Hello. Despite the scorching temperatures outside and the overwhelming need to find a cool place, preferably near water, where I can relax, I have still managed to finish the next chapter on schedule. It's a tad bit longer than the last two and so far I am happy enough with it to post it today.

There has been a lot of concern about Senna's lack of magical abilities up to this point and though I've mentioned it before, I will do so again. In this case about why she has not mind-raped that servant like any good dark lord (or lady in this case) in training.

I had two reasons why I avoided forceful mind reading at this point. One is that it is highly dubious that Harry was really able to use this skill, so it would have been strange to give Senna skills that he never had. Of course, I could have explained that Death has given him the knowledge or he has learned it in his second life as a child of Hecate, but seriously, it would have looked like a cheap plot device that way.

The other reason and the one why I avoided legilimancy at this point is that Senna had not been ready to go that far yet. She tortured the assassin in a fit of unrestrained rage, but she wasn't in the right state of mind to consider ripping memories out of that servant's mind. Should she use mind techniques, it will be much deliberate and planned.

After the events of this chapter, her magic will play a much larger part. Now she will let go of the notion that she has to hide her skills from the public and use her powers to reach her goals. Whether she will follow a darker path or not... well you will have to wait and see for yourself. But she will no longer be passive but begin to shape the world around her with all the tools at her disposal.

And yes, this will also include the problems of the realm and not just her personal shadow war against some dark entity and its brainwashed legions of goons. The last few chapters and even this one are about Senna and why she stops hiding her powers like she had been taught in her first two lives. So once she is back in Westeros (which will come next chapter btw) she will have to deal with all the problems and intrigues at court and the dangerous games that the lords in the Seven Kingdoms play.

Alright, this was almost too much here, but these things had to be said. But now, let's start with the chapter...

Last Edited: 10.07.2016


It had been late at night and he had long retired to sleep when a servant woke him. A guest. At this late hour. He would be lying if he claimed to be happy, but when the servant insisted that the lady waiting for him had come in an urgent matter, the magister had relented and dragged himself towards the entrance hall.

It was in moments like these, that he felt his age the most. As a young man, he had been quick and always ready for whatever business or mischief would await him. But Magister Cossomo Mercor was no longer a young man, but an honored elder… He did not feel honored. Not by his age at least. His bones were stubborn and his muscles were gone.

He cursed lightly under his breath, as he finally reached the entrance to his mansion. He surely wasn't the most pleasing sight, bowed and disheveled as he was, but his guest would have to live with it. He was in no mood to be accommodating.

"Magister Cossomo Mercor, first of the Conclave of Myr," the servant announced loudly, as soon as Cossomo had entered the room. The old man sent his servant a sour look since his booming voice had likely woken up every damn soul in the whole mansion.

"It is good to see you again, magister. You are in good health, I hope," his guest said calmly.

He looked curiously at the woman. Her face was still obscured, as was the rest of her, making it hard to tell who she really is. He could only hope that his guards had not gotten lax and let in an armed killer at this late hour. But the voice… he was sure he recognized it. But his mind would not provide the answer he was searching for. Only when she pulled down her hood and long silver blond hair was revealed, Cossomo realized who she was.

"Lady Senna… ah, forgive this old man. It is Queen Senna now. I would have attended your wedding, had there not been important votes that I had to be present for." He masked his surprise quickly, not that it would have been hard. Seeing her back in Myr was rather satisfying.

She smiled kindly at him, as she approached him and took his hands in hers. She squeezed them lightly, as she told him, "Here in Myr I will always be just Lady Senna, magister. Myr does not have a queen. Myr does not need a queen."

"Yet you could have been just that. The conclave would have gladly crowned you, had you just stayed in Myr and married a son of Myr," he told her. "The people would have cheered for you and followed you into the darkest night. Especially now when the first generation of children from your orphanage has reached adulthood with a chance to better their lives."

"I'm glad to hear that we could make a difference for these children," Senna replied with a smile.

"The orphanage is still doing well and the craftsmen and merchants often come to find new apprentices among the children." the old magister chuckled, as he saw the elation on her face. Her family had already done a lot for the city, but it was her dedication to those who needed her the most, that gained her the fierce devotion of the people. None of the magisters knew why she was so insistent on helping the people that the other noble families in the city had only ever looked with contempt. But they could not complain about her actions, not when she had done so much to improve her home city. But at the same time, many were worried how her absence would affect the city now...

"But as much as it pleases me to see you and talk about your little projects, I must ask why you are here." the magister asked.

Her smile waned quickly and a look of sorrow spread on her face. "I… I am in need of your help."

He nodded lightly, before he offered her his arm, to lead her further into his mansion. "Of course. But first, let us find some comfortable place and something to drink. Come, my dear."

He lead her into a room with several large recliners. His favorite room where he would only entertain his most valued guests. Richly furnished and homely. He ordered one of his servants to bring refreshments, while the others lit countless candles in the room.

"So tell me, Lady Senna, what can I do for you," Cossomo finally asked. His eyes strayed for a moment, up towards the man who had come with her. He still hid his face, but the way he stood behind the lady at all times, it was clear that he was her bodyguard.

Senna noticed his gaze and explained, "This is Thoros, a Red Priest from Myr's temple and my personal guard." The man in question finally revealed his face and inclined his head towards the magister.

"It pleases me to see that you put your safety into the hands of a myrish man, not one of those flimsy Westerosi knights," Cossomo told her with a smug look on his face. She chuckled as she saw this since she knew well enough how prideful her own people can be.

"She's in good hands, magister," Thoros assured him.

"I hope so. You wouldn't like the consequences, young man," Cossomo threatened lightly. "But still, you haven't answered me yet, my dear."

