"She's getting better, no?" Ellaria asked Sansa as they watched Oberyn spar with Brienne. "A fine beauty in armor. Do women fight in the North, my love?"

"There's House Mormont of Bear Island," Sansa answered. "The women there fight like the men, fending off wildlings that got through the Wall by way of the sea." House Mormont was led by Meage Mormont after it's lord, Ser Jorah, had fled her father's justice for selling men into slavery and his father, Jeor, took the black and became the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. "Can you fight, Ellaria?"

Ellaria smiled warmly. "I can defend myself if I need to, but I am no warrior," she replied. "However, Oberyn insists to have each of his daughters trained to fight. They're very good at what they do, the Sand Snakes and their father."

They watched on as Oberyn danced about Brienne, who was trying to find an opening to strike between his incessant taunting with his spear. He twirled it and jumped around rather acrobatically, and she was soon losing her patience. If it were Jaime Lannister, she would have already barked at him, but with Oberyn, she knew that he was testing her.

Opportunity soon came and she pierced her sword through the arc that occurred when spear alternated between his left hand and the right. However, he bent backwards and twirled his spear between his hands again, forcing Brienne's sword away from her hand.

"How did you learn how to do that?" Brienne asked Oberyn when he returned her sword to her.

"I've been using the spear since I was a boy," he answered. "My father had a guest from Yi Ti in the Water Gardens where we made our home. He was an old man, but a deft man and all I wanted to do was to learn how he wielded the spear. He decided to honor my father and teach me a few tricks. When I started, all he gave me to do were stances and breathing techniques. I was incredibly bored, but something within me told me that he was right, so I did whatever he told me to do. Blasted old thing died before he could finish teaching me, and when I traveled all over Essos, I bought every martial art manual from Yi Ti there was and studied them."

Brienne could not determine whether he was speaking the truth or not. It didn't matter though. She realized the more she sparred with Oberyn, the better her chances of winning against him. She was beginning to read the movements of others faster, and was able to deflect, parry and attack better than she ever could. It wasn't the amount of practice that she had gotten to have that made her improve, it was the one she was practicing with.

"So, if I go to Yi Ti, I'll expect everyone jumping around like acrobats when they duel?" Brienne asked Oberyn with a raised eyebrow.

"Perhaps one day, we should all cross the Jade Sea and find out about that," Oberyn said, sauntering off to both Sansa and Ellaria. "Would you two love to see Yi Ti and its emerald jungles?"

"Only if you promise that we'd see a basilisk," Sansa returned with some amount of sarcasm.

"Come now, don't you believe in your husband?" Oberyn asked her, bringing each arm around his wife and his paramour. "Once this bloody mess of a war has ended, I will bring take you and Ellaria on a trip across Essos. We shall walk in the markets of the Free Cities, and marvel at the Great Pyramid of Mereen and..."

A Dornish messenger interrupted Oberyn's boasts with a letter from Casterly Rock. "News from the front, my Prince and Princess," he said, and passed Oberyn the letter sealed with the one used by his daughters.

"You may leave," Oberyn said, nodding to both the messenger and Brienne. He read the contents of the letter and passed it over to Sansa. "Congratulations, Sansa," he whispered into her ear. "The Bolton bastard has ceded control of Winterfell to the brave ladies of House Mormont. Ramsay Snow and Theon Greyjoy will be brought to Casterly Rock before their King."

Sansa was clenching her skirts when she heard the mention of Theon Greyjoy, the one who was responsible for the death of her little brothers, Bran and Rickon. If Tywin Lannister was telling the truth, they were burned to death as well...

Tears had begun to well in her eyes, but they did not fall. Oberyn could see her staring into the training area with the same hard expression she had viewed everyone else at court with, a vengeful hatred that Cersei had so often mistaken with vacant fear.

"Robb's legitimized Jon," she told Oberyn and Ellaria instead. "Although Jon's at the Wall, he'll be known as Jon Stark from now on..."

"Does your half-brother accept it?" Ellaria asked her. Northmen were not Dornishmen. Bastards could not care less if they were legitimized. Even if they did not inherit, they still lived like full members of the family.

"I don't know yet," Sansa answered. "Robb says that there hasn't been a reply from Castle Black."

