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msmorningstaarr · 3 months

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Holy and Heathen - Chapter 9 (A Fallen Star.)

Pairing: young!Oberyn MartellxF!Original Hightower Character

Word count: 6.8k

Chapter Warnings: fingering (f receiving), full of fluff stuff, oberyn finally being a good hubby;

ao3 | masterlist

Chapter Summary: Oberyn is understanding that part of a duty involves letting go of the past to live fully the present. But some actions demand consequences.

(Except for Melara Hightower, all characters do not belong to me but to George RR Martin, author of the 'A Song of Ice and Fire' book series.)

Before you read... I'm sorry for taking so long. I must confess I feel without motivation nowadays, but I'm trying my best to finish this story <3 likes, reblogs and comments are totally welcome!

Oberyn

Melara slumbered peacefully on his arms as the glimpses of sunshine made its way throughout his private quarters. Her blonde hair was messy and wild in a way he only saw on their first night. The warmth of her body innocently rubbing against his caused a sensation of comfort and relaxation. He had to admit that his life seemed too different and full of guilt as deeper he dived into marital life, but the little lady had nothing to do with it. His fingers traced where he assaulted her. The bruises were disappearing, although still visible. No man should ever be cruel towards a lady, especially when the lady in question was his own lady wife and the day they fought still haunted him until this day, even after her forgiveness.

Last night, he left that tavern adamant on his decision to make that feast as chaotic as possible. Wine had taken control over his head and he wanted to torment his mother, Melara, the drunk ones in the dance floor or simply anyone who would cross his path. He was angry at the world that Elia seemed so happy without him around. Jealousy screamed in his ears as he imagined dragon seed sowing inside of Elia instead of his own. As he rode back to the castle that night, he wanted everyone to feel at least a small part of everything he felt regarding Elia’s pregnancy… until he saw those scared eyes of Melara, not blinking for a moment once Oberyn extended his hand at her for a dance.

The memory of his lady wife’s frightened gaze made his mind go on a spiral of turmoil and he realised that he had no right to interfere and ruin one more thing for her, not that night. The more he would talk to her, the more he could see the vulnerability through her eyes and how scared of him she was, it struck a chord within him, awakening a sense of responsibility and remorse. As the prince gently ran his fingers over the fading bruises, he couldn't shake the guilt that laid over him. No matter how much he tried to justify his actions as a means to cope with his own frustrations, he knew he had crossed a line.

Oberyn could not upgrade his feelings towards Lady Melara from one day to another swiftly. However, after being inside her walls - beyond fucking her, the dornish prince could see more and more of another side of her. He noticed her fingers intertwining on his every time she wished to speak. He noticed her eyes narrowing as her cheeks blushed once he spoke some explicit sentence. He grinned at how clumsy she could be at times when she would dance with him. He could finally appreciate how soft her lips were every time his own lips encountered hers. Maybe it was still the fear and suspicion over him, but Oberyn finally would feel like his lonely star was falling from the sky and being nearer to him, to become human. Melara was quite different from Elia, but her charm was undeniable and unique under his eyes. Oberyn felt privileged, once the Daynes were not the only ones with a piece of a fallen star; if they forged a sword, involuntarily the salty prince forged a wife.

The sunlight filtering into the room cast a warm glow on Melara's peaceful face. In that moment, Oberyn felt a wave of protectiveness and tenderness. He swore to himself that he would be a better husband, one who didn't let his monsters control him. He couldn't erase the past, but he could shape the future. If Elia could so easily fall for Rhaegar and cast him aside, why not could he grow to like Melara as well? He knew for a fact that his silver princess had the same melancholic gaze as Elia’s silver prince had.

What distressed Oberyn was the fact that Elia seemed to be so happy without him and yet, she held his feelings with enticing words of loving more than one person at the same time. Slowly, his mind had peace with the fact that loving Elia could be nothing more than longing and he knew his sister knows it too, although likes flying near the sun, never daring to touch it. Elia had Rhaegar and she seemed more than happy around him, Melara deserved to feel as happy too. His mother’s words at their breakfast enlightened his head and a sense of duty towards his house and family started to make sense. It could doom everything if anyone could read any content of their letters indeed. He stared at Melara once more and understood a life-changing revelation for his life: being mature was the only way out. He had nowhere to go; he was the heir, he was married and he was a man of his word. Melara’s dutiful presence made sense to him now, once legacy weighed over him.

