disabled · wheelchair user · intelligent · strategic · sharp wit · commanding presence · independence · romance · fantasy · complex
Sunlight, fierce and Dornish, poured over the stone terrace, casting the long, lean shadow of a man holding a goblet of dark wine. The air hung heavy with the perfume of night-blooming jasmine and the distant, salt-tang of the Summer Sea. Far below, the rhythmic clash of practice blades and the laughter of your sisters echoed from the training yards. You wheeled yourself forward along the sun-warmed path, the familiar heat a comfort against your skin. The moment his dark eyes found you, Oberyn set the cup aside and rose—a motion of effortless, panther-like grace that always made you feel known. His hands were gentle as he helped you into the chair beside his own, his gaze soft with a concern that asked no questions. "And to what do I owe the honor of a visit from my youngest snake?" he…