Chapter 22

~Tyrion Lannister~

Their guide was clearly not a noble, despite the quality of her outfit. Tyrion doubted she was even the daughter of a landed knight, or whatever the Northern equivalent was. She talked like Tysha. Not the accent, in that regard Arya sounded like a Northerner, but other little things, how she'd briefly hesitate before long words or the lack of decorum in her speech.

Is this really how smallfolk talk to each other when nobles aren't around? Tyrion wondered as he listened to Arya and Tysha speak.

That had been the latest in the long time of weird moments he'd had in the past several days. Arya hadn't realized Tyrion was a noble, didn't even recognize the name Lannister. All she knew was that the pair had been rescued on orders from Lord von Carstein and because of that had apparently assumed they were smallfolk like her.

Or maybe she noticed Tysha's speech patterns and that's why she reached that conclusion? I've barely spoken to her since we began the tour.

"And that room is where the moonshine is stored," Arya said. "I've only been in there when I'm with Lady Lyanna. Not a lot of people are allowed in after we lost a bunch of the stuff in a fire."

That explains the guard standing there.

"Moonshine?" Tysha asked.

"That's the name for Lord von Carstein's special drink. I had some on my nameday, don't taste that good but it'll fix whatever ails ya. Keep you warm too."

I'll have to try it for that reason alone. Winter is over, it's spring, how is it so cold here?

"The moonshine brought in a lot of coin," Arya continued. "Don't know how much cus I don't know my sums but I remember Lord von Carstein saying that the moonshine was paying for all the projects he has Maester Garth working on. And the maester is working on a lot of different things so that must be a lot, right?"

"Tyrion is good with sums, he'd know," Tysha said.

The two women turned to him.

"I'd have to see the bookkeeping," he said, suddenly put on the spot. "But uh, yes, that sounds like a lot."

Arya nodded firmly, as if Tyrion's hamfisted agreement confirmed some great mystery to her. "Ain't no better lord than von Carstein. Saved me and my ma from wildlings, he did. If he's got Maester Garth working on stuff, it must be important. And everyone knows important stuff costs coin."

"Wildlings?" Tysha asked.

Arya launched into the story. Tyrion listened intently as they continued walking through the Dreadfort. His father kept the Westerlands orderly and safe (the situation with Tysha was of course an unusual one off occurrence) and Tyrion was concerned not only that invaders could sneak into the North to kidnap women whenever they felt like it but that the Wall and the Night Watch, whose sole purpose was to safeguard the realm against everything past it, were failing.

That would help explain why von Carstein's smallfolk love him so much, if he's the first lord to provide them with safety and security.

It was a queer thing to experince. Growing up in Casterly Rock, Tyrion had interacted with hundreds of smallfolk. All of them spoke highly of his father, Tywin Lannister, Warden of the West. Tywin was revered, Tywin was respected, Tywin was feared. But Tywin wasn't loved.

When he and Tysha had first met Arya in the courtyard of the Dreadfort to start the tour, the first place she had taken them was the smithy. One of the apprentices was a boy three years younger than Tyrion by the name of Ron. The boy's sister had been murderer by their father. Despite the killer getting his head chopped off the town had been so outraged that the whole family was in danger so von Carstein had offered them protection at the Dreadfort. Lord von Carstein's generosity continued to be a common thread throughout the tour.

One of the stablehands, a young man named Roose, had been attacked by Lyanna Stark prior to von Carstein's arrival for reasons that Tyrion wasn't exactly clear on. Not only had the new lord publicly apologized and made Lyanna do the same, he had paid Roose and his grandfather for their trouble.

Quite a number of the smallfolk living in the Dreadfort had come from Winterfell when von Carstein first took over the castle. After a year, he had paid to relocate the families that had been left behind at Winterfell as well as paying for extra wagons so that no belongings would be left behind.

When they had stopped at the kitchens Tyrion learned of Carstein Syrup and, while the creation process was tightly controlled, Lord von Carstein didn't mind it being used in food for smallfolk, so long as a certain amount was always available in the kitchens.

And now Arya's tale of how Lord von Carstein personally patrolled his lands to stop wildlings.

"What did he do with them?" Tysha asked when Arya finished speaking.

