Chapter 23 - The Viper In the West

273 AC

Oberyn Pov 

As the ship sailed into the vast sea, drawing closer to the illustrious city of Lannisport, I found myself making my way toward my sister's chambers.

Upon entering, I beheld my sister sitting alongside our mother.

"How lovely to find two of the women I cherish most," I drawled, my mother rolling her eyes while Elia simply giggled, welcoming my kiss.

"Why is it that both of you are having supper without me?" I inquired, teasingly.

"You are mistaken, brother. I did come to call you for supper, but you were quite occupied," Elia replied, her tone light.

"You are correct, sister," I admitted, recalling the strenuous activities that had preoccupied me.

"Mother, I would like to propose a toast," I announced, pouring myself a cup of wine as my mother looked on.

"A toast to finally ending this dreadful tour of ours, in search of some prissy suitor for my beloved sister's hand," I declared, prompting Elia's laughter but earning a less amused glance from our mother.

"Oberyn, I'm tired of your incessant behavior," Mother scolded me, her tone stern.

"You've embarrassed every suitor we've entertained in the search for a husband for your sister, especially the Hightower lad," she continued, her frustration evident.

"You mean Baelor Breakwind, Mother?" I interjected, unable to resist a jest, while Elia stifled a laugh, clearly unbothered by Mother's disapproval.

"Oh, Mother, you can't blame me for that failed betrothal. How could I help it if the idiot farts in the presence of me and Elia?" I remarked, memories of our encounter with Baelor flooding back, unable to suppress a smirk at the absurdity of it all.

"Mother, don't listen to Oberyn. I promise he'll be on his best behavior when we meet the Lannisters," Elia reassured, her tone soothing, earning a pleased smile from Mother.

"Well, I, for one, am eagerly anticipating the encounter with the monstrous son of the Hand of the King," I remarked, a hint of dark amusement lacing my words. "They say he is Lord Tywin's Doom," I added, relishing the anticipation of meeting him.

I believed the king would be quite pleased with Tywin's bane given the events of the last day of the previous year's tourney. 

The memory of the king's drunken indiscretion, taunting Lady Joanna about the toll of nursing her children on her breasts, lingered vividly in my mind. The poor lady was left embarrassed, much to the twisted delight of the king's sycophants.

Rumors swirled that Lord Tywin was so incensed by the incident that he contemplated resigning the very next morning. Yet, it was said that Daemon, intervened, preventing such a drastic decision.

As I reflected on these events, a weighty silence enveloped us, punctuated only by the gentle sway of the ship. 

As the news of the Lion's bane reached us in Oldtown, it descended upon the city like a tempest, stirring whispers and speculation among its inhabitants. Lady Joanna, wife to the formidable Lord Tywin Lannister, had given birth to a child that defied all expectations.

Rumors swirled of Lady Joanna's ailing health, casting a shadow of doubt over the joyous occasion. Yet, despite the dire predictions, she emerged from the ordeal miraculously unscathed. The resilience of both mother and child left the city astir with awe and curiosity.

Intrigued by the extraordinary circumstances, I delved into the matter further, uncovering Lord Tywin's meticulous preparations. His foresight was evident in the flurry of activity that ensued, as he sought knowledge and counsel from a multitude of sources. Orders for an extensive collection of books on childbirth and dwarves, alongside the summoning of a cadre of maesters, reflected a calculated readiness for the unforeseen.

The atmosphere crackled with intrigue, the air alive with whispered speculation and anticipation. It seemed as though Lord Tywin had anticipated the extraordinary event, though the motivations behind his preparations remained enigmatic.

The air crackled with intrigue, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation for the events yet to unfold in Lannisport.

It seemed as though he was prepared for what was to come, though the reasons behind his actions remained a mystery.

"Oberyn, I do not want you to create a ruckus when we are in the west," Mother admonished, her tone firm.

"Your brother has already caused enough turmoil when he brought thta woman from Norvos," she continued, referencing Doran's marriage to lady Mellario, a decision he made with unwavering determination, despite opposition. I remembered the fierce passion Doran displayed when he declared his intentions.

"Very well, Mother," I acquiesced as she left the room, likely seeking respite in sleep.

"Are you excited to meet your future husband?" I teased, nudging Elia's shoulder playfully.

"Don't act coy with me, Elia," I continued, knowing full well the dynamics at play.

