GOT: Reborn as a Martell

( Oberyn )

Oberyn hated it. He hated everything about the past few weeks.

He had hoped that Quentyn's return could have brought a sense of normalcy back to the family. And it was going so well. Sure, Quentyn and Arianne were still distant, but nothing really surprising. And then came the tourney.

He had hoped that it would be an easy affair, with him winning in a blaze of glory at the end. He had won the tourney, of course, but it meant very little.

Quentyn had been brutally wounded, and his medicine may just have saved his life considering how large the wound was. It didn't take too long for him to recover, and since then he got distant, working in the city most days and only coming back to the castle at night.

Worse, most of the city was crying for Daemon Sand's head, since this was obviously an attempt on the prince's life. And then came the complications.

He hoped to go back to the Water Gardens as soon as the tourney was over, but Doran had instructed him to get to the bottom of this. An attempt on a prince of Dorne's life, even if it was accidental, was to be investigated with the utmost seriousness.

Here he was, stuck in Sunspear for what seemed like an eternity, until he finally got the answers he was looking for.

But now he had to find Quentyn. And that task proved to be extremely difficult. He would usually work with the guilds and healers for the fabrication of various medicines, but none of them had seen him that day.

So, there he wandered, going about the city of Sunspear, whose streets extended in all directions, like a maze of houses, trees and gardens.

Finally, he managed to find someone that had seen the prince. Along with an escort, he was seen in a small building close to the outskirts of the city, which had long been abandoned.

What a surprise it was for him, when he saw that the old abandoned building had been refurbished, and a large courtyard had been put where there usually only was grass and mud. In the middle of the courtyard, children were playing with an oddly shaped brownish ball.

Quentyn was sitting with his escort on the sides, a large bandage over his right side, just smiling.

His nephew turned his head in Oberyn's direction, and made eye contact. Without being asked, he slowly walked towards him, instructing the people escorting him not to follow.

"Uncle Oberyn." He acknowledged. "What brings you here?"

"There have been developments." He answered sternly. "I need to talk to you. In private."

"Very well." Quentyn looked around. "Follow me upstairs."

Oberyn followed his nephew through a small staircase leading to a balcony overlooking the courtyard. While passing through the corridor next to the balcony, he noticed beds and offices being placed in the rooms they crossed.

Finally, Quentyn opened a door that led to a small office, on which were placed a few books and a small desk, chairs, and tables.

His nephew rushed to the window, opening it, and letting the light shine through the small room. Intrigued, he had to ask:

"What is this place?"

"This, uncle, is Sunspear Hospital."

"Hospital?" he asked, confused.

"It's a place where anyone can come and be treated for wounds, pains, fevers and any physical inconvenience they may suffer. Right now, we only accept children and the elderly, but soon enough I hope we'll be able to accommodate anyone." He replied. "For free, of course."

"And who is paying for all of it?"

"Everything here is on my account."

"Your account?"

"I have a certain amount of assets, uncle, not all of which I tell you about."

"Right." Oberyn clutched his forehead, sitting down and pulling a chair. This was another conversation he wanted to have, but really could not find the patience to deal with at the moment. "And you have enough medicine and maesters for this endeavour?"

"I do." He replied. "Setting up the guilds to produce medicine was quite easy. And then paying a couple healers to work here and train new recruits wasn't hard either. We also got some help from Myr and the Summer Islands. Your daughter Sarella is helping a lot in this case."

"Sarella?"

"She seems to know the right people." Quentyn sighed, slowly taking off the bandage he had around his head. Seeing that Oberyn looked confused, he then added: "I keep it so that the children don't get scared by the scar."

"I think they've seen worse."

"Let's hope not."

As the bandage gave way, Oberyn could see the cut that Daemon Sand's sword had left through Quentyn's face. 

It wasn't that deep of a cut, as it had healed through the past weeks, but it still left a small gash through his face, starting on the bottom of his right cheek, making its way up, missing the eye, and going straight through the eyebrow, stopping in the middle of the forehead, where his helmet had stopped it from going further.