"Your brother loves his family greatly," Oberyn recounted. "His bannermen told me that he takes after your lord father in every way."

"He grew up with Jon and Theon as his playmates," Sansa continued, and then her expression hardened even more. "Theon deserves everything he gets, he..." She felt Ellaria's hand on her back, a comforting gesture. There were so many who wronged her family, and only one of them had passed on. She did not know if that was a blessing or a curse upon them.

Oberyn held her close to him and let her lean her head on his shoulder. "They will pay, one by one," he told her gently, as if he had been whispering sweet nothings to her. "You have to be patient."

That was where the Northmen were different from the Dornishmen. When under threat, the Northerners rouse their armies, demanding justice within notice of a slight. They fight with all they have until they can no longer do so. On the other hand, Dornishmen would lie in wait. Their vengeance may take long, but they will be complete. For they knew that it was not enough to have their enemies defeated. They would have to take everything they loved, everything they cherished.

Robb Stark was glowering when they brought Theon Greyjoy and Ramsay Snow into the main hall of Casterly Rock, where they had used the grandest chair to act as his throne.

Ramsay Snow wore a blank expression, his pale grey-blue eyes trained upon the King in the North, while Theon, Theon clutched at his feet and shivered like a dog in the cold.

"What happened to you, Theon?" Robb asked him, his brow furrowed. Where once proud Theon Greyjoy stood, a shadow of what he once was remained. This shadow wore Theon's face but he had none of Theon's air. None of his brash daring or the smile that would make girls and whores swoon. "Theon?"

Curiosity took the best of him and Robb got off from the makeshift throne to take a closer look of Theon while the Sand Snakes watched Ramsay's every move. "He won't recognize you, Your Grace," Ramsay warned Robb. "He's not the Theon Greyjoy you remember. Come to think of it, he's not... completely Theon."

One look at Theon's bloodied breeches made Robb understand everything. Theon had been castrated, and Ramsay seemed to be very proud of it. If Theon had not been clinging onto him, Robb would have had Roose Bolton's bastard flung into sea from the nearest window.

"Reek... Reek!" Theon whimpered, "Not, Theon, I'm Reek!"

Robb would have none of it. "You're Theon Greyjoy, last surviving son of Balon Greyjoy!" Robb roared back, seizing Theon by the collar, getting him to stand. "You were the ward of Winterfell. You grew up next to Jon and I. We ate together, learned together, you swore that we'd die fighting together!"

Theon was in tears. "Reek... not Theon..." he sobbed.

"Told you..."

Robb punched Ramsay Snow in the face to the point where he fell backwards. His nose was probably broken. "Watch that one," he hissed at Obara and Nymeria. The sisters nodded and immediately had the guards chain him up and taken into the dungeon cells. Robb would deal with that one later. "Theon, look at me," he said, forcing Theon to look into his blue eyes. "Look at me!"

"Tell me Theon, you didn't kill Bran and Rickon," Robb pleaded. "You're not that kind of man. You're loyal, you're my brother..." Theon did not stop sobbing. He was shaking his head, trying to look away but Robb wouldn't let him. "Do you remember after Bran fell? The Imp got him a new saddle so he could ride and we took him riding. You killed the wildlings that tried to take Bran. You saved my brother from them although you were a right idiot shooting the one that had him!"

It was not possible that the very same Theon Greyjoy would kill Bran. Theon was a cocky fool at times, but he was not vicious and cruel. He was insecure at times, but it was because he was a ward, a prisoner in anything but name although he was treated well. He was eager to prove himself, and he was loyal too. It was then when Robb realized that everything that Theon Greyjoy was made him meet his fate thus. It was such a... Theon thing to do.

"I... killed the boys," Theon stuttered after a long silence. "I... shouldn't..."

"They weren't just boys!" Robb roared. "They were my brothers!"

"No... no..." Theon cried. "Farmer's boys... Bran and Rickon... escaped..."

Bran and Rickon were alive?

Robb's eyes widened and he released his grip on Theon. He had mourned his little brothers. His mother had cried for them bitterly. To know that they were not dead from Theon's own mouth, he did not know whether he should celebrate or be afraid. "If they weren't Bran and Rickon, who were they?" he demanded, but Theon only retreated further into his shell. "Theon, tell me!"

