Fallen

Kingslanding

"Stay," Oberyn smiled, not wanting her to leave for her first walk in months.

Arianne rolled her eyes, shaking her hand free of Oberyn's grasp. "Stop it." They were sat in her new rooms, eating lunch, as they had done for many days. He was a comfort to her, one that was not afforded now with Nymella and Penelope gone. Yes, she heard from them here and then but otherwise, she was alone. She missed her children and would sometimes sit in the nursery like an insane person, just looking at their cribs and clothes that had been left behind. She really was alone, and Rhaegar had made sure to remind her of the fact, not leaving his council for days on end.

She had no idea what they could be discussing but discuss they did. He had also fallen into some sort of depressive episode having returned from the battle and as much as Arianne tried, she couldn't seem to pull him from it. He would dream horrid dreams, waking him up in a sweat, and waking her in turn.

"Let him write songs and play his harp, come and dine with me." Oberyn had told her.

Oberyn took her hand back and leading her around the table. "No, you are here for a reason."

"Because you are my last friend right now," Arianne reminded him. Or perhaps she had reminded herself. He stood from his seat. "Oberyn," she wanted her voice to come out assertive, but it did not.

"Rhaegar has not touched you in seven moons, am I correct?" She blushed at his words and he kissed her cheek. "What a pity, that is not as a husband should be. If only you had listened to me and came to Dorne. We wouldn't be in this mess." He moved her long hair from her neck and kissed it. "Can you imagine ... waiting a year. Me, Prince Oberyn Martell, waiting a year for one woman," that accent.

Stop it now! Arianne quickly came to her senses and pushed herself from his hands. "I'm married now Oberyn and I love Rhaegar."

"And your love, it cannot be shared?" Oberyn quizzed, turning his head slightly to the side.

"I am carrying his child," Arianne reminded him, Oberyn looked away from her. He licked his lips. "We will talk later," his eyes flashed to her own and he raised his brow, smiling.

I am carrying his child and he killed for me. He sinned for me. She thought to herself. He made himself a Kinslayer, out of devotion to me.

"Come with me to Dorne when you have given birth."

"And my children?"

Oberyn shrugged back at her, "your sons will be second and third sons. It's Dragonstone or Dorne. I know which one sounds more exciting to me."

Arianne clenched her fists, Rhaegar had told her of his plan to place Aegon back first-in-line and she could fight it no more. About how his dreams had told him to do so, so she listened and agreed, what more could she do at that point? She was lucky to have princes and princesses for children. She couldn't afford to be proud.

"My sons have-,"

"A destiny greater than King's?" Oberyn neared her, his eyes, which had been coated with black liner staring daggers into her own. "I don't know who manipulates who more in your marriage. You, Rhaegar, the prophecy or his dreams. Don't tell me you are starting to believe it as well?" He tilted her chin up so she could look at him better. Arianne scoffed pushing his hand away. Oberyn kissed her, this one much slower and sweeter than the one he had placed on her lips many days ago. "Dorne. When the war is over."

She looked out of the balcony, noticed the sun was setting and not wanting to disappoint the Septa's of the orphanage by not showing up, backed away from him. "We'll talk later." She repeated, leaving the room.

...

It had been a moon since the battle outside of Kingslanding's gates and with Tywin assuring Rhaegar the Northern party was almost ready to throw their swords to the ground, he had eased up on Arianne's movements. That meant that Brandon was out there somewhere, having spent two moons silently waiting. Tywin had convinced Rhaegar to wait it out, no matter how badly the both wanted to storm the party.

She was now almost nine moons pregnant and laughed to herself as she was led to the small orphanage a little way outside of the Keep's gates. Baelor was convinced at the start of war, and would hopefully, be born at the end of the war. What a title he would have.

Arianne moved as fast as her legs could take her, not wanting to believe that she was starting to seriously consider Oberyn as a lover.

When she arrived at the orphanage, she spent some time with the Septa's that took care of the orphanage, writing down supplies they needed for the children and how often they needed them.

