The Last Sand Snake of Dorne (Game of Thrones Fanfic)

Chapter 3: The Dragonglass

Rhoy slept fully, snoring loudly in his bunk bed near hers. Brandy Brian had let him stay with her, just being cautious he told her. Despite his loud snores, Gwyen could hear the waves gently lapping against the wooden walls of Sweet Lady, her heart thrumming along with its rhythm. She tossed and turned; she couldn't sleep. Was it Rhoy's snores, she didn't know.

Finally, she kicked off the samite covers of her bed, pulled up her breeches and boots and a loose silk shirt, and quietly slipped out of the bunk. The sea breeze blew into her face, cool and inviting. Gwyen silently stole to the ladder and gripped the rungs tightly and began to climb.

The deck was silent, save for a few lanterns lit. One cast a dim light, creating misshappened shadows over the wooden floor.

"Child should not be out this late," a silky voice came from her right.

Gwyen whirled around to see Tyr Sataryn inspecting his nails underneath a swaying lantern.

"I--I can't sleep," she stuttered and began to descend down the ladder once more. Tyr clucked his teeth and beckoned her closer.

Up close, Gwyen could see he was still young, a three-and-thirty, with golden-brown curls tucked in a string behind his back. His hazel eyes glittered with amusement, his dimples still showing as he took away his silly grin. But he looked older than his age was; there was an air of authority about him, but at the same time of calm. He must have been wearing a hood when they ate, and he was a good deal away from her before.

"What made you not sleep?" he asked as he rolled a smaller barrel for her to sit on.

Gwyen opened her mouth, and closed it again. She couldn't say that she wanted to go home to Sunspear, nor the fact that she wanted to know who killed her family. She still winced at the word.

"Would the snake princess want a story?" They locked eyes, Gwyen looking at him suspiciously. He waved his hand. "Tyr Satarys knows. Tyr Satarys would not tell. Now, I repeat, does snake princess want a story?"

She nodded. She was still a child after all. Tyr reached into his collar and brought out a necklace strung with different kinds of coins. Some were silver, gold, copper, made of dull metal or steel. They clinked together softly, some were fat, thin, looking heavy and as light as a feather. Tyr picked out one, a coin that glimmered darkly in the glow of the lantern swinging above their heads. 

But it wasn't a coin. 

Tyr let the blood trickle down the dragonglass shard and smiled at her. "Do you know this, child? Have you heard its story?" 

Story? Gwyen frowned at the little black shard. Dragonglass was called obsidian from the maesters, dragonglass through the freefolk. The Children of the Forest knew how to make them, though they were gone twelve thousand years ago. "It was used in the Battle for the Dawn," she said, remembering her lessons. "The Children and the First Men rallied together, to fight off the Others. Then the men of the Night's Watch built the Wall to keep them out with the help of a great hero."

To her surprise, Tyr laughed. When he looked back at her, he saw her scowling at him. Instead he tweaked her nose. "That is what they tell you, yes? Ah, ah, but that is just a grain of the real truth." He deftly released the shard from its string and handed it to Gwyen. 

She thought it had been jagged, pierced and chipped, but Gwyen stared at the small carvings around its ridges. Tyr's blood had somehow made themselves illuminate through the black, and she was careful not to wipe it away case the letters will fade. But no matter how hard she tried, she could not read what it said.

"Nissa Nissa was a very beautiful woman, born from the ashes of a great weirwood tree," Tyr said softly, as if his voice would ruin the gentle lapping of the waves. "It was said that she was as white as the tree, with hair as red as blood, her eyes like diamonds. And that Azor Ahai had been just a child when he saw her, along with her father, a greenseer of the Children. Nissa Nissa was only a child herself, but she was borne in a time when Azor Ahai's ancestors still ran wild with bright yellow metal. Her father had agreed to their marriage, but with a heavy heart. She was his only child. But, yes, the Others were coming. It was said that her father had filled her with dragonglass and fire, melted together before her wedding."

The image of Nissa Nissa shattered as Gwyen uttered a yelp as the shard took flame, and dropped it in her haste. She opened her mouth to protest against the dirty trick, but Tyr was looking at the flaming shard, transfixed. The flame didn't set the floor on fire, and burned a ghostly blue. 

"Lightbringer, Azor Ahai had called that blade, yes? And the essence of blade was Nissa Nissa's father's last gift to both of them as he passed away. The blade did not burn him. No."

Tyr plucked the burning  shard and held it between his fingers, and held it out to Gwyen. 

She stared at it, disbelieving. Disbelieving everything Tyr told her, every word his lips had uttered. But the shard burned in between the meat of his fingers the same blue glow a fire would make when it was too close the ashes. And Tyr did not show any kind of pain, just held it like you would do with a stone. 

Then he wrapped his fingers around it, and the flame guttered out. The lanterns swung lazily to the waves, and everything grew dim as Gwyen took herself back to her, her thoughts returning to her own from the Wall and the sword, and from Nissa Nissa and Azor Ahai. She blinked, the Braavosi putting the shard back with his necklace of coins. 

"Now run along, sand snake. Snake princess. You have lessons tomorrow."

She did as she was told, and when she returned to the captain's cabin, she curled up in the sheets, ignoring Rhoy's snoring as she slowly held the obsidian shard her aunt had given her.