Chapter Text
The Doe And The Stag
Chapter 1
The Betrothal
Jon Arryn and Stannis Baratheon were not a welcomed presence in Dorne. When their ships arrived, they were treated with respect. But the way the Dornishmen's dark eyes followed them, it felt as though they were entering a pit of snakes.
This is Robert's battle, thought Stannis. Robert was not a man of political strategy. He was born for battle. It was why he had left the peacemaking's for Jon Arryn, now the Hand of the King. They were delivering the bones of Doran Martell's uncle, Lewyn, a member of the Kingsguard who had died at the Battle of the Trident.
Jon asked Stannis to accompany him to Dorne hoping that the Dornishmen would accept it as a sign of respect to host the king's own brother. Deep down, they both silently knew that only justice for Elia and her children would appease them.
Jon bore no love for Stannis and Stannis the same for him. Stannis only did his duty to his brother and now king.
The men were both shocked when they found Oberyn sitting beside Doran in the throne room. The Red Viper's dark eyes sharpened like a snake ready to strike. Jon had warned Stannis that there had been talks of Oberyn raising Dorne for Prince Viserys Targaryen. There were rumours that ravens flew, and riders rode of secret messages.
Doran sat upon the seat engraved with the Martell spear signet and Oberyn leaned back in the twin seat engraved with the blazing Rhoynish sun. The same symbol that had flown from the masts of Nymeria's ships. They walked across the pale marble floor. The colours from the stained-glass windows danced on their skin. The round throne room looked most glorious at that time of day, mid-morning where the sun cast a rainbow spotlight.
"Lord Jon and Lord Stannis," greeted Doran. "Thank you for returning the bones of Prince Lewyn personally."
"And what of Elia's?" Asked Oberyn, dark eyes narrowing between the two men.
"Princess Elia was the wife of Prince Rheagar and was cremated as per Targaryen traditions," answered Jon.
The two Martells exchanged looks. They were not satisfied. Rumours had spread to Dorne of the gruesome fate of Elia and her children at the vicious cruelty of Tywin Lannister's dog. They had heard she had been raped before her skull was crushed. They suspected the true reason in her cremation was to hide evidence of the atrocity.
"News of how they died have reached as far as Dorne," said Oberyn, watching their faces carefully.
"Rumours," dismissed Jon sternly, not wanting to discuss the matter further.
Both Stannis and Jon noticed that Oberyn dare not name the dog's name. They knew the man was playing dumb. For if he had outwardly named the man, he would be making a powerful enemy of Tywin Lannister. Now that the Lannisters were tied to the Baratheons through marriage who had the strength of the rest of the six kingdoms, Dorne simply would not have the power to fight.
Jon had seen many atrocities during times of war. But none as sickening as the bodies presented by Tywin to Robert. The bodies were so bloodied, Tywin had wrapped them in crimson cloaks to hide all the blood. Ned Stark was disgusted, viewing it as murder. Robert labelled them 'dragonspawn.' It had broken Jon's heart that he was not able to calm the argument that followed. They were like sons to him, and it was like watching two brothers fight.
Justice was not something Jon could give. He was only the Hand and even his power had its limits. Tywin was an arrogant man and despite not truly caring for the fate of his men, would never give Clegane up to satisfy the Martells. Nor could Robert command for Tywin to do so. It was the Lannisters who had done the dirty work to win his throne. Jon never foresaw that the Baratheon-Lannister marriage agreement was also a deal with the devil.
"I was under the impression that you were here to make peace. Not spit in our faces," snapped Oberyn.
The tension was so thick in the room, one would need a Valyrian steel blade to cut through.
"We intend to do nothing of the sort," replied Jon.
"Intend not to insult us or not to make peace?" Said Oberyn, face hardening.
"We seek for peace," said Jon, calmly closing his eyes. He would not let the Red Viper temper him. Oberyn was known for his searing tongue, but Jon was an older man of great patience.
"And the only way for that is to start with justice," growled Oberyn.
Jon was left with one option he knew that could remedy the situation.
"We must unite the kingdoms," said Jon and looked to Doran. "You have daughter a year older than Robert and Stannis' young brother, Renly, Lord of the Stormlands. I propose a betrothal for them to wed when they are of age."
"No," said Doran, shaking his head. Arianne was secretly already arranged to Viserys when she came of age. But Doran could not let Jon or Stannis know. "Arianne is my heir. Unless you agree for Renly to abdicate his lordship and lands to serve as Prince Consort."
