Chapter Two

Nymeria II

It had taken a month for their travelling party to reach King's Landing, much to the annoyance of the Lannister knights that had accompanied the Princess Myrcella on her return home. They made good time considering they had to travel with a wheelhouse for the golden princess and Prince Trystane but then she had been determined. Snow had started to fall as soon as they travelled through the Stormlands.

She despised the cold. She was born for the sun and warm weather.

She was grateful for the golden fur-lined coat that her Uncle had gifted her on their departure. She had never had need for one before. She did not typically feel the cold – her dragon blood ran warm and even the cold Dornish nights did not faze her. This snow, however, brought a chill to her bone.

Tyene departed before they reached the River Gate. If she was to spy on this High Septon, it would not do well to be seen with entourage. They only hoped that Myrcella had enough sense not to mention the third-born Sand Snakes presence in the Capital.

The rest of the party moved past the fishmongers, under the River Gate and through the streets until they reached the Red Keep. The castle sat red and ominous in the skyline, sitting on top of Aegon's Hill. Her stomach dropped at the sight and her mouth dried. She had not been in the capital – and the castle - since she was three years old. This is where I was born, she thought. This is where my mother and brother died.

For the past month, she had not allowed herself to think about what entering the Red Keep would mean.

This had been her home. She should have grown up here. She should have been a Princess – a King's daughter and later, a King's sister.

Instead she came here as a bastard.

But one day she was determined for it to be hers once more.

For her mother, father, uncle and brother, she would avenge.

In all her wildest dreams though, she had not imagined the arrival that they received. As they entered the walls that protected the Red Keep, it seemed that the castle was abandoned. No one stood and proclaimed their arrival. It was strange and Nymeria didn't do strange. Travelling between Sunspear to King's Landing, she had been on edge. She had waited for those planning to attack her cousin and had even directed them on another path much to the chagrin and protests of the Lannister knights but nothing out of the ordinary happened.

That should have been the first sign that something was amiss.

A lack of fanfare for the kingdom's only Princess was the second.

She had been allowing her emotions to blind her. She would need to keep them in check now that she was home.

A rather heavy set man came tottering over to the party with a mix of Martell, Lannister and Baratheon Banners flying among them. The man had a rather red face from the exertion of walking as quickly as he could. She half noticed that Trystane and Myrcella had made their way out of the wheelhouse. She begrudgingly dismounted from her own horse - being astride her sandy mare always made her feel stronger, safer and in control.

But the man in front of her wore the pin of the Hand of the King she noticed as he moved closer. It would be disrespectful if she didn't. A White Knight limped behind him.

She reminded herself that her Uncle needed her to play the game of thrones for Dorne. She reminded herself that she needed to play the game of thrones for her deceased family.

He bowed his head towards the Prince and Princess, ignoring Nymeria. "Your highnesses."

Both greeted the man warmly before he started to look around. "Where is his grace Prince Doran? Is he still in the wheelhouse?" he asked, his eyes trying to peer inside.

Nymeria immediately saw this as the third thing amiss.

She went and stood in front of her cousin and his betrothed. "My lord…"

"Lord Mace Tyrell," he replied, his chest puffing out proudly. "Lord of Highgarden, Hand of the King and father of Queen Margaery."

Nymeria smiled sweetly back at him. To win this man's trust she sensed that she needed to channel as much of Tyene as possible. He looked like a man that could be won over with sweet words and a pleasant disposition. Highgarden – and King's Landing – were different to Dorne. They did not respect their bastards. Dorne saw them as gifts of passion – worthy of position. The other kingdoms viewed them as the scum of the Earth. She would have to try her hardest not to offend the man.

"Did you not receive word my lord? A raven was sent to Ser Kevan Lannister. The Prince, my uncle, is unable to attend court and the High Council. He has sent me in his stead, to speak for Dorne."

The Lord of Highgarden looked flustered. "A raven? Ser Kevan?" he squeaked. "No… no… I knew none of that. And you are exactly?"

"Lady Nymeria Sand," she replied, taking his clammy hand into her own. "Though my friends call me Lady Nym. We are to be friends aren't we Lord Mace."

He face turned an even darker shade of red. "He sent a bastard?"

"A Sand Snake," her smile not wavering. She could see it unnerving him. "Lord Oberyn's second born. Our family values each other no matter which side of the sheets we were conceived."

Lord Mace seemed to be having an internal battle with himself. Her low birth would offend his delicate sensibilities but he would fear the wrath of Dorne if he turned her away. Despite the fact that all of her sisters preferred to spend their time in Dorne and had rarely travelled beyond its borders once their father had collected them – except Sarella of course. She is off in Oldtown with her books and her deceptions – the stories of the Red Viper of Dorne and his Sand Snakes were well known. Or at least so her father Oberyn had said.

