CHAPTER I.
Authors Note- Thanks for the reviews they really help. Here's the first real chapter
Disclaimer- I OWN NOTHING
Coming upon the on-going siege at Storm's End was an eye opening event for Ned Stark. The Reacher forces that were encamped around the fortress were clearly not intent on causing anything other than superficial damage. It looked more like an army on holiday. Ned could even see a tournament ground had been set up. Oh yes, they had certainly suffered through this war. Now Ned had the rather dubious pleasure of treating with the Lord Oaf of Higharden, the Fat Flower himself, Mace Tyrell. It rather amazed Ned. This man could have almost single-handedly determined the fate of Westeros. He had by far the largest army. An army that had done little to nothing during the entire rebellion. He would get the man to bend the knee to Robert Baratheon, but he had some treating of his own to do with the Roses.
"Lord Stark, it is a pleasure to see you again. I'm pleased that it was you the Usurper sent to treat with me. First I would like to offer my condolences in regards to your Lord Father and Lord Brandon. Whilst his actions may have been perhaps a bit foolhardy, they were no cause for death. What was done to both him and your father was deplorable."
That those were the first words that came from Mace Tyrell was rather suprising to Ned. Especially considering Ned was almost certain the man was being entirely sincere.
"I thank you for that My Lord" said Ned. "Is there somewhere we could could discuss this privately?"
"As you say Lord Stark, my tent is just this way," Lord Mace said beckoning him to follow.
Once they were situated Ned decided to get Robert's terms out of the way. They were rather straight forward. Even the Old Lion of Lannister had urged Robert to take absolutely no harsh measures against the Reach.
"King Robert Baratheon's only requirement is for Highgarden to bend the knee, and return to their lands. I believe a token measure of reparations towards the Stormlands would also go a long way towards mending fences."
Lord Mace said, "Yes, yes, that is all well and good and I have no real problem with that. I shall send a delegation to the capitol and see it done and of course leaving the Stormlands shan't take us long. It's not as if we've been putting up much of a real campaign in any case."
Ned replied, "Thank you my lord. King Robert will be perfectly content with that."
"Yes, I'm sure he will." mumbled the Fat Flower.
"May we speak frankly?"
Ned was quick to reply, "Certainly."
Mace Tyrell seemed to drop all pretense of joviality then. Eddard was sure very few people had ever seen him look so serious.
''Lord Stark, do you know why i've sat here in from of Storm's End doing nothing for so long? We could have long-since forced the garrison to surrender. If I had actually wanted to, if push came to shove, I could field near one hundred thousand men. I could have easily taken control of the south in the name of King Aerys."
This serious and abrupt frankness had definitely peaked Ned's curiosity. "Why didn't you if I may ask my lord?"
"You were his good-son Lord Stark, you should know as well as I. I wouldn't have sacrificed a single peasant of Highgarden let alone my knights for the life of that Monster. Aerys needed to go. There was only so much the country could take. Until the Trident, I was so sure Rhaegar would triumph. The thought of the Silver Prince losing was near inconcievable. But, lose he did. What I don't understand is why in the Seven Hell's you yourself haven't followed the laws of the Kingdom that were signed by every single lord paramount of the Realm. After the unspeakable actions during the Sack of Kings Landing, by every law of the realm, your son the Prince Daeron is the King. Do you have any idea how truly popular your son is? He is overwhelmingly loved by the small-folk. He drew more applause than Prince Rhaegar ever did. Do you think your son will be able to live peacefully as long as that whoremonger sits the throne?"
Ned replied through gritted teeth, "Do you think I don't know that? Of course I know my son is the true King. I am a trueborn grandson of King Jaehaerys myself. The thought of a Baratheon on the throne is anathema to me. But my child is only five years old. Too many people would be trying to kill him if he was on the Iron Throne and i'm not politically astute enough myself yet to navigate the dangers of the Southron court. Until he is older, the realm will just have to make do. The distance between Winterfell and Sunspear is great. There is only so much one can do to help the other. The only real reason i'm not too terribly concerned is that for the time being, we will be left alone. The Princess Rhaenys and my son will grow up in the those two countries alone. No one could actually invade the North or Dorne and succeed. On the other hand, we're too far apart from one another to be able to provide much in the way of aid to attack outside our own borders. My forces suffered more losses during the rebellion than any other Kingdom. The Vale is the only ally I have."