"We both know the other suitors were just distractions, and Mother's main goal was to secure a betrothal for either you or me with one of Lord Tywin's twins," I remarked, revealing a deeper understanding of our family's plans.

"You're quite astute when you put your mind to it, Oberyn," Elia acknowledged with a hint of admiration.

"Thank you for your kindness, sister," I replied, returning her smile warmly.

"Come, let us retire for the night. We'll be arriving in Lannisport tomorrow," Elia suggested, and we settled down on the bed together.

"Goodnight, Oberyn," she bid, to which I responded by enveloping her in a hug, cherishing the bond between us.

 -----

As our ship glided into the port, a contingent of knights and men-at-arms from House Lannister stood ready to greet our arrival. Stepping onto the dock, we were met by the imposing figure of Ser Kevan Lannister, brother to the formidable Lord Tywin Lannister.

As Mother exchanged pleasantries with Ser Kevan, my gaze wandered towards the bustling city beyond. Soon, we were escorted to Casterly Rock, the seat of House Lannister. Along the way, I engaged in conversation with another of Tywin's brothers, Gerion Lannister, who was closer to me in age.

Despite my attempts to glean information from him, Gerion remained tight-lipped. Undeterred, I tried to shift the topic, inquiring about the location of the city's brothels, much to his amusement. Though our conversation yielded little in the way of useful information, it served to break the tension of our journey.

Casterly Rock loomed before us in all its grandeur, confirming the tales of its opulence. The sheer abundance of gold was staggering, living up to the saying that "Tywin shat gold." I couldn't resist quipping to Gerion about whether even the chamber pots were fashioned from the precious metal, much to the annoyance of my sister, who shot me a disapproving glance.

Lord Tywin stood regal and imposing in the great hall as he performed the customary gesture of offering bread and salt to Mother, a sign of hospitality and peace. Despite his powerful presence, his visage betrayed signs of weariness, as if the weight of his responsibilities had deprived him of sleep for many nights. Yet, his aura of authority remained undiminished.

After the formalities, we were escorted to our quarters where a lavish feast awaited us. It was there that I reunited with the Lannister twins, Jaime and Cersei, who had noticeably grown since the last time I had seen them.

Though the dishes served were extravagant, there lingered a palpable tension in the air, casting a quiet solemnity over the table. Conversation was sparse, even from the twins, whom I remembered had been inseparable from Daemon during last year's tourney.

As the supper concluded, Mother took the opportunity to request an audience with Lady Joanna, as they were both ladies-in-waiting for Queen Rhaella. Lord Tywin granted her request, and Mother departed to meet with her friend.

In the midst of the evening's proceedings, I couldn't help but notice a few serving girls stealing glances in my direction. With a knowing smile, I acknowledged their attention, anticipating a busy night ahead.

 -----

The past two weeks had dragged on monotonously, with little to break the routine apart from sparring with the Lannister men-at-arms or indulging in the company of willing servants.

Currently, I found myself in the training yard, observing the Lannister heir as he honed his swordsmanship. After Jaime finished his swings, I approached the young lad who might one day become my brother-in-law.

"You did well, Lannister," I commended him, eliciting a bright smile from the boy.

His expression turned determined as he responded, "I have to practice more to become greater than Barristan the Bold," a noble aspiration that echoed Daemon's own ambitions during last year's tourney.

"Rhaegar will become stronger than Barristan the Bold," Cersei interjected, her voice dripping with conviction as she walked alongside my sister.

"What a load of horsesh—" I began, but Elia's stern gaze silenced me before I could finish my sentence, warning me against tempting her wrath.

I recalled firsthand the prowess of Arthur Dayne, soon to become the Sword of the Morning. Despite my own efforts, I had yet to best him in combat. Yet in last years melee Rhaegar somehow managed to defeat Arthur Dayne, a feat that left me incredulous.

"A damn joke," Daemon had muttered later that evening.

Sensing the tension, I quickly held my tongue, realizing the twins were scrutinizing me, waiting for me to finish my thought before Elia diverted their attention elsewhere.

"Do you want to see him?" Cersei's voice drew my attention, her gaze fixed on me.

"Cersei, we cannot," Jaime interjected, but his sister paid no heed to his protest.

"Well, I certainly do," I replied, intrigued, as Cersei led us to the nursery where the infamous babe lay.

