Epilogue: Daenerys
Daenerys scoured the ground below her, looking at the Dornish coast as it unfolded under Drogon.
The sandy beaches of Dorne started fading into the large dual cities of Sunspear and Planky Town, and the least she could say is that it had changed a lot since the last time she came here, almost fifteen years ago.
Sunspear and Planky Town had grown, and large ships now riddled both harbors, with new, large jetties dashing into the ocean from the docks.
Her dragon made a few circles to get a better view of the effervescence below, before finally landing in Sunspear's courtyard, which was large enough to accommodate Drogon, however large he may be.
Daenerys gave a pat to her dragon as she landed, sending him to fly out once more.
She then straightened up and looked at the welcoming committee, which had not budged.
Prince Quentyn was in front, as regal as ever, and clearly showing his Valyrian Steel sword. At his side was the now Princess Margaery, someone she hadn't seen since the conclusion of the War for the Dawn, almost ten years ago, who had for her part assimilated well into the Dornish way of life, with her thin, orange and gold dress, and omnipresent jewellery.
Also there were two of the Sand Snakes, Obara Sand, the Guardian of Sunspear, and Nymeria Sand, Quentyn's paramour, both dressed in their finest silks for the occasion. With them were the maester of the castle, the lady Treasurer, Jennelyn Fowler, and a few others which she did not recognize.
Behind them, were many children, some of course older than the others, who she would love to meet.
"Your Grace," said Quentyn as he kneeled in front of her. "Sunspear is yours."
"Rise, Prince Quentyn," Daenerys urged him up with a half-frown. She hadn't forgotten that Dorne had slowly distanced itself from the Iron Throne, and that Prince Quentyn himself had declined Daenerys' first proposal of a meeting since he was visiting the Summer Islands for the past month.
"Your Grace, you know my wife, Princess Margaery, but these are my children." Prince Quentyn pointed out each and every one of them.
"Princess Mariah."
A girl of eight with dark brown hair, brown eyes, olive skin and braided hair, who bowed respectfully.
"Prince Gerris."
A boy of six, with elegant, short, jet-black hair and dangerous, golden, eyes.
"Prince Alexis."
Another boy, of four, with lighter, long hair, and brown eyes.
"Princess Elia was born a few weeks ago, and as such, she's still resting. Princess Margaery as such may not stay with us much longer. As for my other children, you know of Aliandra."
The silver-haired twelve-year old girl bowed respectfully. She had traded her streaks for pure silver hair with time.
"And here is Mara."
Her younger sister was half her age, with dark hair and a silver streak, but light purple eyes. Truly, the Old Blood of Volantis manifested itself in interesting ways.
"A pleasure to meet you all," Daenerys said, "but first, I wished to discuss things in private, Prince Quentyn."
"Oh?" the prince acted surprised. "Very well."
Prince Quentyn led her to a secluded room, overlooking the sea, and posted three guards outside. He then had refreshments, fruit and cakes brought, before finally relaxing in his chair.
"I thought King Aegon was also supposed to join this royal procession," he pointed out.
"King Aegon is occupied in the Stepstones," Daenerys acidly remarked. "He wished to come, but your…voyage changed things."
"I am truly sorry, but I had left Dorne for four months to travel the Summer Islands with my…Nymeria and some of the children," Prince Quentyn confessed.
"Leaving a pregnant Princess Margaery in charge of Dorne," Daenerys bluntly remarked.
Prince Quentyn acquiesced the point with a silent nod.
"You left a Tyrell in charge of one of the most powerful kingdoms," Daenerys hissed.
"A Martell," Prince Quentyn was quick to correct. "Princess Margaery is my wife, and as such took on my name. I trust her enough to rule in my name, and it is not the first time she has done so."
"Of course," Daenerys scoffed. "You often travel to Nightsong, Starpike or Summerhall, but rarely to King's Landing. You even visited Highgarden and Oldtown, but not once did you come to see your own kin in the capital."
"With my apologies, Your Grace, but King's Landing is far from being welcoming." Prince Quentyn frowned. "When it becomes cleaner, I would love to come."
"We have been waiting on your builders for years…" Daenerys started but restrained herself. She remembered the rage she felt when she saw the luxury that awaited her at Summerhall, Yronwood, the Tor, Starfall or Skyreach, while her own accommodations were extremely basic in comparison.
"I do not think you came here to talk architecture, nor to ask how my voyage to the Summer Isles was, Your Grace," Prince Quentyn said, bringing a cup of water to his lips. "What brings you here, truly?"
"Your fleet has grown in the past years, I have seen many large galleys bearing sails painted with the Sun and Spear."
"Dorne's trade has essentially quintupled in less than ten years." Prince Quentyn nodded, satisfied with himself. "I need to protect that trade from pirates and other nuisances."
"Even with the Stepstones being in our possession?" she asked.
"Even so." Prince Quentyn nodded darkly. He likely still resents that some of the islands he claimed were his under the Volantis and Sunspear treaties were still not handed over to Dorne. And it was not like Daenerys was willing to give them back given how little Dornish blood was spilled on those rocks.
