This story is Canon Divergent.

Rated M For Future Chapters.
Trigger Warning: Violence, Death, Sex and General Adult Content.

These triggers are for later on in the story. If other triggers appear, I will mention them in a note beforehand.

The first chapter of this story features dialogue from 'The Watcher' chapter of A Dance With Dragons quite heavily.
It will diverge more greatly after this first chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own anything from the A Song of Ice and Fire Series. All of it belongs to George RR Martin.

The Dragon Has Three Heads

By ulalumeterpsichore

Chapter One

Nymeria I

Nymeria Sand stared at the supposed head of her father's murderer. She could hear her Uncle speak gravely, declaring that The Mountain, Ser Gregor Clegane, rode no more. She still held her reservations though. Looks could be deceiving – a fact she was well versed in – and the fact that the Lannisters may lie and deceive the Prince of Dorne had been well discussed between her and her sisters.

Tyene spoke softly and sweetly to the Kingsguard who delivered the head. "Was his dying long and hard, Ser Balon?"

Ser Balon Swann looked a little squeamish, whether from the question or the decapitated head on display in front of them all Nym was not sure. "He screamed for days, my lady. We could hear him all over the Red Keep."

Nymeria scoffed, demanding attention from the burly knight. He had failed to look at her since he had entered the Old Palace and she knew it was from the attire that she wore. Those from the other kingdoms had always been uncomfortable in her sense of dress. She liked to play on that discomfort, wield it like a weapon when she could not hide true weapons under the sheerness of her dress.

Today she wore a yellow silk dress. If she stood in the right lighting, as she did now, it was sheer enough to reveal the spun gold and jewels that she held underneath it. She couldn't hide any weapons underneath a dress this sheer. She normally kept a dozen blades upon her person but she could not today. Today was important to show a willingness to cooperate with the Lannisters and Baratheons that stole her family's throne.

That didn't mean that she wanted the White Knight to feel comfortable.

"Does that trouble you, ser?" she asked of Ser Balon. "Ser Gregor was a bloody brute, all men agree. If ever a man deserved to suffer, it was him."

I must not think of all I have lost at his hand, thought Nymeria. I must not think.

"That is as it may be, my lady," Ser Balon replied. "But Ser Gregor was a knight, and a knight should die with a sword in hand. Poison is a foul and filthy way to kill."

Nym could feel Tyene smile pleasantly at that. Poison was Tyene's specialty. She had worked with their father to poison the man whose head now lay in front of them. She may look the most sweet and innocent of all of the Viper's daughters but anyone who truly knew her knew not to abide by her chaste persona. She could be as deadly as Obara if she wished to be. And death by her hand would always be slower and more painful than anything Obara lashed out.

Her uncle, Prince Doran, did not seem pleased with Ser Balon's assessment according to the frown on his face. "That is so, Ser Balon, but the Lady Nym is right. If ever a man deserved to die screaming, it was Gregor Clegane. He butchered my good sister, smashed her babe's head against a wall. I only pray that now he is burning in some hell, and that Elia and her children are at peace. This is the justice that Dorne has hungered for. I am glad that I lived long enough to taste it. At long last the Lannisters have proved the truth of their boast and paid this old blood debt."

Her uncle's words rang in her ears – that Elia and her children are at peace.

There were many secrets that the Dornish kept. Even though the Martell's were an extremely close family, there were even some secrets that they could not reveal to each other. The secret of her very existence was one of those secrets. That Nymeria was not her true given name.

It had been a secret held between only herself and her father, Oberyn. Of course, Oberyn was not her real father. Her real father had died at the hands of Robert Baratheon, a blow from his warhammer had ended her father's life at the Trident. His last words for a woman that was neither his wife or his daughter. For the other wife. The wolf woman.

Rhaenys Nymeria Rhaella Targaryen had been lucky. One of her family's White Knights had saved her. She could not remember his name. She could only remember his golden hair and white cloak. Nym had only been three years old at the time. He had coaxed her from out under her bed and replaced her with a peasant girl. Nym had heard what had happened to that girl. She had been stabbed to death, her body unrecognisable. It had been her safety. Her mother and brother had not been so lucky. It was the head that was displayed to them now that had bashed her baby brother's head against a wall and then raped and killed her mother.

Nymeria wanted to feel vengeance that justice had been served for her family. All she felt was unease. As a toast was held for the little Baratheon King, Nym could not toast. She refused to as did her sisters. Obara and Tyene wanted vengeance for Prince Oberyn. Nymeria wanted it for her whole family.

For all that she had lost.

Obara was not pleased at the toast directed to their enemies. She was sure that their uncle would reprimand them later for the display. But Nymeria thought it was just. Let those Knights, Lions and Stags squirm at the prospect of the Snakes of Sunspear. There would be a reckoning but they would not let their enemies be prepared.

