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MYRIAH

The white sand of Dragonstone's beach was a great contrast to the obsidian cliffs surrounding them. Myriah found them to look prettier from afar, now that she had climbed from the boat which had taken her party from the Dawn Treader to the island. Truth be told, she was in a rather foul mood: Elia had gotten seasick and couldn't keep any meal down, Ser Humfrey and Varion had been quarreling from the minute they got onto the ship, whilst Edrick had been screaming on the top of his lungs since he realized that the big birds he had just spotted were, in fact, living dragons.

And on top of that, Daenerys Targaryen hadn't condescended to greet her visitor and possible ally herself, so instead she had sent a group of Dothraki warriors and a brown-skinned woman with tiny dark curls that made her hair kinky. "Our Queen Daenerys welcomes you to Dragonstone, Princess Myriah." She said and gave her a smile.

But Myriah didn't smile back, because she was still trying to calm Edrick, who cried into the crook of her neck. "And you are?"

"Missandei," Missandei said, now smiling worriedly.

"And where do you come from, Missandei?" She asked sharply.

"I was born on Naath, one of the Summer Isles."

"I believe even in Naath servants bow to nobles." Myriah scoffed and heard Humfrey chuckle. The woman looked baffled and intended to stammer an excuse but Myriah wouldn't have it. "This is Edrick Stark, heir to the North and his father's crown. He had not stopped crying since your queen's beasts almost caused my ship to capsize. You best show us the way to the castle now, before these monsters cause any more harm."

"Of course, your Highness," She said quickly, "Follow me, please."

With Edrick clutched to her chest, she and her companions walked up the neverending stairs to the fortress of Dragonstone, the ancient seat of House Targaryen, with its walls as dark as the night and stone creatures from the seven hells as watchmen. A mere look at it gave Myriah chills, even more so the three grown dragons circling around it. She had heard many tales of dragons, Old Nan had told them often enough. Like every other child, she had once dreamed of seeing real dragons fly, but now, their sight could only upset her. Living, fire-breathing dragons were as big as a threat to the Seven Kingdoms as the Army of the Dead was, especially when their mistress had no control over them.

It was a climb up to the gates, but eventually, they reached them. Missandei led them inside and through the halls. "The Queen awaits you in the throne room. She wishes to welcome you now, but insist that all politics should wait until tomorrow."

"How very generous of her," Myriah smiled falsely.

It was a farce.

Once they had reached the throne room, she put Edrick down, making him stand on his own two feet, and wiped the tears and snot off his face and then off her shoulders. "Edrick, don't be scared anymore. We are save in here. Look, we even got Elia and Varion and Uncle Humfrey to protect us." Myriah explained to her pouting son, while she knelt down in front of him. "And Queen Daenerys is our friend, she won't let any harm come to us."

Her words encouraged Edrick more than her, so he simply nodded and took her hand. Proudly, Myriah chuckled and kissed his cheek, before she smoothed down her skirts and straightened her shoulders. They entered the hall hand in hand, where, upon a throne of obsidian, the silver-haired Targaryen Queen sat with a smirk on her lips and a blank look in her eyes.

The last of her kind, Myriah thought to herself, the last remains of the great Targaryen dynasty and she knows that. She couldn't deny that Daenerys was a beauty, though save for her hair, there was nothing exceptional about her appearance.

Missandei took her place by her queen's side, among the Queen's Hand. At the sight of the half-man with his golden hair and scarred face, Myriah grew tense. The damned Lannister- dwarf. Despite everything Sansa had told her, she hated him and his whole inbred family to her guts.

"You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen," Missandei announced and Myriah was ready to curtsy, but then she continued. "Rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains."

With great difficulty, Myriah hid her smirk by bowing her head as she curtsied. "Your Grace." She said as reverently as possible, waiting for someone to announce her as well.

"Myriah of House Martell, Ruling Princess of Dorne and Regent to Edrick Stark, heir to the North, is honored to be called to Dragonstone upon your personal request, your Grace." Ser Humfrey spoke in his usual calm, yet amused manner.

