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Arianne could hardly contain her glee upon seeing the massive ship floating high above the walls of Sunspear. The sheer presence of the flying ship was cathartic. Looking around, she noticed she was not the only one feeling the euphoria of seeing something impossible unravel before her eyes.

The Targaryens of old had the same effect with their mastery of their dragons. As riders of such magnificent beasts, they inspired awe, power, and fear among all who laid their eyes on those flying creatures. But Dorne proved that Targaryen dragons were not invincible, and Aegon and his wives could be successfully repelled. Anything that breathed could be made to bleed, and anything that bled could die. Therefore, dragons were not invulnerable. It was just difficult to kill them.

Looking upon the mighty warship that floated above their heads, Arianne wondered whether a lucky bolt could bring down this wooden beast like Meraxes. Her people had felled dragons and ships in the past. So, she supposed this wooden beast, while formidable, was still as vulnerable as Targaryen dragons of the past.

At the same time, she had never heard about a single dragon destroying a whole city. The flying ship had done the impossible, bringing Myr to its knees in a single night. If the tales from Essos were to be trusted, Harrion Stark brought death and fire upon Myr for sending assassins against him and his brothers. Some tales claim he breathed fire upon the city like a vengeful god. More outlandish claims spoke of a fire that fell upon the city like rain and burned it all away in a single night.

Arianne believed her prospective betrothed used his magic to burn the whole city down. After all, she was regaled by her uncle with tales of Harrion's exploits in the Westerlands. In Dorne, the tale of Lannisport’s fall was sung by many bards, and they always heaped praises on the Northern lord who smashed the city walls by summoning lightning to do his bidding. She only believed such tales because her uncle confirmed them.

She sprung back into her chambers as she watched the ship lower to the ground outside Sunspear’s walls. Thankfully, her friend and childhood companion Sylva Santagar was staying in her chamber with Tyene.

“He’s here!” Arianne exclaimed excitedly as she ran straight for her wardrobe, searching for a fitting dress to catch the eye of her intended.

“Who? The Young Griff?” Sylva asked hopefully.

“No, Sylva. The Starks have arrived.”

Arianne rolled her eyes at her friend’s obsession with her uncle’s squire. Ever since Sylva came from Spottswood and met the Young Griff, she had been smitten by the Tyroshi boy. Staring dreamily at the Young Griff in the training yard like some lovesick Reach girl was now a hobby for her friend. Of course, her friend had tried many tricks to garner the attention of her uncle’s squire with no luck.

‘I’ll not fail like Sylva.’ Arianne thought as she put some scented oils on her body.

Arianne glared at her cousin and friend.

“Are you two going to help me, or are you just going to stay there gaping like idiots?” she asked, annoyed.   

Her two companions sprung into action and helped her look presentable to receive the Starks.

“Do you think they came to discuss the betrothal?” Tyene asked.

“It’s possible.” Arianne mumbled with a thoughtful frown.

Arianne wondered that herself, but her father had remained tightlipped about the whole affair if there was any development. She desperately needed this to work, if only to retain her position as the heiress to Sunspear. The North was too far away from Dorne to give her the backing of a large army should her father go ahead and declare Quentyn as heir. But Harrion Stark had proven that he did not need armies or fleets to destroy his enemies. Such power could undoubtedly secure her position.

At the same time, she was aware the Starks also likely needed something if they agreed to the betrothal. What they needed was interesting because if she knew what it was beforehand, she could easily promise it herself to secure Harrion Stark as her husband.

‘That’s where Nymeria comes in. Between the two of us, we should be able to dig deep into Harrion Stark's mind and desires,’ Arianne thought.

“Where is Nymeria?” Arianne suddenly asked as Tyene and Sylva helped comb her hair.

“She is probably outside the walls of Sunspear. I remember Nym saying something about finding a Summer Island merchant for some black henbane.” Sylva shrugged.

“I guess she’ll rush back to the castle with that flying ship’s arrival.” Arianne muttered thoughtfully.

“There is a flying ship?” Sylva squealed in excitement while Tyene let out a gasp.

Arianne could only roll her eyes at her friend and cousin. It was just like them to be utterly ignorant of what was happening right under their noses.

“You two were singing songs behind closed doors so you couldn’t hear the commotion created by the ship’s arrival.” said Arianne.

Immediately, Tyene and Sylva started hounding her to see the infamous flying ship of House Stark. Arianne rolled her eyes and shored up her mind as her lady companions pestered her nonstop.

