*The following chapter was written by reader sensfan90. Thank you sensfan90, for adding to this little world!

(The Shadow City, Dorne : 298AC) Asha III(by sensfan90)

The town under the walls of Sunspear was always beautiful in late summer. The heat had dissipated just enough for the people to enjoy long full days in the sun, the waters of the Greenblood keeping the air cool enough to truly enjoy it. The terrace she chosen to rendezvous in also gave them a rather stunning set of flowing tapestries to appreciate. Baelor and Botley seemed to be enjoying it all at the very least, her mind was focused elsewhere.

"Still reading the textbook Lady Greyjoy?" Baelor to his eternal credit read the book once and knew exactly what she found interesting but even he did not grasp it fully like she did. Not surprising, revolution was an anti-thesis to the religion of the Seven.

"My n'uncle taught me to know my allies and enemies as I know myself. What a mother teaches to their son and daughter can tell me quite a bit indeed." It had taken quite a bit of gold and favors to sneak this particular piece from the Scorching Bear Academy but it was worth it. If she had any doubt that Lord Stark was unaware of what was truly being taught in his land she did now. For a tool to teach basic numbers and letters it was remarkably subversive if not outright treasonous in its prose. A part of her wanted to see a Drowned Man read it and cry blasphemy, well the ones that could actually read at any rate. And of course that was the other thing, subtly or not the Fire Nation was not nearly as similar to Westeros in government as some believed. The smallfolk had remarkably more power than she would ever have guessed, though this was balanced out by the Firelord having a near total monopoly on dividing force and administration. No wonder she seemed to be a shepherd of an ever growing flock, you would find no better place for a peasant than Dragonstone. Well at least as long as she considered you part of her flock.

"I see the squids have made themselves at home." Closing the book she turned her full attentions toward her guests. Obara Sand, a muscled and mannish woman who favored her fathers Rhyonar blood. Tyene Sand, a blond haired and blues eyed picture of innocence who favored her fathers loved of poison and foul potion. Behind her was the young woman she came for, Princess Arianne and the future leader of Dorne. Clad in flowing orange and yellow silks set scandalously loose and wearing a flowery perfume which she could smell from across the room, the short but full figured Martell confidently approached. Ringlets of thick black hair and piercing eyes focused on her companions, pity for her Baelor had spent too much time in Oldtown as a hostage to trust a Dornishwoman and Botley never made it a secret of whom he had a fondness for once she became blooded. Sex and desire was not going to win her any battles in this room.

"Do you like the tapestries Lady Greyjoy, the seamstress is a personal favorite of House Martell. So many great battles and victories spun so elegantly." As Tyene continued to wax poetic and threaten her over the art the Princess casually seated herself close to the door. The Sand Snakes never allowing a clear angle of advance on their trueborn cousin. It seemed the Princess was more than silks and perfumes after all. She carefully had chosen where they would meet, how many guards to bring and she was perfectly aware the entrance to their little alcove was an inescapable ambush if she chose to run for reinforcements. It was impossible to say whether it was her idea or that of her more bloodthirsty cousins but the end result was the same. In Westeros being intelligent and being wise enough to listen to the intelligent thoughts of others was a necessary trait for survival. Her Uncle Victorian was pretty much the prime example of how far stupidity and lack of foresight could go when you had capable consul. Either way the heiress to Dorne had earned a point in her favor already.

"Lady Asha Greyjoy, what an unexpected pleasure."

"Princess Arianne Martell, the pleasure is all mine. I am sure you are curious as to why I contacted you in private."

"Indeed I was, how is one supposed to react when the Lady of Pyke speaks in shadows and whispers. It raises all sorts of delightful ideas and questions."

"Scandalous ones cousin, should we not inform the king?"

"Or perhaps feed her to the butcher." She ignored the subtle threats of Obara and Tyene Sand with hardly a glance. For all their faith in the teachings and blood of their father she gathered neither had even a quarter of her experience in truly lethal combat. Besides her business was far more important than wiping the smug grins off their half born faces.

"Several moons ago I sailed the Sunset Sea into the Bay of Ice, it was a startling change to see."

"You speak of Lyanna's Bay I take it? The great harbor the King has seen to building in the frozen North in honor of his lost love? Or is the interesting words of a revitalized Bear Island?" Despite the flippant tone Arianne had obviously understood what she meant, good no need to circle the point.

"Bear Island is slowly turning into a fortress and the lands of Sea Dragon Point are already a snowy maze of stone and steel. Despite thousands of years of existence preceding it I can confidently say it already has a fiercer surrounding than any strip of land in the Iron Islands. I can only imagine what Lady Azula has done with the already considerable features of Dragonstone. Three Iron Vessels patrol its waters with a fourth rumored to be ready."

"Ah squid we snakes fear no stags freezing in the North."

"Besides was not the land granted to Lord Xie, now of House Mormont because your family was overly treacherous? House Martell is at peace with his grace, why ever would we be in terror of its well-deserved construction?"

