osterreicher: Following canon Marge. She's a lot more naive than in her show version, where she's presented as younger Olenna. Margaery is aware of the strengths and weaknesses of her house, but she's also not that good at assuming other people can counter her moves.
Sage: At the very least, Quentyn is contemplating an option to get Sansa out. It wasn't planned, but if he can help her get out of KL and avoid her staying with Baelish, he will.
Kuman: Fixed for the heart tree. Marge isn't delusional. As someone mentioned, she's more blinded than anything else, thinking the law of the strongest applies (especially when dealing with Dorne).
Guest: The Lannisters and Tyrells think that with Joffrey and Margaery's wedding, everything will just calm down. They will be proven wrong.
Guest2: Sewer and plumbing are part of Quentyn's plans to renovate Sunspear. More on that later. No specific "Dornish Order of Maesters", Quentyn is fine keeping the current system, he's just leveraging Qyburn's dislike for them to get what he wants from him. As shown in a lot of chapters, Quentyn is the "prince by default", and Doran is basically a figurehead, which Doran obviously doesn't like. However, just like canon Doran, every decision he takes just exacerbates the hatred Dorne has for him, and Quentyn is exceptionally good at adapting. As for not caring for non-Dornish, that's not exactly true. Quentyn cares about non-Dornish, but acknowledges he does not have the resources to properly help them, and to have such resources would mean paying too high of a price (the IT never has been in his plans).
baka: Thanks! I also prefer the noSI POV, with characters interacting around the MC instead of the other way around. It's a lot more fun to write.
ATP: Would he? You're right in saying the Tyrells still have cause to get rid of Joffrey for sure.
Guest3: Mostly because it's Cersei doing the torturing. Because of Jaime's loss, Cersei became unhinged earlier, which meant Kevan then Tywin also had a chance of "excluding" her a lot earlier. Joffrey just went along with it, well because he's a little shit. Quentyn has a target list. More on that in this chapter. Also, yes, the Dornish are the most obvious candidates to get the blame out of a Purple Wedding scenario. Can't be that easy, can it?
exillion: Probably late to answer this. Inspired from the river crossing in "A Bridge too far". Quentyn is using a prayer as a way of controlling the pace of his sword, in order to not tire with erratic movements. "Hail mary" - raise, "Full of grace" - plunge.
Cletus
Cletus adjusted his doublet, making sure that he was perfectly presentable. Appearances mattered a great deal in the capital of the Seven Kingdoms, and the heir to Yronwood was under scrutiny after all.
Of course, this time, there were advantages. Because Quentyn and prince Oberyn were here, he was eclipsed, but because so many Dornishmen had joined the party, he was hardly even bothered, since there were so many other important guests.
This left Cletus with his hands completely free to do whatever he liked. Especially since Quentyn chose to stay around his uncle. He could have scoffed at the fact that Quentyn was touring the whorehouses of the capital, but he understood why he chose to stay with Prince Oberyn.
In the meantime, this allowed him to delve into the personalities of the Red Keep. He hardly shared the other Dornishmen's desire to provoke the Reachers and Westerlanders. He had had his share during the stay at Bitterbridge, and such a game became tiring. No, this time he had been well-behaved, for Dornish standards.
At it had paid off. By now, he had been able to come to know quite a great deal of people in the Red Keep itself. Not the Westerlanders, of course, but the Reachers themselves.
Actually, not even the Reachers.
The Reacher ladies.
But it was a start!
Especially since he had friendly relations with a lot of Lady Margaery's handmaidens, most of which fawned over him, and he did not reject this attention.
Although, he had to be careful. After all, they all were roses, and roses had thorns.
Cletus wasn't completely stupid. He knew the games that were played in the capital and knew that there were essentially no rules. Everyone talked with a flowery voice, but secretly held daggers behind their back. Dorne knew how to play this game too, ever since the days of Queen Myriah.
And so, Cletus had to be careful of what he said and did. To avoid compromising the Dornish position in the great game, especially since he talked to people so close to the queen-to-be.
A sudden strong smell of perfume suddenly grasped at his throat.
Speaking of avoiding trouble…
"Ser Cletus, what a wonderful surprise!"
Stay calm, Cletus, stay calm…and smile.
"Lord Varys." He nodded and smiled.
