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josephquinnswhore · 1 year

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Eternal Destiny

Chapter 3 - The Prince of Dorne

Pairing: Prince Oberyn Martell x fem!Reader

Summary: Your menu for the Royal Wedding will need to be approved by the King and his fiancée. You see a familiar face and it leads to a dinner invitation with the Royals and a poisoning.

Word Count: 5k

Two whole nights without sleep, your brain felt fuzzy, and eyelids weighed down, your body and brain too restless to lie still enough in bed to get to sleep, it only gave the anxiety an opportunity to attach to you and grow like a fungus. Not wanting to give that anxiety a chance to attach, you gather your softest towel and turn the kettle on, boiling it while you shower. The warmth of the shower enveloping you whole as your body relaxes, the hot water running down your skin tickles you, humming in contempt as you soap up your lufer, taking the time to wash yourself, the coarseness of the lufer exfoliated your skin, scrubbing off any remnants of yesterday, trickling down the drain with the water. You squeeze a small amount of shampoo and rub your hands together, lathering the pomegranate-smelling substance before scrubbing your scalp of any dirt and grease. The smell of pomegranates and the steam from the hot shower cleared any doubts running through your mind, feeling weightless as you completely succumb to relaxation. Your expert fingers massage your scalp, paying extra attention to that spot behind your ears that's sensitive. You tilt your head back, the warm water rinsing the shampoo out of your hair as it trickles down your back. As you reach for the conditioner and apply it to the tips of your hair, you wonder what it would be like; to have someone do this for you. Having someone so intimately take care of you in a sensual way, your mind can't help but wonder to him. You didn't even know his name, those brown eyes with the sun hitting them gave them a honey-coloured hue, you found yourself lost in them, still seeing them perfectly as you memorized them in your mind, begging not to forget the eyes of the only man you've actually felt a connection with. Conditioner runs down your back as the water rinses it out of your hair, the slickness of it made the tiles beneath your feet slippery. You shut off the water, your brain protesting, not wanting to break the memory of him.

Your soft towel clung to your body, absorbing most of the water as you tread towards the mirror, you glide your arm across the mirror to clear the built-up fog-like blur that corrupts your image, your hair is still drenched and sticking to your skin in a way that itches. You spent time admiring your eyes, shape of your nose, your smile, your mind.

These affirmations became a daily ritual as you practice magic, the path least taken for those who practice, undermine the importance of confidence, self-worth, self-love; all things that give your mind more well fullness and sessions more successful.

The bitterness of the coffee lingers on your tongue, the aftertaste is unpleasant and quite frankly disgusting, however, you could definitely use a pick me up to get things rolling this morning. The more caffeine you consume, the less daunting your wedding menu folder becomes. Flipping it open and reading the slips, underline notes and confirmed items, you make some adjustments, removing the chocolate sauce from the panna cotta dessert and adding some extra intricate details. Finally happy with a result you think is satisfactory, you begin printing multiple copies, that in which Fredrick can present to the King and the rest of the Royal family. Feeling motivated, you decide to make an item off your menu, skimming through and you know; it's got to be the dessert, the panna cotta. You shuffle through your cupboard and gather the ingredients, which is always stocked with fresh ingredients and important pantry items.

Finding your fanciest serving glasses, you set them aside on the benchtop, away from where you're preparing. They were a gift from your grandmother, a relic she had cherished for 3 decades before handing them down to you as a gift once you had finished your qualifications. They had sat unused for years and had collected some dust that could easily be restored by washing them, figuring this is the perfect opportunity to showcase them with an equally stunning dessert.

You set aside the boiled gelatin mix, removing it from the heat to cool. You add remaining ingredients for the panna cotta mixture, knowing it would need at least 2 hours to set, as you add the last ingredient of Kefir yoghurt, the consistency is thick and sticking to the spatula, but still falling. You pour the mixture into the glass ramekins, making sure each has an equal amount, so they all set at the same time, and correctly. What a nightmare it would be to present someone in the royal family with an under-set pannacotta.

