Coryanne

Coryanne gasped for breath as her head broke the water surface. She let her feet touch the soft ground and stood straight.

She reached into the water with both hands and splashed a handful of water on her face. Some of the water went over the top of her freshly shaved head, trickling down her neck.

She had originally shaved her head in mourning of Garrison, her first husband, but she had done it several more times in the years since his death. She enjoyed the process of her hair slowly growing back and growing out again. She liked to experiment with new braids and styles each time her hair went through this process.

"Do you think Edgar will resent us?"

Coryanne smiled as she turned to look at Aliandra. "He will be having his own fun, no doubt."

Aliandra, who was sitting on a couch beside the pond, returned her mother's smile. Like her mother, she was naked. Her body was heavily oiled to protect her skin from drying out in the sun.

The Water Gardens were a marvel of Rhoynish invention. Maron had arranged for several ponds and pools to be formed. Some contained saltwater, while others contained freshwater. Some of the ponds contained fish that were harmless and beautiful to behold.

Chayora and Garin were learning to swim in this oasis, and they were happier than they had been for quite some time. Coryanne had urged Aliandra to give them a bit more time, and take some time for themselves in turn.

Prince Maron Martell had summoned them to Sunspear several days before to give them the news. Their children were to be legitimised, according to a message from King Daeron. Maron was busy with the unfolding rebellion; word had reached him that the Dornish houses that guarded the Red Mountains had closed off both passes to any travellers on either side. House Yronwood, the ancient rivals of House Martell, were said to be leading this charge, declaring that they would have no more part of the Seven Kingdoms.

With such a calamity on his hands, Prince Maron did not question the specific request of Aliandra to give Chayora her own name instead of Titus's. After assuring Maron that House Dalt would remain loyal, Coryanne and Aliandra had travelled to the Water Gardens to reunite with their children.

"We cannot wait much longer," Aliandra remarked ruefully as she made circles in the water with her foot. The smile had left her face as her body glistened in the warm sun.

The sun's reflection on her body was hurting Coryanne's eyes, so she turned away and resumed swimming with her head above water. "When shall we tell them?"

"We must speak with them today," Aliandra confirmed. "Then we must return to Lemonwood. The Prince has need of our support."

Coryanne sighed. "What more support can we give him? Even if Titus hadn't led half our men to battle, we could not match any one of those rebels." Keep Titus safe. Bring him back to me.

"It matters not to the Prince," Aliandra remarked. "War has returned to Dorne."

"It will not touch us," Coryanne asserted, sounding far more confident than she felt. She thought of Uthor, Celio, and Azul. The last she had heard of them was that they were staying with the Yronwoods. It galled her that they would prefer the company of those men rather than their own kin. Lucifer Yronwood was in league with the men who framed Uthor and Edgar for murder. How do my sons forgive that sooner than their own family?

She was especially worried because of the rumours which had finally come south. The second contingent, which various Dornish houses -including the Yronwoods- had joined, had been torn apart by battle in the city of Gulltown. She fretted for her sons, wondering where they were now. There had been no official account of the battle, not even who had fought against whom.

Coryanne gave a sigh and swam towards the edge of the pool, walking out as the sun began to dry her. Despite the Dornish weather, she found herself shivering.

"Perhaps we do not need to tell them the entire truth yet."

Coryanne turned back to look at her daughter and continued. "You were not as young as Chayora when we told you of your position."

"You did not have to tell me," Aliandra retorted, giving her mother a sad smile. "I sensed that I was different from how others spoke to me. I may not have known the full truth, but I knew enough to wonder. Chayora is old enough to sense how the other children ignore her. I believe it is better to feel alone than to feel lonely."

Coryanne sighed. Aliandra had always been such a thoughtful, clever young lady, but it was only a matter of time before she reminded Coryanne of her true age. She approached her daughter and sat down beside her. "Suppose that she will feel lonely no matter what? Perhaps she needs only to know that she is not alone. She has us, she has a father, and she has your name. That is enough for now, surely?"

Aliandra was silent, staring at nothing as she was wont to do when she thought.

Suddenly, she looked at Coryanne with a thoughtful expression. "What will you tell Garin?"

"I will tell him the same," Coryanne answered, "what else would I say?"

