Pentos: 284 AC: 4 Days Later:
Jamie walked the magnificent streets of Pentos, having only arrived a day ago. When he arrived, he first saw the Targaryen ships with their three-headed dragon banner flying proudly high. He could hardly believe it, and after thanking Morosh for his hospitality, he almost leaped from the deck of the ship to begin his search. He now stood on a street corner, the hood of his cloak hiding his youthful features. He watched all the comings and goings of Pentoshi daily life, from the marching of Unsullied following lowly city officials to the troupes of Mummers heckling and making japes with one another.
Five hooded men caught his eye, however, as did their pale white skin, and scarred faces. He watched them walk by with their hands hidden in their heavy robes, almost as if they were hiding something. For a brief moment, Jamie thought this could be someone belonging to the Targaryens, or perhaps it was one of their soldiers, as they certainly did not look like they were from Pentos. A chill went down Jamie's spine, as the smallest of them looked towards him as they walked by, his deep black eyes hinting at something sinister underneath.
Jamie wasn't entirely sure what drove him to follow them. It could have been the unsettling feeling in his gut, or perhaps it was his Kingsguard instincts that nudged him onto their path. After trailing them for several minutes, three split away into an alley, the smallest among them included. Jamie persisted in tailing the remaining two, tuning into their conversation. The Westerosi accents of the men heightened his alarm. He caught snippets of their dialogue, words like 'targets' and 'knights' standing out, the latter seizing his focus even more. It was possible these men had information on Arthur Dayne's whereabouts.
Finally, they stopped on a streetcorner, that was outside one of the largest manse's Jamie had ever seen. Its gates were guarded by the Unsullied he had become accustomed to seeing, yet they were a little larger than usual. Joining the gates, were the nearly twelve-foot-high walls that were adorned with black spikes. Whoever lived here, certainly did not want unwanted guests. Jamie stood a mere few seconds away from the two burley men he had been following. He then noticed that hidden within their dark robes, were an assortment of knives and short swords, that were attached to the men by a leather belt wrapped around some chain mail.
Jamie instantly knew what these men were, as he had seen enough of them in his time as a Kingsguard. It led him to conclude that this was the place where the Targaryens were taking shelter. The excitement in his heart was cut short by the sinking feeling in his stomach. He knew what he had to do, yet he was not sure if killing these two men would draw unwarranted attention, and lead to his arrest.
Jamie decided that it did not matter anymore. If these men were truly what he thought they were, then he must act fast. He quickly walked to the two men who were patting themselves down, as if they were checking everything they had was in the correct place. He stopped in front of them, and drew his sword, to the surprise of both men who both looked at him in amused confusion.
"Something you want?" One of the men chuckled, slowly unsheathing a short sword.
"I want to know who it is in that manse, and why you intend to kill them," Jamie answered, lowering his hood to reveal his golden hair.
The man began to laugh. "You must be Jamie Lannister. Of course, the fucking Kingslayer is here." The man's smile suddenly turned to something much colder, as a murderous gaze descended across his scarred face.
"Answer me," Jamie demanded, looking at the second man who now held a pair of daggers in his hands.
"You'll get no answers from us pretty boy, now either fuck off back to your father or stay here and die." The dagger-wielding man spat, as he removed his robes to reveal his leather and chain mail armor.
"There will only be you dying today," Jamie concluded, pointing his sword in between them both.
Both men lunged at him at the same time. Jamie jumped backward as both men hit the air. The daggers came at him next, but Jamie caught them with his sword and punched the man holding them, dropping him to the floor with a sickening thud. Jamie did not know if he was unconscious, but he had no time to ponder as the next man came at him just as quickly. He was good. Better than most sellswords, Jamie thought. However, he was not good enough, as he swung at Jamie's head, missing, as Jamie plunged his sword deep into the man's stomach.
He dropped to the floor, the blood pooling out of his now open wound. Jamie ran his hand through his golden hair and put his boot on the man's back. "Who sent you?" Jamie asked, his sword touching the back of the assassin's head.
"Ro...Robert." The assassin replied, his breaths becoming shorter.
