In the King's Landing, Mira was staring outside the window before Sera approached. "Ah, there you are." Mira turned and smiled at her. "I haven't seen you since the coronation feast."

"How many ships do you suppose it takes to move an army?" Mira wondered, imagining the army Ludd was going to send to Ironrath.

"Ships?" Sera looked at her, confused. "Why in the world would you—"

Mira sighed and walked off. "Never mind."

Sera followed Mira. "Mira, I'll be honest." Her face turned sad. "I took an enormous risk, defying Margaery to get you into that feast." She looked at Mira, disappointed. "And you thank me by making a scene with Lord Andros. In front of everybody! Margaery saw, of course. And she knew exactly how you got there." She gave Mira a pointed look.

"Lord Andros is a threat to my family. He's plotting against them even as we speak." Mira said, her patience reaching its limits.

Sera sighed and nodded. "I believe you, but… you called attention to yourself, Mira. And you angered Margaery." She looked away from her best friend. "Which is why it's not safe for me to be around you anymore."

"What?" Mira asked.

"Mira, you're not the girl I knew at Highgarden." Sera said sadly, shaking her head. "She'd never be so reckless. And now that Garibald an I are discussing marriage…" She looked away, leaning towards the windowsill. "I just can't risk being associated with you. Not anymore." She looked at Mira sadly again. "You know how much I need this marriage. I won't do anything to jeopardize it."

"Sera, you can't mean this." Mira gave her a pleading look, holding Sera by her hand. "I have too few friends in King's Landing as it is."

"I'm sorry, I really am. But… I just can't anymore." Sera said as they kept walking down the corridor. "Was it worth it, at least? Sacrificing so much for your family?"

"They're still in very grave danger, I'm afraid." Mira admitted.

Sera could only imagine what was Mira going through and part of her could understand why Mira did what she did. "Well…" She gave Mira a reassuring smile. "I know you'll do everything in your power to protect them."

Mira returned the smile. For whatever it was worth, the least Sera could give her was her friendship. Around the corner, they saw Margaery talking to other ladies as they froze. "I better go before she sees me—"

"Mira Forrester." One of the Lannister guards called as they surrounded her and Sera quickly made herself scarce, discreetly leaving.

"Can I help you?" Mira asked innocently.

"You need to come with me. Now." The guard said and Mira recognized him. It was Lucan, the guard who had seen her last with Damien, the guard that tried to kill her and she ended up killing him.

"Why would I?" Mira asked.

Lucan glared. "Don't make this difficult."

Mira hesitated but gave in as she was accompanied by them but unknowing to her, Margaery had managed to glance at them as her eyes narrowed, wondering what kind of trouble had her handmaiden gotten herself into this time.

Outside Meereen, Asher and Beskha were returning to Daenerys's tent as Asher saw Beskha pouting. "I thought you'd be happier."

"I'm glad he's dead. It felt good plunging the knife in at least." Beskha admitted.

"But…" Asher paused, knowing something was bothering her.

"It doesn't feel like I expected." Beskha said. "I thought I'd feel lighter, or something…"

Asher sighed. "It may have cost me. A lot." He knew that if Daenerys were to find out that they disobeyed her orders, at best, she would give him no army, at worst, execution.

"I know…" Beskha gave him an appreciative smile. "Thanks, Asher." She sighed. "We should never have come here. This city… it only holds pain for me, Asher. I was hoping to bury it all with Dezhor's corpse."

Asher looked at her in sympathy. "I can't imagine what it must have been like."

Beskha raised her hands, protesting. "Please… I don't want to talk about it again."

"Asher! You're back!" They turned to Malcolm, who smiled at them.

"Uncle!" Asher laughed as Malcolm patted him by his back. "Let's collect our Second Sons and get out of here."

Malcolm nodded as they followed him into Daenerys's tent. "If you did as you were told, Daenerys should deliver."

Beskha snorted. ""Daenerys", huh? First names with the queen now, are we?"

They entered the tent as Daenerys was examining the map of Meereen.

"Your grace, my nephew has returned from his mission." Malcolm said.

"It seems you played your part in the taking of Meereen, Asher Forrester." Daenerys said, sounding impressed. She then turned to him with a pointed look. "Did you run into any trouble?" And on cue, Croft entered, glaring as the atmosphere in the tent turned cold suddenly. "Reports from the battle are muddled. Perhaps you can clear them up?"

