Arya thought that Robb would be inconsolable when Talisa died. She was wrong. Instead of breaking into tears, he looked after his son meticulously, even changing him when little Eddie soiled his nappies. He made sure that the wet nurses fed his son well, and that he would always have his father's company. Talisa's funeral had been a simple one. She was cremated and half her ashes were sent towards Volantis, along with a personally-written letter by Robb. He had dictated his message to Maester Marlan, who translated and transcribed it into High Valyrian and he copied the letter in his own hand. The other half of Talisa's ashes was interred in the Stark crypts. A statue was carved in her likeness, placed next to that of his aunt Lyanna's.

When the official mourning period was over, Robb said goodbye to his son and marched back towards the Wall. "Take care of Eddie for me, Arya," Robb told his sister, who was the last to leave in the honor-guard sent from Winterfell to farewell the army that was leaving for the Wall. "He is the last hope of the North." No word was sent of Eddie's birth. Not even to Dorne. It was decided between the Northern lords and their King's family that they would keep his birth a secret until their foothold was strong enough. News was sent to the Citadel proclaiming that the Queen in the North had died as a result of a terrible miscarriage, that the King in the North was now a young widower.

Arya nodded. "I will," she promised her brother. She knew that he trusted her. Ever since he had returned from the Wall, he had her by his side. He wanted her to learn on her feet as he did. He wanted her to learn how to govern a nation and not just a keep. With Bran venturing into the wild and Rickon in the Last Hearth, disguised as a refugee with Osha protecting him. In the end, it was their mother that decided that Rickon should remain with the Umbers, lest more harm comes to him in Winterfell.

"I'm counting on you for the defense of Winterfell as well," Robb told her, handing her a piece of parchment. "I am making you Lady Protector of the North until this war is over," he continued as she read the parchment over. "You will be the first woman in Westeros to hold such a position and the youngest too." He also knew that such a responsibility would be one that would ground her to Winterfell. She would not be as likely to go gallivanting around in her adventures, hoping that his attempt would actually work. "You know all there is to know about our home. You'll defend it with your very last breath, do you understand me?"

"I will," she said, gulping. It was an immense responsibility that she was taking on, and she knew that she would die before she let anyone down.

"That's a good girl," Robb told her. "I will be leaving Nymeria with you. I want you to listen to her, but also to trust your instincts when it comes to making decisions. A wise ruler always listens to what others have to say, but more than anything, they trust in themselves above others. Do what you feel is right."

"Robb, are you sure that you're alright?" Arya asked him after she hugged him goodbye. "You know..."

Robb sighed. "I'll be fine," he reassured her. "Childbirth has its risks. Talisa was a healer. She knew them too well. You're still so young, Arya. The people that we know and love would come and go and those that leave will still forever leave a mark in you. They are gifts, Arya. Always remember that." He said those words in earnest, through experience. All of them had been through so much pain and loss ever since their father left Winterfell, and he knew that Arya would understand what he said.

"She is a strong one," Obara told Robb as the honor-guard rode away. "She reminds me much of my sister Elia. Nym and that direwolf of hers are all she needs."

"I hope so," Robb said. "I leave Winterfell in the hands of my youngest sister because she's the only one I've got. If I could, Arya should have been freely roaming the wide world like my aunt Lyanna once did. They say that she is Aunt Lyanna come to the world again."

"The days forwards will only be harder, I fear," Obara warned. "With Stannis quickly approaching the North and the Wildlings descending upon us. We have much work to do."

Agreeing, Robb dug his heels into his horse's sides. "Then we must seek to reach the Wall in all haste," he said. The sooner they reached the Wall, the quicker work could get done.

It must have been a great shock to everyone that Dorne really had fifty thousand soldiers. Ten thousand of them were in the North and ten thousand remained in Dorne to defend their own lands. The rest of the thirty thousand were currently in open display in Sunspear. A military exercise meant for the eyes of Tywin Lannister. Of course, they would not march as of yet, but a few attempts in threatening the other areas were necessary. Doran watched from the balcony in his chair while Oberyn inspected every single rank of their men on horseback.

The smallfolk were cheering. They cheered for their princes and they prayed for a good outcome of the war. They had always stood with their rulers. They had known no other rulers nor would they stand for conquerers. House Martell had treated them well and so would they prosper under them. They would continue to support them because they saw no reason not to.

