Duesal: Plenty of nutjobs but none really by birth. The only "real" one you can argue for is Aerion. As for Fiora Fowler, maybe? Quentyn did consider both Delilah and Jennelyn too, but there remains the issue of Quentyn thinking it's too cruel to sideline his wife for his paramour during their wedding, and the fact that he wants to keep the Yronwoods on a leash, after he helped them gain more power.
Zhorvak: I think it does not simplify the situation at all if it happens.
Phillip: Politics. But Quentyn is thinking more and more about this option with the war coming.
Loksh: Thanks for Review number 1000!
Daenerys
The ride to the Water Gardens was short. So short, in fact, that Daenerys did not need to do it on dragonback.
Especially not since Prince Quentyn would rather keep the dragons far away from the coasts, where they could rampage and kill innocents on the way.
For now, Drogon, Viserion and Rhaegal were hunting off amidst the stormy seas, eventually returning with large bones between their teeth, and it was better for all.
Prince Quentyn offered to take both her and Aegon to the Gardens, in a relaxing few days, before they would sail up the Greenblood to Godsgrace, and rallying Yronwood afterwards to march on the Iron Throne.
A few days of peace and quiet amidst the palm trees, the sound of waves crashing in the distance and the soft chirping of birds.
The Water Gardens themselves appeared in the distance like an illusion in the middle of the desert. All around the place were only dunes and small outposts which looked as if they would collapse at the first gust of wind.
And then, suddenly, as if in a dream, large houses and towers painted red, white and even blue, appeared. Palm trees lined the road to the great residence of the Martells, founded to celebrate the union of her namesake with the prince of Dorne of the time.
Prince Quentyn had told her that the Gardens were the most beautiful place in the World, and she had a tough time arguing with that. Never in her life did she see so many colours, pools and trees.
Everything mixed in a dance of green, red, blue and yellow. The houses lined up each garden, themselves comprised of rows upon rows of various trees: palm trees, blood oranges, olive trees and cacti, all providing a large amount of shade to the large pools which crossed each path and each series of houses in a gigantic labyrinth.
If not for her guides, she could have gotten lost in these many detours, where water seemed to flow out of the sandy ground as if pushed there by some magical force which spontaneously created liquid out of grains of sand.
And at every balcony, at every pool and at every palm tree, there were the astonished faces of the onlookers. Men, women and children alike. A lot of children, as a matter of fact.
The Prince told her that the first Daenerys loved children. She wished for all to come play in the Gardens, be they lowborn or highborn. Since then, the tradition held, and the Gardens seemed to be a haven for the little devils to play in.
Some pools were reserved for older guests, too. Servants, soldiers, riders…it seemed that the Gardens hosted a small army of people, which usually seemed like shadows darting around the place, according to Prince Quentyn.
An army of shadows…that fits Dorne well. A nation of deserts and rough coasts, where nothing is expected to live. And yet, in its heart, these magical places, where life seemed to spring from nothing.
The private gardens were then opened to them, and it was as if another rug was pulled underneath her.
A maze of corridors of white and yellow houses with red roofs lined up before them, with bridges going over the expansive gardens, some of which had water running on the sides, where birds took a bath in the shade of the red shingles.
Everywhere she looked, Daenerys could see pools had been dug, with the still, bright blue water seeming oh so inviting.
It sneered at her, inviting her to jump in without a second thought.
For a moment, she could see herself wanting to jump from one of the small bridges going over the arms of each pool to bathe in the winter sun of Dorne, but refrained from doing so.
There was time for that later, and there were still people around.
She was a Dragon, first of all.
It took some time to realize that the massive pool was actually based on the sigil of House Martell: a giant sun and spear. This one became apparent at its peak, with the unmistakable tip of the spear appearing in front of her as if to show her the way forward.
"The spear points at King's Landing, Your Grace," Prince Quentyn pointed out, seeing her eyes had languished on it a little too long, "to point to whom Dorne now answered."
Past tense? It is true that House Targaryen did not hold King's Landing any more.
Daenerys and Aegon were then escorted to their rooms, on top of a luxurious mansion. Three floors, overlooking the large pool. The first floor was a private feast hall, while the second housed several relaxing rooms, with cushions, pillows, but also a small library and a small sparring room!
As for the third floor, the Martells had kept the best for last.
A room just like the ones prepared for them in Sunspear. A massive bed, larger even than the ones she had slept in in Meereen or Volantis, with cushions decorated with both the Sun and Spear and the Three-Headed Dragon.
Silks from all over the world draped the room, while the bedsheets were embroidered with all kinds of exotic animals.
As for the bathroom, there too, she couldn't help but still be surprised at the genius of it all. Running water, a flushing toilet, bath and shower…such luxury did not exist anywhere else in the world. Not in Volantis, King's Landing or even far away Yi-Ti.
