"A letter from Sansa, Papa," Tyene told Oberyn, giving her father a sealed envelope bearing Sansa's personal seal. It was one that he had made for her, the exact replica of the pendant that he gave her. "She also gave a formal report to Uncle Doran."

"Good girl," Oberyn said, and patted Tyene on the head. "Now, let us see what your stepmother has seen and done in Meereen."

My dear husband and beloved Ellaria,

I have arrived safely in Meereen just two days ago. I must say that this place is beautiful as it is menacing. We reside in the Great Pyramid with Her Grace, who styles herself 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. She surrounds herself in a council of sorts: Ser Jorah Mormont is her main general, while Ser Barristan Selmy is the Lord Commander of her Queensguard. She is also further supported by Missandei, a lovely girl from Naath who is capable of conversing in 19 tongues, Grey Worm, the commander of the Unsullied as well as Daario Naharis, a Tyroshi sellsword that now heads the Second Sons. Daario says that you freed him from the Meereenese fighting pits and brought him to the Second Sons. Is that true?

"Did you really free a pit fighter before, Papa?" Sarella asked Oberyn, coming up to him as he read Sansa's letter out loud.

Oberyn chuckled. "Yes, I did," he told his daughters. "Daario was small but fast in those days. He was so scrawny that no one ever thought that he would win, so I bet on him. I used my winnings to free him and I deposited him with my old sellsword company."

Daario has prying eyes. I believe that the Queen has allowed him to approach me to spy on me. Perhaps to chase after my skirts so as to know me better. Maybe I should play into her own hand to see what more that she thinks of me. My husband, do I have your permission? Wait... I already do. I will seize the opportunity when I have it, I think. Since you want me to explore the pleasures of the world, I think I just go through with it, if I must.

I have also taken good company with Tyrion. He is witty and clever and I think that he hopes to see himself as the Queen's Hand sooner or later. It would be a good station for him, I think. But... if he is the Hand, then what should I be? He is not as... violent as the rest of the family is. Somehow, I believe that Tyrion is another chess-piece on the board that will tip the scales. He seems to know something, or see something. He hasn't told me about anything yet, but I trust in my instincts.

Oberyn. How do you traverse through politics as though you know everything? How does Lord Baelish do it? Do you have a depository of information that you keep with you at all times? How do you act according to each possibility? I'm just a stupid little girl and I can only act according to how others would act. If only I was like Lord Varys with little birds all around me...

I eagerly await your reply,

Your loving wife, Sansa S.M.

Once again, Sansa had proved that she was not only wiser beyond her years, but was an able maneuverer worthy of many snakes in King's Landing. She had an intuition that was even greater than what Greensight can give her and she knew how to use it. Oberyn read and reread the letter over and over again, until he heard her voice in his head. Tyene and Sarella had left and he sat in his chair. His young wife was in a foreign land, accomplishing all that she has set out to do. Did he miss her? Of course he did. He would fight, fight until his very last breath right up till the moment where he would meet her again, probably astride a dragon.

"How I wish I could see her in Meereen, with that cold, courtly face she wears, staring down the Targaryen girl," he told Doran, when he was summoned into his brother's office. "Imagine the tension between them."

"Your wife puts immense pressure on herself," Doran told Oberyn. "She's only been in Meereen for three days and she gives me... this..." Doran gestured towards the small pile of letters that Sansa had written. Among them were sketches of the city of Meereen as she could see from the Great Pyramid and then Great Pyramid itself. There were profiles of each of Daenerys' advisors, what they have done, who they were and what she thought of them.

Oberyn sighed. "My wife loves you more than I," he said. "Look at what I've got." His letter was only a page-long.

"Sansa knows her duties well," Doran said. "I praise the Gods that we got to her first. Imagine if Littlefinger's plan to bring her to the Vale succeeded... We would have suffered many terrible defeats, dear brother. Now, she is safe in Meereen and we won't have to rely on others for information. Please, tell your wife that she is in Meereen also for her safety. Nothing good would come of it if she overworks herself."

