A/N: So, it's funny how this chapter was surprisingly controversial. Hopefully everyone likes this edited version. Thanks for the love everyone!

X.

Tyrion was returning to the Red Keep from the Guildhall of the Alchemists when he was informed that Cleos Frey arrived from Riverrun with a letter from Robb Stark.

His cousin was confined to a windowless guardroom in the gatehouse. Ser Cleos looked half a corpse, and Tyrion could only wonder if Jamie looked worse.

"Tyrion, you are a most welcome sight," Ser Cleos admitted.

"That's not something I hear often, cousin."

"Has Cersei come with you?"

"My sister is otherwise occupied. Is this the Stark letter?" Tyrion picked it up from the table. He dismissed the guard as he unrolled the parchment.

"I was asked to bring the offer to the Queen Regent," Ser Cleos said, as Ser Jacelyn departed the room.

"I shall." Robb had sent a map with his letter. "All in good time. Sit. Rest. You look haggard."

Ser Cleos sat down, though he still looked troubled. He mentioned the condition in the riverlands, with the river lords burning their own crops to starve Lord Tywin's army. Tyrion wondered if he should feel pleased that his father's foragers were completing their task of burning down villages. The smallfolk had done nothing to them, but this was war.

"Even with a peace banner, we were attacked twice. Lost three men and twice as many wounded." Ser Cleos was pale when he finished.

"How was Jaime when you left?" Tyrion skimmed Stark's terms. The boy did not want too much. Only half the realm, the release of their captives, hostages, his father's sword, and his sisters.

"Alive," Ser Cleos answered. "So long as the boy remains idle at Riverrun, Jaime will stay alive. Tyrion, he was nearly killed outside of battle by the Targaryen girl."

Tyrion looked up from the letter, startled. "Daenerys Stormborn tried to kill Jaime? How?"

"I was not there, but it was after the Whispering Wood. Some say she tried to slit his throat, while others say she tried to burn him alive." Ser Cleos shifted on the bench. "I got a look of her in Riverrun. She looks half a girl. How could she hurt Jaime?"

He wondered the same thing. He remembered meeting Daenerys Targaryen in Winterfell and could not imagine her harming anyone. She was too soft, even treating Tyrion with courtesy. She had been petrified of even being near Jaime. People changed, Tyrion supposed. Jaime probably didn't seem so threatening when fettered. Tyrion thought of their newest prisoner and smiled.

"She won't hurt Jaime," Tyrion told his cousin, confident. Not if she wants our prisoners alive, he thought.

Within the darkness of the forest, the moon guided Arya.

Moonlight glimmered through the trees as she led her pack. They leapt over logs and left the bodies of outlaws in their wake. She felt strange, like her body was not her own. They neared a pond and Arya slowed to catch her reflection. Blood streaked the lower part of her face. Her shorn hair was long and stirred in the wind. Then, as if struck by lightning, her reflection shifted. Eyes like molten gold stared back at her. Nymeria—?

Suddenly, Arya flinched awake. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes and found herself staring at Gendry's sleeping face. He slept soundlessly on his back beside her, unlike Hot Pie who snored softly. He didn't scowl in his sleep, but did scrunch his nose when a lock of hair fell over his left eye. Arya reached over to push it back, but quickly withdrew her hand when Gendry began to stir.

He tilted his head to look at her, eyes half lidded and still dull with sleep. He drew his brows together. "Did something happen?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

"No." Arya lifted her head to glance around the camp. People were starting to wake up.

After surviving the Lannisters' attack in Gods Eye and roaming through the forest with Gendry, Hot Pie, Lommy, and a girl named Weasel, Arya and her group were captured by the Mountain. They were being taken to serve Lord Tywin Lannister at Harrenhal.

"It's a sin and a shame," an old man hissed, when they had made camp for the night. "When the old king was still alive, he'd not have stood for this."

"King Robert?" Arya couldn't help ask.

"King Aerys, gods grace him." The old man spoke too loudly and a guard knocked his teeth out. No one spoke again afterwards.

Aerys. The Mad King. Dany's father. Arya never heard anyone speak well of the old king. No one was allowed to back in Winterfell. Her father forbade it for Dany's sake, but the older girl knew of her father's reputation. Arya never understood how Dany could walk around and not fly into a rage at the ill mention of her father, but now she did. Arya couldn't say anything if anyone called her father a traitor if she wanted to live.

