Chapter 20: GOT : Chapter 20
( Oberyn )
Everything was tranquil as the two brothers faced each other in the middle of the Gardens. Only the sound of birds and the faint sound of the waves crashing in the distance could be heard.
It was an eerie feeling, to be sure.
Nothing had changed around the great pool, really. A few palm trees had grown, some had been cut down. A few blood orangers had grown, and a few had been cut down.
It was all the same, exact, setting as all these years ago, when the two brothers had met. Only they had aged, but the houses, pools and trees seemingly hadn't.
He remembered pleading with his brother to continue the rebellion, then. They had both lost so much. Thousands of Dornishmen had died at the Trident, leaving widows and children behind. The Targaryens were dead, deposed or in exile. Rhaegar, slain. But most of all, Elia, their sweet, innocent, sister, was dead, along with her two children.
It had taken him every inch of patience to not go to King's Landing and demand vengeance right then and there.
But there would be none of that. Instead, Oberyn made his way to Dorne and pleaded for his brother to declare for Viserys Targaryen and continue the fight.
We cannot. Doran had told him. Mace Tyrell has bent the knee. The Reach has switched sides. If we decide to continue the fight, we must have allies, and we cannot stand alone against Six kingdoms. We could bloody their noses, but a third of our armies lie dead and broken at the Trident. How could we expect to hold against the Lannisters and Tyrells who have lost but a fraction of their men?
He hated it.
He hated it when his brother was right.
He had loathed him then. Called him a fool and a craven.
But he was right. It was suicide to continue the fight without the Reach. How long could they have held? One, two, maybe three years?
We need to be patient. The Usurper's crown is bathed in blood and soon enough his kingdoms will slip away from his grasp.
He was convinced at the time, but now? Balon's rebellion showed that the kingdoms were united. And although one could make the point that these were but Ironborn, and everyone hated these pirates, only Dorne refused the call to arms.
Worse, this conflict might have strengthened the Usurper's power which seemed to have slipped away.
When the time is right and the Usurper's sees his kingdoms crumble, we will make our move. The Targaryens are not dead. Doran had said. There are two left. By betrothing Arianne to Viserys, we will get our blood on the throne. By giving Quentyn's hand to the newborn Tyrell girl, or the Targaryen girl to one of the Tyrell boys, we will bring the Reach to us.
It was a good plan, he'd thought. Wait for the kingdoms to crumble apart under the Usurper's thumb, and then come in as the saviours of the realm and place their blood on the throne.
But the years had come and gone, and nothing had happened.
Only Jon Arryn's death had sounded like good news, and even then, Eddard Stark had accepted the handship, ensuring a few more years of peace.
Oberyn's blood boiled at the idea of the fat king continuing his reign without seeing justice be served. A few more years, he'd said to himself, a few more years and he would have vengeance. But the kingdoms never crumbled. And he was done waiting.
"What a mess."
Doran finally broke the silence.
"Did you know?" Oberyn simply asked.
"About what?" Doran replied nonchalantly.
"Viserys." Oberyn's brow furrowed. "Is he as mad as his father?"
"I…"
"Of course, you knew." Oberyn scoffed. "And you forgot to tell me?"
"I wasn't sure." Doran replied. "News from Essos are scarcely reliable, and gossip from the Usurper's spies could have made their way into my reports. I needed to be fully sure that we were not getting played."
"And you never called off the betrothal?"
"I…"
"Brother." Oberyn said, looking his older brother in the eyes. "I have agreed with every single one of your plans, but I will not let Arianne suffer the same fate as Elia, you can be sure of that."
"I would never let anything happen to her." Doran growled. "She's my daughter. My only daughter."
"Good." Oberyn nodded. "And the information about Viserys betrothing his sister to the Dothraki khal, was Quentyn right about that?"
