TW: graphic description of torture later on in the chapter, multiple mentions of rape, enslavement, exploitation of minors
"I want to negotiate."
Vaenera's voice rang out like thunder in Oberyn's head.
A shiver rushed down his spine upon hearing that well-known dark and deep tone that always carried a sense of threat, especially when Vaenera knew she was in no position of power.
He shook his head.
They had far more pressing matters to attend to than the allure of Vaenera's voice, no matter how appealing it was. He needed to save her from Arion as quickly as possible and then take care of the rest of this godsforsaken place.
With those thoughts in mind, Oberyn made a few soundless steps. That fool Arion, for all his intelligence and cunning, had forgotten to close the door, giving Oberyn an excellent opportunity not only to hear but also to see them.
And he didn't like what he saw.
Vaenera looked the same as when he left her, clad in that dragon-like dress with chains and ropes covering almost her entire body. The sight made his blood boil. He wanted to run up to her, beat Arion until he took his last breath, and rescue this impossible woman. Instead, he froze, breath slowing as he clung to the wall, afraid of being discovered. He became almost one with the icy plating.
"You want to negotiate? You are my prisoner, and you want to negotiate?"
Oberyn didn't want to make his presence obvious before the right moment, but he needed to lean slightly to catch a glimpse of his former friend. His head peeked around the corner.
"I am more than just your prisoner, and you know it."
Oberyn could only see Arion's back, but he was standing far too close to her for his liking.
"Oh yes, you are Vaenera Greyjoy—how could I forget? The eldest daughter of the King of the Iron Islands, the Iron Princess, the Mermaid from the Isles, the one who murdered our beloved King Joffrey, now worth her weight in gold."
"Everything you said is true." Oberyn saw Vaenera nod.
"And yet, here you are in my brothel, standing here in my chains, in a dress that belongs to me." He stepped closer to her. "Tell me, how do you want to negotiate?"
Oberyn's brow furrowed, madness beginning to overtake him. He silently thanked the gods Arion didn't take another step, or he wasn't sure he could control himself.
"I still have my mind and some senses. And they tell me I am worth nothing—not even a bag of gold. You want your precious gold, don't you? Well, let me tell you: you won't get it. Not from Cersei. Not ever."
Good, Oberyn thought. Play it safe, Princess.
"The gold in the coffers is long gone, and so is Petyr Baelish, the only one in King's Landing who could find it. Cersei wants me dead. She'll say whatever it takes to get others to care. Hand me over, and you'll get nothing for it. Only a knife in your throat."
Oberyn had seen Vaenera in action before, but it amazed him every time how cold-blooded she could be. He didn't know if it was a result of what had happened to Malena or everything she'd endured since, but he felt admiration for her resolve.
He was eleven years her senior, but blood still boiled in him, and the mask he had built over so many years still showed cracks.
"The thing is, I don't believe you," Arion said after a pause.
"You know who I am. And you know I know Cersei. I have no reason to lie to you."
"It's not that I think you're lying," he replied, moving a few steps closer, nearly making Oberyn leap out of hiding. "I know you're telling the truth about that. I'd be a fool to trust any promise from Cersei. It's not the gold I'm after. I am a man of considerable wealth."
YOU ARE READING
The Great War- Oberyn Martell
Fanfiction''This story unlike many others from this world begins not with inflaming fury, not with debt needed to be paid or not even with a winter that was coming. It begins with love that was sowed and had grown and it will end with fire and blood"
