Midnight Aristocracy
Chapter 1
~Elia Martell~
Elia Martell clutched her crying daughter to her chest and tried to ignore the slurping sounds coming from the corner of the room.
Under other circumstances, she would be grateful that the man who was going to murder her daughter had been stopped. Under other circumstances, she would be glad that the man who had murdered her son had been killed. Under other circumstances, she would be thankful that the man who had tried to rape her had been stopped. And some part of her mind was all those things, but mainly she was just terrified.
Elia was terrified because the man who had come through the window and killed Clegane and his accomplice wasn't a loyal Dornishman, wasn't a valiant knight, wasn't even a mercenary, any of those would have at least been understandable in their motivations. No, the man who was currently in the room with Elia and Rhaenys was a monster in human form. Watching him punch through Gregor Clegane's armor and pull the man's heart from his chest was enough to convince Elia of that.
When the room went silent Elia found her gaze drawn to her rescuer and immediately wished she hadn't looked. He was now rising to his feet and looking directly at Rhaenys. He was a bit on the tall side with a long face and short brown hair, all in all, a rather ordinary looking northerner (though seemingly unhealthily skinny) with one large exception. Even if his mouth and chin weren't slathered red with dripping blood, he would have been terrifying. Because a normal person's mouth shouldn't open that far and it shouldn't be filled with razor sharp fangs. And they were fangs, he hadn't simply filed his teeth down to points.
His grey eyes finally left Rhaenys and turned to meet Elia's stare. To her surprise, he turned away first, staring down at the body of the Mountain That Rides.
For the first time since he had entered the room, the creature finally spoke. His voice was deep and raspy, like boulders tumbling down a mountain. "I suppose that's just one more mistake I can add to my list. I should have had you two leave the room before I gorged myself."
He sighed deeply and then turned back to look at Elia. "She didn't see that, did she? Bad enough I killed Armory Lock in front of her."
Elia stared silently as she tried to process what she just heard. Not only the words, but his tone of voice, he sounded genuinely regretful. It was not what she expected.
"She. . . she hasn't looked up since she ran to me," Elia finally answered as she stroked her daughter's hair.
"Probably for the best," the man said, seemingly as much to himself as to Elia. He gave a shake of his head, which sent blood droplets splattering across the floor. "Right, well we need to get out of here. These men were sent by Tywin Lannister to ensure a smooth change to Baratheon royalty and he won't be happy to find out that they failed."
Elia couldn't help but look to the side, at the large bloodstain left on the wall from where Aegon had struck it when Clegane had thrown him. "They didn't fail in that regard precisely," she said quietly.
Elia could feel the tears forming in her eyes. Not now, I'll mourn Aegon later. I need to focus on getting Rhaenys to safety first. She gave a shake of her head to clear her sight.
"My apologies for not getting here sooner."
Elia turned to look back at the man. Once again, he sounded like he meant what he said. Lies were a part of life in King's Landing but Elia liked to think she had gotten pretty good at picking up on when people were faking most emotions. This man, for however much of a monster he was, had a heart and was concerned for her and her family, that counted for a lot right now.
And then he stuck his tongue out and proceeded to lick up some of the blood from around his mouth. Elia shuddered and tried not to imagine the man feasting on her or Rhaenys. She failed to keep the pictures out of her head and gave a soft sob, hugging her daughter tighter.
Elia took a few deep breaths to calm herself. His horrifying drinking habit can be addressed later. Right now he's our only chance to get out of the city. "I agree we need to leave but how? Lannister men are going to be throughout the city."
"That's actually why I didn't arrive sooner. I was securing safe passage for you to Dorne. You're going to want some warm and comfortable blankets, it will be a long, chilly ride in the saddle."
Two people and a small child riding by horse to Dorne from King's Landing was going to be dangerous but Elia's more immediate concern was simply getting out of King's Landing. How will we reach the gates? Will he kill everyone that tries to stop us? He probably could, given how easily he killed the Mountain. Maybe he wants that? Wants blood to drink. Maybe he wants to kill so many people he could bathe in the blood right in the streets. Will he remember to protect us while he's killing everyone?
Elia startled as she realized she had been lost in thought while the man stared at her. She cleared her throat awkwardly. "There should be some blankets in the outer room. Grab however many you think we'll need."
The man nodded and started to turn but then paused. "By the way, my name is Torrhen St-well, just Torrhen is fine."
Elia contemplated Torrhen's near slip of the tongue as the man walked out the door. Given his cheap manner of dress, it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume he was going to say Snow. He would hardly be the first bastard to be embarrassed by their status, especially in front of such a high ranking noble. But Elia wondered if that was right. While he seemed ashamed of his behavior and didn't want to mention his name, he wasn't acting nervous in front of her.
So then what would explain his behavior? Guilt over what he did? . . . or what he's going to do?
While Elia wouldn't be surprised if some Northerners wanted revenge for what happened to Rickard and Brandon Stark, she had to admit that if Torrhen was trying to lead her away for that purpose, it was the most convoluted way to do so. He could kill her and Rhaenys right here and now if he wanted and there wouldn't be a thing she could do to stop him, there was no reason to try and sneak the two of them out of the city. . . unless he wanted the extra time.
Elia held her daughter tighter and contemplated whether being raped and then killed by Gregor Clegane was preferable to hours of torture.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Torrhen coming back into the room with an armful of blankets. She noticed that his mouth was clean, he must have wiped off, hopefully not on any of the cloth he was carrying.
"This should be enough to keep you two warm and to. . ." Torrhen trailed off and gave a heavy cough. "Properly cover yourself."
Elia blinked. While it was true that her dress had been torn, leaving parts of herself rather exposed, given everything that had happened she hadn't expected Torrhen to put much thought into modesty. She hadn't even put any thought into it prior this moment, it seemed rather unimportant in comparison to everything else.
"While you figure out how to fashion a quick dress out of these, I've got one last thing to take care of." Torrhen placed the blankets on the floor next to Elia and then walked over to Clegane's corpse. For a moment, Elia thought he was going to resume his meal but instead Torrhen picked up the enormous body and staggered over to the window while muttering, "Stronger than ever but still a pain in the butt to move dead weight. Hehehe, dead weight. That wasn't even intentional."
Torrhen stood next to the window, seemingly waiting for something so Elia grabbed the topmost blanket from the pile.
"Rhaenys, honey? We're going to leave soon and then we'll be safe. But it'll be cold so let's get this around you."
It wasn't easy getting Rhaenys to let go of her long enough to wrap the girl, but Elia eventually managed it. Her daughter almost immediately tried to get back into a hug but Elia first had to tie a blanket around herself. Once that was done however, they quickly resumed holding each other.
Torrhen hadn't moved from his spot. He seemed to be staring at a blank section of wall. Elia debated saying something but decided against disturbing him, for the moment at least.
For reasons that only he knew, Torrhen continued to stand there for several minutes before suddenly leaning back slightly and heaving forward to throw Clegane's body out the window. When he turned to look at Elia, his expression became a frown.
"I said it was going to be cold, you're going to want more than one layer."
"I've ridden horses in the Kingswood before," Elia retorted. "It isn't that cold."
Torrhen sighed. "We aren't riding horses and we won't be going through the Kingswood. Can - can you just put some more on? Please?"
