Chapter 3
~Eddard Stark~
"I'm not in the mood for japes, Prince Oberyn," Eddard growled out.
Eddard had been torn between following after his twin or staying with his sister. The choice was made for him when the midwives declared Lyanna wasn't just experiencing a passing issue but that the babe was on its way. Despite Ashara's comments, Eddard knew he had no place in the birthing room under normal circumstances, he certainly didn't want to be there and see his sister in such a state. So while Lyanna was rushed off to a safe place to give birth, Eddard was left to wander the Old Palace. Howland had decided to inform their companions of what had happened, Ashara had gone somewhere with Elia, and the Martell brothers had other duties to attend to. Or at least that was what they had said. Eddard had barely started to walk through the halls before he was accosted by the younger Martell brother who insisted he act as Eddard's escort.
"This is no jape, Lord Stark. Your brother's room is really through this door," Oberyn answered.
Eddard jabbed a finger in the direction of the door. "That leads down to the dungeons!"
"This is remarkably similar to how your sister reacted when she found out about this," Oberyn observed with a wry smile. "But before you continue, yes that leads to the dungeons. No, we didn't put Torrhen there as a punishment. He requested it, said he wanted a place out of the sun. We had a bed befitting his station sent down, and later a chair and table when he requested it."
Eddard glared at the smirking Dornishman. "Fine. But know that if this is some trick-"
"That you'll do all sorts of terrible things to me, swear vengeance on my family for the dishonor I brought on you, have the North declare war on Dorne, and so on and so forth. Do you want to go talk to your brother or do you want to spend time posturing with me?"
Eddard sighed in defeat. The Dornish have a reputation but mayhaps I should try being a little more trusting, they're helping with Lyanna after all. And Torrhen seems to trust them. "Fine, lead the way."
They entered the dark hallway and Eddard's nose was immediately assaulted by multiple smells, none of them good.
"M'lord? Pr-prince Oberyn, is that you?"
Looking out from the hole in a cell door was a man with an unkempt beard and long, knotted hair.
Oberyn sneered as he looked at the man. "Aye, Kevan. Though I'm not here for you, if that's what you're hoping."
"Please! I'll spend every evening praying at a Sept. I'll work hard and give all my wages to charity. Just don't leave me down here. Not with that monster! Have you seen what he does to us?!"
"I realize we chopped off your manhood for what you did to that maid, but seeing you beg like this somehow makes you even less of a man to me."
"PLEASE! I'll do anyth-"
The man was cut off by a low rumbling sound, as if a great beast was stirring from its slumber. The prisoner whimpered softly and retreated from the door.
"What was that about?" Eddard asked as the pair resumed their walk.
"Kevan was a guardsman that fancied a maid whose interest lay elsewhere. He wouldn't take no for an answer and forced himself upon her. When he realized she was a good friend of Ellaira, he panicked and killed the poor girl and threw her in the sea. Was sheer luck that an early morning fisherman saw him do it and made sure to recover her body."
"Thank you for the explanation," Eddard said as they stopped in front of a cell door that was open. "But that wasn't what I was referring to."
Torrhen's unnaturally deep voice emanated from inside the cell. "I drink blood, Ned. Why do you think the people down here are terrified of me?"
His voice, his teeth, his magic, his. . . need for blood. He's changed so much.
Stepping inside, Eddard saw Torrhen was stretched out on a bed covered in silk like sheets, a book in his hands. Standing next to the bed was the large bodyguard with the enormous axe. In the other corner of the room was a table big enough for one person to eat at, along with a simple chair.
"Have we not been providing you with enough blood?" Oberyn asked, sounding a mix of affronted and curious. "Surely, my own tastes better than these prisoners?"
"It does," Torrhen agreed. "Almost chocolatey in fact. But a lot of these guys wouldn't shut up when I wanted some peace and quiet, so I had to train them. Normally I'd feel bad about it, but I checked with the jailer about what everyone's crimes were before I started and I can safely say everyone here deserves it. I won't repeat my past mistakes."
The coldness of Torrhen's voice gave Ned pause. His twin had always been a bit standoffish to people he didn't know well but he ultimately had a good heart and had often expressed concerns to their father about the wellbeing of the smallfolk. To hear him so casually reference his treatment of the prisoners seemed rather out of character.
