A/N: OMG AFTER LITERAL YEARS WITHOUT PUBLISHING (or it feels like years) I'M FINALLY BACK. SCHOOL WAS KICKING MY ASS SO I COULDN'T SPARE ANY TIME TO WRITE ANYTHING. BUT SUMMER IS HERE AND IT'S HIGH TIME I GO BACK TO WRITING.

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS SORT OF INSPIRED BY A LOCAL TELENOVELA, NO SHAME LMAO. I DON'T OWN ANYTHING EXCEPT MY BRAINCHILD BABIES AND THIS PLOT I'VE YET TO CONTINUE DEVELOPING.

Amara I

DORNE

The day was bleak. Absolutely bleak. Training all day with same people. She could almost copy how they fought.

"Losing your touch, Amara?" The girl opposite of her taunted, backing her up against the wall with a spear right up her throat.

"Please, Tyene, the only reason you'd ever win over me is through distraction." There would be little point to fight further, so Amara yielded. Tyene took offense to this, glaring at her, but putting down the spear.

"You lost and you still taunt me?" Tyene's voice was on edge, as if the littlest push could make her scream.

"You win today, that's a fact." Amara declared, pausing a little to collect her thoughts. "And it's also a fact that I'm rather bored. I need something new, Tyene. Give me that, will you?"

Something in Tyene snapped and she grabbed a dagger from her side to throw toward Amara.

Amara quickly dodged, choosing instead to fight Tyene hand-to-hand. Tyene didn't resist, instead going on the defensive as Amara went for every blow she could manage. She managed to get one to Tyene's abdomen, letting the girl crumple, hissing in pain.

As she approached Tyene to finish her off, Tyene straddled her, turning the spar into her favor. Tyene went offensive this time. Amara blocked nearly every blow until Tyene got a hold of both her wrists, putting them above her head as Tyene's other hand continued to punch her. Amara landed another blow to Tyene's middle, using her knee. The immense pain was enough for Tyene to release her hold on Amara's wrists and to get off of Amara.

"I win." Amara smirked.

Supper with the Dornish always happened to be eventful. This time, a rather lowly servant had interrupted it to call for the princes.

"Prince Doran! The guards had been killed!" He cried, at this revelation, Doran looked puzzled. Who would attack at the dead of night? And for what reason?

"Take Oberyn with you, he'll know what to do." Doran instructed. Oberyn followed the guards, and Amara followed him. She'd go anywhere with him. She owed him that much.

Once they reached the scene, a hand grabbed Amara. "It was you! You killed them!" He hissed, the accusation had taken her aback.

"I don't understand. I was with the Martells all throughtout supper." Amara explained calmly.

"She looked like you—" The guard struggled to breathe, the wound at his side bleeding profusely. Amara helped him up.

"Take him to the maester, Amara." Oberyn ordered, as he continued to mull over the fact that the guard had mentioned that the killer looked like Amara. How could it be when she was with them all supper?

"My prince! We caught the trespassers!" Another guard announced as his companions dragged a thrashing young woman and a man.

"Thank you. Take them to the dungeons. I will speak with them at once." Oberyn did not take kindly to trespassers. They will be dealt with swiftly.

Oberyn first came to Amara, to see the guard that had been nearly killed in the confrontation.

"Tell me about what happened." She said.

"There was a man and woman, the woman looked like you, and she was very good with the spear. The man was quick, he killed three guards, he nearly killed me, had he stabbed me fully." The guard looked better now, after being treated by the maester. Oberyn continued to observe for a little until he made his presence known.

"My prince." Amara nodded.

"The trespassers have been caught. Come, Amara. Let's see what the fuss is about." He beckoned her to him and they left the maester and the guard. They walked together in silence. Amara was nervous, although unsure of why she would be.

Oberyn took a torch with them as they navigated through the dark cells. They're usually empty, since Dornishmen aren't very patient.

The guard with them led them in front of a dark cell. Oberyn brought his torch forward only to be startled.

The woman in front of him does resemble Amara greatly, the dark hair, the grey eyes. The very picture of the woman beside him.

"I'm Ashara," she drawled, her voice sweet as honey. "I've come here to find my sister. I apologize for the ruckus, truly." She smiled, eyes glinting by the firelight.

"Who's that with you?" Amara snapped. She sized up her copy, looking at her with curiosity and rage.

"My companion of course." Ashara gave a rather useless explanation. Oberyn studied his features, black shoulder-length hair, green eyes. A lean figure, from what he could gather.

"Why did you kill my guards?" Oberyn almost burnt the woman's face had she not backed away.

"It's rather simple, Prince Oberyn," she whispered. In her hand was a bloodied letter, bearing the seal of a house she knew little about. Ashara, the woman in the cell handed the letter to prince Oberyn.

"Read it, Amara." He commanded. Amara took the letter from his hand and read aloud.

"I, Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm hereby legitimize my three bastard children with Blysse of House Black.

From this day until their last days, they are Alysara Baratheon, Amara Baratheon, and Ashara Baratheon, daughters of King Robert Baratheon I, Protector of the Realm."

Amara's mind took a while to understand the letter. Too shocked to respond, she wet mute. Oberyn looked at the cell once more, his eyes wandering for signs of the other bastard girl.

"Where is the other one?" He hissed. Ashara smiled at him cheekily, as if enjoying his anger. What a sadist.

"She's went off on her own, I'm afraid." Her tone was mocking. Amara could tell.

"Who gave you this letter?" Amara was shaking. Robert Baratheon was the current king of Westeros. She didn't want this.

"It's quite a long story," her new sister said, "I wouldn't want to bore you now, would I, dear sister?"

Amara perked up. She would get her answers one way or the other.

"Prince Oberyn, would you stay?" Amara asked the man. He nodded, anger marring his rather warm features.

"There should be a very good reason for your visit, lady Ashara." His tone was rather cold, but his eyes told Amara another story. They were full of fury and fire.

And as Ashara recounted the story of how she came to arrive in Dorne, her companion, the man was long forgotten.

A/N: I'm really scared but thrilled to be posting this, seeing as I haven't written anything in months. It's also my first time writing GoT fanfic so I apologize if some things seem off or anything. Constructive criticism is absolutely welcome, so feel free to review.