Game of Thrones: Paladin of Old Gods

POV: Doran Martell;

In the most secure room of the Royal Palace of Sunspear.

An hour before the banquet was to begin...

"Prince Doran, please stand up...

I assure you that this is unnecessary...I..." Said an eleven-year-old boy to a man afflicted with gout, both knees on the ground and his face covered in tears.

"It is not Prince Doran who is kneeling to you, Lord Duncan...

The man at your feet now is just a poor sick old man full of gratitude for the person who saved his family from a horrible fate...

This is nothing...nothing...sigh...please accept this pathetic gesture as a small compensation for a debt that can never be repaid..." Doran Martell said, clasping the boy's hands with his own as he kept his head bowed to the floor.

Oberyn stood a few steps away from them in silence, he too was charged with similar emotions, but he had already burst into tears and venting by the time they had reached the antechamber and no one could witness it.

"If these are the words of a brother and uncle who cares about his family...then I accept the gesture with gratitude.

Now, however, I would like to speak with Prince Doran of House Martell.

The man who is charged with protecting the legacy of a house has never bowed to anyone.

Please, Protector of Dorne, rise.

I know very well that you are in tremendous physical pain right now." The boy helped the man up, and Doran accepted the offered help.

"Thank you...thank you, Lord Duncan..." Doran returned to his seat.

It took him a few more minutes before he found his composure.

After a while, Doran spoke again...

"Lord Duncan, please tell me how House Martell and House Targaryen can repay this enormous debt.

Just say the word, my lord. We'll make sure we do the rest, I swear it." Said Doran in a calmer, more rational tone.

"...Dorne will have a chance to repay that debt, Prince Doran.

However, I would like to make one thing very clear before we begin...

I did not help you because I am loyal to House Targaryen, Prince Doran, and Prince Oberyn...

I only saw in advance what might happen to a mother and two children, and I chose to intervene.

I assure you, if you had not respected the clause in the message or offered aid to the people of Naath, we would not be having this conversation today." Both Doran and Oberyn nodded silently at those words.

"Lord Duncan, may I ask if you have had...' any other visions' concerning the fate of Elijah, Aegon, and Rhaenys?" Oberyn asked, taking a step forward.

"No, Prince Oberyn...I'm sorry.

I cannot control this ''gift'' at will.

Once I have changed the fate of an event, I have never had visions concerning that new changed event again...

It's quite complicated to explain..." Said the boy scratching his head, showing a helpless and embarrassed look...

"That said, I can tell you that I know what is going to happen in many other events.

Events that will affect all of us...

We can prepare for the coming storm, changing course, lowering sails, avoiding obstacles...but the relentless current will always drag the ship in that direction, we can't stop the ship from going there, we can only stop it from sinking so we can save the crew that rules it." After those words, Doran intervened.

"Are you talking about the fate of all the Seven Kingdoms?" The man asked with a puzzled look.

"Of the world Prince Doran...or rather of all its inhabitants.

I do not wish to go into specifics now, not least because I would have no way of proving my words.

But in the next fifteen years, the world will face two of the greatest catastrophes history has ever seen...

What I seek from House Martell is a worthy ally.

An ally to help me save as many people as possible from these catastrophes.

We're not talking about the fate of a dynasty, but the fate of mankind.

Before you answer me, Prince Doran...

I would like you and Prince Oberyn to promise me two things." Hearing those words, Oberyn reached his brother's side and exchanged a look of mutual understanding with him.

"We will listen to your requests with the utmost care and seriousness, Lord Duncan," Doran said in a serious tone.

The boy nodded before continuing to speak.

"The first...

Whatever I say to you from this point on will have to remain between us.

If, after explaining the framework of the situation, you choose not to be my ally, House Martell must at the very least maintain a state of absolute neutrality.

You will not use this information to pursue an agenda that would benefit Dorne. In that case, I would consider you my enemy, and I would come down on you with all means at my disposal.

The second...

You will only agree to follow me in this fight after you have heard all the information I will dispose of.

Do not accept lightly, and weigh all the risks, pros, and cons carefully.

I cannot guarantee that Dorne will not suffer a terrible fate or that House Martell will continue to exist should you choose to travel 'that road' by my side."

Doran replied after a few seconds.

"We accept these conditions.

I, Doran Nymeros Martell, Lord of Sunspear and Prince of Dorne, swear to you, Duncan of House Tallhart, here, now, and forever that House Martell will abide by your terms.