"Where have the other three gone?"
"Higher...Higher ground...Please, Ser Jamie." He groaned, turning on his side and clutching his stomach in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding.
The only answer Jamie gave was his sword in his throat. The gurgling of blood soon followed as he withdrew it. Jamie did the same with the other assassin who now lay dead on the ground. Gaining his answers, Jamie quickly rushed to the gates of the manse, which were now occupied by alerted Unsullied, who had just witnessed the visceral scene unfold in front of them. It didn't help that Jamie approached them with a sword covered in blood.
"I have to get inside," Jamie said, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"We know not who you are." One of the Unsullied answered, his grip on his spear tightening.
"I am Jamie Lannister and the Targaryens are in danger."
"Those men. Are they here to kill them?" The Unsullied asked, his eyes never leaving Jamie's own.
"They were. I killed them before they could do anything."
"Very well. Come with me, but try anything, and I will kill you." He assured as he opened the gate.
Jamie followed the Unsullied, who moved with haste. He scanned the rooftops for any more of the assassins, and to his surprise, he saw none. The Unsullied led him through the manse and into a great dining hall, where at the end of the enlarged table, sat a very large well-dressed man. Jamie noticed how the man looked at him with wide eyes as if he knew who he was. Jamie mused of the bloody sword he still carried.
"Master, this one is Jamie Lannister. He killed two assassins outside the gates." The Unsullied explained to the large man, who was now stood up.
"Jamie Lannister." He chuckled. "I was wondering when you would turn up on my doorstep. I am Illyrio Mopatis, Magister of this fine city." Illyrio explained, stroking his red-forked beard. "Now, what is this about assassins?"
"They're here to kill the Targaryens, I stopped them before they could do anything, but there are three more somewhere." Jamie sighed.
Illyrio drew a shocked expression across his face. "I see. Come then, we must get them to safety." Illyrio bellowed as he walked past Jamie.
Jamie followed him through the manse. As they walked, his eyes were constantly looking through every window they passed, as if he was expecting to see an assassin dive through them. Illyrio eventually led him to a lush and lavish garden, the size of it Jamie could hardly comprehend. He silently wagered it was bigger than any in the Red Keep, and in the center of it all stood two men sparring.
Jamie knew instantly who they were, and a strange sensation began to fill his stomach upon sighting them. To their side sat two silver-haired people, one a woman and one a boy. In the woman's arms, she held a small babe that couldn't have been more than a moon old. Jamie stood back as he saw Illyrio approach them, and for Jamie, it almost seemed as if time stood still for a moment. Jamie watched on as Illyrio held a conversation with both of the men, who in turn looked upon Jamie.
His heart froze as both men walked towards him, and his mouth went dry. "Jamie." The older man mumbled, sheathing his sword. Jamie noticed how the man next to him failed to do the same with Dawn.
"Ser Barristan, Ser Arthur." Those were all the words Jamie could manage.
"Why are you here?" Arthur asked, the disdain clear in his voice.
"I couldn't stay in Kings Landing, and I couldn't serve that King."
"You didn't serve Aerys either." Arthur accused, his eyes narrowing.
"I can explain my actions at another time, assassins are coming." Jamie pleaded, pointing to his bloodied sword. "Please..."
"You've already dealt with them?" Barristan asked, looking around the rooftops.
"There are three more. They've gone to higher ground."
"Get Rhaella and Viserys inside, as well as Illyrio. Have Willem and Richard guard them." Arthur ordered, looking to Barristan.
Barristan quickly ran to Rhaella and Viserys, explaining to them the situation they were now in. Jamie watched them make their way hurriedly inside, whilst Arthur still stood with him. He felt like a young boy again, as Arthur continued to stare him down, his blue eyes conveying a mixture of emotions. Jamie could not tell whether it was disgust or happiness at the sight of his fallen brother. Perhaps it was both.
"We will talk later, Jamie. For now, let us kill these rogues." Arthur assured, to which Jamie nodded in reply. Jamie followed Arthur through the manse, the two of them not saying a word to one another. The rest of the manse seemed to be on high alert as Targaryen household guards and Unsullied alike moved briskly around the corridors. Finally, Arthur led him to a large room, which contained all of the Targaryens and Illyrio.
