Olyvar follows Qoren back to the Planky Town, and while on their way there, Qoren reveals that he is the heir to Dorne, having been fostered since he was two namedays old in Skyreach. And as they talk, Olyvar becomes disenchanted with who he thought was his friend.
He sees too much first man blood in him, and does not see the true blood of the Rhoynar. He thinks Qoren to be weak, incapable and unworthy, and decides to take the prince's seat for himself, for he shares Qoren's dark hair and skin tone.
...
One night, Olyvar leaves his companion in the night, and rides forth to the Sun's gate of Sunspear, where he presents himself as Prince Qoren. He answers the questions from the guards, and gives them a dagger with the sun and spear of House Martell that was given to his foster father as a gift to return once his fosterage had ended, on his twentieth nameday.
The whole court is enchanted by Olyvar, and he quickly grows into his role. He is just and merciful, and his talents are admired by everyone. However, Qoren eventually makes his way to Sunspear too, to Olyvar's horror. Qoren asks to see Olyvar, but the tailor refuses and dismisses him as an insane pretender.
However, Qoren's arrival has caused a stir in court, and Princess Sylva's husband, prince-consort Vincent has grown suspicious. To ease his suspicions, Princess Sylva organizes a test. Since one is supposedly a tailor, she tasks them both to make the most beautiful Martell doublet possible. Olyvar, of course, makes a sumptuous garb, but Qoren fails miserably."
It should end there, then.
"Princess Sylva is now completely taken aback. She does not know which one is really her son, and fears that the fake prince would've failed the task on purpose. Therefore, she seeks advice from the Old Lady of the Rhoyne, the ancient of the Orphans. The Old Lady tells her not to worry, and has the princes sent to her on the banks of the Greenblood.
On the banks of the Greenblood, she takes the prince each on their own and makes them pick between two boxes, with inscriptions made of pure diamonds. On one of them there is the inscription Honor and Glory while the other reads Happiness and Wealth. Qoren chooses the former, while Olyvar chooses the latter.
The Old Lady then brings them before the court at Sunspear, and has them open the boxes. Qoren's box contains a crown of suns and spears with a sceptre, while Olyvar's contains a needle and a thread. Horrified, Olyvar begs Qoren for mercy, but Qoren takes him aside.
He tells him that Olyvar is his uncle's bastard son, and they share the same blood. Qoren became enamored with the Fowler heir, Jennelyn, and had decided to marry her. Should he have accepted his first offer, they would have swapped places.
But Olyvar was arrogant, and now Qoren is sad because although he thinks Jennelyn will accept to become his wife, that she will have to leave her place as heir and her family that she loves too. As such, Qoren does not punish Olyvar, and instead exiles him to Myr.
Olyvar is devastated, of course, and considers jumping off of the ship to make things right. However, once in Myr, he decides to start anew and sells the diamond box to open his own shop, using the needle and thread he received from the Old Lady.
To his surprise, he discovers that the needle and thread are magical, and that the needle never breaks and even sews whenever he sleeps, and the thread never ends. Thanks to the Old Lady, Olyvar achieves the wealth and happiness he always craved, even if he did not become a prince."
"A touching tale, but the princess should have punished Olyvar harder." Catelyn frowned. "No mother who just saw her child spurned by another would have let him get out with no consequences."
"I dislike the tale, too, but for other reasons." The prince replied.
"I dislike it because of the boxes. The choice Olyvar made wasn't wrong. Why would happiness and wealth be the wrong choice? Admittedly, honor and glory are fine, but what is the point when you cannot share it with someone you love? When you cannot bring yourself to live a happy life, sharing your wealth with the ones you need? There was no wrong choice in what the Old Lady proposed them."
"It's but a tale." The dornish bastard smile. "Tales don't need to make sense."
"I agree." Ser Gulian also nodded. "And in my opinion, the choice reflected what both of them desired, not necessarily what a prince of Dorne would want to uphold as their own values. Because the real prince chose Honor and Glory, it was under it that the crown lay. Not because it was the wrong choice, but that's because of who the real prince was."
"Tales are open to interpretation, that's what makes them so fond to read and hear, no?" Catelyn asked, handing her empty tea cup to the Qorgyle heir. "I am thankful for your company tonight, but we will be riding hard tomorrow, and I fear that I need to rest. My bones are not that young anymore."