"I will remind her about it," Oberyn nodded in agreement.

"You must be very proud of her," Doran added.

"I am," he replied. "Perhaps Robb Stark is too, and her father, if he is watching her from wherever men like him go after death."

Daenerys was walking with Missandei in the courtyard when they heard the sound of clashing steel. The Unsullied never practiced in the courtyard while Daario hardly sparred with Ser Jorah or Ser Barristan. However, all three of them were there, including Tyrion and Grey Worm. Grey Worm seemed to be sparring with what seemed to be Sansa, dressed in strange leather armor. She also bore what seemed to be a long dagger with a bejeweled hilt.

She was impressive to say the least. Ser Barristan was yelling at her, teaching her how to move while Jorah cheered her on. "Your princess is an interesting thing," Daario said to Daenerys. "She's not only a diplomat, but she wields the dagger quite well."

Sansa held her dagger with a backwards grip, the jewels on the hilt glittering in the sun. She was quick. Her blue eyes were clear like the sky and she looked at Grey Worm with more than just the blank expression that she wore when she first met them. It was the look of determination.

"I thought ladies in Westeros never learned to fight?" Daenerys asked Ser Jorah.

"The women of my House fights," Ser Jorah answered. "However, they are a rarity. Princess Sansa here was taught to use a dagger by her husband, Prince Oberyn Martell. That is why she fights in the Dornish style."

"What is the Dornish style?"

"The Dornish value speed, accuracy and agility, Your Grace," Tyrion explained. "They ride fast horses and wear leather armor. Man and woman have equal standing in Dorne, and so it is with their warriors."

"But we are not sending Sansa to the front yet," Daenerys said, sensing Ser Jorah's misgivings about her skill thus far.

"No, Khaleesi," came the reply from Ser Jorah. "But we can depend on her to defend herself if needs be. That is already a great boon."

The spar ended when Grey Worm was able to point his spear directly at Sansa's throat. They shook hands and he said in halting, accented Common Tongue, "You are a fighter not bad, Princess Sansa."

"Thank you," Sansa replied with a smile despite the errors in his grammar. She would have done the same in butchering High Valyrian if she even tried to do s. "I know that I'll need a lot more practice if I am going really to see any real action."

"Dagger is good to protect self from harm," Grey Worm said. "Your teacher must be powerful warrior."

"Her teacher is Oberyn Martell, one of the greatest warriors in all of Westeros," Daario told Grey Worm. "He is known as the Red Viper because he poisons the tip of his spear."

Ser Barristan frowned at such a description. "Those are merely rumors, Daario," he said. "I do not think it is wise to speak of the prince in this manner when the princess is here."

"It's alright, Ser Barristan," Sansa said. "It's true anyways. Oberyn did poison his spear before he fought the Mountain back in King's Landing. The same goes with my third stepdaughter, Tyene Sand. Her daggers are laced with a specific toxin from Asshai that kills within minutes." She saw Missandei's eye widening, but she immediately started to stammer. "Lady Missandei... I didn't mean... I don't..."

At those words, Missandei smiled and reassured her no harm was done. "You need not worry, Princess Sansa," she added.

"The Mountain was the one that killed Elia and her children, wasn't he?" Daenerys asked Sansa, to which she nodded. "Was it a fearsome battle then?"

"It was," Sansa admitted. "I thought I was never going to see Oberyn again... The Mountain was at least one and a half times larger than him and his sword was almost as tall... But, in the end, they are all avenged and Tyrion's name was cleared, and it is all that matters."

"Oh yes, you were accused of killing King Joffrey, weren't you, Lord Tyrion?" Daenerys remembered.

"Yes, Your Grace," Tyrion said. "I seem to have the strange luck of being tried for crimes that I've never committed and escaping them with trials by combat. I am either cursed or I have the best of luck."

