Chapter Text
Sea and Sand.
303 A.C.
The atmosphere was tense atop the Great Pyramid of Meereen when Theon and Yara Greyjoy were brought before Queen Daenerys Targaryen and her loyal Hand Tyrion Lannister; only two had met before, but it had been so long ago, and a great many things had changed in those years.
“Last time we saw each other was at Winterfell, yes? You were making jokes about my height, I seem to recall.” Tyrion began, addressing Theon to break the silence. “Everyone who makes a joke about a dwarf's height thinks he's the only person ever to make a joke about a dwarf's height. ‘The height of nobility,’ ‘a man of your stature,’ ‘someone to look up to.’ You're all making the same five or six jokes.”
“It was a long time ago.” Theon said meekly in response, to which Tyrion pressed;
“It was. And how have things been going for you since then? Not so well, I gather. Can't imagine you would have murdered the Stark boys if things had been going well.”
“I didn't murder the Stark boys. But I did things that were just as bad or worse.”
“And he paid for them.” Yara spoke up in defence of her brother.
“Doesn't seem like it. He's still alive.” Tyrion noted. “It was complicated for you, I'm sure, growing up at Winterfell. Never quite knowing who you were. But then, we all live complicated lives, don't we?”
“You've brought us 100 ships from the Iron Fleet with men to sail them.” Daenerys smoothly changed the subject to the present, as that was all that mattered to her at that moment. “In return, I expect you want me to support your claim to the throne of the Iron Islands?”
“Not my claim. Hers.” Theon nodded his head in Yara’s direction.
“And what's wrong with you?” The queen enquired.
“I'm not fit to rule.” He admitted.
“We can agree upon that at least.” Tyrion remarked flatly.
“Has the Iron Islands ever had a queen before?”
“No more than Westeros.” Yara answered, making Daenerys smile slightly.
She already found herself attracted to the Ironborn woman’s rugged beauty, and her responses were endearing her on a more characteristic level.
“Our Uncle Euron returned home after a long absence. He murdered our father and took the Salt Throne from Yara. He would have murdered us if we'd stayed.”
“Lord Tyrion tells me your father was a terrible king.”
“You and I have that in common.” Yara again commented in a way that linked the two female rulers’ histories together.
“We do. And both murdered by a usurper as well.” Daenerys agreed, before addressing her Hand. “Will their ships be enough?”
“With the former Masters' fleet, possibly. Barely. There are more than 100 ships in the Iron Fleet.”
“There are and Euron is building more. He's going to offer them to you.” Theon stated.
“So why shouldn't I wait for him?”
“The Iron Fleet isn't all he's bringing. He also wants to give you...” Theon began, remaining timid and diplomatic, but his sister cut to the chase by stating;
“His big cock, I think he said.”
Daenerys smiled, and shared a conspiratorial look with her Hand as Yara continued;
“Euron's offer is also an offer of marriage, you see. You won't get one without the other.”
“And I imagine your offer is free of any marriage demands?” Daenerys kept her eyes on Yara, clearly she held all the power between the siblings, though she couldn’t fathom why.
“I never demand, but I'm up for anything, really.” Yara teased, and the queen had to stop her mind from wandering away with possibilities.
“He murdered our father and would have murdered us. He'll murder you as soon as you have what he wants.” Theon said quickly, keeping the conversation on track.
“The Seven Kingdoms.” Tyrion clarified.
“All of them.”
“And you don't want the Seven Kingdoms?”
“Your ancestors defeated ours and took the Iron Islands. We ask you to give them back.”
“And that's all?”
“We'd like you to help us murder an uncle or two who don't think a woman's fit to rule.” Yara replied with a knowing smile.
“Reasonable.”
“What if everyone starts demanding their independence?” Tyrion asked quietly.
“She's not demanding, she's asking. The others are free to ask as well.” Daenerys replied simply, before returning her attention to her guests. “Our fathers were evil men, all of us here. They left the world worse than they found it. We're not going to do that. We're going to leave the world better than we found it.”
The queen rose to her feet, and made her position clear;
“You will support my claim as queen of the Seven Kingdoms and respect the integrity of the Seven Kingdoms. No more reaving, roving, raiding, or raping.”
“That's our way of life.” Yara breathed, looking the queen in the eyes to see if she was serious.
“No more.”
The two Greyjoys shared an uncertain look, so Daenerys decided to sweeten the deal;
“I am not as hard or cruel as my father, so while I may take a part of your people’s past, I offer a gift in exchange.” She said softly, seeing intrigue flicker to life on the Ironborn faces. “Your uncle thinks I’ll be impressed by his marriage proposal or his ‘big’ cock, I’m afraid his offers do not interest me. I do however put forward a marriage proposal to you, in exchange for your support and you ending your people’s more violent customs.”
“You want to marry me?” Theon spluttered.
Daenerys smirked and turned to look at Tyrion, who hadn’t moved from his position.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but did I not make my disinterest in men obvious when I didn’t react positively to the idea of Euron Greyjoy’s ‘big cock’?”
