Chapter Text
They have been at sea for days now, and Princess Nymeria was beginning to grow restless.
She knew the journey to King's Landing would be a trying one, but she never imagined it would take this long.
In truth, Nymeria was looking forward to a change of scenery; a small part of her was excited to see the city. Even if King's Landing would never have been her first choice of destination.
The Dornish Princess looks out the small window; the sun has just risen moments ago, as she stares out into the horizon she is met with the seemingly endless body of sea. Still no sign of life or land beyond the occasional ripple under the water, always far in the distance, constantly beyond reach.
Nymeria lets out a yawn before retreating, back to the table where her uncle and Ellaria were enjoying breakfast.
Without saying a word she rests her head against Ellaria's shoulder, shutting her eyes.
The older woman smiles, but doesn't speak either. She takes a bite of her food before reaching up to massage the top of Nymeria's head with one hand. A simple show of affection, but it works to soothe the young Princess right away.
Nymeria has great respect for Ellaria. She adored her tenacity and free spirit. It so happens that they had many things in common, above all she was always kind to her.
Ellaria and Oberyn had proven to be better guardians to the Dornish Princess than her birth parents ever were.
"What is in King's Landing, anyway?" Nymeria finally speaks, an attempt to strike some conversation.
"Spoiled, greedy aristocrats.." The woman next to her was quick to reply and the Princess let out a chuckle in amusement.
"Poverty-stricken and starving smallfolk who despise them." Ellaria adds, and Nymeria finally lifts her head.
"Sounds like a paradise." She quips in response, reaching across the table to grab the flagon filled with Dornish summerwine.
Nymeria begins pouring herself a drink, but before she can move her glass closer to herself, her uncle intercepts it, stealing the wine for himself.
The Princess furrows her brows, she settles with glaring at Oberyn as he speaks.
"The Lannisters are in King's Landing." The Prince states and his niece squints at him, unimpressed.
"So that's why we are going? So you can take revenge on the Lannisters?" Nymeria's tone is lighthearted, almost mocking and Oberyn doesn't appreciate it but he lets his niece have her fun.
The Princess takes a bite out of a piece of bread, sitting back in her chair as she patiently waits for her uncle's response.
"Yes. But I wish to study them first, their strengths, weaknesses. When the time comes I will use what I have learnt to destroy them." Oberyn states with much conviction, his anger for what happened to his sister and her children many years ago, faces no trouble rising to the surface at the mere mention of the Lannisters.
It makes a shiver run down Nymeria's spine, but she attempts to shake the feeling off by clearing her throat. She reaches for Ellaria's glass, lifting the rim up to her lips before replying.
"How bleak, uncle." The young Princess throws the offhand comment before helping herself to a large swig of the older woman's drink.
"Here I thought we were visiting for leisure." Nymeria jokes, this time she earns a real laugh from Ellaria.
"Leisure, in King's Landing?" She then asks, bemused.
The Princess shrugs with a grin.
"Just how bad could it be?"
Only a little over a candlemark in the city and Nymeria is already looking to return to Dorne as soon as she can.
Her uncle and Ellaria have gone to tour the Street Of Silk, without being given much of a choice, Nymeria is left riding alone.
Oberyn expects her to represent him in her absence and she is dreading it. She was never one to excel at pleasantries; she finds them too practiced, superficial.
Besides, Nymeria has learnt to never trust first impressions.
She rides her horse through Fleabottom, heading to the pathway that leads up to the Red Keep.
The young Princess can barely acknowledge much else beyond the overpowering stench of human waste as her horse trots through the village. She has been riding for awhile now and yet, she cannot grow accustomed to the smell.
Nymeria observes the smallfolk as she passes by. Most of them dressed in tattered rags, skin and bones, caked in dirt and only the Gods know what else.
The Dornish Princess cannot conceal her confusion.
A great house sits on the Iron Throne, from what she has heard, one of the richest houses in Westeros, and yet, they cannot find it in themselves to feed their poor.
Nymeria feels indignant.
She wants to go home.
