Okay, it was not planned or wanted at all. A new story is the last thing I need! It was just an idea that I had today. It wouldn't leave me alone, so I had to start writing it down.

Lady of Dorne

Loss

287 AL

It was a lovely Dornish night. The crescent moon gave off just enough light to bring on something ethereal, something filling the space between earth and sky. The stars sparkled in the black water, making it look like it was sprinkled with fireflies. The air was redolent with the aroma of blood oranges and flowers, the scent of new growth. It was so peaceful.

And it was not right. The Water Gardens never used to be peaceful. Even in the bosom of night, there always used to be something giving up the presence of children, the breathing of youth and innocence.

Used to be.

"Why are you still sitting here?"

Oberyn Martell turned his head and shrugged. The flame of the lantern in the far end of the terrace reached forward like a greedy hand intended to grasp the water. His father's face was just as weary as he supposed his own was. There were deep bruised against his eyes and new lines on his face that hadn't been there before.

"I didn't feel like going in."

Alric Gargalen sighed. "I can relate…"

He took a seat in a chair nearby and like Oberyn, stared at the pool beneath. "We cannot go on like this," he finally said. "Oberyn, you must return to Sunspear. People need to see that you're alive and well. There are all kind of rumours…"

Oberyn laughed, albeit shortly. "Rumours about me? Why, that's a first!"

"Be serious," Alric said sharply and puckered his thin eyebrows. His black eyes held his son's gaze firmly. "I'll try to do whatever I can to help you but Sunspear needs to see that the Martell line still is."

Oberyn looked aside, too tired to form a proper snarky response. Usually, he and his father raised blazing rows that made the courtiers around dash for cover but not today. Not any day soon. "Whatever you can," he echoed and sighed. "Undo it, Father. Do it over and make it all go away. Tell me that there was no plague at all and it was all in my vivid imagination… like you did when I was a child…"

Alric looked down. "If I only could…"

For a while, they were silent, both thinking of the last time they had stood together at a terrace. It had been at Sunspear and they had watched the entrance of the ships in the port of Sunspear, among them the Pentosi galley that had brought the plague in Dorne. The plague that had claimed thousands of lives in just two months. Who knew how many more would it have taken, had they not closed Sunspear and the nearby boroughs off. About a quarter of the citizens of Sunspear were dead. Half of the children in the Water Gardens were no more and as soon as the quarantine was over, the rest had been returned to their parents who were frantic to make sure that they were alive and well, so now the palace was almost empty. Oberyn had come to almost like it.

"He used to watch me from here when he came to visit," he said all of a sudden. "And if he missed on this on his very first day here, I'd be terribly offended."

Alric smiled. "Yes," he said. "I remember. I also happen to remember that he barely missed that first day, though… it was easier to let you drag him here and finish his work later than argue with you and finish it later anyway. And with you, it was no sure thing that he wouldn't find a snake or two in his bed if he happened to incur your wrath."

The smile dropped off as suddenly as it had appeared. They couldn't keep talking about Doran as if he would make an appearance any minute now and say wryly that he was flattered to be an object of such interest. But they couldn't talk about the fact that he was no more either. That Mellario was no longer. That Quentyn's tomb, next to his sister's, was yet to be finished. It was too early.

Despite his scornful mask, Oberyn knew that he's have to go to Sunspear, and soon. The people needed to know that he was alive before madness ensued.

"I'll probably leave tomorrow," he said. "I'll leave Ellaria and the girls here, though."

Nothing on earth could make him subject them to the ruin he was to face if there was an alternative.

"Don't worry," a woman said from the door behind him. "I'll help her take care of them."

Oberyn rose and led her to his chair, avoiding the sofa where she had used to sit with Doran. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

"Why, is someone?" she wondered.

In the pale lights of night only the oval of her face was clearly visible. Her features were blurred and it was easy to imagine that it was Elia sitting with them. Of course, they wouldn't want Elia here. For first time in years, they were grateful that she was safely away at King's Landing. That blasted husband of hers might be a disaster but he was vastly better than the plague.

Alric looked at his niece and almost smiled. "So you think you can help someone care for the children? Until the very last moment you give birth, I suppose?"

Lady Alynna Dayne looked down at her belly and her lip curled. It was true that she was expected to give birth any day now but in the horror of everything that had happened around her, very few people paid attention to that, Alynna herself included. Alric and Oberyn had both been dismayed when she had happened to arrive at the Water Gardens only a day before the quarantine had been enforced. She had had no choice but wait the sickness to run its course and die away, just like the rest of them did. "Yes," she said grimly. "I'll have to find a midwife, after all."

Oberyn sat down on the cold marble floor near her. "I'll find you one in Sunspear," he promised.

She looked at her uncle. "Are you leaving, too?"

Oberyn also looked at his father, eyebrows arched.

Alric shook his head. "No," he said. "I did my best to help your mother and then help Doran but there were always roads that they had to forge on their own. Until your sister returns, you're in charge of Dorne. It is your responsibility, Oberyn. I am sorry but that's about the size of it."

Oberyn nodded with grim acceptance. "We have to send for Elia indeed," he said and his mouth twisted. "I have no doubt that the fight for dominance will start immediately at King's Landing. They'd run each other through while they give our good King advice on who should accompany her and assert her succession here… or rather, Rhaegar's own."

"No!" Alynna exclaimed and gripped the arms of her chair. "He cannot do it. Can he?"

Her eyes moved from her uncle to her cousin. Their expressions only confirmed what she suspected was true. Targaryens did not believe that women could and should rule. And with no great lands of their own, they could not turn off the chance to gain Dorne - for their own domain, not just a vassal princedom.

"Never worry," Alric said. The idea of his goodson taking charge of Dorne through Elia sickened him no less than it did her. The thought that the man who had humiliated his daughter and had been a reason for her almost death could seize control was no less than abhorrent. But there was something more: House Gargalen had lost many of its members in the war that had erupted after Rhaegar had run away with his precious wolf girl. Alric was a man who never sought quarter – but he didn't give it to others either. Rhaegar Targaryen would never rule in Dorne – and that had been confirmed as early as his wedding. Now, the situation had changed but not this much. Dorne was Elia's right, not Rhaegar's. "Our lords and ladies won't stand for it."

He rose, for the sight of the two of them caused him pain. Alynna looked so much like Elia, in the moonlight even he could mix them. And that reminded him of earlier, better times – before Elia's marriage, long before Doran's death. He had been deeply affected by Mors and Olivar's untimely deaths – but this was worse, far worse. He now knew that he had almost forgotten them in a way he wouldn't forget Doran, Mellario, his grandchildren.

In the moonlight, his eyes glinted coldly. "Go to Sunspear," he said again. "We must summon a council. And we must call your sister back – without Rhaegar Targaryen."