sullen: No, let's not drag it to that point. Catelyn is just desperate and an emotional wreck. Anything to give her some hope or nostalgia is good.

Guest: Thank you, Yes, Jon cannot move south for the moment, he is stuck in the North for now. But the Riverlands have been holding their own for a while...

ATP: This is book canon.


Nymeria

Nymeria felt the bed rattle, and slowly opened her eyes, sunlight quickly blinding her. Had she overslept again? The nights after the birth were certainly tiring, and she couldn't count the number of times that she had woken up well past midday.

Her bed shook again, and she lazily looked to her left. Quentyn sat there, his bare chest heaving, while peals of sweat were slowly dropping from his face. Concerned, she quickly brought her hand over his chest.

"What's wrong?" she quickly asked. "Did you have the nightmare again?"

Quentyn didn't answer immediately, preferring to swallow and quickly nod.

She offered her hand, which her lover quickly took and squeezed just hard enough for her to know he'd been scared once again. Quickly, she moved over towards him, combing his wavy hair with her free hand.

"There, love." She whispered, "There's nothing to worry about. I'm here. You're safe with me."

She threw her hair back. Usually, she'd have it in an intricate braid, but Quentyn loved when it flowed freely, and she didn't mind it either. It allowed her to be herself even for a moment. To be vulnerable but free nonetheless.

She freed her hand from his grasp, instead focusing on reducing his chest's heaving rhythm, his olive skin contrasting with her lighter tone, proof of her half-Volantene heritage. Slowly but surely, he calmed down and she kissed him chastely on the lips.

"I'm sorry." He shook his head. "I shouldn't have woken you."

"Stop it, love." She smiled back. "You know I don't care. And besides, it's training for when Aliandra starts to act up."

He chuckled and smiled widely. Nymeria loved her cousin's smile. It was a shame that he rarely ever did. She could barely remember when he had smiled in public. It was only when she was there with him, just the two of them, that he would smile brightly. And it was there that she saw the most of her father in him. His smile.

"Was there…anything new?" she asked.

"No." Quentyn shook his head while touching his scar, which despite having healed, still curved across his face. Nymeria knew that her lover hated it, but she couldn't help but like this facial feature, even knowing how it came about.

"It's the same thing. Over and over." Quentyn continued. "In a dark place, then a dragon, and then dragonfire envelops me. There's nothing more. But it's like I can feel the warmth taking me. I can feel the fire burning me. I can feel it all…"

"It's nothing more than a bad dream, cousin…" she whispered. "There are no dragons here. Only hawks."

Quentyn smiled again and she took the opportunity to climb atop of him, trailing her hands down his chest, and downwards from there.

"You know…" she smirked. "I could take your mind off of this dream…"

Her hands wandered down as she prepared to take off her light gown, but Quentyn quickly clasped her arm with his own hand.

"Nym…" he spoke softly. "The maester said to wait for two moons before it was safe."

"I feel just fine." She frowned slightly.

Instead, Quentyn rose, his gaze meeting hers, his lips brushing over hers before sealing a passionate kiss. It didn't last long, but her cousin broke it once more.

"I'm not gambling your health for a few moments of pleasure." He spoke softly, bringing his soft hands into her hair, which was flowing freely down to her lower back.

She pouted slightly, before smiling slightly.

"Is that because you want more time with the Fowlers?" she teased.

Quentyn frowned slightly.

"You know full well that it isn't that…" he touched her arms, helping her put the gown she'd shed back on.

"Oh?" she teased again. "But you seem content enough with Jeyne and Delilah. Admittedly I can understand, enjoying both at once must be fun..."

"I only did because you allowed me to. Not to mention you basically dragged me into Jeyne's bed that first night." He straightened up. "I love you and only you. You know it."

"Of course, I do, silly." She winked. "I was only teasing. If I had anything against it, I would have let you know. And besides, I had my own fun."

"Oh, that I have no doubt."

"How so?" she asked, feigning ignorance.

"You have a lot of qualities, love." He kissed her forehead. "But subtlety and discretion are not amongst them."

The half-Volantene bastard laughed.

"That we can agree on." She giggled, bringing her arms around him. "However…"

"However?"

"The minute these four moons are over, you better have exactly nothing and fuck all planned on that day, Quentyn Nymeros Martell, because I…" she started but was interrupted.

"I'm sure you believe that right now." He warned. "But you might not be so enthusiastic later."

"Oh? Pray tell, why?"

"Because you'd want to go outside, to ride, to spar again, and to spend your days exploring some of the mountains around here." He pointed to the windows which revealed a beautiful day over Skyreach, the snowy peaks of the Red Mountains being clearly visible in the distance. "After being stuck inside for so long, I bet you would rather go outside rather than stay in bed."

"We can do it outside if you want." She raised an eyebrow.

He stared blankly at her.

"Teasing, love!" she sheepishly laughed. "You know, you need to start knowing when I'm teasing you and when I'm not."

"I'll tell you that it's really hard to tell considering what I know of you."

"Fair point." She conceded. "But you're also right. I'm aching to start sparring again. It has been too long since I've touched a spear. And you almost forgot, but there is something or rather someone that needs all of our attention."

Quentyn smiled brightly at that.

"Do you want to check if she's awake?" he asked.

"Please do." She replied. "I want to hold her in my arms again."

Quentyn stood from the bed and put on a shirt before quickly walking to the crib adjacent to their shared bed. Slowly, he picked up a baby from it. Far from crying, the baby let itself be picked up, giggling while covered in sheets.

"She's beautiful." Nymeria let out while Quentyn slowly handed her to her.

"She's inherited that from her mother," Quentyn whispered. "She's even got your eyes."

Indeed, Aliandra had the viper eyes that characterized her and her sisters. However, her eye colour was that of Quentyn's: brown with a hint of gold. Her hair was dark but showed some silver streaks. It seemed that her own Volantene heritage had revealed itself in an uncanny way.

"Silver-dark hair…" Quentyn whispered while looking at Aliandra's face, smiling over her. "If anything, she'll look a Targaryen more than a Martell…"

"She's got your eye colour, though. Your nose, your face…and your skin too." Nymeria pointed out. "My skin is not that dark, but yours…they match almost perfectly."

"I can stay looking at her all day." Quentyn kissed her cheek, while giving Aliandra a small toy to fiddle her tiny hands around.

Aliandra. A daughter of House Martell. Their daughter. The epitome of their shared love, meant to seal their unspoken vows.

She had, unlike Quentyn, not been surprised when the maester announced her pregnancy. After all, even Quentyn's enhanced moon tea wasn't foolproof, and she did conveniently forget to drink it several times. Truthfully, she didn't know why she did it. It was just this primal feeling, to have something to seal their love with. It would never be marriage vows for them, but a child?

It was selfish of her, she knew. She regretted it deeply when she saw Quentyn's shocked face and was prepared for him to be mad at her. Instead, he brought her a tight hug and said that he loved her, but he would understand if she chose not to keep the child.

Not expecting this, she told him that she was completely fine with this arrangement. In fact, he was the one needing convincing, not her. And just like that, their fate was forever sealed. Their defiance and their love had given them a daughter, with the name of a strong princess of Dorne.

In truth, Quentyn only agreed with her because he thought it to be a beautiful name, but all the same. She would cherish their child whatever her name, although her cousin's suggestions were a little more original. Did a single member of House Martell bear the name Callisto, Cleopatra, Artemis or Athena? She couldn't remember. But they settled on Aliandra. Traditional, but much better.

She saw Aliandra slowly close her eyes again, and she sighed deeply.

"Maybe we should put her back in her crib, she needs some rest, and she'll likely be hungry when she wakes up. We might want to call the wetnurse." Quentyn proposed.

"You're right." She said, handing her back, Quentyn slowly lifting the sheets up, bringing Aliandra back to her crib.

"You can go back to rest, you know." He leaned back on the bed, looking at her with that snarky gaze of his. "I'm sorry to have woken you up."

"Don't be." She replied swiftly. "I'm there for you, just like you are for me. And besides, I can't expect you to be strong all the time."

"What do you mean?"

She laughed.

"Oh, love." She brought a hand to his cheeks, staring at his brown-gold eyes. "I know you put on this facade with everyone else where you make out to be unfeeling, strong, and calculating. But I like you as you are. When you're with me, you don't put on the mummer's act, and I love you for it nonetheless."

"I'm not that strong, you're right." He conceded. "But Dorne needs strength at the moment, and I must play the part. There will be time for weakness when our vengeance has been satisfied and our plans completed."

"I agree. And you are just that." She smirked. "You know, we're the same, you and I. It's just that I choose not to play a mummer's act, and you have to."

"With a few differences, still." He winked.

"True." Nymeria blinked. "You are smarter than I, braver than I…"

"I'm not brave."

"Are you not? Yet you fought Daemon and Gerold, still."

"I was reckless."

"Bravery and recklessness often come hand in hand. It takes courage to stand for yourself. It takes courage to make the hard decisions you did. Any lesser man would not have gambled so much on Lorch. Any lesser man would not stand up to my father or your uncle."

"I didn't take many risks."

"Perhaps not, but it was a brave move still. You can keep the facade, love, but to me you're just like I want you to be, and that includes your weaknesses, as your love includes mine."

He kissed her gently on the cheek, then.

"I'll love you for who you are, always. Don't ever change, my sweet viper." He winked.

"I never will, don't you worry." She forced his head down to level with hers and brought her lips to his once again. Was it the thousandth time? She didn't know. But what she knew was that it felt so good every single time.

This time, their embrace lasted longer, their lips staying sealed for gods knew how long. Yet Quentyn didn't really budge or try to force anything else. Indeed, he would not touch her until the four moons had passed.

However, their embrace was interrupted by a door opening. She didn't mind, it was probably the wet nurse coming to feed Aliandra, and she was used to running into unfortunate situations. She, therefore, continued to dig her hands between the curls of her lover's hair, until a very familiar voice caused them to instantly break their embrace.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Quentyn immediately stopped kissing her, his face going slightly pale, before whispering to her.

"Please don't tell me it's who I think it is."

She spared a look behind her cousin, only to see her father fully dressed, leaning against the door, with a wicked smile on his face.

"Uh…" she trailed for a moment before flashing a small, embarrassed, smile. "I think you know who it is."

"Shit…" he whispered.

"Don't worry." She said as she reached to bite his ear. "I won't let him hurt you. Well, not your pretty face or your manhood anyways, I like those parts very much. But the rest…"

He chuckled nervously, before slowly turning his head, settling on the bed beside her once more.

"Uhm…" he started. "U…Uncle Oberyn. How kind of you to come visit. You really should have sent a raven."

"Well, if I had sent a raven, it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?" he mischievously grinned.

"I suppose not." Quentyn was slightly sweating now. "Why have you come?"

"Well, my daughter gave birth and I wasn't going to miss the birth of my first grandchild." Nymeria's father stared daggers into Quentyn who was visibly panicking. Sensing this, she brought her hand to his.

Her father knew to be scary, but she would be damned if she let anything happen to Quentyn on her watch.

Instead of making a straight line for Quentyn, her father went to the crib instead and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of their child.

"Father, are you alright?" Nymeria asked, worried.

"Fine, my sweet." He slowly brought a hand to his face. "I…I just feel like I've seen a ghost. Your…daughter, is that so? She looks like Rhaenys…just…lighter hair and different eyes."

"We named her Aliandra." Nymeria spoke up. "A strong name for a strong woman."

"And the union of two strong wills, I suppose?" her father almost scoffed. "I'll have some time to hold her, I expect, but first, I must bear some news from Sunspear."

"Oh?" Quentyn raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, Quentyn, your father isn't really happy with the men you've sent to dislodge Ser Manfrey." Her father frowned.

"In my capacity as governor, I appointed a regent. It is only fair."

"Mhm." Her father continued. "Quentyn, your father is feeling that you have been neglecting your duties as governor of Sunspear, especially due to your extended stay in Skyreach."

"I couldn't leave Nym here and…"

"Whatever your reasons…" he cut him. "Your father has decided to punish you by helping me in my mission to the capital."

"What?" Quentyn jumped from the bed, sparing a glance at the crib, seeing if Aliandra had reacted, before lowering his voice. "Has father gone mad? The Lannisters will tear me to pieces when I arrive."

"You must overestimate the Lions. I doubt they'll do anything to us; we are merely giving our help."

"Father, you can't be serious!" Nymeria snarled. "The lions are our enemies and we…"

"We shall take this golden opportunity to enact our vengeance. Well…part of it anyways…" her father looked at Quentyn sternly.

"If you're expecting excuses, you can dream." Quentyn stood up in front of her father, defiant like she had told him to be. "That bastard deserved every single dagger thrust and I don't regret anything."

"That he did." Her father nodded. "And that is also the reason why I'm not slapping your face right now."

"Then you must understand that the Lannisters will try to have me killed if I ever set foot in that damn capital." Quentyn pleaded. "Word has gone around Dorne thrice over, it must have leaked out to the Seven Kingdoms and the Iron Islands already."

"Tywin isn't completely mad; he won't attempt anything on the crown prince of Dorne for the murder of a lackey like Lorch." Her father shook his head. "He was insignificant to him, and he might well thank you for it considering his successor did a much better job holding Harrenhal than he."

"Why me?" Quentyn asked. "You don't need me there."

"Your father's orders, nephew." He shook his head. "I'm not here to question them, but he told me to drag you along there, with anyone you may need."

Something lit up in Quentyn's head, as it seemed that he was calculating possibilities in his head.

"I suppose we are to head to Sunspear first?" he asked.

"We are." Her father confirmed.

"Of course…" he whispered again. "Well I must organize many things…but this might just be an opportunity…"

"What are you thinking about?" Nymeria asked.

"Lots of things." Quentyn's face lit up. "How long will we be there for?"

"Just enough time to make ourselves useful to them, get our vengeance, and leave. Perhaps a few months." Her uncle shrugged. "I will have further details soon, but I may not trust you with them, yet."

"Fine." Quentyn sighed, resigned to his fate, before turning to her. "Are you fine with this?"

"Of course, since I'm coming with you." She smirked. "You didn't think that you'd get rid of me that easily, did you?"

Her father frowned.

"Nym, this isn't…"

"Well, you're certainly not taking me away from him, I'll tell you that much." She frowned in turn, capturing his gaze. "So, either both of us come, or none of us will."

"Love, there's Aliandra to think about…" Quentyn placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Ellaria can manage her for a few months." She saw Quentyn's smile fade. "Hey, love…I know what you're thinking. What you've said to me before…don't worry. It's just a few months. Ellaria knows how to deal with children, believe me."

"It's not Ellaria I worry about." Quentyn's tone was suddenly much sadder.

"It's only a couple moons, Quent." She rubbed his shoulder. "We knew it had to be done at some point."

Quentyn sighed deeply and nodded back.

"I hate it when you're right." He admitted.

"Has to happen once in a while." She smiled back. "You can't always be the one being on point."

"I don't remember giving my approval." Her father frowned, interrupting their short conversation.

"Father, I don't really need your approval. I'm coming wherever Quentyn is going."

"Nym, the capital is a pit of snakes and…"

"Father, I love snakes!" she smirked, exchanging a stare with Quentyn whose lips curved into a slight smile.

Her father took in a deep breath, and nodded slowly, exasperated.

"Fine, dear. You win." He nodded. "But I need a moment with you alone."

Quentyn immediately looked at Nymeria with a worried face. She just shrugged and brought him close, kissing him on the cheek.

"It's fine, love." She whispered. "Go take Aliandra to the wetnurse, I'll just tell you what happened later."

Quentyn nodded back without a word, and slowly picked up Aliandra from the crib. The baby giggled again, making both her and Quentyn smile.

"Come on, 'liandra." He teased their child. "We're going for a small walk. You are hungry, right? We need to feed you right away. We will see mama later, alright? Say bye to mama."

Quentyn presented their daughter to her and took one of Aliandra's hands and waved it from side to side, earning a giggle from both her and their daughter.

"I'll be back soon." Quentyn finally said, closing the door behind him while slowly taking their daughter away for her first meal.

Her father stood up for another few moments, before sitting at the edge of the bed. He looked at her for a long moment, observing her eye movements, before finally letting out.

"Really Nym?"

"What?" she asked, feigning ignorance.

"I didn't say anything about you and Quentyn because I said nothing before, and I would be a hypocrite if I ever did. I allowed it because I know both of your needs. But." He stared daggers at her. "I didn't think you would be stupid enough to have a child with your own cousin!"

"I love him, father." Were the only words that came out of her mouth.

"Oh, believe me, I know." He chuckled. "Arianne knows, Trystane knows, Obara knows, Ellaria knows. I'm sure even Dorea and Loreza knew before you two even admitted it to each other. But there are lines in the sand."

"We chose to have Aliandra. We thought about it for some time." she lied.

"Nym." Her father spoke softly, earning a frown from her. She wasn't a child anymore. "Think about this. You cannot confuse love and lust, they are different things. You've known your cousin only for, what, two years?"

"I don't…"

"Let me finish." He held up a single finger. "I don't particularly care for what you and Quentyn do behind closed doors. Gods know I've heard enough from your sisters already, and I've already got a good idea of why you like him so much. But you cannot base your whole relationship on what happens in your bed."

"Are you really telling me this?" she stared at him, eyes wide. "Do you regret having us?"

"What? No, my sweet, never!" her father defended himself, putting his hand above hers. "You and your sisters are the best things that happened to me. But I feel guilty because your elders grew up without a mother. You grew up far away from them, and as wonderful as Ellaria was, she was never your own blood."

"You said it yourself, father." Nym shook her head, tying her hair behind her back as she slowly made to stand, restrained only by her father's hand on her shoulder. "Quentyn is my cousin. Distance is not an issue."

"Is it not? Your cousin will have to marry and have heirs of his own. Aliandra will be a Sand, dear." He sighed. "As beautiful and lovely as she may grow, she will only be that. Your cousin cannot marry you."

"Good. I don't want to be a princess." She scoffed. "Quentyn can marry and breed an heir into one of these girls that think themselves princesses. But that life is not for me. All I want is to be free."

"To be free…but with a child."

"To be free, with him." She crossed her arms. "You do it well enough with Ellaria. I'm sure we can manage with a single daughter."

"Nym, I was the younger brother." He sighed. "I did not inherit the responsibilities Quentyn will eventually be called to bear…"

"Yet you governed Sunspear for years." She snapped back.

"That may be true." He conceded, "But what can Quentyn give you that you do not already have?"

"Love. Passion. Freedom. A shoulder to cry on. A person to laugh with. A mirror of myself." She looked him in the eyes, ever defiant. "A daughter. The man I love."

"A daughter that will not be a Martell. And a man who will belong to another." He sighed. "Again, your cousin will have to marry eventually. Would you accept him bedding another?"

She flinched slightly and raised an eyebrow.

"I allowed it before, why should this be any different?"

"Because he will have a wife, and he will have duties towards her."

"He will have a princess that rules by his side, and nothing more." She shook her head. "We've discussed this."

"Discussed what?"

"He can have a wife, sire a few children. But in the end, he cannot bed anyone without me knowing and giving my approval. And the same goes in the other direction. We certainly trust each other to do so. And we already have done that in the past." She spoke up, trying to tie the braids on her lower back. Understanding the hint, her father came to help her secure the loose hair. "He can find a princess for himself, one that bears his heirs and that will be presented as the consort of Dorne. But his heart belongs to me, and me only."

"I wish it for you, truly." He nodded. "Such arrangements have worked in the past but…would you be ready to be relegated to just Quentyn's paramour?"

"Yes." She snapped without hesitation. "I know he would for me. He knows me, father."

"Knows you?"

"I trust him with my life. He knows every single thing about me and I know every single thing about him." She smiled slightly while her father adjusted the last braids. "He respects my freedom, encourages it, even. He asked me to teach him the whip and the spear. How many men would have acknowledged being inferior to me? He asked about Volantis, the Free Cities, my mother…he cares more about my family in Volantis than anyone before that. I've got to say I didn't have answers to many of his questions.

Whenever I'm with him, it's like I'm…liberated. Like I don't have to be strong anymore. I can be weak with him. I can cry with him and he will not mock or demean me. He will stay up at night and listen to me till I fall asleep in his arms. I make him smile, father. Have you seen Quentyn smile? It's the most beautiful thing you'll ever see. He could win a thousand maidens' hearts with that heart, that scar, and that smile, you know?