"Surely Lord Hoster would aid you my lord?" said Mace Tyrell
Ned gave a derisive snort in response to that question. "Hoster Tully is allied closely with both Robert and Tywin Lannister. My son's safety was threatened if I did not marry the trout. Hoster Tully would sell his soul for the slightest advantage. The only person whose his interests he served during the rebellion were his own."
Mace Tyrell considered this for a moment before replying, "My lord Stark, I would have our two houses brought closer together over the coming years. As you may well know, our relationships with the neighbouring kingdoms leaves something to be desired. Our current location should be enough of an example of our relationship with the Stormlands, and our conflicts with Dorne are very well known. If we were able to bring the North and the Reach closer together, the two largest of the Seven Kingdoms, then perhaps you could assist in bringing about a closer relationship with the Reach and Dorne. That could lead to a rather strong alliance for the future: The North, the Vale, Dorne, and the Reach."
Ned considered this for a moment. An alliance such as that could prove very beneficial for the future. He knew his son would need strong allies. There was one thing that Ned knew with absolute certainty: Robert Baratheon would never sit securely on his throne so long as Daeron and Rhaenys lived. He had no way of knowing just when his child could be threatened and such an alliance could prove to be a godsend. That made up Ned's mind.
"I believe you are absolutely right in your thinking Lord Tyrell. Let us meet again later this evening when less ears could be around and begin talks" said Ned.
Ned was entering Dorne from the Princes Pass as he neared the Tower of Joy. He didn't know how to explain it, but he was fairly certain he knew what he would find. He never truly believed his fierce little sister had been kidnapped. He was one of the few people alive who knew the truth of the identity of the Knight of the Laughing Tree. Had Lyanna truly been abducted, there would have been more than obvious signs of struggle. There had been none. He was also perfectly well aware that Lyanna was entirely against her betrothal to Robert Baratheon. She did her duty well enough that she would smile pleasantly and keep her true feelings to herself, but she detested Robert. He already had one bastard daughter in the Vale and his whoremongering and drinking ways were not unknown to Lyanna. At the time, he had tried his best to defend Robert's character; but even he had realized the the two would be horribly matched. He just never got the courage to try and persuade his father otherwise.
When Ned and his companions arrived at the tower he was unsurprised to find three Knights of the Kingsguard. Lord Commander Ser Gerold Hightower, Ser Oswell Whent, and the Sword of the Morning himself- Ser Arthur Dayne were standing in front of them armed and with identical looks full of determination.
"I looked for you on the Trident," Ned said.
"We were not there," replied Ser Arthur.
"Woe to the Usurper if we had been," said Ser Oswell.
"When Kings Landing fell, and Ser Jaime slew your King with a golden sword, I wondered where you were?" Ned asked.
"Far away. Or Aerys would yet sit the Iron Throne, and our false brother would burn in the Seven Hells," Ser Arthur said.
"I came down to lift the siege of Storm's End, and the Lords Tyrell and Redwyne dipped their banners, and all among them did bend the knee to pledge King Robert fealty. I was certain you would be among them," Ned told them.
Ser Oswell replied, "Our knees do not bend so easily."
"Ser Willam Darry organized the flight from Dragonstone when Princess Elia and Queen Rhaella took control of the Royal Fleet. They fought their way through the Dornish Marches and penetrated deep into the Stormlands to Summerhall. It was there that the Prince Daeron of Summerhall and the Princess Rhaenys were being besieged by Baratheon men, and they brought them to safety and secured the Principality. I would have thought you would be the first among the defenders of the royal children," Ned said with a great deal more of ferocity in his voice.
For the first time he did see conflicting emotions amongst the Kingsguard. Ser Arthur especially had a look of the utmost shame upon his face.
"We had our orders Lord Stark. Prince Rhaegar bound us to our oaths," Ser Gerold said. But this time his voice held a pained quality to it.
With that explanation, some of Ned's anger abated. He knew very well what it was like for a man of honour to be held to an oath made that conflicted with his own desires or beliefs. He sheathed his sword and instructed his men to do the same.
