The wedding between Myrcella and Trystane finally took place and it was a very memorable event. While it was the usual wedding under the Seven, there was this difference because the couple was actually in love and happy; and the people around were far more cheerful.
The clothing everyone wore was that of Dornish style, even the big guests could not escape it; not that many minded.
Margaery simply loved the dress, the colours and the texture; wishing to take some with her back to Westeros. Tommen was the most awkward, not used to such clothing but an encouraging smile and a compliment from his queen; and he learnt to accept it.
Trystan and Jaime were in a similar position, with Jaime minding it even less. Instead, he took some pride in wearing it and was glad to wear something with more movement and that was not the usual leather jackets that Lannister men wore.
All the jackets had a rather open V and Jaime did not mind copying Oberyn; choosing not to wear a tunic beneath and simply letting his fit chest be exposed. He still felt some of his old pride as a result of the eyes of women that fell on him, although now there was no cockiness behind it.
Trystan, on the other hand, had worn a tunic from within and kept ensuring that his jacket was closed. He had earned the attention of many women throughout his stay, two coming from the Sand Snakes; surprisingly.
Of course, he only replied with mannered charming smiles for in his mind; there was only one girl he would rather talk and spend time with; Sansa.
There was still no news of her but Trystan kept hoping that she was safe, somewhere and was even planning to reclaim her home. He went as far as to pray in the Sept, although he did feel that perhaps the Valyrian Gods would be more willing to listen.
The feast was a big event with music and sweet Dornish wine being all around them. People mingled between them, danced and drank and generally had fun; no true need for formalities and fake smiles.
Even Prince Doran had made an appearance, still trapped in his wheelchair but he looked genuinely happy for his son. He properly met all of his guests and then joined his wife, son and good-daughter at the main table where Oberyn and Ellaria also sat.
More and more people got up to dance, including Tommen with Margaery and Trystane with Myrcella. The Dornish boy was holding her carefully, always minding her swollen belly but one could easily see from the look they gave one another; that they were truly charmed by one another.
One could go as far as to say they had fallen in love.
The two lions and the dragon were watching from their table, their plates empty and their goblets being refilled each time they emptied them. They seemed to enjoy the festivities nonetheless, the music different from what they were used to and so were most dances; but there was joy and happiness the same all around it.
Their eyes were on Myrcella and her husband, seeing them dancing so sweetly; both too innocent as every child should be.
"They do seem like one of the best matches that could happen," Trystan commented, proud that his niece was growing up.
Although he did feel old seeing her with a baby bump and now pregnant when only a few years ago she was a shy little girl, who hung on his leg and asked him to read her bedtime stories at night. He could not believe how fast time had passed but with everything that had taken place in the last 3 years, one could not truly blame him.
Visenya nodded her head, her goblet held in her hand.
"They do but the age also helps. The closer they are, the easier it can be to match," she commented and sipped some sweet Dornish wine, knowing she would miss it back at King's Landing.
Jaime glanced at her since he was sitting at her far right with Trystan between them.
"What's their age difference?"
She thought for a moment, one finger tapping the side of her goblet.
"Around three years, he is older than her," she said and a rather amusing thought popped into her mind. "At least he is not younger than his wife like my first betrothed."
Her joke and also confession shocked the two boys, who looked at her; with confusion as well.
"Father is younger than you?" Jaime asked first while Trystan was trying to mentally count their ages, pulling a confused face as he tried to do the math in his mind but failing rather dramatically.
She chuckled faintly, smiling at the funny sight of her younger son.
"No, you two," she corrected them. "Your father is older than me by eight years. Plus, we never really got officially betrothed. The decree was signed and the marriage happened sometime later."
Jaime smirked, an idea popping into his mind but also a joke; one that he chose to share with them.
"Who was the unfortunate one that was supposed to marry you?" he asked, earning a sharp look from his good-mother, but one could see the amusement twinkling in her amber eyes.
Before she could reply, Oberyn joined them.
"She is the unfortunate one for losing such a catch," he said and sat by the empty chair next to Visenya, grabbing a random goblet left on the table.
His comment might have sounded random at first but the two lions had fragments of information scattered here and there in their minds. Like the rumours at the wedding feast after Margaery married Tommen or this odd interest Oberyn had with Visenya.
Their eyes widened once they both came to the same conclusion, bearing almost matching expressions; staring at her.
"Mother, were you and Prince Oberyn... betrothed?" Trystan asked, just to make sure he had the right idea.
She nodded.
"Yes, for a small amount of time but I managed to eventually change that," she explained.
"I still believe she somehow regrets that decision," the Dornish Prince commented, making her roll her eyes at his cheeky smile.
Jaime blinked slowly, processing everything.
"I thought Rhaegar was the only candidate," he voiced his thoughts.
"I made him a candidate and suggested him for Elia, to compromise for turning down Oberyn."
As per usual, the Red Viper wished to comment and remain part of the discussion; a rather active part to be more precise. He focused on Trystan.
"If she hadn't changed it, you had the chance to be born a royal and in Dorne. Of course, you would also look far better and be way more charming."
Visenya rolled her eyes, again.
"You would also have multiple siblings that you would eventually lose track of," she commented, a smirk forming on her lips. "That is of course, if I didn't get to him first."
Oberyn turned his body more sideways and the two of them locked their gazes.
"Come on, Princess. You wouldn't risk harming this," he said and motioned to himself, although it was evident what he was truly talking about.
Her smirk remained.
"I am not a woman that shares her man."
She amused him and drank some wine.
Trystan, who had started to make more connections in his mind; focused on the two of them.
"That explains why there is this informality between the two of you," he said, earning their attention.
His mother lowered her goblet, choosing to correct him.
"Not really. Prince Oberyn is generally like that, informal and speaks his mind. I have simply found that it's a loss of time and a waste of effort to try and correct him."
"Are you calling my compliments and sweet words a loss of time?" he asked with a fake hurt expression on his face, showing that he was in a mood to just be dramatic.
Jaime joined the conversation.
"Does Father know about... this?" he asked, one finger silently motioning between the two of them.
"I had to tell him eventually, after the fiasco at the wedding feast," she explained and sent a side glare at the grinning Oberyn.
The music that was played changed, now a slightly more upbeat one.
Many joined for a dance, picking random partners to dance with while Myrcella had sat down; already tired due to the extra weight of the baby.
Margaery and Tommen were also returning to the table, both slightly out of breath but with smiles on their faces. At the same time, the Dornish Prince extended his hand in an all too familiar manner.
"Will you join me for a dance, Princess?" he asked and she eyed him carefully.
He offered his most charming smile.
"I promise no tricks this time."
She shook her head but she could not hide that small smile on her face.
She left her goblet on the table and placed her hand into his.
"You won't accept a no for an answer, will you?"
"You should know me by now," was his reply as the two of them stood up.
Visenya had worn a Dornish dress, one of the many given to her by Ellaria. This one was simpler but still was very beautiful.
It was in the colours of a slightly darker shade of orange, matching the one of the setting sun and it only had one shoulder covered. The other was bare and so were the arms, since the dress was sleeveless.
The material was very loose, falling gracefully around her body and reaching all the way to her ankles while 3D designs could be found around the waist, created by a unique and intricate work of golden-coloured thread.
The two of them walked behind the table and eventually joined the others as the dances continued. The music was slightly faster and Oberyn was guiding her, although Visenya was one of a quick mind.
She observed the women around her and him, quickly catching up with the basic steps. It was a dance she did not know but felt a small smile on her lips at the feeling, the wine also playing a part in all of that.
She kept looking at him and he was looking at her, sharing a smile as the two of them danced as if they were twenty years younger and they were their young selves during their very first meeting in the Red Keep.
While this was happening, Visenya was silently being observed by her two sons; who started to notice certain things and changes, while having similar thoughts on certain matters.