"They were two farm boys!" he cried back. "I killed them and burned them so no one would know!"

"Where are they?" Robb asked Theon. "I have to know if they're alive, Theon!'

"Don't... know," Theon sobbed. "Went North... may have reached... the Wall..."

The Wall. If they were going to the Wall, then Jon would be able to keep them safe. Robb called for the guards to have Theon bathed and fed before they brought him to a chamber that was heavily guarded and went to call his lords, wife and mother.

Within the hour, everyone that he needed to see was assembled before him. "What did Theon confess?" Catelyn asked her son.

"He didn't kill Bran and Rickon," Robb answered. "He killed two farmboys in their stead, burned the bodies so no one could recognize them. He says that they've gone North, to the Wall."

"We've got to find them, Robb!" Catelyn exclaimed. "My boys..."

Talisa held her hand and nodded. She was soon to be a mother, and now understood an inkling of the anguish that her mother-in-law must have felt when she received news that her sons were most likely dead.

"Uncle Brynden, send word to Lady Mormont to spare no effort in searching for my brothers. They'll have to go beyond the Wall if they have to," Robb instructed the Blackfish.

"Aye, Your Grace," Brynden Tully said.

"What are you going to do with Theon then?" Talisa asked Robb. Her husband was not a man who would kill his own men lightly, less so one that he thought of as a brother before his own betrayal.

Robb slumped onto the nearest chair and rested his head in his hands. "I don't know," he groaned. "The fact that Theon didn't kill Bran and Rickon... but he did take Winterfell in his father's name. Ramsay Snow, he... unmanned Theon after sacking Winterfell."

"So you'll spare Theon?" Catelyn burst out. "After what he did to Winterfell?"

"Mother, what if Theon and I exchanged places?" Robb returned. "I would've done the same thing if Father wanted me to take the Iron Islands! He's been punished enough." The Gods only knew what horrors had Ramsay Snow inflicted upon Theon. If he survived them and became so broken in the process, then the Gods had seen it fit to let him live. Living with what he had done would be the greatest punishment he would have.

"What about Ramsay Snow, Bolton's bastard?" a Northern lord asked. "He's the one who sacked Winterfell and burnt it to the ground."

Robb fell silent. He didn't know what to do with Ramsay Snow, but he knew that he could not place him back with his father. It would be suicide. Ramsay was vicious but he was not a fool. If brought back to his father, even if they no longer had the means, the two of them would tear at the Northern Army like shreds.

"Have Ramsay Snow unmanned like he did Theon," Robb said, his voice resolute. "Then put him and his member on the next ship to Pyke from Lannisport. Tell Balon Greyjoy that I've returned the Bolton bastard's favor to his son and he's allowed to do whatever he wants with him and Theon Greyjoy is dead. Theon will continue living as Theon Snow." He would have Theon and Ramsay exchange their places. He would have Theon suffer the pain of survival and he would have Ramsay suffer whatever it was the Ironborn would have him suffer. Death would be too easy for the both of them.

Sansa knew that Oberyn was not sleeping well. Ellaria had stolen off to pleasure a coquettish little lady from a minor house from the Crownlands, leaving them alone in their chambers. Her husband had been tossing and turning and playing at her hair the whole night and thought that she would not notice. When she felt his finger trace the line that Ser Meryn Trant had caused she turned towards him and asked, "Is something bothering you, Oberyn?"

Oberyn was silent. He brought an arm around her, stroking her hair behind her head and he thought of what to say. One look into those blue eyes and he was done for. He knew that he could not tell anything but the truth to her. "I am thinking about the pie just now," he told her, trying his luck anyways. "It reminded me of a particularly terrible one I ate as a child."

"You're lying," Sansa said absently.

"How did you know I was lying?" Oberyn asked her. She did not seem to be one that could detect lies very well, judging her by character. He could not lie to her because he looked into her eyes and he found them so haunting, so ethereal that he was stirred to tell the truth. He had been entranced by them since the first day they met.

"Lord Baelish once told me that everyone was a liar," she answered. "They all lied better than me. Joffrey lied that he would send Father to the Wall, the Queen lied that I would be safe here. Everyone lies. I told myself one day that I had to start knowing how they lied and lie like them or else I was going to end up like Father did. Father told the one most terrible truth and he died for it."

