GOT: Reborn as a Martell

It had been some time since Nymella Toland hadn't seen the Water Gardens.

The lady of Ghost Hill had fond memories of that place when she was fostered there, during simpler times. Times when she wasn't the lady of Ghost Hill, and just a young girl looking how to best cause mischief in the pools of the Water Gardens.

Then her father died, and suddenly the weight of the world now hung on her shoulders. She had hoped to dodge these responsibilities. After all, her brother Vincent was much better at ruling than she was.

Instead, she had fancied herself princess-consort of Dorne. She had befriended the current prince, Doran, during her fostering, and they had remained close. Her mother Loreza, had seen the advantages in a Toland match, and was ready to give her approval.

But Doran, like all Martells, was as hot-blooded as his ancestors. He openly defied his mother, and rejected any marriage offers.

Nymella didn't take it badly. Doran had always said that he would marry on his own terms, and not let it be dictated by her mother, who already had plans to wed both his sister and brother as well.

But when Loreza Martell sent Doran to Essos to "think it over", the last thing that she expected was for her eldest son to return with a bride. And by then, her health was too frail for her to protest.

Two moons after Doran's return, Loreza Martell passed away, and Doran became Prince of Dorne, and married his Norvoshi woman.

When Nymella met her, she knew exactly why he had done so. Princess-consort Mellario was extremely beautiful, generous and kind. Not at all what she had expected from a lady of the Free Cities, whom generally acted as pompous brats, thinking themselves descendants of the Valyrian gods themselves.

Nymella could see how happy they were together, and her last hopes of becoming princess-consort died then and there.

Instead, Nymella's father Maron betrothed her to a Stormlander, Julian Estermont, a cousin of the Estermonts of Greenstone.

Indeed, the Tolands had long been an exception amongst the Dornish on the coastline, or as the northerners called them, the "Salty Dornish". A word invented by Daeron Targaryen when he invaded Dorne.

The Young Dragon had divided them into the Sandy, Stony and Salty Dornish. While it was accurate in the general sense of the word, it was also a gross generalisation of Dornish culture. 

For example, while House Gargalen and Wyl were Salty Dornish, they were much further apart from the Tolands than the Tolands to the Fowlers or Blackmonts, for example.

The Tolands, unlike the Jordaynes to the west, and the Wyls further north, did not have olive skin and dark hair.

Instead, their skin was light, like that of the Stony Dornish and the Yronwoods. But what really set them apart from any other house in Dorne – or the Seven Kingdoms for that matter – was their bright, red, hair, one that made the Free Cities jealous as even the best dyes failed to replicate it.

House Toland had kept their lighter skin and red hair through the generations because of their relative isolation compared to the Dornish houses. House Toland usually married with Stormlanders, such as the Estermonts, Conningtons or Tarths due to their privileged trade links, as well as northern Dornish houses, such as the Blackmonts, Fowlers and Manwoodys.

As such, their light skin never gave way to the darker shade that other Dornishmen such as the Jordaynes and Martells, their closest neighbours, had, and their red hair had continued to be passed through the generations.

Nymella herself had six children, and all of them bar her youngest, Mara, had bright, red, hair. Mara having instead inherited her father's brown hair.

Her brothers had also inherited this bright, red, hair, which made their face look like an unending fire was alight atop of them.

She missed them all dearly.

As she married and had her first child, war came to Dorne, and with it, it took her brothers, who looked to gain glory by defending the realm against the rebels.

Vincent, Gerold and Alvin, all left her to guard Ghost Hill, and none of them ever came back. They were all slain at the banks of the Trident, like so many others, and their bones likely still lied there, for they were never identified.

She liked to believe that they fought and died side by side, as they always had during their sparring sessions. When news came of their deaths, Nymella's younger brother Lucian had wanted revenge, and stood next to Prince Oberyn when he cried for vengeance.

Nymella understood his pain, but it was war. Her brothers always knew that there was a chance they would never come back. And she would not have lost Lucian, a boy of four-and-ten, to another folly.

As such, she drew the ire of many, who took her as craven, who sought to protect her Stormlander husband from their "vengeance".

Vengeance or not, Nymella would never have let any of these fools harm a hair on her husband's head. As such, she defended herself viciously. Her husband was a Toland, and a Dornishman. He was not one of the Usurper's lackeys, nor did he kill her brothers at the Trident.

Her husband was guilty of some things, but a traitor and a murderer he was not.

As such, for her dogged defence of her husband and her willingness to humiliate some lords in the process, loathing slowly became respect, and soon enough everyone learnt to not cross the path of the "Dornish Dragon" lest you be burnt along the way.

Her younger self would laugh at such a moniker.

But as time took its toll, she saw the births of Teora, Vincent, Nymeria, Daryon and Mara, and began to take pride in her moniker.

Her recent pregnancy had stopped her from involving herself too much in the affairs of Dorne however, but she could not help but notice something was changing rapidly.

Indeed, reports from Yronwood came about a miraculous powder that could cure infections and diseases alike. And when she saw who came up with these ideas, she nearly couldn't believe it.

What's more though, is that prince Quentyn contacted her first, with plans. Plans for the construction of new ships to defend the Dornish coastline. Built out of northern timber, they would be sturdier and faster than the old, rugged, ships, that Dorne currently possessed.

While the slow decrease of trade from the free Cities made her raise some eyebrows, the fact that Dorne was starting to produce everything locally compensated greatly for it. 

The shipyards of Ghost Hill had work once more, and the new production of glass, perfumes, soaps and iron, combined with the improved culture of olives, grapes, cotton and almonds made coin flow into the coffers of House Toland. 