"I am very pleased to bid you and your son welcome at Dragonstone, your Highness." Daenerys Breaker-of-Chains said. "This only proves that you meant what you wrote in your letter, that House Martell stands behind House Targaryen as one of their most loyal, powerful allies. Why not continue what our ancestors began?"

I am convinced I wrote "beside" not "behind", Myriah thought, but this was of little importance right now. "I am not here to break faith since it is not in the interest of me or my people. I have come to Dragonstone to find out whether the interest in continuing such alliance is mutual or not." She answered sheepishly.

Daenerys squinted her eyes. "It is, I can assure you that."

"And I have expected no less, your Grace, though, in times like these, one can never be sure." Gently, she ran her fingers through Edrick's hair, who was hugging her leg quietly. Everyone's looks where now drawn to the little boy. Myriah smiled, "Do you not find it to be rather amusing that when Dorne first joined Seven Kingdoms under the Targaryen rule, it was the Princesses Daenerys and Myriah that secured this very treaty with their marriages."

"And here we stand." the Mother of Dragons responded, smiling as well. "Another Daenerys and another Myriah, a century later. Only that neither of us has brothers to marry off."

"I believe we can handle without them. Besides, another marriage... that wouldn't exactly be after my fancy." Daenerys seemed amused by her words, and that was just the reaction Myriah had intended to get. She made a short break. "Forgive me, your Grace, but may we be allowed to retreat? My companions and I have come a long way and would like to rest until the negotiations on the morrow."

"You may," She nodded queenly, "Missandei, show our guests to their chambers and see that they are comfortable."

"Thank you, your Grace." Myriah curtsied again, slightly pulling at Edrick's arm to get him to bow. With another sweet glance, she and her son left the throne room, followed by their three guards.

The chamber her host had chosen for Myriah and Edrick was large enough for the two of them. It was half hewn in the stone of the Dragonmont, with a great fireplace and a canopy bed, a handful of small windows with a view on the Blackwater Bay, and a modest but comfortable sleeping cell for Edrick. Whilst Myriah's first action was to settle down on her bed, her son began to run around gleefully. Both of them were utterly relieved to have gotten off that ship. Though Myriah couldn't shake the odd feeling that their stay on this island would bring more bad than good.

In the morning, Myriah was visited by her two advisors, interrupting her and her son's breakfast. Both, Elia and Humfrey, were strangely quiet when the Princess explained her offers and demands to them over again.

"Alright, what is bothering the two of you?" She asked after getting the impression that neither of them was listening to her.

Humfrey gave her a worried glance and shrugged, while Elia didn't even look up.

"If you believe my plan to be nonsense, then tell me now, before I make a fool out of myself in front of Daenerys," Myriah stated with a sigh.

"That's not it," Elia spoke in a single breath, sounding weary.

"Pray tell." She replied and her cousin glared at the knight, letting him know that she wanted him to leave, which he eventually did. "What is Elia? You can tell me everything."

The Dornish bastard pulled back a chair and sat down. "Well, I can try." She wiped strands of hair from her forehead and tugged them behind her ears. "Yesterday, when I was resting from the journey, my mother came to see me. She had heard that we arrived and that I felt unwell. I didn't want to speak to her at first, but she is my mother, after all."

Myriah furrowed her brows, having a slight notion of what Elia's intentions were. Her cousin turned pale and sad. "So you talked. That's no crime." A rather bad attempt to encourage her.

"My father's death has changed her, and I am not trying to justify what she had done afterward because there will never be an excuse for that. Too many Martells have died already, and then she murdered Trystane and your father. But don't you see, there as so few of us left, we shouldn't be killing each other." Tears shone in Elia's eyes when she took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "I am asking you for mercy for my mother and sisters. Please, Myriah, come up with another punishment than death."

With uncertainty, Myriah pulled her hand from Elia's tight grip and cleared her throat. Seeing her cousin so desperate made her uncomfortable. "But I already sentenced them to death in front of my entire court. All of Dorne knows that. They'll think I only make empty threats and promises, and I can't have that." She tried to explain.

