Coryanne

"When will he return?"

"When the rebellion is resolved," Coryanne answered.

It was the only question Garin asked as he watched his father depart. At least he called him "Father" during the wedding.

She watched the ship on which Titus had embarked. It was sailing away with the rest of the flotilla, on course for King's Landing. He only just returned, and now he is gone away again.

Aliandra stood beside her, holding her daughter's hand. Chayora had hung back from Titus, nervous as always, but now that the ship was leaving, she waved a little arm in farewell. Would that Titus could see her...

She had never thought it would be an easy adjustment for the children, but even she was astounded at how steadfastly they maintained their distance from Titus. Had they been raised in the Summer Isles, things would have been different. Sex was not only a natural part of life, it was a sacred one. Before she had married Garrison, Coryanne had spent years of her life in the Temple of Love in Lotus Point. It was the same temple where she had sent Aliandra for her own upbringing. Coryanne had never been offered the chance to remain as a priestess, but Aliandra had. She had only turned it down because she did not want to give up her inheritance to House Dalt.

She did wonder what her late husband would have thought of this situation. Garrison had been a very adventurous and understanding man, even for his fellow Dornishmen. He had never tried to make Aliandra feel ashamed of her desires, not even when he had found out that she'd been found with four of House Dalt's household guards in her chamber. He had not known that Coryanne had bedded two of those guards as well, but that had been part of the first agreement; neither he nor she was obliged to share all their secrets, for some things did not need to be told. Of course, they had very much preferred to share their lovers after a time, which had led them to bedding Titus Dondarrion.

My husband. It was a strange experience, to marry again after Garrison's death, but she could not have imagined marrying any other man. Titus had been just as venturesome as Garrison, and handsome in an entirely different way. She did not blame Aliandra for being drawn to his dark red hair, his freckles, his charm... It had been a surprise all the same when they discovered that they were both carrying his child.

It galled her that she was surrounded by men and women who whispered that her situation was abnormal, even sinister. She and Aliandra had foreseen such a reaction, but it was Uthor, Celio, and Azul who had truly shocked them. All three had embraced these hostile opinions and openly insulted them. I should have sent all my children to the Summer Isles. I should have told Garrison it was a mistake to ward them to Dornish houses. Now look what we have reaped for ourselves.

Uthor and Celio had been fostered and squired in Yronwood; Garrison had insisted that it was a good opportunity for a knightly house, but the Yronwoods were rocky Dornishmen; they had always been firmly ensconced in the Red Mountains, fighting marcher lords and other Westerosi for countless generations. Bitter as they were towards men of the Seven Kingdoms, they still retained a great deal of their Andal ancestry.

When Uthor had discovered the truth, he had been furious. He had yelled and raged at his mother and sister for their conduct, as if he was in any position to judge them. Coryanne and Aliandra had shouted and wept, Edgar had turned on his twin brother in their defence, and the younger boys had joined Uthor.

"Mayhaps it isn't Titus' child," Aliandra speculated once as they sat together in a warm bath, their swollen bellies bobbing along the surface of the water.

Coryanne gave her a level look. "Do you mean that?"

Aliandra sighed and shook her head.

"You cannot let them win," Coryanne had insisted. "We will not lie to save face. The god and goddess would be displeased if we embrace these notions of shame."

"It will not be easy for us," Aliandra had lamented, "nor for them." She put a hand on her stomach to emphasise her point.

"I know," Coryanne had answered. There was nothing else to say.

Aliandra had proved correct. The other children of Lemonwood were no better than their mothers and fathers. Nobody dared to speak ill of Garin and Chayora in their mothers' presence, but Coryanne could sense that which was unsaid. The worst was that the children themselves had been infected by all this ill will around them. Nay, not infected. It is not a sickness; a sickness does not choose to hurt. This is a poison.

