Titus

Coryanne lay beside him on the bed, the afternoon sun shining on her dark brown body through slits in the curtain. A mischievous smile stretched across her face as her nose rubbed against Titus', as she'd always been wont to do after they made love. "So, what was it like to be a bodyguard to a courtesan?"

Titus grinned, "Far less remarkable than you would imagine. You might not believe it, but working for a Keyholder of Braavos was much more interesting."

She laughed and shook her head, "In what way?"

"The courtesans paid me in nothing but coin," Titus answered, "but the Keyholder was generous enough to open a good account in my name." That was where the bulk of his savings lay, and though it was not a great sum, he was confident that he could let the interest build it into something more substantial for his autumn years.

Coryanne was almost forty-five years old; her hair was still black, but there were more lines on her face. Her body was looser, softer, more yielding to Titus' touch. All of it suited her magnificently, and her beauty continued to leave Titus with a dry throat during their trysts.

"Do you have any plan for yourself now that you've returned to the Seven Kingdoms?"

Titus had made a dozen different plans, but there was no good going over any of them now. Instead, he told her, "How could I make any plans when I had no idea what to expect?"

"That is fair," Coryanne said, before stretching her limbs with a groan. "Did any of those plans include Blackhaven?"

Gods be good. Titus still did not know how he felt about that place. He had been pushed into relinquishing his claim on the lordship of Blackhaven, yielding it to his elder sister Cassana and her fool husband Ser Baldric Swann. Baldric Dondarrion now, more fool me. He was both curious and repulsed by the notion of returning to Blackhaven, not least because he did not doubt that Cassana would do something terrible to him if he showed his face there again.

"I doubt that it is my choice to return to Blackhaven," Titus answered, "but even if it was, I do not think it wise to tempt fate."

"If you did have a choice in your fate, what would you choose?" Coryanne sounded playful as ever, but Titus could sense that she was intensely curious as to what he wanted.

Ever since he had arrived five days before, Titus had spent his nights, and parts of the days, in Coryanne's bed. Aliandra had taken the main chambers for herself, and so Coryanne had another chamber for herself.

It was on the second day that Coryanne had explained where she and Aliandra now stood on his role in their lives.

"Aliandra was always fond of you, and always will be, but she has always been one to enjoy a variety of tastes," she had explained. "And anyway, she is finally betrothed."

It was Lord Velasco Gargalen's youngest son. He was set to marry Aliandra when he came of age the following year.

It should not have been a surprise to Titus, and yet it was. To his shame, he also felt surges of resentment. Was it too much to imagine myself as Aliandra's consort? Our child being the heir to House Dalt?

Titus was determined to banish these thoughts from his mind. It was easier to do when he remembered why he had fallen for Coryanne in the first place.

She had always been a bold woman, eager to explore the avenues of pleasure alongside her husband. They had taken Titus as their guest and he had spent the best days of his life in Lemonwood during those negotiations. I did not look to Aliandra in those days, I did not wish to have her then. That was what he told himself, but he was no longer sure of that. All the same, he remembered with shame his jealous lust for her when they were in King's Landing and he had overheard her with the Sword of the Morning.

Brynden Rivers sensed it too. He enjoyed using that against me, damn him.

"Titus?"

He was back in the room, looking up at Coryanne.

"If I had a choice?" He repeated. "I would wish to share my fate with yours. And I would give our son my family name."

Coryanne smiled. "Suppose that I wanted him to have mine?"

"Dalt or Uller?" Titus asked her, digging a finger into her side to make her squeal.

Laughing, Coryanne fell forward on top of him and planted a soft kiss upon his face. "Garin Dondarrion does have a nice ring to it."

"*"* "*"*"*"*"* "*"*"* "*"

A large whiskerfish was served on the table, so big that it had taken three servants to carry it into the hall. Various delicacies were laid about the fish: lizards and wildfowl, spiced liberally with mustard seeds or dragon peppers. Wine was plentiful too, in casks full of Dornish reds which Titus had acquired a taste for when he'd first come to Dorne.

