#purple wedding

[jorocks30]

Or my last post alternatively as Sansa! At Joffrey's wedding

#asoiaf #artshit #stark #sansa stark #agot #game of thrones #purple wedding #house stark #house lannister #I especially like the ring and how out of place it is #book inaccurate dress :( but grrm is too detailed and no way im drawing vair #hmm seem's like there's a jewel out of place

[yosb]

thrice wed, twice widowed. i loved how severe her wedding dress with joffrey was but how glowing her wedding dress with tommen was

#asoiaf #margaery tyrell #game of thrones #costume design #purple wedding #royal wedding

[wardenparker]

The Viper’s Bride - ch 5

Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst​

The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.  

Rating: E for Explicit  Word Count: 15.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, internalized homophobia. Reader is described as having hair long enough to braid* A whole lot of nudity, reflections on poor sex education, internalized shame, Mom-frontation, absurd amounts of tension, we’re not even sorry, dialing up the yearning, anxiety, mentions of parental abuse, a whole heaping dose of inadequate communication. Summary: The day of King Joffrey and Lady Margaery’s wedding holds surprises for everyone. Notes: Y’all the WAY this chapter makes me cry. There is so much going on and the day is so intense to begin with. Keri really and truly out does herself with every step forward this quartet takes.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4

The sun rise does not wake you, nor the sound of servants moving in and out of the room. The warmth and security of having Raeden's arm heavy on your waist has kept you deep in a blissful sleep more revitalizing than you have had in a very long time. Food has been laid and your trunks delivered from the Red Keep while you slept with your soulmate like a rock at your back, and it is not until the scent of freshly lit incense breaks through your dreams that you even have a sense of the world outside of your beautiful dreams.

The warm sun pours through the curtains that Leyth opens, and she hums to herself softly as she moves around the room. Prince Oberyn had given her specific instructions on waking the new princess and her lover gently and hanging the dress he had produced from his trunk, even making sure that the bath room would be emptied for you to have privacy. Though why you need privacy in a whorehouse makes no sense to her. It seems rather...precious. But she does not know your story.

The moment you stir, Raeden opens his eyes. He has spent the last hour awake, holding you close as you continued to dream. As a soldier, he is often up before the sun, training. This morning he had woken due to habit. For a split second believing that yesterday had been a dream until you had sighed softly and the weight of your body pressed against him registered. There were still noises from the chambers where the prince and his soulmate slept, this time it was softer, more intimate. Making him wonder at the paradoxical nature of the prince and if he had not been toying with you when he had said he was interested in a lowly soldier like him. A man who is reliant on his good graces for taking breath today. And why Ellaria’s eyes haunted him enough to dream of her last night.

Leyth catches the movement, smiling at the broad man in the bed and whispering when she sees you haven’t opened your eyes yet. “Meal is laid and so is her dress. When you are ready, Prince Oberyn has ordered the bathing room be emptied so she can have privacy.” That is all she came here to say, so she smiles once more at the handsome man and leaves, shutting the door gently behind her.

He’s grateful that the prince seems to accept your modesty, even if he might not share those same proclivities. His hand slides from his hold on you and he strokes your side softly. “Morning has come.” He murmurs softly, kissing your shoulder. “It is near a dream to wake up with you in my arms.”

“I thought I was dreaming still.” Rough with sleep, your voice is still soft as you open your eyes and turn to burrow into his side. The mix of dreams you had are still fresh in your mind’s eye, sleep barely receding enough to allow you to be present in this moment. “Did you sleep well, my love?”

“Better than ever.” He promises, smiling at your sleepy face. If he had stayed up late thinking on the sounds that had come from next door, it was nothing you needed to concern yourself with.

“Morning light becomes you.” Reaching up to kiss him in the sunlight that streams in through the windows, your fingers dance through the traces of stubble on his jaw and even the top of his head and you giggle to yourself. “Did I hear something about a bath?” He is meticulous about his appearance, and you know that on a day as important as the king’s wedding, you will both want to look your best.

“Your husband has arranged a private bath for you.” Raeden nods and leans in to steal a kiss. He wishes he could give you those things, give you everything you need, but he holds no power.

The sentence stings for a very different reason than it had yesterday, after spending a night dreaming about both men alternately. The guilt you carry for finding yourself attracted to the man you have already married is difficult to reconcile, and you wonder how angry Raeden would feel if he knew. Or worse, betrayed. “That…is kind of him.” You murmur finally, tucking in closer to Raeden’s side.

“It is.” Readen won’t deny that, and his eyes widen when he sees the gown that had been brought in for you. “Like the dress is…shockingly brief.”

“What do you…” Sitting up in bed, you find yourself face to face with a beautiful golden gown embroidered with elaborate flowers across the bodice and vines that extend down the skirt. The light material is silky and inviting, but the brief part of it is the sleeves that look as though they will simply dangle off your shoulders, and the deep dip in the front that would surely do everything in its power to highlight your breasts for any who might look. “It’s…exceptionally beautiful,” you admit, finding it to be stunning but a little shocking. You would never see the ladies of the Vale wearing anything so revealing. “It must be the fashion…in Dorne.”

“It is a most temperate climate from what I know of it.” He murmurs, wondering how jealous he will be with eyes on your skin. “Perhaps comfort is afforded over modesty?”

"Perhaps it will be more modest on the body than it seems to the eye." It is more intimidating than you would like to admit, to come to these changes all at once, but it is what you chose. A new gown is hardly a terrible price to pay for Raeden's safety. "Either way, it is what I will wear to the king's wedding. Dornish colors and Dornish fashion."

“You will be fit to cling to the Prince’s arm.” His own robes will be splendid as well, he will make sure to take great pains to shine his boots and his sword. “It will be a grand introduction to the new princess.”

"It will be a great shock to some." You can think of a half dozen names off the top of your head. "I only hope that Lady Margaery does not view it as an attempt to steal sunshine from her day. The last thing I wish is to offend a queen."

“I doubt she will view it as such a thing.” He assures you, turning and kissing your shoulder. “It is not like the prince announced your wedding and invited the kingdom.”

“Nor would I have wanted him to.” Turning your head, you plant two soft kisses on Raeden’s lips and smile. The moans and calls to gods and the prince himself are nearly at a crescendo – a sound with which you are now well acquainted. And that, you tell yourself, is the only reason you must have dreamt of him last night. “Let us break our fast and bathe, my love. Today is sure to be long and tiresome.”

Breakfast was far more elaborate than even you were used to. The brothel apparently sparing no expense to make sure that the prince was kept happy. Dates and fruits surround fresh bread and some eggs that were still steaming in their shells. All washed down with a mulled wine that was very pleasing to the palette. It was a meal unlike anything he had experienced before beyond last night.

The bathing room is at the other end of the not inconsiderably sized building, according to the man who escorted your trunks into your chamber last night. He was personable and handsome, like almost everyone else who seemed to do very well working in Baelish’s brothel. The arrival of your trunks with most of your belongings intact meant that you can wrap up in your dressing robe to walk to your bath this morning, a luxury you had not expected. In fact, most moments spent here seemed to be luxurious ones with the exception of the luxury of quiet.

Stepping into the room, Raeden is impressed with the size of the room. The tub is sunk into the middle of the floor, water already pouring into the large cavity from a pipe that comes from the kitchen – he can only assume – as steam swirls up. That is a luxury in itself, not using someone else’s water in a bath this size. The smell of incense and spices fills the air and makes him hum in approval.

“I admit, I had no idea a brothel would be a beautiful place.” Only ever having heard of them as places a lady should never go, you had assumed they would be as dank and unappealing as the men they attracted. As much as you dislike Lord Baelish, his establishment seems to be far above what you had imagined for this house of ill repute.

“I feel as if Baelish like to accommodate the lords that come to King’s Landing.” Raeden pulls off his undershirt and smirks when he sees the shaving tools set off to the side.

“So much the better for us, then.” Your robe joins his clothing on the tiled floor beside the bath and you slip into the steaming water, sighing at the way it relaxes you instantly. There are few things better in the world than a hot bath.

“It is good?” The washing cloths are to the side and Raeden lets you enjoy the warm water as he gathers the perfumed soaps and the cloths.

"It would be better with company." Waking with him has somehow only made you greedy for more time with him, and you admit that you are trying to wipe other thoughts from your mind. Seeing the gown that was left for you this morning now makes you wonder what the prince will be wearing to today's nuptials.

“Company you shall have.” The doors to the bathing room open and Oberyn and Ellaria stroll in, half naked and without a single care. The prince grins at you. “How was your wedding night, my dear?”

“My lord!” The shock of seeing them walk in so brazen and unashamedly has you attempting – and failing – to cover yourself with only your hands and the shrinking away of your body into the far corner of the bath as if the prince might have developed poor eyesight overnight. “You are—I—that is—what an unexpected visit.”

Oberyn tilts his head in confusion at your exclamation. “I had arranged for a private bath for us before the wedding.” He reminds you. “There is nothing that I have not seen before on either of you.” He hums, reaching over and helping Ellaria out of the thin, gossamer gown that concealed nothing.

“Forgive me. It must have…slipped my mind.” It is rude to stare, you know that it is, and yet the pair of them are so beautiful that it is difficult to tear your eyes away. And that certainly is not helping you remember whatever he might have said to you the night before about bathing together.

“Don’t tease, lover.” Ellaria pouts and turns to press her breasts against his chest. “She is not yet used to the way that you view nudity.” She turns towards you and Raeden with a sultry smile.

Caught in your own mix of utter confusion, the impulse to flee is incredibly strong and has you turning away from them to hide your face and body all at once. Even from Raeden. A naked body is a thing of shame, or so you were taught. Always to be covered and hidden away. Even sharing it with a lover or husband is a brazen act of licentiousness. It is unladylike. “Forgive me,” you manage to eek out again, not knowing what to do in this situation at all.

