Obara
Obara nudged her horse through the streets of Planky Town, the clip-clop sound echoing off the walls of the nearby buildings, mixed with the occasional squelch of mud as her steed stepped somewhere it possibly shouldn't have.
People scrambled to make way for Obara and Sarella, and some of them even bowed their heads respectfully as though she were some great lady.
More likely they think me some lady's messenger, Obara thought sourly. She had, after all, inherited the looks of her dockside whore mother rather than her princely father. She dressed more like a common sellsword than anything else, or so Nym said. No, those who bowed did so because they sought she served a highborn, not because they thought her one herself.
Or perhaps it was for Sarella that they bowed, Sarella who did not seem even to notice as she rode her horse in Obara's wake. Sarella, despite her boyish looks, possessed some of the grace and poise that Nym had mastered and Obara lacked. A Summer Isles princess.
A princess who cannot keep her mouth shut.
"Some of the works I read in the citadel appear to suggest that dragons grow larger under conditions of greater freedom," Sarella was saying. "It is said that the dragons that grew in the dragonpit in King's Landing never reached the size of Balerion of Vhagar. That's strange, don't you think? After all, it isn't as though the smallfolk are any smaller than we are, despite being less free."
"What's strange is how you have not yet worn out your voice," Obara muttered. "You've been talking all the way from Oldtown."
Sarella either did not hear or choose to ignore her. "There is so much even the maesters did not understand about dragons. I think even the Valryians themselves considered them to be mysteries. I wonder if I will have the chance to solve any of them when we reach Danaerys?"
"We aren't going east so you can indulge your curiosity," Obara said. "So long as the Queen's dragons can fight, fly and breathe fire that is all that I require of them."
"You've never liked to think too hard, have you?" Sarella said, amusement in her tone.
Obara looked behind her. "I'm thinking very hard about knocking a few of your teeth out."
Sarella laughed. "Are you not in the least bit curious about this. Dragons, by the seven! We're going to see what no Dornishman has seen since the Dragonsbane's day. Does the prospect not excite you?"
"The prospect of a war excites me," Obara replied. "The prospect of leading twenty thousand Dornishmen to war excites me. The prospect of tearing down the golden lion from his perch excites me. Dragons...dragons are a necessity. Or so Prince Doran thinks, at any road."
"You don't agree?" Sarella asked.
"Whether I agree or not is irrelevant," Obara said. "Father has commanded, Prince Doran has commanded. The course is set."
"So you don't agree," Sarella said.
Obara reined in her steed, pulling on the reins until the horse came to a snorting, shuffling, stamping halt. She turned to look her sister in the eye. "Robert Baratheon needed no dragons to take the throne and kill Princess Elia."
"Robert Baratheon had Stark, Arryn and Tully aligned with him," Sarella replied. "What do we have but a thirst for vengeance?"
"Surprise," Obara said. "Strength and boldness and valour."
"Valour is a poor substitute for numbers," Sarella said. "So uncle says, at any rate."
"Uncle is an old woman."
"Father would not like to hear you say that," Sarella murmured.
"Are you going to tell him?" Obara demanded. She sighed. "Dragons. I may not have your book learning, but aren't dragons dangerous?"
"Extremely," Sarella said. "During the Dance, they wiped out whole armies."
"So we're going to try and ride a tiger, then," Obara said. "It seems acceptable to find the prospect...uncertain."
Sarella smirked. "So if you're so afraid, why are you coming?"
"I said uncertain, not afraid," Obara snapped. "And I'm coming because Father asked me too. That, and because there's no way I'm letting you and Nym take all the glory for this when the songs are written of it. Whether we return to Dorne in triumph or burn in dragonfire our names will never be forgotten, and I want my name to be a part of that. If I must be a Sand I will at least be a famous one."
Sarella laughed again. "I daresay you will. And don't worry, I won't tell Nym or Tyene that you were scared."
Obara scowled. "If you do, I'll stab you in the neck."
Sarella kept on laughing.
It took only a little longer to find the auspiciously named Dragon's Eye inn - the sign above the door showed the head of Meraxes, eye pierced by a dart - where father had arranged for their party to assemble before departing. While Obara went to Oldtown to get Sarella and Father made the preparations for their journey, Nym had been sent on ahead to find a ship to take them across the Narrow Sea. Hopefully she had found one and would be waiting for them inside.