Senna sighed deeply. Now, in this properly lit room, the magister could see the sorrow in her eyes. And the more he saw this, the greater his anger grew. Anger at the men and the realm that had taken her from Myr. The people who had turned the shining light in her eyes into a dark abyss.

"What has your husband done? Do you need to get away from him? Just one word, my dear, and every able-bodied man in Myr will stand ready to defend your from that despicable king and his knights."

"No. No. No. This has nothing to do with my husband. Not entirely, at least," Senna quickly assured him. "Rhaegar has been nothing but kind and loving to me. He is not the problem."

"But something has happened," the magister sighed, "You wouldn't be here otherwise. Lady Senna, please stop torturing this old man and just tell me what has happened."

"My new family is in danger. My mother-in-law has been murdered only moments after giving birth to her daughter and even my life has been threatened. Unassuming people, long time servants, and trusted workers have turned against me and the royal family and… maybe I am overreacting here, but I feel like I can't trust the Westerosi people to protect my family."

He listened intently and bit his tongue even as he wanted to curse loudly. To hear that there had been attempts on her life was maddening, even though he had to admit that it wasn't entirely unexpected. But that she had to suffer such losses again, that angered him greatly. Judging by the pained look on her face, she had already formed some sort of bond with her mother-in-law. And anyone who knows Senna's past could easily see how much this death had hurt her. Most of her maternal influences had met a similar fate… as if the girl was cursed.

"Magister… I need you to triple the guards around my estate. Subtly, of course. No one except for my servants shall be allowed to enter or leave."

"Of course. As long as you stay here, we will protect you with our lives," the magister assured her.

But she shook her head softly. "It isn't me whom I ask you to protect, but my brother and newborn sister. Here they are out of reach for anyone in the Seven Kingdoms. Only a few trusted people from the west shall stay with them to ensure that they are raised in the customs of their homeland. But Viserys and Daenerys need this protection. I can defend myself, but they are little children caught up in the deadly schemes of grown men."

The magister remained silent for some moments, as he mulled over what she had asked of him. She wants him to protect Targaryens. The siblings of King Rhaegar Targaryen. And from the way she has said it, the king would not be privy to this secret arrangement. There was some danger in this. Should the king or anyone else in Westeros find out about this, they might spin this to give them an excuse to attack Myr. An abduction of royal children would be a severe insult to the Westerosi realm. But at the same time, all of this would happen on the request of their queen… yet that did not make this whole ordeal any less dangerous for Myr. Not to mention that it bothered him that she would return to Westeros on her own. Back to the place where people would try to kill her.

"I know that I should refuse," the magister sighed, "but for you, we will keep those children safe."

"Thank you, magister, I..."

"Under one condition," he interrupted her. "You will not return to Westeros on your own. You will take myrish men with myrish steel with you."

A look of contemplation passed over her features, before she softly shook her head, "I can't do that. I need men that I can trust absolutely. I just don't have the time to choose men and test their loyalty."

The old magister laughed, as he heard this. "You shouldn't worry about this. I'm not talking about just any men, but faithful warriors of the Lord of Light."

Senna looked unconvinced, but Thoros was obviously quite intrigued by this idea. At least the look on his face told her as much.

"I doubt that..."

"Your mentor," the magister began, "This Lady Melisandre, some months ago she showed up at the Red Temple here in Myr and spoke to the men and priests. She spoke about the promised child, Azor Ahai. And she spoke about the woman who will bring him into this world. She is quite the enthralling beast, that mentor of yours. Whipped up their devotion to the Phoenix, who will bring the light back into this world."

Senna frowned as she heard this. The look on her face revealed much about her thoughts. She was obviously displeased by her mentor's actions. But at the same time, she knew the value of the fanatic warriors that serve the temples. If they believe in her, only death would stop them from carrying out their duty.

"And you truly believe that they will follow me," she asked for clarification.

"Without a doubt," the magister replied. "But maybe it is better for you to see for yourself. Let us visit the temple in the morning and choose the men who will follow you into the darkness and back again."

"I… alright. I will visit the temple with you. But only briefly. Time is of the essence now and the longer I am gone, the more likely my absence will be noticed."


The council meeting had been well under way and the lords had quarreled for almost an hour when the Grand Maester joined them. Rhaegar, annoyed by the inconsequential squabbling of his lords, looked at the old man with great interest. Even in his old age, Pycelle had always been punctual. His absence at the beginning of the meeting had been noted and they had even sent a servant to look for the man. Now he was here and he carried a small piece of paper in his hands.

"Grand Maester! How nice of you to join us," Tywin growled darkly. It was obvious that the Hand of the King was quite displeased, though Rhaegar had no clue as to why Tywin Lannister would have need of the Grand Maester.

"Forgive me, your grace, my lords," Pycelle huffed. "I have been detained by an urgent matter."

"What is it?" Tywin demanded to know, "Out with it, we ain't got all day."

Pycelle looked worried for a moment. His beady eyes sought the king and begged for some sort of aid. But Rhaegar was just as curious and allowed Tywin to continue.

"Your grace… this is a personal matter that should not be discussed here. Not even in front of this council..." Pycelle said weakly.

"Speak freely, Grand Maester," Rhaegar ordered. Whatever Pycelle had to say, the men on the council would find out about it sooner or later. At least this way he knew where they have gotten their information from.

"As you wish, your grace," Pycelle conceded. He held up the piece of paper he had in his hand and said, "This letter has arrived from Dragonstone earlier with important news pertaining the royal family."

Rhaegar perked up when he heard that. He could only imagine one reason why they would write him. His mother must have given birth. A joyous occasion. The whole city would celebrate this day. The people could do with some reason to be happy, despite the winter, the plague and the fire ravaging the cities poorest.

"Your majesty… I am so very sorry, but her grace, the queen has died," Pycelle said mournfully.

The room was deadly silent, as all eyes in the room were focused on the king now. Rhaegar was pale, shocked by this. The queen… Is Senna dead? How? Why? Had they missed some of the assassins? Surely they couldn't have come as far as Dragonstone…

"Senna is..."

The Grand Maester looked surprised when Rhaegar uttered the name of his wife and was about to correct his mistake when Lord Steffon stormed towards him in a moment of righteous fury and snatched the letter from his hand.

"Queen mother! Can't you read, you imbecile! Maybe it is time for a new Grand Maester," Steffon barked at the man. "Queen mother Rhaella Targaryen is dead, murdered in her childbed only moments after the birth of her daughter, Daenerys Targaryen."

Rhaegar was torn by this news. On the one hand, he was relieved that Senna was not the one who had died. But his mother is gone now… Murdered, only moments after giving birth… what monsters would do such a thing?

"And Queen Senna? Does the letter say anything about our current queen," Tywin demanded to know when Rhaegar said nothing.

Steffon sighed deeply, as he nodded. "Yes. Apparently, there had been an attack on the queen as well. But her guards could kill the assassin before he was able to do her harm. But the queen and the royal siblings have vanished from Dragonstone and have not been seen for a whole day before the letter had been sent."

"What do you mean they have not been seen?" Tywin barked. "This is our queen we are talking about. And the king's brother and sister. Such people don't just vanish into thin air."

"That's all. Nothing more in the letter," Steffon replied, his tone equally dark, "But here, have a look." He tossed the letter towards the Hand of the King, who took and read it very carefully.

But as Tywin read the letter, Rhaegar had already made up his mind. "Ready my ship. I will leave for Dragonstone as soon as possible." He ordered.

"Your grace, that would be most unwise," Tywin told him in his most patronizing voice. It was in moments like these, that the Lord of Casterly Rock saw himself in the role of the educator and not just as a vassal of his king.

"I will not abandon my family," the king told his council hotly, "I have already failed enough by sending them away while investigating the murder conspiracy here in King's Landing. Never again will I allow them to be out of my reach."

"What murder conspiracy?" Tywin demanded, a look of mock outrage on his face.

"Ah, drop the act, Tywin," Steffon said loudly, "We all knew something was amiss and we both knew that the queen's sudden departure had not been because of the plague."

The Hand of the King looked sourly at his friend, but refrained from commenting further on this topic, "But my point remains, you should not leave King's Landing at this time, your grace. The Seven alone know how many more would-be assassins are just waiting for you to leave the safety of the Red Keep."

"I cannot and I will not abandon my family," Rhaegar hissed angrily.

"And no one demands that you do, your grace," Steffon interjected, "But Lord Tywin is right. You should not leave. If it would soothe your mind, I volunteer to go to Dragonstone and bring your family back home."

"You have your duties as the master of coin, Lord Steffon. I can't demand from you to do what I have failed at."

"The treasury is filled to the brim and unless you suddenly have the urge to host a grand event like the tourney at your wedding, my short absence will not be noticed at all. And the queen knows and trusts me," Steffon assured him. "I swear to you that I will find your wife and siblings and bring them back safely. On my honor!"

Again Rhaegar felt torn. He knew that the timing was more than unfortunate. His presence in the capital was essential. But he also wanted to be with his family. Oh, how he already cursed his stupid decision to send them away. Now he would have no choice but to send the Lord of the Stormlands to do what he could not. Protect his family.


The Red Temple in Myr was a grand building, built by great architects and funded by foreign masters with endless pockets. It was a building meant to inspire awe in the hapless masses and fear in the enemies of the faith. Senna was never sure what she really felt about it.

Some of her earliest memories with her mother had been connected to this very building. Her mother had been a devoted servant and many who knew her, had claimed that her mother would have joined the Red Temple in Volantis, had she not been sent to Myr to marry the last living son of House Peverell.

The enormous braziers, large enough to burn the wood of a dozen trees at once, shone brightly to the left and right of the large entrance. The red stones of the building looked as dark as blood in the early morning light. It was a menacing sight… yet to Senna, it felt familiar and calming.

She had waited for Magister Mercor in the morning since the man had offered to accompany her here, but when he failed to show up, she relented and went on her own.

"Home at last," Thoros commented idly, as they approached the temple. "But the other priests won't believe how we got here. Well, I don't even know how we have really gotten here."

"And you better stop talking about that while we are here, Thoros," Senna ordered sternly. A lot of people had seen her do magic in these past few days and she knew that it would impossible to keep it a secret for long now. Her magic. The part of her that makes Senna Peverell more than just another pretty little noble lady.

"Never fear, milady, I will treat your secrets as if they were my own," Thoros promised, as he gestured vigorously.

She refrained from commenting further, as she began to nervously fiddle around with her hood. She pulled it further down, striving to hide her identity from the people around her. She wasn't afraid of them, never would she have to fear the people in Myr. But until she was absolutely sure that her family was safe, no one was allowed to know that they are in Myr.

Once inside, Senna saw the numerous faithful, as they had come for the first prayers in the morning. Chanting could be heard and in the many different corners of the large room. But all of it was just as she remembered it. Nothing had changed, even though she had not been here since she had been a girl of eight. Lady Melisandre had never urged her to visit the temple, much to Senna's confusion.

"Thoros, what are you doing here? Sober and fully dressed for once?" a priestess approached them, a young woman, olive skinned with long dark hair and black eyes. A rhoynish woman, one of many others in Myr.

