Wolf Among the Roses

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(Circa 289AC)

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“How are you doing, young one?” A now familiar voice asked from my right, and I turned to see Ser Baelor Hightower standing beside me. His armour shone resplendently in the sun, the engravings on the chest plate and pauldrons glittering from the gems inlaid into it. While the armour seemed gaudy, after spending time in Oldtown as, along with my family, guests of House Hightower, I doubted this was anywhere close to Baelor’s most decorative armour. Nor was it merely for show.

While I knew little about how armour was forged, nothing hinted that the armour he was currently wearing couldn’t do its job if push came to shove. Though I doubted the long silk cloak emblazoned in his house colours would be anything but an impediment in combat.

“I’m well, my lord,” I replied showing him the respect he expected due to our differences in rank, “though I’ll admit that spending days in a saddle is becoming both boring and painful.”

Baelor gave a deep, booming laugh at that. “Aye, it can be. But spending all this time in the saddle now will serve you well when you’re older. And if Gods forbid, you ever need to ride into battle then all this time spent in a saddle now may well save your life.”

“Aye, my lord,” I replied with a lowering of my head.

Seemingly content with our conversation, Baelor gave his horse a squeeze and it trotted forward. Likely he was returning to the head of the column, though I suspected he’d stop at the carriages in front of me. In the lead carriage his wife, Rhonda Rowan, was travelling with my mother, Arianne, Tyene and Sarella.

I’d bet a Gold Dragon that Sarella was neck-deep in a book, and a few Stags that Tyene was speaking with Lady Rhonda about something to do with the Faith of Seven. While all my family were followers of the main religion of Westeros, Tyene was the more devout. Thankfully though, she wasn’t a ‘bible-thumper’ otherwise I’d have long since taken to ignoring her as I did Septa Railey in Starfall.

As my arse complained once more about sitting in a saddle for the fourth day running, I felt jealous that Sarella had a book to distract her from the long, slow trek we were making to Highgarden which still had – according to Oberyn at breakfast this morning – at least three more days to go. We were heading to Highgarden – and had been doing so since we’d left Sunspear several moons ago – because there was to be a big tournament there in Lady Alerie Hightower’s name, which Oberyn planned to compete in.

Still, while I was currently annoyed about being stuck in a saddle for several more days, the long trip we’d made so far had, for the most part, been worth it. Initially, we’d stopped off in Starfall where I’d discovered I had a cousin. Edric Dayne had been born in our time away and was the new heir to Starfall, though that did little to limit Lady Joenne’s dislike for me. From there we’d sailed to Oldtown, which had been interesting.

While I had some interest in visiting the Citadel, my mother had forbidden it. According to Oberyn, she was scared the Maesters would kidnap me and force me to join their order. While I suspected he was half-joking, if the various Maesters I’d been taught by had sent ravens to the Citadel regarding me – unlikely, but possible – there might be a kernel of truth to his opinion. And frankly speaking, the idea of spending my life surrounded by cranky old men – with little access to women – arguing over science and technology that was centuries behind what I’d dealt with in my former life was about as appealing as becoming a eunuch. And that was saying nothing of the threat posed by the Others and whatever other threats – natural and supernatural – existed on Planetos.

Since I couldn’t visit it during our current trip, Oberyn had provided Sarella and me with some new books to read though I knew I’d have to return one day. I had no interest in joining the order, but since it was the primary – and basically only – source of knowledge in Westeros, I knew I’d want inside at some point if only to see what was hidden within its walls.

With the Citadel out, I’d spent almost all my time in Oldtown in the High Tower with House Hightower. The High Tower was, frankly, insane. It was easily taller than most buildings in my former life, bar skyscrapers and similarly tall buildings, and was accepted as the tallest building in Westeros, even taller than The Wall, though Casterly Rock and the Eyrie are said to be higher due to where they’re built. Which is, fucking insane.

Meeting House Hightower had been a strange thing. Baelor, along with the rest of his family, had been reluctant to speak with me initially. I suspected that might’ve been because I was a bastard and those weren’t looked on kindly in The Reach and the family were devout followers of the Seven, though any issues regarding it were avoided due to my parents (or step-parent in Oberyn’s case, though Westeros didn’t have such terms). Lord Leyton Hightower hadn’t ever deigned to speak directly with me, but Baelor and his brothers had slowly started to accept me. Now, that might’ve just been because Oberyn had taken me to the High Tower’s training yards each morning while we stayed there but I suspected it was more because I’d more than once been found in discussion with Maester Dantis about varying subjects at a level well above my age. There was also the fact that Arianne made sure that whenever I had time away from Oberyn, the Maester or his books, she had me accompanying her. However, that had caused issues with Baelor’s wife as Lady Rhonda disliked me doubly as I was both a bastard and an open follower of the Old Gods.

While she’d taken a slight liking to Tyene – over their shared religious devotion – she considered all us bastards beneath her. That made rather me glad that Ellaria had stayed in the Water Gardens with her daughters, Elia and Obella. I was certain that if Ellaria had come, she’d have long since caused a scene with Lady Rhonda before the welcoming feast was over. Ellaria’s ability to make impressively venomous barbs was on-par with Oberyn’s, as was her general distaste for any who felt a bastard was beneath another due simply to the status of their birth.

One interesting thing that I’d noticed about my mother was her behaviour around Obella. The way she doted on both the newborn and Elia and the less-than-subtle glances she gave Oberyn, left me in little doubt she wanted another child. That was something that I was ambivalent about. On one hand, the idea that I’d have a younger sibling to protect was interesting and worrying, since I knew what was coming in about a decade and a half. There was also the chance that them having a trueborn child would mean less time for me to spend with them. For my mother, that would likely mean more freedom, but with Oberyn it might mean less time under his tutelage in the yard.

