[Chapter Size: 3700 Words.]

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Thrid Person POV

Dorne, 295 AC.

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Jon headed to the feast after leaving Nyra Sand behind, returning to the artificial lighting of the lamps and the sound of the bards’ music, while all the Dornish nobles were sampling their wares with his minister still conversing with them, explaining their functions and curiosities. Jon, despite feeling a bit odd about his interaction with the Targaryen girl, still looked on with satisfaction as the man from the North seemed to be handling the nobles splendidly.

“This is really good! I’ve never felt anything cold in my life, and to think that such a sensation existed!” said a lady to her equally surprised husband.

“My throat! What a strange sensation…” another Dornishman spoke wordlessly as he sampled the Dornish wine, which until then had been drunk warm, now with ice that melted into his drink as the temperature dropped.

“This is truly revolutionary! To think that we could experience this kind of luxury!” the man said.

Jon continued to listen to the nobles’ conversation, but he wouldn’t call it a luxury; ice was cheap, the advantage was the quantity Jon could bring. He didn’t want to limit it to just noble consumption but also wanted the common folk to have access to the masterpiece of the icy lands. ‘But that will have to be discussed in the trade meeting and speaking of which…’ Jon looked towards the main table, where Doran was speaking with his son, pointing at him. Doran, who had imagined his niece having success and speaking with Jon, was a bit disappointed as he left the balcony alone, not long after Nyra had gone to him, then proceeded with the plan to hold the meeting with the man from the North, since Nyra hadn’t managed to get any information from him.

Jon saw Trystane Martell approaching him before he returned to his table.

“Lord from the North. My father, Prince Doran Martell would like to congratulate you on the success your products are enjoying among the guests and wishes to start the trade meeting.” Trystane said courteously.

“I understand, let me summon my people. And show me the way,” Jon said as he moved towards the center of the feast with Trystane accompanying him.

“Lord from the North. Your sister is a rare beauty,” Trystane continued alongside Jon, and he almost rolled his eyes at that. ‘This guy wants to court my sister, through me?’ he murmured internally.

“Well… I can’t say the same for our father, so Arya was lucky to inherit our mother’s beauty…” Jon said just to say something, while the Dornish prince seemed to laugh at that.

Trystane finally ceased his laughter with a comment. “That’s great… perhaps one day we can be relatives,” he said pleasantly, and Jon just shrugged, it would depend on Arya, not even his father would have the final word.

Jon approached his minister.

“Minister Junly,” Jon called him, interrupting the conversation he was having with some nobles, and he turned to Jon respectfully. “My king, Prince Trystane,” he said, nodding his head.

“I need you with me, as we negotiate with the head of House Martell, can we borrow him?” Jon said, turning back to the nobles jokingly, with a few polite smiles, they nodded politely.

Thus, Jon went to the main table, where Doran was already leaving with his guards, daughter, and brother.

“Do you want to come with me?” Jon asked his wives.

“I’ll stay, Jon. I want to stay inside,” Ygritte said feeling a bit nauseous, and Jon nodded.

“Can you stay with her?” Jon asked Seryna, who nodded without a problem.

“Now… you will come with me,” Jon said to Arya, at least she would participate in the negotiation as a listener.

“Yes,” Arya responded calmly, as she got up from her chair to follow Jon, if she noticed Trystane looking at her, she pretended not to.

They proceeded to leave the banquet while some royal guards from the North took care of their wives, Jon noticed that Nyra Sand was also on the way, but did not wait for them as she followed a guard to the location, as well. Approaching, he saw the girl entering a door as they followed,

“Lady Stark… If possible, would you like to have a dance with me later? I would be honored,” Trystane said, speaking to Arya.

“We can see that, Prince Trystane,” she said, more out of politeness than interest, and Jon didn’t mind them. As they arrived at the door, Trystane’s guard, who was accompanying them along with the royal guards and the two ministers besides Jon and his sister, opened the door. Jon saw they would be negotiating on an open deck with a section open to the natural light of the night sky, lit by some candles and accompanied by wine with Arctic ice.

“I see you’re already getting used to my products,” Jon entered with the group and observed calmly. There was a small table between two Dornish sofas, one already occupied by Doran Martell, his daughter, his sister, and Nyra, just sitting down while their guards stood behind them. However, his last son, whom he had seen at dinner, was not there, leading Jon to believe that Doran did not regard him as very important in the family.

