Arianne found herself in a dark, cloying room. The summer heat was trapped inside thanks to the heavy curtains that’d been drawn over all of the windows, openings, and even doorways. It felt like she was trapped in a velvet-lined box.
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It wasn’t the heat that was bothering her so much as it was the barely-audible murmurings coming behind one of the covered doorways. Her father was in there with her uncle, and they’d been there since the sun first began to rise over the horizon. It’d been like that for days now, ever since the death of her brother, Quentyn, and so many others at the tourney grounds.
In the aftermath of it all, her mother, Lady Mellario, had chartered a ship to ferry her back to Sunspear with Quentyn’s body. In one of the rare occasions where her and Arianne’s father, Prince Doran, agreed, they’d both decided that he shouldn’t be buried in the capital despite the many offerings. His body was embalmed by the Silent Sisters and then taken straight to the docks. Most of her family had gone back with them; only Arianne, Doran, Oberyn, and Areo Hotah remained behind.
Arianne had expected to return home as well only for her father to stop her.
“You’ll stay here,” he’d told her, like it was a simple fact that she had no choice in.
She’d almost wanted to leave just to spite him, but having to face the reality that she’d be leaving the capital without a proper husband darkened her mood more than it already was. She couldn’t even muster up the energy to make a feeble attempt at finding another proper husband, not that there was anyone that she wanted after seeing Harry. So, she’d remained here, watching from her rooms as the new king was crowned.
Prince Harry Baratheon. The man she’d wanted so desperately to be her husband was being married in a matter of days to Margaery Tyrell, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Arianne shook her head. She’d dwelt on that man enough. There was no sense in getting worked up about it yet again. She had to look to the future and what she could do to establish her place in Dorne. With Quentyn dead, her father’s chosen heir was now gone. Would his favour return to her or would he choose Trystane instead?
After all these years apart, Arianne truly didn’t know what type of man that Quentyn had turned into. She remembered him when he was young, rosy cheeked, and fond of honey cakes. The man she’d witnessed in King’s Landing was broad of shoulder, taller than she’d expected him to grow, and a conciliator, someone who tried to bring about peace whenever conflict arose. Though, she’d only seen him a few times. Perhaps there was more to him than that, but she’d never have the chance to know more.
He was dead, and all of her animosity towards him had died with him.
It was her father’s fault truly that she’d ended up with such anger in her heart towards a young boy who’d been forced into a position much as Arianne had. It took until the fourth day after his passing that Arianne finally allowed herself to grieve for him, and now every interaction with her father stirred up those feelings within her.
There was more shuffling behind the heavy curtains. Arianne picked up her glass of wine and slowly savoured the sweet and gentle flavour upon her tongue as the curtain was thrown aside and Oberyn and her father walked in.
Still unable to walk easily, her father clung to Oberyn’s arm as he slowly made his way into the room. It was the type of frailty he almost never showed, and simply by seeing it, Arianne realised that something odd was afoot. With her father, everything had a meaning to it, whether or not anyone else perceived it. He was deliberate in his manoeuvrings, and showing off this weakness was either meant to buy sympathy from her or generate something else that she couldn’t conceive of at the moment.
“My apologies for the delay,” Prince Doran began as he settled into his cushioned chair. Only once he was fully comfortable did Oberyn sit in the seat next to him, directly across from Arianne. “There has been much change in these past days and some important matters needed to be attended to first.”
Was he truly going to ignore the most important matter to her? Quentyn was dead, and they were all still grieving, but there was never time to sit back while other noble houses plotted and schemed.
“But not so important that I should be in attendance of them?” Arianne remarked. “Or am I still no longer your heir?”
An odd look passed across her father’s face. It was something indiscernible, but her uncle’s was much more plain to see. He looked to the side of the room as he so often did when he was confronted with something he needed to find an important answer to.
So, this wasn’t merely a trifling matter. Good. It was well past time that Arianne had spoken to her father directly about matters of importance.
“Say what you have to say,” Arianne told her father, trying to provoke him. “Or give me my leave.”
If her bitter words could sting, Doran showed no sign of them doing so. He remained passive in his chair, examining her through that even gaze of his.
“I have much to say, and you have much to learn,” Doran told her.
