So I'm thinking maybe I should explain this chapter a bit cause this is one that I am most anxious about just because of the end. Just... it might seem soon that there would be someone sent, however who's to say Cersei doesn't have loyal people in Dany's court ready to strike at any moment?

But I'm just real anxious about this chapter also because of Zhalli/Arya's reaction, that I'll explain much later and then her reaction with Robb. They were married because of an alliance and because Robb needs heirs - even though he has his brothers but he is MARRIED so he should be getting heirs from his wife.

Anyway I'm worried about this chapter and reactions, you know? Anyway sorry for the late update again and thanks for sticking around and reading.


IX

ZHALLI

"DAUGHTER," her eyes turned from the knife she was sharpening.

"Father," Ifakko stood over her, his shadow stopped the sun from reaching her.

"How are you?"

"Well."

Silence fell over them.

"And your husband?"

"Well," at least she thought he was. It had been a week since their marriage, they spent most nights together but they did not spend their days together. He focused on strategies with the Khaleesi and Zhalli spent her days as she usually had, training and spending time with her people. She would have a different life when she went to Westeros, one without her people.

Lowering her head, Zhalli continued to sharpen her sword and found comfort in the harsh sound of stone against metal. Ifakko continued to stand over his daughter, watching her. There had been no change in her, nothing noticeable and it was too soon to tell if she was with child. There was part of Zhalli that hoped she was not with child, she had only just married her husband who was considerably kind to her and she wanted to get to know him. Bringing a child into their marriage would further test them, in a way Zhalli was unprepared for.

"You have done me proud," Ifakko suddenly grunted, tearing his eyes away from his daughter as she looked up.

"Father," Zhalli rose slowly, letting the sword rest by her side and gripping the rock in her hands tighter.

"You have," he sniffed. "You married a man you deserved, of a high station. You have married a Khal."

"Will you come with us to Westeros?"

"Yes," he pressed his lips together. "But I may stay with the Khaleesi."

"I understand," Zhalli felt her heart expand with happiness and love for her father. "You make me happy, Father, with your approval."

"I am glad," Ifakko then looked over at the sparring Dothraki, "Now, I must leave."

Zhalli watched as her father turned, moving toward the men who did not stop sparring. Those who were not inclined their heads in respect toward the tall man with a long, brown ponytail. He was a force to be reckoned with, Zhalli thought as she watched her father step in line to speak to two younger men. Deciding to leave the training grounds, Zhalli headed immediately to the armoury where she would place her sword back and the sharpening tool. She was slow to move, especially when she saw her husband's sister.

Arya Stark was a formidable warrior, she noted and had heard others commenting one. She was light on her feet, well-practiced and the blade looked as though an extension of her arm. Crouched low, Arya watched the movement of the man in front of her who gripped his sword tightly and gritted his teeth. Arya remained calm as she gracefully glided out of the way of the man who swung his sword down, attempting to cut her down. Arya seemed unmoved, she danced around the man who grew frustrated quickly as he was unable to get a hit on her.

"She is a strong warrior," she heard one of the elders' comment, standing not too far from her.

"She would do well married to a Khal," another elder agreed.

Somehow Zhalli doubted that her husband would marry off his sister to a Khal, especially a Dothraki Khal. Turning, Zhalli headed inside the palace and made way to the armoury. Nodding at the Unsullied who guarded the armoury, she placed the sharpening tool down and then placed her sword with her father's belongings. But she turned and paused, noticing armours and weapons that had not been there before. Hesitantly, Zhalli made her way toward the weapons and the armour.

What caught her eye was a large sword, made of dark material that was almost taller than her, it appeared. Zhalli reached out to touch it, running her fingers down the dark steel as she gazed at her reflection. Looking up at the hilt, Zhalli wondered what it would be like to wield such a great sword but doubted she would have the strength to carry the weight. Hearing someone clear their throat, Zhalli pulled back her hand and turned around, facing her husband's sister.

"What are you doing?" The woman demanded, scowling at Zhalli and stepping forward. "Why are you touching my Father's sword?"

"I-I," Zhalli swallowed. "I had never seen these weapons before, I was curious."

Arya Stark sniffed. Her hair was matted, her face read and sweaty from her fight. "Right," she then shuffled forward to put her own sword down and her armour. "You should have Robb here."

"Why?"

"Because he'll tell you about Ice," she then nodded to the great sword. "He'd tell you the tale of our father, how great a man he was." Arya snorted, "As if he was a hero."

