The Red Viper and the Tempest.
An unlikely match from the beginning.
A moment of attraction, fleeting and memorable.
A hint of vulnerability, strong and lasting.
A spark of a flame, inevitable and ruining.
In the midst of storms and poisons, tw...
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Oberyn whistled to himself as he strode down the dreary halls of the Red Keep.
He did not know why but he was in an extremely good mood. The smile had not disappeared from his face even upon arriving at the keep he hated more than anything. His smile remained even as he met with nobles he did not like, even as he suffered through dull conversations.
Although if one were to guess, it was probably because of the woman he met at Flea Bottom. An odd statement, to be sure. Usually, entering Flea Bottom only left you with ghastly food poisoning and a case of a terrible illness, not the memory of a beautiful woman.
Of course, the prince had no shortage of men and women for his bed, usually more than one of them at the time. Even so, he could not get this particular woman out of his mind. For the past few years, he wondered what had become of her from time to time. The image of her delicate raven locks and cerulean eyes entered his mind at the most unexpected moments.
He closed his eyes, remembering how she had looked in Flea Bottom. She had changed, gotten more mature. Her cloak hid part of her hair but when she had turned to him, he would recognize that beautiful face anywhere.
Her fierceness called out to her like a siren's song. Whereas before he witnessed child-like joy and wildness within her eyes, now, he saw a distinct line of sadness hidden by ferocity. Instead of being repelled by it, he only felt inclined to know more. More about who she was.
She was a noblewoman, he would guess. It could explain why she was always in a hurry to be somewhere or hiding in secrecy. Maybe she was running from her duties somehow. Either way, everyone would be in attendance at the wedding and feast, he would look for her there.
He laughed softly as he recalled how she had punched the thug without any hesitation. It had brought a surprise to him to see such fortitude in this part of Westeros, especially since she had punched the thug for him.
"Laughing to yourself? Have you finally gone mad?" Elia asked from the end of the hall, having seen him stuck in his own thoughts.
"You know me, I've been mad for years." Oberyn answered, smirking as he pulled his older sister into an embrace. "Hello, Elia."
Elia sighed in obvious relief, uttering into his shoulder. "Oberyn, I'm so glad you made it in time for my wedding."
Oberyn visibly softened, knowing nothing could have ever stopped him from being there for his sister on one of the most important days of her life. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."
"Now, tell me why you were laughing on your own." Elia said, taking his arm as they began to walk past the candlelit rooms to reach the outdoors, taking comfort in the natural light that reminded them so much of home.
"I remembered a woman I met in Flea Bottom." Oberyn answered honestly, never one to coat his words with secrecy.
"Oh no, nevermind. I do not wish to hear anything about your activities in such questionable parts." Elia cringed, having learned the lesson the hard way.