"No battle is without difficulties, your grace." Asher admitted, while Croft glared at him from behind. "But we fulfilled your orders." Deep down, he hoped that the word regarding Dezhor's death had not reached to her, nor had Croft told her.

Daenerys's eyes narrowed. "All of them?" She paced down her tent. "I heard rumors of an incident in the city." She turned her gaze towards Asher, who tensed. He had seen that look before with his mother, whenever he had misbehaved and she caught him in the act. Croft must have told her already. She knew. "Do you know anything about it?"

Asher sighed. Obviously, there was no point denying it anymore. "Your grace, we encountered the slave master Dezhor zo Raza on the way to the signal tower. I regret that he lost his life."

Beskha groaned, shaking her head. "Oh, don't fucking…"

Daenerys scowled. "You admit it, then? The punishment for defying a Queen is death." Asher gulped. "And yet you come to me for a reward. Why should I let this pass?"

"Don't you dare…" Beskha growled into Asher's ear.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Daenerys demanded.

Asher knew it was the best defense he had. "Because Beskha was Dezhor's slave. For years."

He could feel Beskha burning holes into the back of his head as she grumbled under her breath. "Damn you, Asher…"

"She deserved her revenge, as much as any slave in Meereen." Asher said pleadingly.

Daenerys nodded, turning to Beskha in sympathy. "You have my sympathies…"

"Keep your pity, Dragon Queen. Give us your soldiers and we'll be gone." Beskha said indifferently.

"I apologize for her, your grace…" Malcolm bowed.

Daenerys raised her hand. "It's alright, Malcolm. I do not hold it against her or you." She straightened herself. "You have proved yourselves in battle and while you disobeyed my orders, you had good reason." She turned her back and sat down on her bench again. "Unfortunately, I cannot spare my Second Sons."

"What?!" Beskha demanded, enraged.

"But your grace, the mission was a success!" Malcolm argued.

Daenerys turned to them with a cold stare down upon them. "I need every soldier to hold Meereen."

Beskha snorted, turning to Asher, infuriated. "What did I tell you? She was never going to help us."

"You promised me Croft and his Second Sons!" Asher reminded, trying to keep his tone leveled but he could hear himself speak a little louder than he had intended.

Daenerys nodded. "Which is why I'm not going to let you leave here empty-handed." She gave him an assuring look. "I cannot give you my sellswords, but I will give you the next best thing…" She snapped her fingers as her Unsullied entered with a chest full of gold bricks. "This gold will be of use." Asher stared at the chest. Not the reward he had expected but he could settle for it. "Perhaps you can find the swords you need in Meereen."

"Thank you, your grace." Asher bowed.

"We promise to put it to good use." Malcolm said.

Daenerys nodded. "I'm sure you will." She sat down. "A new day is born in Meereen. The slaves have thrown off their collars. There are fighters among those who used to be bound."

"On behalf of the Forresters and the Branfields, I thank you." Malcolm bowed, placing his arm on his chest.

"See that you are ready when I return to Westeros." Daenerys said and they bowed but before they could leave, she continued. "I have other plans for you, Malcolm."

"Plans for me, your grace?" Malcolm straightened, looking surprised.

"Plans that will help House Forrester, I hope?" Asher asked.

"I would like you to stay and serve me." Daenerys said as Malcolm and Asher looked at each other, surprised. "I have a task for you."

"Your grace, I… I—" Malcolm was lost for words. "I am humbled. But I owe my allegiance to my family."

"And they will be grateful for the Targaryen alliance you've helped forge." Daenerys promised.

Malcolm bowed. "I am honored you would ask me." She turned to Asher. "Might I discuss it with my nephew first?"

Daenerys nodded. "Do so, but let me know your answer soon."

Malcolm bowed as they left her tent.

"You'd seriously consider staying in Essos?" Asher asked.

"I'm not sure…" Malcolm looked like if he was conflicted. "This is all rather sudden." He turned to Asher. "If she does come to Westeros, we'd want Daenerys Targaryen on our side." He smiled at his nephew. "You've made a good start with her. I could strengthen that bond. It's worth thinking about, you have to admit."