"The Princess should be here," Brienne bemoaned. "Or rather, I should have been on the ship with her."

"The Princess is off to convince some other princess to come back home," Bronn returned. "You wouldn't be of much help, I think."

Brienne glared at him. "Watch your words, Bronn," she warned him through gritted teeth. "You would regret them if you don't."

"Was I wrong?" he asked her. "Here you are, Sworn Sword to Princess Sansa Stark of House Martell, but she's all the way in Meereen and you're stuck here at Sunspear. When the fight comes, you're back to becoming a little common soldier."

"The Princess is away on a diplomatic mission to Meereen," Brienne emphasized. "Until then, I will do all I can to aid in the war. What about you? Without Lord Tyrion, aren't you a little common soldier too?"

Bronn merely nodded with a chuckle. "That's true, aye, but you don't know me very well, do ya?" he asked. "I was a cutthroat before I was a knight. So my station was practically elevated by becoming a little common soldier, technically."

Brienne looked as if she was going to punch Bronn in the face, tired of his countless tirades, but she was stopped from doing so by Ellaria. "The two of you are summoned by Doran," she told them.

Knowing that she could not disobey, Brienne lowered her fist and went with Ellaria while Bronn smugly followed the two of them. He rather enjoyed Dorne. He had taken to teasing Oberyn's third daughter, Tyene, every now and then and once earned a hard hit from her for insinuating that she had "fought pretty well for a little girl" during a sparring match.

When they got up to the balcony, Doran was already joined by Oberyn. "I have a small request to ask of the two of you," Doran told them. "Although no one would ever recognize the fact, but the two of you are among the best fighters in Westeros in your own rights. For that matter, Lady Brienne of Tarth and Ser Bronn of the Blackwater, I would have you to have formal commissions in the Dornish army if you would have them." Of course, he was emulating what Robb Stark was doing with his own Northern armies. It was a sign of not only respect, but also unity. Oberyn's daughters, Obara and Nymeria were now high-ranking fighters in the North, and he would do the same with them. "Lady Brienne, you will be known as Lieutenant Brienne and Ser Bronn, Captain Bronn, only because Ser Bronn has had more combat experience. You will both serve under my brother's banner."

Both of them bowed their heads low and thanked Doran. They turned to Oberyn and gave him polite nods of their own. "Captain, Lieutenant, I will expect our days of service to be very... interesting indeed," Oberyn told them.

"It'll be interesting if you add in some alcohol and some girls," Bronn suggested, much to Brienne's displeasure. "But... the lady would think that it is a bad idea."

"I shall be open to it, I think," Oberyn added. "But we shall have to see." He knew that Brienne would not agree to any debauchery that would somehow affect Sansa in her absence. "But there is still much more to be done. Captain, you are in charge of training the soldiers. We need them to be in perfect shape."

"Aye, Prince Oberyn," Bronn replied and got to the job immediately.

After he left, Brienne scowled. "Are you all sure that he'll do a good job as Captain?" she asked Doran and Oberyn as respectfully as she could. "I don't trust him. He's nothing more than a scoundrel."

"He might be a scoundrel, but he is one that has been behind enemy lines," Doran explained. "So long as we pay him better than Tyrion Lannister has paid him, his loyalty is ours. Besides, he is not without scruples. That is what he wants everyone else to think." To others, Bronn was simply a highly elevated cutthroat just because he killed the right people, but there were so many others like him in King's Landing disregarding the circumstances of their birth. What made Bronn different from the rest was his peace with his station in life. He openly admitted that he was a hired killer and was proud of it. It was this unapologetic outlook that what made the Martell brothers enjoy him so.

Still, Brienne's mind was not eased. "The Lannisters can easily outbid us," she reasoned. "Look, I'm not saying this because -"

"We know, Brienne," Oberyn told her, holding a hand up. "But have you realized what the Lannisters did when we accused them that Tyrion kidnapped Sansa? Precisely nothing. Where was the fury that they had when Catelyn Stark held Tyrion hostage? Where was the anger when Jaime Lannister was imprisoned by Robb Stark? The Imp means nothing to them, and even you would know it to be true."

"It would be a measure that Sansa will approve of," Ellaria added gently.

"Approve?" Brienne shot back. "The Princess is heading to Meereen without her prior approval. How would the two of you face her when she returns?"