Someone else that was feeling amorous was Obara. During the welcoming feast in the High Tower, she’d all but dragged Benjen onto the dance floor; then left arm-in-arm with him about an hour later. This was probably for the best as, if they’d acted on their feelings then and there it would’ve been a diplomatic disaster; even if it would’ve been amusing as fuck to see how everyone reacted. Since then, the pair had been open about how close they were, and I wondered if their closeness would be enough to stop Benjen from joining the Night’s Watch. Without Jon there to ally with the Wildlings – which I assumed he also did in the books – then Benjen joining the Watch was a certain death sentence and the loss of a very useful ally.

While that had been passing through my head since they’d made it official, the morning after the feast my attention had been on Oberyn. I’d been concerned that, for all his talk about his daughters being free to see who they liked, having Obara fuck Benjen might be a step too far. However, instead of being annoyed in any way he’d simply smirked and told Obara that it’d ‘taken her long enough’. Now there was a chance he was just keeping his feelings hidden about the relationship for Obara’s sake, but since he hadn’t made any subtle (or less-than-subtle) comments towards Benjen, I was beginning to think Oberyn was accepting of the relationship.

Still, if this relationship was serious, and it possibly was as Westeros wasn’t the place when relationships not leading to marriage were common, the ramifications could be massive.

A horn blowing drew my thought back to the present, and I saw the column hadn’t just stopped but that the foot soldiers with us had stopped and were fingering their weapons. A second horn blast had them starting to form up into a defensive line.

“Get to the carriages,” I turned to see Daemon riding towards me from the rear of the column. “I’ll guard you until we’re there then head to the prince.”

Understanding that twin horn blasts signalled danger, I coaxed my horse into a trot and followed him towards the carriages where the women and children were gathered. As he left, I had to slap down my anger at being left here while he rode off to fight.

I wasn’t quite seven – that would be next moon – and while I was outperforming boys twice my age in the training yard (or at least in the few drills I was allowed to participate in), I understood I’d be nothing but a hindrance in a real fight. All my experience of combat counted for nothing currently, and wouldn’t until I reached, at least, my teens.

As the Martell and Hightower guards formed defensive formations around the carriages, I slid off my horse, bottling my feelings about being inactive in a fight. All I could do was join my family in the carriage and hope this was a false alarm, or nothing more than a small group of bandits not realising they were attacking a major column.

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“I don’t know how you managed this my dear, but I’m impressed,” Oberyn commented as he leaned back and looked over his shoulder at his daughter.

I couldn’t see Obara’s face given I was sitting behind my mother and Obara was several seats to my right, but I knew she was smirking as she replied. “I have my ways, father. Benjen is… very skilled with a lance.” That drew a chuckle from Oberyn even as I ignored the less than subtle innuendo and turned my attention back to where we were.

In front of us – and I had to stand to see what was going on – was a very impressive jousting arena. While the far-side stands were made of wood that would likely be taken down after the tournament, along with the tilt barrier (a wooden fence that ran the length of the jousting arena and kept the horses from crashing into each other), the stand my family and I – and others from other noble houses – were being hosted in by the Tyrells were made of marble with silk cushions for us to sit on.

That Benjen was taking part in a joust was, well, shocking. From what he’d said, such things weren’t done often in the North; being seen as a frivolous waste of time and money. Yet, here he was taking part in such an event in the Reach; the very tournament we’d travelled to Highgarden for Oberyn to compete in.

“I’m still at a loss as to why a Stark has spent the last six years in Dorne,” Olenna Tyrells said from somewhere to my left. Oberyn was seated next to Mace (which just sounded like a bad idea all around) with their wives on either side of them. Arianne was seated behind Oberyn with the Tyrell children – running Garlan, Loras and Margery with Willas off readying himself for his match which would end the first day’s events. Oberyn’s opening match had taken place at the start of the day, and he’d easily won by unseating a travelling knight on their second tilt. On the far side of the Tyrells to the Martell party sat the major vassals of the Reach that were linked to the Tyrells via marriage while the Hightower party was to our right.

The fact that Willas Tyrell was competing in this joust – which was in honour of his mother’s three-and-thirtieth nameday – was a source of obvious conflict between Mace, his wife and mother. Mace, who wasn’t as fat as he’d been in the show, though we were still a decade away from those events, had convinced his son to compete in the joust even though Willas was still a squire for Randal Tarly. Lady Olenna was clearly quite furious about her grandson competing and it was likely only because I’d seen her and Mace in public that I hadn’t overheard her berating her son.

When I’d asked Oberyn about the situation last night, he’d explained that it was likely Olenna who had arranged for Willas to squire with Randal Tarly. Lord Tarly was the only one to defeat the Usurper during the Rebellion, but Mace took the credit so sending Willas to squire for Randal was a way to appease their vassal. Though Oberyn suspected that Willas competing as a squire was also against Randal’s wishes, meaning Mace had likely further damaged his relationship with one of his most powerful vassals.

“As we’ve already explained, my lady, Benjen is with us at the request of his brother, Lord Eddard Stark, to guard young Cregan,” my mother replied politely to Olenna. “When Lord Eddard returned Dawn to us and informed us of where my brother and the other members of the Kingsguard that died with him were, he wanted to take Cregan back to Winterfell. I refused but we agreed that Benjen, if he was willing, could travel south to watch over the boy for a while.” While most of the Tyrells and other Reach nobility had written me off once it was explained who I was, Olenna hadn’t. While I hadn’t been alone with her at any point, there’d been a few times since the welcoming feast where I’d seen her watching me. Perhaps she felt the story my mother and Benjen supplied was false – which it wasn’t, just omitting certain details about Ned’s visit to Starfall – or perhaps she wondered about the danger to the Reach of having a Stark, even a bastard one, being close to the ruling family of Dorne. Regardless, she was more interested in me than I would have liked.