The Dornish Princess approaches the Keep, in the distance she spots two men.
One of which she recognizes almost immediately; Lord Lannister's youngest son.
Nymeria forces herself to put on a kind smile as she dismounts her horse, the loose fabric of her mustard coloured robes flowing as struts towards the man.
"Tyrion Lannister." The Princess calls out, she holds her hand out for the man to shake.
As it seems Tyrion was placing a similar game, he also forces a polite smile as she shakes her hand.
"Yes, forgive me. You are..?" The dwarf asks and the Princess doesn't bat an eye, entirely expecting the same question to come up more than once upon her arrival.
"Nymeria Martell." She explains, and Tyrion nods in realization, he then chuckles slightly, embarrassed.
"Ah, of course. The pleasure is all mine, Princess." The man states as earnestly as he can manage, Nymeria's gaze shifts to the boy standing next to the Lannister.
He inclines her head at her obediently and the Dornish Princess quickly deduces the young man to be his squire.
"I must admit my confusion, Princess. I was told I would be receiving your uncle, Prince Oberyn, today." Tyrion admits and this time it is Nymeria's turn to appear slightly flustered.
"Yes, well my uncle is–" She pauses, struggling to find the proper word.
"Preoccupied, at the moment." The Princess finishes and the dwarf only seems more perplexed.
"He is here, in King's Landing, yes?" Tyrion asks, looking up at Nymeria expectantly, she was quick to nod in response.
"Last I saw, my uncle was at the Street Of Silk." The Dornish Princess clarifies, and the Lannister chuckles again, as realization and what seems like relief washes over him.
"I gather you have no taste for brothels?" Tyrion asks, his tone lighter than before as he guides Nymeria to walk with him towards the Red Keep.
His squire trails swiftly behind them, gently guiding the Princess' horse along.
"No.. not the ones in the Crownlands anyway." The Princess replies with truth.
"Have you noticed the air here.." She says, but before she can finish, a voice behind her speaks.
"It smells like piss." The squire chimes in, and Nymeria is pleasantly surprised.
"Yes, precisely…" The Dornish Princess trails off, she gestures, waiting for the squire to hopefully tell her his name.
"Podrick." The young man finally states, pointing at his own chest.
"Exactly, Podrick." Nymeria repeats.
"I do not mean any offense but, if you cannot keep your streets clean I worry how you are with personal hygiene.." The young Princess states bluntly, this time Tyrion lets out a real laugh.
"I have no desire to find out." She adds and the man only nods, relenting.
"I suppose for you and many other Dornishmen the women here would be.. an acquired taste." Tyrion says and Nymeria nods at his words before shifting her attention to the sight directly in front of her.
She spots the multiple guards posted at the entrance to the Red Keep.
"Here we are. Now Podrick here will escort you to your quarters in the Keep." Tyrion states.
"Podrick, see that Princess Nymeria settles in well. I have assigned her an appropriate Handmaid, do just make sure she is comfortable and well tended." The man orders and his squire inclines his head in understanding.
"Very well, M'lord." Podrick says, and Tyrion turns to Nymeria once more.
"You've had a long journey, Princess, I urge you to rest before the feast tonight." He states and the Princess was not about to argue, she was due a nap after riding horseback by herself.
"Now if you will excuse me I'm afraid it is important that I locate Prince Oberyn and give him a warm welcome in person." Tyrion says, and his worried expression returns, knowing what her uncle is planning, Nymeria thinks the Lannister is afraid for good reason.
The dwarf walks away, leaving the young Princess with Podrick.
She smiles warmly at him, one he returns immediately.
"Please, lead the way."
Nymeria enters through the doors of the Great Hall with her uncle and Ellaria. Already filled with a sense of impending dread, even though the festivities had barely begun.
Her mood only sours further when they are told that they were not allowed to approach their seats until they have greeted the King and Queen Regent.
A reasonable request; if only they were punctual to their own feast.
"Where is the King?" Oberyn asks curtly, glancing at one of the kitchen staff stood next to him.
The servant only shrugs defeatedly before averting his eyes.