Aliandra shifted her body so that both her dark eyes looked into Coryanne's. She spoke gently, but frankly all the same. "Answer me true, Mother. Is it Chayora that you wish to protect, or Garin?"

"What do you mean?" Coryanne frowned.

Aliandra sighed. "If you must have me say it, then I will. Chayora will be the Lady of House Dalt. When she becomes recognsed as my heir, where will that leave Garin? What will his father give him which compares to that?"

Coryanne opened her mouth to speak, but she was bereft of words. A part of her was affronted that Aliandra would speak so frankly about such a subject. No, you do not resent that. You resent that she sensed your concern so easily.

"Garin will always have a place in Lemonwood," Aliandra urged, "and nothing will be denied to him."

"Nothing was denied to Uthor, Celio, and Azul," Coryanne remarked, more to herself than Aliandra. "I always thought your father and I did a fine job with you and your brothers. I never dreamed that they would have..." She could not continue.

"They were fostered," Aliandra observed.

"As were you," Coryanne retorted. "It was a terrible mistake to send your brothers anywhere beyond the Summer Isles."

Aliandra shook her head. "I do not know what to say, Mother."

Mother. Of course. She is only my daughter, after all. Coryanne sighed, "Forgive me."

Aliandra reached out and gave Coryanne's shoulder a soft squeeze, but said nothing else for a time.

"Ladies?"

She turned and looked behind her. "Yes?"

The attendant was a sandy Dornishwoman, dark-skinned and utterly unabashed at the sight of Coryanne and Aliandra's nakedness. She gave a respectful curtsy to them both and addressed Coryanne.

"Did you wish to be oiled as well, Lady Coryanne? The sun is still strong."

"That would be welcome," Coryanne answered with a smile. She stood up and followed the attendant across the tiled floor.

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

"Dondarrion?"

"No no," Coryanne answered with a smile, and she repeated the word for her son. "Dondarrion."

Garin repeated the word three times, pronouncing it differently each time. "What does it mean?" he asked with a frown.

"Does a name always have to mean something?"

"You said that my name is a hero's name," Garin answered.

"That is true," Coryanne answered patiently. She had hesitated over telling Garin about his namesake, for she had always thought it a tragic story. She would not have chosen the name at all if it was not for her late husband. Before his death, they had spoken of trying for another son, and Garrison had been adamant that he should bear the name of that legendary figure. Titus had been aware of that wish, and so Coryanne did not think he would mind if she paid that tribute to Garrison's memory.

She had only ever told Garin parts of his namesake's story; she thought it too soon to speak to her son of war and death. Instead, she had mostly spoken of how Garin's army had driven away the dragons with water magic, undoing their fire with Mother Rhoyne's power.

The Water Gardens contained a hall which was reserved for dining. Three musicians played in the corner as attendants brought in plates of food for the Prince's guests. Neither Maron nor Daenerys were present, so it had fallen to the Prince's cousin, Hiram, to play host. At present, he was sitting at the head of the table with Aliandra at his side. Coryanne kept Chayora with her so that Aliandra was free to flirt with Hiram.

She had begun this new affair when they'd arrived at the Water Gardens to collect their children, and Coryanne suspected that Aliandra had partly agreed to prolong their visit because of Hiram. Hiram was already married, but Aliandra had reaffirmed that she would not wed anyone. But will she have another child?

"Tell me about my name!" Chayora asked eagerly of her grandmother.

Coryanne smiled. Like Garin, Chayora loved to hear of her namesake, and Coryanne was happy to oblige. "Chayora was the youngest daughter of Prince Zamolxis of Walano. When she was born, the people of the Summer Isles thought themselves to be the only people in the world. They remembered everything in song. All their knowledge, all their history, all that the gods had ever commanded, it was remembered in their songs."

"How did they remember all those songs?" Garin interrupted. He was already becoming a skeptical boy, with a mind full of questions. "What if they forgot something?"

"The songs were all that they needed to remember," Coryanne explained, "but yes, sometimes songs were forgotten. But worse than that, the people would misremember, and these mistakes would last for generations. Wars were fought over those misunderstandings."

Garin and Chayora exchanged a glance. Wars were not supposed to be fought for something like that.