"And you disagree?"

"Yes," Arya Stark's nostrils flared. "I watched my father lose his head in front of me. He was not a hero and he was not brave. He was too honourable and that got him killed."

"Honour," Zhalli understood the concept, the word was strange in the Common Tongue.

"Yes," Arya nodded. "At least my brother didn't follow in his footsteps, from what I remember of Robb he would've gotten himself killed over his honour."

"And you have no honour?"

A sly smile came over Arya's face, "Any honour I ever had left me a long time ago."

Zhalli watched as the woman turned to leave the armoury and Zhalli felt strangely compelled to follow her, to ask her more questions. Zhalli pushed her fingers through her hair, gritting her teeth and growing more curious about her husband's family. They did not speak much at night, he had not mounted her after their wedding either. Zhalli would lay awake at night, her husband sleeping quietly beside her. They were distant from each other, not that Zhalli would expect them to grow close as they did not know each other but she wanted to know more of her husband.

Leaving the armoury herself, Zhalli headed through the palace. Zhalli wondered when they would be leaving to Westeros, she was curious and she had not heard much more about it. Pushing her fingers through her hair, Zhalli came to a stop when she noticed Vorsakko standing with his older brother Rhaego. Zhalli blinked and her mind turned to when she had seen the child place his hand in the fire. Everyone knew the Khaleesi was immune, so it would not have been surprising that her son had inherited something very similar to her.

"Queen Zhalli," she turned her head slowly, surprised at the title.

"Dacey Mormont?" Zhalli blinked up at the tall woman who leaned over her. "Is there something wrong?"

"No," Dacey shook her head, "But King Robb would like to see you."

"Yes," Zhalli then nodded. "Let's go. What does he need to see me about?"

"I don't know," Dacey admitted as the two women began walking away from Daenerys's children. "But he asked me to find you and bring him to you."

"Good," Zhalli then nodded and followed Dacey, Dacey's legs were long and her steps were quick. Zhalli almost needed to run to follow after her.

Khal Robb Stark and his people were inside their shared chambers, Zhalli followed Dacey and watched as Robb spoke to a man beside him. The man then nodded, making eye contact with Zhalli. His eyes widened and he suddenly lurched forward, bowing as Zhalli had seen other people do to the Khaleesi. He then muttered something to her quickly good day Queen Zhalli. He then bowed to Dacey, good day Lady Dacey and then disappeared. Zhalli turned to watch him go as he walked even faster, fist clenched tightly as the doors closed behind his retreating figure.

"Queen Zhalli," the largest man in the room boasted, grinning at her. "It is good to see you."

"Jon," her husband had a tone of warning.

"She will not become fearful of me," the man rolled his eyes. "She is a Dothraki and you've seen her father, Your Grace."

"I know," Robb then moved toward his wife. "Queen Zhalli," the title sounded foreign on his lips, she wasn't sure how she felt about it. "These are some of my most trusted advisors, Lord Greatjon Umber, his son Lord Smalljon Umber and Lord Robett Glover." Zhalli had not noticed the last man at their wedding, and she would have.

Zhalli watched each of the large men who studied her and she looked up at Dacey. Dacey Mormont walked toward the men, coming to stand by the table they were standing at and Zhalli moved with her. She came to stand between Dacey and the man by the name of Robett Glove. The man then moved to have her standing between Dacey and her husband. Zhalli looked down at the table and was surprised at the strange image that was on the table, she reached out to run her fingers over the image.

"It's a map of Westeros," her Khal explained and she looked up, meeting his blue eyes. "This is the North," he pointed to the largest section on the map. "And this is Winterfell, my home," he pointed to small writing.

"This is what you and the Khaleesi plan to take?"

"To take back," he corrected. "This will be our Kingdom," he outlined a large area with his finger. Zhalli's heart thundered in her chest and there was finally the reality that set in. She was a Khaleesi and the land she would have was huge… she stared at it in amazement.

All of it, the large space he had traced with his finger belonged to them. Zhalli placed her hand flat on top of the map, studying each line and text with her eyes. And the Khaleesi… she would have the rest, Zhalli let her hand trace down the end of the map. What was Westeros like? She could not imagine it in her mind's eye, all she could think of was grander cities than Meereen and very pale people like the Khaleesi and her husband. Zhalli looked at him now, how he rubbed the bags under his eyes.