"Marei! The last time I've seen you, you were no bigger than a dwarf," Thoros laughed, "But the frown is still the same."

"You've been sent to Westeros to convince the dragon king of our lord's glory, so what are you doing here?"

Senna watched as an unbearable grin grew on Thoros' face, as he answered the young priestess, "Oh well, that king got himself impaled on his own throne." He shrugged.

"Then they have a new king, yet you are here," Marei admonished him.

"Oh, you are right, of course. But I have someone far better with me," Thoros said, as he looked at Senna.

She knew what he wanted of her and she agreed that the moment was right. So she removed her hood and looked imperiously at the girl. Thoros grin grew even wider, as he felt triumphant.

"Your grace," Marei almost fell to her knees as she realized who Thoros had come with.

The whole temple was suddenly silent, as all the people looked towards the sudden commotion, only to mirror the priestess' actions when they saw the last daughter of House Peverell standing in their midst.

It was then, when someone approached, whom Senna knew quite well. Lady Melisandre emerged from among a large group of priests, looking more regal and powerful than any of them could ever hope to appear. But as she approached Senna, the stern look on her face melted away and revealed the kind and enigmatic mentor Senna had known for almost all her life.

"My dear child, I have expected your return to us. Welcome home," she said, as she pulled Senna into a tight embrace, a gesture that Senna reciprocated gladly.

"Lady Melisandre, you can't even begin how glad I am to see you again," Senna told the woman. "I have come to ask for your help."

"I knew this day would come, my dear. The Lord of Light has shown it to me, this very moment when you will have to stop pretending to be just what meets the eye."

Senna did not comment on this. She had not made the best experiences with any form of Divination, but looking into a raging fire sure sounds more appealing than searching for clues in the remains of a terrible tea…

"You are what you are and if you truly wish to fulfill your destiny, it is time for you to embrace your heritage. Only then the Lord of Light can truly help you," the priestess continued.

Senna sighed, "It is not divine guidance I seek, but men and women I can trust with my life," she said.

"And here you will find them. Devoted followers of our lord. Prove to them that you are indeed the lord's chosen and they will follow you into the darkest night and back," Melisandre advised her, "Show them what you are capable of."

Then the priestess turned away from her and towards the crowd, which had gathered behind them. She was sure that their number had grown when she had not been looking. More people had come to the temple, as soon as word had spread that she was here.

"Brothers and sisters, the day I have prepared you all for has come. Sooner than expected, but it is our lord's will, so we will do as he bids us. Here before us stands Senna of House Peverell. A daughter of Myr and now the queen of the Seven Kingdoms. She is the phoenix of Myr, whom our lord has chosen to bring his light to the faithless masses in the west. She is the burning firebird "

Senna wasn't sure what she was supposed to do now? Did they expect her to say anything? Do anything? Whatever it was, countless eyes were now focused on her. She was used to being the center of all attention. She remembered how she had been seen as the savior in her first life, how people had revered her in one moment, only to revile her in the next. But these people… she wasn't sure what Lady Melisandre had done with them in these past few months, but the way they looked at her, it was almost as if they saw her as their messiah. Their eyes were desperately searching for any sign of divine power...

So she shrugged off her dark cloak, revealing her red and gold dress. She hadn't thought much about it when her servants had chosen this dress for her, but now she realized that it was almost the same color as the robes of the priests… how fitting. But this alone would not awe anyone. So she grabbed her staff, which she had shrunk and hidden in the folds of her dress. A small wave of magic and it extended to its full size. And almost as if she had planned it, Fawkes appeared, in all his fiery glory. Her very own firebird, born from a ball of flames, right before the eyes of the faithful men and women in the temple. His timing was utterly perfect, though she did not know why the phoenix had decided to appear now. Still, she was thankful that he had. When she extended her arm, the bird landed on it and nuzzled her cheek with his head.

"All hail Senna Peverell, the Phoenix Queen of Myr," Lady Melisandre announced loudly. "She who will bring the light to the darkness."

And the crowd reacted accordingly. All of them fell to their knees, heads bowed before her. Soon, only Senna, Melisandre, and Thoros were left standing, as all the others were on the ground, kneeling, chanting, and singing her praise.

"And now you have an army," Thoros muttered behind her. "Phoenix Queen… ho ho, those stuck up Septons will love you even more now."

She only managed a thin-lipped smile, as her eyes roamed through the room. Thoros was right. On both accounts. As long as these people continue to believe that she is a chosen of the Lord of Light, they will brave all the hells she would unleash upon them. But it wouldn't do her any good in the Seven Kingdoms, where the powerful were wary of her because of her origin. Yet she was sure about one thing, if this would keep her family safe, she will gladly face whatever opposition she would have at home…


"Just what has happened? Where is she?" Mina Tyrell asked as she paced around the room.

Except for her, only Ser Jonothor and Prince Lewyn had remained in the keep on Dragonstone. The queen, the royal children and those Dornish followers of her, all gone. And no one could tell her where and how… The queen had left her behind, that was a bitter truth, one that she had not been prepared to face.

"No one knows," Ser Jonothor replied, "All of them have vanished as if they were birds and just flew out of an open window."

"No one saw them leave, no one can find them in the keep or on this island," Prince Lewyn added. The Dornish Prince was quite distraught, the queen's protection had been his assigned duty. Not one but two kings had tasked him with this, but here he was, without her… and his niece and nephew had disappeared together with the queen… His sister would surely curse him from her grave, should she find out about this.

"No ships have come and gone since the attack on Queen Senna and the murder of the queen mother," Ser Jonothor said, "They have to be somewhere here on this island."

