Devotion (GOT Fanfic)

Chapter IV

"Do not force your body up, please." She says to him, her tone resounding that of a mother's caring caress. "Your wound will reopen and I don't to see you hurt yourself again."

He looked at her, unsure of what to do. He found her face was tired but it had a sense of kind beauty within it. This woman stitched him up, from what she said. He sighed a bit, trying to ensure he won't rip his wound open and with her hands helping him, laid back against the bed.

"Worry not mistress." He grinned at her weakly, his Dornish accent more different than what she had expected. It was a bit rough but it had poise. "I didna mean to worry ye."

"Your accent-"

"Aye, it's different than what ye hear from most Dornishmen." He replies back to her. "In Kingsgrave, most men took their accent from the First Men for many centuries. Then the Rhoynish came, and uh, they gave us another accent. Overtime it blended and ye know what I mean, by now no?"

She nodded. "Yes, I do. I was just, I had not been in the other parts of Dorne yet, save Sunspear and some other places like Planky Town. I did not know the accents varied as well. Maesters do not write about that."

"He, those pesky Maesters only focus on the things that don't matter." He jokes as he grunts, putting his head up slightly to have a better position on the pillow. "I didna mean to hurt yer feelings about that mistress, if you are friendly to the Maesters of Oldtown."

"I don't mind." She smiles at him, a bit of mischief in her eyes. "I sometimes find them unbearable but they are pretty useful when they are putting knowledge into good use."

"Oh, aye. That they're good at." He nods as he looked around the room. "I didna mean to be rude but where are we? It looks like a brothel and I hope you didna mind the language, but I didna think you are a service girl in a brothel. Ye look too..I didna know how to put it."

She chuckles at his ruefulness in trying to be careful in speaking around her. After all, no good raised woman would tolerate such disgusting accusation to the ears. "No, we are not in a brothel. We are at an inn, just below us the Viper's Pub. But we are definitely not in a brothel. My betrothed would probably be intrigued with the idea. But he would not allow me in there, not until we talked about it, at least. "

His eyes went wide.

"How old are ye, mistress? You look very young, not that I wish to offend yer person! And where is yer betrothed? He should be here with us in the room, I didna want him to accuse ye of any unfaithful acts, mistress-"

"Worry not, Mors." The two of them did not even notice Oberyn Martell's ragged presence until he spoke. He looked disheveled and in dire need of rest. But his smile still made him all the while too handsome. "I am here now, so you can't act on any ideas you may have on the women you've fancied."

"My prince!" Mors Manwoody exclaimed in surprise as Oberyn chuckled, while Leila glared at him. He caused her patient panic and that isn't needed right now when he has an injury he has to worry about. "I, I-"

"Don't worry about it, Mors. No need to great me with prince or anything and my dear lioness here will say the same. No titles here, just pleasantry. It is not a big deal to have my future wife care for a good old friend of mine." Oberyn walked forward and placed a small kiss upon Leila's cheek. He looks to her and asks, "Is he out of danger, my dear?"

"He'll be fine so long as he gets sufficient amount of rest." She tells him as she looked at him, finding the grin on his face made her softer as her glare disappeared. "Which I should think, my dear would give him by not shocking him with your sudden appearance."