"You were lucky because I seduced Oberyn the night before," Sansa said. "I made sure that he wouldn't lose his calm while fighting The Mountain." If she had been back in Winterfell, even saying those words would have earned great gasps and hushed any hint of conversation, but luckily for her, they were not.

Daario laughed out loud while Ser Barristan shook his head in mirth. "That is how every man is ruled by their women," he said.

"What is 'trial by combat'? Grey Worm asked.

"Come, Grey Worm, I'll tell you all about it," Tyrion offered. "It started when I was minding my way down the Kingsroad when..."

"Who would imagine that a Stark and a Lannister would be such great friends?" Daenerys asked Sansa. "You and Lord Tyrion seem to have a good rapport if I don't say so myself."

"Your Grace, I am the Stark who married a Martell," Sansa said. "I would think that I am the anomaly in my family."

Daenerys put a hand on Sansa's shoulder. "That may be, but you have travelled further than any other Stark have. That itself is a tale worth telling. I have considered, and I will meet with you and Tyrion to discuss politics and other plans tomorrow. For now, just enjoy what Meereen has to offer you. Have Daario accompany you if you wish."

"I would like that very much," Sansa replied, nodding to Daario in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Your Grace."

"And this... is the Great Pit of Draznak," Daario said to Sansa, bringing her to the large circular building not a great distance away from the Great Pyramid. "You will only know that you've truly made it in life as a fighter when you have fought here."

Sansa reached her hand out to touch the outer structure of the pit. She could feel the horrors and the anguish suffered in the pit. As long as her hand was on the stones of the pit, she heard men and beasts screaming their death-throes. "Much pain was suffered here," she commented, her expression almost unreadable to Daario. "However, there is also much joy, as though... it is derived from the suffering..."

"You can feel all of that just by touching the stones?" Daario asked her.

"More or less," she replied. "Did Her Grace tell any of you about anything that she has seen herself?"

Daario hesitated. He looked to her as if he did not know whether to divulge any information to her. Seconds later, he set his his jaw and sighed. Running his fingers through his hair, he sighed. "When we were moving out from Yunkai, I saw one of her dragons belch out a ball of fire. Everyone who saw that ball of fire saw your likeness in it. It scared the Queen so much that she didn't talk for hours," he said. "Ser Barristan thinks that there is some sort of... bond between the two of you."

"Still, I've yet to earn Her Grace's trust," Sansa said, knowing that the situation around her.

"Don't worry about that," Daario told her. "I don't either."

"You want her, don't you?" she asked him, looking into his green eyes with her large blue ones. "And you can't have her until you have something about me."

With those words, he snaked an arm around Sansa's waist. "So, what do you think, princess?" he asked her. "We have a job to do, don't we?"

It was exhilarating, being backed into the outer walls of Draznak's Pit in full view of the public, in the arms of the man that she had barely met. There was a very least a spark of attraction between them, and she knew that her heart was already starting to race. It was the proximity between them, she thought. If there was one thing that she had learned, it would be to judge a person's current mood by looking at their eyes. Even when her husband was a highly sexual being, even if Oberyn was capable of having moments of dark rage, she felt as though he actually had eyes that were rather soulful and melancholy, which matched him perfectly. Daario, in comparison was harder to read. He had a playful glint in his eye but there was nothing more. He was actually a puzzle to her, which made so much sense as to why Daenerys did not trust him as of yet.

"We should get back to the Great Pyramid first," she reminded him. "If the Queen ordered you to come after me, then perhaps we should at least be seen or heard doing it."

"An astute suggestion, princess Sansa," Daario replied and offered his arm to her. "Wait... wouldn't your husband mind?"

Sansa chuckled and shook her head. "When we stopped over at Lys, he brought me to the Red Lotus and bought three prostitutes: two girls and a boy. He purchased their services and would have had me joined them if I hadn't told him that I only wanted to watch," she recounted.

