She saw a city of pyramids, standing like tall towers before the host that Mother commanded. The denizens of the pyramids were all gathered before them on the walls of the city. The humans there wore different skins. Some wore skins that were soft and supple, wrapped across their bodies in bright colors of turquoise, yellow and blues, but others had dirty, beige skins that were coarse. The latter wore metal collars at their necks, some on their front and hind legs. Mother seemed upset that they were wearing such things.
"Are they attacking?" Mother asked Jorah, her favorite companion that she had known for a long time. They had stopped before the gates of the city, and there were two statues of women that had bird-wings for arms, dressed in nothing but a strange hat that had two horns.
"A single rider," Jorah answered. "A champion of Meereen. They want you to send your own champion against him." As he spoke, a man on a white horse rode out of the gates, followed by the cheers and cries of his people. He rode to the left end of the gates and got down from his horse, shouting a jumble of words that she could not understand, but neither did Mother.
"What is he doing?" Mother asked as the man started to remove his skins, revealing his genitals.
"I believe he means to..." even before Barristan could answer Mother's question, the man started urinating before everyone to see. It was a disgusting display and mother rolled her eyes openly.
Mother's attendant, Missandei, who knew many tongues of humans, then started to translate his strange, garbled words. "He says that we're an army of men without man-parts. He claims that you are no woman at all, but a man who..." Missandei paused for a moment and continued after knowing that Mother would not like it if she withheld anything. "...hides his cock in his own asshole."
"Ignore him, Your Grace," Barristan advised Mother. "These are meaningless words."
However, Jorah begged to differ. "They're not meaningless if half the city you intend to take is listening to them," he reasoned.
Mother knew that both of them were right. "I have something to say to the people of Meereen," she proclaimed. "First, I will need this one to be quiet... Do I have a champion?"
One by one, Mother's human males started to gather around her, each one offering their services. Barristan went first. "Your Grace, I've won more single combats than any man alive..."
"...which is why you must remain by my side," Mother interrupted him. The fiercest human warrior should always protect Mother. It was a wise move indeed, she thought.
"I've been by your side longer than any of them, Khaleesi, let me stand for you today as well," Jorah offered.
"You are my most trusted advisor, my most valued general and my dearest friend," Mother told Jorah. "I will not gamble with your life."
"I was the last to join your army. I'm not your general, or a member of your Queensguard or the commander of your Unsullied," Daario Naharis said. "My mother was a whore. I come from nothing, and before long, I will return to nothing. Let me kill this man for you."
Although the others had volunteered, Mother felt it... interesting that he would do so as well. Mother never had a high opinion of him, probably because he was a man that Mother had always felt she should not trust. "Very well," she said. "You have quite an audience, make it worth their while."
"He is very brave, Your Grace," Missandei told Mother.
"Yes, win or lose, as long as the whole city is watching," Mother elaborated. She then walked towards her champion and asked, "You're sure that you don't want a horse?"
"Why would i want a horse?" Daario asked.
"Horses are faster than men," Mother replied.
"Horses are dumber than men."
The rider started to charge towards Daario with his lance straight. Daario just stood there, unsheathing one of his dagger, waiting for the rider to get closer. He threw the dagger and managed to hit the rider in the eye. When the rider fell, Daario took his arakh and chopped off his head.
The people on the city walls loosed arrows at Daario, but none of them hit him. Daario then loosened his skins on his legs and urinated on the arrows, to repay the gesture given to Mother and her army previously.
"Daenerys Jelmāzmo iksan. Kostilus jevi āeksia yno bē pirtra jemot vestretis, iā daoruni jemot vestretis. Daoriot jemas. Doriar udra pōnto syt eman. Mērī jemī ivestran," Mother told him in the Old Tongue. She was speaking to the ones in the city who wore beige skins, those with metal around their necks and limbs. She told who she was, and that she wanted to talk to them.
In truth, everyone could hear Mother. Those in colorful skins could too, and they looked fearful more than anything. "Ēlī Astaprot istan. Astaprot dohaertrossa sīr yno inkot iōrzi, dāeri. Hembar Yunkaihot istan. Yunkaihī dohaertrossa sīr yno inkot iōrzi, dāeri. Sesīr Mirinot mastan." Mother told them that she went to Astapor and Yunkai, and that the slaves there were free, whatever slaves meant. She was in Meereen now, to do the same.
She put two and two together. Humans who dressed in beige skins and metal were slaves. They could not go anywhere or do anything as they wanted. Mother wanted to secure their freedom. That was why she had taken the big boat from that beautiful garden to come to the cities which had slaves. "Jevys qrinuntys ikson daor. Jevys qrinuntys jemo paktot issa," Mother told them, reassuring them that she was not their enemy. Their enemies were standing right beside them. "Jevys qrinuntys jevor riñar laodissis ossēnīs. Jevys qrinuntys jemo syt mērī belma se boteri se udrāzmī ēzi." She told them that their enemies steal and murder their children, bringing nothing but chains and suffering.
