Odahviing flew, angling them far enough over that Kirah had to pound on his back to get him to level out. Not all of his riders were as experienced as her. Sansa was looking as if she might faint at any second and even Clegane was green around the gills. The ocean flew by underneath, only interrupted by a fishing boat or two which were easily left behind. At the very edge of the horizon though, there was a smudge that kept getting bigger.

"Odahviing, there!" Kirah shouted, the wind ripping at her voice. The red dragon heard though, beating his wings faster and heading for the island. As they got closer, Kirah could make out a castle on it, large enough that it dominated the island it was on. Their flight grew a little less hectic with a destination, giving her enough time to turn back to Sansa. One claw curled as she pointed to the castle. "What is that?"

Sansa's eyes flickered. "Dragonstone, I think."

Behind her the Hound nodded. "Bloody Stannis Baratheon's seat."

"Is he in the war?"

"Oh, aye. He's Joffrey's uncle, if that little shit was actually Robert's son." He continued, his voice grim. "He's a harsh man, his home's a harsh place, and his wife's been away from the world for years. Don't get much more bland than Stannis."

Kirah nodded, growing thoughtful as they drew closer. As the castle came more into view she could make out great winding dragons carved into the very stone. A small town was spread below, the biggest thing in it the harbor. Odahviing let out a roar as they crossed over the town, heading for the towers of the castle. He quickly alighted on one, sending roof tiles plummeting down. Below, guard scurried about, a force trying to get together to come face the dragon.

"Cowards!" Odahviing called down, his tail lashing against the stones. There was movement on the walkway that lead to the tower though, a slight little person that came forward. Odahviing lowered his head, one great eye looking. Gesturing for Sansa and Sandor to stay, Kirah climbed down the sinuous neck. It was nothing more than a little girl who stood before them, half her face gray and unmoving. Odahviing drew back his head, letting loose a snort over her. She only giggled, jumping forward to pet the dragon.

Kirah dropped down from his neck, landing lightly on the parapet. "Greetings, little one. Are you in charge of this place?" She kept her voice low, a purr. The last thing she wanted was the girl to feel threatened, but then again the girl was currently scratching Odahviing behind one of his horns. Perhaps after what befell her to give her her face, nothing would shake her. The great dragon became a mewling housecat when he was scratched just right.

She turned her head back though, her voice light. "No, Father is. You'd think he'd be here, wouldn't you?"

"Considering I don't know your father, you tell me." Kirah replied, coming closer and removing her helmet. If the girl thought it odd that she was Khajiit, she gave no sign.

"My name's Shireen, what's your's?"

"Kirah Dovahkiin, little kit."

"Odahviing, now don't stop scratching." He barked, twisting his head to give her better access. Shireen giggled and went back to work. There was a sudden commotion behind them, a door opened with enough force that it almost fell off of its hinges. Kirah turned around, examining the men coming toward her.

"Step away, Shireen." One of them called, a large man who's head was almost bald. He carried a sword in one hand, the steel discolored by heat. Behind him crowded a myriad of others. A woman in a dark red dress, her hair the same color. Standing away from her was a scruffy man, one hand reaching towards a small bag around his neck. Both stood closest to the man, obviously his advisors.

"She faces no harm. Odahviing will not hurt her." Kirah replied, kneeling beside Shireen.

Her appearance and speech put off a few of the men farther back, who stepped away or stepped forward with clenched hands. Their leader, Stannis she assumed, did no such thing. "Step away from my daughter, beast."

"Father, please. It's just Kirah Dovahkiin." Shireen said, her voice petulant.

"Kirah what?"

"It means dragonborn, sir." Kirah stood, and walked forward. "A much more difficult concept it being one."

"And what does that mean?" The woman in red stepped forward, drawing herself up.

"Yol." Kirah breathed, willing the fire into life. It licked her lips, fluttering out in a moment. It was enough to stun the crowd though, for the red woman to back away slightly. If anything she was more interested though, her eyes glittering. Kirah spread her palms, sheathing her claws. "This one means no harm, she merely wishes for a place to rest her head, fill her belly, and bring to Stannis news, news that might make him very glad and news that will chill his soul."

"He is a King." One voice in back shouted.

"I have brought down Kings before." Kirah let her voice hammer him into silence. She cast a glare at the crowd. "And if need be I will again, but Kirah does not wish it now." She gestured to a courtyard below them, big enough for Odahviing to stretch out. "We will await your hospitality below."

"Pretty speech." Odahviing replied, slithering down the tower and stalling his fall with his wings. Sansa and Sandor hung on for dear life. Once he was settled, Kirah turned back to Stannis.

"He talks, and he gets very hungry. Feeding him might be a good idea." She said, stepping up the battlement. "Feim." And with that she fell, standing up and becoming solid once she had landed below.

AN: I'm back! I hope you enjoy this!