Thanks for the faves, follows and reviews. Someone asked about Quentyn and in this story he is not the Quentyn from the books, nor is he based on the book characterization. I am naming the unnamed Prince of Dorne that showed up in the last episode of 8x06 Quentyn and that's also my face claim for him (as the image icon for this story shows). Hope that clarifies things, onto the chapter!

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Unlike the extravagant Red Keep in King's Landing, Dragonstone was sparsely decorated and had a rough, austere appearance; its function serving as more of a military base than a palace.

They had decided to conduct their sparring sessions in the castle courtyard, under the cool, open skies.

Daenerys grunted as she stumbled forward, landing on her palms and knees. She cursed silently and resisted the urge to spit on the ground in her frustration. It would not seem so queenly.

But then again, she was sure she did not appear much like a Queen at that moment, sweating and dirty and wearing armor she had Gendry Baratheon make specifically for her. She lifted the sword with some effort and stood once more, facing off against the she-wolf.

Arya Stark was enjoying this immensely. She could tell the girl was going easy on her and yet Daenerys was failing spectacularly.

Arya saw the dejected expression on her face and said, "Did you think a handful of sessions is all it would take Your Grace? At one point I had so many bruises from my training that my face was more scabs than skin. I fell, and fell, and fell again. And then I got up. Because I could not afford to give up."

Just like you. The unspoken words hung in the air.

Yes, Dany was all too familiar with the falling and getting up. She had been doing it all her life. So she ignored the ache in her limbs and charged forward, slashing the air where Arya had stood seconds ago.

The girl was a shadow, flitting in and out of vision without a sound, without a trace.

Arya could just as easily have her tiny weapon pressed against her throat but she was giving her chances, allowing her to learn to defend herself.

In her peripheral vision, she caught a flash of dark hair and leaned heavily on her side to swerve left and knock her down, but Arya ducked just in time and shot her foot forward, tripping Dany.

She landed on her back and Arya Stark towered over her, the thin sword pressed to the Queen's throat.

She smiled. "You lasted longer this time." She moved and offered Dany a hand. Grabbing it, she stood up and dusted herself.

"Next time it shall be longer."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Arya replied, a modicum of pride in her voice. She could tell the girl enjoyed these sessions, enjoyed being a teacher.

"Where did you learn how to fight like this?" she inquired. Arya was not a woman of too many words, and Dany knew it might be a challenge to get her to open up, especially to her, but that didn't mean she would not try.

Arya surveyed her, taking time to measure her answer before finally saying, "It's a long story. I am sure you have many of those too."

An invitation, Dany thought. She would return it with one of her own.

"I do, how about we exchange them over supper tonight? We have been in Dragonstone for three days and you have taken every meal in your chambers. Perhaps you would like to dine with company for once?"

Arya nodded. Her eyes shifted over to Missandei, standing nearby with a miserable expression.

The balmy air of the Island did little to soothe the translator's nerves.

She hated the sessions, the sword awkward and heavy in her hand. The trainer was easier on her than she was with the Queen, but even then, she did not look forward to these lessons. She was a linguist, the pen, paper and words her area of expertise, she was not a fighter and had no desire to be as well.

Missandei knew in these tough times perhaps it was best to be secure, but that didn't mean she enjoyed the process. With a groan, she made to step forward but felt someone tap her shoulder.

She turned around to see Greyworm, a small smile on his face. "I can teach you today, instead of her."

"Oh," said Missandei softly. "I would like that."

She glanced at her Queen and Dany shrugged. "He is one of the best fighters I know. I am sure he would be able to teach you how to defend yourself just as well."

Arya smirked. "I have no doubt of that, but maybe the Master of War can spare time to have a single combat with me one day."

Grey Worm unsheathed his sword. "With pleasure, Lady Stark."

Missandei and Dany exchanged looks, both thinking about what an interesting spectacle that would be.

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Jon found Sansa in the balcony, leaning against the rails with her eyes closed. Breathing in the misty, winter air.