"Maybe not," Mina said, though she halted when her own mind tried to convince her that this could not be, "The queen… you have seen those powers… this red light and how it has tortured the assassin. Maybe there are other powers as well..."

"Impossible. It must have been a trick, the sunlight reflected from some piece of metal or something," Ser Jonothor insisted. He obviously had just as much trouble coming to terms with what he had seen as Mina.

But Prince Lewyn knew differently. He remembered clearly how an earlier altercation between Queen Senna and her father-in-law had ended. How she had seemingly thrown him from one end of the room to the other, shattering half the furniture in the process. Lord Commander Hightower had kept a close eye on her ever since, distrustful of what she was really capable of. It was pretty obvious that she was anything but a usual lady.

"But in the unlikely case that it was not the light..." Mina tried again.

"It was the sunlight," the knight insisted more vehemently.

"But if not, then that would mean that the queen is not just a simple woman, but much, much more," Mina finished her thoughts. "Just think about it. She is not just any noble lady, but the last of an ancient and revered Valyrian house. One that is just as old as House Targaryen, if not older… what if… what if those stories the old women tell the children about Valyria are true..."

"What?" Ser Jonothor laughed, "The Valyrians ruled with fire and blood, just like the Targaryens still do today. Their dragons burned half the world to ash so they could rule. Those flimsy little tales about all powerful men and women and their prophetic dreams and weird wonders are nothing but false tails to usurp a claim at godhood for the dragonlords. Stories told to increase the fear of the dragonlords to keep the slaves from rebelling against their unjust rule."

"Yet for over a century the Targaryens have tried and failed to hatch a dragon. Their blood had been thinned by marrying into other houses and countless generations of incest..."

"Careful girl. Such disrespect to the royal family can quickly loose you your tongue," the knight warned her.

"Of course," Mina said bitterly. Never say the truth about the royal family, unless it is flattering… "But what I mean is that Queen Senna might very well be the last true Valyrian with all their strange powers and knowledge. Just imagine what this could mean for all of us!"

"It changes nothing," Prince Lewyn breathed. He had been silent so far, as his own mind had come up with the worst possible outcomes for this all. But he knew he had to stop this girl's wild imagination now before she would tell the wrong people about things she does clearly not understand. "She is our queen and you will not talk about this with anyone."

"But..." Mina tried to protest, a distraught look on her face.

"No more. We will continue our search for the queen and the royal children. Pray that nothing has happened to them or the king will have our heads," the Dornish Prince said before he pushed past the girl and left the room.


Senna felt tired, as she had finally found her way back to her estate. The news about her presence had spread much faster than even she would have anticipated and by the time she had left the temple, a large crowd had gathered outside. The people wanted to see their lady. It had been a little more than a year since she had left for the Seven Kingdoms and even though her legacy in the form of healing houses and orphanages lived on even in her absence, they felt more content seeing her wander the streets of their city.

There was no doubt that soon enough the news of her presence in Myr would even reach King's Landing and Rhaegar… she tried no to think about her husband these days. Of course, she was worried. The people who had attacked her, who have killed Rhaella, they may just as well be after him. But Rhaegar had some of the best knights in the Seven Kingdoms to guard him. And a letter about the threat had to suffice for now… She would see him again, soon. She promised herself that it would be soon.

But for now, she had other things to deal with. After the struggle to get back home, only guarded by Thoros and a dozen faithful warriors from the temple, all she could think about was a bath and some sleep. She chuckled, amused about her own priorities. It wasn't even noon yet and she wanted nothing more than to go back to bed, to crawl beneath the warm blankets and forget about the world. At least for some more blissful hours. Dealing with the sudden worship by the followers of the Red Temple had been taxing, but she was glad that she had Lady Melisandre with her to help her.

"Sister!"

Viserys had been waiting for her return, dressed in fine clothes of Myrish fashion and with the wide curious eyes that only an innocent young child could have. Her heart ached as she looked at him. She had yet to tell him that his mother was dead and she had no idea how she was supposed to explain to a three-year-old boy that his mother had been murdered… He had cried for a whole week after his father had died, but his mother had managed to calm him down. But now...

"Viserys, shouldn't you be with your tutor," she chided him lightly. One of her own teachers, a well-educated slave, who had served her family for decades, had taken over the boys education for now. He would do far better than any of those fraudulent Maesters and Senna was still debating whether she should bring the teacher back to King's Landing with her. For Viserys and Daenerys… and her own children, should the man live long enough. He was very old already.

"History is boring..." the boy lamented.

Senna smiled as she heard him, as she remembered her first life. Binns, the ghost who put whole classes to sleep within moments, she remembered him well. Only in her second life, she had learned the value of those history lessons. Events always repeat themselves. Learn from the past, to influence the future…

"Are not interested in learning about this city and its long and proud history?" She asked him, mock pouting, to fake disappointment.

It worked just as intended, "No. No. But the old man is boring! You tell me the history of your city," he insisted.

"It isn't my city, Viserys," she told him with a laugh, "Myr is ruled by a convocation of Magisters. Old and wise men, who know best about what the people need."

"How very nice of you to speak so highly of us!"

She turned around and saw Magister Mercor, together with Magister Varghan standing at the entrance of the house, a knowing look on their faces, as they approached her and the young prince.

Senna approached Varghan first and hugged the man happily. He had left King's Landing about a month after her wedding, together with his children. She had missed them all dearly. But when she came back to get help, she had not dared to approach Varghan. His son had been hurt badly and she did not want to drag his family into whatever madness she had landed herself in. But he obviously wouldn't stay away, no matter what she did.

"So this is the young prince," Magister Mercor said, as he looked at Viserys.

