Theon had stayed on the Volantene flagship, the Jeweled Phoenix when the Lannister fleet plowed through the Iron Fleet. Their longboats were fast, and well-manned, but they were no match for the sheer number, desperation and fury of the ships of the Westerlands and the Arbor. They were swallowed utterly and he felt a twinge of guilt for not feeling... anything. Those upon the longboats were his kin, but he knew not their faces. He had been taken from the Iron Isles since he was a child. He knew them not.

"You don't have to look, you know," Robb told him as he came up next to him. "I know that it's hard on you."

"You know what happened at the Dreadfort?" Theon asked Robb. "I was locked in a cage with the dogs and my sister, Yara, came to save me. I was so beaten and so afraid that I didn't dare to go, and they left me behind. After they left, Ramsay Snow got me don my old armor and go to Moat Cailin, where the rest of the Ironborn were. He flayed and slaughtered every one there..."

Robb squeezed Theon's shoulder. "I shouldn't have sent you back to your father," he told Theon. They were good friends, brothers in arms, and now Theon had to watch his homeland being decimated, in vengeance for what they had done for the North and the Westerlands over the generations. He would not have known that Balon Greyjoy would force Theon to turn his back against Winterfell. No one could have known that Roose Bolton was plotting the downfall of House Stark with the Freys.

"Nothing can save them now," Theon said, listening to the cries of his kinsmen. "My father got what he deserved. He should have given up after the first time he rebelled."

In another corner of the ship, Talisa put her hand to her growing belly and sighed. "So much carnage has been dealt by land and now by sea," she said to her sister-in-law, Arya. Her grandfather's right-hand, Khazdan was next to her, prepared to defend her in any eventuality. He was also to act as the commander of the Volantene forces, so as to protect Volantene interests in the North. "Do you not wish for one day where it all ends?"

Arya shrugged. "The Ironmen took Winterfell and burned it to the ground, they drove my brothers north of the Wall. They deserve it," she said. There wasn't any fury in her words, unlike that found in several of the Northern lords. She had spoken as though she had stated mere facts. She was playing with a coin in her hand, a coin that Talisa knew to be Braavosi in origin. When Arya noticed that she saw the coin, she said, "I met a Faceless Man who helped me escape Harrenhall, and he gave me this coin should I want to learn what he can do."

"The Faceless Men are devotees to the Many-Faced-God," Talisa nodded. "They say that their god is the God that everyone prays to, however different their religions. He is the God of Death in countless cultures and so forth. A Faceless Man is incredibly hard to find, sister. You are incredibly lucky to have called one a friend, and to have been offered apprenticeship... it would be a hard road even for the stoutest of hearts."

"I wanted to go with him," Arya said. "But I know I couldn't." She looked towards Robb and Catelyn, and then back at the coin. "My place is with my family, and I'll do everything to get back at the people who tore us apart. I really would." Robb had told her that Roose Bolton would have had them all killed if they had gone to offer their uncle Edmure to the Freys instead. It was a plot that was luckily deterred by Robb's alliance with the Martells. She could not imagine how she would have been if she knew that her family was murdered. She could not imagine the pain and the grief should it actually happen.

Talisa smiled. "Keep that coin with you, though," she said. "It might come useful in the future, but... it would be wise that your mother doesn't know of it as of yet." Arya understood her words, and nodded. In a way, she was relieved that both of her sisters-in-law had taken to her so kindly. Robb once mentioned that Arya and Sansa often fought with each other, but it would not seem the case now. "You will find your place in this world, Arya, don't worry." She gently held Arya's shoulders as the Jeweled Phoenix sailed pass the burning remains of the Iron Fleet.

"I bid you farewell, Ser Kevan!" Robb called towards the Lannister flagship, aptly named the Lion of the Seas. "May you and yours be well!"

"I say the same to you, King Robb!" Ser Kevan replied from his ship. "May you return to Winterfell and never come back south!"

Robb nodded curtly and turned back towards his mother, wife and sister. "So that's it, we're heading home."

