Chapter 21

Starfall, Dorne

The sea breeze atop the Palestone Tower was a soothing balm against the Dornish heat. Aryan stood at the edge of the balcony, gazing out over the shimmering waters of the Summer Sea. Starfall, the ancestral seat of House Dayne, sat perched atop a rugged cliff, caught between the unyielding Red Mountains and the endless expanse of the ocean. Below, the Torrentine River wound its way through the fertile lands, its waters sustaining the Daynes for generations, allowing them to stand as one of the most powerful houses of Dorne.

His mother had once told him a tale—one he had never forgotten.

"Long ago, a star fell from the heavens, and the first Dayne followed its light," she had whispered to him as a child. "When he reached the place where it had struck the earth, he built his keep upon the very crater it had left behind. That is why we call this place Starfall."

It had been years since he had last stood here, yet the memory remained as vivid as ever.

He had arrived in Starfall just yesterday. The entire Dayne family had gathered at the docks to welcome him, and from there, he had been led into the castle, where he met the Martells and many other highborn of Dorne who had come for the occasion.

Yet despite the warmth of their welcome, his thoughts had been clouded. There was something he had been trying to tell to his mother—something he had know for too long—something she has every right to know.

"You're here."

His mother's voice pulled him from his reverie.

Aryan turned to find his mother standing in the archway. Her deep violet eyes, so much like his own, studied him with quiet affection.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," she said, stepping forward.

Aryan smiled. "I just needed a moment. The breeze reminded me of when you used to bring me here as a child."

She moved to stand beside him, her gaze following his toward the horizon. "You always loved it here," she mused.

A comfortable silence stretched between them before she said, "We were going through the gifts you brought. The jewelry, in particular, was exquisite." She glanced at him. "Your aunt was quite pleased. Though you may have set expectations rather high for the others now."

Aryan chuckled softly. "Anything for my family."

Ashara hummed in amusement, but her smile faded when she noticed the shift in his expression.

"Mother," he began, hesitation creeping into his voice. "There's something I need to tell to you."

Her brow furrowed slightly. "What is it, my son?"

He hesitated for a while before exhaling sharply. "It's about Father. About how he died."

Ashara's expression froze. The air between them grew heavy.

Aryan pressed on, his voice steady despite knowing what he was about to say. "Father was not simply a victim of the Mad King's cruelty. His death was orchestrated."

Ashara's breath hitched. "Aryan—"

"Please, Mother," he interrupted gently. "Just listen."

She fell silent, searching his face.

"Someone deliberately spread the rumor that Aunt Lyanna had been kidnapped by Prince Rhaegar," Aryan said, his jaw tightening. "They knew exactly how Father would react. They preyed on his impulsivity. He was sent to his death—not by chance, but by design."

Ashara's hands trembled at her sides.

"The Mad King may have given the order," Aryan continued, his voice laced with quiet fury, "but it was someone else who led Father into that trap. Someone who either wanter him dead or wanted war."

Then, as his words settled over her, Ashara wept. Aryan said nothing, letting her grieve. and comforting her.

When she finally lifted her head, her face was streaked with tears—but her face was filled with fury.

"Who?" she whispered. Her voice was seething. "Who did this?"

Aryan exhaled. "I still don't know yet. I have pumped more resources into it. This person will be found soon."

Ashara stared at him for a long moment, her breathing uneven. Then she closed her eyes and drew in a steadying breath. When she opened them again, the sorrow had not left her—but something darker had settled in its place.

"You will not kill this person," she said, her voice quiet.

Aryan stiffened. "Mother—"

"You will bring them to me," she interrupted, her tone turning cold "I will not grant them death. No, that would be too merciful. They will suffer. They will know agony, the kind that lingers beyond pain, beyond hope. They will beg for the Stranger's embrace, but he will turn his face away. And the more they long for the end, the more I will deny it." Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "I will keep count of every wound. Every drop of blood. I will strip them of everything, piece by piece, until there is nothing left of them but despair. And when their last breath is ready to leave them, I will hold it in my grasp, just as they held your father's fate in theirs."

Aryan had always known what kind of woman his mother was. Loving, devoted, fiercely protective—willing to go to any lengths for him. To most, that was all she appeared to be. He doubted even his father had glimpsed the other side of her, having spent so little time with her. But he knew. And he suspected the Daynes and Martells did too.

