Kuman: Well it certainly makes the playing field easier, and I'm surprised not a lot of SIs just get rid of them from the outset. They're probably the most dangerous opponents you can get.
Sage: That was certainly Quentyn's goal, but will Oberyn finally take the hint is another question.
Halfblood: Chapter after this one.
Guest: Oberyn was likely too stunned or not wanting to reply to someone of his family. He could take criticism, but when it comes from someone of your own blood, it becomes that much harder to respond, ego or not. Perhaps once things have cooled down they could have some kind of civil conversation, but Quentyn and Oberyn have a very rocky relationship. As for Varys, he was indeed killed offscreen, same as Baelish. Fitting end for those two characters who act in the shadows to get killed in them.
Great: Nah, too much of a bother. If you don't want to read the comments, just skip, there's a linebreaker before the start of the chapter. Not to mention a lot of the reviews are made by guest accounts.
Arianne
qThe sun shone brightly over Highgarden. Far below the castle walls, the sunlight was glimmering onto all of the mazes and different gardens of the capital of the Reach. Children were playing and laughing in the orchards, the town was busy with excitement and both men and women were talking loudly in every corner of the castle.
It seemed like summer had never ended in Highgarden, and yet, leaves were slowly beginning to fall, and soon the lovely branches of the Highgarden trees would be devoid of color safe for the skeletal brown of a tree with no sign of life.
It wasn't the only thing that had started fading.
If the Reachers were somewhat joyful, the mood of the Dornish party was disparate. Ever since news of uncle Oberyn's arrest came, as a matter of fact. And it wasn't just the mood in the Dornish party that changed.
The Reachers became colder, the warm smiles that all of them had on their faces slowly disappeared and turned into scowls and frowns. Not a single one dared voice a public comment, after all, her husband-to-be was still quite protective of her, and she prided herself on that.
However, it seemed that the Rose truly had thorns. Willas Tyrell was not one of these pretty Dornish knights that she could order on a whim, using her charms as her most deadly weapon. Not even Tyene could sway the Reachman with her smiles and innocent demeanor. Not even their combined efforts to pull him closer to Arianne's grasp worked, and she had tried everything.
Tyene just shrugged and figured that Willas was just a challenge that Arianne would eventually overcome. He was resisting, sure, but even he could break. She, on the other hand, was not quite sure anymore.
Willas Tyrell was the perfect man on the outside, if one forgot his handicap. Dashing, handsome, smart, the heir to one of the greatest fortunes in the realm, future lord paramount, exceptional organization and clerical skills, and very good in the bedroom.
What more could a woman want?
Arianne had asked herself that question too many times, but she had the beginning of an answer. And it was simple: she just didn't know him enough.
Usually, Arianne didn't have to take very long to get pretty boys to talk to her, but Willas was a quiet one. Of course, quiet boys weren't new to her, but they too folded. But Willas wasn't just quiet…he was deliberately so.
Willas did not lack confidence, that she knew. His posture while receiving guests and other Reacher lords indicated as much. The heir to Highgarden knew how to be firm when needed, and did not shy away from difficult conversations.
But every man had desires, aspirations, dreams and stories to tell. However, it seemed like every conversation was extremely dull, and any attempt by Arianne to get Willas to open up to her about trivial things like what food he liked or what places he liked most were met with rebuttals from her betrothed, who just instead either shifted the conversation away, or just asked Arianne a question in turn.
In the end, while Arianne had confided some things in him, she felt like Willas just did not confide anything in her. While he knew most of her life, he barely knew anything about his. And the charade continued to go on ever since they met.
Trying with Tyene had yielded similar results, and neither her charms nor Tyene's seemed to soften the Reacher's resolve. She didn't expect him to be a frightened maiden with the prospect of both Tyene and her in his bed, but she didn't expect him to handle the situation like it was just some common task he had to do! Surely, men had gone mad for less, but Willas Tyrell was not just an ordinary man.
She had then tried to appeal to his pride, but that was met with bloody failure too. Every time Arianne had tried to make him jealous or tried demeaning him, he had found an answer or shrugged it off.
Why this act? They were to be married anyways, the only reason that there wasn't a marriage date set yet was because the Tyrells felt that it would overshadow the Royal wedding. Then why did it all feel so fake? The perfect castle, the perfect prince, everything was just too perfect. It all felt wrong, calculated, insincere. And while Tyene had just shrugged it off and just told Arianne that she was being silly, that she would love to have a husband like Willas who was so handsome, rich, nice and pleasing, she felt that this marriage would be far from perfect.
Arianne liked dark and dangerous men, those who showed at least some initiative around her, showed some semblance of uncertainty or risk.
Willas wasn't that man. He wasn't dark or dangerous, he was always proper and nice. He was always smiling, always lovely, always perfect. His movements were repeated, his actions always the exact same. Sure, his actions were always meant with good intentions towards her, but where was his fire? He never offered to do anything out of the ordinary, to take her places or seven hells, to take her with the passion of a hundred suns.
