Dothraki Sea, 497 AC

Before this, Clarke muses as she sits atop Nerys, she had never left Westeros. As a matter of fact, despite her political role as the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms, she has hardly been anywhere at all. She grew up in Dragonstone, and rarely left the castle—except for the rare occasions when she had managed to escape her guard—and then when she got older, she was shuffled off to court in King's Landing.

Now, she has flown across the Narrow Sea with only Nerys, her dragon, a crudely drawn map of where to go, and some vague instructions of what to do when she arrives. Ahead, in the distance, she spots the landmark she has been searching for: the Horse Gate. Even farther, Clarke can spot Vaes Dothrak, the only city in the Dothraki Sea.

Clarke had been told, in the early morning hours before her departure, that her best chance would be to head for Vaes Dothrak and find a Khalasar within the city to help her, rather than searching the vast plains.

She commands Nerys to fly toward the city, but not directly to it—she doesn't want to frighten these people with her dragon, after all. And, once Nerys is settled, Clarke continues on foot to the entrance to Vaes Dothrak.

Within the city, Clarke is struck by just how different everything is here. Nothing looks familiar, and everyone is staring at her. (That part isn't all that different.)

"Someone looks lost," a mounted rider says derisively as she passes. She speaks in Clarke's language.

Clarke tries to stand as tall and brave as she can. She wants to appear assured. "I need to speak with a Kahl. It is important."

"Important enough for you to come all this way?"

She nods. The Dothraki girl can't possibly know who she is exactly, but she can probably guess where she came from. It isn't as if Clarke made any attempt to disguise this fact.

"Well, then," the Dothraki girl replies, clearly bemused, "come this way." She gestures toward her left, and Clarke follows the rider and her horse. Eyes continue to follow her all the way, but she is used to being watched by now, and pays them all no mind.

The rider stops abruptly in front of a tent. "We can talk in there," the rider says.

"We?" Clarke asks, confused. "I said I wanted to talk with a—" she tries to explain but suddenly understands. Her eyes widen, and Clarke hopes she didn't offend.

The Kahlessi seems amused. She raises an eyebrow at Clarke's flustered face. "Come," she beckons.

Hesitantly, Clarke follows, prepared to lay out her plea.

-x-

Weeks later, Clarke leans on the war table, maps of Westeros spread out before her. She isn't planning a war, however, she is planning to stop one.

"You spend too much time in here," a soft voice rings out from the door.

Clarke smiles at the teasing tone. "And you spend so little," she replies, with a little censure in her voice. There is a part of her that revels in this power—that she can speak to the Kahlessi in this way, that she is allowed. But, also, that she has such immeasurable control over her own life, for the first time in as long as she can remember.

Lexa walks around the table and touches her arm. Clarke turns to face her.

"I know this is important to you, but you should rest, Clarke. Looking over these maps is not going to help you when it really matters. Plans don't last very long in battle; what you need is a sharp mind."

"I don't want this to become a war," Clarke whispers, turning away from Lexa and facing the maps once more. Lexa often speaks of the plan in such a way that it seems she doesn't believe Clarke's vision is achievable. "If I can bring a show of force large enough that the dissenters will know there is a great risk to their plans, I can get them to back off."

If she can free her mother from the royal mess she's made of the Kingdoms, they may come out of this with all seven Kingdoms in tact. "I just need to make sure that I have everything right."

Lexa steps closer and stands behind her, placing her hands on Clarke's hips and holds her close. "You're doing what I did when I first took command of the Kahlasar, but tiring yourself with questions already asked and answered is a waste of energy. We have carefully made these plans, and looked at every angle. If this has any chance of succeeding, you have surely found it."

Clarke feels Lexa's hands move up and over her stomach, slowly caressing her through her dress. "The Narrow Sea is still a moons' ride away. You should rest up before we make the trip. Everything will move faster than. Right now you have too much time to think.

Clarke sighs. "You're right," she admits. "I know you're right. I just…." She doesn't know what to say, or how to put her fears into words.

Lexa nibbles on her ear. "I know, but go to your tent and rest. I'll be in shortly. We can relax together."

Clarke smiles. That's a plan she can get behind.