Chapter 131 – Warhammer Slays the True Dragon
The procession passed through three iron gates, each portcullis clanking shut behind them, cutting off the cheers and shouts of the people.
Led by the Princess of Dorne and King Aerys II Targaryen, the lords, nobles, knights, and courtiers entered the Old Palace of Sunspear.
The Princess of Dorne and King Aerys II walked side by side into the Old Palace, after which the Dornish and guests automatically formed two lines. Rhaegar had to offer his arm to Princess Elia Martell—it was a point of etiquette. The girl was delicate and sickly, pretty but not stunning, quite unlike the Tyroshi girl Shireen or the Baratheon girl Roberta he had met before.
Although the Dornish ruling family still spent most of their time at the Water Gardens, the Old Palace was clearly the more formal setting. Inside were the Throne Room, the Great Hall, and other state rooms.
Rhaegar followed the Princess of Dorne and the Prince of Dragonstone up the long stone steps of the Tower of the Sun. Slanting sunlight through the thick colored glass archway warmed the pale marble.
Ahead walked Prince Doran Martell and his wife, Rhaegar with Princess Elia on his arm, and Prince Oberyn Martell with a Dornish noblewoman. All were young heirs—though in truth Prince Doran was no longer young, much older than his siblings, rather gloomy and fond of neither swordplay nor song. Among the Dornish, Doran was less popular than the passionate, combative Red Viper, Oberyn, who was stronger, fiercer, and full of fire.
Rhaegar noticed Areo Hotah, the guardsman with his long ash-handled axe, silent as a mountain. Hotah stood on the Dornish side, while Ser Barristan Selmy stood on the Iron Throne's side, a perfect echo. Prince Doran's wife had considerable influence in Norvos; otherwise she could never have secured so loyal an axe-bearer.
On the dais stood two identical thrones, differing only in their heraldry: one bore the golden spear of House Martell, the other the blazing sun of the Rhoynar.
The company lingered in the Great Hall, chatting while they waited for sunset, when the grand banquet would begin in the Throne Room.
King Aerys II looked pleased and energetic, and began outlining his plans to the Princess of Dorne.
"Your realm is vast and beautiful, yet the desert is an eyesore. I have a grand idea: we can transform the Rainwood Desert. We'll dig a canal through the Red Mountains, divert northern water south, and turn all Dorne into lovely farms and orchards."
"A magnificent plan, Your Grace, but we Dornish could hardly support such a vast undertaking," the Princess of Dorne replied. She knew Aerys well and humored him.
"Money is no problem. Once we control the Stepstones and the Bloodstone customs, gold will pour in," King Aerys II boasted. Many glanced sideways at that, yet knowing his nature, they took it as mere bragging.
Lord Tywin Lannister clearly scoffed but did not expose him. Tywin was a man of cold rationality—excellent at getting things done, equally excellent at doing ruthless things.
Watching Aerys, Rhaegar inexplicably thought of ancient emperors who dreamed grandly but accomplished little—hardly the stuff of kings. In time Aerys might earn the nickname "the Dreamer," yet royal protocol forbade such talk. Still, this was hardly the first time the king had spouted empty plans; within a month he would forget these grandiose schemes and seize upon the next.
Rhaegar could list several: build a second Wall beyond the first to claim another hundred leagues; raise a mighty fleet to make the Titan of Braavos kneel; erect a pure-white marble city on the southern bank of the Blackwater Rush.
When the sunlight faded, lamps within the Throne Room blazed, transforming the space into a glittering banquet hall.
First the Princess of Dorne offered a toast to King Jaehaerys II Targaryen in distant King's Landing.
"My lords and ladies, let us drink to the King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Jaehaerys the Second!"
All rose and clinked cups, the clear ring as stirring as the brilliant red wine within—fine Dornish summer red, hot and sweet with a hint of perfume.
Seven courses were served, each honoring one of the Seven. The dishes included lemon-egg soup, long peppers stuffed with cheese and onion, lamprey pie, honey-roasted capon, and prime valley steak from the Red Mountains.
Dorne has both seashore and mountains, so its cuisine is varied.
The most extreme offering was Dornish snake soup, a delicacy rarely touched elsewhere but adored here—roasted snake and snake broth alike. The soup stews seven kinds of snake meat with dragon peppers, blood oranges, and a hint of venom over a low flame. Rhaegar found it searingly hot.
After the soup came frozen blood-orange sorbet to cool the tongue. For dessert each guest received a Bloodstone-shaped marshmallow filled with sweet custard and bits of plum and cherry.
"I marched at the head of tens of thousands, traveled a thousand leagues, wiped out pirates, and brought the Three Daughters to their knees. Never in the realm's history has a war been ended so swiftly and cleanly," boasted King Aerys II, though many only smiled and let the king keep his good humor.
"Congratulations on your great victory in the field," the Princess of Dorne flattered.
"Of course, it also relied on my son and the front-line soldiers. Directing the rear was hard work, but the men at the front had it harder."
"A toast to the Iron Throne's splendid triumph!"
Rhaegar raised his cup with the rest, and joy filled the hall. It was a feast of merriment and peace, and peaceful years are good years.
All savored the food; even when the Dornish snake soup set mouths and noses ablaze, the nobility still relished it, for eating it displayed status.
After the banquet the guests lingered to chat in the vast, cool hall—not as fine as the Water Gardens, but acceptable.
"You should read these two books, Your Grace." Prince Oberyn Martell stepped to Rhaegar's side; the sudden gift left the prince pleasantly startled.
Rhaegar glanced at the volumes—both about King Daeron I Targaryen, the Young Dragon. One, Born a True Dragon, was penned by a devoted squire; the other, Conquest and Ruin, by a Dornishman. A legend who died to Dornish rebellion and treachery.
"The same man wears a different face in every heart. To most, the Young Dragon's war was a heroic stage; to some Dornish, the boy's game destroyed him. Yet steel snaps when too hard—truth. Hero or tragedy lies only in one's choices, especially for a Targaryen. A humbler king might fare better." Oberyn spoke truly.
Rhaegar nodded, sensing advice between the lines—urging restraint, not madness. Oberyn was no mere fighter; he had studied in Oldtown and stood out among knights who loved only the ring of steel.
"Thank you, Prince. Alas, I came in haste and have no gift for you," Rhaegar replied.
"If I may beg a gift, let it be luck. They say you're the fortunate prince, bringing fortune to King Jaehaerys II, Lord Jon Arryn, the whole realm. If possible, let that luck touch my sister and mend her health. I've read tomes and asked maesters, yet a womb-weak sickness is hard to cure." Oberyn's gaze dimmed as he looked at Princess Elia Martell beside their mother.
"It will be well, Prince," Rhaegar said; such true feeling easily moves the heart.
"It will, Oberyn." Prince Doran Martell joined them, having heard the wish, and sorrow flickered across his face; of the three siblings, only Oberyn enjoyed sound health.
"I would ask a gift of you as well, Prince Doran."
"Speak, my prince," Doran replied, surprised.
"I would cross blades with your guard."
Doran's face clouded. He feared not just for Rhaegar—mighty though he was—but for Areo Hotah, formidable in his own right. He recalled the old tale: "The Warhammer slew the true dragon."
What began as rumor grew with each retelling, recalling the trial of seven at Ashford, where Prince Maekar Targaryen's warhammer accidentally killed his brother, Prince Baelor Breakspear.
A longaxe is no hammer, yet it is still a weapon of brute strength—best kept at a distance.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you like the story please give it some power stones and reviews. And if you want to read 40+ advance chapters or just want to support me please join my patreon at [email protected]/Translatingfanfics