Arianne snorted aloud. “It’s a bit late for that, father. You’ve spent the past several years neglecting my education, except for that from Maester Caleotte. Say your piece then.”
“I understand your bitterness, Arianne. Better than you could imagine.”
“Truly? I was unaware that you possessed such marvellous powers,” Arianne replied snarkily. “It’s a wonder that it took you this long to notice such feelings.”
“I had hoped not to suffer them for long, but my plans made across the Narrow Sea were fraught with problems from the beginning,” Doran explained calmly. “Everything that I had imagined would come to pass has proved to be impossible now.”
Arianne cocked her head to the side in confusion. “The king and queen’s deaths interrupted that much?”
“No,” Doran shook his head. “It was plans laid years ago when you were but a babe. Though, in truth, they began the day that word arrived that my sister, Elia, was massacred here in the capital. For years now, my brother and I have promised vengeance upon those behind the massacre and a due recompense for our family’s suffering. You were intended to be the recipient of the latter, but a letter arrived not a day after the king’s death that changed everything.”
Doran fell into a fit of coughs as Oberyn provided a glass of wine for him to drink from. He did so quickly, nearly draining the cup before he returned it to Oberyn’s hands.
“I never wanted you to inherit Dorne,” Doran told Arianne.
Finally, he admitted to what she’d known all along.
Ever since she’d overheard that damned conversation, she knew that nothing she could do would ever be good enough for her father. Whatever it was that she’d done to upset him or because of whatever prejudices he held within his heart, he had tried to make her suffer by attempting to marry her off to old, weak fools from poor houses.
This was the confirmation of everything Arianne had known, and it hurt more than she expected it to.
A thousand rages rose up with her chest, each one fighting to be the first one out of her mouth, but her father beat her to it.
“I wanted you to inherit all of the Seven Kingdoms,” he said.
Arianne made an awkward sound as the first curse strangled in her throat. He wanted her to do what?
Evidently, her confusion showed plainly across her face because her father nodded along in confirmation.
“Your uncle helped me to establish a secret betrothal between you and Prince Viserys Targaryen, the rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms,” Doran explained. “He travelled to Essos some years ago and met with the boy and his sister, Princess Daenerys. It was in Braavos that the agreement was sealed, and since then, Viserys attempted to raise up an army to bring back to the Seven Kingdoms in order to reclaim his throne. You were to be his wife, but he died no more than a week ago. We only just received the letter the day after King Robert’s death.”
Dead?
Frankly, Arianne couldn’t even begin to digest the matters of this supposed betrothal. What mattered more was what she had suffered through.
“So this is why you kept me from any proper suitors?” She nearly yelled at him.
“Yes,” Doran answered plainly. “You were betrothed to another. It would have been improper—”
“Improper?” Arianne scoffed. “What was improper was you not informing me about this! Did you even consider for a moment as to how I would react to you masking such secrets from me?”
“Of course we did,” Oberyn said more gently than he normally spoke to her.
“This is between me and my father,” Arianne snapped harshly at him. “You’re nothing but his lap dog, and if you’ve known about this all along, then you’ve betrayed me just as much as he has. So shut your mouth and come to heel.”
It angered her even more that her uncle didn’t react to her threats. He simply relaxed back in his seat as though her words were meaningless chatter.
“I love you, my daughter,” Doran began gently. “But you are brash and impulsive. The Dornish sun runs through your veins like it does in so many of our family, but that fiery energy has not always led to you making the wisest of choices. Could you honestly tell me that you would have been able to keep this a secret?”
“Perhaps not when I was younger,” Arianne admitted. “But my twentieth nameday has long since passed, and I am no longer a child. I know how to keep a secret.”
“You could be right. Maybe you could’ve hidden your marriage pact to Viserys Targaryen easily, but you have never been a good actor. You show your emotions too easily.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
Doran looked disappointed as he sat up straighter and spoke to her the way he would years ago when she had done something wrong.
“When suitors came calling for your hand, as they have done ever since you were but a baby, how would you react to their proposals? Would you shut them down with the same anger you normally show or would you exercise restraint with the knowledge that they were never even a possibility in the first place due to your betrothal? Would you rage and storm around Sunspear the same when the only suitors I allow you to meet are old, unsuitable men? Do you not think that our enemies are watching our every move? Did you truly believe that after what was done to our family, to my sister, that Lord Tywin Lannister and the Spider, Lord Varys, would not send spies to Dorne to sniff around for the mere hint of a rebellion or anything odd occurring?