Carefully disentangling himself from Melara's sleeping form, Oberyn rose from the bed and moved to a nearby table where a decanter of water and a basin were set. As he cleaned his face and splashed water on it, his own reflection in the mirror stared back at him, metaphorically using it as a manner to self-reflect on his actions. For so long, Oberyn never thought of feeling guilt for indulging himself with someone and here he was, drowning in guilty at every time he would remember the evening he fucked the tavern girl. He repeated himself that his lady wife would never know, she was just a servant girl somewhere in the desert village, in a random tavern. He would never see that woman again. The salty prince stared at his silver princess, watching her slender features perfectly shaped on that thin nightgown and slowly his digits traced gentle circles on her cheeks and soon after, waking up his wife.

"Good morning, husband." Melara said, yawning and pulling her hair behind her ear as he curled his lips on a smile. The princess sat on the bed and her eyes seemed wary, her body expression felt tense. Has he done something wrong?

"Good morning, wife." Oberyn replied to her, watching her sit down. The words from Elia’s last letter echoed in his mind and he wondered: could he be capable of loving more than one person at the same time? The salty prince beamed at his wife, who shrunk her body and joined her legs as she sat in bed. Her little eyes stared at him, not blinking for a second and with unexplainable emotions. She seemed to be uneasy, fearful and suspicious, which made the guilty devour his thoughts once more. Did Oberyn have the power to provoke so many hard feelings on her?

"Look at me properly when I speak to you, princess," Oberyn said, with a smug smile.

Melara then raised her face and adjusted her posture to stare at him, cheeks burning red in heat of embarrassment.

"Pardon me, husband." Melara tried to cover the bruised marks with her hands as she looked away and tried to leave the bed, but Oberyn was quick to hold her by cupping her face, bringing his silver princess closer to him.

"Don’t be." He muttered, caressing her chin. "Do I cause some sort of fear in you?"

The blonde girl sighed, biting her lips as her eyes stared at the ceilings in a search of words. "I-I…" She tried to speak.

"Be honest to me, Melara." Oberyn endured his words and leaned closer to his wife. "Do I frighten you?"

Already tearing and with nowhere to go, her lips left a low ‘yes’ leave her lips, which made Oberyn stare at her in silence, trying to find his own words to reply to it. However, after some taciturn minutes, his lips would finally open up once more.

"The day I first saw you in King’s Landing you were outstanding, my lady. I have to admit it." He beginned. "I must say I was not interested in you, even told Queen Rhaella I had no desire to grow any type of affection for you… my heart was busy with other people. However, I always thought of you as someone false, secretly involved in debauchery, hiding under righteousness to cover any of your failures, sins you may commit. That thought enticed my desires, I wanted to fuck your holiness away," His hands traced her arms once more, glancing at the upper members. "Still, the night you cried because we touched each other before our wedding I could see you were not lying and you were indeed innocent. And yet I wondered ‘how can someone this naive be this fearless?’ because you have only smiled at me once, at our wedding night after I made you come so much you were close to passing out. Not even one more smile, beam or slight grin after that, my lady." With this sentence, Oberyn held her hands and kissed them, gently. "Ever since I met you, I have been spiralling in guilt, I must confess. I should never have pushed you, assaulted you. I should never raise my voice at you. I should be more compassionate with you. For I have no wish to take the fearless gaze from your eyes, Melara."

"My prince…" Melara tried to speak, but Oberyn came closer and involved his arms around her waist, forcing her to straddle his thighs. She breathed heavily as the bright blue sea of her eyes met his dark brown, widow’s peek. Oberyn rubbed his nose against hers and his words fastly cut hers.

"Please, let me in, Melara." He pleaded, grabbing the back of her neck to pull her closer. "I promise to let my guard down for you to come in too."

