Notes: The Tyene used in this chapter is based on the book version and not the show version. Well shoot, most of you most have figured this out already *lol* And thanks to those who take the time to leave their feedback! It's very much appreciated! :D

"You know what your problem is, Jon?"

"No…what?"

"You think too much."

"Huh?"

Robb peeled out of his sweat-soaked football jersey and tossed it to the floor. His eyes were lit in amusement as he studied his sullen half-brother. There was really no reason to be that way, considering they won the game, but that was Jon for you. Smiling was a chore ninety percent of the time.

"You think too fucking much," Robb repeated and playfully poked Jon's forehead. "I mean, you've got the one of the hottest babes in school coming up to you and what do you do? You stand there like a fucking moron trying to figure out if she's only messing around with you."

Jon had the grace to flush at the memory. "Why shouldn't I think that? She's never spoken to me before and all of a sudden she wants to hang out? That's…weird."

Robb paused in the process of unzipping his pants and blinked in genuine surprise. He was sure Jon was kidding, but with the way his features were contorted in consternation, there was no doubt his kid brother was damn serious.

"Seven hells," he muttered and shook his head. "You really need to lighten up, man. Feelings -especially the ones between a man and a woman - shouldn't really be some deep, thought-provoking thing at this age. This is the time to live it up. Have fun! Enjoy it while you can."

Jon pursed his lips; his fingers slowly unbuttoning his shirt as he mulled over that line of thinking. "I don't know," he finally mumbled, "I think if you really like a girl, you should-"

"Throw caution to the wind and enjoy every single moment with her," Robb interrupted with a throw of his hands in the air. "No one is asking you to fall in love with her, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't love her all the same. Does that make sense?"

When Jon remained stubbornly silent, Robb sighed and sat beside his brother on the narrow bed. He wrapped an arm around Jon's shoulder to stare intently into perplexed brown eyes.

"You're a passionate guy, Jon. I know you are because I've seen how heated you become when it comes to fights and shit, and that's great and all, but you've got to bring that same devil-may-care attitude to your love life. I'm not saying you have to become a male slut and sleep with anything that moves, but when you do manage to find a girl that shows even an inkling of interest in you - or you feel something in return - don't sit around trying to question or dissect her every move. Just let it flow naturally, and if she turns out to be the one…then lucky you. If not, move on. Got it?"

Got it, Robb.

Except he had blown it again – and it couldn't have come at the worst possible time.

Shit. Shit. Double shit!

He groaned and lowered his head between his raised knees; a cloud of smoke escaping his lips from the nearly finished cigarette. Before him the Summer Sea stretched into majestic oblivion; the fading sunlight casting picturesque hues of gold, amber, and sepia. Several children and their parents walked along the shore; their happy laughter almost mocking his melancholic mood. They were like miniature dolls from Jon's vantage point; a jutting section of rugged cliffs about a mile from the Water Gardens palace. The wind was gustier up here, but he liked it that way. It was much cooler; and though it was nowhere near as cold as Winterfell, it was much better than the searing heat of midday.

He took another long drag and flopped onto the grass; his gaze trained at the expanse of sky above him and the flock of birds probably on their way to King's Landing.

When you get there, Jon mused with a wry smile, make sure you tell Davos, Sam, and even Gendry that I'm still here…still in Dorne…trying to get better. It's a great place actually, but I do miss them.

He did, at least, contact Davos who had been out of his mind with worry. According to him, the City Watch had just about made his apartment a crime scene, and Gendry – when he finally awakened – would only tell them that two mysterious people had shown up to save his life and that was all he remembered. Naturally, he had wanted to know where Jon was, but doing his best to appease the older man, all he had said was "I'll be home soon. Just take care of things for me until I get there. I promise." Thank the gods Davos was smart enough not to ask any further questions.

Jon tucked his hands beneath his head. Another set of seagulls went squawking into the clouds as if eager to hear the rest of Jon's silent message.

Tell them I was saved by a beautiful Queen who just so happens to be a kickass fighter. Tell them I finally got a chance to be that close with her…hell, I'll say it, I kissed her. I actually fucking kissed her…and guess what? She responded. She fucking responded! I wasn't imagining things. I know I wasn't. And how was it? Perfect. How did she taste? Like heaven…or I think that's what heaven must taste like. I can't really explain it. It felt so…sweet yet hot, you know? Like how summer wine tastes after you chill it for a while and then take the first sip. Only ten times better. And phew…you should have seen the way she moved against me…like she wanted to mold her body to mine…and… and it would have been so perfect. So fucking perfect…if I hadn't opened my fucking mouth to ask the wrong thing.

(That should not have happened)

He winced at the memory of her cold words; of how they had doused him with the cruel reality that she was slipping away and nothing he could say was going to bring back that feeling of intimacy again.

That gnawing ache shot through his heart again and he squeezed his eyes shut; wishing – and not for the first time since that day – he could turn back the clock and do things all over again. This time, he would take Robb's advice. He would throw caution to the fucking wind and kiss the living daylights out of her. He'd make her scream his name and never want to let go. He didn't even care if she was lesbian or not. She had responded and that was all that mattered.

