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reginarubie · 2 years

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Worldbuilding of «Empress of the World», a guide, part I, Westeros

A short (not so much) guide to the world of Empress of the World my Jonsa fan fiction AU in which Valyria never fell, and Jaehaerys is its emperor and Sansa finds her way to him as his concubine at first and wife/empress later and together they face a new challenges as their relationship mashes together cultures so different from each other; their relationship is inspired by many real life historical couples:

Octavian Augustus and his wife Livia

Edward IV and Elizabeth Woodville

Henry VII and Elizabeth of York

Suleyman and Hürrem Sultan

Ahmed and Kösem Sultan

Now, without further ado, let's get into the world building.

THE WORLD OF «EMPRESS OF THE WORLD»

People around the world believe the world to be flat — though in Yi’Ti as well as in the Isles of the Jade Sea they believe the world to be round — the story we read is focused on the western and the eastern continent, though the most eastern of countries are often named and part of the plot they are not the focus of this story (until now).

WESTEROS

After a series of invasions — First Men, Andals and Rhoynar — the people of the lands of Sunset have found a fragile peace. The western continent is divided in seven kingdoms ruled by their own king, queen or prince/princess, with confines sometimes blurred and many differences in culture, faith and rules. The North is considered more savage and wilder than the other more refined kingdoms — the most refined of which, Dorne, is the only one who has actually a fruitful and enriching foreign policy — also less open to outsiders. The Wall still stands and beyond it lives the Free Folk whose raids have plagued the North for centuries.

DORNE — PRINCEDOM of THE DORNISH

The princedom of Dorne is considered the most refined of the seven kingdoms of Westeros. It’s ruled by House Martell of Sunspear and is most known for his foreign policies and the fact that has allied with the Valyrian empire, becoming of it the western detachment. The ruling prince is prince Doran Martell aided by his brother, prince Oberyn. Their sister, princess Elia was the legal consort of emperor Rhaegar Targaryen and she bore him two children — a male, the oldest and a female the youngest — though she lost her prince and later she died as well, leaving her daughter Rhaenys as the liaison between the princedom and the empire.

After a revolt led by the people, when it was rumored that the emperor had named his son by another woman — a concubine nonetheless — as heir before princess Rhaenys, prince Doran and his family was forced to flee in hiding. It was princess Rhaenys, at the time aged 14, that dragon back managed to reinstate her uncle as ruler of Sunspear and broker the pace between her father and her uncle.

They follow the Seven and a series of minor and major deities brought forth by the Rhoynar when they landed in Dorne — some of them still firm believers of the faith of Mother Rhoyne.

In the princedom of Dorne the rule of the primogeniture applies regardless of the gender of the firstborn, thus women and men are equated legally in the matters of succession, making so that a woman can inherit, rule and govern as well as ride into battle as much as any man.

The royal family of Dorne

Ruling Prince Doran Nymeros Martell, aged 45

Princess consort Mellario of Norvos, aged 36

Crown princess Arianne Nymeros Martell, aged 20

Prince Quentyn Nymeros Martell, aged 18

Prince Trystane Nymeros Martell, aged 9

Prince Oberyn Nymeros Martell, aged 33 and his daughters, the Sand Snakes (from oldest to youngest Obara, 22; Nymeria 20; Tyene,17; Sarella, 16; Elia, 14; Obella, 12; Dorea, 10; Loreza, 5)

[Yes I’ve changed the ages of some of them for plot reasons]

THE WESTERLANDS — KINGDOM of THE ROCK

Of the seven kingdoms of Westeros the Kingdom of the Rock is the wealthiest thanks to his golden caves and in the past centuries its rulers distinguished themselves for their skills in diplomacy but also their lack of clemency on the battlefield. The previous king, king Tywin Lannister is said to have maimed even one of their own by turning against House Rayne and gained the name of Demon of the Rock because of his ruthlessness. During our story the situation in the Westerlands is precarious due inner conflict in the royal family. The current king, Jaime Lannister — the Golden Lion of the Rock — in fact, despite having a wife and queen and having sired from her a son, the prince Galladan Lannister, has also let his sister declare her children his bastards creating an unique dynamic in the kingdom.

King Jaime has not distinguished himself for his worth on the battlefield as his reign has been mostly peaceful, but he is known to be the best swordsman of Westeros. He’s being called, behind his back, Jaime the Indecisive, due the lack of action after his sister basically bastardized her children and declared them his.

They follow the Seven.

Only the male can ascend to the throne, unless the female is left the only heir — at which point her children will inherit the crown, the king before his death or a council of lords will name a Lord Protector until a male is born of the line to inherit the throne. The rule of primogeniture applies where not differently specified, a king can associate one of his sons to the throne at which point the chosen one has the stronger claim even of older brothers.

The royal family of the Westerlands

king Jaime Lannister, aged 39

queen Brienne of Tarth, aged 21

crown prince Galladan Lannister, aged 13 (only true born son of the royal couple, officially named heir on his one and ten nameday)

princess Cersei Lannister, aged 39, the king’s mistress, mother of his bastards

Joffrey Hill, aged 15 (eldest son of Jaime Lannister and his sister-mistress Cersei Lannister, whom the mother would like to see on the throne, now sent to lord Kevan Lannister to squire)

Myrcella Hill, aged 13

Tommen Hill, aged 10

THE REACH — KINGDOM of THE FLOWERS

The Reach is the second wealthiest kingdom of the western continent, its richness though it’s not accounted in gold but in grain as it’s the primary granary of the continent. It’s mostly peaceful and the banner have not been called to war since a century. The ruling House, House Gardener of Highgarden is beloved by the small folk and the lords and ladies alike, though the aristocracy has long since started to veer toward the high stewards of the realm, the Tyrells, whose daughter is the princess consort.

They follow the Seven. The rule of primogeniture applies only to males, though females can inherit the throne if they marry into a male kin (uncle or cousin or nephew) that can be associated to the throne.

The royal family of the Reach

king Garth XII Gardener, aged 56

unnamed late queen (I am open to suggestions), dead (died at 31)

crown prince Mern Gardener, aged 27

princess consort Margaery of House Tyrell, aged 16

The high stewards of the Reach

lady Olenna Tyrell, the matriarch of Highgarden, aged 83

lord Mace Tyrell, aged 41

lady Alerie Tyrell, aged 43

lord Willas Tyrell, aged 26

ser Garlan Tyrell, aged 24

ser Loras Tyrell, aged 19

THE STORMLANDS — KINGOMD of THE STORM QUEEN

Known for its ruthless and combative, pugnacious rulers, the kingdom of the Stormlands has been interested, lately, by an inner civil war between the rightful heir to the throne, princess Branwen of Storm’s End and her cousin, Steffon. Princess Branwen rose to the throne after the death — childless — of her brother, Durran, and battled against her cousin to keep the crown on her head aided by her baseborn brother, Argilac, and king Eddard Stark.

The Stormlands are less rich than the other kingdoms, and are said to be almost as wild as the North, to the point the two kingdoms are considered as brothers; the Stormlanders in majority follow the Seven but some niches of believers of the Old religion, and the Old Gods still survive.

The rule of the strongest applies along the primogeniture regardless of the gender (as queen Branwen inherited from her late brother, who died childless, though she had to fight for her right to the throne).

The royal family of the Stormlands

Queen Branwen Durrandon, aged 36

crown prince Durran Durrandon, aged 20

prince Erich Durrandon, aged 16

general and chief advisor of the Queen, Argilac Storm, aged 44

THE KINGDOM OF THE VALE AND THE MOUNTAIN — KINGDOM of the EYRIE

Known for the nobility and honor of its knights the Kingdom of the Vale and the Mountain has mostly kept to itself in the last century though it often rode in battle at the side of the Storm kingdom in the previous centuries and has often warred against the kingdom of the Rivers and the Iron Islands.

The last king of the Vale, king Jon Arryn for example rode together with king Eddard and queen Branwen to fight the forces of Steffon the Usurper and in that occasion he lost his heirs, thus he married queen Catelyn maiden sister, Lysa Tully and sired from her a son, prince Robert but died shortly after the eighth nameday of his son and heir leaving the kingdom in the hands of his widow and the darling of the Vale, his trusted commander and friend.

They follow the Old Gods, though some less ancient Houses follow the Seven. The rule is that of male primogeniture. The custom of honor serves honor is ancient and still applied today, by which only the honorable can serve over honorables, and thus a king who has dishonored himself can be dethroned legally.

The royal family of the Vale and the Mountain

king Robert Arryn, aged 16

queen mother Lysa Tully, aged 39

royal advisors to the young king

Ser Denys Arryn, heir to the Vale and royal advisor, aged 29

Lord Yohn Royce, aged 56

Lady Anya Waynwood, aged 51

THE KINGDOM OF THE RIVERS AND THE IRON ISLANDS — KINGDOM of THE IRON KING

Arguably the biggest kingdom after the North, the kingdom of the Rivers and the Iron Island is known to be torn in civil war more often than not, as the Hoares had to sedate more than one rebellion in bloodshed; thus most of the ancient Houses (barred for House Tully a few others) have been erased from history, and new one named out of loyalty to the avenging king rise every few decades as others are completely wiped out.

Considering his father to having become weak willed his son and heir, Harren, staged a coup and murdered his father in his own bed, gaining the crown paying the iron price. He has then been named by the lords at the kingsmoot and has claimed for his bride his half sister, born of a salt wife taken from House Greyjoy,

His half sister has accepted to become his queen consort, but secretly is moving against him to become the first Iron Queen aided by the Maester of Harrenhal.

The Houses of the inland, follow the Faith of the Seven, instead the iron born from the Iron Islands follow the Drowned God. There is a great social disparity between men and women to the point that boys born illegitimate are called Iron, whilst the girls are called Salt, and whilst there has never been a female ruler in her own right, more than once a royal mother has worked as regent for her infant son.

