( Oberyn POV )
Oberyn didn't like this wretched city. Indeed, it was the city that started this whole mess, and the city where his beloved sister and her children had met a brutal death. Yet, it was here that he was sent, to complete the vengeance that his nephew had started by himself a few months earlier.
He didn't even bother gracing the Lannisters or Tyrells with his presence at the head of the Dornish delegation. That would have been too much for him to bear. No. If they wished to talk to him, they would have to come here, to Chataya's. A fine establishment, and a place much more suited to his tastes, away, at least temporarily, from that stinking pile of shit they call a city.
The boys and girls were much prettier here too, after all. And he and Ellaria made a point to enjoy the establishment as much as they could before the inevitable impromptu visit from whoever they would send to greet the rest of the Dornishmen.
Although he himself was quite fine with this situation, his nephew looked more like a lost puppy.
Sitting on a large bed, his head resting on a pillow, he sat there, just watching what was going on around him like it didn't affect him, without blushing or turning away, but without any kind of lustful emotions either.
Instead, he just was content to whisper a thing or two into his daughter's ear, who just chuckled or smiled before replying with something of her own. Although, his vest was half-open and did reveal parts of his chest, which meant either he couldn't stand the heat of the place, which was a possibility, or he did indeed engage in activities here.
Oberyn just shook his head and ran his hands through Ellaria's back. The first whore that had serviced them was nice enough, but now he would want his paramour back. With a bit of luck, they would find someone amenable to service them both.
Before that, though, he would ensure his nephew and daughter were still fine with this little show…
"Nephew!" he finally turned to Quentyn, his gold-brown eyes barely moving to meet his.
"Uncle Oberyn." He sighed.
"Why don't you both try to loosen up? I doubt we will have much time for such frivolities later."
"I'd love to, uncle," Quentyn replied back. "If I wasn't sure that the next person they sent in this room had a dagger ready to plunge it in my back."
"This again?" Oberyn replied with a small frown. "I told you that the Lions wouldn't care."
"I fear I am not so optimistic. Even if Nym is talented with her daggers and I am decent enough with mine, every step I take in this city is one step closer to death." Quentyn shook his head. "Truly a wonderful idea to have brought me here."
"If it brings you any solace, it wasn't my idea." Oberyn shrugged back.
"I know…" Quentyn sighed deeply. "We've got to do with the hand we are dealt, I suppose. There is no going back."
"Then why the grim look?" Oberyn asked. "Clearly you ought to loosen up a little."
"Quentyn isn't fond of brothels or whorehouses." Nym cut in.
"Oh?" Oberyn asked. "Well, why didn't you say so? You know I wouldn't force you to come here. You could've stayed with the rest of the host."
"Because the rest of the city fucking stinks. And I'd rather bathe in the reeking stench of sex and bodily fluids than the smell of shit and piss." Quentyn scoffed. "It was a close battle, I assure you, but one of these options disgusted me more than the other. Also, the pillows here are really comfy and the bed doesn't rock all the time like on the ship…"
"On the smell, we can agree," Oberyn replied. "Even the number of roses in the capital hasn't done much for the smell…"
"I just want to finish our business here as soon as possible, and go back to the Gardens and Aliandra." Quentyn's hand found Nymeria's, intertwining as she gently put her head on his left shoulder.
"Your little jewel will be just fine at the Gardens." Ellaria suddenly sprung up and sat to Quentyn's right. "She's a lovely little girl, and she can afford to live without her parents for a few weeks. You know, when Dorea was born, your uncle took me on a trip to Myr only three months after she was born.
I entrusted her to the best people I know, and when I came back, another three months later, she was still perfectly healthy and was growing into a beautiful little girl! The nurses and septas at the Gardens know how to deal with children better than anyone in Westeros, and you both know it is only temporary.
You'll get to see your darling girl soon enough, and she will be just as healthy as you left her. She'll have grown a little, sure, but she'll be the same.
And you get to avoid some sleepless nights, which, believe me, would have turned your mind upside-down. Take it from someone who has experienced it four times already, and who is still experiencing it."
"Sweet, you've left me in the cold." Oberyn slyly mocked.
Ellaria just grinned at him.
"Your nephew is scared of the Lions and they are both worried about their child, they would need a little comfort!" she struck back.
"You're too kind, Ellaria." Nym chuckled back. "But it is normal that a mother would worry for her child, wouldn't it?"
"What kind of a mother would you be if you didn't!" Ellaria struck back. "But in life, there are always these situations where you can be forced away from your children. Whether it is because you leave them or because they just grow old and start flying with their own wings.
