Lady Cobra

“So you are who they call Lady Cobra,” Oberyn said after he walked through a doorway of hanging beads. He had entered a spacious room with a variety of couches scattered around, all dyed the warm reds and oranges of the desert, and a grey table with matching chairs by the large balcony, the sun streaming in. The woman was looking outside while eating an apple, but she set the fruit down and looked over her shoulder to see who her guest was. Her almost black hair tumbled down to the bottom of her exposed shoulder blades in waves, the silver white of her silky dress tumbling over, but barely covering, her brown curves. With chestnut eyes not fully open and hiding under luscious eyelashes, defined cheekbones, and plump lips slightly parted, she inspected her visitor with obvious lust.

“And you are who they call the Red Viper,” she replied simply, taking in his image as she fully turned to face him. A mustard yellow jacket covered a light orange shirt, the necklines dipping down to mid-torso and revealing sections of a heavy, long necklace. She could have cursed the brown belt slung across his hips gathering the material together, as she was glad to see that his good looks were just as the rumours said. A square face outlined by black hair, and expressive eyebrows above dark eyes that were busy judging her, made him a man that many women had no doubt swooned over. Even though she was Dornish and she loved indulging in pleasure with men and women beneath her silk sheets, Lady Cobra set those thoughts aside to focus on other agendas. “I’m glad you could make it. I trust your journey to Sandstone was tiring; would you like something to eat or drink?” She gestured to the table that held a variety of foods and delicious Dornish wines, and Oberyn eyed it for a moment before striding across the room to join her.

“Why did you ask me here?” Oberyn asked as she began pouring him a goblet of wine. Her insistence to not mention her reasoning on the ravens had greatly intrigued him, but also raised alarm. He took the wine, then hesitated and glanced into the cup. “Is it to kill me? Has someone paid you and you have already slipped poison into my wine?” Lady Cobra chuckled, her eyes full of delight at his intelligence, not familiar with men refusing a drink from her despite her name.

“If I was going to poison you, do you really think I would do it in such an obvious way?” she questioned with a hint of mischief and Oberyn lifted his gaze, giving a shrug. “I know that you are also knowledgeable with poisons. I’m sure you would smell it or taste the poison wherever I would hide it, and I would be dead before you.” Oberyn grinned at how she had deciphered the situation.

“So why ask for me?” he continued, raising the wine glass to his lips. Due to no suspicious aromas, he took a sip.

“Because you’re the viper, and I’m the cobra. We both… enjoy our poisons, and I thought it would be good to make your acquaintance, perhaps discuss our fine art,” she explained, only to have Oberyn raise his eyebrows in question. “I have already tried stimulating discussions with the maesters in Dorne, but they are too cautious. They don’t appreciate my passion, but I think you can. I heard you’re good. I heard you’re very good.” She took another bite of her apple and downed it with a swallow of wine as Oberyn pondered her words.

“I am good. But you have a reputation of your own. How do I know that I can trust you? What if you end up using my own poisons against my loved ones because an employer asked for your services?” Oberyn speculated.

“I can refuse offers, you know. I have done so in the past, simply because I like your brother ruling Dorne. An alliance with you would only give me further reason to not harm your friends and family.”

“I’ll take your word… for now,” Oberyn replied sternly and Lady Cobra noticed just how tense his shoulders were.

“Relax, my prince. My residence shall be a place of pleasure for you and I,” she said with a hint of sultriness before heading towards the exit covered with beads swaying in the hot Dornish breeze. “Come. Let me show you my storage room.”


“This is bigger than I expected,” Oberyn commented as he followed her into the basement of her housing, surprised to see the room and its shelves extending for a considerable amount of space. Rows of vials glistened in the sunlight that streamed in from small windows high on the walls, lighting the room in a majestically beautiful way. Lady Cobra plucked a tall grey bottle from the shelf and pulled the cork out, offering it to Oberyn.

“Which one is this?” she asked and after a short whiff he scrunched his nose in a way that she strangely found charming.