The royal family of the Kingdom of the Rivers and Iron Island

newly named king Harren the Black, aged 32

his sister-queen Rysella Salt, aged 19

THE NORTH — WINTER KINGDOM

Alone the North is as big as the rest of the kingdoms put together, its the first branch of defense against the wildlings and winter and it’s mostly northerners, valemen and stormlanders who man the Wall and its keeps.

They have strong bonds and liaisons with the Stormlands and the Vale, but due the marriage between king Eddard Stark and queen Catelyn Tully they now have bonds to the kingdom of the Rivers and the Iron Islands.

They are made mostly of First Men Houses and they follow the Old religion and the Old Gods, save for the Manderlys who follow the Seven.

Whilst there were instances of the royal line continuing by female line — queen Sansa of Winterfell — who married her uncle — king Jonell — to legitimize his right to the crown after the banner men named him king. Similarly to the Iron Islands and Riverlands — where the new king must be approved by the kingsmoot — in the North at the death of a king his heirs come to the Winter Gathering and the bannermen name one of them new King in the North, in the last generations it has been mostly a ritual formality, but in ancient times a younger sibling has been named in place of the oldest. Or a woman in place of a man, though during the same Gathering the lords would choose for her a royal consort if she wasn't already married.

Most notably, they follow the Old Way: the man who passes the sentence must also swing the sword. At the moment the North has knelt to Ramsay Bolton, though he is king only in name and has not been formally named yet by the lords and ladies of the Gathering. His claim even as Roose' son and thus king through conquest — regicide — is dubious at best, since he is suspected of being a kinslayer and since in the East (not that the lords of Westeros know of it) his true born brother, Domeric Bolton is still alive and sworn to Queen Sansa of Winterfell.

Part II —› Empire of Valyria of Old, part I: history and legend

Part III —> Empire of Valyria of Old, part II: society, faith, law and customs

#empress of the world #world building part I #westeros world building #jonsa fanfiction

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ficsilike-reblogged · 3 years

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Blood in the Rivers: X

A/N: okay! we have reached the end, my loves. I’m so sorry for taking so long, but I truly appreciate your patience. This is v v self-indulgent but hey! happy endings are important to me.

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand x F!Reader (Tully)

Rating: NC-17 for penetrative sex, oral sex (f-receiving), everyone has a breeding kink, mention of child birth, pregnancy, ...babies

Word Count: 13.7k ( ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Read Chapters I-IX here! or on Ao3!

Chapter Ten: Adventure Awaits

Y/N had always suspected that she would feel nervous on her wedding day. Either from dread or giddiness, she could never be sure—but she still expected some trepidation. But there was nothing except a gentle eagerness blooming in her heart as Daisy finished helping her ready for the ceremony. Her dress was a soft white silk and gossamer frock with little embellishment. But it swayed with each of her movements like the sea and made her feel beautiful.

“You look every bit a princess,” Daisy said, tears in her eyes, as she finished fastening Y/N’s maiden’s cloak to her shoulders. “I cannot believe we have finally reached this day.”

“It did take a few battles, did it not?” Y/N mused, happiness coloring her tone. “And you shall have your own happy day next moon. Finally. Daemon is the most patient of men.”

Daisy laughed. “We have found ourselves some bit of happiness here in Dorne. Have we not, my lady?”

Y/N could barely keep the smile from hurting her face as she heard the soft music coming from inside the sept. Two servants were smiling broadly at her, waiting to pull open the doors. With one last adjustment to the maiden cloak on her shoulders, Y/N nodded and they opened the great doors with a flourish.

The Sept was filled with Martells and the Sand Snakes and the Ullers, and a handful of other lords and ladies, all of them smiling, all of them happy. Y/N stepped forward, one foot in front of the other, and had to bite back a giddy laugh when she spotted Oberyn at the end of the aisle. He was dressed in his finery; cream-colored silk and brocade with silver and gold thread, emblazoned with spear-pierced suns that glittered in the candlelight. A wash of yellow and red fabric was carefully placed over his arm. Ellaria was standing closest to him, even closer than the Septon, dressed in a daffodil dress with golden chains draped over her shoulders and chest. They were beautiful.

Y/N continued forward and spotted Loreza frantically waving as she held onto Gryves’ collar, his tail wagging furiously and rucking up the hem of Loreza’s pretty dress. But Y/N waved back, earning a happy bark from Gryves.

Ellaria stepped forward before Y/N reached the end and wrapped an arm around Y/N’s, leading her the last few feet to Oberyn’s side before gently taking Y/N’s hand and placing it in Oberyn’s outstretched palm. She pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek before letting Oberyn turn them toward the Septon.

“You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection,” the Septon said with a soft smile.

Oberyn’s warm hands slipped up Y/N’s arms to undo the fastenings of her maiden’s cloak and handed it over to a smiling Trystane as he finished before he unfurled the cloak in his arms and he cloaked her in his family’s colors, two golden suns now sitting on her shoulders. He smiled at her and Y/N once again had to will herself into quietude, wanting to shout her joy for all to hear.

“My lords, my ladies,” the septon started, “we stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”

Oberyn grasped her right hand and kissed her fingers before holding their joined hands out to the septon to tie a red silk ribbon around their wrists.

“Let it be known that Y/N of House Tully, and Prince Oberyn of House Nymeros Martell are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.” The septon thrust out his hands. “In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity.” He then carefully undid the simple knot he had tied with a smile and told them to face each other and Oberyn greedily grasped her other hand in his and squeezed her fingers affectionately. “Repeat these words; Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger...”

Y/N and Oberyn did, saying the words almost a bit too quickly if the Septon’s quiet tutting was any indication.

But they could not be stopped. Oberyn pushed forward, “I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.”

“I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days,” Y/N said her part and felt her heart flutter like humming bird’s wings within the confines of her ribs.

Pleased, the septon nodded.

That was all the permission Oberyn needed before he grasped at Y/N’s face. Softly, and just for her to hear, he whispered, “with this kiss, I pledge my love.”

And then he kissed her, smiling against her mouth as the crowd clapped and cheered. He gently grasped her hand in his again as they walked out of the sept and into the sunlight.

The feast was held in Sunspear’s great hall, and it was filled with raucous conversation, beautiful music, and her favorite company. Oberyn had convinced Doran to let the rest of the servants partake in the festivities so the hall was alive with some beautiful revelry.

Gifts were stacked high on the back wall and Y/N was sure they were all lovely but all she could do was revel in how Oberyn was quick to move her around the floor with all the grace of prowling panther and he nearly devoured her with hungry kisses that left her gasping and uncaring of the audience. “My wife, my moonlight.”

“My husband,” Y/N replied, smile wide. But then her gaze was caught by Ellaria’s approaching form and they both held out a hand for her.

Ellaria matched their smile and readily put her hands in theirs, letting herself be pulled close and the three of them swayed to the music—together. As it should be, as it always should have been. The next song came and went before Loreza and Dorea were begging their father for a dance which he quickly obliged after excusing himself from Y/N and Ellaria’s side with a kiss to each of their mouths. Y/N and Ellaria continued to dance and Y/N reveled in Ellaria’s soft hands as they held her close.

“You are finally ours, my love,” Ellaria whispered in her ear.

“I have always been yours,” Y/N responded, breathing in Ellaria’s expensive citrus and floral perfume in a heady breath.

Ellaria hummed and pulled her a little closer as the song started to reach its crescendo. “Yes, you have. But now the whole of the Seven Kingdoms will know.”

Y/N laughed and pressed her lips to hers, to absolutely no one’s surprise.

She could finally be free here—to love who she loved, to be who she was always meant to be.

The gifts had been opened and carefully put away by a tittering Daisy who then all but skipped out of the room just in time for Oberyn and Ellaria to drag Y/N into the softly lit room, candles casting deep shadows on the walls.

Cheers and music were still filtering into the room.

The three had foregone the calls for a traditional bedding—being carried away by a group of men and stripped of her clothing was not something she wanted and everyone knew better than to ever touch Oberyn’s wife or paramour. The fact that Y/N now had a bloody reputation might have stayed their hand, too.

But none of that mattered now. Ellaria was pressing kisses to her neck and tugging at the lacings of her soft dress as Oberyn was bodily dragging them both toward the bed. And just as he heaved them onto the silken blankets—there was a knock at the door.

“Papa!” Came the little voice on the other side.

Oberyn pulled back, lips leaving from their place just above Y/N’s chest, to look at the door.

And the knock came again. “Papa!” It was Loreza, sniffling and huffing with tears—Y/N could hear them through the door.

Oberyn sighed and righted his tunic before winking. “I shall be back soon, my loves.” He then quickly left, the sound of Oberyn’s calming voice trailing and fading as they walked down the hall.

“Nightmares again?” Y/N asked, pushing herself further into the pillows as Ellaria shifted on the bed to swing a leg over Y/N’s hips and settle over her stomach.

Ellaria nodded and then bent to press a kiss against Y/N’s lips, letting her tongue curl around hers and taste the tart Dornish wine they had all imbibed throughout the feast—probably to excess. “But you will soon have to chase away nightmares, too.” Her warm hands started to grab at the loosened bodice of Y/N’s dress and dragged it down her arms, exposing her breasts to the cooled night air.

“Oh?” Y/N asked, hazing mind trying to keep up with Ellaria’s words and her hands.

Ellaria nodded against her mouth, slipping her hand beneath the bundled fabric of Y/N’s wedding dress to trail her fingers against her stomach as the younger woman heaved with each breath. “Oh yes. Oberyn and I are going to make sure you are round with child. Another babe to fill these halls with love and laughter.”

Y/N gasped, body heating for more than just one reason. Oh, she wanted. She wanted. She wanted.

Ellaria somehow shucked Y/N’s gown past her hips and onto the stone floor as she kissed her again and had slipped her beautifully devious fingers into Y/N’s lacy smallclothes, finding her clit with a happy laugh as Y/N all but choked against her lips.