It will be extremely hard to go for something more modest, but Daenerys would do her utmost to make Prince Quentyn send his best men to do the same in King's Landing, and she believed Aegon would not oppose such a project at all.
The curtains were opened for them, revealing the Gardens in all their splendor.
The large blue pools making the sigil of House Martell were now on full display, with a slight breeze slightly ruffling the palm trees.
Over the roofs of the other houses, which were no taller than two floors, one could see the sheer extent of the Gardens, and, even further, the sea, with the waves crashing on a pristine beach.
A door closed, another one opened.
Daenerys had opened the glass one leading to the large balcony, atop of which several pots with various colorful plants had been placed.
She breathed the autumn air, the salt from the sea filling her nostrils.
This was perfect.
"Your Grace?" a voice brought her back to reality, breaking a small joyful moment.
"Yes?" Daenerys answered, turning her head, seeing that only Aegon and Prince Quentyn there.
"Before I take my leave and let you enjoy the Gardens, may I talk with you both for a moment?" the Prince asked with a nonchalant air.
"Of course," Daenerys nodded, eager to see the Prince leave so that she – and Aegon – would finally be free.
"I wished to talk about our future campaign, by talking about the past." Prince Quentyn installed himself in a comfortable chair, while Aegon chose one opposite him.
Daenerys calmly made her way into another one, looking impatiently at the Prince.
"When we will invade the Seven Kingdoms, I expect we will meet resistance, dragons or not," Prince Quentyn started, "some will point out that you are foreign invaders, others will dispute King Aegon being truthful, some will dispute Queen Daenerys' claim, and some might not dispute anything but do not wish to see you rule over them."
"We have dragons, Dorne, the Golden Company, the Unsullied…" Aegon started.
"…and more will join us when we start winning." Daenerys completed.
"I fear that's not exactly going to be easy. The Lannisters and Reachmen will fight against you, and so will Jo…sorry, Daeron Targaryen." The Prince replied in an even tone.
"I'm sure my brother can prove himself reasonable." Aegon shook his head.
"And he will see that he has no chance against us. We will allow his traitor family to live, that is well enough!" Daenerys growled.
"That's exactly what I wished to talk about, Your Grace. His family has legitimate grievances with yours," Prince Quentyn continued, unphased.
"Legitimate?" Daenerys felt herself losing her temper. "When his uncle forced us into exile to Braavos? When he followed the Usurper to bring our family low?"
"But, Your Grace," Prince Quentyn cleared his throat, "what should he have done? What should the Usurper have done?"
"Not rise up in Rebellion?" Daenerys clenched her fists.
"So, they should have cut their own heads and sent them to King Aerys?" Prince Quentyn shook his head, "You say that innocents should not fear injustice. Where was the justice when King Aerys asked for Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark's heads?"
"They were fomenting rebellion!" Daenerys rose from her chair.
"He did have Brandon and Rickard Stark killed." Aegon finally came out of his silence.
"Killed?" Prince Quentyn sighed, "Your Grace if he had them killed, it would have been a mercy."
Daenerys sat back down, eyes circumspect.
"When Brandon Stark came to King's Landing, he was furious. He asked for Rhaegar to 'come out and die' according to some, while he merely asked for justice according to others…" Prince Quentyn started, before Daenerys immediately stopped him.
"He threatened my brother!"
"Well, when said brother does take your sister away, I don't think you are in a situation to react kindly," Prince Quentyn's eyes narrowed, "Arianne and I's relations have not been the best, but if anyone stole her away in the night to detain her far away from Dorne, I would have done much of the same."
Daenerys felt her blood boiling.
"But back to Brandon Stark." Prince Quentyn leaned in his chair. "He was arrested, of course. You don't threaten the heir to the Seven Kingdoms like this. And even less in the presence of the Mad King."
"A lie." Daenerys frowned.
"Is it?" Prince Quentyn continued without skipping a beat. "From the Wall to Sunspear, you will find no one denying it, be they supporters of the Usurper or of your Father."
"Ser Jon told me he once burned a young boy alive for the crime of stealing bread," Aegon nodded, "and once, he had the prisoners in the cells rounded up and burned with wildfire, before dancing to the screams in the middle of the court."
Daenerys' heart clenched. This couldn't be true! Ser Jon Connington was a man loyal and true, he would never slander his King!
"Indeed, and he also had Brandon Stark's companions tortured and killed. Royce, Mallister and Arryn. Three of the most influential families' sons or heirs, killed without the sliver of a trial." The Prince's eyes were dark now. "Only Glover survived. Survived to see the horror that came next."
"Rickard Stark came to speak in his son's defense." Aegon nodded. "Jon told me this."
"Yes, he did. He made a perfect case and even asked for Trial by Combat."