(Trust me when I say, it will not happen again)

Unfortunately, the finality of those words had done a number on him. It caused conflicting feelings of misery and anger at her dismissive attitude. Yet, a part of him was sure he had noticed dismay and maybe, just maybe, that same flash of pain he had once seen in his apartment. Missandei's words about Dany putting up a front for everyone, and only revealing her true side in her quieter moments, caused his brows to furrow in thought.

So was it all another act then? Did she really mean for him never to make another move? Or was she just testing him?

Gods, if only women were less complicated.

Not that she had given him a chance to even explain himself since then. It's been the longest two days of his life since that fateful kiss, and despite Jon's attempts to talk to her in private, Dany almost always found ways to keep herself occupied (cooped up in her quarters) or stuck in the company of others (training with Oberyn or being in private meetings with Doran and Tyrion et al). She made it near impossible for them to ever be alone, and even with her polite greetings, Jon's feelings of frustration grew.

In the midst of this, the plans for the party were in full effect. Tomorrow was the big night, and the palace was already decked out with flamboyant decorations which made it seem as if they were about to celebrate New Year's Eve. Jon had never seen so many balloons and streamers in his life. Even Catelyn – who did tend to throw one or two parties back in Winterfell – had nothing on Ellaria Sand and her creative daughters. Speaking of which, one of the many daughters – Jon would soon come to know that most of them were bastard children like himself and were considered 'Sand Snakes' – had taken an interest in him.

Tyene Sand, who had only arrived the day before for the festivities – was the third of the eight girls and almost seven years older than Jon. She was a junior professor, teaching Pharmacology, in the same college Bran was attending in Oldtown. With her long blond hair and piercing cerulean eyes, her features reeked of an innocence that was rather charming. According to her baby sister, Dorea, many men were apparently lining up to claim her hand in marriage, though it appeared to Jon that Tyene had no interest in tying the knot anytime soon. It seemed to be a trait with the Martell women. They were much too independent and strong-willed.

They were introduced at dinner last night, and she took it upon herself to show Jon around the city since no one else had done so. Jon would have politely refused, but she insisted; her positive attitude almost contagious. She even sat next to Jon at the large dinner table, asking questions and wanting to know more about his family, especially Bran, while expanding on her studies and what she hoped for the future. She was apparently following in Oberyn's footsteps. Who would have thought that old pervert was actually a wizard when it came to drug interactions and their usefulness? However, all of this would have been riveting conversation if Jon wasn't too busy trying not to scowl at how much attention Dany was paying to Jorah and Prince Oberyn at her end of the table. They could have been miles apart for all their interaction throughout the dinner. There had been that damned polite "Good evening, Jon" and that was pretty much it.

It was with that mindset that he had agreed to the sightseeing tour with Tyene, and despite telling himself he wouldn't enjoy it, it actually turned out to be quite fun. He learned that the Water Gardens was just a summer residence for the royal family, and they actually lived in Sunspear for most of the year. She showed him the local sites including a small museum, an art gallery, and one of her favorite record shops with some classic favorites rarely seen in King's Landing or Winterfell. They had lunch at her favorite restaurant, though the food was not exactly to Jon's taste. She appeared to be watching her weight and insisted on eating a lot of veggies while Jon poked at his plate wondering why it looked like he was about to consume something akin to octopi tentacles.

She was pleasant company all around, but he found himself - on more than one occasion - wishing she was someone else. Jon figured that was another fantasy that would never come true; for the image of he and Dany spending an entire day together…just doing normal couple things was too far-fetched. That feeling of longing was only intensified at their next stop.

They made a quick visit to the local zoo, where there was a popular exhibit of the largest komodo dragons Jon had ever seen. With the appearance of being giant lizards, they weren't exactly the prettiest of reptiles. Still, there was something rather fascinating about them. Capable of growing as long as ten feet, they were ferocious beasts likely to even eat humans.

"Almost makes you wish we had real dragons, huh?" Tyene had said with a smile as she noticed Jon studying the creatures. "Some say they might even be descendants of the real thing. Why else would they be called dragons?"

Why indeed, he wondered as he rest his arms on the protective barrier to watch the cumbersome creatures lumber around their habitat. I'm sure she would have gotten a kick out of seeing them.

After all, the Targaryens did believe they were forged from the blood of those fantastical creatures.

A wistful smile came to his lips as he watched a green and bronze-tipped dragon try to burrow itself back amongst the rocks as if bored of being the object of curiosity. Another was cream with gold-tipped scales, and it seemed content to bask beneath the sun; hardly moving despite the activity around him. The biggest of them all, a black one with red tips on its scales, turned its head to study Jon and much to his surprise, it began to walk toward him; not stopping until its nose bumped against the wired barrier. Jon could almost reach in to touch it, but a sign clearly stated "DO NOT REACH FOR ANIMALS" and he wasn't about to get his hand eaten.

"Hey, big guy," he whispered so as not to get Tyene's attention. "You're a rare one, aren't you? And you know who would have liked meeting you? No? Well her name's Daenerys Targaryen…or Dany for short. She's got a thing for dragons. Her family sigil and all that. I think she might like you."

The creature merely blinked its reptilian eyes slowly as if understanding Jon's rambling. It flicked out its long tongue before turning away to seek its brothers; perhaps to regale them about the strange human he had just met.

"Maybe someday I'll take her to the zoo and introduce them to her…in my dreams," Jon whispered to the darkening skies as dusk drew fast. The temperature had also dropped a little more, and it was now to his liking. He tossed away the finished cigarette and was about to reach into his pocket to pull out another, when light footsteps had him sitting up quickly.

