GOT: Reborn as a Martell

( Arianne )

The Water Gardens truly were an otherworldly place. At times, it felt like it was the beating heart of Dorne, where everyone would meet, laugh and enjoy themselves. At others, it felt like a path to escape reality as there were only the birds, the sound of water dripping in the pools, and the different trees and plants surrounding her, trapping her in a place locked from the outside world.

This was one such occasion, but she was not the only one that was enjoying the comfortable silence.

"You're leaving, then?" Arianne asked gently, falling into her comfortable chair, brushing her hair aside, as she bent forwards to take a bite out of a grape laying on the plate of fruit on the table in front of them.

Quentyn was sitting opposite her, his hair slightly dishevelled, and his face as calm and stern as ever. Yet, Arianne could feel that something wasn't completely right with his brother. He looked lost, solemn even.

How could he be so solemn when he had everything he asked for?

Dorne was in the palm of his hand. He had eliminated the last of his enemies, and his rule would now be close to uncontested. There were no more obstacles. He had, for all intents and purposes, beaten her.

Then why did he look like a lost puppy?

Time flew by and her brother still hadn't answered the question.

She looked into his dark brown eyes, that mirrored hers almost exactly. But it was a lost cause. Her brother's eyes were void and sullen, and seem to trap any emotions from flowing out of his body.

She spoke again.

"Something wrong?"

This time her brother reacted by swiftly darting his head upwards, as if he was waking up from a dream, and looked perplexingly at her.

"No." He shook his head, trying to put his hair back into place as he brought a hand to his own curls, attempting to keep his dark coloured hair from falling into his eyes. "I was just thinking. Thinking about a lot of things."

"You think too much." Arianne scoffed, taking several grapes in her hands, enjoying the sweet flavour left on her tongue with every bite. "You should just enjoy the moment. Take a break from…whatever you are doing."

Quentyn stared at her for a little while, his scar endlessly mocking her, a stark reminder of when she had lost Dorne, and the consequences her brother paid for her recklessness.

He straightened up in his own chair and looked at the plate of fruit, observing each and every one of the many options before him. Still, he ignored the colourful and oddly-shaped ones, and went for a peach; feeling it in his hands as he picked it up and taking a bite out of it.

Juice spilled from Quentyn's mouth as he closed his eyes for a split moment and took time to appreciate the taste.

"Maybe I should." He finally said. "But I cannot do that right now. Not when the future of our house is at stake."

"You sound so ominous." She laughed. "Let them fight over their precious throne. We shall pick up the pieces."

Quentyn scoffed.

"That's exactly what father is planning to do." He shook his head. "Do nothing and wait. But wait for what? For a young girl to magically find her way from Vaes Dothrak to Westeros. With what army? What treasury? What fleet?"

"You have any better ideas?"

"Yes. We move in right now." Quentyn aggressively took a bite from his peach and continued. "Father keeps talking on and on about his so-called agents that can bring the last Targaryen out of her Dothraki cage. Why hasn't that happened? What is he waiting for? For her to magically hatch dragons and fly her way here?

Quentyn burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"Waiting is not a bad option." He continued. "But waiting while we do nothing is not an option at all. If father has a plan, he better put it into motion fast, lest the victors end up dictating the terms on us before we've even bloodied our blades."

"Better to let our enemies bloody their blades between them."

"I thought we were all for justice?"

"Vengeance."

"Fine. Justice or vengeance, it matters little. What matters is that the Lannisters may very well be defeated by our opponents, and for all of uncle Oberyn's talk about how he wants to kill the Mountain himself, we might not get the chance if our other enemies do it for us!" Quentyn sighed deeply. 

"Everyone talks about justice and vengeance on those who wronged us. 

But what will happen if those who wronged us are killed? Do we declare our vengeance satisfied and kneel to those who killed them? Or do we extend our vengeance to everyone who knew those who wronged us? If we are to obtain justice and vengeance, we must move soon, or else it will be stolen from us."