And all she had to do was keep the Free Cities from getting too involved in their affairs by signing various deals, buying their spices at slightly higher prices than the usual, and of course pitting them against each other instead of against Dorne. Child's play.

As such, when prince Quentyn arrived at Ghost Hill on his way to Sunspear, she had taken the time to talk to him. 

And although she couldn't decipher how the prince got his ideas, she could see some of his father in him. A wild spirit, like all Martells, but one with ambition. 

And at least this one acted on his promises of sending Dorne to new heights. Seeing the prince with her eldest daughter had rekindled hopes of a match between houses Martell and Toland, but she quickly remembered how these hopes had ended the first time she'd harbored such thoughts.

Teora was soon sent to Sunspear, and by the news she'd gotten, her daughter had gotten better. She had often worried for her health, and had asked Valena to convince the prince to see what was wrong. The prince had then offered to keep Teora in Sunspear for a year, to see how she would do there, and by all accounts, Teora was having less and less dreams and visions, as she called it.

When news came a few moons later of princess Arianne's disinheritance, Nymella could hardly say that she was surprised. The princess was already on a knife's edge as prince Quentyn's popularity was extremely high amongst both the smallfolk and most of the nobility, and only the Rhoynish succession laws protected her.

When news came to Ghost Hill from her brother Lucian that the princess had had the bastard of Godsgrace try and assassinate her brother in fear of him taking action against her, she buried any regrets she held of her initial decision to applaud prince Doran's declaration.

Lucian, on the other hand, was more measured. Despite liking prince Quentyn, he felt as this would set a dangerous precedent and invite more Yronwood presence at court.

These fears were soon squashed as nothing changed, and instead, the changes that prince Quentyn had started in Western and Northern Dorne spread through the kingdom like wildfire, and Yronwood actually lost most of the influence he had, by losing the monopoly on Quentyn's powder, which was now being made by about every large Dornish house.

So, when a few moons ago, she received a runner from House Uller, detailing a conspiracy to remove prince Quentyn from power and restore princess Arianne to the position of heir, she laughed.

Then she read the letter again, and saw that Uller was deadly serious.

She knew that half the Ullers were mad, and that the other half were worse, but this was utterly ridiculous.

Not only was princess Arianne disinherited because she nearly had her own brother killed, but killing off prince Quentyn would mean dire consequences for Dorne.

For one it would probably mean civil war. Even if Yronwood had lost some influence, both his heir and the second in line to Yronwood, along with the son of one of his most loyal bannermen, were in Sunspear and close to Quentyn. With Quentyn gone, not only was the security of his companions in jeopardy, but Yronwood would call his banners even if it wasn't.

Secondly, Doran would never let the murder of his son go unpunished, and neither would Oberyn. She could see the lengths to which they were willing to go for their dead sister, and nothing would save the would-be assassins from their wrath for killing a Martell.

Thirdly, all of Dorne's advancements would be reduced to ashes. The current improvements could be kept, but most of them relied on the prince himself to improve, streamline and coordinate, and she doubted either princess Arianne or prince Trystane could replace him in that regard.

As Dorne was slowly ridding itself of its reliance on the Free Cities, and slowly enriching itself, these idiots would have stopped it all.

And when Nymor Allyrion, one of her childhood friends, came and tried to sway her to Uller's cause, she had had enough. She was ready to see who was involved in this folly, and used every way of getting information out of him, including when the attack would take place.

When she had gotten all that she wanted, she had Nymor placed under arrest, and sent a runner to the Water Gardens and Sunspear, as well as a raven. Unfortunately, she was already too late to stop the assassination from taking place.

Thankfully, the prince escaped the attempt, despite it reportedly being done by a Sorrowful man. And when Oberyn Martell came, she thought that the prince would kill Nymor on the spot.

Instead, the Allyrion had an unfortunate accident that day, as he was being transferred to Sunspear. It is said he tried to escape, and in doing so, fell into a ravine and broke his neck.

The fact that he was bound and gagged for the whole journey, and that the ravine was more like a cliff, didn't bother her. Accidents tended to happen around the Martells whenever you harmed a member of their family. She just hoped Ryon wouldn't miss him too much.

It all brought her to this point, as she made her way through the Water Gardens to watch the trial of the rest of the conspirators.

This was a Dornish trial, so therefore, there were five judges, not the usual three that the Seven Kingdoms would see. 

There would be three representatives of the nobility, one representative of the Faith, and one representative of either the smallfolk or the Orphans of the Greenblood, depending on the case.

Here, due to an Orphan being on trial, there was an elder of the Orphans, Symon, that would be a part of the judges. Alongside him would be Septon Wyland, of the Sept of Sunspear, as well as Prince Doran Martell, Ser Myles Manwoody, and herself.

Hardly a fair panel, especially since she would serve as both a witness and a judge, but still, prince Doran was not in the mood to give this scum a fair trial.

"Lady Toland." A voice called her.

"My prince." She smiled as she recognized the voice that had called out.

Her eyes widened. The man before her was not at all what she had expected.

She thought that prince Doran had been plagued by illness and grief, and was a broken man, unable to walk or ride. Yet, the man in front of her was as handsome as ever, with his brown eyes and dark, short, beard. He had a cane, alright, but he never seemed to be in need of help as he stepped closer, his Norvoshi guard shadowing him closely.

"Now, my lady." He smiled. "No need for such formalities between friends. Call me, Doran, like we used to."

"Then, Nymella it is, my friend." She smiled. "You've gotten better, Doran, what has gotten into you?"

"I've never felt so alive." The prince of Dorne confessed. 

"A few moons ago I could barely walk. Now, I only use my cane because I still need it to keep my balance, but the pain has gone."

"I'm glad to hear it." She nodded, as two figures came forwards.