“Do not fret.” Oberyn has no shame as he drops his breeches, revealing every inch of his bare cock as it swings between his thighs. Flaccid, yet still impressive, he turns towards his new guard who is still in his own breeches. “Soon we will be comfortable with one another.”

“Is this…the accepted way…in Dorne?” If it is then you will have to make very large adjustments very quickly, and a knot of dread forms in the pit of your stomach.

“You will not be walking around Dorne for all to see.” He steps into the bath and turns around so he can help his lover into it, holding out his hand. “None but the servants and the people in this room will see you unless you take other lovers.” That might sting; if you were to reject being in his bed and take other men and women into yours.

“I cannot see that being a possibility.” Although Raeden is at your side, holding firmly onto your hand to be an anchor of comfort, the moment is nerve wracking only for you. The prince and Ellaria clearly are more interested than concerned, and Raeden’s years as a soldier have made him far less concerned with nudity in general. He may not examine the pair of lovers who have no intention of leaving, but he certainly is not offended by them. You squeeze his hand gently, hating to be the naive, sheltered child out of the four of you. At five-and-twenty, you have not been a child for many years.

“Do you not believe that love should be shared?” Oberyn asks curiously. “Pleasure is one of life’s greatest gifts, beyond children. Especially if the pleasure is creating them.” He chuckles, kissing his lover’s shoulder and glance at you from it. “Why limit yourself?”

“Your Grace, I was raised by a woman who deemed me a shameful harlot for sharing myself with the man that the gods themselves chose for me. And my father is a man who I do not believe ever touched her more than out of necessity or for her own manipulative ends.” Still clutching your own self, you swallow the moment of fear and turn halfway around in the bath. Enough to be able to see his face, at least. “Pleasure was not precisely a topic of conversation in my household. Even my brothers’ wives considered it unladylike to discuss.”

“Then allow yourself to ask any questions you may have.” He hums, picking up one of the cloths and dipping it into the water so he can slide it over Ellaria’s tits.

“It is not so much that I have questions.” Although you do. Desperately burning ones that you have felt too ashamed even to ask of Raeden. “But more that I wonder at how easily you can share yourself.” Realizing that that might not have sounded how you intend, you end up fostering immediately. “I—I mean it as an admiration,” you clarify, stumbling to explain. “You are very comfortable and free with yourselves. Both of you.”

Oberyn looks at you thoughtfully, sliding his hands up to cup Ellaria’s tits. “It does not take away from my appreciation of these tits to admire yours. Or her love of my cock when she is perched on another.” He explains. “We have our pleasures, separate at times, but most often together. And we find that it makes our own passions for each other that much sweeter.”

“Perhaps I am not enough of the world to understand.” An anxious glance to Raeden beside you does nothing to calm the riot in your mind, and you shake your head, ready to give up on it altogether. Attraction and love seem inexorably linked to you. Or they did, before you met the prince and his paramour.

“You will not be forced to join in on anything you do not wish to.” He squeezes his lover’s tits once more before he looks to Raeden. “Although I am curious as to your views on sex. Is your soulmate your only lover or have you had more?”

“There is not the judgement for bastards that there is for ladies, your Grace.” Though Raeden might not usually hide himself from the view of others, it is a different matter entirely when the others present are enticing to him, and try as he might there is no informing his cock that this is an inappropriate time to stand at attention. “There were others before her, but none since.”

“Good.” Oberyn approves of the idea that you had at least a moderately skilled lover. It is good that you might not be dealing with a man who does not satisfy you. “And do you make sure your soulmate is satisfied?”

“You would have to ask her for the most accurate answer.” It may be the most unconventional line of questioning he’s ever had from a noble, but somehow the part of him that is affronted that the prince would even ask is almost also glad of it? He gets the impression that if he were not satisfying you, Prince Oberyn would be disapproving. “But I believe I can rightfully boast that I am never satisfied until she is.”

“Very good.” Oberyn hums, nodding in agreement of his answer. “That is always the best when your lover is limp with pleasure and unable to cry out your name anymore.” He keeps his hands moving over Ellaria’s skin as he converses.

“With all respect to your meaning…crying out is not a luxury all of us have had.” Certainly before last night, you never had been safe enough with Raeden to do any such thing. He would have been punished severely for even touching you, and even in the beauty of spending last night with him, you never would have been as vocal as the men and women in the next room. You would not have known how. “That is…i—it is not the only way to show pleasure.”

“Even the softest moan of a name is a cry when a cock is filling you or a tongue fluttering against your clit.” Oberyn counters with a small smirk. “Your small whimpers are just as erotic, maybe more so, than the most skilled whore faking pleasure.”

“Your paramour agrees,” Ellaria smiles in her amused way, the one where mischief dances behind her eyes. “Or else he is very much enjoying something that he sees.”

“Yes, he does seem to be stimulated by the atmosphere.” Oberyn is also interested in the exceptional collection of bodies that are in the bathing room. His own reaction hidden by Ellaria’s body as he caresses and washes it. “I must wonder on what is causing it.”

Raeden’s complexion grays, embarrassed to have a condition he cannot control pointed out for all to witness. “It is only natural,” he insists, though the defense is quiet and he turns his back to the pair to retrieve the largest washing cloth he can find – as if that would be any help in hiding his condition.

“It is, there is no shame in it.” Oberyn insists as he sidesteps his paramour to reveal his own erection. “In fact, if you need to take care of it, we do not care if you fuck in the bath.”

The speed at which you avert your eyes is telling, but what it is that you’ve just revealed about yourself, you do not know. Instead it is Raeden who flusters and busies himself with becoming a human shield for you so that you can wash yourself. “She is innocent of such things.” He tells the prince with an edge of soft protection in his voice. As though your innocence is something very precious to him. “Such a thing would never have even crossed her mind.”

The hand that comes up to lay against his chest is soft, the only thing keeping him from sighing in disappointment. He had hoped that after the night, there would have been some thought on your part to the doors opened to you. “As you say.” He turns around so that you don’t have to see him and starts to wash himself.

"I—" Even hidden from view, your voice is just loud enough to be heard. Unsure, faltering more than slightly, you look up at Raeden and around his shoulder to find Ellaria still carefully watching. "It might..." Swallowing the fear that it might upset your soulmate, you have to admit that there are few things that you like more than being spoken for. Your mother would do it constantly – speak on your behalf – and to be out from under her thumb now should have meant you were free from it in private. "If it had not ever occurred to me before – to make love in full view of others – it certainly would have after hearing it." The fact that you also dreamt of it? That is more telling than anything.

Raeden’s eyes widen when he hears your words, a frown furrowing his brow and he reaches out to hold your shoulders. “My love, do not feel pressured to do anything.” He urges you softly.

"I feel no pressure," you promise him, laying your hand over his and squeezing it gently. As reassuring a gesture as such a small thing can be. "It is not something I may ever wish to engage in. But..." It takes more than a moment to gather your thoughts, and you end up sighing. "I want to understand," you say finally. "That is all."

"We are all a part of each other's lives now." Ellaria agrees, looking past Oberyn to offer you a smile. "Understanding is a noble goal."

For his part, Oberyn is impatient and thinks that it might be best to just send you away. But the yearning in your voice mixed with Ellaria’s immediate offer of comfort makes him hesitate. He turns around and stares at you. “Then we will seek to guide you to the answers.”

"I..." Raeden is looking at you as if you have grown a second head, but you look between the three other people in this room – in this one bath – and swallow fear once more. "I am sorry if having to guide me is a disappointment. But I doubt there is a book I could read on the subject."

“If there were such a book, my lover would possess it.” Ellaria assures you, making Oberyn chuckle.

“Forgive me, Princess.” He murmurs after a moment. “I am getting ahead of myself. I forget that you northerners are not raised with the freedoms that I have been afforded.”

"I may never be used to being called princess, and that is the simple end of things." His laugh is relieving, and you end up smiling in your own right. "I do not wish for any of us to be strangers. And if we are to be friends, then understanding is most necessary."

The problem is that he has already realized he does not just want to be your friend, he wants to fuck you. Oberyn wants to bring both you and your paramour into his bed to see how the dynamic would work. “Are you nervous for your entrance to the wedding?”

"Yes." That is not worth lying about, or being too proud to admit, since he will be right beside you and see your fear for himself. "Social grace has never been my greatest skill."

“If you prefer, you can just stay silent.” He hums, smirking slightly since that seems to be a skill you have not mastered despite your mother’s best efforts. “It will be shocking enough to have the Prince of Dorne escorting his wife and his paramour to a wedding.”

"I am afraid silence is not my forte, either." You shake your head, almost laughing at yourself. "Too curious for my own good, my eldest brother likes to say. And besides which, the future queen has...been very friendly to me. I fear keeping silent on such a day would offend her greatly."

“Then you will say what you say and damn whoever takes offense.” He shrugs one shoulder casually and leans back to wet his hair to wash. “You are a princess. Only two inside the seven kingdoms can truly tell you to be quiet.” He doesn’t add that it all depends on the day to determine if he would listen.

"I will endeavor to remember that." Raeden looks doubtful, though, and you urge him down with a hand on his shoulder so that you can kiss him. "It will do none of us any good to be rude, today, my love. I may not say much of anything of interest or importance, but you and the prince will both be there to make sure I do not stumble." Looking past him, you offer your unexpected ally a smile as well. "And Ellaria will be my guide for confidence. I am sure of that."

“You will be perfect.” She muses with a smile of her own. “Your dress will match my own and look splendid against Oberyn’s robes.”

