GOT: Reborn as a Martell

Years had come and gone for Areo Hotah, and as they passed, he could feel that time had not been particularly kind to him.

With every passing year, the Norvoshi guard's axe had felt heavier and heavier, despite his duties becoming lighter and lighter.

Yet, he did not falter in his duties. The prince commanded, and Areo obeyed. And so, he did.

He had stayed by his prince's side, even dutiful. He had seen and felt the prince's pain as the gout took him and forced him to be tied to a chair.

He had seen dozens, if not hundred of faces come and go through the Water Gardens. He had seen every corner of Dorne represented, and every one of the Martells come and go.

He had seen the little princess grow into a beautiful woman. He had seen the little prince grow into a scarred warrior. He had seen the baby prince grow into a young man.

And most of all, he had seen the miracles that had come to Dorne with the little prince.

Areo paid no mind at first, but it was hard to ignore the changes that were coming to Dorne. New medicine, flowers, fruits and spices soon flooded the Dornish markets. The commonfolk were happier, the lords richer, and most of all, his prince began a remarkable recovery.

Ever since the little prince had first come to the Water Gardens, Areo's prince had taken the extract every day. And with every passing day, Areo could feel that his prince was regaining his strength and youthfulness.

He started with slow walks of an hour with a cane and his help, then transitioned to longer walks with the cane alone. Soon, there was no need for a cane at all.

Areo could sense that his prince had finally started to look lively again, and was planning to take a trip across Dorne, something he hadn't done in many years.

And all of that thanks to the little prince standing in front of him.

"Your squire has to stay here." He told Prince Quentyn.

"Of course." The little prince nodded back.

The Dayne boy quickly bowed and scurried off somewhere, while Areo and the little prince made their way towards one of the Water Gardens' inner pools.

On their way there, he couldn't help but look at the small frog in the prince's pouch. He had seen such frogs before, but he couldn't remember where.

"Tell me, little prince." Areo asked. "Where did you find this frog of yours?"

"A merchant from Volantis sold it to me at Yronwood." Quentyn answered.

"Volantis…" Areo took a second to think. "Yes…I think I have seen some of these before."

"Really?" Quentyn raised an eyebrow. "It wouldn't surprise me to find Rhoynish Tree Frogs in the Noyne as well, to be fair."

"Ah, there it was." Areo finally had put his finger on it. "Some Norvoshi priests keep the frogs for good luck."

"It's the same here." Quentyn answered simply.

Of course, it was a little more complicated than that. Rhoynish Tree Frogs were common along the Rhoyne before the destruction of the Rhoynar, and along with the turtles of the river, were worshipped by them. 

However, when the Valyrians conquered the area, they exterminated almost all of them because of the link they supposedly had with the Rhoynar.

Despite this, the frogs survived, and in cities along the Rhoyne and its affluents such as Norvos, Selhorys, Valysar, Volon Therys and even Volantis, these tree frogs were collected by wealthy merchants and nobles.

Not many of these were of Valyrian descent, though, as the frogs symbolized resistance to Valyrian rule. Instead, they were traded and sold to the Dornish, nostalgic of a Rhoynish era long gone, or to the Braavosi and their curiosity, or supersitition. 

The Norvoshi also collected them, as they managed to rid much of their expensive gardens of flies, hornets and even snakes, and little Norvoshi cared for the fact that the Rhoynar held them and the Rhoynish turtles as tokens of resistance against the Valyrians.

It wasn't that surprising that the little prince had managed to acquire one, although one such specimen would be quite expensive. Although judging by its size, it was quite young, and Rhoynish tree frogs were said to live as long as fifty years, mayhaps more.

Areo didn't dwell on it too much, though, as they entered the convened meeting place.

It was a small area, in the middle of palm trees, with small ponds scattered around the freshly watered gardens, which now hosted a variety of different flowers each more colourful than the other. There were no pools here, only a small table with two chairs opposite each other.

Areo would not sit. He would have plenty of time to sit later. Now was the time to watch over the princes.

"Father." Quentyn bowed as he saw prince Doran standing next to the chairs. "I see that your health has been improving. I'm glad."

"Sit, Quentyn." Doran answered. "We have much to discuss. Tea?"

Quentyn nodded as he was handed a cup of a small brewage.

"It was a good thought that you had, to plant several seeds of this Yitish plant in the forests." Doran continued as the sweet smell of the beverages dissipated into the air. 

"It's a wonder we didn't think of it before. This will save us a fortune in trading with far-away Yi-Ti. How did you get this idea?"

"Trial and error." Quentyn answered simply, moving the cup to his lips. "The seeds didn't grow at Yronwood, and they did here."

