Dorne, Sunspear - Shadow City Brothel
"This is what you described as a 'critical' part of mission?" Jaime asked his companion, annoyed at his deception. The sun had almost set and he was desperate to reach their destination. "How does this stop do anything but delay our arrival?"
"Now, you're the one who dragged me along," Bronn spat back, "and for your information, if you want any sort of idea about the people you're dealing with, visit their brothels." Jaime squinted, waiting for him to go on. "And of course the men and I don't mind this stop that much." He grinned and left Jaime at the entrance along with the two kingsguards. He gave the duo a nod and left them to stand guard outside.
"Of course we're stuck out here while the rest get to enjoy themselves all night," Balon mumbled. Arys just scoffed and let out a sigh.
"We have our duties, and besides we have given sacred vows to the-"
"I don't give a rat's arse about vows, you think I became a kingsguard for honor?" He snapped at the aghast younger man, searching for his words. "The only reason I'm here is because Queen Cersei promised me my weight in gold if I returned her daughter back to her."
"We shouldn't be here anyways!" Arys whined back, "This stop will not help us find her!" All of a sudden a dark-haired woman in a lilac dress walked up to him and pressed her hand against his chest. He backed up instinctively.
"Care to join me inside?" She asked, her dark eyes gleaming in the moonlight. He saw two blonde women and a dark-haired man waiting behind her. Arys shook his head slowly. The woman pouted. "Are you certain?"
"Yes, I have my duties and it seems you have yours," he gestured her inside and watched as she shoved past Balon as her and the rest of the group walked in.
-
"Yes, go ahead, this is clearly more important to you than retrieving the princess." Jaime sarcastically spat out and sighed in defeat as the rest of his men dispersed throughout the dim room, lit only with candles of various colors. Large chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their candles' wax slowly dripping onto the floor. Reds and purples, oranges and greens flickered throughout the maze of a brothel. Moans filled the air as he brushed past barely clothed men and women and took a seat at a table with some of his men, ales in hand. Each had already found their companion for the evening and he sat alone, turning his attention to the center stage. A thin, but toned woman moved seductively on the seat onstage. Her tanned skin was oiled, at least a dozen snakes writhed around her arms, legs, and torso. She wore a pale purple, shimmering dress, her black hair in a long braid down her left shoulder. Her dark eyes were lined with black ink, her deep red lips whistled a soft tune, and her snakes slithered to its beat. Jaime's eyes were transfixed on the snakes, he couldn't fathom how a person could stay so calm covered in serpents.
"Look at what I've found here!" Bronn announced triumphantly sitting down at the table, pulling a girl into his lap. She stood out in this locale, dressed as a septa, head to toe covered in light blue cloth. Blond hair poked out from under her headscarf, framing her innocent doll face with soft blue eyes. She kissed him and Jaime returned his attention to the stage. A blonde had come on stage wearing a pink dress, somehow more revealing than the her raven-haired stage mate's. She danced around the stage, cheers of the crowd rising with her dress. The seated woman stood and twirled the blonde in a circle and Jaime caught sight of her bright green eyes and face that were all too familiar to him. Lady Nym brought out a whip and spun it in a circle around his niece as she spun. Myrcella grabbed it and leaned back, letting Nym hoist her up. Watching the women dance and hearing the men's lewd cheers, his breath caught in his chest. "Who knew you could find such a pious girl in a place like this?" He turned his head to Bronn who was still focused entirely on this septa. She slipped off his lap and onto the ground, kneeling before him, hands on his thighs.
"You want a good girl, do you?" Her voice was near childlike and Jaime almost puked at the thought. Then in a sudden moment, she tore off her headscarf and a viper leaped out from under. Bronn dodged it as his flew past his face and he fell out of his chair to the floor. Her knee was on his chest, a dagger held to his throat. "Well you are in Dorne and you will not find what you are looking for," she continued, pressing the blade closer. Jaime reached for his sword and a short blade flew by his face, hitting the wall, as a whip wrapped round his wrist. His head shot up, seeing the raven-haired woman start towards them, pulling the rope back. Another whistle and he saw the snake that narrowly missed Bronn slither up the arm of a young man with black hair ending in blue tips. He glanced around the room, seeing guards decked out in the Martell colors filling the room.
"Nice to see you again, uncle Jaime," Myrcella greeted, taking Trystane's free hand that helped her off the stage.
"Myrcella?" He asked incredulously. She was a child the last time he saw her. "What on earth are you doing here?" His eyes were wider than they ever had been and he was almost screaming.
"Welcome to Dorne, Ser Jaime." Prince Trystane extended his hand, the viper curled its head around his shoulder. "We've been expecting you at the Water Gardens." He stood and shook the prince's hand.
"Yes, my men needed a rest after our long journey south." He answered thoughtfully. "But I'm still confused as to why my niece is spending her evening in a place like-"
"Oh, uncle," Myrcella interrupted. "Dorne is much different than the capitol, we truly live life to the fullest here." She smiled knowingly at him. "No need for such scruples." Jaime frowned at her words. She turned to the woman beside her, "this is Lady Nym." Then, gesturing to the blonde slowly stepping off of Bronn, "and that's Tyene." Neither spoke as he nodded his greeting at them both, not ready to shake their hands. It didn't matter, they were focused on sheathing their blades and didn't seem to mind.
"Come, let us head to Water Gardens, they aren't too far from here." He took his niece's hand as she led him to the door.
"I'll need to gather my men," he informed them. He was out of his depth and he felt as if he were drowning.
