The Viper and the Wolf

The Mountain vs the Viper

I stood a few paces away from Oberyn, making sure not to make eye contact with Ellaria Sand, despite the Dornishwoman's clearly placid expression. Tyrion Lannister strolled up, flanked by goldcloaks, his face twisting in disappointment when he set eyes on the goblet in Oberyn's hand.

"That's some light armor," he said. "You could at least wear a helmet."

"I like to move around." I felt his fingers squeeze mine from underneath my septa's cloak, and I shot him a coy glance from beneath my hood, hoping Ellaria hadn't noticed.

I stayed as stiff as an upright plank of wood as Oberyn rounded the table, taking another hearty sip of wine. Tyrion heaved a sigh.

"You shouldn't drink before a fight."

"You learn this from your days in the fighting pits," came the reply,as Ellaria lovingly trailed a hand down his chest.

The old me would've bristled at another woman laying hands on the man I loved, but I couldn't afford to start a skirmish that would most likely start with my hood being torn off my head.

"You'll get yourself killed," Tyrion said. "You'll get me killed."

"Today is not the day I die," Oberyn replied with as much brashness as you would expect from someone like him, and Ellaria smirked,shooting a smug glance at Tyrion, who regarded her with as much coolness as a chilled cucumber would have.

Ser Gregor Clegane strode to his tent, where an aide was polishing his greatsword. The gigantic knight's onyx black armor glinted in the sun, the heavy mail clanking.

"You're going to fight that?"Ellaria's voice didn't mask her horror in the least.

"I'm going to kill that."Oberyn looked up from the apple he was devouring.

"He's the biggest man I've ever seen!" she exclaimed, staring at the greatsword Ser Gregor's aide was polishing.

"Size does not matter when you are flat on your back," Oberyn said,wiping his fingers.

"Thank the Gods," Tyrion muttered.

"What troubles you, love?" Oberyn murmured, standing as close as possible to me, reaching underneath my cloak to twine his fingers with mine.

"Nothing,"I said, my voice thick.

Oberyn lifted my chin to stare at me. "I can see the jealousy in your eyes as plain as I can see Gregor Clegane's greatsword."

I twisted my face sharply out of his grasp, only for his hand to follow me and angle my head to stare at him again.

"Don't be jealous," Oberyn chided. "As I said before, we'll celebrate my victory later on tonight."

I threw my arms around his neck, enveloping him in the tightest embrace I had ever given anyone in King's Landing.

"I love you," I rasped, my voice crackling with tears. "Oberyn Martell."

Oberyn returned my embrace, shifting his weight from one foot to the other."Now, now," he said, his lips against my ear. "Don't start crying yet."

I whined and tightened my grip, burying my face in his shoulder,inhaling his scent of Dornish sand, wine, incense, blood, and expensive fabrics.

"I love you too, Sansa Stark," Oberyn hissed in my ear. "You're mine; you always have been mine."

The trumpets blew, and we instinctively broke apart. Oberyn gave me a pitying look before tilting my face to face him and using the pads of his thumbs to wipe the tears streaming down my cheeks. I stepped closer to him, standing on my toes, staring deep into his liquid brown eyes. Oberyn balked momentarily, then took my head in his hands and pressed my lips to his in what I didn't know would be the last time he would ever kiss me.