"How is your eye?" Oberyn inquired.

"I lost some vision during the first few days." Quentyn answered. "But it got better. If I had dodged a moment later, I would have lost it."

"If you had dodged a moment later you might not have been here either."

Quentyn nodded grimly.

"A scar is better than giving up my life, I suppose." He sighed.

"Well, you're going to have more success with the maidens now."

"Nym…eria told me the same." He answered, slowly realizing the mistake he'd made. "I could find snow in Dorne before I could find a maiden. And besides, I'd rather have my face very much intact."

"You've gotten close with my second daughter?" he inquired.

"We help each other." He cryptically replied. "And she's gone to Skyreach now. Besides, what was the urgent matter you wished to talk about?"

Oberyn knew it was futile to press the matter any further, and what is more, he had bigger issues to deal with.

"Arianne has been confined to her rooms in Sunspear, along with three other ladies." He answered. "Daemon Sand has finally talked."

"It took him a while." Quentyn frowned, visibly unsurprised. "Did my sister actually think having me killed was a good idea?"

"No." Oberyn replied simply. "He said that she wished you some degree of harm, but didn't wish to have you killed."

"Ah yes, cutting one's head off is not wishing harm to come to him." Quentyn laughed, touching his scar with one hand. "Do you actually truly believe that?"

"This matter might be more complicated that you think, nephew." Oberyn shifted uncomfortably. "I doubt Arianne would want to take such a stupid decision."

"Dorne would beg to differ, uncle." Quentyn continued, placing his hands on the desk before him. "Sunspear has been crying for vengeance ever since Daemon tried to cut me down, and there have been a lot of rumours around my sister being a kinslayer."

"Your father has been aware of these rumours." Oberyn replied, nodding his head. "He wishes to discuss the future of our house in two days."

"Will I be invited?" he scoffed.

"Yourself, only." Oberyn replied. "Following the talks that we may have; Arianne will join us as well."

"About time…" Quentyn whispered under his breath. "There will be need for justice, uncle, I hope you realize it."

Oberyn nodded grimly.

"Do you wish to have Daemon tried and executed?"

"No." Quentyn answered simply. "I am not cruel. I can see where a man has been manipulated to a certain extent. Killing him would be like killing whoever sent him, and I am no kinslayer. Exile, to Norvos mayhaps?"

"I shall discuss it with your father, or you may ask him yourself."

"Indeed, I shall." He nodded back. "Things have been unclear for too long. I need to know where my position stands and if father wishes to give Dorne to a kinslayer."

"Your sister…"

"Arianne tried to have me killed as far as I am concerned." Quentyn cut out. "I wish her no harm, but I do wish for Dorne to be put out of her hands. If father cannot find a solution soon, we shall all soon be paying the price for it."

"Your position is secure, Quentyn. More than you know." Oberyn tried to calm him down, but his nephew just scoffed.

"Aye, I know about the pact you made in Braavos." Oberyn paled. "And let me tell you that this is not a guarantee of any kind. Actually, this is quite the opposite, especially since our own actions can mean little in the future."

"What do you mean?" Oberyn now asked, intrigued. Clearly, if Quentyn knew that much, then there was something he was missing.

Quentyn just lifted himself up from his chair and looked out of the window towards the city and the small road leading out, to the North, and to the Water Gardens slightly beyond the horizon.

"We shall talk when we reach the Water Gardens." Quentyn simply said, as he turned to face Oberyn once more. He opened his mouth to say something else, but words never came out. Instead, he shook his head, and continued his previous speech. 

"Things need to be set straight. Not only for my sake, but for our House and Dorne's. Father likes to play a slow game, but he has ignored so much that he needs to be aware that the cards might no longer be in his hands."

=================

This marks the end of the transition chapters. As you can see, Quentyn is basically threatening with soft words that if Arianne would be declared heir, the consequences could lead to war, even if Quentyn himself refused to take arms against his sister. 

With her, in the eyes of the people, taking action against Quentyn, there is really no recourse against civil war in that case. Doran has to tread extremely carefully.