had never seen it before and she did not hide how much it enchanted her as her eyes went to every single child; the ages varying.
She saw them playing, their laughter bringing a small but sad smile to her lips.
Children in Dorne were lucky; they had their childhood intact and had the chance to just be kids. In Westeros, that was a luxury that not even royals or highborns could truly afford.
Visenya, for a small amount of time, had such a chance; when her siblings and her cousin were rather young. However, soon responsibilities, death and so much more stripped them of their innocence and threw them into the ruthless games that existed all around them.
She could imagine growing up like that, with a smile on her face and no worry about who her parents or her grandparents were. No worry that someone could harm her and only family was allowed to be around her.
Then, she could imagine how it would be for Trystan to grow like that. Have the chance to truly be a boy, a child and not grow up as fast as he had to. Perhaps he would smile more or would be a little bit more outspoken.
More than once she felt guilty upon seeing his serious and silent nature. She often questioned if she had overdone it but then she reminded herself that she had no choice. Tywin was already expecting a lot from the kid and she could not risk letting him grow without the proper experiences and ideas of how the world worked.
If she did, it would be as if sending him unarmed into the heat of battle. She knew he would not survive otherwise.
A small part of her thought of a different scenario, where she had been in Dorne all along. She could have more than one child and often spend her days watching them playing in the waters, having no care of what was going on around them and simply being children.
She was so lost in the sight, so lost in her thoughts that she barely realized when Oberyn moved to stand behind her. She only started to focus on the present when she felt his breath close to her ear and directed towards her cheek; a sign that he was tempted to go for her neck.
"Those children... could have been ours, you know. You could be the mother to all of them, blood-born or not," he said and rested his chin upon her shoulder. "Daenerys Targaryen did that and you could have done the same."
Oberyn had started to show her around, feeling adrenaline pumping through his veins. It had been so long since he had truly raced and he was not disappointed by the skills of the Dragoness.
With a horse breed she had no experience in, she had yet managed to handle it with expertise and almost make him lose. He didn't though, but for the sake of peace between them, he chose to call it a tie.
He took notice of her faint flustered cheeks and the slightly tangled-from-the-wind hair that fell on her shoulders; a sight so rare that he was not going to forget any time soon. He chose to guide her around and did not take long to lead her towards the main pools as that was the place the majority of children were gathered.
As he suspected, she seemed entranced by the sight of them; going as far as to stop and just watch in silent fascination. He did not interrupt her and simply watched her, taking notice of the different expressions that appeared on her face.
Yet, there was one dominant thing that he picked up; much to his surprise... sadness. There was this hidden sadness, a result of guilt and often the look of... if things were different. He knew that look, he had seen it sometimes on himself through the mirror while growing up; when he thought of different scenarios where his sister was alive and still by his side.
After spending some time in silence with her watching the children and him watching her, he decided to speak. However, instead of going the normal and boring route; he chose to try his luck yet again.
He doubted he would win anything from it but it would be a nice chance to try and get under her skin, once again. He moved to stand behind her with silent steps and then brought his face closer until it was next to her cheek.
His breath tickled her ear but his attention went to her exposed neck, so close to his lips. He could easily try but something stopped him and instead, he rested his chin on her shoulder.
"Those children... could have been ours, you know. You could be the mother to all of them, blood-born or not. Daenerys Targaryen did that and you could have done the same," he told her, eyes always studying her.
The small contact and perhaps his words seemed to snap her from her thoughts. She did not directly make a sharp move against him but she did not let him be that close to her either. She gently moved her shoulders, a passive indication to get his chin off her.
She had turned her head slightly to the side, just enough so she could see him as he complied and pulled his head back.
"No, they couldn't be," she confessed and looked forward again.
Even if she had married Oberyn, something was telling her that Rhaegar might still end up stealing Lyanna Stark. She would have joined the war and gotten harmed either way, forever unable to bear any more children without risking their lives and hers as well.
Her words seemed to puzzle Oberyn, who moved to be by her side. He tilted his head, trying to look at her, trying to decipher those very enigmatic phrases she would occasionally throw; as if knowing something more than he did.
"Why?" he asked, his mind not helping by bringing up the fact that she only had one son in 20 years. "Are you not fertile? Or is it something else?" he asked, out of mere curiosity.
He would not judge and she knew that. Elia had also been rather weak and both births had threatened her life; even left her weak and immobile in bed for a few months after them. It was not something a woman was to feel shame about, at least not in Dorne and he was not one to judge; even if a woman could not bear any children.
