Several years later.
Prince Amare Martell was a handsome boy with olive skin and black eyes that shined brilliantly, Oberyn Martell's firstborn son. To say that father and son were alike was an understatement, it was as if they were mirror images of one another yet, Amare was mama's boy. He greatly admired his mother, a feared beauty, even he couldn't not deny because he had seen men's gaze linger on his mother. It was disgusting and made his blood boil, it was probably his father where he got that short temper from, because even today her mother did not look like she aged a day, just like his father.
Amare sighed internally, shaking off his temper as he stabbed into his beacon. He could not afford to create a scene, firstly because Jon, his dearest little brother would be pissed with him and so would be his sister, Levana, who would not let him hear the end of it. Secondly, he could not create a scene when he was entertaining breakfast with the king and queen of seven kingdom's, not to mention his sister in law – Ronnika, daughter of Aegon and Daenerys Targaryen. Jon was to wed Ronnika tomorrow in rebuilt sept of Baelor in Kingslanding, the only reason he set foot in this shithole of the city.
To say the least, it was awkward for Amare because his little brother was marrying someone who was named after and named the same as his mother. His new sister would be, Ronnika, it gave him shivers in wrong manner. He wondered how his little brother fell in love with Targaryen princess even when she had their mothers name. Ronnika Targaryen exact opposite of his mother, she had light silver hair, indigo eyes and shy mannerism. She was a lady with this light about her, the innocence and honey dripping about her and he knew why his little brother could not resist her. Plus, Jon and Ronnika since children, always preferred one another, always together, as if their pair were written in stars.
He knew the king loved his mother once and so, did his mother. His father had told him of their little romance as children when he was around thirteen and met the king twice. The king, Amare had then for the first time had noticed was a handsome man with warm eyes and gentlemanly air about him, something most ladies would prefer. Someone noble and just, nothing like his father who lived for passion, to do anything that ignited his desire. Oberyn Martell and Aegon Targaryen were entirely two different man, one was the Red Viper while another, the White Wolf.
Yet he was slightly grateful when the king did not push for betrothal between his brother and her daughter, especially after their names. He was grateful that this love was one with natural air, with instinct from the heart. He was glad, truly glad that his brother found his love and was getting married to her.
For once, first love did come true, he thought.
"Why has not Prince Oberyn, not joined on the occasion?" the question of dragon queen, broke Amare from his train of thought.
And it was true, his father had been missing from yesterday afternoon. He had heard no news of him and frankly he was too busy with Levana to even notice his disappearance. "I'm afraid, my husband can not join us for breakfast because he is resting, he was up late the last night." Lies slipped from his mother's mouth like wine and it was rather amusing to watch people get drunk on them as both the king and queen, hell, the entire table with his siblings just nodded away.
Rest of the breakfast went well, Jon and Ronnika were exchanging shy glances while Levana was busy chattering away with the crown prince, Rhett Targaryen who in all honesty was charmed and fancied his little sister. How could he not, unlike the brothers, his sister looked more like his mother, except for her black eyes from their father and even Levana was a proper lady, something of queen material. At last, it was a shame because the only person who Levana ever fancied was the Lannister boy, Juan Lannister, their pretty second cousin with green eyes and blonde hair, son of Jamie Lannister and Brienne of Tarth.
He noticed uncle Tyrion was not at the breakfast table, being hand of the king had often turned him into a very busy person with more gray hair than blonde, often accompanied by the second prince, Ivar Targaryen. A boy with dark hair and indigo eyes with air of enigma around him, the same boy who was not present at the table. Now, he was enigma Amare wanted to solve. The prince obviously fancied him, he could tell by the narrowing of those indigo eyes when Amare flirted or fooled around with noble or servant girls, especially after the nights they had spent together. It was his pride that kept him from confessing to Amare, he knew.
