Carved out of the sunburnt rocks of the Red Mountains, Eldfall castle overlooked the vastness of the Dornish marches facing the western Stormlands, and beyond, the Reach. Located between the two main passes through the mountains connecting the rest of the Seven Kingdoms to Dorne, the castle was conveniently located without being a place that saw many visitors, or, as the keepers of the castle would often call it, foreigners and intruders. Eldfall had belonged to House Santon since the arrival of the Andals had forced the family to retreat to the Red Mountains. As the Santons lost their influence over the deserts of Dorne, they built their dwelling well-hidden inside the Red Mountains. Watching the mountains from the distance of the Dornish marches, the castle was seemingly invisible, looking like nothing more than a peak among many others. The cool air and humid darkness of the castle’s insides protected the family against the heat of Dorne, while the outside had protected them against invaders and foreign armies. Inside the peak was a myriad of halls and corridors, where the proud family had chosen to remain hidden from the rest of the Seven Kingdoms.

The family was headed by Elden Santon, a man who never forgot how the Martells had driven his ancestors into the Red Mountains and then aligned themselves with King’s Landing to join the Seven Kingdoms. His affection for Prince Martell was strained, and the few times he had visited Sunspear he had quickly left, swearing that he would only remain sworn to the Martells for the sake of the protection of his own house and keep. Elden Santon claimed to be a descendant of the First Men who sat foot on Dornish land, and he did not like being forced to bend to the wills of newer, albeit nobler and more powerful, men. Like many Dornishmen, Elden Santon was both proud and hotheaded, a trait he had passed on to the both his firstborn son Harden and his daughter Eira.

Since Lord Elden was reaching an advanced age, he often let, in accordance with Dornish custom, both his son and his daughter travel across the Kingdoms to gather news for him. Although his castle was well-hidden, its vicinity to the major passes through the Red Mountains meant that he often received news from the rest of Westeros before many other of the houses in Dorne. One day, his daughter Eira came back from a ride through the Stormlands bringing news from King’s Landing. As she knelt before her father, out of breath and just recently off her horse, Eira told him the news that spread throughout Westeros.

“Father”, she began, not knowing whether the news would enrage or please his father. “There are news from King’s Landing. King Robert Baratheon, the Usurper, lies in bed before his death. There are preparations for his son Joffrey to succeed the throne.”

When Lord Elden did not reply, Eira continued.

“Mind you, this is only what I heard as I passed through the Stormlands. The Baratheons are preparing to seize the throne from his son. They believe…”, she stopped, catching her breath. “They believe that Joffrey is not the son of King Robert. They believe that he is Cersei’s bastard. Stannis and Renly Baratheon are...”

Enraged by the news that he was not only currently ruled by a usurper, but would soon be ruled by a Lannister bastard, Lord Elden left Eira before she had time to finish her sentence and retreated with proud, angry steps to his private chambers. First, his family had been forced hundred of years ago into the mountains by the Martells. Then, the Martells had allied themselves with the Targaryens, forcing the Santons to join the Seven Kingdoms as a part of Dorne. The throne had been usurped by the Baratheons, and now it was to be succeeded by the bastard son of that wretched Lannister woman? He could accept being a part of Dorne, where his family had lived for centuries before him, but being ruled by the greed of the Lannisters? Something had to be done… and it had to be done quickly.

Northwest of Highgarden the stone walls of Carsley Keep stood unashamedly. The pride of the residents was evident from the many banners that graced the wall. A relaxed, golden peacock against a teal background. The brightness of the cloth stood out against the typical grey drab of the castle walls and was indicative of House Tilden who resided within. The Tilden’s were still a fairly new family, being only a few generations old. They earned their rank when the previous holder of Carsley Keep died without an heir, leaving his workhands to take over the castle. Despite their shaky origins House Tilden was quick to prove itself valuable to The Reach, and subsequently The Seven Kingdoms.

Each generation seemed to stumble on something new to bolster their standing, cementing themselves further as a proper noble house. Now in its fifth generation, with Lord Warreck and his brood, that the house goals began to shift. Four generations before him spent their lives building both resource and knowledge, and with that to stand Warreck put his efforts instead into trade. Lining the family coffers with gold and amassing a large fortune. While they still couldn’t shake a stick at the Tyrells, House Tilden had become a point of envy amongst the small families of The Reach.