“It’s hard not to want after the first taste,” Doran commented with a small smile. Jon approached and began to sit on the opposite side. Nyra seemed not to look at him much, trying not to stare. The Arctic group began to settle down, with Jon in the middle between his sister and his ministers while the Arctic warriors stood behind them.

“I’ve been wondering all day how they can wear those armors all day long,” Oberyn was the first to speak, interested in the guards’ armors. “The heat bothers us less than you might think,” Jon spoke calmly. Oberyn was not offended, just laughed. But Jon turned his attention to Doran. “Well, shall we begin?” He said, and Doran nodded.

A servant began to serve them, with ice and wine. “I would like to drink the whiskey,” Jon said, looking at the bottle hidden on the table. The man nodded and began to pour for him. “Our wine is not to your liking, Lord from the North?” Trystane said, already settled on the opposite side.

“It’s not that I dislike your wine, but a matter of habit, a good whiskey for a good negotiation,” Jon said, taking his glass with ice and stirring it before putting it to his mouth. “Well, as you wish,” Doran started on the main topic. “The Martell family is very interested in your products. We want to negotiate them at a fair price that we can pass on to our buyers across Westeros,” he spoke calmly.

“For all of Westeros?” Jon raised an eyebrow. He knew the snakes would be greedy, but this was too much. “I was thinking of keeping them just up to the borders of Dorne,” Jon said but kept a neutral tone. “Well, if you want to negotiate the exclusivity of Dorne to keep your products for the seven kingdoms, of course, we can reach an agreement,” he said again, while Arianne, Nyra, and Trystane just stayed silent, as Oberyn had a small smile on his face. Arya seemed angry, but Jon had taught her to keep a poker face and just listen until she was called upon. The ministers had raised eyebrows but stayed silent, waiting for their king to deal with them.

“That depends…” Jon said, taking his glass and bringing it to his mouth. “Are you willing to freeze the prices? After all, as a supplier, my goal is for my resellers to sell with a profit of 40%, nothing more than that,” Jon spoke. “Even with logistics, are you willing to do that, Prince Martell?” “That would certainly be unfair, but you could make an exception for our family, couldn’t you?” Doran asked again, frowning. “Impossible, the Arctic has a set of trade rules, we will cease to supply our products, and especially our ice, if the end customer has to pay more than 40% over the provided price,” Jon said with a firm tone, looking the prince in the eyes. “But that won’t be bad, as we can profit from selling to noble houses and even luxury inns,” Doran said.

“This product is intended for the common folk, Prince Doran. We can sell more luxurious products, however, the ice will be priced low. You must understand that this kind of commodity is not about a high percentage gain but about the volume sold. You’ve seen how the nobles are fascinated with this masterpiece, imagine it among the common people. You will sell tons and tons of ice every month just in this city. Even with a profit margin of 5%, you will become so wealthy that money concerns will be beneath you,” Jon gave a brief lecture. He knew the potential of this product, and so did the other side, but they were limiting themselves to thinking about profit per sale volume and focusing on quick gains, which Jon considered a very limited mindset.

“You’re right, father,” surprisingly, it was Nyra who said this, breaking the silence as she saw Doran lose a bit of his smile. “You will earn more by making 20% on ice than you would by doubling your profit but only selling to other nobles. The Arctic company is willing to sell at a low cost too, since it’s not a product that’s hard to obtain, right?” Nyra spoke, looking at Jon with a more neutral expression than she could muster.

“Yes, we only have the cost of logistics since we have to bring it from the other side of the continent, and the men willing to leave their families in the Arctic and undertake such a journey need to be well-compensated,” Jon advised. After all, even though his people were not very interested in gold yet, the economy would be crucial for the Arctic to interact with other kingdoms and for its own development. Any civilization in the world needs good incentives to grow.

Jon was not foolish. After years of studying various types of governments across different eras, he saw that every civilization needed something. The Arctic didn’t suffer from hunger or cold, and its people were happy, but that wasn’t enough. They needed to thrive in other areas, hence the opening of trade. The Arctic is not just already the wealthiest city but will surely become the commercial hub of the known world.

With this journey, they would open the first Arctic company and start selling its shares. Jon intended to keep the majority of them but would place capable people in charge of managing them and eager to enrich themselves. Even the Arctic farms and forges would be commercial, with their people negotiating and selling their products.