"Sers, you know whom I am. My sister is in this tower, and I must needs see her. Ser Gerold, you should remember well I am the grandson of your former liege and King Jaehaerys. I was the husband of the Princess Elaena, and I am the father of the Prince of Summerhall. Unless you know of something that I am unawares of, then your rightful king is mine own son. I am both his father and proxy. In the name of the True King Daeron Targaryen, Third of His Name, I order you to stand down and allow me to see my sister. On my honour and my blood I swear I mean no harm to anyone here and would see to their safety at any cost," Ned said meaning every word. He disliked referring to his son as the true sovereign in front of his men, but he trusted them to keep their silence.
Ser Gerold thought for a moment before he and his Kingsguard bretheren sheathed their swords.
"This way Lord Stark, the Princess Lyanna is in here, but I must ask that only you enter the Tower. Your companions can remain here for the moment," Ser Gerold said.
"So she did marry him," Ned mumbled.
His companions made to protest him going alone, but he silenced them with a wave of his hand. He knew they would do him no harm.
In a room near the top of the tower, Ned was stunned by what he saw. There, upon a bed of blood with blue rose petals scattered about lay his beloved sister Lyanna. He could easily tell she was barely alive.
"Gods no," Ned whispered. How much more loss was he expected to take? He was at her side in an instant.
"Lya," he whispered.
She slowly opened her eyes. They widened upon seeing his face. Slowly, she reached out and grasped his hand.
"I'm so sorry about Father and Brandon Ned. I never suspected something like that could happen. Oh gods, it's all my fault. I thought the letter I left at Riverrun would have been enough to assuage any worries on my whereabouts," Lyanna said.
Ned immediately grasped on to that little detail that could have potentially prevented the hellish aftermath her dissappearace had wrought.
"Who did you leave the letter with Lya? We never recieved any kind of explanation"
She replied, "I left it with Lady Catelyn's little friend Baelish. Peytr I think was his given name. You remember, the one who had challenged Brandon for the Fish's hand."
"Gods above," Ned said. "That's the man who told Brandon you had been kidnapped. I will end him for his deceit." Their was a fierceness in his voice that was highly unusual for the 'Quiet Wolf.' That little bastard had caused untold amounts of damage by that single act.
Lyanna coughed and Ned was shocked to see blood seeping from the corners of her mouth. This was too much for him to bear. He couldn't lose her, he just couldn't.
Lyanna motioned for her hand maiden to bring something to her. The woman left the room and Ned was shocked by what she returned with. Their in her arms was a baby; a little girl if he had to guess. That the child was beautiful there was no doubt. She had dark, near black hair except for the very front of her forehead. There was a single stripe of platinum blonde that looked almost as if it were a little crown. When she opened her eyes they were a light shade of violet. There was no doubt as to the parentage of this child. The child settled easily into Lyanna's arms.
"Brother, meet your niece. The Princess Visenya Targaryen. At least Rhaegar was right about one thing. He had been certain she would be a girl. Part of the reason he picked me to be his second wife may very well have been because of his obsession with his accursed prophecy, but I wouldn't change her for anything," Lyanna told him.
Ned had to grit his teeth to stop the words about Rhaegar and his damned prophecy that wanted to escape his mouth. He had heard more than enough about the damn thing and could hardly believe all of the damage that had been caused by believing in such a fickle thing as prophecy.
Lyanna then appeared to gasp for breath; her breathing laboured and shallow.
"Ned I need you to promise me something. Please Brother, I beg of you. Forget my foolishness and that of her father. Please look after and care for my daughter. I love her so, and I can't bear the thought of me not being there and her left to the mercy of Robert and Tywin Lannister. I know what they did to Aegon I won't let it happen to my babe. Please Brother, promise me. Promise me Ned that you'll protect her; that you won't let them hurt her. Let her be with your Daeron and her sister Rhaenys. Elia will help. She knew about everything and tried to help me."
She gasped sharply for air.
"Promise me, Ned."
"Promise me," she pleaded.
"I promise Lya. I swear it." he said.
"Please don't leave me Lya, please. Please fight." he said. Her breathing however had stilled and her arms went limp. His sister had held on as long as she possibly could. She had held on long enough to see to her daughter's safety.
"No Lyanna, No," he yelled as he howled with grief. His beloved little sister was gone and left him alone. His pack was almost completely destroyed. Benjen was all that remained.
He looked down at the little girl whose face so resembled her mother. No, his pack was not totally gone. He had Benjen. He had Daeron, and Jon, and the babe Catelyn had given him he had yet to see. Also, he had this new little she-wolf. Part dragon she may be, but he would make sure the wolf-pack grew strong again. He would do what he must to protect these new pups. If he had to lie, scheme, and kill, he would. Throughout the coming years he would do what must be done to ensure that no one would ever again be able to threaten his pack. However long it may take, he would see it done. They would take back what is theirs with fire, and with blood. For the North remembers; and winter was coming for them.
