"He wants you," Shae told Sansa matter-of-factly. She had caught a glimpse of Oberyn when she opened the door for Sansa. She knew that look. She had seen that look on Littlefinger whenever he was with her as well, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

"No, he doesn't want me," Sansa fired back calmly as Shae reapplied the salve Varys gave her on her back. Luckily for her, they seemed to be slightly better from the day before. "He has a beautiful paramour who is the mother of four of his daughters."

"What's a paramour?"

"She's his lover," Sansa explained. "But... she's like his wife as well, I guess... I don't know how to explain it."

Ever pragmatic, Shae came up with the perfect conclusion. "So, he has a woman to fu... bed on the side while you're to be his wife." She would always speak openly with Sansa, but at times, she would forget that Sansa was a lady through and through and not use any manner of crude language.

"No, he loves her," Sansa rebutted. She was no fool. When Oberyn presented Ellaria to her, he had a twinkle of pride in his eyes. She had seen it in her parents' eyes. That kind of expression could only come from a relationship that has weathered many storms.

"And you're alright with that?" Shae asked her. Many high-born ladies would not tolerate the notion that their husbands having other women, and would scheme and plot to remove any competition from them. That would be a smart thing to do, anyways.

"She's a lovely person," Sansa reasoned, remembering how tightly Ellaria had embraced her upon their introduction. She remembered how concerned Ellaria was when she had come out of her trance when she was warging as Grey Wind. "If I'm to be married to Oberyn, I'll have to accept that Ellaria's here to stay. I can't just... declare war with her. It wouldn't work that way."

However, Shae had one more question in her mind. "Do you like women then?" she asked.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Oh, there was still so much that Sansa did not know of the world. Sighing, Shae met her eyes with Sansa's and said, "You'll know when the time comes, my lady." Sansa could have sworn that the tone of Shae's voice was much alike that of an elder sister teaching an ignorant younger one. "The Queen's maids came by this afternoon, they said that you'll be moved to rooms near your prince by tomorrow morning."

"Does he know that I'm moving there?" Sansa asked. Oberyn gave no indication that he did, though. However, she did not expect that Cersei Lannister would give her up to easily.

"We'll have to see then," Shae replied, fanning Sansa's back with her hand to help the salve dry faster.

Ellaria and Oberyn were the first to enter Sansa's rooms that morning. They hadn't particularly forced their way in, but Shae was not too willing to let them in. They did not begrudge her for it, for she was doing her duty as Sansa's handmaiden, after all. Her rooms were simple, but elegantly decorated. Sansa was hidden behind a screen, but Shae silently allowed them to go behind it. They were to be the closest people to her in only a few day's time. She might as well let them.

Sansa was sleeping on her stomach, her nightdress worn backwards with the bodice unlaced. It was done to ensure that her whip-wounds could breathe even if she slept in the night. "Such cruelty..." Ellaria gasped. She did not notice Sansa's wounds the previous day, but it was evident that Oberyn did. He only looked at those wounds in anger, soothed only by Ellaria's gentle grasp of his arm.

"How often does the King beat her?" Oberyn asked Shae.

"Often enough, my lord." Shae replied.

"Why didn't you call for a maester?" Ellaria demanded softly, careful not to wake Sansa up. The Gods knew that she needed her rest.

"Lady Sansa did not want the Grand Maester near her, my lady," Shae answered, and continued in a lower, softer voice, "He is a confirmed spy for the Queen and the Lord Hand."

Oberyn took in a sharp intake of breath, but said nothing further. Sansa was politically astute to a fault, although by avoiding medical attention, she would have risked her life more than those around her had endangered her. Then, he noticed a small jar at the bedside table and picked it up. He opened the lid and smelled its contents before turning towards Shae again. "Who gave this to you?" he asked.

"Lord Varys, my lord. He said that the whores used something like this in Littlefinger's brothel."