One by one, the humans wearing bright skins started to leave. Fear. The city was rank with it. There were all kinds of fear. Fear for their lives, fear for what might happen to them. All eyes remained on Mother, her voice carried by the wind.
"Udrāzmī jemot maghon daor. Iderennon maghan. Se jevo qrinuntoti pōjor gūrotriri maghan," Mother continued. She brought them a choice, and she would bring the enemies of the beige-skins what they truly deserved.
"Naejot!" Mother shouted, and catapults were brought forth. The bright-skins all gasped. "Nābēmātās!" One by one, the catapults fired their ammunition into the city. The bright-skins and beige-skins shouted and cried for their lives, waiting their city to crumble.
It did not. It was the ammunition that crumbled. They were revealed to be merely barrels made of simple wood. One by one the barrels shattered against stone. Those in the city clearly expected something worse.
The bravest of the beige-skins stepped out and reached out for the things that came out from the shattered barrels. They were the things that the beige-skins wore around their necks, but it the styles of Yunkai and Astapor.
When Sansa woke from her latest vision, she was sure that Robb was not the only one who knew how to utilize the seemingly unused concept of psychological warfare. Daenerys Targaryen was able to do it as well, and with great effect. By catapulting slave-collars into the city of Meereen, she instilled the fact that slaves could be free to the slaves themselves. They would begin to doubt the hold that their masters had on them.
"I've learned two things from that vision," she told Doran and Oberyn in Doran's study, where they would be uninterrupted. "Her dragons understand Valyrian when it is spoken, and she is a brilliant tactician."
"As it always is," Doran said. "But I am afraid that Aegon the Conquerer was the only brilliant tactician and ruler. We often have rulers that have only one such quality and not the other. Fat Bob was a war hero, but he could not rule the Seven Kingdoms. Even your brother, Robb, had a bumpy start towards Kingship." It was a worrying trend, to have rulers who could only fight and not rule. "However, when Robert was King, the land was ripe with corruption and factions scheming against one another that he could not and did not stamp out, and Aegon the Conquerer had three fully-grown dragons and hundreds of dragon-eggs in his rookery."
"Fear and love go hand in hand in war," Oberyn reminded his brother. "Those who are wise are able to yield them well."
"We shall wait for reports from Meereen to come before we take further action," Doran said. "As it stands, Daenerys may or may not be able to take Meereen. If she does, Dorne must be ready to rally to her."
"What can we do to help her?" Sansa asked. "If she takes Meereen, she will only add to her list of enemies. Once the Lannisters know what we are up to, we'll need soldiers to protect ourselves, and to take King's Landing when the times comes for it."
Doran smiled. "Dorne has nothing to offer her," he said simply. "We are supplicants to the Silver Queen. We can only give her our support and our men. But you, my dear, Sansa of the North and Dorne shall offer her everything."
Sansa did not understand. "I beg your pardon?" she asked. "What did you mean by that?"
"My love, you are the only Greenseer and Warg that we have in our arsenal," Oberyn reminded her. "You've said it yourself, Sansa, you have a bond with Daenerys Targaryen and her green dragon that even she realizes. Go to her and guide her home."
Sansa knew that there must be another motive. Her being a Greenseer and a Warg could mean so many things to them. She could teach herself to spy on the Lannisters for Dorne or on Stannis for Robb... But yet, she would be sent to Meereen if it was taken by the Targaryen queen. Her blue eyes looked towards Doran and then to Oberyn. "Is that all?" she asked Oberyn. "Is that what my lord husband would command me to do?"
Doran shared a look with Oberyn. It was he who suggested it, and it would be he who would deal with any reaction that she had. Doran could only add his authority to the matter.
"It is to keep you safe, Sansa," Oberyn said, walking towards his wife, holding her shoulders in his hands. "We cannot know what is going to happen in the future, or how the Lannisters would react. All we know is that Westeros would become a bloodbath, and I cannot bear if you were hurt in any way."
"Are you sending Ellaria and the girls away as well?" she asked him. It was not envy that brought her to those words, he knew her well enough to know that. She wanted to know if he was purposely protecting her, as if somehow asking if he had doubted her and her ability to survive by his side.
Oberyn nodded. "They will be in Hellholt with her father," he said. "Sansa, I cannot risk the safety of any one of you. With you in Essos, and them in Hellhot with Lord Harmon, at least, I can assure you that you all are as far from harm as possible."
"You can't possibly think like that!" Sansa countered. "You don't know what it's like in Meereen. Maybe Daenerys would have me fed to her dragons after she knows that I'm Lyanna's niece? You can't see into the future..."
"But you can, my love," Oberyn replied. His voice was calm, resolute. He sounded just like when he was telling her that he would face the Mountain, and she knew from that experience, she knew that nothing she did would change his mind. "Have I ever let you down before?"