Thankfully, she dressed accordingly to receive their Northern guests in time. By the time she joined her father’s side, she was dressed in the colours of her House. Her dress was a glittering yellow and orange, representing the orange sun and golden spear of House Martell’s sigil. Her hair was down but neatly combed, and it went down her right shoulder. Gold bracelets gifted by her mother adorned her arms, while gold barrets and a circlet decorated her hair and head.

“You look beautiful as ever daughter.” Doran complimented her.

“Thank you, father.” Arianne said, her eyes falling on her father, sitting in his wheeled chair.

Areo Hotah stood guard beside them with a small number of guards.  

A bad case of gout had ridden her father’s ability to walk, but he was a master manipulator with plans within plans. That was why she was wary of her father’s current plans. She had been told of her father’s initial plan to have her married off to Viserys Targaryen. At least, that was the excuse her father gave her for rejecting all betrothal offers that came for her hand. She didn’t know whether to believe that was the truth. She had seen his letter to Quentyn and knew that he planned to have her brother succeed as heir instead of her.

But now, her father was interested in having Harrion Stark as her husband. His plans to build an alliance with the exiled Targaryens were dismissed unceremoniously. She was not told the exact reasons, but then again, she didn’t care for her father’s reasons.

Perhaps he thought tying their house to those mad dragons was idiotic. Or maybe her father had grown a spine and thought to break ties with their dragon oppressors. If her people were disliked in the rest of the seven kingdoms, then the Targaryens were hated with equal passion in Dorne. After all, the last of the Valyrian dragonlords had burned their people in their many attempts at conquest.   

Besides, any cause of revenge against the Lannisters was already fulfilled, all thanks to Harrion Stark. It was Harrion’s hammer that caused the war between Lions and Stags. It was his aid that allowed the Dornish army to sack Lannisport. It was his attack that opened the doors of Casterly Rock. It was his words that led her uncle to have the honour of taking Tywin Lannister’s head. The war had also claimed the lives of Amory Lorch and Gregor Clegane. The Lannisters lost their precious city to House Florent, and their precious gold was taken away upon their defeat. The seats of Castamare and Tarbeck Hall were taken away from Lannister control, confining them to their sole sea of Casterly Rock. They even lost their precious valyrian steel sword Lord Lannister had bought with an exorbitant amount of gold.

Her father would be lucky to have such a goodson who brought ruin upon House Lannister.

Lately, she had heard murmurs of concern between her father and uncle when word reached Sunspear about what happened with Myr.

Arianne only became determined to gain Harrion Stark as her husband. She now had conclusive proof that the Lord of Avalon had enough strength to support her position as the Princess of Dorne should the worst happen. With Harrion’s support, even the Dornish lords inclined to support her brother would switch sides.

‘Perhaps my own children could inherit such mighty powers to change the deserts of Dorne into sprawling farmlands that put the Reach to shame.’ Arianne thought.

Her musing was cut short as their guests arrived at the Tower of Sun escorted by Prince Oberyn and her cousin Nymeria. Her eyes lit up with interest as she saw Harrion Stark walking towards her and her father with his two brothers.

“Welcome, Lord Harrion, Lord Robb and Lord Jon.” Doran said, dipping his head.

“Prince Doran.” Harrion and his brothers nodded.

Arianne noticed Harrion had grown enough to be a few inches taller than her.

“I gather your journey was comfortable.” Doran said.

“It was quite enjoyable.” said Harrion with a roguish smirk.

“Of course. Being so close to the heavens must be quite exquisite.” Arianne said, grinning at the Starks.

“There is that as well.”

“I hope you haven’t forgotten the promise you made the last time we met Harrion. You promised me a ride in your airship.” Arianne smiled sultrily at Harrion.

“I haven’t forgotten princess.”

“I look forward to it then. But first, let us offer you guest rights.” said Arianne, taking a tray from a servant and offering bread and salt to their guests.

Arianne allowed their Stark guests to rest and refresh themselves. The servants prepared baths, placed the best of Dornish Red in their chambers and anything else they needed. Instead of bothering the Starks, she went straight for her cousin.

“Did he say anything?” Arianne asked immediately after dragging Nymeria to a secluded chamber.

“Say what?” Nymeria acted as if she knew nothing.

“About me, Nym. About the betrothal.” Arianne hissed.