Varys... he had been an accomplice in the plots to bring the Targaryens back to the Iron Throne ever since Robert Baratheon ascended to it. Where others might fear him for his extensive network of spies, and his less-than stable allegiances, one would have taken him as only one of the many villains plotting and scheming in the capital. At least, Varys was one of the more kind-hearted of the villains plotting and scheming in the capital.

Ellaria nodded and shooed Oberyn to a chair behind the screen while Shae started to pack Sansa's things. "It's time to wake up, my love," Ellaria cooed into Sansa's ear. It turned out that she was quite easy to wake. It must be from the many years of living a disciplined life of a Northern lady.

"What time is it?" Sansa asked, rubbing her eyes.

"Early enough," Ellaria replied with a smile. "Apparently the Queen wants you out of her sight as soon as possible, and we're here to help you move."

"Thank you," Sansa said, trying hard to stifle a yawn. She then signaled Shae to help her to dress, but she sensed that Ellaria was smiling rather sneakily and when Shae came behind the screen with a new dress that was in the colour between grey and lavender, she almost squeaked in excitement. "Thank you!" she exclaimed. It was made in the Dornish style. The neckline was cut low, bringing attention to the curve of her cleavage, but not as low as that of Ellaria's, to accommodate to her Northern sensibilities, while the skirts were flowing and light.

Oberyn could not help but smile when he saw Sansa emerge from behind the screen in her new dress. "Beautiful," he praised, causing her to blush slightly. "You will never again have to forgo the colors of your family," he whispered into her ear. She thanked him profusely before she and Ellaria began shuffling all over the chamber to pack. Ellaria had never seen such a great amount of furs in her lifetime, seeing that Sansa was from the North. They now served as memories of her life in Winterfell.

"You've grown much since you've come here, my love," Ellaria observed as Shae sorted out some of Sansa's old dresses that she couldn't fit into any more. They were certainly not made of grand materials, but were made with enough skill to make the wearer look effortlessly elegant. Any self-respecting woman would take a single look at them and know that they were made by superior hands. "Who made these for you?"

"I did," Sansa said. She was always proud of being able to make her own dresses. It was a skill that she had learned from her mother since she was a young girl. During her days in the capital, dress-making was one of the ways she used to drown herself in silence, keeping everything that happened around her at bay. Ellaria only smiled wider, and hugged her.

"Dornish gowns are made differently," Ellaria explained. "The Dornish sun burns you even in winter..."

Oberyn watched as his paramour and future wife talked about women's fashion while packing, heaving a sigh of relief that Sansa had taken to Ellaria so easily. He did not expect it of her, but then again, there were many things in Sansa that he could never have imagined. "My dears, I would appreciate it if you could be slightly faster. Lady Olenna Tyrell has invited us for tea in the gardens this afternoon."

Margery Tyrell was ecstatic to see Sansa walking tall, her head held high with Oberyn and Ellaria. Olenna Tyrell found the Dornish practice of having paramours absolutely fascinating and was engrossed in deep conversation with Ellaria the moment she arrived.

"What a change it has been!" Margery exclaimed, holding Sansa's hands in hers. "Who would've ever imagined that you'd be a bride before me?" Her words were carefully chosen, of course, but still, they contained a joy that only a true friend could have. They had been friends because of their similar positions. Sansa had been Joffrey's intended even after her father was executed, while Margery had arrived in King's Landing, freshly widowed by Renly Baratheon, ready to snag the King from any competition. Sansa had freely relinquished her position to Margery, and they had bonded after Olenna convinced her to give her information about Joffrey's personality.

The Tyrells were kindly hosts. After tea, Margery graciously led Sansa and Margery through the gardens, showing them the improvements that the Tyrells had made there since unofficially claiming the gardens as their "base" in the Red Keep. Together, they gossiped and cooed over the beautiful flowers and plants while Oberyn was finally left alone with Olenna.