To her, manipulation, deception, poisoning, assassination—even torture—were not sins, but necessities. She had taught him these things at her knee, weaving lessons of survival between her words of affection. He had always known she was capable of ruthless decisions.

But this… this was something else entirely.

This was fury, raw and unchecked. A wrath so consuming it burned like the Dornish sun, scorching everything in its path. He had always known there was darkness within her, but never had he seen it take shape like this—never had he heard such venom in her voice.

And yet, he understood.

He had harbored the same thoughts, the same hunger for revenge. If anything, he had done far worse for lesser crimes.

Aryan said "I promise you, Mother. Their fate belongs to you."

Ashara nodded. But her fists remained clenched, her rage barely contained.

After spending next hour there with her son, she said. "I must go. There are guests to receive."

Aryan watched as she turned and disappeared down the stone steps of the tower.

Only when she was gone did he look back at the horizon. The sun was sinking into the sea, its dying light painting the sky in hues of crimson and gold.

Somewhere out there, the one who had orchestrated his father's death still lived.

But not for much longer.

Aryan continued to look at the sunset.

"Beautiful view isn't it, My Lord?" Came the coy and seductive voice of Arianne Martell.

Aryan turned behind to look at her, "Princess Arianne, a delight to see you." And he kissed her hand.

Now this was someone who Aryan could appreciate. Unlike Margaery, Arianne was built for seduction. Short and buxom, with curves in all right places Arianne was a real Dornish beauty.

Aryan asked her about her father Prince Doran.

"His ailment restricts his movements. So it is difficult for him to travel." She answered.

"I have heard about his ailment but I didn't knew it was this severe. How about you? You are almost of age. Any marriage proposals for the Princess of Dorne." He asked her with a smile knowing the answer.

Arianne's eyes sparkled and spoke in a teasing voice "Oh, I imagine you already know the answer to that question, My Lord. Recently, my father told me of my potential husband."

"Indeed?" Aryan's rose his eyebrow slightly and asked "And who is this fortunate man?"

Arianne's smile widened "You speak as if you don't know."

Aryan couldn't help but smirk at her teasing. "I have a suspicion, but I would like to hear it from you directly. What do you think of this potential husband of yours?"

Her gaze softened as she considered him for a moment. "He is the most handsome man I ever saw, even more so than I had imagined. I have heard only rumors about his character, of course—it's hard to separate truth from lies when it comes to such matters. But what I know for certain is that he loves his family dearly and is fiercely protective of them. I would say that is worth more than all the rumors combined."

Aryan studied her closely "I see. And do you think you could be happy with him?"

She said giving him a smoldering look and said "Do you not think we would make a good pair? A beautiful and passionate woman like me could make sure he would never experience a dull moment in our marriage. Perhaps, with time, we might even come to love each other."

Aryan fought against the sudden desire rising within him, but kept his composure. "Yes, you are right," he said "He would be delighted to have you as his wife. A woman as beautiful and passionate as you, waking up beside him every day. And yes, love may indeed develop in time. But… If you marry this man, you will have to abdicate your position as the next ruler of Dorne and leave Dorne behind. Won't you feel any resentment?"

Arianne's smile faded just slightly "For years, my father seemed more interested in Quentyn and tried to avoid me, only involving me when he had no other choice. Gradually it became clear to me that he wished to pass over me and make Quentyn his heir. At first, I resented it. But then, I accepted it and began focusing on more pleasurable things. I started exploring my sexuality, but whenever I tried to sleep with a man father used to sent them away, at least he didn't sent away women"

She sighed softly "Then, he told me about my possible would-be husband, and it all made sense. Whatever resentment I had toward him faded. With him, I will still hold a position of power. I won't lose anything, as he doesn't believe women to be beneath him. Honestly, I think I may have a better life as his wife than as the Princess of Dorne. My father's ever-watchful gaze has always made me feel like a prisoner. I yearn for freedom. I want change, a fresh start. I've seen a lady of Dorne living happily in my potential husband's lands. I'll have to learn their customs, of course, but with his help and that of his mother, I'm sure it will be easy. I have all the time in the world."

