In the Water Gardens' main apartments…

Daveth and his uncle Ser Jaime were being led into one of the many rooms in the Water Gardens' apartments by the Martell captain of the guard Areo Hotah. It was proving to be a long two days since their arrival in Dorne and the negotiations between the Iron Throne and the ruling House Martell of Dorne were set to begin at any moment. Both men were dressed in a long Dornish cotton tunic, gold robe with drawstring pants, and a gilded bronze leather wrap belt around the waist for the occasion. The Young Stag didn't look comfortable in this new attire, yet kept his mouth shut.

'Gold was never my color to begin with,' he referred to his clothes.

Jaime looked at his nephew. "Gold doesn't suit you," he pointed out.

Daveth rolled his eyes. "Manners, uncle. Remember we're guests in someone else's home."

"Be grateful that Prince Doran has agreed to hear you out," Areo said. "Had it been someone else like the Lannisters representing the crown, well… Let's just say that your family isn't well-liked in Dorne."

"I'm well aware of the lingering hostilities between House Martell and House Lannister," the Young Stag countered. "But I'm the one representing the crown, not any of my relatives."

"You'd worry that we might try something?"

"Both sides might suspect the other of duplicity. If I indeed wanted to try anything, then we will have accomplished nothing."

Areo turned to Jaime. "And what of you, Lannister?"

"Not the way I would've said it," he replied, "but that's one way of putting it."

The three men kept walking until they arrived at their destination; within the Martell court there was a display of a total amount of three couches and chairs, with Princes Doran and Oberyn Martell sitting or standing at the main sofa, Ellaria Sand sitting next to Oberyn, Ser Lucius Blackmyre and Ariyana Dayne standing guard at the side of a sofa across from Princess Myrcella and Prince Trystane.

"Prince Doran," Daveth acknowledged. "Oberyn."

"We're glad you could join us, brother," Myrcella greeted.

"Forgive us. We started without you," Doran said. "Please, sit."

Daveth sat down on the sofa across from Trystane and Myrcella; both Lucius and Ariyana nodded as Jaime looked at his 'niece.' The dress she was wearing bared more skin that the ones she originally wore back in King's Landing.

"Princess Myrcella," Jaime greeted.

Myrcella looked up at him. "Uncle."

"That's… a lovely dress."

"You don't like it?"

"You must be cold."

"Not at all," she shook her head. "The Dornish climate agrees with me."

"Take a seat, Ser Jaime," Daveth gestured to his uncle.

Jaime turned to his nephew, shaking his head as he sat next to him.

"Will the Wolf Queen be joining us?" Oberyn implored.

"Sansa will be here at any—"

On que, Queen Sansa Stark had arrived with Shae and Brella, each of them carried with them the royal twins Lyonel and Cassana. Sansa had just had her bath so her red hair looked a bit moist, indicating it was still in the middle of drying. She looked uncomfortable in her dress; a refined golden attire – soft fabric which showed more skin with light material unafraid to almost fall off the shoulders and two necklaces around her neck, she felt as if her skin was exposed than usual as she was a daughter of the North. Sansa was more used to the cold climate, not the heat. Myrcella looked up at Sansa and rose from her seat.

"Sister-in-law," she greeted, giving Sansa a warm hug.

Sansa returned the gesture. "It is good to see you again after so many years, Princess Myrcella. We missed you at court."

"I missed you all, as well," Myrcella looked at the twins and nearly lost it. "Oooh, my!" she squealed, barely able to contain her excitement. "A-are they…?"

"My son and daughter, Prince Lyonel and Princess Cassana Baratheon," Sansa confirmed.

"Why hello, little ones. It's me, your auntie 'Cella."

Myrcella poked the twins' cheeks; Lyonel and Cassana both giggled and patted their aunt's face. Sansa smiled at her children's act of affection with their paternal aunt. Jaime observed this, a rather blank expression on his face made visibly apparent.

"Perhaps we should get underway," Doran cleared his throat.

Myrcella and Sansa returned to their seat.

"Never thought we'd expect a Lannister to come to Dorne," Ellaria said, referring to Jaime. "Why follow the Young Stag here?"

Jaime sighed with exasperation. "I'm a member of the Kingsguard, assigned to protect the King himself—who as you know by now is my nephew," he pointed out. "Also, I preferred to look out for the safety of my niece, Princess Myrcella."

"Where His Grace goes, the Kingsguard follows suit," Ser Lucius explained.

