Another Call to Arms

New Topic
New Poll

 given the chance, tag: oberyn | mid first crone | sunspear
 direct link • Jul 15 2017, 07:49 pm
• • 0 posts

t was rare that the Lady of Norvos felt elated, but as she left the small council chambers, she felt as if she were walking on air. Mellario was not an optimistic and hopeful person by nature. Even as a little girl, she saw the city she lived in as a gilded cage, and though she longed to escape it, she did not have any expectations that she ever would. Then, she had met the Prince of Dorne, and she had fallen in love. Falling in love changed everything, at least for a while.

But even that had not lasted. In time, her newfound optimism and happiness had turned inward, and she became even more jaded and closed off as an adult than she ever had as a girl. Mellario was slow to trust and quick to judge; she was slow to open up and quick to write people off. She did not easily love others, but that had never been a problem with her children.

With them, her heart bled for every issue and problem they had ever faced. She had spent nights and nights awake with Arianne when she had been sick as a girl. She had tossed and turned, thinking of Trystane’s plight with Myrcella. When Quentyn had written to her to state his intentions of staying in King’s Landing despite the war and his betrothed’s dragons, she had been distraught. But when news had come of the fall of King’s Landing, there had been no salve to soothe the ache in her chest.

She loved all of her children, but Quentyn had always been special. Torn away from her at a young age and given to the Yronwoods to foster for his uncle’s crime, she had always regretted what could have been. His fostering had been the final straw to break her marriage with Doran, and she had clung more closely to Arianne and Trystane afterwards, determined to keep them close to her despite what the king of Dorne wished.

Quentyn. For weeks, she had wondered if he had perished in the fighting, but as time went out without hearing from him, she became…hopeful, for lack of better word. No news was good news, and she was certain that if he had died, then a raven would have been sent to Dorne post hence. Zarin had promised to find him and then find a way for her to get to him, but she had scarcely believed it would happen. Until it did. Essos. Volantis.

She entered her rooms and began to pack. There was an open truck nearby that she had brought to her chambers that morning. Despite what would have happened in the small council chamber, there was no force in the world that would have kept her from Quentyn once she had discovered where he was. She was his mother. She paused in her movements, spotting Quentyn’s last letter open on her desk.

Have you ever been afraid of what you might do, given the chance? I think perhaps you have. Men compare me to Father the most, but so often I have found my thoughts running along the lines you taught me as a child, one letter at a time from the other side of a realm.

Her fingers pressed against her lips as she smiled, her eyes bright as she looked at some of the last words her son had ever written her. Had she been afraid of what she might do, given the chance? Perhaps Quentyn was right, but despite any misgivings she might have or fear she might feel, she would go to Volantis because, given the chance, she would do anything for her children.


WORDS: 615 | TAG: Oberyn | OUTFIT: outfit

NOTES: ---

 direct link • Jul 19 2017, 11:43 pm
Prince of Dorne
The Red Viper
Sworn to House Martell
43 years
Niki • she/her • 216 posts

It was a shame Oberny had long since outgrown the ability to bluntly ask Doran why his wife could be such a bitch; getting away with such boldness was reserved for the young. But even if he no longer expressed his agitation toward his goodsister as vocally, he internally bemoaned her attitude - or, more directly, her attitude toward him - after nearly every damn encounter lately. He considered it an achievement to be more difficult than Cersei , but Doran was less amused when Oberyn shared this thought. Soon after, he excuses himself from their dinner.

The timing of his leave was just as well - he didn't need anyone to call him out on conveniently saying he'd join Mellario despite everyone knowing that he would be unable to even consider it, given the responsibilities to his family and the ones left behind during his bout of fever. It was all part of a larger public dance, as far as he was concerned. A good show that despite the chillness in the air between them and, colder still, the clipped conversation, family loved each other, and more importantly, a prince loved his "queen".

And he did love his goodsister - Mellario had been in his life since before he could grow hair on his face. Doran brought home a beautiful, foreign bridge that would capture any young man's attention. He and Elia were especially curious in knowing what about this woman made Doran tick. She and her bearded priest captivated their interest for weeks, and it wasn't long after that she felt part of their family.

But people change. A piss-poor mix of stubbornness and circumstance kept him from getting as close as Elia had been with Mellario, and Oberyn certainly sealed their icy fate the day he approached her about her the games she played and she slapped him in response; it was a fair reaction, though Oberyn remembered the struggle of staying his hand and suppressing the desire to return the gesture.

"You ought to know, Mellario, that I - of all people - understand your lack of patience and utter disregard for caution. Every moment that passes without your eyes confirming your child's safety is another moment filled with dread," he begins, leaning against the arch of her doorway, unwilling to move inward and breach her private space without invitation.

He thinks of Myrcella alone in Highgarden, surrounded by people that hate the house from which she hails overall, but her father in particular. When war had been declared and lines drawn in the sand, he demanded her return immediately. He'd threatened her betrothed, his own friend of many years, in a nasty letter that had been hastily written as a result of his fright for her safety. With her now Myrcella Tyrell, he could no longer make such demands - not without greater complications and political tip-toeing that Oberyn was never great in achieving.

"I would let the streets run red if it meant securing any of my children. I would start a war in order to ensure their well-being, and I know our people would fight proudly for my progeny. But I am reckless, rash - I am bloodthirsty man, you see. It is why the septa claimed proof of the gods were blatant in my mother's birth order, as the third and last living child, and Doran held the birthright."

His arms cross over his chest and Oberyn rests his head along the cool stone of the arch, glancing at Mellario and the parchment she held in her hand. "But your husband has taught me to use caution, and I see its value - even if it frustrates me, even if it's against my instinct. But travelling as Queen, or even Mellario of Norvos, makes you a target, whether you like hearing it or not."

Oberyn straightens his spine and turns toward her, no longer leaning so casually in her doorway. "I cannot ris-- we cannot risk Baratheon agents seizing your presence as an opportunity - be it as hostage or a mere tail. We simply can't underestimate these assassins, and let us stop pretending that Zarin or Vilmos or whatever fucking person in Volantis can unquestionably promise your safety. A red priest, Mellario - a red priest meeting with a woman who owns dragons!"

And with a deep breath, he adds: "and I do not like the idea of publicizing tensions between you and Doran. It can reflect upon our House as a whole - even if you no longer like to consider yourself part of it, consider the potential impact.

"Of course 'soon' is never soon enough when you want to see your son - that goes without saying, Mel, and I'm sorry if my issues are inconvenient for you and your urgent plans, but you've got to understand, at the very least, the rationale behind my worries of you travelling anything but in disguise."

 direct link • Jan 03 2018, 11:40 pm
28 years
ASHLEY • she/her • 1880 posts

Thread Archived!

This thread has been deemed inactive. To have this thread reopened, please contact a staff member via PM with a link to the thread and the forum you wish it to be placed.

1 User(s) are reading this topic (1 Guests and 0 Anonymous Users)
0 Members:

Topic Options
New Topic
New Poll




tag box rules
♦ Register/post with your OOC alias
♦ Mature, RF and Letter tags can be found in the "Smilies" Link
♦ Just paste your link, no need need for [url=]or []
♦ Any site-related post may be tagged here
♦ Character names for OCs can be colored by using [class=grouplowercase*][/class*] tags! Further assistance with classes and hashtags HERE, and for the generator HERE!

skin by miss texas at cttw, cc, and shine