"Is it me or does she seem... happier, here?" Trystan asked in a hushed tone, eyes not once leaving his dancing mother.
His brother was silent for a moment, clearly thinking about it.
Both, though, in the end, took notice of the same thing.
Their mother did look to smile more naturally and they were not blind either. They could see that the place was made for her. In Dorne, she was free to ride horses all day, spar and battle and generally she had her chance to be herself; not a pretender of a highborn woman for the sake of appearances.
"She does, doesn't she?" Jaime passively agreed with his mood changing as he thought of something else. "She is not like that around Father," he pointed out.
Yet, Trystan did not seem to agree with him on this.
"I think she is, we just don't see... They are not allowing us to see it," he corrected himself. "You saw it yourself with the kiss and even told me, that they have feelings for one another and it is clear that she loves our father greatly."
"I know but... I can't help but think what if she would be happier with Oberyn," he asked, earning a confused look from his younger brother. "I mean... she was forced to give up the throne, her birthright just to marry Father. Even after she married him, she still had to restrict her freedom. I shouldn't even mention the number of enemies she obtained because of him or that she remained trapped in that toxic court."
Trystan parted his lips to argue but stopped, as he processed better what Jaime had told him. He could not truly disagree because his older brother was making a very valid point. Sure, their mother had them and she loved her husband... but what of the things she had to suffer through because of them?
They had never thought of it before, not truly but somehow the past events made them see everything differently. From the relationship with their parents to the personal weight their mother carried, an invisible load that she did not share or let anyone see.
That load, they could not even truly see it, until they arrived at Dorne.
Here, she was a different woman. There was this glow in her eyes, her lips forming natural smiles and Oberyn made sure to tease but amuse her multiple times per day.
She was a happier woman; one might go as far as to say. Perhaps that was her in the past, when her family was still alive and she had not passed through the hells she did to reach where she was now.
Visenya's Temporary Chambers, Old Palace - Nightfall
Visenya was sitting behind her desk, still dressed in the same clothes she had chosen for the feast. Her feet were annoying her since Oberyn had made sure to dance with her for quite a while and she did have a small migraine from all that sweet wine.
Yet, a smile was on her face from the moment she entered the room; until a Lannister soldier delivered her a fresh message from Tywin.
Then, after reading it, she felt the need to sit down; any good mood she had long gone.
It was a summarized detail of the Dance of Dragons, now that it had ended and the results were known.
Young Griff or Aegon, as he called himself, was dead and most people that supported him too. Some of Daenerys' followers in Essos had sided with him at first and then paid the price at the hands of the young Dragon.
Daenerys, herself, was injured but she was alive; eventually would recover and be active in her ruling and conquest. She had lost men in battle, and her army was now reduced in numbers but she did have all three of her dragons; although they had also been harmed and needed time to heal.
The worst aftermath, one might say, was the cities in Essos. They were the battlefield for this dance and now many were still covered by dragon flame. Famous castles and buildings were destroyed; innocents perished under Dragonfire, rubble of fallen buildings or were caught in the crossfire.
Tywin also mentioned that their trading with Essos was suffering as well since the ports and the ships were destroyed; the majority of them and so were the most tradable goods.
Visenya let out a heavy sigh and leaned back on the chair, before covering her face with her hands. There were so many conflicted emotions going wild within her at that moment, that she felt her stomach turning from the intense battle.
She did not have the hot flushes she used to, all of them gone ever since that dream of the green dragon; but that did not mean that her own emotional state was not affecting her body and passively, her health.
She was happy that Daenerys was alive; she was not going to lie. As much as she wished for the girl not to harm the lions, Visenya could not truly live with herself if she knew she had caused the death of her sister's child.
Blood runs thick in our family, she thought; a motto she had heard many times from both her father and also her grandfather. It was something that was said to explain the Targaryens that always sided with Targaryens, even if two different groups ended up being formed.
