Chapter 4

"There's something on your mind, Prince Oberyn," Azaerys asked as he battled with the Dornishman in the courtyard, wielding a training spear.

"You are full of flaws, Your Grace." The man smiled as he spun around and tried to smack him in the side, but to his surprise, the Targaryen managed to block him. "But you are very fit." He commented.

"Spear isn't my weapon of choice, Prince. Which is why I have asked you to accompany me to train with this weapon. They say you are one of the finest." He smiled. "What's on your mind?"

"I am sure you have already guessed it." He laughed as he trickly moved and unarmed him by making him lose his balance.

Azaerys sighed as he tried to pick up the spear, but had to lean back when Oberyn attacked him, preventing him from arming himself again.

The Young King protected himself by using his armplates, bore the strong blows that bruised his forearms, and then caught the Dornishman off-guard when he charged forward and tackled him to the ground.

Oberyn winced as he landed on the ground, but just when he was about to get back to his feet, he heard the Targaryen pick his spear, and instinctively blocked the blow that was aimed at his head.

With his experience, he found a way to return to his feet, and their sparring session continued.

"You are strong," He could not help but comment, and Azaerys smiled at him. "I am curious about the Daynes." He finally said, and the Young King nodded his head.

"Their mother was an illegitimate Targaryen, daughter of Daeron Targaryen and Viserra Velaryon."

"Oh," Oberyn nodded his head, and now that he had received his answer, he lost all interest in the subject.

The Dornish Prince was amazed at how Azaerys kept up with him for an entire hour but was even more amazed when he started sparring with Arthur Dayne right after their session.

The Young King had not lied when he said that swords were his weapon of choice.

Arthur and he were wielding practice swords in both their hands as they ruthlessly fought, and it was clearly not a spar.

Oberyn always knew that the Sword of the Morning was the finest there was, but seeing the Azaerys keeping up with him, made him question his own skill with the blade.

His form was not perfect, but his speed and strength made up for it, and for a boy who was not even fourteen namedays old, he was ridiculously skilled.

His scholarly body could easily trick any warrior into taking him lightly, not knowing how much strength he had in him, and any carelessness would cost them their life.

Oberyn liked clever fighters, but he loved the clever fighters who were also strong. Azaerys was more than that. He was clever, strong, and also fast, very fast.

Inadvertently, he glanced at his niece, whose eyes were shining in brilliance as she watched her Intended spar with the finest Swordsman the Westeros had seen.

She was clearly fascinated by him, and by the looks of things, she was obsessed with him too.

He laughed at how she was fawning at him and then stood up to go and visit the Pleasure House that he had seen yesterday on their walk around the town.

This place was so peaceful and beautiful that one would never want to leave, especially given how the Targaryens had made it their home. And he wondered if this peace and happiness had weakened Azaerys' resolve to reclaim the Iron Throne.

He hoped not.

As for Azaerys, when he finished his spar with Arthur, with his body aching all over, he made his way to his room, followed by the Dornish Princess.

He did not ask her what she wanted or why she was following him as his mind was occupied with something else.

The Knights at the start of the Hallway bowed to him, and when he reached his door and opened it, he finally snapped out of his thoughts.

"Are you interested in spears or swords, Princess?" He asked her as he invited her inside.

Arianne was surprised to see how lavishly his room was decorated with gold, silver, and wood both dark and light.

It was a room fit for a King.

"I am not much of a fighter, but I like using daggers. Nymeria taught me how to use them, and my uncle taught me the art of poisons."

"I see," He smiled. "You should learn to fight."

"Why, Your Grace?" She curiously asked and the mischievously smiled. "Do you prefer girls who can fight?"

"I do." He said and turned to look at her. "Your weakness could harm me in the future."

The smile on his face made her blush, and she nodded her head.

She was barely twelve, and given that she was a short person, she had to raise her head fully to look at his face.

Azaerys found her quite adorable and gently patted her head.

"Your Grace, have you ever kissed a girl?" She asked, already fidgeting a little.

"Yes. Why?" He could tell what his intentions were and leaned close to her face.

She did not say anything and tried reaching for his lips, and he allowed her.

As soon as their lips met, she did not know what to do, and so, he guided her through it.

She gasped in his mouth when he effortlessly picked her up and then sat her in his lap on the bed, a mistake on his part as she soon started moving her hips, grinding against his hardening member.

"You haven't bled yet, Princess." He reminded her, making her blush as she realised that her attempts to seduce him were seen through.

"My cousin Tyene hasn't either, but that doesn't stop her from enjoying the pleasures," said Arianne.

