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Lady of Dorne

Gone

"I'll call for some sweets with almond paste…" Larra Blackmont said. "Do you…"

Elia went white and her eyes widened in alarm. "I see," Alynna said. "She doesn't want sweets."

"I felt faint just when I heard it."

"Fine, then," Larra said. "I don't want either. She and I, we're getting along already," she joked. "Alynna, why are you so sure it's a girl?"

Elia and Alynna looked at each other. Why not, Elia thought. Larra was Alynna's friend, Elvar's wife. And the truth of the prophecy no longer mattered.

"Because the King wants a girl," she said. "He wanted a second daughter by me or his current queen. Desperately."

"He did?" Larra wondered and saved for herself the thought that the King must be different from all other men indeed if he was so insistent on the sex of the babe he didn't even have yet. Most men would be thrilled with three healthy children, two of them boys – out of Dorne, the last part mattered. She shook her head and decided that it was a good thing she had never been expected to understand the whims of the Targaryens.

"Everyone has their preconceived notions." Ellaria Sand's voice was soft but somehow managed to uplift everyone as they were about to start thinking of how unfair it was that men even have preferences where sex was concerned when it was women who did the job. It was better than thinking about the next morning because then, the husbands of every woman in the room would leave with the expedition against the Vulture King. Every woman in the room who had one, that was it. And besides, Elia had prohibited Oberyn explicitly to join the others. It was Arthur's task and it should not be seen as if Oberyn was the one taking the real charge.

"This one most of all," Naeryn murmured. "Do you intend to submit to his summons?" she turned to Elia and gave her an innocent look.

Elia looked back at her with expression of utter disbelief. "Of course not!" she replied indignantly. "But we need to deal with this brigand first. Rhaegar will have to wait," she added and waved him of as the minor inconvenience he was at the moment. "Do you think he'll try to use the Vulture Roost?" she asked and everyone gathered their heads over the map of Dorne that occupied an entire table. "As far as I know, he hasn't tried it yet. Manwoody has the place watched."

Lady Blackmont looked uncertain. "I am not sure," she said. "If he's someone who knows the terrain, the Vulture Roost would look obvious. Too obvious," she added as an afterthought.

"I hope Manwoody's men are good at staying unnoticed," Alynna said, voicing the fear of everyone in the room. The swiftness and ferocity of the attacks against Dorne's neighbours showed that the Vulture King was indeed someone who knew the terrain. A local. And that gave him advantage that he'd surely hasten to utilize before their host arrived. Arthur and Arel knew the Dornish Marches quite well and they would bring superiority in numbers. This Vulture King could hardly afford to wait for them to add the local lords' armies to their own. He might turn against Dorne any moment now – and Alynna, Ashara, and Larra who all had small children in their castles could not help but feel some dark premonition clawing its way inside them.

They were so focused on the map that no one heard the soft click of a door opening. Two men entered and took the solar in, watching the women with fondness and amusement. "I hope they are better at it than you are," the older one spoke, and the ladies turned as one.

"Ivorr!" Elia cried out happily, throwing herself at him. "Ivorr, you scoundrel, where have you been all those months, you stupid man! Oh so happy to see you!"

"Step aside so I can have a look as well," Alynna said, smiling. "I think I haven't seen him for almost as long as you."

He held Elia tight and then released her to embrace Alynna as well before drawing back. "Here, let me have a look at you," he said and grinned. "Still looking like mirror images to each other. Such lovely images…" he finished.

The looks of eldest of Alric's three bastards often made people wonder whether he was Alric's at all. Ivorr was as fair-skinned as Alric was dark; he was broad-shouldered while Alric was as lean as an arrow; his hair shone like silvered gold in sharp contrast to Alric's black. All in all, Ivorr was a copy of his uncle Mikkel at this age, except for the eyes but even those weren't Alric's. Their disturbing silver colour made some people think that he had become a victim of a failed sorcery attempt, or maybe that he dabbled in sorcery himself. Others were quick to decide that he was blind – until it became clear that he could see a needle in the darkest corner of an unlit room at night, a skill that came very handy when he had to guide his ship through the fiercest of storms.

"Where are you coming from?" Elia asked.