"In any case, Aegon wishes to take a second wife," Daenerys explained.
Prince Quentyn almost choked on his glass.
"What?" the prince exclaimed.
"It is obvious that I cannot bear children, and as such, Aegon wishes to take another wife to secure his legacy." Daenerys popped a grape into her mouth.
"And he wants to usher in a Second Dance I suppose?" Prince Quentyn scoffed. "Prince Aemon was raised as heir, rides a dragon, has the support of most of the realm…"
"Most."
"Aye, most, because you betrothed him to his own sister!"
"Essential for dragonriders."
"We are past the point of incest; it is time to move on. Prince Aemon and Princess Daena were raised together, and believe me, I will say to you that none of them take that betrothal to heart."
"The last time I saw them, they seemed quite fond of the idea." Daenerys smiled.
"They're children!" Prince Quentyn scoffed. "They play at games. Saying to a ten-year-old and an eight-year-old that they will be married sounds like a joke. Wait two to three years and see how well it goes then."
"With all due respect, I think you meddle enough in my family's personal lives already, Prince Quentyn. Do not overstep your boundaries." Daenerys frowned.
"They are my nephews and nieces, of course I care for them." Quentyn shook his head. "For how often I visit Summerhall, I should care for them!"
"The betrothal is final, Prince Quentyn. This is the Throne's word." Daenerys' tone rose.
"Very well." Prince Quentyn sighed. "But if you want my opinion on King Aegon taking a second wife, it is that I am opposed to it."
"Why?" Daenerys asked.
"Because Prince Aemon has been raised as heir, is looking like a smart and capable lad, with ties to two of the most powerful kingdoms…" Prince Quentyn trailed, "…and you must know, to some, he is the son of Azor Ahai, Prince who was Promised, or whatever they call him elsewhere."
"He isn't the only one who claims this title," Daenerys pointed out.
"Indeed, there is another one in the East, in Yi-Ti." Quentyn laughed. "Or rather, was."
"Was?"
"The whispers that come back from Yi-Ti say that the Great Hero named himself Emperor, and then took a wife from every province, and then moved on to siring one from every town. There are twenty-three provinces in the Golden Empire of Yi-Ti…" Prince Quentyn's smile did not diminish. "Well, it seems the Great Hero was still mortal. One day, he was found poisoned in his bed. His body was barely cold when the Empire fragmented into war, with each of his wives putting the claim of their children forth. And, with the trading galleys that arrive here, the war is still ongoing."
What kind of fool would marry twenty-three women? Even three or four could very well have doomed his realm. Daenerys shook her head.
"And you were quick to offer the Yi-Tish running from the war a place in Sunspear?" Daenerys asked.
"Of course, the merchants' quarter is becoming busier and busier, these days." Prince Quentyn's smile was very satisfied.
"Well, your opinion on King Aegon's wish has been noted." Daenerys sighed. He unfortunately wasn't the only one to be opposed to such an affair…
"Was that it?" Prince Quentyn rose an eyebrow. "You flew all the way from the capital to tell me this?"
"I wished to warn you, as well." Daenerys stayed calm, and looked him in the eyes.
"Warn me?"
"I see your little game, Prince Quentyn," Daenerys almost snarled. "I see how you wrapped the Reach around your finger. I see how you plan on doing the same to the Stormlands. Do not pull the dragon's tail, or it will burn you to a crisp."
Prince Quentyn looked on, with no emotion.
"Noted," was his only answer.
"I have also seen how you are slowly pulling Dorne out of the Iron Throne's political sphere," Daenerys explained. "A year ago, Lady Ynys Allyrion resigned her position of Master of Laws, which I then gave to Robar Royce, and Daeron Vaith now has left the position of Master of Whisperers vacant."
"Indeed, but those were individual decisions," Prince Quentyn pointed out. "I am not a tyrant that controls my subjects' every action."
"So, you would not mind if I appointed a Dornishman to the Small Council?" she asked.
"Why would I? It is an honor to serve on the council." Prince Quentyn shrugged.
"And if I would offer you the position?"
Prince Quentyn laughed.
"You'd have to offer me something more worthwhile than Master of Whisperers." He shook his head.
"Master of Coin, then?" she asked.
"Is Lord Hightower not doing a thorough enough job?" he asked.
"He is getting old, and I can easily dismiss him." Daenerys replied.
"The answer is still no, Your Grace. I prefer Sunspear to King's Landing, and the Water Gardens to Dragonstone," Prince Quentyn expectedly declined. "But feel free to ask any other Dornishman."
So much for the honor to serve, Daenerys thought bitterly, as she stood up.
"I think that is everything I had to discuss with you, but I would like to spend a little more time here, if you would?"
"Of course, Your Grace." Prince Quentyn bowed. "Sunspear will always be a leal servant of the dragons."
Somehow, Daenerys doubted that, but said nothing as she stepped out of the room. The thing she needed right now was to take a nice dive in one of the Water Gardens' pools.
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