"Do you have any news from the Westerlands?" Olenna asked Oberyn in a hushed tone.

"My daughters said that Roose Bolton was discovered trying to betray Robb Stark to his enemies," Oberyn replied. "The Young Wolf stripped him of his lands and titles and now he is shoveling shit in the fields that they had taken."

Olenna harrumphed and shook her head. "That'll put an end to the centuries of bad blood between the Boltons and the Starks," she commented. "Whatever you Martells offered him, he sure is taking all of it in eagerly."

"We share a common vengeance, Lady Olenna," Oberyn replied. "I have no doubts that my betrothed would like to see every last one of those Lannisters in their grave as my family does."

"Cutting off Ned Stark's head was the most foolish thing that anyone can do," Olenna muttered. "But come now, what possessed you and your brother to want to reach out to the Starks? Wasn't Lyanna Stark that caused the start of the war?" Like her granddaughter, the Queen of Thorns was also cleverly cautious with what was said to Oberyn, or all others for the matter.

"I told you, we share a common vengeance," Oberyn replied. Relations between the Tyrells and the Martells were mutually cool. Dorne did not pry into the matters of Highgarden, while Highgarden did not probe into Dorne's affairs. When the tables were turned, they would have mutual interests in one another's activities. The Tyrells only knew about the alliance between Dorne and the North because Oberyn had tasked Varys to give the news to Sansa, and the Spider passed it onto Lady Olenna, who seemed benign enough not to arouse suspicion.

Olenna understood then that there was nothing more that Oberyn wished to tell her. "She was shivering and stammering the first time I saw her at court, you know," she continued, gesturing her chin towards Sansa. "Frightened little thing she was. Beaten by the King more times than one should think possible... But one day, something in her raged. It was as if she couldn't take the malice any more, and used it as a mirror. Those Tully eyes of hers stared the King and his Kingsguard down, along with Cersei and the rest of them as though she vowed to kill them all in their sleep! Those foolish lions thought that she was afraid of them!"

"Her family still thinks her to be the frightened little girl, trapped without her family in the capital," Oberyn added. "They want her out of here as fast as I can manage it."

"We both know that it will take longer than simply marrying the girl to get her out of King's Landing without suspicion," Olenna returned. "But at the rate of her brother's progress..."

"Nothing's for sure, my lady," Oberyn said. "In any case, Robb Stark is becoming more of a King and less a general with each passing day. Things will become... very interesting, to say the least."

This, Olenna could agree with. "Yes indeed," she replied. "This girl is the key to the North, Prince Oberyn. Do you think that the Lannisters will relinquish her to you so easily?"

"So long as her brother sits upon Casterly Rock, they'll have to do whatever is necessary to undermine him," he answered. "Marrying her to Dorne brings her as far from her family as possible. They cannot let go of an opportunity like this." However, Dorne's success in deceiving the Lannisters rode on the cooperation of the Tyrells, and so far, they were worthy allies. It had been made abundantly clear that the Tyrells did not care who sat upon the Iron Throne. All they wanted was to have as much political power as they could. Centuries of being the richest family in Westeros was not enough. They now wanted the influence along with the wealth. Thankfully enough, they did not have qualms as to whoever they ran in or made enemies with. It made things easier for everyone.

All of a sudden, a crack of thunder could be heard. Stormclouds were gathered over King's Landing. "There, an omen from the Gods if you'll have one," Olenna said. Soon enough, Ellaria, Margery and Sansa came running into the pavilion where they were, pelted by giant raindrops. "Look at you poor dears, you're soaked through!"

Ellaria only smiled politely while Sansa and Margery giggled with one another. Oberyn just sat there, enjoying the view. There was nothing more pleasing to a man's eye than women clad in wet silks, and there were three of the greatest beauties in the Seven Kingdoms before him.

