289 AC – Sunspear

Harry Baratheon – The Future Prince

Dorne was a beautiful place. From the Red Mountains to the Greenblood to the Water Gardens, all of them had their special charm. There was a different culture in Dorne than he had been used to, but that was not so bad. They were freer in Dorne. More liberal in their passions and certainly treated their bastards better. No child was held accountable for the nature of its parents. Harry did not have that problem, but it was nice to see that even those that did were not treated badly in Dorne.

If only it wasn't so bloody hot.

Hadrian Baratheon. That is what people called him. He preferred being called 'Harry' for those who were close to him.

He was second brother to the King of the Iron Throne, squire to Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne, and future Prince-Consort to Arianne Martell. His arranged marriage was brought to secure Dorne's fealty to the Crown after his elder brother's rebellion. He along with the bones of Prince Lewyn Martell had brought Dorne to heal. Peace was achieved, even if both parties had done it so begrudgingly.

But, he had not always been so.

He had lived a full life, far longer than many were blessed with. He had lived a life full of magic and wonder. There were hardships and loss. But, those had just made him appreciate the happier memories all the more. He had known the love of not only one woman, but two, who had given him six wonderful children. Both were happy to follow in their parents' footsteps and he was more than happy to support them. One had become an ambassador and the other the Head of the Department of Law. He had been a househusband and philanthropist and was very happy with it. They had grown old together, raised their children together, and had the pleasure of dying together surrounded by their family: six children, twenty-two grandchildren, and four great grandchildren at the time.

He should have been in the afterlife. He should have been with the people who had died attempting to save him, who had given up everything to stop a madman with delusions of grandeur. It was all he could have hoped for when Death finally came for him. But, it was not Death that came for him as he had released his finally breath.

It was Life, or the embodiment of it, that came to greet him. She had come asking for him to perform one more time, to participate in the game Life and Death were bound to play.

He had long ago accepted his fatal flaw. Harry was not the type of person who could say no when people were in need. He had seen the wasteland the world would become if he did nothing, what she had come to him asking him to prevent. A part of him wanted to let them deal with it, to be selfish, be with the family that had waited for him, and await the family that would be with him. Not for a long time he hoped, but all ventured into the afterlife eventually.

But, that was not who he was. And so, he went unto the next great adventure with a promise to those who loved him that he would see them soon. They had waited over a hundred years to see him. What was another hundred?

"Harry." A soft voice flittered through the air.

He knew who had come and turned to meet her.

Arianne Martell had not been the most beautiful girl he had seen when they had first met. In her family alone, her uncle Oberyn's bastards Tyene and Nymeria were prettier than her. Red spots had covered her cheeks from the affliction she had as a child. She had been a pudgy thing, with a chubby face and her short height made her look rounder.

But, as soon as womanhood had hit she had started to come into her own. It was a slow process, but much of her had changed in just a year. The ringlets of black framed her face better as it became more angular, but softly so. The babe's fat had almost completely melted away and started to reveal her womanly curves. Her teats had yet to come, but if they were anything to match her curves then what a set she would have, probably enough to rival his second wife.

Not that Harry would have cared. He had promised to marry her for the peace of the realm. But, just because it was arranged did not mean he would not come to love her as much as he did his previous wives in his past life. He and Arianne were of the close in age physically, only a year apart, but mentally he was much older than her. She was just going through what some of his daughters did at her age: insecurities with physical appearance. He tried to come up with nice things to tell her to help her self-esteem.

He was reminded of a friend he had when he looked at her. His friend had bloomed late, but it had been a glorious kind of beauty she revealed.

"Princess." He greeted back with a small bow of his head. She hated it when he called her by her title. Harry just did it to tease her.

"I am your betrothed Harry. You should call me by my name or your beloved or your dear or something equally sweet." She said as she walked up to him and pouted.

"Of course. Hello Arianne. How are you doing?"

"I would be better if my promised would greet me properly." She replied with a coy smile, looking up at him through her lashes. He was not fooled. She was still young and better than her had done the same. Arianne had a long way to go if she was to successfully ensnare him with her charms. But, the act was endearing though, and albeit cute if he were honest.

