Dorne had changed in these last few years from what he had heard. The Kingdom had always been overlooked - aside from their successful unions within House Targaryen and their ability to fend off dragons, nothing ever good had ever been said about it. Ned knew he should not take into account the rumors he heard about the Martells and their ilk since they were also the same who would not hesitate to disparage the North because of the Gods they believed in and the conditions they were subjected to.

The changes had barely been noticeable at first: but their wealth had increased drastically and it was impossible not to find a dornish product in someone's household these days, whether it was the cheapest salt available on the market, the grooming product they had created or even the innovations they had pushed through.

After the Greyjoy's Rebellion, which had helped improve his relationship with King Robert, his friend had sent him many letters bemoaning their improvement - he had been worried they were getting ready for war, or even independence, following the Iron Island's decision. He had wanted to reassure his friend, but the truth was that the Baratheon and the Lannisters were sworn enemies to the most open-minded region in Westeros and nothing stopped them from acting reprehensibly aside from Prince Doran's habit to bide his time.

Ned was not stupid enough not to believe they would take the former Princess' death lightly, especially since Aegon and Rhaenys had been brutally murdered while the perpetrators had been rewarded by the Crown and the Warden of the West. He could feel the bile rise in his throat each time he thought about the broken bodies he had seen on the steps of the Iron Throne while his friend glared at them hatefully, looking awfully like his predecessor, King Aerys. I see nothing, but dragonspawn. They could have made contingencies by marrying the girl into a loyal family or sending her to the Silent Sisters while Aegon would have been raised to join the Wall and swear an Oath that would prevent him from any idea of conquest or giving birth to any heir that might take revenge. Instead, they had created a weak kingdom with Dorne on the warpath, the Tyrells overeaching as usual and the only alliance holding them together was the combination of the Vale-Riverlands-North, and even then, it might not be enough.

Truly, the Quiet Wolf had no mind for politics, but he would be remiss in his duties as Lord of Winterfell if he did not take them into account.

When Robert had sent him a letter informing him that Dorne's good fortune was credited to Oberyn Martell's only trueborn daughter, he had felt out of his depth. He knew they were more progressive, but he had trouble imagining them taking into account ideas from a young girl the same age as his own heir. She was fourth in line in the succession and was considered as a Princess of Dorne and given anything her cousin had a claim to, aside from the Spear Throne. Learning her mother was Ashara Dayne had made him feel slightly jealous since he still remembered the fondness he had bared to her when he met her at the damned Tourney of Harrenhall, but he couldn't have imagined her married to such a ruthless man.

Her parentage had also stopped people from thinking of her as Jon's mother since she would have been married and bedded by the time - the pregnancy of a high born lady married to a Prince would not have been hidden lightly, and even then, the child would have grown up in Dorne instead of the North. It had eased his relationship with Catelyn since she had halted her jealousy towards a woman she barely knew and had gotten into her head that Jon's mother was not important enough to guarantee her doubts concerning their love towards each other.

When the Red Viper had sent a letter offering the hand of his precious daughter for an alliance between two opposite kingdoms by uniting their houses, he had thought to immediately refuse. He had already married South for a war - and there would be no reason for his son to do the same, especially since it would sow discontent within his bannermen. But the offer had been too interesting to offer much else: a great dowry - fit for a Princess of the blood, secrets to glass making which would improve the food stores in the North, a new invention called refrigerator which abled the food to be stored without fear of it turning bad…

He had even accompanied his letter by mentioning his daughters, Sansa and Arya, who each would enjoy spending time with a real southron lady and learn how to use daggers (respectively of course).

After asking his lady wife who still received news and gossip from the South, he learnt that Elia Martell (and if that was not twisting the knife into the wound at the reminder of the woman he had been unable to save) was a good friend of the Tyrells, which was surprising knowing the enmity between the two regions and had a Royce lady in waiting.

The Dornish Prince had also explained his reasoning: his daughter did not follow the Seven. Indeed, she had decided to follow the Dayne's Faith, which was why she wanted to marry into the North so she could continue on following the Old Gods without repercussions from her husband or his bannermen. It was already a point in her advantage since it would be imperative that his heir marry someone of the same faith as him: it was too complicated sometimes with Catelyn and her clear disdain of the Old Gods and her southron values. He could not offer his daughter to a Stark bannermen since she deserved nothing less than a Lord Paramount as her rank demanded.

She had wanted a southerner for a daughter in law, and even though a Dornish was not her first choice, at least she would be a princess. Many Lords had daughters they had presented many times to the Lords and Lady of Winterfell, such as the Manderlys, the Karstarks, the Cerwyns, the Hornwoods and Riswells to name a few. They had been considered of course, but the dowries were vastly different and brought different things to consider.

