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Suns and Storms

As Smooth as Rough Waters

As they rode into the first yard, Alric saw the astounded faces staring at him. He hadn't been expected and he didn't look like the man who had left the Water Gardens about a year ago. Out of habit, he stood straighter and lifted his chin, trying to give whatever impression of his usual vitality he could and the haughty inscrutability a man in his position couldn't have survived about. He wasn't surprised when haughtiness came to him easier than vitality.

Carral rose slightly in his saddle and held up a hand to command attention. "Victory!" he cried out. "The pirates are no more. Their dens were burned to the ground and their filthy leaders are now suffering their punishment in the deepest of the seven hells!"

Leaving them to shout and rejoice, and spread the great news around about the same time the Princess' Council was probably being summoned to be appraised of it in Sunspear, he turned to his brother. Alric looked extremely wan and worn out. Only the steel that passed for his will held him in the saddle since Carral knew that the hard ride could not have soothed the back pains his brother had also developed in the last year.

"Wait," he said in low voice as he dismounted. "Don't try to do it on your own."

Alric grinded his teeth but he knew that should he try to dismount on his own, he might find himself flat on his face, for all the cooperation Flame was giving him. Won't this damned stomach go back up in place already? Blessed with robust health until a year ago, he had always scoffed at the idea that he should be serving his body and making it feel comfortable. Now he realized that maybe he ought to have done a little serving. Then again, how could he have achieved it while besieging the beasts? He leaned heavily against Carral and felt relief upon finding himself safely aground.

Filled with dark foreboding as they walked towards the inner parts of the residence, Carral nonetheless smiled when he heard the noise the children were producing around the pools, and tried to single his own children's voices out. Alric also smiled and did the same.

The castellan of the Water Gardens dragged himself heavily toward them. Carral had known the short plump man for years, knew his boundless energy. Now, though, he was walking so slowly that Carral wondered whether he hoped they'd disappear somehow before he reached them. "My lord," Ser Gotfred said in a low voice, making an equally low bow. "Welcome home. I'll summon the Princess…"

The way the man avoided his eyes told Alric all he needed to know. Maybe he had already known it, since the moment he first spoke of home and Carral averted his eyes. Why else would he have descended upon poor Ranna like this? It had been as if he had been pulling a tooth out of her mouth, so reluctant she had been to tell him anything. But now he discovered that he didn't need to ask anyone else about anything. Ser Gotfred's pale, horrified face was an answer in itself.

"There is no need," Alric said in a low voice, so only the castellan would hear him. "I'll find her on my own… as well as him."

"I can… I can fetch him for you, my lord," Ser Gotfred suggested eagerly. Maybe if the boy was brought to Lord Alric like the guilty party he was, bloodshed could still be avoided. He wasn't sure, though. His lady had never installed another man in her home. Maybe he was important enough for her to fight her husband over him. Maybe this insolent lad from the Reach would be the one who could put an end to Lady Arianne's lifelong devotion to her husband, one that the castellan found unexplainable, given all the men who had passed through her bed.

"There's no need," Alric said curtly. "I can still find someone in those Gardens. As rumour has it, he isn't exactly trying to stay unnoticeable."

Their men looked between him and Carral, silently asking for instructions what they should be doing now. "Feed our men," Carral told the castellan. "And the horses. And," he added in a low voice, "have some new horses prepared for us."

He wanted everything to be ready just in case. Then, he hurried after his brother and fell in step.

"You can go away," Alric said without looking at him. "Go to the pools. I know you're as eager to see your children as I am to see mine."

I'd rather make sure yours aren't left motherless, Carral thought. He had never seen his brother like this. But then, Arianne had never made such a colossal blunder either.

A fast look showed them that there were only children around the pools. Without hesitation, Alric headed for the place someone not used to the heat in Dorne was most likely to pass the afternoons – the small wood near the walls in the far end of the grounds, near the place where the springs feeding the pools issued from.

The walk was a long one, for the Water Gardens was not a small dwelling. Right now, Carral wished it was longer.

I used to take Ranna here for walks, he remembered. He knew that Alric and Arianne also liked coming here on their own – or had liked? He looked at his brother's stony profile and wondered whether Alric would ever see the forest, the pools, the Water Gardens the same way again.

"Are you carrying tidings for the war?"

They turned around and faced the young man who had come into view. Dressed in a light tunic and breeches, he had left his fair hair flow freely. Clearly, he had recently practiced with someone, for he was still adjusting the scabbard of his sword to his belt. Playing at war, Alric and Carral both thought, the memory of the very real war they had carried out plaguing them with power that had yet to abate. Alric could vividly imagine what other games he was playing at! He was acutely aware that at the moment, he could offer Arianne none of it even if he wanted to – which he didn't. In this moment, his only desire was to close his hands about her throat and squeeze! But the fact remained that he could give her nothing in bed, that he was unable to meet her passion, that he just needed to feel the warmth of her near him, to be held and made much of. Pathetic.

The newcomer looked at them and frowned. "Have you got lost?"

"No," Alric said so evenly that Carral startled. "But maybe you have."

Something about his lack of expression startled the boy, too. And he was a boy. Just a few years older than Doran, they thought.