You nod, glad to have Ellaria to bolster you, and set back to washing yourself as modestly and earnestly as possible. "It will be a day not soon to be forgotten."

******

“Do not fret and worry with it too much.” Ellaria murmurs to you as the carriage pulls up. “The more you do, the better chance you have at showing off your unmentionables.” You are very modest and have played with the low hem of the dress several times, drawing Oberyn’s and her own eyes to your breasts.

"I don't think I have ever worn anything as elegant. Or as revealing." You bite your lip when you look back up at her, holding back a self-conscious expression of concern. The gown itself is beautiful and not terribly immodest. While it certainly does show off your figure from the waist up, the thin skirts still envelope your legs and create a sort of flowing golden sea around them that would make even the clumsiest wearer appear elegant. The jewelry that was laid on your neck and hung from your ears gleams in the late morning sun, making you feel simultaneously extravagant and like a doll that has been dressed up by its owner. And perhaps you are exactly that, but the prince's gifts should be on full display today of all days. "I will try not to fuss too much."

"Your Raeden cannot keep his eyes off of you." She confides with a proud smirk, as if that had been her plan all along rather than making sure that everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knew that you are Oberyn Martell's bride. "We will have to remind him not to draw his impressive sword on those that stare at you wantonly." He is not inside the carriage for the ride from Flea Bottom, but Oberyn has decided that he will be the guard brought for the wedding, making sure that your own soulmate is nearby.

“He has more propriety than anyone I have ever met. You need not fear his ability to hold his tongue.” What he might say or do afterward – in private – is another matter entirely. It would not be the first time that Raeden ravaged you after a particularly long day of standing by while you were wearing something he liked very much. Unfortunately, the blue gown that he always claimed was his favorite to see you in had been torn apart by your mother’s rage. Not everything in your trunks had been intact.

"Oh, I am not afraid of what he might say." Ellaria corrects with a smile as she glances over at her own lover. "It is unusual to have a man who does hold his tongue, for our prince has never learned that particular trait."

"I have no need to hold my tongue." Oberyn counters, his dark eyes fixed on you as he answers. "Whatever my position does not afford me, my spear does."

It is not your fault for taking his double meaning. Not truly. Not when he displayed himself to you so fully in the bath this morning and let his fingers graze your neck so enticingly while giving you the necklace you are wearing as a gift not half an hour ago. It is not reprehensible to be flustered slightly by the direct attention of such a worldly man. Not even when that man is your husband of less than one day.

He notices you fidget; he notices everything about you. The knowing light in Ellaria's eyes telling him that she is aware of his attentions. and it does not matter to her. She approves of his interest in his wife, as fruitless as it may prove to be. The fact that you have not fallen at his feet providing him with a curiosity that he has not had for a long time.

“We should not be late.” It would be most impolite, if nothing else, and you do not know how long you can stand between the two of them with their attention on you. Raeden’s gaze is comfortable and warming – when the prince and Ellaria look at you with such interest it makes you feel as if you might combust fully on the spot. “That would not do well for our first appearance as a party.”

Her hand is careful not to ruin the maid's work with your hair as her hands cup your cheeks. The carriage is at a stop and any moment the door will be opened. Your lips are plush and painted with the loveliest shade of lip color, making Ellaria lean in and kiss you.

The moment lingers, just the sweet pressure of her mouth on yours as your mind races to catch up with what is happening and realize that it is as sweet and gentle a kiss as any you have had before. By the time you remember yourself and reluctantly sit back in the carriage, you have more questions about what has just happened than anything else. "I—" Your eyes flicker between Ellaria and the prince, wondering if the amusement you see in their eyes is imagined or not. "I am not...entirely sure...what I did to earn such a response."

"Beautiful things deserve to be appreciated." Ellaria hums, smirking slightly as she pulls back and scooches towards the carriage door just as she raps on it to signify it is permissible to open it. "And you might be the loveliest of all Oberyn's possessions."

The driver helps Ellaria out of the carriage while you fluster measurably, avoiding the prince's eyes and knowing smirk by following directly after his paramour. The line of carriages extends in either direction as guests disembark, and empty carriages pull away to wait for their owners to be done with the day's festivities. Raeden stands resplendent in his regalia that marks him a guardian of House Martell and offers you a small but proud smile. The prince steps out behind you, making your party of four complete, and you raise your chin slightly to match Ellaria's easy confidence. It may be unconventional to look to her as an example, but your mind is still reeling from the feeling of her lips against yours and you could use the guidance.

Oberyn saunters, he doesn’t walk up to the pair of gorgeous women. Both of them belonging to him. His sun, his world and his…wife. “Ladies.” He hums. "Are we ready to shock the Seven Kingdoms and make every man here fume in jealousy?"

"A few of the ladies as well, I hope." Ellaria adds, a satisfied smile gracing her beautiful mouth as both of you take Oberyn's arms. Raeden is merely one step behind, ready and at attention.

"With our guard here, of course the women will be jealous." Oberyn knows the weight of his own appeal and wears it easily as your fingers twitch against the crook of his elbow. His own robes are exquisite and in total coordination with yours and Ellaria's gowns and Ser Raeden's uniform.

You had told your soulmate before leaving Flea Bottom that you thought he looked very handsome in his uniform, and the light in his eyes had shone a little bit brighter at your praise. Now he looks proud as a peacock as he walks behind you, and you glance back to offer him a broad grin. "It will certainly be a very interesting day."

There is an easy air of confidence as Oberyn starts his walk towards the large sept. His eyes watchful for the bitter harpy that is your mother even though no one would think that he has a care in the world.

There are eyes on you in such a way that you have never experienced before. People whispering, wondering who you are and why you are on the prince's arm. Everyone knows he brought a lover to King's Landing, but two? Two seems outrageous even for Oberyn Martell. Guided inside, the pews and aisles of the sept are separated by an ocean of guests extending greetings to each other and inspecting each other's wardrobes for the grand event. The voice of Olenna Tyrell seems to be boisterous and cheery in the center of things, and in this moment she is nodding along with the words of a woman whose voice you would recognize across whole continents. Olenna Tyrell is being talked at, at length, by your own mother.

He is aware the moment your mother catches sight of you. Her voice dies mid word, and the sharp inhale of disapproval nearly echoes in the inner chamber of the sept despite the din of conversation behind her. Never one to shy away from a fight, Oberyn guides you towards the two women with a charming and mischievous smile on his face. "Lady Tyrell." He nods his head towards the elder woman while subtly snubbing your mother. "It seems as if the gardens around the seven kingdoms have been emptied of their blooms to provide such lavish arrangements." He compliments. "No doubt your keen eye had a hand in it."

"You've been a flatterer since you were eighteen years old." Olenna Tyrell observes in amusement, the suppressed smile on her face peaked up at the edges in delight. "I'll bow my head, Prince Oberyn, to save my knees from the curtsy. But who are your exquisite guests? Rumours have swirled over who you might bring today."

“On my right, my lovely paramour, Ellaria Sand.” He introduces her to the head of the Tyrell household as if she were a lady in her own right. He says your name as he turns towards you with equal pride. “My own bride, newly gotten.” He looks at you as if you are a precious gemstone, irreplaceable to him.

"Bride?" The Tyrell matriarch's expression morphs into one of wolfish amusement. "My darling I did not even recognize you. Marriage has given you an absolutely radiant glow." She knew of your betrothal, of course, having been the one to encourage her granddaughter to befriend you as a suitable ally. But a swift marriage between a reluctant pair almost always yields an interesting story. "My most heartfelt congratulations."

“Many thanks.” His head finally turns towards your mother. “The Princess Martell, lady.” He keeps his voice steady but there is a clear warning. “Respects are to be extended.”

The fire in your mother's eyes is unmistakable. Of the hundreds of times you have seen it, though, nothing could compare to this. Not only did you and Raeden escape the grasp of her punishments, but you had run so far that you had become untouchable in the process. Drawn up to your full height on the prince's arm, you actually feel every bit as proud as you look in this moment. As proud as you look – your mother's anger and frustration may be more so.

The moment for courtesy passes silently, your mother’s eyes fixed on you and Oberyn feels the tiniest pressure of Ellaria’s hand on the crook of his elbow. A silent plea for him to not cause a scene that will attract the attention of every lord already in the Sept. The charming smile turns pointed, his eyes hardening as he watches her stubbornly refuse to extend his wife the respect her station now demands. It is an insult to you, but also to Dorne. The delicate necklace around your neck is not just a gorgeous gift, it serves a purpose. It is a smaller, lighter copy of the heavy gold chain around his own neck. The signet of House Martell crafted into the costly metal and indicating your place among royalty. His voice drops, tone cold enough to freeze any man currently sitting his ass on the giant ice block that is the Northern Wall. “You will bend your knee or I will bend it for you.” He threatens, eyes glittering with promise.

Your eyes widen, looking to the man beside you with immediate surprise. Demanding not just a modicum of manners from your mother but a complete bending of the knee is not at all what you expected from him, and you must wonder if this is not some play for power or else a rather public admonishment to your mother. There is no need to play for power for a prince, of course, but your hand unconsciously tightens on his arm anyway, as if you are trying to warn him of her rage without words.

Her smile turns so brittle it would crack underneath the smallest breeze and he can hear the fury in her words, sweet as she might have intended them, the venom pulses underneath. “My lord, this my daughter.” Her tittering laugh is meant to disarm him, but it does nothing.

“Your Grace.” He corrects, one eyebrow arching as he stares her down. “And your daughter is now my princess, the vows recorded in the Citadel.”

Olenna Tyrell watches with fascination, aware that Oberyn had waved away her own need to bend her knee, making a special point to not accept any other form of niceties. It is intriguing and she wonders what Margery had managed to learn during your walk through the gardens. You and your prince will be allies in coming days.