They were nearing Sunspear. After getting things in order and departing from the Tower of Joy; Ned and his men, with the Kingsguard now amongst them, made for the Dornish capitol. He was weary to the bone and wanted nothing more than to relax in a nice hot bath and sleep as long as possible. He hoped to soon be able to. His sweet good-sister had sent word ahead. He knew he and his would be well recieved. He had the utmost respect for Elia Martell. He always had. She had helped to raise his son as if he were her own. He would be forever in her debt.
It was not long until Lord Eddard Stark, his six companions, Lord Commander Ser Gerold Hightower, Ser Oswell Whent, Ser Arthur Dayne, the wet-nurse named Wyla, and the Princess Visenya Targaryen were entering the solar of the new Princess of Dorne Elia Nymeros Martell.
Lord Stark began, "My Princess, you are a very welcome sight to these tired eyes. Thank you for extending your hospitality to myself and my men."
"You are most welcome good-brother." Princess Elia said with a slight smile.
"My servants will show you gentleman to your chambers," she said getsuring to Ned's six companions. "I would speak with my good-brother and the Kingsguard for a moment gentlemen."
Ned's companions left with the servants towards the guest chambers. The air in the room became decidedly more anxious when it was only Ned, the Kingsguard, the wet-nurse, and Ned's niece remaining.
Ned immediately stepped forward and got down on one knee. "My Princess please allow me to offer my most sincere condolences in regards to your son. If I had known...if I had thought for a moment...I, well I would of done anything necessary to have you spared such pain."
Ned fealt a hand lay gently atop his head.
"What happened to my son was no fault of yours Ned. I've already heard of the rather heated arguement you had with the Usurper over that and the Lannister's other actions. I'm sorry as well about Lyanna. I only met her a few times, but I liked her despite what our husband did. I know you don't know all of the details, but I was aware of everything going on. Neither one of us had any real control over what happend. It was pure luck that she wanted out of her betrothal with Baratheon. I believe Rhaegar would have taken her whether she had come willingly or not. She was only fourteen when they met, and despite her fierceness, she was not to blame for all that occurred. Please don't allow what happend to taint your memory of her. You know as well as I how that prophecy was his own form of madness. May I look upon the child?" Elia asked.
"Certainly," said Ned.
Ned watched as little Visenya was brought to her and she held her gently. 'Elia Martell was born to be a mother,' thought Ned.
Elia said, "she looks like them both; a perfect blend. You can easily see the resemblance between her and Rhaenys."
"That you can," agreed Ned.
She gave the baby a gentle smile when her little hand grabbed onto her finger. She reached out and placed a hand on Ned's shoulder.
"Ned," she said softly; "she can stay here and grow up with her sister and her cousins. Her grandmother will be here with Viserys and little Daenerys anyway. She's Rhaenys' sister and Daeron's cousin on both sides. She will be loved and protected the same as the rest of them. We'll discuss the details on the morrow with Rhaella, but i think Daeron, little Visenya, and hopefully your young Jon will be able to perhaps split their time between here and Winterfell. Maybe even Rhaenys can go with Daeron too when she's a bit older; it's nigh on impossible to separate those two."
"Thank you my lady," Ned said with heart-fealt graditude.
"Now, get some rest Ned. They'll show you all to your chambers," Princess Elia said.
The next day dawned bright and clear as per usual in Dorne. Ned, while still feeling a deep-seated tiredness, was clean and rested. He would see his boy for the first time today in over a year. Gods, he had missed him so. His smiles and innocent laughter were always such a balm to Ned's soul. It was also the day he would see his little son with the Lady Ashara. By the gods, did Ned miss and crave her. His love for her was unlike any other he had ever fealt. He was drawn back into his memories of how they came about.
He and Elaena had loved one another, in their own way. They had been betrothed by their grandfather King Jaehaerys almost all of their lives. He was very young and she was three years his senior. She was extremely beautiful and he couldn't help but grow to love her, and he'd like to think she had him. When she had given him his son, Ned's heart had been full of love for them both. He imagined a beautiful family living and growing up quietly in Summerhall away from all the drama of the Game, just as his grandfather had intended. Then he lost her and he knew his life would never be the same. His dreams of a quiet life evaporated like so much smoke in the wind.
