Percy was up to his balls in Arianne when the invitation arrived.
"You've been called for dinner, Ser and Ladies. The prince is asking for you."
The voice might've belonged to Nyla. It was hard to tell, muffled by the door. Percy held his hands over Arianne's mouth, thrusting into her from behind. On all-fours, she dropped her head lower, allowing his cock to spear deep and strike true. A warble leaked between his fingers.
Tyene was behind them on the bed, curled on her side dozing. Therefore, answering fell to Percy.
"Prince Doran?" he yelled.
"Prince Oberyn," said the servant. "He requests you in his room on the hour. All three of you, if you please."
"Tell him we'll be there!"
"I'll give him the word without mistake."
Percy listened for footsteps fading down the hall and either heard or imagined them.
He pulled his hands away from Arianne's face, pressing his palms onto her shoulders before burying her chin in Tyene's pillow. Arianne yelped.
"Strike true, my knight!" Arianne screamed.
Percy grunted. Arianne rolled her hips back on him while he stabbed his cock forward. In the depths of her, Percy's cum fired out. It was hardly the first load she'd taken since they started, which was why Arianne contented herself with just a low moan.
Percy rolled her onto her back. Without pulling out, he pushed his aching cock, now barely hard, in and out of her, adopting a rhythmic missionary position that let them converse.
"Did Oberyn say anything about dinner on the way to the castle?"
"He said little about any topic, and nothing about that," Arianne said. "Uncle was conspicuously quiet. I believe he'd come up with an idea."
"What do you think it is?"
Arianne petted Percy's cheek.
"I've no idea. But I'm looking forward to hearing it."
Not long later they were forced to get dressed. There was no time for a full bath, though Tyene had a small basin that let them at least rid themselves of their sex stench. Percy dressed in the clothes he arrived in, while Arianne and Tyene garbed themselves in dresses. Tyene's was modest, showing little skin, enough to convince anyone who didn't know better that she was a good girl.
Arianne's dress was flashier, maroon with frills and a fair view of her cleavage. The girls leading him, all three arrived at Oberyn's quarters only a little bit late.
"So they arrive! I wondered if you would ignore the servant entirely."
Oberyn was sitting at the end of a circular table big enough for many people. His daughters Obara and Nymeria were there, as well as a girl with dark skin who looked like a high schooler.
Summer Islander, Percy thought. He'd seen a handful in Wylmouth. They were seafaring people who traded relatively extensively in Dorne, given it was one of the closest civilized lands to their home. Summer Islanders were among the best sailors and archers in the world. Their distinctive Swan Ships sailed faster than any boat in the world, so long as they had wind to catch their sails.
This girl was somewhere between thirteen and fifteen, around the age of most Camp Half-Blood campers. Her skin was a bit darker than Arianne's, while her nest of curly hair was as dark as the room's shadows. She had very bright eyes, brown and inquisitive, yet the familiar sharpness was there. Regardless of her skin, her eyes marked her as Oberyn's daughter as surely as any test.
The man himself was at the head of the table, if a round table could be considered to have a head. He was the closest to the open doors which led onto a balcony, this one bigger than the one that his brother's quarters boasted. The stars were starting to come out. They ate late in Sunspear, just another way to sidestep the heat of the day.
There were doors on either side of this main room, leading to multiple bedrooms. Instead of a just place to sleep, this was more of a home inside the palace. From one of those side doors, a woman appeared.
"They're to bed," she said.
She came to stand beside Oberyn, who encircled her hips with an arm. She stooped down to kiss him, trading a peck before she straightened.
"No trouble, I hope," said Oberyn.
"They are your daughters," the woman said. "Trouble is guaranteed."
"But you are used to weathering it."
"That I am."
Arianne and Tyene went to take a seat, so Percy followed them. The woman he hadn't met sat down at Oberyn's side. She smiled at Percy, tilting her head. Her eyes were very slightly uneven and she had a large nose. Yet when she smiled, you couldn't take your eyes off her. Percy got the feeling that when she frowned, she'd look like a completely different person. There was something about her that just made you look.
"It's good to have you back, Arianne. I pray my prince wasn't too harsh on you."
"I'm here, Ellaria. I count that as too harsh," Arianne said.
"It was done out of love, dearest Arianne. You know that." The woman turned to Percy. "And who is this?"
"An oddity," Oberyn said. "I spoke of him earlier. The one who swings his sword like a force of nature."
Obara, the oldest and burliest of Oberyn's daughters, frowned at the description. The look she was giving Percy reminded him of the riding with Oberyn's soldiers. He was being sized-up. Not the way Tyene had done, either.
"He's the one who saved Arianne, then." Ellaria smiled as brightly as the candles around the room. "Thank you. Her loss would have been felt from Sunspear to the Red Dunes, and nowhere would it have ached more acutely than this room."
"I'm not lost!" Arianne said. "Please, eat. You're making me feel like an ill-omen."
Oberyn snorted. He said nothing, though. The meal prepared for them included steaming pork. The only thing hotter than the fire it had been cooked over was the sauce drizzled across it. If Percy hadn't grown up as a New York kid snacking on food from all over the globe, his taste buds would've caught on fire.
To go with the meat were vegetables. Carrots and some other kind of root vegetable mixed and tossed in a rich oil. There was bread, small and round and heavy, with butter to be smeared on it. Percy never ate like this in Wylmouth. To wash all of it down, wine had been brought for the table.
"True introductions are due, I think," Oberyn said. The slice of pork on his plate was half-eaten, drenched in an extra helping of sauce. "Give the girls an example, dearest."
Ellaria cleared her throat, still smiling.
"I'm called Ellaria Sand," she said. "My daughters are asleep, I'm afraid. Elia is nine and Loreza is soon to be one, with their sisters between them. This hour is too late for them but I'm sure you'll meet soon. Just call me the prince's lover. It's what I'm most known as."
"The one who caught the snake's heart," said Nymeria, smiling. "The charmer who performed the impossible. You keep my father calm— hardly a mean feat to be glossed over."
"You speak of your father as if he's a beast," Oberyn said.
"Only because he's fond of behaving like one," Nymeria said. Because she was speaking, the next introduction fell to her. She turned to Percy with a smile that reminded him of girls from Cabin Ten. Aphrodite's daughters had a flirtiness that some of them never turned off. "Hello! I hope Arianne spoke of me. My name is Nymeria, the second eldest of my father's lot."
"Nice to meet you," Percy said.
Nymeria just smiled, giving no answer.
"Obara." The broadest of Oberyn's daughters crossed her arms. "Warrior of Dorne."
Her voice was as deep as her arms were thick. If Oberyn had Clarisse's speed, Obara had her build.
The table's attention moved to the youngest one. Sarella took a moment to notice, her eyes having been glued to the wine bottle, which Ellaria last placed on the opposite end of the table.
"I'm Sarella," she said. "Is it true that you fought our father?"
"We sparred," Percy said.
Obara's eyes narrowed.
"Who won?" Sarella asked.
"My spear ended the bout in two pieces. My pride, I'm afraid, was shattered into many more." Oberyn tilted his head to the side, wrapping his arm around his paramour. "It will take extensive work in order to drown my sorrows."
Percy might've thought he was talking about wine, if not for the look he sent to Ellaria. She gave him a similar look back— smiling, yet passionate. Percy was starting to see how she was the first to keep the wild prince as hers. He wondered if the eight Sand Snakes might turn into nine.
A giggle to Percy's right made him look.
Tyene was leaning forward. She had taken the wine bottle in her hands, looking at Percy's half-empty glass.
"We're already acquainted," she said. "Arianne introduced us."
A strange hush fell over the table as she poured Percy a glass. He took it and drank, ignoring the wide-eyed looks from some around him.
"You're a brave man." Nymeria's tone gave away that perhaps brave wasn't the word she really meant. "Most would not touch a drink given by my sister. Even if she meant no ill, the things she lays her hands on…"
"What, her poisons?" Percy swirled the glass in a circle. "If there was poison in here, I'd know."
He didn't explain how. He wasn't asked, either, despite looks ranging from disbelief to dismissal depending on who you looked at.
Tyene giggled again. "See? Someone understands me. Your words wound me, Nymeria, to suggest that I would poison someone accidentally!"
Arianne put her hand on Percy's forearm. When he looked at her, she smiled. "With so many introductions given, shouldn't you offer your own?"
Percy faced the table. He wasn't sure where to look, so after letting his eyes drift over Ellaria and the Sand Snakes, he turned his head toward Oberyn.
"I'm Perseus Jackson," he said. "I was named for an ancient hero from my homeland, but friends usually just call me Percy. I've been in Dorne for about two years now. I had an amazing teacher who taught me more than I deserved, and even with that, I'm still learning. If I do something wrong, I'm relying on everyone to point it out."
"You're a noble?" Nymeria asked. "From distant lands, swept in from the sea?" She must've heard more of his story from someone, either Arianne or Oberyn. "Why, cousin, you've stumbled into the sort of story a bard would pen!"
Arianne did her best to hush her with a glare.
"I'm not exactly a noble," Percy said. "It's… complicated. My father was important. My mother wasn't, at least not in that way. My last name comes from her."
"A bastard? Or something similar?" Ellaria brought wine to her lips, sipping softly past a smile. "We're two of a kind in that case. My mother was a commoner, my father was of house Ulmer. Since my mother didn't have a name to give, I was granted the title of Sand. You'll find that each of the kingdoms have their own term for bastards."
If she was bothered about her status, she didn't show it. And why would she be? She was eating dinner with her lover, the prince of Dorne, surrounded by his daughters. Whatever pressures existed elsewhere in Westeros, this place — Dorne, or this room — was immune to them.
"Was it your father who taught you the blade?" Oberyn asked.
"No. I learned from a teacher. He was like a maester, but for warriors."
"A Master-at-Arms." Oberyn nodded. "A prestigious role overlooked too often. The one who will train a house's future is as important as the heir himself."
They ate more, talking about small things. Sarella inched her chair around the table, moving slowly, sneaking glances at the wine bottle. Percy held back from laughing so he wouldn't give her away. Tyene talked about a new snake brought to her from Essos and how readily it shared its venom, until she started to describe the poison's effects and was told by Ellaria to wait until dinner finished.