Your mother – the woman who has threatened your life more than any other creature in the world – is nervously realizing that she is being watched as eyes begin to turn toward your small group on the sept floor. Olenna Tyrell looks positively tickled but your own mother could spit fire until a voice from a few yards away breaks through the crowd.

“My darling girl!” Your father turns from his conversation with Lord Tyrion and in no less than a moment is at your side to embrace you. “We did not know where you’d gone,” he murmurs in your ear, the relief in his voice obvious. “Your mother said you ran away to spite us but I knew you would never do that.”

“No, Papa.” With your voice barely above a whisper, you hug your father back with one arm and wonder just how many armies of lies your mother has told him throughout the years. More than you can fathom, probably. “I will explain it all to you later, but the prince and I said our vows yesterday at the Citadel.”

“Truly?” He looks so proud that it almost breaks your heart, and there is a small rippling gasp from the crowd as your own Lord Father bends the knee without any prompting whatsoever. “Then you are truly now my princess,” he tells you with a watery smile. “Although you have long been that in my heart.”

Oberyn watches the fury etched on your mother’s face contort as she realizes that she has no choice to follow suit or call attention to her rebellion. When your mother finally dips down, it’s the barest inch as she nearly growls. Your father, jovial imbecile that he is, doesn’t even notice. His focus is on his daughter and the prince cannot help but wonder how such a pairing exists together without bloodshed. They seem to be such polar opposites. “Forgive the haste.” Oberyn takes your hand and kisses it sensuously. “After our meeting, there was no need to wait until we returned to Dorne to make this gorgeous creature my princess.”

“It is a relief to see such happiness in the match,” your father is beaming, nearly on the verge of joyful tears, and he looks past you only for the briefest moment to nod to Raeden behind you. “Ser Stone will serve your family well, your Grace. As he has served ours. We wish you every happiness and many children in the years to come.”

Your lover’s safety is assured. Oberyn realizes your mother had never taken her accusations to the lord, making it an ill-timed bluff on her part. He nods, his dark eyes fixed on your mother. “The safety of those under my protection is something that I take very seriously.” He replies, sending her a clear warning.

Your mother swallows heavily, looking between you and your new husband as she realizes she has made a calculated error. The tales of the prince’s promiscuity and prowess as a warrior had led her to believe that he would treat you as breeding stock. Like the way a northern man would – disregarding your opinions and teaching you submissions. The Prince of Dorne, against everything she had hoped before meeting him yesterday – seems actually to like you.

“Oberyn has been most attentive and kind.” It is the first time you have ever called him by his given name and it warms through you expectedly.

“It is easy when your kindness and grace is a trait that is a credit to your house.” Obviously not from your mother but the compliment from the prince makes your father beam with pride. “She will be most welcomed in Dorne.”

Your father finds his feet again and embraces you, and for a moment it seems as though everyone present has entirely forgotten your mother, who must push to her feet in her own. Lady Olenna Tyrell and Lord Tyrion are nearby observing everything, and your father regards you fondly, with a raised eyebrow. “Finding married life not so disagreeable now, your Grace?”

The fact that your father believes that you are happily wed makes Oberyn believe that while he might love you as a daughter, he does not know you. Ellaria stands off to the side and he turns to exchange a meaningfully amused look since he is well aware of his own daughters’ desires, even the younger ones.

“I could hardly think of anything as comforting as the care I have received since marrying.” As careful as your wording is, it is also very true. The prince has been nothing but kind and understanding, even sweet, since you came to him for help. Ellaria’s own attention to you has been only welcoming. And Raeden? Raeden has been the magnificent man that you have always known him to be. If you could not wed your soulmate, this is hardly a worst-case substitute.

“Good.” Your father is extremely pleased, especially since that means good relations with Dorne. It will prove very profitable to your former house.

“We should sit.” People are beginning to rustle around you, finding seats and turning their attention to the wedding at hand instead of the one no one was invited to. “We will have time to speak more later.”

“That we will, pumpkin.” Your father nods respectfully to you and Oberyn, frowning slightly when he sees the man’s paramour but he doesn’t speak on it since you seem undisturbed by her presence.

“Yes, I think we will indeed,” you mother murmurs unhappily, and you can’t quite tell if she’s going to have opinions for your father or for you. One thing is certain either way, Prince Oberyn won’t be hearing a single word of it.

“Come, my loves.” Oberyn offers both of his arms to you and Ellaria. “The Sept and the wedding of the king awaits us.”

It is for show. You must remember that. And yet the moment the word passes his lips it pierces something in you that you had not expected. It might be hope, or affection, or simply gratitude, but when you take his arm to walk together there is a moment where you could almost swear he means it. And that is not something you had ever even considered possible until this very moment.

Oberyn does not enter anywhere without causing a stir. Especially when he comes with not one, but two beautiful women on his arms. He smirks as he nods towards another noble that he has seen at the brothel over the past few days. Now sitting next to his wife.

People gawk when the prince is near. That is something you will have to adjust to in time. For now you are simply grateful when he situates you and Ellaria between himself and Raeden in the vast pews of the Citadel to bear witness to the Union of King Joffrey and Lady Margaery.

Oberyn allows you to sit beside your lover, his own body pressed against Ellaria’s, although he drapes his arm over the back of the bench so he can trail his fingers over the skin of your shoulder. Making sure people see him touch you. As if you are his wife in every sense of the word.

The painfully tedious ceremony holds no joy or wonderment for you. The couple at the altar do not seem happy to be standing with each other – more that they are playacting at it. The words seem insincere and the vows rehearsed, and it throws into sharp relief how different a turn yesterday had taken in your own marriage. That would have been you, three or four weeks from now standing beside the prince with dread in your mouth. Instead he had saved you without hesitation. Your marriage of necessity already holds far more affection than this match in front of you. Even if he is only touching you for show, the simple fact that you do not shrink from the prince’s touch speaks volumes.

Oberyn is well aware of the affect that touching can have on a person. He feels the slight shiver and goosebumps pop up on your skin. While no one should be paying attention, any that are would think that you are anticipating a more intimate touch later. He leans over to kiss his paramour’s shoulder when Joffrey speaks.

The king may as well be speaking gibberish for all the attention you are paying, too distracted by the ghost of a touch across your shoulder to register the words echoing over the assembled spectators. If you were in private you might have closed your eyes against the feeling but as it is you are left to wonder how something so simple is able to make you feel so much. It would be downright embarrassing if anyone could see the way your body is responding – and the thin sheen of shame at being aroused to the point of dampness between your legs from anyone other than Raeden is very real.

Raeden knows the prince is touching you, he can feel your body stiffen beside his. Confusion swirling in his gut because he’s jealous. Not only because he can touch you whenever he wants, but because the guard wants Oberyn to touch him.

Ellaria, for her part, seems amused by being in the middle of you and Oberyn's lightly flirtatious touch. Having been on the receiving end of so many of his touches before she does not feel jealous to know he is touching someone else that way, but is very much interested to know how you will feel in response. From the way you are watching the altar very deliberately with faraway eyes, she would have to say you are enjoying it – perhaps very much.

Finally the vows are exchanged and Oberyn grimaces when the kiss happens. Leaning in and whispering loud enough that you and his lover can both hear. “I think that there will be some wine hastily swallowed after that kiss.”

You know you should not react, but the way your cheeks tighten barely smothers a smirk. The fact that you did not have to suffer through a ceremony as painful as this one seems a mercy now.

“Lover.” Ellaria chides, although her tone is vastly amused. “They are young still.”

Oberyn snorts and shakes his head. “I had already sired Obara by that age. Killled a man in my first duel.”

The whole of the sept are rising to their feet to applaud the happy couple, and when you stand you throw an amused smile at Ellaria with the soft memory of her kiss in the carriage on your lips. "At their age I had not even been kissed," you admit under your breath.

“That is a shame.” She pouts, shaking her head. “You should be kissed often. Everywhere.”

If the gentleman in front of you heard her he does not show it, but you look away briefly as the sept goes up in applause and cheers as the people of Westeros celebrate their new queen and her marriage to the king. "Perhaps," you murmur under your breath, not knowing what else to say.

“Come.” Oberyn slides out of the bench and reaches for both of you. “There will be wine and food. Perhaps we shall find some entertainment as well.”

"Dancing, lover?" Ellaria hums as she casts a look back at Raeden. "I believe your bride and I should both like to dance."

“Then we will dance.” He smirks and leans into you. “Ellaria is a very seductive dancer, my love.” He confides playfully.

It is only for show, you remind yourself again when that word warms through you like fire. "Raeden is a wonderful dancer as well." Is what you say instead, offering up the morsel of information to be shared within your small group. The times you had danced together in secret were wonderful, romantic moments.

“Then you and my paramour must take turns with Ser Raeden.” Oberyn knows that it will be far less suspicious if he dances with both women, as if the prince had ordered it. It would allow you to have a moment with your soulmate, being open without it being common knowledge.

"We will all enjoy the festivities to their utmost, your Grace." Raeden's voice is low but warm, full of gratitude at being able to be a part of the moment instead of simply standing by and observing. It is not easy to forever feel like an ornament.

“Make sure you eat too.” Oberyn glances over at him with a grin. “Ellaria will wear a man out if he does not eat before tangling with her.”

"I will, your Grace." The invitation could even be considered an order, but Ellaria winks over her shoulder at him and Raeden actually smiles. To be treated well – as though he is wanted by people other than you – is a welcome feeling.

As the four of you make your way to the gardens, Oberyn swaggers, aware that many have their eyes on the unusual pairing, and he hums happily. “I think the queen mother will not be happy that the attention is taken off her bastard son.”

