Dornish Discussions

Posted on Tue Sep 7th, 2021 @ 5:25pm by King Aethan Velaryon & Ser Denestan Bulwer

Mission: The Iron Price
Location: Snakestone Manor
Timeline: 5th Day of the 22nd Moon,404 AC

From his meeting with the Jeweller , Aethan decided to ride to Snakestone Manor unannounced to speak with Prince Nymor and hopefully assuage any negativity that may have festered between them because of the Council.

With Ser Denestan at his side, the King dismounted his steed as they approached the walled manse. "Ser Denestan, will you announce my arrival?"

"Yes, Your Grace," Ser Denestran said, proceeding ahead. He came to a stop before the gates and addressed Prince Nymor's guard. "The King is here to see the Prince."

As soon as the royal carriage approached the gates of the Martell land, guards were dispatched to inform their Prince. Now, one stepped forward, dark skinned, bald, and severe looking.

“My Lord, the Prince, says he would desire to meet you in the Gardens, Your Grace.”

The King followed the Dornish guards lead with Ser Denestan in tow. As the pair were led into the Gardens, Aethan took in the aromas and the colours.

Prince Nymor stood amongst the thicket, his eyes scanning from bush to bush. He was not looking for anything there, but was rather searching his mind. When he heard movement behind him, the massive man turned and offered a look that was quite dissatisfied.

“You have come to see me?” He asked with a curious tone. “To start an alliance or to end a war?”

"Hopefully both." Aethan said stepping closer to the Prince. "I come with a proposition."

“Then you are a man who understands that words can never do what solutions might.” The Prince speculated, pacing ever so slightly in his King’s Landing Garden. He grew weary of this city and of the north and was longing to return to Sunspear, though it was not yet clear if he would be going back in order to call his banners. “Speak, Valeryon. Let us see what your proposition might be.”

The King regarded the Dornishman. "I want to ask that your son, Arron, serve on the Small Council." Aethan was careful not to call it his council, so as not to inflame the situation.

The Prince grimaced, his broad features sagging down under his curly black beard. He did not seem impressed.

“After the all that has happened, you mean to placate all of Dorne by appointing my least imposing son to. Council where he will have no respect and no guaranteed influence?” Nymor asked.

"I would value his council as I would with all the members of the Small Council. He would be Master of Whisperers." Aethan said, hoping to entice the Prince of Dorne.

“Is Dorne so cheap to you; so minuscule in your mind, and so easily manipulated that you believe the insults we have suffered at your Council and before it can be wiped away so easily? Have we not shown enough of you presumptuous Kings of Westeros that our necks do not bow easily, especially to those who only bear us ill will?” The Prince proceeded, raising his voice as he went along, putting the King’s Guard and his own edge. “The arrogance of you people! Have you no idea how well known those insults your Baratheon Lord bore us have become already? Do you not know that my Lords are imploring me constantly that response is needed? And do you think we shall get out of this situation, you and I, without a better deal than this?”

"What deal do you have in mind my Lord?" Aethan was curious, but his mind went back to the day of King Waynn's funeral. "If I recall, my Grandmother courted your support before the Council and you rebuffed that offer. "

"That is because I backed the wrong man." Nymor said, a tone of reasonableness breaking his heavily accented irritation. "But that is not why we are here. I know the way back to Sunspear when I have lost. This is about the insults that were suffered to my people at the Council. All of my Lords were present, and they are baying for blood. It will require more from you than just a seat on the Council."

The large Prince shifted his weight onto one foot, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper beard.

"The first request is simple; the second one is difficult."

"Speak them." The Kind looked on, his face even and unmoving. "No reasonable request will go unconsidered."

“My Lords may relent if they see that you value Dorne more than do some others. If you pay Dorne a visit soon, tensions may be calmed.” Nymor said, “ and the second one is this: Brannis Baratheon must be rejected. If he sits on your Council, he cannot remain for long. He is an enemy of my people and his gain means our loss.”

The Prince paused, looking at the much younger King.

“You don’t need to give me an answer now, but it is my belief that these things, coupled with my son’s appointment as you suggested, will help us to avoid a war. But, in the case of the Baratheon, do not wait too long. At times it can be, when something has been prepared for long enough, it is more costly to stop then to continue.”

Aethan pursed his lips and thought a moment. “While I’m sure my queen will agree with adding Dorne to our royal progress following our wedding in Oldtown, I cannot rationalize dismissing one of my councillors due to the offence of one lord or another. If I were to do this for you, what would stop every lord from asking the same of me. There’s be no man left to sit on my council.” The young king said thoughtfully. “Your quarrel is a personal one, between yourself and Lord Brannis. I will not have it affect the running of the realm.” Aethan was sure to be firm in his words but soft in his tone as he spoke with the Dornishman.

“But it has already effected the running of the Realm.” The Prince said, frustrated. “But we can settle that issue at a later date; perhaps I will remove him myself.”

The Prince folded his massive arms over his barrel chest, not as fit as he used to be but certainly amazing in strength and stature.

“Add Sunspear to your royal progress and I think I can use that, in conjunction with Arron’s place on the Council, to quell the disquiet among my bannermen.”

"Done." Aethan said without any hesitation. He was glad the Prince was a straight to business sort of man so this meeting didn't need to take as long as on others he might have to attend. "Was there anything else?" The King asked, already prepared to depart.

“No, I think that will do.” The Prince said with a serious expression. “For the time being.”

Aethan nodded. "Will take me leave, there is much do do before my coronation." The young king turned to find Ser Denestan, "Let's go." He said.