Aliandra, the Lady of Lemonwood, sat at the end of the table, in the seat which her father had always used. She suited it perfectly, looking radiant as ever in a silken dress of yellow and orange hues. A light cape of purple was secured at her neck with a golden clasp in the shape of a lemon. Titus sat at her left, whilst her daughter sat to her right. Coryanne sat between Titus and their son, with Edgar on Chayora's right. His squire, Alyn Garner, was further down the table, marveling that he was permitted to sit with with the highest ranked people in the castle. For the first time in his life, he was enjoying the benefits of his noble name as a member of House Garner. Titus had even commissioned clothing to be made for Alyn which bore his family's sigil.

The conversation had halted, for the musicians were playing their final song of the evening. It was titled "The Sun and Spear."

"And from the east she came to Dorne,
So regal, bright, and proud,
The sun espied the lord Martell
And saw he stood unbowed"

It was an ancient song, and one which Titus had heard several times when he'd first come as an envoy. Garrison had occasionally sung it, when he was drunk enough to try his hand at singing. Coryanne, a far more accomplished musician, would accompany him on the Dornish flute, or the five-stringed lute which was often played in that region.

The singer was a greybeard named Dagos; despite his advanced years, his voice was still deep and melodious. Even with five instruments being played, he was heard by all who are supper in the hall of Lemonwood.

"T'was he alone did praise the sun
And bless her dazzling light,
He was her equal; he alone
Of Dorne possessed foresight"

It was clear to Titus that Aliandra and Coryanne were aware of the divided opinion amongst their male kin, for only Edgar sat close by. Or perhaps it was the will of Uthor, Celio, and Azul that they sat at the far end. Whatever the case, the three brothers kept to themselves and paid no heed to Titus. He could not ignore it, but nor did he wish to confront them over it.

What he also could not ignore was the fact that his children were no less shy around him, even though this was the fifth evening since his arrival. They did not speak to him, though they often spoke to each other and their relatives. They would look away when Titus' eyes fell upon them, and when Titus turned away from them, he was convinced that they were staring at him. They spent their days playing with other children, but Titus could not help but suspect that they were hiding from him.

Aliandra, Coryanne, and Edgar did at least try to make him feel welcome, asking him questions of his time abroad. He returned their curiosity with his own, for he had learned very little of what had occurred in the Seven Kingdoms during his years in exile.

"Nymeria looked across the land
And named Martell its prince,
But six great kings who ruled in Dorne
were loath to be convinced."

Titus had changed out of his armour, but he still wore the clothes he'd purchased in Braavos. As befitting the clothes worn by wealthy men in Braavos, Titus' clothes were a mixture of blacks and dark blues which went well with his black sword. His red hair and beard were combed and washed, and his body had been anointed with soaps and oils.

"For twenty years the war was fought,
and none could count the slain,
The sands of Dorne were crimson turned,
and crimson they remain"

Before dinner had begun, Coryanne and Titus had told Edgar and Aliandra about their discussion that afternoon. Both offered their congratulations, with Aliandra saying that more ought to be discussed after supper.

"Six kings, they fought, the prince and sun,
And lost their crowns for chains,
Six broken kings went to the Wall
To shout and curse in vain

Beneath the table, Coryanne held his hand. Each day, Coryanne told Titus more and more about his son and daughter. She spoke of when they had learned to run, the first words which they'd spoken, and the small gestures which had reminded her of either Titus, Aliandra, or Garrison.

Much as he had marveled at the first sight of his children, Titus felt himself growing more and more detached with each passing night. These stories were not his, and they were insights into two little lives, neither of whom contained a place for him. He had missed his chance in exile, and though he did not wish to discourage Coryanne from telling him more, each new tale gave him more of a sinking feeling.

Still, he comforted himself with the fact that he could make new memories with Garin, and Chayora too. It also gave him a thought which he intended to share with Aliandra that night.

But victory was bittersweet,
Martell, he was cut down,
But though Nymeria grieved her love,
She won his house renown"

So go and tell those warlords bold
Whose names inspire fear,
That all of Dorne shall ever stand
Beneath the sun and spear."

The hall erupted in applause, with cries of "Martell!" and "Dorne!"

As the musicians bowed and retired to whet their own appetites, Aliandra turned back to Titus and resumed their conversation. "Tell me, is the Titan of Braavos as great as they say?"

"Greater," Titus answered. He would never forget his first time sailing beneath the great statue. It was a watchtower, defensive fortress, and spectacle; its roar had frightened him half to death when he'd first heard it as he'd stood beneath it. Even when he'd left Braavos for Dorne, the roar had sent shudders down his spine.

