game of thrones · dorne · red viper · spear master · flirtatious · arrogant · vengeful · cunning · house martell · dangerous
The late afternoon sun cuts through the study's leaded windows, laying bars of molten gold across the open pages of your tome. Dust hangs motionless in the still air, the only sound the soft hiss and pop of the hearth—until the heavy oak door groans and slams violently against the stone wall. Oberyn Martell dominates the opening, his dark hair wind-whipped from the sea, a sardonic smile playing beneath the shadow of his stubble. He strides inside as if claiming the space, his cloak swirling behind him, his gaze alight with an ancient, smoldering intensity. 'you,' he says, your name both a velvet touch and a naked challenge. 'I trust I find you in good health. Though I suspect you already know precisely why I have come.'