Making the mango jelly is a breeze, as you've done a dozen times, you add the rest of the cooled down gelatin mix to the mango jelly puree, that you'd made from fresh mangos. The aroma sends you into a frenzy, stomach grumbling at the emptiness while you cook for someone else.

You open the door to your fridge and pour the mango jelly mix on top of the semi-set pannacotta. Closing the fridge door, you slice up some fresh mango and set it in a small bowl, cling wrapping them to keep them fresh for presentation, the small purple and yellow edible flowers in the plastic container beside the mango. You set a timer for 2 hours, a precautionary check will be done to see if its set properly or if it will require the extra hour. Things were going smoothly, you wanted this to set the mood for the day, needing some reassurance you make way to your table littered with magical items. Using a match to light some candles, the last one more difficult as it was extremely burnt out, your attachment to this one candle used for your wellbeing and health rituals makes it unreasonable to throw it away.

As you begin to brew a small batch of Dexterity potion, you gather the ingredients, griding down the 2 sticks of water bloom herb to a fine powder before adding it to the water base you begin with, stirring precisely 26 times, adding another ground stick of water bloom, you stir 13 times, finally adding the last ground stick of water bloom, you let it sit for a moment as you partially grind up the 4 leaves you pick of a wind bloom leaf, stirring 22 times to complete the recipe. Skillfully, you pour the concoction into a small vile, the liquid shimmers as transparent but small hints of light blue, dabbing a few drops onto the skin on your wrist and subconsciously coating your finger in the liquid before tracing the black in on your forearm, a half of you that belonged to someone else. You plug the liquid with a wooden cork and slide it into a wooden holder for your vials, coloured potions filling the remaining slots. "Let this potion guide me to my destiny, all qualities of dexterity I beg to acquire, may I display finesse and mental quickness."

Just as you blow the flame out, the timer for your panna cotta times off, the shrieking of the timer creating a discomfort and rush to turn it off, sighing as you place it on top of your microwave, yes, you have a microwave. Qualified chef and all sometimes all you need is a cup of microwave 2-minute noodles.

You pull the tray towards you, still half hanging in the fridge and you jiggle it, inspecting the wobble of the pannacotta, lifting each ramekin and inspecting them individually before you decide they're satisfactory, they wouldn't need the extra hour. The confidence of succeeding in a dessert you'd done a dozen times, although nowhere near for anyone as important as the Royal family, had you excited. Rushing to your bedroom to get dressed, finding your finest attire, an emerald Green suit pant and blazer set, pairing them with a black shirt underneath and black heels, your hair was finally dry enough to brush and style in which you pull into a low pony tail, braiding it and twisting it around the hair tie to make a formal bun, two small strands were left out to frame your face. You took a moment to assess yourself in the mirror, the blazer set looking stunning on you, the emerald green an extension of your beauty.

Dialing Fredricks number, he answers within two rings, his cheery voice invading your senses as he greets you, "you're up early, you have no idea how pleased I am to hear from you. All good news I hope?" Early? He has no idea. "Of course, Fredrick, the menu is complete and ready for reviewing, I'm happy for you to collect them anytime you find a minute available." There's a pause and chatter in the background, likely confirming he could come immediately. "I'll be there at once, thank you for your swiftness." You chuckle at his formalness, "no problem at all, see you shortly." He hangs up the call as the end dial tone beeps in your ear and you gather all your items in a frenzy, your folder with multiple printed copies and images of what the dishes will look like, excluding the panna cotta as you'd be taking a physical image of one to them. You quickly and precisely place the fresh mango slices and edible flowers on top for presentation, the elegance shining through your hard work.

You put the lids on the ramekins and put the wooden frame in the cooler bag first, settling the glass and placing them in their holders so you knew they would stay upright and still.

