Pedro Pascal Character Imagines

Paris in the Fall (Modern!Oberyn Martell)

Summary: Michelle goes to Paris for vacation and runs into a certain Dornish Prince.

Michelle walked down the cobblestones sipping a latte she'd gotten at a little café not far from her hotel. She'd always wanted to visit Paris in the fall. It was one of the things she wanted to do before she died.

The yellow and orange leaves rustled above her head. Some spun in little tornados above the ground as though a nymph was playing around.

Michelle had a few more places she wanted to explore before she left in a few days. She veered to the right to walk through the park she'd spotted days prior. As she walked, she snapped pictures with her camera. She let the camera hang around her neck as she took a moment to appreciate the view in front of her.

"It truly is beautiful, no?" an accented voice asked her.

Michelle turned around and saw a dark headed man wearing a yellow sweater and tight black pants. His beard and moustache were neatly trimmed and the ends of his hair curled softly. He was gorgeous.

"Yes, it is."

"What brings you to Paris? Business or pleasure?"

Michelle blushed as the man leaned forward.

His dark eyes burned as he looked at her.

"Pleasure, but not the kind you're thinking of."

The man chuckled and leaned back on the bench. "Beautiful and witty. A deadly combination."

"You're not from here, are you?"

The man cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy. "What makes you say that?"

"Your accent. You're not French, I know that much. I'm guessing Eastern European?"

The man stood up and walked towards her. "So not only beautiful and witty, but smart too."

Michelle blushed again.

"But you are correct, little one. I am from a small country called Dorne near the sea."

Michelle had never heard it, but he'd said it was a small country, but geography was never her strong suit. "What brings you to Paris then?"

"Pleasure." The man's voice was deep and had a rumble to it.

Michelle wanted his mouth near her ear, whispering sweet nothings or naughty thoughts. "What were you writing?" she asked, pointing to his abandoned notebook laying on the bench.

"Poetry. For my daughter, but alas..."

"You have a daughter?"

"I have eight."

Michelle's eyebrows shot up. "Eight? My goodness!"

The man laughed. "This is the longest I've been parted from my youngest daughters and I finding I miss them quite a bit. We've been writing letters back and forth."

"Letters? Why not Facetime? At least that way, you'd get to see them."

The man sighed. "I am quite old-fashioned, little one."

Michelle wanted to tell him she had a name, but she liked him calling her "little one".

"Tell me about them."

The man launched into tales about how he'd had each of his daughters.

His first daughter Obara was conceived with a prostitute and he took the baby in and cared for her. "Her mother showed up on my doorstep with Obara and thrust her into my arms. I couldn't just turn around and give her away."

Michelle put a hand on his arm and said, "You did what was best for her."

His second, Nymeria, by a noblewoman of his own country. "We met at an event my brother Doran hosted. Her family wasn't pleased, so in order to preserve her reputation it was agreed that I would take the baby."

"An event?"

"Doran and I are the princes of Dorne."

Michelle's mouth dropped open. "You're a prince? And you didn't say anything?"

"I just met you. I have to make sure you just like me for my money," he teased.

His third, Tyene, by a nun of all people.

"A nun!" Michelle gasped.

The man smirked at her. "How could she not fall for this gorgeous face?"

Michelle rolled her eyes. "You're so full of yourself."

His fourth daughter, Sarella, was conceived with merchant his country did business with. "I don't get to see her that often, but when I do she tells me all of her adventures. I've offered her a place with me and her sisters, but she loves her mother dearly and I'd never try and take her away from her."

His final four daughters, Elia, Obella, Dorea, and Loreza, were by the same woman, Ellaria Sand. He spoke of her fondly and Michelle could tell that they'd been madly in love with each other, but Ellaria had no desire to marry.

"I am older and I find myself wanting to settle down. Ellaria and I remain friends and she supports me in my relationships."

"She sounds like an amazing woman. Your daughters are lucky to have someone like that in your life."

The man smiled at her. "I think she would like you."

"Thank you."

"Well, I've told you all about my daughters and I don't even know you name."

Michelle blushed. "It's Michelle."

The man took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, brushing her knuckles with a soft kiss. "Oberyn Martell."