"The Starks and their bannermen have sailed north, my lord," Varys reported to Tywin in his office. "They have left Casterly Rock for good, as it seems."

Tywin dropped his quill. "Sailed north?" he repeated.

"He seems to want to answer the raven sent from Castle Black," Varys said. "The North is very sympathetic to the cause of the Night's Watch, and such a tradition would not die with Robb Stark, now that he has regained his hold over the North, and now that the Twins now belong to Lord Jon Umber, who is well-armed to withstand years of siege."

Tywin rolled his eyes. "Yes, as my brother Kevan as reported, he has rearmed and resupplied his men with Lannister gold," he said. "No doubt that he has used our ships to sail north."

"No, I'm afraid not, Lord Tywin," Varys said. "The Lannister fleet sailed against the Iron Islands, but they returned to Lannisport after they had sacked and pillaged their fill. Balon and Victarion Greyjoy are your brother's prisoners, and the fleet is intact."

"Then how did Robb Stark sail?" Tywin demanded. "He couldn't have conjured a fleet by snapping his fingers, could he?"

Varys took a deep breath and continued. "No, he didn't," he said. "However, the Volantene fleet was spotted at Lannisport, bearing the colors of Triach Maegyr. It would seem that Robb Stark's Queen, Talisa, is the Triach's granddaughter..."

"You said that Robb's wife was a girl from Volantis," Tywin said, eying Varys sternly. "How could your little birds miss the fact that she was near royalty?"

"My apologies, my lord, but they spotted her moving from battlefield to battlefield as a healer," he said. "Such action is unheard of among ladies, much less, near-royalty among Volantene standards. No one could have known that she was a noblewoman."

"Yet, she can command her grandfather's fleet at will, it would seem," Tywin said. "What of the Riverlords, did they go with their new king?"

Varys shook his head. "No, they returned to their keeps," he said. "They await further orders from Robb Stark."

With Robb Stark going back up North, it would have seemed that it would be an opportune moment to retaliate upon the Riverlands, but Tywin knew better than that. Robb had reorganized the ranks of his kingdoms. Some Northern lords were given castles in the Riverlands and some Riverlords were given castles in the North. It was so that no matter where he went, he would have eyes and ears on his territories, and his men were well-armed to defend the positions he had left them to.

"Should we thank Robb Stark for having Kevan get rid of the Ironmen?" Tywin grumbled.

"No, my lord," Varys replied. "However, it is rather... surprising, is it not? The boy is young, and inexperienced, but he controls the North and the Riverlands, and has occupied the Westerlands for months. He then throws it all away to head to the Wall. Don't you wonder what is going through his mind at times?"

"The boy is a fool to leave Casterly Rock," Tywin said. Although Robb Stark had pilfered Lannister gold for his own uses, it was not the worst damage that he had done there. The worst was how he had seen it fit to grow fast-growing crops alongside the smallfolk, and helping them store the harvested crops for winter. He had bought what he needed from the smallfolk, and used his own provisions. It was not only the "right" thing to do, it was the smart thing. The smallfolk now had the taste of an independent, seemingly benevolent lord. Whatever the Lannisters did would now seem different to their eyes, and they could have won the scorn of the smallfolk if they did anything that the Starks did not do for them.

It would seem that Robb Stark's simple form of warfare, to capture the hearts of his men and those around him was the most brutal form ever.

"Yes, my lord," Varys said. "If he cannot come back south before the weather turns, he would be stuck in the North under all that snow. None of the Northern lords would ever follow him down here even if he could march."

"Let's hope that the Wildlings do him in then," Tywin said. "Then we'll have one less king to contend with."

