Chapter 57
EDDARD STARK
Of all the kingdoms, he had expected to be their ally when Stannis and Renly had first risen in rebellion, Dorne had never come to his mind. The animosity between Dorne and the Seven Kingdoms was a tale as old as time.
The circumstances of the last rebellion had only added to that animosity, and Eddard was himself ashamed and regretful over the fate suffered by the Princess and her children. So, he had been fairly surprised when the Martells had heeded the Crown's call and attacked both the Reach and the Stormlands, coming to their aid.
He had found himself even more surprised when a servant had come to come and told him about the arrival of a special envoy from the desert kingdom, forcing him to come to the Throne Room to greet their unlikely and suspicious allies.
"I do hope you forgive the lack of a proper welcome, we were not expecting you or your party," for he had much greater things to worry about than satisfying the egos of foreign lords and ladies.
And the retinue was smaller than he had expected, and was made up of only four people, being led by none other than the Red Viper himself and three girls. The black lustrous hair of the Red Viper of Dorne now had a few silver streaks in it, though his body had retained its athleticism and quickness as he shrugged off his apology and answered.
"I am not much fond of grand welcomes either way," he whispered looking around the throne room, and his feet moved in such a practised and quiet manner, producing no sound at all, reminding him that the man in front of him was more than just a great warrior.
He was a killer, one who had little love for his family.
"As you must be aware, the Seven Kingdoms are at war once more, and there is little time and appetite for ceremonies," he added, as the man simply nodded, choosing to walk around him as he examined the Hall.
"These must be your daughters," he asked, looking at three girls, each of whom could be no different than the other.
"Yes, or at least three of them," the man answered, and there was genuine joy in his eyes as he introduced them all, though Eddard had heard tales of them before. The Seven Kingdoms had very few female warriors, and the Sand Snakes were amongst the prominent one's of this generation.
"Obara, here is my eldest," the taller girl said. Unlike the other two, she was tall and thick with a burly beauty, her movements were rough and lacked the grace of the second one.
"Nymeria, comes after her." she was thinner and had a more feminine face and features, and the youngest of the three stepped forward next.
"And the last one is Tyene." She was the youngest and the most different, with blonde hair, but all three of them had their father's eyes, and if rumors were true, his talents for killing as well.
"The world calls them Sands, but they are my daughters, my blood, for we do not care much for bastards in Dorne," and that was the Dornish way, and then his eyes narrowed towards him as he added.
"You had a bastard of your own, didn't you, Lord Stark?" he asked, and the mention of Jon caught him by surprise, but Eddard nodded with a stiff lip.
"Though I heard that you made him a Stark and gave him a castle of your own," and he was a bit surprised that word about this had already reached Dorne.
"He was my son," Eddard added, and Oberyn nodded.
"Yes, he was your son," and for a second, he feared that the man in front of him knew of the secret, but Eddard assured himself that it was not possible, that there was no way for him to know.
"Still, I find these Halls rather mundane. They lack both the urgency of war, or the celebration of a wedding," he wondered what he was expecting. Dealing with him was a headache, for he had to parse through each of his words to look for any hidden meaning.
"There is still time for the wedding. As for the war, the Greyjoys' initial attack has been a failure, and the Iron Throne will step in only if the need arises," and the man clicked his tongue.
"A true shame," he seemed genuinely irked by his words.
"I had hoped to satiate my hunger by fighting in a war, and yet I find myself in these wretched Halls once again with nothing to do," and suddenly the man walked up to a column, and turned towards him.
"This is where he stood right," he asked, making him frown, for he did not know what he was talking about.
"This is where he stood, when he laughed at the death of my sister and her nephews," the words sent a chill down his spine, as the whole throne room went silent.
"Father..." he heard the three Sand Snakes gasp, as the Red Viper of Dorne looked him in the eye and continued.
"Little babes wrapped in red cloth," he whispered, as Eddard's mind whipped back to the tragedy from years ago, and despite it being decades ago, the scenes from that day still haunted his sleep.
"They say he laughed, as he saw them," there was a rage, in that voice.
"Laughed as he was presented the bodies of my niece and nephew. Called them Dragonspawn," the whole thing had caused a rift between him and Robert, one which had healed only after the Greyjoys' had rebelled.
"But the Gods are fair, and the Demon of the Trident found his end in a fire, one that ate him and his own babe," and the man sighed.
"Robert is dead. What happened to your sister and her children was a tragedy...."
"It did not happen by chance," the man cut in.
"No. My sister and her children were killed in these very Halls," he retorted angrily.
"Killed by Lannister dogs," he was in his face.
"I came to this capital to see them again, to look into their eyes and seek justice," he clicked his tongue as he pushed back his hair.