"I'd be more inclined to listen to you if you told me how you planned on getting us out of the city," Elia said. Despite her words, she did reach over with one arm to grab an additional blanket to drape over herself and her daughter.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Torrhen said as he walked over and grabbed two more blankets. Wrapping the first one around Elia and Rhaenys, he took the second over the corner of the room where Aegon's crushed remains lay and knelt down. "Seeing is believing and you'll see soon enough."
"What. . . what are you doing?" Please don't say you're bringing Aegon for a snack. I know I can't stop you but I don't want to see that, he doesn't deserve it Please, he's my baby boy.
Torrhen paused in his actions. "I thought you'd want to bury your son in Dorne, but I also thought you shouldn't have to handle him given. . ."
Oh.
"Given the state he's in," Elia finished for him. "Th-thank you."
Torrhen nodded and continued placing Aegon on the blanket before tying the ends together and tossing the makeshift rucksack around his shoulder. "Anything else I should know before we leave, anything you want to grab?"
Elia stood up and shook her head. "No, my family is all that matters." She shifted Rhaenys in her arms as she started walking towards the door.
"Very well. Let's get out of here and, um. Apologies in advance for scaring you and your daughter."
"It's understan - wait." Elia paused and turned to look at Torrhen as he approached her. "What do you mean 'apologies in advance'?"
Torrhen gave a sad smile as he gently put his hands on Elia's shoulders. "Let me just say that what I'm about to do is not to hurt you or your daughter. So. . . sorry."
Before Elia could respond Torrhen shifted his feet and Elia felt herself being shoved with near the same force that had punctured Clegane's breastplate. She desperately tried to think of whether it would be better to throw her daughter to safety or hold her close when Elia felt her legs catch on the edge of the window and she tumbled backwards, out through it.
Just as Elia was about to scream she landed on something firm. Laying on her back and staring up at the stars above, Elia had to take a moment to assure herself that she was still alive and uninjured. Sitting up, and after calming down Rhaenys who had started loudly sobbing, Elia looked around and blanched at what she saw.
"Told you you wouldn't believe me." Hopping out of the window, Torrhen landed next to Elia. He had yet another blanket draped over his arm that fluttered in the wind. "Should be a pretty safe trip to Dorne though, don't you think?"
Elia could only nod in response, her voice completely lost. They were on the back of a dragon, a dragon which was flying in place just outside the window to the nursery. That alone would have been enough to render her speechless but this wasn't a normal dragon, but the skeletal remains of one, and yet it somehow was able to move and keep itself aloft.
"Glad you agree," Torrhen said as he sat down behind her and the dragon began to fly away from the Red Keep. "I plan on staying pretty high for most of the trip, flying through clouds when possible, hence my insistence on the blankets for you two."
Elia was only half listening, more intent on making sure she had a firm grip on her daughter. She didn't even respond as Torrhen draped the additional blanket over her shoulders. She shifted her weight to try and sit more comfortably on the enormous saddle. Torrhen must have noticed because he spoke again, "Yeaaaah. Our butts are going to be sore by the end of this, I assure you. Dragon saddles were designed for dragons that had meat on their bones. This was the best one I could find, unfortunately."
As they flew off into the night, Elia prayed to any gods that would listen that they safely made it to Dorne. Because at this point, if the Mountainslayer who controlled a flying dead dragon decided to go somewhere else, only divine intervention could stop him.
~Elia Martell~
They flew the rest of the night, a truly surreal experience. They were high enough in the sky that there were no clouds blocking Elia's view of the stars. When she looked down at the ground she could only see pitch blackness, with the very occasional mote of light barely visible from fires. Riding at night was normally quite risky, the fear of the horse mistepping and falling kept people from making the attempt except in the most dire of circumstances, but that wasn't a concern atop a dragon.
And the speed at which they were moving! The wind whipped Elia's hair to and fro and despite having multiple blankets wrapped around herself and Rhaenys, Elia could still feel a bitter chill. If she had gotten on the dragon in nothing but her torn dress Elia was sure she'd have frozen to death before they even left the Crownlands.
As the sun started peaking up across the horizon, Elia realized she knew where they were. She recognized the ruined remains of Summerhall below them and could see the Red Mountains fast approaching up ahead.
We've crossed near the entire Stormlands in a single night, not even ravens fly this fast.
With more light Elia was able to see that the sky was relatively clear of clouds. She found herself wishing that wasn't the case, sunrises on their own were beautiful but clouds helped add additional colors and shapes to the sky.
Seeing this sunrise this high up is truly a unique experience, watching from the ground just isn't the same. It's so peaceful up here. Rhaegar would have loved this.
The realization that Elia had just thought about her husband was a sobering one. It wasn't that she hated the man, she was certainly angry at all his behavior, but they had been friends which was something many nobles of Westeros couldn't say about their own spouses.
For all his talk about prophecy, for all of Aerys' obsession with fire and dragons, it's Rhaenys and myself that were the first to fly on dragonback in over a century.
But not Aegon. Though Torrhen carried Aegon's remains on his back, her son would never get to experience the joy of flying through the sky.
All because of Tywin Lannister, Elia thought bitterly. He knew he had sat out the war, so he needed something big to buy his loyalty to the winning side. And Aegon's life was the price.
Elia shook her head and held Rhaenys tighter in her arms, assuring her that her daughter was still alive.
I shouldn't think about that. If Rhaenys wakes up she mustn't see me crying. I need to be strong for her right now. I can cry when we're safely in Dorne. Think about something else. . . sunrise. Yes, the sunrise. A beautiful sunrise.
As Elia was admiring the view she felt a shift and realized Torrhen was bringing the dragon low for a landing.
"Whooo! Fuck, that sun burns." Torrhen was nearly shouting as he leapt off the saddle onto the ground. He started slapping at his exposed skin and Elia couldn't be sure if it was a combination of stress and lack of sleep but it looked as if smoke was rising from wherever Torrhen struck himself.
Then again, given everything that's happened with Torrhen would a sunburn that burns like actual fire really be that strange? Elia thought to herself.
"I'm gonna yeow I'm gonna lay down. Do whatever ouch you want, we're staying here until there's more cloud cover."
Elia watched as Torrhen crawled into the only bit of shade available, namely the ribcage of the dragon, directly underneath the saddle.
Elia carefully slid down the side of the saddle and onto the ground. Walking a few steps away, she sat down next to a large enough rock that she could use as a backrest. Thanks to all the blankets she had draped over herself, it wasn't as uncomfortable as she had been expecting.
He knew what he was talking about, insisting I cover up. Though he didn't seem bothered by the cold, I guess Northerners really are used to it.
Taking in her surroundings, Elia couldn't help but wonder when the last time a human was here. They had landed on a relatively flat section of a mountain but the surrounding cliffs were far too steep to traverse for all but the most-prepared of climbers.
Elia's wandering gaze eventually settled on the dragon. It was enormous, utterly dwarfing her, yet it was only bones. She wondered how much bigger it would seem if it was alive with flesh and scales covering it. As her imagination was supplying her with images of dragons lifted from some of the paintings in the Red Keep, Elia finally noticed something that she hadn't seen the entire flight: the dragon was holding something in one of its feet.
Is that. . . Clegane? Why is the dragon carrying around a dead man?
Torrhen's voice echoed out from the dragon skeleton, interrupting Elia's thoughts. "She still asleep?"
She debated asking why they were carrying the corpse of her son's murderer, but decided she didn't actually want to know the answer. Instead she said, "Yes, thankfully."