Obara and Sarella dismounted, and handed off their horses to one of the stablehands.
Obara paused, rubbing the muzzle of her black stallion with one hand. I may never see you again. I may never return, and if I do I may not pass this way. Yet we may meet again, if the Seven will.
"Something wrong?" Sarella asked, her voice halfways between solicitous and sarcastic.
Obara patted the muzzle of her horse once more, and walked away. "No. Nothing wrong at all. We're just about to go dragon hunting, what could be wrong with that?"
Obara brushed past Sarella to lead the way into the Dragon's Eye. It was a much cleaner establishment than the Dornishman's Head in Oldtown, with no puke on the floor or lingering smell of shit in the air. There were no puddles of what might have been liquor or might not, and the tables looked clean enough that you could touch them without feeling sticky for days afterwards.
Nym was already there, wearing a one-shoulder blue blouse and riding britches. While Obara looked like a sellsword in her boots and leathers, with her spear and shield and whip, Lady Nym looked like a casually dressed noblewoman, armed with knife and scimitar for her protection. Obara knew that she would have plenty of other knives secreted about her person, as strange as it was to imagine anything secret in that tight-fitting blouse, and wondered if she had had cause to use them yet.
Nymeria spotted them and rose to her feet, brushing her long braid over her shoulder. "Sisters! How delightful to see you."
Obara forced herself to smile as she crossed the crowded inn. No one turned her way, or at least she did not notice them if they did. While her attire and arms had made her an oddity in the Reach, here they were more accepted and, being accepted, less remarkable. That was all for the good. The last thing they needed was the Lannisters hearing about the Sand Snakes sailing east.
They would not harm cousin Quent while we hold the little lion princess...would they? They say the queen is half as mad as the Mad King, and her pet demon the Imp stands at her side, cackling as he orders men to their deaths. And there is nought but stone in the heart of Tywin Lannister. They are a family of monsters. When we slay them the whole realm will rejoice.
Nymeria walked from her table to meet them as her sisters drew near. The daughter of a Volantene Old Blood, Nymeria had all the beauty that Obara did not. For that, Obara had hated her when they were young. She no longer hated Nym, certainly not for the crime of being beautiful...but she did not entirely trust her either. She respected her skill with blade and knife, she appreciated Nym's intellect...but Obara Sand, who was not afraid of any man, feared Nymeria Sand a little.
There was also the fact that, as the second oldest, more charming and more comely than Obara, Nymeria had a good chance of being regarded as the leader of the Sand Snakes, if any one save their father had that honour. Obara, who by rights felt that such a title ought to go to her, did not particularly like that.
"Obara," Nym said coolly.
"Nym," Obara replied in a matching tone. "Are you in good health?"
"Of course I am," Nymeria said. "Tyene hasn't been around to slip me anything."
Sarella let ought a bark of laughter.
Nym turned to their middle sister with a smile. "And Sarella. I see Obara was able to prise you out of your burrow in Oldtown. Did she use her spear to persuade you, or her whip?"
"Neither," Sarella said, flashing her teeth. "She used my own curiosity against me."
"Really?" Nymeria said. "Obara, you astonish me. I didn't know you had wits as well as strength."
Obara's smile was more of a grimace. "Yes, it's amazing, isn't it?" she looked around. "Are we the only ones here? I can't believe we beat Father here from the Water Gardens."
"Perhaps they're going slowly for Ellaria's sake," Nymeria said. "Shall we sit down?"
"If you like," Obara said, sitting down opposite Nymeria at the table. "I don't know why he's bringing her."
"Yes, that surprises me as well," Nymeria said. "Seven know there are no shortage of whores across the Narrow Sea, and she is no warrior for certain. And yet, Father cannot seem to prise himself away from her. Perhaps he's getting soft in his old age."
Obara's eyes narrowed. "You don't mean that."
Nymeria chuckled. "He will not live forever, dear sister, best get used to it."
"He will live many years yet, gods willing," Obara said softly. "And when he dies, I will mourn for him."
"As will I," Nymeria replied in a hurt tone. "What did you think I was suggesting?"
"I have no idea," Obara said. "I wouldn't pretend to understand what goes on in your mind."
