Devotion (GOT Fanfic)

Chapter XIX

T H E   S T O R M L A N D S

T H E   B O N E W A Y

N E A R     G R I F F I N’S   R O O S T

OBERYN MARTELL HAD NEVER THOUGHT THAT THERE WOULD EVEN BE A MOMENT WHERE HE WOULD BE SO DRAINED OF ENERGY IN AN ENDEAVOUR HE HAD UNDERTAKEN. But of course, what kind of man would not be tired if they had been constantly fighting to the death with savage men after savage men that ambushed them through their journey upwards the Dornish Marches and into the Stormlands.
It had been weeks since his first engagement in combat with the lords of the Stormlands by the Dornish borders, known as the Marcher Lords.  This is a title used by houses that had defended their borders against Dorne throughout history. There were four houses in the Stormlands who had held this title for generations. The Carons, the Selmys, the Dondarrions and the Swanns. 

There were Reacher lords who were Marcher Lords too, but despite Oberyn’s dislike to some of them, he was quite sure that those people would not be his enemy at this moment. The whole of the fruitful region after all joined the Tyrells into the war in support for the dragon’s cause. Admirably so but Oberyn found that the idea of war fighting for Rhaegar was something he had detested from the beginning.

But it was not that fool he was fighting for.

No, he’d rather die than allow himself to even fight for that man.
Oberyn had to admit that they were fierce in their own ways and strong-willed with purpose when he had encountered them in the skirmish of the battlefield. But he was quite sure that their purpose was not as strong as his own.
Because he was fighting for the woman he loved.

Leila Lannister.

It had been so long since he had seen her when he said goodbye to her from the shores of Dragonstone. It was almost as if he was still on that day, reliving it in a loop.

The sun was rising as the calm quiet waves of the sea swallowed the sand over and over. He could remember how windy it was as well, the smell of the sea salt water was still evident to him. He remembered it all, imprinted in his mind like all his memories of the woman he had loved and still loved.

Her hair danced along the wind, she had just woken up so she had neglected to even tie it up. Nor did she dress in regality befitting of her station. She allowed herself to be before him in her a nightgown covered by a long shawl that drifted with the wind as they walked towards the ship his family had sent for him.

She wore no shoes; her feet were bare as it felt the warmth and coldness of the beautiful crisped sands and saw the large barren rocks that lived there alongside the cold dragon’s home. Oberyn could remember how beautiful she was as the sun rose to greet them good morning. Her smile, her beautiful smile upon those lips he had loved and worshipped in their short time together. Oberyn pursed his lips. The smile had been genuine to him at the time. It curved so innocently upon her face then, without lies or deceit he believed it.

But it wasn’t until he saw her eyes.
Those beautiful seafoam greens that once held the same vigor and sharpness from her lord father and the same life and vivacity she had inherited from her mother, turned into lifeless creatures emptied without the truthfulness of the soul.

Oberyn felt himself die every single time he returned to the memory.    

How could he have not noticed it then?

She was sorrowful.

She had been betrayed.

And she hid it so well.