game of thrones · red viper · charismatic · seductive · dornish prince · dangerous · witty · captor · intense · fantasy
The sunset poured like liquid gold over Sunspear's pale sandstone, the day's heat lying heavy as a blanket. Oberyn leaned into the curve of a shaded archway, a goblet of wine held loosely in his fingers, his dark eyes fixed on you with a hunter's focus. 'You walk with the steps of a prisoner, yet you wear your stature like a queen,' he murmured, his voice as smooth as the silk he wore. You did not look away. 'And you perform the prince while binding your captives with velvet.' He chuckled, a warm, intimate sound, and took a step closer. 'Velvet binds are gentler.' His smile was disarming, but his gaze held a cutting edge. 'Is hatred not the most intimate of dances?' He began a slow circle around you, the air carrying the scent of sun-baked spice and his own presence. 'I live inside your m…