Y/N fumbled with Ellaria’s dress, trying to push and pull it—she just needed it off. She needed to feel Ellaria’s warm skin under her hands. But Ellaria was, as always, a force to be reckoned with. She pushed Y/N down onto the bed after taking pity on the poor woman and sitting straight just long enough to rid herself of her pretty gown. And Y/N warred with herself, happy to have Ellaria bare in front of her but longing for Ellaria’s fingers to once again touch her.

“All ours for the night—and every night after that,” Ellaria hummed as leaned down against to press an open-mouthed kiss against Y/N’s shining lips.

Y/N let her greedy hands slide across Ellaria’s warm skin to grab handfuls of her beautiful breasts, plucking at her hardened peaks in the way Ellaria liked and smiling when Ellaria whined. “Just as you are mine.”

Ellaria hummed, pausing to gently cradle Y/N’s face with a soft, hungry look in her dark eyes that had Y/N’s heart fluttering even more. “Tonight is about you, my love. It may not be always pleasant but we will try our best to bring you pleasure.”

Y/N could only nod—but she whined when Ellaria slipped off to the side and reclined beside Y/N, inching her fingers down Y/N’s heaving chest and swirling her fingertips around one nipple and then the next before tapping at the pile of pillows a little further up the bed.

“Come, my love.”

Y/N scurried to do as she was bid and pressed herself into the pillows. She held out her hands for Ellaria to take but was only rewarded with Ellaria shaking her head with a smile and a lick to her lips as she pushed herself up onto one arm to lean over Y/N, boxing her in. Ellaria’s perfect lips dragged down her neck to her bare shoulder and the simple touch had Y/N gasping, wine continuing to fog her mind in a wonderful haze.

“We have to get you ready. Get you wet enough that your body will take him deep.” Deft fingers plucked at the small bows at the sides of Y/N’s underclothes and Ellaria slowly pulled them away, making Y/N jump and shiver as the lace slid over her skin before Ellaria tossed them over her shoulder to join the growing pile of clothes on the stone floor. “You’re so pretty, so good. My good girl.”

Y/N couldn’t stop herself then, tangling her fingers in Ellaria’s glorious hair and dragging her lips to hers and licking into her mouth, tasting more Dornish wine. But Y/N suddenly keened when Ellaria’s fingers found her slit again—circling, circling, circling and drawing a whine from the new bride.

And it was so easy for Ellaria to coax Y/N to a breathless orgasm, her fingers tugging at Ellaria’s wrist as her hand continued to move, fingers continuing to plunder despite the slick soaking up to her wrist.

“Good girl,” Ellaria purred.

The coil that had just snapped continued to tighten again, now with a delicious bite. Ellaria’s movements were steady and continuous, again and again finding that place inside Y/N that had her gasping and whining—for more, for less—for everything. And just as she was sure the coil was going to bite and snap…Ellaria stopped. Y/N watched her head tilt toward the door.

Oberyn was standing there, arms crossed over his broad chest and a wide smile on his face. “A wonderful sight to greet me, to be sure.”

Ellaria turned just enough to lean on her elbow beside Y/N with a laugh of her own. “I am surprised you stopped to admire the view, my love.” She crooked a shining finger at Oberyn. “Come.” And then, Ellaria’s fingers slipped down Y/N’s stomach and cupped her mound for just a moment before using just two to spread Y/N’s lips to the cooled night air and Oberyn’s hungry gaze. “Isn’t she just so pretty, my love? Look how wet she is for us.” And then Ellaria pressed inside and curled her fingers, letting Y/N’s slick coat her skin as she twisted her wrist just so and had the younger woman writhing beside her again. But Ellaria quickly withdrew and held out her glistening fingers to Oberyn who greedily pulled them between his smiling lips to lick them clean, moaning at her taste.

Y/N watched it all in a daze, wanting more of that pleasure—more of what only Oberyn and Ellaria could give her even if there was just a slight sting to it, her body still overstimulated. “Oh please,” she whined, hips lifting from the bed as she watched Oberyn’s wicked tongue drag across his bottom lip in search of just a bit more of her taste.

“She is magnificent, as always. Even more so when I have you with us: my pair of perfect loves.”

Y/N’s entire body warmed at the words. Her and Ellaria. Ellaria and Oberyn. This is how it was supposed to be—all of them together. But her thoughts quickly faded into syrup as Ellaria’s dexterous fingers once again curled inside and had her struggling against the arm Ellaria had suddenly slung across her stomach. And Y/N could feel Ellaria’s smirk as she pressed her mouth against the side of Y/N’s sweat-slick throat. “You’re almost there, my love. Almost ready to finally take your prince.” The wet sound of Ellaria’s fingers quickly grew louder and louder as Y/N felt the pleasurable coil start to tighten and tighten and tighten until Ellaria used her other hand to pet at her clit, fingers brushing against it over and over again until the coil snapped and Y/N wailed.

She barely heard Ellaria’s praises and coos as she came back to herself, shaking in the other woman’s soft grip.

“You’re doing so well, my love. So well. I will never tire of seeing you take your pleasure from me. You sing so sweetly.” Ellaria’s lips caught hers in a brief kiss, tongue curling around hers before she sat straight. “Are you ready?” She asked.

Y/N nodded before her next breath pushed out of her lungs. She wanted this. She wanted all of it.

Oberyn was quickly to divest himself of his robes and breeches as Ellaria continued to trail her fingers up and down, up and down across Y/N’s stomach. Y/N felt her heart catch in her throat again, watching as Oberyn’s heavy cock was revealed. She had seen it before, of course, but just as she still grew excited at the sight of Ellaria’s perfect breasts, he was something to wonder at, too.

Oberyn slid onto the bed, long and strong legs bracketing Y/N’s knees as he smiled and leaned down just enough to kiss her, stealing her breath as his tongue plundered into her mouth.

His fingers briefly touched her folds, spreading her own wetness around and she watched as Oberyn’s smile widened and pride bloomed in her already warmed chest at the look in his honey-colored eyes. He shuffled closer, hands dragging up her thighs and pressing his thumbs into her hips to tease a squeal from her lips before he stole another kiss.

Ellaria’s fingers once again spread her wide, pushing her apart to reveal all of her, and Oberyn took his cock and let it drag against her folds and Y/N let out a choked moan, feeling him nearly catch once and then twice.

This was it. This was what she needed, the want burning in her bones like wildfire. “O-Oberyn, please…”

“She begs so prettily, my love,” Ellaria mused, nipping at Y/N’s ear. “End her torment.”

“Eager thing,” Oberyn chuckled, dark eyes burning into hers before dragging back down to her pussy and his ministrations finally stopped as the head of his cock, now shining with her, stilled, bracketed by Ellaria’s fingers. “Ready, my moonlight?”

Y/N could only nod as Ellaria’s fingers, slick and warm, curled to circle her clit, sending pleasurable jolts up and down her spine. And then Oberyn was pushing, parting her velvety walls slowly and with a determined sort of care that had her eyes watering and a smile pressing at her gasping mouth despite the small pinch and burn of the stretch that grew the deeper he sank inside. They loved her. They loved her so much and it was all so overwhelming with how much they cared about her and her pleasure. Ellaria’s fingers on her clit were steady and unwavering as Oberyn gave small thrusts, sinking a little deeper each time, making Y/N’s walls flutter around his cock.

Y/N closed her eyes as she felt the coil grow tighter and tighter, finally feeling her body clench around something thicker than her lovers’ fingers and a broken moan ripped its way out of her throat.

She felt so full and beautiful and loved and she only opened her eyes when she felt Oberyn’s lips brush against her panting mouth. His eyes were sparkling despite his labored breathing and his warm hand slid across her stomach as he gave a final thrust and was finally, finally, finally fully seated inside.

“Do you feel me, my moonlight? Right here?”

Her hand pressed over his as she felt, rather than heard, Ellaria’s laugh as her quickly unraveling mind made her tongue lead in her mouth. “I do. I feel all of you.”

Oberyn smiled and stole another kiss. “And you are well?”

And with a final curl of Ellaria’s fingers, the coil snapped and Y/N came, thighs shaking as a heady moan slipped through her spit-slick lips. She barely heard Oberyn’s answering groan as he felt her clamp down and her walls trembled.

“You are going to unmake me,” Oberyn huffed as her mind started to clear.

Her body continued to shake as he started to pull back, letting her feel each ridge and vein before slowly sliding back in. Her breath punched out of her each time he pushed deep and it always left her gasping, lungs burning.

“Her cunt feels like heaven, doesn’t it, my love?” Ellaria asked before sucking her shining fingers between her lips.

“It does,” Oberyn said with another slow drag in and out. “But I will not spend myself until she cums again.”

“I-I can’t,” Y/N said, her hand curling around Ellaria’s beautiful thigh.

“You will,” Ellaria said, tone commanding. “With your prince’s cock in your cunt, you will cum.”

But then her hands grasped at Y/N’s breasts and squeezed, rolling her hardened peaks between her fingers with an effortless ruthlessness that had Y/N arching her back, trying to give more to Ellaria to hold and grab. “I-I-” The words halted in her throat as she felt his lips find hers again, warm breath sliding against her face.

Everything was just Oberyn and Ellaria—and everything was beautiful.

Shaking hands reached up to grasp at his shoulders, trying clumsily to drag him closer—she needed him closer for some reason she couldn’t explain.

Oberyn and Ellaria showered her in praises as his thrusts continued to grow stronger; Y/N was their good girl, their love, their Moonlight, and she was taking him so well. And all of the lovely words were effecting her just as much as the delicious movement of Oberyn as he continued his deep and slow drag.

And that familiar coil started to pull tight again, slower than the previous two but much, much more intense—something she could feel in her marrow.

“O-Oh, please,” she begged, hands still scrambling for purchase against his slick back, against Ellaria’s wrists as her hand continued to move between her legs, darting from one to the other as her hips start to buck and press against Oberyn’s pistoning hips.

And Oberyn let out a guttural moan at that, feeling how he would sink deeper each time she would meet his thrusts. Ellaria leaned over to lick into his open mouth and coach another moan from his throat. His hands grasped at her hips as his paced quickened, the drag and thrust lighting each of her nerves aflame as she continued to hurdle towards another orgasm.

As the coil grew tighter, Y/N kept lifting and moving her hips, trying to match Oberyn’s movements, wanting to hear that sound again and knowing it was her who made him. And she was rewarded with his beautiful noises again and again and felt his grip tighten on her hips even as he never went too hard or too quick; still endlessly careful with her.

“Touch her again,” Oberyn said, looking at Ellaria. “Help get her there.”

Ellaria huffed a laugh at that but finally released her hold on Y/N’s chest to slide her fingers back down to simply press against Y/N’s hardened clit and making the other woman keen and wail. Y/N’s vision went white and all she could feel was a sharp pleasure spreading through her body. She collapsed, boneless, beside Ellaria who cooed her approval in sweet tones as she brushed a kiss against her temple.

Oberyn thrust twice more before sinking completely and let out guttural moan and Y/N felt warmth pool inside and she shivered, letting herself finally just feel—and come down from the high her loves had constantly maintained.

She winced, only slightly, as Oberyn slowly pulled out. He leaned down to kiss her lips, each of her breasts, and then her stomach before he stood, sliding off the side of the rumpled bed. Y/N watched him walk over to the small table and dunk a bit of cloth into the waiting bowl of water.

But Ellaria was soon sitting up with a click up her tongue. “Don’t waste it,” she said, fingers sliding through Y/N’s folds once more to gather Oberyn’s cum and press it back into Y/N’s pussy. “It belongs inside.”

Y/N could only nod at Ellaria’s command and did not have the energy to jump when Oberyn took a dampened cloth to gently clean between her thighs, pressing a kiss to each of her legs as he did so. “You were perfect, my moonlight. I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you and Ellaria in my bed.”

Ellaria whispered her agreement against Y/N’s sweat-slicked temple before pressing a gentle kiss there, too, and Y/N could only smile in return—still boneless. But her mind turned as she looked at her husband and paramour.

“I know that you both cannot be sated by simply one.” Y/N crooked a finger at Oberyn as he stood straight. “While I am indisposed for the moment, please do not stifle your urges. Our love,” she said, reaching out to Ellaria, “has been too much of a giver with me, I am ashamed to admit,” Y/N said, still trying to catch her breath as she smiled.

Ellaria chuckled. “I think our Princess wants a show.”

Y/N watched Ellaria push herself to her knees and tug Oberyn into a kiss and the pair fell back onto the mussed blankets and pillows with a laugh.

Oh yes, Y/N thought as she watched them—slow hands and unhurried kisses of familiar lovers, there would be time when they could all three truly find pleasure together, but this was heaven for now.

“Raise your elbow—just a little higher,” Y/N said, standing behind Dorea at the training grounds.

Dorea huffed and but did as she was told. “Better?”

“Yes—now loose.”

The arrow flew through the air and managed to hit the target—a little more than off center.

“You grow better every day, Dorea,” Y/N said as she clapped the young girl on the shoulder. “Soon you may best me!”

Dorea squealed happily, the bow sliding from her grip before she turned and launched herself at Y/N, wrapping her surprisingly strong little arms around Y/N’s stomach in a tight squeeze. But soon the girl’s Septa appeared, the familiar look of resigned disappointment on her aged features for once again finding Dorea at the training grounds instead of at her lessons. Y/N quietly nudged her back toward the Septa as she fought a smile. She would not tell the disappointed woman that Loreza was currently running around with Gryves—they were still fond of splashing into the Sunset Sea despite the water growing colder with each passing day.

Winter had been slow to reach Dorne. The heat remained throughout the day but the nights grew colder and colder. While Ellaria and Oberyn had taken to wrapping themselves in furs from the time the sun set and until it rose again, Y/N was content with just her blankets and Gryves would occasionally manage to wriggle his massive body between her and Oberyn during the night to keep her warm. Oberyn would always grumble in the morning—mentioning how the blankets were full of Gryves’ black fur or complaining about how Gryves would always manage to kick in his sleep and push his enormous paws into Oberyn’s stomach or back. Ellaria was always happy to find the large dog in the bed, ignoring Oberyn’s mutterings to scratch behind Gryves’ ears.

Doran and Trystane had taken to the large dog, too. The two princes found Oberyn’s inability to truly befriend Gryves’ amusing and would “sneak” bits of food to him whenever they visited and Gryves had managed to hold Y/N and Ellaria’s attention for longer than a few heartbeats when Oberyn was telling a story of his adventures.

Y/N found the strange power plays between her husband and faithful dog endlessly entertaining.

It was all so…idyllic.

Ravens came and went from Dorne, even with Winter raging in the other six kingdoms. Sansa was seeing to the final stages of reconstruction to her ancestral home and was proving herself to be a very capable and shrewd Lady Stark according to the whispers that made their way down to Dorne.

Doran always smiled when he heard them and Y/N knew there was a constant stream of ravens between the Water Gardens and Winterfell, the two keeping in contact like a doting father and favored daughter.

A short letter came a few moons after her wedding in Arya’s tilted handwriting. Found Gendry. Going West.

“There you are, my moonlight!”

She turned to see Oberyn bounding across the training grounds, still only dressed in his linen sleeping trousers and an open robe, rumpled from being hastily discarded the night before. The small group of guards also using the grounds glanced at Y/N with barely contained humor before they turned back to their swords and shields.

It had only been a handful of months since the wedding and it seemed like everything and everyone had settled into a new sort of peace the Seven Kingdoms had not seen in centuries. Everything had been worth it.

She would gladly do it all again if it meant she had this.

Oberyn swept her into his arms and lazily pressed his mouth to hers as she laughed. “It is too cold and too early to have you slip away from our bed.” He dragged his lips down her throat to nip at her skin. “I thought I had thoroughly exhausted you last night—Ellaria still slumbers.”

Y/N chuckled and let him pull her a little closer before all but starting to drag her back into the fortress. In truth, she had been thoroughly exhausted last night—and many nights before that, too. The three had finally found the perfect way to touch and fuck and kiss without one needing to sidle themselves with simply watching (although, Y/N was always happy to do that).

But the mornings always came too soon and for the past fortnight, she would wake just after dawn feel strange. Not ill. But unpleasantly warm and almost itchy within her skin. The only remedy she could find was a light breakfast and fresh air. She would walk with Gryves along the shore and happily let him splash and soak her skirts, or she would take him through the orange groves and let him chase the last few birds that had not yet left. He was a good and faithful hound. No matter how free she—or Dorea or Loreza—let him roam, he would always turn back every few paces to make sure they were still there. His cold nose would greet her every morning. Gryves was either snuggled up into her side or sneaking out of Loreza’s room when the sun rose each morning. Oberyn once grumbled that the dog seemed to always find a way to separate him and Y/N or him and Ellaria during the night with his giant, furry body and Oberyn would, more often than not, find himself with a mouth full of black fur or a giant paw pushing into his stomach.

But Gryves had been acting strange. For the last handful of mornings, he did not barge ahead during their quiet walks but rather stuck to her side, his large head swiveling from side to side as if he were searching for something, guarding her.

Y/N brushed it off as the pup still finding his footing in Winter. Some blossomed, others wilted. She knew he would blossom—first winters were always a bit tenuous.

This was not the first Winter the Seven Kingdoms had weathered and it would not be the last. But it could be prosperous. Far more prosperous than the handful of years prior that had only seen war and death.

Young Shireen Baratheon—the last Baratheon—had stabilized the Stormlands and held her family’s seat of Storm’s End with a firm grasp but was still beloved by the smallfolk of her kingdom. Robb had been glad to grant clemency to Shireen and name her heir of Storm’s End after she appeared before the Iron Throne with Ser Davos Seaworth at her back to swear fealty.

The little lady who had survived Greyscale, the War of the Five Kings, and then fleeing into the wilderness of the North, had risen to become one of the most beloved and adored women of the Realm.

And even more missives came from the capital. Robb had asked for Sarella to take the Dornish Seat on the Small Council, and asked Olenna to be the Master of Coin. The Realm was finding its footing under King Robb and Queen Margaery’s careful guidance.

The Lords of the Vale had sworn fealty to Robb after the Battle of King’s Landing and there might have been a raven or two arriving at the Red Keep before the envoy from the Vale arrived. The Vale, as Y/N remembered, still knew how to play the Game. Robb had quickly lopped Petyr Baelish’s head from his shoulders when he arrived at the Red Keep to offer his ‘services’ to the new King.

Baelish’s betrayal of Eddard Stark had been, Y/N discovered, what Tyrion offered to Robb in exchange for his life. Tyrion learned of Baelish’s schemes and told Robb that his family still had an enemy high in the Mountains of the Vale.

The Lords of the Vale had also been quick to tell the new king that Baelish was suspect of Lysa’s ‘unnatural’ death and Sweetrobin was now under the guidance of Royce, the regent Petyr had begrudgingly named before setting off toward King’s Landing. It was all very quick and messy and continued to solidify Robb’s reputation as a benevolent king with a savage streak.

Y/N couldn’t be more proud of her cousin.

But sometimes he still had the uncanny ability to still bother her like a brother.

Robb had sent a raven only yesterday to ask if Oberyn, Ellaria, and Y/N would be his envoy to Essos, to treat with the Dragon Queen to solidify trade routes and the like. It would be a large undertaking and immensely important as Robb wanted to be sure his new subjects were fed during the Winter that could potentially last years and to send a Dornish envoy was a sign of respect and gratitude—at in least Doran’s eyes who told Oberyn to accept the summons.