Oberyn sighed. When Elia was lost to him, he had thought that all the light in the world had gone from him. He found no joy. He traveled to Essos, joined the Second Sons, searching for death but all he had was glory. When he returned to Dorne he went from man to woman to man to woman until he met Ellaria, who brought him some measure of peace, bit by bit. He could only imagine the pain that Sansa had went through, losing a father, being virtually kept prisoner by her father's executors. She showed nothing of it. It made him wonder if she was truly destined to be a Martell. She seemed to live out every single meaning of his House's words.

"You don't look at me directly when you lie," Sansa explained. "You tend to look away. You'll only look straight ahead when you want to attack. No wonder they call you the Red Viper."

He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. "The man who killed your father is dead," he said, looking into her ice-blue eyes. "He has gone to whatever hell he deserves, but... the beast that killed my sister is still alive," he told her. "You know that Tyrion Lannister wants a trial by combat. Who do you think would be the Queen's champion?"

"The Mountain," she answered, her eyes widening when she realized the meaning of his words. "He's the Lannisters' butcher. You can't face him! He's huge! His... sword is huge!"

"You already have been vindicated with Joffrey's death, Sansa," he told her, almost pleading her. "Whatever he's done to you and your family, at least the wounds will begin to heal, no matter how festered they've been. Elia's not been avenged yet, and I will not rest until the Mountain is dead."

Sansa would have none of it. "There are... a thousand ways to kill the Mountain," she reasoned. "You can have him poisoned, you can have him assassinated... You could slit his throat..."

"It won't matter if I did any of those, Sansa," Oberyn told her. "I want him to admit it before everyone, that Tywin Lannister ordered him to kill my sister and her children. I want him to admit that he raped her and murdered her in front of the whole world."

"Oberyn, please," Sansa pleaded. "What you're doing is suicide! Ellaria would scream at you when she finds out. She won't be happy about it."

"No, she won't," he admitted. "But I have made my decision." He cannot let this chance slip by him. He had waited too long for this chance.

"What if you lose?" she asked him. "You can't put us aside like that..." She knew what Oberyn was about to do when he brought her closer to her, and struggled to pull away from him. If he thought he could kiss her and be done with it, he was wrong. "Oberyn..."

Oberyn held her close to him no matter what. He was stronger than her and he could keep her in his arms. "I won't lose," he told her, tucking her head beneath her chin, holding her until she stopped struggling. "I promised you yesterday, didn't I? I told you that I'd keep my head. I can't leave you or Ellaria, I love you..."

"You... love me?" Sansa repeated, eyes wide with disbelieve.

Oberyn smiled. "Yes, my dear wife," he told her. "I once thought that you were a lady to be saved, and if by marrying you I can free you, I would, but you have strength deeper than any Northman or Dornishman can ever have. Ellaria loves you too, in her own way." He brought her lips for a kiss, one that was deep, yet passionate, one of promise. He kissed her after that as well, kissing her until her lips had swollen slightly and she found no will to fret any longer. "Do you have so little faith in your husband?"

"You mustn't lose," she stressed. "You'll only be bringing me back to the Lannisters if you do. What would your daughters do if you failed?" Ellaria had told her before that the older Sand Snakes were not only warriors, but trusted leaders of the Dornish people. The Dornishmen loved the Martells and Oberyn's daughters were included in that love. If they would champion any cause, they would follow them as Obara and Nymeria had shown at Casterly Rock.

"They'll round the armies of Dorne up if my brother permits and they will join forces with your brother to take this capital," Oberyn answered. That was the plan. It was always the plan. Doran knew of such a plan.

"No, if you lose a trial by combat, you lose and no one can stand against that," Sansa replied. "Dorne won't have a valid reason to fight against the crown and you'll have to take King's Landing without any of the Targaryen princess' dragons. That's why you mustn't lose. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly, my beautiful wife," Oberyn answered, kissing her one last time before laying her down next to him, finally coaxing her to sleep. "I won't lose. You have my word."

HAN: Hmmm, there are quite a few revelations in this chapter. I hope you like them all.

Oberyn's going to be in big trouble with Ellaria.

I also realized that I like Theon a little more now than what I used to.

Enjoy!