Asher considered before nodding. "You're right, Uncle. The Mother of Dragons would make a powerful ally."

"If she succeeds in taking the Iron Throne, she'll be the only ally we need." Malcolm said. "But whatever comes of this—we still need men who will fight for us now." He looked at Meereen. "The queen thought we might find them here—among the newly freed."

They turned to Beskha, who raised her hands, her face full of rage, obviously bitter that Asher had revealed her secret to Daenerys. "Don't even think about it." She glared at Asher as if he was stupid. "You just couldn't keep your fucking mouth shut, could you?" She scoffed and crossed her arms, shaking her head. "Had to tell her everything. You sold me out for a chest of gold."

"Beskha, I'm s—"

"Don't fucking say it!" Beskha cut him off with a gesture of her hand.

"It seemed like the best defense we had. The scum had it coming." Asher explained. "Now he's dead, and we still need soldiers."

Beskha sighed, knowing he was right as she glanced at Daenerys's tent. "The little queen is right. Meereen holds plenty of killers." Her eyes turned grim. "And I know plenty of them."

"So what are we waiting for? Let's go get them!" Asher said, enthusiastic.

Beskha shook her head, hesitant. "I don't know, Asher. They're not like us. To them, killing is a sport. It's fun."

Asher shrugged. "Let them have fun with the Whitehills. As long as they kill them, I don't care."

Beskha smiled. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Asher nodded as Malcolm turned to him. "I must talk further with the queen." He offered his hand as Asher shook it, saying goodbye to his uncle. "Don't get yourselves killed."

Malcolm walked back into Daenerys's tent as Asher turned to Beskha. "So, where exactly are we going?"

"Well, these fighters used to be slaves." Beskha explained as they were walking back into Meereen. "If I had to guess, I'd say they'll be trying to live like Masters…"

Back in the North, in the woods, Sylvi had collected some logs, putting them to the fire, while Cotter was clutching his wound that had been bandaged. Finn was few feet away from them, sulking, probably still bitter that Gared and Cotter had kept secret from him that Cotter was a wildling.

"You're freezing." Sylvi said.

Finn snorted. "Yeah, don't worry about it." He looked around. "Someone has to keep watch."

Cotter groaned, clutching his wounded shoulder as Sylvi gave him a cup of medicine. "It's getting worse, isn't it?"

Cotter drank before he looked around. "We're only about few days from the Antler River. We cross a bridge the First Men built, and from there we can try to find the North Grove…" He turned to his sister pleadingly. "Right, Sylvi?"

"We're not going north." Sylvi protested. "We're going south, to join Mance. And the rest of the free folk."

"But—"

"That was always the plan, Cotter." Sylvi said before he could protest.

"I can't go south. The Night's Watch will have my head." Gared argued. And Finn's too, for helping him and deserting and if not the Watch, then Mance Rayder would surely put their heads on pikes, like what happened to Eddard Stark.

"Better than lose it to a White Walker." Sylvi argued.

Cotter held his sister's hand. "Sylvi, he's come a long way. He knows what he's doing."

"Does he now?" Sylvi shot him a look before turning to Gared again. "Tell me, then… how did my brother get that gash in his arm? You dressed his wound up well enough…" Gared shrugged. He had learned some healing techniques from Maester Ortengryn. "But why'd he get hurt in the first place?"

"What does that have to do with the—" Cotter started.

"Hush, Cotter." Sylvi cut him off with a gesture of her hand. "I'm asking fish face here."

Gared folded his arms, glaring. He certainly didn't like the insult.

"Sylvi—"

"Don't "Sylvi" me. I want to hear it from him."

"Some Wildlings… uh…" Gared cleared his throat and corrected himself. "Free Folk… mistook Cotter for a crow—"

"Can't imagine why…" Sylvi said sarcastically.

"We tried to reason with them, and… well, things got out of hand." Gared explained.

Sylvi looked at him incredulously. "Out of hand?" She glanced at her brother. "From the look of it, he was nearly killed." Gared winced, knowing it was his fault. Perhaps he should have intervened and not listen to Cotter and next thing he knew, she shoved him as he staggered on his feet. "Point is, you don't belong out here."