"No need," Trystane told him. "My cousins will see them gathered and brought to the gardens. If we leave now you should be able to get some sleep before treating with my father in the morning." Jaime nodded in defeat and followed the prince and his daughter out of the brothel and back onto the streets of Sunspear's Shadow City.
Dorne, The Water Gardens - Grand Hall
The high ceilings of the grand hall were domed and tiled in a mosaic of countless colors. The sculpted columns were wreathed with vines and bright flowers of pink and purple. Sunlight filled every corner of the room and gentle breeze cooled the air as Jaime took his seat on the cream divan alongside Ellaria. On the divan across from them, sat Trystane and Myrcella. Prince Doran sat on the armchair in the center of the room, at the figurative head of the table. As always, the towering Areo Hotah stood behind him. Obara, Nymeria, Tyene, Sarella, and Elia had refused to attend; Obella had left early that morning with her grandfather, Lord Harmen Uller, to return to Hellholt. She would continue her lessons there, in her mother's home, and return when she had finished. Jaime couldn't focus on the Prince's speech of welcome to his guests, his eyes stuck on Myrcella, shamelessly flirting with Trystane. "Prince Doran, I do apologize for the confusion last night, my men were quite exhausted from the journey and wanted a brief respite before we arrived. I did not anticipate that we'd find our princess in a brothel of all places." His tone was accusatory.
"Forgive my son's thoughtlessness, he forgets to honor his betrothed's culture. They should not have been there and you have my word it will not happen again." As Doran spoke, Trystane's eyes rolled and Myrcella tried to contain her laughter, much to the prince's dismay. He glared at his son expectantly.
"My apologies, Ser Jaime. I forget how much of our lifestyle your people consider shameful." Trystane's sardonic apology only earned him a scowl from his father.
"Apology accepted." Jaime paused a moment, " however, as your betrothed, I thought that her honor would be of much greater importance to you but it seems you would rather engage in activities unbecoming of a future royal consort." The young prince only faked a smile in return. "While I appreciate your word, Prince Doran, the princess's safety won't be your responsibility for much longer. As we've said, the king has taken the loss of his grandfather quite hard and wants his family close to him. Given the threat we received, I do hope you can understand, I know this isn't what we'd agreed to."
"Of course, having just lost a beloved member of our family, we understand the urge to keep yours close. I am sorry we have not found the person responsible for stealing the princess's necklace, but I do hope you'll at least stay for the festival tonight. At least you can say one good thing about your journey." Doran couldn't stoop any lower. Ellaria bit her tongue keeping her face neutral; Trystane did not hid his rage at his father's submission well enough. Jaime noticed his niece's disapproval as well.
"I don't see why not, my men would enjoy the celebrations and I'm sure Myrcella will want some time to prepare for her return home." He smiled at her but she didn't return the gesture. He moved on. "King Tommen will be grateful for you gracious understanding and overjoyed to have his sister home." The prince of Dorne gladly nodded at his acceptance.
"To Tommen, first of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm." Doran plucked a wine glass off the table and raised it up. Jaime, Myrcella, Ellaria, and Trystane followed suit, raising their own glasses.
"To King Tommen," Jaime echoed. He brought the chalice to his lips and drank alongside the rest.
Dorne, The Water Gardens - Outer Courtyard
"Ser Gerold," Ellaria greeted the grim man, sat on a bench, watching the fountains spurt water into the lower basins. He was near thirty years and had straight shoulder-length black hair now dyed silver. The rest of his family had gone back to either High Hermitage or Starfall, but he remained for the festivities to honor the prince he idolized. Gerold Dayne wore dark grey robes, a longsword fixed on his belt and his house's falling star and sword sigil emblazoned on his chest plate. His pointed purple eyes locked onto his interruption.
"Ellaria," he spoke plainly. "Do tell me why in the seven hells these lions have kept their heads. Our prince may be a stool easily stepped upon but have the Sand Snakes turned mice?" As one of the few men on par with the late's prince skill, the famed Darkstar of House Dayne wasn't one to mince words. He was known for his unpredictable outbursts and Ellaria would do her best to curb another, especially in their current situation.
"Doran has offered guest right to them, while the Snakes and I share your anger, we cannot have them harmed without our halls." Abruptly, he leapt from his seat and faced her.
"Then it doesn't happen in the palace, my father's men can meet me and we will cut them off on their way back to King's Landing. We'll send the king his sister's head." He smirked cruelly.
"Another innocent girl killed is no justice for Oberyn." She spat back. "I need you to trust that we will handle this situation, we will not remain subservient to them." Gerold encroached on her, getting close enough that she could feel his hot air against her face.
"Why should I trust him? Our crown princess raped and murdered, our beloved prince butchered and still Doran does nothing. How long does he think Dorne will simply roll over and accept these brutalities?" Ellaria grabbed his arm and cut him off from his rant.
"Doran is not involved in our plan," she began, "Tommen will not be King for long and we will have a true ally of Dorne on the Throne." She let go of his arm and held his deep gaze searching for some sort of reaction. His scowl only deepened at her words.
"You plan to put that girl on the Iron Throne?" Breath ragged, he stepped back away from Ellaria, the sting of betrayal cut him sharp. "Doran's way or yours, a Lannister remains on the throne. It is all the same." He marched off, his shoulder shoving her aside as left the courtyard.
Dorne, The Water Gardens - Myrcella's Quarters
A knock at the doorway announced Jaime's presence as he waited outside the room. "Come in," the princess allowed. She was seated at her desk, leant over a letter, methodically jotting down word after word on the page. Myrcella finished her message and turned her chair towards him. "I'd heard about what happened to your hand. I'm sorry you went through that." She paused, waiting for a response she wouldn't get, "and I'm sorry about last night. I know you expect better from a princess."
