30th of the Tenth Month of 293 AC

"Tell me more," Carmella urged quietly, her voice choked.

"My lady," the Westerosi boy whispered.

"Tell me more of my . . . Family. Please, Tom."

"Okay," he said unsurely. "Highgarden still flourishes, it remains the most populous and fertile of all seven kingdoms. Your grandmother is now known as the Queen of Thorns."

Carmella chuckled softly at that. "And Garlan? Willas?"

"Garlan the Great," Tom said. "A nickname given to him by his older brother. He is a talented knight."

"He's been knighted?" Carmella gasped.

"So I've heard," he shrugged, nervous now. "Willas remains the victim of scheming mothers attempting to hoist the daughters onto the heir to Highgarden."

"Margaery?" Her little sister had quickly become someone Carmella treasured, even if they hadn't spoke in years and despite the fact that Carmella still harboured some bitterness at the life of leisure Margaery was inevitably leading while Dany was suffering.

"Beautiful," he confirmed. "The life and soul of the city. Her and her brother Loras are nigh on inseparable and loved by nearly everyone they come across."

"Loras, I forgot Loras," she said quietly.

"He's a character. I believe he's been sent to squire or page at Storm's End for Lord Renly Baratheon."

"They are all so grown," Carmella said. "Margaery and I might've been close had I stayed. We might have been best friends."

"My lady," the boy ventured. "Why not return to them? I know Lord Willas aches for your return."

Willas, oh Willas how I wish I could see you once more, if only to apologise for making your life hell. Lately Carmella had began missing her family more than usual, she suspected it was because they weren't on the streets anymore begging for money so she had more time to spend thinking about her lost loved ones. They're not lost, I know where they are. Yet she couldn't return to them. She couldn't leave Dany. Or Viserys.

"I cannot go back, I must finish what I started here," she replied faintly. "Thank you, Tom. It has been a pleasure seeing you once more."

"And I you, my lady, the days don't seem as fun without you running amuck stealing the practice swords."

"I was such a child then," she smiled. "I do hope you are knighted someday Tom," and despite her next actions, Carmella really did mean it.

Tom had been a good friend of hers back in the Reach, a well-intentioned boy, nephew to the master-at-arms and always had a smile to offer Carmella when she came seeking to join in on their practice. He never turned his nose up at me like the others or attempted to flirt with me. She had no clue how he'd ended up in the Free Cities for she felt his story about looking for his rogue mother was a lie. He was my friend. Was. Because he had to die, Carmella had told him everything on an emotional whim and though she liked him well enough she had no idea who he'd tell, and word couldn't reach the capital that Lady Carmel Tyrell was actually aiding the exiled Targaryens and not living in sin with a Dornishman. I wish I'd never seen him, then I wouldn't have to do this. The poison she'd placed in his flask—which she could now see him taking a swig from—would kill him before he ever made it back on his boat. She had the antidote. She could save him if she ran quick enough. Which she did, only not in Tom's direction. In Viserys'. She missed his teasing smirk.