Throughout the conversation, Aryan had been using Legilimency, reading the surface thoughts and emotions of Arianne to verify the truth of her words. As she spoke, he thought to himself, Well, at least she won't resent me for abdicating her position as heir to Dorne and moving to the North. That was my biggest concern about marrying her, and I would have refused the match if I thought she would harbor such resentment.

After thing for a while he spoke in a calm voice "You are right. We can have a happy marriage, if we try. While Prince Doran wants this marriage alliance to make my his ally, for the future conflict, the truth is that I also want Dorne as an ally because we have same enemy. But I could never agree to this marriage if I thought you were against it, or would resent me for it."

Arianne's thought for a while and the her smile returned with caution "If we get married, then I would only resent you in three situations. First, if you treat me badly. Second, while I desire revenge for my aunt, I am not willing to be a sacrifice for that revenge. You must promise me that you will not sacrifice our family for the sake of it. You will not sacrifice our happiness. Third, if you betray me."

Aryan looked her eyes "Arianne, I would never sacrifice my family in any situation. But if you need assurance, if this marriage alliance is agreed upon, I swear on my mother that I will never sacrifice our family and it's happiness. I will always treat you with all the respect you deserve. You will have all the power that comes with being the wife of Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. I will give my best to our marriage. I will never betray you. And all I ask in return is that you do the same and never betray me."

Arianne's eyes got wet, she chuckled softly, and spoke in shaky voice. "I don't have anything sacred like you do, something to swear on, so I don't know how much weight my words will carry. But I promise you this, if we get married Aryan—I will give my best to our marriage, and I will never betray you."

He paused for a while, and then said "If you agree to our match, Arianne, then I will meet with Prince Doran. Till now, he has not said anything directly to me but has hinted heavily in his letters. From what you said, he told you what he wants. So I am asking you once more—do you want this? If you say no, then I will tell him no, and I will not say anything to him about our talks."

Arianne thought for a while then took a deep breath. "It will not be easy," she began, her voice softer now "But after having this conversation with you, my fears have subsided. I am no longer opposed to it. But I ask this of you—if you are not fully willing, if you have any doubts, I need you to say no. Do not agree out of obligation. I do not want a husband that resents me."

Aryan looked at her, his expression softening. He took a step closer, gently placing his palm on her cheek "It seems we are on the same page after all," he said "Before, I would have said no, but after this talk with you, I find that I am at ease. Seeing that both of us are not opposed to it, then I can give it a chance too."

Their tender moment was abruptly shattered when someone cleared their throat. Both of them turned, startled, to see Nymeria Sand standing there, a smirk on her lips.

"Enjoying yourselves, aren't we?" Nymeria said, her tone dripping with amusement, her eyes scanning over Aryan briefly before returning to Arianne. "Father is looking for you, Arianne. Lord Stark, Allyria is looking for you as well."

Arianne muttered something under her breath, "Stupid cousins," but before he could move away, she pulled Aryan roughly back to her, her lips crashing into his in a heated, passionate kiss. Their mouths met urgently, tongues intertwining.

When they finally broke away, both were breathless and slightly disheveled.

Arianne gave him one last, heated look. "Thank you for your time and the talk," she said, her voice low and sultry. Without another word, she turned and walked away.

Just to see what was on her mind, he read her surface thoughts once again. She's a vixen. If they get married, at least he won't have a boring day in bed.

After sometime he went down and had dinner with his family. Following dinner he walked to his room for sleep. When he opened the door he was met by a welcome sight.

"Lord Stark, I thought perhaps you might have need of me tonight." Arianne said with a seductive look in her Septa's dress.

Arianne removed the Septa's dress she was wearing. She stood naked as the day she was born. She said seductively, "Are you going to watch me all night?"

"I am ready for that." Aryan said and closed the distance between them.

Arianne couldn't take it anymore. She put her hands around Aryan's head, and kissed him. Aryan's response was slow, but began passionately kissing her back, pulling her into him. He had waited for her to make the first move. He had learned that Arianne had no qualms in using her feminine viles to get things done for her. A touch here or a coy smile there, men would easily do her bidding. And Aryan refused to be one of her playthings. They broke off.

"I have started to like you. I can believe one talk can change so much." Arianne whispered.

"I am not far behind." He whispered back.

