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GOT: Reborn as a Martell

Quentyn is sent back after his death in Meereen...but someone else inhabits his body. Two years before the events of AGOT, the new Quentyn Martell will have to navigate the treacherous landscape of Dornish politics and push himself forwards if he's to avoid the same fate he did in Meereen, and make the Sunshine over Westeros. ______________________ patreon.com/MoonLight18

MoonLight18 · Book&Literature
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150 Chs

GOT : Chapter 102

"Your house will be reduced to nothing. Your bloodline will rule neither the Seven Kingdoms, nor Casterly Rock, I can promise you that much! And all because you decided to have three innocent people killed out of, what? Fear? Pride? Revenge?"

...

Standing up from his seat, Quentyn shook his head and looked down at their captive. His voice was surprisingly nonchalant as he spoke, "It doesn't matter. Once again, all that matters is that you brought it onto yourself. 

You brought everything onto yourself, Tywin Lannister. I am sad that you won't be able to see your house fall before your very eyes, because you thought it was best to be feared by the entire realm. Who will fear you now, lion? You have nothing left."

Quentyn paused and drummed his fingers against his chin, as if deep in thought. Arch wasn't sure if his friend was giving the old lion time to think on his words or if he was actually debating what to say next. Considering how long the Martells had been yearning for this moment, it could have been either.

"I thought about how you should die," Quentyn eventually said, "I killed Lorch the same way Rhaenys died, it felt fitting to make you die like Elia did. I surely would have had many candidates wishing to rape you to death."

The old lion's eyes went wide at these words.

"But then, I realized that would make me no better than you," Quentyn continued, rage in his eyes. "No better than a monster. No, I have a more fitting death planned for you, you colossal piece of shit. But first, I have one more revelation for you. One more little secret to share to prove that you have failed in everything. Love, why don't you tell him?"

"My mother is from the old blood of Volantis." The sand snake leapt from the bed. "From House Maegyr, one of the most powerful houses. It is a cadet branch, not the main line, but one that commands respect nonetheless. Her father was, of course, of House Maegyr too, and he married three times. She came from his third marriage, to a Westerosi. She had come from the Westerlands, as a matter of fact."

Their captive seemed puzzled by this change in subject, looking at Nymeria with a tilt of his head.

For her part, the snake smiled down at Lord Lannister the way one might at an uninformed child. "She was a great beauty. Young, blonde hair, green eyes, smart…perfect. 

My grandfather instantly fell in love with her when she arrived in Tyrosh, with only her belongings and a few sacks of gold as she was visiting the Free Cities. Her family was supportive, of course, and she settled into the Volantene lifestyle quickly. He decided to marry her, promising her safety in Volantis. It was soon enough that they had my mother, their eldest. 

And eventually my mother had grandmother was a sweet woman, but she was also very sad. When I asked if she had brothers or sisters, she would avoid the subject. But when I was ten, she revealed to me what happened to them, and why she left the Free Cities."

Nymeria leaned forward, her formerly calm face now a rictus of anger. "They were all slaughtered. Slaughtered for having dared to oppose a tyrannical decision from their liege lord. She was the only survivor since she had been in the Arbor then, and fled to the Free Cities."

The snake was almost breathing on the old lion's face now.

"Her name…" the snake continued, "was Calla Reyne."

The snake laughed. It was not a happy laugh.

"You think you slaughtered us all? You think we wouldn't come and take our vengeance? That we didn't have cousins, sisters or brothers not in the Westerlands when you came to slaughter us like pigs? Well, Lannister, it's time you pay your debt. And we Reynes would like a lot of interest. I have brothers, you know…and I've already offered one of them the Rock. House Reyne of Casterly Rock…"

Quentyn grinned at the old lion, whose eyes were completely wild.

"It's done," he whispered. "Casterly Rock will be given to the Reynes as compensation for your horrid crimes. Enjoy death, Tywin Lannister."

With a quick movement of his arm, Quentyn clutched the old lion's face and slammed it into the wall with enormous force. The old lion couldn't react, and tried to cry out.

"For Elia," Quentyn said softly, slamming the Lannister's head into the wall in a mess of blood and broken teeth.

"For Rhaenys." Another slam.

"For Aegon." Another. This time, the old lion had stopped writhing. Blood was dripping on the floor and a multitude of teeth were laying on the cold ground.

"For Elia." Again.

"For Rhaenys." And again.

Tywin's Lannister's face kept hitting the wall with such ferocity, Arch could hardly recognize Quentyn at all. The names kept coming, though.

"For Elia. For Rhaenys. For Aegon. For Dorne."

Finally, when it was obvious the old lion was clearly dead, Quentyn took out his dagger and unceremoniously cut his throat while whispering softly: "For me."

