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Rolling, green fields stretched on for an eternity, no matter which way Aegon turned, and joined with the crisp blue skies on the horizon. He had seen nothing like this while in Essos, but even the beauty of the Reach and the excitement of finally being in Westeros could not chase away the disappointment that had leached into his very bones.

Most of Aegon's childhood had been spent imagining what Sunspear might look like, what it would be like to visit the Water Gardens or explore Planky Town. He'd latched onto stories told by Ashara, even if she was perhaps not the best at describing the places she'd been. Aegon had never minded; it had always comforted him to think that one day he'd sail into Sunspear and return home.

He understood why it had been wiser to sail into Wyl rather than Sunspear. Wyl's port was smaller than the one in Planky Town or Sunspear, and a smaller port meant fewer curious eyes. Even if Aegon became Young Griff once more, he imagined that too many people would be curious as to who Prince Oberyn's guests were.

Sailing into Wyl meant less time trekking across Dorne and Westeros as well. They weren't in any true hurry; it would be smarter to let the usurper's brothers and the Lannisters tear each other to bits before they took the field. But much could change in the time it took them to cross Dorne, and there would be plenty of time still for Aegon to visit Sunspear. He wouldn't have been able to stay long anyway, Ashara had pointed out. It would be better to visit later, when he could truly enjoy his mother's home. But gods, he would have given up the throne just to see his mother's home, to meet his Uncle Doran and the rest of his cousins.

An exaggeration, Aegon knew, for he had done no such thing. They made port in Wyl before hiring a smaller ship to take them up the River Wyl, across the Marches to Vulture's Roost, where a Dornish envoy awaited them led by more of his cousins. His uncle Doran sent his heir Arianne in his stead, along with Tyene, Elia, and Obella. Six cousins he'd met, and yet still more remained unknown to him. And how overwhelming it was, to have so much family when just two moons prior he'd had no one of his own blood.

If they'd sailed into Sunspear, Aegon supposed he'd have been able to meet all of his Dornish cousins. I would have had more time with Ellaria as well. She'd continued on towards Sunspear from Vulture's Roost, much to Aegon's dismay. But she had young children who awaited her there, children who she said had already been too long without their mother. Shamefully, Aegon found himself envious of those young children, Dorea and Loreza, he remembered. They had a mother who would return home to them.

It made Aegon wonder what it would have been like to grow up in Dorne, rather than on the run in Essos. Ashara had been as much of a mother to him as she was capable of, but he suspected Elia hung over her head. He'd called Ashara mother, once. She'd been swift to correct him, to remind him that Elia Martell was his true mother and remind just who exactly had stolen her from him. Ashara had done her best, Aegon knew. She'd never asked to raise a child in exile, but still she had, and Aegon was eternally grateful.

Still, on the road from Vulture's Roost to further into the Reach, Aegon found himself looking over his shoulder for Ellaria. Had things been different, had Aegon been sent to Dorne rather than Pentos, would Ellaria had claimed him for her own as she'd done with Oberyn's other children? Obara and Nymeria both looked to Ellaria as much as Oberyn, and Ellaria fussed over them as much as she had fussed over Tyene and Obella in the brief time they'd been reunited. Ellaria wasn't Obara and Nymeria's true mother, they didn't even share the same mother.

Aegon saw glimpses of that life, even if they were only small ones. He saw it in the way his cousins all meshed together so seamlessly, as though they'd never been parted for a day in their life. Not that they excluded him, per se. But how could he not feel as though he existed merely on the edge? No amount of invitations could let him in on the knowledge of long shared jokes or old memories. He'd never felt lonely growing up, even though most of the time there had been no other children his age. But now that he'd finally returned to Westeros? He'd never felt Rhaenys' absence so acutely.

The sun danced lower and lower on the horizon, and Aegon listened silently as Obella, Nymeria, and Elia recounted a story from their youth. That evening they'd made camp somewhere west of Ashford, though Aegon wasn't quite sure exactly where. They had yet to cross the Mander; he knew that much, as their camp sat on its southern bank. None of their banners flew in the air; no red's, oranges, or yellows to give their allegiance away. Most of the Reach's forces were still in the Stormlands, Arianne had informed them, either having turned to Stannis following Renly's demise or fleeing from the man himself. But a group of two hundred Dornishmen traipsing through the Reach would not go unnoticed, so they withheld banners.

