Tyene

On a deck strewn about with dead pirates, Daemon Sand was dying.

Father's squire lay in the midst of three dead buccaneers, his belly opened like an ox slaughtered for the feast. His blood stained the wood beneath and all around him, and more blood spilled from his mouth as he coughed and spluttered. His sword lay just out of reach, and his fingers trembled as he tried to grip it.

Tyene watched as the blood pooled around him, creeping closer to her white dress. He had died getting between her and some giant Summer Island pirate with an axe, and as a result the axe meant for her had slit his guts open instead.

She hadn't realised that he cared so much. Certainly they had fucked once or twice, but to get himself killed for her…that was something else altogether.

It was almost enough to make her feel guilty.

She looked around the ship, at all the dead pirates, the ones who had not already been thrown overboard by the crew of the Emerald Runner anyway. So many dead, the entire crew or near enough, and not a single one of them by her hand. Obara had slain many, Nym too, Sarella had made a veritable feast of corpses, but none would reach the seven hells and say that Tyene Sand had sent them there. None had fallen to her poisons, to her cunning tricks, to her guile and malice. More direct and obviously fatal methods had won the day on this occasion.

She was not entirely sure what she was feeling, because she never felt its like before. No, that was a lie. She could put a name to this feeling, she just didn't want to: fear. When those damned pirates had swarmed over the rails and onto the Emerald Runner she had been absolutely brick-shitting terrified. So many swords, so many spears, so many axes, and what did she have to set against them? Each Sand Snake had their weapons, it was true, but of the snakes her weapons were the only ones that were no fucking good at all as, well, weapons. What was she supposed to do, offer them some wine in the middle of the battle?

The fact that his had never occurred to Tyene before was making her feel rather stupid. Obara had her spear, Nym had her knives and sword, Sarella her bow, Elia the lance and Obella the mace. And Tyene had poison, and for years she had used that fact to look down upon all her blunt and brutish sisters, for she alone could kill a man without it being blatantly obvious what she had done. She alone could kill without anyone knowing it.

Now, for the first time, she had come face to face with the downside of that: she couldn't just kill whenever she wanted to. Unlike them, her deaths too cunning and craft and, most of all, preparation. And the world had just shown her that she would not always be given the time to prepare.

And Daemon Sand had paid the price for that.

Father knelt by the side of his squire, cupping the dying young man's cheek with one hand. "Rest now, Daemon, you have won a great victory."

Daemon tried to smile, but ended up coughing more blood. "Tha…thank you…my…prince."

Oberyn nodded, and pressed Daemon's sword into his trembling hand. "Be without fear in the face of your enemies," he said.

"Be brave and upright that the Seven may love thee,

Speak the truth, always, even if it leads to your death,

Safeguard the helpless and do no wrong; that is your oath."

Daemon did smile now, as broadly as if he had been told that he would not die. "Yes. I…I swear it."

"Good," Oberyn said, before he smacked him across the face. "And that is so you will remember it. Now rise a knight, Ser Daemon Sand."

"A kn…thank you, my prince. Thank y..." Daemon's words trailed off. His grip upon his sword loosened. His eyes rolled upwards, staring vacantly at the sky above him. There was no more light left in them.

"A great victory," Nym murmured for where she leaned against the ship's railing, her arms folded. "A victory to which he contributed less than some of us."

"A victory is only great if you survive it," Sarella murmured.

"Enough!" Oberyn snapped. "What would have you me say to a dying man?"

"Father you mistake us, we know you did the right thing," Nym said smoothly, she was almost as good a liar as Tyene herself. "Good of you to knight him at the end. I'm sure that will please his mother."

"Less than seeing her son again, perhaps," Sarella said softly. "That could have been any of us."

"Speak for yourself," Nymeria replied.

If it had not been him then it would have been me for certain, Tyene thought, though she would never admitted it in front of the others. Her sweet sisters were called snakes, but in truth they had more in common with a pack of lions than the Lannisters ever did: the weak members of the pride would be devoured, so it was necessary to always keep up the appearance of strength.

Obara grunted as she hauled the corpse of a fallen pirate overboard, having first stripped him of all his valuables. "Thanks for all your help, girls, I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome," Nym said idly. "You looked like you were having such fun that I didn't want to get in your way."

Obara glared at her, and for a moment Tyene thought that she would say something else, but in the end the oldest of them simply rolled her eyes and went back to work robbing the dead and then disposing of the bodies.

"Obara," Oberyn said. "I will take Elia from you, if I may."

"Of course, father," Obara said, not looking up. "You need a squire more than I do. I'm sure El will be thrilled."

"If she isn't upset about Daemon," Sarella said.

"Why would she be upset about that, it isn't as if she knew him?" Nym asked.

"Perhaps not, but you shouldn't celebrate death."

"People celebrate death all the time," Nym replied. "What kind of crap are they teaching you at the Citadel?"

"Decency?"

"I'm surprised you're not softer than you are in that case," Nymeria said.

"Leave off the pair of you, you're more annoying than any pirates ever could be," Obara snapped. She left her work for a few moments to wander across the deck, the blood-soaked wooden planks creaking beneath her feet. "Ty. How are you?"

"I'm fine," Tyene said quickly. "None of them got near me."

"That's good to hear," Obara muttered. He scratched her flat chin with one hand. "And how…are you?"

"Didn't you already ask me that?"

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, because you're not stupid."

"Of course not, that's your job."

"I'm surrounded by fucking mummers' clowns," Obara muttered. "Look, don't think about it too much, alright? To be sure, poison isn't much good in a fight like this, but do you think a spear will be any good in persuading a queen to come with us? Or if we have to…you know…"

"Kill her?"

"Not so loud," Obara hissed. "But yes that…that thing that we talked about that we will not do unless father asks us to. Probably. But you know that you're the only one who could do that, right? All this…don't worry about it. So long as you aren't useless it doesn't really matter what you're useful for."

Tyene smiled. "Thank you, big sister, I feel so much better now."

"If you'd rather I was a complete bitch to you about it then I can do that too, you know."

"No, no," Tyene said, allowing a rare trace of sincerity to enter her voice. "No, I really do mean to thank you. It means a lot." She sniggered. "Even if you're absolutely shit at this kind of thing."

Obara gave her side-eye. "Just pull it together, okay? We've got a long way to go before we reach the dragon queen."

A/N: a quick chapter to finish off the pirate fight, and next chapter will see a break from the Sand Snakes to observe the fall of Meereen to Daenaerys and her armies. Then I don't know whether to skip Lys and go straight to Volantis or not. Opinions in the comments, please.