Arianne then removed his clothes. She licked her lips and then hugged him. He could feel every bit of her chest against his, her developed breasts pushed against his chest. This increased his pleasure, making him feel every bit of her, kissing her harder and harder, Arianne responding equally.

"Aryan", she said, panting.

"Yes?", Aryan responded, also breathless.

"Take me now." She whimpered with lust in her eyes.

With Arianne attached to his mouth, he rolled them over, so Arianne was beneath him. Kissing every inch of her from her collar bone, to her nipple, to her hip, Aryan then blew air on her hairy cunt making her shiver. Aryan moved up to her lips and began kissing her again, hard. She responded by pulling him closer to her, Aryan again feeling her breasts against his chest. He moved a hand up to one, and gripped the whole thing gently, and began softly moving it in circles. Arianne stifled a small moan of pleasure as he continued kissing her. He placed his hand between her ribs and her hip, softly grabbing and rubbing. Finally, she broke off. Aryan knew it was time, and moved his erect penis up to the tiny slit that was gently twitching. He moved up, until he was just touching her, and then lay back on top of her. Arianne put her mouth next to his ear, and whispered,

"Slow."

He gently pushed into her, pushed harder, slowly guiding himself into her. Once the tip was in, he place his hands around her shoulders, and slowly pushed into her more. She gasped, as her slit expanded to accompany him, feeling every single bit of him. Arianne was tight, for a virgin. He finally reached her maiden hood. Arianne stopped breathing.

"Go", she whispered.

Aryan pushed, and the barrier gave way, Arianne moaning, a small tear reappearing in her eye.

Aryan hugged her.

After a few moments Arianne whispered,

"Okay"

Aryan slowly moved in and out of her, Arianne unable to breathe.

After a short while, Arianne began moaning with pleasure, unable to control it. Aryan increased the pace, Arianne pulling him back into her. Aryan held between her legs to her waist, her perfect body beginning to convulse with pleasure, her flat and perfect stomach beginning to expand a deflate rapidly, and uncontrollably. Arianne's inner wall began to squeeze and release Aryan as he pushed in and out of her, faster and faster.

Arianne gasped.

"Arianne, I'm going to." He warned.

"Yes, do it, inside me, I will take moon tea" Arianne cut him off.

Aryan didn't want it to end yet. He pulled out of her, and moved off her.

"Aryan?"

"Let's try it this way", Aryan said.

Arianne moved onto her knees, placing her perfect bum in the air, and her slit positioned perfectly for him. Her asshole winked at him. Aryan had a dying urge to stick his cock into her other opening, but resisted, as he decided that the night was still young. He grabbed both her sides this time, and again, pushed into her. She moaned again, and sunk her head, as Aryan slowly increased the pace.

"Oh gods. By the holy mother. Claim your bitch you bloody wolf!"

Arianne began convulsing again, she felt her eyes widen, her stomach rapidly expanding and deflating. Aryan was going faster and faster, and she could feel every bit of him moving in and out of her. It was too much, and she submitted to the dying urge to be overcome by waves of pleasure.

She let out a long moan of pleasure, her body convulsing at impossible speed.

"Faster!", she managed to let out in a breathless whisper.

Aryan, didn't need to be told twice. He pushed all the way into her, and faster than before. She began moaning again, clenching him at the speed her body was convulsing. Aryan was about to cum.

"Arianne, I'm going to."

"Do it!" she said.

Arianne couldn't manage another word, as waves of pleasure rendered her unable to think. Aryan pushed harder, and harder, Arianne began moaning loudly. Arianne could feel another orgasm building, but struggled to hold it, another orgasm would tire her too much. The pleasure built even further as she struggled to think. Finally, Arianne was convulsing below him. Her pussy gripping and releasing Aryan so tight and so fast, Aryan couldn't hold his release. He shot every bit into her. Arianne was shaking, violently. She was enduring incredible euphoria, so strong, she almost passed out.

Only few seconds later, she collapsed onto the bed. Aryan lowered himself next to her, and held her.

"I am tired." Arianne said after some time.

"I heard that Dornish have higher stamina in bed" He goaded his partner.

So with a new found energy she turned them over and sat on his waist saying "I am a Princess of Dorne. I am better than the other in every way."