If there was ever a man Cletus did not want to run into, it was him. Varys was fat, bald, and plump, and spoke in a pitched voice that did not hide the fact that he was a eunuch. However, the man also knew a great deal, whether it is about him or other people. And if Cletus knew anything about the game these people played, the man also probably hid a lot more. And that made him extremely dangerous.
Cletus liked to pride himself on his tongue, he would need to hold it on a tight leash this time around.
"I am glad to have found a Dornishman to talk to." The Lysene – or was it Tyroshi? – man almost giggled. "It is quite interesting, you know. Everyone talks about you, but I have not spoken to a single one of you. I have not had the pleasure of talking to either Martells, yet."
I wonder why…
"I fear there is not much to say, Lord Varys." Cletus hoped the answer would allow to shrug the eunuch off. It didn't.
"No?" Lord Varys asked in a surprised voice. "A host of Dornishmen appears in the capital, wreaks havoc, and amidst them both the prince of Dorne's brother and his heir? Now, now, Ser Cletus, I think that there is a lot to say, on the contrary!"
"Perhaps…" Cletus shrugged. "I've only been invited; I fear I know nothing of what the princes prepare."
"Ah, but you know enough to say they are preparing something."
Fuck you, Cletus, you dumb idiot. You let your tongue take you places again. And this time, the taste of it won't be sweet.
"Don't look at me like that." The Spider laughed. "All of the capital knows they are preparing something. But what, I wonder…it is true that Prince Quentyn has been spending almost all of his time with his uncle ever since his arrival. A lot of rumors are flying…"
"Baseless, as you probably know." Cletus did his best to keep a smile on his lips.
"Of course. What kind of Master of Whispers would I be if I trusted every single rumor? After all, this city can announce one person to be a murderer in the morning and the purest person in the known world in the evening!" the eunuch laughed again. "I trust only what my little birds tell me."
"Then I fail to see how I may be of help." Cletus frowned.
"Help? Now, now, Ser Cletus…" the eunuch smiled. "I am the one who wishes to help you."
Cletus stood confused for a moment and inwardly shook his head.
Be careful.
"Help me?" Cletus looked at him with a disdainful eye. "I do not see how you could be of help."
"There has been talk, amidst the Reachers, my little birds tell me…of wishing harm to prince Quentyn." The eunuch started.
"The Reachers." Cletus looked surprised. "What do the Reachers want?"
"You don't know?" Varys asked, humming slightly. "All the time with the Tyrell girls didn't give you a hint?"
"Get to the point, Lord Varys." Cletus sighed.
"To the point…well, the Reachers do not appreciate your prince fawning over Lady Margaery. They see in it an act of seduction in order to draw her away from an alliance with the Lannisters."
"He's not fawning." Cletus raised an eyebrow. "Much less seducing."
"Oh, he isn't!" the Master of Whispers shook his head. "But there are others who think otherwise. I would advise you to keep your friend out of harm's way."
"Harm? They wouldn't dare."
"Many thought they were invulnerable within these walls before…" Varys shook his head. "Good men. Honorable men. Despicable men. They all fell down."
Cletus looked confused and annoyed. If there was an attempt on the prince's life, could this man just not say so?
"How?" he asked.
"I fear I do not know."
Liar.
"When?" Cletus continued, impassable.
"I heard them talking about acting today when the prince will regain his rooms." Varys shrugged. "All the same, they are well guarded, I hear. Good day, Ser Cletus."
With that, the eunuch disappeared with astonishing speed and left him alone in the corridors of the Red Keep.
Cletus frowned. Was the eunuch lying? If he was, what would be the point? He could just as well shrug this off, but if Quentyn's life was in danger, he could not take the chance and at least make him aware of that fact.
And what would he gain if he wasn't lying? Their sympathy? Hardly something a lot of men would want, especially when the Tyrells owned the capital.
Cletus continued to think but in vain. He could find nothing.
Oh, well.
Better find Quentyn and tell him. Can't be too careful.
It was then that a feminine voice cut in.
"Cletus!"
The heir to Yronwood breathed a sigh of relief at it being an actual girl for once. One of Lady Margaery's ladies-in-waiting, in fact.
