Chapter 25: Nymor Nymeros
Nymor could feel his bones slowly disintegrating as the disease took its hold. He feared for what would become of Dorne when he was gone, but he was also afraid of what would come now. His daughter was sat before him, her eyes blazing with fire and anger. He knew she'd have something to say now. She always did.
"Deria." He began.
"No, don't Deria me." His daughter said. "You have betrayed Dorne. You have betrayed grandmother and everything she stood for. Why? Why did you do it?"
Nymor could her his mother's accusatory words in his daughter's voice and he simply said. "Because I valued the lives of my people more than I did some abstract concept."
Deria snorted. "Did you truly think that the Targaryens would've done anything to Dorne? I know the plans that grandmother had."
"Thousands would've burned as a result of those plans. We would have had the nobles surviving but the common man would have died of famine and disease. I would not let that happen." Nymor said.
"So, instead you simply decided that we would all be better off bending the knee to bastards born of incest?" Deira shot back. "The High Septon might not consider it an issue, but I know everyone in Dorne does, and that they want to do something. For Seven's Sake, Father, they've changed everything about Westeros. Their new legal code would see me disinherited in favour of Maron. And we both know he is not capable enough to rule Dorne."
Nymor raised an eyebrow. "So, that is what this is about. You do not actually care for Dorne. Simply your chance to rule it."
His daughter looked at him as if he were a simpleton. "Of course that is what I want. I was born to rule. Not born to take orders from some fucking idiot."
"That idiot is your brother." Nymor said. "And I am beginning to think he has more sense than you."
Deria gasped. "You wouldn't dare."
"I don't have to do anything. The laws are in place, I signed off my consent to them a year and a half ago when the King was doing his progress around the realm. I know what needs to be done. Either you accept the change, or you suffer the consequences." Nymor said simply.
His daughter looked stunned. "You are nothing more than a lackey." With that she turned away and walked out of his solar.
Nymor sat where he was for a moment before, the maester walked in. "Tell me something, Maester, do you think I am wrong to follow my gut?"
"No, my lord. I think you are one of the few smart people in Dorne for doing so. Aegon Targaryen has shown that he will not allow anyone to stand against him. And with his other wife having now given birth to another son, we all know he will only work harder to protect their inheritance." The maester responded.
"So, then why can nobody else see this? Surely they are not so blinded by hatred and a desire for the past that they would let something like this get in their way of seeing the truth?" Nymor mused.
"I think we both know that that is not the case, my lord. The women and men who are part of Lady Deria's inner circle desire power for themselves, and they know they cannot get that with you or Maron alive." The maester said.
"And that is what concerns me the most." Nymor said then. "That Deria will do as I did, but not for the same reasons. She will have me killed and then she will try and target Maron, and Maron is never one to back down from a fight. There will be war, and Dorne will be weakened because of it."
"I do not think there is anything you can do to stop it, my lord. Do what you can now and let the rest fall into the hands of your children." The maester said.
Nymor laughed. "We both know I have never been the sort of person who has found that sort of thing easy to achieve."
"Indeed not, though now might be the time to find such patience." The maester said.
Nymor sighed. "Perhaps you are right. Very well, you may go and rest for the time being, summon Maron."
"Yes, my lord." the maester said.
The man left, and a few moments later, Maron entered. Maron had blonde hair, like his mother had, and dark brown eyes. He was tall and muscular, he was as of yet unwed, but that would need to change to secure his position. "Father, you asked to see me?" His son said, coming to sit next to him.
"You have met with the ladies that I had asked you to?" Nymor asked.
"Yes, father." Maron said, with the same air that Nymor himself had once displayed when going through the same process.
"Then you must know that the time for you to reach a decision is fast approaching." Nymor said.
"I do." Maron said.
"And who have you decided on?" Nymor asked.
"Lady Elaena Dayne, Father. She is young and from a fertile family and the Daynes are in good with the King." Maron said.
"Good. And do you get along with her? It might not seem important now, but it will in the future." Nymor said.
"I do." Maron said.
"Good. You know that your sister is plotting do you not?" Nymor said.
"I do." Maron said.
"Then you know you must get married as soon as possible and have as many children as you can." Nymor said.
"Could I not simply appeal to the King and get this matter sorted that way?" Maron asked.
"The King will not interfere, not when he is busy dealing with the issues with Braavos. This is a matter we must sort out ourselves." Nymor said.
His son sighed. "Very well, with your blessing I shall propose to her tonight."
"Do so." Nymor said. His son got up, bowed and left, leaving Nymor to his own thoughts and the crippling pain therein.