"I only hope Queen Margaery is not upset." She had been so kind to you, after all. You would hate to sour her wedding day.

“I doubt she will be.” Oberyn doesn’t believe the girl is stupid enough to believe that the day is supposed to be truly happy. Not with Olenna Tyrell as her grandmother. He looks around and spots her brother Loras. Smirking when the third son of Mace Tyrell catches his eye.

"Do you know that gentleman?" The curly-haired blonde looks familiar but you cannot place him, thinking only that you must have seen him in the halls of the Keep during the few days that you were there. The fact that he is looking rather lustfully at the man you are recently married to does not truly factor into anything. In fact, you understand it fully.

“Hmmmm.” Oberyn guides you to a table to sit down, plopping into a seat beside you as Ellaria sits on his other side. “Loras Tyrell.” He informs you. “Our queen’s brother and the Knight of Flowers.” He hums in amusement. He sends the man a small, sly wink.

"I do not think I am familiar with that title." There are pitchers of wine and goblets on every table even before the feast has begun, and bowls of fruit and nuts scattered around the gardens for guests to indulge in with their first glasses of wine. Even after only knowing the prince for a day, you know for certain that he will focus on those bowls of treats over any other food.

Ellaria leans over Oberyn and pops a berry into her lover’s mouth as he continues to make eyes at the other man. “He is also known as the knight of pansies.” She tells you with a smirk. “It is said that half the women in the seven kingdoms want to bed him, but….” She moans quietly when Oberyn sucks on her finger. “His interest lay elsewhere, preferring a cock over a cunt.”

"Oh." Your eyes widen for a moment before you can school your expression into something much more neutral, and you almost imagine feeling Raeden stiffen on your other side. "I see." So many other people in world seem so comfortable with that attraction – the pull between two men or two women – but you were raised differently. Making your own moments of attraction to other women all the more confusing and never to be spoken of.

“Do not tell me you disapprove?” Ellaria asks, hearing the censure in your voice. If you cannot accept Oberyn’s tastes, then your marriage will be a cold one.

"No." It is out of your mouth so fast that the word is almost too loud, which surely would have gotten your group even more attention. "N—no. It is only..." It is that you are jealous, you realize with a moment of regret, and you look down at your hands in your lap instead of at any of them. "It is only that we are not so free with such things in the Vale," you explain quietly. "It is an adjustment."

“It is not free in the majority of the seven kingdoms.” Oberyn reaches for a wine goblet and takes a swallow. “I just do not care what people think of me.”

"Perhaps that is a virtue, your Grace." If you could simply disappear in order to escape, you would do it happily. This moment has made you far too aware of things that you had been trying to tamp down and your discomfort is rising measurably.

“Lover, you are embarrassing your bride.” Ellaria tilts her head slightly as she looks over at you.

"Upsetting." Raeden corrects softly, knowing the look on your face as intimately as any lover possibly could. He cannot comfort you in public, but he can certainly alert those who can to how you are truly feeling. What he does not know is why you are upset. Unless the idea of two men indulging in each other is that dismaying for you after all.

That makes Oberyn look away from his potential conquest to look over at you. “Why is my princess upset?” He demands softly, reaching out and caressing your cheek.

"Please..." If they ask then you will be bound to say, and that could be more embarrassing for you than upsetting. Or perhaps it would be damaging altogether, you cannot tell. All you know is that someone is bound to be hurt by it and you do not wish to hurt anyone at all. "Please, do not fuss. I am simply not feeling myself."

Oberyn is not a man who listens, especially not when he can see now there is something bothering you. You might not be his lover, but you are his wife, under his care. And like everyone under his care, he listens. Turning to Ellaria, a silent conversation passes with a look and flirtations with Loras are put on hold as he stands and draws you to your feet. “Come with me.”

There is nothing you can do but obey, and not only because he is your husband. There are eyes on you from every direction and you refuse to cause a scene. So you are left to simply nod, letting him take your hand and lead you from the table as guests continue to arrive and mill about, greeting each other before the king and his new queen arrive to their own banquet.

He knows that some will think that he is stealing his wife away for an intimate moment, and he might have if circumstances had been different. As it is, he guides you towards a deserted part of the gardens before he stops. “Princess?”

"I am still not used to being called that." And you cannot bring yourself to meet his eyes, either, looking down at your hands and skirts to avoid it entirely. "And I apologize if I have upset you at all."

“I am not upset.” He captures your chin and tilts it up, watching you with serious eyes. “However, you are.”

"I am..." His eyes are warm despite their seriousness, and you are reminded that he has been a father almost as long as you have been alive. It makes you wonder if he is treating you like he might treat one of his daughters – which is a terrible thought for entirely separate reasons. “I am.” You admit softly, and your eyes close to avoid looking at him again. "But only with myself."

“Why are you upset with yourself?” He frowns slightly and looks back towards the garden where the clapping had started. Obviously the king and queen had shown up. “Does the idea of those things disgust you?” He had not gotten that feeling before, but maybe he had been wrong.

"Those things?" It takes a moment for your mind to catch up again, but you shake your head. It feels like you are swimming when you do, a very disorienting feeling to begin with and now it makes you feel like you are drowning. "You mean...no. No, it does not...love is not disgusting. That is not..." You sigh out a long, deep breath and wish to all seven gods that you had been able to simply keep your composure at that table. Or that Raeden had not ratted you out to your new husband. "My first experiences with intimacy were with a woman. It is not that I am disgusted at all."

He is stunned into silence for a moment before he slowly starts to smirk. “Princess.” He picks up your hand and kisses the back of your hand and squeezes it gently. “There is no judgement here.” He promises. “If you wish to resume those experiences, you are most welcome to. As long as your Raeden does not object.” He longs to ask what kind of intimacies you have experienced but you look like you are about to expire. “If Ellaria is not your choice, there are dozens of clean, gorgeous whores to choose room when we return tonight.”

"Ellaria is remarkable. Anyone she even looks at twice should be honored." The last thing you would ever want is for either of them to believe that you were not grateful for their help and appreciative of their attention. Having the prince and his paramour turn their attention on you for even a moment is like being bathed in summer sun. "I simply..." Although there is nothing simple about it. "Never met anyone before who ever seemed to be able to make the difficulties of caring for more than one person seem possible. And it is...more difficult to understand than I would like to admit." It breaks the very foundation of what you thought was true about love and attraction, and so it is causing you more discomfort to think about than you are willing to admit. "Forgive me if that is a disappointment."

“The only disappointment will be if you do not live how you wish to.” Oberyn assures you, starting to understand your dilemma a bit better. “Men can have their wives, their lovers, and whores while no one would think it odd. A woman is held to a different standard because men want things their way. They wish to never believe they might not satisfy the wife or there is no need for another lover beyond his visits to her bed.” He shakes his head and scoffs. “They are fools.”

"Before very recently, I thought I knew well what life I wanted." It was one you never thought that you would be able to live, but you were convinced that it would have been what made you happy. To be Raeden's wife in a small village somewhere in the unknown world would have been wonderful. To birth and raise his children, to work for his happiness would have made your own. That unattainable dream is now even further away and you find yourself wondering now if happiness might actually be attainable with the life you have been handed. Or if Raeden would despise you for being glad to have Prince Oberyn and his paramour in your life.

“If you wish, I will send you to a small estate.” Oberyn frowns, not liking the idea much. “You and your Raeden. A place without servants or pretense.” He really doesn’t care for the idea, but you don’t seem to know what you want.

"But then I would not see you." Your response is immediate, shaken slightly, and your eyes dart up to his with surprising speed.

He relaxes slightly and nods. “Then you will figure out what makes you happy and enjoy it to the fullest.” He predicts with a soft smile.

"I can only hope that it does not take too long to understand myself." Although, you have an immense fear that it will. Apparently you have been lying to yourself just as you have lied to others. Just about different things.

“It takes however long it takes.” He pats your hand. “Did you enjoy your night with your soulmate?”

"It was a relief to not be afraid," you tell him quietly. Being patted makes you feel like a child, and once again you wonder if he thinks of you with the same regard as any other young girl his daughters' age. "I hope you enjoyed your night as well?"

“There is much pleasure to be had within the walls of that brothel.” He hums happily. “Cal very eagerly bounced on my cock while Ellaria sat on my tongue and licked her pretty little redhead’s cunt.” He chuckles, “I am hoping tonight to find out how talented the Tyrell boy’s ass milks a cock.”

"And that much physical pleasure does nothing to diminish your love for Ellaria?" It is the bare minimum that you can do for him, in the way he has done so much for you, to try to understand him. The way he indulges his lust seems to be a fundamental need for him, so as much as it is new for you, you will do what you can to become more comfortable with it.

“Never.” Oberyn shakes his head. “Everyone would have to stand in line behind her.” He smiles and gives a very dreamy look. “It actually makes our own love sweeter. Her pleasure is my pleasure and she feels the same.”

"The way you love her is admirable." On your best days, you hope that you love Raeden half as well. It is only that the wish in the back of your mind for love and happiness is beginning to include him, and that is startling to you.

“Despite the fact that we share scars, I choose her.” He explains. “Every day we choose each other.”

"That makes you both very lucky. To be able to choose each other without fear." Your hands are still in his and they flex gently in his grip. Despite being married to this man under the eyes on the gods, you feel irrevocably shy in his presence.

“You can choose your soulmate, Princess.” He reminds you quietly. “Now, we must return and pretend that we were fucking.”

"I do choose him." A wave of boldness rises up from your toes that you do not understand or truly even want to comprehend, but it is there anyway. "I did not know before now that I could choose more than one person." His hands are firm in yours and before you can stop yourself, you are pulling him back to you and pressing your lips to his in earnest, only hoping that he does not consider you foolish for acting impulsively.