There is a gentle knock at the door and your heels click loudly against the wooden floors of your living room, opening the door to see Fredrick, dressed in the same yellow and brown attire he wore when you first met him. "You look astonishing, allow David to take your bags while I escort you to the vehicle." Your confidence didn't shake as the uncomfortable thought of someone else possibly ruining all your hours of hard work in a matter of seconds. "I would prefer to have them on my person." Leaving no room for negotiation Fredrick shrugs his shoulder, David opts for opening your door which you thank him for, the leather of the backseat groans and creaks as you place your cooler bag and folder on it, the shiny material looking as if it had never been used.

David is silent as you and Fredrick make small talk on the 15-minute drive to the secluded Royal palace, the shrubs surrounding the brick fence were squared perfectly, not one leaf out of line, the giant black gate was 10 feet tall, the letters Martell inscribed in perfect cursive. The speaker box buzzed as David winds down the window, a voice emitting from the device. "Identification number." "D36829V." There was a moment of silence before the box lit up again, "David, who are the two passengers accompanying you?" You raised an eyebrow slightly, twitching as you tried not to look around, tried not to look suspicions, your brain trying to accuse you of things you aren't guilt for. "King Doran's personal assistant Fredrick and the Chef that will be catering his wedding, she's here for the review of menu." There was a loud buzz, the ignorant noise making you wince, the gates creak as they open, allowing you to divulge deeper into the palace. It was incredible, what you thought was a palace, was a small town. The sandy coloured buildings reflect the sun and the grass as green as you have ever seen, palm trees standing tall and the leaves swaying in the summer wind. Children in yellow robes litter the outside grounds, surrounding the car and trailing close behind, curiously following the car with you inside, it made your heart leap, children were so sweet like that.

"Please, take a seat and help yourself to any refreshments available. I'll be back with the Royals at once." He dismissed himself and you take in the beautiful room Fredrick led you to. There were three lounges, accompanied by the large Throne in the center. Your mouth gaping open as you admire the large pilons, the tall indoor plants and curtains that hung from the doorways, the artwork accentuating the old-fashioned style that had dissipated decades ago, the gold accents accentuating the sun as it shines through the open room. Bowls of fresh fruit and drinks available from cannisters which looked so old you couldn't guess which time they were from; it was beautiful, you were completely enamored by the elegance of the room. You picked your jaw up off the floor and stood, straightening your clothes neatly as two guards walk in, their golden and black robes inadequate in beauty in comparison to the King and his fiancé, Fredrick walking beside them, waiting to introduce them, you stand as you wait to greet them. You subconsciously bow as all lower-class citizens do when in the presence of the King and a laugh escapes his lips, "no need for the formalities, you are a welcome guest here in this palace." A smile creeps to your lips, "I'm grateful my King, I cannot express what an honor it is to meet you and your wonderful fiancé." "Yes, how rude of me. This is my fiancé, Lady Mellario." You take her hand and caress it with both hands, bowing your head, unable to rid yourself of formalities, "It is an honor, my Lady." She smiles sweetly at you, with a kindness that feels intoxicating, "Isn't she the sweetest?"

Your confidence seemed to be holding strong, although you were blushing furiously at the Lady, her compliments burning your cheeks in a fiery tingle you were sure they were aware of. “Please do sit, I apologise for my brother, The Prince has never been known for being on time, even for important occasions.” Important? The King thinks this meeting with you is important? Or are you misreading him?

“Please don’t apologise, I truly don’t mind waiting at all.” The King gestures for you to sit on the lounge right adjacent to him, the Lady taking a single sofa next to the Throne. You sit as gracefully as you can manage, soothing the wrinkles in your blazer and pressing your knees together, your hands resting on your knees. A few minutes pass in silence, although not uncomfortable you wished the Prince would arrive to stop the anxiety that was bubbling in your throat, threatening to worsen with every minute of his absence.

You hear him before he enters the room, his sweet velvety voice had sent a shiver down your spine, your mark on your forearm tingling, your heart starts racing at the familiarity of it all. Could it be?