“It has not been an easy thing to hide my rage at those who have done our family wrong. I hear the whispers of our bannermen who call me weak for not avenging Elia or making a larger show of my discontent. They mock me behind my back just loud enough that I might make out a whisper or two because they believe that they can get away with it, that I will do nothing to them. And they are right in that. I have done nothing to them, to any of them, because I have always been focused on a grander game. The game of thrones is not so easily won without sacrifice, and so I sacrificed my pride and my standing with my bannermen with the expectation that you would one day be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.
“I know that you are not the type of woman to merely be seen rather than heard. As queen, you would make your voice known and spread your influence across the realm as much as your husband would. It is the exact characteristics—the blood of Dorne—that I trusted you to use to be a remarkable queen. And they are the exact same reasons why I did not trust you with this plot. I will not ask for your forgiveness, because none is deserved. I have always acted in the best interest of our family.”
As he spoke, Arianne’s anger continued to simmer. His words were sorely lacking; they sounded like the excuses of an old man.
“Would you not say that Oberyn has the blood of Dorne in him too?” Arianne questioned her father sharply.
“Of course,” Doran replied. “But where he is different from you is that he has held my confidence for many years, and I have found him to be trustworthy in keeping secrets—”
“That is because you know him!” Arianne shouted as she got to her feet. She jabbed an accusatory finger towards him and snarled. “You have kept your distance from me ever since I started acting out against you when I learned of your plans for Quentyn. You have only ever observed me from afar! You never gave me the opportunity to enter into your confidences or trusted me with secrets worth keeping. But the worst part of all of this is that I did keep your secret! I told no one about your plans for Quentyn. Not mother, not Quentyn, Trystane, Tyene, or anyone else!”
“Your anger now reinforces my hesitance,” Doran told her. “I may not have been around you, but I have spoken extensively with those that have, and my eyes are able to perceive things far better than you might imagine. I did not trust this to be a secret that you could keep, and that is the end of the matter.”
“Then why are you telling me all of this now?” Arianne demanded. “Aren’t you worried that I’ll tell people about your secret plot to marry me off to a Targaryen? The king would have your head for that!”
“The old king, yes,” Doran nodded. “But King Stannis is another man entirely, and his hatred towards the Targaryens is nothing like his brother’s. I’m certain that still feels shame over being unable to capture the Targaryen children when he led the assault on Dragonstone after Robert’s Rebellion ended—indeed, it was perhaps that very reason that his brother gave him Dragonstone over Storm’s End. He will not recklessly accuse me of anything without proof. However, he is not the key focus here. It is his son who is.”
Harry?
Arianne sucked in a deep breath. Just when she felt like she was making some slight progress on moving on past him, here her father was bringing him back up again.
“Oberyn informs me that the two of you have an… odd relationship. If he was not already engaged to wed Margaery Tyrell, I would have gladly encouraged you to marry him,” Doran said. “But there is still a chance. The wedding has not yet begun, and if you could manoeuvre your way in between them—”
Before she realised what she was doing, Arianne had crossed the room and smacked her father firmly across the face. He recoiled from the blow, rocking in his chair and showing just how frail he’d become. Oberyn made no moves and simply watched on with a steady gaze.
“It’s not enough that you keep these grand plans about my life secret from me, now you expect me to whore myself out to a man who’s already made it clear that he doesn’t want me?” Arianne shouted in his face. “Should I arrive in his chambers naked, offer him any part of my body that he so chooses? Should I let him fuck me like a bitch in heat and then take the evidence smugly to Margaery to ruin their marriage? Do you think me so low that I would do something like that?”
“I think of you as a daughter who’d do anything to marry a handsome man like Harry Baratheon,” Doran replied, rubbing his jaw. “Or am I wrong? Did you not come here with the sole purpose of seducing a man so that he would take you to wife?”
“My goals have changed,” Arianne told him bluntly. “My eyes feel like they’ve finally been opened for the first time, and I understand the world far better than before. You don’t truly love me, do you, father? You may love the fact that you have a daughter, someone to carry on the family legacy and advance your plots, but you don’t care about me, Arianne. Now, because your plans are all ruined, you expect me to debase myself. Even if I succeeded in this foolish plan of yours, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear in several years time that you’ve sent Trystane out east to marry this Princess Daenerys Targaryen—a foolproof way to ensure that no matter what, our family ends up on the throne.”