“Wolfsbane,” he answered without a doubt, making her grin even though it was an easy test. Oberyn walked past her as she returned the bottle to its place and he stopped when he saw a shining aqua green flask with golden decorations twisting around its neck. “This has to be manticore venom.” He had recognised the colouring of the lethal insect from his travels in Essos, and the bottle that represented it was almost as beautiful as the creature itself.

“Not the easiest to come by in Westeros, is it?” she remarked as she joined his side. “Have you ever used it before?” Oberyn met her eyes and decided by the intrigue written on her face that it would be safe to confess.

“Yes. Once.”

“If you really want to cause some damage before the afflicted dies, it would pay to mix it with a clotting agent. The poison slowly seeps to their heart instead of rushing there. It is very brutal to see,” Lady Cobra commented, only to be met with a questioning gaze. “I was hired to kill a rapist once. I gave those boys some form of justice when the town’s lord would not.”

“So is that how it works? Someone approaches you with a name and some Gold Dragons and you get the job done silently and quickly?” Oberyn questioned and his words were met with a smile.

“Yes,” she replied simply before continuing to another section of the shelf. She halted before a large white sea shell that cradled amethyst-coloured crystals, an exquisite sight that transfixed her and reminded her of why she loved her job; poisons were undeniably her passion. They were perfect, in all their forms, and always gave her a pleasure that she could not find in other aspects of life. A breath passed over her shoulder and she suddenly became aware of Oberyn’s presence behind her.

“It’s a pity that the strangler is so stunning yet so deadly,” he remarked and she smirked.

“Many things in life are beautiful but deadly,” Lady Cobra pointed out as she stalked away from him. Oberyn slowly followed, even more intrigued by the woman he had heard so much about now that he was actually in her company.

“Do you have Tears of Lys?” he wondered as he paused before a vial of clear liquid. He kept his hands deep in his pockets, almost afraid to risk touching anything.

“No, unfortunately.”

“Too expensive for you?” Oberyn asked with a hint of a tease and she paused to glance over her shoulder at him.

“No… Too easy,” she replied before walking around the end of the shelf. A colourless, tasteless liquid was no challenge for Lady Cobra, and she preferred to work with more exciting poisons. Oberyn followed her with a grin at her remark, and was astounded by what was on the back of the shelf. Clear jars revealed preserved snakes of all colours and sizes, ranging from complete bodies to only particular organs, mainly the fangs and venom glands.

“Where did you get all of these?” Oberyn asked in awe.

“Mostly from Dorne. But I have had many shipped from Essos,” she said as she gestured at a viper as green as the grass in the Dothraki Sea, or at least so she was told by the merchant.

“Simply for viewing purposes?” Oberyn continued as he spotted a desert cobra preserved in such a manner that its neck was spread, flaunting its patterned scales.

“I use them to create poisons, my own special mixtures…”

“You do?” Oberyn blinked and she motioned to behind him at the long table full of intricate glassware and tools that most maesters owned. Currently, a straw yellow concoction was lazily bubbling over a orange flame, the excess steam from it dripping down a tube into a separate flask. “Tell me more.” His words were intended to sound as a command, but he couldn’t hide his excitement. Genuinely smiling from his show of interest, Lady Cobra headed over to her working space, lifting a bottle of creamy white liquid.

“This is my latest. No doubt you are aware of the cobras that live near Ghost Hill by Sunspear?”

“Nasty things, they are,” Oberyn remarked with a scowl as he recalled a time when he was younger and saw a soldier be bitten and die eight hours later.

“This is their venom, modified, of course,” she said, a proud smirk creeping onto her lips.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what modifications did you make?” Oberyn inquired, detecting that she was incredibly pleased with her piece of work. Their voices held a tone of enthusiasm, both for their art and for the ability to share their love with someone who understood.