“Once more I must express the thanks of my house to House Dayne and House Stark for the return of my great-uncle’s bones,” Baelor commented, which drew a nod from my mother.

“Yes, you, Ser Benjen and Prince Oberyn have all explained that already,” Olenna began, ignoring the comment by Baelor, to reply as I saw her lean her head forward to see both me and my mother, “however Cregan is, if you’ll forgive me, simply a bastard. He has no legal claim to Winterfell, even with his father having been the heir before Lord Eddard. For Ser Benjen to travel the length of Westeros, so soon after a war where the North fought against the Reach and Dorne,” She paused and shook her head. “It feels off.” I could see mother bristle and I suspected she wanted to retort, but Olenna kept going. “Now, I will grant you that, from what Ser Baelor and Maester Caddar have said about the boy, he is gifted much like young Loras, but I have to feel there is more to Lord Eddard’s motives than simple familial loyalty.”

“I too admit that I have wondered about Lord Eddard’s motives for sending his brother, and at the time heir, to Starfall,” Oberyn began, drawing Olenna’s attention to him and likely saving my mother from having to defend the arrangement she’d made with Ned once more. “Yet, if there is more to it, either Benjen is far more politically skilled than I give him credit for, or he is unaware of his brother’s motives.” Oberyn chuckled and looked to the far right, where Benjen was due to arrive in the arena. My uncle wasn’t present yet, but the joust was due to begin soon. “That said, while no match for myself, Benjen is a competent fighter; even if the Northern style he favours is not to my liking. Then again, it does hold appeal to many, does it not Obara?”

I heard Nymeria and Tyene chuckle while I saw Arianne move a hand to cover her mouth. A faint chuckle from beyond her suggested one of the Tyrell children understood the joke, but the target of the question stayed quiet. Though I suspected she was glaring daggers at her father. I also made no reaction to the comment as, under instruction from my mother and Oberyn, I was to hide just how socially aware I was. They were fine with me showing off in a learning or martial environment but wanted to keep that I was mature for my age a secret.

Obara didn’t respond to the barb, though the laugh she gave sounded a touch hollow and any further conversation was cut off by a horn being sounded.

All eyes around the arena turned to see the newest pair of jousters. When the name of the local knight was read out, there were a few cheers, and I recognized the house as being a fairly minor Reach one near the border with the Westerlands. However, when Benjen’s name was called out, a lull fell over the crowd as everyone turned to look at the Northman.

Benjen’s armour wasn’t as grand as Oberyn’s, though that was hardly a surprise. If Benjen hadn’t planned to compete until Obara convinced him recently, then the armour wouldn’t have been a custom job, but instead a set bought from a local armourer that while of good quality wasn’t anywhere on par with a suit designed specifically for him. Another thing that was clear was that Benjen wasn’t comfortable in the armour, or with his horse. He was fidgeting around more than I’d seen any other jouster move, though if it was the armour that was irritating him it would make sense. Benjen had mentioned more than once that Northern warriors didn’t normally wear the full heavy armour of a southern knight. It was too heavy, bulky and tiring to do so in the colder weather of the North so most preferred to not wear full plate.

“Five dragons on the wolf,” Oberyn called out firmly as the horses and riders were led to their starting positions. Several people were helping each rider, with Daemon helping the few warriors of House Stark that had come south with Benjen all those years ago.

“I’ll take that,” Mace called back. “Ser Rylon is young, but any Reach knight is better than a savage.” I bit my tongue to avoid retorting.

Thankfully any further comment from Mace was cut off by an elaborately dressed (in House Tyrell colours) man who stepped into the middle of the arena.

A hush fell over the crowd as he raised a simple red flag above his head. It fell, and the crowd erupted in a roar of delight as the two horses thundered towards each other. Their riders lowered their lances to strike as the roar and anticipation of the crowd grew as the distance between them shrunk.

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I closed the door to my mother’s room in Highgarden – one she shared with Oberyn – and turned to see her sitting on their bed. Beside her sat Arianne, whose smile threatened to break her face in half, and Tyene, who seemed to be trying very hard to not stay still. “You summoned me, mother?”

Mother’s smile grew to match Arianne’s for a moment before she schooled her features. “I did. Come, sit beside me,” she said, patting the bed next to her. As I approached, Tyene slid over to give me room. “How is your uncle Benjen doing?” She asked as I sat beside her. “Any complications from his joust?”

While the questions were valid, it was clear that they were simply a way for her to ease me into whatever it was she wished to truly speak about.

“He’s doing well. The armour held though he was sore once it was removed,” I replied slowly wondering just where this conversation was going to go. “The armour is fine so he can use it in his next joust, though Obara was being mindful of nuncle Benjen when I left.”

The two girls giggled at that, and the smile returned to my mother’s face, though far less dominantly than before. “I’m sure she’ll be more than capable of making sure he doesn’t injure himself before his next joust tomorrow.” She paused and glanced towards a window before continuing. “I was impressed with how he unseated Rylon Dunn. From the way Lady Alerie spoke of him, Ser Rylon is considered a decent jouster in the Reach with a few minor victories under his belt. To see him unseated by a Northern lord was a surprise for many.”

I shrugged as I responded. “Perhaps that’s because Reach knights care more about how shiny their armour is than learning the skills to back up their supposed ranks.” That drew some more laughter from the girls even as mother shook her head.

“Possibly, though perhaps you’ll keep such opinions to yourself.” She looked away once more and it became clear to me that she was conflicted about discussing the true reason for her summoning me. “Cregan, how do you feel about our family? I mean, the family we now have with House Martell.”

I felt the eyes of all three females on me as I replied. “Other than Prince Quentyn not being someone I get along with, meaning almost all my friends in Sunspear are girls, I’m happy.” I suspected I could see where this was going but didn’t want to jump the gun.