"They are your family as much as I am, and I am certain the people will understand your mercy. You can lock them away or exile them, but let them live, I beg of you. Think about Dorea and Loreza, they are still so young. How will we explain to them that their own cousin had their mother and sisters executed?"

Myriah's look fell upon Edrick, who struggled climbing off his chair. He had lost his father already, how would he feel about losing his mother someday? And Myriah didn't want to be the reason for her cousins' misery... Elia was right, they were her family, after all. "I shall reconsider my decision, but I can't make any promises." She said and Elia gave her a worried smirk. She stood up and lifted Edrick from his chair. "Now, I better get going, I don't want to keep the Dragon Queen waiting. Would you mind staying with Edrick? I don't trust his septa."

Her cousin could only nod while she said goodbye to her son, before leaving the two of them in her chamber. Ser Humfrey still waited outside to attend the meeting with her, together with two of Daenerys' Unsullied, who would escort them to their queen. They were led to the throne room, where Myriah and Daenerys had first met, and she wondered why such negotiations would be held with the Targaryen in her high seat, staring down at her. But the dark hall was empty and the armed eunuchs strode through it to disappear behind the throne. There was a hidden passage leading to another chamber. One end of it was open to the sea, and the cold breeze filled the air inside the room with the dragons carved into its walls. In the middle stood a huge table, though it was very unfit for one since the surface wasn't straight, but had furrows and ridges all over it. Myriah needed some time to realize that the table actually was a wooden map of Westeros.

"Rather impressive, isn't it," Daenerys greeted from the other end of the table, running her fingers over the engraved wood, while she slowly approached Myriah.

"Indeed." She agreed, eyes still on the table, having spotted Winterfell only a heartbeat ago. Once she noticed Daenerys standing right next to her, she swept a small curtsy. "Your Grace."

"Your Highness," The Targaryen replied with a courtly nod before she gave Humfrey a curious look. He introduced himself with a kiss on her hand.

Myriah bit her cheeks at that. She shouldn't have taken him with her.

"Now that we are all acquainted," A voice came from across the room and Tyrion Lannister appeared. "may you be so kind to explain to us why you have withdrawn your forces, Princess?"

"There is a greater cause that needs my complete attention." She explained calmly and fixed her eyes on a spot several inches above the Imp's head. The place where his eyes would be if he were of average height.

"I can assure you that the North is being dealt with," Daenerys said and she spun her head around to her. "We are currently working on a solution to settle your quarrels with the usurper Jon Snow if you vow that your son will renounce his claim as King. You shall be Wardness of the North in his name until he comes of age."

Myriah listened to her doubtful proposition, then rose a hand to interrupt her, which left the Mother of Dragons shook. "Disregarding your very... convenient plan, I believe that, as Ruling Princess of Dorne, it is my right to give my army to whoever I choose. Whatever Ellaria Sand promised you are the promises of a traitor, she doesn't speak for Dorne and she certainly does not speak for me. So, should I intend to send my men north, then frankly, it is none of your concern, your Grace."

"And that is where you are wrong." The silver-haired woman said with a grim look on her pretty face. "I am your rightful Queen and I demand of you to pledge your armies to me. Otherwise, you are no less a traitor than Ellaria Sand."

"Aye," Myriah scoffed, "rightful you may be, but you are not my Queen. Not yet, at least. And if you would only hear me out instead of accusing me of treachery, then I would have already told you my terms."

Daenerys took a few steps back and clasped her hands. Her voice was calm when she spoke again, but the look in her eyes was cold and patronizing. "Go on then, Princess."

She rose her chin. " As I have already written in my letter to you: I want Ellaria, Obara, Nymeria, and Tyene Sand. I know for a fact that they are hiding here. In return, you will get an army. Harmen Uller's and Anders Yronwood's fighting men will be at your service."

"The Yronwood's have the second greatest force in Dorne, right after House Martell." The Imp informed his Queen.

"If I may continue without interruption. This army will count at least nine thousand soldiers and knights, which I believe to be enough should you plan to take King's Landing, considering that the Tyrells and several of their bannermen are also fighting for you."

Daenerys laughed. "Are you trying to fool me? I have a continent to conquer. Nine thousand men are not nearly enough."