Does Sansa know? Arya wondered. Out here, no one would tell her if her family lived or not. She could only hope that Sansa remained silent in King's Landing, lest she lose her head too. Arya wondered if the Lannisters were keeping her hostage or… She shoved those thoughts back.

Once they reached Harrenhal, the three of them would be separated. There was nothing Arya could do and she hated it. Even with if they hadn't taken Needle, she couldn't take on the Mountain or any of his men. Gods, Arya hated feeling useless.

"We're going to be separated," Arya whispered, swallowing back her fear. Fear cuts deeper than swords, she remembered. "But I'm going to find a way out. You'll come with me, won't you? You and Hot Pie?"

"Arya…" Gendry hesitated. He didn't believe her, but she refused to let that dissuade her.

"We can't stay there."

"But where else can we go?"

"My brother," Arya answered, frantic. "He's in Riverrun. Promise me, Gendry. Promise you'll come with me when I find a way out."

Gendry stared at her, his blue eyes searching hers. He was scared, but Arya would be brave for the both of them. Able Arya was what Dany called her. If she was so able, then she'd find a way for them to escape. Whatever it took, Arya would do it.

"I promise," he finally said, and his words lingered with Arya as they entered Harrenhal.

Lady Stark believed that Bran had not fallen from the First Keep, but was thrown. She went further to accuse the Kingslayer of pushing him. Dany believed her. She wouldn't put it past the Lannisters to harm children. Unfortunately, Lady Stark had long left to treat with Renly, leaving Dany to complete the task of questioning the Kingslayer.

It was an uncomfortable thing to do, but Dany would get Lady Stark her answers.

The guards looked at her strangely when she brought the Kingslayer's meal herself. Were they afraid she poisoned his meal? Dany wondered if word spread about the incident in the Whispering Wood. Perhaps Robb wanted to avoid another confrontation and made certain the guards would grant her no access.

One guard watched her carefully. "Pardons, m'lady, but Ser Edmure says no one is to see the Kingslayer without a writing from him, with his seal upon it."

"King Robb has granted me access." The confidence in her voice perfected her lie, and none of the guards spoke again.

Disgust unraveled in her belly as she entered the Kingslayer's cell. His cell had more luxury than he deserved. Dany could only hope the Lannisters offered a similar kind of hospitality. She turned to look at Robb's prisoner lounging on the featherbed, and stiffened under his quizzical stare.

"Lady Daenerys," he said. "The cut you gave me didn't leave a scar. I suppose you're here to give a lasting one?"

"No." She set his meal on the table near the window. When the Kingslayer made no move, she asked, "Will you let it go untouched?"

"Such generosity from you seems suspect, my lady."

"I would never poison you."

"Foolish of me to think so," he laughed. Dany stepped away from when he neared. Even with no weapons and the guards outside, she was still afraid of what he could do. "I don't plan to murder you with a spoon."

"Like I would trust you," Dany retorted, crossing her arms. His golden hair was tousled from sprawling on the bed and stubble covered his jaw. Facial hair or clean shaven, he was still more beautiful than any other man she ever met.

The Kingslayer noticed her staring. He had the nerve to smile. "I've known hate, but none such as yours. You have a… peculiar way of expressing it," he noted, tasting his meal. "If you did not come here to poison me, then surely it was to have your way with me?"

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"If that will keep my head, why not slip out of that gown? You're young for me, I'll admit, but I can see if I'm up for it."

Dany could taste the revulsion at the back of her throat. "I could kill you for saying that."

"You won't, because you can't."

"No more games, Kingslayer," Daenerys said sharply. "There are things I must know."

"Why should I tell you anything?"

"Because I can end your life."

"You think I fear death?" That seemed to amuse him.

"You should fear the kind of death I will give you."

He leaned back in his chair, chuckling. "Will you give me to the flames? That was your father's favored method."

Hearing him speak of her father infuriated her. She hid her trembling fist behind her back. The Kingslayer seemed to feed on weakness.

"How did Robb's brother Bran fall?" Dany suddenly asked. She was here for Lady Stark, not to get mocked.