"Is everybody here?" Arthur asked, as his eyes looked around the room.
"We are, Ser Arthur," Rhaella answered, her violet eyes immediately setting on the now awkwardly standing golden-haired knight next to Arthur.
"Good. Barristan, Richard, Willem, I want you to stay in here. Make sure the balcony door is shut, and close the windows." Arthur ordered, as he quickly turned away and left the doorway of the room. Jamie followed him out. Arthur quickly gathered some household guards and commanded some of them to stand guard outside the door and not let anyone aside from him enter. The rest he led back to the gardens. As the group of them stood there out in the open, Jamie began to question internally why they weren't in the room with the royal family.
"Who sent them, Jamie?" Arthur asked from behind him.
"Robert." Jamie bluntly replied.
"All of you, unsheathe your swords., Arthur ordered as all five men did as they were told. "I take it they will come for me then."
Before any more words could be spoken, arrows began to hit their marks on the men around Jamie and Arthur. Four men were dead in an instant, and one remained wounded on the ground with two arrows in his right leg. Arthur silently cursed, knowing that he had certainly led these men to their deaths. He had half expected an arrow to come for him but was surprised when it did not. He stood there, waiting and watching the buildings surrounding them, before suddenly, two men appeared before them.
Jamie identified the youngest among them as the same individual he had observed earlier while trailing them. His deep soulless eyes marked him as so. "Jamie Lannister and Arthur Dayne. There will be stories told of this, then we return with your heads." The young man boasted, and he withdrew two daggers from his belt. Arthur noticed how one of the daggers was vastly different from the other, and he could only identify the blade as Valyrian steel.
"We'll see, boy," Arthur replied through gritted teeth, pointing Dawn towards both men.
"We're gonna need that sword too." The boy retorted. "I might use it to kill your bitch Queen."
Overcome by anger, Arthur swung Dawn, with full force at the young assassin's head, but the assassin dodged the pale blade with ease. In the same motion, he flung his spare dagger into Jamie's leg, causing him to fall to the ground, cursing loudly. The assassin then aimed his Valyrian steel dagger at Arthur's abdomen, but Arthur retreated just in time to evade the attack. Arthur's gaze then fell upon Jamie, who was on the ground, struggling to remove the dagger from his leg. He stood in front of him, as the two assassins now bore down upon him. A heavy sigh came from Arthur, as he knew Jamie would be of no use to him before he turned his blue eyes back towards the men in front of him.
"Come then." Arthur offered, raising Dawn above his head.
The young boy held back, as the older man began his attack on Arthur. His short sword came close to Arthur's face as the beleaguered knight moved backward. Arthur quickly tripped the man, who then crashed to the ground. Arthur wasted no time in driving Dawn through the man's chest, killing him in moments. Arthur looked up at the boy who stood watching with a smug smile on his face.
"You're good, very good." The boy shrugged, as he sharpened his blades upon one another.
"Shut the fuck up." Arthur barked, removing Dawn from the chest of the assassin.
"I thought you were a knight! I didn't know knights would talk that way." He chuckled.
Arthur's eyes narrowed at the boy across from him. "How many name days have you seen?" He asked, pointing Dawn towards him.
"Sixteen I believe, though you tend to lose count."
"You'll not see another."
With those words, Arthur launched his attack at the boy, who instinctively moved out of the way of Dawn's sharp point. The assassin then attempted to get into Arthurs's guard but was shoved away violently by the knight. Landing on his back, he scrambled to his feet, still clutching the Valyrian steel dagger. He spat on the ground and his soulless eyes lingered on Arthur, who was looking at him with a murderous intent. He threw another dagger at Arthur, who instinctively blocked it with Dawn, and then rushed at him with his Valyrian steel dagger aimed at Arthurs's neck.