"You have three dragons. Why bring them if you have no use for them?"

"Right now it seems to me like I'll make use of them soon enough." She hissed.

Though her stomach turned at those words, Myriah kept a straight face. She was playing with fire, literally. "Your Grace, you can either hear me out and consider my proposal, or I will set sail for Dorne before midday." When no one spoke, she continued. "I will send Ellaria and my cousins home so that they might get the justice they deserve. In return, you will get nine thousand fighting men. My remaining bannermen will send their soldiers north because the war up there is more important than the fighting for the Iron Throne, about which people couldn't have cared less in the past years. For my people's sake, I, as Princess of Dorne, will pledge myself to your cause. Should my war be over before yours is, my people will gladly pick up their swords again for their true queen. Should it last longer, then I want you to spare Dorne for not partaking in your conquest. And that is all I have to say on that matter."

"Ellaria once promised me more than forty thousand men and the Dornish supported her back then. What makes you believe they won't do it again?" Daenerys asked with raised brows. "I have enough power to reinstate her as the head of Dorne."

"Not while I live, and should I die here under mysterious circumstances, everyone will make up their own mind about it. I am the rightful heir to Dorne, the North follows me because I birthed Robb Stark a son." She watched Humfrey next to her out of the corner of her eye, "A bigger part of the renowned House Hightower is with me and Edrick, as is the Vale of Arryn. And, of course, now that the Lannisters are at war with you and, praise the gods, Walder Frey the old scum is dead, just like the rest of his disgusting family. So the Riverlords will surely remember the Tully name, and they all saw me shedding tears at Lord Hoster's funeral. I knew Catelyn Tully-Stark and her brother, even my son has Tully blood. They'd sooner side with him, than with you."

When everyone fell silent, Myriah felt Humfrey softly pulling at the back of her skirts. Whatever that was supposed to mean she didn't know, so she simply took it as a reminder that she wasn't alone. Daenerys walked around her table again, examining it closely, but still said no word.

"So the greater part of the Seven Kingdoms still have to choose between two queens." Tyrion Lannister stated and followed Daenerys, completely ignoring the Princess and her knight.

Myriah sighed and stepped closer to them. What if the Seven Kingdoms had a third queen to choose? "Know this, Daenerys Targaryen, I have power as well. It is up to you to decide whether I am a friend or a foe." And she turned around to take her leave.

"You said the North follows you," the Dragon Queen spoke, "then how come they crowned Jon Snow their King? How come you have such an important war to fight up there?"

"If you intend to rule Westeros, then you better get to know it's people," Myriah replied, glaring over her shoulder.

"I guess we will find out soon enough. Apparently, Jon Snow has gotten on a ship that will take him here a fortnight ago." The Imp informed Daenerys, knowing that Myriah was listening.

And at these words, she stormed off, a confused Ser Humfrey at her heels.  Her footsteps echoed through the throne room, and once she had reached the hallway, she had to lean against the wall for support. Jon was on his way to Dragonstone, and she didn't know how to feel about that. She knew that Starks did not fare well in the south, so Jon had taken a greater risk coming here than she did. But she needed him now more than ever.

"Myriah?" Humfrey asked cautiously after catching up with her. "Are you alright?"

"I'm not quite sure." She said. The mask of a callow, young girl she had worn during the first conversation with Daenerys had trembled minutes ago, exposing her true self, and for that, the Targaryen had threatened to harm her twice. Afterward, she did worry about them, and what would happen should she refuse to surrender the North to the Dragon Queen, or should they find out that she needed her soldiers to fight an army of dead men.

The knight bit his lips. "You scare me. I fear your little games and half-truths will one day get you into more than just trouble." There was concern in his words, as well as in his eyes.

"So do I," Myriah confessed, placing a hand on his arm for some comfort. Their looks lingered for a second before she made her way to her chamber.

"What will you do now?" Humfrey followed her since his rooms were in the same part of the castle as hers.

"Wait." She stated, "Wait from them to come to a conclusion, wait for my husband, wait for me to make up my mind about everything I just said. I'll just wait and see."

"A wise woman you are, Myriah Martell."

She chuckled painfully at that. "I wish those words were more than a mere jest."

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After a good meal and a long nap, Myriah took Edrick to the beach, just like she used to do in Dorne. Her son loved to play in the sand and he collected everything he could find there and showed it to her. They would walk around, barefooted and holding hands, or Myriah would just watch him running away from the waves at the shore.

During those hours, Myriah often wallowed in melancholia, thinking about how her life would have been if Edrick's father had lived. Then she and Edrick would be stuck in Winterfell at the moment, where Robb wouldn't leak any bad news to her. He probably would have gotten her pregnant with another child or two. Robard and Rickard would have never been born, and Jon would have never held a child of his own. She even wondered how she would have reacted if Jon had suddenly shown up at Winterfell to visit them. There would have been nothing between them, save for the common courtesy. Neither Myriah's heart nor her conscience would have allowed her to break her vow to Robb.

Moreover, she wondered what folly had driven Jon south. She could have managed everything on his behalf, had he only written to her. Now, he had left their baby boys, which undoubtedly already suffered enough without their mother, to put himself in danger. Hopefully, Jon had come up with reasonable arguments on his long journey south. But then again, Myriah probably had some things to explain, too.

She sat on a woolen blanket she had brought with her, examining the pink seashells and round, pitch-black stones Edrick had given to her. It seemed like he had picked the most beautiful ones for his mother.

"Look, Mama," He exclaimed and ran to her, holding something between his thumb and forefinger. "A crab. Is it still alive?" Carefully, he placed the sand-colored crab in the palm of her hand. It was only the remains the dead shell, but Edrick seemed amazed by it.

"Oh, I'm afraid not. Look, some of its legs are missing."

"Oh," The boy sighed disappointed and touched one pincer with a stubby finger. "But why is it not alive anymore?"

"I don't know," Myriah admitted, making her son frown. "Maybe this little crab was very old and tired, or maybe he crawled out of the water and couldn't find its way back. A crab can't survive outside the water for too long."

"Will it live again if we put it back into the water?" Edrick asked, curiously.

"No, Love, I'm afraid it won't." That seemed to be answer enough for him. He sat down in his mother's lap, playing with the crab in his hands. The dark curls of Edrick's hair tickled Myriah's nose. During their first trip to the beach, when the warm Dornish sun had shone upon their heads, she had realized that his hair wasn't just of a black-brown color, but that it had a reddish beam to it. Her son was a walking and talking reminder of Robb, and that made her gloomy whenever she looked at him.

"Mama, is this Winterfell?" Pointing at the fortress in the distance, Edrick turned around to her.

"This is Dragonstone. The Queen Daenerys lives here, and we are her guests." Myriah answered his question, patiently.

"But where's Winterfell?" He raised his hands bewildered like he expected every castle to be at the same place.

She chuckled. "I already told you that, my Love, do you remember?"

"North," Edrick responded quickly because he had known that all along, making his mama grin widely. "And who lives there?"

"Well, you and I live there. And your baby brothers Robard and Rickard, you remember them as well, don't you?" Myriah explained as he wrapped his arms around her neck. The thought of having brothers always lightened his mood. "And there lives your Aunt Sansa and Jon... my husband."

"My father." Edrick tapped with his finger on his chest. "Jon, my father-king."

Myriah brushed her hand through his hair. Maybe it wasn't right to make him believe Jon was his father. In ten years, he would figure it all out by himself, and who knows how he will handle the truth then? Jon could still care for him like a father, and Edrick could love him like a father, but maybe it was better for him to know who his real father was. "It is not that simple, my Love. You see, you-"

But Edrick stopped her confession, by stretching out his arm towards the steps that led the way up the castle. "Who is that?"

She followed his finger and spotted a tall, slender man walking up to them. He limped a little and his shoulders twitched at every second step. It was hard to see his face since he held his head down, and he was unarmed.