She turned her head to look at him in the eyes and something was just telling her to be honest. He was, perhaps, the only person after Tywin that could truly know without judging her; without even truly caring.
"An injury, caused by Robert's war hammer," she started and she could see his eyes darkening before she could even complete her sentence.
"He disfigured my uterus and made me unable to produce and carry a full-term child, not without both of us dying during childbirth, if not even earlier..." she let out a small sigh. "Tywin and I found out during my second pregnancy that led to an early miscarriage. I passed out from blood loss and my Maester thought I would not survive. I did in the end but it took me one week before I could open my eyes and regain my consciousness."
Oberyn had many stages when it came to anger. One could read the signs of each one of them but it was rare for one to see the anger she witnessed at that moment. Only Elia and her rape were capable of that, or so she thought.
His dark eyes seemed even darker, his expression dangerous.
Visenya knew that if Robert had still been alive, Oberyn would go after him one way or another; to exact revenge for her.
"Don't," she said as she extended her hand, holding his wrist gently, while her voice somehow bypassed his rising anger as if she was reading his thoughts. "I took my revenge on him, for everything he did... to me and my family," she reminded him, her voice stable but with a touch of softness. "And Tywin did not force me either. He accepted the fact and we moved on, with already an heir for him."
He scoffed, truly not believing her about Tywin but did not chase the topic. Instead, he chose to take a deep breath, doing his best to keep his temper in check. It was not always easy for him but he did try, for there was not much he could do at that moment. He could not stab or hit something, not with the children watching; for he did not wish to scare them.
"Good or else I would have taken that revenge for you," he said and earned a small smile from her.
"I do not doubt it. Mayhap yours would be more brutal than mine," she said, since her poison was rather mild and had simply worked along with the boar injuries; to fully finish Robert and send him to the Stranger. Of course, that plan truly worked only because she saw a Dragon Dream of a dying Robert as he talked about a boar. "Mayhap you would use Widow's Blood?" she suggested and she could see his lips twisting to a smirk.
"Among other choices, yes," he said, somehow pleased to hear of her rather extensive knowledge of poisons and substances. "I am surprised you did not somehow set him on wildfire," he joked and motioned for her to start walking, choosing to take her towards the blooming fruit-bearing trees.
Her smile turned into a smirk.
"If I had the chance to do so without losing my head, I would have," she commented as they walked side by side.
"Speaking of wildfire, word came of what happened to King's Landing," he said, his expression changing to a serious one now.
"And what did that word say?"
"Of you surviving an explosion of wildfire, not burnt and not harmed... and naked," he said, offering her a rather flirty and maybe even slightly perverted grin.
She rolled her eyes at his drama, choosing not to comment directly on the one thing that he truly had focused on.
"And what do you think happened?" she asked, eyes always glancing at him but keeping her attention mostly to the path ahead of them, to ensure she would not bump into anyone or anything.
He smirked again.
"That magically you can survive fire," he said, surprising her. Yet again, Oberyn was a man who had travelled to Essos and even knew magic could be used to change the effects of poisons. "A fitting thing considering how many call you Dragoness across the realms."
She could not help but smirk, feeling in a better mood and even playful.
"Well, what dragon would I be if I could not survive fire?" she asked rhetorically, amusing him enough that he chuckled and she followed suit; although hers was far more graceful and silent but still noticeable.
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Fun Fact
King Aegon IV had a firstborn named Daeron II, a bastard named Daemon Blackfyre, and Daenerys I Targaryen.
Daeron married Myriah Martell (the firstborn and Princess of Dorne). With the marriage, she moved to King's Landing and her brother Maron became the next Prince.
Later, Daenerys married Maron; although there were rumours she loved her half-brother Daemon. (He is also the same Daemon who started the first Blackfyre Rebellion.)
Maron built the Water Gardens for Daenerys, for their children and any highborn children to play there. One very hot day, she took pity on the children of the servants and guards; allowing them to play in the pools with the highborn children, starting a tradition that never stopped.
As she watched them play, she realized she could not tell highborn from lowborn. Naked, they were only innocent and vulnerable children; who all deserved life, love, and protection.
Daenerys told her eldest son to look at the children of the Water Gardens, and realize that they were the realm of Dorne, and to remember them in everything he did.
Something that each Dornish Prince and Princess that came after kept in mind when making any decision.