Game Of Thrones : Reborn as a Lannister

AN :

If we hit top 25 I will release another chapter tomorrow.

In the Game of Stones, you either win or you wait. The more Power Stones you offer, the faster the chapters come.

...

There was a tension in the air. Not a bad part of the tension, but a sort of strange finality as she supped at her water.

It was Callum's last day with them. The ship to return him to the Westerlands was already in the harbor, and Elia wasn't entirely sure how to feel about it.

Since their mother died, Callum had been a nearly continuous presence in the lives of the Martell siblings. Whether it was his constant chattering with Oberyn about something or other, his dinner conversations with Doran, or the few little adventures Elia herself had been on with him. While little baby Arianne was still the darling of Sunspear, Callum had well and truly become a fixture in their little family.

He had been an energizing presence, always pushing the presses forward, or working on some sort of strange contraption or idea. Everyone had noticed the strange coterie of artisans that he had asked Doran to recruit for him. Since they had arrived he was rarely without one or more of them, but that didn't stop his work at all.

Indeed Oberyn had become fast friends with the Summer Islander shipwright Molo, and Callum had worked with both of them on a blueprint for a potential new dockyard at Planky Town. Elia had looked over the drawings herself and it had seemed impressive enough. Dorne had lacked a real navy since Nymeria burned her Thousand ships, but perhaps they could change that soon enough.

At any rate, Callum had been good to House Martell, and now he was leaving. That was the crux of the matter. Elia frowned as she glanced across the room at him, talking quietly with Doran about something or other.

She walked over quietly, not wanting to interrupt, but also wanting to spend time with him. She would likely not see him for years after this. Possibly not even until they were to be married. Children grew fast, he might be a completely different person by the time she met him again. That thought sat bittersweet in her mind. She had come to like the little boy who was always chasing some wild dream and trying to make it happen.

"I think you could do it if you brought them to your palace more frequently…" Callum was talking to her brother, twirling his hair around his finger. His hair was longer now than it had been in King's Landing. He had not had it cut since he arrived in Dorne. "You need to build a sort of shared… let's call it a regional identity, Dorne already has one to an extent but you need it to be centered on House Martell to get the best use out of it."

"It's not that simple though, men hold to their lords," Doran replied, stroking his chin. "The type of development you're proposing could take decades, generations probably, and a weakening of the lordly houses."

"Not necessarily." Callum rebutted, "On the timeline at least. Subverting the lordly houses isn't so difficult, the approach simply needs to change." the boy said, tilting his head. "Men are loyal to the leader that is closest to them, that has the most presence in their lives. If you wish their loyalty to go to you, you must become closer to them, impact them more greatly."

"That is not so easily done-" Doran started, but Elia cleared her throat.

"Excuse me Doran, but do you mind if I steal Callum for a bit?" she cut in as they both turned to look at her. She glanced down and gave the boy a smile, "I think… well, before you leave I'd like to talk to you about a few things."

"I suppose we can continue our discussion later." Doran acquiesced, and Elia gave him a short nod.

Callum blinked, then quickly nodded. "I-yes, that would make sense." he seemed to fidget a bit in place. "Do you want to speak here or…"

"The south balcony will suit us fine I think." Elia saw that he was glancing towards the door, and he shot her a grateful smile as they walked together in that direction. It wasn't very far at all down a brownstone passageway covered in tapestries and finely woven rugs.

The Southern balcony was a small pavilion atop the southern-facing shelf of the Old Palace, looking out over the vast deserts of Dorne stretching out to the south of Sunspear, it was actually shaded by the bulk of the castle for most of the day. Because of its relatively less exposed position, part of the balcony was made into a garden with water pumped up from the deep wells below the castle, feeding a small collection of palm trees and other desert plants.

During the hours of the day when the harsh sunlight did break over the castle into the garden, a series of awnings were rolled out from the palace wall to protect the small green gem from the blazing heat of the Dornish sun. For the moment though, the sky was clear and blue above their heads, and the sun was hidden behind the huge bulk of the Spear Tower nearby.

Once the two had found their way to some cushioned seating, near a small wicker table that sat near the garden section of the balcony, Elia finally decided to move forward with the conversation. "Callum, you are leaving tomorrow," she stated quietly, below the ears of the servants who would no doubt listen otherwise. She'd prefer this conversation to be as private as reasonably possible.

"I think… well, I do not want to leave anything unsaid between us which could arise later, I think we should discuss our future marriage, that is, our betrothal." Elia had frankly been dreading this conversation for the entire duration of the boy's stay. Not because of anything Callum would do, but because she had bungled it so badly before in King's landing. She did not want to offend him again and ruin the rapport they'd built between them since he'd come to Dorne.

If she said the wrong thing, would he hate her forever? She had already failed twice, what if he'd already given up on the arrangement in his mind? What if he was quietly disgusted by the relationship between their mothers? Sadly, she didn't think it would be wise to leave the topic standing when he returned to Casterly Rock.

