AN - Apologies are in order for last chapter. Rickon was mentioned as being alive - this was a mistake, Rickon did not have chance to be born. Thank you to the reviewer who brought this to my attention. Without further ado, please enjoy the next chapter.

A Dragon Revealed

Surprisingly enough, Edric had been able to call upon the arms of both the main house of Dayne in Starfall and the arms of the cadet branch and their holdings in High Hermitage. Together the total Dayne forces numbered within the thousands, three thousand to be exact. Although they were not composed in the same way as the Northern armies that Jon was used to, he couldn't say that the Dornish way of war was wrong though. It produced results in a far different manner to that which Jon was used to. Which made sense considering the drastically different climates.

Whereas the Northern forces focused on heavy infantry, limited but very heavy cavalry and light archer support, the Dornish seemed to have evolved in a different direction. The majority of the forces were actually footman, each armed with a long spear and a few javelins that were attached to their back. Due to the heat of Dorne, these spearmen wore heavily armoured breastplates but neglected armour elsewhere. Because the footmen were trained in ranged combat as well, there were no dedicated archers within the force that Edric had mustered.

There were, however, some rather strange horsemen.

Rather than being knights of any recognisable kind, they were a much lighter cavalry with the same level of armour as the spearmen and with much the same armaments too. Each of the horsemen had a spear, nothing heavy like a lance but still longer than a typical hunting spear for example. Along the side of the horse a few javelins were stored, which the cavalry would hurl at the front lines then dart away before the enemy footmen could respond properly. And for chasing down the enemy, and for brief clashes with other horsemen, they were armed with a curved sword that seemed to be weighted towards the tip, making it all but useless as a stabbing weapon but giving it much more power in a slashing motion.

So altogether the forces were formidable, even if it wasn't in the 'traditional' way as Jon would see it. It would be a rather strong learning experience for himself to be honest, he was used to commanding men but he was used to waging war in the same way that the Northern armies had been making war for thousands of years. Might take him a bit to learn to adapt to the way that the Dornish had been waging war for thousands of years as well.

Thankfully it seemed that Edric had a much firmer grasp of how his people fought than Jon did, naturally, and wasn't going to make a big deal out of teaching him how to command like a Dornishman. Even though they both admitted that would be exactly what Lancel would have done if Jon had asked how to command forces like a Lannister.

Though why Jon would ever ask how to hire disposable mercenaries and tell them to charge he didn't know.

It was kind of liberating, being able to make quite so many Lannister jokes openly now that they were on the march, still within the confines of Dorne, if only just. No one in Dorne would take offense to jokes at the expense of the Lannister's after all. And both Jon and Edric were happy to be able to enjoy the jokes, safe in the knowledge that them laughing wasn't going to upset Lancel. There was an unofficial ban on Lannister jokes back north at the headquarters of the Order - nobody wanted to deal with an angry Lancel Lannister - when he was angry sparring took a decidedly more painful turn.

Here though? Well the Lannister jokes were free game, even though the Dornish forces that Jon was riding with were now going to be entering the Stormlands themselves. Despite the fact that the Queen was a Lannister, even the Baratheon Bannermen would still be found enjoying a good Lannister joke.

Was this what it took to keep the southern Stormlander's from chomping at the bit to fight the Dornish? Some jokes about Lannister's, gold, whores and a bucket of milk? It seemed to be because there weren't any of the fights between the two forces that Edric had been worried about. Instead they were viewed with a healthy amount of suspicion until their intentions could be found out by some questioning of Edric himself.

So while he was off talking with some Baratheon Bannermen who would rather see the Dornish burn in the seven hells than step foot in the Stormlands, regardless of the ongoing invasion, Jon and the rest of the forces were left to cool their heels on the Dornish side of the border. Which, for convenience sake it seemed, was a river. Normally Jon wouldn't have minded at all but unfortunately for him, it seemed that some of the other Dornish had decided it was time to contribute to the defence of Westeros.

The men of House Dayne had made jokes when another two thousand spearmen from House Martell showed up at the border a few hours after them. Something about how House Martell only made their move when House Dayne was ready to show them up. He didn't remember the exact joke and he didn't care. Because although the Martell commander, one Prince Oberyn Martell, was off with Edric to negotiate passage across the river with the surly Stormlander lord who's Keep guarded the border, he had left his forces behind with the forces of House Dayne.

