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( SALTSHORE, DORNE ) EARLY 300 AC
OBERYN AND GWENDYS WERE AS CIVIL AS COULD BE. The girls visited their father for little over a sennight every moon. Oh how they loved visiting their stepsisters, especially as Ellaria birthed a new one three years in a row. What were they called, again? Obella, Loreza, Dorea. How many did that make now? Eleven? The other daughters were older now, Obara reaching near thirty, and Sarella, twenty or so. That made them no less of precious gifts, though, and Oberyn loved them all the same.
That only put stock into Gwendys' sadness, as she hadn't seen them for years. She'd only seen Oberyn on occasion, through the fifteen years they'd endured apart. Despite their civilness, they only spoke via messengers, for the most part.
He really did love Ellaria, it seemed, having stayed by her side for thirteen more years than he had Gwendys. Yet, himself and Gwen would be forever be bound by name, and though Ellaria was his wife in everything but, she would never truly have him. Not like Gwendys had. That was her one single slither of solace.
In years to come, men and women would speculate over how Gwendys, from a minor house on the coast of Dorne, bagged herself a prince and friendship in the form of Lannisters, who were keen to keep her on their good side, birther of queens.
She was seven and thirty now, far too old to still be moping about in such a way. Ser Douglas was still around. Still as attentive towards her as ever, still quite in love, bar the fact that he was set on marrying a different woman (a lowborn servant named Nadia, the wet nurse to Elly, who piqued his interest just a little more than Gwendys did).
Her triplets had grown into three beautiful young women, just shy of fifteen, all so individual in their mother's eyes, even if it felt to others like they were seeing triple. All so sleek-eyed and sleek-tongued. Insisting on the nickname "Merry", Meria was quite adamant that she was going to marry Raj once she came of age. She had wanted nothing more than to be a Gargalen like her mother once was, which Gwendys herself speculated as strange, after all, she was the image of her father. A carbon copy. They all were. She thought that all little girls wanted to be princesses. Elly and Tremonda certainly enjoyed the treatment a fair bit.
They loved staying with the other girls, and would often come back blabbering the wildest things of what they'd done, recalling how Arianne had described in vivid detail, herself losing her maidenhead to Daemon Sand, the bastard of Godsgrace. Arianne was in charge of "feasts and frolics", now. That kept her out of the way.
As for her other lady, Shierle, Gwendys had never heard from her again. Her pretty self and her intended had fled to Essos across the Narrow Seas to bind their different faiths into marriage, but encountered choppy waves and tempestuous weather, and were never sighted again. They called it revenge from the heavens, for trying to defy the gods in their doings.