Lannister paused, the question catching him off guard. He gazed upon her, his green eyes so focused on hers it made her falter. "It's a shame you killed your mother. She would have loved to see how comely you've grown."

His words slowly sunk in and for an instant, Dany could not speak. When she found her voice, she could only say unsteadily, "You're a monster."

Something shifted in his expression. His smile waned and the cruel glint in his eyes dulled. "You say that, but only because you haven't met your father."

She whirled and left, unable to bear looking at him any longer. Dany tripped as she ran down the stairs, her tears blinding her. She grabbed the railing to keep from falling. Once she was outside, Dany tried to suppress her sobs. She refused to walk through Riverrun crying.

Dany wasn't sure who was worse—him or the Usurper.

When she finally stopped crying, Dany stood and wiped her face clean of tears with the sleeves of her gown. She entered the castle and tried to avoid everyone as she headed to the godswood. It was different from the one back in Winterfell, but it was a godswood nonetheless. Dany wasn't one for prayer. The old gods weren't hers nor was she connected to the Seven, but the godswood reminded her of Jon and the Starks. It was safe there.

Dany knelt before the heart tree. She closed her eyes and prayed for everyone's safety. Sansa and Arya in King's Landing, Robb and Jon in the westerlands, and Bran and Rickon in Winterfell. When her knees began to ache, Dany shifted until she was lying on her back in the grass. Her mind drifted to Jon. She missed Jon. She missed his contemplative silence, his shy smiles, his comforting words.

Her face warmed as she remembered the morning she gave Jon her maidenhead. How she focused on him instead of the pain, how she felt him slide into where she ached. The hard muscles of his back, his shoulders, his arms. The weight of his hips on her. Jon is in me, Dany had thought, pulling him down heavier on her. She never knew sharing a bed with someone could feel like that. Dany would give herself again once he returned.

Did he think of her? Dany smiled, feeling silly over the thought. It was selfish to wonder, especially with Jon off battling Lannisters, but she couldn't help it. She loved him and only wanted him to return to her alive.

"Daenerys," someone whispered.

Dany sat up at the sound of her name, but no one was around. It was just the breeze, she reasoned. The leaves stirred in the light wind, and birds chirped as they abandoned their nests. A blue flower flitted from above and landed on her lap. She picked it up and spun the stem between her thumb and forefinger. What was that game Sansa and Jeyne Poole liked to play? He loves me, he loves me not?

She tucked the flower behind her ear. Removing the petals of such a pretty flower was not worth determining if Jon loved her. Dany knew he did. He didn't even care about her father.

Who was her father? Eddard Stark never told Dany of her father's deeds and forbade anyone else from doing so. That concerned her. She knew he did horrible things because there needed to be a reason why everyone called him the Mad King. Were her father's deeds so awful that Lord Stark couldn't speak of them? If Lord Stark hadn't been prepared to tell her about her father, then that left… him.

Most of what she knew of her family had come from books, and the rest from her great-great uncle. The Kingslayer served under her father, so he knew the truth. The idea of returning to his cell repulsed her. He would undoubtedly make getting answers difficult, yet Dany resolved to get them. She refused to run crying.

Daenerys was finished letting the Kingslayer have control over her.

Yesterday, Ser Cleos Frey returned with red cloaks from King's Landing. They pledged their peace and surrendered their weapons, so Ser Edmure granted them freedom of the castle. Dany kept her eyes on them, distrustful of their intentions.

"Ser Edmure," Dany called, when she found him. He was in the Great Hall with some of his guards, drinking mead and trading jests.

"Lady Daenerys," the knight greeted, smiling. He was growing out a beard that was a brighter shade of red than what was on his head. "You are as beautiful as the rising sun."

Dany smiled, hoping her cheeks weren't reddening. "That's kind of you to say," she murmured. "It's time we spoke to Ser Cleos."

Ser Edmure sobered up at the mention of Frey. He bid farewell to his drinking companions and offered his arm. She took it and followed him to Frey's chambers.

"Beg pardons if you are bored. Riverrun has no ladies to keep you company in times like this," Ser Edmure said.

"You can keep me company. I'm hurt, ser, that you have not even attempted to inquire if I'm enjoying my stay here." She laughed at his stunned silence. "I only jest, ser. These are times of war and my comfort is the least of importance."

