The day of the Red Viper's arrival is marked by a late winter snowfall. Elia stands admiring it from the window of your breakfast room when the messenger's knock sounds at the door: the Feathered Kiss has docked, and Prince Oberyn Martell will be arriving with two of his daughters shortly.
Elia rolls her eyes. "Of course he's going to make us rush," she says, but the thought of seeing her brother still makes her smile. In actuality there is not that much work to be done – you order the main rooms of the castle to be hastily cleaned, a bedchamber prepared, extra beds added to the nursery, and so on. Elia plans meals with the head cook. Of course, both of you must reevaluate your outfits – you change your plain black coat for a fancier one, embroidered with silver thread – and when you meet Elia in the nursery you see that she is in the same dress, but with a changed hairstyle and added jewelry. Your wife is sitting down with Rhaenys in her lap, combing your daughter's hair. It is still only shoulder-length, but very fine and silky, and it curls up pleasingly at the ends. Your silver hair and Elia's black have mixed to give Rhaenys a light brown, but her dark eyes and olive skin are her mothers' through and through. The nurses have gotten her into a flower-embroidered winter dress, with thick stockings to protect against the cold. As soon as she sees you, she lets out an excited squeal and slips off her mother's lap to greet you. Smiling, her mother lets it happen. Then she looks at you and her expression becomes annoyed.
"Papa! Papa! Up!" Rhaenys is jumping by your feet, holding out her arms; you indulge her and pick her up. With that pressing business taken care of, she then informs you, "Uncle Oberyn is here!"
"He's coming to the castle soon," you tell her. "Do you remember the last time you met him? You were very small." She shakes her head.
Elia approaches. "Rhaegar," she whispers, pressing close to you, "must you always dress like you're in mourning? This is a happy day."
"I can wear black and be jovial at the same time," you say, somewhat defensively.
"It makes you look like Aegon III."
"Aegon III was a good king, and if you count stillbirths, I've lost more siblings than him. I have the right to wear black if I choose." She purses her lips and you sigh. "I just like the way it looks, Elia." She lowers her eyes and lets it go, as Rhaenys outstretches her arms in the hope of being passed to her mother.
"What, tired of me already?" you say as Elia takes your daughter. "Where's Aegon?"
"Syalla has him," she replies, referring to the pale-haired, cheerful woman who served both your children as wet-nurse. "He was ready, so she took him out for a look at the sea. He likes that, she says." It is sad to say that neither of you have much to do with your young son. But, in all fairness, he makes it hard, what with hating to be touched by unfamiliar people. Or his parents.
"I see…I suppose we're ready, then." Putting an arm around your wife, the three of you walk out toward the entrance courtyard, where you will receive a much-anticipated Dornishman.
"Dragonstone has lost none of its beauty," announces a tall figure from the gate, "and neither, I see, have its inhabitants."
"Flatterer!" Elia calls. "Come here so we can see each other properly, and then compliment us." Snowflakes still fall lightly on the stone paving, but the temperature is not cold, and you estimate that the snow will start melting as soon as it stops falling. You inspect your goodbrother as he approaches, accompanied by one small figure and tailed by a gaggle of brawny porters carrying an intriguing collection of boxes, baskets and casks. Oberyn Martell is a tall, lithe man, whose glittering black eyes stare out of an expressive - and handsome - face. Beside him walks a girl in boy's clothes who seems like nothing so much as Oberyn, awkwardly squashed down by giant's fingers to a miniature size. You search a bit for the other daughter until you realize he's carrying her, a little dark-skinned babe somewhere between Aegon and Rhaenys in age.
"Mmm, yes," he says, drawing near. "Still beautiful," he kisses Elia on the cheek, "still beautiful," he winks at you, "and YOU," he reaches out and fluffs Rhaenys's hair, causing her to squeal, "are especially beautiful. No, adorable." He smiles. "Hello your graces. Sister, brother. May I present to you my eldest and my youngest: the brave and charming Obara Sand," he indicates the rough-looking girl by his side, who has mud on her clothes for some reason, "and the very young, very curious, Sarella Sand." The child in his arms is staring at you with that wide-eyed look that babies have, baffled by the entire world. Aegon is wearing the same look.
"My father is a liar," Obara announces. "I'm not charming."
"Maybe I'm biased," he admits, ruffling her hair. She is, he mouths at you.
"Hello again, Oberyn. And it's wonderful to finally meet you," you say to young Obara. "Your father loves talking about you. I've heard that you're learning the spear?"
She nods vigorously. "Yes, and I'm very good at it! I practice every day!"
"How tall you've grown, Obara. Perhaps you'll be bigger than your father one day," says Elia. Your niece's eyes glow at the thought. "Sarella's new," Elia continues, shifting Rhaenys so she can get a better look at her youngest cousin. "Wherever did you find this one, Oberyn?"
"On my way here, actually. This isn't the first time I've used the Feathered Kiss, and my relationship with the captain turned out surprisingly fruitful! She'll be coming back to Sunspear with me and Obara," he explains. "Hello there," he says to Rhaenys, who is looking at him cautiously. "You probably don't remember me, but my name is Oberyn. I'm your uncle. That's my sister right there."
Rhaenys shakes her head. "No, this is Mama."
Oberyn raises his eyebrows. "No, that's my sister."
"No," Rhaenys insists, "this is my Mama."
"No, that's my sister," Oberyn says calmly.