"Figured I'd find you here," Tyrion stated dryly as he marched up to Jon before coming to a stop beside him. "I usually come here to brood, but seems like you've beat me to the punch, Snow."

"I wasn't brooding," Jon muttered, but Tyrion interrupted with a wave of his hand in dismissal.

"Considering you haven't smiled much the past couple of days, and you still have a scowl on your face, I think it's safe to say that you've definitely been doing your share of it for the both of us." He sighed and stared out to the sea. His lips downturned as if seeing something he disliked.

"What are you morose about?" Jon asked with a raised brow. "Wasn't the raid successful?"

He didn't try to get into Dany's affairs especially since he had all but told her wanting to be leader of the Syndicate was going to be impossible, but there was no way he wasn't invested in this anyway. Grey Worm wasn't back yet, so it was clear they were still stuck in King's Landing.

"It's going according to plan," Tyrion replied with a slight nod. "Nothing to worry about. We will get rid of all of them. You can be rest assured."

"Yeah," Jon replied with sarcasm dripping in every word. "Then we all live happily ever after, right?"

"If you wish it," Tyrion replied; ignoring the tone. "That's all she ever wanted for you. For you not to be involved with this."

"Too late for that now," Jon retorted before sighing and shaking his head. "She just…I don't understand her sometimes," he finally blurted out in frustration. "One minute she acts like a complete and total bitch, the next she's taking care of me like I'm some orphan kid she has to protect. Which is the real Daenerys Targaryen?"

"All of it…none of it…who knows?" came the cryptic response. "She's an enigma…a wonderful, powerful enigma I've pledged my allegiance to. Best decision I ever made, I believe."

Jon studied Tyrion's profile in genuine bemusement for a long minute before asking hoarsely. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you pledge your allegiance to her? You're a fucking Lannister. You're supposed to be her enemy."

"Hmm."

"Your father, your brother, and your sister practically control the very government she's hoping to take down, yet you're on her side," Jon stated with a raised brow. "It doesn't make any sense."

"Since when does the concept of family make any sense?" Tyrion asked with a sardonic smile. He finally turned to Jon; his green eyes penetrating in their stare. "Tell me, Jon Snow…you are considered a bastard, yes?"

Jon's jaw clenched at the term he had long come to regard as an un-wasahable stain to his existence. Though he was glad most of the people in King's Landing hadn't made it a big deal, back in Winterfell, it was all anyone could focus on especially if they met him for the first time.

Here comes the bastard son of the honorable Lord Ned Stark – whose mother was probably some cheap whore. Hurrah.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Jon asked more harshly than he intended, but it didn't deter Tyrion.

"It's a name you detest, isn't it?" the dwarf acknowledged with a nod. "It's a blemish on your existence and it clings to you whether you like it or not. You are hardly considered worthy of your father's name, and many consider you a burden especially dear Catelyn Stark. She was never much of a mother to you, was she? How sad."

"Enough of my wonderful childhood," Jon replied through clenched teeth. "I asked what that's got to do with you working for Dany."

"Like you, Jon Snow, I too was considered a stain on my father's quest for the perfect family." He pointed to himself and then waved a hand from head to foot. "Look at me. A dwarf with features that would hardly make the pages of the fashion magazines. I was this grotesque and deformed creature who was the cause of my mother's death. Father never forgave me for it. I should have died, not her, and I have no doubt he has said that curse a million times over in his dreams…oh wait, he's actually said that to my face several times. So there you go."

Jon winced and lowered his head. He could relate. How many times had he overhead Catelyn speaking to her closest friends about his demise; wishing he had died in the arms of whatever whore Ned had slept with that night.

"Knowing that," Tyrion continued. "I did all I could to make something of myself; to show and prove to dear old Dad that I could be better than what he assumed I was. I was never going to be as tall, beautiful, and brave as my brother Jaime; who – believe it or not – was the only one who dared to show me any affection." At this Tyrion seemed to get choked up, and his words stuttered.

"…you miss him, huh?" Jon asked quietly.

Tyrion said nothing to this; though his wistful expression said it all. "No matter. I made up for my deficiencies in other ways. I became a ferocious reader; soaking and absorbing any and all information I could find. If I couldn't become a member of the prestigious Kingsguards, then I could at least 'fight' in board rooms and council meetings to help him rule a successful government. Alas, even that wasn't enough for dear old Dad."

"What did he do?"

"What else?" Tyrion said with a bitter laugh. "Assigned me to meager operations around Westeros; giving me the unenviable job of closing down struggling small businesses, and giving desperate families the terrible news that their lives now belonged to the Lannisters. I ended up being one of the most hated men around. Many would see my car pull up the driveway and they'd have their shotguns ready to take me out."

"Ouch."

"Ouch indeed."

"So…how did you end up with Dany?"

"Fate," came the quiet reply. "One day, I simply had enough and bailed. You see, not only does my father hate my guts; my sister is no saint either. Gods knows how many times she's tried to get me killed, and eventually she tried hiring the Faceless Men to complete the job. Thanks to Varys, I was able to escape and I ended up in Meereen…and the rest as they say is history."