"This is yours," Zhalli did not ask, she merely let the words slip from her mouth. "You have an impressive Khalasar, Khal Robb."

"Thank you," he pushed his fingers through his hair. "But it's a kingdom, and I'm King Robb."

"It is the same," she furrowed her brows. "Our people will have space to roam?"

"They should do," Robb shrugged his shoulders. "But I think most of the Dothraki will be around here," he pointed to an area very south of the map. "It seems like a place that would be comfortable and familiar to them."

"How?"

"It's warm there, dry," he wiped his sweating forehead with the back of his palm. "I couldn't say for sure but I'd gather it's like this."

"They will stay with Khal Drogo," she almost remined herself. She was not the Khaleesi of the Dothraki, she was one of them.

"They will," Robb scratched his temple. "But I have enough men to take back the North anyhow."

"To take back the North?" She looked to the North the place he had pointed to that would be theirs.

"We lost it long ago," he explained. "It was taken from us by traitors."

Traitors, she knew of traitors as they had them before. Her father had told her of traitors, men who would swear their allegiance to them only to turn around and then place their allegiance in another's hands, betraying the first they had sworn themselves to. Zhalli always found it… off putting, knowing of traitors. Perhaps there was more about Westeros she needed to learn, but her husband was always with the Khaleesi or busy planning – it did not seem that he would spend any time with her. Zhalli removed her hands from the map and rested her fingertips on the edge of the table.

Holding her sword in front of her, Zhalli stepped forward and dragged her food across the ground. It was then she noticed someone watching her, turning slowly, Zhalli came around to face Arya Stark. The woman was studying her, lips pressed together and watching as she practiced her techniques. Zhalli tore her eyes away from Arya Stark and looked across the yard to the man who was practicing with her, her father. Ifakko strode across the grounds, coming to stand in front of her and she held the sword up, directly at her father's chest.

"You are doing well," he complimented as he studied her. "I am proud."

"I am ready to fight in a war? Should we take Westeros?"

"You should not," Ifakko looked to her womb. "You should be providing the Khal with his heir. You should be large with child when we sail to Westeros, that is your duty."

"Duty," she sneered. "Father, I can fight."

"I know this, I have trained you to fight," Ifakko stepped back. "But you are a Khaleesi now, and fighting is not what should be on your mind. You should be focused on an heir, one strong. Like your Khal."

Zhalli had known her womb was something important, it would carry her sons and her daughters. But she had not thought her father would be the one to pressure her, why was this? She stared at her father as he turned back to her, long braid swinging between his shoulder blades as he took his place at the edge of the training pit. He then turned around to face her, nodding at her and Zhalli placed herself in a crouching position. But another person came to stand beside her, staring at the side of her face.

"Goodsister, Queen Zhalli," turning at her foreign title, Zhalli was even more confused at the first part of the way she had been addressed. Arya Stark moved around her, watching her as if she was a cat and Zhalli was her prey.

"Good… sister…" Zhalli furrowed her brows. "What does this mean?"

"It is what you are to me, my brother's wife, my goodsister," Arya explained. "Your fighting style, it is impressive. But the sword is not your chosen weapon?"

"No," Zhalli admitted. "I much prefer the bow, or the whip," she studied Arya. "But the sword is your choice?"

"I believe there is no finer weapon than a blade," Arya heled up her sword, watching it closely.

"Hm," Zhalli held up her own blade, watching over it. "We will have to agree to disagree."

"Would you like to spar?" Arya suddenly offered the challenge. "I think we're worth more than our womb too," she sent a cutting glare to Zhalli's father. "I'm sure my brother wouldn't object to you taking moon tea until we arrive in Westeros."

"Moon tea?" Zhalli was curious, "What is that?"

"I can make some," Arya then smiled. "We have the ingredients."

"But what is it?" Zhalli demanded, growing impatient.

"Moon tea will prevent a babe from taking root," Arya's eyes flickered to the area of Zhalli's body that her womb rested inside. "It will stop a child from becoming."

"So… I will not give your brother an heir?" Zhalli shook her head, "Will this be permanent?"

"No, as soon as you stop taking moon tea you will become with child, unless there were problems before hand."

"I cannot," Zhalli shook her head. "It is not right. We do not take such a thing."

"My daughter is right," Ifakko came to join the two women who were speaking. "We do not believe in such a thing."