Oberyn had promised you that he would never take what you did not offer and he had meant it. However, you have initiated this kiss and as much as it shocks him, he reacts. One hand cups the back of your head and the other wraps around your back so he can guide you towards the nearest tree as his tongue pushes past your lips and he kisses you with a hunger that surprises even him.

The fire of the moment leaves you breathless, shaken to your core just the same way you were the first time you kissed Raeden. There is passion and need there, to such a degree that you cling to him as he cages you between his body and the nearest tree, letting him map every inch of your mouth as you eagerly do the same with him.

It is a change of heart from yesterday but he won’t question it. Not when you are pressing yourself against him and gripping his robes as if you are afraid that he would pull away. Making him groan quietly as his tongue strokes yours eagerly.

It is only the need to breathe that makes you pull away from him, and even then you feel your head spin. “I—” You do not need to apologize for kissing your husband, but still it feels like an intrusion. Like you ought to have asked, or spoken to Ellaria first. Spoken to Raeden first. But it was done in the heat of the moment. “I do not yet know exactly what I want,” you admit, your heart racing. “But I wish for you to be included in it. Somehow.”

“Then I will fit into whatever slot you determine.” He is panting slightly and he cannot deny that his cock has hardened under his robes. You are disheveled and that will play into the rumor that he fucked you in the gardens nicely.

“We should return.” Your body is on fire the way only one other person has ever managed in your life, and you have to consciously make the decision to let go of his robes and step back so you don’t do anything inappropriate.

“We should.” Oberyn wants to kiss you again, but the moment has passed. Offering you his arm again as Cersei comes into view. He huffs quietly and stares.

The flustered expression on your face coupled with the Dornish prince looking like the cat who got the cream makes Cersei rankle, but she says nothing as the pair of you glide past her. Another slut for Oberyn's harem, she thinks with a roll of her eyes.

“That will be a burr in her cunt for days.” He predicts quietly with a smirk.

"Surely she knows your reputation." You murmur, looking back at him. "It should not surprise her."

“One would think.” Oberyn hums, knowing it is only a matter of time before Cersei lowers herself to actually approach him with her real problem, her daughter. She has never been happy that Myrcella had been sent to Dorne, betrothed to his nephew. “She is not to be trusted.” He advises you quietly. “The Lannisters lie.”

“I do not believe a Lannister has ever spoken me to before our meeting yesterday.” You breathe as he ushers you quickly through the gardens.

“Count yourself fortunate.” Oberyn sneers. “Even more so if you do not have to converse with another until the day their house lays in ruin.”

“Do not let her presence sour your mood, my lord.” Until catching sight of the Dowager, he had seemed to be in a relatively good humor, and you are still very much buzzing from kissing him. The last thing you want is for that good feeling to be overshadowed.

He relaxes slightly, aware he was letting his personal animosity for the Lannisters get to him. “You are right.” He looks over at you with amusement. “Is it all women, or those that I am around?”

“I am not sure I understand?” Perhaps you might know what he is asking you if your mind were not so hazy, but with your hand wrapped around his arm as you walk, there is no escaping it.

“The women around me seem to always be right.” He jokes, sending you a small wink when your frown of confusion seems to make him want to kiss you again. While you might have kissed him a moment ago, he doesn’t believe that you have given him permission to reciprocate whenever he wished.

“Ellaria is very clever.” Something which you do not know if you can claim for yourself, but you certainly can praise her from sunrise to sunset.

“As is the woman who is my princess.” He hums, patting your hand. “Clever and brave.” He praises. “You decided that your lover’s life was worth everything when another would have never been brave enough to venture through the city or come to a man you had no interest in marrying.”

“You were my only hope.” There is no shame in admitting that, especially because he had proven to be so much more than just understanding. He has so much kindness to share. “And I am very grateful to you for your mercy. Not everyone would have opened their arms to their betrothed’s soulmate the way you did.”

“It would have been a shame to have such a man put to death for a lie.” He does not think he did much. “Nor would you have been happy if he had.”

“Yes,” you agree with a nod. “But do you realize how few would have taken either my happiness or the lie into account?”

“All but those few are fools.” He tells you with a shrug. “Liars will continue to lie and happiness in your home is the greatest treasure a man can possess.”

“And you are a good man, which I am grateful for.” When Raeden and Ellaria are in sight again, you can see plainly that they have been having their own intimate discussion and though you expect to feel nerves or jealousy, it is relief that washes over you.

“There are some who would not agree with you.” Oberyn sees that Raeden has shifted closer to Ellaria, his protective nature apparently extending towards your husband’s paramour. It is warming to see.

“Then perhaps it is that you are a good husband?” When he pauses in his step you offer him a shy smile. “And for that I am grateful as well.”

Retuning to the feast, Oberyn sets you down and nods towards your lover, assuring him that you are not upset any longer. Another, longer conversation would be needed, but it could wait for another time.

Ellaria tucks herself into Oberyn’s side easily when he sits again, and there is mischief in her eyes but the first thing she does is lean into him. “All is well?”

“Of course.” Oberyn leans in and brushes his nose against hers. “My wife feels guilty that your kiss is not the first she has ever shared with a woman.”

“No?” This seems to delight Ellaria, or at least it is unexpected enough that her eyes light up. “But that is not a reason for guilt. I do not desire to claim her innocence.”

“I think she does believe that to want another means that she does not love her Raeden enough.” Oberyn ventures quietly.

“Or is she afraid that he will think so?” Ellaria frowns, tutting softly. “I hope neither does. For their sake. Love should not include fear.”

“We know that.” His hand links with hers and he brings them up to kiss hers softly. “But we have been free to love for longer than they have.”

“I am fine,” you assure Raeden quickly after sitting down again, touching your hand to his leg ever so briefly under the table where it cannot be seen. “I was overwhelmed, but I am better. Did you…have a conversation with Ellaria? While we were gone?” The urgency of the question in your mind makes you wonder if you hope they did more than speak, but that is too vast of a thought to conquer right now.

“I did.” Raeden nods, sure that he hears hope in your voice and wonders about it. Something has shifted slightly, as if the bath this morning changed things and he is not sure how to align himself.

"And...all is well?" There is no reason it should not be, but the sudden guilt you feel at having enjoyed kissing the prince so thoroughly floods you and makes you reach for your wine.

"It...is." Raeden does not tell you what Ellaria said, you are aware of her interest in him, you have spoken on it. However, he wonders if you are really aware of her interest in you.

"You are upset." The weight on your shoulders presses down on you, chastising you for daring to enjoy the prince's attention while leaving your soulmate to be upset by someone else. " I—I should not have...have left you. Forgive me."

"I am not upset." Confused, confounded and wholly unsure of himself – but he is not upset. Especially considering that you are wearing a slightly dreamy expression on your face. One that reminds him of the look that you carried when the two of you were early in the days of your secret romance.

"If that is what you say then I believe you." After all, he has never lied to you. Or made you believe that he was hiding something. It is only you who are hiding things from him. At this very moment. The fear of what he would think if he knew you were feeling attraction for the man you married is deep and terrifying.

He is very aware of the fact that you do not sound completely convinced. And yet he finds himself nodding as he looks towards you again and then around the feast to make sure that no one is watching. "All is well." He promises, reaching down and stroking your thigh gently under the table.

"You are smiling, lover." Ellaria leans into Oberyn's side, her voice quiet and a berry between her fingers already destined for his lips. She has a feeling that whatever passed between you and the prince, it was more lighthearted than what was spoken between her and Raeden.

"She kissed me." Oberyn reveals quietly, accepting the berry eagerly and turning to watch his lover's reaction to that little bit of news.

Her eyebrow raises in interest, and Ellaria tucks her smirk into the corner of her mouth. "More than a polite peck? Otherwise you would not look so pleased with yourself."

"Much different from the shallow kiss we exchanged at the Citadel." He hums, finding it to be a small victory. The woman he had married yesterday had no intentions of ever kissing him again, by all accounts.

"So your idea to invade their bath this morning turned out the way you wished?" It had not been a malicious act, or even a manipulative one, but it had been Oberyn's intention to attempt to knock down the walls between the four of them this morning. Or at least to begin to fracture the strength of those walls.

"Perhaps." He won't say that you are willing to jump into bed with him, but the idea of more is certainly there. "How was your conversation with our Ser Raeden?"

"He is, I think, a harder nut to crack." Which is disappointing, but not exactly surprising. She reaches for his wine to put the goblet in Oberyn's hand. "As you say, we have been free to love for longer than they have. It is harder to admit one's wants when you have not been allowed to even think of those things in your own mind."

"They are both very repressed creatures." Oberyn sighs softly.

"It is not their fault." She tuts softly, feeling sympathy rather than pity. "Your princess is already making strides."

"Yes she is." He looks over at you and watches as you Raeden talk quietly between yourselves. "Perhaps Ser Loras would enjoy our company this evening?" He asks, shifting his gaze back across the garden towards the other man.

Taking that to mean that you have not made much progress, Ellaria simply nods and leans in to brush a kiss or two along her soulmate’s jaw. “A delectable choice. You will fit perfectly between us, or else I will enjoy my evening quite thoroughly with Cal and Leyth.”

The music starts quietly as the minstrels begin to play. Filling the courtyard with the sweet strands of joy and light. Oberyn looks over at his lover and leans in, pressing a firm kiss to her lips. "Whatever we do, it will be together, my sun."

The crowd applauds dutifully to see the newly married couple dance together, the steps long practiced and rehearsed. The queen is resplendent and joyful, laughing as she moves with elegance, and soon enough others are standing to join the festivities.