"Don't." He said abruptly. "You didn't choose to come here and I can't blame you for doing your best to acclimate to your surroundings. I guess I just hadn't ever thought that you'd thrive here as much as you clearly are." He was struggling to close the divide between them, choosing his words so not to offend. His niece just smiled at his effort. Jaime reached into his pocket and pulled out her necklace. "Try not to lose it this time," he said playfully. Myrcella took it from him and clasped it around her neck.
"I feel like I'm truly alive here, uncle Jaime. Back in the capitol I was always so stifled and mother never let me go anywhere." She tried to explain herself, to give her uncle a better understanding of her perspective. "And Joffrey-"
"He's gone now, you don't have to worry about him anymore." Jaime knew the treatment she'd suffered at his hands. It would be better now, he thought. "Tommen is still the sweet boy he was when you left. He could really use your support as he comes into his throne. He's even offered Trystane a seat on the small council." He held her hands, hoping for some connection. She squeezed his hand in response and nodded.
"Alright, I'll come home," she said at last. "On one condition: we will treat the Dornish well, they've suffered much in the past and we'd do well to make it up to them. Promise me that Trystane will be safe there, that mother or anyone else will try and hurt him." She blinked her doe eyes at him, goading him into acceptance.
"You really think your mother would hurt him?" He was surprised how little she thought of Cersei, unsure whether she'd come to these conclusions on her own or if it was a result of her time here.
"Stop it." She scolded. He only gave her a look of confusion, this only infuriated her more. "Stop pretending she wouldn't try to kill him if she knew where you found me last night, stop pretending she isn't vicious towards everyone outside of our family, and stop pretending that everything will be different if I go back!" She couldn't stop herself as the pent-up rage spilt out of her. Jaime's confusion turned to shock at her sudden outburst. "Even with Joffrey gone, she'll do everything she can to control me."
"Your mother is only doing what she-" He didn't get to finish.
"She always does whatever she thinks is right! She doesn't care to hear what anyone has to say. I'm just tired of all the lies and tricks and schemes." Myrcella just sighed and Jaime fell silent in shame. He was only just realizing how much she must have suffered in the capitol.
"I'm sorry" His voice was softer than it had ever been. She quickly noticed how vulnerable he was around her. "I know I haven't been the best uncle, but if you would just give a chance, I'll do what I can to make it up to you." She nodded and made her own request.
"How about you start by giving me a chance to show you how beautiful this place really is? Promise me you'll actually try. " The anger was gone from her voice. "It would mean the world to me."
"Alright," Jaime answered. "I can do that." He wiped a tear from her face she hadn't realized was there.
"Good," Myrcella smiled at him. She stood and made her way to the doorway, "Now, I have to go help Nym prepare for the performance tonight. It'd be good for you and Trys to get to know each other better. I can ask him to give you a tour of the palace."
"No need," Ellaria spoke up, announcing herself. "I'll be glad to show our guest around." -
"Myrcella's become quite the young woman here," Jaime complimented his guide as they navigated the sparse halls of the lower levels, "I know you must have had a role in her care."
"Yes, your daughter has surprised me as well, I've enjoyed having her here." Ellaria let her words ring in his head. Feeling overly exposed, Jaime scrambled for his words. She took his arm and went on, "You think I disapprove? People disapproved of Oberyn and me where you come from. If you'd been born a hundred years ago and been named 'Targaryen' no one would bat an eye." Again she let her words sink in. "It's always changing, who we're supposed to love and who we're not. The only thing that stays the same is we want who we want."
"I hope you don't mind me saying that you're not at all what I expected." Her words repeated over in head, nothing had ever made so much sense to him.
"And what did you expect of me? A heartbroken harlot?"
"That's not what I- I only meant to say that-" She laughed as he fumbled over his words, patting his arm gently.
"Don't fret. I do not take offense at such things," Ellaria assured him. "I only mean to say that I hold no preconceived ills against you. Elia's death was not your doing, neither was Oberyn's. And from what he told me, Arys Targaryen more than deserved your sword through his back. He played no small role in what befell Elia and her children."
"I choose to act for the greater good and discarded my honor for it." Jaime added somberly.
"No, you did not. Acting how you believe is right is the most honorable thing a man can do," she replied. "Kingslayer, a man without honor," she chuckled. "You may be the most honorable man in your family." He finally met her gaze and his lips almost formed a smile.
"I'm beginning to see why Myrcella is so fond of this place." She returned his smile and led him past the pools back up to the main palace.
Dorne, The Water Gardens - Training Yard
Trystane parried a strike from Daemon Sand's spear with his own, the pair dancing around each other over dusty ground. Daemon twirled his spear in the air and brushed off a lunging strike from the prince; he was Oberyn's squire, knighted by the Red Viper himself and thought to be just behind him in skill. With him in Dorne again, the prince had given his squire, Andrey Dalt, leave to spend with his visiting family.
"Could he stoop any lower?" The Sand vented as he dropped his spear from his left hand to his right and swept Trystane off his feet. He fell on his back with a small huff. He bent over and helped the prince back to his feet. "Does Doran wish us to be their slaves?"
"My father does not have fight left in him." He replied simply. Trystane charged his peer and narrowly missed his left arm as Daemon side stepped around the blade.
"And you? Are you so easily pacified?" Their spears met again and were deflected off each other. "He was your uncle." Daemon breathed out, dejectedly.