"The Shivering Sea," he said in a voice that made her wonder whether this was a jest. "We're lucky we made it in time to see Alaenys before she leaves. Aegyl would have been furious otherwise," he added, nodding at his companion.

As it always happened when she saw her cousin after a long parting, Elia marveled at his colouring – what was this black-haired son of the silver-haired Aelinor and equally fair-haired Aemon? His eyes, though, marked him unmistakably as belonging to them, those startling violet eyes, their sparkle heightened against his olive skin. He had yet to broaden in the shoulders but he already towered over Naeryn hugely. Elia bit back a smile and wished she had been here to see the moment Naeryn had realized that the half-brother she had spoiled and commanded mercilessly was now stronger than her. Now it was she who looked like a child next to him.

"Is Alaenys here?" he now asked after embracing Elia and Alynna. "Or should I travel to New Star? I've been on firm land in less than an hour after five months into the sea and I'd really want to…"

"She's here," Naeryn said. "And if Ivorr can spare you, you can even accompany her to Storm's End."

"Yes," he murmured. "It's only been a year or so, and so many strange things happened. We'll have another Martell soon, and with Arthur Dayne, of all people, how curious. And I can swear I heard people talk about you and Yronwood… the father of the one Vaella is going to wed. I suppose this is true as well?"

Naeryn blushed and glared and Elia wondered how interactions between sailors and townspeople worked. In less than an hour, her cousins had already learned the latest gossip. She wouldn't be too shocked if they knew about the Vulture King as well.

"We're having a more pressing problem right now," she said and in a few words, brought them in on the matter.

They listened silently and then looked at each other. "Well," Ivorr announced. "I think chasing brigands will be good for me. Under your consort's command, of course. This time, our journey was remarkably uneventful. No slave traders trying to run us over, no pirates trying to sink us and feed us to their dogs… Boredom, I'm telling you."

Elia looked aside, stifling the urge to jump up and kiss him. With pain and shame, she realized just how relieved she was that he would accompany Arthur as well. She still didn't trust her husband – not his ability but his devotion to her rule. If Rhaegar decided that somehow it was in his best interest to make her look incompetent… Elia was not sure that Arthur wouldn't listen to his instructions, even if he had to make himself look incompetent in the process. And while she could not risk send her father or Oberyn there, her half-brothers were a good compromise – not influential enough to cause rumours of her distrust in Arthur but valued and competent enough to make Arthur reconsider should he harbour any thoughts to do anything else than defeating the marauding creature immediately and conclusively.

The magic of their time alone in their chambers was now lost, to be recaptured when they retired at night. But in the daylight, she had to deal with reality. And right now, reality showed her that she was still many miles away from having the marriage her parents had had – one founded not in love alone but trust. Bitterly, she wondered whether her time at King's Landing had deprived her of the ability to trust. Maybe when the time to trust Arthur comes, I won't see it, she thought, shuddering. Her hands went to her belly in a sudden urge to protect the unborn from the cruel reality it would be born in.

"Something is wrong."

Arel's voice was as calm as ever but those who knew him well enough could catch the concern. They had only come ashore a few breaths ago, the head of the garrison at the main port of Starfall had not even reached them. Arthur squinted to see him closer and had to admit that Arel was right. Something in the way the man wouldn't look at his lord was not right.

"What's wrong?" Arel asked as soon as the two groups met.

Ser Huon brought his mount as close as he could get and said something in a low voice. Arthur saw how his brother's face changed before Arel's self-control returned.

Turning to Arthur, he said, "I believe you still remember where everything is? You'll be able to quarter the men on your own?"

"Of course," Arthur replied, not asking any questions. "Ser Huon will assist me should need arise."

The old knight nodded curtly.

"Very well," Arel said, nodded goodbye to everyone and headed for the white castle stirring to life under the soft shimmer of a golden-pink dawn as fast as his sand steed would take him. For a while, Arthur stared after him before switching to commander duties and pointing two hundreds of the men-at-arms to the barracks in the port where they could spend the night, other four hundred at the huge watchtower, and led the rest of them to the castle where they would be quartered.

"I'll meet you at midnight," Elvar Sand promised. It was very short time indeed to assembly the men-at-arms of Blackmont but Arthur trusted that he could do it. "And no ravens," he added, repeating the agreement they had arrived at: if this Vulture King was indeed a local, he'd know the routes of the ravens. Messages could be intercepted.

