AN: Here's the next chapter. This time straight out of King's Landing!

Nymeria

Nymeria hated King's Landing. It stank, it was ugly and it was loud. There was never a silent hour here, never a moment of peace. Not that Nymeria wanted peace. She wanted revenge. Revenge for her father, revenge for her aunt, revenge for her cousins. Still, a silent moment would have been nice.

Sighing, Nymeria stood up. She had a council meeting to attend today, and she did not want to arrive late. King's Landing had proven the pit of snakes her uncle had promised and like Doran had predicted, the mighty Lord Tyrell and the Queen Regent weren't happy to have her here. They saw it as an insult, Nymeria knew, and that alone made her smile. Any insult to Cersei Lannister was a reason for her to smile.

Carefully, she dressed. She chose a soft red dress that offered a nice view on her curves. The High Septon would think it indecent, but Nymeria didn't care for the High Septon. Tyene would deal with that one. All the other lords would act offended, but secretly ogle her when they thought nobody would notice and the lovely Queen Regent would try very hard to act as if she didn't notice what Nymeria was wearing. Cersei Lannister knew that she couldn't rival Nymeria's body and beauty, and it was eating her up inside. Nymeria smiled at that thought.

After she made sure none of the ten daggers she had hidden on her body were in sight she left her room. On her way, she met Petyr Baelish, the master of coin. He was the Lord Protector of the Vale now too, Nymeria knew, following the death of his wife. She had murdered by a singer, and her son, little Robert Arryn was far to young to rule. So Petyr Baelish had stepped up. Nymeria did not trust the man. He thought himself a player of the game of thrones, and he most definitively was, and like all real players he did not support the Lannisters without a reason. Sure, he had to thank them for all he was now, for he had been born a lowly lord's son in the Riverlands, but Nymeria knew that he would turn his cloak the moment he saw a chance to gain more. He, at least, didn't underestimate her like some of the other lords here did. Thinking about it, it made sense. Nymeria had heared whispers about his bastard daughter, Alayne Stone. The girl was betrothed to Harrold Hardying, the heir of the Vale, and was said to be a beauty. Also, people said she more or less ran the Eyrie when they had been up there still. Littlefinger, Nymeria guessed, knew how clever bastard girls could be.

"My lady Nymeria." He greeted her.

"My lord Baelish." She nodded her head.

"Young princess Myrcella asked for you, I heared. She seems to like you a great deal." Baelish said.

"She is a sweet girl." Nymeria answered. Myrcella was indeed sweet, sweet and innocent and naïve. Nymeria pitied the girl. She wasn't a player, she just wanted things to be nice and good. Nymeria had tried to hate her, because the princess was a Lannister, because she was of the family that caused her family so much pain, but that had proved impossible. Now she pitied her. Myrcella was pawn in this game, and she would never be anything else. She would always be a bargaining chip, always a price to be won. She would always be seen as her mothers daughter, her brothers sister, her (step) fathers child. Nobody would ever see just Myrcella. Yes, Nymeria pitied the girl, and whenever she saw her, she thanked the gods for being a bastard, for not having any expectations put on her when she was a child except for her own.

They arrived in the council room to see the little king sitting there, the crown heavy on his head. He was nine now, a child by all accounts, yet he tried very hard to look kingly. His mother was right beside him, an expression of slight disdain on her face. She wore red as well, the crimson of house Lannister, a roaring lion stitched on the dress. She tried to look regal, had done so ever since the walk of penance, but never quite worked out. She had lost most of the respect the smallfolk and the lords were holding for her that day, but nobody ever told her that. The queen was angered very quickly and would snap at even the slightest thing, evil meant or not.

Next to her, fat Lord Tyrell sat. Mace Tyrell was Hand of the King, but only because he had more or less openly threatened to relinquish the support his house gave the little Lannister king if he did not get this position. His daughter was in Highgarden, proven innocent of the crimes she had been accused of but "recovering" from the shock and her time in the cells. Nymeria was sure that Tyrell would turn his cloak almost as easily as Littlefinger if somebody came that offered him more than the Lannisters.

"Jon Connington has taken Dragonstone." Varys said. Nymeria watched the eunuch carefully. She was certain that the Spider had his own agency. A man like Varys, even if he wasn't a true man, did not help people like the Lannisters for no reason. There was more to him, and she had made it her goal to figure him out. Sadly, though, she could not seduce him as she had seduced her dear Ser Arys.

"Who does this man think he is?" Mace Tyrell thundered. Nymeria remembered that his son Loras had tried to take the castle as well, but failed and very nearly lost his life. He was in Highgarden now, and if the rumors were true, nearer to death than to life.

"An exile knight." Varys supplied. Nymeria smiled.

"He certainly is a problem." Littlefinger said.

"If it was just taken from the outside, wouldn't it be easier for us to take it now?" Nymeria asked. The Queen shot her an unhappy look.

"You don't know the first bit about war, bastard. Dragonstone will never be easy to take. If you don't know what the talk is about, keep your mouth shut." She snarled. Nymeria smiled. Cersei Lannister was digging her own grave, and watching it was quite amusing, for she still thought to be winning this game.

Behind her, the door opened. The High Septon had arrived, but Nymeria only had eyes for the apprentice beside him. Tyene. Finally she got to see at least one of her beloved sisters again.

"Pardon me for arriving late, I had business to attend." The High Septon said. "May I introduce you to Leah, one of the apprentices. She has been a great help for me in the past months." Tyene smiled sweetly, looking shy, but Nymeria wasn't fooled. Tyene had never been shy, but she was very good at acting as if she was.

"There has been a letter of your … uncle." Cersei said, looking at Nymeria. She tensed ever so slightly, not sure what that meant. Doran had not contacted her during her stay in the capital. Why would he write to the queen.

"He writes that the man who attacked Myrcella has finally been found. And obviously you owe your … stepmother? Your fathers paramour won some bet about your little sister? I don't know why your uncle writes this in an official letter, but obviously you owe her three dragons." Cersei Lannister shook her head and went on discussing how to beat back Jon Connington while Nymeria took a deep breath. There hadn't been a bet with Ellaria. It was all about giving this word an innocent sense, something Cersei wouldn't question. Dragons. She met Tyene's eyes. Their time was coming.