Jon had a feeling Tyrion was skipping over a lot of details, but with the moon now peeking over the horizon, he felt it better to get the general gist of their alliance.

"You doubt my allegiance to her," Tyrion said with a small smile. "You still wonder if a part of me wishes to gain my father's trust by betraying Daenerys. I won't blame you for assuming as such. However, when you've come to know the Queen like I have through our many journeys…that thought is never going to come to fruition. She might be young and naïve in some ways, but she's got a strength that I admire greatly. One has to remember she's never really had a normal childhood. She had no siblings who could truly love her, like you did, not even parents who could shower her with the affection she deserved. She came from nothing, Jon Snow, and look at her now; just a few more steps to reclaiming what was wrongly taken from her family. I will help her get there, even if it costs me my life."

He turned to Jon again, and this time, his expression was one of determination and almost defiance. "With Dany at the helm, I truly believe Westeros can become the great nation it once was. Right now, its people cry out for a real government that cares for them, not the ones filled with greedy politicians who only care about their pockets instead of their constituents. She has gathered a strong team around her, and slowly but surely we will weed out the rotten fruit and cleanse the Red Keep. With or without your help."

At that, Jon's eyes widened. It almost felt as if Tyrion was accusing him of something, and he wasn't sure of what –

"She was quite hurt by your lack of faith in her abilities to rule," Tyrion continued as if reading his thoughts. "She might not have mentioned your name, but when she asked me the other day, if I thought all she was doing was simply a waste of time…it was clear whatever you said must have gotten to her. She rarely tries to show her self-doubt, but you've planted those seeds again, Jon Snow. It's something we cannot afford to have at this time."

"I was just being honest," Jon defended himself; though he could feel his heart clench at the image of Dany thinking she was a failure because of his blunt manner of speaking.

Goddamnit.

"She…" He swallowed and struggled to find the right words. "I just didn't want her to get corrupted like the others. I just felt…I-"

"Your heart might have been in the right place, but your words did not sound that way," Tyrion replied quietly. "So I guess you have to make it up to her soon. Speak to her…really speak to her, Jon. Get to know more about this Queen you can't seem to understand as well as you'd like. You'd be surprised by what you find."

He made a show of looking at his watch.

"And now if you'll excuse me, I must return indoors." He took a deep breath and stretched his arms above his head. "I'm glad we had this talk. I feel so much better now. Thank you, Jon."

And with a pat on Jon's knees, Tyrion spun on his heels and trotted back to the palace; leaving Jon staring out to the sea with a million and one thoughts racing through his mind.

"I can't believe Ellaria talked you into wearing that gown, my Queen. It's simply scandalous."

Dany chuckled and arched her neck; her eyes closing as the rhythmic strokes of Missandei brushing her hair almost lulled her to sleep. Her body was still slightly sore from the intense workout with Oberyn earlier in the evening, but it was a necessary evil.

Sometimes, one had to channel their anger and frustration somewhere.

"Have you ever tried saying 'no' to that woman?" Dany asked. "It's impossible. She somehow manages to twist her words around and before you know it, you just want her to shut up and you accept whatever bullshit she feeds you."

She lifted her lashes to eye the flimsy shimmering Haute Couture gown hanging against the closet doors. Though it was long-sleeved and high-necked, its design left little to the imagination. Strategically crafted lace covered the chest and hip areas, and that was it. Everything else was a thin layer of iridescent see-through chiffon, which gave the illusion that she was nude or at least dipped in stars. Her back was also going to be exposed, and it would give everyone a good view of the tattoo on her lower back; as if to remind them of exactly who she was. It was sexy as hell, if she was going to be honest, and it had been a while since she'd worn anything that revealing. She looked forward to seeing their faces when she made her grand appearance –

(especially his)

…but with everyone planning to wear masquerade masks, maybe the effect wouldn't be that dramatic.

Lucky her.

"I'm sorry Grey Worm won't be there," Dany said aloud with an apologetic look to her friend. "I'm sure you two would have made a lovely couple."

Missandei gave a small smile and shrugged. "I should be used to it. It's what I signed up for when I agreed to be his partner. We both know the risks, and I can only pray he returns to me safe and sound."

"They were able to take two of the bases so far," Dany tried to reassure her as she rose to her feet and tied the sash of her dressing robe. "Three more to go and the mission is over."

"And I'm sure it's going to be a success," Missandei stated with a pump of her fist.

She followed Dany out to the veranda, and from their vantage point, they could see the palace staff putting the finishing touches to the gardens below.

"Wow…Ellaria really outdid herself, didn't she?" Missandei whispered in awe as she wrapped her arms around Dany's waist from behind and rest her chin on her shoulder. After the long hot bath and being soaked in some of Dorne's finest fragrances, her hair was a thick fluffy silver mass that smelled great as Missandei inhaled greedily. "The palace looks so beautiful all around."

When she got no response, she cocked her head to look at her friend; only to notice that something had caught Dany's attention. Following her line of sight, Missandei could make out two people talking amongst the shadows of the many trees that lined the gardens. However, as they stepped into the light, and her bubbly laughter reached them, Dany's visible stiffening was enough to tell Missandei the story.

It was Tyene – one of Ellaria's daughters; the one who almost looked like Dany except for the different shade of her eyes – and Jon Snow. Tyene appeared to be tugging on Jon's hand and leading him into the palace, and it was at that moment he choose to look up – perhaps sensing they were being watched.