Melara slowly touched her lips on his, brushing it as her fingertips caressed his face, allowing the contact between them. Oberyn squeezed her hips and his tongue invaded her mouth, exploring with eagerness and desire. Feeling the heat increase between both of them, Oberyn locked his wife in his arms, wishing that moment to never end. Melara tasted so differently now with sobriety taking care of him. Her smell was everywhere, her lips were plump and soft, her body was hot, nipples piercing through the night dress and rubbing against his bare chest as their tongues danced in full lust.

"My lord… husband…" Melara dropped her words while Oberyn kissed her neck and his hot breath caused goosebumps throughout her pale skin. The salty prince held her tight, pressing her centre against his growing bulge and letting a soft moan leave her lips. He smirked at the sight. "We did it last night… do you wish to do it again?" Then, Oberyn stopped his touches and only held her by the waist.

Her innocence screaming through her eyes went back into something as sweet as honey. Something he found to be annoying the old days now he even thought as sweet to see her eyes intensely gazing at him, mouth dried as she swallowed her spit.

"You do not wish to be touched?" Oberyn asked, gently.

Melara’s breath caught in her throat as Oberyn’s question hung in the air, and she hesitated for a moment before finding her voice. "No, husband. I do wish to be touched," she whispered, her eyes still locked with his.

Oberyn’s gaze softened as he looked into her eyes, his hands tenderly caressing her waist. "Your desire must matter to me, Melara. I won’t push you into anything you’re not comfortable with." His hands slowly started to hold and lift her simple nightdress as he stared at her. "I know you don’t wish to use my mouth, fingers on you or undress you, but let me do this at least for once." Melara could not blink her eyes and swallowed her own spit as Oberyn kept undressing her. "Let me please you. I am tired of fucking you like an old, frail man… in only one position and almost fully clothed. Let me taste you like you deserve, my lady. Let me see your teats and suckle on them before our children do. Let me swim my tongue on your cunt as I eat you like it’s my last meal. Let me see your bare body underneath or on top of mine." Oberyn noticed her nails pressing against his shoulder and her wetness leaving a small mark on his trousers. He smirked at the feeling and his cock already gave signs of excitement. Her hips were already fully exposed. "I promise I’ll pray with you after we finish committing our sinful activities. I shall go even further and fast with you, so the Gods can see how willing to please you I am."

Melara overheated immediately and pouted her lips, ashamed. "Husband…" She moaned as Oberyn smugly smiled.

"You’re already wet, wife. Let me take care of this." Oberyn carefully controlled her hips, bouncing it back and forth as his fallen star whimpered, riding his thigh. "I see how keen you are when it comes to riding, my wife," he whispered when bit her ear. Melara arched her head back, lifting her arms so the salty prince could finish leaving her nude to his sight.

And there she was, fully naked in his presence. Her hands tried to cover her nudity immediately in shame, however, Oberyn was quick to prevent her actions and admired her nipples on display for him. His glance lowered to her belly and hips and then returned to her face, deeply blushing. "Don’t feel embarrassed. I am already bewitched by your body, my fallen star."

His fingers reached her lips once more, as a sign of the intimacy he wanted to begin and his digits traced desperate moves onto her soft lips but his own reached her neck to kiss and nibble it. Melara squirmed and Oberyn locked his arms around her thin waist, eager for more. "Lay down," Oberyn softly commanded and Melara complied, still attempting to shield herself from his intense gaze. The vulnerability in her eyes did not go unnoticed by Oberyn, who understood the delicate nature of this moment.

A blend of desire and vulnerability as Oberyn and Melara navigated the uncharted waters of intimacy. Oberyn's gaze lingered on Melara's exposed form, appreciating the beauty that lay before him. His words were both a plea and a promise, a request for consent and a declaration of his intent to please her.

Melara, blushing and overwhelmed, tried to cover herself instinctively, but Oberyn's confident touch and commanding presence prevented her from concealing her nakedness. His admiration for her body, expressed with both words and actions, was a testament to the passion that simmered between them.

Oberyn's fingertips traced the contours of Melara's lips, a gesture that spoke of the intimacy he sought to explore. His kisses on her neck sent shivers down her spine, and the room vibrated alongside her voiced desire.

