Sarella

"This is exciting! I've never been on a ship before!" Tyene said, her voice coming high and girlish as she stood on the starboard side of the Emerald Runner, looking out across the narrow sea. She stood on tiptoes, her hands on the ship's side, her blonde hair blowing in the sea breeze. She giggled, the very picture of excited girlishness.

And all as false as a whore's love, Sarella said, looking up from oiling her bow to watch Tyene's display. To what purpose? Can she never simply be herself.

She was aware that the complaint might seem hypocritical coming from someone who had, until recently been pretending to be a boy named Alleras, but she had had a purpose behind her deception: to reveal the conspiracy at the heart of the Citadel, to uncover the truth, to find out the secrets hidden beneath the secrets. Tyene, it seemed to her, deceived people regularly for the fun of it.

Or perhaps it was just the fact that she felt a kinship with the people being deceived that made the deception rankle with her. They were good people, these Summer Islanders. They reminded her of her mother and her crew, and the ship she had sailed on for a few years before being sent to live with her father. There was the same peace about this vessel, the same sense of contentment. The crew of the Emerald Runner were far more a family than the Sand Snakes had ever been, or ever would be most likely. It felt wrong to lie to them as Tyene was doing, to put on masks and false fronts. It felt...like a violation of their goodness.

Sarella wondered, sometimes, if it had been a mistake leaving her mother behind. Her father was a good man, by his lights, but he treated his older daughters as much like his weapons as his children, and Sarella was not Obara, so desperate for acknowledgement and affection that she would willingly play the good little soldier for a pat on the head from her almighty father. Going to Oldtown had put her beyond his reach, but then he had reached out and pulled her back in, baiting the trap with an offer too tempting to refuse.

Sarella leaned back against a stack of crates, closing her eyes as the sun beat down upon her face. She was being a little unfair to her father, here. She had no doubt that he would be offended by the suggestion that he was using his daughters to further his vendetta against the Lannisters, even as he did exactly that, putting their lives at risk for the sake of his vengeance. He would be offended, but at the same time he would still see nothing wrong with what he was doing, either. And why should he? That was the Westerosi way, and even Dorne was not exempt. Fathers used their children, spending them in war and marriage to further the cause of their house. That was how the game was played from the Wall to the Narrow Sea, and even beyond, so why should Oberyn Martell be any different.

But that did not mean Sarella had to like it.

She had not been born solely to this life, to be a minor cyvasse piece for House Martell, a rabble or a spearman tile to be thrown in the path of a dragon for minor advantage. She was not Nym, as born to the game on her mother's side as on her fathers, nor Obara, who was being used by men far less cruelly than would have been the case otherwise. There was another way open to her.

She had been thinking about finding her mother again, when her mission in the Citadel was over. Perhaps she would start her search when this quest was complete. She would take passage on another Summer Island ship, plough the seas, keep a weather eye open. It might mean abandoning her scholarly ambitions, but she would be free.

Freedom or knowledge? Books and chains or sea air and a world unbound? A hard choosing, to be sure.

Still, a choosing she had time to make. Neither sea nor Citadel was going anywhere.

A sound of heavy tread approaching caused Sarella to open her eyes to see Obara looking down at her with a bemused expression.

"You're not going to be this lazy the entire trip are you?" Obara demanded.

"No," Sarella replied coolly. "And may I ask what you have been doing that enables you to look down on me."

"I can look down on you because I'm older, taller and standing up," Obara said. "As to what I've been doing, I've been training Elia."

"Why?" Sarella asked.

Obara frowned. "What do you mean, why?"

"Why?" Sarella repeated. "To what purpose? She could couch the best lance since Aemon the Dragonknight and she would still be shunned in every tourney outside of Dorne. She is a woman and a bastard both, she will never escape that."

"So she should dress up as a man like you and go hide in a library?" Obara asked. "Actually, dressing up as a man might not be a bad idea."

"Elia won't like it."

"There's a lot of things that I don't like, but I have to live with them all the same," Obara retorted.

"Oh, girls, let's not fight," Tyene said, skipping across the deck to join them. "It's just too awful when family falls out, don't you agree? It's such a lovely day, the sun is so bright and the breeze is so cool, let's all forget our troubles and be friends."

Obara set her spear down against the stack of crates. "Why do you do that?"

Tyene looked serenely innocent. "Do what?"

"That...that," Obara said. She shuddered theatricality. "It makes my skin crawl and there's no need for it. Who are you trying to fool? We all know you're a dangerous bitch!"

"Well they don't know that do they, unless you keep shouting it about," Tyene hissed. "As far as they know, I'm the good girl."

"Why should you want them to hold such an erroneous opinion of you?" Sarella asked.

