The Bastard Queen

The Day Before Forever Ends

Most of their small group had somewhat quickly dispersed. Eddard had left to attend a meeting with some of the small council members, the lesser known Riverlord having left alongside him. One of the Princess' chambermaids had called the girl, his now wife, away; the King and his siblings requested she break her fast with them. Thus leaving the Prince and the Blackfish.

Oberyn was confused as to how a Northern wedding was sealed per say without a kiss nor a bedding ceremony. Though he supposed there was no time for thoughts of his bride while Ellaria waited in their warm bed, no doubt trying to find good entertainment in his wake.

He was on his way to her, treacherous as it were to wed one woman and bed another, when the old knight had spoken.

"That was quite the show you put on." gruff with no time for fancy bullshit.

"There was no show, that was the northern wedding she wanted, was it not?" a quirk in the younger man's brow, still confident and assured.

Brynden scoffed, a dry, short laugh without humor. "You've been burdened with the role of a firstborn, and for the whoring lifestyle you live, it grieves you. But it requires you to bed a beautiful woman; two weddings meant that you could bed her twice without actually having to speak to her."

The Dornishmen tried to get a word in, defend his intentions or discard the old man's authority, but the Blackfish was not a man to be spoken over nor denied.

"I've lived with pikemen, knights, lordlings, and soldiers; every charmer plays the game the exact same. Before you think of discarding her and returning to your life when this is all over-"

"Are you threatening me, old man? If I'm not mistaken, that job belongs to someone else entirely." Oberyn is used to being threatened, though no one has tried to follow through on it since his boyhood. He wasn't going to scare away in any case, especially when he liked his odds.

"Listen here boy, cause I'm only going to say this once." The Blackfish got in his way, in his face, and spoke these words without malice but with calm intent. "I have no need to threaten you, that's already handled. Remember who she is in how you treat her. She can dance to any one of these court tunes, but she's mine, she's her mother, and she's of the North. That fish has bark, and you best not give her reason to bite."

Oberyn watched as the man left without another word.

He was accustomed to his character being portrayed as a surface dwelling whore with an unreasoned temper; a racist stereotype of the Dornish, lacking nuance. It was the shared thinking that all these northerners had of him that bothered him. All of these Lords, who had never met him, seemed to believe and generally expect that he would bring harm to her. As if he were the type of man to beat or abuse a woman when he no longer had use of her. It was as if they had all forgotten the kind of treatment that ruled as the reasoning for why Dorne craved separation from the crown and the Seven Kingdoms at large.

They all in some capacity thought him a villain. This is why the Dornish don't come north.

Perhaps it was wise that he rarely left the brothels unless required to do so. He might kill the next man who would accuse him of the slights done to his sister.

~'~'~'~

It had been an entire day; I had not seen Oberyn since our secret early morning vows the day before. I didn't want to make it seem like an ordeal, but I was concerned. Not that we were attached at the hip before, but we are married and there hasn't been a single word spoken between us.

That's not entirely fair, I had not sought him out either. I didn't want to seem desperate or like the clingy wives Ros complained about, so I left him be.