Sansa and Oberyn's return to Dorne coincided with her formal presentation as a new Dornish princess. So, instead of Planky Town, the Evening Star weighed anchor at Sunspear. Sunspear was the administrative capital of Dorne, where the main palace of the Martells was built. They had been prepared for it, and Sansa had worn a gown suited for the occasion. It was the color of wine, a dark red that was cooler that of her hair, the neckline plunging with a wide, gold-plated belt with white gems. Instead of shoes, she wore leather sandals that wound up her shins, and her hair coaxed into braids that made her feel like a Dothraki khaleesi instead of a Dornish princess. Oberyn was dressed colors that mirrored hers, of yellow-gold and shining, red embroidery. He was a paragon of Dornish style, from his long tunics, his undershirt kept purposely unbuttoned to reveal his sculpted chest and that silver chain and pendant upon his chest, down to his ceremonial dagger and snake-tongued boots.

The people were calling her name, waving tiny flags made of small sticks and paper, in the colors of Houses Martell and Stark. They were cheering for her and Oberyn. Sansa knew that Oberyn was well-loved enough by the Dornishmen, but she did not know the scale of it altogether. "See, they love you already," Oberyn whispered into her ear. It was Sansa's first public appearance in Dorne, as Princess Sansa Stark of House Martell, and it was quite an irony because she had just completed her first official duty in such a capacity in Volantis.

She regarded them nervously. She has had experience in crowds, but she had not have so much attention upon her. She had survived a riot, she had been in two different coronations and a royal wedding and two royal funerals... She had never had the eyes of the public upon her before. Gulping, she took Oberyn's hand when he offered it, and walked down the gangplank with him. Brienne stood behind them, in ceremonial Dornish armor, looking as out of place as Sansa was.

There was a carriage waiting for them at the bottom of the gangplank, and they entered the carriage, which took them through the one-mile long distance between the Castle Sunspear and the docks. Throughout the journey, there were rows and rows of people cheering for her and Oberyn. Sansa felt a huge weight upon her shoulders. She had done nothing to earn their love, and she knew that she would have to do everything to keep their love. With Doran's wife, Mellario of Novros returned to her homeland, she was the Princess of Dorne. Sansa's head was swimming.

Surely, Oberyn would have already noticed what kind of notion that had settled into her head. "Take a deep breath, and try to relax," Oberyn said with a smile. "Sansa, this is only the beginning."

Sansa looked paler than she ever had been. "I will try," she replied. Such a reaction had come from her Northern upbringing. The North ruled in fairness, and it ruled in relative equality. Sansa's first reaction to meeting his people was her concern on how to continue to making them happy, a quality that would have most certainly been absent in other ladies. It had been Robb's first instinct as well the moment he had taken Casterly Rock. Oberyn remembered that the remaining Lannisters there were treated with utmost courtesy, and the smallfolk in the Westerlands given proper protection. The Starks knew how to rule, and they ruled with the heart. That was why he was sure that Sansa would have been an excellent princess for his people.

By the time their carriage stopped, Sansa had already started to smile. She was already developing another mask. It would be the mask that she would wear for her husband's people, perhaps for her own if she would return to the North one day. It was a mask only a princess would have, one of beauty and serenity and was the one that she would wear in public. With Oberyn, she turned towards the people and waved back. Hand in hand, she and Oberyn walked up the stairs that would lead them to their family. Doran right there, in his chair, his legs covered with a blanket to hid his gout-riddled legs from view. Doran was flanked by the rest of the family, Ellaria and the Sand Snakes to his left, Trystane and Princess Myrcella to his right.

Sansa was greeted warmly by her stepdaughters. The younger ones had missed their schoolmate and the older ones their sparring partner. Ellaria had gave her a sweet, tender kiss and Doran held her hands warmly. "Welcome home, sister," Doran said to her, kissing her cheeks and she did him. "Was your trip to Volantis productive?"

"It was, brother," Sansa answered. "The sights and sounds... the Long Bridge and the Black Walls, they are all wonders of the world."

Doran listened to her words and chuckled. "Indeed," he returned. "Perhaps one day, you and Oberyn should visit the Great Pyramid of Mereen."

