A/N: Hey guys, here is my first ever ASOIAF fanfic, where I am SI-ed into Dorne as a minor Lord along the Greenblood River. I've read good fics like 'Dread our Wrath' and 'Deeds, not Words' and have been wanting to make an ASOIAF SI for some time now, and decided to start with Dorne.

I admit that I've been rather undecided for a while whether or not to go with the North or Dorne, given that they both are severely understrength and lacking in economic development compared to the other Westerosi Kingdoms (the former more than the latter), but since I've ready read quite a few North-centric fics and hardly saw Dornish ones, I decided to give Dorne a try.

I'm not very familiar with ASOIAF lore, so I might be needing clarification on some things I'm unsure on. Anyway, let's get started!

Edit: Made some changes regarding House Rada's history, dialogue and a few minor mistakes I overlooked.

The Master of Dorne

Chapter I: Lord of Ifiría

1st POV:

I honestly didn't expect to be somewhere else after I died of a heart attack in my sixties. When I say that, I mean being in somewhere other than Heaven or in some black, endless void. I wasn't a very religious person myself, but I did believe in the existence of an afterlife.

No, I instead found myself staring at a ceiling of chiselled stone, smoothened and artfully crafted with predominantly Arabian-looking architecture – the curves and arches inherited from Greek architecture clear to me – and the comely, compassionate face of a woman as she lifts me with suspiciously strong arms.

Wait, since when was I so light? I remember weighing a hundred kilos at my heaviest!

"Congratulations, Lord Azaz," Said the woman, "Your wife has given birth to a healthy baby boy."

Hold on, what?

"Indeed, he's a very healthy and strong boy," Said a deep-voiced man, rumbling like a mountain, "He'll grow up to be a fine noble of Dorne."

Dorne… wait, that Dorne, like from Game of Thrones and A Song of Ice and Fire? That very same Dorne?

Whatever other thoughts crossed my mind were briefly forgotten as I came face-to-face with my 'father', and he was the very definition of a grizzled war veteran.

Strong, chiselled features, weather-beaten skin from years of travel and tanning under a hot desert sun, and a few thin, long scars running along the right side of his face, marring his features like pockmarks. His brown skin, bright brown eyes and silky black hair revealed an otherwise handsome man, kindly yet stern.

"Hm… you remind me of a man I used to know – a brave Knight of Dorne and House Rada," Said Azaz, "He never talked much, but was always strong of mind and spirit, never hesitating to fight for his beliefs with word or sword. Askari was his name. Yes… Askari, that shall be your name."

I honestly couldn't believe it; I was literally living a cliché in countless isekai stories I read online, whether it was rinse-and-repeat trends in manga or in manhwas.

I was reincarnated into the world of ASOIAF, into a house of Dorne – one suspiciously Arabic-sounding – as a newborn babe. For better or worse, this was my new life now.

IIOII

In all honesty, childhood as a medieval noble was, for lack of a better word, boring.

Back on earth, children had plenty of entertainment options outside of kindergarten, school and conversation; games, toys, television, playgrounds and so on. Here, there isn't much of that, as atypical of a less technologically-advanced civilisation.

Wooden blocks, toy knights, stuffed dolls and other things were my mainstay entertainment, as is conversation with my family and what friends I made, and the servants (those I felt willing to talk to). Furthermore, I quickly found myself missing the modern conveniences of two wondrous things I could never do without. No, make that three.

Powdered milo, instant coffee and instant noodles.

Yes, I love instant noodles so much I can't go one week without eating it at least once, and though I've accepted I'm not getting any here in Westeros, especially since we don't have freeze-drying tech for soup stock, I'm still sour over this.

Yes, I know it's irrational, but come on man, let a man dream.

Anyway, classes for noblemen were more like private tuition, and I was taught my letters and how to speak the Dornish and Rhoynish languages not by a Maester, as was the standard for other Westerosi nobles. No, I was taught by one of my Rhoynish-blooded servants, a woman named Saida.

She's kind, unassuming and otherwise generic in a sea of faces, but nonetheless beautiful and motherly, and according to my dad, took up the path of a poet after retiring from a life among the Sand Snakes. No wonder she was strong and athletic.

