Arianne was highly sceptical of the claims made by the Griff and the Young Griff. She smelled a conspiracy of the highest order to claim the Iron Throne by some Essosi riffraff using the name of her deceased aunt and nephew.
It had been a couple of days since she was informed of her 'nephew's' survival, but Arianne remained unconvinced. What surprised her more was her father's unwavering belief in this farce despite its flimsy nature.
She knew her father to be a man of caution. Therefore, she knew her father had to be keeping secrets from her once again. If she were this sceptical, her father would also be wary of the Young Griff's claims. No matter what she thought of her father, he was not a man so easily fooled by a few words from a disgraced lord of the Stormlands.
She didn't immediately confront her father with her doubts. She mulled over the entire incident in her mind for three days, and on the night of the third day, she confronted her father.
"I don't believe their claims." she said boldly without any restraint on her part.
"Lord Connington has vouched…" Doran started but
"His word has less worth than the sand in our deserts." Arianne said with a derisive snort, "Jon Connington is not one of us. He is a Stormlander with a grudge against the Baratheon dynasty for attaining his lands. Is his ambition so hard to see, father?"
"I see more than you can understand, daughter." Doran said calmly, his dark eyes holding no hesitation or doubt.
Arianne frowned at her father and stared at him thoughtfully.
"You know this to be an unlikely story but choose to believe it for some reason." Arianne said hesitantly, but there was no reaction from her father, who had his dark eyes pinned on her.
"No, that's not it. You don't care if the Young Griff is truly your nephew or not, do you?" Arianne's eyes widened in realisation. "So long as you can claim influence over the Iron Throne, you don't care about it. We're being duped into thinking that silly boy is Elia's son."
There was a slight crinkling of her father's eyes, keying her into the fact that she was closer to the truth.
"That makes much more sense than just trusting the word of an exiled Stormlander." Arianne muttered.
"You don't understand, daughter. There are greater forces at play. The Baratheon dynasty cannot be allowed to remain on the throne."
"What greater forces? You are making that up." Arianne accused, rolling her eyes.
"Stannis Baratheon had momentarily brought respite to the deep divides amongst the Seven Kingdoms. The destruction of the Westerlands and the attainment of House Lannister's wealth has no doubt strengthened Stannis' position, but wealth and personal strength alone cannot intimidate Westeros. Tywin Lannister learned that lesson the hard way."
But Arianne was not interested in her father's ill thought reasons.
"Even if all you said is true, why not wait for these supposedly greater forces to take care of the Baratheon dynasty? We can declare independence and govern ourselves as we've always done. It is to the dragons we gave our oaths of fealty, and the Last Dragon fell at the Trident after raping a girl to death." Arianne shot back.
"You wouldn't understand." Doran sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
"Really? Then make me understand how am I supposed to ask my betrothed to support the alleged son of a man who raped his aunt to death? Why should House Stark support a Targaryen on the Iron Throne after they burned Rickard Stark alive and choked Brandon Stark to death?"
"The Starks don't have to support anyone. They just have to remain neutral and ideally the Riverlands as well." said Doran.
Arianne could roll her eyes at her father's stupid plan. There were large holes in this idiotic plan, and even she could see it leagues away despite not being as well-versed in martial affairs.
"You realise that you plan on attacking Stannis Baratheon for a boy who may or may not be your nephew, who was raised by strangers in Essos away from any of us. He has no ties to our family or this land other than the stories told by Jon Connington and the rumours of sailors that cross the Narrow Sea." Arianne pointed out, glaring at her father and hoping he'd see reason.
"There are things you don't understand…"
"That's all you say, father." Arianne snapped, getting tired of being belittled. "But perhaps it's you who don't understand that the Stormlands, the Crownlands, the Vale, the Riverlands, the Reach, and even the Westerlands would side with Stannis Baratheon if we start a war."
"And for what?" she continued and took a deep breath when her father remained silent, "I believe this to be a folly. I wonder when my father thought our power comes from a small council seat instead of the sands of Dorne?"
Arianne snorted at her father's continued wall of silence. She knew when her father was being stubborn, so she huffed and marched out of her father's solar.
'Getting back movement in his legs must've made him dumber.' Arianne thought with a snort.
She needed to secure her future if her father was intent on dragging Dorne into a useless war with the rest of the kingdoms. It was a good thing she had Harrion as her betrothed because their plan was far better than the idiotic father was pushing.
This required more planning, but she needed help if she wanted to prevail in the midst of idiotic, power-hungry men.
However, she also knew her father wouldn't throw Dornish spears into a war without a plan.
It could be possible that she was misled to believe her betrothal to Harrion was to keep the North out of the war. Her father was a devilish thinker who could play events out to make the Nort at least nominally support the war effort on their side.
There was also another possibility. The Young Griff could take a wife from one of the Great Houses and thereby gain their armies and influence to stake his claim on the Iron Throne. Her father would most likely recommend the Young Griff to take Lord Tyrell's daughter as his wife if she guessed right.
