Rosalyn sat down upon the edge of one of the shaded pools atop the Maegyr Manse in Pentos. She sighed with relief as she slipped her legs in to the cool water. She cupped some the water in her hands and splashed it on her face. She did it again, pouring the water on her legs and allowing the rivulets to caress her skin. The pools seemed to be the only way to escape the heat of the city.

She would miss the pools when she left Pentos in two days. She would miss Pentos as well, as strange as that seemed. She was unaccustomed to the hot weather and the unusual food. She was still uncomfortable in the airy clothes of Pentos, clothing which would not be worn outside of a sleeping room in the North. It was Robb's widow and Jon's wife whom she would miss.

Talisa and Ygritte were as different from one another as day was from night. Talisa was a highborn noblewoman. She had been educated by the best tutors money could buy. She spoke Volantene, High Valyrian, Westerosi, Pentoshi, Braavosi, and Dothraki. She was also a trained healer.

Ygritte on the other hand was a wildling in every possible sense of the word. She was uneducated, illiterate, and unrefined. She cared nothing for the opinions of other people and held strongly to her own opinions, no matter if she was right or wrong. She could fight with a sword and a bow. She had no use for power or position or respect based upon birth... and this was the girl who, in theory, was Queen of Westeros... By the old gods and the new it would be a miracle if anyone ever accepted Ygritte as a Queen.

Perhaps that miracle could be Talisa Maegyr. Although their thick accents made conversations between the two women difficult and somewhat entertaining to overhear, they spent much time together. They had begun to bond with one another, mostly over their pregnancies which were swiftly approaching their ends. Rosalyn hoped that Talisa would be able to teach the ever unruly wildling girl how to behave as a noble woman. It was a task which Rosalyn did not envy. Her greatest regret in leaving the two women was that she would not see the births of the children.

"I thought that I would find you here," Talisa said quietly as she emerged from the breezeway to Rosalyn's right.

She greeted Robb's widow with a gentle smile. "I must enjoy the cool waters of your home whilst I still can. Where is Ygritte?"

"Resting in her rooms. Mella, my maid, laid wet cloths on her and is fanning her. The heat is not easy on her, especially with how far along she is."

"You do not seem so affected."

Talisa gave her a wan smile. "She has never lived in lands without snow. I am from farther south than where we are now."

"From where I must soon visit." She paused, watching as Talisa slipped off her sandals and sat upon the edge of the pool as well. "Do you think that we will succeed?"

She chewed her lip thoughtfully. "I do not know. I hope that my brother will succeed in convincing the Triarchs to side with you."

Rosalyn breathed deeply, calming her anxieties. What was the use of worrying when arriving in Volantis was over a month away? They needed the armies of Volantis to ally with their cause, it was the only way to win Westeros. "If we gain your father's armies, we can secure the North for your child and the south for Ygritte's child."

Talisa's expression turned bitter. "For my child..." She stroked her large belly gently. "Only if I birth a son. You read Lady Catelyn's letter. She does not think that the North will support Robb's daughter, not when Lord Eddard's son or sons are still safely in the North. 'The Queen Who Lost the North,' they call me. A foreign girl who does not belong to the North. Why would they accept my child?"

Rosalyn had read the letter shortly after Talisa. They had both been furious at the words Lady Catelyn had written. She said that the men of the North had followed Robb until their deaths. She was uncertain if the men who remained would follow Robb's child, an infant of a foreign woman who was born on foreign soil. If Lord Eddard Stark's children had survived, the North would likely support his children over a child whose birth some might question. Lady Catelyn had insisted that she did not doubt that Robb was the father of Talisa's child, but some of his bannermen might not believe it so easily.

"I don't know," Rosalyn whispered. "All that we can do is hope for the best."

"In this world in which we live, does the best even seem likely?"

Talisa looked up at her, her gaze firm and fixed. Rosalyn shook her head in silence. The best seemed impossible. War still ravaged Westeros. The Others and un-dead things lived beyond the Wall, threatening the North. Then there were the dragons. The dragons were in chains. They were angry, clawing at the stones and chains which imprisoned them. They would kill to be free. Mother had forgotten them, betrayed them.

The silence was filled by the chirping of birds who flitted between the palm plants which lined the rooftop of the manse. There would be no joy in these dark endeavors. There would be little hope. Just dragons, if she could get to Volantis before they too decided to make war against Mereen. With the influence of Talisa's brother, it was hoped that Volantis would side with Daenerys instead of against Daenerys. The cost was steep. Rosalyn could sense her father's displeasure with the idea from beyond the grave.

