Building an Empire in Game of Thrones (REWORKED VERSION)-Chapter 83: Prince Oberyn’s Visit to Highgarden

Far North of the wall, the Vikings that Maximus had sent to keep tabs on the movements of the Night King and help the people across the wall, had built a small town filled with about 10,000 Freefolk people. The town was called New Valhalla, and it served as an imperial outpost for North of the wall. The first groups who came in contact with the town were skeptical but soon realized that they were treated much better than they had been by their own people.

Despite how the Night's Watch perceived the Freefolk, most of them were just average people trying to survive in the intense cold. They were provided with food, shelter, and even weapons. Some of the Freefolk began joining the defensive force for New Valhalla, becoming scouts, fighters, and eventually citizens once they made their contributions.

As word spread, more people migrated towards New Valhalla in hopes of joining something greater. The Viking axemen who were dispatched had done an excellent job in not only keeping tabs on everything that was going on but also creating a good relationship with the Freefolk. From what they could tell regarding the Night King's movements, he was much more cautious compared to his previous incarnation.

Meanwhile at Castle Black, Jon Snow watched Samwell struggle with his sword training. Their hands were numb from the cold, and their breath was visible as they dueled in the freezing air. "Come on, Sam," Jon said as he parried another clumsy strike. "Just keep your guard up. They can't walk over you if you stand tall." Sam huffed and swung awkwardly. "I'm not winning any fights standing tall or otherwise," he muttered as he took a swing at Jon to miss entirely as he fell forward while trying to regain his balance.

Jon shrugged and smiled. "I've seen you shoot a crossbow better than any other recruit." Sam straightened, rubbing the back of his neck. "A crossbow's easier to aim," he said.

"And doesn't have a habit of swinging back at me." Raising a brow, Jon saw Maester Aemon and two men in Night Watch black robes passing by them. One was Ser Alliser Thorne, and the other was Janos Slynt. The two of them had just returned for their journey south where they had tried to convince people of the White Walkers and the threat they posed to the realm.

They were mostly unsuccessful due to the politics in King's Landing. "Lord Snow and Lord Tarly hard at work, I see," shouted Alliser as he passed by. "They should clean out their chambers before making a mockery of themselves," added Janos with a smirk. Sam looked away, embarrassed. He knew that even if he wasn't good at training with swords, he was still better off most of the recruits and even better off some of the veterans.

He was such an awkward man that others didn't know how to take him except putting him down. Once they were gone, Jon muttered something under his breath about the both of them before turning back to Sam.

Jon handed Sam his sword back and patted him on the shoulder. "Ignore them," he said. "They're not half as brave as you were the day we crossed beyond the Wall."

Sam gave him a faint smile, then looked up toward the battlements. "You think the people in King's Landing will ever believe it? What we saw out there?" he asked. "The Night King's real, and he's coming. Doesn't matter how much gold they count or what thrones they sit on."

Jon nodded. "They'll believe it when it's too late."

In the Dungeons of the Red Keep, Littlefinger sat chained, staring at the wall in silence. He'd been through worse. But this time, it felt different. No guards joked near him. No whispers of a plan. Just silence and the slow drip of water.

"Such a shame," said Varys, appearing from the shadows, torch in hand. "You always were three steps ahead... until you weren't."

Littlefinger lifted his eyes slowly. "I underestimated the dragons."

"You underestimated the future," Varys corrected. "And the future wears Imperial armor now."

Littlefinger smirked despite the chains. "You think Maximus will be any different? Power corrupts, my friend. Even those who come bearing fire and mercy."

Varys approached his cell. "Perhaps. But unlike you, he doesn't smile while he cuts throats." With that, Varys turned and walked away.

———

In Highgarden, Lord Tyrell had gathered another army of 20,000 soldiers to counter the 40,000 soldiers that Stannis had gathered. Obviously, 40 beats 20, but when you are defending a castle, the 20,000 soldiers will have an advantage over the 40,000.

Renly was once considered the best contender to take the Throne, but after losing his army, he is dead last in the race. He hoped that Prince Oberyn, who had just arrived in Highgarden, could be convinced to help them in their battle against Stannis. Prince Oberyn was already given special permission from Maximus to create an alliance either through marriage or other means with House Martell.

In the grand dining hall of Highgarden, Renly watched the entrance impatiently. Lords gathered around him, but Renly's eyes were fixed on the doors, waiting for Prince Oberyn's arrival. When they opened, Oberyn Martell strolled in, flanked by two of his daughters, Obara and Nymeria.

Renly forced a smile onto his face, waving off his company. "Prince Oberyn," he called out as though greeting an old friend.

Oberyn approached with a smile on his face. "King Renly," he said, not referring to him as your grace as there was already somebody higher than a King whom he served. Renly gestured toward an empty chair. "We have much to discuss."

Once seated, Oberyn took a sip from the goblet laid out for him. He tilted his head slightly, glancing around at the Reach lords who pretended not to eavesdrop. "You asked for my presence," Oberyn said. "What would you have of me?"

Renly leaned forward. "Your support," he declared plainly.

