While the Westerlands were well known across Westeros as the richest kingdom due to their extensive gold mines, Dorne had never been very far behind. The great Queen Nymeria had made a wise decision in settling her people in the far south of the continent, as although the climate made it difficult to grow enough crops to feed the entirety of their people, it was perfect to cultivate a multitude of luxury items that were difficult to find anywhere else and therefore ensured the wealth of their kingdom through trade. Cocoa beans, bananas, silks, figs, wine and spices ensured that the Dornish were never left wanting, and as such, though the Dornish had never had a war fleet since Nymeria had burned hers a thousand years ago, every harbour of the kingdom was filled to the brim with trading and merchant vessels.
Their trade had increased even more since the Baratheon King and his lioness wife had taken the throne, and it was well known across the entire realm how fond he was of drink and she was of silk. Only the best was acceptable for the Royal Family and at the rate they were buying, Doran wouldn't be surprised if Queen Cersei only wore a dress once before throwing it away or if King Robert drank himself to death before Dorne and the North were ready for a Restoration. But the gold flowed in and Dorne was all the better for it.
It was this wealth that allowed Prince Oberyn to ensure the safety of the two exiled Targaryen children. He had been sending monthly reports back and Doran had to say he was quite pleased with his success, but now the Prince was finally coming home, after two long years of absence.
Doran waited patiently at the docks while the ship transporting his brother slowly approached, sitting in his new wheelchair as a servant held a parasol over his head to protect from the sun. His gout had unfortunately gotten much worse over the past couple of years, and although he could still walk small distances, the chair allowed a refreshing break from the pain. It would continue to get worse, he knew, but he hoped that he still had time to watch as his family got their due from the Lannisters once Jaehaerys was a man grown. The lions weren't the only ones who payed their debts, Doran thought, and he would ensure they paid theirs in blood, along with that stag King who reports said was getting fatter and fatter by the day.
After what seemed like an eternity, Oberyn's ship finally docked and the gangplank was lowered, allowing the Prince to come to shore. He spotted his older brother within seconds and immediately began making his way over, ignoring the others that were disembarking behind him.
"Brother!" the young Prince greeted as he approached. The two embraced affectionately and kissed each other's cheeks before Oberyn leant back and shot a concerned look at the chair.
"It is nothing, brother, my gout is simply getting worse as we predicted." Doran answered the unspoken question.
His eyes turned back to the ship as more and more people disembarked, raising an eyebrow as a dozen horses were led across the gangplank, followed by twenty or so men wearing leather armour and carrying spears as they marched in pairs.
"I'll explain when we get inside." Oberyn explained with a smirk.
With a nod, Doran turned and began to lead the way back to the palace, alternating between rolling his chair with the strength of his arms and allowing his brother to push him. The path from the docks to the palace took almost an hour on foot, and once again Doran wished that he didn't have this damned gout that prevented him from riding. Nevertheless, they did get there eventually and servants were called to run a bath for Oberyn and to bring refreshments to the Prince's solar.
Occupying himself with various letters and reports, Doran waited for another hour before a knock on his door sounded and the guard outside announced the arrival of his brother. Pushing the papers to the side with a sigh of relief, Doran called for his brother to enter.
"Well? How did it go?"
"Allow me to pour myself a cup of wine before you interrogate me brother." Oberyn chuckled, reaching for the pitcher. "It went well. As you know I found them quite easily, which is concerning given the stag King's desire to kill them, but they were well guarded. The harder part was convincing Darry that we had to move the children. He changed his mind when an assassin managed to get into the Princess' room during the night. The scoundrel would have succeeded in killing her if she hadn't woken the entire house with her crying. She's a loud one, I tell you."
"The callousness of that man never ceases to amaze me." Doran replied and the younger man inclined his head in agreement.
"I bought a manse in Qohor and we moved last year."
"What are they like?"
Oberyn leaned back in his chair and took a moment to think. "Daenerys as I said is loud, but she is a sweet child. She smiles more often than not and seems to enjoy babbling nonsense to anyone who will listen despite knowing how to talk. Viserys... is also sweet and full of life. He enjoys playing games with the servants and chasing cats around the manse. He is, however, prone to massive temper tantrums. More than once I have had to put that boy over my knee."
The brothers both pursed their lips in disapproval, a movement they had learned from their mother, but it was known that children could be difficult and proper discipline was important.