It was referring to the honour of the Blood of the Dragon, which meant they would stick with their own. It was why siblings sided with parents or cousins rushed to join the battle for their family; although they had no true reason to do so other than sharing the same blood.
She prayed mentally at that moment, that the boy was indeed a pretender and not Rhaegar's son; for she could not truly add kinslayer to her titles. She would much prefer Kingslayer if she had no choice, which in a way she did after poisoning Robert's wine.
One should not mention the guilt she felt, at all the destruction and death she caused; upon innocents in Essos. Sure, during the war against the Riverlands; she had harmed innocents passively but that never meant she felt proud of it.
Especially when she knew that in Essos, the biggest percentage were slaves; who already had a terrible life and now died while their precious masters abandoned them and tried to save themselves.
She could not help but think of Tyrion and what he would think of her if he found out. Considering how he reacted when he learnt of the Red Wedding, she could just imagine how disappointed he would be and she was not going to blame him either.
How low I have fallen indeed, she thought to herself. This was a phrase that had been torturing her for months now; ever since the Purple Wedding.
That cursed Purple Wedding... all those bad things took place right after it. Things were not that challenging before it.
She lowered her hand slightly and looked at the letter on her desk with tired eyes. She was mentally exhausted playing that stupid game, now having to think and plan and act in a way to protect both sides of her family.
Her shoulders were stiff from tension and sometimes she wondered, what would she do if she stopped having Trystan, Jaime and Tywin in her life. Would she end it all and save the world from herself?
She is cursed to bring death with her wherever she goes, like her predecessor.
The words of the Wood Witch now felt more and more accurate in her mind. All she had done was to bring death either to her family or innocent ones, and deep down she knew it.
Perhaps I am cursed and the world would have been better without me, she thought.
She was snapped from her deep and dark thoughts by a knock on her door.
She blinked and glanced at it as Jaime entered. He was clearly visiting for something but never spoke about it, for he immediately took notice of her crushed expression.
"Good-mother, what happened?" he asked as he closed the door and walked her way, a dreadful feeling in his gut that some very serious and depressing news was about to follow.
For a moment he was worried that something had happened to Cersei or his father and when she handed him the letter; he scanned it in a hurry. Once he realized it had nothing to do with a loved one, he focused more on it.
At the same time, she confessed to him the full truth. Jaime did not judge her when he found out about the Red Wedding and honestly, she felt he was the only one she could truly trust at that moment.
She did not wish for Trystan to know anything, too scared that her actions would push him away; the same way they did with Tyrion. Her son was young, rather innocent and looked up to her.
How could she let him know what she had done and the innocent lives she took?
Jaime, at least, had been in a similar situation. He had seen things, passed through hells of his own and understood some things better.
When she was done confessing, he looked at her; as he sat across from her with the desk between them. It was evident in his green eyes that he did not judge her and was only surprised by the extreme nature of her actions.
Yet, he could see that it was all done to protect them.
"Monster, am I?" she questioned, glancing at him with that tired expression as she leaned back on the chair.
He shook his head in denial.
"No, you are not. You did what you had to do, to protect us all."
She scoffed faintly, barely managing a small smile at his encouraging and comforting words.
"I do hope, when I eventually reunite with my family; that they will think the same," she said, her attempt at a joke turned dark rather quickly.
Jaime looked at her, seeing her look focusing on the distance but he could still see how drained she was. It was crazy how happy and carefree she was a few hours ago at the feast, and now questioned her own decisions and was once again burdened with more things than she should have to deal with.
One might even go as far as to question, just how long would she manage to hold and carry all that before collapsing because of their weight.
He would not lie if he said he did not feel guilty because at that moment Jaime truly understood just how much she had done for them. The talk with Trystan had helped shed some more light and right now, Jaime was not sure how much he wished to think about it but he could not help it.
His good-mother had given up everything for them.
She sacrificed her happiness and her freedom for them. By marrying Tywin, she gave up her birthright and became a mother to three children; two of whom did not truly appreciate her as much as they should.