"That's good. After I got in here I realized I might have woken her. Been a while since I've felt pain like this."
Elia gently placed her daughter on the ground next to her, resting Rhaenys's head on her leg. Elia hadn't released her grip during the entire flight, too fearful of her remaining child accidentally falling to her death, but now the muscles in her arms trembled in agony.
Elia didn't want to risk falling asleep, not here and not now, so she did the only thing she could to keep herself awake, keep the conversation going. "After all you've done for us, accidentally waking my daughter is not something I'll hold against you. . . my lord."
"Pfffft. Very subtle princess," Torrhen drolled. "Probing for information is usually better done when you aren't sleep deprived. Means I'm less likely to notice you're doing it."
"You can't honestly expect me to not to," Elia hissed through clenched teeth, trying to keep her voice down. "You're. . . you're. . ."
"A sorcerer? Not human? Commander of the dead? A dragon rider? A Northerner?"
"YES! . . .except that last one."
Torrhen chuckled. "Glad to hear you aren't racist towards my people."
"I'm Dornish, I'm aware of the scorn tha-" Elia paused. "You're distracting me on purpose, aren't you?"
"Not precisely on purpose, no. But I'll take the opportunity when it's so easily presented."
Elia knew her temper was fraying when she snapped back without thinking. "Easily!? I was trained from an early age by my mother, the ruling Princess of Dorne, how to navigate the intrigues of court!"
"And yet you are being distracted, again I might add, by an uncouth barbarian who disdains the social manipulations of you southern nobles. You're stressed and sleep deprived, just try and rest."
"No," Elia protested. "I can't, I mustn't-"
"I get it, I'm a monster, you don't want to sleep around me. But think of your daughter. You don't want to fall asleep while holding her when we're thousands of feet in the air, do you? Get your sleep in now on the ground, it's safer."
Elia could see the logic in his argument.
"Do you swear it on the Old Gods and the New?"
"I don't worship either, so such an oath would be meaningless. But I'll swear on my God, that I will safely get you and your daughter to your family in Sunspear."
A Northerner that worships the Red God? Torrhen continues to surprise me.
"That-" Elia interrupted herself with a yawn as she felt her energy leaving her. "That will have to do."
~Elia Martell~
The further they had gotten into Dorne, the less blankets Elia had needed to ward off the chill from the wind which had turned out to be a good thing as Torrhen ended up needing them to hide from the sun.
One benefit of the Northerner being nearly completely covered as they flew was that Rhaenys was no longer in constant fear of the man, which meant she was instead enjoying the experience of flying. Elia had to admit that if the events leading to this moment had been different, she would be just happy as her daughter.
There really is nothing to compare this to.
While Elia was still wary of Rhaenys slipping from her grasp and falling, it had been several days since they fled King's Landing and the hours upon hours of time flying had gotten her accustomed to the feel of the ride. It was reminiscent of the first time Elia had ridden a horse, she had been so fearful of being thrown but after enough practice she had learned the rhythm of her mount.
"I do believe that is Sunspear up ahead. What do you think is the best way to do this?"
"Do this?" Elia asked, not understanding Torrhen's question.
"Should we just land in the courtyard of the keep? Or would it be better to circle the city a few times and land outside of it? Or something else entirely? I'd hate to get riddled with arrows because we scared your countrymen."
Oh.
"The second one. That way we know everyone sees us and since we'll be outside the walls they'll feel safer."
"Sounds like a plan. I'll have the dragon give a couple roars while we circle, that way we know we have their attention. Hmmm, suppose I should name him now that I think about it. Rhaenys! What's a good name for a dragon?"
What followed was a rather amusing discussion between Torrhen and Rhaenys about the best name for their ride. Rhaenys favored a Valyrian name while Torrhen wanted 'something simple like Sheepstealer' in the Common Tongue.
The debate continued, with neither side willing to concede defeat, all the way until they were flying above Sunspear.
"We'll have to continue this later, Rhaenys. I will admit you've made some good suggestions but I'm still convinced you'll come to see I'm right."
"Nu uh!"
Torrhen chuckled but let the matter drop. "Alright you bag of bones, time to announce our presence!"
The dragon let out an ear-piercing shriek and dipped lower towards the shadow city, giving Elia a clearer view of the smallfolk in the streets. Perhaps unsurprisingly, as soon as they looked up they started running.
We may have made a mistake.
The dragon turned, circling the Old Palace, and let out another scream. Elia could make out guards running along the walls, many of them were holding bows.
This is exactly what we wanted to avoid!
Before she could voice a warning to Torrhen, the dragon turned again, this time away from the city. It flew out, away from the walls before coming in for a landing along the road. Elia thankfully noted they were out of bow range from the city.
"And now we wait. You two can get off to stretch your legs, if you want."
Elia hadn't planned on getting off the dragon, but once Torrhen made his comment she realized how much she did want to move around. She had been sitting for too long.
"Come along Rhaenys, let's go for a walk."
Her daughter didn't immediately get off the saddle, seemingly wanting to resume the discussion on what to call the dragon, but she did as she was told. The pair wandered the area, hand in hand, but keeping in sight of Torrhen who remained seated on his dragon skeleton. Elia used the opportunity to tell Rhaenys about her homeland. She spoke of everything from flowers native to Dorne to games she played with Oberyn when they were children. It was nice, peaceful. Though it could not have been even a full hour before riders on horseback exited the city gates, so Elia and Rhaenys made their way back to Torrhen.
"Maybe you should climb down?" Elia suggested as they waited. "You'll be less threatening on the ground."
"I prefer to stay mounted in case I have to make a hasty getaway."
"Are you expecting to?"
"No, but I arrived with an undead dragon. It took several days before you calmed down around me so I assume it'll be more of the same here."
Elia flushed. The truth was, she had merely gotten better at hiding her discomfort around Torrhen. She could intellectually acknowledge that he had saved her life, and the life of her daughter, and that it made no sense at this point for him to do either of them harm. But emotionally he still scared her on a deep level. Though the ease with which he entertained Rhaenys did help things.
"Your heavily-armed people are approaching. Here's hoping one of them recognizes you."
"Rhaenys, stay behind me," Elia whispered before standing tall and shouting. "Men of Sunspear! Who among you is the leader?!"
"ELIA?!"
It had been two years since she heard that voice, but looking at the lead rider, Elia could tell that underneath all that leather armor was her little brother. "Oberyn!"
~Doran Martell~
For the first time in years, all three of the Martell siblings were in a room together. Along with a few others, they were arrayed around a table in a sitting room. Doran had his wife, Mellario, to his right and Elia sat to his left. Ellaria had originally had her own seat between Mellario and Oberyn, but had wormed her way onto her paramour's lap and was feeding him grapes. On Oberyn's other side was Torrhen, the mysterious Northerner. Behind him stood Areo Hotah, the bodyguard Mellario had brought with her from Norvos. Doran knew Areo would not hesitate to use that longaxe should Torrhen become violent which did not reassure Doran as much as it should have, mainly because Torrhen seemed to be aware of that and was not at all concerned with Areo's presence. Hopefully, the numerous guards waiting outside would even the scales if a fight broke out.
Torrhen had discarded all the blankets he had been wrapped in, something Doran couldn't decide on how he felt. One the one hand, it would have been downright disrespectful of Doran's station if the man kept his face covered for a discussion. But on the other hand, once Doran saw Torrhen's enormous maw with the needle-like teeth, he had a hard time not staring whenever the man talked.
