Visenya did mean that they should explore the city and eventually it was decided for Tyrion to remain behind. They meant to go undercover, for starters, and the dwarf was not hard to recognise, especially with the hatred people had for him while he was Hand.
Thankfully, the Dragoness would not tell her husband and neither would her guards. Thus, this let Visenya, Sansa, Trystan and two more guards get on horses and head to the city.
"I do apologize for the chosen transport, Lady Sansa, but it draws far less attention than a carriage," Visenya explained as they rode their horses down one of the busier and bigger streets of the city.
Both had been dressed in more common dresses, nothing too expensive or overly fancy. They also had cloaks around them, plain and with no sigil on them while the hoods were lifted over their heads to cover their hair and partially their face.
"It is quite alright, my Lady. It has been a while since I had been on top of a horse," Sansa said, riding a gentle brown mare while the Dragoness rode her black one.
"If I could, it would be my most preferred and chosen mode of transport. However, now it is important to pass as simple court ladies, to avoid any unnecessary trouble," she explained, the two of them riding side by side.
Behind them was Trystan and the guards, all dressed in more common clothing but had their swords with them and so did Visenya, although hers was hidden by her cloak. It felt odd for Sansa to see a woman carrying a sword but somehow despite what she wore, the Dragoness made it all work out.
"I understand, my Lady," she said timidly but with less nervousness than before since Tywin was not present.
She kept looking forward but she did feel the need to glance behind her at Trystan. It was odd for her to see him dressed in something so casual and not in the expensive fabrics all of his family usually wore.
Visenya noticed but did not say anything. "King's Landing has a lot of main roads, alleys and squares. This one is called the Street of Looms," she explained to Sansa.
The younger girl blinked a few times as her brain registered and processed the latest information. "Loom? Like..."
The Dragoness nodded. "That is right. Our first official stop is to an old friend of mine," she said with a small smile.
Eventually, they came to a halt in front of a two-storey building. It was of similar design to the others around but there was a peculiar sign of three bells hanging above the door, swaying faintly with the passing breeze.
The Dragoness smiled and climbed off her horse with ease, the soldiers and Trystan did the same. Sansa hesitated for a moment until the Half-Lion appeared and offered his hand silently.
She smiled and blushed but accepted his help nonetheless. She was careful as she climbed off the horse, feeling Trystan's strong hands carefully and gently placed on her waist as she was helped down.
Once her feet were on the ground, Sansa looked down to hide her rosy cheeks but kept her smile. "Thank you, Ser Trystan," she said.
Something about her smile was contagious and the Half-Lion offered a charming smile of his own as he withdrew his hands and placed them behind his back. "Always a pleasure, Lady Sansa," he said and the two of them just stood there until the Dragoness cleared her throat.
"Come," she said, choosing not to comment anything and instead pushed the door forward.
The sound of a bell was heard as the two women and Trystan entered, the guards standing outside.
"Coming," a voice with an odd accent was heard and soon a man climbed down the stairs, carrying a huge roll of black silk on one shoulder.
The man was of average height but fairly built, evident by the way he carried that piece of silk without problem. He wore strange, non-Westerosi clothes consisting of some sort of dark blue tunic with buttons in the middle and a belt around it, being a dark brown in shade. His pants were of similar hue but the most striking feature was his long moustache.
His hair was dark black in colour and long, tied to a low ponytail by the base of his head. His moustache, on the other hand, seemed to have been dyed a brighter blue and was long enough to reach both ears.
Before he could ask or say anything about them, Visenya brought her hood down and his dark eyes seemed to glow with recognition. His moustache shifted as his lips formed a smile, wide enough to show his white teeth while he placed the roll of silk down.
"Dragoness," he said with the same foreign accent as he spread his hands in a welcoming manner. "I heard of your return and I did wonder when you will visit again."
"Doroh," Visenya greeted with a small smile, taking a few steps forward. "Even in my absence, I do recall sending you rich clients to your doorstep and ordering some designs myself."
Doroh waved his hand dismissively, showing no care who the woman was. "Yes, yes," he said and then his eyes landed on Sansa. "And what do we have here? Who is this young flower?"
"This is Lady Sansa Stark," the Dragoness said, choosing to use the girl's original family name and motioned for the girl to lower her hood. "My good-daughter."
Hesitant at first, the Stark obeyed nonetheless. She lowered her hood, exposing her reddish-brown hair and bright blue eyes, while her head was slightly lowered, her body slightly withdrawn inwards.
"Such a shade, such eyes," Doroh commented, his smile not leaving his face. "She is a beautiful exotic flower, Dragoness." He looked from Sansa to the older woman and then finally noticed Trystan standing in front of the closed door. "Is this your boy?"
Visenya, unfazed by the more casual and informal way of speaking, simply nodded her head. "Yes. This is Trystan. Trystan, Sansa, meet Doroh," she finally introduced them, the small smile upon her lips remaining.
Doroh took a few steps forward, passing the two ladies as he came to a halt in front of Trystan. There was a sort of comical height difference since Doroh was shorter by at least two heads.
He seemed to circle around the Half-Lion, inspecting him like a horse at an auction. "Tall, quite tall and good-looking," he commented as he did a full circle around him. "Ah, Valyrian features. I did have my doubts you would be the last one carrying them in this city. He would be quite a catch back at Norvos."
This conversation about him made the Half-Lion uncomfortable, who cleared his throat. "Mother," he called her out, trying to remain calm and not sound like a scared child in front of a crazy stranger.
