DAGGERS TO THE HEART Part 2 - CLASH OF THE KINGS

Oberyn I

Prince Oberyn Martell commanded attention wherever he ventured. Tall and slender, his form exuded a graceful athleticism that belied the lethal prowess he possessed as a renowned warrior. His countenance, etched with lines of experience, bore the mark of saturnine wisdom, while thin eyebrows arched over piercing black "viper" eyes that seemed to penetrate the souls of those who dared to meet his gaze. A sharp nose and tanned skin, complemented by a widow's peak framing his lustrous black hair, singled him out as having typical Dornish features.

Throughout the Seven Kingdoms, he was known as the Red Viper, and Oberyn's reputation preceded him. Lord Tywin Lannister himself spoke of Oberyn's reputed madness, a trait that only added to the mystique surrounding the enigmatic prince. To some, he was a force to be feared, his very presence evoking a sense of danger and unpredictability that left no man untouched. Yet, amidst the whispers of his infamy, Oberyn revelled in the rumours that surrounded him, half-truths and embellishments that only enhanced his legendary reputation.

For those who dared to delve deeper into the annals of Oberyn's exploits, the tales of his prowess in both battle and bedchamber rang true. A libertine in every sense of the word, Oberyn embraced the pleasures of the flesh with an ardour matched only by his skill with a spear. To him, the boundaries of desire were to be explored, transcending the constraints of gender and convention. Men and women alike found themselves drawn to his charismatic allure, each encounter, a testament to the prince's insatiable appetite for carnal indulgence.

Yet, despite his general preference for the company of women, Oberyn's dalliances with men were no less fervent. His time was divided amongst a myriad of admirers who sought to bask in the glow of his fiery passion. And though the prospect of marriage had never crossed his mind, Oberyn's legacy as a father was undeniable, his progeny scattered across the sands of Dorne like seeds sown in fertile soil. Four of his daughters were with his long-time paramour, Ellaria Sand, a woman whose allure matched his own in both wit and beauty. Together, they epitomised the essence of Dornish sensuality.

Today, after a long ride to King's Landing, they desired to explore that sensuality; they craved intimacy; they craved not only each other but to share the fun with others. A day in a comfortable bed spent fucking was Oberyn's idea of enjoying life to the full.

Oberyn and Ellaria had visited a few of the brothels on the infamous Street of Silk, but they hadn't found exactly what they were looking for. They possessed discerning tastes and were willing to pay to close the place down until they were finished. However, the establishments on the Street of Silk weren't as upmarket as they'd hoped. Therefore, they had been directed to Littlefinger's infamous brothel, closer to the Red Keep and far more discreet.

Guided by a redhead who called herself Ros, they were led into one of the rooms. The centre of the floor was dominated by a large bed surrounded by a heap of cushions. Silk and net veils in red and gold adorned the ceiling and walls, while the glass windows were shielded from prying eyes by intricate latticework and red veils.

"Is Littlefinger here?" Oberyn inquired, observing a handsome, dark-haired man entering through the back entrance and disappearing through a door. He wondered if the man was one of Littlefinger's employees, perhaps even one of his courtesans. Oberyn would pay well for such a fine-looking man.

"He's been out most of the morning, but he returned not long ago," Ros replied. "Would you like to see the girls?" she offered.

Oberyn nodded. "Of course."

Ros left the room, leaving Oberyn alone with Ellaria.

"I take it you noticed the boy," Ellaria smirked, pouring herself some wine and reclining, awaiting the arrival of the girls.