Maybe I can later suggest he stay covered. To protect his skin from the sun, of course.
Elia was getting them caught up on everything that had happened since the last raven she had sent from King's Landing several weeks ago. The story had finally reached the present.
"I must admit," Doran said. "When my wife ran into my solar and told me a dragon was flying around Sunspear, I thought she had taken leave of her senses."
"Only until you heard its roar, dear husband. I don't think I've ever seen you run that fast," Mellario said, a strained smile on her face.
I can't blame her for being nervous. It is not often you meet what might as well be a demon made flesh.
"I wanted to get to the balcony before it flew away." Doran reached over and gave his wife's hand a comforting squeeze. The firmness of her squeeze back confirmed how scared she was.
"You thought it was loud down here? Imagine how it sounded riding it. I felt it deep in my bones," Elia said with a seemingly honest laugh.
It's good to see that she's in high spirits. I'm not sure she's realized the situation we're all in. If Tywin Lannister really sent knights to kill her and her children, it's because he knows they present a threat to the new dynasty sitting on the Iron Throne.
Doran suppressed a sigh as he realized Elia and Rhaenys were probably not going to be leaving the Old Palace for quite some time. Kidnapping and assasination were very real possibilities until the political situation in Westeros stabilized.
I should order our borders reinforced. Invasion is unlikely but the war isn't over yet so anything is possible.
"The roars did their job, getting everyone's attention who hadn't yet seen us."
Doran regarded the man who had just spoken. Torrhen, if that was his real name, had rescued Elia and Rhaenys from King's Landing, and even made sure to bring Aegon's body with him when he brought them to safety. For that, he would always have the gratitude of the Martell family. But that didn't change the fact that he had done so via a flying dragon skeleton.
He's dangerous. Not just in what he can do but in what he represents. We don't even know if one dragon is the limit of his power. Could he raise them all?
Oberyn slapped a hand to the table for emphasis. "That it did. I was otherwise occupied-"
"Balls deep in some pretty woman you mean." Everyone in the room paused, stunned at the brazenness of such a comment coming from a non-Dornishman. Torrhen turned to look Oberyn in the face, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Or maybe it was some pretty man, balls deep in you?"
Oberyn recovered quickly. "Why do you ask? Are you interested?"
Torrhen shook his head. "Nah, if the stories I've heard about you are true it'd be like throwing a sword down a hallway. I'd prefer an appropriate sized scabbard for mine."
"HA!" Oberyn wiggled a finger in Torrhen's direction. "I like you."
"I'm sure flattery gets you into most people's pants, but it won't work on me. I have to protect my virtue until I'm married," Torrhen deadpanned. "I won't fetch a good brice price if you soil me, Ser."
This caused Oberyn to throw his head back and let out a full body laugh, leaving Ellaria to clutch her paramour to keep from slipping off his lap. Doran noted that Torrhen's mouth was twitching, clearly attempting to maintain his composure.
"I'm impressed," Ellaria said once Oberyn had quieted down somewhat, though the man was still chuckling quietly. "Very few people can keep up with my lover like that."
"Are you talking about his sexual prowess or his wits?" Torrhen had barely finished speaking before his facade finally broke and he started to guffaw, which caused Oberyn to start back up again. "Damn! Thought I could keep going for a little while longer."
Seeing that many pointed teeth laughing is rather disturbing.
"Are you talking about your sexual prowess or your wits?" Ellaria responded, which sent the two men into even deeper laughter.
Doran smiled to himself. Oberyn was doing an amazing job of getting Torrhen to relax around them. The more comfortable the man felt, the more likely they were to get information out of him.
He's definitely got the look and accent of a Northerner. But he can command a dragon. A Targaryen bastard, perhaps? But how far back? Could he be a Blackfyre? The male line was killed but it was never confirmed for the women, one of them could have fled to the North.
Once he had finally calmed down, Oberyn spoke, "You save members of my family and now you give me the best laugh I've had in ages. Torrhen my friend, you must let me gift you something. I am in your debt."
"There is one task I could use help with," Torrhen rumbled. "Though I imagine most of your good cheer for me will disappear if I speak of it."
That's certainly ominous. Just what is he going to ask for, Rhaenys's hand in marriage?
"I am a man of my word, and I offered. So let's hear it," Oberyn said solemnly.
"I want to rescue Lyanna Stark from her current location in Dorne and have your maester and your best midwife look after her until after she's popped the kid and they are both healthy enough to travel."
Doran felt himself go slack jawed at the audacity of the request. Oberyn had a much different reaction.
"After the dishonor the Rhaegar brought to my sister you want to bring his wolf-bitch here?!" He shouted, jumping to his feet. Ellaria only barely managing to get her legs underneath her to avoid tumbling to the floor.
Seven hells Oberyn, don't shout at the man that killed the Mountain That Rides with his bare hands. You are within punching distance.
Doran saw Areo shifting his stance. He hadn't drawn his axe yet but he was muscle twitch away from doing so.
We are about ten seconds away from this turning into a fight and the guards rushing in. Whatever Gods are listening, please end this peacefully.
Torrhen's face, which had been calm and relaxed, went cold and stoney at Oberyn's words. "Lyanna is not a bad person, she doesn't deserve to die because she made some stupid decisions. I want to make sure I get her someplace safe. Given that I just saved your family I would have thought this place would count as that."
Doran let out the breath he had been holding. Good, good. He's still talking, we might all survive this after all. Glancing at his brother, Doran could see that Oberyn was fighting to control himself. His face was twitching and his neck was clenched but his fists were starting to relax.
"Given the. . . nature of the request," Doran said as Oberyn remained silent. "There is only one person who can make that call. Elia?"
Everyone in the room turned to the Princess of Dorne.
His sister looked shocked. "You're leaving it up to me?"
It should be your decision regardless, but you're the most familiar with Torrhen and have the best idea of how he would react to a refusal, Doran thought but didn't say aloud. It has to be you.
Ellaria spoke in a soft voice, "Rhaegar didn't just take a paramour, he publicly shamed you. This entire war, all the deaths, are because of him. If you don't want that reminder around, it's understandable."
Elia turned to look at Torrhen. "You said you just want Lyanna here until she and the babe can travel?"
The man nodded, his expression softening. "Normal travel, not dragonflight. I'm not about to take a newborn that high."
"Where will you take her?"
Torrhen shrugged. "That depends on where she wants to go, truth be told. Maybe Winterfell, maybe King's Landing. Heck, maybe she'll decide to hide somewhere in Essos or even as far away as the Summer Isles."
"Okay," Elia said in a quiet voice. "I owe you my life, the least we can do is help you with this."
Torrhen gave a sad smile and then looked down at his lap. "Thank you Elia. I realize Lyanna is one of the last people you want to spend any time thinking about, but. . . As trite as it sounds, with great power comes great responsibility. What kind of person would I be if I let her die when I could have prevented it? It's the same reason I went to King's Landing to save you, it was the moral thing to do."
He didn't say it was the honorable thing to do. Interesting.
~Arthur Dayne~
Arthur Dayne, the Sword of Morning, could not believe his eyes. A dragon was flying circles around the Tower of Joy. A dead dragon, he could see that it was only bones, but it was still a dragon. What's more, it had two riders upon its back.
What would Rhaegar do if he was here? Go out and greet them or would he realize the danger?
For all that dragons were a symbol of the Targaryens, there was no guarantee that the men outside were allies.