"And how did everyone react to the knowledge that there is another Targaryen?"
"Well of course I couldn't say much, it is best that we keep Jaehaerys' location a secret, but they were overjoyed. Viserys, especially, was happy to know that he had more family out there, even if that meant that he was no longer the rightful ruler."
"Good." Doran nodded and picked at the figs on the platter. "And what of the unexpected cargo you brought with you?"
A chuckle sounded as Oberyn crossed his legs and poured himself another cup of wine, prolonging the suspense. "The horses are from Qohor." he began. "Strong warhorses that they use in their theatre events. I thought that mixed with our sand steeds, our cavalry would be unbeatable. The soldiers are a small portion of the Unsullied I bought as protection for the Prince and Princess before I left."
"Slaves?" The older brother gasped.
"No, at least not anymore. I bought 100 of them and freed them once they were mine. Most remain in Essos but I brought 20 back with me to train our future army. The Unsullied are well known for being undefeatable, even the Dothraki hesitate to engage them."
That was enough to reassure the ruling Prince and he relaxed into his chair as the room descended into a comfortable silence. A servant entered quickly to replace the pitcher of iced wine with a fresh batch, bringing in strawberry milkshakes to replace the empty fruit platter.
"Is this the dessert that you wrote to me about? The milkshakes?" Oberyn asked as he eyed the thick mixture. Doran however was too busy slurping his own mug to answer and so with a snort, he brought it to his lips. "Nice. So what else has been going on here while I was away? Other than the milkshakes of course."
"Trade has been booming since the assent of the stag King to the throne." Doran responded after a moment. "It seems neither he nor his wife understand the concept of restraint and our coffers have practically doubled due to our sale of silks and wine. I had some people leak the recipe to the milkshakes a while ago and so the demand for chocolate and bananas has also risen, and I expect the Starks have received many offers for trade of their ice."
"So financially, all is well, but what of the military? And what of the Northern advancements Stark had planned?"
"I have instructed every House in Dorne to double their number of guards and master at arms, and weapons production has increased. I'm afraid due to our strained relationship with the throne, we must be subtle in our weapons training. We cannot raise an army without them suspecting us." he paused for a moment to purse his lips once more, less than satisfied at the scrutiny he knew Dorne was under. "The North, however, is fairing well. Your friends have helped immensely. A canal has been built across the Neck to join the Western and Eastern coasts and your architect friend has already begun working on rebuilding Moat Cailin, though it will not be complete for a good few years yet. Stark has also ordered the construction of new ships, war galleys that he told the king were to protect their trading ships considering their newfound wealth."
"And Robert suspects nothing?"
Doran scoffed. "Of course not. Stark is his best friend as far as the King is concerned, he didn't even bat an eyelid when he seemingly forgot to visit Kings Landing and give his oaths. The rest of the world is of the same mindset, and besides, the excuse is a plausible one. With the new demand of ice they will become the targets of pirates sooner or later."
Oberyn did not respond, instead leaning back into his chair and staring at his melting milkshake thoughtfully. Doran allowed him his silence while he added some ice chips to his glass of wine, knowing that though brash and easy to anger, his younger brother was perhaps just as smart and cunning as he was.
"Doran?" he finally said, lifting his eyes. "I think I have an idea."
The small room that held the council meeting in the Red Keep had greatly changed sine the days that Aerys had been King. Previously, the walls had been adorned with Targaryen banners, paintings of past Kings and tapestries depicting the great fiery slaughter that dragons had brought onto their enemies. Small dragon skulls had adorned the various shelves as decoration and the primary colour of any fabric in the room had been green, to remind everyone of the Mad King's love of wildfire. Now, the room was decked with black and gold, red cushions sat on the chairs around the table and the paintings had all been replaced to show the great history of the Baratheons. There was even one painting that showed Robert smashing his hammer into Prince Rhaegar at the Trident. The only thing that remained was the tapestries, though they now signified the brutality of the Targaryens of old rather than their glorious victories as it had previously.
Not everything had changed, however, Varys thought. The decorations may have been revamped to represent the current King better, but the happenings of the room were the same as always. The positions on the small council had not changed and even some of the members had remained the same, such as Grandmaester Pycelle and Varys himself. Of course, he was the best spymaster in the realm, so his continued appointment was no surprise, even if he had worked for the Targaryens at one point in his life.
