Chapter 87: Baratheon-Martell Peace Talks (Part 1)

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Sunspear — The Water Gardens...

Daveth and Ser Jaime were being led into one of the many rooms in the Water Gardens' apartments by the Martell captain of the guard Areo Hotah. It was proving to be a long two days since their arrival and the negotiations between the Iron Throne and the ruling House Martell of Dorne were set to begin at any moment. Both men were dressed in a long Dornish cotton tunic, gold robe with drawstring pants, and a gilded bronze leather wrap belt around the waist for the occasion. The Young Stag didn't look comfortable in this new attire, yet kept his mouth shut. Gold was never my color to begin with, he referred to his clothes.

Jaime looked at his nephew. "Gold doesn't suit you," he pointed out.

"Manners, uncle. Remember we're guests in someone else's home."

"Be grateful that Prince Doran has agreed to hear you out," Areo said. "Had it been someone else like the Lannisters representing the crown, well... Let's just say that your family isn't well-liked in Dorne."

"I'm well aware of the lingering hostilities between House Martell and House Lannister," the Young Stag countered. "But I'm the one representing the crown, not any of my relatives."

"You'd worry that we might try something?"

"Both sides might suspect the other of duplicity. If I indeed wanted to try anything, then we will have accomplished nothing."

Areo turned to Jaime. "And what of you, Lannister?"

"Not the way I would've said it," he replied, "but that's one way of putting it."

The three men kept walking until they arrived at their destination; within the Martell court there was a display of a total amount of three couches and chairs, with Princes Doran and Oberyn sitting or standing at the main sofa, Ellaria sitting next to Oberyn, Ser Lucius and Ariyana standing guard at the side of a sofa across from Princess Myrcella and Prince Trystane.

"Prince Doran," Daveth acknowledged. "Oberyn."

"We're glad you could join us, brother," Myrcella greeted.

"Forgive us. We started without you," Doran said. "Please, sit."

Daveth sat down on the sofa across from Trystane and Myrcella; both Lucius and Ariyana nodded as Jaime looked at his 'niece.' The dress she was wearing bared more skin that the ones she originally wore back in King's Landing.

"Princess Myrcella," Jaime greeted.

Myrcella looked up at him. "Uncle."

"That's... a lovely dress."

"You don't like it?"

"You must be cold."

"Not at all," she shook her head. "The Dornish climate agrees with me."

"Take a seat, Ser Jaime," Daveth gestured to his uncle.

Jaime turned to his nephew, shaking his head as he sat next to him.

"Will the Queen be joining us?" Oberyn implored.

"Sansa will be here at any—"

On que, Sansa had arrived with Shae and Brella, each of them carried with them the royal twins Lyonel and Cassana. She had just had her bath so her red hair looked a bit moist, indicating it was still in the middle of drying. She looked uncomfortable in her dress; a refined golden attire – soft fabric which showed more skin with light material unafraid to almost fall off the shoulders and two necklaces around her neck, she felt as if her skin was exposed than usual as she was a daughter of the North. Sansa was more used to the cold climate, not the heat. Myrcella looked up at her and rose from her seat.

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