They could be Blackfyres remnants that crossed the ocean and are looking to eliminate all other claimants to the Throne.
The dragon let loose a deafening roar that practically shook the tower to the foundation.
Arthur turned away from the window to look at his commander. "Ser Gerold. . . what do we do?"
"It's dead, so it may not be able to breath fire. If that's the case, we shall remain inside, guarding the entrance."
"And if it can breath fire?" Ser Oswell asked.
"We do our duty," Ser Gerold said simply.
A true answer but not a helpful one, Arthur thought to himself as another roar split the air. How did they know we were here, anyway?
The number of people that knew they were here could be counted on two hands and he'd have fingers left over.
Mayhaps they are allies? Could the Alchemists' Guild have actually accomplished something other than making wildfire? Did Rhaegar send them to bring us all back to King's Landing?
"Kingsguard! I know you're in there. I have a letter for the Lord Commander!"
Arthur opened his mouth but Ser Oswell spoke first. "I suppose with the war going on, messengers need to travel with better protection."
That earned a glare from Ser Gerold. "Now is not the time for japes, Ser Oswell."
Oswell merely shrugged in response.
"Should one of us stay? To guard Lady Lyanna?" Arthur asked.
Ser Gerold paused for a moment before shaking his head. "No, if battle breaks out better the three of us together to increase our chances of victory."
The three knights walked down the stairs to the bottom floor of the tower and, after checking all their gear one final time, strode out the door. They stood at attention as the dragon came in for a landing thirty feet or so away from them.
Father, grant us the strength to seek the just path. Crone, grant us the wisdom to see the path. Mother, grant us protection as we walk the path. Warrior, grant us skill should the path require battle.
Arthur considered praying to the rest of the Seven for completion sake, but decided he didn't want to call on them needlessly. He was clad in his Kingsguard armor and had Dawn across his back, that already showed The Smith was with him. As a man, Arthur rarely called on the Maiden outside of times he prayed for Ashara's safety. As for the Stranger. . .
If the dead walk, or fly as the case may be, the Stranger will have already taken notice. That dragon has escaped the Stranger's embrace, he'll want it back soon enough.
The two riders clambered off the dragon, and Arthur was struck by how different the two were. One was wearing a robe, very similar to a maester but without the chains, though it stretched up and over the figure, leaving them completely covered except for their grey eyes. Based on their height, Arthur assumed it was a man. The other person was someone Arthur had much more knowledge of: Prince Oberyn Martell.
"Gerold Hightower," the covered man spoke, his voice like thunder. "For some reason, I thought you'd be bigger."
Arthur watched his commander stiffen at the insult but he did not throw one back, instead he said, "You claimed to have a letter for me?"
"Yes, from my sister," Oberyn said as he walked forward and held out a rolled parchment in one hand.
Ser Gerold took the letter and Oberyn backed up, standing next to the other man.
"It is indeed Elia's seal on here," Ser Gerold said before breaking it and opening the letter. "Gods. . ."
"Ser?" Arthur asked, fearing the worst.
"It says His Grace King Aerys is dead, as is Prince Aegon, that King's Landing was sacked by Tywin Lannister. And it confirms what we feared, Prince Rhaegar is dead."
Arthur's shoulders slumped, he had held out hope that his friend might still be alive, slim though the chance was. May the Father judge him justly.
"It also says we are to bring Lady Lyanna to Sunspear."
Arthur's head snapped up to look at Gerold. "That would go against the Prince's final orders."
Ser Gerold nodded as he dropped the parchment at his side. "Aye, it would."
"Surely with Rhaegar dead, his wife has the ability to give you new orders?" The covered man asked.
"She does not," was all Ser Gerold said.
"Hmm, might I inquire into the current health of Lyanna Stark?"
"You may not."
"How about her freedom? If she wishes to come with us to Sunspear, could Lyanna command you?"
"She can not."
"I see. And just to confirm, your two subordinates agree with you?"
"They do."
"I'd prefer to hear it from them."
Arthur spoke up, "I will do my duty, even if it means my death."
"As will I," Ser Oswell said.
The covered man let out a very audible sigh. "I'm trying to resolve this peacefully, you are not giving me a lot to work with."
"The only way this does not end in bloodshed is if you turn around and leave."
"I was afraid of that." There was a pause, the man tapped his foot on the ground. "You are doing an admirable job of removing most of the guilt I have about killing you three, so thank you for that. You're fine white knights and you'll make just as fine wights. . . damn. I could have made a great pun there if I had planned ahead."
Arthur was thrown by the non-sequitur. Does he not consider us a serious threat? Glancing at the dragon behind the two men, Arthur decided that the covered man might be justified if that was his opinion.
"I'll take Dayne. Think you can stay alive with the other two?"
Oberyn pulled a spear from the dragon's saddle and twirled it in his hands. "I'm good Torrhen, but against two Kingsguard. . ."
"Oh relax, it's not just you. Soves will help you."
Soves. . . that translates to. . . flight or fly, I think? He named his dragon Fly? I suppose that's apt but rather uncreative.
Oberyn grinned. "Now that does sound fun."
"Just don't die," the covered man, Torrhen, said as he walked to the side, gesturing for Arthur to follow. "Your family is already pissed at me, I don't want to make it worse."
The Martells are mad at him? Yet he travels with Oberyn to deliver a message from Elia. Curious.
Once they had both gotten some distance away from the others, Arthur's opponent spoke. "Tell me Dayne, how close are you with your sister?"
"Why do you ask about Ashara?"
"I want to prevent innocent deaths. To do that I need to know if it's you or Ned or both that will cause her suicide."
"What? Speak sense!" Arthur demanded as he withdrew Dawn from its scabbard.
Is he threatening her? Does he plan to make her death look like a suicide? Or is he being honest and is trying to save her? We've only communicated by letter since Harrenhal but surely she would have said something to me if she was contemplating killing herself.
"I'll just need to find a helmet that covers your face, eventually. Go full Clegane," the covered man said, seemingly talking to himself.
Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw the dragon charge forward and try to bite the Lord Commander who thankfully jumped back in time to avoid the attack.
Battle is struck, no turning back. Seven protect us.
Arthur lifted Dawn, intent on moving forward but Torrhen leapt to the side. As Arthur waited to see what his opponent was doing, he saw Torrhen lean down and grab a rock off the ground.
Does he mean to fight me with that? I had assumed he had short blades hidden in his robe but is he truly unarmed?
As the covered man brought his arm back to throw the rock, Arthur had to resist scoffing.
Dawn can block a thrown rock, no matter how strong your arm is.
Arthur felt something impact his chest and then he knew no more.
~Oberyn Martell~
Oberyn was a passionate man, he knew this. His emotions ran hot, whether it was anger or love. It was why he was so conflicted when it came to the Northerner.
When Elia had first begun talking of how Torrhen had saved her, Oberyn had thought of all the things he could do to reward him: showering him in praise, making sure he got his own keep, an endless stream of beautiful lovers, gold, anything and everything imaginable. The fact that he had a quick wit made him all the more endearing, if Elia had no plans on taking Torrhen as a lover Oberyn had decided to try for himself (sure, the teeth looked like they could do some serious damage in such an endeavor but what was life without a little danger?). The fact that it would have bound a man that could control a dead dragon to the ruling family of Dorne would have been an additional bonus on top of everything else.
