( Arianne POV )
"You need to tell him, Arianne."
The Dornish princess looked into her childhood friend's sky-blue eyes.
They both had changed from their days in the Water Gardens, in every way. His brown beard had grown, his equally brown hair was now flowing to his shoulders. His eyes were tired, his build thinner, and he walked with a cane, just like her father had.
She, for her part, wore a thick coat, given to her by an understanding Northern lady, hiding the growing bulge in her belly.
She tried to avoid his gaze, instead trying to look through the inexistant cuts in the walls of the Stoney Sept's largest inn.
"You've been wearing thick coats ever since we left Riverrun." Daemon looked at her with a sad gaze. "And Jon hasn't said a word?"
Arianne shook her head. Jon had been more focused on preparing the upcoming travel to Tumbleton with Lords Tully and Arryn rather than pay attention to her, and she hadn't pushed herself onto him, either.
"How long did you think you could hide it?" Daemon asked, expectantly.
"I didn't!" Arianne finally snapped. "I…I didn't want to trouble him in these times, especially when…when…"
"When we're about to meet our countrymen, in open battle?" Daemon asked.
Arianne bowed her head.
"If anything, I doubt there will be any battle." Daemon sighed.
"And that's supposed to reassure me how, exactly?" Arianne lashed out. "The dragons will fight, and Jon's will tear them to shreds, and our countrymen, my brother and uncle amongst them, will burn to a crisp! Is that a death you wish on them?"
Daemon looked at her with sad eyes.
"No. Come on, Arianne, you know I didn't mean that. Jon would never."
Arianne gazed into his eyes. How dare he know what Jon would do better than me?
"I know he wouldn't!" she stared at him, unflinching. "But he's a threat! These Targaryens, they won't stop until Jon is grovelling at their feet or buried deep beneath the ground!"
"They would never, either," Daemon countered, not even answering her tone. "Jon, Edmure and Harry, they're all more useful to them alive. There will be no battle."
"No battle?" Arianne scoffed. "Jon will never bend, neither will Edmure. And the dragons will never accept that. They will want to rule over all Seven Kingdoms. Do you know what this means?"
"I know," Daemon replied simply. "But they will not accept to rule over ashes, either."
"They would." Arianne laughed. "I saw what the Lannisters and Tyrells did to the Riverlands. I saw the destruction they inflicted upon these people. They would be Kings of the ashes, do not be mistaken. Do you remember their words?"
"Fire and Blood, I am no child."
"Fire and Blood, indeed." Arianne nodded at him. "And that's what they'll rule over, once this is all done."
"They'll bend." Daemon sighed. "They all know of the Others, and Quentyn might just know too."
That sent a jolt through her. Daemon did tell her that Quentyn had sent shipments of dragonglass to the Watch before its use was even discovered. How did he know this? Dragonglass was only available on Dragonstone, which meant it was not Dornish surplus.
"They'll bend, but not at any cost," Arianne argued. "Edmure and Jon know that the war against the Others will be costly, and it will be at a great cost to them. They would never choose to bend the knee. Not when they have so much to lose and so little to gain."
"In the end, Jon will take the decision that saves the most lives, whatever it may be," Daemon continued, solemnly. "His lords would hate him for it, but he would do it all the same. Because he knows that if he doesn't, it is the whole of Westeros which will pay for it."
Arianne wanted to answer back, but held her tongue. Daemon was right. Jon would take the decision that would save the most Northern lives. He did so at Riverrun before, and he would again if given the chance.
"Let us hope you are right, then." Arianne glanced at him. "I do not wish to lose my brother, or my uncle."
Daemon stared at her; eyes empty of emotion.
"I'm sorry, Daemon, I didn't know about the Watch."
"Your father ordered it," Daemon coldly replied. "It seems that your brother, for all his faults, had no part in this, and neither had your uncle."
"What do you plan on doing…after?" Arianne asked.
"I doubt your brother would let me come back to Dorne…" Daemon's mind wandered. "Lord Edmure wants good men for his guard. After a few years of leal service, mayhaps, I shall have a keep to call my own, close to the people I love…"
Arianne chuckled at that.
"You've thought about it, haven't you?" Daemon smiled for the first time since she had entered the room.
Arianne looked at him, placing a hand on her belly.
"I…yes, I have. With the child growing inside me, I've only had time to think about…our future." Arianne's hand wandered back down. "I must admit that I would not be opposed to living…so far from Dorne."
"And you would need a household guard, yes?" Daemon mischievously asked.
Arianne punched him lightly in the shoulder, making him wince in pain.