Nymeria sighs while Oberyn begins fidgeting impatiently, Ellaria has to intertwine their hands to soothe him.
The Princess begins eyeing the spread at the table, half of which is most definitely cold by now. Nymeria shakes her head, allowing her mind to wander before a sudden voice breaks her out of her thoughts.
"Are you from Dorne?" A young girl asks, and Nymeria is taken aback for a moment as she lowers her gaze.
"Yes, I am." The Princess responds, she chuckles in slight amusement as she turns to look at the girl.
"What is your name?" The girl continues to speak bluntly.
"I am Princess Nymeria Martell." The Dornish woman responds and the girl's eyes light up with visible excitement.
Nymeria swears she has never witnessed something quite as adorable.
"Nymeria, like the warrior Queen?" The young girl asks, and the Dornish woman takes a moment to glance over at Ellaria, bemused.
The older woman returns her look as she spectates their interaction. Oberyn can be seen watching them with only a scowl.
"Exactly like the warrior Queen." Nymeria states and the girl continues looking up at her in awe as she speaks.
"And who might you be, little one?" The Princess tilted her head when the question left her lips.
Nymeria can see the girl was clearly golden-haired and wore Lannister colours. If she had to venture a guess; this would make her the Queen's only daughter.
The Dornish Princess' suspicions are immediately proven correct with the girl's reply.
"I am Princess Myrcella Baratheon." She states and Nymeria smirks.
"I see.. it is nice to meet you, Myrcella." The Dornish woman responds with genuine fondness.
"But I have to ask– who were you named after?" Nymeria feigns curiosity but Myrcella is none the wiser.
The Lannister girl looks into the distance, as if deep in thought as she conjures an answer.
"I do not know, but my mother tells me that my name stands for 'young warrior'." She finally admits enthusiastically, and the Dornish woman's smile widens.
"Well, Myrcella.. It seems you and I have something in common already." Nymeria states and the Princess beams at her.
The Dornish woman planned to continue her conversation with the younger girl but she doesn't get the chance to as she hears the sound of footsteps approaching.
Nymeria watches as Myrcella shifts her gaze towards the sound, and when she does the same, the Dornish Princess is instantly hypnotized.
She can only manage to stare at the woman approaching her.
The other woman entirely fails to notice at her at first; this gives her the Dornish Princess time to observe her golden locks cascading down her shoulders, so elegant, effortless.
Nymeria does not have to ask to know, the woman standing before her is the Queen Regent.
She loses all sense of time and awareness, she cannot even begin to acknowledge Oberyn's glare directed at her.
As Cersei embraces her daughter, her gaze finally shifts to the Dornish Princess, and Nymeria's breath catches in her throat. She feels a fluttering in her stomach as the other woman looks at her.
At this moment she is certain the Queen Regent may be the only thing worth looking at in all of King's Landing.
"Your Grace." Oberyn's voice forcefully drags Nymeria back into reality.
The man inclines his head before taking Cersei's hand in his, he then lifts the Queen's hand up to his lips, kissing the top of it as a show of respect.
Ellaria instead does a quick curtsey, one Cersei barely acknowledges as she returns her attention back to Princess Nymeria.
For a beat, nothing is said until Oberyn does it for her.
"This is Ellaria Sand, and this is my niece, Princess Nymeria Martell." Oberyn explains gesturing to the Princess and Cersei raises her brows slightly in realization.
Nymeria takes the opportunity to grab the Queen Regent's hand, placing a tender kiss upon it, although there is nothing proper about the way her eyes never leave the Queen's as she does so.
Soon she releases the other woman's hand; Nymeria finds herself mourning Cersei's warmth already.
"Your Grace, I have heard tales of your beauty but-" The Dornish Princess starts but she is at a loss; no words can explain how she is feeling, not a single word in any vocabulary would suffice.
She allows her eyes to explore the Queen's figure once more. Nymeria notices that Cersei's red dress compliments every aspect of her; her complexion, her lips, her eyes. The gold accents of her accessories only work to highlight the colour of her hair.
It takes Nymeria's breath away.
Cersei catches the way the Princess is looking at her, it is impossible to miss; her gaze contained such desire and ferventness. It was shameless, lacked all propriety and decorum, and yet the Queen Regent was far from offended.
She continues gazing into Nymeria's eyes still not saying a word; relishing in the attention, thriving off it.
In this fleeting moment she allows herself to feel like the most beautiful woman that has ever walked the realm.
In truth, Cersei cannot remember the last time she felt seen, let alone desired.
"It is an honor to have you and your family here in King's Landing–" The Queen Regent states she does not bother to glance at the Prince or his paramour as she does.
Nymeria flashes Cersei a real smile in response and the Queen's expression in turn softens involuntarily.
Cersei's composure falters; the Dornish woman is allowed a glimpse beyond her hardened exterior, only for a moment, and that was enough, Nymeria was addicted, she craved more.
The Queen Regent opens her mouth to say something but she is interrupted by the doors opening once again.
"King Joffrey Baratheon, First Of His Name, King of Andals and The Rhoynar and The First Men, Lord Of The Seven Kingdoms and Protector Of The Realm." A member of the King's Guard announces and the entire room rises for their King.
Cersei settles herself next to Nymeria as the King makes his entrance and the Dornish woman is immediately distracted by their newfound proximity.
She feels the Queen Regent's hair slightly brushing up against her arm, in an instant she loses the ability to think clearly.
The young King approaches his mother, he barely acknowledges her before turning to glance at the Martells.
His eyes linger in between them, a scowl soon appears across his face that sparks immediate anger within Nymeria, the same way it infuriated Oberyn to stand and greet the Lannisters as if they were worthy of even an ounce of his respect.
However, both uncle and niece maintain a poised appearance, playing their part well.
"Your Grace." This time the Princess initiates a greeting, but before she can fully incline her head, the King slips past them without acknowledging them or his own mother any further.
Nymeria hears the Queen Regent let out a sigh as she trails after her son.
The welcome feast was progressing rather slowly but the Queen Regent was content enough taking part in the occasional small talk and forced pleasantries, as long as she had a drink in her hand.
Cersei finds herself stealing a glance at the Dornish Princess again, much like many times that evening, she drinks in the younger woman's appearance.
Her Dornish robes are nearly identical to the one her uncle is wearing, but there is something about the way Nymeria looks in her garment that Cersei is completely taken by.
She feels envious. The Princess was no doubt beautiful, captivating. Yet she is unwavering and commanding at the same time, in all the right ways, all the right areas.
The Queen only wishes she could present that way herself, to demand respect in every room she enters.
Cersei despises the fact that she has never felt like a true ruler. Now she is Queen Regent in name but she doesn't possess the temperament or disposition.
She simply felt like an accessory when she was married to Robert Baratheon and she still feels the same now that her son sits on the Iron Throne.
The Queen lifts her glass to her lips, taking another large swig of her wine, she doesn't expect to get through this affair sober.
Soon voices coming from a few paces behind her gets her attention. She instinctively begins listening in on the conversation being had.
Cersei eventually figures out who the voices belong to, one was a handmaiden under her service, and another a member of the kitchen staff.
"Gods, the Dornish Princess truly is a singular beauty, is she not?" The servant says and Cersei leans further back in her chair to listen closer.
"Yes, she is." The handmaid replies, amidst a giddy sigh.
"She is beautiful, no doubt, but apparently she has a bit of a reputation." The other woman adds, she lowers her voice but her words remain unconcealed from the Queen Regent's curious ears.
"Reputation?" The handmaid asks, perplexed.
"I do not know exactly what happened but it is said that she murdered a man back in Dorne, in cold blood." Her friend replies and Cersei hears a gasp, one she quickly deduced to be from the handmaiden.
"What?" This time the handmaid attempts to lower her voice.
"I assume the only reason she was pardoned was because she is Prince Oberyn's niece." The servant states boldy and this time Cersei doesn't suppress a scoff.