5th of the Fifth Month of 299 AC

Carmella of Westeros

Three months with the Dothraki had seen the Carmella, Viserys and Dany all changed. Daenerys, now completely enamoured with her khal wore the Dothraki clothes, rode as well as a native and spoke the language as if it were her first. She wore her title with honour, and Carmella had heard whispers from the khaleesi's handmaidens and the other women she'd befriended that it was Dany who truly ruled the khalasaar, that she whispered into his ear each night as they made love in the Western Way; the thought both disturbed and pleased Carmella, for she was glad her sister in all ways that mattered had come into her own, yet slightly put off by the fact that her maidenhead had been broken by a brute like Khal Drogo. Though she may not have noticed, Carmella herself had drastically changed, she hadn't completely adopted the Dothraki attire, but she had abandoned her scanty silk gowns and no longer saw riding horses as a painful chore but instead something she did easily. Although she'd not taken to it as well Dany, Carmella spoke the language well enough to make a few friends of her own amongst the khalasaar and often spent her time with the children, teaching them some words of the Common Tongue and the history of the Targaryens, that now some of the older women had taken to listening, fascinated with the lands across the west that their silver queen had been borne from; Carmella had also been able to put some of her grandmother's lessons to use and convince some men to teach her how to use a bow and arrow—to the intense dismay of Viserys—and although children as young as six possessed better aim than her, Carmella was steadily improving. The largest change, however, was the closeness between Viserys and herself. Since Dany was almost always preoccupied with something or the other, the young king was now Carmella's closest friend whom she spent most of her time with, and after watching how his moods would take funny turns whenever someone unintentionally offended him by regarding Daenerys as more important, she'd decided they must share a tent once more so he wasn't tempted to do something silly in the night. It had shocked both Viserys and his sworn sword, Jorah, when she'd made a bed by his one night. Nothing dishonourable had happened, yet Dany had informed Carmella that most thought she and Viserys were lovers. Lovers, she'd laughed in her head, tolerators more like. Yet deep down she knew the thought was untrue. The months they'd spent together had revived the withering friendship and it was now uncommon for Viserys and Carmella to have an argument. Not since that last one all those moons ago . . . It was Viserys who was most changed though. Carmella had always seen to it that he never succumbed to the madness that plagued his family and remained with his wits, but she'd never once imagined the Viserys she knew now. He took all her advice readily; respected the Dothraki, rode behind Dany, ate their food without complaint, wore their clothes, and sometimes even offered a gift of a bottle of wine to Dany and Drogo arguing that maybe flattery would persuade the khal to grant him his armies quicker, but on top of that Viserys made smart moves of his own: he trained with his knight twice a day for hours on end, he pumped Carmella for all the information she had of Westeros, merged it with his own and had taken to writing it all down, and had even begun planning his invasion of Westeros, though Carmella knew he couldn't truly plan it without her telling him what House she was from and the armies they'd offer.

"Do you not wish to spar with us, my lady?" Ser Jorah asked the daydreaming girl. "I imagine handling a sword will prove much more useful than a bow once you return home."

"No, I prefer to watch you," she replied winking, causing the solemn knight to blush.

"Don't tease him Ella," Viserys scolded her playfully. "Why won't you train with us? I didn't think you to be one afraid of a challenge."

Carmella laughed loudly. Viserys had become competent enough with his sword but he hadn't managed to best Ser Jorah yet, which in Carmella's eyes meant he wasn't any good. Jorah is a fine knight and fights well, but he is nothing compared to what Garlan must be if he has nurtured the promise he showed when he was younger, or the likes of Jaime Lannister. If Viserys can't best Jorah then he is no challenge to me. Carmella said none of this though. Nobody was aware of how well she fought with a sword. She'd trained endlessly with Garlan when she was young learning the standard ways of sword-fighting and then trained some more with Oberyn and his bastards on her way to the Targaryen siblings, adding a more sinister edge to her style. She'd even made sure to keep her skills as polished as she could in secrecy during her time on the streets or in borrowed beds, and found that though she wasn't quite as fast, she was still considerably good. Certainly good enough to best Viserys. I still prefer the spear though.

"A lady has no use for a sword," she quipped eventually.

At this point in time Jorah had bested Viserys, the point of his weapon held threateningly over the king's throat. "I hardly believe you one to spare a worry over what a lady should have use for," Jorah said wryly.

Carmella shrugged. "Maybe not before, but as my return home looms closer and closer I must begin reacquainting myself with the social expectations people will have of me."

"Well I hardly think flirting with a knight old enough to be your father is what society will expect of you," Viserys said grouchily, brushing himself off.

Ser Jorah looked unsurely at Carmella, no doubt wondering if he'd somehow offended the king, whose ugly temper hadn't reared itself in weeks. Carmella though stared unwavering at her friend. "I was hardly flirting."

"Oh yeah?"

"It was harmless teasing. Ser Jorah knows I only jest with him."

"I hope so," he grumbled. "I highly doubt your parents will be impressed if you show up with some Northern knight's bastard."

At this, Jorah gasped. Carmella didn't blame him, it was plain to all that the withered knight held feelings only for Daenerys.

"Your Grace, I would never presume to touch your honoured guest."

"I should hope so. I can barely stomach the thought of Ella holed up in the North on your islands."

Carmella decided to have some fun. "For all you know, I could be Northern myself."

Viserys scoffed. "Sure, and I'm a horse."

"You don't think I could be?" She frowned.