“You were quite clear, your grace.” Tyrion smirked, before addressing the two people not in the loop. “An incident occurred shortly after the death of her grace’s former husband, the result of which, to put it plainly, is that she has no interest in wedding a man.”
“You’re a lesbian?” Yara asked, her tone implying she didn’t quite believe what she was hearing.
“Men may find what they can see of me attractive, but there is part of me that would make them feel inferior; so yes I am a lesbian, if you wish to describe me so simply.”
Daenerys watched as Yara cottoned on almost immediately to the truth buried in her flowery language, a smile flickering in one corner of her mouth; Theon, on the other hand, was clearly confused but to polite to inquire further, but he did ask;
“So... You wish to marry Yara?”
Daenerys nodded.
“I’m not sure marrying an Ironborn would make your popularity in Westeros increase, certainly not one who’s the same gender as you.” Theon commented.
“The lords of Westeros will certainly not be happy.”
“I’m not interested in winning the lords’ approval through loveless marriages, but more through good deeds and strong relations; failing that I will appeal to the people of Westeros instead.”
“Talk of appeasing Westerosii lords can be tabled for now, at this time the queen’s offer stands before you; will you support Daenerys’ claim to the Iron Throne in exchange for ending the more aggressive Ironborn traditions, and accept a marriage contract between the queen and Lady Greyjoy?”
The two Greyjoys looked to each other, silently conferring, before Yara faced the queen again.
“Why not, don’t think a Kraken has ever ridden a Dragon before.” She smirked, before holding out her right arm.
Daenerys looked up into her eyes and smiled, before clasping Yara’s arm with hers, signifying the agreement had been struck.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Weeks later, with help from Yara’s Ironborn fleet, Daenerys and her small council landed on Dragonstone; though she was only newborn when she was last on the island, feeling the sand beneath her fingers felt like she was truly home again. It wasn’t long before her council grew to include more Westerosii, namely Ellaria Sand and Olenna Tyrell, each the head of their respective regions of Westeros.
After a session where she and Tyrion laid out their plan for ousting the Lannisters from Kings Landing, the queen took a moment to speak with her new allies one on one; firstly with Olenna, who reinforced the notion that she should ‘be a dragon’, before she sought out Ellaria Sand, who was in a quiet chamber with three of the Sand Snakes.
“Ladies, I wonder if I might have a moment alone with Ellaria,” Daenerys said when the Dornish women rose to greet her.
“Of course.” One of the Sand Snakes nodded.
“I promise we won’t be long,” she reassured them as they filled out of the room.
“Did my desire to see the Lannisters bleed displease you in the council meeting?” Ellaria asked as Daenerys sat opposite her.
“It did, but that’s not why I asked to speak with you alone.” The Queen responded, keeping her tone soft and warm. “I wish to speak with you about a more... Personal matter.”
Ellaria raised an eye brow, and picked up her goblet of wine.
“Go on...”
“Defeating the Lannisters and claiming the Iron Throne will mean little if there are not stronger ties between me and the land I wish to rule, but have never seen nor set foot on.” She began, choosing her words carefully and diplomatically. “The best, and least bloody, way for me to forge connections to Westeros is through marriage.”
“Where does a bastard like me come into this talk of marriages?”
“House Martell and House Targaryen have a long and... Complicated history, but before Robert’s Rebellion they were connected through marriage, something I’d quite like to re-establish.”
“But I am not of House Martell, and the last male heir...”
“Was killed by one of the ‘Sand Snakes’ at the same time as Myrcella Lannister, I know; but I am not interested in wedding a man, I only have eyes for women.”
This piqued Ellaria’s interest, and she put her goblet down and leaned closer in a conspiratorial manner.
“You may not be of Martell blood, but your daughters are, I was wondering if you would consent to me wedding one of them to re-establish connections between House Targaryen and Dorne.”
“My daughters are also bastards like me, and while they have the blood of Oberyn Martell, they do not have his name.” Ellaria sighed, before adding; “I would also want to know which of my daughters you have set your eyes on.”
“Tyene.”
“Ah, Oberyn's desert rose. She may be beautiful, but be aware of her thorns.” Ellaria said playfully. “Will you legitimise her before marrying her? I’m not sure many lords will approve of you marrying a bastard?”
“If your Dornish army win me the throne, I’ll legitimise all the Sand Snakes as Martells,” the queen promised, before adding; “I’m not sure the world is ready to lose a bloodline as strong as House Martell.”
“Ah, but even if you do wed my daughter, two women cannot continue a bloodline,” Ellaria pointed a finger at Daenerys. “Unless there’s something you are hiding from the world... At least for now.”
“Very perceptive.” Daenerys nodded her head a fraction, giving a conspiratorial smile as she did. “Let’s just say that when I walked into the fire with those three fossilised eggs, my dragons were not the only change that occurred; I changed... Physically.”