She shakes her head, almost amused. The Queen cannot believe how daft these women were; to gossip about the Martells right in their midst, they are begging to get caught.
"I have heard tales that she is prone to violence of that sort.. perhaps that is why she is unwed." The handmaid chimes in with another blatant assumption.
"But she seems so kind.." She adds and her friend snickers in response.
"Well, how would you know? She has only spoken two words to you." The servants jested and the other woman was quick to retaliate.
"That is still more than she has said to you." The handmaiden states and there is silence between them for a prolonged moment before the servant speaks again.
"Violent or not, I cannot say I do not enjoy a bit of danger.." She says earning a giggle from her friend and finally, Cersei rolls her eyes.
The Queen Regent sets her glass down harshly before rising from her seat, the two women jump slightly at the sight of her, almost as if they had entirely forgotten that she was there.
The golden-haired woman steps closer to the servants, halting once she gets close enough to whisper to them.
Her expression remains stoic, cold, and both women instinctively avert their eyes.
"If the two of you are going to stand around and gossip, it is best to do it when you aren't in an ear shot of the person you are speaking of… it's only polite." Cersei warns, she glares at them one last time before slipping past.
She walks towards the exit of the Great Hall, her sworn guards marching swiftly after her.
Nymeria's first night in the Red Keep was restless, perhaps it was the new environment, or the memory of her first encounter with Cersei Lannister that was not allowing her to get a good night's rest.
This morning the Princess leaves her bed chambers early, at first light, she has a quick breakfast prepared by the servants of the Keep. One she fails to finish, still not grown accustomed to the food in King's Landing.
The Princess decides to make her way down to the training yard, a desperate attempt to find some joy in her day, and distract herself from thinking about a certain golden-haired goddess.
She enters the yard, in hopes of finding a sparring partner; as she spots Jaime Lannister cleaning his sword in the distance, her lips form into a smirk.
Nymeria schools her expression before approaching the man, making her presence known.
"Jaime Lannister." The Princess greets him, but the Knight fails to return her smile as he looks up at her.
"Forgive me, have we met?" Jaime asks, his tone purposefully dismissive and it doesn't go unnoticed.
Nymeria doesn't know if she ought to be amused or thoroughly offended by this.
"Yes, we actually met last night." The Princess states as Jaime rises from his seat, he props his polished blade up against the bench.
"I am Nymeria Martell, Prince Oberyn's niece." She explains, and Jaime finally ceases the act.
"Ah, yes, of course." He responds, and Nymeria realizes she cannot pretend for much longer, she diverts the conversation on purpose.
"Quite a spacious yard you have here." The Princess states as she turns away from Jaime to look at the selection of practice swords they have displayed in the corner of the yard.
"I am afraid I left my weapons back home.. but I suppose this will do just fine." Nymeria states, mostly to herself as she picks up the wooden sword.
"Do you care for a quick spar?" She finally glances at the Lannister again and a flash of skepticism returns to Jaime's features.
"You know how to wield a sword?" The man asks and this time Nymeria is visibly offended.
"Almost everyone in Dorne knows how to fight." She retaliates after a beat and the man nods.
"I see, but are you not a bit young?" Jaime asks with a smug grin.
He approaches her with his hands clasped behind his back, Jaime's glaring arrogance was beginning to give Nymeria a headache.
The Dornish Princess understood, the man was undermining her on purpose, trying to get under her skin.
Jaime thinks she is no match for him, she plans to prove him wrong.
"I am old enough." She responds assuredly, extending the handle of the wooden sword to Jaime, waiting for him to grab it, and he does.
Later that evening the Princess returns to her quarters in the Keep, she mentally pats herself on the back for not getting lost along the way.
The walls of the Red Keep were entirely unfamiliar to her, each door identical to the next, as she turned the maze-like corners, she tried to imagine navigating this place in the dark. Nymeria is certain it must be impossible.
Just in time for supper she approaches the door to her chambers; the guard posted in front of it inclines his head at her in acknowledgement before stepping aside to let her through.
As she enters she sees her uncle sitting at the dining table, already helping himself to a plate.