"Yes, and I know you were more than a squire to him." Trystane dropped his spear and put his arm around him. "He will be avenged. Do not think I plan to let them get away with their crimes."
"Does your father know?" Caution seeped into his sorrowful voice.
"No, he doesn't need to know anything until it has passed. He should think I'm still angry with his lack of action," the young prince assured him quietly. "The important thing is that we retain the element of surprise."
"What is this plan of yours?"
"The Sand Snakes and I will install Myrcella as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, as our law dictates. Together, her and I shall oust the lions from the capitol," he whispered their plot into his ear. "Ellaria has met with the Ullers, Yronwoods, and Allyrions. I've managed to persuade Lords Qorgyle and Manwoody. Andrey will convince his brother to help and I believe the Daynes would join us as well."
"And you're just telling me this now?" Daemon was all grins now, his tears dry on his face. Trystane smirked back at him. "Tell me more," he requested, nearly catching the prince off guard with another blow. He picked his spear back back and thrust it forward.
"The Lannister host will have to be taken out tonight, discreetly." Again, Daemon parried a strike and sent the prince to the ground. He lent out his hand and pulled Trystane back to his feet.
"Well, what role would you have me play?"
"You were in charge of keeping track of uncle's poisons, right?" The prince asked knowingly. "My cousins already have their jobs, so I thought you could teach me how best to utilize them so I can do mine."
"It would be my pleasure."
Dorne, The Water Gardens - Upper Terrace
"You summoned us, uncle?" Sarella Sand and Willas Tyrell approached the prince from behind, her yellow robes glimmering in the sunlight. Her uncle was sat on his terrace as was his habit, watching the scurrying attendants prepare the courtyard for the festival. Willas leaned against the rail in front of him while she stood to his side. The prince gestured for Maester Calleotte to bring forth the scroll. The aged man bowed respectfully and handed over the scroll, seal broken.
"I have been instructed to deliver this to you," Doran offered the parchment to the Tyrell. He took the scroll and read it, his brows furrowing further at each word. Sarella glanced at him inquisitively.
"My cousins have been arrested by the faith militant," he began, the concern plain on his face. "The Shield Islands off our coast have been ravaged, entire families murdered by the Greyjoys. My grandmother wishes I return home and prepare our forces." He faced the prince again. "My apologies, Prince Doran, I must prepare to leave immediately."
"Of course. If you need any assistance, just ask," Doran offered. Willas bowed his head and kissed Sarella's hand before limping off to pack. Once he'd gone, the prince turned to his niece.
"My dear. It's time." Doran spoke sadly. "Things are happening much faster than I had anticipated. I do not know how much longer I will remain in this world. We must be ready." Sarella sharply inhaled at his words.
"Does Trystane know?"
"He knows some. I will talk to him tomorrow," The prince nodded at her implications. "I hate to ask this of you, but the sooner you can be on your way."
"I will be gone within the hour. I will not fail." Sarella knelt and kissed his hand.
"You give me no reason to doubt you, but I want Willas to accompany you," Doran added. "He will undoubtedly be going there and he knows the city well and can make sure no one asks questions."
"What if he asks questions?"
"Tell him just enough to satisfy his curiosity," he answered. "I trust I do not need to tell you to take your bow and daggers." She gave her uncle a final smile and left to ready her things.
Dorne, The Water Gardens - Lounge
Jaime Lannister took a goblet of wine from a nearby servant and took a seat beside Bronn on a long chaise. Before it could reach his lips Bronn snatched it out of his hands. "I'll take that." He took a sip and set it down on a table in front of them. "With your skills not being what they used to, you really shouldn't be getting any more useless. Not here."
"I could have you beaten for that," Jaime said sarcastically.
"Aye, you could," Bronn acknowledged, taking another sip. "But then you'd be stuck with those two bodyguards and neither could get you out of this place if they tried."
"We'll be leaving soon enough and there's not going to be any fighting. The only time we were in danger was when you took us to a brothel."
"And who did we happen to find there?" Bronn smirked as Jaime clenched his jaw. "That's right, the Princess Myrcella. I'd say I'm the most valuable man on this mission and you're a fool if you think we're not in for a fight."
"Prince Doran has granted us guest right. There will be no fight."
"Walder Frey granted guest right to Robb Stark, look how well that turned out for him." Bronn added plainly.
"Doran isn't like old Walder, he won't just kill us all at a wedding. He's a man of his word and I trust him." Jaime reasoned.
"No, I don't suppose he would. But the rest of them?" He begged the question. "None of them seem very pleased to see us and I wouldn't count on them playing nice. From what I've gathered here as a low man, people don't have much respect for their prince and he's the only one who's not violently outraged at our arrival. Our whole fucking plan is about to go to shit and you're too glib about your niece to notice." The frustration was clear in his voice. "We should get her and leave before the sun sets." Jaime seemed to consider his suggestion for a moment, but then fastened his resolve.
"No, I promised Myrcella I'd try to see this place the way she does and I'm going to keep it. Mistake or not, I owe her this chance."
"When it all goes to shit, and it will, you're going to regret ignoring my prudent advice." Jaime just nodded passively at Bronn, who swore under his breath, "This fucking family."