The boy showed no fear and looked back with all the defiance a three-year-old could muster. Senna laughed, as she got back to Viserys and picked him up. The boy looked pleased to be nearly on the same level as the men, thanks to Senna carrying him.

"Magisters, may I introduce. This is Viserys of House Targaryen, son of the late King Aerys Targaryen and currently first in line for the Iron Throne," she told the men. Viserys looked smugly at them. Maybe it was because of the respectful introduction or due to the fact that he now was the only 'man' close to his sister. He would likely not be very forthcoming should she ask him. But it all only mad him more adorable.

"We are very honored your highness," Magister Mercor indulged the boy and even made a brief bow. "We will only have need of the queen for some short moments, then she will be all yours again."

Viserys huffed and would have likely told them to leave, had Senna not shot him a chastising look. "Fine," the young boy relented. "But only for a few moments."

"Enough, Viserys," Senna told the boy, as she sat him back down on the ground. "Please return to your tutor. If you behave, I will tell you a story later."

The boy looked unconvinced, but a gentle shove from the queen was enough to make him leave the room. She was glad that he wasn't stubborn about this. She had seen some of his tantrums and they weren't pretty. But strangely enough, he never, not even once, tried such a thing with his mother or her. But Rhaegar… he had suffered his brother's temper more than once.

"What a possessive little boy," Magister Mercor commented with a chuckle, "Be careful when he gets older. He might get jealous of your husband."

"He has a new sister to dote on. Once she does anything but eat, and sleep, he will soon forget about me," she lamented. "But come, let's get more comfortable. Some wine would be good, no?"

They walked out onto the terrace, to enjoy the warm midday sun. It was one of those things Senna missed the most in her new homeland. Even in Winter, the temperatures in Myr were always pleasant. Not like Dragonstone, where the cold winter wind feels like a thousand knives that try to cut the flesh from your bones… which reminded her...

"Magister Mercor, I have a request to make," she said.

"Anything my dear. Just ask," the old man assured her.

"My people on the island of Dragonstone are suffering from the harsh winter. Food is scarce and even the means to make a warming fire are getting hard to come by. I need several ships filled with food, wood, and warm pelts to be sent to the island of Dragonstone. I will pay it all from my personal vaults," she told the man.

Mercor nodded. It wasn't such a big request and easily doable. Myr is a trade city and almost everything she had asked for could be acquired within a day or less.

"I will see it done," Magister Varghan promised, much to her relief.

Despite all that had happened, the vast majority of the people on the island deserved her care and compassion as their queen and she wouldn't see them suffer for the deeds of a few.

"There is another matter," Magister Mercor began, "Your recent visit to the Red Temple went well, I suppose."

"I have a small army of personal guards now, thanks to Lady Melisandre's hard work," Senna told them. "A hundred men, ready to fight and die for their Phoenix Queen."

Oh, how she already hated that new moniker. As if she had not suffered enough from her monikers in her first life as Harry. At least as a demigod they only called her one thing. Traitor. Not the best thing to being called, but better than boy-who-just-wouldn't-die or now the Phoenix Queen… At least the people had a viable reason to call her that. This was Death's fault. He always claims that he has little influence on the events in each world, but either she has the worst luck ever or he does far more than just watching her struggle.

"With your… abilities, many more of those zealots will follow you. Give it some time and you will have a real army," Mercor told her, "Which leads us to another problem that needs to be addressed now. You have men, but you need to arm them properly. Most of them may be experienced fighters, but the personal guard of a queen needs to be impressive. Both in skill and in looks."

"No worries," Senna assured him, "I have enough weapons and armors stored in the vaults. Remnants of the time when my family had a household guard numbering in the thousands. It will do nicely now."

"But will it this guard be enough? They tried to kill you. They succeeded in killing the former queen. Maybe it would be better for you to stay here in Myr and let others deal with this threat," Varghan was obviously concerned for her safety, which only endeared him more to her.

But this was her fight. Lady Melisandre was right, the time to hide what she really is has passed. This world would see what a true-born Valyrian Witch is capable of. She was done hiding in the shadows. They had taken her by surprise with this attack. Had she known about this plot, she would have spent every waking moment hunting those who would hurt her family down. She would do so now. And this time, she would show them no quarter. For too long had she tried to be more like Harry, maybe it was time to remember why Cassandra had been one of the most feared and reviled demigods in history.


It was a dreadful sight, the rundown village outside of the capital's gates. Tens of thousands of poor and displaced, suffering in silence, just outside of the glorious city from where their world was ruled. The hovels they lived in were close to collapsing and what they called paths were little more than rivers of mud. It was a terrible sight.

Tygett Lannister, second oldest brother of Lord Tywin Lannister, looked upon this city of the poor with distaste. His brother had tasked him with putting an end to this place, but Tygett barely dared to pass through this place. With all the diseases and violent peasants, death was a likely reward for trying to set foot into this muddy dump.

At least he wasn't alone. He had two dozen Lannister guardsmen and a hundred Gold Cloaks with him. It reassured him somewhat. But still, this was an honorless and thankless job and he cursed his timing. He had come to King's Landing to speak to his brother about the arranged marriage to Darlessa Marbrand. Tywin had arranged this match behind Tygett's back and though he knew that nothing would change his brother's mind, he still wanted to yell at him for it. Just for good measure. But instead of a liberating temper tantrum, he had been tasked with this god-forsaken duty. Now he had two reasons to yell at his brother.

"By command of his majesty King Rhaegar Targaryen, this illegal settlement has to be abandoned and all its denizens are hereby evicted from the capital and the surrounding lands," Tygett yelled loudly. But the people around him simply ignored him.

