A/N:

Phew, sorry guys. I'm still writing this believe it or not. I've had some issues with time, and then when I had time, I realized there were A LOT of ways I could take this and I didn't know the best one. I still don't know, but it's what I picked so oh well.

Anyway, thanks to all my wonderful readers! It's amazing how much support I get for this little fic, and truly appreciate all of it :) Special thanks to my reviewers (breaking 200! I can hardly believe it!):

TomHardyGirl6489 (Sucks, doesn't it? I thought that goes well with the theme of GoT. ALL THAT WORK FOR NOTHING), LolaStark (Oof. Hope you haven't checked everyday! That's a lot of days, and I apologize. And there will be more Robb. A lot more in the near future if I go with my current gameplan!), DamonSalvatorelover (The exact reaction I wanted), annoyance (I actually have a reasonable answer...I hope. Age differences in ASOIAF are commonly drastic, especially when it comes to younger girls and older men. But the real, plot-driven reason is that making Cassana any older would make it super weird in the mythos for her to not be married. And I'm not about to change his age for any reason. Hope that makes sense!), Brokenangel1753 (Sorry this isn't soon. I will try to be faster!), SpeckyBeckyy (I'm glad you like the re-reading and don't find it annoying or overly complicated! And yes. I don't disagree, but I can't guarantee! Ha, rhyming.), Lady Syndra (Hope you don't mind it isn't so late, and thanks!), OrangeStiglitz (And that's all I want to hear, haha, no but really, thanks so much!), Thecompanionthatneverwas (That's a big compliment! Thanks! And I hope it continues to be that good!), Guest (I am! Sorry for the delay D:), aorangeinboston (Thanks! It's always good to hear that I'm not making a terrible OC, especially because I usually hate them so much and I'm trying so hard to not make her terrible. Phew, what a relief. And I'm so, so happy you taker her flip-flopping as realistic as opposed to unrealistic. Decisions (especially like that) are HARD), Guest (Thank you! That's a real honor since there are so many talented authors :) :D), and starrysky7 (Thank you! I will try to update at a faster pace!).

Real life eats time. Sigh. I will continue to write so please do not worry, and thank you all for being patient!

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire.

She remembered when her brother was crowned, they had all received circlets. Robert's was the grandest—thick horns that twisted into a ring of hard gold. Stannis never touched his, and Renly's was pretty, thin, and gold. Hers was simple though she never chose to wear it. She remembered the first time she had it placed on her head, the metal digging into the raw skin of her scalp. It was heavy. The weight pushing down on her skull made her uncomfortable, and she had never wanted to wear a crown again.

Her head ached from whatever had hit her. It was hard to open her eyes—so hard that Cassana decided not to, to let them stay closed a little longer as she tried to move her body on the stone floor. I can't. I can't do it. She tried to turn again but found that her body wouldn't obey. Gods, I'm paralyzed. The Seven. Fuck. I can't move.

But she did. She urged her body more and more and felt her arms lift up. Her legs shifted from under her, back wriggling as she tried to hug her knees, still flat on the ground. It hurts. Everything hurt. Her head. Her back. Her arms. Everything felt like it had been hammered down hundreds of times, beat and driven to the ground until her nerves were practically numb. The salted blood was dry in her mouth. She spat it out, but it landed on her chin. "Robb?"

The memories were starting to flow back. Cass wiped the spit from her face and opened her eyes. The cell was almost as dark. "Robb…Are you alive?"
She felt tears, but they didn't come. It would be too painful to cry right now.

"Gods…" she coughed. Her throat was dry too. She hadn't been drinking. Slowly, Cass edged her body up and leaned against the wall of her black cell. She let her head drop back and licked her lips. "My head." She felt the large, burning bruise on the back and thought of who had hit her. Was it Ser Loras? Some unknown knight? Cersei herself?

A gold cloak came eventually and slid a bowl underneath the bars to her cell. The water was dirty, brown and with floaters, and Cass thought about not drinking it. She thought of dehydrating herself, dying here before letting Cersei have the satisfaction of killing her publicly. And give up now? How many times have you escaped death before? She survived the Red Wedding as it was called. She survived traveling around Westeros with several wanted men. Cass crawled to the bowl and drank. "Thank you, ser."

The gold cloak seemed stunned by her words—either not expecting any or not expecting them to be as nice as they were. "…It's cleaner than most, Lady Cassana."