You stand to greet the Prince and you lock eyes with him once he’s standing but a few feet ahead of you, advancing towards you, the golden robe that clung perfectly to his muscled body swayed behind him, your heart was so erratic you could barely hear anything but. His presence had you almost frozen, reminiscing from that day at the market, it was him, the man from the market was the Prince of Dorne. You notice the woman next to him, assuming his wife, recognizing her had your face dropping, the lady that threatened you to stay away-she was telling the truth at least, she was the Prince’s wife, suddenly the room felt stuffy, your lungs filling with what felt like concrete and you felt like you could suffocate inside, on the outside you muster the fakest smile you could, bowing to the Prince and the Princess, wishing you could just waste away and not have to be here for a moment longer.

The way her face dropped when she saw his paramour had him furious, the pieces of the puzzle coming together, how Ellaria has assured him that the problem was taken care of, he had a moment to wonder what she did. He couldn’t ponder on the thought for long before she bowed before him and gave him a fake smile, an imposters smile, he felt himself craving his smile; the one you had given him at the market, but he realized things were changing, probably for the worst now that Ellaria was involved.

You take a seat back to your original place on the yellow couch, the Prince and the Princess taking their seat across from you at Oberyn’s request. “Thank you for joining us Oberyn, I must suggest we start with the meeting.” King Doran looks to you and you nod, swiftly agreeing and beginning to take the files out of your folder. “Fredrick if you don’t mind?” “With pleasure.” He hands around the slips with the menu, photos and their original preference sheet.

You start your presentation, “to start with we have two options for the entree. First is a mushroom risotto with freshly shaved Parmesan cheese. The second is a bacon wrapped pesto pork tenderloin.” You had taken a risk with the tenderloin, it was hardly fine dining let alone elegant enough to be served at a wedding, but you knew if they liked the idea it would be a massive success. It was a calculated risk that you decided to take, apparently to the Kings liking. “I admire your confidence, and the risk you’re taking of the meals being too.. simple. However in this instance I must reward you for creating something that is exactly the food we love to eat.” You exhale at the Kings compliment, and the agreeing murmurs from his fiancé. “Thank you sir, I wanted to incorporate some of the notes that were written on the preference sheet, including branching to a vegetarian option for those who wish to try something new, take a new route.”

“Onto Mains; the first dish I’ve listed is a personal favourite, roasted duck with a sweet-sour blackberry and orange sauce. Secondly we have the classic beef Wellington, cooked to your preference, I myself like to eat mine rare.” King Doran loudly agreed, groans of approval accompanied by rumbling stomachs. “Lastly we have the chicken Galliano, strictly cooked well done.” Your sense of humour paid off with chuckles filling the room, Ellaria stayed silent beside Oberyn, curling her feet up onto the lounge as she rolled her eyes.

“Now to deserts: the first option is a Coconut Honey Shortbread, it’s light and the perfect option for someone who is full but still needing a sweet fix at the end of the night. Lastly my personal favourite is the Mango Jelly Kefir panacotta with edible flowers.”

“I did notice there is no available photo for the latter dessert, is this a new dessert of yours?” The hesitation in the Kings voice was justified, who would want someone experimenting food for their wedding. You slip the folder off your lap and place it onto the lounge beside you, reaching into your bag, “that would be unacceptable of me to do so, King Doran. I thought it would be unnecessary to provide a printed image when I have bought along a sample for you to taste, made fresh this morning.” You stand and Fredrick takes two ramekins to the King and his fiancé, you walk to Oberyn and his hands caress yours as he takes it from you; consciously you try not to crush the glass in your hands as you hand it to him, digging the spoon straight into his dessert, Ellaria snatched it from your hands and you retreated to your seat and waited anxiously. Rubbing your hands along the material of your clothed leg to wipe off the sweat that had started to built.