He licked his lips, at thought of Ivar. Oh, how he wanted to fuck him again. Wanted to hear his small grunts and moans rather than some common whore. Amare liked men and women equally unlike Ivar who only fancied men. Oh, how he wanted to make Ivar squirm, he closed his eyes picturing the scene.
"What are you thinking about, brother?" Levana asked, even Rhett now turned to look at him.
Amare smirked, "Nothing. Just about little bird I wanted catch before we left Kingslanding." And with that Levana turned back to her conversation with Rhett, not suspecting anything because everyone knew, Prince Amare was collector of exotic things, anything and everything. It was his mother's eyes that narrowed at him, and he knew that she knew.
Nothing ever got past by Lone Wolf's eye. His mother picked up her goblet, putting it in the air as if it were toast, smirking at him. Amare followed her suit, oh, how he loved his mother. Never to deter him from any sort of mischief, letting him do everything and anything, unless it could endanger his life.
He understood why his father, a man of many passions fell in love with her. her mother was unlike any woman, bold, powerful, seductive and fearsome opponent both in field and court. She was something else entirely, he thought as his mother resumed talking to said king and the queen of the seven kingdoms. But he knew the truth, truth of dragon victor and real ruler who sat on the throne and he was staring right at her. She was with dark hair, seductive lips and witty words, Ronnika Martell, the Lone Wolf, Queen in the North and Dragon Victor, the real ruler of the seven kingdoms and as if she knew what he was thinking, Ronnika turned to look at her eldest son who did nothing but bow slightly at her. Acknowledging her as the Queen of shadows, because after all she was ruling from the shadows.
She was a queen in every sense of the word.
"Brothel." Amare blinked, "Why are we at a brothel?" It was highly unusual place to go with one's mother. Ronnika had dragged her son in middle of afternoon, in middle of his scheming to a brothel.
"It's here." Ronnika got off her horse, taking a minute in her dornish attire of yellow poofy dress. She walked in as her son followed her," Your father is famous for fucking half of Westeros and where do you think he will disappear after long journey and bad road with handful of dutiful days after his arrival?"
The brothel was filled with beautiful naked girls that fluttered around Amare with their pink tits as he followed his mother. His hands were itching to touch one of these pink little girls but more than the lust, it was his curiosity that won. How did his mother know the area, so well? Of a brothel at that? He quickly followed his mother, arriving in private quarters of brothel and stood in front of wide door.
"Behold." Ronnika stated as she opened the wide doors. Amare and Ronnika stepped in, the room was dimly lighted, with smell of sex, lust and musk in the air, it was practically drowning in it. In the middle of the room, by the wall was a circular large bed covered in colored whores who were enjoying the atmosphere and one another. The room was filled moans and grunts, Amare noticed. He walked beside his mother, ignoring the surprised looks of the prostitutes as they neared the bed, the grunts did not stop.
His eyes slightly widened as he took in the next scene, his father reclined on the many cushions behind him at the head of the bed, his hands occupied with goblet and another on the cushion beside him as he watched the slut ride him. His eyes not wavering from her form, lingering at her tits that were bouncing in the air. The girl was moaning mess, her eyes closed and her hands on his father's distinct pectorals. Oh god, Amare gulped, someone is getting murdered today. Was it the whore or his father? He didn't know.
Oberyn Martell, sipped his wine, his lazy black eyes turned to the source of interference. Amare noticed his father was not surprised to see his wife as he just merely greeted her wife, "Greetings wife." In that husky voice that, Amare saw visible shivers pass down the slut's spine, and on hearing those word's the whore opened her eyes to only see the Lone Wolf standing nearby, watching her fuck her husband. Amare saw another shiver pass down her spine, her eyes filled with fear and then next she gasped, probably because his father gave particularly hard trust as she tried to stop and get off him.