But then, that's what Father wanted, wasn't it? The whole reason he sent Torrhen to foster with the Boltons was to toughen him up.
Torrhen sat up and closed his book, passing it to the bodyguard who set it on the small table. "Now I just have to start humming and they all know to shut up."
Eddard felt his eyebrows rising in surprise. "That noise was you humming?"
Torrhen shrugged. "There are some benefits to having a voice like an avalanche. It carries really well."
"It does," Oberyn agreed. "I bet you're quite the singer."
"I might be if I had even the slightest ability to carry a tune. Anyway, enough of that. What brought you two down here?"
"I found Lord Stark wandering the halls like a lost puppy," Oberyn said, laying a hand on Eddard's shoulder for emphasis. "And, I suppose, in a sense that's exactly what he was. Direwolf and all that."
"I was looking for you, Torrhen," Eddard cut in. "You're my brother, my twin. Is it really so hard to believe I'd want to spend time talking to you after so long apart, after everything that's happened? I can still hardly believe it all."
Torrhen smiled softly, keeping his lips closed and preventing his array of teeth from showing and ruining the softness of the expression. "I suppose that's true. What did you want to talk about?"
Eddard grabbed the chair and dragged it over to the bed so he could sit down and look his brother in the eye. "Anything. Everything. You suggested political ramifications earlier. How about the fact that you're older than me and therefore the rightful Lord of Winterfell?"
Torrhen rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Ned, I'm like ten minutes older. Also, I'm dead. Also also, what would your bannermen say if you abdicated in favor of your weird brother who sat out the war? Also also also, what about Hoster? I can't imagine he'd be happy about his daughter suddenly only being married to the heir."
Despite all of Torrhen's objections, there was only one thing Eddard could say. "You're older, how could I keep my honor if I didn't step down?"
Torrhen sighed. "Ned, I get that I'm talking and can move around but I don't think you properly grasp the fact that I'm dead. I can't be a Lord Paramount, it would draw way too much attention. If you want to give me some podunk keep for me to rule, we can probably work something out but there's no way I'm taking Winterfell."
"We have several spare keeps in Dorne for you to choose from if you want to stay here," Oberyn interjected.
"I give you Martells credit, you won't give up in your pursuit of me," Torrhen said with a chuckle. "But there is absolutely no way I'm staying in Dorne, it's too sunny for my complexion."
"What do you mean?" Eddard asked.
"I burn easy. That's why I'm rooming down he-"
"No, that wasn't what I meant," Eddard interrupted. "What was that about them pursuing you?"
Oberyn raised a single eyebrow as he regarded Eddard. "Isn't it obvious? Torrhen is one of the most valuable pieces on the board in the Game of Thrones."
Why do I get the impression he uses that same tone of voice with his children?
"I suppose but. . ." Eddard trailed off, thinking through the implications of Torrhen's actions. How he had rescued part of the royal family, how he controlled a dead symbol of the royal family, how he controlled a dead bodyguard of the royal family. Looking at this from an outside perspective instead of from that of a man who was just happy to know his brother hadn't died of the grey plague, Eddard had only one response. "Oh."
Oberyn smirked. "And there's the realization. Surprised it took you this long but then again in the month your sister has been here I've noticed that she is similarly lacking in political acumen so maybe it runs in the family. Rather unusual given you are children of a Lord Paramount."
Eddard bristled at the verbal jab, he was about to stand up and yell in defense of the honor of the Starks when Torrhen spoke. "Ned, let it go. Words are just words, Oberyn is only saying that to get a reaction."
"I do not mind if he speaks ill of me, but I'll not listen to him slander our family, Torrhen."
"I realize you don't know Oberyn that well, but after a month living here I can assure you that I do. It's no different from smack talk in the training yard. And don't try to tell me people are polite there, I got knocked down on my ass by Brandon more than enough to know that to be a lie."
"True, but Brandon never meant anything by it," Eddard said, rubbing the back of his neck at the many, many memories of Brandon handily beating Torrhen at sword practice. Okay, maybe Brandon meant some of it. But Torrhen really was terrible in a fight.
"And neither does Oberyn, so relax."
Eddard glanced at the Dornishman. The Martell's face was a picture of innocence, which Edddard found suspicious but he couldn't put into words why.