Ser Edmure seemed relieved at that, and more so when they reached Frey's bedchambers. Ser Cleos stood when they entered, his eyes widening at the sight of them. He does not look like a lion, reflected Dany. He had the stringy brown hair, weak chin, and thin face of the Freys.

"Ser Edmure. La-lady Daenerys," he stammered.

"You brought peace terms?" Dany asked, sitting down on a bench. Ser Edmure joined her.

"I did." Ser Cleos sat opposite of them.

"Tell us," she commanded. When he was finished, she glanced at Ser Edmure. He was frowning. Despite the promise of exchanging Sansa and Arya for the Kingslayer, these terms were unreasonable.

"It's not possible. Robb will never consent to these terms," Ser Edmure said.

"Did you see Sansa and Arya Stark? Are they treated well?" Dany questioned, clutching the edge of the bench.

The knight hesitated. "I… yes, they seemed..."

The fumbling of his words and the sweat on his brow made her suspicious. If he was lying, he was doing an awful job at it. "Ser Cleos," she began sweetly, "deceiving me is most unwise. Robb is not here, so he cannot stop me if I deem you unfit to live. So tell me, did you see Sansa and Arya?"

He swallowed thickly, the lump in his throat bobbing unsteadily. "I saw Sansa at court, the day Tyrion told me his terms. She looked most beautiful—not as beautiful as you, my lady. Perhaps a… a bit wan. Drawn, as it were."

"And Arya?"

"I… I'm afraid not, my lady."

Arya was more outspoken than Sansa. Cersei might have killed her for her brazenness. Dany tried to block out the thought. "Thank you, ser," she said, standing. Ser Edmure followed her out. "Any word from Robb?"

"I'm afraid not, my lady. Taking the field leaves them with no time to write," Ser Edmure told her. "Shall I escort you to your rooms?"

"The godswood," Dany corrected, accepting his arm. At least she had some information about Sansa. Arya… The girl was able. She could sustain herself until Robb found her. Nonetheless, she'd pray to the old gods to keep her safe. Praying, however, was not enough for Dany. She wanted to do more. She had to do something.

If she couldn't find Arya, the least Dany could do was interrogate the Kingslayer. She finally worked up the courage to approach his cell two days later, when the sun was asleep below the sky and the Great Hall was filled with music.

If I look back I am lost, Dany thought.

Robb's prisoner sat near the window, staring out into the darkness. He turned away to watch her enter the cell. Ignoring the flutter of nerves in her belly, Dany moved toward the chair near him.

"Can't stay away, can you?" were his first words. She wanted to tear his smile off his face. He smiled at her like she was nothing more than a lamb.

"You know about Bran's fall, Kingslayer," Dany started, "the truth. Speak it now."

"Oh, it's truth you want? Be careful, my lady. Tyrion says that people often claim to hunger for truth, but seldom like the taste when it's served up."

"Tell me," Dany insisted.

"If you share a drink with me."

There was something wrong with sharing a drink with her father's murderer. Something like this only happened in nightmares, but Dany needed the truth. She sent a servant to fetch them a flagon of wine. The Kingslayer began to hum a song as they waited. "The Bear and the Maiden Fair" from the tune of it.

"Let's play a game, my lady," the Kingslayer suggested, when the servant returned with a flagon and two cups. "For each question you ask, I shall answer if you answer each question I have. Simple enough?"

"Fine." If playing his games would give her answers, Dany would do it. She swallowed a mouthful of wine, and the taste of plums burst on her tongue. "How did Robb's brother Bran fall?"

"You waste no time," he noted, "and I flung him from a window."

The nonchalance in his voice made her not understand his words. Her throat was tight as she grasped his response. He pushed a child out of a tower window. How could he do such a thing with no remorse?

"Do all my kin still live?" Lannister asked, sipping his wine.

"They live," she answered softly. It was a good thing she did not wield a dagger, else the Kingslayer would be dead. "Why did you fling him from a window?"

"He was spying on us. Cersei and me."

"What were you doing with Cersei?"

"Fucking mostly, and you owe me two answers."

Dany was stunned. He and his sister… She could not say anything, not when her own parents were brother and sister. That explained why Cersei's children looked nothing like the Usurper.