And she's the one who taught me how to fight with a spear. I don't know much about the nobles of Westeros, but I do know that from Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand, the Dornish nobility don't mind fighting with a spear, just as they don't mind using daggers and poison to win in a fight. After all, honour matters little to obtaining results.

She was rather snarky and a little arrogant, liking to taunt me here and there, but it's all just jesting to me and a tactic against her enemies, and we became fast friends. My father Azaz would teach me in the art of Water-dancing, and using a scimitar was, I found, more difficult than using the spear.

The spear, as a polearm, was easier to train with as I only learned forward-thrusting and swinging motions. With the scimitar as a more versatile weapon, there were more attack or defending motions, and that meant a lot more training and practicing said motions.

I admit though, there were plenty of times I procrastinated and wanted to just plop down onto a nice comfy bed or couch and just sleep, but I couldn't.

First off all, like I said earlier, entertainment options were very limited and there was no garbage internet to waste time on. Secondly, outside of studying with books and training, I had very little to do until I was fully capable of taking the reigns of government.

And honestly, having that kind of responsibility also scared me. And I know that I will have to eventually marry and continue the lineage.

Now I admit, I'm more a sucker for loving marriages, but I don't know anything about actually dating anyone, and I don't know if any woman I date will be willing to take the kind of responsibilities I have to take up, outside the nobility I mean.

That means settling for an arranged marriage.

Okay, my long-winded grandmother story aside, there's quite a few things I've learned about our fiefdom of Ifiría and House Rada – with the city of Arsalm or Swordport as our provincial capital.

For one, we're one of very few fiefdoms that make a living off farming and animal husbandry, due to our proximity to the Greenblood River as a steady source of clean water. For two, we are one of very few Rhoynish-blooded houses that stay true to our culture and practice Rhoynish in direct defiance of Princess Meria Martell's edict that effectively banned its practice.

As a house founded since the days of Nymeria's flight to Dorne, we have a standing seven hundred years of ancient history, and as such we commanded great prestige and power thanks to the actions of our ancestors, and ruled as suzerains of three provinces south of us once upon a time.

I emphasize this, because there was once a civil war between House Rada and its vassals that utterly devastated our house and rendered our vassals extinct, and other houses have since taken over. It took us a long time to get back on track, and though the provinces south are more or less Rhoynish like us, they don't pay homage since we're not their suzerains.

Honestly, I admit that from reading up on Elia Martell's tragic fate in Game of Thrones and on Dorne's predicament, I do have a bit of a soft spot, but like every other nation it has its flaws.

For one, the Dornish are fanatically independent, and while to others it may seem like a good thing when brutal tyrants are involved, it's an entirely different thing when maintaining stability is concerned. They have a history of bad blood with their neighbours not least due to their raiding, and it's no wonder people don't like them remaining independent and wreaking havoc on their lands. Also, a rather cruel reality is that like the North, Dorne is very sparsely populated even when compared to the other Six Kingdoms, and therefore cannot offer much in the way of arable land for farming.

Even then, I find it weird that a land like Westeros is so sparsely populated, with a population of only five to six million for the Stormlands, and even less for Dorne – maybe one to two million.

I'm not sure if I'm getting my numbers correct, but that'd be the population levels of medieval Europe in total with far lesser landmass.

And from the words of my father Azaz, I know he has a very low opinion of House Martell for such edicts and other things, and I suspect it also stems on a personal level. I broached the topic with him a few times, but he just clammed up and refused to talk about it, so I relented. Never was the type to push things if they didn't want to.

Some SI's would like to think that just discovering new tech and introducing things like gunpowder would let them brute force their way through, but that's just an idealistic fantasy, not with the insidiously indispensable thing called politics. Unless you had a cheat system that made you invulnerable and everyone unable to betray you, that was impossible.

Next is that relating to my earlier point, House Rada has a very stable and strong economic and political foundation, which allows it to sustain a large population and military. My father Azaz is a tiger in battle, but not that great in politics or administration. However, if I were to really secure myself, I'd need to not only get more allies for myself, but also net real talent that can help me implement some reforms I have planned.

That, and though we're relatively prestigious, as stated above we don't as many allies as we once had, and effectively no vassals either. We needed both vassal houses and allies within Dorne if we're going to survive here.

Thirdly, establishing a stable logistics structure. We're providing more than enough to feed ourselves, but in the arid desert where water sources are scarce, failure to provide clean drinking water and food can be a death sentence, especially when large armies are concerned, and this is Westeros – a land where war is started over the most trivial of things.

And finally, perhaps the most important thing to note, is that because of our proximity to the Greenblood River, we are in contact range of the Orphans of the Greenblood, the last surviving Water Wizards of Rhoyne that survived persecution by both the Valyrians and the Andals.

Now this is a possible big grab for me, not least because Water Wizards helped create a lot of the rivers in Dorne to help irrigate the eastern parts, but for some reason they're now little more than reclusive hermits. If I'm to eventually help bring prosperity to all of Dorne, I absolutely need their help to irrigate the western parts and expand the Greenblood River, so we can colonise and control more of Dorne's landscape.

But these Greenblood Orphans dislike any form of courts, Rhoynish or not. Convincing them will be a hard grab.

Anyway, before grand dreams come grassroot foundations, and that's going to be my focus. Best to take things one step at a time.

IIOII

3rd POV:
Azaz Rada

When Azaz was blessed with his firstborn son by the grace of Mother Rhoyne, he was gladdened by the prospect of him growing up into a fine lord and heir to his newfound house.

As he grew up, he turned into a rather strong and tall boy, and some say he was on his way to becoming a great Knight and Lord of great stature.

As his son Askari grew up, however, he soon found that he had a very… quirky personality.

Though capable of talking normally with others, he was often quite shy and anti-social, mostly keeping to himself or familiar company. He was also quite lazy and loved to procrastinate on his studies and training at times, such that he or his wife Aisha often had to drag him to doing his tasks.

He also had the very terrible habit of talking to himself on all manner of things, even acting out his own miniature fantasies in private. Mercifully, he was very conscious of his surroundings as well and always minded his words, and was otherwise a sweet boy to talk to.

He was very kind and compassionate, and what he struggled to express in words he did so through action. He would not hesitate to help his friends and family when he needed to, despite the occasional complaint.

Alas, what he gained in stature he was sometimes lacking in astuteness.

He made terrible mistakes a man with common sense would not at times, and though mostly not meant to do harm, did land him in quite a bit of trouble at times, and at times made a fool of himself in conversation. Granted it was among close friends, but still.

And yet he could not help but worry; as he was approaching his 8th Nameday, he knew that he could not shield and protect the young boy forever and that he must prepare for the eventual succession as the next Lord of House Rada.

"Habibi (My Love), is something bothering you?"

Even now, at the age of twenty-five and having given birth to eight children, his wife Aisha was as beautiful as always. Creamy brown skin with no blemishes and imperfections, strong brown eyes and a slender matronly figure that seemingly showed no inch of visible fat, she was as beautiful as the day they married at the age of eighteen. Dressed in conservative Rhoynish silks that accentuated her feminine beauty (not those showy Dornish dresses), she was a stalwart noblewoman that belied her sharp and witty nature as befitting a serpent of Dorne.

"It's nothing, Aisha," Said Azaz, "No worries."

"Habibi, you're clearly bothered by something," Said Aisha, "You hide it rather poorly, you know."

Azaz sighed at his wife's insightfulness, and said, "It's regarding Askari."

"Ah, our dear boy," Said Aisha, "Yes, I can see why you're worried, but have some faith in him. At least, give him the benefit of doubt."

"But Westeros isn't a very kind place to live in," Said Azaz, "I worry that by no fault of his, House Rada may…"

"Habibi, listen to me," Said Aisha sternly, "Stop overly worrying over these tiny little things. Learn to trust in your children, learn to take things in stride. Understand me?"

Azaz merely laughed, saying, "I sometimes wish I had your confidence."

And Aisha hugged him.

"You are the warrior, I am the politician," Said Aisha, "Don't worry."

Azaz sighed, hugging Aisha back.

IIOII

10 BC
10 years before Aegon's Conquest

Now, at eight years old, I was to start acclimatizing myself to the environment of politics in the provincial capital of Arsalm, and damn I was nervous. I couldn't stop my hands twitching, my eyes darting around or my uneasy expression slowly forming on my face.

I felt a comforting pat on my shoulder, and I see the face of my father Azaz reassuring me.