Oberyn watches as his niece takes large strides towards him, an easy smile playing on his lips. Nymeria leans down to plant a chaste kiss on her uncle's cheek before moving to take a seat at the table opposite him.
"I heard you wounded the Queen's brother in the training yard today." The Prince says as he takes another bite of his food.
Nymeria makes a face at the accusation, brushing it off.
"Well, wounded is a strong word." She attempts to deflect from further questioning as she reaches for the spread of food, filling up her own plate.
"What did you do, Nymeria?" Her uncle's tone remains lighthearted, so she responds similarly.
The young Princess shrugs.
"As much damage as one can with a wooden sword." She responds, and Oberyn merely stares at her.
"It is called sparring for a reason."
"These people practice with false weapons, how exactly do they expect to win a tourney or fight in a real battle?" The Princess states and her uncle's expression shifts.
"I thought I told you to behave." Oberyn seems amused now and Nymeria lets out an exaggerated groan.
"I am bored, uncle, there is nothing to do here." The Dornish woman complains, sitting back in her chair.
"If fun is what you are looking for, the place they call Street Of Silk is only a short distance from here." Her uncle suggests and this time she grimaces, although before she can retaliate, a knock can be heard on the door before it opens.
A man enters, one Nymeria does not recognize but she soon distinguishes him to be a man of the King's Guard as she sees his white cloak.
"Begging your pardon for the interruption, my Prince. Princess, the Queen Regent has sent for you. She demands an audience in her solar this instant." The guard explains.
As the Dornish woman's eyebrows relax she cannot help the grin that forms across her face, one of delight and intrigue. She glances at her uncle and he wordlessly shakes his head in disapproval before defeatedly picking at his food again.
"Very well." The Princess replies as she stands, stepping away from her chair.
Nymeria is swiftly escorted to the Queen's solar, her heart is already pounding with anticipation but she forces herself to remain unfazed.
The guard pushes the door open, stepping inside, but the Princess is told to wait for her turn to enter.
"The Princess Nymeria Martell, Your Grace." The man announces, and the voice that comes after makes the young Princess' heart skip a beat.
"Thank you, Ser Meryn, send her in." Cersei says and the guard gives Nymeria a curt nod, she receives it as an indication that she should enter.
She does so and the guard steps outside, shutting the door behind him, leaving Nymeria alone with the Queen Regent.
The Princess stands by the door for a moment, she sees Cersei facing away from her, staring out the window. A glass of arbor red in hand, she fails to acknowledge the younger woman entirely.
Nymeria decides to break the silence first.
"You wanted to see me, Your Grace?" She asks, stepping closer and Cersei finally turns to look at her.
"How are you settling in?" Cersei asks cordially, but her expression is strained, Nymeria can tell she is holding off on something.
She decides to play along for the time being.
"King's Landing is very different from Dorne, I must admit I am still trying to get comfortable." The Princess responds but she quickly realizes the other woman is not listening as she approaches her.
Now Cersei is stood close enough that Nymeria feels her breath tickling her skin as she speaks.
"I heard what you did to Jaime.. You hurt my brother again and I will make sure you are returned to Dorne without a head." Cersei makes the threat; bold and presumptive.
There it is.
Nymeria shifts her gaze for a moment, she watches as Cersei's knuckles turn pale from how hard she is gripping her wine glass.
Evidently, the Queen Regent is bothered by the Dornish Princess' mere presence; she aims to find out why.
When their eyes meet again Nymeria can't help the smirk that forms on her own face. She is not intimated like Cersei wishes for her to be, what she is experiencing is nothing close to fear.
Instead the young Princess stares at the other woman with genuine intrigue, and it works to rattle the Queen as she breaks eye contact. She hastily moves away, creating a distance between herself and Nymeria.
This only provides the Dornish woman with the boost of confidence that she needed, she decides to have her fill.
"Would that be the wisest thing to do? Killing me, I mean." The Princess taunts, and Cersei looks at her again, this time with a scowl.
"Right now your alliance with Dorne is a necessity...I am quite certain you need us more than we need you." She states plainly, Cersei fails to respond but she glares at her in return.