Oberyn said he would sleep on it but Y/N knew he wanted to ask Ellaria her opinion before making a decision. Y/N had already told him it was his choice. She had made enough decisions that had impacted their family.

Gryves nosed at her hip and she only then noticed that she had slowed to a stop with her toes just within the cold reach of the Summer Sea’s seafoam, soaking the edges of her dressing gown. The large dog whined.

“I’m okay,” Y/N said, scratching him behind his ears but he whined again and then gently bit at her dressing gown, tugging her back toward the fortress. Y/N scowled as she felt her stomach clench but tried to press a smile to her face as she walked by the small group of guards she, admittedly, didn’t remember passing earlier. Gryves also greeted them with a happy yip and received a few scritches behind his ears before quickly moving back to Y/N’s side as they moved closer to the fortress’ familiar shadows.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

She had only a moment to brace before Loreza’s tiny yet surprisingly solid body ran straight at her legs, wrapping her arms around her hips with a giggle. “You are up early, little one,” Y/N said, letting her hands curl around the girl’s shoulders as Gryves happily sniffed at the girl’s shoes in greeting.

“Papa said we’re going on an adventure!” She exclaimed as she jumped back, hopping in place in excitement.

“An adventure?” Y/N repeated with a smile, knowing exactly what Loreza was announcing—he made his decision, apparently. Oberyn had decided to take Robb’s assignment—and take along his daughters, too. Not that his decision was a surprise in any regard. There was no way he would leave his daughters behind again.

“Across the Narrow Sea!” As Loreza continued to excitedly explain all the details of the ‘adventure,’ Y/N caught sight of Oberyn leaning against one of the marble pillars, smiling as his youngest looked up at her, nearly vibrating with joy. “Obella says the Dragon Queen is pretty—but she lets her dragons eat people!”

Y/N bit her tongue for a moment before making a mental note to speak with Obella and maybe let her know that exaggerating the truth with Loreza might be entertaining, it was not a pastime to be encouraged when the little one had a wild imagination and was prone to nightmares already. “Her dragons are fond of goats, Loreza, and I know she keeps them well-fed. Obella is simply teasing you,” Y/N said, repeating the information she had managed to gather from a certain little lion who had managed to build a new life in Essos. Tyrion, it seemed, still had a soft spot for Y/N—and maybe learning that Jaime was alive, and at his side, because Y/N and Arya had King Robb’s ear might have given him a little more incentive to help her.

Loreza’s bottom lip jutted out, as if a little upset that she was no longer in danger of being eaten, but then giggled as Gryves licked at her fingers, quietly demanding to be pet. “Do you think I’ll be able to see one?”

“I am sure we will be able to see one if Her Grace wants to meet with us, little one,” Y/N said.

Loreza nodded, already too engrossed in Gryves’ affections to truly listen to Y/N’s words. “I should like to see a dragon, you know.”

Y/N was not sure if Loreza’s words were meant for her or Gryves but she hummed in acknowledgement and then settled into Oberyn’s warm embrace as his arms wrapped around her waist from the back and Loreza finally noticed her father and giggled up at him, still happily letting Gryves take most of her attention and affections.

“You’re up early,” Y/N hummed, turning her head just enough to press a kiss to his sharp jaw.

“Not as early as you, my moonlight,” he murmured, squeezing her around the middle. “And it seems my daughter has beat me to my grand reveal.”

“Sorry, papa,” Loreza said, still focused on Gryves, not sorry at all.

Oberyn hummed and kissed Y/N’s neck. “What say you, wife? One more adventure?”

Y/N watched Loreza scurry away with Gryves and let herself sink a little more into her husband’s hold. “I’ve always wanted to go to Essos.”

Oberyn’s lips skirted across her pulse. “I want to take you to Pentos when we are finished with our business with the Dragon Queen. I want you to know where your mother came from, to know her as she knew you.”

Tears Y/N didn’t know she had suddenly burned at the back of her eyes and she turned to press her forehead against his shoulder, grabbing fistfuls of his loose robes and breathing in the scent of him and blinked back the strange show of emotion. “You are a good man, Oberyn.”

His hold tightened. “Only for the ladies of my life.”

The sea did not agree with Y/N.

The constant swaying of the boat had her stomach rolling from the time she woke until lunch and Ellaria was always quick to press a cooled cloth to her cheeks and force a bit of juice into her stomach along with dry bread in an attempt to help while Oberyn was adamant she try to sleep as much as she could. Elia and Obara did tease Y/N at their nightly dinners on the polished deck—“you’re the sea-sick serpent,” was their favorite jape and never failed to make her smile. Tyene offered some sparkling, pink drink with a small smile and a quiet murmur that she wasn’t fond of traveling by sea either. The concoction tasted like honey and citrus and rolled her stomach for only a moment before granting Y/N a few hours reprieve each day they were aboard the large ship. Oberyn and Ellaria quickly made use of those few hours to sequester themselves in the dark cabin and let themselves indulge in carnal desires that Y/N was more than happy to partake in. Oberyn and Ellaria always left her panting and sated—and with a pillow under her hips and laughter on their lips. It was…wonderful in a beautifully chaotic way. They would talk in hushed whispers and quiet laughs until one of them—usually Y/N—fell asleep.

While the company was good, Y/N was thankful that Queen Daenerys had been willing to meet them in Myr instead of her usual seat of power of Mereen in Dragon’s Bay. It took several weeks off their travel time and Y/N was much too pleased to step out onto the wooden boards of the gangplank and she felt something solid under her feet for the first time since they had departed from Sunspear.

A large group was waiting at the docks, bedecked in white and purple silks with black leathers and a three-headed dragon pin over their hearts.

“Welcome to the Stormborn Empire,” a man said with a tip of his head. “Queen Daenerys has asked that you follow us to the palace.”

Ellaria stepped to her side and linked their arms together with a smile as Oberyn dealt with the emissaries with his usual bravado with Sallera at his side and Obara at his back. “Another adventure, hm?” Ellaria murmured.

“Yes,” Y/N said, feeling a touch of excitement in her stomach instead of sea sickness. “Let’s make the most of it.”

Myr was a city of science and art and the markets they moved through glittered with finery and Y/N tried to make a note of the stalls she wanted to peruse if they ever had a chance to leave the palace between meetings with the Queen. Nymeria was already haggling with a merchant over a filigreed dagger with a pearl-encrusted hilt. The air was crisp with the scent of the sea, foreign spices, and expensive perfumes and Y/N breathed it in, tilting her head back to feel the sun’s warmth on her face for the first time in this strange land.

But a shadow passed across the sun and had Y/N blinking in confusion toward the sky. She was dreaming—she was sure of it. A large black dragon nearly blotted out the sun with its massive wingspan, only needing to flap its wings once to stay airborne as it continued toward the gleaming white-stone palace a few paces north.

A dragon. A real dragon.

Y/N listened to Loreza nearly screech with excitement as Dorea and Obella gasped.

“She has three, does she not?” Ellaria said, also looking up. “I wonder what other marvels this land will hold for us.”

Daisy was still glowing; the smile she had at her wedding ceremony seemed now to be a permanent fixture on her face. Daemon seemed to be a bit lighter on his feet, too. He and Daisy were now Lord and Lady Sandstar, having been given the title and prestige of a House of Landed Knights and ‘legitimized’ name as a wedding gift from a grateful House Martell and the reigning king and queen of Westeros. A small keep outside the Shadow City was also given but the newlyweds still spent most of their time within Sunspear’s walls but both had accompanied the Martells to Myr.

“I have never been further east than Sunspear, Princess,” she said as she helped Y/N unpack their trunks despite Y/N her (repeatedly) it was not her duty any longer. “This is quite the adventure.”

A stern-looking older man had welcomed them into the “small” palace made entirely of white marble and sand-colored stone and said Queen Daenerys offered them grand apartments as they discussed trade agreements the following day. The man apologized on behalf of his queen, stating that Daenerys and her consort were away settling a small dispute within their large khalasar outside the city walls but would return by morning.

No one seemed to mind, happy to explore Myr and all its treasures for the rest of the day instead of having to collect themselves for hours-long discussions about trade and alliances.

The rooms they had been given were filled with velvet-lined pillows and cushions and fine silks and linens in an array of muted greens and soft tans. A sapphire blue pool was on the terrace and it sparkled in the sunlight while a looming persimmon tree provided a small bit of shade.

“I daresay I enjoy this sort of adventure much more than the ones we are accustomed to back in King’s Landing, no?” Y/N said with a small laugh.

Most everyone else had absconded to the city to find their own escapades before supper. Y/N promised Ellaria she would meet her and the little ones at the bazaar as soon as she was finished unpacking. Obara and Elia had tried to get Y/N to come to the training grounds to watch the famed Unsullied spar but had managed to agree to accompany them in the morning as a happy medium. Oberyn promised to show his older daughters where he spent his time in Myr when he was with the Second Sons but would meet everyone in the bazaar before sundown.

Daisy laughed and finished with the last trunk before linking her arm with Y/N’s, and leading her out of the pleasantly quiet castle and into the Myrish sunlight. And the day was pleasant. Ellaria and the girls were easily spotted and had filled their arms with fresh breads and fine linens—and even a few small dragon sculptures Dorea was particularly fond of.

“It is good to see you well again,” Daisy said as they looked over a stall of tapestries while they waited for Ellaria to help Obella haggle for a bracelet of hammered copper. “For a moment, I thought you were…” her eyes flittered around, as if trying to find some hidden threat until Y/N reached out and gently squeezed her hand. “I thought you might be truly ill. Your Prince was fretting the entire time, you know. Nearly scolded the captain every time a wave jostled the boat too much for his liking. He is still very much the Viper.”

Y/N simply smiled and shook her head. “He and Ellaria are too good to me.”

“They treat you as you deserve, Princess. Just as you treat them. They will sing songs of your love in the years to come, I know it.”