"Is that so?" He smiled against her lips and gently kissed her again. "Someone's coming."

"Send them away..." Her words were caught in her throat when the door was knocked and then opened without him making a call.

She quickly jumped off his lap and sorted out her dress, but the one who had come in had already caught them in the act.

"Allyria is searching for you. Go." Elia smiled at her niece, who blushed hard and nodded her head before running out of the room.

The older Martell closed the door, and then locked it, which made Azaerys inquisitively raise his brow at her.

"I need to speak with you about something."

"Yes?" He asked, and her eyes searched for some wine in the room, but there was none.

Azaerys was not fond of drinking, and Ashara did not drink much either.

"Ashara is still a maiden."

"Yes. We are getting married on my fourteenth nameday." He reminded her and she nodded to him.

"Ser Willem informed me that you refused to get educated in the art of lovemaking."

"I don't like whores, Elia. He suggested that I bed an experienced girl, who could teach me everything."

"Every High-Born boy is required to learn how to handle a lady, Azer. Why do you think the Houses turn a blind eye when their Heirs sneak into brothels?"

"I already know what to do." He chucked.

"I am sure you do. I know that you have seen things in your Dreams. But watching and practising are two very different things. You should know that you haven't improved much with Spears, despite all the knowledge that you have. Wasn't it the same when you picked up the swords?" She pointed out, and he could only sigh at her words.

She was not wrong, but he was not going to sleep with some whore. He felt repulsed by them.

"A Lord must know how to please and take care of the needs of his wife. It's even more important for a King. You should know that. You have seen the pasts of people. What happens when the men lack in the bed?" She lightly asked, and he furrowed his brows at what she was saying. "A girl always remembers her loss of maidenhead. Always. So, the memory and experience must be very special."

"I am not going to bed a whore."

"There are maids..."

"Elia," He sighed. "I don't want to sire bastards. Even with all the cautions, it can still happen."

"Take a Royal Mistress then, like those Highlords of Valyria used to. Their children were given different names. Isn't that how house Celtigar and Velaryon were formed?"

"I can not do that until I am married and already have True-Born children. It could cause confusion regarding my line." He said and stood up to take off his robes, but not minding his nakedness in front of her.

Elia stared at him as he took off everything except for his pants, and then sat down at the chair to wipe his body off the sweat with a wet cloth.

The bruises on his body made her wince, especially those on his arms. He was always cruel to himself in his sparring sessions, and she did not miss how his body was slightly trembling due to muscle fatigue.

She approached him, grabbed the wet cloth from his hand, and then stood behind him as she helped him clean his back.

"There's something else I want to talk to you about."

"Yes?"

"I need a lover." She was very straightforward with her words. "I am still young, one and thirty, and I have my needs. Now that Aegon has grown up and I don't have to look after him all day, I have too much time on my hands."

"Is there someone you like?" He sighed and asked.

"Not really, but now I know whom I want."

He frowned at her words.

"I want you as my lover." She did not keep him guessing and made it clear. "And you don't have to worry about siring bastards with me. I can not have another child."

Azaerys stayed silent at her words and saw right through her intentions.

"You don't have to do this, Elia."

"I know, and I know you would rather bed me than some whore." She smiled, and her hand trembled a little. "Don't refuse me. It has taken me a lot of courage to say this to you. I am afraid I will never be able to meet your eyes if you turn me down..." She stopped and placed her hands on his shoulders as if to steady herself.

His silence started eating her heart, and just when she felt her tears brimming, he stood up and turned to face her.

He was taller than her, much taller, and he gently pulled her chin.

Their lips met, and she was relieved. He had accepted her.

And despite all her experience, she was the one who was nervous to initiate the intimacy.

However, the hesitation only lasted for a few minutes, and once he helped her out of her robes and took her to the bed, Elia took charge.

The two bodies fought with passion that one had long missed, and the other had never experienced.

Azaerys was already tired after his sparring sessions, and as Elia grew bolder and bolder, he was helpless in her arms.

And God's be his witness, it was way more difficult than learning swordsmanship, but definitely way more interesting and pleasurable.

It was an experience for him that he would forever remember, and it was the day he found something just as interesting as magic.

Tired and spent, he fell asleep in her embrace, and Elia too was tired after their indulgence.

He was inexperienced, but he was stubborn, and despite his tiredness, he had managed to make it a very pleasurable experience for her as well.

With his warmth against her skin, sleep whispered to her as if there were no longer any worries in her life anymore. And she slept more soundly than she had ever done in the past few years.