“Harrion and his brothers just arrived at our home. Why do you expect them to talk about this matter the moment they step in Sunspear?”

Arianne let out a frustrated growl as she paced back and forth in the room. Unfortunately, Nym made sense, but that didn’t mean she liked it one bit.

“The offer has been sent for nearly a year. The Lord of Winterfell has yet to respond with a rejection or approval.” Arianne growled.

“Then that means you still have a chance. All we have to do is convince Harrion.” Nymeria pointed out.

‘I suppose I do.’ Arianne thought as she spun plan upon plan in her mind.

 

****

 

Harry stared out of the sprawling chamber he was afforded in the Tower of the Sun. Through the window, he could see a dormond-shaped keep of Sunspear, which was supposedly the old palace of House Martell before the arrival of the Rhoynar. He counted six towers, all made with the classic Rhoynish architectural style. The domed tops of the towers gleamed under the hot Dornish sun. The desert lay to the west, and the sea lay to the east. This was the first time Harry had seen a desert in this world, and he disliked it.

The air was dry and hot, forcing Harry to constantly urge himself to stay in a tub of water and never leave it. He was also sweating, and water was leaving his body like a melting glacier. The weather became unbearable, forcing Harry to use some cooling charms to stave off the heat from the desert. Luckily, he also had access to ice, so he drank lots of iced wine and water to stave off his need to get the hell out of Dorne.

Having felt a small piece of what life was like in Dorne, he was rethinking his plans for this place. Dorne's strategic position attracted him to it. It controlled all trade routes to the Reach and the Westerlands through the sea, and those who commanded the Summer Sea controlled the trade in the Reach and the Westerlands. Having a friendly state in Dorne was vital to the expansion of Avalon’s trade reach, especially if he wanted more access to Lys, Volantis and, most importantly, the Summer Isles.

Dorne was also a polity of some importance, and as he could see, there was a chance that the Principality could rebel and break off from the Iron Throne’s authority. It was a lukewarm hope as the presence of Aegon Targaryen complicated such matters. But war often culled kings on the battlefield, and he had no reason to doubt the same wouldn’t happen to Aegon.

He still had his doubts about whether this Aegon Targaryen was authentic—not that it mattered in the least. Fake or the real deal, Aegon Targaryen would not rule the North. But securing a friendly Dorne was necessary to wipe out the dominion of the Redwyne and Hightower fleets from the Summer Sea. The dominance of Oldtown and Arbour threatened his interests in the region. He had briefly considered securing the Reach, but that place was the centre of all southern politics and the Faith of the Seven.

The advantages of gaining the allies in the Reach were overshadowed by the disadvantages it posed in the long run. Besides, the lessons of the history of that region ensured he never took them lightly. The Targaryen dynasty became a shadow of itself when the Hightowers married into the family of dragonlords. The Hightowers also had a monopoly on knowledge and religion through the Citadel and the Starry Sept. They were his obvious contenders, not his allies.

Dorne, despite its unattractive geography, offered him a better alternative. He coveted the strategic locations of their ports. And most importantly, Princess Arianne offered him control of Dorne. If he married her, he would become the consort of the Princess of Dorne. With his vast fleet and Dorne’s unique position in the sea trade routes, a massive naval empire could be born. He had already knocked down the Ironborn and the Lannisters as a first step in his plan to dominate the seas. The second blow ought to crush the Ironborn for good, and then he could focus on the Arbour and Oldtown.

Even now, Princess Arianne or Nymeria remained ignorant about the true plans of Prince Doran and Oberyn. That was why he was taking a bland approach with the Dornish princess. He showed enough interest in them to keep Prince Doran interested but not too much to make them suspicious. For once, his father’s inability to say a blanket no to anyone sending a request worked wonders for his plans regarding Dorne.

Harry’s musings were cut short when he heard a knock on the door. He unlocked the door magically and had it swing open. He was hardly surprised to see Nymeria waiting outside. She was dressed in a loose cream dress that barely covered most of her body.

“Enjoying the view, are we?” Nymeria asked as she stepped into his chamber.

“It’s interesting to see Rhoynish architecture. I have visited Ghoyan Drohe and seen little that was left of the Rhoynar. This is much better.” said Harry, nodding at the beautifully constructed domes.

“Did you cross the Rhoyne and visit the other ancient cities of the Rhoynar?” Nymeria asked as she stood close to him, observing the magnificent towers of Sunspear.

“No. Ghoyan Drohe was the only Rhoynar city we visited.”

