Unbent

                   ❝    𝐘𝐎𝐔    𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓    𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃    𝐓𝐎    𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐈𝐙𝐄.    ❞            the    calm    response    comes    quick.    he    likes    he    thinks    he    does    well    under    these    situations.    able    to    keep    his    cool    in    the    face    of    so    much    havoc.    such    a    skill    wasn’t    one    to    be    born    with,    but    one    acquired    over    time    &    maintained    with    practice.    arthur    dayne    had    his    fair    share    of    years    perfecting    it.    an    unfortunate    thing,    to    be    used    to    so    much    death.

                       ❝    i    haven’t    spoken    to    doran    yet,    no.    but    i’m    expecting    his    call.    ❞            a    violet    gaze    falls    on    her.    personally,    he    wasn’t    close    to    obara.    but    her    death    was    a    blow    to    the    vipers.    he    could    only    imagine    what    arianne    was    feeling    &    he    couldn’t    begin    to    think    about    what    was    going    through    the    heads    of    the    remaining    sand    snakes    right    now.            ❝    i’m    sorry    about    obara.    if    there    is    anything    you    need    me    to    do,    please    let    me    know.    ❞

Her first thought upon hearing that Doran had not spoken to Arthur was something like jubilation. Her father seemed to be confiding in less and less people these days - if there was anything to talk about at all. There was nothing to say that he was doing anything at all, but slowly losing his grip on his seat. It made Arianne’s task far simpler, but she couldn’t help but feel an anger stirring in her belly. Was Obara’s life not worth doing something? If not, what hope did the rest of them have. She blew her hair out of her face and shook her head. “I think you’ll be waiting a long time for that call,” she pointed out, bitterness clouding her tone. 

Did she need anything from Arthur? Arianne wasn’t sure. There were certain people Arianne trusted. People within The Vipers who were hers. Arthur wasn’t one of them. But whose was he? Doran’s? Oberyn’s? Was he the Martells’ at all? She didn’t know, and until she did, she would ask nothing of him. Nothing that mattered, at least. “Thank you,” she nodded her head in acceptance of his condolences. “We can’t let her death go unanswered for. I don’t know if my dad sees that.” She glanced at him, testing the waters, wondering if he agreed with her. 

7 years in King’s Landing had earned Dacey friends, friends she’d ask for favors from and one’s she’d grant favors in return.  But Arianne was not one of those people.  While she wouldn’t exactly call the woman an ‘enemy’, there certainly was no love lost between the two.  Stupidly, she didn’t even remember why anymore, it all having started over something so petty, but that didn’t negate her negative feelings for the Martell.  So to be approached and asked for a favor from her left Dacey practically in shock.  “Well this is gonna be interesting to hear.”

Arianne couldn’t help but grind her teeth in her annoyance. It was ridiculous. They were women grown, and yet they couldn’t manage to get along for five minutes. “You don’t have to be like that about it,” dark eyes narrowed, head shaking a little. This was why, despite not knowing what it was that kick-started their mutual dislike, it persisted. They would never be friends. Neither was under that illusion. But that didn’t mean Dacey didn’t have her uses. That is, if she could be trusted. And so, Arianne put on her most dazzling smile, forcing her previous irritation down. “These things are better discussed over a drink. What’s your poison?” 

“I can tie knots and everything.” He said with a mischievous grin.  Fine, he may not be a boy scout, but he wasn’t lying about the knots.  Granted he learned them in more adult pursuits, but the fact he knew them is what counted, not how he learned them.  

He watched her face change as he brought up the scandal of the evening, and he instantly regretted it.  Obviously he knew her aunt was, and should’ve considered that before bringing the subject up.  But just as quickly as her smile had morphed into something more grim, it had changed once more, and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes and attempted not to laugh, but a smile worked it’s way onto his face without his permission.  “You got that right.  Speaking of–” and with that he took a large swig of his own bottle, knowing he’d need to be good and drunk if he were to face Robert at any point during the evening.  Especially after the events of the night.

“Is it bad if I say we’re all kinda laughing at it?  Or rather, laughing at Robert?”  It probably was, bad to say, but the fresh intake of wine on top of pre-gaming he had done earlier loosened his tongue.  “It really was just straight forward karma.  The amount of people he’s done the same to?  Please.—Everyone’s just pissed because they’re actually still together.  Makes it less easy to be mad at them, I think is the reason.” He finished with a shrug and another sip from the bottle. 