"And skills?"

"Skills your grace?" The Septa had asked her, frowning at Arianne's words.

"Well surly there must come a time when the children are old enough to leave on their own. How do they care for themselves if they are not educated on trades?" Arianne asked her.

The Septa looked to the floor nervously, "many do not survive an orphanage your grace. Starvation and illness find breeding grounds in their weak little bodies."

Arianne looked down at the children who ran about the humble room they called home. She scribbled something down on her parchment, closing the lid to her ink bottle and placing it back into the bag she had brought along with her.

"I will speak to his grace and shall see to you are properly provided for Septa Morgana."

The Septa smiled, curtseying awkwardly. "Thank you, your grace. Would you like to leave through the back doors?"

"Yes please," Arianne smiled at her, putting her bag over her shoulder. "I will wait for Ser Jaime by the door, will you call him? I'm afraid my feet are a little tired from the trip."

"Of course," she bowed and left Arianne to wave goodbye to the children and show herself out of the orphanage through its back door. She waited for Jaime, who seemed to be taking his time, and sat down one the sandy step. It was awfully quiet this way, she presumed it was so because of how strong the smell of urine and shit was. Maybe it wasn't favoured as a walkway by the city dwellers.

She sighed, placing her hands behind her and sitting comfortably. It must have only been seconds, but to her tired back and legs, it seemed like hours.

"Have you been waiting long?"

"Lord Bolton?" Arianne looked up to the pale face of Roose Bolton and covered her eyes as the setting sun shone and hit them directly. "What are you doing here?" It very quickly dawned on her that the Bolton's were her brother's bannermen and he should not have even been within the city. She stood from the steps, and back into the door that was closed behind her. "Where is Jaime?"

Roose shrugged, "how am I supposed to know?" He knew very well actually. Jaime was standing in front of the orphanage, like the fool he was. The Septa, who was talking to Arianne never made it to the front door, unfortunately. "You know people should really take to locking their doors. It's amazing how easy it was to just walk in and kill that Septa." Roose sighed, looking down at her. Arianne saw a deranged gleamier in his eye and tried to push past him, but he was too quick, or she was too slow, and he had stopped her. There was a scream from inside the orphanage, "they found her. We should leave before they find us," he said, taking her by her wrist and dragging her from the steps, and in the commotion, she dropped her bag.

"Let go of me!" Arianne shouted, clawing at his hand with her free one.

"Stop it," Roose winced, slapping her hand away. He saw the horse that had carried him into Kingslanding waiting for him at the end of the road and knew she would put up a fight all the way.

Arianne opened her mouth to scream for Jaime, or for anyone at that, but was stopped by Roose's hand, that met her cheek forcefully. Her ear began to ring, she had never been slapped with such force. She felt her body jolt back, "get on the horse, now."

She spat at him; how dare he speak to her like that?

Roose took her neck in his hands, pushed her up a stone wall and squeezed tightly. Arianne tried to get his hands from her, she tried to kick, shout out, pull his hair, scratch at his face until eventually, her eyes closed, and the world went black. He lifted her onto his horse, holding her as he pulled himself up and sat behind her.

Jaime heard a scream from the orphanage, rushing inside to see what had caused it. It was a Septa; the older woman lay in a pool of her own blood just steps away from the door. There was no time to think, he rushed around the orphanage, looking irrational but could not find her anywhere.

"She left by the back door, Ser," the voice of another Septa piped, she was bent down over the dead body.

He did not speak and ran past the frightened children to the door that led outside. Pushing it open, Jaime's heart sunk to his stomach. There lay the bag that Arianne had carried to the orphanage, he ran as fast as his feet could take him. First to the left and then the right, but there was no sign of anyone.

"Arianne!" He repeated, running through the streets of Kingslanding. "Have you seen a woman, a pregnant woman!?" He asked anyone who would answer, they shook their heads at him, scared of the Knight donned in gold.

How was he going to explain to Rhaegar that he had lost his wife?

...