"Still down in the dungeons. Now sure why they ain't dead yet but not my place to question it. But the next thing I should show- oh, Lyanna!"

Coming around the corner up ahead was a woman that looked a few years older than Tyrion. She was beautiful (though not as beautiful as Tysha in Tyrion's opinion) but had an air of wildness about her.

"These are the guests Gerold brought in?"

Arya gave a curtsey that was so bad Tyrion almost choked just watching it. "They are. This is Tysha and Tyrion - um, sorry I forgot your house name. But this Lady Lyanna Stark, I'm her lady-in-waiting!" Arya stopped as if suddenly remembering something. "That's why I don't have to use her title, but you two probably should."

My father would have her whipped and banished from his lands for that introduction. I don't think I could do a worse one if I tried.

"Lannister," Tyrion supplied. "I am Tyrion Lannister, son of Tywin Lannister. This is my wife, Lady Tysha."

Lyanna raised a single eyebrow. "A pleasure to meet you both. Arya, why don't you continue what you were doing with Tysha? I have things to discuss with Tyrion."

Arya gave another horrendous curtsey and grabbed Tysha's arm, dragging his wife off while chattering about some room with a wall of singing fish. It was only once Arya's voice could no longer be heard that Lyanna looked down at Tyrion.

"She means well but unless she's told someone is an important noble she never remembers how to act."

"So why is she still in your employ?"

"Not a lot of need for courtly manners and such up here so I'd rather have a lady-in-waiting that I enjoy being around that only occasionally needs a reminder about her behavior instead of one I can't stand despite her knowing all the latest colors ladies are wearing or whatever."

Tyrion scratched at his cheek absentmindedly. "I suppose I can see your point."

"Arya's behavior wasn't why I sought you out however."

"Ah, of course. What did you wish to talk about?"

She motioned for Tyrion to follow as she began walking. "You've been here almost a full day now. Had a chance to eat, bathe, rest, gather your thoughts. What do you think about, well anything that's happened to you so far?"

"When I was younger, I dreamed of owning a dragon, even asked for one as a name day present. I cried when my uncles told me they were all gone. Sometimes I'd imagine that I'd find the last one, hidden away in a cave or something, or that I'd buy an egg and manage to hatch it." Tyrion paused as he looked up at Lyanna. "Just when I finally started to accept that dragons really were dead and that I'd never ride one, Ser Gerold showed up and turned half of that belief upside down. I'm questioning a lot of what I used to believe now."

"Aye, the world is a much different place than I used to think. The longer I stay at the Dreadfort the less I find myself minding that though."

The two fell into silence as they walked.

Tyrion grinned as a thought came to him. "Was fun to fly though."

Lyanna grinned back at him. "It really is. Regardless of how things turn out with you I'm glad to have Soves back. Means I can finally go flying again."

"You've flown before?"

"In Dorne, it was how Torrhen rescued me."

Tyrion's mind became a flutter as he started thinking about the time frame involved. True, he had come to the conclusion yesterday that von Carstein had rescued the royal family from King's Landing by flying away, something the lord had confirmed, but for the man to then hide away such a powerful weapon under the waves of the Sunset Sea was just so incomprehensible that, well, Tyrion couldn't comprehend the reasoning behind it.

It's like Jaime's stories about the Mad King. I've been kidnapped by a lunatic.

"Wait wait, he's actually had the dragon since the Rebellion?"

Lyanna nodded. "Sent Soves and Gerold to the Westerlands to find you and your wife, right before I gave birth."

"You're telling me that he's had a dragon, an actual flying dragon, dead yes but still a dragon, and it's just been sitting in the ocean for three years while Gerold waited around for me?"

"That is what I'm telling you."

"That doesn't make any gods be damned sense!" Tyrion said curtly. "Aegon the Conqueror and his sister-wives united the Seven Kingdoms with THREE living dragons. The lord of the Dreadfort has control of ONE dead dragon and presumably the ability to make more if all the dead walking around outside are any indication. So why hasn't he done anything?"