Mother glanced at Arianne before speaking once more. “Indeed.” Somehow, I suspected that if the princess and her cousin – and my goodsister – weren’t present I’d get a talk about how I had to be mindful of spending time around such an important young lady. I already understood the perceptions, but if people were concerned over our friendship, then they really needed better things to do with their time. Or she might want to give me another warning about my tendency to backtalk, though given the number of subtle comments used by Oberyn, his older daughters and Arianne, I’m not sure why she considered it an issue. And that was saying nothing of how much I was holding back on my normal snarky nature. “Do you know what our plans are once the joust is over?” she asked, rather abruptly changing the direction of the conversation.

“I was under the impression we’d be heading back to Dorne, possibly via land. Father’s opinions on the lords northward and eastward of the Red Mountains aren’t exactly favourable,” I answered, letting my amusement at Oberyn’s feelings about those who sided with the Usurper slide out. Going to the Westerlands, Stormlands or Crownlands was something that Oberyn wouldn’t want to do; not unless it was to gain revenge for those he blamed for Princess Elia’s and her children’s deaths. Though doing so would engulf the continent in another war, and as things stood, Dorne was never going to be powerful enough to go against the other regions, thus it was a good thing that Oberyn was able to focus his rage instead of rushing off and doing something foolish.

Mother’s smile returned, though this time it wasn’t as happy as before. “While his opinions do make travelling north of the Red Mountains an issue, thanks to some… persuasion from myself – along with a constant stream of questions by the princess in private – your father has been convinced that we won’t be returning directly to Dorne. Instead, we will sail north to Seaguard in the Riverlands. There we’ll either resupply our ship or arrange transport over the roads, but either way, we will continue northwards.” I was growing more excited as my mother spoke, and if Tyene’s hand coming to rest on mine was an indication, doing a damn poor job of controlling that excitement.

“I think Cregan has an idea of what you’re hinting at, Lady Ashara,” Tyene offered, making Arianne cough out a laugh.

Mother’s smile lost some of the concern it’d gained when I’d brought up Oberyn’s issues with being outside of Dorne. “I would be surprised if he hadn’t, Tyene. Still, as you’ve likely surmised, the plan is for us to travel into The North and visit Winterfell. Benjen has already sent a raven to Lord Eddard informing him of our plans.”

I felt the building excitement in me surge out as I realised that I’d get to see Winterfell in the flesh. While the castle in the show had been impressive, it paled when compared to Highgarden, Sunspear and even Starfall. If this Winterfell was similar to how it was described in the book, then it would be a truly massive and awe-inspiring sight. Then there was the chance to meet my cousins, Robb, Alysanne and Sansa. Perhaps Arya, but if she was around, she’d be a newborn at best.

There was also the chance that I could convince Oberyn to take me and a few others to the Wall. That would allow me to complete the easiest of my optional Objectives, plus allow me the chance to see it in person. The show had done a decent job with presenting the Wall, but I knew that to see it in person would be a million times more impressive.

However, once I was over my initial euphoria, something occurred to me, and I looked back at my mother. “What about Benjen? When we return to Dorne, will he come with us? And what about Obara?”

Mother’s smile twitched downward a touch at the corners of her lips while I saw Arianne’s shoulders slump. “IT is likely that your uncle will remain behind. The arrangement I reached with Lord Eddard was for Benjen to watch over you until your eighth nameday. Since I doubt we’ll be staying in the North for a year, I see no logic in Benjen returning south with us only to have to turn around and head back north a few months later.” She paused and glanced over me towards a large balcony from which one could see one of Highgarden’s many impressive rose gardens before continuing. “As for Obara,” she paused and sighed, “I cannot say. That is something they need to discuss privately.”

“Yes, mother,” I commented, letting her know I wouldn’t bother either of them about the subject; not unless they brought it up first.

With a lull in the conversation, I let my mind consider Benjen and the details of why he’d come to Dorne to watch over and train me. Whenever I’d asked him about it, he generally replied with the same quote (the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives) as his reasoning. I knew there was more to it, beyond what mother had just revealed about her agreement with Ned, but what exactly wasn’t something I was certain of. Perhaps Ned wanted to ensure my safety on the off chance that he and his children died, but then why would Benjen – the heir before Robb was born – be sent so far from home? Mayhaps I could ask Ned about it once we were in Winterfell, but even if I did, I doubted my uncle would reveal his reasons to me; certainly not while I was but a boy of seven.

“Are you going to tell him?” Arianne asked, which drew me from my musings to see her smirking at my mother. While Arianne was doing a good job of controlling her excitement about whatever else was to be discussed, Tyene wasn’t. I could feel the bed shift every time she moved, which was almost non-stop shuffling around as if she was ready to jump up and shout whatever she knew to the world.

“I was giving him time to process we’d be going to Winterfell, my dear,” mother replied to the princess before giving me her full attention. “However, since Arianne has yet to learn patience, I feel I must reveal the main reason for asking you to join us.” She began as I saw one of her hands gently rubbing her belly. The hand had been there since I’d entered but it was only the movement that now drew my attention to it, and set off a spark in my mind about what she was about to reveal. “As you know, I’ve been married to Oberyn now for…”

“You’re with child?” I blurted out, cutting her off whatever long-winded explanation she was likely about to use. By the way her brow shot up, and both girls laughed happily at my question, I was sure I’d guessed correctly.

“I… I may well be, yes,” mother said once she’d recovered from my interruption, and the girls had settled down. “I’ve missed my last moon blood, and if I miss the next in a handful of days, then it is likely I will be with child.” She finished slowly as her eyes searched mine for something. “How— are you okay with this?” She asked, likely taking my calm outward demeanour as a sign I wasn’t comfortable with the turn of events.

