XI. OBERYN MARTELL (1)

31.3K 354 85
                                    

No spoilers

An accurate representation of what I looked like when Trump first announced that he was running for prez up till the moment when he actually won the election:

An accurate representation of what I looked like when Trump first announced that he was running for prez up till the moment when he actually won the election:

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

The handmaiden of Ellaria Sand peeks the interest of Oberyn Martell.
[REQUESTED]

• • •

It wasn't a secret that the Lannister's looked down upon House Martell. They were from as far south as south goes, from a land where brother and sister could fûck, where dwarfs were not thought of as monsters, where everyone was brother and sister. As a Lannister myself, I can say they valued everything we frowned upon. It didn't stop me, however, from admiring Ellaria Sand.

She was a woman of great beauty and eloquence, Ellaria Sand. She treated me well too. I simply couldn't find a reason to not like her. Yes, she fûcks her own brother, yes, she was a bâstard–maybe not an imp–but that didn't matter when she was a kind person at heart. 

Her paramour was no different but Dornishmen didn't come without their diverse sexual appetites. Oberyn Martell came to King's Landing with more than just a pretty face and an alluring southern accent. He came to King's Landing to fûck both woman and men alike and I had peeked his interest.

The first few times I had caught him looking my way, the only thought that had been on my mind was if he would kill me in my sleep. I was after all a Lannister and there was a mutual and well-known disliking between our families.

Then came a point when I couldn't ignore the way he looked at me anymore.

"Are we alone?" I straightened back up from where I had been making the Queen Regent's bed and turned around to see where the voice had come from. The masculine voice, though thickly accented, could have belonged to any of one of the guests who had come here to King's Landing for King Joffrey's wedding, so I hadn't been able to quickly identify it belonging to Oberyn Martell. It did, however, belong to the man who was now approaching me.

"Alone? Why?"

"Are you going to attack me with that?" He asked with a velvety chuckle, nodding towards the pillow I had tightened my grip on. But my grip only tightened as he continued approaching me, knowing how useless a pillow would be against a man called the Red Viper.

"Are you here for Lady Ellaria? She's at the Broth-"

"I'm not here for Ellaria." He interrupted, finally coming to a stop right before me, a distance that would have easily permitted him to slit my throat with the quick flick of his wrist. "I'm here for you. Rest assured that the next bed you'll be seeing will not be your death bed. I'm not going to hurt you, flower." He added the last part when I didn't twitch a muscle to his "joke".

"Then what are you here for?" I still hadn't let go of the pillow.

"To thank you. For giving Ellaria company throughout our stay. It's not easy being a snake in the den of a lion." There wasn't much genuineness bleeding from his voice, but that was what made him believable. "I also came here to fûck you. If you'll let me."

Game of Thrones, 𝙤𝙣𝙚-𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙨Where stories live. Discover now