*𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒓𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕

name:  riyansh martell

nickname:  ry, ansh

title:  prince of drone

age:  thirty five years old

birthdate:  december 16th, 105

house:  martell

region:  drone

𝑭𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚.

father:  nymor martell

mother:  aahna dayne ( deceased )

step-mother:  allyria yronwood 

siblings:  eleyana, loreza, nymeria martell

wife:  tba

lover:  tba

“If that man did not share the blood of my kin, the matter would’ve been dealt with long before he had the chance to make such a mockery of us.” Riyansh stated with all the agitation and rage he’d kept bottled for the sake of keeping his calm. Though Ryon Blackmont had put his patience to the test yet again, his indiscretions were easier forgiven within Dornish borders, though so far from him surrounded by new found allies when it had been most paramount to present a unified front it simply was intolerable. “I have resolved that it would best for everyone if Blackmont is kept away from any further communications with the Reach, as he’s proven time and time again that he can not keep his head in matters.” In the matters of their realm and most others we well there as no one else Riyansh shared the inner most workings of his mind with than Asra. His cousin, his best friend, his brother by every stretch, no one knew him longer or better.

An otherwise productive evening had come undone in a matter of minutes. The heated exchange between the Dornishmen would likely to be remembered long after the remembrance  agreeable and cordial exchange that was had prior to between the Dornish and Reachmen. He had severely underestimated Blackmonts uncaring for propriety, he had expected displeasure though not in front of the outsiders, not so unabashedly. And in that he would take the blame.

Riyansh was still very much upset over the accusations  Ryon had hurtled his way, particularly in the matter of the sister whose future hadn’t been the topic of discussion that evening, it was one thing for Ryon to express his anger over the matter at hand but drag in all their other business in front of so many was entirely insufferable. If the man did not share blood with his own, the state of his being would be very different now. Though he suspected it was for that reason he felt so emboldened to begin with, whether it was a conscious understanding on his part or not.

Never the less, it fell on the Prince to nullify matters once more. Entering the apartments occupied by the Reach’s Regent once formally announced, his face remained composed though lacked in the placability he’d worn the previous evening. Once the formality of greetings had been dealt with he wasted no time in getting to the matter at hand. “Our discussion was cut short last night, for which I apologize. Lord Blackmont will be suitably dealt with so we can avoid future interferences of that nature. I assure you his words hold no baring over our intentions.”

an hour ahead of schedule, despite working against their estimated arrival time to the castle of goldengrove, was exactly how myriam allyrion preferred wading into such unnerving waters - feeling as though there was still an element of control the woman had on the situation surrounding her. the land was entirely evergreen, as though spring itself never died in this corner of the world, and yet her untrusting gaze seemed to fall upon every beautiful rose as though she were looking for the serpent beneath. paying no mind to the beautiful halls of goldengrove, where the orchids seemed endless, the consort of dorne swiftly expressed her sole desire; to see her husband, and quickly.

the amber on her anklets glittered as she walked closer to his chambers, the halls of goldengrove chiming with each step, coming to a pause by the doorway of the apartments as the squires announced the prince’s visitor. even when the prince of dorne turned to face her, she remained a silhouette in his doorframe, her orange coloured silks glinting in the candlelight. she made her way toward him, a torn expression on her face - for how she wished to beam, but how she wished to also let out a sigh as though something burdened her very soul. 

closing the distance between them, she gently trailed her arms, lined with golden bangles, around his neck to rest behind him, keeping his gaze for a few silent moments before muttering. “what would you have had me do, if i had lost you?” she asked, her tone of voice uncharacteristically quiet, though there was pain dwelling at the core. “to the land of rivers?” 

❛ ･ﾟ

Bathed in sunlight where he was seated at the desk just past the terrace in his chambers, the Dornish Prince sat with parchment and ink as he carefully penned a correspondence to his father. His brows were pulled together, as he tactfully worded his letter both for the fear of prying eyes as always, but also with care as to not outrage his fathers eminence. More now than in years prior he found himself having to be mindful of how he presented his counsels to the older man. His focus however wavered from the task at hand constantly that day as found himself distracted by the light breeze and light streaming into the room, both of which reminded him of cool days spent in the water gardens, a place where so many of his fondest memories were lived.

So as the the soft sound of strumming bells carried from a distance, the man was content in believing that familiar sound was conjured from those very memories. He stood from his desk, standing closer to the terrace entrance in a pool of sunlight, he closed his eyes to the warmth and sought to hold on to that feeling for as long as possible so that he might be satiated for just a while longer. The interruption that came then angered him, though the feeling quickly passed when he was told of whom waited just past his doors.

