The burning sands stretched endlessly as the Targaryen banners unfurled before Sunspear.
After months of struggle — of fruitless sieges, poisoned wells, and vanished foes — King Aegon, Queen Visenya, and Queen Rhaenys finally brought their hosts to the very heart of Dorne. Meraxes and Vhagar circled the sky, darkening the sun with their great wings. Balerion the Black Dread roared, his shadow swallowing the long, winding towers of House Martell's seat.
But Sunspear did not tremble.Its gates stood open.Its halls were empty.
The streets of the shadow city below were silent. No spears bristled from the rooftops, no archers lined the walls.
Princess Meria Martell — the Yellow Toad, the last true ruler of Dorne — was nowhere to be found.
The dragons circled higher, searching. Scouts fanned out through the alleys. Sellswords and smallfolk alike were questioned, but none would say where the princess had gone. Some whispered she had fled into the deep desert. Others said she had never been there at all — that the Martells had abandoned Sunspear long before the Targaryens crossed the Red Mountains.
Rhaenys stood beside Aegon atop the Spear Tower, the highest point in Sunspear. Her silver-gold hair was tangled by the hot, dry wind. Visenya was at her other side, face as hard as the stones beneath them.
"They vanish like snakes into the sand," Visenya said coldly. "We cannot rule a city with empty thrones."
"We have Balerion, Vhagar, Meraxes," said Rhaenys. "Let us burn this place to ash."
"No," Aegon said.
He turned to look upon the vastness of Dorne, the blistering deserts, the mountains like jagged knives. He thought of the slaughter it would take to truly conquer this land, of every hidden cave and dried-up riverbed where foes could strike and vanish.
Aegon had seen enough death.
"We have taken their seat. Let the world see it. Dorne belongs to the Iron Throne now."
So it was declared:Dorne was conquered.
King Aegon Targaryen named Lord Jon Rosby as castellan of Sunspear and Warden of the Sands, entrusting him with the governance of the desert kingdom.Lord Harlan Tyrell was left with a greater charge: to put down any uprisings that might stir among the scattered Dornish lords and petty kings.
Satisfied — or seeming so — Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys mounted their dragons once more.
The great Targaryen host broke camp and marched northward, back toward King's Landing, to celebrate their victory.
The lords and smallfolk of Westeros hailed the conquest.Feasts were held. Bells rang.
But in the deep deserts and hidden valleys of Dorne, the blood feud had only begun to stir.
And soon, the dragons would bleed.