"Who did my father choose? Ser Arthur Dayne?" Daenerys asked.
"Ser Arthur Dayne was away in Dorne with your brother," Prince Quentyn pointed out, "and Ser Gerold Hightower and Ser Oswell Whent."
"Ser Barristan, then?" Daenerys asked, wondering why the knight had not told her so. Shame, perhaps?
"No, Your Grace," Quentyn's voice was like venom spewing out of a viper, now. "Your father chose fire."
"Fire cannot fight a trial." Daenerys scoffed.
"And yet, that is what he chose. And what King Aerys wanted, King Aerys got." Prince Quentyn now mimicked with his hands. "He had Rickard Stark suspended from the rafters of the throne room, above a fire lit by his pyromancers. Then, he had Brandon Stark chained with his hands behind his back, a leather cord wrapped around his neck, attacking a Tyroshi device to it that would squeeze his throat the further you pulled it."
Aegon had gone pale by this point.
"Brandon Stark's legs were left free, and a sword placed just out of his reach." Prince Quentyn's words pierced into Daenerys' soul as her face went from anger to shock. "Rickard Stark was literally cooked alive in his armor, while Brandon Stark strangled himself to death trying to save him."
"This can't be true." Daenerys swallowed. "It just can't. It's horrible!"
"Ask Ser Barristan, Your Grace." Prince Quentyn spoke with an accusing tone. "He was there. He heard the screams. They probably haunt his nightmares."
Why hadn't Ser Barristan told her this? Why? If he was so loyal to her, why wouldn't he tell the truth?
"Your father took the feudal contract, ripped it to shreds and wiped his arse with it, if I may say so, Your Grace," Prince Quentyn sighed, "they more than any other house have reason to wish to stay out of your rule, it is them."
"And I take that King Aerys asked for the heads of Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark after this event?" Aegon asked.
"You are correct, Your Grace." Prince Quentyn nodded, "Jon Arryn could not bear to commit such an act and called his banners."
"But, surely my brother would be the bridge that links both of our houses?" Aegon risked. "After all, we share the same blood, and with our misgivings, he is the living proof that the union between Stark and Targaryen may work!"
"Union?" Prince Quentyn shook his head. "The reason you will find no people spitting on the poor Stark girl's grave here is that we know that she did not go there of her free will. Lyanna Stark was a wild spirit, one that could not bear to be attached to a whoremonger like Robert Baratheon. So she found this silver prince, who filled her head with promises, then took her to a tower far away, raped her and left her to die."
"My father would never do such a thing! Why would he?" Aegon protested.
"Rhaegar was obsessed with prophecies, that much Ser Barristan told you, I believe?"
"Ser Barristan told me that he constantly whispered about the 'Three heads of the Dragon'," Daenerys nodded.
"Indeed. He saw that Elia, gods rest her soul, could not bear him any more children, but he needed his 'third head', as he saw it." Prince Quentyn scoffed, "then he saw Lyanna Stark, the ice to his fire, and just felt like she was the one. It was likely easy to convince her to run off with him, and then, cut from everything she knew, to have his way with her to bear him a Visenya. But Visenya never saw the light of day, and Daeron was born instead. A boy, not a girl, and Rhaegar would never know, since the spurned betrothed caved his chest in at the Battle of the Trident."
"Didn't he love her?" Aegon asked, tears in his eyes, "After all this…"
"Do you really think locking up a woman in a tower with no midwife or maester is caring for someone you love?" Prince Quentyn shook his head, "Prince Rhaegar was the heir to the throne. He easily could've asked anyone to open their doors for him and they would have done so. Instead, he chose a forgotten tower, not even remotely close to Starfall or Skyreach, and left her to die there. Only one thing mattered: his prophecy, and his Visenya."
Aegon went numb, while Daenerys just listened attentively. She almost didn't care anymore.
"And Lyanna Stark?" Prince Quentyn continued, pressing where it hurt. "Did you think she would want to stay in that Tower, after learning of what befell her father and brother? When her other brother was fighting to get her? Do you really think she'd have stayed still and done nothing while her family died?"
"Mayhaps my father did not tell her!" Aegon proudfully said.
Prince Quentyn's face was all it needed to make him turn white.
"My…father…did not…tell…her…" Aegon repeated slowly, the words and implications sinking in.
"And the Kingsguard?" Daenerys instead asked.
"Ah, the honorable Kingsguard." Prince Quentyn scoffed. "Well, after doing nothing about King Aerys' burnings and rapes for years, they all decided to leave and protect this small tower in the middle of nowhere. And then…well, they died. Which is a shame, since the first thing I would have asked Arthur Dayne before shoving my fist in his balls is whether or not he held Lyanna Stark down when she fought…and then ask him where he was when Elia was killed before I made him eat all of his pretty white cloak to the last crumb."