I swear it by all that I hold most dear in this world, may the Gods and Men be my witnesses and may I be damned for eternity, should I ever fail in my oath." When he had finished reciting his oath, it was Oberyn's turn.

After Oberyn finished speaking, Bloody Snow began to explain to the two men in front of him, all the information he had chosen to reveal to his possible future allies.

About twenty minutes later...

Doran and Oberyn looked astonished, full of astonishment, disbelief, fear, distrust, and uncertainty.

The boy in front of them had only explained what could happen in the next ten years by explaining, ''Who'' will be the enemy they will face and, ''What'', they will have to face.

After a few seconds, Bloody Snow finished his sermon.

Doran turned towards his brother.

''Oberyn...the citadel...

You said..." Doran didn't know how to continue.

"I knew the Archmaester could not be trusted...but at this level...

No brother I had no idea, and I'm afraid...

I only know a few of their 'weapons' that they might use...

Conspiring all this time against House Targaryen...if this is true, a snake more poisonous, more hidden, and more dangerous than 1,000 Red Vipers dwells in Old City and every castle in Westeros." Oberyn shuddered at that thought then thought back to another dangerous enemy and asked:

"Do you want to go against the Iron Bank?"

"Of course I don't.

I would much rather be able to avoid facing the true Titan of Braavos.

The gods only know, how much gold and what kind of treasures they keep in those crypts.

It's not clear to me yet how many branches they have, I know for a fact that destroying the headquarters in Braavos won't be enough...

However, it will be the Iron Bank that will move against me and my House first.

This information is already confirmed through my network of spies.

I can't avoid a problem, if the problem itself comes looking for me, Titan or not the Iron Bank will get its due.

If after some skirmishing, they choose negotiation, we can coexist. If not, it will be a battle to the last drop of blood and ounce of gold." Bloody Snow explained.

Doran pondered carefully. He would not be worthy to sit on the throne of Dorne if he did not...

The fate of his people would change with every choice he made...

He had to figure out which one was the best, without being influenced by personal motives...

After a few minutes, Doran asked:

"Can we win?...

Answer with raw and bitter honesty, Duncan of House Tallhart." Doran.

"...Honestly?

I don't know.

The possibility exists... but I can't estimate the chances of victory... not yet at least.

Know in any case, that I will fight this war even with the certainty of losing it.

It is not too late for House Martell to back down and stay out of such a conflict.

Naath will be a safe place for many decades, even centuries with the right precautions." Doran stared intently into the boy's eyes for a few seconds, then sought his brother's advice.

"The choice is yours, Doran...

Don't let your bloodthirsty crazy brother influence you.

I will follow and respect my Prince's will to the end." Oberyn said in a serious tone trying to hide his fearless adventurer nature as much as possible.

Doran remained silent for several minutes...

He thought and weighed every possibility, trying as hard as he could to find a way to avoid that crossroads...

Even just postponing it would have been a victory...but he wasn't going to do it, not this time.

At least this one was due...

He was already aware of the answer he would give.

A part of him had already decided several minutes before...

Doran grabbed the arms of the chairs with both hands and pulled himself to his feet. His sore, swollen knees roared in response to their owner's thoughtless gesture.

The man managed to withstand the pain and maintained a dignified and authoritative appearance.

"Duncan of House Tallhart...

What you are about to face is beyond the reach of any House in Westeros.

The conflict to come will bring death and pain to thousands...

From what I can see, the odds are not in your favor.

May my people and my ancestors forgive me for the choice I'm about to make.

You could prevail and gain prosperity, peace, and infinite possibilities in this world... or unnecessary suffering, pain, chaos, despair, and misery, without being able to move a single cog in this wheel that governs us and drags us all along...

Whatever fate awaits you..,

Dorne will share it with you.

End POV.

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POV: Oberyn Martell;

Sunspear.

Two days after an alliance was made.

House Martell had bled itself dry, amid parties and celebrations.

After Oberyn had heard his brother Doran's answer, he considered Duncan and his family, part of his family.

All 350 men of his escort and the staff that made up his retinue in Sunspear had been invited to the palace and considered guests of honor.

Before Oberyn granted Bloody Snow's last request, he basked again in the thought of the events and challenges that were to come in the coming years.

Never before had he felt so alive and full of adrenaline.

It had been two days and two nights since he had been able to stop smiling.

Now another exciting challenge was in front of him.

