"Time to begin, Your Grace" remarked Arya, even as Tyrion, Tyene, and Varys were conversing in the sitting room. Yara had released her from her duties on board the Black Wind, for the time being. Her initial suspicions towards Daenerys had largely vanished, as she had come to know, and admire the woman. And of course, it was very much in the interests of Jon and Sansa that she should triumph. Daenerys was wearing leather breeches and jerkin, and followed her into the garden of the villa where they were staying. Arya drew Needle, and handed the Queen a blunted short sword. She then fixed a leather cap on top of her own blade. She intended to train her, not injure her.

She watched as the Queen still limped slightly, on the leg which had taken the bolt, and raised the sword, clumsily. "Riding a dragon can blind you to threats that are closer to hand. No offence, you'll never be able to fight like a water dancer. But, I can make you competent, if you ever meet an assassin. Now, always face your opponent side on; that way, you present much less of a target. She walked behind the Queen, adjusting her position to her satisfaction. Now watch me." She thrust, parried, and cut, making Daenerys mimic her actions. She kept this up for the best part of an hour. By this, point, Daenerys was blowing hard, although Arya had scarcely broken a sweat.

"Shall we break off, for a moment?" suggested Daenerys.

"Your enemies won't let you. Nor will I. Now, try to strike me."

They confronted each other, sideways. Arya glided in, cutting right and left at Daenerys' face, as she desperately sought to parry the blows. "A girl is dead' commented Arya, pointing her sword directly at the Queen's chest. "Again". They kept it up for another hour, with Arya "killing" her opponent more than a dozen times. On the last occasion, Daenerys' weak leg gave way, and she landed on her arse, only for Arya to drive her sword down, stopping just short of her windpipe.

"If you mean to murder the Queen's Grace, I'd do it in front of fewer witnesses, if I were you" remarked Tyrion, dryly. He had joined them in the garden, along with Lord Varys. Arya took Daenerys' hand, and helped her up from the ground.

"I've just been taught my limitations as a fighter" replied the Queen.

"You have good reflexes" commented Arya, "you just have to practice. I'll teach you how to use a dagger, as well as a short sword".

"A wise precaution" remarked the Spider. "Your murderers are your friends and allies. They come with smiles on their faces." Arya fancied that she felt a sudden chill, despite the warmth of the day. The man's face was bland, as ever, giving nothing away.

Daenerys called for a servant to bring them all a flagon of persimmon wine, chilled with ice. They sat down to talk. "Arya is teaching me to defend myself" commented the Queen. "The moment my leg is fully healed, I'll be taking her flying with Drogon." Riding a dragon was something Arya had dreamed of, since she was young.

Tyrion gave them the same news that he had given Varys and Tyene earlier. "So, we make progress" commented Daenerys. "There are still several strongholds to subdue before we reach the capital, but it seems our enemies are beginning to unravel. The Tyrells' hold on the Reach is less secure than we thought."

"Every Great House has a vassal who dreams of taking their place" remarked Tyrion. "Lady Megga was Margaery's Tyrell's childhood friend, but she would happily see Margaery impaled, if it brought her Highgarden".

"Is that what you intend, your Grace?" asked Arya. Daenerys frowned, sipping from her goblet.

"I liked the woman when we met. I hoped we could be friends. But, I can't forgive her family's treachery. I believe Tommen to be blameless, so I shall permit him to take the Black, and I will not hold their infant daughter responsible for her family's deeds; she is heir to Storms End, and she will remain a ward of the Crown, until she turns sixteen. But, as for Margaery herself, I see no option other than for her to die. Your own sister is adamant she must die, Arya. I expect I shall let her take her own life, in whatever manner she sees fit."

"A great deal better than she merits, your Grace", commented Varys, "You have a gentle heart. Lord Tyrion and I have two delicate matters to raise with you. The first is your remarriage; the second is your succession."

"Don't I have the chance to mourn for my murdered husband?" she replied.

"Of course, your Grace" commented Tyrion, "but a a fresh marriage alliance must still be forged. There are several eligible suitors. Lord Varys and I have considered them in detail, and we concur that Ser Edric Dayne would be the most suitable".

"I have had three husbands. Each one has died violently. Do you not consider that to be a message from the Gods? No, I shall not wed again. Or at any rate, give me time to think on it."

"And the succession?" enquired Varys.

Daenerys sighed. "Yes, I suppose you are right to press me. Many families can claim Targaryen blood, yet only distantly. Some of them are fighting me, which rules them out. "

"The Martells are both your closest relatives, and they are royalty" remarked Varys.

"But, I cannot be happy at the manner of their rise to power" she replied. "Nothing I have learned suggests to me that either Prince Doran or his son, deserved to die at their hands. "

"The politics of Dorne is a deadly game, with few merciful players" commented Varys ruefully. "There are worse fates for this realm than to have a ruthless monarch. It will do the Great Houses no harm at all to learn that they are ruled by a family who will brook no disloyalty."

"Apart from their own treason, that is" commented Tyrion.

"Treason which prospers is, by definition, no treason" shot back Varys.

"Do you have a view, Arya? I'm sure your sister and her betrothed must have."

"I do. You've already agreed to serve as Protector of the Seven Kingdoms. A military leader, whose authority is separate from the authority of the King in the North, or the Princess of Dorne. I'm sorry if this sounds impertinent, but I have discussed it with my sister, and this is her suggestion. Why not put aside, for the time being, who is to be king or queen after you, and nominate a successor as Protector? I know this will sound selfish, but I can think of no one better suited for the role than my brother, Jon. Like you, he knows of the danger we all face from beyond the Wall. He has no ambition at all to rule any lands South of the Neck, but he would gladly serve as war leader of the Seven Kingdoms, in the war that is to come. Or, Gods forbid, were you to fall, before taking the Iron Throne."

"This suggestion is purely self-serving" snapped Varys. "Your family would rule the North, the Vale, and in fact, if not in law, the whole of the Seven Kingdoms. "

Arya saw the Queen, looking thoughtful. "What say you, Lord Tyrion?"

"Were this suggestion to relate to anyone other than Jon Snow, I would agree with Lord Varys" he remarked after a while. "Most war leaders would simply seize the Iron Throne. Yet, he is different. Rather like your Grace, in fact, I believe he views power as a burden, not an entitlement. Yes...I could see merit in that idea." Arya glanced at Varys, who looked as if he had swallowed a wasp.

" Then, give me a day or two, to chew on this idea, and I shall give you my decision" remarked Daenerys.

"Well, I've made a mortal enemy of the Spider" thought Arya. "Your murderers are your friends, indeed!"

Notes:

1. As well as Lord Yohn Royce, Hizdahr Zo Loraq, and Khal Drogo died violently.

2. "Treason doth never prosper: what's the reason? Why, if it prosper, none dare call it treason" according to Sir John Harrington