She sat up a bit at her title. Her clothes were ripped, her face covered with dirt and her own blood. She was lying in a cell, surrounded by other people's shit, and still this man called her 'lady'? Cass set the bowl down. "I'm assuming the Queen Regent has seen to my…" She looked around. "Current position."

The gold cloak nodded slowly, "Yes, my lady, and Mace Tyrell."

Bastard. She had been set up this whole time, hadn't she? "For releasing a traitor?"

"Yes…but mostly for killing a king, my lady."

Her face became cold. Cass flexed her fingers, nervous, terrified. She had known it had happened, but hearing the words fall so easily from the gold cloaks lips gave it a new reality. The hollow coughs rang through her head, that and the rhythm of constant drums. And the bells. She thought she heard them in her nightmares. The bells were ringing outside. "…Joffrey is dead."

"My lady?"

"My nephew…they're saying I killed him? Can I speak to Ser Jaime? Please, ser. Can you bring Ser Jaime here? I need to…I need to talk to him immediately." She was starting to panic. Cold sweat was curving down her neck and those tears before were starting to fall, despite the pain. "Please."

The gold cloak said nothing in response and left her. Cass slid back to the floor.

Her eyes stared at the bowl of water, watching the flies sway and move with the soft echoes of footsteps. The liquid rushed up and down, teasing to breach the rim with each approaching step. She thought of ships then—of the sea. She thought of the Windproud and how that damned fool survived and not her parents. The Stranger does not care about alliances and titles. Cass had never known her father or mother. Two of her brothers lay dead and buried, and here she was, rotting.

"Lady Cassana?"

Her father was a good lord—a great one. The stag wasn't crowned then, but people respected his house. They respected her house, but now she was a joke. I will die here. She blinked and watched another fly fall in, its wings becoming soaked and heavy with water until it was fumbling to survive. The lions will kill me before the day is out.

"Cass?"

She flinched and looked to her cell, not seeing anyone there initially. Her eyes adjusted downwards until she saw Tyrion Lannister, cloaked in red, standing on the other side of the bars. "…Hello, Tyrion."

"You realize you're on the floor, do you not, sister?"

She laughed at the words. Her abdomen hurt and she wanted to retch. "Don't you dare call me sister."

Tyrion took his hands off the bars. "It was not me who condemned you to this hell."

"No. Your real sister did. Do not try to calm me with words and titles that mean nothing, Tyrion."

"And do not act like I am the one to kill you. I am your friend, Cassana. I might be your only one left."

She bit her lip at that. He's right. Cass held her body firm against the wall. "Is Robb Stark alive?"

"Yes."

The word made her exhale and her shoulders fall. Cass swallowed. "For how long?"

"Days and not much more. You need to be tried first."

Tried? "You're joking."

"A trial is customary, and with our nephew dead, no one is demanding your head that quickly. Well perhaps my real sister is, but even Cersei can't scream that loud."

She held her voice firm. "I didn't kill him."

"No?" Tyrion smiled at her. "Are you sure? If it were me, I would take credit for it. You had every reason to want him dead. Your brother is fighting for his crown."

She shook her head and wiped the blood from her face. "No, my brother cannot rule. He…he burned the gods, Tyrion. He is never out of the Red Woman's sight. His rule would tear apart this kingdom with fire and death."

Tyrion held the bars again. His fingers tapped on the metal. "And what about your rule?"

Cass stiffened, shoulders straightening. She had heard that suggestion far too much for her liking, and once again she thought of her gold circlet. "I don't want a crown."

"The crown is a part of your sigil. The right is in your blood."

No. The right was in the blood we spilt. "You shouldn't speak of these things, my lord. You do not want to wind up here with me."

"What's the difference? It's only a matter of time before my sister gets sick of me."

Cass attempted to stand, holding on to the stone wall for balance as her feet gained ground from under her. "Why are you here, Tyrion?"

"You asked for my brother but he wouldn't come. You'll have to settle for me. I know most women would mind, but I think in this case, I'm the better Lannister."

She stumbled. Her hands scraped against the stone she was holding on to. "Jaime wouldn't come?"

Tyrion shook his head. "Did you want me to give my brother a message?"

"Yes." Tell him to rot. Tell him he broke his promise, that he's an oathbreaker and I wouldn't have been here if I didn't free him from that damn cell. He's the one that's supposed to be dead. Cass couldn't form those words. Dead...I'm going to die here. "'I love you'. Tell him that for me. If you could be so kind."