Arianne was an adventurous sort. She was curious about pleasures of the flesh and tried with him often. Harry never let it get too far, mostly kisses and, just recently, light petting. It was better to give something than hear her try and guilt him into it. Whether it was genuine or just a tool to manipulate him, he hated hearing her speak negatively about herself. So, Harry made sure to lavish his attention on her whenever possible. Sometimes he wondered if he doing it so well made her pursue him for more.

It was not his fault. He had two wives in his past life and neither was exactly shy about telling him what pleased them. Harry had never been a good student at school, but he was more than willing to learn that from them.

"Yes, how rude of me." He said with a chuckle. Harry bent down to greet her and Arianne eagerly raised herself on her toes to catch his lips.

The desert was a hot place to live, especially as he had been born in the Stormlands. He kept his sides shaved to help keep cool. Harry kept hair at the top of his head to better cushion the helm he wore during training.

Arianne wrapped her arms around his shoulders, a hand coming around to clutch at his naked scalp. She moaned into their kiss and begged at his lips with her tongue for entrance. Harry relented and massaged her as she entered his mouth. He allowed it to go on for a moment before pulled away, giving a playful tug on her bottom lip as they parted. The princess did not like being apart so soon judging from the way she tried to pull him back for more.

"Was there a reason you came to find me?" He asked to her displeasure. She was struggling to tell him, not wanting to. Arianne wanted to punish him for taking breaking away before she wanted. But, he just smiled and kissed her cheek, coaxing her with sweetness.

"A messenger arrived at the gates. There are fanatics again at the hospice."

Harry groaned at the news.

"They aren't hurting anyone. But, they disturb the peace. My uncle has personally gone with some guards. Obara awaits outside for you."

In his first year being fostered in Sunspear under Oberyn's care, Harry had healed Prince Doran of his gout with magic. He could see the brief moments of pain the man had when he moved and felt sorry for him. Everyone had been amazed at seeing magic with their own eyes. Prince Doran had offered him anything he wanted in his gratitude. Harry had requested a hospital be built in the city to render medical aid to the smallfolk.

Lords, ladies, and knights could rely on the maesters they kept in their keeps. But, the smallfolk had no one. Harry opened the hospital and invited the Orphans of the Greenblood, along with other hedge wizards and woods witches, to work and take care of those without maesters. They charged those who could pay, gave discounts with less to give, and helped those with nothing. A few wealthy merchants had complain about it being unfair, but Harry told them to find help elsewhere if they were unsatisfied with their help.

No one had complained again.

Harry liked healing people. The fact that the hospice created revenue of coin for him was just a bonus.

But, when the Faith had found out that they used magic to heal, they were quick to raise alarm. It did not help their case when many of those who worked in the clinic did not pray to the Seven, Harry included. Never mind that the Faith had done nothing to help to poor or needy. The septon and septas had come down to the hospital when one of the hedge wizards was healing a woman with Summer Fever. The wizard was not even using pure magic, but very weak magic in combination with herbs. They had called them heretics, condemned them and bade them to repent.

Harry held no ill against the Faith. They could pray to whom they wished and how they wished. He did not begrudge anyone their prayers or faith. So long as they did not harm his patients, they were welcome. It was the number one rule of the hospital: they turned no one away.

A murderer could have come to them seeking aid and as much as they would have disagreed with his actions, they would have healed him. They would have had guards ready to take him to custody and judgment, but they would heal him until he was strong enough to stand trial.

But, that day, when the septon had scared the people inside the clinic, especially the children, Harry did not stop Obara from breaking the man's nose when he approached threateningly. He shooed the septon and septas and warned them from disturbing the hospital's peace ever again. They had never stepped foot near it again, but Harry had a feeling they encouraged their more fanatical followers to do so in their stead.

Harry went to the corner near his bed and grabbed his sword, a three-and-tenth nameday present from his brother Robert. None of his brothers had shown for the small party the Martell's had given him, but he accepted that it was such a far travel. It would have been a fairly arduous journey for Renly and he was in Storm's End. None had made it, but still they sent letters of their well wishes and gifts.