Then she proceeded to prove her words well into the morning.

____________________________________________________________________

The celebrations were in full swing. The wedding ceremony was over. The feast, dance and music had begun. Aryan had also danced with a few ladies including his Allyria, Arianne and Nymeria. Aryan looked around and saw Arya seemed to in an argument with Edric.

His smile vanished suddenly as he felt a hand in his crotch. The owner of the hand was Arianne who sat between him and Oberyn.

Oberyn answered, "I am not like the others. I have given my daughters freedom for their love and for their weapons and encouraged Arianne too."

Arianne was now rubbing his cock and Aryan was desperate to control himself.

Oberyn continued, "I am sure you enjoyed your time with my neice. She was rather pleased with your performance. I could easily tell from her face. It was that of a truly satisfied woman."

"She gave me a detailed description of your lovemaking. " Nymeria added which seemed to encourage Arianne instead of stopping her.

"People forget that I am half Dornish who was raised by a Dornish." Aryan said with a smirk to which Oberyn laughed and said "Most of the people would not like to admit that part about Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North."

Seeing as Arianne was not going to stop, he used his occlumency to control his arousal. His cock went down which seemed to surprise Arianne. After some time she removed her hands while giving him puzzled looks.

"The bedding ceremony." Lord Dayne suddenly announced. The crowd cheered and started to lead the blushing bride and groom to their bed chambers.

"Are they fucking?" Arya asked sitting back in her seat looking at the bride and groom as they were taken.

Aryan choked in his wine while Arianne gaped at her. Oberyn started to laugh out loud.

"Where did you hear that?" Aryan asked while Arianne helped him wiping his face of the spiller wine.

"I have heard our guards talking about it. One day I saw mother jumping up and down in father's lap one day too." Arya said.

"I like her and can see what Tyene see in her. She is quite unlike other girls of her age." Oberyn said. Then looking at the door said, "Look who has graced us with his presence."

A man with silver hairs with black stripe in between came towards the high table. The Darkstar has arrived.

"I apologise for my delay My Lord. There was an urgent and unavoidable situation at High Hermitage that needed my attention." Gerold stated to Lord Dayne with a fake smile.

"Enjoy the feast Gerold. We will talk about this later." Lord Dayne said in a clipped voice.

Taking a glass of wine from a passing servant boy Gerold walked over to the Martells and greeted them. Oberyn ignored him, but the Darkstar lingered around Arianne for some time, Ashara also ignored him, and then he shifted his attention to Aryan.

With a malicious glint in his eyes he mocked, "Lord Stark, what an unpleasant surprise. I cannot say I am glad to meet you."

"The feeling mutual Gerold." Aryan replied.

"Your life in the barren and cold North among the savages who worship the ridiculous tree gods seems to agree with you.' Gerold said trying to goad Aryan.

"Yes they made me strong. In return I made the North strong. Thank you for asking?" Aryan smiled.

Gerold frowned as his attempt to goad Aryan failed. So he tried again, "Still I cannot understand how cousin Ashara could spread her legs for an idiot like Brandon. There were so many proper Lords here."

Everyone in the entire hall had fallen silent. Some aghast, some horrified. Ashara was trembling with rage, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, while Oberyn leaned forward slightly, his gaze locked onto Aryan. To most, Aryan looked calm—too calm—but Oberyn and Ashara could see the truth. There was murder in his eyes.

Gerold's fate was sealed. Aryan had decided not to kill him kill him outright, not here. That would be too easy. Instead, he would make a statement, ensuring that everyone in the room understood exactly what happened when someone dared to insult his mother.

Without a word, he stood and strode toward Gerold. Gerold barely had time to react before Aryan's fist crashed into his face. A sickening crunch echoed through the hall as Gerold's head snapped back, blood spurting from his nose.

Aryan didn't stop.

Another punch. Then another. And another. The sound of dull thuds of knuckles against flesh filled the room as Gerold staggered, barely able to stay on his feet. But Aryan wasn't finished. He grabbed Gerold by his hair, yanking his head forward before slamming it against the stone wall.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

A gruesome crack sounded on the fourth impact, and Gerold slumped against the wall, blood was running freely down his face. His dazed, unfocused eyes flickered in and out of consciousness, but Aryan had no mercy to spare.