Oberyn exchanged looks with Obara and Nymeria then let the silence linger before responding, "Our support was given the moment Artys Arryn took Aegon's hand," Oberyn replied. "The Reach is not part of that union." Renly gritted his teeth but kept calm. "But it could be. A marriage alliance. Your family has a history with mine."

Oberyn shrugged, sipping his wine again. "We also have a history being murdered by yours." Renly sighed, trying to mask his desperation. "Stannis is gaining ground faster than anyone anticipated."

"And you are losing it," countered Oberyn.

"Not if I have Dorne and the Reach combined." Renly said boldly, his voice rising as he got frustrated. Oberyn was quiet, then finally spoke, "And how would this look from the Imperial Court?" Renly blinked in surprise. He hadn't considered what Oberyn meant by that statement.

"You want us to betray more than our tradition of loyalty," Oberyn continued slowly, "and claim independence with you for a crown you might not hold. The Martells are many things, King Renly. But fools we are not." Renly's fingers tapped rhythmically on the table as he thought about how to convince them without angering them. "If Stannis wins," said Renly, "Then he'll have two kingdoms to crush."

Oberyn stood up, placing his goblet down with a pause. "Or none, if the Empire gets involved themselves."

As Oberyn turned to leave the dining hall, the doors opened once again, this time revealing Lord Mace Tyrell and the Queen of Thorns, Lady Olenna. Mace puffed up proudly, moving forward with the confidence of a man who believed he still had control over his house's destiny. Olenna followed at a slower pace, her sharp eyes immediately scanning Oberyn.

"Prince Oberyn," Mace greeted with a bow, "we're honored by your presence here in Highgarden."

"I'm certain you are," Oberyn said, nodding politely but not bowing.

Lady Olenna stepped in front of her son. "Let's not pretend we're here to stroke egos. You came for clarity, not courtesy," she said bluntly. "And I suspect you have more to say than what you offered Renly."

Obara and Nymeria stood back, watching the exchange silently. Oberyn gave a slight bow to Olenna, genuine, though barely.

"You're correct, Lady Olenna," he said. "I came to speak with the true decision-makers of House Tyrell."

Mace blinked. "I—" but Olenna raised a hand, cutting him off.

"Walk with us, Prince Oberyn," she said, motioning toward a side hallway. The three left the hall, as they moved deeper into the quiet corridors of Highgarden.

Once they were out of earshot, Olenna spoke plainly. "You want to unbind Margaery from Renly."

Oberyn gave a slow nod. "And bind her to someone far more capable of changing this realm's fate."

Mace frowned. "Maximus."

Olenna gave him a sidelong look, then turned back to Oberyn. "You came to gauge if we'd go along with it."

"I came to offer something better," Oberyn said. "Margaery Tyrell as one of his Queens. The Empire does not lack beauty, but it does lack sufficient ties to Westerosi nobility. That bond must be forged in numerous places. Why not add the Reach to that?"

Mace looked unconvinced. "Renly is still our best chance to reclaim the throne from Joffrey."

Oberyn tilted his head. "Is he? With no army and a marriage that makes him more liability than leader?"

Lady Olenna spoke before Mace could respond. "You're not wrong. Renly is charming but unfit. Still, we don't break betrothals lightly. The Reach thrives on appearance. The High Septon has already blessed the match."

"The Empire is not the Faith," Oberyn replied. "Maximus does not need blessings to win wars. He commands dragons. And men who would die simply because he asked."

Olenna studied Oberyn carefully. "How has Arianne been treated since her marriage to the emperor."

"Better than any Lord or Lady in Westeros," Oberyn admitted. "She can't keep quiet about how much she is loved by not just the emperor, but also the rest of the Imperial harem. But it's not about Dorne. This is about unity. Dorne and the Vale have already joined the Empire. The North can be called an ally. Even the Riverlands are wavering. What the Empire lacks is enough legitimacy through legacy. In addition to our house, House Tyrell offers that."

Olenna was quiet for a moment. "And what of Margaery? Does Maximus even know her?"

"He's aware of her. I would not come with this offer if he had not signaled openness to it." Oberyn leaned forward slightly. "She would be treated well. Respected. Protected. He is no Joffrey."

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Mace shifted. "You'd have us betray Renly."

Olenna turned to her son, "We'd have us survive, Mace. Perhaps even rise higher than we ever imagined."

Oberyn gave her a smile. "If you agree, I can deliver the message to Maximus myself. The emperor doesn't play games with small men. But he listens to alliances that move the board."

Olenna nodded slowly, considering every angle. "You'll have our answer by the week's end. We'll see how Renly responds when the tides rise."

"And if he resists?" Oberyn asked.

She smirked. "Then he'll have the wedding annulled for... shall we say... unmet expectations?"

Oberyn chuckled and bowed slightly. "I'll await your raven."

As he turned to leave, Olenna placed a hand on Mace's arm. "The continent is heading a different direction and no King on this continent can stop what's coming."

Oberyn left, taking his daughters and escorts back to Dornish land. But a few days after leaving Highgarden, they were surrounded by soldiers bearing the flag of Stannis Baratheon.