She lay sprawled atop her bed, half tangled in sheets. She'd been tossing and turning half the night and, with so much on her mind and the looming siege to come, was sure she'd be doing likewise the rest of it. She curled her fists to balls and pounded the bedding before sitting up abruptly and scowling out the lightly billowing tent flaps.

Daenerys rose from bed and stomped outside, the soles of her bare feet going icy the moment they made contact with the ground outside. She ignored it, standing there with her night gown fluttering about her otherwise naked figure as she looked over the campgrounds they'd erected outside King's Landing. Everything was calm, still. Faintly, she could see torches burning on the ramparts of the city she was to sack… if it would not concede defeat to her tomorrow morning, that was.

West of her tent, Drogon's imposing figure slumbered in a curled ball of scales and talons and wings. She considered going to him, taking a night ride amidst the clouds. That always helped her ease down for a good sleep… and yet, there was something strange about the dragon on this night. His breaths seem particularly labored as he stirred but did not rise and…

There was movement behind her, but before Daenerys could so much as consider what to do about it, she was taken hold of. She gasped as an arm wrapped her torso, pinning her arms down. Another appeared before her eyes brandishing a fine dagger that glinted balefully in moonlight.

"Scream, and it will be your last."

She swallowed, nodded, and was taken trembling back into her tent before being flung down upon the bed. Dany gathered her gown around her and curled into a ball herself, much like Drogon, to stare up at her assailant.

"…you!?"

"Me." Arya Stark stood at the end of the bed garbed in black leather, her brown hair pulled into a tight ponytail, the dagger she'd threatened Dany with tucked back into a sheath along her belt. The short Stark girl drew a length of rope from the pocket of her vest and pulled it taught. "Change of plans, my Queen."

"Change of…" Dany's surprise was melding into anger as she narrowed her furious gaze up at the girl. "What is the meaning of this!? How did you get-"

"Quiet," Arya said, and though the girl was short and calm… her commands carried weight.

Daenerys swallowed, hugging her gown a bit tighter around her.

"My brother Bran," Arya began quietly. "He's… changed now. I'm sure you're aware. He sees things. Can go places. Look into the past and sometimes even… see the future. And, as it turns out, he's seen yours, Daenerys Targaryen. And it isn't good. For anyone."

Dany's eyes blossomed. "What are you talking about!? If you think for one moment you'll talk me out of taking my throne tomorrow…"

"No, I'm not thinking that. You'll never give up your conquest. Bran has seen that much. You won't stop till everything is in ruins, in fact. You'll torch the city, slaughter thousands of innocents, and your madness will imprison your Hand and… set my brother to killing you."

"Your broth… Jon!?" Dany shrieked, her heart racing now. "Jon would… never! He… what sort of game is this!?"

Arya shrugged. "You don't have to believe me. That's why I snuck here in the middle of the night. My family has other plans for you, you see. Instead of the Mad Queen… you're to be a Stark slave. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"Slave!?"

"You heard me," Arya said, advancing a step with the rope pulled taught between her gloves hands. "Bran has sent message only a little while ago. If I hadn't decided to stop in to see what your camp was up to, I might've never gotten it. But I did. And now I'm here to steal you." She leaned down, readying a loop in the rope. "So keep quiet."

"I will not! You won't take my throne from me you- oof!" Before she could protest any further, Arya had snatched her wrist and twisted it till Dany had no choice but to roll onto her belly. She felt her hands being wrestled together and then wound in rope, tighter and tighter, her fingers wiggling uselessly as she was bound. The Stark girl hopped onto her legs and Dany's feet were forced together too, her ankles wrapped and bound just as her hands has been.

"Do you think Drogon will allow my captivity, you fool!" Dany shrieked as Arya dismounted and drew a long black cloth from her pocket. "I am his mother! He will scorch you till you're nothing but ashes!"

"I agree," Arya said cooly. "Which is why my brother Bran has taken him over tonight to ensure he has a long and unbroken sleep." She smiled. "Now open your big mouth so I can shut it up for you."

"What!? You…" The cloth was shoved forcefully into Dany's opened lips. She bit down on it a fury as the Stark girl gagged her tightly with it, knotting it behind her head. Her wide eyes, she was sure, were filled with fire and loathing as she stared at her captor. "Ymmn cmnd dmn thnnff!" She growled around her gag, but the cloth worked wonders at keeping her both quiet and incomprehensible.