Myriah stood up, with Edrick placed on her hip, spilling her seashells on the blanket, and cursed herself for not having brought a dagger with her. But he was only a few feet away from them. "Don't you come any closer!" She yelled and the man stopped immediately. Then he looked up, and Myriah glared into the sad, pale eyes of Theon Greyjoy. "Seven fucking hells."

Theon could not keep his eyes up for long. His face was worn out and bony, there was a frown where there once had been a constant smirk and his lid seemed too heavy. He said nothing.

Quickly, Myriah knelt down to gather the blanket with the seashells and stones in it. "Go. I have nothing to say to you."

For a while, he just watched her and Edrick. "Myriah," He then whispered.

"You stay away from me and my son. Or I'll have you hanged as the traitor that you are." She threatened him.

He flinched at first. "How is Sansa? You've met her, haven't you?"

She pressed her lips onto each other. "What you did for her won't ever make up for what you did to Robb." His betrayal had hit her late husband hard because Robb hadn't just lost a friend in him. "Am I your brother, now and always? And Bran and Rickon are dead because of what you did."

"I know... I know it won't, and I haven't come here to ask for your forgiveness, because what I did can never be forgiven." Theon could only speak sentences brokenly, and he started to shiver as well. "But I heard you were here and I wanted to see you...and him." He gazed at Edrick, then his lips started to shake.

"Well, now you've seen us," Myriah said coldly. He wasn't the same confident young man she had last seen at Robb's encampment, and she did pity him for that. If she wouldn't despise him so much now, she'd even cry for the boy he was back then. Both, her and Theon had no place at Winterfell growing up, and though she had never really liked him, she had always understood him. "Sansa is well enough, considering the circumstances."

Theon nodded. "And Jon? I heard he is King in the North now." His eyes fixed on Edrick again.

"Officially, yes, but only until Edrick comes of age." She told him, even though she didn't want to speak to him at all. He gave her a confused look at this. "It's not a secret, yet no one here seems to know: Jon and I got married not long ago."

"You've always liked him well." The Greyjoy replied and the corner of his lip twitched like he was about to crack a smile.

Myriah was about to ask him how he fared, but from what Sansa had told her, she could imagine what has happened to him. "You are right not to expect my forgiveness since you will never have it. We all have our regrets, some more than others, but that is a part of living. We are alive, Theon, and it's a gift that we still have time to do right." She gave him a small, encouraging nod, then walked away, leaving him alone in the sand.

He truly wasn't the Theon Greyjoy she once knew anymore, and maybe that was a good thing.

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"The Queen accepts your bargain." Tyrion Lannister had come to see her three days after their meeting.

Myriah did not intend to allow him into her chambers but Varion quickly found five soldiers to guard her. "On what terms?" She asked with squinted eyes.

The Imp smirked, "Must there always be terms and conditions?"

"I don't trust lions whispering into the ears of dragons. You're smart enough to tell your queen not to accept without condition. So don't lie to me, Dwarf."

He shot a glance at the guards, who all had a tight grip around their spears or shortswords. "You came here to treat on Dorne's behalf, I told her that much. But she knows that you can give her so much more. Daenerys wants the North as well, and whatever Jon Snow has to say in his defense, she will support your son's claim."

"Should I give her the North," Myriah added then sighed. "It's hard to rule the North, believe me, and there is nothing up there for Daenerys then a few more stubborn lords that the rest of the Seven Kingdoms sneer upon. No, as Regent, I have to put the interest of my people before mine. And my people want a Stark king."

"May I?" Tyrion asked and pointed at a flagon of wine.

"You may not." She replied sharply, pushing the wine out of his short arm's reach "Tell your Queen that I'll attend her war council on the morrow and that when Jon arrives, we will discuss all matters concerning the North. And remind her again that I've come here as Princess of Dorne."

And morning came, the days of Jon's arrival were growing closer and Myriah even more restless. A sorrow shared is a sorrow halved, he had once told her, and she had many sorrows to share with him. Soon, they'd be together again, which was about all Myriah needed to get through the tedious war council.

