A/N:
Rose Kingdom, 280AC.
Oberyn was setting in a chair while reading one of the books he was Provided as a means to occupy himself while he waited for the King to meet with him, he was told that the delay was due to the coming winter and the preparations that entailed, after he had told them of his name and princely status, he was given a lavishly furnished apartment, a fur and feathered bed, bookshelves with books, and even his own tub that was drained and refilled every night with two beautiful women to wash him, at first he found it ridiculous and redundant to bathe on a daily basis, as it was enough to bathe once a week. That however wasn't the only thing curious in this Kingdom.
His apartment was three stories high and he had a barred window through which to see the fortress, when first he arrived, the rain was so strong and the wind so swift, he feared some of the houses would be destroyed, peasant houses were often constructed with whatever they could gather, branches were wedged and whittled together then mud would be piled on to keep the cold from escaping. but the houses of this Kingdom were made of thicker and harder, massive wooden beams were clearly jotting out from them and cut stones lined the base of each house, keeping water from reaching them. When the weather turned colder, hundreds of men wrapped in thick tunics and mittens cleared the ice from the roads and roofs, and smallfolk would then go about their business.
He had been told by the women who washed him, that the fortress was divided by three walls, the outer curtain wall was the longest and most fortified of the three, its outer perimeter was peppered with three rows of hedgehogs, its walls were cover tip to toe with wooden spikes and a ten-foot deep, thirty-foot wide moat filled with black sand was spread out from the base. if any army got past the hedgehogs, they'd be swallowed by the sand. It protected the farms, training barracks, distilleries and mills, noncitizens, laborers, and legionnaires in training who lived there.
The second wall was the most heavily armed, boasting twenty trebuchets, three hundred bolt throwers of varying design, and patrolled daily and nightly by the city guards, it protected the houses of the First citizens, the learning halls, the shops and the weapon factories when Oberyn expressed his disapproval of segregating people by their status the women corrected him, the living conditions of within the first and second walls were the same, the difference between the two was that the First citizen were the original inhabitants of the fortress when it was built and the first to proclaim Eddard as their King, so he had rewarded them generously.
The third and last wall of the Kingdom was the least defended and protected the King's residence, as well as those of the Hand of the King, The Fist of the King, and Work Boss. at the very center of the whole fortress, burned bellowed the great forge that sent a constant ploom of smoke into the sky, the original forge had been enforced and expanded to accommodate the growing army's need for arms and armor, it now occupied all of the original longhouses of the first fortress.
Oberyn was pulled from his thoughts by a knock on the door, a beat later it was opened revealing a tall figure "The King will see you now" he says, as Oberyn exited his room he saw that the man was not alone.
Morning had arrived when Oberyn was promptly escorted from his room, but you wouldn't know from the state of it, the skies were filled with storm clouds that spewed lightning and thunder near constantly, the rain that battered the Fortress was slowly being replaced with snow, every inch of the Kingdom now had a thin sheet of white, luckily Oberyn was led through one of the many roofed and walled walkways that connected the numerous buildings to each other keeping the cold from biting deeper, but still he was fighting the urge to shiver as that would be seen as weakness.
"Your Kingdom is very beautiful" Oberyn said, trying to break the silence. He and the ten heavily armored soldiers who were escorting him were passing a courtyard full of red rose bushes. "Does your king indulge in gardening as much as conquests?"
"No questions!" The 'Lead' soldier said roughly, he was a tall black man that towered a full foot above Oberyn, he could till he was superior to the rest of them by his armor, it was adorned with two boars facing and roaring at each other on his chest plate, while the equally tall soldiers that followed him only had thorned roses. their armor was unlike any Oberyn had ever seen anywhere else, instead of plate armor and chainmail, they wore steel bands that wrapped around their torso and over their shoulder, scale mail ran down their sleeves to spike knuckled gauntlets, below their waists hung thick leather skirts studded with scale mail while shin guards completed the set.
But the most menacing feature of his escorts were the war axes they carried, as with their armor, their axes were also unusual. instead of the wide flat-edged pole axes of Westeros or short bearded axes favored by the Ironborne, there's were similar to a woodcutter's axe, except they were as thick as a man's fist at the back end and as wide as a man's open hand at the edge, sneaking a glance. Oberyn could make out a single word carved vertically into the back of the axe head, "WAR".
Oberyn said nothing back, if these men were like the slaver he met in the fighting pits, he would have fired back with a witty and biting remark, except these men were not slavers, they were soldiers, slavers were fat and slow, all they ever did all day was whip slave or fighter into obedience, they were heavily scarred and tattooed which made them all the more intimidating, but, they were never truly trained to fight anything more than bawling women and broken men, training costs money, and so did hiring more slavers, so most gained weight to look menacing, and covered themselves with tattoos and scars. it was all for show, Oberyn knew it at the start.