How Arthur had moved so fast, he had no idea. Before he knew it, Arthur had ducked under his reckless charge and had plunged his blade deep into the collarbone of him. The pain was unbearable, and how he still drew breath as he dropped to his knees, he knew not. He clutched at the blade that now seemed to be driving deeper and deeper into his insides, as blood now poured from his mouth.
"For the King," Arthur whispered, as he withdrew Dawn from the depths of the boy's body. He watched the boy collapse to the ground, blood pooling from the wound at the top of his shoulder, and he made sure to grab the Valyrian steel dagger that the boy once wielded. Arthur quickly rushed to Jamie's aid, who had been watching in awe the whole time. He offered the wounded lion a helping hand. "Come, Jamie, you said there were three of them, no?" Arthur asked, slinging Jamie's arm over his shoulder.
"There were. I would guess the remaining assassin has gone to kill Rhaella and the others." Jamie mused, wincing at the pain in his leg, as he hobbled along.
Arthur and Jamie moved as quickly as they could, back to the room where they left the Targaryen family. Arriving at the room, Arthur's heart sank as the two guards he had left outside lay dead at the doorway, their blood painted on the walls. The door itself was closed, and Arthur sat Jamie down next to the wall, as he prepared to enter the room.
Kicking the door open, he was greeted by the bemused looks of all the Targaryens and their knights. He imagined he looked quite the sight, as he was covered in blood from his previous encounter. As he looked in the room, he noticed a rugged-looking man on his knees with Willem and Richard pointing their blades at his throat. His hands were bound and he looked utterly defeated, and blood looked as though it was leaking from his bruised nose. Barristan turned to Arthur with a surprised look on his face.
"Ser Arthur, glad you could join us." Barristan chuckled, patting Arthur on his shoulder.
"Is he the last one?" Arthur asked, breathing a small sigh of relief.
"Unless you left the others alive, yes he is."
"Why is he still alive?"
"I wanted to ask him some questions."
"Very well."
Barristan smiled at Arthur, before turning to the rest of the room. "I think you should find somewhere else to rest, my Queen. I'm not sure you would want to be here for what we are about to do." Barristan advised.
"I think I'd like to stay. Ser Willem, Ser Richard. Could you take the children to another room, and escort Illyrio too." Rhaella replied, her violet eyes never leaving the defeated assassin.
"Ser Jamie is outside, Willem. He needs tending to." Arthur added.
"At once," Willem answered, as he and Richard gathered both Daenerys and Aemon in their arms, and led Viserys and Illyrio from the room.
The door was slammed shut after them, and the silence was deafening, except for the soft sniffles coming from the kneeling man as he attempted to stop the blood that was dribbling from his nose. Arthur could hear the chuckling of Illyrio outside, and the groaning of Jamie as he was presumably carried away to have his wounds tended to. He placed Dawn, against the wall and moved to sit beside Rhaella, who quickly took his hand in her own. Arthur gave her a reassuring smile, as he then turned his gaze towards the bound man before them all.
"Who sent you?" Barristan calmly asked, standing over the assassin with his sword drawn.
"The King." The assassin answered.
"Why did he send you?"
The assassin remained silent before Barristan kicked him heavily in the stomach. The man wheezed and began to cough breathlessly. "Why the fuck should I tell you? You're just going to kill me anyway." He spat.
"This is true. But you can tell me the truth and die quickly or I can kill you slowly and eke out your pain for hours, so I ask again. Why did he send you?"
"Ahhh fuck...He wants the Targaryens dead...as well as that cunt over there." The assassin growled, nodding at Arthur. Arthur grinned at the assassin, as he thought that if Robert wanted him dead so much, he should just come here and kill him himself. A King who fights his own battles, wouldn't that be a sight, he mused.
"Was anyone else involved?" Barristan inquired.
"That fucking old man he always goes around with wore a fucking pretty badge, Jon he was called."
Of course, Jon Arryn would be complicit in sending assassins, Barristan thought. "Anything else you wish to share?"
The assassin spat at Barristan's feet, demanding a swift end. The old knight complied without a moment's pause, severing the man's head from his shoulders with a single, clean stroke. Rhaella's hold on Arthur's hand grew firmer as she witnessed the head rolling across the floor. She had never favored bloodshed or violence, particularly after enduring Aerys's reign of terror. Yet, these men had menaced her children, ready to slay innocents for mere gold. Gazing at the now-twitching, lifeless body, she harbored no regret.