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“You’ve been married for two years, mother. Lady Ellaria has already given birth, and I saw how much you enjoyed helping her with young Obella and Elia so you wanting one of your own isn’t strange,” I replied, trying to make sure I didn’t sound too dispassionate about the matter.

“Y-you’re not concerned that I’d be replacing you with another child; one true born between myself and Oberyn?” Mother asked slowly as if she wasn’t sure about either the topic or the question itself. Or perhaps my apparent lack of emotional response.

I shrugged in reply. “Why would I be? Oberyn didn’t stop seeing Ellaria once he married you, nor does he treat any of his daughters badly because they’re baseborn nor look down on me for being your bastard with another man,” I explained slowly, feeling that I needed to detail why I was unconcerned by this development. I’d been expecting this since they’d married, and having been around Oberyn for two years now, felt I had a decent understanding of his personality. “Plus, I’ve been looking forward to a little brother or sister since you married him,” I added, which was true. I’d (mainly) enjoyed having a younger sister in my former life so having one here wasn’t something I was against. In fact, I quite liked the idea of someone to divert attention from me while I was doing things I’d rather not have my mother or others know about. Though the fact I’d have to teach and protect them in Westeros from all the dangers that existed in this world wasn’t encouraging.

It took some effort for me not to laugh at the look of shock on my mother’s face, though I failed to maintain my control as first Tyene then Arianne descended into fits of giggles.

“Does Oberyn know?” I asked, drawing a line under my reaction to her reveal.

“Not yet, no,” mother replied as she slowly got over her shock at my reaction. “I will tell him after the joust if I miss my second moon blood. You aren’t to mention this to him until after the tourney. If his mind is distracted during the jousts, accidents can happen.”

“Yes, mother,” I answered, fully understanding her concerns. Any soldier worrying about their new (or soon-to-be) born child was distracted in combat, and a potential problem to their unit. While a joust wasn’t pitched combat, it was still somewhere you could die if your mind wasn’t on the here and now. Something that was proven as, just on the opening day of the tournament, three knights had been injured. One suffering a broken collarbone if I guessed right while another had gotten the tip of a lance jammed in their armour. Another five riders had been unseated which couldn’t have been a pleasant experience.

I wondered if my mother had considered any names for her child but suspected she hadn’t. the infant mortality rate was high, to say nothing of the risks of miscarriages without access to modern medicine, so I doubted she’d do so – or allow Oberyn to do so – until much closer to the birth. Still, I couldn’t deny I was curious if the child would be named for a Dayne or a Martell; or if I’d have a younger brother or sister to look after.

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Two nights after my mother’s reveal that she was likely pregnant I was once more in her room. With us were Tyene and Nymeria and no one was anywhere close to happy this time. Almost as one, we looked towards the door as we heard it creak open to see Arianne step into the room.

Mother shifted around on her bed. “How is Willas?” she asked as only a gentle hand on her arm from Nymeria stopped her from standing. Though said hand had been there for about thirty minutes as the oldest Sand Snake present tried to keep my mother calm.

Arianne sighed before taking an offered glass of wine from Tyene and sinking into a lounge sofa beside her cousin. “My uncle is assisting the Maesters, though from what I’ve heard, Willas isn’t going to make a full recovery. Lady Olenna is… understandably upset about what’s happened but so far, thank the Gods, hasn’t allowed Lord Mace to carry out any of the outlandish threats he shot our way after the joust.” Arianne paused and took a sip of the wine, seemingly savouring the fluid as it soothed her throat. “Lady Olenna all but sent her son to bed without his supper for being more interested in retribution than the son he forced into the joust.” That brought a smile to her lips, though it was very weak. “Still, I fear that this accident will place a strain on the relationship between the Reach and Dorne.”

“Th-that is not unexpected,” mother began slowly as one hand subconsciously rubbed her belly. “If Willas had died from the fall, and with Oberyn’s reputation…” her words trailed off as my mind drifted back to earlier in the day.

During the quarterfinals of the joust (not that it was referred to as a semi-final but that’s what it was in my mind), Oberyn had been drawn against Willas Tyrell. The boy on the cusp of manhood had ridden well, skill and a dash of luck allowing him to reach the last eight, but it was clear even before the lots for that round were drawn that he was seriously out of his league. Hells, Willas was, outside of the fan favourite – likely so many could curry favour with the Tyrells, specifically Mace – lucky to have drawn Oberyn. Some of the other riders had been dismissive of the young Tyrell and likely would’ve enjoyed unseating the future Warden of the South. Of course, just because Willas drew Oberyn didn’t mean things had gone smoothly.

During the fourth tilt, with Oberyn comfortably ahead, Willas had overreached. However, from my memories, it was clear that in his eagerness to unseat Oberyn, he’d unbalanced himself allowing Oberyn to unseat him. That alone would’ve likely been enough to annoy Mace, but Willas’ foot had caught in his stirrup, and his horse had reared back from the sudden jerked, then fallen upon the young man’s legs.

Oberyn had been one of the first to reach the boy, moving impressively fast for someone in that type of armour, and even with Mace shouting for his guards to arrest – then execute – Oberyn, the prince had helped free Willas from under his horse. Not long after, as guards approached both Oberyn and the Martell party, Olenna had assumed control and demanded that everyone return to whence they came; with our party being escorted back to our rooms.

Oberyn had demanded to go with the Maesters to help, which Olenna had cautiously allowed before the rest of us were escorted, for our protection of course, to our rooms, and politely asked to remain in our wing of the castle. Sarella had been brought to join us, which was when we learnt that Obara and Benjen were with local healers. Apparently, Obara hadn’t taken kindly to being escorted to her room and started a scuffle with the guards, with Benjen joining in to help her. Neither were badly hurt, but from what the guards told us, they had a few cuts and scrapes that needed to be seen to.