It did not take long for Sansa to realize that Dornish dinners were akin to grand feasts in the North. Although the fare was not too sumptuous, the wine was kept flowing. She had never had much wine to begin with, but at Ellaria's encouragement, she began to take a sip or two from her cup. It took a lot of getting used to, but she gathered that she would be drinking as freely as the others were in no time.

"Lady Sansa, you must imagine our shock when Prince Oberyn agreed with our Prince Doran that he must marry you for Dorne!" one of the ladies exclaimed. Of course, none of the Dornishmen would betray themselves to anyone in the capital, but still, good news must be celebrated. "Now, Ellaria can spend her time raising her daughters and not having to fuss over our difficult prince!"

"Dear lady," Oberyn retorted. "I believe that it was you that led us children sneaking away from the Maester's schoolroom when we were children. I assure you, that I am not the difficult one here."

Said lady chuckled even louder, and Sansa could not stop herself from smiling. "My sister Arya used to skip her classes to shoot arrows," Sansa related gaily. It was a great challenge having to bring Arya up in a conversation such as this, but she knew that in order to move forward, she had to stop the past from hurting her. "In the end, she got better than our younger brother Bran. Father was pleased although it wasn't very ladylike."

A knight, Deamon Sand offered, "My lady, women in Dorne are trained in the martial arts if they so wished. Perhaps our prince should teach you how to handle the spear?"

Oberyn clicked his tongue. "Peace, Ser Deamon," he said. "Sansa here is a properly lady of the North. She's not used to..."

"Actually, I'd love to learn," Sansa said, looking very much interested in the prospect. "If... my betrothed permits it, of course."

Ellaria actually turned to look pointedly at Oberyn, imitating Sansa's expression. As a rule, he had ensured that all of his daughters were trained to fight. In fact, it was the most basic of their abilities. The Sand Snakes, especially the older ones could do more than that. Obara could command armies, Nymeria was a brilliant strategist, while Tyene was an expert in poisons like her father. Even her youngest daughters had begun their training, even with their father abroad on affairs of state.

"If my betrothed is willing to learn, why not?" Oberyn returned, kissing the back of Sansa's hand for added effect. In fact, it was a very, very good idea indeed. They did not know where their paths would bring them, nor would they know what the next day would bring. Their days would most likely be filled with blood and battle, and Oberyn would be put at ease if Sansa knew how to defend herself. It would no doubt put a massive frown on Robb's face, and that was an expression that he greatly wished to see. "I will train you myself, dear one, when we can."

A round of applause rang through and Sansa could not help but melt into his resulting embrace. Seconds later, she bobbed her head up from his shoulder and said, "But I... think that I'd be too clumsy with a spear..."

"I will teach you to handle any weapon that you wish to learn," Oberyn returned. He was holding her hand tight in his, and he added, in a soft whisper to only her ears, "No one will ever harm you then."

Sansa could see from his eyes that he meant those words. She could hear from his tone of voice that he was sincere. She also knew that if they spoke any more of the matter, she would cry tears of gratitude, and she didn't want that to happen. Instead, she let her body loose and did as it wanted, and she found herself leaning her head on his shoulders again whilst the Dornish continued making merry deep into the night.

She decided for herself that she rather enjoyed the company of Oberyn's countrymen. They spoke freely and were without pretense, man and woman alike. They also held a great respect for everyone, regardless of their status. In the eyes of the court, she was the daughter and sister of traitors, while to them, she was soon to be their princess, a person to be cherished because their prince did. She told herself that it was because of the love of his people for him that she decided that she could place her trust in Oberyn. Her father's people loved him too, and it was the same love that she saw in the Dornishmen for Oberyn.

It was also then when she decided that there were really little to no differences between Wolves and Vipers after all.

This chapter is all Sansa. We also get a glimpse between Grandma Tyrell and Oberyn, and also how well the Dornish are receiving their future princess.

If you're wondering about Robb, he's still skulking in Casterly Rock, trying to figure out how to fight the war henceforth.

Enjoy!