“Show me.” Ellaria said in a whisper, before reclining in her seat and picking up her wine goblet again. “Don’t be timid now, Daenerys Targaryen, you don’t have to be bashful around me; we Dornish are free lovers, and I have embraced it proudly, there is nothing I haven’t seen on a man’s body, or a woman’s.”
Daenerys took a moment before agreeing with a nod; she rose to her feet and slowly lifted the hem of her dress up until it was at her waist.
“If you want to see it, you’ll have to do more than sit there.” She teased.
Ellaria put her wine down again, and slowly reached across and pulled down her queen’s undergarments, revealing the Targaryen queen’s deepest secret.
“My daughter will be a lucky woman indeed.”
“So you consent?”
“I’m having a hard time not demanding you wed me instead.” Ellaria purred. “When you sit on the Iron Throne, Tyene Martell will be there beside you.”
‘She won’t be the only one ‘beside’ me.’
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Tyrion’s carefully crafted plan fell apart as quickly as it had been formed, and by a complete miracle, Tyene had been left on Dragonstone when her mother and sisters sailed south. Ellaria had wanted her daughter to spend some time with her betrothed, instead of departing for Dorne; Tyene was surprised by the proposal, but after seeing how envious her sisters were that she had been personally chosen, she started to enjoy the idea.
When Daenerys received word of the ambush at sea, and the news that Euron had captured his niece Yara, but apparently killed everyone else, she took the difficult task of informing the younger woman that she was now the oldest of the Sand Snakes, and the rightful Princess of Dorne.
“Oh, your grace... I mean, my queen...” Tyene stammered, showing an unusual shyness.
Daenerys had learnt from a previous conversation that Tyene had often been picked on by her older sisters, which forced her to hide secrets, play timid, and wait for the opportune chance to strike; this was symbolised best by her weapon of choice, poisoned daggers may not kill straight away, but over time they will.
“Did you come to chat again? I quite enjoyed our last one, or...”
Tyene moved toward her bed, seating herself on the edge before teasing Daenerys with a hint of her left breast.
“Do you want to get to know each other in a different way?”
“Keep your clothes on, for now.” Daenerys said softly, taking a seat beside Tyene and looking the Dornish woman in the eyes. “I’m afraid I have some bad news...”
“Tell me.” Tyene swallowed, her mind leaping ahead to think of all the worst outcomes.
“Lady Yara’s fleet was ambushed in the night by her uncle’s, her ships were no match for his, and she was captured...” She began, putting her hand on Tyene’s. “I... I’m afraid that your sisters were killed...”
“And mother?” Tyene choked on the words.
“I don’t know... There was no body, but if she did survive...” She admitted, before edging closer to Tyene. “We both know who Euron will take your mother to; but our troubles don’t end there. Grey Worm and the Unsullied walked into a trap, the Lannister army marched on Highgarden, so I’ve lost the support of the Reach and Dorne, and Cersei has only temporarily lost her home.”
“So what happens now?”
“I’m going to make Cersei understand why the lion doesn’t bite the dragon’s tail.” Daenerys said through gritted teeth.
“What about me? I want revenge!” Tyene snarled. “Let’s hunt down the Kraken and burn his ships to ash!”
“And risk Yara? I can’t do that, besides as I just said Euron will have sailed back to Kings Landing, and without support I can’t attack that city.” Daenerys explained, remaining calm despite the emotions in the air. “But the Lannister army is in the Reach, where there are large, open fields with little cover; perfect for my Dothraki and my dragons to overwhelm them.”
“What about me?”
“I know you want revenge, but if we act recklessly, we’ll only be playing into Cersei’s hands.” She counselled. “I know this may be hard to believe right now with everything going on, but I actually like the idea of being with you after all this is over; but that can’t happen if you stick your neck out only for Cersei to cut it off.”
Tyene looked Daenerys in the eyes, letting her see the emotional war that was raging behind her dark brown eyes.
“So you want me to stay here,” she said after a long silence.
“You’re now the Princess of Dorne, and while this castle isn’t as nice as I’m sure your homeland is, it’s my family’s ancestral home on Westeros,” Daenerys looked around the small bedroom. “If we’re to be a happily married couple we need to trust each other; I’m trusting you to look after Dragonstone until I return.”
“You’re leaving me in charge?”
“You won’t be alone, but you’re not a prisoner here.” Daenerys smiled, and made to rise, but Tyene moved quicker than the queen.
She rolled backwards on to the bed, wrapping her legs around Daenerys’ waist to pull her on top of her. The queen made to cry out, but the Sand Snake lived up to her name by striking quicker than her. In a flash she wrapped her arms around Daenerys’ head and pulled her into a passionate kiss.
“You’re taking the death of your family a lot better than I expected,” the queen breathed, when she was given a moment to.
“I’ll have plenty of time to mourn them when you’re making them pay, right now I want to see how much you want to be with me.” Tyene growled, her hands moving to undress her queen.