"So, you have never been with anyone else other than your husband and paramour?" Daario asked just after they entered the Great Pyramid.

"No," Sansa answered.

"Then we'll need to fetch lots of wine, and you'll need to come to my rooms," Daario said. "What? You can get a lot of sun at my balcony."

Twenty minutes later, they were both lounging on low, wooden chaises on Daario's balcony, sipping wine and some kind of fruit brandy. "This is really good," Sansa said after taking a sip of the brandy. She had never been one to drink alcohol, but ever since she had started doing so after she had found Oberyn and Ellaria, she had never looked back.

"It is a mix of oranges, lemons and sweet limes," Daario told her. "Yes, the chief exports of Dorne can be found in Meereen. Do you like it?" Sansa could almost feel her cheeks burn up. Was there any possibility that he had found out that she had a weakness for citrus fruits? Was she so easily read by others? "Did I say anything wrong?"

Sansa shook her head. "Oh, no," she said. "I was just... surprised," she added.

"That's a ltitle strange, coming from you," Daario continued. "Any fool can tell you that Dorne is where you get the best of these fruits, and you're a Dornish princess... But that is not why you are surprised, isn't it?" At that moment, he knew that there could be something more behind that facade that she had maintained. "You had not known even the simplest of kindnesses before you met your husband, haven't you?"

There was a deep sigh from Sansa and at the end, she relented. "I was a political prisoner in King's Landing, the capital of Westeros. My father was executed for false charges of treason and I was kept alive to that my brother wouldn't dare do anything that would disrupt the peace. When he won victories against the crown, I was beaten by the King," she admitted, her expression turning into her cold, courtly one. "Then for whatever reason, my husband reached out to my brother to join in an alliance to fight against the crown. The first condition was that he would marry me and the second was that we would join hands with the Queen when she reaches Westeros."

She stood and walked towards Daario, parted the top of her gown and turned her back towards him. He must have looked at her scars for a long time because it felt as though an eternity had passed until he had leaned his head against her back. "The King that did this to you is cruel beyond measure," he said. "I heard from Jorah that Khal Drogo melted a pot of gold over the head of Her Grace's brother, just because he pointed a sword at her. Even a slave here would not be beaten thus without just cause."

"It doesn't matter any more," Sansa returned. "King Joffrey is dead and my father is avenged. All that matters now is that the Queen and her dragons move to Westeros so we can destroy our enemies together."

"Then you are in luck," he replied, kissing the back of her neck. "Her Grace has decided that she would end all slavery in Essos before she sails home. I wish you luck in convincing her in doing otherwise."

"That's why I need you to help me," Sansa said, turning towards him, completely removing her gown the moment their eyes met. There was determination in her eyes, a cold light that was sharp as a blade. At that point in time, Daario realized that the Westerosi propensity to reduce everything into dualities was made clear to him. Sansa was the very personification of Ice. She waited and baited. She presented challenges to those around her, beckoning them to accept them like a blizzard that hid the prospects of shelter. On the other hand, Daenerys was Fire. She burned and destroyed until there was nothing in her path.

Both women were equally dangerous. Both women equally beautiful and young. Power ran in their veins and Daario wondered if he was a fool to even dare court either one, let alone both. Since Sansa was there and she was willing, he would take the chance of bringing her to his bed. He just hoped that she would not slit his throat with that beautiful jeweled dagger of hers after.

HAN: Yes, I am a tease. I know that. But I've gotta say, both Sansa and Daario know that whatever they're doing is so that they can advance in their plans. Dany wants Daario to test Sansa and Sansa lets them have their way. Is Daario really interested in Sansa? Nope not really, it's just sex because hey, why not and because his boss asked him to. ^_^

How do you like what I've done with the Meereen crew though? I'm so sorry that I left our dear Torgo Nudho out in the previous chapter. I KNEW I was forgetting something.

ENJOY!