The Arctic people would have to pay for their products, but that was nothing, as it would teach them to work and create profits. These products were just the beginning. Jon envisioned his people innovating the market on their own, creating their products, and improving existing ones.

Now, setting aside the opening of the Arctic economy, Jon looked at his listeners. “This is our agreement, and I intend to do this across all of Westeros. But I would not recommend you want to monopolize ice in Westeros. It won’t be profitable under our rules,” Jon warned.

“And how do you plan to maintain an ice stock? Will these boxes keep the water frozen forever?” Oberyn asked.

“No, we will have to continuously rotate, moving in and out of our ships. However, I will also need a place within the city to maintain a building for storage. I need to construct it with Arctic materials, so I plan to purchase this piece of land,” Jon elaborated.

Doran, though reluctant, eventually yielded and moved on to another topic, which was beverages and textiles. They began a game of offers and counteroffers. “You may find it expensive, but I have a system of promotions every moon to distribute them. You can offset your price with this, but remember, these beverages are not like ice. They are scarcer and of even superior quality, and you know this. You won’t find anything better beyond your wine,” Jon said, causing Doran to frown. Dorne was known for selling its wine throughout Westeros, and now with these Arctic beverages in Westeros, it would certainly hurt their profits.

“You know that many nobles won’t be happy with the sale of this type of beverage,” Doran said in the end.

“I can’t say that’s not true. However, they will still profit from our other products. I just can’t say that you will earn more gold outside of Dorne,” Jon said, maintaining his poker face. In the last few minutes, he heard a lot from Doran about wanting to lower his prices, aiming to maximize Dornish profits.

“I’m sure we can find a way to lower those prices…” Oberyn murmured by his side.

Jon looked at him and nodded. He had his own cards to play and waited to saturate his negotiators enough to find an opening where he could propose some of his ideas while they were in a more persuadable state.

“We have a proposal,” Jon spoke and pulled a scroll from his pocket, passing it to Doran, who unrolled it and began to examine its contents.

“This…” Nyra by his side, looked stunned.

“What is this?” Arianne asked, and Doran almost looked at her with disappointment, unlike her cousin who seemed to understand.

“A port…” Trystane spoke, leaving Doran prouder of him.

“You want to build a commercial port on Dornish land?” Doran asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, we want a commercial port, guaranteeing an even lower price, which addresses most of your complaints in this meeting. Even though your wine may no longer be an exclusive product for Westeros, you will still profit even more from our products,” Jon spoke.

“And you will profit even more from this…” Oberyn said.

“This is the trade system,” Jon did not deny.

“You already have the location picked out… You’ve studied our lands? I thought this was your first time in Dorne, Lord from the North,” Trystane said, still looking at the scroll.

“And it is… but I have my ways of knowing these things,” Jon said. He had sent his two magnificent eagles to scout the Dornish coast and find the best spot, after all, a port here would be strategically excellent for his company, acting as a bridge between the south of both continents.

“With the port built in Dorne, I’ll ensure a price better than the rest of Westeros, after all, we’ll have lower logistics costs. I’m sure Prince Doran can see that,” Jon said again, looking at Doran.

Doran looked at him, putting the scroll aside for a moment… “You’re good… alright, let’s negotiate your port, but it won’t be for free. We need to sell the land; otherwise, many will say we’re making it too easy for you,” he said.

Jon gave a small smile but kept his poker face, “I couldn’t take it for free even if I wanted to, that’s good. Let’s start with a 20-year contract,” Jon suggested.

The negotiation continued with Jon discussing the construction of the site. Doran and Jon kept discussing until they reached an agreement to concede a 2-kilometer space on that coast to Jon with a 15-year contract, employing at least 30% of Arctic people. Jon agreed, as long as they only take care of the port and storage and do not board the commercial ships for any route, that was fine by him.

“As we still need to apologize for the incident at the port, I will lower the price of Martell family land in the city for the next 15 years,” Doran said, and Jon nodded, which was a lower cost for him.

“Now with that, we can ask for some things from Dorne,” Jon said.

“What would that be? The sand you suggested?” Doran asked.

“More than sand,” Jon said. He had negotiated for ice, now Jon wanted some things that Dorne could offer.

