The Great War- Oberyn Martell

12. Guilty as Sin? part 2

Oberyn Martell hadn't slept a wink.

His body was exhausted, worn down by the long journey and the ache of his still-healing wound. The bath he had taken earlier had done wonders to refresh his body, but it also awakened other urges he hadn't known existed.

His mind was another matter entirely.

It was one thing to know that Vaenera Greyjoy was an attractive woman. He wasn't blind. Even before they met, he had heard tales of the Iron Mermaid—a fierce, dark beauty with a mind as sharp as a sword. He knew she possessed not only a deadly intellect but also looks that could compel even the most disciplined of men.

But they were just pretending, playing their parts in a dangerous game of deception. He was her shield, as she was his—a partnership born out of necessity and shared goals. They were meant to be convincing, to act the part of lovers so well that no one would question their bond.

Then why was this deception sending his mind spiraling? Why was he thinking about things that would never come to his mind under normal circumstances?

When his hand had wrapped around Vaenera's waist earlier that evening, something had stirred in him—a feeling he hadn't experienced since his youth. It was as though he were a mere boy again, touching a woman for the first time. But this time was different. For a moment, that unexpected connection blurred the lines between what was real and what was just an act.

It was unthinkable. They had both been living in the wild for weeks; he was still nursing an injury, and they both smelled worse than a stable. She had been fully clothed, and yet, the simple act of holding her had awakened something primal within him.

Perhaps it was because he hadn't touched a woman since meeting her. In King's Landing, he had been too focused on his vendetta against the Mountain to seek out any pleasures. After their escape, there had been no opportunities, as their time was consumed by the struggle for survival.

But he couldn't deny the feelings he felt. They were as real and undeniable as the fierceness of Vaenera's character. It was the way she challenged him, the way her mind worked in tandem with his. She was different from any woman he had ever known—fierce, intelligent, and utterly unapologetic. She wasn't the type to be caged or controlled, and that only made him want her more.

He tried to tell himself it was only natural. She was the only woman around, and his body was merely reacting to the proximity of someone he found attractive. He was a man of many appetites, and only a fool wouldn't recognize the power Vaenera Greyjoy held.

He repeated this reasoning to himself as they ate supper together and later when they retired to their room. But even after Vaenera had fallen asleep, the feeling didn't simply go away. In fact, it only grew stronger. They were both clean now, the circumstances more favorable, and the sight of her lying so peacefully, with her hair spread across the pillow and her chest rising and falling with each breath, was too much for him to bear.

He cursed himself for his weakness and turned his back to her, trying to focus on anything else. But the image of her freckled face lingered in his mind, and he realized just how much he loved freckles.

It was more than he could take.

Unable to stay in the room any longer, he quietly slipped out, not caring if anyone thought it suspicious. He was a prince, after all, and lately, it seemed he had forgotten that he could do as he pleased. And right now, he needed to be around other people, to distract himself from the thoughts plaguing him.

A blonde girl would do nicely, he thought. Someone to help him forget the complications of his current situation.

It was just a phase.