"No ravens," Arthur confirmed. If a change came upon them, they'd make it known through a courier, although that would be considerably slower.

Elvar looked at his brother. "I suppose you'd want to stay here?" he asked.

To Arthur's surprise, Ivorr nodded. "I'll stay."

"Very well," Arthur said and without delay, Elvar, Aegyl, and a small group of men rode off. Arthur led the way to Starfall, Ivorr and Ser Huon flanking him.

"What happened?" Arthur asked as soon as he was sure everything was proceeding as it should.

The old knight who had been here since Arthur's earliest years looked away and heaved a sigh. "We didn't know about this Vulture King," he said.

It was Arthur's turn to heave a sigh – one of relief. If it was all about not being aware of a disturbance…

But Arel would not have reacted like this if it was only a matter of bad organizing.

"The Vulture King only started acting in less than a week," he said, trying to soothe Ser Huon's concern and make him more conversational.

The look he got in reply was nothing short of enormously guilty. "But they aren't here," Ser Huon said. "Don't you know? We didn't know and Lady Allyria went riding as she often does, along with the little lordlings. And now, they aren't here, and we only found Lord Ilon's pony, and we have no idea where they are, we've searched everywhere, the grooms who accompanied them never returned either…"

In Arthur's chest, a cold snake of fear coiled and expanded until it was settled comfortably – making him anything but. "Why weren't we made aware of this?" he snapped. "For how long have they been missing?"

"Two days," the grizzled man replied miserably. "We tried to get in touch, we sent ravens… We organized a search, many searches, and nothing else was found…"

Arthur's brain was working furiously. Granted, he didn't know his youngest sister at all but he knew that she must be well acquainted with the terrain – he, Arel, and Ashara certainly had been at this age, as well as the other children of high birth in the region. And the grooms surely knew the surroundings as well. Getting lost was literally impossible. An accident, maybe? The little lordlings, Ser Huon had said. Only two children fitted that description, and they were both under six. Alynna's son by her late husband and her first son by Arel. The heir of Starfall. Yes, an accident was definitely a possibility. Children were frail. Not experienced riders.

Even so, one of the grooms would have returned to bring help. Arthur supposed that there had been three of them – one for Allyria and two others for the boys. When he asked, Ser Huon confirmed that this had been indeed the case.

"And they knew the terrain?" Arthur demanded.

"Borral was one of them," the knight replied, and the name of the man who had once guided Arthur on his first ventures out of home was answer enough.

The castle rose in front of them, a vision of perfection that nothing could beat, white as a flower of hope whose unfurling revealed a pale red petal – the cobbled square behind the massive gates. Its towers rose, tall and slim, like the shimmering visions that sometimes taunted sailors into the open sea, the gardens created by colours occupied four small rises in the ground. It was so much more lovelier than the cold magnificence of the Red Keep, the place where Arthur's heart had always brought him in his dreams, the place he'd only dreamt of returning to. Despite everything, his heart soared – until he entered the central part and saw the subdued faces of the servants.

"Would you take care of the men we've brought?" he turned to the castellan. The man nodded and Arthur added, "But first, I want you to lead Ser Ivorr to his chambers."

During their ride here, he had realized just why the man had decided against accompanying Elvar to Blackmont. After months in the sea followed by a brief staying ashore and another stormy trip, Ivorr Sand was now almost unable to move his left shoulder and arm. Arthur still remembered how upon meeting them, all those years ago, he had thought that Ivorr and Naeryn must be siblings – she was lacking a hand and he had a deformed arm, withered and visibly shorter than his other. Of course, now he knew that while Naeryn's defect had been present in the womb, Ivorr's was just an unfortunate and all too common result of a difficult birth. Ivorr was lucky in that he could use his arm at all, although with some limitations, but pain and discomfort had been his constant companions since the day he had been born. The sooner he got the chance to rest, the better.

"Thank you," he now said and followed the maidservant who hurried to bring him along.

"Feed our horses as well," Arthur went on, looking at the castellan again. The man gave him a look that he took as "You think I'm stupid?".

"My lord, I will."

It felt weird to hear himself addressed this way, although, of course, that was the style Elia's husband was entitled to. "Where is my brother?" he asked.

