The Great War- Oberyn Martell

11. The Alchemy

Oberyn's heart was pounding, and that did not happen very often.

He jumped from the horse, almost stumbling at the sight of water. They had been galloping for an ungodly amount of time. Their horses were wet with sweat, as were their own faces, with liquids pouring down.

It was crazy. She was crazy. He was crazy. It all was crazy.

He turned his back for the thousandth time since they left the village, but obviously, there was no one there, and that made his heart calm down a little.

Oberyn got to the creek and started washing his face and hands, drinking the cold, fresh
water. He was so thirsty. It made him see and think more clearly. The images from that day appeared before his eyes, and since he still felt the effects of Old Sam's father's liquor, that was much needed.

It took him a second to gather his senses, but when he finally did, he stood up strong and sure on his feet.

In the next second, his sight turned to the woman behind him.

A lot of her hair had escaped her braid, and her face was swollen and red from galloping. She was standing a few steps away, but he saw the sweat dripping down her face. He wanted to wipe it off, but her sudden movement when she got off her horse made him come back to his senses.

She didn't look disturbed or scared or even moved in any way. The always-present cold steel was glimmering between her eyes.

"What was that?" He heard his own voice before he could think about what he was saying. It came out more aggressive than he had wished, but he didn't stutter.

"What was what?" Her voice was stable, as if she hadn't almost been kidnapped and run for her life a moment ago.

"All this?" Oberyn felt the irritation that always somehow appeared whenever he spoke with her. "How did you get yourself into so much trouble? I left you for a few minutes."

"We were in trouble from the moment we entered that village." Vaenera's voice became colder. "It was foolish of us to even think that they weren't informed."

Oberyn had to agree, but he wouldn't admit it. He was too proud. He would rather stick to his guns and not lose face.

"I thought it was clear that you should stay put in one place, not wander across the whole village."

Oberyn regretted saying those words immediately when they escaped his lips. Yet, it was too late to come back from the route he had chosen.

"Oh, so it is my fault, right? Because I came with those two women willingly and was too stupid to see the danger? Well, guess what? I knew there was something wrong with them, but what was I supposed to do? Drink with them? Like you?"

Oberyn wanted to return the attack, but he looked at her face.

There was something in it that he didn't see earlier. Some kind of melancholy, sadness even. No more cold steel. His stomach dropped suddenly, as if this look did something inside him.

"I came with them hoping you would come back sooner."

Oberyn almost forgot how to breathe after he heard her tired voice. Guilt struck him like lightning. She was right. He should have come back the minute he had the horses, not agreed to drink even a sip. The bitter feeling spilled through his tongue.

He wanted to tell her that, but when he opened his mouth, she suddenly moved.

"What is done is done," she said simply, waving her hand. "We are safe. That is all that matters."

"I only hope that they will not follow us. Or worse, tell Lannister men everything," Oberyn added.

"They won't." She started washing her hands in the creek. "They only wanted money, not to harm us. And money they got."