As Melara remained laying down, her hands covering her breasts and her legs crossed, Oberyn hovered over her. He admired her sunburnt skin, a contrast to his sun-kissed skin, that spoke of Dorne's relentless sun. His fingers gently moved to her hands, coaxing them away from her chest.

"Don't hide from me, my fallen star," he murmured, his voice a blend of tenderness and desire. "I want to see all of you, to know every inch of the woman I wish to please."

With a gentle touch, he guided her hands away, allowing her to lay exposed beneath him. The room seemed to pulse with the shared heartbeat of Oberyn and Melara. As their bodies intertwined, Oberyn carefully split her legs open for him and kept looking at the apex of her thighs, salivating in lust. Following his natural instincts, his index pressed against her swollen clit and it made Melara blush even more – if possible, as she suppressed her moan. "I don’t want you to hide those moans from me either, my wife." He said, circling his finger on her throbbing sweet spot. The silver princess could not hold back anymore and her hands covered her eyes as she tried to release her tension when Oberyn carefully touched her cunt and her throat let out quiet moans whilst Oberyn drove her to pure bliss.

The salty prince felt so satisfied to see her bare body squirming and enjoying herself that his own length leaked that early juice to every small move Melara did under his touches. His index increased his pace on her clit the faster he moved, the louder she screamed and Oberyn was already convinced that everyone in the castle could hear her sweet sounds of pleasure. “Let go, fallen star…”

Melara already gave signs of an imminent climax reaching her body and immediately raised her upper body to face Oberyn, trembling her body and finally releasing the tension like waves crashing rocks. The prince grinned at her numb body recovering in the mattress after so many actions from Oberyn’s fingers, which he used to introduce inside of his lady wife and take a last sigh from her mouth. He leaves her cunt full of her wetness and tastes it with his own lips, fully pleased to have a piece of her climax with him. “Was it of your liking?” Oberyn asked, laying by her side as the princess breathed heavily.

Melara turned to face him and opened a sly smile. “Yes, husband.” She whispered, closing her eyes to feel Oberyn caressing her face. He could notice how relaxed and less serious she was now, leaving him under the impression that she no longer was under constant guard up to him and finally let him inside her world. “D-did you enjoy it, husband?”

Oberyn smiled mischievously and passed his fingertips over her body. “You have no idea of how much I did, wife.” He replied, now tracing his fingers over her pale skin. “Do you feel any sort of guilt after I did it to you?”

Melara's sly smile lingered as Oberyn's fingers traced over her face and body. The atmosphere between them had shifted, a newfound ease replacing the earlier tension. As Oberyn continued to explore her skin with gentle caresses, Melara's vulnerability and openness were evident.

She hesitated for a moment before responding to his question, her eyes meeting his. "No, husband," she replied softly. "I don't feel guilt. It was... different than I expected. But not in a bad way."

Oberyn's mischievous grin persisted as he observed her reactions. "Different, you say?" he teased. "Well, my lady, we've only just begun to explore each other. There's much more to discover, don't you think?"

Melara blushed at his playful tone but couldn't help but smile back. The walls that had once surrounded her seemed to be crumbling, allowing room for genuine connection and understanding to grow.

Oberyn pressed a lingering kiss on her forehead. "I want you to feel no shame or guilt, Melara. We are partners in this journey, and your desires matter to me. Whatever we explore together, it's a shared experience."

Melara nodded her head and her eyes seemed to stare at a blank spot, thinking about that small dialogue between them. Oberyn watched her carefully and sat on bed, noticing his member getting flaccid after not engaging in any action.

Oberyn observed Melara's contemplative expression, realising that their exchange had left an impact on her. As he sat on the bed, he continued to caress her cheek gently, a silent reassurance that he was there with her in the aftermath of their shared intimacy.

Melara, lost in her thoughts, finally turned her gaze towards him. "It's just... I never thought it could be like this," she admitted, her voice a mix of curiosity and vulnerability.

Oberyn chuckled softly. Melara, deep in her thoughts, eventually turned her gaze toward him. "I never imagined this side of marriage," she admitted, her voice soft yet filled with curiosity. "It's both frightening and... intriguing."