A friendly sparring match with the Legendary Bloody Snow...

Both sides were facing each other, wielding only a shield and a blunt spear.

His daughter Obara, still recovering from the course of events, had just been knocked down a dozen times by the boy and those two Unsullied-non-eunuchs who followed him wherever he went.

If every member of that unit was truly the equal of Divisional Commander Gellert or his Deputy William, the Prince of Dorne knew with certainty that three hundred of those men would prevail in a fight against a thousand veteran spears of Dorne.

"I know you held back against Obara...

Don't do it against me, Bloody Snow." Oberyn.

"I will only do so if you swear to me that that blunted spear, is not poisoned, Red Viper." Bloody Snow.

"Ahahahah! You'll never know!" The Red Viper.

Bloody Snow charged forward with his guard up.

He cleaved an initial blow like a whip towards Oberyn's left leg, which he dodged by leaping to his opponent's right side.

The Red Viper tried a shot from above but the two rods crossed in mid-air and there, Oberyn noticed an unnatural twisting of the body...

Duncan was attempted to hit Oberyn in the face with a roundhouse kick...

"Fuuu!" The kick cleaved the air...he had missed the target by only a millimeter.

Oberyn stepped back...

"What the heck kind of movement was that?

Are you a Lys contortionist?" Oberyn asked instinctively.

"No, fortunately for me I am not.

Might I ask how you managed to dodge it?" Bloody Snow.

"By constantly getting kicked in the face by Lys's whores." Replied The Red Viper wryly.

They both laughed at the exchange of banter.

"My turn boy, get ready. "Duncan nodded and raised his guard.

Oberyn charged forward with a series of precise, focused lunges to the elbow and exposed knees...

Duncan dodged and parried each lunge.

He tried to strike back, but the Red Viper retreated an instant sooner after each lunge. Just like a snake bite.

The exchange lasted another five minutes before the sparring's first blow had landed.

Oberyn had managed to unbalance and land the boy, who got up with a backward pirouette a moment later...

This took Oberyn by surprise...

Duncan swept across the ground with his shaft and Oberyn was knocked down.

The Sand Snakes, watching from a corner with other spectators, were shocked and admired by this exchange...

About six hours later...

"Are you sure you want to leave Sunspear already?" Oberyn asked with a slight tone of sadness to the boy about to board the ship.

"I wouldn't want to leave these sun-kissed lands, Prince Oberyn...

But all this hospitality is making me uncomfortable...and frankly, I would like to get some distance from your niece Arianne and daughter Tyene...

I am forced to flee and try to save the resources of the people of Dorne." Duncan replied in a gentle, joking tone.

"Ahahahaha!

My daughter is pointing at you as if you were forbidden fruit.

Are you sure you don't want to try everything Dorne has to offer?

I had my first sweet experience at your age boy." Oberyn asked with an amused and mischievous look.

"NO, thank you...

I would like to keep my ' Eleven-year-old' innocence for a while longer.

Thank for me all the young maidens of Sunspear for their 'kindness', 'thoughtfulness' and 'friendliness'..." Duncan.

"Arianne, she swears she was lost that night and drank too much Dorne red..." Oberyn tried one last time to tease the boy.

"But that doesn't justify why Tyene was with her in my chambers late at night too!!! " He shot out indignantly at the boy who was visibly blushing.

"You landed her father in front of her, Bloody Snow...

"That's the price of fame. Ahahahaha!" Oberyn let out a big, fat laugh. He was having too much fun teasing perhaps 'Bloody Snow's only weakness. After a few seconds, he regained his composure...

"Changing the subject, will Dorne be able to deliver the first shipment of sand to Bear Island on time?" Duncan.

"The Mormonts will have those fifty tons within the next two moons. House Martell gives you his word." Oberyn promised in a serious tone.

"And the North gives you theirs, that Dorne will suffer no more thirst and hunger in the next two years.

As for the production of ice and ice cream, we should be able to build the factories within the next six moons at the latest." Promised Duncan in the same tone of voice.

"We look forward to it...

My concubine Ellaria, is nagging me about wanting to travel to the lands of House Tallhart as soon as possible. Once tasted, it is hard to find a better dessert here in Dorne.

We'll meet again at the tournament, brother.

Safe journey.

Give my respects and greetings to the future Lord of Barrowton."

End POV.

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POV: A woman who keeps her promises.

Barrowton.