"Thank you, Ser Barristan," she sighed, rising and approaching the headless corpse to look down upon it. "I shall speak with Ser Jaime; I believe you would appreciate a word with him as well, Arthur," she said, moving toward the door. Arthur promptly followed, seizing Dawn as he exited the room. Along the way, they observed servants disposing of bodies and scrubbing blood from the walls. It dawned on Arthur that the last assassin had slain both guards and servants indiscriminately on his path to the Targaryens.
They quickly arrived at the small room where Jamie was being treated. His dark clothes had been removed and he now lay on a bed with only his underclothes on him. The dagger had pierced his flesh just above the right knee, and Arthur mused that he was lucky to not be hit in the knee itself. A servant was quickly pouring some kind of remedy on the wound before she began to wrap it in some white linen cloth. Rhaella moved to his bed and sat down on a chair beside him, her eyes looking over the wound on the disgraced knight's leg. Arthur quickly moved to stand at her side, as he sheathed Dawn on his back once more.
"Rhaella..." Jamie murmured, his emerald eyes showing signs of pain and regret.
It's okay, Jamie. I have not come to chastise you. I am simply wondering why you came to us." Rhaella reassuringly smiled, as she placed her soft hand on Jamie's own.
"I came to serve. My past choices haunt me, and I wanted to do the right thing for once."
"So you wish to redeem yourself? Is that it?"
"Yes, Rhaella. But you must understand, I killed Aerys with good reason...Arthur, I need you to hear this too."
"I won't shed any tears for Aerys, Jaime, but please, go ahead."
"When my father came that terrible day, Aerys had ordered me to bring him my father's head to prove my loyalty...I couldn't...He was my father, but I left to kill another man instead. Rossart, his pyromancer. He had planted caches of wildfire around the city and was meaning to destroy everything and everyone in it. I couldn't let that happen. So when I returned from killing his pyromancer, I killed Aerys. I cut his fucking throat so he could not give the command to some other pyromancer." Jamie explained, his eyes full of tears.
Arthur could see the honesty in the young man's eyes. This past year, he always thought Jaime a craven, who would rather kill his King than die at his side, as all great Kingsguard should. Arthur mused that he was now perhaps the greatest of them all, after saving the city from the madness of Aerys. Arthur thought he may have done the same, honor be damned.
"After all this time, Jaime? Why did you not tell anyone?" Arthur inquired.
"Eddard Stark was the first to see me sat upon the throne with Aerys dead at my feet. As soon as he laid eyes upon me, he judged me. The great honorable Ned Stark gave me no chance to explain myself. I thought you were all dead, at the time. Who could I speak to? Robert? Eddard? They judged me as a Kingslayer immediately. Ned Stark wanted me sent to the Wall, you know. If only they knew."
"Thank you, Jaime." Rhaella smiled. "You have done a great deed." Jaime felt his heart flutter at her words, and he seemed to think that he had regained a part of his honor. "I would like to pardon you, but I don't have any official power to do so anymore." She chuckled.
"It would mean the same to me, my Queen," Jaime responded, bowing his head as much as he could.
Rhaella gave Jaime a soft smile, before standing up and walking from his bed and out of the room. Arthur stayed there a moment more, looking at his former brother with saddened eyes.
"I am sorry, Jaime." He eventually spoke.
"You didn't know, Arthur, it's alright." Jaime sighed. "I'm sorry for not coming to you sooner."
Arthur rested his hand on Jaime's shoulder and offered a gentle smile before he left him to rest and recover. He walked through the manse to his private quarters. After setting Dawn on its assigned table and pulling the Valyrian steel dagger from his belt, he perched on the edge of his bed and heaved a deep sigh as he looked upon it with curious eyes. It was a beautiful thing. The steel itself was a dark swirling grey and the grip was surely to be made from dragon bone, as the dark glass inlays danced in the light. He could swear there was something else in the blade, as he saw that every time it caught the light in a certain way, strange symbols would appear before him.
