Kurt watched the assembled nobility of Westeros shuffle and move awkwardly into their places. The seven main seats, arranged in a circle in the centre of the great hall around a wooden table, had the sigils of each of the sigils of the seven great houses of the Westerosi continent carved into them. The wolf of House Stark and the Trout of the Tullys, the Lannister's lion and the falcon of the Arryns, the black stag of the Baratheons seated with the golden rose of the Tyrells and the sun and spear of the Martells. Placed behind the heads of each region, dozens of other seats were arranged were set for the lords to arrange themselves or be seated by their own overlords. Hundreds of houses, some powerful enough to field armies, others so small they could raise up no more than a dozen men-at-arms, moved around each other to find where they might be seated.
Lord Tywin marched down an empty row, taking his seat across from the Martell princess who were seated opposite to the Westerlands alongside the rest of the Dornish houses. Kurt marched in in the man's wake, his size and presence, combined with Rhaella on his arm made the lords of the realm part as if he was Moses before the red sea. Elia was escorted by Robert just behind him, and the rest of the Westerlands lords filtered in alongside the other five regions of Westeros.
Kurt immediately took one of the seats closest to the front, only just behind Lord Tywin. Lord Kevan Lannister, the only member of Tywin's family who was seated in the circle of lords for this was no place for a knight, even one from such a family as the Lannisters. Kurt took a seat on close to the end of a row, Rhaella seated next to him on one side as Robert escorted Elia along and sat her on his other.
Elia Martell took her place beside him without complaint, as they had agreed. Perhaps it had been coincidence, or maybe planned, but as they were seated across from the houses of Dorne, the houses from the southern-most kingdom were able to get a clear look at their princess as she was seated next to the spartan lord. The two princes of Dorne were already seated, and as soon as Elia herself came into view, Oberyn Martell stood from his seat, the wooden chair making a scraping sound as it was pushed back along the stone floor of the great hall.
Elia felt the gazes of her countrymen and tried to flash her two brothers looks of reassurance. Whether or not it was correctly received could be debated, for as Doran Martell gave his sister a silent nod of greeting, Oberyn instead circled the table and moved to embrace his sister.
"Elia." He exclaimed, drawing the attentions once again of the assembled nobility if they were not already eyeing the returned royals.
"Oberyn." Elia returned her brother's exuberance with a relieved and happy smile.
The two almost collided, though the force of their meeting was contributed to more by Oberyn than Elia.
"It is good to see you again Oberyn." Elia said, returning his embrace.
The two siblings remained connected for a few moments before the younger prince of Dorne pulled back.
"Are you well?" He asked, looking her over. "The gown is a thing of beauty, but I need to hear from you, dear sister, that these savages have not harmed you."
Elia's eyes flickered over to Kurt, who regarded them with an expression of complete neutrality. Oberyn's eyes followed hers, coming to rest on the figure of the spartan lord. A fury descended over his features before he released his sister and marched up to the man.
"You." He growled.
"Oberyn, stop." Elia tried to keep her brother from starting trouble with the man who held her children's lives in his hands. Lord Kurt seemed more than anything, a calm and pragmatic man, not prone to letting emotions make his decisions, but she wanted to give the man as little reason as possible to keep her from her family.
Kurt only rose from his seat as the prince approached, stopped from moving forwards by Rhaella's hands holding his own. Prince Oberyn it seemed, was not intimidated by the spartan's massive size. Standing above six feet tall, Oberyn was used to standing taller than most. Compared to Kurt however, he was tiny. His eyes met the centre of his chest, not even to his collarbone, and standing chest to chest, he had to arch his head back to look up into the man's face.
"Prince Oberyn." Kurt's voice was the pinnacle of level, not a tremor or dip that showed even a hint of nervousness. He stared down the prince of Dorne with a look that was almost condescending, as if Oberyn was just an item on a list for the man to be done with.
Oberyn looked the man up and down, pausing only to look at where Rhaella's hands held his arm, as if she might be able to hold him back.
"I have heard much about the new traitors of the west since Harrenhall." He hissed.
"Oberyn." Elia snapped but could not stop her brother.
"An undefeatable man, they called you. Impossible for any man not your own to fell, and even then, it was rare. I'd even heard that you might be a god in mortal skin."
Oberyn glanced up and down, noting his skin, what little of it was exposed, the slopes of his face.
"Now I see you here, and you're nothing but men. Not gods, to decide the fate of all of us, just men, who have betrayed your rightful rulers."
The prince's hand slid down his side, hand coming to the hidden knife that Kurt could see was concealed at his hip. It was a good hiding spot, and had it been anyone but a spartan, the man might have been able to keep the motion looking natural, as if he wasn't going for a blade.
