Halfblood: The chapters are as long as the plot requires them too. Some are longer because they need to convey a lot of information, and some don't need to be that long. Sunrise chapters are usually around 3-3.5k words long, but they can be shorter (like Rickard I) or longer (like this one).

Guest: Moat Cailin is open, only a few Ironborn cells need to be mopped up.

ATP: Well in any case, the North is still in a state of war with the South. Time only will tell when they make their way back down there, though.

Guest2: This story will be overall bittersweet for the North. It's not going to be Stark-bash nor will it be Stark-wank. Some of the North will suffer and some won't. The North won't be as central to the story as they are in other fics, since this is heavily Dorne-centered, but the whole arc from Rickard's POV will be important for later. Especially considering the last few sentences of this chapter.

Mangahero: Umber gets a moment of glory he really deserves in canon. And no one will miss Victarion.

Jennelyn

"Is the view always this beautiful?"

Jennelyn smiled. The view from Skyreach's castle gave a perfect panorama of the Red Mountains and the Prince's Pass. Sometimes soaring above the clouds themselves, the view from Skyreach was breathtaking.

Skyreach itself was a castle perched above the Prince's Pass, capable of controlling this vital artery leading into Dorne, but also sufficiently well protected that a direct assault on the fortress would be extremely hard considering the steep cliffs it was perched upon. From here, one could even see the Stormlands in the far distance, on days where the sun shined brightly over the northern passes of Dorne.

This situation didn't help Skyreach from falling a couple times during its history, but it was certainly one of the best defended keeps in all of Dorne, second only to Starfall. And to Jennelyn Fowler, it was also home.

"Yes." She answered simply. "Although we're getting snow early this year. Usually, we don't have any until the middle of winter. However, it's the end of summer and the highest peaks already have white caps."

"This might be the signs of a long winter…" the man in front of her turned around, showing his face and scar.

Walking towards an oak table, he grabbed a glass and a jug, and asked.

"Orange juice?"

"Sure."

Quentyn quickly brought her a glass of the orange-coloured sugary drink, which she happily took and quickly drank, enjoying the sweet taste of the drink as it flowed down her throat, with slices of pulp quickly sticking under her tongue.

She spared a look at the man in front of her, who was quietly sipping his own drink.

If she had known three years ago that he'd be her closest friend, she would have dismissed that person as a complete and utter fool. Yet, since that fateful night in Yronwood, Jennelyn came to think of Quentyn as more than just a simple acquaintance.

While Jeyne thought of the prince as a pretty face and nice bedwarmer, Delilah of a way for her to become a princess, Fiora of the man who avenged Rhaenys, and little Quentyn, of a strange person who shared his name, Jennelyn had thought of the prince as a close friend, and even more.

Ever since their first encounter at Yronwood, they'd grown closer and closer, to the point where they'd regularly talk and laugh together, to both Jeyne and Delilah's great annoyance. It seemed like Arianne had involuntarily created an unexpected friendship, or was it really? While Jennelyn couldn't say that she loved him, their friendship certainly extended further than anything she'd experienced before. When Quentyn admitted to her that she was "the sister he never had", her heart nearly broke.

However, some of these feelings became very much mixed when he came back to Skyreach. The initial happiness of seeing him again was met with the shock of seeing Nymeria's pregnancy. She hated to admit it, but at that moment, she felt jealous.

Jealous because she would never share the happiness of raising her own flesh and blood, and jealous because of how the two clearly felt about each other. Nymeria had been one of her lovers for longer than Quentyn knew her, yet she had fallen into his arms and they now had decided to have a child together? She could feel her blood boil as if a terrible betrayal had been committed.

Yet, during their first evening at Skyreach, this anger and disappointment faded away. She could see that the two of them were closer than she ever was with any of them, and she could see the effect they had on each other. Nymeria had managed to make Quentyn smile more than she'd ever seen, considering the prince always looked sad or serious. Next to her, though, he was free to show a facade that she'd rarely seen. And the same thing was true on the other side. While Nymeria was usually serious and martial in her attitude, that attitude completely melted away when she was close to Quentyn, as she showed kind displays of affection, her voice growing softer and her teasing attitude fading to a more proper stance.

She stood no chance. With their evening gone, the anger, disappointment, and bitterness faded and gave way to genuine happiness, that was not without a little bit of sadness. Seeing them together…well it was a little like being a mother and seeing your son and daughter marry each other. She was close to the both of them, and seeing them together tugged at her heartstrings.

Not to mention the baby. She would love to hold it in her arms when it will be born. Skyreach's maester said that it shouldn't be too far away now, two to three months.

Quentyn's soft voice brought her out of her reverie, however.

"A copper for your thoughts?"

"Oh, nothing much." She sighed. "Just thinking about the world, the future."

Quentyn nodded back as if in understanding.

"I know, I worry about that too."

"You worry about your child?"

Quentyn nodded.

"Nymeria will be fine." She replied softly, reassuring him.

"It's not Nym I worry about…well not her health anyway."

"Explain."

"You know…she wanted this. I thought it was too early…but she really insisted and I couldn't refuse. I love her, Jen. I couldn't say no to her." He shook his head. "It was her idea, but in the end, we made that choice together. I…I worry she'll come to resent that choice."

"Why would that be?" she asked. "She doesn't seem to be regretting her decision."

"Not yet, but…" Quentyn seemed lost. "You know…raising a child properly isn't easy. I don't want to be my uncle Oberyn and leave them in the Water Gardens while I travel everywhere without taking care of them. I don't want to be my father and not care about them.

But most of all, I fear that Nymeria is underestimating the amount of care that goes into raising a child. She will have to abandon some of her activities like swimming or fighting, even bedding me will become a rarer occurrence.

I…I don't think she realizes the effort that will come out of this, for us both, but especially for her."

"Wetnurses exist, Quentyn." Jennelyn countered. "She won't need to carry such a burden by herself, there will be people to ease it for her."

"Mayhaps but…" Quentyn looked her in the eyes. "Listen, Jen…I…I don't want her to hate me for it."

"Hate you?"

"You know? Blame me for having stolen her freedom by getting her with child? By not insisting enough that it would be a bad idea. And gods forbid…that she might hate our child as a result." Quentyn's voice was breaking apart. Jennelyn could feel that this was a genuine concern, yet it felt…so wrong…so far away from what any of them could ever do.

"Listen, Quent." She brought a hand on his shoulder. "You and Nymeria…I…It would be wrong to say I am not envious of you. But gods, how could she hate you for it! She loves you, you idiot! She won't hate you for this, as you said yourself, you made your decision together!

Nymeria isn't completely stupid. She told me often times that, looking at her friends growing and having their own children, just like Deria and little Baelor or Elia and Sylva and Elinor. The same thing is for Jeyne, and even me. We both want to have children. I…will never have any…but I would love my sister's children as if they were my own. And little Delilah's too if she wishes."

"Thank you." Quentyn nodded. "It helps, really."

"You can always count on me, you know." She laughed. "We can even find you a wife that will be amenable to your situation."

"Oh, that's a conversation I dread of having with my father."

Jennelyn nodded. She knew that their relations were strained and no doubt that Doran Martell was now a distant memory in a lot of Dornishman's eyes. On the Red Mountains, he was anyway. From Starfall to Wyl, when mentioning the prince of Dorne, the people referred to Quentyn.

"You know, many Dornish girls would like your hand if only for the title and wealth."

"I know this. But I don't want to force any of them into a miserable marriage, or feel selfish by putting Nymeria first."

"You could marry me." Jennelyn suddenly blurted out.

"Delilah would have my head." Quentyn chuckled.

"I'm serious, Quent." She answered. "You know, it wouldn't be bad. I can trust you not to enforce your rights on me, and you can pass off Nym's children as mine. You can enjoy her, and I can enjoy my freedom. Everyone wins."

"It's not that simple." Quentyn shook his head. "First of all, I cannot give your house a marriage without ensuring that Yronwood doesn't let me down. As much as he gives me headaches, it is at Yronwood where I was raised, and it is thanks to them that I managed to get to this point.

I need to have solidified control over the rest of Dorne if I am to do something like this. Just like when Alyn Martell married Elysa Fowler and later when Nymor Martell married Iris Fowler. The conditions with Yronwood being close to a pariah in Dorne at that time enabled these marriages and the concession of a few favors."

"If it is the balance of power you wish to preserve, you can always marry Gwyneth Yronwood to Edric Dayne. It would certainly help ease Yronwood's fears." Jennelyn countered. "Compromises can always be found, for the right price. As you said, Yronwood made you, but you made them. You enabled them to stack all this wealth. If they plant a dagger in your back, you can just as easily take it away, just like that stunt that forced Yronwood to back off from Delilah marrying Cletus."

"True." He scratched his hair, acknowledging the point. "But another point of importance is that I need heirs, trueborn heirs, and I cannot possibly pass my children with Nym as yours, it's just not possible. People will know. This is not the Dance of Dragons and I am not Rhaenyra Targaryen, and you will not be my Laenor."

"I was just putting the idea out there…" she sighed. "Do you have any ideas for a match, then?"

"Four, actually." He nodded. "But whether or not my father would accept such matches is another matter. As small as his influence is, he still has much power."

"I wonder why you haven't side-lined him yet."

"Careful, Jen." Quentyn cracked a small smile. "This is treason."

She rolled her eyes.

"Mayhaps you should arrest me and have me thrown in a cell," Jennelyn smirked. "But then you'd have to imprison two-thirds of Dorne with me."

"I know how you feel, but in the end, he's still my father, and he's still your prince and mine." Quentyn shook his head. "And besides, he has done little to justify such a rash course of action. Such things would need time to prepare. Which is why you may wish to keep such thoughts silent."

"Mhmm." Jennelyn whispered nonchalantly.

"You know, if you wish to stay in Sunspear, if that is your wish, you are free to do so. I would love to have you by my side." Quentyn suddenly pointed out.

Jennelyn's face lit up.

"Really?"

"Of course." He laughed. "You're someone I can trust, and someone that can think clearly, which is less than I can say for a lot of people I meet. They usually have one or the other, but never both, just like the Yronwood cousins.

I need women like you in Sunspear. I think you'd do great there, and besides, Nymeria will be there too, and our children as well, if you wish to meet them. I can have rooms built for you in the castle we're rebuilding."

"Rooms? Rebuilding?" The news came as a shock. "Are you tearing down Sunspear?"

"Not quite, but close." Quentyn put down his glass and started to look through his tunic. "It's one of the reasons I sent Gulian there, among others. He's got quite the sense for logistics and organization. Here…"

Quentyn found a few papers and laid them on the little table adjacent to the window. Jennelyn stood up and made her way there, looking at the small hill of papers, all of which had drawings and plans on them.

"You want to build all of that?" she exclaimed.

"Well, yes and no." Quentyn shook his head. "Some of it, work can start immediately or has already started, notably the new plumbing system, and should be finished soon enough. Other, more ambitious projects, like the expansion of the Botanical Gardens, the construction of the new jetties, all of this will take a lot more time and effort."

"The plumbing certainly looks ambitious…" She looked at the drafts, which showed detailed maps of Sunspear's castle and various rooms. "Where are you getting all of that water from?"

"The estuary of the Greenblood, mostly, with water pumped through by canals. We've also got some oasis in the deserts along the valleys." He answered quickly as if he had already anticipated her question. "And all in all, this will help us save water rather than consume more of it."

"The ports." Jennelyn pointed out. "Is that one of your grand projects too?"

"Yes." Quentyn nodded vigorously. "However, this one will take time. Dorne has long been a port of entry for goods coming from the East, especially since the sack of Spicetown. However, our infrastructure hasn't improved since the Conquest. It is time to remedy this problem. By the end of the decade, hopefully, Planky Town and Sunspear will dwarf any port in Westeros, especially since it avoids the crossing of the Stepstones.

Stepstones which I will need to consider. Some of the closer islands would make ideal chokepoints and bases for anti-piracy operations."

"I hear you've been rebuilding our fleet and that's why you need our copper."

Jennelyn was particularly interested in that point. Copper had been a resource that Westeros lacked but, like many other things, that Dorne had in relative abundance. As such, there were copper mines in areas like Skyreach, Kingsgrave, and Godsgrace. House Fowler was the main producer, with houses Allyrion, Manwoody, and Wyl not far behind. Until then, though, production of copper had been quite low. Indeed, there were not a lot of uses for it.

However, prince Quentyn had drastically ramped up the production of copper in the mines, to the great delight of house Fowler's coffers, which were now flooded with Martell gold.

"The fleet is indeed why I need this copper for." The prince replied. "It turns out that it may just give us an edge on everyone."

"How?"

"Well, it seems like copper protects against corrosion, which means our ships will last a lot longer than the usual wooden or lead-bottom ships. Experiments have been successful, and we've been able to design faster and more durable vessels."

"You want a fleet on par with the Redwynes…" Jennelyn gasped as she saw the list of ships on order in Ghost Hill, Yronwood, and the Tor's shipyards. "Where do you even get all of that gold?"

"I have…assets, disseminated across Westeros and Essos." Quentyn smiled weakly. "Not to mention the full potential of Dorne which I have started tapping into. Pearls, diamonds, rubies are being extracted daily around the kingdom, not to mention the luxury goods that we can start producing ourselves instead of importing from the Free Cities. Then we have the shrimp and fish farms, olives, oils, perfumes, jewelry…as I said, you should come to Sunspear, I'm sure you'd have fun trying to organize the new merchant's quarters in Sunspear and Planky Town…"

"I'd be glad to." She laughed. "That's still a substantial amount of assets that you have, though, not to mention the creation of a bank."

"That's for a later date." Quentyn shook his head. "The creation of a bank cannot be done on the fly, and I'd rather wait for the situation to have stabilized before we do anything else. For now, we're only focusing on the projects which are easier to implement, notably the crops imported from Essos and even further, like the ones from Yi-Ti from last year's expedition."

"Rice and tea." Jennelyn nodded. "The Blackmonts and Manwoodys got some rice growing, although I know naught of their success in their efforts."

"Things are going well, apparently." Quentyn answered. "Let's hope things stay that way. However, it will take years or even decades before these experiments yield satisfactory results."

"Skyreach wasn't built in a day, are ambitious, but most of this…" Jennelyn pointed to the plans. "They will take years to complete, even with the right guidance."

Quentyn nodded.

"To my eternal regret, yet. Some of these will even take decades to finish. It's been more than two years since I've developed the medicine that bears my name, but it is only a month or two ago that we have finally managed to supply every Dornishman with a sample." The prince conceded. "Things move slowly and take time. As you said, Skyreach wasn't built in a day, and all of these projects won't either. Which is why I need to prioritize a lot of things and relegate many others. Not to mention some projects won't be as popular to some lords and ladies as some others. I had enough trouble with Lady Delonne Allyrion grumbling because the Wyl-to-Sunspear road wouldn't go through Godsgrace at first.

Sunspear is on the top of my list since it will become my seat of power, and I cannot have it play second fiddle to Yronwood or even be an equal. It needs to be my castle and therefore show that House Martell is wealthy and at the cutting edge of progress. Therefore, most of the projects I have worked on for the short-term are related to this, the city, the fleet, and of course, the road between the Boneway and Sunspear."

"That is a huge road, I doubt that it would take less than an entire year to complete your renovation."

"You're right. And getting the right materials and builders will take even longer. The good news is that, for once, Yronwood is firmly on my side since it will help him with his trade. And the same goes for Jordayne, Wyl and Toland."

"Have you thought about getting some builders from Skyreach in exchange for an extension of the road from Skyreach to Yronwood? You need the Prince's Pass after all."

"Well, if you accept to come to Sunspear, I'd gladly put you in charge of organizing this, and perhaps House Fowler may reap many rewards…" Quentyn teased.

"I already said that I'd be delighted to." she winked. "I just hope that Jeyne and Delilah won't be too jealous."

"Jeyne liked Skyreach a lot more than Sunspear anyways, and as for Delilah…" Quentyn looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well she's certainly ambitious but I never promised her anything. However, she could accompany you so that you may not feel completely alone when you arrive in Sunspear?"

"That would be acceptable, I think. But enough of me, what are your personal plans for now?" Jennelyn asked. "You've got your friends in Sunspear, but I don't think you'll stay here forever. Not that I'd mind but…"

"I'm not exactly sure." Quentyn scratched his head. "The war has drawn to a standstill, but large unknowns remain, especially with the Reach. I am half of a mind to go visit Arianne in Highgarden if only to probe the Tyrell ambitions.

For now, though, we've been traveling for months, and a short month of rest in Skyreach is overdue for everyone. The mountain air will do wonders for Nym, and everyone will be allowed to rest. Perhaps I will stay here with Nym until our child is born, I hear your maester is quite experienced."

"Maester Yorick is the best maester on this side of the Red Mountains, you can be sure of that. And it allows you not to be assaulted by every Dornish man and woman if you choose to return to Sunspear."

"That too." He laughed." Although the reception in Skyreach was quite on par with what I'd expected from Sunspear. I knew Lorch was despised but to this point?"

Jennelyn nodded.

"He was a monster, and the resentment of Dorne just kept growing with each passing day. To them, you are a savior. Especially since you gave every Dornishman present with you a chance to get a personal piece of their vengeance. It is likely that even if they didn't care for Lorch, which is unlikely, everyone in your party knew someone who was slain on the banks of the Trident."

Quentyn nodded back with a sly smile. Jennelyn just rolled hers.

"How much more till we're even?" he asked.

"We've been even for a while, Quent. I think you owe me now."

"That little?" he shook his head. "You surprise me every day."

"And I've got plenty of surprises left for you, my prince."

"Stop calling me that." He giggled.

"Why not? I thought you'd like it."

"Oh, really, Lady Fowler?"

Jennelyn burst out laughing.

"Alright, I see your point."

Suddenly, a flurry of quick knocks were heard at the door.

"Were you expecting anyone?" Quentyn asked.

"Not that I know of…" Jennelyn shook her head.

"Quentyn!" the knocking continued, even while a voice could be heard beyond the door. "I know you're in there! I don't care if you're decent or not, if you do not open this door within the next minute, I will knock it down!"

"The door is unlocked," Quentyn shouted back, eyeing her with a confused look. Jennelyn just shrugged.

A summer islander burst into the room. Jennelyn barely registered her presence when the girl's gaze set upon her as she frowned. Fortunately for Jennelyn, though, Quentyn's voice took her attention.

"Sarella?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come all the way from Oldtown." She replied, quickly and seriously. "Get your paramour out of here, we need to talk."

"Hey! We're not…" Jennelyn spoke up, outraged at the prince's cousin's intrusion.

"She's not my paramour." Quentyn frowned. "And be careful, you're quite literally in her home."

"I could care less right now, cousin. It's about that issue."

Quentyn's face straightened.

"I see." He rubbed his hands through his hair. "Jen can stay, I trust her enough. Just…don't mention the involved by name."

Sarella quickly glanced at Jennelyn then turned her attention back to the prince and nodded.

"You were right." She nearly spat out. "I'm not going to ask how or why you knew, but you were fucking right. Read."

She took out a piece of paper and handed it to Quentyn, who carefully took it. While reading the piece of paper, she could see Quentyn's face slowly deteriorate.

"No." The prince shook his head. "The moron…the bastard. He couldn't…he didn't…not when he just…"

"He did." Sarella sighed. "This is the original copy. There is no need to have it in Oldtown anymore, it is better for Dorne to have it."

"Shit." Quentyn was breaking down, although Jen could see that there was a small dose of happiness in his voice. "Well, it was important indeed. This…"

"It changes everything." Sarella sighed. "It means there is one more drag…"

Quentyn shot her a dark gaze, and the summer islander froze. Both looked at Jen, who was still trying to figure out what in the seven hells was going on.

"It changes…nothing. Yet." Quentyn eventually shook his head. "But this piece of paper may prove extremely valuable when the time comes. It could allow us to…negotiate."

"There's more." She shook her head. "There is this."

She took another piece of paper out of her saddle bag and handed it to Quentyn. The prince took it almost instantly, yet took great care not to damage it. However, this time he looked less surprised than before.

"Can you not see?" The summer islander was clearly hoping to get more of a reaction out of him. "He had it all planned out."

"Well, a name is a name." He shrugged. "It hardly matters."

"It's the symbol that matters."

"Need I remind you who our cousins were named after?"

Sarella did not speak for a moment and nodded back.

"I see your point." The girl was trembling now. "Can you imagine if…if we'd won. The consequences of…of this…"

"I…prefer not to think about it." Quentyn shook his head. "But father being father, he would have asked for immediate reparation."

"A betrothal."

"To someone he knew could never threaten…" Quentyn spared a glance at Jennelyn and debated finishing his sentence.

"I think we've gone too far, Quentyn." Sarella shook her head. "She's already connecting the dots."

"Jen." Quentyn took a step forward as Jennelyn just stood on, confused. "You're going to have to trust me."

"Trust me?" Jennelyn asked, worried. "Trust me with wh…"

And suddenly it all clicked. Dragons. Oldtown. The bastard. The insult. The victory. Reparation. Cousins. So many things...that happened right there...close to the Prince's Pass. Yet, she felt like it couldn't be. It just couldn't.

"Quent…" Jennelyn's voice broke for a moment. "What's in that paper?"

"You cannot tell anyone, Jen." Quentyn took her hands, his scarred face looking straight at her, as serious as she had ever seen it. "I'm not only asking you as a friend but I'm asking you as your prince. You cannot talk about this. About any of this."

"I…he couldn't have, right? He didn't marry her?"

"He did. He screwed everything up."

Jennelyn's heart sank.

"And…the name…" she whispered. "She died, no? Her child died with her…"

Quentyn took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes.

"Swear to me, Jen."

Her eyes met his. His gaze was unflinching.

"Swear to me that you will not tell a soul and may the gods strike you down if you do."

"I swear I won't tell a single word of what transpired here, but…" she begged. "You have to tell me…does…did the child live?"

Quentyn avoided her gaze and slammed his fist into the table. He waited for a little moment, before finally answering.

"Yes, but it hardly matters." He took a deep sigh. "Daeron Targaryen is at the Wall and swore his life away. But if he does come back somehow, we are going to have to deal with a shit storm of colossal proportions."

And at that moment, it felt like the world had crumbled around Jennelyn Fowler.