"You haven't," she answered. It was strange. When she had just come to Dorne, she was so eager to prove herself. Now, when the chance was coming to her, all she wanted to do was to stay by Oberyn's side. She was such a stupid, selfish little thing. She knew that she should not be contrary, that she should stick to the path that she had wanted for herself. Now that she was given the opportunity to spread her wings, she should be able to seize it. She wanted it so badly, and she could just taste it, the thrill of a challenge. "When will I be leaving?"
"We have been getting a ship ready for you," Doran cut in. "It is the Silver Storm, and by the first hint of danger, you are to sail upon it to Meereen. I have already sent a raven to your brother at the Wall, asking for his writing to ask for an alliance with Daenerys, and I will give you mine. Once again, you will be our Lady Ambassador, sister. Do whatever you can to convince her to return to Westeros."
"I will, brother," Sansa told Doran. "I will make the North and Dorne proud when the time comes."
Doran nodded. "I am sure that you will honor us all, dear sister."
That night, Oberyn spent the entire night with Sansa. Ellaria retired to her own chambers, citing that the Prince and the Princess had much to discuss with one another. "Volantis was a test, wasn't it?" Sansa asked her husband. "You all wanted to know if I could handle myself as an ambassador..."
"Your actions in Volantis brought the Volantene fleet to Lannisport, and transported your brother and his bannermen back to the North," Oberyn told her, kissing her forehead. "Without your care for your brother's in-laws, Triach Maegyr would not have made such a move." For whatever reason, Sansa took one look at Talisa's parents and knew that they would be worried sick over her. Perhaps it was her beating daughter's heart that brought her to such a conclusion, but the moment their hearts were lightened over the knowledge of Talisa's safety, Oberyn knew that their mission was going to be a success. "Robb had faith in you, and now you must have faith in yourself."
"Robb didn't tell me that he wanted a fleet of Volantene ships," Sansa returned. No one had said anything about sending a fleet to Lannisport. Robb had presumed that Talisa's letter would have sufficed. If he had told her, she would have taken the greatest care for the mission, she would not have allowed Oberyn to stop in Lys and in the Red Lotus at all. "It all just... happened so suddenly..."
"Which shows that you have the ability to think on your feet," Oberyn continued, looking directly into her eyes.
"You want to ship me off to Meereen at the first sign of danger, but what if anything happens to you?" Sansa asked him, almost staring him down. "Would you leave me in Essos, widowed and alone?"
"I plan to grow old with you, my love," Oberyn told her. "I plan to give you daughters of your own, or sons if you wish. Trust me, Sansa, I did not deliver you from that cesspool called King's Landing just to leave you a widow in Essos."
"Prove it," she said. It was a command, and he would serve. Gently, he pulled her above him and kissed her hungrily. This was his wife, a woman of the North, yet restive, made of steel, but not wholly ice. Politically astute, yet so young in her years, but wise enough to doubt herself. If she was willing, Oberyn would have brought the Seven Kingdoms to heel so that she would be Queen. But she did not have such wild ambition. Her mission to herself was only to find her place in this vast, cruel world. Let Robb avenge their father, let Arya become the warrior-woman of songs, but she, she would play her own part in the histories of the world.
It was different from all the times they had made love. There was no hunger, nor ecstasy. There was only love, a slow fire that filled them both. While they rode out their orgasms, Oberyn nipped at the lower curve of her right breast almost drawing blood, but not so. When that lovebite would heal, his teeth marks would stay. It was a secret, known only to the two of them. "If... you find a man or woman in Essos that suits your fancy, do not hesitate to approach them," he told her as she sipped her Moontea, "you are young, my love, you should take the time to explore... other ventures besides Ellaria and I."
"Maybe I shall," she said. There was no use trying to refuse him. She was no simple maiden. Simple maidens would become cross at his words, for daring to imply that they had no honor, that they would take it as an excuse to look for others. "Perhaps I should start with the Silver Queen's translator... She has curly hair so wiry that they stand on end, like the sun of your family's sigil, soft, brown eyes and a figure to die for."
"Such a woman, and she runs about with Unsullied and Queens?" Oberyn asked. "For shame..."
"Or maybe, the Tyroshi sellsword that tries to catch Daenerys' favor," Sansa continued. "He wields a Dothraki sword too..."
"We have arakhs in our armory, my love," Oberyn cooed. "Perhaps I should show you how it is used?"
Thus, they remained in bed, teasing one another, speaking of what might become in the battlefields of Westeros and Essos. Chaos was encroaching the world, yet they laid in bed, laughing. Sansa said that her brother would kill more enemies than he did, while he claimed that she would steal all of the Silver Queen's consorts from her. They talked until they slept in each other's arms, with promises of a fairer tomorrow, past the ash and the smoke.
HAN: The Valryian dialogue comes from Season_4_High_Valyrian_ Dialogue (remove the spaces). Many thanks for transcribing it!
I thought that it would be fitting that the dragons would think that the clothes people wear are skins.
Don't worry, we'll see more of Robb and Jon on the Wall soon.
Today's pop culture reference goes to the anime Ayashi No Ceres, which is quite an old one, but one of my all-time favorites. Oh, and LOTR: Return of the King as well.
Enjoy!