But then the man had gone and ruined Oberyn's opinion of him. Helping the woman Rhaegar tossed Elia aside for, it made Oberyn's blood boil.
Why couldn't he just ask me to bed and then never left Sunspear? Things would have been so much simpler that way.
Instead, they were on the other end of Dorne, having flown to where Ashara Dayne had said her brother and two other Kingsguard were keeping Lyanna Stark.
I'm curious how he knew that Ashara knew where to go. It's not as though Doran always knows where I am.
Torrhen had wanted to go by himself, initially. With only letters from Elia, to command House Dayne's assistance and another ordering the Kingsguard to stand down, but pretty much everyone had objected to that for a multitude of reasons. Elia had still provided the letters, but it had been decided the Oberyn would accompany Torrhen on the trek. A trek that had so far been successful.
Between flying on a dragon and getting to cross blades with a member of the Kingsguard, this has probably been the most eventful journey of my life. Should I write a book about it? Or maybe commission a song? Definitely something, just need to figure out what.
As far as Oberyn was concerned, the quest was nearly complete. He just had to figure out which room of the tower Lyanna was in and then they could head back home to Sunspear. She was likely locked in the top room but he still needed to check all the other rooms first, he didn't want to leave potential enemies behind his back as he made his way to the upper floors after all.
The tower was surprisingly well furnished. Not that most pampered nobles would call it such, but it was a large step above the spartan interior Oberyn had been expecting.
No servants though. If Lyanna really is pregnant what was the plan for dealing with that? Bring a midwife here? Or move her before that became unsafe? Or do nothing at all and leave it up to Lyanna and the Gods?
Oberyn took the stairs to the final floor. At the top was a door that was locked from the outside.
Hmm, so she is a prisoner here. Maybe she really was kidnapped after all.
Torrhen had been oddly tight lipped on that particular aspect of the rescue, which had only made Oberyn more suspicious. Most everything about Torrhen was suspicious, to be honest. His motives, his goals, his power, so much of it was a mystery. Sure, he made claims about this or that but there was no way to verify anything he said.
Oberyn unbarred the door and swung it open with a flourish. "Lady Stark, are you there?"
She was indeed there. Oberyn could see her by the window, looking down on the area where the fight had taken place. When she turned Oberyn got confirmation that she was pregnant, her bulging belly strained the dark dress she was wearing.
"That's. . . a dragon," she said, pointing out the window. "You arrived on a dead dragon. A dead, flying dragon."
"Yes, we did. It was quite fun, flying is an experience unlike any other."
"And your companion," Lyanna continued. "He's. . . he's. . ."
"Drinking the blood of the fallen. He does that."
Lyanna waddled, there was no polite way to put it, away from the window and sat on the bed. "Two men on a dragon are here to rescue me from three of the best knights of the realm. This is really happening, right? This isn't a dream?"
"It's real. Take your time. I understand it sounds like something out of a story."
"Oh." Lyanna took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before slowly letting it out. She did this three more times. "Okay, I think I'm good now."
Oberyn grinned. "Excellent! Then you won't mind answering a few questions for me."
She looked up sharply. "What kind of questions?"
"Good ones." Oberyn took a moment to laugh at the unamused expression on Lyanna's face. "Mainly: do you know who the man that controls the dragon is? I know he's covered in that robe but he's got the look of a Northerner and says his name is Torrhen."
"You realize that's the third most common name in the North after Brandon and Rickard, right? Besides my brother, I know at least four Torrhens in Winterfell alone."
"Your brother?" A brother would certainly want to save his sister, regardless of if it pissed off someone he just rescued from King's Landing. Could that be the explanation?
"Yes, my older brother Torrhen was Ned's twin."
"Ned Stark? That sounds familiar, but not quite right."
Lyanna rolled her eyes. "Eddard. Only his friends and family call him Ned."
Oberyn snapped his fingers as the memory came to him. When Elia had sent him the letter explaining what had happened at Harrenhal, the one bit of good news she had included was that she was happy her handmaiden Ashara had finally settled on a suitor, Eddard Stark.
There's a connection here somehow, I just know it. Torrhen to Eddard to Ashara to Arthur to Lyanna. But what about Elia? Ashara was her handmaiden, did she make Elia's rescue a requirement of her help?
But then her words caught up with Oberyn. "Wait. You said 'was'."
Lyanna laced her fingers together across her belly as she looked down. "Torrhen was being fostered with House Bolton. Right before I left Winterfell for Harrenhal we received word from House Hornwood, the Bolton's neighbors. Fleeing smallfolk said the Bolton's had locked down their castle because of an outbreak of grey plague. Hornwood sent a few men to investigate, they reported that they could see no movement inside but that piles of corpses were visible outside the castle walls."
Oberyn winced and gently put his hand on her shoulder. "You have my sympathies. No one deserves to die like that."
Seven Hells though, it would have explained everything if Torrhen was her brother. So who the fuck is he then?
"Thank you. I hope and pray that my brother is still alive, but I know that to be very unlikely. I know the Hornwoods said they would check again after a year had passed but," Lyanna trailed off, the obvious reason hanging in the air, unspoken. That the war had disrupted everything.
"Back on track, you need more details. His voice is quite deep, very recognizable in fact, and he has an inhumanly large mouth filled with sharp teeth. Does that stand out to you?"
Lyanna raised her head to look at Oberyn but shook it side to side as she did so.
"Are any of your bannerman known to dabble in magic?"
"Nothing I'd put any stock in. Only ones that are close would be the Reeds and the rest of the crannogmen, but I'm taller than most of them and your friend looks taller than me. I suppose there's also the cannibals on Skagos, those people are basically half wildling so if anyone still had old magic it would be them."
Cannibals? Elia said that Torrhen drank Clegane's blood after killing him.
"Is there anything else you can tell me about Skagos?"
"Not a lot. Supposedly, they have unicorns there. I know the surrounding waters are incredibly dangerous for ships so there's not a lot of contact with the island, they don't have a maester there so no ravens either."
"Anything about the people? Are they truly cannibals?"
"That's what the rumors say, no idea if that's the truth or a mummer's tale. There was House Magnar, Stane, annndddd. Hmm, Crowl I think. At least in the past. For all I know any of those houses could have died out by now. The North does not have much contact with the island."
"Damn, not much closer to figuring him out than I was before." Oberyn blew out a breath in frustration. "Very well, moving on. My family owes Torrhen a great debt, and he decided to immediately cash that in by insisting you be brought to Sunspear so the babe can be safely brought into the world. After that, where will you go?"
"I - I honestly haven't thought that far ahead." Lyanna's voice was barely above a whisper as she asked, "Is my family even still alive?"
Damn it, I should not be feeling sorry for her!
"Last I heard, Eddard is fine. Apparently, he has been a fairly successful commander of his troops throughout the war. Torrhen might know more, the man is surprisingly well informed on a number of issues."
"Really?"
Oberyn started ticking things off on his fingers. "He knew you were pregnant and being held in Dorne. He knew you were guarded by three members of the Kingsguard. He knew Ashara Dayne would know the location of this tower. He knew how to rescue my sister." Even if he wasn't completely successful in that regard.
Lyanna struggled to her feet. Oberyn would have offered her a hand but he knew how some women could be about accepting help while pregnant, he imagined Northern women were even more independent about it.
"In that case, let's go meet him and see what he has to say to me."
~Arthur Dayne~
"Oiy! Time to get up!"
Arthur opened his eyes and saw the covered man, Torrhen, standing above him.