Amare was shell shocked, his feet rooted in the same place as he watched her mother get on the bed where his father's arm was over the cushion invitingly. Everyone was watching them, Oberyn fucking a whore in front of his wife, who sat by her side, watching the performance. The slut tried to get off but stopped with Ronnika's one honeyed word," Stay." Oberyn than picked up speed and trusting quickly into the whore which made her gasp and moan, while he quickly chased his release. With another few minutes and few high-pitched moans from the slut and few grunts from Oberyn, did he release on his white cum on slut's stomach.
"Leave." With one word all the whores from the room disappeared except the whore who was fucked by Oberyn, who was staggering towards the door. Trying to leave as quickly as possible. Oberyn quickly tugged himself into his pants as soon as she got off him, pulling up his breaches. And in next second minute, there were only three people in the room, Oberyn, Ronnika and Amare at the foot of the bed as the door closed with a small thud at woke Amare from his state of paralysis and shock.
He watched, his father turned to his side and bending down towards his mother and kissing her as if she was the air he breathed. "Greetings husband," her words dripping of desire as she murmured on Oberyn's lips as they pulled away slightly to catch their breath.
"What in the seven hells." Amare couldn't help but mutter to himself. What was in the seven -fucking hell, was happening? Did she not just see him fuck somebody in front of her, not see the proof that he had in fact fucked not just somebody but rather several somebodies. Their little bubble must have broken by Amare's mumbling and muttering that Oberyn straightened himself, pulling Ronnika into his lap.
"Why are you so shocked? Did you not celebrate your name day with Oberyn at brothel?" Ronnika asked her son, leaning against Oberyn's shoulder to give him easy excess to her neck where he pressing small sweet kisses. "Your father is Oberyn Martell, the Prince of Dorne. Girls and boys would line up to fuck him till his last day."
"And they all will need to get behind you." Oberyn murmured into her neck, still distracted. Amare just opened his mouth and closed it, for once he did not have a retort because it was simply true. His father had infamous sexual appetite but he did not know that his mother knew about his brothel visits, but than again he should have known. A woman like his mother was not given into petty jealousy and that she was just untamed as his father.
Amare just shook his head, no matter how attractive his parents were, he did not want them to dry hump each other in front of him. That would be just gross. He cleared his throat to gain attention of his parents before the temperature of room rises again. "Why am I here?"
"Did you know, it is here that I met your mother." Oberyn said as he pulled away from Ronnika, settling his eyes on Amare. "In this very room, at that time, I had my dagger into a Lannister's hand when she walked in."
"No." Amare said, he had known that his parents had met in Kingslanding but they never went into details, not until now and he knew why exactly. It was not daily that you tell your children that you met in a whorehouse, especially when Levana and Jon who though being Dornish had prudishness of North. "Aside from that matter, why am I here? I have no desire to have orgy today, especially with mother around."
"And why not? You never denied before."
Amare ran his hand through his dark hair in frustration, "I just don't want to." Why can't they leave him alone, he had still to think of trap for Ivar. He always liked their stories but not today, there were only few days before they left Kingslanding and before that, he wanted to have his fill of Ivar.
"Ivar." It was his mother voice for the first time in while that had his eyes back on them. 'It is him, is it not?" Referring to Ivar, no doubt in his mind.
"Do you disapprove?"
"No." His father said without looking at him. His hand going over her wife's arm which was adorned with the red viper. The rubies glinted red as the sunlight hit them, giving it a menacing look, making it amply clear who that woman belonged to. "You have your mother's common sense and my devilment. I see them fighting," referring to his conflicting thoughts about Ivar, "let your mother win."
Amare's lips twitched, "So, you do disapprove."
"I'm merely asking you to be cautious. I would never try to control you, we would never try to control you and you know that." His father was right, he needed to be more careful. He was not a child anymore and they were not to be caught by servants or anyone else when they kept their doors unlocked or locked lips in the shadows. "Unbent, Unbowed. Unbroken. Words of house Martell, and who am I to stop a Martell?"