She seemed to have caused the dwarf to be speechless—quite a feat if she knew Tyrion right. Tyrion grabbed a roll from his cloak and tossed it through the bars. "He wanted me to give you that."

In the dark, time didn't seem to pass normally. Cass sat in silence as the other prisoners wailed and banged on their cells. Robb? She listened to the sounds, trying to decipher the mess of noise. Robb are you even here?

And where were Sansa and Lady Catelyn? Had they escaped when she had failed? She prayed they did. She prayed they were on their way North, that if some good came out of this, she was glad it would be that. Tyrion would have known. You were foolish to not ask about them.

She did not bother to ask the guards any further and waste the minimal water they gave her. It was so dirty—the food always wet and molded, green pus growing where nothing else could. Her eyes started to adjust to the dark. The cracks in the old stone became visible, as did the rats and lifeless eyes in the cells across from her own. Cassana continued to sit in silence. Her body wouldn't be the thing that got her out of here, if anything would. I need to think. I need to think of what I can do.

If she were to be tried, she could tell the truth. She could admit to rescuing Robb, but not killing Joffrey. And Cersei would still have my head. I'm guilty of treason. But…I…I could expose them.

The thought burned her, egged her on. Something about it seemed like the only way. Her truth wouldn't set her free, but Cersei's and Jaime's might. Stannis would be crowned and he would see no crime in freeing Robb Stark.

She wouldn't be believed though. They would call her a liar as they did her brothers and then she would be executed.

This trial is a farce. I am guilty in all of their eyes already.

Cass felt her chest clench, her stomach drop, and her back tighten. The thought of laying on the Sept of Baelor, her head ready for the great sword, made her stand and grab the bars. "HELP ME!" She was screaming. She was desperate. "GET ME OUT!" Her voice was raspy and raw and barely filled the dungeon.

There were more screams echoing her own, and Cass' grip on the bars fell as she turned away, crying.

"No need to shout, Cassana Baratheon."

Cass didn't turn this time to look at the woman. "Fuck off."

"I could have you killed now, you know. I can. I should after that little remark, but Jaime would just pout and brood all day. I can't stand him when he's like that."

She couldn't help but turn when Cersei mentioned him, but immediately regretted it. She was standing across from her, tall and blond and beautiful. Her chin was high, her hair falling in perfect golden ringlets. And she felt like a bug wriggling, waiting to be squashed. "The Queen Regent honors me with such a visit. Tell me, what do you want? You have my pride and my life. I'm quite certain there is nothing else I can give you."

"Satisfaction." Cersei's green eyes moved up and down, taking her in. "My, you are pathetic, aren't you?"

She didn't deign to give a response. Cass turned back around and took a sip of water.

"Are you excited for your trial, Cassana? I am. I am excited for the world to know your betrayal."

Cass ran her fingers through her hair.

"Look at me, Cassana."

She didn't. Cersei was fine gold and power. She was alive while Cassana was here.

"Look at me!"

The sheer stress in her voice forced her to look. Cersei was breathless, red and angry. Cass attempted to hold her chin up. "Yes?"

"You sit there…" The Queen's face was disgusted. "…thinking yourself so mighty…so…so honorable. You killed my son, you little bitch. At least have the decency to pay attention when I speak to you."

She believes it, doesn't she? Cassana stood up. "I didn't."

Cersei huffed. "Don't lie to me. Your words are vile."

"I'm not lying, Cersei. I wanted your son to be king. My brother is a fool, and the Iron Throne only seems to bring death and stress to those who sit it." Cassana felt a chill. "I am not that brave to want such a thing." I'm a weak little girl. You have always thought that, haven't you? Why aren't you seeing it now?

"You were freeing the wolf."

"Yes." She couldn't deny that—wouldn't. "I was. That was it. I do not have time to plan escapes and murders, Cersei. You trust the Tyrells blindly."

Cersei straightened her back. "Margaery Tyrell is marrying my youngest son, my only son thanks to you." She started to leave. "And you will die before their wedding."

She waited for the last Lannister sibling to show his face, but he didn't. Cass woke anxiously after dozing off to a man approaching her cell, only to be dismayed to see a gold cloak. She attempted to relax, trying to sound apathetic as she said, "Is today the day they kill me?"

"No, my lady." Cass realized it must be the same gold cloak from before. No one else dared to use her title. "Today you go to court."