"But consider my disappointment when I find out that the Gods had robbed me of the chance to confront my sister's killers once more. I shall pray for their safety, that they come back alive from this war," As expected, the man was a menace to deal with.
"Father..." the three daughters cut in finally, stopping the man who came out of his trance.
"Apologies for my words, it is just that the sight of these Halls made my tongue loose," it had also shown him that Dorne had not forgotten.
"It is no time to bring out old grudges. So, tell me where are our new King and Queen," his tone had turned jovial in all but a second.
"The Princess Myrcella and her betrothed are riding towards the capital. They shall arrive in a few days. Servants have prepared quarters for you and your retinue," but the waved it away.
"I have no need of quarters, not in this place" again the anger and the fire returned.
"I will make do on my own, but I cannot say the same for my niece," Eddard frowned at his words.
"Niece?" he asked, as the man smiled.
"Yes, I rode ahead because of my impatience, but the main party is still half a day's ride from here. It is a Royal Wedding, and Dorne sends its Princess to congratulate the new King and Queen on their union..."
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TYRION LANNISTER
The ride back to the capital was not as triumphant or jubilant as he had expected. They had been hosted at a few castles, but the realm was nervous as it found itself amidst a new war. The Iron Islands may have failed in their initial assault, but they were a kingdom nonetheless, a rugged, barbaric Island kingdom, one which refused to learn its lessons.
And while Robert may have been too generous in his pardons and wars. He wondered if their new King would share his predecessor's generosity.
The Stark boy was young and was technically a King consort, but even now, as he rode in front of the Queen's carriage, the men around them all looked to him, the Lords bowed to him, for everyone knew that he had won the war.
The boy was smart enough to know that his rule was dependent on his marriage and alliance, so he gave quite a bit of attention to his future lady wife as he regaled her with all the proper respect and dignity that Robert never spared for Cersei.
His father and Lord Stark had agreed that a quick marriage would do much to bring together the realm, and so the preparations were underway in the capital, and young King and Queen would wed within the moon, despite the ongoing war to bring much needed stability.
"You are rather attentive to your new wife," he teased their King as he joined him in the front of the retinue as the stench of the capital hit their noses, and the boy raised a brow.
"You say that as if it is a bad thing," he asked, and it was not.
"No. Not at all," Tyrion had been a romantic himself once, yet as the memories of that girl and that day tried to resurface, he reached into his belt and put the flagon of wine to his mouth not to let his mind wander.
"As a loyal servant of the realm, nothing brings me more joy than to see a strong bond between its King and Queen," though he had never thought that the quiet and cold boy had this side to him, or was it all just a ploy?
"I just never thought that you had this side to you," for in the years that Tyrion had known him, he could count the number of times he had seen the boy smile apart from around his family on his two hands.
"The fate of more than two million lives rests in our hands. A rift between us could tear apart the realm and destroy thousands of lives," that was a very pragmatic and practical way of thinking, and perhaps this was why his own father was rather fond of the boy, which was quite a rarity.
"So you are doing this only for the realm," he asked, taking another sip, and the boy shook his head.
"Myrcella and I both like each other enough," at least his niece liked him enough. He often wondered how much he cared for her.
"Like each other? And you have pledged yourself to the girl," and at that, the boy's head whipped towards him, as he began angrily.
"So, you were the one who put that nonsense in her head!" and he chuckled, seeing him frustrated as he laughed.
"You should thank me. The girls at Riverrun poisoned her mind, and so she came running to me, asking about your affairs," and Tyrion still had nightmares about that, for he had never thought that he would have to explain such matters to his own niece.
But he was also touched that of all the people she had come to him, and thankfully, he was not forced to lie.
"I spun quite a few tales about your virtues and stoicism," none of which were a lie per se, but he had given the young couple a helping hand, hoping that they would avoid the fallacies that had brought much pain to Robert and his sister.
"It seems like all your years of celibacy were not for naught." Still, the promise he had made to his niece was something few men would do, and had done much to assuage her nervous heart, which was quite necessary, for beyond those walls, vultures gathered to prey on them and the realm.
"Well, It was not much really. I never had any such intentions," he could attest to that.
"And that alone makes you a wiser King than Robert ever was," but Robert was dead, and the realm was at war; Cregan would need to be a much wiser King if he wished to rule for more than two decades.
The boy gave a nod before he eyed him with a complicated expression.
"Let us move ahead a bit," and Tyrion frowned but followed after him, as he pushed his horse to gallop ahead.
"I have something I want to say to you," and Tyrion nodded.
"Of course," and the boy sighed before he told him the ugliest truth of his life.
"Your father has no desire to name you his heir...."
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