Fruitful
Summary: Oberyn Martell, a lover of great generosity, expresses his love primarily through acts of service. With a keen memory, he spares no effort to exceed expectations in bringing joy to his beloved.
A/N: as the world around me becomes entranced by "the orange theory," my thoughts wander to what he might do for his lover... so i wrote this; a casual smut-less headcanon using my AU, where his lover is my oc, Nala, from my upcoming multichapter fic, Whispers of Vendetta :D
i hope you enjoy it, friends xoxo
i also invite my fellow writers to do this with their favorite characters and share their headcanons with us <3
In the warm embrace of a Dornish afternoon, he reclined on their balcony, sharing the company of his beloved amid a plethora of succulent fruits and Dornish wine. His daughters engaged in rigorous training in front of them on the ground.
"My mother used to peel fruits for me," Nala chuckled, peeling a pear for Oberyn on the velvety lounge chair they shared. "I despised the stickiness afterward."
"Is that so?" Adjusting his position, he kissed her shoulder. "And why do you find yourself peeling fruits now?" Another kiss, this time on her neck.
"I don't know..." Turning her head to meet his gaze, she smiled. "Perhaps it's because I love you."
Unable to resist, Oberyn's arms enveloped her waist, pulling her close as he showered her cheeks with kisses, eliciting giggles from her.
"But I've never liked pears," she panted after his affectionate onslaught.
Arching an eyebrow, he inquired, "Then what is your preference, my little love?"
"Pomegranates," she answered, her gaze fixed on his lips.
"Exotic," he smirked.
"And oranges."
The Next Morning...
"Veros, I need you to fetch the preeminent farmer in Dorne and send them to Essos. Instruct them to procure the finest orange and pomegranate seeds," Oberyn commanded, his voice cutting through the air. He scanned his surroundings, his eyes piercing, as he added, "I seek nothing less than the absolute best."
"Yes, my prince."
Two Years Have Passed...
Amidst the verdant gardens behind their castle, Oberyn and Nala sauntered, the world a palette of nature's hues. Suddenly, she halted, her gaze fixated on a tree. "I don't recall this tree being here," Nala remarked, squinting to inspect the blossoms.
Smiling, Oberyn embraced her from behind, "Indeed, my love. I instructed our gardener to plant them a few years past."
"I love them." Nala whispered.
"I love you more," he thought.
A Few Years Later...
In the early morning hours, Oberyn stealthily slipped out of their chamber, having received confirmation from their gardener that the trees were poised to bear fruit imminently. For ten consecutive days, he continued this clandestine ritual, checking until the moment arrived when both trees proudly displayed bright, ripe produce. With an exuberant grin, he hastened back to their chamber.
"Nala, my love," he whispered gently, seeking to rouse her.
"What's happened? Are you well?" Nala startled awake, her eyes wide with concern. "Are the girls alright?"
"We are well, my love, fret not." Cupping her cheeks in his palms, Oberyn reassured her, his thumb smoothing over them gently. "I need to show you something."
"This early?" She furrowed her brow, puzzled by his excitement.
"Yes, come on with me."
Taking her hand, he guided her out of their bed, wrapping her shoulders with his shawl. Together, they descended the stairs, exiting the castle, and stepped into their garden.
"What are you about?" she inquired, perplexed, as he knelt before her, tapping on his shoulders.
"Climb onto my shoulders, my love."
At first, hesitation lingered in her gaze, a questioning look that suggested he might have lost his wits—my old man driven to madness.
"And your back?" she reminded him cautiously.
"Climb, Nala," he repeated, a raised brow emphasizing his determination.
Slowly, she ascended his back, perching on his shoulder, her legs dangling over his chest.
"Hold on tight," he advised before rising to his feet, moving slowly toward the tree.
The tree, vibrant and teeming with life, bore numerous flowers, yet the fruits remained elusive, concealed among the leaves, shy of human touch.
He sensed her recognition when she gasped, almost slipping from his shoulders, before he steadied her with his hands on her thighs.
"Oberyn..." she whispered, tears welling in her eyes.
Squeezing her thighs on his shoulder, he conveyed reassurance—I know, my little love.
"Can you reach them?" he inquired.
"Yes," she responded quietly, sniffling. She reached out to pluck the bright oranges, three in total. Moving a few paces to the next tree, she picked the sole pomegranate. She used the hem of her nightgown to cradle the fruits before Oberyn lowered himself, allowing her to dismount from his shoulders.
Standing there, holding her gown with the fruits, tears streaming down her cheeks, her lips trembling, she looked at him—her prince, the love of her life. Loving her as if she were the sole soul worthy of such devotion. Seven years had passed, and he had orchestrated all of this because she had once reminisced about her childhood without realizing the impact of her words. He stood before her, a broad grin on his face, proud of his intricate plan. His sweat-adorned bangs clung to his forehead, his chest bare, golden, and tough—tough except when he cradled her in his arms. Dressed in white trousers with bare feet, he looked as majestic as ever. His grin waned as soon as he noticed the tears in her eyes. Swiftly, he moved towards her, cupping her face.
"Why this sorrow, my love?" he inquired, his gaze flickering anxiously between her eyes.
"Not sorrow. I just—just love you," she confessed, breaking into sobs. He enveloped her in a warm embrace, cupping her head, smoothing her hair, and pressing kisses to her temples.
Lifting her face, he kissed her gently, once, twice. He continued until joy eclipsed sadness within her. His kisses persisted until her laughter rang in his ears—and by the Gods, there’s nothing sweeter than your lover’s laughter in your mouth.
"Why did you do all of this, Oberyn?" she queried, gazing at him. "You know I relish the daily fruits we have."
"I know," he replied, kissing her again. "I want you to feel my love for you in these trees. Witness it blossom every moon, taste it, nourish yourself with it, live through it."
Because that’s what your love does to me.
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