Chapter 22

Chapter 22: Martell Arrival 

…

Elia Martell POV

A few weeks later

The gentle rocking of the ship stirred me from sleep, the familiar creaking of the timbers. It had been a moon since I'd set out on this voyage, leaving Dorne behind in search of a future I wasn't entirely sure I wanted.

My mother had been relentless, spinning webs of alliances to find me a suitable match. 

I sat up in my cabin, the scent of salt air mingling with the faint perfumes still clinging to my clothes, remnants of the grand halls I had visited. 

Suitors, I thought bitterly. Each left a more bitter taste than the last.

Except one.

The memory came flooding back—Oldtown. The Hightower rising above the city like a sentinel, and Oberyn charming everyone in sight as we were welcomed by Lord Leyton and his children. 

Among them was Baelor Hightower. He was kind, thoughtful, a stark contrast to the pompous lords I had been paraded before.

I remembered how his words about the Citadel held me in rapt attention, how I had allowed myself to imagine a future by his side. For a time, I was almost half in love with him.

But then came that fateful feast in Oldtown's great hall. Baelor beside me, speaking of manuscripts, his voice soothing amidst the laughter and chatter. Oberyn, ever the mischief-maker, teasing me about my growing fondness for him.

And then it happened.

A low sound, unmistakable—a fart, escaping from Baelor's chair. Silence fell over the hall. I turned to look at him, his cheeks as red as Dornish wine. Beside me, Oberyn snickered, then burst into uncontrollable laughter. The whole table followed.

"Baelor Breakwind!" Oberyn howled, tears in his eyes. "A man with such airs!"

I tried—gods, I tried—to maintain my composure. But I couldn't hold it in. Laughter bubbled up from me, unbidden and unstoppable. After that moment, I couldn't look at Baelor without remembering, and the spell was broken.

Perhaps it wasn't meant to be, I had thought as we sailed away from Oldtown.

The memory faded, leaving me with a bittersweet smile. Oberyn had ruined it, of course, as he always did. But maybe he had saved me, too. No suitor had ever felt right. Not even Baelor.

I yawned as I stretched my arms out, blinking sleep from my eyes. Rising from my bed, I reached for my brush, sighing. The useless servant who was supposed to help me with my hair and dressing was undoubtedly off on another escapade with my brother.

Oberyn, my mischievous little brother, though I loved him dearly, seemed to live without restraint. I sometimes wished he'd exhibit more control, especially when it came to boundaries.

As I brushed my hair, I caught my reflection in the small mirror hanging on the wall. Olive skin, brown eyes, and the dark hair of House Martell—Dorne flowed through me like a current. I considered myself beautiful, though not the most beautiful in the realm, and I was content with that. 

After tending to my hair and washing my face, I began the tricky task of dressing myself. It wasn't easy without my maid, but I managed. 

After finishing, I headed out of my room. As I made my way down the hall, I paused, hearing sounds I was all too familiar with—moaning. I winced, recognizing them immediately. 

One set of noises came from my mother's cabin, where she was undoubtedly with her lover, and the other from Oberyn's quarters.

I sighed deeply, pressing my hand to my forehead in frustration. Of course, Oberyn was with my maid. Again.

It was hard to be surprised anymore. Oberyn had always been reckless, living life on his terms, rules and expectations be damned. 

My mother wasn't much different. I loved them both, but sometimes it felt like I was the only one in this family with any sense of propriety.

After shaking my head in exasperation, I decided it was best not to linger on it. Heading toward the deck, I sought the comfort of the sea breeze. The ship swayed gently beneath me, the vast ocean stretching as far as the eye could see. 

The wind tugged at my loose strands of hair as I stepped onto the deck, the air crisp and refreshing against my skin.

The horizon was endless, the sun just beginning to rise, casting a soft, golden glow over the water. It was beautiful and calming, a welcome reprieve. For a moment, I stood there alone, soaking in the serenity.