Missandei, whose arms were still around Dany's waist, almost found herself releasing Dany; as if afraid to incur Jon's wrath at touching something that belonged to him. However, she chided herself for thinking in such a way. It wasn't as if he and Dany had that sort of a relationship, though with the way he was now frowning a little, and Dany's matching expression –

"I'm going to bed," Dany suddenly announced as she spun on her heels to enter the bedroom. Missandei was smart enough to know that when her friend was in this 'mood', it was best not to ask questions.

She could only watch as Dany all but ripped off the robe and climbed into bed like a petulant child. She didn't even reach for her favorite sweatshirt. Come to think of it, she hadn't worn that thing in the last two days. Was it because the owner was actually in the palace and it was no longer needed? Or was there something else going on? Missandei assumed she and Jon would have had several conversations by now, but from all she had noticed, Dany appeared to be doing her best to avoid him, and when Missandei had tried engaging in small talk about something silly Jon had done or said during wound dressing changes, Dany would snip the topic in the bud; not wanting to hear anything about the northerner and his antics.

When she cares too much, she pushes away, Missandei deduced as she let herself out of the room. Once bitten, twice shy.

A sad thing really; for she had come to really like the brooding young man from the North, and would have wished for nothing more than her best friend to finally find someone who would treat her with the love and respect she truly deserved.

The entire day was a series of intimate tea parties with visiting (curious) nobles, culminating in the ultimate celebration that everyone was sure would be the talk of Dorne for years to come.

Given that all of this had been planned in a week or less, the Water Gardens had been transformed from a tranquil place of relaxation, to a dazzling extravaganza of colors, lights, and sounds. The usual silent grand hall and ballroom was now adorned with floating golden silk lanterns from Yi Ti amidst a gazillion rainbow-hued balloons that kissed the elegant ceiling or were kicked and tossed around by excited guests. Exotic flowers lined the hallways, accentuated by long gilded tables laden with enough food and drink to feed a small country.

There were whole roasted pigs, some still on spit fires, coated with thick gravy and potatoes. For fans of seafood, large platters of fresh salmon, tilapia, or catfish (considering Dorne was that close to the sea and it had a thriving fishing industry) along with garnished crabs, oysters, lobsters as big as cats, dipped in olive oil and sprinkled with fine herbs were there for the taking. The pastries were to die for. Freshly baked pies, cheesecakes, chocolate eclairs and coated strawberries in whipped cream were a sinful decadent alternative to the large baskets of juicy grapes, oranges, apples, peaches, figs and dates; many of which were shipped from across the Narrow Sea.

Live music blasted from every hall; bands from as far as Lys all performing for the myriad of guests dressed in their finest. Feathers and lace, jewels and silks all amongst colorful masks-ranging from the simple to the most elaborate - mingled amongst each other; everyone trying to out laugh the other over the cacophony of merriment. Jesters from Sunspear juggled and acted the fool for entertainment, while scantily-clad women from Pentos dangled from the ceiling as they spun and danced to their brand of music. Alcoholic beverages of every kind flowed freely; as waiters – dressed like harlequins – weaved in and out of the crowd with trays filled with crystal and gold glasses above their heads.

The driveway was a constant stream of expensive cars pulling up and doors opening to reveal the country's finest nobility. Flashbulbs from cameras would go off with greedy intensity; many of the local media on hand to capture this moment for posterity. Journalists stuck their microphones or recorders in the faces of those who yearned for the attention. Though the most pressing question in everyone's mind was this –

Was THE Daenerys Targaryen really here?

There was no doubt many of the guests had come simply for that reason. The stories of the 'rebel' across the sea who had managed to 'conquer' the major cities of Slavers Bay were almost legendary and impossible to comprehend. Many had thought all the Targaryens were defeated after the deadliest coup d'état in the country's history, but if the rumors were to be believed…could this be another turning point for Westeros? Many could only dare to hope in secret.

"It's going to be fine, my dear," Ellaria was saying as she helped adjust Dany's mask on her face. "You look absolutely gorgeous. I knew that dress was going to be perfect for you."

She stepped back to eye the finished product and sighed in pleasure.

"Now you look like the queen you really are."

Dany looked at her reflection in slight awe. She had no idea who was looking back at her, for this Dany had the appearance of someone not of this earth. The gown fit like a glove yet it was actually comfortable. As she walked, she could feel the breeze against her skin, and knowing that only a pair of nude-shaded panties stood between her and this flimsy excuse for a dress, made her feel incredibly sexy, powerful, and confident. The exquisite white and gold mask hid most of her face except for her lips. The intricate design was of Dornish origin, and according to Ellaria, was to bring good luck and peace to whoever wore it. Large white and gold peacock features jutted from either side of the mask, and her hair was let down tonight, though two braids held it away from her face so the mask could fit.

Dany turned to Missandei as if asking for her silent approval, and Missandei – who looked just as beautiful in a silk aqua gown with gold trimmings – nodded and motioned for Dany to pose for a picture…and a few selfies which had the women giggling in delight at how ridiculous they were being.

"Pity you don't have an Illustrogram page," Missandei pouted as she took one more picture of her friend. "This would have gotten you a shit ton of followers, my Queen."