After a few more waves and smiles, the Martells retreated back into Castle Sunspear. Sansa had been there before, but only briefly. They had stayed the night after they departed from King's Landing, and went straight towards the Water Gardens. It was only then did Sansa's second mask fade and Tyene was allowed to at least chuckle at her teasingly. "You should have seen your face, Sansa!" she said, sitting next to Sansa on a chaise. "Are you alright?"

"I have never experienced such a sight," Sansa replied.

"The population of the North is sparse, no?" Trystane offered. "It is no wonder that you are not used to such crowds."

Sansa nodded. "Yes indeed, Trystane," she said. "However, I can say that there could be more people in Volantis."

"It's beautiful there!" Sarella said. "When we heard that you and Papa were allowed behind the Black Walls, we weren't even allowed to touch the walls, much less get over it..." The wealth of the Martells and the relative freedom the Sand Snakes had meant that they were perfectly able to travel to the Free Cities. The proximity of Dorne to some of the lands in Essos would not be a deterring factor either.

Myrcella threw an envious look towards Sansa. She had been told that Sansa was in Volantis to give gifts on behalf of Robb Stark under Doran's instruction, as a form of goodwill, and was sworn to secrecy about it. "You are so lucky to get to on a tour of the Free Cities, Sansa," she said. "I can't wait until Trystane and I are wedded so we can travel like you and Oberyn."

Sansa nodded. "Soon, dear Myrcella," she said. "Volantis isn't going anywhere, though."

"How is Triach Maegyr?" Doran asked Sansa. "I heard whispers that he was not pleased that his granddaughter married a Westerosi lord." They had to be careful when they were around Myrcella.

Sansa shook head. "Oh, he wasn't pleased at all," she answered, making a great show of forming a frown to Myrcella. "He says that we Westerosi are barbaric creatures in our clanging armor. Her mother was in tears that she couldn't come home."

Myrcella shook her head. "But they're the ones owning slaves, aren't they?" she asked Sansa. "Who are they to call us barbaric?"

Sansa could only shrug at Myrcella's words. "Cultural differences between Westeros and Essos are rife and prominent," Oberyn said. "But you would be surprised how... similar we actually are. You can't imagine that the Volantenes would pay a great price to for our wines and fruits, and Myr actually buys sand from our deserts to produce their intricate glass."

Luckily, Myrcella had relented. "Well, we're always at war," Myrcella said. "Perhaps they're a little right about it. But wouldn't it be strange, speaking for a sister-in-law that you haven't seen before?"

"It was strange," Sansa said. "I had to tell the Triach that Robb loved her, that she would be happy with him..."

"Sometimes we'd have to lie for the greater good," Myrcella summed up. "But I'm glad that you don't have to put up an act like that here."

Ellaria discreetly rolled her eyes at the irony of the situation, but Sansa remained smiling prettily to her slightly younger counterpart. A new truth was more and more evident, that having Myrcella there in Dorne was an increased risk if the Stark-Martell alliance was to stand. When Myrcella and the Sand Snakes were excused from the gathering, she said to Sansa, "The little lioness had been very, very curious about your travels."

"She's just trying to be friendly," Sansa reassured. "Myrcella doesn't know what her family is capable of. She's been shipped here ever since Joffrey got on the throne..."

"And we have been guarding her, giving her cooked meat so the little lioness would never have the taste of blood," Oberyn added. If Myrcella had even made a peep, then Dorne would be at the mercy of King's Landing and the Northern armies would not be able to reach them in time. Their cover would not be blown until Daenerys Targaryen crosses the Narrow Sea. "It is best for us and herself that Myrcella is being kept in the dark with all these things. I fear that the truth would kill her one day."

Sansa nodded. Already she was rumored to be a child born of incest, a Lannister bastard instead of a Baratheon princess. There was a very real possibility that the truth would kill her.

HAN: Strangely enough, we are looking at Arya and Sansa (as well as a tiny bit about Myrcella), which explains the title of the chapter.

Robb's going North might or might not be a good thing for him. Remember, there's still Stannis to contend with. DUN DUN DUNNNN

Today's vague pop culture reference is from Kingdom of Heaven.

Enjoy!