The girl was four-and-ten namedays, or a little over that, had a slender figure, brown hair, and willowy brown eyes. She wore a light green dress embroidered with hundreds of little roses, leaving little to no doubt to where she hailed from. Her hair was flowing down to her elbows, being freshly cut, and she smelled of lavender.
"Good afternoon, Alla." He smiled back. "How fare you and the girls?"
"Oh, I'm fine!" she giggled, quickly closing the gap between him and her. "Ser Garlan has finally arrived at the capital!"
"Oh." Cletus nodded. "I hear he is a good fighter."
"Oh, the best!" Alla replied with stars in her eyes, before her smile fell slightly. "Ever since Ser Loras died…"
Cletus shifted uncomfortably. Luckily, Alla quickly got her emotions under control and giggled.
"But you should have seen Ser Garlan at the morning spar!" she almost jumped in excitement. "He dispatched every opponent, sometimes many at once!"
"He sounds talented." Cletus nodded.
"I had hoped you would face him, but I didn't see you there." She continued, with a disappointed look.
"I was a bit tired, and slightly occupied." Cletus laughed nervously.
Occupied at trying to get out of bed with the splitting headache he had because of how he tried to show the Tyrell girls how much he could drink. Turns out, a contest with his cousin Arch was the last thing he needed. And he doubted the girls were impressed by that sort of feat anyways.
"Oh, that's fine." Alla shrugged. "He's staying a while, probably. You'll have your chance!"
"Why did you come to me, exactly?" Cletus tried to not-so-subtly change the subject.
"Oh, Lady Margaery wants a bunch of embroideries for this afternoon, but they're stuck on a really high shelf and I cannot reach them. Can you help me, my Dornish knight?" she pleaded playfully.
Cletus laughed.
"How can I refuse a pretty maiden's wish?" Cletus replied teasingly. "It's no dragon-slaying, but if it will earn my lady's favour..."
Alla giggled and took his arm, leading him down the twists and turns of the keep.
"How are the other girls?" Cletus asked.
"Oh, all well." Alla smiled back. "Ser Garlan has brought many knights and boys we have not seen for a while from Highgarden, a lot are eager to meet them again. We've grown up with them in Highgarden, you know? Elinor in particular will be very eager to meet her betrothed, an Ambrose knight, really sweet."
"I'm glad for her. She said a lot of good about him." Cletus nodded.
"Oh, he's quite cute as well." Alla laughed. "There were also a few ladies in there."
"More ladies-in-waiting?" Cletus looked at her with wide eyes. "How many does Lady Margaery need?"
"Oh, not a lot. Just a dozen or so. A lot are coming just for the wedding." Alla shrugged, holding a door for him to enter.
The Tyrell girl then pointed to a shelf on top of which were stacked cloth and fabrics of various colours.
"Damn, they did put them really high up…" Cletus frowned.
Alla only nodded.
"You know," she continued while Cletus got a stool to stand on in order to reach the top of the shelf, which was decidedly very high. "Among Ser Garlan's party, there was Lord Lorent Caswell and his daughters."
Cletus nearly fell from his stool, but kept his composure. Slowly, he grabbed the pile of cloth and descended from his vantage point.
"Oh?" he feigned ignorance.
"Do you know Lady Helena Caswell?" she asked sweetly.
"We've met." Cletus nodded, trying not to blush. "Did she say anything?"
"Only that you had a good tongue." Alla shrugged. "What did you say to her?"
Cletus breathed a huge sigh of relief.
"A lot of things." Cletus nodded at her. "Do you want me to carry this somewhere?"
"Oh, that would be splendid!" she reacted with that wicked smile of hers.
The things we do for girls…
Alla quickly led him out of the room and towards another maze of hallways.
"Is Lady Margaery doing fine?" Cletus asked, trying to make conversation on the way.
"Oh, lovely!" Alla replied. "She spent some time with prince Quentyn yesterday."
"They get along?" Cletus asked.
"Very well!" Alla energetically replied. "They are such a cute couple! I mean…they look like it, anyways. They look so good together. It's a shame Lady Margaery will wed Joffrey instead; the prince looks a lot cuter and a lot nicer!"
"I fear the prince is also taken." Cletus coughed.
"Yes, yes." Alla sighed. "I know better than anyone. He and his cousin really love each other."
"Oh, you've seen it?" he asked.