Dany shrugged and reached for the light shawl, which she draped over her shoulders as Ellaria began to lead the way to the party. The Dornish Queen was also dressed to impress, for the black bodysuit – made of leather and lace – accentuated every curve of a killer body. An orange and red cape – highlighting the colors of her House – flowed over her shoulders and dragged along the floor as she walked. Black thigh-high boots with six-inch heels, and a matching black and gold mask, completed the dominatrix look. Needless to say, she turned a lot of heads as they came to the top of the winding staircase leading to the grand ballroom. However, she was glad for the audible gasps heard when she stepped aside to let Dany take the spotlight. Some men's jaws literally dropped.

Mission accomplished.

Dany, for her part, suddenly felt her feet frozen in place as all eyes now gravitated toward her. She could barely feel Missandei's gentle squeeze of her hand in reassurance, or Ellaria's whispered words of "this is your time to shine, Your Grace,".

She was not ready for this.

She could feel them all judging her; this foreign whore who had come to take over their country.

I don't care, she vehemently thought as she struggled to take a deep breath and control the pounding of her heart. I don't care what they think of me. I am the dragon queen, and I have come to –

Her thoughts were promptly distracted when she saw him.

This time her heart skipped a beat for a whole different reason.

It was strange how she was able to recognize him despite the crush of humanity and how he was dressed in similar fashion like most of the men in the room. He was in only a simple black tuxedo, which fit him quite well and made him look different…more assure…confident and dare she say regal. In a suit? It was almost laughable, yet with one hand in his pocket and his casual lean against the wall, he did give off those vibes, whether he meant to or not.

He is the son of nobility after all, was her errant thought. Why would it be strange to think he would act in that way whether he realizes it or not?

His mask was a simple black one, which still did nothing to hide the usual doe-like brown eyes still holding hers prisoner.

She wondered what he was thinking, while a part of her desperately prayed for him to look away so she could catch her goddamn breath. Unfortunately, the spell was broken when someone moved closer to him, and despite the green and gold mask, it wasn't hard to mistake Tyene whispering something into his ear to force his attention away.

That was enough to bring Dany to her senses.

She shook her head a little and closed her eyes to gather herself, before lifting her lashes again to pin a smile that felt too plastic.

That's right. It was my decision to keep him at bay. Besides…he's found someone else to keep him entertained and –

"My darling Queen Daenerys," came the exuberant greeting as Oberyn walked up the steps to grab her hand. He placed a hard kiss on the back of it and bowed; looking dashing in an exquisite gold and purple robe adorned with glittering jewels. His matching mask sat upon his head like a hat. "You look absolutely ravishing, my dear. I would consider it an honor if I escorted you to meet the other guests. They've been dying to meet you."

Hardly waiting for her response, he led Dany down the steps where the guests parted ways; many with looks of awe on their faces. Some even bowed or curtsied; something Dany found strange yet a bit exhilarating. In Meereen, the closest they had come to bowing was when the Great Masters had signed over the declaration of independence to their newly elected democratic leaders. One of her greatest achievements yet, but that was another story for another time.

"..and this is Lord Ryon Allyrion and Lady Delonne from House Allyrion," Oberyn was saying.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Your Grace," the stocky man in a pink mask –which he took off quickly in respect to reveal earnest black eyes. "We, of House Allyrion, pledge our allegiance to your cause."

"Thank you, Lord Ryon," Dany replied politely.

Small talk would be unnecessary as the next nobleman was already being shepherded up to her.

"Lord Anders Yronwood," Oberyn introduced with a strained smile. It was clear there was no love lost between the two men, and Dany could see why. Anders was as tall and broad as Oberyn; his features handsome yet stern. He bowed to Dany and kissed the back of her hand before looking deep into her eyes as if hoping to unsettle her.

"House Yronwood pledges its allegiance to you, Your Grace. We are one of the noblest of houses in Dorne, and we will fight for you should you need us."

"I thank you, Lord Anders," Dany replied, wishing he would let go already. He finally did when he noticed Prince Doran – looking resplendent in purple velvet robes with a matching mask pushed to the top of his head – approach. Tyrion, also dressed in a rich maroon velvet jerkin and leather pants, bowed to Dany with a grin.

"Looks like a lovely party, Your Grace," he enthused as more guests lined up to salute their potential future queen. "Are you enjoying yourself so far?"

"Hardly," Dany whispered beneath her breath as Missandei slipped a handkerchief for her to wipe her hands. "I'm losing count of all the people I've met already, and my feet hurt in these fucking heels."

"Language, my Queen," Tyrion chuckled. She noticed his voice was slightly slurred; a clear sign her Hand had more than enjoyed himself already. "You don't want them to think you're uncouth, do you?"

"Fuck what they think," Dany replied with a hint of a smile.

She cast a surreptitious glance over the head of some other Lord being introduced to her; violet eyes desperately searching for him again. Her disappointment at his absence was a gut wrenching sensation that she detested feeling.

Urgh. Why do I even bother?

"Lord Edric Dayne of House Dayne," came the introduction which had Dany staring into similar shaded eyes gawking back at her with interest. Edric was younger than she was, fifteen to be exact, with quite striking features. He bowed and kissed her hand in greeting, before asking innocently, "Are we related, Your Grace?"