The lush gardens that took up the majority of the courtyard were oddly quiet. With the five children of the lord and lady, three of whom were still toddlers, it was a rare time to not hear the sounds of play. Instead only Lord Warreck and his eldest daughter Naeva were walking the path, chatting quietly. It was that short time of day when the adults were awake while the little ones still snored in the nursery. It therefore came as a shock when they heard the telltale sound of the castle gates opening.

“Are you expecting someone, Father?” Naeva asked politely, hearing the footsteps making its way towards them. Lord Warreck only shook his head in response and continued with their previous conversation of suitors for the young lady. Whoever it was he was certain they were no threat as no alarm had sounded. It was a few moments later that the man owning the footsteps found them caught up. He bent to one knee, rising again immediately.

“M’lord,” He stopped, clearly out of breath. The Tilden gardens never were difficult to get lost in, especially to those unfamiliar with them. “I have word from Lord Tyrell,” He pulled a scroll from his bag, holding it out for Lord Warreck. Rolling out the scroll only a few inches from his face, Lord Warreck strained his eyes to read. His old age was creeping up on him rather quickly he found. Naeva stood on her toes and attempted to read over his shoulder.

“It says that King Baratheon is dead, father,” She spoke boredly.

Lord Warreck had to stop himself from shaking his head at her indignation, “I saw that. It also says that Lord Tyrell wants us to back him in Renly’s claim…” He read further down, “It would appear that Joffrey is not Robert’s son.” The possibilities raced through his mind and how his family could benefit, regardless of the outcome. Turning back to his daughter to continue their ritual morning walk. Naeva wore dark smirk on her delicate features, only scarcely hidden by the vibrant red of her hair.

As Lord Elden stood in his chambers, he watched the Dornish marches stretching all across the Stormlands to The Reach through the small windows carved out of the red stone of his castle. Beyond this vast landmass lay the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, kingdoms that would soon come to know that their rising King had no claim to the Iron Throne upon which he sat. In his younger days, before Robert Baratheon had usurped the throne, Elden would have been sure that no Lord in all of the Seven Kingdoms would kneel before a bastard king. Of course, being from Dorne, Elden did not truly care for such trivial matters as legitimate or illegitimate children and heirs. He was not foreign to bastard children, having one or two of his own spread throughout Dorne. What irked him was that if the new King was born out of wedlock, he would be of Lannister blood and under Lannister protection, unless some noble Lord stepped up and claimed to be a father of the boy. If Elden had outlived the Targaryen dynasty and the Baratheon reign, he would ensure that the Lannisters would not last long enough to outlive him either.

In the hall where Lord Elden had left his daughter and her news without a word, Eira remain positioned on the cool stone floor, still catching her breath from the intense ride through Baratheon's Stormlands. Her eyes, seemingly expressionless, were fixed on the spot where her father had stood before storming away to his own privacy. She had not known whether the news would please her father, and judging from his reaction she still did not know. Eira sighed heavily before hearing footsteps approaching down the hall. If it was her father’s, he had recovered from the news quickly, for the steps were lighter and brisker.

”Sister!”, a voice broke the silence of the hall where she sat. As Eira turned around, her older brother seized her by the waist, not all too gently. Although the two legitimate Santon siblings were very alike, both in manner and appearance, Harden rarely showed the same soft affection for his sister that was often seen between brothers and sisters farther north in the Seven Kingdoms. Treating her like the brother he never had, he patted her heavily on the back before retreating to a distance to look at her. Both Eira and Harden greatly resembled their passed mother in appearance, a fiery Roynish woman with jet black hair and olive skin tanned under the rays of the Dornish sun. The only sign that told of their father’s claimed descent from the First Men of Dorne was the blue eyes they had inherited from their father. ”It took you quite some time to return.”

Once more, Eira sighed heavily before telling the news of King Robert’s death and the alleged heir claiming the Iron Throne to her brother.
”But Eira, my sister, those are great news”, he exclaimed. ”Tell me, how did the old man react?”

Harden could barely hide his excitement at the prospect of a young bastard boy of Lannister descent claiming the throne. He provided the exact reaction as his sister had wished from her father, namely the reaction of someone who directly saw the golden opportunity at hand. If the young boy was indeed illegitimate, no Lord would pledge their swords to protect the King. If that was so, the Seven Kingdoms were at their most fragile state. After Eira told Harden of their father’s reaction, Harden shook his head.

”He knows what we know”, he said. ”If there was ever a moment when the Seven Kingdoms could fall apart, it would be now. Soon he will be back in this very room, and you know what that means.”

The two siblings looked at each other before exchanging devious smiles. Perhaps the time had finally come.