The Tourney at Harrenhal was where it all started, and the seeds planted then would cause it all to unravel. Before its consequences could come about, the gods granted him a reprieve. He had thought that perhaps he could get his happiness afterall. His happiness was to be found in the person of the Lady Ashara Dayne; lady-in-waiting and best friend of his good-sister the Princess Elia. He was quiet and somewhat shy, and she had all but dragged him out to the dance floor. He was still certain that Brandon and Elia were behind the two of them meeting. As impossible as it sounds, after a single dance he was in love. She was the most remarkable and beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. That she also adored his son warmed his heart.
He had thought she would make the perfect Lady of the North; that her haunting violet eyes and ethereal beauty would captivate and charm the blood of the First Men. That she had very little Andal blood was another boon. He did not know if his people would react warmly to a true Andal Southroner. His people were very much cautious of the eroding of the ancient Northern culture. His own mother had been accepted because she was of the blood of Old Valyria. Ned had been confident that Ashara would be well recieved as the Daynes were the blood of the Rhoynar and Old Valyria.
Several months into their courship, Ned had asked Lord Dayne for his sisters' hand. When he accepted Ned's suite he had been overjoyed; Ashara had been as well. They were to be married in less than a year after the conclusion of his studies under Jon Arryn. Then it all went to the seven hells. His Father and Brandon were killed and Lyanna dissappeared. He had left the Vale to call the banners. He was willing to be branded a kinslayer to avenge his loved ones. His Uncle Aerys would rue the day he set his mad eyes upon the house of the Starks. Winter was coming for him.
As he and his host passed through the Neck and made for the Twins, he recieved a monumental shock. His army would not be allowed to pass into the Riverlands if he did not honour his brother Brandon's betrothal to the Tully's. He could not aquiesce to that. He would not. He thought another arrangement would be made when he informed them that he was already formally betrothed to the Lady Ashara. Hoster Tully showed the depths of his dishonour when he forced the issue. The parvenue had the nerve to imply a threat to his son Daeron. With his boy and Princess Rhaenys being at Summerhall, deep within the Stormlands, he implied their safety against Baratheon men could not be guaranteed without the alliance of the Riverlands. His men would not cross the Twins without the alliance.
That was the day that his own dragon blood became evident. Privately, Ned swore vengeance against House Tully and Lord Hoster especially. 'Andal Filth,' he had spat at them; though none but Jon Arryn heard. He submitted, for truly he had absolutely no choice. He would not endanger his beloved son or Princess Rhaenys. When the damned Trout had then gone on to insist that Daeron be removed as his heir and only come after any children of his born of the Lady Catelyn both the dragon and the direwolf within him snapped. In an instant he had drawn his sword and was ready to strike the filth down when Jon Arryn intervened. He talked him down and then stood tall beside him as he forced Hoster Tully to forget such dishonourable notions. His foster-father then went a step further for Ned and forced all of them and in Robert Baratheon's name to sign a treaty that guaranteed Daeron's rights not only as heir of Winterfell and the North, but also to the Principality of Summerhall for him and his heirs. Princess Rhaenys as his son's bethrothed was also to be considered as a Stark and her safety guaranteed. He would always honour Jon Arryn for his help in defending his boy.
He had shed private tears as he wrote to his Ashara of all that had transpired. Never in his life had Ned Stark fealt so dejected. His wedding to Catelyn Tully had been a frosty affair. He tried not to transfer his hate of the woman's father on to her. She seemed to be a good woman. Ned still held to honour. He would be faithful to the vows he had said. He had been forced to break one oath; he would not break another. Then the letter came two days after the wedding. Ashara was with child. They had waited so long. Ned had not wanted to dishonour her, but on their last visit their passion for each other could no longer be denied. They had consummated their love in the knowledge that regardless of anything, they would soon be man and wife. Catelyn had been curious about his sudden change in mood, but he could not bring himself to enlighten her.