'A Tyrell queen would certainly entice Highgarden to support the Young Griff.' Arianne mused as she settled into a seat on the balcony of her room.
But that plan had some glaring holes. After all, Stannis had a daughter and a son who were far more enticing to the Tyrells. Then, there was the unmarried Lord of Storm's End to consider.
"You don't seem particularly happy." said Tyene while watering a pot of shrub on her balcony. "What did you fight over now?"
"Let's just say my father has not learned any lessons from the Rebellion." said Arianne with a scowl.
She was vowed to secrecy by her father about the Young Griff's identity, and she'd honour her word… for now!
*****
Harry inspected the recent construct presented by his best blacksmiths employed in the Avalonian fleet. The need for an expanded fleet had raised the need for smiths specifically employed for work in the fleet. These smiths were to operate exclusively for the fleet, and in turn, for their exclusive service, he gave them a fixed income.
A reorganisation of the fleet corps was almost necessary as he wanted to create a dedicated engineering corps within the fleet.
This latest piece of discovery only emphasised the need for such a change within the fleet. The idea was his, but he neither had any idea on how to build it nor the knowledge of math involved in doing so. But his people had done the work for him.
Now, he just needed to test it out.
Harry tapped his wand against the propeller blade held by a shaft of wood in a large basin full of water. The animation charm took effect, and the propeller spun rapidly in the water.
Harry dipped his hand in the water a few paces away from the spinning blades. He could feel the water being pushed against the palm of his hand.
"Water is definitely being pushed back, which should create a forward force capable of pushing an object coupled with the propeller." Harry pronounced to the satisfaction of the smiths present in the room.
"Shall I make arrangements for testing to be done using larger models on boats and ships, my lord?" Marwyn inquired almost giddily.
Harry looked at the smith Andrew for advice as the man was the best in the business.
"On boats first. We'll need to experiment with this better to increase speed with different designs. It also has to be learned how much load these shafts can take with heavier boats before we factor in the weight of ships to the design." Andrew suggested.
"You heard the man. We test these on boats first." Harry decided, heeding the advice of his best engineers.
"Have it tested as soon as possible. Ensure they have everything they want for the work to progress. This has priority now." Harry added to maester Marwyn.
But before he could take his leave, maester Marwyn took him aside from the earshot of other men.
"A raven came from Winterfell."
"Finally!" Harry huffed.
He had been getting incensed by the silence from Winterfell after the capture of Edmyn Torrent. He was told his father was exchanging ravens with Lord Arryn about the findings. Even House Manderly had requested his father to give leave to take action against the Sistermen.
But despite all that pressure, Winterfell had so far asked for restraint until further instructions, and they had been forced to wait patiently for nearly a week.
"What does it say?" Harry asked.
"Lord Stark asks for further restraint. He is travelling to Avalon to meet Edmyn Torrent. He wants to learn the truth from the tongue of Edmyn Torrent himself." said maester Marwyn.
"Hmm." Harry was a little surprised that his father didn't ask to bring the prisoner to Winterfell, but he supposed he could wait a couple of days. "It'll take time to prepare the fleet for a full-fledged war in the Three Sisters anyway. I suppose this gives us that time to prepare."
"My lord, you said you had no intention of escalating this into a war." Marwyn reminded him.
"I did, but it wouldn't hurt to prepare for the worst. It really depends on what Lord Arryn does with the information we provided."
And wasn't that the crux of the issue – the lack of action from Jon Arryn? He wondered what sort of excuse the man would cook up now that the North possessed a valuable witness to the Sistermen's actions.
For now, he decided to play along while preparing for the worst-case scenario. Charging maester Marwyn with the oversight of the propeller project, Harry walked away for other matters that needed his attention.
Harry returned to what he was doing before he got distracted by the propeller prototype.
"Came back to get beaten up again, have you?" Jon smirked, staring at him challengingly while holding the pommel of his sword stabbed on the ground.
"Get ready to eat dirt." Harry raised his blunted sword in challenge as he stepped into the training yard after getting fitted with padded armour.
He had been getting his ass handed to him by Jon in the training field from early morning before getting asked to join his fleet smiths by maester Marwyn. He supposed he could try his luck now and return the favour to Jon.
He lunged forward with the tip of his blunted sword, nearly scoring a hit, but his brother was nimble in his movements. Jon evaded the reach of Harry's sword and retaliated with a swift strike, which made his sword arm shake when he defended with his sword. They went back and forth with quick jabs and swipes with their swords as they danced around the training arena for a few minutes.
Harry could feel he was slowly going out of breath while his sword arm was hurting. The good thing was that Jon was also getting tired. He saw that his brother was also taking laboured breaths after each blow. But his hopes of besting his brother in swordplay crashed and burned when Jon swatted away an overarching strike and slammed the butt of his sword against his forearm, making him drop his sword.
"Aha! Got you again!" Jon grinned as he held Harry at sword point. "Are you up for another bout?"