His cousin's conversation drifted away from the story to matters beyond Aegon, so he silently slipped away. He was expected in Oberyn's pavilion, anyway. He strolled through the camp, as lazy as the river that flowed to his left. The men who sat outside their own tents paid him their respects as he strolled by, which Aegon returned with a wave. Jon hadn't wanted Aegon to walk about so freely. It was too risky; he claimed. His Uncles may trust these men, but Jon didn't. Aegon saw little point in hiding his identity. They were there to stake his claim, after all. And what reason would the Dornishmen traveling with them have to give him over to the Lannisters? Dorne hadn't forgotten what Tywin Lannister did to Elia Martell, to Rhaenys. Aegon hadn't either.

Obara sat on a wooden stool outside a large tent, the only indicator that it was, in fact, Oberyn's pavilion. It was the same drab canvas as the rest of the tents. No more or no less ornate, nothing too eye-catching. She fiddled with her spear, only looking up and acknowledging him when he stopped right in front of her. Her only greeting was a gruff "cousin," before she went back to adjusting the leather wrappings on the spear.

Aegon shot her a lopsided grin and nodded to the tent. "Have you grown tired of politics already?"

Obara snorted. "I grow tired of their bickering."

Aegon snickered. Even from outside the tent, Aegon could make out Jon and Oberyn's arguing. It'd been nearly non-stop since they boarded the ship in Pentos. Aegon would be surprised if one hadn't stabbed the other before he won his throne.

With a last nod to Obara, he ducked into the tent, only to find Jon and Oberyn scowling at each other from across the table. Arianne lounged in a chair, bored and chatting to Tyene, who sat to her left. She only broke from their whispers to give him a wave.

Aegon's entrance stole Oberyn's attention from Jon. "Nephew," he greeted, his scowl quickly replaced with a jovial smile. Jon only scowled deeper at Oberyn's quick shift.

"Uncle," Aegon returned with a raised brow. He considered the changed markers on the map, the parchment with the broken seal on the table. "Is there news?"

"A rider from Kingsgrave with news from my father," Arianne drawled. She gestured to the parchment lazily. "It seems your cousin is on the move."

His heart skipped at the mention of his cousin. On the move where? Had she received Doran's response? Doran had mentioned a meeting at Harrenhal, something Aegon was not particularly pleased with, but perhaps she'd grown impatient and started south towards them. Aegon hurriedly stepped towards the table. "On the move where?"

"Into the Westerlands," Jon sneered.

Oberyn's scowl returned as quickly as it had fled. "With an army of Northmen, if my brother is correct. Robb Stark's bastard brother is with her, the one he legitimized. Why would she take him with her if she meant to betray the North?"

"You forget who her father is, who her grandfather is. It's a clever move. March a portion of her husband's army right into Tywin's grasp. His beloved brother as well," Jon sneered.

From Tyene's eye roll and Arianne's sigh of exasperation, Aegon gathered this argument had been going on for quite some time. He reached forward and grabbed the letter for himself, running his eyes over his uncle's neat scrawl. What Arianne said was true. Alysanne marched west from Riverrun with several thousand northmen at her back. Aegon's heart lifted.

"It was Alysanne who wrote to Doran for an alliance. She's already turned against the Lannisters," Aegon interjected.

Jon's fury lessened when he addressed Aegon. "Even so, it shows she has no qualms marching against family, against her own people. Who's to say she won't do the same to you, if we don't agree to whatever terms Robb Stark demands?"

Oberyn's sharp laugh cracked through the tent. "So she is a traitor to her husband if she sides with Tywin, and she is not to be trusted if she marches against the Lannisters and the Westerlands. Tell me, Jon, what should she do? Will you not march against your people if the Stormlanders do not declare for Aegon? What if your family stands against you?"

Jon's face turned puce. Arianne stepped forward to the table and waved a hand between the two men, her gold bracelets jingling. "This argument is pointless," she chided. "Where should she be by now?"

Oberyn stared down Jon, refusing to break eye contact first. Jon looked away, eyebrows drawn tight together. He pointed to a spot on the map. "Either just passing Wayfarer's Rest or coming upon Golden Tooth."

"Ah! You see!" She tapped the lion marker above Golden Tooth lightly. "We will know if she means to betray the Stark boy when she meets the Lannister men there. If she doesn't betray him, I say we join her host rather than wait for Harrenhal."