"Ready to properly protect Lyanna Stark, Mister Dayne?"
"Ah - aye. I am."
"Glad to hear it." Torrhen extended his right hand, Arthur clasped it and was pulled to his feet. He looked around for Dawn but could not see where he dropped it. "Oberyn's got your sword, right of conquest and all that."
"But. But I didn't lose to Oberyn. Did I?"
"You did not, you lost to me. But your sword. . . let's just say you and I are not worthy of holding it, not in our conditions."
"Oh. Are you sure?"
Torrhen held up his left hand, letting the long sleeve of his robe fall back and Arthur could see a dark burn mark straight across his palm.
"Looks painful."
"Quite. I'll need a large drink to get over it."
Arthur didn't know what else to say so he lapsed into silence. He didn't feel right, his thoughts were jumbled and his chest ached. Looking around, he saw the downed forms of his fellow Kingsguard. The Lord Commander was missing his head and a large portion of his shoulders while Oswell had several small wounds but none that looked fatal.
Where is-oh. Judging from the blood that was dripping out of the dragon's mouth, Arthur had a feeling he knew where Gerold's head was.
Torrhen is up, he already mentioned Oberyn, and the dragon is right over there. Gods, we didn't get a single kill. I knew the odds were stacked against us but I still thought we would have at least gotten the Red Viper.
Shuffling in place, Arthus wondered what he should do. He wanted to fulfill Rhaegar's last orders but he also didn't want to, and he couldn't figure out why that was.
A knight's duty is to follow his lord's commands. And Rhaegar was more than my lord, he was my friend. So why-
Shaking his head to banish the thought, Arthur turned back to Torrhen. "So, what now?"
"Now we wait for Oberyn to get Lyanna from the tower. Then we'll all fly back to Starfall to thank your sister for her directions to this location, assure her that you are well, and leave a message for Ned."
"It will be good to see her again."
"We won't be there long though, after that it's off to Sunspear where we shall remain until Lyanna gives birth to Jo-" The covered man paused mid word and coughed. "Ahem. Until she gives birth."
"You trust the Martells with Lyanna's safety?"
"Sadly, not as much as I wish I could. But that's what you're for Arthur. One of the best swordsmen of the realm, who now doesn't need sleep or food and can't be poisoned."
Arthur blinked in surprise. "That doesn't sound right. Every creature needs to eat and sleep."
"Soves doesn't."
"Soves is a dead dragon," Arthur argued.
"And you're a dead human."
"I'm dead?"
Torrhen hummed in agreement.
I suppose that would explain some things. Still, to be dead. This is not what I expected it to be like. I thought I'd be in one of the seven heavens.
"You know," Torrhen said. "You should probably switch out your breastplate with uh, whichever one of your fellows has a more intact one. Otherwise that hole in your chest may terrify your sister, which is what I'm trying to avoid by having you back up and moving around."
Arthur walked forward to comply with the request. As he was undoing some of the buckles on Oswell's armor a thought struck him. "If I might ask a question?"
"Of course Arthur. What's on your mind?"
"That is now that third time you've mentioned Ashara. Why? Do you have designs on my sister?"
"While she is absolutely. Stunningly. Gorgeous. (Seriously, how does a pregnant woman look that hot?) No, no I do not."
"Then why?"
Torrhen let out a sad sigh. "I - I want to balance my scales. I've made some mistakes, big ones. I need to make up for them somehow, saving lives seemed the best way to do that. When I die I can only hope my good deeds outweigh my bad ones in the eyes of my Creator."
That was a very complicated response to a rather simple question. Did it even answer it?
Arthur tried to get his thoughts in order as he finished swapping his breastplate with Oswell's but it was hard. His brain didn't want to cooperate.
I suppose dying might explain the difficulty I'm having. It feels like I've woken up the morning after a long night of hard drinking.
The sound of a door opening brought Arthur out of his thoughts. Turning, he saw Lyanna and Oberyn exiting the tower. As Torrhen had said, Oberyn had Dawn across his back.
"Lyanna Stark," Torrhen greeted, taking a knee. "I am glad to see you are unharmed. I am Torrhen Snow."
"From what Prince Oberyn tells me, you're the one responsible for my rescue?"
"I spearheaded the operation, my lady. But I had assistance from multiple people."
That is a queer look she's giving him.
"Right." She glanced over at Arthur. "I thought you killed him."
Torrhen shrugged. "Death can be transient."
"Can you do that for other pe-people? Bring them back?"
Torrhen seemed to take a while before answering, staring at Lyanna. "Sometimes. It depends on the state of the body. And even when I bring them back they aren't really back."
"What do you mean?"
"Look at him," Torrhen said, jerking a thumb at Arthur. "He's doing what I tell him to. Would he do that if he was himself?"
Lyanna stared at Arthur for a long time. He weathered the gaze unflinchingly. Eventually, she looked back at Torrhen. "I suppose you're right. Come on, stand up. Let's leave this accursed place."
"Of course. Ser Arthur, get yourself a firm grip on Soves's leg. Fitting all four of us safely on the saddle would be an impossible task."
Arthur nodded at Torrhen, though the man didn't seem to notice. Instead, his attention was fixed on the Lord Commander's body. Arthur watched the covered man pick up Gerold and hand the corpse over to his dragon. Soves held the body in the claws of its foot with surprising gentleness. Torrhen then did the same thing with Oswell, with Soves holding his body in its other foot.
"Are we to return their bodies to their families?" Oberyn asked, though Arthur couldn't identify his tone.
"Nope. They get to join Clegane in storage."
Oberyn didn't respond, instead he helped Lady Lyanna onto the dragon's saddle.
As Oberyn and Torrhen climbed up, Arthur was seating himself backwards on top of Soves's foot. It wouldn't be a comfortable trip, but Arthur was confident that he wouldn't fall.
"Start working on your speech for Ashara," Torrhen called out to Arthur once the dragon had taken off. "You need to convince her that you're well but also that you have a penance to pay off in service to Lyanna."
~Doran Martell~
"Well, you can't be Cersi Lannister, she has golden hair. Unless you're wearing a wig?"
"No, this is my real hair."
"Hmm, well my next guess would have been Ashara Dayne but I met her in Starfall so I know you're not her. That leaves only one person you could be."
"And just who is that?"
"Queen Rhaella Targaryen, of course! I must say Your Grace, you are much shorter than I imagined but you are just as beautiful as I've been told."
The only response was a giggle.
As Doran walked forward, the two guards standing outside saluted him and one opened the door to the parlor. Inside, he saw Areo standing behind his daughter who was seated in a chair across from Torrhen who was-
Doran blinked at what he was looking at.
Torrhen was upside down in the chair, head resting on the floor. Each of his upturned hands was flipping coins between the fingers, two in the right hand and one in the left. When the coins would reach his pinkies, Torrhen's thumbs would reach under and move the coin to the index finger to repeat the process.
Torrhen turned his head as much as he was able in that position without pausing in his coin flipping. "Ah, Prince Doran, you are a terrible host. You didn't tell me the queen of the seven kingdoms was visiting, I would have dressed a lot better if I'd known."
Arianne laughed. "Father, did you know that Ser Torrhen isn't just a powerful sorcerer? He can also be a court jester. Look at what he's doing! And his voice is so deep, I bet he's a great singer!"
