Dragonlord Ch117: Sunspear P3 (Patreon)

Harry watched Jon dancing around the yard with a blunted sword, easily outpacing his opponent in speed and technique. But he had to admit the Young Griff was no slouch either. The boy was lithe and well-trained but held on to a rigid form that emphasised defence more than speed or manoeuvrability.

“Your brother has certainly inherited your father’s skill with a blade. After all, Lord Eddard slayed the Sword of the Morning in single combat.” Prince Doran commented, observing the swordfight in the yard with great interest.

“Father always said Arthur Dayne was the most formidable opponent he ever faced in single combat.” Robb said politely.

“He was a great knight – Arthur Dayne.” Prince Doran said calmly.

“A great knight who imprisoned a helpless girl in a tower in the middle of a desert while a madman raped her.” Harry snorted, “We have very different definitions for what constitutes greatness.” 

He could see Robb shooting him a look that screamed, ‘Be polite’.

“I see.” Doran said calmly while eyeing him with interest. “My brother told me the people of the North are not keen on southern fables. It seems my brother was not wrong in that assessment.”

“Fables are made by bards who have never witnessed anything with their own eyes. They like to romanticise the truth to make it appealing to their audience. So, the Kingsguard of the Mad King remains dutiful knights instead of known as accomplices to the abduction, rape and murder of a young girl. Prince Rhaegar remains a melancholic warrior who fought for his waning dynasty instead of being known as a rapist or as a man who started a disastrous war that robbed the lives of his wife and children.” Harry said bluntly.

There was a tangible, uncomfortable silence, and Harry could see the sellsword Griff grimace with gritted teeth upon retelling the supposedly eminent characters of the Targaryen loyalists. Despite that, the blue-haired Griff remained seated beside Prince Oberyn without uttering a word.

“As blunt as ever, Harrion. I like that in the Northerners.” Prince Oberyn guffawed.

“The North also misses your colourful personality, Oberyn.” Harry said, smiling at the younger Martell brother.

“I’m sure you enjoyed some of those colourful personalities quite intimately.” Oberyn winked at him.

Harry could hear a smatter of girlish giggling from behind him. He was acutely aware of the Sand Snakes standing behind him while Princess Arianne sat between her father and uncle. Robb also looked at him with a pointed look. But his twin hardly had any moral high ground, considering Robb had lost his virginity to a Pentoshi courtesan and went on to invite a Tyroshi courtesan into his bed as well.

Harry was amused at himself for comparing Arianne and Nymeria with Pentoshi and Tyroshi courtesans. The consequences of such a scandal were far more far-reaching than Robb’s or his own actions in Essos.

He did not intend to turn his dalliances with Arianne and Nymeria into a scandal. He doubted House Martell would go to such an extent either. Despite the reputation of the Dornishmen, he doubted the Martells would want to disparage the reputation of their daughters.

“What do you think of my new student, Harrion?” Oberyn asked, nodding at the blue-haired boy battling Jon.

“Honestly, I’m surprised he is your student.” Harry commented airily.

“Oh. Why is that?” Oberyn raised an eyebrow.

“The lad is stiff and rigid in his form. It is as if he was trained by someone only familiar with training in plated armour. I’d wager a guess it was a stiff knight with no appreciation for using the body in flow with the sword.” Harry answered honestly.

“Ha! You’re not wrong. I only started training the Young Griff recently. It’s difficult to break habits gained from childhood that easily.” Oberyn said.

“The Young Griff? Whoever named this poor lad is an idiot.” Harry said with a scoff.

“I couldn’t agree more. It is a stupid name.” Oberyn grinned widely, enjoying the way Jon Connington was squirming in his seat.

Suddenly, applause broke out as Jon disarmed the Young Griff.

“Young Jon’s skill with a blade is prodigious. No doubt, he is a credit to your family.” Prince Doran complimented.

“Thank you, Prince Doran. We are very proud of our brother.” Robb, ever the diplomat, graciously accepted the praise.

“How about you give some advice to my squire, Harrion? After all, you were my student once. Your knowledge of the sword and my own techniques might prove to be a valuable lesson to the Young Griff.” Oberyn suggested.