The sword he had gotten from Robert had a long shallowly curved blade, as Dornish favored the curved sword. Antlers were etched along the steel of the blade. The long bowed hilt, that was almost as long as the blade itself was made of hard wood, embroidered with golden scales that wrapped around until it came to a forward facing and elaborate cobra head. The snake's mouth was open, revealing short fangs and had emeralds set for eyes. The weapon was a cross between a glaive and a sword. It was a little over four feet in length, half that the blade, which was thicker than normal swords used in the other kingdoms, made for cleaving rather than stabbing. It could stab well enough and would leave a very large wound channel, but the shape was and long handle was more suited towards sweeping down a cut from the back of a horse.

Stannis had sent gold for Harry to purchase a sand-steed of the finest quality as well as a letter of intent to name Harry his heir until time came when his wife, Selyse bore him a son. The woman had a miscarriage during their years married and Stannis was probably worried about his legacy should he die. Harry sent back a letter to thank him as well as a description of the sand-steed he had bought.

His horse, Ajax, was a blood red stallion with a mane and tail the color of the midnight sky. He was a strong horse, fast as the wind if Harry pushed him. The sand-steed could run all day if Harry allowed him and was as easily slighted as his brother Stannis was. Magic help him if the stallion did not get a carrot or apple when Harry went to saddle him or at least pay him a visit at least once a week. It was hardly a problem, as Harry loved to ride. The wind in his face and hair, feeling it brush quickly against him made Harry feel so free. If he went fast enough it was almost as if he was flying.

Renly had also sent gold and a letter. He bemoaned the fact he could not attend because of ruling Storm's End. As Renly had never been the studious sort, Harry had no problem believing his little brother had trouble managing the castle. The gold was for whatever he wished, but Renly wanted him to buy clothes of the finest silks. When they next met each other Renly wanted to see the latest fashions of Dorne. Harry had no idea what that had entailed and committed the act of insanity when he asked Arianne, Ellaria, and the Sand Snakes to help with the fact.

It was an amateur mistake. Something Harry should have known since he had been married before. Twice.

"Do you plan on hurting them?" Arianne asked worriedly, seeing him carry his sword over his shoulder. It was far too long to strap to his waist with a sheath. She was not to the type to worry for the people. It was more believing that he would get hurt himself. He found it endearing.

"Not if I don't have to." He said factually. Harry had not made it past the door of his bedchamber when she felt her small hands clutch at his sleeve. Arianne stood with her back to him for a moment before turning, a regal look on her youthful face.

"I forbid you from getting hurt." She imperially commanded. Harry could not stop the grin that spread across his lips.

"As you command princess."

Arianne gave a singular, satisfied nod.

"Give your betrothed a kiss and be off to protect your precious clinic."

Harry complied, giving her a short simple kiss before stepping out past his receiving room and into the hall. He was met with Obara.

Obara Sand was another of Oberyn's bastards, the eldest at seven-and-ten. She lacked much of the beauty her sisters had. She was not as sweet looking as Tyene or as slender as Nymeria, but she was not bad looking. Plain would have been the word Harry used to describe her. Plain brown hair that was kinky and messily braided. She was big boned and well muscled from her training, but that training also sculpted her ass and did nothing to take away from an ample bust.

People might have found her attractive if not for the perpetual scowl, that was only replaced by a maniacal grin.

When he had first opened the hospice and had to venture into the city so much, Oberyn had suggested his daughter be his Sworn Shield. Harry was open to the idea, even if she was young for such a duty. He had seen how damaging she could be in the training yard. Obara was a demon when a spear or whip was in her hands. She had been trained by the Red Viper of Dorne and had beat many men twice her age. Harry had left the decision to her if she would join him. A few had been surprised when Obara had thrown her spear at his feet. Thankful she did not kneel. They may have had heart attacks.

"Harry." Obara greeted with a nod of her head.

"Aren't you lovely today Obara." He said with a grin, liking how he could make the normally unflappable girl blush. Because she was plain, Obara was a stranger to compliments. And because of how she fought on the training yard very few men ever came close enough to flatter her.

Harry had used it against her often.

"Shut up," Obara replied, straightening her back, "let's go deal with these idiots. If we are lucky I'll be able to hit one today." She said shoving servants out of their way as they walked.

He laughed and shook his head.

She is a poor shield, but a great battering ram.