Nothing wrong with soldiers of the same kingdom mixing with one another before they move forwards to do battle with common foe now is there? Absolutely not. Jon was actually rather glad that the men would get a chance to meet with the men they would stand side by side with. It promoted a sense of comradery that really helped men to push past what they thought were their limits, all in the name of helping their comrades. It was a good idea to let the men mingle - he just wish that he didn't stick out like a sore thumb. Maybe then he would have been ignored by the annoyances that were the Sand Snakes.

Oberyn Martell was a man of many lovers and, seemingly, just as many daughters.

Thank all the Old Gods, individually, that he had only seen fit to bring three of his daughters to war with him. Jon didn't believe he could honestly have been able to stand it if he had been sought out by all seven of the Sand Snakes and not just the three. Though he supposed it might be easier seeing as some of the others would be much younger and capable of being much less aggravating.

And the really bad part?

They had only just dismounted their horses and started making their way to him. They had been in his sight less than five minutes and already he could feel the mischief of Arya being put to shame. And the desire to be a warrior that Arya felt being dwarfed. And… well the beauty of a pre-teen girl couldn't really stand up to the beauty of a woman who looked like she was styled by the Gods themselves to make men think better of their marriage vows.

Apparently one of them recognised him, just sitting on a stone under a tree polishing his sword, because they began to make their way over to him. Either that or they recognised Valyrian steel when they saw it. There weren't all that many Valyrian steel swords left in the world and most of them tended to be famous in Westeros. He sighed a little bit as the youngest of them, the one with a bright and mischievous expression on her face, came almost skipping over, trying to look as innocent as possible.

Without meaning to, he reacted instinctively, having seen Arya try that expression a few times and having had said expression work with Sansa a few times,

"No."

There was a moment of silence where Jon realised what he had said and inwardly groaned and the woman heard what he said and tried to process it for a moment. The youngest was the first to speak,

"No… what?"

Jon siGhed a little bit, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he looked at the Sand Snakes again. The oldest, Obara he believed she was called, looked like she was about to start glaring at him and her grip on her spear seemed to tighten. The middle sister, the incredibly beautiful one, seemed to be rather neutral but he doubted it. Youngest? She was still trying to look innocent, of course, so she currently looked like a beaten puppy.

Best to answer honestly.

"I've got two little sisters. Both of them have tried that act before and it's usually because they want something they know I'd say no to normally." he told them, causing the youngest to scowl prettily as the oldest scoffed in amusement and the gorgeous one just smiled a very distracting smile, "Since there's only one interesting thing about me… I'd say you were going to ask to hold my sword. So… no."

To punctuate his answer, Jon sheathed Red Rain with finality before watching them for whatever reaction they would give. He might have based it on the actions of his sisters in the past but he honestly had no guarantee that the youngest one here didn't normally act like that and he hadn't called her out on being a bit of a brat when she was just acting normal. He didn't think that was the case, considering the reactions of her older sisters, but he might just have put himself in a rather dangerous position - sitting in front of three pissed off Sand Snakes alone by a river.

Perfect recipe for murdering and hiding the body.

"She thought you were someone famous."

A very blunt and concise description from Obara there. She had the same smoky accent as all beautiful women from Dorne seemed to have but there was a bluntness there that, honestly, reminded Jon of the Mormont women. Although that might have actually just been because she looked like she was equipped for the war ahead of them. The other two looked like they were more suited to court than a warzone but their own father had dragged them here himself so he supposed they might have a purpose.

Was the middle woman's job to distract the enemy? Because if she was within sight he might not be able to keep his own mind on the battle… right up until that point where Jon felt the rush of battle again. If he was feeling that rush he doubted that even the beautiful Sand Snake could distract him.

But dwelling on what-if scenarios didn't remove him from his current, potentially dangerous, position.

"Oh?" he raised an eyebrow at the younger sister, "And who did you think I was? Surely no one too important."