If that was not all, she had to eventually leave the peace she had at Casterly Rock and instead return to King's Landing. And why? Because they had messed everything up, Cersei and Joffrey especially; and it was up to her to handle everything and fix it.
Worse was the fact that no one would ever truly know of her sacrifices, of the things she did and how far she was willing to go to protect the Lions; putting them above everything including her own niece and of course, herself.
If many were to find out, he knew they would come after her; against her actions and not once respecting the mental will she forced herself to have to handle all of this.
"They will understand, I am sure of that," he said, extending his hand above the desk to place it upon her own. A sad smile was on his face, not liking seeing her in such a state and knowing he could truly do nothing to help her. "Remember what you once told me? When I asked you about my mother and what she would think of me now that I had become a Kingslayer?"
She placed her free hand on top of his, looking fully into his eyes. She remembered that day, clearly as if it had happened only yesterday.
It was the day she had found him during Cersei's wedding and asked him about the murder of her brother. After Jaime confessed and she comforted him, never angry at him; he had asked her about that; about what his true mother would think of him.
"I do and I told you she would still be proud, for saving the realm and your father; at the sacrifice of your honour," she told him, her thumb caressing his skin.
"Then I am telling you that they would think the same. Your family is the primary image of how far someone goes to protect their loved ones," he said, making her chuckle faintly; because she knew he was right.
"I will not argue with that thinking," she said, not once looking away from him.
It was times such as those that she was thankful she had Jaime in her life. Tywin could be a strong anchor for her, a reminder that she could handle it and continue; that it just had to be done.
Trystan reminded her that there was still good within her and was also her reminder, to be the best mother she could for him and all of his siblings; and any other child she would encounter.
Jaime, though... he seemed to truly empathize with her and she with him. He did not judge her and there was this comfort, the one she could accept and she knew it was not fake nor it was given under the disguise of lies she had told.
She managed to pull herself out of those thoughts since a fact remained.
"Jaime, you chose to visit me and I know it was not because you magically sensed my second thoughts," she said and leaned slightly forward, so she would not have to keep her arm too extended and let it rest on top of his. "Was there something you wished for us to talk about?"
The Lion cleared his throat and focused on their hands for a moment, feeling how her thumb was caressing his skin in a comforting manner.
"I spoke with Myrcella and told her the truth... about her parentage," he confessed, finally mastering the courage to look at her.
"And? How did she take it?"
A small smile formed.
"She... said she knew, somehow," he answered her. "And she hugged me, still happy that I am her family; whether that is as her uncle or as her father."
The news seemed to make the situation lighter, brighter even.
"She has your kindness, just as Tommen has. But above all, I can see she has your understanding and I know she will make a difference here; and truly be happy," she said, somehow suspecting that he was generally worried about her being away from her family; now pregnant nonetheless.
He was thankful for her words and he nodded his head, truly holding on to them to ease any of his worries and second thoughts.
"I truly hope so," he commented and squeezed her hand, a silent sign that in the end; they were a Lion Pride and they were always there for one another.
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[A/N] If you have truly stayed with this story for over 120 chapters, then you already understand what kind of tale this was meant to be.
Not a rushed fantasy.
Not a hollow power trip.
Not a story built only for quick gratification.
From the very beginning, I wanted this to feel like a genuine journey through Westeros — filled with politics, ambition, loyalty, betrayal, consequences, and slow-burning relationships shaped over time rather than forced overnight.
A world where choices carry weight.
Where victories cost something.
Where characters must live with the outcomes of their actions.
This story was written with patience, care, and genuine respect for the world that inspired it.
And now… we are entering the final stretch.
So if this journey has meant something to you — if these characters, conflicts, and relationships managed to stay with you through hundreds of thousands of words — then I would truly appreciate an honest review, rating, or comment before the end.
Support from readers helps this story more than most people realize, and it allows new readers to discover it as well.
Thank you for walking this long road with me.
The game is nearing its final move.