"This is my Mama! Go away!" Rhaenys cries, before burying her head in Elia's shoulders. Your wife gives her brother a mild glare; he is smiling.
"That trick isn't funny, Oberyn."
"Oh? You thought it was hilarious when I did it to Obara."
"He did that to me?" Obara says, shocked and offended.
"Yes," Elia says, "but it was only funny then because you tried to hit him and you were very ineffectual. All you've done this time, Oberyn, is made Rhaenys hate you."
"I don't know if I've hurt her as badly as that. But even if I have, perhaps our relationship could be mended with a special…" He leans in closely, so that Rhaenys is sure to hear him, and whispers: "…present?"
She peeks out at him. He raises one eyebrow, then the other, then lowers both…then raises them again. Your daughter giggles. Triumphant, Oberyn smiles. "Why don't we move inside?" he asks. "This present won't do well in the cold." Oh, that's right. Snow means cold. The living people here are probably rather uncomfortable. With some embarrassment, you agree and the entire party moves toward the keep – save for Obara, who grabs a certain basket from their pile of luggage and runs to catch up with you.
Elia sets down Rhaenys as you enter – her arms are probably tired, and your daughter can walk just fine. "Balerion!" she calls, and a black cat trots out of the shadows by the walls to join his mistress. Only a kitten when she got him, Balerion is now full-grown, though that doesn't prevent your girl from picking him up in an awkward jumble of tail and legs. "I'm going to have a present, Balerion," she tells him excitedly. He squirms and she lets him back down, laughing and chasing after him.
"Rhaenys," Elia calls, "That's not a good dress for running!"
"Your daughter's lovely," Oberyn says to you. "I'm tempted to take her with me when I leave."
"What," you say, "and leave one of yours here in trade?"
He smiles. "Jokes aside, though, have you considered fostering her at Sunspear? Arianne is close to her in age – only four years older, and she will have my daughters as companions as well. And you know Doran would take excellent care of her."
"We haven't thought of such things yet," you say. "I can't say whether we'll foster her or not."
"Of course, you have years to decide. But keep Sunspear in mind – Dorne is a good place for women. I think she would bloom, there." A tug on his coat makes him turn around.
"Can I put this down now?" asks a bored-looking Obara of the large, lidded basket she's holding.
"Is that Rhaenys's present?" you ask. They nod. "We should open it in the nursery, I think. I've arranged for your daughters to sleep there as well, by the way." You call for Rhaenys and Elia, and the whole group heads to the nursery, save the cat, who runs off on his own business. Your children sleep on the first floor, to avoid any danger of falling on the stairs.
"Can I open my present now?" Rhaenys asks as soon as you arrive. Her brother fusses, and Syalla mutters a "Begging your pardon" before sitting down in her favorite chair to breastfeed him.
Oberyn passes Sarella to you – you're a little taken aback, but thankfully she seems calm – before taking the basket from his daughter. He settles down on the floor, basket resting on his crossed legs. Rhaenys joins him excitedly. He undoes the ties on the lid and lifts it away with a theatrical flourish, allowing your daughter to look inside.
"What is it?" she says, leaning over the basket. Oberyn gently pushes her back and dips a hand into the basket. It comes out, draped in a sinewy rope of velvet black.
"This," he says, "is a young female black adder from the summer isles. It's a very rare coloring." Holding the snake in one hand, he gently guides Rhaenys's fingers to pet it with the other. "You have to be gentle. This is a living thing. And never pet a snake against the scales. You should always follow them, from the head to the tail." It's a beautiful creature, you have to admit. Its scales are a black so complete they hardly seem natural; it hangs on Oberyn's hand like a piece of material cut from a starless night sky, only the thickness of your thumb. As you watch, it raises up its stubby head, a black tongue darting out to scent the room. Your daughter looks absolutely enchanted, and even Obara is watching curiously. But, well…
"Aren't adders poisonous?" Elia says, apparently thinking the same thing.
"Well, technically they're venomous," Oberyn mutters.
Elia is not having it. "Oberyn. How badly can it hurt her?"
"I brought lots of antivenom, so you never need to find out the answer."
"Oberyn!" Elia marches over to your daughter and snatches her up, dragging her away from her dangerous uncle and present.
"But I want it!" Rhaenys cries as her mother comes to stand next to you.
"Your uncle needs to explain himself," Elia says sternly.
"Look, Elia, don't be hasty. I know I promised not to bring anything poisonous as a present – I was originally going to get her a python – but I was on Koj and the dealer had this rare snake and I thought that, given her coloring, she would look so beautiful with Rhaenys. Don't you think they would look beautiful together?" His sister continues glaring at him. "These adders are very non-deadly as poisonous snakes go. They only bite when seriously provoked! And their venom is rarely fatal, especially not if properly treated."
Elia objects. "My daughter is two! Her cat brought her a dead mouse the other day, and she tried to eat it!"
"Yes, her cat! You let Uncle Lewyn give her a cat – well, those are dangerous too, with teeth and claws. This snake only has the former."
Obara pipes up: "If the princess doesn't want it, we could give the adder to Nym or Tyene."
"No! I want it!"
"I'm not giving up yet," Oberyn tells her. He looks at you, hopefully. You haven't yet offered your opinion on this issue. You think:
[ ] Let her keep the snake As long as she's supervised, and gets medical attention in the case of a bite, there should be no problem.
[ ] This is a bad idea Small children and dangerous animals should never mix.