"You may be right." Arianne admitted, not knowing what to say. "But father has decided otherwise."

"Our dear father is starting to make me go mad." Quentyn took a glass of wine and downed it in a single gulp, making a face as he did so. It wasn't a secret that her brother disliked the taste of spirits. "Wait for this. Wait for that. 

Wait for something that may never happen. Just go get Daenerys Targaryen and bring her here if you can, for heaven's sake."

"You're making quite the fuss for someone who told me that we needed to be patient a few moons ago." She teased.

"I said that we didn't need to be reckless." Her brother clarified. "I said that it was unwise to rush ourselves into any offensive action. But if our offensive action is methodically planned so as to leave no doubt of our victory, then why shouldn't we? But as it stands, we aren't even planning. 

Father might send a few symbolic hosts to guard the Boneway and the Prince's Pass, but nothing will be done until some form of godly intervention comes our way. I truly do not understand him."

Arianne chuckled.

"Who does?" she smiled, bringing a cup of wine to her lips while Quentyn returned to his solemn self.

"I don't get why father is so intent on sending me to the negotiating table with the Tyrells and Renly Baratheon." Quentyn silently raged. "There would be so many different ways of doing this, but father wants me to make time. Time for what? And how?"

"You're smart, you'll figure something out." Arianne felt herself losing control over her emotions.

Was he actually complaining that he was going to escape the gilded prison that was Dorne? She could hardly believe it. After all, he was always talking about exploring the world, from the Summer Isles to Yi-Ti, and now that there was an opportunity to do just that, he wasn't in the mood to take it? He had to be jesting.

"Figure what?" he asked. "Should I just arrive to their negotiations and say.

"Hello everyone, we're actually not interested in any of you but if you could wait a few more moons to kill off your enemies because we need time to prepare for our fancy Targaryen restoration that would be great. Deal? Deal." 

I just do not get what I can bring them to stall any longer than expected. Maybe play on internal dissensions, but that is a stretch, and I'd need to figure them out, which would take time. Father is setting me up to fail. And whilst I fail, there are many things that would require my attention in Dorne which I cannot influence."

"If it is any consolation to you, I am to go to Highgarden to meet my betrothed and do exactly the same thing." She sarcastically answered him. "Be glad that you still have your freedom, for mine will not last much longer."

"My freedom…" Quentyn laughed. "Right now, it is the last thing I need. In fact, I will need a marriage soon."

"You? Marry?" Arianne raised an eyebrow. "I thought you very much liked your present situation."

"I do." He nodded back, his voice cracking ever so slightly. "I would keep this for as long as I could, if I could. But the reality is that I need to be wed soon and have an heir or heiress to confirm my position as heir. As long as I do not have this, my position will always be contested."

This was interesting. Was Quentyn really that insecure about his position? In which case there was a possibility…maybe…to turn the tides back into her favor? No, she banished such thoughts from her head once again. She knew what her brother was insinuating, and she would not consider such an option.

"Marry? But who?" she asked instead. "You said that you did not wish to marry any Yronwoods or Fowlers. This reduces options, and you know that you may not marry Nym either."

"I know…" Quentyn sighed. "Maybe in another world Nym could have been legitimized as the daughter of the Old Blood of Volantis, tying us to the Free Cities, but this is not the world we live in. 

I considered several options. Delilah Fowler was one, but would not be well-recieved by Yronwood - or any Dornish houses for that matter. Myria Jordayne and Samira Jordayne are both gorgeous, but since our grandfather already was from that house, any match wouldn't have been well received either. 

This doesn't leave many options. Lina or Sylva Uller would've been possible once, but not anymore, and Jynessa Blackmont is already betrothed. This really only leaves Valena Toland, who is of a respected Salty Dornish house, has ties to the Stony Dornish houses, to the Stormlands and to the Free Cities, and is of age to birth an heir. 