"Chayora was a bright young woman," Coryanne continued, "She spent years in the Temple of Love, learning the secrets of love-making from the priestesses. After eight years serving as an acolyte, she herself became a priestess in the temple. She was beloved for her devotion to the God and Goddess of Love, Beauty, and Fertility. Princes and princesses across the isles clamoured to send their own sons and daughters to learn from her."

Garin and Chayora giggled. Aliandra and Coryanne had begun to teach them about anatomy, but the lessons were early; they were children, and their curiosity was wont to amuse them more than anything. Petyr, the old maester of Lemonwood, had protested that they did not need to learn such things at such a young age, but these were the same fools who taught young women that their lusts were shameful, that bastards were an affront, that their virginities belonged to their future husbands. Petyr had even been so presumptuous as to dispute Aliandra's ascension of her father's seat. The conflict had escalated so steeply that the Martells themselves had needed to intervene and write to the Faith in Oldtown. A compromise had been reached where Chayora and Garin would receive education in both the Faith of the Seven and the Summer Isles' faith. Thankfully, they thought little of Petyr's conservative ramblings and much preferred the worship of the Summer Isles.

"Many years passed," Coryanne went on after the children's mirth subsided, "and Chayora was growing old. She had become the high priestess of the temple in Lotus Point, but one day, something terrible happened to her. She began to forget the songs which she had always known by heart. She had always tried to learn as much as she could about the world, about love, about the gods, about anything she could discover on those isles, and now she was slowly forgetting all that she had learned. She was so devastated and ashamed that she departed the temple. Twenty young acolytes refused to abandon Chayora and followed her."

From the corner of her eye, Coryanne saw Aliandra leave the table with Hiram, laughing at something he'd whispered into her ear. Before she left, she turned to see where her daughter was, but then she did not hesitate to take the prince's hand and disappear into the night.

"Chayora wandered the island of Walano, begging the gods for help. She did not wish to forget that which she had worked so hard to learn. She spent two years travelling to the islands, determined to re-learn that which she forgot, but her knowledge was like sand. The harder she tightened her grip, the more slipped through her fingers. She had always admired her elders, and she was respected in turn, but now she felt as though she were accursed. She no longer wished to live, and only ate at the urging of her acolytes. Many of them left her as well, so that only nine remained. She returned to Walano in bitterness and misery, declaring that she wished only to die at home."

Garin and Chayora stared at Coryanne; this part of the story always left them crestfallen. It was only two years since they had laid Garrison's mother to rest. Sotera Dalt had lost her wits even before Garrison had died, so that she continually had asked about him and where he was. Of course, even if Garrison could return from the dead and speak to her, she would not have recognised him. She remembered him only as a boy, whilst she did not remember her grandchildren and had never understood who Chayora and Garin were. Aliandra and Coryanne had always looked after her, though it had grieved them deeply to see her in such a state.

"One stormy day, her corracle washed up along the south-western shore of Walano. They had been taken wildly off course, and when they finally made land, they were far from any settlements. Her companions went to find help, leaving her the last of their supplies and some tools. Days passed, and still they did not return. Chayora lay alone beneath the shadows of several young trees. Her supplies were gone, and she was waiting to die. That was when she heard voices call her name."

The children's plates were untouched. They stared up at Coryanne, scarcely breathing.

"She looked for who was speaking to her, but she saw nobody. Then she realised the truth. The trees were speaking her with the voices of the god and goddess. They spoke to her of many things, too much to remember in her state. They whispered their laws, just as she'd been taught by the songs. She wanted to remember, but she did not trust herself any longer. So she took the sharpest stone that she could find and began cutting into the trees' bark. At first she carved pictures of what she heard, then she carved pictures of all else that she knew. She drew the Summer Isles as she remembered from her travels. She drew various acts of lovemaking which had been taught to her and which she had taught to countless men and women across her life. She carved the likenesses of her father, her family, various princes that she had met, the peoples that she had seen. On and on she carved, determined that even if she were to die, the people might see her mark upon the world, given to her by the gods which spoke through the trees."

"The Talking Trees," Garin murmured, knowing where this was going.

"When her companions finally returned, Chayora had filled all the trees' bark with as much of her knowledge as she could manage. They gave her nourishment and water, saving her life. And she in turn told them of what had happened. They added to the carvings with their own drawings, cutting into the wood so that it would remain behind after they were gone. They vowed to protect and maintain these blessed trees so that they too might hear the gods' voices. They spread the word of those trees, and drew many others beneath their boughs. A town was soon built around the Talking Trees, and they were honoured and protected. New saplings were planted around them, even as others carved their knowledge into the first trees' bark."

"The trees continued to grow, so that the first carvings were raised upwards to the sky. As the trees continued to grow, they made room for more carvings. The acolytes of Chayora and their descendants created letters so that they could write their language down. Princes paid handsomely for these scholars to live at their courts and serve as scribes. From there, the isles put the Summer Tongue into writing, united as they had never been before. That language is still preserved on the bark of the sacred grove in Tall Trees Town."

"Can you take us to see them, Grandmother?" Chayora asked, as she always did.

"Of course," Coryanne answered warmly. "One day, you will stand beneath them as I once did. You can climb to the tops and see the very first carvings which Chayora made all those years ago."

She herself had done this when she was a girl. She had nearly fallen and broken her neck, but it had been worthwhile, to see the same ancient carvings which had endured for untold years. Aliandra had also gone to Tall Trees Town and done the same, confessing later that she had wept beneath the trees, to see so much ancient knowledge preserved forever. The town had been sacked and raided several times, but the trees still stood.

With that, the children resumed eating. When they were finished, Coryanne led them out of the hall and tucked them into bed before she went for a stroll.

The Water Gardens were much quieter at night. There was light from torches and the heavens alike, whilst the breeze was mild without being cool.

Coryanne did not know where she was going; she simply walked onwards, looking about her as she took in the sights of the Water Gardens. A few servants passed her by, while most of the guests were abed.

Garrison would have loved it here, Coryanne thought to herself as she felt tears go down her face. We might have carved our names into one of these trees. Perhaps Titus and I can do so when he returns. She felt lonely and miserable. She wanted to live properly, to embrace the beauty of the world, especially in such a terrible time when war was dividing the Seven Kingdoms and all within them. Even her own children were not exempt from these madness. How long will it take before the Westerosi people can see what we in the Summer Isles can see?

Whether by chance, or the will of the god and goddess, Coryanne beheld Aliandra beside one of the pools, crying out a prayer in the Summer Tongue whilst Hiram Martell knelt behind her. The prayer was cut short by one of Hiram's guards filling Aliandra's mouth as he clasped her braided hair with both hands. Other men stood by and watched eagerly, enviously.

It was they who saw Coryanne first. At first they recoiled in alarm, but their expressions turned to astonishment when Coryanne shed her clothing and stood beside one of the couches on the other side of the pond. They approached her eagerly, leaving Aliandra to her own pleasures.

Coryanne softly repeated the prayer of the Temple as she led the first man to sit down on the couch. She lowered herself upon his lap, even as two other men stood on either side of her. Her hands were full as her body began that familiar rhythm. Pleasure surged through her, both from within herself and through that which she gave to others. If this be madness, may I never know sense.

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

The sun was still rising when Coryanne and the others departed the Water Gardens on sand steeds. She felt tired and sore from the prior night, but she felt cleansed and cheerful as well. She could tell that Aliandra felt the same as she, and they led the children in a song as they followed the road back to Sunspear. The five Dalt guardsmen which had formed their bodyguard were also following them, but they had brought no other attendants.

Hiram Martell led his horse beside Aliandra's whilst his guards rode around them, saying little but occasionally flashing awkward glances at the two women. Too daring even for Dorne, Coryanne thought once again. She found it ironic how these men had been only too eager to bed both mother and daughter just metres from each other the night before, but they only judged the women for what had transpired.

Garin took much of Coryanne's attention by asking questions about House Dondarrion, and Chayora added questions of her own whilst Coryanne was busy answering. She repeated the legend which Titus had told her, and spoke of Blackhaven, their ancient castle in the Dornish marches.

"Do they hate the Dornish too?" Garin wanted to know.

Coryanne paused, and looked at her son with a queer feeling in her stomach. "Why do you ask that?"

"The marchers hate us," Chayora answered. Aliandra paused and glanced at her daughter with a worried expression.

"Who told you that?" Coryanne demanded of the girl. She could see that Hiram Martell and his guards were looking embarrassed.

"Lots of folk say it," Chayora answered, with all the innocence of her youth. "Uncle Celio and Azul said so. Uncle Uthor said that they tried to have him and Uncle Edgar killed."