It was always breakfast, walk in the gardens, lunch, some meetings with lords, another walk or a hunt while Arianne stayed in the castle, then dinner and finally sex and sleep.
Every day, the same thing. And while some women would have loved such a companion that doted on them and never left them wanting, Arianne needed just more than pretty words, soft kisses and fancy clothes. Where was the adventure or the wild side of the Reacher? Would he have liked to play in the pools in the Gardens, would he have liked riding on the banks of the Greenblood, or would he have spent a day scouring the markets of Sunspear?
She doubted it.
Ever since she came here, she never saw more than Highgarden's third walls. She never got to see the large banks of the Mander, go bathe in its waters or go riding with him. Slowly but surely, she felt the walls of the fortress at the heart of the Reach close in around her, suffocating her, like a prison with golden bars.
And now, there had been the Royal wedding.
And as soon as the news had come, Arianne had never felt more trapped than now. With uncle Oberyn arrested and most of the Dornish under house arrest, the dirty looks never stopped. Everywhere she went, even with Willas, people would look at her as if she had killed King Joffrey with her bare hands.
And that is when Arianne even went outside. For the most part, she had spent her days with Tyene, providing support to her cousin who was worried sick about her father, trapped and in prison in the claws of the Lannisters.
If only she knew that uncle Oberyn's prison only differed from theirs in that it was a lot less comfortable, and they did not have to deal with Lannisters around the castle.
Her mind had wandered to Quentyn. He was in the capital, and he was always smarter than her, surely, he would be able to get their uncle out of there? Admittedly, he never really liked uncle Oberyn, but he would do anything and more for Nymeria, so if she asked him, which she probably did…
But news weren't easy to come by in the walls of Highgarden. Even her supposed husband-to-be started to get colder with her, and for a moment, she believed that uncle Oberyn had actually done it and killed the boy-king. To what end? Crown Myrcella, perhaps? But had they forgotten her?
The questions lingered in her head for several days. Several days of silence where she pressed her husband into giving her news about her uncle, brother and cousin. Were they alright? Was there to be a trial? The answer was always the same.
"They will be fine."
Nothing more. Just four words, repeated in different tones. Sometimes he would take her hand, sometimes kiss her cheek or lips, sometimes just nod. The words lost themselves in Arianne's head, and she grew ever distant, her joyous attitude fading away and her hopes of being able to control or guide the Tyrell heir disappeared faster than the harshest winter snows in the deserts of Hellholt.
However, today, something changed.
Today, Willas did not go hunting or go meet with some fancy lord from a house Arianne never even heard of in her life, which more than likely had a kind of flower or insect on its sigil, while leaving her to meander around the walls of the castle with Tyene or some of her other companions.
No, today Willas Tyrell had deigned to actually stay with her, his smile never leaving his face while he slowly sunk into a lavishly decorated chair.
"How are you faring, Ari?" he asked her while Arianne stared at him blankly from her chair, a good five feet from where her betrothed had sat.
"As well as yesterday, and the day before that." Arianne replied with a hint of annoyance in her voice.
Willas nodded.
"I must apologize." The Reachman said with an awkward tone.
"Apologize for what, dear betrothed?" Arianne asked, her interest somewhat piqued.
"I…before saying anything, I would ask that you remain discreet about what I am going to tell you. Everything I say must stay between you and me."
Arianne frowned, but remained calm. She had tried for so long to get him to open up to her, she wasn't going to let go of this chance so easily. Let him say what he has to say.
"You have my discretion." She replied.
"I am serious, dear." Willas replied, his tone almost sharply rebutting her. "You cannot say a word of this to anyone, including Tyene."
Arianne wanted to blow up at him. Who did he take her for? Someone who spilled words to everyone? A secret is a secret. Unless her family was directly threatened, she would not speak of it to anyone. Now, what was so important? Did he have a paramour, or did he find Tyene kissing another Reacher knight, perhaps? She wouldn't be shocked that one of these stupid little Reachmen thought her cousin wasn't old enough to do what she liked.
Still, half-smiling, she urged him on.
"Speak, Willas. I won't say a word."
"Good." Willas nodded back. "I am pleased to hear it. No doubt that the past few days have troubled you, and I apologize for it."
Is that what he wished to apologize for? And this required all the secrecy in the world? What game was he playing?
It was time that Willas learn that she could play too. Instead of saying anything, she chose to stay silent.
"Your uncle Oberyn's arrest in the capital…it was planned."
This time, Arianne couldn't control her words.
"Planned?"
Willas nodded.
"Your uncle knew of our…plans for Margaery and Joffrey. He came to offer his help."
"His help?" Arianne questioned. "For what?"
"For the elimination of a troubled case."
Arianne's eyes widened.
"Your uncle and my grandmother met in the greatest secrecy." Willas continued without even taking time to breathe. "They agreed on terms."
"Terms?" Arianne's teeth were clenched now. "What terms?"
