Jon Arryn at least shows them the courtesy of looking shamed. Doran studies him for a moment, but only a moment because Oberyn is moving beside him and Doran cannot help but worry about Oberyn. Doran is angry, and grieving, but Oberyn’s grief has become something else.
He would have another war, a war we cannot win.
He sees that Oberyn’s gaze is fixed on the largest of the chests that Jon Arryn has brought. It pains Doran to think of the contents.
“Show me my sister,” Oberyn demands.
The silent sisters move swiftly. Elia is covered with a banner, the banner of House Martell.
“No,” Oberyn says angrily. “You cannot cover what was done to her. We know.”
Jon Arryn remains composed but Doran can see the strain in his face.
“My sister’s return is a beginning,” Doran starts to say before Oberyn cuts him off.
“A beginning?” Oberyn’s voice rings out loudly. “ She hurt no one, and they butchered her. We’ll never hear her laugh again, or see her smile. She was kind, and witty, and she deserved more than this.”
Oberyn is spitting, and Doran wants to tell him he feels the same, that seeing Elia’s remains has stirred his anger too but he is the prince of Dorne. He must think carefully, think of his people, of his children.
There are other chests, and they are so small, and Doran knows what it means. It is meant as an offering of peace, but when the chests are opened Doran has to send Oberyn from the room, for his brother is beyond hearing reason when he sees the tiny forms buried beneath more cloth in their house colours.
House Martell, not Lannister. They no longer need to hide the blood.
Doran does not speak, but he looks. Jon Arryn has averted his eyes, but Doran wants to remember, so he examines every detail, even though his heart is breaking with the effort.
“I have done as you asked, Prince Doran,” Lord Arryn says quietly. “It is our hope that you might convince your brother to make a peace. Peace will serve all of our interests. There has been too much loss already.”
Doran nods, slowly, allowing the older man to think that he is in agreement. He makes certain that he says what he must say, but he cannot forget Elia, and he cannot forget her children. The return of their bones is poor amends. It is no fit response to murder.
Doran will never forget.
Doran will never forgive it.
He will bide his time, because Elia was his sister, a princess of Dorne, and she deserves justice. No matter how long it will take Doran will make certain she gets it.