"Ah yes, Ser Lucius the Bull of House Blackmyre," Doran noted, "the man whose strategies helped bring down Maelys the Monstrous and extinguished the Blackfyre bloodline on the Stepstones."

"It might've been one of my battle plans, but it was our sworn brother Ser Barristan the Bold himself who delivered the final blow," he corrected.

Oberyn looked at him. "I understand that you were also acquainted with our uncle in the Kingsguard, Prince Lewyn Martell."

Lucius nodded. "I did. One of the finest men I've ever met. I fought with him at the Battle of the Trident many years ago."

Doran turned to look at Daveth. "We understand you were also responsible for avenging him."

"And how is that?" he asked.

"Prince Lewyn was slain by Lyn Corbray, lad," the old Kingsguard explained, "but he was already wounded before the final duel."

Daveth raised an eyebrow. "I did not know that."

"Why would you? We mostly tend to keep such deep personal matters to ourselves," Doran explained. "Even so, we are somewhat pleased that our family has been… mostly avenged."

"Mostly?"

Doran, Oberyn and Ellaria exchanged glances before looking at the Young Stag. A servant arrives and sets down food and drink before the royal guests.

"Do you partake in wine?" the Red Viper asked.

Daveth shook his head. "I don't drink on a regular basis, if that's what you mean. Only on social occasions when protocol requires it. Too much tends to dull the senses; makes a man act rather foolish."

"That's the point."

"Ariyana tells me that she heard you mentioning that it would make you look and sound more like your father, the late King Robert Baratheon," Doran mentioned.

'Now that was a bit too personal.' The Young Stag set down his cup, turning his head to look at Ariyana. "Really?" he asked suspiciously. "What else did she tell you about me?"

Ariyana said nothing.

"Well? Something to say?"

Sansa looked at Ariyana. "Ariyana… what did you do?" she beseeched.

Ariyana sighed, apparently deciding to tell the truth. "Forgive me, Your Grace. But I've been sending letters to Sunspear long before I joined you, an important mission I was told."

"What was the content of those letters?" Daveth asked, frowning disappointingly.

"Information."

"Information about what?"

Doran and Oberyn exchanged glances, nodding at each other—knowing full well where this conversation was going.

"Dorne didn't know anything about you personally. We've only heard of you by reputation," she explained. "You were an anomaly to us. So we needed someone to get close to the royal family to ascertain the truth."

"And so the Martells sent you?"

Ariyana gave a brief nod. "It was during the rebellion of your uncle Lord Renly Baratheon. I owed Prince Doran since my mother and uncle died, Your Grace. I had nowhere else to go."

"When you ascended the Iron Throne," Oberyn brought up. "The Battle of Blackwater Bay. When you were married. Your destruction of the Iron Islands."

That did little to ease the Young Stag's growing frown. He felt betrayed. "So you felt it was okay to spy on me?"

"Your Grace…"

"Why hide that?" he felt his temper slowly rise. "What else are you hiding?"

"I have nothing for you," she insisted.

Daveth turned to Doran. "If there's to be any alliance between us, if they're ever to work, I need to know if I can trust you; because if this is how we start the negotiations between our two houses, Prince Doran, then I'm deeply disappointed."

Doran shook his head. "I doubt it is fair to blame Ariyana Dayne for simply doing what I asked her to do for the people of Dorne. Besides, our association is new. Would you trust me with information that puts your house's future at risk?"

"I already placed a lot on the line to make this work," he countered. "So what could my family hope to gain by simply lying to you now?"

Ellaria sneered. "You have the Baratheon name and Lannister blood," she said. "They weren't particularly welcome in Dorne—"

"I do look like my father, mother or grandfather to you?"

Silence filled the room, until…

"*Waah! Waah! Waah!*"

Both Lyonel and Cassana started crying at the heated tone of their father's voice, indicating they were being somewhat frightened by Daveth. Sansa immediately stood up from her seat to tend to her children, rocking and cradling them—doing her absolute best to calm them down; even with Myrcella's assistance, it only did much to ease the twins. Daveth looked around, trading glances between Ariyana, Ellaria, Oberyn and Doran Martell. Trystane, meanwhile, remained silent—unsure of what to make.

Daveth shook his head and stood up, adjusting his collar as he worked to recompose himself. "We'll be taking a brief recess until things settled down. For now I can't seem to trust anyone in light of recent events. Once the air has been cleared, then we'll talk properly."

