Yes

Two nights later you stand in the dark alley beside Chataya’s brothel, holding a dark woolen cloak around your shoulders with a large hood to conceal your face.

Men and women walk up and down the alley in various states of undress, many of them giving you nervous glances. You hope that Oberyn will not be too long in arriving or you may attract trouble before long.

“Alayaya, my darling!” You hear a familiar voice from the other side of the alley.

Oberyn leans against the wall and chats with a dark skin young girl in red silk. You can’t hear much from where you are, but you casually close the distance between you and overhear him talking about Lord Tywin.

“He should want another sponge bath tonight, I should think,” he says with distaste. “The Madame always leaves him with aches and pains.”

“I have shared a wall with the Madame before,” Alayaya says. “I do not understand the things she does to men. Sometimes I almost believe that she is killing them.”

Oberyn smiles playfully. “Then perhaps Lord Tywin will not live much longer.”

Alayaya giggles at what she takes for a jest.

Oberyn takes a step towards her and puts his hand to her cheek. Alayaya blushes. “I am glad to have you alone tonight, Alayaya. Sometimes I wish I…”

You see your opportunity to act. Oberyn stands with his back against you, and his companion has yet to see you in the shadows.

“What?” Alayaya asks him, her eyes wide and doleful.

Your knife slips around his throat. You say if anyone makes a sound you’ll cut his throat.

Alayaya’s scream dies in her hands covering her mouth. She looks as though she may faint. “Let him go, sir.” She begs quietly. “Do not harm him, please!”

You tell her that on your honour he will not come to any harm as long as she does what you say. You throw a cloth gag at her and a pair of steel shackles.

“Yes, sir,” she says with tears in her eyes. “Have me instead, I am used to it. Leave this man alone.”

She willingly ties the gag tight around her mouth and fits the shackles to her feet. You push Oberyn head-first into the wall, kneeing into his back. You blindfold him and use a rope to tie his hands together.

Alayaya’s scream is barely audible around her gag as she watches you cut away Oberyn’s clothing. As the knife runs through the back of his satin doublet, the shirt slips from his shoulders into tatters on the floor. You roughly **** a gag into his mouth as you pull down his satin trousers and take off his shoes, leaving him shivering in his smallclothes.

Alayaya attempts to run for help even in her shackles, but she quickly falls to the floor hitting her head on the cobblestones. You throw Oberyn over your shoulder as his screams slobber around the improvised gag, and run with him into the next ally.

Your men meet you and escort you to your ship, Oberyn still slung over your shoulder, squirming with so much bare flesh against the cool night air.

The men get ready to set sail while you carry Oberyn to your quarters. You place him on a large table in your room, hogtied on his belly, and remove the blindfold from his eyes. His eyes are red and puffy. You can tell he is trying to say something from the saliva forming around his gag.

When you remove the gag, Oberyn takes a long shuddering breath. He looks at you with a curious mix of anger, resentment, satisfaction, and something else you can’t quite place. There is a small bruise on his forehead from where you pushed him into the wall. You enjoy the sight of him helpless in his smallclothes, legs and hands tied together, ass jiggling on the table as he squirms.

“I suppose I did ask for such treatment,” he says with a peculiar tone. “And there will be no doubt to Lord Tywin that I have been kidnapped after that monstrous display of yours. Now, untie me, Your Grace, and show me to my quarters for some rest.”