"Shhhhh," Arya hushed her with a grin. "I have to wrap you up now. Stay still."

And then Dany was being wrapped in her own bedsheets. They circled and bound her from ankles to shoulders in an ever-tightening cocoon till she couldn't budge and was reduced now to a head and a pair of wiggling feet. She'd never been so outraged in her life as she glared daggers at Arya and squirmed as hard as she could. Arya, impervious, it seemed, to any of this, simply grabbed hold of her around the midsection and hoisted Daenerys up onto her shoulder.

"Mmm! Mmm!" Dany protested till Arya's hand drove hard against her bottom.

"Quiet!"

Dany did go quiet, but more out of indignation than obedience. Did she just get… spanked!?

Arya put her on horseback. With her feet and legs bound together, she had to be set sideways on the saddle, but when the Stark girl mounted up herself and pulled Dany's body tight against her own, she knew she was secure. She couldn't fall off, and she certainly wasn't going to be escaping, wrapped, held, bound, gagged… Dany had never felt so utterly helpless before.

Arya dug her heels into the horse's side and got them off at a gallop. Daenerys' wide eyes searched desperately for aid: one of her warriors, Grey Worm, Jon, someone! But as they rode back around the campsite and the battle lines and steered down a sloping piece of valley leading to a wooded trail, the truth smacked Dany hard and cold in the face: it was successful. She'd just been kidnapped the night before the biggest victory of her life, the one she'd been fighting towards for the last few years. Bitterly, she turned a sneer on Arya, who, after fishing about in her vest again a moment, simply put a bag over her head, blinding her in a world of darkness.

The ride was bumpy and uncomfortable, bundled up as she was. The night was quiet and only the horse hooves and the wind could be heard muffled beyond the inside of her suffocating bag. Dany fidgeted from time to time, but Arya would squeeze her tighter, reminding her not to try anything. Were here mouth not secured with a gag, she would have filled the Stark girl's ears with threats and warning and titles and… and all of that was useless now.

With every gallop, Dany felt the iron throne falling further and further away from her. She was losing her destiny. She was losing her birthright. And it was all because of Starks. That frigid bitch up North… Sansa. Her wild younger sister. Even Jon, whether he called himself 'Snow' or 'Targaryen', when it came right down to it, he acted only like a bloody Stark! She hated them all! Loathed their cold lands and their banner and their stupid honor and…

The horse slowed and Daenerys was abruptly hoisted over a shoulder. She grunted her displeasure as she was carried somewhere and sat against, what she assumed, was a tree. Ropes bound her to it and then the Stark girl must've been setting up a campfire or something, for she heard a slew of noises before the bag was pulled from her head.

She blinked when finally freed of the musty thing. Her prediction was correct: a little campfire in a circle of stones had been erected, and Arya was knelt beside it, carefully tending to a few twigs to ensure they caught. The warmth was nice for Dany, especially on the bottoms of her bare feet, which were stretched before her, legs wrapped in sheet. She glared at the Stark girl, gag clenched humiliatingly between her teeth.

Arya noticed and glanced to her. She smiled.

"You should sleep. We can't afford to rest here long, and tomorrow's ride is going to be long and unbroken."

"Mmrrf…" Dany grumbled, wiggling in her binds.

"Shush. Get used to all that. When I take you back to Winterfell, my sister has plans on how to keep you from ever acting on Bran's vision of the future. You're not going to be permitted to leave the castle grounds. And you'll be kept in tight restraints." Her smile broadened. "You're not going anywhere once we have you."

Dany felt her cheeks flush with color as she writhed again, shaking her head.

"Mmmmmph!"

"I said to keep quiet," Arya warned her, tending to the fire again. "Save your mumbles for my sister. I'm sure she'll get a thrill out of hearing them. You never shut up when you were our guest. Now, well, you've got no choice have you?"

Dany squinted.

"You're a slave, Daenerys Targaryen. A slave to us Starks. And I'm sure we'll find…" the girl's eyes moved up and down her figure. "…good use for you. All of you."

That was the last thing Arya Stark seemed to intend to say. She tended the fire quietly after that and left Daenerys to stew and fume in her forced silence. Eventually, she rested her head upon her shoulder and stared at the flames, watching them lash the dark sky as if they were erupting from Drogon's snout. Fire and blood… that's what her enemies would get. All of them. Even the Starks.

And it was with that thought she drifted into a light sleep with.