Valaena Fireborn of House Targaryen has been in exile her entire life. Robert's Rebellion twenty years ago forced her and her siblings out of their home to Essos. Valaena was sold to Khal Drogo as his wife so her brother could use her husband's arm...
"Do you know what it is like to be sold, squire? I do. My brother sold me to Khal Drogo for the promise of a golden crown. Well, Drogo crowned him in gold, though not as he had wished . . . my sun-and-stars made a queen of me, but if he had been a different man, it might have been much otherwise. Do you think I have forgotten how it felt to be afraid?"
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"It is a pleasure, sister-in-law." The man extended a hand towards me.
"The pleasure is mine, brother-in-law." I smiled welcomingly at him as I took his hand in mine.
He raised my hand and delicately pressed his lips to the back of it. His eyes never left mine as he greeted me. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes and a smirk on his lips as he released my hand. There were only two men alive who would greet me as their sister-in-law. Prince Oberyn Martell and Prince Doran Martell. Doran is older than this man appears to be and suffers from gout, preventing him from travelling this far.
How in the seven hells is a Martell here, now? I sent that raven four days ago, it should have arrived in Dorne two or three days ago. That was not nearly enough time for them to receive the letter and arrive in Winterfell. The journey would take moons by land and several fortnights by sea. Prince Oberyn must have already been on the way here when I sent news to the Martells, but why?
"Is there somewhere we could talk?" The man's gaze travelled across the castle around us.
"Yes, of course." I turned my attention from the man before me. "Tormund, would you fetch Jon for me? We will be in the Great Hall."
Tormund nodded at me and turned to go find the King of the North. I led my brother-in-law through the courtyard and into the Great Hall with Kovarro following behind us. We both took a seat at the head table, leaving Jon's seat empty. Kovarro didn't sit at the table, he stood off to the side with a hand on the pommel of one of his arakhs. We didn't have to wait long for Jon to join us.
"Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne." The man, whose identity I correctly assumed, rose and offered a hand to the Northern King.
"Jon Snow, King in the North." Jon took my brother-in-law's hand and shook it.
He took his seat to my left, leaving me seated between the two men. I took the seat to Jon's right, Sansa's seat, as a sign of my position. If this was any other meeting, with people who didn't know who I really was, I would've taken the chair to Jon's left. This wasn't a meeting with anyone else, this was a meeting with people who knew I was a queen, and I needed my seat to show that. I needed my seat to indicate Jon was in charge here, and I was second only to him.
"What are you doing in Winterfell, Prince Oberyn?" Jon stayed quiet while I questioned our unanticipated guest.
"We got word that you were travelling and my brother sent me to welcome you to Westeros, Your Grace." Oberyn leaned back in his seat with one leg crossed over the other, clearly unbothered by the fact we weren't expecting his arrival.