Shaking his head, he decided that the events of the day were starting to take their toll on him. Lying down again, he closed his blue eyes, grateful that sleep quickly embraced him. His dreams were again visited by his King, and this time he was stood atop a giant wall of ice, looking out to the lands below them. Arthur could see for miles around, and he saw the mighty forests and seas that seemed to be never-ending. At the edge stood Aemon. He was clad in a thick black cloak, and his black curls blew gracefully in the forceful wind. Aemon turned to face the wary knight, who had moved to stand beside him.
"Ser Arthur." Aemon smiled.
"Your Grace, I had not expected to see you again," Arthur admitted, bowing his head towards his King.
"You have done my family a great deed, yet again. I've come to offer you my thanks."
"It was only my duty, Your Grace."
"Yet you still excelled." Aemon asserted, his voice commanding. He pointed towards the ever-expanding wilderness. "You see out there, Arthur?"
"I see only snow and trees, Your Grace."
"There is something more. There is something out there much colder than the snow, and much darker than the night. I know not what it is, only that we must fight it."
"When?"
"Not for some time. Many things must be done before we turn our gaze here."
"Such as?" Arthur questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"We have a crown to win."
With those final words, Arthur awoke, drenched in yet another cold sweat. He attempted to decipher the meaning of this third dream, rubbing his eyes in the process. It was unclear whether these dreams were mere illusions or harbingers of the future. He hoped for the latter, but the notion of a formidable enemy they were destined to confront worried the Sword of the Morning. Recalling Rhaella's mention of 'the Prince that was Promised', he pondered its connection to his recent dream. Uncertain, Arthur nonetheless fortified his determination to serve Aemon, and with Jaime at their side, they might further validate his claim.
Dorne: 284 AC: 1 Day Later:
Oberyn stepped off his ship, and onto Dornish soil once more. He breathed in the Dornish air and allowed it to fill his lungs. He often hated staying away from Dorne for long, ever since he had begun to grow his beloved family. The same family was now rushing along the docks towards him, as Obara and Nymeria seemed to race each other to reach their father first. Behind them was Ellaria, who held Tyene by the hand, as they walked towards Oberyn, who himself now wore a large smile on his face. He crouched down with his arms held out, as they crashed into him with their loving embraces.
"Father!" Both girls squealed, as Oberyn held them tightly to him.
"My girls! How I have missed you." Oberyn chuckled, kissing both of their cheeks.
The Viper stood up and walked to Ellaria. "My love, how I have missed you." He smiled, as he placed a deep kiss upon Ellaria's lips. "And you, you're growing bigger every day, Tyene." He chuckled, crouching down and kissing his daughter's cheek.
"I had not expected you back for another moon, Oberyn?" Ellaria questioned, as Oberyn stood up and ran a hand through his dark hair.
"My business was brief, thankfully." Oberyn smiled, as he began to walk down the dock with Ellaria. Behind them, Obara and Nymeria "I must speak with Doran, Ellaria."
"About Essos?" She asked, her hand resting on her enlarged belly as she walked with her lover.
"Of course." He sighed. "There are things at play that are greater than we could have imagined."
"What things, Oberyn?"
"I will have to tell you at another time, my love...Perhaps in the evening. I must see Doran." Oberyn softly smiled, as he walked off from Ellaria, who watched him with concerned eyes.
Oberyn briskly walked from the docks and into Sunspear itself. He walked towards the white-walled palace and made his way to where he suspected his brother would be in the middle of the day. After a short walk, Oberyn arrived at the door of his brother Solar and entered without knocking. Doran sat at his table, reading some insignificant note from some insignificant Lord who lived in some shithole far from here. Doran raised his eyes from the parchment, and to Oberyn's surprise, he did not look surprised to see him back from Essos so early.
"Oberyn," Doran said almost dismissively.
"Doran," Oberyn smirked, as he sat down and put his feet upon the table. "Are you not surprised to see me?"
"I did not think you would be too long. I trust everything went well?"
