GOT : Chapter 74

( Nymeria POV )

Nymeria felt the bed rattle, and slowly opened her eyes, sunlight quickly blinding her. Had she overslept again? The nights after the birth were certainly tiring, and she couldn't count the number of times that she had woken up well past midday.

Her bed shook again, and she lazily looked to her left. Quentyn sat there, his bare chest heaving, while peals of sweat were slowly dropping from his face. Concerned, she quickly brought her hand over his chest.

"What's wrong?" she quickly asked. "Did you have the nightmare again?"

Quentyn didn't answer immediately, preferring to swallow and quickly nod.

She offered her hand, which her lover quickly took and squeezed just hard enough for her to know he'd been scared once again. Quickly, she moved over towards him, combing his wavy hair with her free hand.

"There, love." She whispered, "There's nothing to worry about. I'm here. You're safe with me."

She threw her hair back. Usually, she'd have it in an intricate braid, but Quentyn loved when it flowed freely, and she didn't mind it either. It allowed her to be herself even for a moment. To be vulnerable but free nonetheless.

She freed her hand from his grasp, instead focusing on reducing his chest's heaving rhythm, his olive skin contrasting with her lighter tone, proof of her half-Volantene heritage. Slowly but surely, he calmed down and she kissed him chastely on the lips.

"I'm sorry." He shook his head. "I shouldn't have woken you."

"Stop it, love." She smiled back. "You know I don't care. And besides, it's training for when Aliandra starts to act up."

He chuckled and smiled widely. Nymeria loved her cousin's smile. It was a shame that he rarely ever did. She could barely remember when he had smiled in public. It was only when she was there with him, just the two of them, that he would smile brightly. And it was there that she saw the most of her father in him. His smile.

"Was there…anything new?" she asked.

"No." Quentyn shook his head while touching his scar, which despite having healed, still curved across his face. Nymeria knew that her lover hated it, but she couldn't help but like this facial feature, even knowing how it came about.

"It's the same thing. Over and over." Quentyn continued. "In a dark place, then a dragon, and then dragonfire envelops me. There's nothing more. But it's like I can feel the warmth taking me. I can feel the fire burning me. I can feel it all…"

"It's nothing more than a bad dream, cousin…" she whispered. "There are no dragons here. Only hawks."

Quentyn smiled again and she took the opportunity to climb atop of him, trailing her hands down his chest, and downwards from there.

"You know…" she smirked. "I could take your mind off of this dream…"

Her hands wandered down as she prepared to take off her light gown, but Quentyn quickly clasped her arm with his own hand.

"Nym…" he spoke softly. "The maester said to wait for two moons before it was safe."

"I feel just fine." She frowned slightly.

Instead, Quentyn rose, his gaze meeting hers, his lips brushing over hers before sealing a passionate kiss. It didn't last long, but her cousin broke it once more.

"I'm not gambling your health for a few moments of pleasure." He spoke softly, bringing his soft hands into her hair, which was flowing freely down to her lower back.

She pouted slightly, before smiling slightly.

"Is that because you want more time with the Fowlers?" she teased.

Quentyn frowned slightly.

"You know full well that it isn't that…" he touched her arms, helping her put the gown she'd shed back on.

"Oh?" she teased again. "But you seem content enough with Jeyne and Delilah. Admittedly I can understand, enjoying both at once must be fun..."

"I only did because you allowed me to. Not to mention you basically dragged me into Jeyne's bed that first night." He straightened up. "I love you and only you. You know it."

"Of course, I do, silly." She winked. "I was only teasing. If I had anything against it, I would have let you know. And besides, I had my own fun."

"Oh, that I have no doubt."

"How so?" she asked, feigning ignorance.

"You have a lot of qualities, love." He kissed her forehead. "But subtlety and discretion are not amongst them."

The half-Volantene bastard laughed.

"That we can agree on." She giggled, bringing her arms around him. "However…"

"However?"

"The minute these four moons are over, you better have exactly nothing and fuck all planned on that day, Quentyn Nymeros Martell, because I…" she started but was interrupted.

"I'm sure you believe that right now." He warned. "But you might not be so enthusiastic later."

"Oh? Pray tell, why?"

"Because you'd want to go outside, to ride, to spar again, and to spend your days exploring some of the mountains around here." He pointed to the windows which revealed a beautiful day over Skyreach, the snowy peaks of the Red Mountains being clearly visible in the distance. "After being stuck inside for so long, I bet you would rather go outside rather than stay in bed."

"We can do it outside if you want." She raised an eyebrow.

He stared blankly at her.

"Teasing, love!" she sheepishly laughed. "You know, you need to start knowing when I'm teasing you and when I'm not."

"I'll tell you that it's really hard to tell considering what I know of you."

"Fair point." She conceded. "But you're also right. I'm aching to start sparring again. It has been too long since I've touched a spear. And you almost forgot, but there is something or rather someone that needs all of our attention."

Quentyn smiled brightly at that.

"Do you want to check if she's awake?" he asked.

"Please do." She replied. "I want to hold her in my arms again."

Quentyn stood from the bed and put on a shirt before quickly walking to the crib adjacent to their shared bed. Slowly, he picked up a baby from it. Far from crying, the baby let itself be picked up, giggling while covered in sheets.

"She's beautiful." Nymeria let out while Quentyn slowly handed her to her.

"She's inherited that from her mother," Quentyn whispered. "She's even got your eyes."