"Daveth—" Sansa called out.

Without saying a word, Daveth walked out of the meeting room in haste. Judging by his posture, the Young Stag was understandably angry at the deception of one of his own Kingsguard confessing to having spied on him and the Martells grilling into him—whether it was his own heritage or past actions on military campaigns. The first round of peace talks sputtered and was delayed. Lyonel and Cassana still wailed despite Shae and Brella's attempts at calming them.

Sansa looked at Ariyana, her eyes filled with disappointment. "We trusted you, Ariyana. How could you do this to him? Hasn't His Grace been through enough already?" she reprimanded.

Surprisingly, Ariyana couldn't bring herself to look the Wolf Queen in the eyes. She wouldn't blame her; ever since her arrival to King's Landing, the Sword of the Morning was embraced by the royal court with open arms… and yet they knew nothing about the plot. When Ariyana and House Martell hoped to use this as a way of beginning a more open dialogue, they were not expecting this sort of reaction from the Young Stag.

"I protected you. Fought for you."

"The Baratheons are rather known for their… mercurial tempers when they get angry," Jaime pointed out. "Once he's calmed down, he'll be back for the talks. Daveth knows that he's come too far just to back out now."

Lucius nodded somewhat. "His Grace might not be like most of his Baratheon or Lannister relatives, he still doesn't take kindly to any of his inner circle deceiving him."

"This was not an outcome we were expecting," Doran examined. "Yet he said he 'can't trust anyone in light of recent events.' What did he mean by that?"

Before Sansa could say anything, Oberyn blurted out.

"His mother and grandfather are dead."

Jaime frowned at being reminded of those two losses; Myrcella, on the other hand, was stricken with shock. Her eyes widened and stunned, the young Princess felt as if the wind was kicked out of her.

"Mother, grandfather… They're what? Dead?" she spoke up. "How?"

"Dear girl, your mother was charged for committing treason," Oberyn explained. "Instead of ascertaining the truth in a court hearing, Cersei instead demanded a trial by seven," he pointed to his injuries. "A trial she lost and was later executed for."

"I told you no one walks away from me," Cersei's voice ran through Jaime's head. "You are no son of mine."

"Lord Tywin, on the other hand," the Red Viper continued, "was assassinated… by his own daughter's minions."

Myrcella looked uncertain, but during her stay in Dorne she learned to truly thrive and determine whenever someone was being truthful or deceitful. She feels closer to the Martells now than she does to the Lannisters. And the Martells did not lie to her about this; being removed from Cersei and her family for so long made Myrcella realize what a normal and loving family is like and realized that her own mother Cersei had long ignored her well-being. Her thoughts dwelled on her family's loss… to her own brother's well-being.

"How… What about Daveth?" she implored.

Sansa looked somewhat saddened, unsure of how to answer her sister-in-law. "I… don't know what to say, Myrcella. A lot has changed over the last few years; fate has not been kind to him."

"Will he be all right?"

"I'm uncertain," the Wolf Queen answered honestly.

"Well, we've got to go check on him. King or no, he's still my brother."

Doran sighed and massaged his temple. "Very well. The negotiations can wait until His Grace collects himself. Oberyn, who do you have close by near the King?"

"Three of my daughters should be coming back from their adventures with that Frey boy," Oberyn said. "With any luck, they should be here by midday."

"Then let's hope it's sooner rather than later. We still have much to discuss."

Somewhere on the beach…

On the beaches of Dorne stood a small golden tent, casting a shadow in which used to guard inhabitants from the blazing sun. Within the area were three young Dornish women Olyvar Frey accompanied. Three of the eight famous (or infamous) Sand Snakes, bastard daughters of Prince Oberyn Martell, honed their skills.

The eldest among them was Obara Sand, a formidable warrior and the most overtly martial of the Sand Snakes. Dressed in a more masculine style than her sisters, Obara always wore leather armor—even when not in combat; her robes greatly resemble the ones her father wears. Obara inherited Oberyn's martial prowess, particularly his skill with a traditional Dornish spear, and is staunchly disciplined to not overtly display her emotions.

The second was Nymeria Sand, daughter of an eastern noblewoman from Yi Ti and has the most refined appearance – though still incorporating leather armor and riding pants. Being the most reserved and calculating of her sisters, Nymeria tends to hold off with her 8-foot long bullwhip and analyze her opponents to calculate a more efficient means of defeating them whenever she found her enemy's weak points. She is also the more recognizable as she is named after the legendary warrior-queen Nymeria of the Rhoynar who led her people's migration to Dorne and united her people with House Martell 1,000 years ago and incorporated much of the Rhoynish culture and customs into Dornish society.

And lastly, the third was Tyene Sand, eldest daughter of her father Prince Oberyn Martell's paramour Ellaria Sand. Although she feigns being soft-spoken and childlike, she mostly deploys this as a deceptive tactic to keep her enemies off guard as she is just as fierce as her older sisters if not more impetuous. Tyene basically wears the same Dornish woman's dress as Nymeria does, but more revealing with side cutouts and a more aggressive X-shaped leather piece in the front, symbolically more aggressive. In combat, Tyene deploys twin daggers with a snake motif infamously coated with lethal poisons so that even a small scratch may prove deadly if not treated. Tyene is quick on the draw and can move so quickly before even her older sisters can restrain her.

Olyvar rode his horse on the sandy shores, his eyes trailing up and down Tyene's figure which she easily noticed.

"You like what you see?" she teased.

"Can't help it, my dear fair maiden," he flirted. "I've seen quite a few women in the Seven Kingdoms during my time with the King, but Dornish women are the most beautiful women in the world."

"Thank you."

Obara scoffed. "He said Dornish women, not you."

Tyene raised an eyebrow. "Tell me," she mocked feeling hurt, "am I not the most beautiful woman you've ever seen?"

The Frey squire blushed. "Th-the most gorgeous…"

"Oh, get a room you two!" Nymeria lectured.

Tyene impulsively stuck her tongue out of her mouth, directing it at her two half-sisters as a response to their taunts.

Upon climbing over a sandy hill, Nymeria looked across the distance and noticed a faint person lying on his back in what appeared to be a pool of his own blood.

"Someone's here," she called out.

Kicking the side of their hoses, the quadrio rode to get a closer look. Once they got close enough, Olyvar's face scrunched in appalling disgust. It was the same Pentoshi merchant captain that accompanied the royal host with them to Dorne on the King Robert's Warhammer several days ago. He was covered in scorpions, missing a few fingers, half his left ear and lips was bitten off, both his legs were broken and he looked as if someone or something had mauled him.

"I know him," Olyvar examined.

Obara looked suspicious. "Do you now?"

"He was with us when we arrived at Planky Town days ago. Who could've done such a thing?"

The man gurgled and gagged, coughing up his own blood as he slowly reached his hand out as if pleading for help.

"Blurah… gcagh… *cough, cough!*"

Olyvar knelt down. "What happened, ser? Who did this to you?" he asked concerned.

Gripping the squire tightly, the Pentoshi merchant captain uttered. "Man… *cough cough!* scar along right eye… pack of dogs… bushy beard… X-shaped red man… I *cough cough!*"

Before he could utter anything else, the man's eyes rolled to the back of his head and loosened his grip before finally going limp. Olyvar examined the man more closely and determined that he was dead.

'Poor soul. What a horrible way to die,' he thought.

Obara remained indifferent. "He wouldn't have survived anyway," she said bluntly, drinking a flask of water.

"Even if we did anything, it wouldn't have made a difference," added Nymeria. "His injuries were too severe. Still even by Dornish standards, this method of torture is horrendous."

Olyvar looked lost in thought. "Tell me, are there any particular breed of dogs in Dorne?"

Tyene shook her head. "None that comes to mind. We have no dogs in Dorne. Why?"

Olyvar again placed his fist under his chin, thinking hard.

"Even if there was, no outsiders would've last long in Dorne should they try anything," Obara noted. "When I was a child, Oberyn came to take me to court. I'd never seen this man, and yet he called himself my father. My mother wept, said I was too young, and a girl. Oberyn tossed his spear at my feet and said, 'Girl or boy, we fight our battles. But the Gods let us choose our weapons.' My father pointed to the spear, and then to my mother's tears."

Spinning her spear around, she planted the pommel of her spear deep into the sand.

"We've all made our choices, sister," Nymeria said.

Tyene looked at the dead Pentoshi. "He said something about a man with a bushy beard. Pack of dogs…."

"It appears we have an assassin on the loose in Dorne," Obara concluded.

"Scar along the right eye, bushy beard, X-shaped red man… Who could—?" Olyvar uttered quietly before his eyes widened. "Wait, wait! I know who he speaks of!"

The three Sand Snakes turned to the Frey squire.

"Well?" Nymeria asked.

Olyvar turned to them. "We've got to get back to the others! We've got to warn Prince Doran and the King!"

"Who are you so frightened of?"

"It's not who I'm frightened of, more like our assassin has a hell of a huge chip on their shoulder."

"And that concerns us how…?"

"Because I've seen how these people work up close during the Second Greyjoy Rebellion. They leave no witnesses. If they're after King Daveth, then chances are they'll try to get rid of the Martells just to cover their tracks!"

Chapter End

Author's Note: Well, the first phase of the negotiations went south after some startling revelations were unfolded. Upon learning that his own Kingsguard Ariyana Dayne spied on him on behalf of House Martell, Daveth stormed off to collect his thoughts and cool down—putting the negotiations on hold. The Martells and royal host did take a moment to discuss some things, yet even Prince Doran Martell understands that Daveth must return to the meeting room in order to proceed with the peace talks. Myrcella now knows the fate of her mother and grandfather, yet is more concerned about her brother. And the Sand Snakes are introduced at the ending with Olyvar Frey hinting to having a crush on Tyene Sand. Now that they're aware of an assassin, they'll be on the move to rendezvous with the others before the aggressor reaches his target. What are your thoughts? Let me know.

In anticipation of Game of Thrones' eighth and final season which is set to air on HBO this year on April 14th, I'm debating on whether or not I'd do a cast perspective on Daveth Baratheon's history from their perspective and wonder if whether or not you'd be interesting in seeing a brief bio section (ex. Date of birth, height, hair color, eye color, likes, dislikes, etc.) but I'll leave that up to you. Remember, Game of Thrones season 8 will be on the air on April 14th.

Also I'd like to give a huge shout out to my viewers for following and favoring the story as we've just reached over 1,000 reviews this afternoon! I've been reading over the feedback ever since I started writing "Trials and Tribulations of the Oathkeeper" last April and it means a lot that most of you guys have stayed around and welcomed newcomers to the story. Again, thanks for the 1,000 reviews and I look forward to hearing more from you.

"When you play the Game of Thrones, you win or you die. There is no middle ground."
—Cersei Lannister

Jason Kreuger Myers: Maybe have it said that even Jaime has more honor then she does for betraying a king worthy of service instead of killing A man who was less a king and more rabies animal

Hit her where it REALLY hurts

celie. sLineC-Line: the sword of the morning will lose her place in the kingsguard
after all she betrayed her king
and daveth isn't the type to trust again without proof.. and kingsguard is a big step...

see you next chapter

C.E.W: Can't say I blame Daveth for the anger thing with Ariyana Dayne, even Sansa realizes it was wrong. He may need help from Sansa and Myrcella in order to get him back on track. He's come to far, risked too much to unite the Kingdoms to stop now, Dorne is part of the Seven Kingdoms. I should thank Locke for his appearance though, maybe dealing with him will help ease relations the right way. Locke or any one of his men get captured and coughs up Ramsay's name, then Daveth will bring his fury on Ramsay. The Martells may want in too particularly the Sand Snakes, an attack on their home, Ramsay made it personal.

Silent Wolf Singer: Seems there's nothing but liars and thieves no matter where you go in the world of Game of Thrones. Daveth can't trust no one, the only time he could possibly have peace is with his wife and children. Congratulation on your 1000 review. You deserve it.

—Thanks.

mpowers045: Well it seems Olyvar Frey is not useless after all

RHatch89: Awesome update :)

—Thanks.

DaddyChad: Daveth has the right to strip Aliyana of her titles and seize her for treason and that is what he should do.

Hear My Fury: Well, Dorne better get it together. Ariyana you have a huge apology you owe to Daveth. It's understandable how he reacted, given that most of his family members betrayed him, Renly, Cersei, Joffrey. I do like how it was similar to Dany finding out about Jorah spying on her. And hopefully the Sand Snakes and Olyvar make it back in time. Though I doubt they'll be useful considering Daveth's Kingsguard. Actually it could be a opportunity for Ariyana to redeem herself by defending Daveth from his enemies similar to how Jorah defended Dany from the Sons of the Harpy.

10868letsgo: Hurry and update soon. This is too good to pause.

SkittlezxBabex146: Oh she needs to not be kingsguard anymore he can't trust her