Interlude Part 1
...
( Robar Pov )
Ser Robar Royce did not expect to be in this situation. He had expected to bloody his sword at the side of King Renly, in his Rainbow Guard, fighting alongside him beneath the walls of Storm's End.
However, his king had needed him elsewhere, and it was from a distance that he watched the slaughter under the walls of Storm's End. Soon after, his king was dead, and Robar was left without a cause.
There was the missive from Lord Stark. Trouble in the Vale. His father needed him, and he had to answer. Therefore, Robar started the long road home, carefully avoiding the Lannister men scouring the countryside, and returned to Runestone after a thousand adventures.
It was there that he found father, alongside Andar, Ysilla and Genevieve. All four were in a grim mood. While the Northmen and Riverlanders were covering themselves in glory, Lady Lysa was completely inactive, not even bothering to answer the summons from Robb Stark and Edmure Tully.
Of course, they all knew who really held power in the Vale. It wasn't Lysa Tully, but that slippery fish Baelish. The up-jumped merchant from Gulltown had his slimy fingers all over the Vale, and it was him that Lord Stark's missive logically targeted. Gods thank him and rest his soul, elsewise it would have taken them much longer to uncover the sheer extent of Baelish's misgivings.
But bringing down Lord Baelish was easier said than done. They would need many allies, and such allies were rare in these troubled times. Robar thus scoured the countryside, handing messages to lords personally, gradually building up a small alliance capable of opposing Lady Lysa, if needed.
The moons turned without a word, and Robar thought that all was lost when it was reported that the King in the North had died. With it, the fragile alliance his father had constructed was slowly falling apart, and they all began to worry.
Father then took a risk. Having secured some loyalties, he decided to betroth Ysilla to Harrold Hardyng. This was a move that was supposed to happen only after Baelish had been dealt with, but in desperation, it had to be done much earlier.
It could not have come at a worst moment.
Indeed, news came from the capital that King Joffrey had been poisoned by the Dornish, and that Sansa Stark had escaped, helped out of the capital by Lord Baelish himself, except…Baelish never made it to the Vale.
The crown pointed accusing fingers at the Vale, asking them where Baelish was. Except…Lady Lysa had no answer to offer. Not even a lie. None in the Vale had seen Baelish.
Thus, Lady Lysa suddenly began to grow paranoid, seeing shadows around every corner. With each step, she saw daggers, and suddenly, she realized something: surely her precious Baelish was held somewhere. And who better to detain him than the Royces? After all, surely Baelish would have gone to Old Anchor if he wished to take the most direct route to the Eyrie. And surely, these treacherous Royces who conspired behind her back had taken his ship and held him prisoner.
Lady Lysa summoned his father to the Eyrie. Of course, Robar and Andar openly laughed at this.
Their father, however, was much grimmer. Not answering the summons would be a proof of guilt but answering it would certainly be a trap.
Instead, he ordered everything to be done much faster. He would travel to the Eyrie, but under strong escort, of which Robar was a part of.
However, paranoid as she was, Lysa Arryn expected this. Somehow, she had had the wits to disarm everyone before they were admitted into the Eyrie. The Bloody Gate was locked…they were trapped.
Robar's father then tried to plead his case, but it seemed Lady Arryn had gone completely mad. Instead of letting Robar's father defend himself, she shouted, ranted and screeched before any sentence was finished.
Finally, as if to put an end to this madness, she ordered everyone arrested…and then killed. There would be no trial, nothing.
The room went silent for a few moments, until a guard slew another. Quickly, Robar, his father and his party all grabbed swords, trying to fight their way out of the mountain fortress. But all around them, men fell, wounded or dead, under the numbers.
Robar laughed as he bloodied his sword, now. He wasn't going to die for King Renly, no. He would die a hero's death, worthy of the songs, as one against four, to defend the honor of his family. Soon enough, they would be dead, and Andar would raise his banners in rebellion, claiming the Eyrie for Harrold Arryn.
There would be no need for this.
A deafening screech made itself heard over the mountains. Both sides looked confused for a moment, before a resounding boom came from the terrace.
Suddenly, the walls opposite Robar were caved in, sending stone everywhere, leaving a gash which revealed the unmistakable tail of an animal long thought to be gone from this world: a dragon.
Impossible.
Robar didn't even have time to flinch, frozen in fear, as a man descended from the dragon, clad in grey armor with the Stark sigil in full view.
In his armor, his voice echoed through the devastated room:
"Where is Lady Sansa?"
He was met with deafening silence.
"I will not repeat it twice. You will tell me where Lady Sansa is or I will tear this castle down!"
A brave man clad in Waynwood colours approached, and, clearing his throat, launched back:
"We do not know, ser!"
"Do not play games with me!" came the man's voice, "I came for her, I shall not leave without!"