"First-timers in court are usually like this, don't worry," He said, "But you will have to attend many more public setting like this as you grow up."

I simply nod at him, and as he introduced me to various friends and acquaintances I simply nod and smile and shake their hands. Some don't shake my hand, others look at me like I'm a fish out of water.

Honestly, looking at the other women dressed in such flashy, scanty dresses just made it so damn tempting to ask them for *ahem* their company… if you catch my drift.

Then I almost forgot I was just an eight-year-old boy and not an adolescent teenager, and forcibly banish these dirty thoughts from my mind.

Other than that though, I mostly keep to myself outside of these interactions, absentmindedly sipping water or taking snacks as I watch my surroundings. I see a lot of hushed whispers, some boys boasting of their imaginary feats to girls, and mostly old men talking to old men, yadda yadda yadda.

Yeah, a lot of it's just noise to my ears, so I mostly tune it out as I fade into the background.

Well, if not for this one man that caught my eye.

At first glance, he looked like a rather harmless and unassuming individual, youthful and high-spirited to a fault, smiling as he talked with all sorts of people tirelessly with that consistent politeness. And what caught my attention more were the robes he were dressed in.

Unless my eyes are playing tricks on me, he was wearing a Hanfu – traditional clothing for Chinese – a long robe with wide sleeves instead of Rhoynish silks or other regular Dornish clothing. Dressed in a mixture of aqua and white, in his hands was a paper fan with intricate paintings of geese and lotuses and a string of Chinese letters.

I would approach him, but I felt that if I were to do so while so many were watching right now, I'd be in the spotlight, and I don't really want that right now.

And yet, as fate would have it, he just strolled to where I was, leaning on the same pillar and smiling to myself.

"So, you've been watching me for a while. Am I really that interesting to you?"

I almost jumped in fright, and I soon realise that Chinese man is looking at me. I simply focus on my cup of water and keep my eyes to the front.

"You're sticking out a lot here, Mister," I said.

He merely chuckled softly, saying, "The way you watched me was far different from 'Here is a foreigner dressed in strange clothing'."

I absentmindedly scratch my head, saying, "I thought I was being inconspicuous."

"Well, you were for the most part," Said the Chinese man, "Anyway, I am Huang Xue, courtesy name Shuren. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Askari Rada, the pleasure's all mine," I said, shaking his hand.

"Ah, Lord Azaz's eldest son," Said Huang Xue, "You're a lot more quiet than I thought."

"Yeah, I know," I said, "I take it you've known my father for a while?"

"Indeed, Master Askari," Said Huang Xue, "I'm a merchant from Yi-Ti, and I've come in search of lucrative trade deals. Your family's lands produce many exotic spices and olives that are high in demand in some port cities back home, and I've had the pleasure of acquainting myself with your father."

"He must have been a good host, for you to speak so fondly of him," I said.

"Aye, and I especially love the teas he offered," Said Huang Xue.

I smile at that, saying, "He can be very generous to his guests. What do you usually discuss with my father, though?"

"Oh, he likes to regale me with tales of his battles, and in return I regale him with tales of our great generals, who fight with brute force and finesse in equal measure," Said Huang Xue, "Though as more a scholar than a warrior, I am more amenable to talk on astrology, strategy and literature."

"I'd like to chat with you on that," I said, "Talking only about battles can get boring after a while. If you don't mind, might we find time to chat whenever you visit?"

"Oh? Pardon me, but I thought you would say 'I can invite you if you'd like'?" Said Huang Xue.

"Well… let's just say that'd be skipping too many steps in making a friendship," I said.

This time Huang Xue laughed softly in good humour, as if amused by something.

"Oh my goodness, you are a really peculiar boy," Said Huang Xue, "Tell you what, I'm staying in Dorne for a while, and I might pop by again for a visit. If you'd like, you can invite me so we can get to know each other better. Would that be alright with you, Lord Askari?"

"I'm not a Lord yet, but I'd like that," I said.

"Excellent," Said Huang Xue, who then looked out the window to see a fading sunset, "Oh dear, I'm afraid I've overstayed my welcome here. I must be on my way."

"Go on, then," I said, "Take care."

"May we meet again, Young Master," Said Huang Xue, hands clasped and rising high and lowering as he bowed slightly.

A/N: Let me know what you guys think.