Three days after three galleys and two merchant ships set sail from Sunspear for Bear Island...

More than four years had passed since that meeting which radically changed Lady Barbrey Dustin's life.

Due to the unforeseen problems in construction and planning over the last few years and the harsh winter last year, both the Widow of Barrowton and Bloody Snow agreed to postpone the fateful meeting with the 'candidate' she was to meet...

For Lady Dustin, it was just another item on her busy agenda to be cleared.

She just wanted to get rid of that burden as soon as possible.

Although she had been shaken and affected by the events of that tournament, after working hard for the next three years, Barbrey had decided that there would be no more room for futile things like ''love''...Only power and influence could be under her tight control...

And she was good at maintaining that control...

Soon, few in Essos and Westeros would dare to disparage or offend lightly, Lady Barbery Dustin.

Lady of Barrowton, protector of House Dustin lands and future High Executive of the Never Winter Bank.

Within a year, they would announce to the world the opening of this new institution...

Preparations were almost complete.

The Northern lands were full of mismanaged gold accumulated who knows where.

'The first woman in history to hold such a position...' Lady Barbery thought every morning, to spur her body and mind and face the day loaded with commitments and duties to the best of her ability.

"My Lady, the lookout spotted thirty horsemen and a carriage less than a mile from Barrowton." An attendant in the service of House Dustin reported.

'Let the gates of Barrwonhall be opened and bread and salt offered to our guests.

I will await 'the guest of honor' here in the hall." Barbery ordered.

"Yes, my Lady." The attendant.

About twenty minutes later...

the hall doors opened and a man entered...

A man, unarmed, dressed in aristocratic robes made mainly of leather and wool, just over thirty-five years of age, with a weathered but gentle gaze, well-groomed hair that hid a slight onset of baldness, slim and toned body, and a face that expressed awe, happiness, and expectation.

"Lord Jorah...Why are you here?" The man was overwhelmed by this first question.

Both the man and the woman had a petrified look on their faces and their bodies were stiff as a statue due to the unfolding of the unexpected events.

After a few seconds of silence, Jorah recovered and made a bow, saying:

"Lady Barbrey, thank you for your invitation here to Barrowton. I am pleased and honored to meet you again after all this time...I...hope I am not inconveniencing you, my lady." Barbrey awoke from her astonished and shocked state when he heard those words.

"I...

Forgive me, my lord. I do not believe I invited you here to Barrowton..." The gears in Lady Dustin's head began to turn again.

Hundreds of words, events, and images surfaced... and took shape, connecting.

Lady Dustin, unable to stop the shaking...

The trembling from the rage and fury she felt for two individuals.

Lord Jorah was more bewildered than before...

The poor man had no idea what was going through the mind of that woman in front of him...

A woman who was spewing fury and hatred from every pore of her skin...

"You!...WERE IN ACCORDANCE WITH HIM, MY LORD?

All this time you've done nothing but mock me?

All those events at the tournament...Were they all planned?!

Answer me Lord Jorah!" Roared Lady Dustin with a voice full of hatred and resentment.

The woman felt offended and mocked, now more than ever...

Ever since that day when Ned Stark told her in the person of her William's death, Lady Dustin had vowed to herself that never again would she be struck where she was most vulnerable.

She would never again allow that opening in her defenses to anyone.

And now, she had just been thrown from her horse again in that spot. Every essence of her screamed 'Revenge'.

Jorah remained silent, his face more confused than ever.

He had no idea what Lady Barbrey was talking about...

After a few seconds, Jorah took courage and said:

"Lady Barbery, I swear I don't know what you're talking about...

If I have offended you in any way, I beg your pardon, my lady.

I had no intention of harming you in any way." Said Jorah, bowing.

Barbrey has slapped again.

She did not know what to think, she only knew that Lord Jorah's behavior and words seemed sincere in her eyes.

Trying to remain calm, Lady Dustin asked:

"Why have you come to Barrowton, my lord?"

"Because three weeks ago I received your invitation by missive my lady. The emissary bore the symbols of your House and on the letter was engraved your seal..." Jorah.

Barbrey was shocked by his response.

About a year ago, Barbrey had stopped corresponding with the man.

She had made a harsh decision and written to her would-be Knight, that she would not be able to keep her promise made that day at the tournament...

She had even returned the 'crown of beauty' and sent a promise to pay 100,000 golden dragons, to try to compensate, at least in part, the offense she had caused the poor man...