He described the city of Braavos to his listeners, enthralling them with tales of flamboyant young men duelling in the streets by night, and of mummers entertaining the masses by day with their japes at the expense of any authority that they wished to mock. He described the Keyholders of the Iron Bank, one of whom had been related to the Sealord. He described the magnificence of the Iron Bank, the stark appearance of the House of Black and White, and the Long Canal, over which an arch stood with the First Law of Braavos engraved upon it.

"No man, woman, or child shall be a slave, thrall, or bondsman," Titus quoted, "I only wish that the rest of the Free Cities followed that law."

"You witnessed the slave trade, then?" Coryanne asked.

Titus sighed, "I spent two years fighting for the Stormbreakers. We were hired back and forth, or else we fought in the Disputed Lands. Some of the contracts were with Myr, Volantis, Tyrosh, and I never questioned it because I did not see much of those cities. It wasn't until we went to Lys that I realised what slavery really was, and that I'd been taking slavers' gold."

"Slavery is as old as time, and it will outlive all our descendants," Edgar observed, "but let us speak of something more cheerful, Ser. Pray tell us how you came by that sword."

A shudder once again went through Titus. "It was a long road," he conceded, "and a cruel one." As he spoke of the battle, he was reminded of the nightmares which still plagued his sleep: the wounded men begging for help as they were left behind then screamed in agony as they were trampled underfoot by the enemy horsemen, and the pain he'd endured because he'd been stupid enough to try his hand at recovering Doom from the dead captain. He had barely been able to stand with the others in their rearguard action, losing so much blood that he had half-collapsed. It had been young Alyn Garner who had brought him back to their camp and hidden the sword so none could steal it for themselves until Titus had recovered.

Coryanne looked upon him with a mixture of sadness and pity, "Why must men always run so eagerly towards destruction and death?"

Titus felt a pang of guilt, remembering Garrison once again, but he felt compelled to defend himself. "The Disputed Lands was straightforward fighting, at least. I did not have to ponder the morality of it; we fought for plunder and glory, and we killed or were killed. Give me that sort of fighting over a contract to fight for slavers."

"You fought for the Iron Bank too, did you not?"

It was Uthor, who had posed his question in a loud voice that was sardonic enough to express hostility, but polite enough that he was not openly rude.

"Not quite. I was a bodyguard to one of the Keyholders for a time, and several others besides. But what of it?" Titus asked.

"From whence did that wealth come? I doubt it was all through virtuous pursuits," Uthor observed. His younger brothers smirked.

"I doubt it too, Uthor," Titus countered, "but I do know that it was not through slavery. That is enough for me."

Uthor dismissed his answer with a shrug, and Titus himself felt that it was an inadequate answer. He did not admit as much, for he did not wish to give Uthor more weapons to use against him. Gods, he will have to find out about my betrothal to his mother.

When the feast was over, Titus walked with Coryanne, following her daughter to the large bed chamber which used to belong to Garrison and Coryanne together. Titus could not help but remember the times he had spent in that bedchamber.

Aliandra had another bottle of Dornish red brought up to her chambers, which she placed on a small table, around which they all sat.

"Firstly, my congratulations again on the good news. But when do you wish to marry?" Aliandra asked after another sip of wine.

"Any time that it is convenient," Titus answered. He and Coryanne had discussed the practicalities already.

"It will be a modest affair," Coryanne declared, "And I doubt any of our peers will have patience for our sort of wedding." Coryanne was not a worshipper of the Andal faith; like Aliandra, she honoured the god and goddess of love and fertility. She and Titus had already determined to perform a double ceremony with as little pomp as possible.

"All the same, I would be remiss to deny Titus a dowry," Aliandra teased. She smiled at Titus, "What would you have? A plot of land? A title in my household? I do not doubt that you would make a very good master-at-arms."

Perhaps it was the wine, or the fact that he still had not fully reconciled to this situation, but Titus could not think clearly on an answer. And her suggestion made him feel bitter as he was reminded of the Ser Lomas Tarly, the bullying master-at-arms of his own youth. I suppose I can't be worse than him.

"I shall have to give that some thought," he answered, feeling awkward.

If there was any discomfort in the air, Aliandra did not seem to notice it. "Of course, we can speak on that later. But I confess, I also have a request of you."

Titus flinched, "What might that be?"

"It concerns our daughter," Aliandra answered. "Dorne is generous to bastards, but I would not have other Westerosi look down on Chayora. I would have her take your name, if you could arrange it."

"I?" Titus balked at the thought. "Last I looked, I had no authority to do that."

"Your sister is married to the Prince of Dragonstone," Coryanne pointed out, "And why should King Daeron deny your request?"

Titus felt nervous; he had hoped that he would not need to approach King Daeron again within his lifetime. True, the king had promised him that he could return to Westeros as a friend of the realm, but he had wondered whether the king would continue to see it that way. And yet, Titus had not forgotten the way Daeron had looked at him on the subject of his father's death. His murder.

"I can only request it," Titus answered evasively, "it is up to the king to decide whether he will do it."

Before anything else could be said, a servant knocked on the door of Aliandra's chamber. When Aliandra ordered him to enter, Titus saw that it was Kesar.

"Riders from Sunspear!" he declared, "They bring a summons from Prince Maron."

"Did they give a reason?" Aliandra asked.

Kesar shook his head. "The Prince is withholding his words for your ears, my Lady."

"So be it," Aliandra conceded, "I will take ship to Sunspear on the morrow. See to it that all will be ready for sunrise."

After Kesar departed, Aliandra turned to face Titus and Coryanne again, "Will you two accompany me? The new year celebrations are due to happen in a few days, so we can stay in Sunspear for that. Mayhaps we can also find a Summer Islander to officiate for you."

Thus it was the following morning when Titus embarked for Sunspear on one of the sand steeds which House Dalt kept in its stables. Alyn Garner rode with him, as did Coryanne, Aliandra, and several men-at-arms who wore the sigil of House Dalt.

As always, Titus marveled at the sight of Sunspear. It was here that the Rhoynar influence was most evident in Dorne. Three walls protected the castle and the inhabitants, built to have a winding appearance. They formed mazes of alleys and corridors which any invading army would struggle to navigate. Titus had to remind himself that his father had once fought here, bringing fire and blood to the Dornish under the banner of the first Daeron.

Now he was escorted through Sunspear, and presented before the Prince and Princess of Dorne, both of whom gave him formal greetings. Did they even know of my exile? Or are they too polite to say?

"I shall have to give this news to my other nobles when they arrive," Maron began, "but I shall speak with you first, Lady Aliandra. The king has need of warriors."

What is happening? Titus wished that he'd asked more of what was going on in Westeros; he felt utterly lost.

"War in the North," Maron continued. "The Starks are struggling to put down a rebellion by some of their bannermen, and there is grave news. Lord Barthogan Stark is dead, along with many of his best warriors. His heir is not a man grown yet. King Daeron must needs send reinforcements to aid his northernmost bannermen." It was clear that the Prince cared little for the rebellion, or for the plight of House Stark, but the king's orders were clear. He wished for all the realms to contribute to the effort.

Later, he sat with the others in Aliandra's guest room, pondering what must be done.

"It will take Dorne time to muster some strength of men," Aliandra speculated, "but the course is clear. I must needs send spears to the muster."

Coryanne nodded, but she looked fearful; it was clear that at least one of her sons would have to go in Aliandra's place to represent House Dalt.

Titus could sense her thoughts clear as day on her face, especially because she did not meet his gaze. She dares not suggest it.

But Aliandra was correct; the course was as clear to Titus as it was to her.

He stood up. "By your leave, Ally, I will lead the contingent north." He patted Doom's hilt.

"No," Coryanne protested. "You have only just returned."

"All the more reason to prove myself a worthy servant of the Crown," Titus answered. "I can see to it that Garin and Chayora inherit the Dondarrion name, and there will be no need for anyone else to risk their life unnecessarily."

Aliandra gave a solemn nod, "My the god and goddess watch over you."

"I'm sure they will," Titus quipped, "I do still wish to be married before I depart."

Even through her worried expression, Coryanne gave a smile, and took his hand in hers.

Alyn Garner was in the room with them as well, and his eyes were wide with excitement. For all that he felt out of place in Westeros, talk of war did not daunt him. He had grown up on the battlefields of Essos, as Titus knew full well, and he tried to return the boy's smile. He could not help but wonder if Garin and Chayora would even mourn him if he met his end in the North. Well, let them have my name, at least, if nothing else.