Was he going to have a problem with the Sand Snakes? He was told he looked very similar to his father but he didn't think that Eddard Stark had done much to earn the ire of Dorne. The Martell's might well hate the Baratheon's and the Lannister's for their parts in the death of Elia Martell but what the hell had Eddard Stark done? The only thing he could think of was that he hadn't showed up in time to stop the Lannister's. But that had been a very near thing - after all, Eddard Stark had been only a matter of minutes too late to stop the Mad King's death, let alone the death of Elia Martell.

What was the younger woman's name again? Some of the Dayne men had taunted him about the Sand Snakes before he had arrived, about how they would eat him alive if he met them. Might have been part of the reason why he was so wary of them honestly. But the teasing one? She was… Tyrene? Tyene. That was it. She seemed to be scowling perfectly well at Obara now,

"I thought he was the Whitewolf!"

The fuck?

He was a name that people knew all the way across the fucking continent? If he had brought Ghost with him, he might have understood. But he had decided that life this far south would likely be too much for the wolf to stand and had left him with Gendry with the Order. Ghost liked Gendry well enough to obey his commands… if he felt like it. And he knew better than to hunt within the keep and its surrounding village. But recognising him as Ser Jon Whitewolf without the visual aid of the massive white dire wolf? That was a bit scary to be honest.

Why did people know of him?

Oh yes. Probably because he had alerted the world to his threat-level because he had gone and done away with a family who had held power in their area of Westeros for the better part of three hundred years. That was the kind of thing that got you noticed he supposed. He was about to make a joke, to decrease the chances of them suspecting him, when the gorgeous sister, Nymeria he now remembered, ruined that simply enough,

"He is Ser Jon Whitewolf." she remarked with a soft smirk, "Although I think he wishes I hadn't told you that."

Jon gave her a weak glare that had no real heat in it while her sisters reacted differently. Tyene seemed to be very pleased with herself, going so far as to make a face at Obara, who looked at first embarrassed and then angry. As if it was his fault that she had just assumed that he wasn't Ser Whitewolf because he hadn't immediately jumped up to 'claim his fame' or some such rot. All of a sudden he felt that he didn't really want to be here anymore but he doubted that they were just going to let him leave.

Even if only one of them seemed actually interested in speaking to him. He wondered what it was that Tyene actually wanted to know. Maybe something about Pyke?

"I heard you got poisoned by a plant from the Neck. Did you happen to know which one?"

Her enthusiasm was clear and that was, actually, a touch more concerning that anything else. She wanted to know about a poison that had damned near killed him? He wasn't sure he liked what that implied about her and her intentions towards him. Obara seemed annoyed that she had asked and Nymeria seem annoyed as well, though he got the impression she was more annoyed about how he had asked rather than the fact that he had actually asked in the first place.

He looked between the sisters for a moment, keeping an eye out for Edric's return. The Lord Dayne would be a perfect excuse to leave these ladies - anything else and they might get offended. He might not know as much about the Sand Snakes as the natives did but what he did know suggested that they might not react well if he slighted them in some way. Most gossip he had heard suggested that they would react completely out of proportion and with potentially lethal repercussions.

Jon though those stories were most likely nothing but crap but he didn't really want to be pushed into a position where he had to figure that out.

"Honestly? I don't know." he admitted with a small frown, "I was slipping in and out of consciousness… I do know that only the Crannogmen seemed to have any idea what needed to be done to cure me. I'm afraid I'm a touch unreliable when it comes to telling you what antidote was administered as well. Afraid I was busy trying not to die."

Okay so he had told himself he wasn't going to antagonise them, and he was going to keep that promise to himself, but he really couldn't help the last comment when Tyene looked like she was about to start pouting because he couldn't tell her the poison that almost killed him. Because he had been busy being delirious at the time. It was nice to have something confirmed of course - the Sand Snakes seemed to be as interested in poisons as their father was.

Really not good for his health if they decided that they were going to be angry with him for whatever reason.

Tyene did seem to be a bit put out at not getting the answer she wanted but she didn't seem to be angry - not that he trusted in his ability to read the emotions of a woman he had only just met. At least, not enough for him to potentially risk himself. He'd already had one experience of being poisoned and he was in no hurry to experience the same thing again if he were honest. He doubted he'd ever share the fascination with it that the Sand Snakes and their father, the Red Viper himself, seemed to have regarding the disgusting weapon.