Dorne, The Water Gardens - Nymeria's Hall
Myrcella and Elia Sand sat side by side, each braiding the hair of the youngest Sands, Dorea and Loreza, into intricate buns. Elia plucked the golden snake clip from between her teeth and pinned it into Dorea's hair. The young girls gleefully ran out of the room, excited to show off their new dresses and try the sweets imported for the occasion. Tyene and Obara were helping each other with their dresses. Tyene wore a bright blue, low-cut summer dress to match her eyes, a shear silk white scarf draped over her shoulders and down her arms. She placed a golden tiara that ran beneath her golden hair and only showed at her forehead, two intertwined vipers. Another gold viper encircled her neck, along with a vial on a chain. She sheathed two daggers beneath her dress on each leg and another lay exposed, wrapped around her left forearm. Obara wore a golden-orange tunic and breeches, with a scarlet robe tied over it at the waist with scale-leather. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun that flowed into a thick strand of brown locks.
Nymeria dressed herself, she wore a silver chainmail corset under her lavender silk dress. It was cut low enough to reach her waist, the thin chainmail glimmering beneath. Vipers forged from silver wrapped around both forearms and ten silver rings composed the idzila around her neck. A vial on a chain, identical to Tyene's, hung lower past her corset. For once, her long black hair was not tied into a braid. Instead the black waves hung loosely round her face and down her back, somewhat covering her exposed back and short flame-bladed sword sheathed against her spine. Myrcella wore a yellow sheer sun-dress, it was puffy at the chest and wrapped around her shoulders. A gold sun was embroidered on her chest, its rays reaching across her body. She wore her golden lion necklace, matching the golden bangles on her wrists. Elia Sand wore a dress identical to the princess, except hers was a light red instead. Around her neck was a golden viper, a small orange crystal in its sculpted jaws.
"Is everything in place?" Ellaria asked as she rushed in to check on them. Her dress was sky blue, the same cut as Nymeria's, but she wore a large cape around her shoulders held in place by scale- leather epaulets. A golden viper curled around her neck, its open jaws hanging below her collarbone. She wore blue shade around her eyes to accent her dress, her lips stained a bright red.
"Yes, mama," Elia rushed up and wrapped her mother in a hug. Ellaria embraced her daughter before facing the room.
"Are you certain you're ready?" She asked the princess.
"Yes, I can deliver my uncle. It won't be a problem," Myrcella smirked. "He'll be hanging on my every word." Ellaria smiled back.
"She's got this," Obara reassured, patting the princess on the shoulder. "By the morning, we shall be on our way to King's Landing." Nym and Tyene smiled, finishing up their final touches. Elia handed the princess a pink flower which she dutifully tucked behind her right ear. The girls joined hands and readied themselves for what the evening would entail.
"Unbowed, unbent, unbroken." With a final chant, they went out into the night.
Dorne, The Water Gardens - Main Courtyard
Chandeliers with their candles burned bright, hanging off the terraces, illuminating the spacious courtyard. Men and women danced, their robes and dresses bright and flashy. Gold and silver and bronze jewelry shimmered in the candlelight. A large, stone platform sat in the middle of the courtyard, a bronze tower shot up from its center with a silver serpent sculpted around its length. Prince Doran sat on a chase directly in front of a great hearth, the flames spreading their warmth through the chill of the night. He wore a robe, dark navy, its gold trim and patterns sparkling with the flames of the hearth. A large sun pendant hung over his chest, hanging from his beaded necklace. Jaime Lannister found his way beside the prince, wearing a red robe, embroidered gold patterns ran up and down its length. He tied it at the waist with his own belt, opting not to use their scale-leather wraps. He nodded at the towering Areo Hotah as he took a seat beside the prince.
"This is quite the extravagant evening," he lauded, gesturing at the courtyard's many decorations, and the generous spread of foods imported from all over the known world.
"I would not have anything less," Doran replied. "My brother, he truly lived and I can only try to encapsulate his soul. I hope he would approve."
"I did not know him well, but I still remember your sister." Doran's smile fell at her name. "She was always a delight at court, even frail, her presence itself was always a warmth." Jaime paused, carefully choosing his next words. "I should have gone to her. The second Arys was dead, I should've gone and gotten her and her children out safely. I'll regret not saving her till the day I die." Doran was silent, eyes fixed on the dancers in front of him.
"You had many hard choices to make that day," he finally responded. "You cannot be blamed for the actions of other men."
"I'll regret it all the same." Jaime offered again.
"I do appreciate you saying so." The prince accepted his olive branch, "I hope in time, when my son is wed to your niece, we can put all of this in the past and move forward together." Jaime nodded gracefully. Andrey Dalt and Daemon Sand greeted the prince, heads bowed respectfully.
"A drink, Ser Jaime?" Daemon offered a chalice with his left hand, another already in his right.
"Thank you, but I'm not partaking this evening. I'm here for my niece." He politely declined, wishing to be sober around his niece. Daemon nodded and passed the chalice to a servant making his rounds. The two young men gave their regards and left Jaime and the prince to themselves.
Their eyes were quickly drawn to the courtyard, Nymeria Sand a group of her dancers made their way onto the platform. The stringed orchestra begin to play a lively tune and they danced, jewelry shimmering as they swayed. The men and women on the floors all stopped dancing and began to cheer on the performance. Shouts of 'Lady Nym' sounded loudly through the courtyard as the tempo of the music increased and Nymeria danced quicker, spinning and leaping around the platform. She cracked her whip in the air and coiled it around herself as she spun. Myrcella and Trystane made their way out to the courtyard and they quickly captured just as much attention as Nymeria. His royal blue robes and her yellow dress blurred together as they started to dance. He twirled her around as they danced to the beat and Jaime couldn't take his eyes off them. "They make quite the fine couple, don't you think?"
