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GOT : Chapter 187
🕑 Added 2025-02-15 09:15:01 +0000 UTC"What happened to Grandmaester Pycelle?" she asked.
"He has a serious case of having his head removed from his shoulders." Arianne laughed. "Lannister creature…"
...
Sansa nodded. She did not particularly like Pycelle, the memories of him checking her maidenhood were still fresh in her mind, but at least he actually cared for her health. Though, if he lived or died, she could not care.
"And you have not yet wed?" Sansa asked.
"Not under the Seven, yet," Jon answered. "But we have sworn our vows in the godswood, in front of the Old Gods."
"I am happy for you, then." Sansa nodded, resting on a chair herself.
"You must be tired from your journey, Sansa." Arianne smiled sweetly. "Tyene, could you maybe have someone bring us some wine, refreshments and lemon cakes?"
Sansa smiled sweetly." That would be wonderful." "Of course." The blonde woman besides Arianne rose up and made to leave, but Jon stopped her.
"If you could also just leave us for a few moments, Tyene?" Jon asked. "I would like to have some private time with Ari and my sister."
"Should I come back in an hour?" Lady Tyene asked.
"That would be perfect," Jon said.
"Very well. Enjoy your rest, cousin. Good day to you, Princess Sansa, Prince Daeron." The blonde woman curtsied and left the room without another word.
"There's something hiding underneath that smile," Sansa observed as Lady Tyene left the room.
"Ah, my cousin is a sweet lady in appearance, but like a snake, she is deadly when she strikes," Arianne said with a knowing hum.
Sansa looked at Jon, who hadn't said anything, then back at Arianne, and sighed deeply, sinking into her chair.
"Prince Daeron?" she asked.
"Please don't call me that, Sansa." Jon frowned. "To you, to Arianne, and to anyone that I call family, I'm still Jon."
"I'd have trouble calling you anything else," Sansa replied, interrupted by the sound of knocking.
A servant came to serve some wine, water, and a few delicacies including lemon cakes, which Sansa greedily took a handful of.
With the servant dismissed, Sansa took a cup of wine and brought it to her lips, savoring the taste of the Arbor Gold.
"I suppose Arianne is the reason you aren't going back North right now," Sansa finally let out.
"It's a great part of the reason, yes." Jon winced. "But there remains many issues to be dealt with, notably the start of the work done on our new home…"
"Where have you chosen?" Sansa asked.
"Summerhall," Arianne answered. "Close to Dorne, only a few days away from Stonehelm and any ship willing to take us anywhere we wish."
Sansa sighed, but she understood. King Aegon and Queen Daenerys could never allow Jon to live anywhere else than within touching distance of their own possessions. She did not know where they would have allowed him to live: Duskendale, Dragonstone, Rosby, Darry or Harrenhal, but it would have to be south of Moat Cailin. At least, this answered that question.
"I understand," Sansa replied. "I would guess they want control over the dragon eggs too?"
"And Targaryen names for the babes as long as King Aegon and Queen Daenerys have no progeny!" Arianne raised her hands in the air. "As if we did not have Duncans or Joffreys before."
"And that's just one of the issues to deal with at the moment." Jon sighed, drinking a cup of wine himself.
"What else is there?" Sansa asked.
Arianne smirked. "My insufferable little brother, for one." "He has been stretching the monarch's patience thin. Well, at least Queen Daenerys'." Jon chuckled. "That is not something I can fault him for. It seems something happened at Tumbleton that broke him."
"Marrying Margaery Tyrell certainly came out of nowhere, but if there was a match for my brother, it would be her," Arianne pointed out. "Pretty, of age, intelligent just like my brother would have liked his consort to be…and most importantly, she would not impede on his relationship with our cousin."
"Not to mention the fact that Prince Quentyn resigning from the position of Master of Coin put the realm in a difficult situation. Lord Baelor Hightower was summoned, but he is too busy repairing the damage to his own city…" Jon shook his head. "But I agree with you, Ari. Your brother does seem to want to annoy the Targaryens as much as he can."
"Quentyn has always been quite…well, not spiteful, but hot-blooded, as all us Martells are. He knows how to hold a grudge and he will hold it well." Arianne drank a sip of water. "Though he should really stop pulling the dragon's tail, for one day, he will get burned."
