Chapter 15

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Chapter 15


They set sail not long after the sun began to rise almost two weeks ago; having pressed a kiss to Dany's cheek and a last tearful whisper; Oberyn and Rosaerys sailed back across the sea, this time ensuring to keep Rosie's identity tightly lipped. They had barely trusted the men they hired to man the small ship, ensuring that their loyalty was bought with gold and promises; something both Oberyn and Rosaerys detested. 


Rosie reached out to her beloved Unsullied, his strong and built body shivering as they hit each wave. They were getting sea sick, although they didn't enjoy showing it; Rosie couldn't help but care for each of them as though they were her own children. The poor Unsullied fell to the floor, grasping his stomach in whining moans, his eyes glimmering in tortured hues. She pressed the cold rag against his forehead, her hand cupping his cheek. "There, there." She whispered, his eyes closing slightly. "Go check up with the healer, and then go to bed; you'll feel better." 


It was the only thing she could recommend on a ship like this, thank the gods and R'hollor for Oberyn who insisted that they placed a healer on board. Smart idea, really. 


The Unsullied nodded before raising on shaky legs, stumbling to the cabin beside them. It was particularly cold today, the sea rougher than it had been the past few days, and if her Unsullied had struggled then, they were sure to struggle now. She rose herself, gripping onto the side of the boat. 


The waves, although rough in their tumbling, licked at the side of the boat in navy waves, storming from the thick clouds above. The sides lurched as the winds rattled through the tall white sails around them, pushing the boat closer to land. 


She had been so tired, from caring for the unsullied to being ill herself from worry and nerves, the strength of the wood was a comfort keeping her weight on her two feet.


It shouldn't take them long now until they dock in Dorne, a day maybe less depending on the weather. They could see it in the distance. They needed to stop in Dorne, to pick up supplies and to gather what was needed and such. She moved across the boat, her breeches making it easier to move than the constraints of a dress. Rosie looked out from the Bow of the boat, watching the darker waves settling into turquoise hues in the horizon. 



Soon the familiar Dornish land would change to the views of King's Landing, the nervousness bubbled in her stomach. Would it look the same as it did last time she had seen it? Rushing away on a small boat with her grandmother who was pregnant at the time and her uncle. The fear had never been so present in a face then it had been with those two, the haunting of their purple eyes still gets to her some days. 


Rosie remained anxious, the knots growing tighter and tighter in the pit of her stomach, at times scenes can be triggering; cause a past to be remembered when it should be forgotten. To relive the horrors of a wasted childhood. The thing she had promised to show Oberyn and Doran could happen sooner than she hoped. She had no control over the 'gift', it came and went as it pleased. 


Rosie wasn't ready to relive it, she needed more time, more energy, more space. She just felt drained these days, and she knew it wasn't going to alleviate any time soon. 

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