Tyene's smile was half a scowl, and altogether vicious. "Maybe I'm just doing it to seduce some strapping Summer Islander with my girlish wiles. You might consider that too, both of you. At the Citadel I don't suppose you've had much between your nethers that wasn't your own hand, and as for you Obara, these Summer Islanders give it out so freely that even you might be in with a chance."

"I have all the chances that I want in Dorne, thank you," Obara said stiffly.

Tyene sighed. "Suit yourselves. Look, do you really want to know why I keep up the act? Sarella, why do you practice with your bow each day, and always miss your last shot?"

"To keep improving," Sarella said. "To ensure I never get complacent with my skills."

"And this is my skill," Tyene said. "It isn't just the poison, I have to get close enough to use it. And I'd never get close if I came on like you or Nym or even father. I don't have a spear or a knife or a bow. I have this face, and this voice and this hair. I have to get the most out of them."

Obara blinked. "I thought it was because you enjoyed messing with people."

Tyene shrugged. "There's that, too. Which reminds me, don't drink the Arbor Gold if you want a comfortable trip back to Lys."

Obara stared at her.

Tyene giggled. "That was a joke! Honestly, you'd think I went around poisoning people just because I didn't like their faces."

"I thought you did," Sarella murmured.

"Oh, now you've upset me," Tyene said with a mummer's pout. "Honestly, is there no sisterly bond between us at all, no trust?"

"I trust you, Tyene," Obara said. "As far as I can pick you up and throw you."

Tyene shook her head. "You'll be glad of my help when we get to Meereen?"

"Why, because we'll need to poison the last Targaryen?"

"It would be better than stabbing her with a spear," Tyene pointed out.

"I thought the aim was to win her for our cause," Sarella muttered dryly.

"The aim is to get dragons," Tyene said. "And you should no better than us how...unpredictable Targaryens can be. We shouldn't take anything for granted."

"If our mission changes, Father will let us know," Obara said stoutly.

Tyene nodded. "I'm sure you're right." Her eyes told a different story.

Obara was not deceived. "What are you suggesting?"

"That father is a good man," Tyene said. "The best I know. We, as you all well know enough, are not good men. Or even good girls for that matter."

"Speak for yourself," Sarella said softly. "I have led a very peaceful life."

"Yes, because the Citadel wouldn't be in the least bit interested to know that their gifted Dornish novice was actually a cross-dresser," Obara said.

"No, no, Obara, I will concede that," Tyene admitted, holding up one hand. "Sarella is a good girl. An annoying, self-righteous, overly curious good girl, but good nonetheless. She is not like you, or me or Lady Nym. My point is that father would go home empty handed rather than harm a silver hair on the young queen's head. He is...squeamish, where children are concerned, since Elia's sweet babes were slain." Her eyes, the viper eyes that each and every sand snake had inherited from their father, flashed dangerously. "I trust that we would have no such scruples."

"Speak for yourself in that regard," Sarella replied.

"I do not advise it save as a last resort," Tyene said. "But we must have the dragons or all is for nought."

"How would we control them without their mother?" Obara demanded.

"I'm sure our little bookworm hear knows of some way," Tyene said casually. "But their mother's control will be a fine thing if she will not give them to us. Better to remove her and take our chances taming them ourselves."

Obara scowled. "You're not without sense but...no. Not unless father commands it."

"Father may not have the stomach to do what must be done," Tyene whispered. "He trusts us to act in our own right, does he not? Has he not always said so?"

"In many things, yes, but not in this," Obara said stubbornly.

"If he cannot-"

"The only thing that must be done is Father's will," Obara insisted. "Say no more of this, I warn you."

Tyene stared up at her older sister for a moment, a smirk creeping across her face. "It isn't the thought of murder that is making you squeamish, is it? You don't want to disobey father?"

"Why would anyone?" Obara asked.

"Because we can think for ourselves," Sarella said.

Obara snorted. "Think as you please, but do as you're told. This is no time for intrigues or power plays, for personal plans or petty vendettas. We must be one spear, guided by a single hand; Father's hand. We must be good soldiers."

"If Father wanted soldiers he could have taken House Martell guards," Tyene replied. "But he brought us. Because we are-"

"Loyal."

"Quick-witted," Tyene countered. "Able to take the initiative, if the situation demands."

"I hope it will not," Sarella said. "Not in the way you wish."

"You are squeamish, aren't you?" Tyene asked, looking down at her. "You never hesitated to disobey father."

"You will not do so here," Obara said. "Not now."

Tyene laughed. "Or you'll whip us into line, I suppose."

Obara scowled, but before she could say just what she would do the shout of one of the Summer Islands crew had split the sea air.

"Ship ahoy! Ship to port! Pirates!"

A/N: Tyene opens the chapter with a quote from King Kong, because why not?