Coryanne had often wondered whether it was better to send Garin and Chayora to the Summer Isles so that they might be spared these judgments, but the sea had grown more treacherous in the years since Aliandra had travelled to the Summer Isles. Pirates were roaming the Narrow Sea in greater numbers than had been seen in a generation. Traders from the Summer Isles spoke of raids against the islands, capturing and enslaving thousands, taking them to Essos in great slave ships. Neither Coryanne or Aliandra had a wish to risk their children's lives.

Now that Titus was back, she hoped that things would improve. Titus would be a good father to them both, and he would provide them names other than 'Sand'. She hated that this was a requirement in the Seven Kingdoms, but a bastard was always looked down on, even in certain parts of Dorne.

"Come, then," Coryanne said once the ships were specks on the horizon, "Let's be on our way, children." Prince Maron Martell had invited them to join him at the Water Gardens later that day.

It took less than two hours by horse to reach the palace. Prince Maron Martell had ordered its construction as a wedding gift to his wife, Daenerys. Such was the scope and ambition of the Water Gardens that they had only been finished the year before, after seven years of work.

The Water Gardens were a marvel; an oasis built out of the desert, standing beside the sea. Coryanne marvelled at how much had changed. Her father's family had slain a Targaryen queen, brought her down from the sky, her dragon smashing the Hellholt's tallest tower with its death throes. The sun-baked bones of Meraxes were still on display in the castle. Coryanne had gone to lie amongst the bones many times as a girl. She'd taken her first boy and her first girl to rut within the ribcage of a dragon. Now the dragons were gone, and the Dornish built the Water Gardens to accommodate their new Targaryen princess.

Although many Dornish resented Maron's efforts, particularly the cost of such an extravagance, Daenerys was a generous woman. She invited Dornish children to come play in her palace of marble and fountains, and so they had come in their dozens. Nobly born, baseborn, bastard born, it made no difference to Daenerys and Maron. If Coryanne felt generous, she would attribute it to their great hearts and boundless compassion, but she also could not help but see the brilliance of such a tactic.

Now she lay upon a reclining couch on the terraces overlooking gardens and watched Garin and Chayora squeal and laugh together as they doused themselves with cooling water. Their mothers sat to the side, eating blood oranges and crabs cooked in olive oil.

Prince Maron and Princess Daenerys sat near them, taking part in the delicacies.

"I hear that congratulations are in order," Maron remarked, smiling at Coryanne.

"Thank you, Prince Maron," Coryanne answered him, returning his smile.

"I was beginning to think that you would remain married to my cousin's memory for the rest of your years," Maron observed. His words were kindly meant, and his voice was gentle. "Truly, I am relieved that you found some new happiness."

"I will not say that I have it yet," Coryanne replied, "not until my husband returns home from war."

"May he return swiftly," Princess Daenerys interjected. "I pray for my nephew's safety, and I shall pray for your husband as well."

Coryanne wished that prayers were all that was needed to keep them safe. But truthfully, that was not all which concerned her.

There was something different about Titus which unnerved her. His exile in Essos had been rewarded, but not without cost. His face boasted a number of scars, including one across his eye. It had been a miracle that he hadn't lost the sight of it. But she recalled how he had screamed in his sleep when they'd shared a bed in Lemonwood, and again in Sunspear. Once he had awoken, and wept like a child when she had tried to soothe him.

A servant stepped out upon the terrace and stood beside Prince Maron. "Lord Gargalen has arrived."

"Very good," Maron declared.

Coryanne sat up as Lord Larak Gargalen strode into the palace. His was a noble house who had always been among the foremost of House Martell's bannermen, and Larak was proud of his position. Coryanne thought him haughty and hot-blooded, but his youngest son, Lorenz, was a cheerful young man with a kind heart. It had taken some discussion with Lord Gargalen - along with the promise of a heftier dowry than Coryanne had thought necessary - but the betrothal had been made. Lorenz would take Aliandra's name and become the Knight of Lemonwood once he came of age. Only three months from now.