“Firstly, I made it so it does not have to directly enter the bloodstream, as is required by the snake if it wants to kill,” Lady Cobra began, giving the bottle a quick swirl and seemingly entrancing Oberyn with it. “And secondly, I delayed its effects. With the addition of a few components I have created over the years, the victim is unaware of their poisoning for about twelve hours, depending on the dose.”

“And by then it is too late,” Oberyn finished for her, anticipating the ending to the story. “Stops the heart, does it not?”

“Yes. It’s a very discrete weapon,” she said with a triumphant smile, more than content with her creation.

“I sense that there is more to this,” Oberyn said as he took the vial from her, holding it to the light from a window and inspecting the cloudy fluid.

“During my trials, I found an antidote.”

“No!” he quickly countered, knowing how rare it was for a poison to be able to be negated; that was part of the reason why he enjoyed using them. Instead of being frowned upon for his outburst, he received a smirk as she lifted a much smaller bottle from the desk. Barely the size of her palm, the rounded vial held a concoction that had a deep purple substance settled out on the bottom, and a clearer aqua blue liquid floating on top.

“If the trial subjects ingested this at any stage before their inevitable death from the poison, they would live. Even if they were on the verge of dying, it somehow counteracts it…” she trailed off, still in wonder about the potion she had created. Once she realised that she was losing her assertive aura, she straightened her shoulders and spun the bottle to send the tiny purple chunks floating upwards. “The fermented leaves settle out when it stands, but other than that, it’s perfect.” Oberyn set aside the bottle of poison and took a step closer to her, his eyes focused on the blue solution.

“I have to admit, my lady, I was not expecting this when I received your raven…” he said gently. “But I have incredible respect for your intelligence now, and I would be honoured if you would show me more.”

“I would love to,” she beamed.


Candles scattered around Lady Cobra’s room flickered softly in the warm night breeze as she refilled Oberyn’s goblet with more wine. She lay comfortably on her side on a wide couch, ensuring to exaggerate her curves to her wonderful company who was lying with her. They had enjoyed a bountiful dinner and then watched the sunset, all the while discussing poisons, but with the addition of wine to intoxicate them, the conversation had shifted onto more personal topics.

“Tell me, what is your name,” Oberyn said as she sat the almost empty bottle down on the short table next to them.

“You already know my name,” she pointed out dismissively.

“No, your real name. Are you a lady from a noble house in Dorne? You have the beauty of one,” he wondered only to watch her shake her head.

“No, I come from nothing. I was no one, but now I’m Lady Cobra,” she replied with a raise of her glass, and they both drank to her earned success. Oberyn opened his mouth to pry further, but she continued speaking first, unwilling to delve into her past. “May I ask why you started working with poison? What about it… lured you in?” As she spoke lowly, she shifted her body slightly, pressing her arm across her chest to flaunt the features she had. Oberyn was going to protest about her evasion of his question, but was distracted by the view in front of him.

“It was when I was younger, in the desert travelling to a feast with my family. A guard tried shooing a viper from my horse, and it reacted by biting him many times… I watched him die in agony before we reached our destination, saw how helpless he and the maester were to stop his suffering or death. Venom is just so… definite. And I liked the thought of that,” he recalled, watching as she finished her wine and then set the cup down on the table. Her hazel eyes remained attentively trained on him, absorbing every word he spoke and relating to them. “Then I had to fight a lord until first blood, and I coated my spear’s tip with poison to ensure that I truly won the duel. The effect it had on me was far more gratifying than I could have ever imagined, and it spurred my interest.”

“You know, most say that poison is the weapon of women, and cravens,” she remarked, her tone revealing that she was cheekily challenging him. Her statement was met with a smirk, and Oberyn placed his goblet on the table too, leaning in towards her and holding her gaze.

“I disagree. I think it’s a weapon of those with intelligence,” he countered smoothly, making Lady Cobra tilt her chin upwards and raise her eyebrows at his answer.

“And why is that?”