Amare nodded, he could not say anything because it was slightly overwhelming. He loved his parents, but at times like this, he wished they did not know him so well. Hell, they could predict his every move just as they could do of his clueless siblings. But at the same time, he appreciated them too, they never hide anything from him. All he had do was ask, unlike his little siblings who were slightly more sheltered than him, maybe because they were children of summer. The same summer his parents brought after defeating the night king and Cersei Lannister, he proud of them. So, proud.
"I don't think I know how to love anything." Amare whispered, fear of his heart. That he could not love anyone but his family. He saw his parents in love, his siblings having their first love, hell, even one of them was getting married before him. Was there something wrong with him? He quietly sat at the edge of the bed, in front of his parents.
"No, my sweet darling." Ronnika whispered as she ran her hands in son's hair in comforting manner as she pulled him close to her, to them. "You love too much, that why you can't differentiate between what's platonic and what's not."
"Plus, this is no time of romance." Oberyn added after few minutes of comfort to lighten the atmosphere. "Your brother is getting is married, you can't create a scandal including the second the prince, not right now at least."
"Jon would hate me for it. So, would Levana."
Oberyn and Ronnika could not help but chuckle at his statement. "They probably will." And it seemed all will be fine.
The wedding was an extravagant affair and it was simply gorgeous. No money was spared. The Sept of Baelor was rebuilt to its former glory, maybe even more beautiful than one before. Ronnika and Oberyn were so proud of their children, especially Jon, who did not waste anytime in snatching the Targaryen beauty.
Jon Martell was handsome boy with black eyes and dark hair, with skin and manners of a Northmen. He had a gentle heart, something that set him apart from all his siblings who had fierce heart. Yet, he was feared swordsmen. Now, the same boy was no longer a boy but man getting married to a princess in the eyes of gods, getting married to his beloved. Truly, the gods had been kind to him, he thought to himself. And few minutes later, he saw his bride walk down the stairs, stealing his heartbeat as a new love graced his heart in blur of their marriage vows.
Ronnika Martell watched her son getting married and so did Jon, he saw his daughter getting married. Something they both did not predict, they never pushed their children at each other yet they held slight hope in their hearts that maybe they could reunite in this guise of love. They both stood on opposite sides of the marriage parties, yet their dark eyes met when the vows were spoken. And for once, the only thing, both of them thought was, we kissed beneath the twisted trees, our lips between the stars, tiny ripples in a lake, this love, once lost, is ours.
And they smiled at one another for the first time in a while.
At the dinner reception, Oberyn and Ronnika set at the high tables watching everyone. The summer has finally arrived, they both thought as they saw the scene unfold before them. Ronnika and Jon were so happy, Levana and Amare teasing them insistently, the laughs and cheers filled the air while the silent prince Ivar watched Amare with secret loving gaze.
Juan and Sana, their second cousins sitting with them, son and daughter of Jamie Lannister and Brienne of Tarth. The heir to Casterly Rock had his fingers intertwined with Levana under the table, they knew. They even saw the childish crush that Sana had on Rickon Stark who graced the table next them. Yet, they pitied the golden-haired beauty for Rickon was already enchanted with Elia Sand who sat beside him, his loving fiancé. They even saw Arya and Gendry Baratheon of Stormlands, whisper among themselves. Oh, how love had filled the air.
Ronnika thought of Sansa, the lady of Winterfell, still acting as high adviser of Winterfell. She never married a golden prince with beautiful castle as she once dreamed as a child, no, she married a good man with golden heart who had no title. She lived up to another level of statement when she had said to her, "I will always be a Stark." Bran, on the other hand was entire different story. The boy had become former shell of himself during the long winter, but now with Meera around with her unrelenting and undying love for him, not giving into any harsh words of his, had his heart thawing.