"You took Red Rain from Lord Drumm… and burned Pyke to the ground." Obara asked him with a small frown, "Why did you do that? Why take the heirloom of another family? And why ruin the lives of those not named Greyjoy just the same as those who were?"

Old Gods and the New… Obara really wasn't for beating round the bush was she? Most people would have cautiously asked him a question like that but she had pushed on through, brazen as anything, and just asked him straight. Seemed that neither of her sisters had expected her to be that blunt either as Nymeria looked to be disapproving in a gorgeous and incredibly, annoyingly, distracting way and Tyene was glaring at her sister.

Though whether or not that was because she had lost her chance to ask more questions about his symptoms to narrow down which poison it could be, he didn't know.

But what would he tell them? The truth seemed to be the best option but he wasn't about to move on into the long winded explanation - he was still planning on escaping these snakes after all. He looked between the sisters again before sighing a little bit to himself. Seriously, it was like looking at personifications of the worst aspects of his sister's personalities - were all women only a strange upbringing away from being like the Sand Snakes? Probably.

"I burned Pyke because the Greyjoy's might have been in charge but they were hardly the only raiders on the island. The islanders would have rallied and they would have raided again fairly quickly - burning their town and castle removed them from play and left a power vacuum. So no raiding. No threat to my family and my people." he stressed the last part before adding, "And I took Red Rain because, by Ironborn customs, it was now mine. And I wasn't about to leave a Valyrian steel sword to burn in some salt-encrusted castle."

Red Rain… he had taken it because he wanted to. It had been simple enough at the time and he didn't regret taking it for one minute. Others would object to how he had taken it but, if the stories about the blade were true then Red Rain had been taken by trickery anyway. At least he had carried on that tradition, even if he hadn't been able to do so with a wooden cudgel in hand at the time. He wasn't a selfish man in many ways but he really wanted to take that sword for himself, so he had done so.

An indulgence here and there was hardly the end of the world now was it?

Obara nodded once, accepting his answer without actually speaking. Seemed he had passed some sort of test or the like. Not that he really cared if he had the approval of the Sand Snakes, he would just settle for not having their attention. Nymeria spoke for the first time to him,

"It is good that you place family so highly." she agreed with a nod, "It is one of the only things that matter in this life. It's why kinslaying is so hated."

Jon should have watched his mouth. He really should have just kept his mouth shut until he had managed to reign in the impulse to shoot off a smart comment to that. But it ended up being too tempting. The chance to call the Sand Snakes of their hypocrisy was just too tempting for him to pass up, especially seeing as he was looking for any reason for them to just leave him alone.

Let it be a smart comment getting them angry enough to leave, he supposed.

"And the fact that we're currently marching to engage Aegon Targaryen's host from Essos fits with that world view now does it?" he asked with a raised brow, "If your father finds himself facing Aegon in the midst of battle, will he actually fight? Will he become a kinslayer?"

Oh he had touched a nerve there! If he wasn't already holding Red Rain he might feel like he was in mortal danger right now. But fully armoured and with his weapon of choice literally in his hands? He was confident that all he'd managed to do was get three women rather angry at him in the space of a few seconds. Besides, it was a good question.

Oberyn Martell was famous throughout Westeros for his almost undying hatred of all things Lannister for the actions that had led to the death of his sister Elia Martell. If the commander of this invasion truly was Aegon Targaryen then he was the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell herself. He honestly doubted that Oberyn would march to war, even with only a token force like the two thousand he had brought, if he believed there was even the slightest chance that he would be facing Elia's son in combat.

What did Oberyn know that the rest of Westeros didn't? The rest of Westeros was happy enough to accept Aegon was who he said he was but the Martell's would likely have had to have proof that they were right before they made any moves against Aegon. So how was it that the Martell's had information about this 'Aegon' while the rest of Westeros, even Varys, didn't?

Or maybe Varys did… and that was how the Martell's knew they would not be slaying kin? But if Varys knew then why wasn't he letting the rest of Westeros know that this 'Aegon' was a fake?

