GOT : All Left Behind

"Clever girl," I said, marching off with the child in tow. Father would want to see me, that I knew. And Father would be in the Small Council chambers, in Maegor's Holdfast. A bit of a walk, but manageable. "While this is the safest place for you to be, it is by no means safe."

For whatever reason, however, the child seemed hesitant to accept my wisdom, but it mattered little.

...

I guided us through the Red Keep, past courtiers with their endless questions, and past beautiful tapestries displaying the myriad triumphs of my family. Through empty halls we went until we reached the chambers of the Small Council.

My father was a man of habit. He liked to train in the mornings, liked to hold court as the day went on, and ended his day with the minutiae of actually managing the realm. There was only one place where that happened. And judging by the pair of knights on duty outside, it was easy to guess that I had been correct.

At my word, the child remained outside as the white knights held the door open for me.

"Ah, Vaegon!" Father was out of his seat before the door fell closed behind me. The marks of long weeks of grief were plain to see as he drew closer. His skin was pale, his eyes reddened with dark circles beneath, and his hair had lost even more of its former luster. "Dear boy!"

Even now, beset by age and grief, I could feel a ferocious strength in him as he wrapped me in an embrace. Relieved so see that my father was still alive and well, and not willing to be upstaged, I matched his embrace and added just a bit more pressure. For several moments, we simply held the embrace, until a cough reminded me of the room's other guests.

"My apologies, my lords," I said as my father and I broke off our embrace. "I have been too long from court. The formalities have slipped my mind."

"Think nothing of it, Your Grace," Septon Barth said warmly from his customary position to the left of the king's chair. However, mother's seat to the king's right was conspicuously empty.

"Given recent events, such a lapse is more than understandable." From the far side of the table, Lord Redwyne echoed his fellow councilor's opinion. His sentiments, however, seemed just a touch less sympathetic. Had something happened? Or more likely, had he done something foolish? No matter, a question for later.

"Bah, enough of that!" Father declared, striding to the head to the table and leaving me to stand at the foot. Still, it gave me a few moments to study the map which was spread out across the table's surface. Highly detailed, it noted rivers, settlements, holdings, lords, vassals, and exported goods for the entire kingdom of Dorne. At least, the kingdom that had once been Dorne. "Tell me, how did your adventures in Dorne go? I trust everything went as planned?"

"Mostly," I said, earning a few appreciative noises, some less tasteful in their opinion of Dorne than others. Lord Tyrell, however, looked concerned. No doubt he had expected me to complete every objective I had set for myself. "Starfall remains in Martell hands, but the Prince's Pass and the Boneway are under Yronwood control and independent from Sunspear. House Wyl has been cut off from the rest of Dorne. Aemon and Alyssa should be able to complete their task fairly easily."

Approving sounds filled the chamber as Father gave the map a closer look.

"Your Grace, I told you she did not go far," Septon Barth said reassuringly, earning a questioning look from me. Had Alyssa not told Father where she was heading? Did her need for vengeance still burn so brightly?

I should not have left so swiftly.

I should have stayed, to help however I could.

"That does not change the fact that she should be resting here with the children," Father commented, not taking his eyes off the map, not speaking for several moments more. "What of Starfall? I thought your plan was to take it, too."

"King Yronwood lacks the men," I revealed. "The campaign for Fowler lands was costly. Instead, he intends to focus on consolidating his new holdings and preparing for a Martell counterattack."

"If House Dayne marshals its might, it could easily shatter an exhausted Yronwood realm," Lord Tyrell warned, his voice beginning to betray some semblance of alarm. "What troops can we send?"

"What do we have?" Elysar asked, shuffling through a stack of parchments no doubt fresh from the legs of ravens. "The armies of the Westerlands, Riverlands, Vale, and North are still gathering. The men of the Crownlands will be departing for Sunspear in a few weeks' time… Is the Reach ready? No, of course not…"

"The armies of the Reach have barely even begun assembling, and the Stormlands are busy in Wyl territory…" Lord Tyrell said, exasperation clear in his voice. Stroking his beard, it was clear that he was mulling over some plan, and the chamber waited for him to speak. "The Ironborn, mayhaps? They should be on their way already. How far along the coast are they?"

"House Dayne will not be an issue," I said, drawing the looted blade and tossing it onto the table. Eyes went wide at the sight of the weapon, and more than one of the attending lords let out a gasp. It was a storied blade weapon, after all, legendary to any Westerosi who loved stories of knights, and there was only one way a man such as I could have acquired it. "I suspect they are busy trying to find their next lord."