“You’ve been keeping secrets from me, Edric.” Arianne clicked her tongue in disapproval. “I could have had some fun with that particular skill of yours.” There was nothing sexual between them anymore. Just harmless banter, teasing and flirting with no weight behind it. She liked to keep it that way. It made things so much easier. 

She brought her bottle to her lips, drinking deeply. Once lowered, she brought her fingers up to wipe at the corners of her mouth. “It doesn’t sound that bad to me, as long as Robert doesn’t hear you. Quite the temper he has, no?” She raised a shoulder in half of a shrug, She bent her head towards him, hair falling in a dark curtain as she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s worse for Cersei, no? To have Robert still making a fool of himself all these years of marriage later.” She regarded Edric thoughtfully then as the weight of her words impressed upon her. There was plenty of ways in which Cersei had been made a fool of, and Edric himself was one of them. 

She decided not to dwell on it, grasping the conversation as attention returned to to Lyanna and Rhaegar. “They all brought it on themselves,” she reasoned. “And now here we all are, forced to care about things that should have been forgotten years ago.” She laughed, shaking her head in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Let’s not waste any more time on it, Edric. Enough of our time has been wasted as it is.! 

The idea of entering together had been borne out of the ‘rip the bandaid off’ ideology.  Go through one, short burst of pain and discomfort rather than dealing with it over a period of time, in an attempt to make their transition back to King’s Landing as quick as possible.  Although at the time, when she and Rhaegar had decided on that strategy, they thought they’d be walking hand in hand to a family meeting, not an intimate wedding ceremony, which she truly felt made all the difference.  It turned their act of showing up as a united front from one of strength into one of poor taste.  She should’ve just worn a white dress to top it all off.  

By the time she had made her way to the bar, her nerves were already rattled, though she refused to show it, and had considered herself lucky that she hadn’t run into any directly related Martell family.  She’d need time and liquor to steel herself for that.  So as she looked up to find the surprisingly kind eyes of Arianne, her heart had skipped a beat or two.  “You have a point there.  Does seem a but pointless.  Although they do say all revenge is pointless.”  She mused.  She didn’t quite disagree as there were more than a few people in attendance she’d love to get her hands on for their part in the scandal (and she was sure others felt that same way about her).  

Lyanna sighed audibly as the olive branch was extended, and with a relieved smile she accepted “That would be…Great.  Thank you.”

The statement caused Arianne to purse her lips in thought. She had never given much thought to the concept of revenge. She liked to think of herself as proactive enough to head off any danger before the need to seek it out ever arose. “Pointless, yet satisfying,” she flashed a grin that showed there was nothing serious in her words. She wondered, idly, if being seen with Lyanna Stark would be received poorly by the Vipers. Elia was well-loved. If they did, Arianne wasn’t certain she cared. There were certainly bigger things than decades-old drama to be worried about. 

She waved off the thanks with a dismissive hand. “It’s my pleasure.” Arianne knew her manners, if nothing else. She leaned across the bar, catching the attention of the bartender and ordering the wine. Once delivered and uncorked, she took the liberty of pouring it herself, filling both glasses liberally with an expert hand. She was a Martell, after all. She knew how to pour a drink. 

“This is the part where we trade gossip, I think,” she let out a chuckle, though her eyes glinted with mischief. “So tell me - what did you think of the dress?”

In truth, Arianne didn’t know much about Mace Tyrell. Margaery, she knew and adored, but her father was another matter entirely. She was sure he was expected Doran to be the one to offer his condolences. After all, it was her father who was the leader here, not Arianne - though if she had anything to say about it, that certainly would not be for long. 

She cocked her head as she surveyed him. She was here to play at politics, but it seemed insensitive somehow. They had both suffered in the attack, and she wasn’t sure how much that could be acknowledged. She thought of Obara, and what she would want somebody to say to her in that circumstance. That show of sincerity seemed the most genuine route to pursue, and so she did, dark eyes sincere as she opened her mouth to speak. 

“I hope you know that you have my condolences.” Her voice was gentle, though she did her best to inject it with authority. “If there’s anything I can do...” she trailed off. It was a stupid notion. The Tyrells didn’t seem the type who needed to ask for favours. 