Faster than the prince could react, the hand that Rhaella was not holding snapped like a snake, grasping the hilt of the blade from the prince's side. He had the blade in his hand and before his face, examining its edge with a critical eye, before Oberyn could even react.
"A fine blade." He said, seeming to not even register the prince's surprised gaze, as well as that of Elia and whomever else might have been watching them.
"Coated with something." He said, examining the slight unnatural shine that the blade gave off under the light of the sun streaming in through the stain glass windows. "Some kind of poison I expect, though we can't be sure of which one until we've examined it further."
In a flash, Kurt had the knife at Oberyn's throat and the man himself stilled from where he had been reaching to perhaps reclaim his blade. Elia gasped, and Kurt could see a group of Dornish lords getting up from their seats as he threatened their prince.
The blade held against Oberyn's neck was lowered, not having so much as cut the skin as Kurt had used the blade's blunted end rather than the other, sharper side. As soon as it was away, Oberyn relaxed slightly, and Kurt gestured for Robert to come forwards. The alpha-company spartan made his way forwards from where he had been standing to the side of the hall, carrying with him a box.
"Robert, take this." Kurt handed over the knife. "Keep it for the duration of the meeting today. Lord Oberyn may have it back when the day concludes, as befits the behaviour of a child."
There was a slight laugh from the surrounding lords, breaking some of the tension that had built over the course of the confrontation. Oberyn Martell, it seemed, did not appreciate being called a child, a snarl forming on his face. Kurt offered him no response, instead placing his hand on the prince's shoulder, and pulling him closer.
As soon as he was close enough, Kurt bent down and whispered loudly into his ear, loud enough that Elia, Rhaella, and some of the assembled lords could hear.
"Please Prince Oberyn, this behaviour is undignified of a man of your rank. If we cannot engage in discourse without resorting to such acts of violence, please at least make sure you have a plan that has an actual chance of success, rather than whatever foolish scheme you concocted."
To emphasise his point, Kurt squeezed down on the prince's shoulder, stopping short of causing any serious damage, but enough to make the man yelp at the sudden strength of his grip. As Kurt let go, Oberyn stumbled back slightly, looking murderous at the Lord of Fair Isle. Elia took that opening to get between her captor and brother, trying to sooth his wounded pride and hot temper and prevent him from getting himself, or her children, killed.
"What do you think you were doing?" She hissed.
Turning to her chaperone for the meeting, she tried to affect her voice with a tone of sincere apology, only slightly exaggerating it for effect.
"My lord, I apologise deeply for the actions of my brother. I hope this will not sour your impression of the honour of my homeland. I assure you we are not all as tactless as my dear brother."
Despite having his life ineffectively threatened just moments before, Kurt did not seem at all angered by the attempt. Instead, he only offered Elia what he hoped was a reassuring smile, though given that he offered it only moments after the princess' brother had attempted to end his life, if might not have had the desired effect for the rest of those in attendance.
"Of course, Princess Elia." He nodded. "Tensions and tempers are all rather high given the circumstances. I would of course be remiss not to pardon some hasty words of judgements. Rest assured that so long as our agreement remains valid, there is little that can be done here that will sway me from honouring our terms."
Elia sighed, relieved at the man's tolerance.
"If you will excuse me, my lord." She curtsied slightly. "I would appreciate some time to speak with my brothers."
Kurt waved her away.
"Of course, please, speak with your family. I would never try and keep you."
Of course, the listening and tracking devise sown into the dress would inform his teams of everything they might discuss, after which any relevant information would be passed on to him if she tried to weasel out of their agreement. Kurt's attention was pulled away from Elia's retreating form, surrounded soon by Oberyn, Doran, and about half the kingsguard, to Rhaella instead, who released his arm when he once again took his seat next to her.
"Thank you." She said softly, placing her hands in her lap. "For allowing Elia to speak with her brothers."
"Of course. They were separated long before we came, it will be good for her to speak with them."
Rhaella almost flinched at the matter-of-fact reminder that Aerys had kept her good-daughter all but captive to ensure the loyalty of the Dornish.
"And hopefully Elia can convince them that the terms that she reached with us are the best way to prevent further bloodshed."
Rhaella couldn't help but doubt that. After all, the words of House Martell were well earned. 'Unbowed unbend unbroken', a maxim that defined not just the ruling house, but the people of the kingdom in general. Rhaella offered a silent prayer to Elia in that moment, for she would need all the support she could muster to convince her family and people of just how important it was to keep the spartans of House Terra satisfied and placated. If she couldn't, Rhaella preferred not to think about the alternative, as filled with the deaths of her family as it would inevitably be.