"If he is, he is better informed that I am." Doran sighed. "The spider informed me that the Targaryens were safe in Pentos, and another source in Norvos told me that a khalassar passed close to the city, but didn't touch it, and kept going west. If we take these two sources, then it might be logical…"
"The fucking spider…" Oberyn hissed. "The question would be: did the Targaryen boy come up with the idea himself or was it whispered to him?"
"If what Quentyn said is true, then I fear the spider isn't as reliable as we thought he was." Doran acknowledged. "And the Dothraki cannot cross oceans, for they fear the water is poisoned as their horses cannot drink it. I do not know what the whisperer is playing at, but it changes the game entirely."
"What now?" Oberyn asked.
"We need to reconsider our position." Doran sighed. "With the Targaryens out of the picture, we need to find a way to find our revenge elsewhere. I have not forgotten Elia and her children, and never will. The rumours that come from the capital tell me that the whole place is ready to explode at any moment. The Lannisters and Baratheons cannot stand each other. Stannis has been sidelined, Renly plots with Mace Tyrell, and the arrival of the Northmen might be the spark that ignites everything."
"And our blood on the throne?" Oberyn asked.
"There lies the tricky part." Doran replied. "I know not how to obtain it. The Targaryens are out of the board, lest Daenerys find a way out of Essos. This doesn't give us any real options to overthrow the Baratheons. Dividing the kingdoms again might just be the solution to that problem."
Oberyn nodded. They had run out of ideas. If the Targaryens were well and truly out of the picture, gone in the depths of the Dothraki Sea, they needed a backup, and fast.
"Will you reinstate Arianne as your heir, then?" Oberyn asked. "I agree that her education has been lacking, but it isn't too late…"
"No." Doran cut him off. "As much as it pains me to say, but even if I wanted to, I couldn't."
"Why? She's your eldest child."
"But all of Dorne considers her to be a kinslayer." Doran countered. "The people of Dorne would never accept her to be named my heir. Especially with the serving boy's revelations."
"Why is that? The Drinkwaters are but a minor house."
"Because, if you hadn't noticed, Anders Yronwood's wife is Isabel Drinkwater." Doran pressed on. "An attempt on the heir of House Drinkwater is indirectly an attempt on House Yronwood, and the last time someone poisoned a member of House Yronwood, it didn't go well."
"Point taken."
"If word reaches the Yronwoods, they will ask for retribution to Arianne, and I will not have another family member exiled or killed for a foolish mistake." His brother angrily continued. "By the time Quentyn returns to Sunspear, the serving boy will have been disposed of. I know what you are going to ask me and I shall not answer. Know that this affair will be silenced."
"Then what is all the fuss about?"
"Because, again, Arianne has gone too far. She may not have wished harm on her brother, but her relationship with Daemon, the fact that he was wearing her favour, that Arianne did not have any concerns about her brother during his recovery, and finally, that Daemon confessed to her wishing harm on Quentyn makes it that my hands are tied." Doran explained. "If I declare Arianne as heir, we will have war…within Dorne."
"Quentyn wouldn't dare move against his sister."
"I'm not so sure about that." Doran replied with a heavy heart. "And besides, even if he didn't, then Dorne would rise for him anyways. I will not have bloodshed, and I will not give our enemies a chance to meddle in our affairs."
"What is to happen, then?" Oberyn sighed, defeated.
"I should have Daemon's head for what he did." Doran clenched his fists. "He nearly took a son from me. But Quentyn wished to have him spared, and so I will let him have his freedom. Your former squire will be exiled to Norvos to serve Lady Mellario for a period of ten years. He will then be free to do what he pleases, but will not be allowed back to Dorne.
I will draft a formal document stripping Arianne of her rights to Sunspear. Quentyn will be my heir, and if the worst comes to pass, Trystane will inherit it in turn.
Finally, I will find a husband for Arianne, that is both befitting of her station and that could help us in our plans."
"You declined both Willas Tyrell and Edmure Tully." Oberyn pointed out.
