Daenerys was looking at a couple. They were in a room that was ornately decorated, and by how it had been built, she guessed that it was Volantis, where she had lived briefly in her younger days. She had not seen the male before, but she knew that she had seen the female. Her hair was red like fire, her eyes blue like the sky. This was the girl that she had drawn absently before, one that she was sure Rhaegal had somehow seen before. Sansa Stark. It would mean that the male must be her husband, the Red Viper, Oberyn Martell.
Ser Barristan had told her that Oberyn Martell was many years older than Sansa, in all actuality, he seemed to be older than Drogo when she had married him. But like Drogo, he was a tender lover. She could see it by the way he had caressed her cheek, the way he twirled her hair in his finger. They did not partake in any sexual activities, but had remained in each other's arms, just talking. For whatever reason, she was being uncertain. She could not hear what they were talking about, but she could see into their eyes. There was love, and only love. She remembered what it felt like, when she had laid with Drogo. Just looking at them made her stomach lurch. They were beautiful together, fitting onto each other like a glove. However, she could feel that there was some resistance on Sansa's part. Her brow was slightly furrowed, her expression uncertain. Doubt surrounds her, Daenerys deciphers, and her lover was trying to dispel them. It was not difficult to be so envious of Sansa, for having such a love.
For whatever reason, Daenerys continued watching them. She watched them as they lazily rose from their beds, and got more than a close look of their bodies. Oberyn Martell was the perfect, sculpted warrior, of which she was used to see with the men of her khalasar often being similarly built, only of slightly lighter skin, but Sansa. She had never seen anyone so fair, having hair so red. She heaved a sigh of relief, when she thought the size of her own breasts were larger, although she did not know why such a comparison was necessary. Power. Sansa Stark exuded power, and she knew it.
She looked on until their eyes met. It was as though Sansa knew that she was looking at her. Daenerys could have sworn that Sansa had nodded towards her...
When Daenerys blinked, she was in her tent again. Rhaegal was sitting next to her, silent and still, as if he had been the one giving her that vision. "What do you have to do with Sansa Stark, little one?" Rhaegal shrugged, tilting his head to a side. Nevertheless, Daenerys sighed and scratched the underside of his chin. How could she refuse such an adorable gesture?
"She was... there," Sansa told Oberyn once they were back onboard the Evening Star. "I could have sworn that she was... spying on us." Her mission in Volantis acting as Robb's ambassador was a great success, and judging by the Volantene ships that were closely behind their ship, Robb would be absolutely pleased with the results.
"But she is making her way to Mereen," Oberyn reasoned. "Targaryens are many things, my love, but not Greenseers."
Sansa sighed. "I know, but for whatever reason, I felt her," she said. "I've not even met her yet but still..."
"Perhaps, you are the intended soulmate to the Silver Queen," Oberyn teased. "Poor Ellaria and I will have to slink back when you leave us for her..."
"That's not funny," Sansa returned with a slight pout, bristled by his teasing. "It really isn't."
Oberyn chuckled. "Alright, alright," he said, giving up on his plot to rile his wife. "The Targaryens weren't Greenseers like you, but they often had Dragon-dreams. Rhaegar thought he had them, and perhaps, they would be similar to Greenseeing?" However, it did not explain why there was this... bond between Daenerys and Sansa that has gone beyond mere contact. They were not only able to see one another, but they were able to feel one another. There was no text, no scroll in the Citadel that could accurately describe such a thing.
"No one would have ever believed me," Sansa said. "But don't you think it's funny? Magic disappeared when the dragons were gone, and now, when they're back, magic's came back..."
"Well, you won't be wrong," Oberyn said. "The dragonlords of Valyria were not only warriors and enterprising slave-owners, they were sorcerers. Everything with their name had something to do with something magical or mystical. That is why so many secrets that only they had were lost after the Doom of Valyria. It would seem that during the time when they did rule the Freehold, the Children of the Forest still remained in some parts of our world, imparting their knowledge to your ancestors. But... that was all they could teach us back in the Citadel. I cannot tell you more than what I already know about it."
Oberyn had rarely told her of his days at the Citadel. He often said that they bored him, which was why he found that being a Maester was not his calling at all, but there was nothing more. "What chains did you forge, Oberyn?" she asked him, out of pure curiosity.
"Silver for medicine and healing, lead for poison, gold for economics and copper for history," Oberyn answered. "Learning all that... bored me, really. It would bore you too, my love. Those in the Citadel spend hours upon hours listening to old men at their lecterns, speaking about the subjects of their expertise, memorizing every bit of information you could take from dusty scrolls. To forge a link, you must first go through an enormous amount of tests that they will mark with red ink, over and over... It was hell for me." He did not expect for his wife to giggle, though. "What's so funny?" he asked.
"You must have a short attention span then," she quipped. Her husband was a well-known warrior and infamous seducer of men and women. If he had decided that he would resume his old occupation as a sellsword, or perhaps he would whore himself out, she had all the confidence that he would be richer than the Tyrells if he would so apply himself. "You're not the studious kind, aren't you?"