Now, however, Larak looked darkly upon Coryanne and Aliandra as he strode towards them. His unfriendly eyes flicked from them to the children as they frolicked together.

"A fine day to you, Lord Gargalen," Aliandra spoke respectfully. "It is good to see you again."

Much to Coryanne's shock, Lord Gargalen ignored her, and turned to Prince Maron, "My prince, I have come to assure you that I will answer your summons."

Maron had also sat up and gave a wry half-smile. "My thanks, Lord Gargalen. Unfortunately, you are too late to embark with my cousin. He has departed already, along with House Dalt's contribution."

Nobody missed the meaning of Maron's words. Lord Gargalen's jaw twisted for a moment, but his voice was level when he replied.

"I regret that my men were not ready for the first contingent. My holdings are further away. We shall ride for King's Landing as soon as they are ready. I will personally lead my forces, as will my sons."

All your sons? "I trust that you do not include Lorenz?"

"Why not?" Lord Gargalen spoke dismissively to Coryanne. "He will serve as my squire."

He gave the prince another bow before going back the way he came.

Aliandra and Coryanne exchanged another look, then they excused themselves from Prince Maron's side and followed after Larak.

He heeded them not and strode on through the triple archway, across the courtyard, and into the shadow of the gate. Several men stood by with horses, wearing the red cockatrice which defined House Gargalen's sigil. Coryanne and her daughter were able to confront Larak whilst he was forced to wait for the horses to be untied and organised.

"Lord Gargalen," Coryanne declared, loudly enough so that all eyes turned to face them. "A moment of your time!"

Larak was not so foolish as to ignore them in front of so many witnesses. He looked at them coldly, "A moment and nothing more. I am a busy man."

"Then I will be frank. Why are you taking your youngest son to war? And when do you mean to have him marry, if I may ask?" Aliandra restrained herself ably, but Coryanne could intuit the suspicion and worry that her daughter was feeling.

"To you? Never." Larak spoke brusquely. "I will not have the wedding continue."

Coryanne stepped forward immediately, even as Aliandra was still reacting to his words. "How dare you speak that way to my daughter!"

"I will speak as I wish!" Larak was undaunted by Coryanne's anger. "I will not have my son's inheritance taken by an exile, much less a marcher!"

"What madness is this?" Coryanne was unable to stop herself from yelling, and she ignored the reactions of those watching her. "If I were a man, I would have you defend those words with your body!"

"Nay, none of that. You are but a woman, and a treacherous one at that. I have on good authority that Aliandra means to legitimise her bastard daughter by Titus Dondarrion."

Coryanne was stunned. She saw Aliandra give her a look of confusion and alarm.

"You see?" Larak gestured at them contemptuously as he addressed those watching the argument. "The truth of it is plain to see. I consented to this marriage with no small reluctance, but I put my faith in their good word. This is how they wish to reward me? Reward my son?"

"It is true that we spoke of legitimising Chayora," Aliandra began, "but we wished for her to take Titus' name. You are gravely mistaken if you think otherwise!"

"I think not," Larak countered heatedly, "Your own brother was good enough to warn me of your little conspiracy."

Coryanne had been ready to shout at Lord Gargalen, to defend Aliandra, but this revelation drove all words and thought from her mind.

"I have made myself clear," Lord Gargalen announced, "I have a war to fight, if you please." And with that, he accepted the reins of his horse, swung himself into the saddle, and spurred his mount through the gate. His men hurried after him with bemused glances at Coryanne and Aliandra.

"That vile man," Coryanne declared, before erupting a series of curses at his retreating figure in her Summer Island tongue, but Lord Gargalen was already too far to hear them.

"Which one?" Aliandra murmured. A look of disbelief was plastered across her face, but her voice was quickly turning harsh with anger. "Which one of them did it?"

"We must find out. The sooner the better." Coryanne answered her.

