[b]Sunspear[/b]

The news came to Qoren on a beautiful day. He had been watching the sun play over the ocean near Sunspear, watching the bustle of the city that clung to the walls of the palace, and the ships flowing to and from the port. A goblet of wine was in his hand, and he sipped, watching his city with a smile on his face. Several steps registered in the vicinity and he heard a male voice cough. Most likely Oberyn, the Maester. He confirmed it a moment later when he said, "My prince. There has been urgent news." It was rare for a man to be assigned to the same family he came from but Qoren had pulled strings to make sure Oberyn went home and not to some foreign nobleman. 

Qoren turned, setting down the goblet, "Aliandra isn't pregnant is she? I knew she was getting too sweet on that Yronwood boy." 

Oberyn lowered his head, "No, my prince. I'm afraid it's much more urgent then that. Your sister heard of grave tidings. She told me to tell you it pertained to the Greens and Blacks." 

Qoren cursed. Those damned Targaryens could never just leave the rest of the world well enough alone with their feuds. When dragons fought, the sheep burned. And the snake was wise to hide. 

He replied, "Call the council together. And have the servants set up wine and food. I sense I'll need a few drinks to get through this." His cousin nodded and retreated. Qoren slipped out of his seat on the balcony and returned to his bedchambers. Larra was out, probably entertaining guests. But she'd come to the meeting, he was sure of it. 

Qoren changed from his simple silk shirt that bared his chest to the world into an ornate golden robe, with the Martell spear and sun on its' back. He stepped out of the room, saber and dagger strapped to his hip, and the guardsmen followed to keep in step with him, his brother Trystayne and Captain of the Guard among them. 

The entourage walked through the Tower of the Sun and to the dull squad fortress that sat in the middle of the palace, the old castle of the Sandship. The great hall and royal apartments may have been found in the Tower of the Sun, but it was the Sandship where meetings of the council were held. Qoren entered the structure that seemed so much like a beached dromond bleached by the sun. 

By the time he entered the council chamber and Trystayne took his place by the door, the rest of them were already there. Uncle Dickon, his Senseschal; Uncle Nymor, the Master-at-arms; Aunt Mariah, the treasurer; his oldest sister Meria, the spymaster; his youngest sister Obara, his justiciar, and Maester Oberyn were all there. Along with his wife Larra Wyl and his mother, Tenya Drahar, the Myrmaid. Though, Myrmatron was more accurate. Not that she would ever hear Qoren say that. 

Many though Tenya didn't belong on the council. That she should enjoy her dotage as his grandfather Dagos does. But Tenya had been Princess Regent while he had been a boy, and helped steer the realm capably. She deserved a place now, even with him leading. Qoren nodded to each and took his seat at the head of the table, looking at Meria first. 

"There are many things I'd much rather be doing than sitting here, so let's get straight to the point. Why did you wish for us to all meet Meria? What's going on in King's Landing?" 

Meria had never married despite their mother's best efforts, and had instead elected to remain in service to Qoren. He suspected that she was carrying on as a paramour to one of his knights however. Not that he knew who, or that he would ever find out. She was the spymaster after all. 

His sister, with her short black hair and wide nut-brown eyes said, "Ravens have flown to all the keeps of the Six Kingdoms from King's Landing to proclaim the news. We were due to be informed within a few days by the Citadel, but my informants in King's Landing spread the word to me. This was a well-kept secret. I didn't hear of it until it had already happened." 

Nymor shook his head and said, "What news? Out with it already." Qoren suspected what she would say next, and his heart jumped. 

Meria replied, "King Viserys has died, likely for quite some days now. And now Aegon sits on the Iron Throne." Everyone was flabbergasted. There was much trading of concerned looks and murmurs while Qoren digested the news, his stomach churning. 

Larra spoke up, "Why should we be concerned of this? Whichever dragon arse sits on that ugly chair should be of no matter to us. This is Dorne, we have no part in this." 

Dickon intoned, "That may be the case for now, but it may very well change. We all know that Rhaenyra will not stand for this. Neither will Daemon." Many shuddered at the mention of the Rogue Prince, whose Blood Wyrm and Dark Sister had sent countless Dornishmen to early graves. 

Oberyn said, "My good cousin is right. There may be war in the north, but we need not take any part." 

Tenya replied harshly, "You're a fool if you think that. Rhaenyra and Aegon will compete to see who holds the crown in the end. And they will call on every avenue of help they can. Expect both of them to send messages to us shortly." 

Nymeria scoffed, "We can tell them no. There is no reason for us to send Dornishmen to die for a foreign war." 

Larra, suddenly realizing the gravity of the situation, cursed, "No, Dickon is right. Whoever holds the Iron Throne may end up being an enemy. Daemon has no love for Dorne of the Triarchy, our closest ally. Should Rhaenyra win, I have little doubt Daemon will seek revenge and use the Iron Throne's armies to do it. He almost destroyed the last army we sent to face him. With the might of six kingdoms behind him, he would be nigh unstoppable." 

That sobered everyone at the table, until Oberyn said, "And Aegon?" 

This time Meria is the one who spoke. The spymaster said, "Aegon has no personal quarrel with Dorne. But plenty of his bannermen do. Those bastards that live in the Red Mountains keep raiding their settlements. And the Triarchy is loved even less for their tolls and piracy. The Stormlanders or the Reachman could convince him to send forces against the Triarchy or us or both. Even if only the Triarchy is targeted, the magisters will expect us to answer a call to arms or else Qoren risks breaking the oath of alliance. If we do nothing, it could very well lead to war, no matter who wins." 

In the silence that followed, Tenya spoke, "So what should we do?" They all looked to Qoren. 

The Prince of Dorne, who remained silent all the while, looked each of them in the eye before saying, "We cannot do nothing. We can hope that the dragons sort out their issues or leave us alone, but we must prepare for the worst. I will raise the banners. All of them. Every house will raise every fighting man and woman they can and fortify their positions. Ready the fleets. For now, we take a defensive stance." 

He looked at Nymor, "Uncle, I give you the title of Lord Marshal and task you with the overseeing of our military readiness. See to it that we stand ready." Nymor nodded. He turned to Oberyn, "Send a message to my cousin Nymeria. Tell her that I name her my Grand Admiral and recall her to Sunspear to oversee the readiness of our ships and to name a new Warden of Ghaston Grey in her place." His cousin voiced his assent. 

Qoren turned to his mother, "Send word to our contacts in the Magister Council of the Three Daughters. Tell them they should prepare as well, should war threaten them. And that we should stand together to face any danger." She agreed. 

Now he spoke to Meria, "Keep me appraised of the situation. I know you have contacts with traders from all around the world. Collect as much information as you can, even rumors and hearsay about the goings on in the rest of Westeros. If it sounds important relay it to me." His sister inclined her head. 

He addressed his aunt Mariah who had been silent thus far, "We may have need of surplus coin, should war arise. I won't raise the taxes but begin an evaluation of the treasury and our financial state, see how much we can bear if war comes. I want this report as soon as possible." 

"As you command, nephew." 

He spoke to Dickon, "Ask my bannermen to come to court to attend me so we may discuss this succession crisis. I wish to assure them that we are doing everything we can to ensure Dorne's well-being under this potential threat." Dickon nodded. 

Qoren spoke to them all, "I hope war doesn't come, but it may be out of our hands. Perhaps not now, perhaps not even this year. But whatever dragon wins may set their eye on Dorne. We must be prepared. I will not declare for any side. But I imagine they will come seeking our aid. I will not be caught unprepared. Now go, you all have a lot of work to do." 

They began filing out, one by one, until only he and Larra were left. 

Larra came to him and stroked his cheek. He held her hand as she said, "If they come to ask our aid, who will you help?" 

Qoren shook his head, "I know not. I don't even know if I will answer such a call. Any path could still lead us to war, and the death of my countrymen. There is little chance this can be avoided." 

Larra stared down at the floor, "You hope for it, don't you?" 

Qoren started to shake his head but Larra said, "No. I know you. You love fighting. You love the violence. The thrill. You say you don't want to fight, but I know that you long to be at war again. For glory, like your father." 

Qoren said nothing, and Larra left him alone.