The truth was Varys didn't actually care about the Targaryens, nor did he care about Robert Baratheon. He served the realm and that was why Aerys had had to go. Unfortunately, though no one risked getting burned alive by the King any time soon, the realm was still not better off under the new monarchs as they seemed to care more about themselves than those they ruled.
Regardless, Varys made his way to his seat at the small council table and waited for the last of the members to arrive. It seemed the Masters of Coin, Laws and Ships had beaten him there and were all huddled together to speak, most likely to share some juicy bit of gossip as these nobles were prone to do. The eunuch had no desire to join them, already knowing all the gossip there was and preferring to keep himself aloof to preserve the air of mystery he had cultivated. Finally, the door opened and the Hand of the King Jon Arryn arrived and stepped inside, followed by a shuffling Pycelle.
"Let's get started." Arryn intoned, ending all conversation in the room as all the members turned their attention to him. The grizzled man took a deep breath and Varys wondered for a moment how long he would survive in this role, as only after two years as Hand there were already visible signs of stress in his greying hair. "The King has ordered a tourney for the first name day of Prince Jasper, to be held in two months' time."
Immediately, the new Master of Coin opened his ledgers and perused the latest pages with a frown on his face.
"Well it is certainly possible, we have more than enough coin for now for a tourney, though I feel the need to point out that we are spending more than we are earning at the moment, my Lord Hand." Baelish pointed out, lifting his eyes from the book.
"Aye, I know." Arryn responded. "Unfortunately there's nothing we can do to curb expenses. I have already spoken to the King about it and he considers it our responsibility to find ways to ensure the treasury stays healthy."
"Has my brother made any... suggestions as to the rewards for the winners of the tourney?" Stannis asked, his lips pursed in disapproval. Varys didn't think there was anything that the man did approve of, though in this case it was more than justified. Aerys had been a terrible King, but at least he knew how to count coppers as Robert called it, and the treasury had been full when the Rebellion had ended. At this rate it would be empty in three years.
"He has." Lord Arryn sighed again. "20,000 gold dragons to the winner of the joust, 10,000 to the winner of the melee and 5,000 to each runner up."
There was a stunned silence in the room as each of the members took in the figure, and even Varys' mask of congeniality cracked for a moment. You could build an entire castle with 20,000 dragons! Was the man not aware that people died of starvation just a mile from the Red Keep? Of course he wasn't, he couldn't look further than the nearest cup of wine!
"Right, well... next order of business." The Hand continued awkwardly. "The last of the reparations to the city after the Sack have been completed and Kings Landing is whole again."
"About time." Stannis muttered.
"Well that will be one cost that we won't have to worry about in the future." Baelish commented and the conversation was slightly side tracked as each of the members congratulated and complimented each other, momentarily preening at the thought of a job well done. Varys wished they would drown.
"Lord Varys," Arryn called, silencing the chatter and once again bringing attention back to the meeting. "any news on the rumours of -"
At that moment, the doors to the council room slammed open, making everyone jump at the noise, to reveal a red faced King Robert. Poor Pycelle was clutching his heart an breathing deeply to calm his racing heart and even Varys had close his eyes for a moment to regain his composure.
"Your Grace, welcome! I -"
"What the fuck is this I hear about the damn Dornish building an army?" The King roared, stomping towards the council table and dropping himself into the empty chair that was always reserved for him, even though this was the first time he deigned to attend a meeting.
"I was just about to ask Varys if he had any new on that front, Robert." Arryn responded, a warning glare on his face that his former foster son completely ignored.
"Well, Varys? Answer the man!"
"Yes, Your Grace." He responded, bowing his head for a moment. "My little birds have told me that these new soldiers are not in fact part of an army, rather an organisation not unlike our own gold cloaks that patrol and police the city."
"A whole 5,000 men in just a few months just to patrol a city?"
"Not quite, my Lord Hand. This company will not just be patrolling a city but rather the entirety of Dorne. My little birds have reported that the number is currently at 5,000 men with another 10,000 still in training. After some investigation, it seems Dorne has been subject to numerous bandit and pirate attacks and as such they have created an armed force to patrol their lands and accompany their goods on trading voyages."
"So they will not be invading?" Arryn clarified.
"Indeed, nothing has pointed towards an attempt towards the Crown, my Lord Hand."