Dany could feel her cheeks flush with heat at that; and she felt the burning sting of unshed tears forming. She wasn't sure if it was the simplicity of the question, or the dawning realization that despite being surrounded by so many people, who all wanted a piece of her, she was still so very much alone.

She swallowed the lump threatening to form in her throat and replied in as light a voice as she could manage. "I guess we must be. It would be nice to have you as a little brother."

Edric blushed at this and bowed again. "Then may I have the first dance with you, Your Grace? It would be an honor."

This seemed to delight the guests as many clapped and cheered them on.

Edric stepped back and held out a hand – like the perfect gentleman. Smiling in response, Dany accepted the offer, aching feet forgotten as the guests parted to make room in the middle of the dance floor.

"You are most beautiful, Your Grace," Edric stated as he placed an arm around her waist and began to lead the way. He was good at dancing too. "You shimmer like the stars falling from the heavens."

Dany's smile was more genuine at the compliments. "You should be a poet, my Lord. Your words are bound to have many women falling at your feet."

Edric giggled as they spun around the dance floor. "Hardly. I prefer the company of books and my horse, Silver."

"You ride?"

"Yes…I plan to participate in the next grand equestrian games. Hopefully, I can take the trophy. My uncle Arthur has the record for most titles won."

"Arthur?"

"Arthur Dayne," Edric replied with a big smile. "He was quite famous and unfortunately lost his life during -"

"If I may, Your Grace," Jorah's voice suddenly cut in as he bowed in greeting. "Forgive me for being so forward, but may I have the next dance please?"

By now, the other guests were on the dance floor as well, so it wasn't that awkward of a request, still with a light pout, Edric gave way to Jorah with a promise to Dany that he would leave his personal information if she ever needed to call or email him.

"He seems like a good lad," Jorah was saying as led the way. "He's got a bright future."

"He was saying something about his Uncle Arthur," Dany said with a light frown. "You didn't know him, did you?"

"Arthur Dayne was a brave man…gave his life for the country."

"Oh…he was in the military then."

Jorah seemed to reconsider his answer before simply nodding. "Indeed, Your Grace. But may I say how beautiful you look tonight," he added as if hoping to change the subject.

Dany gave a wan smile and accepted his diversion. "Thank you, Jorah, and who knew you were so good on your feet?"

He laughed at that, and not for the first time, Dany wondered why a good-looking man like him wouldn't set his sights on many of the other women currently ogling him from across the room.

Almost an hour later, Dany had danced with three other lords – whose names she could barely remember – and she was beginning to nurse a headache. The mask hurt her eyes and bridge of her nose, and she desperately wished she could go outside to get some fresh air.

And I've still not seen him, she thought morosely as Ellaria – probably half-drunk and singing off key –danced toward her with Tyrion in tow. What did they want now?

"It's time to give a speech, Your Grace," Ellaria announced in a sing-song voice.

"A speech?" Dany was mortified. "Why?"

"It's a great way to thank everyone for showing up," Tyrion replied with a nod. "This was a great welcome party to Westeros, and it's clear we've got most of Dorne in our corner. So what better way to show our gratitude but to give some rambling speech about being in their debt etcetera, etcetera."

"I don't really have any speech prepared," Dany stuttered, but Ellaria was already tugging her toward the makeshift stage where a popular band was still playing.

"Who cares? This should come from the heart, shouldn't it?"

She grabbed the microphone from the lead singer without apologies and coughed into it. "Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen. If I may have your attention please."

Everyone stopped and turned toward her. Dany, who was now wishing she could melt into the equipment, struggled to maintain her smile. Her jaw was already beginning to ache, and just as she lifted her mask to get some air, she finally caught sight of him weaving his way through the crowd…Tyene was nowhere in sight.

Oh.

"…present to you, our future Queen of Westeros…Queen Daenerys Targaryen!"

The applause was thunderous (hoots and whistles included), yet Dany could hear nothing. Jon was nursing a flute of champagne and giving polite applause as well, and she wasn't sure but was he giving her a small smile and nod of encouragement? That was weird. Why would he? Wasn't he the one who said she wouldn't be good at ruling? What right did she have to stand before all these people to proclaim that she'd be the change they desperately needed?

Still, her feet moved – or rather Tyrion's gentle shove forward – had her almost colliding with the microphone. She wrapped her trembling hands around the stand and closed her eyes.

"You can do it," Tyrion urged in a harsh whisper. "This is your chance to shine, Dany. Make it count."

Right.

She lifted her lashes and raised her hands to silence the guests, which they did almost immediately.

"Thank you all," she began; her voice surprisingly steady despite the fluttering in her stomach. "Thank you so very much for your warm welcome-"

"Go back to Essos, you bitch!" came the sudden yell from someone at the back of the room. As expected, heads began turning; murmurings rising as they tried to make out who was responsible for the heckling.

Dany faltered, but Tyrion nodded firmly; his eyes urging her to continue.

"It…It's been an honor to be in your presence this evening," she forced herself to speak; calling up every reserve of restraint she could muster. It was embarrassing to be called out like that, but she told herself she didn't care. She would not let them get to her. She's dealt with worse shit in Meereen.

I am the dragon queen. Don't ever forget that.

"I sincerely hope that we can all work together-"

"We don't want you, you foreign slut!" This time the voice seemed to come from the opposite end of the room.