It was at that point that Arianne, showing impressive political savvy for a young woman, had all but coerced the guards into taking her to speak with Lady Olenna. She’d left with the guards, who’d returned a little later on with our evening meal. Now, after what felt like several hours, she’d returned.

“Thankfully that won’t be the case,” Arianne replied to my mother’s concern. “Still, I suspect that we will be leaving Highgarden soon; several of the Reach lords and castle staff are even more distrustful of me than when we arrived. Though I am pleased to note that Ser Baelor Hightower spoke in our defence to Lord Mace.”

“Should we be concerned about Lord Mace outliving his mother?” Nymeria queried, drawing a shake of the head from my mother.

“No. I suspect that when Lady Olenna is close to death, she’ll find a way to have her son step down and allow Willas, or perhaps Garlan if the injury is serious enough, to become the new Warden of the South.” Mother explained slowly, only to sigh and let her shoulders slump. “However, I wouldn’t be surprised if Lady Olenna holds this over Dorne for the rest of her life. And that’s not considering how Willas and his siblings feel about today once they’re all adults.”

“I am hopeful your assessment is right, Lady Ashara,” Arianne said after handing her now empty glass to Tyene for a refill. “While the current… king might not care about a limited war between the Reach and Dorne, I suspect Jon Arryn would work to prevent it. From what my father said when the new Hand of the King came to Sunspear, Lord Arryn wants peace to reign across the Seven Kingdoms.”

While this talk was going on I was staying quiet. While I did have opinions on the matter, I felt it was better to stay silent. Everyone knew I was smart for my age – or those twice my age – but showing an understanding of politics when I’d never been coached on it outside of courtly courtesies, would raise eyebrows.

“And when Lord Arryn is dead? Do you think The Reach might try to gain approval from the Usurper to attack Dorne?” Nymeria asked.

Mother thought on the question for a moment, her hand continuing to rub her stomach before she replied. “Possibly. However, that is something better discussed with Prince Doran once we return to Sunspear.”

“Fucking politics,” Nymeria muttered before standing and moving towards the balcony.

“Should we be cautious about Lady Olenna moving against us?” Tyene asked as Arianne downed the second glass.

“No. The Reach lords place great importance on the concepts of chivalry,” mother began, “any move against any of our party, even his bastard daughters, while we’re inside the Reach would only draw suspicion on House Tyrell. Lady Olenna is far too cautious and intelligent to make such an open and dangerous move.”

“Agreed. I suspect she’ll work from the shadows once we’ve left the Reach. We’ll have to be on the lookout for assassins and other manners of threats once we leave the Reach,” Arianne paused and smirked. “Well, more so than usual.” She handed the glass to Tyene once more. “Even then, I doubt any attempt against us would take place for at least a few years. Any earlier and there will be whispers and accusations that the Tyrells were behind our untimely deaths. Any later, and the matter would reek of petty retaliation instead of valid vengeance.”

“Once we’re allowed to leave our rooms, I’ll offer a prayer to the Seven for Willas’ speedy and healthy recovery,” Tyene offered, making my stomach turn slightly. “Mayhaps Cregan could visit the Godswood and offer a similar prayer to the Old Gods.”

“There’s no weirwood tree here,” I commented as everyone involved in the conversation – Sarella had spent the last few hours with her head buried in books, which hadn’t changed with Arianne’s return – looked my way. “Plus, the Old Gods don’t work that way.”

“Still, it wouldn’t help to be seen doing so. I’ll join Tyene and her sisters in praying in the Sept. Your mother can escort you to the Godswood for you to pray there.” Arianne stated. I agreed with a slight nod which earned me a small smile.

“I’d suggest you all return to your rooms and try to get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a testing day and it wouldn’t do for any of us to embarrass ourselves or House Martell when dealing with the… resentment many will show towards us.” Mother stated as she stood slowly, her hand never leaving her belly. “That means you as well Sarella.” She added towards the youngest Sand Snake, drawing a roll of the eyes from the dark-skinned girl.

“Yes, mother,” Sarella drawled back, making me smirk. While Sarella didn’t care much for social niceties, preferring to read and learn instead, I’d discovered she had a budding sarcastic streak which I’d been doing my best to nurture.

Mother sighed and glanced my way, making it clear she blamed me for Sarella’s gradual evolution into a snarky monster. I merely smiled and bowed to her and Arianne before making my way toward the door.

As I washed and changed for bed, I let my mind wander regarding today’s events. Had Willas getting injured been something that happened in the books, or was it a result of my presence here? The Tyrells never appeared in the first book, and only Margery and Loras of the children appeared in the show. That had me once more cursing myself for not reading the books, however, there was no anger at myself over that. I’d been here long enough that I’d accepted, in hindsight, that I’d made a mistake in not reading all the published books, but that was now outside my control.

What was more relevant was how the other major players in Westeros – which to my knowledge at this moment, should just be Varys, Jon Arryn and Tywin Lannister – would react to hearing of today’s events. In their place, or at least Varys’ and Tywin’s, I’d try to use this to destabilize the Reach and Dorne, though those two would have very different reasons for doing so.

I sighed loudly as my head hit the pillow. Hopefully, I’d be able to get some sleep instead of trying to plan out how they, and others, could use today to their advantage. Or at least, it didn’t keep me up all night contemplating what I could do about it as I’d done the last few nights while thinking on how to use our trip to the North to my advantage.

Of course, there was the chance that because of today, that trip would be delayed, which would be absolutely fucking wonderful. Not.

… …

----------------------------------------

… …

I woke with a start, almost falling from my bunk as the ship we were on rocked violently to one side.