Arya Stark looked between them, "And if you are with child? How are you supposed to fight the men in iron with child? My brother would not let you, at the most he'd request you don't move."

Zhalli did not know what to do. Whilst getting with child so soon to when they would ride to Westeros seemed… irresponsible, she knew it was her duty. It was why she had married Khal Robb in the first place, to give him an heir. If she were to fail on that duty she would be seen as… not fit for marriage. And the Khaleesi had given birth to Rhaegal so soon after her wedding to Khal Drogo, and she had survived. Three births, three strong sons she had given birth to. Zhalli was stronger than the Khaleesi, but still – was it a good idea to get with child?

"Father, I must go," she inclined her head toward him and turned on her heels to get out of there quickly.

"What will you do?" She heard Arya call after her, the girl following her quickly.

"I will take this moon tea," Zhalli then said as they were far from her father. "But we will tell no one."

"Not even Robb?"

"What will he say if I were to take the moon tea?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Arya mused. "But I doubt he'd be happy with the choice."

"Why not?"

"Because men are strange about heirs, yet women are supposed to carry them," she rolled her eyes.

"Then I will not tell him," Zhalli was sure of herself. "You will teach me to brew this tea and I will not become with child, only until after we have taken Westeros from the usurpers."

"Good," Arya came to walk in front of her. "Follow me."

Arya Stark's quarters were quite near Zhalli's quarters with her husband. But they were smaller, almost hidden and there was only one window which was drawn back. There was a fire that was still going even in the warmth and all the blankets and pillows were stripped off the bed, instead placed in front of the fire. Zhalli thought it strange, as there was a bag on the end of the bed too. Arya Stark looked as if she could quickly grab her belongings and leave, if she needed to.

"Wait here," Arya pointed to the table and chairs by the fire.

Zhalli watched as the woman returned to where she was sitting by the fire. Arya had a bag full of all sorts of things, Zhalli watched as Arya began to remove the ingredients and placed them out before her. She then pointed to each of them, telling Zhalli their name and then placing them in a cup of hot water. Zhalli was curious as Arya mixed all of them together and then held it out to Zhalli. There was a tense moment between them, before Zhalli reached over to grasp the warm cup.

"I should warn you," Arya began, "It's not the nicest tea. In fact, it's horrid."

Slowly, Zhalli pulled the cup to her lips and took a sip of the hot liquid. Her mouth then curled in disgust and she coughed, swallowing the liquid before pulling back. "You're right," she spluttered.

"You have to drink all of it," Arya urged her. "If not, there is a chance you will still become with child."

Closing her eyes, Zhalli down the rest of the tea in quick gulps. It burnt her throat and her mouth, she finished and pulled the cup away from her mouth, slamming it down on the furs. Her face scrunched up as she looked at Arya Stark who was leaning back, hands grasping her ankles and watching Zhalli. She felt the moon tea go down her body, she really did not like the taste and she shivered. Although, she knew that taking the moon tea would be beneficial because having a child would be too difficult in such a time. She rubbed her throat, it still ached from the moon tea and there was still the disgusting taste left behind from the moon tea in her mouth.

"This will make sure I do not have a child?"

"Yes," Arya nodded her head slowly. "If you take it constantly, especially after sex it will stop a child."

"Thank you," Zhalli then smiled at the woman, her… goodsister.

"You are welcome," Arya then stood and handed her the bag full of ingredients for the moon tea to Zhalli. "I do not need it anymore."

"You are with child?"

"No," Arya shook her head, twisting her mouth. "No, but I am not going to be lying with a man for a long while."

"Why not?"

Arya suddenly rolled her eyes, "Because I have been reunited with my brother."

"What does that matter?" Zhalli stood up and followed Arya to the window, where she pushed back the window coverings and looked out at Meereen. "Your brother has no say in whether you lie with a man or not."

"But he does," Arya rolled her eyes. "I am not supposed to do such a thing. I am a noblewoman, a Princess," she then snorted. "And my virginity is everything."

"Ah," Zhalli nodded her head slowly. "Yes, I know."

"You would," Arya flicked some hair from her brow. "So… I can't do anything my brother would disapprove of. I don't want to cause him troubles, not now."

"Khal Robb," Zhalli sat across from him, one leg underneath her.

"I have told you to call me Robb," he reminded her as he sat at his desk, studying a letter.

"Will you grow angry with me if I do not wish for a child?"