That only re-enraged Jon. He shot daggers at Arianne while Oberyn considered her proudly. "There is too much risk," Jon barked. "Doran said Harrenhal, we should continue towards there."

"How is it any more of a risk than making for Harrenhal, hm? If anything, there will be more Lannister soldiers closer to King's Landing. Especially if Stannis means to lay siege to King's Landing, as you say."

A new argument began between Jon and Oberyn, but Arianne held his gaze confidently. It was his decision, ultimately. And he did like the idea of avoiding Harrenhal.

Why would he want to step foot in that place? Harrenhal meant nothing to him but his father's betrayal, his mother's humiliation. Aegon understood why his uncle had chosen that ruin. It was certainly symbolic, and it would send a message. But Aegon would rather leave those ghosts in the past. He couldn't unite the kingdom if he allowed old wounds to rise to the surface. The north remembered what had happened at Harrenhal just as well as Dorne did, Aegon was sure.

I would get to meet Alysanne sooner, too. They wouldn't have to travel so wide around King's Landing and pick their way through the Riverlands. It would be riskier, but it would be swifter as well. Is it selfish to forgo patience here? Perhaps he deserved to be selfish. He could have demanded they sail into Sunspear instead, just so he could finally see his mother's home and meet his other uncle as well as his younger cousins. He could have demanded that Ellaria stay with their group, rather than return to Sunspear.

The quicker an alliance was formed between Dorne and the North, the better. Alysanne did not know he lived, to his knowledge. He'd hate to deceive her for too much longer. And was that not what they were doing? She'd reached out to Dorne in hopes for an alliance to help secure the North's independence, not help put him on the throne. What would she do if he asked her and Robb Stark to kneel? What would he do if they refused? Aegon's stomach twisted at the thought, and he pushed that worry away for later.

Aegon's voice broke through the din of arguing. "We'll continue towards Goldengrove as we planned," he said. Jon and Oberyn quieted to listen to him and Arianne looked on hopefully. "If Alysanne remains loyal to the North, we'll change course and meet with her host." When she remains loyal, he wanted to say. He highly doubted his cousin would have gone through so much trouble to meet with Dorne if she meant to join with the Lannisters. Besides, I dreamt of three dragons. Not two.

Jon's only acknowledgement was a stiff nod. More and more, Aegon found himself at odds with Jon. For all that Ashara was his mother, Jon was his father. Until recently, it had been Jon deciding as to where they would go and when. But now it was Aegon who had the final say, and the thought that Jon didn't approve or agree put him on edge.

Ashara did her best to quell his worries. Not that he was disappointed in him, she insisted. It was only that being back in Westeros was surely dredging forth unwanted worries, old failures and fears. But now, facing down Jon's silence and blank stare, Aegon wasn't so sure.

Oberyn was swift to excuse himself, summoning Tyene along with him. Aegon tried to catch Jon's attention, but he was swift to leave as well, mentioning something or other about the men needing seeing to, leaving Aegon alone with his cousin.

Arianne sauntered up to him. He knew Doran wished for a marriage alliance between the two of them, but neither he nor Arianne hadn't gone as far as to mention it directly. She was quite beautiful; he had to admit. Soft curves and large eyes, full lips and hair that flowed down her back, Aegon certainly wasn't blind. But Dorne was already tied to his cause through his mother and there were other alliances he'd need to make, other allies he'd need to win. He couldn't afford to be selfish in all matters.

Arianne had to tilt her head back to speak to him when standing before him. Aegon took after his father with his height, Oberyn said, and Arianne, her mother. Arianne barely came to his shoulders, a fact he found quite amusing. "You do not think she'll betray Robb Stark?" Arianne asked, reigniting the conversation from before.

Aegon shook his head. "She would not have badgered your father with ravens if she intended to," he japed. It had only been two ravens, really, but to hear Arianne tell it, the tone of the second had been considerably more pleading. "I assume you feel the same," he stated. He moved away from his cousin, taking a seat at the round table.

"She won't betray him," Arianne agreed. She paused, hesitatingly briefly before adding, "I thought I would have to fight harder for you to side with me."

Aegon shrugged, kicking his feet up onto the table. Ashara wasn't there to chide him and call him unkingly for doing so. "It was a good idea."

Arianne sunk into the chair beside his. "I have other ideas, if you would care to hear them. I shared them with our uncle, but I fear he's far too focused on his revenge to care much for politics."