Cotter sighed as he got up. "Sylvi, I've known Gared a while now. He may not be one of us, but I trust him."

Sylvi turned to him with a sibling worry in her eyes. "I've been waiting months for you, Cotter. And when you finally come home, it's with some crow who can barely build a fire?" She then waved Gared off dismissively. "No. We don't need to die for him."

"Me neither." Finn spoke up. He had been silent since finding out that Cotter was a wildling and when he spoke up, he seemed understandably bitter. "The fucking North Grove isn't even real. And if it is, it's probably full of wolves and—" He gestured around, while glaring at Sylvi and Cotter. "More wildlings."

"It is real. Lord Forrester believed it and so do I." Gared said, full of conviction. Gregor wouldn't entrust him with this secret without a reason.

"Then you're both idiots." Finn shook his head.

"Finn, will you c—" Cotter started.

"Just piss off." Finn snapped before glaring at Gared. "Some leader you turned out to be." He walked off as Gared sighed. He didn't blame Finn for losing patience but he had to wonder whether he could win his loyalty back somehow.

"You should listen to him." Sylvi said as she picked her spear. "The further north you go, the more likely you'll never come back. It's just not worth it. Once Cotter is fit to travel, we head south. With or without you, Gared."

"Sylvi…" Cotter started.

"You need to rest. And we'll be wanting something to eat. I won't go far." Sylvi promised as she entered the woods.

Cotter sat down as he noticed Gared's disturbed look. "Don't be angry, Gared. This isn't what it looks like. I can explain."

"Did you know she'd refuse to go north?" Gared demanded, out of his patience. He had enough of Cotter's secrets, since they had cost him enough already. The Night's Watch, Jon's and Finn's trust and maybe the way to the North Grove.

"I swear, I didn't." Cotter said. "I thought she could help. Sylvi knows these woods better than I do. If anyone can find the North Grove, it's her. And besides… I couldn't just leave her." He looked at her sadly. "I won't do that. Not again."

"Then convince her to go with us! She's your sister—"

"Well, maybe she's right!" Cotter snapped. "Maybe you don't belong up here!"

"You don't mean that." Gared looked at him in disappointment. "So that's it? I can't head north without a guide."

"I go where she goes." Cotter gave him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Gared."

Cotter wanted to help but he didn't want to abandon his sister either, besides, he was as lost north of the Wall as Gared was and Finn… he didn't blame Gared for what was going on, since Finn had made his choice to help but he was angry at how it all turned out. Both Gared and Finn were deserters and hunted by both the Watch and wildlings and it didn't help that Finn didn't trust Cotter and Sylvi. But he was willing to see this through for Gared.

Gared followed Sylvi, as they hunted for rabbits, with Sylvi using her spear, while Gared used his bow and arrow.

Sylvi then noticed the worried look in his eyes. "You ever lost anyone, Gared? Someone you really cared about. Someone you thought you couldn't live without seein' ever again. Do you know what that's like?"

"I lost my family. First my mother…" Gared looked away. "…then my sister and father."

Sylvi nodded, seeing the pain in his eyes. "So you know how it feels. Cotter and I… we lost everything too." She looked into the woods. "And we nearly lost each other. I didn't think he'd make it back this time. And I won't risk losing him again… not even for the North Grove."

Gared noticed her eyes narrow as if a dreadful memory was reflecting from her pupils. "You know something about it, don't you?"

"Only what I've heard." Sylvi said as she noticed Gared smile. "But don't get your hopes up. It's not worth it."

"Please, Sylvi. I need to know." Gared pleaded.

Sylvi considered and stared into his eyes before she looked into the plains, as if reliving a memory. "A few years back, one of the ice-river clans set out to find it. They'd heard stories… that the cold couldn't touch it. That it's safe even in the dark of winter. So they'd set out, all full of hope… And none of them ever returned."

"Do you believe the stories?" Gared asked.

Sylvi's eyes then lit up. "Oh, I forgot. You southerners don't believe anything you can't see with your own—"

"Gared! Help!"

"Cotter!" Sylvi exclaimed as they returned to the camp and much to their shock, Finn and Cotter were surrounded by pale-skinned walking corpses with blue eyes that snarled inhumanly.

"Look out!" Finn yelled as more of the walking corpses approached from the woods.