The day she would leave from the docks of Pentos, she knew that she would miss everything about the place. She would miss the warm, dry air which smelt of spices, salt, fish, and sweat. She would miss the strange spices in their foods. She would miss Ygritte, with all her heart and soul she would miss the girl who had won her brother's heart. She would miss Talisa just as fiercely, though that had only spent a few weeks with one another. Her heart would ache at the loss of safety and family. Of the northerners from House Umber who had travelled with Queen Talisa to Pentos, none would accompany Rosalyn on her journey to Volantis and then to Mereen, to Daenerys. For the first time in her life she would be truly on her own.

She would have Bevalio Maegyr with her as a companion, but he was little more than a stranger. A kind stranger, and brother to Robb's widow, but a stranger none the less.

The day arrived for their departure. They would leave with the morning tide, and from there they would journey to Volantis to seek the favor of the Triarchs. Their trunks were filled with food and supplies, weapons, riches, and clothes. Rosalyn's furs were left behind in Pentos, if ever she were to return to Westeros, it would be through Pentos. She would have no need of furs where she was travelling.

Ygritte, Talisa, Smalljon Umber, and all the northern contingent walked with them to the docks.

They had seen her as a traitor at first, these northmen who loved her brother-cousin so much that the guarded his unborn child. She had been in Winterfell when Bran and Rickon were murdered. So she sold them her lies. She told them that Theon had hurt her, threatened her brothers if she did not comply with his wishes. She sold her lies with tears even as the bile burned her throat. If ever Theon Greyjoy met a northmen to whom she had told her tale, he would be dead. A part of her truly pitied Theon and wished for his forgiveness.

She told the truth as well, that her brothers lived when last she had seen them. By the grace of the gods they would stay alive. By the grace of the gods they would all survive these wars and return home and be together once again.

They parted with fierce embraces and family kisses.

"I wish you both good health, and for that of your children," Rosalyn said in parting to the two women. They bade her a safe journey as she walked away.

Upon the deck of the ship, she watched as her family and supporters slowly shrank from view. When they were walking back into the manse, she could have sworn that she saw Jon Umber lay a comforting hand upon Talisa's back as they walked into the manse.

After a week of smooth sailing, the seas turned rough. Rosalyn shut herself in her cabin and spent her days attempting not to vomit up the food she had eaten that day. When the seas were smooth, she had been able to continue learning her swordplay with Bevalio and some of his men. Only Bevalio could speak the tongue of Westeros, so she had little choice but to remain alone when the seas were rough and Bevalio was assisting with the crew.

Then one day, after the storms had died down, she retired to her rooms in pain. She felt as though a knife were ripping through her heart. She lay down in her bed, hoping that the pain would ebb. She drifted to sleep, still reeling from the pain which flooded her body.

She found herself in Winterfell as she had seen it last—burnt and broken, though the ground was covered in snow. A voice whispered her name, though she knew not where the voice came from. She called out into the snow, but no one answered. She ran to the crypts, to find Bran and Rickon. The way was dark, but there was warmth in the ancient stones of the crypts. They looked upon her in judgment, these long faced men of long ago. She found herself at the end of the newest carvings. Her grandfather, her uncle, her mother, and the uncle whom she called father.

"Mother," she called out. "Father. I'm sorry father."

Eddard Stark's gaze was disapproving. Lyanna Stark looked upon her in tears. Rosalyn turned her face away from their penetrating gazes and cried out in terror. Near the tombs stood two direwolves, one young and one older and larger. Beside them stood Robb. He was dressed as befit a king, with a crown of bronze and iron upon his head.

"Avenge me," he whispered. He laid his hand upon his direwolf and looked upon her with so much sadness that her heart broke.

"I will," she cried. "I promise."

Behind him a mist appeared. Robb's shade turned to see what was coming. In the mists she saw her greatest fear.

"Jon! No, no, you can't be here!" She screamed the words at the visage of her twin.

"Rosa?" He gazed at her with confusion, touching his stomach in disbelief. The brothers' eyes met and Jon's face became grim with understanding.

"No," their mother whispered. "It isn't time."

"I tried," Jon pled. Then he turned, as a different shadow emerged.

It was a man, regal to behold, tall and powerful. He worn a crown of iron, forged with runes. His eyes were dark grey, darker than any Rosalyn had ever seen. "It is time to make amends," the stranger said. "Come with me."

