snow and stars| jon snow

xxvi: martells

Jon, Arya, Sansa, Gendry, Ser Davos, and Andromeda all walked in step together to see Camorra Martell, the usurper of the Crown of Dorne. He was in the cells, which were, for the most part, always empty in Ilta. He was the only occupant when they got there.

"Are you sure you can handle this?" Jon asked Andromeda, not exactly excited for her to see her annulled husband or the man who had attempted on her life more than once. He was a dangerous man, a fighter from Dorne. Of course, Jon has his sword and Andromeda had her spear and Arya had nearly everything on her, but he was still worried about the man and how unpredictable he could be.

"Very sure." Was all she said as they stopped at the door, her in the front and waiting for the singular guard to unlock the door for them. She tapped her foot impatiently, ready to shove it up Camorra Martell's ass and give him a piece of her mind after that. The door swung open after the man fiddled with the keys for a while, and she was the first to step in.

    Camorra Martell looked mentally insane. He was crawled up in one corner of the room with his knees tucked up to his chest, just staring at them before a smile creeped up to his face, a smile that would have made Sansa shiver if she was years younger. This wasn't like the fake, conniving smile of Cersei Lannister, nor was it the smile of a purely evil man such as Ramsay Bolton. It was a smile that was similar to Petyr Baelish. It was the smile of a man who hadn't showed his full hand yet.

   "Cousin," He said, his voice hoarse as he stood up wobbly. His eerie smile stayed. "Or, wife." Jon's hand tightened around his sword.

   "Don't be ridiculous." Andromeda said, keeping her distance, and her spear head up. "That was annulled many of years ago."

   "Annulments can't happen." He decided that it was wise to stay a little further from her than he would have liked to be, but he also enjoyed taunting from a distance.

   "They can," her voice was calm, civil. There was nothing in her voice that could ever suggest that she had an ounce of hate in her heart for the man, and that was most impressive. "And if they can't, then I died and came back. I died and the marriage ended."

    "But I am still the rightful King of Ilta." He said, his grin beginning to drop a bit.

    "You're the rightful king of nothing," she responded. "Not even Dorne." He took a step that was meant to be threatening towards her, but that was immediately thwarted when Jon brandished his weapon and Arya followed immediately after.

    "Dorne is my kingdom."

"No," she would have laughed if the man didn't seem so distraught by the news. "If anything, Dorne is mine."

   His eyes widened so far in anger that it would have frightened her if she didn't have Jon by her side. "Little girl," he snarled, still not daring to step to her. "Dorne is under the Martells, and I am a Martell."

   "A very distant Martell." Her voice didn't waver. "Sure, you have the name. But I am royalty on both sides of my tree, fool. I am the daughter of the youngest Prince of Dorne, the last of his children or any known children of any of the Princes, which makes me the rightful ruler of Dorne."

  "Dorne is mine, you-"

"I never said I wanted Dorne." She said honestly. "Dorne turned their back on me, and it can go all to hell now that everyone that I care about from there is gone."

   "You won't take Dorne from me." His eyes were wild and bloodshot, his hair was unkempt, his clothes were dirty and torn, and he stank of must and dirt. He was no longer a Prince, and he was reduced to something much less. She could've smiled.