Is he trying to drive us apart? Oberyn already admitted he wants Torrhen to stay in Dorne, could this be part of some plot to keep him here? Arrgh, he may be an ass but Oberyn was right, all this subterfuge is beyond me. I'll just have to trust that Torrhen knows how to handle the Martells and have his back no matter what.
"Alright, my apologies Prince Oberyn."
"Apology accepted Lord Stark, though you don't have to be so formal with me. Your siblings certainly aren't."
"Seeing you and your lover bare ass naked does tend to make the use of titles seem rather superfluous," Torrhen drawled.
Eddard blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"
"I wanted to enjoy the beach and go for a swim, so that meant going down there after dark," Torrhen explained. "Oberyn and Ellaria opted to join me. Since the beach was so deserted they decided to go skinny dipping rather than wear bathing suits."
"How. . . how long did you know them at the time?" Eddard tried to wrap his head around Oberyn's actions. It was one thing to accidentally expose yourself to servants as they did their duties around Winterfell or to catch glimpses of soldiers in various states of undress in the camp during the war, but Eddard could not imagine intentionally stripping down in front of a visiting noble, let alone doing so with his lover.
Ashara. . . or even my wife Catelyn, I can't imagine either of them would tolerate another man seeing them like that. And Torrhen is so unperturbed by this. Has spending a month in Dorne really rubbed off on him this much? He used to be so bashful when it came to nudity.
"Oh, I think it was a little over a week after we rescued Lyanna," Oberyn said. "Fun times. Shame you kept your clothes on for the swim, what pale skin you had showing looked ethereal under the moonlight so it would have been exquisite to see all of you."
"Keep it in your pants. You got to see most of me, be satisfied with that."
Oberyn let out a mock gasp. "You tantalize me with perfection and expect me to be satisfied? Next you'll tell a starving man to be satisfied with one dried peach when an entire feast is laid out before his eyes."
"Pfffftttt." Torrhen rolled his eyes. "I'm aware of how I look, perfect I ain't."
"Oh come now, everyone is someone's reason to masturbate late at night."
That has got to be the weirdest way of assuring someone that they aren't ugly that I've ever heard.
Torrhen opened his mouth and flicked a finger against one of his massive fangs. "That may be generally true, but in my case it was before I got these. Or maybe just people that don't know that I have them."
Oberyn threw up his hands in exasperation. "Do I need to fuck you to convince you that you're attractive?"
Eddard choked on air at the brazenness of the question. Surely he doesn't actually mean that, does he? Earlier Torrhen said Oberyn was just teasing, but it sounds like he actually wants to lay with another man. . . are the Dornish really so perverted? Eddard tried and mostly succeeded in keeping a mental image of a nude Oberyn and Torrhen from forming in his brain.
With a laugh Torrhen said, "I've seen some of the people that you fuck, you undercut your own argument by wanting to sleep with me."
Oberyn grinned and started to say something but paused at the sound of someone running down the hall.
"Lord Torrhen!" A servant shouted as he appeared at the doorway, huffing and puffing. "Maester Caleotte sent me, Lady Lyanna's health is not well."
Lyanna! Eddard jumped to his feet.
"What?" Torrhen roared, pulling his hood on as he stood up. "The whole point of bringing her here was to prevent this!"
The servant trembled in place as he responded. "I'm sorry m'lord. I'm just delivering the message I was told."
After all the marching and fighting that Eddard had done during the war, he liked to think he was in good shape. But watching how fast Torrhen disappeared down the hall, Eddard found himself questioning that notion.
"Follow me Lord Stark," Oberyn said. "You'll get lost if you try to get there otherwise. I'll take you to your sister's room. You might as well come too Areo."
The bodyguard nodded with a very put upon sigh.
It wasn't quite a mad dash through the keep, but they were going faster than a jog. Eddard realized that Oberyn had been right. Torrhen may have the layout memorized after a month of living here, but Eddard never would have gotten to Lyanna in a quick manner without the Martell brother leading the way. There were so many twists and turns through the hallways that Eddard didn't even try to keep track of where he was until they eventually slowed down in front of a room with two guards standing outside.
Seeing the group approaching, the guards opened the door without prompting. The room was busy, midwives were moving to and fro while the maester and Torrhen seemed to be quietly arguing off in the corner. Lyanna was laying on the bed, a squirming bundle in her arms.