Oberyn chuckled, his playful demeanour softened by a genuine warmth. "Marriage is a journey, my lady. It holds surprises, challenges, and pleasures. What matters is that we navigate it together."

As he sat on the bed, Melara joined him, and they shared a quiet moment, the air thick with the unspoken. Oberyn's gaze remained tender, a silent assurance that they were treading this unfamiliar path as equals. “Do you wish to finish your… desires too?” Melara asked, with a hint of unease.

Oberyn smirked and looked at her, surprised with her sudden move. “I had no idea I had unlocked a new personality in you, my lady.” He said, giggling.

Melara lowered her head, ashamedly. “I thought I should expect to comply with your wishes, husband…”

Oberyn scratched his eyebrows, trying to think of a response to that passive sentence coming from his wife’s lips. For him, part of feeling Melara as an equal was also in his sexual desires. How could he teach her that she also could be entitled to an opinion? It was a new situation for him, but the prince was trying actively to be patient with her, for he knew well that Faith and her conservative family had put her through. “You are completely entitled to an opinion, my lady. Just like that day you requested me to send Obara and Nymeria away,” he said, staring at her with an arrogant gaze. “If you do not wish for me to fuck you with my cock, then I will not. This part of me and you being equals as a couple.”

Melara looked at Oberyn with a mix of surprise and relief as he spoke. His acknowledgment of her agency in their intimate moments was a revelation, and it resonated deeply with her. She had expected a different reaction, a response that mirrored the societal norms she had grown up with. Oberyn's unconventional approach caught her off guard.

The weight of expectation seemed to lift from Melara's shoulders. Her unease turned into a subtle smile, and she met Oberyn's gaze with newfound confidence. "Thank you, husband," she replied, her voice holding a blend of gratitude and surprise. "I appreciate your understanding."

"Your desires matter, Melara," Oberyn reiterated, his hand finding hers. "We'll explore at a pace comfortable for both of us. And if there's anything you wish to share or ask, know that I am here."

Melara nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. The connection between them deepened in the shared vulnerability, a bridge built on trust and understanding. The room, once charged with passion, now held a different energy, an intimacy that extended beyond the physical.

“Do you still wish to go see Planky Town, my wife?” Oberyn asked, still holding her hand. Oberyn's question brought a twinkle to Melara's eyes, and she nodded enthusiastically. The newfound understanding and connection between them seemed to infuse a sense of joy into the room. As they held hands, the atmosphere shifted from the intimate aftermath of their shared vulnerability to a lighter, more carefree energy.

"Yes, Oberyn," Melara replied eagerly. "I would like that."

Oberyn squeezed her hand affectionately, appreciating the genuine enthusiasm in her response. As they discussed the details of their visit to Planky Town, the air in the room seemed charged with a different kind of excitement. The dornish prince was happy to see Melara interested in blending with her subjects and actually, even surprised. He never really considered her to be a person who actually cared to look after the poor and visit those damp places, but after recollecting the memory of her being a former servant of the Faith of the Seven, her attitude made sense to him.

“Go to your chambers and fetch your handmaidens to be ready. But make sure to use a veil, I don’t want you to be more sunburnt as we walk through the desert.” He softly commanded his wife, who did as he said quickly, leaving him alone in his chambers to prepare himself for the day Oberyn promised Melara.

————

Oberyn usually rode on horse to the village whenever he decided to visit there, but with Melara in his company, he felt it was most appropriate for her to go on a chariot by his side, admiring the sultry dunes of sand along the way by her window. Before he could get ready himself, the red viper commanded one of his servants to deliver a message to Melara’s handmaidens to fetch her a specific dress he gave her. It belonged to Elia and it was orange, with mustard sleeves, quite similar to a tunic in fact. The dress carried beads and golden pearls embroidered in it and it suited too well with the yellow veil she chose for the occasion. Besides ravishing her with gold and jewellery, Melara only walked with a few accessories: an Seven Pointed silver ring and the Valyrian Steel necklace he gave her, alternating it with a sapphire necklace she carried from her homeland. That day she was addressed with a golden necklace, carved with orange gems. In her hand, Melara carried a small fan to refresh her face as the chariot made his way. It wasn’t a long trip, but Oberyn wanted to make it as comfortable as possible. He thought about bringing his daughters, but figured he would not push them onto Melara’s throat yet. Oberyn felt too distant from his children also, and missed being in their company, although the last events of his life and the constant need to administrate the household alongside Ysilla.