His thoughts came full circle when he found himself entering the room in which the woman who still held his heart sat. Ashara was just as he remembered her, except now she held a baby in her arms that he could tell even from this distance was a true Stark. She gave him a slightly wan smile. Also there, was his aunt Queen Rhaella. She held a little baby girl with platinum hair that must be the Princess Daenerys. Prince Viserys stood beside his mother. Princess Elia was standing in the center of the room with an arm around two children. On one side was the Princess Rhaenys, and on the other was his first-born Daeron. Both children lit up upon sighting him crossing the threshold. Daeron's face was alight with joy as he raced forward and Ned grabbed him as he jumped into his arms and held him tight to his chest as he spun him around. The six year old boy held on to him as if he would never let him go.
"Papa, you came for me! I've missed you so much Papa." Daeron said.
Ned replied, "I've missed you too my boy, so so much."
"Promise me you'll never be gone this long again. Please Papa, I don't think I can bear it!"
"I promise son. Never again." Ned said; and he meant it. He would never be parted from his boy for so long again.
Ned looked down when he fealt a tugging on his pant leg.
"I've missed you too Uncle Ned," little Princess Rhaenys said. Her big violet eyes were wide as she smiled up at him.
Ned bent on his knee and drew both children in his arms and said, "I've missed you too little princess."
Both children did as they usually did and grabbed one of his hands a piece and dragged him towards the others.
"My Queen," Ned said as he bowed to his aunt and former good-mother.
"Nephew," Queen Rhaella said. "You have been much missed," she said as she gave him a kiss on the cheek. She still looked as beautiful as always, despite all the hardships they had all endured. Ashara slowly stepped forward then.
"My Lord Stark," she said quietly. "Allow me to present your son, Jon."
She held the baby boy out to him and he was quick to cradle him gently in his arms. His son had curly soft black hair and his eyes mixed with flecks of violet from his mother. He seemed to be a quiet baby and Ned could have sworn he smiled at him.
"Thank you for this my lady. He shall be known as Jon of Houses Stark and Dayne, just as Princess Elia decreed.
Ned spent the next two weeks at Sunspear spending time with his children and other relatives. He and Ashara, by unspoken agreement interacted but seldom. It was simply too painful for the both of them. Ned spent a great deal of time closeted together with the Dowager Queen Rhaella, Princess Elia, and Elia's advisors making plans for the children's future as well as preparing for the upcoming visit of Jon Arryn. The Lord of the Vale was coming to negotiate terms with Dorne as Hand of the King for Robert, (who even he was coming to think of as 'the Usurper' in his private thoughts.
As far as the children were concerned they had agreed fairly easily. As his son and heir, Daeron would spend half the year in Dorne with the women who raised him; the Queen his grandmother and the Princess Elia. The other half would be spent in the North in Winterfell with him and his Stark kin there. In a few years, little Jon would also go with his half-brother. Daeron had made him beam with pride when he had told him that he would always look out for his little brother. He had said the same about little Princess Visenya. The pack that stays together survives together and they were his pack. Little Visenya would also go on the trips north when Jon did to be a part of her mother's lands. His Aunt Rhaella had sworn to him to raise Visenya as her own as she was her grand daughter and Elia had of course already given her blessing. She wanted Rhaenys to have her remaining sibling grow up with her. The North and Dorne were the only places any of these children would be safe.
Ned had come to an agreement with Queen Rhaella to take control of what had been the Royal Targaryen Fleet and make it his own. He made plans to keep it updated and to greatly expand the fleet. He had informed Elia and Rhaella of the accords he agreed to with Mace Tyrell for an alliance of the North and the Reach. They had both approved. He and Elia signed an even closer treaty for the North and Dorne. They would defend one another in all things. They sent off letters for a tri-partide agreement between the Reach, the North, and Dorne to Mace Tyrell and the Lady Olenna. In it they hinted at a betrothal between one of Mace Tyrell's sons and the Princess Visenya.
They had agreed that they would tell the Usurper the truth that she was the daughter of Prince Rhaegar and Lyanna. However, they would make out that she had been forced to wed him. Hopefully it would somewhat cool the Stags ire. The Tyrell's would know the truth. This alliance would force the powers in Kings Landing to agree to their terms. They knew the realm could ill-afford more war at present. His own forces and that of Dorne were in no position to wage further war. They would take their time to rebuild and recover from the rebellion. However they all knew the stags and the lions would not be able to sit easy on their throne while the heirs to the old guard still lived. They would wait, and they would grow. And then, when the time was right, they would see the True King Daeron and his Queen Rhaenys reigning over the Seven Kingdoms as was their right. They would return; with fire and with blood.