She has her jaw visibly clenched, and Nymeria's excitement grows.
The Dornish Princess is determined to break down the Cersei's walls. She will spend her entire stay in King's Landing trying if that is what it took.
Nymeria bites her lip to supress another grin, she decides to tell Cersei what she wants to hear.
"I do apologize about Ser Jaime. It was not my intention to hurt him.. not really." She says.
"They speak of Jaime Lannister in the south; a great and noble swordsman, people say.. never misses a swing, he never loses a joust." Nymeria continues, Cersei watches her intently as she approaches.
The Princess does so slowly, almost as if she is afraid to startle the Queen Regent with any sudden movements.
As if Cersei were a dangerous predator, and she the prey. Although Nymeria is not running away, her intentions are far from it. In this moment she is offering herself willingly; she wants Cersei to capture her, devour her.
"Imagine my surprise when your brother turned out to be a lot slower than I expected, his moves entirely predictable." The Princess' tone suggests a jest but there is only truth to her words.
Cersei lets out a huff in amusement before stepping back to rest her rear against the desk, she sets her glass down next to her before replying.
"Yes, well, Jaime was never that great with a sword. He mostly gets by on his charm." She admits bluntly and Nymeria squints at her.
"So that means the stories they tell about him are over exaggerated..." The Dornish Princess says and the older woman shrugs dismissively.
"Most tales are." She states, folding her arms over her chest.
"I disagree." Nymeria quips, Cersei's expression turns inquisitive.
"Your grace, in Dorne, they speak of you as well... endless tales of your grace and beauty, all those songs sung by the minstrels... and i must say– songs and flowery words do not do you justice.. not in the slightest." Nymeria steps close enough that the Queen has to look up just to meet her gaze.
Cersei's cheeks turn a light shade of pink, the young Princess barely catches sight of it as the Queen forces a deadpan stare.
"Your attempt at flattery is pitiful, Princess, what do you want?" Cersei retorts, still keeping a secure front, she is determined to appear unbothered.
'I want you.' Nymeria thinks, but she does not voice it, not yet.
"Not flattery, Your Grace. I am only being honest." The Martell states, she wants more than anything to feel the other woman's lips against her own but she restrains herself, she cannot move too fast.
Instead, Nymeria boldly placing her hands on the desk, by either sides of Cersei's hips.
She hopes that the Queen Regent will meet her halfway and initiate the kiss.
Cersei raises her brows in surprise at the Princess' gesture. She looks down at Nymeria's hand on the desk before smiling, but it is not a genuine one, she aims to mock the younger woman.
"You have your uncle's arrogance.. dangerous thing." Cersei says, just above a whisper.
Nymeria leans in slightly closer.
"Is that a compliment?" She asks and Cersei's eyes soon flit down to Nymeria's lips.
It is unclear now who has the upper hand.
"I should throw you out of my chambers this instant." The Queen Regent replies, her eyes remain on the younger woman's lips and Nymeria holds her breath.
"So why don't you?" The Princess challenges.
Cersei's stare meets Nymeria's again, she scans her face, almost searching for something.
Then her mask slips, only for a moment.
Her voice trembles slightly as she responds.
"I don't know." The Queen Regent answers before she manages enough strength to stand, shoving Nymeria slightly before grabbing her glass.
The Martell stumbles backwards, no longer holding her breath, she observes as Cersei walks over to her small table to pour herself another cup of wine.
The older woman remains unspeaking as she takes a drink, moving to sit in her chair by the desk, now much further away from Nymeria.
The Princess sighs, Cersei proves to be a larger challenge than she initially expected; she decides to take a different approach.
The Dornish woman clears her throat before speaking.
"I hear your daughter is to be betrothed to my cousin, Trystane." Nymeria states, and Cersei looks up at her, taken aback at the sudden change of topic.
"I wondered if you would like to know more about him." She feigns innocence, pretending she has no ulterior motives.
"How he is like, and all that…" The Princess adds when Cersei fails to respond.