"Goodnight, my lady." The Dornishmen waved, staying a bit longer in the cold.
They reached Storm's End two days later, and soon a parlay was organized between Renly and Stannis.
She of course arrived first, direwolf banner floating in the air near Durran's massive keep. The Dornish were soon to follow, with the sun and spear of the Martells being quite an odd sight in these regions.
Of course, Renly and Stannis waited a little longer, with Stannis arriving first and Renly arriving last. And while she was practiced in waiting, she could see that the Dornish were much less willing to partake in this little game, and many of them were already fidgeting or uneasy.
Their prince though, was more focused on looking at the impressive battlements of Storm's End, no doubt looking to draw them at a more opportune moment. Unless, that is, he already did so.
Lord Stannis greeted her, and offered condolences for her husband, yet added that he was no friend of his, which slightly angered her.
"He was never your enemy, my lord. It was Lord Eddard who broke the siege here, when you were besieged by the Tyrells."
"At my brother's command." Lord Stannis pointed out. "He did his duty; I will not deny it. Have I ever done less? I should have been Robert's hand."
"That was your brother's doing. Ned never wanted it."
"Yet he took it all the same. Still, I give you my word that there will be justice for his murder."
"Another king that is quick to promise heads he does not possess." Prince Quentyn chuckled loudly besides her, resuming her thoughts quite well.
"Prince Quentyn, I did not expect you to find you here, either." Lord Stannis turned his head ever so slightly.
"Just doing my duty for my house, your grace." The prince shrugged. "I'm sure you can understand."
"Duty to what, Prince Quentyn?" he asked. "Dorne is part of the Seven Kingdoms yet I find you with my traitor brother. Shouldn't you be at my side, instead of his?"
"I am no less at his side than I am on yours, your grace." The prince answered simply. "I was tasked to seek which king would give us justice, and it so happens that your brother was the first one I met."
He had a way with words, this one. He called Lord Stannis, "your grace", just like he did Renly. The Dornish were truly on no one's side yet, and it seemed like they would only be on whose side gave them their vengeance.
"What happened to your kin was a terrible crime, one that shames House Baratheon." Lord Stannis admitted. "I shall rectify that mistake when I bring the traitorous, incestuous Lannisters to heel."
Catelyn remembered the letter that prince Quentyn had shown her, signed by Stannis Baratheon, which revealed that Robert's supposed children by the Queen were actually bastards born from a relation between Cersei Lannister and her brother, Jaime, the kingsguard, who now lay on the fields of Riverrun. Would Cersei even have been so mad? But it had made sense, with all that happened…
She didn't make out what Prince Quentyn answered to Lord Stannis, too deep in her thoughts, but she did make out what Prince Quentyn whispered.
"And you, Stannis Baratheon, stood as Master of Ships for longer than Renly was Master of Laws and you stood aside and did nothing when we asked for justice. Like the others."
"Your brother promised us both the same you offered." She finally spoke again. "But truth be told, and speaking only for myself, I wish to have my daughters back."
"If I find your children when I take the city, I shall send them to you." Stannis' tone implied nothing good.
And so, they bickered, about why Stannis hadn't taken the capital, and went here instead. About how Robb had been crowned King in the North, and was looking to make friends, not enemies.
"King have no friends." Stannis had answered bluntly. "Only subjects and enemies."
It was Renly in his shining armor that saved her, taking to the field himself, with Brienne of Tarth to carry his banner. The two traded words, while she helplessly looked on at the two who were once brothers, being ready to kill each other for a crown.
At her side, she could see the scarred prince was growing uneasy, and reached for his pouch, bringing out the frog that had been hiding there.
"Listen Achilles, I know the red woman looks scary." He spoke to him, as if it understood him. "And she scares me too, but you are going to have to stop moving around your pouch all the time, otherwise I am going to go mad with you pushing around my chest all the time."
The frog croaked once before pouncing back into the prince's cloak. By then, the two were already talking about battle. Catelyn tried to calm them down and make them see reason. There was a common foe to be beaten.
"The whole realm denies your claim, brother." Renly laughed openly. "Old men, unborn children in their mother's wombs. They deny it in Dorne, and they deny it at the Wall. No one wants you for their king. Sorry."
"They do not seem to deny it in Dorne considering they funded quite a bit of my fleet." Stannis scoffed. "Did you not, Prince Quentyn?"