"Did you take that long to notice?" he asked her sarcastically. "It was a wonder that I could actually manage to stay in the Maester's schoolroom as a child." He had her right where he wanted her, at the bow of the ship, his arms so cleverly snaked right on her bustline. "However, I do have other talents..."
Sansa nodded. "I am aware of them," she replied, not needing any thought to pick up his meaning. She could already feel his arousal, brushing her back ever so slightly. "However, you'll have to wait," she told him.
"Wait?" Oberyn sulked. He had never recalled Sansa asking him to wait before. Not after such an overt attempt in seducing her. She was usually receptive to him, and would easily melt into his arms without any effort.
"It's... that time of the month," Sansa replied, moving Oberyn's warm hands to her womb, hoping that he could feel how the incessant, dull pain there that would not stop until she felt as if she had been bled dry. During this time of flowering, she would wear a special cloth over her womanhood to catch the blood and whatever else that would emerge from her womb. That cloth would be tied to her hips to secure it in place, and washed frequently.
It was strange to him, to have her so docile during this time. Ellaria was a fiery woman, and during the time of flowering, she would be even more fiery. He would always be on his toes, for the slightest misstep could mean provocation. When he had Sansa about that, she only rolled her eyes and groaned. "I'm just so... drained throughout the ordeal," she explained. "And I'm afraid to sit for too long, or else everything would just..."
"Come gushing down?" he helped her to finish her sentence, noting her expression of surprise. "You forget that I am a father of eight daughters, Sansa." He particularly remembered that Elia's flowerings were the worst for her initially. She would bleed through her dresses sheets that she would lock herself in her room and sit on her chamberpot naked when she could no longer bother to change.
"I love you," she proclaimed, turning her face towards him so that she could kiss him. Those three words had meant a lot of things in that moment, but relief was the chiefest of them. Her first flowering had been particularly trying for her, for the Hound had chanced upon the bloodied bed and had no choice but to report it to Cersei. It marked her as a woman, as a woman that could already be bedded... She had lived in fear for being accosted by either Joffrey or anyone else after that. It was why she had never thought of her monthly flowering as a particularly... pleasant experience.
Oberyn returned her kiss, deepening it as time passed. "And I you," he replied. There were no other words that needed to be said between them.
Robb looked at the pieces of parchment in his hands. Both came from Castle Black. The first was a formal plea. Maester Aemon of the Night's Watch had asked for reinforcements, that a wildling army was making its way towards the Wall. The Night's Watch could not possibly defend the Wall with the hundred thousand wildlings that Mance Rayder had summoned under his hypothetical banners. They needed more men. The other, was an informal one. Jon Stark (Robb was surprised that ravens about Jon's legitimization actually reached Castle Black at all) had returned to Castle Black after a range with Lord Commander Jeor Mormont. However, he was the only survivor of that mission and was kept under lock and key, for it was suspected that he had turned his cloak. However, the good Maester had added a personal footnote that Jon was actually sent into the wildling army to act as a spy.
"What are you going to do?" Talisa asked him with practiced ease.
"The Wall is the last defense we have against the wildlings," Robb said. "If they get through the Wall, there would be no hope for Westeros."
Catelyn looked at her son. He looked just like Ned when he was perplexed and she already knew her son's decision before he would make it. However, she also knew his dilemma. If he left the Westerlands and the Riverlands, it would mean that the dominance that he had fought to keep over Tywin Lannister would have been for naught. The months that they had spent in Casterly Rock would have gone to waste if Tywin Lannister was able to return to his homelands after they had left.
"The weather's turning," the Blackfish added. "If winter sets hold when we're done at the Wall, the Northern lords wouldn't want to go back down South to meet the Targaryen princess."
Robb nodded somberly. He had withheld going back to Winterfell, to regroup for almost a year for this sole reason. They have been fighting away from home for too long. They were Northerners in the south, and they had missed their families. Unless he would move the North into the Riverlands and the Westerlands, there was little that he could do.
"What about Jon?" Arya asked her brother. "Aren't we going to save him?"
"Jon's a brother of the Night's Watch," Robb said. "His fate is in their hands." The Night's Watch were sovereign over their own. If Jon had somehow escaped them, he would have to execute him even if Jon was his heir. He knew that there was no other way.
"How are you going back up North?" Edmure asked. "The Wall is thousands of leagues away from us by land and if we go by sea, we have the Iron Islanders to deal with..." Balon Greyjoy and his Iron Fleet would be difficult to deal with if they were engaged by sea. For all the talent and men that he had, Robb was short of ships. The fastest way to the North would be by sea, but he was sure that the Iron Islanders would not give them easy passage home. He knew that he could not try to enter the North by the eastern coast as well. Stannis Baratheon was still licking his wounds in Dragonstone, and now that he was no longer supporting Stannis' claim for the Iron Throne, there was no reason to ever meet him. No, their course would take them to the Sunset Sea and land at Deepwood Motte. From there, he would deposit his family at Winterfell and he would march onwards to the Wall. At least, that was the plan that he had suddenly come up with...
"Take the Lannister ships," Theon said, bringing Robb back to the conversation at hand. "Take every fighting vessel at Lannisport and crush them." In another time, he would have balked at such suggestion, to mount an attack on his own birthplace.