Oberyn tried to give Brienne his most charming smile. "I will deal with the wrath of my sweet wife when that time comes," he told her. Of course Sansa would be infinitely displeased with him. He meant his words. He would take the brunt of her anger for the nature of her departure. He stood by his belief that she would be safer leaving first than if Dorne was attacked. "I hope that you understand, Brienne, that every decision I make, it is in the interests of Sansa. Ellaria would have had my head if she did not agree with me."

Ellaria only sighed. There were some things that she could not change particularly when Oberyn had made his mind. Like how he had decided to face the Mountain, he had already decided on Sansa's early departure to Meereen the moment she had volunteered herself to be the ambassador for the Stark-Martell alliance. However, she did not react the way she did when he told her that he would be Tyrion Lannister's champion against the Mountain. She knew that sending her away would be harder on him than anything. He had fallen into his own trap and had fallen so deep for Sansa that he was surely doomed.

"I'm sure that Sansa would be seething in rage, but she is doing her duty and so should you," Doran reminded Brienne, who bowed her head in deference. "You are dismissed, my dear." When Brienne left, Doran cast a knowing glance towards Oberyn. "She is right, you know. You could have at least not drugged Sansa before you put her on that ship."

"Doran, it is not for her that I did such a thing," Oberyn explained. "I fear that once she looks back, I would either join her or bring her back. I don't know what magic she has worked on me, but..."

"I do not know if it is a curse or a blessing that you have two women that love you and that you love them as well," Doran interjected, smiling at his younger brother. "Mother would have been proud of you."

"Mother... would most probably sit me down and have a very long conversation about consent and willingness," Oberyn recalled. "Father would have just hit me in the head. Sansa... nothing comes close to her, brother."

Doran chuckled. "If she would have wanted the Iron Throne for herself, you would be the one to fetch it for her, no?" he asked.

Oberyn did not need to answer. His face had already said everything.

When the ship had arrived at the docks just outside the city of Meereen, Sansa did not expect to have anyone welcome them, but in fact, they were met with Ser Barristan Selmy, who came with another horse. "It is good to see you again, Princess," Ser Barristan told her. "You have grown much since we last saw each other."

Sansa smiled. She would always remember the day when Ser Barristan was forcibly removed from his position as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Just after he was dismissed that she knelt before Joffrey to beg for mercy on her father's behalf. "You are too kind, Ser Barristan," she replied with a low bow. "I... didn't expect that the Queen would garner me such a warm welcome."

"It is always good to know a familiar face in a strange land," Ser Barristan replied. He then turned towards Tyrion. "Lord Tyrion, I am sorry, but as Princess Sansa's hostage, I must have you in chains."

Tyrion sighed and held his hands up. "Well, let's get on with it then," he said. He looked towards Sansa, trying to gauge her expression, but he found it to be quite unreadable. She rarely ever revealed any form of expression in court too, after Ned Stark was executed, now that he remembered it. It must have been her trying to put on her politician's mask. "Beautiful work on the pyramid though. I love the... bosoms of the harpies."

Ser Barristan then helped Sansa up her horse and had Tyrion on the same one as he did. "I will bring you to the Great Pyramid," he told the two of them. "Queen Daenerys has been waiting anxiously for your arrival, Princess."

"And we are all dying to see her," Tyrion quipped. "Tell me, Ser Barristan, how did you all do it? Meereen is one of the greatest cities of Slaver's Bay, enshrined in Ghiscari and Valyrian traditions. How is it that a handful of nobles from Westeros, three dragons and 8000 Unsullied take one such city?"

"Call it whatever you will," Ser Barristan answered. "Be it sheer ingenuity or sheer luck. The Queen had the idea to appeal to the slaves in the city. We fired slave-collars from Yunkai and Astapor above the city walls, and they turned against their own masters. She had the Great Masters crucified to posts after her conquest."

"Is the Queen open to the notion of an alliance with Dorne and the North?" Sansa asked Ser Barristan directly as the Great Pyramid loomed closer and closer. Meereen was a city unlike another: large, sprawling and beautiful. Its sheer scale could only have been possible by pure ingenuity and back-breaking work. The Meereenese engineers and architects must have been geniuses, but all that beautiful would not have been possible without the labor of the slaves that they owned and traded, chipping at the buildings, maintaining it through the centuries.