“It doesn’t take much to swing a sword around and slice a man open. And besides, that’s hardly a subtle way to kill,” Oberyn continued, slowly shifting closer. “But poison… First you have to choose which one to use, and then you need to administer it. Only a clever person can plot with poison. And then the victim falls, typically suffers, and no one knows who killed them. It’s brilliant to watch the plan unfold, thrilling… satisfying… Don’t you agree?” His breath caressed her cheeks and the look in her eyes suggested that she had fallen under his charming spell.

“Yes, it’s very-” she began but Oberyn’s quick movement cut her off as he cupped her face and kissed her forcefully. As she sank into the couch and pulled Oberyn on top of her, she moaned with ecstasy from the passion, both between them and for their shared hobby.


“You promise you will return?” Lady Cobra asked as she ran her hands down the gaping neck of Oberyn’s orange shirt.

“After yesterday, how could I not?” he answered with a smirk and she pulled him into another fervent kiss. Oberyn eventually pulled himself away from her, picking up his yellow jacket and belt from the floor as he headed for her archway of beads. He slid the coat over his shoulders with a sigh and slowly buckled his belt comfortably across his hips, considering staying for another night even though he had promised Doran to stay just the one. “Actually, do you have excess Wolfsbane? Would you mind if I took a vial? My supplies are low.” He glanced over his shoulder to see her smiling.

“Of course, not a problem,” she beamed and they linked arms and walked to her basement. As she poured some Wolfsbane into a smaller vial for him, Oberyn wandered to the other side of the shelf, examining her instruments and cobras once more. When she joined him, he had his hands in his pockets and was staring in awe at an exceptionally long cobra that was found near Sunspear. “I hope you don’t run into one of those when you return. This large male killed three men before he was slain himself.”

“I don’t know if I have ever seen one that big,” Oberyn commented before placing his hand on her lower back. “Will you bid me goodbye? I must be going before the sun gets too hot.” With a nod, she allowed Oberyn to lead her upstairs and outside to where his small party was awaiting him, already mounted and dressed to endure the open desert’s weather.

“Safe travels, my prince,” Lady Cobra said with a short curtsey and a devilish smirk, remembering how nothing was formal between them last night.

“I will write to you when I return,” Oberyn promised before effortlessly leaping on his horse. He slid easily onto the saddle and then efficiently wrapped cloth around his head to protect him from the sun and sand. After catching her eye one last time, Oberyn led his party out of Sandstone and towards Sunspear. Once she was certain that he was truly gone, Lady Cobra entered her abode and found her servant in the kitchen.

“Write to Tywin Lannister,” she announced, smirking at how brilliantly her plan had worked. The thrill from accomplishing the tricky task was astounding. Combining poison and sex, two things that brought her such pleasure, was her most genius idea yet. “Tell him that the deed is done. I want the rest of my payment.” The servant nodded and hurried away to complete her order, and Lady Cobra headed to her basement to drink the antidote before it was too late.


The sun was rising to its midday position in the sky, truly beating down on the Dornishmen as they guided their horses through the desert. Oberyn had been feeling lightheaded for a while now, but blamed it on the sun and continued to drink water and press on with his travels. As soon as his chest tightened, he halted his horse. Eyes wide as he clutched his left breast, he felt the muscles beneath his skin contract and pain rippled from his core. Gasping, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the stolen vial, giving it a quick swirl to lift the purple chunks of leaves into the blue liquid. Oberyn quickly swallowed it all and was incredibly relieved to feel his chest begin relaxing mere seconds later. He had desperately hoped that his hunch was wrong, that just because Lady Cobra had spoken so enthusiastically about the poison hadn’t meant that she would choose it to use on him, that her request for friendship was genuine, but she had betrayed him after all. As the antidote continued to counter the poison and relieve his pain, he turned his horse around, pointing its nose back to Sandstone.

“My prince, is everything all right?” one of his soldiers asked, and Oberyn’s eyes narrowed as he glared at the mere dark point on the horizon that was Sandstone.

“We’re going back,” he ordered as his body filled with rage. “I have a cobra to step on.”