That drew a slight chuckle from Aegon. Indeed, it seemed that being back in Westeros and beginning their journey north had renewed an anger in Oberyn. Not a day went by without him mentioning the Lannisters paying for what they'd done, as well as Gregor Clegane. Aegon didn't think he ignored politics completely, though. He'd shared some insights with Aegon on the voyage from Pentos that he knew would prove useful. "What are these ideas, then?"

"For starters, have you given much thought to who else there is to ally with? You can't rely solely on Stark." Arianne straightened her posture and waited expectantly.

"A bit," Aegon frowned in concentration. "Jon says the Vale has yet to declare for anyone, though I suppose if Robb Stark refuses me, they'll likely follow suit." The Lady of the Vale was Robb Stark's aunt, if Aegon remembered correctly. "And then there's the Reach. Oberyn doesn't like Lord Tyrell, but they fought for my father."

Arianne's sneer at the mention of Lord Tyrell told Aegon she held similar sentiments. "Yes, and they declared for Robert's younger brother. Last my father heard, they fled all the way to Oldtown after Renly's defeat," she swallowed her clear distaste. "Still, they cannot be discounted. Once you're ready to announce your return, they'll be important."

"I'll make sure to write to Lord Tyrell, then," Aegon agreed. At Arianne's snicker,widowed, Aegon inclined his head. Was that not the point she was trying to make?

"It's Olenna Tyrell you'll want to write to, the old bat. Lord Tyrell's mother. Everyone knows she's the one who truly rules. Growing Strong," Arianne mocked. "They married Margaery to Renly, poor thing. Now that she's widowed, they'll try to marry her off to you. Were you a woman, it'd be Willas, cripple that he is. Though I suppose if you were so inclined, they'd give you Willas, anyway."

"Arianne," Aegon chided. His cousin had no inclination for tarrying her words, Aegon found. Though it is amusing.

She merely shrugged. "They don't care so long as it pushes them closer to the throne." She paused a moment before smiling slyly. "I tried to marry Willas once, you know. I only made it to Vaith before Oberyn caught Tyene and I."

"Truly?" The thought of Arianne and Tyene stealing away brought a bemused smile to his face.

"Yes," Arianne joined in his laughter. "I was angry at my father for not securing a betrothal for me, so I thought to do it on my own. That was before I knew of his plans for Viserys and I," she trailed off with melancholy.

They'd spoken of the matter briefly during their journey. It was how Aegon pieced together that Doran must want a betrothal between him and Arianne, if Viserys was now out of the picture. Arianne only made brief mention of the resentment she had felt towards her father while growing up, and the sorrow that had taken its place. One night, after she'd indulged in more wine than usual, she told him that a part of her still resented her father for not trusting her more, for allowing his plot to drive a wedge between them. Aegon had made no mention of it since.

Aegon cleared his throat. "Was there ought else?"

Arianne sniffed. "No, there was one more matter. Have you given any thought to what you'll do if Robb Stark refuses to kneel?"

He scratched at his ear and dropped his feet from the table. It seemed he couldn't shove the issue aside for later, after all. "There's not much I can do, is there?" Robb Stark had two kingdoms, and Aegon only had Dorne for certainty. Unless the Reach joined him, there wasn't much to be done.

Arianne did not appear to much like his answer. "Not only has the North declared independence, but the Riverlands have declared for him as well. You can't simply allow for two of your kingdoms to break away. That's half of Westeros, and they're yours by right. If Robb Stark doesn't kneel, you'll be fighting a rebellion before you've so much as sat on the Iron Throne." A war before the first war was even won. Aegon didn't even want to fight a war in the first place.

"What do you suggest I do, then?" Aegon sighed. He wasn't entirely sure how he'd allowed himself to be trapped in this conversation. Truthfully, it was a conversation that should have waited until Jon, Oberyn, and Ashara were there to give their own input. But it was too late for that now.

"Alysanne is your key," Arianne said resolutely. She met his stare head on.

"Robb Stark is the King in the North," Aegon said slowly. "He rules, not Alysanne." For as much as Dorne and his uncles only seemed to speak of Alysanne when it came to their upcoming meeting with the North, it was Robb Stark who was King. It would be Robb Stark they would treat with, and it would be Robb Stark who would make the final decision.