Her eyes then fleeted to Lannister table, graced with Jamie Lannister, who no longer was a Kingsguard and took his rightful place at Casterly Rock with his warrior wife, Brienne of Tarth, now even a lady. In her eyes, it was Jamie who brought the summer and ended the holy war because it was him after all, who pierced Night King's heart with dragon glass dagger into his back and then cutting of his throat with Widow's Wail before setting him on fire. He was a Kingslayer in every right of the word, he was a hero who saved Westeros. He even saved the king when he fell of the horse and when Night King was about to push a sword into his heart. If it wasn't for her cousin, some crazy Targaryen cunt would be sitting on Iron throne. And it was her decision of immunity to him, that Jamie spared from every crime judgement and breaking oath of Kingsguard.
She was happy for him, not only did he gain his honor back but also managed to find love in dead of the winter. He now had two beautiful children with Brienne who loved nothing as well as Jamie in the entire world. He was grandpapa too, Myrcella had twins who graced her and Trystane with all the happiness in the world. It was rather a relief that Cersei had lied about being pregnant and her head was immediately looped off, it was due to her that the mountain dared point his sword at Jamie. Jamie who had loved and loved her, it was at her command that Jamie smelled that steel. That could not be forgiven, even gods would not begrudge her for this, not for this.
As for Tyrion, he had returned back to his former self yet his eyes spoke of unrequited love as he looked at his queen. Oh, how sad unrequited love was. Tyrion who had busied himself with affairs of state and helping Ivar to learn the affairs that did matter with Rhett, princely duties as well. He still laughed and drank to his heart, yet the hollowness in his laughter made her grow sad. Yet, she saw hope for him because he was surrounded by family and friends who loved and appreciated him, and for one, lady of house Ambrose, Celeste Ambrose, a redhaired beauty found herself with curious love for her cousin. So, yes, there was hope for him.
Daemon had finally managed to get Arianne back as her stupid husband got himself killed in a hunt, and even married her once he was declared to be legal heir of Godsgrace. To say the least, Ronnika now did not have to take care of that charming bastard who served them in both loyalty and faith. And years had done him good, never had he looked so lively and happy when he did with Arianne who was now expecting. This love had done him good rather than her, the one that broke his heart. He was laughing among his Dornishmen and when his eyes met hers, he nodded and she did too, their unspoken friendship was at a new turn.
They both gazed at this scene, with mirth and happiness feeling their hearts. Ronnika thought of her parents, would Brandon Stark and Lily Lannister would be proud of her? that she managed to create a family that actually had love within themselves? And as for Oberyn, he thought of Elia, he thought of her children, the same children who could have been getting married now? Had those children finally forgiven for his absence when they were murdered? Had Elia forgiven him? Because he finally succeeded in making family, all his children, including all his eight sand daughters were happy and healthy, so was Trystane and Doran. He had created a new family at Sunspear, house Martell filled with love and joy. Was Elia proud of him?
They wondered as they both stared at the scene ahead, their hands clasping under the table. Wishing this happiness continued forever, as they fell in love with it.
It was late in the night; the stars were high in the sky and Ronnika was drunk on the brilliance of them. They shined so brightly, so brightly that it made her jealous, to exist forever to be admired. Oh, she would like that. Yet, none of those stars, she thought, ever compared to Oberyn, they were pale in front of him.
For her, he was her sun, shining brightly more than anything and anyone. If not for him, she would not have what she had today, she had never been more so grateful that capricious man stole her heart without her even knowing. She did not even know when he had put himself behind her, not until she felt his breath on her ear, on her skin, his touch on her skin that delighted her heart. "By now, you should be able to tell, what those stars are saying." He breathed in a husky whisper on her cold skin that made her warm.
She teased, playing along, pressing her back into his warm chest, nuzzling into his neck. "Maybe I do." She murmured into his bronze skin.
"Then, tell me what the stars are saying about me."
"That you're a necessity and a luxury."
And they broke into small chuckles and not long before they were unable to hold themselves back to kiss each other. Their kisses hard and urgent, filled with need and desire, of both love and possession. Their kisses saying, I love you, even if there isn't any me, or any love, or even any life. I love you.
I love you, so, so much. I love you.
I love you.