“Is that necessary, uncle? I’m sure Harrion has more important things to do than impart lessons to a Tyroshi boy.” Arianne piqued up.

The way her eyes lingered on Harry made it clear to everyone what these ‘important things’ she was talking about. After all, it was no secret that she had been handsy with Harry since they returned from the Water Gardens.

‘Insatiable minx.’ Harry thought as he kept a poker face while Arianne smiled sultrily at him without a care in the world.

He could also see Prince Doran’s calm mask drop slightly. Before anything could happen, he decided to intervene.

“I don’t think it is much of a hassle,” Harry said as he stood up from his seat. “After all, this Young Griff is a fellow student. It’d be remiss of me not to familiarise myself with another student of the Red Viper.”

It took him a few minutes to choose a balanced, blunted sword before he entered the training yard.

“Young Griff, you ready for another bout?” he inquired as he stepped past Jon and faced the blue-haired boy.

“It’d be my honour, Lord Stark.” the blue-haired boy said, looking a tad excited despite breathing heavily from the recent practice session with Jon.

“You can call me Harrion.”

With that, Harry swung the sword and started a spectacle of steel in the training yard.

****

Harry splashed himself with more water in the bathtub, rubbing away the sweat and dirt from his body. This was one of the other reasons he disliked getting into a swordfight. He disliked getting all sweaty and dirty like a pig. It was good to keep his physique top-notch but hardly useful in actual combat. When he could bring swift victory by thinking faster than his opponent, the charm of swords tended to diminish.

But still, these bouts helped create spectacles and for getting to know one’s opponent more intimately.

Harry learned more about the Young Griff from a small training session than merely observing from a distance. He learned the boy was patient and methodical while training in the yard, which means the Young Griff had a mind for strategy. The blue-haired boy was also easy to talk with, highlighting his willingness to listen. The boy was also humble and knew his limits. These were all good qualities for a leader, and Harry gleaned that the boy firmly believed he was the real deal.

He had hoped to see some sinister plans in the Young Griff's mind, but he found nothing nefarious other than some vengeful thoughts about House Lannister and Baratheon. The Young Griff had been brought up with the firm belief that he was Aegon Targaryen, the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell. He thought about making a trip down the memory lane of Jon Connington’s mind, but he thought better about it. It was not exactly a pleasant experience to sift through piles of memories in search of a small piece of information.

So, Harry devised a simpler solution to the dilemma. He planned to extract some blood from the Young Griff and look for similarities with Jon’s or even Nymeria’s blood. It was less reliable than comparing the Young Griff’s blood with Rhaegar’s or Elia’s, but he’d have to work with what he had.   

‘I suppose I’ll have to look into crafting a whole new rune array to trace sibling blood ties.’ Harry thought with a frown.

He quickly cleaned up and dressed in fresh clothes. He chose to wear a blue doublet with gold trimmings and black breeches as he prepared for a feast organised by Prince Doran in their honour. But after the feast, Prince Doran had also requested a closed-door meeting to discuss a personal matter. While that invite was solely for himself, he managed to include Robb. As the future head of House Stark, Robb’s presence in these talks was necessary. Some experience dealing with other nobles, especially that of other kingdoms, was sure to be a boon for Robb’s future.

The feast in Sunspear was a lively affair like all feasts in the Seven Kingdoms. The tables in the feast hall were filled with lemon cakes, pies, lobster, and many other delicacies. There were even rare spicy meats claimed to be Summer Island delicacies. The dance floor was filled with nobles of low and high standing dressed in fine silks and glittery colourful facemasks.  

“Are you not joining the festive, Harrion?”

Harry found Nymeria holding two cups of wine in her hands, coming to a standstill near him dressed in a shimmering golden dress.

“My sisters would enjoy this, but not me.” Harry shrugged.

“I know what you’d enjoy. I’d pull you into my bed and have my way with you.” Nymeria winked at him, smiling sultrily, “But for now, how about some Dornish Red?”

Harry took the offered cup while shooting Nymeria a warning look as she brushed her hips closer to his own in a rather public display of affection.