"Well, not seen rather than heard." Alla laughed. "My rooms are directly adjacent to theirs and they can get loud."
"I can ask them to tone it down. A girl like you doesn't need to hear such things."
"No need." Alla waved him off. "My slumber is heavy. Although if someone invited me to their rooms, I wouldn't say no…"
"If they disturb you too much, you can always come to mine." Cletus replied while Alla held another door open for him, pointing at a large table in the middle of it. "Arch snores sometimes, but we have another bed that no one uses, and Arch often guards the prince's rooms at night anyways."
Alla smiled as she took the cloths and put them on the table.
"That would be nice!" the Tyrell girl smiled widely. "I know where they are, are they open all the time?"
"Uh…" Cletus trailed uncomfortably. How did she know? "Yes…"
"Great!" she put the last cloth down on the table. "Thank you for everything!"
"It was my pleasure, Alla." Cletus nodded and made to leave.
"Oh, I almost forgot!" Alla quickly stopped him before he had stepped out of the room.
"What?" Cletus asked.
She closed the distance, coming within close quarters, and stood on her toes, placing a small kiss on his cheek.
"Your reward." She winked.
"Thank you." Cletus did his best not to blush. "Have a lovely afternoon."
"I'll see you later, Yronwood!" she cried out as he finally stepped out of the room.
Finally, Cletus could breathe. Damn, that girl was on fire all the time! He'd never seen a ball of energy like her. And to say her cousins told him Alla was shy and reserved, it seems around him she was nothing but nervous and bursting with energy.
And it was hard to see where she was getting at. Cletus wondered…she was really pretty, had such a sweet voice, had flowered, showed attraction to him…but she was a bit young, and a Tyrell too. He had to be careful with these ones.
Looking at the sky, which was now obscured by a bunch of grey clouds, Cletus made his way towards Quentyn's rooms. He would pass on the eunuch's message, then hopefully take a bath. He'd been running through the Keep's halls all day.
Luckily, as he arrived, the prince's doors had guards around them, meaning they were most certainly back from whatever errand they had run in the city.
Nodding to the guards, Cletus quickly entered the room…and screeched to a halt when a dagger whiffed past his nose and went to rest on the wall to his right.
"Seven hells, Cletus, ever heard of knocking?" Quentyn cried out.
"Em….eh….door….not….locked…" Cletus was trembling like a leaf, not even looking away from the dagger that had passed a step away from him.
"Thankfully the target was far." Quentyn's cousin ran past him, taking the dagger out of a makeshift target planted on the wall.
"And you're getting better," Quentyn replied slyly.
"I always just was this good." Nymeria shrugged. "Now I'm perfect."
Cletus slowly closed the door behind him, trying to register what the fuck just happened.
"What in the seven hells are you two doing?" he asked, his heart thumping inside of his chest.
"Preparing Avalanche." Quentyn cryptically replied.
"Which is?" Cletus asked.
"Something which you don't need to be aware of." The snake frowned. "What are you doing here, Yronwood?"
"Coming to warn Quentyn of a danger on his life, Sand," Cletus growled.
"What else is new?" Quentyn sighed. "It's been like this every single day in this wretched city. Not a single moment in the day where I have to look behind me, wondering how they'll try. I can't wait for father to stop acting like an idiot and recall me home, the sooner the better!"
"You're cute when you're angry." The snake almost giggled.
"I'm not angry!" Quentyn fired back. "I'm just...well...alright, fine, I'm angry!"
"But this is different! Apparently they are supposed to act today." Cletus shrugged, eyeing a flagon of wine, quickly pouring himself a drink.
He hummed as he observed the glass. Arbor Red. Not as good as a Dornish Red, but it would do.
Quentyn's eyes widened, and he rushed towards Cletus, slapping the glass out of his hand, its contents spilling on the floor.
"What was that for?" Cletus exclaimed.
"Did you ask for this to be brought up?" he asked the snake.
The Sand Snake narrowed her eyes, and then slowly realized where Quentyn was going with it.
"No…" she shook her head. "Haven't drank anything. All their wine is from the Reach and it's fucking piss if you ask me."
"Well, I haven't either." Quentyn frowned. "Which means…"
"Who the fuck put this here…" the snake trailed, approaching Cletus' now empty glass, pouring herself some more.