This combined with the fact that I have good relations with her and House Toland make it the better match for me. But father won't hear of it."

"And she's pretty with that bright red hair of hers." Arianne teased her brother, who rolled his eyes. "Is she good in bed as well?"

"Pretty and smart. And yes." Quentyn's cheeks turned ever so slightly red in colour. "But that is hardly what matters to me. What matters to me is elsewhere."

"You're scared of losing Nym." She replied sympathetically.

Arianne knew that Quentyn wouldn't ever admit to loving his cousin. She didn't know whether it was because he thought it was a sign of weakness, because he knew that their love could never be, or even gods forbid he was dumb enough to think Nym did not return it. In a sense, she was jealous of Quentyn for knowing what love is.

Arianne had never loved anyone. She had cared about people. She had felt things particular things about others. 

But it was never love. It was driven by pleasure, lust, ambition or self-fulfilment, but never love. She came close with Daemon, but her relationship with him was more of a friend she could confide in, not someone she'd imagine spending the rest of her days with.

Could she ever love Willas Tyrell like her brother loved her own cousin, she asked herself? It was frightening not to know. Both her father and uncle had told them that sometimes, you learn to love the people you are with, like her grandparents had, but even this was fickle hope. She knew nothing of the heir to Highgarden, and he knew nothing of her. Could they make it work?

"Mayhaps." Quentyn finally replied, scared to admit the terrible truth. "Mayhaps I am scared of not returning a love that someone gives me if my heart is spoken for someone else."

Talking about yourself through a supposition, it was some progress.

"Your wife wouldn't frown on paramours."

"Mayhaps. But I would." Quentyn shrugged. "It wouldn't be fair to her. It would be the most selfish thing I could do. I don't know. There might still be time to think about these things."

"Time…" Arianne mused. "Count yourself lucky, for I have no time. In a few moons, I shall go to Highgarden and meet the Tyrell boy. And then time shall have run out."

"Not necessarily."

"What do you mean?"

"Your mission to Highgarden is only to get acquainted with Willas Tyrell, is it not?" Quentyn smiled. "There is no marriage contract set up, yet."

"And pray tell, brother, what better option is there than the heir to Highgarden?" she hissed back. "Or have you changed your mind about Robb Stark?"

"I haven't changed my mind." He reached into the pouch in his shirt, searching for a paper. "Read this."

Arianne took the sheet of paper, which had been folded into smaller parts, and slowly began to read its contents. As soon as she read the first words, she frowned, as the words on that piece of paper went on, that frown turned to surprise and confusion.

"You're insane." She finally let out after needing to take her breath for a moment, slowly handing the sheet back to her brother.

"I'm just letting you know that this possibility exists."

"That's…not…no." Arianne stuttered.

"You're the one who seems to die inside every time I mention Willas Tyrell." Quentyn shrugged. "If the Tyrell heir is to your liking, then by all means marry him. I won't stand in the way of your happiness. But if you should find yourself unhappy, then stall for a few moons."

"There is no guarantee…"

"None whatsoever, thanks to father."

"You're madder than he is."

"Possibly."

"How?"

Quentyn shrugged and rose from his seat, taking another peach with him and taking a large bite.

"I just wanted you to know that the possibility existed before I left and you were aware of the facts." He pointed out; his mouth full with the fruit. "To let you know that the option of you remaining a princess exists, however fickle of a hope it is."

Arianne stared at him, nodding weakly, not believing for a second that any of it would happen and watched as Quentyn made to leave. Her brother was soon to be gone, towards the Reach, while she would soon follow in his footsteps, but towards another prize.

It's funny, how I hated when he came, and I'll hate him because he's going away.

"Quentyn." Arianne suddenly rose and caught up to him. "I never told you that I was sorry."

Arianne brought her fingers towards her brother's facial scar, outlining it with her touch as a lone tear went down her cheek.

"Well, now is as good of a time as any." She smiled as she hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry, Quent."