"No, definitely not. Anyone from the North would've suffered in the intense heat and you've never once complained. Secondly, you know a lot about poisons and the like, something I know is not privy to those in the North, and lastly, you don't hold the Watch in high esteem, not the way Jorah does, which also tells me you're as Southern as they come."

Carmella gaped. My my, my little king has grown. She couldn't help the feeling of pride that swelled in her heart. Even I hadn't thought of that. "It seems you have me figured out," she said. "But if you're right and I'm not Northern, it only means that Ser Jorah's home is all the more exotic to me."

Viserys grit his teeth. "That's beside the point. I made an oath to bring you home as I found you; unwed and a maiden."

"I'm quite sure I was the one who found you," she retorted.

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes.

Bemused Ser Jorah watched the two with wide eyes. "You both bicker like a married couple," he said.

"He only bickers with me because I'm right," Carmella sang jokingly.

"And she only bickers because she's a miserable wench," he said.

"I'll have you for that!" She exclaimed, running after him.

Ser Jorah Mormont

"They're something else aren't they?" Daenerys appeared out of nowhere.

"Truly," he answered stiffly, uncomfortable in the woman's presence. "Do they not see how in love with each other they are?" He blurted involantarily.

"Nope. They both continue to deny it," she replied.

"Will you tell them?"

"No, I will leave them. I'm sure my brother is betrothed to someone else for her family's swords. It's best to leave it, spare them from heartbreak down the line."

Jorah regarded the girl, who looked wise beyond her years. "For all we know she could be the girl he's betrothed to. I don't know a family that would send their daughter to an exiled king for nothing in return. Perhaps they've instructed her to seduce him."

"Huh," Daenerys said. "You could be right, Ser Jorah."

"Dany!" Viserys called. "Come and speak reason to Ella!"

Chuckling, the khaleesi stalked off, shaking her head good-naturedly. Ser Jorah watched her walk away, savouring how she'd said his name. Stop it, she is not yours to lust over. She is a girl, young enough to be your daughter. A princess! And His Grace would kill me . . . It had taken Jorah a while to respect the king, what with his rather short and horrid temper and unpleasantly high sense of self-entitlement, but it had happened. Eventually. He'd soon come to see the king's better qualities; his resourcefulness and perseverance being the ones the knight admired the most. Three months he has been at this sword training, and he never complains, not when I throw him to the ground, not when the other men snigger at him, and he is clearly clever too, always asking about the North and the Wall. King Viserys was steadily acquiring more and more of his knight's esteem. He has no natural talent for the sword but he pays attention and can hold his own. Though Jorah was quickly realising that it was Carmella's influence that brought out Viserys' attractive traits. He'd quickly come to like the girl, her quick wit and warrior spirit never failed to amuse him, and he was particularly grateful for her ability to soothe Viserys when he went into one of his funny moods. Despite her flirtations, Jorah knew the girl held no feelings for him whatsoever, and agreed with the king on that he could never see her wearing heavy furs, holed up in the North with him. She is as Southern as they come. Yet the girl was completely unconcerned with what others thought of her, something that would occasionally lead Jorah to believe she had wildling blood. She fights with Drogo's men and holds her own ignoring the stares of their wives and shares a tent with His Grace ignoring the whispers of the khalasaar. Though most did not frown upon the latter. Except Jorah at first, as he'd believed the two were secretly coupling. Gods was I shocked to find that they did nothing worse then bump ankles.

"Ser Jorah?" Carmella stood by him, her long hair billowing in breeze. "Sorry about Viserys earlier. I'll stop the flirting now."

"It's fine, my lady," he returned.

"I know who you truly have eyes for," she said slyly. "Dany is beautiful, no?"

The knight's breath hitched in his throat. "My lady I do apologise—"

She held her hands up to stop him. "No need. I don't blame you. Just know that you will have to be much more subtle, lest Drogo finds out."

"Or His Grace," he agreed.

"I have a feeling Viserys already knows," her eyes followed the aforementioned man fondly, Jorah noticed how she bit her lip whenever Viserys would spy her watching him and wave.

"You do?"

"He is not so blind as he would have us believe," she told him.

"He's a strong man, my lady," Jorah said, so as to change the topic. "I believe he'll make a fine king," he wasn't quite sure of that as yet, but he didn't believe he'd be a bad one, certainly much better than his sire.

"He will won't he?" Carmella turned to face the man, and he was forced to stare right into her face, something he'd staunchly avoided since learning of Viserys' affection for her.

Seven hells she is beautiful, he gripped the hilt of his sword firmly. Her eyes were a deep blue always glittering with the fire behind them, eyes that would enchant anyone she set them to, and her lips were full and deep red always pulled up in a smile around her perfectly white teeth. It was her hair though, that the man was fascinated by, he'd never seen such dark hair in his life, it was raven and glossy and almost certainly not her own. It is part of her disguise, he decided, a good part, it suits her well and is the one thing stopping me from figuring out what House she is from. Jorah had often thought Carmella's hair to be golden, like the sun. Maybe she is a Lannister.

"Ser Jorah?" She gripped his shoulders.

"Aye, sorry my lady," her touch was alien to him and did not make him feel as he imagined it might; she is beautiful undoubtedly, but she is not the khaleesi.

"Well, do you? Do you think he will make a good one?"

"Make a good what?" Viserys appeared out of nowhere, arms crossed. "Unhand my knight, Carmella."

She did so hurriedly. Ser Jorah knew why: whenever the king used her full name it was always wise never to antagonise him further. "I was only asking if he thinks Robb Stark would make a good husband. I have reason to believe my parents will force me to wed him and Ser Jorah is Northern."

Ser Jorah reeled silently at how easily the lie fell off the girl's tongue; he did not think less of her for it, for he knew the truth of what she was asking would enrage the king, but he hadn't thought she had it in her. She is dangerous, he quickly summarised, most definitely a Lannister then. Surprisingly, it made the knight like her no less. More even. "I was just about to tell my lady that I have never been acquainted with Robb Stark. I imagine he is as just and honourable as his father though," he added sourly.

"I've already told you anyways Ella, you won't be marrying the Stark boy."

Her eyes fell to the ground. "I might have to, in order to bring the North to your cause."

"I would rather force them to my cause with fire and blood than bind you to some wolf," he said harshly. "Come, Dany has invited us to dine with her tonight," he offered her his arm, which she accepted quickly but not without a witty comment.

"Is that a request or an order, Your Grace?"

"I wish I could order you about," he said as they began walking away, "would make my life much easier."

Bemused once more, Jorah watched the couple. For some reason, he did hope that Carmella was the girl the king was secretly betrothed to. It will be hard for him to find someone else so devoted to him.

Viserys, Third of His Name

Dinner with his sister had been hard for Viserys to bear. It always was when her handmaidens waited on her. Their concerned fussing and clear loyalty to Dany always rubbed him the wrong way; more so because once upon a time, Doreah had been his bedwarmer, had followed his every whim and now she barely spared him a glance, her eyes only for the khaleesi. I suspect she she's attracted to my sister and all, he thought bitterly, her, Ser Jorah, who else will I have to compete with my sister for? Even Carmella had paid Daenerys more attention than him during their dinner, braiding Dany's hair in some elaborate style to entice her husband, chatting about one of Drogo's men that apparently had a crush on Carmella and other things that girls discussed. Viserys sorely hoped Westeros would not be filled with people who'd prefer to serve his sister than him. If it is so I may as well just give her my throne now and save myself from the disappointment.

"Hey Viserys," Carmella called from some corner in their shared tent. "Come here for a second."

He did as she asked obediently. "Yes?"

"There's a knot in my hair at the back that I can't reach," she explained. "Can you see it?"

He could. Her hair had grown long the past three months, well past her waist, and the Dothraki had no other solution than to braid it which for some reason Carmella was firmly against. "You want me to undo it?"

"Please."

Gently, he slid his fingers into her ebony locks, admiring how soft it was. The knot wasn't all that big and Viserys thought she could've reached it without his help, yet he said nothing and deftly smoothed her hair. "Want me to braid it?" He asked when he was done.

"No."

"You have to do something with it," he said. "It will only grow more knotty."

"Well I have you to get rid of the knots, don't I?" She turned to face him. "Are you all right?"

Should I let her change the topic? He asked himself. Sure, why not? Hrr hair is a trivial matter and I would not argue over it. "Perfectly fine," he slouched back to his bed.

"You needn't lie to me Viserys," she said. "I know that dining with Dany always . . . Affects you."

"So why ask?" He snapped.

"I suppose you're right," she said. "But talk to me. If you keep your feelings bottled up they will only fester."

"You always give wise counsel," he accused. "Yet you never follow it."

"I don't know what you mean," she answered tartly.

Yes you do, Ella, you always know what I mean. He watched the girl intently for a while, as he'd grown accustomed to doing since they began sleeping together. He wished she would just tell him what House she was from, so he could truly begin planning his conquest, yet whenever he broached the subject she refused. Maybe he would force the issue if he didn't care for her. But he did, so instead he respected her wishes and consoled himself with the fact that whatever family she came from, they hadn't seen in years, and he had. He knew at least that they were a powerful House, maybe Wardens of somewhere even, since Carmella often spoke of wedding Robb Stark, the heir to Winterfell, which could only happen if Carmella were a suitable match. Suitable match or not she won't marry him. I can't have her so far away from me.

"You never speak to me about your feelings," he continued. "It's always me that has my every thought analysed."

"You're to be my king, I have to make sure you're worthy to sit the throne."

This irritated him. "Worthy or not, it belongs to me."

"Sure," she said, clearly not wanting to argue.

Viserys didn't mind, he'd rather not argue either. Which was a rarity in itself. Anyhow, the reminder that Carmella wouldn't support his claim to the throne unless she thought him deserving often comforted him.

"So tell me," he ordered.

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me about some of your thoughts and feelings."

She laughed. "That's not exactly how it works."

"Fine. Tell me why you're so accepting of a possible union between you and Stark."

"An alliance with the North would ensure the Lannisters couldn't ever threaten you."

"You've told me already that the North won't call their banners against the Usurper. Him and Ned Stark are like brothers."

Carmella bit her lip and Viserys knew she was hiding something. "But there is mo love lost between the Starks and the Lannisters. Lady Catelyn Stark imprisoned Lord Tyrion Lannister thinking he'd ordered the murder against her now crippled son."

"What?" He was enraged now. "You've told me none of this!"

"You were happy," she said, and the mere ridiculousness of the statement stopped Viserys in his tracks. "You were laughing and being rational and I didn't want Westeros to ruin it."

"Westeros is my kingdom, Ella," he forced the nickname through his teeth. "Everything that happens in it, I must know."

"I know, Your Grace, I apologise," she bit her lip again. "I have reason to believe that the Usurper will not live very long."

Viserys' heart stopped. "Robert is dead?"

"I am not sure," she said. "My sister's letters were heavily coded and very ambiguous. But she believes Robert will not live long, that his wife plots against his life."

Viserys left Carmella in their tent for an hour. He'd had no idea what else to do. He was heartily glad when she did not pursue him. He neared his sister's tent, hoping maybe to confide his feelings to her despite how weird the notion made him feel, he was ready to abandon his idea of burdening Dany with all his messed up feelings when he heard the groans from her tent. Hearing his sister moan in pleasure only added to Viserys' frustrations. I cannot even find a release myself now that Ella has gone and moved into my tent. He stalked off to some lone wood and sat by a tree for a while, beginning to understand how the Northern could pray to them.

When he returned, he was significantly calmer. Yet he felt hollow. Luckily, Carmella had fallen asleep so he did not have to speak to her.

7th of the Fifth Month 299 AC

"Are you okay?" Carmella asked this two nights later.

"It's been two days," Viserys told her calmly. "I'm over it."

"I know you won't ever be over it," she said this into his neck, for they were cuddled up together as Carmella had lost her bundle of blankets in the last raid. "If someone killed you or Dany I don't think I'd ever be over it."

"Well I am," he lied. "Good riddance to him. I still have his sons and loving wife to exact my revenge."

For once Carmella didn't argue that the Usurper's sons were innocent of their father's crimes, the same way Viserys was innocent of Aerys', still he heard her say it all the same.

"Thank you," she said. "For forgiving me. I was afraid you'd never trust me again."

Viserys held her tighter, praying she couldn't feel his growing erection. "You made a mistake. I've made many and you've seen fit to forgive me and continue to lend your family's support."

"That's true," he felt her smile on his skin. "We haven't done this in a while. If Ser Jorah were to see he'd faint," she giggled.

Viserys still didn't like the friendship between his knight and his friend. In fact, he hated it more than he hated the fact that the knight lusted over Daenerys.

"He knows I would never dishonour you."

"The khalsaar don't," she pointed out.

The fact that nearly everyone thought Viserys and Carmella were fucking didn't bother the man. None spoke the Common Tongue so even should they ever find themselves amongst Westerosi nobility they'd have no way of telling anyone, especially not Carmella's parents. It also meant that none of the men tried courting Carmella. Viserys was not foolish enough to think the protectiveness he felt for the girl in his arms was brotherly, he knew that over the past three months he'd somehow managed to become attracted to her once more. It's worse now, he thought as he stroked her hair, because now it's not purely physical, now I like her, I only want her to speak with me, to laugh only with me. He sincerely hoped Carmella had noticed his feelings for her growing, and went to bed every night wishing that she would say something about it. She never did. She would simply chatter girlishly with him about the day's events, ask if he was feeling okay, then drift off to sleep in his arms. She seemed oblivious to his attraction and so he never mentioned it though he wanted to. If I marry her now, then once I get to Westeros the Great Lords would have no choice but to accept it and I would offend nobody. Stop it, Viserys, she clearly doesn't want you, she wants freedom. Life as the Queen would offer Carmella none of the freedom she loved.

"If he dies, what then? I was always meant to take my throne from him," Viserys almost whispered, half-hoping the girl had fallen asleep. "I wanted to push my sword through his thieving heart for what he did to my brother. Cersei Lannister cannot steal that pleasure from me."

"He's a drunken wreck," Carmella said after a while. "He didn't deserve to be slain by you. Let his wife bear the burden of murdering her king and her husband."

"It wouldn't have been a burden," he growled. "It was my deepest wish to kill him! I longed to be the last thing he saw."

"I know," Carmella said softly. "But you must remember that in combat Robert may have bested you despite his obesity. He's had years of fighting and hunting and melee's to hone his skill, and you've had only a few months."

"I don't care," he ignored the truth of her words and focused on the feelings of her hands around his. Viserys almost felt as though it were his wife comforting him. His lady wife assuring him that he was infinitely better than Robert Baratheon.

"I do. Dany would. And you are distantly related anyways, you would not want to kill him. The kinslayer is a cursed person."

"He killed Rhaegar," the sentence wrapped itself tightly around Viserys' chest. "They were kin."

"And look," she urged. "Rhaegar is free, living forever in paradise with his wife and children, and Robert Baratheon has become a fat, drunken joke amongst the realm and will probably die at the hands of his own queen."

Her words managed to soften him somewhat. Viserys would always dream of murdering Robert by his own hand, no matter how cursed the kinslayer is, if only to avenge his brother, but Carmella's words helped him cope with the fact that he might not get the chance to. "You should've told me," he said again. "Never hide things like this from me again."

"I didn't know what you would do," she protested. "I thought you might demand your army if you found out and ruin the progress you've made here."

"I'm not stupid, Ella," he said, though deep down he suspected he might've done some sort of folly if he'd discovered the news under different circumstances.

"I know."

"If he is dead, his son will ascend, but it will most likely be the Lannister bitch who rules in his stead."

"A boy king will make it ever so easy for you to take over,"she rose slightly, her voice seductive and sly. "No true man would want to follow a boy or his mother, they want a proper king. A dragon."

Gods I love it when she talks like this, Carmella's whispered words travelled straight to Viserys' groin.

"And with Robert gone, Ned Stark's loyalty to the throne will weaken, especially if the Lannister's continue offending his family."

"Exactly," Carmella smiled widely. "With the North and possibly Dorne on your side, along with the men from my family, the Lannister armies won't stand a chance. Robert's death is a blessing, Viserys."

Viserys wondered how she could always think so rationally, how she never let emotions cloud the bigger picture. It was a skill he longed to have but could never develop. Word of the Usurper's possible death had only angered him, reminded him of his dead brother, yet for Carmella, it was an opportunity, a blessing. Rhaegar still weighed heavily on his mind, yet his hollowness had subsided and made room for the excitement he felt. It is all coming together, Viserys beamed, Mother I will do you proud, I will put a crown back on Dany's head, I will bring her home. And the Usurper might still be alive, Ella wasn't sure, so I might still get to crush his chest the way he did my brother's.