She then observed the puddle at Cletus' feet. To his horror, the puddle had turned a quite nasty gray. The snake just frowned and hummed the mixture.
"Do you know what's in there?" Quentyn asked while Cletus' color was slowly draining from his face.
"Not exactly." She replied. "It seems to be quite a mixture. One thing is for sure, it's a deadly one."
She then smirked right at Cletus, who had gone completely white.
"I would hold off on drinking this piss, Yronwood." She emptied the glass out of the window but kept the flagon. "Unless you want to go meet your ancestors early, of course."
"That's not…funny…" Cletus was visibly shaking.
"Well, poison certainly fits the Lannisters." Quentyn sighed.
"It's not them!" Cletus tried to straighten up, although he still was visibly shocked.
"What?" the snake asked.
"It's not them." Cletus shook his head. "It's the Reachers! They think you are too close with Lady Margaery and think you want to seduce her."
"Wouldn't that be a sight?" Quentyn scoffed.
"She'd be too tender for our bed." The snake laughed.
"Alla said you two looked cute together, some people might draw the wrong conclusions!" Cletus defended himself.
"I thought we've been over this." Quentyn sighed. "Stop taking the Tyrells at their word."
"Eh." The snake shrugged. "It's obvious that one really likes your friend, so that might actually just be the truth."
"Well, he has to be careful lest he finds himself flung headfirst into the stables, that's what Margaery told me." Quentyn's eyes narrowed.
"And who is taking the Tyrells at their word now?" Cletus scoffed.
"Alright, enough." Quentyn's eye twitched. "Who in the seven hells told you the Reachers were after me?"
"The Spider."
Quentyn sighed heavily.
"Of course, it's fucking Varys. It's always Varys." He pinched his upper nose.
"Isn't he part of one of your plans?" the snake asked.
"Torch. Varys is Torch." Quentyn replied. "Him and his little friend."
"You should really drop the silly names." His cousin shook her head.
"I like them!" Quentyn replied. "Besides, it sounds better than the-super-secret-plan-no-one-can-talk-about-number-twenty-five."
"Fine." She shrugged. "Should we put your little plan into motion earlier?"
"No." Quentyn said in a low voice. "People would start to understand. We have to act when the moment is right."
"I exist." Cletus coughed.
"Shut up, Cletus!" the two voiced in unison.
Cletus just held up both his arms in surrender.
"I'm sorry, I was just trying to be a good friend and warn you of the attempt on your fucking life."
"It is appreciated." Quentyn nodded.
"That's it?" Cletus asked.
"Listen, Cletus." Quentyn sighed. "I'm under a lot of pressure, and someone just tried to fucking kill me."
"I know! I nearly died too." Cletus cried out, dumbfounded.
"I know…" Quentyn nodded. "But…I need to figure this out quickly and silently. And I need to be alone. Can you please…leave us. We'll talk later."
Cletus stood there, clearly in shock. But when it became clear that Quentyn was not joking, he reluctantly stepped out of the room.
Clearly angry and bitter, Cletus paced back to his rooms, had a bath and ate dinner without a word, Quentyn keeping to both his uncle, his lover…and Arch of all people!
Since he wasn't important enough to be included in this, he was going to go back to his rooms early and lock Arch out. He could play guard dog if he wanted to.
When he returned, the sight of a thinly-clad Tyrell girl on his bed startled him. By all accounts, according to Quentyn, he should have not indulged in anything.
"Cletus." Alla teased. "Care to talk to me like you did to that Caswell girl?"
Cletus tried to resist, but the sight of a pretty maiden in his bed was just too much to bear.
However, after today's events, Cletus needed to feel alive. And Alla Tyrell was more than enough for him to feel just that.
He quickly kissed her deeply, running his hands through her brown curls, while she shed her dress, showing all of her form to him.
"You're my first." Alla confessed, looking him in the eyes with her own sweet, brown eyes. "But I hear the Dornish are good teachers. Make love to me, please."
Cletus could not resist such a sweet voice, and gave in to her wishes. After a few hours, he could feel their hearts pacing rapidly while she collapsed on top of him, rapidly falling asleep, her heart beating over his chest, her head tugged into the crook of his neck.
Running a hand through her brown hair, he could not help but think that he had found a rose without thorns.
For once, Cletus went to sleep with a wide smile on his face.