Nymeria didn't react to the barb. "Yet you wouldn't deny that Ellaria has softened him."
"Jealousy speaks with an alluring voice, but it is a liar nonetheless," Sarella murmured.
Obara and Nym looked at her.
"Are you saying we're jealous?" Obara said.
Sarella smiled sadly. "Perhaps not of Ellaria, but we jealous because of her. Father has stayed with her, raised four daughters with her. Elia, Obella, Dorea and Loreza, they know their mother, they have a family."
"We have a family," Obara said. "We are a family."
"We fight like one," Nymeria said.
Sarella smirked. "We aren't a family, we're Sand Snakes. And we all wonder what it is that Ellaria has to make him stay with her, that our own mothers lacked."
"In my case it's what she doesn't have," Obara said. "A scale of fees."
Nymeria stared at her for a moment, face still, before a smile crinkled her immaculate features. "That was actually quite funny...for you."
"You're welcome," Obara grunted. "But as to Sarella's point: I don't think that. My mother wasn't worth...shit. My mother was not worth shit. Let worthless men push her around all her life. The day I left that place behind was the best day of my life."
"You don't mean that," Sarella said softly.
"Yes, I do," Obara said firmly. "I don't regret a thing."
"That wasn't what I said," Sarella replied.
Obara hesitated. "Well, it's true anyway."
"Lady Nym!"
Nymeria had time to jump to her feet before Elia collided with her with the speed of the ballista bolt that had struck Meraxes dead. Their little sister wrapped her arms about Nym's shapely waist and grabbed hold as if she was afraid that Nym would disappear if she wasn't looking.
Nymeria laughed as she mussed up Elia's hair. "Elia! Ah, you've gotten strong since I saw you last."
"Obella said to wish you well," Elia said, looking up at her.
"Oh, well now I know that I'll come home safe," Nymeria said. "Now let go of me, so I can take a breath."
Elia let go, beaming with joy while her serpent eyes alit with delight. She turned, and bowed to Obara. "Obara."
"Elia," Obara said. "How's your lance?"
Elia's smile widened. "I hit the quintain every time now. Father says I'll soon be good enough to compete in tourneys. I think I'm good enough now, but Father says I have to wait."
"He probably doesn't want you to end up like Willas Tyrell," Obara said. "Where is Father, anyway?"
"I am here," Oberyn announced, stepping through the door and into the inn. "Elia! If you are going to be a squire, you must learn to take care of the horses, not leave them to your father and mother." The words were a reproof, but there was little malice in his voice. Oberyn Martell doted on his younger daughters as he never had upon the elder.
"Sorry, father," Elia said, a slight flush rising to her cheeks.
"Obara," Oberyn said. "When Elia is your squire, do not go easy on her."
Unlike you, you mean? Obara thought. Instead she said, "As you say, father, but I am sure she'd rather squire for Nymeria."
"Perhaps she would," Oberyn said. "But she can learn more from you."
Elia kept her face carefully free of expression.
Oberyn sauntered over to where the four sisters waited. Ellaria followed him in, then Daemon Sand and then Tyene brought up the rear, artfully arranging her blonde curls so that they framed her face with a deceptively innocent affect.
"Hello, girls," she said sweetly. "Long time no see."
They all sat down. Oberyn took the centre of the table, with Ellaria upon his right and Elia upon his left. Daemon Sand sat opposite him. The four older Sand Snakes sat together, Obara opposite Nym and Tyene opposite Sarella.
"Obara," Daemon said warily. "Nymeria."
"Daemon," Obara replied in kind, eyeing him carefully while she fingered her whip with one hand.
Oberyn looked his companions and, in most cases, his blood relations up and down.
"Sarella," he said. "I am glad to see that you decided to join us. We will have need of your tongue, your mind and your bow before we return to Dorne, I think."
"How can I refuse the chance to see dragons in the scales," Sarella said. "By the time I'm done my treatise on them will be required reading at the citadel."
Obara put her hands on the table and began to rise. "I'll get us something to drink."
"Oh, no, let me," Tyene said brightly, leaping to her feet and practically skipping towards the bar.
Obara sat down, wondering what the point of Tyene's antics were when it was just them present. They all knew what she really was.
"Nymeria," Oberyn said. "Have you found us a ship."