"They did but things are...complicated, to say the least."
"How? It was a marriage proposal, what could be more complicated than that?" Doran asked, his eyes narrowing.
"Oh, the marriage proposal has been accepted. Rhaella was more than happy to agree to our proposal to wed Viserys and Arianne."
"Good, well, what is complicated?" Doran sighed, as he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest.
"There are some unforeseen circumstances, brother...Rhaegar and Lyanna..."
Doran stood up out of his chair. "If you're going to tell me they had a child-"
"They did." Oberyn interrupted.
"That fucking scum. A child of rape, no doubt." Doran spat. "How could he disrespect our sister like that."
"It wasn't like that, Doran. He's a trueborn son. I've seen the marriage papers. They were signed by everyone. Rhaegar, Lyanna even High Septon Maynard. Even the annulment of Elia and Rhaegar's marriage. She signed it herself. She wanted to come home to us, brother." Oberyn explained to a distraught Doran.
"We cannot-"
"Do you want to avenge Elia or not?" Oberyn argued, standing from his chair.
"More than anything, Oberyn, but I will not support-"
"The boy is our best chance to see her avenged. To see Robert brought to his knees and Tywin's head on a spike."
Doran rubbed his temples in frustration. "Why can't things ever be simple? Fine, I'll take your word for it. If what you say is true then I will settle for our agreed arrangement with Rhaella. Arianne will marry Viserys."
"Thank you, Doran. I promise you, when the time comes, we will be swimming in the blood of the Mountain, but for now, we wait and plan."
"Do not thank me. I am doing this for Elia and her children, and if getting our vengeance means putting another Targaryen on the throne, so be it."
"It will be worth it in the end, brother. I promise." Oberyn assured.
"We will see, for now, word of this must stay between us. Not even Ellaria can know, nor your children."
"I understand, Doran. I will be as silent as the grave."
"Good, now leave me, I have some important things to discuss."
Oberyn complied with his brothers' request and left the solar where they had just had their discussion. As he walked through the corridors of the palace, his mind was one of elation and excitement. Finally, they had found a path to avenge Elia and her children, that wouldn't incur the death of their house and everyone in it. Of course, they could simply have the Mountain assassinated, the same with Tywin Lannister. However, Oberyn knew Doran wasn't stupid enough to do so as if he did, the next day they would have half of the Seven Kingdoms' armies at their doorstep.
No. They were smarter than that, and much more willing to play the long game if the end goal was all the same. All Oberyn had to worry about now was who was going to support them when the time came. Dorne cannot stand alone against the rest of the Realm. They would need allies, and Oberyn knew just who to turn to.
Kings Landing: 284 AC: 2 Days Later:
Jon Arryn sat alone in the tower of the hand, writing down some new minor laws that he knew Robert would not care about. Jon preferred it that way though, as the less Robert was involved, the more he could undertake without his knowledge. In the back of his mind, he held a quiet concern about the assassins they had sent to Essos. They should be on their way back by now at least, if not already in Kings Landing.
Jon let out a heavy sigh, as he thought they may have already absconded with the Valyrian steel dagger that Robert foolishly gave them. Though the dagger was worth a lot of gold, the price they were offering was too tempting to simply turn down, especially for all five of them. Surely one of them had done the deed, though he had a small doubt that any of them could truly stand up to Arthur Dayne.
It wasn't necessary for them to engage him in single combat; after all, they were assassins. If they were clever, they would have dispatched him in his sleep. Jon's reflections were interrupted by a knock at his door. He called for the visitor to enter and watched as a young servant, one of his spies loyal only to him, came in. As the Hand of the King, he knew the importance of having such men, particularly with the Targaryens lurking somewhere in Essos. The servant clutched a small piece of parchment in his slender hands.
"My Lord Hand, a note arrived for you this morning. From one of our Dornish agents." The young man hissed, as he placed the parchment on the table that Jon was sitting at.
"Dorne? What would I care for Dorne?" Jon sighed, as he grabbed the parchment and began to read.