"I see." Doran answered. "Tell me, Quentyn. How did you manage to do all of what you did? The medicine, the perfumes, the new fruits and glassworks? I can hardly believe you learnt it from Yronwood."

"Does it matter?" Areo could feel the little prince's voice grow uneasy. "I read and I learnt. I experimented and I thought. What matters is the results."

Prince Doran set two fingers on his beard, thinking for a brief moment, before continuing.

"Very well." He nodded. "Then let us talk of something else. Something I wish to know. You have heard of Lord Fowler's coming to the Gardens."

"His daughters were hard to avoid." Quentyn shook his head as he finished his cup.

"Then you must know that he came for my approval of a match between his daughter Delilah and Yronwood's heir, Cletus."

Quentyn nodded.

"I trust that you waved him off."

"What makes you think that?" Doran smiled.

"Come, father." Quentyn sighed. "You wouldn't dare give the go-ahead for the marriage between houses capable of trapping us inside our own peninsula, or giving Dorne to our enemies."

"So, you disapprove? It was an alliance that for all intents and purposes, you helped create. I wonder…"

"Father." Quentyn said sternly. "I am not a lordling or a toy you may play with. I am your son. If you have something to say or ask, please do so plainly."

"Very well." Doran nodded. "When you came here, you came with the intention of getting me to officially recognize you as heir. If Arianne hadn't been reckless, what would you have done? I can see your plan, but there are still holes which I cannot fill."

"I suppose I can. This alliance that I had created was supposed to be loyal to me, not to each other. Hence my recent frustrations with Lord Anders." Quentyn shrugged. 

"Regardless, you of course know that houses Yronwood and Allyrion were already tied, so there were no issues on that end. But you were right, the Fowlers were key to my strategy. 

I thought about leveraging Lord Franklyn and Lord Anders' friendship and the promise of revenge. Something that would have taken time. However, Arianne decided that it would be much simpler to deliver the Fowlers straight into my lap…quite literally, if I may add.

Turning the Fowlers against my sister was then easy. Once I had Jen's friendship, I had her sister's, and then Delilah and Fiora, then Franklyn. All I needed to do was promises here and there, and the establishment of a few guilds in Skyreach."

"You would have had the two houses controlling the Marches. But how about the Wyls?"

"Irrelevant." Quentyn brushed him off. "The Wyls are raiders and Yronwood would have kept them at bay. The real prize was to the West."

"The Daynes?"

"Precisely. Once I had the Yronwood and the Fowlers, I had to move onto the Stony Dornish. 

The Qorgyles and the Yronwoods already had privileged ties, and rallying them to my side wasn't hard, especially considering the fact that Gulian Qorgyle is quite an intelligent man, and the heir to Sandstone being amongst my closest companions would have secured their support. And after the Qorgyles, I needed the Daynes.

The Daynes weren't hard to convince either. Lord Alyn was a dying old man, and he was all too eager to ensure that Edric's rule wouldn't be contested by any Dayne cousins or cadet branches, provided that I give him some…concessions, which I was more than happy to provide. 

With Edric recalled to my side, this now gave me the whole of Western Dorne, trapping the Blackmonts and Wyls, since the Manwoodys would've followed whichever path Fowler and Yronwood were taking."

"This does leave a lot of Dornish houses."

"It does. But most of them were irrelevant to me. The territories loyal to me would've consisted of the most strategic places in Dorne: the passes, the Boneway, the Greatwater, the Torentine and Godsgrace. With these, I could've halted trade on the Greenblood.

I doubt Vaith, Uller and Gargalen would've declared for me. I didn't put a lot of hopes in House Toland either. This left the Jordaynes."

"What would you have given them?" Doran asked, thoughtful. "The Jordayne succession is secure, and they are already a wealthy house."

"My hand." Quentyn answered simply. "The title of consort."

"I thought that you liked your freedom."

"Dorne is worth a marriage." Quentyn raised an eyebrow. "And I am not stupid enough to think I shall remain unwed for long."

"Your grandfather was a Jordayne, too." Doran pointed out. "Other houses would've grumbled."

"Houses on Arianne's side, perhaps. But not mine. I had my allies right where I wanted them. And to convince Jordayne, I needed both a show of force and a show of kindness. 

The show of force would've been the houses at my back, and the show of kindness would've been my hand. I would have pledged it to Myria or Samira, and therefore save the Allyrions from a deadly enemy."

"A well-constructed alliance." Doran looked thoughtful. "But what would've happened if I still refused to name you my heir?"

"Then I would have played a patient game." Quentyn replied. "The situation in the Seven Kingdoms was rapidly deteriorating. 

I only needed to wait for a spark that would've lit a fire, to stop any outside intervention.