"You have no idea how hard it was to find a boat that would take six women on board," Nymeria said. "Apparently we're bad luck." She rolled her eyes. "But I did find something in the end. The Emerald Runner, a Summer Island cog bound for Lys. Once we get there we can find out where Danaerys is; I doubt that three dragons can disappear."
"They'll probably still be babies at the moment, depending on when they were hatched and how long it took the news to reach us here," Sarella said. "So, actually, they could be quite well hidden still, if someone cared to hide them."
"Yes, thank you, Sarella," Nymeria said. "Where would we be without you?"
"Still thirsty, since she didn't offer to get anyone anything," Tyene said as she returned with two armfuls of wine tankards. "Here you are everyone, drink up."
Oberyn, Ellaria, Daemon and Elia all drank immediately, doubtless eager to slake their thirst after travel on the dusty road. Obara, Nymeria and Sarella did not drink. Instead they eyed their wine, and then eyed Tyene, who had brought it.
Tyene looked at them innocently, as if she couldn't understand why they might be a little suspicious. She giggled like an empty-headed Reachermaid. "Oh, girls." She took a good long drink of her wine. "What do you think of me?"
"I still haven't forgotten the time you gave me the runs," Obara muttered. But she drank anyway, now that Tyene had done so. Sarella and Nymeria did the same.
Tyene giggled again.
"We have a ship, and we are all here, excellent," Oberyn said. "When does the Emerald Runner leave?"
"As you like, father," Nymeria replied. "I paid the captain to hold the ship for us until we were ready, and then depart when we were here. We can sail with the tide if you wish it."
Oberyn nodded. "I do wish it. Everyone, gather your things, it looks as though we will be spending the night aboard ship. But first, let me say a few words.
"All of you understand the importance of this mission, for Dorne and for our house. Yes, our House. You are not my trueborn children. You are bastard daughters, and so by the laws of the Seven Kingdoms you must bear the name of Sand. But you are my blood, my daughters, and as far as I am concerned you are all Martells of Sunspear, Martells of Dorne."
"Unbowed, unbent, unbroken," Obara muttered.
"Even so," Oberyn said. "For fourteen years have we hungered for our vengeance against House Lannister, vengeance for Elia and her children, and justice for the crimes that were committed against them. Now, at last, the hour of our vengeance is at hand.
"Understand this: I will not return home empty handed from this voyage. I will come home with a Targaryen queen at my side and her dragons soaring over my head...or I will never return at all. For Elia, for her children, for justice, for revenge, for my sister I will conquer or I will die in the east and my bones will water the soil of the disputed lands.
"If any of you feel you cannot share my passion, cannot match your valour to my own, cannot guarantee upon your honour that you will follow me every step of the way in this, then leave now, for there will be no chance to turn away once we set sail."
"Nor would we, now or ever," Obara said. "Spear and sword and bow and...other things, we are yours, father. Direct us as you will, we are your weapons, wield us against your enemies."
"What is the point of being sand snakes if we cannot, how can I say, deploy our venom," Tyene said, smiling. "There are so few to bite here in Dorne, my venom is all stored up and growing by the day."
"Maybe you need milking," Daemon suggested.
Tyene smirked. "Mayhaps I do, but it would be a brave man who tried it, for he would just as like get bitten and die of the poison that he hoped to draw out."
"Nice of the real you to join us, Tyene," Obara said, grinning. "But you are right: how could we sit idly by in inaction while you went off into the east to win great glory for yourself."
"As you are our father, so we are your daughters," Nymeria said. "And we stand with you, while you have need of us."
"It would have been rather pointless of me to have abandoned my studies in Oldtown only to now abandon the reason I abandoned my studies," Sarella said.
"I'm not going back to the Water Gardens," Elia declared. "Obella would laugh at me, and I'll miss out on the adventure."
"A toast then," Obara said, raising her tankard. "To dragons, to the Queen Across the Water, to kin, to glory, and to snakes everywhere!"
"Aye!" Daemon said loudly.
"When this is done, we shall toast at Prince Quentyn's wedding," Obara continued. "And laugh at the misfortune of a beautiful bride to end up in the clutches of such a hideous groom."
Tyene snorted.
"To triumph," Sarella proposed. "And to immortality for all our names."
"Aye!"