"No." Harry rolled his eyes as he pushed Jon's sword away and dropped himself to the ground.
He lay there on the ground while trying to catch his breath.
"You're improving. You lasted long this time." said Jon, dropping to his knees while holding onto his sword stabbed to the ground.
"Of course I am. It's only a matter of time before I best you." Harry huffed as he heaved himself to a sitting position after catching his breath.
"So, what did maester Marwyn want?" Jon asked.
"Our father rides from Winterfell to interrogate Edmyn Torrent." said Harry, earning a curious look from Jon.
"Just to interrogate our prisoner?" Jon asked sceptically.
"I suppose he wants to be cautious in how we approach this, and he may have thought that it could only be achieved with his physical presence here." Harry shrugged.
It didn't really matter in the end. The Sistermen would inevitably provide more reason for the conflict to escalate so long as no decisive action was taken. That was the experience that resulted from Jon Arryn's inaction. He found nothing to have changed this time around as well.
Suddenly, Harry froze as his mind was assaulted by a bunch of broken visions and a dose of strong emotions and instincts. He saw apple trees around him, which then shifted into winter roses lining up the ground. Then he was travelling between pine trees, and then there was a sudden flash of pain which made Harry reel back.
"Harry! What happened?" Jon asked, immediately noticing a change in his brother's posture.
"Something happened to Fenris." Harry said, running out of the training yard in a rush.
He threw away the padding and the bulky straps around his body, which functioned as ample protection for the training, as he made his way towards the eastern door out of the castle walls. He was going in that direction purely on a hunch and the winter roses he saw in the vision. The eastern gate of the castle wall held a lot of winter roses, so he hoped Fenris crossed the eastern gate.
By the time Harry reached the eastern gate, Jon and a couple of guards came with horses behind him.
"Harry! Take the horse." Jon shouted as one of the men offered the reins of a free horse.
Harry climbed over the horse and rode towards the pine trees northeast of the castle where he suspected Fenris was seen in the vision.
"What did you see?" Jon asked as they rode towards the treeline.
"I don't know. It felt like Fenris experienced a flash of pain and then nothing."
"You can't feel anything now?" Jon whispered.
"No." Harry shook his head.
"Could someone be hunting these grounds?" Jon asked, looking at the men who were at a loss of words.
"Lord Harrion ordered these parts to be off limits for hunting. If there is anyone here…" the guard trailed off with alert eyes going back and forth amongst the trees.
"Poachers or bandits." Jon suggested, gripping the pommel of his sword in a vice grip while looking warily around.
"Hmm." Harry hummed noncommittally.
He closed his eyes and tried to focus his mind on reaching out to Fenris.
'Fenris, can you hear me? Fenris!' Harry projected his thoughts.
His skill with warging was a bit rusty, mostly because he had no need for it. Besides, most of the time, he felt like Fenris forced their connection open.
He was met with silence and darkness in his mind.
Suddenly, a howl pierced the otherwise silent forest, making Harry's eyes snap open.
"Further north." he said before turning his horse towards north and rode away, forcing everyone else to follow him.
They rode hard until they came to a stop near a Weirwood tree. The sight that greeted them was quite strange. Before their eyes, Fenris was lying against one of the low-hanging branches of the tree, but the black direwolf was not alone. There was a grey direwolf larger in size sitting beside Fenris on the branch.
"Another direwolf, this far away from the Wall." Jon mused aloud with a grin, tugging at his lips, "Must've searched hard for a mate if it came all this way."
Harry rolled his eyes while his brother's shoulder shook with laughter.
"You just made my life a whole lot more complicated. You realise that, don't you?" Harry glared at his big furry wolf companion, who only lazily blinked in his direction.
Jon snickered beside Harry, making him palm his face.
*****
It was a bright morning with a lot of sun. The blue waters of the sea glittered under the sunlight and were peaceful, with no gales in sight. The sea remained calm, which was perfect for the testing.
"All right, folks. Let's begin." Harry shouted while sitting in the shade of a tree, watching the men start pushing the modified boat into the sea.
"This will work, right?" Jon asked impatiently.
"You have any place to be right now?" Harry asked with a raised brow.
"I might since you charged me with devising a strategy to rout pirates from three hostile islands on the other side of the continent."
"I spent an entire day and night setting up the runestone, and the men were working on the propeller similarly. Show some respect." said Harry.
"Look! The boat is moving on its own." said Jon, squinting his eyes through a spyglass, "Can I go now?"
"Hmm." Harry hummed while eyeing the boat using a telescope.
Jon was right. The boat was quite easily cutting through the sea with increasing speed. It looked like the boat was steady in the sea and in control by directing the fin to change directions.
"Huh!" Harry muttered as his eyes zoomed in on the ship with a familiar banner in the distance.
"Is that…?" Jon started as he noticed the ship in the distance.
"Yep. I believe that is Prince Oberyn's ship." said Harry, seeing the fluttering banner of a red sun pierced by a gold spear on an orange field.