Elia pulled Oberyn along behind her, followed closely by Doran. Though she would have preferred to speak with her family in private, she knew that the three kingsguard who followed behind them were also important to the conversation that was about to be had. Entering into a hallway off of the great hall, Elia shoved her younger brother forwards, with Doran walking slowly behind them. Her brother had long suffered from gout, though it seemed to have been worsening in recent years. The prince of Dorne, who could once have stood tall before her, now needed a walking stick in order to relieve himself of some of the pain of walking with his condition.
Behind the ruling prince of Dorne, her uncle Lewyn, flanked by Lord Commander Hightower and Ser Arthur, followed them until the group of six was sequestered away from the rest of the lords of the realm.
"Elia." Oberyn protested, turning from where she had pushed him into the hallway.
"Quiet Oberyn." She hissed, looking around.
"Listen to her Oberyn." Doran said, coming up behind them and bringing them deeper into the hallway.
The other three kingsguard closed the rear, preventing anyone from getting close enough to eavesdrop on what was being said.
"This is our chance Doran." Oberyn protested in a whisper. "Elia is here, we can retrieve Aegon and Rhaenys from the Westerlands' camp during the meeting, Lord Tyrell's and our armies can crush the rebels here."
"Aegon and Rhaenys aren't here." Elia hissed, fear gripping her heart. Her head whipped around, trying to make sure that no one might have heard her brother's words
The revelation got the attention of all five men.
"Not here?" Arthur asked. "Are they…"
"Alive and well." Elia said, relieved as it seemed none had gotten close enough to listen in. "Lord Ambrose is not Tywin Lannister. He has decided to keep Aegon and Rhaenys away, while I make the public announcement of the abdication of their claims to the Iron Throne."
"Cowards." Lord Commander Hightower spat. "That they would hold children captive to force a mother to surrender their birth right."
"Wise though." Doran said softly. "No doubt they assumed that if they brought Aegon and Rhaenys to the capital, they would have had to make a public spectacle out of it. Such a thing would have posed too many risks, both for them and their captives."
"And now?" Arthur asked. "What are we to do. If Elia abdicates the claims of Aegon and Rhaenys, only Viserys, Princess Lyanna's son, and Robert hold reasonable claims."
"Unless another Aenys Blackfyre decides to arrive and challenge for the right to sit the throne." Oberyn joked, though there was no humour in his voice.
"You will not be able to rally behind Viserys or the wolf girl's son either." Elia said calmly, only the barest hints of distaste creeping into her voice as she spoke of Princess Lyanna.
"Rhaella will abdicate Viserys' claim the same as I will Aegon and Rhaenys', and Dorne will never lend their support behind Rhaegar and Lyanna's son. I won't allow it."
Ser Gerold ground his teeth as he listened to Elia.
"Princess Elia, without Aegon or Viserys, Princess Lyanna's son is the closest relation to Aerys or Rhaegar. By all rights, should you comply with Lord Terra's demands, all loyal men, including those of Dorne, must swear their swords to him."
Elia almost laughed.
"And you think that any idea of blood right will matter to these men. Kings did not kneel to Aegon Targaryen because he had the right of blood, nor to Maegor because he was first in line."
"Their families swore oaths." Arthur argued. "Rhaegar's son is next in line, he will sit the throne, or I am not kingsguard, or the sword of the morning."
"Then return Dawn to the mantle at Starfall Arthur." Oberyn hissed. "No true son of Dorne would bow to the bastard son of that unfaithful swine, no matter what septon declares their union lawful."
"That is your prince you speak of." Ser Gerold snarled, hand on the hilt of his sword.
"And a dead man." Doran returned, tone taking on an unusual heat. "Killed in a war he started when he decided not to hold to the oaths he had sworn before gods and men. I am the prince of Dorne, and on the honour of that title, I would force no lord or lady of Dorne to bow before any of Rhaegar's children other than those my sister has born."
"Then what do you suggest?" Ser Gerold asked. "We cannot refuse the abdications from Princess Elia or Queen Rhaella, not with the children in their hands and sure to be executed if we protest. Lyanna's child will likely be pulled as well by the North, they have no desire to involve themselves too greatly in southern politics. That leaves only Baratheon, and I would sooner die than swear an oath of loyalty to a traitor."
"Please Ser Gerold." Oberyn rolled his eyes. "You think Robert Baratheon would keep any of you in his kingsguard should he become king? Your heads will roll before the crown is upon his head."