“What?” Numeria raised a brow challengingly.

“Are you intentionally trying to start rumours so that I’ll be pressured to accept the betrothal offer from Prince Doran?” Harry asked with exasperation.

“Is it working?” Nymeria asked coyly.

“No.” he said bluntly, shooting her an unimpressed stare.

“Really! Have you forgotten what it felt like to be in bed with two Dornish women?” Nymeria asked sultrily, her eyes glinting with a familiar ember of passion he had seen at the Water Gardens, “If you have forgotten, I’m more than happy to remind you.”

Harry took a quick sip of the wine after he made sure to check it was safe to drink.

“Did Arianne put you up to this?” Harry asked.

“Oh, we are pretty much sure about what we want.” Nymeria said boldly.

 “Are you? Let me guess. Arianne thinks she can improve her position and chances of maintaining her position as the heiress by marrying me. She thinks my military might ensure her ascension as the Princess of Dorne and keep her brother from usurping her post. Am I wrong?”

There was stunned silence from Nymeria after he finished.

“How do you…?” Nymeria looked at him with wide eyes.

“I know many things that happen under the sun. Your deserts are not as secretive as you might imagine.” Harry said with a snort but covered it up before the guest close by could notice by taking another sip from the wine cup.

Nymeria remained silent for a moment before she set her wine cup aside.

“Dance with me.” Nymeria insisted, pressing a mask to his face.

Harry drained the last drops of wine in his cup and snaked his left hand around Nymeria’s waist before stepping together onto the dance floor. The bards started performing the Dornishmen’s wife. He listened to the first few lines of the song as he followed the fast pace set by Nymeria on the dance floor.

‘The Dornishman's wife was as fair as the sun,
and her kisses were warmer than spring.
But the Dornishman's blade was made of black steel,
and its kiss was a terrible thing.’

“Nice song, isn’t it?” Nymeria asked.

“Indeed. You should ask your cousin whether she really wants my help to maintain her hold on Dorne. If she does, it won’t come free. No matter how much I enjoy our dalliances in bed, my power and might are not so easily bought.” he said bluntly.

“What do you want, Harry?” Nymeria asked.

Her expression was hard to decipher behind the red mask she chose to wear. But he could guess it was not pleasant. But he had nothing nefarious against the Dornish. If anything, many of his long-term plans depended on the Dorne and their rise in power in the region.

So, he leaned in close and allowed her to rest her cheek against his shoulder so that he could whisper into her ear.

“Restoration of the Winter Throne and the Principality of Dorne. Independence from the Iron Throne is what I ask. Is your cousin prepared to support me in this venture?”

“You want to rebel against the Iron Throne?” Nymeria asked in a hushed whisper.

“Yes.” Harry answered

He could see the disbelief in Nym’s eyes.

“Is it so hard to believe that I don’t enjoy being second to a king who is so far away and is weaker than my family?”

“It is. Your father was friends with Robert Baratheon.” Nymeria said.

“Robert Baratheon is dead, and now his younger brother sits on the Iron throne. The North bowed to the might of dragons, but now there are no dragons in the sky. Why should we bow to a Stormlander?”  

“Why should you?” Harry emphasised that part.

Nymeria had fallen silent and stared at him with wide, observant eyes.

“Let this be our secret, yes. Tell this to Arianne and no one else. If she wants to become the Princess of Dorne with my help, she must be ready to decide Dorne’s future. Join me in breaking away from the Iron Throne and becoming independent kingdoms just like it was before Aegon’s Conquest.” Harry said.

“There’ll be war.” Said Nymeria.

“Are you unhappy with a war against the Iron Throne for Dorne’s freedom?” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

Her lips curved into a wide smile, and Harry had his answer.

****

Harry relaxed in his bathtub after all the feasting, dancing, and long-winded discussion with Prince Doran. The water was slightly heated with his magic as the Dornish desert became chilly at night.