Eddard would be the first to admit that his knowledge of childbirth was limited to the very basics but he had seen enough men wounded in battle to know that Lyanna was not doing well. Her hair was matted with sweat and her skin was practically as pale as Torrhen's, which was in sharp contrast to the red stained sheets she was laying upon.
She's lost a lot of blood, Eddard thought as he moved closer to his smiling sister. For despite how her life seemed to be fading away, Lyanna seemed happy as she held her babe. So that's Rhaegar's child.
"Ned," Lyanna said softly. "Come meet your nephew."
Sitting on the bed next to his sister, Eddard looked down. The child had dark grey eyes but otherwise had no distinguishing features.
It's a newborn, I suppose it would be silly for it to pop out looking immediately like a Stark or a Targaryen. If anything, I think it looks like an overcooked potato with limbs.
"What will you name him?" Eddard asked.
"Haven't - decided - yet." Lyanna was pausing, taking long breaths between each word.
"Enough!" Torrhen shouted, causing everyone in the room to turn to look at him. "Everyone out of the room! I'm not doing this with an audience. Ned, carry the baby. Arthur, your new job is protecting the kid."
The midwives glanced around, unsure on whether or not to follow the orders. Some looked to Lyanna, others to Oberyn, and a few seemed to be making their way to the door.
Torrhen yanked the hood off his head and snarled at the crowd, showcasing his array of teeth. "I said everybody out NOW!"
Eddard felt a hand on his shoulder as the midwives and the maester bolted out the room. Turning his head, Eddard blinked.
When did Arthur Dayne get in here? He would have had to move past Oberyn at the door. . . or was he already in here when I arrived?
"Come along Lord Stark, grab the child," the Sword of Morning said though Eddard noticed the sword on his back was not the fabled blade Dawn. "Lyanna will not mind. Look, she sleeps."
Eddard wasn't sure it was sleep that had claimed Lyanna, but she was still breathing at least.
"What are you going to do?" Eddard asked his brother as the man approached the bed.
"Save our sister's life, in a sense. I just hope she forgives me for it." Torrhen glanced at the door. "Oberyn, when I said 'everyone' I meant you too. Don't make me throw you out."
"I'm just waiting on Arthur and Eddard."
"You heard the man, up you go Ned."
Though Eddard wanted a proper explanation for what was about to happen, he trusted his twin and did as he was told, gathering up his nephew and leaving the room.
~Oberyn Martell~
The wetnurse is doing a remarkable job of ignoring us. It's honestly impressive.
The woman was nursing Lyanna's babe and seemed perfectly at ease despite Arthur Dayne and Areo standing directly behind her, Lords Stark and Reed in chairs next to her, and Oberyn across from her.
She hasn't even glanced at me. You'd think she'd feel the weight of my gaze on her tits considering how much I'm staring. I'm very jealous of that child right now.
Truth be told, the woman was not that good looking but Oberyn was bored so her large breasts were a safe target to occupy his mind. He wanted to talk to the Northmen about Lyanna and whatever it was Torrhen was doing but he was smart enough to know his curiosity would have to wait, both because they probably didn't know and because it was a sensitive subject at the moment.
I'm certainly not the most levelheaded of men when it comes to the safety of my siblings so I can't judge Lord Stark too harshly. Would be nice if his companion was more talkative though.
Oberyn had to wonder about the crannogman. Eddard had arrived at Sunspear with several men, loyal men no doubt and skilled with their weapons, but Howland Reed seemed different. Maybe it was how nonplussed he seemed about everything or maybe it was how little he talked, but Oberyn was sure the man knew more than he was letting on.
The door to the room creaked open and Oberyn noticed Arthur's hand drifting towards the sword across his back.
Would have been nice to keep Dawn as a trophy, but returning it to the Daynes was the right thing to do. Besides, Torrhen won it in battle, not me.
Arthur assumed a more relaxed pose once it was clear that Torrhen was the only one entering.
"How's the baby?" The covered man asked without preamble.
"Quite hungry, m'lord. He's nearly drained me," the wetnurse said in a surprisingly throaty voice.
Ellaria will want to meet her, I'll have to make sure to introduce them.
"No problems otherwise?"
"No m'lord."
"Good to hear." Torrhen collapsed into a seat with a groan. "At least something is still going right."
"Brother. . . what happened to Lyanna?" Eddard asked softly.
"She was going to die if I didn't do something. So I gave her a blood kiss."
