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GOT : Chapter 189
🕑 Added 2025-02-21 13:51:14 +0000 UTC
( Arianne POV )
Arianne straightened up in her chair.
The past week had been a struggle for her. She hadn't slept much, she wished to eat all the time, she felt shortness of breath, heartache, swollen extremities…and that was without even considering how tired she felt all the time.
Though, her pregnancy was nearing its end. The new Grand Maester had announced that she would be delivering any day now, and all that there was to do was just wait.
Jon was worried, of course, but between the affairs of the realm, the affairs of the North, sending Sansa to Riverrun and his own issues, they could spend little time together.
Her brother, though, was another issue.
Whenever Tyene was absent, Quentyn brought her food, drink, pillows and comfort. He'd listen to her talk, and she'd ask for news about the Kingdoms.
This was one of these days. Quentyn sat opposite her, sipping some tea, while she ate some light biscuits to satisfy a hunger that could not be sated. All the while, handmaidens attended to her, and waited in case anything happened.
"How is Jon faring?" she asked.
"Unfortunately, he seems to dislike the political games of the capital." Quentyn shrugged. "All he asks is news of the North. Lady Catelyn reports that the last scouts have long since returned from beyond the Wall, and that the army of the dead is starting to launch assaults on the Wall."
"I take it that Jon wishes to go to the North right now?" she asked.
Quentyn nodded.
"He's stuck, so to speak. He will not admit it, but he also doesn't want to abandon you while you are due to deliver, and he also wishes to see his cousin safe before he does anything."
"At the same time, he wants to go fight," Arianne said, as much to herself as to her brother. "Politics isn't his thing."
"I can understand him on this point. Who doesn't dislike them?" Quentyn questioned, putting down his teacup on the table before him. "As for the dead, I do understand him too. The dead are knocking at our door, and while they have not found a way to breach the wall, the War for the Dawn is now starting. Bear Island reports that the sea has begun to freeze over…"
"They're trying to go around the Wall?" Arianne asked.
Quentyn pursed his lips.
"Nothing confirmed, yet."
"You know a lot for someone who isn't on the Small Council anymore." Arianne grinned.
He shrugged in response. "I may not sit on it, but I have my sources." "Ynys Yronwood and Daeron Vaith are thus quite loyal," Arianne surmised. "And have we sent forces to the North?"
"By 'us', do you mean Dorne?" Quentyn asked. "Aye, we have. They left with the Reachers yesterday, but I fear that they'll have to take the road on foot."
"And you will join them?" Arianne asked.
Quentyn nodded silently. "I think everyone has a duty to do whatever he can in the face of this new threat. I, as Prince of Dorne, am no exception."
"Where will you go?" she asked. "Jon tells me that the North can barely hold so many people in its land."
Quentyn's answer was swift. "Moat Cailin. Defend the rest of the kingdoms in case the dead try to outflank us. The Tyrells and Hightowers will be with us."
"Your new friends," Arianne said neutrally.
Quentyn didn't say anything but did smile slightly.
"Please, brother, don't think that you are subtle." Arianne chuckled. "The news of Lord Willas' marriage to the Fowler girl is common knowledge, and so are the other betrothals."
"Assuredly."
"Why?" Arianne asked. "The Tyrells are ruined, and so is the Reach. Oldtown is burned, Goldengrove a ruin, Horn Hill sees the Martell banner flutter over its walls…why try to keep them afloat?"
Quentyn's smile grew as he laid back in his chair.
"Because I am looking towards the future, sister. The Tyrells are ruined, yes, but they will rise again."
"The Targaryens can just as well give the paramountcy to someone else," Arianne pointed out.
"To whom?" Quentyn shrugged. "They cannot give it to the Hightowers, that would be catastrophic. Goldengrove is a ruin, the Arbor too, Brightwater is controlled by the Tyrells…and Horn Hill by us. Whether Aegon likes it or not, the Tyrells are still the biggest force in the Reach."
"A spent force, brother."
He nodded. "You're right. They are spent. And the winter that approaches will be all the more difficult."
"Tariffs, trade deals, selling grain at a fraction of their market value, reconstruction of their burnt towns, replanting of their fields, reparations…" Arianne enumerated the list. "As I said, the Reach is spent."
"But winter does not last forever. If it does, we would have bigger problems to deal with than petty alliances and conflicts. No, spring will come, and so will summer. The tariffs will be lifted, the reparations will be paid, the cities will spring up anew, the fields will become bountiful again…" Quentyn mused.