"Yet it was Alysanne who wrote to Dorne in the first place, not him. It is she who commands his Westerlands campaign, not him or his bastard brother," she rebutted. "He values her. He would not have allowed her these things if he didn't."

"Is it?" Arianne hummed, a glint in her eye.

Aegon cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

"I did not suggest changing our course from Harrenhal to Alysanne because I so desperately want to meet her," Arianne said wryly. "If you wish to return the North to the fold and bring its King to heel, you'll need to win the loyalty of their Queen."

Does she think Alysanne will side with me over Robb, just because I am her cousin? Aegon narrowed his eyes. From all that they'd heard along the road, Alysanne was loyal to the North. She wouldn't be marching against her father's lands were she not. "I am not fool enough to think that Alysanne will go against the family she knows for what blood we share, Arianne. She doesn't know I exist." If their shared blood wasn't enough for her to willingly join their cause from the start, it certainly wouldn't be enough for her to go against the North.

"That is not what I am saying," she waved away. "If Robb Stark refuses to listen to you, he may listen to his wife. Convince her it is in her best interests to kneel and cede the North, and mayhap the Stark boy will follow suit. Even better if we win her over before you meet him."

Aegon studied her. It was a sound plan. Win the loyalty of Alysanne, and perhaps Robb would be more amenable to bending the knee. It had every mark of the political maneuvering Jon said Aegon would need to grow adept at, were he to rule beyond the way. Aegon relaxed back into his chair. "Why did you not present this plan to me when Oberyn and Jon were here?"

A loud laugh echoed through the pavilion. "Did you see the way those two were at each other's throats? I could not have gotten a word in edge-wise." She tossed her hair over her shoulder and gracefully rose from her seat. "I think I'll retire now. Goodnight, cousin."

She drifted to the entrance and swept the flap aside, but stopped short. Jon stood just on the other side. He stepped aside to let Arianne by before ducking into the pavilion.

Jon stood for a moment, staring at Aegon silently. Aegon averted his eyes and shifted in his seat. "You look more like him each day. Your hair is the same." Jon's tone was melancholy, and perhaps any other day Aegon would have felt more sympathy for him. But each day of their journey just reminded Aegon more of the war to come, and why he had to fight it in the first place.

Aegon absentmindedly ran his fingers through his hair. In Essos he'd kept it cropped short, hardly letting it grow long enough to tie back. It was easier to dye that way. Since arriving in Westeros, though, he'd let it grow longer. It fell below his chin now, leaving it an odd combination of silver and blue.

There had been no reason to bring blue dye with them to Westeros, and Jon had long rid himself of the color. He always kept his hair short, anyway. But Aegon couldn't bring himself to completely do away with the color yet, no matter how much Ashara wished he'd cut some of it. Jon took the seat next to Aegon, recently vacated by Arianne. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I do not think it is wise to change course. I understand you're eager to meet your cousin, but we make sacrifices in war. Do you not think your father wanted to ride back to King's Landing to you and Rhaenys?"

Aegon shook his head. "I wouldn't need to fight this war if it weren't for him."

"Your father did not start that war, Aegon," Jon exhaled sharply. "It was your grandfather, when Lord Stark and his wild son demanded your father's head. Your grandfather and the usurper." Aegon bristled at Jon's exasperated tone. Why can't he see it the way I do?

Aegon rolled his jaw. "And tell me, Jon, why did Lord Stark demand my father's head in the first place?" Perhaps he was searching for an argument by asking that question. Aegon knew where Jon stood on the matter. After all, it had been Ashara who told Aegon of how his father had humiliated his mother, not Jon. Jon made no mention of it until Aegon asked him.

"Your father had his reasons," Jon sighed, but grew defensive when Aegon scoffed. "You need to understand-"

"I don't need to understand anything," Aegon seethed. Aegon had never spoken to Jon with such anger, and the shock showed plainly on his face. Later, Aegon would feel guilt for it. But not then. His blood ran hot through his veins, his head swam, and his tongue flew loose. "Tell me, did you come here to convince me to ride for Harrenhal? Or do you come to convince me of my father's innocence? You've failed at both." Jon sputtered. Aegon continued. "I think perhaps you should leave."

Jon stood and opened his mouth, but closed it once more. He shuffled to the entrance of the tent, following Arianne's earlier path, albeit slower. As if he were waiting for Aegon to call him back. He pulled the flap of the tent back and stalled a moment more before disappearing altogether. Once more, Aegon was alone.