"I declined them when she was still betrothed to Viserys. In any case, Edmure Tully is insignificant. The Riverlands are trapped between hammer and anvil, and won't be of any use to us." Doran waved him off. "Willas Tyrell on the other hand is something I wish to reconsider. Lady of Highgarden is still an important role, and one that could bring us many benefits."
Oberyn smiled widely. He had often pushed for an alliance to be sealed by marriage to the Reach, if only to cover their tracks. While Doran was insistent on pushing for Quentyn's betrothal to Margaery when the time came, he was much more open to betrothing Willas to Arianne.
Willas was a smart, capable and careful ruler, and he could tame Arianne's impulses. Similarly, Arianne could give a fire to his life that the broken flower desperately needed.
"You agree to a betrothal, then?" Oberyn asked.
Doran shook his head.
"When and if the time comes, perhaps." Doran replied. "But not now. We cannot afford to reveal our hand, especially since I have another match in mind for her."
"And who would that be?" Oberyn asked, confused.
"Robb Stark."
"You cannot be serious." Oberyn replied, shocked. "You want to give your daughter's hand to the son of a traitor?"
"I'm contemplating the possibility."
"Have you gone mad?"
"No." Doran replied simply. "Lord Eddard Stark might be Hand right now, but the Northmen are fools if they think the snakes in the capital will abide by their rules. I give Stark a year before he throws down that golden chain. The rift that this would cause between him, the Baratheons and the Lannisters might just be the spark we need to light a fire from the Boneway to the Wall."
"Eddard Stark will never betray the Usurper and you know it." Oberyn seethed. "He will stay loyal as a dog."
"Mayhaps we could convince him otherwise. Tell me, why do you think Stannis Baratheon barricaded himself on Dragonstone?"
Oberyn shook his head.
"The answer might surprise you." Doran smiled. "In any case, a betrothal to Winterfell would bring us the Riverlands and the Vale along with the North. These are three kingdoms, brother. Ruled by Lord Stark."
"The Starks are responsible for what happened to Elia and the children!" Oberyn rose, furious.
"Sit down." Doran motioned angrily.
"Forgive me, brother." Oberyn nodded. "I forgot myself."
"See to it that it doesn't happen again." Doran frowned. "The Starks have seen their family butchered at the hands of the Mad King. They have lost as much as we did in the Rebellion. Tell me, if Aerys had murdered me, Elia and father instead, would you not have called for war?"
"I…"
"As I thought." Doran scoffed.
"Stark was complicit in the murders, he…"
"Was against them and argued for Lorch and Clegane to be executed." Doran continued. "It was Jon Arryn that persuaded the Usurper not to do so. Enraged, Stark left the capital to find his sister. It was the loss of her sister somewhere in the Red Mountains that mended his and the Usurper's friendship. You ought to remember that."
Oberyn nodded.
"Good."
"And Quentyn?" Oberyn asked.
"Quentyn will inherit Dorne as I…"
"I meant in terms of betrothals."
"Oh." Doran raised an eyebrow.
"Well, Margaery Tyrell is still an option, but I'd like Quentyn to remain unmarried."
"Why is that?"
"Because mayhaps Daenerys Targaryen will find that the life on a khalasar is not one that she wanted, or decides to leave her brother, and our agents will be swift to help her out of that situation, should she manage to escape." Doran answered. "Fire and blood are still an option, and I plan on leaving that possibility open for as long as I can."
Oberyn nodded. A backup plan. But why not spirit Daenerys away right now? This didn't make sense.
Doran settled back down and poured some wine, handing Oberyn a glass. Raising his, he announced:
"King's Landing is about to blow. Someday, someone will light the fuse and our time will finally come to strike. To our vengeance."
"To our vengeance."
As Oberyn drank he couldn't help but feel uneasy. Plans were never set in stone, but he feared that he would never see the day of them actually being put into motion. Maybe they needed a little push…
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