Sunspear

Doran woke from his slumber to find himself still enthroned. The Prince rubbed at his eyes with wrinkled hands. How long had he been asleep? It was still light, though the coolness of the air and the dimming of the sun suggested it was almost dusk. The children had stopped playing, taken away to be fed and clothed by the nurses. It bemused him that they did not wake him. He had dreamt of walking, running, riding. Oberyn and he, racing up the Greenblood. It was hard to tell if it was a dream or a memory. Elia was there, too, but he could not recall her face, being only a nameless shape he recognised as his sister from another lifetime. One that existed before grief, fire, and blood.

"A letter for you, my prince, from your daughter. Came a few hours ago."

Whispered Hotah, who loomed nearby like a sleepless shadow. The Norvoshi stepped forwards and pressing the parchment into Doran's open palms.

"You did not wake me."

Doran complained, stifling a yawn. The Norvoshi inclined his head by way of an apology. Hotah had already removed the wax seal, as he always did.



It confirmed Doran's existing suspicions. After reading it twice, he passed it to Hotah.

"Burn it."

Wordlessly, Hotah carried out his task. The Prince was left with a few moments to his own thoughts. It answered some questions, but posed many more. Why had Varys suddenly reappeared, at the side of his supposed nephew? Would he have not turned to Dorne, had he known for certain that Elia's son survived in the east? Doran expected his daughter had the same misgivings, or else she would have not been so cautious in her advice. With Arianne in Storm's End and Nymeria in King's Landing, he would have to wait for a clearer picture of the situation from his niece.

It took several days for Edric, his aunt, Obara, and others to return to Sunspear, bringing the heads of Swann and Darkstar. Preserved within closed boxes and necessary minerals, the heads were carried into the keep of House Martell. Gerold's head was carried by a retainer of House Dayne while one of Obara's men, or Obara herself, brought the head of Ser Swann. Once an audience was granted, all gathered before the old snake, Doran Martell. Edric and Allyria knelt before their Prince.

My Prince.

My Prince.

They say in unison before Edric gestures to his retainer who brings the head of Gerold forward. The box is opened to reveal the severed head of the traitor.

As promised, my Prince. Gerold Darkstar has been brought to justice.

Lord Dayne speaks.

Allyria was pleased to hear of these rights being granted to her nephew. The cadet branch of House Dayne was now in shambles and it would be up to Edric to rebuild the family. Lord Dayne listened attentively to the Prince Martell, only speaking when the Prince had finished.

I thank you, Prince Martell, for these confirmations. House Dayne owes much to you and your ancestors.

Edric spoke, having rehearsed what was to be said.

As for my banners, I have already sent the men and so I will ride to join the others you have gathered.

Lord Dayne accepts this opportunity, willingly.

I only need to return to my home, gather my sellswords, and ensure all is properly arranged during my absence.

Allyria could see the eagerness in her nephew's words, but she could not let him go off without marrying first. Edric's name had to be known for his role in bringing Gerold to justice, a name that would certainly make him an attractive bachelor to the ladies of Dorne. However, before the thought could turn into words, Lord Dayne spoke further.

My Prince... if I may, I would like to speak further. In private, if possible. There is something I feel you should know.

Edric knew he would take these words to the grave, but after what he witnessed in the Riverlands, Doran, above all others, needed to know.

My Prince, as you know, I left Dorne under the mentorship of Ser Beric Dondarrion, my aunt's betrothed.

A good knight, a good man.

The story turns into me following him, into the Riverlands, to bring the Mountain and his men to justice. We were ambushed, Ser Dondarrion fell, and many of those sent were slaughtered. I pulled the knight from the river and watched as the battle went on... but... that was not his fate. A red priest, with us, administrated a 'last kiss' and, unexpectedly, Ser Dondarrion was brought back from the dead.

Lord Dayne, when he says this part, keeps his gaze firmly on the Prince Martell.

Prince Martell, when I was in the Riverlands for those two years, I saw Beric die and be revived seven times over. Magic I have never seen before.

Edric continues speaking.

I met Arya Stark, I met Ser Gendry, I knew people who are likely proclaimed dead by the Seven Kingdoms.

Lord Dayne exhales deeply.

I left when Ser Dondarrion died for the seventh and last time... and when she took over. The Hangwoman, Lady Stoneheart... Catelyn Tully.

Edric pauses, knowing these words sounded mad, but these were the truth!

She was a dead woman, My Prince, but she is back from the dead somehow. Her skin is soft and colored like curdled milk. Her face covered with scratch marks and a slit is at her throat. Ser Dondarrion's revivals were one thing, but her? I felt something that I didn't want to feel so I left and thus I returned home.

Lord Dayne falls silent afterward. He wanted Prince Martell to know that there were darker forces at work, forces that were supernatural and unreal. All had to be careful.

A raven from Highgarden: