GOT: Reborn as a Martell

( Nymeria POV )

For all that the sun could try and shine with all its might, it couldn't so much as scorch Nymeria's skin. Volantis was just as warm as Dorne, and despite the absence of clouds, there was no sunburn to be seen.

However, one must admit that the heat was much harder to bear, and even one who has lived all their life in the sands of Dorne must relax in the shade even for a moment.

This is what she does, then, patiently waiting in the large tent clad with Martell colors, drinking a small Dornish red, while observing her surroundings.

The tent was large enough to accommodate a good twenty people, but the only ones present were Quentyn, the Yronwood cousins and Ned Dayne. And while she was perfectly relaxed in her chair, the same could not be said for her cousin, who was pacing around in his tent like a lion stuck in a cage.

"I told you it was a risky move." She smiled slightly, bringing her lips to the Dornish red once more.

"I didn't know she'd make it a condition." Quentyn abruptly stopped, sitting down on the couch, while staring into her eyes.

"Were you expecting the boy never to try and tame a dragon?" she asked again.

"No. I just expected…" Quentyn trailed off as she raised a finger in the air, stopping him.

"I know what you thought, but jealousy and desire work hand in hand," she continued, placing her now empty glass on the small wooden table in front of her, "one day, Aegon would have gotten fed up of not having a dragon of his own, and he would have tried to tame one. After all, if they are right there, unclaimed, surely, he would have attempted something?"

"I thought that he could be convinced that it was not a good idea." Quentyn shook his head. "I was foolish."

"Now wait a moment," Cletus Yronwood's voice cut through their conversation like a knife through butter. "Why are we discussing this? Surely Aegon will succeed, he is a Targaryen, after all."

"Not all Targaryens can immediately claim a dragon." Lord Dayne shrugged.

"Yes, for some it can take years," Quentyn added, "some even never bond with one."

"That may be true, but surely no Targaryen has failed in taming one before, then why worry?" Cletus asked. "You are all acting like Aegon is going to the gallows!"

Quentyn's worried gaze met Nymeria's amused one.

In unison, they both turned towards him, although Nymeria addressed her lover first him first:

"He doesn't know?" she asked with a sly smile.

"No." Quentyn stood up from his couch, avoiding Cletus' eyes.

"Know what?" Cletus crossed his arms, confused. "Is there another secret you kept from me?"

"Not necessarily from you personally," Quentyn continued in a softer voice, "I just kept this information to who I…trusted completely."

"What information?" Cletus' face was now closed, almost angry.

"Aegon…might not be who everyone think he is," Quentyn confessed.

The truth hit hard, but to Nym's surprise, it was the Dayne boy who reacted first.

"What do you mean?" the boy asked. "Who is he, then?"

"I'm not sure." Quentyn shrugged. "He could be a Targaryen, to be sure, but…"

"…would Elia have really accepted for her son to be saved but her daughter sacrificed?" Nymeria continued, "The story makes little sense, the more you dwell on it, the more holes appear…"

"And you knew this?" Cletus asked, outraged. "Who is he?"

"I don't know," Quentyn admitted. "Targaryen, Brightflame, Blackfyre, or just a boy taken from the streets of King's Landing or Essos, for what we know."

"I…I can't believe this." Cletus ran a hand through his hair, abruptly moving towards Quentyn, who didn't flinch. "And why did you think it was a good idea to marry him to Queen Daenerys?"

"Because we don't have any other options."

Nymeria noticed Ned Dayne almost opened his mouth at that, but closed it.

"Other options? How about the boy that has a damn dragon?" Cletus aggressively pointed outside. "It would certainly have saved us the trouble of flipping a coin on a boy's parentage!"

"Because the 'boy with a dragon' as you call him, was raised a bastard, and he is, for as long as I decide, a bastard. Maybe, if we're lucky, he would have had an education that would allow him to run a small keep in the North, maybe a few lands. He joined the Watch, what else can he know but rule a bunch of criminals and wildlings? And all of this is if, and that is an absolutely massive if, he wanted the throne and not to protect Northern independence, which is still going to be a pain in the ass to deal with."

Quentyn took a breath, then continued, "Meanwhile, Daenerys has had no education on rulership, her attempts so far have caused only chaos and I'll be damned if Slaver's Bay doesn't sink into anarchy in the next few years. She has no vision or plan, just ideas."

He then gestured in the general direction of Aegon's camp.

"Aegon has been raised to be a king. Yes, I am aware that Connington has probably tainted his view of the world a little, but the fact remains: he is well-versed in everything Daeron and Daenerys are not. The art of ruling is not something you can pick up in a few months. The Spider meant for him to be a good king, and as slippery as that fucker was, I can say that he did that right."

"We're not supporting Aegon for his blood, Yronwood," Nymeria said plainly, "we're supporting him because he can bring peace and stability."

"Since when do you care about that?" Cletus scoffed.

"Daenerys Targaryen was bound to come back to our shores at some point, Cletus." Quentyn frowned. "I'd much rather have it be on our terms than hers. She is still young and influenceable, surrounded by idiots and yes-men. If we are to consolidate and expand Dorne, we need her, and we need her now."

"I cannot believe this," Cletus growled. "How long have we been friends, Quent? Ten, fifteen years? And you hide this from me?"

"From us." Ned Dayne rose his voice, arms crossed behind the heir to Yronwood.

"Is that what our friendship and trust is worth?" Cletus continued, his voice deep with sadness and anger, before pointing a finger at her. "Is she worth more to you that you can trust her?"

"Yes." Quentyn's answer came down like a blade, and it seemed like Cletus had been executed.

At a loss for words, Cletus stammered for a few moments, looking aghast.

"You…you chose her?" Cletus looked at Quentyn now, his eyes filled with anger.

"I have a name," Nymeria hissed, not liking the tone the Yronwood boy was using.

"Shut up!" Cletus growled. "I don't know what Quentyn finds in you other than a pretty face and I frankly don't give a shit. All I know is that you wrapped your pretty fingers around him like the snake you are and I only tolerated you because of the affection I have for Quentyn. This does not concern you, whore!"

Nymeria rose up, a hand firmly attached to one of her daggers she hid behind her back. It took all of Quentyn's strength to hold her back from drawing blood.

"Be careful, Cletus." Quentyn frowned deeply.

"Or what?" The Yronwood boy almost laughed. "What will you do, my prince? Send me back because I have displeased you? Is that what our friendship is worth? For you to betray our trust like this, and trust that…that…snake with your secrets?"

Suddenly, a deep voice boomed through the tent,

"I knew."

"What?" Cletus immediately turned around, along with all of the gazes of the people inside, towards Archibald Yronwood.

"I knew about Aegon," the tall man simply said.

"Gerris and Gulian know as well," Quentyn spoke softly, while Cletus looked baffled. "That's why Oberyn didn't come. I needed him to stay for if he somehow recognized Aegon as not being Elia's son…"

"…we needed a fait accompli, as they say in Lys," Nymeria added. "My father would've sent it all flying to the ground for a bit of pride."

"Wha…why did I not know? Why did Ned not know?" Cletus asked, confused as ever.

"Ned was too young, I couldn't trust him with that information," Quentyn said with a sigh "As for you, you did not bring me enough proof that you were trustworthy."

"Based on what? What happened in the capital? I thought I had done my penance!" Cletus pleaded; his voice having gone from anger to defeat.

"You talk too much," Quentyn explained "In your cups or in bed. I'm sorry."

"All of that based on that shred of information in the capital? I never told a soul!" Cletus reacted with energy. "How can you know where it came from?"

"I only told you."

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