The man looked uncertain. "I think he went to the nursery… I'll show you there…"

"No need of that," Arthur snapped, suddenly irritated. "I still know the way."

He headed outside, to the door across the courtyard that would bring him to the part the family dwelled in faster than if he had to walk all the way along the great hall, down the corridor and the covered bridge. Pushing the door open, he entered a large empty antechamber cut by a few staircases. He chose the one on the bottom and ascended, avoiding without thinking the fourth step that had once creaked ominously.

The children's rooms were on the second floor. Arthur pushed the first door, suddenly hesitant, and the first thing he saw was the enormous cradle of golden oak that Alric and Aelinor had purchased at King's Landing. He tiptoed to it and peered, to be met with a pair of black eyes staring at him inquisitively. He held his breath, scared that she'd start screaming and wake up her brother, as well. But instead, she clearly decided that she had given him enough attention and looked somewhere past his shoulder instead while sucking at her brother's fingers. Her own fingers were in his mouth also. A dark head against a silver one, swarthy skin against creamy one – they didn't look like siblings at all. Arthur was sure that should the boy open his eyes, they would be purple, like his father's, instead of Alynna's black orbs. It was so peaceful. He tiptoed back to the door, the thought of disturbing them suddenly becoming the worst thing possible.

Down the hallway, a door was ajar. This time, Arthur entered without fearing that he'd disturb, and felt as if he was crossing the threshold to the past. Two beds, lots of beautifully crafted wooden toys, sunlight filling the room to the brim – it was just as he remembered it. Only, despite the early hour, there were no boys to hide their heads under the pillow in a desperate attempt to prolong their sleep.

"They will be back soon," he said softly.

Arel turned back and looked at him before placing the small horse he was holding on the table. "I hope so," he said. "I really, really hope so."

It didn't look like he had anything to add. Arthur had no idea what to say either.

"Come on," Arel said, suddenly determined. "I want to have a look at Allyria's room."

And it turned out that he meant just what he said. Arthur watched, open-mouthed, as his brother started looking under pillows, taking boxes and emptying them on the floor, upending chairs and looking under their upholstery…

"Don't look at me like this," Arel snapped. "Help me! Try to remember where you used to hide things when you were fourteen…"

Arthur didn't understand immediately and when he did, he couldn't believe it. "You think she has just run away?" he asked. "With… someone? Why would she take the boys then? I don't…"

"No," Arel cut him off. "You clearly don't. She's fourteen, Arthur. Not a child anymore but not with the understanding of a woman either, for all she fancies herself one. She might have made a mistake, trusted someone more than she should have. And if so, it must have backfired somehow. She's fourteen," he said again. "At this age, I was… And you weren't any better either! She might have placed them all into something that she now cannot get them out of."

Arthur's first instinct was to argue that Allyria was a child. But she wasn't, he just hadn't seen her since she had been one. The memory of Harrenhall came to mind. Ashara had been a woman then and yet she had made a mistake that had almost ruined her. How much easier it should be for someone as young as Allyria to make one? But for now, that was only an assumption. "So, you think the Vulture King has nothing to do with it?" he asked.

Arel left the drawer whose content he had been checking and drew a hand across his forehead. "I don't know," he said. "I have no idea what might have happened. But if Allyria had been up to something she shouldn't have been up to, I want to know. That might point us to something. And it's her that I'm most concerned about. With Edric, they can hold me; Ilon gives them a hold over Mikkel. But Allyria? She's nothing but someone who can't hope for anything more than a good match. Whoever has them probably won't hesitate to hurt her the way they would not risk harm the boys… and she's quite protective of the children. If she decides that they are not being treated accordingly… If the man who holds them is this Vulture King…"

He fell silent.

"So, the war might have come to Dorne," Arthur concluded. "It makes no sense! This so called king, he cannot hope to win against Dorne and the other side of the Marches at the same time. He should have waited, gone about it one thing at a time."

"He might not have had a choice," Arel reasoned. "The children might have seen something not meant for their eyes. Sometimes, Allyria rides all the way to the ridge and back. If she saw something…"

"If she recognized someone…" Arthur finished for him. "They might have had no choice but take her."

Arel nodded and returned to his obsessive searching of the room in the desperate hope of finding something that would help them decide which one of the grim possibilities was the right one. Arthur joined him.