"My father raped? Who?" Daenerys asked.
"Your mother." Prince Quentyn's eyes did not leave hers. "Brave soul, Rhaella Targaryen. May the gods take care of her, she needs a rest, after all that your father made her suffer through. Ask Ser Barristan! That useless old hag can well find a use for something. He knows! He knows and he stands there, like he's always done!"
Daenerys and Aegon watched silently as Prince Quentyn's temper flared down, bringing his eyes to the ground, then to them.
"I shall take my leave now, Your Graces, but remember," he spoke softly once again, "this conquest will not be easy. While some do fight for power, others do not wish to be ruled by a Targaryen again, for all the right reasons. Enjoy your stay in the Gardens."
With that, Prince Quentyn was gone.
She stared silently at Aegon for a few moments, breathing in, and heard the door open and close, once again.
It was Ser Barristan, in his shining white armor.
"You asked for me, Your Grace?" he asked.
Aegon looked confused, but Daenerys just looked him straight in the eyes and asked, "Did my father have Rickard and Brandon Stark killed?"
The question seemed to have awoken something in the old knight, who struggled to articulate the words.
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Is it true he burned Rickard Stark alive in his armor while Brandon Stark strangled himself to death?"
The tone was accusatory, as Daenerys slowly rose from her chair.
"Yes, Your Grace." Ser Barristan's answer was quicker now.
"Then, why did you not tell me?" Daenerys walked to him with fire in her eyes.
"I try…to forget, Your Grace. I wished I had banished the thoughts, the screams, and the silence of the room when it was all over." Ser Barristan shook his head.
"And my mother? Was she raped by my father? Did you stand at the door and do nothing?"
"Your Grace, I…"
"ANSWER ME!"
"Yes, Your Grace."
Daenerys scoffed and looked at him with disdain.
"Get out of my sight." Her voice was like a growl.
Ser Barristan bowed, leaving the room, followed by Daenerys' angry gaze.
They had lied!
Again!
Viserys and Barristan! All of them were liars and false!
"WHY!" she cried out with her fist to the skies.
Aegon's touch soon brought her back to reality. He looked at her with a gentle air, bringing her into a hug, while she slowly cried on his shoulder.
"Why, Aegon…why did they all lie to me…" she sobbed slowly.
"To protect you…to not overwhelm you with bad images…" Aegon tried to find words but failed miserably at it, "perhaps because they themselves preferred to ignore that it happened."
"And…" Daenerys' watery eyes met his, "would you lie to me, Aegon?"
"Never." Aegon shook his head. "You are my world."
He dropped to kiss her on the lips.
She shivered.
It made her feel a little better, but then reminded herself of something.
"Come, let's bathe in the pools, I know you want to," Aegon encouraged her.
"I need to tell you something," Daenerys told him with a sad face.
"It can wait till we're in the water, no?" Aegon laughed.
Daenerys sighed, but smiled slightly.
The two of them went down the staircase, not even sparing a look at Ser Barristan as they did so.
They found themselves alone in the vast garden, with only a few guards in white being seen in the corner of their eyes.
Aegon jumped in the water first, hitting it with a large wave of water in his wake, ruining her red dress with splashes.
"It's so warm…" Aegon laughed.
Daenerys smiled and disrobed herself, joining Aegon in the blue waters of the Dornish pool.
Aegon looked her up and down with amazement.
"You know," he said, with an awkward smile, "I still just can't believe how beautiful you are."
Daenerys walked up to him with a small smile of her own, water rising up to her waist, putting her hands on Aegon's shoulders.
"Thank you," she simply replied.
"What is it you wanted to say?" Aegon asked.
"If there are no secrets between us, then I must warn you," Daenerys sighed, "I may not bear children again."
Aegon looked at her, confused.
"A witch told me that I could only bear children when the sun rises in the west and sets in the east, that…"
"A witch?" Aegon laughed. "And what good is the word of an old witch? We are dragons, we do not care about what a witch says!"
Daenerys smiled at him, pushing him against the edge of the pool.
"I…I just wanted you to know. That if my womb does not quicken, it may not be your fault."
"Dany, it's been three days since we were wed, we have time to try." Aegon ran his hand through her silver hair.
"Yes…" she looked up at him, "we should try. How about now?"
"N…"
Before Aegon had a chance to speak, Daenerys' lips were on his, pushing him towards the edge of the pool.
He broke it, and smiled slightly.
"I love you." Aegon whispered before their lips came crashing again.
Aegon was right. Damn Mirri! Damn prophecies and damn everything!
Everyone had lied to her, and with Aegon by her side, she would prove that.
They would try and try and try again. Her womb would quicken, and then, they would build a dynasty to last thousands of years.