Honestly, Jon did not have a head for politics. He was glad he wasn't royalty, if he was then he would have been forced into 'The Game of Thrones' as a much bigger piece. Probably came with all kinds of problems… he had trouble balancing his impact on the realm now as the commander of a knightly order. He'd probably make a terrible King. Though he really liked to think he was still manage a better job than Robert Baratheon, the only other example Jon had of a good warrior being made King.

Except Aegon the Conqueror of course, but he'd had dragons so that was kind of an unfair comparison.

And while he had been despairing in his inability to deal with court politics, it appeared that the Sand Snakes were backing off, despite being very angry just moments before. He glanced to the right, seeing a tall, olive-skinned, man with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at him. Attractive, objectively speaking, and had the same eyes as the Sand Snakes. So this, from what Jon could guess, was Oberyn Martell.

Seemed he might have heard Jon asking the question.

Pissing off the Sand Snakes? Not something that was usually advised but most people wouldn't be too harsh on him for that. But pissing off a Prince of Dorne? Well that was a lot worse if he had to speak entirely objectively. Jon thought about his options - apologise immediately or try and run?

Oberyn stopped that choice cold.

"It does when the man who styles himself as my nephew is a liar." he declared, answering the question Jon had actually asked, "I will kill that man and take great pleasure in killing the man who would uses the names of my loved ones in his mad gambit for power."

It was a good answer but it did remind Jon that, somehow, the Martell's knew that the Aegon in command of the forces was not actually the Aegon sired by Elia Martell. But how? How could they possibly know this? Jon resolved not to think about that for now. Because if Aegon was the real dragon or not, it didn't matter, he was still a threat to both the Realm and to Jon's family.

"Besides, White Wolf… the whole world should already know he could never be a Martell." he declared seriously before smirking wide and pulling Jon in close with one arm, causing Jon to make a strange noise in alarm as he was pressed up against the suddenly very happy Dornishman, "He charges into Westeros like a wounded boar! No Martell would be this reckless and no Targaryen would have been failing for so long - or so the history books will tell you of young men named Aegon eh?"

What the hells was happening?

One minute the man looked like he was about to murder and the next he was pulling Jon into a hug he had STILL not managed to escape from despite his confused struggles. He broke free with a scowl that was matched by Oberyn's smug little smirk. The answer was not an answer at all - nothing but a jape. But it did touch on one issue that Jon was still rather confused about. The issue was simply put; Why? Why was Aegon invading with an army full of foreigners?

Jon didn't pretend that the realm was as united as people liked to think it was. There was still bad blood between the Lannister's and the Martell's. The Baratheon's and the Tyrell's were also at odds if you counted the opinions of the older brothers - and discounted how well Prince Renly spoke of them. But there were former loyalist house from the Rebellion that would have happily risen up as one if they had been brought into the planning, if their support had been cultivated.

But Aegon didn't seem to have done any of that.

Instead he had invaded the Stormlands with a foreign army and… what? Expected that Westeros would fall before him as it had to his ancestor all those years ago? Unless the young man had three fully grown dragons with trained riders, he was going to be in for a rude awakening. Because all he had managed to do was what Robert Baratheon had been trying, and failing, to do for years now - he'd unified Westeros.

The Lannister's and the Martell's might hate each other but neither house would stand for armies from Essos to be running roughshod through Westeros, even if it meant working on the same side of the battlefield as each other. Enemy of my enemy is still my enemy in this case, only difference was that neither the Martell's nor the Lannister's would fight each other while engaging another enemy.

He thought so anyway.

A commotion was beginning to ripple through the ranks now, starting from closer to the riverbank. Jon narrowed his eyes, spotting the tell-tale cloud of dust on the horizon. He picked up his shield from where it had been resting on the ground, not bothering to make an excuse when he noticed that Oberyn was sobering up at the sight as well. A dust cloud that large usually meant an army of some size was marching. Jon left Oberyn and his daughters as they left to prepare the Martell forces as Jon made for the Dayne forces.

Who could it possibly be that was marching towards them? It would be easy to say that it was the enemy, Aegon, and his forces but he was approaching from true north. For the enemy to be marching from that direction, they would have either had to have already taken Blackhaven, the true guardian fortress of the southern Stormlands, despite what the lord of this tiny keep would believe. Blackhaven was a true fortress with some of the best walls and defences that could be mustered.

