The Pedro Pascal Files

Sand Snakes // Oberyn Martell

(Oberyn Martell x F!Reader)

Oberyn hummed softly as he moved behind you. His hands started on your shoulders as his lips pressed against the side of your face. They slowly slipped downward, to your forearms and then to the swollen protrusion of your belly. "Are you reading to him?" He purred, observing the book resting on your lap. You smiled softly. "Just a bit." You responded. You turned your head a little, catching him on the lips in a passion fueled kiss. Just then, the annoyed clearing of a throat was heard.

Both of you pulled from the kiss, heads turning toward the doorway to see Ellaria standing there. Her arms were crossed over her chest an a disapproving look flashed across her face. Ellaria was not pleased when Oberyn had come home with you. In all honesty, you had been done just as dirty. Oberyn had woven a classical tale that would've made any woman swoon over him, but now you had wondered if he had only done it to bed you. It had worked and here you sat, five months pregnant with his child. It was difficult to tell what had angered Ellaria so much.

Was it that Oberyn had done this? Or was it because he had brought you home with him? Either way, you found it best to stay away from her as much as possible. Oberyn cleared his own throat, rising from where he had seated himself beside you. He moved across the room towards her. "I haven't seen you all morning and suddenly find you here, with her?" "I was just coming to see if she was alright." He said. "She's fine. She doesn't need you every moment of every day." Ellaria snapped. "Ellaria..." He said. "I need you." She whimpered, placing her hands on the lapels of his robe. If there was one thing Oberyn had a hard time resisting, it was bedding a beautiful woman, especially his wife.

You watched as she pulled him through the doorway. Her soft giggling resounded down the hallway and faded into nothing. You stayed sitting there. Despite the hurt, you understood. Ellaria was his wife, above anything and everything. He didn't belong to you, no matter how wonderful of a tale Oberyn sold you on. You sighed, forgetting the hurtful thoughts and going back to the book. Your hand had replaced his own, rubbing tenderly. "Please be a boy." You whispered softly. Oberyn had tons of girls, but it seemed that the gods had failed to grace him with a boy. He didn't seem to mind.

You didn't see Oberyn for the remainder of the day. It was fine. Like you'd concluded, he wasn't yours.

~~~

The next four months passed so quickly it almost made your head spin. You found yourself laying in bed, holding your breath. A servant was sitting beside you, pressing a cool cloth against your forehead. Your eyes were squeezed together, your face beat red and it was hard to tell if it was from the sun or if it was the stress of the situation. Your legs were bent in a 'V' shape as another servant knelt between them.

Suddenly, the doors flung open to observe the tanned man standing on the other side. He rushed over to where you were, placing himself on the bed and immediately grasping your hand. You were gasping and panting, your chest heaving as your eyes squeezed together and you pushed again. Sweat was lining your forehead as the servant continued to wipe it away. "You're fine. You're doing so good, love." Another push, followed by a choked grunt. You were attempting to swallow all the noises and spare the house of such loud noise.

Before long, Oberyn had his face pressed against your sweaty temples. Words of praise and encouragement poured into your ear as he spoke in mixed languages. One final push and the servant pulled the child from between your legs. Panting even harder now, your hand fell limp from Oberyn's as your head fell back on the pillows. You sighed. "It's a boy." The servant said.

One could've heard the sound of Oberyn's breath getting choked as he seemed to freeze where he was sitting. His eyes wandered over to yours and you offered him a tired smile. "A boy." He repeated. Thank god. Unfortunately, as cruel as it sounded, having a little boy secured your spot in Oberyn's life and would open the doors for even more children. It seemed that to a certain extent, you had taken Ellaria's place.

Word spread through the palace quickly that you had given life to a little boy, the first boy born to Prince Oberyn. Ellaria was relaxing out on the terrace. She felt like things had gone back to normal since her and Oberyn's night filled of passion last night. She wanted more than anything to rub it in your face. But the mood was instantly broken when one of the servants rushed in. "Wonderful news, my lady." She exclaimed, attempting to catch her breath. Ellaria's brow furrowed. "What news?" She asked, rising from the day bed and standing. "Oberyn's mistress has had her baby." The servant said. "And?" Ellaria growled, inching closer. "It's a boy, my lady." The servant said.

Suddenly, realization set in and the servant realized the news that she had just given to her. She swallowed thickly. Ellaria made no moves. "A boy..." She repeated. She turned away from the servant, moving back towards the window. There was nothing she could do. There weren't enough words to voice how angry Ellaria was...at Oberyn. Of all the nasty tricks he could've pulled, he just had to find you on the streets. His seed just had to make a boy...just one boy.

Later that day, you were still sitting in the bed. The sheets had been changed and the child had been cleaned and swaddled up. "Is that for her?" Oberyn asked the servant who was coming down the hall to your room. She nodded. "I'll take it." He said, reaching for the tray. The servant handed the tray over and turned around walking off. A gentle knock landed against your door before it opened.

Oberyn was standing there, holding a beautiful silver tray that had different articles of food on it. "Playing servant now, are we my Prince?" He chuckled softly. "Only for you, my love." He said, coming over after placing the tray down. The child's hand was curled softly against your breast as his mouth was latched perfectly. He had a head of soft black curls and his father's dark olive skin. Oberyn sighed, running his finger over the child's pudgy little cheek. "Is that a look of love in your eyes?" You asked him. "How could it not be?" Oberyn asked, his dark eyes flashing over your face.

You gave a defeated sigh. "What is it?" He asked. "Well, it's just that now the baby has been born...I'm sure you'll be wanting me to leave. I know Ellaria will be happy I'll be gone." You say. Oberyn scoffed. "You're not serious. You won't leave this palace. My son will need his mother, and what makes you so sure this will be the last little sand snake you have?" He questioned. "I don't want to be a burden..." "You're not a burden. You could never be. You're the mother of my son and I want you to stay here." He said. You gave another sigh. "But, Ellaria..." "I will handle her. I want you to rest." He said, leaning over and kissing you on the lips.