Chapter 43: GOT : Chapter 43
( Nymeria )
It felt good to finally leave the walls of Bitterbridge castle, the chatter and the laughter finally having taken their toll on Nymeria. The Reachers certainly knew how to throw feasts, and she'd forgotten for one moment that they were supposed to be at war.
Is that what they did at Storm's End, during the rebellion? Just feast and wait? With the numbers Renly had, it would be easy to storm King's Landing or crush the Lannister forces that survived the great clash at Riverrun. Yet, he continued to feast.
And it was no small gathering either. Thousands of Reachers and Stormlanders were stacked in Lord Caswell's halls, filling their bellies with pheasants and chicken, salted fish and roast geese, mushrooms, onions and turnips, dozens of different pastries and of course barrels of wine and beer.
She also had to admire Renly Baratheon's welcome. Despite there being thousands of people in Bitterbridge Castle, seats were found for the whole Dornish party amongst the highest Reacher and Stormlander nobility, whether lords and ladies.
It was odd seeing so many ladies here, but many followed their Queen from Highgarden, and no doubt that many lords were also looking to broker marriages and alliances between the different bannermen. She expected to see such a reunion at a lord paramount's nameday or wedding, but not while fighting a war. But here they were, feasting.
And so, drink and eat they did, and it wasn't long till Nymeria had her fill of the roasted boar, cooked tomatoes and wine of the Mander Rush. As the festivities went on though, she quickly lost interest in the Reacher lords and stepped outside, needing a breath of fresh air and a walk.
"Are you alright?" Nymeria looked to her left, seeing Quentyn's gaze fixed on her. It seemed that her cousin had noticed her leaving and had shadowed her movements. "You look unwell."
Truth be told, she was quite unwell indeed. Ever since the rains poured down on them at Summerhall, she'd felt like the weight of the worlds had dropped on her shoulders. And the shouts and laughter in the halls of Bitterbridge tonight had made her head ring like a bell.
It was odd, she thought. The first time she'd been to the Reach, the weather had been perfect and she'd never felt more alive. This time however, autumn had come, and with it the cold and the rain.
She missed Dorne and the Water Gardens, the hot embrace of the sun, the soft touch of the Garden pools.
"Slightly." She finally replied. "I think it's the journey that tired me. I needed some air."
"I see." Her cousin nodded, looking at the stars, the night having just set in.
"Weren't you with Ned and Lucian?"
"Oh, Lucian is completely drunk, and Ned is busy with the Rowan sisters."
"Think that he'll be able to handle them?" she asked. "You know how furiously the little Dayne lord blushed when he sent for us while we were fucking in the river at Ashford."
"I thought he was doing quite well." He shrugged. "And he needs the experience, I do hope he will be brave enough to take at least one into his bed."
"Good." She nodded. "Let's hope the old Mathis Rowan doesn't value one of his daughter's virtue that much, then. But don't you want to enjoy yourself more? You haven't eaten much."
"I thought that I ought to keep you company? I do not wish you to be alone if you're feeling unwell." He pointed to the richly-decorated dress that she hadn't bothered to remove for the feast. "Especially with this dress, you might injure yourself."
"I can handle myself." She answered swiftly.
"I have no doubt." A shadow of a smile appeared. "But it should still be wiser that I stay with you. Mayhaps we should go to the riverbanks?"
She looked back into his dark eyes and nodded.
"I'd like that."
The pair continued down the hundreds of tents pitched outside the castle, far from the tumultuous cacophony of the feasting men, down towards a small clearing close to the river. They spotted an oak tree, and rested on its roots, watching the river flow slowly by.
She looked back at Quentyn, who slowly sat on a tree stump near the oak tree, while she stayed standing up. Her gaze stayed fixed on her cousin's face, which was still rippled with the scar Daemon had given him.
He looked fiercer with it, but she knew that Quentyn disliked it. And she couldn't blame him. Such a scar did ruin part of his pretty face, but it now had an aura of danger and mischief that he lacked before. And one that she cherished dearly.
She never expected Quentyn to be well…what he was. Arianne had always demeaned him, describing him as a traitor and a scared, weak boy. But he was none of these. Quentyn loved his family dearly. He wasn't a brave warrior, nor did he claim to be, but he was far from weak or inept.
A weaker man would not have survived his fights against Daemon and Gerold, however weakened they may have been. A weaker man wouldn't have defied Prince Doran so brazenly. And a weaker man certainly would not have kept her interested for so long.
It was curiosity that brought her to share his bed. Of course, she had hoped to deflower the young prince, but that opportunity had sailed and sunk to the bottom of the Sea of Dorne quite fast. Her confidence was high, and the prince still broke.
Once.
They had told each other. If she could turn back time, she would laugh at her old self. After the insults Arianne had thrown at her, she had intended to keep Quentyn close just to spite her cousin, but everything changed after the incident with Daemon.
She felt responsible for what happened, having perhaps put Quentyn to put his life on the line. But he never resented her for it. Not once. And as they got to know each other, she found in him the heart of a true dornishman. One who cared about everyone, highborn or lowborn, but who also never accepted to be put down by anyone, whether they were above his station or not.
He had a sharper mind than her, but it was harder for him to control his emotions than she could. So, they had taught each other. She would teach him to remain calm under difficult circumstances, the intricacies of the politics in the Free Cities, how to wield a spear as well as a sword, and well…to hit the right places.
In return, he taught her much about the Seven Kingdoms, including very personal knowledge about many of their lords and ladies, he taught her about the ways in which to make medicine and heal others, and his own fears and plans.
The only issue she had was how he treated Tyene, like a toy that he had used for his own benefit. But she had to eventually concede that her half-sister was planning to do exactly the same to her cousin, and would have ended up doing something really stupid. Still, she didn't approve of the methods Quentyn had used to push Tyene away.
Still, though, she and Quentyn had made each other laugh and smile, and their…well…relationship, if she could call it that, extended beyond the bedroom in every sense. At some point, she began questioning if she could take other lovers. It was no secret that the Dornishmen were a lot more open in their ways of dealing with such things. And she had asked Quentyn if he minded.
He of course told her that he didn't have a problem, and that she was free to do whatever she liked. She did take his word for it, but every moment in bed with another felt like a sting to her own pride. And likewise, every time that she heard that her cousin had taken someone else, she either felt resentment towards him for doing so, or wished harm upon the aforementioned woman…or man for that matter.
But she was a Dornish bastard. A Sand Snake. And snakes were not allowed to feel anything. They were not weak and she wouldn't give into her darkest fear. To get attached to him.
She pushed these thoughts out of her mind as her cousin finally broke the silence.
"I miss Dorne." He said, catching her off-guard.
"You do?" Nymeria reacted in surprise. "I thought you would be happy to see more of the World."
"I am…but..." he trailed on. "You know it's when you are finally far away that you start missing home the most. I thought that this trip was going to be an opportunity to see more of the World, but now I miss the laughter and cheers of the Water Gardens, the sweet summer breeze and the smell of oranges and lemons, the sound of the waves crashing and the warm embrace of the Gardens pools…"
Every word he spoke made her wish that she had never left Dorne and stayed at the Gardens paradise. But she went anyways. Not because Quentyn asked or because she wanted to see the Reach again. But because…she wanted to.
"I miss Dorne too." She confessed. "I miss the warmth, the feeling of the sun kissing my skin and the smell of spices in the markets."
He smiled.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone