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Lady of Dorne
Southern Courtship
In the warm glow of dawn, the men and women looked even more annoyed and tired at being dragged out of bed so early and unexpectedly. Traveling through the desert was never an easy undertaking and they had not quite left it behind. Sure, Lord Uller was more than an excellent host and their staying at Hellholt had been a nice one. It had only been too short because their lady decided to only give them as much time as they needed to recover their strength and not a day longer. She was eager to go back to Blackmont as soon as possible. Sure, the plague had been limited mainly to Sunspear and the land around it but there had been outbreaks here and there all over Dorne. Their home had not been spared, although the plague there had not unleashed as much malice as it had in House Martell's seat.
Larra Blackmont listened to their disquiet with a tightened face. Once or twice, she almost snapped at them to keep quiet, for her head was throbbing. The news from last night had awoken the damned snake of her agonizing headaches… well, if she had to be fair, it was not only the news. Since the beginning of that thrice cursed plague troubles had been heaping one after another. She had hoped for a few more days of rest as much as the members of her household had. But it was not to be.
She rubbed her bloodshot eyes with her so very weary hand and stood up straighter as she saw her host approaching her.
"My lady," he said, taking her aside so they could speak in private. "I'd rather have you stay here. I'll be happy to have you in Hellholt until a proper escort could be summoned from Blackmont."
Larra shook her head. "It'll only make the clash uglier. Have you been appraised of the precise number of the men waiting in ambush?" she asked and he had to admit that no, he hadn't.
"Symon Santagar is not a man to give up so easily," the woman said. "If he wants to have me, he'll try to get to me, no matter how strong an escort I have."
"And he'll drag you to the nearest septon around to perform a wedding ceremony as soon as you're… reconciled with the inevitable."
Larra's mouth twitched in a parody of a smile. What a tactful description of abduction and rape! But she had no doubt that abduction and rape would be her fate once she was on the road again. The plague had taken her husband, leaving her free to wed again – to anyone who succeeded in forcing her to! The turmoil with the balance of power disturbed so between Princess Elia and Prince Oberyn – and let's not forget the bloody King and the even bloodier Yronwoods, she went on in her aching head – empowered every villain around to try his luck in whatever monstrosity would bring them the biggest prize without fear of being brought to justice because highborn had more important things to deal with. Larra was such a prize.
"You can stay here for as long as you need to," Lord Harmen insisted, and this time she really smiled.
"Till the end of my life?" she asked. "I thank you but I really have to reach home as soon as possible."
He sighed. "The boat is ready for you," he said. "I'd rather provide you with a proper ship but – "
"But I have a better chance to go unnoticed if I don't make myself conspicuous," she finished for him, looking at her male breeches and tunic, both quite coarse. Irritated skin was the least of her concerns, though. "Again, thank you. Now, I have to explain it to my men why we should make haste."
She did so without many words, for such were not truly needed. Shouts of outrage swiftly trailed when Larra reminded her knights that no, they could not be sure that they'd be able to stop the brigands from taking her. They could well die in the attempt though.
Lord Uller led them by the riverside to the waiting barge. Larra could see that he had done his best to provide for her safety, sending his most skilled sailors and a few men-at-arms whose swords were hidden beneath a great canvas in the centre of the boat.
"I've sent word to Starfall," Larra said once her party was aboard. "Lord Dayne will send a few boats to meet us and escort us to the castle. From there, it'll be easy to reach my own territory."
Her handmaiden only looked at her in mute horror. Larra seated herself on a pile of wool and tried not to show that she felt the same.
The swift steps made Elvar Sand open his eyes as soon as he realized that they were headed in one direction – his own. He recognized the woman immediately and heaved a sigh. One would think that the Red Keep was big enough for a single man to hide for an hour. Just an hour. Was it so much to ask?
"Why are you sitting here in the cold?"
"Want to take a seat?" he offered and moved a little on the bench. Naeryn, though, only gave it a doubtful look. Had it been wooden, she might have accepted her cousin's proposal but it was marble and sure to freeze her lady bits off.
"I'm looking for Elia. Do you know where she might have gone?"
"No idea," he said and then decided to irk her, just a little. "Are you sure she isn't in the King's bed?"
"It isn't funny, Elvar," his cousin snapped. "There's been a letter from Dorne. Starfall, of all places. A bunch of letters, in fact."
Now, he almost rose, his worry tickled. "Arel and Alynna? They both wrote?"
"Yes, I think. As well as Larra Blackmont. Her letter was delivered by the same raven."
What the hell was going on in Dorne? Suddenly, Elvar was all concern. They had been tarrying here for too long, playing the game of thrones while innocents might be paying the price already. Were there brigands who roamed Dorne already? Had they chased Larra away from Blackmont? After a great plague, such things were common occurrence. Alric Gargalen had met Elvar's mother as she had been running away in the lieu of such a disaster. True, it had been in Essos but men were the same here and there. Human nature did not change.
"Go on and look for Elia," he said. "I'll try to find Yronwood. He must give us his support fully and make it known. We might know he's on our side but those who rely on a potential conflict to draw benefits from themselves don't."
All of a sudden, Naeryn smiled. "He will," she said, with certainty that could only mean one thing.
"You already made a short work out of it? When did you find the time!"
"A week after our arrival," she said, as smug as a cat licking cream from her whiskers. "Do you care to hear the details?"
"By the Seven, no!" Oberyn might enjoy it but as similar as he and his half-brother were, that was one thing they differed in.
"I didn't think you would. Well, he isn't the one for pillow talk. But he's of noble character. Once he gives his word, he'll keep it. We have nothing to fear from him." She smiled once again. "I'll make sure to be there when the King realizes that either way, he's lost."
"Save a seat for me," he said, and she gave him a quizzical look before laughing.
"I knew you disliked him but I have no idea you disliked him this much!"
He gave her a look of utter surprise. "Why? I thought it would be obvious. We lost so many for this stupid romance of his. And he neglects Elia shamefully."
"All the more reason to have this sham of a marriage dissolved," Naeryn said. "She's been sleeping alone for what, five years now?"
Six, Elvar thought but deemed it wiser not to correct her. In truth, he didn't mind Rhaegar not bedding Elia all this much – but he found it distasteful that the bloody silver king could not even visit her chambers at night, to make it look like he cared. Worse, in this court Elia could not even risk taking a lover, so she truly slept alone.
Alas, if the letters really spoke of troubles brewing, Elia's needs would have to make room for Dorne's. They could not linger here forever. As much as he hated the idea of leaving his sister here, he would do it if need be.
"I wonder what makes him think he deserves Dorne," his cousin went on, thankfully in a low voice. "Because he's been such a loving, attentive husband? Because he brought only good to Dorne? I don't think he realizes how Dorne truly feels about him. Seven hells, I think he doesn't realize how Elia doesn't feel about him."
"She doesn't?" Elvar asked, confused.
Naeryn looked up at the annoyingly grey sky. "I swear, Elvar, you know as much about women as that milkblood Elia was in love with!"
It took him a moment to follow her. "No one in Sunspear would even think of Elia loving her husband, so I suppose it's Arthur we're flaying now?"
"Of course I mean Arthur," Naeryn said. "Since he donned this white cloak, his blood has turned to milk, as pale as his sword! And to think what a man he used to be…"
"… at seventeen when he seduced you… or was it the other way around?" He laughed and ducked to avoid the fingers reaching for his shoulder to squeeze it not quite in jest. But he was not quite as merry as he tried to look like. Despite Naeryn's many affairs – and who could blame her? Her bastardy made making a good match hard and her deformity made it virtually impossible – he had always thought there was something sad and touching in the way she treated men. It was as if she was trying to prove to herself that he missing hand didn't matter, that all that mattered was that she was beautiful and capable to seduce any powerful man she wished. Again, Elvar could not blame her. He understood her, even, although he wished it wasn't so.
"Either way, he cannot be trusted," Naeryn went on and he nodded. It would have been much easier if they did not have to hide their true plans from the man standing guard at Elia's door most of the time but they had to work with what they had. Elvar felt an unwanted pang of pity for the younger man, for he and Arthur had gotten along well as children. Oh, Rhaegar's plan had been perfect. Not where the silly girl was concerned but in making Arthur an accomplice in the affair. Now, Elia could never trust Arthur again, for he had been sent to King's Landing with a sole purpose – to be her protector, first and foremost. Rhaegar had been aware of it, agreed to it – and with a single blow he had severed the tie, isolating Elia from yet another Dornishman who could have supported her in her attempts to prevent Rhaegar from actually marrying the girl, making her more dependent on him. And Arthur had agreed to it, honouring his vow even when he knew Rhaegar had broken his part of the arrangement with Dorne. A masterstroke, indeed.
"My father doesn't agree," Elvar said lightly, and she gave him a startled look but before she could say something, Rhaenys ran through the garden gate.
"Mama has been looking for you," she cried and they swiftly rose and made haste to hear what the bad news were.
"So, there were two abduction attempts?" Aelinor asked incredulously. "Santagar and the young Dayne?"
"There will be more," Alric predicted darkly. "Each time she leaves Blackmont, she'll be in danger of eager… suitors. She was very lucky that Arel had the good sense to send more men following her in secret, besides the men from Blackmont and those he officially gave her. Without them, they could not have overcome the men of High Hermitage."
No one dared to disrupt the heavy silence that had fallen over Elia's solar. In a land unsure of who its ruler was or even that there was a ruler, heiresses could not be safe or rather, they would be even more unsafe than usual. Larra Blackmont had spent months as a widow once before taking a second husband – but that had been at the time when Doran's hand had still held Dorne in its gentle but inescapable grip.
"She could not even cross from Starfall to Blackmont without an accident," Elia said, as if they hadn't all heard the contents of the letter.
The fire in the huge hearth was burning low; without losing time to summon a servant, Alric grabbed the fire tongs and started prodding it to coax some heat out of it. "Alynna is enraged," he said. "She hasn't seen Lanore in more than a year, yet Mikkel doesn't dare to send the child to her even with a numerous guards, for the very same reason Lady Larra is unsafe. There are already those waiting for her to set a foot out of Salt Shore."
Everyone shuddered. Alynna's eldest daughter from her first marriage was her grandfather's heir – and she had seen but eleven namedays. The very thought of a child being abducted and wedded was beyond terrible. But the truth was, there was only one way for the abductor to make sure that the marriage would not be dissolved and that was to bed her. The situation is spinning out of control even faster than I expected, Alynna had written. I urge you to solve the matter fast, or else I'll start making myself a new gown to celebrate Oberyn coming into inheritance.
She was not being serious, of course, it was her raw anger, concern, and pain speaking. But anyway, she was right. Dorne was becoming more restive with each passing day and they lingered here, losing time. They had to act now. They had to convince Rhaegar see reason… or truly denounce him by denouncing Elia. Every fiber of Alric's being fought against that possibility but what choice did they have? That would almost certainly lead to a war but at least Oberyn would have the authority to set things right in Dorne and rally it before taking the field. For all his wanton ways, he was wildly popular and that would serve him well if need be. Alric could only be grateful that no matter his son's faults, the greed for what belonged to his siblings was not among them.
"What does Lady Larra write?" Elia asked finally, tiredly. "We haven't read her letter yet."
She wasn't eager to, either. No doubt the woman demanded the protection her liege lady owed her and could not provide now.
"The letter was addressed to me," Elvar said and everyone looked at him, startled to realize that he hadn't spoken at all – very unusual for him, for he had an opinion about everything and was never shy of expressing it.
Silently, he handed the letter to Elia who read it and her eyes widened. Then, she read it aloud for the others to hear and they all gasped. It was, quite plainly, a plea for him to come and marry Lady Larra at once before she was forced to accept someone displeasing to her. If Arel and Alynna's accounts were something to go by, she did have a good reason to fear such a thing.
"Things are really not looking good if I come across as pleasing," Elvar finally said, quite sarcastically.
Alric gave him a sharp look. Elia inhaled briefly and managed to stop herself from doing the only thing he would never forgive – tell him that it was all in his imagination. Instead, she tried to appraise him objectively and had to admit that he was right. Fifteen years ago, her half-brother had been a comely, carefree young man who could have a beautiful woman every time he wanted one. Now, the scar was thick, badly healed and disfiguring the left part of his face in a sickening fashion. The blade that had lashed his cheek open had tugged both eye and mouth downward, transforming his face into a repulsive grotesque. He could no longer articulate his words properly, although it was not immediately noticeable, that slight hiss that came out with them through his distorted mouth. He had not lost the eye but it looked almost unmoving. She remembered how in the beginning, she had been always careful not look away from his face, although each time she saw it, she had wanted to scream.
"If I remember correctly, you were always pleasing to her," she finally said. "The two of you were getting along just fine when you happened to be at Sunspear in the same time. She seems to trust you enough to place her future in your hands."
He gave her a sideways look but did not press the matter.
Elia rose. "I think I'll tell Lord Yronwood about these letters right now," she said. "I don't doubt he has his own informants but I think that reminding him of just how bad the situation is will do us some good. He has to declare his support for the Martells openly, make it clear to everyone." She paused. "Rhaegar included."
She looked at Elvar. "You should leave now," she said. "And travel fast. Go to her and marry her. Then, you can join Oberyn or head for the passes to meet me as I travel home… or hear first that my bid has failed. It has to be one or the other. We cannot wait any more. The game is over."