You know, I almost passed out when I saw how skilfully Elia was riding! I had thought that just a few days ago, I had nursed her at my own teat! And before we left…well leaving all the girls at the Gardens was another thing I didn't look forward to…but I came here anyway!"
"But, Ellaria…" Quentyn sighed. "Aliandra is only a few months old, and…these might be the most important months she has. I don't want to be a father who decides to have a child and then decides that the responsibility of bearing this child is not mine and run away."
"Aren't you the one always talking about duty?" Oberyn countered. "Well, nephew, you have a duty to Dorne and a duty as a father. And as of now, the duty you have to Dorne surpasses your one as a father. Aliandra will be perfectly fine, and you shall get to see her again soon, I can promise you."
"A duty to Dorne forced on him by someone else…" Nymeria growled. "Forced on us. We were forced to choose, father."
"He was." Oberyn conceded. "You weren't."
"You wouldn't really think I'd let my love go alone into this pit of snakes?" Nymeria shot back. Quentyn put a hand on her shoulder, quickly dissipating the anger she had been accumulating. "We decided to bind our fates long ago, I've already told you so. Leaving Aliandra at the Gardens broke my heart, but I'll be damned if I let Quentyn go through this alone. And I'll be damned if I can't stop him from getting harmed."
"I've got Arch for that." Quentyn smiled back. "But I'm glad you're here."
"That nimwit?" Nymeria scoffed playfully. "A cask of ale and he'll be dead drunk sleeping in front of your door. I'd rather have your frog guarding us, speaking of…"
"Achilles comes and goes as he pleases. He'll be back soon enough."
"Well, I hate to interrupt, but nephew, surely there can be something that can make you enjoy the visit here." He smiled. "I have an idea, I can call on some whores I know personally, how about that? I can assure you they will not try to stab you, on my recommendation."
"I'm…" Quentyn trailed.
"Perfect!" Oberyn announced. "I'll get you two some people, and I and Ellaria can go about our business undisturbed, everyone is happy!"
Nymeria whispered a few words into his nephew's ear, who finally bowed his head in defeat. Taking a deep breath, Quentyn finally murmured:
"Fine."
"I'm glad you could see reason!" Oberyn grinned. "Now…"
The doors to their rooms flung open. With an exasperated sigh, Oberyn turned around, hoping to see a few whores spontaneously presenting themselves to him. Of course, as expected, he was bitterly disappointed.
Instead, there was a blonde man, not exactly martial in stature, but still broadly built, in rich, red, clothing.
"Oh, not now!" Oberyn just turned back to Ellaria, who had left Quentyn's side to come back to his, roaming his hands along her back and kissing her neck. "Can't you see that I'm busy?"
"Prince Oberyn, I am…" the blonde man started.
"Yes, yes, I know who you are." Oberyn sighed deeply. "I did tell Lady Larra to stall for another hour or so. I didn't even have my seconds! Pity, perhaps another day. Very well, then. Lord Kevan Lannister, is it? Master of…well, something, probably."
"Master of Laws, Prince Oberyn." The blonde man slightly blushed at the view of Ellaria, whose garments left very little to the imagination. "You would forgive us, if you may. We were told it was Prince Doran that was coming, and then when meeting the delegation, we were surprised it was you at its head, and that you already had arrived in the city!"
"How could I resist such beautiful sights?" Oberyn waved his hand around as if he was describing the most beautiful place in the Known World. "How did you know to come here?"
"The beautiful sand steeds outside were an indication." Ser Kevan replied.
"Ah!" Oberyn laughed. "A man who knows his beasts well!"
"Indeed." Ser Kevan replied, still trying his best to not look at his paramour. Oberyn did love to see him squirm so, but this wasn't the time to torture him…or was it? Perhaps just a little, then.
"Why hasn't Prince Doran come?" Ser Kevan asked.
"I fear that Prince Doran's health is not as strong as it once was," Oberyn replied with as much tact as he could muster. "He has sent me in his stead, along with his son and heir."
Kevan Lannister's eyes darted to where Oberyn was pointing at.
"Prince Quentyn." Ser Kevan nodded. "An unexpected surprise."
"You can say that again," Quentyn replied, almost making Oberyn burst out in laughter.
"Prince Quentyn?" Ser Kevan asked, confused.
"I only meant that my presence here was not initially expected, but all the same, it is a pleasure to meet you, Ser Kevan." Quentyn suddenly put a much more serious face.
"And how could I forget the two wonderful ladies here?" Oberyn smirked. "My paramour, Ellaria, and my daughter, Nymeria, who is also my nephew's paramour as well."
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