She was the last one to enter the room with the Painted Table, wearing a redwood colored surcoat with copper brocade over a simple, rosy-brown silk dress. Her intention was to stun the people with her appearance, though in the end, she ended up stunned when she spotted Ellaria Sand among them. Myriah decided to act like everything was going as planned and strolled over to the chair next to the traitor to sit down. "Please," She said. "Do continue."

Myriah felt Ellaria's eyes on her but chose to ignore her looks. She remembered what Elia had told her not long ago, and she remembered when she had last seen her uncle's lover. In King's Landing that had been, when she was pretending to be her daughter, and Ellaria did treat her like one.

She was kind to me back then, Myriah thought, but then she murdered my father and brother.

While Theon's sister Yara spoke, she still weighed the good and the bad about leaving her cousin's mother alive. And when Ellaria and Tyrion fought, she chose not to interfere even though the Queen gave her a demanding look.

"That's enough." Daenerys ended the dispute. "Lord Tyrion is the Hand of the Queen. You will treat him with respect." Then she took a deep breath. "I am not here to be Queen of the Ashes."

Her statement surprised Myriah, but she kept her mouth shut and her face under control, especially when old Olenna Tyrell went on about her beloved granddaughter. She said not a word when the Imp explained his plan, she had no need to since Lady Olenna took the words right out of her mouth. Laying siege to King's Landing and capturing Casterly Rock wasn't that bad of a strategy, but Myriah preferred the Greyjoy's plan anyway.

"Do I have your support?" The Queen asked.

Yara was the first to answer, promising her the Iron Fleet, then Lady Olenna nodded, agreeing. Myriah's eyes wandered over the carved table top. Should this go sideways, she hoped Lords Uller and Yronwood would learn their lesson to not doubt their Princess' decision. "My armies are with you, your Grace."

"Thank you all." With that, Daenerys dismissed them.

As expected, Ellaria followed Myriah to the throne room, where she stopped to confront her. "What are you scheming now?" The woman asked, bitter. "First you declare to have me executed, break all promises to the Queen, and now you rally behind her and send me home, with my head still between my shoulders."

Myriah gave her a tired smile. "After the deaths of my father and brother, the regency of Dorne went over to me. You never had the right to treat with Daenerys without my consent, Ellaria, and you will do as you are told if you intend to keep your head."

"And what is it you're telling me to do, Princess?"

"It's simple. The Greyjoys will take you to Sunspear, where you will take command over your father's and Anders Yronwoods armies, which will lay siege to King's Landing together with the Tyrells. Should you prove yourself as a loyal servant to your Princess and a good commander, you may be pardoned." She explained to her, leaving the out the part where Tyene, Obara, and Nymeria would be taken captive by Ser Manfrey and get sent to Ghaston Grey, Dorne's prison island.

Ellaria only straightened her back, hiding her astonishment by Myriah's change of mind.

"You've murdered the Prince of Dorne and his heir, which happened to be my very own father and brother." Myriah suddenly began to shake. "I will never find it in my heart to forgive your crime, nor will I forget it. But for my cousins' sake, I've reconsidered my decision because I know what it means to grow up without your father and mother. Do not fail me, or you shall feel very sorry about it. For I am not the only one who wants you dead."

And Ellaria opened her mouth to respond, but Myriah only walked away. She had nothing more to say to this traitor. With a smirk of success on her lips, she returned to her chamber. If it wasn't for Jon, her ghastly business on this island would be done by now.

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The Iron Fleet had left Dragonstone's harbor days ago, and her little trip seemed much more enjoyable without the presence of turncloaks and backstabbers. Myriah often invited her cousin and Ser Humfrey for supper, or they'd take walks around the island together with Edrick, trying to make the time until Jon's arrival pass faster.

On this particular day, Myriah found herself in Dragonstone's training yard, where Elia taught Humfrey's squire Layton how to fight with a spear, whilst the knight entertained Edrick with two wooden swords. It was a great surprise to find the yard empty for once, so they took the chance.

When Myriah put away her knitting needles and wool, to take a break from this tiring pastime, she couldn't help but smile once she noticed that the wood in her son's hands appeared like a heavy longsword, whereas in Humfrey's hand, it seemed no bigger than a dagger.