“Wh-what?” I groggily asked as I gripped the side of my bunk to stabilize myself and blinked rapidly to clear my sleepiness. Sounds of shouting reached my ears, but through the thick planks of the ship, I couldn’t make out what was being said.

“We’re under attack,” Benjen stated as I realised that he was hastily pulling his byrnie – a chainmail shirt – over his head. As I slid off my bunk in shock, he pulled the coif over his head. “When I leave, go to your mother’s cabin and stay there.” He ordered as he pushed the byrnie under his belt, which he then tightened.

Realising the seriousness of the situation, I picked up his scabbard and handed it to him. For a moment I wondered why he wasn’t pulling out his full armour from the chest, but then I remembered what Oberyn had once told me about fighting aboard a ship. While full or half plate offered the most protection, on a moving vessel, where the risk of falling into the sea was high, having armour that was too heavy and bulky meant the chance of death actually increased with one mistake or loss of footing.

I knew from my old life how difficult combat aboard a vessel was, and while assaulting a tanker to free it from terrorists was massively different from defending a cog from a pirate attack, the basic concerns about being knocked overboard were the same. Chainmail, while heavy, wasn’t as restricting and you could stay afloat while still offering good protection from most close-quarters attacks.

“Who’s attacking us?” I asked as he slid a helm on then took the scabbard.

“Not sure, but hopefully just pirates thinking we’re an easy target,” he replied as he secured the helm in place. I turned and picked up his shield, proudly emblazoned with the wolf of House Stark. The shield was made predominantly of ironwood with soft iron edging and while heavy, was remarkably durable according to Benjen and Oberyn.

He took hold of the shield but didn’t secure it against his arm. I suspect that was to avoid him being knocked down if someone struck it away while the ship rocked on the waves. He moved towards the door, only to stop and pass me the dagger Oberyn had gifted me on my fifth nameday. While I hadn’t done much training with it, Oberyn had insisted that I bring it with us to the Reach; something I was glad of as my hand felt the familiar contours of the grip beneath my fingers.

“Stay close to me,” Benjen demanded as he turned to the door, sword now in hand.

“Yes, sir,” I replied, silently regretting that Oberyn wasn’t onboard. He, along with Obara, Sarella and about a third of the Martell guards had remained in Highgarden. Willas was recovering and didn’t blame Oberyn for what’d happened; even considering he would likely always need a cane to walk. That had angered Mace and Olenna, but not nearly as much as Oberyn and Willas striking up the beginnings of a possible friendship. Oberyn wanted to stay to not only nurture the friendship – Willas was the likely future Warden of the South after all – but to both see if he could help Willas’ recovery and consult with the Maesters on a few matters. He planned to head north via ship a few weeks after us

As such the ship we’d boarded to head north was smaller than our transport to Oldtown, which likely made it a more inviting target for these pirates. Still, to run into them when the captain said we were only a few days north of Lannisport was surprising. We hadn’t stopped in the harbour there, due to issues with House Lannister, but I’d seen it as we’d sailed by. All in all, it was an impressive city, though not on par with Oldtown.

Benjen paused his shield hand on the door and looked down at me. I readied myself, gripping my dagger tightly, and nodded back. I’d have preferred to have something other than my sleepwear, but since I didn’t have any armour, it really didn’t make much difference. Though as a cold breeze swept into the room as the room opened, I did wish I’d at least had time to throw on some more clothes.

The sounds of shouting grew louder and were joined by the clashing of steel, though thankfully the corridor was empty. Once in it, I saw that two Martell guards were watching the stairs leading to the main deck carefully. Both had their shields in front of them, with their spears resting on the top. Four more guards were standing ready outside the room my mother was sharing with Arianne. I frowned as I saw that one guard was lying on the ground between the stairs and the princess’ cabin, unmoving while the eighth that should’ve been in the narrow corridor was nowhere to be found.

As we neared the princess’ room, the creaking of wood drew my attention to the stairs. A pair of feet began to descend, however before I could see anything more than this person’s legs, the guards thrust their spears forward. One spear slid off the man’s greaves, but the other found paydirt just below the knee. That guard pulled his spear back, causing the descending man to lose his balance. His head struck one of the stairs loudly before he slid to the bottom. Before he could recover, the two guards thrust forward again, impaling the tips of their spears in his neck.

The man slumped to the bottom of the stairs, and one guard quickly moved forward to pull his body out of the way. Neither showed any concern for the final blood-filled gargles of the dying man, as I saw him pulled to join at least four others; including the missing Martell guard. With the body cleared the guard retook his position beside and they returned to waiting.

Just as we reached the four guards outside Arianne’s room, the door across the hall – and the cabin next to ours – opened. “What’s going on?” Nymeria asked as she came to stand in the hallway. While she was wearing a shawl over her shoulders, it was easy to see she was still dressed in just her sleepwear as her legs were exposed below the knees, as was the triangle of chest between her neck and breasts.

“We’ve been boarded. Pirates I think,” Benjen replied. Nymeria tensed as he continued. “Stay in your room and bar the door.” Nymeria’s eyes narrowed as she glared at Benjen. “I know you can fight, but these pirates will target you, your sister and cousin. Stay in your room and protect Tyene.” Benjen’s words soothed some of Nymeria’s fury and I was impressed he’d figured out how to phrase things to get her to stay down here. Like her father, Nymeria was hot-headed and quick to fight and while I didn’t doubt her skill with a dagger, in the chaos that was undoubtedly ensuing above us, her going up there was just asking for trouble. The pirates would target her simply for her gender and like Benjen I had to agree that her staying down here was the more logical approach.

Nymeria continued to glare at my uncle before huffing. “Fine. But if they get down here, I'm joining the fight.”

Benjen chuckled. “Fine, now stay inside and bar the door.” Nymeria gave him a quick nod and closed the door. That was followed by the sounds of the latch being secured even as Benjen moved towards the four guards outside Arianne’s room.