Oberyn leans over again, making sure that he keeps his voice loud enough for any nearby to hear. "Ser Raeden, would you take my wife to dance?" He asks, standing and holding out his hand for Ellaria to take. "I would wish for her to enjoy all the festivities this wedding has to offer."

“It would be my honor.” Standing to offer you his hand for the very first time under the public eye as though you had not danced dozens of times in the woods or your chambers, Raeden bows his head respectfully and keeps his smile soft when you take his hand. Most people here have no idea who you are – who Raeden is – but can follow the pattern of two guests in House Martell’s colors getting up to dance together. For the other Dornish nobles that surround you? They simply could not care less who you dance with. There have been polite nods and smiles but nothing more quite yet. For now, your only focus is not stepping on Raeden’s toes in the dance.

Oberyn and Ellaria move fluidly with one another. Years together has allowed them to move with a grace that compliments one another both in bed and when dancing. Sweeping out onto the area that is designated as the dance floor, Oberyn pulls his paramour into his arms and holds her close as he looks towards you and Raeden. If he weren't attracted to both you and the other man, some would say that his bemused smile might seem fatherly as he watches you dance with approval on his face.

“No one can stop us, love,” you whisper quietly, trying to soothe Raeden into relaxing a little in the hold he has on you. Not that you don’t appreciate his strength, but you can tell it comes from nerves. “We could dance until sunup if we liked.”

It's surreal that your mother could not interfere with your dance. Almost as if he is in a dream that is not quite perfection but close enough. His eyes slide over to your husband and he hums. "Unless the prince would not like it." He reminds you.

“He specifically asked you to dance with me.” The music is familiar and wistful, and you turn easily in Raeden’s arms. “There is no reason for him to object.”

"True." He murmurs quietly, pulling you closer and swallowing. "I wish I could kiss you now." He admits, just loud enough for you to hear. "That this was our wedding dance."

“We can pretend,” you murmur back, wishing the same in the depths of your heart. The voice in your mind that reminds you that you are wed – spoken for by a good and clever man – gives you only the smallest measure of guilt. It occurs to you in a wave of confusion that you wish you could have married them both. But that is truly impossible.

"It should be your wedding dance with the prince." He reminds you, not quite as bitter as the comment might have been if he had not experienced how generous the man could be.

“Why can I not dance with both of you?” Well aware of the question that you are not brave enough to ask, this is the best and closest you will probably ever come. And perhaps that is for the best.

"You can." Raeden's hand on your back flexes slightly, the thin material giving him a tantalizing closeness to your flesh that your normal gowns would never permit. "I would never deny you anything you wished, my love."

“You would not feel slighted? Or that I wanted to dance with you any less?” It feels unbelievable that he might actually understand your true meaning, but you have to ask. It feels as if you might burst if you do not.

Raeden pulls back, his dark eyes boring into yours for a long moment, interpreting the question with the same fears and desires that have been plaguing him since meeting both Ellaria and the prince. "Do you want to dance with them?" He is not misspeaking, he is including Ellaria into the question as well on purpose. "I— I would not feel slighted. It does not change my love of dancing with you."

“Do you want to dance with them?” A gasp catches in your throat, shock and that sheen of hope fluttering over you once more.

"Do not ask me that." Raeden begs you, biting his lip and looking across the dance floor. Unable to meet your eyes with the shame of his desires. You would not understand, not really. The things he wants are...unreachable. "You might not accept the answer."

“Do you really think so little of me?” You are not angry, only hurt that you are asking him if he wants the very same thing you want and he thinks that you would deny him. That you would think less of him. The man you love with your deepest heart, and he doubts you. “I would give you anything.”

"I think..." Raeden inhales roughly and meets your eyes. "That we know very little about lust and love." He confesses quietly as the dance comes to an end.

It is not the honesty of his answer that stings, but that he is so correct. That in your excitement and anticipation you had forgotten that there could be a difference at all. It does not matter much now, as you bow to each other in the changing of the music. He is already stepping away from you.

Oberyn appears next to Raeden, his hand on the guard’s back. "Ser Raeden, will you dance with Ellaria while I take the next dance with my wife?" He asks quietly, not sure why you both suddenly look so unhappy.

“As your Grace commands.” Raeden steps away from you fully and bows his head to the prince before moving to Ellaria’s side, leaving you and your husband alone on the vast dance floor.

"I had believed that you would be happy with a dance with your lover." Oberyn reaches for you as the music starts again. Pulling you into his arms and looking over to find Raeden doing the same with Ellaria. "Yet unhappiness clouds your pretty eyes."

“He is keeping something from me and I do not understand why.” Despite the matter of a day being all you have known the prince for, you have found yourself being fully honest with him this afternoon. Something which is more comforting than you might have guessed. “I fear I may have pressed him too far.”

"It is hard for a man to admit weakness to anyone, especially the woman he loves." Oberyn hums quietly, wanting to reassure you. "Especially if it is something that he is afraid of how it would be received."

“There is nothing he could tell me that would make me think less of him.” The prince’s presence is steadying, keeping you upright and grounded even when you feel near tears. “I do not understand what could be so terrible. Unless he intended to step back from me entirely, but even that…it would break my heart but it would not cause me to hate him. He would surely have a reason.”

"Your soulmate's bond with you is not one that is going to suffer." Of that, he can be certain. He moves around the floor with you effortlessly and bends you down when the dance calls for it before he pulls you back up. "I acknowledged unusualness when I was very young, my family did not rebuke me." He murmurs quietly. "No one dares to speak ill of it to my face because of my family name. Your Raeden has not had that luxury."

“There is nothing so unusual that it would make me love him less.” Not fully understanding what is being said, you do still know that for sure.

Oberyn hums, deciding that he will not push the issue, looking over at Ellaria draped over your soulmate and he smiles. She is very attracted to Raeden and the poor man is having a hard time hiding his own attraction to Oberyn's paramour.

“I have said too much and made you uncomfortable as well.” Your eyes drop from his face and you nod solemnly. “Forgive me.”

"You have not made me uncomfortable." He promises, his arms tightening around you. "I am aware you are not fully aware of what I am speaking of, and I hesitate to discuss it with you when it should be your lover."

“My brother says I apologize too much.” You offer, hoping it gives him some insight into who it is he had married. “Though if he knows the reason why, he has never said.”

"Because of your bitch of a mother?" Oberyn hazards a guess, his eyes finding the harpy watching unhappily from her seat in a relatively obscure area.

"Most likely." You blow out a sigh in that unladylike way that would normally get you reprimanded. "She is kinder to my brothers, though. It seems only to be me that she despises."

"Obara's mother was jealous of her." Oberyn hums. "Hated that I wanted her. Wanted to take her away from the hovel that she kept her in. Tried to prevent me from taking my blood, tried to convince me that she wasn't mine."

Grimacing slightly, you shut your eyes briefly and try not to look terribly upset, since there are eyes on you. "My mother has told me more than once that she wishes she had drowned or dashed me at birth. It is not easy to be told such a thing."

"Bitch." He hisses, eyes narrowing in anger at the abuse you had been dealt. "I am glad that she did not get her way." He promises you quietly. "The skies would be a much darker place without stars such as you."

"You are kind." At least, he is to you. And you are more certain than ever that you would never want the prince to be upset with you. You suspect it would hurt your heart if he was.

"No I am not." He shakes his head and chuckles. "I am arrogant, quick tempered and selfish." He knows that he is not the paragon of virtue that you are making him out to be. "I will kill a man if he angers me on the wrong day and think nothing of it."

"And yet?" Your eyes find his ever so tentatively. "It was you who I went to when I needed safety. And you who has comforted me when I was upset. So perhaps you are more than either of us says."

"I am safe." It amuses him to find that to be the case because most would believe that Oberyn Martell is not safe. "I do not hold your heart, so I cannot hurt you."

"You hold my life," you remind him gently. "It is in your power to hurt me in extraordinary ways if you wish. But I do not think you will."

"No, I will not." Oberyn assures you. "You are like the moon in the sky, lovely and unobtainable. Shimmering like a diamond that makes me wish to bask in the soft glow you give off."

It no longer surprises you to know that he occasionally writes poetry, although the new feeling is the wish that he would write some for you. "That sounds very lonely, even as beautiful as you make it out to be."

"The moon hangs closest when the waves lap against the rocky shores near Sunspear." Oberyn reaches up and caresses your cheek. "Making me believe that I could reach up and capture it in my palm, holding it with all the wonder it possesses." Your strength and resolve calls to him. Makes his heart stir like he has not felt in a very long time. Like he had imagined was not possible since he had met his paramour. Yet your eyes on his has his heart quickening.

"Oberyn..." His name is barely a breath when it floats from your lips, wide eyes looking at him with that same sense of wonder that he has described. The claim that does not hold your heart at all might be the most ludicrous thing you have ever heard, but that thought is something you have not tangled with enough to articulate.

"My moon and stars." He hums quietly, watching you with a softness that seems to make everything around the two of you fade to the background. He knows that it might be too much too soon, but he feels it. A connection between you that is impossible to describe beyond meant to be.

"I—" Wishing desperately for another surge of bravery like the one you felt in the garden, the presence of so many eyes on you is the only thing stopping you from kissing him again. Being acutely aware of being thought of as the prince's young or eager bride is not as horrible a thought as it might have been to you once, but you still have no wish to embarrass him.

"It is alright." He promises, seeing the conflicting emotions in your eyes and his fingers trail down your neck until they fall away from your skin. "Nothing needs to be said."

The moment of hesitation has lost you the feeling of his closeness – the feeling of deep intimacy between you – and in that moment you could weep for your own foolishness. But the song is ended and the other couples around you exchange their bows, forcing you to do the same. "It is only that I do not know the words," you insist softly.