Moments later, as I stepped onto the deck, something in the distance caught my eye. I squinted, trying to make it out. It must have been a truly massive rock because I could see it from here. That large, looming shape could only be Casterly Rock. 

Beside it, sprawled along the coastline, was the bustling city of Lannisport, its whitewashed walls gleaming in the sunlight.

We'd probably arrive in less than an hour.

"Finally," I muttered, a hint of celebration in my voice. Soon, my little brother could leave my maid alone and amuse himself in the brothels of Lannisport instead. At least then I wouldn't have to deal with his constant mischief.

…

Third POV

The Martell family had all gathered on deck, the salty breeze tousling their hair as the ship approached the shores of Lannisport. 

Princess Nymeria of Dorne stood tall and regal, her dark hair pulled back elegantly, watching her two children with a bemused smile. 

Elia, the elder of the two, now eighteen and of marriageable age, was the picture of grace, though her face was marred by irritation. Oberyn, only a year younger at seventeen, stood beside her, his mischievous grin broad as always.

Oberyn flashed his sister a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying his ability to provoke her, but Elia wasn't biting. She crossed her arms and stared out at the sea, her silent treatment a familiar defense against her brother's antics.

The maid, flustered but intrigued, lingered nearby, casting fleeting glances at Oberyn, who smirked, reveling in the effect he had on her.

Princess Nymeria observed her children with a knowing smile, her eyes softening as she watched the exchange. Despite the teasing and bickering, she knew the depth of affection between them. 

They had been each other's constant companions, always finding a way back to one another no matter the argument. It was this closeness that reassured her in moments like this.

"Ahem," Nymeria cleared her throat gently, interrupting the tension with a playful arch of her brow. "My little vipers, we are now in Lannisport. Please behave yourselves."

Elia gave a small, reluctant smile at their mother's words, while Oberyn shrugged, still grinning. The Martells had a reputation to uphold, but that never stopped Oberyn from pushing the boundaries.

As their ship glided into the docks of Lannisport, the towering banners of the golden lion greeted them. 

They stepped onto the bustling harbor, the wind carrying the smell of salt and the chatter of merchants. With their royal status confirmed, the guards bowed low, granting the Martell family entry into the city, the land of lions welcoming the serpents of Dorne.

As they walked through the lively streets of Lannisport, the Martells couldn't help but marvel at how different the city was from their home in Dorne and the bustling grandeur of Oldtown. Here, everything seemed to move at a quicker pace, the energy of commerce filling the air. 

Food stalls lined nearly every corner, merchants called out to eager customers, and the streets thrived with people—nobles, common folk, and even children running around, playing games in the alleyways. Business was booming, and it was clear that Lannisport was a city on the rise.

Oberyn's curiosity got the better of him as he stopped by a stall offering strange, new foods. The sign above read LFC—Lannisport Fried Chicken—and the aroma of sizzling oil and spices was irresistible. After a moment's hesitation, he handed over a few silver coins and took his first bite of fried chicken.

"Oh my gods, hmmm," Oberyn moaned, his voice betraying his astonishment at how flavorful it was. The crispy skin, the juicy meat—it was a revelation. Without a second thought, he ordered more, receiving a large bowl filled with golden fried pieces. Paying the vendor, he dashed back to his sister.

"Elia! Elia, you have to try this!" he exclaimed, holding out the bowl eagerly.

But Elia, along with her mother, her maid, and the Dornish guards, was already exploring the culinary delights of the city. 

They had stopped at another popular food stall—Hamburger King or HK for short—where Elia was savoring a beef patty nestled between two soft buns. She took a bite, and her eyes widened with delight at the explosion of flavors.

Princess Nymeria, not to be left out, was enjoying her own discovery—a sausage wrapped in a warm, doughy bun. She smiled to herself, savoring the simple yet delicious street food as she watched her children experience the city in their own ways.

It seemed Lannisport had much more to offer than they had expected. The Martell family, used to the refined tastes of Dorne, found themselves happily indulging in the city's food culture. This visit, they realized, would be far from dull.

…