"As long as he does so without being outrageous, he will have my support," Jon replied. "Just like Lord Tully will always have my support against Lord Arryn."
"Ah, that sad state of affairs." Arianne shook her head. "Let us not dwell on it for too long, or you will summon my cousin."
"Then there's the issue of Ice," Jon pointed out.
"What happened to our sword?" Sansa asked.
"Well, there lies the problem, it doesn't exist anymore." Jon frowned. "Tywin had two swords made out of our ancestral sword. Do you remember Quentyn Martell's Valyrian steel sword?"
Sansa nodded. She had not seen it up close, but she knew it was Valyrian steel from the way everyone talked about it.
"Well, it is one of these two swords. He took it from the cold body of Tywin Lannister." Jon rested his head back into his chair. "And, of course, he refuses to give it back, by right of conquest."
"And the other part?" Sansa asked.
"That is the sword that the Targaryens wish to keep. Unfortunately, their arguments as to why they should keep it are…not that strong," Jon answered simply. "It has been a tug of war between myself and Aegon, and Prince Quentyn has been the winner since no one asks a single question about his sword anymore."
"Don't count on Quentyn returning it, either," Arianne let out in a soft voice.
"I unfortunately don't have much hopes on it, no." Jon shook his head. "But I will wrestle the other one out of Aegon's hands."
"And you, Princess Sansa?" Arianne asked. "How are you faring in all this? Did my brother treat you well in Dorne?"
"As well as could be," Sansa said. There was no need not to be truthful in this instance. "Lady Ellaria is a charming woman, and all of the young snakes are very cute and friendly. Your brother, Prince Trystane, is growing into a charming young man, and Princess Myrcella is also…radiant."
"The Water Gardens are a special place." Arianne leaned back into her chair. "I cannot wait to see them again."
"And I would love to visit them by your side." Jon smiled back.
"Dorne is indeed beautiful." Sansa slapped Jon's shoulder. "Oh, and you should see Sunspear! They have running water, latrines that flush when you are done, and installations called showers which pump water so it pours over you just like if it were raining, so it saves you the water of a bath!"
"Quentyn…" Arianne shook her head.
"He promised us we'd have the same in Summerhall." Jon chuckled.
"You lucky ba-" Sansa stopped herself from going further.
"Would you like to come back? Perhaps I could arrange a betrothal…" Arianne smiled at her.
"That is kind, but I wish to go back to my home, and my home is the North." Sansa shook her head. "Dorne is lovely and beautiful, and I do hope to come back one day, but for now, all I wish is to see my family again."
"I understand that, believe me." Arianne nodded, rubbing a hand over her belly. "I too wish to go back to Dorne, see the Water Gardens…"
"One day, Ari, I promise. I'll take you atop Winter and we can go see the Gardens like you've never seen them before." Jon smiled.
Arianne blushed slightly.
"It would certainly be more enjoyable for you than listening to those petty debates in the Small Council." Arianne chuckled.
"The Reach, the Westerlands and the Ironborn." Jon sighed. "That's all they talk about."
"What about them?" Sansa asked.
"The Reach, first of all. Because we are heading towards a long Winter, everyone wants a piece of them. But it's not that simple," Jon admitted wearily.
"My brother muddied the waters even more after he revealed his marriage to Lady Margaery and the offer of Starpike and Dunstonbury as dowry." Arianne smiled. "Typical Quentyn."
"Not to mention my own distaste for most of the Reacher lords. There were many talks about giving the Paramountcy to someone else…" Jon sighed. "But everyone followed the Tyrells, and because I defended their castle against the Ironborn, it's them who have the largest intact forces in the Reach!"
"Not to mention no one would consider the Hightowers," Arianne added. "Giving the center of the Faith and Citadel such power would be…to create much more problems. Unless you split the Reach in the middle, of course."
"Which was never going to happen. An unstable Reach right now is the last thing we need." Jon shook his head. "For the Reach, they came to the conclusion that making the Tyrells indebted to the Crown and even more dependent on the Iron Throne was the best option. To completely strangle them."
"How so?" Sansa asked.
"Place low prices for their grain, discharge most of the crown debt on them and the Lannisters, make them pay exorbitant reparations to the Tullys and Martells … in short, ruin them," Jon answered. "It's a simpler solution."
"The issue is…my brother." Arianne chuckled.