Riyansh moved out from behind the desk, enthralled by the sight of her as she stepped into the room, the space separating them no longer as vast yet just as offending. Finally when Myriam stands before him claiming his space, his mind, it finally feels as though all the tension he’d held within him is released. She was and would always remain his absolute serenity. His hands find the perch of her waist, ever so lightly brushing the warmth of her bare skin, as he smiles at her question. “Not even the Seven would dare take from you that which you do not wish to give, Jaan. Nor would I go anywhere I would not wish for you to follow.” He said in light, though the sentiment held the weight of every promise he’d made to her in their life together. He fought harder, cut deeper, and sought greater triumphs all to return to those he loved more than life itself.

Even in the distant waters of Braavos, it was known that Dorne had little to do with the Seven Kingdoms. That had been true for the last hundred years of the Targaryen rule here, and she had imagined would continue to be true even after its perhaps inevitable fracture. But in the aftermath of the war that had split the Seven Kingdoms apart, Nyssaria had been proven wrong, and this wrongness had then taken her husband from her into the distant world of petty squabbles about border stones and whose father had killed who generations ago.

So, she was a little upset. It was natural, on having time spent away from her husband. But even so, she was his lover, and would act the part; it was this that had brought her to Goldengrove in the Reach upon being summoned there. In its defence, it was a beautiful place, if a different sort of beauty than she was accustomed to—not of the fleeting and temporary, but in the growth and bloom all around them. Golden, as the name suggested. But even amidst all these signs of life, the most beautiful thing about the place was still her husband.

Nyssaria smirked as she walked into the training center, crossing her arms as she stalked towards Riyansh, hands crossed behind her back as she watched his own, flexing with its strength. “This is a happy sight so very early in the morning. I have missed it dearly in the last months.”

❛ ･ﾟ

Riyansh knew very well the apprehension his people, his family felt over Dornes very sudden and direct involvement in the affairs of the rest of Westeros when for decades now Drone had remained steadfast in their disassociation with matters of the north. They’d remained independent, and unconquered as the Dragonlords claimed siege over most of the continent. While they’d remained neutral through the Dance, the Prince hadn’t for a moment become complacent in his observations of the large shift in the politics of Westeros. For the first time in decades the regions of the north were once again independent, kings rising in every corner of the world.

The nature of power was to seek absolution, especially coming off an age where just one family claimed dominance over so many. The sudden divergence had left a vacuum, that many would want to take advantage of. Thus, the Prince had resigned himself to the understanding that in one way or another the conflicts would come knocking at their door once more. A militant strategist by nature, the only option he saw for them was to get ahead of the storm, so they would not be swept up in it unprepared.

Unfortunately, many of the other Dornish lords didn’t see things that way. The suddenness the alliance with the Reach certainly hadn’t helped matters, where Riyansh had wanted to thread lightly Loreza had dove in head first. Regardless they were now embroiled in matters and the threads were unlikely to untangle so easily. Those thoughts weighing heavy on his mind, the Dornishmen had lost track of how long he’d been pushing his body to it’s limits, though he was not ready to relent still always pushing himself further, that was until a vey familiar and coaxing scent cut through the monotony of dirt and sweat.

Plucking the ripe golden fruit from a low hanging branch from the many apple trees that lined the paths beyond the keep, the Prince couldn’t help but ponder over it, the tales of the children of Garth the Gardener were well known across Westeros, and it was said it was this golden fruit that was the namesake of this keep. The beauty of the Reach was undeniable, and as observed his surroundings he pondered if his might be able to find happiness in this place, and in Highgarden. It was that question that led him out to the Garden’s to seek out Loreza. When he finally caught sight of her as vibrant a sight as the flora around them, he smiled a moment before approaching her with some amount disquiet in his heart for this was not an easy matter for the man to consider. As his sisters had always seemed so young to him, his love for them was akin to the love he now felt for his own children. He offered the fruit to her when he finally reached her, “I am glad you decided to meet us here so we may depart for home together, Reeza. How have you faired in these weeks since we parted ways?”

Time: After the Second Battle Location: Outside Riverrun Featuring: Morra Greyjoy, Asra Dayne, Ryon Blackmont, Cedric Tyrell, Khal Nahajo, Brynden Tully, Rowan Arryn, Mathis Rowan & More

   After the battle and the understanding that they would all be in this standstill for a time, the Dornish Prince had finally taken off his armor to have it washed of the blood and grime, he'd been tending to his twin spears when word of what had happened in the Greyjoy tent reached him. Without wasting much time he put on the straps to holster his spears and sword on across his bare chest taking a long saffron shawl across his chest to cover before making his way to the gathering, though not before stopping to collect his cousin on the way. He entered the tent with Asra on his heel, taking a moment to access the scene, furrowing his brows at the sight of the tied up scouts. For their credit they didn't look nearly as scared as they should be, and he realized it was more than lightly youthful bravado. He nodded his head towards the other leaders, watching Ryon walk toward the pair his jaw worked though he said nothing, for now.