"You say that as if we should know what it means," Oberyn said wryly.
"Right sorry, it's a taxing process so I'm a bit out of sorts. I made Lyanna a vampire, like myself."
The relief was clear in Eddard's voice as he spoke, "So she'll live?"
"She's technically just as dead as I am but I feel like that's arguing semantics with you at this point, so yes. She'll live."
"Thank the old gods and the new."
"It does complicate things even more," Torrhen said as he adjusted himself in his seat. "It's not as though Lyanna can marry Robert even if she wanted to, which she very much doesn't."
"What do you mean?"
Torrhen sighed. "Okay, maybe it wasn't semantics. Ned, Lyanna cannot go to King's Landing anymore than I can become the lord of Winterfell. She and I are dead, vampires have a whole host of issues that make integration with general society exceedingly difficult without proper precautions. Especially recently turned vampires. Ugh, that reminds me I'm gonna have to hurry up and raise Clegane so I can put him on Lyanna-sitting duty."
Eddard seemed at a loss for words, his mouth opening and closing but no words were coming out so wetnurse took the opportunity to jump in. "M'lords, just thought I'd say the babe has finished feeding and looks ready to sleep. It may be too loud for him in here, is there a room I can put him to rest in?"
"We're setting up one of the guest rooms for you and the babe," Oberyn answered. "It might be done by now. Talk to one of the guards outside, they can escort you."
"Thank you." Standing up and offering a quick bow, the woman left the room with Arthur following along behind her.
"Alright Torrhen, you're the expert on um, vampires. So what are your recommendations for how to deal with your sister?" Oberyn asked.
Drumming his fingers on the armrest of his chair, Torrhen didn't immediately answer which Oberyn considered a good thing. It meant Torrhen was putting real thought into it, rather than blurting something out as soon as it came to his mind.
"As I mentioned down in my room, I don't want to stay in Dorne because it's too sunny. But I'm wondering if that might be what Lyanna needs. It'll keep her inside during the day so she'll have to behave which would limit the amount of people she could hurt if she lost control. The flipside of that is she might go a bit stir crazy which could cause her to slip up more often so taking her back to the North could be the better option." Torrhen hummed in thought for a moment. "I am more inclined to focus on her mental stability and trust in the fact that between myself and my wights, we should be able to keep her contained if she falls off the wagon."
"What happens if Lyanna loses control and you aren't able to keep her contained?" Howland asked.
"Hopefully, we track her down before she kills too many people," Torrhen said matter-of-factly.
Howland seemed to be waiting for Torrhen to say more, because the crannogman stared for a few seconds before responding. "That's not much of a plan."
"I never said it was," Torrhen admitted. "Vampires are dangerous predators and humans are our prey. There are ways to mitigate the thirst for blood but they take time and that's not counting the mental damage that undeath tends to cause. Suddenly having to see your fellow man as food. . . well, let me put it this way. Do you care what a sheep thinks of you when you're in the mood for mutton?"
Oberyn had no response to that and judging from the silence, neither did Howland or Eddard.
"Anyway, I'm getting slightly off topic. My point was that yes, it's not much of a plan but options are limited when it comes to vampires. I wanted to be the only one since Bretonnia and the Empire aren't around to keep us in check."
"The Empire of Ghis fought vampires? I don't remember reading anything like that in the history books. And what was that other name?" Oberyn asked.
"Huh? No no no, nothing like that, different Empire. It's not important right now, if I start following that tangent we'll never get back here." Torrhen brought a finger up and pointed it at Oberyn for emphasis. "Talking about Lyanna."
Oberyn held up his hands in surrender. "Sorry. I'll try to stop distracting you. You said earlier that while you won't take Winterfell, you'd be open to a different keep in the North, have any in mind?"
"Ugh, I know I was a bookworm but keeping track of abandoned keeps was so boring. . . Ned, was there anything on the west coast? That's pretty sparse even for the North so there's got to be something there I can take over."
"Actually," Howland said before Eddard could answer. "Ned said you made up the story about the grey plague. So are there any Boltons still alive?"
"Oh um. . ." Torrhen rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. "Theyyyyyy are all dead. Yeah. Hrmm, dead."
"Then why don't you take the Dreadfort? Under normal circumstances, if Eddard gave such a large holding to family some of the lords might complain, especially since you haven't done much to earn it in their eyes, but if you were to take over a keep that had recently been decimated by the plague it'd be a much easier sell. Besides, given its size the Dreadfort isn't something we want simply left empty."
