Falling for the King

News from the North

In the South...

Dorne...

Arianne Martell POV

Arianne was in her room flipping through the book her father mentioned to her, trying to find the clue about the Targaryens.

Her son was fast asleep in the crib next to her. The lords were still in Sunspear, waiting for her decision, though she didn't really know who to choose.

As she continued reading, Arianne heard a knock at the door and after giving permission, saw her uncle enter.

"A scroll from the North," he said, giving it immediately, and Arianne unfolding started to read it.

To all the sovereigns of the Southern Kingdom. I Ramsey of House Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort, informs you that the King in the North Jon of House Stark is dead. Soon the Northern Kingdom will have a new ruler that bears the name of House Bolton.

Every southern that will place a foot on the Northern ground, as long as I'm King, will be flayed alive, and his mutilated body displayed on the shores of the Kingdom.

Signed, Ramsey Bolton lord of Dreadfort and ruler of the North.

Folding the scroll, Arianne got up from the bed, heading towards the table to take a drink of Dornish wine.

"So, he is dead," she said, taking a sip. He was really their only hope to fight the Dothraki. "But I don't understand why this Bolton sent a letter to us. Why inform the South regarding something so delicate?"

"A madman he is nothing else. His father was a much better politician than him, and more cunning."

Arianne nodded, taking a sip, and asking, "News from your daughter?"

"White harbour denied their entrance," Oberyn said filling himself a goblet of wine, before taking a sip. "All the ships coming from Asshai are offshore waiting for permission to enter. Though I doubt that they will stay for too long on the sea."

"Well, it seems Bolton had planned everything perfectly," she said returning to the bed.

"Highgarden has fallen Arianne. And so did House Tyrell," her uncle said, twirling the goblet before taking a sip. "You need to decide quickly regarding who to marry. The lion will soon march on the Prince's Pass and draw to their side the Marches' House."

Arianne, sighing nodded, and slowly approached her son's cradle. "Will you take good care of him, uncle? Will you protect him from any harm that may come from the house that I will choose as consort?"

"Yes. Ellaria will take him to Hellholt, and my daughter Elia will go with them so she will protect the boy when I'm away."

Arianne nodded, squeezing her eyes as she felt the tears coming, at the thought that soon she will be separated from her son, and heard Oberyn approach and ask, "Who will you choose?"

"Cletus Yronwood. I think it's proper to join the two most powerful Houses of Dorne."

"Yes, he is. And I think it's better if you go and inform him. However, put a condition. They will let no one pass the mountain, and they will send men to Lemonwood, where I will head immediately."

Arianne nodded, and after Oberyn left her room, she dressed more properly, and left her room, however leaving trusted guards at the door.

When she reached the great hall, Arianne saw the Lords gathered inside, and once she was seated at the Prince's throne, she said with a high and firm voice, "My lords, my ladies, I'm sorry if I made you wait so long my decision, but it was a very delicate matter that couldn't be decided lightly." She stopped for a moment to take a breath, before continuing, "After a long discussion with my advisors, I have come to the conclusion that the best choice as Prince Consort of Dorne is Ser Cletus of House Yronwood."