"That may very well be years from now," Arianne observed.
"Indeed. But I am a patient man, I will wait." Quentyn's smile became very self-satisfied. "In the meantime, Dorne has enough to feed itself. I have enough gold to lend the Tyrells to keep themselves afloat. After all, we are tied by marriage, no?"
Arianne's eyes started to widen, and she smiled too.
"You want to make them dependent on you."
"Close." Quentyn waggled a finger in good natured chastisement. "I want the Tyrells to be so intrinsically bound to Dorne that they cannot turn their backs on us. They have done a wonderful job of creating a vast network of alliances through the Reach, and I want it all."
"To what ends?" Arianne asked. "Surely you do not wish it just to poke the dragon? I understand that they are now forced to make their bed with the Tyrells because the alternative would be for them to grow even stronger with your support."
"Poking the dragon?" Quentyn scoffed. "They can learn to have to deal with Edmure Tully and Harrold Arryn. No, I do not care for that. What I want is their riches. Their grain, their wine, their trade, their books, their fruit, their vegetables, everything…"
"When summer comes, they'll have to pay your loans back…" Arianne started to understand where her brother was going with this.
"Not only loans, but through blood. In twenty, thirty years, many Reacher heirs or lords will be half-Dornish, and this means many more trade deals, contracts, and many more ways for our ports to get rich, for our trade to flourish…" Quentyn straightened up.
"So many Tyrell betrothals, I do see the issue," Arianne replied.
"Not only Tyrells, but their whole alliance." Quentyn spread his arms as he spoke, "Damon Hightower to Aliandra Qorgyle, Desmera Redwyne to Vincent Toland, Dickon Tarly to Sylva Santagar…"
"You tied Dorne to the Reach completely."
"I am also trying to convince Ned of marrying a Rowan girl, to have everything covered, but he is away escorting Sansa Stark to Riverrun." Quentyn shook his head. "Something to keep in mind for later. But yes, this is an…investment."
"One that you hope will benefit you later."
"One that I know will benefit me later. The Targaryens see the Reach as spent and under their thumb. They only look at it because I have designs on it."
"Don't you think they'll try to stop you?" Arianne asked.
"They already have by confirming the Paramountcy to the Tyrells," Quentyn admitted "That is annoyance enough, it does mean that the Tyrells will have to bear the cost for the whole Reach, and will delay their ascension to power. I had hoped some idiot like Rowan, Meadows or even the Florents could get it, but I was outmatched there." Quentyn bit his lip. "No matter, all that counts is that when summer comes, the coin, grain and trade comes flowing."
"Why not the Free Cities?" Arianne asked. "We have traded with them for generations."
"Do you truly think the Free Cities will stand once we have passed?" Quentyn asked. "Daenerys Targaryen will never let them live. She will endeavor to end them during her entire life, and I support it. The less she looks my way, the better I will find myself."
"She will ask for Dorne's support, you do know that?" Arianne raised an eyebrow.
"Of course." Quentyn scoffed. "And I will deliver. Dorne is part of the Seven Kingdoms, and Aegon is half-Martell. I do not intend to spit on my words and promises. We will do our part in the Seven Kingdoms, as long as the Targaryens honor the promises they made in Volantis and Sunspear."
"And if they do not?" Arianne asked.
Quentyn sighed deeply.
"Then I shall obey anyways. Just with…less enthusiasm and grace."
"Of course…" Arianne drawled. "Be careful to not go against dragons."
"I wouldn't be alone." Quentyn shook his head. "Daenerys and Aegon know it, and they know it well. I made them kings; I can unmake them just as easily."
"Please do not," Arianne warned.
"Calm down, sister. No such action will be required," Quentyn explained. "But, most importantly, they know that Dorne is still mostly untouched, and their strongest supporters."
"There is the Vale," she pointed out, "and the Stormlands."
"The Stormlanders are furious for two reasons. The first being that they are now less of a kingdom than the Riverlands, and the second is that half of their kingdom went to Dorne," Quentyn answered simply.
"The Valemen are mostly untouched, it is true, but they are in a difficult position. Lord Arryn's word is not law, he is contested. I am as well, it is true, but the Ullers are a voice drowned out by the others. Unfortunately, the young Lord Arryn is more engaged in a shouting match."
"And Lord Tully dislikes him," Arianne added.