Ellaria turned and held up a bolt of yellow lace with a smile and a wink in Y/N’s direction and Y/N had to laugh, remembering the yellow dress that had essentially started it all.

Something hit her nose—something acrid and curdled and Y/N had to hurriedly press a hand over her mouth to keep herself from spewing the contents of her stomach across the stone walkway.

“Princess?”

Y/N waved away Daisy’s concern and tried to pull in a steadying breath as she screwed her eyes shut as if that would stop the rolling of her stomach. And then as soon as it came, it passed. “I am fine, Daisy. My stomach is still acclimating to solid ground, it seems.” Daisy seemed unconvinced but nodded as Y/N tried to smile again. She spotted Oberyn with his older daughters, slowly making their way toward Ellaria and the little ones. All of them were cast in the dying, golden light of the day, making them look like some beautiful, moving painting that should be hung in the halls of a palace or sept for all to see.

This was her family.

Y/N pulled in a breath and waved as Dorea proudly held another tiny Morningstar above her head, victorious. While she had forgotten her beloved weapon at home (and had pouted about it for nearly the entire first day aboard the ship), it seemed Dorea had found a suitable replacement.

Hopefully she wouldn’t break anything in Queen Daenerys’ palace before the trade agreements were completed.

Oberyn’s beautiful brown eyes tracked across the crowded walkway before landing on her. A familiar smile pushed up his plush lips and Y/N found herself mirroring his grin even as an odd sensation started to pull at the back of her mind. Oberyn’s smile died and he was shoving his way through the crowd as the world suddenly went dark.

Y/N woke with a start, barely registering the unfamiliar bed before she emptied her stomach into a brass pot on the floor. Ellaria was at her side in a moment, rubbing soothing circle into her back as her stomach continued to roll.

Oberyn stepped into her line of vision with a glass of deep purple juice that smelled of something sweet. Y/N took the glass and drank it without preamble to rid her mouth of the taste of bile.

“I thought we were done surprising each other, my moonlight,” he said softly, his hand joining Ellaria’s on her back.

“What happened?”

“You fainted,” Ellaria said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N’s temple. “Nearly opened your skull on the stone if not for Daisy’s quick hands to steady you.”

“I thought sea-sickness would have stopped after we docked.” Her poor attempt at a joke only made Oberyn sigh, a small smile now starting to pull at the corners of his mouth.

“You are not sick,” he said.

“Oh?” Confusion washed over her as Oberyn took the empty glass from her hands as a servant dealt with the brass pot. Ellaria moved to sit beside her on the bed as Oberyn mirrored her action, boxing Y/N in with their familiar warmth.

“You are with child, my love.” Her hands settled against Y/N’s stomach with a smile. “A prince or princess of Dorne grows just here.”

Oberyn nuzzled into Y/N’s neck and the smile she felt against her pulse had her laughing.

“A baby? Are you certain?”

Ellaria nodded with tears glistening in her eyes and Y/N placed her hands over hers and squeezed. “Queen Daenerys’ own healer saw to you after we brought you here. He confirmed it. You will be due in a handful of moons.”

Tears filled her eyes and she let out a watery laugh, her hands continuing to squeeze Ellaria’s. “A baby. We certainly wasted no time.”

Oberyn and Ellaria laughed at that, earning her a pair of kisses to her cheeks before Ellaria gently brushed her tears away. “No tears, my love. Only joy. And you must promise to tell us if you are feeling ill. We cannot have you fainting again.”

“I promise.”

The three spoke for a little longer, in soft tones about the future and how she will look “wondrous, ethereal, when you start to show, my moonlight” and how loved the babe already was by all of them.

But then a silly, almost childish thought crossed her mind. “Will you still take me to Pentos?”

Oberyn leaned in to press his smiling mouth against her forehead. “I will take you anywhere you desire, my moonlight. You are giving us a most precious gift; I will give you anything you desire.”

The Dragon Queen was a petite woman with the same look as her ancestors—silver hair and purple eyes. At her back stood Gaelor, a tall man with the same Valyrian characteristics and his mouth set in a firm line. Her consort, some nobleman of the Blood of Old Valyria and a man of few words except to make his wife smile if the whispers she’d heard were true.

Y/N was almost giddy to be able to speak in her mother’s tongue and to speak with Daenerys in hers. Bastard and High Valyrian were much easier for her mouth anyway, and she loved that she could finally find a way to tease Oberyn and Ellaria in her own way. Both of them knew enough High Valyrian to understand most of what she was saying—and paid back in kind with heated kisses in shadowed corners between meetings with Daenerys and her advisors—which seemed to go swimmingly, if Y/N had anything to say about it. Oberyn and Sarella were master negotiators and Ellaria was always quick to offer a kind smile and differing opinion when tensions ran a bit too high with a handful of the Dragon Queen’s advisors and kept the conversation flowing.

When they adjourned the meeting for the third day and she did not have any other set plans, Y/N found herself mostly drawn to Queen Daenerys’ Hand, a woman with delicate features and beautiful eyes named Missandei. Y/N asked her to share a bit of time and tea with her if she was amiable—and she was, much to Y/N’s relief. Within only a handful of hours, Y/N found Missandei to be perhaps the most intelligent and compassionate person she had ever met. Listening to her speak of Daenerys’ campaign across Essos, building her empire from the Bone Mountains to the shores of the Narrow Sea (leaving on Braavos out from under her rule, knowing the Braavosi had had their fair share of Valyrian overlords), had taken most of the day and into the night and the discussion turned from political machinations to how they both found homes in foreign lands—there was something so beautifully enrapturing about her and Y/N did not miss how Missandei’s gentle eyes would sparkle whenever Grey Worm, Daenerys’ most trusted sword (aside from the former Kingsguard Knight Ser Barristan), would step into the room to whisper something or other into a different guard’s ear as the rotation continued.

“I have kept you from each other in my selfish desire to hear your stories, Lady Missandei. I apologize. Please, take your leave. I did not mean to keep you so long.”

Missandei shook her head. “It was a welcome reprieve from court, Princess. I truly did not mind.”

The door opened again and Y/N let her smile break across her face as Grey Worm once again entered the room. “You may not have minded, but I would be so bold to assume that there is someone who might require your presence more than I do.” Y/N gestured toward Grey Worm who was whispering into the out-going guard but his kind, dark eyes would ever so briefly flitter to Missandei.

The royal adviser smiled and shook her head but she did not deny it.

“Our conversation has been a joy but I will never keep you from someone who makes you smile like that,” Y/N said as she reached out to gently squeeze her hands. “I will see you in the morn.”

Missandei nodded and they whispered their goodnights before Grey Worm stepped to their side and held out a hand for Missandei to take, gently helping her up from her seat.

Y/N eventually found her way back to her rooms and undressed before sliding under the blankets to press against Oberyn’s warm back and kiss his shoulder as he reached back to grab one of her hands and kiss her fingers before holding her hand over his heart. “Goodnight, my moonlight.”

On the last day of their Myrish political adventure, Y/N found herself once again waking before her pair of loves and quietly snuck out of her rooms to wander the palace’s halls as her stomach rolled lightly but the fresh air settled it for the most part. She smiled at a few of the quietly moving servants who were preparing for the day in the inky blue light of dawn and managed to find the kitchens and was readily given a small bowl of berries and a cup of juice by an older cook with a gentle smile who spoke softly to Y/N in Valyrian as she kneaded dough for the day. Y/N eventually excused herself as the kitchens grew more and more crowded with people arriving for their duties and she wandered out toward one of the balconies that looked out over the heart of the city.

There was a thunderous roar overhead just as she settled into a lacquered chair and Y/N watched Drogon soar over the city, in awe of the beautiful creature.

Daenerys had been kind enough to indulge Y/N the day before and walked with her out to where her three sons were nesting and gently coaxed Drogon out before letting Y/N feel the strangely warm and shining black scales beneath her palm. The large dragon huffed and pressed his large snout against her belly.

“They can tell when you are with child,” Daenerys said with a smile, letting her dainty hand run up and down her favorite dragon’s neck. “They become very protective. If you had stayed any longer, I would have to worry that he would not let you leave.”

And, as strange as it seemed, it reminded Y/N of Gryves. He must have sensed the change before even she did—and that is why he had been so careful around her before they had left Sunspear. She knew he was in good company at the Water Gardens with Doran and Trystane, probably getting fed fine steak every night.

“Hello,” a soft voice said, gaining Y/N’s attention.

Y/N turned and spotted a young girl, no older than three and a mirror image of her mother with silver-gold hair—mussed and tangled with sleep—and amethyst-colored eyes. “Hello, princess.” While Daenerys had kept her daughter mostly away from the meetings, the little girl had been known to flit in and out of the room to sit on her parents’ laps and nap whenever she felt like it.

“May I have a berry?” Her little hand was already raised to pluck one from the bowl.

“Of course,” Y/N said, letting her take a juicy red berry from the pile. “You are up early.”

The girl nodded and happily popped the berry between her lips and chewed. “I heard mother’s dragons. They wake me up almost every day.” She sighed loudly and then invited herself onto Y/N’s lap before taking another berry. “Mother said I will be able to fly one, one day.”

“I’m sure you will, Princess,” Y/N said with a smile.

The pair spoke for a little longer—mostly about how the little princess hoped Rhaegal would be her dragon as the sun continued to rise and make Myr start to glitter—before there was a soft sound of sandaled feet on stone met her ears. Y/N turned to see the Dragon Queen walking in, a soft smile on her face as she spotted her daughter in Y/N’s arms.

“Rhaella,” Daenerys sang out the name, stretching out her arms and letting the small child run into her hold after she wiggled off Y/N’s lap. “She was not bothering you, I hope.”

Y/N stood and shook her head. “Of course not. We were simply enjoying some berries together and watching the sun rise.” Y/N held out the bowl of berries and let Rhaella take another, a bit of purple juice running down her chin before her mother wiped it away and kissed her cheek.