That, in some ways, would be similar to death. Like this? Cass looked at her rags, her bony hands. There would be no point in arguing, and Cass didn't have the energy left to try and fight the man as he unlocked the door to her cell.

He led her to a room where two women were waiting with a tub of steaming water. So not like this then? "Does my smell offend?"

The gold cloak said nothing but pointed to the tub. "They will bathe you and dress you for court."

"And you will be an honorable man and wait outside?"

The gold cloak hesitated, like Cass thought he would. "I have orders to stay. You know martial combat."

She sighed and removed the rags from her clothes, past caring. The two girls immediately rushed over to help and then led her to the tub. Cass prickled as the hot water hit her flesh, feeling lightheaded, dizzy. The heat burned some of her open cuts and pores, but still she relaxed into it. One woman scrubbed at her hair, the other at her dead skin. I will be a pretty corpse.

They dressed her in grey and she didn't argue away from it. In wolfskins or stag, she was still a traitor. Her eyes went to her fingers, looking for her rings, but they were gone. She traced her collarbone but found Stannis' chain had been removed too. It surprised her that she didn't notice it before, and now that she had…she felt truly naked. Cass tugged at the long black braid when she was given a mirror. "Thank you."

The gold cloak was still red in his cheeks and neck. "Please follow me."

"To King Tywin?"

The gold cloak looked at her, his young face confused. "It is King Tommen, my lady."

"If you insist."

The shackles were reapplied to her wrists and she was dragged to the throne room. Her body felt dead already, her heart cold and uncaring. Men were lining the doors outside, waiting to see her, and she knew there would be more inside. This would be no private hearing. No, the Lannisters would want her treachery known. They would need to ruin her to kill her. These people loved me once. She eyed the ladies and lords in the room as she walked towards the Iron Throne. Their faces held the same look—stupid, mouth-open, and tired. They were tired of war, much like she was, and winter was coming. The fear shone through all of their faces.

"My King." She broke from the gold cloak's hold and into a clumsy curtsy. Tommen looked small on the throne, delicate, and far, far too young. That throne was made from fire and blood. Tommen cried at the sight of a dead cat. She did not know how he could rule a kingdom.

Her eyes turned to his Hand and grandfather, and then to the Queen, and the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. The Lannisters stood above her, flanking the throne. I sat up there once. Who will need to die to have them in chains as I am now?

"Our king is too appalled to speak to you." Cersei placed a hand on her sons shoulder. "It is with great sadness that you're here, Lady Cassana Baratheon."

Her eyes couldn't focus. They kept straying to Jaime, trying to read him, tracing the crown on his armor and how white his cloak was. Damn it. Why are you here? Why are you one of them? "He was my nephew, Cersei." She bit her lip and lied. "I hold a great sadness too."

Tywin was staring at her as everyone else was—his eyes that light green with flecks of gold. He was terrifying to her, filled with power and unknown emotions. She couldn't read him. Try as she might, she couldn't make sense of whether the Hand of the King was mad or upset or felt anything at all towards her. "Tell us what happened."

The Tyrells were there too. Cass hadn't ignored them. The flowers were on the outskirts of the Lannisters, and Cass gave them a passing glance before speaking. "I did not kill my nephew."

"He was poisoned, Lady Cassana." Tywin kept speaking, stepping forward as Tommen began to cry on the Iron Throne. "The wine you served him ended his life."

"I poured the wine. I did not make it." She fumbled at her hair, feeling embarrassed, unprepared and still dirty. Cass looked to Jaime again. She remembered what he had said to her. He thought I killed his son. "Please believe me."

"You know the laws better than most people. Years in court will do that to you. You know your rights."

"I do." She snapped. "And I know you are ready to condemn me for this." Her gaze swept across the throne room. The men and women who once praised her beauty and name now abandoned her in front of the lions. Cass would not make it easy for them. "But I am innocent. I will not confess to a crime I did not do, nor will I try to convince you when you have already decided to kill me." Her head lowered and her voice caught in her chest. Cass swallowed, wringing her hands and looking at the scars covering her skin. "…You should have killed me ages ago. You should have killed me and Ned Stark at the Sept of Baelor. You should have let me die at the Twins." She looked to Jaime, forgetting everyone else in the room for a minute. "I fought so long to live. I fought for my family, for what I thought was best for this place. And though Joffrey was a young…naïve…king, he had you and your family to guide him. My brother has a witch and a false sense of ownership."