He finally relented and nodded, though he pulled his hand from her grasp. Baby steps, she thought mildly to herself as the Hand of the King motioned for the White Knight to escort Princess Myrcella and Prince Trystane to their respective chambers. Nymeria was reluctant to have her cousin leave her sight this soon but she knew that she could not keep an eye on him at all hours. She needed to be a diligent member of the High Council – for another King's reign – and could hardly babysit Trystane at the same time.

The rest of the swords that traveled with them where quickly leaving and taking their horses to the stables, all happy to finally have time to rest after their relentless travel. Her Uncle had sent with her many swords, swords he was hoping to place in the City Guard. Guards that would be loyal to Dorne, Prince Trystane and Lady Nymeria. They needed spies among the common people and she was meaning to ask the Hand of it as soon as she could but the man seemed troubled so she held off.

Lord Mace was looking around nervously – as if a viper was about to strike at any moment.

And yet she doubted that she was the viper he was worried about.

Once the majority had moved away and were out of earshot, Lord Mace spoke again. "We are glad to have the services of Dorne though. Terrible tidings are coming from every corner of the realm. Even within this great keep."

He motioned for her to follow him, a squire already relieving her of her horse. Her cloak still firmly around her shoulders; it seemed to be colder in the castle than outside – she supposed it was the inhabitants within that added the extra chill.

He ushered her up through the maze of the castle and led her into a large room. None of what she saw looked familiar, though she supposed that it wouldn't. She was only three when she was forced to leave this place. A long table stood in the centre of the room, nine chairs sat around the table as well as a throne on one end.

The King's chair.

The chair that should be hers by right of birth.

"The small council chamber," motioned Lord Mace with a flourish of his hand. He then sat down in the chair that sat directly opposite the throne at the other end of the table before gesturing for Nymeria to take the seat next to him. She sat shrugged off her travelling cloak, placing it on the back of the chair. She noticed that Lord Mace was eyeing her body. He was not subtle at all as his eyes roamed her brown-tight clad legs, gold riding tunic and the decent cleavage it encased. She refrained from rolling her eyes.

She coughed, bringing the Hand's attention back to the matter at hand. "You spoke of ill tidings my lord?"

"Yes, yes," he replied, his cheeks burning red from embarrassment. He need not worry as she was used to both men and women staring at her. She wasn't about to run and tell his wife that he had appreciated the body of another female. "Where to start… where to start… well, the first ill tiding is that Ser Kevan Lannister, our Regent, was killed in Maester Pycelle's tower two nights earlier, Pycelle's body was found there as well. It was a horrid sight that no such lady… such as yourself... should have to bear witness too."

Lord Mace's faces seemed to turn as green as his robes at the mention. It explained at least why Lord Mace did not know of her arrival in her Uncle's place.

"Queen Cersei is beside herself with grief for her beloved Uncle," he muttered. He did not seem convinced or happy. "She believes that we Tyrells have something to do with it as retaliation after all that has happened but I told her that…"

"Sorry my lord, what has happened?" she interrupted.

He looked confused for a moment. "Why Queen Margaery and Queen Cersei's arrests?"

Nymeria stared at him blankly. "Arrested? Why on Earth would two Queens of Westeros be arrested. The King would not dare to arrest his wife and mother surely?"

"Did Prince Doran did not inform you?"

"I've been travelling for a month my lord. Ravens were not sent to me on our travels."

He nodded and muttered. "Of course, of course. Both of them are to be tried for the crimes of adultery and treason. Cersei was meant to have hers yesterday but after what happened to her uncle… she chose trial by combat you see while my Margaery wishes to be tried by the seven. Of course they are not guilty."

"Of course, my lord," she agreed. Margaery most likely, Cersei was not so sure of. Even in Dorne they had heard rumours of the former Queen.

He sighed. He seemed exhausted. She could not blame him. "It is this new High Septons doing."

Nymeria scoffed. "You do not favour the seven?"

He looked stunned at the accusation and his mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish. "Of course I believe in the Seven. I pray every day for the release of my daughter. For the King's health. What blasphemy?" He sighed once more. "This High Septon though…"

I suppose this new High Septon will not approve of me, Nymeria thought. She had the pleasure of meeting the Queen of Thorns, Margaery's grandmother before and she doubted that the girl would be stupid enough to go against the King – not with her grandmother's guidance. Tommen was the third King that she had married. It was plain enough that the girl was desperate to be Queen of Westeros.

Cersei on the other hand, well Nymeria would not doubt that the accusations were true. She was no fan of the Lannister Queen – nor her family – but the rumours heard in Dorne were plain enough. That her three children had been sired by her brother and not her husband was wildly known. Nymeria never held this against the children though. There was enough inbreeding and incest in her own family line. Her own grandparents, Rhaella and Aerys had been brother and sister.

Her father – Rhaegar – seemed to have a distaste for the notion though. He married a Princess of Dorne instead. And a she-wolf of the North.