Doran knew that they would refuse, but Stannis turned to Jon hoping he would agree. The Stormlands were by rights his, but Robert had passed him and given him Dragonstone. All because he had not arrived at Dragonstone soon enough to capture Rhaegar's siblings. He had barely recovered from a siege before he left for the assault. Robert had blamed him for letting the Targaryen children escape. Stannis could have easily argued that Ned Stark should have arrived sooner to lift the siege at Storm's End. But Robert would never turn on his beloved Ned Stark. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and ground his teeth.
Stannis had taken it as a slight. Little did he know it was because Robert needed someone strong enough to hold the Targaryen ancestral stronghold should Prince Viserys rise against the crown.
Jon could speak to Robert to permit Renly to keep his lands, but there would still be much red tape to cut through. If Arianne and Renly were to have only one heir, they would hold both Dorne and the Stormlands. Too much power held by one person would anger the other lords. Jon dismissed Arianne completely thereafter.
"Then what of your younger daughter?" Asked Jon.
Doran slumped back in his chair thoughtfully. He had intended Myriah to become the heir to Dorne once Arianne was Queen. But they needed to show their loyalty until such time. His eyes fell upon Stannis. He was the Master of Ships which could work in their favour once Viserys gathered an army in Essos. He would have to go against his own brother and king, but once Myriah reached of age and gave him children then there was a chance to sway his loyalties…
Doran's lips curled into a crooked smile at the idea of Robert's own brother betraying him. He would need to mould Myriah into the perfect proxy. He would shape her fit to rule Dorne and have his wife teach her how to capture a man's heart as she had done with his. He would use Stannis to put Viserys on the throne with Arianne as his queen.
"We will only accept a betrothal between Princess Myriah if it is with Lord Stannis," said Doran.
Everyone was taken aback. Doran would share his plans with Oberyn later. Stannis brows raised crinkling his forehead.
"She is a child," hissed Oberyn at his brother.
"She will wed him when she reaches of age of course," said Doran. "As it stands, Lord Stannis is the king's heir," he smirked.
"Until such time the king has children," added Jon sternly.
Jon and Stannis did not appreciate the jest, knowing Doran meant it as insult that Robert should die before he has children. And if by chance he did, it would also work in Dorne's favour.
It did not worry Jon, knowing full well Robert was more than capable of fathering children having already fathered one in the Vale.
"Until such time," repeated Doran, nodding and smiling.
Jon turned to Stannis uncertainly. Jon intended for Stannis to marry a Florent to strengthen the relationship with the Reach, but it more important to appease the Martells.
"Lysa and I have an age gap. It was formed to create an alliance with the North and the Riverlands. This age gap would not be as large."
"If this will unite the Kingdoms, then I shall do my duty," nodded Stannis.
"Perfect!" Grinned Doran, clapping his hands. "I will have Maester Caleotte draft up the agreement and tonight we shall feast to celebrate!"
Oberyn was not happy. His nostrils flared with fury. He was protective that his niece was marrying a man significantly older and the usurper's brother. That was until Jon and Stannis left the room for Doran to disclose his plan. But the Red Viper still held his doubts.
"Lady Mellario will not be happy," said Oberyn.
"It is better she marries Stannis instead of Renly. Renly is just a boy. Stannis proved himself at Storm's End. He can protect her," said Doran.
"You are using your own daughter."
"How is it any different of me wedding Arianne to Prince Viserys?" Said Doran, drinking from his cup of wine to celebrate.
Oberyn narrowed his eyes into slits. "He is the usurper's own brother."
"It will be fitting to have his own brother betray him," replied Doran.
"At what cost?" Oberyn shook his head. "Arianne, perhaps I could agree with. She shows ambition and strength. But Myriah… she is a sweet child. She reminds me a lot of Elia."
"Her innocence is like any other child's," dismissed Doran. "Train her in strength as you do with your own daughters. Teach her how to use a weapon so she can fight for herself."
"I would be happy to do so, but there will be a day where she might have to betray her own husband. It will crush her," said Oberyn.
"Not unless she seduces Stannis, which she will, I am sure of it," said Doran.
"But will she want to do so?" Asked Oberyn.
"She is a Martell. Unbowed, unbent, unbroken."