The court was quiet at her plea. Tommen's bellows echoed loudly from the Iron Throne, and his mother whispered calming words into his ear. Cersei was still fuming. "Pretty words but words prove nothing."

"No, I suppose they don't." Cass exhaled, her nerves taking over. "Words are all I have though."

"And the right of the sword!"

Cass looked at her nephew, who had shouted from his metal seat. Tommen was still crying, wiping at his puffy, red face. He continued through his breathless wails, "The Gods can prove your innocence, Aunt Cassana!"

Trial by combat? She wanted to laugh at the thought. No man would fight for her, and she was weak. Jaime's teachings would be nothing against a sword in the right hand. Cass curtsied lower. "A clever offer, my king. The Gods know my innocence. They would surely bless the man who fights for me." She paused then. Cass didn't want to die. Robb would still be here. And Jaime too. This war would rage on afterwards and she would have done nothing to stop it. "But as you can see, I lack a volunteer."

The Queen Regent was grinning as Cass squirmed and looked around the room to some of the Stormlords that had joined Joffrey after Renly fell. You loved my father and Robert but you are too afraid. Your life outweighs your honor. She could not blame them for it.

"It would be an honor to fight for you, my lady."

Cass recognized the accent more than the voice, and even so, she didn't quite believe she heard anything at all. Jaime looked stricken, and Cass turned to where his green eyes were focused to see the olive-skinned man approach her. He was good-looking, smooth and dangerous. Cass' mouth dropped when she realized what he was doing and bowed at her feet. "Thank you." She offered him a manacle chained hand, and the poor man kissed it. Who is this? Her mind searched for names—he was Dornish for certain. The accent and the dress and the face gave that away in an instant.

"Prince Oberyn, please, you do not have to get involved in these matters." Lord Tywin was smiling, but even a blind man could see the tension and stress underneath his skin.

"Prince Oberyn Martell." Cass was holding back a cry. She saw the speared sun on his chest. "You…you are the one who honors me." But why is he doing this? She didn't know if she would have a chance to speak with her champion. The Martells held no love for the Baratheons at all, and Cass had never even met this man before. "Thank you."

Tywin was still trying to dissuade the man, but Cass could not hear it. The throne room was echoing with the murmurs and gasps of the court, and she couldn't stop looking at Jaime. His face was paling, the bright green in his eyes becoming dull and shallow. I did not do this. She wanted to talk to him. She wanted to be alone with him to tell him that, to tell him she loved him.

The Prince of Dorne could not be swayed, and the Queen was getting frustrated. "He will fight for Lady Cassana then. He insists on it, so it will be so. I will name my champion now."

Cass realized the agonizing look on the knight's face. Her heart raced when Cersei began to smile and turned towards her twin. No, no. Make one of your Kettleblacks or the Mountain. Don't…

"Ser Jaime, you will fight for me."

The champions would be given the day to rest and prepare, but Cass was dragged back to the Black Cells. The transition made her cough as her body was plunged into the dank, injurious hole. In the darkness, she was still looking for Robb. She listened for any whispers of the Young Wolf's name, any indication that he was also being brought up for trial or much worse. How can I save you now, Robb? I can't even save myself.

She thought of what had happened in the deeper pit of the Red Keep. The Red Viper was taking arms for her. He was fighting for her innocence when Cass had done nothing to spur him. He hates my family. He must. My brother ripped his sister off the Iron Throne. She had never spoken to a Martell before, never gave the great house a passing thought unless she was drinking an extraordinary vintage.

"He's…he's fighting Jaime." Cass watched as the gold cloak unshackled her wrists. She was still in the grey dress, her hair still in a braid. "…That's what happened, yes?"

"My lady?"

She shook her head, embarrassed. "My apologies. I am…surprised by this course of events."

"As am I."

The gold cloak and Cassana stiffened as the Dornish prince approached, an attractive, black-haired woman by his side. She let the guard remove the remainder of her metal shackles and bow out. "Prince Oberyn." She curtsied again. Her boots dug into the filth of her cell. "You are surprising me more and more."

The Red Viper eyed her like hanging meat and smirked. "We have never met before, have we, Cassana Baratheon? Let me introduce my paramour, Ellaria Sand."

A bastard then? Cass had learned a long time ago not to judge bastards. Perhaps she should hold the same thing true for the Dornish. "It is an honor to meet you as well. Your prince is brave."