Robar then stepped forwards, unafraid.
"Ser, my name is Ser Robar Royce! I mean no harm to your person, however, what this man tells you is the truth, we do not know where the Lady Sansa is!" Robar pleaded. "We were summoned here to answer for a crime we have not committed."
"Continue, ser."
"Lady Arryn summoned us to answer for Lord Baelish's disappearance. However, we have had no word of Lord Baelish, nor of Lady Sansa whom he was supposed to bring here. No one has heard from or seen him since he last departed Gulltown."
"Where is Lord Royce?"
"I am here!" Robar's father stepped forward.
"Lord Yohn Royce?" the dragonrider stepped up and removed his helm , revealing his dark hair and grey eyes, "My name is Jon Stark, Lord Regent for his grace, Rickon Stark, King in the North."
A gasp left the audience, but the man continued, undisturbed.
"Lord Royce, do you swear on your honor that you know naught of these accusations?"
"I do, I swear it by bronze and iron, by ice and fire, on my life, Lord Regent."
"My f…uncle told me how good of a man you were, Lord Royce. I believe you. Your son Waymar was a good man, I was told."
The Stark boy then turned to Lady Arryn who was frozen in shock.
"And you, Lady Lysa?" the boy asked. "Do you know where Lady Sansa is?"
Lady Arryn mumbled something, then shook her head.
"It seems to me like I have come at the right moment, then, Lord Royce?" Lord Regent Stark sighed, while another deafening screech was heard outside, along with a massive rumble. "Very well. It seems to me like I shall have to fix this situation myself."
The boy then stepped forwards, unveiling a Valyrian steel sword.
"Arryn men, you have two choices. Lay down your arms now and be spared, or perish in dragonfire like Harren Hoare."
Undoubtedly, everyone immediately threw their swords on the ground.
"Good choice. Lord Royce, you are free to arrest Lady Lysa Arryn and set up a regency for Lord Robin Arryn, provided that you finally come down from your mountains and help us. Meet us at Riverrun."
"Yes, Lord Regent."
"No!" came Lady Arryn's voice, who drew a knife on Lord Robin.
The whole room went silent.
"I will not let those who took Petyr from me lay a hand on me! Do you hear me?"
Lady Arryn had drawn a knife and was holding it disturbingly close from Robin Arryn's throat.
"My lady!" Lord Regent Stark called out, "No harm will come to you or your child, do not delve into madness?"
"Madness?" Lady Arryn laughed. "This is no madness! You are traitors who wish to take Robin away from me! You will never get what you wish!"
Lady Arryn stepped further back, taking step after step.
"Lady Lysa, release the boy, I implore you!" Robar's father yelled, to no avail. Lady Arryn was slowly moving out, but where?
The tension built; men drew their swords. Lady Arryn just moved the knife closer to Robin Arryn's throat.
"You will never take us, do you hear me?" Lady Arryn screamed. "Never!"
With a swift movement, she brought the knife to Robin Arryn, and cut cleanly across his throat. Then, as the assembly stood in shock, she brought it to her own neck.
"I shall not give you the satisfaction, traitors," she raged with gritted teeth, tears flowing down her cheeks, "I'll see you in the Seven Hells."
With that, Lady Arryn slit her own throat, falling limp on the empty floor.
After a moment of silence, Robar sighed deeply.
"What a mess."
...
( Ellaria Pov )
The Water Gardens had some renewed activity, after having been peaceful for so long. Oberyn and Quentyn's return wasn't completely stranger to this, since they had brought some amount of fervor with them.
The first thing Ellaria did was check on all the girls. Luckily, they were all completely fine. Elia was still as stubborn as ever, and Obella, Dorea and Loreza were all completely fine as well. She even checked on Aliandra, whom she had begun to care for as her own.
In fact, Ellaria had adopted many children as her own, starting with the eldest Sand Snakes. It didn't matter which woman fathered Obara, Nymeria, Tyene or Sarella, to her, they were all part of her family, and she would protect them fiercely.
Though, as they grew older, it was hard to see them go. Obara had long since had her independence, Nymeria came to finally love someone, Tyene went to Highgarden, and Sarella had gone to Oldtown too.
Thus, she worried. Her little ones, Elia, Obella, Dorea and Loreza, they would have to fly with their own wings too. Yet, she wasn't ready for it. To her, Elia would always be the shy six-year-old who played hide and seek in the gardens with her. Yet, she was four-and-ten, now, a woman, who rode horses like the best Dornish racers.
Ellaria sighed, wondering when the best time to tell Oberyn would be.
He'd returned a few days ago, but she didn't have the courage to tell him yet. When would that occur, she couldn't tell. Perhaps…another few days?