"You could say Cersei and I like to pretend we're Targaryens," he goaded, smirking over the rim of his cup. "Have Robert's brothers taken the field?"

"They have."

"Now there's a stingy response. Give me more than that, or you next answer will be as poor."

"Stannis is still gathering strength the last we heard," she said grudgingly. "Renly is camped beneath the walls of Bitterbridge."

"What side have the Tyrells taken?"

"Renly's. He's married to Lord Tyrell's daughter."

"Poor girl. She's likely to die a maid," the Kingslayer remarked. His eyes were cruel as he added, "Stark must be feeling lonely. Unfortunate you aren't with him to warm his bed."

He's my brother, she almost said, but then he would have twisted her words into a joke. "I thought knights were supposed to be courteous in the presence of ladies?"

He lifted his hands. "Beg pardons, my lady. It seems the longer I dwell here, the more my courtesies rust. Ask your next question."

"There was a man who tried to kill Bran when he was recovering. Did you hire them?" she questioned.

"I would have slain the boy myself before hiring anyone to do it," he answered, and Dany could hear it in his voice that he was being truthful.

"But you meant to kill him," Dany stated, "why not finish it?"

"Why bother, when the boy seemed likely to die of his own accord?" He shrugged, and took a languid swig of his wine.

"You swear you had no part in sending him?"

"On my honor as a Lannister."

"Your honor as a Lannister is worth less than shit," Dany snapped. He was vile and it frustrated her that she couldn't kill him. "Knights are sworn to protect the weak and innocent. You are nothing but a monster."

"You've never met your father," he said coolly.

"Tell me why you killed him," she demanded, slamming her empty cup down. "You owe me that, Kingslayer."

The Kingslayer regarded her. She stared at him, her heart beating faster the longer he remained silent. He was scaring her again, just as he did at the welcoming feast in Winterfell.

"Are you certain you're ready for the truth?" he questioned. Her insides knotted in fear. Was the truth so evil that even the Kingslayer didn't want to speak it?

If I look back I am lost.

"I must know," she told him.

"Well, my lady, there is so much that led to me killing your father. I don't even know where to begin," he said, reclining in his seat. "Ah. I know. How about the ugly tale of Ned Stark's father and brother? I doubt he told you or his family the manner of their deaths."

"What does this have to do with—?"

"I want you to understand who your father was." Lannister took a swallow of wine, then wiped his mouth. "Brandon Stark rode to the Red Keep with a few companions to rescue his sister from your brother, shouting for Prince Rhaegar to come out and die. But Rhaegar wasn't there. Aerys sent his guards to arrest them all for plotting his son's murder."

Rhaegar. He must have already taken Lyanna Stark with him to the Tower of Joy. Dany took a shaky sip of her wine. She understood why her father would arrest them, just as she understood why Jon's father would want to slay the man who kidnapped his sister.

"There were trials… of a sort. Lord Rickard demanded trial by combat, and your father granted the request. Stark armored himself for battle, thinking to duel one of the Kingsguard. Me, perhaps. Instead they took him to the throne room and suspended him from the rafters while two of Aerys's pyromancers kindled a blaze beneath him. The king told him that fire was the champion of House Targaryen."

No, she thought, clutching her cup. She had an idea where this was going, but Dany couldn't stop him. She needed to know.

"When the fire was blazing, Brandon was brought in. His hands were chained behind his back, and around his neck was a wet leathern cord attached to a device the king had brought from Tyrosh. His legs were left free, though, and his longsword was set down just beyond his reach. The pyromancers roasted Lord Rickard slowly. His cloak was caught first, and then his surcoat, and soon he wore nothing but metal and ashes…" He trailed off, watching her face. "Next he would start to cook, Aerys promised, unless Brandon could free him. Brandon tried, but the more he struggled, the tighter the cord constricted around his throat. In the end, he strangled himself."

All this time, Dany thought when Lord Stark said Brandon never returned from the south, he meant he died in battle. Not… this. Jon could never know. She wouldn't want him to know such a grisly tale.

"The steel of Lord Rickard's breastplate turned cherry-red before the end, and his gold melted off his spurs and dripped down into the fire. I stood at the foot of the Iron Throne in my white armor and white cloak, thinking of Cersei. After, Gerold Hightower himself took me aside and said to me, 'You swore a vow to guard the king, not to judge him.' That was the White Bull, loyal to the end and a better man than me, all agree."