Not great defences but considering the army was currently sitting in the middle of perhaps the driest part of the marshes, he might not have a good enough picture of the true marshes to decide if the defences suited the environment at least.

Edric was already positioning the men when Jon found him, forming four squares of five hundred spearmen in each square. As Jon watched the men positioned themselves and their spears so that every angle of approach was covered by the spears of the first few rows and the javelins of the rows behind them. It was a solid defensive tactic and left the thousand or so riders free to harass the enemy until they dashed themselves against the spear tips of the Dornish.

"Ser Tristian, take your men and harry the incoming forces, if they be foe. If they be friend, ride back with all haste."

The knight saluted Edric as Lord Dayne before mounting, half of the mounted men following in his wake. They would make a good harrying force if they the approaching forces were the enemy but wasn't a large enough force to be offensive or hostile towards approaching friendly forces. Jon stopped beside Edric, who was currently glaring at the dust cloud of the horizon that was quickly growing bigger, signalling that the host was getting much closer.

"The castle received no raven to say that Blackhaven had fallen." Edric declared before admitting, "On saying that, I doubt this place is really important enough to be one of the few ravens that would be sent by the maester there upon realising that the castle was lost. If, indeed, it has been lost."

That was the issue. There was literally no way of knowing what had happened so they were going to be forced to wait here until the host was within sight. Or at least until their banners were in sight. A quick glance told Jon that the Martell forces had adopted the same tactic as the Dayne's men, the spearmen forming a square and the riders at the ready to harry and push the enemy against the spears.

Seemed it was a Dornish thing, not just a Dayne thing.

"Good defensive line." he admitted to Edric, neither of them looking away from the horizon, "How big a force do you think?"

It was always guesswork when you were checking how big a force was by the dust cloud but it was something that men tended to do when they were waiting for the force to arrive. It cut down on nerves when they were just stood around waiting.

"Dust cloud that big? I don't know…" he shrugged a little bit, "I'd say it was the wrong side of ten thousand to be honest. And then I'd hope that I was wrong."

Yes, there was indeed a 'wrong side' of ten thousand men - any side that meant the enemy had more than ten thousand men honestly. Between the Martell forces and the Dayne forces, there'd still be a gap of six thousand men between their own forces and the enemy forces if they came at them with ten thousand men. To be honest, Jon would join Edric in muttering a quick prayer if they found themselves arrayed against an enemy force that benefited from such a large numeric advantage.

The silence stretched as the dust cloud grew in size with it proximity. Jon gripped the hilt of Red Rain tightly as he glared at the horizon, knowing that Edric was currently checking the lines to make sure the men were still ready for battle despite the waiting. Somewhere to the right flank of the assembled forces, the Martell forces, a song about a maiden, a snake and wet sand was being sung. He didn't doubt that was likely the results of Oberyn's presence within their ranks.

It was a decent enough method of keeping morale up.

Despite the attempts to keep the men calm, Jon knew that they would all be shifting slightly in their nervous behaviour. That was fine - it was expected. All that they could do was hold strong right up until one of the banners was revealed to them. The dust cloud was high now and some of the approaching forces could now be seen in the distance. It was a rather loose formation of both riders and footmen.

Now fighting demoralised and routing enemies was easy and normally would be met with cheers. But the first of the banners could just be made out now even across the distance. There weren't many houses with a black animal of a yellow background and the red banner flying next to it? No one within the amassed Dornish forces was going to be able to mistake that shade of red, with a slither of gold, for anything but a Lannister banner.

And all Jon could think right then? Shit. The Lannister banner may well be flying alongside the royal banner of House Baratheon but tell that to Prince Oberyn, who was yelling at his forces to hold their positioning. Almost like he didn't believe that forces riding under a Lannister banner, riding towards the Dornish border no less, could actually be allied forces. Although Edric was ordering the same… Curious, Jon rushed to where Oberyn was marching on over to Edric. He got there just in time to hear the end of a rather colour list of curses coming from Oberyn.