“The boy should be with his mother,” Benjen said to the guard. However, none of them moved to allow us access to the door. Benjen growled, at the four before the closest guard nodded. One of the rear pair knocked on the door with the shaft of his spear.

"Princess, Ser Benjen is here with Cregan,” the lead guard said loud enough that his voice would carry inside. A moment later I heard the latch being unlocked, followed by the door opening and mother stepping out. She rushed forward, her shawl sliding from her shoulders, and pulled me into a tight hug that caught me off-guard and almost made me drop my dagger.

“Cregan,” she whispered as I struggled to breathe. “Thank you.” She added, presumably to Benjen as I felt her grip lessen enough that I could inhale once more.

“I feel better going into battle knowing he’s safe,” Benjen replied as I tightened my grip on my dagger, using that to ignore how close I was to my mother’s bosom. And, once more, how well-developed she was in that area.

“May the Gods, old and new, grant you strength,” mother offered before she guided me firmly but gently into her shared room.

Once inside, she let go of me and I heard the latch once more secure the door. Though before I could look around the room I was again pulled into a hug, though this time by someone much closer to me in height. As long dark locks fell over my head, my face was pushed into their neck, letting me inhale the familiar scent of Arianne.

“Thank the gods you’re ok,” she whispered as she loosened her grip.

“I, uh,” my words trailed off as I was able to move back enough to see her; or more importantly, that she was only dressed in her nightgown that, like much Dornish fashion, was very thin and revealing. She was just hitting her teens and it was becoming clear that she was going to take after her mother and blossom into a very beautiful, if short as I was almost the same height as her and five years younger, young lady.

“Do you know anything about who’s attacking us?” Mother asked, drawing my attention away from Arianne.

“No. Benjen suspected it was pirates and I saw the guards kill one as he tried to descend the stairs,” I paused as I cast my mind back to that short moment and frowned. “Um, I think he had a sigil on his clothing,” I added as I examined the memory to see if I could make it out. Sadly, with the poor lighting in the corridor and the darkness on deck, I hadn’t managed to get a clear look at the sigil; though I did have a suspicion that we weren’t being attacked by pirates. However, I wasn’t going to voice that and increase Arianne and my mother’s worry.

Arianne guided me over to a table in their cabin. Since Arianne was the heir to Dorne, as expected her cabin was much larger than the others with room for five or six of us to sit around the cabin in relative comfort. As I sat, I tightened my grip on my dagger as even though the seats were as comfortable as they could be for a ship, any thoughts of relaxing were non-existent as men fought and died above us.

My blood felt like it was boiling at not being out there fighting to protect my family, but the more rational side of my mind knew that, at my current age and skill level, I’d be more of a hindrance than anything.

A few minutes passed before shouting was heard outside the door. I saw both women tense as the sounds of steel clashing against steel, intermixed with shouts and grunts from those fighting outside, seeped into the cabin.

Something crashed against the door, followed by what I just knew was someone shoulder-barging the door in an attempt to enter. I slid from my chair and moved to stand between Arianne and mother and the door. I adopted a combat stance Though if the men outside could take out six Martell guards, I doubted I’d be able to slow them down. That, however, didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try.

“Argh!” Arianne called out as she banged into something behind me. I glanced back to see she’d caught her knee on the table as she’d stood, however, what drew my attention was the candle that’d fallen from the table. While the flame was gone, helping the nightly shadows grow, the embers were still burning.

An insane idea entered my mind as I saw this, yet to do that would mean revealing something I didn’t want anyone to know about currently. A crash at the door returned my attention to it, and I saw the edge of an axe had wedged its way through the door. Not enough that anyone could reach through, but it was clear the door wouldn’t survive much longer.

That made my idea all I had, so I closed my eyes and reached out with my magic. The sound of the axe being pulled from the door didn’t help my concentration as I focused on the dying embers of the candle. Reigniting a flame was something I’d only tried recently, and while taxing, was something I could do. However, for this to work, I was going to have to push much, much further.

The axe smashed back into the door, and I heard Arianne stifle a scream. That did nothing to encourage me as the embers resisted my demand that they reignite. A third smash at the door soon followed.

“There’s a girl inside,” a voice called out, breaking my concentration. The malice and excitement in that voice sent shivers down my spine.

I growled at the clear intent in the voice, even as I tried to reignite those embers. However, with my eyes now open and seeing more of the room, I noticed a candle on a desk near Arianne’s bed. That was still lit and I felt stupid as fuck for not thinking about using one of the other, still lit, candles in the room instead of focusing on the extinguished one near me.

“Two of them and a brat,” another voice said, and I looked at the door to see the hole was now large enough that I could make out the face of one of our attackers. It was hard to determine his age, what with the bad lighting and blood on his face, but I’d guess he was in his early to mid-twenties. “Can’t wait to sample them.” He added with such lust that I had to fight an urge to throw my dagger at him.

The face pulled back and I saw something red flash across the gap in the door as steel clashed against steel.

“For Dor-urgh,” a voice that I knew was one of the Martell guards called out as he was killed.

Before there was time to process that, the door flew open and an older, war-worn man stepped into the room. His armour was soaked red, partially covering up the sigil on his chest though my eyes were drawn to the red blade at his side. As the faint light in the room caught it and seemed to dance down the blade, I swore I knew it. However, any thoughts of racking my brain for knowledge about the blade vanished as his eyes found Ariane and he chuckled. “Never had me a princess before.”

The burning in my blood roared, and I rushed forward, hoping to catch him unawares. However, before I’d barely taken two steps, I saw movement and was sent flying across the room.

“Cregan!” I heard my mother call out moments before I struck something hard, and darkness engulfed me.

… …