The men escorting him now were different, they marched and moved in perfect unison, which meant they were trained, before Oberyn was summoned to the King, he had tried to strike a conversation with the soldiers, but none spared him the slightest attention, normally people would raise an eyebrow when they heard his accent or glimpsed his attire, but these men gave nothing away, which meant they were disciplined, and finally, they had a look about them.
The Martel prince had traveled from his home at Sunspear to the squalid cesspool of Slaver's bay, there he witnessed the different looks on people's faces, from the hollow half-open eyes of pleasure slaves, the frantic lips and fidgeting eyes of condemned criminals and desperate denizens, to the gleaming smiles and gleeful eyes of the masters.
He had also seen the look that the soldiers escorting him had, the same look he saw on the maesters at the Citadel and Sunspear when they were reading or writing, a type of comfortable focus, as if he, the red viper of Dorne, was no threat.
"Gied!, [you cheater!]" a child shouts to the left of Oberyn, he stops to peer through a window and sees a group of children playing in the snow, seemingly unaffected by the cold, [you're only supposed to use your feet!] the same child says something Oberyn didn't understand, it being another language and being drowned out by the storm itself, the children seemed to be kicking a wicker ball over a net stretched across the center of a snow-covered ground.
"Keep Moving" one of the soldiers behind him said, Oberyn smirks and winks at the stern-faced soldier, often it would incite hostility, or (on rare cases) hospitality, but not this time, the soldier gestures with his scarred chin for Oberyn to move on, showing the soldier was unflustered by Oberyn's antics, when Oberyn started walking again, he's surprised to note that the soldiers beside and in front of him were at the same distance as they were before Oberyn stopped, this meant that they reacted instantly to Oberyn's sudden change of movement, which added to Oberyn's assumptions of them. They neared a massive circular cob building, with streams of pitch-black smoke coming out blackened chimineas that were fashioned to look like wolf heads.
Outside, the deafening sounds of lightning and thunder still filled the air, but within the building, it was being drowned out by another, louder sounds. The unmistakable ringing of thousands of hammers hitting thousands of anvils, thousands of voices chanting in unison, stone and steel scraping against each other, the sound of thousands of fires roaring in the unseen places.
But all Oberyn could see was a narrow hallway of beaten earth hemmed in by stone platforms elevated two feet off the ground, countless closed sliding doors built into cob walls on each side, leading to an open door, the earthen path was only wide enough for five men walking side by side.
They reached the open door and entered, it leads to a massive hall, similarly as large as the throne room of the Red Keep but it was not empty, rows of bookshelves lined the floor space and walls, each stood taller than Oberyn's spear, but instead of books they were filled with odd tools and trinkets of varying sizes, hay and straw were stuffed in between each item and each had a piece of parchment placed in a recess in the wood, "3rd-23t" one read.
Oberyn was so focused on the items on the shelves that he was slightly spooked when the soldiers all suddenly stopped, straightened their backs, stomped their feet twice, and raised their right open-hands at the only other occupant in the room, the man raised his open hand at them with less theatrics but with a similarly straight posture, the soldiers dropped their hands and lined up at the end of each 'bookshelf' while one stayed to close the door, the sound of the weather and the men at work were instantly muffled by the door, which surprised Oberyn, but he didn't show it.
"Good morning" the young man said with a pleasant voice and a warm smile. His long black hair was tied behind him, his cleanly shaven face was slightly gaunt and his blue eyes seemed to gleam on his pale face. He wore a thin blue tunic embroidered with little blue roses along the sleeve, a leather belt on the waist, and black boots "I am Eddard, King to the Kingdom of the Rose" behind him was a table of wine and various foods.
When the words reached Oberyn's ear his eyes widened and his jaw slacked, a silence fell between them as Oberyn regained his composure.
"I am Prince Oberyn Martel of Dorne" Oberyn finally said with a bow, a gesture he noticed that was frequently used by the people of this Kingdom. "Forgive me, but You're not what I thought you'd be"
"Hhmmm" Eddard hummed while rounding the table and seating himself, he then gestures for Oberyn to the same "please"
"Thank you" Oberyn seats himself
"What did you think I would, Prince Oberyn?" Eddard asked, wondering what opinions had the prince formed about him. He poured a clear liquid into two glasses and handed one over to Oberyn, "what have you heard about this place?"
"Taller, older, a great villain leading an army of metal men, or so they say" Oberyn began, a smile played on his face as he recounted his now-debunked delusions "I was in Pentosh when I first heard about you"
"What were you doing in Pentosh, if I may ask?" Eddard took a sip from his glass keeping eye contact with Oberyn.