"You will do nothing." Elia said, looking over the men. "You will sit by as I abdicate my children's claims, the same for Rhaella and Viserys and Lyanna and her son. You will watch as Robert Baratheon claim the throne by right of blood and conquest, you will clap and cheer as he is crowned, and then you will return to Dorne or the Reach, or wherever might suit your fancy."
"Princess, you cannot expect us to-" Ser Arthur interjected.
"And in return, Lord Terra has agreed to release my children and I back to Dorne, to live out our days in peace with the knowledge that we will be ignored unless or until my children stand against Robert and his descendants."
"You cannot believe he will hold to such a bargain." Her uncle said. "To allow such threats to the new dynasty. Robert Baratheon and his children will never rest on the throne so long as Rhaegar's children are free, especially in a realm like Dorne."
"Lord Terra is many things, efficient and pragmatic amongst them, but he has not yet lied to Rhaella or I when discussing terms. He will hold to his agreements, I believe that."
"Then we need only pretend to go along with this farce." Ser Gerold all but exclaimed, only keeping his voice low enough so as not to be heard by anyone outside the group.
"Once this mummer's show concludes and Aegon and Rhaenys are once again free, we may declare for them and call for the swords of all loyal men. Westeros will gather to your son."
"And within a fortnight he would be dead." Elia hissed furiously. "You have no idea what you are dealing with Ser Gerold. The spartans of the Plataea are like nothing else in this world. Do you know how they spirited us away from the Red Keep and to Westerlands so quickly?"
The men around her quieted as she spoke.
"They are more than simple men, Oberyn." She glances at her younger brother. "From as far as I can tell, they might not be gods, but they are the closest we will ever know until the time comes for us to join them in the heavens. They had some kind of flying carriage. It descended from the sky, plucked us all from the Red Keep's tallest tower, and brought us to the Plataea on Fair Isle before the sun rose for the new day."
"Impossible." Ser Gerold said dismissively. "Please princess I do not know what terms you might have reached with Lord Terra, but do not try and frighten us with tales for children. What next? They rode atop giant spiders and can touch the stars?"
"Scoff if you wish Ser Gerold." Elia's face was stoic as the grave. "But I do not lie. Lord Terra has expressed an interest in spreading the wealth and knowledge of his house to every corner of the Seven Kingdoms, and though the Westerlands will likely always be first in receiving these benefits, our cooperation with him and his people might just give us the strength we need to keep my children safe."
"Keep them safe?" Oberyn demanded. "Your children are in danger because of him. He sits there at the beck and call of Tywin Lannister, butchers and killers to do his bidding."
"And what would you have me do Oberyn? Proclaim Aegon the next king of the Seven Kingdoms? Poison Lord Robert once he becomes king? Maybe you'll kill his children to ensure they won't be a threat?"
"If that is what it takes." He said.
"Then you would be no different than the butchers and killers you so deride." She hissed. "I won't have the blood of children be the mortar of my son's reign, if it even goes that far. Lord Terra has agreed to spare my children so long as nothing happens to the new dynasty. A single drop of poison, one instance of suspicious action from Dorne, and it will not just be Aegon who pays, but Rhaenys too."
"He would threaten your children?" Oberyn seethed. "I'll have his head if he so much as touches a hair on their heads."
"And how will you do that Oberyn?" Elia asked. "Perhaps you will stop the men who managed to conquer the Red Keep and defeat the finest warriors in the realm in but a single night."
The kingsguard members shuffled at the slight and Ser Gerold narrowed his eyes at the princess, who only glared back.
"I won't have the blood of my children spilled for you, least of all if you simply wish to do so out of some misguided loyalty to a pair of men whose actions are the reason that all this misfortune has befallen us."
Elia Martell pushed past her brothers, uncle and the two other white cloaked members of the kingsguard, walking right back into the meeting hall and once again drawing looks. She did not stop, walking right past the seats meant for the princes and princesses of Dorne and taking her original seat next to Kurt.
"I hope your reunions were happy." Kurt offered her pleasantries.
"They were." She said curtly.
Angry though she might have been at the kingsguard, and to a lesser extent her brothers, she held no love for this man who had cost her and her children so much.
So the council begins and already shit's going down. I really wanted Oberyn to be the one to make a scene, and Kurt to defuse. Also, I think my last AN might have been a little misunderstood. I'm wasn't holding back chapters until we hit 1000 reviews, just kind of hoping we'd get there as a little personal thing. I won't actually hold the chapters back, though I did find it a bit funny that a reviewer spammed the review section to get us to 1000. Fun times man, but really unnecessary. Still hope you all enjoyed.