“In that case, it’ll be my pleasure to show you all my people have to offer, Lord Stark,” Nymeria said coyly, batting her eyelashes at him with a playful grin.

“Lead the way, oh noble Sand Snake.” Harry returned the grin and offered his arm.

They walked out of his chamber hand in hand.

“We should collect my siblings along the way.” said Harry once they were out of the chamber.

“Tyene has already escorted them out of their chambers.” said Nymeria.

“Tyene? She is your younger sister, isn’t she? The one with the blond hair?” Harry inquired as they leisurely walked down the spiralling staircase to the bottom of the Tower of the Sun.

“Hmm, yes. Why? Interested in Tyene?” Nymeria teased.

“How could anyone else interest me when a fine cultured lady such as yourself is by my side?” Harry smirked roguishly, “I was asking for the sake of my brothers. The reputation of the Sand Snakes is well known in the Seven Kingdoms.”

“Tyene is a sweet girl. She’s a septa, you know.”

“All the more reason to worry for my brothers. You see, they don’t follow the Seven.”

“Then you’re in luck. Tyene will cleanse your brothers of their sins and lead them on the righteous path.” Nymeria declared with a flourish.

“And where would this righteous path take my brothers?” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

“If they’re lucky, they might end up in my sister’s bed.”

“If they’re unlucky?” Harry asked, dismissing the blatant admission that the Sand Snakes were out to seduce his brothers.

“If they’re unlucky…” Nymeria trailed off as she paused upon seeing the sight in the training yard, "…they’ll end up in the training yard playing at being knights.”

Harry also came upon the sight that gave Nymeria pause. He watched stoically as Jon and Robb were in the training yard, swords in their hands, facing off against a Dornish knight and Aegon Targaryen.

“Blue hair.” Harry mentioned inconspicuously. “Is he a Tyroshi?”

“Ah, yes. I don’t know his name. He goes by the name of the Young Griff. He is the son of a sellsword friend of my father. He squires for my father now.”

“A student of the Red Viper? That’d make us brothers by the sword.” Harry commented idly.

“You, too, want to spend time in the training yard poking at each other with your swords? Or do you want to spend the day with a beautiful woman Stark?”

“There is a beautiful woman here! Where is she?” Harry made a show of looking around.

“You’ve become better at warring with words, oh great lord of Avalon, the mighty Wall Breaker.”

“Wall breaker?” Harry amusedly asked.

“That’s what our people call you. After all, you brought down the walls of Lannisport by summoning the might of the sky.”

“Huh. It’s good to know that my deeds are appreciated in Dorne.”

“They are appreciated and celebrated, my lord.” another voice suddenly joined their conversation.

Harry eyed the newcomer stoically. It was none other than Princess Arianne, and she looked more beautiful than she had been an hour earlier.

“Dorne could not forget the hand which dealt a blow to the lions of the west and sated Dorne’s cry for vengeance. You have my heartfelt thanks.” Arianne came close to Harry and pressed a chaste kiss on his left cheek.

Her lips lingered on his skin far longer than what was socially acceptable before she withdrew. He smelled a pleasing sandalwood scent on her body. It was a Norvoshi-scented oil he had also bought from Braavos. But smelling that on a voluptuous woman like Arianne was breathtaking and aesthetic.

“So, do you want to spend time in that dusty yard, or do you want to spend time with us?” Nymeria asked with a raised brow, looking keenly at his face.

“A tour of Sunspear by an infamous Sand Snake and the Princess of Dorne. How could anyone refuse such an offer? Please… lead the way, ladies.”

Even as he said that while happily walking together with Nymeria and Princess Arianne on either side, his eyes fell on Aegon and Jon. His mind was internally conflicted about whether he should tell Jon about his brother. His eyes lingered on the two youngsters' blue and black-haired heads until he turned a corner, and they disappeared from his view.

But his dilemma lingered.

‘Should I tell the truth to Jon?’

 

 

Comments

Shadowfield

I feel that maybe Harry can turn a little part of the desert into an oasis of some sort but that depends if he even wants to. Look forward to reading more

Darkanlan

He really should make sure Aegon is who he says he is before getting Jon's hope up with family. Would be better off with him and Daenerys being friends over Aegon or Viserys. With their need to kill anyone in their path for power, at least with Daenerys he'd end up screwing her rather than having to kill her. He'd get the family he wants and carry on the Targaryen tradition of keeping it in the family.