Indeed, Aliandra had the viper eyes that characterized her and her sisters. However, her eye colour was that of Quentyn's: brown with a hint of gold. Her hair was dark but showed some silver streaks. It seemed that her own Volantene heritage had revealed itself in an uncanny way.

"Silver-dark hair…" Quentyn whispered while looking at Aliandra's face, smiling over her. "If anything, she'll look a Targaryen more than a Martell…"

"She's got your eye colour, though. Your nose, your face…and your skin too." Nymeria pointed out. "My skin is not that dark, but yours…they match almost perfectly."

"I can stay looking at her all day." Quentyn kissed her cheek, while giving Aliandra a small toy to fiddle her tiny hands around.

Aliandra. A daughter of House Martell. Their daughter. The epitome of their shared love, meant to seal their unspoken vows.

She had, unlike Quentyn, not been surprised when the maester announced her pregnancy. After all, even Quentyn's enhanced moon tea wasn't foolproof, and she did conveniently forget to drink it several times. Truthfully, she didn't know why she did it. It was just this primal feeling, to have something to seal their love with. It would never be marriage vows for them, but a child?

It was selfish of her, she knew. She regretted it deeply when she saw Quentyn's shocked face and was prepared for him to be mad at her. Instead, he brought her a tight hug and said that he loved her, but he would understand if she chose not to keep the child.

Not expecting this, she told him that she was completely fine with this arrangement. In fact, he was the one needing convincing, not her. And just like that, their fate was forever sealed. Their defiance and their love had given them a daughter, with the name of a strong princess of Dorne.

In truth, Quentyn only agreed with her because he thought it to be a beautiful name, but all the same. She would cherish their child whatever her name, although her cousin's suggestions were a little more original. Did a single member of House Martell bear the name Callisto, Cleopatra, Artemis or Athena? She couldn't remember. But they settled on Aliandra. Traditional, but much better.

She saw Aliandra slowly close her eyes again, and she sighed deeply.

"Maybe we should put her back in her crib, she needs some rest, and she'll likely be hungry when she wakes up. We might want to call the wetnurse." Quentyn proposed.

"You're right." She said, handing her back, Quentyn slowly lifting the sheets up, bringing Aliandra back to her crib.

"You can go back to rest, you know." He leaned back on the bed, looking at her with that snarky gaze of his. "I'm sorry to have woken you up."

"Don't be." She replied swiftly. "I'm there for you, just like you are for me. And besides, I can't expect you to be strong all the time."

"What do you mean?"

She laughed.

"Oh, love." She brought a hand to his cheeks, staring at his brown-gold eyes. "I know you put on this facade with everyone else where you make out to be unfeeling, strong, and calculating. But I like you as you are. When you're with me, you don't put on the mummer's act, and I love you for it nonetheless."

"I'm not that strong, you're right." He conceded. "But Dorne needs strength at the moment, and I must play the part. There will be time for weakness when our vengeance has been satisfied and our plans completed."

"I agree. And you are just that." She smirked. "You know, we're the same, you and I. It's just that I choose not to play a mummer's act, and you have to."

"With a few differences, still." He winked.

"True." Nymeria blinked. "You are smarter than I, braver than I…"

"I'm not brave."

"Are you not? Yet you fought Daemon and Gerold, still."

"I was reckless."

"Bravery and recklessness often come hand in hand. It takes courage to stand for yourself. It takes courage to make the hard decisions you did. Any lesser man would not have gambled so much on Lorch. Any lesser man would not stand up to my father or your uncle."

"I didn't take many risks."

"Perhaps not, but it was a brave move still. You can keep the facade, love, but to me you're just like I want you to be, and that includes your weaknesses, as your love includes mine."

He kissed her gently on the cheek, then.

"I'll love you for who you are, always. Don't ever change, my sweet viper." He winked.

"I never will, don't you worry." She forced his head down to level with hers and brought her lips to his once again. Was it the thousandth time? She didn't know. But what she knew was that it felt so good every single time.

This time, their embrace lasted longer, their lips staying sealed for gods knew how long. Yet Quentyn didn't really budge or try to force anything else. Indeed, he would not touch her until the four moons had passed.

However, their embrace was interrupted by a door opening. She didn't mind, it was probably the wet nurse coming to feed Aliandra, and she was used to running into unfortunate situations. She, therefore, continued to dig her hands between the curls of her lover's hair, until a very familiar voice caused them to instantly break their embrace.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Quentyn immediately stopped kissing her, his face going slightly pale, before whispering to her.

"Please don't tell me it's who I think it is."

She spared a look behind her cousin, only to see her father fully dressed, leaning against the door, with a wicked smile on his face.

"Uh…" she trailed for a moment before flashing a small, embarrassed, smile. "I think you know who it is."

"Shit…" he whispered.

"Don't worry." She said as she reached to bite his ear. "I won't let him hurt you. Well, not your pretty face or your manhood anyways, I like those parts very much. But the rest…"

He chuckled nervously, before slowly turning his head, settling on the bed beside her once more.

"Uhm…" he started. "U…Uncle Oberyn. How kind of you to come visit. You really should have sent a raven."

"Well, if I had sent a raven, it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?" he mischievously grinned.

"I suppose not." Quentyn was slightly sweating now. "Why have you come?"

"Well, my daughter gave birth and I wasn't going to miss the birth of my first grandchild." Nymeria's father stared daggers into Quentyn who was visibly panicking. Sensing this, she brought her hand to his.

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