Falls

Ooc: I kinda just made up their most recent history as I went so let me know if you’d like to change anything!

—

It was dark when Oberyn left.

The sun had set long ago. The dark stallion had stood numbly in the waves until even the moon began to leave him; until, finally, he worked up the courage to wade into the black sea. Stars still hovered in the deep night sky above him, but they did nothing to illuminate the water. It didn’t matter, though. The Warlander had not planned beyond simply getting away. This land had held him prisoner for far too long.

This was only a taste of freedom, he knew. It did not matter if Damascus followed him physically; his twin would live forever in Oberyn’s head, no matter where he went. Still, it was worth a shot. He had lingered in the land of his father, long after the tragedy, and it had caused him nothing but pain and rage. The outside world could cause him pain and rage as well, and it would not be worse. At the very least, it would be a change of scenery.

But even this small luxury cost him dearly, he discovered too late. The ocean was a hungry beast, and the land behind him had a better grip than Oberyn could have imagined. As seawater rushed into his burning nostrils and poured down his throat, the soot-black stallion knew only the pain of heartache as his family’s home disappeared below the milky light of dawn.

—

Sharp pain roused Oberyn from a deep black well, and the blissful numbness of sleep was abruptly ripped away. He was lying in the shade beneath a tree, comforted by the cool breeze that slipped over his brine-bristled fur. That breeze had picked up into a brief gale, pulling the branches around above him and sending the sunlight unubstructed onto his beaten and aching face. It pierced his closed eyelids, causing him to growl and screw them shut against the stabbing sensation in his skull from the harsh light. After a moment, the wind subsided, and the branches fell into place again over him. Oberyn slowly relaxed as the blessed shade returned, and he sighed once before drifting into sleep once again.

But his rest was not to be. Again, the sun found its way through the shifting branches of the tree whose shelter Oberyn enjoyed, and slipped right into the stallion’s aching brain. He growled, suffered until the shade fell over him once again, and blinked his eyes open.

He could not remember arriving here, but he must have been awake when he washed up. He could hear the ocean, but a grassy dune separated the waves from himself; he must have climbed up here of his own accord, but had no recollection beyond his decision to leave the night before. Where was he? How much of a miracle was it that he was alive?

Or had he just washed back up onto the shores of his home, having entirely failed at his journey before it had even begun?

This was a nauseating possibility, made worse by the scent of another stallion nearby. It was too washed out - or maybe his own nostrils were too burned by the seawater - to identify. Oberyn struggled to his feet on unsteady legs, willing his eyes to focus. This place was not familiar, and soon the scent faded into the background. There were others here in addition to the washed-out scent. This seemed to prove to Oberyn that he was in an entirely new land after all, and had not been dishonorably spat back out on the shores of his home by the sea. Still, his heart raced. He was homesick despite his success, terribly so, and his father’s strong face swam behind his eyes more vividly than ever, accompanied by the dark features of his twin.

He would never escape his past, he knew. But he had to at least try.

Shakily, Oberyn turned inland. The island was forested and shady, and a white-capped stream ran into the sea nearby. The sooty stallion followed this stream, searching for its source, pausing at one point to drink from its fast-moving waters. As he did so, a dreadfully familiar scent crept up on him. Oberyn froze.

Was he imagining it?

Slowly, he turned his dark, chiseled head to address the feeling of eyes boring into his back.

”Brother,” he growled. ”Don’t tell me you’ve come to haunt me here, too.”