Y/N briefly wondered if her child would look more like her or Oberyn; would she have quiet mornings like this once they were born? Watching the sun rise over the Summer Sea and eating berries in the quiet morning air?

“Will you join us for breakfast? If you have not had your fill of berries?”

The final discussion about the trade agreements was supposed to simply formalities and signing of the written treaties but had devolved into another argument between Daenerys’ advisors and Oberyn who differed on how each side would keep to their agreements.

“There must be some sort of tie, a true bond, make sure they keep their side of the agreement when Winter comes to Essos. If Prince Oberyn had any sons, they might make a suitable consort to Princess Rhaella. Or if he had thought to consult his king, we might have avoided this diatribe entirely—how can they be a true envoy for Westeros if they are not even sure if King Robb and Queen Margaery have heirs to be used as-”

Daenerys waved her hand and effectively halted any other words her advisor might have said on the subject. “Children will not be used as pawns.”

And Y/N let out a breath she did not know she was holding and Oberyn curled his fingers over her thigh for comfort. “A welcome reprieve from the usual trappings, Your Grace. Thank you.”

But Y/N’s gaze flittered over to the advisor whose pasty white skin was growing redder with each passing moment. And perhaps Y/N would blame her sudden anger on her constantly rolling emotions, but she simply had never liked the pale-faced advisor and his constant sneering at Oberyn, Ellaria, and their daughters and she had reached a breaking point. “Forgive me, but it seems not all present share your sentiment. Do you have more to say? It would seem you think you are the one we are to be negotiating with, instead of Her Grace.”

Sarella nudged her foot under the table, trying to fight a smile.

Daenerys, for the first time since they had arrived on Essos, looked like the battle-hardened conqueror the world knew her to be as she dragged her violet-colored gaze to her advisor, tiny hand nearly snapping the quill in her grasp. “You have embarrassed me and yourself enough,” she hissed in Valyrian. “You are only here as an act of goodwill toward Qarth who has overstepped time and time again. I want you out of my sight and out of the city.”

The advisor gaped as he stared at the queen—unmoving.

“Now.”

When he continued to not move, two Unsullied marched to the back of his chair and yanked him to his feet as he sputtered over his next breath and panicked apologies soon followed—even after he was dragged out of the hall.

Daenerys took a quiet but deep breath before letting another small smile push at her lips. “I apologize for the interruption. Now, I do not see why the Seven Kingdoms would not hold up their end of the agreement when Winter comes to Essos. I know House Martell honors their promises, even if previous generations of House Targaryen was not worthy of them.”

And then Oberyn’s fingers tightened on Y/N’s thigh for his own comfort. But Daenerys’ sentiment was genuine.

“We will provide for each other—as friends and allies across the Narrow Sea.”

Oberyn, Ellaria, and Y/N each grabbed their chalices—filled with wine or juice—and raised them toward Daenerys. “To the Dragon Queen!”

The great hall of the Myrish palace was alive with music and dancing and the air smelled sweet with wine. Dorea and Loreza were currently each holding one of Y/N’s hands and they simply swayed to the music, almost on beat as Tyene teased them for lack of coordination as she spun around them on the arm of some nobleman who was already besotted. Obara and Elia were speaking with a handful of Unsullied near a table filled with honey cakes and persimmons while Obella and Oberyn danced—much more gracefully a few couples away. Sarella and Nymeria had, unsurprisingly, found their way to Daenerys’ side and the three were speaking as if they were old friends.

Y/N spotted Grey Worm gently take Missandei’s hand and lead her in a dance. It was good to see almost everyone enjoying the bit of festivities Daenerys had insisted upon. It was an oddly docile end to a slightly chaotic trip but she was happy to not have any other stressors—Ellaria had threatened to put her on bedrest until the baby was born if she fainted again.

The song finished with a muted flourish and Y/N’s two partners darted away toward the honey cakes. Y/N was quickly offered a cup of juice—a blend Daenerys had been fond of when she was with child—and thanked the servant as she looked over the small crowd. Tomorrow they would sail for Pentos for a handful of days before making their way back to Dorne. Ships filled with food were already on the way to Westeros, bearing the seals of the Stormborn Empire.

It was a triumph, to be sure.

But she simply wanted to be back in Dorne, wrapped up in her familiar blankets and her husband and paramour’s arms, listening to the girls laugh in the halls as the waves crashed against the shore and her beloved hound napped near her feet.

And it was a solace to know that it would be happening soon. She would not cut their trip short—seeing Pentos and bringing the girls to see it too was an adventure she knew needed to happen.

“You look pensive, my moonlight,” Oberyn said, slinking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. “It is a joyous night.”

“It is,” she agreed, leaning into his grasp. Both of them noticed Ellaria, draped in a fiery red gossamer gown—a gift from Daenerys—was dancing with Gaelor.

Gaelor smiled—just for a moment—at something Ellaria whispered in his ear.

“She can rend smiles from stone,” Oberyn mused with a smile of his own.

“You know, Robb could have simply sent Ellaria and Sarella for this—they are the true negotiators.”

Oberyn’s chest rumbled with a poorly contained laugh. “True, my moonlight. But I am happy to have this adventure with you and Ellaria, with my girls.” He pulled her a little closer then made her sway to the music, a laugh bubbling from her throat. “Now, tell me. What has you brooding?”

Y/N continued to sway with him and let her hands rest over his arms as they held her tight. “I miss Dorne. I miss home.” She paused and grimaced. “It sounds silly when I say it aloud.”

Oberyn turned his face just enough to press his lips against her throat. “It is not silly. Wanting to return home is natural. Do you want to set sail-”

“No, no, my love. I want to see Pentos—as do the girls. I will not take that opportunity away. I doubt we will have a Stormborn escort if we return later. It is better to do it now—before we have another little one.”

“If you are sure,” he said, face still tucked against her throat.

“I am sure,” Y/N said with another squeeze to his arms as the music continued to play. “One more adventure before we welcome the newest little snake to our brood. It will be good. I know it.”

Pentos was beautiful—as Y/N knew it would be. Her mother and grandparents’ stories had filled her head with pictures of how it would look, what it would be like—what she would encounter. And she spent a few melancholy moments wondering if her mother walked the same streets as she did. She wondered if her grandparents would recognize the city as it was now, under Daenerys’ new rule.

But, yes, Pentos was beautiful. Fragrant with flowers and clean water and a bite of some spice Y/N could not name but recognized as it had clung to her grandmother’s dresses. The Magisters welcomed them into the city and made sure to house them in a palatial manse and were quick to get them anything they even glanced at while accompanying them throughout the bazaars.

Oberyn found it both hilarious and irksome to be so coddled.

“How am I supposed to ravish you in a dark city corner if we are being followed like disobedient children?”

“I think they would like the show, my love,” Ellaria said with a laugh.

Y/N snorted and shook her head. “You two are insatiable.”

“You were the reason our breakfast was served cold this morning, my moonlight.” His fingers danced down Y/N’s spine before pinching her butt with a smirk. “But you will never hear me complain about feeling Ellaria’s warmth around me and your tongue on my-”

Y/N smacked at his chest and shushed him as a group of children rushed by. “You seemed to enjoy it, my prince. But I will not do it again if you tell everyone.”

Ellaria laughed as Oberyn grinned wolfishly. “Every person in this Realm should know that I aim to please my lover and wife—no matter the hour.”

“You can commission a song when we are back in Dorne—but let us have some air of mystery while we are here, hm?” Y/N patted his stomach with a grin of her own.

“We could have a song for you here, Princess!” One of the Magisters said, nearly begging in his tone. “Our bards are legendary!”

Ellaria did little to conceal her laugh which soon had Y/N in stitches, too.

Yes, Pentos had changed. And perhaps she would want to visit again. But her mother had found a home in the Vale with her father. And Y/N had found a home in Dorne with Ellaria and Oberyn and their daughters.

And it was time to go home.

“There are two.”

“Two?” Y/N repeated, pitch rising in tone. “Two babies?” Her hands pressed against her stomach—quickly followed by Gryves’ cold snout, as if he could help soothe something. “Are you certain?”

The midwife nodded, a smile on her face. “You have been blessed.”

Y/N had wondered why her babe was constantly moving and kicking at her bladder and ribs at the same time—but it seemed they had conspired to move together.

“No wonder you are so irritable!” Obara dodged the slap Y/N aimed at her shoulder with a laugh. “Father is going to be pleased. An even ten.”

“Why are you even here?” Y/N asked, fighting a smile. “You are supposed to be helping Dorea with her Morningstar!”

“With Father and Ellaria away with Uncle Doran and Lady Daisy confined to her home with a cold, you know I wasn’t going to let you go to this alone.”

Tears filled Y/N’s eyes so swiftly it caught her off-guard and all she could say was a meager, “thank you,” in response to Obara’s gruff kindness.

“Don’t start crying—I’ll have to call Elia and you know she will only start crying, too. You know how excited she is for another little one—or two now, it seems.”

Y/N sniffled and nodded, “Yes, I know.” Gryves, sensing more duress, placed his head in Y/N’s lap and his big, black eyes looked up at her in worry.

As the midwife quietly excused herself, Obara awkwardly but sincerely tried to console the whimpering pregnant woman at her side with a few soft pats to her shoulder. “They will be good children—little hellions with father’s eyes and your penchant for trouble.”

“My penchant for trouble?” Y/N snorted through tears. “I am almost offended.”

It had been a quick pregnancy, if Y/N was honest. The months had flown by in a whirlwind of well-wishes, gifts from the other kingdoms, and a myriad of emotions that seemed to fling from one extreme to the other within in moments on some days. All that could truly calm her—or the babes down—was Oberyn and Ellaria and they were off with Doran, planning to host Robb and Margaery to celebrate the coming of Spring after a blessedly short Winter. Y/N had wanted to travel to the Water Gardens, too, but had found riding on Qēlos to be uncomfortable and the poor mare seemed to sense her duress and would stop every few paces and look back at Y/N in the saddle before they both deemed it impossible to ride until the baby had been delivered.