"I am Ser Gerold Hightower!" Edrick exclaimed and delivered a loose blow on his opponent's blade.

"You little pup as the White Bull?" Humfrey chuckled, allowing him to smack his arm with the wooden sword. "You'll have to strike harder than that. Come on, I know you can do it."

"Careful, my friend." Myriah interfered, "Or you'll end up with more bruises than your nephew."

And Layton, the poor lad, could only send a helpless glance at his master before Elia swung the spear in his direction.

Hurried steps echoed from the hallway into their direction, and shortly after, Varion stepped onto the training yard. He tried to catch his breath while bowing to his queen. "Your Grace." Making a break, he gasped for some fresh air. "Forgive me, your Grace, but his Grace has arrived a while ago."

His words made the hair on her arms stand up. "Jon," Myriah whispered, trying to adjust what she had just heard. Her husband, her love, was finally here after she had longed for him for what felt like an eternity. All those nights and days were she needed him, his comfort and his company, were over now. "Where is he?" She asked eagerly, like a little girl that was about to get a new gown.

"He is meeting the Targaryen as we speak," Varion told her, and she rushed past him so quickly that she could barely hear his: "In the Throne Room."

Myriah ran through the corridors and would only slow down once she noticed the guards outside the hall. Helplessly, she tried to fix her hair and dress, until the two Dothraki allowed her in.

And there he stood. Even the sight of his back could make her heart beat faster, with his broad shoulders, uncombed hair, and his rather ill-fitting leather armor. And he was all her's.

Myriah's joy vanished quickly when she saw Daenerys Targaryen not sitting on her throne like she did when she had greeted her, but standing only a few feet away from Jon. Carefully, she approached the small group and stepped between Jon and Tyrion Lannister.

"Why was I not called upon the second he arrived?" She asked offended. But it was hard for her to grow angry, or even pretended to do so, with Jon staring at her. It was torture for her not to look into his stunning dark eyes, and even worse to look away once she did. Jon's lips moved like he wanted to whisper something that was only meant for her ears but no words escaped his mouth.

"We believed it to be wiser that way," Daenerys answered, watching Jon closely.

Myriah grit her teeth. "Did I not tell you to get to know the people you intend to rule over? You're all deaf and blind, even the Spider at your side, your Grace."

Her husband carefully curled his fingers around her wrist, gently stroking the palm of her hand. His touch felt so warm and familiar, and that made her feel utterly comfortable. "Myriah." Jon breathed quietly, still staring at her.

Hesitantly, she took his hand between hers, slightly leaning her head towards him. And everyone seemed to understand what was going on between the two of them. Daenerys' blank expression froze and Tyrion only stared at the ground with a crooked smile, while Ser Davos took a bow to greet his queen.

"We shall take our leave now," Myriah stated quickly, then led Jon out of the throne room into the hallway, not expecting a reply. They hurried away, in direction of her chamber, until Jon pulled her arm back to make her stop.

"Myriah." He said again softly, cupping her cheek. "A small part of me had hoped you were safe in Dorne. Though most of me wanted to find you right here."

She pulled him close, wrapping her arms around his neck so her fingers could play with his thick dark curls. Their foreheads touched first, then the tip of their noses. "I should have taken you with me all along. I missed you, Jon, so very badly."  And she needed him even more.

He gave her a long and eager kiss, paired with a strong embrace that made her lose the ground beneath her feet and slip into his arms. Then Jon gave her a smirk. "Well, I am here now. And that's all that matters."

"I missed you." She repeated as her fingers now brushed through his beard and traced along the scar on his left eye. He chuckled and kissed her again, first on the lips, then he placed several pecks on her neck, making her giggle like a maiden.

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Guess who's back and better than ever!

So, let me clarify that Myriah, as a Dornish, does not like the Tyrells or the Lannisters very much, meaning she has a pretty low opinion of them. And she's a jealous wife, obviously. But Myriah and Jon finally are back together! YAY!

And did you guys like my portrayal of Dany, Tyrion, etc.? Or was too unlike them?

If you enjoyed reading the new chapter let me know by leaving a vote or a comment.

See y'all next time!