Thanks for sticking with me guys. Life is busy, but I am going to keep trying to make an effort to update this.
Prince Doran awaited them beneath a canopy of yellow silk, alone but for a hulking man with skin the colour of ebony. As a gesture of trust, Daenerys and Viserys had left their guards at a distance, along with their dragons. The distance did little to diminish the impression that Drogon and Viserion created, though, black and white together, great beasts of death, their necks arching high into the air as they watched the Targaryens together.
Daenerys did not speak when they entered, curious to see how the old man would address them, and Viserys followed her lead. Doran sat before them, hunched and broken in his wheeled chair, looking up at the proud, vital young dragonlords. Ser Barristan followed them silently into the shade, and Quentyn slipped past him and went to kneel at his fathers feet.
"Father," he said, pressing the old man's hand with both of his own. "Father - Prince Doran - allow me to present to you Daenerys Stormborn, Mother of Dragons."
Daenerys felt Viserys stiffen at the lack of honorifics given to her, and she hurriedly gestured to Ser Barristan.
The old knight understood her meaning and stepped forward.
"Before you stands Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen," he said, and Dany stood in unmoved silence whilst he listed the rest of her titles. "First of her Name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons."
Viserys was becoming tense, and Dany was grateful when Ser Barristan began to recite her brother's titles as well.
"And her brother, Viserys the Golden of House Targaryen, Third of his Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, Dragon-Rider."
"And you, Selmy," Doran said affably to Ser Barristan. "You are serving the dragons again, I see."
"And will you?" Viserys asked sharply, no longer content to remain silent. "We are home at last, and we will take what we wish whether our vassals will give it or no. Will you bend the knee, Martell?"
A faint smile played across the prince's face. "I am afraid, my lord, bending either of my knees is beyond me this past twelve-year." He gestured wryly to his swollen legs.
"Make no attempt at humour, princeling," Viserys returned haughtily, and Dany wished for the thousandth time that he would try not to let his pride rule him this way.
"Will you serve us as you served our father, Prince Doran?" she asked, determined to regain control of the situation. "House Martell were ever among our most loyal subjects."
"You forget, my queen, that I am already pledged to support a Targaryen king - my grandson Aegon."
"He is no true dragon-" Viserys began, but Dany cut him off with a touch on his arm. Alienating an old man who believed himself reunited with his long-dead grandson would bring them no gain.
"The validity of Aegon's claim is in question, Prince," she said smoothly. "Until it is verified - by us - you would be wiser to support the true monarchs."
"But why would you claim my grandson as your own when he threatens your power?" Doran asked simply, as skilled at this negotiating game as Dany was - more so, for he had decades of experience.
"Why would we do anything other but welcome back one of our own?" She countered, feeling her inadequacy.
"If indeed he is," Viserys added darkly.
"Enough of Aegon," Dany said. "If Aegon he is, we will decide his fate later. Even if he were the true Aegon, he is not the pure blood of the dragon as we are. He would be unworthy to sit the iron throne. We are the acknowledged children of Aerys, the rightful king. We are the rightful rulers now. What we came here to ask, Prince of Dorne, is if you will stand with us, as the Martells have always stood with our blood—"
"—Or if we will crush you beneath our heel," Viserys finished her sentence for her. She glanced across at him, noting the wide grin on his face. He looked as though he was enjoying the prince's discomfort.
"And yet, pure Targaryen or not, Aegon is the rightful king by Westerosi law," Doran said, seeming determined to keep dragging the conversation back to his grandson.
"You challenge our rule, old man?" Viserys grinned. "I know an army and three dragons that would argue against you on that point."
"Ah yes, the dragons," Doran peered past them at Drogon and Viserion. "I wondered when we would come to them. No one can doubt the legitimacy of your claim. You are the last Targaryens, and you have the dragons to prove it. And yet, is it not said that the dragon has three heads? Who rides your third dragon, Queen Daenerys? And if my grandson is who he says he is - and of this I have no doubt - he becomes the rightful king, taking your brother's place in line to the throne."