Obara stormed out of the room in protest. Their cousin, Princess Arianne Martell, followed after her. Nymeria was glad. While she wanted to comfort and calm down her sister, it was far more important for her to stay in the room and listen to anything her Uncle or the White Knight had to say. Oberyn had taught her well. She needed to watch everything. Analyse everything so that one day, she could take her rightful place on the Iron Throne.

Whilst vengeance for Elia's death had been Oberyn's primary motivation for a long time, the welfare and safety of his niece had always been a priority. It had been his greatest wish to see her take the Iron Throne one day.

He had died before he was able to see that dream become a reality.

Nym would not let him down.

After their father had died, Nymeria had to make a decision. Prince Oberyn had been the only one to know the secret of her birth. He had hidden her as one of his own daughters. He did not trust that the Lannisters and the pretender Robert Baratheon would not seek to kill every last remnant of the Targaryen family that resided in Westeros. They had no qualms in killing a child that was meant to be her. They would have no qualms to do it again. Prince Oberyn did not trust his brother either with this knowledge. He would not jeopardise their niece's safety. They had always seen Prince Oberyn as the more heated one, the one that could not keep calm and strategise, not like Prince Doran.

But he would do anything for Elia. He would do anything to keep the Princess Rhaenys safe.

When Prince Oberyn died, her secret could have died with him. She could have simply been Lady Nymeria Sand. Rhaenys Targaryen could truly die with him.

Nymeria could not see that happen. She could not see those who had sanctioned the murder of an innocent woman and her children be victorious in this story. It was unjust.

So upon the death of Prince Oberyn, Nymeria decided to confide in Tyene. Although they weren't truthfully sisters, Nym would always consider her as such. All the Sand Snakes were her sisters, not by nature but rather by nuture. They had been raised to be as such.

There was not much that could shock Lady Tyene Sand, but revealing that the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen had been hiding in plain sight had been one of them. While she did not doubt in her trust for Tyene, Nym had expressly forbidden her from informing Arianne or their sisters. Tyene was extremely close to their cousin and they told each other everything. The deception they played together had allowed for Princess Myrcella to lose an ear. Arianne would be tempted to tell Prince Doran about the fate of Rhaenys Targaryen.

Nymeria could not take that risk. They would all know in time.

~o~

Nym felt that her Uncle was keeping a secret from her and her sisters. She sensed that Arianne knew of his plans for all throughout the feast in Ser Balon's honour both of the Martell's tried to play the knight for a fool. Or in Arianne's case, seduce him to her side at least. It seemed that Ser Balon was more wary than his more handsome predecessor, Ser Arys Oakheart.

As soon as they left the table and helped their Uncle to his chambers, Obara launched into him, oblivious to the subtleties that were on display in front of the White Knight. Her anger was still present in every word, in every step. "You cannot seriously intend to send Trystane and Myrcella to King's Landing. Do that, and we will never see the girl again, and your son will spend his life a hostage to the Iron Throne."

Prince Doran sighed. "Do you take me for a fool, Obara? There is much you do not know. Things best not discussed here, where anyone can hear. If you hold your tongue, I may enlighten you. Slower," he motioned to his niece who wheeled his chair. "For the love you bear me. That last jolt sent a knife right through my knee."

Obara grunted and slowed her pace. Nymeria was curious at what her Uncle could know. "What will you do, then?"

Tyene spoke up. "What he always does. Delay, obscure, prevaricate. Oh, no one does that half as well as our brave uncle."

"You do him wrong," defended Arianne.

Prince Doran had enough. "Be quiet, all of you." The women all around him went silent as they approached and entered his solar. He wheeled himself to face the women that made up his family. Martell women were the strong ones. They were the warriors.

Princess Arianne ran to her father's side. "Let me help you, father."

The blanket that covered his legs had caught up under the wheel of his chair. He yanked it free before Arianne could help. His face was disgruntled and yet proud. "I can still master mine own blanket. That much at least."

Maester Caleotte bowed towards the Prince, scurrying around the Martell family with Ser Gregor's head clutched in his hands. "Shall I fetch my prince a thimble cup of milk of the poppy?"

"I would need a bucket, with this pain. Thank you, but no. I want my wits about me. I'll have no more need of you tonight."

The Maester bowed once more. "Very good, my prince."

Obara, who continued to be disgruntled over the whole day's events, snatched Ser Gregor's skull from the Maester's hands. "I'll take that," she said as she took it and began to analyse the skull. "What did the Mountain look like? How do we know that this is him? They could have dipped the head in tar. Why strip it to the bone?"

Nymeria had to agree with her sister. She did not trust the Lannisters to offer true redemption to her family. To see just punishment served for her mother and brother. "Tar would have ruined the box," she commented with a wry smile. "No one saw the Mountain die, and no one saw his head removed. That troubles me, I confess, but what could the bitch queen hope to accomplish by deceiving us? If Gregor Clegane is alive, soon or late the truth will out. The man was eight feet tall, there is not another like him in all of Westeros. If any such appears again, Cersei Lannister will be exposed as a liar before all of the Seven Kingdoms. She would be an utter fool to risk that. What could she hope to gain?"