"I was there with the Golden Company, we were to intimidate the Dothraki that regularly visited the city once or twice a year, it was a simple job, puff out our chests and bare our teeth, let them know their would-be price for raiding and raping" Oberyn answered, crossing his legs and speaking softly to give off a relaxed demeanor "that was where I heard the rumors, a new Kingdom was growing and gathering in the west"
"At first I paid it no mind, the older sellswords told me that kingdoms come and go in Essos like winter does in Westeros" Oberyn continued his speech, Eddard all the while kept his features soft yet solemn, "yet year after year we hear more and more people speak of the Kingdom of the Rose, first it was from Braavosi merchants, saying that someone was buying every ounce of Iron they could, then the Dothraki who come to Pentosh say that they had come across abandoned villages along the western Border of the Dothraki sea"
"They say it's a cursed path, that the border is now being patrolled by flower-men" Oberyn Inficises the word Flower-men as if describing an alien thing "that they butcher, burn and bury any who cross their path, so they may trap their souls in the earth"
Eddard didn't react to Oberyn's pantomime, it was common knowledge that the Dothraki widely practice cremation as a means of honoring their dead, funeral pyres were expensive, the amount of wood or burning material needed to fully immolate a body was staggering, the fire needed to be so great that nothing would be left even bones, the Dothraki believe that if you still had a piece of yourself remaining in the world that you could not enter the afterlife, so those who could afford to be disposed of in this way commanded great respect among their people, and those who couldn't were seen as weak or cowardly for not being able to harbor and horde enough loot or love for his comrades to mourn him properly.
"And what of me, Prince Oberyn?" Eddard wondered.
"Some say you are a Demon" Oberyn answered, he takes a cocky sip from the glass, only to nearly choke and cough as the liquid burns its way down his throat, stinging his nostril and watering his eyes, if the King saw his reaction, he had the decency not to mock him for it.
"I see" Eddard says to draw attention away from the Martel prince's reaction to Vodka, there was no rice to make Saki, but as with the cow and pig bones, they had an abundance of potato peelings "so you've come offering yourself and your spear to a demon?"
"Yes, I believe I would be of great use to you" he answered, after regaining his composure.
"A prince of the great house of Martell, third in line for the seat of Sunspear and all its powers and privileges" Eddard calmly speaks, gesturing his hand at Oberyn as if to show his (metaphorical) position "yet, he comes to me alone and offers me his… spear?"
"My spear has greatness all on its own" Oberyn answers smoothly, smirking at the young king, the effects of the drink dissipated as quickly as it had come "perhaps you'd like a demonstration?"
"A spear, however great, isn't what I need" Eddard takes another sip "nor another great warrior"
"I've never been defeated in the fighting pits" Oberyn speaks confidently "nor have I ever faltered in battle, I have all my teeth and no injury, I speak Dothraki, Roynish, low and high Valerian, and I have never dishonored myself with slavery, or anyone with rape" Oberyn finished by smirking again.
"Prince Oberyn" Eddard said as he finished his drink, he straightened himself, looked directly into Oberyn's eyes, and with a clear calm voice he asked, "what have I done to deserve such disrespect?"
"I beg your pardon?" Oberyn asked, taken aback by the King's words
"I welcomed you into my Kingdom with all that you and your station is due, gave you food and drink to fill your belly, pleasurable company to fill your time" Eddard said, Oberyn still wore a mask of confusion while Eddard continued "yet, for all my efforts you set there and insult me to my face"
"I have done no such thing-"
"I hosted a Prince, and I expected a prince's favor" Eddard said, cutting Oberyn off, "yet, here I am offered a peasant's… spear"
The guards from behind Oberyn stride forward, making the floorboards wreck with their heavy boots, but Obyren dares not make a sudden move. "I am no peasant" Obyren countered
"We are done here" Eddard said with a sigh in his voice, then stood from the table and commanded "give him food and water, then send him out from the fortress, do him no harm"
"WAIT!" Oberyn attempted to stand, only to be held down by a heavy hand on his shoulder, Oberyn looked up and saw the leader of his escorts looking down upon him with disdain.
"Go home, Prince Oberyn, should you wish to offer me a Prince's favor, feel free to return" Eddard said as he made his way to the door, "the rules of hospitality prevented me from doing you harm while you are within my domain, but if you harm any of my citizens you forfeit that protection"
Oberyn was lifted off the seat and dragged away, with only the heavy feel of his escort's hands and the sight of Eddard's receding back as answers to his pleas and protests.
A/N: there will be a huge time skip, for the next chapter.