Jon nodded and followed after the man. He cast a final gaze at Rosalyn before they disappeared.

Rosalyn awoke screaming. The pain which had filled her left nothing but emptiness in its wake. "Jon," she whispered. She knew he was gone, though she did not understand why or how.

"Rosalyn," Bevalio shouted in the small corridor as he banged upon her door. "Rosalyn, is all well?"

Weak, she arose from the bed and opened the door. He was standing before her with a blade in one hand and a lantern in the other. "What happened? I heard you scream."

"A horrible dream," she choked out. "Such a horrible dream. I think that my twin..." She dared not say the word out loud, in case it were true.

He sheathed his blade and set the lantern upon a hook in the room. "It was only a dream," he soothed, placing a gentle hand upon her shoulder.

She shook her head fiercely as tears streamed from her eyes. "He's gone. I know he is... I... I can feel it. Like something is missing inside and it was there only moments ago."

He made soft shushing sounds and led her to the bed. He sat down and she sat beside him, allowing him to wrap his arms around her as she wept.

"Tali refused to let me see her weep for Robb," he told her quietly. "To know what you have lost, I cannot imagine how it must be for you to travel to the other side of the world, not knowing if our plans will succeed."

"My father would hate me for what we plan to do," she whispered against his chest.

"Do you believe that it is necessary?"

Yes, she knew that what they planned to do was necessary. "We need the armies, we need Daenerys and the dragons."

"Then that is what we will get."

She nodded weakly against him, not entirely convincing herself that he was correct. Their entire plan just felt wrong. The plan went against so many things which she had always believed in. They fell into silence as they sat upon the bed, his hands ran along her spine in soothing patterns. She relaxed willingly into his hands, feeling herself warm at the gentle touches he made.

She looked up at him and the naked expression with which he regarded her sent a warm shiver through her body. One of his hands left her back and caressed her cheek.

"You are beautiful," he murmured.

She laughed, a nervous energy filling her body. "I was just sobbing hysterically. How can you call that beautiful?"

He smiled at her. "You are always beautiful."

Every sensible, well-behaved part of her told her to send him from the room that instant. The lonelier side of her which hungered for more wanted him to stay. It was a foolish desire. Her eyes flickered between his lips and eyes while his did much the same. A voice in her head was certain that he was trying to use her. A very different voice did not care. A sensible voice reminded her that there was most certainly no moon tea aboard the ship. They were all drowned away when he bent down and pressed their lips together.

Their lips crashed together, a flurry of heated motion. She needed more, wanted more. She glanced to the door briefly and saw that it was closed. A sensible person would bolt the door, but to do so would remove his hands from her body. She did not want to part from him, for then the spell would end. She wrapped a hand around his neck and kissed him hard. He pulled her onto himself and rocked against her, a motion made stronger by the movement of the ship.

She willed herself to forget everything but the feeling of his hands upon her skin as he removed her sleeping garment. She forced herself to forget the ghostly visages of her mother, adopted father, and brothers. She needed to feel alive, if only for a few moments.

She ran her hands through his dark hair, grasping at him as though he were her only link to life. She pulled at his shirt as he laid kisses upon her neck and chest. A smarter girl would have asked why, but she did not want to understand. She wanted to feel. And for a time that seemed like an instant and forever, Rosalyn Targaryen was able to forget everything but pleasure.

It was afterward, when they lay side by side, that an overwhelming feeling of guilt seeped into her mind. "Why," she whispered. His arms were wrapped around her as she stared at the cabin walls.

"Hmm," his response was languid and wordless.

"Why did we... just now..."

He kissed her shoulder, as gently as a butterfly kiss. "I do not often consider why. I hope that I have not offended you."

She laughed. "No, I am not offended. I... I just always dreamed that I would only be in bed with a man whom I love. I was coerced and did not like the first man at all. I scarcely know you."

"I think that I know you," he replied gently, running a lazy hand along her hip. "You are kind, caring, determined. You would sail across the world in order to find a way to restore your family, which tells me that your family means more to you than anything else in the world. It tells me that my sister's family cares about her well-being and that of her child. Few women are so brave as you. Few women are as beautiful as you."

They fell silent as she pondered his words. "Thank you," she said finally. "Does this mean anything?"

