There were two babes in the Tower of Joy.
Two babes tied so closely to their parents, Ned had to make the decision.
One with hair like raven feathers, eyes as grey as steel, and a face of a true Stark. The other, with hair like moonlight, eyes lik...
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Oberyn drank from the goblet deeply as he looked to his lover, her dark eyes drinking greedily the way he appreciated her. She held nerves in the pit of her stomach, who wouldn't with Oberyn about to fight a mountain of a man. "You could at least wear a helmet." Tyrion jested at him, watching as Oberyn simply smirked. "You shouldn't drink before a fight."
"A letter for you, Prince Oberyn." A Dornish voice interrupted the trio as his personal ward came up, Oberyn frowning as he watched him.
"I thought I left you in Dorne." He muttered, side eyeing the boy he knew very well. The squire blushed, the feel of Oberyn's warm hand falling upon his, taking the from the young boy. It held a single red seal along the close, a pattern of scales indented into the wax. He'd never seen a sigil like that, he didn't recognise the house. "Who is this from?"
The boy swallowed deeply. "A number of Golden Company entered Dorne last week, this letter was handed to Prince Doran before he told me to give it to you. He didn't say who it was from." What was a number of Golden Company doing in Dorne? He'd fought for them in his youth but not enough to warrant a visit. Oberyn frowned but sliced his thumb beneath it, feeling the give of the paper as he unscrolled it.
Ellaria watched as Oberyn's face changed within an instance, the furrow of the brow as a spark light within his eyes; the same fury of fire that had burned before Elia was ripped from the world alight once more. "I think I will take the helmet; we have business to conduct elsewhere." He passed the scroll to Ellaria who pulled it open to read what it said inside; her eyes falling to a single name at the bottom.
Rhaenar Blackfyre of House Targaryen.
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