"Leave people or else we will make you leave!" He yelled again. But once more the people paid him no heed. Maybe they hoped that he would just leave or maybe they were simply too sick and tired to follow this demand. He did not know, nor did he care. He had been tasked with getting rid of these people and he would do so. A little scare would surely make them leave.

"Men, to arms," he ordered.

This time, the people reacted, as the more than one hundred armed men drew their swords. There were fear and uncertainty in their faces and Tygett felt miserable for forcing these half dead people away from the shoddy homes they had built themselves to survive the winter. The way they looked, maybe one out of ten would survive in the wilds, maybe even less. But his brother's command was as good as the king's and his brother had ordered him to put an end to this growing hive of poverty and disease.

"Forward, drive them from their homes and burn this infernal place to the ground," he ordered loudly.

As his men marched, the poor people fled in sheer terror. Carts got knocked over and tools lay discarded on the ground. Those too slow or too small got knocked over and trampled, as the witless mass of beggars and displaced farmers began to ran for their lives. Tygett was barely able to look at it after he saw a child, surely no older than two or free, face down in the mud, unmoving as the fleeing stepped on it again and again…

"Lannister! Get down off your fucking horse and fight me, but don't send your fancy guardsmen to slaughter these peasants," a man suddenly appeared between the running peasants. He was clad in armor with shield and sword in hands. The shield was yellow with a winged black heart, a sigil that Tygett could not recall seeing before. But from the looks, the man was likely a knight or at least he pretended to be.

When his men quickly surrounded the unknown knight, but Tygett would not let them stop them. "Leave him be. He is mine," Tygett ordered.

He quickly dismounted from his horse and drew his own sword. He smirked as enjoyed this moment. A chance to vent some steam before he would face his brother once more.

"Yes, try to win back your honor, you fucking worm," the strange knight yelled at him, as he banged his sword against his shield. "Fight me!"

"Don't complain when you lack a limb after this," Tygett retorted cockily before he charged towards his foe.

They traded blows, to gauge the skill of the other before Tygett quickly tried to overpower the man. The unknown knight's wooden shield chipped and splintered under the relentless assault, as Tygett poured all his anger and frustration into his blows. But for every blow he received, he returned the fierceness in equal measure.

"You fight like a fucking coward, hiding behind your shield," Tygett mocked, as he breathed heavily.

"Strong words from a man who uses armed men to destroy the lives of indigent peasants," the knight shot back.

Tygett only laughed, as he swung his sword high and hit the shield once more, this time with all the might he could muster. The blade struck deep and left a large gash in the shield, but to Tygett's horror, it was stuck and with a strong pull from the knight, he suddenly found himself disarmed and cornered.

"A sword," he yelled at his men. And before his opponent could interfere, Tygett had ran towards one of his guards and wrestled the sword from the man's grip.

So he continued his relentless assault until the shield was reduced to a pile of splinters on the ground. But even without his protection, the other knight proved to be more than he had expected. He was skilled, highly so. But he lacked the refinement of men trained by a true swordmaster.

"You are good, Lannister. All that gold you shit has been put to good use," the knight muttered. "But it won't save your life today!"

"Just give up and die already," Tygett said, as he swung his sword again. And this time, it found its intended mark and cut deeply into the knight's upper arm. "This is over!"

"Drop your sword and step back from him," another man yelled.

Tygett cursed, as he saw several men standing on the roofs and between the hovels, all with bows in their head, aiming at him. He yelled in frustration, at his men, who had been so preoccupied with watching his fight, that they did not even see these armed men coming.

"This is not over, Lannister! The people will remember your actions here," the knight said before turned away to leave.

But Tygett's men stopped him. "Let him go!" One of the outlaws yelled. Only when an angry Tygett gave them the order to comply, they allowed the knight to leave.

"What is your name," Tygett yelled at the knight.

The man stopped for a moment and turned around to answer, "I will tell you moments before I kill you, so you can tell the gods who sent you," he answered before he quickly ran away.

Tygett stayed behind, furious and tired. He threw his sword on the ground in a fit of rage and returned to his horse. His men could finish their grizzly duty without him. He was in dire need of as much alcohol as his purse could afford him.


Rhaegar felt weary, dead on his feet even, as he finally decided to end the day and retire for the night. The days as the king had become far longer than he would have ever expected and without his family to lighten his mood, his thoughts had turned darker on a regular basis. Or maybe it was just the threat to his family that fueled his anger.

His mother's murder had numbed him to the world for days. The disappearance of Senna and his siblings had only worsened things even more. He had to trust Lord Steffon, that the man would find his family and return them to him.

"I will make another round, check on the guards in all the corridors and all that," Arthur told him, as they had reached the door to his chambers. "Rest easy for tonight, nothing will happen, my friend."

"Do whatever you want, just let me sleep. Seven Hells, I would kill for just one night of undisturbed sleep," Rhaegar muttered.

Arthur laughed, "One whole night? Now you are getting greedy."

"Greed is the king's prerogative," Rhaegar shot back. Both of them chuckled before Arthur bid him good night and left him in the care of his other guards.

Rhaegar sighed deeply, as soon as the doors of his chambers were closed behind him. At least here, in his chambers, he was undisturbed. Though he also felt alone. Who could have expected that he would grow accustomed to Senna's presence so quickly… ever since he had sent her away, these chambers had become empty and lifeless. The rooms were still the same, but it was also as if all light had left them…

But something was different. He didn't know why, but he felt different. Nothing had changed, but still, just being here felt… strange…

He proceeded cautiously, his hand on the pommel of the sword he carried with him at all times now. Someone was here, he was sure of it. He had half a mind to call for the guards, who were stationed just outside of the door. But he did not. Instead, he walked further into his bedroom, which was dimly lit by several candles his servants had left for him earlier this evening.