"This," he questioned. "The sharing of pleasure with one another? It can mean as much or as little as you wish. I may not wed without my father's consent, not after Talisa did that very thing. Yet you are of the old blood, which is acceptable to my family. If you would not wish to marry me, then we are simply friends who have enjoyed the pleasures of one another."

'Of the Old Blood...' He had been told of her heritage, it was the only way for him to agree with their plan. Robb had told Talisa that Rosalyn and Jon were trueborn Targaryens. Catelyn's letter spoke of the truth as well. Talisa and Rosalyn had both told Bevalio the truth.

"Did you know," he continued when she had not spoken. "There are several religions which see sex as an act of worship to the gods? The worshipers of the Lord of Light and the people of the Summer Islands use sex in their worship."

"I do not follow either of those religions. What do you believe? In Volantis?"

"It varies from family to family. Some follow the Lord of Light, others follow a hundred different gods of the region. I am of the old blood, we still worship the gods of Valyria."

There were gods of Valyria? This was an unexpectedly interesting, and not awkward, conversation. "What are the gods of Valyria? I have not been taught about them."

He released a light laugh. "Valyria was the mother of all, creator. Her three children were Balerion, Vhagar, and Meraxes."

"The three dragons of Aegon the Conqueror and his two sisters."

"Yes, the very same. They were named for the gods of old Valyria as many dragons were before the Doom destroyed most of the dragons. The children of Valyria were the three great gods, holding the world in balance. For this reason, in old Valyria it was not unusual for a married man to wed a second wife."

She smiled, wondering if this was a tale which her mother had ever heard. Had this been the story to win her mother's heart? "To hold the world in balance?"

He kissed the back of her head. "Yes, though for other reasons as well. It was Valyrian tradition for the eldest son and daughter of a family to wed in order to keep the bloodline pure. A tradition carried on by House Targaryen until they were nearly extinguished. A second wife was often married from outside the family for many different reasons."

"How strange Valyrians seem."

"Says a daughter of Valyria."

"I am also of the oldest blood of Westeros, the First Men, from the very beginnings of time."

"A most noble heritage. One which will be able to sway my father to your side."

"And Volantis will be made as Valyria of old." That was the plan. The plan which churned her stomach and made her think upon the judging gaze of her father. To make Volantis as powerful as Valyria of old. Daenerys would hate her for it as well.

"Will you stay with me tonight," she asked after silence had fallen in the cabin again.

"Does it seem that I wish to leave?" They both laughed a little at that. "I will remain beside you for as long as you wish and as many nights as you wish."

The idea sounded both wonderful and perfectly foolish. She said nothing and pulled his arms close around her. She did not want to think upon the horrors which lay before her or the ones which lay behind. She did not want to think about the empty ache which had appeared when she dreamt of Jon in the crypts beneath Winterfell. So she did not think when she lay in his arms, safe, if only for the moment.

The days and nights passed swiftly with clear skies and strong winds until the massive port of Volantis grew larger upon the horizon. Rosalyn's days were passed practicing at swordplay and her nights were spent foolishly wrapped in the arms of Bevalio Maegyr. When she slept and sometimes when she was awake, Rhaegal would make his unhappiness known. The dragon needed to be free. She promised that she was on her way.

The sheer size of Volantis was enough to take one's breath away. The Wall was the only structure which Rosalyn had ever seen that was larger than Volantis, though anything must seem small when compared to the Wall. The closer they were to the city, the smaller the ocean and land seemed until they were all at once swallowed by city.

They docked close to the Black Wall, where only the Old Blood were permitted to live. No guests could enter without an invitation from those who lived within. The Maegyrs were amongst the oldest and noblest of Houses in Volantis, and Rosalyn was permitted to pass beneath the Black Wall with Bevalio.

If one were to describe the Maegyr manse in Pentos as extravagant, there were nearly no words to describe the ancient wealth which existed in the Maegyr manse of Volantis. The structure was three times the size of the manse in Pentos, and larger than the whole of Winterfell, including the Winter Town. There were rooms filled with statues, paintings, tapestries, books, jewels, and cloth. Not even in her wildest dreams could Rosalyn have imagined such enormity of wealth.

This was the life which Talisa was giving up. She had told Rosalyn more than once that she would return to Westeros and some day to Winterfell with Robb's child. Winterfell was ancient, but it could not boast the sheer volume of beauty contained within the walls of the Maegyr home. Winterfell was in ruins, broken but able to be rebuilt. Volantis was beautiful and full of wonder.