There were guards stationed outside the room, but Cersei asserted that Father had granted her permission to visit the child. When they hesitated, she challenged them to confirm with her Father themselves. With that, they relented, allowing us passage.

Upon entering the room, I spotted a cradle, and the gentle cooing of a baby filled the air. A wet nurse hovered nearby.

"Leave," Cersei's voice rang out, commanding the woman to depart, and she hastily complied, leaving us alone with the newborn.

As we made our journey from Oldtown, the only whispers that filled the air were tales of the monstrous abomination birthed by Tywin Lannister. With each passing mile, the rumors swelled, painting a grotesque portrait of a creature with a head disproportionate to its body, a tail twisted between its legs, claws ready to rend flesh, and a singular red eye glaring with malevolence. The whispered descriptions promised a horror beyond comprehension, and my anticipation grew with each step closer to witnessing this infamous beast.

But as I finally laid eyes upon the monster, my heart sank. There was no monstrous aberration before me, only a babe with a slightly oversized head and limbs too delicate for the weight they bore. There were no claws, no fiery eye, no twisted appendages—just the innocence of infancy, embodied in a tiny pink form.

I couldn't conceal my disappointment, the letdown evident in my voice as I turned to Cersei. "That's not a monster," I murmured, unable to hide the disbelief coloring my words. "That's just a baby."

Cersei's response was chilling, her grip on the child's tiny member bordering on cruelty. "He nearly killed my mother," she spat, her words laced with bitterness and resentment. And then, as if to punctuate her disdain, she pinched the tender flesh so fiercely I feared she might tear it asunder, until Jaime intervened, his touch a gentle plea for mercy.

But Cersei's resolve remained unyielding. "It doesn't matter," she declared, her voice tinged with a mixture of anguish and contempt. "Everyone says he will die soon. I hope they are right. He should not have lived this long."

Before I could respond, the heavy doors of the chamber creaked open, revealing the Lady of Casterly Rock for the first time since my arrival. Her once regal demeanor seemed weighed down by exhaustion, and her fragile health was evident in the weariness etched upon her features.

She approached the crib where the infant lay wailing, her movements slow and deliberate. With a tender touch, she calmed the babe before passing him to the waiting nursemaid. Then, with a solemn gaze, she turned her attention to her daughter, her expression stern as she delivered a swift slap across Cersei's face.

"Cersei, you will not speak to your brother in such a manner," she admonished, her voice carrying a mix of disappointment and authority, while Cersei's tears flowed freely in response to her mother's reprimand.

Before any further words could be exchanged, I witnessed Lady Joanna falter, her strength faltering as she stumbled. Reacting swiftly, I reached out to catch her as she began to lose consciousness.

"Fetch the maester!" I called urgently, cradling her limp form in my arms.

I found myself seated in Lord Tywin's solar, flanked by my mother and the formidable lion himself. Tywin's concern for the fragile state of his wife's health was palpable, casting a somber shadow over our gathering.

"Prince Oberyn, I extend my gratitude for your presence and support for my wife," Tywin acknowledged, his voice betraying a hint of worry.

"I merely did what i thought was the right thing to do, Lord Tywin," I replied respectfully, meeting his gaze evenly.

"Daemon always speaks highly of you, and now I understand why," Tywin remarked thoughtfully, a rare flicker of something resembling warmth in his steely demeanor when he spoke of Daemon. A mischievous thought crossed my mind, tempting me to tease the formidable lord, but I held my tongue.

"Now, onto other matters," Tywin continued, his tone shifting back to business. "Princess Loreza, Joanna and I have agreed to the match you proposed. When Jaime comes of age, he will marry your daughter," he declared, his words carrying weight and finality.

My mother's satisfaction was evident, though she remained composed, awaiting Tywin's next words.

"However, I must decline your proposal for Cersei and your son, despite his merits," Tywin announced firmly, his decision unwavering.

My mother inquired about the intended match for his daughter, prompting Tywin's revelation with a glint of ambition in his emerald eyes.

"The Crown Prince," he declared, his gaze steady as he met my mother's eyes.

"Very well," my mother conceded gracefully, though I could sense the gears turning in her mind.

"Your son will accompany us to Dorne," my mother stated, to which Tywin nodded in agreement.

"After what my wife confided in me during my absence from Casterly Rock, I believe it's for the best that the twins spend some time apart," Tywin explained cryptically, leaving me to ponder the meaning behind his words.