As he expected, Prince Doran was interested in broaching the subject of the betrothal offer in their meeting. But that was a small portion of their discussion. A larger portion of the time in their discussion was spent discussing trade relations, especially the ice trade. The Martells knew they’d stand to lose more trade once the North built the Sunset Canal and Avalonian fleet to ensure the Sunset Sea was free from the Ironborn menace. Therefore, Prince Doran was keen to negotiate better trade deals, while Harry wanted access to Dornish ports and their trade with the Summer Isles.

There was also some discussion on the feasibility of using Dornish ports and ships to expand the glass trade into the Summer Isles as well as Lys and Volantis. That particular idea hinged on Avalon fleet gaining dominance in the Sunset Sea and Dornish cooperation in routing pirates in the Stepstones.

After cleaning himself, Harry stepped out of the tub with a towel wrapped around his waist. As he was about to get dressed and return to work on the runic array, a knock on the door interrupted his plans for the night.

When he opened the door, Harry found Arianne standing outside his door in a flowing black silk dress that hugged her body's fine contours.  

“I was worried my Black Wolf would find his bed less warm.” Arianne said coyly as she gracefully walked into his room without any inhibition.

Harry cast his eyes out, but he could only see the fluttering lights here and there in the castle as night had consumed it. Still, he put a slew of privacy charms on his room as he closed the door and followed Arianne. She had already set herself on his bed and sat there boldly with her luscious black hair undone and her eyes shining with an excited gleam under the candlelight.

“I’m told that my father broached the subject of betrothal with you in confidence.” Arianne said, a lone finger twirling a lock of her hair while she gazed at him imploringly.

“He did.” Harry admitted.

“And what did you say?” Arianne asked, leaning forward conveniently, letting her dress slip a bit, showing off her cleavage.

“Did Prince Doran say anything to you?” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No.” Arianne pouted.

“Then perhaps it’s better for you not to know.”

“What if I make it worth your while, my lord.” Arianne winked at him sensually as she pushed one of the straps that kept her silk dress aloft from her shoulder.  

“Is that a risk that you should take, Arianne? What if I reject the proposal in truth and just want to use you by intentionally keeping you in the dark?”

“I don’t believe you would reject the betrothal offer.” Arianne said confidently.

“Why so?” he asked in amusement.

“Who else would tolerate another woman in your marriage bed, Harrion? If you marry me, you can also bed Nymeria or any other woman you want. Can any other woman make such a claim?” Arianne pointed out.

“You make an interesting point.” Harry said, “But that is not enough to tie my fortunes with you.”

“Ah, yes. Your plan to have the North go independent along with Dorne.” Arianne said with a contemplative look.

“Afraid of having to fight a war?” Harry asked with a chuckle.

“We Dornish know more about wars for independence than the Northerners.” Arianne said with a scowl.

“Oh, I know. I admire the tenacity of Dorne. With no dragons in the sky, I ask you, what prevents Dorne from declaring independence? Especially when you’ll have my support.”

“Why do you want the North and Dorne to go independent from the Iron Thorne?” Arianne asked.

“Why should I or my children serve those with lesser power?”

“I suppose that is a good reason as any.” Arianne nodded to herself before crawling into the bed and slipping down the send strap holding her black dress.

“I’ll give you my answer in bed.”

Harry couldn’t discard such an invitation, especially when the Dornish princess snatched the towel he had wrapped around his waist with a playful laugh.  

*** Lemon in Discord ***

Harry watched Sunspear disappear from the bow of the Liberator.

“Did you get it?” Robb asked, joining Harry to watch the coast of Dorne disappear in the distance.

Harry pulled out a small vial of blood from his pocket and showed it to Robb. He had shared the true identity of the Young Griff with Robb on the morning of their departure and his plans to confirm whether the boy was a mummer or the real Aegon.

“If he is Aegon, he’ll be Jon’s brother.” Robb said.

“I know.”

“What’ll you do if he is Jon’s brother?” asked Robb.

“First, we must know whether he is Jon’s brother. After that, Jon will decide what we should do. After all, he is our brother,” Harry said, looking at his twin for approval.

“I agree. But maybe we can just sneak in and throw the Iron Throne into the middle of the sea.” Robb suggested.

“You know what?” Harry patted his brother’s shoulder with a smirk, “That’s a fantastic idea.”