A blatant attempt to spend more time with the Queen, and yet, it works.
"Sit." Cersei orders, gesturing to the seat opposite her.
Her time spent with the Queen did nothing but further peak Nymeria's interest for her. It seems, the more Cersei tries to reinforce her walls the more eager the Princess becomes to knock them down.
It is nearing the Hour Of The Bat now and the Martell cannot hope to get any sleep; not tonight, not in her current state of mind. Any attempts to distract herself proved fruitless; all she can think about is Cersei.
Instead of pining all alone in her chambers, Nymeria finally decided to take her uncle's advice, she chooses to explore the city by herself, still unsure if she wants to venture through the Street Of Silk.
The Princess ends up at a tavern nearby, she thinks drowning in her cups will suffice for tonight.
-
Nymeria's time at the tavern soon begins to improve as she sees a familiar face walk through the doors, she calls out to the man even before he manages to spot her.
"Tyrion!" She exclaims and the man quickly glances in her direction.
"Please, come and join me!" Nymeria says, pulling out a chair for him.
Tyrion doesn't attempt to deny the Princess, their short interaction upon her arrival was indication enough that he would most likely enjoy Nymeria's company.
"What is the Master Of Coin doing out so late?" The Martell asks, as she pushes a fresh mug of ale closer to Tyrion.
"Well, that is because before I was Master Of Coin, I was the 'Master Of Cups'." Tyrion jests before chugging the contents of the mug.
"And you? What are you doing here all alone Princess?" He retaliates.
"I assumed you would not have much trouble finding a companion, based on your.. reputation." The man suggests, with little subtlety.
"My reputation?" Nymeria repeats, bemused.
Tyrion only throws her a knowing look before taking another drink.
The Princess is not offended by the assumption but she prefers not to speak of her former proclivities in Dorne, especially to someone she doesn't know very well.
She decides to redirect the conversation for now.
"Tell me about your sister." She asks bluntly, and Tyrion smiles at the sudden question, but he humors her regardless.
"What would you like to know?" The dwarf asks simply.
Nymeria decides to address the elephant in the room, her capacity for curiosity remains merciless, always getting the best of her.
"Those rumors about the Queen and her twin brother… Are they true?" The Dornish Princess asks in a hushed tone.
Tyrion deliberates a response. He eventually decides there is no use lying about something half of the realm already knows the truth of.
"They are true." He states, and Nymeria doesn't pretend to be shocked.
"I see." She says, staring off into the distance as she thinks.
"Are they in love?" The Princess asks with genuine curiosity; no hints of judgment, and Tyrion appears taken aback by it.
He takes another pause.
"In truth, I do not know what they are.." He speaks honestly.
"Whatever it is.. it has never included me." Tyrion states, with traces of self deprecation, Nymeria notices but chooses not to pick on it.
"She's very pretty, your sister." The Dornish woman claims, with a sly grin as she lifts her own mug to her Iips.
Tyrion stares at her, incredulous.
"Yes, she is." He replies.
"My sister also happens to be cruel and vindictive." The dwarf adds and Nymeria seems unfazed.
She shrugs.
"Her and everyone else in this wretched city." The Princess replies bluntly, earning a partial nod and laugh of defeat.
Tyrion soon begins to feel the effects of the alcohol in his system. Now he is entirely relaxed, which simply means the man no longer puts in the effort to filter his bold statements.
"You must stay away from her, at all costs." The Lannister says and Nymeria glances at him, skeptical.
Tyrion takes notice of the Princess' expression but he can't help the urge to continue giving her unsolicited advice.
"I am being serious. If you have any respect for yourself at all." He continues.
"You don't want to be involved with Cersei in any way.. Trust me, it never ends well." Tyrion begins slurring his words as he takes another long drink from his cup.
Tyrion's warning only worked to make Nymeria want the Queen Regent more.
She has always sought out to get what she wants, and she succeeds one way or another, the Princess doesn't see why this time will be any different.
The Dornish woman nods as she takes a sip of her ale, even though she has no plans on taking Tyrion's advice.