Renly's face turned towards the prince, whose face had turned quite red.
"Well, we had trade agreements, your grace. I hardly consider that funding your fleet." He tried to defend himself, albeit not very convincingly. "What you do with our gold is not of our concern."
It looked as if Renly was slapped in the face, but prince Quentyn quickly regained his composure.
"However, you are a bit too quick in thinking Dorne would bend the knee to you, your grace." The prince straightened up. "The last time we bent the knee to a king who burned his enemies alive, it did not go very well. Especially since you went after the faith."
Catelyn's face went white.
"What?" she looked to Lord Stannis, whose face concealed any emotion.
"It was necessary." Stannis shrugged.
"Burning a sept was necessary?" Quentyn scoffed. "The last time someone tried to do that in Dorne, it did not go over very well. And these men had dragons. Tell me, your grace, why in the seven hells did you decide to burn down the sept of the Conqueror?"
"So that Lightbringer might be forged and Azor Ahai may be reborn in salt and smoke." The red priestess answered for him. "He will be the light that brings the dawn, and the false gods burned so that R'hllor could forge the hero that will save the realms of men."
"If only you knew…" Prince Quentyn whispered. She did not hear the rest as she stood there, horrified.
Stannis had burned a sept. And the statues of the gods. He would find no friends in the Riverlands, that he could be sure of.
"You…you burned your gods?" Catelyn finally made out.
"I stopped worshipping these gods then they sank the Windproud in the bay and made me watch helplessly as my parents drowned beneath my feet. They have done nothing for me. The Red god however, he has shown me signs. Of my destiny, of my fate. He has given me power."
Lord Stannis continued, stoic as ever as he just shrugged one of the greatest abominable acts he could have committed.
"You can bend the knee or be destroyed. I will not burn your septs, for they are not mine to burn, but I shall give you the torches should you want them."
Catelyn stood dumbfounded, while it seemed Renly's escort was seething with rage. Despite this, Renly remained calm and continued his tirade about how Stannis should bend the knee to him.
Too shocked by what she had heard, she collected her emotions and her wits for a moment. But did she really want to, anymore? She was sent here to negotiate an alliance between her son and Renly, not between the Baratheon brothers. And although she desperately wanted them to form a common front against the Lannisters for the time being, did she really want an alliance with a man who burned the sacred house of the gods?
It turns out that she didn't have to make that choice. Ser Archibald inquired of her wellbeing, and noticed that Lord Stannis had left the field.
It had all been for naught. The Baratheon brothers would kill each other and soak the Stormlands with blood, while Robb and Edmure, and their broken host, tried to face the lions alone. And even though the Dornish seemed quite eager to wet their swords with Lannister blood, there were still the Red Mountains and Dornish Marches between them and any road to King's Landing.
She felt very tired as they headed back towards camp, where she took part in Renly's war council. Of course, Rowan advised caution and Tarly advised to finish Renly as soon as possible. It had seemed like Renly had chosen the Huntsman's option.
"My lord." She said aloud. "If you are set on battle, my purpose here is done, I ask you leave to return to Riverrun."
"You do not have it." Renly replied swiftly.
"I came to help you make a peace. I will not help you make a war."
"I daresay we shall prevail without your five-and-twenty, but I wish to see what befalls rebels with your own eyes so that your son hears it from your own lips. You shall not be put into danger, do not fear."
Catelyn's heart sank and she didn't hear any of the lords bickering about the upcoming dispositions of battle.
"Prince Quentyn." Renly frowned, looking at the young dornishman, who unlike her, seemed to very much enjoy what was going on.
"Your grace?" he asked.
"We have things to discuss. I expect you to be in my tent tomorrow at dawn whilst I prepare with Ser Brienne."
The young prince's face went completely pale.
"Erm…very well your grace. May I have a few of my men for protection?" he asked.
"Fine." Renly growled. "Ser Loras. Ser Robar. You will stay with the Dornish at all times until the battle starts. I do not wish to end up with a dornish dagger or sword in my back."
The two knights acknowledged their liege's order, and looked at the Dornish with disdain.
She spared another look at prince Quentyn, whose blood had seemed to drain from his face. What had scared him so? Did he really plan on killing Renly? It made little sense if he did.
She saw him turn to his lover and whisper in her ear, right beside her.
"We are so screwed."
...
I'll appreciate if you guys can throw some power stones to keep the story going.