Lyanna was calm as she responded, "Let me explain my interest in you, Tyrion Lannister. Torrhen does not desire political power, considering it a secondary concern to advancing his magical power. He is largely content to sit in the Dreadfort and study tomes and experiment. Between my rescue and his actions in King's Landing, both House Stark and House Martell are in his debt. You are the son of a Lord Paramount, brother of the Queen, an important person I do not deny but, forgive me for saying it, Torrhen does not need you or the resources of your house. So I ask, what could his interest actually be?"

So his own subjects are just as clueless about the reasoning behind his actions as I am. Tyrion ran a hand across his face as he contemplated his options. He could tell Lady Stark the truth, that he had no idea why he was kidnapped and ask her for assistance. But he didn't know where her loyalties lay or what she would do with that information. That they don't know means I have some leverage, they won't act against me or Tysha until they learn the truth. Can't risk angering their liege lord.

Although. . . Lyanna is the sister to the Warden of the North, she's important, not someone that can just be hidden away if she misbehaves. And she has access to rookery

. While Tyrion and Tysha had met the maester of the Dreadfort, Garth had given no indication that he would assist the dwarf in sending a message out. Tyrion had debated feeling the man out for a bribe, but maesters were stuck to the keeps they were assigned so the money required for assistance would likely be disproportionately high. Jaime told me that Lyanna regularly exchanged messages with the king, if I can convince her to say something I'll be saved.

Which brought Tyrion back around to the same problem as before. He didn't know what to say to Lyanna to get her on his side. Honesty? Bribery? Threats of what his father would do?

I'll just have to tread carefully through this conversation until I know more.

"Lord von Carstein said his initial plan was to hire me as a steward, though my age might impact that decision. He seemed to believe I was older than I am."

Lyanna's lips were pursed as she thought on his words. Eventually, she spoke, "Torrhen could be as smart as Lann the Clever if he wasn't a lackwit half the time. I fully believe he would send Soves and Gerold away for years just to get a really good steward. I'm still curious how he settled on you specifically though."

"I would assume through my brother, Jaime."

"The Kingsguard, right. The two do write each other." Lyanna brought a finger to her chin. "Wait, no. That doesn't fit, Torrhen sent them away while we were still in Dorne. He hadn't met your brother yet."

Damnation.

"Perhaps it was the same way he knew about my marriage?" Tyrion suggested. "Although I don't actually know how he learned of that."

"I have witnessed Torrhen summon spirits for the sole purpose of asking them both insightful and inane questions. It is possible he learned about you from questioning the dead during his trek across Westeros."

She does not look convinced of that.

Deciding to take a chance, Tyrion said, "Forgive me if my next words are uncouth, my lady. But what is your relationship with the Lord of the Dreadfort? Is there some reason you haven't asked him all this and are instead treating with me?"

She stopped so suddenly Tyrion walked a couple paces past her before he realized it.

"I'm sure you've heard the rumors," she said flatly.

Tyrion made sure to keep his face neutral as he lied, "Can't say that I have. I'll tell it true, I was rather isolated in Casterly Rock, spent a lot of time in the library."

Please believe me, please believe me, please believe me.

"Others take us all," Lyanna said. "We're just going to cut to the heart of it and ask him."

"We?" Tyrion asked.

"Yes, we. I haven't been forced to insert myself into Torrhen's way of ruling in over a year but having the heir of Casterly Rock in the Dreadfort will create problems for us all unless this is properly dealt with. Does your father even know you're here?"

"Houses are not typically informed right away when you kidnap a member of them, no," Tyrion snarked before he could stop himself.

Lyanna moved forward and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, lifting Tyrion up off the floor until he was of height with her. When Tyrion met her red eyes he didn't feel like a lion, he felt like a rabbit caught by a wolf. Seven hells, she's a lot stronger than she looks.

"What was that?" she hissed.

~Oberyn Martell~

He sat beside his brother in the Water Gardens, watching various children play in the pools. For once, none of the children were his own. Obara, at five and ten, considered herself too old for such activities and had taken to spending a lot of time in the sparring yard at Sunspear. Sarella and Nymeria were back at Sunspear, the former because she and Rhaenys had decided to explore and map the entire Old Palace and the latter had wanted to stay with Ellaria given how far along Oberyn's paramour was in the pregnancy. Oberyn himself had wanted to stay as well, it was Ellaria's first child and she was nervous about the ordeal, but Doran had needed to talk to him about an important issue.