Robb shook his head. "Even if we had those ships, we wouldn't be able to use them," he said. His words had meant that if he was going back up North at all, he would be using the sea. "We need people who know these waters, and how the Iron Islanders fight in their own territories..."
Realization dawned upon him when he looked out the window, directly at Lannisport. "Theon, get Captain and Lieutenant Sand. The three of you are to assemble all the lords at the high noon three days from now. I want all of them there, no exceptions," he told Theon, who nodded and raced out of the chamber immediately to summon Obara and Nymeria.
"Robb, what's going on?" Catelyn asked her oldest son. She did not like that look on his face. Every time he looked like that, he had some harebrained idea that could possibly have them all killed.
"We're not going to man all those ships at Lannisport," he said. "But someone else will. No other lords hate them more than the lords of the Westerlands."
On the third day, an assembly of lord from the North, the Westerlands and the Riverlands had convened at the town square. All of the lords were seated in a large, covered pavilion, row upon row. They sat where there was space. There was nothing to differentiate themselves from one another save for their own arms and banners. Robb and his family as well as his inner circle were positioned outside the pavilion, under the sun. He, Theon, Edmure Tully and the Blackfish stood while Arya, Catelyn and Talisa were given chairs, flanked by Nymeria and Obara.
"My lords, I imagine that you would have already received a raven from Castle Black, written by Maester Aemon himself," Robb said. "Wildlings are advancing through their lands and to ours. They would reach the Wall and attack it. If the Wall is breached, all of Westeros would fall to the wildling armies."
"So you would have us march to the Wall and fight them there?" Ser Kevan Lannister asked Robb. "We are in war ourselves, King Robb. You have taken all of us in the Westerlands hostage, have you not?"
"I have, Ser Kevan," Robb replied. "Have I not been a kind guest though?" he asked in return. "We grow our own food, we help the smallfolk wherever we can..."
"Yes, and you have used our gold to rearm your men," Ser Kevan returned with some amount of bile. "Should we thank you for not eating us as well?"
Robb was silent, looking at him directly in the eye. In the absence of Tywin Lannister, Ser Kevan would be the head of the Lannister family there at Casterly Rock. There were precise instructions not to give the old man a hard time. Robb was not Oberyn, he did not have charm or charisma, although he tried to develop some. He knew that if he was to level the playing field, he would have to use talents of his own. "Ser Kevan, my men dine on what we have bought from your markets, not your men," he replied truthfully. Those were plain words, but they were the truth. He had completely bypassed Ser Kevan's first complaint, hoping that no one would notice. "But I return to my first question. Have all of you received word that the Wall needs assistance?"
"What do you want to do about it, Your Grace?" a lord from the Riverlands asked.
"Well, I have a proposition for the lords of the Westerlands," he said, eying them all. "If you would agree to what I am about to propose, we will bring all our forces back to the North. The Riverlords will go back to the Riverlands and so on."
There was silence everywhere. The lords of the Westerlands looked towards one another and Sandor Clegane furrowed his brow. Was he a northern lord now, or was he one of those fools? Since Robb was the one who gave him his Letters Patent, it had made things... quite complicated. However, he knew that wherever Robb went, he had to be, so, maybe he would be a new lord of a new keep in the North then, or was he?
"What do you want of us?" Ser Kevan asked Robb.
"I'll need you to empty all your warships at Lannisport and direct them to the Iron Islands. You don't like them, you hate the Iron Islanders. They've raided your ships for long enough, and it's time to put at end to them once and for all," Robb answered plainly. "Gather your allies from the Arbor at the Reach for all I care."
"And what would you do after that?" Ser Kevan pressed on. "Take us off our ships and make for the North on them?"
"I will have my own ships," he said in full confidence.
"The North does not have any ships," a random lord exclaimed. "What are you going to do, swim up the Sunset Sea?"
Robb looked towards Talisa with a wide smile, and his queen chuckled openly, causing Catelyn and Arya to look at each other in utter alarm. They did not know what Robb was planning at all, nor did they expect that Talisa had any part of it.
Horns were heard, horns coming from the sea, their sounds being carried by the wind up to Casterly Rock. One by one, the lords left the pavilion to look for the source of their sounds. Lo and behold, they saw ships bearing Volantene colors right before their eyes. There were about 120 war galleys, armed to the teeth, surrounded by various other vessels. Volantis had answered the call of the North.
Robb was smirking from ear to ear, while even Theon looked overwhelmed. It was only did then Catelyn realize the working of his mind. Robb appointed Sansa as his ambassador so she could bring a message to Talisa's grandfather, a message to ask for Volantene ships. It was a gamble that had paid off well, and the fact that the Night's Watch had asked for their help only added to Robb's resolve to return to the North.
"So you see, my lords, I won't have any use of your fleets," Robb told the lords of the Westerlands. "I have my own."
HAN: Awww, did you all think that Robb will be staying at Casterly Rock for long? The Starks are going back up North, baby!
Whoever thought that the discussing that time of the month would be so... romantic. Trust me, if you are a girl, you'd understand.
I wonder what would happen when Dany and Sansa meet...
Enjoy!