The murmurs grew louder and now the faces before her seemed to change expressions from respect to doubt, but mostly embarrassment for her. She could see several guards already slipping into the room in their quest to find the troublemakers, and as Dany struggled to find a kind face amongst the crowd, they fell on Jon again; whose expression was enough to make her want to leap through the throng to grab him in a fierce hug.

He looked absolutely livid.

"Don't let them deter you," Prince Doran was saying from the side of the stage, with a rare smile of encouragement. "Finish up your speech, my Queen."

Dany took a deep breath and nodded before making the decision to rush through whatever she had to say next. The sooner she got off this damn stage, the better.

"Westeros needs change," she stated firmly. "And together, we can work to bring that change. Thanks so very much again for your…aaaah!"

It had come so fast and so sudden, no one on stage moved for almost a full minute in complete shock.

Dany felt the chill before looking down at herself to see the ugly blossoming red stain seeping through her gown. Her first alarming thought was that she had been stabbed or shot at, but when the sweet aroma of the wine filtered into her numbed senses, she realized someone had doused her with it. That someone was a woman dressed in black, waving a banner which said 'FOREIGN WHORE' while being dragged to the exits by two burly security guards, while screaming "Get out of Westeros! You murderer!"

"Good grief," Ellaria gasped as she dashed over to dab the stain with a handkerchief; a fruitless gesture. The dress was effectively ruined. "Those crazy protesters. How did they get in here? I'm so sorry, Your Grace. This shouldn't have happened."

"Take her upstairs," someone else was saying as many arms, hands, and everything in-between seemed to drag her away from the stage amidst the rumbling from the guests who were marveling at the sudden change in events.

Dany would allow herself to be led upstairs, and it was only when she was in the safety of her private quarters, did she finally force her mind to function again. This time, she held her ground.

"I'm fine," she stated calmly.

Missandei, Jorah, Tyrion, Ellaria, and Oberyn stared at her in concern.

"Your Grace," Jorah began, but Dany pushed him away and took a step back.

"I'm fine," she repeated as she met each worried look with a small smile. "I need some time alone please, but I'm okay. I'm used to this, remember?"

Not waiting to see their reaction, she spun on her heels and left the room again, this time she took a private path which led directly to the shores of the Summer Sea. It seemed to understand her plight for she was serenaded with its gentle waves as she approached.

She took off her shoes and placed them on a pile of rocks, then tossed away the mask which had been stuck on her head all this time. She stole a quick glance at the palace, the bright lights and music still drifting down to her location. Along the shore, wooden torches had been lit; their flames crackling in silent admonishment as she sank her toes into the sand and began to walk in the opposite direction. Every now and then, she'd rub at the stain on her dress, wondering why her vision was so damn blurry, and why this stubborn stain wouldn't go away.

It was a stupid dress anyway. And it had been a stupid party. And it had been a stupid idea to introduce herself to the public like this, and it was going to make headlines all over Westeros, and her humiliation was going to be complete for everyone would see her as the sham of a Queen she really was.

Maybe Jon was right after all.

Maybe she really should just pack it up and go back to Meereen.

"Fuck my life," she whispered with a sniffle as the tears rolled down her cheeks and down her nose. She scrubbed at the blasted stain angrily. It still wouldn't go away. "Fuck!"

"Geez, you sure do walk pretty fast for someone who just left the party," came the dry comment which had her spinning around so fast, she nearly fell in her haste.

Jo…Jon?

He was strolling casually toward her; hands in the pockets of his pants, which were rolled up to his shin as he too was barefoot. He had long discarded his mask, and the once constricting tuxedo tie was askew around his neck allowing the top two buttons of his white dress-shirt to reveal his chest.

His hair had been held in a bun to probably keep the mask in place, and she had to admit it made him look older, but no less handsome – still this was no time to stand around admiring him. She was in no mood for him…or anyone else for that matter.

"Go back," she replied wearily and turned away to continue walking; though her steps were slower. "I want to be left alone."

"Ditto," he replied as he followed but at a respectable distance. "I want to be left alone as well."

"Then why the fuck are you following me? Gods, you are infuriating."

"Look who's talking."

"Did you come to gloat? Is that it?"

"No."

"Oh give me a break," she sneered. "You must have been licking your chops in there saying how great it is that I was humiliated like that. I was getting a taste of the sort of things I'll deal with as Queen, right? I don't deserve to be in charge of the Syndicate, right?"

"Dany-"

"Well fuck you and stay the hell away from me!"

"Dany -"

"I am not in the mood, Jon Snow!"

"Well, neither am I."

"I'm serious, goddamnit! Leave me alone!" She whirled on him then, only her attempt to be furious was ruined with the breaking of her voice and the harsh sob to escape her lips. She didn't want him to see her like this. This was not 'queenly' at all. This was only going to prove his theories right. She couldn't show her weakness…this vulnerability to him. She had to be strong. She had to be –

(I'm sorryI'msorryI'msososorry)

"Please," she begged in a whisper, as she slapped trembling hands over her mouth and pleaded desperately with amethyst eyes wet with tears. "Just go away. Please…I…I can't…"

He would not give her a chance to complete her words, for the next thing she knew, her face was buried against the warmth of his chest; his strong arms enveloping her in a hug so earnest, Dany felt every resolve and wall she had built around herself slowly crumble to pieces.

Perhaps it was finally time to give up the fight.