A few short days passed and Lord Warreck stood before an army of five thousand men. It was a small drop in the pond of The Reach’s hundred thousand or more, but given his families developing status it was an admirable count. The roar of chatter from the men below him was nothing in comparison to the screaming children at his back. As per tradition his family stood to see him off to war. Though their form left a little to be desired. Instead of the proper straight line they were supposed to be stood in it became a tug of war between the women children. Thankfully the distance from the ground to the top of the castle walls disallowed the men to see the struggle. His wife, Lady Olira’s was doing all she could to hide the workout it was to old back the young girl in her hands. Her hand engulfed the child’s wrist with a tight grip, requiring more might than it should to stop her from barreling at her father. Lady Olira smiled thinly, trying to keep her regal appearance while simultaneously deflecting the small fists and kicks,

“Esme behave,” The Lady spoke warningly though the behaviour continued. Next to her Naeva faired only a slight better with the young Perienne. Copying her twin the small girl fought the older girl, though not fraction as violent. The weak pulling and whines were clearly a show, whomever it was to impress though was a wonder. Unlike her mother Naeva gave little care for delicacy when dealing with the child. Hoisting the child into her arms and using her hand as a muffle had proved effective before and so Naeva forwent her ladylike appearance to use it again. Grimacing as she felt the slime of her sisters spit on the palm of her hand.

“No! Stop! That’s not food! Ow ow ow,” The lords second daughter could be heard shouting as she fought for control of her hair. Her pleas did little to stop the babe from pushing more into his mouth. A happy gurgle came from the youngest child and only son of Lord Warreck as he seemingly took joy in his sister’s pain. “Take him!” Teora begged pushing him towards her elder sister who followed suit, handing over Perienne.

“Gladly,” Naeva sighed believing if she was to be a meal to her siblings, she’d greatly prefer Channer nibbling her clothes to Perienne biting her hand. The three women gave each other exasperated looks as they waited for the lord’s typically long speech to finish. It had become standard for Lord Warreck to give longwinded speeches whenever he reasonably could, so common in fact that the men had long since grown comfortable to speak over him. His speeches were rarely more than incredible rant anyways. The sky began to redden and the sun started its descent before Lord Warreck gave an indication of being done.

“And so it is unto us to preserve the dignity of not only The Reach, but the entire Seven Kingdoms! We will not rest—“He entered a guard tower to descend to the ground, continuing his speech as if the men could still hear. Reaching the bottom he mounted a horse that had been set out for him, raising his sword in a show of grandeur, “—Onwards men!” No one would ever know if the subsequent shout of the army was one of solidarity and support or a celebration of the speeches end. Naeva rolled her eyes as she swapped Channer for Esme, relieving her mother of the girl, before leading her along with Teora and Perienne down the gardens.

“My feet ache,” Teora nodded in agreement with the statement as she plucked apart her baby-spit tangled hair. “Come Teora, I’ll fix that for you,” They let the twins go and took place on a bench. Naeva pulled a comb out from the inner layer of her dress and began working through the red tresses. The Tilden children all look more or less the same, matching the lineage of their father. Fair skinned, they all sported light brown eyes and an almost unnatural hue of bright auburn hair. In the exception of Esme, who was bizarrely dark. Slightly tanned with black hair and chocolate eyes, she didn’t resemble either parent.

Being the impulsive man he was, Lord Elden did not take long before sending his children and men out across Dorne and the Stormlands to gather more information. He did not take long to decide that he actually liked that Joffrey Baratheon was a Lannister bastard. Like his children, he saw King Robert Baratheon's death for what it was - an opportunity for change across all of the Seven Kingdoms. A change that, if they played their cards in the right manner, would be in their favour.

The Red Mountains, where the Santon family resided, was surrounded by either Dornishmen, officially alleging with the bastard king Joffrey, or supporters of house Baratheon from the Stormlands or The Reach. As the news spread that most men of The Reach would side with the popular Renly Baratheon, both Eira and Harden were sent to investigate the armies and supporters that the young Baratheon had managed to amass. Lord Elden had sent his two children alone, without neither armies nor men to support them. Not only because of Lord Elden’s lack of impressive Santon armies, but also because the two siblings would be fast enough to reach the lands of the Tyrells to see what armies they had gathered in order to return to the Stormlands in time to meet Lord Renly before his armies reached him.

"Brother, tell me", Eira shouted as they pressed on across the Stormlands into the Reach on their swift, Dornish horses. "Do you think father would like to side with the young Lord Renly?"