Torrhen clutched at his chest dramatically, catching the coins between his fingers rather than letting them drop to the floor. "Father? Wait, so you're not Queen Rhaella? The deception!"
"It did look impressive. Though right now young lady, you are supposed to be in a lesson with Maester Caleotte."
"But-" Doran cut off Arianne's excuse with a harsh glare. With a profound sigh that only children were capable of, she pushed herself out of her chair. "Fiiiiine, I'm going."
Once she was gone, Torrhen chuckled. "Sweet kid. Though truthfully, I'm glad you arrived when you did. When she barged in here and started asking for stories about my life, I very quickly ran out of ones that were kid-friendly. Was just sheer luck she forgot to introduce herself so I was milking that conversation topic for all I could."
"I'm not surprised she forgot her manners," Doran said as he sat down in the seat Arianne had vacated. "You command a dragon, you're basically all she's wanted to talk about ever since you first flew overhead. That said, I am surprised you managed to avoid her for two days, I was expecting her to ambush you as soon as you returned with Lady Lyanna."
Torrhen swung his legs off the chair, flipping completely around so that he was standing upright. Doran was impressed Torrhen had managed to pull off such a maneuver in the modified Maester robes he wore. Glancing at Areo, Doran saw a look of appraisal in the man's eyes. It was one more piece of information the bodyguard was filing away in case he ever had to fight Torrhen.
"While I find small talk a perfectly pleasant way to pass the time," Torrhen said as he turned his head back and forth, drawing audible cracks from his neck. "You're the Prince of Dorne, I'm sure you're a busy man. What's the real reason you stopped by?"
"I did seek you out because I wanted to discuss your jaunt out in the city last night, but let's go back to the 'small talk' as you put it," Doran said while Torrhen sat back down in his chair.
"Oh? What did you have in mind?"
"You seemed quite at ease around my daughter."
Doran left the statement in the air, curious to see how Torrhen would respond.
Torrhen raised a single eyebrow, which was about the only facial expression he could have made that Doran would have seen given that his eyes were the only part of his head not covered by the robe. "Yes I did. She's what, seven? Eight? Kids that age are easy to keep entertained. Boys want to be told they can be brave knights, girls want to be told they can be pretty princesses."
Torrhen followed that up by muttering something under his breath, the only part of it that Doran heard was Tea Vee, which he assumed was some northern blend.
"So that's it? You were just trying to put her in a good mood?"
". . . yes? Why are you asking?"
Surely he's not actually this dumb? She's my heir, it's obvious what I'm hinting at. Very well, if he wants me to be the one to propose it, that's just what I'll do.
"Your guess was correct, Arianne is seven. That's too young for marriage obviously, but we could discuss the possibility of setting up a long term betrothal-"
"WHOA!" Torrhen interrupted. "I was just being nice to a kid that had a case of hero worship. I'm not, I don't want - that's - NO."
That was not the reaction I was expecting.
Torrhen continued, "She's seven, I'm not going to discuss marrying a seven year old. Yes yes, we wouldn't be married till later. But she's seven right now and that makes it all kinds of creepy. So no."
"You feel quite strongly about this."
"Yes!"
"Very well, we won't discuss Arianne further," Doran conceded. He's acting like I expect him to bed her tomorrow. Still, good to know he has some level of morality. "Though I'm curious about something, at what age do you consider it appropriate to start planning a betrothal?"
Torrhen let out a groan and slumped down in his chair. "I know what you're doing, you know. But fine, I'll give you some info. I refuse to marry anyone younger than eighteen, sorry eight and ten. I have no obligation nor desire to marry for political clout or prestige. And finally, I'm in no rush seeing as how time is not really a concern of mine so don't try to run out the clock on me. Happy?"
"You make it sound like I'm blackmailing the information out of you." As well as using a number of idioms I've never heard before.
"That's a bit harsh, but probably accurate" Torrhen said, though it sounded like it physically pained him to admit. "I just detest the game of thrones, I don't want to play it, I'm not good at it. I'd prefer to not be involved at all but given my actions, I'm aware that that's not an option." Torrhen pointed a finger at Doran. "You may be a good man who cares about his people but you're still a politician and like I said, I know what you're doing. You want to find a way to permanently ally me with Dorne, that means marriage."
"Would such a thing really be so terrible?"
"Based on what I know of Dornish culture? No, no it wouldn't. But that's not the point. The point is that you're trying to manipulate me instead of just being open and honest about your intentions."
I had discounted all the rumors about Northerners since believing them wouldn't put me in Torrhen's good graces. Seems there was a bit of truth mixed in though, they do hate the pomp and circumstance of court.
"My apologies," Doran said. "I suppose the reason for my actions is that I'm simply stuck in my ways. I'm so used to dealing with nobles that have an ulterior motive that it didn't even occur to me to be upfront with you."
"Sad thing is, I can't decide if that's you being honest, you attempting to manipulate me again, or both."
Definitely both, but you'll never hear me admit that. "Unfortunately, I assume any attempts on my part to assure you of my honesty would only circle back around to that same question. So rather than try to convince you with words, I'll do it with deeds."
"What sort of deeds?"
"That actually comes back around to why I came to talk to you in the first place. You slipped out of the palace last night, jumped out a window if the guards on the walls are to be believed."
Torrhen coughed awkwardly. "Ah, yes. That."
"I have sources in the city. They say you stopped a mugging and then absconded with the mugger. A mugger who this morning turned himself in at a Sept, wishing to repent of his ways. However, the Septon reported the man was rather sickly, but I imagine that wasn't quite the case."
"You ah, you don't have to dance around the subject. As awkward as it is," Torrhen said while rubbing a hand across his cloth-covered forehead.
He wants me to be direct but appears quite embarrassed about this. Strange.
"Very well. Given what Elia told me you did to the Mountain, can I correctly assume you drank the criminal's blood?"
"I did. I was thirsty and needed the blood to heal the damage from when I tried to pick up Dawn."
So my guess was correct. It's some kind of blood magic. "Is this a regular habit of yours?"
"I used to have to feed daily. Now I need blood once every two or three days. I will say I was surprised at how long gorging on the Mountain kept me sustained though."
"Does the. . . feeding have any permanent effects on your victims?"
"Only if I drink too much and kill them. Otherwise they'll just be weak until their body replenishes the blood."
"In that case I'd like to offer you the services of a select few members of my household for when you get thirsty."
Doran heard Areo shifting behind him, likely from nervousness at the thought of Torrhen feeding on people.
"They agreed to that?" Torrhen asked, his surprise clear.
"Truthfully, I haven't asked anyone yet," Doran admitted. "I was planning on giving you criminals to drain but if you're sure it's safe then I think extending this level of trust will convince you of my intentions."
Torrhen let out a soft chuckle. "Do you clack when you walk? You must have quite the pair of brass balls if you're offering me your own blood."
"I'll not have my people risk their souls if I'm not willing to do the same."
If he's so adamant about not getting married right now, this is the next best thing I can think of to tie us together for the immediate future.
~Author's Note~
I've been reading a lot of Game of Thrones/ASOIAF fics lately and had been considering writing something in the fandom but couldn't settle on a plot that I liked until I stumbled across a Warhammer fic called The Blood Runs Cold about a Vampire Coast SI that is never from the MC's perspective. Since all my Warhammer knowledge comes from the Total War games (and the occasional lore video on Youtube or trawling through the wiki) I knew I couldn't write anything taking place in the Warhammer Fantasy Battle world so instead I decided on this.