"Would probably have to divide up some of the outlying land and distribute it to the neighboring lords even with that being the case, but otherwise that's a great idea, Howland," Eddard said with a smile. "Would that be agreeable, Torrhen?"
"That might be preferable, now that I think about it. Means I'll be the one to uh - clean up my own mess."
Just what was it that happened at the Dreadfort? I understand that Torrhen doesn't want to talk about it but he's clearly harboring guilt over the whole thing, that will eat away at him if he's not careful.
"Very well," Eddard said. "So you'll take Lyanna and the babe back to the Drea-"
"Hold on there a minute," Torrhen interrupted. "I'll keep watch over Lyanna but I never said anything about her son. If anything, you should take him."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't think the boy will survive a year if he's around Lyanna."
Eddard jumped to his feet. "That's her son! What makes you believe she'd kill him?!"
"Because he smells delicious!" Torrhen shouted back as he stood up. "Same as his sister! No matter how many times I say it you still don't seem to get this, I'm not human anymore. I'm a vampire, a corpse animated by magic. I eat people. And now Lyanna does too."
Torrhen's rant caused a visible wilting in Eddard's body language. His shoulders hunched and the Northern lord quietly sat back down in his chair.
"Pardon me, but did you just say my niece smells delicious?" Obeyrn asked. "You've done a lot of good for my family but I feel like I have a reason to be nervous now."
"So long as I've fed recently, she's in no danger from me," Torrhen assured him. "Ideally, I'd like to say she's never in any danger from me but - well, I never did meth but I imagine the high from snorting it is similar to when I start sucking. . . and I bet you have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"
"Not really," Oberyn confirmed.
"Vampires don't just drink blood to sustain ourselves, if that was the case we wouldn't be so dangerous. We also drink blood because it's addictive, it might be better than sex. It's been a while for me though so I can't really be sure of that comparison."
Oberyn noted Torrhen's final sentence was uttered barely above a whisper. I suppose he's embarrassed that it's been so long. I wish I knew what it was that interested him. Men? Women? Donkeys?
"So what should be done with Lyanna's babe?" Howland asked.
"Well, first he needs a name," Torrhen drawled. "Feels weird to keep dancing around that when we talk about him."
"That's a decision Lyanna should make," Eddard argued.
"She's not in the right state of mind to do it and won't be for some time. Plus, I know what name we should give him anyway: Jon."
"You sound like you have a reason for that," Oberyn observed.
"Indeed I do. Ned, when you show up at King's Landing with a baby, you'll need to tug on some heartstrings hardcore to pull this off. So you tell Robert about how this is the last piece of Lyanna left in the world, how you won't give the baby up to anyone because it's all you have left of your sister. Really play up the kid's connection to Lyanna in order to make Robert forget about the connection to Rhaegar. Promise to raise him as a Stark. Heck, see if you can even get him legitimized as a proper Stark and have him swear to give up any and all claims to the Iron Throne when he comes of age. Then tell Robert you want to name him Jon after Jon Arryn, he raised the two of you so it should help tie into the correct emotions."
"That. . ." Eddard began but trailed off as he gave Torrhen a queer look. "That might work. Have you met Robert before? Or Lord Arryn? How did you know all that?"
Torrhen snorted and gave a brief chuckle. "That's what I do. I drink blood, and I know things."
Oberyn resisted the urge to smirk as Eddard frowned at his twin. He's been doing that to us ever since he showed up in Sunspear, it's nice to see him avoid someone else's questions for a change.
"There is still the chance that, due to who the babe's father is, things won't go as you predicted. You realize that, right? What if I claimed him as a bastard of mine instead?"
Torrhen winced. "That could have worked if Lyanna and I hadn't spent the last month here in Sunspear. I know Dorne is isolated from the rest of Westeros but the Spider has at least a few little birds here. So we can't keep it a secret, instead we have to figure out the best way to mitigate the damage."
Eddard sighed. "Very well, unless Lyanna decides to overrule it, her babe's name shall be Jon. I admit, I am still worried about Robert's reaction. He really hates the Targaryens, but this should be enough to blunt his wrath long enough to realize Jon is innocent in all this."
"Will he turn his sight towards my sister and niece?" Oberyn asked, stone faced.