   The prince had remained quiet through the petty squabblings of the grown men around him arms crossed across his chest. Though when it came to light that not only were the two young, but one of them was a girl he knew where he landed as far how they should be dealt with. His jaw worked as the Dragon king lifted the mouthy one clean off his feet by the scruff, though it was at the Khal's involvement that he stepped forward himself placing himself between the young girl and the Dothraki, standing at nearly his stature he had no problem looking the man in the eyes unintimidated. Though he held his gaze a moment, it was the rest of the group he addressed, "Surely, half the ruling nobility of Westeros need not concern themselves with the interrogation of a pair of children. We're wasting time here, when our concern should be the man employing the two. We know what they were here to retrieve, surely even the fish king would not entrust two welps with more than a simple task. Throw them in a cell to be further interrogated then punished by Brynden Tully."

The Dornish Prince had always felt most at ease with a weapon in hand, the call of battle had never caused the man to falter, though in the many years since he’d last truly fought in earnest he did feel a change within himself. In his youth he fought for the gleeful satisfaction that could be found in battle, a rush like no other. Though this time around he fought harder for all the more reasons he’d gained to return for. The first of which were the two great loves of his life, and their children, then of course his sisters and the responsibilities entrusted to him by his title. The man was blessed with more than he could have ever wished for himself and what better motivation was there than that?

It had now been but a few short days since he joined the Prince Regent at Goldengrove, from the moment he’d accepted the alliance his sister had initiated with the Reach it became paramount that he solidify the foundations of that alliance whether it was one he’d have chosen himself or not. Though this did mean there was still many moons before he would return home to the faces he yearned for the most. Thus he found solace in his routines, staring his days with rigorous physical activity. The training facilities at the keep thankfully did not disappoint. His concentration as he trained was fixed, nor was he expecting any interruptions in such early hours.

all the princess could do was nod her head at his words. it barely surprised her to know that their father was not entirely enthusiastic about dorne’s involvement. first, the treaty with the reach and now, sending dornish troops to fight a battle in far off lands. what would come next? “i’m sure he will find a way to cope with his displeasure,” she shrugged and turned her attention back to her blade. her relationship with their father had always been a complicated story to tell. while she wanted to say confidently that felt nothing but unconditional love from him and admired him, each year that passed those feelings slipped further and further. yet, eleyana understood her place in their family structure and to their kingdom, knowing all too well that he set those terms for her. through it all, she could learn to settle for his conditional love if that meant it could protect her siblings. 

eleyana couldn’t help let out a laugh at her brother’s words, or to be more accurate; her father’s words. her hand quickly moved to pierce the sharp dagger into the wooden table so that it stuck upright and rigid. there was no denying her agitation as she rose from her seat. “oh i’m sure he does. now tell me brother, did father give you any other commands for me in that correspondence?” she exclaimed, her annoyance growing with every moment. she placed her hands on he sides of her temples to try and ease some of the tension knowing all too well it was futile. even outside of dorne she knew she could not escape his grasp. 

❛ ･ﾟ

Riyansh didn’t often speak or think ill of their father and his decisions. For the longest time he had the mans undivided attention -- years after his sisters were born even, considering there was little their father could entrust to them but his affections while they were children. The trajectory his life compared to his sisters was very different and they were met with a very different paternal figure as well as the years took their toll. Riyanash hadn’t realized it when he was younger perhaps but reflecting back he could note the change in Nymor after the death of his mother, he’d been too young to truly gage the bond they’d shared back then but if it was anything like what he felt for his beloveds he could only imagine, even if love could be found again such a lose would always linger.

Though even he could see his fathers inconsistencies and shortcomings in recent years. Riyansh was in a privileged position where their father heeded his council, and often reconsidered their course upon his insistence, and he knew this was not always the case with his sisters, and most often Eleyana. "If it wasn’t a course I supported I’d hardly present it to you, Eleyana. The Eyrie is soon to be vacated by it’s most prominent guests, your time will be far better spent sharing your observations with father in person to better plan our next course of action. And of course considering your safety is my preeminent duty.” As he finished some of the sternness left his face and he offered her a warm smile. “Are you too old now to allow your elder brother that mercy, Eleya?”