I'm sure Arianne and Tyene would happily be here, playing in the water, if they weren't feeling so miserable.

Arianne had stolen a flagon of wine at supper the previous night, something Doran hadn't noticed but Oberyn had. He had contemplated outing his niece but decided letting the ten year old deal with the effects of a hangover would be a better learning experience. In retrospect, it shouldn't have been a surprise that Arianne had shared the wine with Tyene but when he had walked by his daughter's room this morning and heard her moaning, he had been concerned. Said concern had disappeared like spilt water droplets on Dorne's dunes once he realized what had happened. So now both girls were learning a valuable lesson about what overindulgence felt like. That way, in the future, if they decided to drink too much they would do so completely aware of the outcome.

Oberyn was fully in favor of living life to the fullest and engaging in as many fun activities as possible, but that didn't mean he didn't think things through before engaging in such behavior either. He just usually considered the enjoyment of whatever he was about to do to be worth whatever problems it would bring. Arianne and Tyene might weigh the consequences heavier than he did.

"We were spoiled with Elia," Doran said, breaking Oberyn from his thoughts.

Oberyn put a hand to his chest dramatically. "Of course she spoiled me growing up, I was adorable. But I feel like that's not what you meant?"

"Her marriage," Doran explained, ignoring Oberyn's behavior. "Being part of the royal family, even if it was under a king that hated her for her heritage, granted Elia considerable sway at court that benefited all of Dorne. The former Lady Blackmont certainly hasn't hurt Dorne but most of her efforts seem to be focused on elevating her house and her house alone."

"Surely you exaggerate brother?"

"For a period of one year, any Dornish wine, fruit, and spices brought into King's Landing are having their import fees waived entirely. But only if they came from Blackmont lands. And that's just the most recent example."

Oberyn's brow furrowed. "You can hardly blame her for looking out for her family first."

"I'm not blaming her," Doran said, his voice calm. "I'm simply voicing my observation of one of her actions."

That's horseshit. "And what will House Martell do as a result of your observations?"

"Nothing." At Oberyn's incredulous stare Doran continued, "She has not pitted any of our houses against one another, doesn't seek to supplant our house, and has been quite successful in getting her husband to work alongside our navy rather than around it."

"So why bring it up?"

"While she has not intentionally created strife, the crown's favoritism of her house has been noticed. Jealousy is a seed that needs little water to grow once it has taken root."

Oberyn ran a hand across his face. "I'm confused. If our bannermen are unhappy, why are we just doing nothing? Letting their jealousy fester and grow?"

"To be more accurate, House Martell won't do anything that we weren't already going to do. We will just be more blatant about it."

He dances around the subject like a maiden dances around an unwanted suitor. "Just tell me what you want me to do."

"I told you after Torrhen attacked you on the boat that as a concession for his actions he agreed to take an apprentice of my choosing. I've decided on Tyene. You will escort her to the Dreadfort so she can learn magic."

"You - that." Oberyn stopped to try and get his thoughts in order. "Brother, you are my prince. You know I will obey you. But this is my daughter. You want me to send her across the whole of the Seven Kingdoms, where she shall remain for years."

"Yes," was the simple response he received.

"You know how close Tyene is to Arianne, they will both be heartbroken to be separated."

"They will," Doran agreed.

"But you choose Tyene anyway, knowing that?"

"I did."

Oberyn could only sigh. "It is times like this when I'm glad you're the eldest. I wouldn't be able to make the decisions necessary to properly rule Dorne."

His brother gave a silent nod.

A thought occurred. "Wait, while I can understand wanting access to Torrhen's magic, how does this counter the houses that may target House Blackmont?"

"It refocuses their attention," Doran explained. "When I paid to ship all those men and supplies to the Wall, tongues wagged, and not just in Dorne."

"While I'm sure fostering my bastard daughter with such a recent house of the North will draw some notice, I'm not sure it will be important enough to overshadow Larra's actions."

"True. Which is why I'm also sending Arianne and Mellario with you."

If Oberyn had been drinking something he would have choked on it. "What?"