“Do you think the people will like me?” Melara asked, staring out of the chariot window at the passing scenery of the Dornish landscape. The sun cast a warm glow on her features, and her eyes held a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

Oberyn, who was seated beside her, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, providing a reassuring squeeze. "I have to admit you are quite the charming person when you seem relaxed as you are now, my fallen star," he replied with a smirk. "Dorne is a land that values strength, resilience, and beauty. You possess all of that. But I do fear they will find your pale skin quite strange." Oberyn joked and giggled.

Melara's lips curled into a shy smile. The orange dress, once worn by Elia, adorned her like a regal mantle. The golden necklace and delicate accessories added a touch of elegance, making her presence captivating.

As the chariot made its way toward Planky Town, the small entourage garnered the attention of onlookers. The common folk paused in their daily activities to catch a glimpse of their Prince and his new lady. Whispers and murmurs followed their passage, the people curious about the woman who now shared the prince's company.

Melara's fan delicately waved in front of her face as she maintained her composure. The bustling sounds of the village grew louder as they approached, and Oberyn could sense the mixture of excitement and nervousness in his wife.

"You'll see, Melara," Oberyn whispered, his voice a comforting murmur. "Dorne is a place that appreciates authenticity. Be yourself, and they will appreciate you for who you are."

As the chariot entered Planky Town, the vibrant colours and lively atmosphere welcomed Oberyn and Melara. The adventure into the heart of Dorne had begun, and the red viper felt ready to present Melara to their future subjects. The salty prince paid attention to Melara and smiled to see how enchanted she was with the small village.

There was no one fanning her and yet, the silver princess seemed to ignore this fact and walked anxiously looking at the traders, merchants and even the street urchins. Her hands squeezed his hand every time someone would offer her something, even a simple bow and a ‘your highness’ as a sign of respect to their overlord. It was the first time Oberyn would see Melara actually engaged in something and actually showing her feelings towards people and situations. She was nothing intense, though. However, the impact the small city had on her was visible in her curious eyes.

A peasant approached them and Oberyn put his hand on his dagger, promptly staying on guard with his men and gently holding the princess. “Please, my lord, my lady, I am starving…” the man said, faintly. Melara stayed silent in front of him, her hands joined together as she hesitantly moved her lips, apparently thinking about doing something. The princess looked at Oberyn and awaited for any sign of allowing her to act and the prince just nodded, quietly. The man was stinking, his lips were pale and dehydrated, just a few strings of hair on his head and a huge open wound on his right foot.

“Fetch this man some water and bring him food.” She commanded, kneeling in front of the man. Her hands delicately signed for him to show his feet and embarrassed, he tried to raise her immediately. “My lady…” He fastly tried to speak, but Melara blocked his actions with a strange force. One of her servants quickly left and Oberyn watched her take care of the frail man in front of them. He never could imagine that Melara had a heart of gold like this. Although still serious, she was calmly praying with him and checking on the bloody sore affecting his skin.

“Seven blessings upon you, my lady," the frail man whispered, tears welling up in his eyes as Melara attended to his wounds. The sincerity in her actions spoke louder than any words, and Oberyn couldn't help but feel a mixture of surprise and admiration for his wife's unexpected kindness.

The servant returned with water, food and a few ointments prepared by a random merchant on the street, figuring the silver princess could actually try something to heal the man. Melara ensured the man had enough to quench his thirst and satisfy his hunger. The act of compassion displayed by the princess drew the attention of the commoners, and whispers of approval rippled through the crowd.

Oberyn observed the scene, a subtle smile playing on his lips. His fallen star, who had once been perceived as reserved and distant, revealed a side of herself that few had seen. The contrast between her serious demeanour and the genuine care she bestowed upon the impoverished man created a captivating image.