"It's. . . possible," Eddard admitted.
"But between Jon Arryn and Ned, Robert should be reigned in," Torrhen said. "He'll listen to them, especially if you Martells play up the angle that you were forced into the war by the king holding Elia hostage. Finding common cause against Targaryens is going to be one of the quickest ways to get Robert to stop hating you."
"It feels like you've thought of everything," Oberyn said, leaning back in his chair. "Any other advice while you're at it?"
"Well, since you're asking-"
Oberyn held back a laugh. I wasn't expecting him to actually have a plan but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised either.
"See if you can pressure Jon Arryn into granting Sunspear a charter to officially become a city. Maybe make it a condition for ending your part in the war."
Oberyn was taken aback by the suggestion. Judging from the look on Howland and Eddard's faces, so were they. City charters were not something given out lightly, Westeros only had five true cities on the entire continent because of the economic power they brought to the lord whose holding the city was located in.
"You certainly don't think small," Oberyn said. "That would be a huge request to make. But even if we're granted a charter, what would be the point? We don't have the necessary population density for such a privilege to be worthwhile."
"You don't have the necessary population yet. But if suddenly you received a large influx of immigrants and refugees, it would be a good thing to already have everything set up beforehand, don't you think?"
"That was oddly specific," Howland observed.
"It was," Eddard agreed. "Just what are you planning, Torrhen?"
"Nothing at the moment. This would be several years in the future, assuming it works for me the same way it did for Dany. But the way I figure, people will be much more inclined to want to settle in Dorne than the North. Nicer climate and all."
Oberyn narrowed his eyes. "I feel I should be affronted that you are making plans for my family, for Sunspear, for Dorne, without even asking for the opinion of a Martell. You make it seem as if you rule here rather than my brother."
Torrhen froze in his chair. "That was not my intention," he said slowly. "But I can see your point. Maybe I'll send them all to White Harbor in that case."
"That wasn't my point," Oberyn argued. "For all I know, Doran might agree with your idea. I was objecting to the fact that you were making plans without asking, merely assuming we'd go along with it. Yes, we are indebted to you for actions but that doesn't mean we'll do whatever you say just because it's you that said it." Oberyn paused. "And you just did it again, though this time for White Harbor and the North instead of Sunspear and Dorne."
Judging from the way his eyes crinkled, Torrhen was frowning under his hood as he looked at his brother.
"He's not wrong," Eddard said. "If you're going to bring a bunch of people to White Harbor you should let Lord Manderly know first, at the very least. Ideally, you wouldn't do anything until you get his permission."
Torrhen had some heat in his voice as he spoke, "Alright, I get it! I made some assumptions that I shouldn't have, I apologize. I will let you know before I start the large-scale slave rescue, though that will depend on where I can put them all which was why I suggested you have Doran ask for that city charter."
Oberyn's eyebrows shot up. "Slave rescue? Why didn't you start with that? It sounds like something I'd support! What did you have in mind?"
"It's not really important right now since it's not immediate and dependent on a number of factors, which reminds me I need to check with the seamstress down in the Shadow City to see if she's done with my order yet. But the idea is to destroy Slaver's Bay."
Oberyn's eyebrows couldn't go any higher due to them being already up. So he doesn't plan to just retreat back to the North. Torrhen has ambitions. "Destroy Slaver's Bay? I know I just said you don't think small but that is a step above. How are you going to pull that off?"
"Subterfuge," was Torrhen's short answer.
For a man that claims to hate the game of thrones, he isn't doing much to avoid being a player. I don't know if he has the skill to back it up but he's certainly got the power to crush a lot of people beneath his bootheel.
"That's all you're going to say?" Eddard asked, his voice showing clear annoyance.
"For now? Yes. There are a lot of things that could change between now and then so no point in getting heavy into the details."
"Very well, let's move onto a different conversation topic. That is, unless you had yet another plan that I should pass along to my brother?"
He had said that as a joke, a way to defuse any remaining tension leftover from Torrhen's arrogance, but Oberyn nearly threw his hands up in the air when Torrhen responded.
"Do you know any single Dornish noblewomen that you could try to marry to Stannis?"
~Author's Note~
And now I'm caught up, having moved the reworked chapters from my snippet thread to here. My update rate will not be the same two day delay that all the previous ones were, just FYI.