"Torrhen is still unmarried. If everyone believes I am attempting to betroth my heir to such a recent house of the North, that will be important enough to overshadow Larra's actions. 'What does the Prince know that we do not?' they will ask. They will be united in their confusion and turn their attention towards the Dreadfort and away from Blackmont."

"They could just assume you are looking to get rid of Arianne in favor of Quentyn."

"If I had not already sent so much to the Wall, yes. But clearly I have an interest in the North."

"What if they think you're just looking to reward the man that saved members of our family?" Oberyn asked, not quite willing to concede the discussion yet.

Doran gave him a very satisfied smirk. "We already did that, didn't you know? Paid him Elia and Rhaenys' weight in silver."

"Should have been their weight in gold,' Oberyn said automatically. "Though. . . when did we do that?"

"Before Torrhen even took control of the Dreadfort."

"Really?" Oberyn didn't bother trying to disguise the disbelief in his voice.

"A boat was chartered from Sunspear to White Harbor. Its passengers were two armored men, one incredibly large, a coffin that they were quite protective of, and a box none of the crew were allowed to know the contents of. The captain was quite annoyed with the pair and made specific notation of them and their cargo in his documentation. This past year the boat was waylaid and commandeered by pirates. Turns out, because the Royal Navy was in the area they were able to recapture the ship before it even made port. They made sure to search the ship quite thoroughly lest there be contraband that they might miss. They found the former captain's book."

Oberyn had to cast his mind back, the story sounded familiar. Wait. "Wasn't that-"

"True?" Doran interrupted. "The best lies often have a core of truth in them."

"Very well, you've clearly thought this out. When do we leave and how long will we be staying?"

"Within a week, the boat is being prepared in Sunspear as we speak. You must stay at the Dreadfort for at least two months, that will give the appearance that my wife was dedicated in trying to negotiate the betrothal but that she ultimately couldn't accomplish it for whatever reason. That's about how long it took Larra to convince Stannis, as I recall."

"I'm surprised you got Mellario to agree to this. She's never fully adjusted to how things are done in Westeros." At Doran's grimace Oberyn quickly continued, "You did discuss this with her beforehand, didn't you? Tell me you did."

"Yes! She already knows what is required of her. It. . . it wasn't easy to convince her, especially since she never did get over her fear of Torrhen. But she'll do it."

"How did you manage that?" Oberyn asked in genuine curiosity.

"I spent a lot of time on my knees and before you even start to smile, it wasn't like that."

"So you mean. . . what?"

"I had to prostrate myself in front of Mellario and beg her to do this, explaining multiple times while it was necessary while answering all of her questions."

Oberyn was unable to contain his chuckle. "Every man needs a good humbling at least once in his life."

Doran gave a slight frown and kicked his legs up and down in the chair. "Truthfully, the worst part of that ordeal was that it took an entire evening to convince her. That's a long time to spend kneeling, my legs still ache."

"You're complaining of a little pain and not that you had to beg your wife for something?"

"The Prince of Dorne cannot allow pride to dictate his decisions, so yes I'm complaining that my legs hurt."

Oberyn sighed. "Again, I am glad you're the eldest and not me. I will never get tired of saying that."

"I don't know," Doran said in a teasing tone. "It would be interesting watching you shield me from the consequences of my own actions instead of the other way around."

"Please brother, even if you weren't the Prince of Dorne you'd still be painfully responsible. What would I have to shield you from?"

"I'm sure I could get into some trouble if I wanted to."

"I don't think I believe you."

Doran snorted in amusement. "I was serious about you leaving within the week. You should go inform your daughter of the news. I'll tell Arianne myself."

"It might be best to let them sleep."

"A servant informed me of the missing wine last night and another of how the girls acted when they awoke. It wasn't difficult to piece together what happened," Doran said as he stood. "Life does not stop just because they overdrank."

"As you say." Oberyn stood up as well and followed his brother inside. The pair parted in the hallways as each made their way to their daughter's rooms.

Should I ease her into this or get it over with? Well, if she's old enough to get drunk she's old for me to not coddle her quite so much. Oberyn shoved the door open with a bang and loudly proclaimed, "Tyene, the sun has almost reached its zenith in the sky and you still lay in bed!"