Quentyn shoved the body aside, Tywin Lannister's face being completely unrecognizable, being a mass of blood, brains, teeth and skin, while Quentyn himself was breathing heavily, blood coating his shirt and part of his face.

"It's done," he finally sighed. "Let's get out of here."

Arch nodded simply.

It was all over. The Dornish vengeance was complete. Lorch, Clegane, Lannister…all dead.

The snake quickly dashed to the wardrobe to take out the old lion's coat marked with the sigil of house Lannister, bathed it in Tywin's blood, and smiled widely.

"Thank you," she said with a huge smile.

Quentyn just nodded, smiling weakly, hobbling towards her. Arch had to support him as they looked to make an exit.

However, Quentyn stopped.

"Wait," he said.

Arch grew confused when Quentyn looked around the room, trying to find an object. Then, his eyes quickly darted to something, and he threw himself forwards.

Going over the bed, he found a hilt, carrying a sword with a lion's pommel. Unsheathing it, he smiled widely, and both Arch and Nymeria's eyes went wide.

"Valyrian steel…" Arch whispered in admiration.

Quentyn exhaled deeply and smiled.

"I think we can get out of here."

Arch didn't have to be told twice. They managed to run down the stairs of the tower of the Hand, making sure to avoid the main hallways, while darting towards the gardens.

It was then that curiosity got the better of him.

"My lady," Arch whispered to the snake. "Was your mother really a Reyne?"

"No." The snake giggled, holding a hand to her face as if to keep herself from bursting out in loud laughter. "Of course not! The old blood of Volantis are almost like Targaryens, they only marry amongst themselves."

"Why the act, then?" he asked.

"I wanted Tywin Lannister broken before his death," Quentyn replied while looking around at the corner of a hallway. "He had failed in everything, but still succeeded in wiping out the Tarbecks and Reynes. I didn't want him to believe he'd at least succeeded in that."

"You think he believed it?" Arch asked.

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Nymeria replied. "It didn't cost us anything to say it. And if it succeeded, then Tywin Lannister's last thoughts would have been that Casterly Rock was going to be given to his worst enemy."

"I think you played the mummer quite well," Quentyn winked at her. "I choose to believe he ate up every word you spoke."

Arch nodded, not completely understanding why it was useful to torture a man seconds before his death. Instead, he focused on the road ahead, as they finally exited the Keep.

The night was completely dark, the moon being obscured by clouds which meant the moonlight could not illuminate their path. Just as well, it would make things easier.

They hurried down the paths outside, quickly reaching the oak tree. There, Quentyn stopped, and put a hand on Arch's.

"Go, Nym," Quentyn asked the snake. "We'll follow."

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I won't be long, I promise." He quickly closed the distance and kissed her fervently.

"I'll meet you at the beach, cousin." She smiled haughtily.

The snake quickly left their field of vision, while Archibald was left alone with Quentyn. They waited and waited, but nothing came, and Quentyn was getting impatient. Suddenly, when Quentyn took a step forward as if to leave, a voice came from the bushes.

"My prince?"

Quentyn and Arch immediately turned their heads.

Archibald couldn't exactly see through the darkness, but he thought he recognized the Tyrell girl Cletus was smitten with.

"Lady Alla," Quentyn whispered. "I didn't expect you to be here."

"Queen Margaery said I would find you here. I…she's not coming," she whispered. "But I wanted to give you this."

Arch stared confused as the Tyrell girl handed Quentyn a small envelope.

"It's…it's a letter to be given to Cletus…"

"You haven't broken his heart enough already?" Arch took a step forward, but Quentyn immediately stopped him.

"Stop it, Arch, you're scaring her."

Arch gruffly crossed his arms, while Quentyn stared at the envelope.

"I…" Alla Tyrell continued. "I wanted to tell him, but he doesn't want to see me. You may think I manipulated him, and that is partially true. But I care about him, gods forbid…I think I just love him. Please, my prince, give him the letter."

"I will." Quentyn nodded simply. "Now hurry along, or you might catch a cold with these clothes."

"Thank you…" Alla whispered. "Will you also tell Cletus…that I love him?"

"If your words are not enough, I shall." Quentyn nodded.

The Tyrell girl then disappeared as fast as she had come, running off into the darkness. Quentyn took Arch's arm, inching him to head to the beach, all the while shoving the envelope into his pocket.

It wasn't long till they were on the beach, where the snake was waiting for them with Larra and Jon Blackmont.

"Is that everyone?" Quentyn asked, still carrying the stolen sword while the snake had the bloody cloak, much to the amazement of the two Blackmonts.

"It is, my prince," Larra Blackmont replied, her gaze switching from the sword to the cloak.

"Good," Quentyn sighed deeply, entering the small wooden boat, looking into the distance. "Let's go home."

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