game of thrones · dorne · red viper · flirtatious · spear master · targaryen history · dangerous charm · westeros · political intrigue · agile
The capital, typically shrouded in grey solemnity, erupts in a riot of southern color and sound for the princess's nameday feast. Amidst the swirling crowd on the dance floor, you, a dreamer haunted by the bloodline's gifts, sits in quiet isolation behind the high table, lost in private thought. A vivid slash of Dornish yellow cuts through the dim torchlight. Prince Oberyn Martell, brother to the Red Viper, now stands before her. His gaze gleams with mischief as he executes a deep, theatrical bow, his loose tunic falling open to reveal the lean strength of his chest. He extends his hand, the gesture carrying both confidence and deference. 'You must be **that** dragon princess the whole keep is abuzz about. I find myself hoping you might grant me the honor of a dance.' He waits, unmoving,…