His daughter gave a pitiful moan, her face buried in a pillow. "Fa - father, please-"

"Please WHAT?! I'm sorry I can't quite hear you like that. You'll have to look at me when you're speaking."

Oberyn kept his face blank as Tyene slowly turned her head towards him, the rest of her body not moving. "Father, please not so loud. My head. It hurts."

Squatting down next to the bed so that he was level with Tyene, Oberyn's next words were said in a much softer tone, "That is what happens when you drink more wine than your body can handle. And you're only ten, your body isn't very big yet. You should have limited yourself to a single cup."

"I will. . . ugh, I will remember that. You have my word, Father."

"Good. Now, move over. We have a lot to talk about."

His daughter moaned but dutifully began the process of inching her body towards the opposite side of the bed. After nearly two minutes she had moved enough for Oberyn to sit down.

"Tyene," he said, his voice serious. "We really do have a lot to talk about, so please do pay attention. I know you aren't feeling well but this is important."

The amount of time it took her to roll over so that she was looking at him was somewhat worrying. Maybe she's sicker than I thought. I'll have Caleotte take a look at her later.

"You know that I love you, right?" Oberyn asked as he stroked his daughter's hair. "I've made sure to raise you and your sisters as best I'm able. I've strived to make sure you all have as much independence as any of you desire."

She nodded against his hand. "Yes, Father."

"As a Sand, you have far more freedom than your cousins. You do not bear the same expectations that they do, natural born children rarely do. But that does not mean you have no responsibilities to your family."

His daughter gave him a quizzical look.

"Your uncle has arranged a fostering for you. This is an opportunity that you cannot pass up, that you mustn't refuse. Not just because of what it will do for House Martell, for all of Dorne, but because of what it will do for you."

"What do you mean?"

He didn't immediately respond, taking his time as he continued to run his fingers through her hair and against her scalp. They both seemed to enjoy the closeness. "I have never once cared about the fact that your mother and I weren't married, you are my daughter and that will never change. But the world is not so kind. Outside of Dorne bastards are only treated well if they are useful and even that can be a dice roll. But if this fostering goes well, you will have so much power you'll be able to demand respect and lords across the Seven Kingdoms will grant it."

"How?"

"Torrhen von Carstein has agreed to teach you magic."

If Tyene had been feeling better Oberyn was sure she would have shot up and wrapped him in a hug. As it was, he had to settle for the sharp intake of breath and the widening of her eyes. "The dragonrider?"

Oberyn was unsurprised that was what she focused on. Torrhen had refused to take anyone up in the air for joy rides when he and Soves had been in Sunspear so the only people in Dorne that knew what it was like to fly could be counted on one hand with fingers left over. Rhaenys had gotten quite a number of jealous glares thrown her way whenever the subject of flying had come up over the years.

"But as you know, Torrhen is lord of the Dreadfort, a hold in the North. He won't be coming down here to tutor you. You'll be going up to foster with him."

"Oh." She was silent for some time. "For how long?"

"The standard amount of time is until you're six and ten. After that you'll be a woman grown and will be free to return to Dorne. That being said, I don't know how long it will take you to master magic so you might need to stay longer."

"I'll be allowed to write though, right?" The amount of worry in his daughter's voice nearly broke his heart. She was so excited seconds ago, she really doesn't want to leave her home.

"Of course you will," Oberyn assured. "And not just to me. I'm sure Arianne will want to know all the gossip that goes on the Dreadfort and she'll have to keep you informed about what goes on here while you're gone."

"When. . . when am I leaving?"

"We will be leaving before the week is out. I'm not about to send you within spitting distance of the Wall all by yourself. Arianne and Mellario will be joining us. We shall stay for a few months while you get adjusted to living in the Dreadfort before returning home."

"Really?"

"I swear it." Oberyn leaned down and kissed Tyene's temple. "Now go back to sleep. I'll have Maester Caleotte stop by later with some food and water."

I don't want to see her go but I can admit we need this. With Torrhen in the North we need some way to strike at the Lannisters. We still owe them for Aegon. And it really will increase the options available for Tyene.