“What would that be?” Doran asked, raising an eyebrow, hearing for the first time Jon’s interest in something beyond the sands of Dorne.

“I want as many tons of iron as you can sell me. I see you have animals raised in the desert like sheep and cows; I want everything you can put on my ships,” Jon said, leaving Doran and his family a bit surprised with this.

“Well… that’s sudden, but we can arrange that for you in the next few days… but how much do you want?” Doran asked, and Jon nodded.

“That’s good, it doesn’t matter the amount, I want as much as you can arrange for me, don’t worry about how much we will spend, as long as it’s at market price and fair, we’ll buy everything,” Jon was with his ships full of gold ingots, so he would buy everything he could.

Despite Doran’s surprise, the conversation continued with the price of sand, which resulted in tens of tons spending more than 200,000 gold coins in weights of his ingots, leaving the Martell family stunned with the amount of gold Jon was willing to spend just on pure sand.

“Why am I surprised… I heard you gave 400,000 coins to the Starks years ago, though I thought it might just be a rumor,” Doran said, staring at Jon, but Jon simply shrugged. He was so wealthy now that he doubted any house could match him.

“You’ve taken so many wild animals from Dorne,” Oberyn suddenly said. “Why don’t you take some of our specialties?” He suggested, picking up a basket beside him, while his brother raised an eyebrow, hoping Oberyn wouldn’t do anything foolish in the middle of the negotiation.

Oberyn placed the basket on the table, opening it, he began to pull out a snake with his hand from the basket, with an enigmatic smile and eyes gleaming with malice and pride. He looked at Jon, whose gaze was just neutral while the Dornishman held the creature, as the Martell family frowned, and Arya and the others looked on cautiously.

“Did you know snakes are consistent? I heard in the city today that they all moved strangely, as if they all had a common goal, much like the Dornish people,” he started, looking at the snake, which he held fearlessly.

‘Is he trying to intimidate me…?’ Jon thought to himself.

Oberyn looked from the snake to Jon. “Lord from the North, allow me to introduce one of the most formidable residents of our arid desert, the Red Sand Viper. A creature not just of lethal beauty, but also of cunning and resilience that mirror the soul of our people. Observe its colors, intense red intertwined with the darkest of blacks, a perfect blend with the sands and rocks of our land. It’s not just a survivor; it is a master of its domain, adapting and thriving where few would dare to tread.”

“But make no mistake, Lord from the North, for its stunning appearance. The Red Sand Viper is as dangerous as it is beautiful. A single bite can be fatal, depending on the viper’s will, of course. It holds the power of life and death within itself, a reminder that true strength often lies not in brute force, but in the ability to wait, observe, and strike at the exact right moment.”

‘He’s not wrong, after all, Dorne was never conquered, and many have tried…’ He thought, but he was not intimidated by Oberyn’s speech.

“Just like this viper, Dorne may appear welcoming and serene, but never underestimate the defenses we hide beneath the surface. We value our freedom and sovereignty above all else, and are always ready to protect them, with the same lethal precision of this creature here.”

“But today, Lord from the North, we negotiate in peace and with the hope for mutual prosperity. Let us hope for great business like you had with our brother, and I hope we never cross each other, after all, as they say in the North, ‘the North remembers,’ we can say the same for Dorne,” he concluded with a mischievous smile.

His smile suddenly disappeared because the snake in his hand, which had been serene, suddenly changed when it began to stare at him, opening its fangs as if ready to strike. This made the guards nervous as well as the Martell family, never having seen Oberyn threatened by a snake before, after all, this was his specialty.

The snake continued to stare at him while showing its fangs with venom dripping from them. Oberyn was frozen in place, thinking the snake might attack him at any moment with any movement of his, wondering what was happening there, no one even noticed as Jon simply smiled in front of him, the snake stopped showing its fangs abruptly and slithered out of Oberyn’s hand, falling onto the table and moving towards the other side, a hand caught it as soon as it reached the other side and started to crawl up Jon’s arm, going to his shoulder until it settled there turning its gaze back to Oberyn.

The Martell family was frozen, watching without words, Jon stood in front of them with the snake on his shoulder commanding it with just a simple thought. “You see, Prince Oberyn, I can understand quite a bit about snakes, more than you might imagine…” Jon said, maintaining a dangerously confident smile.

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