You can say your say about lust and pleasure, and yes, I won't deny it, father. At the start, I kept him around because he was quite skilled and because I had a score to settle with Arianne. But after a few nights, it became clear that he was just like me. Pretty, Impetuous, brave, direct, without a care in the world. The difference with me is that he represses it, he puts on this mask that you all fall for, the calculating, intelligent, perfect prince.

But with me…oh father, you wouldn't believe the person Quentyn is with me. You would think him to be my twin from another mother. A little less vengeful perhaps…but otherwise…"

She laughed.

"Oh, you know nothing about him! Nothing!" she giggled uncontrollably. "The things he has done and will do. His plans for Dorne, oh father how I wished you could know the man Quentyn Martell truly is!"

"What? His plans for Dorne?" her father stared blankly at her.

"Mhmmmm." She nodded, smirking from ear to ear. "Great plans. Greater than anything you or the prince in the gardens could ever dream of. Better than anything both of your minds could have planned."

"What does he have in mind?" he frowned back.

"Oh, if I tell you now, I would have broken the secret, and I never will. I promised, sorry father."

The existence of Daeron Targaryen and the reveal that their cousin Aegon Targaryen was still alive… were things that would certainly send her father mad. Best to keep them for later. And besides, it was a secret. And she would rather die than betray Quentyn's secret.

"You keep too many secrets, dear. One of them is bound to come out."

"Quentyn will decide when to tell you about anything." She shrugged.

Her father finished tying her braid, saying nothing, but if he was shocked by these revelations, he certainly didn't show it.

"I can't convince you otherwise?" her father sighed deeply. "You and Quentyn…"

"How many times will I have to repeat that I love him? Do I have to make love with him in front of you so that you may judge with how much passion we do our business? Should you follow us every instant for a moon so that you may see how we exchange affections, how we talk, how we laugh, how we cry, and how we play? Father, if I tell you that I wanted this child more than him, would that satisfy you?" she asked, pulling a dagger and placing it and its belt around her right thigh. "Quentyn thought that it was too early, just like you. But most of all, he didn't want to be a bad father. He didn't want to be…"

She frowned deeply, before hissing.

"Like his."

Her own father stayed silent, all the while she walked around the room, heading towards a wardrobe, deciding on a lilac robe to wear for the day.

"Aliandra was our way to marry." She picked up a little box, smiling all the while. "To seal our love so that it may never be broken. To show the world where our hearts lay. We both wanted her, and we both will give her all of the love and attention she deserves. She is our little princess."

Opening the box, she slowly pulled out a few jewels, picking up her favourite snake armband, but also a small ring.

"Quentyn gave me this on the day of Aliandra's birth." She took out the ring, showing it to her father.

It was a beautiful ring, made of diamonds, with a carved pearl at the centre. Quentyn had told her that it was a Dornish pearl and that the image carved was carved out of a single one. It represented two snakes curled around a sun, one of them forming the letter "Q" and the other forming the letter "N", with both heads joining right under the sun itself. Through the sun ran a small spear, made of an orange diamond.

"Quentyn gave it to me, as since Aliandra was our way of marrying, then we should have our wedding present." She said, while her father stood dumbfounded.

Quickly, she put on the ring. It was, after all, quite elegant, and did not hinder her movements in the slightest like other jewelry would.

"That ring is worth a king's ransom…" her father looked on, wide-eyed.

She nodded.

"I felt terrible when he gave it to me. I told him that I could never hope to match it, that I myself did not have coin to buy him anything of that worth. Do you know what he said?" she asked.

Her father shook his head.

"You already did. You gave me Aliandra. Anything else that I can give you will only pale in comparison. A hundred of these rings will never match the value of the present you gave me to seal our love."

Her father stood there, dumbfounded, and not knowing how to react. She shook her head, sliding another dagger beneath her dress. Did he finally understand? Did he finally give in?

I am yours and you are mine. That's what they had told themselves the night after Aliandra's birth. Their fates were sealed forever, and she would never regret the day she pronounced these words.

Let us soar, father.