As soon as he was done reading he dropped the paper on the desk and put his head in his hands. Of course, Oberyn was seen in Pentos. Jon already knew what he had been up to whilst he was there, and he began to ponder whether the Viper had anything to do with the disappearance of his assassins. Jon then quickly drank down the rest of his wine and looked up to the young man who still stood before him.
"Leave me." He demanded, and the young spy quickly left the room.
Jon stood up from his chair and made his way to the window that cast its orange light over the room. He looked down upon the city of Kings Landing and began to plan his next move. He could not allow for the Targaryens to gain support, especially from those as duplicitous as the Martell's. It would do him no good to be poisoned now, nor would it be good for Robert. He knew that if the rest of the Realm discovered the Martells moving to support Rhaella and her brood, they would begin to question the legitimacy of Robert's claim, especially now that Jaime Lannister had joined with them.
After a few moments, he decided on a course of action. Many would call it rash and perhaps even stupid, but he had to make a gesture of good faith to the Martells. Leaving the Tower of the Hand, Jon made his way to his servants and demanded they bring the bones of Lewyn Martell, and place them in a casket, to be transported. He then began to write a letter to the Prince of Dorne, forewarning him of his arrival to Sunspear. He wouldn't want to turn up unannounced, as he was now Hand of the King and deserved a proper welcome, even from those sly vipers. Once he finished writing, he gave the letter to Grand Maester Pycelle, who inquired what the letter entailed, but Jon knew better than to tell the old man. He watched as Pycelle tied the note to the raven's leg, and sent it on its way.
Finally, he made his way to Robert, who was lounging on the Iron Throne, half-drunk. When Jon arrived, the sight appalled him as he watched the Stag King slouch on the great metal chair. Robert instinctively sat up straight at the sight of his Hand approaching him.
"Ahh, Lord Hand, what can I do for you!" Robert bellowed, a half smile appearing on his face.
"I must tell you something, Your Grace." Jon began. "I must travel to Dorne."
"To Dorne? Why would you want to go to that desert?" The King questioned, his eyes narrowing.
"There is...talk of dissent around Sunspear. Your rule is not popular in the South, it would seem. Especially after what happened with Elia Martell."
"Ah, killing her was unnecessary. Tywin was a fool for doing so." Robert sighed. "So, what? You wish to go there and make peace with them?"
"I do, Your Grace. I have ordered for the bones of Ser Lewyn Martell to be transported with me when I make the journey."
"Another traitor he was. We should have had them all killed when I won at the Trident, same with those Tyrells."
Jon was thankful that the throne room was empty as Robert said those words, aside from the few guards that stood at the end of the room. "Robert," Jon whispered, as he claimed the steps of the raised dais that the throne sat on. "Please, be mindful of what you say."
"They are all traitors, Jon. Supporting that fucking Dragon even after what he did to my Lyanna." Robert spat.
"They are, but we must be smarter about this. The Realm is still healing from the previous war, so let me deal with the Martells and bring an end to their grumblings peacefully."
"Very well, Jon, you know best. Make sure you take lots of guards with you. You never know what those snakes are up to, and I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you when you get to Dorne."
"Thank you, Your Grace," Jon said, as he bowed slightly before he left the presence of Robert.
Varys watched on as Jon left the throne room. Ever since he had learned the secret passages of the Red Keep, learning its inhabitant's secrets had become as easy as writing his name. After listening to the conversation that Jon Arryn thought was private, he made his way back through the tunnels and back to his quarters. Once he arrived, poured himself some wine and began to drink and think about the future. He knew that Jamie Lannister had already made his way to the Targaryens, as well as Oberyns meeting with them. Finally, all his plans were beginning to take shape. All he needed to do now was to find more support for the young King. Perhaps, a visit to the Reach? Maybe he could rouse the houses of the Narrow Sea back to their old allegiances. Only time would tell, and he had plenty of it.
A/N: Thanks for reading. My longest chapter yet, but I hope to make them all this long and I had a lot of fun writing this one anyway. I also realized halfway through this that I've been spelling Jaime wrong this whole time lmao. I fixed most of the names, but there may be one or two lingering. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed reading it.