"Potential claimants?" Father asked, and it was the Grand Maester who spoke next.

"Uller, Fowler, and Dalt have all had Dayne marriages in living memory," Elysar answered after a long moment of concentrated thinking. "House Dayne of High Hermitage has more distant ties, but the right name, and only serves to complicate matters. Starfall will not be a threat for some time."

"There is… one small detail," I mentioned. At the sudden shift in my tone, and the hesitancy in my words, Father's attention rapidly whirled on me, his face all but demanding I elaborate. "We have the true heir." I turned to the closed door and prepared to shout at the Kingsguard stationed outside. "Bring her in!"

On cue, the door opened and the small girl I had abducted was pushed through.

Danelle Dayne.

To say the girl was scared was an understatement. Her eyes were wide, her body hunched over to try and make herself as small as possible. But even those were subtle hints compared to the rest of her. No, compared to all of her.

Even now, keeping still, the girl trembled mightily, like a starving man's limbs as they tried to lift a begging bowl.

Look upon what you brought to this world, Vaegon.

"Lady Danelle Dayne, rightful lady of Starfall and master of the Torrentine," I said, fighting to keep my tone neutral. Some of me wanted to be grandiose, to announce this scared child whose family I murdered in some sort of penance. "And unbeknownst to the realm at large, still alive."

"And unbeknownst to the realm, she shall remain," Father declared.

"For now," I agreed. "When the time comes, we can restore her to her rightful seat."

Father did not respond immediately.

"How much did Aemon tell you?" he asked after a brief pause.

"Only that you wish to break Dorne into a hundred kingdoms," I answered, my confusion starting to build. That had been mere exaggeration, had it not? A figure of speech inspired by mourning rage? "And that prisoners would be required for it."

"A simple explanation, but fundamentally correct," he said. Before continuing he gestured to the map. The map with every land-holding house in Dorne clearly marked, I realized. "This is the future of Dorne you see here, and it will take every man and woman of status in Dorne either dead or in chains. Preferably the latter. We will not be restoring the Lady Dayne to her seat, now or later, because there will be no seat to restore her to."

Clever. No Dorne, no unified Dornish effort. With only one small problem.

"What of King Yronwood?" I asked, my confusion now solidly on its way to becoming concern. After all the effort I had put in to create a halfway viable buffer state between my home and a hostile neighbor, would this be how it was destroyed? "He is an enemy of Martell and a willing ally to me. His son is a personal friend. This would betray their trust."

"Rest assured, your efforts in Dorne will not have been made in vain. House Yronwood shall be the exception to the rule," Father allowed. "Now tell me: how much of House Dayne's lands have you burned?"

"Only Starfall."

Only the home of the innocent family of a not-so-innocent lord. And his many servants and guards, all equally innocent. All gone, reduced to ruin and ashes in a single vengeance-fueled night.

"Then they remain a threat," Father sighed.

No.

No no no.

Please, not again.

Beside me, the child began to tremble even more.

"Father…" I began cautiously, wanting to protest, wanting to make my distaste known.

"You will head to the Arbor," Father continued, not letting me continue. "Once the Ironborn fleet arrives, you will take command of it and attack the lands around Starfall. Capture what nobles you can. Send the lords and knights to the Arbor, the heirs to Oldtown." At this, Father's gaze swept to the little girl whose hereditary lands he just ordered razed, his eyes as cold and hard as iron.

This was a man who saw his son murdered before his eyes. A cowering girl would have no mercy. No, it was more than that. She was Dornish. Father would rather twist the knife than pull it free. "Burn everything else. Once you finish with Dayne lands, proceed east along the coast after that until you reach the Plankytown or you reach friendly forces with new instructions."

"That is…" I tried to speak, only for words to fail me. It would be brutal. Bloody. It would take months to pick the land clean of all the men and women needed, would stain hands for decades, and inspire enmities for centuries. And that was without considering the fact that it would be the Ironborn that did it. Restraint was not a term that applied to their way of war.

But it could work, if only by tearing the teeth out of the Dornish threat.

Needless brutality for the sake of vengeance in the name of peace.

The very idea sickened me.

"I ask a lot of you son, I know," Father spoke, walking closer to put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. There was a clear glimmer of faith and pride in his eyes, hidden by the signs of grief and exhaustion. "But there are few men that I can rely on. And I know you can handle it."

And there it was. Asking me to prove myself up to the expectations of others. Appealing to my pride.

I needed to see Maegelle.

She would know. When had she not?

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