Chapter Text
The funds offered to you for the dig by Sunspear University are contingent on your accepting a teaching post there for the length of the expedition. You hesitate, initially. You prefer to keep your focus on a dig when you’re in the midst of one. You decide, ultimately, that the opportunity is just too good to pass up. You’ve been trying to raise funds to explore the sunken palace at Sunspear for years, and this is the closest you’ve ever come.
Your friends that live there do warn you before you arrive— things are simply more laid back in Dorne. It’s always been the way of the province, the jewel of the southern kingdoms. In the old days, it was known for lush green gardens despite its arid climate, flourishing trade, a free society, savvy princes, and passive dissent against their kings further North.
Despite evolving with the rest of the modern world, the Dornish cities have retained much of their old-world charm. After the earthquake that sank portions of the Old Palace and destroyed much of what’s now commonly considered the old city, most homes and businesses were rebuilt with the original designs, but with structural reinforcements that looked to any future calamities. The cobble-stone streets force cars to drive a little slower; the odd motorbike and motor scooter zip along, but even they seem to move at half the speed that you’re accustomed to seeing in King’s Landing or Winterfell.
Your accommodations are set between the college and the dig site. The apartment is large, and has a balcony that affords you an excellent view of the runes of the old city and the harbor. You lean against the balcony railing, frowning as a soft, warm breeze ruffles your hair.
Impatience roils through you. You’re desperate to start work on the deserted and overgrown Water Gardens, and the few cavernous rooms of the Old Palace that are still above ground. You know that nothing can be done just now—your team has yet to arrive in the city, and you’re still waiting on the final clearances to come through from the Dornish Antiquities Council. They’re one of the reasons it’s taken so long for any work to be done on that part of the city, but you’ve been pleading your case to backers and Councils for years. They know the passion that you have for the history of Dorne, and for Sunspear.
You sigh heavily, turning away from where the sun is sinking and casting an orange glow over the city, convincing yourself that the Gardens can wait, that they will be there tomorrow.
You don't know that there is someone walking them, just then.
--
Oberyn often walks there on evenings like this, when the air is balmy and sweet. On some days, he returns purely for the sight; on others, he swears he can hear the laughter of his daughters, and the patter of their running feet. He knows that it’s impossible, that they’re long gone and that he’ll never be able to relive the past. He spends a lot of time in the runes of old town— far more time than he will admit even to Ellaria. It is not a secret that he means to keep, but he knows that his lover would likely tease him for his sentimentality.
Of all the time that the two of them have spent in the world, of all the places that they have visited in passing and or settled for decades, they always return to the old city.
In the beginning, as the years began to drop away, as their loved ones began to pass and they remained unchanged, Oberyn and Ellaria couldn’t stand to stay in Dorne.
Their immortality was the result of a desperate act, done in a moment of fear.
Even now, Oberyn remembers a splitting pain in his head, darkness, and then a teary and furious Ellaria kneeling over him, hissing, “You can’t leave me alone in this world.”
She had traveled far, taken drastic action and enlisted a priestess of the Lord of Light from the Iron Islands. It had taken a great deal of sacrifice from Ellaria; she hadn’t heeded the warning that the priestess had offered.
What is dead may never die.
Oberyn strays toward the ruined edge of the destroyed palace and peers out over the golden waves, the sun sinking low in the west.
Ellaria will expect him home soon. He’s giving a guest lecture for her graduate students for the last day of their summer course, discussing the philosophy of the ancients, and she prefers going over his notes beforehand— though she knows that he’ll go rogue regardless of what he’s prepared. He always does.
And never mind the fact that they’re closer in age to the ancients than they are to their students these days.
--
“What kept you?”
“I went for a walk,” He tells her, eyeing his paramour. Ellaria looks no older now than she did the day they left Casterly Rock.
“From the university?”
“And around the Old Palace.”
Ellaria glances at him from over the rim of her glasses (they’re for show; she doesn’t need them, but Oberyn does love how they look perched on the bridge of that straight nose, over those hawk-like eyes).
“You’ve chosen a good night to look it over.”
“Yes, it was lovely out,” Oberyn agrees, walking over to the dinner table. He leans over her and rests his hands on her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her head.
“I mean this,” She reaches out and lifts a folded newspaper from the table. Oberyn recognizes the Sunspear University logo. He takes it from her, glances over the title.
“...’Dornish Snakes Favored to Win State Championship’?”
“Beneath that,” Ellaria chuckles.
“...’Archaeologist to Explore Old City and Sunken Palace’,” He reads, a frown pulling at his lips.
“Apparently she just came off of the expedition that unearthed and restored complete sections of the Wall and the Wilding settlements nearby. It says she’ll be teaching at the university as well,” Ellaria lifts the glasses from her nose to rest atop her head, “She seems quite the expert.”
Oberyn hums, dropping the paper on the table, “It’s surprising that the council has allowed anyone to excavate any of the old town.”
“Mm.”
“...I wonder what strings she had to pull to get approval.”
“Well, you’ll be able to ask.”
Oberyn is quiet for another moment, watching Ellaria and she looks over the paper she’s grading.
“...Oberyn,” She murmurs.
“Mm?”
“Give me your notes for tomorrow.”
Oberyn rolls his eyes, leaning in a little bit and brushing a kiss to her jaw, “Won’t you trust me, just this once?”
Her lips curl into a smile.
“Of course I trust you, lover,” She insists, reaching up and cupping his chin.
“And I you, you darling woman.”
“I know you do.” She kisses him softly, leaning away before his tongue can tease between her lips.
Ellaria smiles, pats his cheek, and orders, “Now fetch me your fucking notes.”