Dany couldn't speak. The story was so horrible she couldn't disbelieve it. Why would the Kingslayer make it up? How could her father commit such a nauseating act? How could he kill someone so brutally? Because he's the Mad King, she remembered.

"You…" Dany winced at the tremble in her voice. "You didn't kill my father to avenge Brandon Stark."

"No. The Starks do no love me as they love you." Lannister filled his cup with more wine. "I think it's odd that I am loved by one for a kindness I never did, and reviled by so many for my finest act. Why is it no one names Robert oathbreaker? He tore the realm apart, yet I am the one with shit for honor."

"He will always be an oathbreaker in my eyes," Dany said. Her fingers tightened around her cup. Lannister may have taken her father, but Robert Baratheon took everything else from her.

Lannister barked out a laugh. "Yes. At least we agree on something." He continued to smile, the groggy one she recognized when someone was drunk. "He was an oathbreaker, but he didn't have a white cloak to soil… I wore my gold armor that day, but…"

She frowned. "Gold armor?"

"After Jon Connington lost the Battle of the Bells, Aerys exiled him. He had finally realized that Robert was no mere outlaw lord to be crushed at whim, but the greatest threat House Targaryen had faced since Daemon Blackfyre. The king reminded Lewyn Martell that he held Elia and sent him to take command of the ten thousand Dornishmen coming up the kingsroad. Jon Darry and Barristan Selmy rode to Stoney Sept to rally what they could of griffins' men, and Prince Rhaegar returned from the south and persuaded his father to swallow his pride and summon my father." Lannister smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes.

"But no raven returned from Casterly Rock, and that made the king even more afraid. He saw traitors everywhere, and that damn spider Varys was always there to point out any he might have missed. So His Grace commanded his alchemists to place caches of wildfire all over King's Landing. Beneath Baelor's Sept and the hovels of Flea Bottom, under stables and storehouses, at all seven gates, even in the cellars of the Red Keep itself."

Her eyes widened, and her heart beat resounded in the cell. Her ears pounded from the sound.

"No one knew. Everything was done in the utmost secrecy. Aerys's new mace-and-dagger Hand was not utterly stupid, and with Rossart, Belis, and Garigus coming and going night and day, he became suspicious. Chelsted, that was name. Lord Chelsted. I'd thought the man craven, but the day he confronted Aerys he found some courage somewhere. He did all he could to dissuade him. When everything failed, he took off his chain of office and flung it down on the floor. Aerys burnt him alive for that, and hung his chain about the neck of Rossart, his favorite pyromancer." Lannister paused to swallow his wine. He gestured for her to do the same. Dany's hand shook as she tried to mimic his actions. "And all the time, I stood by the foot of the Iron Throne in my white plate, guarding my liege and all his sweet secrets.

"My Sworn Brothers were all away, but Aerys liked to keep me close. He wanted me where Varys could watch me, so I heard it all. Rhaegar met Robert on the Trident, and you know what happened there. When the word reached court, Aerys packed your mother off to Dragonstone with Prince Viserys. Princess Elia would have gone as well, but he forbade it. Somehow, he had gotten it in his head that Prince Lewyn must have betrayed Rhaegar on the Trident. He thought he could keep Dorne loyal so long as he kept Elia and her children by his side." Lannister's voice dropped as he continued, "The traitors want my city, I heard him tell Rossart, but I'll give them naught but ashes. Let Robert be king over charred bones and cooked meat. Your family never buries their dead, they burn them. Aerys meant to have the biggest funeral pyre of them all.

"Ned Stark was racing south with Robert's van, but my father's forces reached the city first. Pycelle convinced the king that his Warden of the West had come to defend him, so he opened the gates. It fell to me hold the Red Keep, but I knew we were lost. I sent to Aerys asking his leave to make terms. Your father came back with a royal command. 'Bring me your father's head, if you are no traitor.' When I came on Rossart, he was dressed as a common man-at-arms, hurrying to a postern gate. I slew him first. Then I slew Aerys, before he could find someone else to carry his message to the pyromancers. Days later, I hunted down the others and slew them as well."