The burst of anger was so swift that Alric's hand was on the hilt of his own sword before he realized what was going on. Artos Ambrose did the same, his eyes narrowed, watchful, and baffled.

"Father! Uncle!"

They all turned to the boy who came running from between the marble columns of the garden.

"I saw you from the pools," Oberyn explained breathlessly as he came to a halt before them. "Why didn't you come?"

Now, Artos Ambrose drew his blade out fully; suddenly overwhelmed by exhaustion that he had never felt before in his thirty-odd years on this earth, Alric pushed his own back in. He couldn't kill the boy in front of Oberyn; and when his son looked at him expectantly, he realized that he couldn't give him the usual greeting. He could not grab him and throw him in the air – should he lean over, he'd just crumble and stay there, as much from the pains wracking his body as the sense of betrayal that had numbed his limbs and was slowly making his icy way into his soul.

"Father?" Oberyn said again and there was fear in his voice, confusion in his eyes. He could see how changed his father was and he didn't understand what was going on.

"Go to your mother," Alric said in a voice he didn't recognize as his own. "I'll send for you soon."

His son didn't move, paralyzed with fear, although he could not possibly understand what was going on. Arianne would come soon – and all of a sudden, Alric felt a deep fear gripping him, breaking the numbness. Should he see her, he'd do something he'd regret till the end of his life.

"I…" the boy started.

Alric didn't pay him any mind. He just turned and walked away, leaving both Carral and the Reach boy stunned. A moment later, Carral hurried after him. Oberyn stayed where he was, staring after them, before turning to look at Artos Ambrose. "See?" he said. "You must leave now. Finally."

"Impossible!"

Arianne burst from her chair and descended upon the castellan who stepped back fearfully. But the horror written on his face told her that it was not only possible but reality. The news of the end of the war had reached her barely minutes ago and she had started making preparations… one of which was sending Artos to pack off as soon as he returned. Alric had not been supposed to return first.

He's going to be very angry, she thought. Up until now, they had never flaunted their affairs in front of each other. But maybe there was still time… The Water Gardens was a big residence. She could still avoid a meeting between Alric and Artos. But Ser Gotfred's expression was a sign that there was no time. Alric already knew what had transpired here in his absence – and he was clearly not taking it well. But then, why would he? Arianne knew his pride better than anyone else. I should have been more discreet, she thought regretfully. Now, she'd need time to work things out with him. A furious quarrel was not how she wanted to greet him after a year and eighteen days of parting but she couldn't see how it could be avoided.

"Bring my lord here," she ordered.

The man looked at her confused. "Which lord?"

Now, it was Arianne's turn to be confused, and then her anger lashed out on the poor castellan's head. "What do you mean, which lord? What would I do with that lad? Bring my lord here immediately!"

He gave her a long hopeless look. "My lord is gone," he said and in reply to her look of stunned incomprehension said it once again. "Lord Alric and his brother, and their people… they left the Water Gardens a few minutes ago. He only said that he'd send for Princess Elia and Prince Oberyn to be brought to him later."

The shock jolted her body with such force that she had to reach for the nearest chair and steady herself. "He's gone? How?"

"He refused to stay even to take refreshments which he clearly needs desperately," Ser Gotfred explained. "He… he came to see…"

"I see." Arianne's voice was low and shaking. "Thank you, Ser Gotfred. You may go."

Alone in her study, she sank down in a chair and tried to think of a way to make things right. She had never thought that Alric might object to her bringing Artos here – it wasn't as if she had been planning to keep him around after her husband's return. When she had Alric, she didn't need anyone else. Surely he understood it, knew that the affair meant nothing for their marriage? But the castellan's words haunted her nonetheless, his confusion as to who "her lord" was. Had others taken it this way, too? Had Alric? I went too far, she realized and felt that her teeth started to clatter. She looked at the door, hoping that Ser Gotfred had been wrong, that her husband would enter any minute now, shaking with rage. But he didn't.

He'd send for Princess Elia and Prince Oberyn to be brought to him later.

Her heart sank.

He couldn't have meant it. He couldn't have. Even in their worst quarrels, he had never turned his back on her. He had always been at her side, even when all they did was fight.

Arianne raised a shaking hand to wipe the cold sweat from her brow. Her skin met something rustling. The tidings of the victory that she still held. The news that the pirates had been finally defeated. It all looked so bleak now compared to the danger looming over her. I can't lose him. I can't. Alric who had shared her life since childhood, Alric with his haughtiness, pride, sharp wit, and devotion to her. She couldn't lose him. No. Anything but that.

Surely he wouldn't let a single mistake tear them apart? A single blow to his pride, no matter how great, could not be enough to make him turn away from her?

He's just stunned, she thought and felt a little better. He didn't expect it. Soon, his numbness will pass and he'll barge in here to have it out with me.

Little did she know that in this moment, Carral Gargalen was looking at his brother in horror, praying that they'd make it to Salt Shore without Alric passing out, and insisting that they return to the Water Gardens where Alric could be attended.

Alric didn't even bother to give him a look. "Forget about it," he spat. "I know what you're thinking about and no, if I do pass out, you do not get to make the decisions. Conscious or not, I am not going back there. Maybe now you'll hurry up?"