Trust is not a shield I WLBITD

The Story goes on..

Benjamin hung motionless in front of Oberyn in the saddle, his weight unevenly distributed.. dead and heavy, every breath a weak resistance against the body that carried him. Blood had stained his robe dark, seeping into the leather of the saddle. Oberyn held him with one arm, firmly. Every step the horse took went through his shoulders, through his back, right down to his fingers. He felt how long the journey was, his guilty conscience, but also the confusion that accompanied him, gnawing at his heart... rumbling in his stomach. He felt that death was following them... that it was thirsting for Benjamin, eager to drag this man into its realm, but Oberyn could not accept this... he had to keep Benjamin alive, come what may. The streets grew narrower, the pavement more uneven, the horse snorted, slipped once and finally caught itself again. Oberyn cursed softly, but forced himself to remain calm, hastiness meant falling, and if he was careless now... then he would achieve nothing, apart from making death easier and perhaps even claiming them both. Behind them followed the second horse, Benjamin’s horse... a loyal companion who also did not abandon his owner, never letting either of them out of his sight. The path led away from the wide streets, uphill, past old gardens whose walls were too high to see into, windows with shutters closed. Houses that did not appear to be empty, even though no one was to be seen. His arm began to burn, he changed his grip, grimaced as Benjamin’s weight gave way briefly and then fell back on him. A soft sound escaped him, but he ignored it. Pain was unimportant, and he felt he deserved it... The horse slowed on its own as they reached a narrow courtyard. Oberyn stopped, sat for a moment, took a deep breath, and tried to collect himself. Then he laboriously dismounted, pulling Benjamin with him until his feet touched the ground, or rather, dragged along it.

"Almost there,"

Oberyn murmured.

“Just a little further...”

He carried Benjamin as if he were something fragile that could not defend itself at that moment, and he knew that Benjamin... if he were conscious, would do everything he could to endure the hardships alone, resisting his help. He might even refuse it, but this time his body was too weak, the light of life almost extinguished, and the makeshift bandage around his stomach almost completely soaked through with blood. Oldtown was a place that lay between Dorne and the Lannisters’ territory... a few more days on horseback and they would reach the gates of his arch-enemies, but that goal was unimportant at the moment... indifferent, even revenge on the men who had defiled his sister did not matter now. It was worry that boiled inside him, no longer the desire for revenge. Oberyn had traveled the world many times before, he had made valuable contacts, and here in this place lived someone he had once saved from the blindness of the nobility. He owed him something, and so he knew that this was the only place he would find help.

The Maestro's Citadel

Valo understood the body the way other people read maps, he knew how blood behaved when it took the wrong path, how pain distorted thinking, how closeness and touch could call back a body that had already begun to dissolve. He worked with herbs, ointments, needles, incisions, but also with things no Maester would openly mention. With ancient Valyrian techniques, with blood observation, with the memory of the body itself. He was powerful because he knew where the boundary lay and how to cross it. He could sustain lives that others would have long since given up on, but his healing required patience, pain, and absolute honesty about what had been destroyed. The maester had withdrawn because power and magic attracted attention, and the latter was forbidden in these lands... hunted and eradicated. And so he had taught the world to forget his name, but Oberyn... had not forgotten him. Once, Oberyn had saved Valo from the blindness of the nobility, from accusations, from envy, from the silent death that court intrigues meant. Valo owed him something, and now he would claim it. When Valo’s gaze fell on Benjamin, something darkened in his eyes. He stepped closer, placed two fingers on Benjamin’s throat, then on the blood-soaked bandage.

“He stays,”

he finally said quietly.

The otherwise skeptical man immediately sensed that he could not hide behind his walls, that this was not the time to reject Oberyn or to close himself off to the challenge of healing a stranger. It was trust that worked in that moment, something even more powerful and precious than magic in those times.

“Take him to the deep chamber.”

Valo led him silently through a narrow corridor, down beneath the house. Oberyn had to continue carrying Benjamin alone... the maester was older than many, yet he sensed that Oberyn was carrying his own guilty conscience in his arms, and so it had to be. This could not be taken from him. The room was hidden in the stone, quiet and evenly cool. The air was clean, with a hint of herbs, in the middle stood a simple bed made of light limestone, slightly inclined so that fluids could drain away. In niches in the walls lay carefully arranged instruments, glass, needles, blades, all within easy reach. Valo kept all his rooms simple so as not to be distracted... and even though flesh that was almost decayed had often been healed in this room, it did not seem threatening. Instead, the calm was palpable and helped Oberyn think more clearly again.

“The horses... can someone take care of them?”

he asked as he carefully laid Benjamin on the bed.

“My apprentice will take care of them... he is a warg, has a good rapport with animals. They will want for nothing,”

Valo assured him and Oberyn breathed a sigh of relief... because he knew what the stallion meant to Benjamin.

“And now, Oberyn... leave us alone.”

Everything in the prince contracted. He did not want to leave... did not want to leave Benjamin alone. To be honest, he even wanted to punish himself by watching the dying body bearing the wound he had inflicted upon it... or rather, what lay dormant within him had been brought back to life. But he realized there was no time for discussion. He nodded and spent the next few hours in the upper part of the house. Benjamin had opened himself for the first time... had allowed closeness. The bond between the two men had grown stronger, and the result of that now lay bleeding on a bed several stone steps away. Oberyn had been unable to control it, unable to restrain the god who used him, who had feasted on him for decades and, through Benjamin’s magic, through the returned kiss and the closeness, had gained enough power to completely take over the prince’s shell. Benjamin was powerful and therefore dangerous, finding ways to free Oberyn from this shameful misery... and at the same time, his shell was of interest to the god. Most dangerous, however, was the bond they had built between them. Trust .. there it was again, the only power capable of putting the god in its place.

The hours crawled by, each minute feeling like an hour. Oberyn kept sensing the powerful presence of that which tears a person from life, clinging to them, trying to drag them away. But then, as dawn broke... salvation finally came.

“He rests in a bed I don’t normally use, in a room I don’t offer to anyone. He has been separated from his body several times... and I have pulled him back. All of this will weigh more heavily on him than the injuries that are already healing. He will feel it and carry it with him. One can only hope that he is strong enough not to be seduced by the shadows of death that will now haunt him. You may go to him... but give him the chance to find peace.”

The prince nodded twice, sought out the room where Benjamin lay, and sat down on a wooden stool beside him.

“I’m sorry... I think we are truly forbidden to draw closer to one another. So be it... I will be your companion in the future, loyal. I will support you in your struggles, as a friend... if you can still allow that. And not as someone who longs for your hand in my hair.”

@Benjamin Libra.