"Enough!" Alric's voice rang through the hall, but Aryan didn't even acknowledged it.

Two brutal kick to his knees forced the joint in the opposite direction with an audible snap. Gerold screamed, his body was convulsing in pain, but before he could collapse completely, Aryan struck again—two brutal kick, this time to his arm. The elbow bent the wrong way with an audible snap.

Gerold crumpled to the floor and lost conciousness.

Aryan exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders before stepping back, with loathing in his eyes he looked down at the broken man before him.

The maesters would tend to him. They would work to heal him. And in the quiet of his recovery, when anyone would least expect it, the poison would do its work. By the time it was over, no one would be able to prove a thing.

Arianne pulled Aryan back to his seat as the guards rushed in to drag Gerold away, his broken body leaving a trail of blood on the stone floor. The hall was still deathly silent.

Aryan exhaled, running a hand through his hair before glancing at the gathered crowd. "I had always wanted to do that since I was a child," he remarked dryly. Some chuckled nervously, others remained frozen unsure how to react.

Turning toward his uncle and mother, Aryan inclined his head. "Uncle, Mother, I think I will retire for the night now. But please, continue your celebrations."

His gaze then found The Blackfish. "Ser Brynden, see to it that Arya gets back to her chambers safely."

The knight gave a curt nod before escorting Arya away, though she kept glancing back at Aryan. Aryan offered her a brief reassuring smile before making his way toward the exit. But just as he was about to step away, a gentle yet firm grip caught his hand.

"I would like to accompany you, my lord," Arianne said with her smouldering eyes.

Aryan was no longer in the mood for sex, and he had more pressing matters to tend to. He gently brushed her away. "I am very tired, Princess. I would desperately love to catch my sleep. Perhaps next time."

Arianne sighed, stepping closer so that only he could hear her next words. "I just want to be there for you. Not just in that way."

He thought. If I didn't have a murder to plan, I'd take the time to talk to her But there were things that needed to be done. He leaned in slightly and spoke "I will meet you in the morning."

With that he turned and strode away.

As he walked through the dimly lit corridors of Sunspear, his mind shifted to the task ahead. The poison has been decided—Tears of Lys, subtle and almost untraceable. It would do its work while Gerold was recovering from his wounds. No one would suspect. But then, as he stepped into a long, empty passageway, something felt... off.

There were two guards posted in corridor. That wasn't unusual. But something about them didn't sit right. Aryan's instincts, honed over two lifetimes, screamed at him. His pace slowed as he observed them carefully. They lacked the distinct Dornish features.

Then, realization struck—too late.

The sound of steel being unsheathed sliced through the silence. Aryan spun just in time, narrowly avoiding the first assassin's blade aimed at his throat. But the second assassin was faster, and Aryan gritted his teeth as a sharp sting cut across his chest, warm blood soaking into his tunic.

Damn it!

He dodged and weaved, his body moving on pure instinct. The assassins pressed their attack, forcing him back, their strikes precise and deadly. He glanced around—no witnesses.

Good.

With a flick of his wrist, his wand was in his hand. A jet of green light burst forth. The first assassin's body crumpled lifelessly before it even hit the floor. But the second one took advantage of the momentary distraction, his blade slicing into Aryan's chest again.

Pain flared, but Aryan gritted his teeth.

I have to end this now.

He feinted left, dodging another strike, then twisted his wand toward the second assassin.

"Avada Kedavra."

The spell hit its mark, and the man dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.

Aryan let out a breath, his heart still pounding. He glanced down at his wounds, already healing slowly. In times like this he wishes apparating wasn't so taxing south of the neck

"You messed with the wrong person," he muttered darkly.

He didn't linger. The last thing he needed was to be found standing over two dead bodies. Swiftly, he slipped away, making his way back to his chambers. As soon as he collapsed onto his bed, exhaustion finally claimed him, and he drifted into a deep sleep.

Two Days Later

Aryan had spent the past two days trying to uncover the identity of those who had sent the assassins. He had scanned the minds of several individuals, but whoever was behind the attack had covered their tracks well. Frustratingly well. After finding the bodies of those two assassins his uncle had put the whole castle on lockdown. That was another mess.

At least the Tears of Lys had been given to Gerold.

His fate was sealed.