Coryanne's good cheer evaporated with the morning sun's warmth. "Did they say nothing of what your father did in that regard? Did they not speak of how he defended Uthor and Edgar at their trial?"

"Aye," Garin answered, and his voice became smaller, "but Uthor said he only did it because of you and Aunt Aliandra."

My own son. My own son would dare to use acts of love against me, against his sister, against the father of our children... Coryanne did not know whether to scream or burst into tears. What did I do so wrong that I am punished for it in this way?

It was Aliandra who spoke instead, and though her voice was calm, Coryanne could sense her own wroth at her brothers' toxicity. "Your uncles are bitter men. They think highly of themselves, and of Dorne. And they hold themselves to be better than any man north of the Red Mountains! They define themselves by hatred of those people, just as so many Dornishmen do. So answer me this, daughter, how does that make them any different from the men who hate them?"

Neither Garin nor Chayora responded to her question. They simply gawked at Aliandra.

Hiram Martell was staring at Aliandra too, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. "It must be said, Lady, that there is much hatred for Dorne. Look how many are fighting for the Blackfyres because of that hatred."

"Then why should any Dornishmen fight for that cause?" Aliandra retorted. "It is a desire for hatred to return! A desire for hatred and violence and hostility. What does it matter to such men if families are slaughtered over grudges a thousand years old?"

"How would you settle such grudges?" Hiram asked. "How would you have dealt with the dragons when they descended upon us?"

"Defence is one thing," Aliandra persisted, "but this war need never have been fought. Peace was achieved, and some men could not stomach it. Men on both sides who preferred to live with hate. And now they have unleashed madness upon the rest of. The same madness which would prompt my brothers to poison my daughter against her own father. How could anyone defend such a vile action?" Aliandra spoke calmly as ever, and that made her words resonate even more than if she'd yelled.

Everyone had halted their horses, either to have this discussion or listen to it. Hiram looked thoroughly unsettled and remorseful for provoking Aliandra's attention. He looked away and mumbled hasty apologies.

Aliandra was not finished. She turned back to Chayora and Garin, who were wide-eyed. "Say what you will about Titus Dondarrion, but he is not a man who is consumed with hatred. He strove to put an end to thousand years of hatred, and I will always love him for that. He was my lover, he is my mother's husband, he is the father to our children, and only a mean mind could find that more offensive than another thousand years of war."

None disputed this declaration as Aliandra turned and spurred her horse forward. Her head was high, and she did not look back at Hiram or his guards. The men rode after her, sheepish and subdued, leaving Coryanne and the children to follow.

The rest of the journey was carried out in relative silence, even as they made their way through the narrow and crowded streets of the shadow city outside Sunspear. Merchants of various kinds sold their wares to anyone with coin, guards kept the peace, whores plied their trade, and all of them hastily avoided the highborn on their horses.

As Aliandra determined, they would stay overnight in Sunspear and make for Lemonwood the following morning. The children wandered off along the Winding Walls, supervised by the guards, whilst Aliandra and Coryann bathed themselves.

Prince Maron and Princess Daenerys were absent until dinner, and their presence only unsettled Coryanne more. Both looked ill at ease and weary.

"It is a catastrophe," Maron declared to Aliandra when she inquired on the war. "Blackmont, Fowler, Wyl, Yronwood, and Manwoody have all joined the rebellion. And they have been joined by many others from across Dorne. Smallfolk are fleeing for the borders to make Dorne independent again!" He could not even bring himself to eat from the plates laid in front of him. "I must ride against them with whatever forces remain loyal to me."

Daenerys sighed. "The Red Mountains are impregnable; they will only be won at enormous cost."

"Impregnable from the north, Princess," Hiram pointed out. "From the south, they will be easier to take."

Maron nodded. "I will send the ravens tonight. I must require whatever forces you can spare." He directed the last sentence to Aliandra.

Aliandra nodded humbly. "As my Prince commands. My brother Edgar will lead them to Sunspear as soon as they are assembled."

Coryanne felt a pang of fear. Now the last of her sons with Garrison would be leaving her. Titus had gone north to spare her the trouble of losing her sons, and yet the war had taken them all the same. She barely tasted the rest of her supper as she thought with terror what would happen if Edgar crossed swords with any of his brothers.