The feast was lively and vivacious. Celebrations in Dorne were unlike no other in all the Seven Kingdoms. Everyone drank to their hearts content of the sour Dornish red wines. Music played and the women danced to strings of the harp provocatively.
Upon the dais sat Oberyn, Doran, Stannis and Jon with empty seats beside them for more people to come. Lady Mellario had entered escorted by the broad-shouldered white-haired guard Areo Hotah. Mellario held the hands of toddlers that was Quentyn and her daughter Myriah. Arianne was by her sister's side, curly dark hair bouncing in the air as she glimpsed around the hall excitedly. She caught sight of their father and Stannis and nudged her younger sister giggling. Myriah's cheeks flushed red and dropped her eyes to the floor.
Lady Mellario presented the children before the dais but shot her husband a glare of daggers. She was not happy about the arrangement but knew to maintain her image as a lady before the lords.
Myriah was different to her siblings with softer facial features, olive skin and long straight dark hair. She was chubbier than her sister, with round pink plump cheeks. Her black eyes were big and round, resembling that of doe's.
She glanced up at her mother and asked, "is that to be my husband?" Her mother nodded her head in response. "Th-Then I should like to sit with him."
Before her mother could argue, Jon had moved a seat down for the child.
"I want to sit next to Myriah," said Arianne to their mother.
"No, you will sit with your brother and I," said Mellario.
Areo escorted Myriah around the dais and on the other side of Jon. Myriah scrambled to climb onto her chair, her long orange dress making it difficult for her to reach the seat with her knee. Jon chuckled and lifted the girl by the waist and sat her on the chair.
I'm to marry a child, thought Stannis bitterly. A further slight that was of his own doing. He would be sure to talk with Robert again into giving him Storm's End for this.
"Thank you, my lord," said Myriah.
"My pleasure, princess," said Jon.
Myriah was nervous and fidgeted with the light samite fabric of her dress.
"My father tells me you are a commendable soldier, my lord," said Myriah. She gazed up at him and saw his face gaunt. He was tall and broad shoulder but slender. He did not look like a warrior.
"Although he may not look it right now, I can assure you that he is," said Jon as if reading her mind. But her doubt had been written on her face when she had scrunched her nose. "He held a great siege at Storm's End for almost a year."
"Is that so?" Asked Myriah in awe, staring up at Stannis with wide eyes.
"Yes. Lord Mace Tyrell's forces descended on Storm's End with the Reach's host," said Jon.
Myriah's face grimaced at the sound of Tyrell. The Reach were an ancient enemy of Dorne. "The Reach," she spat.
Stannis was taken aback by the child's behaviour while Jon laughed.
"I see you and Lord Stannis will get along then," chuckled Jon.
"Do not tell a child tales of war," said Stannis, glaring at Jon.
Her doe eyes flickered up between the two. "But I want to hear more!" She said eagerly.
"It is not befitting for a princess," said Stannis.
Myriah gaped her mouth ready to argue until she caught his eyes. They were a dark shade of blue like the ocean at night.
Suddenly Myriah felt her chair being tugged and she was lifted from her chair. She was being held by her uncle and met his sharp dark eyes. He grinned, pinching her cheek which she promptly slapped away. He threw his head back with laughter.
"Come dance with me child! Your favourite song is playing," said Oberyn.
"A bear there was, a bear, a bear!" Sung the musician. The hall erupted with drunken voices enthusiastically singing along.
Myriah hesitated. "M-My place is here with my betrothed," blushed Myriah.
"I see she is already taken with you," chuckled Oberyn to Stannis. Stannis remained impervious to the news.
"It would not be appropriate for me to dance with other men unless my lord approves," said Myriah firmly.
"Septa Lanna would be pleased to hear you using your lessons in courtesy," smiled Oberyn, holding her chin and staring into her eyes. "Such kind eyes. Like a little doe. It is fitting that you are to marry a Baratheon."
"I'm not a doe," frowned Myriah. "I am as fierce as Princess Nymeria."
"You certainly are my little doe," teased Oberyn, tilting her head from side to side much to her chagrin. "Would you honour me if your lord consents?"
She nodded her head.
"The princess can dance with whomever she pleases," said Stannis, not even bothering to look back and wanting to be rid of the girl.
Myriah did not notice Stannis' facial expression and turned to her uncle grinning, singing along to the words of the song that was playing. "The bear! The bear!"