"Obara, Tyene do not be rude. Asha Greyjoy does not speak without merit." Smirking impishly at their dismissal it was obvious the two Sands were not as versed in Dornish politics as they believed. Four ships meant the Butcher could strike the Daynes, Blackmonts, Ullers, Martells and Yronwoods simultaneously. Or perhaps the Wyls, Gargalen and Tolands to in order to isolate House Martell from Red Mountain families. Most of the towns and villages may be beyond the Butchers raiders but not the river fed crops and precious supplies of fish. Far from a minor blow to their armies in battle it was disastrous for their ability to take even the field. A desert kingdom was a double edged sword, what fresh water land you had must be protected at all cost.

"Tell me Lady Greyjoy, have actually fought against these new designs? The Marchers Lords claim it was largely out of surprise and dishonorable tactics but the sailors I have met claim it was cold and brutal slaughter."

"I sailed with my father when the rebellion broke out. We never left Pyke so I did not see the fight firsthand. Still in the beginning we did not believe the ravens, the entire Iron Fleet eradicated at Seagard? But then the survivors limped back into the Iron Islands and it was no deception. Hulls which split battle tested ships with ease, speed which made outrunning them impossible. Part of me still thought it all a grand tale to hide incompetence and cowardice until my uncles and brothers never returned in the week's afterword."

"Your weakness, not ours. The Dornish are not the Ironborn, we have never been conquered." Rolling her eyes she stared at Obara Sand, wondering how much the bastard really understood of the world. Was she as deadly as she claimed or was she merely a whore's daughter whose father fed her delusions of grandeur to cover up his own lack of restraint?

"History suggests otherwise or do you considered a summer of occupation a minor setback? Daeron brought you low and you won by assassination and trickery. Do you know the number of battles within the history books that speak of Dornish victory and staking land beyond the Red Mountains? Zero, you won against Daeron because the tenets of chivalry prevented the wholesale slaughter of your smallfolk in your rebellion. Oh and falling ass backwards into Baelor the Blessed being a peace loving nut. From what we know of the Butcher you will not have the chance a second time, or at all if the Reach and Stormlands remind her of it every time they can. You claim fifty thousand spears but when has anyone beyond a book ever seen such a thing?" Truly she did not know the full power of Dorne but reading her n'uncles many books had been rather enlightening in their overestimation of its power. King Ferris Fowler was said to have launched ten thousand of his own men against Highgarden but simple math of the Starks, Lannisters and Baratheons revealed such a claim as impossible alone. The Vulture King had thirty thousand and Daeron said fifty, almost as if the Maesters and scribes of Oldtown and the south exaggerated in order to make themselves greater in the eyes of their families.

"And yet you come to us, with salt and bread in your hands. Tell me Asha what does that say of the Ironborn? Are you so weak you must seek friends with someone you claim as far lesser than the world knows?" She tried to hide it in flippant and coy remarks but the Princess of Dorne understood the heart of the matter it seemed.

"Obviously to form an alliance. What do you know of the Narrow Sea during the past two decades, the bulk of your life if my numbers are right?"

"I was seven when House Targayren fell, the Narrow Sea was the very heart of loyalty to the Dragons. Now it is so very different, old friends of my father and uncle no longer speak or if they do of vastly different things. Driftmark has slowly risen to a level of power now seen since the Dance and the number of smallfolk seeking a new future within the land is worrisome. Its warriors have become the very heart of song, Steffon of the Silver Tongue and the delightfully ironic Theon Piratesbane. Depending on how the wind blows my father may even suggest a betrothal." She supposed the look of desire over her brother should have gotten a greater reaction from her but Theon was nothing but a boy and brat in her memories. Besides more and more she believed any future for her in the Iron Islands rested on Theon being focused elsewhere.

"Great Houses I am sure they are under consideration. But then fathers and uncles can only be trusted so far to understand the needs of women. Somethings a lady just understands things that a lord can simply not." Eyebrow raising Arianne took the hint and signaled for her cousins to leave her, her own guards responding in kind. Grabbing a hand mirror to vainly check her appearance in the meantime it was obvious to them both she was simply ensuring they were alone.

"I have a simple question then Asha Greyjoy, why did you contact me and not my father? I am merely the Princess and heir apparent, my father still rules."

"There is one thing I did not tell you cousins, or your guards. Azula Baratheon is building armies in the North and Narrow Sea, armies with only a single purpose."

"I find that hard to believe, smallfolk are known to exaggerate and nobles imply outrageous threats all the time for glory, land and coin. There is no way the Butcher of Shipbreaker's Bay could call two hosts to arms and leave no one the wiser."

"You think of armies as spears and shields, I speak of armies as logistics, craftsman and deckhands. Have any Dornishmen seen fit to attend the Dragonstone or Scorching Bear Academy?"

"My cousin Sarella spoke of attending once at supper a few moons past but none to my knowledge, I did not even know there was such a thing in the North."