"I think he would side with anyone should the Lord give us what our father wants", Harden replied sourly. They had travelled without many necessary breaks for a very long while, and Harden's weariness started to show. In reality, Harden believed that his father would only manage side with whichever King he chose for a short while, before the King would lose House Stanton's sworn allegiance and favour. "Come on, press on. The sooner we're there, the better."

"Listen!", Eira exclaimed. Harden halted suddenly, and stared intensively at his sister stopping by his side. Focusing on the sounds he could hear in the distance, he furrowed his brows. Eira shielded her eyes against the gazing sun, and looked towards the lands from which the sounds seemed to come from. The occasional shouting, a loud cheer and rhythmic stomping resonated throughout the humid thickness of the late summer air. "It sounds like... an army. Are we this near Highgarden already?"

"We should be in The Reach, yes", Harden answered thoughtfully. "But not that near Highgarden, not yet. If the Tyrells did not decide to march this way, it must be someone else's forces."

Deciding to investigate from where the sounds came, the two Santon siblings urged their horses forward. After a few minutes, they saw the mass of a smaller sized army approaching in the distance, and beyond, a castle flying banners of a golden peacock resting on a field of teal.

"Carsley Keep", Harden said quietly to himself as the two slowly rode forward. "Seat of the House Tilden.”

He did not know much about the house, despite their banners and supposed alliance with the Tyrells, an alliance which they clearly seemed to honour. That was, if they were indeed marching to support Renly Baratheon.

Together the Tilden girls sat and played in the gardens, a rare moment of quiet sisterhood. The oldest two having long since ignored the antics of their small siblings. Far too focused on their vanity they had thought nothing of the growing silence around them. Since they entered the world the twins had been wild and adventurous, with their father’s heart softening with age they were also often left to do as they pleased. So it was natural that when the small girls disappeared into the hedges their sisters gave no thought of it. Instead the continued to work on one anothers appearances. What had started as Naeva fix the damage done to her sister’s hair by way of her brothers teeth, had become a spa treatment for the both of them. A few orders to the right servants had seen them with cleansing masks on their face and hair assembled in shapes that made no sense. Not works of modern fashion trends but rather the imaginations of two young girls having a good time. They chatted loud and unabashedly for about any and everything for a seeming several hours. So lost in the moment, that had someone asked about their younger sisters, they might very well have forgotten they existed.

This played perfectly with young Esme’s bravery and wanderlust. Her twin Perienne coming along as little more than a loyal follower. Somehow without being caught they had managed to make all the way to the castle gate. It had only been a short while before that they had stood up there and watched their father depart. He was going an adventure. From the moment she had found out Esme had begged and pleaded to accompany him, but it was one of the few requests he had denied from her. She hated this. Sneaking past the guards with the stealth of a mouse, Esme made it onto the other side of the wall designed to keep her in and others out. Clearly it wasn’t terribly effective. Looking behind her she saw that Perienne hadn’t followed suit. Too frightened to join the outside world she had instead chose speak with the guards, distracting them. Smiling at her sister’s assistance Esme took off into the woods, holding her skirts up as she went. Not quite able to catch up with the men, she kept a close enough distance to be able to see them.

Lord Warreck meanwhile marched at the front of the small amalgamation of men, happily shouting commands occasionally opting to converse with the two generals that flanked him. Despite Carsley Keep still being visible behind them, they had actually been marching for the better half of two hours. The field in which Carsley Keep sat was simply just that flat. He was a man on a mission. In all honesty he didn’t care much who took the throne, be it Renly, Stannis or hell even Joffrey. As long as he could see a way for his own house to benefit. At the current moment, remaining loyal to the Tyrells would curry favour within the Reach. Even if they lost, it was proof of their loyalty and reliability. It had worked for them when he sat sidelong with Mace Tyrell in defense of the Targaryen’s. So he had no doubt that it would work now. The Tyrells had a remarkable talent for staying in the king’s good graces despite the many times that had stood against the crown. He had figured that the Reach’s fertile nature and the Tyrells fat coffers had the most credit for it. Lost in both conversation and thought, he had paid no mind when his men passed by two people on horseback. He had assumed them to be common travelers and kept on his path.

“Quite a sizeable army”, Harden whispered to his sister as the caravan of men passed by them. In fact, it was not particularly impressive compared to the Tyrell armies, so Harden was quick to alter his statement. “For such a small house”, he added, thinking of his own house’s small, almost non-existent forces. Living in the Red Mountains, the Santons lacked the resources to amass large armies. Instead, they relied on their cunning and wit to nestle themselves into the Dornish politics. The two siblings watched the army march by, but made no effort to make themselves seen or heard. Instead, they started slowly moving toward House Tilden’s castle, urging their horses slowly forward. A light breeze caressed the grassy fields, providing a much needed break from the scorching sun rays above their heads. Being from Dorne, one could assume that the siblings were used to the heat - but living in the mountains was cooler than living in the Dornish desert, so they welcomed the wind.

