Bringing the Dawn

XLIX.

Warning: Detailed torture scene at the beginning. I have put stars around it if this is something you do not want to read

Oberyn Martell

Sunspear, 300AC

***

The scream that left the beast as the tip of his spear grazed along an area that had yet to be touched was music to his ears. Slowly dragging it along not deep enough to kill because no, he could not have that. For almost eighteen years he had dreamt of the day he would have the creature that had been ordered by the Old Lion to kill his sweet sister and her babes- only one of which he succeeded with thanks to a clever plot from none other than Lannister's. Granted, Lannister's that were so far down in the line of succession and through a female to boot, they were still Lannister's. As much as Oberyn wanted to thank the pair for what they had done by telling them of the order from overhearing it from Kevan Lannister in Lannisport, he could not bring it in him to do so.

Although the irony of the situation was such sweet nectar. Like he had gone months eating food they gave to their prisoners and finally biting into a deliciously spiced pie and a syrupy slice of cake covered in freshly crushed and toasted nuts. Closing his eyes and letting a smile form on his face as the wails of pain echoed loudly in the room. He'd had him in Sunspear's dungeons for a month now, and yet he had still not tired in putting the beast through every kind of torture he could think of. Whether that be manticore venom mixed with a potion he had been gifted by the Warlock's of Qarth and just before he succumbed to both gave him the antidote to carving into his skin like he were simply a canvas and his spear was the quill.

It was pitiful really, a monster as tall and as strong as the Mountain screaming in delicious agony at the end of a spear tip. Nay, he deserved much worse than this. Grabbing the knife he had strapped to his hip and beginning to trace his skin looking for a place that had yet to be touched and frowning at realising there was none. At first, he had tried to fight back, but the numerous chains they had managed to attach to his limbs were tight which left him no room to break free. Each limb spread out on the large board where there were wheels attached. A torture method that few people knew existed and House Nymeros Martell wanted to keep it as such. The contraption had been used by his ancestors for thousands of years, long before Princess Nymeria left Ny Sar with her ten thousand ships searching for a new home for her people. And if the stories were true, was the exact one used to torture none other than Queen Rhaenys to get King Aegon to stop in his conquest of Dorne.

Unbowed. Unbent. Unbroken.

Whilst many people considered Dorne to come under the crown, no true Dornishman believed such. They were conjoined through the double marriage of Daenerys Targaryen and Maron Martell alongside Daeron Targaryen and Myriah Martell. They never took on the faith of the Seven who are One, they never changed their views pertaining to expressing their feelings, and they didn't view bastards like they were the vilest creature to exist. Nay, the vilest creature in Oberyn's eyes was the one chained beside him. Bastards to the Dornish were seen as products of pleasure, pleasure being one of the most freeing things a man could experience. His cock hardening as he thought on the woman who was waiting for him in his chambers currently.

Lord Harmen had been furious when he found out his precious daughter was with babe, but when it was confirmed who had gotten the child on her, he had beamed in delight. House Uller were always leal to his own House and having what to them were royal bastards was a great honour. Four children they had, his eldest having different mothers from his many travels around the world when he had been bored, snickering as he recalled how quickly he had gotten the Septa to quiver below him. For someone so devoted to the Seven who are One and had sworn never to lay with someone, she certainly screamed in joy the loudest out of them all. But no, only one woman had his eye. Even if they shared their bed with whores and some of their guards often. Ellaria Sand was his and he was hers.