"Then you're blind to a grave threat or a great opportunity depending on what side you believe you are on. They teach not of The Seven Pointed Star, the words of Oldtown or the baneful tales of the Old and Drowned Gods. They speak of the Firelord and her one nation, of the glory of its existence and of their integral future in its glory. They speak of the Fire Nation as one great host under one sovereign even as they spin in loyalty to the Iron Throne. She already has the ships, soon she will have her army and only numbers keep her vision from coming true. War is coming Prince Arianne Nymeros-Martell and I need allies I can sail and stand beside with trust when the time comes." For a moment the Princess stilled before her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Civil War? You think Prince Joffrey will come to blows with his cousin?"

"Perhaps not like that exactly, I assume like the Blackfyres a pretext or perhaps a truth will come to light to make House Baratheon of King's Landing unfit. The Firelord and her ilk have been too patient and too careful to force such an obvious ploy without some way to turn loyal houses to their cause. However I know of a few who will side against her if only out of spite."

"You believe the Reach will side with the Lannisters?" Not surprising she grasped that straw, Reacher politics largely defined what House Martell did. Even before Nymeria claimed the land as a single domain the Dornish Marches were a constantly shifting battleground of knights and brigands between the Gardeners, Durrandons and a dozen petty kings.

"House Tyrell and Redwyne without question, perhaps the Hightowers as well if the Maesters deign to realize how far the Butcher plans to educate. Doubtless a few more houses will rise if only salvage their wounded pride over the rebellion. I hazard to claim the entire Reach but enough for it to truly matter." The Princess placed her hands in her lap and seemed to gaze at her with a newfound intensity, one she hoped to find when she made the decisions to move forward with her plans. She chose Arianne because like her own father they had been left wanting in their own futures. Prince Doran was infamously cautious and even Uncle Rodrik warned her the man was no coward even if he spoke appeasement and peace. Before coming to terms with her place as a Greyjoy and there future in Westeros she would have missed the obvious but it was plain as the sun giving way to the moon now. The Dornish had a plan for revenge against the Lannisters and to an extent Robert Baratheon. It was simply a matter of when Doran and in all likelihood her Uncle planned to unleash it. Arianne, a woman looking for a future in the world like herself may not wish to be chained by the memories of her aunt as her brothers had become.

"Let us assume that such a battle breaks out and lines are drawn in the Seven Kingdoms. How would you expect us to work together? Snakes and Squids make quite the odd pair do they not?"

"A pair no one will see coming and will allow room to maneuver when the time comes. Should we back the Lion Stag the Stormlands and Narrow are ours to take. In the case of the Flaming Stag it leaves the Marches, Shields and Whispering Sound. I am not so foolhardy as to steer us into harsh seas, I prefer to keep my options open."

"Assurances would need to be made." Eyes twinkling, the snake had definitely found prey it found tempting.

"You have two brothers do you not?"

"Quentyn and Trystane, I assume one would be for yourself?" A wide smile formed as all pretenses of hypotheticals and half promises disappeared.

"Aye, they are of high enough birth my father would need a good reason to deny. Especially as I know it is one my mother and a few of our more discontented bannermen will support."

"He could say no."

Shrugging at the possibility she pushed forward. "He could wake up dead tomorrow, my father is not a young man and his people are not the mad sycophants he had before the rebellion. They say in the game of thrones you win or you die, it is the truth. My father's dreams died many years ago and with it his spirit. If he casually dismisses a potential alliance of such scale he best have a viable alternative or his banners call him senile. At which point my brother would have full rights to remove him." Over his dead body in reality but she hazarded a guess the Butcher was ready and willing for that particularly eventuality for her brother.

"Does he even have alternatives?"

"In the Iron Islands a few but the raise the possibly of someone claiming rulership of Pyke over Theon, assuming the Iron Throne saw fit to recognized such an act. My father ever prideful would balk at such a thing regardless. The Tullys, Starks and Lannisters are out for obvious reason and I somehow doubt he would keep his mouth shut at a Baratheon. I suppose I could live with the Vale of Arryn, though if ravens be true my left thumb has more muscle than all of Robert Arryn has in his entire body."

"It does fit in quite nicely does it not? I am intrigued Lady Greyjoy and see the truth of your words. However my father while immobile with the gout still rules with a deep and firm hand. I cannot guarantee anything but I can swear by the Old Gods and the New your words will reach his ears. More importantly it will only be spoken of in the strictest confidence." Slowly she rose from her chair and waited for the Princess to do the same. As a sign of trust Arianne stuck out her hand only to be confused when she pressed the book into her hand.

"I gather your father and uncle will need more than the word of a single Ironborn to do anything. This Princess is all the proof you need. Greater than any spy, soldier or maester, these pages reveal what the Butcher truly is."

"And what is she then? A monster to her enemies or a savior to a lost people?" For a moment she stopped as Arianne raised a good point. Was House Nymeros-Martell not founded on a women doing everything necessary to save her people? Was she fearing an empire when it was simply a new kingdom she feared? Or was the Princess clouded by her own blood and history to appreciate what was coming?

"I wish you good fortune in the war's to come Princess, because one will soon be upon us."