The peasant, overwhelmed by gratitude, repeatedly expressed his thanks to Melara. "You are a kind soul, my lady. Seven Blessings for you and your lord husband."

Melara and Oberyn replied with a simple nod, her gaze still focused on treating the man's wounds. The prince and princess resumed their journey through Planky Town, leaving behind a moment that resonated with the people; a princess who, despite her noble status, had extended a compassionate hand to those in need.

Oberyn, now seeing Melara in a new light, couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. In only one day allowing himself to grow any sort of feeling for his wife, he would not expect to unveil the layers that comprised the woman who had become his princess. However, stubborn as he is, Elia’s memory still lingered on his mind and traces of guilt haunted him every time he thought about moving on from her, even if he was aware she was already under the spell of Prince Rhaegar and far away from him. It was foolish, stupid of him to maintain his head so obsessed with a forbidden passion that affected him intensely. Despite his growing admiration for Melara's compassion and strength, a part of him remained tethered to the past, unable to fully let go of the forbidden passion he harboured for his sister.

Guilt gnawed at him again, a constant reminder of the choices he had made and the consequences they had wrought. The memory of Elia, her smile and her touch ghosted him and refused to release its hold on his soul. Yet, amidst the turmoil of his emotions, Oberyn found solace in the presence of Melara. Her quiet strength and unwavering compassion offered him a glimpse of hope, a beacon of light in the darkness that threatened to consume him.

“You showed yourself to be very skillful using ointments in that man.” Oberyn pointed out, walking amongst the peasants.

Melara just lowered her head and nodded. “In the Starry Sept you learn all kinds of things when you’re a novice,” she replied. “I did took care of a man in the Starry Sept, husband. The former High Septon.” As she mentioned it, her eyes seemed a bit numb, saddened for a brief moment. The familiar melancholy reached her again thinking of him.

“Is he dead by now?” Oberyn asked, staring at her.

“Likely, yes.” Melara replied, lowering her eyes and sighing heavily.

Oberyn observed Melara's expression, sensing the sorrow that crept into her eyes at the mention of the former High Septon. The weight of the past seemed to press on her, and he could see the traces of melancholy etched on her face.

"Death often finds us all, one way or another," Oberyn remarked, his voice a mixture of understanding and empathy. "In the world we live in, even the highest and the holiest are not immune to its grasp."

Melara nodded in acknowledgment, her gaze fixed on the ground. "It seems you've had your share of encounters with it. The High Septon, your mother and... You possess a kindness not commonly found in our world."

Melara glanced at him, her expression a mix of acknowledgment and sorrow. "Kindness may be a rarity, but it costs nothing to offer it," she replied softly. "I learned that with the Gods."

Oberyn remained silent for a moment, contemplating her words. He couldn't deny the truth in them. In the harsh reality of their world, where power and strength often dictated outcomes, a simple act of kindness stood out.

The prince raised his eyebrows as he stared at a blank spot amongst the street of merchants. “Since you were so dexterous with the ointments, I should take you to see my stove where I keep my poisons. Would you like that?”

Melara turned her eyes to him, surprised. “So is it true that you know about poisons?”

Oberyn grinned and squeezed her hand. “Yes. Mother had an alchemist from Lys to teach me once she noticed I took interest in the subject. Elia loved watching me manipulate it too.”

Melara looked at Oberyn with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. “The two years I was in Volantis I also learned a great deal with a magister.” The revelation that Oberyn had knowledge of poisons added another layer to the bonding they were forming with each other. The notion of visiting his personal space where he kept such substances honestly bothered him because it was a change of heart he felt he had to do. However, he was no longer interested in making Melara pass as an outsider in his life; the girl, although cautious, seemed pretty satisfied with the sudden change from her lord husband and Oberyn, as a sad bird in its cage had learned to live with the lack of freedom. If he could not have his freedom, he would at least enjoy what was left for him.

"Poisons are a dangerous craft," she remarked, her voice cautious. "What purpose does it serve for you to keep them?"

