The Legacy

Part 30

"Allow me" Oberyn presented his open hand to Viserra. Sitting in front of the vanity, she handed him her necklace. He moved the hair and placed light kisses in it place. A shiver ran down Serra's spine.

"We're already late" Viserra muttered as she leaned back into him.

"Joffrey will still marry whether or not we are there" Oberyn smiled as his fingertips started to stroke along the exposed skin.

"This is true" Viserra's own smile grew and then vanished. "But Sansa"

"Of course" Oberyn nodded and placed the necklace delicately around her neck. Viserra's hand went to touch her lover's wedding gift to her. Twinning brass vipers around a spear, the chain was long enough where the tip of the spear met just above her navel. Today she wore it shorter, where it rested over her heart.

While her wedding day may not have been the one she dreamt of, it was the one she had chosen. Viserra would be the first to admit that politics won that day, not her heart. Surrounded by all of the women of the House Martell who prepared Viserra for that day. Without the help of Oberyn's eldest daughters it would have been even more stressful. She took her vows in front of only a few of the trusted individuals. Oberyn was tense and predatory during the whole ceremony. He refused to leave her side, until he had to. The only comfort that day was Oberyn's presence and his absence was always noted.

The pair exited their quarters and made their way to the Great Sept of Baelor. Oberyn and Viserra always stood out. The two were not only an attractive couple, but they were always dressed in the finest Dornish fashion. Oberyn wore his signature golden robe that displayed his bare chest and a sash around his waist. This robe had the same sigil as Viserra's necklace embroidered throughout in place of his house sigil. Viserra had chosen her gown with intention. Her gown was nearly as open as Oberyn's was in the chest, but not as deep. Where his outfit was one of a Dornish prince in all his glory, hers was harsh, and colder. The dark slate grey color of her dress brought the comfort and memories of the North. The thick material seemed to glint in the sunlight to reveal what looked like scales had been embroidered into the dress. Leather cinched her waist, and the Stark sigil displayed at the center as a reminder. A reminder to those who forgot, that Northern wolves still prowl among them.

"Sansa" Viserra called to her cousin as she walked with Tyrion. "You look beautiful pup" Viserra kissed Sansa on the forehead.

"Lady Viserra" Tyrion paused at Viserra's waist. "Prince Oberyn"

"Lord Tyrion" Oberyn greeted. "Sansa you are a sight" Oberyn kissed Sansa's hand softly.  The four of them walked in and took their places and watched the wedding of King Joffrey. Margaery of House Tyrell was a beauty indeed, one they had heard but never seen. Listening to the ceremony Viserra became tense, rage raised within her. Oberyn was always quick to notice her reactions, he offered her his arm and she wrapped her hand around his bicep. Lovingly he placed a kiss on her cheek, one to soothe but to also warn. Once Joffrey professed his love for Margaery, Sansa muttered something to Tyrion, something Viserra couldn't quite hear.

Oberyn, Viserra, and Sansa walked to the reception without Tyrion who promised to join later. The conversation was light and joyful. As they approached Viserra watched as Oberyn's eyes drifted to a woman on a platform, her body was contorted in such a way Sansa had to look away.

"Go introduce yourself" Viserra knowing her lover well, knew what he was thinking and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"I love you" Oberyn whispered into her ear as his hand slid along her curves and gripped a handful of her backside while kissing her passionately. When the kiss broke Oberyn separated from the two Northern ladies.