He looked at the woman in question, who was amused by the situation and did not seem to mind.
"You can relax, Trystan. Doroh is a friend," she informed him.
Sansa chuckled silently upon seeing the tall and brave knight feeling uncomfortable under the gaze and inspection of a shorter, odd but funny-looking man. "Norvos?" she found herself wondering out loud once she composed herself.
At the mention of his home, Doroh turned his back on Trystan. "Yes, Norvos. One of the Nine Free Cities in Essos. Beautiful sunsets, nice-looking women but boring life," he explained.
"Essos? That is so far away," Sansa pointed out.
Visenya joined the conversation. "It is. I became acquainted with Doroh during my travels to Essos. He had a unique talent for making clothing, specifically dresses, but alas no such occupation truly paid in that city," she explained.
"And people in the other Free Cities are so...what is the word?" Doroh questioned and then turned to Visenya, asking her something in Low Valyrian that shocked Trystan.
He did not expect someone else in King's Landing to speak the language but upon hearing it better, he did not recognise the word. The speech and accent seemed...mixed, odd even and he could not truly understand it.
"Unappreciative," she translated.
"Yes, thank you," the Norvoshi man said. "While here, so many women want a unique dress like no other. Now that shows appreciation for one's craft." He focused back to Visenya. "What do you want me to make today?"
The Dragoness placed her hand on Sansa's shoulder, feeling it tense but she did not blame her. She was most likely a little uneasy because Doroh was...different from what she was used to now.
"Not me, her. I would like you to take her measurements and do your thing," she explained, earning a worried look from the younger girl. "Do not worry. Doroh used to make dresses for my sister while she was Queen and eventually made me a few as well. You are in good hands."
Doroh rubbed his hands in excitement. "Come along, girl," he said and headed deeper into the room, motioning with one finger for her to follow.
Sansa felt odd and embarrassed to hear that she would have her measurements taken. She never truly had a dress made for her especially, except the one for her wedding. To hear that she would be looked after by someone who dressed both Visenya and her deceased sister and Queen made her feel honoured but also worried.
Yet, as she remembered the dresses she had seen the Dragoness wear, she felt a little more reassured that the man knew what he was doing, even if the said man was kind of odd.
As Doroh took Sansa to a different room, Visenya approached Trystan, who had not moved from his place.
"Are you alright, my son?" she asked in her motherly tone, placing a warm hand upon his cheek.
Trystan, just like her, was unusually warm and seemed to tolerate the cold far better than most people. His skin, though, was not as hot as hers would usually be but it was not the common cold many Westerosi men and women had.
"Just...he is a little bit odd, Mother," he confessed, his voice low in order not to be heard.
This amused her as she withdrew her hand. "He was just raised differently. Essos is not like Westeros, its people are not like what you are used to. Formalities are not as extreme as they are here, titles as well," she explained.
Still, the Half-Lion was a little hesitant and worried about Sansa, often looking in the direction where she was taken by the Norvoshi man. Due to the new silence in the big shop, he could hear them faintly.
"That sounds so...strict," he heard Sansa say as Doroh was busy explaining something to her about the three bells of Norvos and how they were meant to ring and order everyone what to do, whether that be eat, sleep, work or even have sexual intercourse with one another.
"It is not strict, it is a way of life," he corrected her. "But I will tell you what it is...it is boring. It takes away all creativity," he continued, moving his hands with small faint drama, making her chuckle faintly.
Visenya smiled at that, glad to see that Sansa was slowly relaxing. Perhaps the stop was an odd one but she had seen the dresses of the girl and she did not like it. She knew Cersei had a say in it, most likely not wishing to bring out the Northern beauty of the Stark girl, but Sansa was not like that.
Based on what Trystan had told her, Sansa was one who enjoyed dresses, jewellery and embroidery in general. It made her feel good as almost every woman felt that way when wearing a nice proper and fitting dress.
The Dragoness knew that this change of wardrobe would help uplift the girl's mood, give her a new meaning and perhaps see things a little bit differently.
She then focused on her son. "Take one of the guards and return to the Red Keep but do not let your father see you," she instructed. "I want to spend some alone time with Sansa."
Trystan understood and nodded his head. "Of course, Mother...and thank you, for trying to help her."
Her hand caressed his cheek. "Go now," she said with a small smile and watched him open the door and close it behind him.
Once he was gone, she started to walk deeper into the shop. Eventually, she found Sansa standing on a round stool as Doroh was putting pins on a tester blue silk and measuring the curves and other details of her body.
Sansa was obediently standing still but had a small smile on her lips. This made her feel like royalty for a moment and she enjoyed it, imagining what kind of beautiful dresses she would soon wear.
At the same time, she was having a small casual talk with Doroh. The man might be a little odd, informal and gay but he was a good man nonetheless, and he seemed interested in her experiences.
"You made your own dress?" he asked her, stopping with a pin in one hand while looking up at her.
The wolf nodded. "Yes, with furs and some other materials I had available."
Something sparkled in his dark eyes. "Fascinating," he commented. "I never tried Northern fashion before, all that fur...but I could make it work for you. Although, it is pretty hot here but you might need it. Winter is arriving, little flower."
The topic of winter made Visenya think back to that dream about the Wall and the other side, causing goosebumps to appear on her skin as if the temperature had suddenly dropped dramatically.
She almost saw her breath coming through her lips but upon forcing herself to blink and focus, she realized that all of this was her imagination, or so she hoped.
Either that or I am getting mad slowly, she thought and tried to focus on the conversation between Sansa and Doroh.