"When you decide what they should be, they will come to you." He leans over and kisses your hand gently before straightening as Raeden moves back to your side. "Dance with your lover, star." He urges you gently and reaches for Ellaria when she stands within reach. "The day is still young."

******

A day so young and beautiful that no one present could ever fathom that it would end in blood, tears, and screaming fury as King Joffrey lay dead on the dais and Queen Margaery clung desperately to you in her grief and confusion. The terror of watching Lord Tyrion be carried away in irons, the chaos of the despondent on-lookers, the utter uncertainty of the entire situation have cast a pall over King's Landing by nightfall.

______

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Oberyn Martell #Oberyn Martell x reader #Oberyn Martell x you #Oberyn Martell x female reader #Oberyn Martell x f!reader #Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand #reader x m!OC #male OC #female reader #male original character #Game of Thrones #soulmate au #arranged marriage #purple wedding

[highgardenart]

Olenna Tyrell

judgement for @toadpeee tarot collab !

#a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #asoif fanart #asoiaf #fan art #got #digital art #olenna tyrell #cersei lannister #joffery baratheon #purple wedding #valyrian scrolls

[chic-beyond-the-wall-oc-acct]

What Abigail wore to Joffrey and Margaery's wedding

When your first cousin marries your other first cousin vibes & a little excerpt ❤️

Sansa turned away from the spectacle, sickened by what she saw. As the horrendous display of cruelty and violence went on, another sound caught her attention. It was loud in her ears, the tapping of Abigail's clawed ring on the wooden table. She glanced over at Abigail, the previously joyous Lannister's face had turned dark. There was no joy in her expression, it was as if the light had been wiped from her face. Her hard gaze remained fixed on the horrid display as her ring dug into the table. Sansa's nerves were on edge, she felt as though something was about to happen and it wouldn't turn out well, and the longer she looked at Abigail, the more she was sure of it.

I'm sure we can all guess what's happening in this 🤭 also not entirely sure if I trust Abigail with the lip cuff because she'd probably start stress chewing it :/

#purple wedding #abigail lannister #abigail blackfyre #joffrey baratheon #margaery tyrell #game of thrones #got #hotd #got oc #got ocs #hotd oc #game of thrones oc #got fanfiction #a song of ice and fire #got fandom #asoiaf fandom #asoiaf fanfic #asoiaf art #asoiaf fanart #asoiaf #asoif/got #asoif fanart #asoif fanfic #got art #got fic #asoiaf oc #asoiaf oc art #oc artist #oc art #my art

[alemoncakelife]

We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leathery wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window

#I made these edits ages ago and never posted them so have them now #Sansa stark #Joffrey Baratheon #sansastarkedit #purple wedding #game of thrones #gotedit #book quote #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf

[wpmorse]

"It's, kof, the pie, noth—kof, pie." Joff took another drink, or tried to, but all the wine came spewing back out when another spate of coughing doubled him over. His face was turning red. "I, kof, I can't, kof kof kof kof . . ." The chalice slipped from his hand and dark red wine went running across the dais. Tyrion 829

In the middle of the feast, Joffrey starts to choke on something.

While this is something we've all been waiting for, I'm not sure I did it justice. I wanted to make it a shot from Tyrion's point of view but at that moment I wasn't sure where he was sitting.

Besides it would be too similar to the next picture I'm planning.

#asoiaf #a storm of swords #pen and ink #illustration #joffrey baratheon #margaery tyrell #purple wedding

[a-fire-of-ice]

Tyrion found himself thinking of Robb Stark. My own wedding is looking much better in hindsight. 

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #a storm of swords #tyrion lannister #the purple wedding #purple wedding #the red wedding #red wedding #valyrianscrolls

[agentrouka-blog]

In your opinion, do you think Sansa would forgive the Tyrells for their involvement in framing her?

Because on one hand I think it would be in character for her to do so, but on the other hand I don't want her to because they don't deserve it.

I'd say the principal guilty party in framing Sansa is Olenna Tyrell, and I doubt that Sansa would be inclined to forgive her if it became clear to her that Olenna was actively framing her and blithely condemning her to a potential death sentence for regicide.

Sansa is a gentle soul and far too considerate of some of the people who have wronged her, but she is not generally forgiving to a fault. She has absolutely not forgiven the Lannisters as a whole for the role they played in her family's downfall, even if she can have moments of individual kindness like with Lancel. She has not forgiven Lysa for trying to kill her, either. Sansa just "carries on" when there is no particular need to dwell on something.

That said, I don't believe she would hold all of the Tyrells responsible and would not avoid them personally or politically unless they gave her a concrete reason. She would simply be more aware how shallow even the most overt demonstration of friendship can be when coming from a stranger with political ambition.

#sansa stark #house tyrell #anti olenna tyrell #politics in asoiaf #purple wedding #lesson learned

[thaliajoy-blog]

Sansa at Joffrey's wedding feast.

"My skin has turned to porcelain, to ivory, to steel."

#book sansa #sansa stark #asoiaf #amethysts #sansa lannister #house stark #house lannister #joffrey baratheon #purple wedding

[riocat01]

#game of thrones #brienne of tarth #asoiaf #braime #got #jaime lannister #jaime x brienne #brienne and jaime #brienne x jaime #Jaime and Brienne #Tywin Lannister #Cersei Lannister #Jaime x Cersei #king joffrey #purple wedding #Weirwood dream #a song of ice and fire

[alaynasansa]

Sansa prophesying the Purple Wedding and the Lannister/Tyrell conflict

Ser Loras is a Tyrell, Sansa reminded herself. That other knight was only a Toyne. His brothers had no armies, no way to avenge him but with swords. Yet the more she thought about it all, the more she wondered. Joff might restrain himself for a few turns, perhaps as long as a year, but soon or late he will show his claws, and when he does... The realm might have a second Kingslayer, and there would be war inside the city, as the men of the lion and the men of the rose made the gutters run red

Sansa II — A Storm of Swords

#sansa stark #joffrey baratheon #loras tyrell #house lannister #house tyrell #purple wedding #a storm of swords #asos #asoiaf

[mandzipop]

Chapters: 21/? Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark Characters: Jon Snow, Sansa Stark, Arya Stark, Bran Stark, Ned Stark, Catelyn Tully Stark, Robb Stark, Theon Greyjoy, Samwell Tarly, Gilly (A Song of Ice and Fire), Edd Tollett, Benjen Stark, Pyp | Pypar (A Song of Ice and Fire), Grenn (A Song of Ice and Fire), Jeor Mormont, Maester Aemon Targaryen, Grand Maester Pycelle (A Song of Ice and Fire), Tyrion Lannister, Tywin Lannister, Cersei Lannister, Jaime Lannister, Joffrey Baratheon, Shireen Baratheon, Tommen Baratheon, Myrcella Baratheon, Davos Seaworth, Melisandre (A Song of Ice and Fire), Varys (A Song of Ice and Fire), Petyr Baelish, Barristan Selmy, Margaery Tyrell, Olenna Tyrell, Loras Tyrell, Ghost | Jon Snow's Direwolf, Lady | Sansa Stark's Direwolf, Nymeria | Arya Stark's Direwolf, Grey Wind | Robb Stark's Direwolf, Summer | Bran Stark's Direwolf, Shaggydog | Rickon Stark's Direwolf, Rickon Stark, Sandor Clegane, Gregor Clegane, Edmure Tully, Brynden "Blackfish" Tully, Lysa Tully Arryn, Robert "Sweetrobin" Arryn, Yohn Royce, Anya Waynwood, Roose Bolton, Jon "The Greatjon" Umber, Rickard Karstark, Myranda Royce, dragon o/c Additional Tags: jonsa, R Plus L Equals J | Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen are Jon Snow's Parents, Love, War, Character Death, Politics, Betrayal, Smut, orginialcharacterdragon, Direwolves (A Song of Ice and Fire), Dragons, Intrigue, Sexual Assault, Ramsay Snow is his own Warning Series: Part 2 of Daggers to the Heart Summary:

A war is brewing in the south. It is time to face the false golden King, instead of the Night King. To complicate matters, familiar foes return to haunt them.

Daggers to the Heart Pt 1, A Game of Thrones

Daggers to the Heart Pt 2, Clash of Kings

#jon snow #sansa stark #jonsa #jonsa fanfiction #asoiaf #game of thrones #purple wedding

[jaydeewis]

"Joffrey and Margaery joined hands to lift the greatsword and swung it down together in a silvery arc. When the piecrust broke, the doves burst forth in a swirl of white feathers, scattering in every direction, flapping for the windows and the rafters. A roar of delight went up from the benches, and the fiddlers and pipers in the gallery began to play a sprightly tune. Joff took his bride in his arms, and whirled her around merrily. A serving man placed a slice of hot pigeon pie in front of Tyrion and covered it with a spoon of lemon cream. The pigeons were well and truly cooked in this pie, but he found them no more appetizing than the white ones fluttering about the hall. Sansa was not eating either."

#A Song of Ice and Fire #A Storm of Swords #Purple Wedding

[nogoodsheepstealing-greatgrandma]

#asoiaf art #valyrianscrolls art #art reblog #gibilynx #not mine #joffrey lannister #joffrey baratheon #purple wedding

[massiveharmonytiger]

Can’t anyone in Westeros ever get married in peace?! XD

#red wedding #purple wedding #house of the dragon #this damn episode #hotd 1x05 #they really went bury your gays too huh #criston flipping out #poor laenor #daemyra all over each other on the dance floor before her future side piece throws her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes #viserys just dropping dead at the wedding ceremony like an overdramatic daemyra shipper #hotd spoilers #this fucking show #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #also alicent's entrance #i love ramin djawadi so much #light of the seven and we light the way #love it