"Apologies, Daemon, I forgot…" Arianne suddenly realized her mistake and leaned in to help him recover.
"It's quite alright, Ari, I am fine…" Daemon held a hand up, refusing her help. "But you need to talk to Jon, and soon. When he learns that you are carrying a child, his child, I do not know what his reaction will be."
"Do you think he will take it badly?" Arianne asked, worried.
Daemon scoffed.
"He loves you, as far as I can tell. More than any of the others I saw in Dorne. I am more worried about the sadness he will feel when he realizes you did not tell him right away."
"He would have left me in Riverrun!" Arianne protested.
"With good reason!" Daemon countered. "You are, what, five-and-ten weeks along, mayhaps twenty? And you tell me that you could convince him that you hadn't noticed? It would take a big mummery from you to do so."
"I did not wish for him to leave south without me." Arianne shook his head. "If he is to achieve peace with the dragons, he will need my help. My kin are fighting on the other side, and it is not Joss, Tyene or Sylva that will help resolve this without bloodshed!"
Daemon sighed, frustrated.
"You are a stubborn woman, Arianne."
"You know me, Daemon," Arianne acquiesced. "But I have grown too. I am stubborn, but with good reason to be."
Arianne smiled. She could make her bed in the Riverlands, if given the chance to do so. Hornvale, Silverhill, Deep Den…all sounded like rich, fertile lands. If Edmure did indeed offer them to Jon, then she would gladly accept them. Although Dorne now seemed so far away…
Daemon suddenly rose up from his seat, leaning on his cane.
"Do you hear that?" he asked.
Arianne leaned closer, and, indeed, several sounds were coming from the hallway.
"I do. What is that commotion?" she turned to Daemon with an eye raised.
"Let us find out." Daemon nudged her to open the door to the outside, which was guarded by two fully armored Northmen.
The two didn't react when they exited the door, nor did they oppose Arianne and Daemon when they walked down the corridor, towards the noise.
It was in the hall, on the ground floor, that the commotion was wildest. Two groups were clearly staring each other down, with swords almost drawn.
She and Daemon hurried down the staircase, eager to get a better look.
At the same time, the front door burst open, revealing Jon and Edmure, accompanied by several of their own household guard.
Finally, having arrived at the bottom of the staircase, Arianne could now see the two groups clearly. One was mostly composed of Valemen, with Harry the Heir in front, his mouth and cheek bleeding, whilst the other was composed, to Arianne's surprise, of Dornishmen, with Ser Joss Hood in front, his hand solidly on his sword, ready to draw it.
"What is going on here?" Lord Edmure's voice boomed through the packed inn's walls.
Everyone stood at attention. Edmure Tully's tall, imposing figure allowed him to dominate the hall in a way Jon struggled to. As such, it was always Edmure Tully who started and ended councils, but also was the main arbiter of disputes.
"This man hit me!" Harrold Arryn angrily shoved his arm off of an accompanying lordling, pointing his finger straight at Ser Joss. "I demand that his hand be brought to me. A lordling may not strike a Lord Paramount."
"The only hands you'll receive from me, you will be able to feel on your face once more," Ser Joss calmly replied, his hands not leaving the pommel of his sword, "you tried to rape one of the ladies I was sworn to protect."
"Lies!" Harrold Arryn took a step forward. "You Dornish scum, dishonourable liars as usual. That wench threw herself at me and tried to take away my coin, only running off when I decided to punish her crime."
Arianne didn't flinch at the insult, instead choosing to remain next to Daemon, far removed from this little debate. Instead, she bided her time, waiting to see where this was going.
Edmure Tully did not have her patience.
"Which maiden are we talking about, Lord Arryn?" he asked expectantly.
"The blonde one!" Harrold Arryn replied without a hint of hesitation, pointing straight at her.
To Arianne's shock, she recognized Tyene, her dress half-ripped, her blue eyes teary, with Sylva tending to her wrist, which looked in a bad state.
Edmure stepped forward, his pace confident, towards the Dornish party, with Jon following closely behind him, though he still hadn't uttered a word.
He then motioned for Tyene to come forward, whilst Joss relaxed the hold on his pommel, though kept his hand close to his weapon.
"My lady," Edmure asked Tyene, "what happened?"
"Lord Arryn lured me into his rooms for he told me that a Dornishwoman had taken ill," Tyene said, between two sobs, which Arianne clearly knew were there to add their little effect for Lord Edmure.
"Having helped some of my fellow Dornish with herbal potions before, I naturally accepted. However, once I reached his rooms, they were empty, and he had closed the door, barring any escape."
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