She spent much of her time alone in the manse. Bevalio maintained a polite distance from her, for propriety, he had told her. He did not want his family to think poorly of her, not when her request was so great. So she filled her days until she was to meet with the Triarchs with exploring the many rooms of the manse and swimming in the thirty pools which could be found throughout the vast structure. There were also gardens and a small menagerie on the grounds of the estate. There was no one for her to speak with, for the slaves could not or would not speak to her and no one else ever met with her, not matter how long she wandered around in the estate.

Finally the day arrived when she was to speak before the Triarchs, though she would not say much as Bevalio would do all the speaking and translating. The entire speech had been decided beforehand. He had given his proposal the day they had landed in Volantis, the waiting period had been their time for deliberation. Now she would appear before the Triarchs so that she might know their decision.

There were two members of the tigers who sat as Triarch, Malaquo Maegyr, the grandfather of Talisa and Bevalio, and Alios Qhaedar, a newly elected Triarch. Nyessos Vhassar of the elephants had been reelected as Triarch for the year. All three men seemed old and toothless as Rosalyn stood before them, but she knew that they were anything but toothless. The three men held the power to sway Volantis in whatever direction they wished, and she needed them to be swayed towards her wishes.

She stood before them, garbed in the finest Volantene attire money could buy. She wore violet to bring out the color of her eyes and jewels of great beauty and pricelessness. Bevalio stood beside her as they faced the Triarchs, attired in dark blue silks. They were as stunning to behold as any King or Queen who had ever lived, hopefully it would have the desired response.

When asked to speak, she spoke, explaining the plan which they had devised in Pentos. Volantis wished to make war against Mereen, against Daenerys Targaryen. Volantis wanted to reestablish the slave trade and make an end to the chaos which the Targaryen girl had wrought upon Essos.

The answer which Rosalyn, Bevalio, and Talisa had devised would bring about a desired conclusion for all their wishes. Volantis could have Mereen, so long as Daenerys, the dragons, and any of Daenerys's people who desired, were returned to Westeros. If Daenerys were in Westeros, she would no longer be a threat to Essos.

The Triarchs wanted to know why they should not just kill the Targaryen girl. She was just one girl, and a boy claiming to be Aegon, the son of Rhaegar Targaryen had just sailed to Westeros with the Golden Company.

The answer was simple, if they allied with House Targaryen, the True House Targaryen, agreeing to assist in the conquest of King's Landing, Mereen would belong to Volantis. Why should the first daughter of Old Valyria share power with Yunkai, Astapor, or Mereen? If Volantis assisted with the Targaryen restoration, then a wealth of trading opportunities were promised.

Why would Daenerys leave Mereen after she had received so many offers to leave before that point?

She would not leave because she did not have a guarantee of victory in Westeros. With the backing of Volantis, she could easily over throw Westeros.

Why did some girl care? Who was she, the Triarchs wanted to know?

The niece of Daenerys Targaryen, with a stronger claim to the Iron Throne. There were witnesses to her birth alive in Westeros. She was also the cousin, raised as a sister, to Robb Stark, the King of the North and Riverlands. He had been married to the exalted Triarch Malaquo's own granddaughter and she was due to give birth to his heir any day. Did not the Triarch feel his own blood should be restored to his or her rightful place in Westeros?

The debate raged for hours, though much of it was circular. The Triarchs wanted to know what they could get from an alliance with the dragons that they would not get if they joined with Yunkai. The debates ended at long last, and the three men deliberated once again before rendering their decision.

Daenerys Targaryen and her followers would be escorted from Essos. Volantis would assist in the conquest of King's Landing, troops directly under the control of Triarch Maegyr would assist with the recapture of the North. In return, Volantis would control Mereen, Yunkai, and Astapor. Any subject of Daenerys Targaryen who did leave for Westeros would find themselves under the control of Volantis. Volantis would restore and strengthen the slave trade. Whenever hostilities were at an end in Westeros, a permanent delegation would be established to handle diplomatic ties between Volantis and Westeros.

The agreements were signed.

The deed was done.

Rosalyn's first act as a Targaryen was to strip away power from her aunt and to restore the slave trade to the region known as Slaver's Bay. She told herself that she was doing what needed to be done. She told herself that they needed the armies of Volantis on their side. She told herself that she was restoring balance to the region.

In the end she could still see her father, Lord Eddard Stark, sadly shaking his head in disapproval of the deeds which she was about to commit.