Quentyn returned the hug and brought her close, forming a tight embrace as they locked eyes. Her brother brushed her hair and planted a kiss on her forehead.

"I'm sure you will do fine in Highgarden, Ari." He smiled, breaking the embrace. "We'll meet again soon, I promise."

"I'm not as strong as you think." She confessed.

"I disagree." He smiled back. "You're a viper. Vipers hide amongst the gardens and know exactly when to strike and when to stay hidden. I think you're going to be just fine."

"I hope so too." She nodded, watching her brother slowly leave the gardens. Suddenly, she shook her head and shouted out.

"How big of a chance?"

Quentyn turned around and look thoughtful for a moment.

"Close to none." He answered truthfully. "But close to none is better than none at all."

And with that, he was gone.

And Arianne never felt so alone.

=========================

AN : To answer The most repeated question, I decided to put a note :)

Why would the Tyrells want a marriage alliance with the Martells?

So, right now the plan for the Tyrells is really simple: Margaery wants to become Queen. For now, their chips are with Renly, but that could surely change.

First, let's talk about Arianne and Willas. They're similar in age, and could be a decent match. Doran has done a good deal of camouflaging what happened in Dorne, and the whole thing was chalked up officially to "Quentyn is more competent, so we need to find a match for Arianne."

Now, what does Dorne bring?

Well first of all, an alliance with Dorne will guarantee they don't get backstabbed or raided, which is honestly quite a bargain. This allows to free Tyrell troops which would have been positionned on the border with Dorne and allow them to go somewhere else.

Second of all, and something which only has been hinted at in the last chapters, but Dorne is rich. Very rich. Certainly not in terms of hard cash. 

The Lannisters are the richest house in terms of gold and assets, but the Martells are certainly on par in pure value of what they can bring, and this brings us to something else: debt.

Debt in the 7K is something that is overlooked in a lot of fanfics, mostly because it's really absent from the North. But debt is a real thing, and the Crown and a lot of lords are terribly in debt, something Baelish has done a wonderful job to camouflage to get favours from a lot of people. 

However, when lords take out debts, they do so because they are throwing a party or organizing a banquet (the Tourney of Harrenhal basically bankrupted House Whent for example).

Dorne doesn't have a standing debt (or very little). Why? Because they've invested it. Invested it into infrastructure, ships, medicine, hospitals. 

A lot of what you saw in previous chapters is a large investment from House Martell and its vassals, and it is paying up big time notably because of the value of the riches they get from it (spices, tea, perfumes, potions etc). 

They no longer need to spend money to trade with Yi-Ti and other far away places if they can grow the riches there, and control the market well-enough that they are common in Dorne, but extremely valuable elsewhere.

Now this brings us back to debt. The Tyrells are likely very much in debt, just because they have appearances to keep up with as Lords Paramount of the Reach, and they will need some influx of cash to pay these debts back to their debitors.

Now, they have an extremely valuable resource: grain. A lot of the power the Tyrells managed to gain in canon was trading it to the capital, managing to basically make the crown's finances and well-being no longer dependent on the Lannisters, but the Tyrells. 

If they can get the Martells to trade luxury goods with them, this means that they could increase the standing of their house even further (see, we're rich enough that we can buy Dornish stuff in large quantities) or Arianne just brings a dowry that allows them to stabilize their finances without needing the Iron Throne to throw money at them.

Which would drastically increase their power and maybe push them over the Lannisters in terms of richest house of the Kingdoms.

The Tyrells can trade something Dorne needs (grain, Quentyn hasn't found a magical solution to make wheat grow in the Desert, and half of the grain Dorne has is imported from Myr, Pentos, the Reach and Braavos), in exchange for something they want (gold, glass, perfumes, tea, silk, medicine, luxury goods...)

There's a lot of things Dorne can bring for very little cost to the Tyrells

I hope this note answers all of you doubts.