Callum nodded slowly, his eyes becoming sharp as he met her gaze his voice as low as hers was. "I thought that was what this was about. What do you want to discuss Princess Elia?"

Elia felt her smile tighten a little, and she shook her head. "Still just Elia please," she said quietly. "I just… I don't want there to still be this weight between us when next we meet. Likely as anything the next time we see each other will be just before our wedding."

Callum seemed to pause at her words, stilling in his seat. "I… hadn't thought of it that way," he said after a moment. "You're right. It won't do." he leaned back, breathing in heavily through his nose. "Truth be told, I do not dislike the idea of marrying you, Elia." he got a cheeky grin on his face.

"Despite your best efforts, truth be told." The comment was teasing and maybe a bit mean, but she knew he wouldn't have made it if he wasn't already so familiar with her. She had seen many times in the past months that Callum was rare to speak impulsively.

That didn't stop the blush that found its way onto her cheeks. "I suppose… well I wasn't very pleasant in King's Landing. I would blame the stress my mother's illness had caused me, but in truth, I was just foolish."

Rhaegar was dreamy, of course, but with distance and the trauma of mother's death behind her, Elia had long stowed that dream away. Callum was still a child, but it had struck her one day when cleaning up after Oberyn's mess that she could have been betrothed to someone far worse.

"On my part, I do not dislike the idea of marrying you either." it was the honest truth. At the very least, she could say that she knew Callum well enough already. Better him than trying to look elsewhere and rolling a dice on whether she'd end up with a perfect knight or a pig in human skin.

That might be a mean thing to think about Oberyn…

Callum looked a bit relieved at her words, his expression relaxing. "That's good to hear," he said quietly. "I uh… well, I honestly used to be worried about what our marriage might be like if you did." he scratched his cheek. "But you've been a very good host while I've stayed here Elia."

Elia smiled, then snorted slightly. "Well, I could hardly trust my siblings to do it. Doran's too busy with Arianne and Mellario, and if IOberyn had been the one keeping track of you then you'd have spent half your time here in a brothel." she narrowed her eyes.

"Ah, well he did invite me several times," Callum admitted. "But I turned him down, I don't like brothels very much."

Elia glanced down at him curiously. "Have you been in one?" It would be odd if he had. She didn't think Tywin Lannister would let his son into a pillow house knowingly, and Callum seemed a dutiful son.

"No, no, nothing like that." Callum waved his hands in front of him. "I wouldn't insult your honor like that Elia-no I just don't like the idea of them, and the way they're… well you know, half the time they're nearly slavery." the boy said quickly. "Many of those women- the whores that is, they didn't all enter their profession happily, or they did but now are being held to not leave it." Callum leaned back in his seat, looking up at the clear sky overhead.

"The Seven-Pointed Star says that whoring is wrong, and it's probably right, but worse than whoring is the injustice that's rife in those places. I don't think I could ever stomach to visit one."

Elia listened to him speak, and smiled gently, reaching over, she pushed his hair back out of his forehead. "Well, I'm glad that I'll have a husband who holds such an opinion." Elia was much less interested in the ethics of such institutions herself, after all, it was hard to imagine a world without them, but she could well appreciate marrying someone who hated them. "I'm curious though, have you told your Summer Islander about that? I have been told that whores are sacred in his homeland."

Callum raised his hand and made a so-so gesture. "That's a little different, there they practice sacred prostitution, and everyone in their society spends some time in their temples as a whore in their youth. Plus they all sleep around in most of their religious ceremonies." Elia couldn't help but giggle as Callum explained the sex cults of the summer isles as if they were just the mechanics of some strange invention he was working on.

"I don't like them very much either honestly, but it's more like a civic duty for them, like paying taxes or heeding a lord's call to arms. It's not as bad as…" Callum paused for a moment.

"You know, we came out here to talk about our betrothal, but somehow now we've ended up here." He turned to her. "I'm sorry, Elia, is there anything else you want to discuss, other than the relative immorality of whores from different regions?"

Elia smiled back, leaning over and propping herself up on her elbow. "No, I think we've already said what we needed to." Plus, it was too funny listening to this kid explain such a lurid topic so dispassionately. "You can go ahead and keep going if you'd like."

Callum blinked and then stared at her, his eyes narrowing.

"You know what, fine. Now, as I was about to say, the Summer Islanders are comparatively less disgraceful than Westeros, but Westeros is still much better than the free cities where the not-quite slavery seen in many Westerosi brothels is replaced by open sex-slavery. Lys is of course the worst of these and that's why-." Elia relaxed, a smile on her face as the blond boy prattled on, just like he did every day with Oberyn or Doran, or indeed with her.

Callum had indeed grown on her, and that infectious excitement he had for whatever area of study he was talking about was going to be sorely missed once he left.

Still, it wasn't as if she was losing it forever.

If all went well, she would have a lifetime of it.

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