Obara discussed training with her father, asking him the next time they would spar. She was looking at Percy when she asked. Nymeria shared gossips she had heard from someone called the Fowler Twins. In her words, Ynys Yronwood was due to marry a member of House Allyrion, House Vaith feared the year's harvest would be dangerously small, and Mors Manwoody insisted he'd fallen for a smallfolk woman. The names were gibberish to Percy. Only Arianne seemed interested in the stories, although Tyene lent them half an ear. She was preoccupied pouring Percy more wine each time his cup showed a dent.
At one point, she leaned close to make sure that she didn't spill. Her lips traveled by Percy's ear.
"Your seed rolls about in me," she whispered.
Percy bit down on his teeth to keep from coughing. Tyene's face never changed, and no one at the table was any the wiser. Sarella made her boldest move yet, scooting her chair multiple inches in one go.
"There was more to discuss," Oberyn said. He had finished his food but not his wine, leaning against the table with one elbow. "A matter with slightly more weight. There's a reason that I called for you, Percy."
He'd known something like this was coming. Percy chewed his last bite of pork, setting his utensils down on the edge of his plate.
"I spoke with my brother before this. He had spoken to you just prior. It was quite the state you left him in." Oberyn's dark eyes twinkled with candlelight. "Despite his disorientation, he has decided to let you stay. You are Arianne's sworn sword now, from what I hear, but that is not a true position. Unless she plans to use you as a manservant, there's little she needs a knight for. It will be a very long time before she leaves Sunspear again."
Arianne scowled, crossing her arms.
"It seems to me," Oberyn said, "that you are a man with a lot of time. I propose something to fill it. Become my squire."
Percy roughly understood the gravity of the suggestion from Dyanna's lessons. If he hadn't, the reaction of the Sand Snakes would have clued him in.
"Are you sure, Father?" Nymeria asked. "It's not as if you can only take one in your life. Yet, it's a valuable position. There are houses that would grant many favors for that right."
"And if I accepted, I would be forced to put up with whatever lordling paid the most handsomely. I think not. In a knight, I look for skill before name or wealth. Although in this case, the arrangement would be a bit different."
He tapped his fingers on the side of his glass, focusing on Percy.
"With a blade in your hand you've little to learn. I can't teach you more, unless you're determined to take up the spear, which I imagine unlikely. Instead, I will teach you other things. To be a knight is half warfare and half politics. By your own admission you know little of manners, the relationships between houses, or who you ought to be close to and who to keep at arm's length for fear of a blade in the back."
Percy shrugged. Oberyn was right. "Are you offering to teach me?"
"Yes. I won't treat you as a manservant, the way that the younger squires are treated. I imagine that my darling niece would be duly cross with me. It will give us a justification to train together." Oberyn smiled savagely. "Our clashes will be the whetstone that keeps my spear sharp. When I've imparted enough for you to stand on your own, I swear to knight you without fuss. My name behind you will mean no one can question your position as Arianne's personal sword. What do you think? It's a generous offer, in my estimation."
"Over generous," Obara said. "How good are you with a sword, truly?"
"Good enough," Percy said.
Oberyn laughed. "Yes," he said, "you will fit in nicely. So please, give me the answer I wish to hear."
Percy looked at Arianne. She nodded softly. He looked at Tyene, too, out of curiosity. She poured him more wine. He should've seen that coming.
"Give me the chores," Percy decided. "Have me polish your armor. Send me on errands. I'll stand out less that way."
He never enjoyed being seen as a chosen one, special treatment included. Appearing from nowhere and landing a spot so close to the Martells would already make him enemies. If it looked like he wasn't being worked the way he was supposed to, things would blow up faster.
"Then…?" Oberyn said.
"I'll do it. I'll be your squire… Err— Ser?"
His uncertainty made Oberyn laugh loudly.
"Yes, we've much to teach you. Much indeed."
Sarella's hand snaked out, using the distraction to grab the wine where it sat in front of Tyene. Ellaria was looking right at her, which Sarella couldn't see with her back turned.
The girl tilted the bottle back and drank. She got through two swigs before her eyes widened. She slammed the bottle back on the table, staring at it with disgust.
"That is what it tastes like? And all of you drink such things by choice?" she said.
The table burst into laughter. Percy realized he was far from the only one who'd watched her sneaking toward the wine. Ellaria laid a hand on Sarella's shoulder.
"Your curiosity is your greatest strength," Ellaria said. "I did not wish to stifle it. But you are fourteen now, and flowered. You could have just asked."
Sarella's disgusted face mingled with embarrassment, the shame of a girl realizing her delicate plot had been both noticed and allowed. Her lips curled.
As laughter continued around the table, Percy sipped the wine that Tyene kept pouring for him. He was starting to acquire the taste for its sour bite. He listened to the laughter and looked out the window, where the Shadow City had come alive and alight just the way he'd been told it would. A salty breeze carried the sounds of the market in through the open doors, leading Percy to inhale deeply.
Yes, he decided. This wasn't a bad place to be. Not a bad place at all.