"Its a very fortunate match, these arrangements are rarely equally appreciated." Jaime replied as diplomatically as he could, not entirely happy seeing his daughter dance with the young prince. Fortunately for him, Myrcella let go of Trystane's hand and they made their way towards him.
"Care to join me for a dance?" She offered her hand and Jaime obliged, bringing himself to his feet and following her lead. The younger prince bowed respectfully to his father and waved Ellaria over from the down the hall. Doran seized his son's arm and pulled him closer to meet his glare.
"Whatever plans you have made, bury them," the elder prince instructed.
"I'm not sure what you mean, father. I'm simply going to ensure all our guests have a thoroughly good evening," Trystane insisted coyly.
"I am no fool Trystane, I know you and your cousins have made plans for our guests without my knowledge." His son faced him, feigning confusion. "I will not have bloods on my hands."
"No one will be harmed father, you have my word." His father gave him another glare and begrudgingly let go.
-
Jaime and Myrcella had already made their way to the floor and began to slowly find their rhythm as the songs played. Some of his men were enjoying themselves as well, although perhaps a bit too much from what he could see. Across the yard, Trystane was dancing with Ellaria, Daemon with Elia, and Andrey with Tyene. The three pairs occasionally brushing by each other, switching back and forth. Soon enough, Ellaria and the prince had made their way to them and brought them in. On one of these switches, Trystane dipped Myrcella in his arms and brought her back up into a kiss. Jaime's face went red and Ellaria gracefully stepped in front of him.
"Don't look over there if you're not liking what you see," without warning she dipped him, catching him off guard and grabbing his focus. "Look at me," she brought him back up and held his gaze. A moment more and she handed him off to his daughter. He tried not to think of Trystane as he danced with his daughter. He spun her in tune with the rest and then they faced each other once more.
"Your face was so red," Myrcella chuckled as Jaime just squinted in return.
"Try as I might, I look at you and still see a little girl," he replied honestly. She just laughed softly and took his arm as they swung back around. "But, you're not and I'll make my peace with that." Myrcella smiled at him. Ellaria and him exchanged another knowing glance as they passed each other by. Another song picked up, much livelier, and Jaime couldn't help but beam at his daughter's unrepentant joy. Myrcella's face lit up like the sun as they danced, he'd never seen that much life in anyone. He exhaled the last of his trepidations and allowed himself to simply be. He knew he'd dance here until his legs gave out from exhaustion.
-
Bronn walked up to Ser Arys Oakheart who was brooding under the terrace, watching the dozens of highborns dance across the courtyard. "You can take off the damn armor, it's a fucking ball."
"Ser Bronn, no matter what's happening, I am a kingsguard charged with protecting the princess. I will not treat my duties so lightly." His normally stern voice was a bit melancholic, brown locks a bit disheveled.
"I don't trust these people neither," Bronn smacked him on the shoulder. "But a man from King's Landing in full plate armor is only going to put everyone more on edge." Arys raised his head and locked his green eyes onto the sell-sword turned knight.
"Two," he held up two of his fingers. "Two kings have died in my time on the kingsguard. What kind of kingsguard lets two kings die and keeps on being a kingsguard? I cannot fail again."
"Well King Robert died under Barristan Selmy's watch, so your off the hook with that one," Bronn excused. "And you're not a damn wine-taster, so Joffrey's death isn't on you neither. Besides, I don't see Balon Swann skulking around about it. I don't see him at all frankly."
"Of course not, he doesn't care about his duties. He's only here 'cause the queen lines his pockets; right now he's probably passed out from drink."
"And you're here because?"
"She trusts my honor as much as she trusts Balon's self interest. But her confidence in my honor is greater than my own. I'm nothing more than this plate of armor. What a great honor." Arys's voice was dripping with sarcasm.
"Fuck the kingsguard then, you're further away from King's Landing than you'll ever be," Bronn spat out simply.
"I can't just abandon the kingsguard," he slurred out. "What would become of me?"
"You're better looking that half the men I've met and you're not a pompous prick," he answered bluntly. "That's a rare thing in a man, could take you pretty far in my experience." Bronn tried to meet Arys's hazy glaze to no avail. "If you want out, Dorne's your best bet." He shoved a goblet into the Kingsguard's hand. "Now that's enough whining, go and enjoy the fucking party."
-
"Uncle! Do you like my dress?" Loreza excitedly shouted. She twirled herself and the dress's blues and greens blended together. Doran nodded his approval.
"It is almost as magnificent as you are, my dear," The prince smiled sweetly at her from his chair. He waved over Areo Hotah, who was carrying a small box. Areo gave him the box and he opened it, a grand excitement fully overtaking his features. "Have you ever tried candied plums?" The girl shook her head. "These were my mother's favorite," he went on, placing one candy into her mouth. She chewed it thoroughly, her lips forming a smile. "Quite good, are they not?"
"They're delicious!" She exclaimed, snatching a second one out of the box. "Thank you, uncle," she mumbled through her chewing teeth. Doran just laughed.
"Be sure to leave some for your sister, Dorea will not be pleased if you finish them all before she can try any." The girl nodded sheepishly and ran off with the box. "The simplicity of youth." Doran sighed, breathily. He turned to face his guard. "There will not be many more nights like this."
"Do not say such things, my prince." He spoke as if to ward off evil. Hotah had guarded the prince for the past quarter century and was fiercely loyal to him. Before him, he'd protected Lady Mellario of Norvos, Doran's wife who'd passed from an illness. It would break him to lose another charge to an enemy he could not fight.