"Prince Oberyn, one of my riders returned after meeting with Ser Jaime Lannister." he confirmed in a stern voice, the tone he'd used to deal with unruly squires back in the Order, "He sent the rest of my riders onto harry the forces that routed Ser Jaime's men. It was a good command."

Oberyn growled, apparently blinded to the reasonable nature of the statement and the command because it had come from a Lannister,

"Do you not see Edric?" he countered, "The Lannister cub tries to usurp the command of your men from yourself! He ordered your riders when it was not his place to do so and his defeat leads the enemy right to our feet."

Jon knew immediately the Prince Oberyn had lost the argument. Edric was angry now at the improper address and the insinuation that someone like Jaime Lannister would be able to usurp the command he had over the Dayne men,

"Prince Oberyn, you will address me by the title I hold, as I address you." he replied swiftly, "Besides that, the command that Ser Jaime gave my men was sound. If I had been there myself I would have given the same command - my men will harry the enemy enough for the remains of Ser Jaime's host to make it to us and give us enough time to integrate them into our defensive position - do you disagree that this will put us in a better prepared position to face the Golden Company?"

Oh shit indeed… the Golden Company had routed a host lead by Kingsguard member Jaime Lannister and was chasing them this way. Oberyn looked annoyed but he was rapidly bringing his explosive anger back under control. It was still very visible though - it likely still would be when he was going to be in close proximity to a Lannister.

"It is a better position." he agreed with much reluctance before giving Edric an amused look before glancing at Jon, "You've trained your former squire rather well White Wolf. His bark is almost as loud as that of a wolf himself."

With a light smirk and a joking wink, Oberyn left to ready his own men to reposition to allow for the routed royal ghost to integrate with their forces. Even now the riders of the Lannister knight's host were approaching. Ser Jaime himself, his golden armour caked in mud and blood, trotted over on his horse, dismounting with much less grace than one would expected from a knight of his calibre. Taking pity on the knight, Jon passed the man his water canteen, which the Lannister knight took with a grateful expression that seemed rather strange on his face considering Jon had only ever seen him with a smug expression firmly attached. Then again, the knight did look absolutely exhausted, even though none of the blood seemed to be his own.

"My thanks Ser Jon…" his voice hoarse and tired as he turned to Edric, taking in Dawn's hilt with a slight widening of his eyes, "Well it's not such a bad day then after all… I get to see the new Sword of the Morning in action."

The Lannister chuckled a little to himself but no one else spoke as more of the thoroughly defeated forces moved to stand behind the fresh Dornish spearmen defensive lines,

"But still mostly a shit day." he admitted with a grimace, "The Golden Company have been sitting on the side lines for most of the invasion but that white haired sadist came over the water and has taken them for a walk it seems."

Sadist? Aegon was acting sadist enough on the field of battle for it to be remarked upon as overly vicious to the point of sadism? Maybe that was why Varys was pushing for the boy to be destroyed - if he was someone who had no control then he was someone that Varys would want done away with. Jon was under no delusions - the only reason Varys helped him was because he was predictable and easier to manipulate. Thankfully Varys focused on manipulating by way of giving his people what they wanted, not by threatening their destruction or the like.

Worked out better that way.

"The Golden Company is bad news enough but sadist? Why would you say that?" Jon asked, wanting to know more about Aegon Targaryen. Or the fake. Whichever he actually was in the end. Jaime grimaced,

"He captured our outriders and when we were preparing our line against his forces he tortured out outriders just out of arrow range." he grimaced, "Then he burned them alive. Kept saying something about how I'd 'woken the dragon'. I… I think he's targeting my host in particular because I'm the one leading it. Otherwise it wasn't anything too impressive, a few thousand men from the crownlands to reinforce the existing Stormlands forces in the area. But he really has it in for me it seems…"

Edric and Jon shared a look for a moment as they assessed both Jaime Lannister himself and the remains of the host he had led. There were no more Crownlanders trickling into their lines now, the numbers peaking around a hundred or so. Which meant they wouldn't be able to count on those men for much, even if they weren't just as tired as their commander. Edric swore as he remembered something,

"The outriders we sent out aren't going to be coming back are they?"

Jaime looked at Edric with a sad version of his usual expression,

"They'll be coming back but don't be surprised if you find out what burning human smells like today."