That wasn't entirely true. None of Varys' little birds had reported any concerning movement of this new army of the Dornish, but there had been plenty of suspicious movement involving Dorne. Prince Oberyn disappearing for two years to Essos and the Targaryen children across the sea disappearing from Braavos at the same time as he was visiting, as well as the shipment of Unsullied soldiers and war horses once he returned to Westeros. Additionally, if he didn't know any better - and of course he didn't know any better, after all what was as it seemed in this world? - it would be easy to believe that the suspicious behaviour of the Dornish had spread to the North!
If one disregarded the supposed close relationship between Robert and Ned Stark, they would believe that the Northerners and the Dornish were working together. The Starks had cut a river across the Neck, begun forging trade alliances left and right, started rebuilding Moat Cailin - perhaps the most impenetrable fortress in Westeros and it was right at the entrance of the North - and the Northern fleet! All thanks to a trade alliance that they had first set up with the Dornish before it spread to other kingdoms. And Varys was no fool, there may be no clear threat of invasion but the Martells wanted nothing more than to see Lannister blood on their blades and that row between Stark and the King after the murders of the Princess and her children was a thing of legends.
The number of ravens that had been travelling between the North and Dorne was immense, and what's worse is that only recently there had also been a few exchanges of letters between the North and the Reach as well. It couldn't be a coincidence that they were regularly conversing with the only two kingdoms that had fought on the Targaryen side during the Rebellion, however try as he might he had not managed to catch on of the ravens to the Reach as of yet, and all of those to and from Dorne had been written in the Old Tongue of the First Men, a language that Varys unfortunately did not know and could not find any books about.
Yes, it was clear to Varys that the two kingdoms the furthest away from each other were up to something, however the thought of the drunkard King and his vain wife was enough to make Varys hesitate in reporting his suspicions to the council. That, and the fact that there was one more secret that was being hidden by the plotters, one piece of the puzzle that Varys knew was missing but he had no clue as to what it could be. And if there was one thing that Varys hated, it was an incomplete puzzle.
"I still don't like it." Robert muttered. "They didn't even give their oaths and now they amass an army."
"Neither did the North, Your Grace."
Every head turned towards the silky voice of the Master of Coin who was not even trying to hide that gods awful smirk of his. The man's hatred of the Starks was well known to Varys, as one of them had gutted him from shoulder to hip and left him on the edge of death, and the other wedded and bedded the woman that Baelish had been fighting for in the first place.
"Who the fuck are you?" King Robert asked shortly.
"Lord Baelish, Your Grace, Master of Coin appointed last month."
"Baelish... Baelish..." The King frowned at the table as he tried to recall the name and Stannis and Arryn's lips thinned further and further in disapproval. "You that tax collector from Gulltown?"
"Indeed I am, Your Grace." The man responded, bowing his head in a way that to Varys clearly looked mocking but it seemed no one else had noticed.
"Right, well, the North doesn't need to give oaths." Robert dimly responded, slamming his fist on the table as if to bring the point home. "The North answers to Ned and Ned is my brother in all but blood, he would never dream of raising arms against me."
"Yes, Robert, we know that," Arryn responded. "but Baelish does have a point. The Martells aren't the only ones that haven't said their oaths, Ned and the Greyjoys haven't either. We cannot single out Dorne for not coming to bend the knee unless we do the same to the North and the Iron Islands. Varys, are you certain that they do not plan on using this army against us?"
"My little birds' reports were quite clear, my Lord Hand."
"Then we will let them be." Arryn commanded and though the King was the foremost authority in the room, he nodded his head after a few moments of hesitation and promptly stormed out in the same fashion that he had first stormed in.
Varys contained his chuckle as the group dispersed to attend to their own matters. He was excited to see what the North and Dorne would come up with.
Hello again everyone!
I hope you are enjoying the story and please feel free to leave reviews!
Just thought I would clarify, in the second part of this chapter I mention a Prince Jasper. This is the name I have given to the first born of Robert and Cercei, the one she mentions died as an infant to Catelyn when visiting Bran when he is injured.
Additionally, all of the inventions that I have mentioned so far (possibly excluding milkshake) are time appropriate, as irrigation was a thing in Ancient Egypt and China had already gotten canal construction down to a T during the 10th century. I place game of Thrones to be set in a time similar to the 14th century. I even wanted to add coffee beans as one of Dorne's luxury items but coffee didn't become a thing until like the 18th century. Pretty much the only thing that is chronologically inaccurate is the milkshakes but they are simple to make so I thought there was nothing to hold the Martells back from creating them now.