"I can feel it, Areo. I will not be here by summer's end." Doran coughed into a cloth, doing his best to stifle the sound. "Protect them when I cannot. War is coming, no matter how much I attempt to slow its progress. They cry out for it but have not the slightest idea what that word actually means." The tall guard nodded firmly.
"For as long as I stand guard, no harm shall come to your house."
-
One moment Gerold Dayne stood sulkily watching the night's procession and the next Obara Sand had kneed him in the back and dragged him onto the floor with her. They were dressed similarly in Dornish robes, his purple with a silver trim over a dark grey tunic. "We need to talk," she whispered in his ear as they eased into the flow of the dance. The party had begun to die down, half the revelers had turned in for the evening.
"If this is about that plan, the one that changes absolutely nothing, I won't have any part in it," he growled back. Obara took his arm as they spun.
"This is the plan, like it or not you're already part of it," she explained. "Besides, you owe me. Or have you forgotten?" Her hands rapidly switched places with his and she dipped him, much to his chagrin. "The kingsguards have decided to stay in their armor all night, so my sisters are dispatching the them as we speak and in the morning, Daemon and I will escort Jaime and princess back to King's Landing in their armor. That is unless you'll help. You'd be more convincing in the white cloak than I would." Gerold and her turned again with the beat; he didn't meet her gaze, carefully considering his options.
"And the kingslayer would just go along with this plot?" Obara knew this question would come up.
"We will not give him a choice. We will have control of the ship, our men will wear the Lannister's arms and infiltrate their ranks," she elaborated. "Once we've settled in the capitol, the princess will give the order and the Snakes and I will lead our men to seize the Red Keep and install her as Queen. No one will act against us, they won't risk her life." Over her shoulder, he saw a man he didn't know collapse. As quick as he fell, hands shot out to catch him, dragging him back into the palace. He squinted at Obara, who ignored his gaze. She wasn't the only one not to react, the rest of the revelers either didn't notice or didn't care.
"You trust this girl to betray her own family?" Gerold's intrigue crept into his voice, albeit harsh as ever. Another Lannister man stumbled hastily off the courtyard and crumpled into the dim halls.
"She is more ours than she ever was theirs. It will work." Obara held his gaze, unwavering. He relented and nodded. This time he noticed Daemon Sand, hidden by shadows, reaching out and snatching another man as he fell.
"Fine, for old time's sake," he let his words out in a huff. She reached her hand around his neck and kissed him, taking him by surprise. "Now it's really like old times." He gave in and they danced until the song ended.
Once it had finished, Obara smirked and led him off the dance floor, towards the dark palace halls. They walked past each room, their pace increasing with each step. Obara turned around once they reached her quarters, pulling Gerold into another kiss.
"I've missed this," she said breathily, pushing him against the wall. Another kiss and he lifted her up, then tossed her roughly to the floor. Obara scrambled to get to her feet, but his foot collided with the side of her head and she collapsed. He stepped away from her unconscious form.
"To think I'd fall in line so easily. You are of the sun, but I am of the night. You have your plans, but I have made my own."
-
Bronn stood on the terrace overlooking the courtyard and sighed. "Can't get one damn second to myself can I?" Bronn turned around to see the blonde who'd recently held a knife to his throat step towards him, a nearly overflowing goblet in hand. "What do you want with me now?"
"I'd like to introduce myself, properly this time." Her voice was sweet as she curtsied, spilling a few splashes of wine onto the floor. "Tyene Sand, Oberyn Martell's fourth-born." He stepped back.
"I've heard about you and your sisters," Bronn shared, "The deadliest women in Westeros, or so they say. If last night's any indication, I don't want any part of whatever it is you're trying to do here." He kept his eyes locked on the dagger at her wrist.
"I apologize for last night, I had no idea I was talking to the legendary Bronn of Blackwater Bay." She feigned awe, her doe eyes blinking as if on cue. "I thought I could make last night up to you, seeing as we never got to finish." Tyene held the goblet up to his lips. "Drink?" Bronn shoved it away from him and her piercing eyes narrowed.
"I'm not one to reject the advances of a beautiful woman, but I'll be glad to make an exception. I know whatever's in that glass isn't just wine." She rolled her eyes and took a long sip. She held it out again. This time, Bronn carefully reached out and took the goblet. He tossed it over the railing, "so what is it you really want?"
"Come with me." Tyene took his hand tired led him away off the terrace. She tugged at his arm, but he didn't budge. "What's wrong, scared of dark halls?" Bronn saw out a smirk cross her face, he'd been right. He drew his blade, formerly concealed by his brown tunic.
"I knew you would try something," Bronn admitted. Her smirk grew and she drew her own dagger. She leapt at him, swinging the blade to his chest, narrowly missing. He struck back and she bent backwards to avoid him. Tyene let the momentum carry her downwards and she swept him off his feet with her legs. Bronn fell back hard, his knife clattering on the ground. Not wasting a moment, Tyene pinned him to the ground with her knees and brought her dagger down; his arms caught hers in the knick of time, blocking the blade's path.
"It always ends the same," Tyene bragged. "You should't have fought back. It'll just be more painful for you this way." She pushed her arm down further and the blade just sliced his cheek, a drop of blood spilling out. Bronn, taking advantage of her confidence, roughly rolled her off of him and grabbed his blade off the ground.
"This fight ain't over yet," he challenged, his knife aimed at her. Tyene slithered back up to her feet.
"But it is, you see?" As the words left her lips, his vision began to blur. He lunged at her again but she easily sidestepped him and smacked the knife out of his grasp. Bronn leaned forward, hands gripping the railing for support. "One cut is all I need." She sheathed her dagger and stood over him, watching the knight crumble to the floor.
-
Half drunk, Arys had made his way to the dance floor , trying to enjoy himself for once, his eyes fixed on Nymeria, her last dance of the night winding down. Most of the revelers had retired to their rooms, only a few notable faces remained in the courtyard, the prince and a few of his cousins he recognized. She bent down and smiled at him. "You look like you're not enjoying yourself enough."
"Oh no, I do believe I am," he insisted. Arys sighed and took a chance. "Has anyone ever told you that you're very beautiful?" She let out a quiet laugh and smoothly brushed her hair out of her face. She gave him a wide smile, it was almost too easy for her.
"Well then, how would you care to enjoy yourself a bit more?" Nymeria winked and took his hand, stepping off the platform. He only nodded and followed, missing Nym give her sister a nod from across the courtyard. Moments later, they were in his guest quarters; she'd straddled him on the bed, kissing him sloppily. His armor was on the floor along with his tunic. He thought he'd heard a noise but was too caught up in the moment to care. She held her hands tight on his face, holding his attention in a vice grip. Arys reached to untie her dress while Nym's hands found her blade. A brief look of surprise spread across his face as his hands felt the cold steel, but it was too late, the weapon's hilt came down hard on his head.
Arys's unconscious form crumpled onto his bed as Nymeria slid off him and got on her feet. "Got it all?" She asked, watching as her younger sister gathered the last bits of his armor and picked up the helmet. Elia tossed it to her with a grin.
"Flawless as ever, Lady Nym." She caught it and rolled her eyes at her sister's jape.
-
Myrcella and Jaime sat together on a bench, eating grapes imported from the Arbor. "I see now." "See what?" She asked, playfully snatching a grape from his hand.
"This place, I see why you love it," he explained himself. She smiled at him.
"I'm glad you're enjoying it too." She popped another grape into her mouth and rested her head against his shoulder. "A drink, uncle?" She asked, taking a goblet from a servant. He watched his men hazily stumble off the floor and disappear into the dark halls.
"I'm quite alright, thank you."
Jaime sat up straight as Areo Hotah rolled the prince in front of them, not noticing Myrcella move her pink flower from her right ear to her left. "This is what I like to see," Doran spoke, satisfied with his evening. The prince let out a sigh of relief, nothing seemed to be amiss. He took Jaime's arm. "I'm going to head in for the night, but no need to cut the festival short on my account. I'll be there to see both you off tomorrow, I'm feeling much better about all of this now."
"Good evening, Prince Doran, and thank you." Jaime offered gratefully. "It truly was a lovely evening." The prince nodded again and Areo rolled him back inside.
"I'll have to try and arrange something like this when we get back to King's Landing, perhaps Trystane could help too. I know Tommen would enjoy it." Myrcella quickly got off his shoulder and turned to him.
"Really, you think we could have something like this in the capitol? Everyone's so stiff," she scrunched up her face as she said it.
"I know Margaery Tyrell has experience with this type of thing, and now that she's queen I'm sure she'd love to throw a ball with her sister-by-law." Myrcella hugged her uncle tight.
"Thank you, uncle Jaime." She whispered into his ear. He kissed her forehead and she went back to leaning against his side, plucking another grape from the bunch. He sighed and leaned back, feeling hopeful for their future. However, his eyes quickly focused on another scene down the courtyard. Horizontal on a divan across from them, Trystane and Daemon kissed, their hands plastered over each other's necks. Jaime shook his daughter off his shoulder, capturing her attention, and he gestured towards the pair. The worry drained from her face as quick as it came.
"What's going on there?" He asked her, the concern palpable in his voice.
"Oh uncle," she sighed, "it's of no concern." She suddenly stood and waved over at the boys. Daemon whispered something in Trystane's ear before they pulled apart. The young prince stood and made his way towards his betrothed.
"Good evening, my love," he took her hand in his. "You summoned?" Jaime stared at them both, confusion visible on his face.
"Yes, uncle Jaime saw you and Ser Daemon and grew concerned for my sake. I though it better he hear it from you, you do put it quite eloquently." Trystane relaxed and nodded along.
"I understand how this could be quite the shock, Ser Jaime. People further north tend to be quite restrictive of these things, you see, I think my uncle put it best," Trystane explained, taking a seat beside him. He gestured widely around. "This is a wide world and there is so much to experience, why should we deny ourselves half the pleasure it offers?"
"I hadn't thought about it like that I suppose," Jaime spoke carefully, his eyes fixed on his daughter's. He was being careful not to offend any further than he clearly already had. Myrcella nodded him on. "It's just not something that's appealed to me." As he spoke, he saw one of his men collapse in the courtyard.
"Well, have you tried it?" Trystane asked him quickly, capturing his attention again before he could stand. Jaime shook his head softly, trying to see what was happening. "It's never too late to try," the young prince suggested before seizing his face in his hands and pulled him in for a sudden kiss, immobilizing him. Trystane's lips forced his apart before the knight could react. A moment later and Trystane pulled back just as suddenly. Before Jaime knew what was happening, he saw another of his men fall. He stood up fast, but his vision blurred and the room started to spin as the darkness crept in. He searched for his words but found none. His vision worsened, his eyes only just making out Myrcella steady the prince from falling, the blurry form of Ellaria approaching behind them. She handed the prince a vial, who quickly downed its contents. Satisfied, his daughter stepped closer and sat him down as his eyes fluttered shut.
"Myrcella," was all he could mutter as his head hit the cushion, the darkness enveloping him fully.
End