"And that is just the issues within the capital. The Ironborn stirring up trouble in the West, there is this supposed Dragon Queen… that Daenerys Targaryen causing trouble in the East and this pretender landing in Storm's End…"

"Pretender?" she asked, sitting up straight.

Lord Mace blinked a few times. "Oh," he replied. "Of course you would not have heard. Apparently Aegon Targaryen has risen from the dead." He scoffed. "He was apparently smuggled out as a baby. A pretender I'm sure. Many saw the child dead at Ser Gregor Clegane's hand… admittedly no one could actually make out the child… not like Princess Rhaenys. But a pretender no less… he will be quickly dealt with I'm sure. We are hoping for the help of Dorne with these threats…"

Nymeria's blood had run cold at what Lord Mace had told her. Aegon. Her little brother Aegon was alive. Alive. He was breathing, healthy and ready to claim his throne. She wanted to cry for joy. She also wanted to be sick. She did not doubt that this pretender could be her brother. After all, everyone was convinced that they had seen her body on the floor in the throne room that fateful day yet she had been shipped off to Dorne – a poor common Dornish bastard put in her place. They never looked at the eyes, it would have given it away. And this boy... he may be my brother but he may not be just the same.

She did not want to get her hopes up that another member of her family survived.

It has always been a blessing that her eyes were such a dark shade of purple, so dark that they could pass for black. Purple flecks could be seen in the right lighting but no one ever commented on it. Prince Oberyn had said that she had got them from her father. The only feature she supposed that she had inherited from the man. The rest of her looked like Elia. The rest of her looked like a Martell. It was said that Aegon was the one that resembled their father.

If this was her brother, surely she would know when she saw him.

Something in her blood would call out to him surely.

But where had he been? Why was he not with me?

Her mind was racing and before she could respond to the Lord of Highgarden, a young serving girl draped in the colours of House Tyrell came running into the room. She was heaving, clearly out of breath and bobbed a curtsey quickly. Lord Mace narrowed his eyes at the girl. "I'm so sorry milord, milady" she said, bobbing another curtsey, "but you must come now. You must come to the stable yard quickly. It is Ser Jaime. He has returned milord and he does not fare well. Quickly, please milord."

Nymeria was quick to her feet but Lord Mace was flustered as he got to his. "Does the Queen Mother know?"

The serving girl shook her head. "Not by my voice milord."

"Good, good," he muttered as they made their way back to where she had arrived.

"The Commander of the Kingsguard has been missing?" she asked. How messed up was this council?

"Aye," Lord Mace replied gravely. "Lost in the Riverlands by last account."

Nymeria nodded curtly. She hated Ser Jaime as much as she hated Lord Tywin. Not that she had ever met the man but he had been the one to murder her grandfather - Mad King or no. He had handed King's Landing over to that usurper. He had been in the capital and had not saved her mother. He was on the Kingsguard at the time and he had a duty to care for the royal family and yet, he had betrayed his solemn oath.

A White knight and blonde, she thought bitterly. The only White Knight in King's Landing at the Sacking.

She only had vague memories of the worst day of her life. Sometimes she wondered if more of her memories were based on recollections given to her by Oberyn rather than her own mind. He only spoke of a Blonde man - he never spoke the Knights name. She only remembered a Blonde man. Putting the facts together always lead to the same conclusion in Nymeria's mind but she refused to address it. She would not be beholden to that man.

She refused to put that man's face in the dreams that haunted her.

If she did, she might not hate him so much. She might think that he still had a shred of humanity.

Nymeria was vaguely aware of the way they were walking until they were back out in the familiar courtyard.

Standing before them was Jaime Lannister his clothes ripped, bloodied bandages across his body. Large gouges across his face and purple bruises wrapped around his throat. His golden hand was still strapped upon his wrist. She had heard vaguely of how he lost it. Beside him stood an extremely tall woman and a young lad, both in just as bad of shape as the Kingslayer.

Lord Mace started fluttering around giving orders but her eyes were focused on this man. The Knight that saved her life, she thought bitterly. That didn't stop her hatred for his family but she wasn't going to kill him. Not here. Not today. Not when he still held a life debt over her head. She wanted a fair fight when she did kill him. She wanted it to mean something to her.

She hated that when she looked at him, she thought him handsome despite his injuries.

She despised herself – and him – for that.

As she mused this, cat-green eyes meet her deep purple. Whatever colour had still been there drained from Jaime's face as soon as he saw her. It was like he had seen a ghost. She mused that perhaps he had.

He started to sway and he spoke one final word before his world succumbed to darkness.

"Elia?"

~o~

AN: Thank you to everyone that has reviewed, favourited and followed this story. It means a lot so thank you. I am hoping to get a new chapter written and out to you all at least once a week. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as well. Thank you for reading.