"What is it that you are hinting at?" Dany asked bluntly, suddenly tiring of the elaborate arguments, the crossing of words instead of swords. She thought of what it felt like to ride Drogon, with the wind in her hair, when there was just his wings and the sky, and the world was so much simpler.
"I will support your claim," Doran said, equally blunt now. "House Martell will renew its old oaths of alliance and our armies shall be your armies. But only for a price." He looked directly at Dany now. "It was rumoured that you were the one truly in command, and not your brother, and now I see the truth to those rumours. Mother of Dragons, if you would have my support you will wed my grandson and gift him your third dragon to ride. He will rule beside you as king. I would ask for your brother Viserys' hand for my daughter Arianne to further cement our alliance, but I know you will have need of him to forge some other marriage alliance, and now that I have met him I would not want him for my daughter's bridegroom." He spread his hands in supplication. "You have asked me to speak plainly and I have obeyed. That is the cost of my support."
Daenerys glanced at her brother. He was silent, waiting to see what she would say, but she could feel the fury rolling off him in waves. "Then we shall not have your support," she said, regretting the statement a little even as she said it. Dorne had been the only one of the Seven Kingdoms upon which she had thought she could count for support. But the price was too high. She was not a whore to be sold off for armies - that had happened before, and never again, no, never. And to give up Viserys, her golden, fire-burned brother? Never, never, by the old gods and the new!
"You ask too much, Prince," she continued. "We are not here to bargain. We are here to conquer, as the first Aegon did before us. We will meet our nephew, but I will never sully myself by marrying a Targaryen of tainted blood. My only husband is my brother. You will not offer your support, and if you persist in this course of action, I will raze Dorne to the ground." She made the threat calmly, certain that Doran would rescind if she threatened him enough. "My dragons are creatures of fire, my lord, and they yearn to light the world aflame. I am only a girl, unschooled in the ways of the world and of war, and if my children wish it enough, perhaps not even I will be able to restrain them. Dorne will burn, and your people will be put to the sword. Viserys tells me that dragons are known to have a particular taste for princessflesh. As the only other princess is leagues away in Kings Landing, perhaps we will pay your daughter Arianne a visit."
The threat was completely fabricated, and such a scholarly man as Doran would likely realise that, but he heard the iron in her voice and paled at the threat to his child. He looked at the dragons again, and then Rhaegal, still circling overhead, let out a wild scream. Doran flinched badly and his fingers tightened on Quentyn's hand.
"Your grace—" he began, but Daenerys cut him off.
"I had hoped for more from you, Prince. Our oldest ally and relative besides, and you seek to coerce and bully us? Us, the dragonborn? I beg you, reconsider. All we wish is to reclaim our birthright, rid the Seven Kingdoms of the Usurper and guide our lands back to peace and prosperity."
"Your grace," Doran said, and bowed his head. "I will serve you and King Viserys. Dorne rallies to your banners."
Back outside the tent, as they were walking back towards the Unsullied, Viserys let out a whoop of glee. Dany stared at him, astonished. She had never known her restrained, tense sibling to make such a sound of unadulterated joy before. Why, it made him sound almost…almost young.
"What was that?" She asked, laughing.
"I knew you had him," Viserys grinned, his smile gleaming like sunlight, transforming his features to the unclouded expression that Dany wished he would show to more people. "The instant you said 'I am but a young girl' I knew you had him. That's when people should fear you most, when you pretend to be harmless. And oh, my sweet, sweet sister—" he seized both her hands and pulled her round in a quick dance of delight, their black boots scuffing the burning sands, "Oh, Daenerys, we have done it! We are home, and within minutes one of the Seven Kingdoms has sworn allegiance. This will be over far sooner than we thought. Dorne is conquered without a drop of blood spilt, all due to your skill. I could never bandy words with that insufferable cripple like you did. The upstart dog. I have not the patience. But you did it, and Dorne is ours! Oh, I have never loved you more!"
Dany laughed. "I am glad you are happy, Viserys." That was all that mattered really. Her brother, their dragon-children, and their happiness.
