The fading sun cast a golden hue over Sunspear, as the day slowly bled into night. The air was thick and oppressive, heavy with the heat of Dorne's relentless sun. The white-and-gold walls of the Martell palace gleamed under the dying light, giving the capital an otherworldly, almost dreamlike atmosphere. But despite the beauty of the surroundings, a weight bore down on Arthur Dayne's heart.
Since arriving at Sunspear with Aegon under his protection, Arthur had been unable to shake the tension coiling in his chest, like a knot impossible to untangle. He had seen countless battles, faced dangers beyond measure, but none of that had prepared him for this new duty—to protect the last hope of a dying dynasty, while navigating the treacherous waters of Dorne's political landscape.
It had been five days since Arthur had placed Aegon's fate in the hands of Doran Martell, and he knew that the prince's patience was both a blessing and a curse. Doran was known for his careful planning, his calm demeanor, but his brother Oberyn, the Red Viper, was the opposite—a man of passion, of fire, and vengeance. One brother embodied diplomacy and patience, while the other was driven by impulse and justice. This delicate balance, this constant tension between the two, made Arthur uneasy. For if Oberyn were to discover Aegon's presence without proper preparation, things could quickly spiral out of control.
Arthur stood now in one of the shaded gardens of the palace, near the chambers where Aegon slept peacefully, guarded discreetly by a few loyal servants. The scent of exotic flowers filled the air, but Arthur paid little attention to it. His mind was consumed by what was coming, by the looming confrontation with the two brothers.
A Targaryen in Dorne... The implications were vast, and the dangers even greater. Rhaegar Targaryen had once been a prince beloved and respected, but he had also betrayed Elia Martell, the sister of Doran and Oberyn, by abandoning her for Lyanna Stark. That betrayal had shattered alliances and sparked the war that destroyed House Targaryen.
Arthur could still feel the weight of his choices at the Tower of Joy, the place where everything had changed. Protecting Aegon had been his sworn duty, but that duty now required him to navigate the bitter remnants of old alliances and deep wounds. How would Doran and Oberyn react? Would they see Aegon as a means to avenge their sister, or would they reject him because of the sins of his father?
The soft sound of a door opening behind him pulled Arthur from his thoughts. His warrior instincts kicked in immediately. He turned slightly and saw a figure moving toward him. The footsteps were light, graceful, but carried an undeniable energy. Oberyn Martell.
The Red Viper moved with a serpentine grace, his loose garments floating around him as he approached Arthur. A thin smile played on his lips, but his dark eyes burned with a cold, calculating intensity. Oberyn was a man of dangerous beauty, with a gaze that seemed to pierce through the facades of those he encountered. He wasn't here for pleasantries, and Arthur knew it.
"Ser Arthur Dayne," he said, his voice smooth, but laced with menace. "It seems my brother keeps... interesting secrets."
Arthur stood still, his gaze locked with Oberyn's. The Red Viper was never an easy man to read, but tonight, there was something darker about him, something more unsettling. He knew.
"Your Grace," Arthur replied, inclining his head with respect. "It was not my choice to keep you in the dark. It was a decision Prince Doran deemed necessary to protect the child."
Oberyn's smile widened, though it only served to accentuate the predatory gleam in his eyes. "The child, you say... I've heard whispers, murmurs in the halls. Some say a Targaryen heir sleeps beneath this roof. Is it true? Is this child the last son of Rhaegar?"
Arthur held his silence for a moment, carefully measuring his words. He could not deny the truth, but every word had to be precise. "Yes, Your Grace. It is true. He is Aegon Targaryen, son of Rhaegar."
Oberyn's expression shifted, and for a brief moment, he looked away, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. A tense silence hung between them, broken only by the whisper of the warm wind. The Red Viper was not a man easily understood, and Arthur could almost see the wheels turning in his mind.
When Oberyn finally spoke again, his voice was low, almost a murmur. "Rhaegar... The prince of grand promises, the one who was to unite our houses, only to abandon my sister for another."
Arthur felt the tension rise. He knew that Rhaegar's betrayal was still a festering wound for the Martells, a wound that Aegon might reopen. He needed to tread carefully.
"Your Grace, I understand your resentment," Arthur said cautiously. "But the child is not responsible for his father's sins. He is innocent in this, and he could represent a new opportunity for Dorne—a chance to right the wrongs of the past."
Oberyn turned his gaze back to Arthur, his dark eyes flashing with a brief flicker of anger. "An opportunity, you say? A tool for politics? Is that how you see this child, Arthur? A piece to be moved across a chessboard?"
Arthur's heart tightened. He had never wanted to think of Aegon in such terms, but he understood that, for Oberyn, politics and vengeance were inextricably linked. He took a deep breath before answering. "No, Your Grace. I see a child in need of protection. But I also know that this world is cruel, and it will not grant him peace for long. If we want Aegon to survive, we must be smart, and we must find allies who will stand with him."
Oberyn regarded him for a long moment, then laughed, but it was a bitter, joyless sound. "Allies... You sound like my brother. Always looking for the next alliance, the next move to make. But do you truly believe that Dorne will be willing to support a Targaryen after all we've lost?"
Arthur didn't answer immediately. He understood now that this conversation was not just about Aegon, but about the complicated and painful history between the Martells and the Targaryens. Rhaegar's betrayal had not only broken political alliances, it had destroyed families and left deep scars.
"I am not asking Dorne to support a name," Arthur said at last. "But a child, an innocent who could one day offer Dorne a greater place in the realm. Aegon is not Rhaegar. He represents a new generation, a new chance."
Oberyn remained silent for a moment longer, then nodded slowly, though there was still a burning anger behind his eyes. "Perhaps you're right, Ser Arthur. But don't think for a moment that I will forgive his father's mistakes so easily. Aegon may be an opportunity, but he is also a painful reminder."
Arthur bowed his head slightly, accepting this fragile compromise. Oberyn's anger would never fully fade, but at least he seemed willing to view Aegon as a potential asset for Dorne. That was more than Arthur had hoped for.
"Prince Doran wishes to speak with you," Arthur added, subtly shifting the topic. "He believes it is time you were informed of our plans for the future."
Oberyn straightened, a sly smile curling at the edges of his lips. "Of course he does. My brother never makes a move without weighing every word. Very well, let's discuss the future. But Arthur, remember this: the time of the Targaryens is long past. If we are to support them, it will be on our terms, not theirs."
He turned on his heel, leaving the garden with the same feline grace he had arrived with. Arthur remained standing for a moment longer, his thoughts swirling. Aegon was safe for now, but this was only a temporary reprieve. The real battle would be political, and it was only just beginning.