She had a lot of time to think over possible machinations of Cersei Lannister. She always had too much time to think. She would rather fight but she knew that she had to plan. Her father, her Oberyn, had taught her that much. She would not betray that teaching.

Prince Doran pondered Nymeria's words. "The skull is large enough, no doubt. And we know that Oberyn wounded Gregor grievously. Every report we have had since claims that Clegane died slowly, in great pain."

Nymeria noticed Tyene smile coyly. "Just as Father intended - sisters, truly, I know the poison Father used. If his spear so much as broke the Mountain's skin, Clegane is dead, I do not care how big he was. Doubt your little sister if you like, but never doubt our sire."

Obara bristled at the accusation and then did something that even Nymeria found disturbing, she mockingly kissed the skull of Ser Gregor. "I never did and never shall. This is a start, I'll grant."

Nymeria saw Ellaria Sand's eyes widen. Ellaria had been like a mother to Nym and her sisters as soon as she had become Oberyn's paramour. Yet, Ellaria was never trusted with the truth of her birth. "A start? Gods forbid. I would it were a finish. Tywin Lannister is dead. So are Robert Baratheon, Amory Lorch, and now Gregor Cleganem all those who had a hand in murdering Elia and her children. Even Joffrey, who was not yet born when Elia died. I saw the boy perish with mine own eyes, clawing at his throat as he tried to draw a breath. Who else is there to kill? Do Myrcella and Tommen need to die so the shades of Rhaenys and Aegon can be at rest? Where does it end?"

Tyene and Nymeria shared a look at Ellaria's outburst. The shades of Rhaenys were very much alive. They could never be 'put to rest' as Ellaria phrased it. Nymeria wanted vengeance for her family. To her family's words, Fire And Blood, she would be true.

"It ends in blood, as it began," Nym stated, her voice soft but filled with steel. They all knew she was deadly. "It ends when Casterly Rock is cracked open, so the sun can shine on the maggots and the worms within. It ends with the utter ruin of Tywin Lannister and all his works."

Ellaria snapped back at her. "The man died at the hand of his own son. What more could you wish?"

Her lips, as red as wine, curled in a knowing smile as she settled into a chair. Her hair was in its typical braid. It was long and dark and fell across one shoulder into her lap. Her leg crossed casually across the other, looking the image of sensuality, especially due to the yellow sheer silk of her garment.

"I could wish that he died at my hand. If he had, his dying would not have been so easy."

Nymeria felt no qualms in stating this. Tywin Lannister was the reason that her true family was gone. Only her Aunt Daenerys remained. And possibly one other, Nymeria mused internally, if she remembered the stories her true father told her when she was only three. But they both remain clueless to the survival of Rhaenys Targaryen.

~o~

Nymeria sighed as she finally reached her bedchamber. She had no need of company tonight. Her thoughts were company enough. The conversation with their uncle had lasted a little longer. Ellaria had left in tears to return to her daughters. Prince Doran had made the three Sand Snakes remaining at the Old Palace to swear allegiance to him, an oath on their father's grave.

She had done so. Though she still thought Prince Oberyn the better man.

Prince Doran had laid out a task for them all. He would not be accompanying the Princess Myrcella Baratheon and Trystane back to King's Landing, that job was to now fall to Nymeria. She would be a new viper in a snake pit, the eyes and ears of Dorne. Cersei Lannister would not like a bastard sitting on the small council. But it was better that she saw it that way. It would do Nym no good if they knew it was Rhaenys Targaryen sitting there, advising on how to run a country that should be hers.

Her Uncle was not aware of this fact either. Otherwise he would never let her go.

She was much more valuable as a Princess than as a Bastard.

This was another reason that she kept this information secret.

It was a comfort to know that Tyene was given a task to complete in King's Landing as well. Her task was on the other hill though, in the Great Sept. The fact that Tyene's mother was a Septa and had read the Seven-Pointed Star to her in her infant years was a blessing in this case. She was to learn the secrets that were being kept there. Apparently the Sword and Stars had re-formed and the new High Septon was not a puppet like the previous High Septons were.

Their Uncle wanted Tyene to become close to the High Septon in her disguise as a Septa. When she had been able to talk to her in private before heading to bed, they had both agreed that this was a good idea as well. If the High Septon was not loyal to this crown and to Queen Cersei, well they might be able to convince him that a new Queen was in order. Tyene had always been good at working people to a cause.

She would miss her sister but at least she would be in King's Landing with her, not like Obara who was tasked with hunting down Gerald Dayne.

As she fell to sleep, Nymeria dreamed of what she always did. She dreamed about sitting on the Iron Throne, the crown on her head. She dreamed of Dragons reborn. She dreamed of justice and vengeance. She dreamed of fire and blood.