“We should investigate whether Lord Tilden and his family have left, or whether they are staying”, Eira told her brother. For a couple of minutes, they debated whether they should travel beyond Carsley Keep and gather more information about the rest of The Reach, but both of them were tired after days on horseback and needed something else to do than rushing across The Stormlands and The Reach, watching armies march them by. “If they remain in the keep, we can pray to the gods that they will let us know what their plans are… or at least let us know what plans they know others to have.”

Harden found it difficult to argue against Eira’s reasoning, so they soon found themselves close enough to Carsley Keep to see its walls rising above their heads, blocking the sun slowly descending from its highest point in the sky. It was afternoon, perhaps even nearing the end of the afternoon, when they rode up to the gates of the castle and declared who they were.

“Harden and Eira of House Santon in the Dornish Red Mountains”, Harden proclaimed with a loud and deep voice to the guards. “We are the children of Lord Elden, and we are here to meet the Lords and Ladies of House Tilden”, he continued, watching the guards with a furrowed brow. Eira knew the look - it was the look of her brother as he tried to make the impression of a great and powerful man. He sure could look the part, with his dark looks and tall stature, but knowing her brother made his impression less… impressive. Harden was a skilled rider and a great swordsman, but he was less of a politician who visited the houses of great nobles. Not that anyone from the Santon family was, but Eira liked to think that she was blessed with more of diplomatic skills than the rest of the family. Still, she kept silent. She knew that the rest of the Seven Kingdoms were not like Dorne, where she was born with more rights than most other women in all of Westeros. Most guards would not appreciate a woman shouting her demands to meet the noble lord of a house, so for now, she left Harden to speak.

Mesmerised by the horse-riding duo, Esme had stared at them for so long that she had fallen a fair bit behind her father’s army. She couldn’t take her eyes off the pair though. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen foreigners, not by a long shot, but it was definitely the first time she’d seen foreigners from wherever they were from. It was also the first time she had seen people who looked so much like her. Esme had long since noticed the differences between her and the rest of the Tilden children. She was surrounded by people who sported fair coloured skin, eyes and even hair. These two however, much like Esme herself, wore darker olive-coloured skin with black hair. Though Esme was perhaps even a bit darker in her skintone, and unlike them her eyes were nearly black in colour. Still, she watched them in wonder until the disappeared over the horizon. And when she turned around she realised that her father had disappeared in the opposite direction. Panicking she began to run in the last direction she saw them going.

---

Back at Carsley Keep the entire castle had been thrown into a riot. It hadn’t taken long for Lady Olira to notice that the young girl was missing. It took even less time to get Perienne to reveal the truth. Immediately guards had been sent out in a ten mile radius while everyone inside scoured the grounds. Shouts of “Have you found her?” were being tossed left and right as the panic grew steadily higher. It had been no mystery within the castle that Lord Warreck favoured Esme over his other children, including his only son. So the prospect of her going missing, or worse, was not something anyone inside looked forward to. Least of all his wife and children.
“We should send a message to father,” Teora said, shyly approaching her now frantic mother. Her only response being a look that seemed to question her sanity. “Well,” Her voice wavered, now unsure of herself, “She probably followed him… and he has more people who can look…” She trailed as the look her mother gave her only became increasingly horrified. Realizing that her advice wasn’t entirely welcomed she decided to check in on the guards at the gate, hopefully some news had come in.

As she approached the gate on of the guards held up a hand, stopping her.

“M’lady, there are people requesting an audience,” He spoke quietly so that only she could hear him.

“At a time like this?” She sighed heavily, “I’ll greet them.” By technicality she had no authority to do so, but they didn’t need to know that right now. Turning around the corner she was greeted by a dornish man and woman on horseback. Suddenly she felt very out of place. At only thirteen she wasn’t even an adult, while these two clearly were. Being greeted by a child, she only could wonder how offended they must have been. In an attempt to look older Teora stood straighter and tried to carry herself in a more ‘lady-like’ fashion. “I am Lady Teora, second daughter to Lord Tilden. To what do we owe this visit?” She tried to sound haughty and important, but got the impression that she sounded much more like child playing make believe.