Arianne couldn’t put her finger quite on why, but she could not stand Dacey Mormont. Whatever had happened between them to cause such animosity was too long ago for her to truly remember, but there had to have been something. Still, regardless of her personal feelings, she didn’t have it in her for a fight at the moment. Not in the way she might have previously looked for. Not when she was trying to ask for something. “Dacey,” she said, granting the other woman a curt nod. “I need a favour.” 

Arianne’s lips were pursed, her fingers tapping on the table before her. Dark circles encased her eyes. Since the wedding had become a massacre, she had slept very little. She was not blind to the kind of life they had chosen to lead, but neither could she recall anything like this happening before. The meeting was supposed to be a safe haven, but the Lannisters and Greyjoys had seen to it that Arianne wasn’t sure she would ever feel safe again. 

Like most who followed her father, Arianne, more often than not, regarded Arthur Dayne with a wary eye. In normal circumstances, she might have even looked to play games, to try and wheedle out of him where his loyalties lay. In this moment, however, she didn’t have the energy for it. Whatever her father had planned for her had taken second place to what he had planned to avenge Obara’s death. 

“Have you spoken to my father yet, Arthur?” She asked, her voice devoid of it’s usual playful warmth. To be all business was not like her. She didn’t like the bluntness in her tone. Frowning, Arianne rubbed at her eyes, and let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.”

rhaenys:

“  it’s  manageable  ,  you  guys  ?  ”  the  adreneline  was  pumping  through  her  ,  doing  an  effective  enough  job  for  the  moment  to  mask  whatever  pain  she  might  have  been feeling  .  she  had  not  missed  the  red  discolouring  the  damask  rose  of  her  gown  ,  but  there  were  more  pressing  matters  to  attend  to  —  like  the  murderous  hoard  that  could  potentially  corner  them  in  the  stairwell  .  the  cold  gun  was  level  in  her  hands  .  it  felt  unnatural  ,  she  was  of  the  people  that  did  not  get  their  hands  dirty  .  rhaenys  did  not  go  to  sleep  worrying  about  taking  blood  stains  out  from  her  delicate  hands  .  she  would  worry  about  that  later  ,  but  now  with  her  ear  pressed  to  the door  ,  body  crouched  to  make  her  as  small  and  hidden  as  possible  ,  rhaenys  found  herself  jerking  away  from  the  door  .  “  i  think  someone  is  coming  .  ”  she  steadied  herself  beside  the  door  .  “  it’s  hard  to  tell  with  all  the  bloody  noise  .  should  we  risk  opening the door  ?  it  might  beat  running  down  and  straight  into  an  ambush  .  ”  

Shooting the aquarium had been a good move and quick thinking on their parts and Barbara could only hope that it would be enough to make them look the other way. Not that Barbara couldn’t hold herself in a fight, and with a Martell and Targaryen by her side, she knew they would get out of it, but still, they seemed to be outnumbered and there was no way to know how many were there in the whole venue. What this was, the woman had no idea, but making it out was the only thing really on her mind. At the question, fingers went to her head, sticky and wet as she brought them down. There was also a pain in one of her arms but the full assessment would come later. “Nothing to worry about for now. You?” she asked as she looked at the other two, mostly Arianne, trying to see what their state was. “We need to find light enough to see how many bullets we have left between us because otherwise we might be screwed.” And there was no way Barbara would hide if she still had any bullets.

@sunlightouched​

Arianne breathed a small smile of relief. It was clear that none of the three had emerged totally unscathed, but there seemed to be an agreement that they were all ready to press on. She was glad of Barbara in that moment. She seemed a capable sort of woman. Arianne loved Rhaenys dearly, but she wasn’t certain her cousin was made for this sort of thing. Arianne brushed her fingers across her temple lightly, trying to make a clear decision between the two options presented. “I don’t think we should go back in there. The gunshots will have caught attention, and we don’t know how well armed we are. If we can find some light, figure out where we stand, we can come up with a plan.” Keeping her gun at the ready, Arianne crept along the corridor, keeping her footsteps as silent as she could and her ears strained for any other sound. She’d be damned if she walked into an ambush now. 

@sundragvn​

But the Martells weren’t the only house to have lost. And so, when she came face to face with her friend  Arianne did not hesitate to move to her, delicate hand resting on Margaery’s arm. She opened her mouth, but closed it again. Condolences felt too hollow to utter here. She cleared her throat, tossed her hair back, and tried to step into the shoes of Arianne the leader, rather than Arianne the uncertain.  “They’re saying it was Lannister men. Did you see anything?”