Ser Barristan looked towards Sansa and smiled. "The Queen was... surprised when Prince Doran sent us the missive that you were coming," he told her in all honesty. "She has only heard of rumor that there were those in Westeros that prayed for a Targaryen return. But now, the North and Dorne are rallying towards her... Her Grace has her hope renewed, so to speak."

There was a look of determination in Sansa's face then. They were terribly close to the Great Pyramid and Tyrion knew that things would certainly not go in all the ways that Daenerys Targaryen would like. He knew that the Starks and the Martells did want a Targaryen on the Iron Throne again, but Robb Stark had never changed his demands. Robb's goals had always been to secure the independence of the North. If that was true, then Seven Kingdoms would become Six. To add to the complications, Dorne was never conquered. It was married into the throne, which meant that if alliances were to be redrawn, Daenerys would have to settle with a mere Five Kingdoms.

Sansa's face had become one of steel the moment they stepped into the Great Pyramid. Ser Barristan expertly led them into the throne room, where Daenerys was seated upon a beautifully-crafted chair, on top of a platform of raised steps that resembled a pyramid. Beside the Silver Queen were Ser Jorah Mormont, the Tyroshi sellsword that she had seen in her visions and the Naathi girl that served as her translator. "You stand before Queen Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, the Unburnt, Queen of Meereen, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons," the Naathi girl announced once Sansa and Tyrion were at the doorway to the throne room.

"You may come closer," Daenerys said, looking at Sansa directly. There she was, the girl that appeared in her visions. She was taller than Daenerys had expected. Her hair held more red and her demeanor less... armored.

Ser Barristan was the one who announced her. "Your Grace, this is Princess Sansa Stark of the House Martell, the Lady Ambassador to Meereen from Westeros. With her is Lord Tyrion of the House Lannister, former Master of Coin at the Small Council. We believe that Princess Sansa comes to you with a Lannister hostage."

"Lord Tyrion is my hostage indeed, Your Grace," Sansa said, stepping forwards. "He is the brother of Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, who took the life of Your Grace's father during the Sack of King's Landing under their father's orders. He is yours to be done as you wish."

Daenerys nodded and smiled at Sansa. "You have given me a kingly gift then," she said and clapped her hands. Out of nowhere, two Unsullied appeared and started to take Tyrion away.

"Wait, where are you taking me?" Tyrion demanded and cast a look towards Sansa and then at Daenerys. "I thought I was going to be a diplomatic hostage, not a real one!"

Daenerys then halted the Unsullied. "Oh, was that right?" she asked Tyrion. "Tell me, why should the brother of my father's murderer be shown mercy, particularly by my hand?"

"I can be of use to you," Tyrion offered. "My Queen, you only have soldiers and sellswords to advise you. I was the Acting Hand of the King for a whole year and I was Master of Coin for two. I know a thing or two."

At his words, Daenerys nodded and Tyrion was set free. "Then a diplomatic hostage you shall be, Tyrion Lannister," she proclaimed. "And you, Princess Sansa, I heard rumor that your brother and brother-in-law calls for my return to Westeros. Is it true?"

"Yes, it is," Sansa answered. "They are waiting for you and your dragons, to come upon Westeros as your ancestor Aegon the Conquerer once did."

"Very well," Daenerys said. "You shall dine with us tonight, dear Princess. We are after all, family, are we not?" Her brother Rhaegar had married Elia Martell, who was Sansa's late sister-in-law. The relation was rather distant, but those were cards that the two of them were playing with one another and so she would play them well. She turned towards Tyrion and said, "You shall come along as well, I suppose."

"Thank you, Your Grace," Sansa and Tyrion said in unison.

"Missandei, please show our guests to their chambers," Daenerys continued.

"Yes, Your Grace," Missandei bowed. She quickly descended the steps and went down to greet Sansa and Tyrion. "Please, follow me."

HAN: Everyone, welcome Princess Arya, Lady Protector of the North and Princess Sansa, the Lady Amabassador, yay!

I know that it's hard to have Talisa dead, but things aren't over for Robb. Nope. I have something up my sleeve. Heh. heh heh.

Also, finally, Sansa gets to Meereen, how exciting! I have quite a lot of ideas now that she's there and you'll just have to read on to find out what they are.

Today's pop culture reference comes from Star Wars.

Enjoy!