Game of Thrones: StormBorn

"Did he say why it would be in King's landing?"

"Yes my lord, the King invited him to host it there."

"King Robert… He has only just finished his tour of the Crownlands and he is already planning something like this? It must not be his prerogative."

"Well… there are rumors that since Prince Tommen was born the Queen has been expanding her reach in court."

Doran felt his mood fall almost immediately.

"Lannisters." He felt the acid on his tongue as he spoke that name. "And I would wager the old Lion and his dogs will be there as well." He turned to the messenger, smartly dressed as all of Prince Arthur's men were.

"Very well, you may inform Prince Arthur and my daughter that I will, of course, attend their wedding, though I find its location regrettable. That is all."

"Yes My Lord." The man nodded sharply turning to go.

Prince Arthur…

His soon to be son in law was a… strange, subject in his mind. Not an I'll one, not entirely, but still, he found himself hard-pressed to forgive what the boy had done to Arianne, even if it had been at her prompting. Blood magic to tie family lines together… well, it wasn't that he couldn't see the use in an oath that shook the user, but seeing what it had done to Arianne with the boy's absence had nearly made him strangle the Prince when he actually arrived.

Certainly, her cousins had kept her from suicide, but that sheer melancholy had no right being inflicted by some foolish child and his magic.

Not that both Arianne and Ellaria did not testify to his favor. It was more that Doran didn't care for their testimony.

'Bah.' He had her now anyway, though his wife who had chosen to reside in the isles and try to rebuild her city there. Arianne had asked to live with her mother so that she might join her betrothed, and he had been hard-pressed to deny her.

His own heart longed for the days when he and Mellario saw eye to eye, but they were long gone now.

He sighed, standing from his chair. 'This is no time for melancholy.' He thought, tapping on the window sill. He glanced down at Oberyn, down in the courtyard entertaining his daughters.

Doran closed his eyes, they were happy in a way he found it hard to be at times. Even as a boy he had been the heir, Destined with the responsibility to lead Dorne.

He hoped Quentin was not too changed by the pressure. Whatever his elder sister thought she could not rule Dorne herself, not when her future husband seemed destined to call himself king of Southern Essos, and even the Basilisk isles if the recent papers were accurate.

Dorne would not be added to that conquest, no matter how admirable it was.

Still, it was a powerful tool to take revenge for Elia, and for that, he could hardly complain, indeed, this marriage itself presented opportunities. "Oberyn." He shouted, down to the courtyard, for he had no intention to walk, distracting the man from his games. "Come up here, I have something to discuss with you."

He smiled grimly, it was unfortunate to interrupt Oberyn with his daughters, but his brother could spare a few moments with all the time he got to spend with them.

Soon Oberyn stepped into his office, having left the sand snakes behind, no doubt to go cause trouble somewhere else.

"Brother?"

"We've received a message from Prince Arthur, he intends to Marry Arianne on the day of his fifteenth namesday, though his uncle has apparently decided to pre-empt him on the location."

Oberyn raised an eyebrow for a second before it returned to its normal state.

"I had thought I saw one of his messengers go by, I take it the location is King's landing then."

"Yes, and the rumor in the isles is apparently that it's some plot of the Queen's. Though I note that the people of his kingdom have a habit of blaming her for many things."

"They are not always inaccurate, though often exaggerated. He did distribute news of her calls for him to cede Dragonstone to the public."

"Indeed, at times I believe that his sharpest swords are those papers of his, whatever his cannons might do." Doran smiled bitterly, his own attempts to replicate the devices had become less necessary as the Prince had offered to send some of their older models over at a small price. Apparently his own pace of development was so rapid as to not want to waste men on the older devices, but they still seemed to split walls well enough.

Half of him thought the gift had been an insult to Twin Lannister, and his own attempts at making the weapons.

"Be that as it may though, I didn't call you up here because of papers or cannons, I brought you up here because a tournament will inevitably be attached, and with the whole damn kingdom invited there is little chance Lord Twin will fail to attend."

"And where Lord Tywin goes, the mountain follows." Oberyn finished. "Not to say that Lannister blood might not also be available."

"Only if it's in the tournament, or they expose their necks entirely, which seems unlikely. For now, a Clegane skull would serve a good gravestone."

Oberyn nodded, his hand resting on the hilt at his side. "I understand, Elia will not sit avenged if I can manage it."

"Good, and if nothing else perhaps I can see about getting Quentin married into the Reach." Oberyn sighed. "If and when Robert dies, having the South of Westeros united would be ideal."