Viserys did not speak; he knew Doran definitely had more to say.
Sure enough, Doran continued, "You killed Lysa Tully and her only son, who was only seven years old—the last bloodline of House Arryn. And you did it using the Moon Door, the very tool House Arryn uses to execute murderers and traitors. Then you let the Royce family take over the Vale in the name of your future vassals. I actually approve of this; the Royce family has the strength to manage the Vale."
"But that child, Robert Arryn, was not even eight. In my view, there was absolutely no need to be so ruthless. Even with our blood feud against Elia's killers, we didn't want to wipe out House Lannister, only the perpetrators."
"Sometimes, only by leaving a glimmer of hope can one gain the recognition of others; this has been the unspoken rule of this continent for many years. The only two exceptions that ever occurred, Garth 'Greenhand' and Harren 'the Black,' were both the work of your family. Now, the Arryns of the Vale must be added to that list."
Viserys met his gaze. He could see that Doran didn't actually care about these things at all; he just wanted to know Viserys's attitude, or rather, if he was another Mad King.
"House Arryn participated in and led the War of the Usurper, setting themselves against the Targaryens," he said. "They also swore fealty to the pretender king Robert Baratheon. That is treason."
"Treason," Doran repeated the word, his tone devoid of mockery, containing only scrutiny. "So the bloodline of traitors should be thoroughly uprooted, including a boy not yet eight years old?"
"Yes. To pull up the weeds without removing the roots is to invite them back when the spring breeze blows. And do not forget, we signed our marriage contract in Braavos. As for why I was in Braavos, I think you are well aware of the reason. If I remember correctly, I was barely eight years old then myself, yet the Usurper King constantly sent assassins. Furthermore, Robert Arryn jumped of his own accord; it had nothing to do with me."
Doran looked at him and remained silent for a long time.
"You are not like Rhaegar," Doran finally spoke with a smile. "If it were Rhaegar, he would hesitate, he would weigh the options, and he would look for a third path before the blade fell. That was his kindness, but it was also his fatal weakness, which is why he died under Robert's hammer."
He paused and continued, "You are not like your father either. Aerys's madness was fed by fear; he feared losing the iron throne, feared betrayal, and feared every enemy in the shadows. Consequently, he ended up paranoid, even suspecting Rhaegar and House Martell at the time."
"But you are different. You are rational, decisive, and intelligent. Moreover, you have your own set of principles. You are more suited to be King than Rhaegar was."
"Thirteen years ago," Doran began, "Elia returned to Dorne with Rhaenys. She stayed in Sunspear for a month, and every afternoon she would come to the Water Gardens, sitting by this pool in a daze."
"She rarely mentioned Rhaegar. Only once, she said that Rhaegar believed in prophecies, believed his child would be the savior. She said it was foolish."
Doran lowered his eyes. "But she loved him. I know she did, even when Rhaegar chose to abandon her."
"Oberyn told you about Aegon," he said. It was a statement, not a question.
"Yes, but Varys only told you about a fake."
Doran did not deny it. "I hoped it was true at the time. That hope sustained me. From the day they told me of the deaths of Elia and the children, I have been dedicated to the downfall of Tywin Lannister. So, hearing Varys's news made me very excited."
He looked up and looked directly at Viserys. "But now I know, it was not."
"Well then," he shifted from the painful topic, "let us refine our previous agreement."
He gestured, and Horta pulled a roll of parchment from his tunic.
"This is the agreement Oberyn signed with you," Doran said. "You promised to let Dorne retain its princely rule and enjoy autonomy, only swearing fealty to the iron throne, paying taxes, and answering the call to arms in times of war."
Doran looked at him. "Well, besides that, I want to add one more clause."
Viserys did not respond immediately.
Doran slowly raised his hand and took a ring from under the wool blanket. The ring was made of gold, with the Sun-and-Spear sigil of House Martell engraved on its face. It looked somewhat blackened, clearly having been worn for many years.
"This is the token of the heir to Dorne," Doran said. "It was forged after Queen Nymeria unified Dorne, and it has been passed down to me."
He pushed the ring toward Arianne's hand. "Now I give it to you. I know you have always wanted it. In the future, you can also pass it on to your children."
Viserys looked down at the ring, then looked up to meet Doran's eyes.
"Arianne will always be my Queen. Of course, I will not stop her from inheriting the title of Prince of Dorne. However, the child she and I have cannot inherit Dorne; he will be a Targaryen and can only hold my inheritance rights."
Doran looked at Viserys's firm gaze and could only nod, suppressing his other thoughts.
Then Viserys spoke, "I do have something I need you to do. At the appropriate time, you need to write a letter to Lady Catelyn in the North."
Doran's eyes narrowed slightly.
He continued, "Tell her that Lysa Tully confessed to the murder of Jon Arryn and named Petyr Baelish as the mastermind, and that she has already stood trial at The Eyrie." Currently, only the Vale and Sunspear in Dorne know this news across the Seven Kingdoms.
Doran lowered his gaze. "Lady Stark will want to know the cause of her sister's death."
"Yes, but she will settle this score with the Lannisters," Viserys said slowly. "After all, Petyr is currently Joffrey's master of coin."
"You want the North and the West to continue fighting?" he asked.
"No. The longer the war drags on, the more people die, and the less value it has. I only hope they can check and balance each other so they won't unite when I reclaim Westeros. I don't want to kill too many people," Viserys said. "After all, what we have to face next is the coming Long Night."
"You say the Long Night," Doran said slowly. "I have read of this term in the records of the Maesters. Eight thousand years ago, the White Walkers came south, a winter that lasted a generation. But that is just a story from the songs."
"Stories from the songs once included dragons as well," Viserys said. "Now they have returned; I have seen them with my own eyes. I think, in a while, news from The Wall will spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms."
He briefly recounted his experiences north of The Wall—the ice-crystal swords of the White Walkers, the searches by the Night's Watch Rangers, and what happened to Benjen Stark. Doran listened quietly throughout and finally spoke, "If this is true, the current civil war in the Seven Kingdoms is the most foolish act of suicide."
"That is why I intend to end it as quickly as possible."
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