"Terms for his aid in clearing the Tyrell name from such an act." Was her betrothed's answer. She saw him lean on his cane further, drawing in a breath. "I will be blunt, dear. Your uncle proposed to take the fall for Joffrey Baratheon's death."
Arianne couldn't believe her ears. Of course, it was the Tyrells! Of course, it was those scheming bastards, and Willas knew! He knew and he didn't say anything!
"And?" Arianne asked, trying her hardest not to burst out in anger.
"Prince Oberyn asked several things in exchange for him taking the fall. The first being that we convince Tywin Lannister to name Gregor Clegane as champion of the crown if Prince Oberyn asked for a trial by battle."
Suddenly, Arianne's eyes lit up. Now she knew why her uncle had done it. Vengeance. Vengeance for Elia and for house Martell. She repressed a bright smile, but if a month with the Tyrells taught her anything, is that there was always more to it.
"The second was to ensure that no harm would come to the other Dornishmen in the capital while the trial was going on." Willas continued. "It could have exposed them to reprisals. We had to huddle them in the same wing of the Keep, but they seem to be doing alright."
"You, did it?" Arianne asked. "How?"
"Poison." Was Willas' only answer.
"I know that." Arianne frowned again. "How?"
"We used the Stark girl for it."
"What became of her?"
"She disappeared along with Lord Baelish, the Lord Regent of the Vale." Willas replied. "We think he has taken her to the Eyrie where he will try to use her to bring the North to his side."
Arianne wanted to laugh. For once that one of the Tyrell's pawns had escaped! However, her joy soon subsided as a realization crept up on her.
"And you didn't tell me anything, why?" Arianne growled. "We are to be married, my uncle offered this pact and you kept it hidden from me?"
"It had to be kept as secret as possible. Even I wasn't informed of this until very recently."
"Very recently? When?"
"Five days ago."
"And why didn't you tell me five days ago, Willas?" Arianne asked with contempt. "We are to be married. My uncle made a deal with your family. With our marriage, we will be linked. I will be your family, Willas. Why did you not trust me?"
"The time wasn't right." Willas answered simply.
Arianne rose from her chair at these words.
"Are we or are we not to be married, Willas?" she screamed out.
"We are." He answered calmly.
"Then start acting like it." Arianne retorted defiantly. "I am to be your wife. I deserved to be informed of developments like these."
"Very well." Willas nodded.
Before Arianne could answer back by asking him to stop just agreeing with her and actually start putting his words in actions, they were rudely interrupted by one of the guards.
"Lord Willas, I must speak with you. It is a matter of utmost urgency." The man said.
"I see." Willas rose from his chair, still leaning on his cane. "Sorry, Ari. I must go. I will be back."
"As you say." Arianne scoffed.
Once he had closed the door, Arianne wobbled slowly to the bed. She nearly wanted to break down crying.
Of course, her uncle was right in wanting to get vengeance for their family. Oberyn always wanted this, and such an opportunity could not be passed up. A few months ago, she would have had applauded this decision, but staying with the Tyrells gave her a view of politics that she didn't have in Dorne, and this announcement had her stomach tied in a knot.
And those small lessons all came to her at once. All of them pointing to a grim realization: the Tyrells had won. They had outplayed and outmanoeuvred house Martell in every way.
House Martell would take the fall for Joffrey's death, and Dorne would be scorned whatever happened at the trial. Clegane would die whatever happened, and the Tyrells knew this. A lapdog less for the Lannisters, and their precious Margaery would just marry the next king.
As for the Martells, they would have control over both a prince and the heir to Sunspear. With them and the Lannisters working hand in hand, Quentyn and Oberyn were both trapped in the capital, both houses would never let go of such important figures as these. Guests in name, hostages in reality. They had played on Oberyn's wishes and done so with the utmost care. All they needed to do now was drag Quentyn along, or, and it sent a shiver down her spine, get rid of him.
Not now, of course. But once it is clear that Dorne had no other choice to bend to the Roses. All without a single drop of Reacher blood spilled.
And, of course, a hostage she was too. The Tyrells would brag otherwise, but she knew it very well, now. The Tyrells had perfectly played the game of thrones. They had locked house Martell in a series of golden cages and they held all the keys.
Arianne wanted to slump down on the bed and cry in her pillow. She had always wanted to be the strongest princess of Dorne since Nymeria, but she was now just a hostage in a far-away land. Her dreams of being the true ruler of Highgarden were gone and buried.
Would Nymeria shame and scorn her? Her descendant, reduced to serving the Reach for the remainder of her days? What would the founder of House Nymeros Martell say?
She wanted to be the strongest woman in Dorne, the one everyone would look up to as the greatest ruler since Nymeria herself. But now…now she just felt little. She was no Nymeria reborn; she was just the lonely princess in the tower, but it was not a dragon guarding her but a rose with the sharpest thorns. And there would be no knight to save her from her flowery prison.
She felt the door open once again, revealing her betrothed, who looked quite pale.
"What is it?" she asked, in a defeated tone.
Willas took a deep breath before answering.
"The Ironborn have taken the Shield Islands."
