Wife of the Wolf, Husband of the Sun.
Book 2
Chapter One-Hundred and Thirty-Five
"Take this away," Doran told the serving girl who nodded and set to cleaning away the food that he had been supping on. The cook at the Water Gardens had made his favourites, chickpea paste and flatbreads warm from the oven, warmly spiced goat and olives, and cake topped with thinly sliced blood orange and yet he had not been able to finish even half of it.
His stomach had been unsettled for awhile now, ever since Arya had died.
There had not been much left of the poor girl, when she had collided with the ground she had burst open and it had been a horrifying sight, Doran had barely been able to look at her for the moment it took to see her and ordered the men to clean it away.
Writing the message to Elia had been even harder.
Elia had never forgiven him for the plot to make her lady of Winterfell, and how he had used Ashara and Lauryn in it. And now, any path towards reconciliation had seemed to be burned to ashes.
And yet the world did not end, despite his regrets or his grief.
After it had happened Doran had almost everyone within Sunspear questioned, high and low alike. The children's septa, the servants, the guards, anyone and everyone who had been seen near Arya on the day she had died.
He had needed to question his grandsons as well, and they had seen him for the first time not as their grandfather who would balance them on his knee but the prince who ruled over them, he had needed to know and when all was said and done he didn't think that they would ever look at him the same way again.
The boys had lost sight of Arya for only a few moments, and it was in those moments that she fell. There was nothing to suggest that she had been pushed, but there hadn't been much to suggest to him that it had been an accident either.
And so, they had been in an endless void of fear and doubt, and suspicion.
He had overseen the transition at Sunspear going into mourning and was sure to receive the condolences of all the lords of Dorne for such a loss, it had been more to allow Arianne to tend to her sons who were all grieving for Arya's loss, Doran couldn't remember what age he was when he first lost someone but he knew that the grief was terrible, and the fear was worst.
The song ended, and you saw life for what it truly was.
But time had passed and soon enough Arianne was ready to take up her duties once again and Doran returned to the Water Gardens, at least in part to try and gain some measure of peace again.
But now the laughter of the children did not sooth him as it had done, now it just served as a reminder for how he had failed. Failed his niece and failed his sister, but he had done all that was expected of him as a prince.
That wasn't much of a comfort either.
And even now he was not done, he still had agents in Sunspear who answered only to him and not to his daughter who were still looking for even the slightest hint of foul play in Arya's death.
And there was still Lauryn.
House Dayne had finally replied to his ravens, no doubt because they knew that they could not put it off any longer and they could not afford to be seen ignoring the death of a royal princess.
A raven had come to Sunspear, bringing both House Dayne's condolences and it's agreement to discuss the fate of the baseborn daughter of their beloved Ashara Dayne.
And that was the other reason he had returned to the Water Gardens, Ser Gerold Dayne had asked that the discussion be held there in order to not disturb the grief of Sunspear with an unseemly discussion and Doran saw no reason not to grant the request, Lauryn was at the Water Gardens after all.
When he had returned to the gardens the first thing he had done was tell the girl that her family was coming, the poor thing had been terrified but she had agreed to be present when they came to see her.
Hopefully the pitiful sight of her would stir up some compassion for her, getting them to take her in might be the closest that he might be able to get to some sort of redemption.
And now the day had come, a decently sized retinue of stony Dornishmen had been seen riding across the dunes, heading towards the Water Gardens with all haste.
They would not be long.
Doran sighed and reached for his wine goblet and allowed himself a sip of the strongwine, it was his favourite and yet it tasted like bile on his tongue, before he placed the goblet back down and tilted his head back, rubbing at his eyes to try and stave off the headache that was brewing.
He must have drifted off to sleep, because the knocking at the door of his solar brought him sharply back into the world and the inside of his solar was darker than it had been mere moments ago. "Come in," Doran said, his voice rough with sleep.
Maester Caleotte slipped in silently, his head bowed in respect. "My prince, Ser Gerold Dayne has arrive with his entourage, he is waiting for you in the welcome hall."
"I see," Doran said and then narrowed his eyes. "Ser Gerold Dayne of High Hermitage, yes?" He had been the one to reply to his letter as well, it occurred to Doran then. "Not the Lady Allyria?"
The Lord of Starfall was Edric Dayne, all of twelve years old and his Aunt Allyria was his regent. He had expected Allyria to be here, but perhaps the arrival of the girl was too painful a reminder and so instead she would entrust the duty to her cousin.
