The Mountain was defeated but at what cost? Oberyn went to Kingslanding for Joffrey’s wedding weeks ago. He was supposed to join the small council, to find the Iron Throne’s weakness, help Dorne to seek revenge for Princess Elia. But everything changed when Joffrey was poisoned. Tyrion was forced into a trial by combat, Oberyn saw an opportunity and he took it as Tyrion’s champion. To everyone’s surprise the Mountain was killed, justice was served but Oberyn was brutally maimed. Severe concussion, a ruined eye, several broken ribs….he was barely alive, deep in a coma.

Maesters in the Red Keep refused to heal him, they only stopped the bleeding, dosed him with milk of the poppy, then asked the Dornish delegation to bring him back to Sunspear.

Oberyn left you in Sunspear with a promise, that he would send for you once he had settled in King’s Landing. That he would be fine. You believed him, he had never broken a promise before.

So when you saw him lying in the carriage, a bloodied ruin of the man you knew, your world collapsed. The maids later whispered, “M’lady screamed, a sound we’ve never heard before. Then she just… went silent. Not a word since.”

They weren’t exaggerating.

After Oberyn was carried into your shared chamber his body broken, his face barely recognisable, the maesters worked for three days and nights to stabilise him. Sewing flesh, setting bones. When they were done, you dismissed them all in silence. Maids, servants, guards, even the maesters themselves, you shove them out one by one.

Then you locked the door behind you. You kept vigil by his side, day and night, tending to him alone. You barely slept, barely moved, consumed by the task of keeping him alive. Ever since that day you never spoke a single word, not to anyone.

And when Oberyn finally opened his eyes, when the spark of life returned to him, you let go.

You unlocked the doors. The maids rushed in. But you… you slipped away into the side chamber, where silence clung to you like a second skin. You remained there, completely mute, seeing no one. Only a single maid was permitted inside, to bring you meals and change your bedsheets.

Oberyn heard the truth from that poor girl, who trembled as she explained your state. He understood. Your silence was the wound he had inflicted.

As soon as he could stand, though still leaning heavily on a cane, he made his way to your door.

He knocked once, gently, reverently.

“My love,” he said, voice hoarse with guilt and longing. “It’s me. May I come in?”