“They will be home soon,” Obara said gently with a squeeze to her shoulder. “Before nightfall—but with how anxious they were to leave you, I would not be surprised if they arrived earlier.”

One of the babies suddenly kicked and Y/N winced. “I do hope you’re right.”

And, of course, Obara was correct. Ellaria and Oberyn were all but sprinting into their chambers, arms laden with more gifts from Doran and more Dornish lords and ladies who wanted to lathe their well-wishes on the soon-to-be-born Martell. But all of them were dropped unceremoniously on the ground near the door as soon as they entered.

“My moonlight!” Oberyn nearly shouted before he dove onto their massive featherbed and pressed a quick kiss to her stomach before taking his time when his mouth reached hers, sighing against her lips. “We refuse to leave you again until the baby is born.”

“We could not concentrate on anything poor Doran needed for this silly little party,” Ellaria said, also sliding into the bed and stealing a kiss from Y/N’s lips. “I thought we would come back to Sunspear to see you with a babe on your breast.”

“You were gone for two days, my loves,” Y/N said with a small laugh, letting the pair continue to curl around her in the mess of blankets and pillows. “I would have sent someone if the midwife had said it was time.”

Oberyn hummed and kissed at her shoulder. “Even so, we are not leaving your side again.”

“But I do have news-”

“Is the baby healthy? What did the midwife say?” Ellaria asked in quick succession, hand splaying against Y/N’s stomach.

Y/N huffed out another laugh and placed one hand over Ellaria’s before reaching out to grasp Oberyn’s hand, too. “The midwife seems to think that we have been blessed.” The matching looks of confusion on Ellaria and Oberyn’s faces had another laugh bubbling in her throat. “They are healthy—no need to worry. But, she did give me some news.” And because she loved teasing the pair just a bit, she paused and watched a flurry of emotions pass over both their faces before ending their torment. “There are two babies.”

“Two?!” “TWINS?!” Oberyn and Ellaria’s voices reverberated in the room and had Y/N laughing like a drunkard until tears started to roll down her cheeks.

“Yes! Two!”

There was another shout that Y/N couldn’t quite understand but then two pairs of hands were pressing all over her stomach, followed by excited kisses and then her dressing gown was being pulled up to show her stomach and even more kisses were lathed against her warm skin.

Between happy sighs, almost-chaste kisses, and words of wonderment, clothes were shed and discarded across the bed and floor and lingering touches became more ardent. Lips lingered. Tasted. And they once again found ecstasy in each other’s arms. Oberyn kissed between Y/N’s heaving breasts as he finished, and then kissed her lips, still tasting of Ellaria who was panting beside them, surrounded by the feathers that had been ripped from the pillows only a few moments prior.

“You are a force of nature, my moonlight.”

“A storm to behold,” Ellaria whispered, sliding closer to also steal a kiss between their lips.

Y/N smiled against his mouth and tugged at the mussed ends of his hair at the nape of his neck. “And you two helped unleash me unto the world. And now there will be two more.”

Ellaria and Oberyn’s matching smiles took her breath away again for the umpteenth time that day as they gazed down at her. “And the world is theirs for the taking.”

Y/N knew the birth would be painful. She knew it could last days. Maesters and septas and midwives had all tried to tell her what this would entail—but nothing had prepared her for the frantic pacing of Oberyn or the gentle guidance of Ellaria as she sat at her side.

“You are nearly there, my love, I know it,” Ellaria cooed, pushing the sweat-soaked hair away from her forehead. “You can do it.”

She screamed with the last few pushes, hearing her blood roar in her ears and then…

“A girl!” Daisy said—it was quickly followed by, “and a boy!”

“A boy?” Y/N asked, head swimming. She has not thought of the possibility of a boy. Oberyn always seemed to have girls—girls is what she had been expecting. Not a boy. A son.

For a moment, Y/N panicked.

But she looked at Oberyn as Daisy handed him his son and his face split into a smile, she knew she should have never doubted his love for his children—even for a second. “A boy. How you keep surprising me, my moonlight.”

Her eyes drifted to Ellaria to see her cradling her baby girl with the same sweet smile even as the babe screamed and squirmed. “They are beautiful, my love,” Ellaria said softly. “Healthy.”

“That’s all I wanted,” Y/N said, feeling the midwife finish her duties before gently taking the twins from Oberyn and Ellaria and handing them to Y/N, propping her up against a mound of pillows and then quietly excusing herself for a moment. Y/N cradled both babes to her chest, letting them press their round little cheeks to her skin as they opened their little mouths in matching yawns, tried from their journey into the world.

“They need names, my moonlight.”

“And they shall have them—but let me just look at them for a little longer.”

“Lewyn! Rohanne!”

“Coming mama!” Came the answering chorus from the orange groves.

Nearly five years had passed since she had brought the smallest Martells into the world. Five wondrous, exhausting years filled with tears, laughter, and change.

The children called both Y/N and Ellaria ‘mama’ and Oberyn ‘papa.” Harmen Uller was their grandfather who spoiled them rotten, just as he did with Elia, Obella, Dorea, and Loreza. The twins’ older sisters were also fond of making sure they had everything and anything their little hearts desired while Doran and Trystane doted on them as well. Gryves had taken to sleeping between their beds, a quiet sentinel who would often wake them up with licks to their tiny feet as the sun started to rise if he was not tucked away in Dorea or Loreza's rooms.

Patrek had come to Dorne to formally court Obara, much to her amused chagrin. They were married in a small ceremony and spent their time at Sunspear until the last vestiges of Winter had thoroughly melted—and promised they would return if there was even a brisk wind.

Tyene and Nymeria found themselves invited to be part of Daenerys’ court in Essos, as part of the growing alliance between Westeros and her Empire. They wrote often and both seemed to have cultivated their own little kingdom there too, filled with beautiful men and women who loved to keep their ladies happy and who helped them rule over Qarth in Daenerys’ name.

Sarella quickly became a powerful advisor at court in King’s Landing and had been named Mistress of Whispers on the Small Council for Robb and Margaery’s rule. Elia continued to train alongside her family’s guards and had even started competing in tourneys and unseating seasoned knights with her trusted lance. Oberyn and Ellaria always cheered the loudest when she was victorious. Obella took advantage of Robb allowing women to attend the Citadel and forged four links before, like her father, grew bored and then took the Dornish seat on the Small Council which Sarella had vacated. Dorea and Loreza were still managing to evade their septa and maesters during their lessons but mostly behaved themselves, maturing more each day.

Daisy and Daemon had welcomed a little boy just a few moons ago and the happy, little family had taken to resting in their manse for a few weeks to enjoy the new babe. Sansa had recently married to a Northern lord and had welcomed Arya and Gendry back to Winterfell--along with their daughter. Robb and Margaery had recently celebrated their daughter's second birthday and announced that another heir was on the way to the delight of the realm.

Two little bodies slammed into Y/N’s legs and nearly leveled her, four tiny arms wrapping around her thighs and tangling with the ruby red fabric of her dress. Matching dark brown eyes stared up at her, sparkling in the sunlight—just like their father’s did. Both of them had streaks of blood orange juices across their cherubic cheeks and were probably staining her skirts, too.

“I thought we promised to not sneak more oranges before meals, hm?” Y/N asked, wiping away a little bit from their skin.

Gryves trotted up behind them, looking proud with a large stick between his teeth.

“Well, Gryves went into the orchards, mama!” Rohanne said, plump bottom lip jutting out—a face she knew would allow her to get away with murder with her father. “We had to follow him to make sure he was safe.”

“Last time, he almost fell in the pool,” Lewyn said, trying to bolster his sister’s argument.

“He knows how to swim, my love. Better than you.”

The twins looked at each other for a moment and then back up at their mother. “Do you want an orange?” Rohanne stuck her little hand into the folds of her dress and produced a blood orange nearly as big as her head like a peace offering. “We saved this one for you.”

Y/N took it with a smile and bent to give each of them a kiss on a sticky cheek. “No lemon cakes tonight after supper.”

“But mama!” They cried.

“You two already had something sweet. You know the rules.” Y/N saw Rohanne starting to plot an argument but Lewyn nudged her and shook his head. He was the quieter of the two, happy to follow his sister’s lead in most situations but also knew when to play the long game, knowing how to pick his imaginary battles when Rohanne wanted to pick all of them. They were quite the pair—and Y/N would not change them for all the gold in the world.

“My little vipers!” Oberyn suddenly swooped in and hauled the twins into his hold kissing all over their cheeks as they squealed and giggled before pausing. “You taste of blood oranges.”

“Sneaking sweets again?” Ellaria laughed as she stepped to Y/N’s side and kissing her softly.

“They taste good, mama!” Rohanne said with another pout, turning in her father’s grip to look at Ellaria.

“I know they do, my love. But you eat too many and turn your stomach. There are rules for a reason.”

“I told you they would notice,” Lewyn murmured, dark eyes cutting to his twin.

Oberyn laughed and kissed them both on the cheek again before bending to let them down. “Go wash up before supper.”

“Yes, papa!” They chimed before dashing away.

The three watched them go, unknowing matching smiles on their faces. “They are going to be such a handful when they’re older.”

“I have no doubt they’ll follow in our footsteps.”

Ellaria chuckled and kissed Oberyn and Y/N’s cheeks. “We have a great many adventures ahead of us still, my loves. But first we have to get them to eat dinner.”

And the three slowly walked back toward the palace, listening to their children's laughter ring in the air.

A/N: And that’s all she wrote, folks! Please let me know what you think!

#oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell imagine #oberyn martell x ellaria sand x reader #game of thrones imagine #oberyn martell x ellaria sand

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