"No my prince, just Ser Gerold." Caleotte replied and stepped to the side to allow Aero Hotah to walk past him, the captain of the guards bowing his head before pushing Doran's chair out of the solar.
The sky was a burnt orange and the air was just starting to turn cold when Doran arrived in the welcome hall, Gerold Dayne was waiting for him with disinterest in his eyes, his silver hair tied back from his face. "My prince," the Darkstar drawled, seeming to enjoy each word that left his own mouth. "I am grateful your hospitality, and I am certain I speak for all of House Dayne when I say so."
"House Dayne has always been a true friend, and House Martell has always been grateful to them," Doran spoke, the words practiced and perfect. "I was expecting the Lady Allyria to be part of your company?"
"I am afraid that Lord Edric has come down with a fever and Lady Allyria did not wish to leave his side, she sends her regrets and regards," The young knight smiled then, "But I have brought other Daynes to make up for it, cousins and nephews by the armful," he gestured to the small group behind him, some with silver hair and some with black, some with violet eyes and some not, but all had the beauty that House Dayne was known for.
"I gladly welcome all of you to the Water Gardens," Doran said with a smile. "I am glad to see how closely House Dayne regards their kin, for that is the entire reason you have come. Maester Caleotte, would you be so good as to go and find Lauryn Sand and bring her here?"
Caleotte, as always, was quick to obey. It did not take him long to return with Lauryn, who was dressed modestly and covered from ankle to neck, only her arms were bared and the only jewellery she wore was a silver snake that encircled her wrist, a gift from a suitor most like.
"Lauryn is the baseborn daughter of Ashara Dayne, beloved to all of House Dayne," Doran began as Lauryn came to stand next to him. "Lady Ashara is gone, and is Lauryn's younger brother. She is alone in the world, will House Dayne not care for their own blood."
"House Dayne does care for it's own, that is so," Ser Gerold began, tilting his head as he spoke. "But is not the debt yours, my prince?"
Doran frowned. "Say what you mean, ser."
"Was it not you who sent Lady Ashara to the North, solely to tempt Brandon Stark away from Lady Catelyn? It was not as though Lady Ashara had any mechanism to refuse you after all, you were the Prince of Dorne. What choice did she have but to obey you?"
Doran felt his breath stutter in his chest, to be so boldly accused of what he knew to be true was shocking beyond measure. "And by what right do you claim to know this, to know any of this?"
"By someone who knows, better than you." Ser Gerold said with a smile and then the screaming began.
One after another screams filled the air and their was the sound of steel crashing against steel, fighting within the walls of the Water Gardens and Doran felt his eyes widen.
Trystane.
He was about to open his mouth, to give a command, when all the Daynes gathered before him drew their swords. "Put up your swords, I am your prince!" Doran roared, trying to sound stronger than he felt.
"Not any more," it was not Georld Dayne who spoke, it was Lauryn and Doran might have taken a moment to feel more shocked about that if not for the fact that Lauryn then grabbed the head of her snake bracelet, pulled it free to revel a blade, and sunk it into his chest.
"My prince!" Doran didn't know if it was Aero, Caleotte, or both who cried out. Not that it mattered much as Aero was then set at all sides by a dozen swordsmen and Lauryn opened Caleotte's throat with her knife when he stepped close.
She stabbed him again, and again, and Doran fell out of his chair and landed hard on the ground, his gouty limbs flaring in plain but nothing compared to the pain from the stab wounds, Doran could not see him but he could hear Aero fighting, hear him dying.
Doran could hear crying and screaming as well, the children.
He tried to rise, tried to stand, tried to do anything. Arianne was in danger, she had to be told. Quentyn was in danger, had Yronwood joined Dayne in this treachery, Trystane was in danger somewhere within the gardens with his Forrester betrothed.
His babes, and he couldn't help any of them.
"You can come now, my lady," It was Gerold Dayne's voice and Doran turned his head to watch as two new figures walked into the welcome hall, one a small woman in purple silk with black hair and violet eyes, the other a tall and broad man with the same eyes as the woman but paler skin and hair that was more brown than black.
"No...dead, both dead." Doran tried to breath, but blood filled his mouth.
"And who told you that," Lauryn Sand cooed at him, more joyful in that moment than he had ever seen her before. "Oh yes, I did."
The woman knelt next to him and stared down into his eyes, she truly was as beautiful as men said Doran realised, and she did not look away.
Doran could not either, starring up at Ashara Dayne as he died.
End of Chapter One-Hundred and Thirty-Five