His primary issue was the reason behind their offer. Why would they want an alliance with the North? Were they planning a coup for the Targaryens across the sea? He hadn't heard about Viserys and the little Daenerys in a long while aside from a few rumors, but it wouldn't be so far-fetched for the Dornish to seek to bring back the disgraced Targaryens to reclaim their Iron Throne after all. The loss of their former princesses and the heir had been hard on them - and they seldom interacted with the other Kingdoms of Westeros as it was. Or perhaps…were they here for Jon?

The prospect was terrifying, especially since they would be more prone to getting rid of him for the slight Rhaegar had dealt them than fight for his right as their future King. He had done his best to hide the truth - even going as far as besmirching Ashara's reputation before the rumors of her death and the existence of her trueborn daughter were spread.

Robert had been in a frenzy when he heard about the name they bestowed her - Elia Martell . They were clearly announcing that they hadn't forgotten: sometimes, he felt guilt whenever he thought about the fact that Lyanna was heralded as the victim when in truth, she had been the catalyst of the war. Sure, Aerys had been mad, but up until she had decided to run away, everyone had seemed prone to forget about his state and accept his ruling. No one also doubted that Tywin must have found some grim amusement over the fact that the man who had spit all over his House and legacy had been brought so low by the Kingslayer while his dogs were murdering babes and traumatized mothers.

The Lord of Winterfell barely had time to ruminate over his thoughts before Jory Cassel informed him of the Martells' arrival. They had been close ever since the Rebellion when he had been one of the witness to his ceremony with Catelyn and he trusted him completely, especially to keep an eye on the dornish whilst they were in their midst.

"You seem tense, My Lord," pointed out Jory.

He didn't know what he could say: he saw the merit of such an union but he would not be as callous as to choose for his own son. At the end, Robb would choose who he wanted to wed and who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with - a courtesy that was rarely awarded to the Heir of a Great House. "Just preoccupied."

The gate opened for the Martell's retinue and he made sure to look at his lady wife and their children - even Jon was present, and for some reason, he thought Catelyn would have loved for him to leave with the Dornish since she likely thought his mother was from there. Robb looked a bit bored by the turn of events: he had no wish for a southern lady who would not conform to the way of their land, but he had promised to stay open-minded before refusing the match. His beautiful Sansa, his second child whom he had loved fiercely since she had been brought into this world, had adorned her prettiest dress and looked just like her mother had when he had seen her at Harrenhal for the first time. The most excited was surely Arya who had always admired Visenya and Nymeria - hearing rumors about how the Dornish let their women train and fight and how they did not disparage bastards because of their birth. She had always been close to Jon, which had angered her mother to no end, but she refused any attempt to separate them.

It was impossible not to recognize the Red Viper: rumors about him were flying, but none had ever doubted the love he had for his girls. If the rumors held true, he had nine of them and eight of them were from various women. His brother, the ruling Prince of Dorne, was far from bothered and Ned could not fault him for enjoying the presence of their blood within their trusted seat.

He had expected him to be accompanied by his famous paramour, Ellaria Sand who had borne him four daughters, but they were only tanned skin women with him, wearing trousers and looking as hostile as ever. It didn't take him long to understand that they were Elia's siblings - it was only fair for them to come to the negotiations, but he knew it might sour his wife's sensibilities. They were no wheelhouses, which surprised him - he had expected a proper Princess of Dorne to have one since every noble lady of such a rank would refuse to travel without it and suffer the long hours of riding with men - but he knew little about Dorne to understand how they ran things.

They had sailed from Sunspear to White Harbor, which would have taken at least a moon. Lord Wyman Manderly had received them with pomp and must have found a way to wriggle a few additional trades for his house as he had been notifying him of their presence. From there, it had taken a fortnight before they had finally gotten to Winterfell.

"PRINCE OF DORNE OBERYN MARTELL AND THE SUN'S TREASURE, PRINCESS ELIA MARTELL."

Catelyn and him exchanged a brief look, taken aback by how much those words mirrored the blasted tourney where everything had gone wrong. As he was about to inquire about the location of the princess, he noticed a fine sand steed advancing before a hood was dropped.

Fuck.

There was no Dornish Princess.

And to be so brazen with her looks? Ned knew she could not be Daenerys, and it flummoxed him.

She seemed to have followed his train of thoughts because she had almost lept from her horse before bowing so gracefully, even the Septa would've forgotten about her previous actions.

"It's an honor to be here Lord Stark, Lady Stark. The North is as beautiful as they say," she added, looking at them demurely - but Ned knew it couldn't be further from the truth.