His footsteps took her out of her reverie and she greeted him with a soft "Hello Jon."

He sighed, not wasting time with small talk and getting to the heart of the matter. "Sansa, how long will you be mulling over the same issues?"

"Why did she have to take Arya? It was a power play, a show of dominance."

Jon frowned. "Do you think she could have taken Arya against her will? Do you think anyone can?"

Sansa begrudgingly shook her head. "No. I talked to her before they departed, asking why she was going along with her and Arya just said that it would be better to keep an eye on the Dragon Queen."

His temper was being tested hearing Sansa speak of Daenerys like that, and he tried to reign it in. "Queen Daenerys gave her reasons, they were very transparent, it was not a move of power. And you would do better to speak of her with more respect, especially seeing we are only alive today because of her."

"I don't trust her Jon."

"Why? Has she not given her us armies, her dragons, all her resources to save our home? To save humanity itself. Yes, Arya delivered the final blow but we both know without Dany we would have lost the battle. Has she not held up her part of the bargain honorably? Then why do you think her dishonest? Why are so determined to be against her?" he asked, exasperated.

Sansa pursed her lips. "After what I've seen in King's Landing, it's hard to trust so easily. Even those with good intentions can turn around and stab you in the back. So much power corrupts Jon, and you never know how she will wield it."

Jon rubbed his temples, having had enough. "I do know Sansa. I know her. And after how she has proved herself here, you should too. I know your experiences with Cersei have hardened you, but she is not Cersei. She is not her father."

He stepped closer to her, his dark grey eyes two impassioned pools. "I told her that the people here would come to see her for what she really is but now I am starting to believe that might not come to pass. No matter what she does, the North might not accept her. But that does not matter, because I have accepted her. As King in the North, whoever I pledge allegiance to, the rest of the Houses have to follow. Including House Stark." He finished with a warning note.

He did not know what had caused such fervor in his heart that he spoke like that to his family, but perhaps it was the distance. Perhaps it was the disappointment in Dany's eyes. The way she did not look back at him as he waved her goodbye. The way she had not responded to the raven he had sent her in Dragonstone, slowly but surely shutting him out.

"The North remembers Sansa. It remembers both betrayals and favors, so you should keep that in mind when thinking of Queen Daenerys."

He walked away without another word, and left a stunned Sansa in his wake.

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Tyrion downed the remaining wine in his cup and wished it would magically refill itself. He would need a lot more to get through this meeting.

"A party from Dorne is coming in a week my Queen?"

"Yes, Lord Tyrion, including the new Prince. And I expect them to welcomed with utmost grace and warmth, so prepare accordingly. We shall be the most hospitable hosts."

Tyrion could put two and two together. "I believe I am not wrong for assuming there will be talk of cementing Dorne's alliance with your cause with marriage?"

He did not miss the way Daenerys' expression grew melancholy at that last word but it passed very quickly. She was back to her calm regal look in a matter of seconds.

"You assumed correctly. After all, weren't you the one who told me the best way to make alliances is through marriage?"

He sighed. "I had a certain broody Northerner in mind when I said that."

Daenerys steeled herself at the mention of Jon. "The King in the North has already bent the knee. I have done more than enough to ensure they stay loyal to me, by fighting for their home and saving them all. Besides, their Kingdom is considerably weakened after the war and should their loyalties shift, I would be left with very weak alliances. Dorne is where we should set our sights. As my Hand, you should have suggested this proposition to me but alas your wit has grown dimmer after landing back in Westeros it appears."

Tyrion looked ashamed and nodded his head. "Very well Your Grace."

"And Tyrion, do not share this information with anyone in Winterfell, including Varys. I left him there to be my eyes and ears, but sometimes it is best to not let your Master of Whispers hear everything. We shall try to keep this confined to Dragonstone and Dorne for now, and word shall spread when the time is appropriate. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes my Queen, you have."

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