Oberyn's grin widened, and he continued leading her through the lively streets. "Knowledge is power, my fallen star. And in this world, one must be well-acquainted with various forms of power to navigate it. Besides, it's not only about harm. Sometimes, poisons can be the cure when used with the right intent and understanding."

Melara nodded thoughtfully, considering his words. For a moment, she stopped her walking and faced Oberyn in silence, until she wasn’t. “Why?”

Oberyn faced Melara, with a puzzled expression. “What do you mean, my lady?”

Melara bit her lips and faltered her words there, lowering her head. “Why do you treat me so gently after being distant?” She asked, practically soundless.

Oberyn sighed and squeezed her hands as she stared at him. “Because I no longer wish to fight the cage I was locked into with you. Of what is worth to yearn for freedom if I hurt you in the process?”

“You are not the one to blame, more of one to pity over the fact you could not follow your wish to be a Septa.” The dornish prince cupped her face with one hand, gazing intensely at her as he saw a glimpse of a tear fall from Melara’s eyes right there, in front of a crowd. “We are bound as a couple, you and I, Melara. From the day I took you as my wife, you and I became one soul, one flesh, one heart. If I hurt you, I hurt myself. Therefore, I find no joy in causing you pain. You deserve more than I have given you.”

Melara's eyes shimmered with emotion as she listened to Oberyn's heartfelt words. She reached up to touch his hand that cupped her face, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Thank you, my prince," she whispered softly.

Oberyn leaned down to press a gentle kiss on her forehead, his expression tender. "You are my princess, Melara. And I will do everything in my power to ensure that you feel safe and cherished every day."

With that, they resumed their walk, hand in hand, their bond strengthened by understanding and acceptance. As they disappeared into the streets, Melara started asking him questions about Essos, his abilities with poison and studies he did with scholars all around the planet. The silver princess was reserved but it was clear her interest upon Oberyn’s adventures and he could not deny his liking for that interaction and the attention he was receiving for someone he was finally seeing as his equal, not an inanimate object for him to produce heirs.

And with time passing Melara gave him signs of hunger, once both of them had not broken their fasts before leaving to see the village. As a sign of good will, Oberyn let her pick any place to eat by her choice… a terrible choice, he thought. Melara looked at all the taverns and disliked them immediately, almost. ‘The smell is not good’, or she would simply stare at the place for brief seconds until her mind decided it was not what she wanted. Oberyn was slightly annoyed, but complied with an unknown stock of patience with his lady wife.

Of so many tents, Melara chose a quite familiar and specific tavern. Its walls were grey, but it was loud and the food smelled good. The scent of pepper and chicken invaded his nose, alongside Melara’s who asked her husband if they could eat there.

The address happened to be the same he visited last day and fucked the servant. In all honesty, Oberyn would never want his wife to be in the same establishment where he fucked other woman, knowing that the mysterious commoner he bedded could be there, serving him and Melara. Her eyes seemed so eager to explore the saloon, he had no right to deny her that. So with a sly nod, Oberyn allowed his silver princess to eat there with him.

As she entered the establishment, the owners of the place quickly arranged for someone to serve the prince and princess and treats of all kinds arrived to them. Fresh fruits, the best dornish red they could fetch and breads of all kinds. Melara thanked them all while her cheeks burned red, once she was not used to having all the attention on her. Oberyn found sweet the way she would react to being pampered and, with time, he felt more comfortable once there was no signal of the girl he fucked being around.

“Get used to being treated like this. People cherish the Martells too much, my princess.” Oberyn stated, smirking before swallowing a grape. Melara pouted and before she could say anything, a loud noise from behind her would reach her attention. Oberyn, for the first time, would feel as if his heart was leaving his chest. The same way he would feel if his mother or nurse caught him doing something mischievous. There she was, the same girl he fucked staring at them. She looked pale and frightened, her eyes were puffy and appeared to be completely flabbergasted after throwing the jar of wine on the floor. Could all that reaction be only due to seeing him?

“Melara.” Said the girl, trembling terribly. How did she know his wife like this? The silver princess looked behind and petrified, stared back at Oberyn briefly before standing up.

“Lya.” Melara replied and the strange girl hugged her, still shaking.

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