"What?" He looked up and Zhalli thought it was a bad idea she had taken the moon tea.

"I do not wish to have a child," she clenched her hands into fists. "Not when we are to set sail for Westeros and there will be a war."

Robb Stark studied her and Zhalli stood, hands by her side and challenging him. She had the right, she was his Khaleesi. Robb Stark stopped immediately what he was doing and stood from his seat, Zhalli watched him as he made his way toward her. He stood over her and she had to look up at him, stepping back as he crowded her space. Her husband only seemed to grow large, if such a thing was possible as he swelled in size and she could feel the intimidation that he was showing to strike fear. Why? What was the purpose in causing her to fear him?

Zhalli did not understand.

"I do not understand," Robb shook his head. "We married for you to produce an heir."

"And to strengthen your alliance with Khaleesi, do not forget," she reminded him.

"And part of a marriage is a child," Robb breathed in deeply.

"It is too dangerous for a child," Zhalli narrowed her eyes. "I plan to fight the men in iron, I plan to show them what kind of Khaleesi I will make."

"Fine," Robb suddenly turned his back, "Fine."

"Ifak," she spat under her breath.

"What did you say to me?" Robb turned around quickly, glowering down at his wife.

"Nothing," she snarled.

"What did you say?" He said the words much slower and he reached out to grasp her chin, finger tips digging into the flesh.

"Nothing," she jerked her chin from his grasp and glowered at him.

"I am sure it was nothing," he sneered. "Why did you ask me such a question?"

"Because I have taken moon tea," she then said. "I have the ingredients and I do not wish to put a child at risk when we land in Westeros."

"Where did you get such a thing?" He demanded of her.

"How is that any of your business?" She tilted her chin up stubbornly.

"It is my business, you are my wife."

"Is my body not my own?"

"I cannot argue any longer," he threw his hands up in frustration. "Excuse me," immediately he stormed toward the door and threw it open. It slammed against the stone wall and Zhalli stepped backward as her husband turned and disappeared through the dark hall. Zhalli stood there, hands clenched in fists and jaw tight as she glowered at the door her husband had disappeared out of.

Throwing herself down on the bed, Zhalli glared up at the ceiling and crossed her arms over her chest. Perhaps she should not have brought it up, but her mother had always told her there were no secrets between husband and wife. Perhaps there should be, Zhalli thought as she rolled over onto her side to gaze into the fire. Why did her husband have to be so stubborn? She did not like it one bit, in fact, she was rather infuriated that he seemed to not want her to fight and only have children. She was Dothraki, made for so much more than just carrying children.

"You," Zhalli suddenly shifted in the bed and she turned her head.

"Who are you?" Zhalli spoke to the shadows.

"Someone who is watching… always watching," the voice sent shivers down her spine. Zhalli slowly put her hand under her pillow, wrapping her hand around the hilt of the dagger she kept there.

"An assassin?" Zhalli curled her lips.

"Perhaps," the person slid into the light, revealing black clothing but their face still remained out of her vision. "I came looking for King Robb Stark, but perhaps I have found the next best thing."

"You have come to kill him?"

"For Queen Cersei," the person held a dagger in their hand. "And for the realm, we cannot let savages on the throne," they sneered and Zhalli knew they would probably target the Khaleesi and Khal Drogo next. She could not let them free.

"Your Khaleesi does not sound good," Zhalli then slid from the bed, holding her own dagger. "She does not sound like my Khaleesi."

"Queen Cersei is a much better Queen and woman than some girl with dragons," the assassin spat and Zhalli narrowed her eyes.

"That girl is my Khaleesi," Zhalli stalked toward the assassin. "And she is a woman."

But as soon as she stepped into the shadows the assassin was gone, "Well done, Queen Zhalli," she felt breath against her ear and she shivered. "But," she felt a blade against her neck. "It is not my time to die and neither is it yours. I only came to warn you that people will want you dead, to give my regards. Goodbye, Queen Zhalli, until we meet again."

Then the blade was gone from her neck as was the presence she had felt behind her. She turned slowly, looking to the window as the curtains moved with the wind. Zhalli looked to the door yet her husband was yet to return so she turned and moved toward the bed. An assassin. What a curious thing. People would want to kill her, well she was not surprised about such a thing as her husband had many enemies and his enemies would become her enemies with their marriage. Her death would mean a lack of heirs on his part, yet he could marry again if she was killed.

Zhalli would not allow an assassin to take her.