An obscene noise leaves Oberyn’s mouth as he divulges into your dessert, savoring the flavors that was made by your hands. The noise sent a tingle through your body and nestled in your cunt. His head not looking up, but his eyes met yours through his long eyelashes, in reaction you clench your thighs together, your clit begging for some sort of friction and is granted when the seam of your pants rub on your clit harshly, you grit your teeth and bite your tongue, swallowing the moan that threatened to escape. “Oberyn let’s not make our guest uncomfortable.” Oberyn starts to lick the inside of the ramekin, maintaining eye contact, the white dessert sticking to his moustache as he pulls the glass away from his sticky lips, “I don’t think she minds, do you gorgeous?” Your cheeks feel red, you don’t bother to look away and laugh, facing the King who had one eyebrow raised at his brothers antics. “Truly I do not mind. I find the banter amusing.” King Doran shrugs, accepting your answer. “I must settle and agree we’re all on the same page about how wonderful that dessert is, and the entire menu we are delighted with.” A sense of pride fills your chest, puffing it slightly, showing your pride. Fredrick collects the ramekins, and all are empty but Ellaria’s who had eaten only half. “I disagree. It’s simply not good enough for a Kings wedding.” You bite your lip, failing to hide your disappointment as your shoulders slightly deflate, an action that everyone in the room noticed, “I apologise Princess, I would be happy to make something more to your liking.” King Doran scoffs, “she is no Princess, merely Oberyn’s paramour.” Ellaria stands, infuriated by your presence and the way the King supported you. “The only reason we are not wed is because you refused us. It’s not for lack of love, is it darling?” Oberyn was silent, Ellaria’s face was bright red, she rushed towards you with a look in her eyes that scared you. Subconsciously you shrink and make yourself look smaller, her previous threats raw in your mind as she stands before you, standing over you.

“You did this, you corrupted him.” She points her finger and the King had decided he’s seen enough. “Guards! Escort this woman out of this room and she is excused from joining us for dinner this evening.” The guards restrain the seething woman, shouting obscenities on her way out, all of them directed at you. The King stands from his throne and guides you to stand, “we would like it if you would please join us for dinner, I’m deeply sorry about her.” You nod meekly, accepting his offer although still worried about being in the same building as the woman that held so much rage towards you. “My brother is your destiny after all, how could you refuse?” Your mouth is left agape as he walks away with a smirk, his fiancé on his arm as he shouts before exiting the room, “Oberyn, you’ll show her to her room. Nothing more.” He warns, walking out and leaving you with him.

He approaches you slowly, his arms taking your hands in his, holding them to his face. “I cannot apologise enough for your poor treatment.” You shrink under the eyes of Oberyn, exposing his vulnerable side to you. “It’s okay-“ he shakes his head before tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, “don’t you dare. Don’t excuse her behavior, she’s dangerous.” “Oh.” You were speechless, why did destiny pair you with a man whom was involved with a woman that wanted to hurt you?

“I’ll escort you to your chambers, you can freshen up there before dinner.” The walk through the halls were silent, you admired the beauty of this building, quiet gasps of awe didn’t go unheard by Oberyn, in fact he adored the noise, he adored you.

You soon came to a stop in front of a giant door, he opened it and the room was huge, a massive wooden bathtub in the center of the room, a King-sized bed and a beautiful bed frame with silk bedsheets, the sun had begun setting, painting a beautiful picture of purples, pinks and yellow. “Wow, are you sure this is for me?” Oberyn guided you in and followed shortly behind, turning on the hot water for you and moving to the bench to pour a glass of champagne. “All for you.” His body moved against yours, your back to his stomach, your body stills nervously, and his lips grazed your ears. “Check the cupboard for your gown. Enjoy yourself gorgeous, I’ll see you at dinner.” The scruff of his facial hair tickled your neck as he pulled away, the ghost of him remained well after he left. As you emerged yourself in the hot water of the bubble bath in the tub, you sip on your champagne and your hand of its own accord started to slip under the surface of the bubbles, rubbing your clit in perfect circles, finally relieving some of the pressure that had built, thinking of him, wishing he was touching you, unknown to you he was outside of your door listening to you moan his name as you touched yourself, his cock hardening at your hushed whimpers.

You pull open the cupboard and find a dress, it’s beyond anything you could’ve ever seen yourself in, a floor length gold dress, accents all over that make the dress shimmer, a sweetheart neckline that fit perfectly, showing a sexy-but not obscene amount of your breasts. You slide on your black heels and let your hair loose, wavy curls falling down your back from being in a braid all day.

