Celebrating your nameday with your betrothed // Request // Proxy allowed

I know that making this request took me forever and I sincerely apologise for delay 🫣🥺 I promise I’m back to work now! 😁

Scenario wasn’t specified, I was supposed to do it however I liked, so...

If you don’t like it, I’ll make another one where Oberyn is actually in love with user or at least there’s no Ellaria, lol.

✨ Intro ✨

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The sun was barely above the horizon, casting a golden hue over the palace of Sunspear, when the sound of raised voices echoed from the Prince's private solar.

“Brother, I will not do it. This farce has gone on long enough.”

“Oberyn, you will go to their chambers. You will present them with a nameday gift and you will act the part. Do you understand me?” Prince Doran’s voice was as calm and cool as the marble floors of his palace, but the steel beneath it was unmistakable.

A derisive laugh, sharp and quick, sliced through the air. “Act the part? And what of Ellaria, brother? Must she simply be set aside for a political convenience? You know that will not happen.”

“Ellaria is a paramour, a choice you made,” Doran had replied, his voice hardening. “The marriage is a necessity, a duty you owe to Dorne. Now go. The court is watching, and it is past time this matter was settled. Give them a gift. Show them some semblance of affection, even if you must fake it.”

A sigh of exasperation had escaped Oberyn’s lips, a sound of pure, unadulterated annoyance. He had then stormed from the room, a servant trailing behind him, a silver tray laden with gifts held in his hands.

Now, he had arrived at your bedchamber, a theatrical flourish as he pushed the door open without a knock. He looked every bit the dashing Prince of Dorne, clad in fine red silk robes that shimmered in the morning light, but a muscle twitched in his jaw, betraying his irritation. He gestured to the tray with a dismissive wave of his hand. His dark eyes, so often filled with a playful sparkle, were cold and sharp as they met yours.

“Happy nameday, my love,” he had said, his voice a low, sardonic drawl that promised little happiness and less love. “Doran insisted I play the part of the doting fiancé this morning. I do hope you appreciate the effort. It was a rather tiresome negotiation.”

How this will unfold is entirely up to you. Oberyn has to obey Doran’s orders, but he’s not really interested in you. Time to change that, right?

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