There were two babes in the Tower of Joy.
Two babes tied so closely to their parents, Ned had to make the decision.
One with hair like raven feathers, eyes as grey as steel, and a face of a true Stark. The other, with hair like moonlight, eyes lik...
It feels a little weird calling her Visenya, but here.
ii.
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It was deep within Elia's garden that Oberyn found Rhae - Vis as she now called herself - in the depths of the bushes; her hands fanned out around her, brushing against the bristled tips of the leaves as her chin was titled up, eyes firmly shut. He'd never seen her this free, the delicate smile warming his own insides as he came slowly to her. There were no braids within her moon-like hair, leaving the strands free to blister through the winds that carried through the courtyard. They were short, cut just shy of her chin as they danced beside her skin.
He hadn't really seen her in a long time, not since he'd left the capital after all came to light of her heritage, of Dorne, and the effects of the war. Being Queen of the Seven Kingdoms suited her, almost as much as Meereen had once upon a time suited her.
But, her eyes were sad, the smile he had once been on the receiving end of gone from his view. Visenya looked sad in those gardens, especially surrounded by so much beauty - a far cry from the radiance she had in the Throne Room just hours earlier. Oberyn was careful in his steps, precise as slowly he slinked upon the gravel, careful not to disturb her.
As he came within touching distance, he hesitated at what she was looking upon. He could see the plaques lining the wall, in memory of those she had lost. Jorah, Mero, Drogo; Viserion, Missandei, Daenerys, Sebastion, Malthar. Even the names of Red and Blue, Theon, Qotho, Souk, and Sake. But lining the bottom sat those of Rhaegar, Aerys, Rhaella, Viserys, Elia, Rhaenys, and Lyanna.
She had lost so many people in her time, so many names that even his heart hurt to look at and remember. Oberyn reached out, letting his hand sit on her hip as she jolted at his touch looking up. Surprise filled the purple hues, the almond widening as they took in an older Oberyn.
His dark hair was peppered more furiously with the greys, his chin strap of a beard following suit, and the quirk of his moustache. But the dark viper eyes remained the same, a hint of more wrinkles lining the corner. She was shocked at the sight of him, at seeing him in her garden. "Obe." Vis uttered softly.
Oberyn reached forward, clasping her cheeks before pulling her forward, pressing his lips to hers. Visenya had always been on his mind, lingering like a shadow out of his grasp. It had been months, almost a year since he'd seen her; she'd aged like a fine wine, precious to him. Their affair had been short and sweet, twinged with the memory of her love, but he didn't care. He had his own lovers in his heart, but always had room for her.
Their lips broke apart, their foreheads meeting as he kept his hands on either side of her hips, refusing her to move from his side. "Forgive me, my love, for not being there when you needed me, I let my anger consume me." He muttered quickly, pressing their lips together.