Ellaria glanced in one wing of the Gardens. Quentyn and Nymeria were sitting there, little Aliandra in the boy's lap, squeezing Quentyn's frog, who was clearly not enjoying the experience by the way it tried to get out of the girl's strong grip.
Aliandra Sand was not like the other girls in the Gardens. She attracted attention, less because of her parentage, but more because of her figure. Her eyes were brown with a dint of golden, but her hair was the most majestic part: bright silver with a slight dark streak, both of which contrasted with her olive skin.
Most would balk at such an appearance, but after all, it was logical: Nymeria's mother had been of the Old Blood of Volantis, who styled themselves as the descendants of Valyria. Most of them had bright silver hair, and while it didn't manifest itself with Nym, it did with her daughter.
The three of them were not alone, there were two blonde-haired girls playing with Aliandra too. Both shared a similar appearance, and Ellaria was well-versed enough in Dornish politics to know who they were.
Quentyn had invited Jennelyn Fowler to come to Sunspear, for reasons she didn't completely understand, nor did she ask. It just seems she brought her sister with her.
Rumors abounded around the Gardens as to why exactly they had been brought there, from the most down-to-earth, to the most ridiculous, to the most scandalous. Of course, Ellaria was well past that. If Quentyn had asked for the Fowler girl to be here, it was for good reason, perhaps another power play vis-à-vis of the Yronwoods, who, it seemed, grew bolder by the day, nearly demanding a marriage between Gwyneth Yronwood and Quentyn.
Quentyn noticed Ellaria's presence and handed Aliandra over to one of the Fowler girls, before excusing himself.
"Are you enjoying home again?" he asked her.
"It feels good to be back," she nodded in response.
"And how are all the girls?" Quentyn continued.
"All are fine, healthy and as problematic as ever," she chuckled.
"I can imagine it's going to get harder with a fifth on the way," the prince smiled slightly.
Ellaira stood still for a moment, mouth agape.
"How did you know?" she finally asked.
"Maester Caleotte let it slip when we were discussing Aliandra's health," Quentyn replied curtly. "Does Oberyn know?"
Ellaria shook her head.
"I haven't found a moment to tell him."
"You must, Ellaria," Quentyn shifted. "He loves you with all his heart, I know it. He might be a bloody idiot in how he shows it, but I know that much."
"I know," Ellaria replied. "However, I feel like the time isn't right. It has been too little time since we came back."
Quentyn nodded simply, and Ellaria tried to deviate the subject.
"How has your reunion with Aliandra been?"
"Wonderful." Quentyn's lips curved into a smile, for once. "I don't think Nym and I have had so much…I don't even think I can put it into words."
Ellaria chuckled.
"The first one is always the most difficult. When the others come, you've already been prepared."
"Really?" Quentyn asked, surprised. "But if your next children are more difficult than the first?"
She shrugged.
"It doesn't matter much, you've already grown from a child to a parent, and you know what to do quite instinctively."
Seeing no response, Ellaria probed further.
"Are you and Nym…"
"No." Quentyn shook his head. "One is enough for us. Perhaps in a few years, when we've grown older and no doubt wiser, but for now, Aliandra is more than enough to keep both of us occupied."
"I understand." Ellaria nodded. "And Nym will likely much like her freedom."
"It was part of it," Quentyn answered back, his hands wandering in his pockets. "But mostly, our freedom, not only hers. Dorne's future is at play, and I cannot have to focus on both a child and Dorne."
"What is coming?" Ellaria asked, worried.
"War," Quentyn sighed. "It doesn't please me either, but we have danced on the sidelines for too long. War is coming, perhaps not to Dorne, but it will involve it."
"War, with whom? Has your vengeance not been complete?" Ellaria frowned.
"Our vengeance is sealed as far as I am concerned. But there remains the issue of whom we choose to bend the knee to. And a Lannister king is not a price I am willing to accept."
"You would go to war for Myrcella?" Ellaria's eyes widened.
"No." Quentyn vehemently shook his head. "Although the prospect is tempting, it would not do. I intend to bring stability to the realm, all the while reinforcing Dorne's position. Bringing Myrcella to the throne would only bring problems, I'm afraid."
Then Quentyn shifted his posture, more reassuring.
"But I promise no harm will come to your daughters, I promise. And I will do everything to protect my cousins, even the one that loathes me."
"Is that a promise, Quentyn?"
"Yes."
"Good." Ellaria crossed her arms. "See that you keep it."
"I shall keep one more," came Quentyn's voice again.
"Which one would that be?"
"I promise that by the time this is over, my idiot of an uncle will have married you, so that your daughters may have a name that is not Sand, a holdfast to keep in perpetuity, and proper marriage prospects."
Ellaria stood there, dumbfounded, while the prince slowly walked back towards the four girls.
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