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[versigny]

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[adorne]

[ It's strange, to be called 'my lord,' in a tone of reverence and gentility and not with undertones of lust or a gasp of elation. Oberyn is getting used to it, but his expression rises and falls with the strangeness of it. Kind is also not something he's often been called, cruel, mad, foolish, inbred, and more but kind rarely met him with earnestness. He's quiet for a moment as they walk arm in arm, a warm wind blows through his hair and billows her skirts and though he can feel his people's eyes on him his focus remains on Margaery a wellspring of new revelations. ]

Ellaria has not spoken to me since the announcement of our betrothal.

[ Though he has tried to reach out, his interest has been in remaining respectful for the sake of his girls, and their shared respect for both Ellaria and himself and their duties to Dorne. Ellaria was a hotheaded and proud woman, and Oberyn's choice to wed her out of duty to his country and family was met with the disdain he expected from her, though he hoped she might relinquish it over time. ]

But I will introduce you to my daughters, they are as sharp of tongue as I am and almost as deadly.

[ Oberyn leans into her advance, gently like a wave lapping at the shoreline. This was new, tentative in a way that physicality had never been for him but the body responds in kind and her curvature pairs nicely with his form, two half moons making themselves whole.

His jasper eyes find hers with some presentiment; they barely knew one another, but one thing he was certain of was that Margaery Martell was more than the sum of her parts, or as appearances would have a man believe. If he was the snake, she might well be the mongoose, unseeming but innocuous at a glance but just as capable. ]

[versigny]

[ Ellaria's response is unsurprising - Margaery remembers her and Oberyn both at her first wedding, eyes wandering separately but always so close together, hand in hand. she'd not thought much about them then, but even that small sliver of memory is enough for her to know that their love and history is not one she should seek to break for her own gain, that it would be her undoing instead. besides that, the last person she wants to be like is Cersei, who very clearly suffered a deep darkness at the state of her marriage to Robert Baratheon.

she hopes the paramour will reconsider her position, in time. she's always wanted to participate in a threesome.

just one of many fantasies she will divulge to her new husband, in due time. ]

Are you warning me because you plan to see how I fare against them?

[ it doesn't escape her notice that he praises their deadly talents, but in a country like Dorne, even royalty can't escape the need to be sharp at all times. and if she hopes to be true friends with his daughters, then she must find a way to maneuver herself so she's not dancing on the edges of their blades.

not for the first time, being Olenna Tyrell's granddaughter has prepared her for the most unexpected circumstances. she can only hope to pass on the same legacy for any who would consider her their guardian. or mother, if he's so inclined. ]

I promise I do not wander without baseless confidence, my lord. You needn't worry for me, as soft as I might look. Roses have the advantage of drawing admirers close to prick them with their thorns.

[ her eyes are glittering with amusement as she raises her brows, watching him watch her, smile suddenly mischievous. ]

Would you like a demonstration of how dangerous I can be?

[adorne]

[ Women of Dorne were proud and strong, and were they not both, they were at the very least unwilling to forgive a blight upon their self-image or their standing. This was both to Ellaria, who was now a mistress and not simply a chosen paramour.

Oberyn can still feel the sting from her open palm when he'd taken the time to tell her, her other hand in between his two palms. Regardless of the nature of how it came to be, it still wounded her ego, and he'd expected the resentment, but not the silence nor the careful avoidance. ]

I am warning you so that you can be prepared for the swiftness of their words, should they have judgments or reservations, or merely no need for formalities.

[ Another thing not often done in Dorne, but in her time spent in his home, he has noticed her opening up to the idea, blossoming like the rose she happened to be. Exposing herself to the sun and the warmth of it despite the softness of those petals.

Even now, when she basks in that glow, it surprises him so far from the woman he'd met before, in King's Landing. His quiet introspection peels up at the sides to unveil a lecherous smirk; he stalls beside an ornate topiary, fitting considering the verbal discourse between them. ]

A rose or a sundew? [ She was no longer a Tyrell, after all, and there was more than one kind of deceptive plant that she could parallel herself to. His amber eyes sparkle like mead under a sun dipping low over the horizon, tired of blessing their union with its rays. Oberyn had always been curious; he'd always had a taste for knowledge, danger, and the unknown, and she played right into his desires, despite their surroundings. ] Show me.

[versigny]

Thank you for your warning.

[ she means it sincerely: it would be easy, even understandable, if Oberyn were to leave Margaery on her own entirely after their wedding out of spite, to keep her vulnerable in a place she doesn't know well with culture that runs more deeply than the pretty utterances and superficial displays of King's Landing. many men have done worse with their intentional carelessness for a lot less.

when he stops, so does she, eyes narrowing under that same playful smile. this time, instead of keeping a respectful distance, she moves closer, owning the space between them as if it's entirely hers; not unlike a cat when it looks for a place to rest, especially when imposing itself on others. her hands travel up his arms, resting lightly on his biceps before moving up to wrap together around his neck. ]

Patience, my prince. I'm not so arrogant as to think I could be any danger to you when you're already on your guard.

[ the press of her body against his is deliberately slow, meant to be a distraction that pulls anticipation as a physical response. even if he can see through her ploy - and he most likely can - she doesn't care. after a day of careful formalities and being delicate, it's much more gratifying to indulge in a bit of harmless fun.

if he lets her continue, one of her hands will rake through the hair on the back of his head and tug with a gentle fist, meant to tilt his head up, exposing his throat. and there, she'll place a kiss - so soft that it might mimic the whisper of a blade. ]

ooc: sorry for the delay i hurt my hand

[adorne]

[ Her sincerity is a lecherous as her next move, and were he not so wise a man, he might be surprised by her cat that ate the canary enthusiasm now. The sun has fallen into the sky, a blood red casting shadows of blue, gray, and orange over the land. His homeland.

As much as he loved Dorne, he'd been traveling so long he didn't realize how much he'd missed it. Being here, even because of another wedding, filled him with a lust for life and rekindled an inner flame to a cresset long since extinguished.

The way 'my prince,' rolls off of her tongue peels his eyes from the sunset building on the skyline and to her angelic face. His mouth quirks up at one end, a smile in the face of her exploration, measured and therefore more memorable. Oberyn slides his hands down the silken back of the gown to reciprocate, splays his fingers out in five points as far as they will reach.

The tips of his fingers work toward the pursuit of tender tissue, moving past the landscape of supple flesh with intent to feel the musculature beneath, when Margaery grabs at the length of his hair. He grunts, for the first time too preoccupied with his desire and exploration to see it coming, and his chest rises to allow her the moment, eager to see where the softness and sharpness might meet. ]

I'm not known for my patience, Princess Martell. Few have deigned me with that virtue. Or any virtue for that matter.