Her father… she understood now. Why everyone had feared her in Winterfell, why Lord Stark's bannermen hadn't wanted her around. The remaining love and respect for her father shriveled and died at Lannister's words. His blood flowed through her. What if she grew mad as him? Fear coiled within her. How could Lord Stark take her in after what he did? How could Jon love her?

"Has my tale turned you speechless? Come, curse me or call me a liar. Something other than your tears."

Dany finally noticed the warm tears rolling down her cheeks. She couldn't even bother to feel embarrassed from crying in front of the Kingslayer. "If this is true, how is it no one knows?" she questioned, her voice weak.

"The knights of the Kingsguard are sworn to keep the king's secrets. Would you have me break my oath?" Lannister laughed. "Do you think your noble savior Stark wanted to hear my feeble explanation? Such an honorable man. He only had to look at me to judge me guilty." He lurched to his feet. "By what right does the wolf judge the lion? By what right?"

She didn't know. All she knew was that her father, her father… he nearly destroyed the realm. The man she hated her whole life had saved it. Dany clenched her hand into a fist. She wanted to vomit. She wanted to drain herself of her father's blood. An unbidden cry escaped her lips.

Lannister faltered at the sound. He took a step towards her, but stopped when the cell door opened. Dany wiped her tears and turned to see who was entering. Her eyes went wide when it was one of the Lannister envoys, a skinny boy no older than Theon. Behind him was a brute of a man, his knuckles bloodied and carrying a sword.

"Ser Jaime, your brother sent us to rescue you," the skinny one said. His mouth slackened at the sight of her. "S-shall we bring her?"

"No." Lannister strode towards the men and accepted the sword. Where the seven hells was Ser Edmure? Shouldn't his people be stopping this? Dany couldn't let him escape. She wrapped her arms around Lannister's right one, using all her strength to drag him back into the room. "Let go."

"I can't… let you leave." For once, Dany wished she were a man. Being so slight was not helping her. "Kingslayer!"

He stopped and looked down at her. "Kingslayer," he repeated, giving her a bitter smile. "I thought we'd grown close in the last hour, yet you still call me that. My name is Jaime Lannister. Just as your name is Daenerys Targaryen."

Don't call me that, she couldn't help but think. That was her father's name. Her mad father.

"Don't give me that look, girl. I gave you what you wanted. Now let me go."

"Robb will kill you if you escape."

"Your concern touches me. Now let go before I have to hurt you."

She clutched his arm, still trying to haul him back. Jaime Lannister shook her off, hard enough to make her stumble. Dany looked around and saw that all the guards were dead. Chasing after him would only lead to death. She felt so helpless.

In the distance, Dany could hear steel and the sounds of a scrimmage. It must have gone on for hours, as dawn was only approaching when the sounds began to dwindle. She forced herself off the floor and left the cell. She passed the Great Hall during her walk around the castle and glanced inside. Tables were turned over and some bodies belonging to Riverrun were on the floor. At the sound of horses, Dany went in that direction.

Bloody and fettered, Jaime Lannister was being led to the dungeons by Ser Edmure and his men. Along with Lannister were some of the other "envoys."

"Lady Daenerys," Ser Edmure called, dismounting from his horse. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head. "Where were you?" she demanded.

His cheeks flushed, the color brighter than his beard. "I was not in the castle. I crossed the Tumblestone to, ah…"

Dany waved him off. "You should have been here. Some of your men are dead."

"My mistake. But you no harm has come to you? I heard you were in Lannister's cell when he escaped."

"He didn't hurt me." Dany glanced at the man in question. Her chest tightened. She didn't want to kill him anymore, not after the revelations from hours ago. Even as her hate for him abated, he still hurt Bran. Lannister would need to answer to that.

"My lady? Are you…" Ser Edmure trailed off.

I'm crying like a child, Dany thought. She brushed away her tears. "Are you hurt, ser?" she asked instead.

"Some scratches, but no lasting wounds. Let me to escort you, my lady. You must be exhausted."

Dany nodded and allowed him to lead her back to her bedchamber.

A/N: Yes, I took away the dragons scene. I realized it could have been more meaningful and more badass. Also, Barristan Selmy isn't here. I wanted to focus on Dany and Jaime. He's a dick in this chapter, but we all know he gets better. Anyway, thanks for reading!