His silence confirmed it for Arianne. That had been his exact plan that he’d hastily crafted in the past few days. It made sense. Even if Arianne could manage to get on the throne, the ever present threat of a Targaryen line continuing could lead to a war coming to Westeros’ shores. Trystane marrying the princess would do much to promote a future peace or ensure that, if war were to break out, whichever side won would end with one of his heirs on the throne.
“Your plots have led to nothing!” Arianne continued. “Years of waiting led to everything unravelling in a matter of days, and now you’re scrambling. It’s only now that things have gone awry that you’re trying to bring me into your confidence, but there’s one thing that you don’t seem to understand, father. Just as you have never trusted me, I do not trust you. You want revenge against those who killed your sister? Then why have you not gone after the Lannisters?”
“Lord Tywin is a clever man—”
“More excuses for why you delay everything,” Arianne interrupted. “You are as weak as your bannermen say. How you have fooled my uncle into believing that waiting for nearly two decades for revenge is a mystery unto me. Well, I shall play no further part as a mere tool for you to utilise.”
“You are my daughter,” Doran narrowed his eyes. “You will respect me, listen to what I say, and do what is best for our house.”
“What you want is not what is best for our house,” Arianne argued. “I can see it so plainly now. You’ve been so trapped within your own mind attempting to plot and scheme that you’ve done little in the actual world around you to further your goals. I will not tolerate your foolish ideas.”
“Then I shall name Trystane my heir,” Doran threatened her.
Arianne simply snorted. “What does that change? You planned for Quentyn to be your heir.”
“But now I am choosing you!” Doran insisted. “All of my attention and wisdom that you have been craving will be yours if you sit down and listen.”
“I would have done exactly that once,” Arianne commented wistfully. “There was a time I wanted nothing more than to hear you call me your heir and help prepare me for my place in this world. Instead, you abandoned me and simply expected me to fall in line when the time came. That time will never come. I will choose for myself from now on, not out of anger or a desire to rebel against you, but out of a sincere belief that you are unfit to lead our house.”
Doran was simmering with rage. It seemed that the sun of Dorne flowed through his veins as well, but it had remained cooled for too many years. Arianne couldn’t find it in herself to trust him.
She had to carve a path for herself. And she knew exactly where to begin.
Turning sharply, Arianne headed for the curtain that covered the door out.
“Arianne!” Doran called after her, but she ignored him.
Slipping through a small slit in the curtains, Arianne unlatched the door and quickly slipped through it.
She took the stairs two at a time down the tower, ignoring the judgemental stares at her unladylike behaviour, and burst out into the yard of the Red Keep. It was still quite chaotic out there with Baratheon men working to replace the many Lannister men-at-arms who’d once overseen much of the castle’s defences. She ran to the first Baratheon knight she could find and asked where Prince Harry was. Evidently, he’d already had his things moved from the Maidenvault and into Maegor’s Holdfast.
The drawbridge was lowered when she reached it, but several knights guarded the entrance. She told them who she was and said that she needed to speak to Prince Harry on an urgent matter. That drew some sceptical looks, but one of the knights went within the holdfast to find the Prince. Nearly fifteen minutes later, she was granted entry.
The knight took her to one of the upper levels of the holdfast and guided her into a private room. It was beautifully decorated with rich tapestries and fine furniture, but Arianne barely noticed any of it. Her eyes lingered on the door as she waited for Harry to appear.
Only a couple minutes later, he appeared, but he wasn’t alone. Margaery Tyrell came in with him, looking as dainty and beautiful as ever.
“Is everything alright, Lady Arianne?” Harry asked her cautiously.
It was only then that she remembered the last time they had spoken ended with her screaming at him to leave her chambers. She’d made a fool of herself then, acting like a child who didn’t get what she wanted. It’d been a terrible mistake, one that she sorely needed to rectify.
But before that could happen, Arianne knelt on the floor in penance. It was something she never would’ve considered doing to anyone before in her life, but it only felt right now.
“I want you to teach me magic,” she told him.