As promised, Fredrick met you at your door, escorting you to the dining room, walking through many halls you were so sure you’d get lost in.

The dining room was stunning, the dark wooden table was clothed with the finest linen you’d ever seen, the soft almost velvety touch under your fingers. The giant crystal chandelier hung low to the table and you gasped in awe, the trinkets reflecting a rainbow hue on the walls. King Doran and his fiancée were waiting for you, standing to greet you and you sat across from an empty seat, wondering if Oberyn would be join you.

“Oberyn how wonderful of you to finally join us.” King Doran jested. You took him in as he walked through the hall, his body half slumped and eyes filled with someone indescribable. “Apologises, had some things to take care of.” I had to deal with Ellaria.

His eyes meet yours and you didn’t realise you were starting, thankfully you were interrupted by the waiter, announcing dinner was prepared and ready to be served, 4 waiters bought food to the table, the smell was incredible. A giant roast chicken sat in the centre of the table, roasted vegetables, corn and fresh bread. It smelt absolutely incredible. “Wine, for her lady?” You shake your head in refusal and the King dismisses you, “you must have at least one drink, what’s your taste? We have it all.” You didn’t deny it, they surely would have every year and flavour of wine, you opted for your favourite; 1990 Penfolds Bin 920 Cabernet Shiraz. “A woman with expensive taste, fetch the lady her wine.” You bit your lip, that was a $600 bottle of red wine, you couldn’t help but feel guilty, you were a guest requesting something that expensive. A hand met your own, “what’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours?” His thumb rubbing your hand reassuringly. “It’s nothing at all, just hope I’m not imposing or anything.” I hope you’re not mad I’m sitting in your paramours seat.

He frowns at your admission, seeing through your kindness to your true anxiety. “I want you here. Fret no longer, darling. Enjoy your meal.” You smiled, a true eye crinkling smile that makes his heart leap, the same smile he wished to see every day for the rest of forever. You dished yourself some slices of chicken, roast vegetables and a slice of fresh buttered bread, the smell of the bread erupts a groan from you. “Satisfactory to your liking?” King Doran questions you, “do you want the ‘me’ answer or the Chef answer?” The King chuckles and you join him, easily relaxing around the men you haven’t known long. “Both, if you’re willing to share.” You clear your throat with some cold water and set it back on the coaster, “I like it, it smells incredible, crunchy crust and soft on the inside. The chef in me just wishes for a little more salt in the dough.” “You’re good at picking up on things, aren’t you?” Oberyn watches you eagerly, knowing you’re picking up on the sultry nature behind his question. “I like to think I’m reasonable.” Neutral. Don’t make the King and his fiancée uncomfortable, you’re here on business-not pleasure. Unfortunately.

The waiter comes back with the wine and opens it for you, pouring the deep red goodness into your cup, the smell was a little off, a strange aroma emitting from the wine, the walnut, blackcurrant and vanilla tones overwhelmed by something potent, a scent that had your nostril hairs singe when you first take a whiff, your face scrunching as you did so. The King sets his cutlery down, “Is there an issue with the wine?” You frown, not wanting to cause a scene, “It smells a bit off to me, but I’m sure it’s fine!” You bring your lips to the rim of the cup, lips closed over it, and before you can drink Oberyn slaps the wine glass from your hands, spilling the crimson liquid all over the once pearl while table linen. “Don’t drink that.” You look around confused, looking to the cup in Oberyn’s hand you see a yellow-transparent liquid around the rim, immediately you realised how badly you fucked up. It wasn’t the wine-it was the cup, the rim tainted with poison?

Your body seizes up and you fall to the floor, body crippled in pain and you start seeing doubles in your vision, Oberyn chanting your name frantically as he shakes you. Falling into the lulling call of unconsciousness as it sings out to you, wishing you trusted your intuition as she tried to warn you, now it was too late, whatever density had in store for you was already decided.

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