No reply was received from Barrowton after that message...

Lady Dustin thought the man was heartbroken and did not want to hear from her again...

She had suffered secretly for months after sending that emissary... that emissary who never returned...

'THE DAMNED FROST BLADES!!!

That's why Blades 1, 2, and 3 disappeared two days ago!

YOU DAMN BASTARD! YOU WILL PAY HARD!' Lady Barbrey clenched her fists as hard as she could as she began to tremble with rage again.

"Lady Barbrey...are you well, my lady?

Do you wish me to leave?

I don't want to bother you any more than I have to...I" Jorah was interrupted.

"No, my lord...

I apologize, for my behavior...and my lack of respect for your person...

I have falsely accused you of matters for which you are not to blame.

Please, my lord. Could we pretend that the 'events of the last few minutes never happened?" Lady Dustin asked, slapping herself inwardly for the umpteenth time and recovering the poise every lady should display.

"Of course, my lady...

I do not know what 'events' you are referring to." Lord Jorah replied in a gentle tone making a small sigh of tranquility within himself.

"Thank you, my lord.

Please take a seat, I will have my servants bring food and drink immediately." Lady Dustin greeted her guest with kindness and cordiality.

A few minutes later...

"I have brought a small gift for you, my lady...

A foreigner visiting my lands has advised and instructed me for such a gift...

I hope you will enjoy it." Said Jorah, handing over a small box of fine Damewood.

"Thank you, my lord...truly there was no need.

I...I am ashamed to say that I have not prepared any gifts for you..." As he said this, Barbrey opened the box.

A pendant was inside, a pendant with a peculiar shape and material...It looked like...Valyrian steel.

A bear on one side and a maiden on the other.

A clear reference to {The Bear and the Maiden Fair}.

The first song that accompanied their first dance together...

"Beautiful, my lord...I" Although the item was made of Valyrian Steel, the shape of the figures...was a bit rough and unkempt...

"I apologize for the rough shape of the symbols...I drew them myself...it was the stranger from the free city of Qohor who created them, following the drawings exactly...

I assure you that I practiced a lot... but I'm afraid I couldn't do better.

In any case, I wanted to contribute this gift in person.

Here if you would move these two bows like this..." Jorah gently activated a small interlocking mechanism...

The two bow-shaped symbols joined together in the shape of a heart...

"... Your gift is most welcome, my lord.

Thank you for it...

How may I return the gesture?" Lady Dustin asked, trying with all her might to maintain a demeanor.

"...There is something I would like to ask you, my lady.

If it's not too much trouble for you since the day is beautiful and clear, would you like to ride together and be my guide through your lands?

This is the first time I have ever visited Barrowton and I would like to see it."

That evening after dinner...

"I assure you, my lady...

My father still has a scar on his arm.

That was the time I learned firsthand why you should never approach a bear cub with its mother within arm's length.

I always feared that if I ever had an heir...my son or daughter would be born with my father's handprint on their buttocks." Lord Jorah recounted as he finished his third cup of the wine of the day.

"Ahahahaha! Please my lord stop, I can't contain myself.

Stop here! hahaha." Lady Barbrey laughed for the umpteenth time during this very pleasant evening that had just passed.

She and Jorah had spent an entire day riding and talking, telling each other all the past events of their youth while politely glossing over the more tragic ones.

Lord Jorah had suffered too, she knew that well...

"My lady, with your permission, I would like to retire to my chambers.

For me, three cups of wine are far too much...I do not wish to risk embarrassing my House any more than I have to.

I thank you for a beautiful day." Lord Jorah said, politely rising from the table still filled with food and drink.

The hour was late. Without realizing it, the pair spent four hours in frivolous and jovial chatter.

"You are dismissed, Lord Jorah.

Thank you for your pleasant company...

Good night, my lord." Lady Dustin said, rising and bowing as per etiquette.

"Good night, my lady."

About an hour later...

Lady Dustin was in her bedroom.

She was carefully brushing her hair in front of a mirror without getting any help from any handmaidens...

She had just taken a hot bath with her favorite soap...

When she had finished arranging her loose hair, she reached for a wooden box.

She put on the pendant she had received as a gift that morning, carefully stroking the heart-shaped metal with her fingers... then got up from her chair.

Before opening the doors of her room and heading for the rooms that did not belong to her, Lady Barbrey Dustin grunted in a low voice:

"Bloody puppet master..."