They were ready to depart within another hour. Leaving Garin and Chayora in Prince Maron's care, Coryanne and Aliandra rode for Sunspear with all haste. They said little until they arranged for a ship to take them back to Lemonwood at once. Coryanne was too consumed with her own anxiety and wroth to begin much conversation with Aliandra, and her daughter was equally preoccupied with her own thoughts and feelings.

The voyage, which had always seemed so brief to Coryanne whenever she'd made it before, seemed to stretch for an eternity. Indeed, it was not until the red sun rested along the horizon that the Dalt women stood in Lemonwood's hall again.

Edgar was waiting for them, as Coryanne had had the sense to send a raven in advance, warning him of their arrival. He approached them with a morose expression. "Mother. Sister. Welcome home."

Is that all he can say? "Did you receive my letter?" Coryanne demanded hotly.

"I did, Mother," Edgar answered with a sigh.

"Where are your brothers?" Aliandra demanded, "I have questions for them."

"Then you will have to raise your voice," Edgar replied dolorously, "I'm afraid that the others left soon after you did."

"Left? Whence did they go?" Coryanne cried out.

Edgar gave a helpless shrug. "They declared that they would march with Lord Yronwood. I did not think much of it until I received your letter today."

Aliandra uttered a furious curse which caused a servant nearby to flinch.

"What sort of treachery is this?" Coryanne murmured, dazed by the dreadful news.

"I will send riders after them," Aliandra vowed, "I will have them brought back in chains if I must."

"And what will you charge them with?" Edgar was incredulous.

Aliandra paused, glaring at her younger brother, but then she gave a frustrated sigh. "Let them be banished, then. They fled out of guilt, that much is clear to me."

Coryanne flinched as she heard Aliandra's condemnations; she too was angry about what had transpired, but she was also grieved. Her own sons had turned against their sister, and so had turned against their mother. What would Garrison think of you, Uthor? And you, Celio? Azul? What madness has possessed you three?

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

Although letters were sent to House Yronwood, there was no reply sent in return. Aliandra was resolute in banishing her brothers, and she sent letters to other houses in Dorne that any house which sheltered them would lose the friendship of House Dalt.

Coryanne did not know what good that would do; House Dalt was a knightly house whose influence easily outstripped its power and wealth. Garrison had been well liked by the nobility, and his blood ties to the Martells had ensured his prestige. But Aliandra had yet to win such respect, and although a bastard might not normally provoke scandal in Dorne, Chayora's kinship with Garin proved too much for many of the nobles. That much was proven in the lack of replies or interest in Aliandra's proclamation.

The days turned to weeks, and Aliandra brooded on her situation. Coryanne tried to comfort her as best she could, but nothing seemed to reach Aliandra.

Their children remained with Prince Maron. Edgar had offered to go and collect them from Sunspear or the Water Gardens, wherever they were, but Aliandra had refused his suggestion.

"The children are safe there, away from all my troubles. Let them abandon their cares for this short time."

Coryanne was conflicted, but she also understood her daughter's sentiment. She remembered how the children had laughed amongst the fountains and felt that it was crueler to take them away from such an oasis.

What worried her more was what Aliandra would do now. The betrothal to House Gargalen had been the first acceptance after several rejections from other houses. Lord Gargalen had been grasping in his demands, but they had endured it for there had been no other options. To ask a second time would be degrading, and Coryanne wondered whether it was better to court some man of the Reach or Stormlands.

"Mayhaps even a Summer Islander?" she offered Aliandra one night at dinner. "My father did the same, after all."

Aliandra had become withdrawn and thoughtful over the weeks since their return to Lemonwood. But now she looked up. "Nay," she answered, "If I am to be disliked and disrespected for an act of love, I will not behave as if I have done something wrong. I have had my doubts, but no more."

Coryanne was heartened to hear her daughter speak proudly again, but she was confused. "What do you mean to do?"

"I will have Chayora become my heir," Aliandra answered. "She will become a Dalt, and a plague upon those who would look down on either of us."

A smile broke across Coryanne's face. "Sweet words," she murmured, "and your father would have been proud to hear them."