Howling at the Sun

“Dinner last night was unpleasant, wasn’t it?” Oberyn complained as he shut the door to his chambers behind Tabitha.

“Cersei created some of the most uncomfortable silences I have ever experienced,” she admitted. “And I saw you leaning towards your sister and away from Cersei!” Oberyn laughed loudly, not surprised that his actions had been noticed by her.

“I was getting a headache!” he claimed as he threw his palms up in a defensive position. “And to think that we have to do it all again tonight…”

“Perhaps we should both feign an illness and then eat elsewhere,” Tabitha suggested in a playful tone and Oberyn strode across to one of his desks.

“Or,” he began, holding up a bottle of wine. “We could start drinking now.” He poured two glasses and Tabitha took one, briefly smelling the drink’s aroma before they both took a sip.

“This is lovely. I must admit that I prefer this to what King Rhaegar serves at dinner,” she remarked, regretting the sentence the second it came out of her mouth.

“It is from Dorne. Everything from Dorne tastes good,” Oberyn said with a smirk before he turned and walked out onto his balcony. Unable to resist following after such a suggestive comment, Tabitha smiled to herself before trailing after him. She rested one hand against the balcony and held her wine glass close to her mouth, frequently taking small mouthfuls of the beverage so she could experience the delightful taste for longer.

“Why do you say such things, Oberyn?” Tabitha wondered aloud after repeating the question a few times in her head. The gentle warm breeze from the sea made locks of her hair tickle the exposed skin on her chest, and she absentmindedly flicked them over her shoulders while continuing to stare out at Blackwater Bay, focusing on the lights coming from ships.

“It is just the way I am. Do you want me to stop?” he offered, finding himself looking more at her instead of the view.

“Not necessarily,” she admitted with a tiny wince as she realised how confused she was. “I… I don’t understand it. Is it just the way the people in Dorne speak or do you mean what you say… or am I simply reading too much into your words?” Oberyn paused briefly as he considered his next move, scratching the thin line of hair that ran across his chin.

“I think you are hearing me fine, Tabitha. I just can’t hear you,” he said softly, placing a hand on hers. Her heart leapt at his warm touch and she mentally questioned why she was feeling so nervous all of a sudden.

“Oberyn… I’m not going to deny that I enjoy your company and that I feel as though we connect well, and I’m not going to deny that you’re handsome, but… We cannot commit to each other. We can only have a friendship.” Tabitha did her best to explain what was in her head, yet felt as though she wasn’t giving her thoughts much justice.

“Are you telling me that you want to be with Viserys?” Oberyn asked quietly as he retreated his hand slightly, uncertain if he had been wrong to make his move.

“The man thinks he’s a dragon,” Tabitha commented before meeting his eyes. He spotted the sparkle in them and they started to laugh at Viserys’ madness. Oberyn secured his hand atop hers, gently pressing his fingers down between her own, and they drank more wine in silence after their amusement died down. “I don’t want to marry a dragon.”

“I don’t want to marry a lion,” Oberyn countered smoothly, his dark eyes trailing from her face down to their joined hands.

“I would like some more Dornish wine, though,” Tabitha said, taking him by surprise. He smiled and spotted her empty glass, glad that she had taken his advice to drink faster and indulge in life’s pleasures. Without hesitation, Oberyn gripped her hand and led her back inside.