He saw a shadow, sitting on his bed, waiting for him. He pulled his sword, slowly and as silently as possible before he approached further. If this was just another one of those assassins, he would vent all his frustrations on this traitor.

"It was about time for you to return," the shadow said.

Rhaegar almost dropped his sword, when he recognized the voice. But this couldn't be… of course, it could. Senna had proven before, that she could travel great distances in a matter of moments…

"Senna?"

It was really her. When she stood up from the bed to face him, he could see her clearly before him. Just as beautiful as the day he had sent her away. But there was a change. A fierceness in her eyes and her posture, that had not been there before.

"Rhaegar," she smiled at him.

But before she could say any more, he had dropped his sword and pulled her into his arms. Their lips met in a kiss filled with longing, with the feverish desire for each other. She responded to his boldness just as eagerly and moaned lightly into the kiss when his hands began to wander. Only when the need to breath became too much, their lips parted again.

"I can hardly believe it. But you are here. You are real and in my arms."

She looked so perfect to him, it was almost like a dream. Or maybe this was a dream. At least it would have been a good one. But no, she was real and he was awake. And though there was this hardness in her looks now, she was still so much more than he deserves...

"I just couldn't stay away, Rhaegar. I had to know that you are alright. After all, that had happened, after Rhaella's death, I had to see you with my own eyes," she told him somberly, as her hand caressed his face. There was great worry in her eyes ad

"You can't even begin to imagine how much I have yearned for you," Rhaegar said, "Not knowing where you are was even greater torture than the knowledge that my mother had been murdered. Some of the lords are sure that are dead as well..."

"One thing they don't know about me is that death and I have a rather… ambiguous relationship," she laughed. "It takes more than some assassins to get rid of me. Many have tried, no one has succeeded. You will never have to fear for me, I promise you that."

"Still… where have you been? Where are Viserys and my sister?"

"Daenerys. Her name is Daenerys. And they are safe. I have brought them to the only place where I can trust the people absolutely."

"Myr..." he realized that the answer had been so utterly obvious. Yet no one had ever entertained the idea that she might have gone home. He laughed lightly, as he realized his folly.

"Myr, yes. My people are utterly loyal and with the help of the Magisters I can assure the safety of both Viserys and Daenerys," she told him. "And your brother loves Myr. He is so adorable when he stands on the high terrace and looks down on the city and the harbor, asking about all the different things he can see."

A forlorn look passed over Rhaegar's face when he heard her. She can trust the people in Myr with her life, yet here in the Seven Kingdoms, in his kingdom, the people she was supposed to trust had tried to kill her… it was his failure as their king… and his failure as her husband. He tried to protect her, unsuspecting that there are far more people involved in this conspiracy than he would have even considered in his worst nightmares...

"Hey, it is not your fault," Senna told him. He looked away from her, but she would have none of this. She placed her hands on his cheeks and gently forced him to look at her again. "It is not your fault." She repeated once more before she kissed him briefly. "No one could have expected this. Had I known..."

"I knew..." he told her, his voice halting. "I knew that there had been a plot to kill you. I knew that there is a cult that only exists to see you dead… it is why I sent you away. The plague was only a pretense..." It wasn't easy to tell her, but he was well aware that he shouldn't… no, he mustn't hide this from her any longer. It would only damage their relationship more if he did that.

She suddenly let go of him and took a step back, a shocked look on her face. Her eyes were wide in disbelief. She mumbled something, but he could not understand what it was. But he a feeling that it wasn't anything good.

"Senna..."

"You foolish, foolish man. Why? Why didn't you tell me? I would have been more careful. I would have taken precautions. Your mother would still be alive!" She told him hotly. "But misplaced pride kept you from trusting me!"

"I wanted to protect you," he told her. But even he had realized that in the end, his attempts had backfired in the worst possible way.

"And what a splendid job you have done," she shot back sarcastically. "You have no idea how much you have destroyed this way. I… I need to think about this… about everything.

"Senna, don't make a mistake," Rhaegar warned her.

She only chuckled humorlessly in response. "I won't," she shook her head, a sad look on her face, "I will return in a month… with the people I can trust. Don't come looking for me until then. I… I need time."

And before he could respond, she was gone once more. A cracking sound was all that could be heard before he was alone in his room once more. He wasn't sure how much damage his decision had done to his feeble relationship with his wife, but no matter what, he would make it up to her. He had already paid an enormous price for his mistake. He had lost his mother, he wouldn't lose his wife as well…


A/N: So much for today.

I had mentioned it before, Melisandre plays a role in Senna's life. A big role. Though in the end, it isn't Senna herself that she cares about, but rather the son she expects her to have in the future. She plays her games behind the scenes, much like Dumbledore, though her plans for Senna are far less... fatalistic in nature.

I have been told before that Senna is rather naive when it comes to her trust in the people of Myr. That is indeed so. It is her home and except for her parents' deaths, she has suffered no harm or seen any danger there. In fact, she had been raised and treated like a princess by the Magisters, who had far less benevolent schemes in mind for her. The last daughter of a prestigious and rich family, whoever would have managed to bind her to his house, his family would have gained great power in Myr. Of course, she knew little of that. Even now, as queen of a foreign realm, they fawn over her, because she is of great value to them. So Senna sees them as her help and loyal friends. For now, at least.

And no, Senna herself is not religious. Her parents had been. Her mother especially, who had been from Volantis and an ardent follower of the Lord of Light. But she is no fool and sees the value of loyal fanatics. In the end, in the Game of Thrones, even religion is a useful tool.

Alright, so much for today. Next week we will have the big return to King's Landing and some huge steps in the growth of Senna's relationship with her husband. So see you all next week...