"And you are braver." Her accent was thick, smooth like honey, and she placed her hands on the bars of Cass' cell. "Such a brave girl to kill a king."

Cass nearly laughed. "I did not kill him. Surely you must believe that."

"It does not matter what I believe or not." Oberyn crossed his arms. "I am fighting for you."

Suicide. Cass did not expect the trial to last long at all. You're fighting Jaime. "Maybe you can get out now if you beg. Your brother will certainly be saddened by your death, and I doubt Lord Tywin wants a war with Dorne. He has too many wars already." She didn't like the way they were staring at her. Robert had told her stories of the Dornish, and though she was sure most were laced with prejudice and hate, Cass could not help but have those feelings buried deep inside her thoughts as well. They have no reason to fight for me. And Cass said as much.

Oberyn laughed outwardly at her speech. "Let me test your knowledge of history, little princess. That's what you would be in Dorne, do you know that?"

Cass nodded and took a step closer to the cell. "And here I am barely a lady."

"You were never supposed to be a princess either." Ellaria spoke, barely hiding the venom in her voice.

I was never a princess but I was almost a Queen—more than Elia Martell ever was. But she doubted that would go over well. "I did not fight my brother's war. I was North and could not even walk."

"But you believed in him, did you not? You are a Baratheon?" He was testing her. Oberyn kept smiling.

That she could not deny. "I am."

"And that is why you question me?"

Cassana crossed her arms and held up her chin. Perhaps she could be intimidating too if she tried. "Yes."

"Smart girl. But a bad memory. Your brother killed a Targaryen. It is that house that hates you, not mine."

"Bur Robert…"

"A charming fool, so I hear. At least he was charming before he got fat. A fool he was throughout his life. He lacked foresight. He would not give the order to kill my sister and my niece and nephew."

Cass' cheeks burned. Oberyn did not know about the dragons across the sea and how her brother had hunted them. Her brother was not above killing children, but she would not tell him that. "Gregor Clegane killed your sister. He raped her and smashed little Aegon's head against a wall." She watched his simmered rage boil over into his face, staining his forehead and cheekbones red. Oberyn's knuckles were nearly white, and Ellaria tried to comfort him with soft kisses. Cass edged back, uncomfortable, but continued. "Tywin Lannister gave the order. I was a baby and even I know that."

"And now you understand, don't you?"

Revenge then. She had forgotten the Martells were invited to Joffrey's wedding, had barely noticed them behind the roses and lions. They hate the Lannisters more than the Starks do. They have every reason to. Another traitor in the Red Keep's walls. The thought excited her. She wanted to talk to the prince more, beg him to help Robb, to sail him to Dorne and promise that her brother would get vengeance for him if or when he became king. Promises were easy to make, even promises she did not want fully. At least my brother does not want my head on a spike. That had won her loyalty back.

But that promise seemed wrong. Robert Baratheon was a usurper to them. An alliance would not happen. This, most likely, was a single instance of vengeance. Dorne could not afford to turn its back on the Lannisters or the Red Keep completely. What other alliances could they hold in a higher regard? She was turning white as well. "A death for a death then."

"Very smart girl." Oberyn was stroking Ellaria's neck.

Cass felt bile in her throat. "…Jaime will kill you."

He turned and lifted an eyebrow, his attention swayed. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you wanted him to. Now, now. You have seen the Kingslayer fight, and even the Red Viper admits he is very good. But you have never seen me."

No, she hadn't. But she had heard stories. She heard of the man he had first killed with a mere cut, the wound festering and boiling into an agonizing death. She heard of his giant spear, his lust, and his temper. Her fear suddenly shifted away from herself. "You cannot kill him. They will surrender before you do. Jaime's loss will shatter his pride and his house, and making him yield will do that alone. Death is not the only price of a life."

"The Kingslayer is not known to yield."

No, damn it, he isn't. And did it even need to go that far? One cut was all it was said for the Red Viper to claim the death of his opponent. Robert had told her the blade was poison, the snake's true weapon. "Dorne is not ready for war, Prince Oberyn." She tried not to make her voice sound desperate but that failed. "You cannot afford it."

"No, princess, you are wrong." He grabbed Ellaria's hip. "My brother is the one not ready."

A/N:

In other news, season 4 is coming tonight. SO EXCITED! I will continue to write! Let me know what you think!